#girl i will go to bed in a full pyjama set and fluffy socks with 2 stuffed animals; a duvet and a blanket

[fingertipsmp3]

I will really watch a video of someone’s ✨sleep routine✨ which is essentially them straightjacketing themself and be like “oh I should try that” as if I don’t lie awake seething if I don’t have full range of movement

[muffindaddystyles]

OH NO BABY!!

Summary: It was Harry who swimmed in freezing ass water but someone else (his lovie) ends up catching a cold, caring boyfriendrry, a mighty bit momrry.

Turquoise chilly waves crashes against the dark coloured stones as Y/N watches her button sized boyfriend; summat all with rosy cheeks and nose, un-tattooed, wearing excessively short knickers (so tiny it shows the curves of his cute bum perfectly), being a cheeky giggly boy while shooting his swimming scenes. 

She wheezes a cold puff of breath winding her brown overcoat closer around to keep her warm but it fails to do so and she might get a scolding from Harry for being silly and waiting outside the whole time just to watch him but she doesn't care, she's extremely proud of him and comes by the sets of My Policemen once a time she gets day off her job early. 

He paddles towards her like a penguin buried into humongous coats and towels, his brows furrowing together trying to recognize her dainty self waving him quite enthusiastically from far and his face softens at that.

Shaking his head when her teeth clanks together from the gush of stinging cold breeze. 

"Lovie'," He wraps his nippy palms around her hands bringing them to his frosty lips to blow warm air, knowing she hates cold and gets real whiny from not being able to bear it yet she stood in it for two hours for him means alot to him because his assistant told him someone was waiting for him but didn't tell it was his actual sweet baby.

"How you're not a frozen chicken yet?" She asks sighing once in the heat of his given trailer and he makes an exhultant purring noise when she cups his face, lulling it left and right playfully, "Are you okay? She queries worriedly looking down at him with batted eyes and he muses a chuckle at her sweetness. 

"Baby 'm fine -- feeling hot by the way now you're inside the van." He grins bashfully tugging her closer with his knees pulled around her legs, "You better go back home .. I don't want your cutesy bum to freeze to death." She squeaks surprisingly when he smacks her ass playfully and drags her down by pulling the lapel of her coat to smear his lips against her's fondly -- heart bigger than it's normal size at her sight making his day 100x better. 

"I brought you lunch, it's on that shelf." She tells him standing at the stairs of trailer and he waves her blowing a heartious kiss her way, "Call me when y'reach, yeah?" 

"Kay, bye!" Her awfully pretty smile covets dimples into his cheeks and he just want to throw himself into the sofa piled with blanket and scream into it like a teenager girl.

Though, she keeps sneezing through whole ride -- eyes teary, nose runny and fingers twitchy not to mention her numb toes making her feel very uncomfy. Her eyes dropping from being too sleepy and lazy. 

She's about to catch a cold. 

Tiredly she drags her feet upto their flat and doesn't even pet their kitten strawberry on the way to their bedroom and when reaches it flops over blankets snuggling into them -- without even changing into comfy clothes. 

Sirens everywhere as she wakes up with a groan holding her forehead to subside the pound in it and it's feeling like blazing alarms are going off in her head making her want to puke. 

It's dark outside. She's been napping for hours. She manages to sit on the edge of bed deciding whether she should stand up to go to washroom or not for that all she could see is floating wooden floor. 

Weakly she trudges towards the kitchen filling a glass of water and pulls out a thermometer from one of the drawers -- she was too occupied in waiting for it to beep  then checking her fever that she didn't hear Harry announcing; he's home. 

She gasps quickly shoving it under her bum, "Don't you hide that thermometer from me!" He squalls rushing towards her in two big strides of his daddy long legs and her eyes widen comically. 

"I was just checking and I don't have any kind of fever!" She squeals not letting him get hold of the thermometer and he glares down at her sternly, "You're burning up, baby." He hisses, the back of his hand pressed to her forehead. 

She stands up and does a twirl for him shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, "See 'm fine —- " Only to pass out but Harry was quick to take her fall in his arms gracefully squinting his eyes down at her.

"Yeah . . . could see how fine you're." She gives in atlast. Knowing he's going in a severe mommy mode.

"Put your arms around me — Or just fall on me, yeah that works too." She nods and let him slip his socks clad feetsie under her soles to walk them to their bedroom, he sits her down and she wails when he opens their wardrobe to get her something comfy. 

"Nooo." She bunches up into a ball as he fists her vest top to pull it over her head, "it's freezing -- 'm feeling so cold." He frowns because he's sweating his ass off from the heat. 

He sweeps her hair away from her eyes rubbing a hand down her back continuously, "It'd be a sec, pet. Then I'll warm these blankets in the drier 'n make ye' some soup, so you'd be all cosy 'n snuggly … hmm?" She's very unconvincing when sick. Wants him and just him by her side. 

She wipes her nose with her sleeve and sniffs, raising her armpits in air for him and  shivers terribly when he undressed her completely, "Oh me poor baby." He leans in to kiss the corner of her lips but she pushes him away grumpy-ly. 

"You're g'na get sick too, dummy." He pouts childishly helping her to put her legs in her fuzzy pyjamas, plants tender kisses to her ankles once covering her feet in aloe-fused socksies.

When she stands up on wobbly legs with the support of his folded thigh he almost jumps asking worriedly. 

"Where are ye' goin', missy!??" 

"To washroom." Her voice barely audible her throat achy and scratchy, "'M comin' with you." He tells her demandingly and she groans knuckling at her eyes. 

"No."

"You wanna walk by yourself? Alright, let's see that." He leaves her wrist and she gasps tripping forward from weakness -- catching the nearest furniture before the damage. 

"Moppet, stop being so stubborn and lemme take care of you … look at you, an absolute horror –-- never been this frail." He's just so caring it makes her want to cry and have a full on water-works party. He pushes her from waist to himself pecking her sweet smelling hair and takes her to washroom. 

After that he tucks her beneath two fluffy blankets and leaves her to make some soup for her and bring her medicine, "Harry!" She yowls pinching the blankets closer around her round small head and feels bad when he rushes inside in a frenzy with an utterly concerned face, serving spoon in his hand and dish rag on his shoulder. 

"What happened baby? D'ya wanna throw up? Or are you feelin' freezy, should I blow up heat?" He asks in one breath and she blushes murmuring timidly, glossy eyes still very sleepy and exhausted. 

She sneezes loudly, "I just –- achoo!! –- " Another sneeze and she messes her words horribly, " –- you — " Drool on the corner of her mouth. 

"You achoo me?" He giggles softly fetching some tissues for her and wipes her nose with them as she struggles to clean it herself. 

"'M sorry, please come back." She sighs holding in an another sneeze to avoid wetting him with her yucky stuff. 

He strokes her head for a generous moment, "It's almost cooked –- oh fuck is it burning?" He sniffs the air then looks down at her with full on saucer eyes and slaps his forehead when she raises her shoulders, "Maybe?" Thankfully not all of it got ruined and his grin was obnoxious while bringing it inside. Trying to shoo away strawberry who's pawing at the frizzes of his socks. 

She smiles up at him with hooded eyes when he hovers the spoon infront of her waiting to feed her as if she's some sort of lil baby and when she tells him it's hot he blows at it and when she still tries to make excuses he stares at her strictly, "Baby." He warns her and she obliges quickly grabbing his wrist delicately to eat and his heart jumps consciously at the fact she's still burning awfully. 

"Did you even put salt in it? It tastes like nothing."

"Please stop wasting of what's left of ye voice on complaints about soup you can't even taste." He huffs and she giggles only to drive into fits of loud coughs. He rubs her back gently and puts the tray aside when she feels like throwing up from the effect of coughs and moves the bin where she's bended over the edge of bed and his legs. 

"It's okay, hmm just let it out." He caresses her back and holds her hair away from her face -- though nothing comes out since she hasn't eaten anything from morning. 

"I hate this." There comes the first sniffle and he instantly cradles her face in his soft hands, "I know dovie' you're feeling very icky right now but it'll be better in the morning, I promise." She shakes her head coughing into her elbow. 

"I don't want to eat anymore." Her voice groggy and hoarse, he lifts her gaze up towards him scolding her with a stern frown. 

"Hey, now none of that -- you're not allowed to sleep until your belly isn't full." She groans nodding at last and he kisses her shoulder as a little reward. She isn't very bratty. Infact she's Harry's polite girl. Though, When she's he makes sure to tug her back on line but at the moment he understands that how much she's suffering. 

How much she needs him to take care of her.

Taking care of her medicines and her cough syrup he turns on the lamp laying back into heap of pillows against the headboard and spreads his knees to bunch her petite weak body against his chest and closes them when she's properly snuggled on top of him, it's one of her favourite positions to sleep in when she's sick --- clinged and cuddled to him. 

Like babies on their mommy's chest with their bums sticked out.

He tightens his arms around her hiding his face into the crook of her neck and smooches tiny kisses to her sweet spot, "You're so cute baby makes me heart-ache." 

His tranquil heartbeat never fails to lull her to sleep and his hands loving on her sides always makes her feel very warm, "You shouldn't have come to beach -- moppet. Knows your immune against cold is terrible." He whispers cheek squished over her head and she murmures sleepyly —- hands bundled up between her and his front, "Just wanted to make you feel ….. loved." Her words jumblish but full of affection and drool sticks to his sweatshirt when she mumbles against his chest. 

//

Harry didn't sleep whole night making sure she's okay, making her sip her cough syrup in betweens and massaging her head but when his eyes barely dropped and the clock hit 4 in the morning whimpers and wails started slipping out of her lips as if she's in very much pain. Which infact she's. Her body shivers vigorously in his arms and even though she's sweating her fever didn't lower down a bit. 

He has never seen her in such a bad condition. 

He perches on his elbow immediately cupping her hot rosy cheek and gives it few pats crying out worriedly, "Hey baby -- wake up." When she doesn't listen his lungs felt suffocating themselves bile forming in his throat. He throws the blanket away sitting up fully and rests her head in the nook of his elbow.

"Y/N!?" He tries not to panic when she gives him no-response and before his anxiety driven self could duck down to press his ear to her heart her eyelids fluttered barely -- blue chapped lips moving slowly. 

"'M okay, bub. Don't worry ….. " 

"Bullocks. You're not okay! You can't stop shivering!! Looks almost dead." He growls angry at her and himself for not taking her to clinic soon, "You're so fucking stubborn, pet." He mutters rageously laying her gently down on the mattress and climbs down the bed to bring their coats. Almost stomping his way all around the bedroom to collect stuff. 

This time doesn't ask her if she could walk or not and glides his arms underneath her shoulders and knees to haul her firmly against his chest -- blanket still wrapped around her shivering body. 

"Shh, shh my baby. You're g'na be okay, 'm so sorry you're in so much pain." He tries to soothe her while walking down stairs of the building. 

Turns out she caught pneumonia. They had to stay two hours at the clinic for her drip and some injections for which he had to hold her down from wiggling and squirming her way out. 

Made her rest till the fever was gone temporarily then drives them back home when assured that her condition isn't worsening and right now when she's cuddled up into his side with strawberry sleeping on his thighs he nudges her lightly.

"Dovie' I love you so much but that doesn't mean you can scare the shit outta me like that." She just mewls sinking deeper into his side.

"No more set visits fo' you." He tells her seriously and she perks her head up coughing mildly and he raises his forefinger in a demand for her to stay quite, that there's nothing to argue, "You could watch me for once 'n all at the big screen." 

"Harry……" She whines tugging the hem of his sweatshirt.

"No, Harry." He pets her head down back on the pillow. 

Without saying anything she distance herself from him like a grumpy shrimp and fusses under her breath. He supresses his amused chuckles noting the silliness of this girl and drags her back by her ankle towards him.

"Come back here, you little betrayer." He gasps dramatically and squishes her in his embrace till she gives up and herself nuzzles up into his homely scented neck. 

[pregnant-piggy]

Snow

Remus Lupin x reader      part of the dad!marauders series

Words: 6.5k

A/N: this is the most fluffy thing i have ever written. I am so happy with this. Also, re-introducing Olivia in this fic, whom we have seen before in Butterflies. She’s back because i absolutely love her and y’know for the sake of the story... Anyway, I hope you like it! Comments much appreciated! Love ya

Dinner was silent without you. The table set for two instead of three made the air in the room miss some of that cosiness you always brought along. The small light from the lamp over the dining table was reflected on the silver forks and knives that lied on the table. Two glasses with water stood next to the white plates, waiting to be emptied.

You were gone for the weekend with your mother. Your father had gotten sick a few months ago and now he was finally better, you had wanted your mother to be able to take her mind off things. You had taken her to a spa, something she always enjoyed.

This morning you had left and Olivia had been in a sad mood ever since you had stepped foot out the door. Though she went to play and acted like everything was fine, Remus could see that she wasn’t really. He was surprised with how well she could keep up that happy mask; she was only four years old after all.

Olivia sat in her own chair, that her grandpa had made specially for her. She stared at the back of her dad in the kitchen, her eyes focused on his shoulders and the way they moved to the music he had put on. She played with the stuffed wolf in her hand, the animal that had been with her since she was one year old. The colours had faded lightly in the past three years as if it had lied in the sun for a while. The grey was no longer the dark grey it used to be and the softness was now gone. But Olivia had it with her at all times.

‘Five more minutes, darling,’ Remus said and he sat down at the table in front of his daughter.

Olivia continued to play with her wolf and Remus felt a familiar, warm feeling spreading in his body. You had given the stuffed animal to her on her first birthday. Though your daughter didn’t know the real reason behind the gift, Remus did and his heart softened every time he saw Olivia play with it.

The oven pinged and Remus shot up from his chair. He was hungry; he had worked later than usual forgetting that you weren’t around to remind him to make dinner. It had been Olivia who had opened the door of his library and asked him when dinner was going to be ready.

A frozen pizza, that Remus had found at the bottom of the freezer, had been put in the oven quickly.

Olivia was quiet during dinner. She stared at her plate and picked the mushrooms of her pizza with her little fingers. The little ring that used to be yours glimmered in the light. She always wore that even when she was asleep. Sometimes Remus worried that it could hurt her in her sleep, but you always reassured him that nothing could happen.

‘Don’t you like the pizza?’ Remus asked carefully, knowing the littlest thing could upset his daughter; something she had gotten from you.

‘I do,’ Olivia sighed and dropped her slice of pizza on her plate.

‘What’s wrong, baby?’

‘I miss mommy,’ Olivia said, her voice soft and the tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

Remus got up from his chair and kneeled down next to Olivia. He put both his arms around her and allowed her to rest her head on his shoulder. His big hand rubbed her warm back and he felt a few tears through his shirt.

‘Oh, Liv,’ Remus spoke softly. ‘Mommy will be home Sunday. Don’t you want to tell her how much fun you have had with daddy?’

Olivia snuffed into Remus’ shoulder and nodded. She lifted her head from his neck and looked at him. He wiped the tears off her cheeks with his thumbs and placed a kiss on her forehead, like he used to do to you when you were sad. Olivia smiled and she turned back to her plate, eating the pizza with a small grin, while she talked to the stuffed animal that sat next to her on a chair.

Remus sat back in his chair and watched his daughter. She truly was the light in his life. He could not imagine a life without her, without her bubbly presence and her cute smiles or her giggles.

The rest of the night Olivia wasn’t sad anymore. It was Friday night so that meant that she could stay up a little later than usual. While she sat in Remus’ lap, her eyes were glued to the TV. A lousy talent show played on the screen, while Remus read his book and tried to answer Olivia’s questions at the same time.

It was nice to have some alone time with his daughter. Though it happened enough that he was alone with her, it rarely was a whole weekend. Usually it was you who was alone with Olivia, whenever Remus was away at the full moon.

Remus knew Olivia’s personality through and through; he had had years of practice with you. Your daughter was the exact copy of you to Remus. She had Remus’ eyes and hair, but the rest of her was just like you. The same nose, the same lips and the same way you smacked them when you didn’t like something. You both could act crazy in the same way and Olivia’s laugh was the same as yours.

‘Daddy?’ Olivia asked and Remus looked up from his book. Olivia had turned around between his legs and was looking at him with her big eyes. ‘What are you reading?’

Remus opened his arm so Olivia could rest against his chest and started to talk about the book he was reading, glad that it wasn’t such a complicated book. Olivia listened with interest and asked more questions. You always said that Olivia was just as a nerd as Remus and though Remus always debated the term ‘nerd’, he knew that you were right. His daughter was a smart little girl and she was interested in a great deal of things.

It wasn’t until Olivia yawned that Remus realised how late it was. He quickly closed his book and placed it on the couch while he took Olivia in his arms. He walked with her through the cold hallway and up the stairs, wondering why it was suddenly so cold.

While Olivia attempted to brush her own teeth, Remus looked for her pyjamas. He found them on her pillow neatly folded and a little note from you with a heart on it on top of them. He took the clothes and placed the note back on the pillow. With the pyjamas in his arms he walked to the bathroom, where he found Olivia on the floor with her toothbrush in her mouth, while she brushed the mouth of her stuffed wolf with another toothbrush, luckily without toothpaste.

Remus chuckled and sat down next to her. He took her small face on one hand and asked her to open her mouth so he could brush her teeth with the other hand. Olivia sang the how to brush your teeth song and Remus laughed when she accidentally bit on the toothbrush.

When he was done he helped her rinse her mouth and then he helped her into her pyjamas. Olivia shivered when her warm sweater was pulled over her head and she was left in her underwear. She crossed her arms over her body and Remus didn’t fail to notice the goose bumps all over her skin. He quickly warmed the pyjamas with a quick wave of his wand and Olivia stared at the wooden stick with her big eyes. Magic wasn’t new to her at all, you and Remus had both agreed to let your daughter get used to it while also fitting in with the muggle world, but every time she saw it her eyes lit up. She seemed to have forgotten about the cold as she asked Remus to do something.

‘Do the bubbles!’ she exclaimed and she clapped her hands in excitement as Remus casted bubbles to fly around in the small bathroom.

Once Olivia lied in bed and Remus had read her a bedtime story, she closed her eyes and fell asleep promptly. It had been a long day for her; this morning she had woken up early and it was late at night now.

Remus pressed a kiss to her head and tucked her in once again, making sure she would not get cold. Not that it would help, his daughter turned so much in her sleep that it was inevitable that the sheets would lose their embrace around her.

- - - - -

The cold night even reached to Remus when he lied in bed. He had his sweater on and even woollen socks, but his toes were still cold and he couldn't suppress a shiver every time he moved under the duvet. He couldn’t fall asleep. He didn’t know that was because it was cold or because you weren’t next to him. He had gotten so used to falling asleep with your arms around him, that it was hard to do so when you weren’t around. No matter how tired he was, he just couldn’t catch any sleep.

So instead he just lied with his eyes closed in his bed, the sheets pulled up to under his chin. It had been cold this winter, but not this cold yet. With a little luck there would maybe even be some snow tomorrow. Then he would have something to do with Olivia.

The little girl loved the snow. It didn’t happen very often that there was snow, the last time had been last year and then it was only for two days. It might have been the happiest days of Olivia’s winter. The big smile that was on her face, Remus could clearly remember.

He didn’t when he had started to drift off, but he was woken roughly by a tug on his duvet. He turned his head to see what was going on and he was faced with Olivia’s teared eyes. Immediately he sat up in his bed and pulled his daughter against his chest. She sobbed lightly in his sweater. He wrapped his arms around her and hid her cold feet under the blanket after feeling they were like ice.

‘What is wrong, love?’ Remus whispered as he placed a kiss on the top of Olivia’s head.

‘I miss mommy so bad,’ she said with a trembling voice and she hugged her wolf closer to her little chest. ‘And I’m cold.’

‘Oh, sweetheart,’ Remus mumbled. He lied back down and placed Olivia next to him. He pulled the sheets up to her chin and he wrapped his arm around her. She crawled closer to his chest and lied her head next to him on his pillow.

They lied in silence for a while, the only sound the soft sobs of Olivia, that calmed down more and more. Remus wiped away the tears from her face and rubbed her back, hoping to warm her up a little. He felt the fatigue taking over him, but he had to stay awake at least until Olivia had fallen asleep.

But Olivia did not seem to have any plans to fall asleep soon. She stared with her big eyes at Remus, who had more trouble to keep his eyes open with the minute.

‘Go to sleep, Liv,’ he mumbled and stroke his big hand over her face so she would close her eyes.

But she opened them again and now started to play with the neck of Remus’ sweater. Her little fingers ran up and down over the hem and tucked on it ever so often. Remus chuckled lightly and took her hand in his. She looked up to him and he closed his eyes for a second.

‘Close your eyes, love,’ Remus tried again and now Olivia closed her eyes, but she opened one slightly and looked at Remus. A giggle escaped her mouth as Remus sighed and shook his head. ‘Come on, Olivia! If you go to sleep now we can play in the snow tomorrow.’

Remus had said the magic words. Olivia’s eyes widened and she stared at Remus.

‘Snow? Is there snow?’ she asked excitedly.

‘There will be if you go to sleep now,’ Remus said placing a kiss on Olivia’s forehead.

She closed her eyes and soon she drifted off to sleep. Her steady breaths filled the cold bedroom and Remus finally let the sleep take over him. He knew he should carry Olivia to her own bed, but he was too tired to do so. So instead he fell asleep with his daughter hugging onto his chest, listening to his heartbeat as she dreamt of the snow.

- - - - -

As the morning sun shone through the crack between the curtains, Remus woke up with two small hands hugging his waist. He carefully removed the two hands and placed them on the stuffed wolf that lied at Olivia’s feet. He lifted the duvet a little, enough so he could slip from it and tucked it around his daughter’s small figure. He walked out of the bedroom and went to the kitchen, hoping that pancakes would make Olivia forget that her mother wasn’t around.

