#but :) i just rlly like these descs wanted to share | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cade-flrt · 4 years

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[🪐] WHEN SHE LOVED ME

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pairing. marcia x cherry

desc. where your soulmate’s name appears on your wrist once they’ve fallen in love with you, which only you and your soulmate can see

type. oneshot, song fic, soulmate au, angst

warnings. mention of death, illness

notes. nothing rlly except i hope y’all enjoy :))) based off the song when she loved me also this is a repost bc i deleted the last one by accident LMFAO

“when somebody loved me,”

whistling a soft tune with her eyes closed, marcia sat leaning against the fence of her front porch steps. she was watching the orange and red colours fall down south as the deep blue started to take over, slowly but surely.

it was a routine, at this point. to watch the sun set and to watch the redhead pass by her house each and every time.

sometimes they shared small glances, sometimes even smiles— but sometimes marcia just admired her, for a few seconds without the girl even noticing.

marcia got lost in thought thinking about her, and as if heaven above was listening to her, she heard the familiar footsteps walking by on the concrete pavement.

she quickly raised herself slightly, peering over the edge to get a peak at the girl as if she was some famous celebrity. marcia let out a small ‘tsk’ at herself, she’ll think your a weirdo. but then, she heard the familiar footsteps walking closer.

“hello!” the redhead stood in front of marcia, raising a small hand to wave. “i’ve noticed you looking at me for these past few months?” it was intended to be a statement, marcia could tell, but it came out more like a question.

“well it takes two to tango,” marcia replied simply which left the girl across from her confused. she crossed her arms and her hip was stuck out slightly.

“meaning?”

“you gotta be lookin’ at me too to see me lookin’ at you.”

she thought about it for a while, then a look of finality coming up on her face. “fair enough.” she said simply, going to sit next to marcia on the porch steps.

she felt her heartbeat quicken as the cotton of her sweater brushed against her shoulder, she was sitting so close.

“i’m sherri, but my friends call me cherry—“ sherri, or shall we say cherry, started introducing herself before marcia interrupted her.

“because of your hair? yeah figured,” she shrugged with a half smile on her face. usually, cherry would be mad at someone for interrupting her but instead this time she just let it go and decided not to mention it.

“yeah... you go to my school to something?” cherry asked, raising a singular eyebrow with pursed lips.

marcia let out a small sigh, “probably. but i could just tell, because your hair’s red, cherry’s are red... y’know... 2 + 2 = 4.” she replied playfully. she did know the cherry girl went to her school, marcia always saw her about.

“yeah i get it, no need to get smart...” cherry trailed off as she realised she didn’t know the brunette’s name. marcia probably would’ve answered quicker if she didn’t catch herself staring in her eyes.

marcia soon realised the situation and snapped back to reality, “marcia, the name’s marcia.”

cherry nodded, then standing up. “well marcia, i’ll best get going. my folks will be worried if i don’t get home soon, i’ll see you around yeah?”

“sure.”

“everything was beautiful,”

it was a few weeks later, marcia and cherry had gotten to talking and they soon became quite close friends. marcia enjoyed having cherry around, she always managed to put a smile on her face.

marcia stood, watering the flowers in her backyard as she was listening to the faded music playing from the record player playing from inside her house. she loved her flowers and other variety of plants, they made her happy every time she saw their beauty.

just like cherry, she thought with a small smile as she continued to pour more water without even thinking about it. she got lost in thought thinking about her new friend.

lord, how she hated that word.

“mar?”

marcia’s head perked up at the sound of the soft voice calling from beside her. “oh— cherry, you’re here.”

“yeah, just in time it seems too.” cherry chuckled a little, taking the green watering can from marcia to stop her from over watering the plants; though it seemed to be a little too late for that.

“you wanna go somewhere?” marcia asked, dusting off her hands on the light yellow skirt she was wearing. it protected her legs from the slight spring breeze.

“nah, let’s just sit here. watch the clouds or something cheesy like that.” cherry flashed her a wide grin, walking over slightly to lay down on the grass as marcia followed.

marcia felt the grass poke at her bare arms and back, inhaling the fresh air. “that one looks like a dinosaur.” she pointed at a cloud in the sky.

“hm, i’m not sure. i think it looks more like a car,” cherry disagreed, her head tilting to the side as her blue-green eyes examined the cotton like clouds above.

“and i think you need glasses if that’s what you see!” marcia exclaimed, sitting up on her elbows raising her eyebrows.

cherry giggled, slapping the other girl’s arm playfully. “art is subjective!” she reasoned in a higher pitched voice than usual.

“this ain’t art, this is just clouds?” marcia said, but it came out more as if it was supposed to be a question. she looked down at the redhead beside her, who was just staring up at the sky.

“well, i don’t know. i think you can find art in anythin’ and everything, beauty in anythin’ and everything. like these clouds; they’re beautiful, art-like— i mean look at that one! it looks like it was shaped perfectly by someone.” cherry explained her point of view which left marcia thinking about it for a while, and she ended up with the conclusion that she agreed.

marcia just then noticed that ever since she met cherry, everything was beautiful to her. or she could find the best parts in everyone and everything, guess that’s just cherry’s effect on people, is what she thought.

“every hour that we spent together,”

cherry sang a small song under her breath as she sat in front/underneath of marcia, who was sitting on her own bed. marcia ran her hand through cherry’s hair, then following it up with a brush. “can i do your hair?”

cherry just hummed as a small confirmation. at this sound, marcia continued and started braiding it into a singular braids. “your hair is so soft,” she commented with a small sigh.

“there’s a reason i take so long in showers.” cherry responded simply with a small shrug as she then stretched over to grab her notebook and started drawing something.

“what you drawin’?”

“just a little something.”

“should i be scared?” marcia asked, half joking half serious with a nervous laugh as she grabbed a band and tied the auburn locks at the end.

“no, don’t worry,” cherry shook her head. “plus if it was something bad, i’d be here to protect you.” she turned around to face the brunette and winked.

“wow, not scared no more!” marcia raised her voice a little and even marcia herself couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not.

she always felt safe with cherry around, as if nothing could touch her.

only cherry and her against the world.

just her and her best friend.

there was that word again.

friend.

“lives within my heart,”

marcia coughed into the handkerchief that she was holding in her hand. when she moved it away from her mouth, she noticed one thing and one thing only; it was stained with red.

a small gasp left her lips, the sight making her frown. “that can’t be good...”

“what can’t be good?” the same voice she had heard each and every day for the past few months asked.

marcia looked up and quickly crumpled the napkin up and threw it in the trash can, sitting in her room.

she looked down and realised cherry was carrying what looked like a crate filled with a load of varieties of things.

“oh it’s nothing... what’s that for?” marcia pointed to the said crate. she genuinely wanted to know but figured it would also be a good excuse to change the subject.

“oh, i figured we could go to the beach today!” cherry moved on from the past subject, seemingly forgetting it which made tension in marcia lessen.

“sure, sure, i’ll just need to ask my folks—” marcia started but cherry made a ‘mhm’ sound, wagging a finger. cherry placed the crate on the ground, letting her arms rest.

“already asked for you! they said yes, so you don’t really have an option here.” cherry put it simply. she walked over to the bed, dragging marcia along with her as they both fell down onto it. they both sat up straight.

“how funny,” marcia replied nonchalantly but on the inside her heart was beating and her cheeks were visibly heating up.

she never thought anyone would care about her like how cherry cared about her. she never thought anyone would think of her as much as cherry thought of her— or at least, she hoped cherry thought about her as much as she thought about her.

“cherry, you got your soulmate’s name on your wrist yet?” marcia pried, speaking out of nowhere and asking this question out of nowhere.

cherry gulped a little, looking a bit taken aback. she hesitated before answering, “yes..”

marcia’s eyes widened, her jaw dropping as she prodded her on to continue who it was. as cherry didn’t seem to get the memo, she simply grabbed the other girl’s wrist and looked down at the name tattooed in black.

marcia

they both sat there in complete silence for what seemed like centuries. marcia wasn’t quite sure what to feel, and she wasn’t quite sure on what was appropriate to react.

but marcia did know how she herself wanted to react.

marcia pulled cherry into her, connecting their lips almost instantly which made cherry’s eyes widen for a split second. she then relaxed into the kiss as marcia placed her hands on the side of cherry’s face, cherry placing her arms on marcia’s shoulders.

at first, they both didn’t move and just stayed like this but then they both started kissing each other back. their lips fit perfectly together as if they were building pieces that were made for each other, maybe they were. the universe works in funny ways, sometimes.

they both kept kissing each other in silence for what seemed to be hours, not making any other noises other than the smacking of their lips.

so much for a beach trip huh? marcia thought.

“and when she was sad,”

marcia paced back in forth in her room, she was waiting for cherry to get there and was biting her nails anxiously.

“mar? what’s up?” cherry came from behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. they had made it official only two weeks before, ever since that day marcia kissed her.

“i need to tell you something.”

“cheating on me, already?” cherry joked, but marcia didn’t seem to laugh which made cherry concern. cherry went to sit on the chair that was right next to marcia’s bed. she got more and more anxious the longer marcia put off telling her. “well come on, what is it then?”

marcia quickly but quietly hopped onto her bed, turning to face cherry and shimmied over to the edge of the bed. she held cherry’s hands in hers, almost to comfort her. “i’m sick, sher.”

“oh well that ain’t so bad, why you making such a big fuss over it?” cherry cocked an eyebrow, mistaking the information she just retained as marcia just having the common cold, a fever or worst case scenario; the flu.

“no, no. it ain’t like that,” marcia waved her off, continuing on. “i’m sick, like... badly, gonna be for a long time— hell, maybe even the rest of my life. doc said so, they don’t know what’s wrong with me just yet but they know it ain’t good.”

marcia tried to read the expression on cherry’s face but couldn’t seem to understand. she had no expression, just blankness. it was almost as if she was a blank canvas that was yet to be painted over.

