#got told by an italian woman last month that she was impressed I used the word 'mentre' and I was like. welp.

[essektheylyss]

New fun language learning activities: read Wikipedia pages for philosophical and political theories in your target language, just for kicks.

[forthegothicheroine]

The King in Yellow, 1949

Much of this story is true.  Warnings in the tags.

When I had pneumonia in my early teens, my mother brought home an armful of VHS tapes from the library to alleviate my misery.  Knowing my snobbish preferences, she had grabbed copies of whatever she found in black and white.  I remember something musical that I suspect was Busby Berkeley, I remember Mildred Pierce (a bad choice, as it turned out- the plot includes a young girl dying of pneumonia), and I remember a period piece called The King.  I faded in and out of consciousness while I watched it, but it soothed me while I was awake and filled my fever dreams with sparkling images.  I could never find it at the library again, nor at Hollywood Video or even early Netflix (once my father got the subscription service where you could order practically every DVD.)  It was a bit odd that it seemed to be so obscure, given that it starred old Hollywood legend Ingrid Bergman (and, although I initially forgot it, Marlene Dietrich.)  But even big stars make films that fall by the wayside in public memory, and it seemed that this was one of them.  Google was no help, and at the time that was that.

I didn’t see the film again until I was watching Turner Classic Movies at my grandparents’ house.  I loved watching that channel with them while filling out the crossword puzzle that came in their little TCM catalogue (all of it based on movie trivia, the only kind of crossword puzzle I’ve ever been any good at.)  I recognized a certain scene where Bergman stood on a balcony, looking sadly at the moon.  Her face had an expression of unutterable melancholy, and the crescent moon reflected in each of her eyes, giving the impression of two moons in one sky.  I had very little time to catch up on what I’d missed before we had to go meet my cousins at the local Italian restaurant.  I knew logically that the movie would be long over by the time we returned, but I turned on the channel anyway.  Of course it had moved on to the lesser known Alfred Hitchcock film Stage Fright, but then I heard Marlene Dietrich sing before I could reach the remote to turn the tv off in disappointment.  I knew that I had heard her sing before, and I knew it had been in The King.

Dietrich’s singing often comes across as somewhat campy today, with its Rs pronounced as Ws and it’s up-and-down tone.  Madeline Kahn parodied it brilliantly in Blazing Saddles, such that it was a bit of a disappointment when I finally saw Dietrich’s western Destry Rides Again and found it to be lifeless and inconsistent next to the parody.  Still, we remember her voice for a reason, and when I remembered it that night, I knew that its sardonic loneliness had rung through The King and made me shiver in my dreams.

The TCM schedule didn’t list The King in its time slot, but something else.  If I had taken down the name, maybe it would have helped me find it.  Sometimes the same movie runs under multiple names.

I didn’t see the film all the way through for many years, after I graduated college.  I had found a web page that listed public domain film noir, including one called The Masked Guest.  The website described it as a costume noir, and I curiously clicked on the link.  Once I took in the credits running on the youtube window, my eyes grew wide and I did not move from my place on the bed until the movie had run its course.

The credits did indeed list it as The Masked Guest, but I recognized the strange repeating design on the title cards.  They told me that in addition to starring Dietrich and Bergman, it was directed by Fritz Lang, and a character called The King was credited to “???”  (I hadn’t seen that kind of credit since the first Karloff Frankenstein.)  When the King finally appears on screen, though, it is unmistakably Orson Welles’s voice that booms out from behind his elaborate costume.

Here are the things I understand about The King, or The Masked Guest, or The Man in Yellow, or any other title I’ve found for it on public domain archive searches.  Dietrich and Bergman play princesses named Cassilda and Camilla, respectively.  Though Dietrich’s accent is German and Bergman’s is Swedish, they blend together to give the film the impression of being set somewhere on the map that I can’t quite find.  The scenery and camera angles are very Freudian, with a great deal of archways and pillars.

The first act of The King involves frankly dull romantic plotlines, and the only thing that really saved it was the feeling that the suitors were supposed to be insipid, a suspicion lended credence by the fact that the love interests were listed so low on the credits.  Dietrich is the scandalous sister and Bergman is the responsible one, though each takes on aspects of the other as the film goes on.  Dietrich sings her song at a party, dressed in a fake 17th century gown and leaning against a piano.  Although just a moment ago she had been laughing and joking with her gentleman friends, her song takes an abruptly serious tone (not seductive, not sentimental) as she tells the story of a city lost to time and memory.  Bergman slips away from the party and onto the balcony, where we see that wonderful shot of the moon in her eyes.  Is she mourning?  Is she longing?

Dietrich cuts off the song by abruptly screaming “Not on us, King!  Not on us!”  She flees the party weeping and shaking, and from there on the film goes mad.

Though uncommon, it is not unknown for movies to switch between black and white and color, done most famously in The Wizard of Oz.  The film The King recalls here is the silent Phantom of the Opera, which had a masqued ball scene tinted in shades of red and green that tried to provide a whole spectrum of color.  The effect is even odder in the masqued ball scene in The King- the only color that appears is yellow, highlighting things like candlelight, Dietrich’s hair, a passing gown, a vase of tulips.  It also highlights one particular masked figure, whose expressionless mask was decorated with a black pattern against a sickening yellow canvas- the same pattern I had seen in the opening credits.  The color of his costume causes him to stand out from the crown even when he is far off in the background, just one head among many others.  It must have taken long and painstaking hours of work to color in every frame.

Dietrich still seems broken up days after her song, though Bergman tries to coax her into joining the dance.  Finally, at midnight, Dietrich goes out to face the party, but only to demand that every guest remove their mask.  The yellow man with a voice that once warned America about a Martian invasion tells her that he wears no mask.  Bergman reacts with disbelief, but Dietrich starts laughing like a woman unhinged.  As she laughs, the yellow hue seeps out of the King’s clothing and face- if that really is his face- and begins to color the entire ballroom crowd.  I think that what follows is bloodshed, but if there is any carnage (doubtful under the Production Code censorship), the blood must be tainted yellow and splashed across the camera like daubs of paint.  Dietrich’s laughing face is doubled and tripled on screen until it dissipates, but even when it has faded offscreen, it feels as if her ghost continues to watch the proceedings.  

By the end of the scene (filled with German Expressionist camera angles and mad violin screeching), only Bergman remains alive, cowering behind a grandfather clock.  It does not hide her for long.  The King steps towards her and extends his hand.  Reluctantly, but with a fatalistic expression, Bergman takes his hand.  They walk away together hand in hand.  The screen shifts back into black and white, and then the credits roll before we can get a good look at all the bodies in the scene.  The credits say it was based on a play called The King in Yellow, although Raymond Chandler of all people apparently had a hand in the screenplay.

As I said, that’s what I think I understand.  It’s an oddly experimental art film for the era, and it may be awaiting rediscovery by the film festival crowd.  I feel as if I alone know about it, though that obviously isn’t true.  It is my little secret; I tell myself that my husband doesn’t need me to show it to him, it would be too odd for his taste.  I’ve rewatched it many times, even if it seems like each time I search for it I have to find a different video platform or torrent.  Naturally, no subscription site has it available.  Maybe I am the last person who will ever watch it.  Maybe no one will ever think to look for it again after me, and it will be completely forgotten.

When I was hospitalized, they let me use my laptop at night before I went to sleep (no power cord, though, in case I tried to hang myself.)  I found a youtube link for The Man in Yellow, and I watched it every night.  It wasn’t a soothing sort of movie, but having it in my mind all day and then watching it in the evening allowed me to think as opposed to crying endlessly while the other patients shot me awkward looks.  I clutched the childhood stuffed animals my mother brought me when she visited, and I always held them extra tight when the masquerade scene started.

I watched the movie when I had to move away from my beloved San Francisco.  I watched the movie when I lost the last of my grandparents.  I watched the movie when a doctor unwisely took me off my medication and I couldn’t manage to eat for a month.  I watched the movie when the whole world got sick and we all locked ourselves away from each other.  I don’t mind that I don’t entirely know what it means.  I don’t mind the nightmares.  In the hospital they kept telling us about mindfulness exercises, and maybe the fact that I can focus on every aspect of the film so closely that all else falls away is the reason I keep coming back to it.  I’m being mindful.  I’m not letting any stray thoughts invade my head.  I’m just watching and waiting for the next beat of every scene, leading inexorably to that yellow-stained bloodbath.

Streaming media doesn’t last forever, and each time I find The King, I worry that it will be the last time I ever can find it.  My efforts to download it have so far been unsuccessful, odd considering that it is in the public domain.

When I watch The King, I am once again a child in my bedroom being cared for in the throes of agonizing sickness.  I am once again sitting on the couch with my grandparents in front of the tv, both of them alive and lucid again.  I am once again in the hospital, all alone except for my stuffed animals and the staff trying to keep me alive.  The film reflects in my eyes like the crescent moon in Ingrid Bergman’s gaze.  It sings to me.

I am determined to find a way to obtain The King under any name so that I never have to worry about losing it.  During some of the worst times in my life, it is the only thing that has kept me sane.

[moldisgoodforyou]

home again

wordcount: 7.9k

warnings: brief smut moment, mentions of sexual content

________

Rafe double, triple-checked their plane tickets when they went back home from Rome. They’d bought them separately but somehow he was convinced he’d screwed it up again - when he reached for his phone a fourth time on the train to the airport, Sophie reached over and took it with a shake of her head.

After making it through security and buying two breakfast sandwiches for them, Rafe tucked his backpack under her feet. “Can you watch this for a second?”

“Yeah, where are you going?” Sophie asked curiously.

“I’ll be right back.” He answered vaguely, kissing her forehead. When he returned, he had an entire bag full of Italian snacks and candies, all indecipherable except for a small bag of dark chocolate M&Ms that he tossed at Sophie. Her face lit up as she caught it and realized. “Oh my god, I missed these.”

He grinned and slid into the seat next to her, dumping the snacks into his backpack. “I know you did. I figured we could try these on the plane, for some entertainment.”

“I’m not gonna be able to sleep.” She tore open the packet and poured some into her hand before offering it to him.

He accepted a few, but not too much more. “Good, you said we weren’t supposed to sleep. We’ll be all jetlagged.”

“But I’m tired.” She whined, dropping her head to his shoulder.

Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of her head, lowering his voice. “Maybe you shouldn’t have convinced me to sleep with you last night then. Until 3am.”

She blushed and shot him an indignant glare. “You started it in the shower.”

“You dropped to your knees in the shower first.” He smirked. “This is your fault.”

“Nothing is ever my fault.” She declared. “You’re just too hot, that’s all.”

“Uh huh.” The airport called for boarding over the speakers and he hauled her up, pulling out their passports and walked with her to the line. He paused when she moved forward. “Wait, Sophie, aren’t we sitting together?”

“No, I’m 23A.”

“And I’m 23B - wait, no, shit, I’m not.” He frowned and glanced down at his ticket. “I’ll fix this.”

“Rafe, you don’t have to -”

Her argument fell on deaf ears as he went forward, glancing at people’s tickets. She held back a smile as he put on his best southern drawl and his most charming grin as he talked with the woman in 23B, convincing her eventually - with twenty dollars - to trade seats once they were on the plane. Once they boarded, he gave her a smug smile as he sat next to her, putting up the arm rest so she could lean into him.

“How much did you bribe her with?”

“Bribe? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never bribed anyone in my life.”

_____

The entire ride home, he didn’t sleep at all. Sophie fell asleep on him within minutes, curled into him comfortably, and he didn’t dare move and wake her up. When they made it back to Columbus and James and Colin picked them up - with a ‘welcome back from federal prison’ sign. Sophie just grinned and greeted them both with a big hug, giggling when James kissed her cheek and Rafe socked him in the arm. The whole drive back, she chattered excitedly, filling the boys in on all her adventures while Rafe barely stayed awake, his head slumped onto her shoulder.

They went straight to Rafe’s senior house to relax and she gave herself a tour right away, impressed by the clean house and lack of lewd decor. (It was going up next week, anyways.)

She wasn’t tired at all as she strolled into his room, making a big deal of the newly painted walls and a few plants scattered around on shelves. “Check it out! This looks so good, Rafe!”

He yawned - again - and flopped onto his bed. “Shh.”

“Didn’t you sleep?” She did the same, sprawling out on his bed. “I can’t believe you have a king-sized bed, I’m never staying at my place.”

“No. Couldn’t sleep.” He stretched his neck uncomfortably, groaning. She nudged him over, tugging at the hem of his shirt, and he shook his head. “Nooo. I’m too tired for sex.”

She giggled and tugged again. “It’s not that. Sit up, I’ll rub your back.”

He sat up just enough to tug his shirt over his head and flopped back down to the mattress on his stomach. She crawled onto him and straddled him to massage his shoulders, digging her thumbs into the base of his neck. He groaned, twisting a little. “Lotion. In my nightstand drawer.”

“Ew, is that for -”

“My hands get dry, dummy, get your head out of the gutter.”

She flicked his neck. “Be nice or I’ll leave you alone.”

“No, baby, stay.” He whined, flexing his back a little as she stretched. She smiled to herself, appreciating his muscles and traced a finger down his spine. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

“Watch your hands.”

“I’m just touching your back.” She dug in a little harder into his shoulders, grinning when he groaned in appreciation.

“Yeah, and I know how touchy you can get.” He quipped, closing his eyes and letting her continue the massage. “Handsy.”

She teased his fingertips under the waistband of his shorts. “You’re gonna have to shower anyways.”

It took about two seconds for him to change his mind. “Hmm….fine. But I’m not gonna do any work if you start something.” He yawned. “And you’re not done on my back.”

She rolled her eyes and got back to work, pleased by his little satisfied noises. She was just about to roll him back over and tug down his shorts when James slammed his palm on the door. “Shut the fuck up, Rafe, we don’t want to hear you jacking off!”

“Jesus Christ, James, come in!” Rafe yelled back with annoyance lacing his tone. James came in to see their (mainly) innocent position. “Oh. It sounded like you were doing something else. Hi Sophie, I didn’t know you were still here.”

She giggled, crawling off of Rafe. “Hey. We weren’t -”

“Yeah, I can see that. My bad.” He went to leave and paused, sticking his head back in the door. “You should know, though, my room’s right below his. And we all share that bathroom, so I’d prefer things to be cleaned. Regularly.”

“Get out, James.” Rafe pointed with a glare. James nodded with a grin and left, the door clicking shut behind him. Sophie gave him an apologetic smile. “He’s really just below us?”

“Yeah. I don’t fucking care, I told him I’d buy him a white noise machine. C’mere.” He flipped over and pulled her up to his hips, groaning obnoxiously loud when his hard cock brushed against her core.

She giggled, rocking back and forth on him. “Now you’re just being annoying.”

“Good. He’s been worse, bringing home a different girl every weekend for a straight month before I left. Colin says he’s going through his hoe phase.” He yawned, tugging at her shirt. “You have about ten minutes to fuck me before I pass out in this bed.”

Sophie rolled her eyes, pulling off her shirt. “That’s it? Sure it’s worth it?”

“Angel, please.” He nearly begged, pulling her down to kiss her desperately, grinding his hips against hers.

“Okay, okay, you’re so needy.” She teased. “Let me just take care of you.”

“No, I want -” He started, cutting himself off when she pulled out his hard cock from his shorts and stroked down his length, making him hiss. “Okay. That’s fine.”

She rolled her eyes and ducked down to take him into her mouth, not giving any warning. He nearly groaned again until she reached up and slapped her free hand over his mouth. “Shh. Stay quiet or I’ll stop.”

He let his head fall back so she couldn’t see him and fisted the sheets, bucking up into her mouth. “So good. So fucking good, baby.” He mumbled against her hand, just loud enough that Sophie could hardly hear.

It didn’t take long for him to come, especially with the way she sucked on him and twisted her wrist at the same time. When he did, her hand still clapped against his mouth, he let out a satisfied sigh and grinned down at her. “You’re incredible.”

She removed her hand and gave him a quick kiss. “You’re too easy. I think that was four minutes.”

“Can’t help it. You were all touchy, you know what that does to me.” He tried pulling her close, all sleepy, and she gently swatted her hands away.

“No, baby. I gotta go home and shower, then unpack. And I want to get dinner with Allie and Jules.”

He frowned. “What about me?”

“I’ve been with you nonstop for three whole weeks.” She grinned and gave him another short kiss. “You’ll be okay. We’re gonna have to go back to sleeping apart sometimes.”

“Noooo.” He grumbled, reaching for her as she stood and tugged her shoes back on.

“Welcome back to reality, Cameron.”

“But you - you need your turn -” He tried arguing helplessly and she just grinned.

“I own a vibrator, remember?”

“Fuck. That thing.”

“Don’t worry.” She leaned against the wall with a smirk, arms crossed. “I’ll let you borrow it sometime. Can you drive me?”

Rafe sighed but ambled out of bed, tugging his shorts back up and pulling his shirt on. “This is not how I expected the night to go.”

“We both know you’re gonna pass out in bed the second you get back. Hopefully after a shower.”

“Yeah, probably.” He yawned, stretching. “If I’m not texting you by one in the afternoon tomorrow please check on me.”

She nodded seriously and shook his hand, making him laugh. “You have a deal. Don’t forget you have to pack though, we’re going home in two days.”

“We are home…?”

“Home home. Remember? We booked the flights yesterday in Rome?”

He nodded in recognition, casting a glance at his stuffed suitcase on the ground. “Right. Remind me why I couldn’t just ask for the plane?”

She scowled before she could catch herself. “I thought you didn’t want to see your dad when you were home.”

“Touché.” Rafe noticed her scowl but didn’t mention it, not having the energy to persist. He grabbed his keys and took her hand, bringing her out to the car. “C’mon, my chariot awaits.”

____

The two of them spent their two days before going home very differently - Rafe slept nearly the entire time, woke up at night to go get tacos with the boys, then went back to bed. Sophie decorated her entire room within four hours, set up her senior architecture studio, and had meetings with a professor, an advisor, and the co-president of the alumni mentorship program. (Rafe was exhausted just from seeing her texts about her schedule.)

The girls dropped them off at the airport only forty five minutes before their flight, despite Rafe’s protests that it wasn’t nearly enough time and Sophie’s argument that she’d made a flight with less time on a tiny airline in Spain. Their flight was inconvenient, as always - they had to fly into Virginia and take a 2.5 hour ferry to get back home. When they finally arrived, greeted by the familiar summer humidity and the smell of the sea, her brother picked them up to bring them to Sophie’s.

“Soph!” He yelled out the window from the pickup line. Rafe noticed immediately and straightened up, grabbing her bag as well as his to walk to the car.

She beamed, waving as they came closer, and slid into the front seat while Rafe put their suitcases in the back. “Carter! Hi! I thought you were moving this weekend?”

“I pushed it back a couple weeks, wanted to see you before I left. How was Barcelona?” He glanced back and nodded at Rafe briefly in the backseat. “Rafe.”

“Hey. Thanks for picking us up.” Rafe smiled politely, nearly crammed into the backseat because of how far back Sophie’s seat was. He assumed Carter had moved it before he came to pick them up, but didn’t dare say a word.

“Yeah, no problem.” The rest of the ride was just the two siblings talking, mainly Sophie telling him about her study abroad and the trips she’d taken with Rafe. Carter kept his eye on Rafe in the backseat at a few parties of her story, especially when she stuttered over talking about swimming in Nice and Rafe’s birthday. (Rafe very pointedly looked out the window to avoid his eyes.)

They were greeted by Sophie’s dad when Carter pulled the car up in the driveway. He wrapped Sophie in a tight, smothering hug when she jumped out of the car, the two of them sharing matching grins. “Hey, Sophie girl.”

“Hi Dad.” She mumbled against his shirt, hugging him tight. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too.” He finally let her go and welcomed Rafe in for a hug too, ignoring his handshake. “Nice to see you too, kiddo.”

“You too, Mr. Flint.” He beamed and excused himself from the hug quickly to get both his and Sophie’s suitcases, ever the gentleman in his presence. “Thank you so much for letting me stay here, I really appreciate it.”

Her dad nodded with a smile, taking Sophie’s bag from him. “Of course. Come on, I’ll show you to your spot in the guest room. Soph, your mom’s out running errands, I thought we could all head out to the course for a round if you’re not too tired?”

“Sure, that sounds fine. Dad, did you forward that study I emailed you about using filtered stormwater for the course to the groundskeeper? So it’s more eco-friendly?” Sophie asked over her shoulder, leading the way inside and upstairs.

Jeff sent Rafe a knowing smile behind her back, shaking his head. Ever since Sophie really got into eco conservation in high school, she’d been pushing more and more for the entire family to make small changes. Her efforts got more and more involved as she learned more in college, and she’d had meetings with the groundskeeper at the country club no less than five times - he listened politely as a favor to her dad, but that was all. “I sent it, yes. I’m not sure how well it was received.”

“Oh, well, I can send you some more resources. It’s good to at least provide the options, you know?” She turned back and took her bag into her room, automatically going for Rafe’s as well.

Rafe smiled, subtly pulling it away and tried to redirect her dad’s attention. “Um, which one’s the guest room?”

“Other end of the hallway, just opposite Carter’s room.” Jeff gave him a pointed look and he nodded quickly. “Great, thank you.”

“Dad, you’re not seriously making him stay in there.” Sophie argued, giving her dad a pleading look.

“No, it’s fine! I’m sure it’s perfect, I’ll go make myself at home.” Rafe quickly excused himself, heading down the hall and just barely stayed in earshot of the two.

Her dad regarded her carefully. “Sophie, you can’t really expect me to believe you two had been in separate dorms that entire trip like you’ve been telling your mother, can you?”

She grew embarrassed, leaning against her doorway. “Dad...”

“I’m not oblivious, honey, I just hope you’re being safe -”

“Dad! Please. I don’t want to talk about this with you. Ever.” She told him with wide eyes and red cheeks, backing into her room slowly.

“Alright, just. Be careful. Both of you.” He warned her, patting her shoulder before heading back down the stairs, calling out loudly over his shoulder. “Be ready in fifteen!”

She just groaned and flopped back onto her bed.

“Ready, kids?” Jeff called up the stairs, exactly fifteen minutes later. Sophie was in the guest room with Rafe, sporting a golf tank from high school and a matching skort. The tank was a little tight across the chest and she’d flaunted into his room with it unbuttoned to completely show off her boobs, showing him exactly what was underneath.

“Yes sir!” Rafe called back, a little higher pitched than normal, and shoved Sophie’s shoulder lightly. “Button that up,” he hissed.

“You’re a prude.” She rolled her eyes, buttoning it back up to her neck but adjusted her skort to sit a little higher. (Nothing too inappropriate, but it was just enough to drive Rafe crazy.)

“I’m not - we are going golfing with your father, baby, and you look like several dreams I’ve had in high school. Do not pull something. Fix your skirt.”

She perked up, taking a step closer. “You dreamed about me in high school? What kind of dreams?”

“No. We’re not doing this.” He told her, but she didn’t miss the way he reached in his pocket and grimaced for a moment. “Behave.”

She grinned and practically skipped downstairs, with Rafe following close behind. “We’re ready! Dad, can we just play 9 today? I wanted to go hang out on the beach with Rafe later.”

“Our reservation’s for the full 18. What, you don’t want to play a full round with your old man?” Her dad teased, but she could hear the tiny tone of hurt underneath.

“We can go to the beach another time, the full 18’s perfect.” Rafe interjected. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep up with you though, Mr. Flint, I haven’t really played since last year.”

“Oh, you’ll be fine, I saw your form earlier this summer.” Her dad replied cheerfully, not noticing as Sophie mouthed “suck up” to Rafe behind his back.

They all drove to the course and split into carts, her dad in one and Rafe and Sophie in the other. As they rode to the second hole, Sophie kicked her feet up on the dash, ignoring the golf etiquette standard. “Hey, Rafe.”

He instantly reached over and shoved her feet off, casting a glance toward her dad to make sure he didn’t see. “Yes ma’am.”

“You think we could pull off a quickie tonight?”

He fixed her with a glare, unamused. “Sophie. Do not.”

She just smirked as she skipped off the cart to the hole, club in hand. She didn’t quit the entire rest of the game, murmuring little dirty things into his ear on the cart or pretending like she was going to flash him, bursting into giggles as he nearly wrecked the cart trying to lunge across the seat to keep her shirt down. Rafe was entirely distracted the whole game, trying to stay as civil as possible around her dad while also keeping Sophie in check.

Her competitive streak kicked in around the sixth hole, when she was losing by just enough. Jeff kept pointing out little imperfections in her form - her arms were bent too far, her hips didn’t rotate enough, her head wasn’t down for long enough - and Rafe winced nearly every time. Sophie took it all in stride though, and he had to remind himself that criticism from a parent was fine when it was paired with constant encouragement after she improved.

