#anyway looks like breakfast today is going to be an apple and a banana and some yogurt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wroteasongabouther · 4 years

Text

can’t stand to see you lonely: part 2

a/n: thank you all so so sooooo much for the love on the first part of cstsyl ❤️ i hope you guys like part 2 just as much, and please reblog/leave me any feedback if you can as if really just makes me smile and helps with the engagement and blah blah blah u know the drill lol

and thank you to the lovely jill @havethetimeofyourstyles, jess @arrogantstyles and wendy @bookwormandtea for beta reading for me!

word count: 15k

warnings: mentions of death, couples fighting, awkward silence in elevators, and addicting candy cane pretzels.

fic page // let’s chat! // cstsyl playlist

They were fighting again. Y/N’s voice was booming through the walls, her boyfriend’s echoing after hers. Harry tries his best to focus on anything but their voices, but he can’t. It doesn’t make him feel all that great listening to the girl he had only seen smile and had been making laugh over the past two weeks, now yelling on the other side of the wall between them.

Harry plucks a soft melody on his guitar as he lounges on his couch. His hands absentmindedly playing the four chords that have been stuck in his head all morning while he attempts to write lyrics to the melody. Only, he was having a bit of trouble doing so as he listened to Y/N’s voice again.

“Honestly, Mark! Really?” Y/N’s shouting is muffled, but Harry hears her still. “You really think that it doesn’t bother…” The rest of her words are a bit harder to hear as she quiets her voice. Harry never imagined he’d hear her raise her voice like that. That soft, sweet and gentle tone that he has spent dreaming about for weeks now.

Harry’s still plucking the chords he’s grown obsessed with, humming along while zoning out on the blank tv in front of him. He feels selfish, and rather ridiculous too, not wanting to imagine Y/N with another man. But he also feels selfish that he’s not upset over the fact they’re fighting for the third time in two days. Harry shakes his head and scolds himself for the thought. Regardless of his feelings, he shouldn't want Y/N to feel this way. He can tell these couple days must’ve been hard on her, working all day and then coming home to only end up in a yelling match with her prick of a boyfriend.

Harry rolls his eyes and notices that the shouting has stopped. The silence of his apartment, aside from his guitar, only makes him feel a bit sadder.

“I’m selfish, I know,” Harry sings, “but I don’t ever want to see you with him.”

Suddenly, his phone chimes from where it’s sat on the table, signalling an incoming phone call from Mitch. A picture of the two of them together in the studio last spring shows on the screen, Mitch tucked under Harry’s arm as they’re both slouching into the couch they sat on. Harry reaches for his phone and swipes his finger across the screen to accept his call.

“Hey,” Harry mutters into the phone, focusing on getting together his notebook and cleaning up the few torn crumpled pieces of paper littering his coffee table.

“Hey, you leaving your place soon?” Mitch asks. Harry can hear traffic in the background, meaning that he had already left his place that's located much closer to the studio than his own apartment is. Moving his shoulder up a little, he holds his phone between his ear and shoulder in order to use both hands as he sets his guitar into the open case that’s sitting on the chaise lounge of his couch. Then scrambling around to gather the scrap paper and glass of water he had, standing up with his trash in hand to throw away and glass in the other to put in the sink.

“Just about to,” Harry answers honestly, making his way into his kitchen to clean up. He sighs after clearing his hands and returns his phone to his left hand to hold now.

“You get busy with that neighbour of yours again. Got a new crush, H?” Mitch teases him. Rolling his eyes, Harry brushes a hand on his light wash jeans before patting his pocket to make sure his thin wallet was still there.

“No,” he mutters, obviously lying to his best mate - which Mitch is very aware of as he hums in response. “I’ll be there in, like, 20 if the tube isn’t a horror show.”

“You’ve lived here for nearly 3 years now, think you can call it the subway yet?”

“Nope,” Harry sighs. There were a few things his British instincts kicked in for; many different phrases and words he knew would stick in his vocabulary despite how many years he’s been in the U.S. Harry’s grabbing his green winter coat and slipping on his boots as he holds the phone between his shoulder and ear again. “Should I grab the gang some coffee on my way? Seeing as I’ll probably be the last to arrive,” Harry says in a tight voice, his annoyance from hearing Y/N and her boyfriend still clear even in his phone call with his mate.

“Don’t count on it. Tom hasn't answered his phone all morning, so something tells me he’s preoccupied,” Mitch suggests. Harry recalls the text he had gotten from his friend Tom, saying that he and the Missus were planning to celebrate their anniversary early this year. Mitch seems to be hinting that their celebrations have fallen into the morning too. Harry bets that Tom being MIA was because of his two children. The two of them knew how to gang up on their dad already at a young age—he couldn't imagine how they’d be when they grew up.

“He’s a dad, Mitch, that's probably what he’s preoccupied with,” Harry states. After putting on his coat, he walks over to clasp the case for his guitar closed and heaves it up before heading for the door.

“Point being, don’t bother with coffee. I’m in line at Starbucks anyways. Did you want anything?” Mitch asks.

“A slice or two of the banana loaf, please,” Harry requests, his stomach growling at the thought of food. Time had slipped by him this morning, listening to Y/N and her boyfriend argue, and he hadn’t eaten more than an apple for breakfast.

Harry double checks the lights are off in his apartment before shutting the door behind him, setting his guitar down to rest on the wall to his left, and locking it quickly. Mitch is complaining in his ear about some Karen at the front of the line. Harry chuckles at his friends colourful words and picks up his guitar, not sparing a glance at Y/N’s door as he walks to the elevator and hits the down button to call it to his floor. Not even a ten seconds go by and he hears someone exiting their apartment behind him. Harry doesn’t want to look over his shoulder to check, not wanting to see Mark and Y/N walking hand in hand towards him. So, he keeps his eyes trained up on the red numbers rising above the elevator doors, signalling it’s arrival, soon hopefully.

“Hey, Harry right?” Mark questions, pointing a finger at Harry as him and Y/N stepped up to the elevator. Y/N tries her best not to frown. She hates the way Harry doesn’t smile at her first before meeting Mark’s eyes and nodding.

“Hey,” Harry says. He turns his head and catches Y/N’s gaze. “What are you guys up to?”

Y/N knows he’s simply being polite, something Mark wouldn’t care to be - seeing as he’s already got his phone out of his pocket, and is staring at the screen as he answers. “Y/N’s driving me to the airport,” he states.

Harry looks at Mark, anger bubbling inside of him as he clutches the guitar case in his hand. The elevator doors open then, a light bing! coming from inside. Mark enters first, not even bothering to look at Y/N or Harry, but then Harry waves his free hand in motion to let Y/N walk in before him. She smiles and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear as she walks into the small space and stands beside Mark.

“Thanks,” she says in a soft voice as Harry hits the button for the lobby. She takes note of the guitar case in his hand. “Are you heading to the studio?” She asks, pointing to the bulky item he’s carrying.

Harry looks down at his guitar case, “yeah, last day before everyone gets their break.”

“No more counting down the days then, huh?” She asks, mentioning their previous discussion about how people typically countdown the days till they have time off - her included this year. But Harry had mentioned that he wasn’t looking forward to his days away from the studio. He didn’t think she’d remember that.

“Counting the days till I’m back in the studio now,” Harry says. Y/N smiles and Harry’s heart bursts at the sight. Having heard her raised voice earlier today, being sure a scowl was etched on her face, he was glad to see her lips turned upward. Mark clears his throat then, causing both Y/N and Harry to quit looking into each other's eyes and step back into reality - her boyfriend was right beside them.

“Studio? What are you, a singer or something?” Mark asks Harry. His eyes catch sight of Mark’s arm snaking around Y/N’s back, resting lazily on her left hip as they stood there. Harry licked his lips and almost nodded, but was quick to catch himself and shook his head instead. “What kind of studio then? Movies?” Mark continues to question him.

“A music studio, I’m just a musician,” Harry answers.

“Oh,” Mark says, “cool,” he adds with a shrug. The elevator doors open and Mark guides him and Y/N out of the small space. “Well, see ya around, ‘Arry,” Mark says with a smug look, trying to mimic his accent. But he butchers it, of course, sounding more like Hagrid from Harry Potter. Mark then waves and turns himself and Y/N to the right of the lobby that leads to the stairwell that went down to the underground parking lot.

Y/N only gets to give Harry a quick smile before Mark turns her away. She wants to apologize for Mark’s ridiculous behaviour, feeling embarrassed by it. She also wanted to say that Harry wasn't just a musician, he was a songwriter too, which therefore meant he was a storyteller, and in her eyes songwriters were some of the most creative and talented people. Y/N wanted to shut Mark up and start bragging about Harry, like he was her boyfriend and Mark was just some dumb prick.

Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and licks them, glancing quickly over her shoulder before getting to the door. Her eyes meet Harry’s intense stare, him looking over his shoulder at her too, and her stomach erupts with butterflies. But then it flips and flops with nerves and her hands suddenly being tugged on by her boyfriend, holding open the door with his hip as he walks them through the doorway and out of Harry’s sight.

Harry finds himself thinking about Y/N the whole way to the studio—as if he hasn’t stopped thinking about her and her boyfriend over the past couple days anyways. Did she ever mention being in a relationship, even in the most subtle way? Did he misinterpret her kindness for flirting like an absolute idiot? These questions were on a loop inside of his head until he walked into the studio, flashed the front desk his ID badge, and headed to studio B where he and his mates would be working today.

“And he’s made it,” Mitch announces as Harry pushes closed the door and walks the few steps to his left where the brown leather couch was against the wall. Adam is sitting on the couch, the phone in his hand chimes as he types on it quickly, merely giving Harry a quick smile before looking back at the screen. Mitch is standing by the switch board, leaning back against it as he stares Harry down. Next to him is Tom, sitting in his chair and facing his many computer screens as he gets everything up and going for the day.

“And I see we were both wrong and Tom beat me,” Harry states. He sets his guitar down, leaning it against the side of the couch before sitting himself down beside Adam.

“I wasn’t answering my phone because I was already on my way over here way before any of you slowpokes, and then I turned off my ringer once I got in here,” Tom explains, leaning back in his chair while his eyes stay on the screen. But then he twirls around, facing Harry and Adam, and gives Adam a bored look. “Like we all agreed to do, right Adam?”

“Relax, I’ll do it after I send this last text,” Adam says.

“Sure,” Tom mutters, swivelling his chair back around and grabbing the mouse to continue his set up.

“Jeez, Tommy,” Mitch chuckles, “did you not get any last night or something? What’s got your panties in a knot?”

Harry’s eyebrows pull down as he takes in his friends stiff posture as Mitch’s words seem to sink in. “Wasn’t it your anniversary date last night?” He questions, keeping his voice light and not as daunting as Mitch’s had been.

Tom turns back around to face the boys and makes a big show of rolling his eyes. “Yeah, it was supposed to be, but then our babysitter called and was all freaked out and of course Jenny got all freaked out too. I tried to tell her it wasn’t that big of a deal and they could handle it, but we still ended up leaving our hotel room at nine o’clock and dealt with our two crying children who just missed their mommy. I was in bed by eleven.” Tom explains his night, ending with rubbing a hand up and down his face as he was clearly annoyed by the whole situation.

“That’s just life as a parent, man,” Adam states. “Emi and I didn’t have a single date night till Spike was five,” he adds with a shrug.

“Yeah, I get it but it’s just upsetting to have this whole night planned and then it not happen,” Tom says. Harry knew that feeling; he may have not had a full anniversary night away planned like Tom did, but the other day he was racking up things to do with Y/N before he was introduced to her boyfriend.

Harry zones out, eyes glued on the coffee table in front of him as he sighs softly, leaning back into the couch as he was getting wrapped up in his thought of Y/N, again. I could still be her friend, he thinks. Even though it’d hurt to see her with her boyfriend, to hear about a date night or see them kiss. The ache already begins in Harry’s chest as the mere thought of it, and he finds himself bringing a hand up and rubbing over his heart subconsciously.

“Harry,” Mitch calls, forcing Harry to snap out of his thoughts and look up at where he stood. He raises his eyebrows, making Harry think that he had said his name more than once but was ignored.

“What’s going on?” Tom asks Harry.

“He’s probably thinking about his latest little crush,” Mitch smirks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Who is it this time?” Adam asks in a monotone voice.

“His new neighbour. Supposedly, she’s rather beautiful in Harry’s eyes,” Mitch teases.

“Not just in my eyes,” Harry mumbles, looking at his lap and picking off an invisible piece of lint.

“What do you mean?” Tom questions.

Harry hears Tom’s chair squeak suddenly, making Harry assume that he must be leaning back in it again. Harry looks up to see he’s right - Tom’s got his arms crossed at his chest like Mitch while they’re both staring him down. Harry lets out a sigh and shakes his head, leaning further into the back of the couch while he licks his lips and looks anywhere but at his friends’ faces - not wanting to see their taunting looks when he tells them.

“She’s got a boyfriend,” Harry says in a low voice.

Mitch inhales a sharp breath, hissing through his teeth as he walks over and clamps a hand down on Harry’s shoulder. “That’s tough man,” he says.

Harry shakes his head again and sits up, causing Mitch’s hand to fall off his shoulder. “It’s not just tough. I get I have these crushes on people a lot, but I don’t know, there was just something different between us. We really clicked and I just thought we’d at least get to go out a few times,” he speaks softly into the quiet room,the support of some of his closest mates surrounding him.

“Have you written about how you’re feeling?” Tom asks. Harry nods and reaches for his guitar without a second thought, taking it out of the case and positioning the instrument in his lap.

“This is gonna be good,” Mitch nods his head and rolls over the second chair that occupied the room. Harry shakes his head at his friends comment.

“I’ve just had this tune in my head for a couple days now, and I’ve only come up with a few lyrics really, so I don’t know how good it will be,” he explains.

Harry plays the song he’s been playing all morning for the other three in the room. The soft acoustic guitar fills the silence, the twang from his guitar strings echoing off the walls. Harry shuts his eyes and lets his voice build up as he sings the two lines he’s been thinking about for a few days now. He feels it deep in his chest, the truth behind his words. Suddenly, more lyrics filter out of his mouth that hadn’t come up before.

“I’m selfish I know,” he sings, “I’d tell you but I know you’d never listen.”

It’s not entirely the truth, because he’s sure that Y/N would listen to anything he had to say. He’s also sure that if he walked up to her right now, ran out of this studio and back to the apartment and waited outside her door, begging for her to break up with him, that she wouldn’t listen. Harry believes that she’s a better person than that - that regardless if she felt what he had over their past few encounters, she wouldn’t listen to what he wanted and would figure things out herself.

“I hope you can see, the shape that I’m in,” Tom suddenly sings along to the tune that Harry’s still playing. Harry opens his eyes in a flash and looks at his friend, but Tom’s back is already to him as he’s facing his computer again. “I have the perfect piano and drums mix for this. I’ve had it kind of hidden away for the right time and I think this is it.”

And that’s when the magic happens. Harry puts down his guitar and gets right into the lyrics, pouring himself into yet another song. He lets his feelings out about the situation he’s gotten himself into with Y/N, and mixes it with some poetry he’s written previously in his journal. You flower, you feast, is something he’s had for quite some time but had never felt it really fit into any of his other songs. And yet somehow in this song full of duck noises, a guitar solo, and many lalalala’s, it somehow found its place.

Not to mention that Mitch absolutely murders the guitar solo. His long hair acts as a curtain as he sways to the music and lets himself go. Nearly every time that Mitch goes in for a solo, he doesn’t remember what he plays because he’s in such a trance, so Tom has to play it back for him if he needs to fix anything up. Overall, the song inspired by Y/N and her shit boyfriend is pretty great.

“Anything else you’ve got to bring to the table, Harry?” Tom asks after nearly six hours of working on perfecting their new song ‘Woman’ - named solely because of the repeating of the word in the course, which was chosen because he felt like he was calling out to Y/N in this song. Saying woman over and over again at her in hopes to get her attention. He simply shrugs and stretches back into the couch, sprawling his legs out in front of him while staring down at his journal that’s sitting in his lap.

“I’ve been writing this one based off a man I see everyday during my breakfast at the cafe down the street from my apartment,” he says. Harry clears his throat and sort of talk-sings what his idea of the melody is with the lyrics he’s got. “Nine in the morning, man drops his kids off at school. And he’s thinking of you, like all of us do. Sends his assistant for coffee in the afternoon, around one thirty two.”

“Alright, I like it,” Adam nods his head.

“Who’s he thinking of?” Mitch teases, “like all of us do,” he adds with a smirk. His lips then wrap around the straw that was in the can of Pepsi he had gotten from the mini fridge a while ago. Harry rolls his eyes and kicks out his foot in order to nudge Mitch’s leg from where he’s sitting in the desk chair he’s gotten comfortable in.

“Shut up,” Harry grumbles. Adam, Mitch and Tom all chuckle at their friend’s pout, which just makes him smile. He knew that coming into the studio and writing and making music about his situation with Y/N would ultimately make it feel even a little bit better. During the making of their newest song, his friends did give him some advice.

“If it’s meant to be, it’ll work out, H,” Adam had said with a smile.

But there’s no way of knowing how he’ll feel when he bumps into her again, whether she’s with her boyfriend or not.

It’s been a tough few days for Y/N. Not only has work been crazy because not one, but two interns got sick with a stomach bug; meaning she was currently filling their job on top of her own and running around the city - but she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Harry.

She is in her own head again as she walks into the Gucci store on Fifth Ave. for the third time in two days. As Greg approaches her, she appreciates his light pink suit with a white ruffled shirt underneath. His bald head shines under the lights of the store, but that smile was much brighter and obviously, professionally whiten. Greg gives her a kiss on the cheek, saying they are a bit behind with her packages since it’s such a busy time for them as well. Y/N just nods and gives him a smile, accepting the flute of champagne as she takes a seat and waits. This is honestly the first time she’s gotten a chance to sit all day, but of course, she spends it zoning out on a sparkly dress hung up a few feet away from her as her mind begins to think of anything but work.

Mark and her started dating only a mere four months ago. After meeting at a bar in the Upper East Side, he practically stalked her - which isn't too hard considering her social media following - and sent her flowers to work for three days straight till she agreed to go on a date with him. Turned out that he wasn’t just some business man out on the town with some work buddies, but an heir to one of the country's biggest companies. Therefore, meaning that when the gossip started of the two of them seeing each other, Y/N’s mom was the first person to call.

“You hit the jackpot, baby!” She basically screamed into Y/N’s ear.

Y/N only rolled her eyes at her mothers words. Her mother was the typical New Jersey girl that grew up with big dreams of pinning down a wealthy New York City man - and kudos to her for doing it. Her dad, bless his heart, was an older naive man who somehow managed to fertilize her mother’s gold digging eggs and voila, Y/N was born. But with that being said, Y/N was lucky enough to have family money, so she never felt the need to be in a relationship just because a man had more in his bank account. She also had better morals than her mother, and knew that money wasn’t a factor when you really loved someone. So no, Mark was not the jackpot because of his bank account. Y/N just thought he was really nice and attractive too, so she agreed to be his girlfriend those four months ago. But it wasn’t till a month ago that that nice streak ended.

All of a sudden Y/N’s cell phone is ringing. She blinks out of her daze to realize she’s finished her glass of champagne while so deep in thought. Pulling out her phone, she looks at the screen to see it’s Mark calling. His ears must be burning, Y/N thinks.

“Hey,” Y/N answers softly, crossing a leg over the other and resting her elbow on her knee as she holds the phone to her ear.

“Hey, babe,” Mark sighs. Y/N knows right away what he’s about to tell her, all by the tone of his voice and the use of that nickname. He used it when he asked her to drive him to the airport yesterday, which he forgot to mention he needed her to do till an hour before he had to leave - resulting in Y/N being very behind on work for the day.

“How’s Arizona?” Y/N asks politely anyway, mentioning the state he was in for business this time around. He was always traveling for work; his father wants him to know all the branch executives, so therefore he’s been to pretty much every state in the country over the course of six months. The moment they started to date Y/N knew he’d be working a lot, but she didn’t expect him to be working all over the country. She’s lucky if she gets a weekend with him, and honestly, she was looking forward to the almost two weeks work free they’d be getting together. But something told her that was not going to happen.

“It’s good, hot,” he says, seeming distracted by something in the background to which he moves the phone away from his mouth to respond to someone around him. “No, no, not those, the red ones,” he orders.

“Mark?” Y/N questions, keeping her voice down as Greg and one of his associates come from the backroom then with a few boxes in hand. “I’m just a bit busy with work, was there a reason for you calling, hun?”

“Right…Well, unfortunately my time at the Arizona office will be extended. So, I’m not going to make it back to New York before Christmas,” Mark explains. Y/N frowns at his words even though it’s just as she imagined when she answered his call.

“When will you be back?” She asks, her eyebrows pulled together and lip pouting out slightly.

“That’s the thing, there’s really no point in me flying back to the East Coast so close to the holidays when I’ve got to be in Los Angeles for my family’s big festivities.”

“Oh,” Y/N says. She’s only sad for a moment, noticing that Mark is distracted by something in the background once again as his voice is muffled. “So when exactly are you planning to come back to the city, Mark?” She asks as she sits up and projects her voice louder into her phone. Greg and his associate seem to notice Y/N demeanour change, his baby blue eyes widening slightly as he sets the boxes down on the couch beside her.

“I don’t know-”

Y/N doesn’t let him speak, though, her anger getting the best of her for what feels like the millionth time since she began dating Mark. It’s so unlike her, she thinks. She shakes her head and says, “you don’t plan to come back to New York and spend any part of the holidays with your girlfriend? Your girlfriend who very much loves the holidays, by the way.”

“I’m aware of your love for the holidays, Y/N, little hard to not know when your apartment looks like a four year old decorated it with all that crap,” Mark huffs into the phone, his voice matching her tone.

“Oh my god, whatever, Mark,” Y/N snaps in a low voice, having to take a deep breath as she stares down at the floor. “Just go and have fun on the West Coast, don’t worry one bit about me ‘cause it seems you haven’t bothered to to begin with,” Y/N finds herself seething into the phone, keeping her voice low before pulling her phone away from her ear and hanging up before he can say one more thing to upset her.

She shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath. Focusing on making her heart beat slow down and her hands to stop shaking. Did she just break up with him? No, no I didn’t say the words, I didn’t say it’s over and maybe I should have, Y/N thinks while letting out another short breath through her nose. She did not deserve this and she knew she didn’t, and yet she keeps putting up with his extended work trips and him disrespecting her opinions. Mark wanted a woman like Y/N’s mother. One that didn’t have her own hobbies and her own dreams, and who just wanted to be on his arm and live with whatever he put them through. Or did she even give him a real chance? That little voice in the back of her head, the one that was planted by her own mother, asks her.

“You look like you need another glass, mi amor,” Greg says softly, bringing her to open her eyes once more and realize that she did in fact just have a fight with her boyfriend over the phone in public. In front of a supplier too. Her cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Thankfully, she thought of Greg as more of a friend than in a professional view. She smiles at him, forcing it, while he holds up the bottle of champagne and fills her glass.

“Thank you,” she says quietly.

“You’re welcome,” he nods, turning to his left to grab the second tall glass and fills it as well. Y/N chuckles as he brings it to his own mouth and has a sip. “What? The holidays are stressful, I deserve a glass too every once in a while.” Y/N only laughs again and raises her flute, Greg lifts his own to cheers her before they both take a sip. “Did you want to talk about it?” He asks after a beat of silence.

Y/N licks her lips, tasting the expensive champagne all over again. “It’s just,” Y/N sighs and runs a hand through her hair before she continues, “I thought that Mark was different when I first met him. He sent flowers to my work and took me to nice restaurants. He seemed to be really into me, and now, he’s really into his work and he thinks my love for the holidays is childish, and that my opinions and my time don’t matter. So, I’m starting to think I jumped into this relationship, maybe a bit too fast all because my mom approved of his last name and Sammy thought he was hot.” Y/N rants in a rush of words, bringing her flute to her lips afterwards for another sip.

Greg doesn’t respond right away, instead he too sips his champagne and looks around the room they sat in. He sighs and brings a hand down on Y/N’s thigh, causing her to look at him. He smiles and gives her a comforting pat.

“You are a young woman in New York City who’s really got her shit together, you know your worth, Y/N,” Greg says. Y/N mirrors his smile, feeling the back of her eyes threaten with tears at his sweet words. “You’ll know what to do about this man,” he adds with a wink. Greg removes his hand and lifts his flute to finish off his champagne. “Plus, men are trash anyways,” he mutters as his eyes wander around the room that’s quickly filling up with customers.

Y/N laughs, “yes, Greg, they can be.” She agrees. But there’s one man that comes to her mind. One with enchanting green eyes, beautiful dimples, a contagious laugh, and a certain swoon worthy accent.

