#just because grandma is hard of hearing and we need to talk loudly for her

[anaalnathrakhs]

me taking radiation damage near my family, fully aware that they're despicable to be around because of traits and behaviors we share,

[ohctranscripts]

Naughty Till New Years: Tenthly, a Time for Dreamers

[Bell tolling]

[Music starts]

Narrator: When Jacques gets very drunk, his eyes grow misty and he likes to talk about his grandmother.  And the janitor, lying in his cot at the top of the Eiffel Tower, dreams that Jacques is very drunk at an all-night cafe that he, the janitor, and all the stagehands have gone to together after a hard night’s work.

Jacques: Look at us.  Look-look at us!  I mean…

Narrator: Jacques raises his hand to quiet the table.

Margot: Alright, alright, everyone, quiet down.

Jacques: You know, my grandma, at the beginning of Seder every year, she would, uh, she would stop everybody just like this, right?  And, uh, and she’d say, ‘I just wanna thank God that all of us could be here together on this night.’  And it always stuck with me, you know?  Because, well, ‘cause as a kid, you got these bullshit detectors, right?  I just knew that she meant what she said.  And it impressed me.

But now, now that those people ain’t sittin’ there anymore, I mean, now that those people ain’t even around, and that place isn’t around, that table, even…  Now I know what those words meant.  Now I can, uh, now I can say ‘em myself.

Laeticia: Aw, we love you Jacques.

Pierre: That’s sweet.

Francois: Come on, sing a song!

Jacques: I still hate you.

Narrator: The stagehands clearly needed to blow off steam in the midst of such an extraordinary stretch of work.  And after a couple of hours of drinks and hors d’oeuvres, at last they ordered their food.

Margot: If you want some of this amazing matzo ball soup, then you’ve got to eat bread, don’t you?

Pierre: I’d like to try a little spoonful.

Margot: Sure, go ahead.

Pierre: Mmm.

Margot: It’s not quite as good as my grandmother’s, but, eh…

Pierre: This is—this is good.

Jacques: Don’t let the waiter hear that, because he’ll tell the chef, and then, my food hasn’t come yet.

[Laeticia laughing]

Pierre: Maybe he’ll come up and ask her for the recipe!

Narrator: And there’s laughter…

[Laughing loudly]

Laeticia: Mum’s the word!

Narrator: And the janitor enjoys this laughter most of all.

Laeticia: Yeah, sure.

Margot: Mr. Janitor, have you ever tried it?  Matzo ball soup?

Jacques: Yeah, kid.

Pierre: Yeah.

Julian: Yes.

Jacques: Oh, oh!

Margot: Oh, yeah?

Narrator: Margot passes the bowl to the janitor.

Jacques: Nothin’ else to add, janitor?

[Slurp, spoon clink]

Jacques: Slurp.

Pierre: Slurp.

Jacques: That’s all.

Margot: He likes it.

Jacques: He doesn’t like to talk too much, you know?  He’s like a cowboy out on the range.

Narrator: And a good deal of food and a great many drinks later, the stagehands realized there is not time for them to go home, and they decide to camp out in the stagehands’ lounge.  A sleepover!  This is indeed the janitor’s dream.  They walk back in the early morning air…

[Laughing]

…and it feels wonderful.

[Mumbling]

Narrator: And we find them now back at the Eiffel Tower in the stagehands’ lounge, setting up makeshift bedding beside the coffee machine and water cooler, filling up every available inch of floor space, and the janitor pretends to fall asleep in a chair to be part of the sleepover too.

[Laeticia laughing]

And be near them.

Jacques: Hey, hey, why were you—why were you drinkin’ bloody Mary’s after midnight?  Who does that, do they do that in Scotland?

Pierre: Hey, Jacques?

Jacques: Yeah?

Pierre: Um, you ever, you ever heard of this song?  Wait, let me remember the words.  [Singing off key] Go to sleep, go to sleep…

Jacques: That’s not a song.

Pierre: Shut your mouth and go to sleep.

Jacques: Yes, I remember that tune.

Laeticia: Goodnight, people.

Jacques: Night.

Margot: Night.

Narrator: But the janitor finds sleeping in a chair not quite as easy as he pretended, and decides to go upstairs because he, of course, has a cot.  Only the janitor would dream of going to sleep in the cot in which he’s actually dreaming in his dream!  I mean, what’s going to happen?  Infinity?

Well, we’ll never know, because back in the stagehands’ lounge, Jacques cannot sleep, no matter how hard he tries.  He’s far too excited.  And after lying there for countless minutes, Jacques has a brilliant idea.  He pictures having the stagehand shower all to himself, for a long, luxurious shower, with all the hot water.

And here we find him in nothing but a towel, making his way through the silent theater [whistling] to the stagehand shower.  He opens the door, and—

[Growl, then long scream]

Jacques: Polar beaaaaaaar!

[Echoing screams]

Narrator: It is twenty minutes later.  Jacques has summoned the entire crew.  They’ve taken the chains down that control the curtain, they’ve taken out the largest crate, they’ve lit several torches, and Laeticia stands at the front, leading her coworkers on.

Laeticia: I’m going to, er, rid Paris of this thing once and for all, send it back where it came from, eh?  Okay.  On ze count of three, huh?  One, two, tree!

[Door opens, dripping]

Jacques!

Jacques: Laeticia, I—I, it was in there, I—I swear, I, uh…

Pierre: It’s not like we need sleep, buddy!

Narrator: The stagehands slowly move in on Jacques!

Laeticia: No, no, no, everyone, don’t, don’t hurt him, we’re going to need him to help lift things later.

Jacques: I swear to god, it was really there.

Laeticia: Jacques, I can see, you know, your hair on the floor, huh, on the wall.  If there was a polar bear in ze shower, don’t you think I would be able to see a little bit of fur?  I don’t see anything white.

Jacques: There—there’s gotta be, there’s just… what about that one?

Pierre: It’s one of your gray hairs.

Jacques: Hey, I haven’t—I haven’t got a single gray hair on my head!

Pierre: I saw one the other day in the light.

Jacques: No way.  Really?

Laeticia: Okay.  Jacques, I got an idea.  Er, next time you see ze polar bear, feed yourself to it.

Narrator: And that is where the janitor’s dream ends.

[Dreamy music, Julian groans]

He sits up, surprised to find that he’s in his own cot.

Julian: Wasn’t I just on the observation deck?  Oh, no…

Narrator: He was supposed to polish the telescopes, and clean the entire observation deck!  But he’d started daydreaming and he doesn’t even remember coming to bed.

[Julian groans]

But the janitor has something else on his mind.  The cafe that he’d been dreaming of seemed familiar, but it was the familiarity of something else that woke him up.  Jacques’s scream.  There’s something so evocative about it, something that feels important, but he can’t put his finger on it.  He replays it in his mind over and over, studying its subtleties of timber and pitch.  And like the Madeleine cookie on Marcel Proust’s tongue, it becomes for him one of those brief impressions that call us to ourselves and say to us, ‘This is who I am’.

[Jacques screaming]

Ah, yes.  The janitor turns the scream over and over in his mind, replaying it in every conceivable context.

[Jacques screaming again]

Here it is, set to the Schumann piano quintet in E flat major.

[Jacques screaming over music, in key to the melody]

It’s beautiful, isn’t it?

Notice how even Jacques’s screams of terror find pitch, and how subtleties and nuance of taste and performance express themselves through it.

Yes, Jacques has no idea that he has a potential for perfect pitch, and a vast musical gift that along with the life of riches and fame it would bring, the world will never see, because Jacques’s only attempt at music was brief and long ago when, picking up a friend’s guitar, he showed startling aptitude, playing instantly, like this, decades before Joe Satriani.

[Electric guitar riffs over music and Jacques’s screams]

Unfortunately, his potential as a guitarist was instantly curtailed when, on wrestling his friend for that guitar…

Jacques: [Grunts] Ow!  My wrist!  You broke my fuckin’ wrist!

Laeticia: Oh, I’m so sorry!

Narrator: If only he’d been trained to sing opera as a little boy.

Jacques: Wow.  It’s turnin’ all blue and blowin’ up.  That’s so cool.

Narrator: Hmm, yes, well, never mind.  The point is that the janitor is a lot like Proust.

Well, they’re both French, and they stay in bed all day.

[Knocking, paper rustling]

Good lord, what’s this?  Somebody just slipped a letter under the janitor’s door?  The janitor doesn’t get letters.  [Music] He picks it up.  What could it be?

Julian: Oh my god, it’s from—

Narrator: We will return in just a moment.

[Christy Gressman break]

[Music starts up]

Narrator: Okay, we’re back.

[Paper rustling]

Who wrote it?  Who is it?  Beautiful handwriting.

Julian: Oh my god.

Narrator: Scented paper.

Julian: It’s from—

Narrator: Mr. Chouinard?  The janitor holds it close to read it in the dim light.

Chouinard: Julian, I was knocking on your door for an hour.  I could not wake you.  I pray zat you will see zis letter in time.  Julian, ze telescopes on ze upper observation deck, zey are beautiful!  Zey are objects of beauty, Julian.  You have cleaned zem, you have done it, Julian!  I thank you from the bottom of my heart, I thank you!

Julian: I did it!

Narrator: You did it!  I was so surprised, I stopped narrating.  Wh—read that part again.

Julian: Yeah, and I’ll keep reading.

Narrator: The janitor peers back at the page.

Chouinard: Julian, ze telescopes on ze upper observation deck, zey are beautiful!  Zey are objects of beauty, Julian.  You have cleaned zem, you have done it, Julian!  I thank you from the bottom of my heart, I thank you.  But!  Julian, ze Eiffel Tower has two observation decks!  Ze upper AND ze lower!  My boss came today!

Narrator: Here, the writing stops, and the paper seems to be wet with the mark of many tears.

Julian: Uh-oh.

Narrator: Uh-oh.  The writing continues below, detailing his boss’s visit in a nearly illegible tear-stained sprawl.

Chouinard: I—I make up excuses, I say, ‘No, let’s get a sandwich.  You are ‘ungry.’  I say, ‘We have a perfect—it’s a surprise, what you’re going to see on ze lower deck is a surprise.’  I am making up lies, and tonight—tonight, can you clean it tonight?  Can you make downstairs look like upstairs?  How did you do upstairs and not downstairs?

Narrator: The janitor puts down the letter.  He opens the door and peers outside.  The moon is high in the sky, it’s almost morning!  There isn’t any time!  What he did last night was a miracle.  On the upper observation deck, he finds that indeed the telescopes are beautiful, but on the lower, he finds horror of horrors!

Julian: Oh my god.

Narrator: What’s he going to do?  He has no idea how he did what he did last night!  He daydreamed through the whole thing!  There’s only one thing he can do.  He stares at the telescopes and he begins to daydream.

Meanwhile, in the Broadcast Ballroom, [harp music] the stagehands have been hard at work all day.  We find them placing perfectly polished telescopes throughout the theater.

Laeticia: Well, er, I don’t know that, ‘cause they use, er, cheese and stuff in certain—

Pierre: Cheese?

Jacques: You know, there’s not that much cheese in dairy, though, right, they’re findin’ out.

Laeticia: Really?

Jacques: Yeah.

Pierre: There’s not that much cheese in dairy.

Jacques: I’m sorry, there’s not that much dairy in cheese.

Laeticia: Who find that out?

Jacques: There’s not that much dairy in cheese, I read about it the other day.

Pierre: Well, that’s good for you.

Laeticia: Who say?

Jacques: Thank you.  I know.

Laeticia: Who say?

Jacques: Uh, like, all the scientists.

Laeticia: Okay, enough talking.  Pierre, Francois, you clean ze last of ze telescope, Jacques, you, er, sweep up over there, I’ll go with you and check out ze front of ze house.

Narrator: Francois and Pierre start on the telescopes.

Pierre: Hey, hey, did you see how the janitor cleaned these things?

Francois: Yeah, I mean… how’d he do it?

Pierre: I’d always heard he was terrible at cleaning.

Francois: He was like a man inspired!

Pierre: But there’s so many telescopes and he did them all in, like, three hours.

Francois: I know!

Pierre: He’s, like, one of them samurai or somethin’.  You know, you think they’re deaf, dumb, and mute, and then the bad guys come in, and then they’re like, woah, bam!

Francois: Yeah!  He’s, like, zen-like.  All tranced out.  But, I mean, like, if you’re not good at cleaning, how do you suddenly trance out and then clean thousands of telescopes perfectly?

Pierre: Why don’t ya ask him?

Francois: He doesn’t speak.

Pierre: Yeah.

Francois: We were at that cafe for two hours, he didn’t say a word.

Pierre: No, no, no, he said one word.  He said ‘Yes.’

Jacques: Look, the janitor doesn’t even know how to talk to people.  He doesn’t talk to anybody but that old man, and he doesn’t even talk to him!  He just kinda tells him stories.

Narrator: Now, before we jump all over Jacques, in all fairness, we must admit that the janitor never offered much in the way of social niceties.

Jacques: No ‘Hi, how ya doin, how’s your day been, how’s your life going’, nothin’!

Narrator: In fact, he never asked Coco a single thing about himself.  It isn’t normal to learn everything you know about your close acquaintances from eavesdropping.  We must admit he might do better.  Returning to the conversation, Jacques had said that all the janitor had to offer Coco were weird stories.

Jacques: Weird stories.

Francois: What do you mean by that?  What kinda weird stories?

Jacques: Weird.

Narrator: A sort of a wrestling match followed, which we’ll spare you.  The upshot of it was Francois and Pierre appealed to Jacques to give an example of one of these stories, which Jacques now will.  You see, when cleaning telescopes together last night, the janitor had captivated Jacques with a story to avoid engaging in small talk.  The story had made quite an impression on Jacques, and he felt that somehow it had made an impression on the janitor as well.  To illustrate how each teller brings out different aspects of a story, we’ll give you both their tellings, starting with Jacques.

Jacques: When he was a kid, in his neighborhood, there used to be this refrigerator repairman.  Now, this guy was a fucking genius.  He could fix anything.  Not just electronics.  If it was a machine, he could fix it, like, instantly.  Total genius.

Narrator: And the janitor.

Julian: Uh, I mean, you’d hear about him in the neighborhood constantly, I mean, especially the girls, and like, our mothers.

Jacques: Uh-huh.

Julian: It even reached me.

Jacques: None of the men in the entire town wanted to hire him ever.  All the women did.  Always.  You put two and two together.

Narrator: And the janitor.

Julian: If you asked a girl about it, they’d say no boy would understand.  We all feel the same things, everybody.  So I wanted to see him because I thought I would understand.

Jacques: So one day, the refrigerator breaks in the janitor’s house.  The janitor’s mother convinces his stepfather to call this guy.  The day he comes, all the mother’s friends, all the women from the neighborhood come over.

Narrator: And the janitor.

Julian: My… my mom had taken off work.  My mom didn’t socialize that much, really.

Narrator: And Jacques.

Jacques: The janitor’s watchin’ this, I mean, it’s like a party.  They’re all giggling, they’re having cocktails, it’s the middle of the day.  The janitor is like, what’s gonna happen?  So this guy shows up.

Julian: But he won’t come in, like, till everybody clears out of the kitchen and goes to the other side of the house.

Jacques: God.  So all the women, they take the party inside.  Janitor goes with them, but they don’t go to the other side of the house.  They all stay, quietly, fingers over their lips, smilin’, just on the other side of the kitchen door.  As the guy starts to work, they start staring through the keyhole, one by one, taking turns.  And they’re having such a good time, giggling, the janitor’s watching.  Finally, somebody notices him.  They ask if he wants to take a look.

Julian: I wanted to look so bad.  Cause, one by one, everyone who looked through it… they changed.  They looked… beautiful.  One of them took me by the arm, and they led me up to the keyhole, and it was my turn.  And I looked through it.

He looked ordinary.  That couldn’t have been why everyone was watching.  But the thing that really struck me… was that he loved our refrigerator.  I could feel it.

Jacques: Yeah?

Julian: It was beaming out of him.  It filled the room!  Love was visiting our kitchen.

Jacques: Wow.

Julian: And his look said, ‘It’s okay that you’re broken.  You’re gonna be fine.’  And he went right up to the refrigerator, he barely touched it, and he just gave it a little pat.  Like, patting someone on the back or the top of the head.  But I swear to god it started to work.

Jacques: Really?

Julian: It knew it could work and it wanted to work for him, and I knew that was what was happening.  And then he turned to the toaster, and he did the same thing!  And the light turned on, it wasn’t even broken, but there’s this light on it that had been broken forever and the light turned on.

Jacques: That’s, uh… that’s beautiful.

Narrator: And Jacques.

Jacques: The guy’s in there, he hasn’t taken out a single tool.  The guy’s in there, and he’s got his arms around the refrigerator, and he’s like, humpin’.

Laeticia: Jacques!

Narrator: But Laeticia freezes, because John Cameron, looking like he’ll badly need one of Laeticia’s patented coffee and ice bath pre-show routines with optional slaps, sneaks backstage and beckons Laeticia to him.

John: Laeticia, act casual.

Laeticia: Casual?

John: Look behind me, is there anything there?

Laeticia: Anything?

John: Following me, look down.

Laeticia: What, for someone short?

John: Lower.

Laeticia: There’s nothing there.

John: [Sighs] Good.

Laeticia: John, I think you need a rest.

John: A rest?  [Laughing]

Laeticia: Uh…

John: Do you know what I did today?  I took the flea to its book signing.  Let me just say that again.  I took a flea to its book signing.  They line up, I hold out my palm, it hops onto the book and signs its undetectable signature, and everyone’s just delighted.  They take photos with the flea, then they check the photos and they smile, but then they had their arms around nothing.  Who cares?  I ditched him.  At the book store.  Slid out the back way.  Got a couple of drinks downtown, met some very nice conventioneers.

Laeticia: You know, John, you’ve been drinking a lot and it’s not like you.

John: Lots of people like me!  You know, when it’s especially nice is when they don’t know who I am.  [Slurping] That’s when I know it means something, that’s what I need.  I don’t need fans, I don’t need friends, I need people who have no idea who I am and I need millions of them!

Laeticia: Er, John, maybe you should sit down, you know you’re tottering.

John: Friends can hurt you!

Laeticia: Uh…

John: Fleas can hurt you!  I’m gonna make a movie about it.  You know who I saw on my way back here?  I saw that old man, the night watchman, what’s his name?

Laeticia: Uh, Coco.

John: Coco, mm-hm.  He was carrying groceries.  I waved, he didn’t see me.  You know the look he had on his face?

Laeticia: What?

John: It was exactly the look someone gets when a person they care about has treated them badly, and it was a surprised look, and they’re replaying the event in their mind over and over, trying to understand, maybe they said something to their friend innocently, maybe asked a question and their friend suddenly runs off, inexplicably offended, leaving you there, and then the next day your friend forgets all about you because he’s got other things on his mind, maybe he has to polish a thousand telescopes, and there you are, all alone, with nothing else to think about, ‘cause your friend is the one person you’ve grown used to passing the time with and talking with and that’s where friendship gets you.

And what an amazing facial expression to express all of that.

Narrator: Suddenly, the janitor snaps out of his daydream on the lower observation deck.  He has a rag in his hands, and his arms ache.

[Music, bird song]

There’s a telescope in front of him.  It’s shiny, and beautiful.  He looks at the railing in front of him and that gleams, too!  And the floor beneath his feet and all around him, the telescopes shine like stars in the early morning light!  The entire lower observation deck is sparkling clean.

But the janitor registers none of this.  His heart pounding, there’s only one thought in his mind.  Coco.  How many nights had it been since he’d last seen him?  He could usually feel when Coco was there, and now that he thought about it, he…

The janitor takes off running.  The morning’s sun’s up.  Coco would normally be doing his paperwork now.  Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he goes out. The light in the ticket booth is off.  He walks up to it.  He tries to peer inside to see if Coco even clocked in tonight, but he can’t make it out.  He looks for a moment at the heating duct.

[Birds calling]

He’d climbed in heating ducts many a time in his fantasies, but never in real life.

Julian: I’m gonna do it.

Narrator: It’s daylight.  The morning staff is coming!  They can’t find you in there, it’s where the money’s kept!  But the janitor isn’t listening to me.

[Grunting]

Narrator: The janitor climbs up on the roof of the ticket booth.  There’s a vent between the booth and the building.  The janitor opens it up and pushes himself inside!  In real life, it’s terribly, terribly tight, and terribly filthy, but the janitor pushes his body through, into the ticket booth, where he tumbles onto the floor!

He’s shaken, but he gathers himself up.  He goes over to the time clock.  Coco… didn’t clock in tonight.  Or last night.  Or the night before.

The janitor looks wildly around for Coco’s paperwork, the night watchman’s log, a notebook in which Coco records his nightly activities, that the janitor knows the old man has turned into something of a diary.  The janitor’s eyes fall on a small locker marked ‘Night watchman’, but there is a padlock on its door.  The janitor is able to open the door nearly an inch before the lock stops him.  He peers into the space.  The thin line of light pouring through the crack alights on Coco’s book, which is sitting open on the locker shelf.  It illuminates something written at the top of the notebook page.

Julian: Hold on.

Narrator: Hard as it was to read in that thin crack of light, the janitor could make out these words:

Something has happened.  I’m not sure I can go on with the work I have undertaken at the Eiffel Tower.  I am no longer sure of anything.  It has to do with the janitor and the secret that surrounds him.

But, suddenly the janitor hears footsteps approaching!  It’s nearly opening time.  The tower employees are coming in!  Somebody’s coming towards the ticket booth.  He stayed in there too long!  He ducks down.  On the floor in front of him, there’s a piece of paper.  It must have fallen off the counter when he jumped into the room.  He recognizes Mr. Chouinard’s handwriting, it’s written to the ticket booth clerks, it’s… it’s an appeal for help.

And the janitor’s eyes settle on the words ‘Coco is missing’.

[Music]

[stewardofningishzida]

In Memoriam: M.X.

While in college, after I had switched majors from environmental studies to biology, I quit my work at the museum to focus more on medicine. Originally, I was studying for the MCAT and going to apply to medical school. To be sure that I knew what I wanted and to get a taste of working in a hospital, I signed up for an internship at a local hospital. After receiving the proper training, I became a nursing assistant. For the first few months, things ran smoothly. Even on tough cases, I did just fine…Until one.

M.X. wasn’t any trouble in particular. She was an elderly woman who was usually half-asleep and would go along with anything required. The nursing staff usually spoke loudly to her. I thought it was because she was hard of hearing. Though I wanted to try and be more respectful. So, I would usually lean over and talk to her normally, but closer and clearer so she could hear without me shouting at her. Keep this in mind for later.

I would feed her in the morning, move her to prevent bedsores, and wash her. She was one of the many patients in the orthopedic ward that I was rotating through. Unfortunately, she was completely bedridden and incredibly frail. Sometimes, she would come close to choking on her food because she had difficulty swallowing and I would need to be very careful while feeding her. I had a partner in the ward, but usually we went our separate ways. This time, she followed me in.

M.X. was in a rather bad state this time and had trouble being alert enough to eat anything. I had her sat up and was trying to coax her awake. When she opened her eyes and started talking, I would gently let her know it was time to eat. She opened her mouth and I carefully put a very small spoonful in to see how she responded. M.X. started gasping a bit and I got worried. So, I stepped back and whispered in my partner’s ear, “Could you please move closer to the code button in case she crashes or has something happen?” My oblivious partner responded in a normal voice, “What?” I sighed and gave her a look before saying in a hushed tone, but slightly above a whisper, “Could you please stay close to the button in case she crashes?” Unfortunately, M.X. had better hearing than we had previously thought. She had heard me.

M.X. was awake and looked at me and then my partner, who realized what just happened. My partner, deciding they suddenly had other patients to attend to, left. M.X. then asked me, “Am I going to die?” I was quiet because I was shocked at my partner’s obliviousness and my own mistake. She started to get scared and begged me to save her life. I apologized profusely and said that she was going to be okay. At this point, I think she was too upset to listen to me reassurance and kept asking me to save her. A nurse came in to check on me because I was in the room for longer than I should have been. I explained the situation quietly into her ear and she nodded, moving in to take care of it. I went to finish with my other patients, but felt horrible.

My other shifts went just fine, but for weeks afterwards, every once and a while, M.X. would wake up and beg the nurses to save her. I felt the guilt get worse. I knew she was terminal, but I wasn’t going to tell her. I was also angry at my partner for not paying attention. One day, I came in for my shift and M.X.’s bed was empty. She had passed away. That made me feel even worse. She was alone and scared. Yes, she was kept safe, warm, and fed, but it was horrible thinking about how lonely and terrified she must have felt. She never had any family members visit her. I don’t know if she had any left or if they had simply left her there. Either way, it was awful.

After that shift, I had a mental breakdown at the house. I was already depressed about losing my grandpa, the house, watching my mom be traumatized by her aunt burning to death, and listening to the verbal abuse my grandma heaped on my mom. This was simply too much for me to handle. I quit the internship and just did my college work and nothing more. It was all I could do at the time. My aspirations of becoming a medical doctor were shattered. So, I just drifted through my classes for months, not having any real purpose for my life…

Until my biology professor saw how well I did in lab classes and took me under her wing. That new mentorship was the new beginning that I needed and showed me the path that I’m on now. This is how I decided to become a biomedical researcher and help doctors from behind the scenes, developing new treatments or even cures for them to use to give patients a better chance at a healthy life. Not an MD anymore, but a Ph.D in biomedical science.

M.X. I hope that wherever you are, you’re at peace and happy. I hope you have plenty of company too. Also, I’m sorry.

Note: The nurses spoke loudly to her apparently to wake her up more. Though I only realized that later.

[sundaysundaes]

Remember Me

Mark Lee X Reader X Lee Donghyuck (Haechan) | Smut, Fluff, Angst | 14k | Soulmate AU, Friends-to-Lovers AU

CHAPTER 2 OF 2. Part 1 is here.

Summary: “The mysterious cuts and bruises that suddenly appear are actually injuries that your soulmate has obtained, and you share the same marks on your skin.” For Donghyuck and Mark, it's not just an old saying, it's not merely a concept, it's the truth. But as they grow older in a world where everyone puts their faith in the marks that attach their hearts to their soulmates, they have to stop believing.

Notes: This used to be an EXO Fanfic of mine called Remember Me but I want to share this story with my NCT family as well, so I rewrote several things and added more scenes to fit Mark and Haechan’s personalities better.

10

It takes Lee Donghyuck approximately ten times to ask Mark Lee to join their soccer game before he realizes that maybe Mark just really hates playing soccer. Or just doing sports in general, for that matter.

“I’ve told you, I don’t want to!” Mark shouts, cheeks reddening in anger. Donghyuck holds up both hands in the air, backing away. Mark is twenty-one years-old while Donghyuck is a year younger. Since Mark needed to be treated at the facility for his injuries back when he was in high school, he had to repeat another year and so he registered late in his new university in Seoul. Seeing how he’s a freshman like him with no friend other than Zhong Chenle in college, Donghyuck thinks they should get along better. Donghyuck has always been friendly and nice to anyone around him—Yukhei would agree on this straight away—but sadly, not everyone replies to him in the same way.

“Okay, okay,” Donghyuck says, laughing softly at Mark’s little burst of anger. “Chill, man. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought that maybe you wanted to play because, you know, you kept looking at us—”

“I wasn’t looking,” Mark harshly responds, tearing his gaze away from the other boy to glance at the girl who owns his heart since forever. “Well, I wasn’t actually looking at you anyway.”

Donghyuck furrows his brows at Mark’s last line that’s almost too quiet to hear. He’s pretty sure that Mark kept stealing glances at the field a moment earlier, so if it weren’t because of Donghyuck and Yukhei playing soccer with their upperclassmen, who was he staring at?

“I’m sorry,” Donghyuck says anyway, and he means it even when his tone sounds too playful. “Well, if you ever change your mind, you can just come over, okay?”

“I don’t do soccer,” Mark bitterly responds as he picks up his book back and places it on his lap. “Now can you leave me alone, please? I want to read in silence.”

Donghyuck scrunches up his nose at his attitude but decides to be the better man. “Alright,” he says, giving him the space he needs. “My name’s Lee Donghyuck, by the way. Nice to meet you, Grumpy Pants!” he exclaims with a cheeky grin before he runs back to the field. Mark Lee is unapproachable, but that only makes him more interesting to Lee Donghyuck.

***

11

It takes eleven minutes after the whistle has been blown for Donghyuck to score his third goal that day and she cheers loudly with her hands in the air before she realizes that she’s supposed to stare at her crush secretly. She clears her throat and tries to calm her racing heart as she sits back on the bleachers. Her eyes are still following the boy with the number 66 on the back of his jersey and her heart warms when she sees how his fluffy brown hair flutters under the wind.

That boy’s name is Lee Donghyuck. He’s one year younger than she is and he’s probably the brightest, and the funniest person she has ever met. He’s a bit weird, though, because every time he talks to her, he always speaks like he has known her for his whole life. And he does look familiar somehow, but she can’t remember why. 

Last spring was the first time she met him. She was looking around the campus’ ground, getting to know the environment better before she enrolled in the university by the next semester. And then a ball hit her on the head, making her tumble to the ground.

“Oh, shit! Sorry! Are you okay?” A boy ran to her with a familiar smile and beautiful sun-kissed skin that glistened slightly with sweat. He helped her stand on her own feet and kept apologizing for two times more until he saw her face and began to shout her name over and over again, voice getting louder each time. 

“Holy shit, it’s really you! I can’t believe this!” Without permission, he suddenly leaned in and wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off her feet as he laughed wholeheartedly. “Jesus Christ, Noona, it’s been years!” He was crushing her with his hug and she felt strange, afraid even. “I can’t believe I’m seeing you again! I’ve been looking for you every—”

Out of fear and discomfort, she hastily pushed him away. “D-don’t touch me!” she said, backing away and a wounded look fell upon his face. 

“N-noona, it’s me,” he said, attempting to calm her down by reaching out a hand. “It’s me, Donghyuck. We used to play together, remember? At the beach? In Jeju?”

Frowning was her response and nothing more, not remembering his identity at all and that made her sad because that boy seemed like he was really hoping for her to remember him. “I’m—I’m sorry but I don’t know you,” she said and the boy seemed heartbroken for a few seconds before he shook his head and smiled brightly once more.

“Oh wow, then this must’ve been super awkward.” He laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head before he offered her his hand. She could tell he was shaken up by it but he didn’t make it seem obvious. “I’m Lee Donghyuck. I’m sorry for being so weird. You just remind me so much of my old friend. But I got your name right, didn’t I?”

She nodded her head once, shaking his hand. “How do you know my name?”

“Let’s just say I’m a bit psychic,” Donghyuck replied, grinning boyishly and something stirred in her heart. She felt like she knew him but at the same time, she didn’t. It was weird but Donghyuck never worried about such a matter. He kept on talking to her, sporting his cheery grins and beautiful eye-smile as he did and his presence somehow filled the pang that had been so hollow in her heart. 

“Yo, Sleepyhead!” Wong Yukhei calls as he scurries over to her side. He’s breathing hard, beads of sweat forming and rolling down his temple. The man is 183cm tall with silky dark brown hair and a voice deeper than any man she’s ever known. “What’cha doin’, girl? Been here long?”

“Hey, Yukhei,” she greets with a smile, offering him her canned orange juice and Yukhei drinks it in one gulp without hesitation. “Just hanging out. Did you guys win?” she asks, trying to pretend like she wasn’t paying attention to the game (which is somewhat true because she only paid attention to Donghyuck).

“Oh, come on, we all know you were watching the game,” Yukhei says as he flops down next to her seat. “Or were you watching me?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Wong Yukhei is always blatant with his flirting but nobody ever takes him seriously. It’s common knowledge that Yukhei never wants to have a relationship with anyone other than his Soulmate. People tend to date anyone they want while they wait for their Soulmates to appear but Yukhei is a different case. Yukhei only wants the girl who owns the same scar as he has on his wrist.