Her dad was a little more sensitive to how Rafe responded to criticism, starting everything with a compliment first and then phrasing the critique as a suggestion. At the end of the game - despite Rafe barely losing to Sophie, Jeff coming in first - he nudged Rafe and gave him an encouraging grin. “You’re looking good, kid. Might beat this one if she wasn’t so annoying.”

“Dad!” Sophie exclaimed. “I didn’t do a thing -”

“I raised you better than to whistle on the golf course, Soph.” Her dad pointed out as he poked her in the leg with his club. “Breaking every single etiquette rule out there.”

“It’s a simple distraction technique.” She protested with a sheepish grin. She had whistled at Rafe when he bent over to place his ball on the tee - twice - and thought her dad hadn’t noticed either time.

“If you’re using distraction to win the game, maybe you aren’t good enough.” Her dad retorted, laughing as Rafe’s eyebrows shot up at the same time as Sophie’s. “Go drive the carts back, I’ll meet you two at the car.” As Sophie grinned and started toward her dad’s cart, he called after her again. “No racing! Not again!”

She just ignored him and Jeff turned to Rafe with an exasperated grin. “I’m not sure how you kept up with her for that long in Europe.”

“I’m not entirely sure either, sir.” Rafe told him with a smile.

____

When they came back to the house, all a little sweaty, her mom had a tray of lemonade and snacks set out for all of them. “Mrs. Flint, hi. Thank you for this.” Rafe thanked her immediately, wiping the sweat off his brow.

“Rafe, it’s good to see you, thank you for keeping an eye on my child the past few weeks.” Her mom greeted with a teasing grin. “Sophie, Angie is coming over with the twins any second now, can you two watch them for a couple hours?”

Sophie scowled, flopping back into her chair and only straightened up instinctively when her mom tapped her shoulders. “Rafe and I were going to -”

“No, that’s fine, we don’t have plans.” Rafe cut her off quickly, nudging Sophie’s foot with his. “Who’s Angie?”

“Angie’s my older cousin, she just had her babies around February.” Sophie informed him. “They’re kind of cute, I guess.”

“They’re very cute, and it’s just so Angie and your aunt and I can go shopping for more baby clothes. You haven’t met them yet, you should be excited to see them.” Her mom chastised with a shake of her head. “You’ll have your own soon enough, so this’ll be a learning experience.”

Sophie nearly spat out her lemonade, affronted. “Mom!”

“Don’t be dramatic, Sophie.” She tutted and went back inside.

Sophie gaped after her, shaking her head. “Ignore her. Go shower, I’ll shower when you’re done.”

He wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that exchange, always a little confused by her mom’s well-intentioned insults. “I thought the kids were coming…?”

“Yeah, I can handle them and then we’ll swap.” She grinned, lowering her voice. “Or we could shower together and it’ll be faster.”

Rafe practically scrambled out of his chair to go shower, pointing accusingly at her. “Stop that.”

“Stop what.”

“You know - that.” He gestured wildly at the way she’d leaned forward, undone a button and bit her bottom lip. “You’re teasing. Just wait until we’re back in Ohio, please.”

She just smirked and leaned forward to kick his ass lightly. “Go.”

____

When she came back down after her slightly-too-long shower with damp hair, she stopped in her tracks at the base of the stairs. Rafe had one of the babies napping in the play crib and the other asleep on his chest, tiny fingers curled around his pinky as he carefully rubbed her back. Sophie took a quick photo before he could notice and approached quietly, combing her fingers through his hair affectionately.

He lifted his head to smile at her, whispering. “She fell asleep like this, isn’t she sweet? I think this one is baby Ava.”

She laughed quietly, shaking her head. “That’s Amelia. Ava’s in the crib, she has more hair.”

“Oh. Look at her tiny fingers, Sophie.” He murmured, so proud that he was able to get them to stay asleep. When Angie had arrived, she’d brought in both car seats and set up the crib, then handed off both still-sleeping babies to him with only a short introduction. She’d nestled Amelia on his chest, telling him she slept better that way, and thanked him profusely before leaving with Sophie’s mom.

“Babies are so weird.” Sophie replied, a little too loud. “At least they’re starting to get cute.”

He shushed her immediately with a glare. “They’re not weird.”

“How are you so good at this?” She cocked her head, considering picking up Ava from the crib but not trusting her skills.

“Dunno. I like kids.” He traced small circles on Amelia’s back, quietly shushing her when she cooed a little. After a few moments, he glanced up at Sophie with a smile. “How many do you want?”

“I’m not giving you a baby any time soon.” She told him pointedly, leaning into him a little. “But I guess if you really want, I could start calling you daddy…”

He shuddered, his whole face scrunching up into a scowl. “I hope that’s not a kink of yours because I’m really not sure I could entertain it.”

She giggled, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’m just kidding. Um, I don’t know that I’ve thought about it. I’ve only ever thought as far as my job.”

“Wait, really? Never?”

She shrugged. “Nah. I liked having Carter growing up though. You’ve thought about it?”

He nodded confidently. “Yeah. Two or three’s perfect, I think. Not too much of an age gap in between. A good mix of girls and boys. I want to...yeah.”

Sophie furrowed her brow, turning to face him. “You want what?”

“I want to be a good dad. To do it right.” He told her, a little shy. “I’m not sure I could, but -”

“You will.” She interrupted him, firmly. “I know you will.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, baby. You’re going to love our kids so well -”

“Our kids?” He interjected with a small grin, making her blush as a matching blush crept up on his cheeks.

“Sorry, did you plan on having kids with someone else?” She raised her eyebrows.

“No. ‘Course not. Just didn’t know you planned on having them with me.” His grin grew to split across his cheeks, beaming.

She shook her head, feeling herself grow bright red. “Well, yeah. Later, but yeah. You’re it for me, Rafe.” She told him, her voice going a little soft.

He nodded, reaching out to grab her hand and kiss the back of it, the most movement he could make without disturbing the baby. “Good. My favorite.”

“My favorite.” She echoed softly, leaning back into him. As the garage door opened and both babies startled, Ava starting to wail, she scowled and stood to pick her up, holding her out at arm’s length as she began to scream. Amelia began to wake but stayed quiet, her little fist tightening around Rafe’s finger.

“Actually hold her, Soph.” He told her with a skeptical glance at the way she was clearly uncomfortable around the baby. She moved her grip to be able to rock the baby but Ava kept screaming, sensing Sophie’s lack of experience.

Just as Sophie was about to place her hand over Ava’s mouth, Angie came in with an exasperated sigh. “Oh, baby, it’s okay, did the garage wake you?” She cooed, immediately soothing her daughter.

Sophie’s mom followed, smiling at the sight of Rafe completely comfortable with Amelia quietly on his chest still. “Look at that, you’ve got the natural instinct.”

“Oh my god, can I take you home with me? Sophie, I’m stealing your boyfriend.” Angie joked, winking at Rafe.

He laughed, getting up carefully so he didn’t shift Amelia too much and carefully placed her back into the crib. “I wouldn’t mind a little babysitting, but I’ve got to go back to Ohio for our senior year at the end of the weekend.”

“Right, of course.” Angie nodded, giving him a grateful smile.

Sophie rolled her eyes at Rafe behind Angie’s back. “Thanks for letting us watch them for a bit, Ang, they’re adorable, but we kind of have plans…”

“But you'll be back after dinner?” Her mom asked. Sophie resisted a scowl while Rafe just gave her an eager smile. “We’ll be back for dinner, no worries.”

“Okay, see you later!” Sophie practically dragged him upstairs, pulling him into her room and shutting the door before he could protest. He immediately reached for the doorknob, but she grabbed his hand and leaned up to kiss him, hard.

Rafe kissed her back for a few moments before he was reminded where he was and pulled back quickly. “Soph, we can’t.”

“I just want to kiss you.” She argued with a pleading tone, pouting a little.

“I thought we were leaving? Going to the beach?” He dodged another attempted kiss from her, easily slipping out from where she had him pinned against the door and stepped away from her.

“Right. I have to change.” She pulled off her shirt and bralette in one fell swoop, then kicked off her shorts too before he could blink.

He gaped for a moment when he realized she was completely naked, his voice lowering a little. “Baby.”

“Yeah?” She strolled over to her dresser, pretending to rifle through her drawer of old swimsuits, and settled on a hot pink string bikini. She’d bought it in high school and kept it in her car to change into for pool parties, because if her mom ever caught her in it she was sure she’d be transferred to a Catholic boarding school immediately. She knew for a fact Rafe had seen it before, even complimented her in it back in high school, and was hoping he’d recognize it.

He did.

Right away.

“Soph, not - not that one.” He implored, voice cracking. He could feel his throat going dry as he fought every urge in his body telling him to go over to her and have his way with her right that instant, trying to remind himself that her parents were literally right downstairs.

She held back a grin as she shimmied into the bikini, tying it up behind her neck. “What’s wrong with this one?”

“I’m getting you back for this. All this teasing today. I swear. I - I -” He couldn’t even come up with a decent half-hearted threat as she strode closer, letting her hair down from her claw clip, and a big whiff of her shampoo overloaded his senses.

“You’ll what.”

“You’re going to regret this.” He told her, and she swore she could hear the way his voice was shaking.

“What are you gonna do? Punish me? Tie me up?” She teased, and the hint of a laugh in her voice was enough to break his spell.

“Sophie, please. No more. I’ll do whatever you want the second we’re back in Ohio, but I am really trying to make a good impression on your family.” He pleaded, eyes trained intensely on hers - though she was pretty sure it was just so he wouldn’t be able to look down at her tits.

“Okay, okay.” She grabbed her shirt from the bed and pulled it on over the swimsuit, her shorts following. “You don’t have to try so hard though, you know?”

“I know, I just. I want to do this right.” He relaxed a little once she got dressed, but was still mainly tense. “Can I, uh, use your bathroom?”

Sophie sat back on the bed, sending him a confused glance. “No one uses the one out in the hall by the guest room, just use that.”

“That one doesn’t have a shower.”

“You just showered - oh.” She realized as soon as Rafe’s slightly pained expression set in and she noticed the bulge in his shorts. Sophie grinned, satisfied. “I could take care of that faster, y’know.”

“I think I’d still be hard after.” He confessed with a shake of his head, quickly letting himself into the bathroom and ignoring her giggles as he locked the door.

____

They were only out at the beach for a couple hours before they had to return home, but it was like she could see the tension literally unraveling from Rafe’s body when he wasn’t under the pressure of impressing her parents. They laid out their towels with a little overlap and she had her head on Rafe’s arm as they sprawled out on the beach, uninterrupted. When his phone chimed, he nudged her a little. “Can you grab that?”

Sophie sat up to get his phone from her bag at their feet. “Your dad texted.”

“What does it say?”

“I don’t know your password.”

“You did the Face ID thing for it in France, remember?” He didn’t move a muscle, halfway to falling asleep out in the sun.

She cocked her head, surprised when the phone unlocked. “I thought you would have taken it off, thought it was just for traveling.”

“Nope. I have nothing to hide.” He nudged his sunglasses down and squinted up at her. “What does it say?”

“Oh, right.” She opened his text, frowning a little. “Um, he said he saw you leaving the country club the other day and wants you over for lunch tomorrow.”

“Fuck.” He muttered, sitting up with a sigh and took the phone from her to read over the text to see if there were any undertones of him being in trouble. “Okay. You’ll come, right?”

“What - me? I don’t know if that’s really necessary -”

“I’ve been with your family all weekend.”

She frowned more, tucking her knees up to her chest. “I thought you wanted to stay with my family.”

“I do, I do!” He backtracked quickly, reaching out and skimming his hand over her arm. “But I want you to come with me.”

“Rafe…” She started, hesitant, but gave in once she saw his pleading look. “Alright. I’ll go, but I doubt he’ll want me there.”

“He’ll be fine.” Rafe shot off a quick reply to his dad, satisfied when Ward liked the message in response. “It’ll be fine. It’s just lunch.”

“Mmhmm.” She didn’t bring up how he sounded like he was reassuring himself more than anything. She stood, offering her hand. “Come on, swim with me.”

He kissed the back of it before taking it and hauling himself up. “I love you. You know that?”

“I know, baby. I always know.”

_____

Later that night, Sophie sat across from her dad as they got dinner ready. She’d informed him she and Rafe were going to Ward’s house tomorrow for lunch and her dad had merely replied with a noncommittal hum, asked her how she felt, and nodded again when she replied with a wary shrug.

“I never liked the idea of you dating.” Jeff told her as he sliced up watermelon for their dinner that night. Rafe paused around the corner, sent to the garage to grab charcoal for the grill, not wanting to interrupt.

“Dad.” She whined a little, embarrassed, but didn’t move from her spot across the kitchen counter.

“I didn’t, you’re my little girl. But I like Rafe, a lot. He’s a good kid, Sophie, keep him around.”

“I’m planning on it.” She murmured.

“You love him?” Jeff inquired, pausing his cutting of the watermelon for a moment. She merely nodded to respond with a blush and a smile and Rafe nearly walked out then just so he could see the look on her face, desperately craving the confirmation.

“He makes me...I just…” Sophie tripped over her words a little, tugging at the loose threads on her jean shorts. “I feel safe with him. With Luke, or Peter, you know, I -”

“I try not to remember them.” Her dad quipped with a smile, making her roll her eyes. “Go on.”

“Just, with them I didn’t really see much past what we had. But with Rafe, it’s different. Like, I know he’ll stick by my side. For...a while.” She decided, giving her dad a shy but eager smile.

“Well, when that time comes, I’ll be happy to have him in the family.” Jeff told her decisively.

“Me too.” She murmured, then hopped up from her chair. “I’m gonna go find him, he’s probably still rooting around the garage for the charcoal.”

Rafe carefully stepped back a few steps, just enough to quickly shut the door to the garage loudly and stroll in with a sense of purpose like he hadn’t just overheard the whole conversation. “Found it! Sorry, took me a second.”

“I thought you got lost.” She beamed at him, seeming to regard him in a different light for a moment.

He stood taller under her adoring gaze, smiling back. “Nope. Where do you want this, Mr. Flint?”

“Backyard’s fine. Know how to work the grill, Rafe?” Jeff set down the knife and pushed the watermelon toward Sophie so she could take over.

“Uh, not sure, I’ve only ever used electric.”

“C’mon then, let me show you how it’s done.” He clapped a hand on Rafe’s shoulder as he passed to lead the way out to the backyard.

____

Sophie was hardly able to sleep all night, so she crept into Rafe’s room around 1am, careful to only open the door just enough so it wouldn’t creak. “Rafe?”

He was awake too, just barely, and rolled over to greet her, whispering. “Hey. Why are you still up?”

“Can’t sleep.” She mumbled and crawled into his bed without invitation, laying on top of him and placed her head over his heart. He hesitated for a moment but eventually wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. “Me either.”

“Are you nervous?” She asked.

“For lunch? A little, yeah. But I don’t sleep well without you anyways.” He confessed, playing with the ends of her hair.

“That’s no good.” She traced little patterns on his chest. “Your dad hates me. Right?”

“I don’t think so.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, not bothering to add that he wasn’t sure she was even enough on his radar for Ward to consider hating her. “You need to sleep, sweet girl.”

“So do you.”

“You’re not supposed to be in here.”

She raised her arm with her watch aimlessly. “I set an alarm for six. I’ll go back to my room then.”

“Okay. Sweet dreams, angel.” He kept playing with her hair until he heard her breathing slow and deepen, and only let himself fall asleep an hour after, once he was sure they wouldn’t be caught.

_______

Later that day, after anxiously pacing the house all morning, Sophie was squeezing the life out of his hand as they walked up to his front door. He pressed a kiss to her temple before letting them in. “Soph. It’s okay.”

“Your dad hates me.” She told him with a straight face.

“He - I don’t think that’s true.” He faltered, punching in the code to the front door and toed it open when it unlocked. “This isn’t fun for me either, can you please help me out and not break my hand?”

“Right! Right, sorry.” She let go of him right away, letting him shake out his hand. “Here, let me -” She reached up to fix his hair and he jerked away, startled.

“He says it looks better gelled, don’t -”

“I’m not, I’m just fixing -” She carefully pushed a stray strand back into place and he gave her a grateful smile when he felt it. “Okay. We’re okay?”

“We’re good. Go ahead.” She nodded and followed him in, taking his hand when he reached out for hers.

Ward spotted them first, coming in from the kitchen with two wine glasses in his hands. “Rafe! Do you want wine? Um...Savannah…?”

Rafe’s face fell and his shoulders dropped as he clutched her hand a little tighter. “Her name is Sophie, Dad. I’ve only told you that at least ten times.”

“It’s okay.” She excused quickly with an overly polite smile. “We’ve only met once, at your Christmas party.”

“Right, right, I remember.” Ward nodded and set the glasses down at the table. “I’ll get you both a glass, hold on. Rose!” He called out, going back into the kitchen.

Rafe gave her an apologetic glance and she shook her head quickly. “It’s fine. Doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter.”

“Yes, well, it’s fine. Are Sarah and Wheezie here?”

“I already asked, Sarah’s back at school and Wheezie got out of this to hang out with some friends.” He had texted them the night before for support, but had no luck.

“Okay.” She reached up and stroked her thumb over his cheek, whispering. “Relax your shoulders for me, baby.”

“Right.” He nodded, but stayed tense. Rose returned with Ward a few moments later, with the whole bottle in hand and two empty glasses. “Rafe, you’re here. Sophie, hello, are you still jetlagged from your trip?”

“Um, no.” Sophie replied curtly. “We’ve been back for a few days now.”

“Oh, you just looked a little tired. Maybe it’s the lighting.” Rose gave her a sweet smile and gestured around, although the entire dining room was filled with natural light.

“Maybe.” Sophie forced herself to agree, sitting after Rafe pulled out her chair for her. All their plates were already set out with individual portions, and she noticed there was more salad on her plate than anyone else’s, but didn’t dare say a thing.

“Tell me about your internship, Rafe. You didn’t leave early for the trip, did you?” Ward asked, starting to eat and Sophie took that as an invitation to start as well. When she reached for the wrong fork, Rafe tried to subtly reach out and push the other one toward her.

“No, I finished it then went out to Spain. The internship was good, I learned a lot. I have a job offer from them.”

“You’re not accepting, of course.” Rose replied, then raised her eyebrows at his pause to answer. “Right? Aren’t you coming home after graduation to work with your father?”

“I have a couple options.” Rafe replied vaguely, taking a larger sip of wine than what was considered polite.

To his surprise, Ward nodded in agreement. “You can explore a few things before you come home, it’ll give you more experience for joining the board. A year or so after graduation, that’s fine.”

“You’ll let him swan around instead of doing his job?”

“A couple years won’t hurt anything. He’s in supply chain, Rose, it’s relevant work.”

Rafe had a small smile as he picked at his food with the fork, then lifted his head. “What if I didn’t get a job in supply chain? To start?”

Ward fixed him with a stern gaze. “If this is about your minor, I don’t want to hear it.”

His smile dropped as quickly as he’d found it. “No, yeah, supply chain is smart.”

Rose glanced between the two of them, then cocked her head at Sophie. “What are you studying?”

“I’m in architecture.” Sophie replied, tensing a little.

“Oh. That’s cute. I’ve been looking to hire someone to help decorate our parlor, actually -”

“It’s, um, designing buildings, not interior decorating. It requires a master’s.” Sophie cut her off, with a little more edge to her voice than necessary.

Rose nodded. “Right. What’s the starting salary, around 30k? It’s a good thing you’re with Rafe, you won’t have to sacrifice for a tiny apartment once you graduate.”

Sophie flinched, stabbing her fork into the salad harder than necessary. “It depends on the firm.”

Rafe stayed silent, staring at his wine glass. They all sat there quietly as the clinks of their forks and their glasses echoed in the room for a few moments as they all ate, or pushed around the food on their plates.

“Rafe.”

His head snapped up at Ward. “Yes sir.”

“Are you still wanting the plane and the house for your fall break?”

Sophie didn’t dare look up to show the surprise flash across her face.

“Yes, sir, if that’s alright. It’s just a small group.” Rafe replied, nodding quickly. “I’ll do that remote work like you asked, call into the meetings if you need me to.”

“That’ll work.” Ward nodded. “You haven’t taken Sophie down there, just Brooklyn, right?”

“Mm. Yeah. That was a while ago.” Rafe sighed. “I haven’t dated her in over a year.”

“You’ll love it, Sophie,” Rose smiled at her. “It’s the best, so luxurious. You’re probably not used to it so it’ll be a treat.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, hard. “Right.”

Rafe glanced down at his watch as he briefly squeezed her knee under the table. “Thank you for having us over for lunch, Dad, Rose, but we have to catch our flight tonight and haven’t packed up yet. Sophie’s dad is driving us to the airport.”

“Alright.” Ward rose from his chair at the same time as his son, nodding. “Call me, okay? Check in once in a while?”

“Yeah, Dad, of course.” Rafe relaxed into the hug with his dad, pulling away with a broad smile. “Maybe you could come up for parent’s weekend this year.”

“I’ll check the calendar. Sophie, it was nice to see you again.” Ward walked them both out and she was unbelievably stiff as she shook his hand, her jaw set. When they walked out hand in hand again to her dad’s car, parked at the very end of the drive, she stayed quiet.

Rafe slid into the car with her and gave her a grin, like the weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “That wasn’t bad, right? I expected much worse!”

“Yeah.” She nodded weakly, staring ahead at his house out the window. “Can we go?”

He started the car with a frown, reaching out to place his hand on her thigh but she shifted away. “Sophie. What’s up?”

“Let’s just get home.” She offered a fake smile that he saw through right away, but he didn’t press it.

The rest of the drive was quiet as Rafe turned the radio up and tried to ignore her leg jittering anxiously and how she kept switching her ring from finger to finger, a constant nervous habit of hers. When he pulled into the driveway at her house, he reached out again and stilled her leg. “Sophie.”

“You didn’t say a thing.” She murmured to herself, not looking at him.

“What do you mean?” He frowned and reached out to take her hand.

Sophie pulled back a little, but turned to look at him. “Nothing, it’s fine. I’m glad it went well with your dad.”

“But…”

She leaned forward and gave him a short kiss and a smile to match, shaking her head. “You said it yourself, we have to go pack. Come on.” She got out of the car and didn’t give him a second glance backward as she strode into the house.

Rafe sat there and watched, dumbfounded and unsure of what he’d done.

taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23 @babygal-babygal @thecuthoney @babeyglo

[chaoticpuff17]

A Dangerous Game

epilogue

masterlist

Here it is my darlings! The epilogue! I fully expect you all to come for my head, but enjoy! It’s been a pleasure to write it!!-- chaotic puff

Y/N enjoyed the August sunshine as she wandered the market. Her life had been peaceful since coming to the Italian countryside taking on a new name, a new life. She had taken a job at a local restaurant and found them a small house bordering one of the olive orchards that littered the countryside where Mark was able to find a job. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was freedom, blessed freedom.

Italy had been good for her. There was no JB, no Namjoon, no mafia to worry about. No one knew her here. It was the fresh start she needed after her time in Korea. Here she was a Canadian woman from Quebec by the name of Alice Morin living with her husband of a year Matthew, also from Quebec. It was quiet. The only unexpected thing had been the baby.

The baby had been a rather rude surprise. She’d only just escaped Namjoon when she’d begun to show early signs. It had been a doctor in Prague, one that she was not entirely sure was practicing medicine legally, that had given them the news. She was several weeks along in a pregnancy that she had never wanted to begin with, but she was determined to make the best of it, even if the child was Namjoon’s. 

She could remember turning to Mark with panicked eyes once the doctor had given them the news. They were on the run. They were trying to start a new life. They were both still grieving the death of a dear friend, more than one on Mark’s part. But Mark had taken her hands in his and smiled at her and told her that it would all be alright, that they could do this. It would be her tiny miracle, not Namjoon’s. He would make sure of that.

Eventually they’d made their way to Italy, establishing themselves in the northern countryside. It was a good life, more peaceful than she had ever known. The village was out of the way, vineyards and olive trees and above all sunshine. She loved it there, and for the first time every she was able to enjoy a pregnancy. 

She’d been almost too scared to acknowledge the baby at first. Mark had been more invested than she had worrying over the constant movement and stress it would cause to her and the little buddy as Mark called him. They didn’t actually know the sex of the baby. Because of the restraints on both funds and access to proper medical care, Mark had chosen the remote Italian countryside, and had settled on using the local midwife to deliver the baby when the time came which left them with no clue of the baby’s gender. 

Little by little, she had been able to become more excited about the baby. The nonnas of the village were more than happy to help with the pregnancy teaching her how to knit and sow, helping her put together the nursery, teaching her how to make proper Italian food. She couldn’t say how many times, she’d heard her boss being scolded by the local nonnas about letting a pregnant woman work so much. Mark also got his fair share of scoldings from the nonnas. 