“you gonna die, mar?” cherry finally reacted after the long silence, her voice shaking slightly and she released her hands from marcia’s.

marcia couldn’t tell if she was mad at her, or maybe just shocked. she decided to go with the latter, for her own sanity.

marcia thought about the question long and hard, trying to come up with an exact answer. but even marcia couldn’t answer it, instead she just kept silent.

but silence was a yes to cherry.

suddenly, cherry just stood up and walked out of the room.

“s’ she mad at me?” marcia asked herself in a low whisper. “golly, that’s all i need.”

“i was there to dry her tears,”

marcia had got told by her doctor to refrain from moving about if not necessary and was put on bed rest. she looked different. she was paler, looked almost gray-ish. her nails were brittle, her hair was thinner and there was less of it too.

cherry was there almost every hour of everyday. she made sure of it, and she made sure to look after marcia as best as she could. she would catch marcia up on what was going on at school, since marcia decided to make the decision to drop out.

marcia couldn’t help but feel guilty, as if she was robbing cherry of enjoyment. but cherry swore on the good lord that she didn’t mind, and would rather be there with her girlfriend than out there with randoms.

there’s a word she liked, girlfriend. compared to friend, she liked this word.

but marcia, every time she as much reached out, always noticed something. that her wrist was blank.

whilst cherry’s was stained with (seemingly) black ink that had marcia’s name on it. marcia had nothing on hers, meaning cherry didn’t love her.

“why’s that?” marcia would often find herself wondering.

you’re not good enough.

she likes someone else.

because you can’t do anything but stay in your bed all day.

you’re useless.

all these conclusions often circled around marcia’s mind, but cherry would say that it was a load of garbage and the universe is just playing games.

well that is, if they ever talked about it. they only talked about it once or twice, they didn’t like mentioning it and marcia tried to block it out of her thoughts as well as she could.

“open up!” cherry commanded marcia to do so, which she followed through and opened her mouth slightly. cherry sat beside the bed on the same chair as before, a tray on her lap with a bowl of soup. the spoon filled to the brim with yellow coloured soup found it’s way to marcia’s mouth after some time.

“you know,” marcia started but stopped to finish chewing a piece of chicken, “you don’t gotta feed me, i can do that by myself. i ain’t five.”

cherry just simply rolled her eyes at this statement, “well, yeah. but i like doing it, it makes me happy— don’t you want your girlfriend to be happy?” she gave marcia over exaggerated puppy dog eyes.

“yeah, whatever you want..” marcia gave in, swallowing the piece of chicken. truth is, she had started to lose her sense of taste. as well as her other senses, her sense of hearing was already pretty much gone and don’t even bring up her sense of smell.

god knows what goes next. her sense of touch and sight? well, marcia figured she couldn’t lose her sense of touch just like that but she was rather scared about her sight.

she remembered her doctor saying something about her potentially losing her sight and she felt it coming. her vision was getting worse by the day, becoming more and more blurry.

“you’d still like me if i couldn’t see or anythin’ right?” marcia spoke from out of nowhere, making cherry jump slightly.

cherry looked highly confused and put the bowl of soup and the tray on the ground. she frowned, “yes of course, that won’t change nothing. why?”

“just checkin’.” marcia lied, getting comfortable in her bed. she shifted about slightly, she just couldn’t get comfortable anymore. it was always too warm with the blankets over her, and way too cold without them on her.

her doctor and cherry alike recommended to keep the covers over her, as a lot of the time, marcia couldn’t even tell what her actual body temperature was.

marcia looked over to see cherry painting once more in the small notebook she brought around with her.

marcia was still yet to find out what she was actually painting, but she decided not to bother her.

she quickly found her eyes shutting close almost by herself, a wave of tiredness taking over her mind and body.

but her mind and body suddenly shot awake when she heard quiet sobs coming from beside her. “cherry?”

then, marcia looked up to find cherry sobbing into her hands with the notebook and painting set on the floor. marcia felt very confused on why she was crying. “what’s wrong?”

“it’s just that... you don’t deserve to be locked up here or whatever, it makes me sad y’know..” cherry tried to explain her feelings between sobs, marcia reacted quickly by stretching over to hold cherry in her arms. she hoped she made cherry feel as safe as cherry made her feel.

“it’s alright, don’t worry. it’s not that bad.. anyways, who was i gonna meet out there? the president?” marcia tried to cheer her up with a subtle joke, and it seemed to do the trick. “i got you, and that’s all that matters to me.”

cherry sniffed a few times before nodding, “yeah, i guess you’re right.”

“am never wrong, doll!”

“and when she was happy, so was i,”

“baby, oh baby!” cherry sang along to b-a-b-y by carla thomas, the record that was playing softly in the background. she was dancing about marcia’s room, the doctor had just been, as usual, and just left.

she was trying to cheer up marcia, as she noticed marcia usually felt much more sad when he came around. he wasn’t a bad guy or anything, he just never had any good news for marcia. he had just told them that he and the optician both believe she would be losing her sight much sooner than expected.

“i love to call you baby!” cherry continued to sing. she somehow found a scarf in marcia’s room somewhere and was dancing around with it.

even though marcia felt sad, whenever she saw cherry, she couldn’t help but smile.

it was cheesy, she knows but she doesn’t care.

even though marcia had the gut feeling all the time that cherry truly didn’t love her, she tried to push that deep down into the pits of hell.

“of course she loves me,” marcia mumbled to herself. over the loud music playing, cherry couldn’t hear what she was hearing— and she was far too distracted to notice anyways.

yet, she found herself glancing down at her wrist and winced at the bareness of it. there was still yet no ink to be found, she wondered what she could possibly do.

but then she saw cherry flash that iconic smile, and found herself distracted from all bad thoughts.

“through the summer and the fall,”

“marcia! get up!”

marcia jumped up from the bed at the sound of cherry’s voice shouting through the house. “jesus, cherry. if i wasn’t going to die as it was, i was gonna die of shock.”

“don’t make jokes like that.” cherry stated, in a very serious tone that marcia never heard her use before. she and cherry knew it was true, but they both mutually agreed to not bring it up. marcia was so weak now that she found herself not even being able to get up or get changed on her own, so often it was her mother or cherry helping her.

“i’m driving you!” cherry moved on from the topic quickly, deciding not to talk about it anymore and pretend it never happened.

“to where?”

“does it matter? just around the place. to get fresh air.” cherry answered the question, opening the curtains to get some fresh light in.

“i can get fresh air in here, yknow.” marcia turning to face the window, which cherry was standing right next to as she fixed the curtains.

“a short breeze from the window don’t count,” cherry started looking through her drawers. she pulled out some clothes and threw it towards— or directly at, marcia, (her face to be exact). “get changed.”

“jeez, i’m on it! i’m on it!”

after getting ready, (cherry helping), marcia and cherry were sat in cherry’s car. she was just driving around the place, going through small hills and remote areas. the radio was blasting loudly, and they were quickly driving by the beach.

“we should get a house by the seaside someday, how ‘bout that?” marcia offered, she admired the blues that made up the sea and the tan beiges that made up the sand.

“sure, and if a tsunami come then oh well!” cherry agreed to it, shrugging her shoulders as she tapped the steering wheel along to the beat of the song playing on the radio.

“at least we’ll die in a good house,” marcia shrugged, speaking half seriously and half sarcastically. cherry laughed at her joke, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“we had each other, that was all,”

marcia held cherry tight in her arms, as cherry was lying on top of her. she rubbed the back of her head softly, cherry singing soft lullabies.

“i ain’t a baby, you don’t gotta sing no lullaby to me,” marcia chuckled, rolling her eyes as she twirled a part of cherry’s hair with her finger.

“well you’re my baby!” cherry declared, giving a small kiss and marcia fake gagged.

“gross, never say that again!”

“oi, i’m trying to be nice here.” cherry faked a pout, leaning her head into marcia’s chest. she just listened to her heartbeat.

“i’d rather you tell me you want me dead than that.” marcia over exaggerated, which made them both laugh at the statement.

“well then, i want you dead!”

“well, your wish already seems to be granted.” marcia tried to joke along with her again, but cherry just stopped. she was no longer laughing.

“what did i tell you about joking about that?” cherry scolded in the same tone as before, marcia gulped fearfully.

“just she and i together,”

at this point, it had been about 2 years since marcia got sick. marcia couldn’t even leave the bed anymore, she was asleep half of the time and when she was awake she could hardly talk.

and one major thing.

there was still no name on her wrist.

not that she could see it anyways, her vision was completely gone. everything was too blurry snd the world around her was just one big blob.

all she could get out of the world anymore was cherry’s sweet voice beside her, talking about whatever was going on in her life.

“cherry?”

“yes?”

“you love me, right?”

“‘course.”

“you on my wrist yet, then?”

cherry stopped talking, and stopped breathing it seemed like at the question. she knew better than to lie to marcia about something like this, but didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

“don’t lie to me, now..” marcia said, shaking her head as her hands found their way to the sides of her own head in frustration.

“it’s just... i don’t know what’s going on.. maybe the universe is playin’ tricks or somethin’..” cherry tried to reason with marcia, she truly didn’t know what was going on.

“the universe playing tricks? that’s a joke if i ever heard one,” marcia scoffed, which left cherry rather upset. she had never talked like this before, but she decided not to mention it.

“it’s jus—”

“just what? you don’t love me, that’s what!” marcia raised her voice, which almost left cherry in tears at the sound. “you don’t love me! you obviously wanna be with one of those other girls! you don’t want me! you just pity me! well i don’t want your pity!” she shouted, obviously frustrated as her voice cracked at every word.

suddenly, her eyes shut tightly and that made cherry’s heart drop. “marcia!”