And yet, Y/N is not surprised when her thoughts drift off to Harry again. In fact, she thinks about him the entire way back to her office, the few boxes from Greg in her arms as she travels on the subway and walks carefully on the slushy shovelled snow that covers the sidewalks. What is he up to today? She thinks, knowing that he must’ve gotten home from the studio late yesterday - maybe even this morning. She worked late on emails last night, only having her Christmas playlist playing softly from her TV, and she didn’t hear him get home. She wonders if he sleeps in when he does that, or if he still manages to get up early and do whatever it is he does every day. She doesn’t know his daily routine, but she admits to herself that she’s curious.

Having done the errands that were needed for the day, Y/N ends up sitting at her desk for the remaining three hours of her work day. Her and Amanda go over new interns to hire, seeing as Y/N’s boss doesn’t want her away from the office doing intern work forever. And then she and Sammy are walking out of the building together at five o’clock sharp. They endured yet another eleven hour work day today. And this was one of the easiest days this week, since it was spent shopping around and organizing the office. Tomorrow there would be two A-list clients coming in for their last styling of the year, both finalizing their outfits for the upcoming Grammy awards too.

“You seem off today,” Sammy says as they walk down the stairs to the subway.

“I, um,” Y/N licks her lips and narrows her eyes at the screen that reads when the next stop would be. She looks at her friend and sighs. “I got into a fight with Mark earlier,” she states.

“Another one?” Sammy questions, raising a brow and giving her a look that said ‘really?’.

“Yup,” Y/N says, rolling her lips into her mouth and nodding. “He’s too busy with work to come back to the city for the rest of the month, said he doesn’t see the point in coming back even for a day before he has to go back home to the West Coast. So, I ended up yelling at him in the middle of the Gucci store.”

“Are you for real?” Sammy asks in shock, his eyes widening as Y/N explains what her boyfriend had told her earlier.

“Yup,” she repeats, nodding her head again too. “Oh, and he said my apartment looked like a four year old decorated it and it looked like crap,” Y/N chuckles, realizing now how stupid Mark’s fighting words were.

“Y/N,” Sammy sighs, “dump him,” he says while placing a hand on her shoulder and giving her a sympathetic smile. “I get that you wanted to give this guy a chance, but all you guys ever do is fight and I don’t want to say it but I’m going to,” he sighs again dramatically, “I’ve seen you smile over that new neighbour of yours more than Mark in the past few weeks. That’s a sign.”

“But what if I didn’t give Mark a real chance? And what if I’m just playing Harry up in my head-”

“No, none of that,” Sammy shakes his head and stares deep into Y/N’s eyes. “You are the most polite and sweetest person I’ve ever met. There’s no way in hell you didn’t give Mark a chance, hell you gave him a million chances, let’s face it. And as for Harry, you’ll never know unless you get to know him.”

Y/N rolls her eyes as Sammy drops his hand and tilts his head to the side. She notices the platform getting busier and louder then, as the subway makes way towards them from the North. This was her ride, while Sammy had to wait another ten minutes for the one that went to Brooklyn. Y/N thinks about what Sammy had said. Maybe she did give Mark plenty of chances and maybe their time was up, but that doesn’t mean she feels comfortable jumping right back into the game of dating with Harry. Plus, how bad would that make her look. Harry would probably think she didn’t care about relationships and typically shuffled around boys, which was so far from her case. In fact it was why she was so hesitant to date Mark in the first place - she didn’t like to give her time and love to just anyone. It’s just too bad she didn’t realize that Mark wasn’t worth it sooner.

“If I’m just getting out of this relationship with Mark, I can’t just start dating Harry,” Y/N exclaims to Sammy.

“I didn’t say date him right away, I said get to know him,” Sammy states, “hang out, be his friend, and if things happen then they happen. The world works in funny ways,” Sammy says matter of factly, pointing a finger at her while she starts taking a few steps towards the subway that’s coming to a stop. “We’ll talk later! Dump the fucking guy though!” Sammy shouts as Y/N just shakes her head and rolls her eyes while getting into the mass of people cramming on the subway.

“Yeah, dump the son of a bitch,” a croaky voice startles Y/N as she gets through the door. An elderly woman is smiling back at her, her yellow teeth contrasting against her dark skin as she smiles wickedly at Y/N. She chuckles awkwardly and nods, walking across the space to an open seat.

Opening her purse, she finds her Airpods and puts them into her ears. They connect to her phone automatically and she begins to tap on her phone, deciding on which playlist she wants to listen to on her way home. Once she clicks shuffle on her ‘girl freaking power’ playlist, she turns it all the way up and lets the anger in Halsey’s voice fuel her own anger towards her shit boyfriend. She thinks of their fights that have happened recently the whole ride on the subway, then she thinks if it’d be too cruel of her to break up with him over the phone as she walks the few blocks to her apartment building. If he broke up with me over the phone I’d be a little upset, Y/N thinks with a frown as she walks across the lobby to the elevator.

Y/N, who was so in her own world with her music still turned up all the way as a new song by Olivia O’Brien, doesn’t even realize when Harry walks up beside her. He can hear her music blasting through her earphones. He leans forwards a bit, hoping to get in her line of sight. But she is still focused on the elevator doors, nodding her head to whatever song she’s got playing. Harry’s lips tug up into a smile. When he first saw her standing there when he entered the building he got a little nervous, unsure how this interaction between them would go. Should he apologize right away for not knowing she had a boyfriend and asking her for dinner?

“Hello?” Harry sings. “Y/N?” He calls in a normal voice. This time she seems to notice that someone is beside her. She jumps slightly, placing a hand over her heart and reaches up with the other to take out an Airpod which causes her music to stop completely.

“You scared me,” she breathes out.

“Sorry,” Harry says, giving her a timid smile. “I tried getting your attention a few times, it must be a good song.”

She looks down at the earphone in her hand and nods, “uh, yeah, just really into empowering female music today.” She states.

Harry hums and nods, then the elevator opens, revealing a few people inside which causes Y/N to step towards him as they move out of the way. If he hadn’t taken a step back fast enough she'd practically be right up against him. He breathes in and smells her perfume, the intoxicating scent of rose filling his nostrils with her being so close. Y/N gives a quick ‘you’re welcome’ to the people who step out as they thank them for moving before they both step into the elevator together. Harry was too busy thinking about how close Y/N had been to step up and hit the number six button before he could. He gives her a smile in thanks.

The elevator begins to ascend as the space falls into silence between them. They’re both overthinking. What should I say? Is what is on both their minds as they pass the first floor, and then the second. Harry lets out a short breath through his nose before leaning his back against the railing.

“I’m sorry for being so clueless,” he states, pausing when Y/N’s head whips up and her eyes meet his. “I didn’t think you’d have a boyfriend and I just didn’t think twice before asking you if you wanted to get dinner,” he says, finally getting the thought off his chest.

Y/N furrows her brows, “and why did you think I wouldn’t have a boyfriend?” She asks, teasing him, but Harry’s face falls and he stands straight once again, bringing both his hands up and waves them in front of himself as if in surrender.

“Not that you’re like not pretty enough for a boyfriend, or nice enough, cause to be quite honest I would be surprised if you didn’t have a boyfriend cause you are like the prettiest girl I’ve ever met and not to mention really nice and super cool too-”

“I was just teasing you, Harry,” Y/N stops him. But his words had caused quite the feeling inside her stomach, butterflies were multiplying like it was nobody's business while she swore she felt her heartbeat in the soles of her feet.

“Oh,” he breathes out, “right. Well, still, I’m sorry.” He casts his eyes down to the floor, feeling his cheeks warm up from embarrassment. The elevator sounds a quiet bing! as the doors open for them on the sixth floor. Harry lifts his eyes to meet Y/N’s once more, motioning with his hand for her to exit first. She smiles and walks out with him right behind her.

Y/N doesn’t say anything till she’s at her apartment door, her key in the lock, and she notices Harry is at his door a few feet away. She sighs and stops twisting the key, letting her shoulder sag as she looks over at Harry.

“I’m sorry too, by the way,” she says. Harry looks up at the sound of her voice, thinking she was simply going to take in her apology and go about her merry life with Mark. He watches her tongue dart out and wet her lips as she leans into her door. “I should have mentioned Mark, even just in a quick comment, but honestly our relationship is sort of new and even a little non-existent at times, it seems, so I guess I was just enjoying making a new friend. I didn’t even think about it,” Y/N explains herself.

Harry takes in her words; that her relationship is new, and non-existent? He wonders what she means by that. But he can’t help but smile at her mentioning that she enjoyed becoming his friend. Harry nods his head and let’s his smile grow wider, knowing his dimples would show.

“I’d like to keep being your friend,” Y/N adds, “if that’s okay?”

“It’s totally okay,” Harry nods. Y/N smiles and nods back.

“Okay,” she says softly.

Harry fits his key into the lock without looking, keeping his eyes on Y/N’s as he notices her cheeks glowing a shade of pink. “How about a movie night? Tomorrow? If you’re not busy, of course,” Harry suggests, twisting his key and unlocking the door.

“I think I’m free. It’ll have to be Christmas themed, of course,” Y/N says, narrowing her eyes as if to challenge Harry to fight her on it - like Mark would.

“Well, yeah,” Harry scoffs, eyebrows pulled together and head shaking in faux disbelief. “Wouldn’t have it any other way during the month of December,” he adds.

Why couldn’t I have moved in like six months ago? Y/N thinks to herself as she smiles at Harry. She finds herself liking him more with every word that comes out of that pretty mouth of his. If only she had met him before she met Mark. Things would be easier, that’s for sure.

The two of them agree on a time for tomorrow, six in the evening, before saying their goodbyes and walking into their homes that were side by side. After Y/N takes off her shoes and coat, she walks towards her bedroom to get changed into some workout clothes for a quick at home video before she ate dinner. Just as she’s changing she hears the muffled sounds of Harry’s guitar - something she’s grown fond of hearing through their shared wall. Maybe she’ll get him to play her something tomorrow, she thinks with a smile.

Y/N makes her way back into her living room and starts up her workout video. She does some jumping jacks to get her warmed up, but honestly, her heart is already pounding in her chest from her interaction with Harry and the plans they have made. Without a doubt she knows she’ll be counting down the hours during her work day tomorrow till six o’clock.

Elf or Polar Express? Both were very different Christmas movies, and they were the two she was torn between taking over to Harry’s. They hadn’t talked about who’s apartment they would hang out in, but as it was ten minutes to six, she hoped to get out the door and knock on his first, in order to get the chance to ask him to play his guitar for her maybe. But that’s not how it’s going to work out because Y/N’s too busy being stuck between two of her favourite movies when suddenly, there’s a knock at her door. She frowns knowing that it’s Harry and wouldn’t get to hear him play guitar, but gets up from where she was sitting crossed legged on the floor to answer the door.

Her fuzzy socks pad across the hardwood floor as she walks to her door, peering through the peephole quickly to double check to see it was Harry. She smiles at the sight of his floppy brown hair and unlocks her door before swinging it open. Harry looks up as she opens the door, meeting her gaze for only a moment before he watches her take in his apparel.

He had thought about it for way too long, what he was to wear to hangout and watch movies with the girl he liked, but ended up staying dressed down as he was all day. Y/N liked how the plain white shirt he wore fit him, only a small brand logo that was over his heart, but she really liked the pastel rainbow coloured sweatpants he wore too. He looks comfy and ready to lay back and relax for a few hours with her. He’s not wearing any shoes though, which makes Y/N furrows her brows for a second.

“I didn’t really see any point in putting on shoes for the few feet out of my apartment,” Harry states quickly to let her know. Y/N nods, chuckling under her breath, but understanding what he means. She steps back and lets him into her home.

Harry takes in the atmosphere of Y/N’s apartment for the second time now. The glow from her many Christmas lights makes him feel warm inside, and her Christmas tree was the focal point of it all. He likes the odd ornaments that are littered among the branches, and he can’t quite make out what they all are, but something tells him that they each hold a special meaning to Y/N. Maybe some from her childhood, others from some trips she’s had - he could see her collecting them from anywhere she’s travelled to. Harry makes a mental note to ask her at one point.

“I was thinking of making some hot chocolate, and I have a bag of, like, this candy cane and white chocolate pretzels that I’ve been obsessed with lately and was going to munch on that during the movie, but I have a bunch of other snacks too, honestly,” Y/N starts to explain to Harry. He turns on his heels to see she’s already locked her door and is now moving into the kitchen.

“I’m cool with some hot chocolate,” Harry nods, “and I’ll give the pretzels a try, they sound good.”

“They are so good, oh my god,” she moans at the mere thought of eating them. Bending down to open her bottom drawer, she reveals a well organized array of munchies that looked like a stoner's heaven.

As she’s ruffling through the drawer Harry takes in her outfit. She’s got on a pair of Christmas themed pajama bottoms with little snowflakes scattered along the dark blue material that matched with her plain dark blue shirt. Her hair was thrown up into a messy bun, wispy hairs falling around her face as it looks as though it’s been up all day and she hasn’t cared to fix it. Overall, she looks comfortable and at ease - as she should be in her own home. He had wondered if she ever dressed down, seeing as he had only ever seen her after a day of work dressed in trendy high fashion, but somehow casual clothing. Christmas pajamas suit her, he thinks with a smile.

Y/N gets a hold of the bag of pretzels she’s talking about and opens it, taking one out for herself right away to bite down on before turning to Harry who’s standing in her kitchen. She smiles at the pretzel and lifts the bag to him. Harry takes a few steps towards her before reaching into the bag and grabbing one for himself. He brings it to his mouth and Y/N watches for his reaction. His jaw flexes as he chews down on the sweet yet salty treat.

Harry hums and nods, reaching into the bag again, “not bad,” he says before chewing on another one. Y/N smiles and passes him the bag all together, turning towards the stove top to turn on the kettle already filled with water.

“Can you find two mugs in that cabinet?” Y/N asks Harry as she looks to her left and sees him standing in front of the cabinet that held her many mugs and glasses. She points to it and Harry nods. He puts the bag of pretzels down after sneaking one last one into his mouth, and opens the cabinet door to reveal Y/N’s collection of mugs. He goes for the two at the front, which were Christmas themed, of course; one shaped like the Grinch and the other like Santa. As he sets them down on the counter in front of him, beside the bag of pretzels that he sticks his hand into again, he notices a glass container full of brown powder that he assumes is her hot chocolate mix.

“Is this your hot chocolate mix?” He asks, just to be sure.

“Yes,” Y/N nods, “I honestly make myself a cup almost every night during the colder seasons.”

“Are you a coffee or tea person?” Harry asks, keeping his eyes on the container as he twists it open and sees a metal teaspoon measuring cup inside already. He starts to scoop some into each mug as he waits for Y/N’s answer. Although he is very aware of her possibly liking coffee, considering how he’s seen her with many Starbucks cups before.

“Yeah, I enjoy both too. I have way too much coffee during my work days, and tea reminds me of the days at my grandparents,” she explains, watching Harry scoop her preferred amount of mix into each mug without even asking. She smiles softly, seeing him reach for yet another pretzel too.

“Are you saying tea is for old people?” Harry questions, raising a brow as he peers at Y/N in the corner of his eye. Y/N rolls her eyes, a smile still on her lips. Her kettle begins to squeal into the air, but she’s quick to turn and take it off the heat. She turns off the stove and uses a tea towel to bring it over to the mugs - Harry steps back out of her way, but not before grabbing the bag of pretzels.

“Old people and the British too, of course,” Y/N teases.

Harry chuckles, “of course,” he says in agreement. He waits till Y/N fills the mugs and sets the kettle back down on the stovetop before he steps back to the counter and wraps a hand around the handle of the Grinch mug. Y/N is quick, stepping towards him and gently slapping his hand.

Harry flinches his hand away and raises a brow at Y/N, jokingly taken back by her action. Y/N bites down on her bottom lip to prevent herself from giggling over how cute that look on his face was.

“I have whipped cream that’s in a can, but it’s still good,” Y/N states, giving him a look that said ‘back off and let me do this’. Harry only chuckles again and nods. “Also slow down on the pretzels, if I don’t get any during the movie I’ll be very upset.”

“They’re addicting, sorry,” Harry mumbles through his mouth full of pretzels, a smile tugging at his mouth.

“Trust me, I know. That’s like my fourth bag this week, I swear,” she states with a chuckle.

As Y/N walks to her fridge Harry steps up to the mugs once more and takes a chance on the drawer directly under them for a spoon. His instincts are right as he pulls the drawer open to see her utensils; he grabs a teaspoon in order to stir the hot chocolate. Y/N turns back from the fridge with the whipped cream can in hand, turning around to see Harry focused on the mugs. She smiles, tilting her head as she watches him nudge the drawer closed with his hip, and begin to stir the contents of them till the powder was all mixed in with the water. Look at them being all domestic, she thinks. Licking her lips, she shakes her head a little and walks up to Harry, shaking the can of whipped cream and waits for him to finish stirring. He sets the spoon in the sink and watches as Y/N tops off the mugs with a heap of whipped cream.

“You better actually eat the whipped topping this time,” Harry says to her teasingly, referring to when they had hot chocolate in the park, and she let her whipped cream melt. Y/N chuckles and brings the tip of the whipped cream can to her open mouth.

She puts pressure on the top again and makes the sweet cream pile into her mouth as she tips her head back, the aerosol can is the only noise in the room as Harry watches her do it. His breath catches in his throat and he blinks several times as he imagines an entirely different scenario with this whipped cream can and her mouth. Y/N brings the whipped cream away from her mouth and swallows, watching Harry do the same thing - did she make him feel uncomfortable? She thinks to herself as she licks her lips and looks down at the ground. Don’t overthink it, don’t overthink it, she thinks while walking back to the fridge to return the whipped cream to the shelf. When she turns back, she sees that Harry has both mugs in his hands.

“Maybe I should just have both of these, since you’re probably full from that mouth full of whipped cream,” Harry teases her, bringing both mugs to his lips, acting as if he’s going to slurp up the whipped topping that’s nearly flowing over the side.

“Absolutely not,” Y/N gasps, reaching forward quickly for the Grinch mug, but Harry moves it out of her grasp faster.

“I want the Grinch one,” he says with a slight whine to his voice. Y/N can’t stop the giggle this time, blushing afterwards as she thinks of how freaking adorable he is.

“Fine,” she sighs and takes the Santa mug from him instead.

Harry grins and lets her lead the way back into her living room, the bag of pretzels in his other hand. Y/N sets her mug down on the coaster on the coffee table, just like she had with her glass of wine the last time Harry was over. He watches as she sits cross legged on the floor in front of her tv stand. Y/N grabs the two movies she was debating over earlier in each hand and lifts them up for Harry to see. He loves them both of course.

“Which one? I can’t decide,” Y/N states. Harry hums and lifts his mug to his lip to slurp up some whipped cream.

“Elf,” Harry answers, “I’m in a Will Ferrel comedy kind of mood,” he adds.

“Alright,” Y/N chuckles under her breath and turns away from Harry to open her DVD player and then open the case for Elf. He liked that she had the movies on physical DVD, not just clicking away on a streaming app. She places the DVD in the player and then closes it again before standing up quickly and skipping over to the couch, plopping down excitedly but gently that Harry isn’t even scared that he’ll spill his hot chocolate.

“We can watch the other one next time,” Harry suggests, feeling brave in the moment as the trailers start to play softly on the screen and Y/N is reaching for the remote that sat on the coffee table. She looks at him and smiles.

“‘kay, yeah, next time,” she pauses but then points the remote at Harry. “But next time you’re hosting, I feel like we should switch it up sometimes,” she adds and waits to see Harry nod with a smile before she turns to the TV and gets to the main menu of the movie.

“Fair, I just think my place lacks the holiday cheer that we would want,” Harry explains. Y/N stops her from hitting play right away and leans back into the couch, flopping her head to the side to look at Harry. He’s still holding his mug, which reminds her that her own is sitting there untouched, so she sits up again and grabs it.

“Well you know what would fix that?” She questions, bringing the mug to her lips and slurping up some of the whipped cream that was in fact already melting. Harry watches her as her eyes are glued to her mug, focused on not spilling it over the sides it seems.

“Decorations?” He asks, still watching her. He smiles as she licks her upper lip that’s covered in melting whipped cream.

“Exactly,” she nods enthusiastically. She takes another few sips of her hot chocolate before leaning back into her couch once again, getting all snuggled up before lifting the remote to the TV and hitting play.

“I’m not really good with decorating - my sister and mom did my apartment to be honest,” Harry admits. Y/N watches the opening scene of one of her favourite Christmas movies, feeling all giddy inside as it’s the first time she’s watching it this holiday season. She gets like this every year with every holiday movie.

“Well, I can help you out. Maybe we can do a little trip to Target before our next movie night. Then do a quick set up and then watch the movie after,” Y/N suggests, nervously peering over at Harry over the rim of her mug after. She doesn’t know if she’s crossing a line or anything. She just wants to spend more time with him, even if it’s just as friends.

Harry gives Y/N a half smile, one of his dimples making an appearance as he looks into her eyes. He would love that, honestly. The idea of them wandering through the Christmas isles at Target as she gives him advice on what decorations would go together and fit his apartment style; they would set up the decorations after and he’d watch her be in her element. Maybe he’d put on some Christmas music and hope she would dance around. Harry gives Y/N a short nod.

“I like that plan,” Harry tells her.

Y/N smiles and nods back at him. “Then it’s a deal, we’ll set a time after the movie. It’s about to get good,” she says, looking back at the TV screen again as Will Ferrel’s character makes his appearance.

“The whole movie is good,” Harry states.

“Shh,” Y/N hushes him, taking another sip of her drink and keeping her eyes on the movie. Harry smiles and watches her watch Elf. He notices her hand gently tapping the cushion between them after a moment. Harry chuckles under his breath and nudges the bag of pretzels open, taking a few for himself before facing the bag her way. Once she’s got one between her teeth she feels completely content.

She’s got a cup of yummy hot chocolate, her favourite snack, Christmas lights are twinkling around her, one of her favourite Christmas movies is playing, and she’s with good company too. In fact, she finds herself not once thinking of Mark the rest of the night. Even in her dreams, it’s Harry, again.

They exchanged phone numbers. It’s not a big deal, Harry thinks to himself as he gets a third text from his newest contact in his phone. But it felt like a big deal; it was an easy way to get a hold of her whenever he needed to or wanted to even. Not that he would just bother her for no good reason. As much as he’d like to text with her all day, he knows that they really just exchanged phone numbers in order to plan to hangout easily. Like for today, Y/N had a long work day, but still wanted to take Harry Christmas decor shopping, so she was asking him if he could just meet her at the closest Target.

There’s one a few blocks away from the apartment, I’ll send you the location, are you able to meet me there? She texts along with a Google Maps link to the store. Harry tapped out a response right away, letting his focus sway away from the TV show he had on when her name lit up his screen.

Sounds good to me, what time? Harry hits send and notices the bubble with three dots pop up right away. She must have a moment at work right now; he checks the time to see it’s just past noon, assuming she’s on her lunch break.

I should be leaving the office by 3pm today, then it’s like a 15 minutes subway ride and 5 minute walk to get there for me. So like 3:30ish, is that okay with you? Wait. Are you busy today? I didn’t even ask if you were working too, sorry. She sends the texts in a few separate bubbles, realizing that she didn’t even ask if Harry was working or not today. Y/N has no idea what the schedule of a songwriter was like. Harry chuckles at her little panic and types out his response.

Super busy…. Watching mindless TV shows on Netflix. He adds a laughing emoji for good measure, to which Y/N replies with some of her own laughing emojis before saying God I wish that was how my day was going.

Y/N ends up texting Harry her whole lunch break. He asks about what she’s been doing today, his responses seeming very interested in the adventures she has had in the office being a stand in model since her measurements were close to a clients. She then asks what show he’s watching, to which he tells her about this Netflix baking show called Sugar Rush and he tells her about the challenge the contestants on the most recent episode endured. Y/N finds herself smiling at her screen, nearly forgetting to even eat her lunch. Sammy clears his throat just a few minutes before their time is up and causes her to look up at him, raising her eyebrows at his own.

“What?” She asks, stabbing her fork into the salad she had Sammy pick up for her earlier.

“Nothing,” Sammy hums, Y/N rolls her eyes. “Just noticed you’ve been quite busy on that phone of yours for the past, oh, I don’t know, twenty five minutes,” Sammy teases her, eyes widening slightly and motioning his hands in the air with his words. He did that a lot, talking with his hands, that is.

“So?” Y/N tries to brush off her friend's pushy behaviour.

“So? Really? We’re just going to act as if you’re not giggling at your phone screen like a little school girl?” Sammy questions.

“I am not doing that,” Y/N huffs.

“Yeah, sure, sweetie and I’m straight,” Sammy rolls his eyes dramatically and then pouts while shaking his body in his seat. Y/N furrows her brows at his behaviour. “I live off your love life. Please give me something, anything. Please just tell me that you’re talking to that hot neighbour of yours and let me continue on my merry little day knowing that your love life is about to be thriving while mine is dead.”

