#hope you day is lighter and gentle on your souls xx

[ladychlo]

[lale-txt]

Hi my sweet darling Lale 💖💖💖

Could I please get gn reader x Rosinante ringing in the new year together? Something sweet and lovely with fireworks and drinks maybe?

Love you darling xx

Ace my angel, my sunshine, my darling 💖 i wanted to finish this before 2022 but then again what is time. i worked around it, hehe. hope you still enjoy it!

word count: 597

(late) New Year's Eve w/ Rosinante & gn reader

"But it won't be the same."

You pout, your arms wrapped around your husband's waist, pressing your face against his broad back. You were both standing in the kitchen (maybe your favorite place in your small house), finally reunited after painfully long weeks without him.

Rosinante was humming while stirring the pots with your dinner. He had missed your shared meals but even more he had missed you and your warmth while he was away on another mission. No matter how many letters you wrote or how many secret phone calls over transponder snails you had, it was never enough to silence his yearning heart. He worried about you every time he was gone and the thought of seeing your smiling face again carried him through those lonely days.

"Time is a construct and that means we can celebrate the new year whenever we want, my darling.", he cooed, turning around to you. "Here, try this. Does this need more salt?"

You let him feed you, your heart melting while he eagerly awaited your response. After a long dramatic pause you smile, pulling him down to you by the collar of his shirt.

"It's perfect. Just like you are. Now kiss me, chef."

You can feel him smiling against your lips as you both kiss in a way only lovers could, gentle and knowing, like two hearts embracing each other under the stars. How you had missed the feeling of his lips setting your soul on fire.

After your hearty dinner (only interrupted by Rosinante's coat catching fire on the stove, a minor inconvenience at this point) you both snuggle up on the sofa. As you rest against his chest, you can feel his heart beating under your hand, a calm and steady sound, reminding you that you're alive, that you're both here and now. Hearts beating in unison. His fingers run through your hair, softly massaging your skull and releasing all the tension you held in his absence. Somehow breathing felt much lighter already, now that he was back.

"It's almost midnight, should we head outside?", he asks, kissing you gently on the forehead and the temples.

You give him a wondering look but nod. After all, he had too many secrets to carry on his shoulders anyway, you didn't want to spoil a potential surprise by asking too many questions. Whatever he has up his sleeve will either light up like a christmas tree or make your heart jump. Probably nothing in between.

While you put on your coat, Rosinante excuses himself and rushes in the kitchen, only to come back with two champagne flutes and a bottle of cooled sparkling wine in his hands.

"Oh, what's the occasion, mister?", you ask with a wink as he leans down to kiss you again before he wraps your scarf around you, making sure you're staying warm.

"Oh, just celebrating another year full of love and adventures with my little sunflower.", he smirks.

You both head outside and take a small walk hand in hand through your wild garden before you pop the bottle of champagne, clinking your glasses together, just in time as some fireworks go off in the distance. So that was the surprise. How did he...?

"Happy new year to the light of my life.", he whispers, pulling you close for a deep, intimate kiss that almost swept you off your feet if he hadn't held you so tight, so close. "Sorry again for not being there at the turn of the year. But I promise you, we have forever. You have my heart, forever."

[iwritethingslol]

Hi, I loved your first two Javi oneshots and I was wondering if you could do a dad!javi request! It would be greatly appreciated. Xx

Daddy Dearest {F}

GIF by @nobie

Warnings: none. 

I’m so glad to hear you loved my oneshots! Hope you guys enjoy some dad!javier bc I know I did when I wrote it! xxstar

(please don’t plagiarize my work. I spend a lot of time to perfectly execute my ideas for any sort of work that I put out on this app.)

-

You slowly wake up and turn over to wrap your arm around Javier until you realize the spot usually occupied by the man you love is empty. You raise your head and blink yourself awake to find that you’re alone in your bedroom making you sit up.

The alarm clock on Javier’s side of the bed reads 2:35 AM. That alone makes you even more confused as you get up from the bed to find your missing husband but you hear the hushed voice of Javier that leads you all the way to your girl’s room.

“That’s how I met your mom, mi querida,” you hear Javier mumble with a smile on his face as he holds your daughter in his arms, “she was so beautiful the first time I laid eyes on her... she took my breath away,” his tone soft as he stares down at his baby girl, Eliza.

You keep yourself hidden in the dark hallway as you continue to watch your husband tell her more of how you and he came to be.

“Your papa wasn’t such a good man, mi querida,” his words making you frown that Javier would say that about himself, “I did things I’m still not proud of but you and your mom are the two most things I’m proud of having in my life. tu eres mi corazón y alma and I can’t thank the gods enough to have you and your mother here with me.”

He leans down and places a gentle kiss on top of your daughter’s head as he just smiles at her unable to comprehend the fact that he could ever have something as lovely as his own child in his arms.

“Mi dulce chica,” his words soft as he runs a finger down his daughter’s chubby cheeks, “I hope you know no matter what your papa will always be here for you.”

The sight alone brings tears to your eyes and a smile makes its way onto your face knowing how much Javier loves your baby girl, remembering the day she came into the world. The tears your husband had in his eyes when he finally got to hold his daughter.

“Look at her, mi amor,” his tone wavering as he lets out a laugh, “she’s beautiful, just like her mama.”

Just from that, you knew that your daughter had her father wrapped around her little finger. The whole night in the hospital room, Javier kept her beside the both of you as he watched over her for any sign of distress on her little face that would lead him to bring her in his arms as he calmed her with sweet words and kisses until she’d fall back asleep.

“Come on, her uncle wants to hold her,” Steve rushed out as he walked over to Javier and your daughter with a big smile.

Javier takes a small step back before he looks up unimpressed, “did you wash your hands?” He brings your daughter closer to him as he waits for Steve’s answer.

Steve lets out a sigh, “what? of course, I did, now can I please hold my goddaughter?” He questions as you and Connie watch the interaction only for both of you to laugh while Javier nitpicks Steve holding your daughter.

“Don’t hold her like that!”

“What are you talking about! I’m holding her like you told me!”

Soon enough the evident cries from your daughter make Javier grumble and bring her back into his arms, “now look at what you did,” Steve just stares at him before looking at Connie confused, “it’s okay, mi dulce chica, papa’s here.”

You can’t help but let a little laugh escape your lips of the memory bringing you to place a hand on your stomach remembering the day you Javier found that you were pregnant with your baby girl.

Your hands shake as you stare at the test in your hands, “no, no, no,” you sob out and throw the test onto the sink, “this can’t be happening,” you beg only to look up at your reflection in the mirror.

Javi.

The thought of how your husband would take the news makes you wince, Javier has never told you his thoughts on having a baby and neither did you but you knew that it wouldn’t be the right time for either of you. The fear of what he might say about it brings more tears to the surface until you hear the front door open, “cariño, I’m home!” he yells making you rush to throw the test into the trash and struggle to wipe away the tears.

You open the bathroom door and walk out, trying to smile, “Hi baby, how was work?” You question making Javier turn to you with a smile of his own until he sees your eyes.

