#but ethan being forced to wear his old clothes

[raspberrywiskey]

ethan chandler you live in my mind always!

[writersblockiskillingme]

Timezone | Damiano David

Pairing: Damiano David x female!reader

Summary: As Damiano and you are forced to be apart, you both slowly start to feel like you're loosing your mind.

Warning/s: Language (maybe like one curse word that is repeated two to three times), mention of smut (but not explicit), Google translate

Author's note: Here is another Damiano song imagine I hope you like it. I might make one with Thomas Raggi very soon 🤫

You're wearing my old clothes, but you, you wear it better

And every time I sew your face, the moon should be jealous

And I keep talking to the wall 'til he's a friend of mine

I call you every hour just to tell you that I'm loosing my mind

Now I know you're sleeping

Where I'm supposed to be in

Wish I could've stayed

Damiano has had enough. The fame felt too much and the videocalls, phone calls and messages weren't enough anymore. He was practically pulling his hair out as he continued to mindlessly walk around his hotel room. His completely empty hotel room. He looked at his perfectly made bed and at his perfectly sorted out clothes in the closet and Damiano was finally, officially done. He couldn't take this torture anymore.

He strolled mindlessly to the big window of his hotel room as his eyes roamed around the busy streets of LA. People were rushing everywhere and Damiano realized that they were completely obvious to his suffering. He thought it was unfair.

He roughly ripped the cigarette out of the back pocket of his jeans. As he went to light up the cigarette it begin to accur to him that sun was still shining brightly in the middle of the sky. He realized that the moon must be keeping company to his beloved. Not that you were probably enjoying the darkness that the moon swept in, he thought. You must be still deep in your sleep considering the fact that it was probably middle of the night where you were right now. As Damiano opened the window and stepped onto the balcony he let himself enjoy the bright rays of sunshine on his bare back. He blew the smoke out of his mouth and looked towards the sun. It was shining so bright that Damiano was pretty sure that it was mocking him. He knew that it was mocking him. The sun was pure reflection of his life right now. It was shining on him so brightly, but it also reminded him that you are not in the same position as he is right now. He was covered in sunshine yet you were bathing in moonlight. It wasn't fair.

With a sigh, he threw away the cigarette and returned to the room closing the window behind him. Empty room remained him not only of you, but also that his band mates were out right now. Damiano was pretty sure that they went out partly because of his constant whining about not being able to do more that to just see your gorgeous face over FaceTime. It wasn't his fault that he was whining about it constantly, he thought. Those calls were sometimes quite impractical, anyways. For one, he couldn't touch you. He could only watch your beauty from far away. He couldn't smell your sweet scent. Your shampoo. Your perfume that he sometimes liked to steel away just so that he could smell like you (it was fine you did it with his perfume, too). He knew that Vic, Thomas and Ethan were practically sick of him now because he was talking so much about you. Ethan thought that he looked like a tortured puppy whenever Damiano mentioned how much he misses you. You were talking to everyone on the band, too and Ethan knew that you were like that, too.

In fact, everyone got so worried for you two because as time went by and you two spend much more time away from one another it looked like you both started to not take as much care for your well-beings as you did before. Everyone saw how much this long distance affected both Damiano and you. Thomas barely stopped Vic from buying Damiano tickets back to Italy (you moved there with him) one hour before the show so he could see you.

Damiano was done. But he couldn't help himself. He just kept calling you when the moon is shining in LA, when some people were asleep like dead and some people were partying until they die. He just wanted to hear your voice yet he knew that everytime he calls you, you can hear desperation in his rough voice. Damiano was very well aware that he was slowly loosing his mind. Especially when it was night where you were and you were deep in your sleep. He didn't want to disturb you, so he somehow managed to gain some self control and not call you then. It was all right, though. You were loosing your mind, too.

He took one more look at his perfectly made up bed and knew what was missing.

If you two weren't apart, you would be sprawled out on the bed, bare back facing the door, hair messed up, face pressing into the pillows, deep in sleep after the passionate activities that him and you took part in the night before. His whole hotel room was mocking him. He knew that very well. All this torture... it took everything in his willpower to not run to the airport and never let you go from his arms.

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is seven thousand miles, running like a mad dog

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is a different timezone

So fuck that I'm dreaming, this fame has no meaning

I'm coming home

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is a different timezone

"So how is the tour going?" Your slightly raspy voice asked him.

It was an early morning in Italy and you just woke up from your slumber. In fact, you were still in bed. On the other hand, Damiano has been awake for hours. It was still dark outside and he put his laptop outside on the balcony on the fresh LA air. God knows he needs it.

"It's good." Damiano told you. "It's good..." He repeated slowly as he finally blew out another little cloud of smoke from yet another cigarette.

The way he repeated his answer seemed like he was just trying to convince himself that everything was perfect, that everything was just the way he imagined it to be. But you knew better. You knew he was hiding something and you were pretty sure that you could guess what it was.

"What is wrong, amore?" You asked him and for a moment, when Damiano looked back from the night sky to the screen, he felt himself freeze.

He knows that you are beautiful, but the way that you smiled sadly at him and the way that one piece of your hair fell in front of your eyes, he was once again hit with the feeling of loneliness. It painted him greatly because even though he can se your breathing smile and hear your melodic voice, it wasn't the same. You weren't really there with him. For a bare moment he didn't say anything, you figured that that would happen. So you went on.

"I know when something is wrong." You told him and he started to deeply stare in your eyes, you felt like he was staring into your soul. It was truly curious considering the fact that you had a videocall. "Your eyes start to drop in a certain way. They get more serious." You continued, your voice softening with every word you said and he noticed that. He always does. Just like you always do, too.

"The tour is going amazing. Vic, Tom and Ethan are amazing like always. But you know what is wrong." Damiano took another hit from the cigarette and quickly blew another cloud of smoke out of his mouth. He started to smoke more. You noticed that fact after your 50th call this week. He started to smoke more then he usually does and you could partly guess why.

"You're right. I do know." You sighed as you rubbed your hands over your face. In return, he turned his concerned eyes back to you. "It's killing me, too. I feel like I can't do it anymore either." You admitted to him. He let his hand run through this hair as he put out the cigarette with his other hand. You could just watch how he smashed it in the ashtray angrily.

"I miss you so much it hurts." Damiano heard himself admit this to you for like the millionth time today. "I just want you to be back in my arms. I can't fucking do this anymore. I don't want to."

"Me neither."

Tomorrow I got another plane, I'm not gonna take it

Instead, I'm gonna fly straight to you, I'll pay double for the tickets

And I don't give a shit about the contracts that I signed

And they can say whatever, we'll be making love, I'm fucking you tonight

Now I know you're sleeping

Where I'm supposed to be in

Wish I could've stayed

Victoria, Thomas and Ethan watched Damiano with great concern as he continued to practically pull his hair out. Their manager just told them that they have to stay in LA for one more month. Not one more day. Not one more week. One more MONTH. Måneskin was supposed to leave in three days back to Italy, but the plan changed. This news added the fuel to the fire that was already actively burning. And that was enough for Damiano finally explode. The rest of the band barely stopped Damiano from nearly ripping the manager's head right of off his shoulders. Don't get him wrong. Damiano loved this tour and he loves his band more than anything. But he was supposed to finally go back in your arms and he was pretty sure that he never wanted to leave them, but his plans and hopes were now officially crushed, burned to the ground.

"Questo è tutto! Me ne sto andando! Non mi interessa nemmeno più questo. Voglio solo vederla per almeno un giorno." ["That's it! I'm leaving! I don't even care about this anymore. I just want to see her for at least a day."] He yelled out and Vic jumped up to her feet before she gave him a bone crushing hug. "Non posso più farlo, cazzo." ["I can't fucking do this anymore."] Damiano whispered as he gripped on Vic's hair. Victoria let her hand run down his back as she hugged him tightly. It painted her to see one of her best friends in this state. Suddenly, she let go of her, gripped Damiano's shoulders as she started to yell, too.

"Che cazzo stai aspettando?! Vai a trovarla per un giorno e dille che ci siamo salutati!" ["What the fuck are you waiting for?! Go and see her for a day and tell her that we said hello!"] Damiano looked at her in shock as Thomas and Ethan joined them, nodding.

"Sì! Amico, smettila di deprimerti e vai dalla tua signora." ["Yeah! Dude, stop moping around and go see your lady."] Thomas said. Thomas' confirmation along with Victoria's and Ethan's nodding was enough for Damiano to turn the entire hotel room upside down.

He pulled out his suitcase out of nowhere and started to pack. He was moving so fast and so much that the rest of the band thought that he's going to give them a headache. The point is, he didn't care what he put in in his suitcase. He packed just a few essential stuff, anyways. His mind was already with her, back in Italy, and it was the only thing that was important to him. It was safe to say that he was in and out before anyone could say anything else. And so, with one group hug and quickly exchanged "good bye"s and "have a safe flight"s, Damiano was off.

Practically running down the hall so he could get to the elevator and out of the hotel. He ran out on the busy street of LA and somehow managed to get a cab very quickly. He was extremely excited and kind of nervous. Damiano figured that he simply couldn't wait to get to the airport. The moment that the cab stopped, Damiano practically threw the cash at the driver and ran inside the airport, his suitcase stumbling behind him. Once he finally got into his flight he slumped down on his seat. He just couldn't wait do be home. And the waiting really paid off.

Damiano felt like his heart was going to burst its way out of his chest as he took a look at the building of your shared apartment. The flight was too long and he was just happy to be back. He knocked on the door after he went up the stairs and he was suddenly face to face with your sleepy eyes and your bright smile when you saw who was knocking on the door. Before any of you could get a word out you brought one another into a bone crushing hug. You started to cry in each other's embrace. You missed the way his arms were wrapped around you, you missed the way he always sounded so breathless when he joyfully laughed, you missed the way his eyes were shining, you missed him. He missed the way you smelled like the sweetest candy the way your eyes stared deep into his soul, he missed the feeling of your skin, he missed the beating of your heart. He missed you, too.

"You're home." You let out a soft sob as you hid your face in his shoulder, gripping on him tightly. You felt his arms tighten around you, too afraid to let you go, too afraid that either of you is going to dissappear.

"I am home. At last."

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TAGLIST

@opal-rugger

JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE!!

[bearimba]

Kris (Pokemon Crystal/HGSS) Character Headcanons

And last but certainly not least, it's time for the third of the New Bark Town kids, Kris! (just to be clear btw, I kidnapped her from Crystal (the game) and threw her into HGSS because she deserves love too)

Anyways, here's my list of headcanons for her:

Her name is actually Crystal, she just goes by Kris because she likes it better (she spells it with a K because when they were kids, Ethan said it was "cooler" and she thought it was amusing so it stuck)

Her pokemon are Furret, Dunsparce, Slowpoke, and Tauros.

She's friends (tired older sibling vibes) with Ethan and Lyra, but because of her position as one of Elm's research assistants, she doesn't get to hang out with them nearly as much as they do with each other.

She's four years older than Lyra and Ethan more or less, making her about 20 by the time HGSS rolls around.

She's super chill most of the time but can be incredibly dry and sarcastic and sometimes brutally honest. Despite this she's genuinely and openly supportive of her loved ones a lot and would probably kill for them. Unfortunately for them, she's also not afraid to turn her fury on them too if necessary. Sometimes tough love is valid if your friends are risking their lives by being idiots :D

She's already been on her own journey when she was around 13-14, during which she managed to get most of the badges and dominated the Battle Tower (which has expanded into the Battle Frontier by the time HGSS rolls around. She likes to visit from time to time when she needs to blow off steam). She probably could've gotten all of the badges if she hadn't gotten bored of travelling.

She likes to battle “just for fun”

She takes over the lab from Elm, though it doesn't happen until he's basically forced to retire (the man loves his work, ok?). He still hangs around though especially since his home is literally on the second floor.

“oh haha looks like I won (again)! great battle tho :D don’t worry maybe you’ll get it next time <3 btw here's a comprehensive list of everything you could've done better” meanwhile the opponent’s team is absolutely decimated. dust in the wind. reduced to scorch marks on the ground

Where Lyra depends more on flexibility and Ethan just kinda does whatever during battles, Kris uses a lot more strategy. She's able to come up with plans on how to defeat an opponent team even if she's never seen their team before thanks to her extensive knowledge of pokemon. However! if her plans happen to get knocked off track, it's much easier to overpower her team.

She also specializes in evolution, but instead of focusing on breeding like he did, she's more interested in requirement-based evolution (like why some pokemon will remain in their first stage of evolution despite being old enough/having the experience to evolve. or why some pokemon need certain items to evolve. or why some pokemon evolve with trading. stuff like that. it's definitely a wide field but she enjoys the variety a lot).

She has this habit of flicking people's heads if she's annoyed with them. Light flick? she's being lighthearted. Painful flick? she's actually upset. Oftentimes she'll flick herself if she's particularly stumped on something, usually to do with her research.

She owns a bicycle her parents bought from Goldenrod and takes it absolutely everywhere---girl could probably ride across the entire region if she wanted to.

Her pokegear is horrendously outdated, and the screen is so cracked it's a miracle it still works. Regardless, she refuses to get a new one because "it turns on just fine."

She typically just wears whatever clothes are comfortable/convenient. She also mends all her clothing until it's unsalvageable and she's even made a couple pieces herself. For example, her white jacket is just a lab coat she cut short and upgraded. She tried to teach her friends but Ethan would start loudly complaining about being bored after two seconds and Lyra couldn't sit still long enough to learn anything past basic mending. Silver is the only one she's had any luck with, but even then it's far from his favorite activity (they'll still save their sewing projects until they can meet up and gossip together).

She has the worst handwriting known to mankind, but she still insists on scribbling everything down herself. It's like a rite of passage for every new researcher to try and decipher her notes well enough to transpose them into the lab's computer system.

Her love language is sending pictures to her friends. except. most of the time it'll be motion-blurred pics of random pokemon or the world's most incomprehensible memes

[warwickroyals]

okay, so when i was 5 - 6 years old there was a boy in my class who asked all the girls to wear dresses so he could take them out on "a date". no shade to this kid, he was a nice boy, but it's amusing to think about it as an adult. I still remember telling my mom to make sure i wore a dress the next day as we walked home from school. talk about forced heteronormativity. that's where Margaux's Ethan L. story comes from.

beginning - previous - next

[RADIO] That being said, it is very uncharacteristic for members of the royal family to even hint

 at any political biases. They are taught to uphold a veneer of political disinterest. Ironically enough, King Nicholas established this unofficial rule during the 1920s and 30s.

[RADI] The idea was that royalty was above the partisan battleground of politics. We have to remember,

 King Nicholas’s reign saw the rise of socialism and fascism during the prelude to the Second World

War. So, it will be interesting to see if the Prince of Danforth continues to defy his namesake

[MARGAUX-GRACE] This is BORING! I demand you play music right this second! Music, MUSIC!

[NICHOLAS] Alright, alright. I’m playing your stupid music. Stop kicking my seat, please.

[MARGAUX-GRACE] Sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to. [NICHOLAS] Sure, you didn’t. [MARGAUX-GRACE] I didn’t! I’m just oh-so-very ex-cit-a-ble today.

[NICHOLAS] Why? is it March break at your school as well?

[MARGAUX-GRACE] How did you know?

[NICHOLAS]  Lucky guess.

[MARGAUX-GRACE] [GIGGLES] I can’t believe you knew! Daddy would’ve forgot.

[NICHOLAS] Yeah, that’s the difference between me and him, isn’t it, M.G.? He forgets and I don’t.

[MARGAUX-GRACE] Well . . . Daddy is taller than you. And stronger. And he’s blond. And you don’t have freckles.

[NICHOLAS] Mhm, we’re not very fraternal

[MARGAUX-GRACE] Fee-turn-ell. What’s that mean?

[NICHOLAS] It means brotherly; don’t worry about it. You have anything fun going on next week?

[MARGAUX-GRACE] Yeah! Mom’s gonna take me to the beach and the science centre and to go shopping with Leigh.

[NICHOLAS] Fun.

[MARGAUX-GRACE] And I’m going to Ethan L’s birthday party. And all the girls have to wear dresses. It’s like going on a date, that’s what he said.

[NICHOLAS] What do you know about going on a date? You’re six years old.

[MARGAUX-GRACE] When you go on a date, you have to dress fancy and wear lipstick and get your nails painted.

[NICHOLAS] [CHUCKLES] That’s part of it, I guess.

[MARGAUX-GRACE] You’ve never been on a date either, what do you know?

[NICHOLAS] Margaux, don’t insult me, I’ve been on a date before.

[MARGAUX-GRACE] Oh, yeah, with who?

[NICHOLAS] With no one important.

[MARGAUX-GRACE] D’you have a lady friend? Leigh’s big brother has a lady friend.

[NICHOLAS] This conversation is over. I’m not discussing any of this with—

[MARGAUX-GRACE] I know that I’m six pree-size-lee but I’ma big six.

[NICHOLAS] You can’t even pronounce precisely correctly.

[MARGAUX-GRACE] Maybe you should wear different clothes. Or make sure your old ones are good still. Like my bestest shiny shoes. They got old and no-so-shiny, so I gotta lick ‘em a tiny bit, but only don’t tell Granny. She got mad last time.

[NICHOLAS] You licked—Margaux, you’re something else.

[MARGAUX-GRACE] Am I a good thing or a bad thing?

[NICHOLAS] [LAUGHS] I’m still trying to figure that one out.

[the-stray-storyteller]

Defenders : Chapter 5

Warning: Bullying, and being unhappy with the way you look (I can't fricking remember the word), slight language

Chapter 1 Chapter 4 Chapter 6

______________________________________________________________

1 Week 

Location : Middle Village, Queens

Ivy let out an annoyed groan when nothing came out of the foundation bottle no matter how much she squeezed it. She still had to cover up the ghastly amount of freckles on her arms. She looked into the bathroom mirror, a sigh escaping her body. Even after a couple of months of learning how to wear foundation the twelve-year-old still couldn’t get it right. She wasn’t sure if it was the shade of the foundation, the brand or just her skill; she couldn’t get it to look right on her skin. She threw the empty bottle into the dustbin and walked out of the bathroom.

“Hey, at least there was enough in the bottle to cover up my face,” she mumbled, pulling out the first full-sleeved baggy shirt she could find in her closet, “ I can’t exactly cover my face with clothing now can I?” She grabbed her school bag and walked down the stairs. She let her eyes trail the frames on the wall. PhD certificates belonging to both her mom and dad, photos, drawings she made when she was three and every single blue ribbon she won. Ivy let her eyes linger on a picture of her mom for a few seconds, tracing her happy smile and chasing the memory behind the image. She could smell the tang of citrus fruit coming from the kitchen.

 Her eyes strayed to the newspaper on the dining table, she didn’t bother to read it.

“Mornin’ dad.” Ivy let out a small smile, watching her dad pour her a glass of freshly made orange juice. Her dad looked up and his smile lasted only a couple of seconds. The corners of his mouth turned down into a frown when he noticed that she had covered up her freckles. Ethan Lynn was quick to hide the frown disguising it with a smile and pushing his thick glasses up his nose . Ivy made herself a bowl of cereal, shoving spoonfuls into her mouth. She chugged down the orange juice, pushed her glasses up her nose and took a deep breath forcing herself out of the door.

 She waited for her school bus, fingers fiddling with the straps on her bag. Her hair fell in front of her face, she didn’t push it away. The morning was cold, with only a couple of streams of sunlight passing through the clouds. The bus was crowded. Most people weren’t awake yet and had slept off with their heads against the window. The boy beside Ivy was reading an article on his phone about the Enhanced, the mutated super-powered human beings. The title ‘Should They Be Contained?’ was staring at her in bold letters. Ivy craned her neck slightly to see more of what was written. With a lot of difficulties, she caught a couple of words like dangerous, unpredictable and power hungry before the boy switched to youtube.

That's when the bus stopped and she climbed in. Ivy would never forget that day. The girl’s footsteps were unnervingly silent. Her shoulders squared and dark eyes scanned everybody. The students turned away from her gaze. Everyone shifted awkwardly making sure there was no place left on their seats. Jealousy twisted in Ivy’s chest. It wasn’t fair that this girl was so confident on her first day. 

“Are you a boy?” Someone’s mocking shout reached her ears. The girl’s short pudding-coloured hair was misleading. She turned her head towards the sound. Ivy waited eagerly for some sort of anger or insult to flash across her face but nothing came. 

“No. I identify as a female.” Her voice was flat. The jealousy turned to spite.

Ivy stared at the girl searching for any sort of emotion. Her face was unreadable like a rock. The type of unreadable that reminded Ivy of Captain Ray Holt from Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Ivy stared a little too long, the girl had made her way to Ivy’s seat and Ivy had forgotten that the seat next to hers was empty. She sat down. Ivy turned her head towards the window trying her best to ignore her.

“Hello.” The same flat voice, Ivy wondered who she was talking to. She felt a tap on her shoulder.  

The girl was talking to her. Shit.

“Hello,” she repeated this time waving stiffly.

“Hi. Ivy Lynn.” Ivy turned back to the window not wanting to continue the conversation any further. The girl however did not take the hint and continued to speak. She had started talking about the reviews the school had gotten. Her sentences were short and cut to the point. Ivy listened and nodded out of politeness. A head turned back from the seat in front of her. The boy’s smile was lopsided and Ivy shrunk into her seat knowing what would happen now.

“Don’t waste your time on her, idiot can’t spell things properly and probably can’t understand you either.” Ivy felt the cold laugh of his peers sink into her. The girl was probably judging her now. Ivy imagined her cold eyes glinting with amusement and a laugh starting to bubble at the base of her throat. She put her head down feeling her heartbeat start to increase and the walls starting to cave in. Ivy swallowed hard trying to prepare herself for the inevitable mockery.

“Hello, what is your name?” Ivy’s head snapped up at the polite greeting.

“Liam Quinn, yours?”

“Ren Weiting.” The way she had said her name sounded like her tongue was foreign to the syllables. Her last and first names didn’t match in Ivy’s head properly. Liam hummed in thought.

“Why don’t you sit with us, Ren?” He pointed at the free seat next to him.

“The bus driver told me not to get up while we were moving.”

“It really doesn't matter. Bus is moving slower than a snail anyways.”

“I would rather not get into trouble.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged but continued to talk with her. Ivy sank into her seat again, happy to be ignored. Occasionally she would eavesdrop on their conversation. A very one-sided conversation led by Liam. But the girl talked enough for Ivy to find out she was older than the ten-year-old by two years and she had been homeschooled. Liam kept talking non-stop and if Ivy didn’t know any better Ren seemed a bit lost. When the bus stopped she quickly ran away, hiding in the crowd of students.

English had Ivy in tears. The first problem was the substitute teacher’s handwriting, she was not used to it. When she finally managed to read all the topics the teacher came and scolded her for wasting time. Now her page was covered in scratch marks and illegible handwriting making Ivy think that a chicken with ink-covered feet had danced all over her page. She angrily scratched out another word she believed that she had spelt wrong. The frustration sent her mind into a volatile state. Her fingers rapped on the table earning annoyed looks from the people sitting next to her. She bit the inside of her cheek, feeling the skin peel off slightly. Ivy could feel the teacher’s disapproving stare at her, she could feel the teacher ready to get up and yell at her once again this time louder. Ivy looked over the rim glasses, the teacher's shape blurry to her eyes. She could barely make out the teacher slowly getting up from her seat even so she could feel the searing touch of her livid gaze on her skin. Ivy bolted up before the teacher could open her mouth.

“Washroom!” It came out quickly and louder than she had expected.

“May I use the washroom?” She tried again, going for a slower and gentler tone. The teacher raised an eyebrow, keeping Ivy waiting for an answer. Ivy felt her body relax when the teacher pulled out a hall pass from her desk. She covered her sheet making sure no one could peek in and see her messy work and made her way to receive the hall pass.

She splashed the cold water on her face, silently wondering which stall she would hide in. Ivy didn’t usually try to avoid school like this most of the time she did her best. Today however was just a bad day. First, her foundation had gotten over. Then someone spilled water all over her. After that, a student had borrowed her homework to copy it and never gave it back so she could submit it. Now that thief was nowhere to be found and her teacher was angry at her. She splashed her face once again and looked down into the sink only to see peach-coloured water run down the drain.

“Didn’t I buy a waterproof foundation?” She muttered. Ivy put her glasses back on and looked in the mirror. The foundation was now patchier than before and her hair was all over the place. 

“Which asshole said redheads look good?” Ivy patted her frizzy nest-like hair down with water trying to tame it as much as possible.

“Beauty is both an opinion and a relative term.” Ivy heard a scream, it might have been her own. It was probably her own seeing that no one else was over here. Her head whipped towards one of the closed stalls. How long had that door been closed again?

“Who’s there?” Ivy heard a latch come undone and Ren stepped out from the stall.

“How long have you been there?”

“About twenty-five minutes,” the girl took small steps towards her, “I don’t like Liam.” Her sentences were short and honest. Ivy didn’t know much about her. She didn’t know what Liam had done to make an enemy. However, she did know that no girl who spent twenty-five minutes in the school’s bathroom was okay. Ivy walked to the corner and sunk down to the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest. The silence was uncomfortable. Ivy could hear water dripping from a leaky tap. The bathroom had a distant smell of tobacco. Ren stood still observing her silently. Ivy had first labelled her stillness as overconfidence but now there was something tense about it. Something that seemed to push against the thick atmosphere. Her stillness was not poise, it was obliviousness and confusion. Ivy bit her cheek trying to push back a glad smile. This girl was most likely just as much as nervous as herself. Ivy patted the floor on her side. Ren sat down, the cowlicks in her hair flattening against the wall.

“I am not stupid, just so you know.” Ivy started she didn’t want the girl to think anything else. She would have to explain her condition to her.

“I know, you wouldn’t be in high school if you were. I have observed that Liam Quinn tends to take the vaguest understanding of a concept and derive a false conclusion from it. Is it a learning disability?” Ivy kept completely still processing the way Ren talked.

“Mild dyslexia.” Ren hummed in response. Ivy waited for her to say something, waiting for her to start a conversation. Ren kept her mouth shut. Ivy concluded that she would have to do it. She went through her memories trying to grasp any information about Ren on which she could start a conversation. Ren was homeschooled, wasn’t she?

“What do you think of school?”

“One observation will leave space for errors and won’t give an accurate reading.” Ivy suppressed another smile, this girl was a weirdo like her.

“I suppose it does not,” Ivy wracked her brains for something else, “Okay why are you in the bathroom?” Ivy wanted to take the words back, they were a little too straightforward. 

“I don’t know what to do.” A straightforward answer to a straightforward question.

“Good idea coming to the bathrooms then. It's a good escape.” Ivy turned her head towards the younger and found Ren staring at her. Ren brought up her hand and pushed Ivy’s glasses up her nose. Ivy touched her glasses gently, not sure how to respond to the gesture.

“Thanks. I guess?”

Ivy tried again for a conversation, taking note of how she was the one who had to keep it going. She observed how Ren would only talk when she was questioned. She would always give short answers, to the point and never deviating from the topic. Just like her answers Ivy needed to ask specific questions. Ivy really couldn’t tell how much Ren liked her but she was starting to like the ten-year-old. 

They talked for what seemed like forever. They talked in the school’s bathroom, sitting on the floor with their backs against the wall. They missed several periods and the sound of the school bell. Ren let out smiles at Ivy’s jokes. Ivy showed polite yet genuine laughs at Ren’s slightly stiff ones. They stopped when a girl in her senior year stepped into the bathroom. Her mouth curled up in disgust at the sight of the two girls. Her eyes traced Ivy’s figure eyeing her full-sleeved dress. “Aren’t you a little too fat for that?” She pointed at Ivy. Behind her, the students rushing towards the cafeteria could be heard. Ivy got ready to walk away but Ren spoke up.