Y/N sighs and tries to ignore as her phone vibrates again, signalling that Harry had texted her back. She sits back in her chair and crosses her arms over his chest, covering the deep v-cut of her black body suit that she was wearing with a pair of red slim legged slacks, and a matching red blazer that was currently laying over the back of the chair she sat in. Amanda didn’t have any sort of dress code for work, merely to come in looking professional and stylish, which for Y/N, meant a good pant suit moment every once in a while. But with still keeping it sexy and young by pairing it with a bodysuit.

“Fine, I’m texting Harry,” Y/N tells Sammy, feeding into his gossip need for the day. “We actually hung out two night ago, he came over for a movie night-”

“What?! Why am I just hearing about this now?” Sammy questions, sitting up quickly and throwing his hands in the air. “What happened? Touching? Did you kiss? Oh my lord, tell me what his peni-”

“Sammy! Oh my god, relax, please,” Y/N cuts him off, putting a hand up to stop him from talking. “Nothing happened. Sorry to disappoint, but I am still in a relationship with Mark. Harry just came over, we made some hot chocolate and polished off a bag of those delicious candy cane pretzels.”

“Those pretzels are good,” Sammy nods in agreement.

“Yeah,” Y/N nods, “but anyways, nothing happened, and nothing is going to happen. We’re just friends, and I enjoy being around him a lot. So, today after work we’re going to Target to buy his apartment some decorations, then we’ll probably order in some food and watch another movie.”

“Sounds pretty couple-y to me,” Sammy says in a high pitched tone. Y/N just shakes her head and rolls her eyes at her friend again.

Y/N couldn’t lie, though. The few hours later in Target, they looked like a couple. Harry pushes the cart down the aisle while she tilts her head and debates which tinsel really fit Harry’s aesthetic. She brings the Starbucks cup to her lips and sips the warm caramel flavoured latte. Y/N was pleasantly surprised when she saw Harry walking up to her outside the Target with two Starbucks holiday cups in his hand. He gave her a timid smile and explained what both of the drinks were, saying he hadn’t tasted either and wanted to see what she wanted first before taking the other for himself. It was unexpected and ridiculously sweet of him to do.

“I think red would look really nice around your apartment, kind of spice up the place a little,” Y/N explains, her free hand skimming over the many different tinsels that were hanging up before her. Harry agrees, red would look nice in his apartment and spice things up a lot, except his mind is thinking of this red pant suit she’s wearing right now. He thinks it would look rather nice on his bedroom floor.

When she walked up to him and he took in her outfit, he nearly tripped over his own feet and spilled the two coffees he brought with him. But he kept himself together, well, sort of. He stumbled over his words, rambled like a fool about why he got the two coffees for her, but they finally got into the store, which now, he’s just been checking her out as they walked to the Christmas section. Get it together, Harry thinks to himself.

“Red’s nice,” Harry says, his voice cracking slightly. So, he clears his throat and steps away from the cart to pick up a piece of tinsel that Y/N was looking at. “I like the bit of silver mixed in too,” he comments.

“I was thinking the same thing,” she says with a smile before grabbing four more of the same one and adding it to the cart. Harry does the same with the one in his hand and then puts his hands on the cart once more, pushing it back and forth just a few inches. Harry can’t stop himself from admiring that suit once more as she bends down to check out the many different boxes of tree ornaments.

“Which ones?” Y/N asks, quickly turning her body. Y/N catches his gaze on her body, but Harry blinks quickly and meets her stare. The corner of her lips tug up into a smug smile at the thought of Harry checking her out.

“The ones in your, uh, your right hand,” Harry answers her questions, clearing his throat again and watching as she stands straight before putting the ornaments into the cart.

They continue their way through Target, still looking very much like a couple as they grab a few bags of the candy cane pretzels that Y/N got Harry hooked on the other night before heading to the check out. Harry insists on paying for the few little items of Y/N’s in the cart, telling her over and over again that it wasn’t a huge deal. He almost doesn’t let her carry a single thing, but she quickly gets a hold of a standing Santa decoration that was too big for a bag and hugs it to her chest their whole walk home.

Harry unlocks his apartment door for them, noticing how their neighbour Mr Matthers is opening his at the same time to peer out and see who’s in the hallway. Harry holds open the door for Y/N, she thanks him in a small voice and smiles at him. Looking back out into the hallway, Harry waves at Mr Matthers, who simply returns it with a scowl on his face before Harry steps inside and shuts the door behind him. Suppose their neighbour is a bit jealous of Harry, he’s seen the way he looks at Y/N. Hell, especially today in that suit, everyone on the street was looking at Y/N with wide eyes and big smiles - Harry felt like quite the lucky guy, little did everyone know they were in fact not together. Just friends, Harry reminds himself for the millionth time.

“Oh, I love the tree,” Y/N states, her voice bringing Harry back to Earth as he locks the door and walks over to his coffee table to set down the many bags in his arms. Y/N is still holding the Santa decoration to her chest, looking at the fake Christmas tree he had purchased on Amazon yesterday on a whim. He was thinking about them decorating together again, and thought that it wouldn’t feel right if he didn't have a tree too. It’s a good thing he told Y/N over text, otherwise they wouldn’t have gotten ornaments or anything for it.

“Yeah, I just got the first one that included lights on Amazon, to be honest,” Harry tells her. Y/N chuckles and walks over, setting the Santa decoration just beside the tree gently.

She brushes a hand over the tree and smiles, “it’s wonderful, really pulls the whole festive look together in my opinion.”

“I agree,” Harry nods. He grabs for the TV remote and turns it on, quickly turning the volume down before he sets it up to the music channels - clicking on the Christmas tunes without a second thought. Y/N watches Harry, her heart hammering in her chest as the soft sounds of Michael Buble fills the room. Mark would never do any of this - he wouldn’t voluntarily put on Christmas music, ever. In fact, he shut off the station in her car on the way to the airport. And he definitely wouldn’t decorate with her either, seeing as he thinks that her apartment looks childish. She pouts at the thought of her and Mark’s phone call the other day. He hasn’t called or texted her since.

“Did you not want to listen to Christmas music?” Harry asks suddenly, snapping Y/N out of her thoughts and turns to look at him. He’s taking off his jacket, revealing a white shirt underneath with a bumble bee and some blue writing around it, paired with his purple trousers and a pair of white socks on his feet after slipping out of his shoes too. Y/N loves his simple yet not basic style.

“No, no,” Y/N assures him, finally unbuttoning her blazer now and taking off the mittens and beanie she had worn in the cold. She stuffs them into the blazer pocket and slips out of it. “I love Christmas music so much, honestly maybe a little too much, Mark hates it,” she admits.

A shiver falls over her body as she realizes then she’s simply in the rather thin bodysuit that also dipped very low in the front. Y/N doesn’t look at Harry as she feels her nipples harder from the coolness of his apartment, embarrassed as she didn’t prepare for her attire after going out. Harry suddenly lifts up a hand, his pointer finger up as if to say ‘one second’, then he’s walking down the hallways and returns not even a minute later with a black sweater in hand.

“It’s clean, just washed today, I promise,” Harry tells her, holding out one of his favourite jumpers for her. He had been given a few merchandising pieces from the label over the years and this plain black jumper that read ‘Columbia’ on the front in white has been in his possession for a couple years now. In his opinion, it was very comfortable due to how much he’s worn it.

“Thank you,” Y/N says softly while taking it from him.

She puts it on and is immediately warmer. Her hands cover completely because of how long the sleeves are and it falls down past her bum too, due to the large size. She looks good, Harry thinks as he takes in her wearing his clothing. Y/N smiles and turns to grab things from the Target bags they had just brought in.

“Okay, let’s begin with the tree then,” she says excitedly, trying to clap her hands together but just ends up smacking the sleeves of Harry’s hoodie together.

It’s just as Harry imagined it. The soft lights from the Christmas tree glow over the shadows of Y/N’s face as she wraps the red tinsel around the base of it before passing it to Harry in order for him to reach the taller portion of the tree. She dances when Jingle Bell Rock plays on the TV, his jumper swaying around her body because of how big it is on her. They’re both smiling and singing along to the music, jokingly of course. Harry wasn’t about to show her all his little secrets and start belting out White Christmas along with the singers of Wham!

“Can you pass me a couple of the silver balls?” Y/N asks Harry, her eyes on the tree as she put the last red ball ornament she had grabbed onto a branch. Harry raises his eyebrows in a joking manner.

“The what?” He questions, but still making his way to where the array of different coloured ball ornaments laid on the couch.

“Like two of the balls,” she says again. Harry laughs, his eyes crinkling up and his dimples fully showing as he does. Y/N furrows her brows, but then gets why he’s laughing. “You’re a child,” she scolds him playfully.

“I couldn’t help myself,” Harry states, grabbing two of the ornaments she’s asking for and passing them to her.

“Thank you for the balls, Harry,” she says. They both end up laughing this time, she can’t help it. His laughter is contagious with how his eyes squint up and his dimple somehow deepens, not to mention the little vocal ‘aha’ he does before laughing. It makes Y/N’s stomach ache, not from laughing too, but with the butterflies. Those stupid little butterflies that have made a home inside of her stomach since meeting this kind, handsome, British man.

Once the tree is done, Y/N beats Harry to ordering them food. They decide on getting sushi, which is something she could never order with Mark since he has this personal vendetta against seafood for some reason. But Mark isn’t on her mind for long. It’s all Harry, all the freaking time. She likes how he beams a winning smile at the delivery guy and thanks him three times in the sixty seconds he’s at his door, and how he barely pays his phone any attention the whole night besides when it chimes with a few texts that he explains is his workmates group chat. Now, she can’t stop watching him chew his food; how his jaw flexes with each bite and how his eyebrows furrow when he can’t get the chopsticks to grab the California roll he wanted. Why do I find him eating so attractive? Y/N shakes her head slightly and forces herself to look back at the TV that’s playing the Sugar Rush show on Netflix that Harry was texting her about earlier.

Harry collects their take out containers after a few moments to ensure that Y/N is done, asking her just to be sure she doesn’t want the two pieces that are left over. She thanks him, but says no, and he manages to grab all five containers in one trip to the kitchen. His mom most definitely raised him well, Y/N thinks as she lays back on his couch and watches the TV show. It suddenly hits Y/N, his brows pulling together as she pushes herself to sit up and turns her body to look behind her through the open concept to look at Harry.

“Are you going home for Christmas?” She asks him. Y/N assumed home was England, besides obvious factors, but she remembers him telling her about driving in London once. Harry brushes his hands on a tea towel that's hanging off his stove before turning to walk back into the living room.

“Um, no, not this year,” Harry says.

“Oh, do you typically go home and visit your family? You mentioned your mom and sister had decorated this place though, do they live here?” She throws the other questions his way as he walks around the couch and sits in his spot again.

“They all live in England, yeah,” he nods, “my mom, my step dad, older sister and her boyfriend all flew out here with me to help me settle in the few years back when I got my job. But I do usually go home for holidays, or just casually during the summer. Earlier this year I had to make an unexpected trip,” Harry pauses and clears his throat as he looks away from Y/N as he feels that familiar pain in his chest, “my step dad passed away. So it just took a bit of money out of my account, I decided not to fork out the money for expensive flights during the holidays.”

Hearing that Harry had lost his step dad recently torn Y/N’s heart in two. She frowns, taking a deep breath before reaching over and placing a hand over Harry’s that rested folded in his lap. Harry looks at where their skin touched, it felt like his hands were vibrating under her touch. She swipes her thumb over his knuckles, the touch so soft like a feather just barely skimming over his skin. Harry has to stop himself from flipping his hand over slowly and intertwining their fingers together. She has a boyfriend, she’s just being a good person and comforting a friend.

“I’m very sorry to hear about your step dad, Harry,” she soft and gentle voice, rubbing the pad of her thumb over his knuckle again as she watches him inhale deeply through his nose.

Harry clears his throat of the threatening tears and shakes his head slightly, a piece of his hair falling onto his forehead as he does. He takes one of his hands and lays it over Y/N’s, giving it a few pats. Tonight had been good

and fun, and he didn’t want to go ruining the mood with his tears. So, he lifts his head and looks at Y/N, finding her somber eyes staring at him already. He forces a smile, licking his lips before clearing his throat again.

“Thank you,” he says, “I don’t want to make this good night all emotional now, so yeah, the short answer is I’m not leaving the city for the holidays this year. I do have a trip planned in March to see my mum for mothers day though,” Harry explains, rubbing Y/N’s hand that’s between his.

Y/N mirrors his smile, although it’s not as full as usual, a bit sad still as she thinks about what Harry and his family must’ve gone through this year - and that his mother won’t see her son her first Christmas without her husband to top it all off. Maybe she could buy his flights? But no, no she couldn’t, she thinks sadly. They sit there like that for another moment, her hand between his much larger once, and they stare at each other. Finally, Y/N lets out a sigh and tries to get out of her head before she ends up crying. Harry lets go of her hand slowly, and she brings both hands to her face to brush back her hair. Harry does the same to get the strand of hair that had fallen on his forehead back into place.

“Well I’m glad you can go see your mom for mothers day, at least,” Y/N says, looking at the positive. Harry nods and then leans back, throwing an arm over the back of the couch to stretch out.

“Yeah, me too,” he agrees, “she’s already telling me all about the plans she’s made for my trip and talks my ear right off as if it’s happening tomorrow.” Harry tells Y/N with a chuckle.

Hearing his little laugh brings a real smile to her face this time. “I’m sure she’s counting the days till you fly in,” Y/N says. She is starting to feel a little tired as she lays back on the couch, laying her legs out on the chaise. Harry watches as she pulls the sleeves of his jumper back down, she had rolled them up while eating so they didn’t get in the way, but he likes the sweater paw look on her as she snuggles into the couch.

“Do you spend Christmas at home still?” Harry asks her, keeping his voice soft as he realizes it’s gotten late and both their eyelids are getting heavy.

“My parents have something on Christmas Eve, sometimes I spend the night, other times I make my way home,” she exclaims vaguely.

Y/N doesn’t love her times at home anymore; she finds her parents ‘I’m too rich for anything' attitude to be tiresome. As she grew up into her own person, she realized the privilege she had with the wealth she grew up with. She started to see how pointless some parties her mother threw, and how little she would have to try to just coast through life. Y/N didn’t want to grow up like every other bratty kid on the Upper East Side, so she moved out right after graduation, got into fashion school, focused on herself, and earned her own money - all while learning of how to use her privilege for good, like donating her time and money to good causes. Something her parents only did to look good within their social circle.

So, going back home for over the top holiday parties, getting gifted a new car every year, and seeing her parents throw their money at whatever, really only bothered her more than anything. Y/N would simply stop in for Christmas Eve, enjoy a few hours with family and then go home to her own world again.

A yawn slips past Y/N’s mouth as she’s deep in thought, which then makes Harry yawn as the both of them bring their hands to cover their mouth and then letting out soft laughter afterwards. Y/N sits up and stretches both arms above her head. “I guess I should head home,” she says before standing up slowly.

“Yeah, you’ve got a long way to go,” Harry jokes.

“Oh yeah, it’ll take me ages,” Y/N adds onto the joke with a smile. “Thank you for having me over, I really enjoyed it,” she says.

Harry nods, “well thank you for helping me with all this,” he says, motioning to the decorating they had done. They both glance around the room then at their work. The red and silver decor matched Harry’s aesthetic perfectly, just as Y/N thought it would.

“We didn’t watch Polar Express,” Y/N realizes suddenly, pouting.

“Next time, Y/N,” Harry chuckles. She huffs and lets out a sigh, muttering a quiet ‘fine’ before making her way towards his front door. Harry follows behind her, planning to lock the door and listen till she gets into her own apartment before getting ready for bed.

“Should I text you when I’m home safe? It’s just so far away,” Y/N continues to joke around, causing Harry to smile as he watches her grab her blazer and slip into her shoes.

“You never know, Mr Matthers across the hall could intercept you on the way home and kidnap you. I wouldn’t sleep till I got that text knowing you got home safely,” Harry says, half joking. Cause you never know with Mr Matthers, he thinks. Y/N laughs and hugs her blazer to her stomach while standing beside the door, reaching for the handle but keeping her gaze on him.

“Mr Matthers is harmless,” Y/N says.

“He’s obsessed with you,” Harry counters back. Y/N just rolls her eyes and unlocks the door before swinging it open.

“Goodnight Harry,” she says sweetly.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Harry says back with a smile. She mirrors his smile and then walks off into the hallway. Harry watches the door shut behind her and walks over to lock it before turning off the few lights in the living room and entryway. As he is turning off his TV his phone buzzes with an incoming text.

Made it home safely and in bed! Sweet dreams read Y/N’s text sent seconds ago. Harry breathes out a chuckle as he walks down the hallway to his bathroom to begin his nightly routine. As he turns on the light for his bathroom he types back a response. Cheeky.. Sweet dreams Y/N. He turns off the screen before he stands there and waits for her to reply with anything, his heart would even flutter over an emoji.

He was so far gone for this girl, he couldn’t stop himself from falling any longer - but it had felt inevitable from the moment his eyes had met hers in the elevator.

>> part three <<

thanks for reading, please reblog/leave some feedback if you enjoyed it! until next week 😘

*like this post if you’d like to be added to the cstsyl taglist!*

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #boyfriend!harry #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles concept #1dff #cstsyl

414 notes · View notes

janetbrown711 · 4 years

Note

"how do you think this ends?"

Despite Lena’s hopes and dreams that when the morning came everything would feel as right in the world as it had when the little family had fallen asleep, it wasn’t true. When she awoke (for whatever reason, she was the first), she walked out of the room and was immediately surrounded by maids and servants pestering her with their endless questions. Of course, she knew why they were asking, she was supposed to be dead.

She did her best to explain the situation and told them that her mother had died in an avalanche at Acme Falls. This, however, made the situation worse, as then officials and advisors soon got word and started to try and plan things out with her, and Lena wanted none of it. It was early- hell, she was still in her nightgown and robe. She just wanted to take an early stroll around her home, but nope.

Then again, what did she expect? Come back from the dead and people are going to have questions.

Still. Being swarmed with questions and having plans and ideas thrown in her face that early was too much. She yearned to return to bed, but by the time she successfully convinced them to stop, it was likely too late.

So instead, she went to the kitchen and began to chop up some fruit, a skill she had gotten quite good at over the past year. She couldn’t do a lot, so she liked to help Helloise and Doctor Scratchnsniff prepare food, usually while they talked about things. Now all Lena could think of as she chopped was that of her offer.

She had written a letter last night asking for their assistance. In all honesty, she was ashamed. She thought returning home would do a lot to heal everything they went through over the past year, but Dot’s nightmare quickly told her otherwise. Because of her nativity, she had to write a letter offering and asking them to come to the palace to be the royal psychologist and counselor not just for Dot, but likely Wakko and perhaps even Yakko too. Goodness knows all of her kids must’ve been through hell under the care of her mother.

Lena paused and placed a hand on her cheek. She sighed.

Lena continued cutting fruit.

She hoped they were hungry- she was making a lot- goodness.

Well- she knew Wakko would be anyway. Her poor boy... he was so light to carry. Angelina must’ve locked him in the tower before the Wishing Star, and probably didn’t feed him.

Her mother deserved far, far worse than death.

But it was what needed to be done. She didn’t regret it. Not one bit.

Hopefully, they’d use all this food for the picnic they’d be having-

It was still winter. Snow was outside. They couldn’t have a picnic.

No. They’d just have one inside. It’s what Wakko wanted- who was she to take that away from him?

She continued to cut, despite realizing she lost count of how many kiwis, strawberries, and star fruit she had sliced by now.

“Mom?” Wakko came out of nowhere, startling Lena and she cut her finger.

“Gah- Jesus Wakko, you can’t sneak up on me like that,” She quickly began to suck on it and look for a towel.

Wakko froze, dead in his tracks.

“I-i’m sorry, I-i didn’t mean to- I-i-” He stumbled over his apology.

“It’s alright, Wakko, I’m not-” But by the time Lena said that, he had run out of the kitchen.

“Dammit, Lena, now look at what you’ve done,” She muttered to herself, wrapping a rag around her finger and running off to go find Wakko.

Day one and she was already screwing up.

“Wakko? Where are you?” She called, looking under hall decor, behind curtains, and in almost every room she walked by.

“Wakko, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap like that,” She said, hearing sniffles come out of one bedroom. Lena knocked on the door softly.

“Wakko?” She said.

“I-i said I’m sorry, go away!” He shouted back.

“Wakko, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize, it was I who snapped at you,” She placed her hand that didn’t have a towel around it against the door.

“Go away! I only get people hurt,” He cried more.

“Wakko honey, no,” Lena wanted to go in, but the door was locked.

“Wakko, whatever your grandmother told you, she was wrong. You’re such a wonderful kid- energetic, compassionate, brave, and you give the best hugs,” She countered his statement. The prince paused.

“B-but it’s my fault D-dot died... they were aiming for me,” He countered, his words becoming mumbled.

“Wakko, it’s nobody’s fault but your grandmother and she’s already paid the price,” She said.

“She can’t hurt you anymore... so please... come out? I promise I’m okay.”

Wakko was quiet. Lena bit her lip.

“If you come out you can have a snack in the kitchen,” She said. Wakko must’ve responded positively to that because before she knew it there were shuffling noises, and he opened the door, though unable to make eye contact with his mother.

“I’m hungry,” he said.

“I know honey, let’s get you some food and water- I bet you’re dehydrated too, especially after all that crying,” Lena said, offering her hand. Wakko took it.

“Yeah,” was all he said. Lena gave his hand a comforting squeeze as they made their way back. Once there, she lifted him on the counter and started slicing more fruit, everything from apples to bananas, and handing them to him once finished. He ate slowly, but it seemed to be doing him a lot of good, as his mood increased dramatically once he got some food in his system.

“You feeling better?” She asked him. Wakko nodded. “Good,” Lena smiled and ruffled his fur a little. Lena always found it funny how he often liked to sleep with his red hat on, but who was she to judge.

“Now honey, I want to make things very clear with you: everything your grandmother ever told you or made you feel is false okay? I don’t want you saying it, I don’t want you thinking it. You are so much more than she ever thought, understood?” She placed her hand on his cheek, stroking his face with her thumb. Wakko leaned into it, nodding.

“Okay,” he agreed. Lena smiled softly.

“It’s not gonna be easy to undo what she’s done... but we’re going to figure it out together, understood?” She said. Wakko nodded again, eating an apple slice.

“I haven’t told your siblings yet, but in roughly a week's time, the good doctor from Acme Falls is going to start working at the palace to help you three heal from the abuse my mother put you through. He’s an emotions doctor and he’ll help you feel better, does that sound like something you want?” She said, going back to cutting fruit.

“Okay,” Wakko nodded, his tail twitching curiously. “What about you?” he asked.

Lena paused. “What about me?”

“Will he be helping you?” Wakko asked innocently. Lena looked down at her hands, then at the 20 or so fruits she sliced this morning.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I’m going to have a lot more responsibilities than what I’m used to in the upcoming days- I’ll likely be too busy.”

“But you should be okay too,” Wakko frowned, reminding Lena of how observant he could be.

“I’ll be okay Wakko- I promise,” She looked at him. He scanned her face a minute before either believing it or just dropping it and going back to his apple slices.

After a moment of more slicing and handing to Wakko, Lena spoke again.

“We’re going to be having a picnic today, just like you wanted,” She said. Wakko’s face lit up.

“Really?! Isn’t it snowy?” Wakko tilted his head.

“We’ll be having it inside, but I think that hardly makes a difference. What do you think?” Lena asked him.

“Okay,” he gave a toothy grin.

“Good,” Lena nodded. “How about you go and get dressed and get your siblings ready so we can do that soon, hm?”

“Okay,” He said, jumping off the countertop, and scurrying out of the kitchen.

Good. At least he was somewhat back to his old self. That meant there was hope after all. He was still a kid- he deserved to be happy and young while he could.

With a sigh, Lena began to get bags out and put the sliced fruit into separate bags as kitchen workers started to come in and began preparing their breakfast. Once Lena finished, she quickly apologized and got out of their way, explaining what was going to happen later with the picnic and all. They understood, and she left.

Now she was on her own again. And still in her nightgown- Lena really needed to get changed. Quickly she went back to her room and went to her closet to get dressed but her fingers hovered over her dresses. It had been so long since she wore something so fancy... Would it even feel right anymore?

Of course it would, she was born a princess, she was just being ridiculous... right?

Lena sighed and changed into her usual purple dress.

Today was going to be interesting.

.o0o.

And interesting it was. Home for less than 24 hours and already advisors and courtiers were already throwing piles upon piles of papers onto the poor queen-to-be. After signing about fifty billion documents, she finally got them to leave her alone, stating she made plans with her family she fully intended to keep. Thankfully, since she was in charge, nobody argued otherwise, though she knew they were likely doubtful. She did her best not to dwell.

By the time she did finally join her family in the room they were having their picnic, Wakko and Dot were already finished with their food and running around chasing each other, nearly running into Lena as she stepped in, though they both paused to give her a hug before running off again.

