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cherrycola27 · 2 years

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Elementary

Summary: You are the younger sister of Natasha Trace. You've just moved to San Diego to teach 4th Grade. You never expected to fall for an older man in a Hawaiian shirt who happens to be her best friend.

Warnings: Language, Drinking. Smut, Age Gap, Daddy Kink. Minors DNI 18+

Next Part

...........................................

You'd noticed him the moment you and your friends had walked into the club. He was with a group of guys leaning up near the bar. He looked entirely out of place with his Hawiian shirt and aviators. He had a thick mustache that accentuated his almost familiar face.

He was still there when you walked up later to get a drink.

"Can I get a Titos and cran with Sprite?" You asked the bar tender. "Titos?" He commented. "Classy." He smirked before taking another sip of his beer.

You laughed before turning to him. "I'm trying not to hate myself in the morning. I spent enough time in college drinking bottom shelf shit out of a trash can in a frat house. I've done my share of hangovers. Thank you very much." You tell him.

He turns his body to face you fully. You catch the quick slip of his eyes as he scans your body.

"College? When was that? Last year?" You can't tell if he's joking or not.

"I graduated six years ago. I'm twenty-eight, not a child." You tell him. "What about you. When did you graduate Old Man? 1950?" You laugh.

"Old Man? Really? What makes you say that?" He asks you. "The 'stache and the Hawaiian shirt." You say nonchalantly.

He laughs. "Well, it's been about thirteen years since I graduated college. Didn't realize thirty-five was old." He shakes his head before finishing his drink at the same time the bartender comes back with yours. You go to hand him your card, but your new friend stops you.

"This one's on the Old Man." He winks at you.

"Thank you. You smile at him. "I'm Bradley, by the way, but everyone calls me Rooster." He puts his hand out for you to shake. You tell him your name, and then it clicks. He's one of your sisters coworkers.

She would kill you if she knew you were flirting with him, but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

"What do you do for work, Rooster?" You asked him. You knew the answer. "I'm a Naval aviator, I fly jets and stuff." He says it so casually. "Oh, that's cool. I've got a few family members in the Navy." You tell him. That's not a lie. Your sister and your soon to be brother in law were both in the Navy. You didn't want to tell him who they were, though.

"Cool. What about you? What do you do for work?" He asks you.

"I teach. Actually, I just got hired to teach fourth grade at the elementary school near the Navy base here in San Diego." You tell him.

"No shit? I know if my teachers had been as pretty as you are, I might have paid better attention. But on a side note, I've got a couple of friends I work with whose kids are going to be in fourth grade there." He tells you.

Little does he know that those kids are your niece and nephew.

"Well, maybe I'll get to see you around then." You finish off your drink and set it on the bar, just as one of your favorite songs comes on. 'Unholy,' you thought—how fitting.

You grab him by the hand. Come dance with me, Bradley.

He happily follows you to the dance floor and pulls you flush against him as your body moves against him.

His hands have a tight grip on your hips. You turn to face him and start singing along with the music. You don't miss how his fingers did into your flesh a little harder each time the word 'Daddy' leaves your mouth.

As the song finishes, you decide to push your luck. You lean up on your tip toes and whisper in his ear. "How about be get out of here, Daddy?"

You smirk as he grabs your hand to lead you to the exit.

"Did you drive?" He asks the moment you're out of the club.

"Ubered." You tell him. "I drove, fuck, follow me." He says.

Moments later, the two of you are standing by a classic blue Bronco. You don't even have time to admire it before he pushes you up against it and kisses you roughly.

It takes all of the willpower he has not to fuck you in the parking lot.

It takes him ten minutes to get back to his bungalow. He's undressing you the minute you get through the door.

Your clothes are strung haphazardly throughout his home. It's a miracle the two of you make it to the bed. But you do. Soon, he's got you laid out before him, and his face is buried between your legs.

He eats your pussy like it's his day job, all the while his hips rut into the mattress. He makes you cum twice on his tongue and fingers.

"Condom?" He asks as he prepares to fuck you.

"Clean. On the pill." You tell him.

"I'm clean too, fuck, you want me to hit it raw?" He growls.

"Yes, please, Daddy." You tell him with hooded eyes.

As he slides into you, you know exactly why they call him Rooster. He's huge in length and girth. He's splitting you open in the most delicious way.

He fucks into you hard, fast, and deep. He takes one of his large hands and presses it on your stomach. You can feel him in there.

"Fuck, you feel how deep I am?" He ask you. You nod your head. "You like feeling Daddy so deep in this tight, perfect little pussy?" He groans.

You whine out a response as he toys with your clit.

"You gonna cum again for me baby?" He asks you. "Yes, Daddy, close!" You moan out.

"Fuck, I can tell. Can feel you clenching so hard on me. That's it darlin, be a good girl and take Daddy's cock." He tells you. Soon, you're falling over the edge, screaming for him.

"Good girl, such a good girl." He praises you.

"Baby, I'm close, where do you want me to—" He asks but you cut him off before he can finish

"Cum in me! Fill me up, Daddy!" You moan out. You don't have to tell him twice. Rooster cums and fills you up with his spend.

He collapses on the bed next to you. After a few minutes, he gets a cloth to help you clean up. You try to get up to find your clothes, but he pulls you closer to him.

"Stay, I'll make pancakes in the morning." He tells you.

You know you shouldn't, but you stay anyway.

The next morning, he does make you pancakes. The two of you get to know each other all morning, and he asks to take you out on a proper date that night.

"I can't tonight. I have to babysit my niece and nephew, but I'm free tomorrow." You tell him.

He agrees. A few hours and several orgasms later, he's dropping you off at your apartment. You have just enough time to make it look like you haven't spent the day getting fuckeswithin an inch of your life before your sister shows up with her fiancée and kids.

The doorbell rings, and Catia and Cristiano run in to greet you. "Aunty Thena!" The cry as they both hug you. You laugh at the nickname. Your sister and her fiancée and almost all of their friends were aviators with callsigns. You didn't have one but were given the honorary callsign "Thena" after the goddess Athena by your future brother in law. He claimed it was because you were both wise and scary. Even though you were barely nineteen when her sneaky link turned into her baby daddy, you were still a force to be reckoned with and wise beyond your years.

But Coyote stepped up when Nat found out she was pregnant. Their casual hook ups turned into something serious. Your parents had wanted them to get married before the twins were born, but they didn't want to get married just because Natasha was pregnant.

You supported her through her pregnancy and their relationship. You had even helped him pick out the ring.

The both of you still laugh when he tells she story about why he and the kids call you Thena.

"Cat, Cris, please don't kill your aunt before she has a chance to watch you!" Coyote scolds them as he walks into your home.

"Javy, they are just excited to see her. It's been months since she last visited. Natasha tells him as she comes in.

"Hey, little sis!" She smiles as she comes to hug you. "I'm so glad you moved out here!"

"You just like that you have a free baby sitter now." You joke with her.

Coyote laughs and shrugs his shoulders.

"Now listen up terror twins." He addresses his children. You laugh at the nickname for them. It's funny because it's true. You and the twins have gotten into a few messes together. Catia, the oldest, was definitely the mastermind, while Cristiano was, more often than not, the unwilling accomplice.

"Your mom and I will be back in a few hours to pick you up. We have to finish a few wedding things. Be good for your Aunt Thena and listen to her. It will be good practice for when you start back to school and she is your teacher." Javy tells the kids.

Both of them promised to be on their best behavior. You wave goodbye to Nat and Javy. As soon as they are gone, you and the kids are ordering pizza and finding a movie to watch.

You're careful to make sure they don't see your phone and who you are texting.

.............................

You hadn't meant for it to go this far. After your first date with Rooster, you swore you were going to tell him who you were, but you liked the idea of keeping your relationship to yourself. You didn't want to hear what Nat had to say, but honestly, it wasn't any of her business. You were an adult.

The sex with Rooster was amazing, but he was a great boyfriend, too. These had been the best six weeks of your life.

You were currently lying in bed with him after a bit of afternoon delight.

"You really are the best partner that I've had Bradley. Most guys my age last like five minutes and don't even care if I cum. But not you. To be an old man, you sure can keep up." You tease him as you prop yourself up on his chest.

"I'm a Top Gun graduate, babe. The top 1% of Naval aviators in the entire fucking nation. Longevity and stamina are hard wired into me. Don't you know the reason why everyone wants a classic car now?" He asks you. You shake your head.

"Because they can keep their motor running for much longer." He smirks before rolling you onto your back for another round.

You were still in a post sex haze when you're phone went off.

"Shit!" You shouted and jumped up. "What?" Rooster asked you.

"I'm late! I'm supposed to meet my sister for some wedding stuff. I've got to go! I'll text you later!" You shout over your shoulder as you head out the door.

...........................

You and Natasha spent the evening working on some last-minute wedding plans. Once you were done, she suggested that you, her, and Coyote go out for drinks. His parents were keeping the twins for the weekend, so they wanted to take the chance to hang out without worrying about Cat and Cris.

You thought everything would be fine. You were wrong.

Everything was fine until you pulled into the Hard Deck and noticed a familiar blue Bronco. Shit. This wasn't good.

You tried your best to stay cool. You were attempting to fire off a text to Rooster, but Nat was pulling you towards the door.

She looped her arm in yours as she walked over to the group of pilots. You spotted Rooster and his Hawiian print shirt with them. His back was to you.

"Guys! This is my sister that I told you about!" Natasha announced proudly as she introduced you to the group. Everyone smiled and greeted you.

"Bradshaw! Say hi to my little sister!" Nat said, punching him in the shoulder. You didn't miss the color draining from his face when his eyes met yours.

You smirked at him as you introduced yourself.

..............................

The evening was awkward, to say the least. You didn't miss the glances Rooster kept sending you. You did your best to avoid him, but ultimately, both of you were sent on a drink run.

You walked up to the bar to order them, with him hot on your heels.

As soon as you'd ordered them, he grabbed your arm and spun you around.

"You're Nat's sister! How could you not tell me you were her sister?" Rooster whisper shouted at you, as the two of you waited for the drinks.

"It never came up and you never asked." You replied nonchalantly.

"She's going to kill me." He groaned.

"Don't worry, Daddy, I'll make sure she doesn't." You smirked at him.

"You can't call me that!" Rooster shushed you as he looked around to make sure no one was watching the two of you.

"Why not? You weren't complaining about it earlier today when I was face down and ass up and you were pulling my hair while fucking me into you mattress." You teased him. "In fact, I'm pretty sure you said 'oh baby, your tight pussy feels so good wrapped around Daddy's cock. Come on darlin cum for Daddy. Make a mess all over him.'"

Rooster turned as red as a beet. "Why didn't you tell me? We've been dating for six weeks!" Rooster stated.

"I was afraid you wouldn't like me anymore. I liked keeping you to myself. Once people know, they give their opinions, and they put their nose where it doesn't belong. Also, do you think Nat is going to be cool with this?" You tell him.

"She's going to kill me. She's going to cut my fuel lines, or she's going to use real guns during training. I'm so dead." Rooster shook his head.

Just then, Penny appeared with the tray of drinks for everyone. Rooster picked it up and turned towards you and sighed.

"Don't worry, baby, I promise we will figure this out. Just smile and nod until it's time to go home." You tell him. "Okay." He sighs.

"Now, let's go get these drinks to them before someone comes looking for us. Don't freak out, I promise I'll take extra good care of you tonight, Daddy, when I come over." You smirk at him.

Rooster shakes his head and follows you back to the group.

You were both too caught up in your conversation to notice a certain Weapons Systems Officer who had come to get more peanuts, and who had unfortunately overheard the end of your conversation.

"Well, well, well." Bob sighed. "This isn't going to be good."

Hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter!

