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zafirosreverie · 2 years

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Por amor al arte (Julieta x Fem!Reader) part 20

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You sighed as you leaned on Isabela to keep from falling to your knees. It was a cleaning day. You had put this aside partly because you didn't want to be separated from Karim and partly because it was simply too painful to see your home burned to the ground. But deadlines are always met and you couldn't shut yourself up in Casita forever (no matter how much Alma y Julieta offered you), you'd have to start over at some point.

You were not stupid, you knew that almost anything could be saved. What was once your home was burned to the ground, the floor and ceiling boards were gone and only worm-eaten bits of furniture remained. Your books, your and Eli's clothes, her wooden toys, and most of your work were gone. There were a few salvageable pieces of the crib, cups, and plates. Karim's house was no better, only some of his field tools were still useful.

You wanted to cry from helplessness, from knowing that everything you had was gone because of the simple whim and hatred of some people to whom you had never done anything.

"We can come back later" Isabela told you, squeezing your shoulder "we don't have to do it today"

"I don't think I have the strength to come back later" you admitted

The girl nodded and gave you a quick sideways hug before parting ways and walking to what was once your home. Every step you took sent a shiver down your spine, pieces of rotten wood crunched under you and you knew you had to hurry or you'd collapse. For a moment you wanted to have Julieta by your side, but you had asked her to stay with Eliza and Karim.

It hurt you a little to see the pain in her eyes and you knew that she felt like when her family had forbidden her to help rebuild Casita, so you quickly assured her that it was only in the morning, after eating, when Pepa would have finished her chores and could take care of Eliza, you would take her. The brunette had given you a small smile, accepting the deal. You didn't mean for her to feel like you were letting her down, but you'd also be lying if you said you weren't trying to put some distance between you.

Not much, because you knew deep down that you could never stay away from her, but you needed to collect your thoughts about her. You missed the moments when your heart didn't want to jump out of your chest for only listening to her voice, or when her cakes and sweets aroma brought you comfort instead of intoxicating and seducing you. You missed being able to joke with her, hold her hand, hug her and kiss her cheeks for the simple fact of enjoying her presence, without your mind wandering to darker places.

But you couldn't go back, you had crossed a line that you didn't know was there and now you had to live with it. The problem was that every day it was more difficult to be with her as a friend, especially when there was a dream engraved in your mind. A few nights ago, you had dreamed of a pair of soft lips brushing against yours, in a kiss that wasn't really a kiss. And you had blushed the next day when your treacherous mind wished they were Julieta's.

"Damn, did you have to steal my heart, Juli?" you thought while you dug between the earth and the ash.

You were so lost in your thoughts about her, that you didn't even realize that her three daughters were gathered in the ruins of your brother's house, while the oldest was holding something against her chest.

__________________________

Finding something in all this mess would be difficult and everyone knew it, it was more than anything an effort to help you find comfort or resignation. A little push to close a chapter in your life and open another in which everyone hoped they could fit. However, finding a notebook under the boards that she assumed used to be your brother's bed was not something that Isabela expected.

The notebook had scorched edges and was folded due to the moisture from the rain Pepa had put out the fire with, but other than that, it was in a relatively good state and Karim's doodles were still understandable on some of the pages. The girl had been about to call you to give it to you when a word caught her attention: Julieta.

Why was her mother's name on it? Well, there was only one way to find out. It only took her a couple of seconds to figure out that you weren't the only one writing songs, and she got the feeling that you were all being puppets of the universe, that was just waiting to put the pieces together little by little. She and her sisters (and apparently the rest of the family) had been looking for ways to get you together with her mother, but nothing had worked. Who would have thought that it would be Karim, sweet and tender Karim, still far from this world, who would perhaps provide the solution?

She called out to her sisters, careful that you wouldn’t hear her (which wasn't difficult because you seemed too busy with your own thoughts), and waited until they were close enough to show them her discovery.

"What's that?" Luisa asked

"It's Karim's notebook"

"And why don't you give it to Y/N?" Mirabel looked at her

"I will do it!" Isabela defended herself “later. Check this out"

Her younger sisters looked at each other for a moment before Mirabel took the notebook and read in silence, Luisa reading over her shoulder. It took only a few moments for the two of them to be filled with the same emotion as Isabela and they looked at her with big smiles.

“Isa, this is perfect!” Mirabel shrieked, causing her sister to silence her.

"I know!" the older one said after making sure that you still weren't looking at them "now we just have to find the right time to use it"

____________________________

"How did it go?" Julieta asked softly as you walked into the kitchen.

She had been worried all day. She had wanted to go with you, not wanting you to be alone at a time that she knew from experience how hard it could be. But you had rejected her, you had left her behind, and that had hurt her. Were you upset with her? Perhaps she had done something, she had held you a moment too long? Had one of her kisses landed too close to your mouth? It terrified her to think that maybe you were realizing her true feelings for you and were trying to gently push her away.

It wasn't until you promised to take her with you later, reminding her that Eli couldn't be left alone, that she woke up and realized she was being ridiculous. She couldn't help it, a part of her felt that little by little she was getting used to having you by her side and if she allowed herself to be selfish, she feared the day everything would be fixed and you would leave. It had been too hard to say goodbye to you when they returned to Casita, she wasn't sure she could do it a second time. But there was still time for that, and she should enjoy your company to the fullest.

"As I suspected" you said "there's not much I can save"

"I'm sorry"

You simply gave her a sad smile as she gave you a quick hug. You tried to ignore the way your heart jumped at the smell of the unmistakable aroma of alfajores on her. You knew that she was preparing them especially for you.

"And you? How was your morning?” you asked when you pulled away from her "Did my little demon, give you a lot of trouble?"

Julieta raised an eyebrow and turned her head in the direction of Eliza, who was sitting in the corner of the kitchen, playing with a couple of casseroles and wooden spoons that the brunette had lent her.

“Does this look like the face of someone who would give me trouble?” she asked you "And don't call her that again in my presence" she scolded you

"Okay, sorry" you laughed when she gave you a gentle poke with the ladle "did you at least have a fun morning?"

“Well, we almost had an accident and a baked jingle bell, but other than that, yeah, we had fun. We made cookies”

The brunette pointed to the tray that was on the bar and you could see a lot of finely decorated cookies. You knew your daughter had probably just been used as a human mixer.

"They look delicious" you smiled "thanks for taking care of her"

"You know it's always a pleasure, Y/N"

For a moment, you two stared at each other, goofy smiles on your faces. You didn't know what, but you felt the need to be close to her, so you put your hands on her hips and pulled her close. She was surprised, looking at your face and trying to understand your sudden movement. She didn't know what you were playing at, but her brain shut down the moment her eyes met yours and her hands instinctively settled on your shoulders. Her pulse quickened as your face moved closer to hers and you could smell the sugar and chocolate from the cookies on her warm breath, calling to you.

“Y/N” she whispered, almost imploring you to stop looking at her. She needed you to kiss her soon and stop playing with her heart.

And you had every intention of doing it. You wanted to recreate that dream in which a pair of lips brushed yours, and you knew there was no one else but her with whom you wanted to make it come true. The older woman blushed beautifully as you drew closer and her eyes began to slowly close as she leaned in to meet you halfway. You were almost there. Her lips brushed against yours like that night and then…

Then a dull thud made you jump out of your skin. The fog in your minds suddenly lifted and the two of you quickly separated, looking everywhere but at each other. Your face was hot and you didn't need to see her to know she wasn't any better. Of the two of you she was always the easiest to blush, even though her dark skin helped hide it. You turned to Eli to see that it had been one of her casseroles that had broken the spell. However, everything was erased from your mind when you saw your girl standing on her own, away from the wall.

Julieta cursed herself as she turned her back on you. She couldn't believe that she had been so foolish, that she almost made the worst mistake of her life. She could have ruined her friendship with you!! (and yet it hurt her more to know that she came so close to having what she so desired). Her heart was beating a thousand miles an hour and she wanted to cry for all the feelings that were fighting inside her.

"Juli" you whispered.

She didn't want to turn around, too scared to face you. But then you took her hand and pulled gently but vigorously, surprising her. It wasn't the reaction she had expected after she almost kissed you.

"Julieta" you urged her, patting her hand gently "Julieta, look"

The woman finally turned to you, frowning when she realized you weren't even looking at her. She followed your gaze and just like you, she forgot about the incident in one fell swoop. Eliza was standing on her own. More than that, she looked ready to start walking.

"Oh my god" she gasped silently.

You looked at her with a huge smile and you crouched down, opening your arms for your daughter. Eli laughed adorably and babbled a bit before moving one of her feet. One step became two, then three, and then tears came to your eyes as you and Julieta cheered the baby. Eli stumbled slowly but surely towards you.

"She is walking" you said, full of pride "my girl is big"

The brunette just laughed softly, watching as your daughter inched toward you. However, she was confused when Eliza dodged your outstretched arms and walked past you. You blinked and watched as your daughter came up to the older woman, hugging her legs with her little arms and giggling. Your friend looked at you for a moment but you smiled and winked at her, letting her know that it was okay, so she reached down to take your daughter into her arms.

“The betrayal, sis” you said, standing up “Listen here, little miss, I carried you 9 months in my being and that's how you pay me? I feel offended"

Julieta laughed when Eli grunted and snuggled deeper into her arms. Any trace that might have remained of that awkward moment between you was erased by the magic of the little angel in her arms and she was grateful for it, she hadn't crossed the point of no return and she hadn't lost you.

“I am your mother, Eliza Valentina, respect me” you said, poking your daughter's sides to make her laugh and wriggle against the brunette.

“Leave her alone, Y/N” Julieta laughed “just accept that she loves me more”

"Uy si, Uy si, mamá Julieta spoils her” you said in a mocking tone, still tickling your daughter.

You didn't realize what you had said, but for the older woman, it sent shivers down her spine. She didn't say anything as she watched you play with your baby, but the words stuck in her heart. Mamá Julieta…it sounded good.

________________________________

"Y/N, I'm here" Pepa called you

"In the kitchen!" you yelled

“Do you still want me to babysit Eliza?” she asked you, walking towards the kitchen.

However, the redhead stopped at the door when she found you sitting on the floor in one of the corners of the kitchen while her older sister was sitting in the opposite corner and Eliza was on her lap. You looked at her and beckoned her inside.

“There was a change of plans, look!!” you said excited

Pepa came over to you and gasped when you pulled her hand so that she sat next to you. She was going to ask you what was going on when Eli laughed and started to wobble towards you two. A rainbow graced the room as the redhead opened her arms to let the baby throw herself into them.

"Oh my god" she looked at you "she's already a big girl!"

"She is!!" you laughed excited "Now go to that corner so she can walk more"

Pepa nodded, letting go of Eliza and sending her towards Julieta, who was already waiting for her with open arms. The redhead immediately moved to where you told her to. There was no way she was going to miss this!!

______________________________

"I swear that if her first word is also you, I'm going to kill you, Julieta"

Alma frowned and walked into the kitchen, surprised to find you and her three children surrounding a very confused but giggling Eliza, who was sitting at the kitchen table, playing with Julieta's fingers.

"What's going on?" she asked

"Alma! Tell your daughter to stop stealing mine!" you said dramatically

"It's not my fault that she loves me more" the brunette laughed

The matriarch looked at her younger children with a raised eyebrow. Pepa was totally infatuated with the girl, making faces at her to make her laugh, so Bruno was the one who had to explain the situation.

“Eli started walking a few hours ago and went straight to Julieta. We made her walk from one corner to the other, but she got tired so we took a break. But then she started to babble, almost saying mom” he explained

“But then your oldest daughter decided she wants to take this away from me too and now it seems that Eli wants to say her name because the sounds she’s making sound more like a J” you said

Alma looked at you amused as you stuck out your tongue at her daughter, who only rolled her eyes affectionately.

"I'm not taking anything from you, she just loves me more" she said again

“Which is not fair because I carried her for 9 months” you reminded her “So her first word has to be mamá”

"Mmm"

You all looked at the baby with wide eyes and even Alma came quickly over. She hadn't really been around for her grandchildren's first words (other than Isabela's), so it was an emotional moment for her.

"Mmm"

"Yes, come on, you can" you smiled "Ma-ma"

“mmmm”

“She is doing it!” Pepa screeched and the room was filled with three rainbows at once

“Mamá, Eli, you can do it. Mamá"

“Mmmmmmm”

“Almost there” Bruno encouraged.

"mmmaamma"

"SHE SAID IT!" you shrieked with excitement, hugging the first thing you had at hand, which, of course, was Julieta. You pressed the woman tightly against you, making her laugh a little while Pepa clapped her hands. Alma and Bruno just looked at each other and smiled lovingly at the chaos in the kitchen.

“Mamma” Eliza laughed “Mamma, mamma, mamma!!”

"Oh, when did you grow so much?" you said, letting go of Julieta to kiss your daughter on the cheek

"Mamma!" Eli clapped

“She is so cute” Pepa said

“Thanks, it was hard for me to make her” you joked

The other adults laughed a bit. It hurt a little to know that your brother wasn't here to witness this, to see his niece grow up. But you had faith that he would wake up soon and then you would catch him up on everything he was missing.

"Mamma!"

You blinked at your daughter, however, your smile slowly faded as you realized that she wasn't looking at you, but at the woman behind you.

"No" you said "it's not true"

“Mamma, mamma!!” Eliza laughed, pointing at Julieta, whose cheeks were dyed red.

"Seriously?!" you shouted dramatically "Harta me tienes, Julieta!!"

The brunette jumped a bit before noticing the small smile you had. Oh she was going to kill you for scaring her like that!! She laughed and told you again that you should accept that she was just Eli's favorite, but the truth was that she was nervous. She didn't know if she was worthy of being called that by your daughter.

_______________________________

You smiled as Julieta put your sleeping daughter in the middle of the bed. For the first time in several days, you get to sleep with her and the truth was that it couldn't have been on a better night, because your almost kiss was still quite fresh in your mind, even if you pretended not for fear of making the other woman uncomfortable. There was no point dwelling on something that wasn't, right?

"I'm still upset with you" you said, blowing out the candle after the brunette finished settling and climbing into bed with her and your daughter.

"It's not my fault-"

“That Eli loves you more” you interrupted her “expecting that it is. You can't just go through life being so beautiful and cute and not expect people to fall in love with you."

The brunette gasped silently and you thanked the darkness that hid your blush. You had not thought about it. The words had simply escaped you! Fortunately, she just laughed, lightening the mood.

She took your hand over Eliza, being careful not to wake her. You wasted no time intertwining your fingers with hers and marveled at this woman's ability to restore a sense of security. You could screw up every two seconds and she would always be there to return you to the safe haven she had become for you.

In the magic of the night, you allowed yourself to think of her as something else. Eli seemed to have come to the same conclusion today. Your daughter had been a little behind in terms of talking and walking, but it seemed that it had just been another of the tricks of the universe to reaffirm what had been revealed to you a few nights ago: that Julieta Madrigal was the love of your life.

And your daughter decided that she was the right person to take the place that Daniel never wanted to occupy in her life: another loving and warm parental figure, always there for her. But how do you tell your best friend that you fell in love with her?

I don't have your mouth

I don't have your desire

And as much as I try

I don't understand anything anymore.

Of this crazy, crazy, crazy life

with its crazy reality

_______________________________

Julieta tag: @emril-osvigne @smolgayhooman @arination99 @kitthedino @cryptocry

#reader insert #x reader #imagine #julieta madrigal #julieta my beloved #julieta x reader #julieta madrigal x reader #julieta madrigal preference #por amor al arte #paaa #encanto #encanto preferences #encanto imagines #encanto x reader

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skztea · 2 years

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Imagine: Hyunjin’s reactions towards you having relapse in depression and feeling inferior (requested by lovely Eliza for Valentines!)

note: some suggestive content (like depression, self-harming, insecurities)

✧ “I already said i don’t need! Don’t you understand it?!” Losing your composure, you lashed on your boyfriend, Hyunjin when he was just asking if you needed help for your studies. You were taken aback by your reaction too, covering your mouth as you looked at the latter with hurt and shock written in his eyes.

✧ He was utterly shocked. It has been long since he sees you losing your temper because you have always been trying your best to keep a calm or warm image as you walk out of your past. Knowing that to become who you are now isn’t easy as he has heard all about your past — that you suffered depression due to your family and as they always belittle you on whatever things you do, as well as the prolong pressure you experience from young. You were also not confident of yourself because you felt like you don’t look as good as compared to others. With that, he also knows that all the cool facade you have is to mask your fragile heart, so he always ensures that he promptly stay by your side when you faced difficulties or seeing you acting not like yourself.

[Flashback]

✧ “Hyun, do you know how painful it is? It feels like it’s tearing apart, but it didn’t, do you know how hard it is to fall asleep? Overthinking in countless nights about how inferior i feel just devouring my soul every minute.” This sentence is imprinted in his mind because he can never forget that night when you ran over to his house, ignoring how heavy the rain was pouring but just wanting to be beside him. You were drenching from head to toe, collapsing in his arms with swollen eyes the moment he opened the door.

✧ when he started chasing you, you didn't want to entertain him not because you didn't like him, but you felt that you don't deserve him. "I'm just a wallflower, why would he even like me?" that is a common sentence that always appears in your head when you heard your friends telling you about how he always throw affectionate gaze at you from time to time in class. You always brushed them off, because you felt like it was just impossible and pure nonsense -> 3 mins passion? No thanks.

✧ he didn’t give up though. Despite being the Mr Prince (as called by the other schoolmates), he was extremely loyal to his choice, which is you. He proved that it wasn’t just a moment of desire or he received a stupid dare from others, he just wanted you thats all. No matter how many times you pushed him away, he still had 101 ways to get your attention. Until a day when you were sick of his pestering, you asked “Hwang Hyunjin, what is so good about me? No face, no figure, no height, nothing! Can you find someone else who is at least a decent flower unlike a wallflower like me?”

✧ Thankfully both of you were in a private room, you didn’t throw his face off infront of the others. He looked at you stunned, speechless by whatever you told him. “Y/n, what-what do you mean by you are nothing?! You are smart, kind, talented, beautiful, like everything. Why do you say that about yourself?” He answered you softly, staring into your exhausted eyes.

✧ he saw all that in you. You were preparing thousand of reasons to rebutt him but you ended up swallowing all of them back down your throat. He was right, why would you belittle yourself? You did well in your studies, you played many different musical instruments, you’ve gotten the bursaries, where are you lacking in? You also don’t look that bad at all… Or was it because you parents said that “you are never enough”?

✧ “hey, you are beautiful the way you are, so don’t degrade yourself okay?” he walked over to the lifeless body of yours, tracing his hands over your arms and placed on your shoulders, staring at you with adore. That was when you finally broke your defence wall infront of him and let him in to your vulnerable life.

✧ “I have depression, can you accept that?” you asked him randomly in the middle of the street in one of the nights both of you hanged out. Both of you were already close to crossing the fine line from close friends to lovers, but you still decided to let him know about your condition before dating. Accepting someone who has depression isn’t easy — the person may breakdown anytime, the person may self harm anytime, the person may just be gone in anytime etc where all the uncertainties come in. All the stigmas that lingered in this century made you lost confidence in the world.

✧ he paused in his tracks for awhile before turning to look at you. You were prepared for him to say “im sorry, then i don’t think we suit” but he ended up walking back and embrace you. “Im sorry to hear that y/n, i may not be able to fully understand what you have been through, but from today onwards, i will try my best to be by your side as fast as i can so you can lean on my shoulders. You have me now, so tell me all your worries.”

✧ it was the warmest words you have heard for the rest of your life. In your whole 19 years of living, all you knew was to study hard, harder, hardest to satisfy your parent’s expectations. They were not even aware that you had depression, not to mention about you seeking a psychiatrist. He was the second person that knew about it after you told your best friend, and you were glad that he empathised with you and promise to stay with you.

✧ people always say that “promises are meant to be broken” but this isn’t the case with Hyunjin. He accompanied you to the psychiatrist every week, picking up your calls or answering your texts at random timings like 3am when you had insomnia, rushing over to your side when you were breaking down etc. You felt really bad because he wasn’t able to date someone ‘normal’ but have to run back and forth to take care of your broken soul.

✧ “aren’t you tired?” you asked him in another night when both of you were sitting by the river. “tired of?” “me” you stared at the river blankly, taking no colours into your eyes as you felt your life has been black and white. “no! of course not, i want to take care of you, im more than happy to do so, im not tired hun” he would lightly squeeze your hand, giving you the most assurance he could. “trust me okay? you will recover, you definitely will.”

[now]

✧ throughout the 2 years with him, your depression started to get better because now you have another shoulder to lean on. He always brings light to your life, letting you see another perspective of the world that makes you feel more hopeful. Things were going well until recently when you are preparing for your finals, you parents started to add on pressure.

✧ “y/n, im expecting a 100 for geography” “y/n, im expecting a 90 for science” “y/n, im expecting a 95 for mathematics” every single day. Every single day you come home to hear all this naggings instead of encouragements like “y/n, i know you have been doing your best, just maintain them” “y/n, you can do it, trust yourself” etc. Nothing, nothing like this from them. Worse, they would even say things like “y/n, can you even do it?” “y/n, why are your prelim results getting from bad to worse?” “you are making us so disappointing” “i wish you are not my child” “you are ugly”.

✧ wow, those were so helpful. Your depression was subsiding but now it’s starting to relapse due to your parents. It’s always them. Yes, you are thankful for them giving you a life, but definitely not for your whole childhood till now. “i’ll move over to (best friend’s) house for the time being to study” you lied to your parents when in fact, you are moving to hyunjin’s house because you had enough of their bullshits.

✧ moving out was supposed to make you feel better but insecurities start to creep in again. Your parent’s words are like toxins, intoxicating your brain and haunting you whenever you open your book to study. All the belittling words coming from them often make you lose focus from your textbooks, ended up flipping them close and comb your hair harshly.

✧ and you entirely lost temper today. You immediately regret for blurting out those hurtful words, because you are clear that Hyunjin just wanted to guide you for your weaker subject but you shoved his kind intention off with your harsh comment. You swear that you didn’t mean it but you were just that frustrated because your catastrophic mindset cling onto your brain.

✧ guilt came over like a wrecking ball as you were flustered. “shit, he must be hurt!” “shit, i was too harsh just now” “why am i so useless?” “why am i so stupid?” “why am i acting like a moron?” self blaming returned to your mind after a long time as your lips quivered. You wanted to apologise but no words came out of your mouth as you feel your heart starts to throb while feeling suffocated.

✧ “im-im sorry, im so sorry,” the only few words that can be delivered as you left the seat and exited the house. The whole ambience feels like strangling you and your migraine kicks in. The only way that you can regain your life is to step out and get some air. The moment you stepped out, raindrops fell on your head. “Not again,” you groaned as you rub your arms to create more warmth.

✧ walking under the rain helps you to wash some pain away, at least. You blame yourself for being rude to your boyfriend and the symptoms of your depression coming is traumatic. You recalled yourself starting to return to the worst state you were in — giving up on yourself, silent cries in the bedsheets, the temptation to hurting yourself again. The devil in your mind is fighting vigorously with the angel, and it is starting to overwhelm the good one.

✧ “hey! be careful!” before you could even react, you were subtly pulled by someone to the side as the bicycle almost knocked onto you. You finally came back to your senses as you watched the bicycle rode away, thinking what would happen if you just get knocked over. “Babe oh my god please, my heart almost fell!” You shifted your gaze onto the latter who saved you, bursting into tears as you saw him drenching together with you.

✧ “why did you come out? It’s raining!” you anxiously wiped the raindrops away from his forehead, sobbing while you asked him. “how can i not come out? you just ran out without saying a word and im worried!” your cries got louder when you heard his words, because guilt increased tremendously as you saw him running out to get you even though he was hurted by you.

✧ “why? why do you want to treat me so well hyun? like, i don’t deserve it at all! i don’t deserve you, i don’t deserve your comfort, i don’t deserve everything! You are so perfect and you should find someone better, why do you want to stick by a broken person who is all ugly, plain jane that doesn’t complement you but only burden you-“ you got cut off when he smashed his lips against yours.

✧ “i’ll take it as you didn’t say anything,” he muttered against your lips before he dive deeper into your mouth. Both standing under the rain, you were not able to differentiate if you were tasting the rainwater or his saliva, or even your tears. All you know was him, kissing you passionately to express his overflowing love with you and hoping to wash all your overthinking thoughts off your mind. Pulling you closer by the waist, he continued to explore deeper into the back of your mouth as your mind turned hazy.

✧ he succeeded. your mind has successfully conquered by him as all the flashbacks you had with him shoved all your negative thinkings away. It was a tough fight, really tough fight for him to conquer your brain because he knows it is not easy for you to overcome your depression and inferiority. Never once he felt exhausted when your condition relapsed. He was even motivated to pull you out from the blackhole. Tongues dancing and lips moving in rhythm showed how much he appreciates and loves you, and only wanting you to focus on him.

✧ Ignorant towards the judgemental faces of the passers bys, both of you stood on the paveway for a good 10 mins in the middle of the rainpour sucking each other’s mouth out. They didn’t know that that 10 mins was good enough to save someone from their pathetic life, not even about how difficult it is to keep on living.

✧ “babe, i need you to know that you are just, beautiful the way you are. Those are the scars to your beautiful, and i embrace all of them. I know what’s bugging in your mind but, please trust me and only look at me. I know it’s easier said than to be done, but im always here with you, accompanying you to take baby steps to overcome all the obstacles, have faith in me, in you, in us, okay?” he gently placed his forehead with yours, uttering under his breath as he gives you an eskimo kiss.

✧ you don’t want to continue this state anymore. It isn’t worth to dwell in the past, in the things that don’t make you happy and in the people who don’t love you. Looking at your lover standing infront of you with pain in his eyes (after seeing your tough state), you suddenly feel a surge of energy that pushes you to overcome all these that are dragging you down. Not anymore this time. You will overcome them while you are hand in hand with him.

✧ “i trust you, i will trust myself, i will trust us. Thank you Hyun, thank you,” you hugged him tightly as you teared up (this time due to joy). The thank you isn’t just a simple one — where he ran out to chase after you just now. The thank you is for the beginning where he persisted in courting you, till he break through your defence wall, till he understands more about you, till he pulls you along with him to find the light out of the tunnel, till his perseverance for this relationship. If not for him, you wouldn’t be who you are now.

✧ “let’s go home, it’s late,” he grab your hand and put them into his pocket, bringing you back to his house that is filled with warmth, unlike your parent’s one. With him, you found the motivation to cure your depression, you found the reason to be not inferior, and lastly, you found the meaning of life.

-> very thankful for my second request given by Eliza for this Valentines Day! Sorry if it is abit long, but i hope you enjoyed it :) let me know if its good or can be better! If not, happy Valentines Day~

-> Tag: @shit-idek-meself-at-this-point (bub is this one❣️)

m.list II | a.bout

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lovee-infected · 4 years

Note

Hello! ♥ Can I request headcanons or oneshot (whichever is easier) about how the twst boys react when they discover that MC is a girl, because they thought MC was a pretty boy, someone like Epel, when an unexpected rain happens during flying class and they can see the silhouette of the breasts or the vibrantly colored bra under the wet T-shirt 👀

At some point they all go : “My expectations for you were low , but holy f ”

Riddle Rosehearts

Class 2 E had to take Riddle who crashed the ground from the 20 meter height to the nurse office afterwards

His pe grades were already horrifying and with those two tips of something he saw under your wet clothes , it isn't really strange to end up in bed

Thankfully he doesn't end up with a broken leg , but that seemed way better than having this broken sanity now : (y/n) is a girl...?

He gets red but not of any anger , instead embarrassment . He has been treating you too casually good lord , he is never the same with girls

Riddle doesn't talk to you for a few days because he now realizes how lame your relationship may seem ; many things he should have done , many things he shouldn't have done

Would things still be the same ? Well it has to be he , thought . After all you didn't ever hide anything or lie about your gender , it was his misunderstanding

Well now , maybe he wants to treat you a bit... softer ?

Trey Clover

He isn't terrified by the gender , he is terrified by the way he saw it : Wet clothes , squishy big things under your shirt with a visible color...

He sweats at even saying it by word he wasn't ; he wasn't expecting that at all

He tries to hide his blush but that doesn't really work ; everyone knows that Trey isn't one to blush easily

He decides that it's better to skip the class now ( His eyes need some fresh air) . Just a few hours away , and he seems to be already used to it

He has to admit that it's somehow creepy to see the guy who you always liked having around is actually a girl , but he decides to pretend that he already knew it

Male or female , you're the same to him . The lovely and adorable (y/n) you always were

But still , this got him thinking...does he need to treat you like a girl sometimes ? Stuff that just girls do , say or like ?

Cater Diamond

He... notices the big deal when he's taking a rainy day selfie with you . He is making sure that you both look good but suddenly his eyes lay at the sight of your chest through his phone...