“Why did you get reprimanded for ‘vulgar actions’ by my science teacher in the corridor?” The girl opened and closed her mouth, unable to answer the question. Ren on the other hand asked it as if it were a perfectly innocent question. Ivy snorted, immediately clasping a hand over her mouth. Ren’s stomach growled loudly and Ivy used it as an excuse. “I think we need to get to the cafeteria before they are left with only scraps.” She grabbed Ren and pulled her out of the washroom.

The moment they stepped out, they were pulled towards the cafeteria by the sea of students. Ivy heard Ren’s stomach growl loudly again. Ivy let out a small laugh.

“Didn’t take you for a person with such an appetite.” Ren was petite for her age. She looked even smaller in that oversized team jacket she was wearing, the name Aloisi printed on the back. The thing was old and worn out. Ivy wondered who it belonged to. 

“Didn’t eat breakfast today.”

“What? Why?”

“I was in a hurry.”

“Okay let's go get you some lunch then.” She looped her arms through the younger’s and dragged her awkwardly to lunch.

Ivy closed the door to her house with her foot. Her feet brushed against the soft carpet. The smell of the flowers she had planted outside lingered in the hallway. She heard the crunch of the newspaper from inside. Her dad had stayed home today. 

“You home gardener?”

“Ye!” Ivy yelled back smiling at her nickname. She rushed into the living room and wrapped her hands around her dad, locking him in a hug.

“Do you mind getting some tomatoes from the garden? I was thinking we could have soup for dinner.”

“Of course.”

The garden was a familiar place to her. The feel of the damp soil on her hands, the touch of the afternoon sun on her neck and the smell of fertiliser. Her mom had helped her make it and her mom used to help in keeping it in top condition. The backyard garden was her safe place. Repotting plants and watering the roots always calmed her nerves. She knelt near the tomatoes and brought her hand up to one. Ivy frowned. She could see green and orange patches and they weren’t nearly as big as she wanted them to be. Ivy liked to wait for her plants to grow by themselves but she also wanted to have her dad’s famous tomato soup for dinner. Maybe bring some for Ren the next day. 

Ivy pressed her hand down into the soil, letting her fingers slip into it and closed her eyes. She let the world fade away and she felt the energy of the plant flowing up her fingers like a little stream of water. She spoke to it softly under her breath asking the tomatoes to grow. When she opened her eyes the unripe tomatoes had turned plump and red. The plants had grown half a foot taller and the grass around her feet had become wilder.

[afterschool-labyrinth]

Main Character tropes

General

Audience Surrogate: Take turns serving as the relatable viewpoint of the audience as they try to make sense of the world they're now in.

Forced Transformation: Are changed into bizarre monsters after entering Dimension Arc, some less humanoid than others.

Kid Heroes: Are aged 7-12.

Monster Adventurers: The kids essentially become these after their Forced Transformation.

Trapped in Another World: They are trapped in an alternate dimension via a ritual that transported them there.

True Companions: Throughout the fic, they are shown to genuinely care about one another.

Alix Umberleigh

Action Girl: She has a little bit of this as things take a turn for the worst, as she survives a few dangerous scenarios with just quick reactions and her wits.

Badass Adorable: Taking on the dangers of Dimension Arc, being only 9, and so cute? She's definitely this.

Badass Normal: She is a little girl with no magical powers or special training struggling to get herself and her friends out of a supernatural dimension, and she succeeds.

Blue Is Heroic: She has blue clothing under her jacket, is blue as a monster, and she's The Heroine.

Kid Hero: She's only 9 years old, and she is the protagonist.

Dolly Young

Annoying Younger Sibling: Ethan finds some of her behavior annoying or reckless, and Dolly often shows disrespect toward his wishes. However, just as often Ethan's annoyance is portrayed as unjustified, being less of a fault of Dolly's and more because he's a bit uptight.

Cheerful Child: She's so cheerful that nothing really brings her down.

Children Are Innocent: The worst thing she does throughout the entire story is sneak into a middle school at night in the beginning.

Cloudcuckoolander: She's a bit of an oddball, but she is just a little kid.

Creepy Doll: Becomes a rare Creepy Good example.

Determinator: Nothing ever seems to wear her down. If she's set on something, she'll go for it.

Fearless Fool: Dolly's innocence and optimism prevent her realizing any danger she's in.

Foolish Sibling, Responsible Sibling: She's very much the foolish kind, but her foolish behavior makes things better as often as they make things worse, either through total luck or because her ideas are better than they seem.

Gleeful and Grumpy Pairing: The eternally optimistic and determined Gleeful to Ethan's Grumpy.

Meaningful Name: Her name is Dolly and she becomes a living doll.

Nice Girl: Dolly is a lot more chipper and kindhearted than her older cousin.

Oblivious Younger Sibling: Dolly doesn't seem to notice Ethan's aloofness towards her, mostly because she's only 7.

Ethan McCrae

Character Development: As the plot progresses, he finds some self-esteem, learns not to avoid his problems and begins to show a sense of responsibility for his cousin.

Classical Anti-Hero: Ethan starts off as cowardly, reserved, and weak willed. He gets better.

Deadpan Snarker: Has these moments.

Gleeful and Grumpy Pairing: The anxious Grumpy to Dolly's Gleeful.

Jerkass Has a Point: While not really a Jerkass so much as just an insecure Jerk with a Heart of Gold, Ethan can be pretty impatient with Dolly, his innocent younger cousin. However, his annoyance with Dolly's carefree attitude is justified. After all, not only are they completely lost in Dimension Arc, but Ethan is essentially tasked with a big responsibility as the older relative.

It's also honestly hard to blame Ethan's anxiety during their adventure. He and his cousin are sent with others into a strange world with stranger bodies, both of which that they have little understanding of, after all.

Jerk with a Heart of Gold: Ethan's a good guy, but he starts out as aloof to Dolly when he feels frustrated. However, he grows to truly appreciate his little cousin.

Nervous Wreck: He's mostly anxious and uncomfortable for the greater part of the fic - in Dimension Arc, sometimes he actually has reason to be.

Sibling Yin-Yang: Ethan is awkward, insecure, and worrisome, while Dolly is optimistic, cheerful, and confident.

Took a Level in Badass: Part of his Character Development.

Took a Level in Kindness: Over their journey, Ethan comes to care about Dolly and becomes less awkward.

Shawn Campbell

Deadpan Snarker: Almost always has some comment to make about the latest antics going on around them.

Fiery Redhead: He has an outspoken attitude and red hair.

Jerk with a Heart of Gold: He's snarky, uptight, and blunt especially in regards to Sammy. However, he eventually learns to loosen up.

Super-Hearing: Justified as he gains an ear for a head.

Super-Scream: Accidentally discovers he has this power while delivering a Big "SHUT UP!" to Sammy.

Yellow Sash of Power: Is the school's current hall monitor.

Gale and Manny Bondar

Byronic Hero: Manny is melancholic, sullen, attractive, sensitive and surprisingly cunning.

Brilliant, but Lazy: Manny's pretty good at building things and figuring stuff out, but he only uses that to amuse himself.

Character Development: Manny starts off as Brilliant, but Lazy kid, but the group's harrowing adventures make him put his intelligence to better use.

Deadpan Snarker: In frustration, Gale lets out snide remarks about Manny's laziness. Manny's not too extreme, but he also has a few snarky comments.

Delinquent Hair: Manny dyed a red streak on his bangs after his and Gale's parents' divorce.

Dye Hard: In-Universe. Manny dyed his bangs red. It also serves to foreshadow what his Forced Transformation looks like.

Hidden Depths: Sure, Manny's a typical juvenile delinquent, but he's much smarter and kindhearted than others believe.

Monstrous Humanoid: Both twins are turned into these.

Nonconformist Dyed Hair: Manny's a rebellious kid who's dyed a streak of red on his bangs.

Polar Opposite Twins: Gale is an athletic Plucky Girl while Manny is more brooding.

Red Is Heroic: Manny in his monster form.

Tag Team Twins: They find themselves having to truly work together in order to help the group progress.

Sammy Morris

Class Clown: The resident jokester of his class.

Invisible Monster: Basically becomes this, his current location only marked by his mask-like face. He can only be fully visible in shadowy places such as the Darkrooms.

Plucky Comic Relief: The main comic relief. Makes sense since he's the Class Clown.

Wynn Sullivan

Character Tics: Tilting her head to one side.

Cloudcuckoolander: She tends to space out a lot. She also has a liking to things others would consider odd or strange.

The Quiet One: She doesn't usually talk much.

Shrinking Violet: She’s a bit nervy and quiet.

Stomach of Holding: As a serpentine monster, she can store things in her stomach. It comes in handy, given that the kids have nothing else in which to carry the items they find.

[utterlyinevitable]

Queeeeen, are you taking requests?

If you are, can you please write a fic from Alan's pov where Ethan talks about MC?

(Not in book 3 pls, I want to forget that monstrosity 🤢)

Just Ethan not realising that he's talking about her non-stop and Alan teasing the crap out of him hehe.

(If you have a slightly different idea, go for it!!! Anything and everything you write always has me- 🤩🤩)

Have a great day, queen ❤❤❤❤

After

Pairing: Ethan x F!MC (Becca) Rating: PG-13 Warnings: implied trauma Summary: Alan makes his way to comfort Ethan after hearing about the assassination attempt.  Tropes: Hurt/Comfort; 2.11

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I outlined this piece as part of my 2.11 / Leakage sequel mini series that I never finished. It’s a bit different that what you’re after, but thank you for the motivation 💕💞💕

_______________

Just Two People: I. After. 

10 hours. It’s been ten hours since the worst 24 hours of his life. Ten hours since they declared the antidote successful. Ten hours since she was moved to a private room on the Diagnostics wing, ten feet away from the office. 

It’s been three hours since he returned to the hospital. Naveen and the rest of the team forced him home, to sleep and eat and change into a fresh pair of clothing that weren’t drenched in stricken sweat. 90 minutes - that’s how long he was gone for. That’s as long as his body and mind and soul would let him be away from her. 

Even now, ten feet away and separated by two walls and a corridor seems much too much. 

He knew he shouldn’t spend every waking moment at her side, no matter how much his body was willing him to do just that. There was no reason to, not anymore now that she’s cured. He can’t hide under the guise of monitoring her vitals anymore, the nurses have that covered. And anyway, he doesn’t want to fuel the whirling gossip mill any further. 

So Ethan Ramsey sits at his desk, alone in the dimming daylight. An untouched glass of water in front of him and his heavy gaze stuck on the back of the caseless iPhone in his hands. 

Would it be too much to text her? 

It’s been 122 minutes since he last saw her - departed with an “If you need anything, text me” mumbled into her hairline on top of a chaste kiss. 

It’s been two hours and two minutes of radio silence. 

He’s worried, irrationally so. Shifting in his chair Ethan’s legs begin to jitter, start to lift his body up. But before he could convince herself he’s just going to walk past her room on his way to the restroom, there’s a knock on his ajar door. 

“Dad? What’re you doing here?” 

“I saw the news,” Alan says with the most sullen expression. 

Alan Ramsey looks like he always does, dressed in jeans though his cardigan has been replaced with a ratty old hoodie Ethan’s only ever seen him wear in the house. The young father steps into the darkening office with wrinkles showing years of worry; the slope of his expression feels as if his own flesh and blood were the one on the brink of death mere hours ago. 

“I needed to make sure you were alright.” 

“You could have called.”  

“I did,” a small smile tugs at Alan’s lips. Even in times of hardship his son is still everso the same. “Six times. Left some text messages too.” 

The boy hangs his head, deep oceanic eyes darting back to the abandoned phone. “Sorry,” he mutters. 

“Don’t be. You’ve had an eventful few days.” Alan moves gingerly and determinedly to perch on the edge of the closest chair in front of his son. “How is she?” 

Ethan just shrugs. “Physically, looks like a full recovery. Mentally, too soon to tell. Dr. Hirata has a counselor scheduled to meet with her tomorrow.” 

“How are you?” 

“I’m…”

From this close Alan could see every flicker of pain Ethan has been harboring. His clear, curious blue eyes were the darkest he’s ever seen them, bordering on limitless midnight if it wasn’t for the faint red surrounding them. There are wrinkles in his pressed shirt and deep circles under his eyes. And the way he sits slumped in his chair and not with the perfect posture he’s been lecturing his father about for the better part of their lives, Alan knew he was right to come. Knew that now was one of those rare times where his son would accept the doting of his single parent. 

While Ethan was still searching for the words, Alan rounded the desk to place a hand on his slumped shoulder. 

“Ethan, son, you don’t need to hide.” 

Easier said than done, Ethan would think on any other day. But not today. 

“It was the worst days of my life,” he says it so effortlessly on the breath of a dying man. “I - I thought I lost her, Dad.” 

Two sets of the same blue eyes meet, both aged and one much too soon. 

“But you didn’t.” 

“I know.” 

Even now, with the understanding between them too great and effortlessly easy to grab onto, Ethan wouldn't admit to the one truth. Wouldn’t concede to the last argument they had just mere weeks ago. Ethan Ramsey wouldn’t admit it, but he finally knew how and why his dad was holding onto love all this time. If Ethan had lost Rebecca he knew he’d never be open to the notion again. He belonged to her. 

Ethan didn’t have to say it for Alan to read the words shouting from his features. 

Alan gives Ethan’s shoulder an assuring squeeze. “Have you told her?” he asks with a compassionate smile. 

The deep breath Ethan takes and the way his eyes close, then dart to the door on their reopening, has Alan’s heart dropping. 

But then, his son surprises him for the umpteenth time. 

“Yes.” 

The word is small and hoarse, and heavy with something neither man has heard from in a long time. 

Alan steps away and lets the feeling linger for a bit. He knows he shouldn’t push or move too fast, knows that if he does he could scare this vulnerable side of his son back into hiding. So they let the hopefulness surround them. They let the light of a new beginning flicker on as Boston settles into evening outside. 

When neither of them move to speak, or even move from the stances, Alan decides to take care; “I was planning on making you dinner - What would you prefer?”  

Ethan shakes his head, moving to stand. “You don’t have to. You need to get back.”  

The two men are as face-to-face as they can get with the younger being nearly a foot taller. Alan can see his son fully now. Can see how his shirt is barely tucked into trousers that don’t match and he’s wearing casual loafers instead of shiny Oxfords.

“Ethan, you look like you’ve been hit by a bus,” Alan tries to laugh the truth off. “And anyway, I took compassionate leave for a few days. Family emergency.”

The words hit Ethan like a bus. If Alan looked closely he could see the tears fighting to emerge in his son’s eyes.   

“Dad…” 

Ethan’s Adam’s apple is bobbing with all that’s unsaid. The weight of it all pressing onto him in ways he’d never care to imagine. To think, his father frantically drove to Boston at the drop of a hat for a woman he’s met only once - barely even knows.  

Alan tries to read around the emotions as best he can. Tells his stoic, unburdensome son the truth, whether he realizes it or not. 

“Call it what you want. But if I know anything about my son, it’s that you are completely enamored with that woman and blaming yourself for the situation.”  

Alan didn’t know how right he was. 

________________________

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[writer-ish]

hopeful hearts, part two

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Brooke Spiers)

Word Count: 3,750 

Rating: E (NSFW 18+)

Summary:  During the Gala, Ethan and Brooke sneak off for a more private encounter. 

This is a more detailed version of the office scene in Chapter 17, from Ethan’s POV.

PART ONE HERE. 

once again, special thanks to: @openheartthot for providing the script that started this all ♥️

Dr. Ethan Ramsey doesn’t care.

It’s a point of pride for him. He does his job - and he does it damn well - but that chip that most people have, the one that makes them ache and burn and torment themselves over the thoughts and feelings of others—no.

That he does not have.

Which is why he finds himself unable to explain—unable to reconcile with his own perceptions of himself, why the woman beside him in this moment makes him ache and burn and torment himself, day in and day out. Why the only thing he finds himself caring about is her thoughts. Her feelings.

Why the feel of her hand in his, gripping him tightly, the trust that’s imbued in that simple gesture as they walk recklessly through the corridors of the quiet hospital, is enough to knock the breath out of his lungs.

Ethan Ramsey finds himself realizing that, for someone who had never cared, this seems to matter a whole lot.

His heart pounds a steady rhythm as they swiftly and silently approach the doors of his office. He lets them both in and then closes the door resoundly behind him.

“Here we are,” he says, hearing the gruffness in his tone and unable to utter the words any differently. “Alone at last.”

She looks up at him and, once again, breathing seems out of reach. It’s a feeling in his chest—one that he can’t explain away with logic or reason, the two tenets with which he’s structured his life.

“Any idea what we could get up to with such a rare moment of privacy?” She’s disarmingly contradictory—provocative and bashful, sincere and flirtatious. Every contradiction stirs his blood in unprecedented ways. He wants her, needs her—not just now, but always.

“I have a few,” he murmurs in response to her question, stepping forward and linking his fingers with hers, drawing her hands around his torso before leaning forward and touching her lips with his.

The kiss is softer, less performative than the one he’d given her downstairs. This one doesn’t need to prove a point to anyone other than himself. And the point he’s trying to prove is how necessary it is for him to be kissing her at this moment.

Pulling away, he takes in the sight of her. The gleaming auburn curls tumbling over her shoulders, the red dress that seized him by the chest the moment he saw her in it—she incapacitated him with her beauty. 

He’d seen her at six in the morning and eleven at night (oftentimes in the same day). He’d seen her rested and exhausted. With makeup and without. He’d seen her—

He wills away the image that appears in his mind’s eye. The one of her that’s always a little blurred around the edges — as though he’s looking at her through a transparent barrier; since, of course, that’s exactly what he’d had to do. It’s the image of her unwell. Scared. 

His heart thumps painfully as the fear returns again, an old, familiar feeling now, like a cloak that shadows his mind. The moments that he thought were numbered. Panic, the likes of which he’d never before experienced—

No. He won’t think of that now.

He forces his tone to be casual, but the depths of his emotion still seem to break through.

“I looked around and it's definitive. You were the most stunning woman in that room tonight.” The statement pales in comparison to the way he truly feels.

She dimples, pleased by his compliment even as she tries not to show it, and his heart soars.

“Are you trying to flatter me, Dr. Ramsey?” she teases.

All pretence of casualness is gone as he responds, his voice husky and low: “Is it still flattery if it's an understatement?”

Her cheeks redden and suddenly she’s even more of a vision, the rosiness of her face contrasting the colour of her hair and the hue of her dress in the most incredibly charming way.

She reaches up to caress his cheek softly and he feels himself lean slightly into her touch, unable to resist the allure of her body making contact with his.

“I’m glad you did that just now. Kissed me.” He sees her vulnerability and knows that he’s at the root of it—his damned fears and pride and sense of propriety and justice all being part of what almost ruined this for him. For them.

His public declaration - that she was his and, even more importantly, he was hers - was something they’d both needed more than either of them had realized.

“Trust me, Brooke.” He leans forward, whispering the next words. “I’m just getting started.”

Their lips meet and Ethan feels a hunger in his very soul; like he could devour her whole. A frenzied heat runs through him, his entire body thrumming with the anticipation of what’s to come. Now, now, now, are the only words his pounding heart speaks as he guides her to the first available surface: his desk.

Ethan is not a man prone to fantasy.

Even in previous relationships - more like arrangements - he’d always maintained a level-headed foundation to every encounter. The exchanges were simple at their core: the satisfaction of a mutual need. An itch to be scratched. And, once they were over, he barely gave them further consideration.

But Ethan Ramsey would be a stone-cold liar if he’d ever said that he hadn’t had a recurring, relentless daydream - and occasional night dream - of taking Dr. Brooke Spiers on top of this very desk in a multitude of imaginative, creative, and depraved ways.

And now, now at the cusp of this almost two-year fantasy coming to life, it feels as though something inside of him has truly, finally been unleashed.

Keeping his lips crushed to hers, Ethan cups Brooke’s round bottom, squeezing appreciatively before dragging his hands down the sequined fabric of her thighs until he can gain enough purchase to do what he really wants: lifting her effortlessly, he defers all her weight to one arm while using the other sweep every goddamn thing off his usually-meticulous desk. Pens and paper trays clatter to the floor as Ethan lays Brook gently across the desk, with a precise calmness he doesn’t truly feel.

She lets out a disbelieving laugh as she pulls away slightly, hands carding through his hair. “What’s gotten into you tonight?” she breathes against his lips, joy and unrestrained pleasure in her tone.

“Whatever it is,” he replies, pressing his lips to hers briefly before continuing, “I think it’s long overdue.”

“True.” She shimmies her way further up the desk, before reaching for him. “Which is why you shouldn’t keep me waiting.” Grabbing his collar, she drags him on top of her, lips colliding once more in a frenzy of taste and touch. He feels her lithe fingers give his hair a sharp tug and he groans against her mouth.

“Brooke.” He’s panting now, unable to get his heart rate under control. “I need you.” 

Leaning in once more to take her again, he’s surprised when she leans away, pressing a finger to his lips. The expression on her face stops him and he finds himself stumbling back a step as she pushes him gently and climbs off the desk.

She moves a few feet away and looks at him coyly, one eyebrow and the corner of her mouth hitched slightly upwards.

“Brooke…” She’s killing him. Does she know she’s killing him?

Probably.

“Shh…” she admonishes, lightly. “Just watch.”

Slowly she turns and Ethan drinks in every curve - from the dip in her waist to her well-rounded bottom. Reaching up, her slender fingers snag the gold zipper resting at her nape and she slowly tugs it down.

Ethan swears he can hear every excruciating millisecond of that zipper’s descent, even over the thundering pulse in his ears, as he watches it go down… down… exposing the creamy white skin of her perfect back, inch by inch.

It stops just below the small of her back, right above the cleft of her bottom, two familiar dimples taunting him. The opening of her dress has gaped over her shoulders and she looks at him one last time over her shoulder, her smile luminescent, before letting the garment fall to the floor in its entirety. Turning back around, she strikes a coy pose, one hand flipped up and the other on her cocked hip, as if to say “Well?”

He takes in her pink-tipped breasts, the perfect size for the palm of his hand. The indented waist that he can span if he so chooses. The swell of her hips, hugged in black lace. Her shapely legs, long for her height.

And the heels. That she’s still wearing.

He almost swallows his tongue.

Well, indeed.

Ethan reaches her in a single stride and pulls her towards him, cupping the nape of her neck as his lips reach hers with a soft reverence. He can feel the heat of her naked body against his, warm and electric, and he steps back only for a second to tear his own clothes off, barely considering the buttons that will need to be re-buttoned, or the obscenely expensive suit jacket that probably shouldn’t be left in a heap on the floor.

All that matters, all he can consider, is his all-consuming need to feel her body against his, unimpeded by clothing.

He tilts her jaw so that she’s looking up at him. He can’t help but be pleased to see that her breathing is irregular, too, her lower lip caught between her teeth, her nipples poking sharply into his chest. When she’s this close, he can see the flecks of green in her hazel eyes. The light smattering of freckles not entirely hidden behind her concealer.

God, he loves her.

The words come to him, unbidden yet familiar. A truth he has known for much longer than he cares to admit. He hasn’t told her yet, not really. But he hopes he’s shown her in all the ways that he’s let her in - into places no one has ever reached - and in all the ways he’s tried to care for her, to protect her, to nurture her and to guide her. And soon—

Soon, the words will come, as well.

For now, he settles for speaking another truth: “You’re so beautiful, it sometimes takes my breath away.”

It’s how he’s always felt around her; like the air has gotten a little lighter. His lungs a little shallower. He sees her and the visceral response of his body to hers feels like a sucker punch.

Every.

Damn.

Time.

Her eyes spark, a light glistening that foretells the chance of tears. They cause the irises to grow brighter, greener.

“Don’t tell me,” she says finally, swallowing hard. “Show me.”

With pleasure, he thinks, navigating her towards the desk again.

As if reading his mind, she’s already halfway there, boosting herself up and pulling him with her. She scoots back again along the smooth surface and he follows her; a predator, his lovely prey trapped between his arms.

“I mean,” she says blithely, her hair fanning around her like a crimson halo, “you did such a good job cleaning it up.”

He bites back a grin at her teasing tone and dips forward to nip at her throat.

“I was hoping you’d notice,” he murmurs against her skin.

She turns her head, guiding his face to hers, and kisses him fiercely on the lips. He responds in kind, tasting and licking at the sweet fullness of her mouth.

Keeping his lips on hers and one hand braced on the desk, he glides his other hand down her smooth skin until his fingers reach the lace of her panties. Teasingly, he plays with the little bow at the front, running his fingers lower, overtop the lace-covered mound, teasing the dampness he finds below.

She moans against his lips and he brings his hand back up, tucking it under the material, touching her skin, finding the slick heat underneath it all.

Biting back a groan, he dips his middle finger down lower, finding the wet give of her body and bringing some of that essence back to the tiny nub at the top of her entrance. Rubbing in slow, deliberate circles, he pulls back to watch her face.

Her head is thrashing lightly as she moans quietly at his touch.

“Someone’s...eager…” she pants, arching against the shiny, cool mahogany, her nipples peaked and straining towards the sky.

“I’ve been dreaming of this moment for months, Brooke,” he says, unable to resist the allure of those pink nipples, beckoning for his touch. His mouth latches onto one and he runs his tongue around the dusky areola before grazing his teeth over the distended tip. She whimpers and bucks under his hand, growing wetter at each moment that passes.

“The chance to be with you without hiding from anyone,” he continues, moving to the other nipple and giving it the same treatment, his middle finger still working her in an agonizingly slow caress.

“Now that it’s here—” He shifts the finger back down to the entrance of her body, filling her with it, unable to help the groan that escapes him as he feels her clench around him.

“—I can hardly help myself,” he ends in a strangled groan. His desperation reaches a fever pitch. All he wants is for her to feel good, to shatter around him, to be brought to the brink and over the edge because of him—

“Show me what you want.” His voice sounds hoarse, pleading, even to his own ears. “What I can do to make you feel good.”

“How about,” she breathes, a slight sheen over her heated skin, “you use—” She breaks off, blushing slightly, before persevering. “How about you use your mouth instead? I’m enjoying your dexterity but—”

She breaks off with an awkward laugh, eyes going skyward as if she can’t believe her own gall. Her face is almost the same colour as her hair and if he wasn’t so worked up he would laugh, too.

“Say no more.”

He takes his time in kissing his way down her body, marking every pale freckle and scar he finds along the way. He moves over her stomach and she giggles breathlessly at the tickle of his stubble. Further down he goes, before finally he’s kissing her over the lace of her panties, breathing in the familiar scent of the most intimate part of her. Reaching up, he pulls the underwear down and off, sending them flying in the same general direction as his clothes’ heap.

He stares down at her for a beat, pink and red and perfect all over, her pale skin marred in places by the scratch of his beard, the rosy nipples beckoning him still, the neat tuft of dark auburn curls between her legs, her trembling thighs and shaky intakes of breath. Her Titian beauty strikes him once more and it’s all he can do, not to prostrate himself between her gorgeous thighs and worship at the altar of those private curls and glistening petals.

Instead, he approaches her with what he hopes is a shred of dignity, tucking his face between her legs and kissing the part of her that he covets the most. Savouring the intimate and familiar taste of her; the taste of coming home.

He feels her fingers thread through his hair, tugging almost sharply as her hips lift underneath his chin, but he’s too immersed in his task to notice. He runs his tongue over her in a measured rhythm, slipping a hand down once more to join in his ministrations, inserting one finger and then two, as she opens easily for him.

“Ohhh.” Her loud moan from above his head is nearly his undoing and he presses a hand against himself, hard, to stay his own desires for the moment.

“I love tasting you,” he murmurs against her, crooking his fingers slightly as he presses deeper inside her.

“I love the way you do it,” she pants in response. He can feel her unravelling, can feel it in the liquid heat surrounding his hands and mouth, can feel it in the increasingly erratic movement of her body beneath his.