“oh calm it, it’s nothin’.” marcia said, her voice croaky as ever. she rolled onto her side so that her back was facing cherry.

cherry was relieved she didn’t just die on her but was still hurt by her words. she stood up and slipped into the bed, wrapping her arms around marcia’s waist.

marcia let out a sigh, she couldn’t stay mad at her much longer. she knew this, she never could stay mad at cherry. well, she never was mad at her in the first place.

“i’m sorry, sher. just frustrated is all,” marcia grumbled, her voice still sounded semi mad but cherry could tell her apology was sincere.

“don’t worry,” was all cherry said in response, planting a small kiss on marcia’s shoulder.

“i love you.” marcia said, she waited for cherry’s response but to no avail. it broke her heart, but she decided to just sleep it off. she’ll be better after some sleep.

“i love you too,” cherry admitted wholeheartedly. but marcia was already in dreamland by that time, so no one but cherry heard it.

if a tree falls in a forest when no one is around, does it really make a sound?

she was being truthful about it— well, she thought she was. cherry took a peek over marcia’s shoulder, to just see the blank wrist.

then it hit cherry. she was afraid of loving someone, and she afraid they were just going to leave her.

not marcia, though.

marcia would never leave me, is what cherry declared.

cherry woke marcia awake, “psst, marcia,” she whispered and just got a hum in response.

“i’m gonna go, okay? bye!” cherry told her in the same cheerful tone and stars yes to get out of the bed.

“not now... don’t say goodbye yet... maybe tomorrow...” marcia replied simply, grabbing cherry to stop her and dragging her back to her original position.

“alright, i’ll say goodbye tomorrow.” cherry agreed with a small smile, not knowing quite what she meant and she happily went to sleep next to marcia.

“like it was meant to be,”

it was the next day, after last night. and cherry had woke up, went back to her house and already walked back to marcia’s.

she walked up to marcia’s room, going to sit in her usual position in marcia’s room.

the chair next to the bed.

“hey mar, wake up.” she shook marcia awake, and even though it took a few times, she awoke eventually.

“oh hey, cherry,” marcia replied. her voice was even more raspy in the morning and cherry loved it. it was the only reason marcia spoke anymore, as speaking put marcia in even more pain but she never told cherry that.

they both sat there, talking about whatever (cherry done most of the talking). soon enough, cherry had pieces of toast and was feeding them to marcia.

“oh cherry, y’know that painting you started a few years back?” marcia recalled, waving her finger around for emphasis.

“yeah?” cherry said her words with a slight laugh, she found it hard to believe she could remember that but couldn’t even remember what she ate of lunch yesterday.

“what was that of?”

“oh just the clouds, y’know the one that we saw that one day? turns out it does look more like a dinosaur!” cherry exclaimed, clasping her hands together as all the pieces of toast were gone.

“told you i was always right,” marcia gave a small shrug as a playful grin was plastered on her face. “it’s a shame i never got to see it— your painting, i mean. i used to love your paintings, well i still do. i just love everything you do, to be honest. i just love you!”

cherry stayed silent at that, and instead her eyes darted towards marcia’s wrist which was still blank.

“my wrist is still bare, ain’t it?”

“how’d y’know i was looking at it?” cherry’s eyes widened and she sat back a little.

“could just tell,” marcia muttered, “listen, doll. don’t get too... hung up about it... i overreacted last night, it ain’t all that big of a deal.” marcia shifted around in her bed and laid down, as she started to cough, “just know... i... i love you... alright?” she told her in between coughs.

cherry started to panic, but kept it to herself, it wasn’t until marcia stopped responding to the calls of her name did cherry realise. wasn’t until cherry realised marcia was whiter than ever, her breaths stopping and her chest stopped rising did cherry realise.

she died.

marcia died.

marcia, as in cherry’s marcia, died.

she left.

just like the rest.

but no, she didn’t leave. she’s still here, just maybe not physically.

cherry’s chest tightened and her whole body followed, loud sobs was all that came from her as she sobbed over her girlfriend’s dead body.

marcia had died.

and she knew what she meant now by ‘say goodbye tomorrow’, she knew she was going to die.

marcia knew herself she was going to die imminently, but instead of telling anyone or getting help. she decided to spend her last few hours with her, cherry.

cherry didn’t know what to feel, and then it hit her.

marcia died thinking cherry didn’t love her.

thinking no one loved her.

all because of some stupid mark on the wrist.

“it’s stupid! it’s all so stu—” cherry started screaming by now, the tears rushing down her face but then something caught her eye.

cherry

stained right on the love her life’s wrist.

then it all made sense.

the feeling of true love was all too unfamiliar to cherry, and feeling like this when they left you was new to her.

she then realised, because she had been scared to love marcia incase she left her... now that she was gone, she had nothing to lose. she wasn’t scared, she had nothing to be scared of.

“i love you,” cherry confessed. this time, she really did mean it.

but one again, she was too late. no one... no one but herself heard it.

if a tree falls when no one else is around, does it make a sound?

she loved marcia.

but marcia would never know.

and never will know.

all because cherry valance was scared to love.

“when she loved me.”

#the outsiders #the outsiders cherry #cherry valance #the outsiders marcia #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders imagines #the outsiders oneshot #marcia x cherry

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astralaffairs · 4 years

Text

put a ring on it 03 | philip hamilton

title: put a ring on it

pairing: philip hamilton x reader

words: 11k 🤪

warnings: rlly none! hectic families, stupid pet names, uncomfy emotions, compromising positions. also dont any of u dare get as close to another human as is depicted here anytime soon. pls flatten the curve. social distancing is cool i swear.

a/n: lmao remember on part 2 when i said i wouldn’t take as long to update this time? here we are, almost exactly a year later, even tho i wrote 8k words of this in the past couple days. enjoy!!! better late than never ig.

desc: You’ve never liked Philip Hamilton, and have always assumed the feeling has been mutual. But when you’re roped into pretending to be his girlfriend for a family reunion, you feel all your truths beginning to melt away, and find them instead taking form in his smile.

tags: @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @superbarriobrothers @tf2germanvillain @ela-ena @abundant-stars @heytheredee-lilah @abovethyfold - lmk if you want to be added; sorry if i missed anyone!!

Philip had brought you coffee without you asking.

It was mid-morning after your shower; the carpet of Philip's room was soft under your feet as you grabbed your phone off the marble countertop of his sink, just enjoying the peaceful silence. You scrolled briefly through your texts, smiling as you declined an offer for a manufactured emergency from Patsy (not before you seriously considered it, though). You slid it into your back pocket before padding down the stairs to find wherever Philip had gotten off to.

And thus, you were met with the distinctly strong smell of coffee.

Your footsteps stalled only a moment. You furrowed your brow; the corners of your lips quirked as you continued into his kitchen. You found him sitting at the end of the table opposite where you stood, glasses pushed down the bridge of his nose, reading a newspaper and sipping coffee from a paper cup. Your smile grew as he didn't even realize you were there; you leaned forward, resting on the chair nearest you as you bit your lip.

"Hey." Your voice was soft as he looked up, giving you a soft smile as he met your eyes.

"Morning, princess," he hummed, taking another sip from his cup as he eyed you, his eyes crinkling at the corners with his smile. "How'd you sleep?"

"Pretty well." Your yawn came through in your voice despite your words, and he nodded, averting his eyes back to his paper. Neither of you dared mention how you'd woken up tangled in each other, your legs intertwined with his, hands in his hair and with his arms wrapped loosely around your waist, your head against his bare chest. Instead, you broke the silence with, "So, you gonna share any of that coffee with me, Hamilton? Or were you just gonna ignore these bags under my eyes?"

You pointed to yourself with mock annoyance, and he chuckled, putting down the newspaper. "What, you don't think I picked up anything for my girlfriend?" He raised an eyebrow, and you rolled your eyes, slumping into the seat opposite him.

"Oh yeah? What'd you get me?" Your tone was flat as you pinned him with a skeptical stare. He only grinned, leaning back and grabbing another paper cup from the counter behind him. You raised your eyebrows, eyes widening in the slightest. It probably shouldn't have come as a shock to you, but you couldn't help your surprise at the gesture.

He chuckled at your expression. "I can't believe you'd underestimate me like this." He put a hand on his heart with a mock pout as he passed the coffee across the table to you, and you took a seat, rolling your eyes.

"What's the catch?" you asked dryly.

"Does there have to be a catch?"

"Last time you brought me coffee I ended up here." You raised your eyebrows, looking at him knowingly, and he chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"Alright, I get it. Point made." He grinned as he reached again behind him, grabbing a small brown bag and holding it out to you by its rolled opening. "But I brought you a croissant to make up for it."

Your eyebrows shot up when you saw the other bag, eyes widening in the least. "Coffee and food? Now there's definitely something up." You shot him a questioning look, and his obvious self-content didn't waver.

"Think of it as a "thank you'." Your skepticism far from dissipated, but something in the soft smile he wore made you take the bag from him with no further questions, a soft smile of your own gracing your lips.

You breathed in the warm, sweet air from the bag as you opened it, sighing at the smell of the croissant. As you broke a piece of it off, you looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. "So anyway, where's your family? House seems eerily empty."

He chuckled, raking a hand through his loose curls. "Yeah, it is. My siblings are all still at school for the next couple hours, and Mom and Pops are out getting breakfast with the Lafayettes. Said something about wanting to 'give the happy couple some time to themselves'."

You rolled your eyes. "So no one else is home?"

"So we're finally alone." He wiggled his eyebrows at you suggestively, and you scoffed.

"Just 'cause you brought me a croissant doesn't mean I'm about to jump your bones, Hamilton. Don't get your hopes up," you informed him dryly, but his amused grin didn't waver.

