#i stumbled onto the matching wings at last month's art party actually

[leafofkudzu]

Screenshot ask game 4 :)

Consider this Verdant Brink abyss-level propaganda, featuring my oldest mordrem, Kaerkis:

[chrismdthings]

girls/girls/boys

pairing: chris dixon x reader warning(s): alcohol, mentions of smut, angst  notes: this is basically an AU btw & also took me two months to write, so here it finally is / listen to girls/girls/boys - panic! at the disco while reading / 13,117 words 

Wringing out the white cloth, you felt the water drip between your fingers and into the bucket at your feet. A hefty sigh left your lips, and you continued to wipe down the bar like any normal Wednesday night. 

The music that ranged from rap to rock music and blasted through the speakers, vibrating the glasses on the beer stein rack on the bar. Across the room there was a large group of people surrounding a telly, watching a replay of a football match and yelling profanities at the screen. The aroma was a mixture of beers and fruity cocktails, sweat, and belching. However, for a rundown bar on the west coast of Jersey, that was normal. And for you, now working toward the promotion job after your third year of wiping down bars and mopping floors at 3 AM, that was normal too. You didn’t know anything different, and even though it took a few months to adjust to, if there were any changes in customers or drinks, it would throw the entire job off. And there weren’t many other bars in Jersey to be fair.

Throwing the cloth back into the bucket, you carried the bucket back into the back room of the bar and sat it where it once was. After quickly washing your hands and drying them on your apron, you were forced to get back out on the floor. Even for a weekday, the bars were typically the place-to-be for those looking for a little relaxation within the work-week. 

Your co-worker also called in late today with a sickness. The same co-worker who typically kept you level-headed when it came to a dozen orders in two minutes, and who cracked jokes about the nicknames you gave people, was not there to keep you calm when it came to serving. So, to say the least, you were struggling just a bit.

Spotting an older man hopping onto a barstool, you knew him as Dan. That’s what your co-worker called him, anyways. His name wasn’t Dan, or probably anything close, but that was the name she gave him when she was desperate to get drinks out and forgot names, and it stuck ever since. He wasn’t the typical old geezer who came in and had way too many drinks during the weekday and hit on anything with a pulse, it was clear by his way of dress that the bar was actually a pit-stop on his way home from work. He always wore fresh and pressed suits, a Rolex, and even his wedding band. However, the silver band wrapped around his ring finger never stopped him from hitting on you, and apparently, neither did your words of rejection. 

“Hello,” you smiled, approaching him as you dried off your hands on the towel of your apron. “What can I get you?” 

You looked at him as he rapped his fingers across the polished wooden bar. His eyes grazed over the selection of taps, bottles, and drinks behind you, before looking directly at you. You immediately felt slightly more uncomfortable under his gaze, but you shrugged it off. That was something you were forced to get used to. 

“Can I get an English ale?” That was his typical order. 

“Black Sheep?” You asked and watched him nod. 

Turning around, you walked over to the stein rack and grabbed a clean glass. After wiping the inside of it, you walked over to the tap and pulled the lever. From both experience and watching your co-workers during the first week, you had learned to properly pour a pint. Pour at an angle, without touching the nozzle, and gradually straightening it out for the froth.

The first time you poured a pint was for yourself, and it was awful. It was mostly froth, and the glass had nearly cracked from smacking it against the nozzle when trying to straighten it out. You still believed that if your boss knew about that you would have been fired on the spot. Or maybe even now.

Focusing on the ale and levels, you heard a voice from behind you. “You fill out those tight jeans, angel.” Looking forward, as if you were on The Office, you rolled your eyes and lifted the nozzle. You couldn’t count the times you had heard some remarks about your skirt, your jeans, or your shirt, all while running the bar. 

It wasn’t your first rodeo. 

You dealt with that through school, at parties, anywhere you went, so the bar was no different. On your first day of the job, your manager did make it clear that if anyone came on to you while working, or simply in the bar, that you were to come to him first, and he would escort the person out. However, you could handle yourself, and a few remarks didn’t bother you, so not once did you report anything. Most times you would just pretend not to hear, or let your co-worker take care of the person and tend to someone else instead. 

But, as the bar policy and anyone who had been a bartender said, just be nice. So, you forced a smile, pretending not to hear the man, and turned around to hand him the beer. You slid the glass across the wood and he slid two twenties your way. On instinct, you looked from the money up to him and he shot you a grin.

“Get yourself a beer later. My treat.” He smirked and you grabbed the money, tucking it in your apron, and thanked him before walking off. Within five minutes he would want another beer, and then another, and then probably stumble out to a cab and head home to his wife and children. You didn’t want to be the cause of a near divorce. But you never knew what people were going through. 

Turning towards the bar, you looked at the watch on your wrist, and saw that it was just a little past midnight. That was your call time. Your shift ended at midnight on weeknights, because the manager would take over the final hour for last calls. The manager, Kian, didn’t have to do, but he always saw how tired and worn out you are after a full day of work, so he took over for you every time. You were thankful for the bar; it paid well and helped you pay off student loans and keep up the rent on your flat, and the staff was like family. 

A bar was definitely not your first choice of work. You were an assistant at a school for a few months, an accountant for a law firm, worked as a cashier at the local supermarket, worked in retail at a locally owned clothing shop, and did your fair share of other things around the small Jersey town. Apparently an art degree was not the best idea for a place with no jobs to offer in art or related to the subject. The bar was your last resort, but as stated earlier, it was your best choice.

Out the corner of your eye, you watched the black curtain next to the bar pull open, and Kian stepped out from behind. He was wearing all black and a shiny silver watch on his wrist, like usual, and a large grin. He looked at you and nodded. “I got you. Go ahead and take off.” 

You nodded graciously. “Thank you so much.” You said quietly, walking away from the bar and over to him. After giving him a firm slap on the shoulder, you turned to him. “And the guy sitting at the bar will ask for another Black Sheep in about, well, three minutes and twenty-three seconds. And then another one. So good luck.” 

Kian’s eyes flickered up to the man with salt-and-pepper hair, downing one of his first drinks from the mug. He chuckled. “Thanks for the heads up.” 

“No problem. Have a good night!”

“You too! Get some rest!” 

You laughed at the fact that Kian noticed how disoriented you were with a few hours of sleep. To be fair, it probably wasn’t hard to notice with the constant yawning and rubbing your eyes in between serving. “Thanks.” You said before shaking your head and pushing through the curtain to the lounge.

A sense of relief flooded your body as you made your way through the employee lounge and to the lockers. You knew within five minutes you would be out of the bar, sitting down, and at peace with the world once again. And a shower and a jumper sounded heavenly at the moment.

Opening up the locker, you reached down into your pocket of your apron and pulled out a wad of cash. Throughout the way you had been tipped largely by some customers, and given money from weird men to get yourself something to drink but instead you just saved it. It was a Wednesday, the last thing you wanted to do was drink. However, the bar would be the ultimate place. But it was a Wednesday, and you had an early morning to run errands before work once again, so you took the latter of staying sober.

You stuffed the cash into your purse, and tossed the apron inside of your locker before slamming it shut. The seat of your car was calling your name and the thought of taking off your heels was getting better by the second. 