“I want you so badly, Brooke,” he groans and, against the vibrations of his confession, she shatters.

She lets out a shout and he holds her in place as her body trembles, gooseflesh rising under his hands and on his cheek where it rests on her thigh. His own body feels shaky, tremulous, as he waits for her to come down.

“I want you to have me, Ethan,” she says finally, her voice hoarse and low. “Now.”

He almost weeps with relief.

“I was hoping you would say that. I honestly wasn’t sure I could hold off any longer—” His gratitude gets caught in his throat as she tremulously slides off of the desk and looks at him, almost bashfully, but with that familiar coyness that he’s grown to love.

She cups his face in her hands and their eyes meet, her greenish-hazel with his electric blue.  

“Then don't.”

And then she turns and leans forward, forearms on his desk, ass propped up in front of him, those sky-high heels bringing her to the perfect level for—for—

Ethan feels the air depart his lungs in full force, his knees almost giving way underneath him. He looks at her bottom blankly, before searching her face. She’s smiling at him softly, those damn perfect teeth biting that damn bottom lip, a face perfectly designed to be the death of him. She inclines her chin slightly, as if to say: Are we doing this?

It’s all the permission he needs as he takes himself in hand and positions himself at the entrance of her body. Pushing back slightly, she accepts him immediately and easily, her back arching to take him further, deeper, as her palms flatten against the desk.

The moment he’s fully seated within her, she gasps, and that slight intake in breath is enough to almost make him come on the spot. Her gasp settles into a quiet moan as they find an easy rhythm, bodies moving together in perfect synchronicity.

“Ethan,” she says breathlessly, her fingertips pressing into the mahogany. “Harder.”

Thank Christ.

“I don’t know how much longer I can last,” he admits in a strangled tone as he feels the wholehearted pleasure of their union overwhelm him, body and soul. Never before has he felt such a connection beyond the physical. When she grasps him inside her, when he feels the clutch of her body, intimately connected to his, it’s an emotion beyond reasoning.

A hefty admission, for someone who’d structured his whole life around reason and reason alone.

But now, “reasonable” is a far cry from how he feels as he moves his hands over her body, tracing the arch of her spine, the curve of her waist, before settling there, thumbs almost touching across the span of her back as he rocks into her, his pleasure building by the second.

He groans loudly, unable to control himself. “You feel incredible, Brooke.”

She whimpers in response and he quickly checks her face to ensure she’s alright. All he sees is her flushed cheek pressed to the desk, her full lips parted in a soft, perpetual moan, the imprint of her heated palms leaving streaks on the dark, shining wood as she drags her hands to the edge of the desk and holds on tight.

His vision whites out and it’s all the warning he can give her—

“Brooke… I’m—”

“Yes, Ethan—!”

The force building inside of him erupts in a blinding flash of undulating pleasure, skyrocketing through every extremity of his body.

Brooke’s own cries echo through the empty office as he feels her body rhythmically clenching his oversensitized flesh. A wave of exhausted, satiated rapture threatens to overtake him as he braces his hands on the desk, his bare chest meeting her bare back. Once he’s certain his legs can hold him, his arms shift into an embrace, wrapping around her torso and gathering her cooling body against him.

He holds her tightly against him for a beat, before lifting her up effortlessly. Her head lolls against his shoulder as he carries her to the couch in his office. He sits first, shifting her weight in his lap, and then he lays back, bringing her back with him. As she settles herself into his chest, he finds himself kissing her hair over and over again, the feeling of total adoration threatening to spill from his chest.

They stay like that, wrapped around one another, for a moment or two when he hears her mumble something indiscernible against his shoulder. Stroking her hair back from her face, he tilts his chin down to look at her.

“Hmm?” he murmurs, wondering if his own gaze reflects the same heavy-lidded contentment that he sees in her eyes.

“I said, ‘do we have to go back’?” she repeats, her voice still a replete murmur.

He chuckles softly, kissing her head again. Go back. He knows that she’s referring to the Gala, to their friends and colleagues gathered on the first floor of the decorated hospital. But in Ethan’s mind, it’s a more involved and complicated question than that.

No, they’re not going back.

They won’t be going back to the way things were.

To secrecy and shame, to denial and frustration.

They also won’t be going back to the job they knew, in the ways that they’ve known it. Before touching his lips to hers in that public display he’d performed down there, he’d known exactly which direction the Diagnostics Team would be headed in and what that meant for him, for her, and for the nature of her relationship.

It had been a long time since Ethan had felt anything resembling superiority over Brooke and now, they would both truly be at the same level, in every way that mattered.

He smiles softly as he rubs his cheek against the top of her head, listening to her even breaths.

There still isn’t much that Dr Ethan Ramsey cares about.

But there is one thing.

And he wraps his arms around it even tighter.  

[danijimenezv]

Coercion

Prompt/Summary: Based on the lovely Christmas moodboard that @jamespotterthefirst​ made ❤

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Jillian Valentine), and a little bit of Bryce Lahela x Ivy Valentine (MC’s younger sister)

Warnings: nothing, mostly fluff. Maybe a swear word here and there, but nothing serious.

Word Count: 1722 words

A/N: I’ve never written anything for this fandom, so I’m tagging a few people that I’ve seen around the main tags. If you don’t want to be tagged if I miraculously write anything else, let me know, no hard feelings at all! As always, feedback would be very much appreciated!

“Absolutely not.”

Ethan stared horrified at the velvety monstrosity the younger Valentine was presenting him, while Lahela and Mirani stared expectantly at him. He shook his head vehemently one more time, in case his previous statement hadn’t been clear enough.

“Come on, Ethan.” Baz clasped a hand over his shoulder, “It’s not that bad.”

“Uh, it’s not bad at all!” Ivy Valentine exclaimed, fully offended.

“Yeah, how come he gets a normal sweater but I get an ugly Christmas sweater?” Bryce complained.

“Because you look good in anything.” Ivy fluttered her eyelashes at her boyfriend.

“Smooth, Valentine.” Bryce hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her to him, immediately crashing his lips against hers.

Ethan rolled his eyes at their very public display of affection, and turned back to the papers scattered all over his desk, taking advantage of the fact that they were no longer focused on bothering him.

“Doctor Mirani, was there anything you wanted to discuss about the case?” he redirected the subject of conversation.

“Not about the case.” he grinned unapologetically when Ethan narrowed his blue eyes at him, “The day is almost over anyway, there’s nothing else to discuss about it today, and you should be trying to make yourself presentable.”

“I am presentable. And I’m sure there are things still left to do here, so you should focus on that.”

“Come on, Ethan, this is huge. It’s all everyone has been talking about.”

“What?”

“Yeah, everyone knows tonight is the night.” Baz wiggled his eyebrows, “You’re having Christmas dinner with the Valentine’s, aren’t you? That’s a big step for you and Jill.”

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation, hating, now more than ever, how the hospital gossip traveled around. He never cared much for it as long as everyone did their jobs, never paid much attention to it, but now it involved him, his girlfriend and her family, and that was what made it all the more annoying.

Girlfriend. The word popped up in his mind in a fraction of second, and although it still felt sort of weird, it wasn’t unwelcomed. It had taken them quite a lot to get to exactly that point, namely most of it was his fault, but to be able to call Jillian Valentine his was something he was incredibly grateful for. The second-year resident and junior fellow of the diagnostics team had practically weaseled her way into his life, and she had made such an impact, with her coquettish charm and quick wit, that he could no longer imagine his life without her.

“Ramsey, please.” Ivy returned her attention to him, “You’re a grumpy old man, aren’t you supposed to like this kind of sweaters?”

“I’m not a grumpy old man.” he barely looked up from the paper he was reading, “And I’m still not wearing that thing.”

“I even got you a different shade of green to match your eyes better. More blueish, instead of the plain green.”

“Much appreciated.” he let out sarcastically.

“Bryce.” Ivy whined softly, asking her boyfriend for help.

“Ramsey, my man.” Bryce grinned widely, knowing exactly how to approach it, “I have it on good authority that Jillian would love it if you wear this sweater tonight.”

That made him falter. No amount of begging from the youngest Valentine would make a difference for him. Jillian, on the other hand, was another story entirely; at this point, he was sure there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

“Super true.” Ivy caught on quickly, “She has a similar one, and she’s probably going to wear it tonight.”

“It’s less than half an hour for dinner, don’t you two have to go get ready?” Ethan tried one last time to get rid of them.

“I don’t have anywhere to be right now.” Baz pointed out, causing the older doctor’s glare to direct at him.

“Not you, them.”

“We are ready.” Bryce winked confidently, gesturing to his and Ivy’s matching red ugly Christmas sweaters.

“Jesus Christ, you two are nauseating.”

“As are you and my sister.” Ivy rolled her eyes, “But you said it yourself, it’s less than half an hour for dinner, what the hell are you waiting for?”

“I’m simply waiting for Jillian, who, unlike the three of you, is still working.”

“Or she’s changing in the locker rooms.” Bryce offered, “Ivy and I finished our surgeries a while ago. Just admit it, doc; we, surgeons, are just way better than you, medical guys.”

Ethan simply scoffed, but before he could retort back, Baz spoke up, “Wrong, but that’s a debate for another day. I should go find Zaid, and you need to get going to that dinner. You can’t be late, Ethan.”

With a wide smile on his face and a last wave, Baz exited the office, humming a catchy Christmas song softly.

“Okay, enough of this, I’m done.” Ivy marched towards him and shoved the sweater in his face aggressively, “I’m Jill’s sister, and as her boyfriend you need to keep me happy, right? So wear this tonight.”

Ivy spun around on her heels and strut right out of there without a look back. Bryce shrugged, not being able to come up with an explanation for his girlfriend’s loss of patience, and quickly followed after her, leaving the diagnostician finally alone. He inspected the item of clothing closely one last time, before cursing the youngest Valentine. Time seemed to stretch as he continued to stare at the sweater, almost with offense, before he sighed in defeat and pulled it over his clothes. He was in the middle of grumbling under his breath about the damn piece of clothing he felt forced to wear, when his favorite voice resonated from the doorway.

“Hey, I’m sorry for the delay, but I’m ready now.”

He looked up in time to see Jillian halt completely and inspect him from head to toe, but before he could offer some kind of explanation, a breath-taking smile overtook her delicate features as she spotted the sweater. And just like that, all the insults and complaints that had been swirling in his head since Ivy showed it to him disappeared, because even if he wasn’t a huge fan of it, wearing that damn sweater made it all worth it if it got his Jill to smile like that.

“You got a Christmas sweater?” she asked breathily, still staring in wide-eyed wonder at him.

“No, not those awful sweatshirts your sister and her boyfriend are sporting around proudly. This barely counts as a Christmas sweater, and it’s as far as I’ll go for the holidays.”

“Good enough for me. It’s the sentiment that counts.”

Jillian walked decisively to him and threw her arms around his shoulders, standing on her tiptoes to reach better, while Ethan slouched slightly and wrapped his own arms around her waist. She giggled softly as Ethan ran his nose against hers, their foreheads pressed together and blue eyes boring into honey-colored ones.

“Did you wear it for me?”

“Most things I do are for you, Doctor Valentine.” he smiled softly at the adoring glint that sparked in her eyes, “But I was also coerced to wear it by your incredibly annoying younger sister.”

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t have to deal with Ivy as an intern, then?”

“Of course I am. She’s Harper’s problem, I already have my hands full with one Valentine on the medical team.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way.” Jill grinned, “Right?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” he leaned in and kissed her, though the moment was too short-lived for Jillian’s liking, because she whined softly when he pulled away, “Now, I believe we are expected to attend Christmas dinner with your family, so we should get going. I don’t want to be late.”

“What if we just… skipped it?” one of her hands wandered slowly down the expanse of his chest, gripping the sweater and releasing it multiple times.

“Jillian Valentine, is there a reason you don’t want me to have dinner with your family?” his voice was teasing, light-hearted, but the question had a twinge of worry underneath.

“It’s not like that.” Jillian spotted his doubt immediately, with that uncanny and unexplainable ability to pick on his thoughts as if reading his mind, “It’s just… as loving as they all are, my family is a bit complicated. My siblings are a nightmare, you would know because you’ve already met Ivy. And my parents are… intense. You’re too important for me, I don’t want them to scare you away.”

“That’s what you’ve been worrying about the whole day?” Ethan asked, placing his hands firmly on her hips and looking down at her with a stern expression on his face, “Jill, there’s nothing that could take me away from you. I thought you already knew that.”

“I know, I know, but I’ve just been overthinking about it.”

“Well, I promise you, there’s nothing in the world that can change the way I feel about you.”

“Okay.” she whispered, completely dazzled by the intensity of his words.

“Was that all?” he wanted to make sure.

“Yes, I promise. Nothing else. Definitely not any doubts about you or our relationship. I’m in for the long haul.”

“Good, because so am I.”

Jillian caressed his cheekbone delicately, “Don’t ever doubt my feelings for you, Ethan. After all, I was the one who fought for us, remember?”

“That you were.” he agreed, sighing in relief, “And I’m so very glad you did.”

“Me too.”

This time, when he kissed her, he made sure not to rush the moment. As soon as his lips came in contact with hers, they kissed passionately and urgently, like they couldn’t get enough of each other. Ethan deepened the kiss and pulled her as close as he physically could, his hands exploring the soft skin and subtle curves he already had memorized by heart. Finally, Jillian pulled apart from him, softly nibbling his lower lip before letting it go.

“Now, let’s get moving, Doctor Valentine.”

“Yes, boss.” she answered back mockingly, biting her lip to stifle her giggles.

“Jillian.” Ethan warned her.

With a heartfelt laugh, Jillian pulled away from his embrace, but entwined her fingers with his, and finally, they made their way out of the office together, ready to meet the Valentine’s for Christmas dinner.

*******************************************************************************************

Tags: @jamespotterthefirst​, @missflashgeek​, @parkerattano​, @openheart12​, @starrystarrytrouble​, @takeharryandgo​, @aestheticartsx​, @choicesfanaf​, @caseyvalentineramsey​, @utterlyinevitable​, @aworldoffandoms​, @the-pale-goddess​, @dr-ramseys-rookie​, @drariellevalentine​, @tsrookie​, @perriewinklenerdie​, @genevievemd​, @drethanramslay​, @openheartthot​, @mvalentine​, @justanotherrookie​, @lucy-268​, @paulfwesley​, @writinghereandthere​, @rookie-ramsey​, @missmiimiie​, @openheartfanfics​, @ramseyandrys​, @ruinedbypixels​

[alwaysmychoices]

Blind Date

Synopsis: Charlie Greene is finally ready to move on from Ethan Ramsey, and the first step? A blind date with someone else. When Ethan found out, he went out drinking to forget his jealousy, and in downtown Boston, all it took was a call for them to find each other again... 

Chapter 7 of the “with and without” series

Previous Series: “a weekend with dr. ramsey”

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)

Words: 7k+ (sorry it’s so long, but it’s good!)

Tag List included at the end - if you want to be added or removed, let me know!

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Charlie’s pager reverberated in her small locker, dancing as it vibrated against the metal. Charlie jumped, staring at the small device with dread, and she scrambled to reach it. Her stomach sank as her fears were confirmed.

She was needed in the diagnostic unit ASAP.

Charlie read the rolling alert again and again, waiting for it to change.

This couldn’t be.

She’d followed the plan perfectly. It was 7:45, over half an hour after she was supposed to clock out. She’d taken every necessary precaution to avoid suspicion and quietly leave work without anyone realizing where she was going. She’d checked with every patient, every attending she’d reported to today, and even the diagnostic unit itself to make sure there was nothing left for her to do.

At 7:30, she’d gone into the locker room and waited to change until the crowd emptied out. She sent her work clothes home with Sienna, and all she had to do now was covertly walk out of the hospital, call an Uber, and make it downtown before 8:30. If everything went according to plan, no one would know that she was going on a date, especially not Ethan Ramsey.

With slow horror, Charlie turned to face her reflection in the nearest mirror.

Charlie had changed from her frumpy scrubs to the tight, black dress Kyra gifted her for the occasion. It wasn’t the type of dress that Charlie usually wore, which was precisely why Kyra bought it for her. The tight, structured fabric left little to the imagination, especially with the high slit on her right thigh. It was bold and daring, and Kyra hoped that the dress’s power would encourage Charlie to be just as confident.

But now it just made Charlie squirm.

She’d already finished her grand yet quick makeover. Her day-old curls were now teased into a purposeful, sexy ponytail. With a few dabs of concealer and a layer of red lipstick, she’d erased the anxious, sleepless nights she’d wasted worrying about tonight.

She looked good. Suspiciously good. The kind of good that meant she obviously had plans tonight.

“Fuck,” Charlie cursed, checking the pager one more time. She knew she couldn’t ignore it, especially when she was still in the building. It was her job to answer.

Her fingers tight around the pager, Charlie searched her locker one more time for a hidden pair of scrubs, but she came up empty-handed. With more time, she might have been desperate enough to dig through the nearby lockers until she found something else to wear. Had she known Jackie or Sienna’s combination, she surely would have borrowed their clothes, no matter what was in there.

But she’d already taken too long.

So, with a deep breath, Charlie twisted her face into that of firm determination, and she started walking to the diagnostic team’s office. Her heels click-clacked against the linoleum floors, and if everyone wasn’t already staring, they certainly were now. Her skin burned under the attention, but she moved onward, projecting a confident air of disinterest to separate herself from the rumors.

She just needed to walk in, do whatever she was paged for, and leave.

Maybe Ethan wouldn’t even be there… He wasn’t the one who paged.

He didn’t like to listen to gossip. He might not ever find out that she was on her way to a date.

But of course, that would have been too easy.

Before she even reached the door, she saw Ethan’s absurdly tall frame bent over his desk, engrossed in a chart. The rest of the team were settled in the office, each at different points in the room. All of them would see her.

“Fuck,” she muttered for the second time.

Charlie hesitated at the door but forced herself to open it, drawing everyone’s attention as she announced her arrival, “I was paged.”

No member of the diagnostics team could remember being more shocked by Charlie than they were today. No wild diagnosis nor earth-shattering hospital gossip could compare to the wide-eyed silence they gave her.

Of course, none were more stunned than Ethan.

Once his eyes landed on her, he couldn’t tear them away. He’d seen Charlie at varying states, some more vulnerable or confident than others. He knew her worst and best. She was never more beautiful than she was peacefully asleep on his bed, but surely, this came close.

But she wasn’t made up for him.

This was for someone else.

Ethan’s jaw tightened, and the intensity of his stare forced Charlie’s eyes away from his in shame.

Not that she had anything to be ashamed of.

He hurt her and pushed her away. He could have had her. He chose not to.

She had the right to move on. She had the right to dress up and meet new people, and what she did with them was none of Ethan’s business.

So, why did she feel like she’d betrayed him?

“Damn, Charlie,” Baz was the first to speak, seemingly oblivious to Ethan’s rigid reaction, “Where are you going dressed like that?”

“Uh,” Charlie stammered. She hadn’t expected the question, and she struggled to think of an answer to deflect with, “I’m just meeting a friend.

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth. She didn’t even know who she was going to meet yet. That was the point of a blind date.

“Oh, really?” Baz didn’t take the hint and innocently pushed her further, “I’m planning on heading out tonight, too. Where are you going?”

Panic settled in Charlie’s stomach as she realized she couldn’t escape the conversation, and Ethan recognized the flush to her cheeks as she shrugged, “Some bar downtown. I don’t really remember the name.”

This time, she was lying. She knew exactly where she was going. She was just too afraid of Baz showing up to tell him.

“Those are the best nights – when you’re just running all over town with no real idea where you’re going. I’ll admit that I’m jealous, Charlie,” Baz conceded, “Why don’t you text me and we can meet up at some point? I love your friends.”

Baz meant it innocently, but Ethan watched him like a hawk, carefully dissecting every word he said just to be sure he wasn’t flirting with Charlie.

“Baz,” June sighed in exasperation, “She’s going on a date.” She couldn’t believe her colleague had been so obtuse, even though she found the whole ordeal mildly amusing. She offered Charlie a consoling smile, and Charlie weakly returned it.

Baz’s eyes went wide in shock and then understanding, and he sheepishly rubbed his neck as he apologized, “Oh… That makes sense. Sorry, Charlie.”

“It’s all good,” Charlie felt like she might throw up. This whole interaction would have been uncomfortable on its own, but with Ethan in the room, it was overwhelming.

She didn’t dare look at him after June explained the situation. She couldn’t imagine what he was thinking. Did he even care? Or was he just protective about what he’d once claimed as his own?

Ethan didn’t understand what he felt. Everything was jumbled and chaotic, flashing with bursts of jealousy and disappointment and irritation. Whatever it was rooted deep in his limbs, and it spread through his veins like wildfire. He was overwhelmed and shocked, and he felt like he was drowning as his gaze turned hard.

He couldn’t let her go to another man looking like that. He had to stop her and distract her.

She wanted to be his. She was his.

Ethan felt a profound claim over Charlie’s affection. She was his protégé, his friend, and his colleague, but she was more. She was the person who made him laugh. She was the girl who had tangled in his sheets and brandished the scent of his cologne as she paraded around his apartment in his clothes. She was his Charlie.

Only a week ago, she could have been in his bed.

But he’d said no…

He reminded himself that he was the one who pushed her away. He was always the one who pushed her away, even if he occasionally lost his strength in doing so. It was for the best that they were separated.

Still… he’d never imagined having to watch her move on.

Before he acted like an asshole and ruined her night with unnecessary work, Ethan said, “I had Baz page you to run a few tests on Mr. Johnson, but I didn’t realize you had plans. Go ahead, and enjoy your night. I’ll handle it.”

Charlie met his stare for the second time, losing whatever polite smile she’d plastered on her face to conceal her embarrassment. A small, dissatisfied frown settled on her lips as she nodded in his direction, and she swallowed her disappointment as she thanked him.

Why was she disappointed? This was what she wanted. But there was a small part of her that hoped he would stop her, that he wouldn’t let her go and that she wouldn’t have to move on. She just wanted to hold on a little bit longer.

“Thank you, Dr. Ramsey,” Charlie dropped eye contact, turning to her other coworkers to bid them goodnight. They echoed her sentiments, and Charlie wasted no time in leaving the office, walking as fast as she could without seeming too desperate to leave.

Ethan felt glued to his seat, watching as her figure disappeared down the hallway and listening for the final click-clack of her shoes. Then she was gone…

All of the air seemed to escape Ethan’s lungs, and he felt like he was choking on the weight of the realization that Charlie was lost to him. She was going to another man. She was actively trying to move on from him, if she hadn’t already. She didn’t want to stay in their confusing, volatile relationship.

And even if Ethan was the one who instigated their separation, he was devastated.

Not that he would admit it. Or show it.

Ethan stood, seemingly as stern as ever, and collected his files to begin testing his patient.

“Well… That was super embarrassing,” Baz broke the silence, leaned back in his chair as his hand washed over his face, “I never knew I was that dumb.”

“I knew,” June added, not looking up from her medical journal.

Baz shook his head, letting out a sigh as he offered, “Well, I’m still going out tonight. You interested, Hirata?”

“Thank you, but I’m afraid I’m otherwise engaged,” June declined.

Baz didn’t seem too concerned with rejection, and preparing for another one, he turned to Ethan, “What about you, Ramsey?”

In all of the time they’d worked together, Baz had asked Ethan to go out with him countless times, and Ethan had never said yes. Ethan rarely went out, and when he did, he had a drink or two at Donahue’s and went home. He didn’t run around Boston recklessly searching for adventure, and he certainly wouldn’t have done so with his coworker.

But when Ethan imagined returning to his empty apartment – the one he’d shared with Charlie on many nights – and jealously mourning his loss as he drank alone, anything else seemed preferable.

To his own surprise, he accepted, “Sure. We can leave after I finish the tests.”

Only a block from her destination, Charlie had no distraction to keep her from thinking about what she was doing. After being caught by her pager and revealing her plans to her colleagues, there was no catastrophe. No one else stopped her in the hospital. No surprising patient kept her at work, and no horrific traffic accident prevented her from getting a car downtown. And deep down, Charlie hated it.

She was really doing this.

She was going on a date with someone else.

The idea had been Kyra’s. When Charlie declared her intention to move on from Ethan, Kyra had a million ideas, most of which included kissing strangers until she forgot what Ethan tasted like. This had been the tamest solution, and Charlie agreed, picturing the whole thing as a hypothetical rather than her weekend plans.

Her friends were quick to suggest potential dates. Bryce produced a surgical intern as his nomination, hailing him as one of the “lesser assholes” on the team who would be a perfect rebound because he was too much of a workaholic to establish a serious relationship. Sienna, on the other hand, introduced a charming man she’d met in a coffee shop that oozed commitment and stability. Elijah similarly suggested a nice, stable friend, but Charlie declined both. Jackie thought that the idea of a blind date was ridiculous and suggested they go to a club, get shit-faced, and encourage Charlie to hook up with an attractive stranger.

It was Kyra who suggested David Abbott, a tech guy she’d met at a yoga class. He’d just sold a start-up and was trying to find a healthy work-life balance. They’d run into each other a few more times on Kyra’s mission to experience life and David’s quest to see what he’d missed when he’d dedicated his youth to his company. He was friendly, respectful, and too interested in finding himself to settle down.  

He was perfect.

But all Charlie could think about was the way Ethan looked at her when he realized what she was doing…

The car ride downtown ended too quickly, and Charlie hesitated to step out of the car after paying the driver. She stood on the sidewalk, ogling at the tall building as her determination wavered.

The sun had long set, and a gentle breeze coated Charlie’s bare skin. Summer was nearly over, but Charlie hardly remembered where it had gone. As she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass windows, she felt very different from the girl who arrived in Boston last summer. She’d been so many women in this city. The scared intern, the woman bent on survival, and then a ghost of the woman who had loved Ethan Ramsey. Now, it was time to be someone else…

Charlie counted to ten and then stepped inside the luxe water-front hotel, and she made her way to the trendy rooftop bar. The Boston cityscape glittered back at her, illuminating beautiful young people as they milled about. The Boston Harbor reflected the city back into the sky, and under the hazy glow, everything seemed new and bright.

Charlie texted David that she’d arrived, and as she moved through the crowd of people toward the bar, she hoped that she had more time. Maybe he was in traffic or was running behind.

She ordered a mojito, and as she waited for her drink, she admired the view. It was so idyllic – the water, the summer night sky, the first date with a handsome stranger, and the trendy bar where not a soul recognized her. So, why did Charlie feel claustrophobic and cagey? Guilt nagged at her heart, punishing her for a perceived transgression against a man who wasn’t even hers to betray.

She felt restless, and her fingers itched to text David with a feigned emergency. It would have been easy to leave, and the elevator doors seemed to call to her.

You don’t have to do this, they implored, You don’t have to let go of Ethan.

She didn’t decide fast enough.

The bartender shoved her mojito at her, and she ambled off to the railing, staring at the scene below.

“Charlie?”

Surprised by the sound of her name, Charlie shifted her attention to the man approaching her.

“David?” she asked, though she doubted it could be anyone else.

“Guilty as charged,” David produced a hand for her to shake, sparing her from hugging a stranger, and Charlie accepted it thankfully.

As she appraised him, she noted that he looked nothing like Ethan. He was younger, though he shared lines etched into his face by stress. David was shorter, though not by too much, and his fashionably cut hair was blonde. He looked at ease in the bar as his brown eyes surveyed the scene, and he stood differently than Ethan, too. He was open and vulnerable, and Charlie doubted that he was capable of feeling emotion without openly expressing it.

He was everything that Ethan wasn’t.

And that irked Charlie.

Charlie followed David as he led her to a seat by the water. She sat opposite him, her spine straight and her grip on her drink delicate. She felt like she was sitting for an interview rather than a date, but if he was alarmed by her formality, he didn’t let on.

