#i got so excited i suddenly got a stomachache and headache at the same time you cantdo this to me

[st4rstudent]

Winn and the gang the gathered: Can you please answer our questions?

Mac:

*Suit not included.

**I swear I am writing the finale of thinking outside the box, just give me a moment.

[digitaldiarystuff]

Our Secret Pt.2

sooo i’m starting to write before the poll is over hope the result stays the same lol

also thank you for not giving up on me💕

you can read part one here

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pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Y/N x Fermin Lopez

summary: you are Pedri’s girlfriend and know his friends, one of them being Fermin. It doesn’t look like he likes you very much but what if he likes you too much?

genre: angst

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That night after Fermin dropped you at your place you had a weird feeling in your stomach you couldn’t quite place, you didn’t do anything wrong, you kept reminding yourself. Fermin is literally Pedri’s friend, he was just doing you a favor and you’re mad at Pedri because he left you alone, that’s it.

After taking a much needed shower to clear your thoughts you laid on your bed hoping to sleep quickly but unfortunately, you weren’t that lucky and had trouble falling asleep. You felt upset about Pedri’s behavior at the party and suddenly realized all the other times he made you feel uneasy in public, there were times he didn’t feel comfortable being seen with you because you weren’t official yet and that’s understandable given the fact that he’s insanely famous but a part of you felt like you shouldn’t be hidden no matter what. The more you thought about it, the sadder you felt but finally, you felt your eyes closing.

The next morning you woke up a little late and with a headache, great, you thought. You found your phone in between your sheets and looked at missed notifications secretly hoping to see a good morning text from Pedri but there was something else. An unsaved number texted you at 8.32 am

Hey, good morning! Hope you’re okay and don’t have a headache or stomachache, I think eating McDonald’s that late was a mistake 😅

You immediately realized it was Fermin and your heart warmed with his thoughtful words, he didn’t have to text you or check up on you but still did it while your boyfriend couldn’t even bother asking if you went home okay. It’s not like he was asleep because you knew for a fact he had practice this morning so he had to be up. You decided not to let it get to you and started typing.

Hey thank you so much for everything, I don’t know how I’d survive last night without you! And yes the nuggets definitely were a mistake lol, hope you’re okay too

You reread the text trying to make sure it’s not weird but why would it be weird, it’s just two friends checking up on each other even though you didn’t even know he had your number before today. He could’ve easily got it from Pedri, right?

Fermin didn’t text you back after that and you thought maybe it’s for the best but you also didn’t hear from Pedri until well into the afternoon when he called.

“Hey” he smiled softly like he wasn’t black out drunk last night

“Hey” you said with slight coldness in your voice but you weren’t doing it on purpose.

“Are we still on for tonight?” he asked without even mentioning anything about the previous night’s events and you were kind of taken aback.

“What’s tonight?”

“We have that charity event, remember, I told you a week ago.” you suddenly remembered him asking you to accompany him to this fancy event.

At first you were thrilled with the idea thinking this may be the night you make your relationship official but he quickly shut the idea down by telling you he’d pose for the cameras out front and meet up with you once the auction starts. You were less excited now but still said yes and forgot about it all till now.

“Oh yeah, sure we’re still going. How are you planning on going there?”

“The boys and I were thinking about getting a limo, can you take an Uber and meet me there?”

“Do you not want me in the limo?” you asked shocked by how inconsiderate he was being. First he hides you from the world and now he wants you to step in an Uber with a fancy looking dress and ride there alone.

“No of course not, you can come get ready at mine then. I’ll be at the house by five.”

“You know what, I’ll find my own way Pedri. You don’t have to worry about me, not that you care.” you said and ended the call feeling agitated.

He tried calling you a few more times but you didn’t pick up, you even considered turning your phone off and not showing up but wanted to have a nice night with him, maybe this could solve your issues.

You started getting ready for the event, trying on 2 different dresses. One was an off the shoulder black silk maxi dress and the other was a dark red spaghetti strap maxi dress with a wide slit on the side and a corset as a top. You took mirror selfies with both dresses and sent it to your best friend who was on top of your messages app and started on your makeup as you waited for an answer. Your phone pinged not long after and you picked it up expecting it to be Elena but was shocked to see Fermin’s name on the screen. You remembered saving his number in the morning. He sent you a single text.

Definitely the red one

Your cheeks heat up immediately realizing your mistake, you sent the photos to Fermin instead of Elena because he was the last person you texted.

I’m so sorry, it was meant for someone else lol

You wrote back but made a mental note to wear the red dress, maybe it was that much better. You anxiously waited an answer from Fermin but it never came and you felt stupid, did he think you did it on purpose or was he being the cold and stoic Fermin you know again? You felt like you managed to make him open up more and made progress in your friendship and would hate if he went back to being distant. You thought about what can you text him that would make him answer but before you could find something your phone started ringing.

Fermin Lopez

You picked it up slightly nervous.

“Hey”

“Hey, are you not riding with everyone else to the venue?” he asked straight away without even asking how you were.

“No, um, I’ll go straight from my place so…” you drifted off not knowing how to explain why you weren’t going with your boyfriend.

“Are you ready?”

“Well, I’ll probably be ready in 15.” you looked at yourself in the mirror, you had the dress on and your makeup was almost done.

“Okay, I’ll pick you up then.” he suggested but his voice was so neutral you couldn’t understand any emotion behind it.

“What? Fermin you don’t ha…”

“I’m on my way Y/N. I’ll text you once I’m outside.” he said and hung up before you could even reply.

You stood there for a few moments trying to understand what just happened, why was Fermin this interested in how you’ll arrive at the venue or how you’re doing and more importantly, why wasn’t Pedri?

You decided to push these thoughts away and put on your accessories for the night but was a little too slow because Fermin already texted you before you could put everything on. You told him you need 5 more minutes and he was welcome to wait in your living room whilst you finish up and he soon rang the doorbell.

You opened the door revealing Fermin in a suit, this was the first time you’ve seen him this formal and admittedly, he looked nice. Actually he looked so good that you had to tear your eyes away from him but he didn’t look like he noticed, he was too busy looking at your figure with wide eyes. This may be the longest he’s ever looked your way but once you made proper eye contact, he immediately looked away.

“Hi” you smiled and hugged him softly, kissing one of his cheeks. He smiled at you and placed his hand on your waist careful not to put it too low. It felt more like a fancy first date than two friends carpooling to a charity event where your boyfriend was waiting for you and the thought made your stomach turn. There was something about Fermin that you couldn’t understand, he was never inappropriate or weird with you but you couldn’t help but feel something and that something scared the living shit out of you.

“You look amazing, told you this was the best dress.” he shyly said and your cheeks turned red with his compliment, you knew he preferred this dress but it was also your favorite. You didn’t wear it for him.

“So do you.” you replied and it was his turn to have reddened cheeks. He looked down at his shoes and didn’t look back up until you spoke again.

“Let me put on my shoes and we can go.”

You went into your shoe closet and picked out the nude heels you had in mind. They weren’t too high but still elevated your look. You dropped them in front of your door and tried getting in them but struggled because of your dress hugging your body tightly, Fermin soon noticed your uncomfortable state.

“Here, let me help you” he didn’t even let you reply and kneeled down in front of you to help you step into your shoes and buckle them, he did one foot and lightly tapped your calf for you to hold the other one. His one hand on behind your calf steadied you while the other helped you and you were standing so close that you could feel his breath on your exposed leg which made you shiver. You placed one hand on his shoulder and he looked up at you, his eyes were filled with yet another emotion but this time you knew it wasn’t something like sadness or anger, it was pure lust and you hated that you also had the same look on your face.

He slowly rose to his feet but you didn’t let go of his shoulder, you felt glued to him at that moment. Fermin must have felt the same because he stood so close to you that your noses nearly touched and he made no effort to pull back, you knew better you really did, you should’ve taken a step back thank him for helping you and go to the event but Fermin had other plans.

He suddenly closed the gap between you two and pressed his lips onto yours in a hasty manner like he had to do it, he did it so urgently as if he needed you and you couldn’t help but move your lips with his placing your hand on the back of his neck. Your judgement was too clouded to stop as he walked you back into your living room without breaking the kiss, he only stopped when your back hit the wall and a soft moan escaped your lips.

“Fermin” you mewled as he was moving his hands all around your body and on your exposed leg.

He pulled back slightly, your foreheads still touching and both of you panting. His eyes opened for the first time since he kissed you and looked straight into your soul.

“Fermin” you whispered this time not even sure if you were asking him to stop or carry on.

“Y/N, I want this. I want this so fucking much but if you don’t, I can get out of here now and we can pretend this never happened. I’ll never bother you again.” he softly said and you were surprised at how calm he was talking contrary to how passionate he was being mere seconds ago.

You closed your eyes to try to slow your heartbeat down, your whole body was shaking a little. You tried to think but all you could think about was his lips and hands on you.

You stood there for a moment before leaning in again and he happily accepted your advances telling you to jump and you obliged not caring about anything else in the world other than Fermin. He was making you feel that alive.

“God, you’re perfect” he said while carrying you to your room and kissing every inch of skin he could find.

“Just make me feel good” you begged him and he nodded eagerly. He was going to do just that.

[kuroosweakness]

full length mirrors | kuroo tetsurō

welcome to another one of my self-comfort writings :’)) this one focuses on body image, based on real experiences 

keywords: shopping date, frozen yogurt, kinda fluff? kuroo being a goofball and comforting boyfriend at the same time

when kuroo suggested going clothing shopping, you were more than ecstatic.  a whole afternoon of him all to yourself; a afternoon of trying on clothing, window shopping, treating yourself, teasing him, what can be better? 

“am i your personal baggage carrier now?” kuroo smirks, glancing down your hold on his arm. normally, you’ll hold onto his left arm, but today, his left arm is occupied by shopping bags. 

you smile at his remark and continues to skip towards the store you insisted checking out. “you signed up for this when you became my boyfriend; it’s in the boyfriend handbook to help carry their partner’s bags. everyone knows this :)”  

“hm, apparently everyone but me.” 

as the two of you walk, you can hear the gentle bumping of the bags held on kuroo’s arm. the ceilings are so high, the large windows allows sunlight to pour into the mall, the people walking towards you looks so cheerful. and rich ... they all look like they only shop at designer stores.  

there’s a pair of teenagers walking towards you; a boy and girl, hand-in-hand, with ice cream cones in their other hand. they both have wide smiles on their face. kuroo catches on quickly. “you want ice cream, don’t you?” he asks, even though he already know the answer. 

you excitedly nod in response. “i’ll pay to repay you for carrying all the bags-” 

“oh really?” his right hand finds its way to your left hand and gives it a squeeze. “you know, i don’t really mind. it’s an arm workout ;)” 

“still, your poor arms must be dying already-” 

he quickly furrows his eyebrows. “what do you meann, there’s no way my arms are hurting from carrying just four bags,” he says defensively. “i’ve lifted-” 

“yeah yeah-” just as you’re about to go on how he’s afraid to arm wrestle bokuto, you spot a frozen yogurt place ahead. “babe, look look, let’s go,” you excitedly say, tugging on his hand. 

“that’s not ice cream.” 

“but it’s frozen yogurt! almost the same thing-” 

he softly smiles as he lets you drag him towards the waiting line. “who’s gonna tell you that frozen yogurt and ice cream are very different?”  he says, shaking his head in amusement. 

“they both taste good and that’s all i know.” 

“that’s a long line,” kuroo mumbles upon seeing 20 people waiting behind the counter. “maybe we-” 

“maybe we can go to other stores and then come back ... maybe then the line won’t be so long and if it still is, we can get ice cream instead :),” you suggest, determined to be able to both shop well and eat well today. 

kuroo thinks about it for a moment and nods. “sounds like a plan ... where did you say you wanted to go? was it victoria’s s-” 

you glare at him. 

he smirks back. “what?” he shrugs innocently. 

“actually, i want to get new pants-” 

“mm ... yoga pants, perhaps?” 

you glare at him again, quickly looking down at the floor in sudden embarrassment. you try to match your footsteps with his. 

he looks far off into the distance, pushing back the smile threatening to appear. 

“i was thinking more of jeans and sweatpants.” 

“so where is this store you’re going to buy your jeans and sweatpants?” 

“right in front of us :)” you reply, tugging on his hand once again as you two walk through the black door frames. the store’s full of clothing racks, posters, mannequins, and a giant screen behind the cash register. a funky song plays in the background and for a moment you’re afraid kuroo’s gonna break into a dance and give you second-hand embarrassment. but he doesn’t; instead, he follows your lead as you make your way to the jeans section. 

as you look around the stacks of jeans, kuroo checks himself out in the full-length mirror beside you. (why is he like this :’) okay, not full-on check himself out, but subtly fix his hair and clothes. “babe, c’mere,” he calls out to you. 

you look up with a raised eyebrow. 

“c’mere,” he says, waving his hand. 

you walk towards him and he turns your shoulders for you to see the mirror. 