Making sure to grab your phone and other needs, you threw your purse onto your shoulder, and made your way out of the bar. Throwing a peace out sign to Kian and saying goodbye to the regulars playing pool across the room, you left the bar without a trace. Around the corner of the building, you jumped into your parked car, and settled down in the drivers seat. And it felt like heaven. 

You had just stood, walked, jogged, and nearly ran in heels for eight hours, even though it felt like days. Typically you always threw on trainers and went out the door, but that day you felt a bit better about your appearance with perfect winged eyeliner, so you wanted to go all out. The end was a bad result, but at least you looked good.

Tossing your purse and phone into the passenger seat, you fished the keys out of your leather jacket and jammed them into the ignition and started the car. Your flat complex wasn’t too far from the bar, probably within walking distance, but you were simply too lazy to walk blocks to work on hot days, so you drove instead. The car didn’t even have time to fully cool down before you parked in the garage of the complex, and headed inside.

You buzzed up to the flat and you were let in, and then you were able to walk in the building. Following a usual routine, you checked the mailbox just inside of the flat complex. The flat complex was home to most students of a nearby university, or just couples, but for an early Wednesday morning, it was mostly vacant. 

Turning the lock to the mailbox, you peered inside to see multiple envelopes and even a package inside. You pulled out the mail, shifting them to a comfortable holding position in your arms before shutting the box and locking it back. Walking over to the lift, you pushed the button and looked down at the mail- bills, bills, enclosed information, and more bills. A hefty sigh left your lips, but the ding of the lift arriving on the bottom floor grabbed your attention. 

A few seconds later, the lift carried you to the third floor where your flat was located. You stepped off the empty lift and onto your floor, the carpet sinking beneath your feet with each step as you fished out your keys once again. Unlocking the door with some-what ease, you held the door open with your foot and slid inside with some grace, nearly dropping everything in your hands, but you made it with a second to spare and placed the mail and your purse on the counter.

Letting the door slam closed behind you, you heard loud music carrying down the hallway from the bedroom. The flat smelled like fresh berries and everything was seemingly spotless, unlike how it was that morning. You were grateful, because there was no way you were going to clean after a full day of work. Your body wouldn’t physically let you.

The only thing you found possible was to take a shower and fall into bed, and that was your only plans besides eating.

“Hello?” A voice called out from down the hallway. Throwing your purse on the counter near the mail, you turned around to see a body swiftly moving through the hallway and into the kitchen where you stood. 

You recognized the familiar tall frame and the white Nirvana shirt that hung off of her shoulders like a cape. Your girlfriend, Lennon. 

A sigh of relief left your lips and you smiled at her, and she replied with one as well. You took a second to admire the color contrast of the white tee against her dark skin, then her kinky curls that framed her face, and her glasses that sat high upon her nose. She looked tired, but happy. 

“I didn’t know what time you would be back.” She said, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You smiled and pecked her lips before she moved past you and to the microwave. “But I came back from work, cleaned, and went out to pick up your favorite.” You watched as Lennon opened the microwave and pulled out a takeout container before sitting it down and opening it to reveal a galore of Chinese food. 

“God bless you, Len.” You whispered, leaning up to kiss her on the cheek in thank you before sliding over to the refrigerator. She picked up the container and sat it at the rounded kitchen table, and after grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, you sat down with her at the table. “Seriously, thank you so much. I’m starving.” 

“I figured you would be, and I didn’t really have time to fix dinner. So I tried my best.” 

You looked up from your food to her and shook your head. “Your best is all I could ask for right now.” 

Lennon smiled slightly and watched as you peeled open the plastic wrapper and pulled out a fork, and then continued to dive into the takeout container of food. She had walked in and spent nearly twenty minutes hand-picking out everything from the buffet that she knew you liked from memory. So it brought her great happiness to see you so happy with what she chose.

Propping her chin in her palm, Lennon looked at you and watched as you shoveled the food into your mouth one bite after the other. She could remember the first date when you admitted that you hated eating in front of people, especially people that you liked. How far you had come since then.

“How was work?”

“Work was.. work, I guess.” You shrugged. “It was relatively slow, like usual on weekdays. I regret wearing these heels though.” 

“I told you that you would hate yourself after five minutes.” 

“Trust me, I was contemplating taking them off as soon as I got to the parking garage.” You admitted and Lennon laughed, shifting her arms to mess with her nails. You watched her nervously pick at the chipped baby blue polish, and then looked up at her, watching as she focused on her hands. With her subtle movements and little talking compared to usual, it was obvious to you that something was bothering her. However, due to experience, you knew that Lennon hated to talk about her problems and preferred to get her mind off of things instead, so you went with the latter. “So how was work today?”

“It was alright. Like I suspected, the kids were like.. assholes.” 

“They are pre-teens, Len, they are assholes.”

Lennon laughed, and you watched the way her nose scrunched. “True,” she said. “They were like us though, eager to learn, but not about the things they are forced to. And music is definitely not a subject many like.” 

“But you are great with the kids.” You said, trying to give your girlfriend the confidence boost that she needed. “Remember when I stopped in that one day? You had eveyone singing along to Journey and clapping to the beat of different songs. You make it fun compared to the old music classes we used to take in school.” Lennon shrugged. “And considering our school, if one day a teacher came in and told us she was going to play music and turn off the lights and we could sleep, I would love school and the teacher just as much. So you know those kids like you.” 

“Yeah, but they can be assholes. They are loud and obnoxious and.. ugh.” 

Dropping your fork to the container, you reached over and grabbed Lennon’s right hand. You watched her eyes look at where your hands met, and then look up at you. 

“You’re great, you know that, all of the other teachers now that as well. That’s why they’re so jealous.” Lennon raised a brow and you continued. “I overheard the conversations in the hallway that day. Not only is your skirt cute and kids like you more, “but her door decorating is on another level, Deborah.”” You said, mocking the conversation between two teachers that you overheard while in the hallway the day you visited Lennon. You couldn’t deny it, it actually made you laugh.

Lennon laughed, and snorted, which caused the both of you to laugh even harder. After a moment she leaned over the wooden coffee table and pressed her lips against yours, and you smiled into the kiss. You two had been together for two years, but the feeling of her kissing you always felt like the first time, and never failed to make your heart race.

Tilting your head back slightly, Lennon leaned back and kissed the tip of your nose before standing up from her chair. You watched her closely as she took a step behind you in the chair, placed both hands on your shoulders and massaged them tenderly for just a second. 

“You need to finish eating, and I need to finish packing.” She said abruptly, now dropping the mood from the light and flirty atmosphere. “If you need me, I’ll be in the bedroom.” She said before pecking your cheek and then disappearing around the corner and down the hallway.

Leaning forward, you pressed your elbows against the table and looked down at the remaining food in the container. You avoided the thought of Lennon packing away down the hallway and grabbed your fork once again and beginning to eat.

After finishing your food and tossing away the container and your empty drink, you cleaned up the kitchen, pushed in your chair, and made your way down the hallway to the bedroom. 

The light from the bedroom crept onto the hardwood floors of the flat, and music could be heard from miles away as it vibrated the walls. 