“My, they’re energetic today,” Lena chuckled as she joined her husband and Yakko on the pillows.

“Last night was probably the best sleep they’ve gotten in a while, nightmare or not,” Yakko shrugged, eating a piece of bread.

“I don’t doubt that... I slept pretty well last night too,” William said mostly to himself, looking at Wakko and Dot fondly.

“It really has been a year, hasn’t it?” Lena looked at Yakko, sadness in her eyes. “We’ve missed so much...”

“Not a whole lot... I mean- there were birthdays and stuff, but not... well...” Yakko was reluctant to finish the sentence, but Lena understood perfectly.

“Not much good, no?” Lena sighed. “I’ll never forgive her for this... for any of this.”

William and Yakko nodded supportively.

“But... Dot’s birthday was nice. I even managed to sneak a cake, and we all had a big sleepover, which was fun,” Yakko said. Lena smiled a little.

“That sounds lovely,” She said, sipping some tea.

“It was,” Yakko smiled at the memory.

“Oh! And we continued teaching Wakko to read,” Yakko remembered to tell.

“Really? Oh, that makes me so happy Yakko,” Lena side hugged him.

“We were so worried that Angelina wouldn’t let him and he’d forget,” William admitted.

“We had to do it behind her back, but I definitely think we made progress,” Yakko smiled, proud of himself, and rightfully so.

“I’m absolutely thrilled to hear it. You did a very good job taking care of your siblings in our absence Yakko, I’m very proud of you,” She kissed the top of his head.

“Thanks, mom,” Yakko teared up a little, and he quickly wiped it away. Lena didn’t comment, smiling softly.

“I’ll never forgive her for this.” The thought repeated in her mind. Anger returned.

“So, what took you so long?” Yakko asked.

“Paperwork. I’ve a coronation to set up by the end of the week after all,” She tried to laugh at the dread facing her.

“What about Grandma’s funeral?” Yakko asked.

“She isn’t going to be getting a funeral,” Lena said.

William blinked. “Are you sure that’s best?”

“Doesn’t every royal get a funeral? I mean- she even held one for you two...” Yakko said quietly.

“It’s unprecedented yes, and will perhaps even look bad to the people. However, once we explain everything that happened, I’m sure the people will be more than happy and most importantly on our side,” Lena sipped her tea.

“I guess that makes sense,” Yakko shrugged a little. William sighed.

“Lena darling, I know it must be difficult, but she was the queen after all-”

“She committed treason on the highest offense, William.” Lena snapped.

“I know, but well- hasn’t she already paid the price?” He said in a hushed tone, even though Yakko was still right there.

“It’s not that I think she deserves one, Lena. I’m just concerned that the people won’t understand and that it’ll cause them to turn against you,” He clarified softly, touching her arm. Lena swiped it away.

“I know full well what I’ve done,” She stated sharply. “And I don’t regret it. Let the people be upset if they will, they’ll get over it.”

Wakko and Dot stopped running by then, now looking at their parents, confused.

“Lena, darling, perhaps we should take this outside,” William sighed. Lena looked at her children before sighing and nodding.

“We’ll be back shortly... carry on until we get back,” Lena said, placing a hand on Yakko’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze before standing up and going. William followed in suit.

William stood by the door a moment, making sure they weren’t listening in. Lena paced across the hall, holding her arms.

“Well?” Lena asked him.

“Well, what?” William questioned her harshness.

“Well, what’ve you to say? You asked us to leave the room and we’ve left, so what’ve you to say?” She asked, digging her fingers into her arms.

“Lena darling... I just thought perhaps it wasn’t best to discuss such matters in front of the children,” William said softly. That didn’t make Lena feel any better.

“William, I’m tired of pretending I care about her,” Lena looked out a window. “I don’t want to waste a year of my life wearing all black and veiling myself pretending to weep over what I’ve lost. I can’t even fathom pretending to care a day,” She admitted.

“Of course,” He nodded slowly. The queen-to-be glanced at him.

“You aren’t going to argue otherwise?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Lena darling, I love you with all that I am. I trust your judgment. I’m simply trying to look out for you, that’s all,” William went to her.

“I love you too William,” She said. “I just... I know what I’ve done. I don’t regret it.”

“My dear... you keep saying that,” He took her hand and kissed it.

“It remains true,” Lena took a step away.

“Lena, who are you trying to convince?” He asked honestly.

“I... nobody,” She said quickly.

“Lena-”

“Nobody, William,” She closed her eyes and turned away from him.

She didn’t regret it. Her mother had to die, and by her hand.

There was no other way.

“There was no other way,” She said aloud.

“My love, you’re trembling,” William worried.

“She didn’t love me. She never did- even as a child. She shouted, she pulled the flowers out of my hair, she grabbed me, she blamed me for Father’s death, she... she hurt Wakko, she locked him up like some animal and then she... she killed Dot. She had to die, William,” She still didn’t look at him.

“I know darling...” He approached her slowly.

“A-and even if she had loved me at one point... if she brushed my hair, or sat with me in portraits, or picked out a dress she saw me admiring, it doesn’t matter. She killed our baby girl... she had to die,” Lena looked him in the eyes, though the sympathy was almost too much for her.

“My love, I know... What you did was incredibly difficult,” William said, wiping a stray tear from her face.

“Why though? Why was it difficult? After all that she did to our children, it should’ve been easy,” Lena argued.

“Lena, I do not know,” He sighed, stroking her face with his hand softly. “I’m not a psychologist or anything of the like... but I assume it’s because- well... she was your mother.”

“Hardly...” Lena muttered to herself.

“Despite everything, she still was. You can’t deny that,” He said. “And despite everything, you’ve always been slow to retaliation, so of course it’s taking a while to process what you’ve done.”

“I thought you said you weren’t a psychologist,” Lena joked a little. William chuckled a little.

“I’m not dear... though perhaps you really should take up Scratchnsniff’s offer,” William said.

“I wrote for him last night. He’ll do the children lots of good,” She said.

“That’s not what I meant,” William gave her a look.

Lena paused, sincerely thinking about it.

“I’ll be woefully busy... I’ll hardly have the time,” Lena said.

“We’ll make the time,” He countered.

“William- I just... I don’t know...” She turned away.

“Lena... please? I worry about you,” William held one of her hands in his and gave it a squeeze. Lena said nothing.

“My dear, you deserve to be at peace. Ever since I met you you were burdened by your mother’s actions, and now that she’s gone, you can finally find peace,” He said with a small smile. She could hardly look at him now.

She was an adult. Almost queen. She should be able to handle this on her own.

“If not for yourself, then can you at least do it for them? For...me?” He pleaded quietly.

Lena looked at the door a long moment, practically seeing her children leaning up against it (which she knew they likely were).

“William I don’t know if I can find peace...” She whispered.

“Can’t we at least give it a try, my love?” He whispered back. She looked at him. His eyes... those warm, dark, familiar eyes had brought her so much love and comfort over the years. So much love and worry...

Lena knew she’d do anything for him.

“I can try,” She nodded slowly.

“Really?” He smiled a little.

“I’d walk through hell and back for you, my love,” Lena placed a soft hand on his cheek. “I think I’ll be able to believe in myself a little for you too.”

“Thank you,” He kissed her wrist before pulling her in for an actual kiss, which she gladly returned.

However, the kiss didn’t last too long before a chorus of voices behind the door grew louder and before they knew it, the door opened, Yakko, Wakko, and Dot spilling out with it.

“Darn it Dot- you got us caught,” Yakko shook his head.

“Haha... hi,” Dot sheeped. Lena rolled her eyes.

“Mind telling me why you were listening in to what was supposed to be a private, adult conversation?” She teased, helping them up and off each other.

“Uh... curiosity?” Wakko shrugged. Lena laughed.

“Can’t deny that I suppose,” She ruffled his fur. Wakko smiled up at her with his tongue sticking out. She missed that smile.

“Well... the day isn’t over yet... what do you three want to do?” She asked.

“Can we hear a story?” Dot perked up and asked.

“Yeah! A story!” Wakko agreed. Yakko snorted, giving his silent agreement.

“It’s nowhere near bedtime,” William said. “What are we going to do then?”

“We can handle two stories,” Dot rolled her eyes. William chuckled.

“That you can... that you can,” He said, stroking his mustache.

“How about this: I’ll tell you a bedtime story if you’ll help me out with this one, hm?” He offered, winking at Lena to boast his cleverness. Lena rolled her eyes.

“Okay!” The younger warner siblings said in agreement.

“But first we have to clean all this up- can’t be leaving everything out like this,” Lena remarked, going back into their picnic room. Quickly, the children ran in and began picking up any toys they had brought in, folding blankets, and putting back pillows where they belonged, while Lena and William dealt with the food.

“Quite the plethora of fruit you prepared for us this morning,” Willaim commented as he cleaned.

“I do it when I’m stressed,” She shrugged. “You know this- you were there.”

“I know,” he teased. “They were very good.”

“I didn’t grow them,” Lena rolled her eyes, teasing him right back.

“It’s our garden. I think we ought to have some claim,” He shrugged. Lena rolled her eyes again.

“You say that like we don’t get most of our fruits from the farms-”

“Actually, we get our apples and citrus from the farms. The starfruit and berries were from the garden,” Yakko snuck up from behind, folding a blanket.

“Who’s side are you on?” Lena gave him a look. Yakko laughed.

“Checkmate,” William grinned.

“I hate you,” She snorted, putting the bread into a bag as Yakko disappeared to put the blanket away.

“You love me,” William elbowed her lightly. Lena chuckled and continued to clean without comment. However, a thought slowly dawned on her and she paused.

“Lena..?” William noticed.

“Sorry, I’m just... thinking,” She shook her head and continued.

“Thinking of what?” He asked.

Lena thought about how best to say it.

“I suppose... well... I don’t know. I just-... Do you really believe any of this will ever truly be over?” Lena asked him.

William sighed. “I really hope so... it may not be today, or tomorrow, or even the day after, but in my heart I know one day we’ll finally be truly happy and free from her and her effects.”

“What do you think it’ll be like when that comes?” She asked him. William smiled.

“Well... I imagine there’ll be dancing under a sky full of stars. Music playing softly in the other room, while we just have all the time in the world to ourselves, knowing Yakko, Wakko and Dot are safely tucked to sleep- or even if they aren’t we know they’re safe. They know they’re loved, we know we’re loved, you know you’re loved,” He said, a far-off look on his face indicating he had given this thought before. Lena smiled.

“Dancing under the stars... I’ve missed that,” She agreed with him.

“Perhaps we’ll even go to the garden. We’ll sit on our bench by the fountain where I first proposed to you and we’ll just sit and reflect on the good times we shared, and the good times yet to come. It won’t be the end, after all. There’ll still be a lifetime ahead of us,” He said. Lena closed her eyes, envisioning it.

“That sounds lovely,” She smiled and opened her eyes.

“One day,” He said with a wink.

“We’re doneeee, can you tell us the story now?” Dot ran up to them, grabbing William’s leg. He laughed.

“Alright, c’mon,” He said, peeling Dot from his leg and picking her up instead. Wakko went to Lena and held her hand. She gave it a comforting squeeze, not that either was nervous. Yakko walked on her other side.

Together, the family all went back to the familiar playroom and settled in for storytime with Dad.

Effortlessly he weaved a tale about a beautiful princess, a handsome knight, and a fearsome dragon. Had it been done before? Of course, but it was the audience’s choice and they missed the cliché. He spoke of everlasting love, the princess and the knight saving each other numerous times, and eventually how they lived happily ever after and created a land of prosperity, peace, and love- unlike the age of the Dragon. It didn’t take a genius to figure out his inspiration for such a tale, but it was interesting and exciting nonetheless.

After that, Lena and William played with Yakko, Wakko, and Dot with their dolls, playing a game similar to the story, but with its own twists (like the Princess being fire breathing and could transform into a giant lion and the knight was secretly the God of Thunder) until it was eventually time for diner.

After that, William read them a bedtime story, this time of a lonely siren and a sailor who nearly drowned, which captivated Wakko and Dot easily, though Yakko was tired, and barely awake by the end. Then, they checked for monsters for Dot (a new concern of hers), after which Lena sang them their lullaby and they all went to sleep.

And so several days passed in such a way. Lena would spend her mornings over paperwork and giving signatures and statements and writing to other kingdoms in preparation for her coordination while William watched the kids, and in the afternoon she’d join them for lunch and for some quality family time until it was eventually time to sleep and the cycle would start over. As much as she hated the paperwork portion of her days, she couldn’t deny the quality time made up for it. Seeing her children slowly regain their spirit filled her with more happiness than she could ever describe, especially with the help of Doctor Scratchnsniff.

Ah, yes. Doctor Scratchnsniff. At first, the children were hesitant to meet with him, but after Lena and William offered to sit in with them for their appointments (for the first one, at least) they agreed.

Dot seemed to be liking him, though she found him and his accent strange at first. However, the doctor reported she was already off to a good start and even after meeting twice he said she was making good progress. That was good to hear at least. The sooner her PTSD was gone, the better.

It was evident Yakko liked him less so, but Lena and William weren’t surprised by that. His issues were with being fiercely independent and untrusting so naturally, it was going to take a while for him to open up, which they were okay with. They had all the time in the world now.

Wakko, however, never wanted to be alone with him. He always had Lena sit with him through his appointments, either clinging to her arm, or sitting in her lap the whole time as she stroked his ears or rubbed his back soothingly. He hardly spoke a word at first, which was expected, but the doctor didn’t seem to mind. Hopefully, progress would be made with time.

Lena eventually found time to make an appointment of her own. It felt... odd, to say the least. She was used to the loving and kind support from William, but opening up to Scratchy was a different feeling entirely. She didn’t have to fear what he thought, as he was trained to listen and help. She liked that.

What she liked less was reflecting on her childhood. So many feelings and emotions and twisted memories she didn’t know how to look back on. He said this was natural for victims of childhood neglect and abuse, and she couldn’t deny that.

However, she was processing now. Moving on, as he described it. Acknowledging what happened was the first step, moving on was the next. It was... interesting. Then again, these were only the beginning steps. She still had lots and lots of work to do, but she had all the time in the world.

The days passed in such a sequence, that the day of her coordination threw her off guard. Heck- she had hardly noticed that when she had awakened, maids and dressers were immediately there to get her in the gorgeous cerulean blue, and gold dress they had made for her. It wasn’t until they were trying to comb through her hair she realized the day was special. Sure- she wasn’t normally dressed by handmaidens, but in all fairness, she had just woken up.

Oh god- it was finally happening. Important guests from kingdoms all over were going to arrive to watch her rise to the throne and accept her fate and destiny as the next queen of Warnerstock.

Hell- it felt like Lena blinked and suddenly she was waiting for the doors to open so she could walk down and accept the crown and say the lines and well- get coronated as Queen. She was wearing the nicest gown she’d ever worn in her life, and her ears were unbound, as she was no longer wearing her princess crown anymore.

“You ready Mom?” Yakko asked, adjusting his fancy little outfit. Lena thought he as well as the rest of the kids looked adorable, though it was clear he was rather uncomfortable with the lapels and sash. Still- that didn’t stop Lena from wishing she could get a portrait of him done.

“Hopefully,” Lena laughed through her nervousness.

“You’ll be great, I know it,” Wakko grinned up at her. Lena smiled at him, before noticing his sash was on the wrong shoulder and she fixed it.

“Yeah! You’re super nice and pretty and you’ll be a great queen,” Dot encouraged.

“You’re too sweet, darling,” She thanked her before standing.

“You’ve nothing to worry about, my love,” William placed his hands on her shoulders. “We have your back, it’ll be okay.”

“I’m the luckiest queen-to-be in the world,” Lena chuckled.

“Yep!” Wakko agreed.

“Your highness? They’re ready for you,” said one of the officials. Lena took in a deep breath and nodded.

“Well... let’s go,” She gave them a nod. Her family gave her quick grins and thumbs up, before the door opened, and the ceremony officially began.

The ceremony went perfectly as planned. Not a word nor person was out of place. She recited the vow of protection and service perfectly, didn’t flinch when the cold metal of her new crown touched her head, and even managed not to flinch at the mention of her full name (though she could still feel the internal dread of it). She recited her speech to the people perfectly, gaining their understanding and support with her carefully crafted yet heartfelt words, and eventually, the ceremonies were over and the festivities began.

Quickly, the children ran into the outdoor courtyard with many of the other royal children from nearby kingdoms, and music began to play. However, this wasn’t the stuffy, snooty music her mother would’ve chosen for her coordination, no. This was Lena, and she chose something exciting. A new beginning. Songs that make you kick off your shoes (if you wore those) and dance in circles until you pass out from exhaustion you didn’t know you had because you were too busy being swept away by the fun of it all. Lena danced with her new subjects and partners in foreign policy all day, and even a bit of the night as the sun eventually went down, only stopping when the feast began, or the band needed a break, but then returning right away.

She hadn’t felt this alive in years, and Lena was determined to never let it go. This was what freedom was. This was what life without her mother’s control could be, every day. People laughing, cheering, celebrating, being together and safe and happy.

People were happy.

Lena was happy.

Yakko, Wakko, and Dot were happy too, even mingling with children from neighboring kingdoms, with Yakko even finding himself fascinated with a certain dog prince that she and William gave a quick thumbs up to, embarrassing him deeply. Eh, he’d get over it. They were back, and that meant embarrassing him to his crushes- even if he just met them that night.

Wakko and Dot were having fun dancing, and drawing chalk on the ground. Wakko proved himself to be quite the artist, as while he danced he dragged and drew with his tail, and before anyone knew it the whole floor was a Wakko art piece. Sure, it may have stained their feet, but it was truly something to behold. Dot, on the other hand, was chatting with other princesses and citizens, charming them with her classic wit and cuteness that made Lena proud.

And William? For the first time in what felt like forever, he seemed to be enjoying himself too, the worry that was constantly behind those deep, dark eyes she loved so dearly being practically gone. Instead, joy and excitement, as well as love was shining back, as he spun and lifted and danced alongside her to the exciting music of the band. The couple had never felt so alive and free.

Eventually, though, all good things come to an end, and guests slowly began to leave, saying their quick goodbyes to the new Queen, wishing her luck, and promising their loyalties and hopes for the future. It saddened to see things coming to an end, but eventually, the band began to play much slower, softer music, and William took her hand in his and they slowly began to sway under the starlight.

“I told you you had nothing to worry about,” William smirked.

“I know, you’re always right, blah blah blah,” Lena snickered.

William laughed. “I’m serious though, I’m extremely proud of you. You’ve come a very long way for it being less than a month since returning.”

“And here I thought it was already a year,” Lena joked, referring more to the neverending piles of paperwork she managed to go through in such a short time than her time with her loved ones.

“Lena, I mean it. I’m incredibly proud of you,” William made sure she knew it.

“Thank you, dear,” Lena kissed him. “I couldn’t have done this- any of this without you.”

“I know,” He said with a small smile. Lena snorted a little, before stepping closer and leaning against him as they swayed together.

“How’s this for a perfect ending, hm?” he asked.

Lena thought about that, looking around the more than half-empty courtyard.

Wakko was curled up into a ball on a pile of pillows nearby a firepit, looking perfectly warn out and warm. Dot was drawing with chalk next to him, looking half asleep as well. Yakko was telling a story to his new friend, though it was very clear that friend was going to have to leave soon, but whoever was in charge of the boy clearly didn’t have the heart to break the two up, which Lena couldn’t say she blamed them for. They were cute. Kids- but cute.

Then she looked back at William. The love of her life. The man who never once left her side and carried her through the worst moments of their lives, and somehow made it out alive. She kissed him again.

“It’s not completely perfect... but it’s a damn good start,” Lena smiled.

“A damn good start indeed,” William grinned.

And it was a damn good start. After all, Queen Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the Second was married to Sir William the Good, and had three beautiful children she loved more than anything in the world. Her mother was dead, and couldn’t hurt any of them anymore. There were no more secrets, no more lies, and no more abuse.

Together, the Warners were entering a new era; an era of peace, of love, of great healing, and great togetherness. After all- the old queen was dead, proving once and for all that nothing could or ever would keep them apart for long.

They were together now, and together the Warner Family was unstoppable.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 The End

128 notes · View notes

lucysweatslove · 2 years

Text

Journal 8/15/22

I woke up a bit slow this morning with about 6.5 hours of actual sleep. Took me about half an hour to fall asleep, which is my usual. I’ve been trying out some new sleep hygiene tactics, particularly not forcing myself to stay in bed and “try to sleep” if I’m not feeling READY to sleep. Instead, I’m trying out planning at that time to help reduce my anxiety about the morning. I think it’s helping somewhat, but I’m still going to bed pretty late. I was talking with Husband about my sleep and how difficult it is to find a good time to workout now, and I think I may try to workout at night if I’m not too exhausted to drive to the gym.

For breakfast I had some protein cereal with a banana. I use the Darigold Fit 2% milk, which is my favorite because it’s so creamy and doesn’t upset my stomach at all.

I had to work today, just 10-2, but of course I needed coffee because of how tired I was. Work sucked less than normal because the doctor I was working for did over half the notes herself 🙃 I don’t actually mind because… I’m leaving in less than two months!!! I think I have 8 weeks left!! So it is coming up!

After work, Husband and I had our last marriage therapy session. Husband feels like we got what we needed out of it as a couple and has been checked out the last idk maybe 2 months; I’m still going to maintain biweekly sessions for myself though as I have a lot of anxiety that we could work through, and as I submit my applications, I’m worried about how we will handle the potential move. I like knowing that we can transition to a couple’s session if we need it.

Anyway, after therapy I had lunch, which was a turkey and provolone sandwich with plenty of red leaf lettuce and tomatoes. Blueberries added for color today. Look at that cross section! I know it’s not much/fancy, but I love sandwich cross sections.

I had to go drop off my Apple Watch today too. I had one for about a year, as I bought it as a graduation gift to myself. The EKG app stopped working in November, which was concerning because that’s when I passed out at my husband’s surgical center in his recovery room and the nurse thought it looked like a seizure. I was using the app to reassure me of my heart heath since I was worried that my syncope was cardiogenic. Anyway, I decided not to pursue repair because I didn’t want to be without my watch, but a week ago Husband gave me a new one (he bought one and then decided he didn’t want it anymore), so I decided to give my old watch to my sister… but I wanted to fix it. I had to discuss with Apple Support who made me drive 150 miles to our nearest apple support place (literally just a Best Buy’s geek squad)… only to have the employee/tech tell me it’s a hardware issue and I would need to send it in. Literally I spoke to him for 5 minutes.

On my way home I picked up Oreo from daycare. He’s a goofy little guy.

I did started some laundry, received my fourth (and final) LOR, and then Husband decided he wanted dinner. I left my dinner plans pretty open because it’s usually our only social meal, if we decide to eat together that day, but he wanted to just make himself a leftover wrap and eat himself. BUT, he also made a salad (spring mix, cucumber, green onion, and some cheddar cheese), and he made extra for me too.

Obviously, a basic green salad wasn’t enough for dinner, but it had only been 3 hours since lunch so I wasn’t too hungry. I cooked a Tofurky Italian sausage and added in some Italian dressing to make it more substantial, though if I had been hungrier I would’ve needed some additional carb. Note: photo taken halfway through.

Because my dinner was so light though, I did get hungry a couple hours later and wasn’t sure what I wanted..

And so when Husband pulled out the turkey jerky I forgot about, I had some turkey jerky and cantaloupe.

I’m now almost done in the tub listening to some podcasts and finishing up my digital planner for tomorrow. I’m hoping this will reduce my anxiety tonight and help me sleep better!

#personal #photo journal #journal #what i eat in a day

5 notes · View notes

aceofspadegrass · 3 years

Text

Breakfast with Squirrels

Characters: Tatta Koudai, Arisu Ryohei, Aguni Morizono (Although never named.)

Genre: Fluff. Just Tatta having a nice morning. Then nearly getting attacked by Catra.

1.5k words

Tatta woke up with the sound of squeaking and sun gently filtering through the window. He yawns, sitting up and stretching as he feels his hat get dragged along his lap, a slight pressure underneath. Tatta opens his eyes and grabs the top of his treasured hat, the head of his good squirrel friend Henry peeking out as Tatta pulls his hat on. Tatta gently pats the top of Henry’s head with a finger, the squirrel chittering and climbing up Tatta, crawling underneath his hat. Tatta actually isn’t sure how Henry could breathe up there, but every time he checked Henry was completely okay.

“ Okay, time to start the day. I’ll grab you some food when we head down, okay?” Tatta tells Henry as he heads to the bathroom to do his morning routine. Afterwards, he starts his trip downstairs, waving a greeting at every person he passed with a smile, even as most of them ignore him, too involved with themselves to really acknowledge him.

