#i was sewing in the hotel room not going to lie

[sariahsue]

Let Me Count the Ways

Chapter Six - The Stakeout

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [Ch 5]

The next time Chat Noir saw Ladybug was two days later. She had left him an urgent message that they needed to change the location of their joint patrol starting point from the Arc de Triomphe to the Hôtel Ampère. He was a cat. He was flexible. And it didn't matter where they started, really.

The hotel stuck out above the surrounding buildings, and the roof was flat with a good view. When he arrived, he found Ladybug with a pair of binoculars and a blanket.

"Very important!" she said when he landed next to her. "There have been a lot of reports of white and black butterflies seen in this area. We need to do a stakeout to find one. Then we follow it to its source."

"Okay," he said, sitting down on her left. Ladybug was stretched out on her stomach on the blanket - black with green lining, he noted. (It had to be just a coincidence, right?) There was enough room for both of them, though he thought it was more professional to sit off to the side. "It's spring. There are a lot of butterflies right now. Are we sure they're akumas?"

"Absolutely." She peered through the binoculars. It would be disorienting trying to follow something so small through lenses that big. And they were so high up that trying to see without magnification probably wouldn't work. Plus, the angle was terrible. They were in the middle of the roof. Ladybug wouldn't be able to see the ground, which meant she wasn't really trying. She was looking at the clouds above the horizon. The sun was setting behind her, and the sky in the distance was going dark. This was a terrible time for a stakeout on top of everything else.

This raised a few flags for him. Ladybug's plans were usually more methodical and better, well, planned.

"Are you going to lie down or what?" she asked. "This is a stakeout. We have to keep a low profile."

So Chat Noir laid down next to Ladybug on the blanket, and kept a respectable, gentlemanly distance, which meant that he was on the very edge while she was in the middle.

"See anything?" she asked. She handed him the binoculars, but he didn't take them.

"No."

"Hm. We might have to wait a while, then. Do you mind?" She set the binoculars down and propped herself up on her elbows. She fiddled with the green fringe of the blanket.

"I don't mind."

"I made this myself. Do you like it?"

"Oh, uh." His eyes followed her fingers as they stroked the green. Each corner was adorned with a gold tassel, like a bell. "It's very nice."

"Thanks. I love the color scheme. It works well with a lot of designs."

Chat Noir took a shaky breath under the onslaught of knowledge. Ladybug could sew. She liked to design things. She possibly designed a blanket with his color scheme on purpose. She thought about designing and used him as inspiration? She made a lot of things based on his colors? She potentially liked his costume? And by extension, she liked how his costume looked on him and she thought he was attractive?

Given the circumstances, all he could reply was, "That's neat." And given the circumstances, he was proud he was able to get out that much. Even though he knew he sounded like an idiot.

Within a few minutes, Chat Noir realized that the blanket, though beautiful and well crafted and possibly recently made with him in mind, had a few drawbacks. It was thin, and the roof was metal. It wasn't the most comfortable to rest his elbows on.

"I'm cold," Ladybug announced cheerfully. "I guess I should have picked thicker material. Oh well!"

"Do you want to find somewhere else?" he asked. "There's probably plenty of places we could go."

"No, this spot is perfect. We're too high to be seen by anyone. If it's reported anywhere, everyone will hear about it, and Hawk Moth will hear about it, and then he'll know that we're onto him. Gotta keep this an absolute secret."

And she scooted closer to him, until there was enough fabric left over that she could pull it across both of them. "This works," she said.

Chat Noir vowed he would die before he suggested they move locations again. His elbows could suffer, because Ladybug was willingly snuggling him, from their shoulders to their hips all the way down - he shifted his legs ever so slightly, until he felt hers - all the way down to their toes.

He expected her to move after a few minutes, as the warmth of the blanket and their shared body heat thawed her out, but when she didn't move, he asked, "Are you still cold?"

"A little," she admitted.

Slowly, Chat Noir shifted his weight to his left elbow and laid his right arm across her back, nestling her into his side. It was because he was a good partner who wanted to keep her warm. Not because he had a raging crush on her.

He kept his movements light and gentle and stayed very still so she wouldn't complain, but a moment later, she pushed herself more tightly against him.

"Thank you," she said. "This is much better."

She must have been colder than she'd let on because normally she wouldn't have been so liberal with what she allowed him. But, and he couldn't help but voice the question, something wasn't quite right.

"Why isn't your suit protecting you from the cold like it normally does?"

"It's helping," she replied. "But my head and neck are still exposed, aren't they? Do you know how much heat you lose that way?"

Chat Noir shook his head.

"Almost 50%."

That made sense… no, it didn't [italics] make sense. It had never worked like that before, but then again, they were usually in life-or-death battles when they were suited up. Movement was plentiful and created a lot of heat. Maybe lying completely still made a difference.

Their breaths came out in white puffs as they lay there. Ladybug started holding her breath to create bigger puffs as they waited. Her lips were very pretty. It wasn't the first time he'd noticed (and he was sure it wasn't going to be the last). They were a perfect shade of pink, and they looked smooth, and were the perfect size. Both in relation to her face but also for kissing. The perfect combination.

And… she saw him staring at her mouth.

"Uh," he fumbled. "Your nose. It's cold. Because of the cold. So yeah, it makes sense that you're cold. Because it's cold, just like your nose says. Not– not that your nose is super noticeable or anything. Even if it's bright red with cold." He put his face down against his folded arms and tried not to die. Was it really better to pretend he was staring at her nose that entire time? That's such a weird thing to stare at. He should have owned up to thinking about kissing her. At least he could have played it off as a joke and not made it super awkward.

He was grateful when the sun went down a little while later to hide the burning blush that he was sure she could see. Unfortunately, the sun took the rest of the day's warmth with it. She'd picked the coldest day of April, and it was only going to get worse.

It wasn't any surprise to him when a minute later she announced that it was too dark to continue and asked if he wanted to go home.

"I can still see. Night vision," he weakly offered. He'd only lifted his gaze once since claiming he was staring at her nose, checked that she was still smirking at him, and quickly hid again. Some stakeout partner he was. He should make it up to her. "Do you want me to stay out here a little longer?"

"I don't mind keeping you company," she said. And she turned onto her side facing him, and rested her head on her arm.

Chat Noir kept his face resolutely buried in his arms, but now his blush wasn't from embarrassment. She was stretched out lazily next to him. If she shifted to the side, even a little, he'd be touching her stomach. It didn't help when her breath brushed his ear.

He popped his head up, staring intently at the buildings in front of him, trying to focus on counting the windows, and not how close she was.

"So how was your day?" she asked, unaware of his struggles.

"Fine." His voice cracked on the word, so he tried again. "It was fine."

"Just fine? I hope hanging out with me made it better than fine."

He nodded dumbly and contemplated scooting away. Or maybe just rolling to the edge of the building and then off it. So far she still hadn't realized anything was wrong, but it wasn't going to stay that way if he stayed weirdly silent.

"It's too bad we didn't see anything today," he finally said. "Stakeout was kind of a bust."

"I don't mind," she replied. "We can always try again another day. Besides," she said. "This was a nice break from our regular patrols. Don't you think?"

He scooted away from her a little bit, so he could lie down but not be right [italics] next to her. It helped.

"Chat?"

"Yes." He mirrored her position, on his side, head pillowed on his arm. "I like this." He kept his eyes firmly trained on her face while he mentally explored their positions, how their breaths intermingled, mapping how their knees touched. They were so close he could have counted her lashes.

"STAKEOUT IS OVER." Ladybug burst out of the blanket, and cold air came rushing back to him, slapping away the warm contentment he'd been enclosed in.

"Wha–"

She moved so quickly that he only caught the edge of her blushing face. "I'll see you next time!" She fumbled at her waist for the yoyo. "Bye!"

In an instant, Chat Noir was alone and confused on a rooftop, blanket still wrapped around his legs. Okay, he definitely didn't do anything that time to set her off, right? He wasn't staring at her lips (at least right before she left), and he didn't say anything, just that he agreed with her that it was nice. Untangling himself from the blanket, he rehashed the end of their conversation, but couldn't figure it out. No, he really hadn't done anything to make her uncomfortable this time that he could tell.

(He thought. He hoped.)

So what had it been?

He rolled up the blanket and, not knowing what else to do with it, took it home.

---

Tag list: @clawsout83 @trippingovermyfeet @tbehartoo

[cursivebloodlines]

📸 - logan

Send a 📸 to see 3-5 pictures that my muse has/has taken of your muse(s) | @overnightheartbeats | Accepting!

Dani dragged Logan to another museummmmm which he probably groans at to start with - another one? Really? but we all know he loves it really. Loves going with her specifically, even if it's just to take the piss and poke fun at everything there. This photo? Definitely the result of him poking fun while he was trying to take a photo of her. "How did they even use to wear this shit? No wonder they all look so serious in their paintings. It's a bit overkill, isn't it? How can they even breathe in that thing, especially with it coming right up to your neck? Do you think I bet I could pull it off? I bet I could. You think so, don't you? C'mon, don't lie." And we know what he's like, he just goes on and on and on. Resulting in a laughing fit on Danielle's end; he clearly captured the perfect timing because it's in the middle of her laughter which he finds absolutely adorable :')

She was having computer problems which she absolutely tried to fix herself sooo much before succumbing to asking Logan for his help. He totally was like 'why didn't you just call me in the first place????' and got the problem fixed in like 15 mins, tops! He had to take a photo to prove that he didn't always get on her nerves because look at that smileeeeee! We love them for it. :')

3. Probably was taken after a party and they're trying to find their way to their hotel room lmfaoooo. They're drunk and just laughing at nothing to the point where maybe Dani fell over lowkey lmfaoooo. Logan tried to take a photo of her on the floor because it's fucking hilarious but by that point, she's just sat up. Probably refusing to get up because now, the floor is comfortable. Thankfully not hurt, though that wouldn't have stopped him from laughing at her because he's terrible like that :') that smile on her face though! She's just adorable :') (He does help her up in the end, when they can finally get themselves together lmao!)

4. Can't imagine what time of the year this was taken at??? LOL! I feel like even if they go and stay with their fams over Christmas, they always have their own little Christmas too no matter what their other plans are. As part of their own little Christmas, they make it a competition to see who can find the most obscene Christmas sweaters. And of course, they take photos of each other wearing them, being complete and utter dorks. She totally won that year. But he thought it was too adorable, and definitely accused her of buying a reindeer soft toy and chopped it up to sew to her jumper. "How could you do this to poor Rudolph?" "How can it be Rudolph? There's no red nose!" "You probably cut that off too!"

5. They went out for dinnerrrrrr and Dani looks ready to chomp. How could he not want to take a photo? :')

6. Everything about this aaaa. Probably went out for a little picnic or something and look at the beautiful backdrop of flowers! Of course he would take a photo hehe. She's not even fully looking at the camera properly but that's okay because he thinks she looks beautiful anyway. So precious. <3

[talaruecosplay]

“We’d move a lot faster if you’d keep your eyes on the road and off me arse.”

I had a lot of fun at Famine this year. I was crazy busy, but I got Cait done in time.

📷:pandariot799

[novamirmirsblog]

Romanoff in aisle 4

MINOR BLACK WIDOW SPOILERS (I think)

Word Count: 1020

Genre: fluff

Request: no

Warnings: none?

Summary: Natasha wasn't too sure about you meeting her family so what happens when you run into them at the supermarket

A/N: I'm not too sure about this one - it's been sitting in my WIPs for a hot min but I figured you guys have been patient so VOILA

You and Natasha had been dating for just under 2 and a half years when the question of meeting the family popped up. You wanted to know more about Natasha's childhood in Ohio and the cute little sister she described but Natasha was adamant that you couldn't. Not yet anyway. Natasha already knew all about your family, even if they knew nothing about her. She had run a deep background check when you had first joined the team, not trusting SHIELD's nor Tony's measures. You had attempted to do the same to her but came up with nothing. Her name was clearly changed from whatever she was born with, and you found nothing on any of the relatives she spoke of.

It was ironic that not even 48 hours after having the discussion of meeting Natasha's family, that you had bumped into her sister and father.

"Natasha!" A deep Russian voice echoed over the tinny supermarket music. You immediately reached for your gun, abandoning the shopping trolly and spinning around to face the deep voice. You felt Natasha tense beside you but she made no move to get her gun.

"Alexi" Natasha sighed out, putting the pasta packet into the trolly "What the hell are you doing here?" You kept your gun raised but turned the safety back on.

"What? I cant just drop in to see my daughter? At least your sister comes to visit." Alexi jostled the blonde standing next to him.

"No I don't. That is a lie." Natasha's sister rolled her eyes, her accent arguably thicker than the large Russian man's was. She moved away from him, grabbing a bag of rice and putting it in a completely empty basket.

The whole thing was slightly suspicious. You were on edge. There was no such thing as coincidences - at least not from your experience. How on earth, in this large country, had the four of you managed to all go to the same shop.

"It's okay Y/n, they're harmless." Natasha placed her hand on your gun, lowering it slightly for you before you put it back in its holster. "I'll ask you again, what are you guys doing here?" This time Natasha addressed the question to her sister.

"They wanted to see who you were dating."

"Yelena! I told you not to tell them!" Natasha threw her hands in the air slightly, letting out a huff.

"Now now, don't fight girls. Besides, why would you keep such a beautiful creature from us! There will be such cute grandbabies!"

"You told your sister?" You turned to Natasha. You thought you weren't telling people about your relationship. The two of you weren't actively hiding it, but you weren't parading it around either. Obviously the whole team knew but that was a story for another time.

"Yes?" Natasha looked sheepishly at you. "Look I don't think this is the place for this conversation."

"You're right. Your mother will want to be here for this too."