Sometimes you're better off alone But if you change your mind you know where I am Yeah, if you change your mind you know where to find me

Pressing your hand against the cool surface of the door, you pushed it open to reveal Lennon inside. She was sitting on the floor next to the bed, folding and rolling shirts and dresses before placing them inside her suitcase. Already inside the suitcase were shorts, other dresses, skirts, and numerous heels and pumps. 

For the past two weeks you both avoided all conversations about Lennon’s upcoming trip to New York. Lennon found out that she was selected to teach a class to university students in New York nearly six months ago, and even though as each day either drug or flew by, you avoided thinking about the inevitable. It was going to happen eventually, and now was the time. Her flight left in less than eight hours.

She wouldn’t be gone for a while, just a week and a couple of days, but both of you dealt with the separation anxiety. Separation anxiety lead to numerous phone calls, texts, and even Skype sessions throughout one day. It was bad, but it was just the way you two were; worriers. Once, when you flew to Germany for family, Lennon sent you a dozen texts on the flight, and you two talked for hours upon you landing. It wasn’t possesive, or borderline psychotic, it was just how things were.

And you hated being alone in the flat without Lennon. 

The flat shared the same scent as her laundry detergent, and her presence simply lifted spirits. You hated waking up without the sound of the shower running and her humming. You hated eating dinner at the kitchen table alone and without her echoing laughter. You hated sleeping alone without her warmth. There was a lot that lacked when Lennon Hart wasn’t home.

Yet you couldn’t form a coherent sentence of words about how proud you are of her. Ever since you met Lennon you knew that she was hard-working, and she never gave up on anything, and received everything good that she deserved. She got her degree and got a job at a nearby school, teaching music to both the younger and secondary kids, all while also staying in contact with her university to teach classes. Her connections with her alumni university gave her dozens of opportunities to travel abroad and teach to other kids of different cultures that had different outlooks on music. It was something that Lennon loved to do, she loved kids, music, and teaching, and it made her happy. So it made you happy to see her living the life she always wanted. 

Even though sometimes it meant that she was away from you. 

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you crossed the bedroom and over to your side of the bed. You slid off your rings and necklace and watch, placing them in a small jewelry box before sliding off your heels and work clothes. Tossing everything into a hamper, you walked into the bathroom and started up the shower before jumping in.

A fruity scent filled the shower and bathroom was you peeled back the shower curtain and grabbed your towel. You felt more relaxed from the hot water that loosened your muscles and made you feel clean and washed away of all things toxic. That was far from the truth, but it was nice to think. 

Drying off and ruffling the towel through your hair, you flipped off the light and walked into the bathroom, passing by Lennon as she took a break from packing to check her phone. She glanced up at you and smiled at the sight of a more relaxed and peaceful you compared to what you looked like just twenty minutes ago. And at her feet, your and Lennon’s child- a three month Corgi named Peanut, rested near the suitcase. 

“Feel better?” She asked and you sighed in relief before nodding. 

“Absolutely.” You said, wrapping your hair in the towel and walking over to the dresser. In the ebony drawer, you pulled out a loose fitting white tee and slid it on, before grabbing some flimsy panties and putting them on. “I feel so clean, and washed away from that bar. My feet and legs feel better from those heels. I feel like a new person.” You laughed.

“Hot showers can change a person’s life.” Lennon joked, but you agreed with her. She watched as you walked back into the bathroom and ran the towel through your hair one last time before tossing it into the bin, and then taking one long look at yourself in the mirror.

You ran your finger tips over the purple moons under your eyes, to the freckles that lined your cheeks before letting your hand fall all at once and turn to brush your teeth. Lennon felt her heart drop at your subtle movements as you remained quiet. 

Nights like these broke her heart as much as they did yours. She hated leaving as much as you hated waking up to cold beds. However Lennon always kept a countdown of days until she was home again in her mind, constantly ticking down the hours to minutes.

“Do you need any help packing?” Lennon was snapped back into reality from your voice. She looked up at you, you were leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom, brushing your teeth casually. 

Lennon cleared her throat. “If you don’t mind. If I get a few more things packed, I might be able to sleep before I leave.” 

You nodded and walked back into the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste and rinse before making your way back into the bedroom. You helped Lennon by picking and choosing the outfits she wasn’t too sure of, and also deciding on what shoes to go with what. Lennon was the type to pack everything she owned, for “just in case” reasons, so she was glad you were there to talk some sense into her about taking three different heels and jean shorts. 

Eventually Lennon managed to tuck away every pair of leggings and tees she picked out, and zipped up her suitcase. As she took a quick shower before it got too late, you cleaned up and a bit and prepared for bed yourself. It had been a long day, and another long day approached in just a few short hours.

“I wish I could stay here, with you.” Lennon said abruptly as she massaged lotion into her skin, standing by her side of the bed as you slid under the sheets and duvet. She watched you carefully turn your head to look up at her. 

“I wish you could too.” You admitted, sliding down under the bed. Lennon followed behind, turning off the lights and sliding in next to you under the covers. You felt her legs graze against yours, and then her pull you into her. You rested your head on her shoulder. “We live such different lives.” You spoke up again.

“It was so much easier when we were both university students. It was just us, and a little bit of homework that kept us apart, but not for too long.” Lennon laughed lightly before shifting to rest her cheek against your head. You could feel her fresh and soft skin press against yours. “But now it’s everything keeping us apart. Whether it is my constant traveling and being away from you, your late work hours with my early mornings, family situations.. it’s on both ends. But we’re making it work, you know.” 

You stared up at the caked ceiling above you and nodded swiftly. Even though most nights you felt like giving up, like packing up your things and letting Lennon live a better life with another, more successful woman, you knew that she was trying for you. Lennon was deperately trying to make the relationship work, to keep it strong, and that kept you going too.

Two hours later you shifted in the bed, and wrapped your arms around Lennon’s curvy frame. Six hours later you felt her press a soft kiss to your forehead, but not enough to stir you awake. Nearly nine hours later, you finally got out of bed. You ran your palm against the cool surface next to you before deciding that you could no longer lie by yourself anymore. 

You rolled out of bed and went through your typical morning routine before throwing on an outfit. Regardless of the weather outside, you had the same go-to outfit for days when you didn’t feel like putting more than two pieces of clothing together. 

It was a Friday, which meant you still had one full work night before the weekend. Since you took weekdays at the bar, Kian gave you the weekends off. You were more than thankful for that, especially since Saturday nights at a bar just off of a university campus was not your scene. You knew what it was like to be one of those university students walking into a bar for a drink, and you hated those vivid flashbacks of shots of Jack running down your throat and running your tongue along the rim of plastic containers for jello shots. 

To be a university student again.

Throwing on a pair of ripped skinny jeans and a white tee, you walked into the kitchen to grab your things. You had so many errands to run before it was time to clock in for work. There were bills to be paid, banks to be visited to work out accounts, and groceries to be picked up in just a few hours. 

Walking into the kitchen, you were in the midst of grabbing your purse and keys when you saw a slip of paper resting on the kitchen table. You crossed the floors, trainers squeaking against the floors, and picked up the note and smiled at the familiar penmanship.