"Since we have the day free, though," he continued just as brightly, ignoring your unimpressed expression, "I figured I'd show you around the town a little, take you a few of the places I used to go."

You raised a brow. "Oh, yeah? I'm getting the grand tour?" A smile had at that point worked it's way back into your expression, sitting slightly lopsided as it played at your lips, though you tried to contain it. "Where are you gonna take me, Hamilton?"

His grin grew at your words, taking another sip of his coffee to hide his self-content. "You'll see."

-----------------------------------

"Where are we going?" you groaned as he tugged you around another corner in the quaint downtown of his small city. His grin never faltered; he seemed very much to have a set agenda. There were people and places he wanted to see. Seeing as this was his family reunion weekend, you couldn't have blamed him.

"C'mon, we're on the block now," he assured you, pulling you along in his haste to find the little storefront, wondering if it had yet changed the aging display in its frosted glass windows. You scoffed audibly, and he let out a little laugh. "What, don't believe me?"

"You'll forgive me for not trusting the eighth time you've told me we were almost there," you said dryly, letting him pull you along regardless. He shot you a look over his shoulder.

"No need to exaggerate, princess."

"Don't think I haven't been counting, Hamilton," you shot back, giving him a pointed look, and he rolled his eyes.

"Just come on."

You (grudgingly) allowed him to drag you along three more blocks, unsure what had overtaken you -- your feet were getting sore, your stomach was starting to cramp (you needed to work out more), and you really just wanted to sit down. Yet, something about how earnestly excited Philip was managed to keep you going, just a few more yards, just a few more yards. You tried to ignore the lopsided grin thrown over his shoulder and the teasing lilt to his voice that met your complaints.

"Here we are." He skidded to a halt in front of three stairs, a stone stoop, leading up to a glass door. You raised an eyebrow, turned your gaze to him.

"Where, exactly?"

His smile grew, and he nodded forward. "See for yourself."

You rolled your eyes as you followed him up, and he reached for the handle just before you, holding it open. You didn't acknowledge the action, just continued forward into the small shop.

It was an adorable space, dimly lit and colorful. Leafy plants spilled over from pots above the windows, contrasting with the bright red window frames on the sunny morning, interspersed with framed photos and paintings packed tightly together on the limited wall space. Soft guitar music drifted through under the buzz of chattering customers who'd arrived for their morning coffee. You could smell the coffee brewing behind the counter, the scent mixing with the sweeter one wafting from the ovens behind a swinging door.

"C'mon." You yelped in surprise as Philip's arm found its way around your waist, and he shot you an amused glance. You let him lead you forward, though, fighting the heat that began to rise in the back of your neck.

You neared the back of the store together, your gaze still wandering around the adorable coffee shop as you walked, and as the woman behind the counter caught sight of you, her eyes lit up in recognition.

"Philip!" She dropped the rag she'd been wiping her hands with onto the counter, rushing out from behind it to greet him as his arm came back around from your waist, instead pulling her into a tight embrace. You sighed internally as his warmth left your side.

"Hey, Aunt Maria," he said, grinning as he pulled back from the hug. "How've you been?"

"Worse without you," she scolded, whacking his chest lightly. "It's been what, four years since you've been home? Felt like an eternity."

He laughed, eyes still shining as he spoke to her. "Yeah, it's been too long. I've just been so busy."

Maria scoffed and promptly turned her attention to you, clearly not caring for any excuses for Philip's absence. "And who is this?"

“I’m Y/N,” you started, your smile unsure. At this, Philip also turned his gaze back to where you stood, grin growing on his face. “His girlfriend.”

Her face lit up again at this, immediately pulling you into a bone-crushing embrace. "Oh, you're the pretty thing I've been hearing about from Philip's parents for so long? It's so great to meet you."

You laughed as she finally pulled away, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. "I guess that must be me, unless there's another woman, hm?" You raised an eyebrow at Philip, grinning, and he just rolled his eyes. "It's good to meet you too, though."

Philip rested a hand on Maria's shoulder as she released your forearms, an affectionate look in his eyes as he glanced down at her. "Aunt Maria's an old family friend, Y/N. Pops helped her out of a tough spot when I was younger, and we’ve forced her to stick around with us ever since."

She smiled, putting a hand on his as she looked over at you. "I owe the Hamiltons big. They really changed my life a while back, helped me get away from my ex-husband, start a new life on my own. Can't thank them enough, honestly."

Philip rolled his eyes at that, giving a dramatic huff. "You owe us nothing. You’re all we need."

"Then stop spending so much time in the city!" she lectured him, giving a shell of a glare, and he laughed.

"I'll keep it in mind."

She glanced back at the counter over her shoulder, where her employees were still diligently taking orders, making coffee. "Anyway, I've gotta get back to work, but can I get you two a cup of coffee? Donuts? Crêpes?"

Philip looked at you as he came back around, pulled you softly to his side with an arm around your waist and a raised eyebrow. You gave Maria a warm smile.

"Just a coffee would be great."

"Same for me, then," Philip added, and Maria winked at the two of you as she made her way back to the counter.

"Two coffees coming right up for the happy couple. Feel free to have a seat anywhere," she called to you over her shoulder, and you grinned.

"Wanna sit down?" Philip asked, and you pursed your lips, pinching the hand that was squeezing your waist. He yelped, withdrew his arm from you with a wince, and you nodded and gave an easy smile.

"Let's go by the window."

He rolled his eyes as he followed you. You slid comfortably into one of the smooth wooden seats, glancing out at the sunny morning before you, and he sat across, an eyebrow raised.

"So, what do you think of my hometown so far?"

You looked back at him wearing a soft, mischievous smile and cocked an eyebrow at him. "You really wanna know?"

He fixed his stare on yours, and your grin grew (though you tried to suppress it). "Yeah."

"It'd be better without you here."

He scoffed loudly at that, turning his head from where he had sat facing you, his grin near indistinguishable in his indignant expression, and you couldn't suppress your full-bodied laugh at his reaction.

"C'mon, really?" While he tried to maintain his scowl, turning back to you had his smile widening at your repressed giggles. He fixed a glare over his gaze as you tried to swallow your grin. "God damn, I ask you a legitimate question, and you can't resist ripping on me?"

"It was just too easy!" you defended, brushing your hair away from your face as you looked sheepishly back at where he sat, shaking his head. "Honestly, though?"

"I dunno, am I gonna get an honest answer?"

You knew very well his skeptical expression was well-earned, and you grinned, rolling your eyes as you defended yourself. "Yes!"

He shrugged, motioning to the space between you, a silent go-ahead. You sighed.

"It's really nice." You glanced around the coffee shop as you spoke, your eyes ultimately finding his again, though now a dreamy look was painted across your features. "It's... homey."

"'Homey'?" he repeated your answer with a breathy laugh, and you rolled your eyes, playfully shoving the arm he had resting on the table.

"See, this is why I don't take your questions seriously, Hamilton," you scowled, feeling your face begin to grow hot at his reaction. "Give you an answer and you just make fun of me."

He chuckled as he reached for your hands, still resting on the table as the heat did not subside from the back of your neck. He took them in his, enveloping them as he gave you a simper. "Aw, c'mon, I'm not trying to tease you." His simper turned to a mocking pout, and you scoffed, rolled your eyes.

"Oh, whatever, Hamilton." You didn't pull your hands out of his grasp, though, refusing out of sheer spite to meet his eyes.

"I'm not kidding!" he defended himself, and you could see out of the corner of your eye the grin return to his face, seemingly entertained by your reaction. You were a bit preoccupied, though, with inhibiting the blush from your cheeks as you couldn't seem to focus on anything other than, God, how warm his hands were. You were painstakingly aware of every time they shifted against yours.

"'M glad you feel at home in my old town." Your annoyed gaze was still fixed on the table before you as you heard him let out a sigh, dropping his face to break your line of vision. "Princess?"

"Don't call me that, Hamilton."

He deadpanned. "Y/N."

You met his eyes with an expectant look, and for a moment, you just held his stare, almost didn't notice when your breath caught as the corners of his lips quirked upward. You frowned.

His grin only grew at your adverse reaction, breath coming out in a puff of laughter. He shook his head, tongue in cheek. "Loosen up."

The way he squeezed your hands reminded you how close the proximity between the two of you was. You could feel your heart jump in your chest. When his thumb smoothed over your knuckle, you felt suddenly very self-conscious about how sweaty your hands were.

You took a deep breath, feeling unable to hold his gaze any longer, looking out the window beside you. Thankfully, Maria chose that exact moment to arrive with your drinks.

"Two black coffees, right up!" You froze when you met her beaming expression, flinching as you almost tried to yank your hands from Philip's, feeling like a deer in headlights. He squeezed your hands softly, his expression concerned at how panicked you looked. You plastered on a smile, reminding yourself as your face heated up that you were there as his girlfriend, this was supposed to be normal, it was expected. What made you uncomfortable was exactly how normal it felt.

"Thanks, Maria." You withdrew your hands with a smile to take your coffee from her. You ignored her raised eyebrow, her pleased half-smile.

"You sure there's nothing else I can get you?" The maternal look in her eyes turned playful as she folded her arms. "Anything else to drink? Some lunch?" Her eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch. "Some privacy?"

You choked on the long sip of coffee you'd been taking, trying to catch your breath as Philip just laughed. You set the mug down as you coughed into the back of your hand, trying to stifle it.

"I think this'll be all for now," he said, "We probably aren't gonna loiter too much longer, don't worry."

Maria gave him a warm smile, a smile you only caught a glimpse of as you emerged from your coughing fit. (You also caught a glimpse of Philip suppressing a laugh at you, and made a mental note to chew him out for it later on.)

"You know you could spend forever here and I wouldn't mind."