Soft music played through the kitchen as Remus began to make the pancakes. He was stirring the bowl when he heard soft footsteps into the kitchen. He turned around and smiled at Olivia, who stood in the doorframe clinging onto her stuffed wolf as she watched Remus with her big eyes. She slowly made her way over to her chair and as she climbed into it and dropped the wolf, she sighed dramatically. Remus couldn’t keep from chuckling, but quickly turned around and stopped as she saw the glare his daughter was giving him.

‘Do you want pancakes, Liv?’ Remus asked over his shoulder when Olivia had climbed into her chair.

Remus couldn’t see her face, since he was still bowed over the kitchen counter with his back to his daughter, but when she spoke he heard that there was a small smile on her pretty face.

‘Yes, daddy.’

Olivia climbed off her chair and ran towards Remus, hugging her arms around his legs. Remus had to hold onto the counter to not fall over at the sudden weight and he laughed softly, stroking his hand over Olivia’s head. She looked up to him with her big golden eyes and her precious smile. The smile that could make Remus do anything.

‘Here,’ Remus said and he gave to plates to Olivia. ‘Bring these to the table, while I make the pancakes.’

Olivia wobbled on her feet under the weight of the heavy plates. She placed the plates, what was for her, carefully on the table and then returned to Remus for a next task. Keeping one eye on the pancakes in the pan and the other on Olivia as she was setting the table, breakfast was soon finished.

Olivia was sitting in her chair, her knife and fork in her hands and the wolf on the chair next to her, like it had been at dinner last night. She was talking enthusiastically to it as Remus placed a platter with pancakes in between them. Olivia stopped talking as the scent of food reached her nose and a big smile appeared on her sleepy face when she saw the pancakes.

‘What do you want to do today?’ Remus asked in between bites.

‘Play in the snow!’ Olivia exclaimed and she looked over her shoulder through the window.

It had indeed snowed last night, just as Remus had thought. The street was hidden under a blanket of snow and the light blue sky that stretched out over the neighbour houses, made it seem like a little fairy tale and not the street they were living in. The edges of the window were frozen, little ice crystals making their way up to the middle of the glass.

Olivia kept staring outside, the piece of pancake on her fork staying in front of her mouth. She watched the old man that lived two houses away walk through the snow with his dog. The small animal jumped in the snow, barking happily when his legs disappeared in the snow. Olivia laughed happily and only turned back when the dog and owner had disappeared. Her pancakes had turned cold, but it didn’t seem to bother her. She wolfed the rest of her breakfast in and then looked up to her dad.

‘Done,’ she said, with her mouth full of food. She went to grab her glass with orange juice, while Remus took the last pancake on the plate. Olivia chewed fast on the pancake in her mouth, her hands clasped around the glass. She swallowed her last bite and drank her juice quickly.

‘Not too fast, you’ll get stomach ache,’ Remus said, looking at how the orange juice rapidly disappeared in his daughter’s mouth.

‘No, I won’t,’ Olivia said with her mouth still in her glass, shaking her head.

Remus sighed; he would never win this battle. Olivia was just as stubborn as you, though you always said that she had that from Remus. Maybe that said enough.

Olivia placed her glass back on the table and looked at Remus. He chuckled at the juice-moustache that had formed above her upper lip and reached over the table to wipe it away with his thumb.

‘Why don’t you pick out clothes, while daddy cleans up?’ Remus said, licking the orange juice off his finger.

Olivia fled quickly from the kitchen and Remus heard her stamping on the stairs. He collected the plates and glasses and put them in the sink, doubting whether he should do the dishes now or later. Later would be fine, he decided and left the kitchen, following his daughter’s tracks on the stairs.

- - - - -

‘Daddy look what I can do!’

Remus looked up from the bench at the front door. Olivia and him had gone outside now two hours ago and while Remus was more than done with the cold, he didn’t want to cut the fun Olivia was having. Remus hadn’t seen her this exited in a while and it warmed his heart to see his daughter with such a big smile on her face. She was jumping up and down, making snow angels in the snow and with the help of Remus she had made a snowman, who currently stood watching Olivia collect snow with her small hands and throw little snowballs at the tree in the front yard.

‘Good job!’ Remus said and he waved at Olivia as she hit the tree with her snowball.

Remus’ hands slowly had lost any feeling and the same was about to happen to his feet. He was sitting in his thickest coat on the wooden bench near the front door, a book in his hand that was long forgotten as he had noticed that Olivia was quite clumsy when it came to snow. She had fallen at least twelve times now and though it wasn’t like she had hurt herself, Remus was worried that one time she would. Besides, his fingers were too cold to even turn the pages.

After another half hour Remus thought that it had been enough. With any luck the snow would still be there tomorrow and then Olivia could play outside again. But right now Remus felt like he was made of ice and he knew that Olivia was cold too; in the small minutes that she had come to Remus to tell him something he had seen that her cheeks were getting more red and her lips more purple.

She didn’t even complain when Remus suggested they went inside for lunch and hot chocolate. She followed him back inside the warm house and sighed when the door was closed.

‘What is the matter?’ Remus asked as he took off his coat and then helped Olivia with hers.

‘Who is watching Mr. Snowman now?’ she pouted as Remus unzipped her dark blue winter coat.

‘Maybe you can look at him from the window in the living room,’ Remus said as he took of her mittens. Olivia jumped and nearly hit Remus in his face with her hands. He chuckled and bowed forward so she could lean on him while he took off her boots. Her cold hand grabbed the fabric on Remus’ sweater and the other was placed on his head when she lost her balance.

‘Left foot,’ Remus said and Olivia lifted her foot. He took off the boot and sock, that was completely wet. ‘Right foot.’ The other foot followed and the same happened. The bottom of Olivia’s leggings was wet too and Remus ordered her to take them off.

‘I’ll get you warm, dry clothes,’ he said, pulling a weird face as he smelled the sock, making Olivia laugh. ‘You go into the living room and see if Mr. Snowman is still there.’

Olivia ran off to the living room in her pink underwear and sweater and Remus quickly returned with warm pants and two different socks. Olivia was stuck at the window, her eyes focused on the snowman outside and she waved at it as if to say goodbye when Remus walked into the room.

‘I don’t know what mommy does with your socks, but I can’t find two the same,’ Remus sighed and he sat down next to Olivia on the couch. ‘Elephant on right or left?’

The girl put out her right foot and Remus put the sock on. The sock with the giraffe followed on her other foot and when the pants were put on Olivia ran back to the window, this time taking her wolf with her. Remus watched his daughter talk to her stuffed animal and admired how happy she looked. He never could have imagined to have a wife that loved him unconditionally let alone a daughter that was just as dear to him. Sometimes he wondered why he deserved it all, how could someone like him have such a happy bubble around him?

‘Do you want hot chocolate?’ Remus asked and Olivia turned around and cheered as she ran to the kitchen.

Remus followed her quickly and was surprised to find Olivia looking in the right cabinet. As she pulled out the cocoa and stood on her toes to place it on the counter, she started to babble to Remus about how you always made hot chocolate on the nights Remus was away.

- - - - -

The afternoon was filled with merry. Olivia played on her own for a while, until she wanted to know what Remus was reading. He took her in his lap and together they read a for a while. Though Olivia didn’t quite understood what the book was about, her reading was definitely improving.

Though Olivia would go to Hogwarts when she was older, Remus and you had wanted her to learn the basics, just like you two had done. You as a muggleborn and Remus as half-blood had both enjoyed the education of primary school. You wanted the same for your daughter. She was keen to learn and home school was discussed, but both you and Remus had a job and the option of going to a muggle school seemed the easier option. Plus, in that way Olivia could make friends better than when she was at home all day.

She was only four and would turn five in May, so she would not go to school until after the upcoming summer, but Remus had taken the job to teach her how to read. Luckily Olivia was a smart student and the reading went easily on her. It wasn’t much that she knew, she was yet so young, but Remus thought that every little bit would help her. And so, once a day, mostly before bed, he would read with her. It didn’t have to be long, just a page of her favourite book was enough.

After the reading, Olivia watched a film while Remus concentrated on the newspapers of this day, for which he hadn’t got the time to read yet. He was deep in an article about Gringotts new policy, when the phone ringed. Olivia was so concentrated on the talking bees from the movie that she didn’t hear it.

‘Remus here,’ Remus said and he walked to the kitchen, not wanting to disturb his daughter.

‘Hey Rem!’ your voice sounded back and Remus smiled.

‘Hey love. How is it going? Are you having fun?’

‘So much. Mom and I went to get massages this morning and we did face masks this afternoon. Oh, it is so nice here, Rem. We even have access to mimosas throughout the whole day!’ you giggled.

In the background Remus could hear your mother giggle along with you and he sniffed happily in the phone. ‘How many did you have?’

‘Just a couple,’ you said back, Remus hearing by your voice that it was definitely more than a couple. ‘How is it going at home? I heard it snowed.’

‘It did,’ Remus answered. ‘I spent the entire morning outside with Olivia and now she is watching a film. She did miss you last night, however.’

‘I miss her too. And you. I couldn’t sleep last night, though the mimosas did help a bit.’

‘I couldn’t sleep either. But we’ll see you tomorrow! Don’t worry about us, we are having fun, love,’ Remus said and he looked up when Olivia entered the kitchen. She stood hesitantly at in the doorway, her small hand resting on the door frame.

‘Who is that?’ she asked curious and tilted her head a little.

‘It’s mommy,’ Remus answered. ‘Do you want to talk to her?’

‘Mommy!’ Olivia yelled and she ran over to the phone. Remus put Olivia on the chair with the phone in her hand and then turned to the kitchen to make dinner. He listened to Olivia talk about the snowman she had made and the snowballs she had thrown at the tree.

After a while, Olivia gave the phone back to Remus after giving kisses to it. She ran back to the living room, probably to continue her film. Remus took back the phone and pressed it between his ear and his shoulder.

‘She seems to be having fun,’ you said and Remus could hear your smile through the phone.

‘I know that it isn’t how our weekends usually go, but she missed you and I couldn’t stand to see her sad.’

‘Don’t worry, dear, it’s fine.’

‘Listen, I have to finish dinner and you have to get back to your mom,’ Remus said and he put down the knife so he could take the phone in his hand. ‘I will see you tomorrow, don’t rush.’

‘Okay, I love you,’ you said.

‘I love you too.’

- - - - -

Olivia stood on a stool at the sink in the bathroom, watching herself in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. Remus stood behind her, brushing her wet hair. He had taken her in bath, hoping it would tire her a bit so she would fall asleep fast. And when he looked at her and saw her tired eyes, he realised that it had helped.

He put the brush aside and helped her brushing her teeth. She opened her mouth, but it closed more and more the longer it took and Remus had to ask her to open her mouth every time. She giggled when Remus reached the back of her mouth and the toothbrush tickled the back of her tongue. Her eyes squeezed shut and stayed there more a moment before she opened them again. Remus took the brush from her mouth and declared that it was enough for now.

In her room, Remus helped her into her warmest pyjamas, hoping that this time she wouldn’t wake up from the cold. In her pink with crocodiles pyjamas, Olivia pressed a wet kiss to Remus’ cheek and then lied down in her bed. He tucked her in tightly and her eyes closed as soon as the blankets were put over her. Remus brushed the hair out of her face and kissed her softly on her forehead. Olivia’s eyes fluttered open and she smiled at her father.

‘I love you, daddy,’ she mumbled.

‘I love you too, sweetheart,’ Remus whispered back.

Olivia put out her arms to take Remus in a hug and he leaned forward, his knees on the floor. Olivia’s small arms were wrapped around his neck and he felt her hot breath on his neck. He pulled back and placed a quick kiss on her nose. She giggled at the feeling and wiped her nose with her sleeve. Remus brushed his hand through her hair one more time and smiled at his daughter.

‘Goodnight, Olivia.’

Olivia closed her eyes and Remus left her room, keeping the door ajar so he could hear when she called for him. He went downstairs and looked at the mess in the living room. The worst part was that it was mostly his mess. Olivia had put her toys away in her toy box in the corner of the room. It was Remus’ mess that made the room look terrible. Two coffee mugs on the table, next to a few parchments and a book. On the couch lied the newspapers that he still hadn’t finished and pair of socks. The TV was still on and a dim light flickered into the room. On the desk in the corner of the room, was an even bigger mess. But Remus’ workspace was always a mess and no matter how often you asked him to clean it, he never did, knowing that it would be the same mess the minute he would start working.

So instead of being bothered by his desk, Remus cleared out the coffee table, turned off the TV and took his newspaper. He reread the article about Gringotts, since he had already forgotten what it was about, and realised that the rest of the paper was rather a lack of information.

Remus sat down at his desk, hoping to maybe get some work done. But his paper stayed empty, his mind was too tired to come up with a review now. The book he had to review lied in front of him and Remus studied the cover.

After fifteen minutes he gave up and placed himself with a cup of tea on the couch, zapping through the channels. He found a film and soon was involved in a plot of a murder, flight and criminals. The sounds of fighting sounded through the living room as Remus’ eyes were glued to the TV. Though Remus wasn’t a particular big fan of thriller movies, sometimes he could enjoy them. It was a hour or two of not thinking and just watching.

It was past midnight when the film finished with the ‘good guy’ killing the ‘bad guy’. Since the ‘bad guy’ only had killed one man, Remus wondered how good the ‘good guy’ was. He turned off the TV, turned down the lights and went upstairs.

He checked Olivia’s room and found his daughter fast asleep, her stuffed wolf in her hand and her hair around her like a halo. This was one of Remus’ favourite views. There was something so peaceful and innocent about his daughter in her sleep. It reminded him of you, the way she grabbed onto the sheets and the pucker on her lips.

Soon Remus lied in his own bed, looking through the crack between the curtains at the dark sky. It was clouded; the dark grey clouds hid the dark blue sky filled with stars. This was Remus favourite time of the month. The full moon had been two weeks ago, meaning he had yet two weeks before the next one would come. It also meant that at this moment there was no moon at all in the sky and something about that thought comforted Remus.

With his mind running off to the dark blue heavens, Remus fell asleep quickly, not bothered by the cold or your absence this night.

- - - - -

Sunday morning was spent in Remus’ bed. Olivia had crawled into your spot and she talked with her dad about what she had dreamt. Then she proceeded to wonder about Mr. Snowman and how he had slept. Remus chuckled as the listened to his daughter’s imaginary stories and closed his eyes for a moment.

‘Daddy, you’re not listening!’ Olivia cried out and she dropped her body on Remus’ chest to get him to open his eyes.

‘I am, Olivia, I am!’ he sputtered and he pushed Olivia off him.

‘Why were your eyes closed?’

‘I can listen and close my eyes at the same time,’ Remus defended himself.

Olivia sat cross-legged on the bed and shook her head with a serious look on her face. ‘Mommy says that when you close your eyes you’re not listening.’

Remus raised his eyebrow at his daughter and then burst out into laughter. He took Olivia in his arms and peppered her face with kisses. She started to giggle and tried to free herself from his grip. She squirmed in his arms and after a while Remus lessened his grip and she crawled away from him. Panting and laughing she sat at your pillow, staring at Remus with sparkly eyes.

‘Did it snow?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Remus answered; he hadn’t left his bed yet.

‘Can’t you look?’

‘I can look, but so can you.’

‘But I’m too small!’ Olivia exclaimed and a smirk crossed on her face.

Remus shook his head chuckling and he pulled the sheets of his body. Immediately the cold found its way to his warm body and he shivered. Quickly he put on his sweatpants and a different sweater. He helped Olivia off the bed and lifter her on his hip. She pulled the curtains aside and looked outside.

‘Snow!’ she exclaimed happily when she saw the white backyard. She pressed her nose to the glass and looked at the snow.

Remus put her down again and she ran to her room, taking the same clothes as yesterday and throwing them on Remus’ bed. She pulled her pyjamas over her head and struggled to put the sweater on herself. Remus sat down on his knees in front of her and guided her head through the hole. An enthusiastic head popped out from the neck of the sweater and Remus laughed before pressing a kiss to Olivia’s forehead.

‘Can I play outside? Please?’ she asked.

‘You can, but first we need to eat breakfast, darling,’ Remus said as he helped Olivia into her leggings.

She didn’t waste a minute and as soon as her sock were on, she rushed downstairs to the kitchen. Remus followed her and found her in the kitchen with the box of cereal in her hands. He took it from her and placed it on the table.

‘Go sit down.’

Olivia followed his order and sat down in her chair, for once haven forgotten her stuffed animal. She waited patiently for Remus to put down two bowls and give her a spoon. He put the cereal in her bowl and the milk followed after. She dove into her breakfast and spilled some milk on the table in doing so. Remus cleaned it with a flick of his wand and Olivia looked amazed at the now clean spot.

After breakfast Olivia ran outside and Remus had to call her back to put on her coat and mittens. As he zipped up the coat while Olivia was jumping up and down in her excitement to go outside, he said: ‘I am going to do the dishes, will you be careful?’

Olivia nodded and captured her dad’s mouth with a quick kiss before she hurried outside. Remus stood in the door and watched for a moment as Olivia started to dance around the snowman. After making sure nothing could happen to her, Remus turned back inside and put on the kettle as he charmed the dishes to do themselves. He glanced at today’s newspaper and then decided to take it outside.

With his tea in one hand and the newspaper under his arm, Remus sat down on the bench again, making a promise with himself not to stay out so long as yesterday. But his promise was soon forgotten as he watched Olivia play. He charmed his tea to stay warm so his fingers wouldn’t freeze this time.

Time passed quickly. Olivia was making snow angels in the snow and decorating them with things she found in the garden and Remus was reading the newspaper, that just like yesterday, had not much in it. His attention was pulled away from an article about illegal transport across the Atlantic Ocean by a creak of the fence. He looked up and was surprised to see you.

‘Mommy!’ Olivia cheered when she noticed her mother. She got up from her spot, where she had been on her knees drawing faces in her snow angel, and jumped in your arms. You dropped your bag and caught Olivia.

‘Liv, be careful with your mom,’ Remus said as he came closer.

You shifted Olivia over to the side and kissed Remus. He took your bag and brought you inside. Olivia was talking happily about what she had done this weekend and didn’t stop when you put her down and took off your coat.

‘Come on, darling, give mommy some time,’ Remus chuckled as he took of Olivia’s coat. ‘Why don’t you go to the kitchen and grab the things we need for the hot chocolate?’

Olivia smiled and ran to the kitchen, nearly slipping on her wet socks. Remus hung up her coat and then turned to you. He wrapped arms around you and you buried your face in his sweater.

‘I didn’t expect you so early,’ Remus said as you pulled away and took off your shoes.

‘It was this train or one later at night and actually we were both a bit done at the spa. So we decided to take the early train. I dropped mom off at home,’ you said as you walked with Remus to the kitchen.

There you found Olivia proudly standing in front of the counter. She had the cocoa in her hands and was waiting for Remus to help her. He lifted her and placed her on the counter. Together they made the hot cocoa while you sat at the dining table and talked about your trip.

When the hot chocolate was done and all three of you were sitting at the table, Olivia continued to talk about her weekend. Remus smiled at her and nodded along. He looked at you and you glanced back with a smile on your face. It was good to be home.

- - - - - 

taglists:

dad!marauders: @wassup-peoples​ @iamak20​

Remus: @racerparker @susceptible-but-siriusexual

marauders: @secretsthathauntus @ronniethelost @sognatrice-as-a-hobby @hxrgreeves @wecouldbreakthedistance @valentina-007

general HP: @kitkatkl @girllety @yuptha-tsme @sleep-i-ness @iamak20 @thefuturelawyer @weasleydream @missmulti @deafgirltingz @moonstarrnghtsky @bloodblossom73 @mytreec @lilulo-12fanfiction @emmaloo21 @kashishwrites @ananad1

let me know if you want to be added/removed!

MASTERLIST

[jawabear]

He’ll be back at Christmas time (Maxwell Lord X Reader)

Not My GIF

A/N: this was kind of inspired by another great Christmas song called 2000 miles. I just like the one line that I used for the title. I hope you enjoy this happier Christmas fic, and thank you @ahopelessromanticwritersworld for the name of Max’s dog, I think it’s perfect. Also the other dog I used is actually entirely based on my doggy whom I love more than anything so...yeah. I hope you enjoy. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: fluff

Warnings: fem!reader, dogs (I don’t think that counts but oh well), Max doesn’t come into it till nearer the end, dogs being dogs, a hint of angst, suggestiveness as the end but nothing explicit, Max playing with dogs, Pedro Pascal comes with his own warning

Summary: ‘Twas the night before Christmas, and she sits alone, all she can wonder, is when will he be home..

The fire place crackled gently and the snow fell outside as she sat on the plush sofa reading her book. It was one she had read a thousand times but she never got bored of it. She was dressed in her warmed pyjamas, fluffy socks on her feet, a mug of hot chocolate (fixed with cream and mini marshmallows of course) was set on the coffee table in front of her, and the large Christmas tree shimmer and sparkles in the corner of the room. And beside that, two dog beds. One for her dog, a black Labrador called Rosie and Max’s dog, a small Pomeranian called Marlene.

The cozy scene she had made her self however was not enough to warm her completely. Part of her would be cold until Max returned home. But she didn’t know when he would. He said he’d be gone for two weeks on an “important business trip”. That was three weeks ago.

She became sad at the thought of him. He had been away so many times, she of course had always missed him but not as much as she was this time. Perhaps it was mainly down to the fact she adored the Christmas season and she wanted to spend the whole this with her lovely Max. It wasn’t their first Christmas together but still, she wanted him there. She is the dogs there with her too, but they were fast asleep in their comfy beds. A fat lot of good that did her the help. But it was very cute to see. Especially as Marlene had decided to curl up with Rosie and sleep.

The book suddenly became uninteresting the more she thought about Max. She bookmarked her page and placed it on the coffee table and swapped it for her hot chocolate hoping that her favourite drink would cheer her up. She took a sip of it and tried to focus on just that but a memory from a few years ago popped into her head.