“Angel, are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying,” his gentle words make your smile falter before you shake your head, unable to say anything due to fact that it will make the truth fall out but Javier knew you, “you can tell me, it’s okay cariño...”

You watch as Javier comes over and gently places his hands on your cheeks, his smile gone and worry takes over his handsome features only making you let out a whimper as tears blur your vision, “my love... what’s wrong?” You shake your head as you try to hide your tears by leaning into his chest trying to figure out how to tell him until you mumble the words.

“I’m pregnant.”

Javier stiffens before he moves back enough to place a hand under your chin and brings your gaze to see him, his eyes searching yours, “you’re pregnant?” his voice so soft that if the house wasn’t quiet you wouldn’t have heard him.

You nod and begin to try and apologize before Javier pulls you into a kiss until he pulls away with a smile, “you’re not mad?” The words cause Javier to frown and wipe away the tears that slid down your cheeks.

“Cariño, why would I have anything to be mad about?”

You continue to be confused as you sniffle, “Javier, after everything... do you think we’re even close to being ready for a child?” Javier knows it’s true that everything that happened with Escobar was far from perfect but he couldn’t stop himself from preening at the news of you being pregnant with his baby.

Javier sighs and nods but the thought of having a baby, a family with you brings a smile to his face, “you’re right, mi amor but that’s all over now,” he assures and places a kiss on your head, “and yes we may not be ready at this moment but the thought of having a child with you is more than enough to know I’m ready for anything.”

That day always reminds you of just how much you’re happy that Javier is the one you get to spend the rest of your life with. 

“Cariño? I didn’t know you were awake,” your husband’s word making you look up to find him walking over to Eliza’s crib and put her back inside before he walks over to you, “did I wake you?”

You stare up at Javier as your heart swells for him, “no, mi amor, I woke up to hold my darling husband but he wasn’t next to him,” you joke making the smile that still manages to make your chest feel lighter show up on his face.

“I’m sorry, Eli was crying and so I came to check up on her but I ended up staying longer than I real-” you cut him off with a kiss that leads him to place a hand on your waist as he deepens it.

You pull away and grab his hand, “it’s okay,” you assure and begin to gently pull him towards the room, “let’s go to bed, my love.”

As you both lay back down in your room, Javier kisses you once more as he stares at you with complete admiration, “Thank you.”

You scrunch up your face in confusion while he pulls you into his chest, “for what, baby?”

“For loving me... and for giving me a family that I never thought I could actually have.”

-

translation:

mi querida - my dear

cariño - sweetheart

tu eres mi corazón y alma - you are my heart and soul

mi dulce chica - my sweet girl

mi amor - my love

[suituuup]

pieces - chapter three

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca sees her again in the most unexpected place.

rated: E for drug use and sex scenes

AO3 LINK

*

“Bec?” 

Beca hummed absentmindedly, blinking out of her daze and twisting her head in the direction of the voice. 

Sarah smiled gently as she leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen. She cocked an eyebrow, giving a pointed look towards the sink. “I think the pan is clean.” 

Beca glanced down, stilling her movements. She had been scrubbing that pan for probably ten minutes now, her thoughts completely consumed by Chloe and what she was supposed to do next. 

Chloe clearly didn’t want to see her, and Beca wasn’t going to wait by the phone when it was clear that Chloe was far from okay. She was thinner than Beca remembered, and the look in her eye, the lack of light in those once bright blues, chilled Beca to the bone. 

She looked… broken. As though her spirit had repeatedly been battered until all that was left were mere pieces of her old self. 

If there were any left at all.

Beca couldn’t stand the thought of not doing anything, and she needed to come up with a plan to help Chloe without driving her into a corner and risk losing her forever. 

“What’s going on?” Sarah questioned, pushing off the doorframe and padding over. She rested her hand between Beca’s shoulder blades, her eyebrows knitted together in concern. “You’ve seemed off today.” 

Beca released a sigh, setting the pan down into the sink and reaching for the dishtowel laying next to her on the counter to dry her hands. “I’m sorry, I’m just… worried about a friend.” 

Sarah nodded slowly. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Sarah was unexpected, to say the least. Beca was a workaholic, and her career was too time-consuming for her to get into the whole dating thing. But Sarah, who happened to work as a barista in Beca’s favorite independent coffee shop, had somehow managed to convince Beca to go out with her. One dinner surprisingly turned into a second date, then a third, and it just like that, it had been almost a year since they officially got together. 

Sarah was gentle, patient, understanding, overflowing with positivity, but most of all, incredibly kind. She reminded Beca of Chloe, sometimes. And maybe it was those similar personality traits that drew Beca to her in the first place. 

They didn’t live together. Beca could feel that it was the next expected step on her girlfriend’s end, but she didn’t feel ready to commit, yet. She liked her own space, her solitude. So Sarah spent a few nights a week at Beca’s place, like tonight, and Beca was fine with that. 

“Not really,” she replied, casting Sarah an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, it’s just-- complicated right now.” 

“You need to stop apologizing,” Sarah murmured, her expression soft and loving. Beca let her shoulders sag, ready to apologize again. “I understand. But if you do change your mind and need to let something off your chest, I’m here.” 

Beca nodded. “Thanks.” 

“Are you coming to bed?” 

“Not yet, I wanna get some work done, first.” She leaned in to peck Sarah’s lips. “You go ahead, I’ll join you soon.” 

Walking across the living room and past the huge floor to ceiling windows looking over Central Park, Beca made her way to her home office, her happy place. She had bought the Manhattan condo two years ago, making it a requirement during her house-hunt to have a large room with plenty of light and enough space to store all her records and her music equipment. It was also where she kept her Grammys and other prizes, away from the attention as nobody really stepped into her office.

She usually popped a blues album on the record player, enjoying the soothing instrumentals while she replied to various emails, but not tonight. Tonight, she grabbed a yellow legal notepad and her headphones from her desk and curled up on the leather couch tucked in the far corner, then scrolled to her Spotify playlists until she found the one she was looking for. 

she is magic

Beca couldn’t remember the last time she had listened to her Chloe playlist, one she had made back in Barden when she was hopelessly in love with her best friend. They were songs that reminded her of Chloe, or songs that Chloe liked. Or used to like, at least. 

As lyrics she knew so well poured into her headphones, blocking out the rest of the world, different ones flowed out of Beca’s heart, materializing on the paper in front of her in black ink as she scribbled across the page. Lyrics about friendship, unrequited love, and regrets for listening to her brain and not her heart all these years ago. 

It was pushing on two am by the time Beca called it a night. Her eyes burned, her mind felt mushy, but her soul felt a tiny bit lighter. Music had always been her therapy, and writing songs had always proved more efficient than paying a licensed professional, even though it had been years since Beca had last finished one, for lack of inspiration. 

Or rather, because of the absence of her muse. 

*

She woke up five hours later to a stiff neck and sore back, the bright sunlight pouring in from the windows lining one of her office walls drawing her from her sleep. She had meant to go to bed, before deciding to close her eyes for five minutes right on the couch. 

Straightening with a groan, she grabbed her phone and turned it over, hoping to see a text from an unknown number on her screen. 

