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mo2k · 3 years

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Imagine…you meeting the pillars for the first time💕. (pt.9)

No.9 : Tokitou Muichiro

Pairing : Muichiro x <fem> reader

Warnings : None, just fluffed <3

Note- Hello lovelies!I hope ya’ll like this,Mui-kun is just so cute! >///<

Synopsis : Ok,this can go 2 ways…

1.If you’re a pillar…

>This is the first day of your work as a pillar,Oyakata-sama had held a meeting with all the other pillars to introduce you.But there was one pillar that has caught your attention the most…and that is ‘Tokitou Muichiro’ or the mist pillar.Something…something in him make you want to know him more or…perhaps…even befriend him…

2.If you’re a normal demon slayer/citizen/medic and etc.

>You two would be strangers. (At first!,At first!Just you wait…👀) Maybe you’ve walked past him once or twice,but you never get the chance to talk to him-but the same feeling (from above-if you’re a pillar) was still there…

Now,let’s get to the story-whatever you are!

You’re strolling around an open field near the demon slayer headquarters,trying to relax yourself from all the stresses you’ve got from works…

Your mind was blanked as you stared at the sky absent-mindedly while dragging your legs boringly…that was until you had caught something at the corner of your eyes.You quickly shot your head towards that direction you think you saw something and-oh…look what you found💓…

It was the mist pillar…lying under the tree to hide from the hot sun that can burn deep into your skin if you stay out for too long.He’s also-staring at the sky absent-mindedly,exactly what you’ve just done earlier.

You blinked at him,curious to why would the mist pillar would be here.You tilted you head to the side slightly,trying hard-to figure out why would he be here…if he didn’t cut you off your thoughts first…

Muichiro : “…What are you doing?” He speak,not that loud but just enough for you to hear.But-well,he didn’t even take a glance at you when he speak…making you even more curious about him…

But then…that’s when you realized…oh boy…he’d just caught you staring…you were too distracted to noticed what you’ve done…

(Y/n) : “Oh!I-uh…um…” You stammered over your own words,an uneasy feeling sat in your stomach.You are-no doubt,super embarrassed since you’ve just stared,at the stranger-who you haven’t even speak a word with…You starting to look away-trying to find some good excuses that maybe-could help you out of this situation…

Muichiro : He closed his eyes and then sighed, “Stop.I don’t mind it…you can go.But just…don’t stared at the strangers with no permissions,ok?”. His tone was not cold nor arrogant-just a normal tone.But dang-his words sometimes…could be as sharp as a knife…

Whatever-this just make you even more embarrassed that your cheeks staring to get hot.You bit your lip before apologize him, “I understand…and I’m so sorry…” You bowed slightly.He just nodded and raised his hand to wave as a gesture for you to go away already.But will you really?Hm…I don’t know? (😂)

You blinked several times at his gesture-he will just let you like this?So easily?Really?Can that be called as a little rude? (But girl-I think you forgot that you two were still strangers =<=)

Well-you just stand there for a moment.Trying to muster up your confidence-and without a word…you slowly walk towards him…He didn’t move,didn’t even open his eyes to see what was coming…but you knew that he can sense something’s coming…

At last,when you are here-standing in front of him…and peering intently in to his face…that’s when he finally open his eyes…

Muichiro : “What?” This time his tone got a bit annoyed,but his face still wore that emotionless expression…

(Y/n) : You took a deep breath-before asking, “What are you doing?”.

There was a stunned silence between you two for a moment….It was a stupid question and you know that…but you still couldn’t help yourself as you peered into his blue orbs in anticipation,trying to guess what he was thinking at the moment…He still shows no emotion but you can tell from his slightly widen eyes that he was surprised and taken aback by your question…

Muichiro : “What?” He raised his eyebrow. “What are you doing?” You ask again, “Why do you want to know?” He question back-narrowing his eyes threateningly…but you thought it was cute… (lol🤣)

(Y/n) : “Just wondering…” You chuckled a bit,didn’t even realized that your lips have curled up into a small smile. “Just go way” he clicked his tongue. And you rolled your eyes playfully,you crouched down to his level- “Can I joined you then?Whatever you’re doing” . “You won’t listen anything,will you?” He growled. “I don’t know~” you winked down at him,a mischievous smile plastering your face.

Muichiro : He sighed again, “Do whatever you pleased…” He said finally,turn his body to his side-facing away from you. “Yay!” You cheered,and you swore you can hear him snickered to himself.

(Y/n) : “Did you just snicker?Oh man~I don’t know you can do that~” you teased him as you let yourself plopped down to the fresh green grass. “No” he answered,and you giggled.

You’re now fully lay down on the grass,looking at the blue sky dotted with clusters of clouds.You grinned widely before pointing your index finger at one bunch of fluffy clouds that look like mash mellow. “Can you see that Muichiro-kun?” He turned to lying on his back again,and take a look of the clouds…and then at you…

“It looks like a dragon,don’t you think?” You shifted you gaze to him too,just in time to see that he was also looking at you…You blinked at him, “What’s wrong?” You asked after a moment,a little nervous. “How do you know my name?” His eyes are a bit wide,and you’ve just relaized that you’ve been holding your breath…but after you hear his question…you started laughing…

(Y/n) : “Ah-hahahaha!How do I know your name!?Well,it’s just so obvious-hahaha!You’re the mist pillar remember?” You have to cover your mouth with your hand to calm yourself down-bit it’s just so funny!You can’t help it…

Muichiro : He just lay there,still dumbfounded and confused….how can someone remember his name even when they haven’t even talk?Now he’s confused,really confused,he can never remember something for more than 5 minutes…so,how did you just know his name exactly???

“I…don’t…um…quite understand what you’re talking about…” It take a while for him to open his mouth to talk again…and you just laugh even harder…

Oh~He start to get angry~ “Hey!Stop laughing!What’s so funny!?” He raised his voice, “I-haha!oops-I-I’m sorry-haha!I-just can’t help it-hahaha!” You managed to choke your words out-but that doesn’t make him feel any better.

Muichiro : “Whatever!I don’t care about you anymore!” He huffed,too embarrassed and angry to speak…When you’re starting to calm down, “Ok,ok,I’m sorry!” You told him,but still smiling-he was so adorable looking like this. OwO

He made a ‘tch’ sound and turn his head away-and you rolled your eyes, “Fine!Alright,I’m sorry-Really Sorry.It’s my fault-please forgive me!How about this?Let’s go eat some food or sweets,my treat!What do you think?”

He quickly turned to you,his hands finding yours fast.He gripped your hands together tightly around his while saying “Really!?” excitedly. He has shifted closer to you,too close! 0///0 Your nose almost touched-Ahhhhhhh-.And you slowly nodded,blushing hard,his face immediately lit up (like an adorable child🥺)-this was the first time you got to see him grinned widely,his face tinted a bit pink from excitement. “Oh,ok!You’re forgiven!” He hugged you tightly-and you froze…

(Y/n) : You feel hot spark through your body,the feeling of him hugging you-his warmth that radiate from his small frame,his breathing on your neck,and his cute face that just mushed to your shoulder-Arhhhhhhh,this is too much,TOO MUCH!Muichiro-kun!Get away!Get away!Quick!Our dear (y/n) is almost fainted!Fscbnkfsxzcht-!!!! @////@

Then he realized that he might have just hud you a bit too tight-he loosen his arms,while look up to you worriedly… “Did I hurt you?” He ask quietly…. (Such an adorable child-ahhhhhhhh /////)

(Y/n) : You quickly shook your head- “Oh no no!You didn’t hurt me at all!” You hug him again-trying to hide your red embarrassed face…He hugged you back,relieved.

“Now,okay…what do you see in those clouds?” You pulled away from the hug,pointed to one group of clouds again-trying to change the subject,he quickly look to that direction- “Where?” Then he see a bunch of clouds,cling together in a shape like cat… “I see cats…” he said, “Really?I think I see (something of your choice)…’Cause-Oh!What about those!?” You said cheerily,smile a little to yourself…

What you didn’t know was…he take a look at you again-this time chuckle a bit and smile back,thinking of how beautiful and pretty you look when you smile…Then he paused… ‘Wait…what am I thinking?’ He started to blush…. “Hey…um…what’s your name by the way?” He asks shyly…

(Y/n) : You turn your head to look at him,before blinked and pointed to yourself- “Me?” You question for confirmation…and he nodded “Yes,you…What’s your name?”

You smile, “(l/n) (y/n),nice to meet you tokitou-san” You pull your hand out, “So am I…” he answered,also smile back.

“Tell me about yourself more”,he said. “Huh?But it’s quite long,you sure you wanna listen?” You said back. “I’m sure…” he respond. “Well then,fine!…But only on one condition…”. “What is it then?” He demanded. You grinned playfully, “You must tell yours too!”. He snorted, “Only that?”. “Yes!” You persist. “Alright,alright…I’ll tell you everything-if I can remember them or they aren’t nothing too personal…” He trailed off… “Then how about we talked about clouds too!?Like you tell me what you see and I’ll also mine!Sounds fun!” You suggest. “Sure,why not?” He shrugged, “Ah ha!” You laughed,and he bit back his smile…

Anyway-you guys just talked on and on and on (getting to know each other more and many more things else-ooh~✨) until you both starting to get hungry so you guys go to the town to find something to eat (Your treat as promised lmao😂).You have so much fun together and so does he too!You two end up,running around like children while also hold each other’s hand tightly…

You two don’t want this day to end…but alas,everything must come to an end…The sun was starting to disappear,the once blue sky has turned into a pink-red.It’s time for you to say goodbye… “Hey,Muichiro-kun…” You called out, “Hm?” was all he answered… “Looks like it’s time for me to go…” you replied…And his face fell almost immediately… “Already?” He ask,gripping your hands tighter-he was,um…actually pouting as if he doesn’t want you to go…He looks like he wanted to cry,omg- 0///0

You looked at him sadly… “Yes…but don’t worry,I can come to play with you tomorrow!” You tried to light up the mood, “Really?” He asked excitedly. “Of course!” You laughed, “Then…I’ll see you tomorrow,at the same spot we meet today,ok?” He quickly nodded.You let go of his hand-while saying “Goodbye then!See ya!” You told him before you turned your heels and starting to run back to your home-“Wait” he cried from behind,and you twisted your neck to look at him.

“Goodbye to you too (y-y/n)!” He stuttered,and you both gasped at the same time.He covered his mouth with one of his hand,stunned,shocked or surprised he doesn’t know-but all he know was…He can remember your name after all this time that has passed… “M-Muichiro-kun…” you started slowly… “You did it!You finally did it!You can remember my name!I always know you can!” You cheered excitedly while laughing joyfully, “Yes!Ah haha!I can do it!” He began to laugh too,and after some moments and you two can finally calm yourself…You waved your hand, “Goodnight to you then” you state finally… “Goodnight too…” he waved back….

You two shared one last grinned at each other,before you turned and go onto your way again…Leaving him looking down while a happy smile plastering on his face… ‘I’ll always remember you (y/n)…’ Was his last thought as he also took off back to his estate…

To Muichiro,this is something very special…He used to feel a bit lonely before…But now he doesn’t anymore,‘cause he’s got you right by his side anywhere and anytime he needs you or you needs him… In other words… “He’s not alone anymore”….