“Hey, just a friendly advice here,” Yukhei says, “I know you really really really like Hyuck but fucking hell, woman, do you really need to stare at him all day long with that dopey, lovesick look on your face?”

“Hey!” She hisses, slapping his back. “Shut up, okay? And I wasn’t staring at him. I was watching the game.”

“Sureeee,” Yukhei slurs the last syllable. “Then what’s the score? No peeking at the scoreboard.���

She can’t answer. Seeing how Yukhei keeps on mocking her, she eventually sighs and buries her face in her hands. “Is it that obvious?”

“So obvious. Too obvious, even.”

“Do you think he knows?”

“Honey, I think even my grandma knows you have a crush on him.”

“Oh my God,” she sobs to her hands and when she lifts her face, her cheeks are in flame. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I can’t date him anyway, Not until I’m sure that he’s my Soulmate.”

Yukhei furrows his brows. “I didn’t know you were like me.”

“I just think it’s a safer option, you know?” She utters, huffing to the air. “Why would you waste your time dating someone who’s not your Soulmate when you know it’s not gonna work out in the end? Better choose the one so you won’t hurt anyone.”

Yukhei nods proudly and pats her head. “I feel you, Sister. I feel you.”

“Shut up, you’re gross,” she says, punching Yukhei playfully by his shoulder but the said man groans loudly and dramatically acts like she just struck his arm with a javelin. Yukhei stands up and barks, “Sure, when it’s Wong Yukhei, you go around and punch him like a sag of potatoes but when it’s Lee Donghyuck, you worship him like a freaking Greek God! Real fair, Sweetheart, real fair!” Then he throws a flying kiss toward her direction before she has the chance to actually kill Wong Yukhei. She just hopes that Donghyuck didn’t hear him.

She sits back on the bleachers, her heart thumping loudly but Donghyuck never stares back. He’s always like that when he’s too focused on his game. It’s part of his charm, really. 

It’s only Mark Lee who does, staring at her from across the field. He’s a fellow freshman she once met at the library, helping her with finding her books. She always thinks he looks kind of familiar as well but she doesn’t know why. Perhaps some kind of a déjà vu?

She didn’t see him sitting there before (her eyes were too focused on Donghyuck, like always) and Mark never really goes out of his class at break times anyway. He used to always spend his days in the library, working there and reading suspense or science-fiction novels even when he’s read them a thousand times already. This is the first time she’s ever seen him out on the field. Perhaps he’s watching the game too?

She smiles and waves her hand at him. “Hey, library guy!” she mouths, grinning but Mark never mirrors her smile in the same way. He always seems sad, she notices, like he’s trying to achieve something but something forbids him from doing so. She wonders what he craves so badly that he has to force himself away from enjoying his life like he’s supposed to. 

***

12

It’s twelve past twelve on a Sunday afternoon when Zhong Chenle passes a watermelon to Mark’s lap and speaks, “Bro, I know it’s not my business but your ex-girlfriend has a huge crush on that kid Lee Donghyuck.”

With a knife in his hand, ready to slice the watermelon into small pieces, Mark freezes and looks at Chenle with heavy pressure in his eyes.

“Whoa, dude!” Chenle immediately backs away, gulping when he realizes he just made Mark upset when the man is holding a knife in his hand. “Be careful with that shit, okay? You look like you’re about to kill someone!”

“Not someone, just you,” Mark replies, looking away and begins to slice the fruit. 

Chenle takes his seat back with more caution in his steps, just in case. “Look, Mark, I don’t want to make you mad.”

“A bit too late for that,” Mark replies, jabbing the knife into the fruit, and Chenle almost shrieks, fidgeting on his seat. The Chinese boy winces a little as he prepares to receive a strike from his friend but it never came. Instead, his friend throws him a small smile and Chenle knows Mark’s been kidding around. Chenle can never understand his sense of humor.

“You have a terrible sense of humor, has anyone ever told you that?” He calms his heart down. “You’re still not over her, huh?” Chenle asks, receiving a freshly cut watermelon from the slightly shorter guy. Mark doesn’t answer him and instead, he grabs his own piece of watermelon and strolls over to lounge on the couch. The sun is blazing outside, sitting on its throne, and burns everything considering it’s the middle of summer and even with this thin layer of clothes he’s wearing, Mark just can’t stop sweating. 

“Dude?” Chenle calls, following him to the couch, and steals a glance at him. Mark is just there, sitting and staring at the fruit without doing anything much other than breathing. “Hello? Earth to Mark, you alright there, buddy?”

Mark slowly moves his gaze back at him and for the first time in forever, he pulls on a gentle, but heartbreaking smile. “I would’ve gotten over her if I could but it’s hard.”

Chenle hums quietly. “You guys loved each other that much, huh?”

“Loved?” Mark chuckles, proffering his piece of watermelon to his friend’s hand in case Chenle wants more. He does. “It wasn’t just love. She was my everything.” The Chinese boy snorts at that but he can actually sense the truth behind Mark’s words, which is why Chenle chooses to stay mute. “I was about to propose to her, you know?” Mark confesses, crestfallen. “We were nothing but stupid brats going on about love and crappy things like that and I had this stupid ring with me that I wanted to give her. I was about to make a promise to be with her forever. I didn’t care whether she was my Soulmate or not. I didn’t care if we were too young to be engaged. I just loved her so much—I still do but…”

But she forgot about you, Chenle wants to say but he decides to keep himself in silence. While Mark was hurting physically during that period after the accident, she was losing her mind. She had recurring nightmares and she lost almost every part of her memories. She lost her childhood, she lost her friends, and most of all, she lost him. She couldn’t see Mark. He never existed in her world. Her loss of memories had helped her to recover quicker than him and her parents also made her go to many therapy sessions in her last few months at the hospital. She’s now healthy and happy and Mark is grateful for that but, of course, a huge part of him died with her that night before the first snow fell upon their smiles.

Chenle forms a question after a while. “Why don’t you try and approach her again, then? You know, start over. Maybe she could fall in love with you again.”

Mark absentmindedly touches the skin around his nape. “It’s better this way,” he says, smiling weakly to the ground. “She’s happier without me in her life.”

“But you’re hurting,” Chenle counters. “And I’m not sure you’re gonna get better tomorrow if you keep being like this.”

“You’re right, I’m never gonna get better.” Mark laughs softly. “I’m gonna remember this forever and I’m gonna live through this every day. When I wake up in the morning, the first thing I remember is how I agreed to go with her to town that night. If I hadn’t gone to her grandmother’s place, if I hadn’t gone with her outside—”

Chenle shakes his head. “You didn’t know what would happen—”

“It doesn’t matter!” Mark shouts breathlessly, his hand going over his heart. “It happened and I lost her. That’s it, Chenle. Nothing’s going to change that.”

Chenle looks conflicted and hesitant for a few seconds before he reaches out and pats Mark on the shoulder. “Everything will get better,” he says, trying to spread joy to his friend. “You’ll forget her when you meet your Soulmate. Try to live your life like me, buddy. No good will come from worrying over things that have been done.”

Mark returns his smile but his eyes stay cold.

His dreams always consist of her smile and how her eyes once turned crescents when she whispered, “I love you too, Mark Lee.” His dreams always reel in the way she held him close that night, how she wanted to make him feel happy, how she wanted to be with him, how much she missed and loved him.

It never happens in real life anymore. Mark Lee never existed in her life that way. And that is why Mark stops waking up with a smile on his face.

“Chenle,” Mark starts, “Are you friends with that guy?”

“Who, Donghyuck? Yeah, he’s cool. Gets pretty whiny and annoying most of the times, but—”

“There’s something I want you to tell him.”

“O… kay…” Chenle is startled by the sudden gravitas in his tone. “What is it?”

“She believes in Soulmates,” Mark says, smiling to himself and somehow Chenle can see the disappointment and frustration in his eyes. “She has a scar on the back of her neck. So if he doesn’t have the same scar, it’s better for him to just stay away since he’ll end up hurting them both in the future.”

Chenle analyzes his friend’s expression but he’s still left clueless. “And you’re okay if he turns out to be the one for her?”

Mark glances at him, smiling while his eyes show nothing but a pang of guilt and pain. “At this point, Chenle,” he murmurs, “I actually wish for it to happen.”

***

13

“So she believes in Soulmates too, huh?” Donghyuck asks, his shoulders are slumped forward in disappointment. It’s Friday the 13th and while everyone is feeling spooked out over the infamous urban legend, Donghyuck is feeling upset over an entirely different reason. “Damn it!”

Yukhei snorts. “Dude, everyone believes in Soulmates; it’s only you who don’t. It’s basically, like, written in the law or something.” When Donghyuck shoots him a look, Yukhei just huffs. “All I’m saying is it’s not just a myth, dude. This shit happens.”

Donghyuck knows that but he’s really interested in her—well, he’s always been interested in her, since back then when they were young even. Donghyuck didn’t think he’d be able to meet her again but well, luck is apparently on his side. Not that much, though, because she forgot about what they used to have. Donghyuck learned along the way that she’d gotten into an accident in high school and that was how she lost her memories. He understands the situation and he’s willing to restart everything again because even after all this time, Donghyuck still likes her. And for these past few months, Donghyuck has become so close to her once again and it’s like they’re back to that time where they used to play together on the beach with sands under their feet. She still smiles and gazes at him in the way she did back then and Donghyuck thinks her beauty lasts for eternity.

She even said one time, as he was trying to catch his breath after his soccer practice, that he reminded her of the sun, the way he shone so brightly when he played on the field, how his every movement and smile drew attention from the crowd.

“You should be called Haechan,” she said sheepishly, bumping her shoulder against his in a playful manner. “I think it fits you more. What do you think?”

His heart was racing for an entirely different reason. He couldn’t believe that even when she had lost her memories, she still repeated the same thing in the exact same way. So Donghyuck swallowed hard, trying his best to appear nonchalant, and said, “I think that’s the stupidest pet name someone has ever given to me, but it’s okay. You can call me that.”

It would be great if they could be something more. But well, if she believes in Soulmate and if Donghyuck turns out to not be the one she’s waiting for then they probably shouldn’t start anything to begin with.

“This whole Soulmate thing sucks balls!” Donghyuck whines, kicking a pebble stone to the side of the street as he walks next to his tall friend on the sidewalk. “I really want to try and be with her, you know? I didn’t try anything back then because we were too young to understand our feelings but now we’re older and I really, really like her but God-fucking-dammit, Yukhei, what if I’m not her Soulmate? What if she won’t accept me?”

Yukhei pats his friend on the back. “Well, you still have your chance, Hyuck. Maybe someday, she’ll fall and bruise her knees or something and you’ll get the same scar—her scar. Who knows, right? Maybe you are her Soulmate.”

Donghyuck doesn’t put a lot of wish on that. He’s never much of a believer anyway. “She doesn’t seem to have scars now, though,” he says, “So how can we tell who her Soulmate is?”

“But you don’t have scars too, do you?”

“Actually, I—”

“Donghyuck-Hyung!” A skinny boy with fluffy blond hair, calls from somewhere behind him. Donghyuck turns around and grins when he sees the boy approaching him. “Hey, asswipe! What’s up?”

“I told you not to call me that.” But Chenle reciprocated by giving him his personal high five. After a quick chatter, Chenle drops his smile and displays a solemn look on his face. “Hyung, there’s something I need to tell you.” 

***

14

It’s on the next day, June 14th, when Donghyuck literally steals Yukhei’s key (he thinks Yukhei wouldn’t mind anyway) and drives his motorcycle for less than a mile, heading south. Donghyuck doesn’t waste any more time. Since he heard what Chenle told him yesterday, Donghyuck has been so anxious. He needs to see her now and he needs to see her fast.

That afternoon isn’t actually chilly, but Donghyuck brings his black leather jacket with him—just for luck. He wears a thin white shirt underneath it and a black full covered helmet on his head. He’s brought another helmet with him, not caring about the possibility of her rejecting his proposal of an impromptu date. Donghyuck has always been that confident.

Getting the address of her house isn’t actually easy, but it’s not the hardest question in the world either. When he stops in front of her house, his wristwatch says it’s 02.14 p.m. He still has enough time to go watch a movie with her and have dinner together—if she agrees to go on a date with him in the first place. 

Jumping out from his—or rather, Yukhei’s—motorcycle, Donghyuck takes off his helmet and ruffles his short hair, pushing back his fringe with his lean fingers. He doesn’t say it often but he thinks he looks a bit hotter when his forehead shows and if he’s going to charm this girl off her feet, he needs all the luck he can get. And that is why he’s putting his RayBan sunglasses on too.

He picks up his phone and dials her numbers. She answers on the second ring and it’s cute that her “Hello?” sounds more like a panic shout rather than a friendly greeting. “Hey, baby,” Donghyuck jokes with a grin, but it makes her gasp. He hears her stutter out his name in return. “Can you go out to your balcony for me?”

“W-why?” she asks, a bit breathlessly for some reason. Donghyuck secretly hopes his voice is the reason behind it. He likes to think he has that effect on her, because sometimes, when she wears her floral blue shirt combined with her white skirt, she has that same effect on him as well. That feeling of needing to breathe when you’re already breathing. It’s weird but he likes it.

“Just do it, please?” he begs, even displaying his puppy eyes though he knows she won’t be able to see them.

“Umm... O-okay then…” 

A moment later, she appears on her veranda, wearing a short, casual navy blue summer dress with a white collar that looks like a sailor’s. Her hair is untied, flowing over her shoulders and Donghyuck can already tell that she’s about to tuck some strands of her hair behind her ears. He always loves it when she does that. He’ll love it even more if one day she gives him the chance to do it for her.

“Umm, I’m already out,” she nervously mumbles out, pushing her locks to the back of her ear. Her phone is strapped to her ear and she examines her surrounding until her eyes land on the man who’s leaning on a (stolen) bike.

“Hey,” Donghyuck smiles that one smile he knows could drive women crazy. He adds this thing with his eyebrows just in case she’s not affected by his smirk. “So, I woke up this morning and I thought of you. Wanna go out on a date with me?”

She gapes, her cellphone almost slides down from her hand. “I-I’m—” Even Donghyuck can see her blush from under there. “Donghyuck-ah, I—”

“How many times should I tell you?” Donghyuck sighs, playfully sending her a glare. “Just call me by that name you gave me.”

“D-didn’t you say it was stupid?”

“It’s stupid because it makes me feel special.” And he doesn’t lie, not in the slightest. “You make me feel special.”

Her face burns even more. “Look, I don’t think I can go—” She takes a look behind her, worriedly glancing to her room. “I’m supposed to stay in my room and—”

“Have you ever broken any rules before?” Donghyuck asks and if she hadn’t lost her memories, she’d say yes and tell him that that’s the exact reason why she got into that accident. But this new version of her only gnawed at her lip worriedly. “Come on, Noona. You don’t need to tell your parents.” He’s extremely persuasive, especially with that signature eyebrow-raise of his with his eyes twinkling mischievously after he took off his sunglasses. “Just come with me. I’ll take you back home before they even know you’re gone.”

It’s tempting. Donghyuck’s offers are always tempting and he looks really good in that leather jacket while sporting his messy pushed-back hair. She once thought Donghyuck looked the best wearing his soccer jersey on the field because he appeared so young and boyish that way. But this. This exact style. He reeks of masculinity and pure sex—

“Are you coming?” Donghyuck snaps her away from her reverie. She continues nibbling on her lip in anxiety, looking back again before she glances at the boy once more. “Okay, yes,” she finally says and Donghyuck tries not to jump and stab the air in victory. “I can’t go down from the stairs, though. My father’s in the living room.”

“Well then, jump,” he simply says, walking closer until he stands just below her balcony and tries to be as quiet as possible as he strolls through the bushes. “Come on, Noona. Jump. I’ll catch you.”

“T-there’s no way I can do that!” Her cheeks spark bright red. “I’m wearing a dress!”

“Well then, I’ll close my eyes.” He spreads his arms wide to catch her and simply closes his eyes like he said. “See?”

“How are you planning to catch me when you can’t even see me?!” She protests and Donghyuck wants to laugh because her shrieking voice is so pleasantly cute.

“Hey,” Donghyuck says, opening his eyes again just to gaze straight into her eyes. “I won’t let you fall. I promise. Don’t you trust me?”

Something in the tone he uses lights a spark in her chest. “O-of course.”

“Then trust me.” Donghyuck smiles again and shuts his eyes closed. “Now jump.”

She still hesitates, thinking this over and over again with her hand pressed nervously against her chest. Finally, she decides to just get this over with. “I’m—I’m a bit heavy, though.”

“You’re not heavy, you’re pretty,” Donghyuck smoothly says and on any other occasion, she would have laughed because that’s probably the worst line to say at the moment. “Now come on. Jump.”

“But Haechannie—”

“Jump!”

And she does. With a rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins, she jumps in her sailor dress with only her phone being held in her hand. She’s about to yelp but the fall is too fast that it ends before she can scream. True enough, Donghyuck manages to catch her with his arms and she falls with a small ‘oof’ to his chest. 

“Hello Kitty panties?” Donghyuck teases, his spine being pressed against the ground and although it does hurt a little, everything is worth it since she is now lying on top of him. “Really, darling?”

She gapes, blushing madly, and lands a small slap on his chest to cover her embarrassment. “You said you wouldn’t look!” She makes too much rustling noises over the fuss, while Donghyuck tries to contain his laughter. He would’ve let her hit him again if he didn’t hear someone’s footsteps closing on them.

Her father is now walking through the front door. 

Donghyuck does the most brilliant thing to do at the moment—according to him anyway—which is to roll to his side and hide both of their bodies behind the bushes. She ends up lying on the ground with Donghyuck’s body covering her. He holds her head close to his chest so she won’t knock herself on the ground. Her ear is pressed against his heart and she cannot focus when Donghyuck pulls her closer and warns her with a whisper, “Be quiet...” 

Her father doesn’t take a detailed look around the place, probably wondering whether it was just the neighbor’s cat doing noisy things as always. He ends up leaving after picking up the newspaper that he forgets to retrieve in the morning.

When the sound of the front door being closed reaches their ears, they both let out a relieved sigh. “Holy shit, I thought I was about to die,” Donghyuck says, laughing when he sees her holding back her smile. “Your hair’s a mess.” He reaches out a hand and fixes her fringe and that’s when she realizes that she’s in such proximity to his face and she’s literally lying underneath him.

She immediately pulls away and stands up properly before she slightly bows with her face blazing hot. “I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hold you like that—”

“Hey, relax,” Donghyuck says, cleaning the dirt off his ripped jeans as he stands up as well. “It was my fault. And I was enjoying every second of it anyway so...” He grins that familiar boyish smile of his and although she pouts and pushes him playfully by the shoulder, inside her thumping heart, she feels alive.

“I can’t believe you saw my panties,” she mutters, fixing her hair as her cheeks continue to burn. “So embarrassing.”

“I think it’s cute.”

Her face is about to explode. “You promised you’d close your eyes!”

“I didn’t.” Donghyuck wiggles his eyebrow once in a teasing manner. “I only promised you I’d catch you. And I did, right? I didn’t let you fall.”

She looks away, trying her best to calm her racing heart. “Y-yes. Thanks.”

“My pleasure. Now, come on,” Donghyuck says, taking her hand without permission (not that she’d mind) and guides her to his—Yukhei’s—ride. “I’m thinking of relishing our childhood memories and—” he stops when he sees her frowning and he looks flustered because, “God, I’m so stupid. Of course you wouldn’t remember.” His voice is quiet before he gets a grip of himself and clears his throat. “What I want to say is, there are two choices you can choose: First, it’s a safe option where we go out to the movies, choose whatever it is that’s lame enough so you’ll get bored and start talking to me during the play—hey, stop laughing!” Donghyuck pokes her on the cheek when she giggles at his words. “And then we’ll get dinner afterward before I take you home. Or second, and this is the more daring one, we go to the nearest beach and see whatever the hell that’s going to happen there and just let God decides where we go next.” He gives her another spare of his helmet. “So what do you wanna do?”

She thinks about it for a few seconds, just to build the hype, before she says, “I’ll go with the second option.”

“Well, I am hurt,” Donghyuck mutters. “You just thought talking to me during the movie would be boring, didn’t you? You’ve underestimated my interpersonal skills, woman.”

“It’s not that,” she replies, grinning as she sits behind him and wraps her arms around his waist. “I’m just worried that you’re gonna order pizza for dinner and I don’t think that’s gonna be romantic.”

“Ah, so you want our situation to be romantic, do you?” Donghyuck teases, her plan backfires. “I knew you’ve always had the hots for me.”

Her jaw hangs low on her blushing face. “That’s not what I—” And her words end up with a scream when Donghyuck suddenly drives off. She winds her arms tighter around his waist and Donghyuck laughs because she’s adorable in the way he finds to be the cutest form possible.

To her, this is the first date she’s ever experienced. She has never been with anyone before him and she likes Donghyuck so much because he seems so carefree and fun, while on the other side, dangerous and unpredictable. He’s a bit four-dimensional and she wants to know what’s hidden more under those multilayer personalities of his. But what attracts her the most is how she feels familiar and safe in his presence. She feels like she can trust him as if she’s known him for her whole life.

Had the accident never happened, she would’ve noticed how different Donghyuck is if being compared with her past boyfriend, Mark Lee. While Donghyuck is impulsive and daring, Mark has always been the cautious one. Mark is the guy who pays attention to every little thing that happens to her—even when she doesn’t realize it herself. While Donghyuck, on the other hand, is that person who desires simplicity. The boy who says, “I want you” instead of “I need you”. And that’s entirely different than how Mark, the boy who offers commitment and loyalty, had promised her once.

But memory is just a memory. Donghyuck used to live in the shadows of her mind, but now he’s alive and there’s no way he’s going to let her go for the second time.

It’s time for Mark to stay in the darkness and just let go of what he used to have.

This time, the table has turned.

***

15

Mark Lee sighs for the fifteenth time that day because his mother keeps on pestering him to go back to his daily therapy session but he’s not having any of it. Not today. He’s already tired of having to go to the doctor every day only to hear the line, “There hasn’t been many changes but don’t worry, we’ll get you better soon, Mark,” or maybe in some better days like yesterday, he got a “Good news, Mark! We can start the surgery by the end of the week! That is, of course, if you’re willing to follow the procedures and healthy enough to undergo the surgery.” 

Mark is scared to his bones but he doesn’t tell anyone that. Being consumed with fear isn’t something he wants to be proud of and he knows that it won’t do anything other than making people worry about him more. He’s had enough of that. So he just smiles and tries to get better for his mother.

Not today, though. Today, he needs to let go.

This is why tonight, he puts on his sweater and strolls out of his house without telling anyone. He rarely breaks any rules but today, he just wants to get out and breathe the outside air as much as he wants to. He takes a deep breath and with trembles in his fingers, he reaches out for his brother’s bicycle. The memory of the accident is still clear in his head but he’s already promised himself he’d move on. And this is him, moving on.

He rides the bicycle slowly, still remembering to take care of his condition. He keeps pedaling until he reaches her new address. They used to live next to each other, but after the accident that happened with Mark, her family thought that it’d be better if they stay as far as possible from each other. But here he is now, standing in front of her gate with an anxious heart and shaky fingers, just like how it was when he picked her up for their first date.

Mark weakly smiles to himself. “Just say your goodbye and leave, Mark. Just do that and move on.”

He presses the doorbell and waits.

A moment later, she comes out wearing a knitted sweater Mark once gave her for their second anniversary and that sight of her made him feel like the earth is sinking below him. Why is she wearing that? He screams in his mind, as his eyes grow wide. As far as Mark knew, her parents tried to keep every little bit of Mark away from her, to keep her safe just in case it’d bring something painful to her shattered memories. Her mother probably mistook it for her own sweater and that was why she didn’t throw it away.

“I’ll call you later, okay, Haechannie?” she says, giggling to her cellphone as she walks toward the fence that separates her from him. “I know. Of course, I’ll brush my teeth. I’m not you.” She laughs quietly, muttering ‘one sec’ to Mark as she tries to drag open the gate. “Okay, hey, I really need to go. Someone’s here.” 

Mark tries to stop the wounded look from appearing on his face. Someone, Mark thinks, smiling bitterly. She doesn’t even know my name.

“I’ll call you—” Then she laughs again, her cheeks getting red and Mark secretly hopes that it’s because of the cold, and not over Donghyuck’s words from the other side of the line. “Yes, okay, good night. I’ll see you later, Haechannie. Bye.” Then she shuts her phone and looks at Mark apologetically. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. My boyfriend just kept on babbling,” she explains, chuckling in embarrassment. “Hi, is there anything I can help you with?”

Her laughter still sounds as airy and adorable in his ears and Mark tries to erase the sickening feeling in his gut after knowing that he’s no longer the reason behind her laughter.

“Hi, uhh…” Mark rubs his nape, clearing his throat. “You probably don’t remember me, but umm—we’ve met at the library? I helped you with your books.”

She frowns for a few seconds before her eyes light up. “Ah!” She exclaims, smiling widely at him. “You’re the library guy! Hi, yes, of course, I remember you.”

Library guy. He can’t take it anymore. “It’s Mark,” he murmurs.

She blinks. “What?”

“My name,” he says, louder this time. His fingers are curling into fists on the sides of his jeans. “My name is Mark Lee.”

“Oh,” she says, throwing another heartwarming smile as she offers him her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Mark Lee.” The way she says his name still feels natural to his ears, which only makes him suffer harder. She tells him her name, wanting to give him a firm handshake.

“I already know your name,” Mark says, and somehow his tone seems cold. She drops her hand with a surprised look on her face. Mark wonders whether she sees the dejected look he displays on his face because her smile vanishes completely and she seems utterly heartbroken. To her, Mark looks exactly like Donghyuck used to stare at her sometimes—that look when someone wishes to be remembered. She doesn’t know what happened in the past but she knows she’s hurting him somehow.

“I’m sorry,” she says, almost in a whisper. “I have… I have a bad memory so… If we’ve met before and I can’t remember you, I’m… I’m really sorry.”

Mark wants to slap himself on the face for being so selfish. He just hurt her again. She doesn’t even know him and he just hurt her again. “No, it’s not that,” Mark hurriedly explains with a reassuring smile. “I know you because I once saw you writing down your name when you borrowed the book. I work at the library, remember?”

She blinks twice before she lets out a relieved sigh. “Oh... Right…” she utters, smiling to herself. “Well, I… Thanks for helping me out back then.”

She looks just as beautiful as she used to when she snuggled up against him on the couch. Mark brings his hands into the pocket of his jeans so he won’t accidentally stroke her cheek or lace their fingers together. “No problem.”

“So, what’s up?” she chirps and Mark realizes he needs to find a better excuse than this is probably the last time I can see you and that’s why I want to say goodbye properly.

“It’s umm…” It’s painful for him having to lie straight to her face like this. He never once lied in front of her when they were together but now that they’re living separate lives with no connections to each other, it feels like that’s what he’s been doing all the time. Just lying, forcing himself to smile,  distancing himself from everyone, and pushing himself to say her name effortlessly even when the pain in his chest is overwhelming. “Nothing important, really,” Mark says, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “I just came here to remind you that you need to return the book by tomorrow.”

“What? Oh!” She gasps, placing a hand over her mouth. “You’re right! Oh God, I almost forgot. Thanks for reminding me.”

Mark only smiles back and his eyes are soft and gentle. “No problem. It’s my job anyway.”

She laughs a bit. “Such a hardworking young man. Next time you could just call me, you know? You don’t have to come over to my house. It’s freezing.” The way she talks is always fascinating to see and hear. Her smile never leaves her face and her hands are constantly moving animatedly every time she opens her mouth. Mark can actually feel his heart racing at the sight of her. “Oh, look at that.” She announces, glancing at Mark’s hands that are starting to go red from the cold. “You’re not wearing any gloves. Wait for a sec, will you? I’ll get you some!” And she hurries back into her house before he can stop her.

When she comes out a moment later, she carries a pair of her gloves (Mark remembers well the salmon pink color and the white stripes at the end of it) and her cheeks glow in a darker shade of red when she says, “These are mine but they’re a couple of sizes bigger on me so I hope they’ll fit.” She tucks his hands inside the gloves exactly like that time before Mark pushed her against the fence and poured his feelings against her lips. When she’s finished, she also asks, “There. Better?”

Mark can’t stop himself from feeling hurt. It’s like his heart is being ripped apart and he can’t do anything to prevent it. Before he knows it, his eyes grow hot and his vision starts to blur. He doesn’t let his tears fall though. He quickly covers it with a grateful smile. “Thank you,” he says and she smiles back, squeezing Mark’s hand in a friendly way before she lets go.

“You’re welcome,” she cheerfully says. “By the way, Happy Christmas Eve.”

Mark smiles while his heart is breaking. If he closes his eyes right now, will the earth swallow him whole?

“So, Mark Lee,” she begins, leaning her back to the fence. “Is there anything else you want to remind me of? Did I forget to pay for the book or something?”

There’s a lot of things he wants to remind her about. The warmth of his hand, the sound of his voice when he confessed to her, the taste of their first kiss, everything. But every little joyful memory he has of her will only inflict pain on her behalf so he holds himself back. Mark laughs, shaking his head. “No, you’re okay,” he says, staring at her with a gentle smile constantly displayed on his lips. 

After a while, she playfully raises an eyebrow in question. “What? Why are you staring at me?”

Mark doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, but at that moment, he reaches out his hand and pushes her bangs out of her eyes, just like how he used to do back then. She freezes on her feet, her eyes growing wide, her breathing stalls.

“I’m—” Mark splutters. “I’m sorry, I just—” He panics, his hand going over his chest, feeling his heart thumping fast and it begins to hurt—more than anything he can ever bear. “I’m so sorry.” And he turns around, carrying his bicycle with him before he pedals away through the night. His heart is screaming with more pain for the distance he puts between them.

She stands there on the ground with parted lips. Her eyes are fixed on Mark’s back as he drives away and then suddenly, a tear slips out from the corner of her eye.

“Oh…” She falls to her knees, hugging herself with her arms as she cries and cries and cries harder over something she doesn’t even know what. She just feels so hurt, as if something is tearing every bit of her heart apart. She covers her mouth as she sobs louder. Breathing becomes hard, just as hard as she tries to explain why is she feeling like this. Why does she feel like someone is leaving her? Someone very important, just like a piece of her soul. What is happening?

“Honey!” Her mother comes out with shock written on her face and cradles her into her arms. “Darling, what happened?”

But she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what to say. She just feels like dying. She just feels like she can’t breathe.

It’s as if a promise had just been broken and there’s nothing left of it to reminisce.

Mark stops and jumps off his bike the second he makes a turn a few meters away from her house. His hand is curling against the front of his shirt while the other one is holding him up from not lying flatly on the ground. He’s on his knees and he coughs to the cold night, gasping as if he was on the edge of losing his life. Her name is on the tip of his tongue and everything feels like knives, piercing through his skin.

He was so close. For a moment there, Mark saw her looking at him like she remembered him. She’s not supposed to remember him.

It hurts and Mark can’t fight his tears back anymore. He cries.

***

16

Donghyuck is staring at the latest episode of his favorite drama on channel 16 with drowsy, half-lidded eyes as he places his head on top of his girlfriend’s lap. They were in Donghyuck’s dorm room, specifically on his single-sized bed and she’s there, stroking his hair softly because Yukhei is out playing basketball with the new Chinese student and that means they can have quality time together.

Dating Donghyuck has been easy and she is enjoying every second of it. Donghyuck, that peculiar human being, likes to impersonate people as his daily jokes and it has become quite of a habit. From his usual Michael Jackson impersonation to something way more extreme such as creating new personas for himself. 