They’d melded into the village quite well after being there for so long now, they had their own routines and rituals, a peaceful life. Part of which included her weekly visit to the local church to light a candle for Jackson.

The church was one of her favorite parts of the village. It was small but beautiful, like so many other things in Italy. The local priest was always kind enough to say a few words to her before he left her in peace to grieve and contemplate in silence. She’d never been particularly religious before, but this brought her comfort. After her trip to the church, she’d go to the market before she walked home.

“Buongiorno, bella donna!” An old man she bought flowers from every week called out as she came into view of his stall.

“Buongiorno, signore!” Her smile was bright, happy as she walked over “Come stanno i fiori oggi?” She asked looking over the flowers he had laid out.

“Oggi abbiamo bellisime dalie. Il tuo italiano sta diventando motto buono.” He complimented with a wrinkled smile already preparing the dahlias he had just mentioned. It was their tradition. Every week she would ask about the flowers, and he would tell her what he thought was the most beautiful that week and prepare a bunch for her.

“Grazie.”

“Come sta il bambino?” He asked motioning to the rather large swell of her belly.

“Calcia come un giacatore di futbol.” She replied with a tired but happy smile looking down at her belly with playful exasperation. She swore that the little one was trying to kill her from the inside out sometimes or at least enjoyed using her organs as a punching bag. “Sono pronto per la sua nascita.”

“Quanto tempo fino alla nascita, Alicia?” He asked handing her the bunch of dahlias.

“Sei settimane.”

“Cosí presto!” He cheered as she paid for the flowers. “Non veds l’ora di incontrare il piccolo. Io e mia moglie ci piacerebbe averti a cena quando nasce il piccolo.”

“Grazie. Mi piacerebbe molto. Ciao, signore!”

��Ciao, bella donna!”

She continued through the market stopping at stalls and bopping into the bakery to pick up some fresh bread all the while oblivious to the dark gaze that followed her movements. He watched as she laughed with vendors and smiled at the Italian boys that paid her compliments. His blood boiling. That was his wife, and she was pregnant with his child, and yet she was here with Mark. He was getting to play the father to Namjoon’s child. 

He’d been searching for her for months. Her disappearance had wreaked havoc on the manor, had wreaked havoc on him, but here she was perfectly alive and well and happy, and with another man no less. The entire organization had gone through an in depth cleansing, and GOT7 had been dealt with for good, all in preparation to bring her home. There was only one more pest to take care of.

 Namjoon had never once doubted that he would find her. There was nowhere in the world she could hide from him, though he was impressed by how long she had managed to hide from him. It had been eight months since he had last seen her, eight torturous months, but that would all be over soon.

It took every ounce of his self-control not to take her right then and there, but there were too many people there now for her to take her now. She would be in his arms soon enough though, and then she would never leave him again. To say he was shocked when he’d received news of her with a picture of her swollen belly would have been an understatement. He hadn’t even known she was pregnant at the time of her escape, but both she and their child would be home soon. From the look of her, it wouldn’t be long until they welcomed their little one into the world. Namjoon had immediately started preparations for both her and the baby as soon as he’d found her. Everything would be perfect for her and their child. All that was left to do was to bring her home. Her pest was already on his way back to Korea to suffer a slow and torturous death by Namjoon’s own hand. 

Namjoon followed her home carefully following her in watching from the shadows as she clipped the stems of the flowers and arranged them in a vase in her kitchen humming softly as she did.

“Hey, Tono.” She cooed as a cat jumped up on the counter next to her. She smiled down at the creature gently rubbing it behind the ears. “How did you get in here? You don’t live here, silly kitty.” 

She didn’t seem bothered though by the cat’s presence even if it wasn’t hers. She continued about her business arranging the flowers in their vase occasionally cooing at the creature in a mixture of Italian and English. Eventually moving into singing silly Italian children’s songs to the cat as it basked in the sunshine on her kitchen counter. 

The cat knew something she didn’t though his hair standing on end and hissing before jumping out of the open kitchen window much to her confusion. 

“Tono?” She asked moving over to the window to see where the cat went. 

“Hello, jagi.” He cooed coming up behind her wrapping his arms around her waist so that his hands rested against her belly as he breathed her scent in. “Did you miss me?”

She gasped dropped the vase to the floor as she spun around to face the man who still haunted her nightmares. “Namjoon.” She whimpered backing up until she was pressed back against the counter. “Don’t come any closer!” She yelped grabbing a knife and brandishing it in his direction. “Where’s Mark?” 

“Put the knife down, jagi.” He sighed approaching her slowly. “You’re already in enough trouble don’t you think?”

“Get away from me.” She whimpered keeping the knife pointed in his direction her eyes flashing wildly as she looked for an escape. “What did you do to Mark?”

“It’s time to go home, jagi.” He cooed growing increasingly annoyed by her asking after the other man.

“I’m not going back there.” She hissed inching her way towards the door.

“You don’t have much choice, jagiya.” He chuckled darting forward and grabbing her wrist, He pulled her closing putting pressure on her wrist to an almost painful amount until she released the knife with a clatter. He wrapped her in his arms again pulling her into his chest tightly though keeping her belly in mind, not wanting to hurt her or the baby. 

“Stop fighting me.” He hissed holding her still even as she struggled against him. “It isn’t good for the baby.”

“You son of a bitch.” She hissed continuing her struggles.

“That’s no way to talk to your husband, jagi, especially not after the trouble you’ve caused.”  He growled tamping down his annoyance at her continued defiance. Didn’t she know that there was no escape for her now? “Think of the baby, jagi.”

It was those words that ceased her struggles as she hung in his arms. She couldn’t risk hurting the baby even if it meant she had to go with Namjoon.

“That’s my good girl.” He cooed moving his hands to rest against her belly again. “It wasn’t very nice of you to hide our baby from me, but it will all better once we’re home.” He assured her 

She shuddered but didn’t fight anymore as the baby stirred uncomfortably responding to her distress. “Wait!” She yelped pulling against his hold again as he began to drag her out of the house. “Please wait!”

His gaze was annoyed as he looked back at her. “I have waited. Seven months is a long time, jagi.” He spat tugging her forward again.

“Please, I just need to grab something. Please, it’s for the baby.” He quirked a brow at her curiously as she looked up at him with desperate, frightened eyes. “Please.” She begged again eyes watering as she pulled against his hold.

“If you’re lying to me, jagi…” He warned but released her wrist and following her closely as she moved through the little house to the bedroom where a crib was situated by the window. The village had made that for them when she’d first started to show. Placed carefully over the edge of the crib was a blanket hand knitted with love for the baby.

She picked up the blanket folding it against her chest tightly almost like a shield. “I made it for the baby.” She breathed out with a shuddering under his harsh gaze.

He nodded lips set in a grim line before placing a firm hand against her back and leading her out of the house, shuffling her into the car that was waiting outside her home. They drove through the village to what she assumed was an airport waiting to take her back to her gilded cage, back to their game, and it was time to decide what to do, now that the chips were down. 

to be continued...

Italian translation: May not be entirely accurate. My Spanish is much better than my French (which is dismal), and my Italian is practically non-existent much to the shame of my godfather. 

good morning, beautiful lady.

good morning sir. How are the flowers today?

we have beautiful dahlias today. Your Italian is becoming very good.

thank you. 

how is the baby?

he kicks like a futbol player. I’m ready for him to be born. 

how long till the birth?

six weeks

so soon! My wife and I would love to have you for dinner after the birth. I can’t wait to meet the little one.

thank you. I would love to. goodbye sir. 

goodbye, beautiful lady.

[scuttling]

Interview

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 1,729 Tags: SFW, Pre-relationship, First meetings Summary: Aaron finally gets the greenlight to hire a new agent. Collection: Sophie Cortes timeline, 0-6 Months at the BAU (See Masterlist for reading order) A/N: Sophie and Reid are partners, because I love them! Link to AO3 or read below!

It takes two months for Hotch to convince Section Chief Strauss to open a requisition for a new member in the BAU. There was a lot of paperwork to be filled out, including detailed explanations as to why he felt the team needed another profiler. He thought it was obvious: for all they do work together as a cohesive unit, Morgan and Elle were technically partners, and when she left, Prentiss took her place. Reid doesn’t have a partner, which makes him feel like a third wheel, sometimes.

(He won’t admit to it, but Hotch notices things. It’s kind of his job.)

Needless to say, the position becomes available, but it takes another couple of months—and several interviews—for Hotch to find the right person to fill it.

Agent Cortes comes highly recommended by the Intelligence Section’s unit chief, someone he worked on a case with in his early days at the BAU; she is young, just 29, but she is more than qualified, and the referring agent is someone whose opinion he respects, so he’s hopeful.

Gideon sits in on the interview because he respects his opinion, too, although Hotch will make the final decision.

Cortes is Latina, petite and polite, with a firm handshake, a warm smile, and dark, striking eyes. Gideon looks at her with somewhat passive interest (something only Gideon can pull off) as they go over the highlights of her resume.

“You have bachelor's degrees in Psychology and Sociology, and master’s degrees in Behavioral Science and Criminology, all from the University of Chicago. How did you manage all of that, at your age?” Hotch asks, wondering if maybe she is gifted like Reid.

“A lot of hard work,” she replies, and it’s an answer he likes. “I graduated high school, enrolled in a dual major program and completed the bachelors’ at 22. Then I was hired onto the Chicago Police Department, and I worked there and got my Criminology degree at the same time. The Behavioral Science degree came after; I began it in person, and they let me finish online when I moved here to join the FBI.”

“What interested you about behavioral science?”

“I grew up in a city that was rich with diversity, but I still noticed that certain people were susceptible to falling into certain patterns, and became curious about why we as people do the things we do. I was already interested in criminal justice, so it seemed a natural path to take.” He nods, jots down a couple of notes before looking back up.

“Tell us about your time with the Chicago Police Department.”

“I went through training while finishing my Criminology degree, worked a beat for about six months before being assigned to the Intelligence Unit; my sergeant found value in the way I was able to get people talking, and a large part of my work was with criminal informants. I worked in Intelligence for three and a half years, and for the last two I was on the Tactical Response Team as well.”

“Tactical Response—that’s SWAT?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How did you end up in SWAT?” Gideon asks, speaking up for the first time; she looks over at him for the first time, as well. “I mean no offense, you’re clearly more than capable, you’re just… small.” She gives him a brief smile.

“Well, there was a hostage situation, the team leader determined that we could get a vantage point from an air duct... and I was the only one who fit.”

“You don’t seem resentful of that,” Hotch notices, a bit surprised. It’s not an origin sorry everyone would be proud of. Her eyes turn back to him.

“I find it’s more important what you do with your time somewhere than how you got there. I contributed to many successful responses over the course of two years that had nothing to do with my size.” It is a great answer, and he holds back a smile of his own, simply nods.

“So you left Chicago to join the bureau; did you have your sights set on any department in particular?”

“I was torn between Language Analysis and Intelligence and ended up somewhere in the middle.”

“Intelligence because of your background, why Language Analysis?” Gideon asks.

“I speak 6: English, Spanish, and Italian as my native languages, plus Russian, French, and German. I have an ear for them.”

“Impressive,” Gideon says, nodding, lips pressed together. Cortes smiles, modest.

“It’s helpful; more than 30% of the population of Chicago speaks a language other than English at home.” Hotch does crack a smile at that, because the statistic reminds him of Reid.

“How would you describe your current role with Intelligence?”

“The official title is Intelligence Liaison. I’m part of a team that travels domestically and internationally, to law enforcement or government agencies, to debrief them on threats we’ve identified, or potential threat activity, and to help them formulate offensive countermeasures.” There is a lot of experience there that would translate well to the BAU, that much is clear. If anything, she may be overqualified, but they would never turn down the help.

“What’s the most frustrating part of your job?” It’s a question he always throws in, because true frustrations—and how one handles them—can say a lot about a person.

“When they don’t listen and people die. I do my best to make sure it doesn’t happen often.” He looks up from the form to the woman, who, in that moment, shows the things she’s seen all over her face. They’re gone from one blink to the next, and he breaks eye contact to choose his next question. No follow up needed there.

“It sounds like you have experience interacting with law enforcement, which is important here at the BAU. We can’t work on a case unless we are invited by the agency with jurisdiction, so maintaining healthy relationships is vital. We have a communications liaison who deals directly with police departments, sheriff’s stations, FBI field offices, and the media, but knowing how to handle them is a big part of the job.” It’s not a question as much as a confirmation, and she nods.

“I’m confident in my ability to interact with other law enforcement in a direct but respectful way. It’s something I’ve done a lot of as Intelligence Liaison.” He has one final question, and though he’s already more than pleased with the interview, the answer will make or break his decision.

“Why the BAU?”

“Curiosity is what got me interested in behavioral science, but it’s empathy that makes me interested in the BAU. My current work helps to save lives, but it’s all very large scale, and it can be detached, cold. I can be detached and impartial when I need to be, but I can’t deny it would feel like a better use of my skill set to make a more tangible difference.” He agrees, can already tell that she would thrive in the environment of their unit, and it’s just the kind of answer he’s looking for; he takes a few more notes, glances over at Gideon for input.

“Anything else you’d like to ask?”

“I think we’ve covered it,” he says, and he stands abruptly, which makes Agent Cortes stand as well. Hotch follows suit. “Nice to meet you. He’ll be in touch,” Gideon adds, shaking her hand briefly and leaving the room. She is left looking a little lost, and Hotch steps around the desk.

“I apologize for him, he’s a little…”

“Capricious?” she offers with a smile, and he laughs lightly.

“That’s accurate, actually. Please don’t take it personally.”

“I won’t. I’ve heard a lot about him, so he kind of lives up to my expectations.” She tilts her head, looking curious. “You don’t, though. Unit Chief Roberts told me you would be stoic; I expected someone much more aloof, but you’re actually rather warm.” He is a bit surprised by her directness, even more so that she would find him... warm.

“I doubt that my colleagues would agree with your assessment,” he says, thinking of the number of less than kind words used to describe him in the past. She just smiles again.

“I guess you really do need me on your team, then.”

He finds it hard not to agree.

“There are a few more things we’ll need from you, such as a psychological evaluation, recent performance reviews, a physical. I’ll be in touch with Agent Roberts, and then you, if we determine you are the right fit. I’ll see you out,” he adds, gesturing to the door, and she follows. The team, who was not yet in the bullpen when she arrived, looks on, curious, as they head to the glass double doors.

“Thank you for the opportunity to interview. I hope to hear from you soon,” she says with another firm handshake, and he nods.

“We’ll be in touch. It’s a pleasure to have made your acquaintance.”

“Likewise, Agent Hotchner.” She gets onto the elevator, and he heads back to the bullpen, stops specifically at Reid’s desk, though everyone is nearby.

“Congratulations, Reid: you’ve officially got a partner.” Reid smiles, looking pleased.

“Who is she?”

“Special Agent Sophia Cortes. She currently works for Intelligence. Bachelors’ in Psychology and Sociology, Masters’ in Criminology and Behavioral Sciences. Fluent in six languages. Got her start at Chicago PD like you, Morgan—Intelligence there too. And SWAT.”

“SWAT?” Morgan echoes, impressed. “She’s gotta be 5’2” out of those heels.”

“She’s got glowing reviews from her superiors there, and from her unit chief: he called her resilient, determined, empathetic, a team player. She’s good at communicating with law enforcement, victims, even unsubs. The BAU is the right place for her. We’ll just be waiting on paperwork to make it official.” He crosses his arms, leans back against the filing cabinet. “I’d have introduced you, but she doesn’t know she’s being offered the job just yet.”

“She must have made quite an impression on you for you to decide on the spot,” Prentiss says, and he nods his head in agreement.

“I think she’ll fit in well. I saw a little bit of each of you in her, and she’s very…” He tries to think of one word to sum up the woman he just interviewed, and decides with a half-smile: “warm.”

[letstalkaboutsebbaby]

I Fell

Ransom x you

I had this on my head yesterday...so, it goes to the gorgeous @helenaeisenhower

The first time he told you you are different, you thought it was just a line; something people say when they want their partners to feel special. You like to know Ransom wants to please you and make you feel good with him, but now you also know exactly what he meant by that. After 3 months dating, plus 5 in a serious relationship, this is the first time you visit his family, and it's overwhelming - not in the best way - to see the way they talk to one another. Even though Ransom tries to shield you from the mess, you're not used to anything other than a loving family. The fact that his mother invited his ex, affirming she didn't know they weren't together anymore, cause he's been just so distant...you want to leave, but you also want to show him you're strong and can deal with it.

So, for the last half an hour this skinny perfect blonde woman keeps talking to his mother and looking at you no matter where you go or what you do, it's uncomfortable and the only thing reassuring you is your boyfriend's hand on the small of your back as he keeps an investment talk with his father. You watch him trying to end the talk a couple of times, only to have his father ask something else, as if the only reason for this talk is to keep him from having to interact with the rest of the family. Ransom brings your body closer and slides his hand up to caress the nape of your neck, your head resting against his chest when you see the irritation in his ex's eyes. Is he aware of it? Is he doing it on purpose? You don't know, but when she drinks her wine like a shot and walks away from the living room, you feel some relief.

Between cousins, uncle, parents and 'the help' as you strangely hear Ransom say sometimes, the only person interested in getting to know you is his grandpa - but you're way too intimidated to even look him in the eye. It's Harlan Thrombey! You've always wanted to be a writer, but ended up translating other writers' work to your first language - italian. It was how you and Ramson met, their publishing company was looking for someone to translate a series of books and after a reunion to discuss it, you got a job contract and a dinner invite. Is what you tell the old man when he manages to usher you away from the father/son discussion, bringing you to his library, where you both sit as you try not to look so stupidly amazed by all the books there.

"So it was a nice dinner, then?" Harlan asks with a welcoming smile that makes you open up.

"No, it was horrible. He was...such a pain in the ass! I'm sorry for the language but I don't know how else to say it. He was just an arrogant prick and I told him so." You still remember the way Ransom looked at you, as if you were crazy.

"What changed, then?"

"Him. I was given an office to use as I worked with your company and your grandson would leave a little origami flower at my desk everyday for a month, until I agreed to give him another chance."

"Am I right to assume he made a better impression on the second date?"

"He was a gentleman. A smart, attentive gentleman. We dated - like old fashion lunches and dinners - and got to know each other better for the following 3 months I was there, then he asked me to be his girlfriend."

"Three months dating? No funny business?" He asks surprised, but his eyes were not on you, so you turn your head to see what got his attention. "No funny business" you hear your man saying from the door, he was leaning on it, as if he has been there for a while. You wonder if he heard the conversation. 

"Would you both want something to drink?" "Yes, bring us champagne" He tells Ransom, who leaves to get the beverage. "I've seen my grandson having affairs, partners of some kind...but never a serious girlfriend, and no one like yourself, young lady." He smiles and starts to stand, so you assume the conversation is over "He stopped with the origami flowers?"

"No, never. I have a box full of them." "So, what? 9 months...about 275 flowers?" "A bit more, some days he gives me more than one."

After getting a book from his vast collection, he gives it to you. Opening the old thing, named 'I Fell' you see a lot of pages are missing, almost half of it, and recognize the paper as the same as your flowers. You look back at him, shocked. 

"I've never published this but I'll send you a copy so you won't need to undo the flowers to read it."

"Thank you"

"Thank you for what?" Ransom says, back in the room.

"I'm just praising your girlfriends' beauty and intelligence" Harlam compliments.

"Fair." He looks at you with a soft smile, giving you the flute of champagne. "The dinner will be served in 10 minutes."

"I'll let you enjoy the silence for a bit." The old man excuses himself from the library, giving Ransom a pat in the back before going out.

"Is everything okay?" he says sitting at the big chair his grandpa was using before

"Yes, I like him." you tell him, taking the hand he offers to sit on his lap.

"Good, I'm sorry for the others, though"

"It's okay..."

"I know it's not what you're used to"

"I'm sorry that it's what you are used to" and you really do. You know the arrogant prick you first met is the result of this environment.

"It's a reason to make it different" he gives you a peck and smile as you get another gulp of the golden drink.

"You look amazing"

"Not as stylish as your ex..."

"She's not my ex. We've never been serious"

"Well, she's beautiful"

"She is...but you are gorgeous and have a lot of other qualities that I appreciate. She got nothing on you" 

"Thank you."

"Want to leave?” the mix of mischief and despair in his eyes something you would never be able to ignore.

"The dinner will be served..." you try to reason.

"I don't care, I feel like I'm poisoning you by keeping you here. You're too good for this shit show. Let's get some take away and eat by the fireplace, what do you say?"

"Burgers?"

"Anything you want with double bacon"

"You're my knight in shining armour, let's go." 

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 5: You Make It Easy

Summary: Steve finally takes Katie out on a date.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Language! And a whole heap of fluffy fluff fluff.

A/N: Once again, a huge thank you to @angrybirdcr​ for her lovely little edit.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 4

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

The elation Steve had felt about actually getting a date with Katie soon evaporated the next morning when he realised he hadn’t the first CLUE about where to take her, what to do or what to wear. He wasn’t naïve, he knew dating had changed since his day but the fact he had no reference point to even start from, having never been on a date before, wasn’t helpful either.  So he sought some advice

“A nice shirt and jeans.” Peggy smiled at him, the old woman elated he had finally done it. “Nothing too flash, and pick a restaurant. It doesn’t have to be fancy, women are more impressed by a man who’s paying them attention instead of simply paying for the meal.”

“Okay, right.”

“You know her, Steve.” Peggy looked at him. “What type of food does she like?”

“Italian, Chinese, but we do that all the time.” He shrugged, before he stopped, suddenly remembering something she had said to Evans a couple of weeks back in exercise, “You know, come to think of it she has mentioned a new place in town. La Placa I think it’s called.” “See, there you go.”  Peggy patted him on his arm before she smiled at the look on the young man’s face “Just be yourself Steve, that’s who she wants. No one else.”

“Thanks Peg.”

“And make sure you kiss her goodnight…” She grinned, a twinkle in her eyes. “Us ladies do like a bit of passion every now and then you know.” He rolled his eyes at her cheekiness, running his hand through his hair which was in desperate need of a cut. He stayed with Peggy whilst he googled the restaurant number, made his reservation and then text Katie to tell her where he had booked.

Can’t wait xxx

He grinned to himself, and then pushed his phone away and turned back to find Peggy watching him, a sly grin on her face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy before.” she remarked, somewhat wistfully

.He smiled “Been a long time since I felt this good.”

“It suits you.” On his way home he swung into the barbers and stepped in. As he sat in the chair the man asked him what he wanted doing, and he was about to say trim when Katie’s voice stirred in his mind.

“Trying to imagine what you’d look like with shorter hair and a beard…” “Shorn back and sides please,” he said as the man asked him what he wanted, “and take it a little shorter on top.”

******

Katie woke suddenly on top of the comforter on her bed, fully clothed. She’d fallen asleep!  She sat up, thinking back to the last thing she remembered before her nap, piecing her train of thought together. Ah, yes, Steve had messaged her to tell her he’d booked a table somewhere which had prompted her to start looking for an outfit. She’d realised she had no idea what to wear so had been debating calling Pepper to ask for advice, but had decided it wasn’t a good idea because she didn’t want Tony to know she was dating yet, let alone who.

But there was someone she could call. Desperate times called for desperate measures, right?

Biting her lip she sighed and picked up her phone, scanning through to the person she was looking for and the cavalry arrived an hour and a half later in the shape of a red-haired deadly assassin.

“There has to be something in here that’s first date suitable…” Natasha mumbled, as she continued to search through the various items in Katie’s closet. Half Katie’s clothes adorned the floor of her walk-in-wardrobe and bedroom as they had discarded everything she’d tried so far. “It would help if I knew where you were going.” she sipped her beer thoughtfully.

“La Placa.” Katie told her after a pause, “Tapas place, but if you turn up I swear to God…”

“I got better things to do with my spare time.” “No you don’t. And I wouldn’t put anything past you.”

“If you don’t trust me why did you ask for my help?“ Natasha drawled, still rifling through the clothing racks. “Because Pepper is a four hour drive away…”

“Well that’s just rude.” Natasha mumbled and Katie grinned, shaking her head as Nat placed her beer down on the top of a set of drawers and moved to a rail “Ok, try this.”

She pulled out a knee length navy blue Balenciaga dress with a fitted top half, scalloped neck line and three-quarter length lace detailed sleeves. As Katie shrugged it on, Natasha hunted in the shoe rack, pulling out a pair of mid-height nude Kurt Geiger courts with a stiletto heel and matching bag.

“Not bad.” She mumbled as Katie stepped into the heels and gave her a twirl.

“Better than the grey one?” “Definitely.” Natasha nodded approvingly “I think we have a winner!”