Left an hour early to get breakfast and check into my flight. Didn’t want to wake you since I know you were tired. I’ll call you when I land at JFK. 

I love you. Lennon x

Licking your lips, you laughed at the ditzy and sloppy handwriting before tucking the note into your purse and carrying on out of the flat. 

In the span of three hours after leaving the flat complex, you had managed to get many things done. You paid your part of the bills, shut down a credit card due to your lack of self-control, and picked up some groceries for yourself for the next week. You made a promise to Lennon not to live off of takeout for the entire time she was gone, so you picked up some healthy shit that wouldn’t take too long to prepare.

You stopped for lunch after going to the grocery, even though it was past lunch time, and decided to stop at your favorite and locally owned restaurant. You were sitting outside on the patio, sipping on your lemonade when you heard a distinct ringtone carry out from your purse.

Reaching down, you fished out your phone and looked at the screen. You came face to face, or face-to-screen technically, with an old photo of you and your family. It was your mum calling. 

Taking a deep breath, you looked back up at the street, contemplating whether or not to answer. Your mum hadn’t called in nearly a month, and you hadn’t called her either. A part of you wanted to ignore it, but the other part of you knew it was your mum after all, so you were forced to press the green button.

Clearing your throat, you brought the device to your ear and spoke up. “Hello?”

“Yes! Hello, darling!” You heard your mother’s voice carry through the speaker. “It’s been so long since we have talked. How have you been?”

“Living, really.” 

“Still working at the bar?”

“Yup,” 

“Hmm,” 

... and that’s the reason you didn’t call her anymore. Every conversation somehow turned into a critique of your life and life choices. As if she really cared about what you decided to do. She said she always wanted the best for you and would support you regardless of what you did, yet you were alone at university after she talked about her disapproval of your major and friends, and didn’t even bother checking in on you when you first moved into your flat.

There was an awkward silence over the phone until your mother decided to continue. “Well, there was a reason why I called.” 

Of course, I didn’t think you called just to see how I was. You thought to yourself. 

“What is it?” You asked, sipping on your drink again. 

“There is going to be a family dinner on Saturday night here at our house.” She said matter-of-factly. “Your brothers are coming and bringing their wives and girlfriends, and I want you to bring your boyfriend and finally give us the honor of meeting him.” 

Oh, yes.

The smart, handsome, successful boyfriend whom was actually a girl. 

You felt your heart drop into your stomach and you froze. The waiter came with your food, but you didn’t even squeak out a thank you in time. You stared at the street in front of you and thought of all the times you could have avoided this situation.

Two years ago, you could have shrugged it off when asked if you were dating anybody. A year ago you could have told your strict and conservative family that you actually had a girlfriend instead. All of those were bad ideas. 

However you didn’t take any of those chances. And now you’re here. Stuck in this conversation with no real way out.

You cleared your throat and finally looked down at the plate in front of you. Thinking of the best lie to pull off. “Oh, Saturday? I don’t know if he’ll be able to make it, with work and stuff.” 

“Isn’t he a school teacher, darling? He has Saturday off, right?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

“We’ve been waiting years to meet him, darling. Don’t keep us away from him any longer. Your father, and all of your brothers and their girlfriends and wives, and I want to finally meet the man you will be marrying.” 

There were so many things wrong with that sentence, but you froze. 

You had been able to weasel your way out of everything before. But this.. family dinners? They were impossible to get out of.

Licking your lips, you messed with them of your shirt. 

“Are you still there?”

“Yeah, mum, I’m still here.” 

“Well I assume you will be able to make it, right?” She asked and you rolled your eyes. She didn’t even give you a second to respond before she spoke up again. “It’s Saturday evening, at seven. Be there.” 

“O-okay.” You strangled out.

You could hear the pep in your mother’s voice and the smile on her lips through her next few words. “Okay. I can’t wait to see you. It’s been too long. Just don’t be late, please, and dress nice!” 

And like usual, she hung up right after.

As the call ended, you tossed the phone onto the table and stared at it until the screen turned black. You felt all of the tension and weight of the world fall onto your shoulders in that exact second. 

Your parents knew you worked at a bar to make ends meet, and they knew you were in a relationship, and they knew you had a roommate whom was a girl. However, they didn’t know that your roommate was also your girlfriend.

Your family was completely unaware of your bisexuality and you preferred to keep it that way for the sake of their and your reputation in the city. And because your family was strictly conservative and “old-fashioned.” 

Growing up in Saint Brélade to a wealthy family, one whose family history dates back centuries in Jersey, it was safe to say that everyone in the parish knew your family. Your mother and father were known for being heavily involved in the community and owning one of the biggest local companies in the parish, and your brothers were known for their time playing football and then moving on to follow in the footsteps of your parents, unlike you. Everyone knew everything about your family- names, birthdays, history and involvement, everything. 

So the precious, straight-A, athletic, and lovely only-daughter of the family working at a bar was enough to slightly damage their reputation. Now imagine the family reputation if that same daughter came out to have a girlfriend. Your family’s company would lose every single bit of their business in the close-minded parish because no one would want their name in the ground-breaking story of “oh god, the girl who no longer even lives in this parish, who has nothing to do with any of our lives, has a girlfriend. But we can’t have our name involved in supporting the family who had nothing to do with her bisexuality in the first place.” 

But now, you had to come up with a plan. Lennon was going to be away for two weeks, so there was no “fuck what they think” and bring her to dinner anyways. You were going to have to come up with something and something quick. 

“Thank you doll.” An older woman said with a warm smile as you slid the wine glass across the table to her. You smiled back as a reply and she slid a twenty and a ten across the polished wood and to you. “Thank you for the wonderful service tonight.” 

You wrapped your fingers around the bills and tucked them into the front pocket of your apron. “It’s my pleasure. You two have a great night.” Shooting a wink towards her and her friend sitting across from her in the booth. Hearing her say a quiet thank you, you nodded and walked away and back to the bar where two people awaited their orders. 

Behind the bar, your co-worker Gaia, was pushing through a slight sickness and pouring taps and shuffling out bottles to awaiting customers. Sliding behind the bar, you leaned against the wood and watched Gaia serve the last person whom ordered.

“Feeling any better?” You asked her, watching as she took the payment for the drink and shuffle it into the cash register just next to her. She shrugged her shoulders and cleared her throat.

“Better than yesterday, that’s for sure.” Gaia said taking a breather from the constant running. “It’s been unusually busy tonight.” 

“It’s a Friday night.” You said, licking your lips and taking the moment to look around the busy bar. Across the room people were playing pool, a couple stood next to the juke box, others lingered on the floor near the stage, and a few groups were in the booths near the far corner of the room. “University students, random people with 9 to 5′s looking for a bit of relaxing before the weekend, it’s all normal.” 

Gaia nodded before stifling a heavy cough. A second later the bell above the door pierced your ears followed by the sound of a couple dozen feet across the floor. You sighed and without turning around you knew it was probably a big group.

“Go to the back and rest for a minute.” You said taking note of Gaia’s red face and watery eyes. “I’ll get this group.” 