“So, before I embarrass myself, I must confess that I know nothing about medicine. Everything I know comes from Greys Anatomy and the time I went to the emergency room after breaking my leg skiing in college,” David laughed as he took a sip of his drink. It was tall and dark, but Charlie didn’t recognize it. “However, Kyra assures me that you are extremely impressive, and I don’t doubt it.”

Charlie’s posture softened at the compliment, and she blushed, “Kyra has also told me that three separate coffee shops have cappuccinos so delicious that you’ll cry at the first taste, so I don’t know if I would take her word on it.”

David laughed so hard that he had to put down his drink to keep from spilling it, and when he looked back at her, there was a sparkle in his eyes that piqued Charlie’s interest.

“Have you ever tasted a cappuccino that made you cry?” David challenged.

“Not yet, but I’m open to the experience.”

David was smirking.

Charlie found herself smirking back.

“So far, you’re exactly as great as Kyra said. Unless you’ve got some wild hidden skeleton in your closet,” he shrugged, “Like maybe this all a rouse to murder me in an alley.”

“Damn, you ruined my plans,” Charlie played along, “I guess I should go home.”

“I swear, all the good ones are serial killers,” David shook his head with feigned disappointment, and it made Charlie smile.

She added ‘funny´ to her list of what she knew about David.

“What about you? Living out a bucket list at 30? That’s a little suspicious,” Charlie teased, though her curiosity was apparent.

“I saw it in a romantic comedy and thought it would make women fall in love with me.”

Charlie gasped, shoving David lightly with her leg, and he beamed back.

“Alright, alright. I’m kidding,” David conceded, “I spent my entire twenties trying to make something of myself. I skipped parties, dates, holidays, everything. As ridiculous as this sounds, I loved my company. Like, true love. Like, someone should have sent me to therapy sort of love,” David quipped and seemed satisfied that Charlie was amused, “When I sold my company, I didn’t know what to love anymore. I’m on a quest for love. I think that’s what we’re all looking for, really.”

Charlie hummed appreciatively, sipping from her mojito. If he could dedicate himself so fully to moving on from the loss of something he loved, maybe she could do the same. Maybe they could do it together.

“How philosophical for someone I met fifteen minutes ago,” Charlie teased.  

“Ahh, but you haven’t left yet. So, I must not have scared you off,” David celebrated.

And he hadn’t.

Three drinks later, they were still seated by the water, talking. The bar’s crowd expanded, and more than a few patrons eyed their seats enviously. The music had gotten louder, too, so they had to lean closer to share their funny stories and humorous observations. More than once, David’s hand landed on her knee when he leaned in to tell a joke, and Charlie let him.

She liked David Abbott, and the date was going well.

Still, when she smiled at David, she thought about Ethan.

He was always in the corner of her mind. She wondered what he would do if he were here, what he would say or drink. Where would he have taken her on a blind date? What sort of first impression would he have left? Would he have kissed her goodnight or said goodbye at the door?

She tried to put that out of her mind as she listened to David share a story about a crazy roommate in college, and she was so determined to be entertained that she didn’t notice the two men enter the bar.

Because if she had, she wouldn’t have cared about David’s story. She might not have even cared about David.

“This place is packed!” Baz felt like he had to yell to make sure Ethan heard him, and Ethan nodded his agreement, remaining silent.

Ethan was eager to start drinking, and he didn’t care how busy the bar was. He’d agreed to go out with Baz with the sole intention of distracting himself from Charlie. Sober, he couldn’t get her out of his mind, and he couldn’t sit under the weight of his regret and jealousy.

“I’m going to circle the bar to find a place to sit! You stay here and look for one, too!” Baz suggested, “If either of us finds something, we’ll text each other, okay?”

He agreed, and Baz set off to make his loop.

Ethan surveyed the landscape. Everyone was young and hip, and it made Ethan feel old in comparison. Several women were looking in his direction, and for a moment, he was tempted to approach them. It would serve Charlie right. She should be just as jealous as he was…

But when he imagined taking another woman home just to spite her, he felt sick. He didn’t want to hurt Charlie more than he already had. And he really didn’t want anyone else.

So, he quickly averted his eyes and searched the edge of the party, where most of the seats had been filled by couples. He craned his neck to see if anything was available, and that’s when he saw her.

Charlie.

Leaning into another man. Listening to him. With his hand on her knee. And she was smiling.

Ethan’s world seemed to stop moving. Everything else faded to the back. He couldn’t hear the music or the crowd, but he could hear her laugh. He could see her smile and feel the warmth, even at a distance. She glowed under the moonlight, and in his gut, Ethan knew she was happy.

He stumbled back, unable to look away.

It was one thing to know that she should move on and find someone else.

It was another to watch her do it.

He wanted to intervene and tell her that he’d changed his mind – that he’d seen the light and knew that he needed her in his life.

But that wasn’t fair either.

Ethan’s phone buzzed, and he fumbled for the device, only looking away from Charlie to read the text on his phone.

Baz: it’s full here. any luck?

Ethan: None. Should we leave?

Baz: meet you at the elevator

Ethan exhaled a deep sigh of relief, eager to get the hell out of there and never return. But when he started to walk away, he hesitated. He didn’t want to leave her… He didn’t want to let her go.

In the end, he didn’t let go, not really. He just left the bar and went to another, and he drank until he stopped hearing her laugh ring in his ears.

Charlie and David stayed at the bar for a little while longer, sharing weird experiences in public transit and funny stories about their college roommates. David suggested getting pizza, and when Charlie admitted that she’d only had a protein bar for dinner, he wouldn’t let her say no to a slice. David paid the tab, and as soon as they were in the elevator, he began bragging about the best pizza place in town and how he and all of his friends had frequented it back in the day.

It was close enough to walk, and they fell into a comfortable rhythm. It was there that Charlie realized that this could have been more than a first date. It could have been spending the night together or dinner next Friday. It could be a weekend out of town to see the leaves in the fall. It could be dinner at the loft to meet all of her friends. It could be real.

And suddenly, Charlie really missed Ethan.  

They were only a block from the pizza place when Charlie’s phone buzzed in her purse. She fished it out as they waited at a crosswalk, and she twisted her face in surprise at the caller ID.

Baz.

“Sorry about this, a friend is calling,” Charlie apologized to David, though he assured her that she didn’t need to.

When she accepted the call, she could hardly hear over the roaring bar in the background. But Baz was there. He was laughing and seemed oblivious that Charlie had even answered.

“Hello? Baz?” Charlie called out, “Are you there?”

“Charlie!” Baz exclaimed, so excited that she wondered if he had forgotten that he even called. He was definitely drunk, “You’ve got to get down here! We’re having the best timeeeeeeee.”

“Maybe you should call it a night, Baz,” Charlie warned him softly, crossing the street by David’s side.

“Noooo, I couldn’t do that! Ethan would be crushed.”

Charlie’s heart stopped. Ethan.

“He’s soooo drunk, Charlie. He’s, like, dancing,” Baz confided, “Between you and me, I think he’s pretty far gone. Somebody should probably call him a car.”

If Baz was this drunk and was worried about Ethan, something had to be wrong. Charlie felt sick.

“Is he okay? Are you okay?” Charlie’s voice had taken an edge of panic, and David looked to her in concern.

“I’m fine,” Baz insisted, “But Ethan… I mean, he is drunk, Charlie.”

“Can you take him home?” Charlie felt like she was begging. Ethan didn’t do this. Someone needed to help.  

“But we’re having a great time!” Baz huffed, sounding like a child annoyed at having to end his party.

“Baz,” Charlie was frustrated, “He needs to go home. You need to take him home. Where are you? I can send an Uber.”

“Are you coming to the bar?” Baz must not have heard all she said, or maybe he was too drunk to care, “We’re at The Hub. I can’t wait to see you!”

Click.

Charlie’s face paled as she pulled the phone away from her and confirmed that he’d hung up on her. Anxiety built in her chest, making it tight and uncomfortable. She imagined Ethan, too drunk and under the faulty care of an intoxicated Baz, and she wanted to throw up.

She hadn’t realized that they’d reached the pizza restaurant until David stopped walking.

Distracted, she stopped and looked to David, waiting for some kind of cue to enter the small restaurant. She couldn’t think about sitting down and eating, not after Baz’s call. She felt like she needed to get there as soon as she could and save them before something horrible happened, but she didn’t feel like she had the license. She was supposed to forget Ethan, not run to him on her first date with someone else.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” David phrased it like a question, shoving his hands in his pockets, but he knew it was the truth.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie confessed, “I’m just really worried about my friend.”

David nodded like he understood, “You sure you’re not just ditching?”

“I’m not ditching,” Charlie shook her head, “I had fun.”

“I did, too,” David confessed, “Raincheck on the pizza?”

“Deal,” Charlie agreed quickly, though something felt strange about her promise. Was she really sure she would make it to the second date?

“Good luck with your friend,” David wanted to be encouraging, but he really didn’t want to let her go. He liked Charlie more than he expected he would, but he sensed the flight in her. There was something in her eyes that made him unconvinced that he would ever see her again. He kissed her cheek just in case it really was goodbye.

“Thank you for a nice time, David,” Charlie didn’t want to seem final, but as she awkwardly waved goodbye, it felt final anyway.

The Hub was only a few blocks away, and after a short walk, Charlie found herself in a small, crowded pub. It was impossible to hear anything over the thundering music and conversation, so she pushed through the crowd to find a familiar face.

She found Baz first.

He was sitting at the bar, beer in hand as he talked to another man. The closer she got, she realized that they were debating politics. Though they agreed on most topics, their remaining disagreements made the conversation contentious and animated. Stacks of empty shot glasses sat in front of Baz, and there was no way he’d finished all of them. At least some of them must have been Ethan’s.

Charlie fought through the throngs of people to reach Baz, and she tapped on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Charlie!” Baz exclaimed, wrapping Charlie in a hug, and she was too surprised to reciprocate. Baz pulled her to his side, “This is my friend Charlie! Charlie, this is Damien. Damien doesn’t think that corporations are responsible for going carbon neutral in the next decade! Can you believe that?”

Baz fumed, ready to start a war with Charlie at his side, but Charlie merely shook her head, leaning to his ear to ask, “Where is Ethan?”

Baz looked around quickly, seeming surprised that Ethan wasn’t beside him. After a beat, he remembered and yelled, “He went to the back!”

“Okay,” Charlie took her phone, opening the Uber app and handing it to him, “Call a car to your apartment. We’re leaving as soon as I find Ethan, alright?”

Baz pouted but complied. Trusting that he was drunk enough to go home but not in immediate danger, Charlie left Baz to finish his debate. The space was small enough that it only took Charlie a few minutes to reach the back of the bar, though she had to shove several patrons just to get by. They mumbled insults as she passed, yet she hardly heard them. She needed to find Ethan.

And she did.

Ethan Ramsey was leaned against the wall, too dizzy to stand straight. He’d been marooned in this corner when his latest drink made the world spin too fast, and he couldn’t collect himself enough to walk back to the front. He’d tried once, only to nearly fall on his face. So, he’d camped out here, watching the partygoers. There were too many couples looking happy, and he rolled his eyes at every single one. Why had they gotten it all right?

Ethan’s vision was hazy, so he didn’t believe it when he saw Charlie approach him.

Relief surged through Charlie’s veins, bringing tears to her eyes as she approached him. Instinctively, she wanted to hold him and kiss that stupid expression off his face, but she felt held back.

“Charlie?” Ethan slurred, still convinced he imagined her.

“Come on,” Charlie held out her hand, “I’m taking you home.”

He wanted to tell her that he’d seen the two of them together, that he was jealous and miserable because of it. But instead, he whined, “I’m dizzy.”

“That’s okay,” Charlie’s voice was soft as she hooked her arm around his waist, stabilizing him. He leaned into her just enough to walk straight, and together, they moved through the crowd. By the time they reached Baz, he had successfully ordered a car, and Charlie fished Ethan’s credit card out of his wallet to cover the tab. She forced Baz to end his debate with his new friend, and she towed the two men out of the bar.

On the sidewalk, Baz and Ethan gulped the fresh air. Ethan leaned back against the façade of the building, trying to catch his breath, and while Charlie stood back, she watched him with concern.

Baz was telling her something funny about the bartender, but Charlie hardly heard a word.

When the car arrived, they squeezed into the backseat. Ethan got in first, leaning against the cool window to sober up, and when Charlie slid in beside him, his arm wrapped around her waist as if anchoring himself to her. Baz was the last to enter the car, and he kept talking. The driver entertained him, laughing at whatever Baz’s joke was.

“I have a secret,” Ethan’s whisper was soft as he leaned into Charlie, his head resting on her shoulder.

Charlie’s hands were in his hair, massaging soothing circles in his scalp as she asked, “What is it?”

“You can’t tell Charlie,” Ethan declared, his words slurring.

“I won’t,” Charlie assured him, feeling a tad guilty at the deception.

“I saw her on her date,” he confessed, “And I miss her. So much. I want her to be happy… But I miss her.”

Charlie’s chest tightened, and her heart raced, “You see her every day.”

Ethan shook his head, “She doesn’t want to be around me. I hurt her. I meant to hurt her. I want her to find better than me.” His voice wavered, thick with emotion.

“She misses you, too,” Charlie professed breathlessly, suddenly aware of every missing piece she’d been looking for with David.

She missed Ethan. She’d missed Ethan from the moment she lost him in the spring.

Ethan hummed, his eyelids heavy as he fell further into Charlie.

At some point, they had reached Baz’s apartment building. He gave Charlie a tight hug, disturbing Ethan’s peaceful rest, and he bid them both goodnight.

“This was so much fun! We have to do this another time!” Baz called out after he’d already closed the door, cupping his mouth to make sure they’d heard it. Charlie laughed, watching as he waved until they faded into the distance.

Even with the open seat, Charlie didn’t move from the middle. She held Ethan in her arms, steadying him as dizziness and nausea gripped him. Even in his drunken stupor, he promised himself to never drink this much again.

Ethan’s apartment wasn’t much farther away, and Charlie thanked the driver as she slipped out of the backseat. She offered her arm to Ethan as he stood, and he wrapped himself around her. Though he towered over Charlie, he walked in step with her, arm around her waist and head bent to hers. He managed to give her the key to let her in the building, and he gagged at the sudden movement of the elevator. Charlie’s hand ran the length of his back to keep him calm.

When they entered his apartment, Jenner roused from his slumber to greet them. He barked excitedly at Charlie, and she smiled at him, showering him in compliments as she promised to pet him soon.

“I feel sick,” Ethan announced, eyes hooded, and she swore he was turning green.

“Okay,” Charlie soothed his hair, feeling the sweat on his brow, “Let’s go to the bathroom.”

Ethan didn’t object as she steered him through his apartment, leading him to his master bathroom. He dropped to the floor, relieved by the cold tile, and Charlie wet a cold rag to cool him down.

“How are you feeling?” she asked tenderly, kicking off her high heels to kneel beside him.

“I feel fine,” Ethan lied, “I just need a cold shower and I’ll be perfect-“ Ethan didn’t get to finish that thought before another wave of nausea hit, and he scrambled to the toilet bowl, throwing up hours of vodka shots and pretzels. Charlie sat with him through it, tracing patterns on her back to soothe him.

Even in his clouded state of mind, he appreciated that she was there.

When he was done, he grimaced, “I think I’m dead.”

“You just threw up. You’ll be fine,” Charlie rolled her eyes, smiling at him as if he hadn’t just puked in front of her. She offered a washcloth to wipe his mouth with, which he accepted, and then a little cup of mouthwash, “Gargle this.”

“I might throw it up.”

“You won’t if you don’t swallow it,” Charlie shoved the small cup at him, and he begrudgingly took it.

Ethan gargled the mouth wash before spitting it back up in the toilet bowl. He flushed it down and stood, feeling shaky and exhausted.

“Do you want to go to bed?” Charlie offered, holding his hand.

Ethan nodded, failing to find words that sat well on his stomach. He wanted to thank her, but he worried that if he spoke too much, he would start vomiting words instead of pretzel.

Holding on for stability and comfort, Ethan let Charlie lead him back to his bedroom. He kicked at his shoes, struggling to get him off his feet as Charlie pulled back the duvet. He peeled off his clothes, throwing them in a pile by his bed, and he fell into the cool sheets with a relieved sigh.

“Roll on your side. You’re not going to sleep on your back, okay? Do you promise me?” Charlie’s voice was surprisingly authoritative, and though the room was still spinning, he did as she said. She didn’t want to leave him alone, not when she’d just watched him throw up a shelf worth of alcohol, but she wasn’t sure if she could stay.

“Are you-“ Ethan swallowed, looking queasy, “leaving?”

Ethan’s eyes opened fully. This time, he could see her without blurry edges or double vision. She looked so pretty, so concerned…

He looked hurt and dejected by the idea of her leaving, and her stomach dipped.

“I probably should…” Charlie didn’t sound sure of herself.

Ethan nodded like he understood, but his head felt like it had gone through a blender. He couldn’t really process anything other than she was here.

“Stay until I fall asleep,” he murmured, eyes already fluttering closed.

Charlie couldn’t say no.

As she sat on the bed beside him, she tried to convince herself that it wouldn’t be long. Soon, he would be asleep. Then, she could leave. She just had to wait.

“Just until you fall asleep,” Charlie was mostly talking to herself as Ethan flipped on his other side to face her. She couldn’t resist the urge to smooth his hair out of his face, eyes soft with worry.

Ethan’s arm draped over her waist lazily. His head fell to the pillow beside hers, his body warmth radiating to Charlie’s skin. He felt warm and vulnerable and, despite being sick, at ease. And somehow Charlie felt at home.

“My Charlie…” Ethan murmured, half-asleep but smiling, and knowing he couldn’t see her, Charlie allowed herself to smile as her heart swelled with affection.

My Ethan, she thought.

What a fitting end to a first date. All she proved was that she would always run to Ethan, but instead of being disappointed in herself, she stayed in the moment and weakly promised herself that she wouldn’t do it again.

But she had a habit of breaking promises when it came to Ethan…

The next morning, Ethan woke with a start. His head throbbed, and his throat burned with acid from the night before. The act of sitting up in bed nearly made him lose whatever food was left in his stomach, and he held onto the headboard to stabilize himself. Even with the lights off and every curtain drawn, it was too bright in his room.

“What the fuck?” Ethan groaned, taking long deep breaths to get himself together.

His eyes fell to the empty, rumpled sheets beside him.

She left, he realized.

He knew she would. She even warned him the night before. Yet waking up without her felt wrong and unexpected.

“Stop it,” he chastised himself, “You pushed her away.”

Ethan hauled himself out of bed, feeling gross and in desperate need of a shower. He pulled on a t-shirt from his closet and stumbled out of his bedroom. He was on a mission to make himself a hot cup of coffee, no matter how hungover he was. He fumbled with the kettle, cursing himself for not owning a simple coffee maker, and he went through the process, occasionally covering his eyes to shield himself from the sun coming through his windows.

Click.

Ethan jumped, turning his attention to his front door as the lock clicked into place and the knob turned. Who the hell would be coming in his apartment? Fuck, was his dad making a surprise visit? He couldn’t see him like this. He didn’t want to see anyone. He just wanted to hide in his bed.

Just as Ethan feared, the door swung open, and there was a bark on the other side.

“What the fuck?” Ethan murmured.

As if released from his leash, Jenner bounded into the apartment, running up to Ethan and rising on his hind legs to get his master’s attention. Ethan absently scratched his ears, eyes still wide as he tried to understand what was happening.

Then he saw a flash of blonde hair.

Charlie entered the apartment, empty leash in one hand and his apartment key in the other. She was still wearing her dress from the night before, though it looked rumbled and disheveled now. Ethan slowly realized that she’d slept here. And she’d stayed.

“Oh, you’re up,” Charlie looked surprised to see him, “I just… um, took Jenner for a walk.”

“Thank you,” Ethan couldn’t wipe the look of shock off his face, “I didn’t expect to see you.”

Charlie shrugged, chewing on her lower lip as she tried to seem nonchalant, but how do you appear casual after dropping everything to pick up an old fling and spending hours caring for him?

“Thank you for last night, too,” Ethan knew he was appreciative, though he didn’t know how appreciative he should be. He could hardly remember a thing other than seeing her on her date, going to a bar, and then riding home with her.

“You’re welcome,” Charlie laughed, “As soon as Baz called and told me you were dancing at a bar, I knew you two needed to call it a night.”

“I was dancing?” Ethan repeated incredulously.

“I mean, by the time I got there, you were just glaring at people from a corner, but I trust Baz,” Charlie admitted.

“God,” Ethan grimaced, leaning against his kitchen cabinets as he marveled at how foolish he’d made himself, “I’m sorry you had to deal with that, Charlie.”

“I didn’t mind,” Charlie was surprisingly truthful. She knew she should have resented him for interrupting her night, but she couldn’t will herself to be annoyed, “Besides… You saved me from my drunk self once. I was just returning the favor.”

Right.

The night she texted him drunk before the ethics hearing. He’d searched all of Boston to find her, and they’d spent the weekend in his apartment hiding from the world. That was their beginning.

Ethan found himself smiling at the memory. Everything seemed brighter and better then, even if it was the darkest point in his mental health. He’d had Charlie, and somehow, that was enough.

“Can I make it up to you with breakfast?” Ethan offered, hoping to reward her for her generosity but also desperate to keep her here a little longer.

“You feel up to cooking?” Charlie asked suspiciously.

“Oh God, no. I’m going to order. I almost threw up making this coffee,” he motioned vaguely to his French press, and Charlie bit back her laugher.

“Okay…” Charlie was smiling, and it made his knees feel weak, “Breakfast it is. But if you throw up again, I’m not holding your hair.”

Ethan smirked, shaking his head, “No promises.”

“Well…” Charlie shrugged, “I’ll stay anyway.”

Note: I tried making a collage with the dress and bar I pictured, and idk, I might keep doing it. 

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[jamespotterthefirst]

How Do I Love Thee? (Ethan x MC)

Regency Era AU 

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Miss Lilac Allende) Word count: 5K Warning: More historical pining Premise: Their kiss marked the end of their medical apprenticeship, but is that the end for them? Part three of She Walks in Beauty and A Red, Red Rose. 

I.

Everything at Edenbrook reminded him of her. He could not work in peace in his own study without thinking of her torturous lips moving in unison with his, of the sinful little sighs he evoked from her, of her coy hands losing themselves in his hair. 

Ethan groaned. 

The clock that particular morning read well past nine in the morning, which meant his study would be desolate for the remainder of the day and thus safe for him to use. A small stab of disappointment made itself present in his chest before Ethan resolutely pushed it away.  Much like he had for the past two weeks, he reminded himself that avoiding her was the best alternative, for both of them. 

Ethan swallowed down the brief bout of despair that flooded him. Not seeing her was a torment, sinking in his stomach like a boulder. Seeing her and enduring the cold, determined manner in which she avoided his gaze was much, much worse. 

_______________

II. 

 Every nerve in her body was alive with anxious energy as she traveled down a deserted hall. With a deep, steadying breath, Lilac willed herself to relax, reminding herself that business had taken him away to London. There was no possibility of running into him as she extended her stay at Edenbrook that morning. 

Suppressing a sigh, she tried not to dwell on his absence. 

It was true that they barely saw much of each other as of late, but having him so far away was disheartening and it made the loss of him much more tangible. It broke her everyday that went by. 

Lilac startled at the sight of someone turning the corner. 

Mrs. Martinez smiled kindly at her, no doubt noting her reaction but choosing not to comment on it. Instead, she said, “Thank goodness you are back, dear. And already changed out of that dreadful costume,” she motioned to the bundle of gentlemen’s clothes Lilac carried in her arms. “We can set off at once.”

She grimaced at the thought of going home. “Actually, I am staying behind to study some more.”

Mrs. Martinez sent her a knowing look. “Study?” she repeated suspiciously. “Is that so?”

Lilac’s posture became a little straighter. “Yes, Dr. Ramsey is in London and Dr. Banerji assured me his library is at my disposal for however long I need it.”

The older woman looked as unconvinced as ever. “Is this really about studying?” she asked innocuously, “Or is this about avoiding Lord Carrick?”

The name and the accuracy of her statement sent her stomach sinking. Her silence was all the admission Mrs. Martinez needed for she laughed triumphantly. 

“I may be old but I am not a fool, my dear,” she chided, though not unkindly. “And you forget that I know you since the day you were born.” 

Lilac averted her gaze. “I do not wish to spend any time with anyone if I could be using that time to study instead.”

“It will appease your father,” Mrs. Martinez returned. “What is so unappealing about this suitor, corazón? He is a baron, perfectly pleasant, and exceedingly handsome. Is that not pleasing to you?”

Unbidden, thoughts of Ethan’s piercing blue eyes taunted her. It was all she could think about for the past few weeks. Her traitorous mind recalled the feel of his lips, surprisingly soft against hers, his hands clinging on to her waist, and the sound of her name in his spellbinding voice. 

Lilac shook her head imperceptibly. At once, she dismissed all thoughts of the man who wanted nothing to do with her. 

Mrs. Martinez waited for an answer.  

“Lord Carrick is decent enough,” she admitted hesitantly. “Though I believe you and father are overestimating his interest in me. As you said, he is a wealthy, handsome baron, which makes him the most eligible bachelor in the area. He cannot seriously consider the daughter of a foreign merchant who is almost six and twenty.”

“I would not be so sure of that, dear,” her companion returned sagely. “He seems completely besotted. I would expect an offer any day now.”

Lilac allowed herself to consider that. She had been so close to being a spinster that the thought of marriage had not crossed her mind in recent years. Her plan had been to study and practice medicine, even if they both had to be clandestine.

 That was all her heart desired. 

At least, it was all it desired up until a few months ago. 

“Could we please stay a bit longer?” was all she replied with, determined to change the subject. 

Mrs. Martinez sighed, defeated for the time being. “Alright, dear,” she allowed. “We can stay for another hour. That might be all the time we can get away with before your father starts asking questions.”

Lilac nodded, already thinking of ways to turn that hour into two. After Mrs. Martinez set off for the Edenbrook gardens she loved so much, Lilac continued her journey down the hall. 

The study, once the source of so much happiness, sent an icy stab of despair through her at first glance. Lilac forced it aside and began browsing through the vast collection of books.

She had just opened her selection to an interesting chapter when the door of the study opened.

“You promised me an hour, it's only been thirty–”

Lilac stopped abruptly as she whirled around, eyes landing on the tall, broad shouldered figure at the doorway that was decidedly not Mrs. Martinez. 

Doctor Ethan Ramsey stood before her, hair windswept and handsome face bright from the biting breeze outside. The early September sun shining through the tall windows cast an almost inhuman glow upon him, making him appear as destructively beautiful as ever. 

He looked just as shocked to see her, frozen mid stride. 

The silence that followed was loaded and wildly tense. 

Lilac opened her mouth, determined to break the unbearable pause. No words came to mind, however, paralyzed as she was by his presence and the way her chest ached for him. 

It was debilitating and she loathed it. 

Ethan, meanwhile, quietly observed her in the silence, eyes ablaze with an emotion she couldn't quite place, one that kindled a warmth in the pit of her stomach. It was as though he was struggling to decide if she was real and standing before him. 

It forced Lilac to finally look away, a painful knot in her throat. 

“I did not think you would still be here–” he blurted at the same time she hurriedly said, “I thought you were in London, otherwise–” 

They both cut off at the same time. 

Mortified and heart a thundering chaos, she wished for nothing more than to disappear into the ground.

She cleared her throat, refusing to look at him. 

“My apologies, sir,” she started with as much grace as she could manage. “I only wished to borrow a book for my studies. I will be taking my leave–” 

“No,” he said much too quickly. She glanced at him, instantly regretting her weakness.