Aubrey Posen [6:23am]

Any news? 

Aubrey Posen [6:37am]

Should I come to New York? 

Aubrey practiced family law up in Boston. She and Beca saw each other a few times a year, whenever Aubrey was in the city. Bella reunions were a bit more scarce now, with the girls being scattered all around the country. Their last one dated back to a year and a half ago, on the Fourth of July. 

Beca ran a hand over her face and heaved out a sigh, swiping her thumb across the screen to unlock it. 

Beca [7:16am]

No news yet. I think I’m gonna wait a few days before I head back to the club, if she doesn’t call in the meantime that is. The manager gave me serious sleazy vibes and I’m sure he could blacklist me if I’m too insistent. I don’t think there’s any need for you to come down for now. I’ll keep you posted. 

Hitting send, Beca pushed to her feet and shuffled out of her office, hanging a left down the hall towards the kitchen. A note next to her coffee thermos sat on the island. 

Missed you last night, but I hope you got whatever you needed done. I had to leave for my shift, you’re welcome to swing by for your second coffee of the day and your morning kiss ;) have a good day!

Sarah xx

Guilt swooped in over picking old feelings about an ex-almost over her girlfriend, and Beca let her head hang forward, releasing a grown. She was far from an expert at this relationship thing, but she cared about Sarah a lot and didn’t want to mess that up. 

Beca shook off the sleepiness lingering in her bones and the stiffness in her muscles with a long, hot shower, then got ready for her day. She usually got to the office at 8 sharp, but it was already 7:54 by the time she was out the door, and her commute lasted about twenty minutes, so she wouldn’t get the chance to stop by Sarah’s workplace. 

To: Sarah 

I’m sorry, I got caught up in work last night and ended up falling asleep on the couch around 2. Come over tonight? I’ll cook dinner. Have a good shift.

Her morning was spent in the studio canning vocals for girl in red’s new album, a project Beca was stocked about as she was BMLJ’s most promising artist for this year’s Grammy Awards. 

“That was awesome, Marie,” Beca spoke into the microphone, giving her a thumbs-up through the glass. “Let’s take a lunch break and resume in an hour?” 

“Sounds good,” the younger woman agreed with a smile as she took off her headphones. 

Beca headed back to her office down the hall and checked her phone for any new messages (finding none important), before shrugging on her thick winter coat and screwing her beanie over her head. 

“I’ll be back in an hour, Gina!” She told her assistant on route to the elevator. 

As Sarah’s workplace was just five blocks south from the label, Beca figured she would eat lunch there as she wasn’t able to stop by that morning. She stopped in the convenience store across the street from the coffee shop to buy Sarah her favorite magazine as she knew her break was coming up soon and she’d have something to read. 

Beca was scanning the press stand for that specific magazine, not paying attention to the person walking into the store until they spoke. 

“A pack of Marlboro, please.” 

Beca would recognize that voice anywhere. Her head snapped up so fast she felt something in her neck pull, and she was rounding the stand before she even registered giving her feet the order to move. “Chloe?” 

Chloe glanced over to her right and froze for a second, before fishing for a twenty in her jacket pocket and handing it to the cashier. “Are you following me or something?” 

Given their last encounter, Beca wasn’t surprised by Chloe’s snark, so she gave as good as she got. “You came in after I did, so maybe I should ask you that question.” 

Chloe stuffed the cigarette pack and the change into her pocket. “What do you want, Beca?” 

“To talk,” she replied, softly. “One coffee, that’s it. And if you decide you really don’t want me in your life, then I won’t bother you again. I promise.” 

Chloe seemed to ponder on that for a few beats. “One coffee.” 

“There’s a shop right across the street.” 

Taking her to the place her girlfriend worked at? Probably not the brightest idea, but she was afraid Chloe might go back on her decision if they spent too long finding someplace else. 

When Chloe nodded, Beca took the lead and stepped outside, forgetting all about that magazine as she racked her brain about what she should say. Tactfulness wasn’t her greatest suit; Aubrey would be so much better at this. 

They stepped inside Devocion and Beca picked a table in the corner, shrugging off her coat and draping it over the back of her chair. Chloe kept her jacket and beanie on, a bit hunched on herself as she sat down in the chair opposite Beca’s. 

“Beca?” 

Beca glanced towards Sarah as she approached, wearing a waist apron with the café logo on it. Her dark blonde hair was woven back in a French braid, a few strands escaping, and curiosity swirled in her green eyes as they flickered to Chloe. 

Okay, in hindsight, bringing Chloe here was a terrible idea. 

“Hey, um, Sarah, this is Chloe, a friend from college.” She cleared her throat. “Chloe, this is my girlfriend, Sarah.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Sarah replied brightly, her smile fading a little when all Chloe offered was a distant nod. Sarah met Beca’s gaze briefly, clearing her throat. “What can I get you guys?” 

“My usual. You want anything to eat, Chlo?” 

The nickname rolled off her tongue so naturally, Beca didn’t even catch it. 

Chloe shook her head. “Just a black coffee.” 

“Coming right up.” 

“Thanks,” Beca said as Sarah spun around on her heels, her focus shifting to Chloe. “So um, I wanted to apologize for the other day and putting you on the spot at the club. I just… wasn’t sure how else to talk to you.” 

“I can give you some of the money back if you need it.” 

Beca furrowed her brow, not having expected that. “No, no. I… it’s fine. I don’t care about money.” 

Something flashed in Chloe’s eyes at that, something Beca couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

Sarah came back with two coffees before she could analyze it further, setting the mugs down on the table. “Your club sandwich will be here in a few, babe.” 

Beca nodded, casting her a small, appreciative smile. 

Chloe straightened a bit in her seat, cradling the mug with both hands. “I’m not sure what you expect me to say or do, Beca.” 

Beca licked her lips. “I was hoping we could… hang out from time to time. I’ve missed you, Chlo. So has Aubrey.” 

The mention of Aubrey made Chloe lookup. “Does she live in New York, too?” 

“Um no, in Boston. She’s a lawyer. But she’d come down to have coffee, or lunch, or whatever you feel like doing. In a heartbeat.” 

Chloe shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

What little hope flared in the pit of Beca’s belly upon Chloe showing interest in Aubrey’s life vanished. “Why not?” 

“I told you. I’m not the same person anymore. I’m-- I’m not…” 

Beca tilted her head to the side. “You’re not what?” She pressed gently. 

Chloe’s gaze fleeted out the window as her rather calm demeanor now radiated agitation. Her knee started bouncing and her fingers tightened around the mug, and it was as though Chloe was battling against her own thoughts. 

She was itching to reach across the table to rest her hand over her wrist in a sort of grounding gesture, but something told her that would have the opposite effect. 

“Chloe?” Beca attempted once more, her voice as soft as she could muster, as it seemed like Chloe was on the brink of bolting. 

The tear slipping out of Chloe’s eye tore her heart into two. “I-I have to go.” 

Her chair screeched as she pushed it back roughly, and she was nearly out the door by the time Beca scrambled to her feet. 