His eyes grow wider and he doesn't notice when he presses the button : The sound of his phone's flash almost made him drop it

You ask if he's alright but Cater just gives you a nervous laugh and say that the phone just slipped for a second . He neither shows you the pic you just took nor agrees on taking a second one when you ask him to

He leaves in pretext of picking his umbrella up but instead , runs to a corner where you couldn't see him : He brings that selfie from his gallery and zooms on your chest . He wants to make sure of what he just saw

Which one's worse ? The neon pink bra under your T-shirt or the... clearly visible tip of your nipple under it ? Damn you are laying your breasts on his hand in the pic...

He quickly saves it though his private albums . On the second thought , he sends all pictures he had from you to that folder as well

Well , he'll get used to it right? Perhaps he can now flirt more comfortably with you knowing that you're actually a girl . The only important thing for him is too make sure that no one ever finds out about photos he has on that private folder ; the one he keeps specifically for you

Deuce Spade

"E-eh??" Remember what happened with Eliza ? This is the second version of it . Even during his rage days ( Wild yellow hair and random fights with others) he lacked the ability to even say hi to a girl . And here he is now spending all those days together without knowing that you were a girl !??

His whole personality almost cracks for a second . All those dirty stuff other first years had shared about girls flashes before his eyes . He wasn't damn prepared -

He couldn't be any more thankful that you couldn't see the horrifying scenes and sounds through his mind at the moment- He just leaves before you could even see him blush

Ace doesn't stop teasing him though , late at the night inside Heartslabyul's , Ace is walking on his nerves asking him to tell what's wrong . Ace isn't the only curious one ; soon all his classmates too keep asking Deuce to say what is bothering him

Deuce has decided to keep his mouth shut until he comes over this fact on his own , and he's strong on it . There's no way that he'd let anyone recognize his anxiety with women

He knows his friends better than this and doesn't want to be dared to steal your underwear or poke your breasts in another round of truth or dare

Let's just...hope that things will soon get better for him or , perhaps you can be his chance to overcome his lack of skills with women ?

Ace Trappola

"Holy sh-" He then gets fired from the pe class for his impolite usage of words- ( School rules , right ?) Not that he cares though

Comparing to Deuce , he's a lot better and more experienced especially because he has been in a relationship before... which is both good and bad

The last time he got this close to any girls before you was with his ex-girlfriend ; and to be honest even that relationship didn't brought them as close as you two are now . The thought of going through similar things with a new one even though he no longer thinks about his ex ... that kinda hurts

Maybe he would've died to tell Deuce what he found out if old memories didn't haunt him . He isn't an awkward realizing your gender like Deuce is , but he can tell that it's kinda hard for him to deal with it . Mostly because of how close and dear you are to him now...

He finally realizes that he doesn't deserve carrying the shame and anxiety on his own and tells Deuce ; well at least calming Deuce down will make him pay least attention to his own problems

Leona Kingscholar

He almost chokes- He was standing in the corner without a single drop of water on his hair while you got too wet as if you took a shower with your clothes on

He is teasing you likr always again until he realizes a second color under your white clothes ... no . please don't be

He prefers to imagine that you're a guy having the kink of wearing feminine underwear . He isn't ready to accept that you're a girl and he still denies it after seeing the vibrantly visible bra with his own two eyes

God...he teased you , kicked you , laughted you off and literally stepped on you ; that's what he usually likes to treat others so..? But not a lady , never . He is raised better this to end up neglecting a lady's great level and worth

Now considering how he's been teasing you so far , what did you think of him..? Do you consider him an asshole who has no respect for women due to how he treated you ??

He is really stressed out and doesn't know what to do , he just takes off his own jacket and quickly comes to you , wrapping it around your wet body and hair and taking you to a warmer place . He keeps asking if you're alright ? Didn't you catch a cold ? Do you need a doctor ?

Leona doesn't know if your fascinated gaze means a yes or no , and it isn't going to help

He isn't going to explain himself right now , maybe give it some time ?

The only reason he treated you this casually was because he was comfortable with you and it was all...a way of showing admiration ?

Maybe it gets better when he explains himself

Ruggie Bucchi

His mouth drops open when he realizes the bra as you two were drying yourselves after the rain . (y/n) is a she...!?

He doubts , he would doubt it again if he even takes a closer look . Suddenly his body feels warmer and his cheeks get red . No way...

Ruggie barely talked to any girls other than his own family and even skipped conversations when girls were brought up , he isn't mentally prepared for it !

But now he is changing with you at the same room ?? Wait wait wait- He might act like a brat but he isn't a jerk

He leaves because he's sure that you need some privacy ; all though he still refuses to believe that you're a girl...

You never ever mentioned your gender in front of him and he never asked , but did anyone else know it except him ? He just wouldn't dare to ask

Well girl or not , he doesn't stop teasing you in general ; but also learns not to go too far since it's still hard for you to be wrapped in an all boy school...you need more support

Jack Howl

He doesn't mind going blind after seeing those nipples under your wet T-shirt . He first thought that they were a bit too big for a boy but...he soon realized that they weren't even for a boy-

He had to take a small look between your legs because he couldn't resist- he had to make sure . And NO ! He didn't see what he wished to see there

He still can't make sure ?? Those things usually proved someone being a girl but still , there is no way to make sure unless he asks you ; but how can he ? No way , he'll just melt down

He doesn't mention anything in front of you but tries indirectly bringing the issue of your gender up with Ace and Deuce : Didn't (y/n) tell you two about her schedule today?

" Her...?"

Well great , now Ace and Deuce have joined him on the ‘terrified of your gender’ army . The only way to make sure is either asking you or... stealing something that could prove it . Someone has to get inside your room but which one of them now...?

Azul Ashengrotto

He is vibing with the pleasant rain as it made today's pe sessions a bit better for him . He asks you to join him

He just takes his glasses off for a second to dry them and- BANG

The color of your bra was too visible that he could even see it without his glasses on

He immediately puts them on and takes a better look , well great now he can clearly see your breasts closely . How bad he wished that he went blind for a second...

You don't get why Azul seems to be studying your chest so you ask if something's wrong?

Azul is pulled out of his thoughts and embarrassment takes him over because you realized what he was staring at : Pathetic

Azul excuses himself telling you that he has to take his pills before he returns to his Octopus form and disappears

How dumb he could be not to realize it till now... Beside that - Why the hell didn't those two tall sticks ( a.k.a Floyd and Jade) realize it either !?

God God God...he keeps swallowing his eyes at the thought...

How can he get over the fact that he was being with a girl all this time...?

Floyd Leech

Well of course he is shocked , Shrimpy was supposed to be a guy but he actually is a little girl ? Meh , what a disappointment

Well , body is body to him so he isn't really shocked or freaked out to see , well , those things under your shirt

He might not be that fascinated , but still has doubts . While you two are taking a walk back to Ramshackle dorm , he just doesn't stop staring at your chest and doesn't mind you noticing him either

To be honest , he now seems to be liking it . You were just a kiddo he always enjoyed teasing but now that you're a girl...? How different would things be ? And would the way he treated you make you possibly... have those girlish feelings for him ? Sounds fun

While saying goodbye at your door he stops for a second to say something . You don't quite get what he asked but he knows better himself : " Random question but- are those seriously soft to squeeze ?"

Jade Leech

Just as Floyd , he doesn't mind you being a girl . He actually appreciates you even more now. Night Raven College isn't a place for weak people and still , to think that a small human girl like you could last this long here... Farewell , human beings can be really interesting he can tell

He gently offers you his coat and escorts you to a warmer place , telling you to change into something dry before you catch a cold

Well the first day is nothing different or weird , but the upcoming days prove how creepy he can be...

He doesn't mind popping up out of nowhere to tell you to choose underwears with a less noticable color at school and it just makes you melt ; not just because it's embarrassing to be told so but also because it proved that Jade is watching you

He does do some research on surface females to get to know the differences between what he expected you to be and what you really are better ; not that he has a complaint though

Jamil Viper

He exactly knows what he just saw there and - He can't help but to feel ashamed . For once he leaves without taking Kalim with him , he just forgot him a the moment

He now feels... angry . You never ever shared your gender but it's not like he ever expected you to be a girl . He feels lied to ; you didn't ever tell the truth but didn't lie either ; that bugs him even more because he doesn't know if he's mad at you or not

Well he now knows when someone you thought you know ends up being something totally different ; like the way Kalim saw who he really is...well that's really annoying to think of

Jamil ignores you for a few days until you come to ask why he's avoiding you . He insists that it's nothing all though it's obvious that it is-

Alright , a few days until he cools down . He wants to keep the distance till then

Knowing your gender often makes him feel ashamed of how casually he's been treating you . Well a lot of things are different when it's an all boy school , right ?

He doesn't know if he should act cooler with you from now or pretend that he never saw anything , he needs time to make up his mind

Kalim al Asim

He was giving you a towel to dry yourself when he recognized your clothes . He was actually thinking of bringing you some dry ones when he saw what he wished he didn't saw- Aaah why would you wear such a recognizable bra : " (y/n)..??"

He quickly pulls back and apologizes ; not that you know what he is apologizing for

He returns to Jamil and tells him to leave , he just can't face you right now

There at Scarabia , Kalim tells Jamil everything since he really needs to share some feelings . He asks Jamil if he knew about this and he certainly didn't

Kalim now keeps wondering... how hard might it be for you ? A girl sorrounded by all guys out there , do you feel safe ?

He now has decided to look after you more than he already did , he just doesn't want you feeling any sad or lonely because of your current situation

He always hated loneliness and that's why he needed Jamil around , now it's your turn to have Kalim around so you'll never be alone

Vil Schoenheit

Vil is well familiar with all beauty materials - including feminine underwear - so he quickly realizes both the unusual size of your chest and the vibrantly colored bra under your clothes . He wishes he hadn't

Bearing the fact that he was having a girl beside him all this time is already hard enough , but what makes it worse is what a terrible female he thinks you are now

You seriously do need a start over ! You are no girl if you're this ignorant toward your appearance even as it makes you look like a guy

He spends all night thinking of what he now should do with you . He does know how to manage guys but girls ? That won't be called something he had much experience on

He isn't feeling as comfortable as before with you yet , he decides to give you some lessons to at least pull you out of your non feminine self

He doesn't mind telling you that you have to do a lot more for yourself as you are a girl ; and he says it as if he knew it all this time

He isn't going to turn you into a princess , it's safer for you to remain something between male and female as you are stuck between all these untrustworthy guys , but it doesn't hold him back from giving you some chance to see your female self. He brings you wigs and puts on your makeup , telling you that you sometimes need to show up like this

He still needs some time to feel as comfortable as he used to with you , but spending time with you trying to have a start over is actually helping him to like you even more than he used to

Rook Hunt

Well congrats , for so long no one had ever succeeded to shock Rook like you did ! That's an improvement . He always makes sure not miss a single detail about those he has his eyes on ; yet he failed to even recognize your gender correctly until now

A bit of fascination won't hurt , right ? After all having a boy like Epel beside him makes it really confusing to specify male and female sometimes

To be honest , he now finds you pretty fragile and helpless : Bunny between the beasts

If a hunter like him didn't know it so far , then probably no one else knew it either . So that's his little secret now

This place's a considerably dangerous zone for a lady to step on , and Rook isn't planning on exposing you like this . He isn't a monster after all...

But having Rook of all people knowing your secret is already enough of torture , isn't it ?

Epel Felmier

I-I thought we were the same...???

This can't be true , this shouldn't be ! Please don't be , please , please , please

Epel looked up to you bot only as a reliable and strong friend but also as someone who goes through similar appearance problems as Epel himself did

You made him feel better that he wasn't the only one having problems with looking too similar to girls ; seems like he was wrong

Epel wasn't ever comfortable with getting close to girls , along becoming a friend of them . He even kept you closer than his other friends since the too of you could relate a lot he thought ; now what should he do ?

He is too embarrassed to even look into your eyes now , he even skips classes you two share and in summary , does anything to avoid you for a while

That is said that girls and boys can never be just friends and... that's frustrating

Now , could the two of you ever be as close as you used to be again?

Idia Shroud

Which is worse , realizing that he's been spending all his time with a girl over the past few months or seeing her wet breasts during the class ?Man , that looked just like those anime hentais one would find online...

Beside that , having your gender exposed makes him feel a bit unsafe about his relationship with you ; if even a simple thing such as gender could be different from what he was expecting you , then what greater differences would your reality have from the (y/n) you were into his eyes ?

Idia hardly ever gets to fully trust anyone and now he isn't sure if he could trust you anymore . Well yes gender might be no big deal compared to the fearful thoughts he is having at mind ; but it's enough to send him into his safe zone and stay away from you

His face turns red and hot whenever he thinks of that scene even when he's all alone in his bedroom , God he wasn't prepared-

Ortho finally forces him to tell what's bothering him and when he confesses , Ortho gets really excited . He keeps telling Idia that as a friend , he has to stay by your side specially because you may feel lonely being a girl all on your own . He reminds Idia of the fact that this is what friends do

He now feels sorry for abandoning you like a coward , but he has to admit that it's a bit hard for him to return the old friendship you two had . Well maybe just texting you instead of face to face interaction would be better ?

Malleus Draconia

uh..? A girl...? Child of man caught in an unknown world and... That's a female . You keep fascinating him over and over ever since he met you , it's just another surprise he can tell

He kinda loses all his focus during the pe class after he accidentally notices the unusual knobs popping under your T-shirt ; are you wearing something wrapped around your...chest ?

He first thinks that it may just be somewhat of a brand new clothing trend to wear feminine-like stuff ; but remembering how you never clearly stated your gender , he now understands how wrong he was

He thought that he had you under his watch pretty well , but he even failed to realize your gender correctly ; perhaps he should learn to do it better

Malleus isn't about to treat you any differently just because you ended up being a girl , all though he has to agree that it was a bit shocking . But in general , nothing about your relationship really seems to be gender related

You don't know his name and he didn't know your gender until now ; is this how karma works ? Well that'd be a bit unfair , gender was rather worthless compared to the fear his real identity might bring you

The only thing that may change now is him being more protective over you ; not that he underestimates you but rather because there's no way for you to be totally comfortable in a school filled with rebellious guys . He wants to make sure that his currently favorite human being won't get in much trouble because of that...

Lilia Vanrouge

Eh ? Through out his hundred-year life this would be the most shameful thing he got to face . You might think that he found it to be a disgrace to his long lasting life which is filled with honor and pride ; but in that case you may like to get to know the old man better

He doesn't like being thought of as a pervert ; but it doesn't mean that he didn't enjoy himself either. Naked figures or seductive girls aren't something he gets overly excited about , same goes for you . Well accidents like this can happen everyday , right ? But this one had something rather fun along with it :

From the direct yet neutral gaze he gave your chest , you immediately realized what he was looking at and you pulled back . Lilia didn't expect you to notice it so quickly , but the embarrassed face you gave him afterwards , that was priceless

He giggles softly at the thought , a shy and cute little girl . He isn't really a fan of boys that are overly cute or childish , but when it comes to little girls , that's another story

You had already caught his eyes by being the only human being caught in this school on your own . Well , to see how feeble and shy you sometimes could be , that reminded him of Silver

Now now , what should he do ? Playing the role of a small girl's parents or something ? Doesn't sound that bad

Sebek Zigvolt

Gasp

He's about to lose his mind - he feels like he has saw you totally naked or lurked into your privacy , he feels awful

He runs to another corner to cool down from what he saw - Damn- That scene doesn't get away from his eyes for a second

Well then , take deep breathes , it's cool , it's fine - it's gonna be fine

Sebek wouldn't dare talking to you for sometime after that . His cheeks get warmer whenever he sees you around , making him change his direction to avoid you

When you finally get him to talk to you , he breaks off- He starts apologizing . He swears not to ever peek on your body again and that he won't say a word from what he saw

You probably don't know what he is talking about , but you say okay to calm him down

Sebek isn't used to having girls around but now that he does , he should be really careful . He doesn't want you to think of him as a antisocial chick when it comes to women and he tries his best to be a gentleman in front of you . Man...he really does take it seriously

Silver

A... girl?... Silver's first reaction would be nothing different from blushing and turning back ; what else would you expect him to do ?

He's a simple guy , he doesn't overreact but doesn't feel totally comfortable either

He didn't ever even think of the possibility of you being a girl , he just isn't used to having anyone else than boys in NRC around . You did always look too cute for a guy but still , he didn't see this coming...

(y/n) is a girl...A girl , this thought gets looped inside his brain . He can't stop freaking out over it . It feels like he's been building a sand castle on water all this time and now he's watching it sink . His whole expectations of you seems to be ruined

It gets even worse when the figure of you dressed in a long beautiful dress , holding a brilliant crown of your flowers on your long silky hair haunts him on his dreams - Why on earth do you have to be so beautiful (y/n)..!?

Silver refuses to accept , but he's pretty soft when it comes to girls . He's pretty shy but to have a girl he has been liking for sometime close...his inner self is getting teased - in a pleasant way

He doesn't show up in front of you for a while , but he just can't get the thought of you out of his mind . From reality to dreams , seems like you're always in front of him . As if you really walked with him once upon a dream

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missameliep · 2 years

Text

SECOND CHANCES - CHAPTER TWENTY TWO: A BEAUTIFUL NIGHT

Book: Desire and Decorum – Modern AU

Rating: G

Word count: ~7K (huge, i know)

Summary: The weekend at Edgewater reserves many surprises to Elizabeth and her friends, and might turn out to be just what some of them need to speak up about their feelings...

Characters: Elizabeth Foredale (OC); Briar Daly; Edmund Marlcaster, Annabelle Parsons; Prince Hamid; Luke Harper; Dominique Foredale; Vincent Foredale; Mr. Sinclaire.

Notes:

* All characters belong to Pixelberry, except OC.

* I want to thank @princess-geek for being my beta in this chapter and her support to my writing. You're a treasure, my friend! 💝

* This is my awfully late submission to @choicesjanuarychallenge2022: Day 12. stairs

Smiling, Elizabeth sings along in the chorus of another pop song from the playlist she created with Briar and Annabelle, looking out of the window, the countryside slips by. Villages with ancient stone houses come into sight for a moment, disappearing in the next. The further they went North, the less traffic ahead. London has given space to greened hills that were now covered by the blanket of darkness. Though, even before the nightfall, the dark and heavy clouds hanging above barely let any sunlight through.

The weather forecast predicts rain for the weekend; however, this predicament did not reduce Elizabeth’s enthusiasm to see Edgewater, nor her friends’, who are looking forward to spending fun days together.

The car swivels to the left, taking a secondary road. Behind the wheel, Edmund Marlcaster relaxes. The closest red lights flicker many meters away and disappear after the curve. Adjusting the rear-view mirror, he takes a good look at Briar, who was doing a little dance.

“I love that song!” Briar chanted from the backseat.

When another pop song started playing on the radio, she and Elizabeth singalong, ignoring Edmund’s visible annoyance after he pleads to play something else.

“No,” they both reply in chorus, and laugh. However, despite the failed attempt to change the playlist, he smiles softly when his gaze meets Briar’s.

“How long till we get to Edgewater?” Briar asked, trying to keep his attention a moment longer.

“We’re halfway now.”

Elizabeth takes the mobile from her bag and checks the messages.

“Hamid says they are on their way,” Elizabeth announced, and her attention was absorbed by the mobile while she typed the response; meanwhile, Edmund’s eyes found Briar's again on the rear-view mirror. She offered him one of her most flirtatious smiles and a wink, causing him to flush bright red.

“So… Edmund, is your fiancée joining us?”

Edmund coughed a few times, and Elizabeth cast a side glance at him. Clearing his throat, he managed to find his voice.

“No, Theresa is staying at London during the break.”

Averting her eyes, Briar hummed to herself, and a smile curled her lips.

“Doesn’t she mind you going to Edgewater without her?”

“She has her own plans with –” Edmund paused, searching for the appropriate word to not speak ill about the vipers that are Felicity Holloway and Donna Bowman. “Friends. She’ll spend most of her time occupied helping Felicity with her party. By the way, Theresa mentioned your name was on the list, Eliza… Are you going to the party?”

“Absolutely not! I already RSVP’d my ‘no’.”

“Oh,” he sighed, without looking away from the road, “I was hoping you'd keep me company…”

“Sorry. I really need my Felicity free time.”

“I envy you!” he muttered.

“There will be plenty of people to keep you company… Even Hamid is going.”

“You’re letting him?” Briar howled her question from the backseat, startling the other two.

Turning around on her seat to face her, Elizabeth asked, “What do you mean I’m letting him? Briar, he’s a grown man who can go wherever he likes...”

Her words were received with a dramatic eye roll and a disapproving slowly shake of head.

“Unbelievable!”

“Hamid is thrilled to wear his zombie costume... and I’ll help with the makeup.”

“Have you ever heard about that party and what goes on there, Lizzy? There will be a throng of gorgeous girls on the pull and a geezer man like Hamid all by himself...” Briar trailed off, casting a knowing look at her friend. “You know what can happen, right?”

“Well... it’s up to him.”

“Won’t you mind if he meets someone?” Briar insisted, “What if he starts dating? What if he falls in love?”

Elizabeth swallowed the lump on her throat and looked outside. “What if he already did?”

“Oh, my God! Are you talking about yourself? Did he say he love you?”

“What? No; why would he?”

“Must I state the obvious?”

“We’re friends.”

“You’re more than that! You’re more like a real couple than some couples I know.” Briar scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Briar, please,” – Elizabeth turned around again, facing the passenger seat’s window – “I don’t feel like having that conversation again…”

“But, Lizzy, only the truth will set you free!” The seat belt snapped, pulling Briar back when she tried to lunge forward and approach Elizabeth. “You must acknowledge your feelings and speak up! You love him!”

Elizabeth’s head snapped back to face the other. The word love was definitely a stretch, but Briar has no parsimony in using that verb, especially when referring to her relationship with Hamid. Whenever she does, Elizabeth scowls in the most unladylike way imaginable. She does not love Hamid. How could she? They barely know each other. That’s not how this love thing works. Hamid is someone dear to her, someone she cares about and wants to have close. But love? No, she is not in love, but it’s futile to argue with someone who does not listen to reason.

“I beg you stop this nonsense once Hamid gets there,” Elizabeth said softly with pleading eyes, “I don’t want things getting awkward... He told me he likes someone and wanted –”

“What?” Briar cried, eyes open wide and eyebrows shooting up and disappearing underneath the black bangs; the car swivelled slightly with Edmund’s reaction to the high-pitched noise, and Briar apologised.

Even Edmund, who abstained himself from joining the conversation this far, looked gobsmacked. “He actually told you that, Eliza?”

“Yeah. Last time we met… He asked me advice on the matter… Why would he do that unless we are only friends?”

“That’s impossible!” Briar exclaimed, “What were his words exactly?”

Burying herself further into the seat, she rested her hands on her lap, and reminisced for a moment. “Suffice to say he asked me advice on how to talk to this woman, because he gets speechless around her.”

“Speechless? Hamid?” Briar snorted. “Are we talking about the same guy who never shuts up?”

Edmund cast a sideway glance at his stepsister. “This woman must be really extraordinary to leave someone as eloquent as Hamid tongue-tied.”

“Probably. And I’m not ready to hear about her. Or them. I need time to process this and whatever it means to our friendship... so please, let us all have a quiet weekend.”

“I cannot promise quiet. I cannot promise I won’t try to set you two up either. Or lock you in a room together. With only one bed and –”

“Briar!” Elizabeth squealed, and Edmund snorted with laughter.

“You are my friend, Lizzy. I will not lie to you.”

“Welcome to Edgewater,” Edmund announced when the manor comes unmistakably into sight after a curve, the façade illuminated by a soft yellow glow, and recited the same words one can read in the brochures about the estate. Elizabeth knows it is a show for Briar, however, her very own heart races at the sight.

“Quite impressive,” Briar sighs, nose a hairsbreadth to the window. “Can you imagine all the secret romances, intrigues and betrayals that have happened there over the years?”

Elizabeth and Edmund shared a knowing look. “Yes, we can.”

After crossing the gate, the car followed the path through a manicured lawn with statues illuminated by yellowish lights. Everything looks so quiet, but Elizabeth knows how deceiving that is. Similar to other manor’s this size, Edgewater has an army of employees working from dawn to dusk and beyond; and depending on who is staying at the house, gossip is served 24/7.

When they pulled over, members of the staff were already waiting. While one took their luggage, another guided the trio inside, where Lady Dominique waited to offer a proper welcome. No sign of the countess, despite the news she would be staying at the manor until the end of the following week. Maybe she was avoiding Elizabeth, and she would not complain if she did this the entire weekend.

“Where’s the wicked witch?” Briar whispered into Elizabeth’s ear, acknowledging the absence too.

Holding a chuckle, she forced a polite smile to greet her grandmother.

After the proper greetings, Lady Dominique asked about the rest of the party, and Elizabeth explained they were coming with Annabelle.

“Annabelle is such a talented young lady. Did she tell you how she used to come here often and play the piano for us?” Elizabeth nodded, and Lady Dominique smiled wistfully. “It will be delightful to have her here again.” After a pause, certainly reminiscing about her grandson Harry, the woman collected herself, and her gaze focused on the present.

“Now, you should go upstairs and get ready. Flora is waiting for you, and I asked Joanne to assist Miss Daly. I will guarantee the others are welcomed and escorted to their respective rooms.”

With a polite smile, Elizabeth thanked her grandmother. Despite her disagreements, she admires the way she manages to run things at the house so smoothly. There is usually not a situation unforeseen. The moment she learned about the plans to the weekend, she was extremely zealous and helpful; even if Elizabeth suspects it is another attempt to earn her forgiveness after the incident with Felicity, she thanks her again for everything.

Accompanying the trio out of the parlour, Lady Dominique was amused by Briar’s wonder.

“This is all so fancy! It looks like a museum. But in a good way, of course.”

Lady Dominique expressed her gratitude, without hiding the pride in being the major responsible for the current decoration and pointed at some esteemed items. After speaking to one of the employees, Lady Dominique proceeded to tell them about the accommodations, and soon Elizabeth, Edmund and Briar were on their way to the stairs.

“I thought we were all staying together in one giant room, and have a big slumber party.”

“Maybe some other time.” Elizabeth smiled.

“Don’t ever expect Lady Dominique to allow single young ladies to share accommodations with male guests, unless they are in some sort of extremely official commitment,” Edmund explained, following her dangerously close upstairs, delighting on the sweet smell of her shampoo.

“I have a feeling my mother would get along well with Lady Dominique…” Briar snorted.

“Briar, your room is in the family wing, next to mine,” Elizabeth said when they reached the second floor. “Annabelle’s too.”

The news she would have a room for herself and a bathtub in the en-suite made Briar squeal, and both Edmund and Elizabeth were amused by her reaction.

When the door from Elizabeth’s room closed, Briar mused for a second, biting on her lower lip. Lingering by the door of the assigned room, she looked over her shoulder at Edmund who was debating with himself on what to do next.

“And where’s your room, Eddie?” Briar asked and her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Mine?” he gasped, then pointed at a door across the hallway.

“Good to know.”

“It is?”

“Of course.” Briar grinned. “I need to know where to find you to hold you to your word.” His eyebrows shoot up and almost disappeared beneath the ash blond hair. When there was only confusion in his eyes, she teased, “Your promise; or have you forgotten the reason you’ve invited me to Edgewater?”

“Lady Clara’s journal! Of course. I will definitely take you to the library… and we can look at the journals together… if you wish…”

“I expect you to fill me in all the gossip about Lizzy’s great-great-grandmother.”

“Absolutely.”

“Alright then. See you later.” With those words, she waved and closed the door. The man couldn’t hide his smile.

Elizabeth picked the mobile from the vanity and checked the messages. She could hardly wait to see her friends’ reaction to the surprise. Annabelle and Hamid have been present to the historical re-enactments at Edgewater, but Briar and Luke have never seen them personally. What would they think about being part of one? Judging by the pictures in the group chat and Pictagram, at least Briar was enjoying the look. There was no text from the others, which increased her fear that Hamid could be offended.

“Your hair is done, ma’am,” said the woman standing behind Elizabeth, observing her expectantly.

“Thank you, Flora.” Elizabeth smiled at her reflection, her curly brown hair was deftly pulled up in a bun with braids at the top of the head. “It’s perfect,” she said softly at the woman.

“Can I assist you with anything else?”

“I’m fine,” Elizabeth said, and her words were the queue to Flora collect and organize whatever was used to do the hair and were occupying almost every free space over the antique vanity. Quietly, the woman excused herself, leaving the young Viscountess alone in her room to finish getting ready for dinner.

After putting on the earrings and necklace, Elizabeth got up, smoothed the skirt of the dress, and took another look at her reflection, still debating on how she felt about the Empire-waisted ivory dress with a bodice with golden embroidery, puff sleeves, an embroidered fine sheer silk that covered the long skirt. An unexpected look even to someone used to gala dresses. Swaying in front of the mirror, the golden details sparkled under the light, projecting little diamond shapes in the floor, and she smiled.

The sound of someone knocking at the door rapid and strong, startled her. Her mind pictured the only person she wished would come knock on her door, and her heart accelerated at the thought. In the blink of an eye, her hand reached the doorknob. The sight of Briar standing in the hallway, was not what she desired. Though, the other was too overjoyed to notice the disappointment in her face.