Ethan was watching her, eyes roaming her face. 

“You can stay, Ms. Allende,” he said and the formal mode of address sent a little pang through her. 

Lilac, torn between fleeing from the heat of his gaze and the longing to finally be in his presence again, opened her mouth to argue. Ethan shook his head, perhaps knowing what she was about to say. 

“I insist,” he continued, unyielding. “I have a house call with a patient anyway so you will not be disturbed here.”

Before she could protest, he picked up his medical kit from a nearby table and retreated. As the door closed behind him, the ache in her throat swelled, her heart shattering into impossibly smaller pieces. 

_______________

III. 

Thoughts of beautiful green eyes, appearing dim and forlorn as they fell on him, haunted Ethan when he finished that evening’s house call. He threw the empty vial into his bag with more force than necessary, desperately pushing the specter of Lilac Allende’s disdain away. 

“Goodness!” his patent exclaimed, reminding Ethan of where he was. “Is my condition so severe that it inspires such an outburst from the most reserved man I have ever met?”

Slightly embarrassed, Ethan turned to the older woman who watched him with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. In her frail state, the widowed baroness looked somehow smaller. 

He offered her a tentative smile. “You are vastly improving with every visit, my Lady. Whatever it is you are doing to improve your condition,  continue it twice as often.”

At this, she laughed, the sound almost sounding like a croak. “Then I shall double my efforts to avoid forming a scowl and laughing at the men foolish enough to wear one.” She threw Ethan a significant look. 

He couldn’t help but laugh at that, the first genuine laugh in weeks. Ethan liked the baroness well enough. It was her son, on the other hand, whom he couldn’t stomach. 

Almost as if summoning him with the thought alone, the door of the bedchamber opened to allow for the baron’s entrance. 

Lord Carrick sauntered in with a stride that commanded respect, even if the man himself did not entirely deserve it. He was tall, though not taller than Ethan, and many women often referred to him as handsome. For a wild moment, Ethan wondered if Lilac found the baron handsome as well, before he forced himself to remember that he had no right to wonder about her thoughts. 

The ever-present sneer broadened when Lord Carrick’s eyes fell on Ethan. “How is my mother?” he inquired, skipping all pleasantries. Ethan was glad for that. There was only so much social conversation he could endure and he had spent it all with the baroness. 

“She has improved greatly since my last visit,” Ethan replied, unable to keep the terse edge from his voice. This seemed to entertain the baron greatly for his lips curled further in derision.

Suppressing the sudden urge to hit him, Ethan added, “However, she should continue to get plenty of bed rest in addition to the medicine I am administering for the pain.”

The baroness’s lively smile faltered ever so slightly at the words "bed rest". Lord Carrick, noticing his mother's shift, let out a bark of a laugh, loud and imposing as everything else about him. 

“You will have to forgive my mother, Dr. Ramsey,” he said with a cheerfulness that was entirely too artificial to Ethan's ears. “You see, she was eagerly awaiting the grand ball we will be hosting here at Kenmore tomorrow evening.”

Ethan had received the invitation, sent out of social obligation no doubt. He had cast it aside, giving it no thought since. 

The baroness gave a small delighted squeal at the mention of the event. “Dr. Ramsey, you must  join us! All of the most influential families from all over will attend. It will be a most delightful occasion indeed!”

Ethan planned to avoid it for all those reasons precisely. Instead of offering empty promises, he remained silent. 

The baron, on the other hand, was watching Ethan with interested, narrowed eyes, as though carefully measuring his reaction. In a tone that he no doubt believed to be casual, he said, “Yes, Doctor, you must attend. The evening promises to be particularly joyous as I intend to secure an engagement.”

Ethan remained very still, offering no perceptible reaction that would betray the cold dread coursing through him. He was not entirely sure what prompted him to respond, but he said, “I was not aware you were to be married.”

“I am,” the other man replied at once, with an acute possessiveness Ethan did not miss. “I just returned from speaking to her father and happily securing his approval.” A deliberate pause, then, “Excellent family, the Allendes. Miss Lilac Allende is no doubt the greatest beauty in the county. Don't you agree?” 

But Ethan had stopped listening at the mention of her name, an icy, iron fist clenching around his insides. He could not explain away the abrupt hollowness in his chest or the way his throat constricted painfully. 

“Doctor?” the baroness asked with concern. 

Ethan was not entirely sure he responded. In fact, he did not remember with certainty if he said any goodbyes before he left Kenmore with haste. One minute, he was inside the grand estate, the next he was mounted on his horse, galloping at blinding speed toward Edenbrook. 

Except, Edenbrook should have been the last place he should go. Everything about that place reminded him of her. 

Lilac. 

Soon to be engaged. 

Part of him knew this would happen. How could it not? She was lovelier than anyone he had ever set eyes on. Her winning charm was bound to captivate someone eventually. Wasn't he a prime example of what those green eyes could do to a person? 

But she was so much more that a lovely face and bewitching, expressive eyes. She was a wealth of compassion and kindness, bestowed freely on anyone who needed it, like the sun giving its warmth selflessly. She was a fierce, determined protector, both for herself and for those who needed a champion. She was a beautiful, brilliant mind, unyielding in its quest to learn more with the sole purpose of improving a bleak world that at times did not deserve her. 

She was everything. 

His mind whirled aimlessly with a world of thoughts as Ethan commanded his horse to push faster, the obliging beast increasing its speed. The hooves against the grit of the road did little to drown the pounding at his ears. He would give anything— his money, his estate, his damn sanity— to cease all thoughts of her. 

And all the while, the goddamn pain in his chest refused to subside. 

The biting wind whipped against his face, gray clouds swirling above with the promise of rain. He had only just begun to wonder if he would be caught in the downpour when something small blurred out of a nearby bush, blocking their path. 

His horse let out a startled, deafening neigh before throwing Ethan off its back. 

A sickening crunch, a wave of blinding pain, and the memory of green eyes before darkness overtook him. 

_______________

IV.

The sheer terror that gripped her was debilitating as she ran through fields of tall grass and mud. Every intake of breath was a painful ache, every step arduous with trembling knees. Lilac did not know how her weightless body had the will to carry her, but it did not cease until Edenbrook loomed closer. 

She halted at the grand entrance of the estate, breathless and eyes stinging with unshed tears, the note that delivered the dreadful news clutched painfully in her fist. There to greet her was Dr. Banerji, though his unsmiling, melancholic demeanor did nothing to comfort her.

“Is he–?”

“He’s alive,” he assured her solemnly. 

But she did not dare to feel relieved until she saw him herself. 

She discovered she was entirely wrong mere minutes later when the sight of his bandaged body brought little solace to her. Her feet carried her to his bedside with such resolve that she did not pause to apologize to the startled servant she almost shoved aside. An invisible rope tugged her to him, as it always had since perhaps the moment she met him, except this time, it would not be abated until she sat by his side. 

Very gingerly, she took his uninjured hand in hers. 

He was asleep, chest rising and falling gently. Lilac bit her lip to suppress an onslaught of emotion. The sight of him vulnerable and broken was a sacrilege. He should be awake, towering over her, fighting back a laugh at one of her dreadful jokes or piercing her with those eyes of his. 

Ethan's handsome face was relaxed as he slept, long dark lashes fluttering with every breath he took. In this form, he looked almost peaceful save for the sling around his left arm, the bruises over his bare torso, and the bandage on his forehead already blooming with blood. 

Dr. Banerji moved to tend to the wound but Lilac intervened. 

“Please,” she pleaded quietly. “Let me.” 

He gave her a kind, understanding nod. “I shall give you a moment with him,” he added, his benign eyes falling on their joined hands. 

After Dr. Banerji exited the room, accompanied by the servants, Lilac set to work on his wound. She meticulously washed her hands in a nearby basin and carefully doused fresh gauze with carbolic acid, just like he had taught her. Very carefully, she began to clean the wound. 

The sting of the acid caused him to stir, his head rolling slowly from side to side in protest. Slowly, his eyelids fluttered open. 

When his bleary eyes finally focused, they found hers at once, with a flash of disbelief to see her there. 

“You're here,” he muttered, his voice hoarse with disuse. 

“I am,” she assured him. 

His blue eyes took in every inch of her face before they closed, as if in worship. 

“Did I perish?”

Lilac paused at that, caught completely off guard. “No,” she said at last. “But you suffered several serious injuries.”

Ethan laughed, the sound bitter and entirely humorless. 

“It's no laughing matter,” she admonished. “You could've died, Ethan.”

Her voice cracked slightly at the last few words.

 Ethan's eyes flew open at that, or perhaps at the use of his name. In her distress, she had forgotten all about proper modes of address. 

As he looked at her, he seemed unmoved by the severity of the accident. Lilac's temper flared up before she could stop it, fueled by the terror of almost losing him forever. 

“How could you be so reckless?” 

His eyebrows shot up at that. “How is a house call reckless?” he asked patiently, almost as if asking her to explain a passage on immunization she had found interesting. 

“Going on horseback at the heels of a storm? Completely senseless,” she shot back. “You could've taken the carriage, as you always do.”

“I only took the carriage when you accompanied me,” he said calmly. 

A small pause in which the unspoken became evident to both. There was no need to use the carriage because she wasn’t his apprentice anymore.

 As though reading her thoughts, he shook his head, the movement making him wince slightly. “I am not implying this is in any way your fault. It was simpler to go on horseback, particularly when I was only going five miles to Kenmore.”

Lilac became very still at the mention of the estate. 

Moving her eyes away from his, she busied herself with cleaning more gauze with the carbolic acid. She could feel Ethan’s eyes watching her closely, sending a wave through her that made her feel feverish. It was astonishing how he always managed to do that without even uttering a single word. 

“You're bleeding again,” she observed when the silence reached its peak. 

Ethan said nothing as he continued to look at her. Something flickered in his eyes and she could swear he was willing her—begging her— to share something with him. 

It befuddled her. 

Unsure of what to say, she directed her attention to his wound. 

“Don't move,” she instructed softly. 

With a feather light touch, she dabbed the gash. Ethan hissed but otherwise did not protest as she worked. 

“How dire is the damage, Doctor?” he asked when she began dressing the wound. He uttered the word with utmost respect and it sent a thrill through her. 

Before she could manage a breathless answer, Lilac became acutely aware of how close they were from one another, close enough that a lock of her long, unpinned hair brushed against his naked chest as she worked. 

Ethan's hooded eyes traced its path. 

 Time stood still in the dim room, the air crackling with heavy tension. 

Ethan’s chest began to rise and fall in quick succession as he regarded her, making her fingers tremble. When she finished her work, she remained frozen in place, the heat of his body, the hypnotizing smell of his cologne, and the ardor of his eyes transfixing her entirely. 

Very slowly and with bated breath, she moved her eyes to meet his. 

He was watching her with a tenderness so pure and sincere, she was certain she would remember it until the day she died. The muscles in his throat worked as he swallowed, his face tense with a pained expression. He remained unmoving, as though afraid that any sudden movement might make her disappear. 

“Lilac,” he whispered, the sound so adoring, it tugged at her chest. 

Her fingers, which still rested on the fresh dressings of his wound, slowly trailed down his face. Ethan closed his eyes. 

“You should rest,” she whispered back. 

He was already obliging, his muscles relaxing under her touch. 

“Don't go,” he murmured, half conscious. 

Her throat constricted with emotion as she watched him succumb to exhaustion. The thought that she could have easily lost him forever sent a fresh shock of panic through her body. If that terrible prospect had become a reality, Lilac didn’t think she could survive it.

Before she was fully aware of what she was doing, she pressed her lips gently to his forehead. The gesture felt so undeniably right that she decided then she was exactly where she belonged. 

At his side.

“I won't,” she promised as sleep claimed him. 

_______________

V.

Rain pattered gently against his bedroom window when he awoke, his body feeling like lead. He groaned when he shifted on the bed, pulling at his injured arm. His head throbbed painfully, and when he reflexively reached up, his fingers touched the neat dressings of a wound. 

The memories of her fingers against his skin came in a flash. 

Ethan sat bolt upright, instantly regretting the action as pain shot through his arm again. He swallowed it down, eyes scanning the dim bedchamber, desperate to see her. 

“She's not here,” Naveen said from the armchair in the corner of the room. 

Ethan sank back into the mound of pillows, his head threatening to split open. Unsolicited, the memory of Carrick's proclamation before the accident echoed in his mind. If his mental calculations were correct, the Kenmore ball was last night. 

“Right,” he said, masking all disappointment from his expression. “She is engaged now.” His chest felt oddly hollow at the words. 

A brief memory of the previous day replayed in his head. Lilac, so close to him that the lovely smell of her jasmine perfume tormented his senses. His half conscious whisper, begging her to stay with him instead of going to Kenmore. 

Naveen, on the other hand, was giving him an odd look that was equal parts befuddlement and concern. “That head injury is worse than I thought,” he said in response. “What on Earth are you going on about?” 

“The Kenmore ball,” he said simply as though that was enough explanation. His mentor looked even more confused and slightly more alarmed. Ethan pressed on, “Tobias Carrick was going to propose to Lilac at that ball.”

Naveen's eyebrows shot up. “Well, unless Tobias Carrick is gifted with telepathy, I can assure you that did not happen.”

Ethan blinked. 

His shock amused Naveen for he chuckled. “Miss Allende did not go to Kenmore last night,” he explained. “She's been at your bedside this whole time. Quite stubbornly, might I add.”

Ethan had no words, too overwhelmed by the sense of hope blooming in his chest. 

Another laugh from Naveen, before he added, “And even if that poor girl had left your bedside to attend a frivolous Kenmore ball, what makes you believe she would ever accept Lord Carrick? Should I really be that concerned for your head?” 

Ethan ignored this as a sudden urgency overtook him. 

Last night, he had felt only half awake and nowhere near coherent enough to properly tell her what he had realized before he fell off that horse, what his heart already knew and silently harbored for many months. Coming so close to death made him realize that he had to let her know, he had to tell her what threatened to make his chest burst. 

“Where did she go?” 

“She said she was going to the Edenbrook gardens for– Where are you going?” 

Ethan ignored Naveen's protests about bed rest.   

He found her twenty minutes later after a reluctant servant helped him get dressed. 

Unaware of his presence, she serenely walked down the cobblestone path, protected from the slight drizzle of rain by the thick foliage forming a lush, green tunnel. She wore a thick coat but no hat, her dark hair loosely pinned and falling in waves down her back. 

Among the flower beds lining the path, she looked a lovely addition to their midst. 

Lilac turned when he was mere feet away, surprise evident in her features, closely followed by disapproval. “Dr. Ramsey,” she said by way of greeting. “You should be resting.” 

“I had to see you,” he told her, foregoing any preamble. He was done concealing the truth. 

This made her pause briefly. 

When she recovered, she said, “I was to return in a few minutes.” Then gesturing toward the estate, she added. “We can go in together.”

When he made no effort to move, she arched a delicate brow at him. 

“What I have to tell you cannot be delayed.”

“What could possibly be so important that–” 

“I love you.” 

The three words, uttered so calmly and undeniably, adorned the long silence that followed. 

Looking entirely startled, Lilac inhaled a small breath, the air catching at her throat softly.

Before Ethan could lose his newfound bravery, he continued, “From the very first moment you assessed me with those brilliant eyes of yours I became enraptured. Unknowingly, I placed my heart in your hands, Lilac, where it stayed all those months we worked together and where it remains today.”

Her beautiful lips parted, eyes shining bright with an emotion he did not dare to analyze just yet. Somewhere above them, the rainfall hastened, droplets of water drumming against the dense canopy of leaves.

“Ever since that first time you broke into my study, your passion, your fierce determination inspired me to be a better man. I was–I am willing to give you anything you wish for. Even if that means a mentor or a friend or an advocate to march into St. Bard's and demand they allow you into their medical school. Anything you want, Lilac. I will not be thoughtless enough to make the choice for you again.”

“Ethan.”

The sound of his name from her lips was like a song and he briefly closed his eyes to worship it. 

“I was arrogant to push you away,” he continued, driving all his efforts at keeping his voice even. “I foolishly believed I knew what was best for you. I never once paused to ask you what you wanted. It made me no better than the people all around telling you what you can and can't be. For that, I hope you can forgive me someday.”

Another silence in which the only sound came from the rain falling softly over their heads. 

Lilac stared up at him, standing perfectly still, as though taking in his every word like a breath of fresh air. Very slowly, she moved closer to him, her face giving him no indication of her intentions. 

He held a breath, throat tight, heart beating wildly in anticipation. For a moment, he considered the possibility of her rejection and he instantly knew it would not matter. All he wanted was for her to know his true feelings, with no reservations and not expectation of anything in return.

After what seemed like an eternity, she moved even closer and took his hand. 

“You would give me anything I desire?”

“Anything.”

Her thumb skimmed over the ridges of his knuckles. Ethan glanced down, the sight of their joined hands overwhelming him with foolish hope. 

“You have already given me what I longed for the most,” she said, her face so sincere he had never been more captivated. “You have made me your equal.”

The rain was a torrent around them by now.

“All there is left is you. I want all of you, Ethan.” 

“You have me.”

And that was all the encouragement she needed. Closing the last few inches between them, she raised herself on the tips of her toes to kiss him. 

Though he remembered her kiss faithfully, his lips moved against hers in desperation, hoping to memorize their softness over and over again. Ethan's hands found their place at her waist, hers around his neck, their bodies fitting as perfectly as if they were designed to be that way. 

They remained as such, bodies and lips pressed together, until they were both breathless. 

Ethan pressed his forehead against hers. 

“I know you do not wish for a husband, otherwise I’d–” 

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Tobias Carrick,” he explained and Lilac pulled back slightly to roll her eyes. 

“I would never marry a man idiotic and presumptuous enough to announce an engagement before asking me,” she declared with such conviction that his desire for her multiplied. 

“My refusal to marry him stemmed from common sense,” she continued, every word against Carrick making it far more difficult for Ethan to keep his lips from hers. “Not from not wanting a husband,” she continued. “I wish to marry only the man I am desperately in love with.”

The deliberately charged look she gave him broke a smile across his face. 

He kissed her again. 

_______________

Epilogue

A year later. 

“A patient for Dr. Ramsey,” the servant announced at the door of their study. 

After the young girl’s departure, Lilac glanced up from her notes to shoot her husband a quizzical look. “Which Doctor Ramsey do you believe they seek?”

Ethan offered her a loving and equally charming smile, one he knew had a powerful effect on her. She tried not to be distracted by it, though she failed miserably. 

“Perhaps the best out of the two,” he replied. “Which undoubtedly means you, love.”

Lilac rolled her eyes and she bit her bottom lip, attempting to restrain a smile. 

Her husband’s eyes fell on her mouth at the movement, that familiar spark of longing glinting in their depths. In one swift movement, he crossed the length of the study and just as quickly, he had her in his arms and pressed against his desk. 

Her surprised yelp gave way to a peal of laughter. 

“We’re in the study,” she pointed out, breathless. Ethan did not seem to hear her as his lips had set to work on her neck. He made it very difficult to protest. “We can’t.”

“That’s never stopped us before,” he argued, his voice a hot whisper against her throat.

“I meant because we have a patient,” she returned. 

At that, he straightened and pressed a chaste kiss on her forehead. “Right as always,” he murmured. 

Lilac took a brief moment before parting to study him, his beautiful, chiseled face sending a rush of heat through her. Those quiet, striking eyes surveyed her curiously. 

“What?”

“I love you,” she informed him. 

Ethan beamed, the simple gesture making him look younger. She would never tire of the sight as long as she lived. 

He pressed an adoring kiss to her hand. 

“As I love you.”

_______________

Author’s Note: I want to cry with gratitude if you made it this far in this crazy, thirteen thousand word saga. (I’ve never in my life written anything this long, so you have my gratitude forever). A big thank you to everyone who read, liked, and/or commented the other two parts. Your support means everything to me. I have no words, just love for you. 

Again, pardon the title. This one was named after a beautiful poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 

________________

Tags:  @openheart12 | @ethandaddyramsey | @noboundariesplease | @silverlitskies | @infinitiestones | @flyawayboo | @paulfwesley | @hatescapsicum | @myusualnerdyself | @thatysn | @choicesyouplayandmore | @chasingrobbie | @trappedinfandoms | @togetherwearerapture | @nooruleman | @caseyvalentineramsey | @axwalker | @parkerattano | @i-bloody-love-drake-walker | @kaavyaethanramsey | @edith-eggs1 | @choices-lurker | @jens-diamondchoices | @tefigranger | @ethanrcmsey | @coffeebeandragon | @senator-adrian-raines-wifey | @aestheticartwriting | @longneckramsey | @binny1985 | @mvalentine | @sanchita012 | @drethanramslay | @ramseysno1rookie | @lion-ess24 | @emotionalswift2 | @the-soot-sprite | @takeharryandgo | @aworldoffandoms | @desmaranj | @ josieplayschoices

[mischiefandi]

A Shitty Love Song (Part 1) - Stiles Stilinski

Wild Ones

A/N: hey everyone! this has been a long time coming! thank you for lovely comments on my previous post, im super happy to finally be posting this. a HUGE thank you to @duskholland​ for helping me out so much with this series, ily to death bitch. enjoyy yall

Summary: Y/N is a 17 year old girl who struggles in an epic battle against herself. Whether it is amor’s icy grasp or life’s unexpected course that forces her to finally open up, only one thing is certain. The truth cannot be long hidden.

Warnings: underage drinking, party times, maybe a couple of swear words but im not sure haha

Word Count: 5,3K

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader (Y/N)

Series Masterlist

(picture is not mine -> credits to @ pechka on unsplash)

Seasons before, in the early fall where the leaves don’t yet want to leave their wooden hooks, Y/N had just started her junior year of high school. Being the new girl in school, she was afraid of being alone - something she had always been - but not this year. Whether it was chance or fate, she happened to fall upon a curious but wonderful group of people who quickly became her friends.  

At its center, Scott McCall, young lacrosse player with a boyish charm and a heart of gold and by his side, Stiles Stilinski, an eccentric and spirited young man. Surrounding them were Lydia Martin, the fiery and confident genius, the sweet yet lethal huntress, Allison Argent, and finally Isaac Lahey, charming Mr Mischief himself.

This pack of wild cards had found a new companion, and Y/N fit in like a puzzle piece filling in its designated spot. She got along with everyone in the group, forming indestructible friendships with these eccentric teenagers, and she felt fortunate beyond belief. More often than not, she would eat with them by the walnut tree outside of the school. The group would share stories and food, complaining about the soporific lessons from the earlier period, or excitedly planning the next outing, the next party. Every week, the teenagers would go hang out in the woods by the mystical ruins of the Hale House, doing more of the same. Life was light and good.

The group had planned on hanging out by the Hale House one quiet September afternoon, but the universe likes to play tricks, and somehow Y/N and Stiles were the only ones to show up. Deeming it a happy accident, the pair walked through the damp woods together, talking about their day and slowly letting each other in. Laughter echoed between the trees and the wind turned.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

A little more than a month had gone by and Halloween was just around the corner. Classes seemed longer than usual, bigger stacks of schoolwork forming daunting piles on Y/N’s desk. But school was the last thing she could think of when she got home after a long day of concentration. The only thing that mattered, was Stiles. Video calls, phone calls, and late night texts that seemed to never cease took over the second Y/N’s feet passed the threshold of her home. And nothing compared to these conversations.

“I’m sorry but no.”

“Stiles, stop, seriously.”

The mole-speckled boy lunged forward in front of the screen and passed a shaking hand through his spiky hair.

“There is no way you like the second trilogy better than the first one. It’s just not possible.”

“Well it is possible, because I do,” Y/N retorted, her unfazed expression gleaming back at him.

“Literally how? The group dynamic alone should make you see reason. I mean come on. Han and Leia? Han and Chewie? Han and Luke?”

“You do know Star Wars doesn’t exclusively revolve around Han Solo right?” she asked, her lips breaking into a smirk.

“First of all, no. Second, give me one single reason why the second trilogy is better than the first,” Stiles said, “I dare you.”

“One reason?”

The boy nodded, serious as a statue.

“Hayden Christensen.”

Stiles groaned deeply, his face buried in his large hands.

“Can’t even have a serious discussion about Star Wars with someone rational.”

“I’m not sorry.”

“You’re the worst.”

Y/N paused, holding a finger to her chin.

“Hmm, agree to disagree.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Hey! How can we have an intelligent debate about anything if you use swearing as a last resort.”

“I have given up on us. It’s over.”

Y/N laughed profusely against her pillow, shaking her head.

“You’re a drama queen.”

“FRIENDSHIP OVER!” Stiles bellowed and Y/N shot her head back, unstoppable laughter erupting from her stomach.

“It’s going to make things awkward at the party, Friday,” Y/N said between chuckles, her laughter quieting down.

“Who said you were even invited,” replied Stiles, adjusting his shirt, revealing a tiny patch of skin just above his sweats. Y/N’s eyes flicked over to the screen but the second had passed.

“Funny. Listen, I gotta get some sleep otherwise I’ll pass out in math or something.”

“Yeah, I should probably also go to bed sometime soon.”

“Hopefully before tomorrow morning.”

“Har-har,” said Stiles, smiling at the camera, his chocolatey irises beaming at Y/N.

“Goodnight nerd.”

“Goodnight loser.”

Y/N stuck out her tongue at Stiles before hanging up the call.

That night, as she carefully brushed her teeth and got her clothes ready for the next day, Y/N thought back on her video call with Stiles, a warm smile spreading on her lips.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

The week passed so slowly, each hour lasting an exhausting eternity. School, demanding as ever, while keeping Y/N busy, was the reason why time seemed so lengthy. The nasty side-effect from tantalizing hours is the amount of thinking you do to keep busy. So Y/N did just that. She thought about how much she cared for her group of friends, she thought about the fact that she had never felt like she belonged like she did then.

She thought about how nice it was sitting by the Hale House, enjoying each others’ company, how life is so much lighter when you feel surrounded, how much she had learned about herself after meeting the pack. She thought about the band Stiles and her liked so much. She thought about Star Wars. She thought about the sound her computer made when Stiles sent her a message. She thought of his hair, his moles, his neck. She thought about how thrilling it was when he sat next to her. She thought about how much he mattered in her life, just like the others mattered too.

Y/N did so much thinking that week. But the funny thing is, amor has a way of tricking your mind. Your body believes one thing but your mind has been bewitched, and no amount of thinking you do can remove the fog clouding over your eyes. 

When came Friday, Y/N was happy to be done with school, bursting through the doors of the establishment, excited to go home and get ready for Danny’s Blackout Party. She was thrilled about going, however nervous she felt. 

She had never been to a party like Danny’s rave before and she had no idea what to expect. But more importantly, she was afraid of crowds. She had tried going out to packed bars with people from her old school, but the chaos and the drunks surrounding her made her feel beyond uneasy. 

“Y/N! Wait up!” She heard Allison exclaim, and she slowed down her pace, allowing the brunette to catch up with her.

“Are you excited for tonight?” asked Allison, her light brown eyes gleaming brightly.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be...crazy.”

“You okay?”

Y/N forced a smile and nodded overenthusiastically.

“Yeah! Just tired. It was a long day,” she replied.

“Same here, which is why, we need to let loose tonight! Let’s get ready at Lydia’s, so we can all head over there together.”

“Sure. Quick question though, how did Lydia get us invited in the first place?”

Allison giggled, nodding her head towards Aiden and Ethan standing by their motorcycles.

“How do you think?”

The girl’s laughter echoed through the cool autumn air and disappeared with their cars. It was going to be a night to remember.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

As Y/N and Allison reached Lydia’s house, Y/N couldn’t help but feel more and more anxious, tightly gripping her bag filled with clothes and makeup. The party was starting to worry her.

People had been whispering about it all day back at the high school, talking about the numerous illicit drinks that would be served and the intriguing entertainment. It seemed like the Danny had gone all out for Halloween. Still, not knowing exactly what to expect practically terrified Y/N. 