Ahhhhh,we’ve finally come to the last part of “Imagine…you meeting the pillars for the first time💕!” The next one’s “Imagine…you meeting the kamaboko squad for the first time!” as my dear @yui-san0 has requested!♥️I love you so much my dear,pls take care of yourself love!🥺💖💞

Lastly,I wanted to say “Thank You So Much!” out loud for everyone here.I know that I did bad in the last part but I’ll try to get better I promise!❣️I love you guys so so much,pls have a great day/night,take care and don’t overwork yourself!🥰💖💝

The arts are not mine!Credits to the artist!🌟❣️

-With love,BamBam🦢🌙

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hilllsnholland · 5 years

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Those Eyes

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Wc: 1.8k

Warnings: none besides swearing? Angsty fluff.

Song: When You Look Me In The Eyes by Jonas Brothers

Summary: Tom misses your eyes.

A/N: This is for @starksparker Jonas Brothers writing challenge and I’ve been stressed about this since the beginning omg. But enjoy this Angsty fluff/Fluffy angst

The buzzing in Tom’s ear would not stop. It had been hours since he stood on the stage to promote Far From Home, and all he wanted was sleep. It was 2 a.m. and the T.V. was playing Friends reruns but was on mute. Tom sighed again, rolling over in his bed for the hundredth time. He could not sleep. He couldn’t even close his eyes. His mind and body ached for you. It had been two months since he left to promote the film and he was not accommodating well.

The first week started out fine. He was able to get through the day just of the thought of you. Tom had texted and called whenever he had the chance and you made the time to FaceTime him with the time difference. But after a few more weeks it felt like hell. Tom was starved for your touch and he couldn’t stop thinking of the last time he had you in his arms.

___ “You’re squeezing me.” You laughed into his chest.

Tom loosened his grip but kept his head rested on yours, kissing your hair periodically. People rushed by them as they hurried to TSA, his castmates and assistant were waiting for him on the other side so they could board the plane together. Tom didn’t care though, he needed every last second with you.

“I’m gonna miss you, love.” Tom murmured again and again.

“You’re going to miss your flight.” You sighed but didn’t leave his arms.

Tom knew that. He was dreading the count down until he had to leave. He only had about ten more minutes until they would leave without him. You pull from his embrace a bit, your hands still locked around his neck, and looked him in the eyes. Just the look of your eyes comforted him. They were sincere as always, and they gave him hope. Hope that these months would go by fast and the two of you would be together again. Three months without your eyes, your hands, your presence, was going to be a nightmare.

“I wish you would come with me.” His voice is soft as he brushes your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“I know, but I can’t just leave work.” You sigh and pull him close again. “I’ll be waiting for you handsome.”

Tom looked into your beautiful eyes and softened again. For a moment there was no planes, no passing people, not even another soul on this planet. He was stuck in your heavenly gaze, drunk with the love you gave him. Tom didn’t even speak, he just stared and memorized every part of your face.

“Are you okay?” You shift but Tom stops you from moving, dipping his head to kiss you once more.

“When you look me in the eyes, Y/N, it’s hard to leave. I just want to remember this feeling.”

You nod, knowing exactly what he meant. His eyes were the only thing that could calm you down in moments of stress. His eyes reminded you of home, where you felt loved and savored by the man of your dreams. Tom leans down to kiss you one last time, the timer on his phone blowing up to tell him it’s time to go or get left behind. The kiss was short, too short for your liking, and both of your faces fell. Tom bowed his head, whispering one more ‘I love you’ and then grabbed his things to leave.

___ That moment was burned into his mind every time he tried to sleep. It was hard, he had nothing but pictures of you to keep him company. Even the calls and FaceTimes were empty because he didn’t physically have you. He wished to have your hair tickling his face while you slept in his arms. He wished to have you there as his inspiration, the thing that drives him to be better and stronger. Without you, it felt useless. It felt like nothing could convince to give more than the baseline of zero.

This made the next day of promotion hard. Not only did he only sleep barely two hours, but he was drained emotionally. You couldn’t find the time to call him in the morning so he went attention starved all day. Tom could barely keep his energy up in the interviews, which caused many of the interviewers to question his late night activities.

“Are you tired from partying?” One laughed. “I bet a guy like you loses sleep when away with all the parties and women.”

“No,” Tom was short as he shook his head at the comment. “Just homesick. I’m missing my girl a lot today.”

That would surely disrupt the internet when that was posted, but Tom was telling the truth. The reason why he was acting so strange was that you were consuming his mind. All he could think of was your laugh and your quirky humor that could make anyone crack a smile. Tom went through the whole day consumed by you until he went to the Green Room before he had to do more interviews. Tom trudged into the room, sighing audibly as he took a seat in the chair and tried to relax. It wasn’t long until another person entered the room, gaining his attention and surprise. Tom jumps up to his feet and greets Harrison.

“S’up mate!” Harrison laughs as he brings Tom into a hug.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tom felt uneasy, he was happy to see his best friend but it didn’t alleviate the homesickness that was in his heart.

“I wanted to surprise you? Disappointed?”

Tom shakes his head and laughs. Well, he wished it was you. He loves Harrison, but only you could fix the pain that was crushing him. Tom sits with Harrison, talking about all the funny things that have happened on the press tour and Harrison telling stories back home. It felt normal for a second, all he needed was Tessa and a beer and it would be like old times.

“How’s...how’s Y/N doing?” Tom says after a long laugh. “I know she’s busy with school and that’s why she couldn’t come but is she doing alright while I’m gone?”

Harrison gives Tom a pitiful look, shaking his head. The only person who knew Tom better than you was Harrison, and he could tell Tom has fallen apart. Tom could fake that he was okay to strangers, but Harrison saw the weak smile and the bags under his eyes.

“She’s a mess dude. She’s always talking about you and she came over one night crying because she couldn’t spend another night in your flat without you.”

That destroyed him. All his hope was that you were doing fine, keeping spirits alive while he was away. But that was not the case, the two of you were a mess without each other. Maybe that’s why you had always said you were each other's soulmates. The two of you couldn’t even go a few weeks without each other before turning into mush.

“I’ve been the same. I don’t know if I can ever leave her again after this. It feels like I’m actually dying without her here. Is that crazy?” Harrison shrugs.

“I think you are just two idiots in love.” He laughs. “Hey, I’ll be right back. Don’t go all sappy on me while I’m gone okay?”

Tom rolls his eyes, flipping Harrison off as he leaves the room. Tom sits back in his seat, hands folded in his lap while he thinks about what Harrison said. Yeah, the two of you were idiots in love, the two of you are unable to take care of yourselves without the other. He hated being so dependent, but it was more than that. It was the fact that he didn’t have anything to do more for, he didn’t have to be funny because you weren’t going to laugh at his joke. He didn’t have to be looking his best because he didn’t have you to compliment or impress. It was a low point, a depression brought on the loss of you. You weren’t gone, but your constant sunshine to his life was. Didn’t matter if the two of you were in fact still together, you two were not together in the spacial sense and it hurt. The door creaks open and Tom doesn’t look up.

“You back to tease me some more?” Tom laughs and looks up.

Tom almost stops breathing. Quite honestly, he thought he was going to collapse from shock. There you were, standing in the doorway with Harrison, a big stupid grin on his stupid face. Tears were streaming down your face because at heart, you were a little baby when it came to things like this. Tom shakily stands up, mouth agape as he motions his hands at Harrison. The two of you don’t move though, you’re both so overwhelmed with emotions that it felt like there was still thousands of miles between you.

“How? What?”

“Don’t just stand there! Kiss the fucking girl!” Harrison throws his arms up.

Tom runs up to you, grabbing your face in his hand and kissing you as passionately as he could. This kiss put the others to shame, especially the one before he got on the plane to leave you. Your lips still felt the same, you tasted the same, but it was different. It was the breath of fresh air he needed to feel like himself again. It was as if the moment he saw you he had metamorphosed into the man you saw before the airport. The smile on his face was bright, he was full of energy, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off of yours.

“Your eyes,” Tom sighs “Every time I look you in the eyes, I feel like I’m home.” He whispers to you so that Harrison can’t hear anything but murmurs. “I’ve been in the dark since the day I left and now that you’re here,” Tom laughs at his own cliches. “You make that disappear and I feel like it’ll be okay. You’re my light, like heaven Y/N.”

The tears kept coming as he spoke, your words caught in your throat. You nodded, wiping the tears from your eyes and smiling through the flood of emotions. Tom kept his hands around your face, staring into your eyes as if to make sure this wasn’t some dream. You were really there, in front of him and in his grasp.

“I love you,” You cry.

“I love you too.”

Tom kisses you again, forgetting that Harrison was standing a foot away with a smug grin. He had this planned out for weeks, knowing he’d get his two friends to act like a bunch of lovesick kids.

“A thank you is appreciated you know.” Harrison winks at them as he flops on the couch.

Tom ignores him though, just for now he wanted to focus on you. Your figure, your smile, and your eyes. Those fucking eyes, the ones that kept him sane and the ones that felt like home. In those eyes, he saw his future, what lies farther than the hurt that was crushing him for weeks on end. He saw you, the love his life, and the beautiful paradise of life the two of you can make together. Tom smiles, kissing you again, thanking God for giving you those eyes.

///

Taglist: @mrs-hollandstan /@dangerousluv1 / @lovelyh0lland / @laureharrier / @stylemute / @captainbuckyy / @thelazypangolin /

#kaylees jonas brothers wc #Tom Holland imagine #Tom Holland imagines #Tom Holland fluff #Tom Holland oneshot #Tom Holland fanfic #Tom Holland x reader #Tom Holland angst #Tom Holland blurbs #Tom Holland blurb #Tom Holland x you #Tom Holland song fic #Tom Holland headcanon #Tom Holland #writing challenge #marvel fanfiction

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hockeyfun · 6 years

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Mathew Barzal #1

Not Requested

Word count:1871

Warnings: Drinking, cheating, dirty dancing

Authors note: i’m back and trying to get better at writing more often. I still have requests from over two years ago. I’m sorry I’m the worst. I still plan on doing them. I know the person probably doesn't follow me anymore but i guess it’s just a guide for me to spit out some stories. //actually about the writing// I might have a second part for this or even makes it a little bit of a series. Once i have some more of my requests done I kinda have something fun I want to start! Please Enjoy! Thank you.

Men were attracted to you, and you enjoyed it. Growing up you were that type of girl who always had a boyfriend, but was never able to keep them. Well it was more like they couldn’t keep you. You didn’t want it to be that way, but it just was. The men you dated just couldn’t give you what you wanted, an epic love. You wanted a love filled with so much emotion it hurt. You couldn’t help it. At a young age you began writing. You had a natural talent for it. As the older you got the more and more your english teachers began to tell you that you should consider writing as a career. Mush to your parent’s dismay, you agreed and went to school for creative writing. Your education and natural gift is what got your book series to the number one spot in New York’s Best Sellers. There was talk about a movie or tv deal. You were sort of a big deal in your neck of the woods. You wrote of epic true loves. Love that was forbidden, or cursed. A love that could prevail it all and defeat evil. That is why you couldn’t keep a man. Ben, the man you were with now, was one of the longest relationships you’ve had, but you could feel yourself growing indifferent towards him.

Your thoughts were clouded with frustration. Why were you like this. The frustration manifested in you slamming your fist down onto the table where you were sitting at. Your hot coffee spilled all over your hand, burning it. Instant regret filled you for acting so dramatically and childish. After cleaning up the mess you made in the coffee shop you were at, you needed a drink. You packed up your purse and began to make your way to your favorite bar.