“we can pose like those mirror selfies that other couples do,” he smiles. 

except you don’t smile back. all you can see is the way your thighs stick to each other, you see how stubby your legs look, how your arms just awkwardly flail on the side. all the excitement you felt a few seconds ago plummeted to the ground. it fell to the ground and got crushed under a rock. probably a giant one. a hole starts to form in your stomach. why do i look like that? i’ve been walking around ... looking like that? 

you quickly suck your stomach in, biting your lip to stop the tears threatening to spill down. no, i’m over-thinking. stop being over dramatic. stop, you think. kuroo side-eyes you, wondering why the smile he loves so much isn’t appearing. 

“babe?” 

“i don’t need new jeans” you softly say, leading him out the store; leading yourself away from the reflection you hate so much. 

kuroo narrows his eyes as he lets you pull him by his sleeve. “but you looked so excited to buy new pants ... is it because of my yoga pants remark?” 

you softly chuckle at the remembrance of his remark he made a few minutes ago. “no it’s not that, i just realized i don’t need new pants. i have so many pairs already, remember?” you say, forcing a nervous laugh out, hoping he’ll drop the topic.

he stays unconvinced. “well, since you don’t look as happy as before, i’m sure some frozen yogurt would help with that.” 

“...no it’s okay.” you say, avoiding his gaze. “i don’t feel like eating right now.” 

“...you sure?” he softly asks, reaching for your hand again. “are you feeling sick? headache? cramps? stomachache? legs hurting from walking for so long?” 

“nope, none of that. i’m feeling just fine!” 

he gives you a silent look. “you know, you’re pretty bad at lying to me.” 

you don’t reply. you don’t know how to.  

“as someone who cares about you,” he says, leaning a bit down to get a better look at you. “i’d like to know the real reason behind you not wanting jeans anymore. if it’s hard to say out loud, give me keywords and i’ll guess.” 

you look at him for reassurance, like the way you always do. “thighs.” 

“...thighs?” he questions. “wait, where are we walking to? we’ve been walking around without a set destination. do you want to sit down on one of those benches?” 

you nod as he leads you to a bench. kuroo places the shopping bags on the end of the bench and sits beside you, your hand still in his. 

“thighs ... let me piece all the puzzles together. you started not looking as happy when you stood beside me when i mentioned the couples mirror selfie...” he pushes his hair back with his other hand. “do you not like couple mirror selfies? no wait, that doesn’t have anything to do with thighs. did you bump your thigh against a corner?”

you shake your head, a bit amused at where he’s going with this. 

“...help me out, babe. did they not have jeans in your size? were they too expensive? were-”

”i wouldn’t look good in them anyways” you blurt out. 

his eyes widens as he suddenly realizes. “i don’t see what you mean. you would definitely look better than just good in those jeans. how’d you know if you haven’t even tried them on?” 

“just look at me,” you mumble, squeezing the fat on your thighs that takes up more space on the bench than you want them to. 

he frowns and rubs his hand over your right thigh. “why’re you frowning upon your body? the body that i love so much? if you’re not give it love, might as well trade it with me-” 

you laugh at the thought of walking around in kuroo’s body. what is it like to be 187cm (6′1″)

he smiles upon hearing your laugh. “seriously, you look beautiful. your face, your tummy, your thighs, those jeans don’t even deserve to come in contact with your legs-”

you give him a small smile, knowing he’s trying his best to lift your spirits. you know how much he loves you, he’s never failed to show it. after a few moments of kuroo rubbing your thigh in silence, you softly ask,“...can we still get frozen yogurt?”

an big grin creeps onto his face. “that’s the spirit,” he chuckles, standing up and collecting the shopping bags on his arm again. he holds out his hand and pulls you up from the bench.  

“also, when we get back home, can you give me a piggyback ride so i can see from your point of view? that way, i’ll know whether i want to trade bodies or not” 

“of course,” he laughs. “but the trading offer is closed. you’ve gotta learn to love the one you have.” 

[singingvio]

So on the headcanon list I just posted I talked about Vio possibly having ADHD and being distracted easily, and because I’m ADHD myself and relate to Vio’s character a lot, I want to talk about that more.

First, a lecture on what exactly ADHD is and how it works because some people just interpret it as ‘LOL I have an attention span of a millisecond who wants ice cream’ and that’s actually incorrect and it kind of pisses me off, then, after that, more headcanon stuff! :D

(I am not knowledgeable about this in a medical sense by any means, but I DO have a pretty bad case of ADHD so I still know exactly what I’m talking about)

First of all, in case you didn’t know, ADHD stands for Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder. In non-fancy words, this means Okay Let’s Take Notes Oh My Gosh It’s A Butterfly Let’s Catch It, or A Bit Too Hyper And I Probably Shouldn’t Have A Lot Of Sugar, but there’s more than just that.

There are three major types of ADHD:

ADHD, combined type - This one is the most common type. I have this version of ADHD, and I know the most about it. This means you have trouble paying attention and get easily distracted, and you’re probably hyper or impulsive. This hyperactivity can sometimes last for a very long time, or a very short time. For me, I can be really tired and suddenly want to run a marathon, and then just go to sleep. Or, I can wake up really excited for absolutely nothing and stay that way for almost the whole day. The attention thing you actually can’t fix easily without medication, unlike people with a short attention span who don’t have ADHD. I’ve tried paying attention, and unless I hyperfocus on something (like right now, actually), I CANNOT pay attention for longer than a few minutes. I take medication every morning so my attention span is longer, but that’s really all I can do.

ADHD, impulsive/hyperactive type - This form of ADHD is only hyperactivity. It’s the least common and people with this type of ADHD are energized and can be impulsive or extremely hyper, but this has no affect on their attention span or distractibility. This type still can get distracted, but it’s much harder and they also can’t get into hyperfocus as much as the other two types.

ADHD, inattentive and distractible type - This type is kind of in the middle of how common it is, and it makes it harder to pay attention and you’re easily distractable, and it’s easier to go into hyperfocus (though honestly, I do not reccommend it, you forget to eat and everything). This doesn’t come with being hyper, easily energized, or impulsive, though again, you can still be so without being an ADHD combined type.

We still don’t know how ADHD is caused, but it’s probably genetic. It’s a brain-based biological disorder. Here’s where I get sciency because I had to look this up from multiple sources, so buckle your seatbelts.

People with ADHD have low dopamine levels. Dopamine is a neurotransmitter, a type of brain chemical, and can be found using positron emission tomography, or brain-scans. Brain metabolism in people, especially children, with ADHD is shown to be lower in parts of the brain controlling attention, social judgment (we’ll talk about that later), and movement.

Only 4 to 12 percent of children are actually diagnosed with ADHD, and interesting fact, boys are 2-3 times more likely to have hyperactive/combined ADHD than girls. This isn’t important, just a fun fact I guess.

Let’s move on to symptoms of ADHD!

For inattention:

1 - short attention span for age group

2 - difficulty listening to others

3 - hard time remembering details

4 - easily distractable

5 - forgetful often

6 - poor organization

7 - poor study skills

(I’ve got symptoms 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, AND 7.)

For impulsivity/hyperactivity:

1 - Often interrupts others

2 - Not a lot of patience

3 - Tends to blurt out answers

4 - Takes risks and doesn’t think before acting

5 - Has a hard time staying still

6 - Can’t be in one place for long

7 - Fidgets excessively

8 - talks a lot

9 - has hard time engaging in quiet activities

10 - Forgetfulness

11 - Has a hard time staying on tasks and often leaves works uncompleted.

(I’ve got symptoms 1, 2, 4 (the second part), 5, 6, 7, 8, 10, and 11.)

Also, as an added bonus, if you take medication for treatment, you also might experience symptoms of:

1 - insomnia

2 - decreased appetite

3 - stomachaches

4 - headaches

5 - jitteriness

6 - increased hyperactive behavior after the medication wears off.

Also just so you know a lot of people I know with ADHD get in trouble a lot for not paying attention so there’s that! (You don’t know HOW many times I’ve gotten detention for completely forgetting about homework, projects, or just not paying attention)

People with ADHD can also often be diagnosed with anxiety or depression, since dealing with it can be really stressful or make it feel too hard to deal with. (I’ve got anxiety, so I know exactly what this feels like, it’s difficult).

NOW, on to what I think Vio has!

I think Vio has ADHD, combined type, though the attention defecity shows more than the hyperactivity. The hyperactivity just doesn’t seem to match up with his character, as he doesn’t seem to get worked up that much at all. Sometimes when he’s stressed or under pressure, but even then not often. Still, he probably has combined type.

Also, the symptoms I’ve found he shows in the manga are as follows:

Inattention symptoms 1, 2, and 4. However, my personal headcanons also show him having symptoms 3, 6, and 7. I think he’d have a pretty good memory, but not a very sharp one, having a hard time remembering details like the order things happened or the time, but still having a good enough memory that he can rely on it when he needs to without much trouble. I also headcanon that time runs away from him often like me. Time flies with little to no prompting, as the saying goes. ^^

He also has impuslivity/hyperactivity symptoms 1, 3, and 8, though I also headcanon him to have symptoms 5, 6, and 7 as well. He’d probably have a hard time keeping himself from blurting out information, and as a coping mechanism he’s probably try to keep all his thoughts to himself, which explains why he doesn’t talk much to others in the manga. This isn’t a very good coping mechanism, by the way, keeping it all bottled up is just begging for disaster, and I should know.

As for treatment? He probably doesn’t know he has ADHD and just thinks everyone has the same problems he does and is just better at concealing them. When he finds out, either by research or being diagnosed by someone else, he’d probably be shocked.

“Wait, are you saying not everyone has trouble paying attention, staying focused, or sitting still, and even if they do it’s not even that bad? What?”

He’d also probably talk down to himself at some points after that because Vio I feel aims for perfection often, and having a mental disorder would be hard on him since it’s a sign he’s not perfect, which of course he isn’t duh.

After he finds out, he might take medication but mostly rely on therapy. Not an actual therapist, but talking to others about his problems would probably help him more than the medication and dealing with it on his own.

So, yeah! AND NOW, THE THING YOU’VE ALL PROBABLY BEEN TELLING ME TO LIST, HEADCANONS!

- Vio talks to Shadow and Blue the most about having ADHD, since they both might also have it and also they’re easy to talk to once you get to know them.

- He’s one of the types who goes into hyperfocus a noticeable amount. Not so often it’s a big problem, but you might see him at 2 AM furiously writing something down, and then at noon he’ll pass out from exhaustion because it turns out he wasn’t able to fall asleep because he suddenly Had To Do The Thing Right That Second And Couldn’t Stop.

- He’s also the type to get lost in space a lot thinking and you might mistake for sleeping if you can’t see his face. It’s not the same as hyperfocus, but it’s just as hard to get out of when I do it myself.

- He derails the conversation topic unintentionally and as a result tries not to start up conversations. By derailing the topic, I mean you’re talking about your favorite sweets and he’ll suddenly say something about the history of chocolate which will connect to the history of some other food he likes that suddenly turns into Did You Know Water Can Be A Torture Device and then suddenly you’re talking about different torture techniques that are really weird. Candy-->Torture that’s just how it goes sometimes.

- That One Kid Who People Don’t Know How To Talk To Because Their Interests Are Really Uncommon.

- He’s an... okay... notetaker, but try to read the notes and you’re ready to lose that game. His handwriting is terrible because he tries to write everything down before he forgets, which results in sloppiness.

- The medication side-effects he has are effects 1, 2, and 4, but mainly 1 because honestly it’s practically canon in this fandom that Vio has the hardest time sleeping out of the Links.

Most of these headcanons, actually, this entire post, might be me self-projecting but nevertheless I think Vio having ADHD really fits his character and I want to see more ADHD Vio stuff in this fandom because I really like the headcanon.

[monsters-demons-and-ai-oh-my]

What We Lost and What We Have

Chapter 3: Shitty coffee, Schrodinger's door, and the joys of the American medical system

TW: description of seizure in this chapter. And finally some Cas POV!

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AU somewhat inspired by Episode 2x20 - What Is and What Should Never Be, and the season 14 storyline concerning Jack’s illness.

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AO3 Link

Previous Chapter

First Chapter

Complete Tumblr Chapter List

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Chapter 3: Shitty coffee, Schrodinger's door, and the joys of the American medical system

-

Kelly almost never got sick when she and Cas were kids, maybe the occasional seasonal sniffles but never seriously sick, not even the flu.

It had made her eventual death when Jack was born even more of a shock.

Castiel remembered when he was nine and she was sixteen the rest of their family was down in bed with the flu and she was the one up perfectly healthy checking in on everyone and making them soup.

Jack had always been the same as his mother in that regard, Cas could count on one hand the grand total of sick days Jack had to take off school since kindergarten. He’d never so much as broken a bone up until this.

So why hadn’t he been able to pick up that something was really wrong sooner?

He should never have brought Jack back to Lawrence. When they got the call from Sam the week before Jack was so excited. It had almost been hidden under apprehensive disbelief and the way he’s anxiously couldn’t meet Cas’s eyes but Jack had been holding back an unsure smile.

His siblings wanted to include him in something...