Katie gave her a double Hi-Five and Nat picked up her beer as Katie stripped out of the dress and pulled on her T-shirt and shorts, before she glanced around the large bedroom, sighing at the mess.

“Better tidy this up in case things go well.” Nat smirked, before she pondered “Huh, actually, do you reckon Captain America puts out on the first date? Mind you, knowing Roger’s he’s probably a virgin…”

“I’m pretty sure people had casual sex back in the 40s too you know.” Katie rolled her eyes. “He was on the USO tours surrounded by dancing girls, there’s no way he didn’t do the old horizontal tango.”

“Yeah but…its Rogers.” Nat pressed giving a snort “Imagine if you are the one to pop his cherry.”

Katie groaned, shaking her head. “Shut up Widow.”

She smirked “Okay, so how long have we got?”

Katie glanced at her phone “An hour and twenty. And what do you mean we?” “You asked for my help, right?” Natasha shrugged, “Thought I could do your make-up and hair too…” Katie looked at her for a moment and smiled “Thanks.” She shrugged then drained her beer before turning Katie round and pushing her towards the en-suite “Go shower then we’ll start the transformation.”

An hour later Katie was ready. Her hair was curled in soft waves, and her makeup was done, a bit heavier than normal, but still subtle enough to avoid looking like it had been applied with a trowel.

“Perfect.” Nat gave her an appraising look. “Right, I trust you can get dressed without me?” “I think I’ll manage.” Katie said, standing up as she made her way out of the walk-in wardrobe and followed her into the hall where she picked up her jacket.

“Oh and if you need me to bail you, just give me an SOS call…” Nat made a phone sign with her finger and pinkie by her ear. “I think I’ll be ok.” Katie smiled, “but thank you, for all of this.”

“Have fun…” Nat grinned and then added with a smirk “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t”

“That doesn’t exactly leave a lot…” Katie quipped

“That’s my point.” Natasha intoned as she walked into the hall and pressed the button for the elevator.

“Nat, you won’t tell anyone will you?” Katie asked, “I mean, it isn’t that I don’t trust you, just…” Nat paused turning back to the brunette to find her chewing her lip with nerves. She shook her head “I won’t tell a soul. I know how much you two like each other, you’ve been dancing around it for months, so… just enjoy ok? Have a good time. You both deserve it.” “Thanks Nat” Katie smiled. The two girls shared a quick hug and then Nat left

***** Steve had to admit, he liked his new hair. It was much more like the style people sported now, but in a way it also reminded him of how Bucky had worn his back in the Howlies. He picked a light blue shirt, his dark navy jeans and then pondered before settling on a pair of brown boots that matched his jacket and belt. He was ready with plenty of time and found himself pacing as he thought about how the night could go. There was no doubt it was going to be way different to how he had imagined his first date to be. Back in his day it was movies, dinner and a dance. Now there were no dance halls, and they watched movies all the time. But, as Peggy had advised, for once he was going to “go with the flow” and just see where the night took them both.

Finally, after an agonising fifteen minutes during which he had pretty much paced non-stop and drained a good measure of scotch, even though it did nothing bar give him a comforting burn in his throat on the way down, he headed to the cab that was waiting and they set off to pick up his date.

Jesus Christ she looked amazing. Her hair was cascading in waves over her shoulders, the smoky brown eyeshadow she was wearing made the green in her eyes even more noticeable. And her dress…navy blue, knee length with a detailed neckline and sleeves that finished halfway down her forearms. The top half clung to her body where it flared out slightly from her hips and her heels accentuated her shapely calves to perfection. As Steve looked at her he found himself imagining various crude scenarios where said delectable dress ended up on the floor, but that wasn’t gentlemanly. Nor appropriate.

Katie felt her breath catch when she saw Steve. His light blue shirt was tight enough to accentuate his ridiculously well-built top half, and a brown belt with a gold buckle adorned his toned waist. And he’d had a haircut. Gone were his longer locks and side parting, and in its place was a short back and sides with slightly longer strands on the top, tousled into an exceptionally modern style. He looked incredible.

Steve broke the silence between the two, clearing his throat gently.

“You look beautiful.” He leaned down to give her a peck on the cheek.

“Thank you, you look pretty good yourself, you do something to your hair?” Katie teased.

“Thought it was time for a change.” he shrugged it off casually as his cheeks warmed. “Still getting used to it.” “It looks great.” she assured him.

He beat her to her jacket as she reached up to take it off the peg and held it out so she could shrug her arms into it. Once they were in the elevator, he reached out and took her hand and she laced her fingers into his. He glanced down at her, his eyes meeting hers and she flashed him a smile.

Yeah, he’d lucked out, big time.

******

The restaurant was busy but not packed. They were seated at the back in a little booth in the corner. Steve had never had tapas before, but Peggy had explained it to him before.

“So the idea is we pick, what, three or four dishes?” he asked, looking at Katie

“Yeah, they’re like small portions and you share.” Katie nodded. “Although you eat like a horse so we should probably order more.”

He grinned and looked back at his menu.

“You choose.” he placed the card back down eventually, beaten by the list of items. “I literally have no idea…”

“Alright.” Katie grinned. “But you have to try everything…”

“Deal.”

The waiter returned with their drinks and took their food orders. Katie ordered a large enough selection along with a side order of olives and different breads with dipping oils before flashing the waiter a smile and he scuttled off.

“I think this is normally the part where we ask each other questions,” Steve said as the waiter disappeared. “You know, get to know each other a bit more.”

“Yeah… think that ship already sailed though.”

“True,” Steve nodded bashfully, there wasn’t many things that they didn’t know about each other, although as he watched Katie was biting her lip, almost as if she wanted to say something, but at the same time didn’t.

“What is it?” he asked, reaching out for his drink.

“Something Nat said before…” Katie flushed, caught out. There was no way she was asking that question.

“Why does this worry me slightly?” He paused, beer raised halfway to his lips.

Katie looked at him and shook her head, the flush continuing to rise up her neck “Yeah, I’m not, it’s not first date conversation.”

He cocked his head to one side. “Now I’m extremely worried, and a little intrigued.”

“You really want to know?” Katie cocking her head to one side and when he nodded she shrugged. “Alright, you asked for this…” she straightened up in the seat as he did the same, bracing himself. “Are you a virgin?”

Steve groaned and screwed his eyes shut. “No, I’m not.” He sighed shaking his head before he looked back at her. "After I first got the serum there was suddenly all this attention on me and I didn’t really know any better…” “There was no one before?” she frowned slightly, almost as if she was surprised.

He shook his head again. “Girls weren’t exactly interested in me before hand, Bucky was the one who had the looks and the swag. He had a different girl every weekend. I guess when they finally did start looking at me that way I just, I dunno…” He stopped and took a breath. “God, this makes me sound like a right jerk. There weren’t that many”

Three to be exact. And none of them had been anything to write home about. He got the distinct impression they hadn’t particularly enjoyed themselves either, not past the fact they could boast about having bedded Captain America. Plus, he was infatuated by Peggy at that point as well and found he craved the tenderness that was supposed to be associated with the act, not merely the physical bliss. As corny as it sounded, he genuinely wanted someone to be with him intimately that wanted him, not Captain America.

As he watched, he noticed Katie was watching him intently and he swallowed a little as she simply shrugged. .

“We all have a past Steve.”

“I haven’t been with anyone since I came out of the ice.” He added softly, feeling the need to explain that he wasn’t that type of man.

“I haven’t since Grant.” she eyed him. “One night stands are overrated.”

“I wouldn’t know.” He shrugged, locking eyes with her. “That’s all I ever had.”

Katie studied him for a moment. She had no idea why, but to learn he hadn’t had a girl that way before he became some kind of war time celebrity, and knowing that the ones he had been with were probably chasing nothing but the kudos of being able to say they fucked Captain America, made her kind of sad. No wonder he was always so self-doubting.

She smiled and reached across the table, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Well, personally, I think all those girls that picked Bucky over you were dumbasses. I’ve seen the photos of you before all this happened…” she raised her free hand and held out her index finger, and gestured up and down his torso. “You were sweet”

He chuckled and took a drink of his beer. “You know I heard that a lot…you’re really sweet and all but…“

“Like I said…”she leaned back in her chair slightly, “Dumbasses” Steve was aware that her ankle was brushing against his slightly and he felt the warm flush in his cheek at her forwardness, but soon found it disappeared and was replaced instead with simply enjoying the fact she wanted to be so close to him.

As tactful as ever, Katie swiftly moved the conversation on and it took a natural turn to Tony’s renovation of the tower and then New York in general, how much Brooklyn in particular had changed since Steve had left it behind to go to war.

It was through this conversation Steve discovered that in all the time Katie had spent in New York she had never been to Coney Island.

“Maybe I could take you one day, down to the fair.” He suggested.

“I’d love that.” She smiled and his chest swelled even more.

Their food arrived and they continued to talk. And, considering they had started the date off thinking there wasn’t much more to find out about each other, both of them were surprised to see exactly how much trivial stuff there was to learn about the other. For instance, Steve knew that Katie enjoyed baseball but what he didn’t know was that whilst Tony was a Yankees fan, she actually supported the LA Dodgers, having grown up in Malibu. Suddenly her teasing about the fact they had moved made perfect sense. And in turn, Katie knew that the Dodgers relocating was a bug bear of his but, since he would rather go into the ice all over again than support the Yankees, he had started watching out for the Mets results, but apparently it just wasn’t the same and as such he hadn’t been to an actual game since he came out of the ice. Both of them found out the other preferred dogs to cats, cats making Katie sneeze and their ability to hiss and scratch you with no damned warning whatsoever made Steve not trust them as far as he could throw them. 

“I can just read the headlines now!” Katie chuckled after Steve had added that if he wanted to he could probably throw a cat quite far. “Captain America killed my Cat.” Steve let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he picked up his beer. “Don’t cats always land on their feet?” “I dunno, depends how hard you’re intending on throwing it.” “I’m not intending on throwing any cat anywhere.” Steve shook his head “As much as I don’t like them I couldn’t deliberately harm one.” “Tony did. Well not deliberately, and he didn’t so much harm it as kill it…” “Oh you gotta tell me this story!” Steve grinned, leaning forward, topping up Katie’s wine glass from the bottle that was in the ice bucket in the middle of the table.

Katie grinned, “When we were kids, the first place we lived in was down this huge, posh road  with like 3 other houses on and we had this really eccentric neighbour, Mrs Livesy her name was. She had like 18 cats or something ridiculous and one morning, Tony was reversing the car out of the garage and he flattened 2 of them.”

Steve nearly spat his beer back into his glass. “He ran them over?” “Yeah…” Katie said, and by now she was full on laughing “But the best bit is, she comes round asking Dad if he’s seen the cats, dad’s got no idea what’s gone on right as Tony’s moved the cats and bribed me to keep quiet with the biggest ice cream you could imagine, so dad is all like ‘I’ve got no idea Mrs Livesy I’ll be sure to keep my eyes open…” Katie took a deep breath, wiping at her eyes “So then Tony comes back, Dad mentions that Mrs Livesy was looking for 2 of her cats and Tony’s like ‘huh, well you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat’ and me, being the little shit I was at the age of 4 pipes up ‘no that was you this morning, remember?’”

Steve laughed, and watched as she carried on giggling. “He never forgave me for that, Dad made him go round and apologise. And he had to attend a memorial for Mr Whiskers and Bagpuss…”

Eventually after desert and a few more drinks it was time to leave, Katie tried to split the meal bill with Steve but one stern look stopped that in its tracks. This was a date, he was paying. Thankfully she didn’t argue too much. Steve then asked her if she wanted to go for a drink, she gleefully accepted so he took her hand, gently leading her across the road, holding the bar door open for her. They both sat at the bar, Katie turning her seat so she was directly facing him, the pair of them leaning closer to one another as they talked. And the conversation just continued to flow, as did the odd but subtle display of affection, moving their chairs closer together, her hand on his shoulder. Steve was surprised to find how easy the whole thing was. He had no nerves, no awkward moments. The chemistry fizzled and there wasn’t a single moment he was stuck for anything to say. It was for that reason he was disappointed when the bar tender called time and reluctantly stood up as Katie drained the final bit of gin from her glass.

As Steve held out her jacket, his hands gently brushed her shoulders as she shrugged it on, sending a tingle down her spine and the hitch in her breathing didn’t go unnoticed. She turned to face him, all green eyes and pink lips, blinking as her eyes locked onto his and before he could stop them, his hands connected at the base of her spine as she moved closer to him, not moving her gaze from his, hand resting on his chest.

“I’d really like to kiss you again…” Steve said, shyly.

“You know you don’t have to ask.” she replied. Smiling softly he leaned down and connected his lips with hers, the kiss growing slightly deeper until Steve remembered they were in the middle of a public bar. He pulled away gently, resting his forehead against hers briefly, blushing like an absolute moron as a small smile tugged on the corners of his mouth.

“You know, for someone who said they’d never taken a woman on a date before Rogers, you’ve done amazingly well.” she blinked up at him, grinning.

“That’s because you make it easy to be around you.” He shrugged, honestly. He took her hand, curled his fingers round hers and made their way out into the street to hail a cab.

All too soon they pulled up outside her apartment block and both of them found themselves wishing the night would never end. Steve told the driver to wait whilst he hopped out and walked her into the lobby, their hands still twined together. There was a part of him that wanted to follow her in, and a part of her that almost invited him to, but they both wanted to do this right, take their time.

“I think now is the part where I’m supposed to ask you if you had a good time.” Steve turned to face her as they stopped by the elevator door.

“I did.”

“And if you’d go out with me again?” “I already said I would, Coney Island remember?” she replied cheekily, leaning closer to him.

“I meant before that.”  He rolled his eyes.

“I’d love too.” She muttered, and then his lips were on hers again and they were kissing, exactly where they had left off in the bar, only this time they were alone. Steve’s hand snaked into her soft hair, angling her head slightly and she parted her lips, their tongues tangling easily as once more the fireworks erupted deep in Steve’s belly.

“Always leave ‘em wanting more Stevie…” Bucky said, nudging him on the arm, winking as they crossed the fairground towards the girls “That’s the trick…”

Steve couldn’t stop himself from smiling he pulled back. Their night was at an end, it was a perfect place to leave it.

“I really did had a great time tonight, thank you.” Katie whispered as he pressed his forehead to hers, giving her lips another quick peck before he stepped back a little and she reached into her bag for her key card, pressing it to the pad by the elevator.

“Me too.” He smiled as the elevator doors opened. She stepped inside, turning to face him and flashed him another grin.

“Night Stevie.”

“Night, Sweetheart.” He replied as the doors shut. With that, he turned round and grinning to himself he walked back to the cab. Date 1 down, and it had been a roaring success.

**** Chapter 6

**Original Posting**

[terrm9]

Cieli di Toscana

Words count: 1 600

Author’s note: I love Italy and Italian language, I miss hearing it, I miss eating gelato and the sea and I like Bocelli. That’s it, that’s all you need to know to understand this fluffy useless piece. Also, I tried to translate that one line the best I can, but my Italian is mediocre at best, so if someone from Italy sees it - please, feel free to correct my translation and don’t hate me if I got it absolutely wrong.

Takes place some weeks after the OHSY Finale.

It was raining heavily as Chiara stepped into Ethan’s car, making her sigh. 

“This is absolutely terrible weather for a road trip,” she rolled her eyes dramatically, earning an honest chuckle from Ethan.

They weren’t going on a road trip. They were invited to attend a conference in New York and as much as Ethan hated those, the vision of three whole days with Chiara, out of reach of the chaos that’s been erupting in Boston ever since Edenbrook’s closing and its subsequent grand re-opening, was enough for him to make a decision to go.

The excruciating rate of their lives in those past few months has also been reason why Ethan decided to drive for four hours to New York. Four hours on their way back and another four on their way back, eight full hours of the two of them being next to each other without anyone else’s presence, with nothing better to do than to simply be together. Hell, even if Chiara decided to just sleep the whole time, those eight hours of her peaceful sleep would be worth the time spent in a car.

“Okay, if you don’t want to start with my playlist,” Chiara waved indefinitely with her phone in the hand, “you better have something else than an audio book to listen to.”

To be absolutely honest, Ethan wouldn’t mind listening to her playlist if that would serve her best, however he gestured towards the dashboard on Chiara’s side of a car.

“There should be some old CD’s in there.”

Opening a storage space of the dashboard, Chiara raised her eyebrow at him and exclaimed: “Some old what? Have you ever heard of the possibility of connecting your phone to the radio?”

Ethan resisted his urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as he was in the middle of overtaking a truck. He knew what was coming and that he didn’t dispose of any power that could stop it.

“I remember the times when the only way to listen to something of your choice in a car was to use a CD. I said they were old.”

Chiara rolled her eyes, not even trying to hide the smirk that found its way onto her face. Of course he would remember that.

“Remind me again, which dinosaur was your favorite? You know, since you were lucky enough to live among them.”

“This joke is getting old.”

He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth, knowing that they would backfire terribly.

“Yes, and so are you,” Chiara replied without missing a beat, her triumphant grin so wide Ethan was sure her cheeks hurt.

She grabbed the first CD, disapprovingly muttering under her breath.

“Vivaldi, Sinatra, Schoenberg, another Sinatra, Bocelli? I know this one,” she turned to him with Italian tenor’s album in her hand.

Ethan glanced at her quickly and nodded, encouraging her to develop her statement.

“My mom loves Bocelli, like really loves, loves. I remember when this particular album came out, I was maybe eight or nine at the time and my mom would listen to it on repeat, all day for two solid weeks,” she chuckled to herself at the memory and decided to put the CD into the radio, letting herself get lost in the memories of her childhood. “My dad was going crazy, always shutting himself in his study to listen to Queen or David Bowie. I would usually follow him and when I asked him why he didn’t tell her to turn it off, he’d just smile, shrug and say something about the music making my mom happy.”

Chiara listened to the first track, the melody all too familiar despite not hearing it for at least fifteen years. It sounded like her parents and home and love. The unconditional love her father always held for her mother, the one that grossed her out when she was a kid and caused her to have unfulfillable expectations from boys when she was a teenager.

She always dreamt of meeting a man that would love her that way, the man that would listen to the music he hated and she loved just because it would make her happy.

Shaking her head slightly to get herself out of the dangerous waters of her mind, the waters of nostalgy, the waters of infinite sadness she felt when thinking about her dad and her brother and how they would never get to decide if Ethan deserved their precious Chia, their light, she cleared her throat and read the title written on the plastic cover of the CD.

“Cieli di Toscana. Do you know what that means?” she turned to Ethan, thankful that the traffic kept him from noticing how lost she’s been for the last few minutes.  

"Skies of Tuscany," Ethan replied, not tearing his gaze of the road.

Chiara smiled to herself, her mind taking her back to all those documentaries she's seen about that part of Italy.

"They must be bewitching. Skies of Tuscany, I mean," she leaned further into her seat, the soft melody of second song making it easier to just imagine being there, far away from struggles Boston had in store for her. "Have you ever been to Tuscany?"

Ethan nodded, his sharp gaze melting slightly as his focus has been divided between driving and reminiscing his time in Europe.

"Once. I've been attending a conference with Naveen in Florence. I hardly had any spare time for sightseeing and yet the city managed to render me speechless as I walked its narrow streets."

Despite his efforts to find a better word for the city, all he could think about, back then in Florence, was how romantic its streets were. He could still remember how his whole body both loved and hated the atmosphere and how, when he surly muttered that it was city made for couples, Naveen would laugh and say: „If you are clever enough not to repeat my mistakes, you will come back with a woman of your life one day and belong to those scandalous couples.“

Another memory flashed in his mind, too bright and fresh for his liking. The one where, laying on the thick fabric of hazmat suit that protected his chest, tears streaming down her cheeks slowly, Chiara admitted that she regretted not travelling more while she could.

„I’ll take you there, when this chaos settles down and we’re allowed to take some time off. I’ll take you to Tuscany then,“ he said softly, quietly, pretending to concentrate on the road, which must have looked absolutely ridiculous as the highway was currently deserted. He hoped Chiara didn’t notice how flushed the back of his neck suddenly became.

She didn’t.

Chiara was biting her cheek, staring back and forth at Ethan and the road. Her own cheeks were colored in a bright pink color, the sincerity of Ethan’s words making her weak.

It wasn’t only the fact that he remembered about her dream of visiting Italy. It wasn’t even about the way he told her, that he would take her. It was the fact that planning his future with her came so naturally to him at this point, he didn’t even need to think about it.

Lost in her thoughts once again, Chiara didn’t notice how Ethan’s eyes widened few seconds into fourth song when the recognition hit him.

It was the song he liked the most, the song that he would listen quite often to back in the days when this album kept him company on the roads.

It was the song that, just like the city of Florence, used to make that small, almost negligible part of him wish that he had someone to share it with.

With the rain falling heavily on the windshield, Chiara couldn’t hear Ethan’s almost unaudible singing. She could’ve easily miss it, if she didn’t notice his lips moving.

„Are you singing?“ she asked, absoltutely shocked. She caught him humming various melodies sometimes, but never in her whole life would she believe to see Ethan Ramsey sing.

‚Scusi se mi innamorai in un istante di lei per

l'aria serena che ha.‘

„Absolutely not,“ he shook his head, the wave of heat on his neck becoming almost unbearable. „I am reciting the lyrics, at best.“

How cute, Chiara thought.

However, she didn’t want to ruin the moment and so instead of teasing him mercilessly, she asked: „What does it say? The part that you absolutely weren‘t singing.“

„Excuse me if I, in an instant, fall in love with her for the air of serenity she has. Very freely translated.“

„How do you know the lyrics so well?“

„I like the song.“

„Sure, liking the song is one thing, but knowing – and singing – the lyrics is another. Especially when the lyrics is as soft as this one. Is the song special to you?“

She tried to ask it as casually as she could, as if she was simply curious, when really, there was a hint of jealousy blooming in her chest.

Was the song special to him? Did he use to recite it to his first girlfriend trying to impress her?

The car stopped at the red light, giving Ethan a chance to finally look at the woman next to him fully.

„It is now,“ he nodded, smiling softly as he caressed her cheek with his thumb.

The expecting and so vulnerable green eyes staring back at him made his heart flutter. At this point, it was useless to pretened that he wasn’t utterly and terribly sappy when it came to her. Taking a deep breath, just before the red light turned to green, he whispered.

„The name of the song is Chiara.“

[honney-boy]

Wonder (Part 1)

Rudy Pankow x Oc!Reader

gif by → @riobeth​

Wonder Series Masterlist | Wonder Playlist

Chapter summary:  Rudy and Nevaeh meet in person for the first time and things aren’t awkward. Yougurt cups, bananas and ice blended in a cup and maple syrup.

Full Summary and Story Concept

Warning(s): language, shenanigans, jet laggness, social media zombies, teenage girls

Words: 5k+

A/N:  This is my first attempt at a Rudy fic. My first series too! But if this flops, let's pretend it never happened, okay? :) But If you guys want to read more, please do let me know. Your love and support is the encouragement I need. I got the concept from tik tok haha. Fair warning, I am handwriting out chapters with a pen and paper before converting it digitally, so updates with be spread out. THERE WILL BE GRAMMAR MISTAKES! I'm human, and Tumblr is my test run for this series. Anywho, hope you enjoy :)

taglist

One | “Social Zombies”

            In Nevaeh's opinion, airports were the worst. It wasn't due to the 38,000 feet in the air flying ride or the nothingness in the sky you see your whole flight; it was the people, the airports themselves, and the limited space.

Airports were much worse than flying - especially the San Francisco International Airport. Also known as SFO Airport. The few times, literally very few times, Nevaeh has been to the airport, she had poor experiences. Now, SFO Airport is definitely smaller than LAX and not as busy - it's a nightmare. You would think with a much smaller airport, there would be fewer crowds, but no, it's like a family reunion every day but with strangers. If you bump into the wrong person, your day on the off chance will get ruined.

Along with the busy crowds, there are many places to eat. From pizza to Italian to pie, your choices are endless. That's until half or more restaurants are closed or have long lines. Nevaeh never ate airport food, so she couldn't give her opinion on it. She'll leave that to the professional reviews. She wasn't at SFO Airport to judge the food or traffic flow, not even the staff's attitude - except she already gave a flight attendant a glare. The flight attendant took a bathroom break before their next flight and griped at Nevaeh because she used the last paper towel so they couldn't dry their hands. Air drying is a thing, and it works well, she thought to herself while leaving the restroom. She was not going to let one grumpy flight attendant ruin her great mood. She was going to meet someone who she hopes is special today.

Over the past two months, Nevaeh and this person had gotten to know each other well, virtually, that is. They met online, and Nevaeh lived in San Francisco while they lived in Alaska. Countless messages, facetime calls, photos, and videos were exchanged, and a bond was formed. Who would have thought that two people could meet through a video sharing social media app and hit it off? Most people start with dating apps, meet and get to know different people, but Nevaeh met them all because a video of hers popped up on their for you page.