They sat opposite the fire place, it was Christmas Eve and she could barely contain her excitement for the big day. She had convinced him to swap his usual coffee for a mug of hot chocolate instead. He was reluctant to agree because he couldn’t say no to her. She had made one with the works. Cream and marshmallows and flakes of chocolate to top it off. She sat on the floor in front of him eagerly watching him lift the mug to his lips to take a sip. He seemed impressed by the face and the noise he made.

“It’s good” he nodded “it I do prefer my coffee”

She laughed softly as she got of the floor and straddled his legs, his hands immediately resting on her hips “your nose says otherwise” she giggled.

“What do you mean?” He asked with the tilt of his head. She ran her finger over the tip of his nose collecting the cream that was there and show it to him before she slipped the finger into mouth to clean it.

“You’re cute Max” she smiled and she leaned down to press a kiss to his lips.

She smiled at the memory but it didn’t make her feel any better. If anything it made her feel worse. The fact that it was Christmas Eve now and he wasn’t there to recreate that memory really hurt her. She felt so lonely.

She stood from the sofa and made her way over to the phone in the corner of the living room. The dogs shot up when she moved, making her question if they were asleep at all, and followed her to the phone. She knew the number to Max’s office off by heart. She dialled it quickly and stood patiently waiting for an answer. She didn’t expect Max to answer but she hoped that the one who did answer would have an answer as to where he was.

The phone rang with the full tone until it stopped “Maxwell Lord’s office, how can I help?” She knew that voice. It was the voice of his personal assistant Ella. She had worked there when (Y/N) was Max’s personal assistant. She was a very sweet but timid girl, not quite what Max liked but now he had (Y/N), he didn’t care about any one else.

“It’s (Y/N)” (Y/N) said trying to hide her sadness.

“Miss (L/N), Hello. What can I help you with?” Ella said politely, knowing that if she didn’t speak politely, Maxwell would know and she would loose her job in seconds.

“Do you know where Max is?” (Y/N) asked “he was meant to be gone for two weeks but he’s still not home”

“As far as I’m aware he is still on his trip. He hasn’t been in the office since he left and there hasn’t been any news of him coming back home”

“I see...” (Y/N) looked to the two dogs who sat at her feet. She reached out and began stroking Rosie, Marlene was too far down for her to reach.

“I can tell that’s not the news you wanted to hear” Ella said with a sympathetic laugh.

“No, not really” (Y/N) sighed “but thank you anyway. It’s getting late, you should be heading home. Why are you still working anyway?”

“I just got a few more papers to do and then I’ll leave”

“Good. Make sure you let me know if Max is making you work to hard. I know how difficult he can be”

“Oh no! It’s fine! I really don’t mind the work”

“That doesn’t matter. Don’t forget that I was in your position once”

“Really it’s fine. I enjoy it” (Y/N) could hear the smile in her voice.

“Yes, well, you let me know if he does get too much for you”

“I will” Ella said. “And don’t worry, I’m sure Mr Lord will be home for tomorrow”

“I hope so...” (Y/N) said sadly “you have a good Christmas Ella”

“You too”

(Y/N) put the phone down feeling more disheartened then she did before. She really hoped Max would be home for Christmas Day. She looked sadly at Rosie who seemed to notice the sadness so she rested her head on (Y/N)’s lap. “He’ll be back soon...” she whispered, more to her self than the dog, but she needed the reassurance that he would be back home.

Marlene started to bark and jump about, clearly either being jealous of lack of attention or she was hungry. Now she thought about it, (Y/N) was pretty hungry too. (Y/N) chuckled and lifted the tiny dog into her arms and carried her out to the kitchen, Rosie following close behind.

After the dogs, and herself, had been fed, she made her way back into the living room, back to the sofa where she was joined by both dogs. Marlene on her lap and Rosie at her feet. Max didn’t really like having Rosie on the sofa, only because she was a larger dog, where as Marlene was much small and could fit on your lap, Rosie couldn’t but she certainly tried too. At first, (Y/N) just thought Max hated her dog because he was slightly scared of it when they first met, but recently he had been the one calling her up to sit with him. But even before that, if he wasn’t there, she would call Rosie up to sit with her.

She sat and watched the hours go by, that hands on the clock getting closer and closer to midnight. And with each tick she became more and more anxious and sad. With each tick she believed more and more that he wouldn’t be home for Christmas.

She could’ve cried. She didn’t really know why she was getting so upset. She knew that this was bound to happen at some point in their relationship, especially since his company was getting bigger and bigger, but it just didn’t feel right to celebrate such a holiday without him.

11:32pm and he still wasn’t home. The fire had died our and her hot chocolate had been forgotten and was now stone cold, that made things worse. She let out a sigh as she lifted Marlene of her lap and set her on the sofa beside Rosie and took her cold hot chocolate out to the kitchen to throw it away. She rinsed out the cup and put it in the dishwasher.

Barking was heard from both dogs as well as the pattering of feet as they both ran to the front door. (Y/N) was confused as to what got them barking, she was also a little hesitant that it was someone bad, they didn’t usually bark if it was someone they knew. She took cautious steps out of the kitchen heading into the foyer to see what was going on.

Her heart leapt out of her chest at the sight.

It was Max.

He laughed and shook the snow out of his hair, talking to the dogs as they leapt up at him, their tails going crazy and they desperately tried to her his attention in their excitement to see him again.

“Yes yes, I’m happy to see you too” he chuckled as he bent down to pick up Marlene who began licking his face whilst he pet Rosie on the head. Max loved his dog, (Y/N) often wondered whether he loved Marlene more than he did her, his face was always brightest when he was with the dog. But he always assured (Y/N) that he loved her the most. “Silly girl” he said softly as he kissed the dog on the head. He put Marlene down and turned his attention to Rosie he began sniffing his face.

Max hadn’t noticed (Y/N) yet but she didn’t want him to stop with the dogs just yet, it made her happy to see him with them, being his true self. “And you,” he said as he began stroking both sides of her face down to the neck repeatedly “pretty girl” Marlene was still jumping at him. “Yes you are. You are such a beautiful girl, just like your mother” he smiled letting Rosie lick his cheek. He stood back up and then his eyes landed on (Y/N) who was smiling fondly at him.

He walked quickly over to her and took her face between his hands “hello, my love” he said quietly.

“I thought you weren’t coming home” she whispered, trying not to sound sad, but it was hard not to when she was on the verge of tears.

Seeing they were going to get no further attention, the two dogs wandered off back into the living room. Neither (Y/N) nor Max cared if they ended up on the sofa or in their beds.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N)” he brushed a piece of hair behind her ear before caressing her cheek with the back of his hand “some idiot,” he hissed “got the schedule wrong. We would’ve been back the 29th. And it being Christmas, it was nearly impossible to get back. I’m so sorry”

“It’s okay” she said “your here now. That’s all that matters” he didn’t hesitate a moment more before smashing his lips to hers “I’m so glad your back” she hummed wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers coming to entangle in his soft blonde hair.

“I’m so glad to be back” he mumbled, his hands dropping from her cheeks to her hips where he gently pushed her back onto the doorframe which she was stood in. “I love you” he said between kisses as he tilted his head to get a better angle, his tongue making an appearance.

“Love you too” she managed to get out before his tongue slipped into her mouth. She moaned and tugged at his hair. He groaned at this and pulled his mouth off hers and moved it to her neck when he began to make love to the skin there. “Oh Max” she sighed happily.

“I missed you” He muttered “missed you so fucking much. Every day was torture with out you”

“Never leave me for that long again” she told him.

“I won’t” He told her back as she pulled away from her next to look into her eyes “and if I have to be gone for that long again, you’re coming with me” She smiled and pecked his lips softly. “Now, let’s go upstairs so I can give you an early Christmas present”

She smirked and held a finger up to him to stop him from doing anything. She slowly unbuttoned her pyjama shirt revealing a red lacy number that she had bought especially for him, especially for Christmas.

He practically drooled at the sight, his knees becoming weak as he let out a strangled moan before lifting her into his arms, making her squeak excitedly, and carried her upstairs.

21/12/20

[imagines-mha]

class 1-B and night routines

Monoma: if monoma doesn’t annoy at least 2 people per night he simply will not sleep. Wears the comfiest pyjamas- like a 100% cotton top and plaid pj bottoms and everyones so fuckin jealous. He tells everyone he has a 16 step self-care routine he does every night but he really just brushes his teeth and then sits on his phone for like 2 hours? Ike what do you GET out of lying??? 

Tetsutetsu: he thinks going to bed after 11pm is criminal. Literally doesn’t understand the cryptidcrew™️ who DONT MF SLEEP. Works out before bed which is 👌🏻👌🏻 OOF. Aw hes the type of friend to make everyone tea and toast and send them asmr videos if they cant sleep i love him. He usually spends his night dancing around with pony and working off all his ENERGY

Kendo: “yall im turning into bed i’m too tired for this shit” “kendo it’s 7pm”

My girl will retire to her room as early as she can (usually with the rest of the girls) and she just RELAXES. Like self-care to the max: paints her nails, watches tv, plans her tomorrow, showers. She’s usually asleep at 10pm and wakes up the next morning full energy I want what she has

Awase: he has the WORST sleep schedule like fr. Literally sits up on tiktok until 3am and he’s just like “oh shit i’m up at 7…” *continues scrolling* like bro GET UR ASS TO BED U HAVE TRAINING AT 6AM. His night routine ain’t anything special- he sleeps in sweats and always keeps his window open (although someone told him about banshees once and now hes lowkey terrified lmao)

Kaibara- the type to fall asleep on the sofa and wake up at 4 in the morning to find tsuburaba in the kitchen eating a full course meal and he just SIGHS and goes up to bed in the worst mood bc why tf are his friends so WEIRD. Likes to watch the stars and edit pictures before he sleeps- its so therapeutic to him and also productive so he’s winning

Rin- he drinks coffee every night after midnight and then goes “oh my fuck shit i just drank coffee why am i like this” like congrats u fuckin dumbass now u ain’t gonna sleep. And he never fuckin learns. Always does his hw at like 11pm, Also stays up way too late binge-watching star wars smh 

Tsuburaba: he gets up every night and treats himself to a three-course meal in the kitchen no cap no sound awareness my man will be blending shit full blast at 2 in the morning. Usually falls asleep sitting at the kitchen table and he 👏🏻 needs 👏🏻 a 👏🏻 chiropractor 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻. Also always forgets to do his homework until everyone’s packing up to go to bed and hes like “please,, anyone,, the math?”. Shoda wants to punch him so bad

Ibara: the most well-structured person in the entire building. At 7pm she has her shower, at 8:30pm she goes to pray, at 9:30pm she journals and draws to calm her mind, and at 10pm she meditates until she falls asleep- which is usually 10:20pm.. Everyone wants her self control and independance like damn how does she FUNCTION. Also queen of vegan self-care remedies 

Pony: girl is chaotic as fuck it’ll be like 10pm and rin’s like “yo pony can i copy the hw??” And shes like “WHAT HOMEWORK.” . *cue two idiots freaking tf out*. She’s always wearing matching pj sets and fluffy socks and loves sliding around in them like a dork. Dances every night before bed to tire herself out like shes just in the lounge deadass vibing to taylor swift and a new person joins her everytime . people would be dead without her

Kodai: movies every night or she won’t go to class the next morning. Shes always just sitting on her phone w earphones in like she has absoloutely no time to deal with monoma’s shit so she just peaces tf out of existence. Cutest pyjamas ever i love her pyjama queen. The go-to girl for homework she just leaves her bag open, as long as u return it shes cool

Tokage: oh my god shes so CRYPTIC and FOR WHAT. Pranks pranks pranks pranks pranks. everyone hates her for it and she loves it so bad. Like she has the balls to prank kamakiri and that TAKES BALLS LET ME JUST SAY . she’ll just leave her body parts in people’s beds and its SO annoying. They usually just pick up her stray arm and fling it at the wall in revenge then act confused the next morning when she complains abt the bruises 

Komori: cryptic as fuck. Does she sleep? Why is she always sitting at the table? What is she doing? . Closes her tabs whenever someone comes into the dining room and just stares at them til they leave again like :)). In the garden every night til she can’t bear the coldness- watches the stars and makes flower crowns and worships the moon i love her

Kuroiro: nighttime is the time he just evaporates like where tf is he like 🙄🙄 reel it in randy from monsters inc . Hiding in the walls and listening to everyones conversations and secrets is his only skill in life . Everyone thinks he doesn’t sleep and just wanders around (he does, he just likes to have an edgy reputation)

Kamakiri- did you hear that?? oh its just kamakiri fistfighting monoma in the hallway again. Fr takes no prisoners he needs his beauty sleep (or idk do bugs sleep lmao??). If you’re in his way while he’s RAMPAGING to his room youre dead bro when i say he takes bedtime routines seriously i MEAN it. He does self-care and tells NOONE but its lowkey cute idk lmao why do i have a crush on a bug lemme call my therapist real quick

Bondo- 9pm. Wind down time. A good book is all my mans needs and he’ll be out for the count in absolutely no time at all. Fukidashi will die jealous and bondo fucking loves it. Milks tf out of it too he’s like YAWN I AM SO TIRED OFF TO BED NOW TO SLEEP PEACEFULLY GOODNIGHT and everyone who WISHES they could sleep as early as that wants him to choke

Manga- king of never having hw done until 1am at the earliest 🤡. He lives on 1 hour sleep most nights and his speech bubble just says “no <3” until like 11am. Its cus of his crippling hyperactivity he’s running the halls at 3am practicing the entire mamma mia choreography ffs fukidashi U HAVE A CAREER AHEAD OF U 

Reiko: energy drink addiction 101 if she doesn’t drink monster every night before bed she’s convinced she’ll die. “I sleep all day and party all night” she says, crying over math hw at 2am. Plays music too loud and has LED strobelites on ALL NIGHT. Shes deadass doing witchcraft in the lounge w komori all night during finals week she doesnt give a single fuck x

Shishida: another reader,, mans will finish an entire book in a night by the force of sheer willpower alone. Takes a bath every night and it makes his fur so fluffy and smell like apples smdnwjdnwd. Perfect snuggle buddy for wintertimes (pony LOVES HIM) and he’s that good man who carries tsuburaba to bed when he falls asleep at the kitchen table

Shoda: “please don’t speak to me while im doing my homework im 👌🏻 this close to having a mental breakdown and all it takes is a single poke to reel me over the edge.” Complains all day about being tired then goes to bed at 2am?? Like no shit ofc ur tired bitch . Always up for a deep talk at night he knows EVERYTHING abt EVERYONE and hes so trustworthy hed never tell a soul

Honenuki: he meal preps and does yoga before bed 🤢 like WHO HAS THAT MOTIVATION. Irons and sets his uniform out for the next day before getting his homework FINISHED by 9pm . He’s pretty flexible w what he does at nights it 100% depends on his mood. Usually he’s helping Tokage with pranks or working out w tetsutetsu tho. Used to annoy people who were up doing hw after 11 like “really tsuburaba? You should be ashamed”. Shoda almost DECKED him once for it tho and he was #traumatised and never did it again

[artificialqueens]

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 9 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n: right. i have no words. u all deserve this chapter after last week’s anguish….so as we say in my homeland…here wi…here wi…here wi fuckin go xo

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

8th November 2020

The rain has got worse.

It’s evolved from drizzle into a full-scale downpour, but Vanessa supposes it’s covering up the tears that are streaming down her face as she walks down the streets with only the orange of the streetlamps lighting her way in the dark. Her jumper is still in the rehearsal studios and she’s soaked to the skin, her hair plastered against her scalp and feeling much the same as if she’d just jumped in the shower.

She is so confused and hurt. Brooke has been so kind to her, she’s been supportive and caring and brought her flowers, for fuck’s sake, flowers that Vanessa’s still holding in her grasp but perhaps she should let go because let’s face it, she’s got to let go. Vanessa was so so sure she hadn’t misread the signals but…maybe she was wrong about the whole thing, maybe she was wrong about Brooke’s feelings.

She feels so embarrassed.

She gets to the end of the road and sighs. Her phone is in the pocket of her sweatpants and when she brings it out it’s immediately covered in raindrops. It takes her three attempts to unlock it in the rain and before she knows it she’s scrolling to Monique’s contact and ringing her. She’s lucky that Monique lives close by, and before she picks up the phone Vanessa has already made the decision to start walking in the direction of her flat.

“Hello hello?”

Vanessa takes a shaky breath in because she’s got absolutely no idea what her voice will sound like when she speaks. “Mo, I need to come round. I wouldn’t ask and I know it’s late an’ you’re probably exhausted but I…I really need a friend right now.”

There isn’t even a single pause between what Vanessa says and Monique’s response. Her voice replies instantly, comforting and reassuring and urgent all at once. “Come straight round. You want wine or tea?”

“I don’t even know. Tea maybe,” Vanessa shrugs, supposing that a hangover would be the last thing she needs tomorrow considering she’ll also have to face Brooke again.

“Gotcha. See you in five, boo.”

Even the small chat she’s had with Monique has made her tears dissipate slightly. It helps Vanessa feel reassured as she quickly crosses the road, her feet landing in all different depths of rapidly-forming puddles. By the time she’s outside Monique’s stairwell and pressing its buzzer, she feels like a submerged sponge.

“Come right up.”

Vanessa takes the stairs two at a time and when she gets to Monique’s door her friend is already holding it open. Maybe it’s because she’s seeing a friendly, kind face or maybe it’s because she can finally let out her emotions in peace but when she gets to Monique she falls into her arms for a hug and starts to cry all over again. Monique holds her steadily, not even making any comment about the fact the pink flannel pyjamas she’s wearing are getting drenched by proxy from Vanessa’s half-drowned frame. After a few moments spent this way, Vanessa feels Monique step away and motion her into the flat.

“C’mon, girl.”

Vanessa follows Monique into her bedroom. She’s been here before, probably hundreds of times, but the fairy lights and soft, patterned cotton bed sheets and heavy, dark curtains are comforting to Vanessa, helping her feel relaxed. She’s standing in the middle of the room as Monique looks at her with a single raised eyebrow of confusion, taking in her drenched clothes and mascara train tracks that adorn her cheeks and the bouquet of flowers that she’s still holding in her right hand. Vanessa can almost see the cogs in Monique’s brain turning.

“Alright,” she begins slowly. “Plan of action…I’m gonna make us tea. While I’m doin’ that, you’re gonna take a shower an’ borrow a set of my pyjamas. Make sure you choose comfy ones, Lord knows you need ‘em. Uh, I’ll take these too, I guess? Put ‘em in water.”

Monique points at the flowers and Vanessa wordlessly gives them to her. Monique examines them with an appreciative gaze.

“Huh. Heliotrope an’…somethin’ else, I don’t know that one.”

Vanessa scrunches her face up. Monique’s just given her the first laugh she’s had in the past half hour. “Since when were you the queen of horticort…horitic…plant knowledge?”

Monique quirks her a smile. “Hey, if you get given enough bouquets after dance competitions you start to recognise a flower or two.”

Vanessa shrugs in agreement and, as Monique leaves the room, she does what she’s told. She jumps into Monique’s en suite, strips down and takes a hot shower. On top of being wet outside it had also been freezing, so the warm water and all the steam feel like a big hug both physically and mentally. Vanessa grabs one of the clean fluffy towels that sit on the small bamboo shelves Monique’s put up and wraps it around herself as she pads back through to the bedroom. She’s been friends with Monique for so long that she knows which of the old battered wooden antique drawers holds which item of clothing (top drawer underwear and socks, second drawer down is tops, third drawer down is bottoms and bottom drawer is pyjamas) so she grabs a soft cotton pair of pyjamas that’s comprised of an oversized t shirt and some long, baggy pyjama pants. She tucks herself up into a little ball on the bed and the moment she’s finally comfy Monique returns with two steaming mugs of tea and a packet of biscuits tucked into the crook of her elbow and pinned to her side.

“You turned up on my doorstep at the right time, girl, I got the good shit earlier on today,” Monique smiles as she hands Vanessa her mug and gets herself comfortable under the duvet next to her, pointing at the biscuits which seem to be more chocolate than biscuit. Monique offers them to Vanessa, and she declines before Monique shrugs and rips into the packet herself. As she bites into one, she gives Vanessa a questioning and concerned gaze. “You wanna talk about it?”

Vanessa hums as she thinks, winces a little as the memory of what has happened barges into her mind again. She is momentarily distracted by the wet tendrils of hair dripping through her pyjama top, the towel-drying only doing so much. She turns to Monique and pouts. “Can you braid my hair an’ I can vent?”

“Sure, doll.”

So Vanessa vents. Tells her everything, the whole situation. Monique listens and by the time Vanessa is done her hair is in two perfect braids.

“So you’re tellin’ me-” Monique begins, once Vanessa is finished talking. “- that you were a cryin’ mess when you went for the kiss?”

Vanessa scrunches up her face in a frown. “I guess so?”

“Well, bitch!” Monique shoves her and lets out a huge exasperated sigh. “Why else you think she pushed you away? Would you wanna smooch with someone cryin’ their damn eyes out?”

Vanessa pauses as she considers Monique’s words. She might have a point, but then again she didn’t see the look Brooke had given her. In Vanessa’s mind, the only possible explanation is that Brooke is disgusted with her, she’d read all the signals wrong, and that she’s probably phoned up a producer already and quit the show.

Okay, maybe she’s being a little dramatic.

Vanessa doesn’t answer Monique’s question. Instead she reaches for the phone she’s discarded on Monique’s bedside table, looks at her notifications.

2 missed calls: Brooke Lynn

B: Vanessa I’m so sorry

B: If you want to just forget it all happened that’s okay, just please don’t be embarrassed xxx

Vanessa reads the text over again. The wording of the second one is weird and it messes with her head. The fact that the ball’s in her court, the fact Brooke is telling her not to be embarrassed, the kisses…

No. Don’t get your hopes up, bitch.