"I know." You couldn't help but notice that his smile in return didn't quite meet his eyes; something melancholy lay behind them as well.

As she pursed her lips, you thought her expression looked quite a bit like your mother's when you left for college, almost tearing up, but holding it together for you. "Well, let me know before you all leave," she said softly, "You know I don't see enough of you around here as is."

"I know. We'll see you tomorrow, though? At the reunion?"

"Wouldn't miss it." The quiet sadness in her eyes disappeared as quickly as it came, and she reached down to squeeze your shoulder affectionately. "Looking forward to seeing the both of you there." Her wink before she turned away was blatant. You couldn't help your soft smile.

------------------------------

"So, when do I get to meet the rest of your family?" He'd taken you out through the middle of town, refusing to let on to your destination. It was a nice day out, luckily for you, but you still weren't fond of having to reach all your destinations on foot -- if you'd wanted a walking tour, you'd have asked.

He shrugged, hands in his pockets as he walked alongside you down the sidewalk, appreciating the lush greenery that lined the streets, and your gaze rested on his faraway expression as you raised an eyebrow.

"Dunno. Whenever my siblings get home. Angie'll be coming in before they all get outta school, so she might even be there when we get back, but the rest of them have classes for a few more hours."

"'The rest of them'? How many siblings do you have, Hamilton?"

"Just six."

"Six?!" you repeated, eyes wide, and he just nodded.

"Yeah. The youngest is four, that's Eliza, and I'm the oldest."

"How old are the others?"

He pursed his lips, as though deep in thought, and you really couldn't imagine having to strain to remember a sibling's age. "There's William, at seven, then John, who's eleven, James is fifteen and Alex is seventeen -- they're the ones in high school right now -- and then there's Angelica, who's nineteen."

You couldn't help but let out a low whistle at that. "Sounds exhausting for your parents."

"Really. I was the easy child, and it was all downhill from there." He grinned, and you rolled your eyes.

"You were the easy child? Tell me why I find that hard to believe." Your challenging tone just made him shrug.

"Dunno, princess. I've just always been so responsible that my parents had an easy time with me."

"And at what point did you lose the responsibility trait?"

"I mean, when I found out I could pawn off all my responsibilities onto you..." He trailed off with a grin, laughing when he saw your glare. "Aw, c'mon, I'm just kidding."

"What, about being responsible? Or about pawning your responsibilities off on me?" You raised a skeptical eyebrow as he shrugged. "Because we both know it's not the latter."

"Hey, let's not forget that you're here because you didn't wanna take on a responsibility."

"A responsibility you pawned off on me!" You scoffed, and his amused smile only grew, hands stuffed in his pockets as you walked alongside him.

"Why must you be so focused on pointing fingers, Y/N?"

"I'm not pointing fingers, you just--"

"We're here." You skidded to a halt as he cut off your rant at it's beginning, too absorbed in your argument (despite how obviously he was baiting you) to have realized he stopped walking. You raised an eyebrow, turning to face exactly what he was looking at, and while he began walking in without a second thought, you paused a moment, taking it in.

What stood before you was the oldest building you'd seen so far in town, its structure essentially in ruins, ivy crawling up the eroding brick, moss running down it. The only thing that tipped you off to the fact that you weren't being lead to a remote location where no one could hear your screams was a small metal sign above a descending staircase, a single light above the path. By the time the full sight had processed, Philip had since reached the staircase and was watching your reaction with an eyebrow raised, a soft smile gracing his lips.

"You coming?"

You exhaled. "See, I'm not trying to make any accusations, but all I'm saying is that if I were to murder someone in this town, this would be the place for it."

You followed him, though, as he grinned at your hesitance, and what you found at the bottom of the staircase was far from what you'd expected. You entered behind Philip into a sleek but old-fashioned bar, somehow teetering on the line between an antiquated tavern and a nightclub. Your eyes were wide as you scanned the place, empty at the moment, save one person standing behind the bar, wiping down glasses. The chairs were up on the tables, the televisions were shut down -- you assumed Philip hadn't brought you there for drinks, but instead for the handsome stranger who had just caught Philip's eye with a growing grin.

"Philip Hamilton?" he called out the moment the door shut behind us, his disbelieving smile echoed in Philip's reaction. "Never thought I'd see the day. Thought you'd abandoned us all for city living by now."

Philip let out a huff of laughter as he reached the counter, pulling the man in for a hug over the bar. "Whatever, man. I don't wanna hear it." He pulled back with a skeptical look in his eye, holding him by the forearms. "It's been two years since I've been home, but I've never gone three damn months without seeing you since college."

"Touché. It's good to have you back." With that, though, the man's gaze flickered over to you, eyeing your form with an eyebrow raised, a small but triumphant smile. "But you've still managed to keep your lady from me ever since you and her got together. Afraid I was gonna steal her?"

"More afraid she'd meet my friends and immediately run for the hills," Philip snorted, causing the other man to shove him lightly from across the counter.

"Anyway, I take it you're Y/N?" He seemed to be ignoring Philip's jab at him in favor of redirecting the conversation from him.

"That'd be me," you said as you went to join Philip, smile wary and your hands tucked in your pockets.

When you reached the bar, he narrowed his eyes, leaning down to eye you skeptically. "Tell me, how much is Philip paying you? Hm?" Your eyebrows shot up, and he continued, "I mean, we both know he has the money to be battin' above his league, but I didn't think he'd be willing to fork over that much just for a weekend."

While his manner had you hesitant at first, his words made you laugh. If this was what Philip's friends were like, the weekend might go by quicker than you'd expected.

"This is actually pro bono," you sighed, raising your eyebrows as though you were confiding in him. "I've always been a bit of a philanthropist, so I took pity and decided to help out the less fortunate--" You gave Philip a pointed look, though he just rolled his eyes. His entertained smile betrayed his feigned annoyance. "--for a few days."

"You really are a saint."

"I consider myself more of a martyr." While his friend laughed, Philip raised an eyebrow at you, expression toeing the line between amused and exasperated. You extended your hand. "It's great to meet you, though, um..."

"Georges Lafayette," he supplied, shaking your hand. "I'm an old friend."

"Ahh, so that's you," you folded your arms, smile growing. You stole a glance to your right, and Philip was busy feigning shock that you'd actually listened to his friends-and-family crash course. When he met your gaze, you rolled your eyes. "Philip speaks fondly of you, regardless of how he may speak to you." There was a teasing lilt to the tail end of your sentence, and while Philip scoffed, Georges cracked a grin.

"Hope he's been doing me justice." He sent you a wink as he went back to wiping down the rims of the glasses that sat before him, pulling them from the dishwasher and shelving them. "Knowing him, I'm betting it's nothing compared to how he talks about you, though. Ever since you joined his office, it's been nonstop."

"Oh, really?" You raised an eyebrow at Philip, but he didn't meet your eyes as he took a seat next to you at the bar.

"You'd better bet. You've become something of a household name these past few years."

"Should that worry me?" you teased, electing to sit as well. You hopped up onto the barstool.

"Not this time." He chuckled, nudging Philip where he sat, leaning forward on the bar. "Worried me at the start of the whole thing. I figured he'd immediately fucked this up." He motioned between the two of you. "By the time you got together, I'd already found him three eligible rebounds."

"Aww, babe." You plastered on a teasingly contrived pout, turning to rest a hand on Philip's knee, meeting his unimpressed gaze. "Maybe if you hadn't spent three years pawning your responsibilities off on me, I would've been more receptive to your total lack of tact."

Georges laughed, and you grinned unabashedly as Philip let out a huff devoid of annoyance. "Oh, c'mon; let's not pretend I was the tactless one." The corner of his lips twitched as you raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"Really, now, be honest." You hadn't the slightest clue where this was going, and Philip looked increasingly satisfied with your expression. "You were the one always yelling at me for leaving early, chewing me out for showing up late, finding excuses to come talk to me--"

"We work together," you interjected, unimpressed. Your words didn't seem to hinder his monologue.

"Now that I think about it, is that why you always looked so agitated when Theo came around?" He raised an eyebrow, looking thoroughly pleased, and you ignored the heat creeping up the back of your neck. You chalked it up to annoyance. “I’ve gotta say, jealousy actually is a good look on you.”

"Whatever," you scoffed. "I had to come to talk to you about the projects I was working on because they were the ones you pawned off onto me. And you know Theo has been obnoxious since day one."

He laughed, disregarding your vexation. "I mean, yeah, but she brings me coffee."

You narrowed your eyes, genuinely in disbelief. "Is the fact that you're just using her for coffee supposed to make me feel better?"

"Of course." He shrugged, as though it was obvious, and you caught Georges's amused expression out of the corner of your eye. Philip winked. "You know I've only got eyes for you, princess." You groaned, turning away from him in your chair, not wanting to look at the satisfaction you caught dancing in his eyes. You didn't like how consoled you felt.

You turned to Georges, deadpan. "Has he always been this unbearable? Or did that develop after the manipulative streak kicked in?"

"In our Philip? What manipulative streak?" He furrowed his brow in contrived disbelief. The two men shared a look, their smiles mirroring one another. "But if you wanna know if he's always been this tactful, then for sure."

It appeared Georges had decided to take Philip's side on this one. You groaned internally. "Don't you start now!"

"Sorry, Y/N, Philip claimed my loyalty years ago. You're on your own."

You pinned the pair of them with an accusatory stare, a smile playing on your lips nonetheless. You didn't love that it was turned against you, but you couldn't help but find their rapport entertaining. "You two are insufferable, you know that?"

"We've heard." Georges shrugged.

"Usually from each other," Philip chimed in.

"Or your siblings." Georges glanced at Philip. Neither of them was addressing you anymore.

"Or your ladies," Philip shot back, "Usually your exes by the time we heard it."

"We were always a little hard of hearing, huh?"