Nevaeh created and shared a variety of things on the app. From cooking to creating and her little hobby of disco skating. She wanted to keep her followers and supporters entertained and herself; she didn’t want to be stuck, making the same content, so she did many things. Nevaeh thought maybe one of her disco skating, videography, or cooking videos drew them in, but it was one of her mini vlogs. In the video, she showed how she would scout places before spending the day getting footage for a short montage film or scenes for a movie she is working on. Not long after the discovery, they - he sent her a message asking about a more in-depth explanation of her process, and it went up from there.

Now, after all this time of them chatting back and forth, they get to meet. Nevaeh gets to meet him. 

Standing by the arrival gate, her eyes bouncing around the room at different things just to keep her mind centered and not all over the place. She wanted to pick at her nails, or hold her hands to her chest but she couldn’t hold them in place for long; she opted for playing with the white beaded bracelet he bought and sent to her in a box full of other things. It was so sweet of him; just thinking about the box she received makes her smile and her heart swell. Just last week she received a box full of thoughtful gifts. Inside were some of her favorite snacks, a movie she loved, one of his hoodies - it was the hoodie he wore the first time they facetimed. The hoodie was one of his favorites, but he had the urge to send it to her, he just wanted her to have it. And finally was the white beaded bracelet with a single aqua blue bead on it - he had the matching one with all aqua beads and one single black bead. She was having an uncreative and pretty shitty day until that box arrived on the front door step of her shared apartment.

“I wanted to surprise you, so I messaged Birdie asking her for your favorite snacks, I added the hoodie and got the two of us distance bracelets. You know, because we are long distance.” He told her later that day when they talked on the phone.

“Until you come here, or I go there,” she replied. She hasn’t stopped wearing the hoodies since and she has had the bracelet on since the moment she got it.

Nevaeh watched different people walk past her; none of them were him yet. The dirty blond mess he sported for hair shouldn't be that hard to miss, but the longer she searched, the more she doubted her assumption. 

It was another couple of minutes that went by, and she didn't see him, so she pulled her phone out to see if he had sent something. Maybe he has to catch a different flight, and he forgot to tell her, or perhaps he didn't want to meet after all. Her fingers type out a message to send, but a figure stands in front of her before she hits the send button. Nevaeh could see the shadow of their body from her peripheral vision, but she did not look up, hoping they would go away - but they didn't. Sending her message, the woman was preparing to turn away until she heard the stranger's phone go off. It's just a coincidence that their phone went off a couple of seconds after I sent a message. She said to herself, then she looked up and there he was. Dirty blond hair - a little long all over, but instead of it being in his face like it always is, it was pushed back and tucked underneath a red cap. His eyes were more lovely in person. The pair ranged from a light blue to gray, depending on the day. Today they were light blue. He sported stubble across his chin and cheeks with a blond mustache above his top lip. He wore nothing flashy, just a simple red ACDC sweatshirt, cargo shorts, and a pair of vans. He looked tired, but that didn't throw off the good vibes and smile he had going on. She couldn't help but smile back. He's here in the flesh. Rudy.

"Hi," he said light-heartedly, breaking the silence.

"Hi," she echoed; the smile on her face grew some more. "Wow, you're really here in the flesh."

He chuckled, and the sound woke up the butterflies in her stomach. "Yeah, I am. And you...the pictures and videos don't do enough justice for the actual thing." His eyes scan over her, noticing the navy blue Hilfiger sweatshirt he sent to her. Nevaeh couldn't help the dust of blush that appeared on her cheek.

“Talk about me, what about you? Who knew those Snapchat filters were hiding such a god-like person.”

“Oh, stop, you’re making me blush,” he joked while bashful. No matter online or in person, Nevaeh was still able to get him flushed; it was something he didn’t want to admit, not while he was flying blind with this.

Nevaeh smiled and had a tiny giggle; the full laugh was muffled by the hand she brought up to her mouth in an attempt to hold the sound back. He could watch her smile for a while. Is that weird? “How was your flight? I hope it wasn’t too horrible.”

“It wasn’t too bad,” he admitted. “Definitely long, but nothing a pair of earbuds, music, and a couple of movies couldn’t fix.” The two quickly began walking toward the direction of baggage claim. More of Rudy just following whichever direction Nevaeh was going. She did know the airport better anyway.

“Which movies did you watch?” she asked.

“Since I had six hours to waste - Joker, 1917 and Pride & Prejudice.”

“Oh, I see you listened to my suggestions; not surprised you watched Joker again,” Rudy shrugged his shoulders with a hum. “I’m surprised you didn’t watch the Harry Potter movies.”

Rudy rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Actually, I already watched them a couple of days ago,” Nevaeh hummed as if she were to say, ‘of course’ “You can judge me all you want. I won’t pay you any mind. Just the same as I did with the guy that had the aisle seat in my row. I guess other guys find it weird that a guy decided to watch a period drama on a flight.”

“He was just jealous he didn’t think of it first. Mr. Darcy’s pinning for Miss. Bennett and the film’s  overarching theme is too good not to watch.”

“That it is, who would want to miss the warnings heeded against trusting one’s first impression or prejudices?”

“Or the character arcs that grow throughout the storyline. I pity that aisle sitting man.”

“I do too,” Rudy agreed. “He missed out on a classic and had to get up to let the other person and me out to take a tinkle.” He did it again. He made her laugh genuinely. The conversation between them flowed. The small worry Nevaeh had earlier about the two of them not being able to continue the light-hearted and enjoyable nature they had over text had diminished. He seemed just the same - goofy, charismatic, charming, and caring - as he was over the phone the past month and a half. She, too, was still kind, compassionate, and sarcastic as before. Yet both of them had their own doubts about the thing they were doing; they didn’t know what it was or where it was headed, but they were willing to find out.

           In the car, Nevaeh drove the route she knew from the airport to her shared apartment. Rudy sat in the passenger seat; his gaze focused out the window, watching the San Francisco scenery appear, disappear and morph as they passed by the window. The radio played while they sat in a comfortable silence - it impressed her how easily they fell into it. Wasn't it common for an uncomfortable silence? Two people who just met for the first time should struggle in an attempt to make a conversation, but not them.

To Rudy, the comfortable silence was almost expected. Granted, he did expect one of them to talk the other's ear off - he's glad neither of them was. The six-hour flight took its effect on the man, but he wasn't going to let his fatigue ruin the time they had together. He'll rest later. Spend time with her now, sleep later.

The car rolled to a stop, a red light shined on the traffic light hanging in front of them. Rudy's eyes watch a girl across the street riding down the sidewalk on a skateboard. Her stance relaxed, feet planted in a way that helped her ride easily; she was experienced, probably skated regularly. Watching her skate triggered a longing in Rudy for his board back at home. He rides on concrete and in the snow, but he was missing snowboarding the most. It was beginning to be summer, so the temperatures in Alaska were warmer. To warm for snow but warm enough for the evergreen to take over. Now he was in California, the state that was sunny all the time. The state that thrived in the summer and its soil hardly ever to never had the chilled touch of snow. His longing grew more for the chilly weather and white flakes.

The woman sitting next to him took the next couple of seconds between the light change to look at him. Catching the moment of his gaze out the window of her jeep. "I know you're probably tired from your flight. I had some ideas about the things we could do, but we don't have to do anything today." She spoke and after, glanced at the traffic light only to see it was still red.

Rudy tore his gaze from the distant image of the skater and met Nevaeh's. "I am, but if you want to do something, we can. I'm more than happy to hang out." He said.

Trying to reason, she said, "I know, but you just got off a six-hour flight." 

"Nevaeh, it's fine. I'm not that burned out. Time zones are an hour apart, and seven am isn't that bad." she begins to give him a skeptical look. She heard his words but feels as if he was only saying that to make her happy. He sat by her, leaned back, and relaxed. His head sat lazily against the headrest, and the smile he was giving her was light but tiresome. She switched her gaze from him to the traffic light, which turned green, and she didn't know when. Nevaeh eased her foot off the brake and to the gas pedal. "Seriously, we can do something."

“Fine,” She says after a moment. “I won’t wear you out too much more.” Flicking her left turn signal on after checking her mirror, she merges into the lane beside her. “There’s somewhere I wanna take you - well, maybe two places, but we’re going to the apartment first.”

“Alright, sounds good to me.” Nevaeh drove them to the apartment she shared with her long term friend. Rudy followed behind her as she led the way; they only spent a few minutes there. After a short tour, a bathroom break, and dropping off a couple of suitcases later, Rudy and Nevaeh left the place. They began a walk along the San Francisco hills to the mysterious place Nevaeh had in mind.

“This place is somewhere I walk to every other day. It’s Birdie’s and my favorite place.” It was a short six to eight-minute walk. Nevaeh reassured him before briefly going into a conversation about the impressive things you see in the city. Just like Nevaeh told him, they both come up upon a corner shop with a couple of large windows to see inside and out, a brown exterior with outside tables with green umbrellas and foldable outdoor chairs. The corner shop was known as the Nasik Cafe. For a small cafe, the place was doing well. There were a handful of people inside sitting, chatting, or ordering and quite a few sitting outside.

“This place is pretty health-oriented, and like Starbucks, it has things you could make at home for free, but their stuff is great,” Nevaeh explained to the man.

"So you spend way too much on yogurt cups, fruit drinks, toast, and other food you can make at home?" She nods her head like it was evident at what he said. Rudy shook his head. "Couldn't you just spend ten dollars on a yogurt cup?"

"Oh my goodness, they don't have yogurt cups, Rudy." She shook her head in disbelief.

"Okay, so ten dollars for a banana blended with ice in a cup - still sounds ridiculous to me."

"I can't with you," She tilted her head back, but she wasn't annoyed. She found his witticism amusing. At this rate, Nevaeh should prepare to always smile all the time around him. "You should find a table out here, and I can grab us something - wait, do you want to sit out here?"

Rudy nodded, then began to scan the area but only briefly seeing a couple of empty tables. "Yeah, it's nice out, let's enjoy it. Out here is great."

"Great," she says, pleased. "I'll grab something; I wanna surprise you. I'll be back." Nevaeh turns to walk inside. The smell of strawberries, oranges, and granola invaded her nose. It wasn't a new smell to her, but a new one for the day. She would always smell fruit and granola wherever she would walk into Basik. Some days it smelt like bananas and chocolate, or honey, peanut butter, and coconut. The smells varied, but the most prominent one was the tropical smell. To her left at a table was a couple enjoying smoothies. Both cops were a little under half full. A person sat at another table, invested in their laptop. To her right, more people sat. Art adorns the walls as realism paintings along with abstract images. There was a line at the counter; no more than four people stood waiting. She took the time to look up at the big and wide wood board hanging from the ceiling. When Nevaeh told Rudy she wanted to surprise him with something, she knew what she was getting for the both of them. The colorful and fruitful acai bowls.

Nevaeh and her roommate Birdie loved acai bowls. Birdie was the one to introduce her friend to the fantastic bowls she grew to love. Now it was her turn to turn another friend onto them.

The line moved along smoothly and grew smaller by the minutes. Once Nevaeh got closer, her lips stretched into a grin as her eyes caught sight of the barista.

"Hi, what can I get you? Could I interest you in our new fall to-Vae! Hey." the blonde barista's mood brightened significantly when she realized she was taking Nevaeh's order. She leaned across the counter and grabbed hold of Nevaeh's hand, and laced their fingers together. "What are you doing here? I thought you had to pick up your friend." She said, then making finger quotations. The barista was her roommate, Birdie. Birdie was a full-time college student and full-time barista to get by. She was more than happy to talk to her friend now that she wasn't as busy - Nevaeh was the only person in line for now.

"I was - I did pick up my friend. No air quotes, we're friends."

"For now."

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes at the blonde. "He's here with me, just outside." Birdie looked past Nevaeh and out the window in search of this guy. Nevaeh looked around for him, too; she didn't get to see where he chose to sit. "He's...the one with the red cap, right there." She pointed out once she spotted him. Birdie hummed and squinted her eyes to get a better look, which was difficult with the angle he sat at.

"He looks nice...from here," Birdie leaned back, so her fingers could let go of Nevaeh's and tap the terminal screen as she put her friend's usual order in. While Birdie did that, Nevaeh nodded in agreement but kept her gaze on him. "Lemme guess, the usual?"

"Kilauea; everything but-"

"No pollen and extra honey." Birdie finished with assuredness and not a drop of doubt in her answer. Her friend smiled, her eyes looking to Birdie with amazement.

"You know me too well."

"Well, you order the same thing almost every time."

"Touche," she couldn't argue with that. When it came to her acai bowl, she liked the Kilauea - made with mango juice, granola, berries, papaya, honey, and acai - the best. "And water, of course - make that two." She stepped back to look over the menu. Rudy wasn't familiar with the place, and he didn't know what they served, so Nevaeh wanted to get him something he hopefully liked. She decided to go with something not too fancy - directing her attention back to her barista friend. She went ahead and finished her order. "And...let me get the Islander acai bowl." That one was made with hemp mylk, granola, banana, berries, cocoa shavings, and honey.

Birdie rang up the rest of the order for Nevaeh. After catching a glimpse at the total, Nevaeh reached in the little card pocket of her wallet and grabbed her card. Unbeknownst to her, while she was getting her card, Birdie took her name tag and gave her friend her employee discount - she got it for half the price.

“I know you’re an independent woman and paying for the first date, the least I could do is give you a discount. Just don’t tell Daniel.” She winked, and Nevaeh gave her a thumbs up with one hand, and with the other, she made a zipping and locking motion over her mouth before throwing the key.

Outside, Rudy sat at the table he picked out for the two of them while waiting. While Nevaeh ran inside to get their order, he observed the small San Francisco scenery around him. California weather was sunshine with fluffy clouds. Just about everyone was either in shorts, a tank, and a cut-off shirt or any other summer clothing that provided them some comfort in the blazing sun. He dressed just right for the weather, though in Alaska, it was more on the chill side, causing him to wear a sweatshirt while he left. Now that he was basking in the California weather, he took off the warm sweatshirt and left it at Nevaeh’s apartment.

There were other people outside along with him. A group of girls sat a few feet away at a table in front of him, trying not to giggle as they attempted to make a video. At another table, there were two guys, perhaps brothers. They were eating something colorful from a bowl - it looked like yogurt to Rudy - and having a conversation with one another.

Rudy shook his head at the drastic difference between the two tables. Maybe it was just him, but it was amazing how much the world - more specifically America- was wrapped up in technology and social media. Sure the brothers at the one table had digital watches that told them the time and lit up, catching their attention with a vibrate when a text or notification went to their phone. But at least they could carry on a conversation without having their phone in their hands. On the other hand, those girls haven’t put their phones down longer than a few seconds. After those seconds, they tap away or show the other something they thought was worthy enough to gauge a reaction out of them.

Rudy wasn't one to judge. He didn't have much right to because while watching them and waiting for Nevaeh, he had the urge to pull out his phone. It was almost like a habit, but he chooses not to feed the temptation. He wanted to enjoy the day with Nevaeh; notice the burn on his skin from the sun, get to know her, have fun, pick up on little cues she has, and find out what he likes the most about her. And though it was kind of ironic that the two of them met through social media, he hopes Nevaeh is not one of those social zombies. Then this trip would be a waste of time and effort.

Ruby pulled his sunglasses down due to the sun starting to bother his eyes. Then he also wanted to cover his eyes and focus on something else while he waited. A minute later, Nevaeh walked out of the cafe's door backward with her back pushing the door open. In her hands, she had what she ordered; he wondered what she got. Rudy briskly stood up out of his seat to help her out.

"Hey, let me help you out," he walks around the table towards her, but she only nods him off.

"I got it, you sit."

"You have all the food and drinks in your hands; it's the least I can do." he stood off to the side, not interfering but reading despite what she said. He watches her struggle a bit and almost drops the stuff. Rudy immediately reached out, but Nevaeh had already saved herself and looked at him with a smile.

"I got it, Rudy. I was just pulling your leg." He picked up on the playfulness in her eyes, which made him pull his lips into a smile matching hers; her smile is definitely contagious.

“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands, backing away and then taking his seat. Nevaeh took her seat across from him, sat everything down before passing him the items she got him. “What’d you get us?”

“Well, I don’t know if you have had this before, but it’s my go-to thing to get here. It’s an acai bowl,” Nevaeh’s eyes caught his confused expression before he tried to cover it up with an understanding.  She laughed softly and explained further. “It’s like a smoothie bowl with other things in it.”

“Smoothie bowl…” he murmured more to himself, but she still heard it.

Shaking her head, she continued. “Acai palm is the main ingredient along with bananas and granola, but you can add other fruits or peanut butter and syrups. Or take things off.”

“Like maple syrup?” he asked, looking at the acai bowl she got him.

Her face begins to twist in disgust until she covers it with a shrug and looks down at her bowl, ready to dig in. “Uh, I guess if that’s what you want, then yeah.” She answered, and Rudy nodded his head and grabbed his spoon to take a taste. Before Nevaeh tasted her own, she watched Rudy, waiting for his reaction. He took a bite, letting the flavor invade his taste buds.

“Wow, this is good,” He says after swallowing. He glanced up, catching Nevaeh already looking at him. She quickly looked away and stirred her bowl.

“I’m glad you like it; it’s my second favorite one,” she peeked back up, and Rudy was still looking at her. Laughing softly to herself, then shaking her head, she takes a bite of her own, almost moaning at the taste. “I’m surprised you haven’t had one before.”

“ I have wanted to try one, but never really went with actually going out to get one.”

“Well, maybe now you will get them more often,” She says but stops herself before taking another bite. “Wait...you aren’t allergic to any fruit, are you? Or granola?”

He lifted a brow while getting another scoop. “Oh, only bananas,” He replies. Nevaeh watches him as he lifts the spoon to his mouth and takes another bite that includes bananas before she could reach across the table and stop him in time. “What?” he looked at her. Her eyes were wide with shock and fear, her mouth opening to say something but closed when nothing came out. “Is there something wrong?”

Nodding her head slowly, she sat down her spoon and reached for her phone in her pocket just in case. "You ate a banana, and you just told me you were allergic to them." Nevaeh wanted to yell at him for being so careless, but that would mean she was too for not asking before ordering something random for him. She pretended to remain calm but was internally panicking.

"I actually eat them all the time," he held back the smile easing its way into his features. "I eat them quite often. They're a great source of potassium and vitamin C."

"So you aren't allergic to bananas?" she noted, and Rudy shook his head. His mouth broke out into the smile he managed to hold back for a few seconds. Nevaeh relaxed a bit, her shoulders dropping as she was no longer tense. "You're an asshole, you know that, right?" Rudy gasped softly, a hand placed on his chest as he looked at her, offended at her comment.

"What, me, an asshole? That can't be right, I'm really nice," he said and made Nevaeh huffed. "What do you not believe me?"

The woman shrugged, the smile still on her face when she looked down at her food. "Well, you did play a mean joke just now; I thought I almost killed you." She reminded him and picked at her bowl.

"I wanted to see how caring you were, and you passed the test. Now you love me, don't you?"

"You wish," she said, taking a bite then pointing at him with her spoon. "We're going on a road trip together, let's see if I survive that, then I'll let you know if I like you enough to be your friend or jump out of a moving car because you're an annoying little shit."

Rudy raised his eyebrows, smirking at her now. "Me being an annoying little...alright. Let's make a deal," he starts; Nevaeh gestures for him to continue. "If you survive this road trip, meaning - if you have a great time - I get to take you to my home town in Alaska. Ah, ah. I'm not finished." he held his finger up to stop her from making a comment. She rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair, attempting to hide a simple, but you could see the amusement on her face. "If you don't have a great time, I'll do whatever you want."

"So, If I understand right, If you win, you get to take me to Alaska - assuming I haven't been there already,"

“Wait, you’ve been to Alaska?” Nevaeh held her finger up, echoing his movements moments before.

“If you win, you take me to Alaska, and if I win, you do whatever I want, correct?”

“Yeah, as long as it’s not too inappropriate or impossible,” He says, already finished with his acai bowl, which Nevaeh didn’t remember seeing him eat the rest. It didn’t matter when he ate it, she didn’t care, but that was quick. Looking down at her own, she wasn’t more than halfway done. “So, so we have a deal?”

Nevaeh looked up from her food, meeting his ocean-like eyes. The pair were becoming more familiar over the past few weeks from countless photos and videos the two have shared over Snapchat. Messages over text and facetime calls. They got to know each other digitally, and now they have to learn more in person. 

“We have a deal.” She says, and Rudy sticks his hand out, which she gladly took. They shook hands. While doing so, Rudy thought of a million possibilities to get the woman across from him to a great time and not just so he could take her to Alaska, his home. He found her intriguing, and he wants to take the time to get to know her better and maybe have a solid standing friendship at the end of it all. If the cosmos had a say, perhaps something more would blossom.

➣ End Note:

So, I honestly don’t know how the next few or future chapters will go but hopefully they turn out well. Here are the Revaeh interactions we all needed and plenty more to come so just you wait. ;)

AGAIN IF YOU WANT ME TO CONTINUE THE SERIES I WILL, JUST LET ME KNOW.

Wonder Taglist:

@Scooby6, @ifilwtmfc​, @rudypankowswife​, @themaddies-obx​

[If your username is bold and slashed out it means i can’t tag you. If you want to be added to the taglist add yourself here! If you no longer want to be on it let me know. :) ]

[nyotaliafan-pinkmermaid]

Vacation in the Eternal City

Fandom:Hetalia

Characters/Pairings: Switzerland x nyo!Greece, Genoa x nyo!Cyprus

Rating: K

Genres: Romance, Human AU

It was the last day before Antigone and Nausicaa would depart for their trip in Rome where they would stay for ten days.

They wouldn't exactly be alone. They would travelled along with Basch and Pancrazio their beloved boyfriends. And of course by plane.

Luckily they have booked their flight tickets and rooms a month earlier searching for the best and most economic offers they could find. They actually searched it very well until they found something good. They even sent messages to their soulmates so they would find a solution all together.

The plane would leave from the airport Macedonia of Thessaloniki at 8:00 so the two sisters should go to bed early if they didn't want to lose the flight.

Actually the last day before department the two sisters checked their luggages to check that nothing was missing and luckily everything was in order so there was no reason for them to worry if they forgot something.

They even ate something light that day and took lots of care of themselves before going to bed. After their bath they chose which clothes they would wear tomorrow and around 9 pm they said "Kalinyxta"(Good Night) to eachother. The two girls went to their bedrooms where they both fell sweetly in Morpheus' arms. Luckily for them, they set their alarms so they would wake up the right hour.

When it already went 7 at morning Antigone and Nausicaa after having breakfast they got prepared and after checking that everything was in order and they didn't forget anything, they took the bus to go to the airport.

When they arrived they noticed that Basch and Pancrazio were already there with their own luggage as well and stood outside the building. So they went near them and greeted them happily.

"Good morning agapi" Antigone greeted Basch smiling "Which is your ticket number"?

"Good morning to you as well Liebe" Basch responded to her "well my ticket number is 32A. How about you"?

The young woman told with such excitement: "My own ticket number is 32B. We will sit next to eachother.That's amazing"

Hearing those words a smile formed on the young man's face.

"Kalimera sweetheart" was Nausicaa's greeting to Pancrazio. "Which is exactly the number of your ticket"?

"Buongiorno beautiful" Pancrazio answered to her. "It has the number 33B on it. And yours"?

The other young woman said to him smiling: "Mine has the number 33A on it. We will sit next to eachother as well" 

Seeing her smile he smiled in response as well.

But they couldn't stay outside for too long. So they entered the building and after everything being checked they were ready to take the airplane which would fly them to Rome.And before  they departed for their trip, they should leave their suitcases on the airport's special room for luggages first.

At the moment they entered the airplane , they sat on their seats and fastened their belts very carefully.

Of course they had their tickets on their hands , so they were ready when they would be checked.

The passengers in the plane , including these four waited to hear the pilot's announcement and when he finished his speech the trip started.

Some minutes after the airplane took off, two lovely women who were actually flight attendants offer the passengers cookies and a glass of juice.

During the whole trip Antigone, Basch, Pancrazio and Nausicaa were chatting together, so they wouldn't get bored all that time they travelled.

Luckily the flight was successful and everything was in order. Even the passengers were all fine.

The airplane landed successfully and with safety on the Fiumicino airport of Rome. 

The first thing they did was to go and take their suitcases. When they did it they bought tickets and took the bus to go to the hotel where they would while being in the Eternal City.

Although the bus came a bit earlier than the excepted . They heard that sometimes it might be late, depending on how heavy the traffic was.

After their long lasting trip they arrived to the hotel that they would stay. The hotel was a huge five star building that had such a breathtaking architecture style.

The receptionist greeted them smiling and gave them their room keys and wished them to enjoy their stay.