“Lizzy, I’m never ever taking this off my body!” Her friend’s excitement could not be contained in her tiny body, and it overflowed in her eyes, smile, and voice. Like a ballerina, she twirled in her long purple and golden dress also with the same kind of high waistline and embroideries, black hair pulled up in an elaborated bun, with a few loose strands framing her smiling face.

Another door clicked open, and Annabelle came out in a long satin ruby red gown with a richly ornamented bodice. “Why are you being so loud?” she teased Briar, brandishing a mascara brush, “I almost poked my eye!”

“How are you not screaming, Ann?”

“I don’t know about you, but I can’t do my makeup while screaming…”

“Hush! I love this dress! And I love the corset! My spine has never been straighter and look!” – she exaggeratedly pointed both hands at her breasts – “I look like a C cup now!”

The others laughed, and Briar pulled them to a photo. After complimenting each other’s looks some more and a little demonstration from Elizabeth on how to hold the skirts to go down the stairs, the three were ready to make their appearance. However, footsteps coming from the other wing caused them to halt.

“And look who else has outdone himself,” Briar nudged Elizabeth, pointing at Hamid sporting the Ottoman attire Elizabeth had picked for him.

Bowing with an exaggerated flourish, Hamid addressed them in his most charming tone and flashed an equally charming grin, “Good evening, ladies!”

While Hamid kissed the hand Briar held out to him, she theatrically fanned herself with an invisible fan. However, quickly, Hamid’s gaze found Elizabeth’s, and she returned his smile, pleased to see his choice of outfit and no visible sign of annoyance.

“This outfit is amazing!” Annabelle said, and Hamid opened his arms to let her inspect the details in the golden embroideries in his long teal kaftan, that was an accurate reproduction like the dresses the trio was sporting. “Now I wish I could paint portraits of all of you!” she sighed disappointed.

“If our host allow us the use of futuristic technology, we could take pictures,” Hamid suggested looking at Elizabeth, who giggled.

“Pictures? Do tell us more about that...”

“A wonderful invention, my lady, that shall make painters jobless!”

Slipping out of character, Annabelle feigned offense, “I resent that, Hamid.”

After an effusive apology to the artist of the group, more banter ensued before the four huddled with Hamid in the middle. Following Briar’s directions, a few selfies were taken, and once Briar was satisfied, she posted the best two to Pictagram.

“Brilliant! And look at you!” Briar cried, turning the screen to Elizabeth’s face, “You look like those portraits at the museum!”

Embarrassed, Elizabeth blushed and looked away. “We all look lovely.”

Annabelle and Briar did not ignore the way Hamid contemplated the young Viscountess, studying her as if she were indeed a portrait from a Renaissance master; sharing knowing looks, they excuse themselves to find Luke downstairs, and deliberately left him alone with Elizabeth.

The man did not waste the opportunity and stepped closer. His intoxicating perfume filled the air around them, and in such proximity his eyes sparkled more than the silver medallion hanging from his neck or all the golden in his outfit.

“She is right,” Hamid whispered. Taking her hand, he kissed it unhurriedly, lingering on her knuckles while never tearing his gaze from her face. “Tonight, you look like you stepped out of a painting,” he explained still holding her hand, “The most exquisite masterpiece, I must add.”

Heat creeped up her neck, straight to her face, tinting her cheeks in a darker pink hue, and she wished he would not notice. However, judging by his grin, she could never dissimulate how he affects her.

Clearing her throat, Elizabeth changed the subject, “I see you picked the Ottoman attire.”

“How could I choose anything else? It is gorgeous, and it suits me to be a prince for the evening, don’t you think?” he asked, straightening his posture.

She nodded, averting her gaze. “I was afraid you could think it was offensive.”

“I figured by the two-page note where you apologised several times in case it was discriminatory or distasteful, and suggested I could wear that boring British suit, or my own suit or whatever I felt like… I must say this last part actually let me a bit confused about the dress code, and I considered coming in my pyjamas, but I don’t think my charm would be enough to prevent Lady Dominique from sending me immediately back to London …”

“Don’t mock me…”

“I would never. I was just remarking the comical aspects...” He smiled fondly and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I appreciate your concern. But you should not have worried so much. I know you, and your heart.”

“My heart?” she scoffed. If you knew my heart, you would never ask me advice about someone else! “Isn’t this a little presumptuous?”

He chuckled and pressed her hand against his chest, and she looked up at his face, his smile almost reaching his ears, dimpling his cheeks and crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I am not humble when it comes to my skills,” he said, and his words still carried the lilt of his laugh, “and you, Lady Elizabeth, have a heart of gold and only a fool would mistake your actions like that... And I am no fool, yes?”

Tilting his head, he gazed at her face. His heart drummed beneath her palm in a steady cadence. She could not resist staring at his shapely lips curled into a wide grin. For a second, she almost forgot herself and where they were; at least, until the indistinct sounds from the conversation Annabelle, Briar and Luke were engrossed at the ground floor reached her ears.

“Hamid,” she breathed his name.

“People expect us… May I escort you downstairs, my lady?”

She acquiesced, and he placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. In that moment, she was no longer Elizabeth, but the protagonist of a period drama, and Hamid was the charming love interest, who could inspire anyone to defy the entire society for their love.

“According to your note, my outfit was inspired by one that belonged to the Imperial prince who married the countess. What about your stunning dress? Was it by any chance inspired by one of hers?”

“Yes!” she replied, excited at the chance of talking about the subject. “Actually, mine and Briar's were inspired by her outfits. This one was modelled after one of Countess Clara's portraits. It’s said it was a gift from her father, and the one chosen when she presented herself before Queen Charlotte for the first time. Lady Grandmother showed me this reproduction of a note that a London newspaper wrote about her elegance at the time. They praised her as the most beautiful debutante in the Season.”

“I can imagine. And you are doing justice to her elegance, Lady Elizabeth, and dare I say, you outshined her beauty.”

“Have you even seen her portraits?”

“I don’t have to,” he said in a serious tone, and gazed with adoration. Elizabeth’s heart threatened to escape, pounding against its cage with unprecedent impetus.

When they reached the ground floor, despite the indiscrete stares of their friends, he kissed her hand again.

“Thank you for allowing me the pleasure of your company, Lady Elizabeth. Or should I call you Lady Clara for the evening?”

“If it is important to your commitment to your character, you can. And perhaps I will call you Your Highness for the rest of the evening as well.”

“Nothing would please me more, my lady,” he said in the most pompous tone he could impersonate and enveloped her hand with both of his, his thumb gently drawing circles in her skin. “Now, since we are impersonating them, does this mean I get to escort you the whole evening?” he asked inching closer. The intensity of his gaze burned her skin, but she did not avert her gaze this time, and her lips parted to answer.

However, instead of Elizabeth, it was someone behind them who replied.

“Actually, according to proper etiquette, if you were a true Regency couple you would spend most of the evening apart, focusing your attention on the enjoyment of your guests,” Lady Dominique said in her grave voice.

“How does she do that?” Briar mouthed to Annabelle, uttering the surprise etched in her and Luke’s faces watching the elderly woman approach them barely making a sound. Annabelle shrugged, then offered a warm smile at the elderly woman, who patted her arm fondly.

“However, this evening Lady Elizabeth will be hosting us, and a much less formal setting has been chosen. One more suitable for a night amongst friends in the twenty-first century.”

The elderly woman’s fingers encircled the delicate pendant hanging from Elizabeth’s necklace and she simply smiled. The gesture probably a pretence to address her granddaughter.

“You look absolutely stunning, my dear. You would make this house proud in any century.”

Elizabeth thanked her and returned the smile.

“And you look extraordinarily elegant, Lady Dominique.” Hamid bowed and kissed her hand, and she thanked him, taking the opportunity to contemplate everyone dressed in Regency Era fashion.

“Don’t you all look lovely?” she said. “However, I believe the foyer is not the place any of us was supposed to be right now.”

“Of course. Follow me,” Elizabeth said, leading the group to the drawing room.

When Elizabeth entered the room, her jaw almost fell. Sitting with her father was Mr. Sinclaire. Both dressed in contemporary suits and engaged in a serious conversation that had creased their brows. Seeing the group, her father grinned, stood up and walked in their direction; Mr. Sinclaire followed him close, hands behind his back and uneasiness in his eyes.

“Welcome to Edgewater. We are content to host Eliza’s friends this weekend. I hope you all have a pleasant stay.”

Her father kissed her cheek, and she hugged his waist with one arm. Leaning closer, he spoke softly, “I am awfully sorry, my dear, for not wearing the ensemble. You know how thrilled with the idea I was, but our meeting got delayed…”

“I understand, dad.”

“I hope you don’t mind the intrusion, Miss Foredale, but your father extended me an invitation.”

“I do not mind at all, Mr. Sinclaire. You’re a friend of the family and you’re always welcome at Edgewater.”

Mr. Sinclaire bowed, and a hint of a smile curled his lips.

Working with him this past month and having his company at events was important to get to know him a little better. They have become friendlier, but not exactly friends. Either way, it’s a remarkable progress considering how reserved Mr. Sinclaire is, and they feel less awkward around the other.

Earl Vincent excused himself to make rounds, leaving Elizabeth and Mr. Sinclaire alone. Somehow, Briar and Edmund managed to sit together at the furthest corner possible and whatever they were talking about was more appealing than anyone or anything else, including the food.

Holding a tray with hors d’oeuvres, a member of the staff dressed in a uniform that resembled the ones used in the manor in the 1800s approached Elizabeth and Mr. Sinclaire, who picked one tartlet.

“Was that the secret meeting?” she asked Mr. Sinclaire who had taken a nibble at the tartlet.

“I never said it was secret,” he replied. “The client requested discretion and I complied. Like we ought to.”

“I am your assistant and the client’s daughter.”

“Therefore, I assume you will not feel discouraged to ask your father details about the meeting.”

Elizabeth cast a sideway glance at the man; he is smirking, knowing she won’t interrogate her father about any subject they discussed.

“Maybe I will...”

Ending their conversation, she waltzed to where her friends were engrossed in an animated conversation with her father, standing close to Luke.

“This is amazing. I lack the talent to play any instrument, however I can still appreciate –” Earl Vincent interrupts himself when Elizabeth approaches the group. “Eliza, did you know your friend can play the violin?”

“Yes, father, I am aware.”

“If only we still had one... Luke could delight us with a performance.”

Elizabeth glanced at Luke, eager to apologise for any annoyance in advance, but he offered a content smile to her and her father.

“It would be my pleasure, sir.”

The Earl of Edgewater smiled fondly, certainly delighted with the breath of fresh air the lively group brought to the manor.

“We may not have a violin; however, we have a piano that has been neglected these past several months and dearly misses to be played.”

Understanding the hint, Annabelle laughed. “Why, we cannot have that, can we, sir? Perhaps I should play it later.”

“You read my mind, my dear,” Earl Vincent joked, earning a few chuckles from Hamid. “And to make the night absolutely perfect, perhaps Eliza could join you for a duet...”

Elizabeth visibly cringed and tried to disguise it by taking the glass of wine to her lips.

Annabelle sought to sort that out with the Earl and Lady Dominique, both already excited with the prospect of a soirée overflowing with music and laugh, and suggesting songs for the repertory.

“I will have someone bring the songbooks.”

“Did you hear that?” Elizabeth asked. “We’re been summoned to dinner.”

“I did not hear a thing.” Lady Dominique looked at the doorway where someone from the staff was supposed to ring the bells like it used to be done in the past. “Are you certain?”

“Absolutely.”

“I heard it too,” Hamid avowed. “My mouth already waters in anticipation of the delicacies the cook has chosen to surprise us, my lady.”

“Indeed, I believe it will not disappoint. The menu is suitable for a special evening, Mr. Osmanoğlu.”

Hamid placed a hand on Elizabeth’s back, and she breathed relieved watching Lady Dominique inviting the group to place their mobiles in a wooden box before going to the dining room.

“Thanks.”

“Will you allow me the pleasure to escort the most beautiful heiress to the dining room?”

“Well, you’ll have to ask her yourself...” Elizabeth joked, and Hamid nudged her side.

“I am asking her!”

Smiling shyly, she offered her hand, which he promptly placed in the crook of his elbow, and they handed their mobiles to be stored before walking together to the dining room. From the corridor, they still could overhear Briar’s opposing the idea.

“What if we want to take photos?”

“The meals are made to be enjoyed, not photographed,” Lady Dominique insisted, and Briar hesitated. “You will have your mobile back after dinner.”

The two giggled, and Hamid leaned to speak closer to Elizabeth.

“Will you really deny us the joy to hear you play?”

“I do not perform in public anymore.”

“Public?” he asked with an offended pout. “We’re your friends. And fans.”

“Fans? None of you ever saw me perform.”

“Are you sure about that?” he teased, “I know people too.”

“You wouldn’t...”

“You went after my childhood pictures… maybe I have videos of your recitals, Miss Foredale.”

“Correction. Your sisters came to my DMs. Then two of your cousins. And your aunt. It would be rude to tell them not to send your pictures and videos.”

“Videos? Which videos?”

“Which ones do you not want me to see?”

“You’re bluffing...” He narrowed his eyes at her.

“Maybe... or maybe not.” Elizabeth giggled and pulled him. “Now, come. We must find our seats...”

The illumination of the immense room had been dimmed, and flameless led candles created an intimate atmosphere at the long wooden table covered with a white tablecloth where elegant dining utensils were neatly arranged to accommodate the party. Beautiful floral arrangements made the dining room look even more beautiful than she remembered.

Elizabeth’s lips curled into a wide smile. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she uttered the words with sheer amazement.

“Stunningly beautiful,” he replied, eyes fixed on her face, and she pretended not understanding what he implied.

Chatter increased around them, when everyone was gathered at the room, and Briar still lamented parting from her mobile.

Gentlemanly, the Earl helped Lady Dominique, then occupied the seat at the head of the table. His daughter’s name was written in a beautiful cursive font on the card on his other side. Due to the countess still unexplained absence and to accommodate Mr. Sinclaire, the sitting chart had been reorganized. For instance, Elizabeth noticed how Hamid's name had been moved from the place beside her to give room to Mr. Sinclaire. Considering it was a small gathering and people would still be able to enjoy themselves despite the minor changes, she held her tongue. Whatever else were her grandmother’s intentions behind the new arranges, she wouldn’t let it get under her skin.

“I suppose we part here,” Hamid said with a smile, oblivious to the changes, and pulled the chair to help Elizabeth sit, a gesture that earned teasing remarks from their friends. “But our conversation is not over,” he whispered so only she could hear and moved to the other side, to take his seat beside Annabelle.

While enjoying the delicious courses and the conversations – which navigated from political topics and the latest news to art and even a little bit of gossip to Briar’s utter pleasure –, Elizabeth and Hamid stole glances at each other from time to time, like true characters of a Regency novel. Both smiling at the wordless jokes exchanged in their meaningful looks, anticipating what the other might say.

To everyone’s amusement, Hamid delighted them with the many stories of his travels and funny diplomatic incidents. Even Mr. Sinclaire chuckled at the retell of one of his gaffes at Russia.

“Why did no one warn you?” Luke asked, wiping a tear escaping from his eye, after all the laughing.

“Who knows?” Hamid's shoulders raised almost touching his ears and he grinned. “However, afterwards the Minister bent over laughing. Actually, he cackled. Loudly. Many people never saw him smile before that evening!”

The presents laughed almost as much as the Russian Minister from the tale, only stopping when a new course arrived. Desserts were served after the fourth course, and then it was time to return to the drawing room. It didn’t take long until the first plea to Annabelle play be heard, and she obliged after finishing the brandy in her glass.

Standing beside Edmund, who smiled against the scotch tumbler while admiring Briar dancing in Hamid’s company, Elizabeth also observed the pair. Her mind, however, was on a complete opposite setting from her step-brother’s.

“Can I ask you a question?” Elizabeth’s soft voice broke the spell, and her step-brother’s gaze teared from the couple dancing. “How can one know if a flirty guy is flirting with you because he likes you, or if he’s just charming you like he does to anyone else?”

Edmund’s eyes squinted in thought before addressing her. “Is this you asking romantic advice from me? In a room where every single person is more qualified than myself?” She nodded and he downed the remaining of the liquid in the tumbler in one gulp. “Why don’t you ask the guy?”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Then the only other option is mind reading, and I cannot help with that.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m serious!”

“Are you talking about him?” Edmund tilted his head to the spot Hamid was having a blast following Briar’s directions to what seemed some sort of ballroom dance probably inspired by one of the scenes from the 2005 version of Pride & Prejudice. “I am no expert, but... when he flirts, does he look at anyone else the way he looks at you?”

Elizabeth's head jerked up and she stared at him. “What do you mean? How does he look at me?”

“If you have to ask, I believe you haven’t been paying enough attention...”

Silently, she observed Hamid and Briar. Edmund smiled when the man’s gaze found Elizabeth and his grin widened, confirming what he suspects.

“I’ll get another drink. Do you want one, Eliza?”

“No, thank you,” she said and returned to the settee where Luke was enjoying the music by himself.

When the second song was over, Briar and Hamid finished their impromptu waltz in a fit of giggles; and Lady Dominique suggested, “Elizabeth, my dear, you should join Annabelle and delight us with your angelic voice.”

The attention focused on the young woman.

“I don’t know...” she said wringing her hands. “It is awfully late, and we have plenty planned for tomorrow...”

“It’s not even midnight!” her father remarked. “I believe your friends wouldn’t mind losing a bit of sleep in exchange of listening to you. I know I wouldn’t.”

“I second that,” Hamid said, joining the chorus who begged her to play.

“Play with me!” Annabelle invited, patting the empty space beside her with the most impressive performance of the puppy eyes to this day. “Please! It’ll be fun!”

Briar plopped beside her, “You better accept it already, Lizzy! We can be very persuasive.”

“You mean terribly insistent?”

“No, I do not. And Edmund said you loved playing.”

“Loved. Past tense.”

“Seriously, what’s the worst that could happen if you’d give it a try, Liz?” Luke asked and she considered which would be the worst possible scenarios.

Disappointing her father would be almost impossible at this point. If she sits right in the bench and not falls off, he’ll possibly cheer her for that. Another possibility is embarrassing herself in front of Mr. Sinclaire. Though, he wouldn’t be her boss for long, and whatever critics about her skills couldn’t possibly be worse than her own judgement.

As if listening to her thoughts, Luke added, “Even if you make mistakes, your audience is maybe a little too tipsy to notice…”

Besides being the only sober and able to discern if she sucked at the piano, Hamid was too kind to criticise her and would certainly find something positive to say about her horrible performance.

With a resigned sigh, she got up and marched to the piano, sitting with Annabelle.

“We need an easy one… I’m a little rusty,” Elizabeth confided.

Amongst giggles and whispered words, the two went through the songbooks Lady Dominique had someone bring earlier. Finally, they picked a music to play together: Pachelbel’s “Canon in D major” to help Elizabeth warm up. Frustrated, she puffed whenever her fingers slipped and missed a key or she messed with the tempo.

“Don’t overthink,” Annabelle reassured her, “You’re doing fine.”

Next, Annabelle picked a Broadway songbook, one of Lady Dominique’s favourites, and they perused the sheets and deliberated about the songs.

“Seasons of Love”?

“I don’t know that one…”

Briar approached the piano and whispered a little too loud, “Beauty and the Beast”. Her suggestion was accepted, and both played and sang the lyrics to everyone utter enjoyment.

Their third song was “I dreamed a dream”. More confident, Elizabeth sang, while Annabelle played. Her angelic voice filled the room, who went completely silent. All eyes on her. Overjoyed, Earl Vincent stood up and clapped when they finished, and she could swear a tear escaped his eye.

Lastly, it was an improvised version of “Make you feel my love” to keep the Glee vibe and prompted Briar to stand closer to the piano and sing every word with them, despite being off key. At that point, Elizabeth couldn’t even remember why she was so worried about playing for them. Forty minutes after she sat at the bench, she was breathless and thirsty, but smiling. Annabelle didn’t miss the glint in her eyes.

“It wasn’t that dreadful, was it?” she asked with a knowing smirk.

Elizabeth snorted with laughter and said, “Who knew not playing to impress a lot of stiff nobles could be this fun?”

“Me! And I have been telling you this the entire time!” Annabelle nudged Elizabeth’s rib playfully, who giggled.

“Even if it had been dreadful,” Elizabeth said in an even lower tone, “seeing that look on his face would have been worth the trouble...”

Annabelle glanced at the spot the other was staring at and saw the Earl. His smile glowing with a mix of joy and pride.

“I haven’t seen him this happy in years,” Annabelle remarked, and Elizabeth’s eyes lingered on him. Unable to forget his earlier troubled expression and the meeting with Sinclaire, she wondered if he was truly happy or hiding something from her.

Noticing the attention of the young ladies on him, Earl Vincent smiled. “Are the artists still taking requests?”

“From you, sir, always,” Annabelle replied. “But first the artists need a break and refreshments.”

The two moved away from the piano, and Annabelle whispered, “I thought you decided to play for a different reason…”

“What do you mean?”

With a meaningful look, she signalled at Hamid, who was sitting with Mr. Sinclaire, but his gaze would often search Elizabeth. “I saw him begging you to play…” Annabelle said in a conspiratorial tone, while pouring water into two glasses.

“He encouraged me, of course, and so did Luke and Briar, but…” Elizabeth picked one of the glasses and stared at it for a moment. “That was not the reason why I played… I… I did it for myself. I haven’t played like this in so long… because I disliked what it meant: being the centre of attention, having people singling me out, judging me… and I forgot how music is something I truly love… my mom’s gift to me… and I should not let anyone stop me from enjoying it...”

“I’m truly happy you remembered that.” Annabelle raised her glass and they clincked.

“Thanks for helping me.”

Annabelle’s free arm pulled her to a hug.

After complimenting the pair for their performance, Lady Dominique retired to her room. Instead of following her example, the five friends decided it was time to join around the piano to sing improvised versions of old and new hits from the charts, butchering them in the most terrible and democratic fashion; however, no one complained. Not even Mr. Sinclaire, who cradled a whiskey tumbler, sitting in an armchair in one corner of the room with Edmund. The man smiled when Earl Vincent succumbed to the appeals and joined them for an extremely off key version of “Satisfaction”.

Later that same night

Elizabeth had changed to her pyjamas and was brushing her teeth when one sharp knock on the door interrupted the rituals before bed.

Again, her heart betrays her, wishing Hamid was on the other side. An idea that both excites and terrifies her. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him like that? Especially now that there might be someone else in his life?

Once more, when she opens the door, wearing a black jumper and leggings instead of a dress is Briar. This time, she is not smiling either. The tip of her bright pink fluffy slipper scuffs the carpet in the hallway, while her lips turn into an exaggerated pout.

“I know it is late, but can we talk for a minute?”

Elizabeth nodded and ushered her inside.

“Did something happen?”

Briar plopped on the bed and sighed.

“Has your heart ever betrayed you, Lizzy?”

“What do you mean?”

“Arthur is the sweetest man I’ve ever met. He never ghosts me and texts every single day… He actually planted the flowers of that bouquet he gave me!”

“That’s lovely!” Elizabeth remarked, without knowing exactly where this conversation is going.

“It is… He would be the most perfect boyfriend; someone I could introduce to my mum… maybe even plan a future with…”

“That’s something good, right? May I ask why you look so upset?”

“Because my heart is bloody stupid! Or my cupid is testing me!” she growled, “I cannot stop thinking about someone else. Some stupid random mate I met. Well, he is not actually stupid. Or random. The other mate is quite dreamy too. A bit awkward. And nerdy. But we have meaningful conversations. And I think he sees me. Really sees me, you know?”

A knot settled on Elizabeth’s stomach when realisation dawned upon her. She knew exactly who this was about. Taking a deep breath, she asked the question that was merely rhetorical, “You are talking about Edmund, right?”

Briar growled again and let her body fall back. “He is not free to date me. I should be running the other way. But I don’t want to…” Her stare fixes at the ceiling and Elizabeth sits beside her, patting her arm.

“I thought it was just harmless flirtation… like you said…”

“I thought so too…” Briar’s hands covered her face, and what Elizabeth assumes is a string of curse words is muffled by her palms.

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed… I guess we don’t choose who we become fond of…”

“This is all so… Complicated... Once, he called me by mistake. At least that’s what he said… but he stuttered, you know, in that way the words tumble over when he cannot say what he means…” Elizabeth nodded, and she continued, “But I didn’t mind. Even if it was a little lie and he was not going to admit he wished to talk to me… I just asked him about his day. And we spent an hour talking about nothing and everything… we just talked. He’d call me every now and then ever since that evening… And now we don’t know what to do with these feelings.”

“We?”

“That engagement means nothing to him…”

“He told you that?”

“He’s not happy.”

“But he’s still engaged. And knowing Henrietta… well… she would never approve him breaking up the engagement unless the woman was wealthier and had better connections –”

“He’s an adult, Lizzy. He can make his own choices,” Briar’s words were firm, no sign of the usual warmth and sweetness, and Elizabeth suspected it was herself who needed to hear that, to believe in that.

Lying down, Elizabeth held her hand and offered an encouraging smile.

“Can I do anything to make you feel better?”

“You did. I just needed to talk to someone…” Briar smiled. “But I wouldn’t mind some distraction... maybe you can tell me nasty things about his fiancée, so I won’t feel like a terrible person...”

“You probably already know more about her than I do... And you’re not a terrible person.”

After a few moments of silence, Elizabeth peeked at Briar, eyes open wide and unusual pensiveness creasing her forehead.

“The answer is yes. My heart betrayed me too.”

“Are you admitting you love Hamid?”

“I do not love him. But I kinda like him. And I can’t stop thinking about him. And maybe I want to be with him. If he wants to be with me of course and not –”

“Ohmygod!” Briar squealed and threw herself at Elizabeth. “Finally!”

#desire and decorum fanfic #desire and decorum #choices fanfic #prince hamid #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #desire & decorum #oc: elizabeth foredale #briar daly #edmund marlcaster #earl of edgewater #dominique foredale #luke harper #mr. sinclaire #annabelle parsons

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hrwinter · 4 years

Photo

You’re not sure what you remember about home. If you try, it might be blue skies and warm summer rain that you played in for hours. It might be your mother washing the mud out of your clothes, frowning and asking if it was really necessary for you to roll that completely in the dirt. You told her you were just doing what the dog did.

You had a dog, right?

You’re not really sure.

Because the other memories you have are not blue and green and the dirt brown of your knobby childhood knees. They’re grey and orange and crispy charcoal black. The market you visited where your parents would sometimes have hushed meetings behind shaky hands, it’s rubble. The wind that used to blow the fragrance of fresh peaches and citrus, it’s ash. The home you had is gone.

You remember a voyage, long, dark, and ripe with a putrid accumulation of smells. You remember getting to see the water a few times, opal blue and ever shifting. It was beautiful. But the ship crashed or was attacked, you don’t know, and then it was back to the oranges of fire, the reds of blood, and the screams of your parents you’d never find.

You washed up on shore alone.

Although, not quite alone.

That’s when you first saw her. The crow. You’re sure of that. She’d been there, pecking at the sand near your arm, the same one still clutching the cheap large plastic debris. It had saved your life. You looked over the edge of it, coughing salt water into the surf, and you saw her.

It was weird. She’d surprised you. You’d never seen a bird so big and black, you thought, and she shuffled from foot to foot, nervous. Was she hungry? Was she scared?

You don’t get a chance to find out before a man with large hands is swatting her away. She cawed angrily, reluctant to go, but she did, maybe to a nearby tree. He shook your shoulders then and asked you who you were.

“Kara,” your voice came out in a croak, not yours.

“Kara,” he says again.

The crow cawed.

It’s years before you put the patchwork pieces of your life back together, that you find out what happened to you. That a warmongering company, LuthorCorp, helped exacerbate the tensions in your region then exploited and profited from them by selling both sides weapons. But that doesn’t become relevant for a long time. For now, you’re an immigrant, and an immigrant is not a very good thing in this new country.

It could be worse. There are other kids who are not as lucky as you. Somehow having never set foot here, you have dual citizenship. Your mother was American. So, despite the government calling your parents insurgents and traitors, they don’t try to deport you. Or keep you locked in a cage. Instead, they put you in foster care.

It’s hard. It’s toiling. It takes you a long while to learn the language. You’re shy to talk because of it.

And you’re pretty. At least, people keep telling you that you are. You’re not sure what you see when you look in the mirror. The kind, clever blue eyes of your mother. The hard line of your father’s brow when he’d reprimand you for sneaking too many cookies.

But your prettiness doesn’t feel like a good thing. The other children resent you for it. And it brings you a different kind of attention, a kind that has you cowering from your foster mom’s drunk boyfriend, a kind that has your crow swooping in and attempting to peck out his eyes. She almost manages it, but when he swings, taking hold of her, you jump into the fray, too. You would’ve killed him if your foster mother hadn’t intervened.

That’s right, your crow has followed you here, has followed you through it all. She’s in the tree outside of the window when your foster mother returns you to the group facility for being ‘cruel and violent.’

You didn’t do anything. At least, you didn’t do anything you wouldn’t do again, a hundred times over.