You should have took note of the way Gaia raised a brow at you as well. “You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” You assured her, and she paused before nodding and then turning to walk towards the lounge. You watched her disappear behind the black curtain, and then you turned around to face the group that had just walked into the bar.

Spinning around on the heel of your sneaker, you turned around to see a group of young guys walk into the bar. A particular group of guys who were regulars in the bar on weekends. You watched as they walked in, four of the five walking directly over to the empty pool table, but one diverted and came straight to the bar where you were standing.

You recognized the eyes first, and then the smug grin attached to his lips. He was wearing a navy blue tee and a pair of jeans. You watched him walk across the bar floor and hop on the barstool in front of you.

“Working again tonight?” He asked slyly. 

The temptation to roll your eyes was real. “Like every other Friday.” You said with a monotone. “What drink this time, Chris?”

“Just the usual.” 

You nodded and Chris watched you gently tap the bar with your hands before turning away to the taps. As you grabbed a glass from the rack, Chris’ eyes followed your every move and took in the sight of you in front of him. You wore a pair of light-washed, ripped jeans that revealed a lot of skin, and your basic black tee was cut low to leave just enough to the imagination. He took advantage of the tap taking so long to look at your prominent curves that were visible from the tight tee.

The memory of his hands gripping onto your hips, nearly leaving bruises, and leaving small bite marks on your shoulders replayed over and over again in his mind. 

Chris cleared his throat when your eyes met his after turning around, clearly catching him in the act of checking you out. Again.

“Here ya go.” You slid the glass across the counter, and Chris responded by sliding the payment back.

“Thank you, doll.” 

Ignoring his remark, you just nodded, refusing to look back at his eyes, and took the money before leaving him to place it in the register. 

That, or he, was the reason why Gaia asked if you were sure about taking the groups’ order. She knew about your history with Chris, or “the lifeguard”, or that one drunken night nearly one year ago. That was the reason she insisted. And if you would have known it was him and his buddies, you would have let Gaia take it.

Every night since then that Chris had come into the bar, you had managed to avoid him by taking other orders, but this night you weren’t so lucky. 

Every time you looked at him, you just had the memory of that regretful night in your mind. It was one night- two weeks after you and Lennon had a large fight and decided it would be best to split up almost a year ago. 

It all began with Chris coming into the bar a few nights after the fight with Lennon. You didn’t work that night, but you had nothing to do and came into the bar for a couple of drinks, and Chris sat next to you. You recognized him from previous nights but never had the pleasure of speaking to him until then. You two laughed and talked about everything under the sun for what felt like hours while playing a game of pool and even throwing darts. And you, mostly tipsy and a little bit drunk, thought he looked good in the low blue lighting, and that was all it took. He kissed you, you kissed him, and the next thing you knew you two were shuffling out into the early morning night and into a cab with directions to your flat. 

It all came in short spurts of memory- Chris gripping your hips as he pressed you against the wall, your nails raking down his bare back as he placed you on the coffee table and rolled his hips to meet yours, him gripping your hair and every inch of skin as he took you from behind, and the way your legs quaked before finally collapsing onto the floor of your living room. It felt so right at that moment, but the perspective had changed when the sun came up the next morning. 

It was only two weeks after that night when you and Lennon decided to speak again. You came forth about the hook-up, and Lennon came forward about her own one-night-stand as well that were the result of loneliness. All was settled, and you two agreed to spend more time apart before getting back together, which happened to be one month later. 

Even though Lennon had forgiven you, and you forgiven her, that night still remained in the back of your mind. But Chris was nothing special. He was just a random guy who was a regular in the bar, worked as a lifeguard, and had a lot of commitment issues. 

You never considered him as anything more than a friend, and barely even that. From his looks you considered him to be a regular fuckboy that you had your fair share of experience with in the past, but little did you know, that wasn’t the truth at all.

One fault that most people had on the earth was to judge a book by its cover. They praise the saying, spilling the truth about how they should live by it, but in reality no one really does.

At first glance, anyone would call Chris Dixon a Grade-A asshole. If you saw him on his job you would see the trunks that hung low on his hips as he walked along the edge of the pool, you would see the smoldering look as he took off his sunglasses, and the smirk that would drop panties in a heartbeat. And if you saw him at the bar, you would see the sly grin and the way he took his bottom lip between his teeth when he chatted to girls, the expensive clothes, and you would hear the stories of his exotic lad holidays and how many times he has met and played with phenomenal footballers. 

But like most people, there was something deeper than just his looks. No one, no girls, cared to look past his good looks and his fault for getting too in over his head. They didn’t see the guy who moved away from home with a girl he thought he loved to eventually split apart and leave him heartbroken, and the guy who had commitment issues from that same split. They didn’t see the guy who worked two jobs throughout the week to get by and make rent on his flat and car. 

It was the smirk and stories that got girls, but it didn’t keep them around.

Chris genuinely liked you. He found you intriguing, funny, alluring, and natural. He didn’t have to slide in with a pick-up line to get your attention, or pull out one of his stories from Ibiza. He was able to laugh with you, mostly at you, but with you, and have interesting conversations instead of the usual small-talk. He liked your laugh, especially when you leaned into him after throwing a dart and missing the target completely while cackling. He liked your eyes, especially when they lit up as you two talked about what you were passionate about. And he liked your voice; the way it was quiet and seductive at the beginning of the night and ended up high-pitched and loud as you two were singing an old Bee Gees song from the karaoke machine. 

You were the type of person that Chris wanted to be around. And he would be lying if he said he never pictured you two together after that night. 

However, he knew about Lennon. He saw the framed pictures on the walls, the lockscreen of your phone that were either graced with her face or you two. And a little bit of stalking on Instagram helped as well. Even though there was no real photos of your face on her account, or her face on yours, Chris noticed the scenery and recognized your combat boots, and the bracelet that dangled on your right wrist in the background of the photos. 

But the last thing that Chris wanted was for you to hate or think different of him because of that one night. He noticed the way you ignored him, the cold shoulder, and little eye contact. He didn’t want you to think of him as some fuckboy or asshole who just wanted a hook-up with no meaning, even though a part of him knew that was what you wanted instead.

He wanted to get closer to you, and a part of him would go to any distance to do so, regardless of your “girlfriend” situation. All he had to have was a chance. 

After a moment, Chris watched you wring out a wash cloth and started to clean off the mostly vacant bar. He took another sip of his beer and cleared his throat. 

“So,” Chris started off, earning your attention. He watched your eyes flicker up from the mahogany wood to him. “What are you doing with your weekend, doll?”

“Nothing much.” You shrugged, knowing damn well it was a lie.

Chris raised a brow and looked at you closely. He noticed the purple moons under your eyes and lack of makeup that you usually wore to work. You were exhausted and Chris noticed that based upon you hasty movements and sighs, that was something was on your mind.

“No, really.” Chris stressed. “I’m curious. What are you doing with your weekend?”

Your brow creased and you looked at him. He was staring at you intently, as if expecting you to spill your entire weekend to him in detail from the moment you wake up til you go to sleep. You just shook your head, but there was a weight on your shoulders.

“I have dinner with my family tomorrow.” You explained to him, tossing the wash cloth back into the bucket at your feet under the bar. 

“Is Lennon around?”