It started a week ago when Donghyuck picked her up to campus wearing ripped, washed-out jeans, black boots, and a wifebeater underneath his black leather jacket. The weirdest thing was, he had a cigarette sticking on the side of his mouth but it wasn’t lit—Donghyuck never smoked anything in his entire life.

“’ Sup,” he said, lowering his voice to make it sound deeper after he spat to the ground in a manly way (based on his own opinion, of course).

“What on earth is happening to you?” She asked, staring at him bewilderedly from head-to-toe.

Donghyuck pretended to blow some smokes from his cigarette. “The hell are you talkin’ ‘bout, girl? I’m a gangster. This is what gangsters do. Now hop on my bike, you little shit.”

She just stared flatly at him. “I’m not gonna go anywhere with you talking to me like that.”

“But I’m a gangsta! Gangsters swear, sucker.” 

“And you think swearing is attractive?”

Donghyuck snickered, breaking out of his character. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. I’m just trying on something new,” he explained, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles once. “You look very pretty today. Now, will you please go with me? We’re going to be late.”

“And you look ridiculous.”

“I know,” he chuckled and then he began to get into character again. “But I’m serious. Get on my fucking bike, bitch.”

She sighed but rode away with him anyway.

On the next day, he dressed up in a pair of baggy pants, a shirt with the words “Nerds for life” written upon it, eyeglasses that were too big for his little face, and sneakers that were way too white and way too clean.

“Good afternoon, my fellow specimen!” He saluted, holding a Star Wars graphic novel in his hands as he sat beside his girlfriend on the bleachers. He was supposed to get ready for another soccer game that was going to start in another half an hour, but here he was, dressing like a dork and bugging her like always.

“Let me guess,” she sighed, rubbing her temple. “You’re a nerd.”

“A nerd, I am not,” he said, imitating Yoda from the Star Wars franchise. “But a beauty, yes you are.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous, I am not.”

“Will you stop it already?”

“Stop, I can not.”

“Shut up!” She was beginning to laugh when Donghyuck kept talking like that as he tried to kiss her. “No! Don’t kiss me! You’re gross!”

“I am Donghyuck Skywalker and you are my mate, Princess Leia!” He announced, suddenly standing on one of the seats and opened his arms widely above his head. “We shall roam the entire universe! Just us two, you and me, with your beauty shining brighter than the stars!” Then he jumped back down, placed his hands on his hips, and smirked as he spoke, “Now open up your hangar ‘cause my starfighter needs refueling—”

“HYUCK, OH MY GOD, JUST SHUT UP!”

That happened almost every day for at least an hour-long, but him dressing up like an idiot was enough to attract the entire campus and to make his girlfriend dying from either laughing too hard or drowning in secondhand embarrassment—the latter tends to happen more often. From being Hyuckcutio—the desperate lover from the medieval age (he wore a cape and had a rose between his teeth), Donghyucko Mucho—the Spanish guy who fell hard for his Rosalinda (he had a fake mustache on his face), to Donghyuck Dawson—the American dude whose heart still sailed for his Rose DeWitt Bukater even when the ship fucking sank. 

She found him to be amusing and it was really entertaining watching him work hard to impress her. But if she had to choose, the moment she loved the most would be when Donghyuck dressed up in a plain white tee, washed-out jeans, and a smile that was bright enough to make other people look at him in a daze. His brown hair wasn’t styled in any way, and it looked so fluffy with bangs falling over his eyes. 

He sat on the bleachers next to her and playfully bumped his shoulder against hers. “Hey, baby.”

His girlfriend smiled back, cheeks glowing in pink. “Who are you trying to be now?”

Donghyuck shrugs. “Myself.”

“Hmm…” She hummed before she kissed his cheek. “I think…” I like this one the most. “You look ridiculous.”

Donghyuck laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he ruffled her hair. “I know.”

“Something weird happened to me yesterday,” she confesses, playing idly with Donghyuck’s dark strands as she hangs around on his bed. Donghyuck’s head on her lap is a comforting weight she tends to miss when she’s alone in her room. “There’s this guy who came to my house late in the evening and he looked familiar but I can’t place who he was in my mind.”

Donghyuck turns around and looks up at her. “Maybe he’s an old friend?”

“Maybe,” she sighs. “He kept on staring at me and when I asked him why, he kind of brushed my hair and I just cried.”

Donghyuck raises his right eyebrow. “You cried?”

She nods, looking worried and dispirited so Donghyuck lifts his head off her lap and pats her head. “Hey, hey, hey,” he says, giving her a playful smile. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“I don’t know what happened, it’s just—” She exhales heavily, lacing Donghyuck’s fingers with hers. “I suddenly felt so sad and there’s this pain aching in my chest. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Hey,” Donghyuck kisses her knuckles to soothe her down. “You’re okay. Nothing’s wrong with you. That guy was probably some sort of a voodoo believer or something and he tried to hypnotize you. I’m just glad you’re not hurt.”

She smiles, giving her boyfriend a flick on the nose. “Stupid. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Sure, it does!” Donghyuck swiftly pulls her by the leg and she falls to the bed with a giggle on her lips. Donghyuck climbs up her body, kissing her cheek before he grins at her.

“What?” she asks, her eyes have that teasing twinkle in them. “You look like you’re about to kiss me.”

“No, I don’t.” Donghyuck snorts. “What, just because I’m lying on top of my girlfriend with my face being this close, you think I want to kiss you? Such confidence you have.”

She retaliates with a playful shove against his shoulders and Donghyuck laughs before he pins both of her hands to the bed. He leans close and kisses her lips, gentle like usual but also has that fiery spark behind it. 

She tenderly smiles and lets him kiss her one more time before he sighs and trails his fingertips along the side of her face. “What now?” she asks, grinning teasingly.

Donghyuck’s playful smirk has vanished away from his face. “You know I love you, right?” he asks, his face serious as he traces her bottom lip with his thumb. This is actually the first time she hears him say those three words and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t surprised. 

She parts her lips to speak. “Why are you suddenly—”

“I just thought you should know,” Donghyuck says, his eyes are deep with sincerity and adoration. “I’ve actually been in love with you for a while. I guess I’ve even loved you from back when we were kids.” He chuckles quietly to himself when he sees her frowning. “You don’t remember anything, do you?” He twirls a strand of her hair around his finger. “Back then when I hit you with my ball and you just stared at me with that cute look on your face? You don’t remember that?”

“So that spring wasn’t the first time you hit my head with a ball?” she gives him a look and Donghyuck laughs before he kisses the corner of her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I guess I have the knack in running to damsels in distress and hitting them on the head with my ball.”

“Yeah, with you being the cause of their distress.”

Donghyuck pinches her cheek until she bursts out laughing. He rolls to his back and brings her forward to lie on top of him. She balances herself by putting her hands on his chest and Donghyuck tucks her hair behind her ear. “Do you love me?” he asks, quietly and she can see the insecurities in his eyes. “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t but—”

“I do,” she hastily answers before he starts rambling nonsense. “Donghyuck you’re my Soulmate. Of course, I love you.” She bends her head down to kiss him deeply, tugging his lower lip with her teeth. “I do. I love you.”

Donghyuck groans lowly before he flips her back to her previous position, him hovering above her. He parts her lips with his and begins tasting every corner of her mouth, making her moan delicately against his warm lips. She cards her fingers through his hair before she rests her hand on his nape, touching the scar that has the exact same shape as hers.

A mark that indicates they’re both connected as Soulmates.

***

17

The clock indicates that it’s 05:17 p.m when his mother hugs him close to her chest. “You’ll be alright, Mark,” she whispers in his ear, her voice breaking. “I will just be right here and we’ll meet again in a few hours, okay?”

Mark Lee smiles brokenly to his family as he leans back on his wheelchair. His father pats him on his shoulder, “I’ll see you later, Son.” 

His older brother gives him a familiar punch to his shoulder, teasing him although his concerned eyes betray him. “You’ll be okay, buddy. Think about it, we can play soccer again after this and I don’t have to hold back for your weak ass.” And Mark only chuckles softly before the doctor drags him away to the surgery room.

“Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad,” Mark says, waving his hand and he can hear his own voice ready to shatter into pieces in the next seconds. “Bye, Hyung.”

And he dedicates his final farewell with a thought of her name.

“Everything will be fine, Mark,” the doctor says, eyes sparked with reassurance though his words mean nothing to Mark’s ears. The patient lies on his bed, taking a deep breath before the nurse injects a needle into his skin. “We’ll get you a new heart so you can ride your bike all day long again like you used to, okay?”

“Okay, Doc,” Mark simply responds, mirroring his smile that soon drops to the ground the second the older man glances away.

“Can you count to ten for me?”

The boy nods, beginning to count as the liquid runs through his veins, making him feel numb and sleepy.

“One.”

He remembers that one morning when he first realized he was in love. It was when she appeared in front of his room, breathless with a frantic look on her eyes, and screamed at him for not telling her that he was having a fever. She skipped school that day, no matter how many times her mother tried to drag her back there, saying that she wanted to stay at home and take care of her best friend.

“Two.”

Mark remembers the second month after they started dating. Of melted ice cream cones and chocolates they shared after school was over. And those secret kisses they stole from each other when their parents weren’t looking. Mark remembers how she used to compare him with summer, and when Mark pouted because he thought she was talking about how his pale skin easily got burned under the sunlight, she only laughed, kissed his cheek, and said, “You’ll always be my summer, Mark.”

“Three.”

He remembers how they used to speak those three words every night and every morning of every day. He remembers how they used to be so shy and he also remembers the day those three words became a promise. A promise, in Mark’s case, that lasts forever. But one that she’d forget in the near future.

“Four.”

Mark had only sung to her with his nervous fingers playing his acoustic guitar four times, but the adoration and the love she had in her eyes lasted for four years.

“Five…”

“There are five reasons why you should fall in love and stay in love with me, Mark Lee,” she once said with a smug smile on her face. “First, I’m a natural beauty.” Mark yawned and she threw her pillow at him. “Second, I’m a loving and caring person.” Mark rolled his eyes and he got a glare in return. “Third, I’m smart—like hella smart.” Mark began to bury his face in his pillow and she flicked him on the ear. “Fourth, I’m sexy.” Mark stared at her with boredom in his eyes as he clapped his hands nonchalantly. “What, it’s true! You said so once, don’t you dare lie to me! And last but not least, I’m your best friend and I’ve understood you as well as I know the back of my hand.” Mark secretly smiled at that.

“Well,” he said, “you know how many reasons are there for you to love me?”

Her eyes twinkled in a teasing manner. “How many?”

“Just one,” Mark said, lacing his fingers with hers.

“And that is?” she asked, looking up to him through her long, beautiful eyelashes.

“It’s because I love you,” Mark said. “Unconditionally and everlastingly. That should be enough reason for you, right?”

And he muffled her happy giggle with a kiss to her lips.

Mark’s eyes start to grow heavy. “S… Six…”

He remembers the way she blushed when he swatted her bangs away from her eyes. Remembers the way she warmed his hands, puffing her cheeks when he was risking his health for her sake. He remembers the way she gasped against his mouth, her spine pressed against the fence, her fingers fisting at the fabric of his sweater. 

“Se…ven…”

“What are you doing, Mark?”

“I’m writing a song.”

“What’s it called?”

“Seven days.”

“Why?”

Mark went flustered and he nearly fainted when she stole his notepad and kept herself moving, dodging his every attempt in retrieving it, before she read on the lyrics he wrote.

“Surprisingly, a week feels really short. Any time spent with you, to end it, it’s a pity. I’m still curious about everything about you. I fall for you more as I get to know you.” 

She sent him a look and Mark immediately babbled, “It’s not specifically about you, it’s about people in general—“ But she muffled the rest of his excuse with her lips, hands tugging around his collar, pressing him closer than ever.

“Eight…”

They just turned eighteen but Mark had her lying underneath him, fingers trembling and lips bruised from his feverish kisses. “I want to be with you. I want to make you feel good. Let me be yours.”

“Am I making you happy?”

“MARK, WATCH OUT!”

A tear slips away from his eye as he begins to close his lids. And the boy never gets to finish counting because his dreams stop there. And now, nightmares welcome him with open arms, just as darkness begins to envelop him once again.

Like an old friend.

***

18

“Don’t you think Yukhei will get mad?” she asks, giggling as she buries her face in her boyfriend’s chest, still peppering small kisses now and then. The clock’s ticking, showing the number 18.18 on the screen of her cellphone. They’re still mostly naked underneath the sheets—with her dressed only in her lingerie and Donghyuck only wearing his boxer—not caring that his roommate, Wong Yukhei, can come back there any second.

“What, because we just had sex on his bed and cuddled afterward?” Donghyuck says, and he chuckles when she punches his shoulder. “Hey, I did say I love you but easy on the hands there, Mike Tyson.”

She beams at him and giggles again when Donghyuck begins to hover above her and trails butterfly kisses from her neck to her collarbones. “Shouldn’t we shower? I feel so dirty,” she says, chuckling when Donghyuck licks a long stripe on the sensitive skin.

“Well, I’m about to do something dirtier to you so why bother?” He slides his hand down her stomach, making her fidget a little with his silky smooth touch, and hover his fingers above the line of her lingerie. Noticing how she nibbles on her lip, anticipating something to occur, Donghyuck smirks. “If I ask you to beg, would you do it?”

Her cheeks turn scarlet but she quickly retorts with, “No way in hell.”

He pouts, jutting out his lower lip. “I could make you feel really good, though.”

She can’t stand being the opposite of him when he’s being sinfully seductive like this. “I’m leaving,” she announces, attempts to wiggle herself free from his hold but he catches her with a snicker tumbling off his lips. Settling her down on his lap, he lays a hand on her spine while his other one sneaks around her waist, bringing her close until his lips graze the supple skin between her breasts.

“You’re leaving?” Donghyuck murmurs, landing another trail of kisses between the valley of her breasts, tongue darting out to taste her skin. “But I still need to worship my Goddess.”

She wants to send him a snarky remark but she’s too deep in pleasure to care at the moment. She sighs and runs her fingers through his hair. Donghyuck flips her around, laying her back to the bed, and spreads her legs apart so he can fit between them. She becomes nervous from the intensity of his gaze as if he’s being consumed by desire and he wants to drag her with him.

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” he says, bending down until she can feel his breath fanning the inside part of her thigh. “I’ve been wanting you for so long, you don’t even know.” His eyes never leave hers as he sucks bruises on the sensitive skin of her thigh. “And now that I have you where I want you, I still couldn’t get enough. What should I do?”

She swallows hard, instantly closing her eyes when he pushes her lingerie to the side, fingers dipping inside her warmth. His eyes glimmer with lust, wetting his lower lip once as he’s captivated with her sultry expression. “Fuck, you’re so sexy like this.”

Her fingers are twisting against the sheet when she hears his praise followed quickly by the heat of his tongue rubbing against her clit. She’s drowning, intoxicated by his every move, her orgasm nearing close.

But then Donghyuck suddenly stops and breaks away. His eyes are stern and wide, filled with horror.

She frowns as she follows his gaze, landing her eyes on the middle of her bare chest. There’s a long cut, fresh and red, that starts to appear inch by inch on her skin. It begins from a few centimeters below her collarbones to the skin between her breasts, until it stops just a few inches away from her navel.

“W-what is this?” She sits up straight, touching the cut with trembling fingers. She doesn’t feel any pain, which means—

She takes a look at Donghyuck’s chest—at the man who claims that he’s her Soulmate—and finds nothing. There’s no scar on his chest. The mark comes from someone else.

Donghyuck’s not her Soulmate.

Donghyuck’s gawks at the sight before he stares back at her without blinking. When realization appears vividly on her face, he gulps and stutters, “I-I can explain…”

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” She screams, her eyes filled with hurt and betrayal. And when Donghyuck just gazes at her in shock, she pushes him away by his shoulders with so much force, he almost topples off the bed. “GET OUT!”

“W-wait—” Donghyuck tries to explain, standing on his feet with his eyes filled with fear of being thrown away. He looks like death is approaching him. “Noona, please, listen to me—”

“No!” She throws everything she can reach by her hands—his pillow, the sheets, his clothes—while her eyes begin to grow hot and the pain of being betrayed and blatantly lied growing more vividly behind her chest. “How dare you do this to me, you—”

“Noona!” Donghyuck holds her wrists and tries to keep up with her struggle. “Please, calm down and listen—”

“I HATE YOU!” She bites back, crying with her teeth gritting behind her lips when Donghyuck has her pinned back down to the bed. “I hate you…” her voice reduces into a softer tone but somehow it adds more fresh wounds to Donghyuck’s feelings. He knows she doesn’t hate him just like how he will never be able to hate her, no matter what she does. Soulmates or not, she truly does love him. But this... This new scar on her chest... This still changes everything.  

Donghyuck’s eyes turn sorrowful—there’s no more light in them. No joy, no mischievous gleam, nothing but a disappointment he has brought upon himself. “Noona…”

“I believed you,” she sobs, staring at him with broken eyes and quivering lips. “I believed you, Haechannie—how could you do this to me?”

Donghyuck loses his grip, feeling all of his strength leaving his body. “I’m…” He swallows and reaches out a hand when she throws her wrist above her eyes. “Noona, there’s a reason why I’m doing this—”

“Your scar!” She suddenly yells, eyes filled with nothing but rage. “That scar on the back of your neck—is that fake?”

“Noona—”

“Answer me!”

Donghyuck freezes, his throat feels dry when he speaks. “Yes,” He finally admits and he can almost hear her heart shattering apart. “Yes, it’s fake.”

She lets out a breath, one hand going to the side of her head. “I can’t believe it…” Her breathing goes a bit ragged. “I can’t believe you’ve been lying to me—”

“Yes, but—”

“After all this time,” she says, staring at him with new tears in her eyes. “After all this time, Haechannie… You’ve been lying to me.”

Donghyuck endures the pain that comes every time she says those words. “Noona, please, you need to listen to me.” And when he tries to take her wrist again, she pulls back immediately.

“Can you please leave?” she asks between her quiet sobs but her tone is definite. “I’m… I’ll be away before you come back so just—” 

“Noona, can we at least talk—”

“Hyuck, please,” she cries, fisting the sheets underneath her. “Just leave me alone.”

And Donghyuck does as she says because he feels that if he stays just a second longer, she’ll break apart even more and he never wants to see her like that. He’s supposed to bring smiles to her face—to make her laugh just like the old days, but look what he has done now? 

Goddammit, Hyuck.

He hurriedly puts his pants on and he’s already standing at the door before he can even place his shirt back on. “Noona…” He whispers, taking a last look at the girl who’s now hugging her knees to her chest and crying miserably to her hands. “I’m so sorry.”

But she doesn’t hear him. She doesn’t want to hear him.

Just let me be alone.

Donghyuck brings his gaze down to the floor. “I’ll give you some time to get ready. I’ll make sure you’ve left before I come back,” he says, closing the door behind him. “Goodbye, Noona.”

This situation seems familiar but it feels way, way much worse.

 ***

19

Mark Lee 

18: 01: 19 

“Doctor, how is he?” Mark’s mother quickly asks the man when he steps into the waiting room. Her husband stands behind her with a stiff hand on her shoulder, praying for his child’s health. Mark’s older brother bites his lower lip, waiting anxiously for the moment he can breathe in relief because he knows his little brother will be fine.

But that turns out to be wrong when the doctor shakes his head and says, “I’m sorry.”

The surgery has failed. Mark’s body rejects his new heart and he can no longer be saved.

Life ends but their sorrow stays.

***

20

After passing twenty minutes of trying to calm herself down, burying herself under the sheets during those dreading minutes, she finally gets up from the bed. Her hands are still shaky when she collects her clothing and dresses properly. She stares at herself in the mirror, taking a glimpse of the new long scar in the middle of her chest before she buttons her shirt up. Something must have happened to her other half—she needs to find out what it is. She needs to know who it is.

She closes her eyes. Everything hurts and she doesn’t know why but that man’s face—the guy who stood by her gate last night—keeps appearing on her mind. But every time she remembers him, another wound breaks inside her chest, and tears begin to roll down once more.

Exhaling a deep breath, she searches for her phone. She quickly scrolls through her contact list and dials the numbers she’s been searching.

Pick up, pick up, PICK UP!

A woman’s voice comes through the line. “Hello, Yongsan Municipal Library, how may I help—”

“Yes, hi,” she hastily greets, voice still filled with quivers but with more strength behind it when she introduced herself. “I’m looking for this guy named Mark Lee—he w-works at your place a-and—” her voice breaks at the end, trembling with tears that’s about to flood her eyes. “Can… Can you please, let me speak to him?”

There’s a silence on the other side of the phone and she wonders whether that lady doesn’t understand the words she just said or for some entirely different reason. 

Please let him be okay.

“You’re looking for Mark Lee?” she asks and she nods until she realizes she can’t see her. “Y-yes,” she croaks out.

“Well, he hasn’t come here since two days ago,” the lady explains while her heart sinks below her stomach. “He said he was about to go through surgery—”

“Surgery?”

“Yes, for his heart,” she answers and her hand unconsciously goes to her chest. It’s starting to make sense now. “I heard he got into the operation room a few hours ago. I’m still waiting for the news, actually. It’s—oh wait, I got a mail. Maybe this is it.” There’s a rustling sound going on in the background and she waits with her heart thumping loudly. A few seconds later, she hears a soft gasp, “Oh my goodness.”

“Ma’am?” she starts. “Ma’am, what’s wrong? Is he alright?”

Say yes. Please say yes.

Another silence before the lady comes to answer her with a voice so quiet she almost mistakes it as a whisper. “Mark Lee has passed away, just a few minutes ago. He was—”

She drops her phone to the floor in panic and quickly unbuttons her shirt again. She runs to the mirror, focusing her gaze at her reflection and she finds nothing.

The scar on her chest has vanished, not even leaving a trace of it behind. Just like the memories she had with him.

Donghyuck doesn’t really leave the room even when she has screamed at him to do so. He’s closed the door behind him but he doesn’t walk away. Instead, he slides down to the floor, pressing his back against the wooden surface, and waits. The hallway is empty and Donghyuck shivers from the cold.

God, you’re so fucking stupid, he thinks to himself. You shouldn’t have agreed with Chenle. You should’ve known this wouldn’t have worked.

Donghyuck traces the scar on his nape—the fake scar that he made to make her believe. To make her think that he was her Soulmate.

He feels like he’s about to vomit. He’s so sick of himself. Disgusting, he thinks, you’re a piece of crap, Lee Donghyuck. He closes his eyes, biting on his lower lip as his mind flashes back to his conversation with his younger friend, Zhong Chenle.

“Hyung, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“You said you wanted to get close to her, right?” Chenle had once said to him. “She has a scar on the back of her neck. That’s the clue.”

Yukhei reached out to see what was hidden behind Donghyuck’s collar. “Shit, dude,” he said, hissing, “You don’t have it. The scar—you’re not her Soulmate.”

Donghyuck’s heart flopped and it took a moment for him to recover. “W-well…” He barked a laugh, masking his disappointment though he wasn’t fooling anyone. “Well then, there goes my chance.”

“No, you still have a chance,” Chenle corrected. “I know who her Soulmate is. And he’s dying.”

“W-what?”

“Mark Lee,” Chenle said with sorrowful eyes and a broken heart. Donghyuck knew perfectly who he was—that guy, the owner of prominent cheekbones, thin lips, and pale skin who constantly refused his offer to play soccer together. “Mark Lee is her Soulmate, Hyung. But he’s... He’s dying. His heart is weak and that’s why he doesn’t want to get close to her. He knows he’s not gonna last long.”

“B-but—” Donghyuck splutters, frowning. “Does she know about this?”

“No,” Chenle shook his head once. “They used to date and she didn’t even know it back then. They didn’t know it back then. Then they got into an accident and she lost her memories. Mark thinks it’s a chance for him to stay away from her.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Donghyuck shouted angrily. “He’s her Soulmate! She deserves to know! They deserve to be together even just for a while—”

“He doesn’t want to. He’s given up, Hyung. He wants me to tell you that.” And his next words were the last thing Chenle said before he left with an apologetic look on his face. “I know you want to push Mark to be with her but I think you should stop. He thinks it’s better this way.”

Donghyuck hissed under his breath, pushing his hair back in frustration. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Yukhei gaped before his friend confronted him and asked, “Yukhei, what happened when your Soulmate dies before you know them?”

The tall boy realized where Donghyuck was going with this. He remembered how Donghyuck hadn’t gotten any scars on his body yet.

“You’ll find yourself another Soulmate.”

With that in mind, Donghyuck ran through the corridors, stepping into the faculty he knew Mark Lee was in. The paler boy was in the middle of his literature class and Donghyuck just went in, blurting out, “Sorry Prof, it’s an emergency!” to the lecturer before he yanked Mark out of his seat. The older one was quiet, following him without asking questions until Donghyuck shoved him against a wall in an empty hallway.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Donghyuck asked through gritted teeth. His hands were grasping tightly against the fabric of Mark’s collar.

Mark stared at him back with cold, almost challenging eyes. “I should be the one who asked you that. You’re the one who suddenly dragged me over here.”

“She’s your Soulmate!” Donghyuck nearly screamed at him. “Do you know how rare it is to find your Soulmate at such a young age?”

Mark only kept his face straight when he replied, “So you’ve heard.” 

“Yes, I’ve heard, you asshole,” Donghyuck spat back. “And from your friend too because apparently, you’re too busy being such a fucking coward to tell me yourself!”

Mark’s eyes darkened at his degrading words but he didn’t say anything.

Donghyuck exhaled in exasperation. “Look, Mark. do you know how much she wants to find her Soulmate? How much she wants to be with you? You’ve known all along and I know you guys had a history together so why the hell aren’t you two together now?”

Mark’s jaw clenched before he broke their eye contact. “It’s better this way.”

“Why, because you’re dying?”

Mark’s eyes grew hard before he closed them. “Among many reasons.”

Donghyuck was on the verge of punching him so hard across his jaw but when he saw the wounded look that flitted through Mark’s eyes for just a few seconds, he restrained himself. Instead, he just asked,” How could you be so selfish?”

Mark immediately turned to look at the other man with a hard glare, his heart beating fast from his rage. “Selfish?” Mark asked, his tone sounded almost as sharp as a knife. “I’m selfish? Donghyuck-ah, I’m letting the person I care about the most in the world fall into another man’s arm because I don’t want to hurt her! If I die, she’ll—”

“She’ll what? She’ll be sad? Devastated? Well, hey, news flash, Mark. Everybody dies!” Donghyuck exclaimed. “You say you’re dying but you can never know when you’re actually going to die. My condition is as good as a person can be but who can guarantee I’m gonna live long? What if I get into an accident? What if I suddenly get sick and die the next day? You can never know so don’t use that as an excuse, you coward!”

Donghyuck had a point; Mark knew that. But it wasn’t easy.

Mark just shook his head. “I can’t do this.”

“Of course.” Donghyuck scoffed. “And that’s why I said you’re being selfish.”

“You want to talk about being selfish?!” Mark was losing his patience. “Try to look at yourself! You’re here, pretending like you care and want us to be together when it’s obvious that you’re happy with all of this because you get to have her for yourself—”

Donghyuck punched the boy with his right fist. He couldn’t help it. He snapped.

The punch wasn’t hard enough to knock the teeth out of his mouth but it was hard enough to make Mark feel lightheaded and fall to the floor. He hissed, rubbing the pain off his jaw, and leaned his back against the wall. 

“Fine,” Donghyuck said, staring at the boy who looked up at him with a new bruise forming along his right jaw. Donghyuck could see how much Mark wanted to be with her and how much he tried to convince himself to do so. But he could tell how Mark was afraid. That boy almost lost everything once—he knew how awful it was to be left alone. He didn’t want that to happen to her and though Donghyuck understood that, he just couldn’t accept it yet. “If you want to give up on her,” he said, “Then go. Do it. I’m not you so I don’t know how you feel but I can see that deep down inside, you still don’t want to let her go. But the thing is, Mark, I’m gonna fight for her. I’m gonna make her happy. Soulmates or not, I’m gonna try to make her feel loved because I am—I’m in love with her. But I am not happy taking her away from her Soulmate—from you. That’s your fault. You had two options and you chose to leave. That’s your own decision, so don’t try to make yourself feel better by telling me how I feel. You don’t know me.”

Mark brought his head down, nibbling on his lip. His eyes felt hot and he felt downright awful about himself. He didn’t mean to insult Donghyuck—he was just angry for a second there. His emotions had gone over control.

“Then go make her happy,” Mark said, picking himself up from the floor and walked away. Donghyuck stared at his back and nodded with a sincere promise even when the boy could no longer see him.

“Stupid,” Donghyuck murmurs to himself as his flashback ends. “Mark’s right. You’re selfish. You’re such an idiot.” He punches the ground beneath him a few times out of frustration before he slides his fingers through his hair and pulls on the roots. He doesn’t notice how he just cut himself along his knuckles, his skin breaking and bleeding slowly through a thin layer. “You can’t even be sure you’re her next Soulmate, Hyuck. You’re just an idiot. An idiot and an asshole and you just lost her for the second time in your pathetic little life.” He closed his eyes and leaned back to the door. 

Noona, please forgive me.

She slides down to the floor and hugs her knees to her chest. Pressing her temple to her knees, she sobs until her entire shoulders begin to shake.

Mark Lee was her Soulmate. And he knew—that’s why he came to her house that night. Why didn’t he just tell the truth? And why did he look so familiar? So familiar and yet she doesn’t remember anything. Why can’t she remember him?

God, I beg you, please. Let me remember him, she prays under her muffled sobs, if he ever meant something to me, please, let me remember him. I don’t care if it’ll hurt me, I don’t care. I just want to remember him. That’s all I ask.

Mark…

But as Mark dies, the permanent scar he gets on his chest before his final moment dies with him as well. The memory of him never suffices and Mark is just a shadow, following her everywhere but one that she cannot see.

She braces herself to glance one more time at the scar on her chest but there’s none. The cut has disappeared. She’s just as good as new.

Except for the faint cut that recently appears on her knuckles.

***

[theyanderespecialist]

Body For Rent? (One Shot) Don X Mark OC (Your Boyfriend) (Yandere)

[Hello My Sexy Readers and welcome back to another one shot this another Your boyfriend one, with Mark as a sissy paying for rent with Romance? Who knows how this will end anyways I hope you all enjoy!]

(Mark's POV)

Don is over and I was on the phone with Lucy begging her to come back with her part of the rent. She said she would when she got to it. I knew that means never. Oh I wanted to smash my phone! But that would cost me more money so instead I look at Don. He was fixing a light bulb and how could I tell him not only could Lucy not pay her half but neither could I? My grandma had to have surgery and helping pay for the after car I had no extra money not to mention the dinner won't give me any extra hours and I already have to jobs. God what do I do?!?

But it's probably best to just tell him. So I take a deep breath as I walk over.

"U-Uh..Don..?"

"Yeah kid?"

"....uh I..I need to talk to you it's important.."

"I'm all ears." He said as he was still fixing the bulb.

"Well...Lucy hasn't paid her half of the rent for like six months, and I'm running out of money..I'm short about 100 dollars..I'm wondering, should I give you some of my jewelry or furniture so that it's not a total loss or do I move out? I can be packed next week.."

He looked down at me and stepped off the ladder. "Mark I cannot take anything from you. I care to much to do that but I can't throw you out either. You said I am a dilf right? Well do you really want to fuck me? Like giving a chance would you?" He asks

I blinked. I don't understand why he was asking that..he said he wouldn't bring up that embarrassing moment again..

"U-Uh..I don't know why you're asking..." I said softly as I looked down. "B-But..I-I mean yeah I-I would..you're a sweet guy.."