Cas had a bad feeling about it from the start, neither brother had spared more than a passing glance at the boy since John Winchester’s death. People didn’t just drop back into your life after ten years as if they never left, there were always strings attached, always a catch, and he didn’t want to subject Jack to that.

He even had a ready-made excuse, Jack was already grounded for the nonsense he pulled during his last world history test.

But... Jack had been so excited, and these men were his family, part of his past he rarely if ever got to interact with; and it was the anniversary of John death, Jack’s father’s death.

Jack was almost seventeen, who was he to keep him away? What would it do to their relationship if he did?

It had been a mistake.

The cough Jack seemed to be getting over after a week crept back up on him during the eight-hour drive and was only exacerbated by their first night in the hotel. And then they went to the graveyard.

He knew before Dean opened his mouth that they should have stayed home. The panicked look of shock on Sam’s face was enough to tell him they hadn’t really expected them to show up.

Was it just out of courtesy that he’d even called?

And now Jack was hospitalized a good few hundred miles from their home with god knows what.

He wished the look of rejection on Jack’s face was something he’d never seen before, and maybe he hadn’t, at least… never like that, never that terrible.

The ride back to the hotel had been so quiet, only broken by the occasional soft cough. Jack just stared out the window biting his lip like he was trying desperately not to cry. Castiel was afraid to say anything because if he accidentally said the wrong thing and Jack lost the tenuous hold he had over his tears Cas couldn’t comfort him and drive at the same time.

He’d tried to talk to Jack as soon as they pulled into the hotel parking lot but by then the teenager’s eyes had dried up. Jack didn’t reply except to say his head hurt and…

“I just want to sleep,” his voice was so soft and hollow.

Castiel let the subject drop, buying some Advil from the small hotel commissary and leaving Jack to curl up in bed. He didn’t want to push him, not now.

“We should have never come…”

He kept repeating the words in his head over and over, more rapidly now with Jack propped up on his side in a hospital bed, Castiel holding the little pink plastic kidney dish a nurse had given him for Jack to spit the blood he kept coughing up into. A new doctor who’d introduced herself as Hannah listened to his breathing with a stethoscope through the open back of his gown.

It turned out doctors came a lot more readily when you weren’t tucked away in the corner of a busy emergency room.

Cas’s heart was beating almost as fast as Jack’s on the monitor as he puzzled over the symptoms of the past two days. None of it made any sense.

Even the doctor looked mildly perplexed as she meticulously worked Jack over, whispering gentle platitudes to try and keep the teenager calm.

Jack was too out of it to really care, too drugged up and exhausted to really process the world around him. His normally clear and inquisitive blue/hazel eyes dull and wrong, it was enough to make Castiel feel sick to his stomach.

Samuel Winchester was still perched in a chair by the door like a giant nervous pigeon ready to fly off at the first sign of trouble. Balancing on the edge of indecision just like the evening before.

“It’s your ridiculous dithering that got us stuck here.”

Part of Cas wanted to tell him to just leave, follow his brother out, but every time he worked up the energy to tell Sam off Jack started coughing again.

There were more important things to keep his attention.

The doctor gently asked Jack to roll back to lying on his back and she began looking in his mouth and throat with a penlight and tongue depressor. Jack watched eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. Castiel set aside the little bloody basin and gently squeezed his hand.

She paused after a moment sitting back eyebrows and mouth tightening thoughtfully before she spoke again.

“I need to hear the timeline of events again…”

It took Castiel a moment to realize she was addressing to him, her eyes fixed on him expectantly.

Castiel cleared his throat, “from where?”

He’d let Jack rest for several hours after they got back to the hotel, sleeping through the worst of the headache and letting the pain medicine take effect. He only woke Jack at around eight PM because he thought it was important for him to have something to eat before resting for the night, especially since they were supposed to leave early the next morning to drive back to Indiana.

Maybe he should have noticed how quiet he was after what happened at the graveyard. Jack was an emotional kid, usually, when he was really upset he was either sulked pointedly or cried, now instead… he just slept.

Maybe he should have noticed how listless Jack seemed when he’d woken him up, but he’d pinned it on not having eaten since their early lunch and the stress of the day.

“The seizure, I need to know what happened with the seizure and directly before…” The doctor was saying with the same soft comforting quality in her voice that she used with Jack.

“We um…” Cas took a shaky breath.

They’d stopped in a little mom and pop diner for a late dinner, a small place with worn red vinyl booths and Americana icons like vintage road signs and old coke bottles propped up on high shelves. It was a familiar place that Castiel had sometimes met John at to pick up Jack for the weekends when he was little.

It seemed more comforting after the rough day than an ordinary fast food joint and it felt oddly appropriate considering the anniversary of John’s death. He thought it might bring Jack’s spirits up.

But Jack had just been quiet leaning his head in his hand elbow resting on the table, mumbling that he wasn’t really hungry. He only ordered some french fries at Castiel’s insistence that he should have something .

Castiel felt a pang of anxiousness pressing on his chest as he watched Jack slowly stir a fry in ketchup and nibble at the end.

“He seemed okay… I thought…” Castiel paused and shot Sam a glance he didn’t feel like starting another argument in front of the doctor. “I thought he was getting over a cold and was upset because it had been a really stressful day. I asked him if he was okay…”

Jack had just shrugged not looking up, continuing to pick over his food, “I’m just not hungry.”

“I meant about what happened earlier…” Castiel insisted gently, feeling like a terrible role model having barely touched his own food.

“It’s fine,” Jack unrolled his silverware from its napkin and started to experimentally cut off the outer crispy layer of a fry, not looking up at his guardian.

“I shouldn’t be disappointed because I shouldn’t have expected anything in the first place,” he muttered harshly continuing to mangle his fries, “they don’t owe me anything, I should have stayed home and studied for finals.” He winced suddenly dropping the knife he was using and reaching up to rub his temple.

Worry rose in Castiel’s stomach, “Is your headache coming back…?”

“Can I have my phone back?” Jack deflected to the tabletop.

“No you’re still grounded,” Castiel batted the misdirection away concerned, “Jack please, talk to me.”

“I said I’m fine...!” Jack’s voice came out harsh and cracked halfway through his elbow slamming down on the table.

He blinked and jumped like he’d startled even himself, Castiel was about to chastise him for yelling when he realized just how white the boy had gone.

“Jack...:” Cas said uneasily. Hesitantly he started to rise from his side of the booth, worry growing by the moment.

“No!  ...I’m sorry I…” Jack winced again squinting for a moment looking confused, “I didn’t mean…”

“I should have done something then…” Castiel muttered half to himself fiddling with the edge of the blanket the hospital lent him, he couldn’t even look Jack in the eye now.

“I… I’m going to the bathroom…” Jack muttered slowly getting to his feet.

Castiel teetered for a moment hand resting on the edge of the table considering following the teenager.

“I… I thought he had a stomachache or something I didn’t want to embarrass him…” Castiel tried to explain, feeling like he needed to justify his decision to the doctor and himself.

As the minutes passed though and Jack didn’t return Castiel’s worry grew to deep unease. Maybe whatever bug Jack had contracted was worse than he thought. He quickly pulled out the money for their food and went to find the men’s room near the back of the dinner.

He tried the handle and realized it was a single stall when it didn’t open, he heard no noise inside except a faucet running.

He knocked tentatively on the wooden “Gentlemen’s” pig attached to the door. “Jack?” he asked cautiously, “Are you alright?”

There was no sound for a long moment, then suddenly, violently, there was a hollow bang and a muffled thud.

Cas’s heart dropped into his stomach, eyes widening, “J-Jack!” he frantically knocked and getting no response began panickedly and uselessly twisting the handle trying to force it open.

“I ran to find someone,” his breath sped up at the memory.

He rushed away from the bathroom grabbing some poor waitress by the shoulder asking desperately for the bathroom key and frightening her in the process. She thankfully understood his hysterical ramblings and went to find the owner.

Then Castiel was repeating the story to the man, voice shaking in panicked exasperation and they went quickly to unlock the door.

“I should have followed Jack..” Castiel found himself repeating.

There had been a strange soft noise through the door when they made it back to the bathroom, but he hadn’t recognized it, he wasn’t prepared for what he saw when the key turned and the door swung open.

Jack was on his back one arm crumpled beneath him, his entire body twitching and jerking violently against the tile floor the muscles in his face and neck painful tensed.

“Oh god, Jack…!” Castiel barely breathed rushing to his side, Jack’s eyes were rolled back and unseeing and blood was trickling down the side of his head.

He yelled to the shocked owner to call 911, frantically pulling off his trenchcoat and folding it to place under Jack’s head running over everything he learned in college and the high school’s recent classroom first aid seminar. His hands were shaking almost as violently as Jack’s body.

There was no sound except the strained harsh whimpering groan uttering from Jack’s mouth and the still running faucet. The last eighty-odd seconds of the seizure that Castiel managed to count before Jack fell limp felt like an hour.

After it ended Castiel mechanically checked Jack’s rapid pulse with shaking hands and pulled him onto his side into the recovery position.

It felt like days before the ambulance arrived.

The doctor’s next questions mirrored those of the paramedics, and he was just as helpless to answer them.

“How long did the seizure last?”

“I don’t know…”

Why wasn’t I with him when it happened?

“What caused the injury to the side of his face and head?”

“I-I don’t…”

Castiel took a shaky breath trying to center himself back in reality, it all felt like a nightmare, like it happened to someone else.

“I...I think he hit his head on the sink when he fell but I don’t know. As for the seizure, I… I was only there near the end of it, and that was eighty-three seconds but he was in the bathroom for longer than that.”

He could feel Sam Winchester watching, his mouth slightly open like he wanted to comment, maybe to try and say something reassuring, he didn’t really care just felt vaguely irritated. It made him feel exposed.

He felt a hand on his arm shaking with the force of more coughing.

“It’s… okay… I’m okay now,” Jack tried to comfort him smiling blearily up at him from his hospital issue pillow blood still on the corner of his lip.

Cas smiled shakily back wanting to scream.

The doctor looked thoughtful searching through Jack’s chart for information. “What happened after you arrived at the hospital…” she asked them carefully setting aside the clipboard looking disappointed with what she found.

Jack only regained consciousness after he was loaded onto a gurney to transport in the ambulance. Castiel didn’t get to speak to him as he only managed to mumble a few answers to the questions the paramedics used to judge consciousness before passing out again.

He’d thought everything would be easier after they got to the hospital but after the initial buzz of the arrival and a quick physical exam of the barely conscious teenager, there were only a few promises about scheduling an MRI before they were left alone in an ER bay.

The place was buzzing with activity and noise on a Saturday evening, an apparent drunken accident involving a bunch of partying Kansas University students shoved beyond capacity into the back of a Chevy taking priority.

This time it was actually hours before another doctor came. A nurse stopped by every once in a while to check on vitals and then help put Jack’s swollen wrist in a temporary sling. Jack’s only major response to being touched was to clench his teeth and groan against the discomfort moving caused. Castiel felt ill, with everything else going on he hadn’t even noticed the painful injury.

Jack didn’t seem to mind the wait, the seizure had completely drained the last of the little energy he had to begin with. He’d laid terrifyingly limp and small on that hospital bed.

Cas eventually took to standing outside the bed’s privacy curtain anxiously trying to get the attention of passing staff, most too busy to do anything but mutter vague platitudes about how the “doctor would be with them soon” before going about their way. He knew in hindsight it was probably rude and unhelpful but at the time he couldn’t think straight, he felt as if Jack was rapidly slipping away from him.

“How long was it before you were seen?” the doctor’s voice was soothing.

“It was…” he rubbed his forehead trying to concentrate, “just after midnight so… about three hours? There… there was a shift change, I think. A new doctor came on the ward…”

He remembered getting the attention of what felt like the hundredth person that night, a woman with curly hair in a doctor’s coat with a lanyard that read Doctor Amelia Richardson.

“Ma’am please, my son,” he always went with son in situations like this, not so much to usurp John’s position, - as Dean might have accused him of - but because he was too worried and harassed to go through the ‘nephew, uncle, legal guardian’ talk over and over.

She seemed irritated at first sighing slightly before opening her mouth to start the same speech every passing ER worker had given him.

“Please, we’ve been here since nine, he’s in pain, h-he…” she seemed to sense the anxious desperation in his tone and finally, finally listened to his babbling, alarm creeping into her expression when he got to the part of his speech about Jack having the seizure subsequent to him probably knocking his head into a bathroom sink.

“Apparently it was somehow confused on the initial report because I couldn’t confirm when the injury happened,” Castiel chastised himself.

“Shhh…” Jack mumbled tiredly patting his uncle’s arm eyes half-closed, clearly starting to drift off to sleep again.

Doctor Richardson had quickly and quietly gone through the curtain to look at Jack, his heart rate elevated from pain and whatever was happening in his body, coughing shallowly and barely responsive to her prompts.

If she had been worried when Castiel mentioned the possible head injury-induced seizure she was absolutely livid when he mentioned that Jack had had a headache all of that afternoon and flu-like symptoms for the entire day. She was suppressing fury through gritted teeth when she’d confronted the lead doctor in charge of the ER.