Tag List: @dreamingathighaltitude @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mak-32 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @rosiahills22 @thedroneranger @roosterforme @withahappyrefrain @sebsxphia @afterglowsb-tch13 @emorychase @hecate-steps-on-me @roosterscock

#top gun maverick #cherrycola27 #top gun #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #rooster smut #rooster x reader #lt. bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #tgm fanfiction #tgm #tgm fic #tgm smut #top gun rooster #top gun smut #top gun 2

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lilbitdepressed27 · 1 year

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Tara/fem!Reader

Summary: You get kidnapped by ghost face

Warnings: torture but it doesn’t really go into detail, angst

WC; 5.1k

Author note: not proofread, English is not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes in advanced. hope you enjoy:)

"Tara I'll only be gone for the weekend. I'll be back Monday morning."

"But why can't I go with you."

"You have that exam tomorrow and you can't miss it. I'll be back before you know it." You zipped up your bag and turned around to see the adorable pouty of face of your best friend. You smiled and walked towards her.

"You won't even notice I'm gone. Plus didn't Mindy say she set you up on a date with someone?" You tried to hid the sadness in your voice at the mere thought of Tara going on a date with someone. You spent most of your friendship with Tara hiding your feelings from her. And you had to give your self credit. You were great at hiding your feelings.

"Ugh yes. She's setting me up with this guy from one of her classes." She rolled her eyes as she helped you with your bag. Packing the spare of glasses you had, she knew how you'd always tended to misplace them. "But I don't have to go. I haven't said yes. And I'd also rather spend my time with you. Your parents love me"

"I would like for you come with but Sam would probably kill me if you miss that final tomorrow. You can come with me next time." You offered ignoring the way your heart thumped in your ears at mention of her rather spending her time with you.

"I called you an Uber so you didn't have to take a taxi. And it's five minutes away." Quinn said as she stood next your open door. Leaning on the door as she smiled at you.

"Thanks Quinn. You didn't have t-Don't worry about it babe. You know you got a special place in my heart." You took a glance at Tara only to see her smile no longer there, replaced with a scowl as she looked at your guys roommate.

"Okay well thanks Quinn. I'll be down in a bit."

She smiled and winked at you, "It's a black SUV Cadillac." Then she walked away. Leaving you and Tara in what felt like awkward silence.

"Come on. Walk me out?"

"You sure you don't want Quinn to do that. You two have grown close." She spoke in an annoyed tone. Her eyes still starting at the spot where Quinn once stood.

"Tara." You sighed gently taking the your bag that Tara still held and slinging it over your shoulder. "Come on. I want you to walk me out." You held out your hand for her to take. You watched as her annoyance melted away, she took your hand and led you out of your room with a huff.

"Bye guys. I'll see on Monday. Where's Ethan?" You waved only to stop when your best friend wasn't in the room. You had met Ethan at the very start of the year and grew close, having the same hobbies. You two bonded for your shared love over video games.

"He said he had a study group he couldn't miss. He told me to tell you he'll miss you and to bring him something." Quinn spoke from her spot on the couch where she sat in between Chad and Anika. Sam and Mindy were in the kitchen making dinner.

"Bye Y/nn have a safe trip." Sam smiled sharing quick hug. She had known you for quite a while. She also cared deeply about you, seeing as she knew you from such a young age. She also knew how you were in love with her younger sister. She had promised not to say anything but she had tried to push you into telling her. Even going as far as trying to get her sister to tell you about her feelings. After the murders of Woodsboro 2022 not only had she become protective of her family. But so did you. Especially over Tara. She had watched how you watched over Tara after she was attacked. Going as far as staying at the hospital. She watched how you did everything in your power to make sure Tara was safe.

The rest of your friends said their goodbyes and you made your way out of the apartment with Tara. The short brunette kept your hand in hers as she lead you down the steps on to the side walk in front the of apartment complex. You saw the black SUV a man wearing a black yankee hat and a black face mask was in the driver seat with the passenger seat window down.

"For Y/n?"

"Yea that's me. Can I get a second?" You asked the man, he nodded and shot you a thumbs up.

"I don't want you to go." You heard Tara mumble as she leaned into the arm she was still holding.

"Tar it's only three days." You pulled her into a hug, she buried her face into your chest her arms wrapping tightly around your waist. You both stayed there for what felt like forever. Before pulling away. She looked up at you through her eyelashes.

"I'll always notice when you're gone." She said in a soft voice.

"I'll be back first thing Monday morning. I have to go. I'll be back before you know it." Without thinking you leaned down kissed the top of her head. You watched as her eyes widen and her cheeks turn pink. Yours for sure doing the same.

"Uh bye Tar."

You sat in the back of suv with your cheeks still feeling warm. You leaned back in the seat and looked down at your phone. The lock screen being of Tara and you at Disney land, Tara had the Mickey Mouse ears and you had your Goofy hat. Both of you smiling at the camera as Sam took the picture. The ping coming your phone notifying you of a new message

Tara: I miss you already :(

A smiled made its way on to your face. You opened the message and typed out response but before you can hit send. The driver spoke up.

"So Y/n, what's your favorite scary movie?"

You were snapped out of your thoughts, your head almost getting whiplash at how fast you looked at the driver.

"E-Excuse me? What did-Mmh!!" You were cut off by someone emerging from the back seat. You tried to fight him off only for you freeze momentarily when you saw who it was.

Ghostface.

He jumped over the seat making you unfreeze as you tried to fight him off. Your glasses flying off your face with punches you were receiving, making your vision impaired. The blurry figure of ghost face moved fast. The driver continued to drive like like nothing was wrong. You noticed that the ghostface didn't have his knife which had you confused but you didn't stop fighting. He punched you repeatedly. You were growing weaker by the second. With a final punch to your face you were knocked out.

As you came to, you felt the throb of pain shooting through out your skull. Your blurry vision in no way helping the pain in your head. The panic settled in when you remembered what happened. Ghostface was back.

"Wakey. Wakey Y/n. You don't want to miss all the fun. Do you?"

You registered that you were tied to chair and tape was covering your mouth. There were two ghost faces standing in front of you. You breathing became quicker as your eyes filled with tears.

You pulled on the restraints that held your wrists the handles of the chair. But the rope that had you tied down only tighten the more you moved. One of the figures moved towards, you tried to move away from the knife he held but it was no use.

You couldn't do anything but cry in pain when the knife was brought down.

I miss you already :(

Read 5:39pm

Three hours passed since you left and Tara kept looking at her phone. You had yet to respond to her message, you clearly read it she had seen the bubbles appear. Meaning you were going to respond but the message never came. It wasn't like you to not respond. She sat back in her seat, her friends and herself had a movie night and she couldn't take her mind off you.

"I'm sure she'll answer once she gets off the plane. You know how paranoid she gets when she's on a plane. Phone is in airplane mode and her headphones on full blast. Swear that girl says hates planes cause of final destination but still gets on them." Chad joked as he ate the popcorn Sam had made.

"Oh my god remember when there was turbulence on flight here?" Mindy laughed at the thought of how scared you were. Tara couldn't help but giggle.

"Man who knew she had such a strong grip. Swear my hand hasn't been the same since." Chad shook his hand that you once had in a death grip. He remembered how much it hurt. But you had been so scared, and he wanted to comfort his best friend.

"Chad you literally had tears in your eyes." Mindy laughed even harder. "That's what you get for stealing Tara's seat."

Tara finally relaxed in her seat, she knew exactly how you get when you'd go on a plane. By the time she wakes up Friday morning she'd have a text from you.

When she woke the first thing she did was reach for her phone. Expecting a text from you but when she saw that she had no notification from you she sat up. Her concern coming in ten fold. She pressed on your contact and waited for you to pick up your phone.

"Hey this is Y/n sorry I can't get to the phone right now. Please leave a message after the-Hey just wanted to know if you got home safe. Call me when you get a chance."

It has been approximately 15 hours since you left. The flight was only going to be a six hour flight. You had more than enough time to text her back.

"Still no response?"

Tara looked up from her phone to see her sister standing at the door way of her room. Tara went to respond when her phone binged. Her eyes snapping to the phone in her hand.

Y/nn<3: hey sorry I didn't call. I crashed as soon as I got home and my phone was dead when I got home. My parents say hi but I can't really talk right now. I'll call as soon as I can. Good luck on the exam today. I know you'll do great :) ps I miss you more <3

Tara smiled letting her shoulders drop and the concern she felt before wash away.

Okay call me when you get a chance and tell your parents I said hi as well. Ps not possible I miss you way more

"Great she responded, now get ready for school. You have an exam today." With that Tara got ready for the day. The day would be a long one since you weren't there with her.

After the fight with her sister Tara had dropped in her bed with a deep sigh. She hated fighting with her sister. But sometimes Sam was just a bit over protective. It was something that she understood but if annoyed her just the same.

She wanted nothing more than to have you here. You were not even gone for a day and she missed you way too much already.

You had felt pain before. You were stabbed the year before by Sam's crazy boyfriend. He only got to stab you once before you got the upper hand and kicked his knee in. But this pain. It was a type of pain that had your vision go dark, but then it felt like lights in this old place seem way too bright.

"You will the same pain you made him feel."

The voice behind the mask said. You didn't have the slightest clue on what he was talking about. From the lights you could see you noticed that one of figures was shorter than the other two. It's exactly what you needed, there were three of them.

"-Okay. You're alibis check out. You're friends as well. You have another roommate correct? Y/n Y/ln." Detective Bailey said as he sorted out his paperwork that was in front of him.

"Yea but she left to visit family for the weekend." Tara said leaning forward. Not understanding why the detective was bringing you up. You were no where near New York to be brought up and she was grateful. That she knew you were safe and nowhere ear this again.

"A flight to California is that right?"

"Yes, why are you bringing her up. She's not even in the same state right now?" Sam stared down the detective.

"How well do you know Ms.Y/ln?"

"Since grade school. Now tell us what does Y/n have to do with this." Tara demanded to know.

"Her dna was found in the bodega. Y/n never arrived at the airport, she wasn't on flight Thursday afternoon. So I ask again. How well do you know her?"

"W-What? No no she texted me said that she was already in California. She wouldn't lie to me." The young Carpenter rejected the mere thought of you wanting to kill Sam, your friends, her. No you wouldn't.

Right?

"Well then where is she Sam. I just got off the phone with her mom. They haven't seen her. She wasn't on the plane heading back home." Tara paced in the safety of her living room. After being attacked they settled in their apartment. They searched your room for any sign of where you could be but came up empty handed. Everyone had tried to call you but you never answered your phone. It would go straight to voicemail.

With all blame for the murders not only falling on Sam's shoulders but yours as well. The situation was becoming even more stressful.

"I don't know Tara. I don't know."

The five in the room jumped at the sound of Tara's phone ringing. They looked at her phone and saw the contact picture of you popping up. Tara wasted no time to answer the phone.

"Y/n! Where the hell are you-Oh Tara, you dumb little thing. Y/n isn't here or maybe she is and she's been stringing you along. Or maybe I'm Y/n. It wouldn't be the first time someone you love tries to kill you, now would it."

"Y/n wouldn't do this."

"You sure about that."

Tara looked down at the phone when ghostface hung up. Everything in her was telling her that you would never do this to her. You wouldn't. But there was little part of her that was telling her that it was true.

"Hey we've known Y/n since we were babies. She loves you too much to do this. No, there has to be a different explanation for why ghostface has her phone." Chad said in not believing for one second you could be part of this deranged persons team.

"Wait doesn't-Guys, what the hell."

The four walked out of the kitchen, towards the living room where Anika turned up the volume. The five watched how the blame for the murders where placed on Sam and Y/n. And how Sam almost attacked a girl the night before. How the murders of Woodsboro 2022 were also blamed on Sam. They watched how the reporter not only victimized Richie but dragged Sam's and Y/n's name as well.

