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xiaomoxu · 3 years

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Lucien - Mind’s Quest: Arriving With The Crowd

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

A date from CN server which hasn’t been released on EN server yet. Might contains some spoiler.

Please beware of roller-coaster emotions from this. A sweet moment yet has a deep meaning between them, is ready to serve you~

*) I put [...] on my thought about some scene.

Translations under the cut~

Part 1

??: Lucien, MC, we met again.

On the way when Lucien and I get off from work, suddenly a familiar voice came from behind us.

We spontaneously turned around and saw our neighbor, Mr. Zhang, carrying a supermarket bag and beckoning to us with a smile.

Mr. Zhang: Recently, I saw you two commuting to and from get off from work together every day. It's a really good relationship.

MC: Mr. Zhang also helps your wife buy vegetables every day.

Mr. Zhang: My wife’s legs are not good, so I will run more errands. It’s not the same as when you are young.

Mr. Zhang: I remember MC said last time that you were going on a business trip, when would you leave?

MC: I will leave tomorrow.

Mr. Zhang: Oh my, it's no wonder! Then I won't bother you, so I'll leave you two.

Lucien: Okay, I understand, please be careful Mr. Zhang.

Mr. Zhang smiled and looked at us again, then strode away.

I received an outdoor reality show a while ago. I planned to go to the countryside of a neighboring province to shoot for three months. I heard that the signal over there is not very good and it is inconvenient to communicate.

In order to make up for the time when the two places were about to be separated, Lucien and I made an appointment to spare some time every day before departure.

Almost all the spare time was used by us when commuting to and from get off work, visiting the supermarket, and buying breakfast.

Even if it is somewhat "inseparable" in the eyes of others, I still feel that this time is far from enough.

When I was thinking about it, Lucien gently squeezed my hand, recalling my thoughts.

Lucien: How do you plan to spend the last night at home?

MC: Speaking of it, it might be a bit boring...

MC: In fact, my luggage hasn't been packed yet, so I'm always worried about what's left.

Lucien: Let me check it with you later.

Lucien: There is a distance between the shooting location and the urban area, so you still need to prepare well.

MC: Okay.

I looked up at the bright evening sky, and couldn't help but move closer to Lucien, entangled his arm.

MC: But the weather is so good today, let's go slowly.

Lucien: Alright.

As he said that, Lucien slowed down, we dragged a long shadow and walked slowly towards home.

Early the next morning, Lucien escorted me to the station.

After taking the luggage out of the trunk, I stood still and did not move.

Standing at the gate of the station, the dismay of parting suddenly surged up.

Lucien turned around with a sense and helped me stroke the messy hair in my ear.

Lucien: This time it's my turn to help you take care of the green plants. Don't worry, I will take care of them.

Lucien: And for you, if you need my help over there, remember to tell me.

MC: Okay.

I opened my mouth, but couldn't say anything more. Lucien sighed lightly and pulled me into his arms.

Lucien: It's ok, the words you want to say, I understand.

Lucien patted my back lightly, as if he wanted me to feel at ease.

I gradually calmed down, feeling the breath in his arms a little greedily, wanting to save a strength for myself.

None of us spoke, just let time pass quietly.

A radio alert sounded vaguely in the station, and the restraint on my waist was loosened. I also let go of my hand and raised a smile to Lucien.

MC: Phew... Recharge completed.

Lucien: It seems that the big producer is ready.

MC: Um! I will work hard, strive to go and return early.

Lucien: Okay, I'll wait for you to come back.

I waved to Lucien, pulled up the luggage and walked into the station.

After passing the security check and walking far away, I couldn't help but look back.

At the entrance of the station people were coming and going. I don't know who they are going to go to or who they have just said goodbye.

Lucien still stood on the spot, looking at me from a distance.

A train came into the station, and the crowd quickly engulfed him.

But knowing that someone is watching, has filled me with confidence.

Exclusive Radio

Lucien: The question just now is almost like this.

Lucien: After you go back, you can adjust your opening report based on today's discussion.

Lucien: Do you have any other questions?

Student A&B: There's none.

Lucien: Okay, that's all for today.

Student A: Huh? There is another hot search on the news.

Student A: "The villagers broke the news that the film crew was polluting the environment...This film crew seems to belong to the company "Miracle Finders", right?

Student B: Yes, I saw their propaganda a few days ago, saying that they are going to the neighboring province to shoot a reality show.

Student A: Local villagers said that they dumped sewage into the river and also posted photos.

Student B: This is too unqualified, right? Do you want to destroy people's environment in the name of local customs?

Lucien: ....

Student A: Wait a minute, Professor Lucien is the consultant of "Miracle Finders" .....

Student B: It's, Professor Lucien, we didn't have other meaning...

Lucien: It doesn't matter. It's a matter of fact. If the film crew really makes a mistake, it is normal to be criticized.

Lucien: But I want to know, did the photos on the hot search actually capture the scene where the show crew dumped sewage?

Student A: Not really, only pictures of the river.

Lucien: Then we better not draw conclusions so quickly.

Lucien: There is no objective fact of "the program group dumped sewage" in this photo, only the result of "the river water was polluted."

Lucien: People can stand from different angles and use this result to infer many different stories.

Lucien: There is only one true fact.

Lucien: How do you prove it, are the stories you heard were the facts?

Student A: I.....

Student B: Look, the program group issued a statement to refute the rumors!

Student B: They also did a picture comparison. It turns out that the picture on the hot search is a picture several years ago.

Student A: Huh? Then someone maliciously spread the rumors.

Student A: ... Sorry Professor Lucien, we were a little impulsive just now.

Lucien: There is no need to apologize to me, it is essentially the fault of the rumors.

Lucien: However, since the thesis is about to start the topic, you can use this matter to remind everyone.

Lucien: Whether you are doing research or encountering social events, don't be too impatient. Set your mind down and analyze the logic carefully.

Lucien: I will also look at your logic loopholes during the defense. So, I hope you will prepare it well.

Student A: Good professor, we must prepare carefully!

Lucien: Well, let's go back.

(Lucien left the room and close the door behind)

Lucien: Huh? No phone, no news...

Lucien: Forget it.

Part 2 - Main Story

I settled down at the shooting location and confirmed some shooting-related matters. It was too late when I got back to my senses.

--The whole day's hard work hits my body, but the unfamiliar environment makes me sleepless.

I unlocked the phone and saw that the conversation with Lucien was still staying in the report after arriving.

Suddenly I wanted to talk to him, so I raised my arm to find the signal direction and knocked on what I saw today.

MC: "Today, I was dealing with emergencies, the network was unstable, and the scene was very chaotic..."

MC: "But fortunately, I saw a very interesting book on the way, specially introduce words with special meaning."

MC: "For example, this one."

I posted a photo of a page in the book with the Greek word "pathos" on it.

T/N: The Greek word pathos means "suffering," "experience," or "emotion." It was borrowed into English in the 16th century, and for English speakers, the term usually refers to the emotions produced by tragedy or a depiction of tragedy. "Pathos" has quite a few kin in English. A "pathetic" sight moves us to pity.

It means the sense of yearning and longing for those who are absent.

I waited for a while, but Lucien didn't reply, he should have fallen asleep.

I confidently continued to type on the keyboard and talked out all kinds of experiences in one mind.

MC: "The villagers are very kind and hospitable and helped us a lot."

MC: "The air is also very fresh, and a faint fragrance of green grass can be smelled everywhere."

MC: "But there are so many bugs! Thanks to you reminding me to wear long pants yesterday."

I told everything from morning to night, and when I was about to say something, my phone suddenly shook.

A video call invitation appears on the screen.

I sat up, scratching my hair twice before press the answer button.

MC: You haven't slept yet...

Lucien: Well, just after finishing the report, I received your self-thinking message.

Lucien: I thought I couldn't wait for your good night today, but I didn't expect to receive a "big gift before going to bed".

MC: I don't know if you're still awake, is it bothering you?

Lucien: How come, I didn't feel disturbed.

Lucien: It should be said that I am very happy to see you share these experiences, in every detail.

Lucien: It seems that I am also experiencing these with you.

Lucien picked up the phone on the side and swiped, and smiled in a good mood.

Lucien: The book you took is also very interesting. The author has developed such a rich interpretation just around the word "pathos".

Lucien: This is the first time I know what this word means in Greek.

MC: Does this word exist in other languages?

Lucien: Well, I remember that this word is often used in English to convey the appeal of artistic works. It also means "sympathy" and "suffering".

MC: When you say this, you feel that there is a subtle connection between these two interpretations.

MC: Missing or longing for someone you care about can be considered "suffering", right?

Lucien: Maybe it is true.

Lucien: When the person you care about is not around, everything about her becomes more conspicuous, which makes people more aware of the fact that she is not around.

Lucien: Just like today.

Seeing that I was a little confused, Lucien pointed to his mobile phone.

Lucien: I saw some people on the Internet saying that the villagers at the filming location are somewhat dissatisfied with you.

Lucien: Is this the emergency you dealt with?

MC: ....I thought my actions for solving the problem were fast enough to keep you from discovering it.

Lucien: I thought you would talk to me about this sooner, so I have been waiting for your news.

I was stunned for a moment, and then quickly smiled at Lucien.

MC: Don't worry, those on the Internet are all rumors, I’ve already solved it.

MC: In fact, we get along very well, and we promised to let the guests help a family draw portraits tomorrow.

Lucien: Well, then I won't worry about it.

Lucien paused, and suddenly moved closer to the camera, seeming to want to see something clearly.

Lucien: Why you keep supporting your arm like that, is it not comfortable?

MC: No, because the signal at this spot is better...

MC: The accommodation conditions here are actually pretty good, and the rooms are clean and tidy.

MC: Except for the occasional signal, you have to looking for the angle yourself.

Lucien: I can imagine how you would look for a signal while holding your phone.

MC: You're teasing me again!

Lucien: Alright, I won't teasing you. It seems that you can sleep well tonight.

I lay down again holding my phone and patted the hard bed underneath.

MC: Newcomers may still have to get used to the bed for a few days.

Lucien: In this case, I will lie down with you.

Lucien turned off the top light and walked to the bed to lie down. I followed and turned off the ceiling lamp, leaving only the small lamp beside the bed.

The screen went dark, and Lucien's face also looked a little fuzzy.

We lie on each other's sides, looking at the screen, as if we were lying face to face.

Lucien kept looking at me. I was a little embarrassed by him, and my eyes began to drift around.

Lucien: Where are you looking at?

MC: ... I can't sleep, I want to divert my attention.

Lucien: It's better to close your eyes first, and I'll help you.

Seeing Lucien's encouraging gaze, I closed my eyes, and his low voice quickly came from my ears.

Lucien: Next, can you tell me what sound you can hear over there?

I pricked my ears and listened carefully, perhaps because my vision was blocked, my hearing became extremely sensitive.

MC: There is the barking of puppies and the roar of the machine.

MC: The alarm bell of a car rang...It was a bit noisy.

I subconsciously covered my head with a quilt, remembering that Lucien was still watching, and then secretly revealed half of my face.

Lucien: I seem to forget to remind you to bring earplugs.

Lucien: If you bear with it, the owner should wake up soon.

As soon as Lucien's voice fell, the noise outside the window stopped, and the world returned to silence.

Lucien: Is it quiet?

MC: Well, it feels quieter now than before...

We were silent in unison. Maybe the night is getting darker, and there is no other sound in my ears for a long time.

I don't know how long it took before I vaguely caught a tiny movement.

There are small ups and downs in the steady, it is Lucien's breathing.

I brought the phone closer, and subconsciously let my breathing keep up with his rhythm, as if we were in the same space.

My mind slowly calmed down, and my consciousness gradually drifted away in this sudden connection.

MC: Lucien...

Lucien: Hm?

MC: Good-

Did I say "good night"? It was too late to confirm, and my mind was gradually empty.

I do seem to be a little sleepy.

I don't know how long it took, Lucien's breathing gradually became even longer.

The girl on the screen is asleep, but she seems to have not released the phone yet.

Lucien sighed almost inaudibly, then curled the corners of his mouth again.

She was right, "The yearning and longing for those who are not around" does make people suffer.

Lucien gently stroked the sleeping face on the screen with his fingers, and spoke softly.

Lucien: Good night.

Part 2 - Memory Silhouette

Half a month has passed since the shooting. On weekend mornings, I was putting on makeup while chatting with Lucien.

MC: Professor Lucien has worked hard, and accompany me to get up early on weekends.

Lucien: It's okay, I just came back from buying breakfast.

MC: Huh? You finally remember to have breakfast on time!

Lucien: I heard that the spring limited soup dumplings from the Huxin Road store will be off the market in a few days.

Lucien: Thinking you might like it, I bought it.

Lucien: However, I forgot that you were not at home and accidentally bought two portions.

Lucien fiddled with the bag on the table and sighed softly.

I touched my flat stomach and sighed.

MC: I knew I should have eaten it again before I left, now I have to wait until next year...

Lucien: Then wait until next spring, we will buy it the first day it goes on sale.

MC: Okay! Then if you want to eat more today, just eat one for me.

Seeing Lucien nodded with a smile, I just patted the sunscreen on my face and closed my makeup bag.

Lucien: How do you feel that your dressing time has become shorter today?

Lucien: It usually takes at least half an hour before you come knock on my door.

I hummed twice, leaned close to the phone and tapped on the screen.

MC: Professor Lucien may not be aware of it. Make-up takes time and it takes time to remove makeup.

MC: At days, moving bricks are precious as moving gold, and I’m sleepy at night, so I don’t want to bother to remove my makeup.

MC: And now, it’s more important to be able to concentrate on talking with you for a while.

Lucien looked at me, smiling at the corners of his eyes and eyebrows.

Lucien: It seems that I was too accustomed to this intention before, and I will cooperate more with your time in the future.

Lucien: Speaking of this, I found a lipstick at home yesterday, which should have been dropped by you.

Lucien got up and disappeared from the screen for a while, and when he returned, he had the lipstick in his hand.

He opened the lid and showed it to me. I recognized that this was the one I carried with me before. The paste had already bottomed out.

MC: Actually this one is about to run out, just throw it away for me.

Lucien: Do you like this color very much?

MC: Yes, it's very versatile.

Lucien thoughtfully twirled out the remaining lipstick. I looked at him with a curious expression and couldn't help but smile.

MC: Lucien, in your eyes, are the various lipstick look similar?

Lucien: Just looking at it, it's a bit difficult to tell.

Lucien: But after you apply it, I can see the difference.

[Not me crying over this conversation ㅠㅠ]

MC: Unexpectedly, Professor Lucien is also have a talent for such things...

Lucien: This is not my talent.

Lucien: You make these colors look clearer and more beautiful.

[UGLY SOBBING]

It sounds like a joke, but his tone is very sincere.

I was a little embarrassed to look away, and my heart was filled with sweetness because of his attention.

MC: Do you have any favorite color?

Lucien: I have. What I see now is the one I like the most.

My cheeks were slightly hot, and I was about to say something when the phone alarm rang suddenly, interrupting my thoughts.

Lucien: Is it time for assembly?

MC: Mmhm, how can time pass so fast...

MC: Then I'll go out first.

Lucien: Be careful on the road and take a break.

Lucien waved his hand as I did, and the sunlight shining in the room reflected his smile more clearly.

After finishing the call, I also subconsciously glanced out the window.

Although we can't spend this weekend together, but fortunately, we still enjoy the same sunshine.

Part 3 - Main Story

It has been a month since the shooting started, and the daytime sunshine gradually warmed up.

Three poles on this day, we set up the machine under the sun, but a guest did not wait.

Perhaps because of the sweltering weather, the guests were not very enthusiastic about their work, and even began to find all kinds of excuses to try "ask for leave".

Physical discomfort, temporary travel, family affairs... all sorts of things like

The reasons for yes and no are endless, which makes us very embarrassed.

I communicated privately a few times, hoping that they would cooperate with the work, but within a few days, the old drama will repeat itself.

Today was another morning without anyone. My colleagues took turns to the residence to persuade. I also made a few calls to the guests’ agents.

Fortunately, after some coordination, the guests finally came forward, and we started the machine in the afternoon.

But in this state, the shooting process becomes a bit difficult. The venue is not cool enough, there are too many retakes caused by the wear, and I don't like interactive sessions...

Little things that did not constitute a problem have become problems. I tried my best to explain from them, so that my colleagues and guests did not quarrel.

In order to ensure the quality, I temporarily decided to stop work ahead of schedule after the key parts were taken.

I took advantage of the break time and prepared to go to the nearby supermarket to buy some supplies to comfort everyone.

Along the way, the villagers who came home passed by, and the sound of conversation and the roar of tricycles filled the evening breeze.

Although they looked tired, everyone was happy on the way home.

I suddenly remembered the days when I left work with Lucien before I left. At that time, I also had the same happiness as them. It was expectation and stability.

I don't know what Lucien is doing now. Did he leave work on time? Did he eat well? I took out my cell phone, but found that there was no signal.

I turned off the screen, walked silently to the entrance of the village, and suddenly a bright light shrouded my head.

The street light was on, and the warm light spread on the road outside the village. In front of the platform not far away, a bus full of passengers was pitting in.

Looking at the scene in front of me, I seemed to be gently pushed by a force and changed the direction of advancement.

I got on that bus.

Clerk: Welcome!

MC: ....

Originally, I just wanted to take the bus to relax, but I didn't expect to sit at the terminal --- the railway station accidentally.

The power that clamored in my heart drove me to buy a ticket for the fastest return to Loveland City.

When I walked out of the Loveland City Railway Station, it was raining heavily outside.

I watched the pedestrians passing by in the rain, and the reason for escaping gradually returned to my brain.

I walked into a nearby 24-hour store and sat down. I was looking at the night view outside the window and combing my thoughts. My phone suddenly vibrated, and Lucien's messages popped out.

Lucien: "Are you done?"

MC: "Well, it's finished."

I thought about it and added another sentence.

MC: "it's raining outside."

Lucien: "It's a coincidence, it's raining in Loveland City."

Listening to the patter of rain, I calmed down a bit and dialed the video call.

Lucien quickly picked it up. With the light on, I saw the familiar room behind him at a glance, which seemed to be my living room.

MC: Lucien, are you at my house?

Lucien: Mmhm, the rain is a bit heavy, let me move the green plants on your balcony.

Lucien: Are you still outside?

MC: I'll go out to buy something for everyone, and I'll go back when the rain drops a bit.

Lucien: It's already a bit late, so be careful when you go back.

MC: Don't worry, I am fully equipped.

As I talked, I nodded vigorously, as if to prove something, and as if I just wanted to convince myself.

Under the bright light, Lucien's dark circles were obvious, and his face looked a little pale.

There was a bit of sourness in my heart, I subconsciously moved closer to the screen.

MC: Lucien, what have you been up to lately?

Lucien: There is a study at the end, and the things at hand are a bit trivial.

MC: Is it very hard? You look a little haggard.

Lucien: In order to avoid blemishes as much as possible, it is indeed a bit harder.

Lucien: But it will be over soon, don't worry about me.

Lucien: But you seem to be very busy lately. Have you encountered any difficulties?

MC: There is a little problem...but fortunately, it is not difficult to solve.

I hesitated for a moment, thinking that I secretly ran back to Loveland City like this, I always felt a little embarrassed, so I changed the subject.

I glanced at the room behind him, and suddenly caught a bright color near the window sill.

MC: Lucien, what's on the windowsill...?

Lucien: Recently, a new flower shop opened near the research institute. There are many type of flowers and they are very beautiful.

Lucien: So I bought some privately and put them in your house.

MC: Well, I want to see it too.

Lucien switched the camera to the rear, and I saw a row of flowers on the windowsill, almost in full bloom.

It can be seen that these flowers are taken care of by Lucien very well, but the colors are all gorgeous, and they are inevitably dazzling when they are placed together.

always feel that this is not in line with Lucien's style, so I spoke with some doubts.

MC: Lucien, did you choose this all?

Lucien: I just chose the type of flowers, and the clerk helped to match the others.

Lucien: What's the matter?

MC: Nothing... they are bloomed very well.

MC: Is it time-consuming to raise so much?

Lucien: It does take time to change the water and pruning, but once in a while, it can be regarded as a kind of rest.

Lucien: Sometimes it is a little more comfortable to do things according to your own will, right?

I vaguely think that he meant something. Did he find out what he sneaked back into? It shouldn't be so obvious....

Just as I was thinking about how to respond to him, Lucien turned back to the camera and met my gaze.

Lucien: What about you, is there anything you really want to do now?

MC: Yes, I really want to go home, and immediately sleep for three days and three nights, and then go to eat hot pot and soup dumplings.

MC: I also want to watch movies and dramas instead of the ones I made myself.

Lucien: I thought that at least one of these wishes was related to me.

MC: Of course it is related to you. These are all things I want to do with you.

MC: It’s just that sometimes I don’t dare to think too much. It would be a little sad if I remember that you are not around.

I lowered my eyes, on the opposite side, Lucien did not speak for a while. Only after a while, I heard his voice again.

Lucien: In fact, every time the flowers bloom and wither, I also get annoyed.

Lucien: It would be nice if I could see it with you. If I raise it with you, it might be able to bloom longer.

Lucien: I am used to witnessing these moments with you. When you are not around, it is really uncomfortable.

I looked at his slightly bent eyes, and the bottom of my heart loosened for a moment, like a seed coming out of the soil.

MC: Then next time there are flowers blooming, please send me a picture.

MC: Although the network on my side may be delayed, it can be considered as a witness with you.

The smile on Lucien's lips deepened, and he nodded gently.

Customers opened the door one after another, and I glanced out the window. The rain had stopped.

Worried about revealing my position, I hurriedly moved closer to my phone.

MC: Lucien, the rain stopped on my side, I'm going to catch the last bus first.

MC: Let's continue tomorrow, go to bed early. Good night!

Lucien: ... Alright, pay attention to safety. Good night.

As soon as Lucien's voice fell, I hung up the phone in a hurry, and quickly bought a ticket to the neighboring province.

The sky was still gloomy, but my mood faintly became lighter.

One-sided thoughts may be troubles, but if this trouble gets a response, it turns into some kind of power.

The feeling of wanting to escape disappears. Between parting and reunion, I will run as soon as possible.

Because I know he is waiting for me.

Part 4 - Main Story

The filming work has been going on for two months, and the sense of summer has gradually become clearer.

It wasn't until the evening when the heat subsided. Colleagues walked to the restaurant one after another. I took out my mobile phone and walked to a place where there was a signal, and left a message to Lucien.

MC: "I have finished work, is Professor Lucien still busy?"

The words "The other party is typing" appeared at the top of the dialog box, but soon stopped and changed to a video call invitation.

I hurriedly picked it up and Lucien's figure appeared on the screen. He was wearing a white coat and seemed to be still in the laboratory.

Lucien: Sorry, I may have to work overtime today.

Lucien: When checking the data, we found some problems, and we need to "rescue" them.

MC: Is it serious?

Lucien: Fortunately, it's just a bit time-consuming to process.

Lucien rubbed his eyebrows, and my heart tightened suddenly as I looked at his tired face.

MC: I remember that you were finishing up last month, is it almost to the deadline?

Lucien: It's less than a week.

Lucien: This time I brought a newcomer, and there are a lot of things that need to be run-in in the details.

MC: They might feel a little nervous, it's the first time they take on an important job.

MC: But with Professor Lucien, everyone will be able to find the way out smoothly.

Lucien smiled and moved a little closer to the screen.

Lucien: I find that in your eyes, "Professor Lucien" always seems to be very powerful.

MC: Not only "Professor Lucien", in my eyes, Lucien is omnipotent.

MC: As the saying goes, those who can do more work, but you can't force yourself too much.

MC: Maybe you can’t rest assured now, but I have a tip to make you feel better.

Lucien: Oh? I really need it. Please tell me your advice, teacher MC.

MC: When it's really difficult, just give yourself a wish.

MC: In this way, every day we are moving towards that final wish and we have overcome many difficulties without realizing it.

MC: For example, arrange a vacation or travel, as long as it is something you like to do!

Lucien looked at me for a while and suddenly laughed.

Lucien: Thank you, teacher MC. I understand.

Lucien: In fact, this wish has always existed, maybe I'm just too impatient.

MC: What is Professor Lucien's wish?

Lucien blinked at me and skipped the question.

Lucien: If I remember correctly, your filming is also coming to an end.

MC: Well, the part of the reality show has basically been filmed, and I will go to the neighboring city next week to make up some empty shots.

MC: It is estimated that I will be able to go home soon to appreciate the flowers and plants that Professor Lucien has taken care of!

Lucien stretched his brows, and the smile in his eyes became deeper.

Lucien: Well, they are also looking forward to seeing you.

The neighboring city’s framing plan is based on the theme of "going home from work", for which the on-site director summoned a group of extras.

However, it rained suddenly before the filming started, so we had to buy an umbrella temporarily and distribute it to everyone.

I looked at the monitor and thinking about the moving line. I saw the light of the traffic light blurred in the rain, like a wet oil painting.

Considering that the theme of this reality show happened to be related to painting, my heart moved and decided to change the shooting plan.

MC: Please use an artistic way to express the theme, we will do slow-motion processing.

Think of this block as the background of the painting. You can use the props to simulate the people in the painting.

The actors seemed to be very interested in this suggestion and tried them.

MC: Let's try it first.

The camera moved slowly on the slide, the light slid between the transparent umbrellas, and the crowd moved closer to the camera and dispersed.

I seemed to catch a glimpse of a somewhat familiar figure in an instant, but in a daze, the figure disappeared again.

...How could Lucien be here? I must have saw it wrong

I blinked vigorously, forcing myself to concentrate.

Some of the people in this "painting" singing, some strode across the puddle, and some pulled out a stack of papers from their bags and threw them into the sky.

The night scene oscillated in these chaotic lines, and seemed to be lit by the warm atmosphere.

A piece of A4 paper flicked in front of the camera. After a brief loss of focus, the familiar figure suddenly appeared in the line of sight.

MC: ....?

I refocused, but found that the scene in front of me was not an illusion.

A narrow gap was opened between the crowds, and I saw Lucien holding the umbrella, walking towards me.

He didn't make any movements, but just followed the crowd forward.

The light-colored coat was stained with some rain, which did not weaken his refined temperament at all.

This is the "Professor Lucien" I am most familiar with. He walks in the crowd calmly, as if he just got off work.

The splendor in front of me instantly lost its sound, and my eyes could only follow him closely.

But why is he here, why did he join the group acting team?

Doubts and surprises are intertwined in my heart at the same time, I really want to run to him immediately. However, at present, the only thing I can do is to look up from behind the camera.

It seemed that I had been waiting for a long time, and the moment I looked at him, I looked into his full of emotions-eyes.

In the next second, he took out a familiar lipstick from his pocket, twisted his fingers apart, and slowly started writing on the inside of the umbrella.

Perhaps it was because the people around him were acting in an exaggerated manner, and his movements did not appear abrupt.

I subconsciously stared at his umbrella and slowly pieced together what he had written.

P-A-T-H-O-S, is the word we talked about.

The continuous rain water glides along the umbrella surface as if soaking it.

There is a faint bitterness in my heart, it is the smell of yearning and longing.

After a brief gaze, Lucien passed the equipment and stopped beside me, as if accidentally covering the umbrella over my head.

I came back to my senses and refocused my attention on the shooting until the group actors had all gone.

MC: Cut!

MC: Xiao Fu, tell the actors, just follow the feeling they just did, and take another shot later.

My colleague walked to the side to greet the actors. Seeing the atmosphere loosen, I breathed a sigh of relief and turned to face the person behind me.

I took a straight step forward, squeezed his sleeve, and poked his cheek again. Lucien leaned down cooperatively, and let me touch him.

MC: Am I really dreaming...

Lucien: Do you need to check again?

The smiling eyes are so near. As if bewitched by the light, I opened my arms to embrace him.

The faint fragrance of green grass enveloped my breath, and I couldn't help but move closer.

MC: Lucien...

Lucien: Mmhm, It's me.

He was holding an umbrella in one hand, and he held me tightly on my shoulder with the other. I didn't care if there were other people beside me, and buried my face in his arms.

A real touch came from under my palm, and the tips of his hair flicked gently in my ears, itchy.

At this moment, without the barrier of the screen, even if I bury my head in his arms, I can clearly outline his appearance.

Lucien gently patted me on the back. I don't know how long it took before I heard his voice.

Lucien: Is it confirmed now?

MC: Hm.… It is indeed our Professor Lucien who has replaced the actors.

MC: But why are you here?

Lucien: Now I'm here, will it affect your work?

MC: No way, you just provided a super awesome picture.

I remembered the busy work he said before, and subconsciously stroked the back of his hand.

MC: Is your research over?

Lucien: It's just ended today.

MC: Why didn't you take a break first...

MC: It’s a few hours’ drive from Loveland City to here.

Lucien: Compared to the past few months, a few hours is nothing.

Lucien: Besides, someone suggested before that I should give myself a wish to face the problems.

Lucien: Now that the problems have been resolved, I will come to realize this wish.

I looked into his eyes and suddenly understood what his "wish" was that he didn't tell me that day.

MC: But we have to go back to the countryside after the filming today. Is such a short time enough?

Lucien: Not enough.

Lucien: But the moment I saw you, I still thought it was worth it.

Lucien: I just don't know.. Does this suit the "going home" theme required by the big producer?

I looked at his questioning expression, and couldn't help but gently squeezed his face again.

MC: Totally suitable.

MC: Lucien, welcome back.

Part 4 - Memory Silhouette

After a brief reunion, Lucien will return to Loveland City.

After the filming was over, my colleagues took the equipment back first, Lucien and I got on the bus to the station.

There were not many people on the bus at this time. We sat side by side by the window, and the neon lights circling outside the window passed by.

This short reunion still made me a little dazed. I stared at Lucien's reflection on the car window, as if I couldn't see enough.

The bus stopped for one stop, opening and closing the gap between the doors, Lucien turned around, with a helpless smile on the corners of his lips.

Lucien: Suddenly holding it so tightly, are you afraid that I will run away?

He raised our tangled hands, and I realized that I had just accidentally used some strength.

I let go hastily, and reluctantly hooked his finger again.

MC: It's a bit, after all, "sweet dreams" are always too short.

Lucien: If this is your dream, don't worry, it won't slip away easily.

Lucien gently folded his fingers and clasped my fingers.

Lucien: Speaking of it, I'm very curious, why didn't you choose the Loveland City for your shooting this time?

I paused and thought about the words before I spoke.

MC: Loveland City is a bit far away from us, and suitable shooting sites have not been approved for various reasons.

MC: But there is another reason that I don’t want to shoot in Loveland City.

Lucien: Hm?

I paused and thought about the words before I spoke.

MC: At first, everyone was back at their home. If they were in Loveland City, they might not even want to work.

MC: Especially knowing that I'm in the same city as you, I can't help but feel sorrowful.

Lucien smiled and stroked the back of my hand lightly.

MC: But how do I remember that you seem to have sneaked back once halfway through?

MC: Huh?! How did you know..

I looked up at him in surprise, but Lucien smiled and clenched my hand, pulling me closer.

Lucien: When you called me that day, it was in the store, right?

Lucien: There is an activity label on the shelf behind you, and I saw the words Loveland City.

Lucien: Moreover, the call that day was particularly smooth. Normally, your signal in the village should not be so good.

MC: ... Then why didn't you break through me?

Lucien: You look a little shaken, I have been waiting for you to tell me why.

Lucien: But you didn't, and you comforted me in turn.

Lucien: So I guess, at that time, you didn't really want to escape, you were just pissing off, or wanted to calm down, right?

The stop announcement of the bus intervened in our conversation, and after a short stop, we continued to move forward.

The night scene outside the window quickly receded, and only Lucien's smiling eyes stayed on me.

I secretly sighed in my heart. Maybe it is because he always looks at me like this that he can always guess any of my thoughts.

MC: I should have guessed it a long time ago, nothing can be hidden from you...

MC: But thanks to you chatting with me at that time, I didn't really waver.

