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una-hopeless-romantic1118 · 1 year

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𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐕: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬?—𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐨𝐣𝐚𝐬/𝐑𝐡𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐬

a/n: thank you THANK YOU guys for so much for the love lately. writing abt warren for yall and reading your guys' comments has been such a serotonin boost. I LOVE YOU ALL <333

timeline: ep. 3 + Christmas scene (kinda...)

-> Part 1

-> Part 2

-> Part 3

This chapter: Part 4

Part 5

Epilogue (cancelled)

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

warnings: not proofread as always <3, cursing, first Billy mention, angst (turned to fluff calm down), drinking, confusing time progression, implied sex teehee

summary (of this chapter): a visit to Laurel Canyon simply to talk to a friend and drop off a personally made outfit to a special costumer, ended in confessions and closures.

(if that didn't make sense, dammit just read the chapter)

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Warren's either on something, or..." Eddie snickered at the offended Warren, "...yeah. Heh."

"I'm telling the truth, man!" Warren threw his hands up in frustration. "Guys, seriously."

"Warren, man, how do you expect us to react?" Graham took a swig of his beer. "It's just not...believable."

"We want proof." Eddie challenged him.

"Like what?" Warren scoffed. "What-What do you want me to show you guys?"

"You're creative man, I dunno, her bra?"

Warren leaned forward like he wasn't sure he heard his friend correctly. "Her bra?" He repeated. It triggered a nerve he didn't know could be triggered.

"There," Graham pointed at Warren's visible provoked tone. "That was enough proof. If he doesn't have it, then he never did it."

"Or!" Warren scoffed at both of his friends. "This is something I don't want to mess up. This is something new to me, and so far I think I have a good chance of getting something real. We kissed. We hung out. We laugh about things. I get her. I didn't have to do it."

A moment of silence and unsure glances were shared between the two friends, until the image of the woman and Warren talking to one another at that yacht party submerged from Graham's drunken and sluggish thoughts.

"Woah woah woah," He pushed himself to sit up. "What about Flora, the girl from the yacht party? You were just hooked on her."

Warren's lips immediately spread into a prideful grin. "That is her."

"Y/N Augustine...is Flora...?" Eddie frowned into space.

"Yeah!"

Only laughter erupted from the two drunk men, in turn making Warren grow more impatient with them.

"Fuck you guys, where's Karen?"

"Oh okay." Eddie shook his hands mockingly. "As if Karen will believe you any better."

Warren enters the house, almost tumbling over Camilla crouched down to the babbling Julia.

She noticed his tensed up presence. "Hey, War," she smiled up at him, "something wrong?"

"Nah, don't worry about it," he waved her off, clearly distracted. "Where's Karen? I need her to back me up for something."

"She's out by the front, I think," she squints through the sunlight seeping through the window. “She said not to bother her, though.”

A figure comes in through the front door, but it was just Billy, much to Warren's disappointment.

"Hey man, is Karen talking to somebody out there?"

Billy furrows his eyebrows at him. "Yeah, but I wouldn't...want to interrupt."

"I just need to steal her for a minute."

"Warren, she's kind of important." He warned. "I wouldn't-"

Warren took it as a further indicator that the guest was Y/N. Karen couldn't possibly know anyone else as famous. He marches past him to the door, and when he swings it open to find Karen gathered on a table with the familiar woman sipping tea together, he instantly rushes to them.

Karen sees the black-haired figure she feared would eventually come and interrupt her time with her friend, and she couldn't help but groan out.

"Will anyone just give be a bloody minute to have things to myself? I mean, fuck!"

"Hello ladies," Warren greeted anyways as he stood in front of them. He waves at Y/N peering up at him through her pink-tinted sunglasses. His hands twitched at the sight of her in a purple see-through kind of cloth for her puffy long sleeves, her white bra visible. "Hey."

Karen took note of the way Warren's usual composure to be nonchalant suddenly sloughed off at the sight of Y/N. He actually seemed tense, and clammy, and giddy all at the same time.

"Hi."

And Karen took note of Y/N's. Her normal response to push away any means of flirting was suddenly forgotten at the sight of Warren's cheeky smile. Her "migraine" from having to work with a well-known celebrity who turned out to be a complete bitch from a few hours ago suddenly disappeared, seeing as now she was grinning up at him.

•─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────•

Karen: There was this...excruciatingly flirty tone in their voices. It was annoying for me to be the one to witness it.

But it was adorable how vulnerable they made each other, even from that simple greeting. Mind you, I didn't know what was going on between the pair. And everything about the way they looked at each other that day seemed...innocent. Pure, if you will.