She was outgoing, but big crowds and chaos were things that made panic bubble up inside of her very core, quickening her heartbeat to a frightening extent. She loved dancing and partying, and much like other people her age, she loved a good drink every once in a while, but huge events and big blowouts, she had never been a fan of.

Putting on a brave face, Y/N shut the car door and walked up the stairs to Lydia’s front porch, ringing the doorbell as Allison locked the car. After what seemed like mere seconds, Lydia opened the door, letting the excited girls in.

“Finally. I thought I was going to have to get going without you,” she said, smirking at the pair.

“Y/N couldn’t decide what to wear,” replied Allison, sending Y/N a look that made Lydia scoff.

“Excuse me if I've never been to a neon-themed rave. How am I supposed to know what to wear?”

“Well the name of said rave could be a pretty good indicator,” mocked Lydia as the girls walked up to her bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

“Ali, what are you wearing?”

Allison giggled with a smirk and did a demonstrative twirl, showing off her burgundy flannel shirt and black jeans.

“This!”

Lydia raised her eyebrows at the brunette, a confused expression etched on her face.

“Am I the only one here who understands the term “neon”?” she asked.

Allison shook her head then slowly unbuttoned her shirt, revealing a neon pink bra.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. This stunt was definitely orchestrated for someone special.

“Wow. Isaac will love it.”

“It’s about time you two did something about your situation,” joked Lydia, reaching for an eyelash curler.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” replied Allison with an innocent shrug and a slightly less innocent wink.

“Well now that Allison’s outfit is sorted, it’s your turn, Y/N. Let’s see what’s in this enormous bag of yours.”

The strawberry blonde bent down and grabbed Y/N’s bag before she could say anything, emptying its contents in a flash.

“No, no, definitely not, no…Y/N, why are all of these clothes black?” inquired Lydia, with a look of disgust she had difficulty hiding.

“Lyds, I told you, I don’t know what to wear to a rave.”

“Show me your bra.”

“What?”

“Show me your bra. If it’s the right colour, we can just pair it with some of my clothes.”

Y/N reluctantly removed her white shirt, revealing an electric blue floral lace bra, much to Lydia’s delight. Allison whistled approvingly.

“Okay here’s what we’re gonna do.” Lydia walked over to her closet, carefully studying its contents. Allison and Y/N exchanged a glance as Lydia clapped her hands together.

“This goes with this, and you have to tuck it in, like so,” she said, “okay, try this on. Now.”

Y/N looked down at the outfit her friend had put together.

“Yes ma’am,” she mumbled, her face as white as a sheet.

Y/N walked to the corner of the room as the girls chatted and finished getting ready. Her heart thundered as she passed her neck through the bottom of the sheer black top Lydia had handed to her. Looking herself in the mirror, all she could see was a blushing dishevelled mess. Her bra covered most of her chest, but the curves of her breasts were only slightly hidden by the black mesh material she was wearing.

“Okay, this is okay…” she muttered to herself, trying not to panic.

Bending down, she grabbed the black layered skirt she had brought with her and brought it up to her hips, tucking the top inside. The skirt helped balance out the outfit, but still Y/N wasn’t fully convinced.

“How are you feeling?”

“Kind of nervous honestly.”

“I meant how do you feel about the outfit- but you’re nervous? Why?” asked Lydia, walking over to Y/N in front of the full-length mirror.

“It’s just- I’ve never been to a big party like tonight, much less looking like…this,” Y/N reluctantly replied.

Lydia bit her lip and sucked in some air before smiling widely at Y/N and taking a step forward.

“By “looking like this” I hope you mean by looking incredible. Y/N, look at yourself. You’re tall and confident, the outfit looks amazing on you. Your look is not the problem,” she said, gently.

“Then what is?”

“You tell us,” replied Allison, walking over to the girls by the mirror.

Y/N exhaled deeply and turned around to face her friends.

“I hate crowds. I love partying don’t get me wrong, I just- I get really really panicky around big crowds of people. The noise, the warmth, all of it, just terrifies me. I’m worried that I’ll hate it and freak out or something. I’m sorry, I probably should have said something before.”

As soon as the daunting words had slipped through her lips, Y/N felt a weight lift from her weary shoulders, a wave of relief passing over her entire body.

“Hey, it’s okay. Everyone’s got something they’re uncomfortable with. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” said Allison, sweetly.

“I know, it’s not that I’m ashamed, I just- didn’t wanna be a downer. I really am excited for tonight! I’m just nervous.”

Lydia placed her hands on Y/N’s shoulders and smiled brightly.

“Look, you’re gorgeous right now. Even without my help, you’re gorgeous. And tonight, we’ll be around the whole time. If you feel freaked out or you start to panic, we’ll go outside and get some fresh air. We don’t mind.”

“Exactly, we’re your friends. You know you can depend on us on occasion,” Allison joked and Y/N laughed, shaking her head timidly.

“Seriously, Y/N, we’re gonna have a ton of fun tonight. And if you need anything, whatsoever, we’re both here,” added Lydia.

Y/N’s heart swelled and she felt her eyes filling slowly. Blinking the impending tears away, she smiled widely, her radiant eyes following suite.

“Thank you, both of you. You’re the best.”

“Agreed. Now, that’s sorted. Are you comfortable with the outfit?” asked Lydia.

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror, analyzing every detail of her figure, taking in how “out there” the outfit was. After a few seconds, she nodded to herself and smiled.

“You know what? You only live once.”

Allison giggled and rested her arms on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Tonight is going to be amazing!”

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

As Lydia’s car pulled into the parking lot in front of the venue - a large concrete building comparable to a construction site - Y/N sent a text to her friend.

Y/N: we just got to danny’s party

Y/N: u guys here?

The girls looked up at the windows on the top level, the neon lights shining through catching their attention, the music already reaching their ears.

The group excitedly entered the building, Y/N’s heart thundering against her ribcage. Allison noticed the worried look on her friend’s face and she slipped her hand in hers, sending her a warm smile. Y/N took a deep breath, and the three beautiful girls went into the otherwise empty elevator. On the way up, Y/N’s phone vibrated against her palm and she looked down at the screen.

Stiles: we aren’t there yet

Stiles: Scott needed to go get something

Y/N’s heart couldn’t help but sink a little. She had hoped the boys were going to be there already, though why, she couldn’t say. Her phone interrupted her thoughts again.

Scott: by smth, Stiles means someone

Scott: and by someone, he means Kira

Scott: also we’re late because of the jeep

Scott: ;)

Y/N chuckled and texted him back, Lydia and Allison sharing an inquisitive look.

Y/N: figures :))

“Who is that?” asked Allison as the elevator doors opened.

Y/N winced slightly and turned to Allison.

“It’s the boys. Scott was just telling me they picked up Kira…”

“Oh.”

Lydia looked from Allison to Y/N, and back, the awkwardness beyond tangible.

“Are you okay?” asked Y/N, worried that the news had killed the mood.

“Honestly? I don’t love the idea of partying with my ex and his new girlfriend, but we broke up three months ago. We’ve both moved on. Besides, I really like Isaac. I’m not gonna let this ruin my evening,” Allison answered, a soft smile on her lips.

“Allison has Isaac, Scott has Kira, Stiles- well I don’t know about Stiles. That leaves you and me, Y/N. You can help me avoid Aiden tonight,” said Lydia, straightening her dress.

“Aiden, as in, the guy you hooked up with who just so happens to be the guy who invited you to this rave?”

“Precisely.” Lydia walked away hurriedly, and the girls laughed, entering the venue.

The grey concrete in the hall was uncharacteristically bland compared to the other-worldly burst of colours inside of the venue. Neon blue, pink, orange, yellow, and green exploding in every direction, paired with blaring purple lights attached to the concrete beams above the dancefloor where what looked like at least 70 people were jumping up and down to the beat of Losing It by FISHER. Strands of white UV tubes hanging from the ceiling all around the dancefloor lit up every white item of clothing in the room, turning the pure colour into a bright purple.

This giant nebula of chaos and colour made Y/N’s blood pump ten times faster throughout her body. That or the the bass blasting through the giant speakers by the DJ. Either way, the thrill of it made Y/N shiver, her whole body completely frozen in place. 

“This is crazy!” Allison gasped.

“Danny really went all out,” said Lydia, staring at the dancing figures in the center of the room.

Y/N’s phone buzzing woke her from her trance and she read the text.

Stiles: be there in about 20 minutes

Stiles: can’t wait to embarrass you on the dancefloor

Y/N: oof

“Let’s go get a drink,” Lydia urged, walking over to the large snack table with numerous bottles. Y/N read the labels and nodded, impressed by the wide range of drinks.

“Wow. Jack Daniels, vodka, a shitton of beer, wine coolers, rum, Jagermeister…Danny really did go all out.”

“Pass me a cup,” said Allison.

As the girls filled their glasses, Lydia eyed Y/N’s cup.

“Y/N, are you sure you want to start with a triple shot of vodka?”

“Yeah, it’s fine!” Y/N exclaimed, downing the drink before anyone could stop her and gasping as the strong liquid burned its way down her throat.

“Ohkay, take it easy,” said Allison, shooting a worried glance at Lydia.

“I’ve got it under control,” replied Y/N as she refilled her cup.

“Let’s go dance!”

Allison dragged the girls away from the table, walking over to the dancefloor. Y/N downed her second drink and nodded wearily.

“Yesss, let’s do this!”

The looming herd of party-goers, intimidating as it was, seemed a little less daunting now that Y/N was actually at the party.

“How bad could it be?” she thought to herself before treading through the mass, occasionally bumping against people energetically throwing their limbs around.

In the middle of the chaos, Allison stopped and started moving her hips in sync with the song, Lydia quickly following suit. Y/N bobbed her head along to the beat of the bass, her arms swinging awkwardly on either side of her body. Allison laughed and grabbed her friend’s arms forcing the movement to flow through Y/N’s limbs. Lydia busted up and down, moving her waist so naturally it seemed like she had been born for this very moment.

Closing her eyes, Y/N tried to focus on the music vibrating throughout her body, the memory of the colours surrounding her floating behind her eyelids. Allison sang along with the lyrics of the current song, shouting out the words as she moved from side to side. Y/N slowly started to lose herself to the music, letting go of her inhibitions, forgetting the world around her.

When the beat changed, her feet jumped up and down, as if they had a mind of their own. Her head felt heavy yet no thoughts crossed her mind. The music had gotten rid of all concentration, the only thing left was the bass flowing through her veins, making her entire body pulsate to the beat.

Beads of sweat trickled down Y/N’s neck as she kept dancing, her feet starting to ache with every jump. It had only been about fifteen minutes, but to the dancers, it seemed like a wonderful eternity. Finally, Lydia tapped on Y/N’s shoulder and shouted by her ear.

“Let’s do some body painting!”

Y/N nodded profusely, a wide smile on her lips.

“Ali went to dance with Isaac!” Lydia shouted as the pair pushed through the crowd.

“Where’s the paint?” shouted Y/N, trying to hear her own voice over the music and failing miserably.

“Over there!”

A tall blonde boy holding brushes with purple and pink tips smiled as the girls reached him, his charismatic grin turning Y/N’s cheeks bright red.

“What can I do for you ladies?” he asked, his pearly white teeth a bright purple as his grin widened.

“My friend over here needs a lot of paint. Emphasis on lot,”Lydia insisted.

Y/N shook her head, giggling stupidly.

“Not too much paint,” she said warmly.

The boy smiled with a wink.

“Let me worry about that.”

Y/N removed her mesh top, holding it with her right hand, patiently waiting for the boy to start painting across her chest and back. She shivered as she felt the cool wet tip of the brush meet her sweaty skin, sliding a few inches down, a thick stripe of paint spreading across her back. Y/N giggled at the cold feeling, the alcohol in her system reaching her head. She closed her eyes and bent her neck to the side as the boy continued his line up to her collarbone.

“What’s your name?” she heard him ask.

“What’s yours?” she chose to answer, smiling wickedly.

She heard him laugh as he started painting little dots up her back.

“Jeremy.”

“Nice to meet you, Jeremy.”

“You know most girls like a proper introduction before getting this close,” he said over the pulsating music, his breath fanning over Y/N’s neck as he painted small strokes down her shoulder. Y/N grinned mischievously.

“I’m not like most girls,” she teased as she turned to face him.

“No, I guess you’re not,” the boy replied, his eyes darting towards her lips and back up.

“I’m almost done with your body- I mean with the paint,” he said, shaking his head with a grin. Y/N giggled and stepped closer.

“I’m all yours…” she replied.

Jeremy’s deep blue eyes lingered on hers before focusing on her chest. Y/N thanked the universe that he wasn’t looking straight at her, otherwise he would have seen her cheeks fill with red for the second time. He delicately placed pink and orange dots up and down her chest, careful as to not stain her bra and she watched him, observing his concentration with admiration. Finally, he looked up, smiling at her.

“My masterpiece is done,” he declared, placing the paintbrush on the body paint stand.

Jeremy reached for a mirror and handed it to her. She admired the strands and dots painted across her body in a chaotic waltz, the hot purple and pink clashing against her skin. Looking up at him, she grinned widely.

“You’re talented,” she said.

“It’s easier when you have such a good canvas to work on…” he replied, sending her a look hot enough to melt her.

Momentarily remembering the outside world, she looked around and quickly realized Lydia wasn’t there anymore, probably off dancing or looking for Allison. Y/N turned back to Jeremy.

“I’m sorry, I should probably go check on my friends…” she said, biting her lip as she slipped her mesh shirt back on.

“Of course. Maybe later, we’ll bump into each other on the dance floor?” he replied, a nervous smile etched on his lips.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Y/N winked at him and walked away, trying her best to keep her cool.

“Well that was something.” She thought to herself, a wide grin planted on her face.

Looking around, she couldn’t find either of her friends, nor could she find Isaac. Slightly disappointed, Y/N walked over to the table and poured some vodka in an unused cup before knocking her head back, letting the burning liquid run down her throat.

She eyed the dancefloor and thought back on her previous conversation with Jeremy. She was beyond nervous. She’d never actually kissed a boy before. The opportunity just hadn’t ever presented itself. But now that she was here, feeling tipsy as ever, a few feet away from the cutest boy at the party, she couldn’t help but think, why not?

Wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt and downing her fourth - albeit, strong - drink of the night, she nodded to herself and walked over to the dancefloor.

As Five Hours blasted through the speakers, Y/N pushed her way through the sweaty crowd once again, making her way to the center of the dancefloor. Ignoring the world surrounding her, she closed her eyes and gave in to the music, feeling every beat of the song pulsate throughout her entire body.

Colours, flashing lights, the feeling of people’s skin against hers, her head spinning and swaying in every direction, it made her feel alive. As the last drop of the song reached its peak, Y/N jumped with the crowd, knocking her body against complete strangers, feeling the warm and sticky air fill her lungs with every breath.

The song Too Much by Curbi started to play and Y/N felt someone’s body against hers. Closing her eyes, she turned around and felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist. She sighed lightly, enjoying the feeling of her skin against the boy’s. His fingers treaded down her back, firmly settling just above her ass, holding her steady in a sea of bustling bodies.

She danced against him, turning around again, her back facing his front. Moving against his body, she felt his arms tighten around her, pulling her in. His hot breath fanned over her neck and she moaned slightly, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

Suddenly, time seemed to stand still when his lips lightly touched her warm skin. Y/N inhaled sharply, her eyes still shut. The only thing she could hear now was the sound of her heartbeat furiously thundering against her ribcage. Slowly caressing the boy’s arm, she allowed further access to her neckline, moaning loudly as she felt his feverish lips plant warm kisses on her neck, inching higher and higher. Y/N’s hands reached for his and she tugged them closer to her body, her hips still moving against him. His lips danced furiously across her neck, leaving dangerously beautiful marks on her skin.

The music seemed only to heighten her senses. Her legs almost gave out when she heard the boy groan lightly against her ear, her response, a small whine at the loss of contact with his lips. She turned around and tried to open her eyes, the bright lights bursting through the gap in her eyelids. Squinting at his face, trying as hard as possible not to lose herself to the music again, Y/N’s eyes caught a glimpse of the boy’s face.

Bright pink dashes stained his cupid’s bow and the right corner of his bottom lip, the paint from her neck helpless in the face of a passion like this one. Y/N’s eyes scanned the rest of his face and widened slightly when they met amber irises, warm and inviting and so familiar. Her fingers threaded through his damp dark brown hair, her brain trying to comprehend what was about to happen.

His chocolatey eyes looked deep into hers and he licked his lips slowly, the world around them fading. Y/N felt her vision blur as she inched closer to him, her nose picking up the scent of old leather and pine trees and rain. His lips lingered over hers and she felt a chill as her name echoed through the air.

“Y/N…”.

Their lips connected in a frenzied blur, sending sparks of pleasure throughout Y/N’s entire body and the chaos surrounding the pair completely swallowed them. His teeth slightly bit her bottom lip and she deepened the kiss, ardently giving in to his deliciously demanding mouth. Unable to control her body, she steadied herself against him, tugging at his shirt with one hand, the other cupping his face as he sucked on her delectable lips.

Their bodies so unbelievably close disappeared in the crowd of dancers, the whole world somehow a thousand miles away.

Time, a forgotten concept.

A/N: I seriously hope u enjoyed this!! if u did please reblog :)) (would be super helpful especially with tumblr acting up w the tags and all that) <3 part 2 coming soon!!

if you would like to be added to this series’ taglist, please send me an ask :)

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[commander-rahrah]

RESIDENCY: SECOND CHANCES (AN OPEN HEART FIC): PART TWO

Pairing: MC (Jordynne Holland) X Ethan Ramsey X Bryce Lahela; MC X Bryce; MC X Ethan. Please note that both pairings are present in this fan fiction — off & on, at the same times, and the relationships do ebb & flow. Please keep this in mind. Thank you.

Masterlist: Click Here

Chapter Rating: T (drinking, swearing)

Word Count: 5000+ (its a big one) 

Description: Bryce and Jordynne have time together to explore what everything happening between them means, since Ethan is away in the Amazon finding his own answers.

Disclaimer: Characters, storyline, and parts of the dialogue are taken from Pixelberry’s Choices. They fully own the characters, dialogue, backgrounds, etc. MC Jordynne’s background is my own creation, based loosely off of MC in-game’s personality and provided with more details.

Author’s Note: Well this took much longer than expected! With everything happening in the world, I found it harder and harder to take that personal time for myself to get away and write. But I eventually carved out time for it, and it felt nice to get back into the perspectives of Jordynne, Bryce and Ethan. This fic has a lot of little moments and memories from Book 1 (and fic 1) that can turn into big moments for these characters in the future <3

As always any likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated. If you would like to be added/removed from the tag list please just let me know! I have always had issues with the tag list as well (people not receiving notifications) so if you do receive a notification if you could let me know that would be great! Or if you have any tips for why it wouldn’t be working? 

Taglist: @drakewalkerfantasy @owleyes374 @lahelable @mayar-mahdy @paisleylovergirl​ @nicquix @emilymay100 @octobereighth @llamasgrl @timmagicktoad @lilyofchoices @msjpuddleduck @mfackenthal @paulfwesley @ccolz88-blog @mindlessdreaminxo @jooous @lapisreviewsstuff @choicesarehard @themingdynasty @omgjasminesimone @hopelessly-shipper  @binny1985  @perriewinklenerdie  @jens-diamondchoices  @indiacater  @chasingrobbie  @writingsbymissy  @dimitriwife  @tacohead13  @amy-choices  @violinet​ 

Previous Updates: Residency — Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen Part Fifteen Part Sixteen Part Seventeen Part Eighteen Part Nineteen Part Twenty

Residency: Second Chances -- Part One

Chapter 2

The golden liquor coated her pink lips, turning them shiny. They pursed together, licking the excess off as she lowered the shot glass to the table with a loud bang.

The sound snapped Bryce back to reality — and he swallowed hard as she watched Jordynne throw her head back and laugh.

She was in full force tonight. Her big laugh echoing in the bar. Her perfect, wide smile drawing everyone in. Her wild, blonde hair being thrown over her shoulder.

Sometimes he wondered if she was really from this world.

“Let’s get more!” Her voice was much higher than usual — a good note that she was getting more and more intoxicated.

“C’mon Jordy, let’s pace ourselves.” He suggested, grabbing onto her wrist gently.

“Pace ourselves?! Do I look like a beginner to you? Come on!” She put out her bottom lip at him, looking up at him with giant puppy dog eyes.

It was like a punch to the gut — she could get whatever she wanted with that look. Dammit.

Before he could reply, Jackie came to the table with a tray of more shots and Jordynne greedily grabbed two of them.

“Whoa, Holland’s on a roll tonight,” Jackie said as she slid into the booth, passing out the remaining glasses.

“She’s on something.. that’s for sure,” Sienna said to them, a hand in front of her mouth.

At the sound of the next song coming on, she jumped onto her leather seat in the booth. “This song! This song!!”

He couldn’t even hear it over the crowd. But he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at her excitement.

She crawled over Sienna and jumped out of the booth, landing with surprising dexterity for the amount of liquor she had consumed. “Come on dance with me.” She stretched her tan fingers over to him, “Please.”

“Okay,” He agreed — maybe a little too easily.

He grabbed onto her warm fingers, letting her pull him to the dance floor with surprising strength.  

He watched her jump up and down for a moment — her blonde hair flicking around wildly. He let out a laugh, before mimicking her movements — his tan arms raised above his head as they danced recklessly in the crowd.

She joined in with his laugh — flashing her white teeth at him in a brilliant smile. He gulped as she moved closer to him. He could still smell her, even in the old bar — orange blossoms, vanilla, and jasmine. He could get drunk off of that scent.

His heart fluttered as she grabbed onto him casually, pulling him into her to dance more closely. Bryce was suddenly overwhelmed being this close to her — he felt dizzy, and it wasn’t from the liquor.

Jordynne Holland was intoxicating. And addicting.

His dark eyes settled on her mouth, how much closer it was getting to his as she swayed in front of him.

“Jordy...” He breathed out, stepping away from her.

“What?” Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she looked up at him — her green eyes fluttering. She stepped forward and carefully wrapped her arms around his neck. “I just wanna have some fun. You’re fun. You like fun. Remember fun?” Her pink lips stretched into a smile.

He felt his stomach twist and tug and flutter all at once.

Bryce so badly wanted to give in — to crash his lips onto hers, to hold her back. But he didn’t know where all of this was coming from. Things were still so messy — and right now, she was messy. There had to be something that caused it.

“I know — I just —,” He hesitantly put his hands on her waist, steadying her movements, “Are you sure, you’re okay?”

“I’ve never been better Bryce Lahela. Now dance with me.” She replied, tightening her hold on him as she pushed her body up against his.

_____________________________________________________________________

Ethan watched the light through his window dim as the plane flew into a series of clouds — the pages of his book in his lap suddenly becoming harder to read. 

Letting out a sigh, he put his head back on his headrest — leaning against it as he looked over his shoulder and out of the window.

He eyed the empty spot next to him — a placeholder for his leather bag this time. He tried hard to not go there — to think about the last time he was at the airport, on an airplane, who was with him. If he started down that road, it would make everything harder.

So he ignored the subtle reminder — repressing the memory and averting his eyes from the empty chair.

“Hi sir,” A brunette flight attendant pulled a cart up near his seat, “Due to the length of the flight you will be provided an in-flight meal. It will be arriving shortly. Would you like a beverage to go with it? Spirits? Wine?”   He gestured to the cart.

Ethan swallowed as he eyed it — the little bottles of alcohol clinking together as the flight attendant shifted the cart.

It was tempting. It could be another way to repress memories in the long flight. To calm any gears that started winding.

He cleared his throat, putting on a polite smile, “Can I actually just have a coffee?”

“Of course, sir.” He poured the hot beverage and carefully passed it to him. “I’ll be back with your meal.”

Ethan took a sip and grimaced slightly. It was terrible. And he had to force another thought down as he thought of who else would grin and bear it with him.

But it was just a coffee. He’ll get over this.

He can get over this. He could do this.

_____________________________________________________________________

The slightest crack of one of her eyes caused Jordynne to groan in pain. Her head was pounding — and even the little trickle of light coming through the blinds was killer.

Blinking over and over, she finally was able to open her green eyes fully. She was in her bedroom — how she got there? She wasn’t entirely sure.

The previous night was a blur. She remembered taking an uncertain amount of tequila shots and dancing. So much dancing — her feet were killing her.

Letting out another groan, she shifted onto her side but froze when she felt resistance next to her. Moving her head, her eyebrows raised as she saw Bryce laying next to her — sleeping soundly. He was still wearing his jeans and t-shirt — his arms folded around himself carefully as he slept on top of her white duvet.

Her eyebrows furrowed together — a deep line forming in her forehead. Now that she didn’t remember. Peaking under the duvet, she realized she was still wearing clothes — her boyfriend briefs and shirt were clinging to her body. Her mind started whirling as she attempted to connect the dots.

“Hey,” Bryce’s groggy voice whispered next to her, “You okay?”

She chewed on the inside of her cheek — praying that it was too dark in the room for him to see how embarrassed she looked, “I’m— I’m pretty rough.”

“I would imagine so. You consumed enough tequila to get you, me, and Sienna drunk.”

“Ugh.” She groaned.

“And I’m sure spending two hours on your bathroom floor probably didn’t help.” 

“Nooo...” Her face felt hot as it flushed with embarrassment.

He let out a quiet chuckle, “Oh yeah. Held your hair back and everything.”

She wasn’t sure if she had ever hated herself more then that moment. “Ugh, I’m so sorry Bryce.”

“Don’t be — I didn’t mind.” She gulped as she felt his practiced hand rub her shoulder.

“I’m sure that’s not what you signed up for when we decided to go out last night.”

“I mean, I went to hang out with you. And we did hang out..” His voice trailed off for a moment, “I just didn’t imagine it would be on your bathroom floor with your head hanging off your toilet.”

“Haha,” She hesitated for a moment, “Did we — Did I say anything? Or... I dunno, try anything?”

“Oh yeah,” He let out a little chuckle again, “Drunk Jordy is chaaaatty. And handsy.”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t — we didn’t do anything. You just tried to kiss me a couple of times.” He mumbled a little.

“I’m sorry.” She apologized again.

“People have done crazier things then try to kiss someone while drunk on Tequila.” He reassured.

“I know, I— But we never—“

He interrupted her, “S’okay Jordy.”

“Thanks for staying with me.” She whispered. And she meant it. As complicated as it was, she was glad Bryce was there. He was always there for her.

She felt the bed shift as he turned on his side to face her, “What kind of doctor would I be if I didn’t take care of you?”

“I live in a house full of doctors.” She could feel how close his face was to hers.

“Ha — right.” She could see his sheepish smile in the dim light. “I just needed to know you were okay.”

There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” She lied — a little too easily.

“I just — I haven’t seen you like that before. You were drinking hard. Did something happen?”

She shook her head against the pillow, “I just wanted to let loose. Celebrate surviving my first week back. I just went a little bit too hard.”

“That’s the only reason?”

“Yeah.” She did her best to hide the lie, suppressing the memory of Ethan walking away in the parkade, “So what to do I gotta do to convince you to drag my ass out for some breakfast?”

“No convincing necessary.”

_______________________________________________________________________

 He fell into a routine a lot easier than he thought he would. The repetition was nice — satisfying after the continuous curve balls life had thrown at him over the past year.

There was still chaos here — it was still a medical crisis. But it wasn’t anything that Ethan couldn’t handle.

He spent most of his days in their temporary clinic — diagnosing cases. In the evenings he would spend time with other team leaders, discussing measurements and tactics for preventing further cases. During their free time, he would usually see himself to his room — avoiding the socialization hours around the campfire. He rarely spoke to his colleagues in Boston, why would he do it in the Amazon.