You watched in stunned silence as the three of them abandoned their shopping and walked out of the shop. It was strange to see Natasha so...normal. She was happily bickering with her sister and telling her dad to stop hugging her, all normal things a normal family would do. You snapped out of your daze and got in the car with Natasha and her family.

~~~~~

By the time you had arrived at the hotel Natasha's family was staying at, you had sat through a full blown lecture about why Yelena's jacket had so many pockets and why Natasha was a poser.

"Mama! Y/n agrees, Natasha is a poser! Also I need you to sew more pockets for Y/n." Yelena flopped on a bed, shouting into the bathroom.

If you thought Alexi was intimidating, you were about to be shocked. Even though Natasha's mother was a lot smaller than Alexi, she demanded attention as her presence filled up the room. You suddenly saw where Natasha got her natural confidence and amazing posture from.

"Hmm" Natasha's mother walked up to you, giving you a once over before circling you slowly. You knew any of them could kill you in an instant if they wanted to but you hadn't truly felt it until this very moment.

"Melinaaa, don't be mean." Alexi puts a hand on her shoulder, stopping her from circling you. "What do you think!"

"Hey, no. We're not ranking my girlfriend."

"I would give her a 10/10" Yelena called from the bed.

"That's because she likes your pockets dear." Melina said, her eyes not leaving you. You stayed completely still as she got even closer to you. You tilted your chin up ever so slightly, almost in an act of defiance before Melina broke out into a large grin. "I like you."

The tension from the room dissipated instantly and you took a breath you didn't know you were holding. You thought you were done with the evaluation until Melina started talking.

"You have good posture, you don't back down easily and Natasha is clearly head over heels for you."

"...Melina..." Natasha groans out.

"And she likes my pockets!"

"...and you like Yelena's pockets however none of those things matter if you hurt my daughter because I will hunt you until you are so tired you willingly give yourself up to me so I can break your spirit before cutting you into tiny little piec-"

"OKAY! That's enough of that thank you!" Natasha pulls you away from Melina, putting herself between the two of you. Had it been a different scenario, it would have been comical considering you were both taller than Natasha and so Melina continued to glare at you.

"This is why I never bring anyone around..." Natasha mumbled.

"No. You never bring anyone around because you loved Y/n since the first day you saw her." Yelena said with a confidence only a little sister possessed.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Babe you're nearly as red as your hair." You wrapped your arms around her waist and spoke into her ear. This only caused her face to get redder.

"Completely whipped. Remember when we were like that love?" Alexi spun Melina around and she laughed lightly.

"Ew. Stop being all lovey and nasty in my presence." Yelena groaned as she threw a pillow over her face.

"Stop being a child Yelena." Natasha said

"sToP bEiNg a cHiLd" Yelena mocked.

"I do not sound like that!"

"Yes you do. You sound exactly like that."

Natasha broke out of your arms and landed on Yelena, pushing the pillow further into her face. "Take that back."

"Natasha if you're going to kill your sister, at least do it properly."

Yelena scrambled up from under the pillow. "Mama! How could you!"

"Well either fight back or die." Alexi deadpanned.

"Or..." Your voice drew everyone's attention. "We could go grab something to eat. I'm starving."

"Aw baby I'm so sorry!" Natasha came rushing over to you, abandoning her task of killing her sister. "Where do you want to eat? I completely forgot we hadn't had lunch. How about that diner? Or we could get Italian? Or how about Mexican?"

"I don't mind. Where do you guys want to eat?" You looked at the shock on the other's faces and smiled. You might not have super spy skills but you knew just how to get your girlfriend to stop doing something.

"I think you're my new favourite person... When's the wedding?" Yelena asked, already half way out the door. "Oh- and let's get Italian! I want pizza..."

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Tuesday 12 June 1838

7 ¾

12

fine morning the carriage ordered at 9 ½ to go to Versailles – breakfast at 9 ½ - F66° at 10 ½ am at which hour A- and I and the 2 servants and our valet de Place (Lafevre) all off to V- about or very soon after stopt at the hotel (des Reservoirs?) Rue des reservoirs – nice looking house – but on inquiry found it like the hotel de France more like a mere Restaurant and café – not a room to get into for a minute or 2 where could se resposer etc. on inquiry the answer was all the rooms were occupied – obliged to set off and seek some place for A- to sit down – a pot de chambre not to be had – hardly even a seat to be had for a moment till A- standing still in the street declaring she could not walk any further, a woman let her have a chair till Lefevre and I looked about some place near – a little chambre au 3me at liberty – I said A- had not la force physique pour the monter – got the porter cross-legged at his taylors’ work to dress and turn out that A- might be there and lie down on the bed chez la concierge! she begged me to go and take the servants and see the place and leave her lying down – she only wanted to be quiet – the servants waited in the streets – what a terrible work   but she said it was monsieur that had come on so much she could not stir it was coming through everything  I set off and in twenty minutes returned with a nice pair gray worsted stockings sewed together at the ends with an aune of riband and a little vial bottle of brandy and all was right and at 1 ¼ A- sufficiently rétablie, and we were all off from the porters’ to the palace – at the palace (raining all the way) at 1 ½ - A- got on very well, and was on her legs all the time (with a mere minute or 2 sitting down in the palace) till 4 when we were all turned out – many people of all ranks – the Jeanne d’arc by the princess Mary decidedly the most interesting in the musée – we happened to enter the gallery at the end where this really beautiful statue is placed and stumbled upon it immediately – our valet de place quite innocent of knowing anything about it, nor did we take the trouble to enlighten him for the benefit of our successors – the palace as a musée does great credit to the tact and taste of Louis Philip – the effect is fine – but (vide. Quarterly Review of......... no.                 ) some of the pictures have little value beyond the covering the naked walls and are sad daubs? I observed nothing intrinsically worth much? but the galleries – the building is magnificent with its gardens and fountains – however formal and at variance with nature – resolved not to dine at V- Lefevre had not contrived to have the carriage in waiting for us, and we had to wait for it near ½ hour but luckily went into the porters’ lodge near, and the people were very civil and so gave them 1/.

SH:7/ML/E/21/0121

and off from there at 4 25 and home at 6 25 – rain almost immediately on leaving V- and had the carriage several times open and shut – ordered dinner from Rossets’ in passing on our return – dinner about 7 – dessert in the drawing room – long in making the following wrote and sent off by Lefevre (valet de place) at 9 ¾ the following note to ‘Madame la comtesse de Bourke Rue du Faubourg St. Honoré 53’ ‘Ma chère madame de Bourke   Si par votre bonté extrême pour moi vous avez fait demander à Madame de Pourpris des renseignemens de la femme de chambre Rosalie, je vous prie de ma faire part de la réponse de cette dame, et de m’aider de vos bons conseils – Je vous remercie mille fois d’avance, et je vous prie, madame, d’agréer l’assurance de mon dévouement A. Lister Hotel de la Terrasse Mardi Soir’ – very civil note in answer to say that Miss Gassie had been twice and could not find the lady at home – but Madame de Bourke had written to her – was expecting her answer and I should have it in the morning – fine day till about 1 then rain and afterwards very showery afternoon and evening – F65° now at 11 25 pm

[crescentmoons-and-stardust]

The Broken Hearts Hotel

Chapter One: Star-Crossed

I’ve had many names over the years. I don’t even remember my original name so I’ll use the most popular one. The one everyone recognizes. 

Juliet is my name and fair Verona is where I’m from (in this version, at least). My age is disputable but I remember I was young. Too young for what I experienced. It blows my mind that some can even consider my tale a romance when I think about it. My life was cushy, I’ll admit. My family was rich and influential. I didn’t want for anything growing up. Looking back I realize I had the perfect life but hindsight is twenty twenty. 

Maybe that’s why I did what I did though. I was a spoiled, bored teenager. I needed excitement in my life.

Rosalina was considered the beauty of the family. She was a few years older than me and was totally stuck up. Always surrounded by a group of friends, my older cousin had no time for little ole me. Actually, no one really had time for me. My other cousin Tybalt had an older brother protectiveness of me but other than that he left me alone. My dearest (and truthfully, only) friend was my nurse. For the record, her name was Bianca. That’s usually left out.

Bianca was my friend and surrogate mother since my own couldn’t bother herself with parenting. Bianca was old fashioned. We’d spend our time doing needlepoint and reading the bible. Like I said, I was a bored teenager.

So when I was finally allowed to attend one of our grand masquerade parties, I was thrilled. Bianca sewed me a gorgeous dress, though the neckline was a little too modest for my taste. I spent hours at the market trying to find the perfect mask. I finally decided on a dainty red and gold mask lined with pearls. I was going all out for my first masquerade. 

I could barely sleep the night beforehand. I was so excited. I had my hair done and was dressed hours before the party started. I’m not going to lie, when I looked in the mirror, I was blown away by how I looked. I finally looked like a woman, and a beautiful one at that.

The party was both amazing and overwhelming. There were so many people that I had to greet and so many men to dance with. But one man in particular caught my eye.

So I should probably back up here and talk about the rivalry that has plagued my story for centuries. Montagues and Capults have hated each other since God knows when. It goes back years, maybe even decades. What was the issue? No one knows. Isn’t it ironic? Isn’t it poetic? 

Let’s be real, it’s stupid. And I’m sure the original reason for the hatred between my family and his was stupid as well. The rivalry was well known throughout the town. I can only assume everyone else rolled their eyes when it was brought up.

Anyway, back to the party. Romeo caught my eye from across the room. Was it love at first sight? I thought so but what did I know? I’d never been in love before. But there he was looking as handsome as a prince. And he was staring at me in much the same way. I blushed and broke eye contact first. Suddenly I was filled with panic and I slipped out into the garden. He followed me a moment after. 

“My lady,” He bowed to me. Actually bowed. How could I resist that? “My name is Romeo.”

“Nice to meet you Romeo,” I murmured. I was going for demure but it came out as a squeak. He took my hand and kissed it in greeting. I could have melted into a puddle on the floor. Embarrassing, I know, but this was the first man to interact with me outside of family. I didn’t know at the time that he had originally been there for Rosalina. Or that he fell in love with a different girl each week, I just knew that there was a handsome man before me. Me. Boring, good mannered, Juliet.

Well it wasn’t long before we were in the garden kissing until my lips went numb. Unfortunately my absence was noted and Tybalt came searching for me. Not only did he ruin my first kiss but he made such a scene that Romeo was soon kicked out of the party. 

I was sent to my room at once where I wallowed in despair. Would I ever see my beloved Romeo again? Well I didn’t have to wait for very long for my answer. Romeo scaled the wall and invited himself into my room and not long after, my bed.

It was wonderful and scary and thrilling all at once. The things he whispered in my ear, the lengths he promised to go for me. It’s no wonder I thought myself in love with him. And for that night, everything was perfect. 

It all fell apart pretty quickly though. Romeo got a little too hot headed in the streets and killed my cousin. You think that would end any romantic feelings on my part but I was young and stupid. Tybalt started it anyway! He killed Romeo’s best friend first. Romeo was just a loyal friend. It was sweet, really.

That’s what I told myself. Not my proudest moment, I’ll admit. And then Romeo had to go into hiding. You see, they didn’t know it had been Romeo who killed Tybalt. The fight happened late at night and the only other witness, Mercruito, was already dead. So he left his body and fled to my bedroom to stash the murder weapon. He needed to leave town but he promised he’d come back. And I promised to wait. And I did. For months. He took an apprenticeship a few villages over while he waited for someone else to take the blame for Tybalt’s death. So I wrote him love letters that I never sent. I kept my window unlocked every night. I waited and prayed and yearned. And then I met Paris.

Paris was not nearly as handsome as Romeo but he was still an attractive man. While Romeo was flirtatious and suave, Paris was charming and gentle. He was a sweet man and if I hadn’t met Romeo, I think I would have been ecstatic when my mother announced our engagement. 

We would have been happy together. I realize that now, but then all I thought of was my Romeo. I had a sweet spot for Paris and that only caused guilt when I remembered that I had already promised myself to another. Romeo was my true love. How could I ever think I’d be happy with another?

The timing of Romeo’s return couldn’t have been more perfect, almost as if he planned it like that. He had heard about the engagement. He raged and he sobbed as he asked if I was going to abandon him so easily. He’d die for me, he said. Would I be willing to do the same?

I would. And I did. With a special tonic I would fake my death and then Romeo would come get me from my family’s crypt. He’d whisk me away and we would start a new life together. I believed him and I think he believed himself as well. But it’s like I said earlier, Romeo was quick to fall in love. 

So when the tonic was finally ready I drank it quickly before I could change my mind. My thoughts slowed and my vision blurred. I became sluggish and panicked as the tonic slowed my heart rate. I tried to make it to my bed but I think I may have lost consciousness before I could. I heard shouts as my world went black.

When I woke, my body ached. I was lying on a stone slab in a thin dress that did not keep out the cold. As my thoughts returned to me, I looked around and there was my Romeo waiting for me. I gave a weak smile that he did not return. Instead, he could not meet my eye and was fidgeting nervously.

“I think we’ve made a mistake,” He said at last. My thoughts were still confused so I did not respond. 

“It was a fantasy to think we should run away together,” He continued.

“What are you saying?” I asked but I already knew. He was not going to start a new life with me. 

“Perhaps you should marry Paris instead.” And then I knew. He had met someone else. He did not love me, he never did. This was all a game to him and it had finally gone too far.

“I gave up everything for you!” I cried. He shrugged and told me I wasn’t actually dead. I could return home to my family’s rejoice and it would be like nothing had changed. But things had changed. My heart was broken as the man who’d asked me to die for him had already moved on.

And suddenly I was angry. A burning white hatred bloomed inside me. I wanted him to suffer the way I had while he had been gone. How hopeless and sad I’d been. The happiness I’d felt when he returned was now being ripped away from me. I’d done all he had asked. I’d waited and was going to give up my entire life for him.

It was stupid to remind him of Tybalt. That I could tell everyone what he had done. I had the murder weapon after all, still rusted with my cousin’s blood. Romeo’s face paled as he tried to calm me. The more he tried, the angrier I became until we were both yelling.

I didn’t even see the knife he had until I felt it thrust up inside of me. He looked as shocked as I felt as we both realized what he had done. But then just as quickly, the shock vanished from his face as determined resolve replaced it. He stabbed me over and over again until my white dress was no longer white and the blood was pooling onto the floor. He laid me down gently, as gently as he had done when he shared my bed. He whispered sweet nothings in my ear that I tried not to hear. His tears that dripped down onto me only made me angrier and with my last strength I tried to push him away.

Blackness. Then light. Then the Broken Hearts Hotel. 

My story, as twisted and retold as it has now become, is the greatest romantic tragedy of all time. And I couldn’t be any more furious about it.

[senor-plume]

Marriage by Gregory Corso

Should I get married? Should I be good? Astound the girl next door with my velvet suit and faustus hood? Don't take her to movies but to cemeteries tell all about werewolf bathtubs and forked clarinets then desire her and kiss her and all the preliminaries and she going just so far and I understanding why not getting angry saying You must feel! It's beautiful to feel! Instead take her in my arms lean against an old crooked tombstone and woo her the entire night the constellations in the sky-

When she introduces me to her parents back straightened, hair finally combed, strangled by a tie, should I sit with my knees together on their 3rd degree sofa and not ask Where's the bathroom? How else to feel other than I am, often thinking Flash Gordon soap- O how terrible it must be for a young man seated before a family and the family thinking We never saw him before! He wants our Mary Lou! After tea and homemade cookies they ask What do you do for a living?

Should I tell them? Would they like me then? Say All right get married, we're losing a daughter but we're gaining a son- And should I then ask Where's the bathroom?

O God, and the wedding! All her family and her friends and only a handful of mine all scroungy and bearded just wait to get at the drinks and food- And the priest! he looking at me as if I masturbated asking me Do you take this woman for your lawful wedded wife? And I trembling what to say say Pie Glue! I kiss the bride all those corny men slapping me on the back She's all yours, boy! Ha-ha-ha! And in their eyes you could see some obscene honeymoon going on- Then all that absurd rice and clanky cans and shoes Niagara Falls! Hordes of us! Husbands! Wives! Flowers! Chocolates! All streaming into cozy hotels All going to do the same thing tonight The indifferent clerk he knowing what was going to happen The lobby zombies they knowing what The whistling elevator man he knowing Everybody knowing! I'd almost be inclined not to do anything! Stay up all night! Stare that hotel clerk in the eye! Screaming: I deny honeymoon! I deny honeymoon! running rampant into those almost climactic suites yelling Radio belly! Cat shovel! O I'd live in Niagara forever! in a dark cave beneath the Falls I'd sit there the Mad Honeymooner devising ways to break marriages, a scourge of bigamy a saint of divorce-

But I should get married I should be good How nice it'd be to come home to her and sit by the fireplace and she in the kitchen aproned young and lovely wanting my baby and so happy about me she burns the roast beef and comes crying to me and I get up from my big papa chair saying Christmas teeth! Radiant brains! Apple deaf! God what a husband I'd make! Yes, I should get married! So much to do! Like sneaking into Mr Jones' house late at night and cover his golf clubs with 1920 Norwegian books Like hanging a picture of Rimbaud on the lawnmower like pasting Tannu Tuva postage stamps all over the picket fence like when Mrs Kindhead comes to collect for the Community Chest grab her and tell her There are unfavorable omens in the sky! And when the mayor comes to get my vote tell him When are you going to stop people killing whales! And when the milkman comes leave him a note in the bottle Penguin dust, bring me penguin dust, I want penguin dust-

Yes if I should get married and it's Connecticut and snow and she gives birth to a child and I am sleepless, worn, up for nights, head bowed against a quiet window, the past behind me, finding myself in the most common of situations a trembling man knowledged with responsibility not twig-smear nor Roman coin soup- O what would that be like! Surely I'd give it for a nipple a rubber Tacitus For a rattle a bag of broken Bach records Tack Della Francesca all over its crib Sew the Greek alphabet on its bib And build for its playpen a roofless Parthenon

No, I doubt I'd be that kind of father Not rural not snow no quiet window but hot smelly tight New York City seven flights up, roaches and rats in the walls a fat Reichian wife screeching over potatoes Get a job! And five nose running brats in love with Batman And the neighbors all toothless and dry haired like those hag masses of the 18th century all wanting to come in and watch TV The landlord wants his rent Grocery store Blue Cross Gas & Electric Knights of Columbus impossible to lie back and dream Telephone snow, ghost parking- No! I should not get married! I should never get married! But-imagine if I were married to a beautiful sophisticated woman tall and pale wearing an elegant black dress and long black gloves holding a cigarette holder in one hand and a highball in the other and we lived high up in a penthouse with a huge window from which we could see all of New York and even farther on clearer days No, can't imagine myself married to that pleasant prison dream-

O but what about love? I forget love not that I am incapable of love It's just that I see love as odd as wearing shoes- I never wanted to marry a girl who was like my mother And Ingrid Bergman was always impossible And there's maybe a girl now but she's already married And I don't like men and- But there's got to be somebody! Because what if I'm 60 years old and not married, all alone in a furnished room with pee stains on my underwear and everybody else is married! All the universe married but me!

Ah, yet well I know that were a woman possible as I am possible then marriage would be possible- Like SHE in her lonely alien gaud waiting her Egyptian lover so i wait-bereft of 2,000 years and the bath of life.

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 24

Bio dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Oh dear, oh dear Lila what a shame this is

First< Previous > Next

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The next couple of days are... awkward. Dick keeps calling which is nice, they even go for dinner one day dragging Tim along. Tim seems fine, tired but that's hardly unusual. Jason had just straight up disappeared, but Dick had assured them he would be coming to the Wayne Gala that weekend. Speaking of which they had been invited, well they were already going because of MDC stuff but now they were also invited as civilians. The news would have been happy if Damian hadn't stormed out the room when it was mentioned. The next day and the day after that hadn’t improved anything, Damian was completely ignoring them and they weren't the only ones to notice.

“What did you do to upset Dami so much?!” Lila announces rather loudly to the entire cafeteria, “I told you, you were going too far,”

“Lila, and I mean this sincerely, fuck off,” Marion says flatly, he hears Marinette cover a laugh despite swatting at him lightly.

“How dare you?! I’m just trying to look out for him,” Lila sniffles, basking under the attention of her large audience, looking between the girl and Damian. Marion catches Damian's eye, raising a brow basically saying you’re going to let this slide? Apparently he was as Damian looks away from them, and if anything was going to give Lila more believability it’s that.

“Marion are you alright?” Rose asks gently, having tiptoed after Lila with the rest of the class. Had he been looking so downcast she actually noticed?

“I’m fi-” Whatever assurance he was about to give is mute as he feels tears sliding down his cheeks, “Fuck-I just-”

He tries to wipe away the tears, very aware of everyone watching him. It’s starting to get hard to breath when he feels gentle arms wrap around him. It’s Rose. Rose is actually hugging him! It’s been so long he forgot what her hugs felt like. Well if she was trying to stop him from crying that certainly didn’t help matters. He tries to take a calming breath but it comes out more like a sob and soon enough he can’t hold it back anymore. A fine place to break down Mari, really, truly a testament to your skill.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this here,” Lila scoffs, Marion can feel the arms around him tighten, “After all the work I put in for this trip-”

“LILA WOULD YOU JUST STOP!” Alya’s scream makes them all jump back, Marion turning to face the absolutely seething girl, “This is the first time in YEARS we’ve been allowed to feel emotions! So just leave it alone, they’re allowed to be sad!”

“Well-I-its-they-” Lila splutters looking completely blindsided that one of her puppets broke off its strings, clearly she hasn't been paying attention the last few weeks, funny when you save someone's life they tend to listen and care about what you say a bit more. And if that leads to noticing a few more jibes in their direction... well that's just a happy coincidence.

“What is your problem!? You’ve been nothing but nasty to them since we got here!” Well a bit longer than that but good on you for noticing Alya.

“Oh, it’s just been so hard for me!” Lila exclaims, crocodile tears coming in as Marion still tries to wipe off his own, the genuine article at that, “If you had heard some of the things they’ve said to me-”

Lila jumps as Damian appears next to her. He doesn't look at or acknowledge the twins. In fact, he still looks rather pissed but at least some of its directed at Lila this time. He silently hands his phone over to Alya with some hesitation, Lila's eyes go wide. As quickly as he had come he’s gone, disappearing into the crowd that had formed around them.

“What’s-”

“Give it!” Lila screeches, lunging for the phone. Alya jerks back in surprise, Lila’s nails tearing down her arm. Ugly red marks that had broken the skin and gone in deep.

“What the hell!” Alya shouts through tears, clutching her bloody arm as the class crowd around her.

Instead of apologizing Lila tries to snatch the phone in the moment of distraction, but Alix is a hair quicker. She presses play despite Lila shouting threats that made the rest of the class go pale. The recording plays everyone is glued to it. The class becoming increasingly more hysterical. Marinette doesn't wait for it to finish, she gently guides Marion out of the room slipping through the crowd. They hide in an empty classroom, far enough away they can’t hear the outcry that follows.

“Do you think that’s really it, it’s done?” Marion whispers, Marinette is wiping his face with a handkerchief he had always made fun of her for carrying.

“Maybe, I honestly can’t bring myself to care anymore,” Marinette rests her forehead against his, her standing as he sits on a desk, “I thought I’d feel more…”

“Victorious?”

“Yeah,”

“I don’t think there are any winners here,” He can hear someone shouting their names down the hall, voice wobbly with tears, he doesn't care about any apology the can muster, “How lame did I look crying?”

“In front of the whole school like that?”

“Yeah,”

“I’d say it was pretty brave,” She pulls him into a hug, squeezing tight.

“He was just ignoring us,” Marion admits quietly, Lila hadn’t made him cry in a long time, but Damian? Damian did.

“I know,” Marinette pats his head, the same way she would tease him as Chat Noir, “But he did something in the end didn’t he?”

“Oh, gee look at this lame-ass, better make him stop before people associate him with me’,” Marion does an impression not remotely close to Damian, Marinette pinches him.

“That’s not what he was thinking and you know it,”

“Yeah,” Marion sighs, he can hear doors opening and closing now, apologies cast out through the school in hopes they’ll hear them, “What do we do now?”

“Jump out the window?”

So they did end up jumping out the window. Something Alfred had somehow known they were planning because he was waiting right there to pick them up. The debated on actually going to the manor, but their phones were lighting up with messages and the hotel was not an option. The Manor was silent when they arrived. And it remained silent for most of their stay.

Dick had apparently set himself a mission of making them feel at home, whatever that meant, and was nowhere to be seen. He seemed like the only one actually happy to have them join the ragtag family so without him it was likely the others were just avoiding them. That was fine, really, Alfred set them up with a movie and ice cream that they used to ignore everything else.

Dick was their saving grace and the bane of their existence. When he came back he had apparently made the decision they would be staying at the manor for the rest of the trip, despite it only meant to be a few more days(it wasn't for them but he didn’t know that yet). Alfred had apparently told him what happened and he had brought it upon himself to bring their friends, actual friends not classmates to the manor. This was a blessing and a curse as all they seemed to want to do was fill them in on what had happened.

They listened and ate ice cream together. And yeah Marion kind of wished he could have seen Lila as every lie was torn down but Chloe rejoiced in relaying her reactions with great detail. She had of course tried to lie and turn it all on the twins, them trying to frame her. However, with blood running down Alya's arm that warranted a trip to the hospital it was met with a cold shoulder. Their talk eventually morphed into laughing at all her outlandish lies, which Chloe gladly compiled into a list to share with the rest of the class, ranking them in order of their stupidity. She planned to go through the whole list on the plane ride back where there would be no escape for anyone. It was fun in a way, and if Marion noticed more than one pair of eyes spying in on the conversation he wasn’t going to point it out. Lila was yet to face her dues.

When their friends had to go back to the hotel they promised not to give anything away. Alfred gratefully let them skip over dinner and Dick was overjoyed to show them to their rooms. Marion kind of wanted to laugh when he was shown his, wondering how much of it was Dick, how much was Bruce, and what was Alfred.

There were cat plushies everywhere which he had to guess was Bruce latching onto the detail from the fair and indeed Dough boy is sitting front and center on his bed. Then again wherever he was over he did spend a lot of time with Catfred. It could also be Dick taking note of that because really everything has cats on it. There's blankets, pillows, a rug with kittens over it. There was an armchair shaped like a cat head, and where had they even found that? It only got worse the further he went into the room noticing that the curtains had been replaced to have cats on them and there were pictures of cats hanging on the wall, the lamps in the room even cast shadows of cats. The only thing he could find that wasn't cat-related was a picture of them with Bruce at the fair, each sporting a plushie with Bruce holding a cutesy Batman plush between the grinning twins.

“Nette my defining trait isn’t cats is it?” He walks into her room through the joining door he was willing to bet didn’t exist a week ago. His side, of course, had a cat painted on it, he closes it just so he has less exposure to all the cats.

“Course not,” Marinette grins from her sewing machine.

She had a more, let's say subdued room. Oh sure Bruce had apparently found her all the Ladybug plushies he could but they apparently didn't have the same abundance as cats. Instead, he seemed to have focused on her sewing kit. Mannequins littered about her room that Marinette had already started pinning fabric to. Half of her walk-in closet was dedicated to spools of fabric, the other stocked with clothes. Marion didn’t dare brave his own knowing he would find only cats .

“Did you notice the dollhouse?” Marinette asks as Marion flops onto her bed, at least you could actually see her bed and it wasn't hidden by a pile of cats.

“Yeah mine was stocked with camembert and sugar cubes,” and it had personalized rooms for both Kaalki and Plagg that they were happily exploring.

“Mine cookies,” Marinette hums, more concerned with her design than the topic at hand, “Think we got found out,”

“Probably, whoever it is hasn't said anything tho,” Marion looks over at the large dollhouse in Marinette's room, Tikki waved at him from a window and he waved back.

“Probably Alfred,”

“Probably, that mans a witch,”

“A Witch?”

“I know what I said,” Marion sighs, sealing himself to go back into the cat infestation. How do you politely say ‘thank you so much but what the fuck?’

He knew he had to brave the closet sometime as someone had been so kind as to put away his clothes. Sure enough, it was as bad as he had imagined. Everything from t-shirts with cartoon cats to clothes carefully crafted to have cat ears. I was actually kind of amazing at this point. Giving up his conquest to find his actual pj’s he buttons up a two-piece that is, naturally, covered with cats.

On his way out he notices a bit of black at the very front of the closet not fitting in with the color-coded organization. He pulls it out to find a gorgeous leather jacket that was completely devoid of cats! Huzzah! There was a note hanging from the sleeve which Marion unfolded.

Knew Bruce and Dick would be idiots so I got you something actually decent

I saw the room and yeah it's a fucken mess

If you ever need it gone or I don’t know accidentally set on fire give me a call

Marion chuckles knowing it could be no one else but Jason he tucks the note into the jacket, pulling it on to find a perfect fit. He keeps it on as a shield, something solidly not-cat is comforting at this point. He pushes the piles of cat toys onto the floor and seriously he was going to have to have a talk with Bruce about moderation and interior decorating. He lies down looking up at the ceiling, then immediately getting up and storming into Nette’s room. He was not going to sleep under a mural of cats! Nope not tonight! Not ever!

Marinette doesn't even look up from where she’s hunched over her desk as he flops onto her bed. Can someone be over the moon to be surrounded by ladybugs? Yes provided they have had an overexposure to cats first.

“I know we don’t want to go to school tomorrow but I can not stand a second more in that room,”

“Schools over Mari, it’s the concert tomorrow remember?”

“Goddammit,”

“Jasons having a bad influence on you,”

“Can’t we have just one day of rest?”

“No, now go to sleep,”

“You first,” Marion shoots, back despite curling up under the blankets.

“If you want to wear that jacket tomorrow you better take it off before it gets ruined,”

“I can wear it for the concert?” He shoots back up, excited but takes her advice anyway.

“ No I did not spend weeks designing a new jacket for you to wear that,” Besides it doesn't even have bats on the back,”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Marion yawns, sinking back into the bed, and wow it’s really soft, “What if we changed them to Robins?”

“... you really don’t want me to sleep tonight do you?”

“Means I get the whole bed to myself, a master plan if I do say so myself,” Marion doesn't even stir as the pillow hits him square in the face.

----------------------

Taglist:

@technicallyburninggarden @fusser90  @misslenamooney @superbwhispersconnoisseur @biodad-bruce-month @nalu-ismyjam @the-one-woman-army @rosesandsailboats @blackmagicforever @zeneralla @ivymala07 @tired-butterfly @Ranger-gothamite @A-star-with-a-human-name @enchanted-nerd @trippingovermyfeet

[boonki]

17. “Can you let me see your eyes?” + obikin slow dancing <3 <3 <3

hello lovely! thank you so much for the prompt!! this was so much fun to write, i uh, got a little carried away with the romance i just love slow dancing so much like bro its just so good, so tender, AUGH  from this set (and i kinda forget this was supposed to be angsty but i think it worked out in the end lmaooo)

youre having a lovely tuesday :) 

here you go my dear <3

______

Snow dots Obi-wan’s eyelashes, holding perfectly still as the pair weaves their way through the crowd; the Christmas festival had just begun, gloriously donned trees and handcrafted, larger-than-life gingerbread houses carefully placed through the city like a treasure hunt for Christmas spirit. Obi-wan, a native to the city and a long time participant in the festival, drags Anakin, a new initiate and boyfriend of a few months, behind him by the hand, their fingers intertwined through thick gloves. 

“Oh, this one is by far my favorite.” Obi-wan throws the comment over his shoulder, eyes alight with elation, his whole face aglow from the warm lights meticulously strung through the trees lining the city sidewalks. Far off, Anakin can hear the faint echoes of Christmas carolers, of bells, of horns honking, and friends chattering.

A sharp tug sends him stumbling to keep up, and Anakin has just a moment to take in the building’s exterior before being thrust into a hotel more expensive than his life savings doubled. Tripled. It’s old money, marble staircases and velvet rugs, bellboys in suits and incandescent, shimmering chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. 

“Are you sure we should be here?” Anakin mock whispers to Obi-wan, who is only half-listening. “I can’t afford to be here.”  

They come to a sudden halt; if Anakin hadn’t had his eyes latched onto Obi-wan's red and ruddy face, tinted from the cold, he would’ve tumbled right into him. Obi-wan pulls Anakin’s hand up to his mouth, giving it a chaste kiss through the glove. “Look.” 

In front of them, he doesn’t know how he missed it, is the largest Christmas tree Anakin has ever seen. Red ribbons cascade down the sides, a waterfall frozen in place, and lustrous silver and gold bells, ranging in size from a fist to his entire torso speckle the branches, interlaced with dozens of tiny doves and cardinals. They stand there and stare at it for a moment, in awe of its beauty, Obi-wan occasionally glancing over at him with the joy of a child written all over his face. Guests race around them, like a river finding its way around a boulder, veering off to various hallways and exits, lugging suitcases and families behind them, not paying the couple any mind. Somehow it makes the moment all the more special: how beautiful it is, to capture something so lovely in secret with someone, standing in the open, lost in your own bubble.

“Wow. A lot of balls.” Anakin teases: a facade to cover up how much he actually really likes it. 

Obi-wan gives him a side eye and a thin smile. “I know you want me to make a joke out of that, but I refuse to stoop to your level, they’re ornaments.” 

“You’d have to be taller than me to”-he holds up air quotes, dragging one of Obi-wan’s hands with him-“stoop to my level.”

Obi-wan rolls his eyes at Anakin’s smug grin. They settle back into gazing at the tree for a few moments more, studying every detail.

“You haven’t even seen my favorite part of this place,” Obi-wan says, bouncing off behind them, tugging a reluctant Anakin, yet again. They make their way across the lobby teeming with people, up a set of shallow stairs lined with plush carpet, and into a quieter part of the hotel, a midsize room with mirrored sets of doors on either side, the staircases continuing to loop up  the other side of the room. It looks like a resting point of sorts, a midpoint between the lobby and the rest of the hotel. The chatter of the lobby doesn’t follow them, and Anakin is suddenly aware of how alone they are. 

“Uh, yeah, it’s…” Anakin tries to come up with a compliment, and fails. It’s just a regular room. 

Obi-wan laughs, full of mirth. “No, this isn’t it.” He lets go of Anakin and saunters up to one of the sets of doors, pulling it open like a butler, holding a hand out for Anakin to enter first. “This is.” 

Anakin draws his eyebrows together, bemused and wary. “Is this the part of the date where you murder me in a big, fancy hotel?” He walks towards the open door anyways. 

“No, but a rather good idea, I’ll save that for the future.” Obi-wan snorts, his hand falling to Anakin’s lower back as they step into the dance hall. 

It’s like something out of a movie, Anakin thinks. The hall is enormous, dauntingly tall, probably meant for a ball. There isn’t any light save for the white streaks that stream in through lofty, narrow windows, like a painter had dipped his brush in moonlight and stroked once across the canvas, but it’s enough for Anakin to make out the exquisitely patterned wood floor, the white and gold molded walls, the unlit chandeliers, the grand piano tucked neatly away in the corner. A thin layer of dust seems to cover everything, and the air is stagnant, desperate to see life waltz in again. Anakin feels as though he stepped out of reality, the hustle of the Christmas festival light years away. 

Stringed music starts to play behind him, audio clearly from a phone or small speaker, tin and canny in quality. He turns in confusion. “What are you-”

“May I have this dance?” Obi-wan asks, a hand offered in between them, no longer gloved. He is barely visible in the low lighting, shadows enshrouding all but the curve of one cheek, the glint in one eye. Obi-wan’s phone is on the floor, volume turned as high as it will go. 

A breath moves through Anakin, quiet and shallow, otherwise he is a statue. If he tried to speak, he thinks he’d choke around all the emotion flooding his chest, spilling down into his hands and legs, roaring up through his head and leaking out through his eyes. The music continues to float out into the space around them. 

Obi-wan coughs lightly, laugh lines falling away to reveal a layer of nervousness. The ocean inside Anakin churns. 

“Yeah, of course,” he says, and slips off his wool gloves, stuffing them into his back pocket and grabbing Obi-wan’s hand. The touch is like a shore to his ocean, pulling him forward, asking to be caressed, returned to, loved. 

They fall together naturally, staged for a lazy waltz, and begin to sway, like the tide creeping into the soft sand, retreating back into itself only to race ashore, finding a home in its rhythmic ritual. Anakin lets his forehead drop onto Obi-wan's shoulder, breathing him in, ignoring the lingering wetness from the snow. He thinks he’s crying. 

Obi-wan pulls back a bit, releasing his hand from the small of Anakin’s lower back to cup the dense gathering of curls just above his neck. “What’s wrong, dear?” The words are spoken into his hair with a gentle, hot breath that tickles Anakin’s ear. 

Anakin lets out a ragged breath, trying to get a hold of himself. This is more than anyone has ever done for him, more than he deserves; the whole evening had been a dream with a golden filter over it, every bit of it sewed into his heart with needle and thread, bleeding all over the place to never forget the details: an early dinner at their favorite Italian restaurant, snow bumbling down around them in the crisp winter air, a cup of shared hot cocoa from a street vendor, the crowd cheering together as the city’s tree was illuminated for the season, Obi-wan giddy to show him every single tree, every single gingerbread house. No one had ever put this much detail into a date, had ever given him this much thought, this much care and attention in a relationship. And he loved every bit of it, loved all the banter and casual touches, loved learning more about Obi-wan’s life growing up, loved- oh god, he loves this man. 

Still on Obi-wan’s shoulder, Anakin’s cheeks are hot, and the sea is still leaking from his eyelids, salty and stinging. “I love you,” he admits, whispers, confesses, knows to be true. 

Obi-wan stills beneath him. “Can you let me see your eyes, dear one?” 

Anakin leans back, just far enough to hold his face above Obi-wan’s, and looks at him, into him, through him, lets Obi-wan search his face for any sign of a lie, Obi-wan trailing the hand that had been on the back of his head to cup his cheek, thumb rubbing across Anakin’s lower lip. “I love you,” he says again, a little louder, his voice echoing into the cavernous hall. 

“You love me.” Obi-wan repeats back to him, almost a question, almost a statement. 

Anakin blinks a few times, trying to figure out if he had just massively messed things up by admitting it so carelessly, so impulsively. “Yes, I mean, it’s okay if you don’t…” he trails off, not wanting to even say it. “I mean, do you-” 

“Oh, Anakin, yes.” Even in the dark, Anakin can make out his brilliant smile, the gleam of his teeth, the twinkle in his eye. “I love you, of course I love you.”

The broad swaths of the curtains seem to open a little wider, the room a little brighter, air humming with energy, the whole room seeming to say ah, love, finally. 

Obi-wan sweeps Anakin off his feet, which is no small task given his build, and spins him in a circle, breathless with laughter, swept up in euphoria. If Anakin is the ocean, Obi-wan will drown with him. The music continues to play out of Obi-wan’s phone, but the pair pays it no mind, coming together for a giddy and messy kiss, giggling at their cold noses and lips. 

They’ll have the rest of their life to dance, anyways.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 8: The Light]

Hi y’all! Thank you so much for reading and supporting my writing. Each and every message/reblog/comment/etc makes me smile, and it’s a dream come true to get to share my work with you! 💜

Chapter summary: John shares a secret; Y/N excels at Scrabble; Brian makes peace; Roger suffers a misstep.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, medical stuff, pregnancy (not who you think!).

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

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Medicine teaches you to be fiercely skeptical of things that seem too good to be true. Bodies fail—completely and inevitably, though the timing may differ—and patients lie. Medical records don’t, fingerprints don’t, track marks up the underside of an arm don’t, blood and paternity tests don’t, oftentimes the eyes don’t; but given half a chance, people will lie themselves right into the grave.

Those bruises, doc? Got ‘em from a nasty fall down the stairs. I’m lucky I didn’t break my neck!

Nope, never done drugs, not even a joint, I swear on my mother’s life.

I’ll give it up, I’ll go to rehab. Never again. I promise. I don’t want to die.

Doc, I don’t care if the timing doesn’t seem quite right. My husband IS the father. There’s been no one else!

That doting fiancé is flirting with the nurses. Those grown-up children who fluff pillows and dab away tears are asking about the will. That wife is never going to testify against her abusive husband. That addict is going to relapse again...and again...and again. Are there exceptions? Of course. But if you get in the habit of trusting people—of believing all those tantalizingly attractive, hopeful lies—it’ll break your heart six ways to Sunday. There is no perfection in medicine, and there are very rarely miracles.

And so during those first few weeks with Roger—as you watch him from the reeling crowd, from the other side of the tour bus, from across the restaurant table, from the tiny viewfinder of the Canon F-1—you can’t stop searching for the cracks, the shadows, the lies, the dark malignancies breeding beneath the surface. Because everything about Roger Taylor is too good to be true. He’s bright and he’s loud and he’s brilliant and he’s always smiling, always warm. He careens backstage after every show—you keep bracing yourself not to be disappointed when the novelty wears away, when it ends, but it doesn’t—pushing aside roadies and reporters, shouting “Where’s the love of my life? Where’s my Boston babe?” with the most absurd grin you’ve ever seen until he finds you, collides with you, scoops you up and spins you in ungainly circles as your toes skim the floor. Then he cradles your face in his scarred hands and kisses you, breathes you in, tells you everything about the show (even though you were there to see it) in a rush of pure, manic adrenaline. And you stumble into some dressing room together—or a hotel room, or a taxi, or a limousine, or an elevator—and finally it’s your bare thighs his palms are gliding over, your tongue tasting the Heineken and craving on his lips, and it feels impossible for that to ever change. Roger is too good to be true, that’s undeniable; but when you watch him with those doubtful, cautious eyes, you can’t find anything but light.

He wakes up at 6 a.m. to join you on a bayou tour in New Orleans, taps his cigarette over the moss-covered sides of the boat, points out the alligators with leathered skin and ancient yellow irises lurking in the depths. He walks Fremont Street with you in Las Vegas and makes you choose his numbers for the Roulette wheel, for his fate. He snaps photos of you on a sun-drenched balcony in Miami, roaring cobalt waves crashing in the background. He takes you to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, the Art Institute of Chicago, the National Aquarium in Baltimore, the Philadelphia Zoo, Myrtle Beach and the Saint Louis Arch and the Santa Monica Pier. Because he was telling the truth when he said he could show you the world all those months ago when Queen was at Top of the Pops; he was telling you the truth about the list that’s etched into the rushing scarlet chambers of his heart.

When the American leg of the tour ends and the band gets a brief reprieve in London, you move into Roger’s paltry, disorganized flat and scrub away all the remnants of his past life: dust and empty cigarette boxes and women’s socks, ashes and copies of Vogue, a tube of lipstick that isn’t yours. You don’t complain, don’t even frown; you’re under no delusions that something eternal can be founded on resentment, on lies. And so you clear out the clutter and open the windows so sunshine and crisp spring air can breathe through the apartment, so you can both start fresh along with the bellflowers and delphiniums and roses and the tawny newborn ducklings scampering behind their mothers. You hang photos from the tour and John’s sketches on the refrigerator, place your Canon F-1 and pink conch shell from Ostia on the nightstand, litter the drawers with your own socks and makeup. You teach Roger how to sew (although he’s not much good at it) and how to treat blisters (although you’ll always be there to do it for him); and in return Roger teaches you how to trust, how to believe, how to stop searching desperately for faults in the light.  

On the second day of April, Queen boards their flight to Tokyo. Brian settles into a plushy, billowing blanket and loses himself in an astronomy magazine; he’s an engaged man now, an honest man in the eyes of society at large...and, far more importantly, his parents. Freddie pens lyrics in his notebook, humming disjointedly, napping like a cat when the mood strikes him. Roger snacks constantly and tries to get John chatting, but John is particularly subdued today, preoccupied, prone to gazing unfocusedly at the clouds that drift by outside and wringing his hands.

And you think, as you peer down into the glistening sapphire waters of the East China Sea: Brian’s a willow tree, Freddie’s a lightning storm, Roger is wildfire...but what is John?

Something deep, something beautiful and strong and constant and hidden.

The ocean, you decide as Queen’s private plane soars over the quicksilver waves that conceal the abyss. John is the ocean.