MC: Knowing that someone was waiting for me to go home, it instantly became full of energy.

Lucien: Silly, you have worked very hard.

Lucien: Compared with the past, you already become stronger and braver.

Lucien: Instead, I need to get strength from you now.

I looked at his slightly frowning eyebrows, and there was a burst of soreness in my heart, and I leaned over to embrace his waist.

MC: Can this give you a strength?

Lucien: Hmm... But maybe you have to hug a little tighter.

MC: You are shameless.

With that said, I moved my body and moved closer to him.

A muffled chuckle came from the top of his head, and the temperature between his arms soon covered his back. I leaned on his shoulder and suddenly thought of something.

MC: By the way Lucien, who told you about the filming location?

Lucien: If I told you, would you blame that person?

MC: Of course, it's not right to disclose the itinerary privately

MC: But criticism belongs to criticism. Since it was revealed to you, I will still personally thank this person

I reluctantly rubbed his chin and buried my face in his shoulder.

I felt Lucien resting lightly on the top of my head, and a slight vibration followed his voice.

Lucien: I'll tell you when your work is all over.

Lucien: Now there are only two weeks left, and we can enter the countdown to go home.

Lucien: I hope that when you see me again, you can still be as happy as you are today.

MC: I will definitely be happier than today.

The bus kept entering and leaving the station, muting our tail sound in the slightly bumpy carriage.

I counting in my mind, there are three stops, two stops, one stop left. I'm going to say goodbye to him again.

However, the rainy season is about to pass.

I think it will be a clear sky on the day of reunion again.

Part 5 - Main Story

The three-month shooting is finally over.

Before the hottest day came, I quickly packed my luggage and returned to Loveland City.

As soon as I got out of the station, I immediately looked around, looking for Lucien's figure.

The moment I dragged the box in the crowd, a familiar call suddenly came from my ear.

??: MC!

I turned my head and saw Lucien standing outside the security line of the station, his eyes gazed deeply on me.

MC: Lucien!

MC: Excuse me, please let me-

I dragged my luggage around the crowd, and ran towards him. Seeing Lucien, I rushing towards him, I simply let go of the luggage and jumped into his arms.

Lucien: .... Be careful.

Lucien warned me like this, but his arm had already hugged me tightly.

Rarely, he didn't lean over to hug me and carried almost all of my weight in his arms. I had to stand on tiptoe so I could barely touch the ground.

There was a slight suffocation in the chest, and none of us willing to let go.

MC: Lucien... I miss you so much.

Lucien: I miss you too.

A low breathing sound came from my ear, Lucien let go of me a little bit, his fingertips slid from the top of my head to my shoulders, followed by his eyes inch by inch.

Lucien: Our big producer seems to be tanned, tired and thin.

MC: Really?

I also raised my hand and stroked Lucien's cheek, rubbing it with affection.

MC: Our Professor Lucien has also lost a lot.

MC: It seems that I have to eat more delicious supplements these days!

Lucien smiled and nodded, and pulled the two luggage behind me.

Lucien: Then let's go home.

MC: Well, this time I really "go home"!

After returning to my home after a long absence, looking at the familiar furnishings, I finally let go of the tension that had been in the past few days.

Tired from the long journey, I quickly changed my clothes, walked into the room and opened the curtains, and at a glance I saw the flowers that Lucien kept on the windowsill.

It is a new variety that has never been seen before, and it is still in full bloom.

Lucien walked up to me and was slightly taken aback at the scene on the balcony.

Lucien: ... It seems to be brighter than I imagine.

MC: Imagine?

[DO YOU WANT ME TO CUT 1 KILOGRAM OF ONIONS??!]

Lucien's eyes flickered. I thought maybe he didn't know much about flower arrangements, so I volunteered to pick up an empty vase.

MC: It’s okay, just a little adjustment.

I picked a few flowers of similar color from a few bunches of flowers, trimmed them briefly, and put them in the empty vase again.

MC: Look, is this better?

Lucien: It looks a lot better.

Lucien: Before, I just followed the maintenance instructions to raise it, but it turned out that it needed to be adjusted like this.

MC: The most important thing is to keep the flowers well, I just add a little ornamental.

Lucien: In order to make flowers and people happy, it is best for us to raise them together.

Lucien: If you raise it next time, can you please help me arrange the flowers?

MC: Of course, it's on me!

I raised my head confidently, Lucien rubbed my hair with a smile.

Lucien: In return, I have a small gift for you.

Lucien turned around, picked up a small box from the coffee table and handed it to me, opened the box and there was a lipstick inside. The authentic rose red reminds me of the handwriting printed on the transparent umbrella on that rainy night.

Lucien: Choosing lipstick for the first time, I don't know if you like it.

MC: It looks so beautiful...Why would you think of buying lipstick?

Lucien: I just think this one should suit you well.

Lucien: Want to try it?

MC: Yes!

I picked up the mirror on the table and was about to turn the mouth red, and suddenly met Lucien's gaze from the mirror.

MC: You, why are you looking at me all the time.

Lucien: Can't I watch it?

MC: Not really, just a little embarrassed...

I turned around while I was talking, only to find that he was still looking at me in good time.

MC: .... Lucien!

He was amused by the way I was bulging. He seemed to think a little bit, and came over to take the mirror from my hand.

Lucien: Sorry, it's been a long time since I looked at you like this, I really don't want to miss any of your expressions.

Lucien: But if you are not used to it, I have a compromise.

Lucien: I'll help you put it on, how about it?

This fresh proposal made my eyes bright, and I quickly turned to face him.

MC: Okay, I won’t miss any of Professor Lucien’s special offer!

MC: But did you even know this...

Lucien: I'm not that good, and I may need you to be a "guinea pig."

Lucien: But I will try to be careful.

MC: It doesn't matter, Professor Lucien's "fault tolerance" here is very high.

Lucien: It seems that this is a special treatment for me.

Lucien: Come, sit by my side.

Lucien took me to sit on the sofa, tucked the hair beside my face behind my ears, and then focused on the lipstick.

He opened the lid skillfully, and squeezed it unnaturally

His gaze rested on my lips for a while, and I opened my mouth slightly in cooperation before he made the first stroke.

The moisturizing paste pushed against the lower lip, Lucien lifted my chin unconsciously, extending the color stroke by stroke.

His movements were very light, I was a little itchy, and was blocked by him, so I couldn't move, so I kept blinking and looking around.

Lucien seemed to have not noticed my struggle, so he put on lipstick slowly and didn't forget to look around, as if admiring his own work.

Lucien: This color really suits you, and looks better than I imagine.

MC: Is it "imagination" again?

Lucien: ,After all, it is a gift for you. Since I bought it, I have been imagining the way you put it on.

Lucien: Now, I can finally see it with my own eyes.

Lucien's fingertips gently rubbed along the edge of my lower lip, as if tracing its shape.

I caught a glimpse of the flowers behind him, and my heart trembled slightly.

I don't know how Lucien faced his longing, maybe it was a short daze interspersed with his busy work, maybe it was a "wish" in my heart...

I didn't deliberately think about it, but I felt that it was like a shadow.

I gently held his face and looked at him seriously.

MC: Lucien, now I am back.

MC: Whatever you think of or what you want me to do, you can tell me directly.

MC: After all, during this time, I have also accumulated a lot of wishes about you...

MC: Just as we "compensate" each other!

Lucien looked at me in silence for a while, and finally raised the corners of his mouth.

Lucien: Since I got my wish just now, now it's your turn.

Lucien: What do you want me to "compensate" for you?

I spread out Lucien's hands, seeing that there was still the lipstick that he had just rubbed off on his fingers.

I suddenly realized that it is precisely because there is no barrier at the moment that we can directly leave marks on each other.

And the long separation that I experienced made me want to be more greedy at this moment, leaving more proof of existence around each other.

I followed my heart to stood up and kissed his lips.

Lucien: ...

The newly applied lipstick rubbed against the corners of his lips, like a small blooming flower, dotted on his fair skin.

This color is really beautiful.

MC: If I want this kind of compensation... is that okay?

Lucien met my gaze, raised his hand and rubbed the corner of his lips, and suddenly laughed.

Lucien: Of course you can.

He hugged me up and let me sit on his lap.

Sunlight spreads on us through the gauze curtain, adding warmth to the narrow distance.

Lucien: I thought before that you might need to adjust to your original life for a while... Lucien: Now it seems that I am the one who has been worrying too much.

I took the lipstick from his hand and made a few letters out of thin air.

MC: Remember the "pathos" we talked about before?

Lucien: Yes, I remember.

MC: Later, I read the book carefully and found that there are actually two kinds of misses described by this word.

Not only do I miss the other person when we are separated, but even if the other person is right in front of me, I still long for him.

MC: So, although we are not in the same place in the past few months...

MC: But to me, I never felt separated from you.

Lucien raised his head slightly and looked at me, his eyes seemed to be filled with shards of light.

Lucien: So, even if I am a little greedy now, is it okay?

MC: It’s okay.

Lucien: I not only want to see unique colors, but I also want to leave colors related to me in it.

Lucien: Is it okay?

He took my shoulders and seemed to draw something on my shoulders with his fingertips.

I lowered my head and looked over. The little red he rubbed with his fingertips just now was drawing another "flower" on my shoulder.

MC: Of course, after all... this color suits me very well.

Lucien stared at me deeply, his gaze slowly sliding from my eyes to my lips.

In the drenched sunlight, he held my face and dropped a feather-like kiss on my lips. The soft touch feels like a kind of gentle comfort, which makes me fall into it bit by bit.

I closed my eyes and felt him pull my chin slightly. I opened my mouth slightly, and his breath quickly swept through my perception.

The jaw was clamped by him, and a slight pain melted into the hot breath, which made the kiss look a little eager.

I put my arms around the back of his neck and responded carefully, the pain quickly dissipated, and he asked for it even more with burning sensation.

The faint scent of rouge faints between the lips, I don't know if it comes from the lipstick on his lips or mine.

The shoulders were gradually clasped by him, and the cold air from the air conditioner came in through his fingers and was warmed by his palm.

Every skin that touches him is conveying pleasant sensations. I keep my eyes closed, but my eyes are full of brilliance.

The wet and rainy season that I have just spent alone is all illuminated by the snuggle at this time.

I don't know how long it took, the temperature on my lips slowly faded, I opened my eyes and saw a mess of rose red on Lucien's lips.

MC: Lucien, the lipstick--

Lucien: It's all spent.

We reached out to each other at the same time, trying to wipe off the fainted lipstick. But no matter how you rub it, it will leave a shallow trace.

We looked at each other in embarrassment and couldn't help laughing together.

MC: What to do.. am I ugly now?

Lucien: No, it's cute.

The eyes of the person in front of me are like water, and the sunlight seems to have washed away the complexities in these eyes, showing a bit of pure satisfaction.

Lucien embraced me again and stroked my hot cheek patiently.

Lucien: Any other wishes?

MC: There are a lot more, I feel I can't finish it for several days.

Lucien: It doesn't matter, I will be with you for many days.

Lucien: Those missing seasons, let us make up for it together

Notes from me: I can’t helped but giggling and crying over this date. The writer really gave us how Lucien’s feelings towards MC. They will loved each other for sure, with any circumstances ahead them. My wish just, please give them a happy moment like flying kite maybe? Anyway, thanks for visiting my blog and always reading Lucien’s date, and give him love~ xoxo

#mlqc cn #mlqc #mlqc lucien #lucien #mlqc translations

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makeste · 4 years

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is it too late now to say sorry

anon I agree with almost all of this for the most part, but if you don’t mind I would like to come to Kacchan’s defense here a little bit. while he absolutely does need to apologize to Izuku, there are reasons why he hasn’t done so yet which boil down to a lot more than simply “he’s still a dick.”

anyway, so for my next trick, I will take the thesis statement of “Kacchan is afraid to apologize to Deku for both selfish and unselfish reasons, and Deku doesn’t realize how much he needs to hear the apology because he pays no attention to his own needs”, and somehow transform that into a 3500 word rant lol.

first of all, I’ve said this before, but on the topic of whether or not Katsuki actually needs to apologize to Deku at all, my answer is an emphatic “yes.” is it necessary in order for him to earn Deku’s forgiveness? no. in fact I’m pretty sure Deku has already forgiven him. because that kid doesn’t have a petty bone in his body (not that wanting an apology from your friend who basically turned on you and made your life miserable for ten years and told you to go kill yourself is in any way petty at all), and because he has staunchly held on to what he could of their relationship throughout that entire time, hoping that one day they could somehow be friends again. Kacchan never stopped being “Kacchan” to him. Deku never stopped caring about him. and that goes beyond him simply being a good person; there’s also just an attachment there, for lack of a better word, that he is simply unwilling to give up. their friendship is that important to him. Kacchan is that important to him.

but just because Katsuki is almost guaranteed forgiveness from Izuku doesn’t mean the apology isn’t still owed. putting aside that it’s really the least he could do, I think an apology is also necessary in order for their friendship to ever move past the level it’s currently stuck at, for one simple reason: Izuku doesn’t actually know that Katsuki cares.

more specifically, he doesn’t know that Katsuki actually cares about him. because Katsuki, for various reasons which I’ll get to momentarily, has done such a spectacular job of hiding this fact that he even fooled a lot of us for a very long time. before chapter 284 came along, there was hardly any evidence at all that Katsuki actually cared about Izuku as a person beyond just the requisite, bare minimum level of “well I don’t actually want you to die or anything, because I’m not a complete shithead.”

because he hides it. and he hides it on purpose, which is a mind-blowing revelation I’m still only just starting to wrap my head around. it’s an act. all of his continued hostility toward Izuku since the Endeavor internship arc -- and possibly going even further back than that; possibly going all the way back to their second Ground Beta fight -- has been an act. here he is, continuing to bitch at him at every turn and basically doing everything he can to remind Izuku that They Are Rivals And Nothing More, and he has played that role so perfectly that hardly anyone suspected what was actually going on.

he cares about Izuku. not just subconsciously on a level where he’s in denial about it, but to a fully conscious and aware degree. he’s dedicated himself to helping Izuku as his way of trying to make amends. that’s a decision he consciously made, something he’s given a lot of thought to. he worries about Izuku. he worries about his selflessness and his recklessness and that one day he’ll take it too far and it will go terribly wrong. he worries about One For All and All For One, and about the legacy his friend has inherited that’s so much bigger than him, and which he knows Izuku won’t hesitate to sacrifice himself for if it ever comes to that. he worries. he cares.

and Izuku does not know this. and he deserves to know this. and that’s why the apology is so important. not because it’s a magic sentence that will miraculously restore the ten years of friendship and trust that was lost between them, or heal the ten years of pain and misery that Izuku went through alone and friendless, because nothing can ever restore or heal that. as a gesture, an apology is nice, but it’s also fairly useless, at least on its own. it’s meaningless without action to support it, and rather pales in significance when held up against the LITERAL DECADE of misery that it’s trying to make up for.

but the reason it’s still so, so important in spite of all this is because Izuku doesn’t know that Katsuki cares about him. he doesn’t know that their friendship isn’t just one-sided. he does know that Katsuki is a good person, and that he has a good core beneath his prickly exterior. and he’s more adept than most people at seeing past Katsuki’s outer shell of bullshit and understanding what lies beneath. but he has a blind spot, and that blind spot is himself.

he hasn’t made the connection between “Kacchan is a good person who cares about other people and is trying to do the right thing” to “Kacchan cares about me.” because Kacchan has been diligent in making sure that every time Izuku does start to make that connection, that he shoots it back down and disproves it as vehemently as he can.

which, just to be clear, is actually a huge load of bull, as we now know. huh.

but anyway. the point is that Katsuki is still hiding this part of himself from Izuku. the fact that he actually cares. the fact that their friendship is reciprocated on a level that goes beyond just rivalry and shared secrets and a mutual admiration for All Might. Izuku doesn’t know yet how much Katsuki cares about him, and he deserves to know.

and that’s why the apology is important. not because the words themselves are important, but because he deserves to know that Katsuki is sorry. he deserves to know that Katsuki cares about him. he deserves to know that he’s valued, that Katsuki sees him as someone who has value. he deserves that. and that, more than anything else, is why the apology is needed, and why it’s important for him to actually hear those words. because Katsuki was spot on when he said that Izuku doesn’t see himself in the way that he should, and I think he needs this to help him understand a little better just how much value he actually has.

so that’s part one of my rant! and now we move on to part two, which can basically be summarized as “okay but then WHY has Katsuki not just FUCKING APOLOGIZED TO HIM ALREADY.” because yeah, though. at the end of the day, this is all on him. and he does care, and he is sorry. so then what is still holding him back??

and that... is complicated. and it basically boils down to four things.

1. it’s insufficient.

ten years. all the way back to when they were four years old and Izuku first learned that he didn’t have a quirk. ten years of Katsuki bullying him and distancing himself from him. ten years of pain and isolation and unhappiness that Izuku absolutely did not deserve.

and yes, it ultimately stemmed from a misunderstanding, but that doesn’t make it right in the least. there’s absolutely no justification for it. Katsuki knew that it was wrong and he acted like that nonetheless. and anyone who says that Izuku in any way brought it on himself, that it’s in any way his fault or that he invited it on himself by not leaving Katsuki alone -- you can miss me with that, tbh. he was a child and he was lonely and confused and didn’t understand why his best friend had suddenly turned his back on him. this was the most vulnerable period in his life, and the person who should have had his back ended up being the person who made it even worse for him instead. and even after Izuku grew out of the so-called stalking and actually did mind his own business, and just admired Katsuki from a distance -- that still wasn’t enough to appease Katsuki either. even just the mere mention of Izuku wanting to go to U.A. was enough to set him off worse than ever before. that was absolutely not Izuku’s fault in any way, and I’m positive that even Katsuki himself would agree. Katsuki was terrible. I can’t emphasize enough just how terrible he was.

so yeah. ten years of that. and now Katsuki finally realizes just how awful it was. and he’s sorry! and he regrets it, a lot, and he wants to atone for it.

but now here’s problem number one: when you put it up in comparison to ALL OF THAT, an apology just feels overwhelmingly inadequate. almost laughably so. and Katsuki may be a bit emotionally dense (although perhaps less so than we always thought), but he’s sharp enough to realize this much, at least. it’s almost pathetic to simply try saying “I’m sorry” after all of that, and expect it to mean anything at all. it’s not enough. it’s so much not enough that I imagine he must almost feel helpless just imagining it. the weight of everything he’s done is so much, and an apology isn’t enough to undo any of it. it’s not even close.

Katsuki isn’t someone who backs down from things easily, but the sheer scale of the mistakes he’s trying to grapple with now is enough to give just about anyone pause. how do you even begin to address something like that? how can you even begin to make up for it? and Katsuki isn’t stupid, and I have to imagine that everything he saw during that first week of interning with Endeavor only cemented this for him. an apology simply isn’t enough. not for something like this.

2. it’s unfamiliar.

reason number two! and this one is a bit selfish on his part, yeah. but Katsuki is still just a kid too. and his falling out with Izuku didn’t only have a negative impact on Izuku; it hurt Katsuki as well. he lost that friendship too. he thought Izuku was looking down on him, and I’m certain that hurt him a lot more than he ever let on. if you trust someone and care about them only to have them turn on you like that (even though he got it wrong and it was ultimately all just in his head) -- that hurts. it’s not a coincidence that he became closed off and mean afterwards, and that even now he’s resistant to letting other people get close to him. for all that it was more or less self-inflicted, it still had a huge impact.

but now he’s learned that Izuku was never looking down on him at all and that he had it wrong this whole time. and as a result, he’s gotten this chance now to try and rebuild the childhood friendship that he almost destroyed. and make no mistake, this is something he wants too. it’s not just Izuku who’s grateful to have this chance to have normal interactions with the other again. this is something both of them value, and Katsuki doesn’t want to ruin it this time.

so he’s picking up where he left off! only the thing is, this involves him reverting to a blueprint that hasn’t been updated since the two of them were four years old, lol. “normal” for them is him being a bossy little snot, and Izuku happily shrugging it off with all of his limitless nerdy enthusiasm as they go about their various misadventures together. it’s a script that hasn’t changed since they were children, and one they’re both still more than content to use, but it is an outdated script nonetheless. Katsuki is playing the role that Izuku expects him to play. and it’s not like he’s being dishonest or anything like that, because that’s still him; he’s still his same old short-tempered, argumentative self, and it’s not like his personality has done a complete 180 or anything like that.

but at the same time, there’s a calmer side to him now which he is deliberately keeping hidden from Izuku because it’s off-script for them. it’s unfamiliar ground. with Izuku, he’s always been this Kacchan:

and again, it’s not like he isn’t actually that person, especially when it comes to his old rival. but at the same time, there’s another side to him that he rarely if ever lets Izuku in particular see. Izuku never sees the quiet Kacchan who avoids other people’s eyes while he fiddles with his water bottle and calmly asks questions about the OFA successors. Izuku never sees the insightful Kacchan who opens up about his own regrets and weaknesses. there’s a level of emotional intimacy, for lack of a better term, that Katsuki has been unwilling to let them cross into. and if I had to guess why, my guess would be that it’s because Katsuki is afraid that changing up the formula now will lead to unfamiliar territory which may or may not end up completely upending their relationship just as it’s starting to grow into something actually solid again.

which brings me to reason #3!

3. he’s afraid.

Katsuki already experienced what it was like to fall out with Izuku. and again, for all that he was the cause of it, and that Izuku had it much, much worse, that doesn’t change the fact that it was a pretty terrible experience for him as well.

and look, we know Katsuki is afraid of losing Izuku. that’s confirmed canon now. he actually admitted that he was worried about Izuku, and that Izuku’s tendency to recklessly disregard his own wellbeing unsettled him and made him want to keep his distance. and he sacrificed himself to save Izuku’s life!! and did it automatically, unthinkingly, because the decision-making on his part was so fast it didn’t even register. that’s how much he cares. enough that his desire to protect Izuku now ranks higher than his own self-preservation.

and when something is that important to you, you will fight not to lose it. and Katsuki does not want to lose this. Izuku is important to him. by extension that means their friendship is important to him. and he wants to preserve that.

and the thing is, the apology is an obstacle to that. and he knows it. he knows he has to face it at some point, because he can’t atone without it. he has to take responsibility for what he did. he can’t keep running away from it forever.

but he also knows the potential consequences. he knows that apologies don’t always end in reconciliation. he knows falling-outs don’t always have a happy ending. he knows that forgiveness isn’t automatic, and that years of pain don’t just disappear just like that. and he recently got to see firsthand one possible way how it might all turn out.

he knows Izuku doesn’t have to forgive him. he knows Izuku might not forgive him. and he knows that he probably doesn’t deserve Izuku’s forgiveness, and that ultimately he does not have a say in the matter one way or the other. it’s Izuku’s choice, at the end of the day, and whatever he chooses Katsuki is going to have to accept it.

but you can know all of that, and accept the fact that you’re going to have to take responsibility, and yet still be afraid to face it. and yes, maybe it’s selfish of him to feel that way. but that selfishness is also human. it’s human to fear rejection, and it’s human to go through the various stages of trying to postpone having to face that. Katsuki is a brave kid, but he is just a kid, still. and this is going to be very hard for him to do. that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still have to be done. but I feel for him and I have a lot of empathy for the situation he’s currently in.

and there is also one last reason why I think he’s putting it off as well, and it just so happens that this reason actually isn’t selfish at all.

4. he doesn’t want false forgiveness.

and this one is ironically kind of at odds with reason #3! Katsuki fears the possibility of Izuku not forgiving him... but at the same time, I think that strangely enough, there’s also a part of him that fears being forgiven, just like that. easily and gladly and unconditionally, with the trademark selflessness that defines so many of Izuku’s other decisions.

“he just... deep down, he doesn’t take himself into account, y’know?”

Izuku rarely if ever takes himself into consideration, and Katsuki knows this. he’s selfless to a fault, and Katsuki knows this. and so if Katsuki were to come up to him and apologize, there’s the possibility that yes, Izuku might decide not forgive him. he might in fact be all “nah, you know what, fuck you,” as would certainly be within his rights.

but this is a very remote possibility, and we all know it. and Katsuki knows it too, I think. because that’s not who Izuku is. he puts other people’s welfare above his own, every time. and so if Katsuki were to break down and tell Izuku that he was sorry, and if he were to ask him for forgiveness, nine times out of ten that is something that Izuku grants instantly. this is the same kid who put his own life at risk to try and save Katsuki less than an hour after Katsuki told him to dive off a roof. Izuku’s instinct is to protect and save. and so if he sees that Katsuki is hurting; if he sees that Katsuki feels guilty for what he’s done and that it’s eating away at him in much the same way as when he was blaming himself for Kamino -- he is going to do what he always does. he is going to try and save him.

and he would do that even if it meant shoving down his own pain. he absolutely would. he would prioritize Katsuki’s feelings over his own. and if he did still feel any lingering resentment at how cruelly he was treated, he would still put it aside if need be. and he would forgive him.

in other words, the risk exists that Izuku might grant Katsuki forgiveness that he doesn’t actually feel. if Katsuki is granted Izuku’s forgiveness, he doesn’t have any way to actually tell for sure if it’s real. there would be that element of doubt there, that question of whether or not it’s really sincere. and something like that could ultimately poison their relationship, if things were allowed to play out that way. it would prevent them from being fully able to trust each other. ultimately, it might lead to them drifting apart again, and something like that might ultimately be even more painful than Izuku rejecting Katsuki’s apology outright. and there’s also an argument to be made that Izuku doesn’t deserve to be put on the spot like that, and forced to make that decision one way or the other when he might not be ready to yet. so there’s that to consider as well.

so yeah. four reasons why Katsuki has not apologized to Izuku yet. and they are good reasons, in my book. complicated reasons, too. but none of that changes the fact that at the end of the day this is still something he has to do. his current way of trying to atone through action is great, don’t get me wrong! and it’s necessary too for sure, because like I said, the apology just on its own is never going to be enough. he needs to commit to doing the right thing, and trying his best to make it right between them from here on out. and saving his life is certainly a decent start! but you still gotta say the words too eventually bro.

but there is just a ton of stuff at play here and I find it all fascinating tbh. they are just so, so bad at communicating with each other. and the thing is, they both actually want the same thing! but they want it so badly that ironically it’s almost holding them back right now, because they don’t want to put it at risk. but ultimately this is a leap of faith that Katsuki in particular is going to have to take sooner rather than later in order to finally restore that last bit of trust between the two of them.

so yeah. just two stupid teenage boys who fail at emotions, and who are probably overdue for another of their famous Get It All Out In The Open stupid shounen therapy battles lmao. round 3, featuring Deku’s new robot arms vs Katsuki and his shiny new “like father like son” All Might torso scar. sob.

#bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bakudeku #bakugou meta #deku meta #bnha meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #asks #anon asks

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the-modernmary · 3 years

Text

my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 1)

Summary: When Aaron Hotchner ended your affair with him, saying that a serial killer was going after him and his family, you were content with the idea that you’d probably never see him again. Two years have come and gone since then, but when you get dragged into an FBI investigation as a key witness, you and Hotch are forced to come face to face with all the things left unsaid.

Warnings: n/a

A/N: Thank you for all of the love on the prologue!! like WOW i couldn't have expected that big of a response so THANK YOU!!! As a reminder: I already have the first 17 chapters out on ao3, so I will be updating on here pretty quickly! This takes place two years after the prologue, and this is where the actual storyline starts!

masterlist || read on ao3

Anything you say can and will be held against you

So only say my name

It will be held against you

-Fall Out Boy, “Just One Yesterday”

Present Day- Two Years Later

You tugged at the handcuff that was attaching you to the interrogation table, hoping that if you glared at it enough, it would just go away. One minute, you were at your apartment and getting ready to go out with some of your friends, and the next minute Metro D.C. police were banging on your door, ordering you to go with them, no charges and no explanation.

So now you were just stuck, sitting and waiting for somebody to tell you what the hell this all was about. Law school had taught you enough about interrogation tactics, and they were pulling out all of the stops- turning down the room temperature, forcing you to sit in the most uncomfortable chair you’ve ever been in, and just making you be by yourself in the metal room. A small part of you was nervous, but mostly you were just confused. You couldn’t think of anything you’d done that would warrant your arrest.

Just as the isolation of the room was about to get to you, the door swung open and in walked two people. The first one was a petite blonde woman and following her was a younger looking man in a cardigan. You narrowed your eyes slightly at the site of them. You had expected the usual “good cop/bad cop” technique, but neither of these cops looked very intimidating.

“Hi there,” the woman spoke, sliding into the chair across from you. “My name is Agent Jareau and this is Dr. Reid. We’re here to ask you a few questions.”

Her name sounded familiar, but you couldn’t quite place where you knew it from. You raised an eyebrow and jutted your head towards Dr. Reid. “Is the handsome one not an agent?” you asked, leaning back in your chair.

Dr. Reid seemed unphased by your question, as if he was used to that question. “I am an agent. But I also have three doctorates,” he answered.

You just smirked at him before looking back at Agent Jareau. She had placed a file on the table, the seal of the FBI practically staring you in the face. Whatever they brought you in for was an FBI matter? Oh, you were definitely screwed. You tried to keep your cool. “So are you guys going to actually charge me with anything, or are you just going to hold me for 72 hours until you find something to stick?” you accused.

Agent Jareau shook her head, and you were still desperately trying to remember how you knew that name. “The faster you cooperate, the faster we can let you go.” It didn’t go unnoticed to you that she refused to answer your question. She leaned over the table slightly to slide the file towards you and you caught a glimpse of her ID. Everything came back to you at once.

Jennifer Jareau. FBI. Business cards. “You can set up a formal meeting with me at the BAU…” Holy shit, you did know that name.

You laughed softly to yourself and crossed your legs as the memories came flooding back. “Okay, I’ll cooperate,” you agreed, but you were looking directly at the two way mirror. “But only if I can speak to your unit chief. It still is Aaron Hotchner, correct?” Your voice was innocent enough to not be too suspicious, but you knew it would drive Aaron crazy. It was the same voice you would use when he had a fistfull of your hair and you were promising to be his good girl.

You could only imagine what was going on behind that two way mirror; Aaron’s team looking at him with complete and utter confusion, trying to figure out how you knew him, all while Aaron was probably clenching his teeth, red with anger. Maybe if you made him mad enough, he would bend you over the interrogation table once everybody else had left.

Jennifer and Dr. Reid shared a quick glance before looking back at you. Dr. Reid spoke first. “It would be best if we could go over our questions with you first.”

You bopped your head, pretending to think it over. “I get it, the two of you have a job to do and you have a strategy to stay in control, so I’ll give you guys a choice. You can let me speak to Agent Hotchner or I lawyer up and invoke the 5th.”

Like clockwork, the door swung open violently and Aaron stormed in. “I’ll take it from here,” he ordered, and the other two agents quickly shuffled out of the room.

He sat down in the seat across from you and you just raised the hand that was handcuffed to the table, wiggling your fingers. He was pissed, you could tell, and you loved every second of it. You leaned over the table, signalling for him to move closer to you. He hesitated, which earned him a roll of your eyes, but he eventually leaned over the table too.

“If you wanted me in handcuffs again for you, you didn’t have to go through all this effort. My phone number hasn’t changed,” you whispered, low enough so that the group watching on the other side of the mirror couldn’t hear. He refused to answer and instead just pulled back to his normal seated position. Ever the good agent, Aaron’s face went back to it’s normal, stoic look, and it made you pout. You wanted to get more of a rise out of him.

“Miss. Y/L/N,” he said cooly. “Why don’t we get started?” You realized with a sinking feeling that he was already starting to lose interest in you flirting, his attention focused back on the task at hand, attention that you selfishly wanted all to yourself.

You slipped off the heels you were wearing and stretched your leg out so that your foot could brush against his leg. If you couldn’t touch him with your hands right now, you were going to make sure he could feel you in some way. His eyes shot up to yours, giving you a warning look, as if to say “Stop right now or I’m going to make you.”