That didn’t matter right now, Tatta didn’t mind. He heads to the dining hall and into the kitchen, which was a little filled with people preparing breakfast for the day, Tatta carefully avoiding their paths to get to the pantry. Pulling out a bag of hazelnuts and some dried bananas, he fills a small bowl with them, along with grabbing himself an apple to eat himself. Tatta heads outside and sits at a table, setting the bowl down and tilting his hat up so Henry could climb down. The squirrel opts to crawl down his face today, Tatta chuckling in amusement as Henry climbs over his neck to get down to the table, taking his arm like a train rail. Henry makes it to the bowl, happily munching down on the items offered. Tatta eats his apple and watches Henry chew at the hazelnut shell with the determination of a warrior, and moves his attention to around the dining hall. It was full of people waiting and eating their own breakfasts, a few tables still empty as it waited for others to soon wake up and take their places.

Nobody came to sit by Tatta, but again, that was alright for him. His friend wasn’t usually awake at this time anyways, so Tatta was allowed a moment of being alone with his squirrel friend. He doesn’t exactly remember where Henry even came from. It was just a case of finding a squirrel that ended up living with him, happy enough to hide underneath his hat at all hours of the day. Henry at least stayed behind before games, Tatta not wanting to accidentally hurt his small rodent friend in any of the games.

As he watches the people come in, and as people are served their daily breakfast from the kitchen, he sees Arisu walk in by himself, watching something that went along the floor, obscured by the tables so Tatta couldn’t properly see what it was. Tatta raises a hand to wave at Arisu with a smile, Arisu actually looking over and smiling back with a wave in return.

That at least made Tatta’s day, and Arisu comes over to Tatta, sitting across from him.

“ Hey Tatta, what’s up?” Arisu greets him, and Tatta can only shrug. He was a little tired from having to roll tires across the Beach after someone moved the tires and switched them with the pool floats, as well as the game he participated in last night. It was a simple one at least, nothing too taxing on him. He still doesn’t know why the game involved hiding a pineapple on his person, but who was he to judge the games. They could get terrifying, and a game of hide the pineapple wasn’t too bad.

“ Nothing much. I don’t think I have anything to do today, actually! I think I’m just gonna take the day to relax. Maybe by the pool!” Tatta tells Arisu, Henry loudly chewing on a piece of nut. Arisu smiles a little at that, and looks away briefly, thinking about something. Tatta just finishes his apple while he waits, Arisu eventually looking back at him.

“ Wanna hang out with Usagi and I? We might be by the pool today as well, chatting about random things. If you don’t mind.” “ Of course not, I would love to hang out with you guys!” It sounded like a nice plan, hanging out with Arisu and Usagi. Tatta thought they were really neat people, and nice too. Tatta liked their company.

Arisu goes away for a bit to grab himself food, leaving Tatta all alone again with Henry, who was still eating. At least, was eating, until something spooks the small squirrel, Henry scrambling up to higher ground and settling on the very top of Tatta’s head. Tatta was confused, and he looks around, only to freeze when his eyes look eyes with a lynx, very much staring up at Tatta.

The lynx had a little harness on it, curiously enough, like a dog. Attached to said harness was what appeared to be a knife of all things, unsheathed and very dangerous to anyone who dared even brush past the beast. “ Wh- Huh? Why is there a whole like….. giant bobcat here-“ Tatta leans away from the lynx, as if that would help anything, the animal only stalking closer. Henry makes a noise, clinging to the top of Tatta’s hat for dear life, Tatta’s heartbeat racing. He really didn’t want to become lynx chow, especially here, where he was supposedly was safe from the dangers of being outside and surviving on his own.

The lynx licks its lips, and pounces, Tatta shutting his eyes and expecting an impact.

Only…. that impact never comes, and Tatta creaks open an eye, only to see the lynx hanging there, that spooky military guy with the scar holding it by its harness with an almost disappointed dad look. He looks to Tatta, who was trembling a little, and then back at the lynx in his hand, which he near tosses off, the lynx racing off from them, deterred from trying to try again.

“ You’re alright now.” That was all the man said before he leaves, Tatta trying to calm his poor heart from whatever that was. He reaches up to check on Henry, the squirrel curled up further back on his hat, his tiny squirrel heart beating just as quickly, if not more. He leaves him up there to recollect himself, hoping the undue stress didn’t hurt his friend. Tatta wouldn’t like it if Henry left him so soon. He’d probably cry if that did happen.

Arisu comes back with food, and pats Tatta’s shoulder with a concerned smile when he saw Tatta. “ You okay? You’re a little pale. Here, have some milk.” Arisu hands him his carton of milk, Tatta trying to deny it at first, but Arisu’s worried face made him rethink it. He takes the milk with a small thank you, and sips a little, taking a deep breath.

“ What happened while I was gone?” Arisu asks when Tatta felt more stable, Henry deciding to hide under his hat for his own personal comfort. Tatta looks to the side, where that man and the lynx disappeared off to, people going in and out and keeping Tatta from really knowing whether they were still in the dining hall at all. When he felt like there was no danger, he turns his attention back to Arisu, who chews on the end of a cereal bar.

“ We…. almost got attacked by a really huge grey cat.” Tatta answers. “ It was like a bobcat, but not brown like I expected? Like a tiny snow leopard.” He pauses, trying to think of the name. He wasn’t really a master at naming specific animals though, just the basics, really.

“ Oh, I know what you’re talking about! Yeah, I was watching it earlier. It has a knife strapped to it, right?” Tatta nods, eyes widening. “ Exactly! That was so weird, right? Why is it armed with a knife?” Arisu shrugs. Tatta didn’t get it at all. It seemed kind of dangerous to arm a predator with a knife when it had knives quite practically built into its paws. But then again, at least it wasn’t armed with a full on turret or a gun. Or even worse, armed with rocket launchers. That would be a sight to see.

Hopefully he didn’t run into it the rest of the day. He wanted to hang out with Arisu and Usagi in peace.

…. Tatta probably jinxed it though. He sighs internally. Maybe if he’s lucky he can outrun a cat with a knife. Or at least hide before it got him and Henry. There was no way he was fighting off that.

The slight movement underneath his hat takes him out from his thoughts. No, of course he’ll be fine. Henry will be fine, he’s gonna make sure of that! Just gotta…. make sure not to cross the knife wielding lynx. Easy enough, it can’t be that hard.

He’s probably jinxing it again.

#aib #alice in borderland #aib fanfic #alice in borderland fanfic #tatta kodai #arisu ryohei #morizono aguni #henry the squirrel is back #the laws of henry breathing under that hat works against the laws of everything #this is ratatouille domain i guess #i mean they're both considered rodents so....#does that mean tatta is linguini? i just now realized #i don't even know if henry knows how to cook #also catra is here #no niragi though #tatta deserves the world #aguni is an absolute unit if he can hold catra like a naughty smol cat

14 notes · View notes

izzielizzie · 3 years

Note

could u do a short Rosalind and Tommy fic?

This is by no means short and also it’s not that great but enjoy anyway! Also? the football coach? Definitely took some inspiration from my soccer coach.

Tommy was having, to put it plainly, a terrible day.

It had started that morning, when he awoke to the most obnoxious bang he had ever heard. Not fully awake yet, Tommy jumped, falling out of his bed.

"Where's the canon?" Tommy mumbled, running his fingers through his rumpled dark hair. It took him a moment to realize that he wasn't talking to anyone. Tommy made the effort to scramble off the floor and venture out of his room, calling for his parents as he looked into the rooms of his house. Empty. He glanced out of the kitchen window and saw his older brother Nick in the driveway. "Nick?"

"Out here Kid!" Nick called back from the driveway.

"Obviously," Tommy mumbled. Nick was back from the military for a two month long vacation, something that had been as much of a surprise to Nick as it had been to his loved ones, and in the past three days Nick had managed to cause general chaos on their beloved Gardam Street.

Tommy pushed through the side door, bypassing the coat rack on his way out. This was his first mistake.

He stepped into the frigid early December air to see Nick staring into the hood of his car.

"What was that noise?" Tommy asked, stepping up next to his brother.

"The car, I -"

"Hello," a voice called from across the street, interrupting Nick. The brothers turned to see Rosalind, Skye, and Jane Penderwick trekking across the frost covered street to their house, Jane in the lead, waving at them. "Whoops," she said as she nearly slipped. Tommy saw Skye roll her eyes at Jane, but he looked past her at Rosalind. Tommy smiled at her, despite the intense shivering that overtook him. She looked adorable in her beige peacoat and black cap that looked a little like a beret, sitting jauntily atop her curls. Rosalind raised a hand to wave at him, and Tommy waved back.

"You're going to get a cold," Rosalind said as a way of greeting when the sisters reached Tommy and Nick.

"No I'm not," Tommy responded, pulling her into him for warmth anyway. She giggled and rested her head on his chest, her arms around his waist.

"So what happened to the car Geiger?" Skye asked, punching Nick in the shoulder gently.

"Not sure," Nick says truthfully.

"Maybe the battery was stolen. We know how to put it back," Jane said, peering into the car, mimicking Nick's stance.

"No we don't banana head," Skye said, kicking at Jane's slippers with her own. Unlike their older sister, Jane and Skye were still wearing pajamas underneath their heavy sweaters. "We know how to remove one though," Skye added as an afterthought.

"Maybe not mention that out loud," Tommy joked as the rest of the Penderwick family approached them, Batty and Ben in the lead, Ben holding his sister's hand.

Nick instantly turned to swing Ben high above his head. "How are you doing on this fine morning Bravo-Echo-November?"

"Golf-Oscar-Oscar-Delta," the boy giggled as Nick placed him on his shoulders.

"Ugh Nick, don't encourage him," Rosalind said from her place in her boyfriend's arms. "He's been using that alphabet for the past two days."

"Buck up Rosy, Ben's learning how to spell," Mr. Penderwick said, clapping Tommy on the shoulder.

"Car trouble?" Iantha asked pleasantly, the last one to arrive. Like her step-daughter, she was dressed in her day clothes.

"It would seem so Iantha," Nick said solemnly. He brightened instantly though. "How's the baby?"

Iantha smiled like she did every time Nick asked that question. "Very good at sapping my energy," she said with a smile as she put a hand on her stomach.

"My brother's gonna be as cool as you!" Ben informed Nick with a little clap.

"Ben dear, the baby might be a girl," Rosalind said, shaking Ben's little foot from his high perch.

"No," Ben said in his stubborn voice. Rosalind rolled her eyes, but Tommy knew she was not actually upset. She loved Ben too much for that.

"Well, how will you get to school Tommy?" Batty asked, speaking for the first time. Both Geiger brothers looked at each other, not considering Tommy's options for getting to school.

"Are your parents at work?" Mr. Penderwick asked. He was dressed for work too, and Tommy noticed the car keys dangling from his hand. Both boys nodded. Tommy turned to Rosalind.

"Can I go with you Rosy?"

Rosalind's face fell. "Oh Tommy I'm sorry, but I'm not going to school remember?"

Oh. Rosy had taken the day before winter vacation off to drive to Rhode Island to take a self-guided tour of Brown, a college on her list for years.

"I remember. It's okay."

"Tommy if you're ready Iantha and I can take you on our way to the university," Mr. Penderwick said.

"It'll have to be right now though," Iantha added. "We have to go to the kindergarten and the elementary school first to drop off Ben and Batty."

Tommy looked down to his pajamas and his bare feet, which were becoming numb. "I might not be ready in time," he said.

"Why you can walk with us!" Jane said brightly. “And tell us about Russian class and your football team!”

Skye rolled her eyes again. As a freshman, Jane was still too excited about being in high school, and her excitement oozed into everything she said and did.

“But we need to leave soon too. I have a question for my physics teacher,” Skye added.

Tommy agreed, and the two families dispersed, leaving Tommy to quickly pull on his warmest clothes and brush his teeth. He decided to forego breakfast, since Skye was ringing their doorbell incessantly.

“Hey Nick, where’s my hat?” Tommy called to his brother, who was getting ready to go back to bed after calling the towing company.

“Mom sent it to the cleaners!” Nick called back over the doorbell.

Right, Mrs. Geiger - fed up with the mud Tommy got on his winter clothes - decided to send all of his outerwear to the cleaner, forcing Tommy to wear one of Mr. Geiger’s old jackets. Tommy - after realizing that he could search for the hat and annoy Skye and himself or just leave - called goodbye to his brother and stepped out. It somehow had become even colder than it had been earlier.

Tommy walked to school behind the sisters, letting their conversations drift towards him as he shivered violently. As they neared the school, Jane looked back at him.

“Are you alright?”

“Just cold.”

“Shall I bathe your forehead?”

“Jane stop with the forehead bathing. Not all ailments need you and your cold washcloths,” Skye said giving Tommy an apologetic look.

“Why do you always ask?” Tommy asked, genuinely curious.

“Because no one ever said yes,” Jane said irritably.

Tommy shook his head at Jane as his stomach rumbled. He ignored it.

He spent the next three and a half hours ignoring his stomach until his lunch block.

“I have never seen you walk so fast,” Brendan - one of his football teammates - said as they headed to the cafeteria.

“I haven’t eaten all day,” Tommy responded.

“Why?”

“Long story,” Tommy responded as he fished around in his school bag for his wallet. Tommy searched for a few moments, growing more and more panicked until he realized that his wallet was always in his gym bag which was always swung over his left sh-

Wait.

“Brendan have you seen my gym bag?” Tommy asked frantically as they stepped forward in the lunch line.

“No, you didn’t have it with you in class.”

“Oh no,” Tommy said, realizing that he had put his gym bag in Nick’s car.

“What?”

“It’s in Nick’s car.”

“Can’t you go to the main office and call him? I mean he remembers how scary Coach is. He’ll drive it over.”

“Yes he would, except his car was towed since a pipe burst or something.”

Brendan nodded wisely. “Always the pipe.”

Tommy shook his head in exasperation. “What do I do?”

Brendan put a placating hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “The team will pool our money, don’t worry, and we’ll deal with Coach when we cross that bridge.”

Between Brendan and their teammates, they managed enough money for an apple, a bag of pretzels, and a carton of milk, which Tommy only managed to eat before the bell rang for their next class.

“Alright students, pull out your group projects, we’re presenting today,” their history teacher was saying as Tommy and another of his teammates - Jackson - entered the room.

“Group projects?” Tommy asked Jackson as they sat in their seats in the middle of the room. Tommy usually sat in the back, but Rosalind was in the class and she liked to sit in the front, so they compromised.

“Yeah. About the Silk Road? Remember? You worked with Rosalind.”

“And she’s not here,” Tommy whispered harshly, briefly wondering how his day could have gotten this bad.

Jackson made a face of comprehension. “Sorry Geiger, you’re on your own.”

They turned to their teacher as he started speaking. “Going alphabetically, Tommy Geiger and Rosalind Penderwick are first to present.”

With a sigh, Tommy raised his hand. “Yes?”

“Sir, Rosy - that is, Rosalind isn’t here today.”

Their teacher sighed. “Then present on your own please.”

“But, Rosalind has the project.”

“Why didn’t she give it to you?”

“She must have... I mean, I must have forgotten.”

“You forgot?” The look Tommy was receiving was worse than any of Rosy’s withering looks. Tommy sank down in in his seat a little as Jackson flinched sympathetically next to him.

“Yes sir.”

“Well, I hope you understand this will be reflected in both of your grades.”

“Yes sir, I know sir,” Tommy said, mentally kicking himself. He didn’t care much for his grade but Rosy had worked so hard, and he hated for her to not get the marks she deserved.

Tommy passed the next two classes in a blur tired hungry, cold, and more importantly, incredibly angry at himself for letting Rosy’s grade slip.

He let himself wallow in self pity until he stepped out into the football field and realized - to his dismay - that it was snowing. And not the delicate flurries that had been falling on the walk to school. No, this was the heavy, wet snow, the kind that could block roads and make passing drills rather difficult.

“Alright boys, into your workout clothes. Snow never stopped football players!”

“Have fun telling Coach,” Jackson said, referencing Tommy’s missing gym bag.

“We’ll wait for you in the locker room,” Brendan added more kindly.

“Thanks,” Tommy mumbled as he headed towards his coach. “Coach?”

“Geiger! Into the locker room!”

“Yes sir, I will sir, but um...” Tommy trailed off, shaking his hands to get the cold numb feeling out of them.

“Speak up!”

“I don’t have my gym bag.”

“Why?”

“It’s um, in Nick’s car? And it broke down?”

“Is that a question?”

“No? I mean... no.” Tommy kicked at the snow with his sneakers, not meeting his coach’s eye.

“Well then, you can run laps.”

Tommy looked up. “What?”

“You’re not getting a free pass Geiger.” Coach looked down at Tommy menacingly, as if he thought very little of people who tried to get out of football games. Not many things scared Tommy, but Coach was most definitely on the short list.

“No sir. But what should I wear?”

“Jeans are fine.”

Tommy opened his mouth to ask another question, but his coach was already walking away. With a sigh, he went to the locker room to put his bag away. Thankfully, Brandon offered him one of his sweaters so Tommy would have only a slightly less chance of getting pneumonia.

“Coach was brutal today,” Brandon announced three hours later as the boys headed to the parking lot. Tommy, trailing after them, shivering so violently his teeth were chattering.

“At least you’re not Geiger,” a team member said, doubling back to clap Tommy on the shoulder. His knees nearly locked. “Sorry!”

“It’s f-f-fine,” Tommy responded as they neared the line of parked cars.

“Want a ride home?” Brandon asked.

“He doesn’t need one,” Jackson said.

“What?”

Jackson pointed to an old blue car at the edge of the parking lot, where a figure in a beige peacoat and a black cap was sitting on the hood of the car. Upon seeing the group of boys, the figure slid off the car.

“But Rosy is in R-r-rhode Island,” Tommy said in disbelief.

“Apparently not,” Jackson said with a grin.

“S-s-see you later,” Tommy said suddenly, breaking into a run despite his protesting legs. He barreled towards the car at full force, stopping only to grab Rosalind in a hug and swing her around, despite his screaming muscles. He could hear his teammates cheering somewhere behind them, but he was too busy hugging Rosalind as tight as he could.

“What are you doing here?” he asked into her hair.

“The roads were closed so I cam back home. No point in being stranded in the middle of nowhere.”

“I missed you.”

“Gosh Tommy you’re so cold,” Rosalind said in response, pulling away.

“It’s been a long day Rosy,” Tommy said, brushing snow out of his girlfriend’s hair.

“Wait, tell me in a moment, let me grab something.” Rosalind reached into the car and pulled out a garment bag from the Cameron Dry Cleaners. She unzipped it to reveal Tommy’s jacket, hat, and gloves.

“How did you -”

“I remembered your mother brought them in last week and I needed to pick up some stuff for Batty and Jane. I thought you might be cold without them so I got yours too.”

With a laugh, Tommy reached forward and kissed Rosalind, long and hard. “Thank you. But did you pay?”

“Yes but don’t worry about it.”

Tommy nodded, secretly resolving to pay her back. He knew her family’s finances worried her. Unfortunately, Rosy knew him enough to know what he was thinking.”

“Stop worrying Tommy, really. Here, put these on you’re going to get sick.”

Rosalind helped him into his jacket. He pulled his gloves on, and with a giggle, Rosy pushed his hat onto his head. It didn’t fully sit on his head properly, but she looked so adorable standing on her toes to reach his head that he had to pull her in for another kiss, forgetting about the cold and the snow.

“Thanks beautiful,” he whispered to her.

“Any time. Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

Tommy took his usual spot in the passenger’s side, and Rosalind slid behind the wheel. “Oh, one more thing.” Rosalind pulled a thermos out from the back seat cupholder. “I made hot chocolate. I didn’t get to taste it but-”

Tommy cut her off by pulling her into him in a tight hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you Rosy.”

Rosalind pulled away, laughing. “Of course. I knew you’d be cold. Especially since I heard about your disastrous day.”

“You did? How?” Tommy asked, surprised, as Rosalind started the car and backed out of the lot.

“Skye and Jane told me. Apparently you got yelled at during history?”

“It was project presentation day,” Tommy supplied. Rosalind glanced over at him.

“Don’t worry about the grade. I’ll talk with him.”

“I feel so bad,” Tommy admitted.

“No, it was my job to remember to give it to you. Anyway, it’s winter vacation. Just enjoy the time off with your brother, okay?”

“And you,” Tommy said emphatically.

“And me,” Rosalind agreed. She cut a glance over to him as they turned into the chaos of Gardam street. “I love you Tommy.”

“I love you so much more. You have no idea.”

Rosalind smiled.

#the penderwicks #rosalind penderwick #tommy geiger #nick geiger #skye penderwick #jane penderwick #batty penderwick #ben aaronson - penderwick #iantha aaronson-penderick #martin penderwick #izzielizzie's fics

15 notes · View notes

heliosthegriffin · 4 years

Text

Himbo Dad AU; Breakfast

Achilles opens the door to his house, and then walks into the kitchen his father cooking at the stove, Heracles eating from his dog bowl, loaded full of sausages, bacon, pancakes, hash browns, and eggs, the dogs face covered in grease, Achilles could tell the dog was probably on his second or third bowl though, he’d probably need to eat one more before his food coma could start.

Achilles sat at the large table in kitchen and greeted his father with sleepy yawn. “Mornin, dad.”

Jaune looks over his shoulder at his son, his hands never leaving the stove in front of him as he was cooking enough food for a feast, and greeted his son back in a warm, fatherly tone. “Morning, sleepy one, did you stay up all night at your aunt Saphrons? Or did you get some sleep?”

Achilles blushed a little. “I got some sleep…”

Jaune rose a well-groomed eyebrow. “A little? So, you don’t need to take a nap when you go upstairs? Cause, after breakfast, I’m going on a 100k, and could always use a strolling buddy, if your up for it~”

Achilles paled. “Uh, uh, no thanks dad, I might have stayed up all night with Adrian.”

Jaune sighed and shook his head. “It’s bad for growing boys to stay up all night, but it’s the weekend. Just make sure your ready for school tomorrow.”

“Ugh, school. Why can’t I just go to Sanctum like Adrian yet?”

“You’re only ten, value your childhood while you can.”

Achilles whispers “Yeah, like you haven’t told me all that hundred times.”

Jaune turned his head at Achilles his eyes narrowed. “Hmm, what was that? Sound like back sass, and back sass sounds like another 100-kilometer run, mister. If you really want to give up your childhood and go to Sanctum, you’ll have to start doing those runs every day.”

His son’s tanned skin turned pale at the statement. “Uh, no sir! Sorry, sir! Please don’t make me run with you, it’s like trying to keep up with speeding bullhead!”

Crossing the kitchen with a couple of long steps, and ruffle his son’s hair and puts several plates in front of him. “I’m just playing Killies, I would never make you do something that you don’t want to do, but, I’m just not ready for my little boy to grow up on me. So, please, just stay a little boy for a little while longer? For me?” Jaune says kissing his son on top of the head.

Achilles bats away his dad with a blush, and mumbles out. “Fine… Just long as you train me like you are Adrian, please and thank you.”

Jaune lets out a beaming smile. “It’ll be my pleasure, my little warrior. Now eat up, and get some rest.”

Achilles looks at his plate full of food, with cooked bacon, crispy hashbrowns with cheese and onions, pancakes decorated with his crest of a spear breaking two arcs, with spear being made of strawberries and whipped cream and the arcs honey, scrambled eggs dusted with salt, pepper, and local spices, and then a tray loaded with fruit. Served alongside a glass of tea and orange juice.

Achilles found he didn’t need much convincing to eat up, giving a rushed thank you, and with no thoughts on why his father had made more than ten times the normal amount of food for himself, Achilles, and Heracles.

The boy didn’t notice as several newcomers entered the kitchen, with almost all of them taking a seat around the table, with one going up behind Jaune, having to stand on their tip of their toes, before slipping their arms around his neck, leaning their chest into his back, and laying their head on his shoulders.

“Mornin Handsome~,” Robyn said into his ear.

Jaune shivered slightly at the feeling of her breath on his neck. “Hey there, beautiful, not that I don’t appreciate what your doing, but let’s keep the PDA to a minimum, Achilles is back and I don’t want to give him any trauma today.”

“Oh, is that so? No wonder you had us screaming like little banshee’s last night.”

“First off, don’t make it weird, second off, I have my room sound and vibration proof. Third, I’m making you breakfast, you don’t have to seduce me, you’ve already won.”

“Maybe, I just miss your touch.”

Jaune rolled his eyes and with an impossible to follow speed, he had Robyn cradled in one arm while still cooking.

He gave her a little peck on the nose, causing a blush to run across her tan skin. “There, that make you feel any better?”

Robyn had nothing to say, and merely blushing deeper.

Jaune returned back to cooking, one arm full of a blushing mess.

Achilles finally took a break from inhaling his breakfast to see his table no longer empty, but full of his… He didn’t know what to call them really, first to his left playing his hair was Ms. Fiona who used to watch him when he was little, but still hung out with his dad a lot. He didn’t mind her playing with hair though it felt nice. “I’d envy hair this nice if it didn’t tangle so badly,” He thought he heard her mumble. It was weird seeing her wear dad’s shirts though.