He falter a bit. Then took a deep breath. "It is hard getting back in the dating game and a man grows lonely. Would you like to stay at my place tonight?" He asks and I stare. "I will wave your rent for the month."

I stared at him was he asking if I would have sex as rent payment!? Then I thought of my grandmother I could take next weekend off and go see her with the money I have.

"Yes okay." I say and he nodded picking up the latter.

Oh shit what did I get myself into?

-Time Skip-

I sat down as I expected to come in and get fucked..but I was instead treated to a lovely dinner.

"Sorry I uh- I normally only cooked when my kids were hungry and everything, I'm not a house husband." He gave an awkward laugh.

Then after he did dishes we went to the bedroom he helps me into bed then climbs in as well turn off the lights and- spooned me? I looked at him and he almost fell asleep instantly? I grab a pillow and hit him.

"I'm awake!" He says half asleep.

"You fell asleep on me..." I whisper.

"Well that is the point how else are we supposed to sleep together." He says

Then it hit me he did not want sex... but why?

I looked away .was..I not attractive? Was I too feminine? Did he just not want sex?

(Timeskip)

Over the last two weeks I've phased out of wearing my feminine clothes, and wore masculine clothes as Don looked over at.me.

"Okay Mark, whats with the change in style?" He asked as I stood up.."well why won't you have sex with me Don?! You haven't done anything that shows you're even romantically attracted much less sexually attracted to me!" I snapped as I go to the room. I really liked don. These last two weeks confirmed it but it hurt...knowing he wasn't into me like that.

He probably saw me as some stupid kid..

I hear a knock on my door. "I am not having sex with you because your not an object! You are a person a beautiful sexy person! And I want you to want to be with me! Not use your rent as an excuse to be with you! Damnit I am in love with you Mar!" I hear him say through the door

I stopped at that. I was shocked..beyond shocked. I walked over to the door as I opened it.

"....you're not messing with me?" I asked. "No! God damn it kid, you think this is the first time.you been late on rent, if I didn't care I'd et you and that fucking dead beat figure it out on your own on the street--" I cut him off as I jumped at him as he has to catch me as I kiss his face before hesitating and kissing his lips.

He gasped but then smiled and kissed me. He walked me into my room and closes and locks my bedroom door. Then pulls away as we both pant.

"Your mind now~" He says possessively and throws me on the bed stripping his belt and tying my hands to the bed. Ass in air and him ripping down my jeans.

)Marie Has unleashed the beast XD)

I did not get time to think as he spread my cheeks spits on my anus and starts to eat my ass it. I gasped and moaned and leaned into him taking more of his tongue~ Oh god I never done this before and lord it is gooood~~~

(Don's POV)

(Don has the green light XD)

I looked down at Mark as he was seemingly already in heaven, like this was his first time getting such treatment.

I didn't think Mark had wanted me in that way but now that I know, now that I'm certain- I'm going to have him as mine. He would make a wonderful new wife and stepmom to my boys.

I shove my tongue on the way in and start tongue fucking his cute boy pussy I think the kids would call it

(hah the boy pussy I mean he isn't wrong)

(XD)

I could see him grabbing and releasing the pillow as his cock twitched, I already knew these sheets would have to be cleaned, but knowing we were the ones to mess them up so much~

I think his ass is ready and I look at him, "Front or back?" I ask.

"huh?" He asks.

"Do you want to be on your front or back?" I ask. "I want our first time special."

"I don't..."

"Just which is your favorite?"

"I-- uh that's the thing Mr.Williams uh...I've never had sex..you took my first kiss.."

I smile and kiss him flipping him onto his back and line up and kiss his chest.

"I love you.." I muttered as I remove that stupid shirt.

"I loved the way you dressed..because you liked it."

(Thank you, it's more so he loves seeing mark comfortable. I'm normally uncomfortable in men clothing unless I'm feeling more masculine, so that's why mark is like that. It's not a trans fetish, I could care less about your gender. I just have issues with my body. And those are my issues and so they are on mark as well.)

(Yes cause my co author is gender fluid and mark is her if she was a man and cross dresses for comfort not to sexalize the transgenders or anything like that)

"Really?" He asks.

"Yes you always seemed more happy and comfortable in female clothes, what ever makes you happy makes me happy"

(like I fuck in crossdressing cause I'm comfortable.)

He looked at me as he then gave a smiled.

"Aw isn't that sweet. Mr.Williams loves me." He said as I look at him. Was he mocking.me?

(Yeah! Power to my co author!)

She smiles and plays with my hand. "Have I been a bad tennat Mr. Williams? If I have you better fuck the bad out of me~"

I blush she is role playing.

And like I said before. I wasn't interested in fucking her to give her a place to stay....

Bit role play, that's a whole different story.

"You've been real bad, but I'll let it slide-Just be a good girl for me~" I purr as she smirked and was about to say something...until I thrust into her as her voice got caught in her throat, turning into more of a desperate whimper.

I smirked and and started to thrust in and out of her feeling her clench on my cock.

"No so tight~" I moan. "You need to relax baby~"

She let out a moan as she was already drooling. "I-I'm trying! I-I'm as relaxed as I can be!~" she cried out as her legs wrapped around my hips.

"Oh your just that tight you naughty thing~" I say with smirked.

She moaned as she thrust back onto my cock.

"I don't hear you complaining~" she moaned out as I could.hear the wet slap of our skin.

I was not I loved him and I could not wait to stretch his pussy out then to let it tighten again~ I love him so much. I pull him back into a kiss, not even caring that they slipped out of my belt and were running his nails across my back. I loved it and could tell she was close as I start to hit her gspot and she cums hard on my cock moaning loudly. I came inside of her as well as I collapse on her as she smiled. "I love you.."

I smile and kiss her deeply. I love her so so much and she is mine.

[songficsbyrissi]

This X-Mas (Spooky X Reader)

“'Cause this Christmas, will be the Greatest time of your life from me I ain't asking for the diamond rings I ain't really got a list of expensive things I just want you to myself while the children sleeps Santa baby, would you make a little time for me?” - Chris Brown feat. Ella Mai

A/N: hey y’all! I know I kinda abandoned you but being in College during a panoramic (Twitter joke) but I finished! I graduated undergrad so it’s lit! Even tho I don’t really care for Christmas or the holidays and I dislike Christmas music, I love this song and since it’s been a while, I might as well give y’all a Christmas gift soooo Merry Christmas! 🎄🎁❤️

************

You were not a fan of the holidays.

It’s not like you never were. You used to be but as you grew up, you grew a disdain for Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years', all that.

The most wonderful time of the year, your ass.

From November 1st up until January 2nd, every year, you were annoyed and couldn’t wait for this time of the year to be over. You didn’t like it and if you had to hear “All I Want from Christmas is You” by Mariah Carey one more fucking time, someone was gonna get kicked where they’re more jolly.

You were relaxing on the couch when you heard a knock on your apartment door. You announced you were coming and opened the door to 3 boys by the names of Cesar, Jamal, and Ruby.

“Hey, boys! What brings-“

“BATHROOM!” Jamal ran past you and straight to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Ruby shook his head and Cesar gave a nervous laugh.

“Would you believe we were just in the neighborhood?”

You pursed your lips. “Nope.”

Ruby sighed out of frustration. “We need help getting Christmas gifts for our.....” He swallowed hard. You closed your eyes.

“You’re still struggling to call Jasmine your girlfriend?”

“SHE’S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” You waved him off and right then, Jamal stepped out the bathroom, relieved.

“Whew, my bladder was full! Where you get that hand soap, Y/N?! Smells lovely!”

You rolled your eyes, irritated. “At Bath and Body Works where y’all should get gifts for your girlfriends.” You narrowed your eyes at Ruby, who shuddered at the G-word. “Now if you excuse me, I was enjoying my alone time.”

Cesar stopped the door from closing. “Wait. Didn’t you say you were leaving today to go spend Christmas with your family?”

Shit. “Uh yeah. Duh. I needed alone time before I left.”

“I don’t see any bags packed.” Ruby indicated, skeptical.

“Or an airline ticket on the desk. Yeah, I noticed!” Jamal added, folding his arms.

You looked at the 3 teenage boys who were waiting for you to confess. You sighed deeply, knowing the jig is up.

“Fine, 3 wise men!” You stated with a tone dripping in sarcasm. “I’m not going home. I never was going home. The reason why is because I don’t care for the holidays. I stopped a long time ago. It’s never been special to me. Also, I don’t have a close-knit family. Actually, we’re dysfunctional as hell. This isn’t the most wonderful time of the year for me. I lied so you guys wouldn’t know the truth, now are you happy?”

Jamal had a dismal expression on his face and pulled you to his chest. “Now I see what the Scrooge looks like as a black woman.”

You pushed him off and Cesar grabbed your wrist before you could hit him.

“Does Spooky know?”

You shook your head. “Nope and it’s gonna stay that way. I mean it, Cesar. Don’t say shit to your brother about this.”

Were you really depending on the little brother of your gang member friend that’s not really a friend but he’s kind of your boo to keep his mouth shut?

“Cesar told me you lied.” That was what Spooky said when you opened the door the next morning which was Christmas. You sucked your teeth loudly, disappointed that your dumbass trusted a 15-year-old who feared his brother.

“I should really kick your brother’s ass.”

He smirked at your comment. “Talk to me, Mami. Why you not fucking with Christmas?”

You left the door, letting him outside and he closed the door behind him. “Because it’s annoying as hell.”

“Nah, that ain’t it.”

You turned to Spooky with your arms folded. “Why do you even care, Oscar? It’s not like your thug ass cares for holidays and shit.”

Spooky remained unfazed by your attitude and you calling him by his government. When you first met him, he would be pissed at that. Even tried scaring you but it didn’t work. Eventually, he got used to it and only allowed you to call him Oscar.

“You’re wrong and I’ll show you. Get dressed.”

You were feeling dangerous. “And what if I don’t?” You responded with a roll of the neck.

Spooky let a dry laugh that scared you yet turned you on at the same time. Damn. You started to bite your lip then pulled it back. He got dangerously close and stared you down.

“Do you really wanna know, Princesa?”

Yes. No. Shit.

You got out of his face and got dressed as you were told. You’ll let him win this round. You got into his car and he drove back to his house where Cesar and his girlfriend Monse were making a mess in the kitchen.

“Hey Y/N!” Monse greeted you. Cesar looked at you nervously.

“Hey Y/N, how’s-“

You held your hand up. “Save it, snitch!”

“He forced it out of me!” The young boy pleaded and you rolled your eyes in response.

“Whatever. What are y’all even doing?” You asked, confused and disgusted by the sight of the kitchen and glancing at Spooky’s face, he was not too pleased either.

“Trying to do a Christmas brunch but somebody doesn’t wanna listen to the instructions.” Monse gestured towards her boyfriend with a roll of her neck, causing Cesar to groan.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the two. “Alright lemme help so I can fix this. You!” You gestured towards Spooky. “You’re helping too!”

“Nahhhh cooking ain’t my thing.”

“Well Christmas ain’t my thing but I’m here. Now throw on an apron, cholo. You’re on bacon duty!”

You couldn’t lie. Making Christmas brunch with the kids was fun as hell. You found yourself smiling and giggling during the cooking and eating. You even caught Spooky staring at you a couple of times. You pecked his lips just because he looked so adorable but if you told him that, he’ll turn into a jackass. When the boys left to get something from God knows where you were left alone with Monse. You didn’t know too much about the girl but figured you could get to know her more.

“So Monse...you’re spending Christmas with your boyfriend.”

“So are you.”

Your eyes narrowed at her response. “1. Spooky is not my boyfriend and 2. I was forced here. Christmas is bullshit.”

“I love Christmas. Even though I don’t remember the last time I actually spent it with my dad.” Monse shrugged bending over and fix her shoelaces. That caught your attention.

“Wait, you’ve had shitty Christmases and you still love Christmas?!”

She shrugged again. “Well yeah. My dad is always away for Christmas and I don’t have my mom so I’ve always dreamt of doing Christmas stuff with the people I love. When I met the boys, not to sound corny but my dreams came true. Another reason why I need to keep the group together.”

You were lost for words. “Wow, I’m sorry, Monse.”

“It’s ok. Hey, I think I hear the boys coming back.”

The boys revealed themselves and Cesar announced that you guys were being invited to have Christmas dinner with Jamal’s family which was great because you didn’t want to cook.

“I’m telling you marmalade is better than jelly. I don’t wanna hear it!” Jamal declared during dinner. A debate broke out between marmalade and jelly which really entertained you. Jamal’s family was funny and so welcoming to you, a stranger. It felt weird to you that they were showing so much love to you, a stranger. Oscar held your hand throughout the whole dinner which did something to your stomach. You don’t wanna say butterflies. Maybe it’s gas.

When the group stopped by Ruby’s house to pick him up for “friendsmas”, his grandma pulled you aside with a serious look on her face.

“Open your heart, mama.”

You gave her a confused look. “What?”

“You closed your heart. Open it. Even if it’s to Papi Chulo over there. “ she gestured towards Oscar who was lighting up a cigarette and looked back at you. “Open it to Christmas. To any holiday. Just....open it.”

You kept that in mind as you went with the others back to the house for the kids to engage in their “friendsmas”.

“I’ve never heard “Friendsmas.” You muttered as Spooky handed you a glass of wine and you watched the kids from the doorway.

Oscar shrugged taking a swig of his Corona. “Well you hate Christmas so I’m not surprised.”

You elbowed him in his side and he began to laugh in response. “I don’t hate Christmas. I just never found joy in the holidays but now I do.” You looked at him and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “Thank you. Thank you for making this Christmas special for me.”

Oscar began to grin and pulled something from behind his back. “It’s not over yet, hyna.”

You gazed at the blue velvet rectangular box and opened it slowly to reveal a silver chain that said “Oscar” You looked up at him, speechless.

“Spooky, I....I.....”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just put on my necklace and be mine.” The gangsta in front of you took a deep breath. “I love you, Y/N.”

Your eyes were as big as saucers. “You....you do?”

“Yes, girl he do! It was so obvious!” Jasmine’s voice broke through the moment and everyone glared at her. Her mouth formed an O. “Oooh sorry! I forgot we were supposed to be acting like we weren’t paying attention. My bad!”

You shook your head and felt a surge of love and confidence. You loved this man. You have for a long time but never admitted it because...your heart was closed. Damn. Ruby’s crazy grandma ain’t so crazy after all.

“I love you too, Oscar.” You pulled him in for a long passionate kiss and the crew clapped in excitement.

“Girl put your back in it! You’re under the mistletoe!” Jasmine yelled again.

Ruby started. “Jasmine-“

“Shut up and kiss me!” She grabbed him by his collar, planting a kiss on his lips.

When you finally pulled away from your kiss with Spooky, you smiled up at him and his expression was matching yours. You spoke up through your grin:

“I’ll be damned. It is the most wonderful time of the year.”

A/N: Cheesy as fuckkkkk I know but Christmas is all about the cheese if we’re gonna be honest. I hope you enjoyed it! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, y’all! ❤️🎄🎁

Tags: @karmawaelualani @chaneajoyyy @ctrlszn @witchything @sabrinafey @penguinpower17889 @robingreysantos @namjoonwatcheshentai @pananegra @bloatedandlonly @blackmissfrizzle @chonisberonica @flamingweasley @cynthetic @momobaby227 @this-glitter-pussay​ @beyondprincess​ @joyrivh​

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Nightlights Part 3 FINAL (Demetri Volturi x child!Reader)

@kpopgirlbtssvt​  --whilst i dont do tag lists i do gotta tag this one I’d recommend Nightlights part 1 & 2 to catch the references throughout this one but there is no necessity!

It wasn't often the whole Volturi gathered together but for your final birthday, they most certainly would. Birthdays weren't usually a thing for the Volturi so it took a little more brain power to think about it. They decided that in the evening they'd have a get together. Demetri had asked if you had any requests and to his surprise, you only had one. A very simple one. A birthday cake. He'd even pressed you about it. Reminding you, you can ask for more- but you never did. You claimed if everyone was there, having a good time then you'd be happy. Demetri could have melted, you were more concerned about everyone else on your birthday rather than yourself. You were beyond pleased when you discovered the wives would be there, your grandmother's. 

Athenodora was more excited than any of them. Caius couldn't help but find it bittersweet. Athenodora would have loved children of her own with Caius but it could never be. Having you in the castle was the closest thing she'd have to a child. You truly were a blessing even in Caius' eyes. He couldn't deny it when he saw his wife with you as you grew up. He just hoped you didn't act as a reminder of what she couldn't have too. 

However Demetri approached the two with an offer that would have flooded Athenodora with tears. He wore a soft smile. He asked if Athenodora would like to bring the cake to you. It was very often that parents did such a thing so both Caius and Athenodora was surprised by the offer. "You gave (Y/N) a lot of your time, Ma'am." Demetri explained. "It's not much to express my gratitude but...it's a start." Slowly Athenodora moved to stand in front of Demetri. Overcome with emotions and tears she'd never shed. To Demetri's surprise she hugged him. Demetri looked to Caius who nodded, with a surprisingly soft expression. Demetri gently hugged her back with one hand, keeping the other behind his back as always. "I'd be honored." She said quietly, barely managing to speak. "That child means the world to me. I cherish every second I've had with them over the years. You don't know how much this means to me, Demetri." Demetri couldn't help but get emotional himself remembering his first child he lost and the feeling he had when you called him your father. Every second with you felt like a gift that had already been ripped away once. "I think I might have a inkling." He responded quietly and Athenodora squeezed him tighter. It seemed that not even Caius was immune to the emotion but he did a very good job at masking it. "Heaven's, all because of a cake." Demetri smiled and Athenodora laughed quietly, pulling away. "It is rather silly, but thank you." She said again. "You're more than welcome, ma'am." 

Once Demetri left, Athenodora turned to Caius with a heartfelt smile. "I wasn't expecting that. What a wonderful surprise." Athenodora moved into her husband's arms who kissed her forehead. "I shouldn't be as surprised." He admitted and Athenodora looked up at him questioningly. Caius' voice was quiet. "Demetri spoke to me privately some time ago, about (Y/N)." Athenodora tilted her head slightly, her silence motioning for him to continue. "He ask if we...if something were to ever happen to him, take over as (Y/N)'s parents." Athenodora would have melted to the floor if it weren't for her husband's strong hold. "What did you say?" She asked quietly and Caius simply looked at her, searching her eyes. "Of course we would." She said quietly. "That child is family, we'd all take care of them no matter what. They're the closest I--" Athenodora swallowed hard, her eyes falling from Caius face. Caius' finger lightly tilted her chin up, making her meet his gaze again. "I know." He said quietly, so only she'd hear. "That's why I agreed. However I also told him I don't doubt that Demetri will be around for a very long time. I think he's just worrying." "Probably, but he can be at ease knowing there isn't one person in this castle who wouldn't look after them." Her expression darkened. "We'd kill anyone who didn't." 

"Are you ready to dance!?" Felix bellowed waltzing with himself. The twins eyes widened in alarm at his outburst and Heidi quickly tried to cover her laugh with her hand. "No!" You cried back in horror. "I dont dance! I flail helplessly like a fish out of water until someone puts me out of my misery!" "Lies!" Felix declared. "I'll have you know you were a wonderful dancer when you were seven!" You groaned into your hands, remembering what he was talking about.  To this day, Felix was reminded of your younger self. He couldn't help but smile at the memories. 

You grinned in a particular way that the Volturi had caught on to be a silent laugh, you didn't always audibly laugh but the smile alone was progress. You had said small words or phrases but you still had the occasion where you'd break out of your silence for some time. "Are you ready?" Felix grinned. You hurriedly turned your back to him, crossing your arms over before taking Felix's. "Good job." He chuckled, bending slightly to your height. "And feet together!" Felix grinned. "Yes, honey, you need to have your feet together!" Heidi smiled warmly. "Do you remember what this is called?" You grinned at Heidi. "What is it called, darling?" Demetri asked with a warm smile. "It's the funny word." Heidi smiled taking a seat beside Demetri. "Dip!" You said loudly. "Yes, well done sweetheart!" Heidi said as the others in the room praised you as they always did for speaking. "One...two...three...dip!" Felix tipped you and giggled. Demetri tilted his head at you with a warm smile. 

"Now it's Heidi's turn " Felix wiggled his eyebrows as you rushed into your father's arms. Heidi sighed with a smile before standing up. "Just to show the children, how it's done." She smirked her eyes meeting with the twins and other members of the guard. You had seen Felix do it to Heidi before and you were hooked ever since, wanting him to do it to you.  Funnily enough, your dips looked like Felix flailing for side to side since your were so young. Heidi mimicked her arm movement the same way you did as Felix quietly asked her if he was ready. Heidi nodded simply before she was dipped side by side. 

As Felix continued to dance with the air, when there was a knock on the door. Felix -not so gracefully- flopped onto the bed. Eyes shut. Marcus opened the door, inspecting the room. "Such joy in here." There was a ghost of a smile on his face. "Master, (Y/N) won't dance with me!" Felix whined. "They're saving their dances for this evening." Marcus smirked slightly at you and you frantically shook your head. "Unfortunately, I must borrow young (Y/N) if we don't mind." Marcus asked. "Take them! They've shattered my heart. I'll never dance again!" Felix said dramatically as you hopped off your bed and moved towards Marcus. 

 "My apologies, it seems I sought you out at a bad time." Marcus said, you caught onto the barely evident humour. You were used to that with Marcus. He did his best with you and only later on did you really find out why he was sad most of the time. "I'd say it was a perfect time." You said with a smile. You caught the ghost of a smile on Marcus' face. "Might I also wish you happy birthday. You grow so quickly." You smiled. "It's a human thing." Marcus let out a quiet hum of amusement.  He led you to his room. 

You rarely saw Aro, Marcus or Caius' rooms. There was a couple of times you were in Caius' room but that was with Athenodora and that she couldn't leave. "Aro and I were talking a short time ago." Marcus began once you entered his room to your surprise you found Aro, Caius, Sulpicia and Athenodora standing inside and waiting for you along with Demetri. "We decided a gift was in order. After some thought, we knew what we wanted to give you and informed your father." You spared your father a glance who simply stared back at you, a hand behind his back. "You mean so much to us, sweetheart." Athenodora spoke up gently. "We can't help but remember that there is someone who would have loved you just as much as we do. Someone who never got the chance to meet you.” You stood still and quiet. Aro continued Athenodora’s words with his own, as he stood by Marcus. “Marcus and I can both agree that it’s only right that we share a piece of her with you...”  “Because you remind us of her everyday with that lovely smile of yourself and the life you’ve brought into this castle.” Marcus finished, before turning towards his desk. 

You felt tears welling up in your eyes as it hit you just who they were speaking of. The grandmother you never got to meet, the woman that took a piece of Marcus with her when she died. Didyme. You were told she could make people unbelievably happy and to hear you even reminded them of her, the realisation made a tear run down your face. Athenodora broke into a soft smile. Marcus turned around with something small in his hand.  “Take care of it, because once it was hers... and now it’s yours.” Carefully, Marcus placed a brooch, a very expensive one at that in your hand. It was gold, heavy with three large amethyst stones that were surrounded by smaller diamonds. Another tear ran down your face as you looked up at the coven. The scene reminding you that they were a family and to gift you this, they considered you family, or close enough to give you something of their passed away loved one. Something personal and sentimental to them. Your mouth opened but what felt at the worst possible time, nothing came out. You tried again and nothing.  “It’s alright, darling.” Athenodora smiled. “We know.” You looked down at the brooch with a sad smile.  “Grandma.” You mouthed, a whisper of the word. Athenodora, overcome with emotion covered her mouth, leaning into Caius who stood behind her.  “You’re sure?” You managed out a croaked whisper, looking to Marcus.  “Yes.” Marcus assured you.  “I...feel like i should hug you.” You said quietly, coherent sentences finally escaping you. A soft smile grew on Marcus’ face.  “Come here then.” Marcus said as he stepped forward, giving you a gentle hug. 

Seeing the Volturi gathered together was rare, but so were happy moments. However that’s all it was, a moment because it wasn’t an ending, not to them. It was the end of a chapter. It was a reminder of why the vampires had to keep secret. To keep sacred moments like this for themselves, away from the outside forces. Where vampires could create their forever and their happy endings that many of them weren’t given from birth or death.  As Alec twirled you and Jane with both arms, a smile dawned on his face. He thought about how the human world wasn't kind to him. It had already decided that he and his sister didn't have a place in the world before they had even been born. The human in him died the night the fire would consume him, his sister the same. Yet the vampire world allowed he and his sister moments like this. Which just as for many others in the room, proved to be a reminder why the Volturi did what they did.  For tonight, the twins didn’t have to be guards, they didn’t have to be the witch twins, for tonight they could be Jane and Alec. 

“I can’t dance!” You whined with a smile.  “It’s not difficult, i promise. Nothing too complicated.” Demetri smiled slightly, pulling you into the crowd of dancing vampires. As the two of you swayed, you couldn’t help but enjoy it. It was oddly calming. It was clear to see Demetri couldn’t be happier. Neither noticed that Heidi had caught the sight. With a smile, she raised her phone recoding the scene before her. “I’ve been wanting to thank you.” You said finally.  “For what?” Demetri asked.  "You gave me so much." You said after a moment. Demetri’s response was instant. "You gave me much more." Demetri knew you’d never understand to what extent he meant that. You allowed him to be a father again, a privilege he had lost and never gotten the opportunity to remember. Now he had another child, who he loved more than anything in the world and he got to remember and cherish every second. Some are very lucky to be a parent once but to be a parent twice, that was special to Demetri- a miracle.  Even as you stood before him complete opposite to the little one he rescued prior. He could see glimpses of that little one.    It was strange at the very least, for humans you had been around for fifteen years and for vampires, that was no time at all.  Demetri looked at you and he could see the child, no older than six who hadn't dared speak a word. He twirled you and remembered the silent laughter that turned into quiet giggles which soon turned into real laughter as time went on. He pictured that child in front of him and before meeting their eyes, once again you were older and wore a beautiful smile on your face.  “I was so lucky to be your father...after everything. I’m so lucky to have you as my child.” You tilted your head slightly a small hum of amusement escaping you. “I think i’m the lucky one, dad. Don’t you know why?”  “Why?” Demetri asked, playing along.  You grinned at him stopping momentarily. "Because my dad is a superhero." Demetri’s heart melted, remembering the conversation you had with Heidi all those years ago. He kissed your forehead before emotions could overcome him. 

At the end of the night, Athenodora moved towards you with a smile holding a cake in her hands. You grinned at Demetri who sat beside you, a chorus of happy birthday blaring in your ears. Once the song was over, they waited for you to blow out the candles.  “Make a wish!” Athenodora grinned. You thought for a moment with a smile before blowing out the candles. Clapping erupted and Demetri pulled you into him to kiss your forehead. “Happy Birthday, sweetheart.”

Heidi smiled when she saw Demetri sitting alone on the sofa later than night when things were dying down. She knew Demetri well. He'd hadn't acknowledged her mostly because he was so deep in thought he hadn't noticed her. She knew what had his attention. You did, even when not in the room. You were always on Demetri's mind. Demetri was reminiscing and so Heidi thought there was no better time to show him the video than the present. "Don't tell me you're moping now. It was a good time." Heidi grinned sitting beside him. Demetri cast her a glance with an amused smile. "Not moping. Just thinking, reminiscing perhaps." "They're not gone, you act like you may lose them." Heidi responded to Demetri, a little more seriously this time but keeping the mood light. "It feels like that slightly. It feels like I lost the little one I found hiding under a table and that I spent countless hours in attempt to get them to speak.” Heidi hummed slightly. "Well, allow me to put you mind at ease." Demetri turned his head to look at Heidi who smiled at him warmly. "That child is still here, a little older yes, but here. They're heading to their room right now, happy as can be. Deep down, the child you rescued is still in (Y/N). It's the same person and they want the same as they wanted back then. It's what every child wants really." Heidi said. "What's that?" Demetri said quietly. "To make their parents proud." Heidi said simply with a smile. Demetri's face melted into a heartfelt smile. His emotions rising. "They make me more proud every day. I just think about how lucky I've been to have them." Heidi wrapped an arm around Demetri's shoulder however still keeping distance between them. "Children are gifts." Heidi agreed. "However I feel I must remind you, again, that you're not losing them. They'll be changed soon and their survival chances are high with us. You'll have one year where you'll want to rip your hair out because you have a teenage newborn-" Demetri chuckled and Heidi continued. "Then you'll have eternity with them. Your baby." Heidi whispered the last part. "I watched that little one grow up and I watched how becoming a father changed you. It was beautiful. A privilege. It doesn't end here. They'll still need you and you'll always be their father." After a moment Heidi looked at her phone, shifting closer to Demetri. "Look at this. You'll like it." Demetri leaned into Heidi's shoulder to get a look at the screen and Heidi rested her head on top of his. She hit play. Demetri inhaled sharply and stiffened as he saw the very moment he thought he'd never get back. A memory he treasured and hoped that you'd remember. The two of you dancing. Demetri smiling down at you as grinned up at him. Demetri smiled when he saw that Heidi had captured all of it, as he watched himself twirl you. The same moment he thought back to the much younger you.  "We're going to keep this, make copies and from this day on. You'll have this. I don't care what we have to do to keep it. We're doing it. Forever." 

 "Hey, can I show you something?" You grinned at Alec after he walked you to your room. He made a face as though pretending he was reluctant. He hummed in 'thought'. "I'm not sure, I might blind myself before you get the chance." "Alec!" You whined but laughed none the less. "You can't even use your gift on yourself!" "I might! You don't know if I've ever tried." Alec replied. You took his hand, tugging slightly. "Please!" "Of course you can show me, go on then." Alec smirked. He let you pull him into your room. "So look what I found." You dug into your desk drawer and pulled out something that fit your hand perfectly. Alec was quick to recognize it was your old nightlight. The one you had been given when afraid of the dark. "You're old nightlight?" Alec said in surprise. "I haven't seen that in a while... it’s definitely been a few years." You nodded in agreement. "I found it in my storage boxes. I didn't realize I still had it after all this time but I couldn't bring myself to get rid of it." Alec hummed with an amused smile. "Well it was a companion to get you through the nights." "He says like it ever affected him when I was afraid of the dark." You smirked. "You'd scream every night as though being brutally murdered. Believe me. We were all relieved that you got that thing and we still had our hearing intact." "Oh haha!" You said sarcastically. "Anyway, it gave me an idea. Heidi helped me out but I think you're the first to see it." "Oh the surprise continues, I thought that was it." Alec said. "I'm too old for a nightlight, but I miss it. This was the next best thing." You said as you moved to a switch that was connected to...something. Alec wasn't entirely sure what it was. 

When you flicked the switch the room lit up. Alec was taken aback. Along your ceiling was a galaxy. A mixture of soft purples, pinks and blues which mixed in with the darkness of the room perfectly. Scattered along the ceiling is specks of white that was clearly replicating stars, it did a good job at it too. Seeing technology coming so far along for anyone in the Volturi always took them by surprise. "It's beautiful." Alec said quietly. "Get on my bed." You said and Alec raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me, little human?" Alec smirked. "Are you trying to tell me something?" "Shut up, not like that." You laughed. "Let me tell you, in all my years one thing has remained the same. You can't just demand someone onto your bed without it seemingly a little...forward. You’re also too young and so am I so-" You cut Alec off, who couldn’t help but laugh. "Alec!" You said exasperated. "You know, I didn't mean it like that!" Alec snickered. "Still amusing, little human. I suppose I can comply though, only because I'm intrigued by the that thing." Alec nodded to the unfamiliar object the switch was connected to. He moved the the opposite side of your bed and you lay down beside him. "Ready?" You asked. "Mmhmm." He mumbled. You smiled as you dug your hand down the side of your bed. 