You shook your head. It wasn’t a shock that Chris knew about her- he came forward once about stalking her Instagram after seeing all of her photos in your flat. You even made him promise not to speak a word of your relationship with anyone. You knew how quickly things got around.

“No, she is on a work project for a few days in New York.” You said with a firm nod, bracing the edge of the bar with your hands. “It’s just not going to be a good weekend.” 

“You get lonely without her?”

“Yeah, but-” you shook your head, a tsk leaving your lips. “That’s not the reason why.” 

“Then why so?”

You looked at Chris across the polished bar. He had both his hands resting at the bottom of the pint, but he was staring at you with a concerned look on his face. 

There was a heavy weight on your shoulders from everything that happened recently. Lennon leaving for two weeks and you having to fend for yourself, and now the entire family dinner thing with your “boyfriend.” You wanted to scream. You wanted to yell and kick something to let out everything that was on your shoulders.

“The family dinner.” You muttered. “We have one every few months. And this time, my brothers and their girlfriends and wives will be there. My mum is truly a lunatic, Chris.” 

Chris raised a brow. “There is a problem with a family dinner?”

“I have to bring my boyfriend.” 

“Oh-” Chris nodded once, and looked at the pint in front of him. He now knew the problem you were having. “But- you don’t have a boyfriend.” 

You rolled your eyes. “You hit the nail right on the head, buddy.”

Chris grinned at your sarcastic nature and leaned forward against the bar. “So what are you gonna do tomorrow?”

“I don’t know, honestly. I-” you took a deep breath and shook your head again. “I had a plan to come out to them eventually, but not now. But I can’t show up to this dinner with no one. Mum was insane and said she wanted to meet-” 

There was that chance he had been waiting for. It was on the tip of his tongue, and all he had to do was say it;

“I’ll go with you.” 

“What?”

You tilted your head at him. Your mind couldn’t comprehend everything he had just said. 

Chris smirked, running his fingers along the bottom of his beer. 

“I said I will go with you... to your family’s dinner, of course.” He explained further as you remained silent. “I understand that you don’t want to come out to your family now and would rather be a time where you are more comfortable. And since your mum is insane and wanted you to be there with your boyfriend, I will gladly be by your side for an evening. Just think of it as a friend helping out another friend.”

“Chris, I cannot ask you to come to my insane and pretentious family’s dinner and fake being my boyfriend.” 

“You didn’t ask. I simply said I would go.” He smirked when eyeing you carefully and watched you take your bottom lip between your teeth. “So what do you say? You be my fake girlfriend for your family and that’s it for the night. Let’s prove it to your mum that you are in fact in a relationship and not one-hundred-percent faking it.” 

“But I sort of am..” 

“That’s besides the point. What do you say?”

You were skeptical at first. Why out of everyone in the world, would you choose a guy you had a one-night stand with, to be your boyfriend for a night at a family dinner? There was no logic behind it at all. 

But you did it anyway, because you were in desperate need of proving something to your family. You didn’t know what you were quite proving; there was just something. And Chris may be the key to it. 

Your eyes met Chris’ and you nodded. “You have yourself a deal, Dixon.” 

At six o’clock, Chris sent you a text saying that he was waiting outside of your flat. You didn’t even have to give him directions for him to find your place.

You looked in the full length mirror at yourself; admiring the way the soft material of the black dress hugged your curves and came up around your neck to flow down to the mid-thigh region. After trying it on, you paired it with a pair of nude heels that made your legs look longer than usual. You tried to look your best for the dinner, mostly for your mum, and went out of your way to throw on some more-than-usual makeup with dark eyes and fiery red lips. 

Your mother better be proud of you and the effort you had went through to look good for a night that would strictly consist of sitting around a dinner table. 

Taking a deep breath, you ran your palms over the material of your dress before shutting off the light to the bathroom and walking out. Saying a quick goodbye to the dog, and making sure to grab your things, you were gone in seconds. 

You took the lift to the lobby and walked out the front doors, stopping on the pavement and looking around to see Chris standing next to a matte black BMW. How he was able to afford that on a lifeguard salary, you weren’t exactly sure. How your mum was supposed to believe Chris, a “teacher”, can afford that on a Jersey teachers salary was beyond you. However he made it work.

Placing your keys into the clutch you were holding, your heels clicked against the pavement as you approached Chris. He was leaning against the drivers side door, scrolling on his phone, so you took the chance to glance over his outfit for the evening; pressed black slacks and a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. And of course, a pair of dark black sunglasses rested on his face. You had to admit, he did look good. 

Hopefully good enough to pass as your boyfriend too.

The sound of your heels clicking got Chris’ attention. He glanced up from his phone and grinned, sliding the device into his pocket before kicking himself off the door and meeting you halfway.

He admired your shape in the dress, your toned legs, and the dark lipstick that contrasted beautifully with your porcelain complexion.

“You look stunning, doll.” Chris complimented you.

You kept a tight-lipped smile and nodded, walking around to the passenger side of the hallway. When Chris moved to open the door for you, you shook your head and he got the memo to stay in his lane. “Thank you.” You said before opening the door and climbing inside.

Once you and Chris were in his car and buckled up, Chris pulled the car into the street and carried on. There was a slight hum of music coming from the radio as you put your family’s home address into his phone GPS and let him do all of the driving.

Saint Brélade was only a thirteen minute drive from the west end of Jersey where you lived, so it didn’t leave much time for you to brief Chris on both what to expect from your family and what you expect from him.

“Okay, so first off,” you took a deep breath. “My family is very posh and pretentious. They act like the damn royal family, so be prepared for that. Oh, and my brother’s girlfriends and wives are just the same, if not worse. Just don’t even look at them or they will think you are some weirdo.” 

You watched as Chris followed the route on his phone and pull off a ramp and into the parish. You drove that exact way many times- it was exactly a ten minute drive to your parent’s home from there. 

“You are playing my boyfriend tonight, Chris. Which means you graduated the same year as I did, and you are a successful music teacher in a school nearby. You are also from Saint Brélade and played football growing up and your parents are both doctors.” 

“Did you make that entire thing up to your parents?”

You snorted. “No,” you said. “That’s Lennon’s life.. just in the form of a man who is my boyfriend, or right now, you.” 

Chris grinned and licked his lips. “Alright, fair enough.” 

“And there is no funny business tonight, Dixon.” You stressed, turning your body to face him. You stared at his side profile to emphasize on your words. “I mean none. No kissing, no subtle touches under the table, nothing. I still have a girlfriend.” 

Chris raised a brow and glanced at you for a moment before returning his eyes to the road. “Do you want to make it obvious that we aren’t together?” He asked. “If we do nothing, your parents are even going to be more suspicious. From my experience with family dinner’s, there at least has to be a little physical contact between a couple.” 

“How many family dinner’s have you been to with a girl?” 

“More than I can count.” He said flipping on his signal when the car rolled to a stop. Chris looked at you and grinned, and you knew his eyes were sparkling behind his sunglasses. “But I can definitely say this is my first time faking a relationship.” 

You stifled a laugh. “One for the books then, huh?” 

“Definitely.” 