When you got there you already had exchanged a bunch of texts with Ben. He was wondering where you were. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. You were feeling self destructive and mysterious right now. You could feel yourself wanting a sloppy drunk night Wanting it to end only in one way, with a one night stand. You weren’t a cheater and you didn’t plan to act on this emotion, just the first part, getting drunk. The bar you go to regularly was a place for young people. It was filled with games, such as mini bowling, large jenga, ring tosses, and much more. It was a nice place to people watch. The groups of people cheering and as the night went on and on the more sloppy they got, and the more flirty they got. Sometime the boys would get up the courage to flirt with you using the typical lines and their egos floating until you reject them. They couldn’t offer you anything that no other man had offer you’d before, and look how well that turned out for the previous men in your life, or even the current one. You found a seat at the bar far off in the corner hoping people would get the message you wanted to be alone even though you didn’t. The bar tender recognized you immediately and put her hand out for your bag. You handed it to her and she hid it behind the bar. “The usual?” she asked. You shook your head no, “I’d like a strong Jameson and coke, and a beer,” you responded feeling angsty. She just gave you a bit of look not understanding your intentions for the night. You noticed drinks tell a lot about the person’s story. Your story tonight was exactly what you wanted it to be, a story of a lone wolf surrounded by people, a tragedy. When your drinks came, you practically downed the Jameson and coke. You felt the alcohol reaching your bloodstream and settling in, it fogged your brain just a little. You made eye contact with the bartender again letting her know you needed another but to take her time. You began to sip on your beer for now. You swiveled in your chair to look at the crowds beginning to form the later the night got. A loud group of young athletic men walked in. The bar filled much faster since the group of boys got here, making you to believe they were important. The lot of them stuck together but all seemed to have their own interest. A few went to play the games, a few went to search for women, and some went straight to the bar. You finished your beer and turned towards the new Jameson and coke. One of the boys from the group began walking towards you. He didn’t make eye contact and didn’t seemed too interested. He had dark flowing hair, one that reminded you of images of a young knight going to save the locked up princess. He leaned onto the counter waiting to catch the eye of the bartender. You took notice to the muscular arms that were next to you. The sleeves of his shirt stretching just enough to show just how muscular he really was. He didn’t even look at you once when he waited, which intrigued you. Usually men flocked to you fighting for your attention, tonight was different. You would catch the eyes of the boys and you could see it, you saw they wanted you but they didn’t act on it. Instead they turned to the easier girls in front of them (not that being an easy girl is a bad thing). “I’ll order a Bud light, and another drink of choice for her,” the man next to you nodded in your direction without making eye contact. It was his first time acknowledging you since coming your way. Your bartender friend looked at you for your consent, you nodded. He finally turned and looked at you. He didn’t give a warm smile but held a cocky smirk on his lips. “Do I get a thank you?” he questioned. Now that you were looking directly at him, you noticed he had to be a few years younger than you. “I never asked for the drink, you were the one that take a chance and bought it,” you spoke a bit strongly. His eyes had captured your attention and by being rude and mean you were hoping to scare off the young boy, even though you didn’t want to. He gave you a wide smile. “Feisty.” The bartender came up with the drinks and set the drinks down in front of him. He fished in his pocket and gave her a $50, and told her to keep the change. You gave him a skeptical look. He was showing off. He grabbed the drinks and began to hand you yours, when he pulled it back, “Name,” he commanded. You rolled your eyes and gave it to him. Once the drink was in your hand you twirled the ice around with the straw. “run along, young puppy,” you responded with a wave of your hand. The man in front of you smiled amusingly at you, revealing his perfectly white and straight set of teeth. You were a little jealous of how perfect the boy looked like in front of you. He leaned with his beer holding arm, against the bar counter top. “Oh now come on, I bought you a drink and you’re not even going to talk to me?” he questioned. You looked up at him with a bit of anger in your eyes. “A woman never owes a man anything, especially because I didn’t ask for the drink in the first place,” you refuted. He put his free hand up in mercy, “I didn’t say you owed me anything. I just thought my act of kindness would warrant a bit more in the conversation department,” he laughed. “I have a boyfriend, so flattery can only get you so far,” you responded by taking a big gulp of your drink. The contents of all the alcohol you’ve had finally fully fogged up your brain. The longer this boy stayed, the more likely you’d cheat on Ben. “You say that like it’s supposed to scare me away,” he added, unswayed to leave, “if you have a boyfriend then why are you all alone at a bar flirting with me?” he wondered. You couldn’t help yourself. You leaned in closer to the young boy. “Is this what you call flirting?” you whispered to him. He leaned back in a fit of laughter and amusement. You smiled at his reaction. “Well, I guess that settles it then,” he took a finishing sip of his beer, “If you want to continue our fun tonight you know where to find me,” he tipped his empty beer bottle in a cheers fashion. He began to walk away. “Wait,” you called out to him. He turned around with a cocky smile knowing he had hit a nerve with you. “What’s your name?” you asked. “Mathew Barzal,” he responded and turned to walk away. It took you awhile to finish your drink. You couldn’t get your mind off the young boy, Mathew. Once you finished your drink, you were drunk, absolutely drunk. You threw some money down on the bar for your drinks and turned. You finally felt the true amount of alcohol in your system. It was a lot but nothing you couldn’t handle. You scanned the room. You knew you should go home, back to Ben, but you weren’t going to. You were looking for a specific knight. It took you awhile to find Mathew. He was talking to a young, younger than you at least, woman. She was skinny, cute, and caused your skin to boil. The jealousy (and alcohol) in your blood made you b-line for Mathew. He didn’t notice you until you talked, “let’s dance,” you commanded. He turned to look at you, a little shocked. You noticed his friends all turned to see what was happening. Now that you were closer you noticed their ages varied, but their athletic build did not. He gave a lazy crooked smile, he was obviously more drunk than the first time you two talked, just as you were. He took your hand and lead you to the dance floor. He spun you around so your back was to his front. He leaned down into your ear, “I thought you had a boyfriend?” he tested you. You leaned your head back. His eyes sparkled and you felt like you could drown in them, “I do,” you pressured. He looked up in thought for a second, and he leaned down like he was going to respond but instead he kissed you. You turned your body so that you were facing him. You melted into the kiss. Any thought of Ben you had was gone. You were consumed by Mathew. You had your hands wrapped in his hair, feeling its lushness and beauty. One of his hands rested on your hip pulling you closer to him, never wanting to let you go. The other hand was on the back of your head keeping you where you were. You felt locked up yet free. This boy gave you everything you needed, adventure, forbidden love, and excitement.

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gaysparklepires · 7 years

Text

1. Ultimatum

Beau,

I don’t know why you’re making Charlie carry notes to Billy like we’re in second grade—if I wanted to talk to you I would answer the

You made the choice here, okay? You can’t have it both ways when

What part of ‘mortal enemies’ is too complicated for you to

Look, I know I’m being a jerk, but there’s just no way around

We can’t be friends when you’re spending all your time with a bunch of

It just makes it worse when I think about you too much, so don’t write anymore

Yeah, I miss you, too. A lot. Doesn’t change anything. Sorry.

Jacob

I ran my fingers across the page, feeling the dents where he had pressed the pen to the paper so hard that it had nearly broken through. I could picture him writing this—scrawling the angry letters in his rough handwriting slashing through line after line when the words came out wrong, maybe even snapping the pen in his too-big hands that would explain the ink splatters. I could imagine the frustration pulling his black eyebrows together and crumpling his forehead. If I’d been there, I might have laughed. Don’t give yourself a brain hemorrhage, Jake, I would have told him. Just spit it out.

Laughing was the last thing I felt like doing now as I reread the words I’d already memorized. His answer to my pleading note—passed from Charlie to Billy to him, just like the second grade, as he’d pointed out—was no surprise. I’d known the essence of what it would say before I’d opened it.

I wasn’t so naïve as to think we had left things in a good place. But I had hoped that we could work it all out… somehow. Something had happened after the last time I saw Jacob in person. Something had changed his mind about where things were between us. I couldn’t really blame him, though. I had told him it wasn’t fair of me to tell him the truth of my feelings, if there was such a strong possibility that nothing would come of it. I had to try and reconcile myself with the fact that he had realized this himself.

What was surprising me was how much each crossed-out line wounded me—as if the points of the letters had cutting edges. More than that, behind each angry beginning lurked a vast pool of hurt; Jacob’s pain cut me deeper than my own.

While pondering this, I caught the unmistakable scent of a smoking burner rising from inside the kitchen. In another house, the fact that someone besides myself was cooking might not be cause for panicking.

I shoved the wrinkled paper into my back pocket and ran, making it downstairs in the nick of time.

The jar of spaghetti sauce Charlie had stuck in the microwave was only on its first revolution when I yanked the door open and pulled it out.

“What did I do wrong?” Charlie demanded.

“You’re supposed to take the lid off first, Dad. Metal’s bad for microwaves.” I swiftly removed the lid as I spoke, poured half the sauce into a bowl, and then put the bowl inside the microwave and the jar back in the fridge; I fixed the time and pressed start.

Charlie watched my adjustments with pursed lips. “Did I get the noodles right?”

I looked in the pan on the stove—the source of the smell that had alerted me. “Stirring helps,” I said mildly. I found a spoon and tried to de-clump the mushy hunk that was scalded to the bottom.

Charlie sighed.

“So what’s all this about?” I asked him.

He folded his arms across his chest and glared out the back windows into the sheeting rain. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grumbled.

I was mystified. Charlie cooking? And what was with the surly attitude? Edward wasn’t here yet; usually my dad reserved this kind of behavior for my boyfriend’s benefit, doing his best to illustrate the theme of “unwelcome” with every word and posture. Charlie’s efforts were unnecessary—Edward knew exactly what my dad was thinking without the show.

The word boyfriend had me chewing on the inside of my cheek with a familiar tension while I stirred. How easy it had been when that word was enough. I’d use any other word, even the hokey ones like destiny and fate that had no place in casual conversation.

Edward had another word in mind, and that word was the source of the tension I felt. It put my teeth on edge just to think it to myself.

Fiancé. Yikes. I shuddered away from the thought. I had managed to talk Edward down from his proposal. After all, it had really been poor timing and, while the idea certainly made it clear how serious he was about staying with me—and had definitely improved his chances of winning back my trust—I wasn’t in a proper place to make a decision of that magnitude at the time.

I shook my head, focusing myself back on the present.

“Did I miss something? Since when do you make dinner?” I asked Charlie. The pasta lump bobbed in the boiling water as I poked it. “Or try to make dinner, I should say.”

Charlie shrugged. “There’s no law that says I can’t cook in my own house.”

“You would know,” I replied, grinning as I eyed the badge pinned to his leather jacket.

“Ha. Good one.” He shrugged out of the jacket as if my glance had reminded him he still had it on, and hung it on the peg reserved for his gear. His gun belt was already slung in place—he hadn’t felt the need to wear that to the station for a few weeks. There had been no more disturbing disappearances to trouble the small town of Forks, Washington, no more sightings of the giant, mysterious wolves in the ever-rainy woods…

I prodded the noodles in silence, guessing that Charlie would get around to talking about whatever was bothering him in his own time. My dad was not a man of many words, and the effort he had put into trying to orchestrate a sit-down dinner with me made it clear there were an uncharacteristic number of words on his mind.

I glanced at the clock, keeping track of the time. Less than half an hour to go now.

Afternoons were the worst part of my day. Ever since my former best friend (and werewolf), Jacob Black, had informed on me about the motorcycle I’d been riding on the sly—a betrayal he had devised in order to get me grounded so that I couldn’t spend time with my boyfriend (and vampire), Edward Cullen—Edward had been allowed to see me only from seven till nine-thirty p.m., always inside the confines of my home and under my dad’s protective watch.

This was an escalation from the previous, slightly less stringent grounding that I’d earned for an unexplained three-day disappearance and one episode of cliff diving.