"Always. Think we heard that one from Emilie, though." Philip raised his eyebrows, gaze playful. You could only assume that was one of Georges's exes. He huffed.

"You leave my wife outta this!" Indignant was the only word you could use to describe his expression, and Philip snickered as he ducked away from the rag Georges had tried to hit him with.

"You're still lucky she took you back after that."

"She loved me too much not to." He looked smug with that, but his voice had softened. "Anyway, it's your girl we're talking about this time, so you'd better tread carefully. Right, Y/N?" He looked over at you, an eyebrow raised, obviously expecting you to jump on the chance to tease Philip. You folded your arms.

"Oh, so now you're on my side?"

Philip grinned, obviously pleased with your response, whereas Georges groaned. "Hey, I'm tryna balance the scales back out, alright? Didn't wanna let Philip get too cocky, but it looks like you let that one happen anyway."

"Don't you blame me!" You jabbed your finger at him, eyes narrowed. "You took his side first; I didn't take his side at all!"

"Sure seems like you're on his side now." Georges raised his eyebrows at Philip, who looked positively smug.

"I'm against you now. This isn't about him."

He laughed. "Tough. Looks like your girl's already cutting you out, Pip."

Philip's face fell as he grumbled, "Don't call me--"

"You call him Pip?" You hoped your expression came off as endeared. Blatantly finding ways to antagonize him didn't seem like it would've fit your role. "That's adorable!"

"Y/N." His tone was warning. Your grin didn't falter.

"Oh, can I steal that?"

"All yours."

You let out a soft aww, a hand held to your heart, and put your other hand on Georges's forearm. "I can't thank you enough."

Philip stood with a huff, seemingly having had enough of you two. You raised an eyebrow -- were you leaving already? "I'm gonna run to the bathroom," he said, annoyed gaze never breaking from Georges's. "Don't cause too much trouble while I'm gone."

"I dunno, Pip; I was never the responsible one." Georges shrugged innocently, and Philip couldn't seem to help his amusement at his antics. "Do my best, though."

"Can't thank you enough," Philip mocked you to Georges as he turned, walking off toward the back.

Georges called after him, "You're welcome!"

Philip didn't respond, but Georges seemed more amused given that. He turned to you with a grin, leaning on the bar.

"So, Y/N." You raised an eyebrow. "I need to hear more about you; Philip's been holding out on us all these years. Took the entire family to even convince him to bring you home to meet us."

"Then I guess I shouldn't mention how long it took him to convince me to come here, huh?" The words were truer than he knew; however, he interpreted them very differently from the truth. You raised a playful eyebrow, and he laughed.

"That's tough."

"You asked."

"Sort of," he corrected you, brow furrowed, and you grinned.

"No, but really," you started, deciding to actually explain yourself. "We've just been busy, couldn't find a time to get down here together."

"Oh yeah? Been getting a little too busy down in NYC?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively, and you rolled your eyes with a huff.

"You know I didn't mean it like that!" You swatted at his arm, coaxing a laugh from him. "Our schedules just didn't line up. We never had the same weeks or weekends free to get out of the city."

"So this is your first time traveling together?"

"Guess so."

"Try not to kill him before the weekend's up." He winked. You kept quiet; Georges didn't need to know quite how high the odds of that happening really were. "But really, enough about him. Where are you from? Where'd you go to school? When are you and Philip getting married?"

You ignored the last question altogether, knowing that reacting to it one way or another would only encourage him. "I'm from the west coast. I was born just outside of LA, moved later on to Chicago, and then came to New York City for college."

"Yeah? What made you choose NYC?"

"My ex, actually."

"Oh, really?" He looked surprised at that tidbit of information, and you tried to just shrug it off. "Must've been pretty serious then, huh?"

"It was." He noticed how quiet you went at that, and he didn't press the point, deciding instead to change the subject.

"So Philip must've been a pretty good rebound?" He nudged you, wiggling his eyebrows, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"He..." You paused, considering how you were supposed to respond to that. "He's definitely exceeded expectations, to be perfectly honest."

"Hmm, I dunno how good that sounds, Y/N." He raised a skeptical eyebrow, small smile playing at his lips. "How low, exactly, were your expectations?"

You pursed your lips, but your amusement betrayed you. You hadn't expected to be called out on the truth behind your statement. Your gaze dropped to the bar before you, and you drummed your fingers on the varnished wood. You shrugged. "Not that low."

He let out a snort of laughter. "What an absolutely glowing review. I'll be sure to let him know."

"Hey, don't you betray me like this!"

"I've made it clear where my loyalties lie." He held up his hands in mock surrender. "In all seriousness, though, why were your expectations so low?"

Again, you were unsure of how much to reveal. "Let's just say that Philip isn't much for first impressions."

"Really?" His surprise appeared genuine, before he tilted his head to the side, considering it, and shrugged. "I guess, with you, that shouldn't surprise me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You folded your arms, needing more information before you could decide whether you were offended. He saw your furrowed brow and grinned.

"I don't mean that as a bad thing. Honest." He paused, considering himself, and you raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue. He leaned onto the bar, and he spoke matter-of-factly, beginning to explain. "So, Philip's always been good with people. And he's definitely never had any problems with girls. He was in and out of casual relationships all through high school and college just for the hell of it."

Your eyebrows shot up. "Really?" The disbelief in your voice was blatant, and he cracked a smile.

"Yeah, he actually did have some tact, once upon a time. Was a charming kid; I never could figure out how he did it." He shook his head, amusement in his eyes. "But... well, when something matters to him -- or someone -- he goes looking for advice, and everyone else's input just ends up shaking him up. Think I mighta given him advice about you once or twice, so I guess you have me to thank for that."

For a moment, you were stunned. You swallowed, trying not to get too caught up in your head with the information he’d shared, but given its nature, it was hard not to overthink. You tried to match his lighthearted expression. "And what advice would you have given him?"

"Well, five years ago..." He squinted ever-so-slightly as he considered your question. A silent laugh slowly etched itself into his features. "Y'know what, it doesn't matter. Just trust me when I tell you, it was bad advice."

"Georges!"

"Seriously, you don't wanna know." You glared at him, leaning onto the bar where you sat. "I'm sorry to leave you hangin', but I promise, telling you helps no one."

You huffed as you slumped back in your seat. "Are you that bad at relationship advice?"

"Worse than what you're imagining," he assured you, and you shook your head, exasperated.

"How in the world are you married?" The question was a joke, but despite his chuckle, his answer wasn't.

"I think some things are just meant to happen." You raised an eyebrow. He shrugged, wearing a small smile. "Seriously, I was an absolute fool in college -- and I mean that -- but no matter how many times I fucked up with Emilie, she always ended up back in my life. It was usually just coincidence. We were taking the same classes; we had the same advisor; we were on the same subway through town; our dorm rooms were right across from each other.

"And honestly? She kinda hated me at some point, but we kept being thrown together, and we got to know each other pretty well. Call me crazy, but it felt like fate." The distant look in his eyes shifted to something akin to entertainment, after that. "Similar thing happened with Philip, actually."

"Really? When?" You were genuinely invested by that point.

"Junior year of high school." He nodded to himself, thinking back with a grin. "Yeah, that was a hell of a time. Like, one week in, Philip and I had this huge fight. Don't even remember what it was about, but it had us really heated."

"Honestly, I can't imagine you two fighting," you said, and he gave a shrug, his smile agreeable.

"Nah, not anymore, not like that, but we were teenagers," he said, as though that entirely explained it. "But I was only supposed to have one class with him that year, so he tried to switch out of it to get away from me. They ended up having to remake his schedule so he was in every other class with me. Poor kid couldn't escape it, but if it wasn't for some underpaid high-school administrator, we probably wouldn't be friends."

"Sounds like you have a lot of luck," you said, and he grinned.

"That's just it, though." He pinned you with a thoughtful look. "Was it luck, or was it just meant to turn out that way?"

You considered it for a moment. His stories did sound like the longest odds imaginable, but when you thought about your own life, you couldn't help but hope he was delusional. You'd had more than your fair share of bad luck in your life, and once upon a time, it had driven away almost everything you cared about. You didn't like to think that your misery could just have been some cruel twist of fate.

You opened your mouth to respond, uncertain, but Philip had apparently chosen that moment to re-emerge, inadvertently cutting you off.

"Speak of the devil!" Georges called out, his grin wide, and Philip eyed you both skeptically.

"You two are still talking about me?"

Georges glanced at you, and you told him, "I'm hearing all about your high school years."

Philip groaned. "Oh, c'mon man, what are you telling her?"

"We just covered your junior-year mullet and your fez-wearing phase," he informed him, meeting your eyes with a playful smile. "I was just about to fill her in on when you joined the bowling team in our senior year, but--"

"Alright, that's enough outta you." Georges shot you a conspiratory wink as Philip cut him off, though neither you nor Philip could hide your amusement. He, however, tried to play it off as annoyance. "Sounds like we're gonna need to get out of here before you get to the highlights of college."

"Aw, but Pip, I'm learning so much," you pouted, and he looked mildly exasperated as he met your eyes.

"That's what concerns me." Georges laughed while you groaned, and Philip's smile reappeared as he took a seat to your right.

"Then just wait'll I tell her about middle school."

---------------------------------

The rest of your evening was a whirlwind. Having grown up with only an older brother, you hadn't realized quite how many six siblings were -- that changed quickly. You really couldn't believe Angelica had managed to grow up with five brothers without losing her mind. Family dinner stretched on into the night, chaotic to the brink of your comfort zone. You found yourself enjoying it much more than you'd expected to, however. The Hamiltons were as lively as they were numerous, and you couldn't help but laugh along.

"But you were the one who got the room alone!" It took an hour or two, but you'd gotten Philip's siblings' names down. That was James, the younger high-schooler, yelling across the table at Angelica, who made a face.