“Well, I’m glad. I’m sure those college kids will be happy they were treated promptly when they find out they have to come back in because they were sitting in the emergency room with a kid symptomatic of meningitis for several hours…”

To Castiel’s relief, things moved a lot faster for Jack after that.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself for the inaccurate report, it was a traumatic confusing event,” Doctor Hannah said kindly. “And Jack’s MRI didn’t show signs of brain injury or meningeal swelling so it’s very unlikely what happened was caused by the fall or meningitis …”

Castiel nodded and sighed shakily. The information was bittersweet, he was glad Jack wasn’t brain-damaged but at least either issue would be an answer, something the hospital understood and could treat.

Now Jack was coughing up blood… and Castiel was even more lost than before…

“I… have a theory about what might be causing this new symptom…” the doctor told him carefully.

Castiel’s head shot up hopefully.

The doctor smiled kindly, before explaining, “the sides of Jack’s mouth and tongue, there is evidence of cuts caused by his teeth either from the fall or biting down during the seizure,” she hesitated, “there wasn’t bleeding visible around his mouth in the paramedics' report.”

Castiel was quickly beginning to question the competence of these specific paramedics, and the doctor’s next words did nothing to help him stop questioning his own competence as a parent.

“Because Jack was unattended during a good portion of the seizure there’s a good chance he swallowed blood… possibly aspirating… breathing it into his lungs.”

There was a long pause, the possibility was terrifying but…

“So… so will he be alright?” Sam Winchester said the words Castiel couldn’t bring himself to hope.

The doctor smiled sadly, “Aspiration can be dangerous, it can cause complications like pneumonia, and it doesn’t explain the seizure itself, his increased heart rate, or the pre-existing cough… but if I’m right we can treat it quickly and hopefully avoid any more problems”

Finally, Castiel let himself relax.

“We’re going to need to take him for a chest CT in a few minutes, and then a bron- … we’ll have to look in his lungs to confirm,” she explained gently.

Castiel looked back at Jack, his breathing was still labored but he had finally fallen back to sleep he hated that he’d probably have to be woken up again so soon for yet more poking and prodding.

“Can I… can I go with him?” Castiel asked quietly gently squeezing the boy’s arm.

“Of course…” she said with the same level of cautiousness as before, like she was afraid one more reminder of Castiel's inadequacy as a guardian would push him over the edge.

At this point though, Castiel was beginning to feel numb. Like all the horror and anxiety of the last twelve hours had reached a peak before plateauing into a high distant hum.

"I'm not going to leave you Jack…" Castiel whispered to the sleeping teenager, "not again…"

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Castiel followed Jack's gurney as a nurse came minutes later to wheel Jack off for scans and Sam was left alone standing awkwardly in the corridor.

He was a little vague on medical law having never practiced it but he was pretty certain they didn't let more than one family member stay with a minor for support during a medical procedure. And it wasn't as if he had the right or the gall to fight Castiel -the man who raised Jack- for the spot.

So instead he stood awkwardly in the corridor sheepishly juggling his phone between his hands and trying to make a decision on what to do next.

After his third strained smile to a passing nurse he decided coffee, coffee was a good idea, he set off in search of the machine he'd seen in a waiting area on their way in that morning.

'What the hell are you doing Sam ?'

He honestly wondered if he should be here at all, he felt like all he did was make things more strained. If he was going to insert himself back into Jack’s - and by extension Castiel’s - life like an unwanted splinter maybe he shouldn't do it when everything was already so tense and tender.

He sighed and let his self imposed mental abuse carry him all the way to the brightly lit waiting room.

He felt even more out of place amongst the anxious and tired huddles of various patients families. One exhausted woman was half asleep in one of the dull pink chairs as her two healthy children poked around scattered parenting and Better Homes and Gardens magazines.

The only person who stuck out worse than Sam was the man sitting beneath the food pyramid poster beside the vending machines, nursing his second cup of coffee that morning.

'Ah, so he didn’t leave... '

Sam pointedly ignored Dean slipping a dollar into the coffee vending machine.

"You have to grab a cup off the top, the part that drops them is broken…"

Sam just grunted vaguely refusing to look at his brother but following his advice.

"So, what? You're just going to ignore me now?" Dean said hollowly, with no real bite in his words.

"What do you want me to say Dean," Sam still didn't look at him.

There was a pause and Sam heard him shuffle uncomfortably.

"Did anything… happen after I left?" He asked carefully.

"Oh yeah," Sam said thornily, jabbing his order into the machine buttons, "Jack started coughing up blood."

Dean snorted, "Sam I'm being serious."

Sam gave him a pointed look around the side of the machine.

Dean's eyes widened and his mouth fell open, "fuck man…"

"They took him for a chest X-ray," Sam muttered picking up his coffee and starting to walk off without another word.

"Where are you headed?" Sam heard Dean get up and follow him.

"Radiation lab," he muttered, he couldn't stay in the waiting room with those parents, it felt wrong and they were starting to shoot them dirty looks because of Dean's foul language.

"You're pissed," Dean noted.

Sam grit his teeth, it wasn't a question, it didn't deem an answer. Dean knew what he did. Sam didn't fit in that hospital room, but did Dean even try?

"Why are you even still here Dean," he said bitterly not slowing his walk back to the elevator bank.

Dean was silent, brooding, probably remorseful when they got into the elevator. Sam didn't care.

He was just like John like that. He did something shitty that hurt the people around him without thinking and then 'felt bad about it' when confronted with the damage later. Sam was sick and tired of it.

"Well fuck Sam," Dean said louder than necessary arms crossed exasperated, "what am I supposed to do!"

Sam turned to glare at him, "you think I know? We're all flying blind here but how about to start with not whatever the hell that shit you pulled was!"

His brother glanced around the metal box like he was searching for answers in the floor directory.

"Castiel shouldn't have lied…" Dean tried.

Sam snorted, "no shit Dean, but you're not six…"

Dean fell silent again as elevator doors popped open, not arguing with him, either knowing Sam was right or else not willing to prove him right by screaming in an open hallway.

"Fine, sure I just…" Dean sighed shoulders dropping and rubbing at his face, "I barely know these fucking people, maybe you're right maybe I should just leave…"

Sam was surprised by how fast the fight went out of his brother's voice. Part of him wanted him to escalate, wanted him to give him a reason to take all his anxiety and frustration at just one of the sources.

"Don't…" he found himself saying, breathing deeply trying to calm himself down, wasn't he supposed to be the younger sibling?

"Why…?" Dean asked flatly.

The answers floated foggily in Sam's perception. "We should be here, I think we owe that to them."

Dean opened his mouth to argue with him but seemed to quell his need to go off on a tangent, "yeah well, I don't think they want me here."

"Well be here anyway," Sam said dryly.

"And do what Sam, sit in the corner and… and look sad?" Dean said frustration and exhaustion clear in his face.

"Just be here Dean…" Sam found himself saying not even sure when it became clear to him. "If they ask for something… If they need something, be there…"

They both fell quiet after that standing outside the radiology lab. Sam sipping his lukewarm coffee Dean with his arms crossed seeming lost in thought.

They didn't have much time to brood though as one of the doors open and out came a harassed looking Castiel talking quickly on his phone.

He began pacing the hall.

"I… I'm sorry please can this wait until later… yes I know it's nearly noon…" he glanced up just long enough to spot Sam and Dean before looking quickly away, embarrassed.

Sam looked determinedly at the far wall trying to tune the conversation out, it didn't really work.

"I can pay, of course, I can pay for the extra day, you have my card… I… fine can you please just give me a few hours…" the man was biting his lip face tightening with stress.

"Until two?" He sighed frustrated, "no no I can get there, I can get there… just, leave the luggage alone...”

"Yeah… thank you to…" Sam heard the snide irritation creep into Castiel's voice.

Sam heard Castiel end the call and finally looked innocently up. The man was looking at them, fiddling nervously with his phone and looking unsure.

"What's up?" Dean asked nonchalantly. Sam blinked he wasn't even aware he was listening.

Castiel drew back into himself straightening his tie and composing himself, "Is there any taxi or bus service in Lawrence…?" He asked.

"What happened to your car?" Dean asked.

Castiel gave him a suspicious look for a long moment before answering a little sheepishly. "Because I'm an idiot, I rode with Jack in the ambulance."

"What did that guy want?" Sam asked cautiously.

Castiel sighed fiddling embarrassed again, "The hotel, we missed the checkout time this morning, I completely forgot about it with um…"

The sentence hung heavy.

"Do you want a ride?"

Castiel and Sam both stared at Dean like he'd grown a third head.

Dean shrugged and shot Sam a thin smile, "what? I'm being here…"

[aviationfiction]

XXVII

Autumn Dupont

The medley of the roaring waves filled the spacious master suite and my eyes slowly opened to adjust to the sunlight while listening to the serene sound. Within my first line of sight were the mahogany wooden panels of the ceiling and I slightly sat up to take in all of my breathtaking surroundings. The tangled pale flat sheet on the spacious bed fell to my waist and slithers of goosebumps trickled onto my skin as my nearly bare upper frame became exposed. I’d been left alone for the additional sleep that I almost never have and yet his scent overpowered the salted fragrance of the sea to the point of nearly fooling me into believing my love was still in the room. More than just within the decorative bedding, I could smell his aroma powerfully exuding from me though the warmth of his body was absent. Thoughts of my painful night riddled me with embarrassment and suddenly I wanted to do nothing more than bury my head under the cool grey blanket and return to the deep slumber I was once in. It started with a vicious migraine that I masked on the nearly four hour flight to our Caribbean paradise, then that transitioned into a random nose bleed and nausea as I expected, and lastly a spell of sobbing on the bathroom floor that left my man riddled with confusion while desperately trying to help me. Pressure. Though I couldn’t come out with it right then and there, it was nothing more than that. Isaac was the trigger. Although we didn’t have another spat, the sight of him glaring at me as I arrived to the company to prepare for the trip effortlessly crushed my spirit and rattled my nerves immensely. He’d officially superseded the minor issues Dante and I were having just the day before and I could do nothing to get his words and that scowl of judgement out of my thoughts.

My cries in that master bathroom were less about his words and actions but more of a pointless plea for Shane. I needed his arms wrapped around me, his tender words of encouragement, and his brotherly love. I needed my greatest friend. Despite their differences between one another, he’d always been the one to be the mediator between Issac and I whenever we fell out with one another. He’d always bridge the gap to some type of peaceful resolve. There’s no doubt that he’d be able to do now if he were still here, physically within our family. Now I’m left to figure it out on my own because the last thing I want to do is take our sibling issues to my parents as a child would. I doubt he’d inch any closer to respecting me if I did. For now, I’m riding an emotional roller coaster and shamefully taking someone who doesn’t deserve it on the ride. The pain in his facial expressions as the tears poured out of my eyes is all I can see. I was supposed to be catering to his physical pain and yet he was on the floor with me laying in his tight embrace as his words soothed my breakdown and eventually sent me into a slumber. I have no recollection of how he removed all of my clothing and got me into the bed. We’re supposed to be here for the sake of celebrating him in the midst of him getting a much needed break from his everyday life and of course, myself and all of the drama that comes with me, would start of such a beautiful trip with my troubles.

My first task after climbing out of bed was to stare at the unbelievable view surrounding the Hawksbill Estate Dante rented out for our Turks and Caicos getaway. God knows how many tens of thousands of dollars he dished out so we’d be able to say in such a place. It’s multi generational design was clearly constructed for large family holidays or corporate retreats and yet we’re here with nearly all ten bedrooms and ten and a half bathrooms to ourselves. The only additional space being occupied is the one of the chef he hired to keep me out of the kitchen and he’s so far out in the guest house that I’m sure to forget he’s around. The tour I’d taken of the place was half-assed. I’m quite sure I haven’t even seen half of the grounds but I’d been baffled and weakened in the knees at what I’ve seen thus far. I could attest to never having seen any place as beautiful as this one and I wanted to believe he felt the same, but he was far too consumed with my satisfaction of all that he’d chosen, to allow me to take in his own excitement. By the time we were back inside and settling in, my mood began to take a turn for the worse and put a damper on the remainder of the evening and our night.

A proper freshening up and cleanse was next. My attire for the day was all I intended to wear for the next couple of days we’re on this island; a bikini and a pair of sheer white shorts as it’s cover up. I’d chosen a Zimmerman light denim polka dotted style bikini with scalloped ruffles throughout both pieces out of the dozen I packed. I didn’t bother with make up. I simply moisturized my face and ran my fingers through the wavy tresses cascading down my back to give them some fluff. Before exiting the master bedroom, I skimmed through the trivial topics Heather left in my inbox and scoffed at the two filthy ones about me not answering her because I was bouncing on Dante. I thought about ignoring her but I tossed that idea out of the window and responded to just about everything she said while on my search for the ever quiet man of this villa. When I found him, he was seated outside beyond the kitchen’s grand opening at the wooden table with a laptop to the right of him and a bowl of grapes on his left. While standing near the island, I took in the fumes of whatever cinnamon filled concoction Chef Aleem was preparing on the stove. In an instant, Dante’s eyes were leering at me and summoning me to come forward without him ever opening up his mouth to speak. My lips sightly parted at the sight of his glimmering skin as the sun cascaded over it and the beauty of his physical form and aura left my mind and body in dismay as my feet responded to his call.