“She text you?”

Vanessa sighs, feels her whole body deflate like a balloon. She nods, wordlessly passes Monique the phone. She watches her eyes dart over it quickly, Monique’s face smirking as she hands her the phone back.

“Oh my God, Vanjie. She’s panicking just as much as you are.”

“Panicking ‘cuz she’s partnered with some crazy bitch tryna pull moves on her when she’s a professional just there to take part in a competition,” Vanessa huffs. She feels herself pout a little as she looks down at her phone. “I really liked her, Mo.”

“Will you stop usin’ past tense? It’s not over! You gotta go in there tomorrow morning, hold your head high, be a professional an’ act like nothing’s happened.”

Vanessa suddenly has a thought. “Oh my God.”

“What?”

“I choreographed a fuckin’ Argentine Tango.”

Monique lets out a howl of a laugh as Vanessa puts her head in her hands and sinks down against the pillows. If Brooke thought their Salsa was hot Vanessa doesn’t even know how she’s going to react when she reveals the dance they’re doing tomorrow.

And tomorrow rolls around quickly. Vanessa drags herself into the studios, borrows rehearsal clothes from Monique which are ever-so-slightly too small for her but are preferable to wearing the crumpled outfit she’d been wearing in the rain yesterday. Monique flanks her as she walks with her from her flat, keeping her distracted with mindless chatter and silly jokes which Vanessa pretends to laugh at. Monique doesn’t seem to mind the fake laughter though, and when they arrive at the studios she gives Vanessa a tight hug and tells her to text her to tell her how things go.

Vanessa waits. She paces the rehearsal room and thanks God that they don’t have their filming slot first that day. She barely slept the night before, her mind racing as she tried to figure out how to play the situation, and she’s concluded that if Brooke is giving her the option to pretend that Sunday never happened she’s going to take her up on that. Though she feels her already flimsy resolve breaking down as she finally sees Brooke enter the room, her face pale and her eyes puffy indicating a similar lack of sleep. Her hair hasn’t been brushed and her ponytail is what can only be described as bumpy, stray hairs sticking up from her scalp at all angles. She’s wearing a huge baggy hoodie with her exercise leggings and it’s swallowing her up, though from her expression it seems as if Brooke doesn’t mind.

For a moment there’s a sort of standoff. Vanessa waits for Brooke to speak first and it seems as if Brooke is doing the same for her. It’s Vanessa that finally speaks first, her guilt overtaking her.

“Morning,” she says simply. It’s only then that she registers the fact that Brooke is carrying a plastic bag.

“Hey. You, uh. You left your jumper and your speakers, so I brought them in today.”

“Thanks.”

Vanessa scuffs her shoe against the floor, casts her eyes to the ground. Brooke seemingly takes this as her cue to speak.

“Do you want to talk about what happened yesterday?”

Vanessa cringes. She hopes she doesn’t do so visibly. She casts her eyes back up to Brooke, makes sure she’s got eye contact when she delivers her words. “Why, what happened yesterday?”

Brooke frowns, opens her mouth as if to remind her then snaps it closed again as she clearly realises what Vanessa wants to do. She gives a small smile which doesn’t meet her eyes. “Nothing.”

“Okay,” Vanessa nods curtly. She takes a deep breath, because Brooke is still her dance partner and they’re still competing and they’re still going to be on TV in six days’ time, so she pulls her shoulders back and fixes her with the best smile she can manage. “Let’s warm up. Then I’ll tell you what we’re doin’ this week.”

The kiss doesn’t get brought up again. That’s good. Vanessa’s glad. There’s nothing to say, so instead of talking they rehearse. They rehearse and rehearse and rehearse and they barely talk apart from that. Vanessa saves her communication for her choreography, in touches and Ochos and the way her body moves in Brooke’s hold. Vanessa’s still marking the majority of the dance, careful not to push herself too far, but she makes sure to put extra effort in when she’s teaching Brooke the Ganchos and they hook their legs together. Vanessa is sure Brooke gets extra quiet during those sections, and her eyes go all dark and heavy. She wants to believe Brooke likes her, wants to believe maybe she did want to reciprocate their kiss on Sunday, but the last time she got her hopes up that high Brooke had pulled away so she’s wary of doing so again. Still, though, the Argentine suits Brooke. The way she takes control and leads, the power in everything she does. Vanessa’s head is already a concrete mixer of emotions and horny is one she really doesn’t want to have to add to the list, but when Brooke puts one arm around her waist, lifts her up and drags her across the rehearsal room floor while Vanessa’s thigh is hooked over her hip it’s hard not to have some sort of visceral reaction.

The tension builds over days. They’ve been entirely professional all week, not even exchanged so much as a text and it’s eating Vanessa up inside. So when it gets to late evening on Wednesday and it’s dark outside and Vanessa has peeled off her jumper and sweats and is wearing a pair of little cycling shorts and a sports bra to rehearse in, she honestly doesn’t know how it’s going to go when she suggests a full run of the dance.

“If we get it so that we’re nailing it by tonight then we got Thursday, Friday an’ Saturday morning to polish it,” Vanessa explains to Brooke as she walks over to her phone and makes to re-start the music.

“Sure. Sounds good,” Brooke nods easily. She adjusts the table and chair that they start off their dance with, makes sure the napkin is in place. Vanessa swallows her anxieties and presses play, dashing over to the chair and sitting down in it.

“Full energy, okay?” she reminds Brooke, although she’s not sure she needs a reminder given that Brooke’s been putting her all into even tiny counts of eight.

The music starts and on the first beat Vanessa stretches out, places her hand against the table. Right on cue, Brooke has grabbed her forearm. Vanessa whips her head around to face her and Brooke draws their faces close with the palm of her hand flat against Vanessa’s cheek. Their eyes connect and for a second, Vanessa thinks she can see what looks like longing in the dark of Brooke’s pupils.

It’s just the dance. She has to be imagining it.

As quickly as she’s there Brooke is suddenly gone, spinning around and slamming her hand against the napkin in time with Vanessa. They raise it up so it’s level between them and Vanessa uses it to twirl in close to Brooke, their bodies instantly pressed together. Brooke’s got both hands on the napkin now and she’s using it to keep Vanessa close to her as she leans back then spins between Brooke’s left and right side. As Brooke lets go of the prop with one hand and Vanessa twirls across to the other side of the ballroom, she watches her scrunch the napkin up and slam it to the floor. The action makes her catch her breath. Brooke’s a good actress, and they’ve done this section hundreds of times, but the passion and frustration with which she’s doing it this time almost knocks Vanessa off balance.

Is she…? No.

They reach the section where they’re in hold but showing off the footwork. Vanessa doesn’t do it all, only makes sure she’s connecting legs with Brooke for the Ganchos, but it’s probably for the best as the eye contact they’re giving each other and the close proximity between their faces is almost burning. Part of Vanessa wants to look away it’s so intense, but they’re running the full dance and she did tell Brooke to give full energy so she has to hold up her end of that. They’re perfectly in sync the entire time, Brooke having memorised the choreography so well. Brooke lifts her to drag her across the floor and if Vanessa deliberately hooks her leg a little higher on Brooke’s waist then it’s simply a happy coincidence.

The next section flows well (Brooke makes a few little mistakes she’ll pull her up on) and when Brooke lifts Vanessa to spin her round her cheek is pressed against her chest and it sends a shockwave down Vanessa’s spine. Their faces are close again as they walk across the rehearsal room floor, Vanessa dipping down facing away from Brooke to extend her leg between Brooke’s open ones. Her arms lock around Brooke’s thighs for support and Brooke grips onto them as she helps her up, the power and force she uses when she spins Vanessa round and presses their foreheads together sending Vanessa up in flames. They’ve danced through these individual sections so many times but put together it’s almost too much. There’s an atmosphere in the air and Vanessa realises it’s the exact same as when they’d rehearsed the Salsa. They cross the floor once more and it reaches the point where Vanessa jumps up to straddle Brooke’s waist with both her legs. Brooke spins her round and Vanessa brings her arms up to cradle the back of her neck. As Brooke slows her spin she reaches the part where she’s meant to dip Vanessa, lower her to the ground, but she’s stopped dancing, electing instead to keep her eye contact steady and burning with Vanessa’s. Vanessa knows she should maybe lower one of her legs, or perhaps both of them, but she’s still got them both wrapped around Brooke’s waist and the fact Brooke’s still holding her without even so much as a tremble is too much. Brooke leans in, presses her forehead against Vanessa’s, and Vanessa can only hold her breath as Brooke squeezes her eyes shut. They’ve never been physically closer to each other and Vanessa knows she should do something, knows she should move the dance along, but her heart is begging Brooke to say something, to do something. She’d do it herself but making the first move didn’t seem to work out for her so great last time.

“Tell me that Sunday happened,” Brooke murmurs, and Vanessa’s heart stops. “Tell me you kissed me.”

Vanessa flushes red. Momentarily, she wonders if this is something Brooke’s doing to build chemistry between them during the dance. If it is then she’s quitting the entire show. Vanessa closes her own eyes, almost embarrassed to admit it. When she opens them, Brooke’s opened hers too and fuck, her eye contact is searing.

“I did,” she confirms. Then, because she’s petty and can’t let her off the hook easily, she raises her eyebrows. “But you never kissed back, remember?”

Vanessa sees the regret flash in Brooke’s eyes for only a second and then the sparkle is back. “No, that doesn’t sound like me. I don’t think that happened. Maybe I’m remembering it wrong though, maybe you need to remind me.”

Vanessa feels as if her synapses are melting. She’s basically being invited to kiss Brooke again, she’s confirming to her that it wasn’t a mistake, she wants it to happen again, that her pulling away the first time was…down to something else? She’s still not going to give Brooke what she wants that easily, though, so she cocks an eyebrow, tilts her head thoughtfully as she pulls back a little. “I’m sure you can remind yourself.”

Brooke doesn’t look deterred by this. She shrugs, fixes Vanessa with a soft smirk. “Okay.”

When Brooke gently leans in and meets Vanessa’s lips with hers, Vanessa is sure she sees fireworks going off in the dark of her closed eyes. She feels them too, they’re happening in every cell of her body because Brooke is voluntarily kissing her and she doesn’t know what this means but she’s going to take a wild guess and say that maybe, just maybe, Brooke likes her back after all. Brooke kisses like she dances- passionate, careful, fucking perfect. As Vanessa kisses back she’s trying not to speed things along, trying to make the moment last as long as she can, but it’s hard not to be eager and urgent and to kiss Brooke with a hunger she hadn’t known she was in possession of until now. She’s brought her hands around from the back of Brooke’s neck- one tangled in her hair, the other softly cupping her cheek- and she tries to channel all her gentleness into them, stroking her skin with her thumb gently as if Brooke is breakable and fragile like the moment they’re sharing.

It’s Vanessa who pulls away first (if only so she doesn’t give Brooke the upper hand of being the first one to pull away twice) and, as she’s depositing herself back on the floor to stand up, she can’t help but break out into a smile because Brooke is blushing and beaming at her and her arms are still wrapped around her waist.

Vanessa doesn’t really know what to say. That…happened. She’s confused, though. Just over twenty-four hours ago Brooke had been pulling away, not pulling her in. Vanessa thinks it’s almost too good to be true.

“Can we talk about all this?” Vanessa says before her brain has a chance to weigh up if it’s a good idea or not. Brooke’s smile falters and Vanessa feels guilty. “Not in a bad way, I just…like, my head is mush.”

“No, no, I get it. Of course we can,” Brooke nods, slides her arms away from Vanessa’s waist. “Here? Or in the canteen? We could go back to mine but it’s a bit far away.”

Vanessa pulls on her oversized jumper and then the green parka she’d wrapped herself up in to protect from the November cold. “I know a place.”

Vanessa drags the pair of them onto the tube and they travel to the Thames embankment, where they stop off at a nearby chippy to grab a styrofoam carton of chips each. The atmosphere between them has shifted- gone are the frosty silences and short conversations. Instead the two of them talk easily, bicker and laugh and flirt about nothing in particular. Vanessa knows they’ll talk things through once they’re comfortable so she settles on rolling her eyes at Brooke making fish puns in the middle of the chip shop (“when you said you knew a place I didn’t think you meant an ACTUAL plaice”). It’s quiet on the embankment, locals all home from work and tourists preferring the pull of the Houses of Parliament or the Eye across the river, so they don’t pass many people and they ones they do pass don’t seem to recognise them. Everything is calm and relaxed and easy, like the inky sky and the clean cold of the air and the smooth surface of the river that’s opposite them as they find a bench with only a few small puddles of water on it and settle down. Vanessa’s heart is thumping hard in her chest as Brooke sits down beside her, sitting diagonally so she can see her as they discuss things. It’s a small thing that Vanessa notices and appreciates.

“So,” Brooke says around a particularly hot chip, her mouth making an ‘o’ and steam flying out of it. “You wanted to talk.”

“Uh, yeah. ‘Cept now we’re here I don’t really know what to say.”

“Do you want me to start?”

Vanessa shrugs, bites into a chip delicately. “If you wanna.”

“Okay, well,” Brooke begins, then looks out to the river. The lights of the Eye are reflected in her own, blues and reds meeting greens and creating a kaleidoscope from which Vanessa never wants to look away. She pauses and takes a deep breath before meeting Vanessa’s eyes. “I’m really sorry for hurting your feelings on Sunday. If you’d kissed me in literally any other context, I wouldn’t have reacted like that. Honestly. I just…didn’t want to take advantage of you.”

Vanessa gives a laugh. She’s confused. “Take advantage?”

“No, I don’t mean like that, I mean…” Brooke frowns as she’s searching for the right words. It’s kind of adorable. “You were upset, you’d had a shit week. The music was all sad and you were crying and then you kissed me and I…didn’t want you to be doing that just because you felt upset. I didn’t want you to do that and then think you’d made a mistake.”

Vanessa pauses. She hasn’t considered that Brooke might have thought Vanessa would regret kissing her. To her the idea is so ridiculous that it almost makes her want to laugh but she doesn’t, because this means that Brooke was overthinking their kiss and trying to talk herself out of the idea of Vanessa possibly liking her back.

Now don’t that sound familiar.

Vanessa tries to stifle a smile as she tilts her head to look at Brooke. “It wasn’t a mistake, baby, I meant the whole damn thing.”

She wants to squeal when Brooke’s face breaks out into an enormous grin, one that Vanessa is sure must hurt her face. Vanessa likes the fact that Brooke is talking, likes the fact she’s saying everything first because it means she gets to hold her guard up just that little bit longer before this girl tears it down and even though she’s ready for that, it doesn’t mean she isn’t ever so slightly scared of it.

“So, uh…” Vanessa asks her, her tone light and teasing. Brooke crosses her legs and Vanessa has to try to stop herself getting any ideas. “That cast member you got a crush on. You gonna tell me who it is now?”

Brooke bursts out laughing, tipping her head back and lacing her hand with Vanessa’s at the same time. “Shut up. Are you really going to make me say it?”

Vanessa simply raises her eyebrows at Brooke, lets her know she’s waiting on her answer. Brooke gives another laugh as she gives in. “Fine! Well…she’s one of the dancers.”

“Uh huh.”

“I saw her on the induction day and I thought she was hot. We had a bit of a flirt and it was all fun and games. Then I followed her on Instagram because I was thirsty. Thought for ages about how to slide into her DMs but I was too much of a scaredy cat so I just commented on one of her pics instead,” Brooke continues to explain. Her admission makes Vanessa giggle, sends her heart leaping into the air because oh my God, Brooke had wanted to talk to her before the series even started too. She was thinking about Vanessa for the same amount of time Vanessa had been thinking about her. “Then it got to the intro show and I was like…screaming inside. I knew I wanted to be partnered with her, I knew even before the induction day because she’s so, so good at what she does. In fact, she needs to believe in herself more, but that’s besides the point. Anyway, we got paired up. I was so fucking ecstatic that night. She drunk-texted me and I actually lay in bed squealing and flailing like a teenage girl because I got so excited that she was thinking of me.”

Brooke is so animated when she’s talking about her crush. Her. She’s talking about her, and Vanessa is so happy and emotional she almost wants to cry but that would be peak pathetic so she squeezes Brooke’s hand instead, the hand that’s still entwined with hers.

“I keep growing closer to her and finding out more about her and she trusts me with stories about her life, trusts me to fling her body around the rehearsal studios despite the fact I’m so fucking clumsy I could drop something that’s superglued to my hand-“

“Stop lyin’, shut up,” Vanessa rolls her eyes at Brooke’s self-deprecation, and Brooke gives a gentle snort of a laugh.

“- And I just keep liking her more and more with every day,” Brooke smiles at her, her face all dreamy and dazed as if she’s sleepwalking. It suddenly snaps into a smirk, her eyes dark and playful, and it’s Vanessa’s turn to cross her legs. “And she doesn’t help any of it by looking like a Gymshark model and sticking her cute little butt out any time we rehearse.”

Vanessa screeches out an outraged laugh which Brooke’s quick to join in with. “Hey, I had to get your attention somehow!”

As their laughter dies down Vanessa fixes Brooke with a smile, scoots closer to her on the bench. “So go on, then. What’s her name?”

Brooke pulls Vanessa close with the hand she’s holding and when she says Vanessa’s name in response she feels worshipped. Suddenly, Brooke’s eyes fly open a little in what seems like panic. “Sorry. Fuck. That was all too much, wasn’t it?”

“Brooke Lynn,” Vanessa laughs. “I’ve had the most huge, embarrassin’ fuckin’ crush on you since God knows when. I really like you. Chill.”

Brooke’s still got a soft little smile on her face and it makes Vanessa wants to kiss her again so much so she pushes the images of long lens cameras out of her mind for the moment and leans in, kisses Brooke soft and gentle and slow and Vanessa doesn’t think she’ll ever get bored of the way Brooke kisses her back.

When Vanessa pulls away she’s right beside Brooke on the bench, so she slings an arm around her waist and rests her head against her chest for good measure. It’s still cold outside but Vanessa hopes that isn’t the only reason for Brooke cuddling her back, linking their hands together like a little chain. Vanessa’s happy, but her mind is still full of thoughts.

“How good are you at keeping secrets?”

“Depends what it is,” Brooke replies. Vanessa tilts her head up before she speaks again because this is important, she needs to see Brooke’s reaction and make sure she says this in the right way.

“I can’t do the whole…paparazzi, me-in-the-papers, invasion-of-privacy thing again. It was bad enough when me an’ Kam broke up,” she begins, and Brooke nods understandingly. “So I guess what I’m askin’ is…can we be careful? Whatever ‘we’ is. I don’t know yet but I don’t mind just figuring things out along the way.”

Brooke nods slowly, taking things in. “So you want to keep us secret for now?”

“Just until the show ends,” Vanessa reassures her, tries to ignore the triple somersault her heart does at the word ‘us’. “I don’t want people thinkin’ it’s a publicity stunt or tryin’ to take attention away from the other couples or anythin’ like that. Also I don’t want this getting ruined for us.”

Vanessa’s heart stands still as Brooke thinks for a second. She’s relieved when a grin spreads across her face. “Can I still flirt with you on Instagram? That’s fun.”

“Flirt with me anywhere you want, boo.”

“God, you know I’m so going to play into this? Think of all those fan accounts for us all those fourteen year olds run. They’re going to implode,” Brooke smiles, bouncing in her seat on the bench excitedly. It’s so endearing it makes Vanessa smile more than she already is. Her heart is still fluttering nervously; there’s butterflies trapped in there and as long as Brooke is holding her hand and smiling at her like that with her eyes all soft Vanessa is not really sure if they’ll ever go away. She doesn’t care, though.  

They stay on the bench for a while until their chips are finished. Brooke takes a photo of Vanessa who smiles brightly at the camera, carton of chips in her lap and her hair all messy over her shoulders but she doesn’t even care because she’s happy, so happy and relieved and when they walk back to the station together it feels like she’s walking on little clouds. They don’t kiss goodbye because it’s busier in the station but Brooke does sneak a peck against her neck when they hug and it makes Vanessa feel gooey inside. When Vanessa gets home that night she has both an Instagram tag and two messages from Brooke. She opens the message first.

B: I’m so glad we talked, I had the best time tonight. Can’t wait until I can take you on a proper date!! See you tomorrow cutie xxxxxx

B: (Sorry if cutie is ick I’m just going to try out a bunch of pet names because I can xxxxxx)

Vanessa feels her heart almost burst open at everything Brooke’s said to her. The confirmation that she enjoyed her company, the promise of a date, the pet name (which she definitely won’t say no to). It’s all like a big hug for her mind which had previously been exhausted with overthinking. Vanessa doesn’t realise how much she’s smiling at her screen as she types out her reply until it physically hurts her face.  

V: me too. you’re so amazing. for ref i like Zoilo if we going bougie or Franco Manca if we broke. cutie gets seal of approval from me… u a bit of a cutie urself xxxxxx

Before she gets ready for bed that night she decides to open up Instagram to see what Brooke has tagged her in. It’s the photo of her on the bench from earlier, and Vanessa wants to blush at how happy and smiley she looks. She scrolls to Brooke’s caption, and if she wasn’t blushing before she’s definitely blushing now.

bhytes: Post-rehearsal chips by the river with this diamond. I could get used to this. 🧡

Their fans are in meltdown in the comments, and Vanessa is melting herself.

Saturday comes quicker than Vanessa wants it to. It’s maybe because she never wants her time with Brooke to end whether that’s on or off the show. They’ve done full runs of their dance each day, the pair of them sneaking kisses with each other sometimes even mid-dance.

“You know we need to stop doin’ that, right?” Vanessa warns Brooke with a smile after Brooke kisses all down her neck mid-Tango in a bid to wind her up (she’d succeeded, and if Vanessa might need to take a cold shower later that’s nobody’s business but her own.)

“Why?”