"I was a seventeen-year-old girl! I couldn't keep sharing a room with my younger brothers!" she shot back, "You scared away three of my boyfriends! Three!"

"You never had to bring them up to our room, but you wanted some alone time with them." It was John, the eleven-year-old, who chimed in this time, making kissy sounds at Angelica who just mocked him.

"I had a right to some privacy!" she shot back. You didn't remember how they'd wandered down this line of discussion, but it seemed to be an impassioned one. Alex Jr. scoffed loudly.

"Hey, I'm seventeen, and I don't have my own room," he interjected, glaring down the table at their dad. "This is a double standard!"

"We have a toddler in the house; grow up," Alex Sr. sighed, which only seemed to further upset Alex Jr.

"Hey, William was Eliza's age when Ang was my age! That's not fair!"

"It doesn't matter; you aren't getting any girls anyway." The sneer came from John.

"Hey, I'm getting plenty--"

"Oh, yeah? Where are they?"

"I haven't brought them home because you can't seem to--"

"Boys! Relax!" Eliza did her best to quell the growing argument, but it seemed to be to little avail. Alex put a hand on her shoulder with a suppressed laugh as she huffed, clearly exasperated.

"Don't make this about me! I'm an incredible roommate!"

"Have you seen our bathroom lately?"

"Come on," Angelica groaned, her annoyance getting lost in the growing cacophony. John was shouting now, leaning over the table at his brother, and you jumped in your seat when James yelled back, deciding it was now his place to join the conversation.

You didn't realize you had grabbed Philip's forearm in your startled fit until he broke your train of thought.

"Alright, princess?"

Your head whipped toward him, surprised to see him leaning in to talk to you, and he looked thoroughly amused by your reaction. You released his arm from your grasp, giving him a sheepish smile. "Your family really is something."

"Believe me now that I was the easy child?" he asked, and you let out a snort of laughter, gaze falling back to his family.

"There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that you were like this ten years ago."

"Hurtful," he scoffed, mocking offense, and you just shrugged, smile growing.

"They had to learn it somewhere."

"It was all Angelica."

"I'm sure."

The woman in question broke the wall of noise at almost exactly that moment, raising her head from her hands. "This is exactly why I needed my own room!" That just turned the younger boys into a united front against her, and she looked to Philip with a sigh. "I'm starting to understand why you waited so long to bring Y/N home."

"No idea what you could be referring to. They're so charismatic!" Philip shrugged, plastering on over-exaggerated confusion, seemingly just to get a rise out of his sister. She rolled her eyes with a groan; it appeared to be working. She turned to you.

"Please don't run for the hills just because our younger brothers are absolute monsters," she said, gaze pleading as she reached for your hand. You smiled, amused despite yourself. "We really need some sanity in this family. I can't take family dinners being just me with six boys."

"Aw, Angie, are you saying I'm not one of the absolute monsters?" Philip interjected with a pout. "I'm touched, really."

You and Angelica both rolled your eyes at his antics. It was then that you decided you liked her.

You leaned over the table toward where her hand was desperately clutching yours. "You've got me for the rest of the weekend, but I'm not sure I can promise more."

She groaned exaggeratedly, and Philip nudged you lightly in the side, grinning mischievously. "What, don't you love my family so far?"

His words were teasing, but your soft smile as you looked back at the people surrounding him was anything but. "I do, actually."

When you met his eyes again, his gaze was softer, grin less pronounced. "Good."

The table had slowly grown quieter throughout your interaction, and it seemed you'd held Philip's gaze for just a moment too long, and you turned to see the entire family watching the two of you. You felt your face heat up, took a sip of your water. From then, there was silence, until a grinning William decided to break it.

He'd been quiet for the majority of the meal, so it surprised you when he turned to you, eyes shining. "So, Y/N," he addressed you, tone businesslike.

"I think we've spent enough time questioning Y/N already," Philip interjected before he could continue, resting a near-protective hand on your arm. You cast him a grateful look.

"C'mon, humor him," James said, his grin matching William's. "It's hardly eight; we have plenty of time."

"We started dinner at five." Philip sounded unamused.

"We haven't spent that whole time interrogating her," he defended, and Philip gave him a pointed look. James turned to you. "Right, Y/N?"

While you sighed playfully, playing up your exasperation, you really didn't mind it. You'd never had a family like this before. "I suppose not."

"Anyway," William interjected, looking as stern as a seven-year-old could. You pursed your lips, fighting back a laugh as you folded your hands and leaned toward him, mirroring his expression. "Y/N."

"William." You did your best to imitate his tone.

"When are you and Pip going to have a baby?"

Your eyes widened immediately, and your mouth fell open in shock, if only for a moment. Philip groaned beside you, leaning back in his chair, and you could hear his parents laughing at the end of the table. Some of his siblings looked exasperated; others waited eagerly for your answer.

"Well, um..." You trailed off as you glanced at Philip desperately, hoping he'd shut his family down so you didn't have to. He hadn't yet seemed to have recovered. Your face was burning as you tried to continue. "We aren't married, so not anytime soon, but--"

"When are you getting married?" William pressed, seemingly unaffected by everyone's reactions to his words. You leaned forward, had to take a sip of your drink to hide your surprised laugh.

"Sorry to say it, but right now, we don't know that we are getting married, so I'll have to get back to you on that question." You gave him an apologetic smile before you looked back at Philip, eyes wide. This was territory you didn't think you'd have to cover. He just shook his head and mouthed, 'I'm sorry.' He appeared wholly exhausted.

"Surely you've talked about it before, though, haven't you?" It was the older Alex who chimed in that time, hesitant. Eliza gave him a look. "I mean, getting married, having kids and all that. You've been together for two years; you must have considered it at some point."

"Pops," Philip said through gritted teeth, the word carrying an unsaid warning.

"What? I'm just curious," he defended, despite Eliza swatting his shoulder. He raised his hands in mock surrender as he glanced at her, eyes wide. "If you haven't, it's fine. I don't mean to rush you kids into anything, but I just wanted to know."

By then, though she sighed, you could see Eliza looking at the two of you hopefully. The whole table fell silent, expecting an answer you didn't have. "It's just... not something we've taken into consideration at this point. We aren't really set on making decisions about that anytime soon."

"Do you want kids, though?" Angelica asked you, and Philip sighed. Like you, he'd hoped the topic would fall away after your weak explanation. You hesitated, not sure whether giving them a legitimate answer would only egg them on. Ultimately, you shrugged.

"I mean, personally? Yeah, probably at some point," you offered, playing nervously with the edge of your napkin. You didn't want to look at Philip. "The whole 'settling down and starting a family' thing is something I've kind of always pictured"

"Is it more appealing now that you see how great having a big family is for us?" Alex Jr. asked, words saturated with sarcasm. You laughed as he grinned exaggeratedly, gesturing to everyone down the table.

"I know you're joking and all, but I really wouldn't mind this being my day-by-day."

"Really?" Philip chose that moment to finally interject, an eyebrow raised, and you nodded, feeling suddenly defensive.

"I mean, yeah." You shrugged, shoulders tense. "What, wouldn't you?"

"I would.” His lips quirked as he sat forward in his chair once again. “But, honestly, I didn’t think this was your style.”

"I'm not totally set on anything, but..." You didn't elaborate further. Confessing to him the future you wanted had you feeling uncomfortably vulnerable. His smile was soft as he faintly nodded, eyes crinkling at the corners.

There was a pregnant pause before Alex Sr. spoke.

"I guess now you've talked about it."

------------------------------------

Dinner ended much later than it needed to, and afterward, they just herded you into their living room. It seemed that now since they all had you in front of them, they were going to take advantage of the opportunity to ask you anything and everything about yourself and your love life (with a focus on Philip, of course). You did your best to field the seemingly endless barrage of questions, and though it took you a while, you finally figured out how to deflect the more uncomfortable ones onto Philip. It wasn't until you yawned -- rather loudly, too -- that the conversation reached any sort of stopping point.

"Tired, princess?" Philip wrapped an arm around your waist, lightly squeezing your side, and you sighed, not having enough energy to push back on the pet name.

"Little bit," you mumbled, a weary smile still adorning your lips. He chuckled, and you couldn't help but lean into his embrace, feeling more drained than anything, and rested your head on his shoulder.

"You two should head up and get some sleep," Eliza said. The look in her eyes as you met her gaze was affectionate. You didn't notice your smile growing.

"I second that. You look exhausted, Y/N," Alex added, looking to you and Philip sympathetically.

You chuckled at that, and you couldn't help the lazy sarcasm that leaked into your voice as you responded, "Thanks, Mr. Hamilton; glad to hear it."

"Alex," he corrected you, his smile kind. He didn't seem to take any offense at your tone; instead, amusement danced in his eyes, and you nodded, matching his expression.

"Alex."

You couldn't decide whether the warm feeling in your chest as you bid everyone goodnight, letting Philip lead you to the stairs, was the result of your fatigue, the merlot Eliza had offered you around seven (and then three more times in the hours that followed), or if it just came from being around his family. It had to be some combination of the three, but you had a sneaking suspicion it leaned mainly toward the latter.

The two of you walked in easy silence, you still reminiscing on everything that had happened that day, everyone you'd met, and you didn't notice Philip watching you as you hung onto the railing to your left. You weren't in any sort of headspace for vigilant observation. Instead, you were fixated fondly on his family. It was never an environment you'd been in, so rowdy and energetic, but tender and caring all the while. You'd been dreading this weekend -- seriously, you spent about an hour on the drive down drowning out Philip's soliloquy, spaced out and wondering whether it was too late to just turn around and dump him off on the side of the road. (Patsy wouldn't have even questioned it when you arrived home.) The past however-many-hours, though, almost since you'd just woken up, had you questioning a number of assumptions you'd made, and not just about the family reunion.