~~~~~~~~~~

“You didn’t have to stay, you know.”

John is lying on his back under a small grove of cherry blossom trees outside the hotel, sketching grey outlines of petals and arcing branches in a new notebook. He hasn’t given any sign that he heard you coming, doesn’t turn his head to see you. You freeze, startled.

“How’d you know it was me?!”

“You have very distinct footsteps. Dainty, yet purposeful.” He sets aside his notebook and sits up, crossing his long legs. “Why didn’t you go to lunch?”

“Because you didn’t. You turned down ramen, and you never turn down ramen. I was worried. Plus someone has to make sure a roving posse of screaming Japanese girls doesn’t carry you off.”

That makes him laugh. The Japanese fans are inexplicably obsessed with John; or maybe it’s not so inexplicable, maybe they just have a better eye for quiet, unassuming wonders. “Always so thoughtful.”

You sit down beside him, open a pack of chocolate-flavored Pocky and offer John a piece, frown when he lights a cigarette instead. “That’s really bad for you. Seriously. You should quit.”

“At last. One thing you and Brian agree on.” He exhales a gale of smoke and peers up at the cherry blossoms.

“John?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t break up with Veronica, did you?” Chrissie and Mary didn’t mention anything about her tearful devastation, and you suspect they would have had John gone through with it.

He sighs. “I did not.”

“And...are we feeling...okay about that...?”

He twirls the cigarette nervously between his fingers. After a silence, he surrenders. “Look, I haven’t told anybody yet, but I’d tell you first anyway. So here it goes.” He glances over at you guiltily, gloomily, wishing he could disappear. “I didn’t break up with Veronica because she’s pregnant.”

Your jaw falls open. A half-eaten stick of Pocky rolls out of your mouth and onto the grass. She’s what? She’s WHAT?

“Please don’t be disappointed,” John pleads. “I’m disappointed in myself enough for both of us, believe me.”

“I...I...I’m not disappointed, John, I’m just...” You blink at him. “Oh my god.”

He nods, acquiescent. “I’m in complete agreement.”

You shake your head, gaping at him, stunned; and suddenly you don’t like what you’re feeling at all. Because it isn’t just shock and horror, it isn’t just apprehension. You hate the thought of him touching her, of her delicate white hands on him, of innocence stripped away and memories impressed into muscle, into soul.

Because you know she’s not right for him. Because you know he doesn’t love her the way he should. Because you want the best for him and always have.

Oh, there’s a comforting rationale; but is it true?

And then: You fucking hypocrite. Since when do you get an opinion on who anyone sleeps with?

“It must have happened in January,” John says miserably. “Right before we left for the States. She didn’t want to tell me over the phone...I guess maybe she thought if she did I’d never come back. So she told me as soon as I landed in London. And here we all are.”

You stare down at your shoes, trying to compose yourself. “What are you going to do?”

“There’s only one option.”

“Actually, there are quite a few. But I know you’d never consider them.” John’s father died when he was ten, and he never talks about it; which is precisely how you know it’s a wound that can’t ever heal, a gash that goes straight down to the bone. He would never leave his child, never banish them to some dusty, repressed corner of his consciousness while he moves on with a blissfully unencumbered life. You whisper: “I’m so fucking sorry, John.”

That snaps something in him, something he was choking back. He buries his face in his hands. “What the fuck am I doing?” he moans. “I’m twenty-three years old, I’m broke, I turned down loads of jobs, good jobs, as an electrical engineer, I’ve somehow become the bassist in an increasingly famous rock band...I mean, how the hell did this happen? How did any of this happen?”

“It’ll be okay,” you insist with newfound resolve. I have to save him. I have to protect him.

John rolls those soft greyish eyes, hopeless, distraught. “Sure.”

“It will be, I promise you. The tour is going great. I had my doubts about the band when I first met you, I’ll admit it, I didn’t know if there was a future for Queen. But you’ve made me a believer. You’ve made millions of people all over the world believers. The money will keep rolling in, Queen will finally start seeing some of it, you won’t be broke forever. You’ll have two more months on the road and then we’ll be back in London, and it’ll be on to recording the next album, more shows, more money...the hard times are almost over, John. You can do this. And I’ll help you.”

His brow furrows. “You will?”

“Of course. If it’s easier for Veronica, it’ll be easier for you. So I’ll be extra friendly, take her to appointments when you’re busy, help organize the wedding, babysit the littlest Deacon whenever she needs me to. We’ll get through this. I’ll be there to help every step of the way.”

“You’re happy, aren’t you?” he asks suddenly. “You and Roger. You aren’t going anywhere.” He’s reading you closely, sifting through your words and forced smile for something deeper.

“I’m happy,” you assure him. “You don’t need to be concerned about that. I’m staying with the band, I’m staying in London. Whenever Queen is home, that is.”

He nods, but perhaps that wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. He finally accepts a piece of Pocky from you and takes a bite. “Then I guess we’ll plan for a summer wedding.”

“You could do a double one with Brian and Chrissie.”

He laughs so hard he almost inhales the Pocky, then doubles over coughing. “I think Bri would rather slit his own throat, but a charming thought. Thank you for that. Bravo.”

You smile at John, genuinely this time. “You’re going to be an amazing father. I hope you aren’t worried about that part of it, at least.”

“Will you be their godparent?”

“What? Me?!”

“Yeah. Because, you know...” John averts his gaze. “You’d be the person I would want to raise them if something happened to me and Veronica. You’re the most dedicated, stubborn, capable, nurturing, remarkable person I’ve ever met. You’re my best friend. And maybe Roger’s your best friend and you’re his, and that’s all fine, that’s alright, but you’re still mine.”

“Roger is a lot of incredible things, but he’s not my best friend.” You lie flat on the grass and lace your hands behind your head, tracking the weightless snowy clouds as they float by above. When did we become adults? When did all of these rules catch up to us? “I would be honored to be your child’s godparent.”

John plops down beside you. “Don’t tell the others yet, okay? I want to wait until the tour’s over. I don’t want them to panic and think I’m leaving and try to replace me or anything.”

“They wouldn’t try to replace you, John.”

“No?” he asks doubtfully.

“No. Roger knows it, Fred knows it, I think even Bri knows it.” You reach out and weave a lock of his hair through your fingers as cherry blossom petals tumble in the breeze. “You’re irreplaceable.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Sod,” Freddie mocks. “That’s the best you could do? Really? Sod?”

Roger flings up his hands in frustration. “Freddie, I’ve got like a million Cs!”

“You could have done cod,” Brian notes, sipping a cup of hot tea. “Cods, actually.”

Roger glowers down at his Scrabble tiles. “Fuck.”

“And I’m so delighted he didn’t!” You place your tiles, expanding on sod to make rhapsody. John high-fives you and records the points in his notebook. Freddie and Brian groan in defeat.

“What the hell is a rhapsody?!” Roger snatches the Official Scrabble Dictionary off the table and flips through it.

“It’s a, like a...” Freddie waves his cigarette, scattering smoke through the air. “It’s like an epic poem. Or an opera. With lots of bizarre, different parts all pieced together.”

“That sounds made up.”

Freddie cackles. “Darling, it’s a real thing, I swear!”

Roger locates the pertinent page in the Scrabble Dictionary and his shoulders slump. “Goddammit. Fucking...too smart...nerdy...college-educated...girlfriend.” He drags you into his lap and kisses your temple. “You’re lucky you’re cute. I don’t usually tolerate being conquered like this.”

Bri smirks from behind his teacup. “I rather think you conquered her, Rog.”

“Oh, a rare good one from Bri!” Freddie trills as everyone laughs, although John soon busies himself with clearing empty bottles and cigarette butts off the table.

“Yes,” Roger agrees. “Against her superior judgment, I finally won her over. Only took eight months. Which is approximately...wait, let me count...seven and a half months longer than it has ever taken me before.”

You trace your fingertips across his stubbled cheeks, his soft lips, his little dark blond tufts of sideburns. “No one knows how to say no to you, do they?”

“It’s impossible. I’m too charming. Blindingly heroic. Perseus in the flesh.” He kisses your forehead and steadies you, his hands on your waist, as the brakes squeal and the tour bus lurches to a halt.

Freddie leaps to his feet and claps. “Alright, darlings! Off to the new digs we go. Deaky, hand me my shoes, they’re under the table...yes, right there...and toss over Brian’s hideous clogs as well.”

You help the roadies and the band drag luggage into the hotel (no small feat, as the elevator is out of order), unpack your toothbrush and hairbrush and a floral-patterned dress for dinner, giggle as you listen to Roger’s feral, raspy singing in the shower. It’s something about loving a car, how perfectly on-brand for him. Then Roger goes to fetch Freddie and John for dinner while you find Brian. Bri is collapsed on his bed in a striped t-shirt and jeans, freshly-washed and dewy, gazing up at the ceiling in a daze.

You tap gently on the doorframe. “Bri? You want to join us for dinner? There’s a sushi place a few blocks away that’s a local legend, apparently. Lots of veggie options too.”

He looks over at you. You haven’t spoken about the argument since you had it two months ago. Brian sometimes grimaces or smirks or rolls his willowy viridescent eyes, but he never says anything; not to you, and not to Roger as far as you’re aware. “I’m sorry,” he says simply. “I may have been out of line before. Incorrect, even.”

“No need to apologize, Bri. I’ve forgotten all about it.” You haven’t, but there’s no reason for Brian to know that.

“I just want what’s best for you. For you to be happy.”

“I know, Brian.” You cross the room and take his long, moon-white, artful hands in your own. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ll be in the wedding party, won’t you? I know Chris will ask.”

“Of course. And I’ll proudly wear whatever dreadfully tacky and uncomfortable bridesmaid dresses she picks out.”

“Even if they’re a frightful shimmery green?”

“Oh god.” You swallow noisily. “I’ll still do it. And then burn the photos.”

Brian chuckles as he climbs out of bed. “In a stroke of luck, I suspect she’ll ask you to take the pictures. So you can avoid being in them as much as you’d like. And conveniently lose the unflattering ones.”

You study him thoughtfully. “Are you happy, Brian?”

“I am. Chrissie’s excited, my parents are thrilled, they’ll be sitting in the front row with the proudest smiles you’ve ever seen. Next comes a proper house, and children, and all the rest of it.” But something in those mellow olivey eyes is resigned, melancholy. His words from two months ago echo in your skull: It’s necessary. It’s self-preservation. Because sometimes the people who set us on fire would burn us alive.

“Do you still think about New Orleans?” you ask softly. About the woman he’d fallen in love with there before you ever met Queen, about the utopian passion he never quite stops searching for. Everyone has demons, secrets, shadowy trenches like cracks in porcelain; you’ve learned all about Brian’s. What about Roger’s? What about mine?

He shrugs, staring out the window at the dusky skyline of Yokohama. “Maybe I’ll always think about New Orleans. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have to grow up and start taking responsibility.”

“Responsibility,” you reply cynically, before you can stop yourself. “Is that all love is about anymore?”

“Not for you. Not for Roger. You both want your freedom, your adventure, your true and uncomplicated love. And you’ll get to keep it.”

For now. But you don’t say that. Instead, you smile appeasingly and gesture for Brian to follow you out into the hallway.

The others are waiting by the door to the stairwell: John in a smart grey suit, Freddie in his black-and-yellow jacket, Roger in sunglasses and a ridiculous leopard-print vest he’d dug out of a trashcan somewhere and precariously tall boots.

“At last, Nurse Nightingale and my darling Brian!” Freddie chirps. “Come on, I’m positively famished, and also I’ve bet five pounds that I can consume more sake shots than Roger and I could really use the dough.”

Roger pushes through the door, leading the way. “Prepare to lose!”

“Roger, please,” you implore. “New livers don’t grow on trees, and I can’t give you half of mine. I’m the wrong blood type.”

Roger laughs as he bounds down the steps, then whirls to grin up at you as he walks backwards. “Relax, Deaks will share! You’re type A, aren’t you John—?”

Roger’s heel slips and he plummets down the flight of stairs. He tumbles as the four of you shriek in horror and bolt after him, slams into the wall of the landing, ricochets off of it and plunges down the next flight as well. There’s blood, you think frenziedly as you descend, screaming Roger’s name. There’s blood all over the steps.

Roger, crumpled on the maroon-streaked landing, slowly unravels and groans. He glances down, appraises himself, then hammers his left fist against the concrete wall of the stairwell, roaring in raw agony and rage. “No no no no no no!”

“Roger—!”

And then you see it.

Roger’s right arm hangs uselessly, unnaturally, his snapped radius bloody and splitting through the skin.

[cutaepatootie]

Animal - 09 | FINAL

Pairing: Jungkook | Reader Genre: boxer jungkook | angst | tiny bits of fluff and humor Word Count: 15k

Warnings: implicit sex, explicit descriptions of violence, blood, character death (ups), really realistic and gore descriptions, dark themes as drugs, gangs, police getting involved... This is one of the darkest things I’ve ever written, please be careful and if you don’t feel good reading those things... Skip them, please.

A/N: Today is my birthday and as my gift to you... Here you have it, the final chapter, I’m not ready, Animal is my baby, I don’t wanna say goodbye but... The time has come. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for joining me in this long journey. Lots of love!

 previous chapter ← 09 | final chapter

It felt weird, the fact that after two months, everything felt normal again.

Having Jungkook with you every night, falling asleep in his arms and waking up buried beneath his body – the boy moved so much in his sleep you could swear one day he was going to suffocate you – it all felt so normal.

You hadn’t talked about the final wrestling match again and you just hoped he would make the right decision.

The final day of your practices at the hospital, was a sad day, having to say goodbye to all your patients and all the people that had become your family, the ones that had taken care of you and the ones that had taught you so much, but it had to arrive, and you had to say goodbye.

You brought one of your carrot cakes and you all ate it while you laugh remembering the different anecdotes you had lived. You couldn’t wrap your mind around the idea that, in just a few months, you would be working as a nurse instead of studying as one.

You tried to make the most out of everything. The last time you entered the equipment room, the last time you walked down the corridor of your floor, greeting patients and their family. The last time you got on the elevator, changed clothes inside the changing rooms, somehow remembering Jungkook as you stared at a certain wooden bench. In there, he had sat while you sewed up his brow after his car accident. It was when he had asked you to go out with him, just as friends of course.

You smiled, thinking how much things had changed since then.

In love…

Two small words, but fuck, how much meaning they held.

You walked out of the hospital that Friday night, smiling as you walked away from your student life. You were going to graduate on Sunday, fuck.

Your mother, grandparents and your aunt had traveled to the city to attend your graduation and they were staying at a hotel not far from your campus. You had been there with them for lunch that day.

As you opened the door of your dorm, still smiling like a silly girl, you started smelling something familiar.

You frowned, closing the door behind you. The room was dark, but it smelled like… Cheese?

You switched on the light to find Jungkook lying on your bed, a family sized pizza by his side as he smiled brightly at you.

“Congratulations, nurse Y/N,” he smirked.

You smiled widely and approached him, leaving your things on the floor.

“I haven’t graduated yet, so technically I’m not a nurse yet,” you said. “Would you put your life in the hands of this semi-nurse?”

“I’ve already done it, and it has turned out pretty good,” he pointed at himself.

You laughed and sat on the bed.

“Is it from Pizza Planet?”

“Of course, do you think I would buy you pizza from a place that wasn’t Pizza Planet?”

You chuckled again and punched him in the arm.

“You better not if you want to win your way to my heart.”

“Oh, c’mon,” he said in a dramatic way, throwing himself on your lap. “I’ve already won that long time ago.”

You punched him in the arm.

“Don’t push it, Jungkook,” you grunted. “I can kick you out of my room and spend my night alone with this pizza… Doing nasty things.”

“Oh…” he hummed, lifting himself up from your lap. “Would you do nasty things without me?”

“Mhm,” you nodded.

“What a nasty girl,” he purred.

And then, kissed you like he had been kissing you all week. With passion, with playfulness… With love.

You spent the night alone in your small room, sitting on the bed with the pizza in between you, soft music playing on the background and only your fairy lights lighting up the room. You talked and laughed, you showing him some video you had seen on Twitter that had caused you to almost peed yourself. Of course, Jungkook had to be extra and had to copy the video, dancing to Take on Me with a pair of ugly glasses you had hidden somewhere in your room while you recorded him and cracked up like a mad woman.

“I’m literally crying,” you said in between gasps, your stomach hurting from all the laughing. You wiped a tear away from the corner of your eye dramatically as Jungkook laughed – in that beautiful high-pitched laugh he made when he found something really funny – and approached you.

“Lemme see,” he said, grabbing your phone as he plopped down on the bed by your side.

The both of you laughed until the girl whose room was right next to yours knocked on the wall, letting you know that you were disturbing her.

You clasped a hand over your mouth to muffle your laughs. Jungkook hid his face on your pillow, but from how his body was shaking, you could see he was still laughing.

“Stop laughing,” you protested, your laughs dying down as you sat on his lower back. “If she knocks once again, then I won’t be able to protest ever again when she makes a noise.”

“Why do you care?” he said, lifting his head from the pillow and craning his neck so he can stare at you. “You’ll graduate on Sunday.”

“Yeah, but I’ll live here until I find a good apartment and a job as a nurse!”

“Whatever, it will be summer and no one cares about noise in summer.”

You rolled your eyes. “You say this because you don’t live here.”

He arched his brow and, in one swift movement, pulled you away from him and laid on his back, placing you back on top of him.

“You could just move in with me.”

You arched a brow back.

“What do you mean?”

“What does ‘moving in’ means?” he teased you, pinching your sides.

Your heart skipped a bit. Just the thought of waking up in that fluffy bed, under the sunlight that seeped from those big windows and seeing the mass of wavy, bed-hair that was Jungkook made your tummy jump.

“Isn’t it a bit soon for that?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “If I get tired of you and your obsession with order and tidying, I will kick you out.”

“Hey!” you pouted.

“But I’ll wait to kick you out until you have enough money saved to rent your own apartment, I’m not that cruel. What do you think about it?”

“Hmm… Let me think,” you placed your index finger and thumb on your chin, as if you were deep in thought. “I could enjoy a house that has more than one room… Your big TV is a pro too, and the shower, the bed…”

“And me?”

“You’re a con, definitely.”

He gasped and grabbed your sides, pushing you onto the bed and rolling on top of you. He started tickling you as you fought against him.

“Ah!” was the only thing you could say in between the laughs that erupted from your throat. He had always used your tickly skin against you, and you suddenly had a déjà vu, to a night you had been in your old apartment, debating whether you should play Mario Kart or Overwatch. Of course, he won, and you ended up playing Overwatch – which you hated because he always won you.

“You’re the biggest pro of them all,” you whispered in his ear.

The tickles soon turned into kisses and the screams into moans.

You could hear the girl in the room next to yours knocking on the wall, but neither of you cared, muffling your laughs with each other’s lips.

. . .

“Oh my God!” your mother gasped as she saw you emerging from your dorm building. “What a stunning daughter I have!”

She brought her hands to her mouth as she walked towards you to hug you.

“You only call me stunning when I wear make-up,” you chuckled, hugging her back.

She broke the hug, her hands on your shoulders as she eyed you up and down.

“Don’t lie,” she pouted. “Your father and I did a great job!”

You laughed and walked away from her and towards the car, greeting your grandparents and your aunt, who was sitting on the driver’s seat.

On the way to your campus, you were trembling, so nervous you couldn’t stop bouncing your leg up and down. Your lilac suit was making you sweat, so you took the blazer off, leaving you in your black crop top and the lilac pants.

You were nervous because that day was the last day of your life as a student, it was the door to your adult life. You were so used to going to class, or to practices, studying, preparing for the final exams… That you were afraid you wouldn’t know what to do without all that. You were nervous because you didn’t know how to walk with high-heels, and you were wearing a pair of black sandals taller than a pencil, you were sure you were going to trip on the stairs as you got on the stage once you heard your name in the big theatre hall of your campus.  You were nervous because of a lot of things, but there was one that stood above the rest.

Jungkook.