In seconds fairy lights lit up the headboard of your bed. Alec's eyes immediately moved to the source of light before chuckling. "All of that build up for that?" "You made that build up by making it weird!" You shot back.  "Because how many times have we told you to rethink your words!" Alec laughed. "I don't know where you got that from." You groaned. "I try!" "I know you do, I know you try. It's just funny to torment you with it." You glared at him as he continued. "In all seriousness, it's beautiful and Caius will be the first to say that after nine years, you've finally cleaned your room." Alec smirked and you pouted. "I'm not that messy." "So that's what you've been telling yourself all these years." Alec mused and you huffed. "Has Demetri seen this yet?" "No. You're the only one so far." "Well it's safe to say you really like stars." Alec began. "Your nightlight was stars too." "I love stars." You replied. "Can't even say I know why. I wonder if it's because it was the first thing you guys ever gave me was that nightlight." Alec turned to face you with a genuine small smile. "It's so strange." He said to himself. "What is?" You asked. "Nine years ago, when we first met, I carried you on my hip and distracted you when saving you. Now you're as big as me. It's been no time at all...for me." "Yeah, now we're the same height." You smirked. "Although you could still carry me with one arm and all that." "I could but I wouldn't." Alec chuckled. "That'd be so uncomfortable." You laughed. “I can just see it now. ‘Hey guys, I've arrived. By the way, i brought my human friend.” "It was fine back then when you had smaller limbs. Now...?" Alec trailed off, shaking his head. You giggled. "You've come very far, little human." Alec smiled gently turning to look at you. "It feels like only yesterday we couldn't get a word out of you." You smiled lightly. "I'm trying." "You're doing really well." Alec praised you. "You're very good at holding conversations." "I feel safe.with you guys." You admitted. "It's easier." "I'm glad." Alec offered you a soft smile. "It's still difficult sometimes though." You said quietly. "You're allowed your quiet days." Alec reminded you. "But what if when I'm changed...I go back to being quiet all the time?" You asked quietly. "Then you embrace it." Alec reassured you. "Even if you go back to not saying a word, we'll help you all over again." "Is it weird if I said you're my best friend?" You said finally. Alec's face twisted into dismay. "Do I have to be? Can't I be the cool uncle or something? Physically we’re...possibly similar ages but im literally thousands of years older than you."  "But Felix is the cool uncle, so is Santiago- and Uncle Afton! I don't see him as much though." You decided not to point you that mentally he was not older. In fact sometimes he could be younger. "I'm so much better and older than all three of them." Alec grumbled. "Uhmmm well the grandfather roles have already been taken by Aro, Caius and Marcus." "I am not being a grandfather to anyone." Alec said, his eyes widening. "I suppose I can afford to have a human as my best friend... Temporarily human." He sighed with a smile. Your gaze snapped to his with shock. "I'm your best friend!?" Alec thought about it. "I suppose so. You're the next person I care about the most after Jane. So you could be correct. I wouldn't know. I haven't had one before." You burst out into a grin. "Stop that." Alec said quickly. "What?" You asked. "Smiling, stop it." Alec said quickly. "But-" "-and if you tell anyone I'll deny it." Alec said flatly. You tried to wipe the smile from your face. Alec wasn't a very vulnerable person and he hated being this open with someone. However, knowing that you were his best friend, you couldn't fight back your smile. 

Out of nowhere, Alec took the pillow under his head and pushed it down. You screeched but couldn't help but laugh before your voice was muffled. "Stop smiling!" Alec pressed before removing the pillow. "I will smother you." He said, turning his back to you. You barely caught his own small smile.

[ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa]

With Cherries On Top

Chapter 2: The Proposal & The Deal

Summary/Author's Notes: Oh.my.god. the response from part one was fucking WILD. I love you guys so so so much! As always, dedicated to @rae-gar-targaryen. She’s had a bad week, yall, go show her some love. <3 ITS WHAT MAX WOULD DO.

Max explains himself and gets down on one knee to ask the big question. Your trust is tested as he tries to pull a fast one, but he makes you an offer you cannot refuse.

Pairing: Max Phillips x Reader (The Proposal AU) Word Count: 3.3k Warnings: Language, flirting, SEXUAL TENSION, Max Phillips is a bastard man, vampire themes

Chapters [1] [MASTERLIST]

Max finally caught up with you and convinced you to go with him to the immigration office. The entire cab ride across town you were seething. Neither of you spoke, and when the cab parked in front of the Federal Plaza building you got out. Glad to leave him to pay for the cab and top it off with slamming the car door in his face. You heard him growl his frustration but didn’t stop as you stormed into the building and he had to jog to keep up.

"Will you slow down?" He snarled and you ignored him.

How could he be this egregiously shameful? You knew Max was cunning. That he would do anything to make the sale, to close a deal, but this--this was a whole other level, even for him.

In hushed tones, in his office, as you threw your items in your purse, he had explained that he was being deported. That the government had caught him in a technicality of his after-life status versus his human one, and although you agreed it seemed to be a petty place to draw the line, his way of kicking you into the fire with him made you not want to help. Did he deserve to be sent back to Romania? Probably not. But forcing you into marriage? Or an even better term for it would be forcing you into fraud. The two of you were breaking the law and he didn’t even have the balls to ask you first.

The immigration office was jammed packed with multiple lines of people waiting for a free attendant and dozens of others waiting in chairs, looking over reading material and playing on their phones. This was going to take forever. Apparently, Max had other plans, as he grabbed your hand and pulled you both to the front of the line. No one stopped him, no one questioned him as you tried to make your face as apologetic as possible to the people already in line that were giving you dirty looks. He asked for the fiancee visa application and the next thing you knew the two of you were being led into a cramped office in the back and looking over the desk at a very stoic, older, government worker.

“Sorry about the wait, folks,” the older man said as he pulled out a file folder filled with papers. “Busy day.”

“Of course, of course,” Max nodded, crossing his ankle over his knee and giving the man his best smile. “We appreciate you meeting with us on such short notice.”

The older man looked Max up and down slowly and smirked--whatever Max was selling, he wasn’t buying and the realization made you want to lean over the chair and vomit on the floor. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Okay, so, I only have one question for you,” he continued to smirk as he closed your file and steepled his fingers in front of him. “Are you both committing fraud, in order to keep Mr. Phillips here from being deported back to Romania and losing his position as CFO at his company?”

“What!”

“Ridiculous!”

Max and you both scoffed at the same time and shook your heads as you waved your hands in front of you and he rolled his eyes, giving a good-hearted laugh.

“Mr.--” Max looked at the nameplate on the desk as he leaned forward and addressed the man. “Yates. That is an absurd assumption. We are just a couple that want to get married and I assure you, our case will be the easiest one you have all day. So, just tell us what we need to sign and we can get out of your hair.”

You wished more than anything you had the courage to grip Max’s leg and beg him to shut up. His normal bullshit was not going to get either of you any favors with this man and if he didn’t tread carefully, you both were about to be in a world of trouble. You knew you wouldn't last in jail, but Max really wouldn't last in jail. That mouth that never seemed to stop talking would get him stabbed...wait, maybe jail was a good idea after all.

"What makes you think we're lying, Mr. Yates?" You asked, crossing your ankles and moving your legs to the side comfortably.

"A tip that came in this afternoon from a concerned citizen--"

"His name wouldn't happen to be Evan, would it?" Max asked.

"As a matter of fact, it is."

"I knew it. He is nothing more than a very disgruntled employee who is out to get me." Max shook his head and waved it away as if that discredited the tip. "I fired him this morning."

The other man scribbled down a couple of notes and went back to pressing his fingertips together and leaning his elbows on the desk. He heaved a large sigh and suddenly looked very tired.

“Here’s what’s going to happen next, you two. I am going to schedule you an interview for next week. I am going to put you both in separate rooms. I am going to ask you a series of questions that real couples would know all of the answers to.” He said the term ‘real’ in a pointed way and looked directly at you, making your stomach fall to your feet. “And that’s the easy part--”

“Okay, seems fair.” Max started, but Mr. Yates ignored him.

“Then I am going to dig deeper. I’m going to check your phone records, your emails, talk to your friends and family--your coworkers. If anything, and I mean anything, seems out of order or does not match your story, you,” he pointed to Max. “Will be deported to Romania indefinitely. And you, young lady,” he turned and pointed to you. “Will be fined two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars with a minimum five year sentence in federal prison.”

You swallowed so hard it hurt as you felt your vision narrow, your body threatening you with the idea of passing out. You felt like you were sitting inside a vacuum, like a larger entity had sucked all of the air out of the already too small office space.

Prison. It wasn’t enough that you had been at his beck and call for the last five years. If this all went sideways, Max Phillips, in a last act of extreme selfishness was going to get you sent to prison.

“So, that being said, Ms. (y/l/n),” he smiled and crossed his arms as he addressed you. “Do you want to talk to me? Tell me what’s really going on here.”

“What’s really going on--” you started, your heart hammering in your ears so loudly that you were sure Mr. Yates could hear it.

You looked at Max and thoughtp about how you wanted to do this. Could you really throw him under the bus and let them ship him away from his home? Could you match his heartlessness and protect yourself above all else? No. Despite how much he deserved it, that wasn’t how you operated. He had insisted on dragging you into this mess and now it seemed, at least for the time being, you were going to have to play along. He looked at you with those soft, coffee colored eyes, so full of anticipation that you almost groaned. Instead you reached over the arm of his chair and patted his leg.

“What’s really going on is that Max and I are getting married,” you squeezed his knee and saw him give a full body sigh of relief out of the corner of your eye. “We just couldn’t tell anyone.”

“And why not?”

“Because he’s a vampire,” you shrugged. “And we were worried how my family would take it.”

“I see,” Mr. Yates leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms waiting for you to continue.

“And--” you, glanced at Max and back. “Because of the promotion.”

“Promotion?”

“Promotion?”

Both Max and the older man said at the same time and you steeled your resolve and continued.

“Yes, I am in line for a big promotion, and both of us felt if our relationship went public before that it would look unprofessional. Right, honey?” You looked at Max and although you were smiling, your eyes dared him to say otherwise.

“That’s...right, dear.” He nodded, putting his hand over yours on his knee.

Mr. Yates looked at the both of you for what felt like a very long time. You kept your smile even for so long, your cheeks started to ache. The hand you had on Max’s thigh offered a small amount of comfort and you allowed it to ground you, to center your mind as you did your best to look like the definition of truthfulness.

“Well,” he sighed and opened up a filing cabinet and pulled a very large binder full of papers for the two of you. “If that’s the story you’re sticking to. Here are the questions you could be asked, there are about three hundred of them--along with all of the forms that need to be filled out, references we will need, and copies of your identifications. As well as,” he paused and looked pointedly at the both of you. “The marriage certificate.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly as you leaned forward and took the binder from him.

“Have either one of you told your families about this, happy little arrangement?” he asked as he gestured between the two of you.

Max laughed and shook his head. “No, my parents are dead. Only child, too. It’s a real shame.”

Mr. Yates, chuckled dryly, not understanding how such information could be considered funny. “And what about you, Ms. (L/n)? Are all of your relatives dead as well?”

“Mine?” you put a hand to your chest. “No, no, they are alive--”

“We were actually going to tell them the news this weekend,” Max chimed in and you looked at him in surprise. “It’s grandma’s 85th birthday--we thought it would be a nice surprise.”

You stared at him like he had grown a second head. How did he know about your grandmother’s birthday? The idea that Max paid more attention to you than you thought was sitting uneasily in your stomach, but you continued to smile and nodded in agreement.

“We’re flying up to, (y/n)’s parents house.” Max took the binder as you handed it to him.

“And where is that?”

“Alaska.” You said simply, crossing your legs and adjusting the hem of your pencil skirt, reveling in the way Max’s entire face fell.

“Ah-ah-las-kah?" Max stuttered and glared at you. "Alaska." He cleared his throat and repeated.

You returned his intense look of malice with an overly satisfied smile. It felt good to ruffle those feathers, to catch him off guard and see him out of his element.

“Well, I wish you both a safe trip,” Mr. Yates stood up to show you the door and the both of you mirrored him. “I’ll call to schedule your visa interview after what I’m sure will be a lovely week.”

--

Leaving the federal office felt like you were walking in slow motion. You vaguely heard Max put his bluetooth on his ear and take a call, letting his boisterous voice echo in the too loud, too crowded lobby. Going out onto the street and feeling the cool air on your skin didn’t make breathing any easier as you thought about what just happened. In your trance you almost dropped the heavy glass door on Max’s face.

He hung up the call and started talking like everything was just a normal day back at the office, like the two of you hadn’t just been threatened with the American government absolutely ruining your lives.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he said as he put his sunglasses on to protect him against the already very overcast autumn sky. “What’s going to happen is we are going to run up to your parent’s place, act like we’re boyfriend and girlfriend--we can stay in a hotel and that will make it easier to fake. Make sure you use the miles for the tickets--”

“Max…”

“I will pay to have you fly first class, but only, and I mean only if you use the miles. If I don’t get rewards, then we aren’t going.” He pulled his sleeve up slightly and looked at his watch. “Also, please confirm they offer vampire accommodations, because I swear if they put me next to some old hag like last time and I have to smell her O-positive, diabetic, dustiness for six hours--I’m. Going. To. Lose. It.”

“Max--”

He stopped as he realized he had walked quite a ways in front of you and he turned around. “Why aren’t you taking notes?”

Your jaw dropped and you stomped over to him and shoved the binder against his chest with enough force that he stumbled back a step. “I’m sorry! Were you not in that room with me just now? Were you not fucking listening??” You were almost screaming and he looked around quickly before stepping closer and towering over you.

“You look crazy, calm down--”

“Calm down? You have some neve, Max. Some. Fucking. Nerve.” With each word you poked your manicured finger into the middle of his chest, on top of his stupid, yellow tie. He grabbed your wrist to stop you but you yanked out of his grip. “Don’t touch me.”

“Listen,” he took a breath and spoke to you like the ticking time bomb that you were. “You did well back there. That thing about the promotion? That was genius. He really bought that.”

Evan’s words rang back through your head and you took a step back looking at Max. He's never going to promote you. You know that, right? Five years. For five years you had done everything for him. You had done the work of an executive level salesman and made a secretary's salary. And for what? To constantly be missing out on important things in your life? Friends. Family. Dating. You couldn't remember the last time you had actually been on a date with anyone. Everything seemed to revolve around the man in front of you--and you had reached your limit. All of this was asking too much of you.

When you finally spoke, your voice was flat and even. “I meant it. I want that promotion.”

“To what? Evan’s job?” He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“I’m the one that is facing a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar fine, and jail time--that changes things. I want Evan’s old job and a thirty percent raise.” You crossed your arms and planted your feet as you held his gaze.

Max moved his bottom jaw from one side to the other, a tick you had often seen and come to realize meant he was mulling over his options. “Fifteen.”

“Forty.” You counter offered the wrong way and he gave a hard bark of laughter. “Okay, fine. I’m walking. You’re screwed. Goodbye, Max--have fun in Romania.”

No sooner did you turn around did Max lunge forward and grab you by the upper arm. “Okay! Okay. Fine.”

“Fine?”

He looked at you pointedly and pulled you into the front of his body. His eyes shimmered for a brief moment and his lips turned upward into a small grin. “Unless--you’ll take something else? Plus, ten percent of course, I’m not a monster.”

You felt as if a small breeze was whispering against the nape of your neck, and you fought the urge to bat at it like a fly. The press of his voice worked its way into your ear and you could almost feel it trying to go deeper. When you realized what he was doing, you gasped and slapped him across the face. “Did you just try and hypnotize me??”

“Ah, shit!” he released your arm and put his hand to his cheek. “Did it not work?!”

“Go to hell, Max!” You turned once again and started walking down the sidewalk, ignoring the faces of the people that were nosily watching your heated exchange.

“Why the fuck didn’t it work--” he mumbled, continuing to rub his cheek and coming to his senses once he saw you putting more distance between the two of you. “Hey!” He jogged quickly and passed you easily in your high heels, turning around so he could look you in the eye. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Typical,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“I can’t do this without you,” he held his hands up defensively and gave you an almost pleading look. “I’ll give you the promotion, and the raise. If I’m not at that company, they will get rid of you like that,” he snapped his fingers and you clenched your jaw. “I don’t want to go back to Romania. I didn’t have such a good trip the last time.” He smiled way too large, an action more for the purpose of pulling back his lips so he could gesture to his fangs. “So, will you do this?”

"I have a few conditions."

"Name them."

"We do this my way, and on my terms. This is my family that we are lying to, so we will tell them when I want, and how I want."

"Done. Next?"

"How did you know it was my grandmother's birthday?"

"You think I can't hear every time your family calls and begs you to quit? Even without superhuman hearing--you sit right next to my office." He made a gesture of his hand pantomiming a small distance.

"Fine."

"Fine." You both said one right after the other in shared stubbornness and mutual disdain. "Anything else?"

You crossed your arms under your breasts slowly and straightened your shoulders. “Ask me nicely.”

“Ask you what? I just--”

“Ask me to marry you.”

Max paused and leaned back a bit, rubbing a hand down his face and chuckling like your request was unbelievable. “Uh. Fine. Fine.” He nodded and cleared his throat. “Will you marry me?”

“Like you mean it,” you insisted. “On your knees.”

He gaped at you like a fish out of water. His large hand rubbed the back of his neck as he looked around embarrassed by the idea that any of the hundreds of people on the street could see what he was about to do. He looked at the ground to make sure there wasn't anything obviously sticky lurking on the pavement before slowly getting down on one knee.

"There. Happy?" He gestured to himself and you nodded.

"Oh, extremely."

He sighed and bit his tongue with what he really wanted to say as he looked up at you from his spot on the ground. "So, will you marry me?"

"I believe I said, ask me nicely. Sales. Is. Seduction. Right, Max?" You clenched your fists and brought them into your chest, mimicking his speech from earlier in a most obnoxious way. "Seduce me, then. Really sell it."

Max blew a heavy sigh in the form of a loud raspberry and cracked his neck. He shook out his arms in a dramatic display like he was getting ready to perform and finally looked up at you. His expression was genuine enough. His eyes were warm and his smile small, and he even took your hand and held it out in front of him lightly.

"Sweetheart--(y/n), beautiful, intelligent, decadent, sexy, vibrant--"

"Enough." You said with a frown. "Remember, I'm a person, not a dessert."

He continued as if you hadn't interrupted his string of praise. "Will you please, with cherries on top, marry me?"

You tapped your chin in mock contemplation and gave a single nod. "Okay. Yes. Although I don't appreciate the sarcasm." You let go of his hand and let it fall to his side as you adjusted your purse on your shoulder. "Get me a ring. If we break the news to my mother and there's no ring, she will go bezerk."

"Fair enough."

"See you at the airport, Max."

You walked passed him without another word, leaving the most powerful man you had ever met on his knees in the middle of the New York street.

--

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Month of Miracles - Dressing Up Part 2

Find the prompt list here!

Hallmark Movie AU Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 (end) | Read Month of Miracles on AO3

Marinette tapped her pencil on the small stack of sketches and sighed. She felt dissatisfied with them, but that was nothing new. She was dissatisfied with almost everything she made these days, so why should this be any different?

Her thoughts drifted back to Luka for the hundredth time. She was going to have to face him again. He was expecting her and she really did need to source some materials from the wardrobe he was offering. 

She might be able to put it off a day, though, she mused. Maybe it would be better to give him some space, anyway. She had just rejected him, after all. That had to sting, no matter how chill he acted about it. Marinette would be doing him a favor, staying away for a day. She could go shopping and see what she could get in the way of basic materials first. That was a perfectly plausible excuse. 

Coward, she thought sourly at herself, and sighed, dropping her head into her arms.

It would be easier if she didn’t like him so much. Marinette turned her head and looked at her phone where it lay on the table in its cheerful pink case. She could text him, but...would that be weird? People here didn’t seem to do that, they just...popped up. He’d told her just to show up whenever, but…

I don’t have his number, she realized suddenly. How funny was that? All the times they’d talked, and they’d never even traded numbers. 

She wouldn’t even be able to text him when she went back to the city. The thought made her ache, but she pushed it aside. That was the kind of problem you could push off for later, she thought as she packed up her things. Not like making out with a guy you were probably never going to see again once the week was out. Which was a real, actual problem that should be avoided. 

Right?

Marinette groaned, and grabbed Gina’s car keys, marching out of the door. She had a job to do, and surely she was still professional enough to manage that much. 

She had herself mostly together by the time she pulled into the Couffaine farm. The yard wasn’t empty when she pulled in, to her mild surprise. 

“Ahoy, Marinette!” Anarka called, waving at her, and Marinette, feeling she should be polite, got her kit out of the car and walked over to where Anarka was working. Ankara was unloading some small saplings from the back of a pickup truck that looked a lot like Luka’s, only about twenty years older. “For a moment there, I fergot it was you and not yer grandma pulling up,” Anarka chuckled as Marinette approached. “Here t’see Luka, I expect? He said ye were comin’ by.” 

“Yes,” Marinette tried to smile, and hoped she didn’t blush too hard at Luka’s name. Yes, hi, I kissed your son this morning and broke his heart, so this isn’t awkward at all. Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?

“He’s been working like a demon all day,” Anarka commented, lifting another tree down with a grunt. “He was drivin’ me crazy, bein’ so efficient, and I about bit his head off.” She glanced at Marinette, who tried hard not to look guilty. “Told him to make himself scarce for a bit. I think he went t’ take a shower, but he should be done by now.” 

“Oh,” Marinette said lamely, trying very hard not to think of accidentally walking in on a freshly showered and not entirely dressed Luka. Maybe awkward small talk was for the best. “He, um. He said you were done for the year?”

“Aye, closed to the public fer the year,” Anarka smiled. “Though o’ course if there was anyone in town that needed anythin’ we’d open right back up. Nah, the public part of business is done for the year. Now it’s just all the work nobody sees.” She turned away from Marinette for a moment, walking over to the rail fence that separated the rows of trees. Marinette followed, unsure what else to do, her kit bumping against her knees as she carefully skirted the saplings. 

“Never really thought I’d end up in a place like this,” Anarka said, leaning her elbows against the fence rails. “There’s a kinda poetry t’ it, though. Renewal. Rebirth. The old makin’ way for the young.” She winked at Marinette, and then went on. “I might not even be here by the time these trees are big enough t’ cut. Got a wandering foot, y’know, and it’ll take seven or eight years minimum for these to get the size where anyone would even consider cutting ‘em. Who’s to say I won’t be off to some new adventure by then? But they’ll still be here, growing, because I planted them. Endings, beginnings. Sometimes it’s hard to tell one apart from the other, aye?” 

Marinette made a noise in reply automatically, but Anarka’s musings had put her thoughts on another track, and she barely heard the last bit. 

Anarka eyed her sidelong for a moment, and then sighed and shoved herself off the fence, turning to smile at Marinette with her hand on her hips. “Out with it, lass, what’s on yer mind?”  

Marinette blushed, snapping back to the present. “Nothing. It’s none of my business.” 

“Maybe not,” Anarka shrugged. “Ye can still ask, though. If I don’t want to tell ye, I just won’t.” 

Marinette shifted her weight and adjusted her grip on the handle of her kit, still uncomfortable, but...“Were you...disappointed?” she asked in a low voice. “When Luka gave up his career?”

Anarka laughed loud enough that it echoed back to them. “Nah, lass, I was proud . Luka was miserable, livin’ that life. It takes guts to admit that and come home, ‘specially when everyone around you is telling you how lucky ye are, having a talent and a chance like that. Like somehow you owe some cosmic debt and if ye don’t stick it out, yer wastin’ somethin’. Like success is a cookie cutter and ye have to slice away bits of yerself to make it fit.” She shook her head. “It’s not how I raised my kids. I taught them to take chances, and I taught them not to let fear make their decisions—and I also taught them that there’s no shame in what the world likes to call failure. There’s no shame in trying out the different shapes of success until you find one that fits, instead o’ tryin’ t’ force yerself into the one kind.” 

Marinette blinked at her, surprised at the way her expression softened as she spoke. 

Anarka was silent a moment and then sighed. “Still. You do your best to teach them, but you never know whether the lesson’s gonna stick. So when I think of the courage it took for Luka to walk away, to look so-called failure in the face and turn it into just another lesson learned, to find a way to believe that he’s still his father’s son even if he doesn’t follow in the old man’s footsteps—I’m so proud I could burst.” Marinette started slightly as Anarka suddenly stepped forward and put a surprisingly gentle hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “Luka’s never needed to prove his talent to me, lass. He’s still finding his feet again, and that’s okay. When he’s ready, he’ll make success fit him instead of the other way around, I’ve no doubt of that.” She squeezed Marinette’s shoulder, and looked at Marinette for a long moment. Marinette swallowed nervously, but couldn’t think of anything to say. 

Ankara let her hand drop and jerked her head towards the house. “Go on now, we’ve both got things to be doing. Go straight on in, he’ll be expecting you.” She turned back to her young trees, and Marinette, clearly dismissed, turned towards the house, butterflies surging back to life in her stomach. She was being stupid, she told herself. Luka had accepted her rejection gracefully, and tried so hard to make her comfortable. Marinette was sure she’d hurt his feelings if she suddenly got awkward about being around him, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. 

Marinette sneaked a glance back towards Anarka, and then despite what she had been told, she knocked as loudly as she could. She lingered on the doorstep as long as she dared (which wasn’t very long, knowing that Anarka could see her not going on in), and let herself into the house. She could hear guitar music even before she got the creaky old door open, and once inside, she followed it to the great room. Luka was perched on the same fragile-looking chair as before, with an acoustic in his hands this time. He looked up as she entered, and smiled, laying his hand flat against the strings. His hair was damp, and his t-shirt sticking to him a little bit. He couldn’t have been out of the shower long and Marinette was kind of glad she’d stopped to talk to Anarka. 

Luka stood up and put the guitar in a stand, and Marinette realized she hadn’t even said hi, but it seemed too late now. “I was starting to think Mom was going to talk your ear off before you made it up here,” Luka teased gently as he straightened. 

“Oh, we were just, um—” Marinette winced. “Talking.” She was so lame, ugh. 

“I saw through the window,” Luka grinned. “Figured you’d get here when you were ready. The stuff’s all in the attic, so…” He gestured towards the stairs, and then reached for her kit. “Can I get that for you?”

Too flustered to object politely, Marinette let him take it, and then followed him. She should say something, she thought, but she couldn’t think of anything.

She sighed mournfully as they climbed the stairs. Part of her ached for what he was offering—but she was pretty sure that same part wouldn’t want to let him go, and that was just...and really, she was such a disaster, and he was amazing, and he deserved so much better than someone who was so mixed up and wishy-washy. Why did they have to meet like this? Would it have been different if they met before?

Except before, she was with Adrien, too dazzled and in love to even see anyone else, and Luka had been a rock star, surrounded by all the glamorous women he could possibly want, and she had never really stood out, as Audrey loved to remind her. She just didn’t have Adrien’s celebrity magnetism, nor Audrey’s force of personality, so she was always overlooked. It was no wonder that nobody ever really saw her until she came here. 

“Well, here we are,” Luka’s voice broke into her thoughts. He was reaching up to grab a hanging cord. 

Marinette shook her head and slapped her cheeks as Luka pulled the attic ladder down and ascended it. None of this was actually solving the problem at hand. She needed to keep her mind on the costumes. Marinette had sketched out some ideas at home, thinking she could probably get some sheets to use as a base, and then maybe she could source some of the less expensive things from Luka’s old wardrobe for embellishments on the fancier things like the angels, or for the snaps and things. There was a single big box store in town, actually; the selection would be limited but surely she could find some things there too. This project was ridiculously easy, when it came down to it. She had a plan that would work, and it was all simple sewing, stuff she could do in her sleep. No sweat. 

So why were her hands shaking?

She lifted her hands and watched them tremble before her eyes. She felt her breath getting short.

She started when a large hand closed over both of hers. “Marinette.” She looked up, and Luka was there, framed against the light coming down from the attic. “Are you all right?” 

“Yeah,” she said, a little too quickly, with a smile that was a little too wide. “Just, hoping there will be some stuff I can use.” 

Luka smiled. “It’ll be fine. Come on up.” He shifted his hold to just one of her hands and drew her up the narrow stairs after him.

He let go of her hand once she was up, and Marinette looked around in mild surprise. The attic was cleaner than she expected. Cluttered, like the rest of the house, and full of things in piles and stacked, sometimes draped in sheets, but she didn’t encounter the dust she had expected, and the small, high windows were clean and let in plenty of light. She wondered if they were just carting things in and out of here so often that they kept it clean, or if they used the space for more than storage. There was a clear path to where they needed to be, and she followed Luka across the creaking floor.

Marinette waited nervously as he whisked the protective sheets off two racks of clothes. Marinette had to blink as the light hit the clothes; there were metal accents and rhinestones and metallic fabrics everywhere, and she was unprepared for the amount of light they threw back in her eyes. 

“There it is,” Luka sighed, folding his arms as he sat on a trunk a short distance away. “Every bedazzled scrap of it.”

She had to giggle a little at that. Luke Stone had certainly favored ostentation, though that was almost unavoidable when you played with Jagged Stone. 

Still, they didn’t have to, she thought, as she walked up and began mechanically sliding looks along the rack to have a look. They could have played up his simplicity. They could have made him stand out by contrast, rather than by imitation. She wondered if they were deliberately setting up an implied rivalry between father and son with their choices, or if they just hadn’t thought a rock star could be simple. Costume design wasn’t exactly the same thing as fashion design, but there was enough overlap that— 

Marinette brought her thoughts back to the present, and swallowed as she stepped back again, suddenly overwhelmed. She turned away and opened her kit slowly, taking out the stack of drawings she’d left on top, suddenly profoundly dissatisfied with them. Rose and the kids expected her to work magic with this stuff, and all she had was a pile of generic toga-style costumes.

Simple. Uninspired. Pedestrian. 

Her gut began to churn.

Marinette glanced at Luka nervously, and then jerked her gaze quickly away, but of course he caught it. 

“I don’t have to be here if it makes you uncomfortable,” he said quietly. “I can go back downstairs and you can just call me if you need help with anything.”

That was so far from her thoughts that it gave her pause. “You...don’t make me uncomfortable,” she said, and looked back at him with a sad smile. “You never have. You’ve been...really wonderful, Luka, now matter how weird things got. I am uncomfortable, but it’s not about you.” Taking a breath, Marinette stepped back to the rack and ran her fingers down the fabric in front of her in a practiced motion, taking in the composition and the drape almost without conscious thought.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Luka asked quietly. 

Marinette thought about that for a moment, and then turned back to the garments on the rack. “Not tonight.” She couldn’t afford to get worked up now, she had to figure something out. She...she had to do something, she couldn’t just…

“Okay.” Luka said simply, and Marinette swallowed hard, squeezing her eyes shut. He was so understanding, but—what was she going to do? She couldn’t just drape the kids in sheets and call it a day, they deserved so much better than that. She had to figure something out, she had to—She put both hands in her hair and pulled it, trying to focus on the clothes in front of her, but her eyes stung. She squeezed them shut tight and held her breath, trying to keep it together. 

Luka’s hands closed on her shoulders from behind, squeezing lightly, and Marinette turned to him in a rush, burying her face in his chest. 

“Marinette, look at me,” he said, pushing her shoulders back gently and taking her face in his hands. “Just breathe, and look at me.”

Marinette stared up into his blue eyes, reflecting calm and assurance while all that fluttered in her chest was panic and self-doubt.

“Slow down,” he said emphatically. “It’s okay.”

“But I—” she began, and he shook his head.

“Marinette. There’s no failure here. Anything you put together will be better than moldy, moth-eaten rags. Without your help we’d all be frantically cutting armholes in pillowcases or something. No matter what you do, Rose will be ecstatic.” He smiled encouragingly at her. “These are the lowest possible stakes. You can’t screw up, so just have fun with it.” 