“Because we’re gonna end up doin’ it on the night an’ then the cat’s outta the bag after what, three days?”

Vanessa doesn’t miss the way Brooke runs her tongue over her lips a little. She’s got a smirk on her face as she pulls her in close, slides her hands down her sides and hooks her fingers over the waistband of her leggings. “Well if you are going to keep wearing things that make your butt look so good, I am going to find it hard to stop kissing you.”

Brooke snaps the elastic of her waistband and Vanessa feels a fire ignite low in her stomach. She’s not told Brooke that she was the girl from her sex dream, she’s been saving that information for another day. She wonders when that day’s going to come, though. If Vanessa had her way she would lock the rehearsal room door, throw herself at Brooke and practically beg the girl to raw her, but she doesn’t know what Brooke’s thinking or feeling and Vanessa doesn’t want to risk ruining the high levels of sexual tension they’ve cultivated over roughly a month by asking her when they’re only 24 hours away from performing another incredibly sexy dance. By Saturday night the pair of them are ready to perform and their biggest challenge, Vanessa thinks, will be to try and act as if they’ve not started seeing each other and are in the complete honeymoon phase of whatever it is they are.

And soon enough Vanessa is sitting on a chair in the middle of the ballroom floor dressed in a long sparkling nude-effect dress with a split up its side, facing away from Brooke who’s in black tailored suit trousers and a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves buttoned up to the neck and an undone bow tie around it. The audience are silent as their VT plays, and then the familiar voice of the commentator is booming overhead.

“Dancing the Argentine Tango…Brooke Lynn Hytes and Vanessa Mateo!”

There’s four clicks of drumsticks smacking together before the music starts and the pair of them hit the first beats of the dance. There’s even more electricity between them now and when Brooke grabs her arm, reels her in with the napkin, pulls her close so their bodies are pressed against each other, Vanessa feels as if she’s burning up inside. They added in a little bit of choreo after their kiss and their riverbank date on Wednesday night, and Vanessa’s back is to the audience and the cameras as she gives Brooke a wink, hooks her fingers around each side of the lapels on Brooke’s shirt.

“I’m tellin’ you to loosen up my buttons, babe, uh-huh-”

Vanessa rips the velcro she knows the costume designers have concealed in the lapels and reveals a little strip of Brooke’s chest, her collarbones exposed. The roar that goes up from the audience in response has Vanessa feeling as if they’re dancing in a football stadium rather than the ballroom at Elstree. The shirt isn’t even open enough to expose any of Brooke’s cleavage but Vanessa suddenly realises how people in old-timey costume dramas feel when they see a woman’s ankle. As they press their foreheads together and cross the ballroom floor Vanessa finds it hard not to break character and smile like an idiot at Brooke Lynn, the girl that likes her back, the girl that maybe one day she’ll get to call her girlfriend, the girl that she can kiss any time she likes. She could technically kiss her now as she drops to the floor and Brooke comes with her, still holding her hand with her arm around her waist, but she focuses on getting the Ganchos right because they need a good score. Vanessa needs to show Brooke, show the judges, show every fucking person watching at home that she is a force to be reckoned with, that she can teach and choreograph and make Brooke progress.

Still, it’s hard not to just reach her lips forward and press them against Brooke’s as she drags her across the floor, Vanessa making sure to get her leg as high as it’ll go on her waist just to show Brooke what she’s capable of. As Brooke lifts her up and spins her, Vanessa sneaks a look at the judges’ table. Bianca is watching impassively as usual, Shangela is smiling from ear to ear, Kennedy is screaming and Laganja is leaning almost over the desk, her mouth wide open.

If ever there was a desired reaction to her choreography, it’s probably that.

There’s a point in the middle of the dance where the two of them pause in hold and just give each other an incredibly lingering look. Vanessa doesn’t have to act for this section and as she slowly brings her eyes up from Brooke’s chest to meet her gaze, she feels her knees turn ever-so-slightly weak as she catches the hunger, passion and fire in the other girl’s eyes.

If they don’t get at least 35 in this, Vanessa is going to quit the show and take Brooke with her.

Vanessa can hear the screams from one of the judges as she and Brooke walk slowly across the dancefloor with their hands cradling the back of each others’ necks. Brooke gracefully lowers her to the floor and pulls her up again, Vanessa making sure to press their bodies tight together once she’s in front of her. She catches the way Brooke’s eyes grow ever so slightly wide and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t fill her with a sense of pride. They get to the part that makes Vanessa’s pulse speed up every time- her legs wrapped around Brooke’s waist, Brooke spinning her around- because of all the memories attached to it. This time Brooke doesn’t kiss her, though- she dips her down one way then the other with her strong arms supporting Vanessa’s back.

Vanessa feels safer in Brooke’s arms than she’s ever felt with any six-packed, world-champion male partner. But of course, she knows exactly why that is.

The dance is coming to an end and Vanessa puts her all into walking Brooke back, her hand against her chest. Brooke sits down in the chair, spreads her legs before reaching out and letting Vanessa twirl into her arms, where she leans into her and wraps her arms around Brooke. She knows she’s got her chest pushed right up in Brooke’s face and all she’ll probably be able to smell is her perfume, but Vanessa doesn’t really mind and she’s got a feeling Brooke doesn’t either. As the final notes of the music ring through the studio, the audience are yelling and clapping the place down. Vanessa doesn’t even know if Brooke made any mistakes and at this point she doesn’t care because they did that dance proud, she knows they did, and as Brooke wraps her arms tight around her waist Vanessa feels her press a kiss to her collarbone that makes her giddy. Vanessa squeals with happiness and she feels Brooke pick her up in their hug and walk her over to where Michelle is standing. As they finally break apart she can see the smile on Brooke’s face. Vanessa throws caution to the wind a little, plants both her hands on either side of Brooke’s face so that her eyes are firmly locked on her own.

“We did it, baby,” she whispers to her, and she’s not even sure it’ll be audible over the cheers of the crowd but Brooke nods rapidly in happiness and Vanessa knows she’s been heard.

Michelle finally manages to pry Brooke off of her and get some form of reaction about how she feels the dance went.

“Oh my God, it felt amazing,” Brooke smiles. She’s laced her arm around Vanessa’s waist and Vanessa’s done the same, and Brooke gives her a little squeeze and a smile down at her as she continues. “We’ve obviously had a bit of a crazy week…you know, Vanessa coming back from her injury, but she’s just such a great person and such a great teacher that she still managed to recover and teach me all this, and I’m just so grateful for her. I’m so glad I’ve got her back. She’s not allowed to leave me again!”

Michelle laughs as Brooke puts her other arm around Vanessa to hug her, and Vanessa happily reciprocates.

“Vanessa, how do you think Brooke Lynn got on this week?”

Vanessa pries herself out from under Brooke’s arm and simply smiles up at her in response. “She knows how amazin’ I think she is, I’m gonna let the judges tell her instead.”

Michelle gives another laugh and so do some of the judges. Vanessa doesn’t miss the single raised eyebrow that Bianca shoots towards her. Her stomach dips. Maybe they hadn’t been as good as she’d thought…?

“Speaking of judges- Bianca, let’s come to you first. How did Brooke do?”

“Well…” there’s a silence as Bianca shuffles her notes a little. Vanessa feels her heart stand still. “I thought…that it was absolutely brilliant.”

The audience erupts. Vanessa is so shocked and happy that she can’t help the grin that breaks out on her face, and she and Brooke both instantly reach for each other to hug. There’s a rare smile to Bianca’s voice as she continues. “Brooke Lynn, there’s one thing that Vanessa can’t teach you, in fact nobody can teach it, and that’s chemistry. The chemistry you had with Plastique last week was great but the chemistry you have with Vanessa is incredible. The Argentine is all about that, it’s the passion and the fire, and you encapsulated that so well. Watch with the Ganchos that your feet are pointed all the way down, we should have a full 180 degrees there which I know you can do because I’ve seen it before- and it should be more of a light motion, you’re not churning butter…but other than that, a great job this week, well done.”

Vanessa looks up at Brooke and she’s still smiling as Michelle comes onto Shangela. She and Kennedy both give them glowing praise, the pair of them also mentioning the chemistry between them, and then it’s Laganja’s turn. The audience are already giggling in anticipation- they know she’s theatrical, and her reaction is going to be big. Vanessa watches as she sits composed in her chair, narrows her eyes, and points at them both with her pen.

“Is there…something going on…?” she asks. Vanessa feels her hand tighten around Brooke’s waist. She clenches her teeth together as she smiles. Fuck. Have they been too obvious? Laganja pauses dramatically as Brooke gives a laugh Vanessa can tell is fake. “I mean…first that American Smooth, and then that Viennese, and now THIS? Is there something in the air tonight, Fernando?!”

Vanessa lets out a relieved laugh as Laganja references Gigi and Crystal and Jan and Jackie’s dances, realises she’s not asking specifically about her and Brooke.

“LADIES, ma’am, I don’t have any earthly words for what I just witnessed!! The connection you two have is just incomparable…Brooke, you’ve been so great the past two weeks but I can tell you’re at your most comfortable and your happiest when you’re dancing with Vanessa, it’s like you’re here, you’ve arrived! This is elevated, mama! I don’t know if you could hear me screaming when you dragged Vanessa across the floor-”

“New Zealand heard that scream, Laganja,” Bianca cuts in deadpan, and the audience laughs.

“- yes thank you, Simon Cowell! Maybe your feet weren’t as pointed as they could’ve been during the Ganchos- you know what, I honestly don’t care! I wasn’t looking at your feet! I spent that entire dance wondering if you were going to smooch each others’ faces off midway through!”

Vanessa bursts out laughing as she feels Brooke do the same beside her. They’re both squeezing each others’ sides for dear life. If they only fucking knew.

“Great job, Brooke, and Vanessa- welcome back, ma, that’s how you return after an injury.”

The audience clap them as Michelle sends them upstairs, and Vanessa’s hand is tight in Brooke’s as they run up to the Divinatorium and are greeted by Divina herself. She interviews the pair of them but Vanessa can hardly speak, she’s practically vibrating with excitement beside her partner. Their comments were so encouraging, the best they’ve had. Brooke’s never had a 10 from any of the judges before. Maybe tonight is the night?

“Will the judges please reveal their scores. Bianca Del Rio.”

Vanessa’s screaming before Bianca can even speak, because there, on the paddle, is an, “Eight!”

Brooke’s arm flies around her waist in a hug but Vanessa can’t yet accept it, her eyes glued to the screen.

“Kennedy Davenport.”

“Nine!” she says happily, and Vanessa is so happy that she can almost feel tears stinging her eyes.

“Shangela Wadely.”

“Nine!” she beams at the camera, sticking her paddle into the air. Vanessa’s heart lifts itself up into the rafters as the camera pans to Laganja’s seat. She gave them the most favourable critiques. Maybe…?

“Laganja Estranja.”

“I hope y’all are ready for this…TEN!” she screeches as she stands up, and Vanessa can barely take in the amount of things that happen at once. Her pulse skyrockets, Brooke practically leaps on her in her haste to wrap her in a hug, the other couples are screaming and cheering and clapping for them, and her eyes basically spring a leak. She has no idea why she’s so emotional but Jesus Christ, she’s allowed to be after the past few weeks she’d had. Laganja thought their dance was a ten. A perfect ten. Flawless. Impeccable. They’re second on the leaderboard behind Jan and Jackie (who scored thirty-eight). Vanessa feels like running back down the stairs and kissing the judges, never mind Brooke Lynn beside her.

But of course, the thought of kissing Brooke is one that isn’t too far away, and they’re walking down the corridors, laughing and chatting after their reaction interview and about to go back to makeup when Brooke slows beside her dressing room door, laces her hands in Vanessa’s.

“Um…” she casts her eyes downwards, and when she meets Vanessa’s gaze again there’s a little glint in her eye that makes Vanessa squeeze her thighs together. Brooke puts on her very best, professional, TV presenter voice as she talks. “Vanessa. Would you mind helping me with something for two minutes in my dressing room?”

Vanessa almost feels her pupils blow as Brooke gently tugs her in. The moment she steps through the dressing room door Brooke wastes no time in closing it, spinning her round and pressing her up against it as she crashes their lips together. Vanessa has to stop herself from sliding down the door, feeling like a snowman in July as Brooke’s soft lips press against hers and her tongue licks gently into her mouth. If Brooke’s tongue can make her feel this weak when they’re just kissing, Vanessa almost doesn’t dare think about how good it could feel elsewhere.

Vanessa can give as good as she gets though, and she likes to have the upper hand so she  drops her lips to Brooke’s neck, presses frantic kisses down down down to her collarbone where she sucks at the skin, bites ever so gently then licks over the mark she’s just created, kissing hard against it once, twice, three times before she feels Brooke lean down to murmur into her ear.

“That better not’ve left a mark.”

Vanessa’s spine feels like an electricity pylon. “Does it feel like it didn’t leave a mark?”

Her breath hitches as Brooke slams her knee in between her thighs, cages her in. Brooke’s voice is a low whisper as she kisses her neck, making Vanessa whine. “You’re so bad, fuck.”

“You like it when I’m bad, huh?” Vanessa teases, dropping both her hands to Brooke’s waist as she bucks her hips against her. The friction has got her feeling tightly wound and she needs more, way more than this.

“God, yes,” Brooke sighs, brings her mouth back up to kiss her again. It’s not as frantic as their first; this time it’s slow, teasing, and driving Vanessa absolutely insane. They’ve not talked about this, where this is going to go, and Vanessa doesn’t want to assume anything but still…Brooke’s got her in a pretty compromising position. She’s still going to check though, so she pulls back, murmurs against Brooke’s lips as she places both her hands on either side of her jaw.

“What do you want, baby?”

Brooke gives a sigh mixed up with a gasp as Vanessa trails a finger down her neck, stops it at her chest right where her shirt’s buttoned up. “Ah…want you to-”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

Vanessa launches herself away from the door, almost jumps into Brooke’s arms Scooby-Doo style in shock. Brooke’s got her arms around Vanessa, her eyes equally wide and her mouth just as slack-jawed. She steps away quickly as whoever’s behind the door starts speaking.

“Brooke Lynn? You and Vanessa are needed in makeup.”

Vanessa can see Brooke swallowing thickly, the rise and fall of her chest as she tries to compose herself. The very sight of that alone makes Vanessa’s mouth dry. “Okay, no worries! We’ll be down soon!”

The pair of them stand in the dressing room in silence listening to the sound of the runner walking away. It’s funny- the pair of them sneaking around like they’re in high school or some shit, and it makes Vanessa press her lips together in an attempt to stifle a laugh. She looks at Brooke Lynn, who’s got much the same expression on her face. It’s Brooke that cracks first, and soon the pair of them are standing giggling together.

“Nothing like getting the absolute shit scared out of us to really kill the mood,” Brooke laughs softly, reaching out and tucking a piece of Vanessa’s hair behind her ear that has come loose from its bun. Vanessa smiles, sighing a little and taking her hand.

“We should go. It’ll be a batterin’ ram next.”

“Right,” Brooke shrugs a little, stroking the back of Vanessa’s hand with her thumb. Vanessa can see she’s holding something back and just as she’s about to ask her what it is, Brooke meets her eyes. “You think we’re going through to Blackpool?”

Vanessa has almost forgotten what week it is next week; where the dancers all travel up to the iconic Blackpool Tower ballroom for one night away from Elstree. They pull out all the stops that night and they’re allowed backup dancers and even sometimes a set instead of just props. She tilts her head in thought- the fact that by the end of tonight there’ll be just six of them left in the competition is wild to her, the whole thing is going so quickly. She can see in Brooke’s eyes that she’s not forgotten, though, the nerves almost visibly clouding her vision, so Vanessa leans up and presses a soft kiss to her lips and feels Brooke relax against her.

She pulls away and shoots Brooke a soft grin. “After that performance? You might as well start packing your case, baby.”

[ruthsheart]

comfort

 While Marco is flying the wolf pack to Scotland, @ava-x-park stays with Ruth to comfort her hysterical best friend. To her surprise, she learns that being a good friend isn’t always gossip, shopping, and compliments.

tw: blood

Ruth: Something was wrong. Something had to be wrong. Marco hadn’t picked up his cell all day. Last night he’d flown off like some geeky superhero in a trench coat, pack of wolves floating around him like little deadly clouds. He’d simply flown off, alone, and left her, alone, and not once had he picked up his cell in twelve restless hours of calling and sobbing into her pillow and smashing whatever she could smash in her anxious rage. The least he could do is send her a text. Hey Ruth, I’m in Edinburgh, be home soon, in his typical careless, no-big-deal way of saying things that mattered. No. Idiot had gone off to be the hero and get his throat torn out as he starved himself of sleep and food, all alone, in boring ol’ Scotland of all places. Selfish jerk would get eaten by wolves and the only thing she’d know for sure was that he never picked up the phone ever again. In the meantime, Ruth had thrown enough fits to exhaust herself and trashed enough of her flat that she couldn’t properly sit or lie down anywhere except the floor. So on the floor she planted herself, pretending to nap between ragged sobs and panicked, ferocious text messaging.

Ava: As Ruth's self-proclaimed best friend, it was Ava's duty to comfort and soothe poor Ruth in her brother's absence - to be a pillar of strength and consolation during Ruth's time of deep distress and loss. To bring a sense of calm and clarity into the midst of the chaos of Ruth's desperate situation.

However, Ava being Ava and Ruth being Ruth, it was never going to be quite that simple.

The little silver spoon sang against the glass cup as Ava prepared some sweet chamomile tea. Stevia, of course, no sugar. Sugar was for breakups and when people died, and as far as Ava knew - despite Ruth's fears for the contrary - no one was dead just yet. There was no sense in adding to the dramatics by giving the poor girl sugar.

"Here you go, darling," she said in a soft, sing-song voice, as she padded back to Ruth. "Usually when mummy feels stressed she has a tramadol and takes herself to bed, but I don't have any tramadol." She took a seat on the floor opposite Ruth and offered out the cup. "So I made some tea. Apparently it's soothing. If it doesn't help, we can move on to wine, I'm sure I saw some Chardonnay in your drinks cabinet."

Ruth: She sniffled miserably as she poked a few more words into a text message. Please don't leave me here alone. I can't do this without you. Send. As Ava's nimble feet moved with an almost inaudible patter across the wooden floor and over the throw rug, Ruth weakly pushed herself up to sitting. Her hair hung limp and tangled over her face. Her wrinkled white blouse was smeared with blood and her jeans had dark mud-stains across the shins. She hadn't changed or showered or eaten in almost 24 hours. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Marco was the only person who mattered and he was gone.

"Thank you." She muttered as her hands wrapped around the little cup, her voice low and rough from crying. She didn't want tea, but she was raised to be polite whether she wanted it or not. Instead, she held the heat close to her chest. It was something warm in this cold, dreadful world. "I don't want to sleep. I don't want anything." Everything was wrong, from Ava's adorable little socks to the spinning ceiling fan above their heads. The world was wrong without Marco in it. "Why won't he answer me, Ava?" She already knew the answers. He's focusing on telekinetically flying himself and a pack of wolves. He's too high up for proper cell service, which was spotty over the wild parts of Great Britain to begin with. He didn't want to get distracted and mess up. He'd dropped or forgotten his phone somewhere. He fell, or he was attacked, or he was dead. "Why is he such a selfish jerk?" Her throat squeezed tight and her ragged voice turned to a squeak as she gripped the tea cup tight and sniffled back aching tears.

Ava: "Well, that's what the tramadol was supposed to be for," Ava explained with pronounced patience. She tucked her long legs neatly under herself and rested her now-empty hands in her lap. "At least get changed. A nice, hot shower and some fresh pyjamas. You'll feel a hundred times better, trust me."

At Ruth's questioning, she gave a exaggerated, sympathetic sigh. "Because he's a man," she explained. "And they're all the same. Brothers, boyfriends, dads... they all go to the same school of self-absorbedness and awful communication. It's just what they do, and we love them anyway for some reason. I'm sure Marco will be in touch with you again  just as soon as he's finished dealing with those ghastly flea bags. He's probably off scrubbing himself with a wire brush as we speak and he'll be home before you know it."  She folded her arms, forgetting herself for a moment and frowning deeply. If her mother were here, she would scold Ava about wrinkles.

"I still don't really understand what that boss wolf was even doing. Like, what on earth was he planning to do with Faye's body? Go to uni and drink at the weekends? Use his new thumbs to finally surf the net on an iPhone? What was the master plan, exactly?"

Ruth: Ruth’s eyes lifted from the little glass cup hugged in her hands to give Ava a deadpan, exhausted stare. She was too tired to argue. Last night, she might have thrown a fit if someone told her what to do, she might have screamed and tossed her mug of tea across the room. She didn’t have the energy to fight like that, not after a long, sleepless night of crying into her throw rug. Now she could only stare with sore, watery eyes, as if silently begging Ava not to force her up from the rug where she will decidedly lay until she dies.

Ruth sipped at her tea, then frowned at the boring herbal taste, like water and leaves. On second thought, that was all tea was, water and leaves. She set the cup aside and drew her knees up to her chest. Her focus faded in and out while Ava chattered on about fleas and scrubbing... Blood and dirt-stained fingers picked unconsciously at the mud on her jeans. Her mouth answered before her mind had even caught up. “He wanted power.” She blinked at the distant invisible place she’d been staring at for minutes before turning to look at Ava. “He was nothing more than an animal before Faye, just a wild dog, but inside Faye, he had power. He could communicate, he could manipulate, he could walk among us and nobody would throw him in a kennel and move him to the zoo. He was angry, and he wanted the power to do something about it.” She thought back to the night in the woods, dancing and feeling each other’s bodies under the full moon. She’d been asking herself the same question for days—what had Ulfric wanted out of that night? Was it really him in control, or had Faye shone through for one evening? Ruth hugged her knees tighter. “He wanted to hurt people. That’s reason enough to destroy him.”