It was lunch-hour rush in one of the busiest avenues in Manhattan, and Chloe had already disappeared in the crowd when she reached the exit, leaving Beca to helplessly wonder how someone like Chloe, once the epitome of sunshine, got herself trapped in so much darkness.

[mellifluoushood]

Into The Dark - C.H. AU [Chapter 2]

A/N: It’s chapter 2 already! After having a conversation with @calumscalm​, I got inspired, again. I was originally gonna leave this at 2.5k words, but then Nads and I got talking and then it ended up being 5k so hahahahaha, whoops. And a very special thank you (and CREDIT) to @ammwritings​ for making this mood board for the series! I absolutely adore it. xx Synopsis: Full-time college student, Seraphina Sallow, works as a receptionist for world-famous tattoo artist, Calum Hood. Their friendship blossomed when she wrote an article about his tattoo parlour, Fallen Angel Tattoos, for a journalism project at school. Since then, she’s been working as a receptionist at his parlour to put herself through school. As college tuition increases and her social security checks get smaller, she’s beginning to struggle to keep up with her payments. And then, a fallen angel shows up in the parlour, offering her the solution to all of her problems. But, at what cost? (TEASER) (CHAP. 1) Genre (this chapter is): angst / fluff / smut / normal Warning: heavy mentions of drug use and selling, strong language, weapons (firearms), some suicidal thinking, vomitting Taglist: @calumscalm​ @gigglyirwin​ @ammwritings​ @loveroflrh​ @dukehoods​ @toofadedtofight​ @babylon-corgis​ @talkfastromance4​ @thesubtweeter​ @vipclifford​ @spicycal​ @cals-wildflower​

“I’ll walk her home, Cal,” Michael states, grabbing his jacket from the back of his bar stool. It was closing, the ceiling lights were being flicked on and the music was switched off. 

“No, I’ve got it,” Calum grabs his own jacket, not even looking at Seraphina. Her gaze drifts between the two men, one a lot more intoxicated than the other. She always felt safe with Calum, but there was something about his stature tonight that lit her stomach with unease. She wanted to explain it away because her situation earlier, that she was naturally on edge, but his silence throughout the night did nothing to calm her.

“You’ve had like, eight or nine glasses of whiskey, Cal. I can get it-”

“-I’m walking her home,” Calum states, turning to look at Michael. His eyes are daring Michael to challenge him, to try and argue with him about who walks her home. Michael looks over Calum’s shoulder at Seraphina, to check on her, but she’s looking at her shoes. He looks up at Calum again before sighing, giving him a pat on the shoulder goodbye. Calum watches as Michael walks around him and hugs Seraphina. He bends down, his taller frame towering over her’s,

“You okay with him?” He asks, close enough to her ear that only she can hear his question.

“I’ll be fine, Mikey, thank you,” she looks up at him. The exhaustion on her features is prevalent. The lids of her eyes are hooded, complimented by dark circles underneath them. Her posture is no longer stiff, but slouched and lethargic, “I just want to go home.”

Michael nods at her before leaving the bar, leaving Calum and Seraphina, standing in silence. He doesn’t even look at her before heading for the entrance, his Docs clabbering against the wooden floor of Steve’s. His leather jacket squeaks as he heads out the door. She sighs, rubbing a hand down her face before following him.

He’s standing against the brick wall, lighting a cigarette. He holds the pack out to her, where she fumbles to take one. When she does, he hands her the lighter without saying anything. She sparks the lighter, bringing the flame up to the cigarette, taking a breath. The cigarette lights and she hands the lighter back to Calum before beginning to walk in the direction of her house. Her decision to leave her car for her to collect in the morning was a smart one, weed and alcohol swimming through her bloodstream and Calum was too drunk to drive it for her.

The beginning of the walk is silent. Calum’s boots thud against the sidewalk as Seraphina shuffles along next to him, sucking on her cigarette with intensity. She can feel the beginning of the nicotine buzz in her system, her head going slightly fuzzy. She doesn’t look at Calum, knowing his silence will only last for so long. She looks down at the walkway under her feet, counting the cracks in the pavement and stepping over the seams.

“Where were you tonight?” Calum cuts straight to the point, his voice void of emotion. She looks up at him. His gauges and nose ring twinkle under the street lights. When he looks down at her, his eyes are stone cold. They stare right through her act and down to the very being of her soul. She shies away from his eyes, looking back down at the sidewalk.

“As I said, I had plans.”

“What plans?” He scoffs, finishing off his cigarette before tossing the butt in a storm drain. He turns to look at her again, “Where were you?” She can smell the whiskey lingering on his tongue and inner cheeks. The stench of alcohol is one she smells on Calum once a week, but this time, it smells different. It smells dangerous.

“I had plans,” she shrugs, “It’s none of your business.”

“It’s my business if you’re doing stupid, Seraphina,” he uses her full name and it almost makes her stop in tracks. But she keeps walking, attempting to build her exterior walls higher than Calum would ever be able to see over. She had to protect him. She wanted to protect him more than she wanted to protect herself.

“I had plans, Calum. Drop it,” she snaps at him, his prodding getting dangerously close to the topic she so desperately wanted to avoid.

“Plans where you come back, completely dishevelled, after being vague about your plans and not answering your phone for two hours. Okay, those kinds of plans,” Calum begins to slur his words at the end, antagonising her. He’s poking at the weak spots in her walls she’s ferociously building up, trying to get her to crumble in any way. She doesn’t budge.

“Honestly, Calum, it’s none of your fucking business.” She stops walking, looking up at him. She’s a few feet from her apartment building, but the anger beginning to swim through her blood is keeping her feet from moving. 

“It’s my fucking business when there’s a gun in your fucking pocket,” he seethes. He points to the Glock that she hadn’t tried to conceal on her walk home, “Because I know that’s not fucking legal.” Her fingers fumble to move her oversized shirt to cover the bulge on her hip. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Fuck off, Seraphina. Why do you have a fucking gun in your pocket?” He’s angry. He can feel the anger seeping out of his ears like steam. His heart is pounding out of his chest, his pulse beginning to speed up at the adrenaline starting to course its way through his system. The whiskey makes the corner of his vision blurry, but his anger only intensifies his tunnel vision. He steps close to her, only a few inches from their chests touching. She’s quiet, staring up at him, defying his questions, daring him to continue just the way he had dared Michael to defy him, “I’m going to ask one more time. Why is there a gun in your fucking pocket?”

“You can ask all you want,” she says through gritted teeth, “You’re not getting an answer because I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Calum mutters, shaking his head and bitterly chuckling at her answer, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, he turns on his heel and leaves. He heads back for the bar, hoping to catch a cab. The anger causes his head to pound, but as he walks away, just like he did earlier, the anger dissipates and he wonders to himself if he’s making the right decision by walking away. His question is answered when he turns around to see if she had gotten inside okay.