That same night would be the final match of the wrestling season, and ever since you had sort of reconciled on Monday, you hadn’t spoken about it again. You didn’t know if he would fight or if he would stay at home. You had given him an invitation to the party that your classmates were throwing after the graduating ceremony, but he had just kept it in the back pocket of his jeans without saying a thing.

You closed your eyes and hoped that, whatever the decision Jungkook made was the right one.

Evey looked beautiful in her baby yellow dress, her long hair curled and falling down her shoulders softly. You nearly cried as you hugged her, you had gone through so much together… It was hard to believe that you were the same girls that had met four years before as you were trying to buy some snacks from the broken vending machine in your campus. It took you three lost coins to realize it was broken.

You clapped like crazy when her name echoed around the theatre hall and she did the same when it sounded yours. In the end, you didn’t trip with the stairs and you grabbed your diploma looking classy in your lilac suit.

You weren’t going to lie, you enjoyed the cocktail after the ceremony, and tried to make the most out of it with your family and your friends, but you were a bit out of it.

It was nine pm, in only one hour, the fight would start. It meant that, if Jungkook had made the decision of fighting, he was already there.

“Hello,” you heard a soft voice say.

Your aunt stopped talking and you turned around, a small sandwich in your hand, to see Evey awkwardly smiling at your family.

“Hey, Evey!” your mother smiled at her, hugging her. “Congratulations sweetheart, I’m so proud of the both of you.”

“Thank you,” she hugged your mother back, all smiles.

“Are your parents here?” your mother asked when they broke the hug. “I haven’t seen them.”

“Oh,” Evey said, turning around to point somewhere in the crowd. “Yeah, they’re there with my brother and my grandparents. They asked me about you too.”

“I’ll greet them later.”

“They’ll love it,” she smiled kindly. “It’s been great seeing you today.”

She said goodbye to your family and grabbed your hand, leading you away from them so you could talk in private.

“What happens?” you asked, frowning.

“I’m going now… To the match, are you coming?”

She knew nothing about you telling Jungkook not to fight that match, she still knew nothing about all the shit Taehyung and Jungkook were into. But she did know that you and Jungkook had “sorted everything out”.

“You’re skipping the party?”

“Yeah, you’re not?” now it was her who frowned. “It’s a pretty special night for Jungkook.”

“I promised myself I would never go to another wrestling match and I’ll keep it,” you said, nodding with your head. “Jungkook knows I’m not going.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come? We can still go to the party when the match ends.”

You shook your head. “I’m sure,” you smiled. “Just… If you see him, tell me I wish him the best of lucks.”

“Alright,” she shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll se him tonight anyways,” she wiggled her brows. “If he loses you can always comfort him, and if he wins, you can always celebrate with him… You know.”

“You can be sure of that,” you playfully said.

“Oh whoa! Y/N admitting she’s going to have sex with Jungkook… We’re witnessing the rise of a new era, everyone.”

“Things change, people evolve…” you laughed.

She laughed with you and hugged you. You held her tightly to you.

“We’ve done it, Evey,” you whispered.

“Yeah, against all odds, we’re fucking nurses.”

When you broke the hug, the both of you had tears in your eyes.

“We’re fucking weepy nurses,” you added.

“I don’t know what the future will bring to some crybabies like us,” she laughed.

“I don’t know either, Evey, but I know we will be happy as heck.”

“Yeah!”

“Just… Don’t marry Taehyung too son, will you? I mean, wait for a couple of years or something…”

She punched you in the arm.

“I love you,” she said, hugging you once again.

You smiled, hands caressing her back.

“I love you.”

You don’t know how much time you were there, hugging each other, you just know that every single memory you had with her flashed before you in that moment.

You patted her ass, breaking the hug.

“Go before you ruin my eyeliner, I spent an hour doing it,” you said.

“It’s already ruined,” she said, sticking out her tongue to you.

You brought your fingers to your eyes.

“Just joking!” she laughed, making you glare at her.

“I’ll kill you if you don’t disappear right now!”

“Alright! Alright!” he laughed, starting to walk away from you, towards the exit of your campus. “Let’s meet tomorrow for coffee!”

“I hate coffee!”

“I know!”

She waved at you and you remember her smiling face, and how pretty she looked in her flowy baby yellow dress as you watched her disappear.

. . .

You couldn’t keep your eyes away from the main entrance of the bar you and your classmates had rented for the party.

You had texted him the address an hour ago, but he hadn’t even seen it. You just hoped he hadn’t seen it because he was busy watching some TV, not because he was on top of a ring punching another boy.

“Here you have!” Mara cheerfully said, already drunk as heck. “Cheer up, girl! I know adult life sucks, but don’t let it get the best of you!”

You smiled softly, grabbing the drink she was offering you and thanking her.

You knew it was a special night, your graduation party, but you couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t Jungkook in that moment. Had Evey told him you wished him good luck? Was Evey seeing how he punched Jiwon over and over? Or was it the other way around? Jiwon punching Jungkook again and again?

Images of blood running down Jungkook’s nose filled your mind, his broken lip and bruised cheeks. You just couldn’t stand it.

Taking a long sip from the drink Mara had given you – and that you didn’t even know what the fuck it was made of – you finished the whole beverage, grimacing at the bitter liquid running down your throat.

You were sitting on a chair placed by the wall, not too far from the dace floor, where your friends where laughing and dancing, all drunk and happy. You envied them, you wished you could feel as lightheaded as they did in that moment, no other concern than having fun.

The lilac blazer rested on the back of your chair, and a bitter expression adorned your face. You knew you must be looking like the life of the party in that moment.

Leg bouncing up and down to the rhythm of the sound that was playing, your eyes travelled to the main entrance once again.

Nothing.

You could just go to the dorm and wait there, because you were going crazy.

After standing from your chair, you waved at your friends.

Mara frowned and approached you.

“Are you going already?!” she said, raising her voice so you could hear her above the loud music.

“Yeah, I’m a bit tired and these fucking heels are killing me.”

“Oh, what a shame,” Alfredo pouted, another one of your friends. “There was a really cute boy asking for you just a couple of minutes ago.”

You frowned. “Who?”

“Dunno, his face looked familiar but I don’t know where I’ve seen him before.”

“Where was he?” you asked, voice high-pitched.

You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but…

“Near the bathrooms, two minutes ago.”

“Alright, thanks!” you said, leaving your empty glass with them and making your way around the crowd so you could get to the bathrooms.

There was a small staircase leading down to them, and, as you stood before it about to start climbing it down, your eyes met a pair of black ones.

A pair of eyes you knew too well.

“You came,” you breathed, frozen in place.

“Yeah, but I was starting to think you hadn’t.”

You eyed him up and down. Jungkook was looking beautiful dressed in a black suit, white t-shirt with its first buttons undone. Classic yet breathtaking. His wavy, long hair fell on top of his forehead beautifully, parted a bit on the middle to allow him to see what was in front of him.

“How couldn’t I?” you laughed. “This is my graduation party.”

It wasn’t until you felt something warm rolling down your cheek that you noticed you were starting to cry. You brought one hand up to wipe the tears away.

“Hey,” he whispered, climbing up the final stairs and approaching you until his arms were around you.

He let your hand fall to your side and started wiping your tears away himself.

“Why are you crying?”

His voice was so soft and melodious that you couldn’t help but cry even more. It was the first time you were letting yourself fully cry in front of him, and you were just as confused as he was.

“I-I…” you stuttered. “I don’t know, I just can’t believe you’re here, I was so worried…”

He smiled softly.

“Well, I’m here,” he said, his thumbs caressing the skin underneath your eyes. “And stop crying, or you’ll ruin your makeup.”

You didn’t give a single fuck about your makeup, to be honest.

“Fuck my makeup,” you scoffed, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him against you, caging him in between your arms.

For once, you could finally breathe.

Did all that mean that he hadn’t fought? He surely didn’t look like it… Did it mean that…?

You broke the hug and grabbed both of his cheeks with your hands.

“Are you alright? You don’t have any wounds or –“

“I didn’t fight, didn’t even show up,” he said, interrupting your.

His words only made more tears appear in your eyes.

“Agh,” he protested. “Stop crying or this will look like a funeral instead of a graduation party.”

“They’re happy tears.”

“I don’t like seeing you cry,” he softly whispered, fingers wiping away the tears once again. “Don’t care if they’re happy tears or not. It breaks my heart.”

“Who is the sappy one right now?”

You teased him, sniffling as he finished cleaning your face from any tears that remained.

“I’m so happy you’re here right now.”

“I’m so happy I’m here with you right now,” he smiled. “I would have died if I hadn’t seen you dressed in this suit, you look so sexy I don’t even want to be here right now.”

You bit your lower lip.

“Can this stop? We look like one of those cheesy, romantic couples.”

“Ew, no,” he grimaced, taking a step back.

You laughed. You thought your heart was going to explode at any moment from how happy you were. He had listened to you, he hadn’t gone to the fight, he hadn’t fought against Jiwon. He had chosen you, his mother, a normal life, over all the violence and pain and danger.

You were whipped.

“Let’s dance,” you suggested, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the dance floor.

“Thought you didn’t dance,” he said from behind you.

“Once a year can hurt nobody!”

He laughed as you stopped walking and turned around to face him. People surrounded you, but it was as if you were the only ones inside the bar.

“Tell me, Jungkook,” you said, smirk on your face. “Did you buy that suit just for my graduation party?”

He smirked back.

“Maybe.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Maybe? I can already picture you going shopping, thinking about what suit should you buy for a graduation party. Would it be too inappropriate to attend in your usual black jeans and oversized t-shirts?”

He grabbed your lower back with one hand and pressed you against his.

“What does it matter? You’re going to take it all off by the end of the night,” he whispered in your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

You liked how that sounded. You were just about to tell him that, when the DJ spoke.

“Ladies and gentlemen! You better grab a partner because, what would a graduation party be without some slow dance!”

“Fuck,” the both of you mumbled at the same time.

You laughed loudly as you saw the fear in each other’s eyes. You hated dancing, even more, slow dancing.

Jungkook shrugged and offered you his hand.

“Once a year can hurt nobody, can’t it?”

You smiled and grabbed his hand confidently. The notes of a guitar started sounding and everyone around you stopped jumping and screaming and grabbed a partner.

“I hate this,” you growled, looking all around you.

“Me too,” Jungkook whispered in your ear. “But if we don’t do this I’m afraid we’ll catch their attention and they’ll kick us out of here.”

“Fuck, without even grabbing a couple drinks first?” you hasped, eyes wide as you leaned back to stare at him.

He nodded solemnly. “Without even grabbing a drink first.”

“We need to dance, then,” you said. “To convince them we’re one of them. That we’re romantic and cheesy.”

“We must dance.”

You smiled and placed your hands around his neck, arms resting on his shoulders as his hands found your lower back.

“I’ve never done this, so sorry if I step on you with my heels or something.”

“If you step on my feet with those killing heels I will have to go on a wheelchair for the rest of my life.”

You chuckled, muffling your sounds with the palm of your hand.

“Shh,” Jungkook shushed you. “If you laugh, they will see us! You have to act serious and in love.”

“What?” you scoffed.

“Serious and in love, remember,” he said, straightening his back.

You chuckled some more and then, closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Your fingers intertwined behind his neck, fingers grazing the strands of his dark hair.

When you opened your eyes again, you found those black, round eyes that somehow looked like the eyes of a cute anime character. Under the shitty lights of the bar, they were glimmering.

Suddenly you were really nervous and trembly, but you couldn’t avert your eyes away from his, as if he had some sort of magnetic pull towards you.

The only things you remember in that moment are the beautiful music and his dark eyes, as infinite as the night sky above you.

He pressed you a bit tighter against him, feeling each other breaths every time you exhaled.

From up close, you could really see him and admire him, and feel the luckiest person on Earth because, somehow, your path had crossed Jungkook’s in this infinite road that life is.

You weren’t nervous anymore, nor worried, you were just in love. Just like him. Two young people in love, dancing to a slow song in the middle of a crowded dance floor. Maybe there were other couples in love on the dance floor in that moment, but none of them shone like the two of you did, no one looked at each other like you did.

One of your foot accidentally stepped on one of his, and your eyes widened.

“Ups, sorry,” you said.

“Ouch,” he laughed, acting as if it hurt him more than it did. “Someone bring the wheelchair!”

Some people around you stared at him, scowl in their faces as he had interrupted their romantic moments.

You laughed and hid your face in the crook of his neck, resting your head on his shoulders.

As you closed your eyes, it finally felt like home. With his scent surrounding you, his body moving with yours as the music guided him, his hands holding you. You could spend the rest of your life like that.

Just the two of you, holding each other, loving each other.

It was funny, how at the beginning you had hated each other so much and had been sure you wouldn’t even touch him with a stick, and now there you were, wishing he would touch the entirety of your skin and that you would touch the entirety of his. Your paths had crossed, looking like it was another crash in the passing of time, but then, they had become parallel lines that walked together. Life really was capricious.

When the slow music turned into disco music, you grabbed some drinks and kept dancing like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t been dancing like two birds in love just seconds before. You joked around and ended with your heels in Jungkook’s hands as you jumped to the music.

He had carried you home on his back, the bar not too far from your door building. Your arms around your neck as you talked non-stop – blame it on the alcohol and your sore feet.

You still talked and laughed as he threw you one your bed and made love to you. That slow song was still playing inside your mind as he peppered kisses all over your naked body. You hummed the song as your fingers traced his skin just like the musician’s fingers had caressed the strings of his guitar as he sang the song. Jungkook had never felt so loved and full before.

The sex was a bit messy – since the both of you were in a state between drunk and ecstatic – clashing of teeth, bangs against the wall, you nearly ripping Jungkook’s shirt open, him tripping as he got out of his boxers and nearly falling on top of your desk… But it was the pure definition of the both of you, messy yet loving, passionate and young. Infinite as much as it was brief.

. . .

A deaf noise jolted you awake.

You were a bit disoriented as you sat on your bed, brushing the fallen strands of your hair away from your face. Rubbing your eyes as you opened them, you tried to understand what was going on and what had woken you up.

Your room was still dark, but you had let your blinds rolled up so the moonlight seeped in.

When your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you finally could make out what was going on.

Besides you, the bed was empty, the sheets unmade as if Jungkook had woken up in a haste.

“Just calm down and tell me what’s going on,” you heard the deep voice of Jungkook.

He was sitting on the floor, by the bed, back resting on its side as he held his phone to his ear.

You frowned a bit, who would call at 3 am?

“Joon, please, calm down, you’re freaking me out.”

You kneeled on the bed and crawled towards its side until you were behind Jungkook. He softly moved his head to the side, looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

“Tell me,” he sighed. “No, I’m with Y/N.”

A long pause followed his words, and suddenly, a thick silence filled the room.

A cry escaped Jungkook’s throat. It was so low you weren’t even sure if you had imagined it.

“W-what?” he gasped.

Confused, you sat on the floor by his side. His face was like nothing you had ever seen, contorted in pure pain and agony.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, this can’t be…” he hid his face in between his bent knees, his free hand pulling harshly from his hair. “This can’t be happening.”

“Jungkook…” you whispered, caressing his shoulder trying to comfort him.

“FUCK!” he screamed, startling you and making you pull your hand away from him.

He stood up, pacing around the room frantically. You stared at him, worry starting to seep through every limb, bone and organ.

“FUCK!” Jungkook kept screaming, sometimes sobbing in between screams.

Jungkook was crying.

“This can’t be happening, Joon,” he sniffled. “This can’t… Fucking hell! Fuck! FUCK!”

You stood up, but didn’t dare touch him in case you startled him or something.

“W-what happened?” he kept saying, tears rolling down his cheeks. “W-who did it… How?”

A long pause followed his words. You blinked a few times, heart aching for him, despite not knowing what exactly had happened. You just knew, that it had to be something really bad, for the way Jungkook was breaking in front of you.

“Where are you? No, Namjoon, I’m going. If you think I’ll stay here as if nothing hap – Can you let me speak?! I’m not going to stay here! Send me your location and I’ll go.”

You approached him. He had his forehead pressed against the wall, body completely rigid.

“I don’t fucking care what you all say or what’s best, I already let him down, I won’t let him down twice,” he growled. “Sent me the location.”

With that, he hung up.

He started shaking, and you, afraid that he was crying again, approached him. But once you did, you stopped yourself from touching him.

He wasn’t trembling because of the cries, he wasn’t even crying anymore, he was trembling in pure anger, fists clenched and eyes closed.

“J-Jungkook,” you stuttered. You hated the tremble in your voice, and you hated yourself for being scared of him in that moment, but that was exactly what you were, scared to the bone.

You had never seen him so angry yet so calm, not even during the fights.

“Jungkook, what’s wrong?”

You decided to fight against yourself and placed another comforting hand on his shoulder.

As soon as you touched him, he flinched away from you, opening his eyes and walking away from the wall as he breathed heavily.

“Jungkook…” you whispered. His eyes were red and puffy from his previous outburst, and he had his jaw clenched. “What is it?”

“Taehyung and Evey are dead,” he spat the words so suddenly, that it felt like a bucket of ice water had been thrown all over your body.

“W-what?” you stuttered, barely being able to form any word.

“Fuck, Taehyung and Evey are dead!” he screamed, making you flinch and cover your eyes.

No. It couldn’t be real. You must be dreaming, sleeping soundlessly by Jungkook’s side on your bed. In a couple of hours, when the sun was high up in the sky, Evey would text you and you would both go to your favorite café to order a coffee and some green tea.

It couldn’t be real.

Jungkook started pacing around the room once again, pulling from his hair, growling and crying all over again.

“No…” you were mumbling. “What?”

You were even gasping for air, like a fish out of water.

��They attended the match… You were right, it was a trap,” Jungkook mumbled. “They did it… Mr. Kang and fucking Jiwon, they did it! They killed my brother!”

You cried and pressed your hands further against your ears, refusing to hear him, refusing to acknowledge what was happening.

“No… Evey.”

“They all waited for me to appear for two hours, and when I didn’t, the match was called off and they all went home. Taehyung, Evey and the boys stayed there, trying to reach out to me, but to no avail, so they ended up leaving. Mr. Kang men followed Tae and Evey down to Taehyung’s apartment and caught them in there… Namjoon and Hoseok found them an hour ago because Tae wasn’t answering the phone.”

A shiver run down your spine. Flashes of Taehyung and Evey laughing together in Tae’s apartment, you telling them they were gross as they kissed and showed their love to everyone. Flashes of them on the sofa, Evey on top of him as he grabbed her hips with his large hands, eyes always shiny as long as they were looking at her. Flashes of them on the floor, blood spilling from their bodies and accumulating on the floor as their eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. One next to the other.

You gasped for air. You didn’t know when you had stopped breathing, but suddenly you had felt your lungs closing and your throat constricting.

You put a hand on the wall, stopping you from falling to the floor.

“Evey… Tae…” was all you could mumble.

When you lifted your eyes from the floor, you saw Jungkook putting his clothes back on, not even bothering to grab his blazer.

“W-where are y-you going?” you stuttered.

“I’m going to get those fucking bastards and make them pay for what they did.”

“No!” you said, throwing yourself at him. “No, please Jungkook, don’t do that.”

“Get off me!” he growled, pulling your arms away from him.

“Please, please,” you kept pleading, following him towards the door. “Don’t go there.”

“I listened to you before, I didn’t attend the match… And look where Taehyung and Evey are now! It should have been me the one who died tonight, not them.”

The mere thought of Jungkook dying made you want to throw up.

“Don’t go, please,” you kneeled on the floor, hugging one of his legs. “Don’t leave me. I can’t lose you too.”

“Let go of me, this is what I have to do.”

“Please.”

With a harsh pull, he pulled his leg out of your embrace.

“I have to do this,” he said, hand grabbing the doorknob. “I have to do what’s right. This is right.”

“They’re already gone, Jungkook, getting yourself killed won’t bring them back.”

“I don’t fucking care, my brother is dead Y/N, it’s as if I was dead too.”

“Don’t say that, don’t go,” you kept pleading. “Stay with me.”

“I can’t stay. Don’t come after me, please, stay here, it’s the only thing I’ll ask of you.”

“J-Jungkook,” you stuttered, blinking your eyes as the light of the corridor appeared and disappeared in mere seconds.

In the blink of an eye.

You stayed there, in the darkness of your room, kneeling naked on the old carpet. You were quiet, eyes glued to the closed door.

Darkness filled you, darkness surrounded you… And you wondered how things could change so quickly, when you had been feeling so full and giddy just hours ago.

Finally, you let out a sob, and then other, and the next second, you were crying on the floor, face hidden behind your hands.

He had left you with the same words that once made you wanted to leave. I can’t. I can’t love you. I can’t stay.

Both times you had pleaded him, to love you, to stay, and both of them, he had told you he couldn’t. What was it about the two of you that you wanted but couldn’t? Was it that you weren’t made for each other? He wanted to love you, but he couldn’t. He wanted to stay, but he couldn’t. You both wanted to be together, but you couldn’t, and each time you tried to go against those words, life proved you wrong and them right.

You feared your thoughts were true, you feared you couldn’t be with Jungkook. You feared there would be a time when he wouldn’t be part of your life anymore, a mere memory.

Flashes of Evey filled your mind.

Her with her radiant smile and comforting words, with those horrendous dramas she liked to watch, with her hot temper and big heart. Her, with her bag always full of extra pens she could borrow to you. Her, with her open arms and warm hugs. Her, with her head full of dreams and full of Taehyung. Her, in her flowy baby yellow dress in your graduation party.

“Yeah, against all odds, we’re fucking nurses,” she had murmured in your ear, radiant as ever.

She had always wanted to be a nurse, and she had told you multiple times how hard she had worked for it. She wanted to work at some hospital for some years before going to some country where aid was needed, she wanted to help those who needed it the most.

And now, she was gone, and the only thing that remained of her was the memory of her, in her flowy baby yellow dress walking away from you.

With thoughts of Evey, another thought appeared inside your mind. What if it was the last time you saw Jungkook too? What if you never got to see his beautiful face once again, or be gifted with one of his radiant smiles? What if you never got to hug him, touch him, smell him, kiss him again? What if you never got to tell him how much you loved him, and how proud you were of him?

The mere thought of that, sent bile to your mouth.

You stood up from the floor and grabbed your phone. You called the boys, one by one, but none of them answered.

You had some text messages from your family, telling you how proud they were of you and how much they loved you. But in that moment, it didn’t matter.

You opened Evey’s contact. She was offline.

You saw her profile picture. She was smiling, sitting on Taehyung’s lap. The both of them were laughing at something, his hands on her hips, her hands on top of his. You had been the one taking the picture months ago.

Rubbing your nose, you put on some clothes and sat on the bed, not knowing what to do.

Should you call Jungkook? Should you call… Who? Your family could do nothing but worry about you, you didn’t want to involve the police in case things got worse… You couldn’t do anything but sit there and wait. Wait, for Jungkook to arrive or for him to never come back, you never knew.

Tears dried on your skin and your head hurt so much you thought it was going to explode at any moment. Your lips were swollen, and your eyelids too, so much that it was almost difficult for you to keep your eyes open.

You don’t know how much time went by, you just remember staring at the window and seeing the colors in the sky slowly change, from a dark blue that looked almost black, to a beautiful cyan, to soft lilac hues with pink undertones.

Birds starting to sing and the city started to wake up.

And you were still waiting.

Your eyes had closed from tiresome and you had fallen back on the bed when you heard a knock on the door.

Immediately, you jumped on your feet and rushed to the door. Jungkook. Was it him?

Without even thinking twice, you opened the door, out of breath.

A dark shadow pushed you inside your room, grabbing you from the front of your t-shirt and slammed the door closed behind him.

“Hello, beautiful,” Jiwon smiled at you.

Your eyes widened in recognition, his face hidden beneath the shadows of his hoodie, but still, you could see a trail of blood dripping from his left eyebrow.

You opened your mouth to scream for help, but a gloved hand covered your mouth and no sound came from it.

With his other hand, he held the back of your head and pressed tightly.

“Hmpf,” you were protesting, trying to bite the skin of his hand but teeth only finding the leather material of the gloves.

“Shh, you don’t want t hurt me, don’t you? I thought we were friends.”

You couldn’t even think about defending yourself, it had all happened so quickly and you were so tired and drained… You were a limp puppet in his hands.

“Aren’t you going to delight me with your self-defense knowledge? What a disappointment… After all my brother told me I thought today would be fun,” he said, smirking wickedly as he slammed you against the wall.

His hand, still placed on the back of your head, absorbed the strength of the impact, but your back wasn’t protected by anything and you felt a sharp pain.

“Ah, did I hurt you?” he said. “Sorry.”

You had never seen that side of Jiwon. He looked just like his brother, a wicked version of him. His eyes looked shinier, almost as if he was crazy.

“I guess you’ll have to get used to it.”

His hands travelled once again to the front of your shirt and, before you could say anything, he was throwing you across the room, body falling against your desk with a loud boom. You gasped when you felt the edge of your desk hit your back, body falling onto the floor with another loud noise.

You tried to move away from him, crawling like a snake towards the door. Before you could move more than a couple of centimeters, he placed the thick sole of his booth on your lower back and forced you to stay still.

“Agh!” you protested.

He sat himself on your lower back in a swift motion and placed his hands on your mouth once again, in case you asked for help.

“See, as I don’t want to be worried about you being too loud, I’ll apply an easy solution.”

You heard him move, one of his hands retreating from your mouth. Some seconds passed and then, his hand was back on your mouth, this time shoving something inside. It was something that felt like a cloth, so big that you thought your jaw would dislocate. A metallic taste filled your mouth.

“Sorry it’s a bit dirty… I didn’t have time to wash it after going to your friend’s apartment…”

Your eyes opened wide in recognition and a wave of nausea hit you, gagging multiple times.

“Don’t worry, it didn’t touch them with it, I just used it to clean my hands from their blood.”