Well, yes, I sent Warren to her condo so that I didn't have to explain to the poor guy that Y/N Augustine was messing with him the whole time. I sent him there because I knew she needed someone like him, and I knew he needed her too, in the best way.

•─────⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

"You sound like you're in a rush, War," Karen faked a smile. "Why don't you get on with it so you're not wasting our time?"

Warren frowns down at her. "I mean, I was going to ask to borrow here politely, but I think I'm just going to take her now."

"Mm," Y/N hummed. "I love being objectified."

"Sorry baby," Warren apologized, squeezing her bare shoulders. "I got some stubborn friends who don't believe I've gone more than 6 feet of you. Gotta humiliate them. You like humiliating people, why don't we make this a date?"

"I'm sorry, did I miss something?" Karen gagged, pointing to the both of them. "I don't like this."

"Too bad, Sirko-"

"No, she's right." Y/N retorted. "I didn't agree to anything. I only came here for this." She reached below her seat for the red, shiny box, and Warren's eyes widen like saucers.

He lets out what sounded like a high-pitched scream, and a gasp at the same time. "For me? Aw, baby..." His eyes set on her admiringly. "You shouldn't have!"

Warren should've seen the incoming sarcastic remark a mile away. "Are you kidding me?! Of course I had to! I mean, I lost a total of 5 hours of sleep for this, and I have more pricks on my hand than a local cactus...but who cares?"

So Warren decides to play along. "I love me a tough woman."

But his swagger was immediately washed down with humiliation when Y/N stopped herself from continuing it.

"What the hell, Augustine? That's what that was?" Karen scoffed, taking into her hands a white tag attached to the strings of a ribbon tied to complete the look of the present. The tag was titled Serenity by Y/N Augustine. "Is that what I think it is?"

Y/N smiles awkwardly, and all Karen could do was sit with an agape mouth, trying to restrain herself from strangling her friend.

"I want to wear your work!" She whines. "I've been begging you to make me something for ages! What's his reason for one?"

Warren pulls up a chair and starts ripping the red wrapper. "Pretty privilege." He shrugged.

"Oh!" Karen moved her head back in offense. "Do you want to go, Rojas? I knew Y/N way before you even thought about snagging her!"

"Karen, can we calm down?!" Y/N yelled at her, laughing. "What's in a few weeks?"

She thinks about it for a minute. "Christmas-oh. Oh!"

Meanwhile, Warren had stood up from his seat to try on the his new light brown leather vest, embroidered with flowers on the bottom, and then-

“There they are.” Warren chuckled as he pointed out the bejeweled part of the vest. The jewels were tiny and silver, and acted as borders of the flowers, and went to border the rest of the vest.

From far away, Warren noticed that they were made to stand out. Not too glamorous, but definitely not too basic that can be found at a lame, store at the mall.

No, this was designer. This was by Y/N Augustine, the fashion icon.

“I did what you suggested,” Y/N squinted up at him. “I’m still getting used to how I want to use them on clothes. I don't want the to look to over the top."

“Not bad, baby. I like it.” He chuckles as he lifts his shirt off.

“This is the part where I leave.” Karen whispered to her, a disturbed look on her face, before walking off inside with her tea.

And maybe it was a good idea Karen left.

Y/N stares openly at his bare body. His bare chest.

Holy cow.

“You take your shirt off for every girl?” She mused. But at the same time, she was serious, with a hint of suspicion.

“Nah, just you.” He remarked before swinging his arms through the vest. It slid fit into his body easily. “Such fine art is reserved for the finer art.”

“Geeze, Rojas.” Was all she could muster up, out of complete flattery. Normally she would find these pick-up lines completely overused that it’s lost meaning, or that it’s meaningless as it is.

But she was believing this so easily. Way too easily.

The weird thing is, she likes it. She actually looks forward to them, and at the same time she's disgusted by her own smittenness.

Is that even a word?

Warren pats the vest against his chest and dusts off invisible dust. “How’d you know my size?”

“Called you to ask." She sipped her tea. "Woman named Camilla answered, though."

"That's why she snuck in my room to grab a vest. Could've just asked me to take over, though."

Y/N laughed. "The conversation went on for hours. She's lovely to talk to. I want to meet her in person today."

Warren couldn't help but get ticked off. She's touched every nerve he had, it felt like, but she was avoiding anything that had to do with him.

He was right in front of her, and all she could do was avoid him every possible way.

It was like every step Warren took, with Y/N's coldness, he'd have to take a way more steps back than he did forward. Approaching her kept hurting him.