Sam took the control away from Anika and turned off the tv. She stormed away and sat the kitchen table.

The three teens watched how Tara tried her best to comfort her sister. Trying to push the worry she felt for you aside.

The five in room not aware of the danger lurking in the room across the hall.

The throbbing pain coming from your knee was becoming worse. One of the ghost faces had broken your knee. They had the cut you and beat you but the worst pain of it all was the knee.

"Are you ready Y/n. You won't believe it but your group of friends has become unfortunately small."

"Leave them alone you bitch! I'll kill you. I'll-You won't do anything. Want to know why. Cause when they find you. You will be dead. Just another name added to my list. But don't worry. They'll see your final moments after all."

You didn't know they had been recording, but all you cared for was your friends. Tara. You felt your eyes fill with tears. You hated not being there for her or Sam. You only hoped that they were okay.

You could only hope.

The group watched how all the ghost face costumes were on display. They had made it an abandoned movie theater. All the evidence collected from past attacks.

"What's in the box? It's huge." Ethan walked up towards the wooden large box. "You think we could get it open?" He looked around trying to find something to open the box with. "I mean we don't know where Y/n is. She could be behind th-Don't you fucking dare." Tara stared daggers at the taller boy.

"I'm just saying Tara. Has anyone seen or heard from her? She's gone completely M.I.A. I love her but it's weird. The cops can't find her, her parents don't know where she's at. And to top it all off she goes missing the day the killings start. The knifes go missing from the kitchen, a kitchen Y/n used frequently. It's-Stop talking Ethan." This time it was Sam that cut him off. Sam loved you dearly, she had known you since you were a kid. You were too sweet of a kid to do something like this.

But the question still stood. Where were you.

"You know you always had a special spot in my heart."

The words rang through your head. Your blurry vision became cleared when the figure put something on your face. Your eyes widen in disbelief at who was standing in front of you. They had taken off their mask and were now just standing there.

Quinn.

She swung the pipe hitting you in the head before you could actually say anything.

You weren't sure how much time passed. When you woke up you were somewhere dark. You couldn't see anything. You could still feel the cloth tide over your mouth, the pain coming from the side of your head. But now you could also feel something covering your whole face. You could barely feel the your leg and you were afraid on what that could mean.

You could faintly hear muffled voices. And then gunshots. Making you flinch at the loud noise. You heard noises around you and then suddenly, light that you were able to see through the bag since it wasn't that thick.

"We have a few more surprises for you both actually. It was so easy. Having the blame not only on Sam but also her."

You felt someone touch your shoulder making you flinch harder than before. The bag than lifted from your head making squint your eyes a bit at the bright lights. You wheezed out, when they roughly grabbed you by the hair making you look up.

"Y/n?!"

At the sudden voice your eyes connected to the deep brown eyes that you loved so much. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to get to you.

"Q-Qui-Now Now don't spoil the surprise." You watched as Sam and Tara's eyes widen at the site of you. They looked at the person behind you gasped when you only assumed that they took off their mask.

"Mindy was right." You looked up only to a person you considered a best friend. Heart breaking when Ethan ranted about killing Chad. "I mean it was fun. But it was more fun torturing you." You hissed when he pulled your hair harder, head tilted back as he taunted you with the knife.

"Get away from her." Tara lunged forward but was stopped by Sam. She cried at the sight of you. You were covered in blood, cuts, bruises. And she could see how bad you leg looked.

"Speaking of Families. My name isn't Ethan Landry. Is it dad?"

"Dad?"

"Hey roomies. You didn't see that one coming " Quinn smiled evilly. A chuckle escaped her mouth at the shocked expressions on the Carpenters sister's face.

You watched as they argued, Ethan..or what ever his name was no longer behind you. While they did their monologue, you tried to use this time to escape the ropes. The little fight you had left growing just a bit, when the three insane killers circled the two sisters. You had known that they were going to avenge their dead brother. You didn't know that it was Richie they were talking about. You looked to your side to faintly see a blonde woman crawling towards you.

She slowly and quietly cut the ropes tying your legs. Careful not to touch your bad leg. She then moved to your wrists. Slipping something medal in your hands.

"Hide it. I'm gonna try to distract them. Oh and here figured these could help. They're broken but it'll have to do." Kirby put the glasses on your face. She had found them laying around. She knew they belonged to you the moment she saw them. She has seen the pictures of you and your friends. The frames being way too similar for them not to be yours. The glass was cracked and scratched.

You tried to move but you had to stop at the pain coming from your leg. Your head snapping up when you heard gun shots. You watched as the detective was shot, Quinn was hit in the face with a brick by Tara. Who then tried to run towards you but was tripped when a hand grabbed her ankles.

"Tara! Sam!" Sam looked up from stabbing Ethan, towards you. She then moved to you. Stopping when you shook your head, "Help Tara, I can't move. Here." You threw her the gun Kirby gave you. She looked uncertain of leaving you but with a yelp coming from her sister she turned and ran towards her.

You attempted once again to move. Using the arm rests of the chair to pull yourself up. Biting your lip at the pain coursing through your body. From the corner of your eye you saw the detective get up, picking up his gun and then aiming at Tara and Sam. You had failed to notice that they had made it on the top balcony. You could only watch as Tara dangled from the top, Sam trying her best to pull her back up. Ethan was just below Tara swiping his knife at her. You limped your way to him. Using anything to to put your weight on. Picking up the a pipe on the way. Once you were right behind him you swung it as hard you can, Tara falling at the same moment. With the force of the swing causing you fall. Tara used the knife Sam gave her to stab Ethan through the mouth.

"Now die a fucking virgin."

"Baby." She quickly shifted toward you. Cupping your cheeks as she cried. Looking over your body at the damage done by people she trusted. "Oh y/n. You're going to be okay. Just-just keep your eyes open."

"Tara...y-you're bleeding."

Letting a tearful chuckle the brunette wiped your tears away. "So are you dumbass."

With a painful laugh you reached up wiping her tears away. "I m-missed you." You mumbled, your eyes growing heavy by the second. The energy you once had fading away. The exhaustion from the passed days coming to in waves.

"No no keep your eyes open. Come on baby. Look at me. Please."

Both of you flinching at the sound of glass and wood breaking. You moved your head slightly to see Sam and Quinn's dad on the floor.

"Go-go help her."

"You keep your fucking eyes open. You hear me. Please keep them open. I'll be right back." She leaned down kissing you the lips. Even in this light when she pulled away from you, you saw the blush on her cheeks. You cracked a smile at the sight.

"Yes ma'am."

Tara had been pissed when she returned to you to find you unconscious. Worried but pissed. So angry that she bursted into tears. Sam had to pull her away from your body letting the paramedics help you. Sam had watched as they rushed you away. Sam held Tara tighter as her sister tried to get to you. Her arm burning as she held her younger sister.

Now they sat in the waiting room. Waiting for any news on you and Chad. They both had gotten stitches on their wounds. Mindy and Danny sat with them. Sidney had called them to make sure they were alright. At the news that they were alright Sidney was on the next flight to New York. The older woman wanted to be there but she also had her own family to look after.

"Family of Y/n Y/ln and Chad Meeks Martin?"

The four shot up from their seats. "Please tell me they're okay." Tara begged, tears streaming down her cheeks

"Yes. They'll pull through."

The group of friends cheered tears of joy and pure relief. Danny pulled the three girls in a big bear hug. The three woman cried in the mans chest.

"The good news for Mr.Meeks is that the knife missed all the vital organs. He'll make a speedy recovery once all the stitches are out." The group nodded taking every word in. Thankful that Chad would be alright.

"Ms.Y/ln on the other hand and multiple cuts and bruises. She has minor concussion as well. But that's not what we were worried about. When Ms.Y/ln was brought her left leg was in horrible shape. Her knee was broken for at least two days. When she was brought in it was deeply infected due to the lack of treatment. Due to the infection, it had stopped blood flow to the that leg. Which caused what we call tissue death..requiring an amputation."

The bright lights form the ceiling were the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. You felt nauseous, dizzy and numb all around. It felt like you couldn't move. The pain you once felt, you barely feel now. The more you came to, the more you realized that you were on a hospital. You also now felt a hand holding yours. It was warm and small. You recognized the hand instantly. Looking towards the direction of the hand, a small smile made its way to your face at what you saw. She was bit blurry due to you not having your glasses, but nevertheless she was still beautiful. You could tell that she was sleeping and not knowing what she's been through, you didn't want to wake her.

"Hey, you're awake." You heard the older Carpenter's voice. You turned to the sound of her voice and saw her figure standing by the bed. You saw her dig in her bag, pulling out a black box.

You smiled when she put on your spare glasses. "Thanks Sammy."

She chuckled and shook her head. "You're welcome. Now how are you feeling?" She realized that you haven't noticed that your leg wasn't, well there. And she didn't know how to tell you. She looked at her sister who was still asleep. For the past 24 hours that you've been unconscious Tara did not want to leave your side. Sam didn't want to leave her sister so she had Danny go to her place and pack them a change of clothes and other things they could possibly need. She knew she could trust him. He had tried so hard to make sure they were all okay.

"I'm feel a little sore and loopy but other than that I feel okay." You whispered back. "What about you guys. Are you guys okay?"

"Everyone is okay. Chad is a floor down with Mindy. Hell pull through. Tara and I are fine just a few stitches and bruises. You just focus on yourself. I'm going go get a doctor. I'll be right back. I'm so glad you're okay." She leaned down and kissed the top of your head. You offered a small smile. Your mind hazy from the drugs pumping into your blood stream.

"Hey you're awake." At the sound of the sudden voice. You looked at Tara who was now wide awake. She looked at you with tears in her eyes. The relief shown in her face at sight of you awake. "Thank god you're awake. I was so scared." She held your hand tightly as she brought it up to her lips.

"I'm-Ms.Y/ln you're awake. How are you feeling?" The doctor came in with a smile as he looked at you. Sam was close behind him as she moved to stand behind Tara.

"Sore, a little loopy. My leg kinda hurts but it's more of a sting." Your hand moved to touch your left leg but was stopped by Tara. You furrowed your eyebrows at her and she didn't meet your eyes.

"Y/n, you had a broken knee from what we saw the broken bone was left untreated for quite awhile. It was left unclean which led to an infection, this caused blood flow to stop traveling to your knee. Ms.Y/ln we had to amputate your left leg due to the dead tissue-"

You sat up ignoring the pain at the movement. The stitches on your stomach pulling. The three in front of you tried to stop you but couldn't. The doctor called for a nurse to get a sedative. Your eyes widen in shock and horror when you pulled back the blanket to see the leg stump. You could faintly hear the heart monitor connected to you pick up. Then followed a tiny sting coming from your arm. You looked to your side to see a nurse, you looked back at Tara who looked at you with so much guilt and sadness. Your world faded once again.

Tara stood as she watched as you fall in to unconsciousness. She knew things wouldn't be the same for you. She knew that it'd take time for you to heal mentally and physically.

She planned to be by your side throughout the journey.

***

#tara carpenter x reader #fem!reader #tara carpenter #scream

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drewsbuzzcut · 1 year

Text

I Can See You

nico hischier x hughes!reader

warnings: slight slight angst, alcohol consumption, and I think that’s all

Coming to New Jersey to visit Luke and Jack is starting to feel like a big mistake that’s about to blow up in your face.

Nico just has to be with them when you arrived at their apartment.

Nico just has to join the three of you for dinner.

Nico just has to join the three of you at a small bar that Jack likes.

Throughout the entire day you can feel his eyes on you, the goosebumps on your skin is proof. There was one point he tried to get you alone to talk, but you escaped into Luke’s room.

You’re angry. Plain and simple.