She’s sitting on her doorstep, unmoving. Her face is covered by her hands, hair tucked behind her ears. He notices the way the piercings on her cartilage sparkle. He can’t hear her, he’s too far away and his hearing is shot from the amount of alcohol in his system. He furrows his brows, turning around and walking back to her. As he gets closer, he notices her chest heaving. He begins to hear her whimpers of cries and the sound of her sniffling. She hears his boots approaching, quickly wiping at the tears on her cheeks and looking up at him,

“What, Calum?” Her voice bites at him, “What do you want?” She has a scowl on her delicate features and Calum frowns.

“I want to help you,” he says, his tone gentle for the first time all night. She shakes her head, 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she instinctually sniffles from her tears earlier, “There’s nothing to help with.”

“Okay,” Calum drags out, looking down at her. Her brown eyes meet his and she has the same look in her eyes when she saw that text message earlier in the night. His eyes flick from her left to her right, trying to decipher what the emotion was, but he had never seen it on her before. His mind swims with alcohol and questions, “I’m going to sit here with you until you feel like going inside. You don’t have to tell me anything, you don’t even have to speak to me, but I’m here, okay?” His words jumble together, his intoxication leaking over his lips and mixing with the need for sleep that pulled at his shoulders. She doesn’t respond before he’s collapsing next to her on the concrete stoop and sitting close to her. 

He can smell her perfume and shampoo. Her shampoo smells like lavender, she showers every night before bed because the scent of her shampoo makes her sleepy. He remembers asking her why she always smelt like lavender when she came into work one morning. Her perfume varies on the day. He’s identified around seven scents and he can distinguish which one they are based on her mood. Daisy by Marc Jacobs is her simply unbothered mood, Gucci’s Guilty Absolute Pour Femme when she was feeling particularly creative, Black Opium by Yves Saint Laurent when she was feeling a bit down, and the list goes on. She always smelt luxurious, hints of deeper scents, notes that would be found in men’s cologne but are mixed with typical notes in women’s perfume. It suited her - it was not bright.

She looks up at Calum, her eyes red-rimmed with tears instead of her high, wondering what the fuck was going on with him. He had been pestering her, questioning every move she’s made since she left the parlour earlier, but his fluctuating attitudes and simple assholery sent her into a near spiral. The last thing she needed right now was for Calum to turn on her. Calum, one of her good friends, who’s been there for her more than she’s willing to admit. And she can’t bring herself to drag him into another situation, especially one she had put herself in. She knows his past, he knows the world he was involved in before he invested in the parlour. She couldn’t bear to bring him back there, not when she had willingly made the choice to contact Roy.

Calum looks down at her, not speaking, just as he said. He was there, simply if she needed someone. She notices the way his brows have furrowed, not angry, but with concern and worry as he tries to figure out what’s wrong with her. She watches as he takes in her appearance, looking for any sign of what she’s gotten herself into besides the gun stuffed in her waistband.

“Do you... do you wanna stay the night?” She asks, noting his bleary eyes and tired stature.

“Only if you’re okay with it.” She nods, standing up from her place on the stoop, dusting off her shorts and turning to unlock her door. He waits until the door is unlocked and the door is open before he stumbles to his feet and trudges in the front door. 

“Bed or sofa?”

“Whichever,” she shrugs, walking into her bedroom before he makes up his mind. He stands in the doorway, shutting the door behind him. She takes the time to stash the gun in her pocket in her nightstand. Her fingers wrap around the grip, pulling it out and examining it. It’s heavier than she ever thought a gun would be. It weighs down her arm, straining the muscles in her triceps to keep it level. She takes a shaky breath, looking back at the open bedroom door, checking for Calum and raises it. She doesn’t take off the safety but simply gets used to the feeling of holding it. She adjusts her hips and shoulders, just like she had seen in every action movie ever, closing one eye and seeing what the aim should look like. Her spine tingles with promises she had made to herself to never own a firearm and her palms begin to sweat. She takes another breath, opening the nightstand and placing the gun over a few notebooks she had stored there. She closes it and turns around to the door. It’s still empty. 

She sighs and grabs a spare pillow from her bed and stops at the closet in the hall, grabbing a comforter for Calum. When she emerges, she finds him in the kitchen nursing a glass of water. He hears her footsteps and looks up, eyes flickering to where the gun had been all night. He notes its disappearance. She looks at him. The one light in the kitchen illuminates the sleeves of tattoos that decorate both arms, shading and line work immaculate. Decorated with swirls, patterns and flowers, the tattoos curl their way up past the hem of his t-shirt and to his neck, chest and back. She’s seen the chest and back tattoos a few times in the accidental slip of walking into the parlour when he’s pulling off his jumper and his shirt underneath rides up. She knows he has one massive piece on his back that took hours because he had complained about it after he had it done. That was only a week after she had started working at Fallen Angel. She looks down at her feet without saying anything to Calum and puts the pillow and comforter on the sofa.

“I’ll be in my room if you need anything,” she mutters, collecting a glass of water for herself, not saying another word to Calum. He watches her move around the kitchen. Her shoulders are slumped and the dark circles underneath her eyes are more prevalent than earlier. She looks defeated, whether it was from her argument with Calum or what she had been up to earlier in the evening was unclear to him. He wanted to ask, he really did, but knew he shouldn’t press her. Not right now.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers as she walks out of the kitchen. She turns around to look at him for a split second, her eyes sad. She shakes her head,

“It’s fine, Calum. There’s nothing you can do.”

She walks into her bedroom, shutting the door before Calum can ask her what she means by that. He looks down at the glass of water, his hand loosely grasping the base and he has to resist the urge to hurl it at the wall. He wants to help, that’s why he came back. That’s why he turned around and sat on those steps and waited. He wants her to tell him what’s going on. His blood alcohol only intensifies those feelings, blood pumping at the small flick of anger that originally started in his chest and begins to consume his head. But he knows her, and he knows her past, and the only way for her to open up to him is when he’s calm.

He sighs, finishing the water and placing the glass in the sink before padding over to the sofa and beginning to undress. He unbuckles his belt, the metal clanking against each other before he pushes the hem down his waist. His lower half is covered in briefs, tattoos on his thighs peeking out from underneath the black fabric. He strips off his socks, sitting on the couch. He shrugs off his leather jacket, piling it on top of his jeans and removes his t-shirt. He tosses the shirt on the pile of clothing before reaching behind him for the pillow. He tucks it behind his head as he lays down on the sofa, forgetting about the comforter for a moment. With one hand behind his head, he stares at her ceiling.

Before his thoughts get far, he begins to hear music emerge from the crack of her door and through the thin walls of her house. He frowns, struggling to hear the lyrics of the song. As if she can read his mind, she turns up the music, emphasising the words coming out of her speaker. The guitar lick and kick drum sound vaguely familiar, before a raspy female voice comes in again. She had the song on repeat. He recognises the song as 'You should be sad' by Halsey and his heart aches for her. The few times he’s heard this song is when she was so upset at the parlour that he gave her control of the playlist for the day. It was songs similar to this that occupied the speakers all day, but she always seemed to appreciate this one the most. He would always see her sitting at the front desk, foot against the desk and leaning back in her chair, staring far away. He never asked about it.

So, he pulls the duvet from the edge of the sofa and over himself, turning onto his side and drifting off into an alcohol-aided sleep.