You gagged once again, tears filling your eyes. You felt as if you were going to throw up right there and you would choke on your own vomit, so you tried to calm yourself. Cold mind, cold mind Y/N, think please.

He grabbed your hands and held them behind your back with one of his, the other grabbing your hair forcefully and forcing you to lift your head from the floor.

“Oh, no, Y/N, why are you crying? Am I hurting you? No… I didn’t want this to happen, I swear, but each time you disappeared, you appeared back again like the little whore you are. You wanted to make Jungkook jealous with me, huh? Well, I must thank you for the act, you were truly helpful to me.”

He chuckled, the sound was a vicious noise to your ears.

“You brought me closer to him and made him weaker… Women always make men weaker for them, always find their easy spots. Pff,” he scoffed.

Suddenly, he slammed your head against the floor. You felt your whole head reverberating, the pain mixing with the headache being almost unbearable.

“My brother told you to tell Jungkook to show up at the match… He didn’t,” he slammed your head on the floor again, your vision becoming blurry.

When he felt your body relaxing underneath his, he let go of your wrists and stood up.

The back of his boot slammed against your side, a sharp pain echoing through your whole body. Black dots appeared in your line of vision, and the only thing you could see was the dusty floor beneath your bed and a pair of socks that you had left forgotten there.

You followed his movements with the corner of your eyes.

He began pacing around your room, looking at the decorations on the wall. He was so sure you were done, that he wasn’t even sparing you a glance.

You tried to move, but your limbs weren’t responding you. You clenched your teeth in frustration.

“I’m curious… Was he even going to show up? I didn’t know he was such a coward,” he waited for you to answer, but when he remembered you couldn’t, he cracked up. “How silly I am! You can’t talk!”

You growled when he looked at you, but he just shrugged and focused his eyes on the wall in front of your bed. There were polaroids of you and Evey all over the place.

The mere thought of him staring at her pictures just after what he had done to her…

“It’s such a shame, you know?” he began saying.

He was so absorbed in his own little word and full of arrogance, that was facing his back to you as he looked at the pictures without even worrying about him.

Well, you have underestimated me once again.

Closing your eyes tightly, you thought of Evey. Of her beautiful baby yellow dress stained with a deep crimson red right now. Of her body lying on Taehyung’s carpeted floor. You thought of her blood pooling beneath her body, staining too, the purple carpet. You thought of Jiwon standing before her, wiping his blood-covered hands in the cloth you now had in your mouth.

With all the strength that was still left in your body, you placed your hands on the floor and flexed your elbows. The cloth muffled your cries of pain, your side really hurt.

“That two young girls like you, with all their lives ahead of them, so pretty and full of future… Had to get involved with two guys like them and fuck everything up. Taehyung got Evey killed… And now Jungkook will get you killed too…”

You felt dizzy once you were crouched on the floor, but you knew there was no time to waste.

Supporting your body on the desk behind you, you grabbed the desk lamp that was in there with your other hand. A metallic old piece of shit you had protested a lot about, but that now, would come in handy to you.

With a strong pull from it, you unplugged it from the wall and held it in the air, above Jiwon’s head.

He didn’t have enough time to react only turning around, and before he could do anything, the lamp crashed with force against the side of his head. You heard a deafening sound and then, his body was falling backwards onto your bed.

Letting the lamp fall to the floor, you quickly shoved the cloth out of your mouth, nearly throwing up in the process.

Your body fell to the floor, resting on your hands and knees as you spat all your friend’s blood.

Your whole body was trembling, aching, and you were starting to black out from those sharp bangs your head had received.

You could hear Jiwon crying in pain and you were trying to stand back on your feet so you could rush to the corridor and ask for help, but you had spent all your energies in grabbing the lamp and smashing it against Jiwon’s head.

You felt him move, and wanted to move too, but you couldn’t.

Before you could even cry, he grabbed you by the hair and slammed your head backwards against the table. You felt cold spreading from where the table had hit you, to the rest of your head and neck.

Your back rested on the stack of drawers that formed party of your desk. You were gasping for air as you saw Jiwon crouching before you. You wanted to scream, now with your mouth free of the cloth. But still, you couldn’t say a word.

Your head fell limply to the side, and you felt Jiwon’s hand grabbing your chin and forcing your head to stay upright.

“You think you’re more intelligent than me, huh? That you will get out of this, huh?”

Blood was dripping from his forehead, and his grip wasn’t as tighter as he was before.

His hands travelled towards your neck.

“That first night I met you, of course I knew who you were… Word spreads fast,” his hands were barely caressing you, knowing you couldn’t make anything to pull them away from you. “I truly couldn’t understand why Jungkook had set his eyes on you, you looked so dull and ordinary… You would have never caught his eye. But then, you told me you were dressing as Hellboy, not Hellgirl, and when we spoke you had guts, sarcasm and were wity… Then, I knew why he had set his eyes on you,” he smirked, his hands tightened around your neck.

“The fact that you kept coming back to me each time was almost comical, you made me think you were another one of Jungkook’s hook ups, you know? Your attitude and that pettiness had made him want you, but once he had had you, I thought he would let you go. And surprisingly! He fell for you!” he started laughing, as if he had just made one of the funniest jokes he had ever heard. “Not even my brother believed me when I told him Jeon was in love with you! He didn’t believe me until he didn’t show up tonight.”

You started to feel your feet getting cold and numb. You wanted to lift your hands and reach for him, but you couldn’t.

You gasped for air.

“I must admit you’re pretty tough… What a waste of – ”

You knew he kept talking, but you couldn’t hear him. Just a buzzing sound and your head suddenly was too heavy for you to bear it.

The black dots appeared once again, and you fought to keep your eyes open. Your lids felt so heavy…

His lips kept moving, his hands couldn’t press tighter against your neck because he, himself, was fighting against his own body too. You could see it in the way his head swung sometimes.

You blinked. Saw the door to your room opening. Light seeping inside of it. A body entered the room. You blinked. Jiwon’s hands disappeared from around your neck, and your body fell limply against the floor, your head falling on top of one of your arms and amortizing the fall. You blinked. You could see a set of black shoes, covered in dots of crimson red. They looked familiar to you but you couldn’t remember where you had seen them. You blinked. Jiwon’s boots appeared right in front of the pair of shoes. You blinked, lids getting heavier and heavier. After a few seconds, Jiwon’s body fell limply to the floor, right next to yours. You blinked. You could see Jiwon’s face. His eyes stared blankly and lifelessly at you. You blinked.

Someone lifted your upper body from the floor, your head spinning from the movement.

You could feel your body shaking, or was that someone who had lifted you from the floor the one shaking you? You tried to focus your eyes but you couldn’t, everything was happening so slowly…

“… Y/N…” you somehow heard your name, but it sounded so distant… Almost as if you were under water. “Y/N… Please baby, stay with me…”

You tried to blink once again, but this time, your eyelids didn’t answer to you.

“… I can’t lose you too… Stay with me… I won’t be able to bear it…”

And then, everything went black and peaceful, frighteningly peaceful.

. . .

It was as if you had been asleep for a long time, except for the fact that your whole body ached and you didn’t feel rested at all.

The first thing you noticed was a familiar scent.

Something that smelled like antiseptic and cleaning products, like the alcohol you use to wash your hands.

It was something you had become familiar with.

Hospitals.

You made a great effort in opening your eyes, your vision blurry and cross-eyed.

The noises around you were familiar too. Beeps of the ECG and scratches of the small wheels of the medication carts against the floor.

You were in a hospital.

Finally, you snapped your eyes open, staring all around you, a bit disoriented.

“Oh my god, sweetheart,” you heard a soft voice say from behind you. “You’re awake.”

You focused your eyes on the direction of the voice, finding the face of your mother. She had a frown on her face, but looked somehow relieved. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her hair was disheveled and all over the place.

“Love,” she whispered, sitting on the armchair by your bed and placing a hand on your cheek. “You’re here with me…”

You frowned and closed your eyes for a moment, taking your time. Your body hurt, your head hurt, everything hurt, but there was a pain that outstood the rest, and it wasn’t physical. Your heart ached, it made you want to rip every single venous line you had in your body and scream at the top of your lungs.

Flashes of a yellow dress fill your mind, and then, images of blood and bodies lying on the floor.

“Evey…” you whispered.

Your mother brought a hand to her mouth.

“Oh, sweetheart… You know about Evey?” she asked you. You nodded softly. “I’m so sorry… What happened to her… We’re all heartbroken. For a moment I thought you’d have the same fate as her...”

You opened your eyes, your vision was blurry from the tears.

“You know what happened to her?” you asked. Your mouth felt dry and it was difficult for you to speak.

She nodded. “It’s horrible what happened to her and her… Boyfriend. Their parents didn’t even know she was dating someone. Apparently, the boy was involved with bad people and… Got Evey involved too.”

You looked away. It hurt to hear your mother talk about Taehyung like that. It hurt to think that Evey’s family were probably hating him now, blaming him for Evey’s death… But wasn’t him the one at fault for Evey’s death?

You clenched your fists in anger.

“Did you know she was dating that boy? That he was… Dangerous?”

Yeah, you had, and despite all the conversations with Evey, all the fights telling her he wasn’t good for her… You had caved in along with her and all of them. If you had been a better friend, if you had insisted more… If you hadn’t gotten involved too, maybe you wouldn’t be in that hospital room with your mother looking like she had spent a whole week crying. Maybe Evey wouldn’t be dead.

It was not Taehyung’s fault, he just loved Evey so much. You remember the pure fear in his eyes that night he told you about his and Jungkook’s business. How he had pleaded you to keep Evey out of all that. He just loved her and she just loved him. It wasn’t their fault.

But you should have been the rational one, convinced Evey that the boy wasn’t good for her and that the best she could do was ignore her feelings. And you had been… Until you followed her steps.

“No…” you breathed. It felt like you were betraying Taehyung a little, letting him be the bad one. “I didn’t know she had a boyfriend either.”

You looked back at your mother and she looked angry as she grabbed your hands with more strength, as if she was afraid you would just disappear.

“You have to be careful with who you get involved with, look what happened to Evey, look what happened to you,” she said.

“What happened to… Me?”

She caressed your knuckles “Those delinquents who… Did that to Evey, came looking for you thinking you would have some sort of information. They not only nearly killed you, but they killed a poor boy who came to defend you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Jungkook.

“A… A p-poor boy who came to defend me?” you gasped, you felt as if you were out of breath.

“His name was Kim Jiwon,” your mother nodded, closing her eyes as if feeling the pain. “He had been missing since he was ten, his older brother taking him away from his family. They came from a wealthy family, but apparently, the older brother was involved in some dark business and their parents kicked him out. He brought poor Kim Jiwon with him.”

Jiwon was dead… And they thought he was the good one?

You wanted to speak but bit your tongue. You didn’t know where Jungkook was or if he was safe, you didn’t want to risk his safety by asking about him.

Nothing in your mother’s testimony made sense, the reality you knew was another. Of course it could be true that Jiwon and his brother came from a wealthy family… But the fact that he was a good boy and that had come to your rescue? No. Maybe that was police wanted to make everyone believe so things wouldn’t get any more complicated.

“Those… Assholes, nearly took you away from me,” your mother said after a few seconds, snapping you back to reality. She threw herself at you on the bed, accidentally hitting your side and making you almost see black from the pain. You didn’t say a thing though, she had been worried enough about you. “I thought I was going to lose you. The doctors said you needed time to recover from the hits to your head and kept you sedated, they told me you would eventually wake up but that they didn’t new if there would be any consequences left…”

“How much time have I been… Here?”

“A week.”

Your eyes widened. “Grandad, grandma? Auntie?”

“They’re all home. Police called us just when we were about to return home. I bought them train tickets and told them that I would take care of you. I didn’t tell them how bad the wounds were, didn’t want to worry them too much… You already know your grandmother… But they asked me that you called them when you were feeling better, no pressure, you need to rest first and then we can call whoever you want.”

You nodded with your head. You wanted to talk about Jungkook. Where he was, if he was safe, if he was still alive…

You remember that voice before blacking out, it was his.

“Who found me?”

“Police did, a boy called them.”

“And they only found me in my room?”

Your mother frowned.

“I mean, was I alone in my room when they found me?”

“Well, yeah,” she blinked. “Except for that other boy. Poor soul… Did you know him?”

“Hmm…” you didn’t want them all to think Jiwon was a ‘poor soul’ and that he was the victim of it all. “I had seen him around before, he was always into shady things…”

“But police told us –“

“Police didn’t know him,” you cut her. “He was just as bad as the boys who did this.”

Your mother stayed silent.

“I’m so happy you’re back sweetheart,” she placed a kiss on your forehead. “But you should rest a bit now, you have two broken ribs and a strong head contusion.”

Ah, so that’s why your side hurt so much… It seemed like a miracle to still be alive after all the blows you had received.

“Alright,” you nodded with your head.

“I’ll call the doctor, tell her you’re awake.”

You nodded again.

She stayed all night with you. You watched her sleeping form on the armchair by your bed, you were so sorry for all the pain you must have caused her. You wondered if she had ever left your side once in the entire week you had been there.

You wanted to sleep, you felt so tired and drained, but you couldn’t. Your mind was full of thoughts of Jungkook. Your heart ached at the mere thought of something bad happening to him. He had clearly killed Jiwon… Fuck, he had killed someone, didn’t matter if that someone was Jiwon… He had his hands covered with his blood.

Just a week before you were running away from your graduating party with him, holding hands and laughing at everything that waited for the two of you. Now, you weren’t sure if there was even a ‘the two of you’.

It took you thirty minutes to convince your mother of the fact that, if she went to the cafeteria to have for once a decent breakfast and take a walk to clear her mind, you wouldn’t die.

She left after a thousand ‘are you sure?’, ‘keep your phone in the bedside table’, ‘if something happens call me and if you start feeling bad, call the nurses’.

When she left you alone, you sighed.

It was a lot to take in, and everything you thought about it, your head hurt.

You took the painkillers that the nurse had left on the bedside table for you. Now that you were awake, you didn’t need the saline solutions anymore, nor did you need to take all the meds via iv.

What if you called the boys? Would they tell you where Jungkook was, if he was fine? What if you called Jungkook?

You were there, your phone in your hands, when the door of your room opened.

Thinking it was a nurse, or your mother, repeating you if you were sure for the umpteenth time, you didn’t even spare a glance to the door. But you did once you saw the dark figure wasn’t moving.

Slowly, you lifted your gaze to the person who had entered the room, air disappearing from your lungs.

You didn’t even have time to say anything before he was running towards you and stretching you in his arms, face hidden in the crook of your neck. You could only lift your arms and encircle his torso with them.

You let out a long exhale of air. He was alive, he was there with you.

You started sobbing, ignoring the pain in your ribs and the pain inside your chest. He was there in your arms, and it was all that mattered to you.

“Y-you’re awake,” Jungkook breathed. “You’re alive.”

“You’re alive too, I-I thought I…”

He broke the hug and grabbed your face with both of his hands. You hadn’t seen him since he had entered the room, and you left a strangled gasp at the sight of his bruised face.

“Jungkook,” you said, hands coming up to caress his face. “Oh my God, what happened to you?”

Your eyes traveled across his face, hidden underneath the hood of his black sweatshirt. He had bruises all over his left cheek, covering the scar of the cut you had once sewed up. One of his eyes was swollen and covered in a yellowish tone, but from the look of it, it had been completely purple not to long ago. His once straight and round nose was curved on the bridge, an ugly cut on top of it. Your eyes ghosted over the scar.

“You didn’t go to the doctor? To anyone who could heal you?”

Jungkook grabbed your hand and pulled it softly away from him, only to grab your face once again and press his lips against yours, and then against your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose, your chin, the corners of your lips.

“I thought I had lost you too…” he murmured in between kisses. Another kiss to your lips. “I thought you wouldn’t come back to me, I… I felt like dying when I entered your room and found Jiwon on top of you… I-I…” his voice broke and you looked up just in time to see two thick tears rolling down his cheeks.

You covered his hands with yours, cradling your cheeks.

“Seeing you looking so pale… And so still lying in my arms…” he closed his eyes. “It haunts me every night.”

“But now I’m here, Jungkook,” you whispered.

He leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“You’re here…” he breathed, repeating your words.

“And you’re here too…”

He pursed his lips and you pulled your face away from his hands, trying to get a better look of his face.

“You need to see a doctor,” worried was laced in your voice as your eyes, once again, trailed his features.

He lowered his head and distanced himself away from you, hands still intertwined with yours.

“It’s okay, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, you’re nose looks like it’s broken. What happened to you? Where did you go when you left my room?”

“I shouldn’t have left your room, if I hadn’t, maybe…” he stopped himself.

“Maybe…” you said, trying to make him continue.

You tried to sit yourself up on the bed, but the pain in your side stopped you from doing so. Hearing your strangled cry, Jungkook lifted his eyes from the sheets of your bed and placed a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to lay back on the bed, the back of your bed slightly up.

“Maybe you wouldn’t be here right now and I wouldn’t have to…” he averted his eyes once again, lost somewhere beyond the window of your room, staring at the grey clouds that covered the sky. It looked as if he was deep in thought. You opted for giving him some time.

He took a deep breath, his face turned blank and you wondered what he was thinking about.

“I don’t have much time –“

“Why?” you interrupted him.

“I don’t have much time, I just heard the doctors outside yesterday say that you were finally awake and I wanted to see you but your mother was in here and I couldn’t. Your mother or anyone else can’t see me here.”

“Why? Why can’t they see you?” you said, frowning.

His eyes went back to yours. They looked dark and you felt like you were falling into the void when you stared at them.

“I wanted to see you,” he ignored your question. “Wanted to see you one last time and make sure you would be alright. I couldn’t stand the idea of not knowing if you’d be okay.”

“What do you mean with all this, Jungkook? You’re confusing me,” you closed your eyes as a dull pain started to fill every part of your head. “What do you mean with wanting to see me one last time?”

When you opened your eyes once again you felt small under his stare, under his dark eyes that were looking so intensely at you. He bit his lower lip, frowned, as if he was debating against himself.

“I have to go, Y/N,” he breathed, his voice barely audible and nearly blending with the sounds of the iv machine.

“Now? My mother won’t be back until –“

“I have to go to another city,” he interrupted you.

“Alright,” you nodded. “When you’re back I’ll probably be out of the hospital so –“

“No,” he interrupted you again, shaking his head. “You’re not understanding me. I’m going to another city. Forever.”

You stood silent after his words, only staring at him and breathing. Your eyes started to sting from the tears you had shed before and because you weren’t even blinking.

“F-forever?”

“Yeah,” he breathed.

“B-but, if you wait for me I’ll be able to go with you when the doctors discharge me.”

He smiled softly and brought one of his hands to caress your cheek. His eyes turned soft and he was staring at you almost as if he was… Sad.

“I cannot wait for you and I cannot bring you with me, you must stay here.”

Your eyes filled with tears.

“Why? I want to be with you.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“I want to be with you, Y/N, believe me, I want nothing more in this world than to be with you… But I –“

You shook your head and pushed his hand away from you, averting your eyes from his.

“Don’t say you can’t, don’t say that.”

“You know I want to be with you, that I’d love to spend the rest of my days hearing your laugh and seeing your smile. Teasing you and making you angry… But… But I can’t.”

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks. That was what you two were, wasn’t it? A constant I want but I can’t.

“Staying with you means putting you in danger… Again. It means forcing you to leave your life behind, your career, your family and everything you know and love.”

“I wouldn’t care if it all was for you.”

“But I would. I would care.”

“So what? After all we went through, you’re just going to disappear and leave me here?”

“Don’t say it as if I was abandoning you, please,” he said, lowering his voice and closing his eyes. You couldn’t imagine how much your words hurt his heart.

“And what are you doing, Jungkook? I want to be with you, there’s nothing else in this world that I want more. I lied for you, I hid the truth from my best friend for months, I put myself in danger for you… I’ve shown you how much I want to be with you. How much I love you… I don’t have a say in all this?”

Jungkook clenched his teeth. He wished those beautiful words had spilled from your lips in a different place, under different circumstances.

It wasn’t easy for him either. He wanted to be with you too. To see your pretty face every day when he woke up, see how you scrunched up your face when he pinched your nose to wake you up. To see your hair shining under the sunlight, contrasting with the white pillow. He wanted to eat pizza with you at night, to show you the world and hand it to you on the palm of his hand. He wanted to see you make your dreams come true and grow as a person. He wanted to make his dreams come true by your side and make you proud by growing as a person.

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t do all that because he cared about you too much.

Because he knew what he had done and what would happen because of that. He knew he could never give you the life you wanted… The life you deserved. He couldn’t promise you a normal life with a normal future, normal holidays travelling and seeing the world, normal family with children and peace. He couldn’t, and that killed him.

Above everything he wanted… He wanted you to be safe, and that could only happen if he stayed away from you.

He shook his head, eyes still closed.

“No when your life is involved.”

“I’d rather live a short happy life, than live all my life regretting not spending it with you.”

He shook his head once again. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Of course I know what I’m saying! Do you think I’m someone who speaks without thinking first? I’ve lost too many things to lose another one, you can’t do this to me.”

“Believe me Y/N, this was not my plan, this was not what I wanted…” he stared at you. “I wanted to make things right for once, do what was correct. I wanted to leave the world of fights and drugs and violence and all that behind, leave Sungho and Mr. Kang and all their shit. I wanted to become someone you could be proud of. I wanted to become a better person for my mother. I didn’t want this.”

“Why is this happening, then? What went wrong? You seemed so happy last week.”

“I thought I had everything under control,” he said, shaking his head. “I thought that, if I went to the police and told them everything about Sungho and Mr. Kang, everything would be alright.”

“You listened to me?”

“At first I thought it was stupid… But then… I started to think that maybe it was the only way out… I just happen to forget that Mr. Kang has men everywhere.”

“They told him what you wanted to do?”

Jungkook sighed.

“The agreement was that I would give them all the information I had about Mr. Kang and Sungho’s business, enough to send them both to jail and their closest men with a pretty good sentence. In exchange, they would reduce my sentence and Taehyung’s to a couple of years and grant us protection while in jail so Mr. Kang and Sungho’s contacts couldn’t reach us.”

You nodded, encouraging him.

“But Mr. Kang heard about my agreement and acted before it could come true. I handed the cops all the information I had, names, places, bank accounts… Everything… And then went to your graduation ball in hopes that they would act quick enough for them to capture Mr. Kang and Sungho before the fight had even begun… The cops never appeared, and… And when I heard they had killed Taehyung I went searching for Mr. Kang and his men. Killed Jiwon’s brother, then Mr. Kang,” he said, as if it was something normal. “Lastly I killed Jiwon.”

You gulped. You blinked a few times staring at his hands. They were clean, but you knew they were stained in blood, just like Jiwon’s had been when he came to your room.

“The agreement was to hand the police Mr. Kang and their men alive… So now the agreement is over, and they’re going after me.”

“You can tell them what they did, tell them that he had undercover men.”

“They already know.”

“And then?”

“They just don’t know who they are,” he sighed. “It’s not that easy Y/N. Having some gang after me… I could hide with the protection Sungho offered me. But hiding from the police, after betraying both gangs… Sungho is in jail now and I’m sure he knows I was the one who sold him out, I don’t have his protection anymore and I can’t let police get me. Justice won’t be soft on me, and without their protection in jail, I’ll be dead.”

“There has to be other way…”

“There is,” Jungkook nodded, once again grabbing your hand in his. “Disappearing. Going as far as I can.”

You shook your head and closed your eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling.

“Listen to me, Y/N,” he said. “Look at me, look at me please,” he told you. You softly opened your eyes. The sky outside was so cloudy there was barely any light in the room. “This is what is best now, this is making things right. I wish I had more time to say goodbye, maybe a last week with you or so, but I already risked being here for a week waiting you would get better. Now that I know you’re safe, I can go –“

“Jungkook.”

“Let me finish, please,” he said.

You nodded, swallowing all your tears bitterly.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. You’re also the most stubborn and insufferable person I know,” you both laughed at that. “But it has brought me to life. You and your hot temper and attitude and your strong character and your snarky remarks. You have brought me to life, and I have no words to describe how thankful I am.”

You smiled at him, or at least tried, because your vision was so blurry you could perfectly be staring at the window.

“You’ve made me, for the first time in a long time, want to be better, want to make people proud of me. I haven’t been able to do so in the end,” he scoffed. “But I’ve tried, I swear I’ve tried.”

“I know.”

He grabbed your face with both hands.

“And I don’t want you to cry for us, or to be sad about what could have been,” he said, shaking his head. “Because we made the most out of the little time we had together. I wished it would have been eternal, a lifetime length, but it can’t be. I would do it all over again, maybe I would change some things like kicking you out of my apartment that night you met my mother…” you turned serious and he laughed at your face. “But I would do it all over again if it meant being with you.”

“I would do it all too, Jungkook. You’ve turned my boring life into something exciting.”

“So exciting it nearly killed you.”

And there they were, those words he always said that made you laugh even if your heart was breaking into a million pieces.

You closed your eyes as you laughed. It was bitter, but it was true. You basked in the warmth of his hands, in the comfort of his presence.

“Will I ever see you again?” you finally opened your eyes and stared at him.

His eyes were shinny and wet, looking as round as the planet Earth. You swore he could hold the whole wide world in them.

“I don’t know,” he whispered.

“I’ll wait for you, Jungkook. I’ll wait for you to come back to me. Maybe ten years from now, maybe fifty… I don’t care. I’ll wait for you.”

He shook his head.

“Don’t,” he smiled. “I don’t deserve it. Be happy, live a full life. Adopt a puppy and call him Jungkook –“

“You know I would never do something as cruel to a poor puppy as calling him Jungkook,” you interrupted him, trying to turn serious.

He laughed and stared at you with adoration written in his eyes. He couldn’t believe he was about to leave the woman of his life.