“We’re better off here, anyway,” you tell the crow sitting with you during lunch recess.

“Why do you talk to that thing?” a boy asks you nearby, trapping a soccer ball with his foot.

“She’s my friend.”

“Friends can’t be birds.”

Yes, they can, you think.

“She doesn’t understand you,” he feels the need to add, certain.

But she does. You know she does.

---

You’re adopted into a new home not long after that. It’s different than the others. They’re called ‘Danvers.’ Eliza and Jeremiah, your adoptive parents, they’re kind and intelligent. They encourage your natural abilities in science and math. You’re starting to get A’s for the first time in your life, and you’re less reluctant to speak in class.

You still feel like an impostor. It doesn’t seem like a reality that’s meant for you. You were meant for the bottom of the sea.

“You have a right to be here,” Eliza tells you, but that’s not how your new sister acts.

Your crow has somehow inferred the antagonism between you. One afternoon she swoops in to steal a large portion of Alex’s sandwich and drops it on your plate.

“Hey!” Alex shouts after her, but the crow merely glares at her with dark black eyes, wings ruffling on your side of the picnic table.

“You did that on purpose.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

Alex looks between two of you, wary, parsing.

“How did you train it to do that, anyway?”

“…patience?” you improvise.

“You’re lying.”

The crow caws loudly, and Alex narrows her eyes.

“Whatever, I’m going inside.”

The crow watches her leave, and you soothe her ruffled feathers with a hand. The sheen of them always makes them seem oily, but they’re not at all. Her feathers are soft, and she preens a little under the touch. You gives her a nickel to play with. Maybe you’ll actually try to train her.

So, you make her puzzles. She seems somewhat competent in checkers. You read to her. Her favorite stories are fairy tales. Her favorite foods are unsalted peanuts, boiled eggs, shell and all. She likes apples too (you painstakingly removes the seeds, they’re bad for birds.) You feed her from the window. She sleeps in the tree there and follows you to school and back every single day. She watches you organize quarters for a state collection, nipping slightly at the plastic casing.

“I already gave you Iowa,” you tell her.

She clicks her beak back at you. Sometimes, she’ll steal your keys. You think she just likes things that you like, but you’re not sure. Alex says you’re projecting. Alex says you make up things that aren’t there, but honestly, Alex is a little mean.

Once on a fishing trip, the crow used bread to catch a fish, laying it before you all on the thick wood pier planks.

“That bird is smart,” Eliza comments, watching her chase away a hawk that seems a little too interested in the fish.

You’re proud. She’s fearless.

“Their brains are bigger than ours proportionally,” you reply with enthusiasm. You look to Alex. “See.”

“Her brain is bigger than yours,” Alex mumbles over her empty fishing line, and the crow dives down to nip at her.

“Hey!” Alex swats without making contact. The crow flies away again. “That crow doesn’t like me, I swear. She knows me.”

“Of course she does.”

“It’s meaner to me.”

“She’s a she, not an it,” you correct her.

“It’s not normal.”

“It’s perfectly normal for a crow,” you bicker with Alex. “They don't forget a face. They hold a grudge.”

“You sound like the Discovery Channel.”

“Well, it’s true. Did you know that they also mourn the dead? That they don’t migrate, staying in one place for most of their life?”

“So, you’re saying we’ll never get rid of it? Great.”

“She,” you correct her again testily. “And they can live to be 15 years old. So, yeah, you’re stuck.”

Alex quiets, and you’re thrilled to have won the argument.

But deep down inside, you’re willing to admit it’s a little weird, she’s a little weird. Crows are supposed to be social, and you’ve never seen her with any other crow. She only talks to you. She only follows you.

It would be crazy to think she wasn’t quite a crow, but something else, something more. Wouldn’t it? But you kind of do. You don’t admit it to anyone, but you do.

---

Graduation from high school is close, only days away. You’ve arranged everything for college, although not without a hulking amount of help from Eliza. She organized all of your scholarship forms, your applications, your dozens of essays. She kept you on track with projects and midterms and extracurriculars (you’re the captain of the Geology club, who knew!) And it’s all materialized into your acceptance at National City University. It’s only a couple of hours from Midvale, and you can’t wait for August.

Sometimes it’s crazy to think you’re going to college. A blonde, blue eyed girl who washed up on the beach one day like a sand dollar? You would’ve never put your money on her.

But here you are, walking a beach not that far from the one you arrived on, a big slate blue sky in front of you, wind whipping your hair. You think about the future; the new city, the potluck roommate, eighteen hours of classes in biomedical engineering.

“You’ll come with me to college, right?” you say to the crow perched on your shoulder, bobbing with every step you take.

The crow softly caws and nuzzles its head on your shoulder. It’s a rare form of her affection. Otherwise, her eyes are focused on the little crabs skittering in and out of the waves.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, you know,” you reach to bring the crow to your hand, her pointed claws clinging gracefully to two of your fingers. She looks back at you expectant and listening, canting her head to the side every now and again.

“We’ve never really talked about it,” you say as if it’s typical to apologize for conversations you haven’t had with your crow. “But you’ve always been there. You protected me.”

The crow flaps her wings a little. Is it pride? Joy?

“Thank you.”

You’re not sure what overtakes you then, but you do something you’ve never done before. Despite the fact that you’ve seen her roll around in ant piles, you lean forward and plant a little kiss on her feathered head.

Immediately, you know something has changed, that something is different. There’s a shimmer in the air in front of you, prismatic in color, and the crow flies away from you, landing, staggering in the sand. You chase after, but a crisp gust of wind blows sand into your eyes and you wobble, falling. When you scramble to your feet again, blinking and rubbing the grit out of your eyes, you don’t see your crow, but a girl with eyes as green as spring leaves, with hair as black as crow.

“You’re her,” you say as she sits up, looking confused, one armed draped across her middle.

“Yes,” the girl answers simply, shaping the word as if unfamiliar.

“You’re naked,” you announce.

“Yes.”

You strip your light jacket off, suddenly rushing to cover her. You rub her shoulders and she looks at you in that same, too intelligent way.

It is her.

You have no idea know what to say next. You just watched a bird transform into a human. It’s not real. You made it up. Maybe you passed out. You did eat a lot of cinnamon rolls right before this. You pinch yourself, but you don’t wake up. You’re still here on the windy beach, clutching a familiar creature in your arms.

In a panic, you fall back on the very first English you learned.

“I’m Kara,” you say. She sort of smiles as if that’s obvious. “What’s your name?”

She looks away, thinks hard. She has a strong jaw. Her skin is too white, like it’s never seen sun. Maybe not under the feathers? God, you think you’re going crazy.

“Lena.”

“Do you have parents, Lena?”

It’s a ridiculous question. She’s been with you for eleven years. But it’s a ridiculous situation.

“I—don’t remember. But I guess I do,” she says thoughtfully. Her voice has a raspy quality to it, not unlike her caw. “They probably think I’m dead.”

“What happened to you?”

She shakes her head again.

“I don’t remember,” then, “a curse, maybe. On my father. A woman came to our house that night. ‘A payment taken of your most prized possession’, she said. Something about an enemy loved.”

“A curse,” you repeat back. It makes sense. Even if nothing about this makes sense.

You shake your head, focusing on what’s important.

“Don’t worry,” you take her hand. Her palm is butter smooth. “Let’s go home.”

#supercorp #fanfic #supergirl au #crow au #i don't know #i literally don't #this was in my drafts for six months and i finally was like fuck it i'm finishing #i havent written 2nd POV in like one hundred years

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peeterparkr · 3 years

Text

perennial;tom holland|eleven.

chapter eleven: snapdragons & sunflowers (Vol. 1)

↳ flower meaning: snapdragons: deception. sunflowers: unconditional love.

chapter summary: to ask for a kiss.

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: fluff, angst, comedy, all in one, mentions or allusion to sex but not smut :), you’ll see, alcohol.

You’ll hate me.

word count: 11.2K

SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE THE CHAPTER:

masterlist & profiles

ten (Instagram): in which they share set pictures

ten (tweets & texts:in which the groupchats are…loud

previous chapter next chapter perennial masterlist.

perfidy ( series masterlist)

wanna be tagged?

So, please help me out I think tags aren’t working. So yes, hope you enjoy this :)

Y/N was made of the people she loved or once loved. Everyone is, really, but y/n probably made sure it showed.

Like her habit for photography had come from her very own best friend, of the way she started watching cooking videos because of her other best friend and always read the ingredients on any of the food she ate. Her clothing style had come from her very own first boyfriend who had introduced her to the magnificent world of the 80’s.

Her love for 80’s movies had come from Louis introducing her every night to a different one, a new story, a new song, and honestly it was good he showed her to it, y/n found her one true love. Louis, really, had shown y/n a lot of things, like how to lie to see him at indecent hours, and how And how Louis taught her that love doesn’t have to last and that sometimes people aren’t what we expect.

How she loved pancakes because that’s what her mother used to make them every Sunday, and how she’d learned from her father that sometimes sitting outside in the grass on a sunny day could bring back happiness to us.

How her grandma had taught her how to have a perfect poker face, and how her grandfather had shown her how to peel an orange in a ‘correct way’.

How she had started to drink her tea with lemon and honey because James had once given her one like that and it brought nice memories. And how James had told her that it’s okay to love, even when people tell you not to, you have to fight for your love, you shall never be afraid of who you love. And James teaching her that she should love for herself, for her own, and not having to share her feelings if she didn’t want to.

How y/n had started to watch subtitled films because Timmy had shown her some hidden gems. Or how she had learned from Tim to enjoy little moments, like the sunrise if she ever had to wake up early, or how she opened the windows to listen to the rain splattering. Tim had taught her too much about life, like enjoying wasting time.

Y/N was made, the most, of the people she loved the most. Like how she made pasta the way James had taught her to once when their parents had gone out and James was left in charge.

Or how when she was sad she’d watch that movie her childhood friend had introduced her to, and how they didn’t talk now. How y/n had learned that music was a way of healing because of that same friend.

Or how to make a story sound great with Harry, and how Harry had shown her songs that probably were her favorite ones. How Harry and her knew that they didn’t like tequila because of that one time, and how they had learned that mixing cranberry, and grape juice and vodka tasted great thanks to Sam’s idea.

The way that Emma had taught her to use certain hair products, and how Emma had taught her that sometimes we have to sing out our feelings, and scream and shout. How Emma had taught her the importance of a friendship and having someone’s shoulder to cry on. That she didn’t have to be lonely.

How when she kissed she usually liked to place her hands behind their neck because she’d done that on her very first kiss with Tom, or how she usually ate some of the chocolate chips when she baked cookies because Tom and her used to do that. She had learned how to wrestle from a very young age and beat Tom, and she had learned how to play with his hair in a way to make him smile. She had learned the meaning of a rose, when all her life she had never understood about it, Tom had shown her how to approach a dog, and Tom had taught her how to cuff her jeans in a cool way. Or the habit she’d picked from him of undressing the beer bottle when they were talking or how he opened it with the table. How Tom had taught her how to kiss, from their very first one to the last one, different kisses each time, how he’d taught her each and every kiss is a journey, a mystery. How she’d learned how to deal with heartbreaks and to fall in love all over again. And how she had learned that he’d come back to her. But really, how a heartbreak feels when it’s real.

That’s who y/n was. All the beautiful things of the people she loved.

But she was also the bad ones, unfortunately, because people shape us. Y/N was also made of the ugly parts, very ugly parts.

One that stood out the most, she’d learned from Tom, from James, from her family, was to avoid talking.

Everybody wanted to talk, everybody except y/n. She knew she was being immature, but she’d learned that from everyone around her, not to care if you don’t have to. But she was too overwhelmed, everyone had something to say about, except her. How could she talk if she didn’t know what she wanted?

Tom, Harry, Emma, Tim, James, Sam, Cherry, Aunt Eliza, even Josh and Clark.

Everybody wanted to talk. She didn’t.

She had caught on to what Tom was doing. She'd go along with it, he was the only one she wanted to talk to, honestly.

And Emma, because she knew Emma didn’t judge her, Emma understood y/n, and Emma had been the only one who really didn’t tell her she was wrong. Even if Tim was her best friend, Ema understood that y/n’s heart belonged to Tom.

“Clark is great, I may have fallen in love with him,” Emma had stated.

Y/N nodded. “He’s great, I—“

“Why didn’t you know?” Emma asked.

“I did know. But I didn’t—James was—you know how I’ve only dated three guys?” Y/n asked, she was putting on makeup, she had a date.

“Yeah.”

“James is exactly the opposite, he’s dated like half the gay population his age in London,” y/n scrunched her nose, as she was choosing between lipsticks.. “So I just—Never paid attention to any guy he dated because I never thought it was serious.”

“Are you talking to him now?”

“I did today, only because of Clark,” y/n admitted, giving up on the lipsticks and instead choosing to work on her hair. “James is still angry I am in love.”

“Not angry at that, you know that,” Emma pointed out.

“Is it that wrong I am so in love with Tom?” Y/n left the brush on the table as she turned to look at Emma.

“It’s completely bollocks y/n, but then again,” Emma sighed, “I wish I could be more like you and just love—I mean and I also wish Harry wasn’t so scared okay? He’s just so bloody scared, I wish he’d just say hey, Emma, d’ya fancy to go for a stroll? But no, we are both so… Gosh, I wish we were more like you and Tom, throwing everything down the drain.”

“We are-”

“You are, y/n,” Emma rolled her eyes. “He blows your mind and you basically want to yell it to the world, and he gets you all stupid, and you’re happy again, that’s alright, though-”

Emma was laying down on y/n’s bed, her feet up against the wall, as she was nibbling on a popsicle.

“Yes, I know, we have to talk,” she sighed.

“Who says it has to be right now?” Emma had said. “Right now you barely have time to think, and I see you all happy and giggling, and besides, talking doesn’t have to be dramatic.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just… I don’t get it why James wants it to be dramatic, it’s just hey, you guys love each other, what else is there to know?”

Y/N nodded, turning back to the lipsticks.

“You do have to tell him you know about Cherry, though, which-”

“Yeah, n, no, but I get it,” y/n sighed.

“Which, I love you’re ignoring, just pretending like she doesn’t exist, ” Emma laughed. “She just arrived yesterday, didn’t she?”

“She did,” Y/N sighed. “Ugh, I don’t want to see her and she wants to talk, what does she want to talk about? We’ve never cared about each other before, met her like three times growing up because my mum and hers didn’t get along, which by the way, I’m scared James and I are headed in that same direction.”

“You won’t,” Emma said. “James loves you too much to ever leave you.”

“You never know,” y/n said. “Besides that’s not my point, my point is why does she want to talk? We have nothing in common!”

“Dunno, you’re blood related and you both rode the same dick, seems like you’ve got a lot in common.”

Y/n closed her eyes as she forced a laugh, “Emma!”

“I’m just saying, y/n, that’s why you and I became close, we’ve both kissed the same two guys.”

“It’s different,” Y/N scoffed. “I—just don’t want to see her okay? Because I know I’ll be reminded of every single insecurity I have,” she admitted. “Because I know that the moment I see her I’ll get just so anxious, you know? She’s so pretty, and she’s so perfect and from what-”

“From what I’ve gathered from Eliza, she’s also a mess,” Emma added.

“That’s an issue, that’s Tom’s type, just look at me,” y/n laughed as she stared at a bright red lipstick.

Emma scoffed. “Oh, hadn’t thought about that, Tom’s into messy girls with your genes.”

“It’s so fucked up, though,” y/n said, as she looked up at the wall, she needed to change the flowers, they were drying out. She hadn’t changed them in a while.

Emma shrugged, “considering how small his brain is, he probably thought it would feel the same way if he closed his eyes.”

“As if it would,” y/n replied cockily, finally choosing a light pink, changing it up a bit, she’d always used bright red lipsticks with Tom, “I’ve known him his whole life, and now I’ve—“she cleared her throat. “ I know exactly how to work him up.”

Emma let out a loud and long laugh. “I can tell, Jesus, what did you do to him to have him oh, so mesmerized? Are you a sex goddess or why are those two men so bloody entranced by you?”

Y/N blushed and shook her head laughing. “You’re an idiot.”

“How do you really feel?” Emma wondered, getting the conversation back as serious as it was supposed to be.

“I don’t know,” Y/N admitted, she was still on some pair of pjs. “I… I’ve been talking with Tom, or…” She rolled her eyes. “He’s found a way to talk, and I think it’s worked out for both of us.”

“Oh, what is it?” Emma sighed.

Y/n walked over to her closet, it felt so weird to choose something to wear, Tom had warned her to be casual, something her style, something very her.

“We use the script so we can… I guess we’re projecting it all, and well, I think he’s been understanding about it, and I think I’m starting to understand his point of view, about Tim at least.”

“Please, I don’t need to listen to him to know why he feels that way,” Emma pointed out.

“Really?” Y/n turned back to Emma as she was choosing between them.

“I like the red one,” Emma suggested. “But please, y/n,” Emma scoffed. “Timmy was the one who stole his chance, Timmy was the one who got the girl when he had fucked up and everyone around Tom said it, we’ve all said it at some point, Tim is perfect for you.”

“But—“

“and besides, Timmy was the one-”

“The one who opened the door when Tom came to apologize,” y/n finished Emma’s sentence as she sat down hugging the red dress Emma had suggested.

Emma frowned. “What?”

“Guess Timmy had secrets, too,” y/n said.

Emma seemed confused.

“He never told me about it, how Tom had come a second time, and…” She sighed. “I mean I guess I’m thankful he didn’t but I’m… I’m only wondering—“

“Oh, back when you first started dating,” Emma recalled. “He did tell me about it, and I.. was the one to advise him not to tell you.”

Y/N gulped.

“Would you have run back to Tom?” Emma wondered, embarrassed. “Honestly I told him not to because—Well, I had asked Harry about it, you know? Harry had said you hated each other and that you had been avoiding Tom for a while now. That you were enemies.”

“We were.”

“And I mean—Back then, you really hated him.”

Y/n nodded. “Yeah, I did.”

“So I told Tim not to tell you about it, because I thought—I didn’t know the background but I thought Tom was going to—hurt you, you know? And I guess, we all did, and we all kept that mentality even when he wasn’t trying to.”

“Yeah.”

“Wow, I’ve never thought about that,” Emma nodded. “Even when I knew you were dating back in New York, we were just waiting for it, for Tom to—“

“Yeah, for Tom to pull a Tom,” y/n ended the sentence. “And I mean—He kind of did, but it was my fault.”

“Tom really sabotages himself, it seems.”

Y/N reached out to hug her frog, she was thankful James had brought it, “he does, but because he’s expected to, you know? Maybe that’s why— I haven’t brought it up because I’m not—I’m not expecting the heartbreak this time, and I know bringing up the whole Cherry thing is looking for it,” y/n explained. “I trust him this time, and he really wants to make it work out.”

“Would you have gone back to him? Had Tim told you he had showed up?” Emma questioned.

Y/N breathed in heavily. “Dunno,” she said. “I was so heartbroken back then, I thought— and I had promised myself back then I would never fall back for him, and… I mean, I had even thought I would never love again because that’s how dramatic it was, I really didn’t want to see him, that heartbreak is what led to all this mess, you know?” She explained. “Now Tom knows that, I think he really understands it, and he feels guilty and I mean, I was angry when Tom told me about it, because… Tim, well he didn’t know back then, he just was too sure that Tom loved me but—After learning all of this? Tim should’ve told me, because just now, learning it, I guess it changed a lot of things, not that it erased anything, but I lived all this time thinking he hadn’t… He really hadn’t cared, and it took him a lot of time, still, but he had tried to apologize again, and Tim keeping it to himself knowing that what broke me the most was that Tom had never shown up? Tim keeping it to himself is just—so selfish.”

Emma bit her lip. “He’s still in love with you.”

Y/N remained quiet.

“I mean, you can’t blame him,” Emma said. “You guys were… I mean before Tom, you really seemed to be hitting it off, I thought you’d end up dating again.”

“I did, too, at some point,” y/n admitted. “But-”

“But you love Tom, I know,” Emma shrugged. “No but… Y/N you also, have to acknowledge it, you can’t keep playing with Tim which-before you say anything, I mean it’s also on him, he knew it, but then again, I… I believed it at some point y/n, that you were going to get back together with him because… The way you looked at him just… and it was just—”

“I know, I know and I thought… I don’t know, okay?” y/n admitted as she sat up. “I… It’s cause I never… I had closure with Tim, alright? I gave him the ring back because I thought, I know it, I want Tom, okay? It’s Tom, yes, it’s Tom.”

“But?”

Y/n sighed, “Timmy—alright as I said before, I had said I would never love again after the whole Rome thing,” she cleared up. “And then Tim came along and just showed me this beautiful life and taught me how to love again, and I—He became a very special part of me.”

“Yeah, and? That doesn’t explain your flirting.”

“I didn’t—flirt.”

“Well you answered to his flirting,” Emma pointed out.

“We were—“

“You guys were flirting y/n!” Emma replied quickly, slightly stressed. “You guys don’t flirt like everyone else! Your flirting style with each other was by showing each other songs and him watering your plants, y/n! You were basically having sex with each other,” Emma rolled her eyes.

Y/N stayed quiet.

“But I know, Tom, Tom—“

Y/n gulped. “Yeah, Tom.”

Emma watched y/n, confused. “Why are you acting like it’s the last time?”

“What?”

“Like it’s your last chance with Tom.”

“I...don’t know, because what if it is, you know? It’s… stupid, we’ve had plenty of chances and… Last time, I just… Had I known it would lead to that. I know it’s my fault, and like we’ve both blown it up so it’s—“

“Neither one of you will fuck up.”

“I know—But Tom… We are trying and I’m happy but I feel-”

“Y/N you are pretending, I know, you won’t be happy until you talk about it with him.”

She sighed. “I know, and we’ve been talking and I…” She coughed. “I really want to try it out.”

“But…?”

“Am I allowed to forgive something like that? Am I even allowed to get angry about Cherry?”

Emma sat up as well. “Y/N, had he slept with anyone else I wouldn’t be so sure but that’s your cousin, that’s fucked up and-”

“What if he finds out about Tim?”

Y/N grabbed the pillow that had once been under her head and proceeded to get it in her face and scream into it.

“Wait, I’m… I’m gonna try that,” Emma laughed, doing the same.

Both of them were screaming into the pillows, pitying their sorrows and problems.

Timmy had walked in.

“What the hell?” He asked.

Emma was the only one to peak her head out of it. “It’s therapeutic.”

Timothee had only chuckled. “I bet.”

Y/N had stopped screaming but kept the pillow over her face. She didn’t know how she felt about Tim, there was no point in being angry at something from the past, but it did change a lot of the way she saw him, maybe he had forgotten. But Tim was never one to forget, he was observant and he was quiet, and he was all about the stories.

“Um, y/n?” Tim said.

Emma watched Tim, and the small object he had in his hand. She shot him a warning glare, scared of the inside.

“Yeah?” y/n answered from her pillow which now had a nice stain of makeup on it.

“Can I talk to you?” He asked.

Another person wanting to talk, what was it with everybody wanting to say words and listening and whatever? Y/N thought to herself.

Though Timmy hadn’t asked for it yet, she knew it, but he hadn’t really said it, not the whole y/n we should talk.

She wanted to say no, but she knew that she couldn’t keep doing that. Counting the days until it finally had to blow up, and then end up with bruises, no, she didn’t have to do that.

She finally let the pillow down, “Yeah, sure,” she said before walking out of her room.

“Sure, leave Emma behind,” Emma pointed out.

“I… well,” Y/N looked at Tim.

“It’ll be quick, darling, Emma dear,” Tim assured her.

Emma rolled her eyes. “It never is with you both.”

Tim rolled his eyes before leading the way outside of the apartment, y/n frowned, asking him to wait up so she could put on her sneakers, still wearing her pj’s.

“So your birthday is tomorrow,” Tim had said as they had walked out, he had sat on the stairs.

She chuckled as she sat beside him. “Yeah.”

“You look really pretty,” Tim had said.

“These pj’s really accentuate my features huh,” y/n joked.

“Your makeup looks pretty and hair, idiot,” Tim chuckled.

She only gave him a sad smile.

“So, what are your plans?” He asked.

“For… tonight? I’ve got a date,” she explained.

“No, tomorrow.”

She shrugged. “Tom’s got some plans, apparently, he hasn’t told me anything about it, honestly I don’t… I don’t want to…”

“What?”

“Do anything you know? I will be too tired after filming, and I… I just feel like… Dunno, James and Clark will be there and I don’t want to talk to James still, and apparently Cherry invited herself, too so… And you’ll be there, and Harry and Emma… and Josh, and I just... ” She chuckled. “I’ve got a bad feeling.”

“Why?”

“Dunno, seems like a perfect combination for disaster.”

“I met Cherry today,” he admitted. “Well, we’d met before but-Yeah, I thought you’d be at the flower shop. “And she was there, instead.”

Y/N scrunched her nose. “Yeah I know she’s there, that’s why I haven’t gone there,” she explained chuckling shyly.

“Why?”

“Because then I’ll start feeling insignificant, because let’s face it and don’t you dare say no, but she’s really… Pretty, like she’s everything a girl would want to be and I’m jealous of her,” she admitted, truthfully. “I’ve never been the jealous kind but with her, I feel like—Of course anyone would choose her over me, and don’t—Say anything okay? I just feel that way. And if I see her I’ll be reminded of the elephant in the room waiting to be addressed, and I… If the conversation about you went wrong I don’t want to know how that-”

“About me?”

“Yeah,” she looked down. “Dunno.”

Tim bit his lip.

“How did he-?”

“I don’t want to talk about that, Tim,” she quickly answered. “I can’t blame him for feeling the way he feels and that’s on me, too, I mean… I… really.”

“What?”

She looked down. “I— well, I don’t…know alright? If I feel anxious about Cherry I can only imagine how he feels about you, no, I can’t even imagine it, and look Tim, I—you know you’re very important to me but I’m… I’m dating… Or whatever is going on now, but It’s Tom right now, alright? And I know it’ll be for a long time.”

“I know.”

She looked at him, confused by his statement because it really didn’t feel like he knew it.. “And I don’t… want you to think there is an open door or-”

“Y/N, I know,” he said. “Yeah, I know it’s Tom, now.”

“But it’s not just—“

“I know,” Tim looked away. “I know.”

She looked down. “I’m sorry.”

“Just….” He took a deep breath. “I know it’s him, but that doesn’t… I mean, we’ve been friends, and I—I just ask you not to push me away, alright? I don’t know how I’d live without y/n in my world, and if having you around means having you with him, then I just have to deal with it, move on you know? And I know we are friends, so this is… This comes from your friend, Timmy.”

She smiled, just slightly, very timidly. It hurt, hurting him but of course, keeping him around meant jeopardizing her relationship with Tom, and she really didn’t want to give it more excuses.

“Timmy,” she sighed.

He smiled. “I’m serious, it’s alright, no… no resentment, alright? We both know we… I don’t…you know it, I’ll always love you, but we—I mean you—you love someone else and it’s be stupid of me not letting you love him, that is just pathetically selfish. And don’t get me wrong, it hurts like a bitch…. Yeah, I know it, but… I don’t want to lose you, I am not stupid… but I also… I know that if I give this to you tomorrow, Tom will lose it and I… don’t want that, so I’m giving you this, today.”

He pulled out a film canister. And it felt like one of those times when life likes to punch you with reality. She felt a fear deep inside her stomach. Last time he’d given her one of those an engagement ring was hidden in it.

“It’s… It’s not what you think,” Tim rolled his eyes. “Oh, you really thought I’d propose again?”

She let out a soft chuckle. “No--I… I mean,” I’m-I didn’t think you would-”

“Your face,” He chuckled softly. “Yeah, no, I… I’m…”

“Yeah, just last time you gave me one of those-”

“Yeah, and look where it led us, I’m not… I wouldn’t… No,” Timmy laughed. “No, it’s not… and—do you really think I’m the type of guy to propose on a bad time—-Actually don’t answer that,” he chuckled. “Okay, open it.”

She grinned, and took the film canister from him. “Man I hope it’s an iPad,” she joked, warning a laugh from Tim. “No, you—you shouldn’t have.”

She shook it just slightly, listening to no sound coming out from it, before finally opening, carefully. “A…there’s nothing?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Tim laughed. “I know.”

She frowned, confused but then chuckled. “I love it… I hope I… can get to wear it soon,” she joked.

“It couldn’t fit there, but I—Well, you know, we had that tradition, ,” he said before finally giving her the box that sat beside him.

She took the box and smiled, opening it, an old vintage Polaroid camera stood there.

“I know you’ve—I think it works, it’s—It’s an original, I've noticed you haven't really taken any Polaroids, and I know you love them,” he coughed. “So, yeah, happy birthday.”

Y/N had only looked up, giving him a true smile.

“Thank you, I love it!”

But of course, the timing could not have gone any worse. Tom had arrived. Y/N had momentarily forgotten she had agreed to spend the night with him, nothing too serious but Tom had insisted because he had a surprise for early in the morning and he’d come pick her up for dinner and then she’d stay with him.

Maybe she should’ve seen the trouble coming.