One of the local doctors had told him his Portuguese was improving. A compliment that Ethan heartily took as he was teaching himself from the little pocketbook in his messenger bag and repetition with the locals.

Most nights by the time his head hit the pillow he was too exhausted to think. For the gears to start winding. For memories and thoughts to resurface from the far depths of his mind. And if they did — he forced them away. Closing his eyes with knitted brows, until sleep overcame him. And then he would wake up to do it all over again.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Wow, it’s been a while since I was in here,” Jordynne smirked as she stepped into a familiar supply closet.

Bryce had texted her during her break — asking to meet her there. She didn’t have to ask which one he meant — she knew. The supply closet from the first day they met. From where she had dropped all of her usual guards and kissed a stranger.

The smirk fell off of her face when she saw Bryce’s expression. It was serious — his usual megawatt smile was nowhere in sight. “Wh—what’s going on?”

He took a steadying breath before he spoke, “Jordynne, when did you know?”

“Know what?” Her eyebrows furrowed.

“That Ethan was gone. That he was leaving again.”

Her mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out. She didn’t know what to say.

He let out a sigh — taking her silence as an answer. “Is that why you got like that? At Donahue’s? You literally drunk enough to make yourself sick.”

“I— I was upset.” She explained, stepping a little closer to him, “I didn’t know what else to do — I just didn’t want to deal with it.”

“Have you dealt with it?” He asked back, his voice sharp, “You lied to me. I asked you what was really going on. And you lied.” His brown eyes stared deeply into her green eyes — studying her.

“I— I can’t talk to you about him, Bryce.” She wrapped her arms around her torso, folding in on herself. “I know you tell me I can but I— I just can’t.” Her eyes dropped down to her shoes.

“Why not?”

“Because it isn’t fair!” She raised her voice, her jaw clenched tightly, “Bryce, every time something bad happens with Ethan I run to you. When I didn’t want to admit to myself how I felt about him, I went to you. When he rejected me, when he quit, when he flew to a different continent literally just to get away from me. I keep boomeranging back to you Bryce. And it’s not fair.”

The small space of the supply closet turned quiet as they both thought.

Jordynne broke the silence as she finally looked back up at him, her voice croaking out, “So no I don’t want to talk to you about Ethan. Because it reminds me of what an atrocious person I am.”

“You’re not a bad person Jordynne.” Bryce shook his head at her, reaching a tan hand out and brushing a piece of her hair away.

She closed her eyes at his touch, doing her best to not lean into it, “I am Bryce. I have been to you.“

“I think... I think that you’re human. And things got complicated. And that I decided it was worth the complication — your feelings and relationship with Ramsey included.” He used a knuckle to raise her chin, putting her attention back on him, “But I need you, to be honest with me. Is there something between us? Or did I just invent that?”

“No.. of course there is Bryce. But I... but there’s something between Ethan and I too. Or there was.” She grabbed onto his hand, holding onto it as she took a deep breath. “You’re one of my best friends Bryce. And you’re more than that. And that’s why I need to say this. I think we should stop the “more” between us. For now. Until I — until I can figure how to stop complicating everything. And I can’t do that if we ...”

“Okay.” He said, interrupting her with his honey voice. He was nodding at her — his dark eyes focusing on her as he placed his steady hands on her shoulders.

She let out the breath she was holding, staring up at him in disbelief, “Okay? Just like that. Why are you so agreeable?”

“Puppy dog remember?” He gave her a half-smile, his long hair falling into his eyes as he looked down for a moment. “I’d thought you would’ve figured out by now I’m not going anywhere, Jordy.”

_____________________________________________________________________

Ethan hesitated for a moment — looking at the group of people sitting and chatting by the fire. He could join them — if he wanted.

Shaking his head, he plopped himself down on a stool on the edge of the campsite. Tucked away, and out of sight.

He pulled out the pocket-sized translation book from his chest pocket and started thumbing through it in the dim light from nearby lanterns.

“May I?” A voice asked from behind him.

Ethan stifled the sigh that almost escaped him. Straining his neck, he turned to see Dr. Adébáyọ̀ standing sheepishly, waiting for his response next to the empty stool beside him. He grunted in response, closing his book and slipping it back into his pocket.

The pair sat in silence for a moment, staring off at the distant campfire and taking sips of their drinks from their steel water bottles.

“Do you mind me asking why you came here, Dr. Ramsey?” The other doctor's voice broke the silence.

Ethan furrowed his brows, “Why?”

“I’m curious.” He shrugged, looking over to him.

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

“But satisfaction brought it back.” The man retorted quickly. “Humor me.”

Ethan remained silent — keeping his eyes on the lid of his water bottle.

“Okay — I’ll go first. I came here to practice, of course. Help with research. But I came here for selfish reasons too.” Dr. Adébáyọ̀ settled into his seat as he spoke. “My family emigrated from Nigeria when I was 8. We lived in the UK, Canada, America. We traveled all over the world. But never South America. My father died last Spring. He always wanted to come here. So I signed up for him. It’s sentimental but — I’m glad I did.” He smiled up at the night sky that was glittering with white stars.

“I’m sorry about your father.” Ethan finally replied, looking over at his comrade.

“Me too,” He nodded, a sad smile on his face. “So are you going to tell me why the Ethan Ramsey left his fancy office in Edenbrook for tents in the Amazon?”

The Ethan Ramsey.

He hated that.

He hid his white-knuckled fists at his sides. “I am a diagnostician. I came to diagnose and treat Malaria and other ailments.” He used his practiced voice.

“And that’s it? You are a doctor and nothing else. What are you running from?”

Ethan remained silent for a long moment. He had been avoiding thinking about it this entire time. Why he had flown all the way out here. Abandoned his regular life to sit in a tent all day in the Amazon.

Out of sight, out of mind.

But he could feel his stomach twisting — a gnawing.

“Not what.”

“Hmm?” The other man was so shocked at him speaking, he barely heard him.

“Not what. Whom— whom I’m running from.” He let out a heavy sigh.

“I see. And this person... They are family?” Dr. Adébáyọ̀ asked with a raised brow.

He shook his head.

“Ah, I see. Matters of the heart.” He span around on his stool, so he was facing him more, “You are not together anymore?”

“We — we never got the chance to be together in the first place. Not really. She — we’re coworkers.” He admitted.

“That could be complicated.”

“And when I get back I’ll be her boss.”

“That’s more complicated.”

“Yes.” His voice was barely a whisper as he admitted this all out loud.

“What are you going to do? Coming here is doing what?” He questioned — his eyebrows furrowed as he studied Ramsey in the dim light.

“Delaying the inevitable.” He took a swig from his water bottle, gulping it down, “I’ll have to face her eventually.”

“And when you do?”

He avoided the question, “I just keep thinking to myself what if things were different. If she worked at a different hospital, if we met at a conference instead...”

“Do you want to hear something that was told to me? The universe sends us exactly what we need, right when we need it.”

Ethan let out a sad laugh, remembering Teresa saying the same words to him. “A patient told me the same thing once.”

“And is she? What you need, right when you needed it?”

Ethan thought to the past year. He couldn’t have handled Delores without her. She helped him process and navigate the Naveen situation. Hell, she saved the man too.

She grounded him — brought him back down to Earth. Yet had never had more ups and downs in his life before meeting Jordynne Holland.

He couldn’t have planned for any of it. But he wouldn’t take it back either.

“She — she’s everything I need that I never knew I wanted.“

“It sounds like you have an answer.”

“I don’t — because I’m not what she needs.” Ethan hung his head back for a moment, pursing his lips as he looked up at the inky black sky.

_______________________________________________________________________

She had forgotten how easy it was with Bryce Lahela.

How contagious his smile was. How infectious his laughter was. How easy it was to fall for him.

She was starting to remember why it had been so easy to make out with him in that closet after only knowing him for a few hours. What those early days were like — sneaking away together, watching movies in bed, remembering each other’s burger orders. Before she had made a mess of things.

The entire group was laid out on a couple spread out blankets at the park across the street from the apartment. They had packed some snacks and music — and were all basking in the sun, enjoying each other’s company.

Jordynne was sitting with her knees to her chest — smiling down at the blanket as she listened to Bryce’s warm chuckle reverberate through her. He was sprawled next to her, teasing Sienna about Danny.

Jackie, Elijah, and Aurora were in the blanket next to them — arguing over who has the best taste in music as they passed the speaker around.

She knew what she and Bryce had decided. And they had honored that over the past month. They were still friends — after everything the pair had gone through in the last year, she felt like she could always rely on that fact. They still hung out altogether, and a few times alone too. But sometimes she would catch herself staring at him a little too long, or laughing at his joke a little harder than anyone else.

The tune of an ice cream truck nearby snapped her back to reality as her friends buzzed with childlike excitement. “Ooo! Let’s get some for dessert!” Sienna jumped up, a wide smile on her face.

“Good idea,” Bryce stretched his arms behind him to push himself up, the hem of his shirt pulling up just enough that beginnings of his tan abs were revealed. Jordynne bit her lip as she watched him get up, “What does everyone want?”

“Chocolate!” Elijah said eagerly, his eyebrows raising up on his forehead.

“Gotta go classic — vanilla please Lahela.” Jackie gave him an unusually warm smile as she looked up at him.

“Got it. Mint chocolate chip Jordy?” He asked, looking down at her expectantly. 

“Um, yeah. Thanks.” She blinked in surprise at him knowing before a small smile spread across her face. Bryce Lahela knew her way too well.

Once they had returned with their frozen treats, the group sat together in a circle. Eating fast as the treats started melting over their fingers on the sunny summer day. Bryce had sat next to her again — his bare knee touching hers as they sat crossed legged. It was comforting. And maybe a little distracting.

Jordynne dared a glance at him, to only find him already looking at her. Her breath caught a little as he let out a little chuckle.

“Oh, you gotta little’,” He pointed his finger at his mouth, indicating she had something on her own, “Here I’ll get it.

He reached forward, his hand moving up to her face — his thumb gently swiped at the corner of her mouth, wiping away the melted ice cream. Jordynne unconsciously parted her lips as his thumb traced the curve of them. Their eyes finding each other during the few seconds — holding each other’s gaze.

Sienna coughed awkwardly — breaking the moment.

“You get it?” Jordynne asked, blinking herself back to reality.

He smiled sheepishly at her, “Yeah, I did.” Her eyes fell to the ground before his did, her face flushing a deep pink.

Sienna grabbed onto Jordynne’s shoulder, turning her attention, “Hey Jordynne, I need to wash my hands. Come with me?”

“Oh,” She tried to hide the surprise on her face, “Sure.” She followed Sienna’s quick march to the public restrooms across the park.

“Uhhh, so I thought you guys were gonna cool it?” She asked with one eyebrow raised as they entered the restrooms.

“What? We are — nothings happened.” She shrugged in reply as she headed to the sink.

“Suuuuuure,” The word dragged on with a tone of disbelief, “You looked like you were about two seconds away from sucking each other’s face.”

She shook her head, “We’re just friends right now Sienna.”

“Mhmmm.” Her friend sounded like she still didn’t believe her.  

“I mean it.”

She watched as Sienna turned on her heel and headed into one of the dark green stalls. “I’m just saying friends don’t look at each other like that.”

“You should talk. Aren’t you and Danny “just friends”?” She retorted. She grinned a little when she got no reply.

As she waited, Jordynne pulled out her phone from her back pocket. Her thumbs swiped over her keyboard quickly as she replied to the lengthy group chat between Kenzie, Carter and Jason. God, she missed them.

She started scrolling aimlessly through pictogram, liking photos of friends and scenery back home. Her homesickness was starting to become intolerable.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she scrolled passed a photo quickly — not quite believing what she saw. Scrolling back up, she felt a pang in her chest as she realized she saw it right.

It was Ethan.

The World Health Organization had posted it — whom she followed long before he volunteered with them and flown off to a different continent. He was in the corner of a white tent — his mouth pressed in a firm line as he listened to the slightly out of focus patient sat in front of him.

He looked more rugged — his stubble darker and longer than she had ever seen it. His skin had a golden tinge to it from spending time in the Brazilian sun. It was weird to see him out of his usual button-up shirt and jacket — he was wearing a soft henley instead, showing off the lines of his neck and shoulders.

She swallowed her feelings down as she realized the most important thing about the photo. He looked fine. His usual Ethan Ramsey self. He wasn’t torn up about leaving. He clearly didn’t look like he was having sleepless nights, worrying about what happened to them, what was going to happen to them.

Not that she was doing that anymore.

Well, not as often. She was trying.

Jordynne blinked away at the tears welling in her green eyes — staring up at the tacky fluorescent lighting in the public restroom.

“Hey — you okay?”

She felt Sienna’s warm fingers grab onto her wrist gently. Her coffee coloured eyes were filled with worry.

Jordynne mustered on a smile, squeezing her eyes shut to get rid of any lingering tears. “Oh, yeah yeah. I’m fine.” She reassured — sliding her phone back into her back pocket quickly, “Just my allergies with all the pollen.”

Sienna looked up at Jordynne, her eyebrows still meeting in the middle a bit from concern, “Okay.. you good to head back to the others?”

“Of course. Everything’s good.” She lied through her teeth, forcing a smile onto her face a lot easier then she thought she could.

_____________________________________________________________________

 A couple of days off in the nearby port town did Ethan a lot more good than he had expected.  Santarem was gorgeous — it had been a long time since he had been able to visit somewhere new as just that, a visitor. Not a doctor — he had no busy conferences or meetings or lectures to attend. And there were definitely no tents for taking RPDs for Malaria — thankfully he got to take a break from that.

He could barely remember the last time he had just gone somewhere to enjoy being there.

That’s why when he saw the sign for motorcycle rentals, he had marched straight towards the shop.

Now he was riding along the coastline — the wind wiping around him as the fine machine purred down the road. The green leather jacket he had purchased was still a little tight — it needed to be broken in. But he had liked the way he felt in. How he felt on the bike.

A little jolt of pain went through his face — and Ethan realized it was because he was smiling. So wide that it was hurting.

Pulling over on to the side of the road, he used the toe of his boot to put up the kickstand. Maneuvering around a few rocks he made his way to the shoreline.

He stood there for a moment — putting his hands into his jeans’ pockets and soaking in the Amazon river in all its glory.

Pulling out his phone he took a photo of the scenic view of the river. He hadn’t touched the device since he came to South America — airplane mode staying on constantly to stop any reminders of Boston to come creeping in. Then he twisted around and took a picture of his rented motorbike. The only photos of his trip so far — and they were moments he would want to remember.

Without the wind wiping around him, he felt hot in his leather jacket. Shrugging it off, he laid it out onto the sand and sat on it — his arms resting on his knees as he looked out at the water.

And then it hit him.

Miami.

Sitting on that beach with Jordynne — sharing the tiny space of his tuxedo jacket. Closing his eyes he could still remember the feeling and weight of her resting her head against his shoulder.  Or the way her green eyes had stared into his — trying so desperately to read him, to see if he was feeling the same things as her on that quiet beach.

Snapping his eyes open again, he let out a loud sigh — his eyebrows furrowing in anger with himself. He had been enjoying himself — finally, he had a moment of solace and he let that memory creep in to ruin it.

Why had it taken him so long to find that solace? Over a month of being here — away from all of it, Boston, the hospital, Naveen, her. And still, he was battling it. Constantly — every day.

His body twisted with want, and anguish and frustration.

It — they — she had so much power over him still. Even 3200 miles away in a different timezone, a different continent. And that’s what scared him the most. It terrified him. 

Ethan took a hard swallow, trying to stop the emotion that was climbing up his throat making it harder to breathe.

Part  3

[rina-writes]

Calm Waters Part 4

Part 3: x

A/N: I am v aware that there are probably like three people reading this haha However, I find it a joy to write because it’s a different style for me. (saying this for this specific part makes me feel a bit like a sociopath, but hopefully you understand that I enjoyed the experience of writing not the content itself)  So, the few of you going along for the ride as well, I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Grayson continues to spoil you after your date, but that night turns out to be an experiment day.  What you don’t know is that among the usual attendees, Ethan and Ryan are there as well hoping to expose your story.

Warnings:  Mentions of captivity, torture by electrocution, dehumanization (nothing graphic because I’m not the best writer, but still there)

When you were much younger, your mother told you about the story of water. It was your first time at the beach that you could vividly recall. Everything about that day was glorious to your six year old self: the squawking of the sea gulls, the deep, stench of the sea water, the salty taste of your dried lips from the sea spray and, of course, the cool ripple of water beneath your toes.

With her fingers raking through your hair, your mother hummed, her eyes locked on both of your feet. Her skin patched in a deep purple with flecks of silver, almost like amethyst. You found it to be much more attractive than your blue green speckles.

“Every body of water that has encountered life can tell a story.” Your mother told you. “A leaf falling in a pool to a dog jumping in a lake can all be traced in the ripples of water. Only we can listen and understand it.”

“Can you hear everything in the ocean?” You asked, staring out at the vast, deep blue waters. “Wouldn’t it be noisy?”

Your mother laughed. “It is very noisy. Not for your ears but for your skin. It’s like like tickles running up your arms and legs.” She tickled your arms making you giggle. “But those tickles tell the story of who was here, who is here and who has yet to come. Sometimes you have to block out the sounds and focus on something important.”

“Like sharks?” You asked, trembling.

As much as your mother explained that a bad shark was like a bad pit bull, a matter of circumstance and previous ownership (and also just bad PR), you were still afraid.

“Sure!” Your mother laughed. “Or a lovesick fisherman.”

Your mother gestured to your father who was behind you both setting up your spot for the day. He gave you a dorky smile and a wave before continuing to struggle with the beach umbrella.

“How do you learn to hear the water? Is it like signing?” You asked, signing as you spoke for emphasis.

“It’s a little different. It requires training, focus, and deep understanding of our culture.” Your mother smiled turning you around squatting to your eye level. “When you come of age, I’ll show you everything...”

For your “people” coming of age was 13, but that’s when your life literally went up in flames. It meant you never learned how to listen to water. Like your mother warned, it was always overwhelming, as if you were sitting in a room with a thousand people talking at once. At the same time, it was also strangely energizing. 

You realized this with Grayson the previous night. With your toes dipped in the water, your body trembled with the force of emotion coursing through your body.  It was like going to a live performance of an orchestra and hearing a classical symphony come to life before you. You could feel joy, regret, pain, there was a lot of pain, but also hope.  You wondered if the ocean was also capturing the affection that was swelling in your heart as Grayson kissed you as well.  You realized you loved the rowdiness of the sea’s voice because it showed you how much life was contained in the water outside of your cell.

Despite only getting a couple of hours of sleep, you felt the most wake and excited to start the day than you could ever remember.  As you slipped on your uniform, you smiled softly thinking about the clothes that Cameron lent you that were now in Grayson’s trunk.  You decided that hiding your toothbrush was hard enough without an entire outfit. Grayson had put it in a large reusable bag and packed it with care. He promised to fill it with all the clothes you would need for future dates. 

At first, your heart flipped with excitement before sinking to the pit of your stomach with dread.  While this was a dream come true, the stroke of midnight reminded you that it was a fantasy that was going to come to an end. You definitely couldn’t do this every day, and you hoped it wouldn’t disappoint Grayson when you rejected his next few date suggestions.  To not ruin your perfect night, you gave him a tight lipped smile and nodded. It seemed to be enough for him. Your last memory of Grayson of your first date was his lips pressed to yours and the soft whisper of “Good night.” in your ear.

Even thinking about it now, you wanted to jump for joy. You looked in the broken glass that you used as a mirror and tilted your head from side to side.  The scrunchie on your wrist was still soaking wet.  You thought about putting your hair up, but decided against it and put your hat on.  The fantasy was over, you were back to being the weird girl Aurora at Pete’s Ocean Land.

You walked past the dolphins tank,almost skipping with excitement  You swirled your hand in the water, something you only did when you really wanted their attention.  Doris head came up to receive a pet and you obliged.  You smiled at her squeaks of joy, reluctantly pulling your hand away to sign.  

As you moved your arms around in circles, you realized how limiting it was to speak in your sign language.  There were many words you didn’t know how to say, namely, “date”, “clothes” and “kiss”. However, Doris got the gist as she kept tapping her tail fin up and down.  It didn’t take much of a genius to figure out what Doris’ was signalling. You rolled your eyes, dolphins were such sexual creatures.  

You rubbed your stomach before tapping your chin and tracing a circle with your middle and index finger in the air.

I’ll bring you good food to eat next time.

Doris flipped on her back and turned in a circle. She flipped back over and spun counter clockwise.  You sputtered out a laugh beside yourself.

Bring me your pup next time.

You rolled your eyes at the sexual prowess of your dolphin friend, but also couldn’t hide your amusement. What a feeling it was to fall in love!

Your performance that day felt the best yet.  You knew it was because you felt confident and that made the dolphins in the show feel confident too. Even without the fancy clothes and makeup that Cameron had given you, you felt human again.  It was only made better when you saw a familiar lifeguard waiting for you after the arena area closed.  

Grayson waved at you, his white shirt looped around his neck so his metal whistle was hitting his bare chest.  He was wearing his bright red shorts that hung a bit lower on his waist than they should for a uniform. He had on dark sunglasses and the biggest grin as he folded his arms and leaned against the wall of the entrance. 

You found yourself running over to him like a little kid, but Grayson welcomed it.  Grayson leaned down to give you a kiss and your eyes darted from side to side.

“We’re at work...” You whispered.

“I don’t care...” Grayson whispered back with a smirk.  In one quick motion, he unfolded his arms and let his right hand grab the back of your neck at its base.  He massaged his lips into yours and you let out a sigh.  He took the opportunity to welcome his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

Without much thought, your hands were entangled in his hair and your body was pressed against his.  You both panted to get air without breaking the kiss, the sounds only arousing you more. Grayson broke the kiss almost reluctantly, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I have another date idea.” He said, his lips red and swollen. “I even got you something to wear.”

You blushed. “I don’t think I can go out so soon again.” You bit down on your lower lip nervously.

Grayson’s eyes locked on your lip and he used his thumb to release it from your teeth. He leaned in to kiss you again. As you tiptoed to push against him, he grabbed your chin and pulled you away. His eyes were intense as he looked at you, still keeping you close, but clearly trying to stop himself from getting distracted.

“Alright...” Grayson said, dejectedly. “At least let me give you the surprise.”

You frowned a bit.  Grayson took your hand and started to lead you out of the arena.  Once you were going into the open park, you let go of Grayson’s hand. He looked back at you a little hurt, but seeing the terrified look on your face discouraged him from protesting.  Grayson didn’t want to make anymore trouble for you that he already caused.

You arrived at your first destination: the staff locker room.  You never went inside as you didn’t have anything stored in there.  You waited outside and  it felt strangely invigorating.  After all, every employee stored their stuff there and you often saw people waiting outside for their friends or significant others.  For once, you were one of the cool kids waiting for someone.

Grayson emerged with a medium sized gift bag.  You blushed, realizing how conspicuous this was, but took it anyway.  Grayson led the way to your second destination: the “secret” eating spot above the cafeteria where you could open it without prying eyes.

The moment you sat down at one of the umbrella covered tables, you opened the bag. Your jaw dropped as you pulled out a black and white one piece swim suit.  It had a low scoop back with a print that was white on one side and black on the other.

“There’s more.” Grayson said, even more excited than you were.

There was a strapless, hot pink one piece that was cut quite high in the crotch.  You wondered if it would be uncomfortable.  You had seen a few girls wearing around the park, there were water rides on the other side, and so you knew it was quite trendy.  You just weren’t sure if you could pull it off.

Finally, the last item was a red bikini.  You remembered hearing string bikini in movies and tv shows, but this really lived up to the name. Still, it was quite a modest fit with round bra cups and a wider cut bikini bottom.

You stared at Grayson misty eyed. “Grayson, this is too much.”

“No, it isn’t!’ Grayson insisted.  “I hate thinking of you floating naked in that stupid tank.  While I can’t bust you out, I’m not going to let him treat you like an animal.”

‘But aren’t I?’ The bitter thought crept into your mind, but you did your best to silence. 

“Still...” You placed the last swimsuit back in the bag.  “If I were to wear this, he would know I had a contact with the outside. The ramifications of this...”

“Humor me...” Grayson practically begged.

He was leaning forward and stripes of sun brought out the gold specks in his eyes. It was unfair that he was so handsome in addition to be so kind. It made it difficult to say no to him.  You also knew deep down that when you couldn’t say no, it was because you didn’t want to say no to him. It was easy to blame him, but the fact of the matter was that you wanted to wear the clothes that he bought you.

“Alright...” You sighed. “I don’t have anywhere to hide all of these though...so I can only take one.  The rest will have to go in my clothing bag.”

Grayson grinned.  Most couples, if he was so bold as to call you two a couple, had a drawer at the other person’s place.  You had a bag in his trunk filled with outfits for your dates.  Yet, it gave him the same euphoria as having a drawer for you because in his mind it represented the same thing: that you were a part of his life.  

“Which one do you like the most?” Grayson asked, expectantly.

You dug into the bag and pulled out the black and white one. Grayson pouted teasingly.

“Of course you would choose the most conservative one.” Grayson complained, folding his arms. He leaned back in his chair, tossing his head toward the base of his neck.  “There goes my fantasies of you in a bikini.”

You blushed. “Grayson, you already saw topless.” 

Grayson’s eyes widened as he sat up suddenly, straight as an arrow. “I didn’t see anything, I swear!” He put his hands up in defense, shaking his head side to side. “Well, I saw your skin, but I didn’t look past your feet...or your arms...or your legs.”

You laughed. “You’re not really helping your case, you know?”

You watched as Grayson’s face turned red from his ears to his forehead, down the bridge of nose and fully on the apples of his cheeks. 

He reached out and grabbed your wrist, still avoiding your eyes until he pulled you out of your seat. His eyes looked almost completely gold in the direct silent and he stared at you with this sad, innocent look.  He continued to pull you toward him until the skin exposed by your shorts was touching his. You sat on his lap, something telling you that’s what he wanted.  He responded by cupping your chin and pulling you into the kiss.  Time was fleeting in that moment, the only thing breaking you apart was the sound of Grayson’s alarm going off to alert him he was already missing his shift.

~

When you got ready for “bed” that night, you were ecstatic. It reminded you of when you were younger and your mother would buy you new pajamas.  You would rush through your shower, halfheartedly go through your nightly routine, but take your time putting on your new sleep clothes.  

Today, you relished in the whole experience.  With a bit of daylight you were able to prep your hair and brush your teeth while staring in the shattered glass you used for a mirror.  In the corner of your “closet” you had tucked away your swimsuit to see if it would blend in.  There were a few cloths and towels used to keep the deck dry when the dolphins occasionally wet the top of the roof from splashing around.  If you placed your new clothing under it strategically, no one would notice. You hoped.

You put on the swimsuit slowly, relishing the smooth fabric.  You remembered hating swimsuit shopping as a teen.  It felt like a spotlight to all your friends: who was developing too fast and who wasn’t developing fast enough.  You only went once. Once your mother found out, you were banned from swimming trips for obvious reasons.  However, that one shopping experience made you grateful that for once your “condition” was working in your favor.

In contrast, this felt like a second skin.  You didn’t know much about swimsuits, but you could tell this was a decent quality.  You slipped your arm through the straps and adjusted the suit to your body.  Your turned to look at the scoop neck in the back.  It looked so good! It hugged you in the right places and made you feel like a model.  You smiled to yourself wondering if Cameron helped him to pick it out.

The sound of your cell closing snapped you to attention.  You jumped inside the tank as fast as you could, sinking to the bottom.  You hugged yourself on the way down, hoping to cover the white part of your swimsuit.  Your eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness and you opened them to watch the top of your cell close completely.  The sun was still up higher than usual, but which made you a little worried.  When you didn’t hear any footsteps on the roof, your heart started to pound.