“Good Morning.” As he leaned his head up, I leaned mine down to capture his lips but swiftly drew myself back when his lip came into mind. I then scanned his face for another spot and settled on kissing the frown lines dawning his forehead.

“Why are you acting like I have some type of contagious sickness? It doesn’t even hurt. Kiss me.”

“Dante.”

“Kiss me.” I obliged his command, but with caution. My lips gently pressed into his and though I could feel the swelling he didn't flinch or wince. He even took it upon himself to deepen what I’d planned to be a simple peck. Our eyes met once he drew his head back and his fingers affectionately slithered across the skin of my cheek. His warm smile comforted me.

“How long have you been awake?”

“Since about eight thirty.” Rather than taking a seat along side of him, I sat on the opposite side of the table so we’d be able to properly face one another. After dropping a grape into his mouth, he slid the bowl towards me so I could have a taste of his snack.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I’m probably never going to wake you up if you’re sleeping, unless there’s an emergency and I or someone else really needs you. Other than that, no. You barely sleep as it is.” He glanced at the screen of his Macbook Pro and returned his attention to me. “Besides, we’re on vacation. I’d like to think one of the perks of that is sleeping for however long you feel like sleeping. Right?”

“And yet you woke up at eight thirty.”

“It’s not like I forced myself to get up. My body’s just used to being an early bird. How are you feeling?” I was hoping he’d avoid that question so I could escape the possibility of having to explain myself and the whirlwind of emotions I was experiencing last night. As weird as it sounds, I don’t want to be that person towards him; the one with the problems that he has to constantly cater to. I’d rather he not have to tread carefully with me or feel like he has to persistently be concerned about me. I’ve dealt with and am still heavily dealing with an overbearing set of parents who have yet to ease up; though my father isn’t as overdone with it as my mother. I’d rather not have him be an addition to that because he believes I’m all screwed up.

“I’m alright. I was a bit stressed out and my emotions responded to it. It happens to everyone from time to time.”

“I don’t know if you remember, but you were whimpering about a headache in the middle of the night. I asked you about medication but you didn’t answer me and drifted back to sleep minutes later. Do you have your medication with you?” In every conversation we have whenever I’m traveling, that’s a question my mother always asks me before I leave and in text messages or a phone call as soon as I land wherever. To hear it coming from him nearly made me crawl under the table.

“I have it.”

“Can I see it?” My face contorted into a deep frown at his request and I quickly jerked my head back in confusion.

“For what?”

“Because I need to know how to take care of you if you’re not feeling well.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal.” His once relaxed face tensed and he leaned forward to rest his arms on the table. As he thought about his next statement to me, he pulled his lip in-between his teeth and exhaled.

“It’s that big of a deal to me Autumn. I want to know how to take care of you. You see how you showed up to that hospital and made sure they were taking care of me properly and then took care of me for the rest of the evening and all throughout the night the other day? I want to be able to do that in return. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of when it comes to me because I’m not ashamed of anything when it comes to you. Yeah, I may be reluctant to have you around my immediate family, but that’s only because I want to protect you. It is not because I’m ashamed of you knowing how screwed up they are. I’d rather be assured in knowing that if you’re not feeling so well, I know what to do to make sure you’re okay whether it be because you have a headache, a stomachache, or a paper cut.” The sound of the waves crashing against the sandy shore filled our ears as we stared at one another in silence. To be genuinely in love with someone means to accept that person for their flaws first. The good is the easy part. I’m willing to accept his; I just fear what he will not accept all of mine. There’s this part of me that helplessly and foolishly hopes that what we have continues to blossom into a forever and there’s the other part that painfully torments my mind with images and a reality of seeing him blossom beyond me with someone else. Yet I continue to irrevocably fall for him. I love him.

I left the table without a word spoken and went to retrieve the container I carry the bottles of pills in. When I returned, I dumped all of it’s contents out on the table and began to explain each and every prescription to him; whether I currently use it or not. Plavix, Lipitor, Zoloft, over the counter Bayer, Ambien, and a ton of others I have been on and off since my time in the hospital. In the midst of my verbal explanations, he examined the bottles, milligrams, and even opened them up so he could get a good look at the pills. His questions were minimal. He simply nodded in understanding and caressed my hand in appreciation of my opening up about something so private.

“The doctor and I are working towards getting me off as much of it as possible. This is why I don’t take any of the sleeping pills. The Bayer is for the migraines.” The cinnamon I smelled upon my entry to the kitchen was pancakes and I certainly didn’t hold myself back from the plate placed in front of me. Pizza aside, I try to eat moderately, but that’s not what a vacation is about. I plan to consume every bit of their fluffy sweetness with the turkey sausage and cheddar cheese and spinach eggs side.

“Other than migraines and your hand, does anything else bother you?”

“No. My hand is an in and out kind of a thing. It was bothering me the other day, but today? Not so much. I could have corrective surgery but I’m not. I feel like those type of procedures make things worse. I’d rather not have a knife cut into my flesh unless it’s absolutely necessary for the bettering of my health.”

“Or for childbirth, if it’s necessary.” I halted before I could get the fork near my mouth and I stared at him. My exhale remained caught in my throat and I’d gone blank of a response for such a bold statement. We haven’t had many conversations about children but I know enough to understand that he certainly does want a family. He prefers to have three but wouldn’t mind there being more if they should come. In the time we’ve spent together, I can easily determine he will not allow his past and the strained relationship he has with his family to deter him from being the best father to the offsprings he’ll help bring into the world. He has the demeanor of a hands-on dad, who won’t be too prideful to get dirty with his son at the park, hit the dance floor with his daughter at a father-daughter dance, instill into his son the value of women and why they should be highly respected, and cry a pool’s worth of tears upon seeing his little girl in her first prom gown. His children will be spoiled while also knowing the value of what’s truly important; humility, generosity, love, respect, and honesty. Whether he has the three or a football team worth of them; they’ll be lucky to have such an upstanding and genuine man as their father. They’ll be just as proud of him as he will be of them.

“Yes. Of course if a woman cannot deliver her baby vaginally for a particular reason than a Cesarean section is necessary.”

“We’re not talking about women. We’re talking about you.”

“Hypothetically.”

“I don’t do hypotheticals.” His snicker wasn’t condescending. He’d done it because we were in accord when remembering he made that same statement once before when we were speaking about the same topic. I’ve imagined us having children. Hell, I’ve imagined us doing everything together. I just didn’t know he’d been doing the same. For the past two years, I’ve gone in between writing children off as a never going to happen type of situation, to possibly adopting at some point in my life, to sperm donation. Yes, my mentality was just as broke as my heart and spirit. Andreas damn near shattered my hopes in becoming a mother. He dismissed us having a child so much that I eventually determined it was me who wasn’t fit to be a mother rather than dealing with the harsh reality of the man not wanting  to have children with me. He was on top of my birth control renewal appointments far more than I was. I was left to watch the girlfriends and wives of his players start or extend their families while I wallowed in our misery.

“You’ll have to marry me first.” I jokingly tested the waters with laughter. Sure, I’d like to be a wife and be settled into a home properly before having children, but there’s no pressure here and I can’t even predict when that time will come. I’m not even sure if it ever will.

“I will.” Flutters filled my stomach to the point of me dropping my fork back into the plate. The statement flowed out of his mouth so easily. My startled gasp was low but he’d been observing me so intensely that I’m assured in him having noticed it. His assertive manner spoke his truth and he glared at me almost daring me to refute what he’d just stated.

“You sound sure about that.” Would he have said it if he wasn’t? Lying to one another isn’t something we do, but optimism can have it’s pretenses and false hopes. There isn’t a single person on the planet who hasn't said they’re going to do something but ends up never completing the task or accomplishing the goal. Realistically, we cannot do it all. So, no matter what this is, I cannot fault him for his hopes and desires within the moment.

“Autumn, I love you. We’re in a relationship and I’m in love with you. What comes next?” He too had dropped his fork in his plate but not because of nervousness like myself. He’d done it to rid himself of the distraction so he could speak his mind. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to just say it. I didn’t know if it needed to be something said after some major romantic gesture like in one of those sappy black and white films you love so much or if it needed to be something said at the most random moment of quality time we spend together. Ultimately, I figured that I’d just say it whenever I wanted to let it out and that’s now. I love you. I love everything about you. I love how kind you are and how you put others before yourself even though there are times when I wish you wouldn’t. I love how when you walk into a room, you immediately light it up with your presence and you bring peace to those amongst you. I love how open minded you are and how you’re always willing to encourage people to be the best versions of themselves. I love how you constantly push for people to take care of themselves first and everything else later. I love that little face you make when you’re concentrating on something and the smirk that follows once you’ve figured it out. I love how you dance around the kitchen while you’re cooking and sing along to every song on one of your playlists. I love how you now sleep so close to me, that we share a pillow, and you barely leave any space for my head.” I’d gone from trying to cease the fluid filling my eyes to full on laughing with him at that revelation. He’d chosen to work on breaking me out of my habit of sleeping on the edge of the bed to now suffering some consequences because of it. I’m sure my big ass forehead plays a part in it.

“I love how you’re always asking questions and showing interest in what I do for a living and what I’m working towards for the future. I love those dresses that you wear to bring me to the brink of a heart attack. I love how you stare at me when you think I’m sleeping and the way you trace your fingers over my chest. I love your awareness and how intuitive you are. I love the way you hug me when you know I’ve had a bad day. I love how much we laugh together. I love how much we share with one another. I love how much you love your family. I love your positivity, even in the midst of the pain that you’re still healing from. I love what you bring out of me and how you’ve motivated me to work harder at achieving what I truly want. You make me feel joy. You make me feel loved. I pray that I’m making you feel the same way.” I imaged this moment a couple of times but I believed it would be those three words of affirmation of our bond but in a simplistic manner. Though I feared blurting them out to him because it would officially be myself giving my all without looking back, in the back of my mind I was assured that I’d be the first one to say it. Given how much of a hopeless romantic I am, sadly, it’s within my nature to shower people with love verbally and physically whether they deserve it or eventually don’t. My thoughts of loving Dante were for me and I marveled in them on good days and worried about my pace on the bad ones. I knew I loved him when I could do anything more than pray for his well being every single night before I go to bed and every morning when I open my eyes. I knew in every flutter of my heart and tingling within my core at the sight of him and the privilege of being within his presence. I knew whenever I yearned for the next time we’d be together on some part of the globe basking in the company of one another with no interruptions or intrusive minds. I knew when I was dashing through my bedroom and stepping into my shoes in a panic before Fredrick could finish explaining what happened to him just two days ago. I know now as I sit here staring into his beautiful eyes while silently hoping they’re the last set of eyes I see as I peacefully leave this earth when I’m somewhere near or slightly over a hundred years old.

“I love you Dante Elliott St. James. I love your entire being through and through. You’ve shown me how to live again and despite being my significant other, you’ve become one of my greatest friends.” The smile on his face may have been the biggest it’s ever been and he quickly stood up and leaned his long torso over the table. I met him halfway.

“Say it again.”

“Which part?” I pecked his top lip.

“The love part.”

“I love you.” Our lips fully met and the smile he held against my own pulled a giggle out of me.

“One more time.”

“I love you.”  

“I love you too.”

“Including my big head that takes up so much space on your pillow?” His laughter was just as loud as it was when he said the sweet joke. He then kissed my forehead.

“Your forehead is stunning.”

“Shut up.”

Our lips collided again and I forced myself to the best of my ability to keep my tongue from doing what it craved for out of concern for his stitches. My love, on the other hand, couldn’t care less. Though the table was a barrier between our frames, it did nothing to stop him from groping one of my breast with his large palms and sensually tugging on my bottom lip with his own. He was showing me where his mind had gone but it was already there as soon as his eyes landed on me while I stood in the kitchen.

“Had you not been laying hands on people two days ago, we could finish what you’re starting. Now we have to be careful because you’re injured.”

“Say what?” He raised an eyebrow and gave me a challenging glare. “You finished with that?”

“The plate? Yeah.” He drew himself back and quickly made his way around to my side of the table. Before I could halt his actions, he effortlessly swooped me up into his arms. My laughter superseded my need to protest about the bruise on his chest. His stride was swifter than I expected it to be.

“Careful now. You’re injured and an old man in addition to that. I wouldn’t want to do any damage.” His smirk worsened the aching between my thighs and I kissed the very top of his forehead because of it.

“This shit talking is quite interesting.”

“I can back it up though. I’m just not too sure if you can.”

“Which one are you trying to give up today? Your voice or your capability to walk?”

“Dante!”

He kicked the bedroom door closed after our entry while our laughter meshed in the sweetest melody. If he took too long getting my barely there bikini and shorts off, I’d hand him a pair of scissors so he could chop it all away.