“Okay, call him Four-Cheese Pizza,” he joked. “Buy a nice house and go to IKEA to buy furniture and steal as many small pencils as you can from there. Dance and laugh and meet people… Travel around the world, get to know every place and think of me in each one of them hugging you, kissing you or making you trip,” you punched his arm and he laughed. “And maybe, one day, we’ll find each other again.”

“Maybe one day…” you breathed, as if it was your own promise.

He sealed that promise with his lips, caressing yours with them until you started to feel dizzy and him, breathless. It was a bitter seal that held a sweet promise.

The promise that maybe, you would come across each other again, in some corner of this world. The same world that Jeon Jungkook held in his eyes as he walked out of your hospital room and stared at you with those beautiful, dark, almost animalistic eyes, for the last time.

Present day…

The girl blinks, hoping the man will continue talking.

When she does so, some tears escape from her eyes and roll down her cheeks. She quickly wipes them away, not wanting the man to see her cry and make him feel bad.

He doesn’t see, though, his eyes lost in the cloudy sky outside the window. She has finally convinced the man to raise the blinds so the room wouldn’t be as dark.

When the girl sees the man isn’t going to talk, she opens her mouth.

“And what happened after that? Did you go back to the city? Did you see her again?” she asks, not being able to stop herself.

She can’t believe their story ended like that, no wonder why the man is so bitter and nostalgic all the time. If she had a love like that, and she let it go, she would also be bitter and nostalgic, though the circumstances weren’t the best…

The man smiles softly and stares at the girl.

“I did,” he says. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and for the first time, she sees him looking tired and drained besides sad and bitter.

“A-and… What happened? You went back together? Was she waiting for you?”

The man laughs at the questions. The girl is curious. She reminds him so much of you…

“Seven years later, I received a call from Namjoon. We kept in contact every once in a while, careful not to get caught,” he says. “Sungho had been killed in a brawl inside the jail. Some of his men died with him too. It was finally safe to return to the city.”

The girl smiles, waiting for the man’s next words, eager to hear him telling her about how he saw Y/N again.

“After seven years I went back to that city, my house. It had changed so much. The problematic area was now a neighborhood full of young couples and students. The neon lights had disappeared, they weren’t trendy anymore. Minho’s club had been turned into a gambling building… I searched for her as soon as I stepped a foot in that place.”

The girl leans forward in her chair. She’s excited.

“She was now living in a modest neighborhood, nice apartment, she owned a car of her own. A nice Chevrolet. She worked at a hospital not far from her apartment. There were some flower shops nearby and a small shopping center. It took me two weeks to gather the guts to go to the hospital and wait for her near the parking entrance. I sat on top of a stone bench waiting for her evening shift to end. It felt like an eternity, but when I heard her laugh and saw her walking out of the hospital front door and towards the parking entrance, I knew it had been more than worth it. She looked…” the man stops, eyes getting lost in the distance. The girl swore she could see the girl reflected in the man’s eyes, she swore he was seeing her all over again in his head.

“Breathtaking. She hadn’t changed one bit. She had cut her hair and her face looked brighter, but besides that, she was the same girl I had left in that hospital room seven years ago. It took me everything not to run to her and kiss her… But I didn’t. I stayed there, watching her walk with her colleague, laughing and talking about everything. I stayed there and when they approached too much, I ran away. It was like that for a month. Sometimes it was after the night shift, sometimes after the morning shift. Sometimes she walked with someone, sometimes she walked alone. Some days it rained, other days, it was sunny. But I never had the courage to stand from that stone bench and walk towards her.”

The girl’s smile vanishes and her eyes turn sad.

“One day, I told myself it would be the day. I brought some flowers in the nearby flower shop, some beautiful sunflowers. I sat on that bench and told myself that I would get her, the woman of my life, that I would kneel before her and tell her how much I had missed her, how much I…” the man stops, and his eyes return back to reality. He returns to his hospital room, to his bed. His eyes turn sad once again. “But then I saw her smiling at her phone, looking so bright and… Beautiful… And images of her in that hospital room, eyes filled with tears, looking sad while I broke her heart and told her we couldn’t be together, that I had to leave the city, to leave her came to my mind. I couldn’t see her sad once again, and somehow, I knew my presence would bring her that. Sadness. Would bring her all the bad memories and feelings. I wanted her to remain happy and bright and healthy.”

The man stops, and the girl bounces her leg up and down impatiently.

“So I told myself that it was better that way. That she thought I was still lost somewhere across the sea. I stood up, threw the flowers on a nearby trashcan and stared at her one last time. I felt as if I was taking a picture of her with my eyes, and then, walked away and never went back to the hospital or… To her.”

The young nursing student opens her mouth and gasps.

“You… You never saw her again?”

The man shakes his head. His dark eyes find the girl’s and she shivers.

He can see in them everything the man had once been.

“I told myself I was doing it all for her, that I was keeping her safe and happy. I hoped she was happy with her job and life and new apartment. And I stayed out of it… I told myself that during the following four months, and everyday was a battle against myself, not to go to the hospital and see her again, just one last time… But I was just lying to myself,” he scoffs bitterly. “I didn’t do it for her. I did it for myself. Because I was so scared, I was so scared she had done what I had asked her and had moved on, that she hadn’t waited for me. I was so scared she would reject me or tell me that she was better without me. I was so scared that she didn’t even remember me anymore… So I saved myself the pain and disappeared, carried on with life.”

“How could you do that? You loved her.”

The man smiles at the girl’s words.

“I did it precisely because of that.”

“And what did you do? With your life.”

The man shrugs. “Found a decent job, decent apartment. Visited my mom, I bought myself a nice car too. I got married once, unsurprisingly it didn’t go well and divorced. Met some more women after that… But nothing serious. And… Here I am now. A sad, old man who is about to die just as sad and alone.”

“You won’t be alone, Mr. Jeon,” the girl decisively says, nodding her head. “I’ll be here with you.”

For the first time since she knows him, she sees him smile, properly smile. He has a beautiful smile, one that makes him look younger. His bunny front teeth shows, and new crinkles form by the side of his eyes.

“Thank you, young girl,” he smiles.

The girl grabs his hand.

“If there’s something I can do for you, Mr. Jeon… Call a friend, search for someone…”

The man narrows his eyes.

“There is one thing you can do for me.”

The girl nods and lets go of his hand. The man sits on his bed with effort, opening the drawer of his nightstand and grabbing an envelope from it. He hands it to the girl and she holds it delicately.

“It’s for her,” he says with a raspy voice. “She lives near the Central Hospital. Sixth floor, B door.”

She stares at the envelope, your address written on it.

“I was planning on sending it to her since a long time ago… But never did. I think now is the time to start doing things I wanted to do but never did, don’t you think?”

“Do you want me to go to her house and give it to her?”

“Yeah, I’d love it. If you want to, of course, I would never –“

“I’ll do it, Mr. Jeon,” the girl nodded solemnly. “I’ll give it to her.”

. . .

It is a week after Mr. Jeon is gone, that the girl finds the strength to finally keep her promise to him.

On a Tuesday evening, she walks out of the hospital, letter secured in her backpack and follows the address that was written on the envelope of the letter.

She knocks on the B door of the sixth floor of the apartment building near the Central Hospital and waits.

It seems like an eternity, but eventually, the door opens.

It reveals a woman with soft wrinkles starting to cover her face. She radiates something the girl can’t put a name to, but something that makes her understand why Mr. Jeon once fell for her.

“Hello?” she asks, her voice is soft and she smiles at her.

“Hi,” the girl says shyly.

She doesn’t know where to look at, she can’t help but stare at the woman before her, at you. You look just like Mr. Jeon used to describe you, he didn’t leave any detail out.

You raise your brows and the girl laughs.

“Oh, sure,” she smiles, grabbing her backpack from her back and unzipping it. She searches through it, hand coming across the letter finally.

She hands it to you with a smile on her face.

“It’s from an old friend,” she says.

You take the letter from the girl’s hand, frowning a bit.

“From an old friend?”

The girl nods and zips back her backpack, hanging it over her shoulder afterwards. She would love to stay there and see you read Jungkook’s letter, to know what he had written in it and how you would react to it, but she felt it was a moment that belonged to you and Jungkook only.

Smiling at you one last time, the girl walks down the corridor and disappears from your sight.

You’re left there, door still open, with that letter in your hands.

Still frowning, you close the door of your apartment, ushering your cat inside.

In silence, you read the letter.

To Y/N:

This is going to be brief. I hope you don’t throw this away as soon as you see my unmistakable handwriting.

There’s not been a single day when I haven’t missed you. There’s not been a single corner of this world that didn’t remind me of you. Everywhere I went, everywhere I stayed, there you were with me, in my arms (or tripping under my playful foot)

I’ve loved you every single day of my life.

I’ll keep loving you even afterwards.

Jungkook.

[burning-fcols]

✩ { @sinfulredemptions } ✩ - Continued from ★

{ ☆ } It’s not fair— Ha; that’s the understatement of the century. Fair is a fantasy. A lie made up by people who don’t want to face the bleak truth about the world. It doesn’t exist. Even if it does, it’s never acheived. Not for him, at least. Never has been, never will. And yet, it’s one of the few coherent thoughts that manage to fill his swirling and throbbing mind, a headache already hinting at his temple thanks to a mixture of reality crashing back down through the previous haze and the knowledge that it’s only one of many to come. How could it NOT be? Val is gonna be on alert now.

He blew it. He was supposed to keep this getting clean shit under the radar and he blew it. Just, perhaps not in the way Charlie thinks... Although, it’s difficult to know for sure. Nothing is betrayed in that concerned gaze aside from worry, wide-eyes darting over to Charlie when she speaks, glossy and filled with an indecision swirling mercilessly in his gut. Should he tell her? Or merely allow circumstances to remain vague. Allow this incident to simply be a matter of him ‘slipping’... It was probably expected of him, anyway. They had stated as much when first discussing tapering down his dependence.

Maybe it’s best to keep the events of today close to his chest...

❝  A-Alright...  ❞  Word is breathed, mouth tugging into a thin line as he winces at his own voice, hating how meek it sounded... How pathetic... Shoulders hunch slightly, arms moving to hug himself, digging into thick fabric hard enough to rip— joining the many other tears he’s had to sew in sleeves throughout the years —gaze averting to the side with shame. Undeserved shame, but shame nonetheless. Stemmed from a life of learning that weaknesses must be masked, that defeats were his to shoulder, and that pain was his doing. Always his doing. Even if he hadn’t wanted to ‘slip’, even if just the thought of indulging in any more of Valentino’s special brand makes his blood boil with frustration— and desire —it was still his fault. Stupid bitch, thinking he could get away with something like this. Thinking he could get better. Be better.

And he had thought Charlie was naive... At least she has the excuse of diving into this kinda shit near-blind. He should know better. He DID know better... and now look at him. Actually feeling disappointed in how things are going down, predictable as it may have been. Actually feeling like- like a failure. It’s enough to cause a bitter quirk of his lips, Angel quietly chuffing with a harsh puff of twisted-amusement at what a sorry sight he must be. What a sorry sight he had BEEN. Fighting and squirming and finally pleading when all else failed, only to see not a single change in that goddamn glowing smile— Blinking dumbly when he feels something soft draped over his shoulders, he starts slightly at the unexpected contact, fur bristling and breath hitching before he realizes what is happening. Fuck. He got list in his own mind again.

Swallowing thickly, tongue nervously flits across his lips as upper hands move to clutch the blanket closer around himself, finding comfort in the extra layer of protection. Of concealment.  ❝  Thanks...  ❞  Is all he can mutter, fur starting to lie flat as he emits a soft sigh, exhaustion already starting to hint Angel’s features, the spider blinking a few times as he feels moisture arise. It’s not fair.   ❝  For y’know... everythin’.  ❞  He doesn’t want to let her down. Words fall thickly, obviously fighting against the waver in his tone. But like most things, it’s not HIS choice. Mouth opens to excuse himself to his room, feigning his tiredness as a simple need for a rest rather than the weight of the world feeling as if it’s crushing down on his shoulders. But words abruptly die on his tongue, evident by the strained, startled sound that escapes his throat when Charlie suggests that—

❝  A-Alastor?  ❞  Angel stammers, body tensing and cheeks dusting with noticeable warmth as wide eyes are riveted on Charlie, mind going in several directions. One, wondering why it is that she was so quick to suggest the deer. And how obvious his growing vulnerability softness towards the other male is to the denizens if the hotel. Not that he’d been doing anything to veil his ease around the ‘Radio Demon’, but for Charlie to suggest Alastor’s prescence at a time like THIS... as if she knows what a relief it would be, what a comfort Alastor would bring when he’s on the verge of breaking down— That hints at a connection far more than just simple ‘ease’; at least on Angel’s side.

Although... he actually doesn’t doubt that Al would come if asked.

❝  I... I don’t think that— I mean, I doubt Smiles wants ta—  ❞  Angel weakly begins, brows knitting and gaze darting to the side as shoulders hunch slightly and lies attempt to slide out his mouth. But they even sound hollow to his own ears, lathered in a poor excuse for deceit. Swallowing, gaze moves to the other side, as if trying to check and see that no one is near enough to overhear or expecting a deer to make an appearance as if summoned by thought alone. Or by the noticeable breaking in his voice...   ❝  That’s... That’s real sweet of ya ta offa’. Babe. But I’m not- heh... I’m not in th’ best headspace right now. An’ I— I can’t have him seein’ me like this... I jus’- I...  ❞ 

But he wants him. God does he want Alastor just to be near him. Just to see him... To hear him... He needs him.

Which is why it’s so important that he doesn’t allow the deer to see him in this state. He’s not certain he could keep from breaking, from shattering into a unappealing mess if given that source of comfort. If feeling that sense of safety, uncertain as it may be... What if Alastor thinks lesser of him? What if Alastor doesn’t WANT that side of him? Who would? Doesn’t want the confused, frightened, broken, PATHETIC— What if Alastor decides he’s no longer worth his time? If he spills out the disgusting truths churning and clawing inside of him... there’s no taking that back.

There’s no going back.

❝  I- I can’t... ❞  { ☆ }

[artificialqueens]

Hugs, tears and electricity (Biadore) - Chaoticnachokitten

A/N: Hii^-^

This is my first fanfic in this fandom, so please leave me some feedback, positive or negative, if you want to. I wrote this because there will never be enough sickfics but I’m too shy to ask for them, so yeah. Please look at the trigger warnings as there will be discussions of eating disorders and somewhat mild self harm (no blood). Stay safe and don’t read it if anything might trigger you. This is probably set in 2015/2016 but not necessarily.

Summary: Why performing in a club while being sick is never a good idea. Biadore friendship with fluff, angst and hurt/comfort.

Adore checked her phone. She had actually slept through the whole day. It was three hours before the show would start. While it wasn’t unusual for her to sleep in, the whole day was a bit extreme, and yet she was still tired and felt off.

The gig wasn’t anything particularly fancy or really exciting even, just a local club hosting a singing/ lip sync competition. Most of the performers would be local queens as well, with the exception of her.

It had been rumored that the club was about to go bankrupt, so they decided to scrape up basically all of the money they had left to host the show and try to get one of the RuGirls to perform there. Since Adore knew the club, and some of the local queens, she had decided to accept to offer, even if the pay wasn't that great. At least it was convenient because she was currently staying in a hotel (sharing a room with Bianca because literally every room was booked, not that either of them minded) which happened to be basically next to the club.

Bianca and her hadn't been doing a lot of gigs in a while as they had both been busy with different projects, and Adore missed the feeling of being on stage, people cheering for her, the adrenaline kick, the casual making out with fans, and, of course, the occasional crowd surfing.

Now, usually Adore would only need about an hour to get ready, depending on the occasion and how she was feeling but Bianca had insisted that they’d do the final costume fitting for her custom dress as soon as possible in case any kind of alteration had to be done.

Adore sometimes wondered how Bianca and her were such amazing friends despite them being completely different, especially when it came to their drag.

While Adore could care less about what people thought of her and her gender bending, unique and sometimes completely spontaneous style of drag, or at least act like it, Bianca liked to have everything planned out and organized as soon as possible so nothing could possibly go wrong. In fact she was probably doing it right now, given the sounds on her side; Adore didn’t bother to check though, in fact she didn’t want to move at all as she still felt exhausted for some reason despite having slept through the whole day.

Why would someone plan their whole drag a day before the show would even start on their day off? Adore just shook her head fondly and closed her eyes, just for a minute, to regain some energy. It wasn’t any use though as she was woken up by the older queen what seemed like only seconds later. Right. The dress. That got her excited enough to get up, although not without difficulty.

"Oh my god, it's stunning.” Adore was gagging over the dress. It even exceeded her expectations. It wasn't just any dress. It was the most perfect custom dress made by Bianca specifically for her, which made it even better. Bianca let Adore enjoy the moment and proceeded to search for the very corset Adore had 'borrowed' from her among a few other things.

Bianca had never been able to quite bring herself to be mad at the younger queen though, it was just a corset after all, she herself had given it to the younger queen. If anything it mostly amused her because Adore seemed to be attached to it for some odd reason.

Said queen was still staring at the dress, gently touching the beautiful fabric. A lot of work had gone into it, some parts had to be made completely from scratch, and of course, the sewing hadn't been that easy either, given the materials. The fact that the dress had been designed and created specifically for Adore made it about ten times more complicated as well.

First of all, it needed to give her the ability to move as freely as possible on stage. Adore was known for her energetic life performances and occasional crowd surfing. On top of that, it still needed to be absolutely gorgeous while not looking super polished. Someone who calls themselves polish remover should probably not be forced into a long, glamorous gown ; it just wouldn't be authentic Adore anymore.

Taking all of that into consideration, Bianca had created a turquoise, off the shoulder sequin mini dress, mermaid themed of course, so Adore could still be her true self. It was decorated with small pieces of corals on the neckline (no sharp ones though, Adore is very clumsy and would probably hurt herself with them or with a long gown) and tiny little fish ornaments around the waist, arranged like a belt (just for fun and the irony). Bianca had even been thoughtful enough to create the dress in a way that the seams could be let out, just in case. It was also perfect for the upcoming evening as it would look absolutely stunning in the spotlight while not being a pain to lip sync in.

Adore was still admiring the dress when Bianca came back with the corset. Only then did she notice that something was off about Adore. Her face was really pale, except her cheeks, which were flushed pink. Kind of adorable (pun not intended), but really worrying at the same time. So maybe that’s why it had been impossible to wake her up.

Adore went to grab the corset in order to put it on, but Bianca just shook her head. Adore started giggling (which quickly turned into a cough, she really needed to quit smoking).

"At this point I can do it all by myself B. I’m like, an expert now, a real drag queen.”

Still, she removed her shirt (Bianca merch), moved closer to the older queen, and turned around.

"Oh shut up", Bianca muttered, no bite in her voice though, a smile tugging on her lips even. Adore was very special to her, and this was one of her ways to express it.

She noticed a few bruises on Adore's back. Nothing serious, but she'd quickly check on them, just to make sure putting on the corset wouldn't be any more uncomfortable than usual for the younger queen. Bianca let her fingers gently trace over the bruises. Her worry grew as she felt the heat basically radiating off of Adore.

"Does that hurt?" She managed to keep her voice as neutral and casual sounding as possible. She knew from experience that Adore would probably not admit anything, at least for now. The younger queen simply hated being sick or feeling weak, not being able to perform, and disappointing her fans.

"Uhm not really, no. Why?" Adore was slightly confused. While her body was hurting all over, especially her muscles from the fever, she had tried not to make it super obvious, and it wasn't like Bianca was making it worse. "You've got a couple of bruises. Do you think the corset will be alright?"

"Yeah, sure." Bianca couldn't see Adore's smile. Bianca was seriously worried about a bit of bruising. Those were the kind of moments that proved that people who said Bianca was cold and bitter were just wrong as they either completely ignored her kind actions or just didn't want see them. Though it wasn't like their opinion meant anything anyway.

With skilled fingers, Bianca went ahead and laced her in, noticing that it was easier to put it on compared to the last times, but then shrugged it off. The material of the corset was probably stretched out or something. At least that's what Bianca told herself to keep calm, although the worry kept growing in her chest, almost suffocating her. She forced a smile on her face, which was fairly easy for her after all those years of performing.

"Alright, all done. Let's get you in that dress." Adore nodded excitedly, and tried on her gorgeous new dress while concentrating hard on keeping her balance. Bianca zipped it up, noticing in horror that it was too loose.

She furrowed her brows in confusion. She'd been making dresses for years now, so the measurements simply could not be wrong, especially since they had been taken pretty recently. That meant Adore had managed to drop an alarming amount of weight in a really short time. Bianca could have slapped herself in that moment, for not noticing sooner. The amount of worry was almost unbearable now, blocking her airways. She tried to ignore the feeling and act rational. As much as she didn't want to make Adore to feel uncomfortable, she had to find out what was wrong with her baby. Bianca took a deep breath, forming the words in her head.

"B?", Adore asked in a confused and slightly worried tone. "Are you okay? You literally haven't said anything for minutes now, you’re freaking me out." Bianca stepped in front of the younger queen, and gestured to the bed. "Sit down, I need to talk to you."

The words came out the wrong way, Adore looked terrified and started shivering in fear. Her somewhat foggy and feverish brain was trying to find out what she had done wrong and making everything dramatic. Adore just hated disappointing or upsetting people she loved. Realizing her mistake, Bianca quickly hugged Adore, and sat her down on the bed, gently assuring her it wasn't anything too bad. Technically a lie, but Bianca was able to hide her worrying.

"Adore. As you might have noticed, your dress obviously doesn't fit. Which is weird, because I took your measurements just a short while ago. Something is wrong, and I would like to help you, okay baby?"

Adore started shivering even more, a voice in her head telling her to not say anything. She fought it with all of her strength.

"I- I'm sorry." A sob escaped her "You worked so hard on it and I- I can't do anything right!" Okay this was going in the false direction.

"Baby, I don't care about having to change something about the dress, I care about you. It is neither normal nor healthy to lose that weight that fast. Please talk to me, Adore." Adore just didn't feel ready to talk, so instead she tried to respond as maturely as possible.

"Please..can we talk after the show? I promise I will tell you everything, but I need some time to prepare myself." Bianca agreed.

"Alright baby, but please promise me to take care of yourself up there. So nothing too exhausting and if you don't feel well, cancel. Your health is the most important thing." Some tears escaped Adore's eyes. She felt loved.

“I promise I feel good enough to perform. Thank you, B." She pulled Bianca in a tight hug.

They stayed like this for a while, holding each other and feeling like everything would work out. Whatever obstacle the younger queen was facing at the moment, they would manage to fix it. Bianca pressed a kiss to Adore's forehead, frowning when she felt the heat once again, maybe even stronger than before. She let go of Adore, knowing they still needed to get her in drag. Adore's smile was precious, and Bianca couldn't help but kiss her once more, this time on the cheek.

"I'm going to do my makeup now", Adore announced, beginning to get up to go to the bathroom, where her makeup was stored. She would usually do it at the club, right before the gig, but she knew that the dressing rooms sucked in that particular club. Bianca quickly grabbed her shoulder to prevent Adore from leaving.

"Let me do it for you." Adore shook her head.

"Seriously B, you've done more than enough for me already. You're supposed to relax today." Bianca merely sighed.

"Show me your hands then." Confused, the younger queen stretched out her arms a bit, to take a look at her hands. They were trembling, and not in a normal way.

"Oh."

"Exactly. I'm doing your makeup, and that's the end of it. Unless you actually want to be a responsible adult and cancel."

Adore shook her head again. Bianca sighed, and got up to get everything she needed. Adore waited patiently, while getting mildly amused by the cursing about her stuff being messy and all over the place. Bianca came back, not even bothering to say anything. She just gave Adore her 'Really queen?' stare. At this point, she had already accepted that this was just the way the younger queen was, and nothing could change that. And, honestly, given Adore's style of drag, being organized and clean would just be plain weird.

“Wait, are those my brushes? Why are they clean?”

“Well someone just had to clean them bitch, they were literal health hazards. I don’t even know how you can even still use them.”

Adore simply shrugged. What even is the point of cleaning brushes if you’re going to use them over and over again?

"Okay, close your eyes." Adore was confused. Why in the hell would Bianca want to start with the eyes? She complied though, not questioning it. Somehow she felt like her energy had drained all at once. Bianca witnessed the sudden change immediately; it did absolutely nothing to calm her nerves. To not raise any more suspicion of Adore, she half-heartedly applied some eye primer , well knowing that Adore usually didn't even bother to use it. "Okay, now open your mouth." At this point Adore was concerned. What the hell was Bianca on and what was she doing to her face?

She opened her mouth to ask the older queen what was going on, but before she could even say anything, a cold, metal-like tasting object had been pushed in her mouth.

Damn. That had been one fast move of the older queen. Bianca gave Adore one stern look that basically told her to better keep her mouth closed, or the consequences wouldn't be pretty. Adore pouted, but kept the thermometer under her tongue. Bianca’s look softened once the thermometer beeped. The somewhat relaxed face was quickly replaced with another concerned frown, the older queen was seemingly dissatisfied with the numbers on the small device.

“Do you like, always travel with medical equipment?” A sigh followed.

“Don’t even try to change the subject now, because this is not looking good. See, your temperature’s 101. I'll get you something for it." Adore shook her head with a slight frown.

"I can't. You know how tired I get after taking that stuff. Besides I'm feeling alright, no need to worry." She smiled sweetly.

Yeah, right. Last time Adore had told Bianca not to worry, Bianca found her passed out and bleeding on the street after leaving a club with a guy the older queen had warned Adore about. Ever since then, Bianca had promised herself she wouldn't let anything like that ever happen again, even if that meant a pouting queen for a while. So needless to say, Bianca was just not convinced it would be any good for Adore to perform sick without any energy due to the lack of proper nutrition and possibly drunk on top of everything. But then again, the younger queen was an adult and could make her own (terrible) decisions.

"I'll come with you.”

"B, you really don't know what relaxing means, do you?"

"Oh yeah, 'cause knowing you'll probably collapse on stage is very relaxing, isn't it?" Bianca proceeded to roll her eyes.