While the experiments thrived on the element of surprise, there were signs you picked up over the years.  There was going to be an experiment tonight and Pete was going to know that someone else knew your secret.

~

Ethan scratched the back of his head as he looked in the mirror.  He looked at Ryan with a quirked eyebrow before looking back at himself.

“Ryan, there is no way anyone is going to fall for this.” Ethan said, gesturing at the blonde wig on his head.  

Ethan spent the last ten minutes adjusting the wig, but it was hard to deny the unnatural part between his wispy bangs and the bowl cut that made his head look circular.  He was wearing a tan suit that clearly didn’t fit him because they got it at a thrift store. He was also still wearing his sneakers that were beat up from skating and biking everywhere.  The only thing that made him look a little better were his glasses and backpack.  Even with that, Ethan was sure he looked more like a gigolo than a lab assistant.

Ryan, who had his disguise tailor made from previous expose series, actually looked like a scientist.  He had a sleek dark haired wig that made him look like Dracula’s sunkissed cousin, in a good way. He was wearing a properly fitted gray suit with a white button down, opened at the top two buttons.

“You will be surprised.” Ryan grinned.  “Scientists don’t dress much better than this.”

“I feel like that was just rude to scientists everywhere.” Ethan shook his head.

“Perhaps.” Ryan agreed. “But they will thank us when we reveal this to the world.  A true scientist would never let whatever Pete is doing continue, even in the name of science.  This was a great catch, E.”

Ethan nodded, but he couldn’t speak.  The costume he was wearing distracted Ethan from what was really bothering him, the truth.  With a bit of digging, it wasn’t super hard to find an underground community of “intellectuals” that liked to find and view exotic animals in captivity.  Among the listings of tigers, bears, and rare snakes, there was a posting with an address nearby to Pete’s Ocean Land.   It advertised an exclusive viewing of a rare species you had to see to believe.  Up front, it cost $10,000 to view, a deterrent for most people on the site.  It shocked Ethan that Ryan easily coughed up $20,000 for their attendance.

“If this is what we think it is, we will get our return, ten fold.” Ryan explained with a shrug.

Still, that was as much as Ethan and Grayson had left to raise to get to Los Angeles. With Grayson splurging on swimsuits for you, even Ethan was starting to have dark thoughts on how to make money using your unique gifts.  He shook the thoughts out of his head.  Not only would exploiting you hurt you, but it would hurt both of his siblings who had taken a liking to you. There was, of course, the fact that Ethan himself enjoyed the fact that you made Grayson happy and he was certain he would be good friends with you too if he hadn’t been spending all his time trying to save you.

When Pete took the money and sent them the meeting location, Ethan wasn’t surprised. He was sure that Pete would have asked for more if he could reveal what the “exotic creature” was, but using the term “mermaid” would ruin all chances of keeping this under wraps.  

With their luck, Pete happened to have a showing planned that night.  It made Ethan grateful that you and Grayson had your date the night before.  Ethan worried what would have happened if Pete revealed his “monster” and you were nowhere to be found.  In his humiliation, Pete could do unthinkable things to you upon your return.

“You ready?” Ryan asked, adjusting his suit jacket more out of habit than necessity.

“Let’s go, boss.” Ethan said, trying to rehearse his character.

“It’s doctor, assistant.” Ryan corrected with a smirk.  “Now remember, the eye glasses are going to capture everything you see and maybe even better than you see it.  The pen in your lapel will capture audio as well.  I will also have the same equipment, so don’t worry if something malfunctions.  The tech is pretty advanced, so don’t feel like you have to move closer to capture anything better.  Act natural.”

“Got it, doctor.” Ethan said, teasingly.

Ryan nodded and they locked up the shop.  They got into a rental car they got for the occasion and drove to the meet up location, a cafe near to Pete’s Ocean Land.  Ethan could hear his heart thundering in his ears.  He debated telling Grayson what was going on, but he didn’t want to worry his twin without a guarantee of relief.  Keeping this secret from Grayson and keeping the truth from Ryan at the same time made Ethan’s head want to explode.  He steadied himself by holding his knees as they drove in the car.  In a few minutes, it would all be revealed.

~

You pressed your hands against the bottom of your cell.  The water felt extremely heavy today, like it was actually trying to crush you. You knew that you were actually feeling your own fear in the water.  It was surging out of you and stinging your nerves.  This was the life story of your water: pain, fear, coldness and...

His warmth

You felt it. It was a little tremor of softness in the water.  Almost every part of your body felt like it was being strangled, but right in the center of your chest was a softness.  It was the moment when you and he realized the other wasn’t a threat.  It was the warmth of happiness.

Just as the water started to lighten up, a bright light stung your eyes.  You didn’t scream, as that would have caused you to fill with water.  After all, you still had lungs, just a breathing capacity greater than the average human.  You laid still on the bottom of the tank, still under the pressure of the water.  You couldn’t see or hear anything.  You assumed it was for the better.  How disgusting would it be to hear how your uncle sold you to others as a monster?

You wondered if the person who brought you toothpaste was there. They figured out how to access the roof and would often leave it at the side of your tank.  They would whisper apologies to you that you never accepted, with words nor with your heart. After all, they were as much to blame as anyone else.

The hate in your heart made the water unbearable and it only caused the light to sting your head even more.  You did your best to keep your eyes shut. A happy place no longer existed during times like these. Instead you counted from 1 to 1000.  Like clockwork, the pain would start around 50.

~

Pete met Ethan and Ryan at the cafe looking nothing like himself.  He too was wearing a disguise, but Ethan found it foolish.   Pete looked ridiculous with a fake bald head cap, a prosthetic potbelly and a few false moles on his cheek and chin. Ethan resisted adjusting his glasses to ensure that the future audience got a better look. 

Pete looked at them before his face split in half with a smile. “You boys chose a great time to reach out.  These showings are usually varied for security reasons.”

“We understand.” Ryan confirmed, his voice sounding raspier than usual.  If you didn’t know it was Ryan, however, the voice sounded natural. “We know how difficult things in our business can be.”

“You said it best doctor!” Pete commended him.  “Now, what sorts of research are you interested in?”

“Oh, I am looking for unknown species.” Ryan said, a tip from Ethan who said that he believed whatever Pete was hiding was something no one had ever imagined.  “Or at least extremely rare.”

Even with the disguise, it was easy to see Pete’s face light up. He licked his lips as he started walking, gesturing for the two men to follow.

“Then you are in the right place Dr. Schwartz.” Pete said, using the undercover name Ryan chose with ease.

Ethan did his best to figure out his surroundings.  While it looked like they were going into a facility concealed by trees and protected by industrial fences, Ethan recognized it easily as the back of Pete’s Ocean Land.  It was far from where neighborhood kids would sneak in, and a lot more secure.  There were no gaps in fences and the actual entrance required a key to get in. When they entered through the large, opaque gray gate, they were immediately met with a back door.  More locks and typing into keypads ensued as Ethan and Ryan trailed Pete behind long hallways.

They finally saw a room with light at the end of the hall and walked into to see a few more people sitting in chairs.  Some were holding cups of water or coffee, while others seemed to be more preoccupied with their phone.  Ethan looked around, smiling softly to look friendly while also making sure to capture everyone’s faces. There were about six people including Ryan and Ethan that were at this viewing and Ethan didn’t recognize any of them.  He wondered how far people came to see this “mysterious, rare creature.”

“Thank you for coming here today, honored guests.” Pete said, jovially.  He was putting on an accent, but Ethan couldn’t place it.  It was like watching a terrible school play where the teacher takes on the lead role and butchers it.  “I will not bore you with semantics, but we have newcomers so I must tell you the rules.”

Pete walked to the center of the room where all eyes were on him.  In the lighting, his disguise looked every more fake, but so did everyone else.  It made sense.  If there were real scientists in here, no one would want to be associated with something like this.

“Number one, no pictures or video.  It ensures the safety of the animal during testing.”

‘Animal?’ Ethan thought, his stomach curdling.  He controlled his rage, trying to relax his eyebrows and jaw from their current tense state.  Under no circumstances would he ruin this operation before they saw their mission through.

“Number two, this is a closed community.  All leads to potential viewers must be put through me.” Pete gestured with open hands around the room. “Please don’t ruin this experience for your fellow enthusiasts by potentially letting in a mole.”

Ethan was glad there wasn’t a lie detector because even he was aware at how much he was sweating.  His throat was getting dry, but he dared not cough at such a terrible time.

“Number three, no speaking of this in writing on any forum outside of messages to me.  You may speak to each other, in person, but avoid phone calls.  Anything can be traced and will ruin the opportunity for future viewings.”

Pete clapped his hands together.  “I know the rules are boring, but are there any questions before we get started?”

“What about private viewings?” Someone from the back asked.

Pete’s smile morphed into something so twisted and evil that Ethan could only describe it as his face splitting in two.  Ethan knew that there was going to be very few things that could scare him more than the sick look on Pete’s face.

“Yes, those are available on request at $20,000 for half an hour.” Pete explained matter-of-factly.  

“Isn’t that quite steep?” Ryan asked, putting up his hand.

Pete gestured to Ryan with his thumb, looking at the rest of the group. “Newcomers, am I right?”

There was light laughter, but it was forced and most likely laced with guilt.  Without any other questions, Pete led the group down more twisting and turning hallways.  It looked so much like Pete’s Ocean Land to Ethan and, he was sure, anyone from his area would agree when the video came out.

Finally, the stopped at a dark tank. The anticipation was building.  For Ethan it was like coming into a movie theater and waiting for the previews to start.  Pete walked to the back and hit a switch. A light from the bottom of the tank, a gasp leaving both Ryan and Ethan’s lips simultaneously.

When Grayson told Ethan how you looked that night, Ethan wasn’t sure what to make of it. Now that he saw it in person, he understood why Grayson’s description was all over the place.  

How could someone describe something so beautiful? 

If Ethan were to attempt it, he would equate it to looking for gems in rocks.  He watched a few videos online of people searching canyons for amethyst.  They would feel the thickness of a rock and inspect closely.  Then with a hammer, the would hit and chip away at the thick gray block until in broke open.  The viewers’ eyes were instantly flooded by gorgeous, sparkling purple that dazzled the mind.  

That was the only way Ethan could describe your skin. 

In uneven patches, there were turquoise colored gem-like patches all over your body. Your hair looked dark blue in the lighting, swirling around as you remained in your tight, curled up position. In the darkness of the deep water, it was easy to imagine how you would blend in from above, however, under this harsh light there was nowhere to hide. 

“Our newcomers, I present to you a real life mermaid.” Pete announced with a chuckle.  “Very little is known about them.  How many there are, how they came to be, how dangerous..., but I can tell you what we know.”

Ethan glanced at Ryan who was stone cold.  Sure, it was obvious that the thing they were staring at did not look like anyone else in this room.  However, it was clear that it had legs and other human limbs.  It was a young girl, and the tightness in Ryan’s face showed that he knew that.

Pete continued as he walked to the side of the tank.  He squinted at the hunched over figure as if noticing something strange, but he didn’t address.  Instead, he stood in front of a control center. There were four levers, multiple buttons in different colors and absolutely no labels.

“What we do know is that, they have legs like us and when dry, they blend in with the rest of us.  However, in water, they are magnificent.  While we haven’t had the joy of cutting one open...”

Ethan quelled a gasp at that remark.

“...we do have reason to believe that they have lungs.  They grow the capacity to survive underwater.  The specimen you see here could only last underwater for eight hours without drowning when she was first rescued.  Now, she can go for as long as 27 hours.”

Tears stung Ethan’s eyes.  Rescued? What a load of bull.  He couldn’t help, but feel sorry for you.  How long were you trapped in there when you couldn’t breathe? Did you scream? Did he watch you suffer?

“They are also incredible swimmers.  We will see that in the next few tests.” Pete paused, as if he was getting ahead of himself.  “In fact, let me just show you now...”

tw: mentions of abuse, panic attacks, electrocution

Ethan could feel himself sweating again as the sound of his heartbeat became deafening. His head felt like it was going to split open at his forehead with a warm heat settling at the center of it.  He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them from shaking and he glanced around to see everyone else’s reactions.  It was stone cold.  It was like they were waiting for the bus or sitting through the intermission of their kids game. Ryan was the only one as terrified as Ethan, but Ethan knew that only he could tell.

Pete hit a button on his control panel, his eyes locked on the crowd. Behind him, your body twitched violently, almost involuntary.  You released yourself from your crunched position your legs flailing.  Your arms soon followed suit and you were rushing toward the top of the tank.

“If you come closer...” Pete said, gesturing with his hands for people to come forward, without looking back at you.  “You can see how it naturally glides through the water. Almost like flippers.”

“But those are feet...” Ryan asked, as he moved closer along with the rest of the group.  “Feet of a girl?”

Pete scoffed. “We try not to anthropomorphize the creature.”

Ethan’s eyes bulged out of his head.  Well, someone clearly swallowed a dictionary in an effort to justify his bigotry. What an asshole.

“Besides, a human can not do what I am about to show you.” Pete hit another button and Ethan watched in horror as you slowly started to fall to the bottom of your cell.

~

Hot. Hot. Hot.

That’s what it felt like, but all over your skin.  You assumed it was little bits of electricity, which was already damaging to anything in water.  However, for you those little bursts was like getting pricked with a thousand thorns.  Even at the lowest of voltages it was like getting pins and needles after your foot fell asleep. The pain came from the bottom of your cell, so you always swam upward to get some relief.  

This time, you were determined to free yourself. You were attempting to go through the crack at the top of your cell. Your fingers even felt a bit of the cool air.  Hope quelled in your heart as Grayson’s face flashed in your mind.

Then suddenly another large shock ripped through your cell.  

This one you could see.  It was a white flash that went diagonally across the opening of your cell. You could feel it, splitting your arm that was extended out toward your freedom.  You didn’t want to lose air, so you focused on holding your breath, falling down like leaf to the bottom of your cell, cradling you arm.

You couldn’t see anything with the bright lights flashing into your cell, but you could see your blood, a very dark red color mixing with the water. Through your squinted eyes, you could see your skin covering itself with it’s turquoise patterned scales, trying to rebuild.  It wasn’t something you could control and it only happened when you were in water. You shivered thinking about how you learned these two facts about yourself.  The knives jammed into your thighs and dragged down to your legs, while your screams were silenced with the help of a balled up towel shoved between your lips.  

As the memories of private experiments on the viewing table flooded your mind, you were almost grateful to be inside of your cell.  In comparison this stuff was a cake walk and the show had just begun.

~

“What human do you know that can heal like that?” Pete asked Ryan.  “That’s what I thought.” Pete didn’t leave Ryan any room to even respond before he added in that jab.

“Think about how many lives it could save...” Pete said to the rest of the crowd.  “Soldiers, burn victims, skin cancer survivors...the best technology we could ask for.”

Another button was pushed, another electric shock.  This one was so painful, your eyes opened wide as slashes appeared on your legs and upper arms.  Ethan closed his eyes, but didn’t turn away in an effort to allow the viewers to see the horror.  He would never be able to get your eyes out of his mind.  Under water, your eyeballs were a dark blue with no sign of pupils, with little streaks of gold striping through it.  It was almost like looking at a Greek statue where you couldn’t actually see the details of your eyes.

And yet, he could see so much pain.

tw end

The moment the “show” was over, Ethan was secretly texting Grayson on his phone.  It wasn’t easy. He was alternating from angling his body to different sides, using the shadows of the room to conceal his behavior.  

Ethan knew that if he were caught by Pete, this would ruin everything.  However, there was no time.  The last few tests left you unresponsive.  Ethan was sure that Pete was not done with you.  Pete had to see his guests off to prevent any wandering, but once people were gone, you were going to experience hell.  

With a final few taps, Ethan slipped his phone into his pocket as casually as he could.

“Can I ask you more about the private showing?” Ethan asked, and Pete smiled, greedily. 

“I’ll give you all the options and their prices...” Pete agreed.

~

This was the worst part. When the lights turned off and you realized you were all alone.  Your body was trying to rebuild itself while your mind did its best to keep you under water. It was hard to hold your breath when you were in so much pain, but you needed to heal in order to escape and you couldn’t heal if you were drowning.

The sound of the top of tank being slowly cranked open caused a gasp to rip from you, taking your last bits of oxygen.  As you swam to the top to get air, you realized that this would put you face-to-face with Pete, the first time in years since actually truly seen your uncle.  Everything was coming back to you: the pain, the torture, the abandonment, and it only made you angrier. 

You decided this was it.  You were going to finally fight back.

[naomixhill]

“Aren’t you the one who got expelled from DeSales?” These were the first words that you said to me as you approached me at David’s bonfire in 2011. We were seventeen years old. A group of us came here after a Friday night football game. There were a handful of neighborhoods in our village, perhaps five important ones, but the one we were in that night was the best – the one where sophistication meets elegance meets English-inspired architecture. There was a twenty-seven Jack Nicklaus golf course in front of David’s home. Inside the house was a grand reception room, medium sized ballroom, martini parlor, two dueling libraries, a small art gallery, and a wine cellar. Throughout the home, opulence of the tenth degree: marble floors and 18’ high ceilings and two servants. Just beyond where I was sitting, there was a heated pool, veranda, and small tennis court. Jews get everything. This whole village was Jews, new money snobs, and plastic surgery. But I never minded.

 You repeated the question, “Hellooooo, Naomi, right?” I looked up at you with red, glossy eyes. I was stoned, and David’s two servants had been serving Cabernet since we got there. I smirked, raised my head at you, and said, “Who’s asking?” You extended your hand and introduced yourself with the charismatic, all consuming smile that I would one day become familiar. I did not return the warm reception; I had a magical sadness about me that year that began with the death of my rapist and ended with my name being the topic of more than one scandal. I hardly remember much of the year at all, but I remember meeting you there that night. In That Place.

 You acted like you were meeting a celebrity. You mentioned a few of the rumors that spread around DeSales about me, most of which were incredibly true, and I told you that night, “It doesn’t matter what people say about you unless you believe it.” You told me that you had just transferred to the village school and that you were incredibly lucky: You lived in a modest home on the edge of town that had not been seized by Wexner for further construction of his brick empire. I was completely awestricken by you. You were so bold, so empowered to speak truth, so nonchalant in the way you spoke, and had this magnetic flowerchild persona. If it hadn’t been for you that night, I would have drank alone at the firepit of David’s home. It was true that I was still frequently invited to events that year and next, but I was never really one of these people and I always remained on the outskirts of parties and social gatherings. When the night ended, I told you not to talk to me again. You needed a fighting chance to assimilate in this odd, wealthy village school that was more reminiscent of an episode of Gossip Girl than a place in Ohio. You were never going to get that if you associated with me.

                                                       ~

We reconnected in February 2014. It was a historically brutal winter in Ohio, frequently closing down the university, and I was frailer at 106 lbs, more contemplative, and battling an autoimmune disorder that was so severe that I was sure it would have killed me. Looking back on it now, there is no doubt in my mind that your antithesis to everything that I was saved me. From the moment we reconnected, there was rarely a moment that we were apart. Every morning, you held back my hair as I spent the morning vomiting into a dormitory toilet. When I would try to crawl back into bed, you would force me into a warm bath, lay out clothes for me, and often blow-dry my hair when I was too weak to do so myself. Without fail, and for the entire semester, you would walk me to the cafeteria, watch me eat breakfast, and we would undoubtedly end up back on the bathroom floor for several more hours. But you’d still make sure that I attended my afternoon classes, even if that meant sitting on the business halls’ floors in effort to see that I didn’t leave. You were the only person who knew how bad my health had gotten that year.

 Because to everyone else, I was confident and had accomplished in my studies precisely what I had in my social circle of business students—complete mastery, complete command. I was fastidious, wearing almost exclusively Brooks Brothers button downs that tucked into dark colored slacks or designer jeans, and carried myself with an air of superiority that few ever questioned. In school and in the finance society, I was the best. I maintained a portfolio of investments that had achieved a 56% return that year, and when I shared my opinion on what our club should be investing in, I was rarely wrong. It awed some, and frustrated many male egos that couldn’t understand it. I was an excellent financial analyst to be, interviewing at several bulge bracket investment banks in New York and Chicago that year. And when anyone questioned me or alluded that I couldn’t possibly being doing as well as I was, I would raise my prominent nose nostrils at them and say nothing at all.

 I didn’t dress, walk, talk, or play like other college students did. I was incredibly aloof and malicious, whereas you were a never-ending ray of sunshine. You were bohemian and buoyant and wise all wrapped into a blonde package of beauty. My persona was much more overpowering and chilling. Yet, you liked me, and you held my secret, and no one ever questioned why you—the special education major—were in the business hall at 2 pm, 4 pm, 8 pm, and 10 pm everyday. In fact, most of my companions that year really preferred you to me and it was often a relief to have you there as a shield.

 In the summer of 2015, we moved into an off campus apartment in what would be considered the Chinatown of Columbus, Ohio. With my full-time job in financial services and lucrative investments from the prior year, I had tried to convince you to live downtown in a high-rise apartment, but you wouldn’t have it. You always wanted to pay your own way, and Chinatown was what you could afford. So we lived there with Ethan Allen furniture, your bohemian nonsensical decorations, including a plethora of crystals, bags of cannabis, and music posters. By the end of the summer, I was showing signs of recovery, though the months of medical bills had put me in a tougher spot financially than before. I was still able to casually pay our rent and fixed expenses, afford food, and pay my own tuition without much concern. Though it was in September that everything changed.

 You worked at a Bob Evan’s right behind the university that summer to save for college, but you had racked up $17,000 on a credit card that was accruing monthly interest. You wanted to save, but you were forced to pay that down and there was never an expense that you met that you didn’t like. It has always been who you are: you spend too much on others, too much on holiday decorations, too much on latest clothing styles, too much online, too much on fast food, just too much. So even though you worked your sixty hours a week until that political bill made everyone like you work thirty-seven and a half hours and not a moment more, you couldn’t make tuition. And I couldn’t help you.

 I remember one night we were in Cincinnati for a Cal Scruby concert when the idea came to me. I said, “There are a lot of girls in Pi Phi that I know that use this escort site to make fast cash, and you are much prettier and have a much better personality.” So while we waited for the concert to begin, we turned the Marriott hotel room into a glamorous studio for photos, and wrote you a descriptive, alluring profile on that website. Looking back on this now, I am not sure what I was thinking except that it seemed like a perfectly sensible thing to do, and everyone else was doing it. An older, established Cleveland man solicited you within the hour. You planned to meet him later that week. A thousand dollars just like that.

 But that fateful morning, you confessed that you couldn’t do it. And I knew then that if you didn’t return to school that semester, you might never. And I thought about your credit card debt, your newly broken down car, and your ambitions slipping away from you. And I couldn’t let you, the brilliant bohemian with so much to offer to the world, possibly lose it all that easily. So I knew what this all meant for me, but the way I saw it, and still see it, is that it was the least I could do for the person who likely saved my life. So I became you: I went to a hair salon that day and dyed my harsh, almost black hair, to bleach blonde; I bought extensions; I bought baby blue eye contacts; I used makeup to manipulate a small mole on my cheek; I contoured my face, used drugstore eyelashes, and it was convincing enough. That night, I wore a pink kimono with ripped jeans and pale high heels. I wasn’t nearly as tall as you, but I hoped our Cleveland man wouldn’t notice. And he didn’t. And that was that.

 These visits continued twelve times, and we never spoke about them. It was our next big secret, and one I never planned to mention them to a soul. Your fall tuition was paid and I was relatively healthy, and we had our oasis in Chinatown. Everything was finally alright, it seemed, until December.

 There was only one problem: That Piece of Shit Heroin Addict. Back in the summer before the school year began, you had met Josiah. Perhaps it was my jealously of losing part of you, but I never took to him. You could have had any of my friends majoring in finance – we both know that they all loved you, and could have given you the life you wanted – but you chose him. I am certain that your biggest flaw has always been loving flawed people and thinking that you could positively influence the outcome of their lives’ through love and belief alone. Josiah was everything that I loathed about a person: he was uncouth to a fault, sported a horribly unkempt appearance with long, blonde, greasy and tangled hair, had terribly patchy facial hair, had lightly yellowed teeth from years of smoking and drug abuse. Best of all, he drove a sports car. His family was from the neighboring county, and in Ohio, if you don’t live in the capital county, you might as well live in the middle of a fucking farm wasteland infested with heroin, blue-collar jobs, and Mountain Dew.

 I tolerated this boy in the summer because you loved him. But it worried me when you would come home at 3 a.m. with him and his cronies, and they would all end up sprawled out on the floor of our apartment. These people were not good enough for you, and they brought you down with them. I would have done anything to better myself that year—I associated myself with the most elite people our university could offer, all of whom today ended up becoming prominent investment bankers and private equity directors, some traveling internationally, some making over half a million dollars annually – but you always found yourself attracted to the bottom.

 He manipulated you. He told you lies about me, and made you think differently about me. He fed you drugs. He sedated your sunshine and stole your youth. And then in December, he convinced you that I was nothing more than a haughty, arrogant, self-serving person, which perhaps was right to some degree, but never with you, and that you needed to leave. So one night in December, when I was traveling, you stole everything out of our apartment – right down to the kitchen table and bath curtains – and left me to come home to nothing. You never returned my calls or texts, and it was more than a year before I ever got an explanation.

You went from my fascination to my friend to my caregiver to my roommate and best friend to my deepest regret.

 In fact, for the next six years, you tried to contact me sporadically, pleading for forgiveness, but there was nothing that I could offer you. At times, you would comment on my life events that you could see through social media. You told me how happy I looked in my wedding photos, but little did you know for those four years that I was getting beaten, evens sometimes being held at gunpoint, literally; you told me how successful I had become from my work, but little did you know that I was facing more than one harassment suit; you would tell me you were happy that my life had become so wonderful, but you had no idea that at the very time you sent that, that I was sitting in a hospital waiting to be radiated for cervix cancer. And through all of it, I thought of you frequently, sometimes spitefully, sometimes with more regret than a person can carry, sometimes with fondness.

                                                        ~

But I never returned any of your correspondence until last week. And now, here we are at a Panera in a rundown suburb, and I am staring right at you. The passage of time has not been your friend: you wear bold framed glasses that remind me of Buddy Holly. Pregnancy has turned your beautiful blonde hair into an ashy brown shade and your long, cascading curls have been cut into curly short strands. You have gained perhaps thirty or forty pounds, hidden under a large, flowing hippy blouse – so that has remained, your style.

 When I approach you, you throw your arms around me for what feels like an eternity. I had planned to dig into you; I had wanted you to feel the internal war that has been raging inside of me since your departure. But I can’t do it. As you pull away from our embrace, you try to speak but your lower lip trembles. Your eyes are red and strained and you weep as you grab for my hand. People around us begin to stare, but my sole focus is on you. I suppose it always has been. You begin a long soliloquy of apology, that at times is so incoherent and sincere, I can only help but think that this has eaten away at you for as long as it has me. So I don’t chide you for abandoning me, I simply smile and say, “I Forgive You.”

 As we catch up, it seems our friendship is a marker in time for you much like it is for me. There was before you, you, and after you. Your “after you” is dark – things have been much harder for you for the past six years than they have for me. One unplanned pregnancy, another planned pregnancy, multiple lost jobs, government assistance, an alcoholic partner, and death threats galore. It is hard to imagine the young bohemian that I once knew has achieved such a disappointing life. You never finished college and you work as a PSA in a hospital. You mentioned repeatedly how tired you are, and I see you: it’s a spiritual exhaustion that knows no bounds. It is the type of exhaustion that one can only feel when they have done nothing that they set out to do in life. I am familiar.

 I often take your hand in mine. We talk until the Panera closes, and then promise to meet again soon.

[raspberrywiskey]

every month or so i think about ethan chandler too hard and get so upset i feel physically ill