You knew that look too well, craved for it even. You just responded with a smirk and dropped your foot, relishing in the fact that he actually looked slightly disappointed that you stopped.

“How are Haley and Jack doing, Aaron?” you asked lazily, leaning back in your chair. “Visiting them more often?”

Aaron cleared his throat and ran his hand down his tie to flatten it, as if it had come out of place. He was always so put together at work. “Jack is fine. Haley passed away a while ago,” he said quickly, and guilt immediately engulfed you.

You lowered your gaze so that you were staring at the interrogation table. “Oh,” you mumbled. “I’m sorry.” And you really were sorry. Sure, your relationship, or lack of relationship, with Haley was weird. You were sleeping with her ex before the divorce papers had time to be fully submitted, and even though Aaron was well in his right to be with whoever he wanted, the two of you still found yourselves sneaking around with each other. But you never had anything against her personally- she seemed like a great mother and obviously made Aaron happy for however long they were married.

Besides, you could take a guess as to what happened to Haley. Your fling with Aaron lasted for a fun few months, neither of you ever expecting anything other than sex whenever you met up, so when you and Aaron had decided to stop seeing each other, it was completely amicable. He had explained that the BAU was closing in on a serial killer who was going after him and his family, and you did not want to be involved in that mess. The fact that Haley died right as a serial killer was chasing her… that definitely wasn’t just a coincidence.

The tension was thick in the room as the two of you desperately searched for how to continue the conversation. What were you supposed to say after finding out your fuck buddy’s ex wife was murdered?

You started talking before your brain could even process what you were saying. “Well, like told you, if you ever need somebody to help you pick up those broken pieces...”

He ignored you, electing to direct the conversation in his own direction. “You know, I read the paper you were working on,” he said casually, and that sure caught you by surprise.

“You did?” you asked.

“You piqued my interest,” he admitted. “Your professor and I worked on a few cases together, so he gave me a copy. It was good. You are much more professional on paper.”

“I could say the same about you,” you countered, and he gave you a hint of a genuine smile.

“Although I did notice that you didn’t mention The People vs. Michaelson anywhere in it.” There was something in his voice that put you on edge. You could feel yourself walking into his trap, but you couldn’t help yourself. You wanted to know more.

You shrugged. “Well, I got some shit information about the case.”

For a split second, you thought you saw a flash of the old Aaron, but just as quickly as it came, it disappeared, and he was business as usual. “What intrigued me even more, however,” he continued, completely ignoring your previous comment. “Was that you didn’t mention recidivism at all, which is what that case is all about. Your thesis was on jury selection. Why ask me about the case if you weren’t going to use the information for school?”

You glared at him and clenched your hands into fists, your nails digging into your palms. What a dick. He knew why you were interested in the case- it mirrored your father’s situation almost perfectly. You were 12 the first time your father was arrested. When your mom realized that your dad was involved with some shady people, she immediately turned him into the cops to protect you. The prosecutor barely even tried during the case and your dad was in and out of prison within two years. The day he was released, he came right back to your home and killed your mom out of revenge. He’s now rotting in a max security prison for life, but you were still angry that he even had the opportunity to come after your mom. It’s why you wanted to become a prosecutor in the first place, so that you could ensure these criminals were actually brought to justice.

Aaron knew all that. You realized as he began to inch the case file closer to you that he was just trying to knock you off balance. The actual interrogation hadn’t even started yet. “And you say that I’m the one who gets under people’s skin,” you snapped at him.

Aaron humed to himself, arrogance oozing off of him. If you weren’t so angry at him, you would have thought it was hot. “You’re currently interning at DuPont and Associates?” You nodded, annoyed at him brushing off your last comment. “What do you know about the recent string of murders in the area?” Aaron asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed at his question. “Um… Just what they’re saying on the news? Somebody has been killing a bunch of people whose cases were dismissed because of technicalities- their Miranda rights were read incorrectly and that kind of stuff. I haven’t really been keeping up,” you admitted, still unsure of why you were there.

Aaron flipped open the case files, and instead of gruesome crime scene photos, you just saw legal briefs. More shocking, however, was that they were all legal briefs you had helped write. “Each of these victims had their initial cases through duPont and Associates, and we found that you were the only person who assisted on every case. What did you think about those dismissals? Some of these people really should have been locked up, wouldn’t you agree?”

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried desperately to find the words to say. Unconsciously, you started to tug at the handcuff again, as if they would suddenly just release you if you fought it enough. “Maybe, but that’s not really my decision,” you said disdainfully. Then the fear and realization slowly creeped into you. “Wait you don’t… you guys don’t think I did this, do you?” Your voice was rough and panicky.

Aaron placed his hands on the cold metal of the interrogation table, his fingers interlocked. His FBI Unit Chief exterior melted away ever so slightly. “No, I don’t,” he said softly, and his use of “I” instead of “We” did not go unnoticed by you. You weren’t sure if you were comforted by that or not. “But you are our best lead right now, and I think you know more than you realize. We have reason to believe that the unsub works for the law firm you’re interning at and is playing out a vigilante fantasy and considering you are the only one who actually worked on every single case, we need to use you and your position at the firm to get more intel.”

We need to use you. He realized his slip before he even finished his sentence. It was innocuous enough that his team probably didn’t even notice it; He was just letting a potential witness know that they were going to be an important part of the investigation. But you knew Aaron better than that, and you could see the wheels turning in his brain as he tried to figure out how to go back on what he just said.

You gave him a smirk and brought your elbows up on the table, steepling your fingers. Of course you were going to help them, whatever they needed. You’d do that even if Aaron wasn’t involved. But after being forcibly brought to the interrogation room, you figured you could make him sweat a little. “Oh Aaron, I’m flattered that you think I could be an asset to the BAU’s investigation. But if you want something from me, you’re going to have to ask for it.”

You got him right where you wanted him. You knew he wasn’t going to be happy with the roll reversal, using his own words against him. But you missed the playful banter between you and Aaron, and nobody knew how to get you off the way he did. Aaron had quite literally ruined sex for you, much to your disappointment. The other people you had slept with since meeting Aaron all lacked the confidence and intelligence that Aaron brought to every meeting, and they could never walk that fine line of fucking you like they adored you and hated you at the same time.

The way that Aaron would demand you to ask and use your words was more than just a way for him to remain in control, although you knew that was definitely part of it. And it was more than just checking for consent- that always came earlier and you had your safeword. No, it was more than all of that. He wanted to hear you beg for the things you wanted, as if he wanted to be validated; He always wanted to know that you still wanted him, which you did. So you just kept asking him for things, and he happily kept giving them to you.

Aaron looked downright murderous, his eyebrows scrunched together and his breathing getting heavier. He stood up and slammed the case file shut. “I’m not going to ask for anything, because where I’m standing, I have the control here. In case you forgot, you’re in handcuffs and I can walk out of here whenever I want.” But even as he said it, he stayed exactly where he was, his hands on the table and leaning down so that he was closer to you.

In return, you just arched your eyebrow at him, waiting for his question. He had to ask you for the sake of his job and the case and you both knew it, and you got a strange satisfaction from watching him have to ask you for something for once. He stared at you for a few moments, jaw clenching, until he realized the entire BAU team was behind the two way mirror watching this situation go down. “Will you please help us with the case?” he asked through gritted teeth.

You gave him a smug smile, which only served to irritate him further. “I would love to,” you told him, your voice too sweet and too innocent. “Now can you please take my handcuffs off?”

Aaron walked towards you wordlessly, taking the keys out of his pockets. “You’ll still have to wait here for a few minutes so that you can sign some papers,” he told you, keeping his voice even, but it all changed as he kneeled next to you, slowly unlocking the handcuffs. His fingers lingered on your skin for far too long to be considered appropriate. “Don’t get too comfortable,” he whispered in your ear, voice low enough so that nobody could hear what he was saying. “You’re going to be in handcuffs for the rest of night while I punish you for that little show you decided to give everybody. Did you already forget how to not be a brat? Do I have to teach you again?”

His words made your arousal shoot straight to your core. You were released with a soft click! and you rubbed your irritated wrist lightly. “Yes,” you practically moaned, and you were sure that your face was flushed. And just like that, it was as if only a few days had passed since you and Aaron had last seen each other, instead of two years. The two of you fell back into an easy rhythm. “I still live in the same apartment. Five minutes from here.”

With that, Aaron stormed out of the interrogation room, already barking orders at the cops. “Get her processed and out of here quickly, I don’t want to spend anymore time on this,” he demanded, making a beeline to grab his stuff. Unfortunately for him, Rossi was standing right in front of Aaron’s bag, a knowing smirk on his face. Aaron stopped mid step and groaned in annoyance. “Dave, don’t.”

Rossi just ignored him. “Old friend?” he asked, stepping aside just enough to let Aaron grab his bag.

Aaron looked around quickly and was relieved to see that there were no other BAU members near them. “You could say that,” Aaron mumbled and started to walk to the doors.

To his dismay, Rossi just followed him. “She’s pretty,” Rossi hummed, and Aaron hated how easily Rossi was able to keep this conversation so casual. “Not your usual type, though.” It didn’t take a profiler to get the underlying comment: She’s young.

Aaron took an audible breath, keeping his eyes on the exit sign that seemed to be getting further and further away. “Yeah, well…” His voice trailed off, unable to find a good response.

“When did you meet her?”

Aaron paused, deciding how honest he was going to be. He figured that if anybody was going to find out, it would be Rossi, and if he was honest with Rossi now, they would be able to keep it a secret from the rest of the team. He cleared his throat. “An alumni event at George Washington. Before Foyet but after the divorce.” Another pause. “Right after the divorce,” he clarified.

Rossi just nodded understandably, a soft “Ah” coming from his lips. He would push the full story out of Aaron later, but it was obvious that Aaron was just desperate to get out of the police station. “Okay, well... I will let the team know about your emergency meeting with Strauss that she just called, which is why you’re leaving so quickly. And if they ask, from what you’re telling me, Y/N is just one of Sean’s old friends from before he dropped out of law school. I’m pretty sure you never got along with his friends, am I correct?” Sometimes, Rossi was too good at thinking on his feet.

Aaron turned to face Rossi, his mouth open and ready to argue, but he knew there was no point. With Rossi’s lie, it would keep the team from asking too many questions, at least until Aaron got his need for you out of his system. Just one night, he promised himself. That’s all I’ll need. So instead of arguing, Hotch just nodded at Rossi, a hint of a smile on his face. It made it all worth it, in Rossi’s eyes. Aaron hadn’t been this excited about a girl since Haley’s death. He deserved a night of fun. “Thank you,” Aaron breathed before swiftly stepping out of the police station.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotcner smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #my best habit #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #my writing

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15-dogs · 3 years

Text

partnered up |r.l.|

pairing: young!remus lupin x fem!reader

summary: you and your long time crush, remus, get partnered up for a defense against the dark arts theory. however, once you realize you two misunderstood the assignment, you’re both forced to stay over winter break with each other to make it up.

prompt: new years kiss

warnings: extremely light swearing, mentions of bloodied bandages (it’s super fluffy i promise!!)

guide: (Y/N) = your name, (Y/L/N) = your last name

word count: 3.3K

a/n: this is for @whack-ed and @jamilelucato‘s writing challenge (which you can check out here!) thank you so much for letting me participate! go check out their blogs!!

•••

Remus couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You whispered with Lily at the desk in front of him while your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor turned his back.

Remus’ eyes trained on you, watching your every movement. He was absolutely enamored with the little things you did: the way your nose scrunched up when you laughed, the way your fingers drummed on the table while you spoke, the way your eyes would shift between Lily and the professor, seemingly taunting Remus but just grazing over his figure.

“Moony!” Sirius hissed, nudging Remus.

“What?” Remus finally looked away from you to eye his friend.

“Would you just go talk to her? I think I’m going to lose my mind if I have to see you ogling her every day.”

Remus’s brow knit together with annoyance. “What are you talking about? I don’t fancy her.”

Sirius’ eyes shot open with a taunt. “I never said that you did.”

Remus shook his head, looking away from Sirius back towards your seat. “It was implied,” he grumbled.

When Remus looked at your desk, you were gone. He searched around the room for you and realized that no one else was in their seats. His eyes continued to scan the room until a soft and familiar giggle interrupted him. His gaze snapped up to yours as you stood by his side.

“Were you listening?” you teased.

“I...er…” Remus’ cheeks heated up as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You nudged his shoulder with your hip, your hands clasped behind your back and eyes at the front of the classroom. “I’m just messing with you. We’re partners for this assignment, Lupin.”

His eyes lit up and his stomach flipped as he jumped to his feet. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” you chuckled. You nodded your head for him to follow as you said, “What do you want to do for the assignment? I was thinking that we could do a series of essays or a collection of data composed into a journal of our works— something research based, preferably.”

Remus scuffed his feet along the tiling, finding it much more comfortable to stare at the ground. You stopped when you realized that he wasn’t following you. You ducked down to meet his eyes with a lazy smile tugging at your lips that had him weak in the knees.

“Let me guess,” you began, “you weren’t paying attention then, either?”

“I...no, not really.”

You reached out to take his hand in yours, making his heart lurch. You had no idea what you were doing to him, your delicate grasp around his calloused palm. Having the girl he fancied for years be so close to him coupled with his heightened senses was dangerous, to say the least; your smell was intoxicating and he was doing everything he could not to act on his feelings then and there.

“What’s got you so distracted, Lupin?” Your voice grounded him and he attempted to push his thoughts about what he wanted to do to you down, deep in the back of his mind. “You’re usually so on top of your game. You may even rival Lily for wits.”

Remus quirked a brow. “That must be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” he joked. You dipped your head in silent laughter.

“I aim to please.”

“Well, you’re doing a great job.”

A wide smile crept onto your face and that familiar feeling of butterflies occupied your stomach as you stared down Remus’s lopsided grin. You quickly let go of his hand, fearful that the feeling would stay permanently if you kept holding it. You rubbed your hands on your sweater before clasping them in front of your body, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet.

“Anyway,” you sighed, “we’re doing a project on Defense theory.”

“Oh,” he scoffed with a sense of conviction, “then research-based, of course. When is it due?”

“Monday before winter break.”

Remus pulled a horribly crumpled paper out of his robe pocket, unfolding it with haste. “I’m tutoring every day after classes except for Fridays.” He finally looked up at you, his piercing blue-green eyes staring straight through you. “Could you meet me at the library after class on Friday?”

You nodded lamely, feeling as if you couldn’t get words out of your mouth. “Yeah, Friday after school works for me.”

“Brilliant.” Remus crumpled up the paper once more and stuffed it into his pocket.

As Remus’ friends appeared by his side and escorted him from the classroom, you had a strange feeling settle in your stomach: you weren’t too sure that you could wait until Friday to talk to him again.

•••

Days came and went, each more meaningful than the next as Friday approached. You had no idea what had you so anxious in your last class. You were bouncing your leg up and down as your distracted eyes scoured the classroom. Lily nudged you a few times, whispering an answer under her breath when the professor called on you.

Nearing the end of class, you and Lily were working on an assignment together when she asked, “What has gotten into you?”

Your brows knit together as you eyed your friend. “Is it that obvious?”

An amused smile tugged at the corners of Lily’s lips. “Is this about Remus?”

“And what if it is?”

“Then I’d say you fancy the boy.”

You nudged Lily, rolling your eyes. “Sod off.”

Lily knew about your not-so-little crush on Remus, even before you had told her aloud. You knew he didn’t feel the same so you constantly checked yourself to make sure your emotions were under control around him.

So, at the end of the day, you made your way as calmly yet quickly as you could to the library, hoping to spend a little more time with him to justify your feelings. You didn’t see him there when you arrived but you weren’t discouraged, rather you found a secluded desk that just barely gave you a view of the entrance so you could wave him over.

But time kept passing and you kept waiting. You checked the clock above the shelves of books, hoping maybe you screwed up the times, but you didn’t. You then began to ask around to see if it truly was Friday, which it was. And then, worst of all, you began to think that you misheard him and blew him off.

You waited there for a few hours, deciding to make yourself busy with work. You started the project, checking out a few books and developing your thesis.

You tried to work in the library just in case Remus showed, you really did, but everyone was just too loud. Your head pounded and your tiredness overtook you, so you picked up your things and walked down to the hospital wing in hopes of some draught for your pulsing headache.

As you entered the wing, books in hand, you heard faint whispers from familiar voices surrounding a single bed, piquing your interest. You rounded the corner, finding three boys talking to another boy in a bed. Not just any boy, but him.

“Remus?” you asked.

The three boys whipped around, eyes wide and heads shaking as you approached. “You shouldn’t be here,” James warned.

You ignored him and butt through the crowd to find Remus, asleep and bandaged in his cot. You gasped, staring at the bloodied cloth that was pressed against his cheek. “What happened to him?”

The boys began to mumble excuses, all of which hit your tuned out ears. You frowned, pulling a chair from beside an empty bed to sit next to Remus’s sleeping form. You pulled your bag onto your lap, unloading a few books and papers onto the nightstand.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing, (Y/L/N)?” asked Sirius.

Without looking up, you stated, “We have a project due on Monday and I’m not going to wait to start it.” You finally met the boys’ eyes, yours serious and matter of fact while they were in complete shock. “Besides, I’ll keep Lupin company. Go on, now. I’ll watch him.”

“(Y/L/N)-” James began before Sirius cut him off, eyes wide and nodding.

“No, no, Prongs. Let her stay, Remus will want to see her when he wakes up.”

You pretended not to hear him but your cheeks were dusted with a rosy blush. Sirius clapped you on the back, evoking a small chuckle from you as the boys scooted out of the hospital wing.

As soon as the boys left, you stopped fiddling with the papers in your lap to look up at Remus. You frowned at his scarred face, your hand curling to stop yourself from holding his. He looked so peaceful for the first time in quite a long time, and you realized that you didn’t think you could look away. So you scooted your chair over, freeing your nondominant hand to hold his as you worked on the assignment, a fleet of butterflies occupying your stomach.

You had fallen asleep still holding Remus’s hand later in the night once you had cleared things about your appearance with Pomfrey. You only woke up when you felt someone pulling the papers out of your lap. Your eyes fluttered open, seeing Remus frowning as he held your notebook in one hand and gripped the mattress in the other.

“Did I wake you?” he asked before cursing at himself under his breath. “That was a stupid question, I know I just woke you up.”

You chuckled lightly. “It’s fine, Remus, I should’ve been working on the project anyway.”

The sandy haired boy awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed that you had brought the project up. “Sorry I haven’t been so helpful with that. I ended up...getting into a fight on Friday?”

You furrowed your brow. “I’m sorry, was that a question?”

“Yes…?”

You began to laugh again, but this time Remus joined you. “Well, whatever happened to you, you’re fine now. I’ve been talking to Pomfrey and she assured me you’ll be out of here on Monday.”

“What day is it?”

“Saturday.”

Remus sat up straight in bed, tugging your notebook fully onto his lap. “Shit, well, we need to start this project then.”

•••

Spending the entire weekend with Remus was heavenly. You two worked day in and day out to finish your research paper, editing everything down to the last period before Defense Against the Dark Arts.

As you entered the classroom, you felt a wave of sadness wash over you; no more excuses to be alone with Remus anymore. You frowned, tugging your robes tighter around your body as you imagined what it would be like for him to hold you.

The time came for you two to announce the synopsis of your paper so you stood at the front of the class with him, straightening out your tie with a shy smile. Remus held up the thick stack of papers you two had written up with a proud glance down at you.

“Miss (Y/L/N) and I have written up a paper on the practical applications of Defense theory-”

“Mr. Lupin,” Professor Wallace interrupted, “you do know that— if you were to do practical theory— you have to design a demonstration, yes?”

You looked up at him, a shared expression of panic on both your faces. Remus finally peeled his eyes away from you to shake his head gently at your professor who simply huffed, pointing you back towards your seats. Students began to whisper and giggle at your misfortune, reveling in the sheer schadenfreude that they experienced as yours and Remus’ ears went red with embarrassment.

You could barely pay attention during the rest of the presentations. It ate you up inside how Remus might only remember you as the girl who helped him flunk his project in Defense. You were so consumed by that thought that you didn’t even realize class had ended until Remus tapped you on the shoulder.

“Hey, I didn’t know about it either. Don’t be upset,” he whispered. “I hate seeing you upset.”

You flashed a soft smile at him, a warmth blossoming in your chest at his words. You chewed your bottom lip to contain yourself from positively beaming at him as you nodded, feeling more overwhelmed with your feelings for him than before.

“Mr. Lupin and Miss (Y/L/N)?” Professor Wallace called from the head of the classroom as students exited. “Please come here. I’d like to discuss your project.”

That warmth died immediately and was replaced by a crippling fear that started low in your stomach, a void that sucked in all the good things that Remus made you feel.

Remus hopped up from his chair alongside you and walked up to the desk, his lips pressed in a firm line. “Professor, this was all my fault-”

“What in Merlin’s name are you saying, Remus-” you shot out. Remus was not going to take the blame for you, you wouldn’t let him.

“I wasn’t paying attention. Don’t give Miss (Y/L/N) a poor grade just because of me-”

“Don’t say that! It was my fault, Remus, and you know it-”

“Silence! Both of you! Please!” Professor Wallace’s voice began to falter at your bickering. He rubbed both of his temples with one hand, his eyes clenched shut. “I understand that you were ill over the weekend, Mr. Lupin, and I also understand that being a prefect has its tolls so I’m allowing you lot to make up the assignment.”

You and Remus let out a sigh of relief, exchanging a quick grin at one another.

“We really appreciate it, professor-” As soon as you started, you were cut off.

“But I’m not going to make this easy. You two must stay here over break and there will be more work than before. I want to make sure that you’re really listening to my instructions this time around.”

You desperately wanted to protest but you simply couldn’t; you didn’t quite have the words. You weren’t going home for break in the first place but it seemed rather unnecessary to add more work onto what you had already completed with Remus. Judging from Remus’ knit brows, he was having the same dilemma as well. So you two accepted the assignment, not knowing that that break would be the start of something wonderful and new.

•••

Although the assignment had an increased workload, it was easy to spread out among the two weeks that you were given. The best part of all was that you got to spend time alone with Remus in the castle where there were no more than 20 other students to bother you.

On Christmas night, you sat in front of the fireplace editing your essay as Remus practiced spells on a small paper crane he had folded. You looked up for a moment, smiling at how peaceful and handsome he looked with his sleeves rolled up and shirt untucked.

And, entirely unlike you, the words just...came out of your mouth. “You’re quite handsome like that, you know.”

Remus blushed, his eyebrows raised as he slowly turned his head to face your mortified expression. “I...thanks.”

You cleared your throat awkwardly, looking down at your paper again. “Right, yeah.”

But that wasn’t the last time something of that nature happened. Remus told you he was “driven mad” when he saw you practicing your spells for the demonstration, and you promptly told him that he drives you mad, to which you both stopped talking to each other for the rest of the night out of sheer embarrassment.

Perhaps it was the fact that you two were cooped up together for nearly a week and a half then, or perhaps it was the fact that you two had felt something there for quite some time but neither of you had the guts to do anything about it. Either way, both of you were acting entirely stupid around the other, wondering if they knew by now how you felt about them.

The days leading up to your presentation dwindled and so did the time you had to spend with Remus. You assumed that he likely would not want to talk to you afterwards and just want to spend his New Years alone, seeing as how he must be positively sick of you. So you found it rather strange when you finished your (outstanding) project, that Remus settled beside you on the couch in the common room with his old radio so you two could listen to the New Year’s Eve countdown.

“In my town,” he explained, “we used to gather in the center and celebrate New Years. I quite liked it. First year not being there.”

You cowered. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault that you’re not there now.”

Remus shook his head furiously, wrapping his arm around the back of the couch where you sat. “I wasn’t going home this year anyway. And, besides, (Y/N), you didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one who was distracted.”

You crossed your legs and swung around to face Remus, admiring his scars. “You keep talking about being distracted; what were you distracted about in the first place?”

“Funnily enough,” he began, scratching the back of his neck, “it was you.”

You snorted and shoved Remus playfully, although he didn’t seem to be smiling. “Come off it, mate.”

“I’m not joking. I remember it because you looked particularly beautiful that day.” Your eyes went wide at his words and you were unable to speak, so he continued on. “You always look beautiful when you take notes. You chew your bottom lip when you write a long sentence down and you give a little nod when you understand something. It’s all very adorable, if you ask me. I couldn’t stop staring at you and Sirius called me out on it.”

You were positive that your face was redder than the fire that illuminated you, your hands sweating as you tried to rub them on your pants as inconspicuous as possible. You could barely focus on anything but your ever-beating heart, pounding ferociously in your chest. The only thing that you could hear above it was the 30 second countdown coming from his radio.

“Have you ever had a New Year’s kiss, Remus?” you asked, your voice just barely louder than the announcer’s.

Remus leaned in closer, his hand inching up to your waist and curling around it. “I haven’t.”

“Neither have I,” you admitted as you crawled up close to him. “But I fear that I’ll be making a rather large mistake if I don’t do this tonight because Merlin knows when I’ll get the courage to do it again.”

“3...2...1! Happy New Year!”

The second the words registered, you held Remus’s face in your hands, pulling him into a long overdue kiss. Your world spun around you as his lips moved perfectly in sync with yours, feeling like they were supposed to be there all along. You pulled away a moment later, placing one last chaste peck as he followed your lips, desperate for more. Remus rested his forehead against yours, his calloused hand running its course down your cheek before he tugged you onto his lap, clasping his hands around your back.

“I have to admit,” you began, “I’ve never been more glad to flunk a project in my life. Starting the New Year this way is good luck, I believe.”

Remus chuckled, pulling you closer to him to plant yet another kiss on your lips. “Well then, love, I suppose we’ll have plenty of good luck this coming year.”

As your heart eased into a steady rhythm and your worries dissipated, you smiled and mumbled against him, “I suppose we can never be too careful.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @pandaxnienke

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nugnthopkns · 3 years

Text

take the sadness out of saturday night

word count: 2.8k

warnings: insinuated fem!reader, a couple of curse words, alcohol consumption, vaguely described feelings of inadequacy

recommended listening: chinatown | bleachers featuring bruce springsteen

a/n: will i ever write anything more than 3k? probs not. also this baby is completely self indulgent but i don’t even care

All you want to do is sleep. Or drink an entire bottle of wine. Maybe both.

Graduate school is a lot harder than you expected it to be. You obviously weren’t naïve enough to think it be as easy as your undergrad, but you didn’t think it would be like this. It’s competitive; with people doing whatever it takes to get ahead. You’ve almost had your thesis topic stolen twice. The workload is also incredibly different. Gone are the days of small tests and assignments: everything relies on your thesis paper being of the utmost quality. You feel like you’re drowning in the middle of the ocean.

Today was the worst in a succession of terrible days. On the way to campus you dropped your coffee but didn’t have enough time to get another one. The conditions didn’t get any better once you reached school. Your lunch got left behind on the kitchen island and your advisor didn’t show up for your meeting, putting you another two weeks behind schedule. To top it off, you left campus later than usual and caught in the horrendous Philadelphia traffic. By the time you reach your apartment complex you’re thoroughly exhausted and two seconds away from crying.

How you can afford your current lodging is beyond you. Tuition is waived by the university, which certainly helps, but you’re mostly relying on loans. It will be a bitch to pay off in a few years, but you don’t have any other option. The building isn’t ridiculously flashy, with semi-outdated furnishing, but it’s in a central location that anyone in Philly would kill for. Every day you wake up grateful there isn’t an eviction notice on your door; though you’re very careful to pay rent on time. Only the small lamp in the entryway is on when you unlock the door, but you keep it that way. Kicking off your sneakers and haphazardly hanging up your jacket, you shuffle into the bedroom portion of the studio. The pyjamas tucked under the pillow are calling your name, and it feels so good to free yourself of business casual clothing.

The next stop on your mad-dash around in order to plant yourself on the couch as quickly as possible is the bathroom. You scrub your face vigorously, knowing you’ll pay for it in a few days when a breakout appears, but you can’t find it within you to care. It feels so good to be clean and in control of a situation. The kitchen is where you meander to next, filling the largest glass you can find with rosé. A bag of candy is grabbed as well, and then you’re tucking yourself into the corner of the couch and piling on the blankets. You open Netflix and briefly debate what to watch before deciding on something you’ve seen a million times before that won’t require your full attention.

Half an hour into the film you get hungry, but with no ambition to cook for yourself. Take out it is. You place an order at your favourite sushi joint and lazily return your gaze to the T.V. The scene on the screen no longer appeals to you, so you dig around the cushions to find your phone. It’s been a while since you’ve called your mom and you know she’s been missing you; truth be told you miss her a resounding amount. Philadelphia is a long ways from home and you can’t afford to travel often. Not being near your pillar of support is definitely wearing on you. She picks up on the fifth ring.

“Hello?”

A tear slips out at the sound of her voice. Yours catches in your throat slightly, and your response is garbled. “Mom,” it breaks at the end, and the tears quickly turn into a waterfall.

“Oh honey,” she sighs, chest filling with pain at your apparent despair. “What’s the matter?”

You sob for a minute or two before it subsides enough for you to actually speak. Through hiccups and sniffles you detail your horrible week, and the one before that for good measure. Your mom stays silent, listening with intent, and the one sided conversation eventually turns into you fretting about how you feel inadequate in your academic community and how you can’t picture a future. Only once you’ve ran out of words does she speak, negating the argument put in place by your imposter syndrome and doing her best to inflate your ego.

“You’ve earned your seat at the table Y/N,” she says with conviction. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you deserve to be there. You’re cut out for this; no one is more passionate about their work than you.”

Another hiccup slips past your lips as you respond. “Thanks Mom.”

You don’t have to see her to know she’s sporting a smile. “We’re so proud of you honey, and always will be. No matter what you decide to do. Hell, you could move to Peru to become an alpaca farmer and your dad and I would be the happiest parents on Earth.”

The comment is meant to make you laugh, citing the time you called her during your undergrad to inform her you were dropping out and moving to the Andes. It works. You can’t help it, and have to admit it feels good after days of negative feelings. She distracts you further, recounting a story about your youngest brother’s recent baseball game that ended with a trip to the hospital after an unfortunate sliding incident. You wince at the mention of the basemen’s cleat colliding with his ankle, and chuckle when she talks about Connor singing showtunes in the recovery room. The story swapping continues, and it brings comfort. If you close your eyes you can envision yourself sitting on your mom’s bed, hiding your face in a pillow when anything embarrassing happens.

A knock at your door ends your conversation, and the sadness slowly trickles back into your bones. “Mom, I’ve gotta go. The delivery person is here.”

“Okay sweetie. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Having lost track of time, you’re wildly unprepared to pay for your food. “One minute,” you yell in the direction of the front door, praying the person on the other side heard you. You root around your wallet for the appropriate amount of cash before sliding across the floor and unlocking the door handle. The person standing there is not in fact a food delivery service worker, but your neighbour from across the hall, holding what you presume to be your dinner.

“Nolan?”

To say you’re shocked is an understatement. Though you’d go as far to say the two of you are casual acquaintances, he’s never shown up unannounced on your doorstep. Most of your interactions take place in the elevator or hallway, and you’ve only been inside his apartment once when you left your keys in your advisor’s office. Being a professional hockey player means he typically isn’t around a lot, but you had learned from a friend he’s spending the season sidelined by an injury. He still hasn’t been around a lot from what you could tell.

His low rumble catches you off guard for a millisecond but it doesn’t take long to adjust. “They, uh, sent it to the wrong door,” he mumbles, holding out the bag to illustrate his point.

“Fuck,” you swear. “Sorry. How much do I owe you?” A ballpark figure is in your brain, but you aren’t above throwing in a few extra dollars for the inconvenience. No one wants to receive their neighbour’s food.

Nolan shakes his head profusely and shoves his hands in his pockets when you try to slip the money into them. “It’s on the house,” he shrugs. “Think of it as an apology for being a shit neighbour these past couple of months.”