He made it seem like he had feelings for you. It’s not like he doesn’t have your number or your social media profiles. He just decided to leave you high and dry. You’d like at least an explanation or an apology.

You down your third drink of the night when you feel his body sidle next to yours. His cologne makes you dizzy in the best way possible, but it makes you angrier.

“Can I get a beer?” He asks the bartender, slowly turning towards you on the barstool.

“Y/n?” You can hear the caution laced in his words.

He reaches for your hand that’s resting on the bar top, you pull it away before he can grasp it.

“Leave me alone, Nico,” you say his name, no “cap” or “captain” that he loves so much.

“Please talk to me, y/n,” he begs. Desperation washing over his face. You think you see sadness in his eyes.

“Oh, so now you want to talk. You’ve had months to talk to me. A call or even a simple text would’ve sufficed,” you spit out, removing yourself from the barstool.

Nico follows you, reaching out to grab your hand to turn you towards him.

“Tell my brothers I have to leave,” you say, ripping your hand away.

“Let me take you home,” he suggests.

“No. I don’t want anything from you anymore. Leave me alone, Nico,” you finish, walking away and out the door.

You’re sitting on a curb outside when you hear the door opening, with everything in your body you know it’s Nico.

“Please let me explain myself. You can hate me all you want, but please let me explain,” he sits next to you, feeling hopeful when you don’t move away.

“We should talk somewhere private,” you whisper, berating yourself for giving in so easily, but you’d do almost anything for Nico.

Nico agrees and you and him take an Uber to his apartment. The ride is tense and quiet, but you can still feel his eyes watching you. The ride in the elevator is even more tense, the space tight and suffocating. You can feel a gravitational pull working overtime to pull you into each other’s arms. When you catch his eyes, you send him a glare in return. He can’t know that you’re starting to let your walls come down.

As soon as he lets you in through the door, he’s talking.

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you at all for so long.”

“I just want to know why.”

“You’re younger than me,” he says but you scoff at his lie.

“3 years is nothing,” you retort.

“It’s a lot when things get complicated. I’m not always around as you know, and the age gap will just further complicate things. We’re at different places in our lives.”

“That’s such bullshit. I know what it’s like with all the travel! Three! Three of my brothers are hockey players in case you forgot,” you point out.

He huffs and stays quiet which frustrates you to no end.

“You know what? Why’d you even want to talk to me if you’re not even going to bother being honest?” Your anger starts to boil.

“You’re Jack’s little sister. You’re also Luke’s sister, and I’m their captain. It’s like mixing business with pleasure. At the end of the day, you’re younger than me and my teammates’ sister,” he finally explains.

“Okay? Is there some written rule stating that you can’t date a teammate’s sister?” You’re livid.

“Well, no, but it’s implied,” he mutters, fidgeting with his fingers, something you noticed he does when he’s nervous.

“So screw me and my feelings, right? You just kissed me for the hell of it, then? I’m just someone’s sister and you’re just untouchable. I hate you,” you blurt out, your tears surfacing and heart dying little by little.

“No, please! You don’t understand,” he reaches out for you, holding your hands in his.

“I understand you loud and clear.”

“I want you, more than you know. I just don’t want things to become weird between me and your brothers. I also really happen to enjoy our friendship. I don’t want to somehow ruin things even though I already have,” he admits.

You have to stop yourself from leaping into his arms and attacking him with kisses. You need to be in his arms.

“Why not tell me that earlier?” You ask, trying to mask your tone with annoyance, but you can deny that you have the biggest soft spot for him.

“I didn’t want to pull you away from your life. You deserve someone who’s always there. I won’t always be there for you,” he says sadly and you can feel your heart crack at his admittance. You want so badly to reassure that he’d be the perfect boyfriend, but in reality you don’t know him as a boyfriend. Maybe he’s trying to shield you from himself when intimacy starts to take over.

At this time you realize your hands are still connected, so you pull them away and watch his face fall.

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to hurt you,” he adds.

You card your fingers through your hair and take a deep breath. You look down and around, anywhere except his eyes. You know he’s sincere. You can tell by his watery eyes and the crease in his eyebrows. You feel the lump in your throat just thinking about him being sad. You also think about why he thinks of himself so poorly. Maybe this is happening for a reason. Maybe you should be nothing more than a kiss, but when you think about Nico, you know in your heart that you want to feel everything with him.

“I accept your apology, but it’s too late Nico. I would’ve loved to hear you say what you just did months ago. Now, I have a boyfriend back in New York,” it kills you to say, but you want him to feel that empty feeling that you felt for the past 7 months. It may be a bit immature of you, but you needed to see what his reaction would be.

“Oh… that’s… yeah, that’s stupid of me to think everything would be just fine after all this time. Good for you, though. You deserve happiness and I hope he treats you better,” he says through voice cracks.

“Um… I’ll take you back to your brother’s,” he finishes, walking past you towards the front door.

“Cap,” you whisper, reaching out for his bicep to stop him from walking out the door. Any thought you have in your head gets washed away by the one thought that resides in your heart. You want him and you are willing to take your chances.

He turns back to you, about to ask what’s wrong when you place your lips on his. You bring him into your body with your arms wrapped around his neck. He can’t help but let his hands fall to your hips.

“What about your boyfriend?”

You snicker, hiding your face in his neck.

“I may have lied about having a boyfriend. I just wanted to keep you on your toes,” you admit shyly.

Nico sighs in relief, leaning back in for another kiss. You giggle into the kiss, very pleased with his reaction. You card your fingers through his hair, making his hands fist the material of your blouse.

“How are we going to do this?” He breaks away, finally taking a breath.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“We can’t tell them, not right now at least,” he hesitantly whispers, afraid to break the moment.

You falter for a second, thinking about how telling your brothers can possibly ruin things, so you agree with him.

“Okay, captain. It’s our little secret,” you say simply, but it’s anything but simple.

He caresses your cheek and you know he is starting to figure out his way through the cracks of your tough exterior.

“I should probably get back to the apartment. Take me home?” You ask, kissing his lips chastely.

“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

Take me to your heart.

a/n: So, I forgot that I was supposed to post this piece before the one I recently posted, but here it is! Enjoy!

#nico hischier #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier fanfic #nico hischier x hughes!sister #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier fluff #nico hischier fanfiction #nico hischier fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nj devils

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yelenasdiary · 10 months

Note

I love sibling focs!! Maybe it’s the only child in me that feels the comfort in these anyways….

Can you do a reader x Kelly Foster one where we are her younger sister -but in our teens- and she wants us to starts helping out around the zoo with the animals but we’re not the biggest fan of it and would rather spend the day with our friends instead. If somehow or someway you can add in some angst that would be amazing but ends with fluff

I’m not the greatest at sending in ideas but something along this would be cool but feel free to change it up if you want!!

Arguments & Ugly Trees

Pairing: Kelly Foster x Younger Sibling! Reader

Summary: Kelly struggles to get you to help more around the zoo, especially around the holidays.

Warnings: Angst/Comfort, No Warnings | 1K

AC: Been so long since I wrote for Kelly! Enjoy x

Holiday Special Masterlist

"Come on! Get up!" Your older sister, Kelly, repeats herself as you feel the heavy blow from her throwing a throw pillow at you. "Go away!" You mumbled, your eyes barely opened wide enough to look at the time but a faint 5 told you it was way too early for you to be awake.

"You promised you'd help today, let's go! There's a lot to do before opening" Kelly reminds you. Of course you made the promise unintentionally just to get her off your back so you could hang out at the mall with your friends. Growing up on a zoo had its perks, as a child you loved it and grew close to the animals but as you grew older and into your teens, the zoo lost interest for you. Kelly knew this would happen eventually, she just wished she had a little more time before your teenage hormones kicked in and suddenly you couldn't stand to be around her anymore.

"Kelly! Go away!" You snapped once your older sister pulled the covers off you, exposing you to the coldness of an early morning. You heard her loudly sigh with disappointment before the loud slam of your door closing added to her anger. Within a few short seconds you were asleep once again while your sister picked up your slack around the zoo.

By 10am you were up, dressed and waiting on the porch of the small cottage you shared with Kelly. You had plans to meet your friends in town at 10:30 for the day, well you did.

"You might want to text your Uber and cancel" you heard Kelly's voice as she came walking up the path.

"Why would I do that? I have plans" you frowned.

"You haven't heard? There's a snowstorm coming. Everything is closed, you would've known sooner if you were up when I asked" she stopped in front of you, her hands on her hips as you rolled your eyes. "Go get changed into something a little more work friendly, it's all hands on deck. We've gotta make sure the animals are secure before the storm hits" she adds.

"Seriously?! This is bullshit!" You grumbled as you turned on your heels and stormed into the house to change. A sigh left Kelly's lips as she mentally prepared herself for the attitude, she knew you'd be giving her.

——

Fixing fence after fence with a loud sigh and yet another eye roll, Kelly couldn't take it anymore.

"What is your problem?" She snapped, throwing the hammer to the ground. "What? I'm doing what you asked!" You turned to her with a frown.

"I don't know what to do with you anymore, you're never happy to do anything around here and honestly, sometimes I think you even hate looking at me and I'm sorry that living on a zoo is so problematic for you but give me a god damn break for once! All the eye rolls, the sighs, the grumbles, it's getting old!" Your sister went on. Her sudden outburst took you by surprise, even reminding you as to why you began to lose interest in the zoo.

"I'm doing my best with what we have here! A little thank you doesn't hurt!" She went on, bringing your attention back to the argument. "J-just go back home, I don't need your help"

You could see the hurt in her eyes as she let them fall to the hammer on the ground, maybe you were being a selfish little brat and forgot just how much Kelly does for you but she also forgot something along the years.

"You care more about this zoo than me" you replied in a soft tone. Kelly instantly looked back at you, "why would you say that?" She asked. "Because it's true, you forgot that in your sister, not some other zoo hand that you can boss around. We never get time together anymore and when we did try to make plans, you bailed because something more important came up" you explained with honesty, letting all your built up emotions pour out. "Christmas is literally like two weeks way and we still haven't even put up the tree, it's just sitting in the living room in a box…Christmas used to be our thi-"

Your words were cut short as Kelly pulled you into her arms the moment she saw the tears pooling at your eyes. "Shhh, I know" she whispered as you wrapped your arms around her. She held you until your tears came to a stop, you pulled away and wiped your wet cheeks on the sleeve of your jacket. "Can we make a new rule?" Kelly asked, her hands still on your forearms.

"I need to help out more, I know" you replied.

"No" she shook her head, "promise me you'll talk to me instead of letting things bottle up like this? I'm not a mind reader you know" she added. You chuckled at her joke and nodded, "only if you promise to we can finally put the tree up" you raised a brow at her playfully.

"Let's get this job done and we'll call it a day, go inside and out the tree up" she smiled softly.

——

"It looks terrible!" You chucked before taking a much-needed sip of your hot chocolate as you watched Kelly put the star on top of the Christmas tree. The tree looked like a mess, fairy lights still slightly tangled up, the two of you too unbothered to make everything perfect.

"I think it's" Kelly paused as she stood back and took in the sight of the tree, "unique" she added chewing her bottom lip. "Let's just remember to turn the lights off before we go to bed, the last thing we need is the house burning down" she joked as she took a seat beside you on the sofa, reaching for her hot chocolate from the coffee table.

"So, tell me, should I be worried your dating yet?" She asked after sipping her drink. You playfully slapped her arm, "between you, school and the zoo, what makes you think I have time?"

Kelly smiled at you before resting her head on your shoulder while the two of you admired the ugly Christmas tree. "It'll always be just us kiddo, against everything" she spoke softly to assure you that you never lost your sister. Sometimes things go unsaid and you made a promise to yourself to never let distance grow between you both ever again.