Of course, I still saw Edward at school, because there wasn’t anything Charlie could do about that. And then, Edward spent almost every night in my room, too, but Charlie wasn’t precisely aware of that. Edward’s ability to climb easily and silently through my second-story window was almost as useful as his ability to read minds.

Edward needed as much time as he could get with me as he was still on probation for his behavior the previous September when he unceremoniously left me—for my own good, he insisted—and then tried to get himself killed when he thought he had lost me for good. It hadn’t been one of his best plans. He spent the days at my side being as attentive and sweet as he could, and he spent the nights next to me in my bed whispering how much he loved me.

Though the afternoon was the only time I spent away from Edward, it was enough to make me restless. When Edward wasn’t there to distract me, I would think of Jacob. I had hoped, after the last time I saw Jake, that we would be able to work things out. I couldn’t blame him for changing his mind. He had every right to, and it would be selfish of me to expect him to sit around waiting for something that very well may never happen.

Either way, I endured my punishment without complaining to Charlie because—for one thing—I knew I’d earned it, and—for another—because I couldn’t bear to hurt my dad anymore. Not when the possibility of a very permanent separation hovered, invisible to Charlie, so close on my horizon.

My dad sat down at the table with a grunt and unfolded the damp newspaper there; within seconds he was clucking his tongue in disapproval.

“I don’t know why you read the news, Dad. It only ticks you off.”

He ignored me, grumbling at the paper in his hands. “This is why everyone wants to live in a small town! Ridiculous.”

“What have the big, bad cities done wrong now?”

“Seattle’s making a run for murder capital of the country. Five unsolved homicides in the last two weeks. Can you imagine living like that?”

“I think Phoenix is actually higher up on the homicide list, Dad. I have lived that.” And I’d never come close to being a murder victim until after I moved to his safe little town. In fact, I was still on several hit lists… I felt a swirl of nausea in my stomach, not brought on by the pasta-mush.

“Well, you couldn’t pay me enough,” Charlie said.

I gave up on saving dinner and settled for serving it; I had to use a steak knife to cut a portion of spaghetti for Charlie and then myself, while he watched with a sheepish expression. Charlie coated his helping with sauce and dug in. I disguised my own clump as well as I could and followed his example without much enthusiasm. We ate in silence for a moment. Charlie was still scanning the news, so I picked up my much-abused copy of Wuthering Heights from where I’d left it this morning at breakfast, and tried to lose myself in turn-of-the-century England while I waited for him to start talking.

I was just to the part where Heathcliff returns when Charlie cleared his throat and threw the paper to the table.

“You’re right,” Charlie said. “I did have a reason for doing this.” He waved his fork at the gluey spread. “I wanted to talk to you.”

I laid the book aside; the binding was so destroyed that it slumped flat to the table. “You could have just asked.” I teased.

He nodded, his eyebrows pulling together. “Yeah. I’ll remember that next time. I thought taking dinner off your hands would soften you up.”

I laughed. “It worked—your cooking skills have me soft as a marshmallow. What do you need, Dad?”

“Well, it’s about Jacob.”

I felt my stomach drop. “What about him?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.

“Well, Beau. I know you’re still upset that he told on you, but it was the right thing. He was being responsible.”

“Responsible,” I repeated quietly. “Right. So, what about Jacob?”

The question repeated endlessly inside my head. What about Jacob? What was I going to do about him? My former best friend… my almost boyfriend who was now… what? My enemy? I cringed.

Charlie’s face was suddenly wary. “Don’t get mad at me, okay?”

“Mad?”

“Well, it’s about Edward, too.”

I raised an eyebrow. My suspicion evident on my face.

Charlie frowned. “Hey, kiddo, listen, I let him in the house, don’t I?”

“You do,” I agreed. “For brief periods of time. Of course, you might let me out of the house for brief periods now and then, too,” I continued��only jokingly; I knew I was deservedly on lockdown for the duration of the school year. “I’ve been pretty good lately.”

“Well, that’s kind of where I was heading with this…” And then Charlie’s face stretched into an unexpected eye-crinkling grin; for a second he looked twenty years younger.

I saw a dim glimmer of possibility in that smile, but I proceeded slowly. “I’m confused, Dad. Are we talking about Jacob, or Edward, or me being grounded?”

The grin flashed again. “Sort of all three.”

“And how do they relate?” I asked, cautious.

“Okay.” He sighed, raising his hands as if in surrender. “So I’m thinking maybe you deserve a parole for good behavior. For a teenager, you’re amazingly non-whiny.”

My voice and eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? I’m free?”

Where was this coming from? I’d been positive I would be under house arrest until I actually moved out, and Edward hadn’t picked up any wavering in Charlie’s thoughts…

Charlie held up one finger. “Conditionally.”

I was wary, but intrigued. “Okay, go on.”

“Beau, this is more of a request than a demand, okay? You’re free. But I’m hoping you’ll use that freedom… judiciously.”

“Could you elaborate?”

He sighed again. “Now, I know you’re satisfied to spend all of your time with Edward— “

“I spend time Alice, too,” I interjected. Edward’s sister had no hours of visitation; she came and went as she pleased. Charlie was putty in her capable hands.

“That’s true,” he said. “But you have other friends besides the Cullens, Beau, or you used to.”

“I still do, Dad!” I objected.

“When was the last time you spoke to Jessica Stanley? Or Angela Weber?” he threw back.

“In person or on the phone?” I raised an eyebrow. “Because we text all the time, and I saw them Friday at lunch.”

Before Edward’s return, my school friends had polarized into two groups. I liked to think of those groups as good vs. evil. Us and them worked, too. The good guys were Angela, her steady boyfriend Ben Cheney, Mike Newton, and Jessica; these four had very generously forgiven me for falling into my depression when Edward left. Logan Mallory was the evil core of the them side, and almost everyone else seemed to go along with his anti-Beau agenda. Only Logan’s sister, Lauren, seemed to waver on the edge.

With Edward back at school, the dividing line had become even more distinct.

Edward’s return had taken its toll on Mike’s friendship, but Jessica was un-phased—if not worried about me getting hurt again, Angela was unswervingly loyal, and Ben followed Angela’s lead. Despite the natural aversion most humans felt toward the Cullens, Angela even sat dutifully beside Alice every day at lunch. After a few weeks, Angela even looked comfortable there. It was difficult not to be charmed by the Cullens—once one gave them the chance to be charming.

“Outside of school?” Charlie asked, calling my attention back.

“I haven’t seen anyone outside of school, Dad. Grounded, remember? Jessica and I text all the time, but she’s always going on dates. And Angela has a boyfriend, too. She’s always with Ben.” I thought for a moment. “If I’m really free,” I offered, “maybe Angela and I could convince the guys to go on a double date.”

“Okay. But then…” He hesitated. “You and Jake used to be joined at the hip, and now—“

I cut him off. “Dad, what’s the condition—exactly?”

“I don’t think you should dump all your other friends for your boyfriend, Beau,” he said in a stern voice. “It’s not nice, and I think your life would be better balanced if you kept some people in it. What happened last September…”

“Was unfortunate, and I learned a lot from it.” I said pointedly.

“Well,” he said defensively. “If you’d had more of a life outside of Edward Cullen, it might not have been like that.”

“It probably wouldn’t have gone much differently, Dad.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“I still talk to my other friends, Dad. I really do.” I sighed. “Tell me your terms.”

“Use your new freedom to see your other friends, too. Keep it balanced.”

I nodded thoughtfully. “Balance is good. I can do balance.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Do I have specific time quotas to fill?” I asked, half-teasing.

He made a face, but shook his head. “I don’t want to make this complicated. Just don’t forget your friends…”

It was dilemma I was already struggling with. My friends. People who, for their own safety, I might never see again after graduation.

So what was the better course of action? Spend time with them while I could? Or start the separation now to make it more gradual? I quailed at the idea of the second option.

“…Particularly Jacob,” Charlie added before I could think things through more than that.

A greater dilemma than the first. It took me a moment to find the right words. “Jacob might be… difficult.”

“The Blacks are practically family, Beau,” he said, stern and fatherly again. “And Jacob has been a very, very good friend to you.”

“Yes, he has.”

“Don’t you miss him at all?” Charlie asked frustrated.

My throat suddenly felt swollen; I had to clear it twice before I answered. “Yes, I do miss him,” I admitted, still looking down. “I miss him a lot.”

“Then why is it difficult?”

I wasn’t something I was at liberty to explain. It was against the rules for normal people—human people like me and Charlie—to know about the clandestine world full of myths and monsters that existed secretly around us. I knew all about that world—and I was in no small amount of trouble as a result. I wasn’t about to get Charlie in the same trouble.

“With Jacob there is a… conflict,” I said slowly. “A conflict about the friendship thing, I mean. Friendship doesn’t seem to be enough for Jake.” I wound my excuse out of details that were true but left out the part that Jacob’s werewolf pack bitterly hated Edward’s vampire family—and as far as they knew I was planning on becoming one of them. Even though I hadn’t made any decision. It wasn’t something I could work out with him in a note, and he wouldn’t answer my calls. But my plan to deal with the werewolf in person had definitely not gone over well with the vampires.

“Isn’t Edward up for a little healthy competition?” Charlie’s voice had a tinge of sarcasm in it.

I sighed. “I don’t know if there’s still a competition between them.”

“You’re hurting Jake’s feelings, avoiding him like this. He’d rather be just friends than nothing.”

Ah, now I was avoiding him.

“I’m pretty sure Jake doesn’t want to be friends at all.” The words burned in my mouth. “Where’d you get that idea, anyway?”

Charlie looked embarrassed now. “The subject might have come up with Billy…”

“You and Billy gossip like old women,” I rolled my eyes, stabbing my fork into the congealed spaghetti on my plate.

“Billy’s worried about Jacob,” Charlie said. “Jake’s having a hard time right now… He’s depressed.”

I felt a familiar ache in my chest, and the memory of Jacob’s face the last time I had seen him flashed across my mind.

“And then you were always so happy after spending the day with Jake.” Charlie sighed.

“I’m happy now.” I had head meant to sound light and cheerful, but it came out as a pathetic whine.

The contrast between my words and tone broke through the tension. Charlie burst into laughter, and I had to join in.

“Okay, okay,” I agreed. “Balance.”

“And Jacob,” he insisted.

“And Jacob.” I repeated.

“Good. Find that balance, Beau. And, oh, yeah, you’ve got some mail,” Charlie said, closing the subject with no attempt at subtlety. “It’s by the stove.”

I didn’t move, my thoughts twisting into sadness around Jacob’s name. It was most likely junk mail; I’d just gotten a package from my mom yesterday and I wasn’t expecting anything else.

Charlie shoved his chair away from the table and stretched as he got to his feet. He took his plate to the sink, but before he turned the water on to rinse it, he paused to toss a thick envelope at me. The letter skidded across the table and thunked into my elbow.

“Er, thanks,” I muttered, puzzled by his pushiness. Then I saw the return address — the letter was from the University of Alaska Southeast. “That was quick. I guess I missed the deadline on that one, too.”

Charlie chuckled.

I flipped the envelope over and then glared up at him. “It’s open.”

“I was curious.”

“I’m shocked, Sheriff. That’s a federal crime.”

“Oh, just read it.”

I pulled out the letter, and a folded schedule of courses.

“Congratulations,” he said before I could read anything. “Your first acceptance.”

“Oh, wow! Thanks, Dad.”

“We should talk about tuition. I’ve got some money saved up —”

“Hey, hey, none of that. I’m not touching your retirement, Dad. I’ve got my college fund.” What was left of it — and there hadn’t been much to begin with.