Tom cleared his throat loudly, “hello,” he said, standing with sunflowers. Yellow flowers with pretty meaning, y/n thought.

Y/n looked up, calmly, knowing that if he saw any hint of her freaking out it would blow it up because his mind would go places.

“Oh hi!” She grinned. “sorry—I’m not—“

Tom clenched his jaw at Tim, but then turned to y/n and chuckled, “Darling, when I said casual—I didn’t—“

She chuckled nervously standing up. “Sorry, I—“she squeezed her eyes shut. “I was discussing with Tim something about some pictures he’s planning on—yeah,” she lied, as she hid the film canister and box behind her back.

“Yeah,” Tim said, clearing his throat, standing up as well. “Hello, Thomas.”

“Tim.” Tom was nervous already, y/n could tell.

“Are those for me?” Y/n questioned staring at the flowers before they could say another word to each other.

Tom chuckled between his teeth, “yeah, they’re most certainly not for Tim.”

“Oh,” Tim said, “and here I was getting excited about them.”

Tom faked a very quiet laugh and then turned to y/n. “So? Don’t get me wrong, you literally look so beautiful—but—“ He smiled looking down at her clothing.

“Yeah—right!” She excused herself, not forgetting to kiss his cheek, before running back to her room, where Emma was waiting with the red dress and had pulled out some heels for her.

Emma walked out of the room, “hello, Tom, long time no see,” she said with sarcasm.

“I know, these couple hours have been long,” Tom joked back, as he had walked in.

Tim had followed after. It felt so tense, Emma could swear she could cut the tension with a knife.

Emma hummed a fake laugh. “There are flower vases over there, you can guess which ones are y/n’s now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna steal Tim from you just a bit, I hope you don’t miss him as much.”

Emma had dragged Tim to her own room.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Emma snapped.

“A lot of things,” Tim answered. “But let’s not go there, please.”

“Oh don’t play that with me, I know exactly what you’re doing, and Tim—“

“I’m not—“

“Don’t fucking pull the whole I’m not doing anything bullshit with me,” she rolled her eyes. “I know exactly what you’re doing, and I’m sure you gave her the Polaroid today, really? Exactly when you know she’ll go on a date with Tom? And you take her to the stairs? So he can see it right?

Tim clenched his jaw. “I—Well.”

“Sabotaging her relationship is not the way to go, Tim,” Emma warned him. “And I—I just told you—Best thing you could try is...move on, alright? I know you love her and that she was—She seemed perfect for you, and I still think you guys worked so well together but… She is so in love with him, and by doing this you’re only hurting her more—Besides, really Tim, you know her better than this,” she pushed. “I—“ Emma sighed. “I'm telling you this because I love you, I don’t want to sound harsh but—“She closed her eyes. “I know she is confused, and making her even more confused won’t help you, let her settle it, let her have it right now.”

Tim didn’t say anything and just walked out of the room. He had gone to his room and unfortunately had left his door open to see y/n walking out on a red dress to run over excitedly to Tom, who had pulled her close to him to kiss her cheek and smell her perfume.

Timmy knew Emma was right, y/n was in love with him. So, very deeply in love. And it hurt, seeing her. And Timmy asked for more patience, or for more time, or strength to move on.

It felt weird, Tim felt lonely and broken hearted, and he just missed her, and it was stupidly incredible that she lived right there in the same apartment. He knew she loved Tom, that was it but it…. It still didn’t make any sense. Honestly, it felt like they were completely strangers.

Especially y/n, she really felt like a stranger, even to Tom it seemed. She seemed too… distant to everyone.

Tom felt it, too. He felt that y/n was just off, even if she was happy or tried to be and even if she was kissing his cheek, she was being… different. And Tom only wanted to get over with it, the awkwardness.

And he wondered if she wanted to get over with it, too.

They went out for dinner, not in the place where she’d imagine Tom would take her, it was a nice dinner place with lightbulbs hanging around, a flower in a glass bottle, candles around, very… cozy, and romantic, and they were talking about barely anything, and maybe for a bit it felt like they were each other again.

Y/N knew this, she felt weird with herself, as if even when she seemed to be saying what she wanted to say, she really wasn’t saying what her heart wanted, but as if her own heart was keeping secrets. It felt like Tom didn’t know her, though. And it had never felt that way before, but it felt like they were both trying to get to know each other again. Because neither of them were being themselves, not entirely.

“So, you were clearly not talking about pictures with Tim,” Tom had mentioned.

y/n looked at him and nodded. “Yeah, I wasn’t….”

“So?” Tom seemed anxious about it.

“He gave me a birthday present, a…he gave me a polaroid,” she cleared up. “A vintage, original one.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” Tom nodded, and gulped. “As long as he doesn’t give you a ring.”

She rolled her eyes. “Tom.”

Tom shrugged.

“I… told him,” she cleared her throat. “That well… it’s you.”

“It’s me?” Tom wondered, and a smile came to his face. “What am I?”

She rolled her eyes, chuckling softly. “An idiot, that’s what you are.”

Tom chuckled. “Uh-huh, I am, and what else?”

She blushed. “Nothing.”

Tom hadn’t pushed it any further. Their conversation kept flowing. Talking about them. What made them so… them.

“I remember that everyone was in love with this one guy, ugh, what’s his name? The one that bullied you,” Y/N tried to recall.

“Edward,” Tom remembered. “He was so big.”

“Well, everyone had a crush except me, because well, I was the idiot, you know?”

“You loved that scrawny guy who-”

“Adorable guy,” she added.

“Scrawny guy,” he continued. “Who did ballet and everyone crushed on Edward, who-”

“I actually was… dating Louis back then,” she recalled. “But…” She chuckled. “But my point is… I was the one who… hid a rat in his car.”

“No way!” Tom’s eyes popped as he leaned over. “You’re kidding.”

“I… Look, nobody could be an asshole to you unless it was me, that was-” She was nervous. “I was so angry at everything he said at you, I…” She rolled her eyes. “And I… genuinely don’t know.”

“Where in this bloody world did you get a rat from?” He wondered. “I mean thank you but I didn’t think you’d-”

“Please I had experience from pranks for you so of course…” She gulped, hiding a laugh. “I...Well, there was a rat in Louis' house, and well they trapped it and instead of… you know killing it I… well told Louis to break into Ed’s car and I hid the rat there.”

Tom was shocked. “And that was because of me?”

“No, I hated Ed,” she looked away. “He was the biggest asshole.”

Tom grinned. “Are you sure? Because I remember that rat incident being right after he had hit me in the hall.”

“Really?” y/n coughed. “I wouldn’t remember,” she blushed looking away.

“Which actually brought attention to me, they said it had been me!” He recalled. “I got into detention.”

Y/N grinned. “Yeah, killed two birds in one shot,” she smirked.

“I’m serious did you-?”

“Yeah, maybe I did it for you, okay? Whatever, yes, I had feelings for you and I was angry someone else was taking away my job, let’s remember we were enemies back then, alright?” She was nervous.

Tom smirked. “You had a crush on me.”

“Shut up,” she chuckled. “You had a crush on me, too.”

Tom shrugged, smiling. “Yeah, I did. I’m not trying to hide it.

Y/N avoided his gaze, not believing he was actually making her feel butterflies, even after all this time, she was still nervous. In a good way. She wasn’t always nervous, most of the time, she didn’t, she felt so calm around him, but on the edge, as if she didn’t need to worry about being herself but expectant of each other’s attitude.

Tom watched her, “Why do I always feel like there’s always something on your mind?”

“Because there is,” she laughed. “Don’t you?”

“No, I’m dumb, remember? I can actually blank up my mind,” he smirked. “Or well, not at all. There is a constant on my mind,” he had reached for her hand.

“Oh?” her eyes had brightened up, a timid smile on her face.

“Yeah, Spiderman,” he joked, earning a glare from y/n.

It was so stupid. But they were… back being them. Probably because they were alone. As if someone was brushing y/n’s dream, and she couldn’t get enough of him, his laugh was her everything. She couldn’t help but sigh and run out of breath, and never stop blushing, there was no doubt about it. And she had once thought about it, ‘the day that Tom loves me, the world will party’. She had been wrong, the world wasn’t partying, and there were no flowers blooming and no fireworks. The world instead, stopped, as if it was them and only them. The stars were probably jealous of them seeing them shining even more brightly than them.

“You know, from the moment we met,” he had said.

“When we were kids, you mean?” She chuckled .

“Truly met,” Tom gulped. “Rome, I mean.”

She blinked. “Yeah.”

“I… Why didn’t you kiss me?” He asked.

“Hm? When?”

“That one night, you know the one, lovely evening, I remember I asked for a kiss,” he recalled. “And… you said and I quote: ‘No, Thomas, don’t ask for a kiss’.”

She looked away, remembering. “Because I didn’t want you to ask for it.”

He frowned.

“It’s silly but that’s the way I am, I didn’t want you to ask for it, I was clearly begging for one,” she explained. “I wanted you to… do it. One should never ask for a kiss, or not… verbally.”

“How so?”

“I mean certain contexts,” y/n said. “But that night? I thought I had hinted it enough

“So you did want me to kiss you,” He grinned.

“Of course!” She beamed. “I—it’s not secret by now that I—“she cleared her throat. “Well, enjoy when our lips come together.”

“Oh, so you enjoy that?” He mocked.

“Very much so,” she answered shyly. “And—it had been the perfect evening! It would’ve cost you nothing,” she smiled.

“Cost me nothing,” he laughed.

“I think you’ll find that kissing me is quite cheap,” she pointed out.

He scrunched his nose. “That’s a lie.”

“No, no, I was the one who could lose there,” she sighed.

“No, y/n. Because kissing you costs a lifetime.”

She scoffed. “How so?”

“I kissed you once when I was 13 and never stopped thinking about it,” he said. “And after that evening.”

“Would I have been so bad?” She questioned, “if we had realized it back then.”

“Think we did,” he said, “but you didn’t kiss me either.”

“No, but—because you had asked for it.”

“You’re right… I should’ve, but there’s a lot of things I should’ve done...still can’t believe it, how stupid I was,” he said.

“It didn’t click you know,” she nodded. “When you broke my heart,” she continued. “I mean, the excuses you gave me… They didn’t make any sense.”

Tom looked down.

“And…” She sighed.

“Would you’ve forgiven me? If I had come earlier?” He asked.

She stared at him. “Maybe,” she admitted. “Probably, if I’m honest… I did wait for you to come again with yellow flowers, and I’d have my hand right in my heart, and I would wait for you to come and apologize and I would see it, you know, wait for you to stand up in the rain and said you didn’t mean it, and I… I was angry, alright? It was stupid letting my life pass by waiting for it besides the whole scenario...but then again, it wa shot and it’s still you and I’m—it’s silly.”

“It’s not silly,” Tom said. “It’s you,” he took a deep breath, “and I knew you’d like that… kind of stuff, but when I finally realized it, it was too late.”

“But it’s not late now,” she admitted. “We’re finally on time. And I’m glad I’ve always been so stubborn when it comes to you because otherwise we wouldn’t be here.”

The evening had continued to flow, as both of them had become quieter, in a way that they didn’t need to talk to communicate, between whispers and giggles and hand brushing, it was all they needed.

The ticking had stopped, y/n had noticed. It’d come, she knew but… God, when she was with him, she didn’t have to worry about anything. Because it seemed that it was made for them, all her doubts disappeared because he was the answer she needed. It was them against the world.

They hadn’t talked about Valerie and William, not that night. It was Tom and y/n,.

They hadn’t kissed. Tom had ceased the kissing when James had arrived, which y/n hated, she missed his lips so much her own were begging for them. She wouldn’t ask for it. Never ask for a kiss, not out loud.

She was wearing his jacket back on their way, he had said: ‘I wasn’t cold but I knew you’d be so that’s why I brought it’. Her hand was on his hair as he drove, listening to music, windows down as they hummed the lyrics, and as y/n stared down at the lights the city was giving her, her hair flying.

She was sad, though, Tom hadn’t even tried to lean over and kiss her, not even seeing a hint of him trying to do so.

They had walked in, the guys seemed to be all too invested in a video game, all except for Clark who was rather interested in playing with James’ hair as y/n’s brother yelled at the screen. He looked up when seeing them walk in, he smiled at the sight of y/n’s shoulders being covered by Tom’s jacket.

“Hello, you two,” Clark had greeted them.

Tom peeked to see the screen, not letting go of y/n’s hand.

“Hi,” y/n said, knowing she’d most likely lose Tom’s attention to the screen.

“How did it go?” Clark asked.

“Bloody hell, Samuel!” James yelled.

“Piss off,” Harry yelled, too.

y/n chuckled. “It went well,” she said.

“Well?” Tom lost focus of the screen, as he turned to her. “Well?”

She ignored him and kept staring at Clark. “Can you believe the evening has gone by so splendidly but he still hasn’t kissed me?”

Tom immediately blushed.

“Good,” said James. “Kissing is gross.”

“Is it?” Clark asked before kissing his cheek.

James coughed. “Straight kissing is gross,” he corrected himself.

Harry laughed.

Sam scrunched his nose. “Why haven’t you kissed her? you usually bloody eat each other’s faces.”

Harry scoffed.

“Don’t you dare eat my sister’s face,” James warned. “Or anything for that matter.”

“James,” y/n closed her eyes.

Tom laughed. “We’re gonna…”

“No, why don’t you guys stay? We were about to play Mario Kart” Offered James. “So why don’t you both play with all of us, you know you can sit over there with your brother and y/n can sit over here, everyone’s happy.”

“Jamey, love, don’t be a dick,” warned Clark.

Y/N chuckled. “Fine, I want to play,” she admitted.

“Great, mario kart is the real deal breaker between couples.”

Of course, they hadn’t followed James’ instruction for their sitting arrangement, y/n had sat on the couch, and Tom had sat on the floor, resting his back against her. Y/N was still bothered by the fact she hadn’t yet been kissed that night, but she soon forgot it as it felt like one of those nights when they were younger, all of them playing and yelling at each other.

Tom had left the room without any explanation at some point, but she was too busy trying to beat her brother at rainbow road to even notice.

Time went by, and before she knew it, the lights had gone off, and they all had turned with a smirk as Tom had walked in with a cake with candles.

‘Happy Birthday’ they all sang as she stared at the cake, pretty cake, sunflowers again. Tom kissing her cheek.

It felt… like years ago, the Holland’s, James, and now Clark, too, of course it was Tom holding the cake now, not Harry, and now she didn’t have a wish, usually she’d plan ahead her birthday wishes, because that’s something James had taught her to. Instead, she wished for everything to keep flowing as easy as it could with Tom. Funny, how many birthday wishes had not involved him already.

They had sat and ate cake like old times, y/n smearing some frosting to Tom’s cheek and then kissing it off, making the boy blush and getting James to glare at her. Laughing at each other, telling old jokes as y/n was laying against Tom, his arms around her and his lips brushing against her head.

How many years had they not wasted by being enemies.

Eventually, they had all gone to bed knowing the next day would expect them, except for Clark and James who had stayed in the kitchen.

Tom and y/n had stayed on the couch.

“So, I’m gonna be honest,” Tom had said as he had sat with her, he had left yet again to get something

She only stared into his eyes, begging her with her sight to kiss her already. She should’ve probably wished for that, instead.

“I—this wasn’t going to be your birthday present.”

“You didn’t need to get me anything,” she said.

He had sat up and pulled out a small box, he seemed nervous, but excited. The box… gave her shivers. But it couldn’t be.

Y/n only smiled watching him, resenting her head against her palm.

“I—back when,” he gulped, “back when I was still in London debating whether or not to direct dos-a-dos,” he continued. “I—well.”

“Yeah?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you because—Well,” he grinned. “I am so stupidly in love with you.”

She only blushed.

“So—one day,” he gulped. “I went—Well, you know, to the mall and whatsoever, and—I saw this shop.”

“Right.”

“And so I bought a pair of boots for me,” he said, leaning against the couch, trying to recall. “They were very—nice, you know?”

“Uh—huh,” she rolled her eyes. “And did you bring those boots to LA?”

“No, I didn’t,” he side eyed her, “should’ve, you would have loved them.”

Y/n rolled her eyes giggling. “I bet.”

“But anyway, after I bought the boots—I passed by that shop you like.”

Y/n blinked. “Care to be more specific?”

“The one with the vinyls, and vintage stuff,” he reminded her, but she looked down at the tiny box he was holding, it definitely wasn’t anything from that shop.

“Oh, yeah, love that place,” she smiled.

“Yeah, and I—went in,” he admitted. “And I couldn’t stop thinking about you, everything they had… so I—“

She just waited for him to continue.

“I bought a fee vinyls for me, too,” he nodded seriously.

Y/n bit her lip, holding back a laugh, “amazing, which ones did you buy?”

“I bought a Beatles one… uh, Queen.”

“Great choices,” she grinned. “I’m proud.”

“And of course Rolling Stones, because I thought of you,” he said.

Y/n scooted closer to him to gently run her hands through his hair, he couldn’t hide his smile.

“And then—One day, I went out again,” he grinned.

“Hm-hm?”

He coughed, “yeah, and I walked again to that one other shop you like, the one with the clothes.”

“With the clothes,” she laughed.

“Yeah, you know the one,” he chuckled, avoiding her gaze.

“And did you get in?” She asked.

“No,” he grinned. “I went for an ice cream, you know, I was really craving one.”

She stared at him, so mesmerized by him, even when he was being the silliest. “God, I love you,” she blurted out, without really thinking of it. That’s how it should be, realy. Nothing wrong with that.

He finally locked his eyes with her and smiled, he took her hand in his and kissed it. “Yeah, so—“he grinned, “none of that has to do with your birthday present.”

Y/n chuckled. “Really? I thought the birthday present would be seeing you with those boots and dancing with you to the music on those vinyls and eating ice cream.”

“Ah, that would’ve been great huh,” he grinned staring into her eyes.

“Would’ve loved that.”

“I actually did bring the vinyls,” he admitted.

She kissed his temple. “Great, let’s play them—“

“Yeah, but—I haven’t finished,” he admitted. “I… Well, I've had a lot of time, you know? To reflect on—on the script, on us. But especially the script.”

Y/n stared at the features on his face, fixating on the freckles on his nose as he kept talking.

“So, I kept avoiding the script, even if I wanted to direct it because—Well, it was your dream, I remember and I think I’ll never forget how in Rome you told me your biggest dream was making a film of a ballerina,” he said. “I—well, and I wanted to read it, but I couldn’t because I thought—well, dunno, having something yet to read was something I still had to look forward to, you know? And so I kept listening to the vinyls because they reminded me of you, and I kept—trying to find you everywhere, alright?” He confessed. “On every single face and—The days just went by and I—eventually read it.”

Y/n silently watched him.

“And I fell in love with it, because—it’s you. The script is so—you, it was like reading an open book about you, and I don’t mean it in the way that it’s our story, like I genuinely—you really poured heart and soul in it, the songs you put in, the setting—and, well, it was really you, you know? I know you’ve always loved 80’s movies because they seem so ridiculous but so magical.“

Y/n chuckled nervously. “Where are you going with this?”

“I know it’s your biggest dream,” he sentenced. “And well—I’m sorry I didn’t get you a pair of boots like mine.”

She laughed rolling her eyes.

“And I didn’t get a vinyl.”

“Tommy,” she nudged him.

He only handed it to her, the small box. A very stupid and scary suspicion in her head had completely been erased as she picked the small box.

As she opened it, it revealed a necklace with a small pendant of a ballerina hanging from it. The brightest beam had appeared on y/n’s face.

“I know you’ve—never liked the idea of someone giving you jewelry, especially bracelets or necklace because they don’t hold any meaning, but—I think—I know you’re not a dancer but, I think Valerie is your own special project, and—“Tom grinned. “I was saving it to give it to you on the premier but—“

“I love it, I...No, really this… This is perfect,” she whispered looking at it. Tom had once taught her that roses weren’t always basic. And Tom had now proven to her that this didn’t have to be either, because it was them, and it held such a special meaning to her.

She leaned over to kiss his cheek, and he only smiled.

“I was gonna give you a T—“

“As in Troy?” She mocked.

“That’s exactly why I didn’t.”

She laughed. “I love it.”

He looked deep into her eyes and she just waited for it… But he didn’t kiss her.

“Yeah, so, let’s go to sleep,” he quickly stood up, letting her fall flat on the couch.

“Thomas,” she hissed playfully. He had already left, and she could feel his smirk from afar, so she followed after him.

“So, you can have my bed, I’m gonna leave to sleep on the couch because that was my agreement with James,” he explained, picking up his stuff as soon as she got to the room.

She frowned. “No?”

“Yes,” he replied cockily.

“I’m not letting you leave until you bloody kiss me,” she replied.

He paused and then turned with a proud smug smirk, “Then that gives me even more reasons not to kiss you.”

She opened her mouth to complain, but really she was in such a state of shock that not a single word came out.

“Goodnight love,” he grinned as he headed to the door.

“Why are you like this?” She rolled her eyes, giggling.

Tom took a deep breath before staring her down.

“For the love of god, kiss me.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“One shall never ask for a kiss,” he replied smugly.

“Are you kidding me?” She closed her eyes, not believing it.

“No, you said it yourself,” he grinned. “Not verbally.”

“Just shut up and come here, idiot,” she laughed before pulling him close to her, finally placing her lips on him. It felt like just the very first time, Tom and her had that magic, of making each and every kiss feel like they’ve never kissed before, so unique and so perfectly synchronized with each other.

“Don’t you guys fucking dare to do anything,” James was just walking by with a glass of water. “People need to sleep.”

Clark had mouthed an apology before following after.

Y/n had pulled away and then smirked. “Want to prank him?”

Tom had only given her a weird face.

Y/N knew James was staying right on the next room, and that she definitely was not going to be able to do anything without him hearing, that of course, meant she could piss him off, to get back at him for being a dick.

Y/N explained her idea to Tom, and he immediately accepted, with the sole condition to leave the door open so his life could actually be spared.

Both Tom and y/n had settled in their places, sitting right on top of the bed, right against the headboard which was conveniently against James’ wall.

And so they started.

Both of them repeatedly, and in perfect sync started, Tom hitting his elbows against the headboard, making sure the noise it made was perfectly identifiable as something else as y/n was jumping on the bed.

A faint “no, no, no, no, fucking hell, no,” had been yelled from the other room.

Tom and y/n tried to hide in their laughter, but proceeded to make it even worse, adding dramatic moans and “oh yes!” “Y/n!” “Right there!” “Tommy!” In between.

“NO FUCKING WAY!” Now it had been louder.

“Jamey, love—“

Tom and y/n smirked and went in even louder, “yes!” “So tight!” “Harder!” “Yes, yes, yes, yes!”

“No! No! No! No! Bloody hell y/n I’m in the bloody next room!” James yelled. “I’m gonna kill you, Thomas!”

And then they heard the loud and quick stumping as James’ door was open as he ran to knock on y/n’s and Tom’s door, but instead, the door was wide open and he could see what actually was happening, Tom and y/n, fully clothed and not even an inch close.

That’s when both y/n and Tom lost it, bursting into laughter.

“YOU GUYS FUCKING SUCK!” James yelled at them before joining in their laughter, red from embarrassment.

Clark had followed right after, laughing with them. “So that—“

Y/n couldn’t stop her laughter, even tears had come down her cheek as she stared at her brother so embarrassed, watching them.

“I can’t believe you fell for that!” Y/N had laughed.

Clark couldn’t stop giggling either.

“And by the way, thanks Clark,” Tom laughed, “you’re a real one.”

“I fucking hate you all,” James rolled his eyes.

“Now let’s go for the real one,” Tom had joked, probably with a death wish, but he quickly regretted it, “no, no, no, I’m joking! I’m joking!”

“You bet your ass you’re joking,” James warned before laughing again, defeated, “I hate you both.”

He had left with Clark laughing behind him, leaving y/n and Tom still laughing at their prank.

Laughing and laughing until they ran out of breath and laughed again.

“Shit, I love you so much,” Tom had said with one last breath after laughing.

“I love you, too,” she had said, “that was the best fake sex I’ve had in my life.”

“Hm, I’m pretty sure I’ve given you the best non fake one, too,” he had said cockily.

“Non fake,” she scoffed.

But then they’ve gone back to laughing, eventually somehow it transformed into kissing, and they had spent the night kissing, and giggling and nothing more, probably because they were aware that it was a very risky situation having James right beside and honestly, they were decent but mostly because they didn’t need more. Just the two of them laying down, and merging their lips together, becoming one with the other, was all they needed.

The next day was rather perfect, filming had gone as smoothly as it could go, and though they kept their distance because they were professionals, y/n could tell there was something different about her and Tom. Not sure what but it felt like things could work out. A ray of hope, if one must say.

There had been more cake, more people congratulating her for her birthday and just—Flowers. Sunflowers here and there, Along with blue hydrangeas. Pretty combination. Tom had made sure to fill up the place. She did love the sunflowers. Her mother calling her, auntie Eliza sending her pink carnations, it was—good. Especially after they told everyone about their prank, that made it even better.

“You do have that fake sex aftermath glow,” Emma had joked.

Perfect day, a perfect day until the sun was yawning down, she had put on her best clothes, and she was nervous. Not sure why though.

Tom had invited the cast as well. Nothing could go wrong, and it definitely wasn’t going to, right? Y/N had thought maybe it was a good day after all.

The place had been packed and the first song playing had been Ironic by Alanis Morissette, James had been the first one to point it out, he really liked that song. And though the combination of friends seemed like the perfect recipe for disaster, y/n thought it had gone calmly. At least at the beginning.

The club seemed to be picked out of y/n’s dreams, an 80’s and 70’s paradise playing the songs she loved to sing along to. There was a karaoke, too, in the background, separate from the dance floor. Honestly, the place was perfect. Fun.

And y/n had ignored Cherry’s presence as long as she could, she hadn’t been rude, but of course she’d been avoiding her, because the moment she saw her, y/n did feel insecure. She had shown up with a tight dress that gave nothing to the imagination, and her hair perfectly falling down her shoulders, her whole body shimmered. She was beautiful, beyond compare, perfect.

“Y/N!” She had greeted her. “I’m so glad I see you, I love your dress, hun, happy birthday!”

Her high pitched tone had only made y/n even more insecure. And y/n had seen her dancing, she’d caught Josh’s attention, it had seemed. Even Asa’s and Gregg’s attention. Because of course she would, the girl was perfect.

“Is Tim your boyfriend?” Cherry had asked y/n.

“What?” Y/N didn’t know if she’d heard right. “No… No, he’s not.”

“Oh, I thought he was!”

“Happy birthday!” Someone had yelled as they popped off a bottle.

Y/N could take care of Cherry later, who was actually picking out mostly everyone’s attention.

“Who is she?” Josh had asked her. “If it weren’t for Emma, I’d say she’s the prettiest girl in the world.”

There was a lot to unpack from Josh’ statement.

“That’s my cousin,” she explained. “She’s single, so why don’t you give it a go?” Y/N had suggested, knowing perfectly that if he did, she’d take away another problem. Because she’d seen Harry anxious the moment Josh had showed up.

Y/N didn’t know why she felt like Harry did know about Josh, she wasn’t sure but the same face Harry was giving Josh was the face Y/N gave to Cherry.

Initially, she had seen Cherry approach Tom, she had whispered something in his ear, and he had only gulped before walking off to one of his brothers. It made y/n anxious.

“You know what? You should go and sing Jolene,” Emma suggested, y/n could tell that Emma probably was slightly dizzy, as she had dragged her, Clark and Auli’i to the dance floor, a...very strange combination. Y/N was just a bit bothered by this, since she wanted to be with Tom, or rather, she wanted to pull him away from where Cherry was.

“Jolene?” Auli’i laughed. Felt rather weird for y/n hanging out with celebrities. Tom didn’t count… Not in that way, at least.

“Yes, Jolene,” Emma said. “I’m begging you please don’t take my man!”

“Your man?” Auli’i had asked. “As in Tom?”

Y/N chuckled. “Uh...Well….er.”

“Please, you’re dating, right?” She laughed.

Y/N didn’t answer.

“Please, it’s kind of obvious,” Auli’i explained. “You guys have tried to be subtle but we all know it.”

Well, there goes their attempt at trying to be professional. It didn’t matter, honestly. But it did bother her knowing that Cherry was the only girl in there, but thankfully, her own brother had kept Cherry occupied, thank god.

Y/N was also bothered by the fact Tom wasn’t by her side, just slightly bothered. She guessed, however, that he was having fun with his brothers. She wondered where Timmy was, because all she could see was the guys, and Cherry, at the table getting their asses drunk.

Especially Timmy.

Emma had dragged them back to the place, y/n had tried to get close to Tom, who had also tried to pull her close to him, but somehow she had been dragged away again. It was annoying, and the night kept going like that. She hadn’t had one single minute with Tom, and it was bothering her. Tom, too, it seemed.

Tom was very bothered by the fact that y/n kept being pulled by her friends, not that they were doing it to specifically bother him, but it was… annoying. Also, having Cherry around, was not a perfect situation, especially because she was insisting on talking to him. What in this world was she trying to do?