#yelenasdiary asks #anon #fanfiction #kelly foster #kelly foster x reader #christmas

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thesuperiorrobin · 2 months

Text

How do I get my parents to let me drive so that I can get my drivers license. (Mind you my permit expires in two weeks)

And for the past two years neither of them has taken me out. Which is funny bc every time my sister, who is one year younger her then me, ask they always do it. She’s clearly the favorite cause like WTH . (She also has gotten her driver license already which is embarrassing)

I’ve done things like taking my sisters chores so that they can say yes so they can take me out their practice but they always have an excuse not to take me out.

And like at this point I’ve been asking my friend to take me out to drive instead, which is something I shouldn’t be doing but it’s the always way I can learn at this point.

Yesterday was probably the first time my dad has taken me out to drive for an hour, which was probably the worst hour of my life bc he’s yelling at me half the time telling me I should have learn how to drive in drivers ED, which I did but I only learned the basic and for the first semester of that class I only drove a total of 6 times. My dad told me to remind him after work the next day (today) so he can take me out and an hour after he got home I reminded him and all of a sudden he’s yelling at him telling me why I didn’t ask my mom to take me, the same women who hates driving with new drivers in the car so i didn’t even bother asking again cause I didn’t want to get yelled at again.

I’m juts trying to get it so that I can drive myself to college and back home bc I know my parents won’t even take me and I’ll be stuck spending most of my money on an Uber.

I know this is long rant and I’m sorry if your expecting an update , but I’m getting tired of the double standards here and I need help.

#🗡️miatalks🗡️

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somejazzinthemorning · 2 years

Text

tightrope. 02

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Original Female Character Warnings: Language Word Count: 10.329 Previous chapter: 01.

“It’s nice to have you at home, mija.”

My mom picked us up at the airport and now, driving home, sunglasses over her eyes and a classy beige jumpsuit accentuating her figure, I could tell she was happy and at peace. Rio had fallen asleep in the back seat, his snoring almost as loud as the radio, and I distracted myself with my phone, posting photos from the previous day's celebrations on my Instagram. Her voice brought me back to the present.

"It's nice to be home," I smiled at her. The sunset was casting a beautiful golden shadow on her face, illuminating the wrinkles around her green eyes and lips painted in a delicate shade of pink. "And I'm so excited about your birthday party!”

She looked at me for the fraction of a second, her eyes widening. “Really?”

“Is that so surprising? It's not every day my mom turns 60 looking this pretty. Of course, I'm excited!”

She laughed, a sweet reaction to my flattery. I wasn’t lying. She was pretty.

Blonde hair cut in a bob, light make-up (but always wearing make-up), delicate voice, always so soothing. Ageing had always been something that scared me, something I was not prepared to face. But looking at her, and seeing how naturally she embraced the passing of time, planning a grand celebration to welcome a new decade, I began to look at the concept of ageing with a newfound perspective. She wore her age like a badge of honour.

"About that," she extended her right hand to my tight, patting it repeatedly to make sure my attention remained on her. "I'm counting on you to help me until you have to go back to Italy."

"Sure, I..." I lay my phone down on my lap, my mind wandering over my mental calendar, recalling all the tasks I had to take care of. "I have some work things to handle, but sure," I said with a nod.

“Great,” she said, focused on the road. "The first item on the agenda is tomorrow's brunch.”

“I thought we had the catering settled?” I asked, feeling a bit confused.

“We do, honey. We’re going shopping with Reyes and the girls afterwards, I need to pick a dress and it’s an amazing excuse to meet up again. Plus, it’s at that cute little bakery you adore.”

“Oh, I—,” I couldn’t say no. “Let’s do it, then.”

Madrid was looking beautiful that morning, a living postcard. The sun was shining brightly, casting its rays on the buildings and busy streets below, almost as if to welcome me back. Work and racing made me spend far too much time away.

As soon as we stepped out of the Uber, the smell of pastries and fresh coffee invaded my senses. In a pink, flowy dress, my mom rushed across the street and I followed suit. Under the big sign on the door, where one could read "El Retiro" in big, bold letters, Reyes waited with her arms open; Ana and Blanca were by her side, distracted in a conversation.

“I hope we didn’t make you wait for too long,” my mom said, already wrapped in her arms, in the interval of kissing both of Reyes’ cheeks.

"Not at all," the woman, about the same age as my mom, said as she turned to me. It had been a couple of months since I last saw her. "It's so nice to see you, my love.”

I stepped in for a hug, comforting and homey, just like all the things and people in Madrid. Reyes stroked my back with her hand, up, down, and up again, just like Carlos used to do. They were too much alike, and yet, not at all, at the same time. I blinked, forcing the idea of him to vanish from my mind. It was not the time or place to think about him.Blanca was next in line, but Ana, the younger sister, was already beaming at me when I stepped away from Reyes. Her arms were outstretched, ready to embrace me in a hug. It had been since the previous Christmas that I had seen her, when we had met up with a group of mutual friends for a night out in the city.

“Oh, I've missed you so much,” she said in a whisper, before planting a kiss on my cheek and pulling me into a hug.

“I've missed you too,” I replied in a whisper, before turning to greet Blanca. “We need to plan something.”

As I remembered from the last time, the place was small and cosy. The decoration, a mix of vintage and modern with a lot of wood and plants, gave the place a natural and warm feeling. We headed outside, to the terrace, accompanied by a young girl with long curly hair who would be our waitress. She sat us at one of the tables under a pergola covered in vines, which the small breeze made rustle.

“How’s work?” Reyes asked. “You’re still working with that communication agency, right?”

“Oh, yes. Trying to balance both things,” I said as I sat next to Ana. My mom was in front of me and Reyes at the other side. Blanca sat at the end of the table, between her mother and sister.

“How’s that working out for you?” Blanca asked.

“Tough, as you may imagine,” I replied. “I’m still learning in both fields, so most of the time I just feel a little lost.”

I laughed off the discomfort the reality brought me. There is nothing like doing what I love the most; there's no feeling like what I feel when I strip my work clothes and get dressed in my race suit, transforming into someone else. But that doesn't mean it isn't overwhelming.

Ana turned her body to me before speaking. “I saw the season is going amazing.”

“It is,” I nodded. The image of Carlos in my garage suddenly appeared in my mind. “Two races left, but I can win the championship if I get a podium in the next race and Pulcini doesn't win.” They had great smiles on their face, hearing what I had to say. “Maybe I’ll have a pretty trophy to show you when I get back from Imola.”

“Wouldn't that be amazing?” My mother's tender voice brought a big smile to my face. “I'm so proud of you, Evita.”

“Thanks, Mama.” I placed my hand on hers and caressed it while blowing her a kiss.

The conversation flowed easily as if no time had passed since our last gathering. The warmth of their presence and the nostalgia that weighed on every word we shared was palpable.

Without realizing it, I had isolated myself from these women who had supported me throughout my adolescence and helped shape me into the woman I am today. I had acted out of fear of being misunderstood, or of being forced, even unintentionally, to quickly heal the bitterness I felt towards Carlos. But looking at them, at the smiles they exchanged and the ease with which they could make each other laugh, I realized that, in some way or another, these women were my family.

My attention was brought back to the conversation when I heard his name. My mother's plate had been pushed aside, and in its place was a small notebook.

“So Carlos is coming?” Her pen hovered above his name, highlighted in pink. Pink for family. Orange for friends. Green for colleagues. Carlos' name was in pink. “That makes me so happy, I miss having that sweet boy around.”

I didn't even have time to think about the implications of Carlos in a nice suit walking around my backyard before Blanca's eyes drifted to me.

"Since Luisa brought up his name..." she started, her voice so low and slow that I could tell nothing good could be in its way. "He mentioned you were together. This weekend."

My mother fixed me with her gaze; her bright green eyes and pink eyeshadow begging for details. Reyes? Well, something told me she also knew about our encounter, but she pretended not to know it. She knew my mother hated to be the last to know about things. Ana looked at her sister, frowning, ready to discuss how, or rather why, that matter had gotten to the table.

“"When were you planning to tell us about that?" asked my mother.

"I wasn't, actually," I said, taking a sip of my mimosa. I called the waitress and asked for another one; I knew one wouldn't be enough if we kept this subject on the table. "It was meaningless. Not worth it to talk about."

"But what happened?" My mom asked, her gaze burning into me.

"He showed up at the track, at the garage," I said, pausing. My mom and Reyes both tilted their heads slightly, their curious expressions trying to get more details out of me. "We talked, and he left. That was it."

"That was it?" Ana asked, her eyes still focused on Blanca, almost as if she was making sure Blanca had heard the same. Blanca's face was a mix of curiosity and annoyance, her brow furrowed as she asked, "What did he say?"

Reyes stepped in and said, "Venga, don't meddle in their business." She glanced at me with a reassuring smile.

The girls didn't take their mother's request, as their eyes just glanced at me, full of curiosity and hunger to know more. All the alcohol in the world wasn't going to be enough to calm the storm inside me if I had to go through this conversation. Love and disappointment. What a killer duo. I forced a smile at the waitress, who had just laid a new cup in front of me.

“Nothing worth showing up the night before a race,” I had a sip of the mimosa. A big one. “Messed with my head and he didn't bother to show up to see me win it.”

Messed with my head. I think Ana read between the lines, because her eyebrows gently lifted up, and a hint of a smile appeared on her lips. I feared she would talk, make a joke, or ask another question, but Reyes interjected.

“Oh, dear… Didn't he tell you?” Reyes shifted in her seat like she was trying to get a little closer to me. “He came back to Madrid in the morning. But I assure you,” she paused. “He watched the race, he was seeing it on his phone, on the way home from the airport.”

Reyes' confirmation made more doubts settle down at my core and so, so many questions. Questions I didn't want an answer to, because, frankly, everything would be easier if he continued to be a villain in my story. Another sip of the drink. If it wasn't the morning I would absolutely order something stronger.

“He saw it?” Reyes nodded, his sisters seemed as surprised as me. “Jesus…”, I exhaled, leaning against the back of the chair. “And I called him and lashed out at him.”

Blanca cleared her throat and without moving my head, I just looked at her like a child afraid of being called out.

“You need to talk,” she said. My gaze shifted to my hands, to the candles on the table, the plate in front of me, of which I barely had eaten from. “Eva, you know that he has always cared about you, right?” Vague words my mother always repeated, in desperate attempts to make us solve our issues. “I know you two are stubborn, but he already did his part. Don't let this get worse because of some miscommunication.”

“Miscommunication is not the right term, to be honest,” I said. “Try lack of communication.”

"Eva," Reyes made me look at her again. I remembered to breathe. They wanted the best for me and for him. They wanted normality back. "Either way, you will end up regretting not talking to him. I assure you." She paused. "You will hate that way more than putting your pride aside and listening to him."

And despite it making me mad, she was right. I had collected enough what ifs for a lifetime already.

My mother had that look that all mothers seem to share; her eyes were filled with so much thought and emotion, and her lips were sealed, for she knew that I would comprehend her words without her having to speak them. Reyes' eyes almost corresponded to the same emotion. I just looked down, defeated in some way.

"I'll try to talk to him," I paused. "I'll make an effort. I promise."

"Good," my mom said, satisfied. Blanca and Ana had victorious smiles on their faces and I tried to pretend not to have seen them. For a short moment, I felt like that had been an ambush. "Now, let's move on to another topic before we get too old talking about this. And, on the topic," she giggled, "we need to pick the cake!"

We ate, we drank and he didn't talk more about him. At the back of my mind, I formed an image of Carlos watching my race.

To be honest, that conversation got me through the day with a feeling I hadn't felt in a while.

Perhaps it was the effect of the mimosas, the nostalgia in action or the image of Carlos in the backseat focused on my race. Either way, I felt lighter.