"C'mon, it's just a small gig, I'll be fine."

To at least kind of calm the older queen, Adore quickly added "If you still want to talk about the..uhm..dress thing, we'll do it after the show. Promise, just please, take care of yourself for once." Cue puppy eyes, that unfortunately never really worked on the older queen. Bianca raised an eyebrow at that.

"You're telling me to take care of myself? This is simply ridiculous. And I, in fact, insist that we're going to talk about the ‘dress’ thing. So, let's just get you ready, all right?"

Making jokes seemed wrong right now, her ‘rolodex of hate’ stayed completely silent, so changing the topic would have to do the job of lighting up the mood. "What did you have in mind for today?" Adore kind of tilted her head sideways, trying really hard to remember what she had originally wanted to do. Her face was burning up and her head was a fuzzy mess.

"Uhm how about a kind of mermaid inspired design? I mean not that I would need makeup to look like that, so it's really just working with what I already got." She grinned slightly, which was nice to see. Maybe she would survive the gig after all. Bianca smiled, nodded and then went all professional.

She wanted Adore's makeup to be perfect, which, given her experience and Adore’s flawless face, wouldn’t be that hard. She was so skilled and experienced she could actually let her thoughts drift off while still doing a perfect job.

Bianca thought about Adore and her obvious problem. Of course, she already expected her to say the most obvious, but maybe, just maybe, it wasn't anything that bad. Although Adore saying she needed time before talking about it didn’t sound like it was just a small thing, hope dies last.

Once she was done with the makeup, she convinced Adore to go to the club with her, saying she needed a couple of drinks, but in reality she didn't feel good about letting Adore leave alone. Not even the amount of makeup could hide that something wasn't exactly right.

Since the younger queen could basically hear Bianca overthinking everything, she quickly got up to leave the hotel room. It didn't exactly work out as some black spots clouded her vision, and she could only prevent herself from collapsing with all of her strength while holding onto whatever furniture was next to her. Thankfully the sensation only lasted a couple of seconds, and she was able to reach the door without any further issues. She was excited for the show, the adrenaline was already kicking in, preventing her from feeling any worse. She was about to turn the doorknob when she felt a hand on her wrist gently but firmly pulling her back.

"Bitch, you're going to wear a jacket. And no, not that leather thing, don’t look at me like that. Can't have you freeze to death on top of everything else."

"Ugh, fine, mom." Bianca just rolled her eyes, and handed Adore said jacket.

It really was a cold night, nicely paired with the kind of wind that managed to make everyone feel cold, no matter the clothes. It made both of them shiver. The atmosphere between Bianca and Adore was a bit tense, simply because Bianca was obviously worried, so Adore tried to lighten the mood a bit.

“Look, there’s a shooting star!”, she exclaimed while pointing at the sky. Shit, she really is delirious. “Adore, that’s not a shooting star, it’s a just an airplane.”

“I know. I was just joking..?” Bianca wasn’t convinced whatsoever. The rest of their walk to the club was mostly silent apart from the younger queen coughing a couple of times. Bianca wanted to drag her back to the hotel, but knew that Adore would rather collapse on stage than cancel, just like almost every serious, professional drag performer.

They arrived at the club at the time Adore was supposed to, as to avoid a crowd of drunk fans expecting to meet her before the show. Usually Adore liked meeting her fans, but not in her current state and definitely not in front of a club. The location offered no security whatsoever, and, unlike in a meet and greet, there would always be disappointed people who weren’t noticed, and hateful posts the day after. On top of that it was starting to rain, and the younger queen had to shield her face with her arms to protect her paint. While she usually didn’t care about her makeup getting smudged, Bianca’s gorgeous artwork could not be destroyed under any circumstances. So, needless to say, Adore was more than happy to not having to deal with people wanting to talk to her for an hour and take tons of selfies all while standing outside in the cold rain.

The club was in worse condition than expected. Some of the illuminated letters were only occasional lighting up, one didn't work at anymore.

"Party!" One of the staff members seemed to hear that and immediately recognized them. He made his way over to the two queens, politely thanking them for coming, and then quickly showing them the backstage entrance. Technically Bianca wasn't allowed in that area because she wasn't performing, but in reality she was Bianca del Rio and the staff member could probably tell that something was wrong. In order to let them get ready, he just asked them if they needed anything.

When Adore declined, he excused himself. One of the local queens (barely 21, smudged makeup and nervous as hell) presented Adore the list so she could in which order everyone would perform. Apparently no one wanted to do the opening, so she Adore put her name on it (which made Bianca roll her eyes once more. The younger queen would probably drain all of her remaining energy just for the opening speech.)She was assigned to do the second lip sync and was third for the life singing. Not bad. She thanked the queen, and then worked on a rough outline of what she wanted to say. A few moments after the local queen had left, a loud, excited squeal could be heard outside, which made Adore chuckle slightly. Afterwards she got back to her opening speech.

Adore had never been one to plan out everything perfect, as it was too stiff and polished in her opinion. The job was easy as well. Just get the crowd excited, which would be a piece of cake. After all, she just had to yell 'Pizza' and 'Party' to make her fans go wild. Or, not even that, all she had to do was going on stage. Or referring to something iconic said on Drag Race. It was one of the perks of being well known and of course loved in the scene.

A bit of time passed, and she still hadn’t received any kind of information when exactly she should be on stage, usually some staff member would knock on her door and let her know. So when she heard the know she assumed it was time, so she quickly checked her makeup, fixed her dress and opened the door. The local queen from earlier was standing there, still looking very nervous, but also somewhat scared.

“I'm really sorry”, she started, voice trembling, pulling on the sleeves on her dress nervously

“Apparently the club is having some technical difficulties that need to be fixed. It’s honestly like every damn time. Again I’m really sorry, someone will inform you when they’ve fixed everything. It usually doesn’t take that long.”

What kind of club even is this? Adore was getting slightly annoyed, but forced herself to smile. “Alright, thanks for telling me. Oh, and there’s no need to apologize. It’s not your fault.”

As soon as the girl had left again, Adore felt the need to cry. Why did she ever agree to do this? How long would this take? The built up adrenaline was leaving her body and she was getting so exhausted just by being awake.

Bianca seemed to be able to read her mind, because before she knew it the younger queen was laying on a couch, probably the most expensive thing in this entire sad excuse for a club, head resting it the older queen’s lap, who tried to comfort her by gently stroking her head without messing up the long red wig, and telling her over and over again that everything would be okay.

At this point Bianca couldn’t even tell if it was her who in fact needed to hear those things. That sight and knowing there was nothing she could really do right now to help the younger queen hurt her heart. Adore closed her eyes, clearly trying to get some energy back, which likely wouldn’t be very effective though. What she really needed were food, medicine and plenty of rest. And somebody to take care of her, because Adore was terrible at taking care of herself when she was sick.

Around twenty minutes later, someone knocked on the door again, waking up the younger queen, this time an actual staff member, telling Adore she was supposed to go on stage in five minutes, and giving her two ear pieces, like every normal club would. He immediately left after that, to give Adore time to get ready.

As soon as he had left, Bianca looked at the younger queen with a dead serious expression.

“I can’t believe you’re actually risking your health like that.”

“Don’t act like you haven’t done the exact same thing before.” Bianca couldn’t really argue with that, and just pulled Adore into a hug.

“Please don’t die up there, people are going to assume it was me.” Adore lightly chuckled.

“I won’t. I have to go now though.”

Squeezing the older queen tightly one last time, she put on her best confident face and walk, and headed to the stage. On the outside, she probably looked fine thanks to Bianca’s makeup skills, but her head was pounding, the ear pieces felt uncomfortable and the black dots clouding her vision just wouldn’t go away. On top of that she just seemed not to be able to stop shivering to the point where her legs were ready to give out one time. Thankfully she made it to the stage without fainting. The first part would be really easy: greeting the fans.

"Hi everyone, thanks for coming tonight! I'll keep this short so we can go straight into the good stuff." And done. As predicted, the crowd was already going crazy by just seeing her. The fans were in fact cheering so loudly she had to scream to be heard, even with the microphone, which, to be honest, kind of sucked quality wise.

"Are you ready? Let's get sickening! Party!" The last word had been a little too much for her already sore throat, and she really had to fight the urge to cough.

"Those are the amazing queens that will perform tonight." She listed everyone, trying to keep it both brief and entertaining.

Afterwards, she quickly (or as quickly as she could manage) left the stage to make room for the first queen. She also needed to prepare herself for the upcoming lip sync, as she would be the second one. The competition was designed to be pretty fair, so she would only know which song she would perform on stage. Only one minute left. Bianca for some reason was nowhere in sight, so she just quickly looked in the mirror, deciding she looked fucking cool, and then made her way back to the stage.

A staff member handed her a jar with contained folded pieces of paper. She had to pick one randomly, and the chosen paper would reveal what song she’d be performing. Everyone of the performing queens would have to do that as well. It was made like that so every contestant had fair chances of winning.

Adore opened the jar and tried to get out its contents in a somewhat sexual way, making the crowd scream once again. She opened the paper and read the word printed on it. 'Vibeology'. Creativity apparently wasn't their strongest suit, but on the bright side, she would really slay this lip sync. As soon as she started to relax a bit though, her body took that as a sign that it was okay to make her feel worse. The burning of her cheeks was almost unbearable, and the costume was too hot and she just wanted it off. Why did she ever agree to do this?

The crowd was kind of confused because Adore was just staring at the paper, not saying anything after acting so excited just minutes ago. The staff started playing the music anyway. Adore's ear pieces were adjusted way too loudly, it was almost hurting her ears, definitely not helping with her already present headache. Still, she forced a grin, and started dancing, acting as unique and playful as ever, doing the cross eye, jumping around, even doing a split.

The adrenaline was pumping through her entire body, giving her the strength she needed. This was why she loved performing. Feeling the energy of the crowd always gave her one of the best highs she had ever experienced. The feeling was just so incredible.

She was so into the performance, she didn't even notice that the light was suddenly acting weird. If Adore had noticed it, she could have prevented what was about to happen. (The entire electricity was connected somehow, even her ear pieces were connected with the light) When she was about to jump into another split, the light suddenly went out completely, she felt the right ear piece heating up, and before she could do anything, the worst sound and an excruciating pain erupted from her ear, sending literal waves of pain down her entire body. The sound was like a mix of fireworks and a siren, the pain too terrible to describe it in words. Tears shot in her eyes and a scream escaped her lips as she felt her body fall to the floor, unable to move on her own, except her body was shaking in shock and pain, or even try to hide her pain. She was almost thankful when she felt the darkness wrapping her head, taking away a bit of the pain. Her eyelids fluttered shut..

(P. O. V. Bianca at the start of the lip sync.)

Bianca was already worried, and the song hadn't even started. Adore wasn't reacting to the note at all. No funny comment or literally anything (not that Bianca could see her face, she was watching through a camera backstage which was positioned on the back of the stage). She was blankly staring into space. The older queen had to stop herself from dragging Adore off stage with all her strength. When the lip sync started though, Adore went into her usual energetic, quirky self, in fact, you could barely tell she wasn't 100% alright. It honestly made Bianca wonder whether Adore did this a lot, or if she was just a good actress.

Bianca was able to relax a tiny bit, seeing that Adore was doing somewhat okay, and she couldn't help but notice how pretty the younger queen was. The messy aesthetic just worked, and really added a lot to Adore's character. The only thing that really bothered her, was the fact that the dress still didn't fit her properly, even after trying to fix it in the rather short amount of time. This sight made her chest clench painfully once again. Of course, she would be able to fix it with some more time, but she’d obviously rather have Adore healthy again.

Suddenly the light started acting crazy, the spotlights going off at completely random times and places, which was definitely not what was supposed to happen. Adore didn't seem bothered by it though, in fact, it was almost like she didn't notice it at all.

The younger queen was even getting ready to jump into a split, just as the lights went out entirely. The entire room fell silent, then Bianca could see blue sparks coming from somewhere, very possibly but hopefully not Adore. What followed was the most painful scream she had ever heard (and she had heard a lot of screaming and yelling), and a thud. The thought of what could have possibly happened made her feel sick to her stomach.

At this point, the people were totally freaking out. Bianca practically ran on stage, indeed finding an unconscious Adore. Thankfully the curtain had fallen and shielded the horrific sight from the crowd. Bianca didn’t even want to think about what would have happened if it had hit Adore. She still freaked out, but tried to force herself to act as responsible as possible in order to help the younger queen.

Trying to not worry the crowd, the staff members announced via megaphone that everyone needed to leave for now because of some technical difficulties, everything they had heard were just sound effects, everyone was safe and they would get their money back, stuff like that.

It gave Bianca the opportunity to quietly half drag half carry Adore off the stage as fast as possible. Thankfully she had remembered how to get back to the dressing room before the whole thing had happened, because it was pretty impossible to see anything, the only source of light were some LED floor spots.

It was a miracle that no one of the fans had noticed anything, well except for the scream, but the crowd was probably as shocked as she was. This club honestly sucked. The staff members managed to escort the disturbed people out with little problem, and then proceeded to work on the broken electricity.

By the time Bianca and Adore had made it back to the dressing room, the light was thankfully working again, at least in that particular room, although it was still flickering, somehow making the mood of the room even more dramatic, and frankly, irritating.

Bianca laid Adore on the only small sofa in the room. She was still unconscious. The first thing Bianca did was taking off the ear piece. It thankfully still was one piece, but it looked like something in it had exploded and electrocuted Adore in the process. Bianca cringed at the sheer thought of how painful that must have been.

She gently started shaking the younger queen, trying to be completely and utterly careful. When that didn't work, she checked Adore's pulse. It was there, but weak. Not good at all. Her next attempt was putting cold water on the younger queen's face. This did the trick, Adore gasped and opened her eyes. Bianca had never been that thankful in her entire life.

Unsurprisingly though, Adore was still in a state of shock, and started crying uncontrollably, confused, not knowing where she was or what was happening, feeling absolutely terrified and hurting all over. Bianca kept her voice quiet and gentle.

"Is it okay if I hug you?" Adore managed to give her a small nod. Usually when she was sad or hurt, touch seemed to really help the younger queen, this was the reason why Bianca had asked her this question first. Well, not one hundred percent because of that. In her vulnerable state Adore just needed to be protected right now, the older queen could absolutely not let happen anything else to her, or she’d never forgive herself.

Bianca went on her knees and just held the younger queen, and telling her she was okay and everything would be alright, hoping to make her feel just a tiny bit better. Adore calmed down almost immediately, Bianca's presence never failed to make her feel safe. Especially her scent, and the way she held her were like magic to Adore. The crying calmed down to a manageable level rather quickly, possibly because Adore didn’t have any energy left anymore. Bianca slowly let go of her, because she really needed to check whether they needed to call an ambulance. Not wanting to break all of the contact though, she held Adore's hand instead.

"Okay baby, I need to ask you a couple of things", she said softly.

"Afterwards we'll go home immediately, and we'll cuddle for the whole night, I promise", she quickly added, seeing that Adore's eyes went all glossy again.

"Is that okay?" Adore weakly nodded again.

"Okay, thank you baby. Do you hear everything I say?" A nod.

"My ear hurts so bad though, and there’s like this.. ringing that won’t go away" , Adore admitted in the saddest, tiniest voice, wincing when another bolt of pain hit her.

Bianca gently wiped away the fresh tears with her thumb and placed a comforting kiss on Adore’s forehead. That sounded not too bad given the circumstances, Bianca would just bring Adore to a doctor tomorrow as she already knew how much Adore would hate going to a hospital, and she wasn't in any life threatening state, at least it didn’t currently seem like it.

Adore for some reason thought it would be a good idea to touch her ear, hissing when the pain was so intense it made her dizzy. Bianca quickly but gently pulled the younger’s hand away and told her not to do it again.

"I'm so sorry baby. I promise you'll feel better soon. Anything else you want to tell me?" Adore had started crying quietly again.

"I feel horrible B, please just get me out of here."

"Of course baby, can you-" Adore tried to push herself into a sitting position and failed. Her ear was ringing so painfully, causing her head spin and making her want to curl up and die. There was simply too much pain and not enough strength.

"Okay no, you obviously can't. That’s okay, I'm just going to carry you outside, then we can call a cab."

Adore wanted to protest, being absolutely sure that Bianca would collapse while trying to lift her. She knew how freaking heavy she was. Maybe if she tried again she could actually walk. She simply had to. Otherwise she'd crush the older queen with her weight. Damn, why couldn’t she just be skinny?

Bianca could practically hear Adore thinking, so she put on a jacket on the younger and gently picked up her bridal style. She was very surprised, in a bad way. Adore felt so light, delicate like a single touch could break her, and Bianca could feel the bones of her spine sticking out. They were absolutely going to talk about the sudden weight loss. And she needed to give Adore some medicine as soon as possible. She was practically burning up, wincing in pain and shivering like crazy, Bianca was reminded of those abandoned kittens in terrible states, sick and almost starved to death they would sometimes show in those animal shelter documentaries. The MEOW tattoo just added to that mental picture.

The older queen used an exclusive exit to make sure no fans would see them, which was like the worst thing that could probably happen. For what seemed to be the first time this night, they were in luck and everyone seemed to be gone at this point, making everything a whole lot easier. There was a somewhat fancy button directly next to the club that would automatically call a cab to their exact location. Perhaps the only good thing the club had to offer.

Trying to push it was a real challenge, considering that she was carrying an adult person at the same time, but there was absolutely no way she would put that precious queen on the cold, dirty and wet from the continuous rain, ground. With a bit of adjustment she managed to press it. Now all she had to do was comfort Adore and try to keep her warm, at least dry from the freezing rain, which wasn’t all that easy as it seemed to only get stronger as time went by. Eventually it was pouring icy water.

The shivering got worse by the second as well although Adore felt way too hot, her body radiating heat.

Being in the cold for too long while already being sick was also less than ideal. Adore let out a soft pained sound. She was still really overwhelmed, trying to process everything that had happened. Bianca just held her closer.

“Shh, I got you. Nothing is going to happen to you anymore baby, I promise.” The rain was really pouring now, the drops were huge and icy.

The cab thankfully arrived after only a couple of minutes of waiting, and the driver didn't even question anything, which Bianca was grateful for.

During the drive Adore and Bianca held hands, Bianca gently stroking Adore's, knowing she liked that. With her free hand, she gently moved the hair out of the younger queen's face to take another look at her. She seemed to look worse by the second, skin getting as white as snow, a bizarre contrast to her now completely smudged black eye makeup and her cheeks, which were almost glowing at this point.

The fact that Adore couldn't even hold up her head properly anymore was probably the most concerning thing. The older queen gently held Adore so she wouldn’t bang her head against the car window or something. Bianca swore to herself she would never let the younger queen perform ever again when she wasn't feeling 100%. Tonight had just proved how terrible and harmful Adore's choices were.

The cab arrived at the hotel. Bianca paid the driver, and tipped him before lifting Adore out of the car and carrying her inside the hotel. Thankfully it was so late that no one except the receptionist saw them, and she was clearly just not interested. She had probably seen worse. Thankfully their room wasn’t very far away, lowering the chances of any fans seeing them.

When they had arrived in front of their room, Bianca unlocked the door, which thankfully worked with sliding in a card. Once they were in, she placed Adore on the bed, gently, making sure the younger queen wasn't wearing shoes anymore.

Adore was still shaking, letting out a tiny pained noise once again. Bianca was pretty much helpless at this point, not being sure what she should do. Getting the medication meant leaving Adore, and that was the last thing she wanted to do, but on the other hand, the younger queen really needed it as soon as possible. She gently started petting Adore's head, hoping it would comfort her just a tiny bit before gently telling her "I'm just going to get you something, I'll be back in just a few seconds.”

The saddest eyes in history and a whispered "Please don't leave me" followed.

Bianca gently kissed Adore's overheated forehead and promised her once more she'd hurry up. Thankfully being as organized as she was, she had already put everything she needed in the bathroom and didn't have to search for it. Hopefully the stuff she had would be enough to help Adore.

When she went back, she was met with the heartbreaking sight of a quietly crying mermaid curled up into a tiny ball. Bianca took the thermometer again. Then she just let her instincts take over. She wrapped her arms around the shaking ball of sadness and gently told her everything would be better soon. It took a couple of minutes before Adore had been ready to fully uncurl again as she was partly doing it because of physical pain, and as soon as she did, the thermometer was placed into her mouth again.

"103.8. Shit. We gotta get this down immediately."

Bianca was about to hand Adore the appropriate pill, when she realized that would be a mistake in her current state.

"Oh fuck, I just remembered, that’s the kind you can't take on an empty stomach, and I don't have anything else right now. And there's no way I'm leaving you."

Adore was convinced that this day couldn't get any worse. She, in fact, did have a problem with eating that had been getting worse over the past couple of weeks, and she wasn't ready to give it up. Not when she was doing so good and her weight was finally going down.

Long story short, she could cry again. Except she didn't have any energy and her stomach was cramping, probably from long suppressed hunger. She didn't care though. It didn’t matter anyway. Although she wanted nothing more than feel better and sleep, her mind didn’t allow her to simply agree.

“I ate today..earlier.” Her voice was barely a whisper. So much for trying to put up a fight.

“Adore, we literally spent the whole day together, which you spent entirely sleeping, so I would know that. I might be old, but I’m not that old yet.” Bianca rolled her eyes to disguise her worry.

Adore felt her chest tightening, a wave of feverish panic hit her.

"I- I can't", she whispered. "Please don't make me."

Adore quietly winced as another bolt of pain shot through her body. She felt her face burning while every other part of her body was freezing. Her muscles shook from pure exhaustion. Bianca was getting even more worried and tense. If Adore's temperature would rise any more, she'd have to bring her to hospital. And maybe they'd keep her there..no, that would and could not happen. Not on her watch. Adore would hate that.

She gently took Adore's hand. "Look baby, I'm not going to make you, but you need to understand that if you’re neither going to eat nor take your medication, we'll have to go to the ER because that is literally life threatening and I can't see you suffer like this any longer. So please baby, just try to." Tears escaped Bianca's beautiful eyes despite desperately trying to fight them.

Adore felt so, so guilty. She didn't want to hurt Bianca, a person she loved dearly. She'd have to try to eat, for Bianca, even if it hurt. Adore nodded.

"Alright. I'll do it."

But then she just couldn't force herself to. In fact, she was getting so worked up, she started to panic. Her chest became tight and breathing properly was therefore nearly impossible. It was getting so hard her body went full on panic mode, and she started dry heaving. Bianca reacted very quickly, asking for permission to touch Adore in a calm, collected voice. The last thing the younger queen needed was seeing how much it actually affected Bianca. When she was given the permission, she proceeded to open Adore's dress. She couldn't really take it off because of Adore's current state, but what she definitely had to get off was the cincher. Constricting the younger queen's airways it in fact had to come off immediately.

She was really surprised though, when Adore made a protesting sound. Bianca decided Adore's well being was the first priority, so she took off the cincher, already sensing what could be the issue. She still wanted to make sure the younger queen was alright.

"What's wrong baby?" Adore's head felt really weird and she couldn't quite form a coherent sentence.

"..hog body.." Adore tensed up once more and almost started hyperventilating. Not good, it would raise her temperature even more.

"Fuck. Okay baby, deep breaths for me. Great job. Now hold it." Bianca counted to three. "Okay now exhale. Well done."

She did this with the younger queen for a couple of minutes until Adore was almost fully there again. Bianca decided it was time to fully de drag the younger queen.

She started by taking off the wig, carefully setting it aside and gently pulling off the fake lashes before grabbing her fancy makeup wipes. The makeup came off immediately. Adore didn't say a word during the procedure, she was probably too exhausted. Getting off the dress was awkward because Bianca didn't think Adore could stand up long enough. She somehow got it off though, and then proceeded to put an oversized shirt on the younger queen.

She didn't want to give her anything warm as Adore was burning up already. Bianca tried to figure out what to say next as she didn't want to freak out Adore once more.

"Baby I'm sorry, but you have to eat something now." Her words were firm but gentle and caring at the same time. Adore just nodded, no energy left to fight in her.

"Why do you care so much?"

"Because I love you, you stupid bitch."

"Love you too, but there's something else.”

"I'll tell you when you're eating, deal?"

Adore sighed softly. "Deal."

Bianca unwrapped a protein bar. She just hoped it would be enough so Adore could take her medicine. Also, she would not actually give the bar to Adore. People with eating disorders could be so damn sneaky. Or well, at least the younger queen had used some questionable methods to get out of eating.

Adore was too tired to sit up, so she just put her head in Bianca's lap and closed her eyes. She just wanted this day to be fucking over.

"Open up, baby." Adore very reluctantly did as she was told. In her exhausted state, she couldn’t even bring herself to explain that she was, in fact, capable of eating on her own.

A small piece of a protein bar was put into her mouth. She tried to focus on anything else but the fact that she was eating, her mind screaming vile, disgusting things at her. Swallowing hurt as well as her throat was completely raw at this point, dry and irritated, and that combined with her body having run on empty for a while now almost made her gag. Adore winced and Bianca gently shushed her and made her drink some water.

"Tell me the other reason now, please. I need distraction.”

Bianca nodded.

"Alright. I used to know a queen."

A faint smile tugged on her lips, remembering her fondly. Bianca used this opportunity to feed Adore some more of the bar.

"One of the kindest people on earth, honestly.

I'm talking like showing up hours before a gig, helping people drag and de drag, comforting others, giving them motivational speeches, you get the point.”

“Kind of like you.”

“Oh shut up.”

“Anyway, so, the weird thing was, her dresses never seemed to fit her for more than a couple of weeks, and she never went out to eat with us. It was seriously odd, but neither of us wanted to confront her about it. We were young and immature, so we probably thought her problem would go away if we didn't acknowledge it. Well it obviously didn't. One day she was acting strange, but she was such a brilliant liar, we all thought it wasn't anything serious."

Another piece was put into the younger queen's mouth. Bianca absentmindedly stroked Adore's head.