Marinette turned her head out of his hands, looking at the designer, rock star wardrobe laid out for her to use. “But—”

Luka reached over and grabbed her fabric scissors out of her kit. He grabbed a shirt at random off the rack, and cut it in half in a ragged line. Marinette stared as he offered her the scissors back. “That’s how little I care about this stuff,” he grinned. 

Marinette’s mouth closed abruptly and she glared at him, and would have snatched the scissors from them if they hadn’t been—well, scissors. Well-sharpened fabric scissors at that. Instead she took them with the appropriate amount of care even as she narrowed her eyes at him. “I might have needed that,” she told him, kicking his foot lightly. 

“I have faith,” Luka grinned wider. “You’ll manage.” 

She huffed and turned back to the garments, and looked at the second rack next to her. Luka backed away, leaning his elbows on an old dresser as he watched her. 

Marinette studied the racks, and suddenly she pulled out her phone, swiping to the group photo she’d taken at the library today. She looked over the children there, at their dyed hair and punk haircuts and all-black outfits interspersed with riots of color, and began to smile a bit. “Okay,” she muttered, picking up a leather garment studded with rhinestones. “I guess this Christmas is about to get a little bit rock ‘n roll.” 

Luka raised his eyebrows slightly.

Marinette barely noticed him, eyes lighting up as her mind began racing. She picked up the stack of designs she had done earlier and crumpled them absently in her hands. “I need my sketchbook,” she muttered. 

“I’ll get it,” Luka said, shoving off the dresser and crossing the room. “Where?”

“I left it in my car. On the passenger seat, I think.”

Luka clattered down the stairs and out of the front door to grab Marinette’s sketchbook. Halfway back up the stairs he hesitated, and ducked into his room to grab his own notebook. Marinette practically snatched the book out of his hand, digging in her kit for her pencils, and Luka grinned, sitting back on the trunk again and resting his notebook on his knee. 

He watched her, fascinated, as her focus narrowed to her task, and she began sketching, making notes and separating out items from the stacks of clothing he never thought he’d look at again. Luka began scribbling notes to himself as well, just...idle thoughts, the web of concepts and ideas that eventually came together to make a song, but he kept looking up to watch her, intrigued by her creative process. She muttered something to herself or tossed something aside with more vehemence than usual and he grinned. 

Slowly, the attic transformed, suddenly strewn with gaudy clothes. Several distinct heaps were forming. Every once in a while Marinette would stop, and go back to her sketchbook, scratching in new details or ideas, or crossing something out with a sigh. 

He jumped slightly, though, when she tossed the book aside with a little scream, and buried her face in her hands. “I’m such an idiot,” she muttered. “Why didn’t I think of that? It’s never going to hold up with that kind of weight, I’m so stupid —” 

“Whoa,” Luka said, a little sharply than he’d meant to, putting his notebook aside and getting up quickly to go to her. “Hey, hey, hey, slow down. What’s wrong?”

“I just—I should have accounted for this, and I didn’t, and now I have to change it—”

“Okay, so change it,” Luka said, putting his hands on her shoulders again to make her look at him. Marinette looked at him like he had two heads, and he almost laughed at her. “Marinette, you’re an artist, not a machine. It’s okay to backtrack and change your mind.” He smiled at her, hoping he looked reassuring and not enchanted. “I know every artist is different and music isn’t the same as fashion, but for me…” he shrugged. “Success comes from a series of small failures. You try something, and it mostly works, but something isn’t quite right, so you make a change and try again. That’s not something to be ashamed of or upset about. If you’re that frustrated, we could take a break. Or if you want to rework it some and come back tomorrow, that’s fine too. I’m not going anywhere.”

Marinette stared at him for a minute, her mouth working soundlessly. She looked down at the sketchbook in her hands, and then back up at him. 

“Do you want to take a break?” Luka asked her. 

“I...no,” she said. “It’s...it’s not that big of a deal, I’m pretty sure I can fix it if I...um—” 

“Okay,” he said simply, giving her shoulders a little squeeze. He really wanted to hug her, to hold her tight and tell her how amazing he found her, how entranced he was watching her work, how alive she looked when she was creating, but—he couldn’t, so he squeezed her shoulders and then let his hands fall. “No need to explain it, I trust you.” He glanced down at the book, and then looked away. “Sorry, I’m not trying to peek, but that—that looks really badass.” He couldn’t help looking again, and, blushing, Marinette turned the book so he could see. His smile grew as he looked at it. “That’s amazing, Marinette, what are you worrying about? If it looks half this cool in real life we’re going to have to have someone standing by to give Rose oxygen.” 

Marinette giggled, and looked back down at it herself. “You really think so?” she murmured, with a small smile that made his heart skip. Just when he thought she couldn’t get any sweeter. 

“I definitely think so,” Luka told her, backing away. He sat down on the floor this time, leaning back against the trunk. He groped behind him blindly for his notebook and nearly knocked it off the far side of the trunk. 

Marinette gave a pleased hum, and then took a deep breath before her brows furrowed into her concentration face. Luka drew his knees up and leaned one elbow on them, smiling like the fool he was. 

There were a few more frustrated groans, but no more spirals, and Luka kept quietly in his place even as piles of fabric grew around him. Finally she sat back and sighed. “I think that’s everything I’m going to need.” 

“Cool.” Luka looked up from his notebook and smiled. 

“I’m so sorry about the mess,” Marinette gasped, looking around as if she had only just now realized the chaos she had created. “I can help you clean it up—” 

Luka cut her off with a laugh. “You’re welcome to,” he chuckled, “but there’s really no need. Clutter is a way of life around here. Trust me, the only reason they were so organized to begin with is because they were delivered that way.” His eyes fell to her sketchbook. “Can I see what you have in mind?” he asked, unable to contain his curiosity any more.

Marinette tensed up immediately, biting her lip. She looked at the book and then at Luka, and then she offered it to him.

Luka took it, though his eyes stayed on her, concerned and a little baffled by her hesitation when the one sketch he’d seen had been so cool. Marinette turned back to the pile of garments she had chosen, though, and so he let his eyes fall and began looking through the few pages of sketches she had made, careful not to go beyond even though he was aching to see more. A slow smile grew on his face as he looked, and he shook his head slightly. “The angels are still my favorite, but these are amazing, Marinette. You might want to get some earplugs because Rose is going to shatter glass when she sees these.” He grinned up at her. “I knew you could do it.” 

She smiled faintly, but looked away. “They’re just pictures, though. I still have to actually execute the designs.” 

“Hey,” Luka said, reaching a hand up towards her. Marinette blinked in surprise, but she slowly stepped forward and put her hand in his. He tugged gently, and she sank to her knees in front of him. “ Yeah, you might have to make some changes when you go to actually put it together, but that’s part of the process for everybody. Sometimes a song I thought was finished doesn’t work out right the first time I play it with the band, and I have to make some changes.” He hesitated, and then went on. “I don’t know what’s going on in there,” he poked her forehead gently. “And I’m not exactly up on fashion, but—” he gestured at the racks of clothes. “I have some experience too, and I gotta say…” he shook his head, and turned the sketchbook towards her. “You outclass anybody else I’ve worked with by far.”  

Marinette blushed deeply. “They’re just costumes,” she murmured, tucking her hair back as she looked away. 

“They could have been, but they’re not.” Luka offered her the book back. “Marinette.” He waited until she looked at him. “Do you like them?”

Marinette looked back at the drawings, and bit her lip. Her face was growing red again. “Yes,” she finally admitted quietly. 

Luka put his fingers under her chin and tipped her face back up. “Stop thinking so hard,” he said gently. “I know it’s easy to lose faith in yourself, but...you’re creating something, you have to find a way to tune all of that stuff out and just be in that moment. You can deal with the aftermath afterwards.” He grinned. “That’s what editing is for, right? Or so I’m told. I was never any good at it.” 

Marinette smiled. “That’s why your music was so good. It was...raw, instinctive. Still polished, but deeply emotional. It’s why I always loved it.” 

It was Luka’s turn to flame up red, and Marinette giggled. 

“That wasn’t fair,” he huffed, pulling his knees up to hide his face in his arms for a moment.

Marinette laughed harder. “How many thousands of records sold and you blush at a little old compliment from a fan?” she teased. 

Luka turned his face on his arms so that he was looking at her. “You’re not just any fan,” he said, and smiled at the pink returning to her cheeks. He sighed, raising his head, and letting his legs fall and cross beneath him again. “Don’t ever let anyone let you feel like you’re not special, Marinette.”

“It’s definitely not a problem when I’m with you,” she said, and then bit her lip, like it had slipped out without her intending it to. 

“Good,” he grinned, and then decided he’d better move before he did something stupid. “So, show me what you need me to take down to the car for you, and we’ll just leave the rest of it like this until you’re done in case you need to come back for something.” 

“Oh,” Marinette’s eyes widened slightly and she scrambled to her feet. “Right.” 

She told him which piles of clothes she wanted to take, and Luka got some bags and gathered them up. Marinette made a token effort at tidying up, despite Luka having told her to leave it. She hung a few things back on the rack, and paused suddenly, hand hovering over a jacket still on the rack. 

Marinette picked it up slowly, looking at it. The scent of leather and something like electronics hit her nose, and her eyes widened slightly. She felt around the bottom hem and found something hard and rectangular there. Another minute of searching, and the jacket lit up in her hands, the fiber optic lights sewn into the seam pulsing faintly. 

Marinette laughed a little, and crossed over to the trunk Luka had been using as a chair all afternoon. She sat down and spread the jacket across her lap. She remembered this. He’d been wearing it at the show she’d gone to. They’d started with all the lights off and just Luka on stage, wearing this jacket and the pants that went with it, making him just an electric outline on the stage when the curtain went up. 

Hard to reconcile that image with the guy from the tree farm, she thought affectionately. But then, he’d always had a reputation for being a sweetheart, good to his fans and generous with his time, so...maybe it wasn’t so hard to believe. 

At least this contraption is well made, she thought, running a finger along one of the light tubes. It was still secure after all this time, and clearly in working order. 

The lights began to flash and jump around, and Marinette giggled. It had started that right before Luke had swept his hand up and down in a dramatic power chord that had rattled her teeth. Once again it was hard to reconcile them in her mind. It was almost funny, now that she knew Luka, remembering those dramatics. 

The light reflected back off something in the corner of her eye, and when she looked, she saw it was the metal coil of Luka’s notebook, half buried under a pile of clothes he had shoved out of the way. She picked the notebook up and smiled a little bit as she did so; the page was a mess, full of scratched out lines, and the writing went every which way in a complicated web. Was this how his mind worked? It was so different from her own process— 

Jewels Diamonds in the sands of time Those are my memories with you And even if it’s only a precious few They’re the ones I’ll keep when everything else flows away

It made Marinette think of her first fashion show, when she’d been new and excited about the garments she was putting out there, excited and happy. That moment shone jewel-bright in her memory, despite all the drudgery that had followed it. That was she was working for, after all, another chance at that feeling. All of this frustration would be worth it if she could have another moment like that. 

Marinette blinked back to reality and suddenly realized what she was doing. She slammed her eyes shut and turned the notebook over in her lap. Oh, she shouldn’t have looked at that, she thought frantically, her heart suddenly beating triple time. This—this was private, just like her designs were, and she shouldn’t have—but she hadn’t meant to— 

Luka’s heavy boots thunked on the stairs and Marinette jumped, dropping the notebook so that it landed on the floor splayed open with an inelegant smack . Marinette scrambled up and hurriedly grabbed it again. She hastily smoothed it out as Luka came the rest of the way up into the attic. “Oh, I think this one is yours,” she said, holding it out to him. 

“Oh, yeah, thanks,” Luka said, curling it in half and sticking it in his back pocket. Marinette tried not to wince. “Anything else?” His eyes landed on the jacket in her hands. “Oh, I see you found the switch,” he chuckled. 

“Will you put it on?” Marinette blurted, and Luka raised his eyebrows at her. “Please?” she smiled, hunching her shoulders slightly as she held it up.   

Eyebrows still raised, Luka took it, and slipped it on. He grimaced slightly as he zipped it up. “Definitely doesn’t fit as comfortably as it used to,” he commented, tugging down on the hem. “Not too bad, though.” 

“You probably build muscles in different places, hauling trees,” Marinette said absently, stepping forward to adjust the way it sat across his shoulders for a moment. “Not as uniform a workout as using a personal trainer. It gives you a more natural build.” She smiled a little as she smoothed the arms and stepped back.

“It still looks good on you,” she observed. “You were wearing this at the concert I went to. The first time I saw you live.” 

Luka smiled ruefully. “Doesn’t exactly have the same effect in my attic, does it?”

“No,” Marinette smiled back. “It was a wonderful performance, though, and I guess I wasn’t expecting to be reminded of it just now.” She bit her lip and asked in a rush, “Were you...were you writing a song? Just now?” She gestured vaguely toward his pocket. 

Luka looked a little taken aback, but not offended. “I was starting to,” he admitted. “I...really enjoy the time we spend together, and it was really nice, seeing a new side of you today. I guess I felt a little inspired, yeah.” 

Marinette’s breath caught. “It was...about me?” 

“About you and me, yeah,” he admitted. “Does that bother you?” 

Marinette’s eyes widened. “No!” How could he think she’d be offended by such a thing? It was...it was amazing, that she’d inspired anything in him, when she was so—and—how she had felt, in that first fashion show, was he...was he saying he felt that way with her ? She shied away from the idea even as she thought it, it was so...so much, and she was so—she was—   

Oh no. Luka was looking at her intently, a slight crease in his forehead. She tried to think of something to say, but her internal meltdown was too complete, and she just stared at him. 

“You’re extraordinary, Marinette,” Luka said softly, and his expression was completely serious and not at all flirtatious. “Getting to see you work today was a privilege. I’m better for meeting you, even if my heart breaks when you’re gone. It’s...it’s a long way from being a song, but I meant it.”

“But I’m…”

Luka shook his head slightly, a smile softening his expression. “You’re what, Marinette? Tell me everything, I want to hear all of it.” 

Marinette gaped. “You—you—how do you do that?” she cried, throwing her hands up. “You’re sweet and kind and you have an amazing talent but you’re so laid back and grounded and—”

“And you are all of those things too,” Luka laughed. “Except maybe the laid back part.” He grinned, and Marinette made a face at him. “You kinda maybe worry too—”

Marinette had taken two large steps toward him. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled. Luka staggered, grabbing on to her shoulders as she dragged him down and kissed him. 

He made a very undignified noise even as his arms were coming down to wrap around her. Marinette couldn’t hold the kiss very long; she hadn’t taken a good breath and her nose was smashed against his cheek, so she was forced to break it before Luka really even had a chance to respond. 

Luka sucked in a breath, blinking at her. “Are you sure?” he blurted, and then looked like he wanted to kick himself. Marinette had to giggle, giddy with elation and adrenaline, her heart fluttering wildly in her chest. 

“No,” she told him when she was able, and a little shiver of fear went up her spine before she stomped it down again. “But I’ve never met anybody like you and...anyway, you’re right. It’s stupid to be tearing myself up over it when I could just be kissing you instead.” 

“Very logical,” he laughed, and Marinette kicked his shin lightly.

“Take off this ridiculous jacket,” she told him, tugging. “I can’t take you seriously in this thing.” 

“I don’t know, I’m suddenly a lot fonder of it than I was a moment ago,” Luka grinned, putting his hands over hers on the lapels. His tone was teasing, but his thumbs caressed the backs of her hands, and there was a light in his eyes that had her heart galloping all over again. 

She slipped her hands away, and Luka fumbled at the hem until he found the switch, turned the lights off, and shrugged the jacket off, dropping it carelessly on the trunk beside them before reaching for her again.

They were still wrapped up in each other when Rose popped her head in the attic looking for them, and rattled the windows with her scream.

Fiction Master Post | Month of Miracles

[krisdreaming]

PART 3 | A PREDICAMENT

｢ Masterlist ｣

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x gn!reader

Summary: Somehow, you ended up agreeing to bring your non-existent boyfriend to the family Christmas gathering at your grandparents’. Your chem lab partner and fast friend, Kuroo Tetsurou, agrees to play the part. Your developing feelings for him won’t cause any problems, right?

WC: 2.6k

A/N: I won’t be posting for this fic next Saturday, so the next part (part 4) will post on December 26!

A smol guide to reader’s cousins (all ocs who aren’t really developed at all aside from their names which I stole from other anime hkdljf), listed from oldest to youngest, though I don’t really have exact ages in mind:

Mikoto Kyoka <Reader is here in my head> Setsuna (Mikoto’s younger sister) Takashi (the twins older brother) twins - tbh i didn’t name them bc they’re the youngest and not really relevant lmao i’ll probably just refer to them as “the twins” (they’re boys btw)

Basically I needed to name them bc it was getting confusing... sorry if it’s weird!

The entire drive to your grandparents’ house, you find your eyes drifting to your rear view mirror and Kuroo’s headlights reflected in it. You’d left school in the late afternoon, and by now the sun has begun to sink below the horizon and dusk is beginning to fall. You have fond memories of arriving at their house for Christmas after darkness has fallen, seeing the warm glow of the lights in their windows drawing closer and being ushered inside from the cold winter darkness to their bright, sweet-smelling home.

This year is a little different - Kuroo will be with you, experiencing those familiar sights and sounds and smells for the first time. Your gut is absolutely twisting, and you grip the steering wheel a little tighter. Now is not the time to have second thoughts or wonder if it’s too late to call the whole thing off. For now, your focus has to be on making sure your family believes Kuroo is actually your boyfriend. If you seem happy, they’ll be happy. You glance once more in your rear view mirror. Convincing them of that may not be as difficult as you think.

By the time you pull into the driveway, you’ve managed to push most of the doubts from your mind. The cold air that hits your face as you step out of your warm car is a welcome distraction, and you fill your lungs with it. Next to you, Kuroo’s car door opens and he steps out, reaching into the backseat for his duffle bag.

“Here we are!” You chirp, spreading your arms in a flourish as he closes the car door. He looks at the house, then turns to smile at you.

“Looks really nice,” He nods as you pop the trunk, reaching for your suitcase. “Let me get it,” He reaches around you and grabs it. You’re startled for a few moments, but all it takes is a quirk of his eyebrow for everything to fall into place. It would be weird if you didn’t let your boyfriend carry your bag for you.

“If one of us is going to blow this, it’s going to be me,” You breathe with a nervous chuckle, and he shakes his head.

“Won’t let that happen,” He assures you, gesturing for you to lead the way. He follows you up the walk, and the moment you reach for the door knob, it swings open on its own. Behind it, your grandmother is waiting to greet you, hands clasped in front of herself with a giant smile on her face. For a split second, you almost feel guilty that none of this is real.

“Merry Christmas!” She pulls you into a tight hug, and you breathe in the familiar scents of rose and sugar cookies. “Come in, come in.” She releases you and is immediately locked on Kuroo, who has a sheepish smile on his face.

“Oh my,” She looks up at him with the huge grin still on her face, “Aren’t you quite the handsome young man! Just look at how tall he is!” Behind her, your parents appear as she’s gathering him into a hug. You try to hold in a snicker as he drops the bags beside him, folding himself awkwardly to return the hug.

“Thank you for having me, ma’am,” He says as he’s released from her grip, prompting a pleased hum.

“Grandma,” You finally break in to say, “Mom and Dad,” You turn to your parents who are both eyeing Kuroo curiously. Your father, especially, seems to be sizing him up. “This is Kuroo Tetsurou,” He lifts his hand in greeting, “My boyfriend,”  You add, feeling your cheeks grow hot at saying the words out loud. Your mother meets your gaze with a small smile.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Your father reaches out and catches Kuroo’s hand in a firm handshake.

“It’s great to meet you too, sir.” Your father must approve of the handshake, because he gives Kuroo a nod and a smile. “And it’s nice to meet you, L/N-san,” He reaches for your mother’s hand next. Your grandmother wraps her arm around your middle and squeezes you into her side.

“Oh, what a polite young man,” She whispers in your ear loudly enough for the others to hear, “It looks like you’ve found a good one.”

You watch Kuroo greet your grandfather who’s finally wandered into the room. “I think so,” You agree, sharing a smile with your grandmother. It comes out more easily than you expect.

“Alright,” She brings her hands together in front of her, interrupting the chatter. “Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes, so let me show these two to their room so they can get rid of their bags.” She waves you and Kuroo along, and you follow her up the stairs.

Every year, you stay in your mom’s old room. You’ve always loved envisioning your mother spending time there when she was a little girl. This year, an added bonus of the room is the extra futon that’s always folded up in the corner. When your grandmother opens the door, your eyes immediately go to that corner and find it empty. A quick glance around the room reveals that the futon is nowhere to be seen.

“I got it all ready for you,” Your grandma says brusquely, bustling inside and fluffing the pillows on the bed as she talks, “I think you two will be very cozy in here.”

“Where’s the futon?” You blurt out, and she chuckles with a wave of her hand.

“I had to put it in the basement. Now that the twins are older, they won’t share one anymore. Not to worry,” She pats your shoulder, “I know you’re all grown up now. Is everything alright for you two?” She looks expectantly between the two of you, and you swallow back your panic before pasting on a smile. A glance at Kuroo reveals that he’s remarkably unphased, at least outwardly. It sets you just a bit more at ease. You’ll figure this out.

“Looks great, Grandma. Thanks.” You let your bag drop to the floor, and she takes it as her cue to leave.

“Dinner is ready any minute, so get your things situated and come down,” She says over her shoulder as she heads out of the room, pulling the door against the latch behind her. You look over to Kuroo, who’s glancing around the room.

“I swear there’s usually a futon in here,” You say quickly, and he shrugs.

“I’ll sleep on the floor. I don’t mind.” You open your mouth, then close it, because you aren’t quite sure what to say. “I’m used to it,” He assures you. You aren’t quite convinced, but you don’t know how to refuse without making whatever this is even weirder.

You finally decide on, “We’ll figure something out at bedtime,” and reach for the door. “Ready to eat?”

“Since we left school,” He laughs, following you out of the room and down the stairs. “Bring it on.”

The meal is nothing too fancy. On the first evening, when everyone is still arriving and getting settled in, there’s normally just a spread of quick bites and snacks. When your plates are filled, you find seats at the table set up for all of your cousins. They aren’t shy about introducing themselves to Kuroo, and it shouldn’t surprise you how easily he slips into conversation with them. You’re all talking and laughing in no time, and it feels almost natural.

“Say Y/N, how did you manage to land someone like him, anyway?” Your oldest cousin Mikoto laughs from beside you with a jab of his elbow in your ribs. You rub at the spot and stick your tongue out at him, buying time while his girlfriend reprimands him.

“Would you believe he’s my Chem lab partner?” You jab him back with a smirk.

He snorts, “I find it hard to believe you wowed him with your brains.” That earns a burst of laughter from the group. “Was there bribery involved?”

“Actually, I think it was probably my brains,” Kuroo says smugly, his chin hovering over your shoulder. You resist the urge to smack the grin off his face and settle for swatting his arm. “I’m pretty much carrying this one’s grade, y’know,” He jerks his thumb in your direction.

“Please,” You roll your eyes, falling easily into the banter with him, “One look at our last test scores will tell you it’s the other way around.” He shrugs.

“I’ll let you think whatever you want,” He says primly, lifting a chip to his mouth as he dodges a second swat. This, at least, feels very familiar. As the laughter around you dies down, the conversation shifts again, and you’re content to sit and soak in the chatter.

When the meal is over, the cousins all migrate to the living room. Every year for as long as you can remember, on your first night together for Christmas, you’ve watched Elf. It’s one of your favorite traditions.

“Where’s the DVD?”

“I think Grandpa hid the remote again.”

“I know we literally just ate but could anyone else eat popcorn?”

It’s a little loud and a little disorganized, but you’re happy just to be here with them again. Every year the group grows a little bigger with significant others added to the mix, and this year Kuroo is the only new face. You lean in close to him and murmur, “Doing alright?” He’s been quiet, just taking everything in.

“Yeah, great,” He replies in a low voice, offering you a lopsided smile. “I don’t think I can remember anyone’s names though.”

“You’ll get there,” You assure him, giving his shoulder a pat.

“Lights! Someone turn out the lights!” There’s a scramble, and soon the only light in the room is the glow of the tree and the flickering TV screen.

“Psst! Y/N, sit down!” Someone hisses. You roll your eyes and plop down in front of the couch, leaning back against it. Setsuna nudges your shoulder with her foot, then grins at you when you turn to stick out your tongue at her. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see her brother and his girlfriend tucked into the corner of the couch. She’s pressed in against his side, and he has his arm around her. Kyoka and her girlfriend are squished almost comically onto the recliner, but they don’t seem to mind the tangle of legs.

Suddenly, you’re all too aware of Kuroo next to you. His arm is pressed against yours, and you try not to sit too stiffly. No one seems to be paying much attention to you as the movie begins, but you still can’t help but wonder if this is convincing anyone.

As if he’d read your mind, you feel Kuroo’s hand inch closer to yours. With a glance your way, he loops his fingers loosely over yours, slipping his pinkie alongside yours in a gesture similar to his pinkie promise last week. You lean in just a little closer.

As the movie plays, you feel the busyness of the day catching up to you. The familiar scenes on screen are lulling you into a drowsy state of half-sleep, and you hardly think about it before you let your head come to rest on his shoulder. He stills for a few moments, but then he rests his cheek on top of your head. You don’t move until the credits start rolling and everyone around you starts to stir.

“Aww,” You hear someone coo behind you as your cousins slowly start to stand up and disperse. When the lights turn on, you sit up straight and squint into the sudden brightness, blinking blearily at Kuroo who winks at you so quickly you think you might have imagined it. He stands to his feet with a groan and extends his hand, grabbing yours and pulling you to your feet.

Around you, there’s a chorus of good-nights as everyone heads off to get ready for bed. You turn to Kuroo and brace yourself for what’s coming. “You ready for bed?” Even as you ask, he’s stifling a yawn behind his fingers.

“Yeah,” He nods with a chuckle, “That movie really conked me out. Didn’t realize I was so tired.” He follows you up the stairs, and the two of you gather your things for bed in silence. By the time you’ve taken turns using the bathroom down the hall, he has a makeshift bed made up on the floor. He has comforters and pillows piled up, but you still can’t help but think how uncomfortable it looks.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay? I can see if there’s an air mattress or something.” You would feel awful if you didn’t at least offer.

“How suspicious would that be?” He laughs. “I told you, I’m fine. I used to sleep on the floor at Kenma’s all the time. It’s no big deal.”

“Alright,” You say slowly, crawling under the covers. Up until now, things have felt fairly normal, but something about seeing him lying there on the floor next to you reminds you how strange this whole situation really is. “Regret this yet?” You ask softly, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can see his expression.

“Nah,” He says with a wave of his hand. “I’m having a good time. Honestly. Your cousins are a riot.” You shake your head with a smile, but you can’t deny it. “I’m actually thinking of offering this as a service,” You feel your smile falter as a strange twinge fills your middle. You know it’s just another one of his jokes, but something about it makes you prickle. “Don’t worry, yours is the trial, so there’s no charge.”

You laugh to appease him more than anything. “Sounds like an easy way to earn some cash,” You say lightly, hoping he can’t sense anything off about you. “Ready to turn the light off?”

“Yup,” He nods, and you reach over to flick the lamp off. “Night.”

You echo him, then turn onto your back, staring up at the ceiling with the few leftover glow-in-the-dark stars that haven’t peeled off. You really had been sleepy during the movie, but now that you’re in bed, you feel wide awake. You can’t help but mull over Kuroo’s comment. Sometimes he’s impossible to read. You know this is more than just a joke to him – he’s proven that much already. He’s a good friend, and that’s not something you want to lose over something like this. With a sigh, you turn on your side.

“Hey, Kuroo,” You whisper, “You asleep?”

“Yes,” His teasing response is immediate.

“You can’t tell me that you’re comfortable down there,” You say softly. “So just come lay in the bed.”

He’s silent for so long that you start to wonder if he really is asleep. Just when you’re about to roll over, he speaks up again. “Are you sure?”

“Of course, dummy.” You say, huffing out a soft chuckle. You hear him gather up his pillows and blanket and make his way around the bed. You can feel it dip beside you, but he’s careful to leave nearly a foot of space between you.

“Thanks,” He hums under his breath. You don’t reply, but you smile into the darkness. Even though you aren’t touching, you can just feel his warmth next to you. It isn’t long before your eyes slide shut.

[venicebitch1999]

Late Night Confessions

Pairing: Fezco/Reader

Summary: You and Fezco spend some time stargazing. Who will make the first move?

Warnings: Profanity, mentions of underage drinking and drug dealing.

A/N: Hey, y’all! This is my first writing I’ve actually posted, so bear with me. I love Fezco so much, he’s my fucking cinnamon apple and deserves more writings. Let me know what y’all think though! Feedback is always appreciated. ❤️ Much love.

You were currently driving out to your favorite weekend spot, the cliff about three miles out of town that overlooked the city. You and your best friend, Fezco, had made plans to meet up and stargaze. Every once in a while, when you two needed an escape, you would go to your favorite spot and observe the night sky. It wasn’t often that you did this, but you never passed the opportunity up. You loved these little moments with him.

Fezco had been in your life for close to seven years. You had met him the first day of seventh grade, and although people came and went throughout your school years, Fezco stayed by your side. Fezco, eventually, dropped out to help take care of his grandma. When money became tight, he started drug dealing. He thought this would scare you away for sure, but no. Best friends stuck together no matter what.

Eventually, you grew to love him, beyond just friends. He was charismatic, polite, soft-spoken, and protective. He would take a bullet for you. Because you didn’t want to risk your friendship, you kept those feelings to yourself. He had enough on his plate already.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sight of Fezco’s car parked near the cliff’s edge. You were so in love, even the sight of his car had you feeling giddy. You parked your car next to his and unbuckled your seatbelt. You knew he was already waiting for you at your usual spot, a grassy area farthest away from the road. You both thought this area was the best place to see the nighttime skies, as no trees or dirt were present.

You walked towards your spot and saw that he was already laying down on the blanket, looking upwards. You could hardly make out his figure, but you knew he looked just as good as ever. Hearing your footsteps approach, he turned to look at you. You smiled at him, placing your backpack with the radio you both used to play your tunes down, and greeted him with a shy “Hey, Fez.”

He moved over, giving you some room on the blanket to get comfortable and replied “What’s up, Y/N?”

Yep, you were right. He did look good. He was dressed in a simple long sleeved black shirt, gray sweatpants, and his favorite duo, socks and slides. How the hell did someone manage to look so fucking amazing in something so plain? You had no idea, but he did it with ease.

Fezco thought you looked amazing too. Your attire consisted of a cropped red sweatshirt, black leggings, and black high top converse. He couldn’t help but stare at you. You always looked beautiful.

Fez had had a crush on you for as long as he could remember. Before he had even officially met you, he’d seen you at school and thought you were one of the prettiest girls on the planet. The day he mustered up the courage to talk to you was the best day of his life, because that was the start of your friendship. Over the years, Fez watched you grow up. He was there when your first boyfriend broke your heart at winter formal sophomore year, even threatening to beat his ass afterwards. He was there when your parents separated. He was there when you graduated high school. He was there when you dropped out of college to help take care of your younger siblings after your dad’s alcoholism reached its peak. He was there for it all. Your friendship meant everything to him, so he never told you about his true feelings. He couldn’t lose you.

“Oh, you know, just getting ready to hang out with some loser.” you answered, with a wink.

He laughed sarcastically, “Ha ha ha, you think you cute or something, huh?” he said while he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, or something.” you sassed, pulling your speakers out of your backpack and connecting your phone to it before turning it on shuffle and laying down. The sounds of “Ribs” by Lorde started playing.