Charlie frowned. “Some of these places are pretty pricey, kiddo. I want to help. You don’t have to go to all the way to Alaska just because it’s cheaper.”

It wasn’t cheaper, not at all. But it was far away, and Juneau had an average of three hundred twenty-one overcast days per year. The first was my prerequisite, the second was Edward’s. If I was going to be hiding from murderous vampires, I wanted to be as far away from those I loved as possible. Well, the humans I loved, at least.

“I’ve got it covered. Besides, there’s lots of financial aid out there. It’s easy to get loans.” I hoped my bluff wasn’t too obvious. I hadn’t actually done a lot of research on the subject.

“So…” Charlie began, and then he pursed his lips and looked away.

“So what?”

“Nothing. I was just . . .” He frowned. “Just wondering what . . . Edward’s plans are for next year?”

“Oh.”

“Well?”

Three quick raps on the door saved me. Charlie rolled his eyes and I jumped up.

“Coming!” I called while Charlie mumbled something that sounded like, “Oh, great.” I ignored him and went to let Edward in.

I opened the door, and there he was.

Time had not made me immune to the perfection of his face. My eyes traced over his pale white features: the hard square of his jaw, the softer curve of his full lips — twisted up into a smile now, the straight line of his nose, the sharp angle of his cheekbones, the smooth marble span of his forehead — partially obscured by a tangle of rain-darkened bronze hair…

I saved his eyes for last, knowing that when I looked into them I was likely to lose my train of thought. They were wide, warm with liquid gold, and framed by a thick fringe of black lashes. Staring into his eyes always made my heart pound a little.

It was a face any male model in the world would trade his soul for. Of course, that might be exactly the asking price: one soul.

No. I didn’t believe that. I felt guilty for even thinking it, and was glad—as I was often glad—that I was the one person whose thoughts were a mystery to Edward.

He reached for my hand, and I felt a little spark of excitement when his cold fingers found mine. His touch always did that to me, even now.

“Hey.” I smiled.

He raised our interlaced fingers to brush my cheek with the back of his hand. “How was your afternoon?”

“Slow.”

“For me, as well.”

He pulled my wrist up to his face, our hands still twisted together. His eyes closed as his nose skimmed along the skin there, and he smiled gently without opening them. Enjoying the bouquet while resisting the wine, as he’d once put it.

I knew that the scent of my blood—so much sweeter to him than any other person’s blood, truly like wine beside water to an alcoholic—caused him actual pain from the burning thirst it engendered. But he didn’t seem to shy away from it as much as he once had. I could only dimly imagine the Herculean effort behind this simple gesture.

It made me sad that he had to try so hard, but that dedication served him well in his effort to prove his love for me and end his probation.

I heard Charlie approaching then. Edward’s eyes snapped open and he let our hands fall, keeping them twined.

“Good evening, Charlie.” Edward was always flawlessly polite.

“Edward.” Charlie nodded once, and then stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. He was taking the idea of parental supervision to extremes lately.

“I brought another set of applications,” Edward told me then, holding up a stuffed manila envelope. He was wearing a roll of stamps like a ring around his littlest finger.

I groaned. How were there any colleges left that he hadn’t forced me to apply to already? And how did he keep finding these loophole openings? It was so late in the year.

He smiled as if he could read my thoughts; they must have been very obvious on my face. “There are still a few open deadlines. And a few places willing to make exceptions.”

I could just imagine the motivations behind such exceptions. And the dollar amounts involved.

Edward laughed at my expression.

“Shall we?” he asked, towing me toward the kitchen table.

“My hand is going to fall off if I have to fill out any more applications,” I complained. “I think we’ve done enough.”

Edward ignored me, but he smiled.

Charlie followed behind, protectively, thought he could hardly complain about the activity on tonight’s agenda. He’d been pushing me to make a decision about college on a daily basis.

I cleared the table quickly while Edward organized an intimidating stack of forms. When I moved Wuthering Heights to the counter, Edward raised one eyebrow. I knew what he was thinking, but Charlie interrupted before Edward could comment.

“Speaking of college applications, Edward,” Charlie said, trying to keep his tone polite—for my benefit, more than Edwards, “Beau and I were just talking about next year. Have you decided where you’re going to school?”

Edward smiled up at Charlie and his voice was friendly. “Not yet. I’ve received a few acceptance letters, but I’m still weighing my options.”

“Where have you been accepted?” Charlie pressed.

“Syracuse…Harvard…Dartmouth… and I just got accepted to the University of Alaska Southeast today.” Edward turned his face slightly to the side so that he could wink at me. I stifled a laugh.

“Harvard? Dartmouth?” Charlie mumbled, unable to conceal his awe. “Well that’s pretty… that’s something. Yeah, but the University of Alaska… you wouldn’t really consider that when you could go to Ivy League. I mean, your father would want you to…”

“Carlisle’s always fine with whatever I choose to do,” Edward told him serenely.

“Hmph.”

“Guess what, Edward?” I asked in a bright voice, playing along.

“What, Beau?”

I pointed to the thick envelope on the counter. “I just my acceptance to the University of Alaska!”

“Congratulations!” He grinned. “What a coincidence.”

Charlie’s eyes narrowed and he glared back and forth between the two of us. “Alright, alright,” he muttered after a minute. “I’m going to watch the game, kiddo. Nine-thirty.”

That was his usual parting reminder.

“Er, Dad? Remember the very recent discussion about my freedom…?”

He sighed. “Right, okay, ten-thirty. You still have a curfew on school nights.”

“Beau’s no longer grounded?” Edward asked. Thought I knew he wasn’t really surprised, I couldn’t detect any false note to the sudden excitement in his voice.

“Conditionally,” Charlie corrected. “Why do you ask?”

I raised an unpleased eyebrow at my dad, but he didn’t see.

“It’s just good to know,” Edward said. “Alice has been itching for a shopping partner, and I’m sure Beau would love to see some city lights.” He smiled at me.

But Charlie’s face went pale, “Absolutely not!”

“Dad? What’s the matter?”

Charlie looked at me, very serious. “I don’t want you going to Seattle right now, Beau.”

“Huh?”

“I told you about the story in the paper—there’s some kind of gang on a killing spree in Seattle and I want you to steer clear, okay?”

“Oh,” I considered this. “I mean, I’m pretty sure there’s a better chance that I’ll get struck by lightning than that the one day I’m in Seattle—“

“No, that’s fine, Charlie,” Edward said, interrupting me. “I didn’t mean Seattle. Alice was thinking a trip to Portland, actually. Besides, I wouldn’t have Beau in Seattle, either. Of course not.”

I looked at him curiously, but he had Charlie’s newspaper in his hands and he was reading the front page intently.

He must have been trying to appease my father. The idea of being in danger from even the deadliest of humans while I was with Alice or Edward was downright hilarious.

It worked though. Charlie stared at Edward for one second more, and then shrugged. “Okay, then.” He hurried off toward the living room—I imagined he didn’t want to miss tip-off.

I waited till the TV was on, so that Charlie wouldn’t be able to hear me.

“What—,” I started to ask.

“Hold on, love,” Edward said without looking up from the paper. His eyes stayed focused on the page as he pushed the first application toward me across the table. “I think you can recycle your essays for this one. Same questions.”

Charlie must still be listening. I sighed and started to fill out the repetitive information: name, address, social… after a few minutes I glanced up, but Edward was now staring pensively out the window. As I bent my head back to my work, I noticed for the first time the name of the school.

I snorted and moved the papers aside.

“Beau?”

“Be serious, Edward. Dartmouth?”

Edward lifted the discarded application and laid it gently in front of me again. “I think you’d like New Hampshire,” he said. “There’s a full complement of night courses for me, and the forests are very conveniently located for the avid hiker. Plentiful wildlife.” He pulled out the crooked smile he knew I couldn’t resist.

I sighed.

“I’ll let you pay me back, if that makes you happy,” he promised. “If you want, I can charge you interest.”

“Edward, I couldn’t even get in to Dartmouth without some enormous bribe. Or was that part of the loan? The new Cullen wing of the library?”

“Will you just fill out the application, please, Beau? It won’t hurt you to apply.”

I pouted and dramatically rubbed my wrist. “I think it just might.”

He rolled his eyes at me, but I could see a smirk dancing on the edges of his mouth.

I sighed, and turned my attention back to the stack, grumbling, “Can’t I do these online or something?”

I reached for the papers, but they were already gone. I stared at the empty table for a moment, and then at Edward. He didn’t appear to have moved, but the applications were probably around tucked away in his jacket.

“What are you doing?” My brows furrowed in confusion.

“I sign your name better than you do yourself. You’ve already written the essays.”

“If this is an attempt to win you points by sparing me from filling out all these applications…” I narrowed my eyes at him. “…It’s working.”

He smiled is crooked smile again.

“But, honestly, Edward, I don’t really need to apply anywhere else. I’ve been accepted in Alaska. I can almost afford the first semester’s tuition. It’s far away, and everything…”

A pained look tightened his face. “Beau—“

“Don’t start. I’d love to go somewhere else, Edward. But if the… If we need to go into hiding, I want to be as far away from Forks as possible. If I’m already supposed to be in Alaska, it will make it easier for everyone if they haven’t seen me as much to begin with. Plus, we’d be able to go stay with your cousins in Denali in a… worst case scenario…” I trailed off.

“Beau, don’t you want a full, human college experience?” Edward’s eyes were pained as he asked me.

“I’d love it,” I replied. “But we have to have plans in place, Edward. It’s just too dangerous to mess around with.”

“There’s no danger yet,” he insisted.

I sighed in frustration. No danger? Sure. I only had a sadistic vampire trying to avenge his mate’s death with my own, preferably through some slow and tortuous method. Who was worried about Victor? And, oh yeah, the Volturi—the vampire royal family with their small army of vampire warriors—who insisted that my heart stop beating one way or another in the near future, because humans weren’t allowed to know they existed. Right. No reason to panic.

Even with Alice keeping watch—Edward relying on her uncannily accurate visions of the future to give us advance warning—it was insane to take chances.

Going to Alaska was the safest, smartest move I could think of. Either I went to college in a state where Edward could stay by my side and protect me—far away from Forks and the people I loved—or if we couldn’t run, he could change me and we could stay with his cousins in Denali for a while.

A sharp jolt of unease pierced my stomach as I realized how short time really was. Especially if the worst did happen and Edward did have to change me. Of course, there was no other choice—I couldn’t stay in Forks, I couldn’t put anyone at risk by being here much longer—but I was deeply conscious of Charlie sitting in the other room enjoying his game, just like every other night. And my mother, Renée, far away in sunny Florida still pleading with me to spend the summer on the beach with her and her new husband. And Jacob, who, unlike my parents, would suspect the worst when I disappeared to some distant school. Even if my parents didn’t grow suspicious for a long time, even if I could put off visits with excuses about travel expenses or study loads or illnesses, Jacob would know the truth.

For a moment, the idea of Jacob’s certain revulsion overshadowed every other pain.

“Beau,” Edward murmured, his face twisting when he read the distress in mine. “There’s no hurry. I won’t let anyone hurt you. You can take all the time you need.”

“Who needs time,” I whispered, smiling weakly, trying to make a joke of it. “Just make me a monster, already.”

His teeth clenched; he spoke through them. “You have no idea what you’re saying.” Abruptly, he flung the damp newspaper onto the table between us. His finger stabbed the headline on the front page.

DEATH TOLL ON THE RISE,

POLICE FEAR GANG ACTIVITY

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Monsters are not a joke, Beau.”