She sits on her bed, lamp switched on, staring at the wall in front of her. Her eyes glaze over, the song background music to the hurricane occurring inside of her. Her mind thinks to the drugs stuffed under the floorboard next to her dresser. She thinks about the little baggies sitting in her purse. She thinks about the gun stuffed in the nightstand right next to her. She wonders if there was an intruder if he would find the gun, and kill her in her sleep. A small part of her wishes it would happen. The university payments stacking up and the dwindling checks from the U.S. Federal government as if to say they’re sorry that her parents were murdered wouldn’t matter anymore. The fact they were murdered only a few feet from her very house, only a few doorways down, wouldn’t matter. She thinks about the few friends she has lingering in her life. She thinks about all of the men that have fucked her over, literally and metaphorically. She thinks about everything that has gone wrong in her life, her mind spiralling out of control as loses track of where the train of thought even started. The drugs. The thing that is supposed to help her out of her financial hole, but the feeling in her gut tells her something different. 

Her stomach begins to gurgle, tossing and turning the few drinks she had at the bar. She blinks for the first time in what feels like hours, looking up at the ceiling and pushing down the bile that begins rising in her throat. She swallows, but her mouth begins to fill with saliva. She all but runs to the bathroom in the hallway, busting open the door and emptying the few drinks of her stomach into the toilet. She absentmindedly feels for the edge of the open door, pushing it shut so Calum couldn’t hear her retching into the toilet. She coughs, gagging on nothing and sucking down as much air as she can. Tears prick at the corner of her eyes, her arms finding their way around the seat of the toilet. She rests her head on her bicep, facing towards the toilet she had just gotten sick into. She thinks of waking Calum, what he might ask, what he might find out and it sends another wave of nausea bubbling out of her mouth and spilling into the toilet. 

She hears a knock on the bathroom door,

“No, don’t come in,” her voice is weak, straining against her acidic throat. Calum doesn’t listen as he pushes open the door, looking at Seraphina, kneeling over the toilet,

“You never fucking listen to me,” she sighs, shutting her eyes and reaching up to flush her sick down the toilet. Calum exhales loudly, shutting the door behind him. He sits against the door, so he’s at her level,

“Are you okay?”

She chokes back a bitter laugh, not wanting the movement of her muscles to stir up another fit of vomit. She just shakes her head, eyes still closed,

“I’m fine. Just go back to bed.”

“Seraphina,” he huffs, “I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m not going anywhere.”

“I think you’re a guy who walks away whenever he gets angry. I think you’re a guy who wants to help others, not for them, but because it makes you feel better about yourself,” she snaps. Her words are meaningless to her the moment she spews them out of her mouth, but she can’t bring herself to open her eyes and apologise, “Just... leave me alone.”

“You’re not like this,” Calum shakes his head, ignoring the feeling of his heart beginning to crack at the seams at her unkind words. He licks at his lips, eyes focused on the woman who’s still curled up around the toilet bowl.

The tone of his voice awakens something in her own chest and she opens her eyes, looking at the man in front of her, “I...”

“I know, ‘phina, I know,” he soothes, crawling closer to her. He begins to stroke her back, the tears that were pricking at her eyes spilling over her cheeks. He stops her apology before she can say it, knowing it’ll start a crying fit, but it looks inevitable now. She was going to cry, no matter what he did. So, he sits there, stroking the smooth skin of her back underneath her t-shirt. The tears start trickling down her cheeks, the warmth of the drops seemingly burning her skin in their path. Her breathing becomes laboured, her cheeks turning a pink as she sits and cries into the toilet.

“C’mon, let’s get you into bed,” Calum soothes, standing up from the floor. He crouches over and places an arm around Seraphina’s waist and helps her up. The soothing touch of his palms keeps her from another fit of tears, instead calming the anxiety in her chest, replacing another inkling of a feeling in her heart. She looks up at Calum, eyes still stained with tears, streaks dripping on her cheeks. She offers him a tight-lipped smile. Calum returns it, using his free hand to cup her jaw. He uses his thumb to wipe the stains from her olive skin, admiring the small freckles that are speckled across her nose and the blush of her cheeks. It’s sad, but she looks beautiful when she cries, at least to Calum. He hesitates slightly, before leaning forward and pressing his lips to her hairline. Her baby hairs tickle his upper lip, the frizz of her curls brushing along his jaw. She closes her eyes at the touch, basking in the feeling of safety, of protection that Calum has always seemed to provide, but in this moment, he exudes it. Safety.

She’s always liked that about Calum. After breaking through his stone-cold exterior, she noticed sides of him that seemed so stereotypical of a guy like him, but she adored nonetheless. She’s noticed the way his eyes crinkle with a smile when he sees his mother’s name pop up on the screen of his phone. She’s watched as he texts his sister daily updates, whether it was about a client or just how he was feeling. She’s watched as he’s stood up for her when a drunken man gets a little too close in the bar even though she’s more than capable of taking care of herself. She would always chastise him for that, even though he insisted he knew she would be just fine without him. But, he would do anything for the people he cared for, and that’s something she admired about Calum. His heart. She admired his willingness to stand up for anyone, no matter his feelings towards them, and his loyalty to those who meant most to him. That’s what made him so successful before the parlour - his loyalty. His nights spent behind bars, lips shut as he waited to be bailed out. 

She places a hand to his chest, pushing him back slightly. Without words, she turns to the sink and brushes her teeth. Calum’s arm remains in proximity of her, his hand drifting down to the sides of her waist as she runs her toothbrush under the sink. Her stomach begins to flutter, in a good way, when his thumb starts caressing the skin of her hip underneath her shirt. She looks up at him in the mirror, and he’s already looking down at her. She can’t read the look in his eyes, but there’s something softer, kinder about the way he’s looking at her. She notices the smile lines by his eyes and the sunburn that lightly dusts his cheeks from his days off, sitting out in the sun. She looks away, spitting into the sink and wiping her mouth. She lets him guide her into her room.

He notices the immaculate state of her room. The walls she painted grey herself, even after Calum insisted on helping her, reflected nicely in the faint light coming from her bedside lamp. She had painted her dresser and nightstands black, changing the handles to silver. She’s hung up fairy lights along the crown moulding of her room, shining down on different arrays and shapes of Polaroids. Each wall had a different shape made from Polaroids. One wall held a square, a circle, a rectangle and a triangle. He would’ve figured a heart would be more artistic and heartfelt, but he’s learned the only place she voices her emotions is in her music taste and the tattered black journal she brings to every one of her Creative Writing lectures.

He helps her over to her side of the bed, pulling back the comforter that she had been sitting on earlier and letting her slide in. She rests her head against her pillow, eyes looking up at Calum as he focuses on pulling the blanket up to her shoulders. Their eyes meet and he gives her a tired smile, his own eyes starting to show shadows underneath them.

“Goodnight, Seraphina,” he sighs, hesitating once more before leaning down again and placing one last kiss on her forehead. She looks up at him as he does, trying to memorise each detail of him so close. The scruff that trails along his jaw, the birthmarks on his cheek, the exact placement of his nose ring, the small hairs straying from his eyebrows, the length of his eyelashes. Everything she can commit to memory.