“No lie, I fuck with this kinda music.” Fezco admitted.

You smiled and looked up at the trillions of tiny, twinkling stars. “Yeah, I know. You haven’t complained once about my music.”

“It’s nice to hear new shit. I like all kinds of music, like that one chick. Uh, I think her name is Lana? Ion know, but she kinda fire.” he commented.

You gave him a little side-eye. “Del Rey?” you asked causing him to look at you.

“Oh yeah! Her. Yeah, she got some hits. Some of her shit got me sad as hell.” he said.

You laughed loudly, “More like all her shit.”

Fezco smiled and you both fell into a comfortable silence. Gazing up at the thousands of twinkling stars, you let your mind wander. You thought about your relationship with Fezco. Did it have the potential to be anything more? You wondered what it felt like to kiss him, to have his hands on your thighs, to feel his arm around your waist. You wondered what it felt like to be called his.

“So.. Rue told me something today.” Fezco said nervously, still looking upwards.

You quirked your eyebrow up, and looked at him. “What’s she gossiping about now?” you asked with a joking twinkle in your eye.

“Ion know if it’s true or what. She said she overheard it at last night’s party or some shit.” he claimed.

Fuck. Last night’s party was a trip, you hardly remembered it. “Spit it out, dude.” you pressed.

“Ight. Well, she said you was fucking around with Cameron Gates. She said someone saw y’all making out? Ion know, that’s just what she heard.” he finally said.

Your eyes widened. “Fuck, I was so drunk last night. I don’t even remember that. I mean, Cameron always tries to get with me at parties and shit, so I wouldn’t be surprised.” you admitted, feeling embarrassed.

“Cameron is a dick. I didn’t wanna believe it, but I mean, you do you.” he said icily. He could feel the jealousy creeping in. He didn’t like knowing other guys were into you.

You looked at him, a little confused at his tone. “Uh, okay? I mean, I’m not into him like that. I was just wasted. Besides, I’m 20. I’m allowed to make out with people if I want to,” you snipped. “I’m not even into guys like him anyways.”

Fezco snorted. “Whatever you say.” he said sarcastically.

“The fuck? We were just having a good time. What’s with you?” you asked him with a glare.

“I mean, you’ve only ever dated guys like him, so Ion know why you lying.” he pointed out.

Yeah, Fez was right. You dated a lot of guys that ended up being really shitty boyfriends who only wanted one thing. In your defense, the one guy that you did want to date had friendzoned you, so you had limited options.

“Yeah, well if I could date who I wanted to, I would’ve never dated those guys.” you said while sitting up. You didn’t like this conversation, you felt defensive.

Fezco followed your actions and looked at you. You looked angry, embarrassed, and hurt by what he said. He instantly felt bad for making you upset. You were right, you were having a good time. He just wanted to confirm what he’d heard. It was selfish, but he was bothered by it.

“I’m sorry, ma. I just don’t fuck with that Cameron guy. He only wants to fuck you and dip. You deserve more than that shit.” he said softly as he grabbed your hand and observed the rings on your fingers.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach. “Oh yeah? And what is it that I deserve?” you asked, with a little smile playing on your lips.

Fezco’s eyes met yours and he placed a tiny kiss on your ring finger. “You deserve everything good in life, Y/N. All the shit you’ve ever dreamed of having, you deserve it. You too good for all these dumbass guys around here.” he declared.

You looked at him and gave him a shy smile. You felt lost for words. Nobody had ever told you that before.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Fez letting go of your hand to trace the small tattoo on your exposed waist. “Can I ask you something?” he inquired.

You hated when people asked that question. Your anxiety heightened immediately. “Um, yeah. Go ahead.” you answered.

“You said you wanted to date someone earlier. Who was you talking about?”

Fuck. Should you tell him? It was always hard to lie to Fez. He knew immediately when you were bluffing. Lying would be obvious, no matter how hard you tried to mask it.

You stumbled over your words, trying to come up with a vague answer. “Um, I mean- Well, I-.. He’s uh- Fuck, I can’t talk right now.”

Fezco raised an eyebrow at you. “You about to lie,” he chided. “Lying ain’t ever get you anywhere with me, mamas. Might as well tell me the truth. I ain’t gonna tell nobody. You and Rue the only people I fuck with.”

You sighed loudly. “Okay. Fine. I’ll be honest, but like you gotta promise this won’t be weird, alright? You’re my best friend. I don’t want us to be awkward.”

He looked at your serious expression and nodded. “Ight, swear on my life.” Fezco was feeling nervous now. Why were you so serious?

You hesitated before speaking. “Um, okay. Uh. Well, the guy I like may or may not be you.” you finally managed to say.

Your face was beet red and your palms were sweaty. You watched as he looked into your eyes for any signs of a joke. He thought for sure this was a prank. There was no way you felt that way about him.

“Like deadass?” he asked, feeling nervous.

“Deadass.” you replied simply.

Wow, he never thought you’d felt that way about him before. He was for sure his love would always be unrequited.

“But it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I love our friendship. We can pretend this never happened.” you stated, feeling a little defeated by his silence.

He laughed. “Y/N, what the fuck? I been having a crush on you. Like ever since you walked onto the fucking playground that day at school and punched Nate Jacobs’ brother in the face for trying to kiss you.”

You were shocked. Holy shit. Fezco felt the same way? No fucking way. All these years, and neither one of you said a thing. How could you have been so clueless to one another?

“Oh my god. We seriously been having secret feelings for each other all these years? What kinda soap opera shit?” you laughed.

Fez laughed with you before taking your hand and kissing the palm. “Come’ere, ma. I wanna give you a kiss. I been waiting like ten years for this.” he admitted.

You moved closer to him and let him grab hold of your waist. You put your arms around his neck and looked him in the eyes. “Then kiss me.” you said.

He moved his head downwards and locked lips with yours. The fireworks that people claim to feel in movies? Yeah, that feeling is real. You had never been kissed with such passion and love before, and you definitely didn’t mind it. His hands moved to your lower back as he pulled you closer. He moved his lips from yours down to your neck, where he placed a chaste kiss to the spot behind your ear, before looking into your eyes with a smirk.

“How about we make this official, huh?” he said.

You laid back down, pulling him over your body. “Okay then, boyfriend.” you winked.

He leaned down to give you another kiss. “I like the sound of that, mamas.”

[floralguccistyles]

nine: aliens, bigfoot, and nerds, oh my!

“Have you been eating, sweetheart? You’ve lost at least ten pounds since the last time I’ve seen you.”

My father rolled his eyes from over my mother’s shoulder as she pulled me into a big hug. Every time I saw my mother, she mentioned how skinny I was getting even though I was sure I had gained about five pounds since the last time I’d seen her. It was usually an excuse to come into my flat and make us a giant dinner, which I would never complain about. Her arms squeezed my shoulders as she released me, pulling back so she could look at my face.

“Pretty as ever, sweetheart.” 

“Eva, can I please hug our daughter hello now?”

I laughed as my mother made a big deal of moving out of the way so my father could hug me. His embrace was familiar, his arms the ones I ran to when the bullying in secondary school got too bad to handle on my own. He had wiped my tears away and said “you’re one of a kind, mija, and they’re jealous of that.” 

“Was the drive okay?” I asked them, pulling away from my father after he planted a quick kiss on my hairline. Their suitcases (the ones they had owned when they came to England) were decorated with vibrant stickers from Cuba. They were worn now, scratched at the corners, but their color had miraculously remained. 

“It was wonderful. It’s been so long since we’ve been to London, and now look at us! We’re here to celebrate our daughter’s book!”

Inviting them to the book release party had been a last minute decision, but I found myself happy that I had. Though I knew they were proud of me, I also knew that they didn’t really understand a lot of the fandom stuff I had discussed in several chapters. They would read it to support me, of that I was sure, but I was uncertain about if they’d actually enjoy it. 

“You probably won’t understand a lot of it, Mum.”

“You don’t know that. Your father and I have been watching that Doctor show...what’s it called, Roberto?”

“I don’t know, Eva. I fall asleep when it’s on.”

“It’s called Doctor Who, Mum,” I snorted out, biting back a bigger laugh. 

“Whatever it’s called, we’ve been watching it. And we were alive when Star Wars came out, you know. I was there for the Darth Vader reveal and everything. Mamá took me to the theater and got me an extra large popcorn.”

I liked hearing little stories like that. It was almost too easy to picture my mum, sitting there in a little theater in Cuba when the true identity of Darth Vader was revealed. My grandmother had probably grasped her chest with her hand and shouted “¡Dios mío!” at the top of her lungs. If I eventually travelled to Cuba, if the movie theater was still there, I decided I would visit it.

The three of us piled into the Uber I had called for us, which wasn’t hard because their suitcases were so small. On the way to my flat, my parents regaled stories about their drive to London and how she was upset my dad wouldn’t let her listen to Dua Lipa on the radio because “that Dua Lipa girl was very talented, Petra.” We made it back to my flat with only three arguments broken out between them.

“You guys are staying in my room and I’m camping out on the couch,” I informed them, helping my mum to carry her suitcase in. “Sorry it’s so cramped. It’s perfect for me, but unfortunately having guests is a little difficult.”

“We could have stayed in a hotel, baby,” My father commented.

“I’m not going to make my parents pay for a hotel room. I can sleep on the couch for one night and survive, Dad.” They had been to my flat before, but I still showed them where the extra towels and soap was in the bathroom. “The party’s at seven tonight, and dinner will be served. I’ve got to go a little earlier, but I’m just a text away if you need anything.”

“My baby,” my mum said, her eyes glistening, “we are so proud of you!”

I found myself enveloped in another tight hug, this time joined by my father. The lump in my throat grew when I thought of their praise. Too often, I had taken their support for granted. “I love you both.”

“We love you, mija.”

A sudden knock on my door had us pulling apart. “Were you expecting anyone, baby?” my mum asked, going to the front foyer and looking out the foggy windows. “It’s a boy, Roberto!”

“What?” 

I moved around my frozen parents to answer the door, swinging it open and greeting Harry Styles’s smiling face with a blank look. I had no idea what Harry was doing here, but he really had very impeccable timing. 

And by impeccable, I meant shit. 

“Morning! I was thinking about grabbing something to eat at a little bistro around here and thought I’d come by and see what you were up to today. Wanna join?”

Speech wouldn’t come. I felt the stares of my parents behind me, still hidden from Harry’s view, and how they would squeal and gush when they found out I was on somewhat good terms with Harry Styles, something they’d been trying to get me to do for years. “Harry—”

“Harry?” My mum’s voice asked loudly from where she was standing. She marched up behind me and swung the door open a little wider so he could clearly see her. “Oh my goodness! Harry Styles! Petra, it’s Harry Styles!”

“I know who he is, Mum,” I whispered in an embarrassed voice.

“Last time I saw you, you were about four feet tall,” My mother cooed, stepping forward. Before Harry could react, she had him in a tight hug, wrapping her arms around his body. “Petra didn’t tell me you were friends again!”

I bit down the urge to argue that we were never friends, but my mother wouldn’t listen. She never had when it had come to my bullies at school. “Just give them a chance to change, Petra,” she had told me when I would bury my face in her shoulder and cry that I didn’t want to go to school.

“Hi, Mrs. Gallego. I didn’t know you guys were coming to town. Sorry for intruding on family day. I was just coming down to this part of town to grab some lunch and wanted to see if Petra could come. No worries, though. I don’t want to take away—”

“Nonsense!” My father cut in, reaching out his hand for Harry to shake. “Nice to see you again, Harry. Feel free to take Petra to lunch. We’re probably going to nap a little before her release party tonight. The drive was long.”

“Release party?” Harry asked, glancing back and forth between my parents and me.

I awkwardly scratched the side of my head. “My, er, book is being released tonight.” 

“What? Petra, that’s amazing!” His smile seemed genuine enough, but all I wanted was to shut the door and rewind the last five minutes. I never would have answered the door in front of my parents if I had known it was going to be Harry on the other side. “If you, um, want to go...it can be a celebratory lunch. And obviously you all are invited, Mr. and Mrs. Gallego.”

“Oh, Harry, we’d love to come, wouldn’t we, Petra?”

My eyes moved between Harry’s cautiously hopeful face and my parents, who were already grabbing my mum’s purse and getting ready to leave. In their eyes, I had already agreed. “Sure,” I said uncomfortably. “That’s fine. Let me just call an Uber for us and we’ll follow behind you.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Petra. We can call an Uber and you can go with Harry.”

There was no arguing with Eva Gallego when she set her mind to something, so I just nodded. “Okay. Er...I guess that settles that.”

We awkwardly stood around in my foyer until my mum cleared her throat. “Petra, darling, aren’t you going to invite Harry in while we wait for our ride?”

“Right. Come on in, Harry.”

His gaze locked on mine, expression questioning. I knew he felt the tension that was creeping up inside me with having him in the same room as my parents, but I didn’t want to get into it. Not when I knew it would ruin my night. The morning had already started off with self-destructive behavior as I looked back at some of the tweets about my day out with Harry from February. I had never been as aware of my appearance as I was in that moment, scrolling through absolute strangers saying the worst things. I had an extra appointment with Doctor Thorne this week to make up for it.

“How long have you and Petra been hanging out again?” My mum asked as we all sat in my living room. 

“A couple of months. She contacted me in January about being on the show. It was an amazing experience.”

“I just love listening to Petra’s podcast,” my father said happily, reaching over and patting my knee. “I have no clue what she’s talking about half the time, but she sounds damn smart saying it.”

“She’s incredibly smart,” Harry agreed, and I ignored the urge to bang my head on the coffee table. I didn’t want him agreeing with my parents about my intelligence. We weren’t really that good of friends, if I even considered us friends yet. I had admitted to myself that Harry had definitely changed for the better, but that didn’t mean the past hurt went away.

“I almost forgot, mija! Your grandma sent you Materva. She said you wrote her an email about it.”

Normally, I would be jumping for joy. The first and only time my grandmother had visited from Cuba, she had brought Materva with her and it had become my favorite drink. With Harry here, however, I felt uncomfortable and self-conscious. I squirmed a little in my seat.

“That was nice of her. I’ll email her and tell her thank you. Want me to put it in the fridge?”

My father went off to my room to grab the Materva and Harry raised a quizzical eyebrow. “What is Moterva?”

“Materva,” my mum corrected with a smile. “It’s a soda.”

“And it’s delicious. Remind Petra to let you try some later,” my father said, returning with a set of six cans. “She sent us more, but we’re selfish and kept the rest of it at home for us.”

He stocked them in my fridge and pulled out his phone when he heard the small chime. “Our Uber is here. We’ll see you two at the restaurant.”

I made sure they made it into their car okay before I hesitantly pulled open the door of Harry’s. We both got ourselves situated, clicking our seatbelts into place. 

He didn’t start the car.

“I didn’t know your parents would be here,” he said, offering me an apologetic smile. “I could tell it...it made you uncomfortable.”

“I’m just not used to this.” I gestured back and forth between us with my hand. “And my parents...they mean well, but when I was in secondary school and coming home to them crying, they told me to try and make friends with you guys. They didn’t really understand how hard that would have been. They think I should let bygones be bygones and I want to...but I don’t know if I can just yet.”

“I completely understand.” He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “Can I ask you something a little personal?”

“I don’t know if I’ll answer.” Honesty seemed to be the best approach with Harry.

“Why do you seem so embarrassed when your Cuban heritage is mentioned around me? When your dad brought out the soda, it looks like you were going to stab yourself with a fork.”

Go back to where you came from, Gallego. Nathan Penrose’s voice filtered through my thoughts. To them, I wasn’t English enough for England. But it was almost worse to feel that I wasn’t Cuban enough for Cuba.

“It’s about what that prick Nathan said when we were younger, right?” he asked softly, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel remembering it. “I so wish I would have punched him in the face.”

“It’s not just Nathan. That’s a big part of it, but it’s not just you I feel uncomfortable talking about it with.”

“Okay. You don’t have to talk about it, but...just know you can, if you ever want to. I’m serious about trying to be friends, Petra.”

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, with some pop song playing lowly over the speakers. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, per se, but it made me wriggle around in my seat and wish I was sitting at the restaurant already. I wasn’t used to silences with Harry not trying to fill the space with his random thoughts. I appreciated that he was letting me just sit and absorb the moments, but it was also unnerving.

We pulled up to the little bistro right after my parents, who had already decided to get a table for us. Harry walked around to the other side of his car and opened the door for me, holding out his hand to help me out. My parents waved us over from their table outside, pulling out our chairs. I was seated between Harry and my mum, across from my father. It meant that I caught the sly looks they gave me whenever Harry was engrossed with his menu.

“What’s good here, Harry?” My mum asked after a couple moments of looking.

“I like their vegan buffalo wings and macaroni.”

“You’re vegan?” I asked in surprise, raising a brow at him.

“No, but I eat plant based meat when I can. And most places make their vegan wings with cauliflower, which hurts my stomach. This place makes them with mushrooms.”

“Petra loves mushrooms. You should try them, sweetheart.”

I set my menu down without really looking at it. “I’m getting a bagel and their cucumber and edamame salad.” Since both of my parents loved cucumbers, I knew I would be sharing at least a few bites with them. It was normal for us to sample each other’s meals. “What are you getting, Mum?”

“Maybe the chicken breast and mashed potato lunch special. Your father, predictable as ever, is getting a burger.”

My dad shrugged. “Don’t fix what isn’t broken.”

The waitress eyed Harry a little longer than necessary when she came to take our orders, but eventually left. I could tell he would be getting asked to take a picture before he left, despite how unprofessional that was. Then I thought about if it had been Hayden Christensen if I had been the waitress and understood what the fuss was about. 

“So, Harry,” my mum said after a long sip of her lemonade, which I knew meant she was going to ask a lot of questions, “what have you been doing now that you’re solo? I ran into your Mum when she was visiting home for a couple of weeks and she showed me one of your music videos. You’re very talented!”

I’d never seen Harry Styles blush, but I noticed a faint twinge of pink on his cheeks. “Thank you, Mrs. Gallego. I’m writing some more music right now, but I’m not sure when the next album will be out.”

“We just love listening to your first album. We listen to your group stuff too,” Mum commented, tapping her nails on her wrist. “Petra has a wonderful singing voice, did you know?”

Before Harry could question the statement, my father and I both snorted. “No, she doesn’t, Eva. No offense, mija.”

“None taken. I sound like a dying animal. Mum, I hate to tell you this, but the last time I sang, you were very intoxicated and would have thought our next door neighbor’s cat was Shakira.”

“Petra’s good at other things, though. She’s awesome on Alien Crossing. And I’m sure her book is going to be fantastic,” Harry supplied helpfully. 

“Has she invited you to the party tonight? I know her other friends are coming. Jeremiah, Veronica, and Melody?”

I shifted in my seat. Harry looked pained, like he didn’t want to say anything that would hurt my mum’s feelings. I hadn’t invited him to the book release party because this book was mine, something untainted by the memories of secondary school. Talking about my nerd stuff on AC was one thing, but publishing them on paper was another. “Mum…” I trailed off.

“He could come with us! Are you going to buy a copy of the book, Harry?” 

“Mum, he’s not going to buy—”

“Yeah, actually. I preordered it on my phone. And I was going to buy a hard copy, as well.”

Harry’s words had my mouth closing in surprise. I blinked over at him, at his secretive little smile when he raised his soda up to his lips and took a sip. “You preordered it?” I whispered, my throat thick with some emotion I couldn’t identify. “You’re not gonna understand it all.”

“Well, I’ll understand the Lord of the Rings bits now. And anything unfamiliar I come across, I’ll just make a note to watch or read it.”

This action felt more significant than anything that had happened in our hesitant friendship thus far. Even though he had introduced me to John Williams and had brought me a plant, this was the thing that felt essential. I felt like the Grinch in that moment, my heart growing a size bigger and allowing room for hesitant optimism to sink in. Maybe Harry Styles and I actually could be friends. 

Which was why when my mum suggested him coming another time, I shyly looked over at him and said, “Of course you can come if you’d like. I’ll text you the details.”

~

My publisher had rented out the Aldgate Library at my college for the release.

It felt weird stepping back into the library, stumbling a little in my black heels when I accidentally grazed a rock on the sidewalk right outside. The last time I had been here, I had my hair in a messy ponytail and was in tears at midnight trying to study for my last finals of my university career. Now, I was publishing a book. It felt surreal.

I smoothed down the skirt of my red dress, trying my best not to chew on my lip. Veronica had meticulously spread some kind of red lip stain on it that was supposed to be long lasting, but I didn’t trust it’s longevity against my teeth nervously biting at it. Plus, I knew pictures would be taken tonight and the last thing I needed was to have lipstick on my teeth. 

“Petra!” My publisher said, walking out of Aldgate in a tailored suit. She was also wearing a little badge that had “Aimee Metcalfe, Dorrance Publishing” printed right underneath a fantastic photo of her. I found myself jealous. My ID photos never came out that great. “What’re you doing standing outside? Come in, you numpty!”

I gave Aimee a quick salute and followed her inside, trying to keep up with her. As familiar as she was walking in heels, it was a new skill set to me entirely. She led me through the front of Aldgate and back into one of the large common area study rooms, which had been transformed for the launch. There was a giant banner hung up on the far left side, with #Aliens #Bigfoot #Nerds printed over it in sparkling letters. In front of the banner was a table decorated with cupcakes and cake pops, each the same color blue as my book cover, which featured a picture of myself that I hated but Aimee had insisted the readers would love. Jeremiah and Zach were shoving their faces with one of the cake pops, while Veronica looked on in disgust. Bailey was chatting with Melody by the photo booth that Aimee had suggested, which when printed, would frame the pictures in the same hashtags the banner provided.

My parents were crying in the corner of the room.

I went to them first, holding out my arms. My mum immediately let out a wail, pulling me into an embrace. “This is supposed to be a happy day, Mum.”

“Oh, I’m so happy for you, sweetheart. You have worked so hard. And you look beautiful.” She pulled back to examine my dress and makeup, pressing her hand to her mouth when she did. “Such a beautiful young woman, inside and out. Oh, how did we get so lucky, Roberto?”

My dad smiled at me. “Proud doesn’t even cover it, mija. Your mum has demanded she be first in the book signing line.”

“Oh, I did not, Roberto!”

“Petra,” Aimee said, interrupting our conversation. She introduced herself to my parents and then led me over to the podium. “You’re going to do the reading, and then Terri and I put together a fun little trivia game about some of the fandoms in the book. Whoever wins that will get a free signed copy. Afterwards, you’re on book signing duty. We’ve got about twelve hundred Sharpies lined up for you. Questions?”

My head was spinning with all the information, but I found myself growing excited. This was something I had put blood, sweat, and tears into. And I was finally getting to share it with the people who meant the most to me. “None so far. I’ll flag you down if any come up.”

“Good. Oh,” she said, reaching into her bag, “keep this close. This is your best friend when you’re up there reading and when you’re signing books.”

She handed me a water bottle with room temperature water, which was apparently better for the vocal cords. Then she was pushing me towards the podium and I hid the water bottle on the hidden shelf on my side. My book was sitting there, my own face staring back at me.

When I looked into the sea of people, I saw my friends giving me encouraging looks and my parents crying happily, my mother now with a tissue from the dessert bar that she pressed underneath her eyes every five seconds. The rest of the people in the room were people who were avid listeners of AC, the ones who sent in messages for me to read. I noticed Daisy Callahan sitting at one of the tables, shooting looks over to Jeremiah and smiling like a smitten school girl. I made a mental note to ask Jeremiah if they were officially together after the reading.

And then, there was Harry Styles.

It looked like he had just come in, dressed in a nice suit in a dark red color. I was so used to seeing him in bright neons when he was dressed up that the muted burgundy almost faded into the background. However, he was still Harry Styles and it was hard for Harry to do anything but stand out. He was fidgeting with his suit jacket, messing around with the collar of it before he looked up and caught my eye.

I wondered what he saw, looking at me standing up on the podium. I knew what my friends and family saw; they saw me finally getting one of my big wishes to come true. But what did Harry Styles, who already got his dream, see? 

I didn’t have time to think about it, because Aimee was gesturing for me to start the reading. She was helping usher people to their seats, and I felt the weight of more than just Harry’s eyes on me.

“Good evening everyone,” I said into the small microphone attached in front of me. “Thank you all for coming. This is the culmination of blood, sweat, tears, and other bodily substances I won’t mention. I can’t wait to share it with you. This reading comes from chapter seven, in which I discuss why Game of Thrones actually became so popular and how I think the last season is going to go, amongst other things.”

Jeremiah let out an embarrassing whooping sound and I rolled my eyes. 

Then, I read.

If I had expected to be embarrassed standing there in front of a crowd, reading the words I had written, I was wrong. Instead of feeling down, like I had so many times before when I discussed the things I loved, I felt powerful. Because yeah, Nathan Penrose could be a racist asshole all he wanted, and his friends could drop all my books in the puddle. But I had done it. I had written my book, I had a kickass podcast that introduced me to my best friends, and I was filled with an uncharacteristic pride.

So I went along with it. It’s what Doctor Thorne would have wanted. But more importantly, it was what I wanted.

Aimee had been a lifesaver with the water, as I found myself finishing up my excerpt and drinking nearly all of it during the applause. “Thank you,” I said after I had capped the bottle and set it back where I had it hidden. “Thank you to Aimee Metcalfe, my knight in shining armor through this process. Thank you to Terri Patterson, who spent night and day editing. Thank you to everyone at Dorrance Publishing who put up with trying to get copyright issues taken care of because I wrote about some of the biggest money shark companies in here,” I paused for the light laughter that trickled through the room. “But most importantly, thank you to my friends and family and everyone who supported me through this. It means the world. I hope you enjoy the rest of the book.”

There was a small table with stacks and stacks of my book. I didn’t think I’d ever seen that many pictures of me in one place before, including my parents’ house. Aimee started up the trivia game, and I heard the first question asked about what the aliens that destroyed New York in the first Avengers movie was called while I took my seat at the table.

“The book is awesome.” I heard from my left. I turned, seeing Harry standing beside the table, leaning against a pillar. “I could tell you love it when you were reading.”

“It’s a little overwhelming to see it all finished,” I said, awkwardly gesturing to the pile of books in front of me. 

“Would you ever want to write fiction?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. For now, no. I might change my mind later.” He nodded, fixing his suit jacket again like he had been earlier. “I didn’t expect you to come,” I said after a few moments.

His eyes crinkled and his head tilted to the side, like he was confused. “Why? You invited me and this is important to you. I wouldn’t miss it.”

“It wasn’t hard...with the paps or anything?”

His jaw set and told me everything I needed to know. “I’ve got someone on security here tonight, just in case. I’m not gonna let anything ruin your big night, including paps. There was someone who recognized my car, but I don’t think anyone else is coming.” He unclenched his jaw and looked down at me. A softer look took over his face. “You look gorgeous. That color reminds me of the dress you wore to prom.”

I blinked. “You didn’t talk to me at prom.”

In fact, I had spent most of prom standing in the corner, nursing the lemonade I had gotten myself. Nathan Penrose had spiked it, but not before I had gotten myself a cup. I had saved up all my money for the pretty red spaghetti strap dress, but looking back it was a useless purchase. I didn’t have fun and was home drinking tea and watching Legally Blonde by midnight.

Harry gave me a small smile. “No, but I saw you. I remembered thinking you looked so beautiful and how I was an idiot for how I’d treated you.”

“You did not,” I argued, rolling my eyes at his statement. “You were thinking of your audition and what song you were going to sing. I wasn’t even a blip on your radar.”

He shrugged, bringing his own water up to his lips. “Think what you think. Doesn’t change the fact you looked gorgeous— then and now.”

I fiddled with one of the books in front of me. I didn’t know how to take his compliment. It was something I’d always been bad at, but especially when it came to Harry. Part of me wanted so badly to believe he was telling the truth; he had seen me at prom and thought I looked pretty and was looking at me now and seeing the same thing. The other part of me was hardened and cold, telling myself not to fall for it.

In the end I just decided to ignore his comment. If I didn’t acknowledge it, then I didn’t have to dissect my feelings on it.

“I’ve got to take off. I’m sorry I can’t stay long. I’m flying out to Los Angeles tonight for some meetings. But I wanted to be here.” He held up one of my books and set it in front of me. “Last time I asked, you said you wouldn’t sign it.”

“Wipe that cheeky grin off your face. Of course I’ll sign it.” He slipped a fifty pound note onto the table (more than double what he actually had to pay for the book) and opened up the title page.

The blank page stared at me. There were so many things I could write. Aimee advised me just to sign my name, but that felt too impersonal for Harry. Uncapping the pen, I held down the page with my other hand to keep it steady.

Live long and prosper, my young padawan.

Petra Gallego

He grinned when I handed it back to him. “I’m reading this on my flight to LA.”

“Might put you to sleep.”

“I don’t think it could,” he argued, tucking it under his arm. “Think I could...um...text you while I’m there?”

“I can’t control what you do or don’t do, Harry.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to give you the choice.”

The choice to talk to him. It was something I didn’t have in secondary school, but I realized a small part of me acknowledged that it was something I didn’t have now, either. There was something in me that wanted to see where this friendship with Harry went and if we could make it work.

“Yeah, Harry. You can text me when you’re in LA.”

Which was how I woke up the next morning, with a message reading: Made it to LA. Didn’t stop reading once. And despite what you may think, I didn’t fall asleep either.

~

A/N: Here is the next installment of AC! I hope you guys liked reading as much as I loved writing. I’m just so happy for Petra!

[animeyanderelover]

Mind doing prompt 41 for the same concept(the Queen’s granddaughter )from before with Charles Grey? Only if you feel like it! I hope life has been treating you well!

I love that idea❤️! Life has recently been a bit hard for me because I wrote and I’m still about to write some exams and have absolutely no motivation for them. I would recommend to read this so you can understand the backstory. By the way, I had way too much fun with this and it turned out incredibly long...

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, manipulation, sabotage, pregnancy slight NSFW

Prompt 41: “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll look cute with a swollen stomach carrying our child.”

You stared with hatred and disgust in your eyes on your hand, to be specific on your ring finger where a little object was placed that had ruined your life. A small ring, made out of silver and implanted with small blue diamonds. It was almost absurd how such a small ring could ruin someone’s entire life. You just wanted to throw it out the window and somehow get rid of it, but you knew that he would just order a new one. You also knew that you would get in troubles with your parents and grandmother if you would lose the wedding ring for the third time so you decided to not do it. It wouldn’t be from any use. Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a voice you had learned to despise more than anything else. “(y/n)! I’m home!” You clenched your fists tightly. How dare he to act like nothing had happened after all he had done?!?! He was a devil, a liar, a traitor, trash!!! He had ruined your entire life!!! The person you were talking about was no other than Charles Grey. Your husband and a long time ago your best friend. Where did it all go wrong?

Flashback:

“No!! There must be a misunderstanding! Ciel would never do something like this!!”, you cried out to your grandmother, the queen of England. She looked with pity in her eyes down at you and tried to tell you as gently as possible:”I know that it’s hard to believe child. But the evidences are too heavy and we have a couple of witnesses as well. There’s no denying it anymore.” “Then they’re all liars and the evidences are all fake. Ciel would never sink that low! He’s a cultivated, smart and loyal man and-“ “(y/n)! That’s enough, don’t scream at your grandmother like this!”, your father told you in a strict voice. “But-“, the warning glare of your mother made you shut up once again. Recently accusations had appeared that Ciel had been faking reports over the orders the queen had given him. Important facts had been left out of the reports and rumors had started spreading around that Ciel had been involved in some dark business and had used questionable ways of solving the tasks of your grandmother, using threats and violence against innocent people.