Ava: "Well, he got one thing right, I suppose," Ava mused with a non-committal shrug. "People tend to underestimate the gift of the gab, but if you've got it, you've got an awful lot of people under your thumb. I guess he could talk to us and move around our world and still talk to all of his gross little friends." It was the best of both, really.

Oh-so-casually, she took her phone out of her pocket and brought up Marco's number. There were exactly two WhatsApp messages to him saved in her history: one from like a million years ago asking why his sister wasn't answering her phone, and one from last spring asking him when his birthday was, because she had been tipsy on champagne cocktails with Ruth and thought she was being dreadfully witty. Neither message had elicited a response from Marco, though the two blue ticks confirmed that he'd read them. She keyed in another message.

would u hurry up?? ruth planning ur funeral xx

Still smiling sweetly for Ruth, she put her iPhone away again.

"Anyway, like I said. Men. Even men who are wolves, or dogs, or whatever. Selfish."

Ruth: Ruth sighed, a long dramatic rush of exhaustion. Normally, she'd agree with Ava. They'd laugh about how terribly irritating men were--selfish, rude, ignorant... Ruth couldn't count how many times she'd told Ava stories of how Marco was impossibly frustrating and unkind to her, but for every tale of woe, there were two more stories of his generosity and love. Things had never been easy for them, father always had his expectations of them, but they held strong because they had each other. Without Marco, she would be utterly alone for the first time in her life. He had to come back. She needed him back in her arms, because if he didn't come back, she wouldn't know how to live without her other half.

A silence fell between them, exhausted and painfully aware of itself. Again, Ruth found herself staring at Ava with a blank, lifeless expression of disappointment. Everything was wrong. Words came out wrong, the carpet under her bum sat wrong, Ava's watery tea was wrong, Ruth's aching violated skin was wrong, the air felt wrong. Ava's presence only sharpened that sensation from a dull blade to a slicing edge.

Slowly, Ruth uncoiled herself and fell onto her back. She shut her eyes. For a moment she thought if she pretended to sleep again, maybe Ava would go home, leave Ruth to suffer in loneliness as loudly and as mud-caked as she wants. Then a strange thought popped into her head. Without getting up or opening her eyes, Ruth muttered. "Why are you here, Ava? What do you want?" Her hands felt heavy, as if someone rested a 20 kg weight in each palm. They sank into the fluffy rug, blood-stained fingers curling in on themselves. "I thought we weren't talking anymore."

Ava: Ava watched her friend mope with concern, a tiny crease appearing between her perfectly-maintain eyebrows. Ruth was acting like her brother was already as good as dead. None of them had died yet.  They'd all come up against the wolf pack in one way or another, and they were all still alive. Even Des, and all he had to defend himself were flashy lights. Marco could literally move things with his mind. He could even fly. He was going to be fine.

Ruth's question, however, threw her slightly. "Hmm?" She tilted her head to one side and tried not to sound as miffed as she felt. "What d'you mean, why am I here? You can't be all by yourself in this state, can you?" She fell silent for a moment, the hurt worming its way into her chest as she scrambled to find something else to say.

"Of course we're talking, Ruth! What on earth are you going on about? Honestly, all this stress has made you really confused. You're my bestie, babe. Just because we've been, like, super busy all year doesn't mean you're not still my fave, yeah?" She smiled at Ruth's supine form and folded her arms across her chest. "You know, I read this thing on Instagram the other day, about how really close friends can, like, not see each other for ages and then just pick up again right where they left off. I think that's totally us, don't you?"

Ruth: Eyes shut and body laid out like a skinned animal rug, Ruth tried not to sigh too loudly at Ava’s trite response. Tried, and failed. There were nine other people who could have come to comfort her, but Ava was the one who’d come. Ava, who’d been avoiding her for months. She had an angle, a motive, something. She wouldn’t just show up now to play nurse to someone she didn’t want to see without a reason. The idea that Ava was only here to watch her settled bitterly in her chest. Just another watcher, another person she thought she knew, wasting their time making sure she doesn’t do anything reckless. Slowly, Ruth explained with only a little venom. “I don’t need a babysitter. I’m a grown woman. I can eat, and sleep, and poop when I want to. That’s not why you’re here.” Again, she asked. ”What do you want?”

The reply was not what she’d been expecting. Ava, as she always did with her perfect knack for being perfect, smiled and brushed away Ruth’s concerns as easy as swiping left. Ruth’s eyes eased open to stare at the whirling ceiling fan. Confused? God, she really was confused. The world felt like it was crashing down on her head and nobody else could even feel it at all. Was she really losing it this time?

Her face scrunched up as a hiccup of a sob escaped, hot tears spilling free once again. “I’m s-sorry, Ava. I don’t know what I w-was thinking. Of course we’re still besties. Besties forever.” She swiped her hands across her cheeks to brush her fat, heavy tears away. Her fingers left brown smudges across her face. She gasped another quivering breath and squeaked as she stifled another sob. “I thought... I had my accident, and then you s-stopped messaging me, and I... I thought I scared you away. I thought you didn’t like me anymore.” She buried her crumpled, crying face in her hands, too embarrassed to share her gross snotty tears with Ava. “I love you, b-ballerina babe. Please don’t hate me for what I said.”

Ava: Honestly, Ruth's super-suspicious line of questioning was confusing - not to mention the rudest. Here was Ava, making tea and offering a listening ear like the amazing friend that she was, and all Ruth could do was shout at her and like some snappy... snap... McSnappington.

"Well, my darling. You're very upset right now, so I'm going to let that..."

She trailed off when Ruth suddenly dissolved into a puddle of tears and heartfelt apologies, and her own heart softened, kneaded with a strangely upsetting combination of genuine sympathy and gnawing guilt. "Oh, sweetie..." she said quietly, shuffling across the floor to draw alongside Ruth before lying on the floor next to her. "I was scared. Super scared. I wake up one morning to like, fifty billion WhatsApps all telling me to ring back, it's an emergency, you've tried to..." She paused, hesitating and blinking back tears. "That you've tried to... to hurt yourself. And then some of the others are saying it was to do with this... this stupid magic nonsense."

She fought to get a grip on herself before she started crying too. It wouldn't do to cry. This wasn't a big deal. They were best friends, just like they always had been. Nothing had changed.

"T-totally spooked, babe," she went on, with a nonchalance she's perfected over countless years. "And it was so not cute of me to ghost you like that. Completely selfish. I am so, so sorry for being such a hideous flake." She rolled on to her side to face her friend her head resting on her arm. "I love you too, gorgeous. It's you and me, yeah?" She reached out a perfectly-manicured hand and brushed away a tear. "Best friends."

Ruth: Buried in her hands, Ruth tried to swallow down the tide of tears that kept rising up, stinging at her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. She heard Ava move, her motions graceful, quiet, gentle. Everywhere she went was a dance, an expression of her perfect lithe shape. Someone like Des or Imogen would have plopped down beside her like a great sack of potatoes, announcing their arrival with fanfare and perhaps a little endearing clumsiness. But Ava, she moved with elegance, like a flower opening to the morning sun. In many ways, her best friend was like her twin brother, a rather inevitable turn of events considering how close she and Marco were. Just like him, Ava was almost always perfect. She was always smiling, always controlled, determined and practiced, talented and beautiful. Just like Marco, Ava was gifted. Her beauty inspired Ruth, and it tormented her. She could never be that graceful, that naturally smooth and gentle. Wiping her face roughly with long fingers, Ruth sniffled back the soggy tears and blinked at her effortlessly gorgeous friend.

"It was so, so scary." She nodded in mopey, pathetic agreement. "I thought I could make it disappear, get these horrible images out of my head, if I threw it all away and left this awful place, but without the paint..." Without the paint, there were so many other ways to pour her soul out onto the canvas. Her wrists itched painfully where the scars knotted her fair skin. "I wanted to d-do everything on my own, to prove I was s-strong and smart enough to control it, that there was nothing wrong with me. I..." Her throat tightened, but she pushed onward in a small, whimpering voice. "You're right. I can't be alone. I'm not strong enough."

Slowly, Ruth shuffled closer, reaching out to rest a soft arm around Ava's petite waist. "Best friends. No matter what. Even when... when... I'm not..." Even when I'm not pretty, or strong, or smart, or funny. Even when I'm falling apart. Please, please love me. Tell me I'm enough. She wriggled in closer, trying to hide her messy face against Ava's chest.

Ava: Ava shook her head. This was so typical Ruth. So independent and stubborn. So hell-bent on doing everything herself, even when it was a disaster waiting to happen. Still, she couldn't blame her. Their powers scared Ava, too.  Ava, as much as she avoided this truth, had been frightened into inaction. Ruth had had the guts to attempt an escape.

"Oh, darling," she sighed. "Your painting is in you, like my dancing is in me. You can bin your paints all you like but I'm afraid there's no running away from how devastatingly talented you are!" She allowed herself to smile again. "Maybe this magic thingy is the same. It just sort of is."

She hugged Ruth close to her, not sure what to say. Her usual go-tos when comforting her friends were to tell them they were just so pretty, that they didn't need so-and-so in their lives anyway, or that they should go clubbing or shopping. Somehow, in the face of Ruth's raw pain, with her friend's thick, tangled hair between her fingers, none of her pre-programmed responses seemed adequate. That quiet, growing panic that had become increasingly familiar to her since beginning her studies at Durham made it's presence known once again, and she fought to contain it.

"Even when you're not quite up to yourself, yes. Of course. What are friends for, after all? Darling, you've been so brave. But the wolf thing is gone now. Marco will be back in no time, all fussing about being hungry and having dog hair on his jacket. Faye will be up and about in no time and we can all get back to normal. That's all we want, really, isn't It?"

Ruth: “Devastatingly talented? That’s your choice of words?” Ruth wanted to slap Ava’s cheeky mouth, so she did, gently. Rolling onto her side, she lifted a hand to pat Ava on the cheek, leaving a muddy smudge in her wake. A smile threatened to pull at her lips as she noticed the dirty handprint on Ava’s flawless cheek, a little bit of artful juxtaposition. At least she’d left her mark somewhere in the world before the end of it all. “Devastatingly something, I wouldn’t say talented, maybe foolish.” Rolling again onto her back, she blinked her aching eyes at the whirling ceiling fan. Her smile faded, sharpening into a little frown of contemplation. Maybe it just is. That bit of logic went against everything the authors had told them, but that could be why it sounded so appealing. Of course, anything sounded more appealing than cursed to die horribly. For some of them, they had taken to their powers like a fish takes to water. For Ruth, it felt more like her powers had taken to her. Overwhelming waves that crashed on her head before receding away into the depths of the unknown future, leaving her smeared with paint, sore and confused. All she could do to control it was keep her paints and pencils nearby for those moments when the levee broke and time came flooding in. Was that what Ava meant by “it just is”?

It was easier to ignore the gnawing fearful questions when she was pressed up against Ava, wrapped in her slender arms with the sweet floral scent of her filling Ruth’s head. Fingers brushed into the thick matted hair at the back of her head. Finally, her ragged breathing began to settle into a rhythm. Her quivering relaxed into a heavy exhaustion. Ava’s fingers curling into her hair sent waves of warm, tingly sedation through her. She snuggled against Ava’s chest, relieved to feel cool skin against her burning hot cheek. Her breath swept across Ava’s skin in quiet little hiccups. Ava’s voice was like a melody, light and dainty as birdsong. Again, the flimsy ghost of a smile floated on her lips. Marco would saunter back in complaining about hair on his jacket as if he’d only been gone minutes, rather than days. “Marco...” Her giggle was a tiny breathless wheeze. “I miss him.”

Faye, too. She missed Faye’s careful fingers, her soft lips, her watchful eyes. That Faye was gone. This new Faye wouldn’t dote on her every movement, wouldn’t drink in her every word like poetry. The wolf was dead. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

Ruth nodded against Ava’s chest. “Normal,” she whispered. Her head was immensely heavy. Simply the act of breathing took all the energy she had left after her violent fit of tears. She shut her eyes. “I’m not sleeping.” She insisted in a small groggy mutter. “I’m just resting my eyes for a minute.”

Ava: Ava laughed as Ruth gently cuffed her cheek. So relieved was she to see her friend show even a glint if her usual cheerful banter that she was even willing to let the muddy smudge on her face go. Either way, she was still the cleanest person in the room. That would have to do. "Devastatingly gorgeous, then," she offered.

Ruth had become calm, and Ava shut her own eyes in the soft silence that came with the likely-brief island of tranquillity in the sea of her friend's emotions. "I know you do, babe," she replied softly. "He misses you too. That's why he's going to hurry back."

She opened one eye and glanced down at Ruth's head, profoundly unconvinced by Ruth's claim. "Darling, if I blew on you right now you'd be off. Why don't you go to bed? I can wait here and wake you up if Marco comes back, yeah?"

Ruth: “God, I hope he hurries back.” Ruth grumbled sleepily into Ava’s chest. “I can’t live like this. I can’t keep living like this. Always on edge... waiting for the next attack... the next bout of bad news...” Her voice hummed low as she babbled her drowsy worries. “Every time I think I can trust someone, they hurt me or they leave me, everyone but Marco... but he’s run off, too.” Weakly rubbing her watery eyes, she sighed. “For once, I just want to feel safe, like there isn’t someone waiting to jump at me from the shadows.” She sniffled miserably. “The stress is killing my complexion.” Some mornings she didn’t even recognize herself in the mirror.

Sleep. She was so unbelievably tired. If Marco would just come marching victoriously through her door, she would finally be able to let everything go and let sleep take her. Until then, her thoughts stuttered between sluggish disappointment and frantic bursts of fear and anger. “Noooo...” She moaned quietly, squeezing a little tighter at Ava’s waist as if to hold herself there on the floor with her. “What if he calls?” Her voice began to tighten and turn high-pitched with panic. “What if he doesn’t come here first? What if he shows up on the news? I don’t want to miss anything!” Her breath faltered. Her voice wavered into a plea, rather than a demand. “I can’t sleep. Marco might need me at any moment. I have to... I have to stay... awake.” Again, she hid her face in Ava’s chest, shielding her friend from seeing how her eyes could barely keep open, despite her worried protests.

Ava: Ava sighed deeply. "It's not fair, is it, darling?" She replied. "Do you ever think maybe life would have worked out so much easier if we just... hadn't all gone down to the beach that first night? I mean... " she smiled, abashed. "I only went out that night because I was meant to meet some boy from History of Art - you remember the fit one with the ponytail that dropped out last May?" Her smile faded at the memory, her free hand moving unconsciously to rub at the muddy streak on her face. "Anyway, I stood him up. Got to the bar and just, like, kept walking. And the beach looked so lovely that I wanted to take a picture and put it on my Instagram." She glanced sideways at Ruth and raised her eyebrows. "Should have just gone on the stupid date, shouldn't I?"

She'd gone off on a bit of a tangent, but she didn't really mind. Ruth probably didn't care too much either. The poor girl was almost out cold.

Ah, skin. Something Ava could actually help with. "Perfect, then. We'll do facials at my apartment once all of this is finished... just... just as soon as you aren't muddy anymore." The carpet in her bedroom was cream, after all.

Ruth's sudden protests caused her to sit up. "Ruth. Darling. Marco is going to be such a pain if he finds I didn't look after you properly," she  said. "He'll know, too.  No amount of eye cream is going to fix this, babe."

Ruth: Ruth remembered the boy with the ponytail. He’d been smart, but lazy, uncommitted. Ruth had several classes with him in her first year. She had glared at him from across the room every time she noticed his nose buried in his phone in the middle of lecture. Maybe all that glaring had injected him with some terrible illness, or maybe he’d finally decided he was too smart for school, either way he’d dropped out suddenly and Ruth had never seen him again. Ava’s chest slid out beneath her cheek as the girl moved to glance at her. Ruth blinked the tears from her eyes and raised her head to meet Ava’s dark, sweet eyes. A slight smile tugged at Ruth’s lips. Ava was so naturally lovely, even smudged with dirt and shadowed with somber emotions. Ruth imagined painting that soft, radiant face, smoothing delicate pinkish porcelain-colored paint onto the canvas with her sharp painting knife to get the clean, flawless reflection of her beauty. “He was pretty, but that guy had no dedication to anything. It’s good you stood up that cheeseball. He’s no good for you.” Even exhausted and upset, Ruth knew without a shadow of a doubt that Ava would have abhorred dating that loser. It was obvious.

“We were star-gazing,” Ruth began in a dreamy, far-away mutter. “Marco and I, we were already at the beach together, looking at the stars. We do that in the summertime when school gets out, just lay back and talk about cabbages and kings while the night turns all around us for hours and hours and hours...”

Every time she thought she had gotten the tears under control, they began to creep back up again. Her eyes welled up with wetness at the simple suggestion that they do facials together, something they used to do regularly before her accident had driven an awkward wedge between them. For perhaps the first time in twenty-four hours, Ruth paused to look down at herself. Her clothes were caked and smeared with dried sticky muck. The dried blood on her hand was falling off in ragged little chips. Her hair hung in thick, matted tangles, rather than her usual luscious waves.

When had she become such a horrible mess? How had she let it get so bad? With Ava here, no less—perfect, gorgeous, well-composed Ava, who never looked less than completely stunning.

Mortified, she hid her face in her hands, wishing she had Cleo’s gift to disappear. “Ohmygod, I’ve lost it. I’ve really lost it. I’m on the floor in day-old clothes with dirty hair and blood and... and Marco’s going to have a cow. Oh god, what do I do? I’m such a mess. No wonder everyone thinks I’m totally mental.”

Ava: Ava smirked. "Yeah, definitely. He probably thought he was God's gift to women, too. The way he used to peek around sometimes in lectures to see if anyone was looking at him. I mean, he was hot and everything, but I'm actually fairly sure that he was so in love with himself that going out with anybody else would have counted as cheating."

As Ruth's eyes began to well up with tears again, Ava lay back down next to her again. "Yeah, and it's like, June now. You'll be doing it again this time next week, I promise. Just lazing about chatting about.... about cabbages in the sky and all those lovely things." Probably twinspeak. She didn't ask.

"You have a little bit, darling," Ava admitted with a twinkly laugh. "It's so not like you but let's face it, you're still hotter than the majority of people on their good days. What you do, is get a shower and have a nap. I don't care which one you do first - although I'm sure you'd be far more comfortable with all this dried muck off you." She got to her feet and put her hands on her hips. "Right. Chop chop. You decide what you're doing first and I'm going to get you a towel and some nice clean pajamas."

Ruth: Ruth sniffled and gasped, trying to suck back the tears, collect them inside herself where no one else could see them. It only made her sounds more miserable as she struggled to breathe. Ava's closeness beside her was a troubling comfort. Rub her face and sniffle all she wanted, she couldn't hide her pathetic sobbing enough for Ava not to notice. Ruth had tried so hard for so long to be strong, to be independent, but her best friend's closeness and understanding left Ruth's exhausted strength feeling as flimsy as a wall of dry leaves. A little shove sent her spiraling off in all directions, scattered powerlessly on the wind. She had missed Ava in her absence far more than she had thought. Being smart and strong was so agonizingly boring sometimes.

She missed facials and shopping and moaning about gross people in their classes. She missed wandering in new places and laughing at each other and staying up until the run rose. She missed riding bikes down hills and splashing paint on each other and arguing over what to eat for lunch. She missed having friends. Without Marco, her life had become lonely and loveless. But she hadn’t truly lost Ava, not like she lost Des all those years ago, only frightened her best friend. She prayed to the heavens that she wouldn’t lose Marco this time. She opened her mouth to argue that Ava couldn’t promise her that it would happen. People kept promising to her that Marco would be back, but they weren’t actually doing anything  to bring him home. Hypocrites, the lot of them. Her breath wobbled out a small hiccup. While she swallowed down that wave of tears, she decided she’d argue another day, one where she wasn’t barely keeping herself together.

It’s not fair. Ruth was tired and muddy and fighting to hold back tears while Ava was glowing with laughter and kindness. Ava was effortlessly perfect. Like Marco, she never tripped and fell on her face, never lost her cool. Rory, too. Stupid air signs and their stupid flawless smiles. It’s not fair.

“Th-thanks,” she muttered into her hands. Pulling her fingers away tentatively, she looked down at her hands and grimaced. “Shower.” She nodded. “He can’t see me like this he’ll throw a fit.” She looked around her at the rug, spotted with crumbles and smears of mud, then at her filthy hands, then up at Ava. Her eyes still puffy and watery, she held out her hands for Ava to help her up off the floor. ”Ohmygod I’m so gross.” She whined once she climbed to her feet. Her skin stung as she peeled the jean jacket from her shoulders. In the hours she’d been fussing and screaming and lying there, the jacket had nearly adhered itself to her back. She winced as she dragged it over her aching muscles, then dropped in it a heap on the floor. The white blouse beneath the jacket cling to her skin in filthy patches, splattered with blood. She didn’t hesitate for a second, curling her fingers under the hem and lifting the soiled shirt over her head before throwing it to the ground. She didn’t care what happened to the shirt now. Wash it, burn it, throw it in the rubbish, it was all the same as long as she didn’t have to look at it again. Her steps were slow and unsteady as she fumbled with the button of her skinny jeans while she wandered toward her bedroom.

Ava: "Oh you know he will, darling. He'll come strutting in here and he'll  be like..." She plastered an exaggerated frown on her face and deepened her voice. "Oh, Elizabeth, you look just simply frightful, what the devil have these - these nincompoops been doing with you while I was gone? If I can fly to Scotland whilst juggling a pack of wolves, one would think that they'd be able to to look after you between then. I shall have Jeeves lop their heads off!"

She was talking nonsense now. Anything to lighten the mood. Anything to coax her to do something - anything - that wasn't lying on her floor in floods of tears. Ava had no idea what to do with that. She knew how to gently tease and gossip and giggle. She was a good mate. As this conversation went on, however, she was becoming ever more sinkingly aware that she wasn't a particular skilled friend. She'd never really practiced it.