“You’re a great neighbour Nolan. I have no complaints.” He returns your smile but doesn’t speak. An awkward tension fills the air between you, almost as if each of you is waiting for the other to talk.

“Well I’ll let you –”

“Would you like some company?”

The question stops you dead in your tracks. A look of bewilderment must appear on your face because Nolan starts blabbering. “It’s just that you looked upset when you came to the door, like you’ve been crying. I can also see the nearly empty bottle of wine on the counter and that’s never a good sign.” He pauses for a second to take a breath before blurting out a final sentence. “And there’s a game tonight and if I don’t distract myself from it I think I might die.” Ragged breathing punctuates the sudden stoppage, and when you look up to meet his eyes you feel a sense of desperation.

Without saying anything you open the door wider and retreat into the unit, hoping he gets the hint. It takes him all of two seconds to follow you, quickly darting across the hall to lock his door. You’re at the fridge when he returns, and turn around to ask him what he’d like to drink.

“It seems like an alcohol kind of night,” you chuckle. “What are you having?”

He looks at you sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck. “Could I have a glass of that rosé?”

You nod and gesture for him to pass you the bottle. “Never pegged you as a wine drinker,” you comment as you fill his cup.

“Travis teases me relentlessly so I don’t keep it at the house anymore. Can only drink it in private.”

At the mention of his teammate’s name you understand. It’s exhausting to fit into someone’s mould of you. “Your secret is safe with me.”

The two of you migrate to the couch and once again become shrouded in silence. It’s comfortable this time, as you nurse your glasses and watch the skyline. Just having someone by your side is enough to quell the upset you’ve felt all day. You wonder why you hadn’t sought Nolan out sooner. It seems he’s been in a similar situation; having terrible days and feeling alone. Conversation only comes once he realizes both your drinks are empty. Nolan opens the fridge to find one more bottle of wine; a cheap, fruity one that’s meant to taste like a cooler. It’s strawberry flavoured, which equal parts thrills and disgusts him. He’s thrown back to his first high school party, when this was the only alcohol he could get his friends’ older sisters to buy him.

“I feel like I’m sixteen again,” he laughs, not bothering to fill his glass. Instead, he swigs from the bottle before reaching over the back of the couch and placing in your lap. You follow his lead, drinking directly from the vessel.

“Don’t judge me,” you huff. “I like the way it tastes.”

Nolan gazes sideways at you before dropping his voice to a near whisper. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

In a streak of boldness that came from god knows where, you place a hand on top of his. He doesn’t retract but doesn’t push forward either. You’re too scared to do anything else, and soon retract your hand and place it in your lap. “So,” you cough. “You need a distraction?”

☀☀☀☀

One comedy special turned into three, and it’s safe to say both you and Nolan are feeling exponentially better than when he knocked on your door. The alcohol flowed until you ran out, but neither of you are drunk. Perhaps tipsy; most definitely content. It’s so nice to enjoy someone’s company without the pressure of maintaining a perfect appearance. Nolan must feel it too, because he slowly begins to open up, talking about his career and ambitions for a life after hockey. You sit quietly, much like your mother had done hours before, as he describes his frustration with the migraines and how he yearns to bond with his teammates.

“I’m just so scared this is it, that I’m done,” he hiccups.

You tentatively shuffle closer to him, looking for signs that he’s uncomfortable. Once you’re squished beside him, shoulder to shoulder, you take yet another page from your mother’s book. “If tonight is a good indicator of who you are, then you, Nolan Patrick, are going to be just fine. Seems to me that this is nothing but a bump in the road. You’re destined for greatness.”

He smiles, possibly the first completely real one he’s given you all night, and it reaches his eyes. “You really think that?”

“Absolutely. Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t believe it to be true. You see, in my line of work, truth is of the utmost importance.”

At Nolan’s incessant prodding you talk about school, your thesis, and what you hope to achieve. It doesn’t sting the way you thought it would, possibly because you’re speaking to someone who’s completely enamored with the topic. Academia clearly fascinates Nolan, though he makes it clear he has no interest in joining the community. The only way you can describe the feeling of explaining everything to him is refreshing; he asks insightful questions about your research and isn’t bogged down by the technicalities like so many of your fellow scholars. When you’ve exhausted all you can say and Nolan’s ‘poked’ holes in all of your theories, he gets a serious look and turns so your body is framed by his.

In this position there’s no denying how attractive he is. Of course you’ve always found him easy to look at when you passed in the halls, but knowing him as intimately as you now do makes you realize how much you like him. “Come to a game with me?” he asks.

Your rhythm is once again thrown off by the man in front of you. “A game?”

Nolan nods enthusiastically. “A game. I’ve been meaning to go to one for a while, but I can’t find the courage to go alone. The next home game is on Tuesday, but we can obviously go to another one when it fits your schedule. If you want to come, that is.”

He’s yet to be this excited about hockey all night, and who are you to deny your newfound friend something he wants so badly? “Tuesday’s perfect Nolan.” He pumps his fist in happiness and you giggle at his antics.

“I’m so happy I could kiss you.” It slips out before he realizes, and the shock on his face lets you know it was an accident.

“You can if you want.”

You’re surprised at your own boldness, but don’t have much time to read into what the statement could mean because Nolan’s leaning in to rest his forehead against yours.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The moment his lips touch yours it feels like a homecoming. He’s gentle but firm, letting you know he doesn’t want this to be a one time thing without saying anything at all. Nolan brings to you a sort of warmth that settles in your chest that makes you truly content with how life is going. You lose yourself in him, letting your heart steer the ship. He never waivers from you, only pulling back slightly to card his fingers through your hair. They settle at the nape of your neck and make shivers tingle your spine. You’re impossibly close, but you wish it would never end. After what feels like a millennia you break apart, chests heaving slightly from the lack of oxygen.

You can’t find the words, but you know you never want to be without Nolan again. All the anguish you experienced earlier feels light years away after a few short hours of truly knowing him. It seems that he’s on the same page, because Nolan makes no effort to remove himself from the situation. In fact, he seems perfect content to never move again: arm comfortably around your shoulder as he places a chaste kiss to the crown of your head.

“So is Tuesday a date now?” You squeak, voice small. You’re worried you’ve ruined the moment, but he cuts off your overthinking with a squeeze your bicep.

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” he replies, and you know he means it.

You can’t help yourself and slot your lips against his once again. “I’d like that a lot. There’s one condition though: I want to meet Gritty.”

Nolan’s laugh echoes off the walls and sounds like the sweetest melody you’ve ever heard. “Think I can manage to pencil you in to the schedule. It has a soft spot for me.”

As he reaches for the remote to put on highlights of the game that’s well over, you shuffle to rest your head comfortably in his lap. Your fingers find his and lazily combine. Nolan mumbles something you don’t quite catch, something about a play Travis made, but you hum in agreement anyways. He’s most likely right. Your eyes begin to droop, and as you fall asleep you forget why you were even sad in the first place.

☀☀☀☀

taglist: @jamiedrysdales if you want to be added shoot me an ask :)

#nolan patrick imagine #nolan patrick x reader #nolan patrick fic #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #cwrites

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peaches-writes · 4 years

Text

off season

description: student athletes need to look out for each other—well, at least seungmin needs to look out for your clumsy ass most of the time member: seungmin genre: fluff, sports au, best friends to lovers au, slice of life au, summer au, a side of college au (but like the ugly ass summer classes aspect of college life), implied fem reader word count: 11.3k warning: explicit language, blood, injuries, extreme sports, a very poor attempt at writing sports, seungmin worries the entire time for good reason note: a bunch of stuff put together it’s not rlly good sldkfsk like it was getting too lengthy i had to like haphazardly end it somehow + the one time you see me write a sports-themed fic & it’s not abt the actual sports i play lmao + also hi @t-toodumbtocare u told me to tag u so here we are

one - saturday

Amidst preparations for your incoming senior thesis, choosing your course specialization, clubs, and training, Kim Seungmin rushed getting his driver’s license before the end of your 3rd year’s 2nd semester for the sole purpose of driving you around the city this summer and you’re quite sure that that’s love. Though he disapproves of your specific choice of escapade that has you running around Seoul in circles in the first place, your best friend still made sure to pass his driving classes a whole month before the previous semester ended and with flying colors so he can “look after you” as he would put it. It definitely is love—simultaneously a heartwarming and annoying one at that.

“I can take care of myself, I’m an adult,” You feign a frown at him stubbornly for the third time this month, sliding in the front seat of his navy Subaru anyway and placing your gym bag in front of your feet. You then busy yourself with taking your roller skates out, switching them out with your old Converse. “and it’s not like I don’t know how to commute.”

But, just as you’ve had this conversation every time he picks you up from your dorm on Saturday evenings, Seungmin only dismisses your argument and replies, “Yeah, and you know transport is not the main reason why I chaperone.” From the corner of your eye, you then see him expertly shifting the gears and turning the steering wheel, driving the car to the campus’ South gate, his serious expression unwavering and making you stifle a giggle. “You could get seriously hurt playing. Your mom will kill me and your coach will kill you for that.”

“But I haven’t yet.” You counter with a slight teasing in your tone, pretending to ignore his last comment. You don’t even repeat this argument every week in the hopes of changing Seungmin’s mind at this point; after almost two months of the same starting conversation between the two of you, you just press his buttons now for fun. Undeniably, it’s funny seeing him get visibly riled up. “I’ve been playing derby for two months and the most I’ve gotten is a severely bloody nose. It’s nothing I can’t handle—“

“Yet.” He scoffs now in frustration before turning right to the main highway, well-aware of what you’re doing but letting himself get stressed anyway. “Even athletes get seriously hurt in the field, Y/N, we both know that.”

You only nod with a hum, twisting your body to Seungmin’s direction and poking his side. “I know, Minnie.” You assure, softer now as you finally let out the chuckle you’ve been holding. “Now relax, loosen up a bit! You know I’m just messing with you!”

“I know and it’s getting a bit concerning.” He rolls his eyes, finally relaxing his shoulders a bit and sighing in disbelief before swiftly swatting your hand away from his waist. “You talk like you’re not training for next year’s Championships.”

“Ah, but it’s because training isn’t as strict yet, at least with mine.” You shrug, sitting up properly in your seat as you take this opportunity to change the topic. “How’s your training, by the way? I barely saw you this week. Is Jeno giving you a hard time as co-capt.?”

You sink in your seat and look up at Seungmin expectantly after, smiling unconsciously when he doesn’t respond immediately to focus on driving, giving you a brief moment to admire his focused expression. “Training’s okay.” He eventually replies, quirking an eyebrow when he briefly glances at you over his shoulder and catches you staring. “Surprisingly, Jeno’s chill with being co-capt. We’re getting along.”

“’Chill,’ you mean lazy like you.” You scoff playfully. “Why have you been too busy to hang out this week, then?”

“Practicing my driving so I don’t accidentally kill you first before roller skating could.” He answers dryly, making you roll your eyes. “That and Mr. Im’s giving too much papers for an intersession class.”

“Right, summer classes. So responsible.” You scrunch up your nose. “Aren’t you tired? Training, summer classes, driving me on Saturdays, not to mention we’re going to be seniors after the break...”

When you don’t speak after trailing off, you see him shaking his head. “A bit, but driving you around is relaxing.” He corrects casually, missing the way he catches you off-guard. “It helps me think and, like I’ve said before, I get to look after you so, seriously, don’t try sneaking around me and commuting on your own or I’ll start panicking.”

Now, that is new to your Saturday conversation starter.

“Really now?” You raise your own eyebrow, trying your best to not sound too surprised. “So you don’t hate this as much as you make it seem like?”

“I didn’t say that.” Though visibly caught off-guard too, he shakes his head as seriously as he can look, not even sparing you a glance this time as he makes another turn. “But making sure you’re alive is kind of part of the best friend job.” He explains after, making you laugh. “And driving—driving’s always fun.”

“Sure, sure.” You smile as you try playing it off coolly, looking down on your hands as heat rises up your neck. “Whatever you say, Minnie.”

You first got into roller derby through Yuna, a freshman in your university and a fellow figure skater who began training alongside you during the 1st semester of your 3rd year. Sometime almost two months ago, one of her derby team members, Yeji, had to cancel a few days prior to an important game to attend to her personal matters and so she immediately turned to you as a possible substitute, noting your figure skating skills and how you’re already familiar with the sport from occasionally watching her. Naturally, with your adventurous streak, curiosity got the best of you when presented with the offer and, especially after winning the game, you’ve been hooked ever since; meeting up with her and the rest of the all-girls team almost every Friday and Saturday at the warehouse on the way to Incheon where the games are usually held.

So naturally, she always makes sure to meet you at the entrance of the venue, especially now that she’s not training with you for the summer to focus on her own summer classes and a part-time job.

“Finally, you’re here! I missed you!” She hurriedly waves at Seungmin before throwing an arm around your shoulder in a side hug. “How have you two been, lovebirds?”

“Ya, Minnie and I aren’t like that.” You roll your eyes as you briefly hug her back by her waist, careful of her arm injury from two Saturdays ago while expertly hiding the heat flaming your cheeks. With this gesture, you almost miss the way Seungmin’s lips frown every so slightly in front of you, if it’s because of the nickname or your reaction to it, you dare not to ask for fear of further embarrassment. “And I’ve been well, Coach Park isn’t going beast mode on me yet. Seungmin here’s been busy, though.”

“Oh, right! I heard from Jeno that your first game’s in 2 weeks already.” Yena then turns to your best friend expectantly. “How’s training? The game’s on a Saturday, right?”

“It’s...fine,” Seungmin answers slowly with a hum, almost as if he’s hesitant on what word to use. You then see him narrow his eyes at you when he sees the mischievous glint in your eyes at the familiar question. “...chill, actually.”

“Chill as in lazy.” And as expected, you chime in the same words you commented on the car ride to the venue, making Yuna throw her head back in laughter. “You know how our friends are.”

“As expected of Seungmin and Jeno together, I guess.” She nods in confirmation between laughs, making Seungmin groan in defeat even more. “How do boys in team sports even do it? Train, I mean?”

You shrug in response, giggling at Seungmin’s annoyed expression directed mostly to you. “Guess we’ll have to see in two weeks, right? Are you free on that weekend?”

“Yeah, intersession’s been hectic, but I’ll try and clear my schedule!”

“Oh coo—!” But before you could even comment more on a possible hangout with Yuna, Seungmin is already directing the three of you inside the warehouse impatiently. “Ya!”

“Yeah, yeah, finish your game tonight first then I’ll think about letting you in mine. Aish, you two are so mean to me and Jeno all the time.” He huffs with a roll of eyes, stopping right in front of the path behind the audience bleachers leading to the locker rooms.

Turning to you again, he then bids you goodbye with an affectionate pat to your head and a long sigh. “Be careful tonight, okay? Make sure to wear your gear properly.”

“Always am.” You assure with a wink, holding your gear up in front of him before he can take another step back. “Relax, would you? Just enjoy the show tonight!”

Seungmin nods at you with pursed lips one last time before waving goodbye as he starts retreating back into the crowd, most likely to join your other friends at the bleachers. “I’ll see you on the rink!”

“I’ll be the one with the star on my helmet!” You jokingly remind with a chuckle, smiling when he acknowledges you with a final wave before finally turning around to walk away properly.

“Ah, lovebirds.” Yuna comments on the side once Seungmin fully disappears into the crowd, making you glare at her at already knowing where this conversation is going to lead to. “Every single time you’re here without fail. So romantic!”

“Yuna!” You scold much like you’ve been doing the past two months, throwing your arm around her shoulder this time as the two of you now turn left to the lockers. “It’s really not like that!”

“I’m friends with Kai and Jeno but you don’t see those two caring if I die on the rink every game. I’m pretty sure they want me dead more than anything, even.” She points out in defense. “I’m telling you, Seungmin’s a whole keeper! And you already told me you like him too so what’s stopping yo—“

“We’re not dating ever.” You insist stubbornly, entering the locker rooms now where your teammates greet you (and Yeji scolds you again for arriving late). “He’s just looking out for me because he thinks I can’t commit to anything without threatening death. Besides, he’s busy, I’m busy—”

“—You like him, he likes you, you’re both dense.” Yuna interjects in the same enumerating tone you used, settling on a nearby bench as you move to your locker to change and prepare your gear. “The same speech every week, and they’re not even good excuses. Seriously, just date already!”

You open your mouth to respond while taking your outer clothes off, revealing your derby uniform inside, but Lia, as expected, suddenly pops out of nowhere, asking, “Who’s dating?”

“No one—”

“Will date, you mean.” Yuna corrects, turning your frown into a scowl now as you pop your head out of your shirt, carefully discarding the material inside your locker with your gym bag in exchange for your helmet and arm gear. “You already know who.”

At this, you see Lia smile knowingly and lean back on the bench as you hurriedly put on your gear and helmet. “Right, the lovebirds.” She nods at Yuna before turning to you. “Did anything happen this week?”

You quickly shake your head, adjusting your helmet as you do so. “No, Yuna’s just teasing me—again.” You then sit in between the two girls, re-tying your roller skate’s laces. “Don’t listen to her, she’s delusional.”

“Um, delusional for a reason!” The girl in question protests much to Lia’s amusement, bumping her shoulders with yours in the process. “Who even drives people to places even when they don’t want to? And he always insists on looking at your injuries after every game too? I think someone’s whipped and his name begins with a Seung and ends with a Min.”

“He’s just nice and—” You try to insist again but to no avail when you see her raising her eyebrows and smiling suggestively, your hands going up to your face sheepishly as your stubborn front easily breaks down at it. “Ugh, stop with those looks!”

On your sides, you hear Lia and Yuna laugh, patting your back and shoulders comfortingly.

“Hey, you know Yuna’s just messing with you.” Lia reminds you softly after a moment, prying your hands off of your face and helping you up. “You won’t let that get in your head now of all weeks, would you? It’s the re-match game against our seniors tonight!”

“It’s just you always put me up to it. Seriously, stop it!” You groan instead in protest, belatedly swatting the two away as you join your team back outside and to the rink. “I swear, if I end up getting thrown by Jeongyeon across the rink again tonight, I’m blaming it on you because you keep teasing me.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” Yuna rolls her eyes playfully just as you reach the rink, meeting the crowd’s cheers that momentarily prompts you to wave and smile at them. “maybe until later after the game.”

“Don’t even try pointing at Seungmin to me again mid-game.” You elbow her harshly, ending the conversation as the announcer, Jaemin, calls your team name and starts listing your numbers one by one in introduction.

“...number 5 Lee Chaeryeong, number 9 Shin Yuna, and number 17 Y/N Y/L/N!”

“I don’t have to,” Yuna retorts playfully as she prepares to slide in the rink before you, referring to your last comment. “You always find him yourself, anyway.”

And, as if her words easily got to you, you unconsciously find Seungmin waving at you from the crowd, seated with Jeno, Kai, and Jeongin who are holding yet another cheesy poster for your team. You wave back at him out of courtesy, glancing at Yuna after to roll your eyes in her direction.

“See?” She mouths at you before moving to the very front of the group with Lia and Yeji, starting the game. “Whipped!”

Meanwhile, you skate over to the back with the opposing team’s jammer, Jeongyeon, accepting her high-five before getting in position.

“Y/N, long time no see! Are you with your boyfriend again?” She teases just as Jaemin, blows the first whistle for the pack to start skating. “Seungmin, right? The kid from Legal Management?”

You glance at her briefly, skating on the second whistle first before exclaiming, “Jeongyeon, not you too!”

“I’m just asking!” She holds her hands up in defense, quickening her pace almost at the same time as you do. “Just so I know if you get distracted again!”

“I won’t this time, promise.” You assure, using the conversation to fuel your momentum and easily overtaking her. “I’ll be focused tonight!”

“We’ll see about that!” You hear her yell behind you as she catches up, dodging your teammates while you dodge hers to score a point.

Swiftly, you duck and jump around the pack, making sure to avoid Seungmin’s eyes when you pass his bleachers to prove to Yuna, Lia, and even Jeongyeon otherwise as you come in contact with them.

Eventually, with a little difficulty and a lot of harsh shoulder and hip bumps from Chaeyoung and Dahyun, you then score the first point with a huge gap between you and Jeongyeon.

“See, I’m focused!” You brag to your senior who runs behind you before turning your gaze ahead again.

“And the first 5 points of the night goes to number 17, Y/N!” Meanwhile, Jaemin announces into his mic from the center of the rink, catching a high-five from you as you pass. “Must be all that formal training, huh?”

“What are you talking about? This is how I usually walk!” You reply playfully, eliciting more cheers from the crowd as you naturally change into your athletic persona.

“And the figure skater brags again.” Jaemin muses out loud, receiving the banter well as the host. “Careful there, Y/N, Jeongyeon, number 1, is catching up quickly!”

But despite the warning, you take the time away from the pack to momentarily slow down, waving and receiving more high-fives from the crowd before finally looking over at Seungmin who is now on his feet and clapping wildly while cheering for your team, a stark contrast of his usual worried disposition at the start of the night. When you reach his bleacher as you quicken your pace to try and score another point, you lean over the barrier and send him a confident wink which he receives with a playful scoff.

“What are you doing? Focus on your game!” He scolds, the other boys snickering next to him.

“I’m just checking in with my biggest fan before he goes back to worried mode.” You grin at him, pinching his cheek affectionately. “How was my first five points?”

“Great, great.” He answers quickly, gently pushing you by your shoulder as if gesturing you to go back to your game. “Now, go, you have a pack to catch up to and a game to win.”

Cute, you think to yourself, a grin forming on your features as you bid him goodbye again to go back to chasing the pack around the rink. “Okay, Minnie, whatever you say!”

“You two are so adorable!” Sana points out as you reach her on the side of the pack after, not even bothering to block you or hit you by the hips now with how much she’s gushing over you and Seungmin. “So cute!”

“I know, right? Unnie, can you believe they’re still not dating?” Yuna agrees, letting her guard down momentarily from blocking Sana until she sees Jeongyeon catching up to you from over your shoulder.

“Yuna, stop it!”

“No! It’s fu—oh, look out!”

Behind you, Jeongyeon easily knocks Lia and Chaeryeong off their skates, her hand reaching your shoulder to propel herself forward in the tightly-knit pack.

“Come on, guys, less talking more hitting!” Your opponent jammer sticks her tongue out, purposely waiting for you to catch up before picking up the pace again. “Y/N, you said you’re not getting distracted!”

“Sana and Yuna were ganging up on me!” You retort in protest, bumping her by her shoulders and hips and overtaking her again. “More hitting it is then!”

“Oh, it seems like this second game between Team Neon and Team Magenta is going to be bloody!” Jaemin, quickly picking up on the commotion, comments. “Who will be our winner tonight? It looks like it’s going to be a very close call!”

“Ah, not on my watch.” You mumble under your breath, expertly knocking out Jeongyeon on the way to another five points.

The game ends almost two hours later, the score being 115-110 with your team emerging victorious and at least four overall cuts and bruises around your body. As soon as all the photographs have been taken for Instagram and the weekly plastic trophy has been passed around your team at least twice, Seungmin immediately takes you away from the crowd and your team right after taking your things from the locker room, his adrenaline for watching sports directing its attention to tending to you again and his cheerful expression switching back to worry.

“Minnieee,” You call for him for the second time as you near the bathroom at the end of the hall, tiredly stumbling over nothing when Seungmin doesn’t slow down a bit with his brisk walking. “Minnie, slow down a bit, my legs are tired!”

But he only slows down when you reach the bathroom, gently hoisting you up to sit on the cold marble of the sinks before taking out his first-aid kit and the ice packs he got from Jaemin from the outer pockets of his backpack. His serious and worried expression doesn’t falter once, looking even worse than the one he always wears on your car rides to the game. “Don’t move too much until I—until we’ve checked everything.” He instructs you, lifting your gym bag and his backpack that he’s been carrying with him to the side.

“You’re so serious again.” You feign another frown at him once you’re settled on top of the sink, gaze softening as he quietly and hurriedly shuffles around to wrap the ice packs in towels as if ignoring your comment. “Don’t I get another ‘congrats’ or a ‘good job’? I scored 85 of those 115 points. I’m fine.”

“I already congratulated you with the others out there,” He reminds with a frustrated sigh, carefully inspecting your arms and legs for more bruises he didn’t initially notice. “and you already know you did really well against Jeongyeon this time around but that fall before the 85th point...”

At the mention of your one violent fall tonight, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. “This one?” You ask for confirmation, lifting your shift up and pulling your waistband down slightly against your heated cheeks and Seungmin’s suddenly wide eyes. Clearing your throat, you hide it again from him as quickly as you showed it and assure, “It’s fine, seriously, I—“

But, just as stubborn as you are, Seungmin’s hands move shakily to the hem of your shirt, hesitantly lifting it up after looking up at you in permission to see the harsh mark. “I-It’s turning blue. You didn’t even ice it up properly when you switched positions with Chaeyeon.” He argues back as firmly as he can and thus cutting you off from showing him your other bruises, his other hand holding up the ice pack in between the two of you. “This one really needs the ice pack more than the rest.”

Your eyes widen back at him because of the gesture, freezing for a moment in place until you quickly regain composure and manage to stutter out, “O-okay, fine...” And with that, you take his hand off your shirt, holding it up yourself while your other hand takes the ice pack from him. “Th—shit—t-thanks.”

Seungmin only nods and hums in acknowledgement awkwardly, picking up two other ice packs wrapped in a towels and leaving one to rest on your right thigh while he hovers the other over your your collarbones. “The other two don’t look too bad, though.” He comments, changing the topic and muttering a quick apology when you hiss at the simultaneous cold contact on your skin. “You’re not hurt anywhere else, right?”

“I think I have a cut on my feet, I’m not sure, it stings a bit when I put too much pressure.” You shrug your free shoulder carefully, meeting Seungmin’s eyes when you turn to him again and find him hovering dangerously close to your face. With the way he looks at you expectantly for answers, you immediately figure out that it’s not time to tease or play games with him anymore. “I-I’ll just—walk back out with slippers, it’s probably just the blisters from last week.”

“We’ll have to check that too. You also have a cut on your lip, you know.” He points out after when he leans closer, his free hand picking up a small box of face tissues from the first-aid kit. “When did this even happen?”

Instinctively, you reach out to touch your bare lips first before taking the tissues from him, only then noticing the dry skin bumps that have now formed around what you assume would be a dried cut. “Huh, I didn’t even notice.” You muse out loud, closing your mouth and taking the tissues from Seungmin immediately when you feel the wound open slightly again. “It must be from when Chaeyoung hit me—shit.”

“Nothing you can’t handle, huh?” Seungmin mumbles under his breath, looking down on your thigh to check the bruise under the ice pack he left freely on top of it. “You’re so clumsy.”

You frown at him and the reference to earlier this evening, making him crack a small amused smile when he meets your gaze again. “Fine, maybe I am a bit—clumsy.” You admit hesitantly with a sigh and a roll of your eyes when he raises an eyebrow at you again. “But at least I got you to patch me up every time, right?”

“And that’s why I chaperone you.” He reiterates firmly, briefly taking off the ice pack he’s holding against your collarbones to inspect the bruise after and furrowing his eyebrows.

“Tch, it’s not like this happens every week. It just happened that tonight was extra violent, you know.” You reply slowly before licking your lips and disposing the tissue into a nearby chute.

“Yeah but point you still got hurt like you always do every single week.” He retorts before picking up the ointment and cotton balls next to you, taking a step back and crouching down to the level of your skates. Untying your shoelaces then taking your skates and socks off, you lean forward to see Seungmin wince at the amount of red blotches and commenting, “Look, you even managed to open your blisters tonight.”

“Is it that ba—sh-shit! Ya, Minnie, you’re pressing too hard on i—ya, it hurts!” You wince when Seungmin presses a cotton ball coated in ointment on one of your blisters, making you instinctively grip on the edge of the sink and lean back.

“Ya, you really didn’t notice this? At all?” He scolds, cleaning your wounds again but this time simultaneously evading your unconscious attempts at kicking his face.

“Well, I was too happy knowing that we’re advancing to fina—ow, ow, ow, it stings!”

“Ah, seriously. Ya, stop moving too much, I still need to bandage these.” He hisses, slapping your leg gently before going back to cleaning your wounds. “I’ll make it up to you later, promise.”

“Piggyback and ice cream?” You pout. “You’re being really harsh on my blisters.”

“Wheelchair if you don’t behave and kick me in the face.” He threatens, holding your feet in place by your ankles before going back to cleaning the rest of your wounds. “Now, just hold it in a bit.”

two - sunday

Seungmin also dotes on you by randomly checking in during your training hours. Though he’s always done this even before you started training competitively, ever since you’ve picked up your side hobby of roller derby this summer he’s started picking up a more consistent schedule of coming over on Sunday mornings (when he knows you’d still push yourself to attend training) to make sure that you’re not overworking and further damaging your already bruised and wounded body. It’s a bit too much for his character, you’d know very well as his best friend with years of observing how he treats his other student athlete friends, but he always brings you coffee and a cheat meal bento for when Coach Park isn’t looking so you can’t really complain.

“Minnie!” You greet him with a wave as he finally arrives, 8 PM on the dot just as you finish your best attempt at warming up your already sore body. Skating over to his side of the audience area, you then lean over the barriers with your arms folded on top of it with an anticipating smile, watching him get comfortable in his unofficial seat in the middle of the front row. “What do you have for me today?”

“It’s Korean special for today.” He answers with a smile, taking out a pair of familiar white bento boxes typically sold at the cafeteria of the nearby College of Architecture and shaking it in front of you before placing it on the seat next to him. Looking around the empty rink, he then asks, “Coach Park isn’t with you today?”

“Faculty meeting, won’t be back until lunch,” You shrug before another thought crosses your mind. “Hey, do you want to skate?”

Seungmin hesitantly shakes his head in front of your wide eyes, sinking in his seat. “No, I’m good, thanks.” He shrugs as casually as he can, though you’re quicker to take note of his gaze lingering on the smooth ice.

So, stubborn as you are, you insist anyway, “I see that look!”

“You’re supposed to be training—actually, you shouldn’t even be with all the hits you took last night.” He points out. “Anyway, don’t you need the whole rink?”

“I’ll be here the whole day. I can just practice seriously when Coach Park is actually here.” You grin widely, smoothly gliding to the gates now to fetch him. When he doesn’t move in his seat, you continue further up the stairs until your blades hit the rubber mats of the audience area. “And like you said, I shouldn’t be training with all the hits I took last night.”

“We can just skate around leisurely!” You conclude, Seungmin’s eyes narrowing up at you when you reach him and his body automatically cringing at the sound of your blades hitting rubber.

“Yeah, but—”

In response, you take hold of his free hand with your own while the other puts his backpack to the side, tugging him to the direction of the locker rooms. “I’m injured so I need help getting around.” You answer after halfheartedly.

“You were already skating before I could even get here.” He tries reasoning out but before he can even continue, you’ve already managed to pull him up to a stand, almost tripping the two of you even until he quickly balanced himself right in front of you.

“Kids will start training here by next week so this is literally the last time we’ll have the ice on our own for a while.” You counter back, already pulling him to the locker rooms with the loud thud of your blades. Glancing over at him from behind your shoulder, you chuckle as you catch Seungmin’s expression change into that of resignation as he finally lets you pull him along. “Ha, knew it.”

“I’m just looking out for you,” He states, more to convince himself than you. At that, you reach the locker room, proceeding straight to the unclaimed locker next to yours by the door for Seungmin’s skates—an old pair you stole from his house some two Christmases ago when he started visiting you like this.

“Right, right.” You giggle at him, passing him his skates and taking out another article of clothing from the lockers, this time a familiar hoodie from your locker that immediately catches Seungmin’s eye. “Just put these on.”

“Didn’t you say you lost this hoodie?”

“It actually got lost in my laundry for two months bu—ya, don’t look at me like that! At least I’m giving it back now! I don’t want you getting in there cold!”