Their rooms were on the second floor of the hotel. They had both a double bed, television, luxury bathroom and a little table along with some chairs.In other words everything they needed was there.

Also their balconies offered the visitors a beautiful view of the Colosseum. 

The next morning after having breakfast the two couples sat in the hotel's living room and started talking about where they could go and what to do. But no one could really decide.

"So we'll go and see the Palatine Hill first and after this ,it's the Capitoline Museum's turn" said Pancrazio to the other three. "And in the afternoon we'll drink something in one of the cafès near Piaza Navona.

In those words Nausicaa hugged him smiling and at the same time she told him : "You have such amazing ideas love".

Seeing her lovely smile, he also smiled sweetly back , looking her directly on the eyes.

Few minutes later they left the hotel making sure that they didn't forgot to take the keys of their rooms first.

After long walking they finally arrived to the Palatine Hill the place where the Roman Emperors lived.

"I always dreamed to see this place in real life" Antigone said enthusiastically and she wasn't able to hide her happiness during that time.

"In books it looks amazing , but now that we see it in front of us it is more beautiful" Nausicaa agreed with her sister. 

Seeing how much their girlfriends loved that place , Basch and Pancrazio felt such pleasure inside. 

The next sightseeing , Capitoline Museums didn't disappoint them either. Everything there looked so amazing and the tour guide was so kind and explained everything in a way that nobody could get bored. She was even ready to answer in any questions that the visitors had. 

The most amazing part of their visit in Capitoline Museums was Palazzo dei Conservatori which had many gorgeous Roman , Greek and Egyptian sculptures but for them the best ones were the busts and statues of Roman Emperors.

During noon they went to a restaurant to have lunch. The prices weren't too high or two low but the food and the service itself were both excellent. 

After finish the meal and paying, the returned to the hotel to get a rest. 

Before the two couples went inside the rooms they booked(they were actually two rooms, one for each couple), they agreed to go to Piazza Navona in the afternoon at 6:30.

That afternoon Piazza Navona was full of life. People could be seen everywhere: families,couples and even groups of friends. 

Meanwhile the Greek sisters and their boyfriends were admiring on how gorgeous it was.

But finding a place to sit and drink something was rather difficult. Many of them were full while other were too expensive for their tastes. 

Despite of this looking impossible they continued their search until they found a place that looked like a dream and with good prices.

It had such a lovely atmosphere and the romantic Italian music that was played there it was such a blessing for the folks' ears

While the four of them were talking , the time they had to pay and return to the hotel.

One of the waiters approached them and told them how much did those things they ordered costed.

That time Basch was almost to take some money from his wallet but when Pancrazio told him that he would do it for all them. 

And they didn't really need to argue for this. Basically they didn't want to get on such a pointless fight and give a bad impression to everyone there and especially to their beloved girlfriends.

As soon as they payed , they returned to the hotel to sleep , so they would have more energy for the next day. 

The time they arrived to the hotel, they went to their rooms and only after taking care of themselves and wore their pijamas finally slept.

In the first room Antigone loved how Basch hugged her while they were sleeping. She felt protected. 

In the second one Nausicaa felt so beautiful in Pancrazio's hug. She had a feeling of such tenderness.

The next day the visited the Holy See also known as Vatican City. They were impressed so much by its amazingness.

Although they had to wear clothes that covered almost their whole bodies since the clothing rules were really strict.

During all that time they were in Rome , they also visited the rest of its sightseeings like the Appian Why, Castel Sant'Angelo, Aurelian Walls and the Pantheon.

Each day they would stay in Rome there were different activities for them to do so they would never get bored.

Everytime it was too hot they were swimming in the hotel's pool. There were actually two. A big one for the adults and one smaller for the children.

Sometimes they would swim in the hotel's pool. There were actually two. A big one for the adults and one smaller for the children.

Actually there were more places for them to visit. And their plan was to see all of them. 

Their main vacation play was that they wouldn't leave the Eternal City without seeing all of its monuments which all had many years of History from the antiquity to the modern times.

Every day there was a different place for them to visit and learn about its history at the same time. 

They couldn't also forgot to go and see Fontana di Trevi where they dropped a coin on its water according to the tradition that wanted all those who dropped coins in the fountain would visit the Eternal City one more time.

They even bought souvenirs to give them as presents to their friends and themselves of course. They weren't so big or expensive but still they were symbolic.

The best and most romantic part of their vacation was with no doubt the Colosseum which they keeped as a surprise after seeing the rest of the monuments.

Rome's most famous sightseeing worldwide was so fascinating especially now that they saw it in real life. It was exactly like they imagined it.

Few moments later Basch pulled Antigone closer to him despite of being usually shy and gave her such a deep and beautiful kiss. She responded with such excitement while she kissed him back.

Seeing this Nausicaa brought Pancrazio closer to her and gave him a kiss so lovely yet so deep. He also responded her kissed back with such sweetness.

"Money don't worth more than your love" Basch said to Antigone.

"You are more precious to me than any other treasure". she responded to him.

"With you, my life got such a better meaning" Nausicaa told Pancrazio.

"Having you in my life, i don't feel alone anymore" he answered her.

Luckily that everything went according to their plans so there wasn't any reason for them to worry.

If it was on their hands they could stay there forever but they knew it very well that they should return to their homes very soon.

They didn't lose their hope though. Maybe they could visit the Eternal City in the future again.

Undoubtedly they had such a gorgeous time in Rome but the day when they had to return back home finally came.

So they took the plane for Thessaloniki and when they arrived Nausicaa and Antigone went to the home they had there and allowed Basch and Pancrazio to stay until they booked flights to go back to their homes in Zurich and Genoa. They even gave eachother a promise to keep their contacts as better as they could.

While they were looking to the photos they took during all that time they were in the Eternal City they agreed that it was the most fascinating place they have been in their whole lives.

In other words the two couples had such wonderful vacation in Rome that was full of many beautiful and lovely memories from it. 

The end

[cloveroctobers]

(A/n: this might be a little biased since I’m in love with this man & I’m basing the relationship parts of this on my mc/myself so hope y’all don’t mind 😬)

IG info/bio: @/lucas.koh | 93.1k followers | for business inquires please visit: kohptr.com

LUCAS KOH —

27 (28) years old

From Oxford, England

Father is Korean & a car salesman at a Nissan dealership, he’s a strict/serious man who has high morals but beyond that he can actually be a softie in rare moments (+ that’s who Lucas gets his height from 🤤)

Mother is actually Chinese but lived in Korea studying abroad and eventually became a successful chiropractor (s/o to doctor mondragon on YouTube who I watch to help me sleep some nights and wish I could see! Lol) with her own practice. She’s a firecracker, intelligent, and quick to say what’s on her mind and doesn’t care if you like what she’s got to say. Most patients like that about her, she’s honest and her family is used to her ways but in the same way it’s more loving than offensive? (Smol woman but will remind you when she’s cracking your body she’s got enough power in her)

Either he’s a only child or he comes from a family of all boys with two younger brothers (they’re all in their 20’s) or he has one younger brother and one younger sister idk you decide

I’m feeling like he’s a Sagittarius? Carefree in the terms of he wasn’t viewing finally getting with MC when she’s dating someone else as cheating. Mans was READY to risk it all for me okay and I was down for it but ofc I had to react realistically and NOT “cheat.” *sigh* one part of me was debating ‘are we really dating tho bobby? We’re on reality tv. We’re not gonna die without each other if we hang out in seperate rooms’ *cough* Nope. but I’m a woman about her loyalty

He’s definitely adventurous. I don’t see him as the type to want to stay home all the time even tho his work definitely keeps him busy/exhausted. He’s down for road trips 💯

Occupation? Physicotherapist. His mother inspired him to get into the field and watching sports + the way players got their injuries always intrigued him? So to provide the best plan to have someone heal was something he loved to do plus being hands on while teaching/helping was a passion for him + I feel like he would also use a massaging technique instead of the usual exercise part of it

Now as someone who suffered a ACL & Mensicus tear & is STILL dealing with this BS pain years later, I would be so thankful to have him around! I feel like he’d have a optimistic attitude towards his patients and that’s what people need not someone that’s insensitive (like my surgeon/PT’s I had)

He models from time to time, when he was first approached about it he was upfront about not wanting to do it. It was much different than getting your picture taken for the office. That’s usually quick, the whole modeling process felt longer but somehow he was talked into it by his brother who’s a photographer and his mother. “Do you think you’re ugly? ‘Cause I’m not and you’re a part of me, so therefore there’s no such thing. Just look at your cheekbones, your jawline! I gave you those. The only good thing your father gave you was height.” Which filled the house with snickers while Lucas’ father just rolled his eyes and continued reading his newspaper for breakfast

Has a motorcycle and some luxurious car—not a Tesla those are basic now 🤷🏽‍♀️

Loves his motorcycle so much he’s got a tat of it on his right bicep

He has two available parking spaces in his parking garage at his penthouse but keeps his bike away in a storage unit due to a neighbor scratching it after his girlfriend broke up with him? Saying she was off to date Lucas? But that wasn’t true at all. He barely knew the girl, they didn’t live on the same floor. People were crazy but if you push him his temper might come out

Owns a leather jacket that he paid a lot for

Believes in “treat yo self” if it means in quality when shopping and has no issue being a big spender but he knows how to manage it well (his father told him all about how his own father dealt with bankruptcy)

Since he’s often at the office the whole day, he’s usually a night owl. He loves night drives and night dining. That’s usually when he finds the best places to eat

There’s this one pho spot that he loves and it’s his go to spot when he wants something quick on the way home

Cannot sleep with his entire body covered in covers, either his arms/shoulders have to be out or his legs, which would be a issue for me/mc since I sleep with the covers over my entire body...yes even in hot weather with the AC cranked up😂

He also makes great kimchi fried rice & loves Italian food

Will wine and dine. I believe it. I envision it! He loves going out on dates with his significant other (If he’s single and not with me, I think he’d try out speed dating)

Will dress to impress, will buy you a new fit he wants to see you/us/mc in especially if it’s your anniversary

Loves taking bubble bath’s with infused oils or flower petals with significant other

He’s the type that takes long showers & it brings him a true sense of freedom. He’s never able to take a quick shower, he gets lost in his ideas of what to do next in this world & it’s limitless

If he’s in for the day, which usually doesn’t last long—he’s either in sweats or in a robe all day

Only drives his bike on the weekend or if he’s going out of town but if he’s going on a trip for a couple of days with MC & if she’s got a bit of anxiety like me? He’ll stick to his car to make them comfortable

I feel like he enjoys the winter season. Maybe if it’s a slushy rainy winter more than a blizzards/snowy season. He loves bundling up, much to people’s surprise. He’s more than just his good looks and body love island fans!!!

Doesn’t post much on his socials. If you need to see what he’s about then you should do so in person or already know who he is. The internet can’t tell you much, in his opinion

Keeps himself in good health, I mean duh what kind of PT would he be 😉 goes on night jogs with reflector clothes on & occasionally morning jogs & at home workouts

Probably will date someone younger than him. Not by much, I don’t think he can take immaturity well. (That maybe how he views it) The most is 4 years younger than him

Henrik is his best bud from the show. They hang out all the time, crash at each other’s places, and vacation together all the time. They will be each other’s future best men forsure

Doesn’t go out of his way to talk to the rest of the guys from the show but if he happens to browse his feed and sees something he wants to comment on then he’ll carry a conversation of course

Far as the girls? He talks to Hannah & Priya from time to time. He also follows Hope and they like each other’s posts but not much communication is there either?

Either has a mint or black phone case, probably a Samsung galaxy user

Likes pistachio frozen yogurt but he’s lactose & doesn’t want to believe it :(

Smokes cigars when he’s out with his boys

Has a tight knit group of friends, majority of them are from the medical field since they all went to uni together + most of them are also married so the pressure is so on

*He’s the oldest out of his sibs so according to his parents he’s expected to be married first yet his baby sis is engaged and she’s 23*

wants a family...eventually. Probably will happen in his early thirties? The max for children is 2 for him. He knows they can be a HANDFUL due to his own friends who have kids + he’s a godfather and he’s babysat before so he knows how it goes!

enjoys his freedom as stated which further proves he’s a sag lol

Enjoys going to saunas to cleanse his pores/ get rid of toxins. It’s the easiest way for him to do so even tho his brother clowns him for it

His love language is deff physical touch. He loves hugs and resting his chin on top of your head, forehead to forehead, his nose pressed in between the space of your neck and shoulder, gentle squeezes, sitting next to each other with your legs touching, cuddling, sleeping on top of you or you on him, etc

He loves kissing. It’s automatic for him and it can also easily rile him up

Has strong opinions & will show them but will feel like he’s being attacked if it brings on a confrontation/argument

Will forgive and forget

Plays strategy board games

Makes his own natural healing creams & gives samples to his patients depending on their needs

His fav colors are: blue, white, & grey

Will grow a bit of facial hair in the cooler months if it’ll make mc happy (I’m a sucker for facial hair but hate it on myself lmao) but if he dislikes the feeling on his face he will shave and finds he likes a shaven face better, the facial hair makes him look a bit older—which is okay but that’s just his preference

When he stops putting gel in his hair/styling his hair in a quiff hairstyle it shocks fans with mc commenting on one of his pics, “you’re welcome x”

Likes going to the Hard Rock Cafe on causal weekends

also likes getting freaky in public, down for whatever 🤪

He’s a traveler so if he leaves the UK, I’m seeing him land in Toronto, Canada first and falling in love with it. I feel he would vibe well with the culture there, might even consider getting a vacation home in that location

Celeb crushes? Anne Hathaway, Beyoncé, Lupita Nyong'o, Anna Diop, Imaan Hammam, Jodie Comer, Megan Fox, Shay Mitchell, & Cassie Ventura Fine

Oh Lucas. I feel like we have similar tastes? Somewhat. He probably listens to more rock than I do? Maybe 80s rock moreso? & He listens to: WALK THE MOON, Allen Stone (his fav) , Emily king, Gavin Turek, Melanie Fiona, THEY., DPR live, & Sik-k

Anthem = Young the Giant, “Something to believe in”

[mst3kproject]

The River of the Giant Alligator

A bunch of Italians pretending they’re not Italian in a movie about a guy who chose the wrong place to build a hotel… it’s like Avalanche by way of Devil Fish, with an alligator.  And racism.  You can’t have a 70’s Italian jungle movie without the racism, and this one layers it on real thick.  I think The River of the Giant Alligator has its MST3K bases covered.

Rich Asshole Joshua has opened Paradise House, a resort in the middle of the ‘virgin jungle’.  He proudly tells visitors that not only has he left the surrounding ecosystem undamaged, but he’s helping the local people by giving them jobs and improving their standard of living.  Naturally it’s not as simple as that.  Trouble begins when Sheena, the model they brought for their advertising photographs (just for a dash of Killer Fish), vanishes overnight.  Photographer Daniel and hotel manager Ally go to the locals looking for her, and are told that the River God has awakened and intends to drive the white people away by assuming the form of a giant crocodile and eating them all.  Considering how mind-bogglingly stupid the tourists in this movie are, that should take all of twenty minutes.

The locals, who call themselves the Kuma, have a name for their River God but it’s pronounced five different ways and I won’t guess how to spell it.  Because of the deep breathing sounds that presage its first appearance, I shall call the creature Darth Gator.

Let’s get the basics out of the way first.  The whole movie is dubbed and the voice actors are bad. The Darth Gator prop is completely immobile but they mostly keep it in the dark or in really tight shots so we don’t notice… it’s only the occasional ill-advised wide shot where it’s obviously fake enough to be funny.  There’s a spiky fence that exists mostly so that people can get impaled on it and a cloying little kid for no reason whatsoever.  The ‘wildlife’ is a stock footage smorgasbord that includes orangutans and hippos on the same river.  The worst effect in the film is a terrible miniature shot of the hotel on fire, which would have looked just fine if the people involved hadn’t forgotten that flames don’t scale.

So all that sucks, but is fairly harmless.  Now let’s talk about the racism.

We’ll start with the movie’s treatment of its two ‘love stories’, and I use the floating commas because neither of them quite qualifies. Daniel and Ally are the main ‘couple’ of the movie.  The camera lingers on each of them to show that he thinks she’s beautiful and she thinks he’s rugged, and they spend the whole movie hanging out on balconies and boats together and discussing whether the resort is good or bad for the local people… but they never get so much as a kiss.  This is kind of nice, actually, because there’s very little time to stop and make out when you’re being chased by a large carnivorous reptile.  It does, however, make for a hell of a contrast between them and the other ‘couple’ we see.

This is the model, Sheena, and her Kuma boyfriend. I am unclear on where this movie is set (the closest we get to a clue is Ally referring to the area as ‘the Orient’, which could honestly mean anything) but it’s perfectly clear that the reason they hired a black woman for their publicity photos is to make the place look ‘exotic’.  There’s a weird moment when Joshua attempts to flirt with Sheena by telling her, “it occurs to me that Eve herself may have been black”, which… yes, that is how human evolution worked, what about it?  All that aside, at the end of the day, Sheena runs off for a romantic evening with one of the tribesmen.  We never see her talk to this guy or have any clue what made her pick him over any of the others.  They just go fuck on a beach and then get eaten by an alligator.

So… we have blonde, blue-eyed white people having a perfectly chaste, wait-for-marriage love affair in which they actually get to know each other… and black people who run off with a stranger and screw out in the open like animals.  Holy shit.  I want to say I hope this wasn’t something the film-makers actively thought about, but it might be worse if they didn’t.  Naturally, this is also a version of the ‘people who have premarital sex must die’ trope from slasher movies, and the movie makes doubly sure we know this is Bad Behaviour by having Ally remark that the Kuma are forbidden from visiting ‘the Island of Love’ on the full moon.

The deaths of Sheena and Nameless Kuma Guy also begin a pattern that lasts almost the entire movie.  Even though we’re told, repeatedly, that Darth Gator wants to drive the white people out of his jungle, for the vast majority of the running time it’s the brown people who are getting chomped.  We’re told that twelve white missionaries came here years ago and Darth Gator ate all but one of them, who then became a crazy jungle man (not gonna lie, Father Jonathan was my favourite character and I wish we’d seen more of him).  We see Sheena, her boyfriend, and the boyfriend’s brother get eaten alive.  Furthermore, most of the white deaths in the movie are at the hands of the Kuma, who run in and kill the tourists with spears and fire arrows in the belief that they’re doing their god’s bidding, and much of this happens offscreen. Those hit by the arrows quickly fall into the water and vanish from sight.  The only time the camera lingers on a white person dying is Joshua, who I guess they think deserved it.  The impression one gets is that white death is a horror better implied than shown, while brown death is a spectacle.  Again… holy shit.

The River of the Giant Alligator can’t seem to decide what we’re supposed to think about the Kuma people.  Early in the film they’re portrayed as victims.  These foreigners have invaded their land and built this giant hotel, and claimed to be helping them by giving them ‘work’. Ally notes that they’ll be able to live longer, healthier lives, but Daniel wonders if it’s worth it when they’ve basically become Joshua’s slaves.  The movie leaves this question hanging there without exploring it any further. When Daniel and Ally come looking for information about the alligator attacks, the Kuma direct them to Father Jonathan, knowing they’re more likely to believe a white man, even one who’s obviously not quite all there.  The movie really wants to be about the exploitation of indigenous peoples, treated as decorations and curiosities by white tourists.

The problem is, it wants to eat that cake, too.  By the end of the story, the Kuma have devolved into stock savages.  They attack the hotel and kill everybody, and kidnap Ally so they can tie her to a horizontal King Kong contraption as a sacrifice. The ending just makes it all the more confusing, as they turn up to discover that their god has been blown to bloody chunks after biting into a van full of explosives, and they cheer and they just leave.  Is it really that easy to kill a god?  Won’t a dead god demand vengeance anyway?  Does this mean they actually like the white people after all, and were only angry because Darth Gator was eating them?

The ending also muddles the movie’s other point, about the nature of eco-tourism.  One of the selling points of Paradise House is that it’s in the middle of virgin jungle.  Joshua brags about how he’s left the surrounding ecosystem untouched – but then we cut straight to trees being cleared using dynamite, and later we see live piglets being thrown into the river to keep the crocodiles hanging around so people can gawk at them.  You can’t build a hotel in the middle of a place and then call it ‘virgin jungle’.  You’re the one who violated it!

The script is a little unclear on whether Darth Gator is a natural or supernatural threat.  Ally and Daniel insist that it’s no mere alligator (I don’t think this movie knows the difference between crocodiles and alligators any better than I do) and Father Jonathan seems to believe it’s the Devil Himself, but it certainly dies like a flesh-and-blood creature.  Whatever its nature, it’s clear enough that Darth Gator represents the jungle striking back at these intruders to drive them out.  The Kuma literally say as much.  So what are we to take from the fact that it dies at the end?  Have we won the right to destroy the forest by killing its guardian?  I don’t believe the people who make these movies think this stuff through.

I can tell that we’re supposed to hate the tourists, and we do, although not always for the reasons the movie wants us to. Minnow, the red-haired little girl who ‘only likes to play with boys’, tries so hard to be Adorable that you want to punt her across the room.  Her mother leaves her to wander around the hotel alone, because Mummy’s got a smarmy mustached boyfriend to bang (even this relationship gets more attention than Sheena and Unnamed Kuma Guy, by the way… we are told that Mummy and Mustache have met before, and are here mostly to see each other rather than the jungle).  Other notable annoyances include a lady who seems perfectly sane until she starts talking about the aliens, and a guy who loves to complain about Youth These Days and will seize any opportunity to do so.

I kinda wanna gripe about these obnoxious characters, but I don’t feel like I can.  You may recall that I spent a month stuck on a cruise ship earlier this year.  I can tell you definitively that these people do exist, and I hate them even more in real life.

Man, this could have been a fun monster movie.  I’ve seen movies about man-eating crocodiles (or alligators… does it honestly matter that much?) that I really enjoyed.  Primeval wasn’t even that bad – it was about how humans are more monstrous than anything nature can produce.  Lake Placid had that immortal bit where Betty White says if I had a dick, this is where I’d tell you to suck it.  The River of the Great Alligator is just boring bullshit and things that seem kinda racist on the surface but then you think about them a little longer and realize they’re incredibly racist.  I went into this one hoping to like it, but it absolutely pissed on the last shreds of my optimism... like a lot of other things in 2020.

[overheardatthecontinental]

“Is the Manager in?”

“The Manager is always in.” Charon responds as he always does, blinking at the sight of John Wick. When he had left the Continental, less than an hour ago, he seemed calm and resigned. Now, he appeared frazzled, although there were no apparent marks or injuries bruising the assassin. “He retired to his private chambers—”

John Wick nodded and set a handful of coins on the counter that he had taken from the trunk of his car. “I need a room—no accommodations, just standard mission prep.”

The mission prep rooms were used more for local assassins. They came equipped with top of the line technology, as well as space for maps and guides, weapons assembly and cleaning.

“I also need the Technician sent to the room immediately. I need a phone traced yesterday.”

“I’ll make sure to send him to your room once he’s finished with—”

John cuts off Charon. He’ll apologize later, he decides, but there isn’t fucking time. “I’m calling in Sante Fe. I need him now.”

Charon blinks, surprise evident on his face, but he nods. “Of course, Mister Wick.” He reaches back and grabs a lower key off a hook and hands it over, “Shall I direct the Manager to your room?”

“Please. And the Sommelier.” John grabs the key and departs, taking long strides down the hall.

John rarely used the rooms set for mission prep unless he was on a time sensitive case that didn't allow for trips back and forth over the river. He unlocked the room and stared at the expanse.

There was much to do but nothing that he could start until he got a trace on her phone. He doubted this new enemy would make things easy for him. They probably already had the signal blocked but he had to try. The only other hope was that Winston would know something. The Manager had an ear to the ground in every part of New York City.

John tosses the key to one of the tables and starts pacing.

Whoever wanted Lorenzo and the D’Antonio siblings killed would benefit from the Camorra collapsing. Of course, that included everyone the Camorra held something over, lesser Italian mobs, and the other eleven assholes who held seats at the High Table.

Bullshit politics, he thinks.

Somebody had followed him, watched him to analyze his weaknesses. And they had taken Helen over bullshit politics.

John grabs the chair that sits in front of one of the tables and throws it across the room. The wall cracks under the weight before the chair snaps into a handful of pieces.

“That was an antique, Jonathan.”

“I’ll pay for damages.” He says, not caring, as he turns. Winston stares at him, looking him up and down. John doesn’t give him a chance to comment on his, likely, pathetic posture. “I need a list of everyone who wants Lorenzo D’Antonio dead.”

Winston stares at him in disbelief, “Half of the Camorra want Lorenzo D’Antonio dead. His children want him dead. Most of New York, the entirety of the Sicilian Mafia, the Triad, the Bravta—“

John shakes his head, “I’m looking for an individual, aside from his children. Someone would benefit from the collapse of the Camorra.”