To his right was Ms. Schnee, she liked to do business with dad sometimes, something about hunting for the Argus Military based. But, it always bugged him that an Atlas General liked to a sleepover with dad, besides why did the general deal with contracts for Argus Military base, when she could have people there, do it? When he asked, she just said it was important for Generals to maintain connections with independent powers. Then gave him some lien to go buy a video game or something. Why she wore dad’s pajamas was beyond him.

The rest of the table was filled with Ms. Schnee’s friends? And Ms. Fiona’s friends, and oddly enough Ms. Nikos, their next-door neighbor… Actually, it’s not that weird, she practically lived over here.

Why they were wearing more of dad’s clothes than dad was wearing, he was only wearing a apron and a pair of shorts, was a mystery for another day.

The table seemed to notice him and gave him a series of hellos and good morning, he greeted them back, and got back to eating before they started asking about his grades and stuff. His social-studies weren’t great. He’d have to call Aunt Weiss or Blake for some help, Aunt Weiss would understand, plus she loved to spoil him. He knew Aunt Blake loved him, but deep down he was sure that she held a grudge for he bit her ears as a baby.

The sliding of plates across the table got everyone’s attention, a personalized plate for each seat at the table, along with bowls full of rolls, scones, and biscuits, baskets of bacon, sausage, and ham, and various pastries on plates.

Jaune put down Robyn into a chair, appreciating how his shirt looked on her, and took in the rest of the table with a pleased expression, really liking how his girls were looking wearing his clothes.

With a clap, he got everyone’s attention. “First, off enjoy. Second off, don’t show weakness Heracles will steal your food. Third, if it goes into the air or floor, it’s Heracles. Fourth, if you have leftovers, put them in Heracles doggy dish, he will love you forever. We, good? Alright, everybody dig in!”

A wave of giggles took over the table, before the sound of forks and spoons clinking over took the giggles.

Robyn looked at her plate hungrily, it full of roasted, seasoned tomatoes, a personal favorite of hers, large slices of ham and turkey, eggs sunnyside up, several slices of toast coated in butter and jam, a couple slices of bacon, mushrooms, baked apple slices, and to top it off a large glass of ice coffee.

Robyn gave Jaune a saucy glance, “I’d kiss you, if you hadn’t bruised my lips last night, by the way, are you trying to make me fall for you? It’s working~.” Robyn said before digging in.

Jaune gave a playful roll of the eyes. “I don’t need to try for something I already have.”

Next to Robyn, May sat in Jaune’s white undershirt, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders to cover what the shirt barely covered with how loose it was on her. She groaned at her leader, but quickly resumed eating her breakfast of an omelette stacked full of ham, sausage, cheese, diced onions, and bacon on a bed of cooked hash browns, with a stack of pancakes on the side, with a ice vanilla latte on the side.

In-between Fiona and May, sat snuggly Joanna the only one besides Elm who could wear Jaune’s clothing without looking entirely ridiculous, but even then the flannel shirt was a size or two too big and she had to wear an undershirt underneath. She looked slightly amused at May’s annoyance and her leaders bad flirtation.

Her breakfast could be described as meat, all the meat and eggs she could have. Bacon? Check. Eggs? Scrambled, sunnyside up, omelet, and poached on toast. Ham? Yes. Turkey? An entire leg. Sausage? Links, patties, and summer sausage. Chicken? She had them on biscuits. Steak? With the eggs of course. Finally she had some Lox and other seafood, with a side of biscuits, various cheeses, jams, and a large strawberry protein shake and glass of water.

Fiona sitting next to Achilles wore little more than Jaune’s white long sleeve sweatshirt, not that she needed anymore as she wore it more like a dress from how big it was. She had given up on getting all of Achilles knots out of his hair, she had talked with Saphron and Terra before on how hard it was to get him to take care of his hair, she dreaded when Yang found out he started growing his hair out like her, but refused to take care of it properly. Anyway she was trying to get her lover’s son to open up to her a bit more.

Achilles was too consumed by eating to notice. Fiona let out a sigh and went to work on eat breakfast, Jaune was good to her, too good in fact and sometimes loaded up her plate more than she could eat, but she supposed growing up around seven sisters and then hanging out with huntress gave him a skewed view on how much she wanted to eat.

The plate was full of cooked mushrooms, baked tomatoes, a omelett full of leafy greens, onions, and vegetables, biscuits, muffins, pancakes, a yogurt parfait mixed with banana, nuts and strawberries, some scrambled eggs, sausage patties, and finally a large breakfast tea to finish it off. She had her work cut out for herself, but Jaune’s food was bar none the best in Argus.

Achilles was half way through his plate.

Winter scrolled across her Scroll, making sure her schedule was clear today… for reasons. She smiled when she saw that the day was clear along with tomorrow and most of the week, she pulled her, formerly Jaune’s pajama’s tight, and looked with a smile at her plate. She would never regret loaning Klein to Jaune so the man could learn the butler’s ways.

On her plate was a large waffle cover in chocolate custard with strawberries forming a heart in the center, her cheeks blushing slightly, Jaune always insisted she get all the love she was denied as a child. Also on the plate was sausage links, orange slices, blueberry muffins, some donuts, sliced ham, crackers, cheese, and some turkey. To drink was a simple black coffee.

To Winter’s immediate right was Harriet digging into her food, dressed only in a large red sweatshirt to cover herself. Her breakfast consists of toast, cheesy scrambled eggs, apple cinnamon oatmeal, berry smoothie, a couple bagels with cottage cheese, and some ham. A glass of water to the side. She was really hungry after all the, exercise she got last night. So conscious thoughts were a bit away.

Elm was the only one who was actually close to Jaune in size, but since he hit his second growth spurt he was almost a head taller than her, with even broader shoulders! That said while his clothes hung loosely on her, it wasn’t nearly as bad as say on Fiona. Elm wore a simple robe and undershirt with boxers on underneath. She wasn’t much of a morning person, but she managed through simple questions when asked.

Her breakfast was similar to Joanna’s, only even larger. With an omelet loaded to bursting with steak, and an ever larger caffeine chocolate protein shake, an entire plate with hashbrowns full of meat and cheese and the occasional onion.

Next to Elm was the last lady of the table, Thetis Nikos, mother to late Pyrrha Nikos. She wore Jaune’s robe and a black t-shirt. Her breakfast was a parfait loaded with fruit and nuts, a stack of pancakes, bacon and scrambled eggs, a muffin and a cup of coffee.

Finally Jaune had his own plate… Platter, he had a platter, full of every meat he had all sizzling, crispy and delicious, all the eggs, all of them! A waffles, pancakes, oatmeal, muffins, protein shakes and smoothies, sausage and toast, his plate full was nearing total collapses.

Breakfast went on for a while, everyone scraffing down as much as them could, Joanna, Elm, Jaune, Achilles, and Thetis going for second, eventually it was all gone with what little scraps being given to Heracles.

“You spoil us, you know?” Elm called out to Jaune, holding her full belly.

“Yeah, you don’t have to cook for us everytime we swing by. I'm down for going out for breakfast, I just don’t understand how you have the energy, when,” She wiggles her eyebrows at Jaune. “You do the most exercise around here.”

A series of groans emerged around the table. Achilles could only nod, his dad did work out a lot.

Winter coughed at that, and then spoke. “I concur with that statement, I feel the time could be used more, pleasantly.” A blush rose on her face. “If I ordered catering, you wouldn’t have to rise two hours early to make breakfast for everyone.” She then said under her breath. “And then you wouldn’t have to leave the bed so early.”

May smirked at her from across the table. “You just don’t wanna lose your big spoon? Do you princess bed hog?’ Her smirk growing deeper at Winter’s atomic blush.

“Alright, alright, I get it, but I like cooking for everybody,” Jaune said a pearly smile, making the women at the table go weak in the knees. “Anyway, I have get up early anyway, to improve myself, and keep my body top of the line.” The weakness came back in full force for the women, remembering the taste they got last night of how top of the line his body was.

“Now, who’s up for a 100k run!” Jaune asks.

Only for all of them to groan, as they felt the soreness across their bodies from last night.

“Fine, I guess you girls got plenty of exercise last night.” Jaune said with a smirk.

Achilles didn’t get why the women around his dad were so weird, but it didn’t matter to him that much, they were in a way family to him, sure they weren’t always around, but when they were he enjoyed it, and all of them united in their shared fear of his father’s insane physical routine.

#Jaune is a himbo #Himbo dad #Achilles Arc

33 notes · View notes

maybeimamuppet · 3 years

Text

the best medicine

Cady is very worried. It’s almost noon and Janis still hasn’t answered her good morning message. She’s trying to calm herself; Janis is renowned for being a late sleeper, especially on weekends. But she wasn’t in school yesterday, and they haven’t spoken or even texted since Thursday night. Something must be wrong.

She decides to start doing some math homework to distract herself from her anxiety, pulling out her textbook and grabbing a pencil from the cup on her desk. She’s working on her fifth problem when her phone finally pings.

Jellybean: good morning butterfly

Jellybean: sorry it took me so long to answer i’ve been asleep all day

Caddy Cakes: It’s fine, darling. Are you okay??

Jellybean: i’m not great

Caddy Cakes: What’s wrong?? :(((

Jellybean: i’m sick. that’s why i didn’t come in yesterday 📷

Jellybean: doc says it’s strep. had to get swabbed

Caddy Cakes: Oh no, poor Jellybean 📷

Caddy Cakes: How long have you been taking antibiotics?

Jellybean: uh since yesterday morning i think ?? why ?

Caddy Cakes: If you’ve been taking them for more than 24 hours you’re not contagious anymore. Do you want me to come take care of you?

Jellybean: u don’t have to do that babes. i’m all gross rn

Caddy Cakes: I don’t care, lovey. I picked up lion crap as my daily chore for eight years, I can handle a sick girlfriend. I wanna take care of you 🥺

Jellybean: if u really want to, cads. my mom and jules are out of town, there’s a key under the ceramic frog in the garden

Caddy Cakes: I’ll be there in fifteen 📷️mwah! 📷

Cady puts down her pencil and closes her book, heading downstairs and grabbing everything she might need to help her sick girl. Two different painkillers, the recipe for the super-awesome-cure-all-wonder soup her family always makes whenever illness hits, some medicinal African herbs to make tea with, and some soothing lozenges for sore throats. That should be everything.

Once she grabs her phone, jacket, and charger, she takes her bike from the garage, since her parents took the car to some convention thing. She texts them to let them know where she’s going and heads out.

————-

She’s so distracted worrying about Janis she doesn’t even notice where she is until she arrives at Janis’ place, hiding her bike around the side of the house and taking the key from the frog.

She heads up to Janis’ bedroom, finding her in the dark, huddled under several blankets, and with Pancakes resting protectively at the foot of her bed. Janis looks half-dead, her skin is pale and flushed pink with the fever, and her eyes are glassy and fogged over. She’s clammy and burning hot to the touch, and clearly in a great deal of pain.

“Oh, mpenzi,” Cady breathes. “My poor love. How long have you been feeling so bad?”

“It hit me on Thursday when I went to bed. I woke up yesterday and my throat felt like it had shards of glass in it,” Janis croaks out a whisper.

“You poor thing,” Cady strokes a hand through her sweaty hair, Janis leaning into her cool touch. “Have you taken your antibiotics yet today?”

Janis shakes her head. “Haven’t had enough energy to get water,” she explains.

“Shh, Jellybean, don’t try to talk, you’ll just hurt yourself more. I’m guessing you haven’t had breakfast either?” Janis shakes her head again, wincing at the mere idea of swallowing anything. “I know, darling, but you still need to eat. I’ll make something that won’t hurt too bad, okay? I’ll be right back.” She tucks Janis in a little tighter and heads down to the kitchen.

The Sarkisians don’t have a lot in their fridge, but enough that Cady can scrape up a decent breakfast. She makes some quick scrambled eggs and grabs a banana, those are both healthy and easy to swallow. Pancakes hasn’t been fed either, so she fills his bowl with some food for him to find before she fills a cup with cold water and heads back up to her love.

Janis is now lying on top of all of her covers, the fever changing her temperature every minute. “Here, mpendwa. The other pills are just ibuprofen, it’ll bring your fever down and help with the pain,” Cady says as she pours out one of Janis’ antibiotic pills and some painkillers.

Janis swallows everything obediently, grimacing at the sensation in her throat when they go down. “My poor sickie,” Cady says sadly, handing Janis the plate of breakfast. She must be totally miserable, she would usually protest absolutely everything happening. Janis hates feeling useless. “Can I draw you a bath, Jellybean? It might help your temperature. It’d make you feel less gross, too.”

Janis nods happily, excited at the idea of a comforting soak. She takes a small bite of her eggs, wincing again as she swallows. Cady kisses her burning forehead gently and heads to the bathroom, spying a bottle of lavender bubble bath. She turns the tap, filling the tub with lukewarm water. If it’s too hot, Janis’ temperature will go too high, but if it’s too cold it will just be uncomfortable for her. She uses entirely too much bubble soap, causing a large wall of foam to rise above the water level. Oh well, Janis loves lavender anyway.

Janis is just finishing her meal as Cady heads back to her bedroom, nibbling slowly at her banana. “It’s ready whenever you are, Jay. Do you want me to stay with you or wait in here?” Janis points to herself. “Okay. Has the medicine started working yet?”

Janis nods, standing slowly and throwing her banana peel away. She tries to walk over to where Cady is waiting by the door, but her knees buckle just before she can make it. Cady lunges to catch her before she hits the ground, pulling her back upright again. “Hate this,” Janis grumbles weakly.

“I know, my love. You’ll feel better once those antibiotics actually start working, I promise. Um, I put in a little too much soap,” Cady mutters once she’s managed to half-drag Janis to the bathroom. Janis chuckles weakly at the tower of bubbles, slowly stripping off her clothes and stepping in.

Cady scoops some of the foam and rests it on top of Janis’ head, giving her a bubble hat. “You’re so cute,” she teases. Janis just huffs, pouting and crossing her arms under the water. “Yes, I know, you’re my tough punk protector. But you’re also adorable.”

Janis shoots her a look that says “I can live with that, but I’m not happy about it.”

“Let me go grab you a towel and some clothes to change into and then I’ll wash your hair, I know you love that. Try not to drown,” Cady jokes, heading back towards Janis’ room. She folds back the blankets to allow the sheets to air before she grabs some comfy shorts and fuzzy socks, a thin tank top, and a hoodie to go over it from her dresser.

She bursts out laughing when she comes back, finding her girlfriend with the bubbles still on top of her head sunk down into the tub so that only her eyes and nose peek out from the mound of foam. “Alright, sit up for me, lovely.”

Janis emerges from the bubbles slowly, as Cady lathers her hands up with Janis’ signature apple shampoo. Once she starts massaging it into Janis’ dark roots, her eyes flutter shut and she gives a contented purr. “You’re just like Pancakes. You both love having your heads scratched.”

“He doesn’t like baths,” Janis says quietly. “And he’s a little bitch.”

“Janis! He’s your son, don’t be mean. He was guarding you when I got here,” Cady chides jokingly.

“He bit my toes! I was napping!” Janis insists hoarsely.

“Okay, that was mean of him. Look up and close your eyes,” Cady says, tipping her chin up and scooping water to rinse the soap out of her hair. Janis gives a pleased shudder at the warmth cascading over her head.

She goes for the conditioner next, squeezing out a little more than she needs and warming it in her hands before stroking it through the blonde ends of her girlfriend’s hair. She works it up from the bottom slowly, the excess giving her a reason to massage Janis’ scalp again. Anything to make her feel a little better.

Once that’s done, Janis lowers herself back into the cooling water, exhausted just from holding herself upright for so long. Cady gives her a moment to rest, telling her some stories of things she missed during school the day before.

“Did you know the way the football team hazes new people is with a taser?” Cady asks, prompting Janis to pop an eye open curiously. “One of the guys who sits next to me in sociology was talking about it. One of the other seniors has one and they tase all the freshmen on the ass when they first join the team.”

They both start giggling at that, Janis in particular getting a vindictive joy imagining the same jocks who used to shove her in lockers getting their asses shocked.

“And obviously your natural instinct is to move away from it, and he said the guy with the taser just kind of follows them with it,” Cady says, making them both laugh harder. “Like, they keep leaning or running away and he just goes with them.”

“That’s great,” Janis whispers. She pauses and then says, “I’m cold.”

“Do you want me to come in with you?” Cady asks. “Or do you want to get out?”

Janis nodded at the first bit and points to her once she finishes speaking. All she really wants is to be held. Cady goes quickly to fetch another towel for herself, coming back and taking her clothes off. She ties her hair up so it won’t get wet and slides into the tub behind her.

“Ooh, it is cold in here now,” Cady says quickly, adding just a touch more hot water to boost the temperature back up. Janis leans back against her and turns her head to tuck her face into her neck, inhaling her comforting scent of rosewater perfume. “Is this better?”

Janis just nods, trying to relax and ignore the burning in her throat. “Another story?” she whispers quietly, glad she’s so close to her girlfriend’s ear and doesn’t have to strain her voice.

“Sure, Jellybean. Let me think... did I ever tell you about the time a lion broke into my tent?” Cady asks, running her fingers through Janis’ wet hair and gently separating a few tangles. Janis shakes her head. “I was nine, I think. Some new cubs had just been born on the reserve and I got to help with the newborns every now and again. One got really attached to me, followed me everywhere like a little puppy. She was kind of the closest I could get to a pet.”

Janis looks very interested in the story. She always does, she loves Cady’s Kenya tales.

“Anyway, one night I was asleep and I remember being a lot warmer than usual, like I had an extra blanket or something, and I couldn’t move as much in my cot. I woke up in the morning cuddling this baby lion. She’d managed to hook the zipper on one of her teeth to get the flap open and just plopped herself right in my arms. I was lucky her mom didn’t eat me. They’re very protective, but she was just laying outside waiting for the cub,” Cady giggles at the memory.

“That’s cute. What was her name?” Janis whispers.

“Louise. My dad named them. They were supposed to be named Lewis and Clark because they were the first ones that would be living in a new area of the reserve, like the first explorers. But they turned out to both be female, so we called them Louise and Clarke instead,” Cady says. “I miss them. I think those two were my favorite.”

“You’ll have to introduce me someday,” Janis mumbles sleepily. “Can we get out now please? I’m cold again.”

“Okay, Jay. Here,” Cady hands her the cushy towel and pulls the drain in the tub, helping her to stand. “Your clothes are here.”

She dries herself off quickly and tugs her old clothes back on, Janis trudging through her aches and fatigue to dry herself and pull on her clean clothes. Once she manages, Cady leads them back to the bedroom, preemptively taking a hold of her girlfriend so she doesn’t fall over again.

“Do you want lunch, Jayjay?” Cady asks, wrapping a towel around Janis’ head so her hair doesn’t get her clothes wet. Janis shakes her head, popping one of the lozenges Cady brought into her mouth before flopping back down on her bed. “Nothing? You have mac and cheese.”

Janis pokes her head up at that, apparently having reconsidered. She hadn’t eaten at all yesterday, so she’s actually quite hungry, despite the pain in her throat. “Okay, take your temperature while I’m gone. I’ll be back in a minute.”

————

Pancakes follows her back to the kitchen, and Cady gives him one of his ‘diet’ treats and some pets for helping to take care of Janis. “Good boy. But stop biting Janis’ toes, you little perv. She’s sick.”

She decides to make the tea with the herbs she brought to go with their lunch. Janis isn’t a big fan of tea unless it’s super fruity, so she adds a lot of milk and sugar to the mug to cover some of the earthy flavor. She also adds honey, having to psych herself into grabbing the bottle and squeezing the sticky stuff into the mug, grimacing at the goo on the bottle and washing her hands quickly afterwards.

Janis was apparently waiting for her the whole time she was cooking, lying on her bed watching the door with her sad brown eyes. “I love you,” she croaks when Cady comes back in.

“I love you too, my bluejay. What was your temperature?” Cady hands her the warm bowl and rests the mug on her nightstand. Janis shows her the thermometer, the little screen glowing yellow and showing 99.0. “It’s gone down a little, the bath must have helped.”

Janis reaches for the mug, taking a cautious sip of the warm tea.

“Good?” Cady asks, coming to sit behind her with a hairbrush and some hair ties. Janis nods.

“You put honey in it?” She whispers, sounding a bit pained. “Good job.” Cady struggles with certain textures to the point of nearly fearing them, honey being the worst. Imagining touching honey gives her almost the same reaction as imagining watching someone break a bone.

“I did. You owe me for that,” Cady teases jokingly, gently brushing out Janis’ damp hair and twisting it back into two Dutch braids, slightly challenged by her side shave but managing regardless. “Now your hair will be all curly like mine.”

Janis touches one of the braids, playing with the elastic at the bottom. She points to her desk, where Cady sees a notebook resting. She goes to grab it and a pen; Janis’ throat must be hurting too much to speak again.

“When did you learn how to braid like this?” Janis writes.

“I did it a lot in Kenya, and Damian helped me practice and taught me new stuff. He lets me practice on a wig he has. It’s fun,” Cady explains. Janis gives a nod of understanding. Cady realizes something after a second. “Hey, do you want to learn some more sign language? Now is kind of a perfect time.”

Another nod. “Okay, write down something you need or want and I’ll show you the sign for it.”

Janis writes, “Snuggles?” and blinks at her hopefully.

“Aww. Of course, mpenzi. That looks like this, by the way,” Cady says, making a sort of peace sign with her first two fingers bent back, resting it on the back of her other hand. Janis copies the motion, raising an eyebrow curiously. “Yeah, just bend your wrist back a little more. There! Okay, you can take some more medicine and come here.”

Janis swallows a few tylenol with what’s left of her tea before letting Cady pull her in. Cady lies on her back, pulling Janis to rest on top of her with her head on her shoulder and face tucked into her neck. “Comfy?”

Janis nods. “Will you read to me?” She mumbles shyly.

“Sure, my love. Which one?”

Janis leans over to grab Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children from her nightstand before cuddling back into her. Cady kicks the blanket up over them with her feet, tugging it tightly around her girlfriend’s shoulders as she opens the book.

“I had just come to accept that my life would be ordinary when extraordinary things began to happen.” Cady reads, Janis listening intently even though she’s read it several times before.

Cady kisses her still-warm forehead gently before continuing. By the time Jacob winds up in Wales, Janis’ breathing evens out and she can hear a faint whistling sound with every breath. She dog-ears the page (knowing that Janis is very pro-dog earing) and continues reading silently to herself as she eats her own lunch; it’s an interesting story. Once the light from the setting sun just barely starts stealing in through the window, Cady decides to get started making the soup.

She very delicately shifts Janis off of her and tucks her in again, Janis grumbling crankily in her sleep for a second at the removal of cuddles. Cady leans in and pecks her nose before she goes, giggling quietly as it crinkles like a bunny’s.

She pads down to the kitchen quietly to work on the soup, tiptoeing so as not to wake Janis. The Heron’s super-awesome-cure-all-wonder soup is actually just chicken noodle soup, but a really delicious homemade variety with some extra spices. Cady is lucky Juliana likes to cook, they have everything she needs except the chicken and vegetables.

She decides to check with Damian first, he lives closer than the grocery store is and she doesn’t want to leave Janis alone for too long.

africabytoto: Hey Damian, do you happen to have any chicken and carrots and celery at your place? Janis is sick and I wanna make her some soup 📷 all she has is dino nuggets and frozen peas

sashafierce: Aww poor Jan

sashafierce: Let me check. What did she catch?

africabytoto: Strep throat. She’s miserable, I hate to see her like this 📷

sashafierce: She got strep all the time when we were kids, she hasn’t had it in a while. Poor thing :(

sashafierce: You’re in luck little slice, we do indeed have your poultry and veggies

africabytoto: Oh yay thank you!!!!!! I’ll be over soon, I just need to write her a note in case she wakes up

sashafierce: Sounds good :))))

Cady scrawls “Went to grab some ingredients for your dinner, be back soon. Text if you need anything, love C xx” on a post it note and sticks it to Janis’ bedside table, kissing her forehead gently. She feels a little cooler now, so the medicine must have finally kicked in again.

She grabs her bike from and heads over to Damian’s house, finding him waiting for her on the porch with a bag of goodies. He stands from his chair when he sees her, coming to wrap her in a hug.

“How is she?”

“She’ll be okay. She’s really weak right now and still in a lot of pain, but she should be feeling a lot better by tomorrow,” Cady answers, peeking into the bag. Ooh, ice cream.

“Poor Jan. She got strep all the time when we were little. Turns out she just had giant tonsils, she had them removed the day after her mom finally took her to a specialist in second grade. She hasn’t gotten it since, until now,” Damian explains, letting Cady go.

“I hate seeing her like this. She’s so tired and weak. But she is extra cuddly today, that’s been nice,” Cady says sadly.

“She always is when she’s sick. The only thing that makes her feel any better is being held, and then she pretends like it never happened once she’s better. She has to ‘maintain her image’.” Damian says, doing air quotes at the end.

“Sounds like her,” Cady giggles. Janis’ punk image was checked at the door when they got together, but she still clings to it desperately. “I should get back before too much longer. Thank you for this, I owe you one.”