As the conversation drifted off, your eyes stayed on the windshield, admiring the drive along the southern coast, and you listened into the radio. It was a soft melody, almost soothing, and you smiled, rocking your head back and forth. And when the second verse song hit, you knew who it was.

You're a mystery I have travelled the world And there's no other girl like you No one, what's your history?  Do you have a tendency to lead some people on? 'Cause I heard you do, mmh

When you heard Chris humming along to the pre-chorus, you raised a brow and turned to him. “I never took you as an Ed Sheeran type of guy.” 

Chris chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. “Not many people do.” He admitted. “I do love him, you know. The man is a genius. I mean, have you listened to the new album?”

“It came out last night..”

“And I already know the words to every song.” 

You shook your head and laughed as you turned away. “You’re such a nerd, oh my God.” 

Chris glanced at you for a second, taking his eyes off the road in a small straight away, and looked at you. He admired your profile; the deep dimples in your cheeks when you smiled, and your long lashes that were hidden behind a pair of plastic-framed glasses. You were glowing in the passenger seat of his car, and he didn’t want to take his eyes off of you for the rest of his life. 

Behind the cocky attitude and the front that he put on while around you, Chris had genuine feelings for you. Those feelings went past the one-night stand and into something deeper that he couldn’t quite explain. 

Never did he think he would be caught up in the way you got him. 

A few minutes later, Chris’ car rolled into the drive of your family’s home. He looked up at the long drive and swallowed hard- the house was so big it was almost intimidating. It was a neoclassical home with classic beauty- and as Chris and you walked inside, he had the chance to admire its entirety; tall and thick columns, golden trim, elaborate doorways, and large windows; it clearly exuded wealth.

And the kitchen was no different from the rest of the house- a large ebony dining table with blooming flowers as a centerpiece, tall and traditional chairs, and a chandelier with sparkling diamonds and jewels. Chris felt as if he really stepped into Buckingham Palace. 

The comparison between the house you grew up in to the flat that you currently resided in was quite hilarious. You could hit dozens of your flats into just the dining room and kitchen of the house. 

Standing in the doorway of the kitchen next to Chris, you looked around to see every member of your family, including the future members that would be your sister in-laws soon enough. It was clear that you and Chris had shown up late, even though it was a few minutes before seven. 

Locking eyes with your mum across the room, you watched her smirk and stand up from the table, her chair scooting against the hardwood flooring. She walked over, but immediately went straight to Chris.

“You must be the lovely boyfriend we have heard so much about.” She said reaching out and grabbing Chris by the arms before pulling him into a hug. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.” 

Chris chuckled at the greeting and gently hugged your mum. “It’s lovely to finally meet you, Miss (y/l/n).” He said before leaning back and looking at her. He immediately saw the features that you took after her- the high cheekbones and long lashes that hid almond eyes behind glasses. “I felt like this day would never come.” 

“Me either, son, me either.” She nodded before turning and looking at you. There was no hug, just a glance-over at your outfit, and a pressed smile. She simply nodded at you before motioning towards the table with only two empty chairs. “Please, guys, take a seat. Dinner is just about to begin.” 

Walking across the dining room, your heels clicked against the floor and brought the room to a halting silence. The sound of clinking glass and golden metal bracelets dangling on the wrists of the females in the room all came to a stop when you and Chris settled down in your seats. It turned into intense and judgmental stares and tension in the air. 

Clearing your throat, Chris helped scoot your chair in before taking the last seat at the table, completing the pieces of the puzzle. 

To your surprise, the dinner went well.

“Well” as in you and Chris pulled off the couple status in front of your family, you didn’t punch one of your brothers rude girlfriends, and the dinner was quite nice. 

Chris blew you away by his ability to act as your boyfriend for the night. When asked a question, he replied as if he had practiced answering it for weeks. By the end of the night, your parents were firm believers that Chris was in fact a school teacher and part-time lifeguard, he had to throw that it in there, and your partner of many years. 

There was almost one moment during dinner that your tongue slipped, and luckily Chris was there to save your ass.

Your father asked you a question about where you and Chris had met, and in the midst of the sentence you said “I met her” in which Chris quickly talked over you to grab the attention back to him before shuffling out an awkward answer. You glanced around the table a second later and all the eyes were on Chris instead of you, and you felt a sudden rush of relief. You hadn’t fucked up yet. 

After saving your ass, Chris and your father chuckled as Chris told a random (lie) story to derail the topic. You stared down at your food, mentally cursing at yourself for almost letting the forbidden secret slip before Chris reached over and placed a hand on your thigh. 

Your first instinct was to jerk your leg away, but you knew that would cause even more tension if it went noticed, so you remained still. Chris’ hand lingered on your thigh in almost a calming-fashion, patting your leg, but you pictured Lennon’s hand instead to make it a little more bearable. A moment later Chris retracted his hand, shooting you a quick smile when you looked up at him before engaging it yet another conversation with your father.

Once everyone had finished eating and the glasses of wine were empty, you and Chris were ready to leave. It was getting late anyways, and you didn’t want to stay for any longer than you possibly could.

Chris helped you scoot back from the table, and as you stood, you felt his hand place gently on your lower back. You turned to grab your clutch off the table, facing Chris, and with your eyes diverted from him, you didn’t see him lean in to press a swift kiss against your forehead.

Chris watched as your cold eyes snapped to him immediately, and he felt his blood run cold. You wanted to yell at him, snap so much it ached you. However, you could not cause a scene in the dining room of your parents place with the fine China with your “boyfriend.” Instead you huffed before snatching the clutch off the table and turning around, saying a quick goodbye to your mother and father before you left. Chris was the one to say a more sincere goodbye, stopping to thank everyone for inviting him, before he rushed out to follow behind you.

Walking out of the dining room, Chris gazed down both hallways before seeing you storming out of the house. Your heels clacked against the marble flooring before the butler opened the front door for you, saying a goodbye, and you were outside.

He knew he fucked up. 

He knew you wanted to keep the physical stuff to a low, but the entire night Chris was worried that the plan wouldn’t suffice without more than what he was giving. He watched as your brothers and girlfriends, and wives, were subtly touching under the table or hugging, stealing quick kisses before turning back to the conversations. At that point, the most you and Chris had done was fake a laugh and glance at each other. 

Chris wanted to make it believable, and he made sure your parents were looking before he swooped in to kiss your forehead. He had done worse in the past to you, but that was besides the point. He agreed earlier in the night to keep it all the touching and physical aspects to a minimum, and he knew the kiss had crossed that line. 

Running a hand over his face, Chris huffed and thanked the butler before following you outside. You had already made it to his car, sliding in the passenger seat before slamming the door behind you. He prepared himself for hell, but knew he deserved it, so he climbed in the drivers seat and shut the door behind him.

The car was filled with silence, but the tension in the air was thick. Starting the engine, Chris heard the light buzz from the radio, and he swiftly reached out to turn it off, too scared at the simple things that might make you snap.

Chris rubbed his clammy palms on his pressed trousers, licking his lips as he leaned back in the seat. Hell, he was too scared to even look at you. He saw the look on your face as you stormed out of the dining room, and he also knew the hell that you could unleash.

You two sat in the drive of your parents house in the running car for minutes until Chris finally put it in drive and peeled out of the drive-way. 