I’ve been craving him for long enough.

“Look how beautiful….”

The water was the perfect cool my body needed as it battled against the heat of the blazing sun while also not freezing my feet to death. I contemplated running until the ocean water was covering just about all of me but instead I merrily stood amongst the shore admiring it’s subtle waves and the way the soaked sand felt in-between my toes. While my hair blew with the light winds and my skin soaked up the luminous rays so that I could achieve that sun kissed glow that people already swear I already have. I couldn’t help but to take in the tranquility of the moment, the essence of the being resting on the sand just about a foot away from me, and God’s talents for having created such a breathtaking space. Despite what I know cost him far more than I would have ever wanted him to spend, just being here, immersed into such an environment, with a man that is every bit of it’s reflection is priceless. They say heaven is the ultimate paradise, but I’d like to think the creator gifted us with surroundings such as this, so we could have just a taste of what’s waiting for us beyond this life. I’m basking in it. I’m thankful.

“Breathtakingly beautiful.”

I turned at the sound of his raspy voice and chills trickled along the nape of my neck and slithered down the depth of my spine as his intense glare panned over my entire frame. He’d just seen it in all of it’s glory while further acquainting himself and amorously taking his fill of the most intimate parts, and yet he stares as if no other woman has shown him better. A faint throbbing arose in between my thighs and I lowly scoffed at the rage within my once dormant libido. Despite my urge to see the beauty of the islands, I’m far more consumed with the appeal to remain locked in the confines of our posh villa while panty-less and on a mission to leave our mark on every room possible.

“I’m talking about the view.”

“As am I.”

“That view.” I extended my arm towards the ocean so that he took could take in its horizons but I quietly accepted a defeat as he continued to eye me.

“You make it look better.”

“Dante…” My huff was followed by our simultaneous smirks and I quickly turned around so my blushing wouldn’t be the source of his teasing. I would have laughed had he been carelessly flirting like he tends to do from time to time, but I’ve quickly learned how to differentiate those moments and the ones filled with nothing but seriousness. I’d like to believe that statement was a mixture of the two.

“I’m happy to see you in better spirits.”

“Being here certainly helps. How could I ever focus on the nonsense of what’s back home while being surrounded with all of this? That would be a disservice to you and myself.”

“The nonsense meaning Isaac?”

“I suppose so. I’m not ashamed of you or any of this, but I’d rather not have you be viewed as an escape from my problems or as my dependency. That’s not fair to either one of us and it leaves this looming cloud of negativity there. Despite our differences, I’d like to think my older brother knows my intentions and if he doesn’t, I certainly wished he’d simply speak to me to understand them much like I’d be willing to do for what I don’t understand about him. Shane was the genuine talker amongst the three of us. The man could talk a cat down from a tree. Though he and Isaac often butted heads, he still spoke to him with love and looked out for him like a brother would. He was never much of an argumentative type of man; just wordy.”

“Raise your words, not…” I quickly turned to glance at Dante while his relaxed frame peered up at me.

“Not voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.” We finished the Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi quote in unison and my heart instantly fluttered as if I’d heard the sound of my brother’s voice through his own. The silence that followed was a result of my emotions and my lips slightly fell agape at the moment we just shared. I remember the first time Shane told me that. I’d been crying to him about an argument Andreas and I had over the most trivial situation. We were only dating at the time. He enraged me to the point of my screaming at him and he walked out on me. Though I didn’t expect it, we went days without speaking to one another and I was sure that our relationship was over. I wept to Shane as if the man had died and admitted my part in what happened. It was then that we an depth filled conversation about the pointlessness of yelling and the lack of proper verbal expression and misunderstanding one tends to deal with whenever it’s happening. That goes both ways. Words are far more powerful when they’re being expressed when we’re of proper sound, mind, and body.

“He’d always say that to me.”  

“It’s great advice to give.”

“I miss him.”

“I know you do.”

Suddenly the ocean appeared like nothing more than a massive space of my tears for the loss of such an exceptional being. Shane was the standard of what an upstanding human being is supposed to be. It’s not too often that I question God and the decisions that he makes because certainly he knows best, but I’ve yet to get on board with him snatching my brother, mentor, and best friend out of my life like the most vicious thief in the night. What purpose did that serve? He left a hole in my family that can never be filled. The grieving has yet to end. Instead it’s a topic that we tend to divert from to save ourselves from having to bear one another’s burdens of pain. Between my life and health unraveling in addition to my meltdown over my brother’s death, I am conscious of mine being the heaviest to bear for everyone. I’ll never understand the pain my parents felt in having to bury one child while consistently keeping their strength together to make sure they didn’t have to make arrangements for another. I suppose that’s the silver lining in all of this? Is that God’s gift? If you run down all of the details of our family’s history and all that we’ve gone through personally, Lillian and Silas Dupont could have outlived all three of their children. Today, two out of three are still alive and kicking. Maybe that’s why they’re a lot more positive about this life shit than I’ve been.

“He’s here with you. I tend of think of my uncle in the same manner. I have this belief that those who had a hand in guiding us throughout our lives is continuing to do so in the afterlife in some aspect. Shane’s around and I’m sure that he’s proud of you. He knows that you can handle yourself baby.” Within seconds, his arms were wrapped around my waist and he drew me back into his chest. The soft kiss to my neck was a soother.

“The same can be said for your uncle.”

“Yeah, I know that. Uncle Harry literally groomed me for it. He’d always tell me that life isn’t promised and he wouldn’t be around forever so I needed to take in as much knowledge from my elders as possible. Our time together was always a mixture of fun and him dropping tons of knowledge; even about shit that I was too young to understand  or I shouldn’t have been hearing about. He did it because he noticed that my manhood started a lot earlier than it should have.”

“Do you feel like you had a childhood?”

“Not really. In some cases, I feel like I did childlike things such as playing basketball at the Boys and Girls Club, watching cartoons, and playing video games in my bedroom but for the most part I don’t think I had the mentality of a kid. I always had to analyze everything and figure out solutions and conclusions for myself. I had to understand what should have been beyond my years. I’m not hurt about it because it’s the reason why I’m not so bitter today. I can admit that there’s some animosity within me towards my family that I do need to work through before I can have my own, but other than I’m alright and that’s because I wanted to be.” I turned around in his arms to be face to face with all of his handsome glory and I searched for the pain that I know he often sees in my eyes but I couldn’t find any. Indifference? Sure. Pain? No.

“You want to work through the animosity so you won’t inflict the pain of your childhood onto your children?” While he shook his head, he used one of his hands to tame my hair as the wind had it’s way with it.

“No. I’d never do that. I want to work through the animosity so that my children will know where their St. James last name comes from beyond myself. Eventually, I’d hate to know that they have two living grandparents and an uncle who they know nothing about or never met in person. As screwed up as it sounds, I know if I were to find out that I’m going to be a father tomorrow, I’d never share that news with them. I’d want to shield and protect the pregnancy and eventually the child from the toxicity. So hopefully before that time comes, all is well enough.” His words made perfect sense as they normally do and I confirmed my agreement with a kiss to lips. I could never argue with that despite my love of family unity. Every parent wants more for their child than what they had for themselves. In his case, it goes beyond the materialistic aspects of life. He’d like for his children to have a genuine understanding of a family dynamic and it’s importance.

“Two years right?” His light chuckle and the shrug of his shoulders made me raise an eyebrow.

“Maybe. I said two years but you never know. Life has it’s way of throwing curve balls into your plans from time to time.”

“Yeah….okay.” I jerked my head back and we quickly share laughter over him tossing in the possibility that his children could be planted within my womb sooner than he planned for. My womb being the incubator for his children is still the unbelievable part in all of this. I’m not that special. Hell, the thought of being a mother in two years or less dances on my nerves quite a bit. I don’t know where the hell I’ll be in two years. It’s such a short length of time.

“Do you have a hidden talent? Well, you do, but one that everyone can know about.”

“What?” His eyebrows flew up in amusement and my head dropped onto his chest as I did my best to mask my laughter.

“What’s my hidden talent that everyone cannot know about?” The laughter worsened as I shook my head in embarrassment at such a slip up. My bashfulness wouldn’t allow me to boldly blurt out the way the flicker of his tongue nearly made his apartment the last place I’d be seen alive. He savored me on that table; defying my warning of time and unhurriedly tasted me and lapped up my body’s nectar as it seeped out to him. I almost joined him in his desire to remained locked in the confines of his bedroom while we explored one another because of that. The dress I chose for the evening further enticed him and I paid the beautiful price of that when he made his irresistible face my seat as soon as we were in private again. Had I not avoided and playfully argued down his advances just a while ago, he would have done it without a concern for that cut inside of his mouth. Instead, I straddled his lap and took his mind off of it. The feel of his flesh…My God.

“Autumn.” The tips of his fingers raised my chin so our eyes could meet and he smirked as he eyed the lip I’d been biting while I drowned in my salacious thoughts.

“The piano. I can play. That’s my hidden talent.”

“You play very well?”

“Yes. I’ve been playing for a long time. I took a liking to my music teacher when I was in middle school. He was this quirky and super intelligent guy who could play just about any instrument you handed to him. He taught me and I kept up with it. What’s yours?”

“Mine isn’t as great as you being able to play the piano. Can you sing?”

“Fuck no. I sound like a dying bear when I sing. I can only play. Tell me yours now. ”

“I can draw.”

“Really? What kind of drawing do you like to do?”

“Sketch or abstract art.”

“Were you taught?”

“No. I stated doodling on paper when I was a kid and it sort of took off on it’s own. Shane’s the writer, poet, and fashion connoisseur. Isaac’s the singer and numbers expert. I’m the artist and visual aesthete as Shane liked to call me. If it were up to me, I’d tell you he over exaggerates things because he can be a dreamer, much like myself, especially with that Pisces state of being all within him. If you let him tell it, I’m a visual expert.��� His eyes narrowed while listening to me and his thoughts went elsewhere. He pondered something and eventually nodded his head.

“Let me see your portfolio.”

“What portfolio?” My laughter of disbelief made him narrow those chocolate brown eyes of his once again and he stared into my set of emerald to call my bluff. “Portfolios are for people who want to pursue those endeavors in a professional manner. I draw for fun, I interior designed my parents house and my own house, a bit of Heather’s too, and I only help out with family related events. That’s it. I have no interest in doing any of that professionally.”

“Well your parents home looks incredible so there’s clearly some skill there and you’re not about to tell me that you don’t sketch on paper. So I’d like to see.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“What is there to think about?”

“I’m sensitive about my shit, sir.” His chuckle was the source of my smile and he grazed my cheek with his fingers.

“I’m no critic when it comes to you. I’m nothing less than awestruck by everything that you are and do.”

“Dante…” Yet again, he’d given me one of those compliments that left me breathless, speechless, and filled with flutters. As his hands trailed down my arms and took in the goosebumps his words left all over my skin, I sighed in bliss. There was no other feeling within my body.

“I’ll show you some of what I have when we return. I keep it all in a box at home.”

“What were you in school for? You’ve never told me that.”

“Well, I was a biology major and a statistics minor. I was also pre-med.”

“What kind of a doctor were you looking to become? I figured you were interested in medicine when you were at the hospital and damn near about to tell the doctor how to do his job.” My hand lightly slapped into his chest and my eyes playfully rolled at his commentary. I wasn’t that bad. I simply wanted to make sure those sutures were well done so he wouldn’t have any ugly scarring later on. I’ve seen some unnecessary scars and there’s nothing you can do about them once they’ve made their mark and healed. All it takes is actual care and genuine concern about the well being and future well being of your patient to make sure you do an excellent job in treating them.

“Obstetrician. I have a genuine respect for the field and to be able to witness the miracle of life all the time would have been nothing less than incredible. My hand not being one hundred percent has drawn me away from that. I’m sure I could still bust my ass and make my way through school but I’d certainly be limited in what I could do and I’d eventually expose myself if I tried to mask it. In addition to that, I’m not as passionate about it anymore. I want to be one of those people that can throw themselves into anything and just settle but I’m not that woman. I want to love what I do for a living.”

“We both know that I can identify with that very well. If you don’t pursue the medical field, is there anything else that you want to do?”

“I don’t know.” I do know. Though I was interested in medicine, my brother and I often meshed our hidden talents together for future goals that we were going to execute together. He was even willing to wait for me to finish medical school and start my residency before we could begin to put it all into play. Though that particular passion still lingers within me, the other half of it died literally and figuratively. I cannot picture myself doing any of it without he and his expertise there to further enhance my talents. He’d shake me and call me foolish if he were standing in front of me right now but he’s not and that within itself knocked my courage down quite a few notches.

“Deep down inside, you do know, and when you’re ready, it’ll happen.” Yet again, he’d read right into me. He never fails.

“What makes you so sure?”

“There’s a voice within you that seems to be telling you that you cannot do whatever it is that you want to do. Silence it by proving that you can. Trust yourself.” He meshed his lips onto my forehead. “I believe in you. Your family believes in you. You just have to believe in yourself because that’s the most important part.”

“I should have agreed with your idea to stay in for the evening.”