He didn’t want to deal with that, he only wanted to have fun. Besides, a club with loud music was definitely not the place to talk. Not on his… girlfriend’s? Birthday celebration.

The night was getting blurry, to him, to everyone. Half past twelve, it was getting darker, and the drinks had come and gone, drink after drink. Everyone seemed to be having a very good time, and he wasn’t sure but the lights on the club had probably lowered, flashes green and yellow were blinding him. The group was constantly divided, and he had had only a small chance to dance with y/n. The music was buzzing too loud, as he escaped through the crowds, trying to find y/n, and he saw her, dancing with everyone and then, Timmy had dragged her close to him, she didn’t even notice as she danced and sang along to the… 70’s, yeah 70’s song playing. Tom feared it, because it’s not difficult to know when someone wants to kiss the person you’re in love with. Tim was drunk, Tom knew this, and the look in his eyes was saying everything. And though he didn’t see that look on y/n, he feared it.

Tom quickly had pulled her by the hand and finally wrapped his arms around her so they could dance.

Tim had only rolled his eyes but kept dancing with Emma.

“Hi!” y/n had cheered as soon as she saw Tom.

“Hey!”

“Where have you been?” She asked, leaning to his ear.

“Here and there,” he admitted, she only giggled to lean over to kiss him.

Everything was going too quickly, the lights and music were not helping. They had barely danced before Emma had dragged y/n.

“I’m sorry, Tom, but it’s y/n’s and I turn to go to the karaoke!” Emma had said before getting her away.

“You were getting too comfortable,” Tom had barked at Tim.

“Pff,” Tim had scoffed. “You’re scared it’ll happen again?”

“What?” Tom frowned. “I’m-- she’s with me.”

“Yet she slept with me just before you arrived,” Tim had blurted.

Tom had felt the music getting louder, and louder, just as Tim had left and Tom was sunk into the dancing crowd.

He didn’t have to believe him… right?

In the state of shock, he only tried to follow after where Emma and y/n were heading.The karaoke music was playing, Emma had chosen ‘Gimme, Gimme, Gimme (A Man after midnight!)’ for her and y/n to sing, and they had started, happily singing as she was so unaware of what Tom was feeling right now. Not sure if it was anger, disappointment, jealousy, or all at once.

The group had followed after them, too, as they were expectant to see the birthday girl, first receiving a very flattering shot of… Tom thought it was probably vodka as soon as she got to the stage. Emma and her sang and yelled, and the group danced and danced. Emma being such a crowd pleaser, yelling and making them cheer.

Tom couldn't.

Is there a man out there? Someone to hear my prayers…

There was no sight of Tim, that was alright, he guessed. But then it… Tom’s mind went to every single time he’d seen her around Tim. It was so fucking obvious, of course they had slept together, and y/n probably still had feelings for him.

Tom was the only one who wasn’t dancing.

Emma had jumped off the stage to land on Josh, and then without even thinking about it, she had kissed him, right in front of Harry.

Sam and Clark had joined y/n on the stage, everyone was just too bloody drunk, and the song seemed to be never ending. Or maybe Tom hadn’t noticed when it had changed, it sounded like another ABBA song. And it was… ‘Voulez-Vous’. Now it was Y/N, Sam and Clark.

Tom didn’t even realize when Cherry was around him, and it probably was the alcohol working out but he danced with her. Not sure why.

Y/N saw it, right from the stage, but luckily Clark had been kind enough to dance with her as someone else had hopped to the stage to sing with them, now that y/n was definitely not able to sing.

And just as the song was ending, and as the next group of girls had popped on the stage, she saw it, perfectly happening, Cherry’s lips were on Tom’s.

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spookyspaghettisundae · 2 years

Text

Daylight Awaits

The headaches stopped, thanks to medication I found in an abandoned home. The fog has also finally cleared, but I find myself always waking up at night.

For no apparent reason.

It is eerily quiet out here. Except for the sounds coming from inside the fishing shop two doors down.

The creatures don't come this far out from town.

My fear is slowly fading, making way to melancholy. Having given the good doctor his walkie-talkie back, I am cut off from everybody else. I hope they're doing alright.

I hope Marla is not lonely, and I yearn for the party she wants to throw for us. I hope Angela is healing, wherever she is. I hope Mister Ishida is recovering from his traumatic experiences, and I hope Tyler has found safety with him and the others. I hope Eliza and Rob are also out there, unharmed. I hope Chris isn't hurt or angry at me.

I would like to visit Chris and Marla both, but I'm afraid that if I leave Doc alone, something terrible might happen to him.

He does not fear the soldiers. He fears the spirits. He is a haunted man, and the others think he is crazy. I do not, because I believe in ghosts. I believe in the beyond and the afterlife. I pray to God that I will never be as haunted by my memories as he is, but my time out here with him in his self-imposed exile leaves me to wonder.

I cannot claim to have seen any spirits like he has. But I hear strange sounds through the fog. And ever since arriving to make camp with him, I have been experiencing strange dreams.

Not that my strange dreams mean anything, but I had another tonight.

They are frequent here, and I mistakenly hoped the meds would have a side-effect of blurring any recollection of them to the point of nonexistence. Not that they are bad dreams—they're just intensely vivid and very confusing. I think my subconscious is trying to tell me something.

Reminding me that I'm looking at the edges of a puzzle coming together, while the pieces in the middle are still missing.

That's why I decided to write all of this down. The dreams of the past days, from during the storm and after it. Perhaps they offer clues. If not for myself, then perhaps for you.

The suffocatingly thick fog afforded me some time to light fires without fear of drawing the creatures near. In turn, this afforded me time to sit down and write in my diary.

I dreamt I was at Marla's house, trying to fill my water bottle from a rain collector barrel out back, but sawdust kept getting into it. I asked Chris for help, but he was slowed down by needing crutches to walk, and too far away. Marla told me to stop bothering him and took me on a fishing trip. We drifted onto a placid lake, riding on a small rowboat. I didn't catch any fish, but I pulled a pale dress from the water, and then awoke.

(There was in fact a pale white dress that I found out here, laid out besides the pile of bodies. Did Doc do that?)

In another dream, I dreamt of wandering through a huge, opulent art gallery. All the windows and skylights shattered, one by one. A storm raged in the night outside, and the rain poured in through broken windows, threatening to ruin all paintings. But the paintings were all pieces of a network of streets, and not only was I trying to rescue them from water damage, I started trying to sort them like map fragments. A statue in the central lobby stood tall, watching me as I worked. A marble sculpture of a wolf-headed man holding a stop sign like a staff. The statue moved, turning its head to look at me. It spoke to me, telling me I needed to fear the dark. I refused repeatedly until it raised the stop sign like an axe, and I jolted awake.

(On my journey out to the outskirts, I came across a stop sign that had been bent. Likely by the force of a car crashing into it. I did find a damaged vehicle farther down the road from there.)

In yet another dream, I dreamt of visiting the graves of all my friends—everybody who perished in the night of madness of New Year's Eve. Their grave markers were all inscribed in a foreign tongue, so I tried to make new ones for them. Rabbits were watching me, and I yelled at them to leave me alone. I used a diamond with sharp edges to carve new eulogies into their headstones. In doing so, I kept slipping and cutting my hand as I tried. I felt no pain nor fear, but bled profusely upon the grave soil, and violins began to play. I awoke.

(I have no frame of reference for this other than the sorrow that came in the months after New Year's Eve.)

In the fourth dream, I was sitting in Doc's abandoned warehouse, atop a throne made of loudspeakers. Trees were hanging upside down from the ceilings, and masked people queened me with strange regalia: a mantle of leaves, a loaf of bread, and a crown made of wax. The mantle itched and I complained about it. A tall, horse-headed man was by my side, dressed like a bishop. He told me I needed to embrace my duty. I painted the mantle red with blood, and he handed me keys to an ambulance. I woke up crying, but I was not sad. They were tears of joy.

(I struggle to make any sense of this, and I will say that the real warehouse in which Doc was originally hiding out was far scarier and more unsettling to explore than the one in this dream.)

Anyway, enough of the dreams.

Doc built a trap for intruders who seek to invade the second story of his fishing shop. I hope nobody gets hurt, but I understand why he built the trap. If another soldier comes hunting for him, I suppose it's a wise defense measure to implement.

What he did was tear down the steps leading upstairs, board all windows shut, nail a ladder to the outside wall leading up to a single open window as the only way left to get up in there. If you climb up the ladder and enter, I believe there's a trap door just inside the window there that opens to a dead drop, at the bottom of which is a tiny room in the basement to which he bricked the door shut.

He left a written warning against climbing up into the window, and any good Christian would be wise not to invade the privacy of a man's home. I unintentionally broke his trap when I took down the brick wall in the basement, though. I hadn't known I'd expose his trap like this, as I had to take down the wall in search of the noise.

I think it's static. It's not the television in the basement, because that thing is switched off whenever I hear this noise.

Where even is the power in this building coming from, anyway? I didn't see any generator in the basement, and I don't hear any buzz of electricity anywhere else throughout the building. Though I haven't entered the upstairs, because Doc explicitly warned me of doing so, so perhaps there's a generator wired into the house up there.

I had thought I heard the noise coming from behind the newly bricked wall, so I tore it down with my hammer and crowbar, brick by brick. I have no idea how to fix it, so I left him a written apology and urged him to rebuild it in case any other soldiers show up.

The noise—I heard it outside, too, so I realized it might not even be coming from the shop. The night was so quiet when I went scavenging for something to eat out there, that I heard this noise again and again, clear as day. I put my ear to the ground and heard it again. That is not to say that I heard anything from the ground. All I know is that I can hear it outside now, as well. I've heard it from as far away as from the General Store one night. The windows there were open while I was tidying up the apartment above the store, and I stopped hearing anything once I leaned out a window to listen.

You cannot even hear crickets from the woods.

There is a comfort in the quiet out here. The solitude, the serene edge of the forest, and the gentle flow of river water nearby. The distance from the dead also helps. Even with that noise. The noise doesn't bother me—it fascinates me. I wonder if my dreams have anything to do with its presence.

I need to find another walkie-talkie of my own. Perhaps at the police station—but that's in the middle of town, where most of the zombies walk. No matter how fast and quiet I am, this may be my last run. There is always a possibility of something going wrong. Making a mistake. Taking a turn into a shambling horde, climbing through a window into an infested house, or tripping and falling while they are right behind me.

I've made it longer than I needed to or ever hoped to. Thank you all who ever helped me since New Year's Eve, fellow survivors.

If you find me and I'm no longer myself, please set me free. Then leave my body be, for the zombies to feed. And don't worry about the storm, or the fog, or anything else.

I have prayed all I can, and I pray for everybody still out there. I pray for the living dead and even for the spirits that haunt us. Perhaps I will soon put image to the noise, just like the Doc.

I cannot claim to understand any of it, but I believe God has a plan for all of us. At the very least, He has mercy.

Daylight awaits.

—Submitted by Wratts

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schrijverr · 3 years

Text

'Till Death Do Us Part

Part 13 out of 13

When Alex has to bring Philip to work, he and Thomas discover that they both have something in common: they lost their love. They form an unexpected bond and connection about this that grows into something more.

A medium burn with parental feelings about Philip and flowers.

On AO3.

Ships: Jamilton

Warnings: very very brief mentions of death

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 13: Lesser Celandine Means ‘Joys to Come’

The nine-year-old bounded out before Alex and Thomas through the botanical garden. They had been living together for about three years already and life was treating them right.

Both still worked for Washington, they still argued about small stuff – which they claimed were discussions in good faith and their friends called bickering like a married couple – and Philip was doing well in school.

They had fallen into a routine together that the versions of themselves from five years ago could have never pictured. As much as they started as jagged edges running along each other, they now found themselves puzzle pieces fitting together.

It was early May and one of the first few beautiful days of the month after a lot of rain, so the three had decided to go to the botanical garden nearby.

However, Alex didn’t know that Thomas and Philip were in on a plot together, a plot to do with a little box in Thomas’s pocket.

Philip pointed at a cactus and yelled: “Look, it got spikes!”

“I can see that, kiddo,” Thomas called out to him, “Can it flower?”

After reading the little sign for a moment, Philip pouted and yelled back: “No.”

“That’s a pity,” Thomas said, then called out: “This one here had beautiful peach colored flowers, if you want to see.”

“That’s not peach,” Alex butted in.

“Yes, it is,” Thomas retorted.

“No, it’s obviously orange.”

“What do you think orange looks like?” Thomas sounded more distressed than anything.

If Alex looked again, he could see that it was indeed peach and the lighting had made it appear more orange than it actually was, but now he had taken a stance. So, he said: “Kind of like that, though I will give you that it’s light orange.”

“Peach is pastel orange, you know that right?” Thomas said.

“So, then I’m right and it’s orange,” Alex shrugged.

“No, because there are many shades of orange and this particular one is peach,” Thomas sounded frustrated.

“I don’t know, Tom,” Alex made a great show of observing the peach colored flower, “If I look at it now, it looks more like apricot.”

“Peach is the lighter and pastel version apricot,” Thomas exclaimed, “The difference is literally super small, but I know my colors and this is lighter than apricot, okay. It’s peach.”

Alex grinned at him and the realization dawned, Thomas tiredly stated: “You’re just doing this to fuck with me.”

“You know me so well,” Alex smirked.

From between them, Philip spoke up: “I think it looks pretty.”

“It does,” Alex agreed, before reading the signs and saying: “Oeh, there’s a butterfly greenhouse, we should go.”

Thomas took Philip’s hand and offered Alex his arm: “Lead the way, darlin’.”

In the butterfly greenhouse they marveled at the butterflies fluttering around. Alex looked mostly up, but Thomas and Philip made sure to read each sign, since they had agreed on a certainflower for it to happen.

When they walked past a particular patch of flowers, Thomas got distracted by Alex, who gasped when a butterfly landed on his face. He grinned at Thomas, who snapped a picture. Then Philip elbowed him in the side and pointed at a sign.

They found it.

Philip quietly retreated to the background with the camera, while Thomas squatted and pretended to read the little sign.

He hummed and read: “Lesser Celandine, or Ficaria verna. Classified as a noxious weed, since it flowers before much of the native fauna, establishing dominance over native species.”

Alex stopped looking up and inspected the small yellow flowers. He hummed: “Interesting, what made that flower catch you eye?”

“Well,” Thomas said, here it was, “I happen to know their meaning.”

“Is that so?” Alex asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.

“Yes, they mean ‘joys to come’,” Thomas shifted and reached into his pocket, “And I was wondering if you would want to explore all of the joys in the world with me.”

Gasping Alex looked at him with wide eyes, completely speechless.

“We’ve been through so much together,” Thomas went on, “You gave me so much more than I’d ever thought I’d have. So, Alexander, will you marry me?”

Alex didn’t care that he looked like the ultimate gay stereotype as he fanned his hands in excitement, tears in his eyes as he nodded and chocked out: “Yes!”

Thomas grinned and took out the ring to slip on Alex’s finger. Philip ran up behind him, camera still in hand as he threw his arms around Thomas’s neck, still at the perfect height from where he was knelt and babbled: “You said yes, right, Papa? You and Da are getting married!”

“I did, Pip,” Alex grinned, admiring the simple band with purple stone, “And I suppose you were in on it, little rascal.”

“Of course,” Philip smiled toothily as Thomas stood up, lifting Philip in a piggy back, “Da had to ask someone for your hand.”

“You asked Pip for permission?” Alex laughed.

Thomas shrugged: “Seemed the best option. I felt like he should get a say.”

“And I knew who he could trust,” Philip added.

“Oh yeah?” Alex asked, amused.

“Hm-hm,” Philip nodded.

“Yeah,” Thomas agreed, “It was smart to not involve Laf in this, just Eliza.”

“Dork,” Alex rolled his eyes, but he knew Eliza still had his ring size from when he and her went to find rings for his wedding to John.

“But I’m your dork,” Thomas informed him, “And you’ve just agreed to that being permanent, so I feel like that’s more on you than on me.”

“You’re insufferable,” was Alex’s reply, but they all saw he couldn't stop smiling.

“I know,” Thomas agreed, putting Philip down.

Alex pulled him into a kiss, while Pip made slight gagging noises that they both ignored. When they pulled apart, Alex whispered against his lips: “This was perfect, you’re perfect. Thank you.”

“Charmer.”

“God, I can’t wait to tell everyone!” Alex gushed. He had been the one to ask John, so he never got the excitement of sharing, just the stress of asking. The novelty of this new feeling, making him even more excited about it.

Thomas smiled at him, love filled eyes. Alex didn’t even know how beautiful he looked right now, basked in sunlight with butterflies fluttering around him as his eyes sparkled and his smile tried to break his face in two.

He kissed him.

“What was that for?”

“You’re beautiful.”

“Who’s the charmer now?” Alex teased.

“Da, Da, did you show him your ring?” Philip tugged on Thomas’s hand.

“I hope you don’t mind that I got myself one, I just had an idea,” Thomas shrugged, when he saw Alex’s quirked brow.

“I helped pick!” Philip told him proudly.

“Really?”

“Jup,” Thomas confirmed as he showed him the ring. It was identical to Alex’s, except that the stone was green instead of purple. Thomas said: “You know, those few years ago, I thought it was kind of obvious that we wouldn’t like each other, because purple and green are on other sides of the color spectrum, but I had forgotten how well they go together.”

“Only you’d judge people based on their color pallet,” Alex rolled his eyes, but his voice betrayed how touched he was.

“Do you like them?” Philip asked, eyes shining.

“I love them, Pip,” Alex ruffled his hair.

Thomas offered him his arm and that way Alex could look at his own hand, resting on Thomas’s arm with the ring reflecting the light. As they walked through the rest of the garden, Alex missed most of the flowers by being distracted.

That evening they invited their friends for drinks, when they were all sitting around Eliza spoke up, she had been the one involved, so she knew why this was happening: “So, Alex, any reason for the sudden get together?”

Alex grinned at her: “Well, Betsy, there is actually.”

“Is that so?” Eliza smirked.

“Jup, I got some jewelry today,” Alex told her, holding up his hand to show off the ring.

It was quiet for a second, then everyone seemed to make the connection and there was a wall of noise as everyone congratulated them, asked them how or when, as well as demanded to see the rings.

As Laf held their hands to see and compare the rings, he cried: “These are beautiful, but why wasn’t I told.”

“To be fair, I did think about it, but I was warned against it,” Thomas told him.

“Why!” Laf pouted.

“Because you nearly told John, by bursting out in tears when you saw him,” Eliza cut in, “I had to tell him your pet bird back in France died and he looked like him.”

“Oh, so that’s why he gave me a drawing of a bird,” Laf nodded, then moved on, “Anyway, I have grown, I would have been the perfect wingman in this.”

“I think Philip did a great job,” Thomas disagreed, “Right, kiddo?”

“Yeah, I got it on camera,” Philip said proudly, inviting a new round of chaos as everyone demanded to see.

“Ahw, ‘Lexi, you cried,” Angelica cooed, teasingly.

“I didn’t,” Alex huffed.

Herc looked at the video again and said: “Well, man, it kinda looks like you did.”

“Give me that,” Alex studied it, “No, maybe there was a bit of moist happening, but I feel like that’s more all the pollen in the air. We were in a big garden after all.”

“First of, using moist and grossing everyone out isn’t working,” Peggy said, “Second of, you fucking cried, just admit it.”

“I will agree to teary eyed, but no more,” Alex told her.

“Alright, Mr. Teary Eyed Little Baby Man,” Peggy rolled her eyes.

“Now that’s just plain rude,” Alex pouted.

“No,” James said, from where he had gotten a hold of the recording, “that’s truth, I can see it clearly here in this frame.”

“Gimme,” Lafayette snatched it and snapped a picture of it, “We need to start collecting pictures to show at the wedding.”

“Oh no, you’re all going to be terrible,” Alex whined.

“No, we’re going to be helpful,” Laf corrected.

“I somehow doubt that,” Thomas sided with Alex.

In the end they did have to come back on that. Their friends were absolute champions when it came to wedding planning. Though Thomas and Alex mostly made decisions themselves, the others were all there to give second opinions or double check for them.

They had decided on a late spring/ early summer wedding, so it would take a little less than a year, before they actually got married, but wedding planning took time and Alex took great joy in the word fiance.

Thomas did too, he just didn’t want to admit it.

That summer they arrived in Monticello – as had become tradition – however, instead of the usual greetings, they were met with: “Show us the rings.”

“No, hello, how are you, long time no see, what have you been up to. Of course not, why would they ask about us instead of some shiny pieces of metal,” Thomas grumbled playfully as he and Alex were practically passed around by the family.

Alex just grinned and let them, still amazed by the family he had accumulated.

Thomas had been right back then when he had told Alex that with Ma and Mary on their side everyone was bound to like him too, but Alex had still been nervous each time he met one of Thomas’s siblings. A fear he could now hardly imagine with how comfortable he had gotten in his family, a family he would soon be officially part of.

When he got to Ma, she pulled him into a hug: “I’m so happy for the two of you, son.”

And Alex couldn't do anything, but hug back and say: “Me too, Ma, me too.”

The months came and went and soon they were sending out the wedding invitations out. It was plain white paper, with on the back the date and place as well as the instruction to come dressed in white. While the front bore a poem written in cursive:

let us live like flowers

wild and beautiful

and drenched in sun

e.e.

When the day was there, Alex was stressing in the back of the church, while Thomas was waiting in the front. Alex had offered him the position of walking down the aisle, but Thomas had declined claiming it was too much pressure and that he at least knew what to expect if he got to stand.

Thomas was wearing a beautiful tailored magenta suit made by Hercules as he nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot.

The doors at the back of the church opened and first came the groomsmen and the bridesmaids. All decked out in beautiful white with accents in the colors of the bouquet, as well as flowers in their hair.

It began with Eliza and Maria, after them came James and Angelica, Lafayette and Peggy, Randy and Mary with Herc again roped into the position of flower boy, though he was helped by Kitty and Francie.

Once James, Angie, Laf, Randy and Mary had taken their places behind Thomas and Eliza, Maria Herc and Peggy on Alex’s side, the theme for Alex to walk started to play.

He was given away by Jane, who wore an elegant white 50s style dress, while Alex wore a tightly tailored emerald green suit. His hair was braided with flowers in it matching his bouquet of cluster musk rose, Christmas rose, heliotrope and hawthorn.

From the round window the sun illuminated him and Thomas’s breath caught when he saw him walk. There might have been tears, but that was a whole other thing.

Jane gave his hand to Thomas and smiled at him, before going to take her place in the audience with Kitty and Francie and the rest of the Jefferson clan.

Everyone sat and Washington appeared by Alex and Thomas’s side, ready to ordain them. Before he started Philip came down the aisle carrying the rings. He was dressed in an adorable light blue suit and his hair was tied back with a ribbon in the same color.

After he had given the rings to Washington, he stood next to Alex.

Alex had wanted to make him his best man, but since the best man had to sign as witness and Philip was too small for that, he was the ring bearer and Eliza would sign for Alex and James for Thomas, just like both had done before.

Washington started: “We’re here today to witness the union between Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson. Before this is officiated, they will say theirvows.”

“Thomas, when I first saw you I thought you were incredibly handsome and a gigantic asshole. One of my assessments has been proven entirely incorrect. You are one of the most kindhearted souls, I’ve had the pleasure of meeting,” Alex began.

He went on: “To me you are laughter over dinner, jokes in the hallways at works, a shoulder to lean on, a hand to hold like an anchor. You are sparkling eyes with crinkles that paint happiness on your features and a mouth that runs as smart as mine.”

“You know how to argue, but also when to let go,” Alex said, “You keep me on my toes, while knowing I sometimes just need to stand. I claim your arguments are shit and while that can be true, they always make me think and I love that.”

“The way you care for Philip and never asked for more than I could give, made my heart grow so fond of you that I cannot possibly picture a life wherein I do not love you,” he told him, “When I come home and see you there, I feel like I am whole.”

“According to Eliza I can’t force everyone to sit through the hundred pages I had written – even though it’s my wedding – which is rude, so I’ll try to wrap it up,” at that Thomas laughed, he could picture the scenario clearly.

“So, Thomas, you are all the little things that make life great,” Alex said, “No matter what, I want to support you and care for you, because I love you so much that it would hurt if it didn’t feel so right. I love you.”

Both were crying a bit and Alex chocked on the last three words as his hands shook while trying to put the ring on Thomas’s finger.

“Darlin’, you came into my life like a forest fire,” Thomas began, “You burned through all my arguments and notions of the world, like that was what you were meant to do. For a long time I thought you were out of control, but you proved me wrong once again.”

“You see, you’re not a forest fire,” he told Alex, “You’re a bonfire, a hearth in the heart of the home, a central place for family to gather. You make sure to keep the ones you care about warm, to illuminate them and pull them out of the darkness.”

He went on: “I always thought you talked too much, but I now know that for all your words, you know how to listen. Your smile can do as much as your words and you know how far a hug can go. The way you can be so intensely caring for the people you love is breathtaking.”

“I wanted to compare you to a thousand other things, but nothing could fully describe your beauty both within and out, which is incredibly corny, yet completely true,” he chuckled, “Anyway, this is my long winded way of telling you that I love you too.”

Now it was Thomas’s turn to struggle with the ring through the tears while behind them Washington began to speak again: “Alexander Hamilton, do you take Thomas Jefferson to be your lawfully wedded husband, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer,in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish,‘till death do you part?”

“I do.”

“And Thomas Jefferson, do you take Alexander Hamilton to be your lawfully wedded husband, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer,in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish‘till death do you part?”

“I do.”

“Then you may now kiss the groom.”

Neither hesitated to kiss the other lovingly, while beside them the church burst out in cheers and applause.

After they broke apart, they waved at everyone as they walked out of the church, with Philip between them.

Outside they took pictures with everyone, since everyone who had come was decked out in white, the three spots of color stood out all the more.

The time came to do one with the entire family, Alex cried again as both his friends and Thomas’s relatives gathered around them. When he had gotten to America he was all alone and then he had lost part of his family again, but now he was surrounded by almost more people than he could count.

They also took one where Thomas carried Alex bridal style, something Alex and John – being around the same height – had both failed at when they had tried at their wedding. Before Thomas could do it, Alex asked with apprehension: “Are you sure about this?”

“I’ve done this before, it’ll be fine,” Thomas smiled reassuringly, before literally sweeping Alex off his feet. He informed Alex of that fact and got an annoyed look in return, which was beautifully captured and framed by Angelica for on their desks at work.

The Schuyler sister insisted on taking one with Alex, because he was practically their brother anyways.

They took one with the Washingtons and Jane, a picture in which Alex had never felt so short in his entire life.

Herc and Laf, roped Randy and James into taking a picture where they carried the two groomsmen on their shoulders, something that most definitely went almost wrong on multiple occasions.

However, Alex’s favorite picture was the one where he and Thomas held Philip between them and both kissed a cheek, while Philip beamed.

Later he would hang that picture on the mantle between the other two wedding pictures, finally filling the promise that had been in the empty space.

But for now they went to the wedding venue for the reception.

When they were greeting all the guests at the reception, Burr congratulated themwith Theodosia at his side, little Theo had already disappeared with Philip, Kitty and Francie. He shook Alex’s hand: “Congratulations to both of you.”

“What a nice change to see you both here, you were even at the ceremony,” Alex grinned as he also shook Theodosia’s hand. Her smiling and congratulating them both.

“You’re never letting that go, aren’t you?” Burr sighed tiredly.

“Never,” Alex confirmed, “Good to have you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Burr waved as they disappeared into the crowd.

“What’s the story there?” Thomas asked, leaning in.

“I’ll tell you later,” Alex whispered back, before smiling and greeting the next guests.

Once everyone was there Alex and Thomas got to cut the cake. They had both agreed that neither of them would push cake into the other’s face, which meant that both ended up with cake in their face, naturally.

They mingled until dinner, when it was time for everyone’s speeches.

Thomas’s siblings all had rewritten a song from Thomas’s youth to fit the two of them and preformed it badly, but with a lot of love.

“I don’t know them,” Thomas whispered to Alex when they did that, making Alex laugh.

Jane retold embarrassing childhood from Thomas’s youth while Herc and Peggy had put together a PowerPoint of all Alex’s lowest points college and after.

Highlights included him standing on a table in a bar, tie around his head with a group surrounding him from that time he had attempted a revolution.

There was a picture of him surrounded by empty coffee cups, while he was passed out between them, face covered with sharpie.

Him with a cat on his lap, while he looked very displeased. Herc and Peggy took great joy in explaining why the cat had put that look on Alex’s face.

And it ended with the frozen frame of Alex crying – still claiming misty eyed, Pegs – while Thomas proposed to him, obviously they’d had help from Lafayette, but the Frenchman had an entire speech for them, mostly existing out of ‘I told you so’s.’

Washington had a short heartfelt speech about seeing them grow at work together as well as a few army stories about Alex.

Then Angelica stood up to give a speech: “I have to admit that when Thomas fell onto my couch over fouryears ago proclaiming that he couldn't flirt, I could not have predicted that we would be here now. Naturally I rooted for them, but you have to know that Thomas and Alex could be like water and oil at work, or maybe oil and fire would be a better description.”