And the only way she's approached him? It was a kiss, the best and most sensual kiss he's ever felt, one that seemed to keep him breathless and despite it, left her wanting for more. It was a kiss he's been wanting more of at every thought, every mention of her name.

And while the kiss was a moment he'd never forget, it seemed like for Y/N she had forgotten it as soon as it was over.

Y/N senses his change of demeanor just by the way he slipped out of the vest. "What's wrong?"

"Can we talk about it?" His voice wavered. Asking about it physically pained Warren, but he pushed through. "Alright? It's the least you could do."

Y/N swallows thickly, her eyes darting off to her shoes. "About what?"

"Y'know exactly what." Warren inhaled sharply as he slipped back into his t-shirt. "What is this, even? What do you expect out of this?" He motioned to the two of them. "Because I'll tell you what I want it to be. Y/N I barely know you, but I've already picked up enough about you to know that you are just about the only person I know that's stuck on me. You're different, and it's so comforting and-and nice to see someone stick to their own thing and not feel the need to conform to be part of the crowd. Do you know how refreshing that is? And, fuck, that kiss-"

Warren saw a slight tremble in her bottom lip, and he wasn't sure if he should stop or not.

"I'm not..." she clenched her jaw, surprisingly, not out of anger. "I'm not the happiest right now."

"Well that's fucking perfect, Y/N." He pointed at his chest. "I'm. Right. Here."

She shook her head, her eyes shut. "Don't-"

"I can do it." He reassured her in a low, husky voice. He took the risk of placing a hand on hers. "I doubted it for a second, that I'm holding you back or something, but nothing does. Nothing can hold you back. You do your own shit, and everyone just follows along, because you're such a force. For fighting about women's rights, donating to charities even I've never heard about-"

Y/N's heart only jammed against her ribcage violently. "How'd you know about that?" She whispered under her breath in disbelief.

He shrugged with a smile. "A man's gotta do his research."

She can't possibly give in, and it wasn't about her career now.

She's scared if she gives in, that she's just using him to fill in the emptiness of her life. A good—the best man she's probably met for noticing what others couldn't about her, for noticing what she herself couldn't notice.

She had just submitted a few of her bejeweled and other unique and risky clothing projects like Warren encouraged her to, and her team loved them.

When no answer came out of her, Warren continued, swiping his thumb over and over on her hand. "I've done all the research I can do, now I really want to see you behind the camera, behind the press."

It easily hit every doubt Y/N had in her heart down and dead. "Dammit, Warren-" she choked out, a hand over her eyes.

"Hey, look." He chuckled out. "I'm asking for a lot, but we can take this as slow as you want-"

"You're so fucking stubborn." She sniffed, slapping his hand away out of flattery. "Fuck you."

"Is that a yes? I don't have to go on one knee right now though, right?"

Y/N only shook her head and brought his lips to hers hungrily.

No, he didn't have to go down on one knee right now.

•─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────•

Warren: Y'know, there were a lot of things I wish I could go back and experience again, but nothing beats the shocked look on those motherfuckers' faces that day when I came back with my sweet babe of a girlfriend wrapped around my arm *chuckles*

Eh, well,*he ticks* they actually haven't met her until Christmas day, which wasn't until a few weeks later. And I had some making up to do, which was perfect.

•─────⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

"You promised me a drum lesson." Y/N panted out a laugh. Even after the high, she was able to push herself up on her elbows on the lofty bed. "To brush off my drumming skills because the drummer from the Six said I needed 'some help."

The said drummer followed her up and smiled against the corner of her lips. "Look who's gullible now." He teased.

He makes a trail of kisses from the neck and up, and with his mustache, earned him a few squeals and screams.

"One of these days I'm going have to elbow you or break your nose," she giggled out. "Warren, stop!"

He doesn't, and the sound of her giggling and laughing only encouraged him to kiss her harder on her neck, and with every pursing of his lips his mustache followed, tickling her. "You love my nose and my mustache."

"Warren, fuck!" Y/N moved away and grabbed her bedside alarm. "The dinner was supposed to start 2 hours ago."

"Well shit," Warren shrugged, clearly ignoring his lover's panic. "Too late for anything now. I think we should just stay here, on this bed, making lo-"

"Oy vey," she muttered under her breath, staring at the clock in dismay once again.

"Baby," he stifled a moan against her shoulder. "What did I say about speaking French to me? Fuck..."

"That wasn't even-I'm getting dressed." Y/N stumbles out of her entangled formation with her boyfriend to get to her closet.

When no movement followed her, Y/N threatened, "Warren, if you don't get up I'm dragging you out by your mustache."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

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