"Fish?" My niece's voice brought me back to the table. Her tiny hand was extended to me, her fingers holding a piece of the grilled fish.

"I'm sure Aunt Eva doesn't want your icky fish, amore," Rio said with a tender smile, cleaning his kid's hand.

"Dad's right, Liv," I said, wrinkling my nose and helping Rio keep the toddler's hands out of her plate. "I have my own fish, look."

Rio smiled at the scene, busy cleaning his hands with a napkin. "See? I told you," he told the little girl, as he deposited a delicate kiss on top of her ginger strands of hair. "Let's just eat and don't make a mess, okay?"

After rubbing her eyes and tilting her head to the side, a long yawn escaped her lips. Sleep was already softening her body and her twin, Grace, was almost asleep in her highchair.

As usual, during the summer, we had dinner outside that evening. Rio and his family had visited during the afternoon, mainly to take advantage of the pool, but my mom had insisted that they stay for dinner. So, that night, instead of the usual three, there were seven of us.

I noticed I had stopped eating to observe the twins and try to understand their sleepy mumbling. They looked a lot like Marjorie, my brother's wife. Ginger hair, tiny freckles, sweet disposition, and a lot of good humour. From Rio, they got the deep green eyes and the never-ending energy.

My mother used to say they were a half-Scottish copy of Rio, but my dad would disagree. Even though I didn't want kids of my own, or at least not in the near future, I envied the love Rio had found and what he had created. He used to say "love at first sight" all the time, especially in the early weeks of their relationship, and then they would look at each other with the most endearing smiles.

I remember meeting Marjorie in my kitchen one Friday morning, still in my pyjamas, while they were having breakfast. Rio introduced us and left for class, leaving her alone at home like we were already family. It was only then, after almost an hour of talking with her, that I learned that she was an exchange student and they had met that night, in a bar.

“I need to find a way to make her exchange Edinburgh for Madrid, for real this time,” he told us at dinner that night. And he managed to do it. From that night out, from what would have been a simple one-night stand, had born a family.

That was what I envied—the simplicity, how they had found their way to each other with no detours. Rio never had to make her exchange Edinburgh for Madrid, because since the beginning she knew it was meant to be in Madrid. With him. For him. For the family they were meant to build.

Meanwhile, I felt utterly and completely lost.

I was so confused as to what to do; whether I should accept the destiny that we had set for ourselves or take a step back and hear what he had to say. I had made a promise; I would try to talk to him, but each time I imagined him in front of me, I could feel my heart sink, a void consuming me from the inside. And looking back at that night, the way he just fit inside my garage and seemed so right walking around my car, and how quickly all the emotions and feelings had resurfaced, just trying to speak with him seemed like a terrible decision.

I owed him an apology for last Sunday's call; nothing more. There was no point in going back beyond that weekend. As I had taken years to learn, he didn’t owe me anything. I had learned to live with the choices we had made; there was no point in rethinking them.

But I had made a promise.

I drank a bit of my wine, my eyes roaming around the table, my body relaxing again as the warm breeze ran across the table.

By the time we had finished our dinner, the sun had already set. Taking my glass in one hand and the small plate with ice cream in the other, I made my way towards the small blanket my mother had spread next to the pool. I sat down between Marjorie and Rio, both busy feeding the kids their ice cream, as both of them struggled to keep their eyes open. It didn't take much until they fell asleep in the blanket, with their bellies full and chocolate stains on the pretty sage green dresses they were wearing.

The smell of freshly cut grass and the familiar aroma of homemade ice cream took me back to my childhood. That, along with the arrival of people I thought would stay in the past, and maybe the glasses of wine I drank at dinner, left me feeling overwhelmed. Too many opinions, too many expectations.

I tried to distract myself from all that.

Rio was attempting his best to try and persuade my father to invest in a motorsport team one of his driver friends had recently joined, and Marjorie was there to listen attentively by his side. Her ginger curls were a beautiful contrast to her pale complexion, which was lightly kissed with freckles. As I lay down on the ground, I couldn't help but be mesmerized by Olivia's tiny curls, as my hands played with them gently. She smiled during her sleep, a look of contentment on her small face.

"That won't help me, Fabrizio," I heard my father say with a sigh, shaking his head. "Neither will help you. We drive and work with real cars. I don't need or want to support that electric car crap."

Marjorie giggled, "Told you so, babe." She patted him on the back, trying to cheer him up.

"Your grandparent would scold you if you talked about that near him," my father said, taking a sip of his wine glass before putting the glass back on the table near his outside armchair.

I couldn't help but chuckle at his comment, happily being on the other side of the conversation, just listening, not in the mood to talk about my own issues. But my brother, Rio, seemed to take my father's words as a personal challenge.

"Look at Formula-E, papà!" He gesticulated, like a true Italian. "In a couple of years, these new branches of motorsport will take off. It's a good investment. And there's a lot of potential in the market."

"It's not about investment," my father said, his voice full of conviction.

"Eva! Tell him supporting electric motorsports is marketable!" My brother turned to me and I could see the frustration on his face. When I looked back at my dad, he had both his eyebrows up, ready to listen to my opinion.

"Sorry, Rio," I said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "Nothing about Dad is marketable. He's just a grumpy old man."

My dad chuckled, a smile spreading on his face as he reached for his wine glass and took a sip. "Eh, I'm not that old," he said, his eyes twinkling with joy and a hint of amusement.

Rio looked at my mom as if he was waiting for her to save him, but she just smiled and patted him on the shoulder on her way to my father’s side. He let out a deep sigh, accepting his defeat.

“Fabrizio, you know your father doesn’t care just for the numbers…” she said in a soothing tone.

“Tradizione, patrimonio…” I said, looking up at them. Those words served as a motto in our home.

My mom was standing behind my dad, both her hands on his broad shoulders, a big smile on her lips while she nodded to my words. Her French tips were hidden by my father’s hands, which he positioned over hers in a reassuring gesture.

“Exactly,” he nodded slowly. "Heritage, family…” He paused for a second, his gaze turning a bit more solemn as he continued. “It’s about staying true to my roots and the traditions of my family, and my country, and not getting carried away with all these new trends. You know that, Fabrizio."

“Also,” I said. “Dad’s main business is wine. Sponsoring a racing driver would be a… choice.”

“You are a racing driver.” My brother pointed. “Dad sponsors you.”

“Because I’m his daughter, not because I’ll be a moving billboard for his company,” I said, taking a sip from my glass. “Dad can offer support in other ways, but I don’t think it will look good to do it your way.”

My father nodded, a small smile on his lips. "I can help the guy move into a real Motorsport series and not that vegan car crap.” The smile on his face grew as Rio got more annoyed. “It’s so easy to get to you, boy.” An actual burst of laughter erupted from the old man, and my brother tried to battle a smile. “Send me his number, I’ll talk with your friend.”

Rio nodded, satisfied with his victory, and naturally, the conversation moved on to other topics. I continued to observe my family, my gaze lingering on the toddlers sleeping between us lulled by the laughter and casual banter between the older members of the family.

The first to move was my father, leaving his armchair empty and my mom took his place. Soon after, Rio and Marjorie decided to go home. My mother offered to help them as they made their way out, carrying on her lap one of the kids, while Marjorie held the other. I tried to stand up, but the wine had definitely taken its toll on me.

I decided to stay for a bit more.

An empty glass sat by my side, my feet touching the fresh grass. Only the chirping of crickets and croaking of frogs could be heard from a lake a few meters away. Again, I was transported to the past, to the lull of days that passed without any responsibility, and when I was nothing but innocent and naive. And then, upsetting the melody, my cell phone vibrated.

“My mom missed you. She was all smiles when she got home.”

I smiled at my cell phone and looked at the horizon, at the birds that flew across, still painted by the dwindling twilight, oblivious to all this.

“I missed her too. I’m glad I could put a smile on her face.”

“As you always used to do.”

I hated to admit it, even to myself, but I liked the texts. Not the texts themselves, but to be able to talk to him. To know he was just a text away; that he was, once again, reachable.

That thought alone was enough to make me angry at myself. Deep down, I knew I wanted him back in my life. I wanted to be able to open my door and welcome him back into my home, to be able to have him around and sit with my family. I wanted to have him talking about wine with my father, discussing engineering with my brother, and charming my mother with words that never failed to make her smile. I missed him – more than that, I missed the person I was when he was around; the person who he inspired and encouraged me to be. I could try.

I could try. I had to try. I made a promise.

We could try to be friends. I could try to lower the expectations and look at the world from a more realistic point of view, setting aside my rose-tinted glasses. I could try to look at him, talk to him, be around him and not let anything resurface. Not the love or the angst.

I glanced down at my phone, the screen was still on. The little telephone icon in front of his name stared at me, its monochromatic colours prompting me to take action. My finger trembled as it hovered over the button and I pressed it, the action fueled by my too-many glasses of wine.

He picked up almost immediately.

“Eva.” His voice, both familiar and strange, filled my ears. Deep, hoarse and warm. I felt a shiver down my spine.

And suddenly, I was aware of the silence filling the air, a silence almost oppressive.

"Carlos." A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. "Hi."

"Hey."

I swallowed dry.

"Hi.” Again. He chuckled softly.

"Do you need anything?"

"Yeah,” Fuck. “I just wanted to apologize. For the other night—morning, I mean."

"It's okay," he chuckled softly, his voice gentle and soothing. The shiver extended from my spine to my arms. "You were upset and you had every right to be. It was stupid to show up like that. But, he made a pause, and I could almost feel the weight of his cheeky smile in my mind. "I got to experience drunk Eva. Although, this version was way less fun than that 16-year-old version that I got to know some years ago at my birthday party—".

I couldn't help but let a small chuckle escape from my lips as the memories mingled with the wine. God, that night was a mess. Embarrassed by the memory, and the sudden burst of laughter the memories had prompted (and that was probably thanks to the wine, too), I felt my cheeks warming up.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, too." I could hear him laugh and my stomach twisted. "I was a hot mess."

"Something says me you're still the same."

His words made my heart skip a beat. I didn't know if it was the alcohol or the fact I was talking to him again, or the memories he had brought back, but I felt something sitting inside of me. It was not love, not even close, but was definitely something scary. Something I had been trying to ignore for a long time.

“I'll have to disagree,” I answered hesitantly, forcing a firm voice I was not sure I could pull off.

“Really?” I hummed a confirmation back. “We should have dinner, then. Just so I can confirm or deny that.”

“Dinner sounds great,” and I regretted my words the second I spoke them.

“I need to travel to France Thursday morning, so… tomorrow? An early dinner?” Although half my mind was screaming against the decision, I found myself agreeing. “I'll pick you up.”

“Okay. It's a date then.” I paused, recognizing the words that had just left my mouth. “Not a date date.” I said, quickly correcting myself. “You know what I mean.”

He chuckled. “I know, Eva. But I will pretend it’s a date date, anyway.”

“Ah, don’t get ahead of yourself, Sainz.”

“Fine. It’s settled, then. And it’s not a date.” He said. “See you tomorrow.”

“Not a date,” I repeated. “Have a good night.”

I couldn't get on with my night without my attention being pulled by the fact that I would be alone with him and only God knows when that last happened. It's not a date, I reminded myself. And I knew it wasn't, there was no reason to be that nervous, but I couldn't help the wave of nervousness that swept over me. Perhaps, all of this was my body re-entering its old habits, returning to the mannerisms that his presence provoked.

I had spent years trying to build a life without him in it, and I was determined not to let those feelings resurface and draw me back in.

That night, I fell asleep repeating those words in my mind. Reminding myself that I couldn't, better, that I wouldn't give into those recently awakened feelings and fall deeper into a trap I had spent years getting out of.