I stared at the headline again, and then up to his hard expression. “A… a vampire is doing this?” I whispered.

He smiled without humor. His voice was low and cold. “You’d be surprised, Beau, at how often my kind are the source behind the horrors in your human news. It’s easy to recognize, when you know what to look for. The information here indicates a newborn vampire is loose in Seattle. Bloodthirsty, wild, out of control. The way we all are.”

I let my gaze drop to the paper again, avoiding his eyes.

“We’ve been monitoring the situation for a few weeks. All the signs are there—the unlikely disappearances, always in the night, the poorly disposed of corpses, the lack of other evidence… Yes, someone brand-new. And no one seems to be taking responsibility for the neophyte…” He took a deep breath. “Well, it’s not our problem. We wouldn’t even pay attention to the situation if it wasn’t going on so close to home. Like I said, this happens all the time. The existence of monsters results in monstrous consequences.”

I tried not to see the names on the page, but they jumped out from the rest of the print like they were in bold. The five people whose lives were over, whose families were in mourning now. It was different from considering murder in the abstract, reading those names. Maureen Gardiner, Geoffrey Campbell, Grace Razi, Michele O’Connell, Ronald Albrook. People who’d had parents and children and friends and pets and jobs and hopes and plans and memories and futures…

“If it comes to that, it won’t be the same for me,” I whispered, half to myself. “You won’t let me be like that. We’ll live in Antarctica.”

Edward snorted, breaking the tension. “Penguins. Lovely.”

I laughed then, sliding the paper away so I wouldn’t have to see those names anymore. Of course, Edward would consider the hunting possibilities. He and his “vegetarian” family—all committed to protecting human life—preferred the flavor of large predators for satisfying their dietary needs. “Alaska, then, as planned. Only somewhere much more remote than Juneau—somewhere with grizzlies galore.”

“Better,” he allowed. “There are polar bears, too. Very fierce. And the wolves get quite large.”

My mouth fell open and my breath blew out in a sharp gust.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. Before I could recover, the confusion vanished and his whole body seemed to harden. “Oh. Never mind the wolves, then, if the idea is offensive to you.” His voice was stiff, formal, his shoulders rigid.

“He was my best friend, Edward,” I muttered. It stung to use the past tense. “Of course the idea offends me.”

“Please forgive my thoughtlessness,” he said, still very formal. “I shouldn’t have suggested that.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I stared at my hands, clenched into a double fist on the table.

We were both silent for a moment, and then his cool finger was under my chin, coaxing my face up. His expression was much softer now.

“Sorry. Really.”

“I know. I know it’s not the same thing. I shouldn’t have reacted that way. It’s just that… well, I was already thinking about Jacob before you came over.” I hesitated. His tawny eyes seemed to get a little darker whenever I said Jacob’s name. My voice turned pleading in response. “Charlie says Jake is having a hard time. He’s hurting right now, and… it’s my fault.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong, Beau.”

I took a deep breath. “I need to make it better, Edward. I have to. I owe him that. And it’s one of Charlie’s conditions anyway—“

His face changed while I spoke, turning hard again, statue-like.

“You know it’s out of the question for you to be around a werewolf unprotected, Beau. And it would break the treaty if any of us cross over onto their land. Do you want us to start a war?”

“Of course not!”

“Then there’s really no point in discussing the matter further.” He dropped his hand and looked away, searching for a subject change. His eyes paused on something behind me, and he smiled, though his eyes stayed wary.

“I’m glad Charlie had decided to let you out—you’re sadly in need of a visit to the bookstore. I can’t believe you’re reading Wuthering Heights again. Don’t you know it by heart yet?”

“Not all of us have photographic memories,” I shrugged.

“Photographic memory or not, I don’t understand why you like it. The characters are ghastly people who ruin each other’s lives. I don’t know how Heathcliff and Cathy ended up being ranked with couples like Romeo and Juliet or Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. It isn’t a love story, it’s a hate story.”

“You have some serious issues with the classics,” I muttered.

“Perhaps it’s because I’m not impressed by antiquity.” He smiled, evidently satisfied that he’d distracted me. “Honestly, though, why do you read it over and over?” His eyes were vivid with real interest now, trying—again—to unravel the workings of my mind. He reached across the table to cradle my face in his hand. “What is it that appeals to you?”

His sincere curiosity disarmed me. “I’m not sure,” I said, searching my brain for reasons. “I think it’s something about the inevitability. How nothing can keep them apart—not her selfishness, or his evil, or even death, in the end…”

His face was thoughtful as he considered my words. After a moment he smile a teasing smile. “I still think it would be a better story if either of them had a redeeming quality.”

“I think that may be the point,” I disagreed. “Their love is their only redeeming quality.”

“I hope you have better sense that that—to fall in love with someone so… malignant.”

“It’s a bit late for me to worry about who I fall in love with,” I pointed out. “But even without the warning, I seem to have managed fairly well.”

He laughed quietly. “I’m glad you think so.”

“Well, I hope you’re smart enough to stay away from someone so selfish. Catherine is really the source of all the trouble, not Heathcliff.”

“I’ll be on my guard,” he promised.

I sighed. He was so good at distractions.

I put my hand over his to hold it to my face. “I need to see Jacob.”

His eyes closed. “No.”

“It’s really not dangerous at all,” I said, insisting. “I used to spend all day in La Push with the whole lot of them, and nothing ever happened.”

But I made a slip; my voice faltered at the end because I realized as I was saying the words that they were a lie. It was not true that nothing had happened. A brief flash of memory—an enormous gray wolf crouched to spring, baring his dagger-like teeth at me—had my palms sweating with an echo of remembered panic.

Edward heard my heart accelerate and nodded as if I’d acknowledged the lie aloud. “Werewolves are unstable. Sometimes, the people near them get hurt. Sometimes, they get killed.”

I wanted to deny it, but another image slowed my rebuttal. I saw in my head the once beautiful face of Emily Young, now marred by a trio of dark scars that dragged down the corner of her right eye and left her mouth warped forever into a lopsided scowl.

He waited, grimly triumphant, for me to find my voice.

“You don’t know them,” I finally said.

“I know them better than you think, Beau. I was here the last time.”

“The last time?”

“We started crossing paths with the wolves about seventy years ago… We had just settled near Hoquiam. That was before Alice and Jasper were with us. We outnumbered them, but that wouldn’t have stopped it from turning into a fight if not for Carlisle. He managed to convince Ephraim Black that coexisting was possible, and eventually we made the truce.”

Jacob’s great-grandfather’s name startled me.

“We thought the line had died out with Ephraim,” Edward muttered; it sounded like he was talking to himself now. “That the genetic quirk which allowed the transmutation had been lost…” He broke off and stared at me accusingly. “Your bad luck seems to get more potent every day. Do you realize that your insatiable pull for all things deadly was strong enough to recover a pack of mutant canines from extinction? If we could bottle your bad luck, we’d have a weapon of mass destruction on our hands.”

I ignored the ribbing, my attention caught by his assumption—was he serious? “But I didn’t bring them back. Don’t you know?”

“Know what?”

“My bad luck had nothing to do with it. The werewolves came back because the vampires did.”

Edward stared at me, his body motionless with surprise.

“Jacob told me that your family being here set things in motion. I thought you would already know…”

His eyes narrowed. “Is that what they think?”

“Edward, look at the facts. Seventy years ago, you came here, and the werewolves showed up. You come back now, and the werewolves show up again. Do you think that’s a coincidence?”

He blinked and his glare relaxed. “Carlisle will be interested in that theory.”

“Theory,” I scoffed.

He was silent for a moment, staring out the window into the rain; I imagined he was contemplating the fact that his family’s presence was turning the locals into giant dogs.

“Interesting, but not exactly relevant,” he murmured after a moment. “The situation remains the same.”

I could translate that easily enough: no werewolf friends.

I knew I had to try and be patient with Edward. It wasn’t that he was completely unreasonable—prone to taking things to extremes, sure—but not unreasonable. The problem was that he didn’t understand. He had no idea how very much I owed to Jacob Black—my life many times over, and possibly my sanity, too. Perhaps the love between Jacob and I was lost now, but I’d be damned if I didn’t go to help my friend when he was in a bad place, just like he had done for me.

I didn’t like to talk about that time with anyone anymore, and especially not Edward. He had only been trying to save me when he’d left, trying to save my soul. I couldn’t condone how he had gone about it, and he still had a lot of making up to do. But I, at least, was doing my best to forgive him.

He wouldn’t forgive himself.

So I would have to word my explanation very carefully.

I got up and walked around the table. He opened his arms for me and I sat on his lap, resting into his cool stone embrace. I ran my hand through his hair and looked him straight in the eyes while I spoke.

“Please just listen to me for a minute. This is so much more important than some whim to drop in on an old friend. Jacob is in pain.” My voice distorted around the word. “I can’t not try to help him—I can’t give up on him now, when he needs me. Just because he’s not human all the time… Well, he was there for me when I was… not feeling so human myself. You don’t know what it was like…” I hesitated. Edward’s eyes closed and his arms were rigid around me; his hands were in fists now, the tendons standing out. “If Jacob hadn’t helped me… I wouldn’t be where I am today. I owe him better than this, Edward.”

I watched his face warily. His eyes were still closed, and his jaw was strained.

“I’ll never forgive myself for leaving you,” he whispered. “Not if I live a hundred thousand years.”

I put my hand against his cold face and waited until he sighed and opened his eyes.

“I was really hoping you had learned your lesson about taking things to extremes.” I kissed him on the forehead. “You thought you were doing the right thing, even if it was a really awful way of doing it.” I ran my hand through his hair again. “Besides, you’re here now. You’re sorry, and you’re trying to make up for it. That’s the part that matters.”

“If I’d never left, you wouldn’t feel the need to go risk your life to comfort a dog.”

I flinched. I was used to Jacob had all his derogatory slurs—bloodsucker, leach, parasite… Somehow it sounded harsher in Edward’s velvet voice.

“I don’t know how to phrase this properly,” Edward said, and his tone was bleak. “It’s going to sound cruel, I suppose. But I’ve come too close to losing you in the past. I know what it feels like to think I have. I am not going to tolerate anything dangerous.”

“You have to trust me on this. I’ll be fine.”

His face was pained again. “Please, Beau,” he whispered.

I stared into his suddenly burning golden eyes. “Please what?”

“Please, for me. Please make a conscious effort to keep yourself safe. I’ll do everything I can, but I would appreciate a little help.”

“I’ll work on it,” I murmured.

“Do you really have any idea how important you are to me? Any concept of how much I love you?” He pulled me tighter against his hard chest, tucking my head under his chin.

I pressed my lips against his snow-cold neck. “I know how much I love you,” I answered.

“You compare one small tree to the entire forest.”

I rolled my eyes, but he couldn’t see. “Ha.”

He kissed the top of my head and sighed.

“No werewolves.”

“No deal. I’m not going along with that. I have to see Jacob.”

“Then I’ll have to stop you.”

He sounded utterly confident that this wouldn’t be a problem.

I was worried he was right.

“We’ll see about that,” I said anyway. “He’s still my friend.”

I could feel Jacob’s note in my pocket, like it suddenly weighed ten pounds. I could hear the words in his voice, and he seemed to be agreeing with Edward—something that would never happen in reality.

Doesn’t change anything. Sorry.

#Eclipse Revamped #3.1 #The Twilight Saga #The Twilight Saga Revamped

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footbaliimagines · 7 years

Text

confession (a whoever-you-want-it-to-be imagine)

this is a sequel to my other imagine, ‘unrequited’ which you can read here.

----

He used to be a confident guy.