When he pulls away, he turns away without looking at her face, afraid of what might be written on it. With his back turned, he can barely hear her whisper,

“Can you stay here? With me?” He stops in his tracks, turning and looking at Seraphina who’s eyes gleam up at him. And he finds himself nodding and sliding into bed before the nerves of laying next to her set in. He lays underneath the covers, beginning to feel the traces of her body heat radiating into the linens. He tries to calm the increase of his heartbeat, looking up at the ceiling. He can feel her turn next to him,

“Can you,” she exhales shakily, “hold me?” Calum looks down at her, similarly to the way he had when she had asked her first question. Instead of answering, he turns on his side and uses his hand to hold her hip and pull her towards him. She immediately tucks her head into his tattooed chest, her own heart rate pounding against her chest, her stomach erupting with flames that dance along the bottom of her ribcage. But, she can feel the same safe feeling wash over every limb, settling her every muscle. She cautiously wraps her own arm around Calum’s midsection, which he seems to welcome. She presses her hand to his bare back, palm flat against his spine. His arm wraps around her back, his large fingers clutching to her other hip, holding her flat against him. Their hearts beat rapidly, but in sync.

“Goodnight, Calum,” she whispers, her eyelashes tickling his chest as she closes her eyes.

He exhales shakily, “Goodnight, ‘phina.”

[futurewriter2000]

Changing Titles ~ Pt. 7

A/N: WOOOOOH! Gotta say I was looking for a good cliffhanger to leave it on and I really like this one. Got me a bit hyped. I wasn’t planning on writing anything but I felt this need of doing something for my relaxation so let’s just hope you like it like I like it.

XX

He was back. Your brother, James, he was back.

It was like everything became right but wrong at the same time.

He was always beside you, always walking you to your class no matter how far he was from his own. He was a real gentleman, a real brother.

At first, you thought it might have been the guilt that was eating him from the inside out but later on, you realized that it wasn’t that. He still loved to pick on you, to joke around with you, to be a meaner older brother that he was when the two of you were kids. But he also more around, always there to sit with you, to ask you how are you or how was your day, to bring you closer to his friends, to get along with your own friends. He was really trying to be a better brother and that made you so happy again.

He confided in you as well. The way his eyes had this gorgeous light in them the way he spoke about Lily Evans. He became so different, so shy when he spoke about her.

But there was still one problem. Your Dark Mark.

How could you tell him that the Dark Lord chose you to be his follower? HOw could tell your own brother who has been trying so hard to make everything right between the two of you that you felt this odd connection with the darkest wizards this century?

If it was like yesterday, you could see his bloody red eyes, slits as pupils like the snake that he was. You could see his long pale fingers taking your sleeve up, you could feel his cold touch and his cold, dead tone of a voice-

“ Oi! Tiny!” a voice broke you from any deeper thoughts.

You looked up at the boy who was walking towards you with his friends, a gorgeous beam on his lips. Unconsciously you grabbed the edge of your sleeve and pulled it down. “ Hi.” you smiled and closed the book that was open in your lap.

“ Whatchu got there?” he asked, grabbing the book from your lap. “ Advanced Potions?” he furrowed his eyebrows at you and grinned. “ Really?”

“ If you must know, big bro, is that I have a test coming and need to get an Outstanding grade.” you lifted your chin and grabbed the book from his lap.

“ Where’s your usual partner in crime?” said Sirius who sat beside you, wrapping an arm around you.

You looked at the hand on your shoulder than later at him.

“ Oi! Mate!” James warned him but Sirius only smiled wider.

“ Don’t worry, Prongs. I’m not after your little sister. Just teasing her a bit.” he winked and you only shot him an eye roll, taking his hand off your shoulder and throwing it at him.

“ Go tease the girls who actually don’t know what a prick you are.” you gave him a fake smile before standing up and grabbing your things. “ Gotta go shower but I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“ Alright but answer me this.” James looked up from his armchair at you while you stopped next to him.

“ Yeah, What?”

“ Why are you still wearing long sleeves. It’s hot in here?” he grabbed your left arm and tried to pull you back but with every muscle in your body, you ripped your arm away from him and stepped back.

Everybody was now looking at you with wide eyes, James especially. “ Uhm...I’m waiting for my scars to heal.” you grabbed your arm by the elbow and backed away.

“ You sure?” James started to get suspicious, his eyes narrowing at you.

“ Yeah- uhm- see you guys tomorrow. Night.” you mumbled out and waved at Peter and Remus who were both on the sofa opposite of you. Though you could have sworn Remus’ eyes were looking at you differently from all of his friends’.

---

You’ve showered and you pulled the oversized sweater of your brother ’s, covering the dark mark and tugging the left sleeve more down. Finally walking out of the shower you saw Chilli reading her book on her bed. She glanced up at you and smiled.

“ You look adorable in his sweater but tell me again how on earth are you not sweating in that when you sleep?” she closed the book and sat up.

“ Oh, trust me. I am.” you chuckled and made your way towards the bed, sitting beside her.

“ Then why do you -”

“ We’re best friends, right?” you cut in, glancing away for a moment then back at her brown eyes.

“ Yeah. Of course.” she knotted her eyebrows and looked at you with a puzzled expression on her face. “ Why would you ask me that?” she smiled, yet her eyes showed that she was more serious than she intended to be.

“ Uhm...well...” you mumbled, fidgeting your fingers and tugging your sleeves down. “ Dumbledore told me that it’s better that nobody knows this and that I should just say I don’t remember anything about what happened to me but you’re like a sister to me and-” you felt something cut your throat and take your voice away. Tears shed from your eyes and you couldn’t even look at her.

She immediately wrapped you in her arms and kept the hug tight. “ Shhh. It’s alright. You can trust me.”

“ I-I-” your voice started to shake and you could barely see through the fat tears that kept gathering in your eyes and falling down your cheeks. “ I woke up in this dark room. I-I-I don’t know where exactly, all I remember that it was dark and that there were two people there. “ you sobbed and she took your hands in hers and squeezed them tightly. “ I-I don’t remember how I got there, I don’t remember what I was doing that day at all just...he was there- you-you know...” you tried to tell her but her eyes were only filled with worry.

“ Who was there?”

“ The Dark Lord a-and some guy. I- I don’t know. He was older and I couldn’t recognize him.” you shook your head. “ And he offered me a deal. You know- the -”

“ The Dark Lord.” she finished.” What deal?”

“ He said that if I become his follower that he would let me go. A-a-and if I don’t he’ll kill me and every single soul I ever made contact with.” more tears now fell down your cheeks and you felt her hold soften a bit.

“ (Y/n)...” she spoke softly, putting one hand on her mouth before letting a quiet sob.

“ I was scared and-and I thought of mum and dad, of you, of James, of-of everybody and I-I didn’t know what else to do.” you sobbed and threw your head in your hands.

“ (y/n), don’t tell me you’ve.”

“ I’ve agreed to take the deal.” you looked at her through your swollen eyes and showed her the Dark Mark.