Seungmin is exceptionally knowledgeable on many things like Legal Management (his course), baseball, music (especially singing with the amount of times he hangs out with Jeongin, his other best friend), and skating—but the last is quite debatable since his knowledge is limited to growing up watching you upgrade from the lake behind your houses when you were five to the rinks you train at today. He still doesn’t get how scoring works (”But you looked so great out there!” “Not to the judges, I guess.” “Huh?!”) and he still can’t differentiate the common jumps in competitive figure skating that well but you trust him as one who has a good eye for artistry and technique. He is a fellow athlete, after all.

“Can you extend your arms a little more?” He asks after you’ve shown him a particular step in a work-in-progress choreography for next year’s Championships. After a mini argument with him over whether you’ll practice your stunts while he’s still with you or just skate around until you feel tired, he somehow convinced you to show your choreography first before skating with you by offering to treat you to another bento box and a cup of iced coffee later.

Damn his negotiating skills.

Skating back to him from the other side of the rink, you sigh. “I mean I can if I’m not injured at the moment.” You answer, gesturing to the bruise on your collarbone hidden behind your own long sleeves. “Maybe on the day itself, you know, 7 months from now.”

“Then you should make sure to extend your arms out in that move when your bruise heals so you look pretty,” He concludes, taking your phone out of his pocket and pressing pause on your chosen music that now fades to a segment without choreography yet. “and don’t play any derby on that month.”

The last comment makes you smile as you now leisurely skate in circles around him. “So you’re allowing me to play derby until next year?” You ask with your most hopeful look, halting to a stop next to him and linking your arms with his after.

“I’m just saying in case you still want to play derby until next year.” He shrugs, following you around the rink when you tug him forward. “The choice is still up to you.”

You then take this as a sign that you can now skate freely around after a whole hour of “practice,” mindlessly leading the two of you around the ice. Seungmin would still trip a little bit no matter how many times you’ve tried teaching him how to glide smoothly on the ice but you pretend to not take notice of this, gently helping him balance himself wordlessly instead.

“Wait, do you still want to?” He asks after a moment. “Play after the summer, I mean?”

You shrug back, alternating your attention between thinking of a more elaborate answer and looking down on Seungmin’s skates to make sure he’s not threatening another fall. “Derby’s fun and all, especially right now on my off-season but I don’t know. It does take a toll sometimes.” You end up saying in the end, guiding Seungmin around the curve of the rink in increasingly larger glides. “Coach Park’s kind of getting mad at me already too when she sees some of my blisters since it’s not helping me break in my new skates.”

“So...yes, no, maybe?”

“Maybe.” You answer, looking up at him and admiring the way he concentrates on balancing himself. “Besides, I still have to ask you about it too.”

At that, you catch Seungmin’s gaze and raised eyebrow. “Me?” He repeats, almost falling over in front of him and prompting you to slow down.

“Yeah,” You naturally follow up, skating ahead of him and moving your hands back into his as you try skating backwards this time. “as my no. 1 fan—and by that I mean my best friend who always scolds me before and after the games but cheers on me wildly during—what do you think?”

You observe Seungmin without too much anticipation in your expression in case he correctly guesses that you’re expecting a certain answer from him.

“I’ve already told you before...” He eventually trails off after a moment before glancing at you again and sighing. “...it’s just, you look like you’re having fun but—”

“But it’s dangerous.“

“But you should play less.” He corrects seriously, skating the arms distance between the two of you and placing his hands on your upper arms, holding you in place. With this gesture, you look up at him with a confused expression, trying to decipher all the thoughts that seem to run over a mile a second in the way he glances back at you. “I’m always behind you and whatever you do, even if it’s dangerous and stupid, that’s what best friends do—but even that has limits sometimes.”

You pause. For some reason, you don’t think of an immediate and witty comeback to lighten what has unconsciously become a sincere atmosphere, your thoughts lingering instead to the conversation you had with Yuna just last night.

“Who even drives people to places even when they don’t want to?” You hear your friend loud and clear in your mind, almost nagging even.

Definitely not Seungmin, you think to yourself, especially if it’s another person like Hyunjin or Jeongin...

“Y/N?” Seungmin suddenly calls for you, his voice just barely above a whisper as he hesitantly lets go of your arms and snaps you out of your daze.

Blinking twice up at him, you catch him just in time before he can even skate back away from you, holding him by his fingertips. “So...” You trail off, furrowing your eyebrows in thought. “so yes, no, maybe—?”

“Maybe.” He finishes the thought for you, rubbing the nape of his neck awkwardly before huffing slightly in the cold, a puff of white air escaping his pink lips. “That’s a maybe too, I guess.”

You nod slowly in acknowledgement, tugging him forwards. “So, in conclusion,” You reply slowly, changing your direction again as you now move yourself and Seungmin to the very center of the rink before breaking out into a chuckle to diffuse the unnecessarily tense atmosphere. “let’s get back to it after the summer?”

“That and don’t play derby when the time comes that you’re actually in Championships.” Seungmin points out, catching up with you now so you’re skating next to each other again. “Multi-tasking isn’t really your strongest suit.”

“Ya!” You protest, elbowing him gently and making him laugh.

“I was just kidding!” When you try skating away from him, Seungmin latches onto your elbow and desperately pulls you back to his side, barely missing another threat of a fall. “Don’t let go, I’ll trip!”

“Says the one who called me clumsy that I can’t multitask.” You roll your eyes with an amused chuckle

“We just had a really heartfelt talk and that’s all you picked up?” Seungmin feigns a frown at you, tightening his arms linked to yours. “You’re unbelievable sometimes.”

“It’s not like we don’t always talk about it.” You scoff, pulling Seungmin close by linking your arms again. “Though, I am a bit surprised with today’s answer. You just always know how to re-word the same thing a bunch of times, huh?”

“You brought it up and I answered sincerely.” He gestures to you with a tilt of his head, looking down on his skates after. “I didn’t even know my opinion was that important to you. I mean, you have been ignoring it for 2 months straight.”

“Like I said, no. 1 fan.” You grin before nudging him by his shoulder. “And I don’t ignore your opinion, I’ve been retiring from the game itself earlier like you asked me to before!”

“As if that makes a difference.” He rolls his eyes, pursing his lips before he could comment further. “You still play 3/4 of the game, anyway.”

“We’re going to argue about this for the whole morning if ever, Kim Seungmin.” You chuckle, holding his hand again and leading him to another spin around the rink. “Let’s just skate freely for now, hm?”

Coach Park arrives an hour earlier than she intended later on while you and Seungmin ate your bento boxes, prompting your best friend to not return to the ice after and to simply watch you from the stands instead. When your training ends almost five hours later, you’re quick to change back into your shoes in the locker rooms to return back to Seungmin’s side, making even your coach laugh in amusement.

“I’ll see you next week Thursday, correct?” Coach Park asks you as she readies to shut the power off the venue, still chuckling every time she glances at you standing next to Seungmin by the entrance. “Those wounds should improve by then so we can start landing at least half of your jumps.”

You nod, adjusting your gym bag on your one shoulder. “I’ll rest until then, promise!”

Coach Park then turns to Seungmin with a feigned strict look, pointing at you as she then instructs, “Look after them, Kim, alright? I trust you’ll keep Y/N in check until then.”

“I will, coach.” Seungmin assures with a nod and a smile himself, slinging an arm over your waist to help you balance yourself before turning you towards the direction of the entrance doors and concluding, “We’ll be off now!”

“Alright, see you!” You hear coach Park bid you goodbye before you pass through the double doors of the entrance, getting pulled to the direction of the parking lot by Seungmin after.

“I thought you’re buying me an extra bento box? And iced coffee?” You ask when you don’t make the turn leading to the College of Architecture, following Seungmin straight ahead to his car parked right across the building entrance anyway. “Ya, Minnie—”

“I texted Changbin to buy, it should be at your dorm’s kitchen by now.” Seungmin answers casually, taking out his keys from his hoodie pocket and pointing it to his car. Once you near the vehicle, he then opens the door for you on the front passenger seat, wordlessly taking your gym bag and placing it in the back along with his backpack. “If not, then I’ll just drive back here, I don’t have anywhere to be today.”

You smile at the thought, happily putting on your seatbelt. “I love you, have I said that this week?” You chuckle, wrapping an arm behind his waist in a side hug before he can close the door. “You’re the best, capt.!”

“It’s weird when you call me capt.” He feigns a scowl, patting your head and briefly hugging you back anyway. “And you only love me because I practically babysit you.”

"I never even asked to be babysit in the first place.” You pout, following him with your eyes even when he closes the door and moves to the other side of the vehicle to the driver’s seat. Turning your body to his direction as he turns on the ignition and starts driving away, you then add, “You’re supposed to say you love me too, capt.”

Seungmin rolls his eyes in an attempt to move your eyes away from the wild blush on his cheeks. “Put your seatbelt on.” He steers the conversation instead, placing a hand behind your headrest as he backs the car away from the parking.

“‘I love you too’?”

“What do you want to do when we get to your dorm?”

“Okay, I’ll take that. How about you choose the movie for today?”

three - wednesday

Though he never demands you for it from knowing full-well your own busy training schedule and classes, you’ve always made sure to attend each and every baseball game Seungmin participates in ever since you were children to cheer him on and he’s always thought that that’s your own version of showing your affection to him in return for his support for you. Though you can get a bit embarrassing cheering on him the loudest and always wearing his extra old jerseys to the games, he never complains about it anyway and only argues with you after the game about other things, mostly you skipping your own training to see him or attending his games instead of resting at home like today. It definitely is love—simultaneously a heartwarming and worrying one at that.

So today, at his baseball team’s scrimmage, he’s not even that surprised anymore when you show up with Jeongin by your side, insisting that your cuts and bruises are already manageable enough to let you walk without needing much help. He is, however, still worried over your well-being as usual.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks you for the fourth time since you met up right outside the field, an arm draped over your shoulder as you walk. Ahead of you, Jeongin and Yuna have already reserved seats along with the rest of your friend group, chatting away with some members of the team. “And you’re not skipping any training today?”

“I already told you, Minnie,” You giggle, limping a little from your blisters and leaning most of your weight to him with your hand on his waist. “My next training’s next week, you were even there when Coach Park reminded me! And it’s not like I’m playing, I’m just going to watch you today!”

“I’m mainly worried about your blisters since you were training last Sunday. You could’ve just rested at the dorms today.” He points out, sitting you down next to Jeongin on the aisle before kneeling right in front of you. “It’s just a scrimmage, anyway.”

“But I don’t want to miss a game,” You insist stubbornly, smiling reassuringly at him and his furrowed eyebrows. “and even if it’s just a scrimmage, it’s still you playing. I want to see you play.”

With this, Seungmin eventually sighs in defeat. “Whatever, not like I can walk you home now and get back to the game in time.”

“I’m already here and you can’t do anything about it.” You affirm with a chuckle, patting his arm. “Now, go, shoo, you have a scrimmage to win.”

Seungmin then turns to Jeongin, gesturing to you as he stands up, “Look after Y/N, please?”

“If you mean look after them as in not letting them topple over the seats then sure.” Jeongin nods with a laugh.

“Hey, I don’t—!”

But, as if ignoring your protests, Seungmin nods gratefully and bids you two goodbye. “Thanks!” He then turns to his teammates before you could even finish another sentence, ushering everyone to jog back to the field. “Okay, guys, chat time’s over. Let’s head to the field!”

“Ay, Seung, don’t get too flustered over Y/N now!” Jisung reminds him with a hand over the younger boy’s shoulders and a snicker, tapping on the mound with his glove as the two reach their designated positions. “Jeno’s pitching, too, you might get hit in the face if you’ll just keep looking at your Y/N.”

“Shut up, Ji.” Seungmin rolls his eyes, tapping on the mound as well with his bat just as Jeno signals from across the diamond, preparing to pitch. With one last glance at you, he then mutters to himself, “Aish, why did they even come today? They’re injured.”

Jisung opens his mouth to speak behind his helmet to ask what Seungmin could mean with his last comment but he’s inadvertently cut off by Jeno signaling for everyone to get ready, expertly throwing the first ball which Seungmin instinctively hits hard with his bat, prompting him to start running to first base before Daehwi and Eunwoo could even retrieve it by the chain link fences of the field, thus leaving Jisung to his thoughts.

“Yay, let’s go Kim Seungmin!” You cheer and yell from the bleachers, almost standing up with a struggle until Jeongin pulls you down by your arms, most likely to remind you of your injuries, which Seungmin is more than grateful for. “Go Minnie! Number 22! Number 22!”

As he runs, Seungmin makes sure to wave at you in responds when he passes by your bleachers, sending a bashful smile your way that only fuels more teasing from Jeongin without him noticing. You wave both hands back in response before he could turn his eyes back ahead, sinking in your seat as he now tries to aim for second base seeing everyone moving a bit slower than usual.

Eventually, he makes it to second base just in time, sliding into the plate and narrowly missing Daehwi’s attempt at getting him out.

“Yay, let’s go Seungmin!” He hears you yell and clap loudly again, making his ears heat up and everyone in the diamond to stifle their giggles.

“Hey, isn’t Y/N injured from last Saturday?” Daehwi asks at belatedly noticing your presence.

Seungmin then stands up and dusts the dirt off his uniform, adjusting his cap and turning his focus to Jeno and Hyunjin (who bats next) ahead. “I insisted that they skip today’s game since it’s just a scrimmage but you know how they are.”

“Really? That’s so sweet!” Daehwi squeals in delight, waving at you and the others from others bleachers. “and here everyone thought that Y/N skipping training was already cute enough! They just outdo themselves every time!”

“Way to romanticize injuries, Dae.” Seungmin scoffs, hiding a smile from Daehwi. Simultaneously, Jeno signals again that the game is about to start, preparing to pitch. “Seriously, it’s not cute. I’m more worried than flattered.”

“Right, because waving at them while running was definitely being worried,” Daehwi chuckles, getting in position again. “Just say you’re whipped and go.”

“You wish,” Seungmin scrunches up his nose, successfully dodging Daehwi again and leaving him on the second base. “but I do have to get going now!”

“Ya!”

“Woo! Go Seungmin!” You yell loudly and repeatedly again, until he successfully reaches home base which prompts you to finally stand up and jump around in cheer despite the pain your lower half. “Way to go Seungmin!”

Seungmin can only roll his eyes at you as he walks off the field, scoffing in disbelief when you don’t stop cheering even as he approaches you from the other side of the chain link fences since he’s already done for this particular inning.

“Why are you up? You’re injured.” He frowns, his hands going up the chain links. “Sit down, Y/N.”

“I’m fine!” You dismiss, sitting down anyway when Jeongin and Yuna start tugging on your shirt for you to sit down. “But, more importantly, you did well!”

“It’s just the first inning—and a scrimmage.”

“Scrimmage, formal game, it’s all the same, you don’t have to say it twice.” You retort, rolling your eyes and chuckling. “You looked really cool out there!”

The last comment definitely catches Seungmin off-guard but he hides it better this time, waving his hand in front of him. “It was nothing.”

“So modest,” You scoff with a proud smile, leaning forward and linking your hands between the chain links. “What do you want after the game? Ice cream? Tteokbeokki?”

“Don’t stand up too much during the game and I’ll think about it,” He answers instead. “and we’re not going anywhere after this with your injuries. I’m taking you straight home.”

“Fine.” You huff in defeat, gesturing to his teammates after. “Okay, now go back, Jeno’s looking at us weird.”

“Don’t stand up again!”

“I won’t!”

Seungmin meets up with you again after the game. When the scrimmage ends later that afternoon with Jeno’s team winning at 14-18 and everyone heading straight to the showers, he sees you with Jeongin right outside of the locker rooms, sitting on a nearby bench while the younger boy pesters you with questions on your summer training and last Saturday’s game.

“Hey, Y/N!” Jisung, accompanying Seungmin on the way out, greets you with an innocent slap to your back before your best friend could, making you wince in pain. “Oh, shit, sorry!”

“Ya,” Seungmin reprimands him firmly, slapping Jisung’s hand away from you before helping you up from the bench. “Careful, Y/N’s injured.”

“Why?” Jisung asks curiously, making everyone turn to him.

“Derby last Saturday.” You answer sheepishly, leaning your weight to Seungmin again appreciatively as he helps you balance yourself. “Got knocked out before scoring a point.”

“You would’ve seen if you didn’t have a date that day.” Hyunjin adds, playfully catching Jisung in a chokehold as your group now walks out of the lockers rooms and outside the field. “It was so bloody as fuck, they were against the league veterans!”

“You make it sound like I died and got resurrected.” You scoff, reaching out for Hyunjin with a struggle and slapping his arm.

“Don’t entertain him too much, he’s just dramatic.” Seungmin assures you, eliciting protests from Hyunjin.

“Really?” Meanwhile, Jisung frowns in jealously, prying Hyunjin off of him and kicking him from behind his knees as a comeback. “Ay, I really would’ve gone if only Haneul liked watching derby.”

“They don’t seem to like watching sports in general,” Jeongin points out bluntly, you nodding along to his right. “why are you still going out with this person, even? Clearly, they’re not interested in your major passion.”

“Because I like them,” the boy in question shrugs without hesitation, making you tilt your head in confusion. “I mean, Haneul’s cool but we—I guess we never really talked about the whole sports thing.”

“Why not? Bro, you’re aiming for the national team.” Hyunjin prods this time. By now, your group has reached and stopped on the sidewalk of the main campus road where you’re supposed to part ways since Jeno’s hosting a get-together but Seungmin’s insisted on taking you home. “In a few years, it’s gonna be weird being in games and having one less person to cheer you on, especially if that person’s your girlfriend.”

“Well, not everyone’s lucky enough to being in love with people who have similar hobbies as they do.” Jisung rolls his eyes dryly, his gaze instinctively landing to you and Seungmin after which only prompts you to raise an eyebrow while Seungmin glares at Jisung.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, making Jisung chuckle.

“Nothing, nothing.” He waves his hand dismissively at you before turning to Hyunjin and Jeongin. “Anyway, Haneul and I will talk about it again more later on. Personally, I’m not that bothered right now—I’m just happy we get to hang out.”

“But that’s because you started dating before any major games.” Seungmin speaks up after a while.

Jeongin nods in agreement. “We’ll really just have to see next Friday if you still think that way.”

“Seung, Y/N always attends our games so I don’t think you’re qualified to speak over my love life.” Jisung deadpans, prompting Seungmin to hit him again. “Ow! But it’s true!”

“What?” You scoff, finally getting what he means but pretending to not know anyway in embarrassment.

“Whatever.” Seungmin huffs dismissively at Jisung, directing you away from the group now. “Anyway, we’ll get going now. It’s getting late.”

“We’re seriously going home?” You frown up at Seungmin who’s now standing behind you, both his hands on your shoulders as he moves you to the opposite direction of where the rest of the boys are going. “I was hoping you’d change your mind last minute.”

“I didn’t bring my car here today and Jeno’s dorm’s on the other side of campus.” Seungmin answers your question, waving goodbye to the others. “Come on, let’s go home. We can order again or something.”

“Fine.” You sigh in defeat, letting him walk you backwards as you reluctantly wave goodbye at everyone. “Bye, guys. I guess I’ll see you next Friday.”

“Bye!” Hyunjin, Jisung, and Jeongin wave back at you as they laugh over your frown, the eldest boy making sure to add, “Have fun on your date!”

“It’s not a date!” You yell back at him in exasperation, making the three laugh.

“We’ll make sure to eat well for you!” Jisung teases, winking at you before Seungmin could pull you to the left turn leading back to your dorms. Before you completely part ways, you hear him yell, “Alright, now let’s eat samgyeopsal!”

Heading back to your dorm now, Seungmin stands next to you again, draping his arm over your shoulder again and matching your pace. You walk in comfortable silence for a while, that is until you think about Jisung’s words once again, prompting you to ask, “What was that about by the way?”

“What?”

“The thing with Haneul.” You clarify, tearing your gaze away from him to look down on the ground. “Jisung said something about other people being lucky that they like people who have similar hobbies then looked at you.”

“Looked at me? I thought he was looking at you?” Seungmin tries to joke awkwardly before stopping when you don’t laugh along. “It’s nothing, he’s just being weird.”

You furrow your eyebrows, looking up at him only to meet his side profile. Taking a quick inhale, you then try asking, “Seungmin...do you perhaps—do you like anyone lately?”

At that, Seungmin almost trips over nothing uncharacteristically, his grip on your shoulder accidentally tightening when he holds onto you for support. “Sorry, um—w-what?”

“It’s just,” You shrug awkwardly, feeling smaller under his arm now that your impulsive question suddenly made the air awkward. You walk slower now, despite your dorm being only a block away now. “what Jisung said and—and, you know, you’ve been busy lately.”

“Yeah, because of you and classes.” He points out, still with furrowed eyebrows. “I don’t—I don’t have time to date.”

“But do you want to?”

“Hm?”

“I-If you weren’t busy with classes, training...looking after my clumsy ass and all—would you...would you want to date anyone? Do you like...someone?” You clarify as clearly and as eloquently as you can against the pain on your feet from walking and the sudden loud hammering of your heart against your chest. Why did I even ask? You can only scold yourself internally, keeping a front anyway now that you’re in too deep to change the topic now.

Next to you, Seungmin thinks about your question carefully. He’s not actually thinking about the question per se, more like thinking about why you would ask such question. Are you expecting some kind of answer? “I...” He trails off in thought, catching your gaze momentarily from the corner of his eye. “N-No, not really.”

“Oh.” You muse out loud, trying your best to hide your disappointment. “I guess that’s understandable. You’re aiming for the national team, after all.”

Seungmin then stops walking altogether, making you stop. In front of you, you see your dorm building coming into view, confusing you even more when he moves in front of you.

“No, it’s....“ He shrugs, looking down on his hands before flitting his eyes up again to you. “all my time’s for you, classes, and training right now and it’s fine. Sure, the end goal’s the national team but at the same time, I have all I need right now—dating just so happens to not really a top priority right now.”

You nod slowly with a low hum, smiling at his sincerity after a while. “So I’m top priority?”

At your comment, his sincere facade immediately fades into a scoff, rubbing his temples up in frustration. “I answer your question sincerely and all you pick up is you being a priority?” He asks in disbelief, making you laugh. “And here I was, about to offer you piggyback again.”

“I was just kidding!” You bluff in between laughs, extending your arms out for him to carry you. “Piggyback, please! I live on the third floor!”

“Maybe if you didn’t respond weirdly to my emotional rant—“

“Ya, Seungmin!” You protest, hopping on your better foot and jumping on his back before he could even move away from you. “Ha! Got you!”

Reluctantly, Seungmin then adjusts the strap of his gym bag on his shoulder and hooks his arms under your legs. “If you’re not so injured right now, I’d drop you on the ground.” He hoists you up on his back with a groan, continuing to walk forward anyway. “Ah, this brat.”

You chuckle, pinching his cheeks before resting your arms on his shoulders. “But seriously...” You trail off with an awkward cough. “Just date, dude, you can multitask, better than me at least.”

You then hear Seungmin mumble under his breath, “Maybe if...” but you fail to catch the last words as he then shakes his head and adds, “Ah, whatever. How did we even get to this kind of talk?”

five - saturday

As if the universe is conspiring against you, you end up getting severely injured halfway through your next derby game the following Saturday. When the score is 45-70 in favor of the opposing team, you end up taking a nasty fall after successfully scoring a point, causing a broken nose.

So much for all the talks you had with Seungmin in the past days, you think to yourself as you catch his surprised gaze from across the rink.

Maybe it’s also because of how you’ve been talking to him a lot lately about his concerns for you and this sport that he immediately rushes to your side as Yuna and Yeji help you walk from the rink to the locker room as Jaemin suddenly announces a short break. Quickly and gently taking your arm from Yeji’s shoulder from the sides of the rink, the next three minutes are a bit of a blur to you as Seungmin multitasks between examining your bruises, assuring your teammates that he can take care of you, and walking you to the nearest bathroom—all the while scolding you under his breath.

You can only pout at him the whole way, letting him drag you along with him until he’s hoisting you up again on top of the sink counter much like every other Saturday.

Except it feels a bit different this time, especially since Seungmin has never looked this worried since you started this sport 2 months ago.

“Okay, let’s see that bloody nose again.” He asks you after a while, tilting your face downwards with his one hand (the other holding an ice pack from Jaemin) and scrunching up his nose with furrowed eyebrows. “Yikes.”

“I’m sort of choking here a bit.” You point out, shifting uncomfortably in your place at the feeling of blood on your tongue and the realization that you also have small cuts on your lips. “Um...”

You see his eyebrows furrow deeper in thought as he then turns to his side and places his backpack next to you, temporarily placing the ice pack in the space between your leg and his backpack and taking out a first aid kit. “That bad? Fuck.” He hisses under his breath, more to himself than to you, as he proceeds to prepare a whole bag of cotton balls, wipes, and ointment. “I can clean and ice this up but we’ll have to go immediately after this and get you checked out at the clinic across the street.”

“Really?” You wince at seeing Seungmin hold up a wet wipe to your face. “So I can’t finish the game?”

“You’re face is broken and you’re thinking about the game? Y/N, please...” He sighs disapprovingly at you, cupping your chin again and lightly dabbing on the trail of blood on your face with the wet wipe. “Try to hold in the pain for a bit while I clean your face and maybe try not to think about the game.”

"Sorry...” You trail off, pouting up at Seungmin and earning you another sigh from him.

“This is the worst I’ve seen you.” He muses out loud, his furrowed eyebrows slowly softening as he purses his lips. “What even happened back there? It was all too quick for me, to be honest.”

“The other team’s jammer bumped me a bit too harsh.” You reply slowly, careful of the blood on your lips and the sting you feel from inhaling. In front of you, Seungmin unconsciously winces through carefully cleaning your face. “We were skating on the slope going up so I ended up hitting my face on the barriers.”

“They’re visitors, right?” He asks you next and you nod quietly in response. “I’ll have to remind Jaemin to talk to them. If not, I’ll talk to them myself...”

“Seungmin—”

“You fell really bad, they should be accountable.” He insists anyway. “Even if derby’s a violent sport, there are still limits to it and this is just too much.”

You unconsciously mirror Seungmin’s frown the longer he stares down at the bloodied lower half of your face, your shoulders slouching deeply when he finally reaches the end of the drying red trail on your chin with his third wet wipe. The physical pain of a broken nose and a bruised lip can’t even compete with the guilt pooling in your stomach now as you observe your best friend’s disappointed expression, making you wince less and sigh more in front of him at knowing full well that it’s all because of how you played tonight. “Just say it already.”

“Say what?” He mumbles back, now with a raised eyebrow at you as he disposes off the used wet wipes next to you on top of the sink counter. He then passes you the ice pack, guiding your hands to slowly move it up to your nose. “Where’s this coming from all of a sudden?”

You see the genuine anticipation in his eyes of what you meant by your words, making you look down on your free hand rested right on top of the faint bruise marks on your lap. “That I’m being stupid for pursuing this sport, that I should stop playing.” You answer quietly as you shift in your seat. “It’s just that we were talking about this exact thing for the whole week and then it happens and now you look so upset so I thought...”

In front of you, you hear Seungmin sigh before gently tilting your chin up again, meeting your eyes with a soft gaze before moving his hands up to carefully massage your cheeks. “Ya, you’re not stupid,” He shakes his head. “you’re just clumsy sometimes but that’s because you keep forgetting that you’re supposed to be on wheels here and not blades.”

“Ya—”

“And this incident wasn’t your fault.” He adds after a while, when you don’t immediately speak. “I’m not mad at you, just frustrated. I’m mad at the other team, though.”

"Seungmin—” You huff in his touch, cracking a small and brief smile on his face.

“Anyway, I still think you should lessen playing, especially since the semester’s about to start again.” He interjects quickly before you can even say another word, briefly turning to your side to pass you another bundle of face tissues when he hears you sniffling. “but I’ll never ask you to stop playing completely because I know you really enjoy this. The same applies to the other one, of course.”

“Besides, what sport doesn’t involve getting hurt?” He adds as an after thought, taking out two plies of tissue for your incoming cold and the stray tear on your cheek.

“Um, board games?” You muse out loud as you take the tissues in his hands and place them in between your face and your ice pack, fully cracking his serious façade this time as he breaks into a scoff.

“You know what I mean.” You see Seungmin roll his eyes at you, making you purse your lips as a smile tries making its way on your cuts. When he sees your reaction, his thumb instinctively moves over to your bottom lip, stopping you from smiling. “Don’t smile, dummy, we just fixed that lip cut.”

The gesture makes your heart flip and your gaze unconsciously softens at him as you watch him dispose of all your trash with a small ‘alright, done.’ under his breath. “Have I told you I love you this week?” You speak in a low voice with no intention of sounding teasing at all this time, giving him a tight-lipped smile when he looks up at you again in confusion. “You’re the best, capt.”

It takes him a moment to process your words, especially with the unusual tone in your voice. Eventually, you see him return your smile. “You already did. I’m just looking out for you as usual.” He shrugs bashfully, offering you a hand which you gladly accept when you stand. “I love you too...”

“I know.” You nod, tugging on him by your intertwined hands and pressing a light kiss on his cheek when he tilts his head to your side. “I’m sorry again.”

“You’re being soft all of a sudden.” He points out, biting down a small smile. “It’s probably the fall.”

You roll your eyes at him, pressing the ice pack closer to your face. “How many minutes do I have to hold this ice again?”

“If you’re thinking of throwing that on my face, I’ll have you know I can deny you entry on my game next Friday.” He warns, placing his hand on the ice pack again to check your wound. “Fifteen more minutes. I’ll text Jaemin and Yeji for now, the clinic should still be open at this time.”

310 notes · View notes

satendou · 4 years

Text

⟼ the symbol for love

⟼ the language of flowers | next

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: akaashi/reader

⇢ au: florist!akaashi, college!au

⇢ summary: akaashi’s love language is that of flowers

⇥ masterlist

⇢ warnings: mutual pining, flowers, soft smut

⇢ word count: 8.3k

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: okay full disclosure, this fic only exists bc @keijiskitten sent in a picture of akaashi surrounded by flowers at the same time that i was talking about a roommate au. we talked more about it and she suggested confessing via flowers and i went overboard with it. this is another one i’m rather fond of and was written mostly with her in mind. so thank her for the idea!

It started off with heather, hyacinths, and jasmine.

Opening the door to the apartment you had been sharing with one Akaashi Keiji for the last seven months, you were hit with the delicate bouquet of fresh flowers, purple and blue and white, all artfully arranged in a vase on the coffee table.

“Ah, those are so pretty, Akaashi,” you murmured to the man reading a book on the couch. It was a battered copy of 10,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne and he was already halfway through it. The TV played a black and white movie, the volume turned so low you could hear only the soft crackle of sound playing through the speakers. “What are they?”

Occupied with taking off your shoes, you missed the faint pink dust that crept over his cheeks at your praise. By the time you turned back around, it had disappeared. He had closed the book and pulled the vase closer to him, slender fingers pulling three different stems out of the container and laying them across his palm.

“Heather,” he said, handing you the purple flower. “Jasmine.” The white one was handed to you. “And lastly, hyacinths.” The final blue flower was handed over, and you held them to your nose, inhaling deeply. Your eyes fluttered and a soft smile crossed your lips as you looked over them at him.

“And what do these mean?” you asked, a teasing edge to your voice. Akaashi was both a book and flower lover, so you knew that there were meanings behind the bouquet, right down to the number of flowers. “They smell so sweet.”

Akaashi chuckled at that. He always loved your reactions to his arrangements. They were so pure and genuine, like the flowers he handled on a daily basis, and oh so fragile. Over the course of the last few months, he had picked up on your habits and emotions, noting each time you felt anxious you would pick at the skin of your lips and run your fingers through your hair, or how when you were feeling extra tired you would just throw your hair up in a messy bun or a ponytail and go about your business. His favorite by far though was when you were relaxed and at ease-- when your face would soften, your eyes would brighten, and you would look at him with a smile that squeezed his heart.