The funny one, the loud one, the life of the party with a permanent smile on his face who was always guaranteed to produce a laugh, an assured smile and a witty comment.

(I mean, just ask any of his club’s supporters or watch one of the many ‘top 10 funny moments’ compilations he had featured in, scattered around Youtube with thousands of views and hundreds more comments.)

Not recently, though.

Recently, smiling had become somewhat of a chore.

He had grown accustomed to feeling those familiar face muscles stirring every time he was in her presence, used to laughing and feeling like a giddy thirteen-year-old with his first crush every time she looked at him or he heard her voice, sweet, gentle, like a song he wanted to play on repeat. But now, the realisation of what could be (or perhaps, what couldn’t) was starker than ever and smiling was a forced, enduring, difficult task that was only to be attempted when a camera was thrust in his face or a fan approached him in the streets.

It was foolish and naïve of him to have faith that this time, things would be different. Surely it was far too optimistic for him to believe that meeting a girl that was so perfect for him would happen easily, to believe that things would miraculously change, like a switch had been flicked, and that his romantic life would suddenly be taken over by a director of a shitty rom com.

He probably should have known better, or at least expected something like this was bound to happen. Her fiancé (the word still left a sour taste in his mouth) was 28, after all, 4 years older than her, and had often expressed his desire to settle down and start a family as soon as possible. He was a soppy, sentimental guy, and he couldn't think of anyone who wouldn't want to be her husband.

(In another universe, he would have put money on the inevitability of their engagement had he not been so hideously over invested.)

And, to make matters worse, he can’t for the life of him think of how he was going to tell her. Start things as normal, exchange meaningless, empty small talk, maybe offer a congratulatory hug on the engagement and then shoot her down and ask her to leave her fiancé?

Probably not his finest idea. Back to the drawing board it was.

Maybe he should just tell her flat out. No frills and no embellishments, just a straight-out confession of his feelings and then taking things as they come from then on.

(But he’s nervous, more nervous than he thinks he’s ever been, and he thinks it might be a better idea to ease into things more subtly, dip his toe and then reassess.)

(Then again, one glance at her and his brain would probably turn to mush.)

It's unfair and he wants to curse the world and blame the universe for what they've done and what they’ve put him through. How fucking cruel, how bloody awful, to introduce somebody like her and to tease him with her presence so often only to tug her away at the last moment, right out of his grasp, eliminating any possibility of a chance with her in the future. Dangling her in front of him in a cruel, torturous taunt.

(A ‘nice-try-you’re-almost-there-but-not-quite’, a ‘you-thought-you’d-be-able-get-into-a-healthy-happy-relationship-that-easily-haha-jokes-on-you’.)

It’s humid outside, and the sunset gives the whole street a warm, pinkish hue. The streets are busy and people are flurrying back and forward and his new shoes are pinching his toes.

He’s at his local florist’s. It’s the week before Valentine’s Day, so there are roses plastered up and down and across the walls and big pink signs displaying ‘3-for-2 on all Valentine’s flowers! Tell the person you love how you feel with one of our handmade, personalised bunches!’

He’s about to throw up.

“Engaged doesn’t mean married. Don’t give up.” The florist, a middle-aged woman with paint-stained dungarees and a kind smile, tells him.

He knows she’s not married yet, knows that just because she said yes to a dumb stupid romantic question it doesn’t mean that all roads will be closed off forever (I mean, he spent the better part of 2015 binge watching all 9 seasons of The Office, and is hoping something akin to Jim and Pam will happen for him), but it’s as close to terrible as things could probably be.

Nevertheless, he smiles gratefully at her and opens his mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. It’s like his throat is lined with sandpaper. “Uh, thanks. I, um-“ He stutters, mind whirling and nerves getting the better of him, so much so that even choking out a broken sentence is too difficult of a task.

“Save your words for her, love, not me.” She says humorously, picking up the bouquet she had been assembling and handing it over to him. “Good luck.”

“Thanks. I’ll need it.”

He’s gripping the flowers in his right hand so forcefully that his knuckles are turning white and the stems are at risk of snapping if his grasp tightens any further. In front of her, he’s absolutely undone.

And her ring, a shiny band adorned with a single, big diamond in the centre is the first (and only) thing he can focus on when she pulls the door open and grins, pulling him in for a hug.

(She smells like roses and their fingers brush when she takes the flowers from him.)

“Hey! Is everything okay?”

He nods quickly, too quickly. “I brought you these.”

“You didn’t have to bring us anything, you know.” She teases, smiling. “Come through to the kitchen, I’ll go and put these in a vase. Should I stick the kettle on?”

He can only smile in response, fearing that if he opened his mouth the words would just refuse to come. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Uh, water will be fine.”

She sticks the kettle on and pours him a glass, hoisting herself up onto a bar stool, swinging her legs and grinning at him. He mirrors her actions. She’s beautiful, and he’s always known it, but now he can’t look at her without having a weird feeling, a mixture of nerves and tension and nausea, swirling in his gut. He’s always been the kind of person to focus on small things and take pleasure in intricate details, but his enchantment with the tiniest things about her elevates things to another, astronomical level.

“So, what’s up?” She asks.

“Uh, I was wondering if we could have a chat?” He scratches his jaw.

She quirks her eyebrows, but the smile doesn’t leave her face. “Sure. I’m all ears.”

“So, um, engaged?”

As if by instinct, she glances proudly at her ring and a serene smile fixes on her face.

(It makes the thought of causing everything to crash down in front of her even more difficult to stomach.)

“Crazy, right? Can’t believe it myself.”

He swallows the lump in his throat. “Always wanted to get married?”

To his immense surprise, she snorts and shakes her head. “If you’d told 18-year-old me that I’d be engaged at 23 I would have slapped you. Far more interested in jagerbombs and ways to get guys in clubs to buy drinks for me.”

“Hm.”

“I mean, I know he wants to get married soon because he’s quite a few years older than me, and all that. Maybe kids. Well, I think they’re definitely part of his future. But I don’t know.”

She shudders, and only then does it become glaringly obvious that she’s just not right for him. Four years’ age difference is a long time. It meant different goals, different aims, different time frames. All in all, a bad fit.

(He would be a much better match for her.)

“Do you not want that?”

“I don’t know.”.

“Any reason why?”

“No reason. It’s just…weird. The thought of marriage is weird.”

“Weird how?”

“God, are you interrogating me?” She teases, crossing her arms across the chest.

His eyes are darting around the room like wildfire and his face is burning up, unable to settle on her gaze. She feels her face turn hot. “No,” he splutters, humiliated.

She lets out a small, nervous laugh and is just about to reply when the kettle pings. “What did you want to talk about? Wait, no- please don’t ask for the proposal story. I’ve already told my mum twice and all of my female relatives and my girlfriends about sixty-five times. If I have to do it again I think I might commit.”

He forces himself to chuckle, gritting his teeth as he fights back from telling her that there is nothing he wants to do less than listen to the story of how that ring ended up on her finger. “Hey, um, can I speak to you about something? Properly, I mean?”

“Oh, now I know what this is about.” There’s a glint in her eyes and he cocks his head at her. “Is this about when you want to rematch me at 8 ball pool?”

He lets out a breath and chokes out a stifled laugh. “Because I’m totally up for that. We could do it now, actually, if you wanted to! I just bought a new cue, and since discovering back spin my game has improved drastically, and- ”

“I just…I…”

“Hm?”

It’s like his voice is caught in his throat. “I- I…I’m in love with you.”

Her mouth falls open just a fraction, and he can feel his eyes sting with tears.

It’s been silent for too long, she hasn’t even made eye contact with him yet and he can envision it all in his brain. Rattled off responses of how much she values his friendship, excuses as to why nothing can happen, rehearsed and bullshit cliché sentences about how he has no idea how much of a great friend he is and why she truly hopes they can move past this together.

And he wants to be able to prepare himself, to think of alternatives and solutions in his brain and ways that maybe this won’t end horrifically, but he’s hit a dead end and all he can focus on is everything crashing down in front of him.

(He can’t help but think that there isn’t any way, other than taking her in his arms and kissing her and making everything feel better, that this could end well.)

“What?” Her voice has been reduced to a whisper.

“I just….I can’t go another day without telling you. And I know this is terrible timing and I probably seem like a huge prick but finding out that you were engaged was fucking….fucking- fuck, I can’t even find the word for it. But it was shit, and it made me realise that I need you to know, more than anything. Regardless of the outcome. I just have to tell you.” His voice cracks and his eyes well with tears and she begins to fiddle with that stupid goddamn ring in front of her waist.

She falls silent again, chewing on her bottom lip as he watches her eyes well with tears. A single droplet gathers in the corner of her eye and threatens to fall down her cheek, and it takes all the self-restraint in the world to stop himself from reaching forward to wipe it away.

“Please say something.” He speaks hoarsely.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Something. Anything.”

“Look-“ She begins to speak and he can tell from her tone of voice it’s not going to end well. “You’re a great friend. To me, and to him. And I appreciate you more than you know, I swear, and-“

“I think I should go.”

“You don’t have to leave.” She reaches out to grab his arm and he leaps away from her touch as if being burnt. “Please, stay.”

“I don’t know what you want from me.” He says, exasperated. “I just want an answer. Please.”

Her face breaks out into a soft, sad smile, and her eyes are welling with tears. She looks up at him and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Thank you for telling me.”

Her voice and demeanour changes. He drops his voice. “But?”

“I can’t.” She croaks.

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“Can’t do this.”

He presses, “Do what? Be with me? Talk to me?”

“I can’t marry him.”

He feels his stomach drop.

“I’m really sorry. I think you should leave.”

A.N.: i’m back!!!! finally written and uploaded the (much requested) second part of unrequited!! i really thought i’d be able to wrap everything up in one more piece but i couldn’t fit the above part and the ending (most of which is already written) into one piece and make it seem realistic at the same time if that makes sense. plus I really really really want this series (probably not the right word??) to have a happy ending (it will do, i promise!!!) and I wasn’t sure how to squeeze his feelings about the proposal & him confessing & her breaking it off with her fiancé & a happy ending all in one.

part 3 (jesus christ i’m dragging this on) should be up in the next few days because the bulk of it is already written!!!

(can you see how inspired I was by jim and pam and the office lol….took heavy inspo from pam’s response to jim and what michael said to jim too haha)

please give feedback as always and say hello or send in requests here & have a nosy at my masterlist if you can!!!

millie xxx

#my writing #football imagine #footballer imagine #football fanfiction #whoever you want it to be #whoever you want it to be imagine #right time to list as many footballers as possible lol #aaron ramsey #calum chambers #antoine griezmann #julian brandt #rob holding #hector bellerin

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anamuseinglife · 5 years

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Iditapod: Zirkle first to halfway. Plus: injuries, wildlife, and litter names.

Ed Hopkins: He thought he did a lot of rough and rowdy things in his day, and I was thinking about it as I was bouncing through the burn, thinking, well, Richie ain’t seen nothing yet

[theme music plays]

Casey Grove: Welcome to the Iditapod, it’s a podcast about laughing in the face of danger all the way down the Iditarod trail. We cover the race as well. The Iditapod is a production of Alaska Public Media and KNOM radio in Nome. I’m your host, Casey Grove, and before we have too much fun here, how about a word from our sponsor.