As you sat in the passenger seat of the car, your blood was boiling. You swore steam was coming out of your ears like the final scene in the Scooby Doo movie. Fingers clutched around your phone, the silence in the car buzzed in your ears, and your body remained rigid in the seat.

The only thing you wanted was to get home, go home to Lennon and kiss her before taking a shower and watching your favorite film with her. However, things weren’t as they seem or as you wanted them. Instead you were going to return to an empty and cold flat and fall into bed before you could get your heels off. 

Chris’ tongue swiped across his lips, and as he felt the tension on his shoulders, he finally decided to say something.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry,” you chuckled darkly, shaking your head as your eyes searched the window outside for a source of light in the darkness. “You’re sorry, Chris? Are you really, or are you sorry because I’m pissed at you?”

Chris wrapped his fingers around the steering wheel, clutching it tighter. 

“I told you I didn’t want you to kiss me, or even touch me for gods sake. And what did you do? You managed to do both.” 

“It was a forehead kiss, love.” 

“Just a forehead kiss?” You leaned forward in the seat, pressing your arm to the seat and turning towards him. Chris was too scared to turn and look at you, so he kept his eyes on the road. “To you, that was much more than a forehead kiss, wasn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you even ask to come where with me? Why did you even consider being my fake boyfriend for the night before I even thought of that?” You asked, waiting in silence before speaking up again. “Chris, answer me.” 

“Because I wanted to help you.” He said timidly, fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter, and his knuckles turning white. Chris was beginning to fidget in his seat as he felt he was being interrogated by you. 

You snorted, looking at him, knowing that he thought you didn’t catch on. “Was it to really help me, or was it to get closer to me? Was this an act of kindness or did you just act as my friend to try and get with me again?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t act fucking stupid with me, Chris.” You spat. “It’s been how long since we hooked up? And look at how long you have been vying for my attention once you found out Lennon and I were back together. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your attempts to talk to me at the bar, hell, do you think Gaia didn’t tell me about you asking her about me?”

Chris remained silent, keeping his eyes on the road as he neared the town you two ventured from for the day.

“It was one night, Chris, and I’m sorry if you thought it would lead to more. You and I both agreed at the end of the night that it was a one-time thing, that we were going to split ways after and never speak of it again.” You shook your head, feeling the anger subside a little more as you talked, but most still remained. “I kept my promise, you didn’t!”

“Did you really expect me to just move on after that night?” Chris slammed on the breaks and threw the car into park as he pulled outside of your flat complex. “Don’t tell me that you didn’t feel anything after that night.” 

Chris turned to you, looking at you in the dim lighting of the car. He expected you to at least say something, he searched your eyes for answer, but saw nothing in return. You had no feelings, nothing attached to that night besides your memory. 

“Figures,” he snorted, leaning his elbow against the window. 

You raised a brow at him. “Don’t act like you are the fucking victim here, Christopher.” You narrowed your eyes a second later. 

“I was trying to help you! I did nothing wrong!”

“You didn’t do anything!? You manipulated me into thinking you were wanting to help me save my ass in front of my family, but in reality you used tonight as part of your fucked up plan to get closer to me.” You barked at him, your voice overpowering him in the small car. “I have a girlfriend Chris, and it’s not my problem that you can’t accept that.” 

You didn’t even take one last glance at Chris before you grabbed your clutch and pushed the car door open. Stepping out into the empty street, you slammed the door behind out before carrying on to the entrance of your flat complex. 

As you neared the door to your complex lobby, you heard the sound of Chris’ car peeling away from the sidewalk. A sigh of relief left your lips before you carried into the flat complex.

The lift ride was quick, zipping you up to your floor. You fished the keys out of your clutch before shoving the key in the lock and unlocking the door before stepping inside. After tossing everything down on the counter, you flipped on the light.

Instead of hearing music carry through the flat from the bedroom, or seeing Lennon dance in the kitchen as she fixed dinner, you were met with a cold and harsh reality. The flat was cold and silent, with the exception of your dogs’ paws tapping against the tiled floor as he walked over when you stepped inside.

Looking down, you spotted the Corgi at your feet. He was looking up at you, tilting his head to the side. Cooing, you bent down before sitting on the floor and letting the dog curl into your lap and rest his head on you thigh.

“Hey there, boy.” You said scratching the space between his ears, and then his stomach. “It’s just me and you for the night.” 

When you were home alone, you would be woken up by the buzzing alarm from your phone on your nightstand. It would pull you from a deep slumber, and also pull a loud groan from your lips as you refused to leave the warmth of your body bed. 

The morning after the dinner, your alarm woke you up at eleven thirty. You changed it from nine to eleven before you went to bed, feeling like you would need a couple more hours of slumber after the horrid night, but you still ended putting it on snooze a few times before you fully woke up.

Reaching out and turning off the alarm, you yawned, but not yet opening your eyes. You only turned when you felt the mattress shift next to you. Reaching behind you, you expected to be met with the short fur of Peanut nestling behind your knees, but instead, you met with a warm hand when a giggle followed behind.

Swiftly shifting on to your back, you opened your eyes and saw a blurry figure in front of you. You rubbed your eyes before a second, blinking a couple of times before looking forward and to Lennon sitting on her knees next to you, wearing a bright smile on her lips. 

You didn’t even say a word before launching yourself out of the bed, wrapping your arms around Lennon, and sending her to the mattress. She laughed, holding onto you as you landed on top of her.

“Lennon,” you leaned your head back and she pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips before kissing you gently. 

“Good morning to you too, Sleeping Beauty.” She laughed, her hands leaving your torso to smooth down your hair. “Or should I say, good afternoon.” Lennon poked fun at your sleeping schedule. 

You stared down at her, feeling like she was a mirage and would disappear within a second. Your eyes searched hers, and she smiled at you. It had only been two days, but it felt unreal to see her in front of you again.

“Lennon, what are you doing here?” 

“I made a few calls in New York.” She said, rubbing her pads of her thumbs along your cheekbones. “I’m usually so excited to go on these trips, but these past couple of times, I have felt nothing but dread as I left you, and Peanut, behind.” She laughed, referencing the dog who jumped on the bed with you two. “Yes, I love traveling and teaching kids, but I love you, and I love being with you more.” 

You tilted your head, staring down at her as you laid between her legs, using your arms for leverage. “What do you mean?” 

“I talked to my alma mater, and they understood that I wanted to keep my feet planted in Jersey, especially working another job. They even gave me contacts with other schools in Jersey, where I could do the same job, just not abroad.” 

“You didn’t have to give up that for me, or for Peanut, whoever you love more.” 

“I know, but I wanted to.” She pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I want to be with you, love, forever.” 

You smiled and kissed her, a hand pressed on the back of her head and holding her in place as you did so. When you fell asleep, you had those swarming memories of the night with Chris in your mind, now he wasn’t even a lingering thought.

“I love you.” You whispered against her lips. Lennon siled, and before she could speak, Peanut wiggled his way under your arm and licked at her face. You laughed and watched her rub his ears as he gave her exciting kisses of his own. You beamed a smile at her, “welcome home, love.”