“They were for a customer today and I just liked the arrangement,” he answered, and the lie tumbled from his lips with such ease that it almost scared him. “But they mean beauty and solitude, love, and playful and sincere.” He pointed out each flower as he spoke its meaning, in the order that he had handed them to you, resisting the urge to graze his fingers across your knuckles.

He caught the flustered glint in your eyes as you stared at them and smiled in response. That was the look he adored and he worked his hardest to bring it out as often as possible, especially lately. Finals were coming up and he had never seen you more stressed and harried, staying out and up late studying or finishing assignments. The bags under your eyes caused him some concern, and he did his best to help you with things, but with a flower shop to run it wasn’t easy.

“Did you have any plans tonight? We could order in, if you want,” he offered, and hoped that the desire was well hidden from his voice. It was the weekend, and usually you spent Friday nights with your friends. That didn’t stop him from asking, though.

“Oh I’m sorry, I have a group project I have to work on,” you answered, and handed back the flowers that were still clasped in your hands. “I only came home to change and then I’m leaving.”

His heart fell, but he managed to keep his face straight. “Oh okay. I’ll see you later?”

“Uh, well I don’t know how late I’ll be, so don’t wait up,” you answered, your face the embodiment of apologetic. You wanted so badly to take him up on it, to get a break from the grueling hours of endless work, but the project needed to be handed in on Monday and no one wanted to be working on it all weekend-- not when there was studying and other assignments to be completed.

He could see the weariness on your face and took your hand in his, feeling his heart stutter when you squeezed back. Giving you a small smile, he said, “You can do this. Just a few more weeks and you’ll have a break. Just hang in there.”

“I know,” you said as you moved away from him, walking down the hall towards your bedroom. “Thank you for supporting me, ‘Kaashi. It means a lot.”

Then you were out of sight, the bedroom door closing with a soft click behind you and Akaashi was left staring at the flowers that spelled out all of the emotions he himself couldn’t express.

Two weeks later, you came into the apartment after a day full of nothing but stressful exams and irritable professors. On top of that, your thesis topic had been denied and you were more than a little anxious about trying to find a new one.

As observant as ever, Akaashi picked up on your mood the moment you texted him and frowned, looking at the bouquet he was currently working on. It was massive, standing taller than him and bursting with colors of all sorts. All of them symbolized love, cherishment, and a hope for the future. It was the final order for a wedding but he couldn’t care less about it all of a sudden.

Sending you a short message back, he returned to it, eyebrows now furrowed in concentration over on a different train of thought. Wracking his brain as best he could, he finished the arrangement up and called one of his employees to take it to the back, where it would be loaded up and taken to the venue.

He helped put up the flowers on display in the coolers and then shooed the others out of the shop, flipping the sign on the door to ‘closed’. Moving into the back of the now empty shop, he pondered the flowers in stock, pinching delicate petals between his fingers as he went over the meanings for each.

Love, good health, solitude, remembrance-- it was easy for him to recall each, and he smiled as he landed on the ones he wanted. With a grace and quickness honed by years of practice, he put a small bouquet together, hoping that this small token would bring you some comfort.

And if that didn’t work, takeout from your favorite place probably would.

The door opened two hours after you had first texted Akaashi telling him your bad news. The response you had received had been lackluster, further souring your mood, and you were currently sprawled out on the couch moping with a mug of his tea.

Raising your brow at the way he held his hand behind his back, you took the bag he offered, instantly recognizing your favorite smells wafting from it. Your stomach grumbled, and you offered him a repentant smile because you knew he now knew you had neglected to eat that day.

Instead of saying anything about it, he just frowned before showing you what was behind his back, setting it on the table beside the bag, and your face lit up.

Pink, purple, and white seemed to pop in comparison to the rest of the room, vibrant and fresh, and you reached out, pulling one of each flower from the vase. The food sat forgotten on the table for the time being as you inhaled the blooms’ scents before offering them to him.

“Well, what are they and what do they mean?” you asked, and he chuckled at the enthusiasm written across your face. Over the last few weeks, it had become something of a ritual for him to bring home a few flowers for you, laying them on the coffee table for you to find when you got home from a late night study session or handing them to you as he left for work in the morning.

It was hard not to appreciate how invested you seemed to be in it, and he tried hard not to read too much into it. That was far easier said than done though, especially when your eyes lit up with wonder and happiness, looking first at the flower and then at him. It was the biggest reason he did it, but it left him feeling empty in some ways, wondering if you would look at him the same way if he didn’t bring them to you.

Still, he wouldn’t stop-- even that little bit of attention meant something to him, so he took the flowers you now offered from your hands and spun the purple one between his slender fingers.

“Violets mean peace, or in this case relaxation,” he said, and immediately caught the understanding dawning on your face. By the time he explained the meaning behind the peonies-- good fortune or luck-- it had morphed into something so unbearably soft that his insides twisted into knots that would never come undone.

“And the jasmines mean-- love,” you said, and your expression morphed into confusion as you took them back from him.

“W-Well, in this case they’re just for optimism and good fortune. I guess a different flower would have been better--”

--but any other wouldn’t have meant the same thing.

He cursed himself for being so obvious and swallowed nervously, waiting for your response. In another situation, he might have said the look that flashed across your pensive face was disappointment, but he was sure he was just deluding himself.

And sure enough, your lips curled up into your usual smile as you thanked him for the flowers, support, and, most importantly, food.

The relief was tempered by disappointment that you accepted his lie so easily before he launched into a lecture about how you should take better care of yourself and threatened to come to the campus and drag you off to lunch himself if he had to. The living room was filled with banter while you ate, suggesting maybe you wouldn’t mind him coming and kidnapping you for lunch if he would take you to your favorite restaurant. Of course he promised he would because that just meant he’d get to spend even more time with you and you didn’t look the least bit unhappy with the development. He tried to ignore the nervous fluttering in his stomach as you planned to meet at the restaurant around one.

That night, you stayed in with him watching old movies that he knew you didn’t like, sharing a blanket thrown across your legs, but he appreciated the way you kept picking them anyway. The flowers were moved to the kitchen counter, illuminated by the overhead light, and more than once he caught you looking at them with a soft, wistful sort of smile.

The first lunch date was followed by several more over the coming weeks, whenever the gap in your schedule coincided with his lunch break. Of course, he could take lunch whenever he wanted, being the owner, but Akaashi was nothing if not a courteous boss and chose not to do that to his employees.

Today you were running late, and your order had just arrived when you flung yourself into your seat, out of breath and grinning maniacally. It was the look you usually wore when something had both gone your way and was going to surprise him and it didn’t fail this time either.

“I got a fucking S, ‘Kaashi!” you said, slamming the paper down on the table between you. His eyes widened and you practically glowed at the stunned expression. It made his blue eyes sparkle, and when he looked up at you there was such pride in them that your heart skipped a beat.

“_____, that’s amazing,” he said, picking up the paper to examine it. It was littered with your handwriting, each answer meticulously thought out and he could even see some of his influence in your answers-- certain things worded certain ways or words he had said repeated in ink. There was something about knowing you listened to his advice that closely that made him anxious, and he couldn’t decide if it was in a good way or a bad way. “I’m so proud of you.”

This test had been weighing heavy on you for a month, and most of your focus was on passing it, since it was your worst subject. It was too important to fail, and you had stayed up late into the night working on your problem areas, with Akaashi coming in clutch with advice and explanations-- and coffee-- when you needed it.

A flood of adoration swept through you as you stared at your pretty roommate. He was the picture of calm, a gentle smile on his face as he gazed back at you, grey-blue eyes narrow with what you guessed was contentment.

Suddenly, this felt a lot less platonic than it had originally, and you tucked your hair behind your ear as you cleared your throat. You couldn’t go down that line of thinking, it would only lead to disappointment. No way was this gorgeous man interested in a stressed out, exhausted, anxious mess of a college student and you wouldn’t let yourself get your hopes up.

“A lot of it was because of you, you know,” you said, schooling your expression into what you hoped was grateful and not at all nervous. He didn’t react other than a widening of his smile and a curious quirk of his eyebrow, so you assumed you had managed it. “I mean it. You explain things so well, it’s easy to understand. And you’re patient, even though you had to explain things to me like a hundred times. I would definitely have failed without you.”

His eyes widened again in surprise, his lips parting as if to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, he looked contemplative, a myriad of emotions swimming through his eyes but you couldn’t pick out any one in particular. At the end though, you thought there might have been something akin to melancholy as he looked down at his yet untouched food, tea long since gone cold.

Before you could ponder that, his expression settled back into the placid calm you were accustomed to and he said, “No, I think you could have done it. You put so much effort into studying, I thought you were going to pass out mid-exam. How many do you have left now?”

The conversation veered off into the rest of your exams and plans for the break in a week’s time-- of which you were unsure, since you had a few offers for vacations and trips-- as you ate.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur of papers, pens, and faces, and you were relieved to finally unlock the door to your apartment. Akaashi had texted you earlier saying he was going to be out late and you had slumped in disappointment, already wondering what you were going to do all alone that night.

But when you opened the door, you perked back up almost immediately.

Sitting on the coffee table was the vase, containing an iris, a yellow rose, and another white jasmine. In it was a note written in perfect, crisp cursive--

‘Blue Iris--faith. Yellow rose-- congratulations. I always knew you could do it, _____.’

For some reason, you couldn’t stop from plucking the jasmine.

Finals flew by in what felt like a whirlwind of late nights, coffee, and ink smudges. Every day brought tests, but every evening brought you a new flower and you were running out of space for them.

Irises, yellow roses, red mums, tiger lilies, and peonies were taking up every ounce of excess space you had and your room smelled like a garden. You couldn’t be happier, either. Akaashi seemed to have a sixth sense for what you needed on any given day and you always looked forward to getting home.

On the final day of your exams there was another round of irises, roses, and jasmines waiting for you, and as you twisted the stem of the white flower between your fingers, you were tempted to ask why this particular flower always found its way into his bouquets. But a bigger part of you didn’t want to know, wanted to let it remain a sweet mystery in case he decided to stop. You knew why you wanted to let it be-- you were afraid that asking would lead to an answer you didn’t want, and the hope you harbored was a pleasant pain.

“So,” Akaashi asked, breaking your pondering, “have you decided what you’re doing for the break?” You were staring far too hard at the fresh white jasmine and jumped when he spoke, making him chuckle.

You hummed in response, tucking the flower back into the vase on the counter and then looked over to him, perched on the stool beside yours. There was a book, another Jules Verne novel, sitting in front of him, a bookmark hanging out of the top. Resting your head on your arms, you said, “Yeah. A few of my friends decided to go to the beach, so I’m gonna go with them. I’ll be gone for a few days.”

“You don’t sound too happy about that,” he said, mimicking you. The air conditioner clicked on overhead and you shrugged. He tried to ignore the dull throbbing of his heart, wishing he could go with you. But not only had you not invited him, he also had no one to watch the store for him. “Do you not want to go?”

“It isn’t that,” you answered, but it was sort of a lie. You did want to go, to relax and have some fun, and you deserved that. But then why did you feel sad that you were leaving? You already knew, as you and Akaashi stared at each other, that it was him. Even for just a few days, you would miss him terribly, and he wasn’t even yours to miss. Sad, really, how pathetic you felt. “I just...I don’t know. There’s gonna be so many people and it’s gonna be loud and I just want to relax.”

“Then tell them you don’t want to go.” It was selfish, but he couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. It managed to draw a grin out of you, even though you still shook your head.

“I’ve already committed. And besides, it’s only for a few days. Then I’ll come back and not do anything for the next week,” you said, and Akaashi chuckled.

“Well,” he said as he sat up, and you automatically followed suit, “we should eat so you can pack, since I’m sure you haven’t even started.”

Groaning, you hid your face in your hands, but you couldn’t help the smile. “Don’t call me out. I’ve been doing everything perfectly for the last month, I deserve to slack off a little.”

Akaashi was already scrolling through DoorDash on his phone and laughed again. “Of course you do, but don’t complain to me about it when you’re up at 5am packing.”

“Oh, I will. Because you’ll already be up anyway. I don’t know how you do it,” you said, staring at the flowers once more. You didn’t even bother to ask Akaashi what he was ordering because he knew you like the back of his hand, and whatever he got would be something you liked.

He hummed in response, placing his order before looking at you. “Wanna watch a movie? Unless you have something else planned?”

But you shook your head and his heart fluttered.

“Nah, a movie sounds great.”

It was only a week, he kept telling himself. And yet he missed you to the point he was almost moping. The apartment still smelled of all the flowers he had filled it with over the last few weeks, but it was fading fast without you to bring new ones home too. He shook his head at his ridiculous train of thought. It wasn’t like you were gone forever, you were still coming home in just a few days.

And he wasn’t sure if it helped that you were constantly blowing up his phone. Pictures and videos of tidepools, fish in the aquarium you had visited, sunsets on the water, and meals with your friends flooded his inbox and he eagerly scanned each one, drinking in your content smile.

But even through a picture, he could see something was missing from it. He knew you too well and looked way too hard not to notice, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. At least until one video in particular of you in what he recognized as a botanical garden-- the high, domed ceiling made of glass and the condensation obscuring his view of the sky, not to mention the plants literally everywhere gave it away. You were staring down at a box full of white flowers, but were too far away for him to recognize them until whoever was holding the camera got closer.

A male voice called out to you, amused and maybe a little condescending if Akaashi had to say so, asking, “Hey, _____, watcha lookin’ at?”

You visibly jumped in the frame and cast your friend a nervous smile before it cleared up, and in that moment the something Akaashi hadn’t seen in any other picture showed up, just before you reached out and grazed one of the dewy white petals.

Jasmine, he thought, at the same time that you said it. Heat rushed from his ears down to his toes and back up as he recognized the adoration and unadulterated happiness in your smile, and not even the camera-wielder’s derisive laugh could quell the feeling.

“You and your plants. Well, what’s this one mean then?”

If you noticed the tone, you didn’t show it, only standing up straight and putting your finger up in the air as if giving him a lesson as you said, “Jasmine stands for optimism, good fortune, and positive energy. And--”

Love, Akaashi thought, once again at the same time you said it, and he had to sit down at the counter as his nerves got the best of him. He couldn’t take it, the way you stared into the camera with a sharp, knowing look, like you were piercing right into his soul. If his game was given away, then so be it, he was going to confess properly instead of hiding behind his flowers.

Your friend laughed again, and this time Akaashi could see the way you flinched and rolled your eyes, walking away as he mocked you.

“Sure, sure. You really believe in that? Sounds corny if you ask me,” he said, voice crackly through the speaker as the sprinklers came on. He cursed and the video quickly cut out afterwards, probably to protect it from water damage.

Akaashi rewatched that video three more times before finally sending you a text telling you he was flattered that you remembered so much of his ramblings. Laughing, he set his phone down and carded his fingers through his hair, hiding his face in his arms as he thought about what he was planning to do and the ramifications. Was there any way he could salvage it if you rejected him? Was it even worth the risk right now?

There was no answer to his anxious questions, so he did what he always did when he needed something to occupy his mind-- he arranged flowers.

A couple of hours later, your phone pinged with a new alert, and you swiped it open absently as you sipped at a pina colada, almost choking on it when the picture loaded.

Pink, white, and blue all mixed together in an explosion of color on what you guessed was his workbench at the shop. It was one of his most elegant bouquets yet, at least as far as you were concerned, and your curiosity was white hot as you texted him.

‘what are they, kaashi? what do they mean?’

You waited impatiently for him to answer, but he never did, not even reading it. You were a flurry of nerves all that night, warring between calling him, texting him, and just leaving it be. So distracted were you that you lost count of how many drinks you’d had, until you and the rest of your friends were so far gone the bartender cut you off and you made your way up to your rooms to pass out.

You had never been happier to be going home than you were that morning, hungover and still without an answer from your roommate.

Unfortunately, you made a mistake on the drive home. Still distracted by your anxious energy, you scrolled through your phone, liking and commenting on things absently while you listened to your friends chatter in the backseat.

Suddenly, a hand was on your shoulder and a rough voice was in your ear, asking “Do you want to go, _____?”

Not thinking much of it, you agreed, checking your texts again just to see if he’d even read the few you’d sent-- nothing, and you went from worried to hurt. Why had he sent you that picture and then just ignored you afterwards? He was still active on Twitter and Instagram, so you knew he hadn’t fallen off his step stool at the shop. What was his deal?

Your apartment building came into view at last, and your heart picked up speed. It was the weekend, he should be home at this hour. What was he going to say? Or do? You had never been so nervous to get home-- or go home-- as you were just then, but a hand on your wrist stopped you.

Looking to your friend, Eiji, you found him looking at you expectantly.

“I’ll wait for you here, alright? Don’t keep me waiting,” he said, and laughed at the puzzled expression on your face. “You forget already, _____? You agreed to a date. But I figured you’d want to change before we went so…”

“Oh, uh, right,” you said, wracking your brain for when the hell you had agreed to that. His question from earlier drifted through your thoughts, and you could have smacked yourself for being so oblivious. It felt rude to just...change your mind right then, so you braced yourself to suffer through the date. Eiji was nice enough, if not a little pretentious. Nothing like Akaashi--

But you decided not to go down that path.

Grabbing your bag from the trunk, you raced up the steps to the apartment as fast as you could, missing the lock at least twice with how bad your hands were shaking. Flinging the door open, you startled Akaashi, who was sitting on the couch staring at yet another bouquet of flowers.

You stood staring at him, and him back at you, with wide, nervous eyes, neither of you saying anything for a moment, until--

“Welcome home.”

The irritation that had been building all day simmered over as you realized he had actually been ignoring you for no good reason, and then had the audacity to act like everything was fine.

“Hey.”

He didn’t miss the cool edge to your greeting as you wandered towards your room with your bag, sparing the vase on the table the smallest glance. The door closed behind you and you dropped your bag beside the closet, trying to ignore the anger and hurt flowing through you. Your head was starting to hurt again and you really just wanted to lay down for a nap, but your phone dinged, lighting up with Eiji’s name, asking how much longer you were going to be.

Ignoring the temptation to cancel-- you really didn’t want to be rude-- you hurriedly changed into something more appropriate and combed through your hair. Scrunching your nose, you winced at the sunburn you could feel covering your face, wondering how you had gotten it even with your religious use of sunscreen.

Akaashi was still sitting on the couch, the book he had been reading closed on his lap as he stared at the bouquet on the table. When you came into the living room, he perked up, a nervous smile coming onto his face.

“Hey, I wanted to talk-- Are you going somewhere?” He had just realized you had changed into a new outfit and there was a restless energy in the way you checked your phone. You had just gotten home, but you were already ready to leave again.

There was irritation on your face as you glanced up from your phone, and he was unable to tell if it was directed at him or whoever was texting you, but it morphed quickly into apologetic as you sighed. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve got a date. I’ll be back in a bit. We can talk then?”

You didn’t sound too happy about that, and Akaashi definitely wasn’t, but his words stuck in his throat. A date. Jealousy bubbled viciously in his stomach, oozing into his heart and up his throat, and he jerked his head once, willing the tide to stem until you had left. It was his own fault, after all, for waiting so long to ask and then ignoring you for a day.

He was such a coward.

Staring at your phone again, you missed the pinched narrowing of his eyes and headed towards the door, waving goodbye before closing it behind you.

It was only an hour or two later-- you weren’t totally sure, since you weren’t even sure when you had gotten home and abruptly left again-- that you were dragging your sore feet up the steps to the apartment again. The date had gone horribly wrong, right from the start.

Differences of opinion, differences of interests, his disinterest in listening to you talk about anything you were interested in, it seemed like the two of you just couldn’t sync up to have an actual conversation.

Not to mention how you kept inadvertently comparing him to Akaashi, from the way he spoke to you to the way he spoke of other people, right down to the way he ate, for fuck’s sake. You had it bad, and the date was a terrible idea.

When you stepped into the apartment it was quiet and mostly dark, only the lamp on the side table on, and you wondered if Akaashi had either left or gone to bed.

The vase still sat on the table, illuminated in the soft yellow light, and you recognized red roses, tulips, carnations, and the ever present jasmine. Closing the door behind you with a soft click, you kicked off your shoes before sitting on the couch. As ever, the arrangement was flawless, all the flowers mixed together with perfect balance, and you burst into tears.

It was too obvious, now that you thought about it.

Almost two months of flowers, at least one everyday, a bouquet for every milestone or when you were feeling down, his strange text yesterday and how he wanted to talk to you today-- you really were an idiot.

And then you get home and tell him you have a date-- it must have felt like a slap to the face, and the sick queasiness in your stomach was no less than you deserved for doing that to him, for being so blind.

As quiet as you tried to be, you must still have made too much noise-- that or he wasn’t asleep in the first place-- because there was a weight on the couch beside you and an arm around your shoulder.

Soft words you couldn’t comprehend were whispered into your ear, that same arm pulling you close into his chest, where it was joined by the other one around your back. The tears continued to fall, wetting his shirt, your fingers wrinkling it where they twisted in, and he held you until you finally quieted.

“What’s going on, _____? Did your date hurt you?” he asked and, now that you were calm enough to listen, you could hear the panic and worry in his words.

Taking deep, gulping breaths to steady yourself, you shook your head. “No, nothing like that, I-- ‘Kaashi, I’m so sorry. I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have agreed to that stupid date, he was such a jerk and all I could think about was you and then I came home and saw the flowers and I realized--”

He shifted against you, petting your hair as you stumbled over your words. He could hear the unshed tears building up again and rushed to soothe you before they could spill over. “Woah, hey, slow down. Why were you thinking of me on your date?”

You paused to look up at him, tan skin and blue eyes backlit by the lamp, face twisted in confusion and you had the insane urge to laugh. He was so beautiful it was unfair, how could he ever want a stressed out mess like you?

“I think I love you, Akaashi,” you whispered, and then dropped your eyes down to his chest, unable to stand the fear of rejection.

A soft hand cupped your cheek, thumb sliding across your cheekbone before tilting your head up to face him again.

His nose brushed yours and you swore your heart stopped, a soft noise leaving the back of your throat as he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering, you closed the distance, grazing his lips in what could barely be called a kiss and only left you aching for more. He delivered, slanting his lips across yours, molding them together and your head spun with a mixture of relief and desire. The scent of the flowers on the table mingled with the smell that always came off of him, a heady perfume of hundreds of different flowers that you couldn’t get enough of. It clung to his skin, his clothes, and now you, and you allowed your hands to run over his shoulders and up the back of his neck, threading into the curls at the nape of his neck.

By the time you parted, you had crawled into his lap, knees on either side of his hips, and followed that up with several small kisses afterwards. His hands found their way up your shirt, stroking along your spine and squeezing your side as you rested your forehead against his.

“You’ve been telling me all this time, haven’t you?” you asked, barely a whisper, and he chuckled breathlessly in response.

“Yeah. I guess it was too subtle,” he answered, and then kissed you again. He couldn’t get enough, not after he had waited so long to taste you. His palms smoothed up your back, just beneath the strap of your bra, and you shivered in his hold. “I can show you now, if you want?”

You shivered at the warm promise in his words and nodded. “Please, ‘Kaashi.”

He hummed in response, leading a trail of kisses across your cheek to just beneath your ear. Nimble fingers unclasped your bra beneath your shirt, and then came back down to grip your thighs. With a strength you hadn’t expected, he hoisted you up from the couch, carrying you down the hall and kicking open his door.

You had been in his room countless times before, but it took on a different view when you were laid on your back on his bed, surrounded by a dark grey blanket with him hovering over you. He was stripping out of his shirt, and you licked your lips at each inch of skin that was exposed. His muscles rippled as he pulled it over his head, revealing his lean chest, flushed as red as his cheeks as he caught you staring.

“What is it?” he asked as he propped himself up over you. He was still standing, your legs hanging off the side of the bed and he nudged them open, slotting himself between your thighs. Your expression was that of a deer in headlights as you looked from his face down to the bulge in his shorts, settled right against the crotch of your jeans.

“You’re just-- so pretty, Akaashi,” you whispered, trailing the fingers of one hand down his throat and chest, watching the muscles on his stomach jump and flex. Your head was still spinning with all this new information, but you weren’t about to let it overwhelm you. Wrapping your other arm around his neck, you pulled him down for another searing kiss, his lips turning up against yours.

When he pulled back, he was blushing, but there was a steely, mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Not as pretty as you, kitten. I think these clothes need to go. I want to feel you,” he said, tugging your shirt over your head. You sat up to help him and followed that by throwing your bra to the floor beside him, and he groaned. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Palming your breasts in his hands, he pinched your nipples between his fingers, feeling you shiver beneath him. Your back arched, begging him silently for more, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. You looked so good, sprawled out beneath him, eyes wide and pupils blown out, lips parted in pleasure. His cock ached at the sight, and he gave into the temptation to grind his hips into yours, eliciting a quiet gasp from you.

Fingers wrapped around the hard muscle of his bicep. “Akaashi, please.”

“Keiji. Say it,” he commanded even as his fingers trailed down from your breasts to your stomach. He smiled when you giggled but didn’t prolong it, instead flicking the button of your jeans open. They were tugged roughly down your legs and discarded, and then he was tracing the outside of your panties, watching you squirm.

Your lips parted as he ghosted his fingers over your clit, panties already dampe under his touch. “Kei-ji, touch me, please,” you whined, fingers digging into the blanket.

“Whatever you need, kitten. I’ve got you,” he said, pulling the gusset of your panties aside. You were already so slick, and you moaned when the pads of his fingers rubbed over your folds. The heel of his hand grazed your clit and you were desperate for more. “You’re so beautiful, _____. So wet for me.”

You nodded in agreement, tears of frustration beginning to sting your eyes, and you called his name when he finally sunk one long, slender finger into your tight heat. You clenched around him as his thumb found your clit, pumping in and out of you. A second finger soon joined the first, his heated eyes locked on your slick covering his palm and the way your pussy seemed to suck them back in hungrily. A mess of moans and his name fell from your lips, accentuated by the thrust of your hips as you seeked out more of his touch.

With a groan he sank to his knees, letting his tongue replace his thumb and he swore he’d never tasted anything sweeter on his tongue.

“God, princess, you taste so good,” he groaned against your clit, and you spasmed around him at the sensation. His fingers were long enough that you could feel him toy with your cervix on every thrust, and your toes curled when he grazed over the spongy spot on your walls. “Need you to cum on my fingers, okay? Then I can fill up this pretty pussy.”

You gasped at his words, not expecting anything that filthy from your soft spoken roommate. That coupled with the mental image of him sliding his cock into you drove you right over the precipice of your orgasm.

He moaned, feeling your walls clamp down on his fingers, and his cock twitched.

When he stood up, he drank in the sight of your heaving chest and spread legs, pussy glistening. Arousal and contentment flooded his system, purely happy that he finally had you laying before him as he’d dreamt so many times before, and he let his shorts drop to the floor.

Your jaw dropped as he pumped his shaft a few times, smearing the precum already leaking down his thick shaft. It was a good thing he had prepared you, but the thought of having to stretch to take him was equally tempting. The slick sounds made you squirm, wanting to be filled and stretched. You locked your ankles around his thighs, earning a chuckle.

“Patience, kitten. Slide up the bed,” he said, watching you move backwards until you were laying in the center.

The bed dipped under his weight and he crawled over you, shoving his knees beneath your thighs. Hoisting your legs up to lock around his hips, he let his cock settle against your folds. You shuddered when he slid across your still sensitive clit, whining low in your throat.

“Too sensitive, kitten? Want to stop?” he teased, and laughed at the look of panic that flashed across your face. You shook your head frantically, legs tightening around him, and he soothed you by cupping your cheek. “Me either. I’m gonna make you feel so good, pretty girl.”

There was a promise in his eyes, and you were still trying to connect the Akaashi you knew with this one, the one that was cajoling and teasing and making you ache with a need to be filled with his thick cock.

“Please, Keiji,” you murmured, laying your hand atop his and nuzzling against his palm. “I want you inside me. Wanted you for so long, please don’t tease.”

He smiled in response, guiding himself to your entrance and you moaned as the head of his cock slipped in and you accidentally clenched around him when you thought of having all of him. A hiss filled your ears and he thrust the rest of the way in, your cunt parting around him like it was made for him.

“Goddammit, you’re so tight,” he cursed, trying to control the temptation to rock his hips. You were trembling underneath him, and he braced himself up on his elbows, resting his forehead against yours. “Need you to squeeze around me again, pretty girl. Please*.”

You earned a gasp when you did, his hips jerking down into you, his pubic bone grinding your clit and you mewled his name.

“K-Keiji, a-ah, that feels so good,” you whined, tears pricking your eyes. Your legs tightened around him, keeping him in place as he rocked into you in short, shallow thrusts.

“Good girl. You feel so good, kitten. So tight and wet. God.” His voice was low and gravelly, eyes shut tight as he fisted the blankets by your head. He kept up that steady pace, pulling out more and more with each thrust until he was pistoning into you. The wet slap of his hips against yours filled the room, mingling with your moans and cries of his name. Each thrust hit every sweet spot, the curls at the base of his cock tickling your clit, driving you quickly towards your end again. Your nails dug into biceps as your hips rose to meet his, and when he opened his eyes he found you staring at him with open love and lust.

His lips crashed against yours, forcing you to swallow the loud groan that he uttered when he slowed and circled his hips, forcing his cock even deeper into your tight cunt. Your back arched, forcing your chest against his, and his fingers tangled in your hair.

“Need you to cum for me, kitten,” he whispered against your lips, repeating that same circling motion. The way he rubbed your clit and ground into your cervix flung you over the edge with a wail of his name. You squeezed so tight around him that his hips jerked and he found himself cumming, painting your insides white, unable to pull away because your legs were still locked around him. “*Shit, goddammit*.”

He let his head fall to the bed beside you, sliding his arms up until he was pressed flush against you. Breathing shakily, you let your hands roam his back, spreading the sweat that had built up. Your hips were starting to hurt and Akaashi noticed them shaking and sat up, pulling out of you so he could put your legs down.

“Akaashi, I--” you started to say, but he cupped your cheek and covered your lips with his thumb, cutting you off.

“It’s still Keiji, pretty girl. And I think we can talk about this in the bath,” he said, helping you up and off the bed.

After the bath was drawn and you were settled comfortably against his chest, drawing random patterns on his skin, he let you speak.

“What’re we gonna do now, Keiji? We already live together, I guess. Nothing’s going to change, right?” you asked, watching drops of water roll down his skin. He was so warm and you found yourself wanting to fall asleep, you were so comfortable.

His soft fingers were trailing up and down your back, his arm resting on the side of the tub, and he hummed thoughtfully before saying, “Well, I’d like to date you, if that’s acceptable. Otherwise no, I don’t believe anything will change. Other than I’ll fall in love with you even more, _____.”

The back of your neck grew hot at his words and you hid your face behind your hands, fighting the heat that spread all over. Your heart stuttered and you whined even as your eyes stung. That was all you had wanted over the course of the last several months, and now here he was telling you exactly what you wanted to hear. It was an actual dream come true.

Once you had fought the embarrassment back down you turned to look up at him.

It was a fruitless endeavor because the soft, loving gaze you met made it erupt all over again, and you kissed the smirk right off his pretty lips for it.

“I love you, Keiji,” you whispered against his lips, and smiled when you heard the words breathed back. Settling back down, you resumed your doodling, spelling out different things against his slick skin, and then asked, “The flowers in the picture you sent. What were they and why did you send it and then ignore me?”

He chuckled at the petulant tone, the sound pleasant in your ear where it rested over his heart, before answering.

“Well, you had just sent that video of you in the garden and after watching it, I decided I was going to confess when you got home. The flowers just helped ground me.” Guilt flooded you again as you remembered how you had brushed him off when you walked through the door and, as if he could sense it, he wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your hair. “It’s alright, princess. I deserved it after ignoring you. I was just scared to tell you because I couldn’t tell you the meanings behind them without giving myself away.

You relaxed in his hold again, tilting your head up to look at him and were floored all over again. You would surely never get tired of the soft adoration in his beautiful eyes and hoped it would never fade. “So, what were they then?”