You stumbled over one of the last stairs as you lost yourself in your train of thought. Your eyes snapped wide open; your grip on the railing tightened. Just as you felt yourself beginning to tip backward, you found yourself in Philip's arms, his grip on your waist steadying you as he looked down at you, amused.

"You alright?" The air hadn't yet returned to your lungs; your pseudo-crisis must have begun and ended in under a second, and you stared up at him blankly. You blinked, just beginning to process your surroundings.

Catching your breath was more of a struggle than it should've been, however. All you could discern was the feeling of his fingertips pressing into your skin, the feeling of his breath on your neck as he looked down at you. You weren't even that close together, but clinging to his arms for what seemed like dear life had you feeling mildly defenseless. You couldn't miss the growing concern in his eyes.

"Yeah," you breathed as you realized you'd let the silence stretch on too long, long enough for Philip to question it. Being tired (and gravitating toward wine-tipsy) must have just heightened the panic in your system, must have slowed your reaction time. Another beat passed, and you finally pulled yourself upright, taking a deep breath as you continued up the last couple of stairs and down the hallway. Philip's concern didn't dissipate as he came up after you, but your mind was elsewhere.

You had to promise yourself to keep from drinking the next day, feeling exasperated with yourself as you couldn't seem to collect your thoughts. He caught up to you as you entered his room, and pulled the door shut behind him with an eyebrow raised. You didn't see him watching you, a silent question in his gaze, as you dragged yourself over to your suitcase.

You turned around after pulling your pajamas out and froze when you met his eyes. "What?"

He pursed his lips. "You sure you're okay?"

"Of course," you reassured him, giving a weary smile. "I'm just tired; don't worry."

You didn't let yourself ponder any longer, and though you could see your answer hadn't quite appeased him, you ignored it. The room was quiet as you both picked through your suitcases, brushed past each other entering and exiting the bathroom. You were both more than ready to get some sleep.

Just before you were about to climb into bed, you paused, unable to help your drifting gaze. Philip was still in the adjacent bathroom, brushing his teeth, and you glanced back at him. Considering the circumstances, briefly vetting his room felt like fair game.

Your eyes scanned the walls, noting the different posters he still had hung up, appearing to all be from different times in his life -- some were much more worn than others, and you couldn't imagine he'd been anxiously awaiting the new Scooby-Doo movie anytime recently. You wandered over to the desk, the corners of your mouth twitching up into a small smile as you noticed the books and pictures stacked high on the surface. Your fingertips brushed against one photo, and your gaze fell to it, seeing Philip and three other people all in party hats, their celebration frozen in time.

You could hear his footsteps stall behind you as you poked into his belongings, but it didn't discourage you.

"When's this from?" you asked, turning to him with the polaroid you'd uncovered. He chuckled as he walked over, plucking the picture from your hand.

"Eighteenth birthday party," he said, eyes crinkling at the corners as he eyed the photograph. He turned his gaze back to you with a small smile. "You're actually gonna meet all the people in this photo this weekend, assuming they all show up."

You raised an eyebrow, stifling a yawn as you took a seat on the perfectly made bed a few feet in front of him. "What, couldn't get anyone but family to celebrate your eighteenth with you?"

"Hardly." He hummed, ignoring the aim behind the insult. "My dad lost most of his family when he was young, though, so while you'll meet all of Mom's family this weekend, Pop's is all just his friends who he's adopted into the family, and then their families. These three are his friends' kids who I grew up with," he said, motioning again to the photograph.

"That's sweet," you said softly, pushing yourself further up the bed, hugging your knees to your chest.

"Hmm?"

"That your dad chose this entirely new family, I mean." He shrugged, walking over to join you on the bed.

"Yeah, I guess so," he said, "Never really thought much of it, I guess." He paused, eyeing you with a raised eyebrow where you sat. "What's your family like? You don't talk about them much."

You pursed your lips. "Small."

"Yeah?" He took a seat next to you after pulling himself onto the bed. Your skin jumped as the outside of his thigh rested against yours, his hip less than an inch away, and you could feel his body heat radiating off of him. You nodded, swallowing hard as a soft smile grew on your lips.

"Just me, my parents and my brother."

"That's it?" He looked surprised at your explanation, and you just shrugged. "What about cousins, grandparents, aunts, uncles?"

"Two aunts, no grandparents, no cousins."

"Really," he sighed, seemingly still in disbelief. A teasing grin worked its way onto his face as he elbowed you lightly. "So I won't be going to any family reunions in the L/N household anytime soon, then, huh?"

You laughed despite yourself. "Doesn't look like it. The closest we ever get is when my brother and I are together in NYC and Mom and Dad drive up to meet us for a couple days. Not much of a production."

"Sounds nice, though." His grin had grown by then as he looked over at you, leaning back to meet you where you sat. By then, he was sitting angled toward you with his legs crossed, reclining back on his hands. You shifted, and the hand behind you brushed against his. "Next time the L/Ns get together in New York, though, I'd better be invited. Quid pro quo, princess."

"Oh, of course," you replied jokingly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Might be a little quieter than what you're used to, though."

He rolled his eyes. "At least you're letting me know ahead of time." You shifted to turn yourself toward him, again finding him only inches from you. He looked as surprised as you did, but neither of you moved, and he continued, tone light. "Speaking of, sorry for not warning you about how... chaotic my family gets. It's been a while since I've been with them all at once, and I forgot to consider that this isn't how everyone's families work."

You chuckled, your smile growing. "No, don't apologize. They're sweet."

"Not the word that comes to mind." He pursed his lips, looking down at you skeptically. You rolled your eyes, but he couldn't have missed the mirth in your expression. "Then again, considering that, it's no wonder you get along with them."

Your jaw dropped in mock outrage. "What's that supposed to mean?!"

He shrugged, feigning innocence despite his smirk. "Nothing much. Just that I'm glad you feel at home with my family."

You huffed out a laugh, pulling yourself up to jab a finger in his chest. "Now don't you dare even pretend that wasn't an insult!"

"I don't know what you're talking about." His grin didn't waver.

"Oh, don't play dumb," you scoffed. You both knew the fury in your voice was contrived, and his amusement seemed to grow. "We both know what you meant."

"Oh, yeah?" He pushed back on you, leaning in against your hand, an eyebrow raised. "What'd I mean, princess?"

"I said don't pretend," you warned him. He was looking increasingly smug the more indignant you became, and you narrowed your eyes.

"Who said I was?

"I'm not stupid." You raised your eyebrows.

"'Course not." He mocked your expression. "So you must already know I would never mean anything other than praise by that, huh?"

You rolled your eyes with a groan, having had about enough, despite the smile you were failing to stifle. He laughed, and you reached out to shove him away by the chest, but just as you did, he tried to grab your wrist, eyebrows raised.

He was too late.

As he grabbed your wrist, you couldn't pull back to where you were sitting, and your eyes widened as you lost your balance. Your momentum turned what would've hardly tipped him over into a much more forceful push, and you sent him falling backward, his legs unfolding as he tried to catch himself, with you, in turn, collapsing forward with a yelp. You ended up on top of him, one hand still held to his chest, the other beside his head, and you knelt straddling his waist. Both of you had wide eyes as you realized the position you were in, nose-to-nose, and your breath caught in the back of your throat.

He was the first to speak, eyes shining, his voice low. "Y'know, this wasn't quite what I had in mind when I asked you to come home with me for the weekend."

However, you were still stunned into silence, hyper-aware of any movement either of you made. You had to focus on your breathing in an effort to calm your pounding heart. (With your hand on his chest, you could tell you weren't the only one.)

You felt your hair brushing against your cheek as it fell forward, draped beside your head over Philip. It must have been subconscious when you found yourself leaning in further yet, must have been instinct based on the situation. Nonetheless, when you did, the side of your nose brushed against his, and you felt his heartbeat quicken, saw his eyes widen.

You paused when you must have been less than an inch above him.

"Y/N," he murmured, voice cautious as his free hand found its way up to your waist. You stalled, though, for another moment, shivering when you felt his breath fan across your lips. He was all but immobile beneath you, too apprehensive to make any move one way or another.

The anticipation in his eyes only heightened with each passing second.

It was then that you pushed yourself off of him, blinking hard, and you couldn't decide whether you had lost your nerve or regained your sense. You swallowed, took a deep breath. "Sorry, I... I didn't mean to, um--" You cut yourself off. What in the world were you thinking? The question arose in your mind desperately as you scrambled further back, further from him. Your face was burning. "I wasn't--"

"You're ok," he said softly, giving you a reassuring (yet, slightly worried) smile. You didn't meet his gaze. "It was a mistake." You were so lost in your own train of thought that you didn't notice when Philip finally stood, walked to the empty side of the bed to join you.

"We should get some sleep," he said, turning on the lamp beside him, and you nodded. The past few minutes had you spiraling. All his actions were hesitant; had you scared him? You didn't mean to end up in that position. He knew it was just a mishap, right? Did you know that it was?

He stood briefly to hit the light, and you crawled under one side of the covers. After a moment, he joined you. Neither of you knew quite what to say next.

"G'night, princess," he finally murmured, voice as wary as it was soft as you curled into the sheets, and he pulled them over himself alongside you. You closed your eyes in an effort to forget that you were still facing him, shifted over to give him space. Your calf brushed against his knee, but you didn't pull away.

When you heard the lamp turn off, you finally spoke again. "Night, Pip."

The room was completely silent after that, but neither of you was at rest. You lay with your eyes tightly shut, your thoughts running a mile a minute as you willed yourself to stop replaying one specific moment on a loop.

You didn't realize your brow was furrowed, but Philip did, watching you for just a moment longer with smiling eyes.

The bed was just a little bit warmer that night.

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