A few chuckles from colleagues were heard.

“But here we are and I have seen how much you two have grown together,” Angelica went on, “Did I have to bribe and threaten you both to get that information? Maybe, but I did get to know everything.”

Thomas and Alex laughed at that.

“I remember the little humble beginnings, the tentative flirting, the first dates, the panic, the good times,” Angelica said, “And I knew you both for many years before that, I have seen you both happy and sad. And I am not the poetic one here, but I know what love looks like in your eyes and I can see it on both of your faces.”

She raised her glass: “To the grooms.”

The room echoed.

“From you friend, who is always by your side,” she went on, “To your union.”

“To your union.”

“And the family you have build,” she finished, “May you always be content and satisfied.”

She gave them both a kiss on the cheek and ignored they were all crying before she went back to her seat and Philip got to the front.

With Eliza as hypewoman, he walked in the Schuyler sister’s footsteps with a poem he had written and preformed as a rap:

“My name is Philip, I am poet

I wrote this poem just to show it

And I, can speech fine

You can find family, but you can’t find mine!

I practice French and play kite with my father

I have a Papa, and he’s a great fellow robber

My daddies tying the knot on this day, swank

Un, duex, trois, quatre, cinq!”

Everyone cheered and cooed as he ran into Alex’s arms afterwards and made himself at home on their laps as Eliza said a few words: “Alex is the speech writer between us both while I tell him it can’t be too long, so do not expect essays.”

There were chuckles around the room and Alex rolled his eyes, knowing she added that because she knew he would call her out in his vows, which she had proof read for him many times.

“But I did want to say that you’re a fighter,” she looked at Alex, “You always have been and I can see how much you’ve met your match in Thomas. I’m happy for you both.”

Alex hugged her closely and whispered: “God fucking dammit, Betsy, you’re not allowed to make me cry again on my wedding.”

She whispered back: “Like you weren’t already crying, you big baby.”

“Plausible deniability,” he sniffed.

“We’re filming it,” she smirked, before hugging Thomas as well and patting Philip on his head as she went back to her spot next to Maria.

Lastly, James got up to speak: “I am not a man of many words, so I’m keeping it short,” Thomas smirked and nodded at that, “All the times you annoyed me, Thomas, about what to do, have been worth it to see you so happy again.”

Now it was Thomas’s time to get emotional, hugging James tightly and saying: “I knew you cared,” attempting to tease and obviously failing.

“I know, a shocker,” James pretended it had worked.

After that dinner was served and everyone appreciated the dishes set out. While they ate, the whole room was alight with chatter as people talked, laughed and enjoyed themselves.

When the time came to dance, Thomas lead Alex to the tune of Hozier’s Like Real People Do. It was slightly haunting, but they had picked it, because it fit them so well. The song told the story about the singer recognizing the sadness in his lovers eyes and making them forget, focusing on the now.

As they spun, Thomas looked into Alex’s eyes with that crinkled smile and Alex nearly melted into the floor as he faltered as step.

He unknowingly retaliated, when Thomas picked him up and he beamed down. His braid had loosened slightly and a pluck of hair framed his face, while the lights gave him a halo, causing Thomas to nearly drop him.

Since there wasn’t really a father-daughter dance, Alex danced with Martha Washington, while Thomas danced with Jane. And after that, the two of them danced with Philip, the three of them laughing as they attempted it.

Throughout the night Alex danced with all the Schuyler sisters, Lafayette and Herc, while Thomas was whisked away by his own sister as well as Angelica and Lafayette.

At some point Jane took Alex’s hand and made him dance with her. Once they were on the floor, Alex smiled: “Hey, Ma, enjoying the wedding so far?”

“Immensely, sweetheart,” Jane smiled, patting his cheek, before he spun her.

“You’re an amazing dancer,” he commented.

“I’m spry for my age.”

“What age? You look not a day over thirty,” he grinned.

“Charmer,” she smiled, then said, “But I wanted to properly welcome you to the family. You’ve been a part for a long time, but still, today is a big day.”

She stopped dancing and reached into her purse. Out of it she got an old time watch with a leather arm band. As she handed it to Alex, she said: “When Thomas came out as pan to me, I prepared a wedding gift for all genders, just in case. Martha got my grandmother’s necklace, but this was my late husbands watch.”

“I- I don’t know what to say,” Alex stared at it with big eyes, he’d never had a family item.

“Maybe a thank you,” Jane grinned.

“Yeah, of course, thank you so much,” Alex hugged her, and repeated,“Thank you so much, Ma.”

She patted her cheek when he let go and said: “No problem, you’re one of us now and we don’t let go easily.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Alex smiled.

They parted ways again when the song was over and Thomas appeared at his side: “What was that about?”

Alex showed his wrist: “She gave me this.”

Thomas looked at it, then smiled sadly: “I remember that. It suits you.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” Thomas told him, “I also know that Lafayette and Herc are about to do what they’re calling a classic college trick at the chocolate fountain and I need you to either stop them if it’s bad or help them.”

“Oh, definitely helping,” Alex remembered this one, “Grab your phone and film it. We’ll get them back if they ever get married.”

After an eventful night with enough tomfoolery that they were probably permanently banned to ever rent a venue from that company again, they returned home.

Thomas carried Philip to bed, while Alex put away their wedding gifts. When he was done, he joined Thomas’s in Philip’s threshold.

“He’s still so young,” Thomas commented, “But he looks like when I first met him when he sleeps.”

“That’s already so long ago,” Alex hugged Thomas’s arm, leaning heavily on the other man.

“It seems crazy,” Thomas agreed.

Alex hummed, then they stood there in silence, before Alex asked: “Did you have a good day?”

“Of course, I did,” Thomas replied, then after a beat, “Though I am fucking exhausted after this, why did we invite all those people again? I hate talking to people.”

“Because we wanted to actually fill the church,” Alex grinned, “But you’re right, I could sleep for a week.”

“Well, sleeping beauty, you will have to make do to with,” Thomas checked the time, “five whole hours, then we have to catch a plane.”

“Ah, yes,” Alex said, “Paris is waiting.”

“Along with the future.”

“You fucking sap.”

“Excuse you, that’s your fucking forever sap, Mister.”

“Yeah, yeah it is.”

“Who’s the sap now?”

“Oh, shut up,” Alex said, but didn’t protest when Thomas lead him back to their bedroom. They still had a future waiting for them. ‘Till death to them part, after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N:

Today in I try to write a natural time skip between chapters.

Me describing a scene in a botanical garden with one flower as the end goal along with a whole ass wedding with flowers, is such a struggle lmao, but that’s what I get for making flowers important.

Btw the wedding bouquet means charming (cluster musk rose), relieve my anxiety (Christmas rose), devotion/faithfulness (heliotrope) and hope (hawthorn). Fun fact: I wanted to name this chapter after heliotrope at first, but that felt a bit too cliché.

Also the bit of poetry is from ‘i saw you as a flower’I got the book! It’s so cute and I love it, I’ve never been a poetry person, but I’ve always wanted to be, so here’s to me trying stuff :D

I am never getting married for the sole reason that I do not want to write vows ever again.

Also, the wedding bouquet:

#RR writing #tw: death mention #Hamilton #Hamilton AU #alexander hamilton #thomas jefferson #philip hamilton #eliza schuyler #angelica schuyler #lafayette #marquis de lafayette #james maddison #hercules mulligan #washington #everyone kinda lmao #Jamilton #'Till Death Do Us Part #'Till Death Do Us Part Part 13 #'Till Death Do Us Part AU

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katie-writes24 · 3 years

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Last Chance

Pairing: Alexander Hamilton x reader

Warnings: Language, suggestive material, brief religious content ig, angst, fluff, weddings, bad officiant script (if that makes sense), irl it’s kinda wrong but just go with it.

Part 2

I’ll just get straight to the point, Taylor Swift was the cause of this..... That’s it! You’re welcome, enjoy! Lemme know if you want to be tagged. Oh and also, can we appreciate that I finally figured out to put the ‘keep reading’ feature on because I finally set tumblr up on my computer? Yay me, this is a life changer you don’t even know!

As a kid, Y/N would be dragged to church every Sunday, told to represent her supposedly "religious" family. Her mother would force her into a dress, always reminding her to "sit like a lady" since there were always boys present, and you just never know. They would go and learn about the god above, be thankful that they were brought here, cheer his name.

When she was fourteen, she went into church on a Monday, this time for a funeral. She automatically noticed the change in tone, obviously, but since then she looked at churches a bit different. They weren't praised as much, they held an entire different meaning, one that wasn’t very happy at all. No, she learned that churches could be just as devastating as celebratory.

Like now, where people gathered in front of the steps, mingling and wearing expensive clothing. There was a truck on the lawn, workers were shoving different table sets across the road, where a large tent was set up. There was a group of people laughing a couple feet away, all looking down at a little girl with a white dress on. A stretch limousine rolled around and a few women climbed out with grace, all wearing the same pale color.

Truly devastating.

Y/N tugged at her own dress, hoping that the simple color would at least help her blend in with the crowd. Maria had told her it would be just fine, and it’s not like a new fancy dress was in her budget.

Besides, it’s not like anyone here cares about her appearance. They’re not here for her. In fact, she hadn’t found one familiar face yet, which should be a good thing, but Y/N couldn’t help but wonder how many of these guests both parties even knew.

“Would you ever get married?”

He scoffed, “Marriage isn’t very meaningful is it, why should I have to document my love for you? As long as we both know it right?”

“Okay...I guess you’re right, but I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a nice tux.” She wiggled her eyebrows, but it didn’t bother him.

“Is that all you’d want a wedding for? Because I will gladly put on a fancy tux if it meant you’d be down to-”

“Shut up! No, that’s not all. I’d like one, I’d think it’d be nice. It wouldn’t even have to be a big one.” She could see them by the beach, perhaps even getting married at the courthouse and use their money to blow on a big dinner after. She wouldn’t even mind a service in their apartment, it’s roomy.

“Well, not like I have anyone for a big wedding anyways…”

She sat down next to him and stroked her fingers through his hair. “We’d invite our friends. I could invite my mom, you know she loves you. We don’t need a bunch of people to have a wedding.”

“Good, because I don’t want a giant guest list where there are different number tables and- a full service and a grand ceremony. I just...I just want you.”

She wonders how much of this is total bullshit.

From where she’s standing, Y/N doesn’t think anyone would approach her. The lake is quite breathtaking, but the crowd is full of anxiousness and people are patiently waiting for the ceremony to start by the front of the church.

Some people pass her by, and she picks up on certain terms, like how “beautiful the church is” or “she picked out the perfect dress, Philip was crying it was so pretty” and her favorite “just wait till you see this guy, they are just perfect for each other.”

Perfect.

“I told you I can’t dance.”

“And I was a fool to not believe you. My feet are killing me,” He smirked and then laughed as she hit his shoulder.

“Fuck off! Why are we doing this again?” She looked up at the sky that cracked before her, grey clouds mushing together.

“Because dancing in the rain is on my bucket list,” He twirled her around, pulling her close when she fumbled out of the turn.

“Okay, what does that have to do with me? You’re telling me all your years before we met you couldn’t have gone outside and danced?” She grimaced as she felt drops of water against her skin.

“Maybe I was waiting for the perfect person to do it with?” A hand wrapped around her waist and she chuckled.

“Perfect? I am far from perfect,” They met each other’s stare and she got butterflies just seeing that look in his eye.

“Well, then this is perfect,” The rain started to beat against the cement below them. “You and me, here right now, together. It’s perfect.”

Lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t hear anybody approach until they called her name. Y/N turned her head a little too fast, scared that she would be caught, there would be a giant scene, and then she would lose her chance at-

At what exactly? She didn’t know either.

“That’s really you, isn’t it?”

Hercules always was so welcoming, she never felt out of place when she was around him. In fact, he actually had a small smile on now, dressed nicely in his, most likely own, tailored suit.

“Hey, Herc,” Y/N gripped her own arm, unsure if it was appropriate to go in for a hug. “You look nice.”

“Thank you, I made it myself.” He chuckled and opened his arms, allowing her to view his form. He looked just the same as she had seen him almost two years ago.

“It’s definitely you! Did that business of yours ever hit it off with the investors?” Maybe she was aiming for small talk in hope of a distraction, she wasn’t ready for the obvious to be out in the open just yet.

“No, but I’m working with something better. Got a lot of new line ups, good people to work with…” Hercules trailed off with a fond smile on his face.

“I’m really happy for you, Herc. You deserve it!”

He smiled, “What about you? What have you been up to?”

Y/N winced and tried not to fidget. “Still working for the same place, I actually got a promotion a couple months ago, so I’ve been busy with that...But everything else has been...things are going well.”

Hercules nodded, and just like a wave, tension flooded the air around them.

Y/N refused to look up and meet his eyes, to either see full curiosity, disappointment or any other mood that would just make her feel sick to her stomach, will have her asking the same question over and over to herself. However, the silence couldn’t stay too long.

“Y/N, what...why are you here?”

An older woman was yelling at a worker, wanting more champagne for the bride's suite. She was aggressive, and yet the guests around her weren’t baffled at her behavior in the slightest. Y/N hated entitlement, hated more when the rich forgot that other people aren’t as fortunate enough as them.

Y/N also hated that Hercules was still staring at her while she was wondering if her own mother would be so stressed as to the point of lashing out at others.

“How long have they been engaged?” She finds herself asking only to quiet her thoughts of if they were stuck in one place and never seemed to want more.

“Eight months,” Hercules sighed, never being one to push and always being honest. “Eliza’s sweet, she has a good heart. She’s loyal-”

Ouch.

“And she makes him happy.”

“Do you think we were ever… not happy?” Her eyes finally met his, instantly going soft and trying to word his answer carefully, even though Y/N could see a straight answer on his face.

“I think...you guys worked around each other well. I think you enjoyed each other’s company, and maybe you might have been in love once, but that’s in the past. Right now, over a hundred people are going to celebrate what’s best for him and Eliza…”

He’s not marrying you, he’s not with you.

It was something unspoken, but Y/N knew that was what Hercules was trying to get at, letting her know that her presence was unwelcome and that this was for the best.

Why was she here? Why did she think that today would be the day to confess her feelings that never drifted away? Why was she so selfish, and think that her happiness was more important than-

Someone approaches them rather quickly, and it makes her turn and brace for an attack.

Instead, it’s just John.

“What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here, you weren’t invited!” He was loud and he was causing a scene, something Y/N definitely did not want. He actually looked like he was about to jump her, but before he could move any closer Hercules puts his arm on John’s chest to block him.

“Relax, John,” Hercules looked back at her with a pointed look. “Y/N was just leaving.”

There was a pause, and she almost believed that yes, she was leaving. This was her cue, no one wanted her here, she wasn’t supposed to be here. Who is she to ruin a wedding? How could she do something so terrible?

“You should move in,” He ran his hand over her back, listening to her slow breaths.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’d be nice, having you here all the time?” He knew she was drifting off and probably wasn’t even registering what he was saying. He was proven wrong when she raised her head to look at him in the dark light.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt seeing you all day,” Y/N smirked as he nudged her with his leg. She kissed his chest and smiled down at him. “If I move in, there’s no turning back. Rent is too high for me to be switching back and forth.”

“I couldn’t think of anywhere else I'd want you to be.”

Y/N gave him a curt nod, walking backwards a bit before fully turning around. She walked all the way pass the church, passed the parking lot, all the way down to the end of the lake. She was out of sight.

But there was no way she was leaving. There was no way she was going to give up her last chance.

Even from where she stood, she could hear the beats of the traditional wedding music pick up, cheers from the crowd pick up as everyone hustled inside.

Her feet moved before she could even make a decision.

There was an elderly couple just walking into the room, and luckily the man held the door open for her. She thanked him and took the grand venue in. On each bench there was a bouquet of flowers, a white row leading up to the altar. It was packed, and Y/N could only imagine how many people she was about to shock.

She sat in an empty aisle seat in the back, and finally realized that Eliza was just reaching the top of the stairs, kissing her fathers cheek before he gave her over to him.

“Should I get a haircut?”

“No. I like it the way it is. You have nice hair, it’s soft and always so full. Why would you want to chop it off?” She caressed said hair.

“Eh, it’s too long. I think it’s a hassle to work with when I’m getting ready for work. I don’t know…” He looked in the mirror with a pained face. She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest, leaning her cheek on his back.

“Well, personally, I like it. But it is your hair. You know I’d love you either way.”

“Are you just being biased?”

“Mmh, well, I can’t say I don’t like having something to pull on.” She tugged and he whimpered before turning and kissing her, a full grin on his face.

He looked just like Y/N imagined him. In fact he hasn’t changed, except maybe the circles under his eyes got a bit darker. His hair was neatly wrapped in a ponytail behind his head, sharp tux on, a smile on his face.

Except none of that was for Y/N, it was for another woman.

Swallowing back the lump in her throat she cleared her throat, tapping her foot nervously as the officiant started speaking.

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the love of Alexander and Elizabeth.”

“Stop being such a poor sport.”

“You so cheated! You know what, it’s fine. Because I know what really happened.”

“I’ll tell you what happened: Mr. Hamilton sucks at Mario Kart!”

“You take that back!”

“Through their time together, they have realized that their goals and dreams are more meaningful through a combined effort and mutual support provided in love.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“You got promoted, Alex! You’ve come so far since we met. You work so hard, you stay late at work, you stress yourself out far too much for my liking. But you got exactly where you wanted to be! And from here you can only go up! I’m proud of you!”

He smiled, kissing her knuckles and thanking her.

“As we create this marriage, we create a new bond and a new sense of family.”

“I hope our kids have your eyes.”

“If we’re thinking about children, I have no problem shoving them right back if they don’t look exactly like you.”

“Alex, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m just saying. Your eyes, your nose, I even want them to be as witty as you.”

“I hope they don’t have your sense of style.”

“Hey!”

“Now, before we begin the vows, if anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony-”

“You’re acting crazy!”

“No, I’m acting reasonable! You can’t seriously think that you were just going to let this go?”

“Where are we going, Y/N? We’re stuck in this one spot, and I can’t do it anymore!”

“Then don’t!”

“Let them speak now, or forever hold their peace.”

“I think I’m falling in love with you…” She wiped the tears from her eyes as he held her closely to his chest. “And I’m terrified.”

Y/N stands without letting herself have any more doubts.

Almost immediately, attention is drawn. There are gasps in the crowd, one woman even let out a horrid yell. The man sitting a couple feet away even scoffs, like Y/N’s idea was ridiculous. It’s enough commotion that causes the bride and groom to look her way.

Warmth filled her as his brown eyes connected with hers.

It went in flashes, Alexander’s emotions. First he was a bit confused, almost as to why their loved ones were making such noise. Then, it was anger, finally realizing that it was because someone was objecting to his wedding. And as their eyes connected, it was like he was sad.

Maybe it was because he hasn’t seen her since she walked out. Maybe it was because she was ruining his special day. Maybe it was because he knew she lost her chance years ago, and that even he knew it was too late.

Maybe it was because he knew the outcome of this.

Y/N took a shuddering breath, before saying the three words that could easily crush the hearts of everyone in this room. But she ignored the appalled crowd, she ignored the angry face of John right next to Alex, she didn’t even want to see how broken Eliza must look right now.

Instead, she focused on the very small quirk of Alexander’s lips, the small chance of hope that was promised.

#alexander hamilton x reader #alexander hamilton x oc #alexander hamilton imagine #my writings #alexander hamilton fic #hamilton fic #hamilton fanfiction #hamilton fanfic #I should probably rewrite this #but it's whatever for now #I've had no inspiration for the past four days and then suddenly at 4 am I finished this #soooo yeah #hamilton imagine #okay but this is totally inspired by speak now and exile

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sunmoonandeddie · 4 years

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thanks for the memories

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3,002

summary: Bucky’s lived a long life.

warnings: Some h*ckin’ words. Angst with a happy ending.

a/n: So like. This is kinda short. At least it feels like it is. It’s also an idea from that fake fic ask meme I did. But I cried writing this. Let me know what you think!

Bucky took a deep breath as he came to a stop. The trek became harder and harder to make every week, but nothing short of death could stop him from coming. A bouquet of red roses hung from his hand. The same flowers he brought every time.

“Hi, angel,” he said, his voice cracking. It was the first time he’d spoken in a few days.

After all, his children and his friends were dead. He didn’t have the energy to make friends with the new members of the Avengers or anyone else. The most human interaction he got nowadays was when his grandkids called once a week to catch up.

But there was no one he wanted to talk to except for you.

It frustrated him, that he didn’t have the strength to make it more than once a week anymore. He used to come every day. Sometimes more. It was his favorite place in the world.

It had concerned Sam when he was still alive. But he didn’t know you. He didn’t understand like Steve had before he’d died.

And now here he was, finally catching up with all of his loved ones. His skin had wrinkled, his hearing had partially gone. His bones ached with every step he took.

The head stone in front of him didn’t give him an answer, but it didn’t need to. He could feel your presence even just standing here. It was the only place the voices in his head went quiet and he could just be.

Knowing that it would be a pain to get up later, he eased himself down onto the soft grass. His joints creaked painfully as he moved to rest against the head stone. Running his fingers across the weathered stone, he read your name out loud. “You know, I’m still mad that they didn’t give you my last name,” he said with a faint chuckle. “But I guess the government doesn’t recognize elopements in Austria.” The early winter wind brought a chill with it that went straight to his bones. Seasons nowadays just weren’t like they used to be. “Doesn’t matter. You’re still Mrs. Barnes to me.”

If he focused enough, he could picture you sitting next to him. You’d have that pretty green dress that you’d worn for him when all the soldiers and nurses got to go out dancing. Your hair had been perfectly curled, left unpinned for once. It was nice to see you out of your uniform.

“I wish you were here,” he said, tears springing to his eyes. “I feel so alone. Stevie’s gone, Sam’s gone. Nat’s gone.” He picked at one of the roses in the bouquet, tearing off the petals absentmindedly. “Even the kids are gone.”

His beautiful children. He’d never dated another woman, never got married. But after he’d retired as an active member of the Avengers and took on a position as a trainer, he’d finally gotten to settle down. The questions about his mental stability had been answered, and he’d been declared fit to raise a child.

It was then that he adopted Brienne, Alexei, Poppy, Mateo, and Eliza. His little war orphans. There’d been more that he’d fostered, giving them a home until they found their forever family.

It had been years since they’d died, leaving him with five more permanent holes in his heart.

Their children, his grandchildren, had all scattered around the globe, chasing their dreams and settling down. They all called at least once a week, visiting several times a year, but still.

“Sometimes I wish I’d never gotten that stupid serum,” he said as he looked out over the head stones that surrounded him.

He’d had to fight to have you buried in Brooklyn. You were originally buried in your hometown, but your family had agreed to have you moved to the city after he’d explained the situation to them. You were buried with the rest of the Barnes. His mother and father were buried in the plot to your left, and his sister, Rebecca, was buried in the plot to your right.

And when he died, he’d be buried right next to you as your husband.

“I keep asking myself why I survived the serum and you didn’t,” he murmured, his clouded blue eyes drifting up to the dreary September sky. You always did love the rain. You told him it brought new beginnings. It washed away the wrongs from before. “I think the only reason I’ve lived this long is for our kids. So I could find them and take care of them. Give them a home just like we always wanted to.”

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, angel?” He was sitting in a dirty cell with twenty other men, but he was only paying attention to you. You were being held in the cage right next to his, and the bars were far enough apart that he could slip his hand through to hold your hand. His thumb brushed over the little band on your left hand ring finger. It was covered in dirt and grime from being stuck in this prison for who knows how long now, the diamond unable to shine.

You hated it. You hated that your ring was dirty. And sure, it wasn’t much. Bucky had never had a lot of money, and he’d spent what he had on this little ring at a jewelry store in Vienna when they’d passed through a few months before.

It was there in Vienna that you two had found a little chapel and officially became a married couple, despite your families not being there and the priest not understanding English. Dum Dum ended up translating for them, and they’d left the church as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes.

“There’s gonna be a lot of kids without families after this,” you whispered, a melancholy in your voice that he only heard when you two were alone. You didn’t like the men seeing you upset, said it wasn’t fitting of a nurse. I’m supposed to be the one making all y’all feel better, Bucky, you’d said months ago when he’d asked why. The other men in the cell were asleep, and you’d finally been able to let down your mask.

He hummed, leaning his head against the cold bars, trying to get as close to you as possible. The sweet smell of your shampoo was long gone. “Yeah.”

“Can we… I think…” You swallowed as you tried to find the right words. “When you bring me home to Brooklyn, can we adopt a bunch of them?”

“Yeah?” He said, sitting up a little straighter as a smile tugged at his lips. The first in days. “You wanna have a bunch of little babies runnin’ around?”

And your smile was so sweet and so real that his heart just melted. “Wanna have a family with you, Buck.” You reached up to run your fingers through his greasy hair. “We’ll have a little house with a big yard and a porch, so we can watch all of ‘em run around. And I’ll finally get to meet Steve, and we’ll have him over for dinner every week.”

His heart swelled as the picture formed in his mind. He could see it so clearly. It was so close but so far away.

You two just had to survive this damn war.

“I’ll give you all the little babies you want,” he said with a warm smile. “We’ll singlehandedly raise all of Europe’s war orphans.”

The two of you froze as you heard the door opening. There were several sets of footsteps and the jingling of keys, and he knew what was about to happen next.

He could only hope that they were there for him this time, and not you.

“No… No, no, no,” you whimpered as you clutched onto his hand tighter than before. You were still so weak from when they’d taken you for the experiments the day before, and you knew it was only a matter of time before they came for Bucky again, but you just wanted to scream and kick and fight until they left him alone.

He’d already gone through the injections twice before you even went once. You’d seen how he’d changed. He’d come back bigger, more muscular. He healed quicker from the little scratches that came from sleeping on a concrete floor. He didn’t require as much food and water as before.

You, however… You just seemed to get weaker and weaker with each injection. No matter how much of his food that he gave you, it didn’t seem to help.

The group of men appeared before you, unlocking the cell to reach in and grab him. He didn’t bother to fight them, knowing that they would only threaten you to get him to comply.

But you clung to his hand, screaming at the men as you tried to hang on. The other soldiers were waking to your protests, growing more alert as they realized what was happening.

“LET HIM GO!” You shouted at them, your throat growing hoarse. Tears streamed down your cheeks, revealing your skin underneath the dirt that covered you. “STOP IT!”

If Bucky wasn’t so terrified of what was at the end of the hall, he would wax poetic about how you were still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen even while sobbing your eyes out.

The cry you let out when his hand was torn from yours was so guttural and raw it made several of the men flinch back. You were standing on shaky legs, your knees threatening to buckle the longer that you stood. Your arm was reaching through the spaces between the bars despite the fact that he was way out of reach and almost out of sight. “BUCKY!”

He kept trying to look back at you, wanting to savor the image of you so that he could keep it in his mind until this round of injections was over. He was happy to see Morita moving to comfort you, helping you back down to the ground to keep you from hurting yourself.

Maybe he’d think of your wedding day instead, and the way you sounded when you told him you loved him.

Yeah. That sounded better than thinking of you crying over him. He’d think of that.

Bucky wasn’t sure how long he’d sat out in the cemetery, drifting in and out of his memories.

He’d lived a long life. A good one, despite the fact that there were some pretty rough chunks.

The only thing that he regretted was that he wasn’t able to do more to help you. He hadn’t been able to stop those HYDRA dicks from injecting you with the serum. It had been too much for your body to handle, a stronger version of what they’d given him. They’d thought that you’d need more as a woman, according to Howard Stark.

Which was just complete bullshit. You were the strongest person he’d ever met.

He hadn’t been allowed to go home with your body. He hadn’t gotten to meet anyone from your family until after he’d broken out of HYDRA’s control back in 2014.

And now, over a century later, he was ready to rest.

Truthfully, he’d been ready for rest for a long time, but the serum had kept him from dying.

But he could feel the end coming closer. It was his time.

He didn’t even have the energy to get up and go back to his empty house.

A bit of sun broke through the clouds, warming his face. It was almost like a sign. You were there. You were ready to receive him with open arms.

He leaned his head back against the headstone, shivering as his bald spot rested against the cool marble. “Whenever you want me, angel. I’m ready.”

The next day, Jamie sighed into the phone as she climbed out of her car, heading into the cemetery. “No, he wasn’t at home. I told him I was gonna be coming today. Maybe he forgot.”

As much as she hated to admit it, despite the super soldier serum that had kept him alive so long, her grandfather was growing older. His strength had been the first to go, followed by his hearing. It wouldn’t be too much of a shock if he’d started to lose his memory, too.

God, she hoped not. As much as her grandfather loved her and her siblings and cousins, she knew that his memories of you were what kept him going. His loving wife, torn from him too soon, that wanted to create your own family with him.

And even though none of them had ever gotten to meet you, Jamie’s mom and aunts and uncles all said that you were their mother.

“I’m at the cemetery now,” she said as she headed for the Barnes’s family plots. Her cousin, named after you, was supposed to be coming to visit with her tomorrow. “I don’t—” She broke off as she spotted him, breaking into a run. “Grandpa?!”