“No you don’t, just tell her I said to get better and give her a hug for me. See you on Monday, Cads.” Damian says as he hugs her one more time and hands her the bag, heading back into his house.

————

Once Cady has pedaled back to Janis’ house, she heads up to her bedroom to check if she’s woken up yet.

Turns out she hasn’t, but she’s tossed her covers away and is spooning poor Pancakes, who looks like he’s just barely tolerating the affection. Cady goes to give him some scritches when she spots the tip of his tail flicking in annoyance, trying to coax him to stay.

She pecks Janis on the forehead again, frowning at the heat she feels. She scraps the note she wrote now that she’s returned, writing a new one explaining that she’s downstairs if Janis wakes up and needs something.

She decides to do the dishes first, scrubbing out the plates and cups as well as the pan and pot she’s used so far today. She probably should have done it earlier, but Janis needed her more.

Once that’s handled, she starts prepping the chicken and veggies, cutting the vegetables into bite-sized chunks and seasoning everything with the various spices. It’s designed to have enough flavor to taste even through a stuffy nose, so it takes a lot of seasoning.

She seasons the chicken broth as well, adding in the noodles and vegetables to boil. Pancakes comes trotting down the stairs once she puts the chicken into a pan to start cooking, licking his fur back into place after Janis’ rather aggressive cuddle session.

“Hi Pancakes, did Janis finally let you go?” Cady asks, checking the time on the microwave. “It’s your dinner time, too, let’s get you fed. Not that you need it, chunky.”

She picks up his bowl and scoops some of his food out of the can, giggling as he brushes against her legs and purrs very loudly. “I’m going as fast as I can, calm down.”

He dives in once she puts his bowl back down, munching happily on his salmon and turkey paté. Gross.

Cady cuts up the now-cooked chicken into small chunks, adding it to the pot and giving everything a stir. Pancakes hops up on the counter next to the stove once he’s finished his meal, sniffing curiously at the steam coming from the pot.

“Get down, young man. You had your dinner, this is for Janis,” Cady scolds jokingly, scooping him off the counter and back onto the ground. “I’d give you some, but the spices aren’t good for your tummy.”

She ladles the soup into two bowls once it’s finished, cleaning the dishes she used right away since Janis is still asleep. She finds a tray in one of the cabinets, grabbing it so she doesn’t have to carry everything up in her hands.

The soup is warm, so Cady gets some apple juice from the fridge so Janis can have something cold to go with it. She makes extra sure that Pancakes isn’t around her feet before picking the tray up and heading back up to her girlfriend.

Janis is still asleep, on her back now and shivering slightly. Cady frowns, resting the tray on her dresser and heading to wake her. She brushes her thumb against Janis’ cheek gently, leaning down to kiss her forehead a few times. Janis’ eyes flutter open at the attention, and she gives a pained sigh.

“Hi, lovey. How are you feeling?” Cady asks gently, handing her the thermometer to check her fever. Janis gives her the saddest look and a thumbs down, obediently sticking the thermometer under her tongue. “Worse than earlier?”

Janis nods as the thermometer beeps, pulling it out as it blinks red at her. 102 degrees. Cady frowns at it before shutting it off and putting it back on Janis’ nightstand.

“I made you soup, it’s my family’s secret recipe,” Cady says quietly, as Janis seems to be showing signs of a headache. Janis perks up slightly at the mention of soup, looking around for it. Cady goes to grab the tray, settling in next to her and taking her own bowl.

“This is good. I’ve never had homemade soup,” Janis whispers hoarsely.

“Never?”

Janis shakes her head. “I always got the canned stuff.”

“Well now you have me. I’ll make you soup whenever you need it,” Cady says, leaning over to peck Janis’ forehead. “You should take your hoodie off. You’re burning up, my love.”

“I’m freezing,” Janis responds in her notebook, having leaned over to grab it off the nightstand.

“Freezing looks like this, in sign,” Cady says, holding both hands out in front of her and curling her fingers slightly at the knuckles. “The soup will help warm you up, you’re going to cook yourself if you keep your shirt on.”

Janis pouts but pulls it off, being careful not to knock her bowl. Cady finishes hers and leaves to go get a cool cloth. It’s still too early for Janis to have another dose of medicine, so she’ll have to bring her temperature down a bit the old fashioned way.

Janis has finished her dinner by the time she comes back, sipping carefully at the juice and wincing slightly with every swallow. She perks up when she sees Cady come back, finishing off the glass and resting it back on the tray.

Janis does the sign for snuggles again, blinking sadly at her. Damian did say it’s practically all that helps.

“Let me go clean these dishes, and then I’ll come back and cuddle you, I promise. Rest this on the back of your neck,” Cady says, handing her the damp cloth. Janis takes it and stands, the soup having given her just enough strength to get herself to the bathroom.

Cady takes everything back down and rushes through scrubbing them clean, leaving them to dry in the rack instead of doing it by hand before hurrying back upstairs. Janis has returned by then, looking so small curled up under her blankets.

Cady crawls in next to her, and Janis shifts to sit on her lap and cuddle into her shoulder. Cady rubs her slightly sweaty back gently, leaning down to kiss her cheek and adjust the cloth on her neck.

They sit there for a while in peaceful silence, until Cady feels tears soak into her shirt and hears a quiet sniffle. “Oh, Jellybean, what’s wrong?” She asks sadly, holding her girl closer.

“Don’t feel good. Hurts,” Janis whines hoarsely, letting out a whimper of pain. Janis cries a fair amount, but almost never from physical pain. She must be feeling miserable.

“Oh, mpendwa, I’m sorry. I wish I could do more for you,” Cady says sadly. “My poor love.”

“Medicine?” Janis asks quietly with another whimper.

“You can’t take any more yet, it’s not safe. Just a little longer,” Cady tries to comfort gently. Janis chokes out a sob at finding out she can’t take anything more yet, and has to continue dealing with the pain on her own.

“Please?” She begs.

“I’m sorry, Jellybean. You’ll get sicker if you take more. Shh, lovey, you’ll make yourself feel worse if you cry, shh.” Cady squeezes her tighter, rubbing her back again. “Damian gave me some ice cream for you when I went to get the stuff to make your soup, would that help?”

“What kind?” Janis asks tearfully.

“That really good caramel stuff you like,” Cady answers, wiping her tears gently. “Do you want me to go get it?”

Janis thinks for a second, wanting the ice cream to help her pain but not wanting her Caddy to go. She nods after a minute, scooting off her lap with a sniffle. “Hurry back?” She whispers, blinking her watery brown eyes pitifully at Cady.

“Always, my love. I’ll be right back,” Cady insists, kissing her red cheeks gently and leaving again.

True to her word, she comes rushing back in no more than forty-five seconds later, brandishing a pint of non-dairy ice cream and a spoon. She sits down again, pulling Janis back into her lap and opening the frozen treat. Desperate to do what little she can to help her girlfriend, Cady scoops some onto the spoon and holds it in front of Janis’ lips.

A testament to her illness, Janis accepts the spoon feeding without complaint. “You’re really feeling sick, hm? You almost never let me feed you,” Cady says, getting her another bite.

Janis just nods and nuzzles into her, opening her mouth again. She’s exhausted, it’s nice not having to exert herself. They continue this for a while, until about a quarter of the pint is gone and Janis puts the lid back on it gently.

“Did the cold help at all?” Cady asks, adjusting her grip on her as she leans to put the ice cream down. Janis nods and holds up her fingers in a pinch sign, signaling that it helped a little. “Good.”

Janis shuts her eyes and tries to rest as best she can, held securely in her girlfriend’s arms. Cady starts rubbing her back again and gently humming a lullaby, something Janis doesn’t quite recognize. She just cuddles in closer, nuzzling into Cady’s neck. She can’t quite fall asleep because her throat and head hurt so badly, but she gets close and rests there quietly for a while.

Cady kisses her forehead softly after about a half hour, telling her she can have more medicine now. She heads to fill up a glass with water and put the ice cream back in the freezer, handing Janis another dose of ibuprofen and another of her antibiotic pills once she comes back. Janis takes them thankfully, immediately swallowing them all down.

“I’m amazed you can swallow those with a throat infection, they’re absolutely massive,” Cady says, shocked at the size of the antibiotics. “I never understood that. Surely they should be small and easy for people to take.”

Janis nods her agreement, huddling under her blankets in a desperate search for warmth. “Stay over?” She asks pitifully.

“If you want, my love. Let me tell my parents and borrow some pjs,” Cady says, texting her parents that Janis is still very sick and needs her to stay, before grabbing a large t-shirt and some thin lounge pants from Janis’ dresser and changing quickly. She comes back once that’s done, pulling Janis back against her chest and kissing her forehead. “Get some rest, Bluejay. You should feel better tomorrow.”

Janis falls asleep once the medicine kicks in, held safely in Cady’s arms.

————-

When Cady wakes up the next morning, Janis is already looking much better. Her temperature is almost normal and she’s gotten some color back. She’d woken up a few times in the night, needing more medicine for her pain before falling quickly back asleep, but it seems to have done its job well.

Janis’ brown doe eyes blink open after a few minutes, the fogginess cleared and the beautiful shine back. She grins upon seeing Cady looking at her, stretching and giving a yawn. “Hi.” Janis says, sounding much less hoarse and pained.

“Hi,” Cady responds, kissing her nose softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Still not totally back, but better,” Janis says softly, protecting her recently returned voice.

“Good. I missed your smile,” Cady says. “I liked the extra cuddles though. That was the only good part.”

Janis chuckles. “Thank you for taking care of me. I know I’m annoying when I’m sick. I get so clingy. Whiny.”

“Love, you were absolutely miserable yesterday, you’re allowed to be clingy and whiny. I liked taking care of you, I just didn’t like seeing you hurt so badly,” Cady chides gently.

“I love you,” Janis cuddles back into her, kissing the spot on her chest she can reach. “You’re the best medicine.”

“I love you too. I’ll always be around to take care of you.”

thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. please let me know what you thought!

first request fill is coming next week!

lots of love,

ezzy

#cadnis #space safari #paint by numbers #cady x janis #cady heron x janis sarkisian #cady heron #janis sarkisian #damian hubbard #mean girls #mean girls musical #mean girls broadway

18 notes · View notes

jasontoddiefor · 4 years

Text

universe of beaches Chp. 2

In which Anakin makes breakfast, Padmé ensure the boys are well dressed and there is a wedding. Read on AO3!

So honey take me by the hand and we can sign some papers Forget the invitations, floral arrangements and bread makers

-Alvvays, Archie Marry Me

Obi-Wan woke up to the smell of bacon and pancakes. It took him a few moments to start wondering about it. The first thing to consider was the fact that he usually didn’t eat bacon or pancakes or anything really for breakfast. Secondly, nobody should be in his house cooking him breakfast. As slowly as Sloth, the memories of last night’s adventured trickled in so that by the time Obi-wan actually crawled out of Anakin and Padmé’s bed, at least fifteen minutes had passed. He sat up and stretched, attempting to shake his exhaustion from his limbs. When he turned around, he found Padmé still asleep. He vaguely recalled her slipping out of bed as the last one to get up for the twins during the night. At the thought of the children, Obi-Wan glanced at their crib only to find it empty.

If Padmé was still asleep, and the twins awake already, it had to be Anakin cooking in the kitchen and looking after them. Carefully, so Obi-Wan wouldn’t wake her, he stood up and headed towards the living room. He found the twins already sitting in their highchairs at the dinner table and cheerfully throwing their toys around. When they spotted him, they waved excitedly and babbled at him.

“Good morning to you too,” Obi-Wan retorted and went to retrieve the plush banthas. Ever since Anakin had become obsessed with Star Wars, more and more merch from it had found itself into the twins’ belongings. It should surprise Obi-Wan that these were their favorite toys. He set them down in front of them. Luke and Leia quickly took them from him and pressed them close to their bodies. The animals were almost the same size as the twins and so it all made a rather ridiculous picture that had Obi-Wan grinning.

Moving past them, he headed towards the kitchen where Anakin was standing at the stove.

“Pancakes, eggs, and bacon?” Obi-Wan asked, leaning against the doorframe. “What a nice surprise.”

Anakin threw him a look over his shoulder and grinned. “Well, yeah, have to spoil my future husband, don’t I?”

His smile twitched slightly, uncertainty taking it over for a moment.

“Of course, darling,” Obi-Wan returned easily, skipping straight over the topic. He had already made his decision, Anakin didn’t need to worry. “Tell me, do you have tea as well?”

“Of course. We even have your favorite.”

Anakin reached for the wall cabinet with his left hand. He hadn’t put on his prosthetic yet and Obi-Wan just hoped he hadn’t turned it to pieces as stressed as he had been. Anakin tended to tinker with it a lot because he was so pissed with the cheap model he had been provided with and had built his own out of scraps. It was a good aid usually, just a little too heavy still and there were some other fine motion issues that Obi-Wan couldn’t entirely recall. He didn’t exactly have the technical knowledge to do anything more than understanding the bare basics of Anakin’s ramblings.

Anakin set a box filled with bags of tea onto the counter. “Your favorite is in the very right corner.”

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan replied and got three cups out of a drawer. He put his favorite tea into his own cup and picked something calming for Anakin and Padmé.

He then started up the kettle and went to grab plates from the cupboards to lay the table. He also got a set of plastic ones for Luke and Leia and then put all on it on a tray he was fairly sure used to belong to him at one point. He carried his assembly of cutlery into the living room and distributed everything in a safe distance from the twins, already aware of the look they shot the new prospective toys.

He then returned to the kitchen to grab some healthy things to eat besides Anakin’s bacon and pancakes and the twins' fruit puree. Padmé and Anakin’s fridge was upsettingly empty and Obi-Wan was tempted to invite them to lunch and dinner today. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the money for it. He lived alone in a house that had been in his family’s possession for generations, had a steady income, and his inheritance if things got rough.

He still didn’t know how he had ended up as his grandfather’s favored grandchild – Feemor was, after all, actually the most mild-mannered of them all – but Obi-Wan had given up arguing with Dooku Serenno. If his grandfather wanted to throw money at him, he just let him. It was easier than forcing himself to sit through a six-hour argument that only ended with him agreeing to whatever his grandfather had thought of anyway.

After a few more minutes, Anakin brought in the eggs, bacon, and pancakes and set them on the table and, as if summoned, Padmé arrived in the living room.

“Good morning,” she muttered tiredly and gave Anakin a quick peck on the lips while then absolutely smothering the twins with kisses. Luke and Leia shrieked in delight and began to laugh. The sounds were probably the sweetest thing Obi-Wan had heard in a while. He wouldn’t even mind giving the awful Introduction to Literary Studies course for the next few semesters if he could get to see the twins every morning.

“What time is it even?” Padmé asked as she slipped into one of the chairs. “I didn’t check the clock.”

“Six a.m. We agreed to meet Quinlan in two hours.”

“Oh, that’s good. Then we still have enough time to dress you both up.”

“What?” Obi-Wan stopped right in the middle of pulling a pancake onto his plate. “What do you mean dress up?”

Padmé shrugged and smiled softly.

“My third and fourth favorite person in the world are getting married, you ought to be dressed up and look nice for your wedding. Even if it’s just pretending. We can show it the twins in a couple of years and be all ‘look at the time Daddy and Uncle Obi-Wan got married’ and then we’ll have a laugh about it.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t so sure if they were really going to laugh about it in the future, looking back at the horrible circumstances that got them here, but they could try at least.

“I still have the suit from our wedding somewhere,” Anakin brought up and spoon-fed Leia some mashed stuff that Obi-Wan couldn’t identify. Could be apples, could be bananas – the glass container didn’t say. “White, red and gold. Think you can match that color scheme?”

Obi-Wan honestly had no idea. The last time he had worn a proper suit had been a while ago as he hadn’t had to go to any super fancy events lately. If Anakin was going to drag out his very fine suit though, Obi-Wan should probably do the same, if only for the photos.

“I’ll have to take a look,” he finally replied.

“Great!” Padmé clapped her hands together and, of course, the twins immediately imitated her. “So first, we’ll stop at Obi-Wan’s place, then after go to the park, get married, submit the documents and then do nothing for the remainder of the day because I think the stress will kill me otherwise.”

“Kill you?” Anakin echoed and threw up his arms in a grand gesture. “I’m the one who’s getting married!”

Obi-Wan laughed at his ridiculous actions and exaggerating dramatics. He honestly missed eating a meal with the Skywalker-Naberrie household. The mornings here were never as boring as they were in his own home where it was just him on his own, pretending he was actually bothering to eat a healthy breakfast and wasn’t just grabbing a cup of coffee on the way to university.

That reminded him.

“Don’t you have classes today?” he asked Anakin. He was fairly sure that Wednesday mornings were one of the busier ones for Anakin.

“Already emailed my professor,” Anakin retorted. “Said it was a family emergency, he was very understanding.”

Of course, he was. Anakin’s teachers either loved or hated him – always had. Now that Anakin didn’t have to bother with any ‘useless subjects’ anymore but could pretty much do what he wanted, most of his teachers actually enjoyed having the genius in their class, if only for the bragging rights. Obi-Wan was sure that if not for the twins, Anakin could have been made a TA already.

“That’s good.”

They finished breakfast quickly and then got dressed right after one another. Obi-Wan picked his old clothes up from where he had left them last night and then grabbed some of the clothes he had left at their place when he’d still stayed there for more than just one night and put them on. When he was finished and left the bathroom, Luke and Leia were at least half dressed already, wearing green romper suits. They were then passed off to him with well-practiced ease as their parents got ready in turn.

Obi-Wan waited for Anakin and Padmé with the twins sitting in front of him on the ground. He had been there the first time they had sat up, just a couple of days ago. By now they seemed to have a better hang on it and were happy as ever.

Anakin emerged first from the bathroom, dressed rather casually compared to his wife who had taken the time to put on make-up and fetch one of her fancier dark dresses. After yet another few minutes searching for keys and purses and shoes, the three adults and the children were all washed, dressed, and ready to go.

“My car or yours?” Obi-Wan asked, unnecessarily as Padmé already took the twins’ car seats out of their car.

“Hey!” Anakin protested, but helped settle the children into Obi-Wan’s car anyway. “My car can drive us there just fine and safely.”

Anakin’s car, lovingly called twilight for all the times it had broken down, leaving them stranded in the twilight zone, was a safe car. Obi-Wan didn’t doubt Anakin’s mechanical skills. He just also knew that it wasn’t exactly up to street regulations anymore due to its street racing aimed modifications. If they were stopped by the police, they’d be in for a nice chat.

“You can drive it just fine, I’m not driving that,” Padmé jabbed.

The drive to Obi-Wan’s house was quick and filled with conversation, mostly pointing out random objects to the twins and saying what they were called or what their color was. The twins listened eagerly and contributed to the conversation as best they could.

Once they arrived at Obi-Wan’s house, Padmé and Anakin each took one of their children to carry them inside.

“I’ll just grab a suit then,” Obi-Wan said, already halfway up the stairs. “It shouldn’t take too long.”

Padmé and Anakin exchanged a look that honestly didn’t look all too promising and almost just a little threatening.

“Or you can come with me and help me pick one out?” Obi-Wan amended and was instantly rewarded by two happy smiles.

Obi-Wan’s bedroom was nothing special, ignoring that it was larger than Padmé and Anakin’s and also had a playpen since he had watched over the twins one time and he had just bought one on the way home so he didn’t have to return to Padmé and Anakin’s to pick theirs up. It had seemed like a good future investment at the time and proved to still be one when they sat the twins inside and they stayed peaceful.

“Alright.” Anakin flopped down on Obi-Wan’s bed, making himself at home. “What have you got?”

“Anything that matches this?” Padmé inquired and pulled Anakin’s wedding suit from a bag. It was still in pristine condition. The suit itself was white, but the hems of the arms and pants, as well as the pockets, had been embroidered by fie red and gold thread, Tatooine and Naboo tradition mixed apparently. Anakin had gushed about it for hours when he had told Obi-Wan about it and Obi-Wan probably knew more about it than any other living person on this earth. The only one he had talked about it to more would be Padmé, though Obi-Wan also felt like he was the person who knew the most about Padmé’s wedding dress and lace-making traditions.

“I should have something,” Obi-Wan said, eyeing the red color of the suit.

He disappeared into his walk-in closet, an unnecessary thing that was only half full at most really and began searching through his suits. He had plenty enough, black, grey, blue – standard colors. He just wasn’t sure if any of those were quite up to wedding level standards.

The thought of marriage made him stop, just for a moment. Of course, there was nothing exactly special about marrying Anakin. This was just a beneficial business arrangement and was meant to keep his best friend safe until they had figured the rest out. Obi-Wan hadn’t thought of himself as somebody who would get married, at least not anymore. There had been a time where he could have imagined it, with the right person, but that was years ago and by now he was content just spending time with his friends and their adorable children.

Obi-Wan ran his fingers over his selection of suits and hesitated over a dark blue one. He had bought it a while ago for a formal award ceremony that had never taken place because of some copyright scandal. He had kept the suit but never actually worn it, thinking he would someday. The suits buttons were golden and would match nicely with Anakin’s. Obi-Wan picked out a white undershirt and a dark tie.

“Have you found anything?” Padmé asked.

“Yes! Give a minute to put it on,” Obi-Wan replied.

Anakin and Padmé cheered with enthusiasm. Obi-Wan sighed with a silly smile and, for the second time within 24 hours, undressed for Anakin and Padmé. Despite it having been a while, the suit still fit snugly and well and when he looked at himself in the mirror, he thought he looked quite good. He threw his old clothes into the laundry basket and stepped outside.

“And?” he asked and did a little spin. “Does it fit?”

Padmé and Anakin studied him intensely, then nodded. “Yeah, this- uh, you look great,” Anakin said, stumbling over his own words.

“Have I rendered you speechless, dear one?” Obi-Wan asked, teased.

Anakin spluttered, earning himself a laugh from his wife.

“Absolutely stunning, Obi-Wan,” Padmé told him.

She stood up and circled around Obi-Wan, reminding him just a bit of a predator eyeing their target. If he remembered correctly one of her childhood friends – Eirtaé? Or was it Rabé? – was a designer and had frequently requested Padmé’s help on her amateur fashion shows.

“This will do just fine,” Padmé decided. “Alright, Anakin, your turn.”

“Wait what?”

“You need to get dressed as well, don’t you?” Obi-Wan said. “C’mon, big day.”

Padmé put the suit in Anakin’s hand so that he could change. Anakin returned after a few minutes, dressed in his white suit, his right sleeve hanging loose. He looked good as he had the day of his wedding, though his hair was a little longer now, which was a lot better than the god-awful haircut he had sported at nineteen.

“And? What do you say?” Anakin turned to the children. “Does daddy look good?”

The twins, distracted with their toys, didn’t even react, leaving Anakin hanging.

“You do look good,” Padmé said and helped him roll up his right sleeve.

“We’re all finished then, aren’t we?” Obi-Wan asked. “I’m dressed, so are you, the twins are wearing their nicest clothes, Padmé is outshining all of us. All that’s left to do is see if Quinlan is up yet and hasn’t forgotten about it.”

He probably should have called him first thing in the morning, but Quinlan likely wouldn’t even have answered that early.

Anakin rocked forward and backward on his heels. “Yeah, that seems to be about it.”

“I’ll call him then.” Obi-Wan searched for his phone, found it in his pocket after an embarrassingly long time and then quickly dialed Quinlan. As he was the last person Obi-Wan had called, he should be the last number on his list. Instead, Obi-Wan was surprised to see that his father had called him while he had been asleep. Typically Qui-Gon, the man never did call to reasonable hours too stuck on whatever time zone he was in and not knowing about anybody else’s. Obi-Wan wasn’t too keen on calling him back. If it was something important, he would know it. His father could try again, Obi-Wan was sick of trying.

Quinlan picked up after the second ring, much faster than Obi-Wan had expected.

“Obi-Wan,” Quinlan greeted. “Good morning, my man. You ready for the big day?”

So Quinlan hadn’t forgotten it, that was good at least. Obi-Wan would hate to go through the whole spiel again. “Yeah, we’re ready. Is there anything you need to get done?”

“Nope,” cam ethe reply. “I’ve taken care of everything. Driving to the park right now. When will you be there?”

Obi-Wan exchanged looks with Padmé and Anakin.

“Twenty?” Padmé suggested. Anakin nodded.

“Twenty,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Sweet.” Quinlan then quickly rattled off how to get to the gazebo he was so in love with and then finished the call.

And that was it. Obi-Wan pocketed his phone and the trio plus children left his bedroom and finally his house. They went back to Obi-Wan’s car and drove to the park. As it was fairly early still, and a weekday, not many people were out. Obi-Wan parked the car, they took the stroller out of the trunk and settled the children in it. Recalling Quinlan’s instructions, they walked through the park. The only people that they met were fellow parents with small children and here and there what looked like a group of college students cramming.