Chilli gasped when her eyes met your forearm, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“ I couldn’t let him hurt you. I have to follow him. I have to say everything he does or he’ll kill all of you.” you cried. “ And I knew he wasn’t lying. He was determined about everything. I could see it in his eyes, the-the disappointment when I said yes. Bu-but when I said yes, I feel I’ve just ended someone else’s family. The lust of killing someone, it didn’t disappear. He went for someone else.”

Chilli kept quiet yet even though no word came out of her mouth, she threw herself in your embrace, hugging you as tightly as possible. You sobbed on her shoulder yet not because anything related to what you have just said but because she was still here, with you and not running away, and hiding.

She pulled away and cupped your cheeks immediately. “ You and me, Potter. We’re the it, the power duo. We’re Equals and as long as you live, I live. If you die, I die. I’ll walk beside you towards Heaven or Hell but I’ll never, ever let you go through something like this alone.”

---

It felt so liberating telling your secret. It felt lighter, showing something the darkest part of you.

Yet, still, there was guilt when he was around. When your brother confided in you when he told you about Remus’ furry little problem when he decided to tell you about his Animagnus or any secret he held inside of him.

How could you tell him? - You simply couldn’t.

---

James graduated, he has gotten himself the apartment and he was in the Order.

He protested, of course, he protested, saying he wouldn’t want you involved in this but if he only knew, you already were.

Chilli and you both got through a shit ton of pain and torture together. Mastering Occlumency, having hours and hours of Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, training to be double spies. However, the only thing you really held against Chilli was that she made herself a Death Eater as well.

* flashback *

“ I NEVER WANTED YOU TO GO THIS FAR! I NEVER WANTED YOU TO BECOME ONE!” you bellowed outside the Shrieking Shack.

“ I’VE TOLD YOU, I’LL WALK BESIDE YOU TOWARDS HEAVEN OR HELL! WE’RE EQUALS!” she bellowed back, her wand at her side as well as yours.

“ NO! WE’RE NOT!”

“ WELL, WE MIGHT AS WELL BECOME ONE!” she shouted and you stared at her. “We’ve been through thick and thin, (y/n). Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe we should really be marked as Equals? Come to think of it, don’t you think he- The Dark Lord- would want to turn us against each other but not if we get marked as Equals, not if you and I make a vow to never hurt each other.”

“ What?”

“ Besides Snape, you’re his favorite. He knows you’re a great witch. Pureblood, daring, cunning,...You’re everything he seeks in a wizard. “

“ So what? He wouldn’t care about me or my life.”

“ Yes but he trusts you. He knows you’ll obey, he knows you won’t stand down.” she continued, coming closer to you and taking your hands. “ He thinks he has you wrapped around his little finger but what he doesn’t realize it’s the other way around.”

*end of flashback*

So, the two of you were marked as Equals. The two of you weren’t separated on the missions, only on special occasions.

And nobody knew. Nobody knew except the two of you and Dumbledore.

“ Think of the most beautiful memory. The memory that you know would be the first and the last when the world turns dark.” his gentle voice echoed in the office and both of you with Chilli exchanged looks.

“ If I get it first, you’ll buy me a round at Three Broomsticks.” she smirked and you laughed.

“ It’s on Gonalez.” you smirked as well and was prepared to cast.

‘ After he finished putting on your tights, he turned to the wardrobe to get your dress but when he turned around, he stopped at the sight of your top. You were wearing your pink top with a golden snitch sewed on it. He smiled and shook his head. “ Why are you wearing that?”

You looked down at your top and beamed. “ Because you have the same one.” ‘

“ EXPECTO PATRONUS!” you shouted on top of your lungs and a silver light emerged from a tip of your wand.

There was some struggling to figure out the shape of it but it soon started to run on its four legs until it stopped to show its beautiful horns and majestic body.

“ Oh, my god. It’s a stag.” Chilli laughed and looked at you. “ Just like-”

“ James’ Animagnus.” you mumbled to yourself, smiling.

---

But the day had to come.

“ Boop.” you booped his tiny nose and he giggled. “ Where’s your nose?” you cooed to him, booping it again. “Boop. There it is.” you smiled at the 1-year-old and making him laugh.

“ You make such a great aunt.” said James who was sitting on the sofa, writing down some documents and looking up at you.

“ And to think, I used to hate you.” smiled Lily, placing a cup of tea to the coffee table beside you.

“ Same.” you chuckled and picked little Harry in your arms and lifting him up. “ He is just so adorable.” you hugged him and he giggled in your embrace. “ I just want to stay like this forever.” you rocked him left and right, his little black head pressed against your chest.

“ I’d ask you if you felt the same during his night-time.” Lily yawned and sat beside James, running her fingers through the side of his hair.

“ Believe it or not, I think he gets that from her. She was a cranky sleeper.” he glanced at you, smirking.

“ That’s because you were around.” you retorded back and Lily laughed.

“ You’re out of toilet paper.” said Sirius as he walked in the living room and stopped at the sight of you sitting on the floor and rocking baby Harry in your arms. He didn’t know whether to say something or keep quiet.

Because there you were, rocking him, smiling at the little boy, his Godson and you had this beautiful glow.

“ Again?” James groaned. “ Are you eating it, Pads because I swear it’s always out whenever you come to visit.”

“ Which is every day.” Lilly rolled her eyes and Sirius laughed.

“ What can I say. I drink a lot of water.” he shrugged and sat on the armchair, which gave a great view of you and the little toddler. “ So, how is the little guy?” he nodded at you and you smiled.

“ Well, I think he’s asleep but knowing he’s my nephew I feel like he’s just acting.” you looked down at his tiny fingers as they were still in his mouth.

“ Yeah, I remember when you used to do that.” James laughed and walked over to look at his son. “ He’s asleep. Just like his aunt, he puts his hand to his mouth when he falls asleep.”

“ Okay then.” you whispered and slowly got up the floor. “ I’ll just take him to his crib.”

When you gently put him down, you put a blanket over him and booped his nose one more time, gently. “ Night, Tiny.” you smiled and made your way back to the living room, yet surprised to see your best friend, Remus, and Dumbledore in the same room.

“ (y/n).” James looked at you, holding sobbing Lily in his arms.

“ What’s going on?”

“ We need to leave, now!” Chilli ordered while Lily shot from James embrace.

“ Wait! Where are the two of you going?”

“ What’s going on?” you asked when Chilly grabbed you by the wrist and tried to disapparate.

“ You either tell him now or he’ll find out when he calls us.” Chilli whispered, her glare serious as ever.

“ Find out what?” both Remus and Sirius looked at the two of you.

“ What?” James glanced at his friends and you. “ (Y/n)? Is there something you’re hiding from me?”

“ (y/n), you’re wearing short sleeves, the moment he calls us the charm will break and it will show. We have to go. Now.” she whispered more quietly yet still aggressively.

But it was too late. The area on your forearm burnt as well as on Chilli’s. She let go of you immediately, taking a hold of her own forearm. “ Let’s go! Now!” she shouted and you took one last glance at your brother, his eyes on your arm, his heart sinking deeper into his stomach.

“ Tiny?”

And you were gone.