“Azalea’s for homesickness, because you took my heart with you. Camellia’s for passion, because that’s how strongly I feel about you. Forget-me-nots for love, so you don’t forget. And jasmine because they’re your favorite, and I love you with my whole being.”

The words were whispered into your hair, the only other sound besides the gentle sloshing of water as he had started to rock you back and forth, fingers cupping your neck to hold you too him, and the tears that had burned earlier welled over as you realized how deeply he meant those words and how deeply he had embedded himself into your heart.

There was no doubt in his mind that the tears spilling down his chest were good, not when they were overlaid with kisses everywhere you could manage, and then you stilled, content to just let him hold you after that. No other words were said until the water grew colder and you shivered.

“We should go to bed. It’s already very late,” he murmured, and helped you to stand. His breath hitched as the water cascaded down your body, feeling arousal build all over again. He ignored it as you toweled off and redressed, snagging his shirt up before he could grab it and slipping it over your head. “You are not helping me to keep my hands off you, kitten,” he growled, grabbing you by the hips and guiding you towards his bedroom.

You let him lead you with no resistance besides pausing to wiggle against him and giggling when he sighed in mock exasperation.

“Maybe I’m not trying to,” you said, sauntering towards the bed.

“If that’s the case,” he answered, pinning you to the mattress. Your legs naturally came up to hook over his hips and his shorts slipped down, exposing his already hard cock. “I guess we aren’t ready for bed yet.”

⇥ masterlist

⇥ taglist: @sluttony, @visaintes, @yunhosblackgf, @super-noya, @byebyes-world, @newfriendjen

#akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #keiji akaashi x reader #haikyuu x reader #.thesymbolforlove

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notdonesimpin · 3 years

Text

leave ~o.m.~

osamu miya x reader

warnings: its just angst. cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater

synopsis: “Look, I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately, but if you want effort, I’ll give it to you. If you want time, I’ll devote all of it to you. Just please. Please don’t leave me. “

a/n: hope you enjoy :)

“I’m leaving,” you sharply speak, turning from him as you head towards the door.

Osamu's eyes narrow as he watches you walk away, “Of course you are. That’s all you know how to do.”

You pause, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You didn’t dare look at him. You didn’t want to see the nasty smirk he was giving you. The same look he always gave when you are trying to have a serious conversation with him and he just dismisses everything you say.

“Every time we start arguing, you leave! You don’t even try to fix the problem between us. How are we just going to get mad and stop talking to each other for days on end until we get over it for the rest of our lives?”

“I didn’t think you’d even thought that far in advance,” you huff.

“What the fuck is your problem, Y/N? The past two months have been absolute hell with you.”

You couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your face as you turned around to look at him. “My problem? My fucking problem is that every time I see your face, i see her. Every time we have sex, I see her on top of you and me walking in as the tears roll down my face. I hear your pitiful excuse of an apology and accept it nonetheless. So, yes, the past two months have been hell. At least, I know you understand how I fucking felt when that happened.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I thought we were past that. It was a fucking mistake, Y/N! Are you going to hold it over me for the rest of my life?”

You storm over to him, getting right in his face, “Are you ever going to actually feel sorry about cheating on me? Every night, I think about how you told me that it was a mistake, and it’d never happen again. I don’t think you ever acknowledged how seeing you like that made me feel. Nor have you tried to make up for your mistakes.”

“Do you want me to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness? Do you want me to write a thesis on how wrong I was and turn it into you?” He raises his voice.

“Don’t raise your fucking voice at me like you’re the one who’s been suffering. I have had so many people look at me with pity because of what you did! Why am I becoming the outcast when you are the one that fucked up?”

You step away from him and sit down in one of the lounge chairs. “You want to talk it out? Let’s talk. Let’s put it all on the table.”

Osamu sits on the couch, facing his body towards you as you both fall into a boat of silence.

“Why did you cheat on me?”

Osamu rolls his eyes, “I told you. It was a mistake!”

“Mistake or not- Something had to be wrong with me or our relationship for you to even consider it!”

“I’m sorry that you think something was wrong. Nothing was. I just got a little carry away.”

“You’ve been plastered fucking drunk before and never hit on another girl. Am I supposed to believe that blatant lie?”

“I don’t know what you want to hear.”

“The truth, Osamu.”

He looks down, fiddling with his fingers, “I was bored. I know that’s a shitty excuse, but it’s the truth. I’m sorry.”

You feel tears begin to stream down your face as your heart breaks again, looking at the man in front of you.

He was bored? You were boring? Did you not give him enough of yourself? Was all you had not enough?

You snap out of your thoughts when you feel his hand on top of yours which causes you to jolt back to get away from him.

He couldn’t hide the surprise in your action. “Whatever you’re thinking isn’t true. I’m not bored of you or us.”

“Then how? I feel like I can’t leave your side or you’re going to get bored again. I’m so scared you’re going to do it again.”

“Move on or break up with me!” he snapped, growing frustrated that you couldn’t let the situation go.

“Do you want that? Do you want to break up?”

Osamu’s eyes widen as he realizes what just came out of his mouth. He doesn’t mean them. He knows he doesn’t, do you?

He’d never imagined a life without you, so he’d always been pretty laid back and hands off when it came down to things.

Even when he cheated on you, he knew that you’d still be his forever, so he never actually did anything to earn your forgiveness. He knows that Atsumu apologized on his behalf and even gave you a place to stay while you were balling your eyes out and he was working at his business with you at the very back of his mind.

He just never felt the need to show you how much he cared because he felt it was obvious, and now, it’s all crashing down right in front of his eyes.

“Y/N, I-” he can’t think of words to say that could make up for the things you’ve been through because of him. How can he make up for a year of doing the bare minimum in the next few seconds? Was two years really going to come to an end like this?

“Osamu. I love you so much,” you weakly smile at him, “And I hate myself everyday because of that.”

“Look, I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately, but if you want effort, I’ll give it to you. If you want time, I’ll devote all of it to you. Just please. Please don’t leave me.”

“So this is what it took for you to take our relationship seriously? Did I just have to think about breaking up?” you scoff, getting up again, “You know, I am so scared of there being someone out there that would treat me so much better than you. Do you realize how insane I sound? I’d rather be treated like shit by you than be with someone who doesn’t need to be told how to be a decent boyfriend. Someone who cannot accept doing the bare minimum.”

“You’re right! Okay? I am a terrible boyfriend. I have wronged you in more ways than either of us can count, but you still stood by my side. I took that for granted- I can see that. Nothing I can say can make up for the things of the past, but can you give me another shot?”

“Another shot? Like the first shot I gave you after you ghosted me for a month after we graduated? Or the second shot when I found you in bed with another girl? Or the third shot when I accepted Atsumu’s apology on your behalf because Atsumu knows that you can’t survive without me? I can’t live like this anymore. I won’t. Let’s end things here, Osamu.”

You walk out without another word as he just sits there, processing everything that’s happened.

He snaps out of his thoughts once he feels a tear hit his hand and before he knew it, they wouldn’t stop flowing. He watched his hands catch each tear as he thought: So this is what it feels like to lose your everything.

#osamu miya #osamu miya x reader #osamu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #osamu miya x you #osamu x you #hq masterfind

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capaimagines · 4 years

Text

jackson wang - forever yours

Pairing: Jackson Wang x Reader | Genre: angst | Warnings: none | WC: 2.0k

part two

“You look gorgeous in that dress,” Jackson smiled, leaning in and kissing your temple. You looked up at him with a huge smile on your face, eyes full of nothing but love an adoration for the man in front of you, “Be my girlfriend?” He asked with a giggle to which you had immediately nodded your head, leaning up to place a kiss to his lips. It had been months since you wanted to hear that question and you finally heard it.

Sure, it was going to be rough, most relationships were. You were both constantly busy; you were coming to the end of your master’s degree as well as working part time, it took a lot of energy from you. As for Jackson, he was an idol and managed his own company. It was going to be difficult but the both of you were so determined to make it work, not matter what.

Until it no longer worked.

Roughly two years after the two of you started dating did the late nights start. You were always pulling all nighters to work on projects and your long thesis. Jackson on the other hand was always either at the studio preparing for their next album, filming variety shows or even promoting overseas. Due to the late nights, he’d just stay at the dorms with the guys, not wanting to wake you up at odd hours of the night and sometimes it was just more convenient.

You were working part time at a little café by night and a diligent student during the day. On top of finishing your thesis and searching for internships, there wasn’t much time you had to spare in your day for yourself, let alone Jackson. With his frequent trips back and forth to China and overseas to promote his brand, there was little time he could spare for himself, let alone you.

At first you brushed it aside, wanting to fight hard to make this work for the both of you. You had ignored it at first, both of you still making it work the best you could. You knew what you were signing up for when you said yes to being his girlfriend two years ago. You knew he was going to have times where he was unbelievably busy, times when he would be too tired to drive back to your shared apartment and crash at the dorm. Though you always had that hope deep inside.

Jackson also knew that you were going to have a busy schedule with college and work. You wanted to finish school, get your degree, find a job in your field. You were always adamant, you never once expected Jackson to pay for everything. This was for you to deal with. Even though he would have no problem in helping you out financially, he knew this was your dream. That you liked the feeling of being independent and he didn’t want to take that away from you.

At first, it was rough, the two of you were practically attached at the hip. Always together and when times got busy there were plenty of late-night phone calls, messages, and facetime calls. Just the fact that you were able to talk to one another and see each other, even if it was over a phone screen, was enough for you two. Both of you loved each other so much; so determined to make this work. Until it wasn’t anymore.

Eventually, Jackson became busier and busier. The late-night phone calls stopped or only lasted several minutes, until they almost stopped altogether. Lengthy messages or even ones reminding you how much he loved you and missed you turned into one-worded messages. I love you was barely said anymore, even though you both felt it. You couldn’t place all the blame on him, you also were at fault.

In your last semester of school, it was crunch time. You had been picking up extra shifts too in order to save up some extra money until you found your internship. With the late hours of working on your thesis, answering the phone didn’t happen all the time anymore. Usually you would tell him that you were busy and would call him back. The first few times, you would call him back. Until it started getting later and later and eventually, you’d fall asleep in front of your laptop and it completely left your mind.

This wasn’t working, for either of you. As much as it pained you, as much as you felt your heart breaking every time you thought of it, you knew it needed to happen. Deep down, Jackson knew too. Despite how much the two of you loved each other, it was an idea neither of you wanted to fathom. An idea that neither of you ever thought would become a reality. Not for you two.

“We need to talk,” You said, biting your bottom lip to keep your voice from trembling.

Jackson sighed, walking in and closing the door. He walked up to hug you to which you couldn’t help but squeeze him back. It had been months since you’d last seen each other in person. Months since you felt him against you. Months since you were able to run your fingers through his hair, kiss his lips, hold his hand. Months since you last smelled him.

“I know,” He said sadly, kissing the top of your head. He held your hand and pulled you towards the couch, sitting down and interlocking both of your hands together tightly. You both knew what was coming, what needed to be done. Though, saying the words out loud made both of your hearts shatter into a million pieces because neither of you really wanted this, you thought you could do it.

“Jackson, I-,” You had to stop yourself as the tears were already piling up and threatening to fall.

He squeezed your hand tightly, the words becoming harder to say out loud. Deep down neither of you wanted to stop. You truly adored each other and envisioned your futures together in creating a family, watching your children run around the yard and take in who had who’s features. To see you walking down the aisle with your beautiful smile as well as your body hugging a beautiful, expensive white dress. You dreamed of spending the rest of your lives by each other's side. You both wanted that more than anything at one point. You both had things you were still reaching for, both still had dreams you wanted to achieve before all of that.

“Y/N, I-I love you,” He stuttered out as you held your breath.

You felt stupid for not being able to say the words. That you were about to let the man you love, the man you pictured spending the rest of your days with until you were both old with gray hair and chasing each other around in wheelchairs, speak the godforsaken words that were about to shatter both of your worlds. You couldn’t even bring yourself to spare him that.

“This isn’t working, Jackson,” You breathed out.

You don’t know what came over you. You couldn’t allow him to hurt more than he was already hurting. While you knew he was breaking, his face in front of you contorted into what looked like actual physical pain, you couldn’t allow him to speak those words because it would break him entirely.

“Jackson, I love you. I’ve always loved you. I’ll still love you, but we can’t do this anymore, baby. We both know it’s not working. It’s hurting us more being together. Hurting us more that we are dying to be with each other but we can’t.”

You took a deep breath, doing your best to keep your voice steady, “I fully support you and I knew what I was signing up for when I said yes, but this,” You gestured between the two of you, “This isn’t how our relationship should be. We both have so many things going on, Jackson. We have so many dreams, goals and aspirations,” You closed your eyes, taking another deep breath before speaking, “We need to break up.”

You opened your eyes and let the tears fall the second you looked into his eyes. Silent tears were already streaming down his. You could literally feel the pain he was feeling in his chest. As if on instinct, you clutched your hands to your chest, feeling a dull ache building, Jackson doing the same.

“You’re my biggest dream, Y/N. We can try again, we can make this work,” He pleaded.

You sniffled, cupping his cheek with one of your hands. Oh, how you wish it could work. That you two could make this work. You weren’t in any position to be traveling the world with him yet and you were not about to ask him to give up everything he had worked so hard for, for years before he met you, to stay with you. You would not take his dreams away.

“You’re mine too, baby, but right now, it’s just not right. We need to accomplish everything we want first.” He let out a strangled sob and you felt your heart shatter even more, if that was even possible.

“In the future?” He asked quietly, forehead pressed against yours, his hand covering the one you had on his cheek. Pressing into his skin like it was the last moments of your lives.

You let out a choked sob, nodding your head, “The future, baby. I’m yours. Forever yours.”

It took a moment before he finally stood up, slowly making his way towards the door. You trailed behind him, wanting to wait until he left before you could break down completely. You didn’t want to hurt him more than he was already hurting. But seeing him, the once bright, happy, positive, loud person you fell in love with, looking like nothing but a shell of that person right now. Red eyes, puffy cheeks, tears falling off his face. The way his chest heaved unevenly as he tried to keep his emotions contained. It broke you more than you could ever break. Wanting nothing more than to take him into your arms, to assure him that this could work, that you two could make it happen. You couldn’t lie to him anymore. You couldn’t lie to yourself.

Jackson knew that. While he wanted nothing more than to just pick you up and run away, somewhere far away where none of this could affect either of you. Where it could just be you and him in a nice house and living out the rest of your days together. He was smart; he knew that couldn’t happen right now. As much as he wanted that, as much as his heart and his head were screaming for that, he loved his work. He loved his job and he wasn’t ready to give all that up yet.

He flinched as you wrapped your arms around him, taking in shaky breaths and burying your face into his chest. His arms automatically came around you, pulling you even closer. If only you two could mold together right now. Be one with each other.

“Kiss me, Y/N,” He said as he tilted your chin up gently.

You did just that, your chapped and tear stained lips meeting his. While you both could taste the saltiness of the tears, the love and passion in that kiss was enough to tell you both that this was it. This was the end.

No more late-night phone calls. No more morning sex or cuddling. No more spontaneous dinner dates and movie nights. No more surprising him at work or him surprising you by coming home early. It was truly going to end now as he walked out the door.

He turned to face you, face scrunched up in pain, hurt, and love, “I’ll always love you, Y/N. Always.”

You let out a whimper, kissing his cheek one last time, “I’ll always love you, Jackson. Goodbye.”

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xaphrin · 4 years

Text

Damian was fighting to keep his eyes on the road and his heart in his chest. Next to him sat Raven, looking so damn pretty it hurt to breathe, and he found himself wanting to stare at her the whole ride to the animal shelter. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and saw a lock of hair had fallen from her bun, brushing against the curve of her cheek. His fingers itched to brush it away, but… right. They weren’t those kinds of friends.

For the hundredth time that night, he silently promised himself he was doing to keep his heart intact. He might have been head-over-heels in love with her, but that didn’t mean she loved him back, and he wasn’t willing to risk his own feelings just yet. Damian cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white.

“So.” He needed to talk, if only to fill the silence that was growing between them. Otherwise the rest of this night was going to be painfully awkward.

Raven turned and looked at him, her lips pulling down into a frown. “What?”

“How’s your senior thesis coming along?” School seemed a safe topic, so he’d stick with that. “What was it on again? Emily Dickinson?”

Raven’s face fell and she turned to look at him, obviously insulted. “Do you think every female literature student does their senior thesis on Emily Dickinson?”

“I don’t know. I’m not a literature student.” Damian tried to sound nonchalant, as if he didn’t really care, but mentally he was kicking himself. Honestly, he couldn’t remember what she said she was working on, because every time she started talking about it, her eyes lit up and she got this excited almost dreamy expression on her face, and Damian got lost in her. She was easy to get lost in. He bit the inside of his cheek and looked over at her, forcing his expression to remain neutral. “You’re applying to grad school, right?”

“Yeah, actually.” She looked surprised that he remembered, and fidgeting with the strap on her purse, as if suddenly nervous. “I submitted my application last week. But, I have a few more weeks before I find out if I got into the program.”

“You know you’ll get in.” Damian stared up at a red light, refusing to look at her. If he did, he knew he’d forget everything he was supposed to say to her. How in the world could she break him like this? “I don’t know why you’re so worried. You’re the smartest, most inspired student in the whole program.”

“Was that… a compliment, Damian Wayne?” Her voice was teasing, almost playful, and it made his stomach twist. Raven shifted and stared out the windshield, a small smile playing on her lips. “We’ve been fighting each other for the better part of four years, and you actually complimented me. Well, shit. I guess I owe Conner ten bucks.”

At the sound of Conner’s name, Damian frowned. He remembered Conner’s soft touches and soft, lopsided smiles at Raven, and Damian shifted in his seat. Maybe there was more to their relationship. “Are you two… together?”

Raven snorted. “With Conner? No.” She glanced back at him, her dark eyes searching his face. “I mean sure, he’s fun and cute, and he almost out-bid you at the auction-”

Damian gave her a flat stare. Of course she was going to bring that up.

“-but no.” She paused, as if suddenly realizing that was a very personal question. Her eyebrows knitted together and she stared at him. “Why do you ask?”

He shrugged, hoping he looked unaffected by her or her suspicion. “No reason. I just noticed you were a bit more chummy with him over the last few parties.” Jealousy, thick and viscous spilled into his chest, and Damian forced himself to breathe just to ignore it. “I thought maybe you two had hooked up or something.”

“Oh, god no.” Raven shook her head, color leaving her face as she forced out a bark of laughter. “Trust me. I made the mistake of dating a frat boy once. Never again will I wander down that road.”

Damian jerked and looked over at her, surprised. “What? Who did you date?”

“Gar. For all of six weeks during freshman year.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Do you not remember? You teased us relentlessly. I think half the reason we broke up was to get you to shut up and leave up alone.”

Memories flooded his thoughts, and Damian felt heat crawl up his neck. Ah, no. He remembered. It was definitely not one of his finer moments, but it had been before he understood what his feelings really were towards Raven. He remembered being angry and jealous, and he didn’t want to see them together, he just didn’t understand why. It wasn’t until months later that he realized he liked Raven. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah… I’m sorry about that.”

Raven seemed surprised by his apology, but she chose not to tease him about it. Instead, she shrugged and glanced away. “It’s fine. It never would have worked out between us anyway. That relationship was doomed from the start. Gar is still getting his life together, and I can’t wait for that. I don’t want to wait for that.” She paused as if realizing something, and looked back at Damian. “Why did you join the frat in the first place? I mean, you’re a legacy student, rich as all get out, and could have rented a swank apartment just off campus. You don’t need to join a fraternity.”

Damian shrugged. “Father belonged to the same one when he was in college, and he thought it would be good for business connections and my… social skills.” He rolled his eyes.

Raven laughed. “Social skills. Ah. So you’ve always had this stick up your ass? Good to know it’s not a recent development.”

Damian glanced over at her and tried to glare, but her smile melted whatever annoyance filled him. He blinked and looked away, turning down a side street towards the animal shelter. He swallowed and felt the confession bubble up before he could stop it. “I’m going to grad school too.”

Raven hummed, but the sound was playful. “Are you telling me I have at least three more years of you? Three more years of you harping on my reading choices?”

“At least.” He smirked. “I’ll make sure to bother you whenever I get the chance.”

“Are you going to stay in the frat house?”

“Probably not. I’m getting a little too old for that. The freshmen parties keep me up way too late.”

“Careful, Dami. Otherwise I’m going to start thinking you’re an old man.”

He gave her a flat stare, but tried not to crow at the playful nickname she offered. “What about you? Are you staying with Karen and Donna?”

“No.” Raven shook her head. “Karen is taking an internship in San Francisco, and Donna is going to Europe to work with her family’s company.” A pensive, sad expression filled her face. “If I get accepted, I’ll have to find somewhere to live before I start.”

The offer fell out of his mouth before he could stop it. “You could stay with me.”

Oh god. No. Panic filled his chest and tried to think of a way to make it a joke, but nothing came to mind. Instead he sat there and watched as several expressions of confusion colored Raven’s face.

Raven snorted. “As what? Your maid?”

“No.” Why did his mouth insist on talking? He couldn’t stop talking, and he needed to right now. “I mean… as roommates. I have the money and the space is easy to find. You need somewhere to stay. You’re clean and quiet, and you’d stay out of my business.” Damian finally breathed. Safe. “You’d be the perfect roommate. Like having a cat you never see.”

She rolled her eyes. “Gee, when you put it like that, how can I refuse? Be still my beating heart.”

He shrugged. “The offer stands. If you can’t find a place before fall, let me know.”

Raven laughed. “You know. I’ll do it. I’ll be your roommate just to annoy you.” She smirked and looked over at him, finally tucking that stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Put flavored creamer in my coffee every morning.”

“How many times do I have to say that you don’t sully good coffee with cheap creamer?” He seethed and pulled into the parking lot, shoving the car into park. “It’s a waste of good coffee.”

She laughed again and unbuckled her seatbelt. “I’ll make sure I have every single flavor in the fridge. Even down to the disgusting seasonal flavors. Pumpkin Spice. Egg Nog. Mint Chocolate.”

“That’s it.” Damian flung open his car door and stepped out, glaring at her over the roof of his car. “The offer has been officially revoked. You are no longer allowed to be my roommate.”

Raven laughed and followed him into the animal shelter, her steps uneven. Damian glanced down at her and realized her clothes didn’t fit quite right. Which meant she was probably wearing Donna’s shoes as well as Donna’s dress. His heart did something weird in his chest, and he realized that Raven had dressed up for him. Something like excitement and pride mixed together, and he found himself wanting to kiss her. Of course, he always wanted to kiss her, but right now… he was ready to throw caution to the wind and make out with her right on the animal shelter steps.

“Kittens.”

Her voice was soft and strained, as if she was trying to contain her excitement, and it pulled Damian deeper into his internal struggle to not fall in love with her any more. He glanced up to see Raven taking a shy step forward, looking through the window at the kitten and cat room. They lounged on trees and in beds, watching her with a curious expression. For a moment, he stood there and let this memory burn in his head. Raven’s eyes were wide and bright, and a soft smile played on her lips. She looked… cute. Too cute. His heart twisted even more in his chest and he guided her to the front door.

He smirked and held open the door for her. “You can pet them, you know.”

Raven glanced up at him, and Damian was pretty sure his insides were now permanently mush. She looked so eager, and he wanted to get her whatever she wanted just to keep that expression on her face.

“It’s gonna take me a bit to get the paperwork completed for the donation.” He was trying not to look completely and utterly enamored with her, but knew he was probably failing. “Go play with the cats.”

Her eyes widened for a moment, before her face fell back into a stern expression, poking him in the chest. “This stays between us.”

“That you turn into a small child at the sight of a kitten?” He forced a sarcastic smile. “You think I’m not going to take a picture of you and put it all over the internet.” He wasn’t, but she didn’t know that. “I can see the headline now: Resident Hardass, Raven Roth, Actually has a Soft Side.”

Before he could blink, Raven reached into his pants pocket and yanked out his cell phone, holding it up in front of his face. “I’ll keep this until we leave. Consider it collateral.” Sticking out her tongue at him, she shoved his phone into her bra and out of his reach, before turning around and heading to play with the cats.

“Your girlfriend is cute.”

Damian turned and looked at the office worker who had come out to meet him, and he didn’t bother correcting the assumption. Raven was cute, and he desperately wanted her as his girlfriend.

He finished up with the donation, writing out the check and posing for a few promotional photos with workers from the animal shelter. But his thoughts were thirty feet away, with Raven as she moved around the room, playing with cats. Damian stood there for a few minutes and watched her, all spread out on the floor, cats and kittens crawling over her and making her light up and smile so damned bright. Damian stared at her, his heart so heavy and so full that breathing hurt. He didn’t understand how he could protect his heart anymore.

He was irrevocably in love with her, and it was only going to hurt him to keep denying it.

Raven looked up and saw him standing there. She picked up a kitten that had been crawling up her back, and set it on the floor before stepping out of the room to meet him. She was covered in cat fur, and that somehow only made her cuter. He was so damn gone for her.

“You’re a mess.” He said, shaking his head with a laugh. “And you desperately need a lint roller.”

Damian went and borrowed one from the front desk clerk, taking time to roll off the back of her dress and her skirt. The whole act felt strangely intimate, but Raven didn’t seem to mind. Instead she was laughing, twisting away when he found a ticklish spot near her side. Forgetting who he was, Damian wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back to him, running the lint roller over her stomach and letting himself bathe in her joy. She felt like liquid sunshine in his arms, happy and honest, and so unlike the usual studious hardass she was. His world was shifting even more, and Raven was standing in the center like a beacon.

“Careful, Dami.” Her voice was soft and breathy from laughter, and she smelled of lavender and vanilla. God. He could feel her heat spilling through his clothes and warming him in the best way possible. She turned in his arms and plucked the lint roller from his hand, tilting her face up to meet his own. Her lips shifted to the side, and she poked a finger in his chest. “People might get the wrong idea about us.”

His mind was filled with one thought: Let them.

#damirae #demonbirds #college au #LOOK CATS!#I know this is saccharine and too sweet #BUT LET ME HAVE THIS #please #also I'm so sorry #dialogue is not my strong point #so I hope this isn't too bad #thank you for letting me just make terrible decisions

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Text

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (10/17)

Summary: “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice.” At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Note: This took a while. I had this written out for a while, I just spent a good amount of brain cells trying to figure out where to cut this. It’s almost done actually. I’m expecting like (at the most) 5 more chapters so maybe I can get it done by the end of March if I muster up the courage and the effort to do all the final revisions to the last few chapters.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Other Chapters:1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Link to cross-postings: AO3

As Levi soon found out, Hange kept a folder online tagged ‘Levi Ackerman.’

The oldest pictures were dated more than three years ago and the first had been one of his cool down after his performance at his first tournament. There was variety in the pictures and they covered everything, all the way from warming up on the bench, positioning himself to run and those few moments right after launching himself in the air to the peak of his jump. She had even snuck pictures of his interviews.

The first time he opened it, he had first checked the dates to make sure he hadn’t been dreaming or assuming she of all people had been a fan. The weirdly strong emotions he had felt at the realization of the existence of such a folder had only made him all the more vulnerable and the last thing he had wanted to do was an act on an illusion or trick of the mind.

The experiences he had on the field clearing jump after jump had become routine over the five year period. Despite the changes among the faces in the crowd, the cheers that had only been getting louder and louder and of course, the oval that changed with the venue, sometimes the only thing Levi did remember was the blue sky staring him down and gravity pulling from behind.

Maybe that was why he had ended up in a state of disbelief the first time she had shown it to him.

How did you not notice her? Levi was sure he wouldn’t have anyway. She was a stranger, one stranger in a crowd of people. Although she may have been one unchanging face in a crowd of thousands of changing faces, she was still a stranger to him. And strangers just tended to blend in more easily.

A valid point. Yet the regret and frustration were still fresh inside him despite it having been weeks since she first gave him access to that folder

She had first showed it to him the morning after that eventful night, after having dealt with a hungover Nanaba. It was only in the evening that day after Hange had escorted her three friends to the station did she sit next to him on the bed and scroll through the pictures herself with Levi right beside her. Naturally, she was still hesitant to show that side of her, she scrolled a bit too slow at times, while a bit too fast at other times.

For a while their roles were reversed and Levi found himself prodding Hange for more details. Eventually, she did share the link to the folder in exchange for links to his story and Levi was quick to comply. They were both exposed anyway, there was no need for any more secrets between them. Only one condition that had seemed a little too frivolous at first glance, yet somehow Levi understood it.

Hange requested that he go through the pictures when she wasn’t around. And soon after she requested it, Levi realized he preferred that too. Despite the fact that he did trust her not to judge whatever she may find on the folders, there still existed an uneasiness at baring one’s heart out to someone in words one couldn’t control anymore having written the stories out too long ago.

Consequently, he requested the same thing from her. Do not read it while I’m around. When he told her the stories, he at least had control of his tones, his diction and the packaging of the overall story. Watching her read them, he knew he would find himself doubting the words he had written while at the same time vacillating between decisions to correct his previous writings or let her read. The constant self consciousness that came with the second option had just been too stressful of a prospect. He decided himself, he would rather have full control of the exposition or none at all.

The decision to have no control and no input, to be absent when he bares his heart out was not easy to make. And he continued to feel the traces of that struggle in the way he so easily lost focus and ended up mindlessly scrolling through the folder. His mind had shifted to other things more specifically the prospect of whether or not Hange was doing the same thing then and there.

She was only a phone call away. He could ask. But it had just seemed idiotic. Of course she wouldn’t be checking on it, she had been cramming for an exam that morning in between preparing for her mid semester thesis presentation. She hadn’t even bothered to say any greeting but an ‘I’ll follow’ before he left for the therapist that morning.

He looked through the messages in the waiting room, and up at the time displayed on the upper right part of the screen.

9:43. She was still in the middle of her exam. She won’t be checking on it.

Levi looked at the ceiling above him, allowing the plain white view above him to ease him back to his reality. How long had he been staring at the phone? He closely felt for the aches and discomforts around his body. The dull soreness that made itself known as he stared up at the white ceiling above him only served as a reminder that he had been a little too exposed to quick scrolls and the unnatural glare of his phone for a potentially unhealthy amount of time.

It was his first physical therapy session and Hange had pointed out that he should be early just in case. Consequently, he had shown up at 8:30 for a session at ten.

Just in case you get lost. Just in case there is paperwork which still needs to be filled. Hange would have done the paperwork already. He had ended up clocking that little doubt and that need for a little prophylactic thinking to caution on their end. First times tended to make people a little more cautious. And more importantly, what else was there to do on a Saturday morning other than sleep in?

Either way, that long wait had left him with eyes a little too tired yet at the same time, he was bored out of his wits. He looked around the waiting room finding something else to entertain himself with.

I only have seventeen more minutes to kill. It shouldn’t be too hard.

The atmosphere of the waiting room was nothing like getting lost in nature or on the road. It was stark white, bleak and a little too rehearsed. In other words, it lacked dynamic and consequently. it was too boring to find any amusement in. Of course, they wouldn’t want to stress out any patients with anything too fancy or overwhelming. Yet, the only thing which Levi could have found worth giving more than a passing thought to were the people around him.

And only when Levi started focusing instead on the people and not on the off-white plastered walls of the waiting room, he somehow was able to distract himself from the dragging motions of time.

There was an old man with a knee brace. A middle aged man with an arm in a sling and a girl with a casted right leg. There were others who could have passed up for nothing more than a visitor, until they stood up and Levi noticed in their gait the slight hesitancy to put one foot in front of the other. A small detail which Levi probably wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t looking for it then.

As he preoccupied himself and reflected over the small details that could have told stories of the people around him, that natural reflection to one own’s self had him a little too focused, a little too fixated.

The door to the waiting room slammed behind him and the trance disappeared as quickly as it came and as silently as a bubble that had just been popped.