Her existential crisis was put on hold briefly as Ruth undressed right there and then, dripping with her trademark nonchalance at being stood in front of someone as she peeled her clothes off. Soft, tanned skin brushed futilely at patches of dirt and blood, her normally silky dark curls hanging in a matted, scruffy mess around her face as she bemoaned the state she was in. Even filthy and bedraggled, she was gorgeous. Ava was sure that in the same position, she herself would look like something that had crawled out of a swamp. Ruth's dark gaze and fascinating softness would shine even through anything.

She blinked as Ruth turned away and made her way out of the room, and realised that she'd been staring. Ruth probably thought she was being rude. Or worse, creepy. God, she wasn't a creep. She was just - well, tired. They were all tired. It was bound to be making them all peculiar.

Sighing, she got to her feet and picked up the dirty shirt, bundling it up in her arms and hovering for a moment, unsure of what to do. Finally, when Ruth had left the room, she tiptoed to the kitchen to find the bin to dispose of the shirt. And make some more green tea. God, she needed a cup of tea.

Ruth: Ruth winced as her first name left Ava's lips. She could hardly stand it when Marco called her by that name, as much as he was accustomed to using it for some godforsaken reason. When anyone else called her Elizabeth the feeling changed from a frustrated fondness to a sour taste that strangled her throat. Even if it was just a joke, a silly impersonation, Ruth couldn't help but wear a theatrical pouty frown. "I don't need to be looked after," she grumbled quietly. "I just need a slap over the head from time to time." Maybe a kiss on the cheek and a handful of compliments too, but she wasn't going to admit that to anyone. With a small sniffle, she attempted to fix her hair, tucking wild strands behind her ears and combing fingers through thick snarls at the back of her head. She was fine. She could take care of herself, when she wasn't swept away in the floodwaters of her anger and fear. Lifting her chin proudly, she dammed up the levee. She had appearances to keep, a reputation to uphold. Too many people were already questioning her sanity. They couldn't see her like this.

Ruth squeezed her eyes shut as she wriggled out of her tight jeans that gripped at the curves of her hips and thighs. Hopping precariously on one foot, she worked off her tiny striped socks one at a time, then peeled the trousers from her legs. It felt good to be free of the binding clothing that stifled her skin. She left a trail of stripped away clothes strewn about behind her as she meandered toward the bathroom. Her breath froze in her throat as she caught a glance at herself in the mirror, haggard and stained, with dark circles set deep under her puffy pink eyes and hair in an ugly knot at her neck. With a heavy sigh, she started the shower, waiting for the hot water to steam over the horrifying image in the mirror. In the distance, she heard the kettle bubbling to life again. Ruth plucked a cotton pad from the cabinet and doused it in makeup remover before she set to work wiping the streaks of black eyeliner and soft shimmery eyeshadow from her face.

A thought kept flitting in and out of her head as she dabbed at her face. Ava stayed. Even when Ruth looked like a walking nightmare, and wanted to scream at everything and everyone, Ava stayed. Ruth had snapped at her and told her to go, still Ava stayed. She wasn't sure what that meant, but it meant something. Staring at her pinkish, bare face with sunken dark eyes, Ruth was at a loss for reasons. Maybe there wasn't one. Ava didn't need to have a reason to be there. Without a second thought, Ruth padded back to the door to her bedroom so she could poke her head through and call to her friend. "Hey, Ava? I'm glad we're best friends." Then she slipped back to the washroom to climb into the shower.

[little-maynard]

Twelve Days of Jack (December 25 - Day 12)

Summary: When Sarah is invited to casually hang out with her Friend With Benefits, Jack, and his group of friends, things suddenly get a lot more serious than she bargained for.

Word count: 1.3K

[A/N] This mini series all takes place in the run up to Christmas. Each chapter takes place the day it is uploaded.

[Extra A/N] This is the last chapter! Thank you for reading everyone!!

Day One - Day Two - Day Three - Day Four - Day Five - Day Six - Day Seven - Day Eight - Day Nine - Day Ten - Day Eleven

Sarah woke up when the family cat started meowing. She stirred, trying to roll over and go back to sleep, but Dennis wouldn’t give up.

The cat hopped off the bed, walking to the tall windows and disappearing behind the curtain. When Sarah followed and pulled them open she immediately felt the cold radiating from the glass. Reading looked freezing cold, but snowless. It was quiet in the streets at seven on Christmas morning.

She picked Dennis up and carried him downstairs in her arms, holding him close to her chest to share their warmth, and put him down next to the breakfast bar. She was the first one up, so she got the cat his food and took her time in the bathroom to shower and put on makeup.

When she was still the only one awake at half eight she went back into her bedroom and dug up her phone from her suitcase. She had a few Christmas wishes from earlier that morning and from the night before, but also one from Conor, of all people.

Conor: Hey Sarah, I don’t wanna intrude, but did something happen between you and jack?

Sarah: Hey conor. Why do you ask?

When he still hadn’t responded after she’d sent pretty much everyone in her contacts a ‘merry Christmas’, she put her phone in her pocket and took her laptop downstairs with her. Dennis had already settled on the sofa, knowing that that was the warmest place in the house right now, right next to the radiator. She picked up a blanket and wrapped it around herself, cosying up next to the cat.

She kept an eye on her phone while she rewatched some episodes of Scorpion, until David came downstairs and watched it with her.

Their parents were last, bounding down the stairs at ten, still in their pyjamas. Their father always insisted on getting a new pair of Christmas pyjamas each year, preferably a crazier one than last year. This year’s outfit was a full elf suit, including fluffy slippers. He looked positively ridiculous, but his happy grin made up for it.

“Time for presents.” Her dad announced as David handed him a cup of tea.

Sarah put her laptop down, and as she went to put her phone on top of it she noticed the notification light. Conor had responded.

Conor: He’s being grumpy af and told our mum love doesn’t exist lmao

Sarah: tbh I don’t know if something happened?? Im not sure whats going on between us anymore

Conor: can I call?

“Sarah, presents.” David poked her side.

“Yeah, I’m coming.” Sarah said as she quickly sent Conor ‘later’.

They unwrapped the fancily packaged gifts one by one, taking turns. She received a puzzle book, a little silver charm for on her bracelet, and a Dungeons and Dragons book, each neatly wrapped in shimmering paper and decorated with a bow.

David was ecstatic with the new colouring pencils she had gotten them, as he had thought the specific metallic pencils he wanted were sold out everywhere, but he hadn’t taken into account that his meticulous planner of a sister had already bought them a month before.

“Alright, I’ll put the bread rolls in the oven. Who’s setting the table?” Her mum got to her feet, taking some of the wrapping paper with her to the kitchen to throw out. David followed her, and her dad got up too.

“Do you mind if I make a quick phone call?”

Her dad glanced at his watch, “Make it a quick one. We’ll have brunch in fifteen minutes or so.”

“That’ll be plenty.” She slipped into the garden with her pink socks on the cold tiles, and slid the glass door closed behind her.

Conor picked up on the second ring, “Hello?”

“Hey Conor, it’s Sarah.”

“Oh, hey.”

She heard the noise in the background die down as he supposedly moved to a more quiet room.

“What’s going on?”

“To be real with you, Jack’s being a right dick.”

“What?”

“He was acting weird all day yesterday, too. I think I know why, though.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I asked him what the fuck his deal was this morning.”

“And what is it?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. Someone saw you making out with some guy in that club Saturday night and it’s got him upside down.”

“I kissed a random guy because he was flirting with some chick!”

Conor laughed, “He told me about that too. Listen, my brother’s never been in love before and I think he’s a bit shaken up about it. He tried to sleep with some girl because he’s trying to take his mind of you. I tried telling him that if you feel the same there’s no need for him to get over you, but he’s being weird.”

“I do feel the same.” She said softly. It was weird to tell it to someone other than Kailee, but now that she had said it out loud she was sure it was true. She meant it.

“Can I tell this idiot that? His sulking is ruining Christmas.”

“Yes. Tell him to call me or something, okay?”

“Will do, thanks for saving Christmas.”

“No problem. Merry Christmas, Conor.”

“Merry Christmas, Sarah.”

--

Jack didn’t call.

She had her phone in her lap during the entirety of the Christmas brunch, and then while they played Monopoly, but he never called.

She was pretty much ready to give up hope when she started Christmas dinner preparations at four. Her mum had her chopping vegetables and David sautéing some onions, when her brother, facing the driveway through the kitchen window, suddenly asked, “Are we expecting anyone?”

“I don’t think so.” Their mum responded, not looking up from where she was preparing dessert.

“It’s a chic car. I don’t think I even know people rich enough to own a car like that.”

Sarah’s heart jumped and she dropped her knife. “Jack.” She breathed when she caught side of the car.

“Excuse me?”

But she was out the door, walking onto the driveway still wiping her wet hands on her jeans.

The car door opened, and out stepped that boy that had messed things up so much for her.

“Merry Christmas.” He said weakly, but when he saw her smile his face lit up.

“Merry Christmas.” She responded. “I thought we were done.”

“So did I.”

They fell into each other’s arms, each holding the other tightly.

“I can’t stay too long, I have to be home in time for Christmas dinner. But I got you something.”

“What?” She let go of him, stepping back.

He leaned back into his car and held up a long, slender black box.

“I got you this before I fucked everything up, but when Conor told me I still had a chance I had to bring you this. It’s only fair.”

He opened the box, revealing a thin silver necklace with a little ice-skate pendant. “It’s cheesy, I know.”

“It’s perfect.” She said, reaching out to run her finger over the cool metal.

He picked it up, “Can I put it on you?”

“Yes, please.” She turned around and moved her hair out of the way.

His fingertips brushed along her skin as he laid it around her neck. She shivered, only just now realising how cold the December air was against her exposed limbs.

“Can we please stop being Friends with Benefits?” She asked as she turned back around.

“Please.” He agreed.

She pulled him in for a kiss, ignoring her family watching them through the kitchen window and ignoring everything bad that had happened between them.

This moment made up for all the heartache the two of them had put each other through.

[secret-rendezvous1d]

Single Parent AU - Harry Styles.

what about when harry takes the reader to meet anne and robin for the first time and they would both be a bit worried at first considering what happened with harry's last girlfriend but end up loving her

I promise that I will get back into the swing of things in a short time, okay? For now, you’ll have to bear with the crazy times I post my writings and the lengthy time in between each piece before they get posted online; thank you for being so patient with me though, my lovelies. I appreciated it entirely. 

Feedback would be incredible - and let me know what you want to happen in the next part to the AU story. 

* A little warning; there is a very slight mention to (YN)’s past life - which includes violence and rape. Please, skip that small part if you feel uncomfortable with that kind of talk. *

Enjoy. xx

You’d been sat in Harry’s home for a little less than hour, at least. Arriving at the location in Holmes Chapel, tucked into a jacket yet still shivering when you caught the wind, when he was half getting ready and yet to look dapper in his chosen outfit for the night. 

He’d answered the door with his white and fluffy dressing gown tied around his waist, out of breath from running down the stairs, with wet hair hanging limply and dripping water down his cheeks and half of his face covered with shaving foam. His toes were still pruned, curling into the carpet as his ringless and bare fingers stayed hidden beneath the sleeves of his gown. A sheepish expression taking over his features as he realised that you’d never seen him in such a state before; he’d always made sure he looked tasty to the eye.

But, with a kiss to your lips and a hello being exchanged with a hug, he apologised for not being ready – admitting that he was usually ready and dressed and smelling strong of cologne a few hours before a big event he needed to attend – and he explained how he’d had to pop down to the bakery after someone had phoned up complaining about the alarm being set off unexpectedly and disturbing those who were quietly strolling through the town, window shopping and sipping on cups of coffee. 

You’d kept his little boy occupied with games and TV shows and chatter as Harry took a brief – yet lengthy and time-consuming – moment away to bolt upstairs and continue getting ready, stating and praising that you couldn’t have come at a better time that evening because he didn’t want to leave Asher all on his own in the living room as he spent a lengthy hour making himself look presentable for the night.

But, you didn’t mind.

Granted, if you’d only met Asher the one time and he felt uncomfortable, you would have minded.

But, you’d known him for over a month. He trusted you at the park, he agreed to bakery ‘dates’ with you and cuddled with you when he wanted comfort. He welcomed you into his life like his father had done and that was enough to tell you, wordlessly, that he felt comfortable and at ease with your presence around him,

“Have you got all your pyjamas ready?” You questioned Asher, a nod nudging into your side from where he was sitting beside you on the sofa, snuggling further into your side to watch the remainder of a programme you’d seen on the telly more than enough times and agreed to leave on for his entertainment, “and your toothbrush?” 

“Uh-huh,” he murmured, “daddy made me put it in my bag after I brushed my teeth after dinner.”

“Don’t wan’a have smelly breath, do you, hm? You can’t kiss all the girls then,” you teased playfully, tickling at his belly as he squealed and tried to escape the loose hold you had around him, “have you got your teddies? And your hairbrush? What about your shower stuff for the morning?” 

“Uncle Ni has all of that at his house,” Asher explained, “he even has duckies and a funny shower hat that he lets me wear,” he giggled.

“Are you looking forward to seeing your uncle Niall tonight?”

“He promised to help me with my spelling and my maths and he plays guitar for me like daddy does sometimes, and, he lets me eat ice-cream and marshmallows before bed,” Asher grinned, licking his lips cheekily as he shuffled up on the sofa cushions and brought his bent knees to his chest, his bare feet pressed against the cushion beneath him, “don’t tell daddy though. He doesn’t let me have sweet things before bed.”

“I promise I won’t,” you grinned, watching as Asher held his small pinky finger out, wiggling it as an invitation for you to hook your own around his digit, “pinky promise I won’t tell your daddy, Asher,” you smiled, linking and curling your finger with him. 

Unaware to the fact that Harry was stood behind you, watching and listening in awe, you leant forward and pressed a kiss to Asher’s forehead. Leaving a lipstick print behind, contrasting against his tanned complexion, that resembled your mark of love towards him. 

And with a swipe of your thumb, and a disgruntled sound leaving Ashers lips, you discarded the residue left behind. And Harry found this as his cue to interrupt and join in with the love that was being spread.

“Won’t tell daddy what?” Harry hummed, leaning on the doorframe belonging to the entrance from the hallway by the front door to the living room, a smile on his lips as he watched the adoring scene play out in front of him, “what are you hidin’ from me, Bugger?”

“Nothin’,” the small boy squeaked out in response, blushing softly as he rolled forward and buried his face into your shoulder, “nothin’, daddy.” 

“I’ll ask (Y/N) what you told her,” Harry warned playfully, stepping foot upon the carpet and walking closer towards the sofa, “gon’a tell me?” 

“(Y/N) won’t tell you, daddy. She pinky promised,” Asher smiled against your skin, nudging his cheek upon your shoulder, allowing his green eyes to stare at the identical ones that belonged to his father.

“She pinky promised, huh?”

He knelt down in front of sofa and squeezed Asher’s knee as he kept his face pressed to your shoulder. His warm breath flushing your skin as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, giggling softly when Harry’s fingers brushed up his legs and tickled at his weakened spots. 

“Uh-huh,” Asher smiled, bringing his knees closer to his chest, “ tha’ means she won’t tell you anythin’.”

“A’right then,” Harry smiled, sending you a soft wink before cupping Asher’s head in his hand, “gon’a go and get your shoes and socks on? Uncle Niall will be here shortly and we don’t want to keep him waitin’.”

“Why can’t I come with you?”

He’d been wanting to join you both at the dinner from the moment Harry had told him about it, coming to the conclusion that it was his family who were meeting up and he didn’t want to miss out and be left out by going to Niall’s; however, what he had failed and misunderstood, was that the dinner booked for that night was an important diner and, quite possibly, a big jump into your relationship with the both of them. 

It had been booked and planned and anticipated for a few days beforehand; the offer set up and started by Anne, who had agreed to book a table and organise the event for Harry, who had then invited Gemma to come along to welcome you into the family and get given the opportunity to know you a little better, know you were seeing Harry in a official way.

“Because me and (Y/N) are having an important dinner tonight. Your cousins aren’t going either. It’s just strictly adults, okay?” Harry smiled, raking his fingers through Asher’s sandy-coloured, blonde-looking, curly hair, “I know you wan’a see Nana and auntie Gem but tonight is just for us adults, yeah?”

“But-” 

“No buts, Bugger. Go on now. Get your shoes and socks on,” Harry ordered sweetly, chuckling as Asher huffed out a heavy breath and pushed himself up from the sofa, “you can come back and cuddle with (Y/N) when you’ve got your shoes on.” 

“Can she do my shoes up?” 

“’course I can, lovely,” you smiled, your eyes following his journey to the hallway where his shoes were located under the coat rack before you returned your attention to the man crouching in front of you, “you look really handsome, Harry. Floral suits you.”

“Thank you, very much, indeed,” he winked, “you look very beautiful,” he praised, standing to his feet and bending over to press a sweet-tasting kiss to your red-coated lips, “navy blue is definitely your colour.”

“You think so?” You giggled, pushing your forehead against his, “you should’a seen my bed this afternoon. It was hidden under all my clothes. It still is hidden under a mountain, actually. And, Lucy was my decider on what to wear. She gave me this bracelet,” you held your wrist up and allowed the diamond encrusted band to shine and shimmer beneath the light of the living room, “and the shoes, too. As soon as she saw this dress, she remembered she had the shoes.”

Harry looked down, catching the navy blue pumps sitting comfortably – a little too big but not entirely visibly – on your feet. Your toes painted a beautiful silver colour with a glimmering shine to them when they caught the light behind his shadow.

“You look beautiful. You’ll be the most beautiful at the table tonight, I think,” Harry smirked, bumping his nose to yours before retreating back to his full height. 

“Nonsense. You have to say that since you’re my boyfriend. I’ve seen photos of your mum and your sister. They’re stunning,” you admitted, looking down to your lap and twiddling your fingers as the doorbell shrilled around the lower level of the house, “I feel intimidated already and I’ve never met them.”

“Don’t be silly, you donut,” Harry chuckled, stepping across the carpet and jogging towards the hallway, directing his attention to his young son settled on the bottom of the stairs with his shoelaces hanging from his shoes, “Uncle Niall’s here. Do you wan’a go and get your shoes done up with (Y/N) and then run up and get your things from your room? I’ll get your coat and hat ready.” 

“Okay.”

As Asher carefully made his way back towards the living room, jumping up on the sofa, Harry could hear the mumbles leaving his lips as he asked you to tie his boots up tightly on his feet. A smile found it’s way on his lips as he pulled open the front door, his blonde best friend coming into view with is car keys swinging on his index finger. 

“A’ight, lad?” Niall grinned, stepping foot in the house before Harry closed the door behind him, “where’s the little man?”

“He’s in the living room,” Harry smiled, “with (Y/N).” 

“Your girlfriend? She’s here?” Niall grinned, clapping Harry on the back with laud and excitement, his mouth curved into a grin as he beared his pearly whites from behind his flesh, “le’me go and meet her.”

“Go gentle with your introduction, yeah? I know how you can get. You’re the first of my mates that she’s actually met in the last month or so,” Harry warned gently, grabbing his arm before he made his appearance in the living room, “don’t make jokes or say anything stupid. And, don’t you dare embarrass me. Just, introduce yourself and then take Asher. We’re already late, as it is.” 

“Are the others gon’a meet her?” 

“In due time, yeah. We’re waiting for 2 months to get here before we introduce one another formally to our friends,” Harry explained, “we’re going through the meeting the family stage first to work through any problems that may occur throughout this and then we’ll organise to meet friends and close mates. Depending on how well tonight goes.” 

“Louis and Liam would love t’ meet her, you know tha’. We’ve been tryin’ t’ set you up for years and now you’ve gone and got yourself someone perfect all on your own,” Niall grinned, puling his arm from Harry’s hold, “le’me go and meet the girl who’s makin’ my best friend happy.” 

With a teasing roll of his eyes, Harry dropped the topic and allowed Niall to walk into the living room, a chuckle leaving his lips as he followed in his footsteps and awaited the short introduction to begin.

“Uncle Niall!”

“Hey, little man!” 

“Come meet (Y/N). She’s daddy’s new girlfriend,” Asher cried out.

A shy smile found its way on your lips as you stood up to your feet and stepped towards Niall, holding your hand out for him to take as an open gesture to introduce yourself.

“Hi,” you whispered shyly, “it’s really great to meet you. I’ve heard lots about you.”

“Put that hand away,” Niall chuckled, “I’m a hugger,” he confessed, his arms open wide as he took lengthy strides towards you to engulf you into a warm hug. 

“Niall,” Harry warned.

“No, no,” you giggled, “it’s okay. I’m a hugger too, I s’pose. It’s really a pleasure to meet you, Niall.”

“It’s an honour to meet you too,” Niall agreed, pressing his lips to your forehead in a friendly and inviting manner, “it’s good to meet the one who’s made a smile appear on Harry’s face again. He’s always cheery on the outside but dull on the inside so we know when he’s fakin’, love.”

“Niall,” Harry scolded, “enough.”

“Very protective already, eh?” Niall teased, pulling away from your body and looking down at Asher who was stood beside Harry’s legs, “we best be off, yeah? I’ll bring him back tomorrow afternoon to give you two time to stop your naughty shenanigans, yeah?”

“Not gone that far, Niall. And please, children present. Be a little less vulgar towards that situation,” Harry sighed, pressing the pads of his fingers to Asher’s back before crouching down to the height of his son, “be a good boy for Niall tonight, yeah? I love you, Bugger.” 

“Love you, too.”

“Me, you and (Y/N) will go out for dinner one-day next week, yeah? How does that sound?”

Asher nodded in agreement, with a grin plastered across his pink lips, an identical dimple – one he’d most definitely inherited from his father – popping on his cheek as he wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and hugging him tighter to his small frame.