"And then the day after she just didn't show up to the gig. We of course canceled it as we knew something wasn't alright at all. When we got inside her apartment, we found her there laying on the ground, unconscious. Her body had been eating at her heart which..well..killed her.”

A single tear made it's way down Bianca's cheek. She quickly fed Adore the last piece. Adore wanted to day something, but decided it wasn't the right timing, plus she had to fight her emotions as well. The story really hit close to home, and had actually scared her. Could that possibly happen to her as well..?  

"And that day I promised myself I can't let that happen to anyone else I care about. Not like this, and especially you. I love you so, so much and I can't lose you baby."

Adore was touched by those words and bubbly hot tears were running down her cheeks. She tried to sit up to hug Bianca but she didn't have enough strength to do so and just collapsed back. Bianca frowned.

"Don't try to move on your own right now. Do you want to sit up?" Adore gave her a nod, and Bianca gently pulled the younger queen into a sitting position, putting some pillows behind her so Adore could lean against something. They shared a relatively short but comforting hug, which pretty much used the last bit of the younger queen’s energy, but it had absolutely been worth it.

"Okay, now you really need to take something." Adore simply opened her mouth and allowed the older queen to put the pills and some awful tasting liquid in her mouth, and help her drink some water.

Adore was terribly exhausted, in pain and on top of that she now had to fight the negative voices telling her how terrible she had been for eating. The older queen immediately saw the change in the younger’s eyes. They were sparkling with tears but the color of them was darker and somehow dull as if their usual light had left them.

Bianca cupped Adore's face in her hands, being very careful about not touching her injured ear.

"Adore look at me. I'm really proud of you. I love you. Don't listen to whatever your head is telling you because it's lying. I promise you're not alone in this, I'll do everything I can to help you. I just want you to be okay."

Although Adore could not really believe those words, they felt good. She smiled. It was a tiny, but genuine smile.

"Thank you B. For everything. I love you too. So much. Thank you for not giving up on me."

“I would never.”

Adore's head dropped after her statement, a clear signal of her body needing rest. Bianca helped Adore lay down, making sure she was as comfortable as possible before switching off the light and laying down next to the younger queen, so they were facing each other. Bianca wrapped her arms around Adore who was still shivering. Usually touch helped the younger queen because it made her feel safe and made her feel like she was loved. Which she was of course. But the entire day had taken such a toll on her body and mind that some in her decided that feeling was suddenly overrated.

She couldn't feel Bianca's touch. What was wrong with her? She let out a small panicked sound, completely overwhelmed with the entire situation. Bianca could feel Adore's heartbeat get faster. She had to calm her down in any way she could. The younger queen needed rest so badly. She quickly turned on the light again.

"What's wrong? Are you in pain?"

"I-I can't feel anything anymore. H-help me.”

Adore sounded broken. She started clawing at her arms, nails digging into her skin, leaving angry red marks, a desperate attempt to just feel something, anything.

To say that this freaked Bianca out was an understatement. She quickly tried to pull away Adore's hands to keep her from hurting herself. But, of course, luck didn’t seem to be on their side. The younger queen was in such a deep state of panic her muscles locked up, leaving her unable to move. This meant that she kept hurting her skin with her nails. At this point, even Bianca felt helpless, however, she was determined to help Adore, no matter what. Taking a few deep breaths, she calmed herself down enough to think somewhat rational.

Gently, she began to rub Adore’s hands, trying to get the muscles to relax again. While the younger queen could probably not feel this, maybe her body would still respond. After a while it seemed to have worked and the younger queen’s death grip loosened.

"Don't ever do that again, baby. You're too precious to hurt yourself. We'll figure it out, I promise, but self harm is never the solution.”

Bianca suddenly remembered that applying cold things, for example cool packs, were supposed to calm you down if you put them on the inside of your wrist. It would be worth a try. Or at the very least less damaging than straight up self harm. As a drag queen she always had some of them with her, because, let's face it, drag hurts. She explained her idea to Adore and then hurried up to get said items.

The ice and its freezing sensation seemed to help a bit. Adore still wasn't able to really feel anything, but that tiny glimpse she got from the ice was enough to calm her down. She didn't really understand why this was even happening to her and that was scary.

But at the same time, knowing she didn't have to deal with all of it alone was really comforting. Bianca would be there for her at all times, just as she would be there for the older queen. They were so different, but their relationship just worked. The love they had for each other was something both of them would cherish forever, no matter what hardships they would have to face.

With that thought she finally was able to fall asleep in Bianca's embrace, just knowing she was safe, loved, protected and everything would be okay.

[bewachen]

@adagaium​

When he brings the older man back to his hotel he expected something entirely different than Ardyn dissociating in his bed—at least he thinks that Ardyn is dissociating. It’s textbook, really. If there’s one thing Gladiolus has learned in his ample times rendezvousing with people to fuck, it’s that things often don’t go as planned, but they usually don’t go this bad for him. Geez. 

Gladiolus scratches at the back of his neck when Ardyn presses his face into Gladiolus’ thigh. He’s probably looking for something to ground himself with and the things Gladiolus would usually offer aren’t readily available. No ice to chew on. That’s usually helpful, but not so much when you’re in a cheap shitty hotel room. Gladiolus runs his fingers through Ardyn’s hair before pulling the cheap blanket over Ardyn’s shoulders.

“Hey, uh, I think you’re dissociating. I’m gonna try to help, okay? Just keep listening to the sound of my voice, all right?” He keeps stroking his hair in no strict pattern, trying to keep himself from doing anything too repetitive. No—that might make things worse. 

He sings a song he used to study too—he imagines his voice isn’t as calming as the singer’s, but it’s all he got so it’ll have to do. All the while he strokes Ardyn’s hair, calloused fingers brushing through untamed locks.

“We'll bathe often in light of the moon We'll sew clothes from the stem of our womb We'll bathe often in light of the moon We'll sew clothes from the stem of our womb

Oh, my sweet fairy The past is strong, strong, strong Touch not my bosom for I'll not get far, far Color your cartography in your dreams of me Maps will not lie, will not lie, will not lie in me

Grow into gardens, the caverns you found in me Heal off the weightless you held from the start of me “

[fairiesherefairiesthere]

Fraxus Anastasia au #6

With every chapter, we travel further and further away from Anastasia lmaooo. Anyway mdudes, here’s the ao3-link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23144866/chapters/58558978

Summary: Once Evergreen lays eyes upon a sign adorned with a quaint little symbol of a needle and thread, her gaze clears up and she enthusiastically points at it. "Look Laxus, isn't this exciting?" He frowns. "A clothes shop?" he asks and Evergreen gasps in offense. "Not just a clothes shop you dunce. This is one of the best tailors around!" 

"Nice, but I'm pretty sure we can't afford that." He isn't trying to put a damper on her mood, but he's realistic. "We can't, but our glucose father over there can", she says, puts on a friendly smile and waves at Freed who's out of earshot. Unable to hear their previous conversation, he waves back with a smile that's just as gentle and friendly. "Two weeks ago he couldn't afford breakfast and traintickets. There's no way he can shop at one of the best tailors now." 

Chapter below the cut!

A few days later, Laxus is back on his feet and fit for being dragged around (or so Freed rules). The first thing that happens to him after an awesome breakfast is Evergreen clamping his arm tightly and hauling him through the streets of the town they're in. By the way her eyes are scanning the building it's clear she's searching for something in particular, but because he has no idea what she's looking for, he quietly awaits his fate.

Once Evergreen lays eyes upon a sign adorned with a quaint little symbol of a needle and thread, her gaze clears up and she enthusiastically points at it. "Look Laxus, isn't this exciting?" He frowns. "A clothes shop?" he asks and Evergreen gasps in offense. "Not just a clothes shop you dunce. This is one of the best tailors around!"

"Nice, but I'm pretty sure we can't afford that." He isn't trying to put a damper on her mood, but he's realistic. "We can't, but our glucose father over there can", she says, puts on a friendly smile and waves at Freed who's out of earshot. Unable to hear their previous conversation, he waves back with a smile that's just as gentle and friendly. "Two weeks ago he couldn't afford breakfast and traintickets. There's no way he can shop at one of the best tailors now."

Evergreen shrugs. "Freed said that there was something wrong with the bank in the previous town, but he doesn't have the same issue here. I'm not going to question it, I'll run when it's time to run", she explains and Laxus has the feeling that the three of them have definitely done that before. "And who am I to complain?" she asks, twirling around and it's then that Laxus notices her new dress and jacket. It looks good on her and he tells her so. "Flatterer", she grins coyly, "You should try those charms on someone else."

Before he can ask on who he should use his "charms", she enters the tailor's, beckoning him to follow. The inside of the shop is very cosy, materials strewn about in an organised chaos. In the distance he can hear the rattling of a sewing machine and the rustling of fabric, coming together in a cacaphony of noises that isn't unpleasant to the ear. A smell reminiscent of the cosy type of dust (the smell of one's old aunties house) hangs in the shop and the entirety of the shop makes Laxus feel comfortable.

Then Evergreen strides over to an old lady in the back of the room, talking to her while gesturing in his direction. The older dame approaches him after Ever's finished her explanation, giving him a thourough once-over. "We could make something out of this", the old lady croons and after that a few dizzying hours follow.

Under Evergreen's watchful eye, as neither Bickslow nor Freed entered the tailor's with them, he's measured, pattern is formed, fitted, amended and fitted again. Evergreen and the old lady talk about patterns, fabrics, silhouettes and other things Laxus knows jack shit about. The whole ordeal is befitting of a royal he thinks, realising he is one and then coming to the conclusion that he feels unworthy of the treatment. He feels like a streetrat getting dolled up to enter a poodle competition. He isn't supposed to be here, these two will notice soon enough and there's no way that Laxus would ever convince anyone that he was a prince. To be honest, he doesn't know if he believes it himself.

"Are you nervous?" Evergreen asks when the old lady is fetching something in the back, eyes and voice piercing through his worries. At first he entertains the thought to lie to her, to tell her he isn't nervous at all. But something tells him that Evergreen wouldn't take kindly to being deceived and more importantly, that she'd see right through it. "Yes", he admits. "It'll only be so long before I meet my grandfather. We'll meet and then he'll see me for the dirt poor fraud of an orphan I am. The thought of meeting him makes me nauseous."

Evergreen's mouth falls open in a small, surprised 'o' and then her expression softens, a smile gracing her lips. "Silly." is all she says, before turning her attention back to her magazine. It's the bare minimum, but the certainty in her voice does a good job of warding of his worries. It's as though the idea of him not being the crown prince is entirely ridiculous to her, an absolute joke of an idea. She too, is an incredibly smart person and so he thinks he'll make the gamble. He'll trust her judgement. After all, Freed alluded to him that he and Ever used to be close. He hopes he can regain that bond, because he finds himself respecting her.

He wonders if he should tell Evergreen this and bravely ends up trying to. However, the words sound clumsy to his own ears and he winces through it. When he's done awkwardly putting his feelings out there in the cluttered, dusty tailor's shop, Evergreen merely stares at him. "Well that was an experience", she dryly states and Laxus hides his face in his hands. Then she throws her arms around him, giving him a hug. Because of her small stature, she's completely buried into Laxus chest. So understandably he has a bit of a hard time making out her words. "God, you're stupid", she says, words muffled. "You big oaf, I loved you when you were an insecure little thing, I'll learn to love you as this tree of a guy. Don't worry about our friendship being lost, it's still there. We'll continue were we left off and build something stronger."

"I'd like that", he says, voice surprisingly rough as he blinks away tears. In the back of his mind, he can sense the edges of memories. Almost smells the little bits of tangerine stuck underneath fingernails on sunny days, almost feels the past fussing over clothes and almost hears the reluctance in her voice while waking him up. Those moments are long gone though and his mind has seemingly erased them, leaving him chasing fragments and pieces now.

Evergreen retracts from the hug and smooths out the worried wrinkles in his forehead. "Don't dwell on the past too much, live in the present for a bit." Laxus mulls it over before shaking his head. "Aren't we all chasing my past together? You three seem to know my past self better than I do. I think I'm entitled to that knowledge too."

The mixture of sadness and fondness on her face morphs into an expression that Laxus can't quite place, but she tells him not to worry about it. "Well your royal highness, let's reunite you with that past then! And to do that, we'll put you in some nicer clothes because God knows no one will allow you to meet with the tsar otherwise."

Finally, they're done. As they exit the tailor's, Laxus notices that neither of them has the clothes that were made for him. Confused, he asks Evergreen about them and Evergreen giggles. "They aren't finished yet, masterpieces like that take a few days. But no worries, we'll be hitting up more shops today. You won't be returning to the hotel with empty hands."

He cringes at those words. "I don't want anything really, I'd even be more comfortable if you didn't spend a single penny on me." Evergreen shrugs. "Too late for that." Then she glares at him and he winces, wondering what he did wrong. "Laxus, that attitude won't do!" she suddenly yells, attracting the attention of quite a few people in the streets. With hands that are none too careful, she turns him around so he's looking straight into a shop window. "What do you see?" she forcibly demands and he cringes as he takes a proper gander at his mirror image.

"A dirty young man, looks like he hasn't slept in years even though he did, someone who sticks out like a sore thumb, a guy who looks like he scavenges trash cans for food (not a pleasant experience, he recalls) and well, someone who looks like they've got a terrible character. The sort of person who'd bully kids for money, you know?"

The more he talks, the angrier Evergreen looks and so he just stops talking. "Sorry", he mumbles and Evergreen vehemently shakes her head. "No! You don't have to be sorry for a thing! It's hard to shake thoughts like those off." She takes a deep breath before going off again and Laxus wonders if she's had worries like his before.

"Laxus look at yourself again", she commands and so he does. "Straighten your back and put your chin up. I'm going to tell you something and I'll keep saying it until you believe it. You are Laxus Ivanov Dreyar, future tsar of Russia. You have the right to the throne and you have the right to look the part."

That part of the speech doesn't do anything but heighten his anxiety. Unaware of his rising turmoil, Evergreen continues. "But more importantly, you're genuinely a nice person. You're kind, honest and funny. You won't take shit from the most annoying of people, so please don't allow shit from yourself either. You're a good person and you're allowed to be proud of that. You have the right to be proud of just being you. I know you're feeling a lot of pressure to be someone high and mighty, like how you think a royal should act. But rest assured, the person you're travelling to meet knows you and has no such expectations for you. He merely wants his grandson back and he'll recognise you without a doubt. Please be kind to the self you think of as inadequate. You, Laxus, are a person worth of love of both other people and yourself."

She gives him a pat on the shoulder, firm and reassuring. Blinking away stubborn tears he nods. "I'll try to erhm, work on it", he says, because that's all he's got for now. "I'll beat it into your skull", Evergreen gently threatens, holding up a fist. "I look forward to it", he jokes and she shakes her head in amusement. "I'll hold you to it."

They continue their walk through the streets, hopping into shops that seem significantly less expensive than the taylor's and it makes Laxus feel more at ease. Comfortable with the reasonable pricing, he doesn't feel quite as ashamed browsing through items, scanning them with his eyes. "You can try them on, you know", Evergreen says with a light tone, holding a pink dress in front of her own body. "You think this colour suits me?" she asks, involving him more in the process. "Dunno", he says honestly, aware of his own... interesting sense of fashion.

"What do you think would look pretty on me?" Completely out of his depth, Laxus scans the store before pointing at a red dress with a leopard print and a furry neck- and bottomline. It is adorned with a studded purple belt with yellow details. It's colourful, he thinks and the yellow of the belt and the leopard print complement each other, right? Because leopards are yellow and all that.

"I wanted to buy whatever you pointed at to erase your awkwardness about buying things, but there's no way I will even look at that monstrousity for a second longer." Dejected, he pouts a bit. Surely it wasn't that bad?

It's then that he lays eyes on the biggest, clunkiest, warmest-looking jacket he's ever seen in his life. When he rubs the fabric between his fingers, he's ninety percent sure that it's real leather. That stuff lasts ages and honestly, he'd kill for a jacket that'd last him longer than a few weeks. He's had to brace enough winters without jackets because they simply were too worn-out when the cold really started to appear.

When she catches him staring, Evergreen moves over to look at what exactly he's looking at. Laying eyes on the jacket, she lets out a little pleased hum. "You know what? That's actually not terrible, take it." Aware of his lingering hesitation, she rolls her eyes and pulls it off the rack. Holding it in front of his body, she squints her eyes. "This'll fit fine, I'm going to pay for it." Just like that, she moves to the cashregister and before Laxus knows it, he has a bag with a new jacket in it. As they exit the store, Laxus notices that Evergreen has also donned a similar jacket. "It's comfortable!" she defends herself and Laxus shoots her a smug look. "Sure, whatever you say. I won't judge you if you admit to me having a superior sense of fashion."

"Never in a million years", she shoots back and he gives her a firm headpat, messing up her updo. "Sure, sure", he says as she squeaks in indignation. They run into Bickslow and Freed as they round a corner and immediately Evergreen throws her arms around Freed, whining about how she's being bullied. Freed gives her a pat on the back. "To quote a wise woman: With the way you're acting, you deserve to be", he says cheekily and laughs as Evergreen sputters. "You're supposed to take my side", she pouts. "Don't worry, I'm not taking the other guy's side either. I'm a completely neutral force." At that, Bickslow snorts. "Freed, you haven't been neutral, ever."

"Maybe there's some semblance of truth in that", he says before turning his attention to Laxus. "So, how did the shopping trip go?" Clumsily, Laxus retrieves the jacket from the bag and shows it to Bickslow and Freed. Under Freed's scrutinising gaze, he feels the need to explain himself. "It's warm."

"Why don't you put it on then?" Freed asks, "We can't have you being sick again." As Laxus does so, Freed momentarily takes the bag from him. As soon as the bag is deposited in his hands, Freed frowns and looks inside. "You guys really didn't buy anything but a jacket. Where are the casual pants, shoes and shirts? Gloves and a scarf for when it gets colder? A lighter jacket?"

Evergreen winces. "We we're getting there", she retorts and Freed raises one eyebrow. "You've been walking around for six hours." Handing the empty bag back to Laxus, he tells them to go get some food. "I'll handle the rest of it", he sighs, "because I truly do not think you guys will be able to put together a few outfits in the few hours that remain of this day. Go eat and have some fun instead. We'll be leaving this town soon, after all."

At first, Laxus's a bit miffed that Freed is treating him like a child, but then he's halfway through a really good local dish and he thinks it's alright. The stress of prices probably would've prohibited him from actually buying anything and from what he's seen, Freed knows how to dress well. Bickslow also said that they all should try one of the hotsprings the town has to offer. Because he's never been to one before, Laxus is pretty excited to try it. He's having fun, he realises as he watches Bickslow and Evergreen bicker over the shape of a potatoe.

After dinner, they lounge in their hotelrooms for a bit, waiting for Freed to return. When he eventually does, he as a few bags, a suitcase and a box with him. On the box Laxus recognises the same design as the one he saw on the tailor's sign. "She finished it early, because she was very enthusiastic about the project." Setting all the materials on the floor, Freed opens the sturdy leather suitcase.

"This will last you a while", he explains as he neatly folds the clothes and puts them in the suitcase. From what Laxus can see, there's more colour in there than he expected, but he'll trust Freed's judgement. They continue to peacefully exist beside each other until Bickslow throws himself onto the bed with a dramatic sigh.

"I can't take this anymore!" he yells, "it's tubby time!" Freed blinks owlishly, packing up the last clothes as Bickslow rolls off the bed, demanding attention by depositing his head in Freed's lap. "I demand that we visit the hotsprings."

"Do you now? We'll be leaving early in the morning, I think it's better if we go to bed instead." That makes sense, but it does make Laxus deflate a little bit. He had been looking forward to it after all. When he decides to stop moping and looks up, he catches Freed looking at him with an expression that could almost be fondness. "I won't be held accountable for your tiredness tomorrow", Freed says as he gets up from the floor and Evergreen and Bickslow cheer in unison.

They have to walk a little while to get to that specific hot spring, but Laxus doesn't mind. The night has coloured the sky dark, but the skies are clear so a million stars can be spotted. It's breathtaking. He thinks he's never felt more at peace in his whole life.

The sound of heels clacking on the cobblestone catches both his and Freed's attention. He doesn't recognise the woman looking at them, but the shift in Freed's expression tells Laxus that the other man definitely does. "Whatever happens, just play along", he hisses loud enough so Evergreen and Bickslow can hear it too. Unsure of what's happening, Laxus nods.

"Al, my dear boy is that you?" the woman asks, slowly stepping closer. A streetlantern catches her in its glow and Laxus is caught off guard by the smooth green hair that falls oh so daintily over her shoulders, combined with the striking blue of her eyes. This woman is one of wealth, she seems like the epitome of nobility. Freed gives the woman a curtsy and motions behind his back for them to do the same. "Lady mother", he politely greets her back.

[hattafan2593]

Couturiere - Chapter 10: Can’t Find Yourself Lost In Your Lie

As Chat Noir exited the elevator, he thought about his strategy.

He knew he didn't stand a chance against Couturiere by himself, and with Ladybug out of commission, he'd need all the help he could get.

Unfortunately, with his friends being held hostage, Carapace, Rena Rouge, and even Queen Bee were out of the question.

He supposed he could ask Kagami for help...but which Miraculous would be best suited for her...

But as he opened the front door of the hotel, he was met with a web of thread.

 Here we go again.

"Cataclysm!"

Just like before, the thread dissolved into ash...

...And then was immediately replaced with new thread, which seemed to glow and pulsate as it knit itself tighter together.

Chat was gobsmacked. "You've got to be kidding me."

A sinking feeling in his gut, Chat ran to the window and opened it.

Yep. More thread.

Couturiere had successfully trapped him inside.

 Be-beep!

And now he was changing back. Great.

Not bothering with the elevator this time, Chat ran up the stairs to the sixth floor where he knew the kitchen was...

...And found the kitchen doors completely bound with thread.

"Seriously?!"

 Be-beep!

And now he only had three minutes left. Merde!

Desperate, he ran downstairs and kicked open the nearest hotel door.

Luckily, there was no one inside. And even luckier, there was a cheese platter on the table.

"I know it's not camembert but it'll have to do. Hurry Plagg! It won't be long before Couturiere figures out Chat Noir's here!"

The cat kwami surprisingly gave no protest as he shoved wedge after wedge into his mouth. "I gotta admit kid, you're in a real bind here. This akuma's a lot smarter than the others you've fought. You can't even leave to get help! How're you gonna beat her?"

Adrien gave a deep, shuttering breath. "I don't know Plagg...I just don't know."

   Aaaaaaand...finished.

Not her best work, certainly, but still, not half bad if she said so herself.

Hmm? Ah.

Couturiere smiled as she felt her thread be destroyed. Cat Noir had arrived at last.

She immediately sent out more to trap the kitty inside.

She had taken every precaution she could think of. There was no way she could lose.

Still...

She looked down at her pincushion, gazing at it curiously.

Then she nodded, and carefully slipped it off her wrist.

"I'm gonna go hide this, okay? I trust you'll keep this between us."

With an evil cackle, she left the room.

   Hawkmoth beamed as he gazed out the window of his lair.

He knew using Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a good idea. His latest akuma was not only powerful, but every bit as intelligent and creative as her civilian counterpart.

Everything he'd worked for, everything he'd sacrificed, it would all be worth it.

"Soon, my love. Just wait a longer, and then we will be together again."

   Chat Noir had gone into espionage mode as he carefully searched every floor.

No sign of Couturiere yet.

And then, he reached the basement.

Sneaking down the very creaky stairs as best he could, he noticed something huddled in the corner of the room.

He nearly threw up.

Lila Rossi was hanging lifelessly from her bonds, her eyes glassy and empty, her cheeks tear-stained. Her mouth and chin were caked in blood, and as he looked closer, he realized that her lips had been sewn shut. 

"Dieu Tout-Puissant..."

"Like my work, minou?"

Chat spun around and immediately took up a defensive pose.

Couturiere was standing on the stairs, armed folded as she grinned down at them.

"Marinette...how could you?"

No. This isn't Marinette. Remember, she's been brainwashed by Hawkmoth. The real Marinette would never be so cruel.

"Not easily, admittedly." Couturiere said casually, as if she had been asked for the time. "What with all the screaming and thrashing. Good thing these walls are soundproof, eh?"

She shrugged, "You're more than welcome to try and remove them. But that string is nigh-indestructible, as you've probably already guessed. The only thing that can destroy it is your Cataclysm and...well, something tells me using it on a person's face isn't the best idea."

Chat clenched his fist, his other hand going for his staff.

"But enough chit-chat. I think we've stalled long enough." Couturiere held out her palm. "You could just make this easier and hand it over. Or hey, maybe we could work something out with Hawkmoth. Word on the street is you need a new dance partner. What do you say."

Chat smirked wryly. "Sorry, purrincess. But there's only one true partner for me. And as amazing as the real you is, you're not her."

Couturiere stared at Chat Noir. He noticed a slight twitch pass her face before she shrugged.

"Your loss." She then raised her hands and clapped loudly, twice. "Seize his Miraculous!"

At her words, several figures clambered out of the darkness and towards Chat. It was the other guests of the hotel! They were all wearing the same designer clothes that his classmates were wearing.

Smirking in satisfaction, Couturiere turned and made her way up the stairs.

One guest swung a fist at Chat, which he quickly dodged.

"I'm sorry!" The guest cried. "I can't control it!"

As Chat dodged attacks from the puppeteered guests, he reached out towards the back of the man's jacket and pulled.

 If I can just get it off...

But suddenly, the man screamed in pain, and Chat let go in shock.

"Oh, I forgot to mention?" Couturiere called from the top of the stairs. "My special outfits have woven themselves into the nervous systems of my little puppets. They're literally sewed into their skin. Taking them off would probably result in them bleeding to death. So...good luck with that."

And with that, she continued her merry way up the stairs.

"OH COME ON!" Chat screamed in frustration, as the guests closed in on him.