Coco Bistro. Though I insisted that we have dinner outdoors at our villa, Dante persuaded me in not wasting my desired attire for the evening on a private dinner. Instead, we went for a night out on the town and eventually ended up at the bistro for a bite to eat. With it’s one of a kind setting amongst the largest palm grove on the island, it is said to be a food lover’s fantasy and I was swayed once I heard about it’s local and fresh cuisine. I can be a bit of a sucker for an excellent seafood dish.

“Why?” I placed yet another spoonful of the roasted sweet potato and butternut squash soup in my mouth while his lust filled glare washed over me. I’d been going between the soup and the grilled shrimp satay and their Jamaican curry dip while he’d yet to touch anything. He ordered some sort of a grilled flatbread with caramelized onions, truffle cheese, fresh arugula, and chorizo. I was enjoying it far more than he was and per usual, he didn’t care. One of these days, I’m going to stop eating out of his plates. I hope.

“I want you.” What I thought was simple had been nothing more than a teaser for him and he’s done plenty to inform me of it. His hands and those fingers have been all but inside of me as they grazed over the crush black velvet of the dress and the smoothness of my skin whenever eyes weren’t on us. I chosen to wear the crystal lace up detailing on the side of it widen enough to show a nice amount of skin but most of all, so he and anyone else who paid attention would know that there’s absolutely nothing under it. My black Jimmy Choo heeled sandals were the perfect match. After having allowed the wind to tussle with my hair throughout the day, I pulled it back into a sleek ponytail for our evening.

“Maybe next time you’ll listen.” We smirked at one another, mine as flirtation and his as a quiet warning for what’s to come.

“I don’t know if this is going to sound cliche or if it’s going to sound like nonsense to you because you don’t know how to take a compliment, but you are by far one of the most beautiful women of all time.”

“Shut up.” I couldn’t refrain from laughing even if I tried. I always find statements like that to be so farfetched and unrealistic. In our stroll this evening as we took in the ambiance of such a stunning place in the world, I’ve seen a number of beautiful locals and visitors amongst us. Whether you deem them to be traditional beauties or unique, it was noticeable. That goes for anywhere else in the world. In addition to that, beauty’s in the eye of the beholder and given that he’s my man and loves me, the bias is there. I also have to wonder if he’s saying this to me because our waitress cannot seem to refrain from ogling over him whenever she approaches our table. You’d think in every time that she’s given me her back to stare at, I’m not nothing more than a nuisance standing in between her and the opportunity to invite him into her space.

“I’m serious.”

“You’re biased.”

“I’m not.”

“Yeah, okay. Says the man who has women drooling all over you everywhere we go. From L.A. to Miami, to Paris, to New York, to London. I don’t care where we are. They’re drooling. Our waitress is doing it tonight.” I don’t know if I should be admitting that I’m so used to that when it comes to the men in my life but I am. With Andreas, it was the norm. There was no denying his appearance was eye candy for women but they also had no issue leering at him, shamelessly flirting, or speaking with him whether I was within his presence or not. I’m used to waitresses speaking to and offering to serve my significant other first and damn near forgetting my presence. I’m accustomed to quietly observing and yet having nothing to say about it because ultimately, what can I do about it? Andreas thrived off of the discomfort I felt while it happened. He found my “jealousy” to be hilarious. I can admit in some cases I was jealous, but in most, I felt insecure. I began pondering which one of those women would be the one to finally lure him away from me but little did I know, I was looking in the wrong direction.

“I didn’t notice.” A nonchalant shrug followed his response.

“How didn’t you notice?”

“I was looking at you.” I used my left foot to lightly kick him and he widened his eyes with laughter.

“You play too much.”

“I was.”

“Sure you were. You’ve barely touched your starter. Are you even going to have a main course?”

“I am.”

“What are you going to have?” I’d already chosen the pan seared fresh salmon. It was either that or the seafood pasta, but the thought of salmon, smashed buttered redskin potatoes, and the sautéed spinach left my taste buds yearning for it.

“It’s not on the menu.”

“What?” I reopened it to understand why he had a lack of interest in the already delicious choices there and then pondered just how much pull he had to influence the chef to create a personalized dish for him, but the expression filled with mischief on his face left a flustered one on my own. I silently thanked God our table had some seclusion from the other guests.

“I’m going to order for you. You want steak? Lamb? Salmon?” The grilled black angus sounded like more of his speed.

“I want to go back to the villa.” His words beckoned my body and without hesitation the fluttering within my chest was in an unwavering accord with the throbbing exuding from the other half of me. “Can we order your food to go?”

“Yes.” The response went flying out of my mouth before I could comprehend what he asked. I just about called him rude when he raised his arm and summoned the same waitress towards us while she was in the middle of serving the other customers. He refused to wait.

“What do you want to eat?”

“The salmon.”

“Anything else?”

“No.”

Twenty minutes. That’s all it took for my serving to be in Dante’s possession and my body to be swiftly trailing behind his as we made our way to the awaiting chauffeured vehicle. The frustration on his face in response to the pace of our elderly driver was my amusement and I all but thought the man would hop over the driver’s side seat and drive the car himself. Had my arm not been wrapped around his shoulder, I’m certain he would have.

“I can’t believe you said that out loud.” My giggling most likely worsened the situation and yet I couldn’t stop as he used the keys to open up the door. He’d call the man Driving Ms. Daisy with no regard for his feelings. The confusion on his face after my aggravated lover spat the joke out was my cue to apologize with laughter that I could not cease.

He didn’t bother with flipping on the hall’s lighting. My dinner was tossed on the nearest entryway table and my back pressed against the door as it faintly closed behind us. As his body closed the space between us, the gleam in my eyes heightened as the moonlight glimmering through the door’s narrow windows and cascaded over his breathtaking face. My essence entered his realm and my weakening body cried for him.

“I love you.” His words were followed by his hand wrapping around my neck and his lips meshing into my own. His kiss was synonymous with his words. His tongue wrote it amongst mine and as his hands peeled away the velvet, I knew he planned to express that same sentiment to one more part of me.

Our gasps filled the space surrounding us. The coolness of the mahogany wooden door was no match to the raging heat radiating from our frames. The quivering of my lips against his and quavering of my thighs as one remained locked around his waist as he hoisted my body just enough for his sauntering drive and caress, left my being drowning in an addicting delirium. My mind pleaded for reality as the sounds of my love belted loud enough for anyone to hear.

Deeper.

Our cries for one another were in a competition of passion, with myself being the victor.

Slowly.

His determination to make me feel every stroke didn’t go without failure. I unraveled before he did. The trembling and pulsating of every limb coaxed him to fill me.

Our chests heaved in a plea for air as my limbs remained locked around his own.

All of my possessions remained on the floor of the foyer as he carried me away to the master suite. Once my body was resting in the middle of the bed, the rest of his clothing was discarded. Within seconds, he was nestled between my warming thighs with his lips pressed to my ear.

“I love you.” God, I could listen to him say it forever.

“I love you too.”

He slowly dipped back into his haven; my flesh curving around and latching onto him in instinct.

The sounds of my voice and the roaring ocean were a song for him; one that only his ears would ever hear.

I’ll sing it all night.

I’ll sing it forever.

[ramblinganthropologist]

Gift Exchange

Summary: Shit, shit, shit, what do you even get a Turian for Valentine’s Day? Does this even look like food? Alistair Shepard is at a loss for words and a crunch for time as a different type of V-Day looms. Will the object of his affection enjoy it, or is he going to be spending some floor time by the drive core? Only  time can tell. Also RIP Titus Vibrius for taking one for the team. Good job, bro. Garrus appreciates it. Word count: 1815

---

“Uncle Al, does this look right?”

“I'm going to be completely honest with you, Kelly. I have no idea.”

It looked... brown. Maybe? Hell if he knew. Alistair frowned as he stared down into the pan set in front of him, prodding it with the spoon his niece had advised him her father used the most. To him, it looked gross.

But it wasn't for him, so maybe that was good?

Down on the floor, Spectre meowed for attention and rubbed up against his leg. She was still trying to get treats, despite how many Kelly had given her upon arriving home from school. The greedy little thing was going to get fat at this rate, and she knew it. There was something in those eyes that told him so.

Right, this was why he liked space hamsters.

“The recipe says we need to cool it on the counter for twenty minutes before cutting it.” Kelly continued squinting at the translated recipe. “But... it says to triple the time if you're not on Palaven.”

Yeah, because radiation was so great for setting sweets. Turians were fucking weird.

“Better listen to the recipe then.” Alistair reached down to pat her head. “Don't  you have some homework to do?”

Her groans caused him to laugh as they left the kitchen for their treats to cool. The calendar they passed reminded them both it was February 13. The day after was circled in red and something was scribbled in. What, he hadn't paid attention, but luckily he wasn't the one babysitting for it.

He kind of had plans on his own.

“Hopefully he likes it.” Alistair frowned as he sat down on the couch. Spectre curled up next to him while her owner went off to retrieve her school books. All of this still felt so new to him that he didn't really know what to expect.

Hell, he'd never even done this for a human before. How would a Turian react to Valentine's Day candy?

“You think it'll be ok, Spec?” He nudged the mass of black fur in the side to get her attention. All he got in return was a lazy swipe of her paw, claws in for once. She had sated her fill for blood lust two days ago when he had first showed up, and the bandages on his ankles proved it. At least she hadn't gone for the face this time.

They were still making fun of him for that back on the Normandy.

Alistair sighed as he looked down at his omni-tool. An hour ago, Tali had been giving him advice that had fallen somewhat flat. Right next to her message was Mordin's concerning dietary differences. Either he had misunderstood the question, or he had gotten lost in his train of thought and hit send. Given the fact it was at least three or four pages, both were likely.

“I just needed a straight answer. All I needed. Ia that too much to ask?” He sighed again and closed his eyes. No more messages were coming and all he had left to do was wait. But he wanted to do anything but, and it was creating an uncomfortable static in the pit of his stomach that felt like his implant going haywire. Only this was all natural, all him, and all encompassing.

How did normal people even do this dating thing? Was that even what they were doing?

He would have stayed there like a bump on a log sulking – wait, not sulking, he was perfectly fine thank you very much – but the beeping from his omni-tool drew his attention. There was a new message waiting for him, and the sender made his heart skip a beat.

What did Garrus want?

Heart still fluttering, Alistair opened it and scanned through. Without realizing it, he started reading aloud. “You'll be back by the 14th, right? Pretty sure Jack and Miranda might kill each other if you stay any longer.”

His heart dropped to his shoes. Now Alistair really was sulking as he tapped out a quick response – yes, make sure they don't get anything pointy – and sent it out with a sigh. Now he was back and alone with his thoughts. If that hadn't been the proverbial kick in the teeth, he didn't know what else was.

“A-are you alright?”

A translated voice caused him to turn his head. There was a Turian standing in the doorway with a very excited elementary student attached to his legs, telling him about her day. She was keeping him from walking, so no doubt he had meant to ask for help.

“Oh, sorry, Titus. I'm fine.” Alistair didn't really mind his brother-in-law much. They didn't really interact. “Wait... shit you're a Turian!”

Titus gave him a look over Kelly's cheerful cry of “That's ten credits for the swear jar!” but at least had the grace not to be too hard on him. Instead, he managed to pry the human growth from his leg and into his arms where there was easier movement.

“I di- uh, I didn't know that. Thank you, Alistair.”

Now Alistair was blushing in embarrassment. “Sorry, I uh... I need your help.”

He gestured towards the kitchen where his creation was still cooling. “In the culinary field.”

Judging from the look he was getting, this was going to need some explanation. Alistair fought back the burgeoning headache with a reminder of who it was for. He hoped that Garrus was going to appreciate this, because it was going to take some effort.

Next time, if there was one, he was just going to buy it.

---

“I'm an idiot, Tali.”

“You're also in the middle of the floor, Shepard.”

Alistair sighed from his spot on the floor a little too near the drive core. He had only been back on the Normandy for about an hour, and already he wished he was somewhere else entirely. Since they were in the middle of space, there wasn't many options as to where else to go. Maybe he could find a nice air duct to crawl into and die.

“Why didn't I remember it was a human holiday?” He put his burning face in his hands. “I'm so stupid.”

“It's the thought that counts?” There was a question in Tali's electronic voice as she continued working away at her console. Off to the side, his two favorite engineers were clearly enjoying this pathetic display. He made a mental note to make sure they got early duty for the next week or so.“I doubt he minded getting free candy anyway.”

That still wouldn't take away the look of utter confusion that had been on Garrus' face as he had handed over the wrapped box filled with candy. It had taken three different tries – once that had given Titus a stomachache so bad that he had been in the bathroom for an hour – to get it right, and that was the result he got. The blankest look anyone had ever given him, even including all the ones from boot camp. Hurt pride wasn't even a factor, that had just been embarrassing.

Still, it wasn't like Alistair could sit in engineering all day and hide from his problems. He kind of had actual work to do. Besides, the floor was cold. Sighing, he returned to his feet and dusted himself off as best he could.

“Thanks for listening.”