“Again, the list is nearly endless. I would indirectly benefit from collapse of the Camorra. But the point is moot, to act against Lorenzo is to act against the High Table itself.”

John exhales a breath. He was afraid that would be the case.

He opens his phone and looks at his messages again. From Helen’s work phone, a picture of her had been sent. She looked like she was sleeping but he knew she was sedated.

Her hands were bound in front of her and while she seemed largely okay, there were bruises forming on her arms. Her bare arms, exposed by her nightgown. And in that state of undress, they had her on a cement floor.

If Winston didn’t know, and the Technician couldn’t trace the phone, he would have no choice but to go after Lorenzo. He would face whatever backlash there was with the knowledge that Helen would be safe.

Unless, the unknown enemy didn’t keep up their end of the bargain…

Winston clears his throat, “You’ve never shown an interest in Underworld politics.”

“No.” John says, still staring at the screen. “Winston, I need you to dig as quietly as you can. Anybody who’s challenged the Camorra over the last… I don’t know, three years. Open challenges, rumors of trying to find someone to take a contract against Lorenzo.”

“Jonathan,” Winston steps forward, cautiously asking, “are you going to try to kill Lorenzo D’Antonio?”

If I have to.

“I’ve been asked to.”

Winston’s frown deepens “Conspiring to kill a member of the High Table is enough to get you stripped of services!”

John inclines his head, “I’m well aware of the rules, Winston. And I’d rather not have to kill Lorenzo but the matter is complicated.”

“In what way is it complicated?”

John hesitates. He had been stupid to think he could keep Helen safe from the Underworld. And while he had hoped to never reveal her existence to anyone, it was too late for that. He had, unwittingly, involved her.

Winston would disapprove, he already knew.

“I’m being blackmailed, and I’m not sure by who, but someone” I love  “very dear to me is being threatened if I don’t.”

His mentor swears. “You know better than to get involved with someone not of our world.”

“I do.” John agrees.

Again, Winston swears.

“I have no inclination to kill the D’Antonio’s, but if I can’t find out who has her, where she is… I will.”

“You can’t act against the High Table—”

John says nothing but raises a brow.

Winston knows him better than anyone, save Helen. The older assassin took John under his wing in John’s early days in the Underworld. He offered guidance and advice, impressed with John’s skill but devastated by his lack of ambition.

Looking back, his relationship with Winston was the most consistent in his life.

So Winston knows, better than most, just how reckless John Wick is willing to be.

Looking defeated, Winston shakes his head, “No woman is worth your life.”

John snorts, “She’s worth a hell of a lot more than my life.”

There’s a knock on the door and John answers it. The Technician, looking rather frazzled, comes in with a large backpack and two smaller briefcases.

“Charon said I was needed.”

John takes out his phone again and unlocks it. “I recently received a call from this contact. I need their phone traced remotely, as fast as you can. It’s likely they’re expecting a trace.”

The Technician takes the phone over to one of the table, “Do you know who the phone is registered to? It’ll be easier if I can track their SIM card. They likely dumped the phone itself to disable the GPS”

“Helen Kingston.”

“Know when she bought it?”

John shakes his head, “No, but it might have been charged to her work account.”

“Where does she work?”

John barely holds back a wince because if Winston was annoyed before, he was about to become really pissed off. “New York City Counseling Associates.”

He can practically hear the steam coming out of Winston’s ears.

“Jonathan, please tell me your girlfriend is not a therapist.”

“My girlfriend’s not a therapist.” Not a lie.

She wasn’t his girlfriend. Just his therapist.

The Technician asked as he plugged in a laptop, “You know her social?”

He probably shouldn’t, but he does. He recites the digits and looks up to see Winston staring at him incredulously.

“Jonathan, who is this woman to you?”

John looks back down, watching as the Technician opens the file attached with Helen’s social security number. Newspaper clippings mentioning her pop-up, along with her transcripts going from Kindergarten all the way through graduate school. Her bank statements, along with every credit card assigned to her.

“Jonathan!”

John doesn’t look up, “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to, Winston.”

“Please tell me that she’s not your—"

There’s another knock on the door and John, gratefully, steps away from the table and from Winston.

The Sommelier arrives with a room service table on wheels, covered with a white sheet that John knows from experience will have a variety of weapons.

He pushes the door further open and allows the woman entrance.

“Mister Wick.” She greets.

“Rita.”

“Charon was unsure of what you needed so I brought an assortment for you to try.”

“I appreciate that. Unfortunately, I’m currently unsure of what I’ll need. Versatility is a must.”

“Jonathan!” Winston says again, “Please excuse us, Rita, Karl, I need to speak to Mister Wick in the other room.”

Fuck.

John sighs, looking to the Technician, “If the phone rings from that, or any unknown number, get me immediately.”

“Of course, Mister Wick.”

John follows Winston to the back room.

It consists of a combined kitchenette unit with a coffee pot, microwave, and sink along with a twin-sized bed to nap or rest before missions.

John closes the door and crosses his arms.

He can practically hear Helen telling him to stop looking so defensive.

Winston stands by the counter and runs a hand through his greying hair. “Tell me that you’re not about to go to war with the High Table over your fucking therapist.”

John says nothing.

“Jonathan.”

“You told me not to tell you.”

Winston swears again, the anger and disdain dripping from his colorful language. John waits for him to get it out of his system. If he didn’t need Winston for this, he might have just walked away. He considers it in the moment but if the Tech can’t locate that phone, Winston might be his only shot at figuring out who had her.

But he could handle Winston, so long as he made it about the D’Antonio’s.

Finally, the old man shakes his head, “What the hell were you thinking?”

He isn’t sure what to say.

It’s been seven months and John’s note entirely sure what he was thinking, going into session that first day.

She had given him comfort that day in the café. The only comfort he could really remember ever receiving.

He knew therapy was pointless for someone like him, but he’d called her… just to hear her voice one more time.

But she had sucked him in, convinced him to come see her again and he had been done for.

What had he been thinking?

That Helen’s eyes reminded him of the forests in Belarus. That her smile was worth more than an eternity of sunny days. That she had railroaded him with kindness until he wasn’t sure who he was anymore.

That if someone like Helen could see the good in him… maybe he wasn’t all bad.

His intentions, of course, are marked by his selfishness.

It never should have gotten to this point.

He had been careful, making sure that he left no trace behind on the nights he snuck into her bedroom to watch her sleep. But he hadn’t been careful enough.

He was so focused on Helen, he stopped looking over his shoulder.

And now, she was paying the price.

Winston opens his mouth and John cuts him off before he can be berated, “I don’t have an answer for you, Winston. I fucked up.”

“Clearly.” Winston shakes his head, then loudly spits out, “Therapy. Do you lay on a couch and talk about your childhood?”

John rolls his eyes. This is what Helen would call mental health stigma.

“Why do you need therapy?” Winston asks, the disgust clear in his voice.

Again, he has no answer.

At least, no answer that Winston would accept.

There was a laundry list of reasons that John needed therapy. There was probably one, equally as long, as why Winston would benefit from therapy. But Winston wouldn’t see it that way.

Before he started to see Helen, John probably would have agreed with him.

“I’m not sure if this helps,” John says, “But I only started going because she was attractive.”

Physically, mentally, emotionally. John had been an eager moth to her flame.

“If she’s attractive, you ask her to dinner. You fuck her. You get her out of your system and get your head back into the game. You don’t complain to her about your issues! But now we have some civilian out there, with no knowledge of our world, being held hostage and—"

“She knows.”

The weight of those words rests on Winston and he stops his rant, suddenly going very still.

“What?”

“She knows. About all of this.”

“You told,” Winston repeated, “a fucking mandated reporter that you’re an assassin?”

John nods once.

Winston’s eyes seem to pop as he stares at John.

“I know I’ve already asked this, so forgive me the repetition, but what the fuck were you thinking?” Winston all but screams.

“She won’t talk.”

“Oh, are you sure about that?”

“Yes.” John says with a sense of finality, “Even with this…” he withholds a shudder, again remembering the picture of her bound and sedated on a cold, cement floor, “I trust her.”

“Clearly.” Winston snarls, “But there is a reason we don’t advertise our services to the world! Every single person who learns about the Underworld, in any respect, is supposed to be reported to your local Adjudication services.”

“You know I don’t give a fuck about S.O.P’s.” And before Winston can reply, John raises his voice slightly, “But you also know that I don’t trust easily. Helen’s not going to go running to the media or even the police. The moment she figures out what’s going on…” John shakes his head, wondering if she’s even awake yet, “she’ll know I’m coming for her.”

Winston continues to glare but John holds his gaze. He still looks furious but his posture softens, “Do you love her?”

“Yes.”

Winston lets out a sigh and shakes his head. “You always did take things to the extremes.” Winston mutters, “John Wick gets a hard-on and burns New York City to the ground. Unbelievable.”

In a moment, the air between them had changed. The tension disappeared, even if the disapproval remained.

“Lorenzo and Gianna arrive in the city tomorrow night. Santino is already here. I’ve been given three days to kill them all.” He’s never been good at asking for anything but he finds himself ready and willing to beg, “Winston, I need you to find out who has her. I have no desire to start a war with the High Table and the Camorra, but have no doubt, I will if I have to.”

“It may take time.”

“A luxury we don’t have. If we can’t find whoever is pulling the strings by the time they arrive tomorrow night, I will kill them.”

“I need more than a day, Jonathan. You have through the weekend.”

“I’m not leaving Helen that long.”

“At least, give me until Saturday night.” The Manager compromises, “I’ll do my best. I’ll begin right now, but right now, our only lead is someone who would benefit from the collapse of the Camorra. It isn’t much to go on.”

“Then let’s hope the Technician can pinpoint a location.”

…

She wakes up shaking before she even opens her eyes. Her bed is hard and icy and her covers are no longer tucked around her.

And then it comes rushing back. Waking up to a hand around her mouth and the glint of a needle. A momentary struggle and then nothingness.

Her mouth is dry, her limbs feel heavy.

Even opening her eyes is a struggle but Helen forces them open. All of the sudden, she is very awake.

She’s on her side, still in her nightgown, which gratefully reached her knees. She’s lying on a concrete floor. Iron bars reach from the cold floor up to the ceiling above her, caging her in a box. She uses her bound hands to push up to a sitting position to get a better look around.

The cell itself is empty, save a small stall in the corner that she really hopes contains a bathroom.

Outside of the cell is a spacious unfinished basement. There are mats on the opposite corner, covering the ground. Two punching bags hang from the rafters.

In front of her, two men sit playing cards on a rickety, foldaway table.

There’s a moment of blinding terror, her heart racing in her chest as she takes in her new surroundings. And then there is an eerie wave of calm.

She knows herself well enough to accept her weaknesses for what they are. Physically, she probably can’t put up too much of a fight. She doesn’t have the skill. It occurs to her that she may not even be able to throw a proper punch.

But she’s not useless, either.

She clears her throat, wincing as the action scratches at the dryness.

“Would one of you like to call whoever’s in charge?” She rasps out.

They exchange a look and the one on the left says, “I’m in charge.”

Helen surveys him. If she had to guess, she’d put him in his late twenties. His pants are baggy with tears she can make out from where she sat and he was wearing a sweatshirt.

This wasn’t a random kidnapping, she knew. This was planned. Well thought out. Someone who knew her schedule and learning routine took time. Then, they had sedated her. It was too organized, too clean.

This was about John.

And that kid sitting, playing cards probably had no idea the kind of monster he had just set loose by taking her.

She hums, “Maybe in the room, but not of the operation.” Helen pushes herself back so she can lean against the wall, “Call your boss, honey.”

“Listen, little bitch,” he pushes back from the table and steps over to the iron bars, taunting, “I own you right now.” He tugs a gun loose from the back of his pants, “I could kill you just like that! So how about you show me a little respect.”

“No, you listen, kid.” She forces herself up to her knees and then wobbles to her feet, “You point that thing at me, and we’re going to have a problem. If your boss,” she emphasizes, “wanted me dead, I would have been dead in my bed. No, he took me because he needs me. Alive and unharmed.

“Now, I’ll take pity on you because you’re young and you probably have no idea who you are messing with right now.” And she was certain that neither of her current jailors would stand a chance against John Wick, “So how about you call your boss, and let the grown-ups talk? Hmm?”

She’s dealt with enough pissed off clients to know when to stand her ground and when to back down. And she would be damned if she backed down from a guy who would probably trip running from the cops because he wouldn’t tie his damned laces.

And then he turns away, glaring and tucking his gun back into his pants. He grabs a phone off the table.

Helen closes her eyes and breathes.

Her head is pounding but that truly is the least of her worries.

“She’s awake.” The kid tells whoever’s on the other line. “She wants to speak to the boss.”

The kid hums along to whatever is being said on the other end. He is clearly cut off at the end, pulling the phone from his ear and looking mildly disappointed.

Disillusion amongst the ranks? She wonders. She can work with that.

He shoots her a glare, “He’s coming.”

Helen nods her thanks and rubs at her eyes. Even now that she is awake, her lids still feel heavy. Her body, lethargic. Sore. Cold. She backs up to the wall and slides down to a sitting position.

Her body feels overly tense and she wonders if that’s a side effect of the drug, the cold, or the trauma. Or a mix of all three.

The kid is still standing, which leads her to believe that her actual captor is somewhere in the building. At the very least, nearby.

Sure enough, she hears footsteps coming down the stairs.

He’s not too much older than the boys guarding her but she’d place him in his late thirties. Dark hair, dark eyes. A pleasant smile as he regards her with interest. He’s well-dressed and walks with the assurance that comes from having everything in life handed to you.

“Hello, Miss Kingston.”

“How long have I been here?” She asks and that seems to set him aback.

The man tilts his head. “Do you know who I am?”

“Can’t say I’m interested.” She retorts, “How long have I been here?”

His lips quirk in a daring smile, “You’re not the least bit curious about who I am or why you’re here?”

“I can guess the why. John Wick pissed you off. Or you need him for something no one else could possibly handle. Vengeance, blackmail, I don’t really give a shit. And knowing your name, who you are… it won’t matter because unless you let me go right now, John is going to hunt you down and disembowel you. So let me ask you again, how long have I been here?”

She can vaguely see his two minions staring at her wide-eyed in the background. It occurs to her that maybe she shouldn’t be talking to this stranger like this but what is he going to do? To shoot her, to hurt her would be suicide by angry assassin.

But their leader just smirks, “And all this time, I thought you were just a pretty face. You’re a delight. To answer your question, cara mia, it’s nearly noon.”

She went to bed at ten.

And John, bless his heart, was never as subtle as he thought he was.

He would have been there sometime after midnight for his nightly stalking habits that she pretended she didn’t know about.

“He knows I’m missing.”

“Yes.” He says, “I spoke to him last night. He was quite distraught.”

Helen shakes her head in disbelief. His calmness was unsettling because either he didn’t know what John was capable of or he somehow thought himself above it. She guessed the latter, “I don’t know what you need John for. Between us, I don’t really care. But you need to think long and hard about if this is really your best idea.”

Her captor only smiles, “While your concern is touching, I’m not worried.”

“Then you’re a fool. He won’t let you walk away after this.”

“He won’t have a choice. By the time Wick completes what he needs to, he’ll find himself too entrapped by politics to be able to hunt me down. His precious therapist will be freed, and he will be consumed by the punishment for his actions.

“I suppose,” he inclines his head, “I have you to thank for all this. You entrapped John Wick. I entrapped you. And now the world will be at my fingertips.”

Helen knew she didn’t fully understand Underworld politics but she was certain that this man was vastly overplaying his hand.

“The Camorra will fall. Italia will be mine. And all because John Wick made the mistake of falling in love.”

She swallows but tries not to let it show.

Because she knew. Of course she knew.

She knew John better than anybody. Half the time, she knew what he was thinking before he did.

Helen wasn’t immune to the longing stares he thought he hid so well. She wasn’t blind to the midnight visits John paid her, at first only once or twice a week, until it steadily increased to a nightly guardianship.

And she wasn’t stupid enough to think that no one was ever going to figure it out. A part of her even expected this. At the very least, she wasn’t surprised to find herself kidnapped and held hostage at the whim of one of John’s enemies.

“A therapist.” The man shakes his head, amused, “Tell me, whatever does John Wick cry to you about?”

John hadn’t been kidding about the misplaced misogyny in his world, as well as the unfettered arrogance. This was ridiculous.

She had dealt with ridiculous men before and, while this one clearly believed himself to be special, she wasn’t above doing what she did best.

Helen exhaled, assessing the best she could in her weakened state.

Now was not the time for mistakes.

She took in the suit.

The manner in which he presented himself.

His demeanor.

His attitude.

His actions.

An obvious neophyte in way over his head.

In a position of power that obviously didn’t belong to him, convinced he was far better than he was.

Certainty was never possible, but it was worth the gamble. “Does your mother know that it was you that killed your father?” She asks.

Immediately, the cocky smile vanishes from her captor. “What?” He growls out.

“She struggled to conceive, didn’t she? You were her little miracle baby. Thank fuck you were a son so she didn’t have to go through that again. Daddy needed his heir, didn’t he?”

Bullseye.

“And your father was appeased, for a while. But then you grew older. Not so good at the physical stuff, were you? It must have been confusing, never being able to meet your father’s expectations while your mother insisted that you were perfect in every way.”

“You must think you’re very clever, Miss Kingston--”

“But not as clever as you.” She quips, “Your father tried to teach you to run the business, but years of your mother’s coddling made you soft.”

“Shut up.”

“For years, you trained. You did what he asked. It wasn’t enough, it was never enough. You just couldn’t take it anymore so you killed him. Well,” Helen pauses, “You had him killed. Wouldn’t want to mess up that manicure, would we? Which leads me again, to my first question. What I can’t figure out. Does your mother know that it was you who killed your father?”

She’s met with utter silence. His two minions are staring at her in stunned disbelief. Her captor, however, is fuming. She can feel the rage, the humiliation pouring off him in waves.

Helen inclines her head, “Unless, oh, honey,” she makes a sympathetic face, “Did mommy kill daddy for you?”

“Nick!” A long string of Italian follows the name and the minion who hadn’t threatened her with a gun nods, frantically, before running across the room.

She looks back to the man in charge, “I prefer to counsel in my office, but I can make an exception if you want to start talking through your mommy issues.  I won’t even charge you, considering you’ll be dead in a week anyway.”

Nick runs back over with capped needle and Helen resists the urge to roll her eyes. “Here Mister DeLuca.”

Well, now she had a name.

“Seriously?” She gestures around at the cell, “I can’t even walk six feet in any direction, and you’re going to sedate me? If you didn’t want to talk about your mommy issues, you could just say so. Sometimes, we need to build up to the bigger things.”

Her door was unlocked, and it kills her but she doesn’t move or try for escape. She’s still too tired from the last cocktail of sedatives they loaded her with.

The kid, Nick, comes in and Helen idly offers her arm.

Do what you want, she thinks, it won’t stop the storm that’s coming.

“You’re right about one thing.” Helen says, “I am John Wick’s therapist. Which means I know John better than anyone. I know what he’s willing to compromise on and what he’ll hunt you down until the ends of the Earth over.”

Nick grabs her arm, holding it tight as if he’s expecting her to start to struggle as he uncaps the needle with his teeth.

“He’s going to tear you apart.”

The needle pierces her skin.

“So I’ll ask you again. Are you really sure this is your best idea?”

It doesn’t take long for the sedative to run its course but she holds DeLuca’s gaze until the world grows fuzzy.

...................

Taglist: @greenmanalishi​, @cynic-spirit

[let-me-write-shit]

Somebody To You: 26

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Word Count: 3,031

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CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Last night was draining and Zoey hardly got any sleep. There were too many thoughts running through her head. Being back home gave her mixed emotions. There were so many great memories filled with lots of great people, but there was so much loss, as well. She felt like she was on a death march, visiting a terminally ill man, a son who is about to lose his father, and bereaved parents. The knowledge of the losses made her normally bright and cheery little suburb feel dark and gray. How was she supposed to make light in these situations? She stressed, trying to figure out how she was supposed to act when she met Mr. and Mrs. Lewis for lunch.

“Just relax, it’s going to be fine,” Michael tried soothing her in the car on the way to their house. “You don’t have to impress them. They’ve known you for years. Just act normal.”

Zoey took a deep breath, nodding. He was right. This isn’t her first time spending time with them. But it was her first visit since she’s moved to LA on their dime and she felt pressured to explain or justify all that has been going on in her life since moving there. How do you thank the people responsible for changing your life in so many different ways?

The first thing Zoey noticed when they pulled up to the house was the different flower beds by the front door. They had done some rearranging. Honestly, it was refreshing to see at least a minor change in scenery. Still, her nerves began to grow as they made their way to the front door. She began to contemplate whether she should knock or just go right in, having always done that in the past. But she figured its been too long since she’s been here to just walk in, so she knocked, bouncing anxiously on her toes. Within seconds the door flew open and was instantly being enveloped by Mrs. Lewis’s curly blonde hair. Zoey’s worry eased at the sound of the woman’s delighted laughter, pulling away to take a good look at each other. 

“Oh, Zoey, you look beautiful with your hair down,” Mrs. Lewis cooed, smiling adoringly at her, “Come in, Mr. Lewis should be back any minute with the pizza. Hello, Michael, how are you?”

“I’m doing well, thank you,” Michael grinned as they followed Mrs. Lewis inside, closing the door behind them and making their way to the eat-in kitchen. 

Mrs. Lewis looked different than the last time Zoey saw her. She was more put-together, wearing a little bit more makeup and in business-casual clothes, instead of the robes and oversized sweaters that she had gotten used to wearing after the death of her daughter. Her eyes weren’t sunken and dark any longer, instead, they were bright blue and she had a glow about her that radiated through her smile; something she hadn’t seen Mrs. Lewis do in over a year. She seemed to be doing better, and Zoey couldn’t have been happier about that.

“I was so happy to get that phone call from you yesterday, Michael. I didn’t know you were going to be in town,” Mrs. Lewis turned to Zoey, pulling out cups and plates in preparation for her husband’s arrival with their lunch.

“I didn’t either,” Zoey admitted, “It was a last-minute plan to come after hearing about Paul.”

Mrs. Lewis nodded seriously, “Yes, I’m so sorry to hear about your dad, Michael. How are you feeling?”

Mrs. Lewis listened intently as Michael confessed himself to her; something Zoey was surprised by. Michael was never one to delve into his feelings too much, but it seemed that he had so many thoughts pent up, understandably, that when provided with an outlet to express his feelings without the worry of judgment or hurting anyone else’s feelings (like he would have had he expressed these thoughts to his parents, perhaps) he was able to really dig deep to the root of his worry and have a weight lifted off his shoulders from the burden it carried.

Michael wasn’t an emotional person. He could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen him cry. So when she saw a tear trickle down his cheek, Zoey couldn’t help but get emotional and cry along with him. She felt for him. What do you say to a person who is about to lose their father?

She felt guilty for not being there for him sooner. For letting their ties loosen so much that he felt he couldn’t confide in her anymore. It was no wonder he didn’t absolutely hate her for it. He deserved much better than what she’s offered him in the past five months. 

When Michael had reached the end of his rant, Zoey felt the urge to hug him, pulling him into the tightest, warmest hug she could muster as she pushed her tears aside. He relaxed into her embrace and felt the shuddering of his body begin to calm until his breathing evened out. She’d never seen him in so much pain before and she couldn’t blame him for breaking down in front of Mrs. Lewis. But if anyone would understand what he’s going through, it was her. 

Mrs. Lewis rounded the table and wrapped her arms around Michael, motherly shushing him and gently rocking him back and forth making a grown twenty-eight-year-old man look like a child in her arms. Michael seemed to calm from his uneasiness and cleared his throat, wiping his eyes as Mrs. Lewis sat back down in his seat. He was embarrassed, but neither of them criticized him for it. How could they? He had every right to feel what he was feeling. 

Not even a minute later, Mr. Lewis came stumbling through the front door, making his way back and beaming when he saw the two of them sitting at the table.

“You made it!” he exclaimed, plopping the boxes of pizza in the center of the table and reaching out for a quick hug while his wife began serving slices. He noticed Michael’s puffy red eyes and looked as though he was about to say something, but decided not to at the last minute, resorting to, “Dig in, I want to hear all about what you two have been up to.”

They each had a bite of their pizza while Mrs. Lewis eyed them curiously, asking, “So, are you two back together, or…?”

“No,” Zoey hurriedly responded, swallowing down her bite of food, “No, Mikey, here, has found himself a girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend yet,” Michael narrowed his eyes at her.

Zoey grinned in amusement, wiggling her eyebrows at Mr. and Mrs. Lewis who laughed, “So how did you meet this girl?”