Self-discipline was important to me. Both Rio and I had been brought up to think so. We didn't always follow my father's teachings to the letter, but we did our best not to fall short of the maxims he had transmitted to us. So, the next day, I focused on annihilating every item on my to-do list, using my productivity against the anxiety caused by my "non-date."

My trainer had sent me a new workout regime a few days earlier, so it was the first order of business. I ran through the neighbourhood, waving at neighbours who occasionally passed by, mumbling the lyrics to a song from the playlist I'd been listening to serially for a couple of weeks. I stopped at a children's park halfway home, which was surprisingly empty, and turned it into my personal gym.

"You're going to be the death of me, someday" I sent it to Rocco, my trainer, along with a picture of my sweaty (but smiling) face, giving him a thumbs up, and then I headed home. Still running, listening to the same songs, mumbling the same lyrics.

When I got back, the house was empty, so the rest of my day was spent respecting my own time. I'd left the windows open, embracing the hot summer breeze, put music on the speakers and, line by line, annihilated my to-do list.

"8.30? Does it work for you?" Carlos sent, mid-afternoon. "We'll eat here. Need to show you what Italy has taught me."

He's cooking? I stared at my phone and re-read the text twice, to make sure I'd understood it correctly.

"Should I call poison control in advance?" I texted back. Enter. "Also, don't need you to pick me up. I'll be there."

"Funny." And, in true Carlos fashion, he added an eye-roll emoji. "See you later."

I think that's when I was taken over by insecurities again.

Sitting in my living room, laptop on my legs, the doors and windows open, I looked around and imagined us there: our younger versions, when being a Formula 1 driver was still a dream and the days passed slowly.

I remembered when I used to wake up and run downstairs to see if Carlos was here and if he wasn't, then I'd go out to the front garden and sit on one of the sofas, reading or studying, so I could watch Reyes's car approach our driveway. And then, as subtly as I could, I would say "Holla, Carlos" and pretend to ignore him as I walked around the house. Other times, I would sit on the living room couch next to my brother and I would feign interest in whatever game they were playing.

Rio would shush me and attempt to force me out of the couch, whereas Carlos would go out of his way to patiently explain the purpose of every button on the remote and the intricate plot of the game, even providing details of the backstory of every single character. I couldn't blame myself for having a crush on him, could I?

He was my brother's best friend, a good-looking guy who happened to be a racing driver, something that, not surprisingly, appealed to female attention. I didn't even dream that he would one day actually make it to Formula One, not that I doubted his talent but back then, in the fever of adolescence, he was just that boy.

When I realized I really liked him, he started travelling more, until he eventually spent more time away than at home. The first punch to the stomach. I stayed on that tightrope forever, thinking about what it would have been like if he had stayed in Madrid, and gone to college like a normal guy. Over time, over the long phone calls and the short encounters here and there, he slowly became a best friend.

He stopped being that boy, to become the boy.

I wanted to be around him. I wanted to drive in the same series as him. I wanted to be near him. Because he was sweet and patient and loved racing and loved to see me race. Because even after he became an F1 driver, fame didn't change him. And lastly, because he showed me that it was indeed possible to achieve even the most daring dream.

Until he ceased to be even that to me.

And now, I wouldn't be having dinner with the guy I dreamed of having a future with; I would be having dinner with the man who insisted on leaving everything in the past.

So, there was no reason for this anxiety.

From what I knew, he was nothing more than a stranger.

Looking in the mirror, I tried to find reassurance in myself and in the lines of the dress I'd picked. Soft, fresh and simple. I didn't want to cross any lines Carlos had drawn in his mind and at that point, I didn't know what lines I bore in mine.

The second I stepped out of the house, the warm breeze welcomed me with a tender embrace. As I looked up, I could see the sun slowly beginning its descent, and the sky was slowly being coloured in a dim orange hue, replacing the bright and clear blue sky of earlier in the day.

"On my way."

I quickly typed out a message to him as soon as I settled into the Uber and then left my phone to rest on my lap, allowing my mind to settle into the familiarity of the route I had taken so many times before. The journey was brief: in less than ten minutes I could already see him standing outside his door, anxiously checking his phone.

Handsome as ever. Button-down shirt, white pants.

Short hair. Shorter than last Sunday. He looked so fresh. So manly.

I felt like a stalker, admiring him from the still-moving car, as he waited for me at the arch of his own door, pacing around. That eased my mind; he was just as nervous as I was. He raised his empty hand up to his hair, passing his fingers through it. A few strands fell onto his forehead, and he gently swept them to the side.

I grabbed my phone, the movement making the screen light up. "Can't wait." He had texted moments before.

And then the car stopped, and his gaze rose from the ground to the car I was in. His eyes would have met mine if not for the tinted window that separated us, as he crossed the path from the door to the sidewalk, rushing to open my door.

Carlos thanked the driver and then turned to me. His face taken by the golden hue, the big eyelashes casting a long shadow on the top of his cheeks. Still lost in his looks, perhaps so lost he could have seen it in my expression, I found my way back when he touched the small of my back.

A kiss on the cheek. A stroke with his hand, just like his mother had done the day before.

“Shall we?” I finally said, breaking the silence.

He was quick to agree and direct me inside, in front of him. I knew the way, of course. I could draw this house from memory.

When I was almost at the door, he hastened his steps and I noticed a sudden burst of energy in him as if he had remembered the courtesy he had momentarily forgotten. He then hurried to open the door for me. As I stepped inside I felt some memories flooding back.

The house looked the same. Large, spacious, high ceilings, beautifully ornamented. It was a home. You could tell a lot about the Sainz family from the way the house was decorated. The fragrance in the air, fusing with the smell coming from the kitchen, embraced me and filled me with bliss. I looked around, as I walked behind Carlos. Small frames everywhere. I spotted one of my favourites — Carlos, Rio and me in Australia, on the day of his F1 debut. I smiled. I had that frame in my house too, right on the mantel.

"Still the same, no?" He said, his voice interrupting my thoughts and I realized I had stopped to watch the frames.

There was one photo that was new, a picture of Carlos standing proudly with the golden Silverstone trophy in his hands. My eyes lingered on that one—his big smile, the hair whipped by the wind.

"Yeah," I nodded. A brief pause. Just enough time to remember why I was there. I twisted around on my feet and turned back to him. "What did you cook?"

He motioned me to follow him and I obliged. Through the hallways I knew so well, he directed us to the kitchen.

"Pasta. From scratch." He said with a smug smile on his lips. Carlos then turned back to me, standing near the two plates laid on the counter.

Just by looking at them, I understood why Carlos had blended so fast into the Ferrari crew. The smell and the perfectly arranged piles of pasta, drizzled with an orange sauce, told me everything I needed to know about how well he had acquainted himself with Italy.

"I can't promise it'll be the best you've ever tasted," he said, carefully balancing both plates in his hands. "But it has the most important ingredient, so it won't be too bad."

I walked to him, stopping in front of him and attentively studying the plates.

"I don't see any cheese on it," I said teasingly. When I looked up at him, I drew my eyebrows together, but his grin and the lightness of his expression made me immediately smile. He laughed a deep chuckle that rumbled through the kitchen, stripping away all my shields.

"I meant love, Eva." He circled around me in a couple of rushed steps, the plates not even moving.

"Does that taste as good as Parmigiano Reggiano?" He rolled his eyes, making my lips curve involuntarily. I missed his cheesy jokes and I hope he missed me teasing him about them. "Did you pick a good wine, at least?"

"Nah. That's your only task for tonight," he said, before leaving the room. His voice echoed from the hallway, "You know where to find the bottles."

I knew exactly where to find them. Turning the corner of the hallway, I headed to the pantry. My steps resonated between the walls and, for a second, I felt comfortable. Light. The interior of the pantry still had the same smell and the shelves were organized the same way.

Nostalgia hit me hard in the chest.

Carefully arranged at the end of the pantry, the bottles were standing in the same order they had been standing in for years, as if time had frozen inside. In the dim light, I could make out the familiar labels; the same collection of wines, in the same order, neatly arranged. I grabbed a bottle of vintage red, one of the bottles from my father's winery. It would pair perfectly with the pasta and the occasion.

Stepping into the dining room, I held up the bottle in my hand. “Is this one too fancy?”

Carlos quickly turned towards me, a kitchen cloth over his immaculate shirt. I knew his mother would scold him for that.

“Not at all,” he said. “It seems fitting.”

The tall glasses were already arranged on the table, near the plates. Underneath them, white linen placemats were tinged with the twilight that crept inside, casting golden shadows from the large glass doors behind the table.

“Do you mind?” He extended his hand and I gave him the bottle.

His hand easily encircled the dark glass. Slim fingers worked to open the bottle. With a firm grip, he pulled the cork out with a single tug, producing a loud pop that reverberated through the room. My gaze shifted from his hands to his face, taking in the multitude of emotions that a single look of his could convey.

I picked up the cups and let him fill them, admiring the glint of sunlight reflecting off the glass as he laid the bottle on the table. I propped my hand on the back of a chair, leaning in and taking a deep breath as I moved the glass in front of my nose, inhaling the sweet aroma of the drink. I took a sip, and I was content with my choice.

“I knew I could trust you for that,” he said, with a warm smile on his face. “Some things never change, huh?” he added, almost as if to himself. I nodded in agreement, giving him his cup.

He gestured towards the plates and I took my seat, waiting for him to do the same. We ate in silence, the only sound being the sound of cutlery against porcelain. It was strange, but comforting to be here again, with him. I felt like time had stopped and we were back to the days when we were just friends, before all the changes that had been made.

Carlos didn't say much, but I could tell he was enjoying the food. He smiled at me every now and then, and sometimes I caught his eyes lingering on me while I ate.

“It’s not bad, you know?” I broke the silence, taking the napkin to my lips. “Parmigiano would work better than love, but it’s the chef’s choice, I guess.”

He let out a deep chuckle. “Maybe. But the chef is still learning, so he's open to suggestions.”

“I’ve made my suggestion. Go get us some cheese.”

He laughed again and rose from his chair. “I'll be back in a few minutes.”

In his absence, my eyes traced the lines of the curtains, the table, the walls, and the door that just half an hour ago had been the barrier between us. I heard Carlos' steps coming back down the hallway before I saw him. In his hand, a bowl of freshly grated Parmigiano.

“Brought this home a few weeks ago,” he said, with a note of pride in his voice. “One of the mechanics gave this to me in Maranello.”

“I think it will do the trick,” I took the bowl in my hands under his focused gaze and, with the help of a spoon, I sprinkled our plates with the cheese. He immediately took his fork and had a bit of the pasta. His smile grew. “See? You can’t make this without the cheese.”

“In my defence,” he leaned back, hands up in surrender. “I didn’t want to overpower the other flavours.”

“Right,” I replied, a hint of irony in my words. “Just like I don’t add mint to my mojitos because I want to taste the rum…”

He laughed, his eyes twinkling in the dim light of the room. "Okay, guilty as charged." Feeling the familiarity of the moment settle in, I went back to my pasta, now sprinkled with cheese. And God, now you could taste the love.

"Now, I have to admit. This is really good."

Carlos smiled and nodded, a pleased expression on his face, a hint of pride transgressing the glint in his eyes. He leaned forwards, resting his elbows on the table and intertwining his fingers. I looked up, from the big hands to the caramel-coloured eyes.

"Do you remember the first time we went out to dinner?" He asked, his voice soft and calm. “Just the two of us?”

“I do,” the memories were fast to arrive. “It was the day you passed your driver’s test, wasn’t it?” He nodded. “Rio was still sick from that shady sushi place.”

The broad grin he used on his face turned into a hearty laugh, no doubt remembering my brother’s awful food poisoning episode which had kept him in bed for a few days. Despite my resistance to joining Carlos alone, that night turned out to be amazing. If I closed my eyes, I could picture the restaurant and view from the table we sat at; it was scary how imprinted that moment was in my mind.