Obi-Wan needed to get to work as well, he had been supposed to finish grading his papers by the end of the week. Oh well, his students would just have to live with him taking a little longer. He’d just let them off without homework.

Obi-Wan didn’t expect to find Quinlan in the distance, but his friend was for once dressed nicely and not just in his dark jeans, hoodie, and leather jacket. Quinlan spotted them soon after and waved at them, a motion the twins were happy to return. If Quinlan was confused by their presence, he didn’t show it.

“Obi-Wan!” He greeted and pulled Obi-Wan into a hug. “How are you doing, my friend?”

“Well, thank you,” Obi-Wan retorted. “And thank you for helping us out.”

Quinlan grinned and slapped Obi-Wan on the back.

“No problem, I’m honestly happy I get to do this for you. So, what’s the arrangement? Just you and Anakin?”

Obi-Wan blanked. He had actually no idea what Quinlan thought they were getting into. Last night it had just sounded like he was assuming that Obi-Wan was already dating Anakin, which couldn’t be further from the truth, but on the other hand… If the government had already gone such lengths to revoke Anakin’s citizen status, it was probably best this appeared as honest as possible.

“I’m marrying Anakin, yes,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Okay, okay, and dear Padmé? I got some extra paper if you want to involve her in any way too. Asajj reminded me about it.”

Obi-Wan suppressed a wince. If Asajj already knew about this, it was only going to get worse and the rumors were bound to start spreading any second. He just hoped she’d keep her mouth shut in front of his grandfather. Obi-Wan did not need Dooku breathing down his neck about this.

“No involvement from my side no,” Padmé said. “I am not brave enough to try to.”

She grinned and winked at Anakin as Quinlan laughed. “Wise choice, my lady. Those two have been making moon eyes at each other since, urgh, what? Way too long for sure.”

“Thank you for your input, Quinlan,” Obi-Wan said, rolling his eyes. “Can we get back to the topic at hand though?”

“Yes, of course.” Quinlan cleared his throat. “Have you two prepared anything or…?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. Honestly, when were they supposed to have prepared anything? “No, we haven’t, just take our signatures and-“

“Actually,” Anakin said with a shit-eating grin. “I have thought of a lovely vow I’d like to speak.”

“Now look at that, that’s how you do it, Kenobi,” Quinlan said. “Well then, Skywalker. Let’s hear it.”

“Right,” Anakin muttered, then took a deep breath. “Right, okay. Obi-Wan Kenobi, ever since I’ve first met you, you have been one of the most important people in my life. You were there for me when I had my best and my worst days. You’ve always supported me unconditionally and I don’t know where I would be without you. I love you more than words could possibly ever describe and so I just want to tell you that I hope I’ll have you by my side for the rest of my life.”

Obi-Wan’s throat closed up. With every word that fell from Anakin’s lips, he was thrown into another memory, another thought of all the times they had had each other’s backs.

“Dear one-“

Anakin held up his hand. “Not finished yet. I promise you that I will cherish you forever as every flower worships the sun. You are as precious to me as the very air I breathe and there is no other I’d trust more with my family.”

Now Anakin did smile a little embarrassedly. “And I’m eternally thankful for you. You, uh, don’t have to say anything back-“

“No,” Obi-Wan said, his heart overtaken with fondness for his best friend. “No, no, I want to. Just, give me a second.”

Obi-Wan thought back to everything he had already lived through with Anakin.

He loved him.

He really did love Anakin, his best friend was one of the few constants in his life that Obi-Wan could always count on. The more he thought about what he could say, the more easily did he figure out what he simply should tell Anakin.

“Anakin, dear one, I love you too. More so than I thought I could when I first met the scrappy nine-year-old blond kid who decided he’s going to talk to me about ships and cars in a language I couldn’t even speak. You mean the world to me and I will continually try to live up to the expectations you have of me. I will not betray the trust you have put into me and I vow to love you the same way you love me.”

A heavy silence followed his statement.

It was finally interrupted by Quinlan’s low whistle. “Always knew you were a romantic at heart. Well then, Anakin Skywalker-Naberrie, do you take Obi-Wan Kenobi as your lawfully wedded husband?”

Anakin looked into Obi-Wan’s eyes, serious all of sudden. “Yes.”

“Do you promise to always stay by his side?”

Anakin shot Quinlan a look. “Didn’t you just hear what I said?”

Quinlan only smiled and raised his hands in defense. “Alright, true enough. I think for the two of you, I can skip the questions. Well, then. Obi-Wan Kenobi, do you take Anakin Skywalker-Naberrie as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.” The words weighed heavier on his tongue than Obi-Wan had expected them to. He had never been someone to make promises haphazardly, or to break them easily. He had meant every word he had told Anakin and he would do his best to honor them.

“Then – skipping the questions you all have very sappy answers to – I hereby pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss.”

Quinlan’s words shook Obi-Wan out of his thoughts like ice water, reminding him of the greater context of this ceremony.

“We don’t-“ Obi-Wan started, but was interrupted by Anakin.

“Can’t be worse than senior year,” Anakin stated and then, with a speed Obi-Wan hadn't expected, leaned forward and captured Obi-Wan’s lips in a soft kiss. The world seemed to go quiet, all background noise fading out as he put his hands around Obi-Wan’s cheeks, the warmth welcoming, and deepened the kiss once more, stealing Obi-Wan’s breath away.

By the time they separated, Obi-Wan’s head felt a little woozy and he thought his lips had to be kiss-swollen as much as they were still chasing the aftertaste of Anakin.

“And how was that?” Anakin asked, his voice rather quiet and face flushed.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak, but no word would come out. All the many poems he had read, all the imagery he had destroyed and torn to shreds to built them up more beautiful and yet none of them seemed to be appropriate.

“It looked fun for sure,” Padmé spoke up and promptly kissed her husband as well, half laughing into their kiss of relief.

Right. Obi-Wan used their latch in attention to pull himself together and focus.

“Now you two just have to sign this,” Quinlan said and put the papers on the table. “Padmé can act as your witness as the twins are a little too young still.”

Obi-Wan looked down on the paperwork, which signified so much more than just a change of a relationship. Thinking more closely about this, Obi-Wan would have to change his tax forms for the year and they probably should also look into what the situation with the twins was like, but all of that could be deal with later. As long as they had this in hand, Anakin would be alright.

“Thank you, Quinlan, really,” Obi-Wan told Quinlan.

“No problem,” Quinlan replied and handed him a pencil. “Now make it official.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi accepted the pencil and signed right on one line, making his part of the contract official. He then passed the pencil to Anakin who put his messy signature right next to Obi-Wan’s. They stared at the paper for a few seconds, just letting it all sink in. They had done it, and that in such a short time too. It was only twenty past eight and it already felt as if the entire day had passed. Obi-Wan was glad he had the day off, he didn’t particularly feel like doing anything complicated at all today.

Glancing at Anakin, Obi-Wan could tell he was a little out of it as well. The realization that his life wasn’t about to get incredibly messed up within a week probably still had to settle in.

“So that was it?” Padmé asked. “They’re officially married?”

“As legal as can be,” Quinlan reassured her. “I’ll bring the paper to the office and you should get a notice within a few days. If you haven’t gotten it by next Monday, I’ll look into it.”

“Thank you, Vos,” Padmé spoke up again. “Is there anything we can do for you in return?”

Quinlan shook his head dismissively. “Nah, don’t worry about it. It was my pleasure, really. Now go and enjoy your honeymoon.”

Honeymoon, Obi-Wan snorted. The best they were going to get right now was a second breakfast.

“Off to Dex’s?” He suggested. “I could use something horribly sweet just about right now.”

And perhaps also something alcoholic.

#Anakin Skywalker #obi wan kenobi #padmé amidala #obianidala #star wars #fanfic

32 notes · View notes

sabraeal · 4 years

Text

In Plain Sight, Chapter 4

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Written for @k-itsmaywriting‘s birthday! I hope that, despite how weird the world is right now, you have an amazing day!

Shirayuki understands how this is supposed to work. She’s seem movies after all-- Witness, of course; Sister Act 1 & 2, if only because Opa thought Whoopie Goldberg was a national treasure and Oma thought she was too young to be watching Ghost; and Our Lips Are Sealed about eight times on video cassette, since she’s old enough (and Opa resisted DVD long enough) have both VCRs and wholesome Olsen twins content as a part of her childhood.

(Her favorite formative twins were Annie and Hallie from The Parent Trap; they were red-headed, just like her, and one of them had a British accent. She’d been devastated to find out that not only were both of them American, but they were also only one girl. She’d watched Double Trouble to console herself)

In any case, she knows how this goes, at least narratively. She lays down in this amazingly comfortable bed, stares up at the ceiling in a tense yet melancholy fashion for hours, and dreams in plot-relevant flashbacks. Extra points if they reference the crime she witnessed.

The problem is: she didn’t. She’s just the unfortunate collateral to her father’s personal redemption. All the life ruining without ever being part of the A plot.

There’s an upside though: the second she hits that firm cloud of a mattress, she’s out like a light.

Absolutely nothing wakes her, but Shirayuki jolts into consciousness anyway, as unpleasant as any false start. She expects to be confused; she’s not a graceful riser to begin with, and every morning in temporary housing, she’d bounce off three walls at minimum trying to find a bathroom that didn’t exist.

(Well, the bathroom did exist, it just didn’t exist where it should, which was down the hall to the right, and was compounded by the door being in exactly the wrong place too.)

Instead, she knows exactly where she is. Knowledge which is quickly followed by the low-key, seething resentment for the man who put her here.

She groans, lifting her head from the pillow. It’s fine. She’s fine. It’s just--

7:00, her alarm clock says. Tuesday, her brain provides after a long moment.

She should be getting up, habit told her. Getting her morning fix of avocado toast and orange juice with Paul Newman’s face stamped on it.

There’s worse ways to start your day than having a fine pair of eyes smiling at you, Oma would say.

What can I say? Opa’d grumble back, flipping through the paper. It’s impossible to compete with Butch Cassidy.

Her fingers curl into the sheets. There’d be none of that today. Agent Jiang-- Obi’s assistant had gotten her Simply Orange instead. A small mercy. It’s hard enough to be someone else when there’s still so much her clinging to the edges.

It’s tempting to linger in bed; she’s always been a morning person, up with the birds, but maybe Claire isn’t. Maybe Claire likes to stay up late and sleep in, sleeping past the three alarms she sets for herself. Maybe she likes to have waffles for breakfast, straight from a box, and drinks pomegranate juice. Maybe she doesn’t bike into the lab at eight because--

She groans. Because Claire doesn’t have a job. A thing that will have to change soon, since Claire has to pay for this house.

There’s a great deal of compromise that happens between bedside and bathroom; habit insists she needs to be fully dressed, ready to greet the day, but everything else--

Well, she’s not going anywhere is she? There’s no reason she couldn’t wallow in her pj’s all day

Standards, habit insists. But those belonged to Shirayuki, not Claire. Claire has no job, no friends, and nothing to do on a Tuesday morning besides--

Oh no, the recycling.

The bin is nearly two-thirds her height, but with only one day under her belt, it’s already overflowing. Good thing she’d looked at that brochure when it slipped out from between the takeout menus.

She shrugs her hoodie a little tighter, pulling it down over her leggings-- habit and hedonism settled on exercise wear as a happy medium-- and grips the handle, tugging it out the opening garage door, right into the fresh Texas morning--

And promptly throws her hoodie back into the garage. She might need that with the downright frosty temperature the house is set to, but oh, she was not going to cover her skin out here any more than necessary. Even now, she’s starting to sweat in impossible places beneath her leggings.

Hooking her palm back around the handle, she tugs the bin down the drive. Her gaze fixes to the pavement-- the last thing she needs is to trip right over herself on her own driveway taking out the trash-- and she doesn’t look up until she hits the sidewalk. It’s a struggle to get it to sit right-- these are proper curbs, white poured cement with squared edges meant to puncture cheeky tires; one of the wheels catches in a gap and refuses to budge until she hip checks it out onto the next slab.

She’s damp at this point, skin dewing with giant drops of sweat she’s tempted to shake off like a dog, but--

But Martha Kino has an arm slung along their fence, holding a tall glass of iced tea that makes her mouth water just to look at.

“Oh, um, good morning!” she calls out with a weak wave. “I didn’t, um, see you there.”

It’s only when Martha slides her gaze to her that she realizes her neighbor hadn’t been looking at her at all. Her mouth curves into a knowing smile at the sight of her. “Good morning, honey. You here for the show?”

Shirayuki blinks. “The show?”

“Mm-hm.” Martha takes a long drag from her straw, ice clinking against the glass. “Here it comes now.”

Shirayuki tracks her line of sight right across the cul-de-sac, squinting at half acre of immaculately trimmed, completely invasive Bermuda grass. Their front garden is well-kept, as well; thickly mulched with giant hibiscus blooming blood red against pristine stone facade.

Oh, and there’s a man as well. That’s probably what Mrs Kino is looking at.

He’s tall. No, tall is an understatement; he’s a giant, six foot four at least with shoulders to match. He’s trimmed with the same military precision as his lawn, clean shaven with an undercut that could scratch glass. Heavy brows draw sharply over his nose, forehead rumpling as he tears a box right down the fold--

Ah, well, all right. It’s not doing much of anything for her, but the Vitruvian man’s more ideal cousin ripping up boxes definitely counts as a show. Halfway through, he grabs the hem of his shirt, mopping his brow, and ah, hm, he could definitely have made money as an anatomical model. His rectus abdominis are, ah...very defined.

“Is he--” Shirayuki searches for the words-- “from around here?”

“Oh, him?” Martha’s gaze doesn’t stray for a second, not even as she sips at her tea. “That’s Scott. Aspen’s husband. They just moved in a few weeks ago.”

Shirayuki glances around the neighborhood. Seems like more than a few of her neighbors hope they’ll never leave either.

“Quite the pair, those two,” Martha hums. “She’ll be at the luncheon. I know you two will just get on like houses.”

More like houses on fire if she mentions she’s seen her husband’s floor show. “Oh, right. The um, luncheon.”

Mrs Kino grins as Scott hops back inside, out of this heat, just like she’s dying to do. “By the way, he mows the lawn on Sunday, just before lunch.”

“Oh, um, great.” She’ll be sure to miss it. “Can’t wait.”

It’s too early to bake cookies.

There’s not a baked good on earth that tastes as good two days later as it does fresh out of the oven; Shirayuki knows that down to her toes and bones, but still--

Stress baking. It’s a thing. And she doesn’t have to make anything right now. She could get all the ingredients together, just to make sure she has them. And then...just not do anything.

She can. Definitely. Absolutely. She’s Claire now. Claire probably doesn’t even like chocolate chip cookies.

Oh gosh, who is she kidding? Only monsters don’t like chocolate chip cookies. What next, Claire doesn’t like brownies? Apple pie? Snickerdoodles?

It’s a slippery slope, not liking things. Best to just keep it simple and eat everything, that’s what Opa always said at the church potluck.

The morsels and brown sugar already sit out on the counter when her phone lets out a piercing ting. She’s half tempted to ignore it; she’s having a contentious battle with the ten pounds of King Arthur flour that’s tucked away in her cabinet-- what was she thinking?-- and she refuses to show any fear in the face of baking supplies but--

Ting. No one knows her number. Well, no one except the government.She settles back on her heels with a sneeze. The government probably doesn’t take kindly to being left on read.

Her hands clap against her thighs, flour misting into the air as she leaves two partial prints right over the helical print. She frowns, plucking at the fabric, nose wrinkling as more powder burst into the air. Ting.

“I’m coming,” she mutters, stumbling over to the island. “I’m coming.”

Sugar Daddy i got just what u need pumpkin check ur email

The corners of her mouth dig furrows into her cheeks as she clicks on the notification. It’s the only message in her inbox, aside from the ubiquitous Welcome to Gmail spam and a few coupons for Banana Republic and a couple of other retailers. They’d taught her about this at orientation; they couldn’t do much about an empty inbox, but everyone had at least a few mailing lists they’d either forgotten to opt out of or regularly used.

Still...what about her said Banana Republic? She glances down at her spandex-clad legs. If they were going to go for a too-expensive clothing line, they could have at least sprung for Lululemon.

Ah, but that wasn’t the point. Marshal Jiang-- Obi hadn’t texted all...that...to show off some spam. Sitting at the very top of her inbox is a Cornell email address-- Cornell-- with an attachment.

Dear Claire, the message reads, We’re so sorry to see you go, but I’m glad we’re able to keep in touch. Of course we kept the copy of your old CV. Good luck to you in all your endeavors.

It’s signed by some professor; not high profile enough for her to have heard of, but she doesn’t doubt that he’s real, someone a curious party could look up on Cornell’s directory. Well, at least for the next six months.

The Columbia alumna inside her writhes in agony. Cornell. She doubts it’s a coincidence.

Me Aren’t you supposed to be taking care of me?

Not that she’s very, um, up on the specifics of such a relationship, but she’d been under the impression that sugar...children?...were supposed to be fully reliant on their sugar parent. Her mouth pulls thin. Already she’s thinking about this far more than she’d ever hope to.

Sugar Daddy a good daddy makes sure his baby can take care of herself ;)

This declaration is followed by a stream of emojis, ending with an eggplant and a peach, and she just-- doesn’t need to know. She wipes away the sweat that beads at her hairline-- from embarrassment, of course-- and downloads the attachment.

Me I’ll take a look. Thank you.

She sets the phone back on the island, face down, and glares. He can’t possibly be like this to everyone. People would complain. They wouldn’t just let him insinuate that he-- that they--

Ting.

Sugar Daddy good girl

All right. Maybe they would.

Shirayuki doesn't get homesick.

She’d been the first brownie to leap out of her car at summer camp; Opa barely had time to lurch into park before she was traipsing across the field, backpack slung over her shoulder and duffel bag dragging on the grass. Freshman year, she moved into the dorm by herself, pressing kisses to wrinkled cheeks as she lugged her suitcases onto the train; she’d almost forgotten to wave from the window.

But as soon as she lays down in bed, the lights snuffed out and the world still, it hits her. Just a soft roll of her stomach at first, the barest itch on her skin, like wearing a wool sweater on a spring afternoon. It’s fine; too much to ignore but nothing that would keep her up too long.

It doesn’t stay that way.

Her stomach clenches, tears pricking at her eyes, and it’s everything she can do to just roll onto her side, letting the chills wrack through her body. She shivers so hard her teeth chatter, and this-- this isn’t the gentle ache of nostalgia her books prepared her for. This is an illness, plain and simple, like when she caught norovirus in eighth grade can could hardly do anything but lay on the bathroom floor and wait for the next wave to begin.

This isn’t her, she isn’t like this, she doesn’t get like this, but-- but--

Before she always knew her home was waiting for her; she could leave but Oma and Opa would always keep the front lamp on, waiting for weary travelers and last minute bookings.

It’s different now that there’s no home to come back to.

7:00, her alarm clock says. She watches it tick over, like she has for every hour before it.

She must have slept at some point; it’s impossible that she’s lain awake, staring at the clock for eight hours. But that doesn’t make her any less tired, and so when her alarm starts up, beeps cutting through the quiet white noise of the air conditioner, she reaches out and slaps it off.

Shirayuki may not sleep in, but Claire is certainly warming to the idea.

Her notebook sits open on the island; neat, looping script stretches across the page, straining the boundaries of the blue lines that contains it. She’d done her homework yesterday, combing through job sites to find the most likely candidates. There’s five on her list right now, ranked according to preference, and oh, is Shirayuki glad she had the gumption to do this before, because this morning she feels like roadkill being scraped off the blacktop.

Still, she worries at her lip as her laptop boots up, peering over her list. In the cold light of the morning, five seems too few, but...desperation hasn’t set in yet. She’s allowed to still have standards.

Wrapping her hands around her mug, she glances at the next page: another list. No, a set of instructions. Edit CV. Write cover letters.

Shirayuki groans. Even with the bullet points she left for herself, composing cover letters is a circle of hell all its own. With only three hours of solid sleep under her belt, it’s an insurmountable hurdle to getting hired.

“Right,” she murmurs, hooking an ankle around a stool and pulling it under her. “Editing it is.”

She clicks on the pdf Obi sent her, scrolling down and--

“Oh no.” She rears back from the screen, heart pounding. “No, no. There’s got to be a mistake...”

“Hey, baby,” Obi’s voice rumbles through her speaker. It’s thick and warm and would be utterly distracting if she were in any less of a crisis. “A little early for a b--?”

“What happened to my papers?”

“Uh.” All the suggestion in his tone evaporates. “What?”

“My papers.” Her hand grips the phone so tight it creaks. “They’re gone.”

His end goes silent. Silent enough to make that weird click, like the line’s cut out, and she pulls back to check--

“Someone stole your passport?” He laughs, incredulous. “Some sort of luck you have, Miss. Barely had it for a day and already you’ve gotten your identity stolen.”

She blinks into the barren air of her kitchen. “What?”

“You know,” he hums, too amused, “I picked out a cute house in the suburbs for safety, and here you are, getting robbed. Did you leave them in your car? Or did you just go out--”

“N-no!” She’s honestly half tempted to say what car, until she remembers the tasteful mid-sized SUV in the driveway, the one she’s still been calling the girlfriend car in her head, and realizes-- it’s hers. She’s the girlfriend.

Except she’s not. At all. Which is fine! She doesn’t even want that! If she’s still thinking about what his mouth feels like as he wraps them around his words, then--

She really can’t be thinking about this right now. “I mean my papers! I just looked at my CV and it’s a page!”

He hesitates, though not enough for the line to click again. “Isn’t that long enough?”

“CVs aren’t resumes,” she informs him patiently, pen twisting between her fingers. “They’re dick measuring contests--”

Her teeth snap around the words, but oh, it’s too late. They’re already out there in the aether, and he’s laughing.

“Now there’s something I didn’t think I’d hear out of you, Miss.” He doesn’t need to sound so pleased about it.

“It’s something my old PI used to say,” she mutters. Oh, Garak would be so proud of herself if she knew. “It’s not very polite, but she’s not, um, wrong.”

“I’m sorry the US government made you under endowed.” His words practically rattle as he says them. “It’s not the size that matters, Miss, but how you use it.”

“Obi,” she huffs. “All the work I’ve done for the past ten years of my life now is attributed to my birth name and my birth name only! According to this CV I have the same level of experience, but less papers than an undergrad! And you can’t tell me that any of these are searchable on PubMed.”

And none of them are first authors, is what she doesn’t say. It’s a petty thing to worry about when her entire academic career is functionally extinct.

“Hm.” His fingers drum quickly on a table. Desk? It’s strange not knowing anything about the man who is her only lifeline. “I’ll look into it.”

“I don’t want to be, um, alarmist, but I can’t get a job with this.” Her hand shakes as she scrolls down her screen. “No one is going to hire a post-doc with a one page CV.”

“Don’t worry, Miss. There’s a plan for this, somewhere.” She can feel his grin when he says, “You can’t be the first academic who’s had to go into hiding.”

She smiles, despite herself. “Considering some of the conferences I’ve been to, I can believe it.”

“Besides, you could always apply to pharmaceuticals.” The very word is like a donkey kick to her gut. “The pay’s supposed to be better--”

“I can’t work for Big Pharma.”

He hesitates. “You...can’t?”

“Obi, they make little old grandmas pay eight hundred dollars for insulin!” She presses a hand to her chest. “Banting and Best didn’t sell the patent for one dollar so that people could get gouged by--”

“I get it, I get it,” he assured her. “Preaching to the choir. But as a safety, I’m sure you could find one that isn’t stealing candy from babies.”

She huffs. “I doubt it.”

He rasps out a laugh. “I’ll see what I can do. As I said, can’t be the first PhD on the lam.”

Her mouth twitches. “Just yours?”

“You are certainly some kind of education, Miss.” He hums. “Give me a day. See what I can turn up.”

“You have two,” she informs him magnanimously. “I have the luncheon tomorrow.”

“Oh, right.” She doesn’t need to see him to know he’s lounging, smug like a cat post-canary. “Looking forward to joining the neighborhood’s Ladies’ Committee?”

“Ha ha,” she drawls flatly. “Very funny.”

He is unnervingly silent on the other end.

“You’re kidding, right?” Her voice certainly does not fill with a nervous quaver. “You guys don’t have things like that around here.”

Obi hums, humoring her.

“W-what would they even do?” She picks nervously at the sticker on her laptop, prying up part of NVIDIA. “Plan potlucks? Organize the Neighborhood Watch? Cotillions?”

She doesn’t know how he makes his grin so palpable over 4G. “Looking forward to your debut, Miss?”

Shirayuki scowls down at her screen. “I think I’m firmly up on the shelf, thank you. Now if you don’t mind, I have cookies to make.”

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #witness protection au #ans #i wanted SO BADLY to get to the ladies lunch this chapter #but a lot of the lead up in here got too long #and in the interest in cutting it at a place that made sense #it all got moved one chapter over #BUT it is almost to where the true conceit of this fic arrives #always a nice place to be

22 notes · View notes