Jamie could hear her cousin’s voice shouting through the phone, demanding to know what was going on, but she let it fall to the ground as she sank to her knees.

James Buchanan Barnes was dead at two hundred and fourteen years old.

He was resting peacefully against your head stone, the red roses he always brought hanging limply from his hand.

He looked… at peace. The tension that had always resided in his shoulders had dissipated.

He was at rest.

“Buck?”

Bucky hummed, his eyes still closed as he began to stir.

A familiar giggle filled the air. “Bucky!”

A giggle he hadn’t heard in almost two centuries.

His limbs felt heavy in the best way as he shifted, the mattress beneath him cool. The sheets twisted around him, keeping him warm without stifling him.

“My love…” A soft touch along his cheek, a caress that he’d dreamt about every night. Dainty fingers that used to be calloused from the hard work of war. “It’s time to wake up.”

Bucky’s eyes slowly fluttered open, the soft light of the room somehow not making him recoil in shock.

“There he is.”

His eyes popped open as he realized that you were leaning over him. The prettiest smile he’d ever seen was painted on your lips. Lips he’d spent hours kissing. “Angel? You’re… You’re…”

You simply nodded, shushing him as you urged him to relax. “I’m here. I’m here. It’s okay.”

“You look just as gorgeous as you did back in forty-three,” he croaked. The smile he was rewarded with warmed him down to his toes, calming his soul in a way he hadn’t felt since the war. He pushed himself up suddenly, blue eyes wide. “There was never anyone else. Only you.”

“I know, I know,” you reassured him, pushing his hair back. “I wouldn’t have been upset with you if there was. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

“Couldn’t ever look at another gal that way,” he said, leaning his forehead against yours. “Not when I’d already found the love of my life. No one could ever compare to you.”

Your laugh was teary as you pressed your lips to his tentatively, almost like you were scared to. “I’ve waited so long for you. I’ve missed you so much.”

Bucky swallowed around the lump in his throat as his fingers threaded through your hair, pulling you in for another searing kiss. Neither of you noticed that you were crying until you tasted the salty tears on your lips. “I’ve missed you, too.” He sniffled. “All I ever wanted to do was make you proud.”

“Silly boy,” you whispered, nose nudging against his. “That’s all you’ve ever done. You gave me children even when I couldn’t be there to help raise them.”

His brows furrowed as he looked around the room, realizing that it was the master bedroom of his house in Brooklyn. It was decorated differently, but definitely still his house. “Is this…”

Nodding, you slipped out of the bed, holding your hand out for him to take. “I’ve been waiting for you here since forty-three.”

He took your hand without hesitation, allowing you to pull him out of the bed and out the bedroom door. A fondness creeped into his smile as he saw the photos lining the halls. Pictures of you and your family, of your children, of him. Never before seen photos of you with the kids.

“Come on, my love,” you said, already two steps down the staircase. Your eyes were bright as you stared up at him. “We’ve got people waiting for us.”

The fourth stair from the bottom still creaked, and it was then that he realized the body he was in. His hands were young again. His muscles didn’t strain with every step. His bones didn’t creak.

He was young again.

“Yes, you have your hair back,” you teased, reading his mind like you always did. Your voice was clear as a bell, the best thing he’d heard in decades.

His heart caught in his throat as you pulled him towards the back door, the sound of voices growing louder. “Are…”

Opening up the back door in the kitchen, you revealed all of his friends and family that he’d lost over the years. Alexei and Eliza were playing a pickup game of football with Sam, Peter, and the Howling Commandos. Steve was manning the grill, chatting with his father and Mateo about who knows what. Natasha was sharing a plate of fresh strawberries with Poppy. Peggy was standing off to the side with his mother, Rebecca, and Brienne like it was just a random Sunday.

There were so many others that he thought he’d lost over the years. Loved ones he never thought he’d see again.

His eyes pricked with fresh tears as your hand slipped into his, squeezing. A reassurance that you were there by his side.

And you’d never leave it again.

#bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

Text

A New Era of Gods and Monsters (Indruck)

Prompt for the 21st was: Monster Movie. Behold my old hollywood AU, featuring a title from the Bride of Frankenstein and a universe in which Transphobia doesn’t exist by the Hayes Code does. It is NSFW

February 20th, 1935.

Tinsel Town is abuzz with news that promising young director Joseph Stern is starting work on a new horror picture. The latest announcements from Kepler Studios state that it will rival the director's previous smash monster chiller “Nightmare Woods.” No news as of yet as to who will star, and who may be donning greasepaint and false fangs to play the creature. Only time will tell, but we look forward to whatever terrifying delights he has in store. Assuming, of course, that he does not run afoul of the censors.

“Homoeroticism!” Stern tosses the warning from the Hayes office onto his desk, “that's what they sent me a warning about Ned! There wasn't even any in the picture.”

“You know how these modesty police are, dear boy; they see depravity where there is none yet are so out of touch they do not recognize the very things they're afraid of when they are present. Now that you’ve been scolded, how do you wish to proceed?”

“In whatever way won’t get me fired. There's a fine line between the kind of censor uproar that drives publicity and the kind that the studio heads think is too risky.”

“As your producer, I support you entirely in whatever you choose. And I'm happy to apply my considerable eloquence to soothing the concerns of those who sign our paychecks.”

Stern flops down in his desk chair, staring at the almost complete script in a tidy stack.

“If we’re going to gamble, the more big names I can get the better. I think it’s time to call in my favor from Amnesty Pictures. After that, well; if they’re going to complain about homoeroticism, we may as well give them something to really complain about.”

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

A month later, Stern sits at a large table in the studio meeting room, the bulk of his cast already thumbing through their scripts and chatting quietly to one another. Some of them, such as Aubrey Little and Moira Redfeld, are contract players to Kepler, ones he snatched up for this picture before anyone could interfere. There are also two on loan from Amnesty, a trade off for the time he and Ned worked their Hollywood contacts to help Mama, the studio head, raise money to fund the film that put the studio on the map.

His own relationship with Mama’s right hand man, Barclay, who acted as their go-between in those early days, may have helped his case.

The first player on loan is Dani Coulice, who’ll play Aubrey's dear friend and confidant who accompanies her to the house of her mysterious uncle. Dani has an understated charm on screen and, judging by the eyes she’s making at Aubrey, the two women will be able to pull off the romantic subtext he needs them to with ease.

And then there’s Indrid Cold. His first appearance in The Smiling Man drew quick comparisons to Claude Raines, Bella Lugosi and, more importantly, to the great Lon Chaney. Not only does the actor design and apply his own character make-up, he embodies his monsters and murderers in a way that leaves the audience hiding beneath their covers for days.

Stern knew the moment he and Kirby began working on the script that no one but Indrid Cold could play the titular Dr. Nacht. Now all that's missing from the table is…

“Sorry I’m late Joe. We ran long shootin the sword fight.” A southern drawl and apologetic smile announce the entrance of his other leading man. A man who's trained for years under two mentors to follow in their footsteps as swashbucklers, knights, soldiers. The man who is often described as destined to save the day, regardless of the picture.

When you wanted a monster, you got Indrid Cold. When you wanted a hero, you hired Duck Newton.

Which is why Stern remains surprised that Duck took this role so readily. He wants him for it, thinks he’s just the man to balance Indrid's aloof, otherworldly demeanor. But this time, his character won’t emerge triumphant.

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

Duck cannot fuck this up. It’s a goddamn miracle Joe offered it to him at all, given that he’s never done horror before, the studio not wanting to waste him on something so strange. There was a time when Duck would have steered clear of it too, but he trusts Joe, and the rest of the cast is strong. And the leading men in these pictures are never the heroes Duck is used to; they’re scientists, good men in over their heads, soldiers carrying the mental wounds of the war. They’re something new.

The only thing that worries him is Indrid Cold. Amnesty Pictures is known for darker, more daring fare than most studios, and Indrid always seems to be in the mix. His reputation is one of eccentric artistry, something Duck has little patience for.

It’s been alright so far, the first weeks mainly getting costume tests and memorizing lines, and Indrid is polite but aloof. When Duck mentions this to Dani, she takes her eyes of Aubrey long enough to shrug, “He’s up in his own head a lot, he doesn’t mean anything by it.”

Today they’re shooting the arrival of his character, Henry Harper, at the lonely country estate of Dr. Edward Nacht. The doctor is Eliza’s (played by Aubrey) uncle, and she’s traveling to stay with him along with her dearest friend, Lucy (played by Dani). Henry and Eliza are ostensibly betrothed, but the script makes only the barest mention of it, putting Duck opposite Indrid and Aubrey opposite Dani in most scenes.

Joe’s instructions are to play Harper as a classic, bland, heroic lead for the first third of the film, and he gets himself into that headspace as they take their positions.

“Now remember, Aubrey, you’re the only one who’s even little used to your uncle's mannerisms, so you should be genuinely happy to see him. Right, here we go, action!”

The trio pretends to startle at the massive mansion door shutting on its own, turning in sync to look behind themselves.

“That’s the trouble with these old houses; they have a mind of their own.”

Indrid stands at the top of the staircase, eyes uncovered for the first time since they met. Head held high, dark suit contrasting with his pale hair and sharp features, he grins at them as he descends the steps. It’s commanding and unnerving, the actor managing to convey something odd lurking beneath his veneer of gentility.

Aubrey runs to greet him, saying her lines as Dani and Duck trail behind her. He only ends up at the right mark thanks to watching Dani from the corner of his eye; the rest of his attention is locked on Indrid.

“This is my dear friend, Lucy Price.”

“Wonderful to meet you, any friend of my niece is welcome in these halls.” Indrid takes Dani’s and, kissing it with a friendly smile.

“And this is Mr. Harper, my finance.”

The smile widens as Indrid offers his hand, Duck taking it as the blocking dictates. There’s a beat where Indrid guides it upwards, as if intending to kiss it. Then he stops, shaking it instead.

“A pleasure to have you here, Mr. Harper. It seems my niece shares her mother's fine taste in men.”

It takes him a moment to remember he’s not supposed to stand transfixed.

“I look forward to gettin to know you, doctor.”

Indrid steps back, still grinning, “if you three will follow me, I will show you to your rooms.”

“Cut!”

Christ, that was awful, he should have played that more confident, more in control-

“That was perfect Duck, just the right approach.”

“Oh, uh, thanks Joe.”

“I must admit I am pleasantly surprised.” Indrid adds.

“How so?” Duck looks up at him.

“Simply that quipping whilst swinging a sword about does not always result in someone who can convey complex emotions on screen.”

“Now wait just a fuckin second-”

“I, ah, I was trying to be complimentary.” Indrid almost sounds like he means it.

Duck crosses his arms, “Oh yeah? Then I guess I oughta say I’m impressed a fella who runs around covered in monster make-up most of the time can actually emote.”

“That was uncalled for.”

“You started it.”

“I did not mean to start anything!”

“Gentlemen, if we could continue with our shooting” Ned’s voice cuts in and Duck turns to see half the soundstage string to them.

“Uh, right, sorry. Always get little, uh, tense on the first day. Right, Indrid?”

Indrid rises n unimpressed eyebrow, “Where shall we take it from?”

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

It doesn't get better after that first day.

Duck tries, he really does, and he can tell Indrid is doing the same. But the longer they work together, the more often they snap at one another in between scenes.

“What were you two arguing bout now?” Aubrey says as they walk to the parking lot one evening.

“We, uh, well he, uh, huh. I can't remember.”

She shakes her head, “Yep, that's what I thought.”

They’re third of the way through the shoot, and it's going on ten at night, Joe trying to get as much done as he can before another picture borrows the set for two days.

Duck and Indrid are the only actors remaining, working on the scene where Henry, having agreed to help the doctor in his work, confronts him over the nature of the experiments. Once they finish this scene, they’re done, but Indrid keeps tripping over the word “indomitable.”

When he fucks it up for the fourth time, Duck drops his head into his hands, “fuck’s sake, it ain’t that hard.”

“That’s rather rich coming from someone whose accent ought to have rendered him obsolete at the advent of talking pictures.” Indrid replies dryly.

“Fuck you.”

Indrid straightens up, ready with a retort, when Joe shouts for them to retake their places and try again.

“You are meddlin with forces you don’t understand, doctor. Forces that are a mystery for a reason.”

“Do not underestimate me, Mr. Harper. Man is far more powerful, far more capable than scholars or priests would have you believe.” Indrid steps towards him, voice cool and smile detached, “we are no better than beasts if we cower in the shadows of ignorance, never daring to dream of what may be within our reach. Man was meant to question, Mr. Harper, meant to search and create. Man is indomitable.” His grin brightens not only from correctly pronouncing the word, but as part of the scene; because Duck is hesitating, won over for an instant by his speech.

Duck shakes his head, “Dreams and questions are all well and good, but they all come to nothin if you barrel forward without a thought for the harm you might do. No, doctor, while we're here, I forbid you from such experiments. I won’t have Eliza in such danger, nor will I risk her losing her remaining family.”

Indrid cocks his head, amused, “You forbid it?”

Duck tilts his head up to meet his eyes, “I do.”

His back slams into the laboratory counter, Indrids hands gripping it on either side of him.

“Perhaps I have been unclear, Henry. I am the master here, not you.” Slender fingers grip Duck’s lapels, tugging him nose to nose with Indrid, “you would do well to remember that.”

“Cut! Perfect, thank the lord, so we can finally get out of here.” Joe’s voice snaps Duck back into the soundstage, but Indrid hasn’t let go, is instead eyeing Duck’s face, tongue coming out to wet his lips.

How long has Duck been breathing this hard?

Indrid release his hold, smoothing down the front of Ducks jacket. He frowns, “You’re shaking. Are you ill?”

“N-nope.”

Unconvinced, Indrid touches his forehead, “You feel rather warm. Please tell me you are going home rather than out to paint the town?”

Duck wants to tell him to mind his own damn business. All that comes out is, “Yeah, might just straight sleep through til Sunday. You rest up too, y’hear?”

Indrid smiles, “I will do my best.”

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

“Catching up on some correspondence?”

Duck sets down his pen as Indrid sits at the lunch table across from him, “My sister moved back out to West Virginia not that long ago, and I promised I’d keep her up to date on everythin goin on out here.”

“Is she younger or older than you?”

“Younger by four years. You, uh, you got any siblin’s?”

“No. I was raised by my aunt and uncle, so I have a cousin instead. Here, I think I might have a picture.” The taller man pulls out a notebook, flipping through it, “ah, there he is.”

“Christ, if I couldn’t see the smudge up there, I’d think that was a fuckin photo.”

“Thank you.” Indrid dips his head, tucking the notebook back into his jacket pocket, “I mostly keep that on me in case I am struck by a new creature design, but it has other uses.”

“Where’s your family from?”

“Germany, originally, then the Salinas valley.”

“Told it’s real beautiful up there.”

“It has its moments, fewer now that they’ve found oil.”

“What’s your favorite?”

Indrid tells him, talks about the nearby mountains and traveling down to the coast, about hitchhiking his way to Los Angeles because he felt foolish asking for the money for a bus ticket when most of the family thought his journey was pointless.

“Sure proved them wrong.” Duck nudges his ankle playfully under the table.

“I suppose.”

After that conversation, Duck likes his days on set even better. The chair reading “Indrid Cold'' is now next to his more often than not, the two of them running lines or talking about gardens and art between takes. They bring in a black cat--meant to be the doctor’s pet-- for several days of shooting, and Indrid laughs whenever Duck picks it up and coos over it, smile fading to a gentle, shy expression when he catches Duck looking.

And when Joe instructs them to brush hands, or let their gaze linger too long on each other during scenes, Duck hopes they’ll have to do take after take.

Today the set is full of excitement, as it’s the first time Indrid will appear in his full monster make-up; he’s shot two scenes in shadows, hinting at the horror of it as he takes innocent life on the moors. Now, Duck will enter the laboratory and see first hand the results of the doctor’s experiments.

“Action!”

Duck steps into the darkened room, equipment flashing and test-tubes billowing smoke.

“Doctor, there’s been another death in the village, and you’re the police are asking for your help. They say it’s like nothin they ever seen before.”

Heavy footfalls and the scrape of nails on metal signal Indrid’s approach, but he’s not to turn until the actor speaks.

“Doctor, can you hear me?” He looks around, worried, then calls hesitantly, “Edward?”

“Hello, Henry.”

He turns and yells in fright, hand flying to cover his mouth. Where there once was an elegant, odd figure, now a massive nightmare looms out of the darkness. Indrid’s mouth stretches wide, curve fangs protruding from either corner, face coated in bloodied, feathered scales, and claws reaching for Duck.

“Edward what” he staggers backward,s “what in god's name have you done?”

“What I set out to do, my dear Henry. Can you not see that?” Indrid giggles with the hysteria of a man consumed by bitter disappointment, “perhaps you should come closer.”

“Stay back, I’m warnin you-”

Indrid lunges, snarling, and Duck throws himself out of the way, hitting first the edge of something sharp and then the ground

“Fuck!”

“Cut!”

“Oh dear, are you hurt? Here, let me help-”

Duck holds up a hand, gritting his teeth, “You stay right where you are. Fuck, christ,” the hand gripping his leg comes away spotted with blood, “what the fuck, that wasn’t in the blockin!”

“Joseph said he trusted me to improvise my movements, to maximize the tension.”

“You gotta fuckin warn me about shit like that, all my movement is backwards, meanin I can’t see where I’m goin.”

“I assumed a man who made his living fighting knew how to use his peripheral vision.”

“How bad is it?” Dewey, one of the camera men, helps Duck up as Stern approaches them.

“Give there’s a bloodstain on our set, enough to send him over to the medical office. I'm calling it for the night . I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Joe runs a hand through his hair, levels them both with a warning look before turning back to dismiss the crew.

It’s not all that bad once he’s out of the torn pants and gets it cleaned off. When he gets back to the dressing room to retrieve his coat and hat, there’s a large black case, like fisherman's tackle box. It’s what Indrid calls his toolkit, full of the tools and tricks he uses to turn himself into a monster. He once called it his most prized possession.

Duck switches off the light, has the door halfway shut before he stops. Groaning in frustration at his own decency, he turns and grabs the box from the floor.

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

“This had better be important” Indrid calls through the apartment door, “I must go back out for something and do not have time to waste.”

“Wouldn’t happen to be goin out for your toolkit?” Duck says dryly.

The door flies open, revealing Indrid in a black dressing gown, face a bit pink, no doubt from scrubbing off all his monster make-up.

“Yes.” He snatches the box away by it’s handle, hurrying over to the table and leaving Duck in the doorway, “you didn’t touch anything did you? Or show it to anyone else?” His head whips over his shoulder, red glasses slipping down his nose to reveal a hard, suspicious glare.

“No, I didn’t touch a damn thing.” Duck steps over the threshold, shutting the door and tossing his hat onto the couch, “and you're welcome.”

Indrid inhales deeply, “I, I apologize. The tricks I developed, my techniques, my materials, practically all of it is in this box. If someone else were to get hold of it, replicate my effects, my career would be over.”

“What are you talkin about?”

The taller man sighs, turning his back and heading into his bedroom, “I do not expect you to understand.”

Duck is ready to tear his hair out, stalks into the bedroom after him, “Fuck’s sake Indrid, do you think you’re the only fella here with the brains to understand shit?”

“That is not what I meant and you know it.”

“No, I really don’t. What do you want from me, Indrid? Most days you’re palin’ round with me, then you act like you think I’m some sheltered idiot who’s had everything handed to him.”

“Because you have” Indrids hands could be conducting symphony for how much they move s he continues, “you had mentors, people who told you from a young age that you had a place in this business, who carved out roles for you and handed down their skills, their legacies. I had nothing, I had to make my way based on skill and luck alone.”

“Were the fuck do you get off assumin that sort thing bout me? At lest you got some fuckin say in the way your career went. Minerva had it all planned out for me, hell, at the start I fought hard to do somethin other than those hero parts.”

The anger on Indrid’s face flickers, “Why did you stop?”

“Because I didn’t wanna end up with nothin! As you keep pointin out” he steps towards Indrid, jabbing a finger into his chest, “my kind are a dime a dozen in this town.”

“Which means you can get any part you choose! You are the kind of man everyone loves. God help me if horror ever falls from favor, I will be back in dust of the farmland in an instant.”

Duck growls at the sorry ploy for sympathy, “Bullshit, you’re better on camera than anyone in this town.”

“That doesn’t matter! For goodness sake, Duck look at me!” He gestures wildly at his face, “without my monsters, without horror, I'm nothing. Amnesty might try to help me, but they’d soon find that unless they can be terrified of me, audiences have no use for Indrid Cold.” Resignation tinges his voice, and it kicks Duck’s anger out from under him.

“Indrid, that ain’t true-”

“-No, it is very true”

“-will you let me fuckin finish?” Duck reaches for him, not certain what he means to do.

“I have no desire to-” Indrid moves his arm to push Duck’s away, and puts too much force behind it, losing his footing on the hardwood floor and falling backwards onto the bed. In attempting to recover his balance, one leg kicks out, knocking Duck forward. He catches himself with one knee on the mattress and his hands on either side of Indrid, pulling abruptly down on the dressing gown. When it opens, they both go still.

“You, uh, why ain't you wearin anythin under this?”

“I was not aware I need to follow a dress code in my own blasted house.” Indrid manages through grit teeth, face turned resolutely away from Duck. He follows the angle of his jaw down the line of his neck, the noticeable points of collarbone, ribs, and hips beneath tan, sun-hungry skin making him think of fine china or rare plants, the kind you cultivate for years in hopes of seeing something no one else could ever dream of.

“Would you kindly stop staring?” Indrid murmurs.

“Why?” Duck drags his gaze away from his body just as Indrid levels him with an exhausted frown.

“Fine, go ahead and get your fill so you can--in excruciating detail--tell anyone who is interested that I look just as strange without clothes as I do in them.”

“Is that really what you think I’m doin?”

“I have a hard time believing there could be...another..” He trails off s Duck leans down, cupping his cheek and bringing his other leg up to straddle him.

“You sure about that belief?” He bumps their noses together.

“I'm starting to have my doubts.”

Duck snickers, carefully bringing their lips together. Indrid hums, wrapping his arms round Duck and running his hands along his back up into his hair. He’s kissed plenty of times, on and off screen, but Indrid is earnest and hesitant all at once, as if Duck is giving him a gift he’s not sure he deserves. He’s also wonderfully responsive, twitching and arching whenever Duck touches him, licking and nipping at his lips, begging to be let inside. Duck opens them, sighs when Indrid teases their tongues together.

When he sits up, Indrids hands draw across his bare chest, concerned.

“Don’t worry, darlin , I ain’t goin far.” He slides off the bed, sinking to his knees between Indrid’s legs s he pulls off his jacket, “Just seems to me you need someone to show just how fuckin handsome you are.”

“Are you oh-so-graciously volunteering?” Indrid’s smile is plain in his voice.

He pushes up his sleeves, “Yep.”

Indrid’s cock is soft when he wraps his fingers around it, stroking up gradually to rub the head with his thumb. Licking along the underside turns Indrid’s so “ohs” into a full-throated moan.

“That’s more like it, darlin.” Duck kisses up and down the shaft , slipping a hand lower to gently toy with his balls, “get hard for me.”

“Wh-what” Indrid gulps down a breath, “what makes you think you are in charge here?”

In lieu of an answer, he takes the head of is cock into his mouth, sucking hard, not letting up until pre-cum seeps along his tongue. Indrid’s hands cling to the edge of the bed, the room filling with high gasps and the odd squeak when Duck zig-zags his nails along his inner thigh.

He pulls off, wiping away the string of spit trailing from his lips. Laps intermittently at his slit as he speaks, hoping his voice is coming across husky rather than desperate, “Well, sugar, what do you say? Gonna let me call the shots?”

“I s-say” One hand wavers in the air, about to stroke his hair, and Duck dips to the side, bumping his head into his palm in tacit permission.

“I say a man on his, his knees giving orders is presumptuous.”

“Ah!Fuck” Duck groans as Indrid tugs his hair, forcing him to sit up straight.

“And I’d say his mouth could be put to an even better use.”

Duck scrambles onto the bed, kissing Indrid furiously as soon as he reaches him, the pale-haired man rolling them over and tangling them both in the top blanket with their feet still hanging off the bed.

“Did I say you could stop paying attention to my cock? OOhhnnnn, yes, yes” he hooks a leg over Ducks thigh, pumping into the shorter man’s fist, “perfect, god, everything about you is, is just right.”

“I ain’t the only one.” Duck aims for his lips, ends up kissing his cheek, when he buries his face into his neck with a whine.

“It’s true. You think I go to my knees for any old fella?”

“Mphhm” Indrid’s glasses dig into his shoulder.

“You think I’d be doin this” he speeds up his hand, “if that face of yours didn’t make me wanna do things in front of those cameras that’d make the devil blush.”

“Mmhpmm” Indrid clings to him like lichen yet refuses to look up.

Duck stills his hand, “I ain’t startin up again unless you answer me, sugar.”

Indrid raises his head halfway, five o’clock shadow pricking Duck’s cheek.

“Duck Newton, I do believe you are telling the truth. You think I am handsome.” Shyness lurks just beneath the teasing, so Duck tenderly brushes his fingers along Indrid’s face.

“That I do.”

He raises up enough to bring them nose to nose, “And I think you put all other matinee idols to shame with only your smile.”

“Indrid.” It’s his turn to blush, and he only grows redder when Indrid guides his hand off his cock and to his lips to kiss it.

“I have an idea. As much as these” he releases his hand to snap his suspenders, “flatter that broad chest of yours, they and your pants need to come off.”

As Duck exiles his clothes and shoes to the floor, Indrid lays with his head on a pillow, steadily stroking his cock. Staring at that sight adds a good minute to his undressing, but Duck doesn’t give a damn.

When he goes to straddle Indrid’s hips, the other man shakes his head, “Nono, up here.” He pats the pillow on either side of his head.

“Shit yeah, been wanting to fuck that stunnin face for weeks.”

Indrid’s face is beet-colored by the time Duck brackets it with his knees.

“S-so have eye”

“Aw, sugar, you gettin tongue tiIIIIedfuck.” His palms thwack into the wall as Indrid circles it along his folds.

“What was that about tongues?” His smirk is just visible between Duck’s thighs.

“That if you don’t keep usin yours like that, you’re gonna see a grown man cry with need.”

“We cannot have that.’

“FUuuuuck, fuck.” He wiggles his hips to help Indrid get the right angle, unsure if he can ask for more pressure.

“You, you can put more weight down if you need.”

He grinds down, moaning when Indrid’s lips part further to give his tongue more room to work. The moan is echoed below him, muffled though it may be, as one of Indrid’s hands disappears from view. A moment later, he bucks, gasping and laving his tongue along Duck’s dick.

“Shit, right there, keep goin right there.”

Indrid curves and flicks his tongue along the sensitive skin, hums of pleasure mingling with the messy sound of his hand flying up and down his cock. When he closes his lips around his dick Duck yelps, hunches forward to rest his head on the wall as he sucks him off, pressure spiking deliciously whenever he moans or strokes himself harder. Indrid cums with a whimper, sticky hands landing on Duck’s ass to urge him on as he ruts into his mouth.

“That’s it sugar, fuck, you’re amazin, feels so fuckin good oh fuck, fuck, Indrid, fuckin christ.” He rolls his hips harder and faster until the friction makes the orgasm burst through him. He just manages to lift himself off and collapse on the bed rather than Indrid's neck.

“Did, do you hear a, uh, a crack?”

Red glasses, a split across the right lens, appear in front of him.

“Aw fuck” he giggles, “didn’t know I was goin that hard. Lemme buy you a new pair?”

“I have several spares, on account of my own occasionally absent mindedness” Indrid is up on his side, grinning down at him, face still shiny with slick, “and I am taking that as a testament to my skill. Perhaps I should wear them with pride to the set tomorrow.”

“Please don’t” Duck laughs harder, “fuck, can you imagine the look on Joe’s face”

Indrid is laughing too now, “They are not part of my costume, it would not affect the shoot. Save the part where the reminder of how you looked just now, flushed and ecstatic above me, would make it rather hard to focus.”

Duck shifts onto his side, nestling up against him, “you’re a real sweet talker, you know that?”

“You have that effect on me.” He feels him inhale more deeply, fingers toying with Duck’s hair, “would, ah, would you like to spend the night? I believe you are not needed tomorrow, and I am only needed in the evening.”

“I’d love to” Duck nudges him onto his back to better cuddle across his chest, “got no interest in sleepin alone any time soon.”

“Do, ah, do you mean you wish to, ah, to-”

“Yeah, I do. I wanna see what it’s like to have the finest man in the city on my arm. Assumin he wants the same thing.”

“You do not think I am snobbish and strange?”

“Not anymore than you think I’m spoiled and had it easy.”

Indrid kisses the top of his head, “Then I think this could be the start of something wonderful.”

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

Stern looks up from the script as his two leading men walk onto the set, arms linked and whispering to one another, each smiling wider than Laurel Canyon. He turns back to his notes.

“About fucking time.”

#indrid cold/duck newton #indruck #promptober #movie star au #old hollywood au

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