“You drove like an old lady,” I teased him. “I’d never seen you that nervous.”

He shook his head, his laugh seeming to still linger inside, as his lips stood open, curved up. His eyes twinkled in the dim light of the room, getting a bit darker every minute. “That was because one,” he held up one finger, “I didn’t want to get a speeding ticket and two,” he held up another, “I wanted to make a good impression.”

"And here we are, what? Ten years later?" I said, taking a sip from my wine glass. "And you still drive like an old lady."

"About that, I can disagree.” He put his hands together and rested his chin on them. "But I am still trying to make a good impression, though."

God. This man. I looked at him, truly taking in his face, his eyes, his lips, his hair. He was more handsome than ever. I could see the emotions playing on his face, regret and sorrow walking hand in hand until they reached his eyes and a dark gaze seemed to appear over them. I realized, then, I had dropped my smile.

"It truly doesn't matter if you can make a good impression today," I said. "No matter how hard I try, these last years won't disappear."

"Why did you decide to come here, then?"

"I promised your mother I would try to mend things," I noticed the words didn't sit well with him. "Why did you invite me?"

"Because I wanted—want to mend things. I miss having you around."

I shook my head, feeling my frustration grow. My restless fingers held tightly to the brim of the placemat, my body twitching with tension as I tried to find the right words. I leaned back, meeting the back of the chair, my eyes on his face. He dragged his hands over his face, stopping at his chin, where the fingers lingered in.

"Go ahead." He finally spoke again. "Tell me everything you've been saving for these last years. I deserve to hear it."

His eyes were soft, his face open and honest. I could see the sincerity in his words and it made me pause. A part of me wanted to tell him everything I had been feeling all these years, to finally let it all out and show him how much he had hurt me. But another part of me, the part that still held a flame of hope, was afraid.

"No," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "I don't think that's necessary. I guess we just grew apart, that happens to people."

“That’s the polite answer, Eva. Just—” I heard a sigh, not an impatient one. It was rather a hesitant one, not knowing what to expect. “Just tell me what you feel. Or rather, what you felt.”

I looked at him for a second. A sheer second that I regretted with my whole body and soul. He had a powerful stare, which was one of his strongest details. The stare, the way his gaze pierces in and invades one's mind... Trying to escape it, I glanced at my glass, feeling the need to drown myself in the red wine.

“If it’s liquid courage you need,” he moved his hand to the bottle.

“I don’t need to be drunk to talk to you.”

“To talk about this,” he filled my glass and I brought the cup to my lips. “Not to talk to me.”

“Semantics.”

"I won't fight you on that," he filled his own glass and then, as the end of the bottle met the table, he raised his eyes up to mine. "I've done my part, now do yours. Try."

"You had a different life." I started. "I will never understand what you went through and how that universe of yours works. I never understood and never will." I paused. "But I tried to. Believe me, Carlos, I did. But I got so tired of all the excuses and being put on the second plan. Always coming in second." The noise he made when he got up, his cutlery clanking against the plate and the chair dragging on the floor, made me look at him.

He walked until he reached my side of the table and pushed a chair. He sat by my side, chair turned to me, his legs apart, just enough that I could turn to him and fit right there, without our knees bumping. I looked down, at his hands lying on his tights.

"Eva." His voice was soft, full of regret. Once again, my heart sank. His hand moved gently, touching my arm. I turned to him, slightly, and then his hands went back to his lap.

"The person you became was so insensitive. And it was so... not you." I looked up, finding strength in his eyes. Hurt and curious in the same measure. "And looking back, you hadn't been yourself for a while before I decided to just... step back. I don't blame you. Life got in the way. I just got hurt. I held you to such high expectations. And that's on me."

Silence. The damned silence said so much. I didn't dare to look away from him and he didn't move an inch, didn't say a word.

"Silverstone," I recollected the image of the colorful frame, the one that had grabbed my attention before. I turned to him, now completely. "I can't tell you how much it hurt because I was so happy for you." My heart kept sinking, tears rising in response. My heart could explode. "I was so proud of you. I wanted to text you, but I couldn't. I mean, I could." He was nodding at every sentence. His gaze was on mine. I don't know how I didn't cave in right there, in front of him. "I could, right?" He answered me with silence. "I could have texted you but I sincerely thought that you didn't want me to. I think that's it." I shrugged. "I just understood you didn't want me around and that was almost too tough to swallow."

We sat in silence, both of us lost in our thoughts, thinking about all the things we used to do and I was committed to trying to understand why we became these people. These strangers.

"I had to let you go." The words echoed in the room. "I was giving you half, or a third of what you deserved. It was not good for any of us. We were stuck in a place where none of us was getting the things we needed and deserved. I think you understand that. And the way I did it, just running away from a talk, forcing you to back away... I was selfish."

A third was enough. More than enough. I wanted to say.

"I had my fair share of selfish actions, don't worry." A sad smile emerged on his face, as he saw mine. "I believed you owed me something. Deep down, everything I did was because I wanted you to give it back. The support, the love, the attention..."

"What do you mean?"

"I did it because I was in love." Was. I repeated the words in my mind. My throat was twisting into a knot as I poured out my feelings. I felt so vulnerable and exposed. "I wanted to be loved back. Maybe you knew that and decided to step away, but—"

I trailed off. No more words in my mind, just a void that seemed to consume me. He was looking at me, expression hard to decipher, which didn't happen often. Silence.

"No." He finally said, his voice soft. "I had no idea." I looked up, a watery smile on my lips. When he spoke again, his voice was a whisper. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." I shook my head. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"It does matter." He insisted, I looked at him, confused. "Because I think I might have loved you, too."

God. What?

What was that that I was feeling? Relief, joy, and a million other emotions I couldn't put a name to. I couldn't seem to understand his words and make sense of them. I shook my head and took a deep breath. My whole body was restless.

“Ever since that trip to the Alps. The cabin in Switzerland.” He slid his hands on his thighs until he stopped on his knees, torso slightly leaning forward. I looked down, our knees almost touching, his fingertips almost touching the bare skin of my knees. “I remember the storm, you know? Even now, that night is my dearest memory of those trips. Not the day I learned how to ski, or the landscapes. It's...” He looked at me. “It's how you felt safe just because you were holding my hand.”

“I wanted to keep being that person to you.” He continued. “The one that makes you feel safe. But I couldn't do that living in the UK, or being away for more than half of the year.” A pause. The knot in my throat tightened as it got harder to get back to those memories and the emotions they always carried with them, especially with his voice triggering them. “This was not the first time I tried to make things right, but every time I tried, it was harder. I had made more damage. And now, looking at you, I see how much I failed you and failed myself.”

“Carlos,” I whispered, placing my hand on his knee. Our fingertips touching.

His hand took mine and squeezed it gently. I looked at him, my heart opening up to the man standing so close. I had been afraid of this, of this bare moment. I had been living looking back to what I had lost but never to what I could conquer. A third wasn't more than enough. I knew that because back then I would have done everything to have him a bit more than that.

Carlos leaned closer. I closed my eyes. His cologne intoxicated me, taking control of my senses. Without even noticing, I parted my lips. I wanted him, always had. He cupped my face in his hands and brushed his thumb over my cheek. Every inch of me was begging for him. And then I felt the gentle touch, the soft and hesitant brush of his lips against mine.

“Please, don't.” I murmured. I put my hand on his face. My fingers felt the caress of his beard while they traced the line of his jaw. I stopped when my thumb reached his chin, and then his lower lip. I was incapable of moving and creating a gap between us.

We stood like that. Dangerously close. He just nodded to my request but did not move.

“I'm sorry, I-”

"Shhh." He cut me off, as he caressed my cheek. "It's okay."

And so, we stayed suspended like that: in uncertainty, in a half-taken step. Floating in time. Doing nothing wrong but far from doing the right thing. We clung to a version of ourselves that we had never experienced before and which was now opening, unfolding right in front of our eyes, a door we didn't know we wanted to open.

I opened my eyes slowly, taking in the image in front of me unhurriedly. My thumb found his lower lip and stroked it lightly. His eyes were still closed and his lips parted. God. I needed to escape that. How pretty he looked under the dim light, in such a vulnerable state.

"I should go." I didn't want my voice to sound like a whimper, but I believe it did.

His back met the back of the chair, a muted thud invading the silence. I got up. I felt my heart hit the floor as I saw him run his hands over his face. I couldn't read what was going through his head. The pair of tired, anguished eyes that stared back at me pulled the ground from under my feet. So dark. Covered by a haze that wasn't there when we shared memories of our best years and he was looking at me with bright eyes and a wide smile on his face.

How did we get here?

To this despair, this yearning for something that no longer exists?

I wanted to rip out, in cold blood, all the negative connotations that time had attached to his image and that clung to me like parasites, totally consuming me.

I took a deep breath and shook my head. He just nodded, as if he heard the apology my mind was muttering just by looking at me.

"Do you need me to take you home?"

“No!” Breathe. I reminded myself. “No, you don’t need to.”

“Let me rephrase that.” He got up. "Please, let me take you home."

Somehow, the trip hadn't been as bad as I'd thought it would be. We drove in silence, but our bodies spoke for themselves. I couldn't deny the energy that pulled me to him, that redirected my gaze to his face or his big hands on the steering wheel. It was impossible to resist the urge to look at his reflection in the rearview mirror and study his eyes to see if, like mine, they were betraying the desire we were feeling. If they were looking for me, if the haze was drooping or getting stronger as we, once again, seemed to drift away.

There was no way of knowing what was behind the door our exasperation had opened. It could be our doom.

We arrived in the blink of an eye. The second the car stopped, I unbuckled my seat belt, needing to escape the tension and desperation that was choking me. Carlos did the same. I didn't let him get out of the car before me; I didn't allow him to open the door for me this time.

"I need to apologize," he said, with his hand on the car door, already open. "For rushing things."

"No. I—" I shook my head. God. "We have a friendship to mend first," I explained. The door closed behind me. "That's more important than anything else."

He nodded. It was the first step. A new beginning.

And just like that, I was in his arms. A deep, understanding hug. The first thing I noticed was how tightly he hugged me, the weight of his arms pulling me against him in a massive refusal to let go. And then his cologne. He had been so far away for so long that I no longer remembered the notes of sandalwood and amber that always accompanied him. Cinnamon. And a hit of citrus. And finally, how easily I'd found my place — my face easily finding its place on his chest, my arms wrapping around his torso.

"Eva," my name, so close to my ear, bringing me back to reality. The weight of his arms disappeared. The distance once again grew between us. I turned my face to him.

I nodded. I was so close to breaking down. He caressed my cheek, his thumb brushing over the skin next to my lower lip. I closed my eyes, fighting the urge to kiss him.

"The pasta was amazing." I took a step back. "Good luck for France."

His big eyes stared back at me, the slightest of smiles on his lips. And it was more than enough.

It was the beginning of the tightrope, the fine line on which we found ourselves, each slight step on it reminding us of the ephemerality of what we were living. Purposely or not, we had started a tightrope crossing and this time there was no net to catch us. We had to reach the end of the route. There was no second chance. We both knew it.

"I'll see you soon," he promised, his voice a hoarse whisper.

And then we turned around. He got into his car and I crossed the path to my house. The car was there when I got in and it stayed there when I stood behind the window in the entrance hall and watched it through the stained glass.

My heart was beating so fast, magnified by the phantom sensation of his lips still caressing mine. He drove away and I stood watching until his car disappeared from sight.

The first step had been taken. The tightrope was in front of us.

Next Chapter: 03.

Long-ish chapters are the way. Feel free to leave your thoughts and comments. See you around. <3

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