Levi found himself irritably following the sound of the footsteps that came right after the slam of the door. It reverberated across the quiet and tense room, so loudly that if Levi did look around him, he would have realized he wasn’t the only one who had been so abruptly disturbed by it.

“Aaaand... My rounds are over for today,” The man said looking not at all guilty for that rude awakening. He wouldn’t have known anyway, and as Levi looked towards the front where the man had settled by the nurse’s desk, he might just have been the only one in the room rudely awakened by that sound.

“Ah, Doctor Jaeger, That was quick,” the nurse commented a little too pleasantly for Levi’s taste.

“Not too busy of a morning.” The man said, or as Levi soon deduced, was Mr. Jaeger. He recognized that irritating voice and as he looked up at the man, taking in the gruff features, the blond hair and beard and the rounded glasses, he quickly grasped for the name.

Zeke Jaeger. He hadn’t even said the name out loud just yet, but somehow he tasted venom. Levi though had enough awareness of his surroundings and his own ability to quickly yet correctly guess names to have kept silent. Regardless, he continued to watch as Zeke lowered his voice, possibly whispering something about going out for a drink and some dinner with the nurse in front of him. He found himself silently judging that audacious invasion of privacy as Zeke looked over at whatever paper was on the teacher’s desk.

Ackerman?

If Levi had actually been a little more aware of his surroundings, he would have realized Zeke did not at all say the name loud enough for him to hear. It was the result of Levi having watched too closely as Zeke enunciated those syllables, having noticed as the nurse made eye contact with him and having heard peppers of conversations about a jumper and an injury.

“Oh… An Ackerman? Who does high jumps?.” Zeke confirmed it himself, as he once again spoke a few decibels louder, obviously with the intention of making himself heard.

It wasn’t anything new. The past few months, Levi started to realize that at the least, many people in the local scene were familiar with him.

“My brother’s best friend is an Ackerman too and she started jumping recently.”

“I don’t have any relatives who jump,” Levi answered, in an attempt to shoot that attempt of a friendly interaction down.

Zeke stared at him, looking surprised. “You sure? With how quickly she picked it up, I thought she should have been related to you.”

Levi kept silent, making no effort to look open at all to conversation. Somehow, Zeke didn’t seem to get the hint.

“She’s been sweeping their interhigh competitions since the start of autumn… With the pace at which she’s going, she might even replace you.”

Levi had gotten used to those types of comments, hearing them as whispers the few times he went out, seeing them on a few forums as people discussed his injuries. He shouldn’t have been at all bothered by the statement, having shifted his attention in life to things which weren’t jumping

The blond man in front of him had been crass and blunt and Levi was starting to feel the beginnings of a bad mood. The irritability only worsened even as Levi tuned out the blond doctor. His mind went elsewhere, as he instead decided to seethe silently at the insensitivity of that statement.

A Tale of Two Slaves

Eventually Levi did get a break from that one-sided conversation. But the countdown to that break was slow and painful. He only noticed as he struggled under the trappings of that long and excruciating wait how long it really took for minutes to count down on a digital clock.

An eternity could have passed before Levi was called from the waiting room. As soon as the clock struck ten, Levi could not help but be more than slightly annoyed that she had been late.

If you’re early then you’re on time. If you’re on time, then you’re late. Any other day, Levi would have acknowledged the hypocrisy of that statement since although he was always early to training, he was never that religious when it came to academics. Having just bounced back from such an excruciating exchange with Zeke though, everything had just been pissing him off more than necessary.

It was almost remarkable how he managed to nod in return at the woman who met him at the exit of the waiting room. But Levi soon realized, as the anger quickly dissipated from inside him, she seemed like an old friend more than a stranger and like for all people, as long as there was history between them, he could save a little more patience points.

The woman who helped him up and led him to the room ahead was shorter than him yet had a way of handling herself that made Levi guess that she was at the least, a university student.

Levi didn’t need to guess anything else. Somehow, her name, her personality and the familiarity had all been somewhere in his head.

She cocked her head to one side in greeting and spoke up. “You can call me---”

“Petra,” Levi said. Somehow, he just knew her name. He had been inclined to complete that statement, only to make more real the nagging feeling in his head as soon as he had noticed her enter the room.

Petra’s eyes widened in shock. “Yes, how did you know?”

“It’s on your nametag,” Levi answered almost automatically, thanking the heavens she was wearing a nametag.

“Yeah, my bad. I get a little absent minded at times,” Petra patted her own head and gave Levi a wry smile.

Petra was hospitable. And when Levi thought that exact statement, he couldn't help but think how the word 'hospitable' had fit her so well. It was in her presence. She had this special talent, of finding ways at least to add color to the stark white hospital walls and the overly sanitized tiled floors underneath.

It could have been the tone or it could have been her word choice as she rattled off what could have been an outline of his physical therapy regime. As Levi did figure out, it could possibly have been the unique enthusiasm she had towards the whole patient recovery process

"So you're my physical therapist?" Levi asked. He never really did pick up what she was saying. He had heard enough about leg raises, timings on when to remove casts and knee bends that he at least guessed she knew enough about them to be one.

Petra though was quick to shake her head. "No actually. After college, I have plans of taking the exam. Then after that, I’ll be a physical therapist. I’m just taking advantage of this internship to learn more about the occupation.”

“It suits you,” Levi said. He kept his own comments brief. At that point, he did start to lose a little bit of awareness of his surroundings. His thoughts flew slowly back to his dreams.

Those first two encounters in the hospital had been two missing puzzle pieces. The stories had been an incomplete puzzle set of words and pictures and as he put it all together in his head, he couldn’t help but note how vivid the memories actually were. It took all his strength not to react, not to bolt out then and there, and go back home, to fill in the gaps on his laptop.

He put two names on his phone.

Zeke Jaeger. Petra Ral. Levi could have sworn there was more to remember and to write about.

And who did Zeke mention then? The other Ackerman? The other jumper?

The dreams were faint, as faint as the image an incomplete puzzle would make. Some parts were clear and vivid like a scenery behind a newly cleaned window. Others were hazy, his mind having filled up those gaps with blurry images. But the other Ackerman was there, and she moved fast enough to justify those blurs in the scene. Back when they fought the war, she flew in those cables much faster than he and Hange had.

I am strong. I am stronger than all of you.

A Tale of Two Slaves

The pain that came with his first physical therapy session was excruciating and it only served to further aggravate the anguish and his eagerness to get home before the sceneries in his head faded into faint memories of something else.

He managed at least to keep himself in a good in-between, by repeating the mantra of that other Ackerman to himself as he went through each and every exercise.

They had started off slow, as slow as a walk in the park maybe, a few stretches here and there. While doing some of the stretches and the warm ups, he did wonder if he had attended the right therapy session. Some of the warm up exercises had nothing to do with his knee after all.

The actual challenge came when Petra and the physical therapist he had failed to get the name of, had him sit down. As soon as Petra unwrapped the brace and pulled it from underneath him, Levi felt the weight of his injury almost instantly. It didn’t help at all that he was looking right at it.

“We’re going to try bending it a bit. Maybe put some weight on it if we have some extra time” The physical therapist’s words felt ominous.

The surgical scars and the healed wounds on his knees from more than two months ago only served to rattle Levi a little more. He had avoided looking at the scars many times before during meetings with Erwin and Hange. The few times Hange did pull and prod at it, he had it stretched out on some pillow.

It was fragile. And it felt unnatural. There in front of him then, it was dangling from the exam table, gravity pulling it down from underneath. Levi swore that if he tried hard enough he probably could imagine it completely disconnecting from his body at that moment. And maybe if he did move it, attempt to stand up without the confines of a knee brace as support, it might just fall off.

“Hey, it happens to the best of us,” Petra said.

No, it doesn’t happen to the best of us. In the room at least, there were at least five other people struggling to do something so simple as to bend a knee. But Levi could have sworn, in the outside world he was surrounded by people who wouldn’t think twice about bending their knee.

“Just bend it as far as you feel comfortable.” Bullshit directions. Levi had to admit, he wasn’t comfortable having it bend at all. Just the sensation of having it dangle so easily in the air, at the mercy of gravity underneath was already unsettling.

Was it a challenge then? To get it to bend as far as he could?

The directions of the therapist were flawed and Levi naturally opted for a flawed response as well. The process of bending his knee had been slow and excruciating. Levi found himself closing his eyes a few times, finding some sort of a rhythm in the faint sounds of the heater in the room, the murmurs from all the way across the room.

Or maybe a mantra? From someone a little too familiar. I am strong. Stronger than all of you. Another Ackerman.

And the way Zeke had mentioned it was grating. Was it a challenge? A threat? Was it supposed to be pushing him to go further?

It could have been Zeke or it could have been that phantom Ackerman that had been a motivation at that moment. But something then had Levi’s heart racing, his mind going in circles.

I’m strong too. I’ll get out of this rut. He thought to himself, a weak yet still effective act of protest. It worked both as a catalyst for a burst of motivation and an odd source of rhythm. The flexibility of bending came in slow, steady but continued attempts. The rush of adrenaline came halfway through.

A few minutes later, he was sweating and maybe he had been shaking a bit before that. When Petra had mentioned the optimistic progress and the plan to at least attempt to put weight on his bum knee, Levi was quick to comply.

And maybe a little too reckless. They had least helped him next to a wall, a good place at least to lean his body in the off chance he did lose control.

“One foot forward then one back.” The therapist guided.

As he watched the therapist simulate that same position, Levi quickly followed suit. He remembered, he had put some weight on his leg. Back then the brace had kept his knee stable.

At that moment, the brace was off, and it would be his bum knee, exhausted from the prior exercises taking the full weight.

I’m strong. Levi repeated to himself. Bending wasn’t an issue before. He had been bending his knees, possibly before he even knew how to walk. It should have been nothing, The excitement of a while ago, the adrenaline rush, pushed him further. It had him so seamlessly balancing the weight from the back of his foot, to the foot in front.

And maybe his knee had been bending farther in, the weight of his body on it. Somewhere along the way he did start to feel the beginnings of a dull pain.

I’m strong. To keep going, Levi had to find an escape. Stronger than all of you. It was easy at least, to leave the movements to his procedural memory as he distracted himself with his own musings, willing himself not to forget what he had wished to write down.

Where did they all fit? The Beast Titan… The Survey Corps… The War… The Alliance?

“Levi, I’m sorry I’m late. The test ended later than I expected…” She came as a faint voice, but Levi was too far gone to hear it.

He had only felt her presence then, when the physical therapist called a break, when he had collapsed on the floor in exhaustion, his knee throbbing, his breaths coming in heaves. He only realized she had been watching for a good long while when he looked up to see the concern etched in her face as he caught her gaze.

“I’m fine…” He at least managed to say that much before he closed his eyes, allowing that few minutes of rest to gather his thoughts and steady his breaths.

“You shouldn’t have pushed yourself too hard. This is just your first session,” Hange said from right next to him.

He still had enough energy to process those words at least.

A Tale of Two Slaves

That night, Levi gripped his dream catcher a little tighter and pressed it close to the back of his phone as he scrolled through google links on the other Ackerman.

It hadn’t been hard to find her at all. Zeke’s tirade that morning had been more than a guide enough.

High school. Ackerman. High Jump. Those were the only three keywords he needed to figure out the whole name of that missing Ackerman. For a moment, he had expected to find his own articles, and had braced himself for the pain of sifting through old articles about himself in between looking at hers.

It turned out Mikasa Ackerman had been the talk of the high school high jumping scene for a while, and she had been the topic of at least 90% of the articles he was scrolling through on Google.

A few times they did allude to the other Ackerman. The older articles heralded her as a successor to the rookie Levi Ackerman, the newer ones that were dated past his injury called her the brand new Ackerman, a replacement.

A replacement to damaged goods. Levi had to add that part himself, an attempt to make a joke out of his shitty situation as he closed that last article. “Mikasa Ackerman,” Levi repeated those words so quietly to himself as he dropped the dreamcatcher haphazardly onto the table in front of him. It had been useless at that moment. Or maybe at the least it had been the reason he felt a little too frustrated at having looked through too many articles that evening.

He looked to Hange who was sitting on the dining table, looking deep in thought on something on her laptop. Mid semester presentations for her thesis proposal were coming up, along with a few new exams next week. She had been conscious enough to point that out at least and Levi happily gave her the space she needed.

The turmoil inside him at first seemed difficult to pacify. Just watching Hange so focused and deep in thought had helped somehow quell whatever unresolved tensions and feelings were settling in his stomach then.

Maybe if he talked to her, the tensions might just disappear altogether. Levi deemed it worth the effort at least. “Hange? You okay?” He asked

Hange’s head shot up and she looked straight at him almost instantly. “Sorry, how long were you calling me? I’ve just been a little too focused on my exam on Monday and the thesis presentations on Wednesday… I don’t think I’ve been in the right mind for a while…”

Levi saw it in the way she looked at him, she hadn’t been focusing on his eyes. It was as if she were still probably seeing whatever words or numbers she was studying. She had been like that the past week since the line up of the thesis presentations were released along with the midterms schedules for all the exams.

Their kiss, their one night in the bedroom almost forgotten. Levi was sure though there was something that had been bothering her, maybe something that extended beyond academics.

I can ask about that after finals. Levi thought to himself, pushing aside that bout of concern. He could start with a light question at least, which didn’t involve Hange too much. “Have you heard of Mikasa Ackerman?”

“Mikasa Ackerman? The high school high jumper?” Hange asked. “Maybe I have been following her too… Lately...”

“She’s really good apparently.”

“Her jumping positions reminded me a lot of yours, so she had been fun to watch. I always did want to ask… Is she related to you? I did some research but I don’t see much which connect you both other than a few articles comparing you as jumpers and maybe speculating a relationship.”

Levi shook his head. “I never heard of her… Until today… A doctor mentioned her back in the hospital before my therapy session.”

“She only started making waves last month when her school made it to the regional competitions. No one really follows the district and the interschools… And apparently she only started jumping recently, during summer and she only started breaking records during the regionals,” Hange said. “That is… According to what I’ve read up on her.”

“So, you have been following her?”

“I still watch videos during study breaks,” Hange admitted. “And she just broke a few records a few weeks ago, of course they’d show up in my feed.”

“And you didn’t feel the need to ask me about it before? About an Ackerman doing the same jumping positions I did? You didn’t want to talk about it?”

“I thought of asking you about it maybe after exams. Besides, do you want to talk about jumping? After everything that happened?”

Levi put his phone down beside him and looked up at the ceiling above him. Of course he wouldn’t have heard of her until then, he had purged himself of all track and field news since the injury. The tournament with Nanaba and Mike and the round of research on Mikasa have been two exceptions and the feelings after that had only reminded him why he had spent his days actively making the effort not to think of the life he used to have. "I told you I'm fine," he said. He half meant that part at least, the writing had helped.

"No you aren't.”

Levi found himself shocked by how certain Hange’s tone had been. And for a second, maybe he had been a little irritated at the audacity of it all. Who was she to assume how he felt? But the surprise and the irritability had him silent and listening. Hange always had a reason for her conclusions. She never made assumptions so easily, he had known her enough lifetimes to be sure of that.

“There's a certain sadness to knowing you can't do what you used to before.” Hange continued. “I think everyone feels it, even a bit."

"A certain... sadness?" Levi asked.

"Wait, that does sound vague... Lemme think of an example." Hange paused for a second, looking up in thought. "Like maybe if you imagine people who’ve been skating or people who've been playing instruments their whole childhood. When they stop training or practicing these things altogether, these people can feel themselves lose their motor skills or their thinking skills that got them jumping double axels or playing arpeggios or pulling off vibratos like they’re second nature. And when they come back to it years later, I’m sure everyone feels the sadness or some sort of a frustration, looking back at their old self and processing the realization that they can’t bring their body or their mind to do something as effortlessly as they had done it many years before. Processing how they ended up so weak, so stupid after abandoning their old passions for so long."

“What if I’m an exception?” Levi challenged, still a little annoyed at such an assumption and at such a long unsettling tirade.

Hange shook her head. “You’re not. For a while, I wanted to entertain the possibility that maybe you and I are exceptions, maybe we can easily jump from one passion to another. When I was watching you during therapy though. I saw the terror in your eyes, the frustration, the sadness. ‘Why isn’t my body moving the same way it used to?’ Maybe you don’t want to think back to jumping because you don’t want to see how quickly your body has forgotten the motions, how quickly it had lost the flexibility and the strength to carry you over the two meter bars…” Hange trailed off. She avoided his gaze and for a while she had been staring at the blank wall in front of her. For a second after that, she did look to him, and there was a glint of realization in that. Realization at what she had just implied possibly. "But you know what, you might just be an exception. Maybe I’m just projecting." Hange added a second later.

Levi was sure though from the quick change of tone that accompanied those last words that Hange probably didn't mean it. On top of that, having heard Hange's small lecture, Levi almost immediately realized he wasn't at all an exception.

Her voice had been light as she mentioned that last sentence. It could have been a thoughtless comment. Hange didn’t make too many thoughtless comments though. “Projecting?” Levi asked.

Hange let out a short light laugh “I’m talking too much, I should go back to work…” Her words seemed like a band-aid, a lazy coverup for whatever emotions had supported such a tirade in the first place.

Projecting? There was a reason behind that word use and Levi was more than eager to press on it.

Hange wasn’t listening anymore though. She was buried once again in whatever subject she had chosen to study for that night. She was in work mode again and she had gotten back to that mode as quickly as she had fallen out of it.

All questions can wait until after her exam week. Levi told himself. The word ‘projecting’ had stayed though. Hange’s words had left its mark and maybe it did have Levi reflecting on his own feelings, his own fear and his own frustrations at his regressing skills, the painful awareness of his body that was slowly forgetting the motions he had built over years. At the end of that tunnel of reflection, he did end up thinking back to that word.

Projecting. She had to be feeling something for herself to say something like that right?

Hange what are you projecting?

And that at least distracted Levi enough, enough for him to ignore the dull pain in his left knee, channel his focus elsewhere. The next few days, having been left alone in the apartment while Hange went about classes, lab work and library visits, Levi did manage to channel his energies to academics or to filling his gaps in his own stories: Levi Special Squad, the Beast Titan and something about some new rookies in the survey corps.

The pain in his knee never left though. It was nagging and annoying like a cavity. It was a pain Levi had assumed would disappear in time. His left knee had always been painful since the injury.

Yet, maybe his left knee had started to get a little frustrated at Levi’s negligence. Maybe it had started to get angry. It was a creature and Levi soon realized, it was a monster that demanded attention.

The night it demanded his attention so stubbornly, so angrily., it did it through sharp pains that coursed through him like bolts of electricity, it did it through a crushing sensation that left Levi almost unable to breathe.

And maybe it did have Levi hallucinating----Or could it have been dreaming--- of having saved one of his soldiers from being eaten by a titan.

A Tale of Two Slaves

“Connie!

“Captain!”

In his dreams, he had been too out of breath, or maybe a little too distracted to have reacted at the crushing pain that had spread through him like bolts of lightning. The dream was hazy that Levi doubted whether he had been completely rooted in anything or not.

He had been flying. He had been in pain. And he had been pushing past the pain, slicing at a titan in every direction. And when he had seen one of his soldiers unconscious, about to be eaten by a titan, he had jumped in between the titan and the soldier so instinctively, so desperately that the in-between had been a blur. He found himself in the midst of an excruciatingly painful ordeal. He gritted his teeth, biting back any attempt to scream. For god knows if he screamed, he might just run out of energy, he might just pass out.

When he woke up to the dark room though, he processed almost naturally the fact that the circumstances his reality had offered him were different. The view in the middle of the night, the faint sound of cars had been different. He wasn’t in a battle field and as if his body had been completely aware of that, it did push past his attempts to subdue any reaction.

Even before he realized it though, he had been screaming. Only when his throat burned and the sounds faded into a whimper, only when the tears started to run down his face, only when he closed his eyes and keeled over, a pathetic reaction to the bombardment of stimuli, did Levi realize the pain of having his leg almost bitten off by a titan was still there.

“Levi! I’m here. What’s going on? Are you okay?” Hange was right next to him. Beyond the pain, that was all he could process.

Hange hadn’t been there in the dream. God knows where Hange had been when he was flying from titan to titan. God knows where Hange had been when he found himself, jumping in between his fellow soldier and the titan that had lunged to eat him.

And god, it was painful. Even past the dream, even when he started to realize that Hange was right next to him at least in the dark room at 3am. The pain stayed and it was crushing his knee, it was leaving him unable to even take any sort of a decent breath, his own coping mechanism reduced to ragged breaths in between tears.

“Levi, breathe…”

How pathetic where his own breaths sounding for Hange to have to coach him like that?

“Oh god, Levi, we might have to get you to a hospital?”

How pathetic did he look for Hange to have to suggest a hospital visit? When she helped him up at least, when she slung her free arm over his shoulder and helped him to a sitting position, he did at least feel the unnatural weight on his left knee. What was going on?

Everything after that, came as a hazy dream. As hazy as the fight against the many unnatural looking titans. In that dream, Hange had been absent for some reason he could not yet comprehend. And Levi found himself trying to push it away, instead focusing on the Hange in front of him who had put a blanket over him, who had dialed a number on her phone and who was rattling off medical jargon to someone on the phone.

“Erwin… I…” Why would you need to call Erwin at three in the morning?

After that, Hange had helped put a hoodie over him, she had called one more number. And within a few minutes, Levi found himself lying down on a taxi, half conscious, only hanging on by a thread at the view of Hange under the dim light of the taxi and the city lights.

Somehow, he was terrified of falling asleep again. Hange hadn’t been there in the dream. And she might just disappear if he closed his eyes. As he unwillingly held on to the crushing pain in his knee and the view of Hange who sat next to him on the taxi, he was awake. Only barely, but barely was enough to not fall into another world of dreams, a world of wars and a state of complete chaos and confusion.

Eventually, he lost consciousness but it had been a gradual process.

He had lost some sense of time along the way, his body having been too focused on Hange. The darkness in the taxi had quickly shifted to the stark white of the hospital as he was helped onto a stretcher. Then along the way, he may have heard Erwin’s voice rattling off something about a swelling knee that was crushing his joints and a knee aspiration.

Then there was something about painkillers, an IV, a slight pain in his hand before everything enveloped him again. Maybe at his peripherals, Hange had been by his bedside.

It was a huge improvement at least from the messages of his own dreams. And maybe it was relief that finally had him letting go of his tight yet weak grip on reality. The crushing pain on his knee hadn’t been from a titan biting it off. Hange’s absence in the war had only been a dream.

The last few things he had processed then before completely letting the darkness enveloped him, may have been the sound of a laptop opening next to him, a few wires pattering on the floor below, the sound of the mouse and finally, the relaxing rhythmic clacking of the keyboard..

Hange was right next to him and she wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

A Tale of Two Slaves

“Sorry.” It came out as a croak but Levi was still hoping she heard it. Despite the haziness of the first few moments as he opened his eyes to the light streaming into the hospital room, despite the discomfort which came with a dry throat, it had been Levi’s first instinct to apologize.

Hange looked worse off than last night. He at least picked up enough images of her to know that there was a stark difference between the Hange of a few hours ago and the Hange then. The laptop hadn’t moved, it was still on the table next to his bedside, just like he had guessed it to be having fallen unconscious to the sound of the clacking of the keyboard.

Right then and there, Hange’s hair fell in chaotic waves, her glasses askew. And compared to last night where he saw panic, in front of him, he saw calm etched on her face, an ominous calm that somehow seemed even more alarming.

“Hange,” Levi said a little louder. The concern he felt only gave him the motivation to push past the discomfort of having just woken up. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you saying sorry? Hadn’t everything to this point been my fault?” Hange’s voice was soft, reflecting the ominous calm. It was cold, maybe even frozen. “"The reason the fluid built up in your knee was overexertion apparently. They’re guessing it was the physical therapy session last Saturday." Hange looked away. "I can't help but think... If I didn’t bring you to the tournament or talked to you about jumping , maybe you wouldn’t have pushed yourself too hard."

Levi had listened closely and he could have sworn he heard a crack in her voice. “But the fluid is gone right?” He asked. He noted that his knee was numb and to his relief, the pain had devolved into a dull ache, similar to the one he had been dealing with the past month. Not at all as alarming as it had been the night before.

Hange shrugged. “Maybe it’s the painkillers or maybe it’s the fact that they drained the wound. But don’t count your eggs before they even hatch. Your back to square one. All progress, out the window. Fuck this. Fuck all this. And you wouldn’t have been in this damn situation if he hadn’t fucked up way too many times. Was I pressuring you to jump? Was I pressuring you to recover quicker? Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned Elijah, or maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned MIkasa? Maybe I shouldn’t have let you go to that fucking meet in the first place.”

Levi kept quiet. Watching what had been Hange, leaving her laptop open on the table, watching her pace around the room, avoiding his gaze as she fell into her soft tirade had been unsettling. Even he couldn’t tell how it was making him feel. “It’s over. It happened. So many things had happened at once, it couldn’t have been anyone’s fault.”

“Fucking hell Levi, when I’m supposed to be writing about your injury, when I’m supposed to be writing every single bout of mini progress, writing out the mechanics of the injury… I can’t help but see… you were in no condition to jump. You were exhausted, your wounds from the first time we met were far from healed. But for fuck’s sake, if I had told you to wait it out a week, instead of letting you do jump after jump, maybe you’d be in class right now or maybe you’d be preparing for your next tournament… I don’t wanna write this anymore. I don’t wanna reduce whatever is going on inside you to a fucking case study.” Hange slammed her hand on her keyboard, and sat so violently on the chair, she had pushed it a few inches back.

“You need to graduate,” Levi said. What will Erwin think? What will your parents think?

“At this point, who cares? I’m miserable. I can’t fucking get anything written. I write a paragraph, I get self conscious and I delete it. I write out my interpretation of the numbers, of my findings, my gut wrenches then I delete it again."

“Take a break?” Levi weakly suggested.

Hange had laughed at that. The reaction came out of nowhere and Levi found himself speechless and maybe a little confused. Take a break? That had seemed like a natural suggestion. He had at least spent a good few seconds thinking in between listening to Hange’s rant to have come up with such a suggestion.

Either way, from the way Hange had laughed it off and slammed her laptop close, from the way she had sat back on the chair and looked at nothing in particular, the way she had avoided his gaze through the whole tirade and the fit that had followed, Levi was sure that had been the wrong thing to say.

A little ashamed at his own ability to have come up with something a little more comforting, Levi kept quiet. And for a second, he looked up at the own ceiling above him, and maybe distracted himself by appreciating the view from the wide hospital window, following the birds that were doing some sort of dance in the sky

For a moment, he did forget about Hange. She hadn’t helped at all to make herself any memorable, having kept silent.

The silence in that moment had been too peaceful, had been too otherworldly that it was only natural that it would be broken by even the softest and steadiest things.

Like an off-rhythm knock on the door.

“Hange?”

Levi recognized the voice even before his head popped up from behind the slightly opened door. “Moblit?”

Levi looked towards Hange. The latter sat unmoving on her seat, her head bowed down, her face unreadable. Even as Moblit opened the door a little wider and approached her, she hadn’t moved at all or even looked back to greet him. Levi bent over to get a better look at her and saw panic. A type of panic he had never seen before. Panic, confusion, maybe a little urgency. “Hange? Moblit’s here.” Levi managed to say. He kept his voice gentle, a natural gesture having to process Hange’s face at that moment.

“Hey Hange. Erwin told me you’d be here. The others were worried about you--- I was worried about you. You’re supposed to be presenting now."

Hange stayed silent. From what Levi could see, her face was frozen. Was that panic? Shock?

Moblit continued. "I explained your situation… They said they could push it back until this afternoon...You think you can make it?" Moblit paused as he got closer to her, as if waiting for her to say something. He had his phone out,as if ready to call the panelists at any moment.

"Hange. Go to the presentation," Levi said. It was difficult to bend over and make eye contact with her with her head bent down, her eyes downcast. He kept his words firm, hoping at least that was enough to reach her.

“I can’t…” She managed to say. She left her mouth half open, as if she had expected to say something after. She looked back up at Levi, then bit her lip. Levi could have sworn that was the first time he had seen her in such a loss of words yet at the same time, struggling to get something out.

“Hange, go. I’ll be fine…”

“You don’t understand, I can’t… present.”

“Hey, I’ll help you set up. We have until tonight.” Moblit scooched beside her on the table and typed out her password.

“No, you don’t get it, I have nothing…”

“Hey, I’ll help you get a powerpoint. We can revise your manuscript together. That’s what friends are for,” Moblit pressed as he pushed the laptop towards Hange. “Come on, type out your password.”

“No Moblit, there’s nothing in here. It’s over. I’ll try again next year.”

“It’s too early to give up Hange, remember how fast you got Elijah’s data processed? It helped me a lot.”

“You don’t get it do you?” Hange pulled the laptop towards her and angrily typed what could have been the password. The laptop booted to life and from where he sat, Levi made out the characteristic log in tone of the computer. “There’s nothing in the document. Just the introduction. No preliminary results. No observations. Nothing.”

Levi couldn’t see the screen from where he sat. But he did see the flashes of a changing screen through Moblit’s eyes. He could guess the results from the way Moblit’s jaw dropped and the way Hange just avoided both their gazes, keeping her eyes downcast.

Levi maneuvered himself to the side of the bed, getting Hange’s laptop at arm’s reach. His leg protested the action but that was the last thing on his mind. God forbid, what Moblit was seeing at that moment could have been Levi’s first assumption.

Hange… Didn’t you spend hours in the library getting everything written out?

Didn’t you spend whole days outside working in the lab?

Didn’t I fall asleep every night to the angry clacking of the keyboard?

Didn’t I wake up in the middle of the night to you in the dining room writing out your thesis?

She had been writing at least. The introduction, the review of related literature were all filled out. The methodology had been filled out. It was a far cry though from what she had made in high school. Each part had been furnished with links to sources, half completed sentences and maybe a few question marks here and there.

The observations and the results and discussions though, were all blank.

“Hange… You….” What were you doing? This can’t be it. Levi didn’t even know if he had said that last part out loud. His brain was on overdrive trying to prove his own quick conclusion wrong. He navigated through old versions of the document. His hands were quick, maybe they had been moving on their own and the PC couldn’t catch up.

A few times, Levi found himself tapping impatiently on the keyboard as the laptop loaded each version.

More links, more half completed sentences, and a very empty observations and results section. “We can get something written right? Help make a powerpoint? If we work together, we could get something presentable."

Moblit shook his head. He bent down next to Hange and spoke softly. “Does Erwin know about this?”

“I told him to just leave it to me… But I can’t. I can’t write this anymore.” Hange shook her head as she looked up at Moblit then up at him. There was some sort of a smile of resignation plastered on her face, reminiscent of the laugh of only a few moments ago.

That was what the laugh had meant when he had suggested the break.

Of course, she would laugh. There was no time for breaks. There was no time for work either. Hange was royally fucked.

Moblit left the room, neither Levi nor Hange asked for what. For a few more minutes, maybe for even an hour longer while Hange had been in her catatonic state, Levi did continue to look through her drafts, see what kind of sense he could make of the half complete sentences and the links to journals in her document with his limited knowledge on human anatomy.

His background had him very much unready to complete a thesis proposal on a technical subject he studied nothing about, let alone in the span of a few hours. Having been pumped with painkillers and sleeping drought only an hour before, his brain was in no state either to bullshit what he could. Despite all his desperate attempts to make sense of it, to write out something coherent, he found himself converting it back to the state he and Moblit had found it in.

Levi closed the laptop slowly and pushed it towards Hange. He was surprised and a little relieved to find that she did pull her weight, setting the laptop back on the table next to his bed.

Hange smiled at Levi and spoke up. “I appreciate you trying to do all this Levi but… I’ve given up already. I’m not getting this thesis done.”

It was a pained smile. A smile of resignation. A smile that was so clearly telling him that he had definitely wasted those last few minutes pouring through the versions of her document for nothing.

Levi took a deep breath and spoke up. “Then what’s your plan now?”

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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