“And thank you for  the leftovers.” At least someone was appreciating his hard work. That was something as he gave Tali a wave and headed towards the elevator. Maybe he added a little extra force when he punched the buttons, but could anyone blame him?

At least the day was almost over if the blinking display from his omni-tool was right – which it was, synced clocks and all that good stuff – so he could put it behind him. Or, at least Alistair thought he could as the elevator door slid open.

Problem was, it was hard to forget how Garrus had looked at him when Garrus was currently looking at him.

Fuck.

Alistair opened his mouth but nothing came out. Instead, he just closed it again as his face started to turn red. He tried to look anywhere but at who was standing in front of him like it was no big deal. So he looked towards the floor, towards his feet.

Maybe that's when he noticed Garrus had something tucked under his arm, half hidden by the elevator door. It wasn't another damned report, thank the gods or spirits or whoever the fuck was listening. Instead, it was... fluffy and had a short tail he would know from twenty paces away no matter what.

“You uh... you ran off before I could give this to you.”

Suddenly, Alistair was being nudged with a plush face. Two round eyes jabbed him right in the side. The plush hamster had to be at least ten times bigger than Saren, large enough to serve as a pillow if he wanted it to be. And it was in the hands of a certain Turian who  couldn't look at him either.

“It's for me?”

Well, wasn't he the master of dialogue?

At least it got Garrus to chuckle, which did awful things to his stomach. “Who else likes space hamsters that much? I didn't know what you're supposed to get someone but the eyes made me think of you.”

Indeed, Alistair noted the toy's eyes were blue as Garrus handed it over to him. All he could really do was hug the damn thing as he tried to figure out something to say that wasn't completely stupid. Judging on the situation, maybe it would have been allowed.

Normally, thank you would have probably been a good one. But damn if he couldn't get his tongue to work right then.

Luckily Garrus wasn't finished talking. “Happy Valentine's Day?”

There was that same uptick in tone that the translator always used to signify a question. Somehow, Alistair was really starting to like that. At least, he told himself that as he held his hamster friend close in order to figure out what to say.

“Uh... thanks... you too.” A smile crossed his face. “Guess I shouldn't have worried about giving you chocolate then?”

“Only that you apparently nearly put somebody in the hospital with it. Glad that wasn't the one you gave me.”

Both of them chuckled as they stood there, no doubt keeping the elevator from servicing other people on the Normandy. As the seconds ticked away and a new day began, Alistair found he didn't really mind that much at all.

They could deal. Half of them were ex-Alliance anyway; they could take the damn stairs.  

[cyjprojectarchive]

not enough | jinyoung

Sometimes love isn’t enough.

x. park jinyoung, you o. 2333 words. angst. 

this was supposed to be a one shot, but my mind suddenly changed its.. mind. thoughts and feedback are greatly appreciated. i... put a lot of personal emotions into this, in a way. ha.

one

“Hey,” he drawls, voice tired and dull—like yourself.

And yet, you put up a front as your lips painfully curl into a hopeful smile. He can’t see you, of course, but pretending to be excited for a call that should have happened five hours ago was more for your sake than his at this point.

You close in on the mic of your phone, you heave a deep breath before placing the device back against your ear. “You called,” you reply. Damn it. You said you weren’t going to be bitter about this. Lips twitching in regret, you clear your throat and huff, “I hope I’m not interrupting something?”

“No we just—“ Jinyoung answers back in a rush, and you can imagine him running his hand through sweaty black locks. “What do you mean interrupting? Didn’t you want to call today?” His tone changes, irritation rising in his throat.

You sigh, contemplating whether to argue or just leave it be.

Although it’s not like either of your choices would make any difference.

“Five hours ago,” you decide to correct him even though  the majority of your senses are telling you to just stop and let him win this time; stop and instead, hear him rant about the exhaustion from working all day; stop and find yourself fading away from Jinyoung—which is probably for the better nowadays.

And yet, you continue pointing out his accusation as false. “I asked you yesterday if you would be available at a reasonable hour that is not two AM and you promi—,” you bite down on your lip. The word has been a taboo in your vocabulary, and his. “—you reassured me you were, so I waited. You’re lucky I kept myself up by watching some random movie playing on TV.

“So you’re saying it’s my fault I had to finish a lot of work today?” Jinyoung finally snaps—you were honestly just waiting for his voice to reach a certain pitch—“If you knew I wasn’t going to call you when I said I did, you could have just slept.”

“So why did you call me at this goddamned hour, Jinyoung?” You shoot back, realizing that there is no way in hell you were going to let yourself feel small around him. Not anymore.

There is a pause, and this time Jinyoung doesn’t hide an exasperated sigh. You frown, eyes closing in as an attempt to calm the hotness of your cheeks, and the bubbling frustration in your stomach.

“Because you didn’t text me that you were going to sleep,” he simply says, understanding void in his tone. You hear nothing but blame towards you, for keeping him worried—and probably guilty—that he, himself, didn’t bother sending you a quick text informing he couldn’t make the call today.

But it’s not like he’s ever done it in a while.

You don’t warn him when you press the blaringly red end button; don’t warn him that you’re tired yourself and he isn’t the only one working full-time jobs in the relationship; don’t warn him that just because his career demanded more in terms of giving all of him to the industry, it doesn’t mean he can’t ever share even just a tiny piece of himself to you—that he can’t ever reserve one miniscule part of him to the person he promi—reassured would always have it.

You’ve done a lot of things in the two decades you have lived in which you initially told yourself not to.

Stealing not one, but four chocolate chip cookies during bed time just to suffer the stomachache in the morning, deliberately coming home three hours later without telling your mom just to be grounded for three weeks straight, drinking not one, but three 8 oz cups of black coffee before finals just to endure the throbbing pains of a heavy migraine the whole duration of your exams—you were logical enough not to pursue any of these acts of disobedience in the first place.

But life isn’t going to be the same without rebelling against the status quo in some way—better yet, that’s how you have shaped yourself to come to rational, beneficial decisions. That’s not to say you still don’t defy the logic of your mind through the persuasion of your heart.

And that is what loving Jinyoung is like—at least, right now.

You wake up with dry cheeks and stinging eyes. There is no natural light that hits your face, fortunately so—you have long since reminded yourself to never draw out the dark blue curtains from your windows during the night. From recent experiences, the growing headache you feel in the morning after a night of either: a) no sleep or b) “sleep sobbing” (as you had named them) only increased in intensity when the morning sun welcomes your face with a glare, almost mockingly.

Nowadays, you let the darkness of your apartment consume you—as if someone was willing to get you out of it, which isn’t the case.

It was another day of work, and you will yourself to keep up the standard routine you have devised ever since you had started feeling distant with not just your boyfriend, but your own being. You didn’t want to lose your source of income—anything but that at this point in time—so as sluggish as you are moving, at least you were getting things done.

The short phone call last night only came back in your conscience when you successfully find your phone hidden underneath the couch of your living room. You don’t exactly remember how it got there, but recollections of anger and longing return to your mind, and you conclude that the person you had called didn’t exactly resolve these emotions of yours thus the act of  shoving your phone somewhere you couldn’t see it for the rest of the night ensued.

Your lock screen was a default wallpaper that came with the device, but as your thumb rests on the home pad you are greeted with a picture of yourself and a man you doubt you still know of by now.

You can never get yourself to change it, however, as you believe seeing Jinyoung with his head lazily snuggled up against the crook of your neck, dark brown orbs absent with his eyelids on full view and yet the whiskers around them available for you to see and marvel over, full pink lips showing teeth without any of his hands hiding the beauty that is his smile—you still have him.

Seeing Jinyoung so vulnerable with you in the picture that was taken almost eight months ago makes you have that sliver of hope that he still cares about you the same way he did before.

And this is what keeps you going every day.

Finally ready to spend the rest of your Wednesday at the office, you make your way to the door and open it fully only to see the man in question standing right before you.

“Jinyoung?” Is your first reaction, eyes widening while your hand trembles in the air, not knowing whether to reach out to the skin protruding from the collar of his shirt to feel—oh god just feel if he’s real, or retract them to your figure and demand yourself to wake up from such a cruel nightmare.

“I’m sorry,” is his first response, eyes confirming the lack of enthusiasm on his voice last night before things got messy. “I deserve to being hung up on and I apologize—for everything,” Jinyoung adds, his tone now more determined and sincere.

Your expression softens, but the crack in your heart can’t be replaced that easily.

“Jinyoung, what are you doing here?” You ask him abruptly, head spinning from the recent turn of events. “I thought you had a showcase to practice for?”

“I—“ Jinyoung starts, and you wait for it. You haven’t seen him face to face in a long time, so witnessing the apologetic features adorning his visage, which quickly turned into furrowed eyebrows, a narrowed stare, flaring nostrils and parted lips made you nervous—it made you fearful of him.

“Aren’t you grateful I came all the way here knowing I can get in real fucking trouble with my manager?”

There it is: the blaming, the guilt tripping after you make him feel guilty. It was always the same sequence of emotions—on call or, as you can tell right now, in person.

“I don’t need this, Jinyoung. Go back to the studio if you’re that worried,” you say, refusing to meet his eyes flashing daggers towards you.

You didn’t want him to see you break down after everything, everything you have fought over for the past couple of months in text messages and voice calls. The last thing you want is for him to see you so weak—even if you are, even if you truly just want to make peace, you know Jinyoung wouldn’t. His pride is written all over his face, and it takes a good scrubbing for it to come off.

But you’re just so, so tired.

“Excuse me?” He shouts, stopping your exit with his arm outstretched at the door frame. You take a step back, wincing at the loudness of his tone. You have heard it countless of times from the speaker of your phone, but absorbing every anger it held right in person was a different terrifying sensation all over.

“You shouldn’t have made all the fucking effort of coming here just to blame me for the fact that you had to, Park Jinyoung,” you spat, forcing yourself to reciprocate his stare as you hold back the tears dangerously forming around your eyes.

You didn’t want to do this right now, so early and just… so raw. You haven’t seen him in months, you haven’t had a decent conversation in weeks, and you’re going to be late for the interview your boss had set up in regards to your promotion in the business. Jinyoung didn’t have any consideration towards you, and you doubt he’d try to understand right now.

“Can’t you just—can’t you just accept my apology so we can get this over with, then?” Jinyoung sighs heavily, using his other hand to rake through unkempt hair—he probably snuck out of the salon to make a quick visit as you see the perfect coverage of his face, no blemishes no scars—except for his eyes, his orbs that dug right through you. His stylists can never do anything to make them shimmer anymore, you think—and suddenly, you frown.

Jinyoung’s changed.

“You want me to forgive you so that you won’t be feeling all that guilt eating up your insides and you can finally breathe normally, Jinyoung? I don’t think so,” you seethe, letting one tear cascade down your cheek. His eyes notice and discreetly follow its trail to your chin, and you see him gulp with the tension building up between you. His face wasn’t that close, but any more movement from him inching forward, you would lose it right there and then.

“I’m not giving you that power over me, Jinyoung. Not last night, not today, so please. Get out of my way,” finally, your voice quiets down, protecting your façade from slowly breaking you apart. “You’re not the only one working hard to be successful. I have an interview for a higher position today, so if you’ll excuse—”

“What? You’re getting promoted? Why didn’t you tell me?” Jinyoung asks, curiosity overpowering the annoyed tone in his voice. His eyebrows relax for a moment, and you contemplate whether or not to admit your fault in not relaying such relevant information to him—at least, it’s relevant to you.

But you remember you’re just as angry and just as frustrated.

“I was supposed to tell you during our call last night,” you, instead, confess. “But shit happens, right?” Jinyoung’s thick black eyebrows return in a knot, and his eyes darken like the isolation you feel in the night, but this time—you’re just over it.

“Hurry back to your damn studio, Jinyoung. They need you back,” you mumble in your wake, shoving past his tense shoulders and outside the apartment complex, not even locking the door behind you. You remind yourself to call up your best friend to do so in a few minutes as she has a spare key, but right now, that’s the least of your concerns.

They need you, yeah right, like you weren’t projecting.

Shutting the car door with a slam, your head drops on top of the steering wheel, forcing a yelp from your mouth to escape. The tears you held back threaten to let go even more, but you sniffle them away. Your throat hurts from keeping it in, and so does your head, but you push yourself to continue on with your day as needed.

Jinyoung had probably left your apartment by now—what else was he going to do there? Wait for you to come back? You scoff, as if. But as you drive to the usual road you take to work, you are suddenly reminded that traffic is really heavy at this time of the day, so you turn to a corner.

The light turns green, and your car whizzes through the pavement as your feet aches to take you to the office as fast as you can. You side eye the rearview mirror as your heart sinks to your stomach almost immediately, a prominent banner plastered on a particular building for everyone to see. Quickly turning your head forward, you feel yourself hyperventilating. You just saw him this morning, told him to vanish, and here he is haunting you from behind.

“Fuck,” you say under your breath, hot and heavy, and hoping—hoping you’d be able to go through the interview with a higher salary promised—reassured in hand, and not a certain Park Jinyoung invading your mind.