“She’s a new hire at work. She’s the receptionist.”

“So no dating apps for you, then, huh?” Mr. Lewis joked before turning to Zoey, “What about you? Any boyfriends in LA?”

Zoey shrugged, feeling a little more confident in being more open now that she knew she didn’t have to worry about Michael being hurt. But she didn’t want to get into too much detail. Surely they didn’t need to know about all of her one night stands, friends with benefits, and sleeping with an international celebrity. So she simply said, “I’ve been dipping my toes in the dating scene, but nothing serious so far.”

“No?” Mrs. Lewis asked, expression bordering confusion, “I thought your mom said you had a boyfriend who took you and your sister to Italy for your birthday?”

Zoey’s eyes widened, unsure of what to say. Certainly, no one ever told her mother that Harry and she were a thing. Mrs. Lewis must have misunderstood. At least she was none the wiser on who the supposed ‘boyfriend’ was. She shook her head, laughing in an attempt to conceal her surprise, “No, no, no. I mean, yeah, I went to Italy, but it was with several of my friends. Boy friends, not boyfriend.” 

She stared at them fixedly to make sure they believed her. When they nodded and continued to ask her about her trip to Italy, she felt Michael’s suspicious gaze on the side of her face. She ignored it, telling them all about the guided tour, Katie’s crush on a cute Italian boy, shopping in the lanes, pizza making, wine tasting, and all of the dreamy nights spent poolside underneath the stars. 

“We’ve only been there once on our honeymoon,” Mrs. Lewis fondly recalled, smiling dewy-eyed, “I’m so glad you were able to meet some nice friends in LA. Jess would be so happy for you.”

Mr. Lewis placed a supportive hand on his wife’s back and Zoey pursed her lips with wide puppy-eyes. She missed Jess and wished, more than anything, she could have experienced all of this with her. She wanted to make new friends in LA with her, immerse themselves in Italian culture, she wanted to go on double dates with Jess, she wanted to go on more beach trips with her and ride on the back of sketchy motorcycles side-by-side, she wanted to tell Jess all about Harry and all the gross, cliche, sappy little moments between them that made the butterflies in her stomach go crazy. She wished Jess were here as a lending ear to hear her rant about the absurdity that came along with stupid boy crushes and as a shoulder to cry on when the unavoidable overwhelming grief took over her when Paul was no longer here. 

They’ll be together, she told herself. She’ll be in safe hands with Paul. They’ll be looking down on all of us, proud. They did this. The two of them. Jess and Paul were the light of this town, the reason why so many were compassionate, kind, and happy. And Zoey took solace in knowing that the world was a better place because of those two people. She was a better person because of them. And she will love them until the day she meets them again.

The minor display of emotion caused a group hug between the four of them and when they pulled away, they all laughed. After lunch, Mr. and Mrs. Lewis took the two of them to the poolhouse to check out Jess’s old living space. They hadn’t done much with it. They explained that they had plans to eventually make it into a guest house. They wanted to paint and get new furniture, but they hadn’t had the heart to change it entirely just yet. Most of her things were still there. Framed pictures of her with her friends, books that she was reading, most of her wardrobe still in the closet and dresser drawers. But it looked cleaner and more organized. There weren’t random clothes strewn about the floor or makeup covering the vanity. It felt different.

“Do you mind….can I have this?” Zoey asked, holding up a framed picture of her and Jess sitting on Zoey’s trampoline.

Mrs. Lewis smiled, nodding a yes. They talked a little longer before they decided it was probably time to get going and the couple led them to the front. “I’m so glad you were able to stop by, you guys. Thank you for thinking of us,” Mrs. Lewis sang.

“Thanks for having us. And for the pizza,” Michael smiled, giving them each a hug, followed by Zoey.

As they made their way towards Michael’s car, Zoey suddenly remembered and turned, calling out, “Oh! I almost forgot. My parents are having a BBQ tomorrow around 2. It’ll be my last night here before I catch the red-eye home. Would you two like to come? Michael’s parents will be there, too.”

The two of them smiled, looking at each other briefly before nodding and Mr. Lewis said, “We’ll see you two tomorrow, then.”

She grinned at them before jumping in Michael’s car and heading back to her parents’ house. The journey back was mostly discussions reflecting on Mr. and Mrs. Lewis and how happy they were to see the two of them in a better mental state than the previous year, but by the time they reached Zoey’s house, the conversation had changed to bets on which parent got drunk at the BBQ first. Zoey bet Paul would be first while Michael had bet on Mr. Lewis.

She had assumed that Michael would only be dropping her off at home, saying a quick goodbye to her parents on the way out. But her mom had cornered him, practically forcing him to stay for dinner as she was making her ‘world-famous shepherds pie’, which honestly had no taste to it and had no business being called ‘world-famous’. Not wanting to be rude, Michael accepted and stayed to eat. Throughout dinner Mary subtly hinted at her desire for Zoey to move back home, discussing the office remodel, mentioning little trips they could take as a family, and visits to Katie in college. It was clear that she was suffering from pre-empty nest syndrome, but she was laying it on thick.

After dinner was finished, Zoey had offered to clear the table, and with the help of Michael, loaded the dishes into the dishwasher. She dried her hands on a spare dish rag that sat on the countertop, staring at the framed picture of her and Jess that she had placed there right before they ate. Michael looked over at her, then to the yard, and back at her. 

“Come on,” he urged, taking the picture and leading the way towards the back door.

Zoey followed him outside, the sun setting and the faint, flickering glow of the lightning bugs hovered and the warm porch lights illuminated the garden. Michael climbed onto the trampoline, bouncing on his knees as she climbed on after him. The lack of netting surrounding the trampoline always terrified her mom, but she and her sister always hated the idea of being confined, so she left it open. 

The springs from the trampoline squeaked and creaked as they sat cross-legged, facing each other. Zoey slipped the picture out of Michael’s hands, running a few fingers across Jess’s face. She hadn’t seen her in so long that she was beginning to feel like Jess was a made-up imaginary friend. She needed these pictures and trinkets, like her bracelet, as proof of her existence. 

“Can’t believe it’s been a year,” Zoey hushed.

Michael nodded, pausing before wondering, “What do you think we’d be doing right now if she was still here?”

“We’d probably still be together,” Zoey said, laughing and looking up at him, teary-eyed “My life has changed so much in the past year. I’ve experienced more in the last four months than I have my whole entire life and she wasn’t here for any of it.”

“She was there,” Michael placed a reassuring hand on her knee, “you know that.”

“It’s not the same,” she shook her head, laying down on her back to look up at the stars, her hair scattering around her while holding the picture to her stomach.

Michael laid down beside her, sighing. The two of them had been through so much in the past year, and it still wasn’t over. He was glad that someone else understood what he was going through, but the fact that they had to go through this at all was ridiculous. There was a long silence before Zoey finally spoke again, the subject changed.

“So...tell me about this new girl of yours. Has she met the parents yet?”

Michael groaned again, “No because it’s not serious yet.”

“Oh, come on, you don’t have to be afraid to tell me. I broke up with you, remember?”

“There’s just not much to say. It’s too new,” Micheal shrugged, turning his attention towards her. “Besides, what about you?”

“What about me?” she asked defensively, furrowing her eyebrows at him.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” he smirked, “you don’t think I noticed the panic in your voice when Mrs. Lewis mentioned the ‘FRIEND’ who took you and Katie to Italy?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she blushed, looking back up at the night’s sky.

“I was with you for over four years. I know when you’re lying.”

Zoey rolled her eyes in annoyance, hating how predictable and easy-to-read she was. Hating the fact that she was about to talk about a man she considered to be her soulmate to a man she thought she would end up marrying. When did her life become this complicated?  

“First of all, he was never my boyfriend. Nothing even happened before the trip to Italy,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“Oh, so things happened in Italy, then?” He sounded cheeky, “Tell me about him. What’s he like?”

Zoey chuckled, trying to connect the dots of the stars above her, seeing what sort of pictures she could make out of them, “You wouldn’t even believe me if I told you,” she said under her breath. Sighing, she spoke louder, “It doesn’t matter, though. We kind of got into a fight. I don’t think it’s going to work out.”

“A fight about what?”

“Something stupid,” she admitted, “I called him out because he can’t ever make up his mind about what he wants and I basically told him I didn’t want to waste my time. He’s the one that called at dinner last night.”

“Is that why you came inside looking all upset?” Michael turned to look at Zoey, earning a nod in response. Michael slowly turned to look back up at the sky, putting his hands behind his head to elevate it a bit more, “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re right. You deserve to be prioritized. You’re worth it.”

“Thanks, Mikey.”

“No problem.”

The two of them laid there in comfortable silence for what felt like an hour, counting the stars when they heard a crack from the back door opening and closing. She figured it would just be Katie wanting to join in on the conversation. But when a deep, humble, monotone voice sounded her name from behind them, the two of them sat up, surprised by the unexpected visitor.

“Harry?!”

KEEP READING

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Taglist for Somebody To You:

@thurhomish​ , @stilljosiegrossie​ , @odetostep​ , @apples2019​ , @stylesmioamore​ , @inyourhaven​

[bravonovel]

FINALLY FOUND YOU - Lisa Mathew & Augustus Carlos - Read Online - Bravonovel

FINALLY FOUND YOU https://www.bravonovel.com/finally-found-you-8170

FINALLY FOUND YOU novel is a Romance story about Lisa Mathew and Augustus Carlos.

Lisa Mathew worked as a receptionist in a 3-star hotel. She cherished this job very much as a widow with a six-year-old-son. One day, she met a dashing hot guest name Augustus Carlos. She didn't recognize that he was the new boss of their hotel. All her colleagues believed she had annoyed their new big boss and would be fired. But Augustus weirdly forgave her and promoted her as the vice manager?!! More astonishing, the man said he had a secret crush on her for over six months and proposed. But she had never met him before. She should refuse, but her mouth had already spoken "Yes"....

You can read FINALLY FOUND YOU novel on Bravonovel Web or App.

FINALLY FOUND YOU novel Chapter 1

It’s the starting of the month of October. It’s usually warm in daytime and cold at night in Rome, Italy. A beautiful woman with the height of 5’9 ft was jogging in Villa Ada Park. She used to come here since her husband died and her life became a mess. She kept herself locked and started to get depressed. When her best friend, Sasha saw her like this, she took her to Villa Ada Park to cheer her and encourage her to start her life again. Not for her but for her son.

Then, she started to walk in that park every morning and slowly her mind started getting clear and she started to look for job. As she was young, when she got married. She didn’t have any qualification to apply for job. But, by her appearance she looked well qualified. The way she spoke to people impressed them immediately. She didn’t have any choice for job so she applied for receptionist in many hotels, restaurants and parlors. She was not really confident about getting a job. But, one day out of the blue, after a month of her interview. She has been called from a Hotel named Hotel Colosseum, a 3 star hotel. Asking her to start the job as a receptionist.

It was totally unexpected for her, she said yes immediately and started her job as a receptionist, two months ago. It was not a big salary but atleast she has taken a first step towards her new life. As usual, she was jogging in high spirits without noticing a powerful gaze on her.

From the last 3 months, that gaze was constantly on her. But she never looked at him as if he’s invisible for her. He had been exercising in this park for long time. But, nobody was able to get his attention except her. When he first saw her, she was so skinny, pale and looked pitiful sitting on the bench, thinking of something and crying for half an hour. He used to see her crying quietly but never tried to console her. He wanted her to come over from it. And one day, he saw her walking instead of sitting at her regular place. She was walking with headphones on, still not interacting with people. But at least, she is not crying now. He used to follow her for walk.

As usual, she didn’t notice him at all. After exercise, she turned all sweaty and her skin became red like a tomato. For other woman, being sweaty means ugly but she looked more beautiful after being exhausted. Now, her skin is not pale anymore. It’s getting her colour back and though now her body shape is also going back to normal. After finishing her walk, she gets back to her home. And he headed back to his home. He didn’t follow her after that, he just used to see her in the morning at the park. It’s the main purpose of his to come to this park. He didn’t follow her further nor did he know her name at all.

...

After Lisa Mathew reached her home, she took shower, ate breakfast, and headed to the Hotel in her working clothes. When she reached hotel, everyone was discussing something and suddenly one of her colleague pulled her and told her the shocking news.

“Hey, do you know that owner of Hotel caught red-handed by his wife. She has taken everything from him. He is left with this hotel only and he’s going to sell it to survive. I don’t know if new owner would bring his own staff or let us continue this job.?” After listening to it, she got really nervous. It’s just been two months, she started her job and now someone can kick her out just like this. Just when she was feeling grateful, Life again shows her there is no peace without any hardships..

Just as she was lost in her thoughts, her colleague pulled her back by saying, “See, your newcomer but still you feel disappointed and what about us.? We have been working for more than 5 years. I swear, if they kick us out. We are going to protest about it.” As she said it, other colleague also nodded in agreement. As Lisa had just started this job, she never gossiped about her colleague. And never got herself in the work politics. She managed an apologetic smile to her colleagues and went straight to her desk.

Till afternoon, she did her work ignoring the gossips around her. While she was working with her head down, a man tap on the desk. She looked up and saw a man wearing black colored suit and black sunglasses looked like a spy or serial killer. “Hello.! How can I help you.?” She asked politely. “Hello.! I forget my card inside the presidential suite. Can I get another one.?” He asked with a straight face. She searched in her computer for presidential suite to verify the man before handing key. She saw that it was booked by the name of Augustus Carlos.

So, she asked him, “Are you Mr. Augustus Carlos.?”

He replied, “No” She said, “I’m sorry sir, the suite is booked by the name of Augustus Carlos. I can only hand him the card not anyone else except him.”

“What.?” The man got angry and shocked. “Do you know who I am.?” He asked.

Lisa gave him a polite smile and said calmly, “Sorry sir, Rules Policy.” While the man was staring at her, a hand approached from behind him calmly said in a low voice, “Go, I’ll handle this.” Lester saw his boss and a look of fear appeared on his face. He tried to apologize to him because that Stupid woman is not handing him card. His boss would think of him as useless man, who couldn’t even bring a room card for him.

He ignored Lester and stand in front of desk. “Hello.! I am Augustus Carlos.” Lisa looked at him from her screen. His face looked like mixed-race, she couldn’t tell if he was Italian or American. His body looked well built in his three piece dark blue suit, long legs and cheetah like physique. He was about 6’3 ft tall. He was wearing blue colored branded glasses in which she can see her face. After taking a close look at him, she asked. “Hello.! Mr. Augustus can I see your i. d please.?” Augustus looked at her with admiration and there was a slight light in his eyes, he immediately think of something and said, “Well, I forget my i. d in my room with my card.”

“Sorry sir, Rules Policy. I need to see your i. d.” She said apologetically. “Why do you think I would pretend as Mr. Augustus Carlos.?” He asked curiously. “I don’t know, sir.” Lisa said. “Maybe he is a famous man. What do you think.? Ms. Lisa Mathew.?” He asked teasingly.

“Sir, I can’t comment on this. It’s rules policy even if man is famous or not I have to follow the policy.” She said in a serious professional tone. “How about this. You come with me and I’ll show you my i. d card I left in my room.” He offered. She hesitated then said, “Ok sir.” “Great” As he was about to enter in lift. He signaled Lester not to follow. Lester stopped and turned away from elevator.

After the door closed, Lester said to himself, “What’s wrong with the boss.? Just now when he told me he forgot his card. He was so angry. Before stepping out of the car, he has send me to bring the key and now suddenly his mood changed. And he’s happily heading in elevator with the receptionist, when he can call the manager for card and get her fired.” He scratched his head and looked at the front desk astonishingly.

......

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[kittinoir]

Phantoms Ch. 4

Read on Ao3 here

Adrien considered himself a kind, forgiving person, but even he stiffened as a familiar high-pitched voice grated against his ears.

“Hi, Adrien!” the voice chirped, right beside him now. Stifling a sigh, Adrien hauled his professional mask into place and opened his eyes, his relaxing thirty minutes in the hair and make up chair clearly over.

“Hi, Lila,” he said. Did she notice the undercurrent of tension in his voice? Did she believe the warmth in it? He certainly didn’t. He’d have to try harder than this. “Did you have a nice trip with your mom?”

“Oh, yeah,” Lila said breezily. She tugged the lapels of her jacket as she sat, straightening out an invisible crease. “It was so great to be home and soak it all in. Your dad even asked if I’d have time to sit down with him and talk about the latest Italian trends for his spring collection - after we shoot this winter one, of course!”

Adrien fought the urge to raise a brow at the lies that rolled off her tongue but her words had hit a nerve. His father didn’t even make time to have dinner with him; as if he was going to sit down with Lila to discuss her fake trip. He had to admit, he was beginning to see why Marinette had such a tough time stomaching Lila. It was harder than he’d realized.

“Of course,” he managed. At least he could avoid looking at her as Ava, his make up artist, tilted his face this way and that. He didn’t know how to navigate their uneasy agreement anymore. He’d kept her at bay for the better part of six months, trading on the only thing that was of any worth to her - his fame. But even that no longer seemed to be enough, and what more she wanted, he could only guess at. Her trip to Italy the past three weeks had been a welcome reprieve. He could only imagine how she would have reacted if she’d been in Paris during his endless hunt for Ladybug. It hadn’t been good the week immediately after his partner’s disappearance.

She seemed fine now, though, as she preened for Marc, her own make up artist. If anything, Lila seemed in higher spirits than he’d ever seen her. One upon a time Adrien might have thought she was beginning to find her place with their friends, but he held no such beliefs about her now. Maybe it wasn’t totally fair to compare her to his arch enemy, but Lila was every bit as dangerous and conniving as Hawkmoth. It had taken nearly losing Ladybug to an akuma to realize it. He wouldn’t underestimate her again. Especially now that he knew Lila’s two enemies were the same person. He didn’t even want to think about her discovering that little truth. They had enough problems to deal with as it was.

“I was thinking,” Lila said, her green eyes sliding to his, “Why don’t we grab some hot chocolate after the shoot, Adrien? You can catch me up on everything I’ve missed and we can spend some quality time together - you know, as friends?”

Adrien suppressed a wince, but it was impossible to miss the thinly veiled threat. The truth was he had a Chinese lesson waiting for him after the shoot and, had it been a normal night, a patrol to prepare for.

But normal was different now, and Viperion and Tigress had patrol covered. If Luka and Juleka’s mom noticed them missing, she never made mention of it - even if band practice had suddenly moved from their house boat to Ivan’s garage. At least, that’s what they’d told her, and the unfortunate truth was Chinese could be put off for an hour or two. Would have to be, if he wanted to uphold his end of their bargain.

“Sure,” Adrian said lightly. “My treat.”

“Like a date?” Lila said smoothly, raising a brow.

Adrien froze, his fingers white-knuckled on the arms of his chair. “What?”

“If it’s your treat,” Lila said, facing him, “Doesn’t that make it a date?”

“Not at all,” Adrien said, fighting for calm. “You can get it next time. Since we’re friends.”

He steeled himself for the tantrums that usually followed when she didn’t get her way, but instead, she just regarded him sadly. “Still not over Kagami?”

Adrien blinked. Kagami. If only. She’d barely spoken two words to him since he’d ended their relationship months ago, unable to move past his feeling’s for Ladybug. He didn’t blame her. But no, Kagami had never really held his heart. It wasn’t her laugh and her eyes and her warmth that he missed.

But as he took in Lila’s glittering eyes, he decided she didn’t need to know that.

“I just…don’t have those kinds of feelings for you,” Adrien said, giving her a facet of the truth - the most important piece of it. “I’m sorry.”

“I see,” Lila said with a short laugh. “My mistake. But I wish you would give me a chance, Adrien. You’d see what a positive influence you’ve been on me. How much I’ve changed. I think you’d be impressed.”

He doubted it, but Adrien kept the thought to himself as he stood. “I’m glad to hear it, Lila. See you out there.”

A blush didn’t even warm his cheeks as he made his way to his trailer. Dozens of girls confessed to him, every single day. He’d gotten used to it since he’d done his first campaign. Most of them didn’t bother him. After all, it wasn’t like any of them knew him personally. Lila did, but there was always an angle with her. She was after his name and the celebrity that came with it. If she had to go through his heart to get it, she would.

Luckily, his heart was guarded by the most formidable woman in Paris. And unfortunately for Lila, she didn’t hold a candle to her.

Still, the back of Adrien’s neck prickled as he got changed for the first look of the shoot. He’d never known Lila to go down without a fight once she had her mind set on something. He’d bet her sympathy was about as real as her sit down with his father. But she hadn’t forced his hand. Why?

His suspicions pestered him throughout the entire shoot. Was it that she genuinely wanted him to care for her? Did she really want him to be ready to move on before she pushed her agenda? And, the most far-fetched of all - was it at all possible she’d had a change of heart?

No, he decided as Lila simpered for the camera, cold even where she leaned against him. There was more to this - more to her rivalry with Marinette and her alter ego - than either girl was letting on. A rivalry he was beginning to realize he was somehow at the centre of. If only Lila realized there wasn’t a competition - Marinette didn’t want him. Not the way he wanted her.

“How about a kiss for this last shot?”

Lila’s voice shattered Adrien’s musings, bringing him abruptly back to the moment at hand. Had she said kiss? No, she hadn’t changed one bit.

Adrien glanced up to where Lila was pointing at the roof of the set. Someone had hung mistletoe from the rafters so that it just dangled into the frame, completing the winter wonderland theme that had been chosen.

Thankfully, the photographer saved him.

“No, no,” Vincent said with a shake of his head. “Romance is not the theme. Sharp, cold lines, minimalism, harsh beauty, that is the vision for Mr. Gabriel’s new line.”

Dramatic, Adrien thought, but from what he could tell, the set up did compliment his father’s designs - and thankfully, saved him from Lila.

“Of course, Vincent,” Lila said. “It was just an idea. I only wanted to show the clothes in their best possible light.”

Vincent waved her off, directing them into position as a light was adjusted.

“I know what you’re doing,” Adrien murmured as Lila stepped up beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she whispered back, a smile dancing around her lips.

“I meant what I said, Lila,” Adrien warned. “I don’t - ”

“I know,” she interrupted, annoyance flashing across her face as her facade finally cracked. “I just think you need a little help mending your broken heart.”

She wasn’t going to stop, he realized. She was going to try to wear him down. It would take the whole truth - as much as he could say - to get her to back off. He hoped.

“Sorry, Lila,” Adrien said, “But my heart isn’t broken. It’s just elsewhere.”

Lila’s head whipped around as those calculating eyes searched his face. Adrien wasn’t sure what she found there, but whatever it was made her scowl.

“Who,” she demanded quietly as Vincent called for them to take their position.

“It doesn’t matter,” Adrien said, lacing his fingers through hers where her hand rested on his shoulder. “It’s not you.”

They fell silent as Vincent began snapping away. Adrien had no doubt this shot would be the pinnacle of his father’s collection; certainly enough frigidness had formed between the two of them to be palpable on film.

“That’s a wrap!” Vincent called ten minutes later. “Great job everyone!”

Adrien relaxed, immediately stepping out from under Lila’s fingers.

“I can make you love me.”

Adrien froze, then slowly turned to face Lila. The girl was staring at him, determination blazing in her eyes, her hands clenched into fists.

“I really don’t think you can,” Adrien said quietly, a hard edge creeping into his voice. “I won’t say this again, Lila. We’re friends. Just friends. And if you want to continue being the face of Gabriel with me, you’ll respect that.”

Dangerous, but he’d figured out why she was suddenly pushing for more from him; she didn’t need his fame anymore. She had her own. Modelling for Gabriel had given her that, along with several other modelling jobs and a sponsorship from a cosmetics line.

But being fired from Gabriel would jeopardize that. It was hard to use someone’s name to open doors when you didn’t work for them anymore, and though Lila might not know it yet, her leverage over him had evaporated the day Marinette had revealed her identity to their team. He’d kept up the charade for convenience - and it was no longer convenient.

“It’s Marinette, isn’t it.” Hatred burned in Lila’s eyes. “It’s always Marinette.”

Adrien pursed his lips but stayed silent. There was no point in denying it. Everyone would know soon enough anyway; the way he felt was impossible to hide. It didn’t matter if she didn’t feel the same way about him. He’d been down that road before. He’d never ask anything from her she couldn’t give, but he’d never been good at hiding his feelings.

But loving her was the one thing he could not, would not apologize for, ever.

“Good bye, Lila,” Adrien said, turning back to his trailer. “I’ll see you at school.”

“Wait a second,” Lila said. He heard her take a few steps after him but she didn’t lay a hand on him again. “We have a date.”

“Not anymore,” Adrien said without turning around.

“You’ll regret this, Adrien,” Lila snapped. “I will own your heart!”

“A heart isn’t something you own, Lila.” Adrien smiled. “It’s something you give. And I’ve already given mine away.”