“Go on now. Have fun and don’t play up for him.”

It was only a small matter of 5 minutes before four turned into two, the house seemingly falling quieter now that the source of all amusement and noise had left for the night, allowing the both of you to revel in the comfortable sound of silence with the joining pleasure of one another’s company.

“Sorry if Niall came on a bit hard,” Harry sighed, plopping his body down on the sofa and crossing his ankles over, patting the cushion beside him, “he’s been really looking forward to me finding a girlfriend and being happy again.”

“It’s okay. He’s your best friend, that’s understandable,” you promised, settling yourself down beside him and squeezing his knee softly with your dainty fingers, “I can only imagine Lucy to interrogate you after what happened in my last relationship.”

“I think I can handle a spotlight in my face and questions thrown left, right and centre,” Harry chuckled, looking across to you, “heard what Asher was sayin’ earlier by the way, and, it made me come off as some strict dad who never lets his kid have anything sweet-tooth like. S’not me at all.”

“Never thought that at all, Harry.” 

“You should see him when he’s had sugar after 9pm. He’s runnin’ round the house, giggling loudly and squealing and he’s a terror to put to bed when it’s his bedtime. I usually have to stick him in a warm bath and let the heat tire him out,” he chuckled, “even then, he messes up the bathroom and insists he gives me a bubble beard because it looks better than the scruff I have growin’ out on occasion.”

“Think you looked really, very gorgeous, earlier. Shaving foam on half your face should be a new trend,” you teased, sending him a cheeky grin, “I liked it.”

“Asher told me to shave off my possible beard because it looked too scruffy to be seen on a date with you, apparently. You’re very pretty and my beard just didn’t work, according to Asher,” he admitted amusedly, edging his face closer to yours in the closest proximity that had your skin tingling from his warm flushes of breath and had your mind crawling with the urge to propel forward and plant a loving and deep kiss to his lips – something you opted against, following his addition – “are you ready to go? We’ll probably be a little late because Niall was late picking up Asher, but, they’ll understand. Got 10 minutes before we get there, anyway. We can just blame the traffic if we need too.”

* * 

Harry. Anne.

We’re on our way. x 

We’ve already sat down with our reservation. We’re not ordering yet, but, we’re sat down. x

We’ll be about 10 minutes. Niall was a bit late in coming to collect Asher for the night. x 

You can order drinks or something, if you want. x

Are you sure? x

Of course, Mum. x 

Alright. x

Do you want us to get you anything? x

Don’t worry about us. We’ll sort it out when we get there. x

Okay. x

Did Asher go off with Niall okay? x

He went wonderfully. He wanted to come with us but I had to explain to him how this is important between us adults and he seemed to be okay with that. x

(Y/N) and I are going to treat him to a nice dinner in the week to make-up for him not being able to come tonight. I’ll take the afternoon off work and we’ll get him from school. x

That sounds lovely, Harry. x 

Tell her we can’t wait to meet her and we’re all really excited to welcome her into the family, okay? x 

I will. x 

See you soon. x

See you soon, Harry. Stay safe. x

* * 

The car ride seemed to drag through the estimated 10 minutes it took to arrive at the restaurant. Passing cars seemingly mocking you as the accelerated past Harry’s Range Rover and disappeared your vision.

Harry tried to make you feel as comfortable as possible through the 10-minute drive, hoping that you’d feel more eager to meet his family than bottling up your nerves and worrying yourself into a state of nausea and shaking limbs. A steady and soothing hand set on your knee whilst his thumb drew soft patterns into the bare skin showing from the hem of your navy dress, his fingers feather-light as the coolness of his rings sat on your heated flesh.

Yet, no matter how many times he tried to soothe your nerves, and no matter how many times he assured you that everything would be okay, it still didn’t settle the nauseous feeling that bubbled around in your gut. Attracting your attention, burning your throat and resulting in your limbs shaking in a visible manner.

You knew Harry was trying his best to soothe you.

But it didn’t kill the pressure building upon you.

And Harry knew - heck, he was sure that he was going to feel this way when you took him home; he did have the topic of having a child to slip into the conversation that was for sure going to shock your parents - your thoughts were beginning to drown you and distance you. And he couldn’t deal with the sudden swing of the car being parked in the bay as you freaked out and panicked and felt a wave of nausea run up your throat. 

“You have nothin’ to worry about, alright, love?” Harry whispered softly, his palm running up and down your knee as he took casual side glances every so often, partly to make sure you were still with him and partly because he couldn’t keep his eyes away from you because he was captured by your beauty, “I’m gon’a be right by your side tonight, okay? You’re not gon’a be left on your own and I’ll be right there if things do go awry.”

“It’s not that I’m nervous about meeting them, Harry,” you murmured, turning your head to the side and watching as he retracted his hand and changed the gear of the car, “I mean, I am nervous but I have so much pressure put on me tonight that it’s just intensifying, the closer we get to the restaurant.” 

“How so?” 

“I’m not just meeting your parents, Harry. I’m meeting your son’s grandparents. His auntie and uncle, too,” you explained, gulping nervously at the thought of being surrounded by those who took care of Harry when he needed it; those that were going to welcome you into the family based on the way you presented yourself through the evening, “I don’t have to impress them just for you. I have to show I’m good enough to be a part of your son’s life, as well.”

It wasn’t the typical and generic and the most common ‘meeting the parent’ storybook fairy-tale that would end in the happiest of endings for you and Harry.

You weren’t just having a polite dinner with his family. 

You were introducing yourself as a woman who had every intention to make Harry and his son happy, to promise that you weren’t going to break their hearts and to show how much they both meant to you. You had to prove you were worthy enough to be the mother figure in Asher’s life and you had to prove you were nothing like the girlfriend he had before you, who had ran out when things got tough and disappeared completely from their lives. 

You didn’t want them worrying about Harry because you weren’t going to ever bring that kind of heartache to him. And, nor did you want them worrying about Asher because the little boy brought something to your life that had you nurturing him like a mother would and talking like a friend would.

“You should hear the way he talks about you when he spends time with my mum, (Y/N). He absolutely adores you and he’s forever chatting away about you and what you get up too when you come round for dinner some nights,” Harry said with a breathy chuckle, “she’s had him every afternoon after he finishes school, since I went back to work and he started school again, and she’s always telling me over a cuppa about how thrilled he is to have you around.”

“He does?” 

“He really does,” Harry confirmed, a nod being passed your way as he brought he car to a standstill at the red light, “I think he’s helping you, in a way. Asher is so happy with you and having you around that my mum will just love you, right off the bat.”

“You think so?” 

“I know so. You make us both incredibly happy, and that’s all she wants. She wants us both to be happy and safe with someone and any woman who brings that to us is going to be a loved member of the family. You have nothing to worry about tonight, yeah? Forget all the pressure about wooing them and showing you’re perfect, because, Asher’s already done that for you.” 

Sending him a warm smile, you slotted your fingers through his that were wiggling on his free hand, the back of his hand resting upon the gearshift. Sitting as a wordless invitation to squeeze his hand to make sure you knew he was there and he wasn’t going anywhere.

“You make me happy, too, Harry. After everything that happened with ex-fiancé and being single for that stressful period of my life and just feeling really lonely, you brought happiness to my life,” you admitted, “I just don’t want to bring the wrong impression, you know? Asher speaks to fondly of me and I want to life up to what they’re expecting me to be. I don’t want them thinking that I’m some kind of girl who needs pleasure to relief stress and using you for a bit of fun.” 

“They don’t think that,” Harry sighed, revving the engine of the car as it proceeded to take you down the main road towards a turning that would have you nearing closer to the restaurant, “mum may have her doubts tonight but that’s normal because of how Grace left me but she already really likes you and she wants you to stay around because you’ve brought nothing but happiness to my life and to Asher’s.”

“How can you be so sure? It may just be a cover-up when you’re around,” you stated bluntly, your eyes focusing on the scenery passing by the car outside, “they probably talk about me when you leave and plot to split us up or something, Harry. I’m sure my ex-fiancé’s parents did that because they hated me from the moment they met me. They hated me even more when I got the restraining order put on him and took him to court because I was supposedly lying about him. Their precious son couldn’t ever be accountable of sexual harassment, rape and violence because he was too sweet and special,” you rambled on, your panic-stricken mind taking over completely and forcing words out of your mouth before you even processed them, “Harry, what if they hate me? They are going to hate me because they’ll-.”

As Harry chest constricted at the panicked words filtering from your mouth, he found this as his opportunity to interrupt. Because he couldn’t see you go through the pain of recalling your past and comparing it your present as it gave you a false insight to your future.

“Don’t be so silly. This relationship is nothing like what your last one was like. You’ve spoken to me about .” 

Meeting his family was a huge step in your relationship. You had to make a good first impression in order for them to base a judgement upon you and upon how you are with Harry and upon how you’ll handle life in the future.

To you, you weren’t being silly about the situation.

You were naturally terrified; and, deep down and hidden at the back end of your subconscious mind, you were more terrified about meeting Harry’s family than you had been meeting the family that brought up and raised and took the side of your ex-fiancé. 

“M’sorry,” you mumbled, tilting your head down to your check, your belly tingling at the feel of his thumb brushing over your knuckles, leaving a burning path behind upon your skin, “I can’t help it. I’m just terrified.” 

“It’s going to be more than okay,” Harry promised soothingly, “we’re in this together. If things go wrong, then, I’m going to fight for them to love you and I’ll prove to them that you’re too good for me and that I see us going far in the future.”

* *

“We have a reservation? We’re with a family who are already here,” Harry smiled softly towards the hostess standing at the welcoming desk, heat radiating from the heater hanging above the door as she stepped forward with menus in her hands and listened intently, “we’re with the Twist family? Or the Styles family. I’m not sure what my mum put us down for.”

With a look over the thick and worn-book book sitting beside a computer and a tall pile of menus, she smiled and looked up.

“Ah, yes. She’s put it under both Styles and Twist. They’re over towards the back end of the restaurant,” the hostess smiled, handing two menus to the both of you as she took dainty steps towards the table his family were occupying, “they’ve been waiting for you.”

“We left the house a little later than we should have,” Harry chuckled sweetly, teeth bearing brightly under the harsh light of the restaurant and appearing from behind his flushed and plump lips, adjusting the grip he had upon your hand, “I think we have it from here. Thank you.”

The hostess gave you both a warm nod, before shuffling around the empty tables and making her way back towards the desk at the front.

“Harry! We’re over here.”

The voice sounded sweet, and, as you peered around Harry’s shoulder, the sweet voice matched with the sweet face of who you could presume was Harry’s mother.

Your footsteps quickened in pace as you tried to keep up with Harry, standing as close as you could to keep yourself slightly hidden from the intent and intimate eyes belonging to Harry’s loved ones as they tried to catch a glimpse of the girl this dinner was slightly in honour of.

“Mum, hello. Hi. Sorry we’re late. Niall was late picking up Asher and we had a little moment in the car,” Harry smiled, looking over his shoulder and catching your nervous features in his glance, standing away from your hunched up figure and letting you come into clear view, “this is (Y/N), my girlfriend. Love, this is my mum, Anne. My step-dad, Robin. My sister, Gemma, and her husband, Michal.”

With each introduction that Harry gave, they each took their turn in smiling and waving, whilst Anne decided upon herself to stand up and get physical with her encounter.

“We already know so much about you, sweetheart,” Anne smiled, standing from her chair as Harry found comfort in the booth, her arms wrapping tightly around you as she pulled you to her body, “it’s so lovely to finally meet you. Asher talks about you all the time, and, Harry’s always speaking so fondly of you when he comes through. Even on the phone, I can sense the smile on his face.” 

“Mum,” Harry hissed, heat rising to his face as a blush formed visibly on his cheeks.

“It’s so lovely to meet you too,” you smiled, wrapping your own arms around her in a cautious and slightly nervous manner, “Harry’s always talking about you and how much you do for him and Asher and it’s just a pleasure to finally meet the one who raised him into such a gentleman.”

“Oh, stop it,” she laughed softly, pressing her lips to your cheek in a sweetened manner, “take a seat between Gemma and Harry. We’re about ready to order but we’ll let you get settled.”

“Okay,” you agreed, watching as Harry stood to his booted feet and allowed you to slot into the seat and shuffle up beside his sister, “hi, Gemma.”

“Hello, you,” Gemma smiled, holding her hand out and wiggling her fingers – a gesture you’d seen Harry do more than enough times, allowing you to realise it was something that had passed through he generations of the family – and grinning widely, a similar dimple popping on her cheek as you took a hold and shook it heartily, “it’s so great to meet you finally. We were starting to think the two of them were playing along with us. Always the jokers, I’m telling you.”

“Stop it, Gem.” 

“I’m jokin’, Harry. We knew she was real,” Gemma giggled, watching as her husband shook his hand, “this is Michal, by the way. He’s my husband.”

“Ah, yeah. Harry told me all about you both,” you stated, “I heard the ceremony was gorgeous. Asher’s shown my a photo album, too. You look so gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” she hummed sweetly, “you know, Harry finds weddings absolutely gorgeous. He cried at mine, I’m telling you. He’s a big softie,” Gemma teasingly admitted, earning stern glares from her mother and Harry – who, beneath the yellow-tinted light hanging from the window, sported deeper red and blushing cheeks at the truthful statement – with a deep chuckle emitting from Michal, “be prepared if you ever end up being his date to one. Pack some tissues for him.”

“Gemma, that’s enough,” Harry warned, snaking his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close to his side, “she doesn’t need to hear about that.”

“Only because it’s embarrassing for you. You snotted all over mum’s bare shoulder. Asher found it hysterical,” Gemma smirked, earning a soft nudge to her shin beneath the table from Robin and a muffled giggle to escape your lips, “I’ll stop now. But, we should definitely go for lunch one afternoon so we can discuss Harry stories, okay?” 

“I’d love nothing more,” you agreed. 

A short silence swallowed the table, contrasting and standing out between all the noise erupting from around the six of you, before a waiter arrived at the table with a notepad and pen in his hand.

“Can I get you two any drinks?”

* * 

The dinner itself, had gone down a treat. 

The table topics throughout the night had varied from childhoods and growing up in a certain area of the UK, to family life and the relationships you had with members of your family, to how school had gone whilst growing up and what you wanted to be as an adult, and ending it on talking about the job that you were currently employed in. 

Anne and Robin never fell short of information in the two hours, sharing sweet stories about Harry from when he was a child. Casually, yet on-topic, bringing up that he’d always been fond of baking from a young age when you spoke about your childhood and praised him for good grades in the home economic class he took when you spoke about how school had gone for you. They’d even added in short and humour filled stories about Harry growing up as a baby, cooing over bright his green eyes were and how adorable his babbling was and how he’d always find a way out of his cot when he was old enough and cuddle up beneath the blanket with the dog homing in Gemma’s bedroom - where neither of them could bring themselves to pick him up and take him back to his bed - and they’d made sure to squeeze in as many naked stories as possible to get him fidgety in his seat and burrowing his face in his palms, resorting to your neck after a while as you raked your fingers through his hair.

However, they’d carefully tittered around the chatter of Grace and found a way to discard her from their stories because Harry had a new start and, after being distant and ignoring the chances to see her son, they’d decided she was better off staying out of sight and out of mind.

And, as the desserts were delivered and everyone stuck in to their sweet treats sitting in front of them, the discussion of Harry’s bakery had begun to take over and the night ended with Harry’s mind filled with new additions and ideas to add behind the counter when it came to making a good sell and a living. 

* * 

The cold Manchester nip in the air bit at your exposed legs as the 6 of you huddled around the exit, bidding each other goodbye and promising to see one another in a short while before you separated and made your way back to your homes to dress down for the night. Giving Harry time to take you back to his home, make you a cup of tea, before finding comfort on the sofa beside you and pulling you to his arms. Subconsciously watching a telly programme that he’d fallen upon, and talking softly to one another, allowing you both to think back to how wonderful the night had passed by and letting you know, for sure, just how welcomed you felt into the family.

A hand cupped the small of your back as Harry shook Michal’s hand, laughing lightly at the topic of conversation that was coming to an end between the three men, disappearing and quietening down when he went to engulf his sister into a warm hug, planting a kiss upon her cheek as she returned the sweet gesture. She pinched at the apple of his cheeks teasingly as he nudged his face away and strained his neck out of her reach, frowning with furrowed eyebrows as he puffed out an irritated sigh. 

“Sweetheart? Can I, uhm, can I talk to you quickly?” 

You pulled away from your daze and looked towards the source of the voice, finding Anne with a soft smile on her features. You nodded sweetly and stepped away from the warmth radiating from Harry’s body. The jacket, that came paired with the suit sitting loosely upon your shoulders and hanging down your body in a baggy manner, being the replacement for the brief moment you were away form his body. 

“Of course.”

She took you to the side, a weary smile coating her lips as she took a deep breath and puffed it from her lungs, looking over to where her son stood with his sister. Laughing and joking and chatting away to Gemma and Michal as they bid more farewells to one another and left to drive home, leaving Anne to turn her attention back to you.

“Okay,” Anne started off, reaching forward and taking your hand loosely in her hold, “I’m going to be completely honest.”

Deep inside, your stomach wound into a tight, gut-wrenching knot.

It was all a façade. 

Her happiness towards you during the entire evening was a coat to how she truly felt towards you. Something you’d told Harry about in the car during the journey to the restaurant, and, something that you didn’t want to happen, deep down in your mind.

What you expected was a stern explanation about how she didn’t see anything happening and how she found you the wrong girl for her child, but, what you received was approval and love and an even bigger welcome to the family.

“Thank you,” she grinned, “it’s been so long since we’ve seen Harry so happy with someone. Granted, you’re the first girl since Grace left him and Asher but you should see what I see when he looks at you, (Y/N). He has a sparkle in his eye that matches Asher’s when he speaks so fondly of you after school. This is the same look he gave to Grace when they grew up together and started dating. His eyes would sparkle with so much passion when he spoke about her. You’re the first girl he’s ever felt this way towards and we’re so happy to finally see that cheek-aching smile sitting on his face,” she paused, running her hands up and down your elbows, “I just – I need to know if you’re going to hurt him in the future like Grace did in the past. (Y/N), I can’t see him heartbroken again. I can’t see Asher get upset now that he’s old enough to understand everything.”

“Anne,” you sighed out, “Anne, I would never do that to him or Asher. You have my word. I was in such a terrible relationship a long while before I met Harry and it’s been my intention to make him as happy as I possibly can. This is the first relationship where I feel wanted and welcomed by someone.” 

“I can’t see him heartbroken again,” Anne admitted, “it broke my heart to see him so broken. It broke my heart when she left him whilst he was still a few months old. Harry took on being a single dad at 20-years old and I’m so proud of him but I know he was hurting. He couldn’t nurture his little boy like a mother would and he struggled and I can’t see him go through that again.”

“I promise you, I won’t ever break his heart, Anne.”

She gave you a warm smile and the knot that wound your stomach tight had begun to loosen and unravel within you, allowing a wash of relief to swallow you whole. Forming a relaxed look on your face as her hands retracted from your elbows.

“He really likes you,” Anne pointed out, her son’s eyes focused on your figure as he burned a whole into the side of your face, a smile toying on his lips as he stood up from his seat on the bench, “Asher really likes you. And that’s all we could ask for to make us like you too, (Y/N).” 

“I really like him, too. Asher, as well. They’ve changed my world around and I’ve never been happier.”

* *

“Everything’s going okay then, yeah?” Robin smiled, clapping Harry on the back as they perched on a bench outside the restaurant. Harry’s forearms, bare from the sleeves of his shirt that he’d rolled up to his elbows and exposed to cold chill in the air, sat on his knees as he leant his weight on his limbs, smiling across to Robin as he took his seat beside him, “she’s a lovely girl, Harry. Think your mum really likes her. And, Gemma’s really liking her, too.” 

“She’s amazing,” Harry stated truthfully, a smile on his lips, “I’ve never been so happy with my life. When Grace left me, I never thought I’d ever be as happy as I was. 5 years. It took 5 years for me to finally realise I could be happy and to realise that I do have someone out there for me and, I know it’s only been a short month and a little bit, but we’ve spent so much time together during these last few weeks and I just love her company,” he mumbled softly, looking down to his booted feet and watching as the streetlight caught on the polished black leather, “I really like her, and, she’s just amazing and I just want everyone I know to like her, too.” 

“Asher likes her too?” 

“He adores her. Absolutely bleedin’ adores her, Robin,” Harry explained with happiness laced in his tone, “forever hanging off her and sitting with her on the sofa and watching telly with her. We had a bit of a tough bit before, when he first met her as my girlfriend, but (Y/N) made it better and they’ve been sort of inseparable since,” he chuckled.

“It’s great to see you happy again, Harry. You’ve got a stunning little boy and a gorgeous girlfriend. You’ve come up from the down in your life and you’re finally getting that happy ending we’ve always spoken about, eh?”

It came out with a chuckle, but, the both of them knew it was the truth; it was far from a joking matter.

“I am. I really am,” Harry spoke fondly, “she’s amazing, Robin. Everything I could ask for. She’s absolutely fantastic with Asher and she’s made me so happy and she was so understanding of everything that happened with Grace. She didn’t run away when things went sour with Asher and she fought for us.” 

“Your mum, yeah, she told me about the time she went distant and everything went a little sour and you got upset. You know we’re worried about you when it comes to girlfriends and dating, Harry. Especially since you’re so fragile.”

“That was just a silly breakdown, I promise. She went so distant from me that it put me back to when Grace left me,” Harry confessed, standing to his feet and brushing the back of his jeans from any dampness that he’d seated upon, “I felt so stupid breaking down after a few weeks of knowing one another but she feels so special to me.” 

“Harry,” Robin started, shuffling beside him and standing to his feet as they took short and gentle steps towards you and Anne, “keep her around, yeah? She’s wonderful.”