[ad plays]

CG: Yes, that was Ed Hopkins from Canada’s Yukon Territory off the top there, he has a great laugh. And, a great mustache. We’re gonna hear more from him later about temperatures warmer than he’s used to, and animal encounters on the trail, which he is familiar. But first, this race is shaping up. It’s Thursday, and Aliy Zirkle has taken the lead after pushing past other mushers who are resting in Takotna and Ophir, onto the old mining town checkpoint of Iditarod. It’s actually a ghost town, nobody lives there. Aliy says she’s never spent her 24 hour layover there, and she wins the Dorothy G. Page award, $3,000 in gold nuggets for being the first to Iditarod. I think they offered her a gold iPhone, the newest one, either that or the $3,000 in gold nuggets, I’m guessing she took the nuggets but I guess we will find out later. Anyways, Aliy’s SP Kennel team, all 14 dogs, pulled into the checkpoint around 1:15 am Thursday morning, starting their 24 hour rest in the lead. That’s going to change some time today though, I would expect, Zirkle’s competition started to come off of their mandatory 24 hour rests already. In Takotna, where our trail reporter Zachariah Hughes was at the time, defending champion Joar Leifseth Ulsom pulled out a couple minutes before 8pm Wednesday night, with 13 dogs.

Unidentified Woman: You can leave anytime.

Joar Leifseth Ulsom: Alright. Thank you guys for all the help

CG: And a wave of front pack mushers followed Ulsom in the hours after. Not far ahead, a group of another group that had pushed onto the Ophir checkpoint, that includes Girdwoods’ Nicolas Petit, they also began making that 80 mile leg to Iditarod. That run has appeared to be a slog. Zirkle and Martin Buser spent much of the day pushing to get there before declaring their 24s. Zirkle’s average moving pace was a little slow, as was Buser’s, and that suggests that the trail was challenging and slow. I saw a video of Buser going through Takotna and there was light snow falling, and that can lead to a little slower going on the trail. What’s more, it’s been warm around the three Yukon River communities that mushers will hit after Iditarod. Race judge and past Iditarod finisher Karin Hendrickson says that caused some drop bags in Shageluk to thaw.

Karin Hendrickson: So, that can affect the meat. Um, and we just let the know in case they want to change up their plans a bit, or maybe haul some extra meat out of Iditarod, just trying to adapt and have the information that they need.

CG: The trail between Iditarod and Shageluk is slow and hilly, meaning any extra supplies that the mushers pack under their sleds will weigh them down even more. It’s not uncommon for drop bags to thaw, but it increases the risk that a team could get spoiled meat. Nobody wants that. Mushers who plan to take their mandatory 8 hour rest in Shageluk, might push 20 miles upriver to the checkpoint in Anvik to avoid that. Back up the trail, a lot of Iditarod mushers opted to take their 24 in Takotna, known for its pies. That pause, for a full 24 hours, it allows some of the stories from the trail to trickle out. Whether, as we’re going to hear from Alaska Public Media’s Zachariah Hughes, their stories about animal encounters, sled malfunctions, or late night injuries.

Zachariah Hughes: Between here and the run from Nikolai, Richie Diehl got… walloped.

Richie Diehl: I was looking off the side of the trail, like a 45 to the trail, out of the corner of my eye I noticed a little reflection off the side of my eye, I turned my head there was a tree with a reflector on it. It hit me. I flew off the sled, and um, next thing I knew I was on a desperate chasing the sled down, and I dove and caught the sled, and then suddenly I was standing the middle of the dogs and they were all staring at me, and there was blood everywhere. I initially thought I had knocked out all my front teeth.

ZH: Once back on his sled runners, he could tell it was a serious wound, and he cleaned it with toilet paper and wet wipes as he continued on. In Nikolai that morning, folks brought him to the clinic for butterfly stitches. But it’s not throwing much of a kink into Diehl’s race. He can see fine, is taking care of the wound, and plans to continue on as normal at a competitive pace. Not far from his team, is Ed Hopkins, technically an Iditarod rookie, but a seasoned veteran of the Yukon Quest.

Ed Hopkins: I underestimated, I thought I had it figured out, but obviously I didn’t do enough homework.

ZH: Hopkins says it’s the midday heat, timing runs to avoid it, that’s the biggest curveball for his team and race strategy.

EH: I mean, I know how to run in really cold weather and things like that, and I’m doing it for a long time you know, but this is new to me.

ZH: The other major hiccup was the state of the Buffalo Tunnels, a rough ride over tussocks and frozen soil, with barely any snow to cover the bumps. Hopkins didn’t see the bison in the area, just massive signs that they’d been around. Moose, however, he did see. And, so did Jeff King.

Jeff King: You know, I’ve lived in Alaska 40 years, and I still get that close to a moose, and some of them, you just can’t help but be like oh my god, it’s just like a dinosaur, it’s so huge! And these both were just enormous! I mean, good LORD they’re huge. Like a clydesdale horse!

ZH: King had two separate encounters, but made it out of both unscathed. Not without excitement though.

JK: He thought we were chasing them and we ran, I saw his hackles go up, and he’s like okay I’m in for a fight. And I, I encouraged the dogs to go fast, because it was clear he thought we were chasing him, and so the moose is thinking ‘you’re chasing me’ and I really wanted to outrun him. And it wasn’t until we kind of got in front of him, we were winning the sprint.

ZH: As King is talking, he’s swapping out the runner plastic on his sled. He’s mounting wide, white strips, about the width of a palm, that will hopefully help him stay floating on top of the new, fresh snow during the upcoming sections of trail. A bit like replacing normal cross-country skis with wide, backcountry ones. Though, the trail was hard and fast for early stretches of the race heading up into the Alaska Range, it’s slowed down in the last day on the way into the interior. It’s not clear how much of a role the good trail conditions are playing in one novel element of this years race. As of Wednesday afternoon, only one musher had scratched: Shaynee Traska, in Nikolai. Bruce Lee works for the Iditarod Insider, and is a race veteran, and he says he doesn’t recall a single race with just a single scratch this far into competition.

Bruce Lee: Which speaks pretty highly to the caliber of dogs people are raising now, and the knowledge that previous mushers have passed on to rookies about feeding, and equipment. That’s a pretty successful race to get here and not have a scratch.

ZH: Competitors this year are also more closely bunched together than in prior years, but after front of the pack mushers come off their 24 hour rests, the race starts to speed up. In Takotna, I’m Zachariah Hughes.

Casey Grove: Well, we’ve heard from Ed Hopkins a couple times now, and we will have head thrice now to answer today’s listener question. That comes to us from Ed’s homeland, that’s Canada, but a little further south than his and Michelle Phillips Taggish Lake kennel is located.

Lisa Hale: Hi Iditapod crew, this is Lisa Hale in Vancouver. Like many people, I’ve been brought into the mushing world by Blair Braverman and her Ugly Dogs. My question is this: I’ve heard that moose are really dangerous and can even attack sled dogs. What strategies do mushers use if they run into a moose on the trail? Thanks a lot!

CG: Thanks for the great question Lisa, and for the shoutout to all the fans of the Ugly Dogs and Blair Braverman listening to the Iditapod, we appreciate y’all coming along with us. We posted an interview with Quince Mountain from Skwentna, recorded on Wednesday. He is out there, on the trail, struggling with a snow machine but it sounds like they got some things sorted out. So, this question about animal encounters along the trail - it’s something that comes up not only just when the mushers are training, but also during the Iditarod, pretty regularly. Last year, there was a story about Marcelle Fressineau chasing a bison off the trail with her axe, or at least wielding an axe to protect herself as needed. And, you know, they see moose out there and other animals, and this is where Ed is going to come back in. Zach asked Ed about this very question.

Zachariah Hughes: I mean, out where you guys are, in Taggish, do you see moose on the trail ever?

Ed Hopkins: Yeah, moose and lots of caribou.

ZH: For a moose or a caribou, with a team like yours, do you just let them pass and hope that the dogs quiet down? Or do you try and get out in front of it and scare it off?

EH: Well, the caribou are different because they can just run through the trees and they’ll run out on the trail in front of you or behind you, and your dogs just kind of look but they’ll keep on going straight. But the moose on this side of the border, they seem to be a little bit more aggressive. I’ve had a couple of moose that just cross the trail, but they just stop right there. And I would just, okay, what are you gonna do. Because I’m not stopping. And I would just yell and scream and the dogs would start barking, they all start barking like crazy. And I think that’s what scared them off. You know, if one or two bark, maybe they would come at em, but they all just bellowed at him and he just took right off, both of em.

ZH: That was on this trail? Or was that earlier? EH: That was on this trail, this was going between, after… after the burn, going into Nikolai.

ZH: Big bull moose, or cows?

EH: Eh, like a three year old bull, couple of three year old bulls.

ZH: You seem unfazed by it.

EH: No, I mean, I have bigger bulls that run around my place, I mean, I got some air horns and other kinds of gadgets in here I could have used if I wanted.

Casey Grove: But I guess Ed didn’t need that air horn, thankfully. It’s always an interesting thing to hear about the animal encounters. Something I’ve always been interested in and something you ask the mushers about as a reporter, is sort of this quirky thing about the dog mushing world. That’s when a new litter of puppies is born, often times there will be a theme to the name their given. For example, Nic Petit has dogs from a litter named after champion Iditarod mushers. Libby, for example, is short for Libby Riddles, the first woman to win the race. This is a topic, the naming of different litters and using different themes, that Zach is really delighted by as well. And in Takotna, he recently found his new, favorite examples.

ZH: I like littera names because they’re usually funny and sometimes, kind of self referential and creative. A friend of mine in Nome had a litter named after cuts of beef - so, Ribeye, Flank, and Brisket. Another set of his dogs had weather themed names, like Rainy, Windy, and Flood. It’s a lot more elemental. Rookie Blair Braverman, who’s a writer, has a set of dogs named after famous authors. So, Hunter S. Thompson, Gay Talese, and James Baldwin, those are some of the. Another litter she has is named after characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, a beloved movie and TV series from the 90s. But I have to say, so far, my favorite theme is Matt Failor’s heavy metal litter.

Matt Failor: This is Iron Maiden, this is Pink Floyd, Panterra, Led Zeppelin, and Ronnie James Dio. And, um, those are the heavy metal bands. And then my buddy, Michael Baker, who’s running our two year old/B-team, he has the hair metal, the glam rock. David Bowie, Billy Idol, um -

ZH: Twisted Sister?

MF: Twisted Sister, did you meet them already?

ZH: No, I’m just guessing. Is Whitesnake in there?

MF: We had a Whitesnake, we turned her into a pet dog, she wasn’t really enjoying the thousand mile perspective so she’s a pet dog in Michigan. And then, I can’t think of the other names - oh, Van Halen, Motley Crue. And Bon Jovi. Yeah. Gotta love the 80s.

ZH: The hair metal theme’s cute, kind of kitschy, but I think the idea of naming a bunch of sled dogs after heavy metal bands, like Panterra, is funny.

[“Raining Blood” by Slayer begins playing]

ZH: Because, the style of music, that heavy, sludgy, doomy whole genre, is like the complete opposite of mushing in the middle of wilderness. But, if that’s the excuse you need to yell out things like “GEE Iron Maiden”, or “HAW Twisted Sister”, then I’m for it.

[“Raining Blood” shifts into a banjo cover by Rob Scallon]

Casey Grove: Whooooaaaa! Slayer! That is the song “Raining Blood” off of Slayer’s album “Reign in Blood”, released in 1986. Zach is going out on. I’m going out on the same song, by Rob Scallon, that’s a banjo cover of “Raining Blood”. Our usual theme music is by the band Sassafrass, they were off the top. But that’s not what’s happening today, this is happening today.

[banjo gets louder]

CG: Well, folks, that’s all the time we have today. We will be back tomorrow with another episode of the Iditipod. Until then, happy trails.

[banjo increases in volume]

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