“(y/n)?”, your mother suddenly started speaking to you. You looked in her direction, already having a feeling about what she wanted to talk about. “Mother, father, please.”, you begged, feeling tears starting to swell up in your eyes. “No daughter. Don’t even try it. We were already pretty shocked when we found out that you tried to break off the engagement between Ciel and Elizabeth Midford. Do you even know how disgraceful that is? The Midford’s are good friends of us and you knew that. There’s some tension between them and us now because of your unprofessional acting. You have as the granddaughter of the queen a reputation to hold and still decided to trail behind this man like a lovesick puppy? I’m deeply ashamed of you.” You looked at your feet, feeling a pang in your heart because of your mother’s harsh words. Your grandmother didn’t say anything what told you that she silently agreed to what her daughter-in-law had just said. “(y/n)! You’re forbidden to see that boy ever again. Your behavior is unacceptable and we also don’t want other people to hear that you spend your time with a criminal.” You snapped your head in your father’s direction. “No! Please don’t do this! I love him, father! I love him! You can’t forbid me to see Ciel!” Your father gave you a cold look. “I can and I will. I already told the guards to not let you anywhere near the jail where he’s kept.” You turned to your grandmother, tears flowing down your eyes. “Grandma...” The desperation in your voice was clearly audible and a look of guilt crossed the queen’s face, but she shook her head. “That’s unfair!!” That was the last thing you yelled at them before you stormed out the throne room, crying rivers out of your eyes. “Ciel...”

A knock was heard on your door, but you ignored it. Most likely your parents or the queen again. Well then, you wouldn’t let them in. Not after they took the one man you loved the most away from you. It had been nearly two weeks since Ciel had gone to jail and you had tried everything you could think of to see him, but the guards were definitely good ones. They hadn’t given in when you had offered them money and they had also caught you when you had tried to break in. At least they hadn’t told your parents yet, but had threatened to tell them the next time you would try to. So you had decided to focus on something else, proving Ciel’s innocence. As the queen’s granddaughter it had been rather easy for you to get copies of all the files you needed and as soon as you read the first file you knew that it was bullshit. It was very good faked, but you knew Ciel better than anyone else. He would never do something like this. Why had the witnesses lied? Were they threatened or bribed? Whilst you were deep in your thoughts another knock was heard, this time accompanied by a familiar voice. “(y/n)? Are you in there? Please let me in.” You were surprised when you heard Charles voice, but felt also glad that he was here. It felt like Charles was the only person you could talk to.

You hurried to the door, unlocked it and opened it. You were met with his silver eyes which had a worried look in them. “You look terrible.”, was the first thing he said to you. You couldn’t help, but laugh a bit. “Is that the way to talk to the granddaughter of the queen?” Charles faked a shocked expression and answered with a teasing voice:”My deepest apologies, miss. I thought you wouldn’t mind if the guy you knew since your youngest ages.” He bowed to you and you laughed out loudly. “It’s alright. I can’t really blame you. I do look not good.” You hadn’t slept very much the past few weeks. How could you sleep whilst Ciel was rotting in the jail?! Charles noticed the chaos on your desk, mountains of papers and files were spread randomly on it. “How are you even able to work in this mess?” You shrugged with your shoulders and asked him:”I appreciate your visit, but I thought you were busy with other things?” Charles sighed and answered with a serious look on his face:”The queen sent me because she thought if you wouldn’t listen to her or your parents then you would probably listen to me. I’m here to knock some sense in you.” “Oh.”, was all you replied. “(y/n), why are you even helping this guy? I mean, don’t you see all the evidences and witnesses? There’s no way he’s-“ Charles was interrupted by you. “I know he’s innocent! Ciel is a loyal and good man! He would never do something like this! He’s too smart, brave, cultivated, cool, handsome...” Whilst you kept rambling with a dreamy look in your eyes about Ciel you missed the dark look that crossed Charles look for a short moment. “During my questioning he didn’t seem like a very polite man.”, he commented with a slight bitterness in his voice.

You stopped talking for a moment and looked at him with wide eyes. “Wait! You’re the one questioning him?!” Charles nodded and in the next moment you were already clinging to his arm. “Then you can help me to get in there! I need to see Ciel and talk to him! I need to hear his side of the story so I can help him to get out faster!” Charles had an unsure expression on his face. “Aren’t you forbidden to get anywhere near him?” You made huge puppy eyes. “Please Charles! You’re my best friend!”, you whined. For a short moment you could have sworn that Charles eyebrow twitched when you called him your best friend, but it was so quickly gone that you weren’t sure if you had even seen it. “I guess I can try, but...” You felt excitement pumping through your veins when he said this. “But?!”, you asked eagerly. “...But you need to promise me that you’ll rest enough. I’m worried for your health when you keep skipping sleep like this.” “I will!” You gave him a big hug. “Thank you! You’re the best!” Charles cheeks heated up slightly and he scratched sheepishly his head. But then once again a serious expression crossed his face. “There’s something else.” You nodded, willing to do everything to see Ciel. “Promise me to not get hurt.” You blinked confused. “What do you mean?” Charles bit his bottom lip. “Ciel...is not who you think he is.” With these words he left the room, leaving a confused you there. “What did he mean with this?”

“You have only twenty minutes, understood? That’s the longest I can keep the guards away.”, Charles told you and you nodded excited. You knew you could count on him! It had taken him some time, but he had managed to lure the guards away for some time, giving you time to speak to Ciel. Only the thought of him made your heart beat five times as fast. “I’ll give you a sign when they’re about to come back.” With these words he opened the door to Ciel’s prison and you quickly sprinted in. The light in there was pretty dim and your eyes needed a moment to adjust, but then you saw him. He was sitting in a small chair in front of a small desk. You couldn’t help, but notice his handsome features. “Ciel.”, you said, feeling thrilled to see him again. He looked up and his beautiful blue eyes met yours. For a short moment you got lost in them, having the feeling that you could just drown in these eyes before you quickly pulled yourself together. There was no time for this! “I’m so sorry that you’re in here! Just know that I always knew that you were innocent and I’ll help you out here! I promise! But I need you to answer me a few questions! There are some things involving this case that don’t make sense and I wanted you to-“ “Can you shut up?” You stopped talking and gave Ciel a surprised look. “Excuse me?” Ciel let an annoyed sigh out and repeated:”Can you shut up? You’re annoying me.” He glared coldly at you and you felt like someone had just hit you in your face. “I understand that all of this is probably getting on your nerves, but I need you to answer me this questions so that I can get you out of here. After that we can do all the things we used to do again. Walking through the garden, having nice teatimes, going on balls and dance together-“ Ciel scoffed. “You don’t get it, do you?” You became once again quiet. “Wh-what do you mean?” Your voice was slightly shaking. Ciel turned towards you with the most degrading look someone could have in his eyes. “You really are stupid for not noticing it. You probably think that I like you and hold this pretty illusion in your head that we’ll get later on married and live happily together for the rest of our lifes, don’t you? Well then, time to grow up and realize that I don’t like you even the slightest bit. I only was nice and polite with you because you’re the queen’s granddaughter and I hoped I would make a good impression on her like this. But in reality you’re just annoying, stupid and clingy. And the most pathetic part is that you were ready to break of the engagement between me and Elizabeth just so I could be your fiancé. But why would I want to be betrothed to a lovesick girl like you? You’re even worse than Lizzy. In my opinion you’re just a silly, lovesick fool.”

‘Crack!’ Your heart crumbled into million pieces because of the brutality of his rejection. For a moment you just stood there shocked and numbed before tears started to escape your eyes. Your breath started to speed up and it felt like the longer you were in the presence of Ciel the harder it got to breath. You needed to get away from him! You turned quickly around and slammed the door open, nearly slaying Charles with it. You just sprinted right back to the palace, to your room where you could cry without needing to hold back. You ignored Charles worried calls after you. “I was a fool! Blinded by the ideal picture I had in my mind that I wasn’t able to see the monster he really is! My parents were right!” Now you also understood what Charles had meant back then. He had just wanted to warn you because he had already seen how Ciel was really like. You were such an idiot...

How long had it been since the day in the jail? Probably less than a week, but in this week the whole world had seemed to turn against you. Only one day after Ciel’s rejection your parents had informed you that they had set up an arranged marriage for you with a guy you had never met in your life before. That had ended in a huge argument where all of you had ended up screaming at each other. But it had been from no use for you. The celebration was in a week and then you would meet this guy for the first time. And you hated it! You hated everything! Currently you were crying in one of your pillows, having never felt so mournful in your life. A knock was heard on your door. “(y/n), my child?” You recognized the voice of your grandmother immediately, but didn’t want to open the door. Instead you chocked a, “Come in.”, out. The door opened and the queen walked slowly to you, sitting down right next to you. “(y/n).”, she spoke softly and embraced you in her arms. “G-grandma.”, you cried and hugged her back, feeling like her arms were the only stability you had left in your life. “It’s-it’s so unfair. I don’t want to ma-marry a g-guy I never met-met before in my li-life.” You sobbed hardly and the queen tried to comfort you by rubbing soothingly circles in your back. “I know. That’s why I came here. I think that’s too much too and I might have an idea how to prevent this from happening.” You looked at her with hopeful eyes. “R-really? B-but my parents told me that they want me to have a fiancé. That means I’ll get engaged to someone in one or another way.” “I know, but at least we can take care of that your fiancé will be at least someone you know.” You raised your eyebrow confused before you realized who she meant. “You mean Charles, don’t you?” Your grandmother nodded. “I understand that it’s probably awkward for you to think about since you’ve known him since you were three and you thought of him so far only as a good friend, but that’s exactly the reason why Charles will be the best choice for you. He knows how you think and work and understands you better than anyone else. Also...” “Also?”, you repeated curiously. The queen gave you a small smile. “No. I think he should tell you that himself.” She stood up. “Think about it. I won’t force you.” Then she left you there, deep in thoughts. But only a few moments later you made a decision.

You stared embarrassed at the ground, waiting for Charles rejection. You had after your talk with your grandmother immediately stormed to Charles and had told him about the idea and Charles had listened without interrupting. “Yes.” “I understand that you feel awkward about this and I apolo-“ You stopped abruptly when you realized what he had just said. “Wait?! What?!” “I said yes.”, Charles repeated himself. “Charles, you don’t have to do this just because I’m the queen’s granddaughter. If you don’t want to I would understand you.” Charles stepped closer to you with a strange look in his eyes. What was that? He slowly grabbed both of your hands and told you:”I want to. You know why? Because I really love you.” Your eyes widened. “S-since when?”, you mumbled shocked. “Since quite some time, to be specific since the first moment I saw you after all those years again. You’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman, but I never got the chance to tell you this because I didn’t know how to.” He looked really sincere whilst confessing to you and you couldn’t help, but feel your heart flutter in your chest. You felt bed for never realizing his feelings for you. “I’m really stupid, aren’t I? I was so busily looking at Ciel that I never noticed your feelings and you were still willing to help me. I guess Ciel was right, I am a silly and lovesick fool.” The bitterness in your voice was clearly audible. “Hey. Look at me.”, Charles told you softly and you lifted your head to look at him. He was staring with pure love in his eyes at you. “Don’t listen to what Ciel told you. This guy is scum for not realizing how lucky he was that you loved him. He’s the only fool for not seeing how pretty and great you really are. But I can see it. I know it’s a bit hard for you to feel the same since you only see me as a dear friend. But I hope you can give me a chance to prove my love for you. Will you give me this chance?” How were you supposed to say no to this? “Yes.”, you answered him, deeply touched by all of this. Charles smiled and moved his face closer to you, looking you shortly in the eyes as if asking if he could do this. When you didn’t move away he captured your lips in a soft kiss, moving his lips against yours and slowly pulling you closer to him. And you decided to kiss him back, feeling your heart beating faster in your chest.

Only a few months later everyone knew about your engagement with Charles. Luckily your parents had quickly agreed to break of the previous engagement, feeling thrilled that you had chosen Charles instead and your mother had told you that she had always liked him and thought he was the perfect match for you. You had moved in with Charles, your parents wanting you to spend your time with your new fiancé. Charles had treated you so far only with love and gentleness, wanting you to feel as comfortable as possible with him. But you had also noticed how he sometimes showed you signs that he wanted to take your relationship to the next step, but you felt a bit unsure about this and were glad that Charles understood that and had every time backed off, willing to wait until you were ready. And this day happened to be this one...

You shot up from your shared bed with Charles, panting heavily. Your whole body burned and you felt a tingling sensation inside your core. That’s when you noticed the way your thighs were tightly pressed together. Confused you moved your hand down and you were shocked when you felt how wet it was down there. “What happened?”, you asked yourself before pictures of your dream started to hit you. Your face started burning and you instantly grabbed your pillow to hide your face in it. You had dreamed about Charles and you doing it! Embarrassing! But destiny seemed to want to torture you a bit more because in that moment the door swung open and Charles walked in. “Honey, I’m-“, he stopped when he saw you curled up in a ball. “Are you alright?”, he asked you worried and came closer to you. “No! Stay right there!”, you yelled scared, didn’t want him to notice in which state you were currently in. He flinched when you screamed at him, looking for a second hurt before he noticed your red face, the way you were panting heavily and the way you rubbed your thighs against each other. His face started flushing pink. “Oh.” You whined, feeling more than just ashamed that he had found out before you felt him laying a hand on your shoulder. You flinched and whimpered in his touch, glancing carefully at his face. You didn’t miss the haze of lust that was visible on his face and one short glance down told you that you had successfully aroused him. Just great. “Let me have you.” You blushed even more when you heard him saying this. “I-I’m not too sure.”, you stuttered, clearly embarrassed. “I know that it must be uncomfortable since you still aren’t too sure about how you should feel about me and this will be your first time. But I promise that I’ll be careful and gentle with you. Please give me the chance to show you how deep my love really goes for you.” His voice sounded desperate for obvious reasons and his breath had by now quickened as well. You were arguing with yourself whether to accept or not. You knew he would back of if you told him to, but did you want him to leave you? You knew you needed some relief and you were not too sure if your own hands would satisfy you enough. You didn’t answer him, but the pleading look you gave him was all he needed. He was quick to tower over you and started to attack your face and neck with kisses, making you whimper and squirm under him. He hastily started undressing himself, showing you that he was really desperate for this. It was rather simple for him to undress you since you were only in a nightgown and underpants. You couldn’t help, but blush when you saw him completely naked like this. Charles on the other hand took a moment to let his eyes roam over your exposed body before bending down to your face. You gasped when you felt him pressing his length against your entrance, whining for him to stop teasing. “I love you...so much.” That were the last words you could remember because after that you weren’t able to think about anything different than the immense pleasure and Charles groans.

“What do you mean by he’ll be let out again?!”, you yelled shocked and angrily at your parents. Your father sighed and tried to reason:”The Midford’s pleaded us to let him out again since their daughter seems to be completely broken. It also looks like that some of the evidences and statements from the witnesses don’t seem to fit together so the queen decided to let him out. But only under supervision.” You were speechless. Only a few months ago you had been the one defending Ciel, but now the tables had turned and you were the one wanting to see him rot in jail. “Darling, we’re glad that you’re over him, but please don’t try to do anything stupid. Even your fiancé stood up for him and told your grandmother that there is something wrong about the situation.” This made you freeze in your movements. “Charles believes that Ciel is innocent?”, you asked surprised. “Yes.”, your father told you. “Where is he?”, you asked him. “I believe he’s currently with the young Phantomhive. The queen gave him the job to let Ciel out again and explain how everything will work for him now.” You instantly turned around, storming towards the prison. Your head was screaming at you that something was suspicious. It didn’t make sense! Charles was from the very beginning the one who had liked Ciel the less and had always told you that he was a bad person. Why did he suddenly change his mind?

When you arrived at the jails you were surprised when you didn’t find any guards what only strengthened the bad feeling you had. You slowly sneaked inside, careful to not run into anybody on your way. When you had almost reached the cell where Ciel was kept you suddenly heard voices, recognizing them as Charles and Ciel’s. You quickly hid behind the corner and silently listened to what they were talking about. “I almost thought you would break your promise to me.”, you heard Ciel speaking. Promise? Which promise? “I’m sorry for letting you wait that long, but it did took me a while to make the evidences and statements look fake after spending so much effort to create them.”, Charles answered. You tended up. What did he mean with this? You slowly peeked around the corner to see what was going on in there. You saw Charles, Ciel and Ciel’s butler standing there. “I need to give you that, you did great with creating all this to false evidences and statements to make me look like a criminal, just to get the love of this damn girl.” Your brain almost stopped working. Did he mean...? “Don’t call her that! And don’t even dare to come near her ever again!”, Charles yelled angrily at Ciel before taking a deep breath to calm down and continuing in a calmer voice:”But at least I don’t have to worry about her still loving you. You did quite the number to her back then. She cried for days straight and I was almost planning to kill you for that.” Ciel scoffed and replied:”You told me to go harsh on her. I got kind of lost in my words as well since this was a chance to tell her how I really felt.” You stood there trembling, your brain just having understood what they were talking about. What had you done?! You had walked straight into the devil’s trap! You needed to tell your parents and the queen about this! But in that moment you crossed eyes with the red eyes butler who gave you a mischievous smirk before telling the two men:”It’s seems like the little princess was eavesdropping on our little conversation.” Charles snapped his head quickly around, his eyes almost instantly meeting your wide ones. “(y/n)?!” He sounded clearly shocked, not having expected you to hear all of this. You stepped slowly back before quickly turning around and storming back to the palace. You heard Charles cursing and yelling at Ciel and his butler that they could leave now and when you took a short glance behind you you saw that he was chasing after you.

You gasped desperately for air when you reached the throne room, feeling glad to see your parents and your grandmother in there. “Child? Is everything alright? You look very pale.”, your grandmother told you with a worried expression on her face. Nothing was right! You had just found out that Charles had planned all of this from the very beginning, but you needed to admit that physically you didn’t feel all that great either. You felt dizzy and I’ll for some reason, probably from all the running. In the next second Charles reached the throne room as well, immediately grabbing you by the shoulders and panting from the little run. You were quick to slap his hand away. “Mum! Dad! Grandma! Charles, he...” You couldn’t finish your sentence, everything suddenly started spinning around. “(y/n)?”, you heard Charles asking you worried. You stumbled against him, grabbing his shoulder for some support. “Daughter! What is wrong?!”, your father asked panicked. “I-I” Before you could finish that sentence you suddenly collapsed and Charles quickly catched you. “(y/n)!!”, you heard many voices calling your name before everything turned suddenly dark.

When you opened your eyes the first thing you noticed was that you were laying in your old room in the palace in your bed and that your whole family was in there. Charles was sitting next to you, holding your hand tightly in his. He was the first one who noticed that you were awake. “(y/n)! You’re awake!” At first you wanted to scream at him, but you stopped when you noticed the pure look of happiness on his face. And not only on his face, but on the faces of your parents and the queen as well. “How can time pass by so fast? It feels just like yesterday when I held her for the first time in my arms.”, your mother spoke with tears in her eyes. You blinked confused, not really understanding what was going on. “Can someone explain to me what is going on here?” “Darling, you’re pregnant.”, your father told you in a touched tone. It was the second time that day that your brain stopped working, not able to process what he had just said. “I never thought I would live long enough to witness the day where I would become a great-grandmother.”, the queen spoke with a soft smile on her face. “Since when?” You didn’t even know how you managed to ask this question. “Since one month.”, Charles told excitedly. “The marriage should be hold in the next few weeks before she starts showing.”, your father suddenly spoke up and your mother nodded. “I think so too. You both need to get married before she starts showing since it will be a bit more complicated with the dress then.” You just stared somewhere in the space, not really realizing what was going on around you. “Let’s talk about this outside. I think we should give those two a bit time alone.”, the queen told your parents. They nodded in agreement and left the both of you alone.

“We’re going to be parents! Isn’t that just wonderful?” Charles sounded ecstatic. A thousands thoughts were racing through your head right now, thinking about how to get out of this situation only to be met with the ugly and horrible truth. There was no way out! You knew that you would bring great shame over your whole family if you would refuse to marry the man who got you pregnant and with whom you were engaged. So you did the only thing you could think of in that moment. You raised your hand and smacked Charles with all strength you could bring on in that moment, putting all your anger, disappointment and frustration in this hit. Charles blinked confused and looked surprised at you whilst a red handprint started to become visible on his face. “How could you do this to me?!”, you yelled angrily at him. Charles started chuckling a bit, rubbing his cheek. “I guess I deserved that a bit.”, he mumbled. But then he answered you:”You want to know why I did it? I did it for us. I knew that we were perfect for each other and I knew that I could give you the love that no one else could give you. But you were blinded by this Phantomhive boy, wanting to marry him. And I couldn’t let that happen! This boy was preventing you from seeing who your true love was, who you were meant to be with. ME! I’m perfect for you! I did all of this to help you realize that.” Shock wasn’t even the word to describe your feelings now. Was he crazy?! “You did all of that because you believed that the only one who was perfect for me was you?!” You stared with an unbelieving look in your eyes at him. But his gaze told you that he was really believing that. You could have screamed at him, hit him, cursed him even though you doubted that you would find a fitting word to use for him because even the worst word you could think about seemed too nice for him. But you did none of this. Instead the realization how hopeless your situation was hit you once more, but this time much more harder. You started sobbing, hiding your face in your hands. Charles was quick to embrace you in a hug, stroking your hair softly. “I promise you that I’ll take great care of you and the child.”

End of Flashback

It had been four weeks since your marriage and you were currently in your tenth week. Your stomach was still flat, but you knew that this would change the next few weeks. Originally you had wanted to hate that child just because it was Charles, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do that. It wasn’t the fault of the little one. In the next moment the door to the bedroom was opened and Charles walked in. “Hello darling. How are you feeling?”, he asked you gently and sat down next to you on the bed, giving you a long kiss and pulling you closer to him. You didn’t answer him and turned away from him. You heard him sigh. “Are you still mad at me?” Your eyebrow twitched. Was that even a question?! “How is the baby doing?”, he tried to change the topic and slowly started caressing your belly. “Fine.”, you answered him shortly, but you couldn’t completely hide the nervousness in your voice. Recently your mother had visited you and had told you from her experience during the time she had been pregnant with you and how your birth had been for her. It had scared you a bit when she had told you about how much she had struggled during her pregnancy and birth. How the hell were you supposed to endure all of this?! Charles noticed the look on your expression. “You’re worried, aren’t you?” You still refused to answer him and look at him, but this time he gently grabbed your chin and turned your head in his direction, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll look cute with a swollen stomach carrying our child.”

[luxekook]

chapter six.

⇥ pairing: ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 4.6k (may have gotten a bit *cough* carried away)

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, dirty talk, general chaotic energy, poly relationships, switch!reader, jungkook being a lovable idiot, bad driving, taehyung trying (and failing) to catfish the reader, bar bathroom smut, oral (m receiving), light choking

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

Chapter Six

Habitat Worksite – 11:25am

The rest of the morning goes by pretty smoothly much to my surprise. The group that I help Eddie orient is from a pub in the neighboring town. They’re so much nicer than the last scarring group I had to deal with, and they’re actually listening to my directions.

I’m pretty sure I have tears in my eyes as I supervise them cutting plywood like professionals – but that could just be the sawdust.

When I become confident that no one is going to injure themselves with the power saw, I recruit some other volunteers to help me transfer the cut wood inside.

As we walk into the house, I almost drop the plywood onto my foot. Jungkook is shirtless, mixing cement together. When had he even arrived? I stare unabashedly at him – The height. The build. The broad shoulders. The veined forearms. The ridged stomach. The tattoos…

Tay, the middle-aged mother of two helping me, follows my line of vision, “Oh my... please tell me you’re hitting that, darling.”

“Tay!” I hiss, my eyes darting around to see if anyone heard her. Sure enough, Jungkook is looking at us and smirking like he was just crowned king of the fucking universe. “I am not hitting anything, thank you very much.”

She makes a derisive noise, “I might be old, but I'm not blind. He’s looking at you like you’re the best thing since sliced bread.”

Jungkook hands off his mixing duties to Matt and saunters over to us, “Hey, noona. You look nice today. Do you need any help?”

“Not hitting that, my ass,” Tay mutters and shoots me a triumphant look as she walks back outside.

I roll my eyes at her antics and turn to Jungkook, “Hi, Kookie. What happened to your shirt?”

Jungkook blushes, “I may have taken it off, and then it may have fallen into the cement.”

My eyes wander around the room until they fall on a sad lump of fabric and semi-dried cement in the corner. My lips twitch.

“Noona-a,” Jungkook whines, “Don’t laugh!”

My body doubles over, shaking with laughter. Tears stream down my face as I try in vain to catch my breath.

“Is she okay?” I vaguely hear Hobi ask before I feel his hand run soothing circles on my back, “(y/n), are you crying?”

I straighten, wiping my tears, “H-he… cemen-nt… sh-shirt…” My cackles resume.

“She’s lost it, hasn’t she?” Yoongi enters the house with eyebrows raised, “It was only a matter of time. Jungkook has that effect on people.”

“Hyung!” Jungkook punches Yoongi in the arm.

"Am I wrong, Hobi?" Yoongi turns to the other boy, who's hand is still firmly on my back.

Hoseok shoots Yoongi a dirty look, "Don't drag me into this. The last time I tried to argue with the two of you I almost got a concussion."

Jungkook smirks, looking way too pleased to receive such an accusation, "I seem to recall you liking it, Hobi-hyung. What was it you were screaming?"

Yoongi snickers as he leans into Jungkook, effectively teaming up on poor Hobi, "I believe the phrase was 'harder, oh my god, harder!'" He and Jungkook collapse onto each other in fits of laughter as Hoseok turns an amusing shade of magenta.

I turn to face Hobi. "Is that how you like it?" I murmur, tilting my head to stare up at him, "You like it hard? Rough?"

Hobi swallows as his pupils dilate. His hand on my lower back suddenly clenches, crumpling my shirt within his fist. "Yes," his voice comes out deeper than I had ever heard it.

Vaguely, I notice the other two boys have stopped laughing. Good. No one would tease my sweet Hobi in front of me and get away with it.

My decision solidifies. "Well," I say, "Then that's how I'll give it to you."

"No one will be giving anything to anyone until we finish this project," Namjoon's voice booms, breaking up your little moment with Hoseok.

The four of you swing to face him, blinking owlishly.

Namjoon's eyes are shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration, "Jeon Jungkook, for the love of god, where is your shirt?"

An hour later, I found myself stuck in the backseat of Jungkook's black Range Rover. After Hobi, Yoongi, and Jungkook had loudly voiced their opinion in front of the entire worksite that it was their turn to drive me, I had quickly jumped into the car to avoid further humiliation.

Now, I sat wedged in between Hobi and Yoongi who both refused to sit in the front next to Jungkook and also forbade me from doing so. I only agreed because I was not one to miss an opportunity to be pressed up between two hot guys. Sue me.

Glancing down at my thighs, I marvel at the way both of the boys have placed possessive hands on them. "This is so lame," Jungkook complains for the hundredth time as he glances at the three of us in the rearview mirror. "I want to touch noona, too!"

We ignore him.

Yoongi's slim fingers dig in slightly into the softness of my inner thigh, "(y/n)," his hushed words ghost over my neck, "Come home with us?"

"Please," Hobi echoes from my other side. His hand is more brazen in its placement. His pinky just a fraction away from the apex of my thighs.

Perhaps I could close my legs like the proper lady my grandma wanted me to be... but fuck that. I would woman-spread however I damn well please. "Hmm," I pretend to think about it, "No."

"But why?" Hobi pouts, making puppy-dog eyes in my direction, "You said you were going to give it to me."

I shrug, noncommittally, "I never said when."

Jungkook sighs from the driver's seat, "Ah, I love it when noona is evil."

"We fucking know, Jungkook," Yoongi groans, "You only bring it up a thousand times a day."

"Hey!" Jungkook whirls around in his seat, "Stop exposing me, hyung!"

"Eyes on the damn road, JK!" Hobi grips the 'oh shit' bar as the car begins to veer into the bike lane. Jungkook whips back around and quickly rights the car. Meanwhile, Yoongi smirks like the little shit starter he is.

"Looks like I'm not the only evil one here," I roll my eyes, "You're a menace, Min Yoongi."

"Yes, I am," the boy puffs up his chest and grins that gummy smile that he knows makes me melt, "But I'm your menace."

"Ah, gross!"

"Ew!"

Jungkook and Hobi yell as I try not to smile at Yoongi's rare display of cuteness and fail miserably.

"Stop trying to butter me up so that I'll come home with you, Yoongs," I smile and thread my fingers through his.

"Why?" He leans into me, "Is it working?"

"Not at all," I breathe, eyes darting to his lips as his tongue slips out to wet them.

"Liar," Yoongi moves in closer. My eyelids lower in anticipation.

Jungkook slams on the breaks and jolts the three of us forward, "We're here!" Grumbling, I pull my seatbelt away from its death grip on my body.

"Well played, Jungkook, well played," Yoongi comments from beside me.

"Tell that to my fucking neck," Hobi moans as he massages the front of his neck where his seatbelt must have dug in.

"Aw," I take pity on the poor boy and offer half-jokingly, "Want me to kiss it better?"

"YES!" Hobi's hand flies off his neck at the speed of light and thrusts his neck out in my direction.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, he is adorable.

I place the lightest of kisses against the growing pink mark on his skin and revel in the shudder his body emits.

"Bye, Hobi," I place one last kiss on him and slide out of the car, using the door that Yoongi vacated from.

"Bye, angel!" Hobi cries out after me, waving furiously. So damn adorable.

Once I exit the car fully, I am faced with a pouting Jungkook and an annoyed-looking Yoongi.

"What now?" I eye them warily.

Yoongi gives Jungkook a dark look, and the younger boy backs off slightly. Turning back to me, Yoongi steps forward. "Bye, (y/n)," he says lowly, brushing a fallen strand of hair behind my ear. A light dusting of pink floods his cheeks at his own soft actions. I bite the inside of my cheek to contain my innate reaction to shower him with affection.

That time would come later, I'm sure.

"Bye, Yoongi," I press my mouth his cheek, "Keep your menacing ways to a minimum while I'm not around, would you?"

"No promises," Yoongi drawls, before hopping back into the car.

And just like that I'm left with one tall bashful boy.

"Oh, Jungkook..." I walk towards where he is propped up against the front of his car. His lean body slouches against the hood as his left leg props itself up on front tire. He still has yet to put another shirt on.

"I'm sorry, noona," he speaks to the pavement in the tiniest voice, "I got jealous that I wasn't getting to be that close to you."

I lift his chin up with my finger, "Baby, you were the only one who had my nipples in your mouth last night, and you're jealous of them?"

He swallows hard before grinning, "Well, when you put it like that..."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," I give into the urge to trace the muscles of his stomach. They bunch up under my touch and I smile at his responsiveness. "You know," I continue, "You're going to have to get over this jealousy thing if I do decide to date you all."

"I know, noona," the pout returns, and this time it's paired with a devastating pair of imploring doe eyes. "I just like you. A lot.”

"Well," I smile, "It's a good thing that I also happen to like you. A lot."

"Really?" Jungkook's neck snaps up at an alarming rate, "You do?"

"Yes, you giant idiot," I grip the back of his neck, "Now, kiss me goodbye."

He kisses me. His teeth pull at my bottom lip in a faint bite, and goosebumps spread across my body. I bite him harder in retaliation, but it only seems to urge him closer against me, body hard, warming me everywhere we connect. His fingertips drag down my skin until they reach my waist. His hands slide up under my shirt, and he rests his palms against my skin, fingers splayed down over my hips.

His hold is undeniably possessive. And that would not do.

I lean up and kiss him harder, digging my nails into his back as I tug him against me, feeling every inch of his body respond to my touch. A groan rumbles deep from within his chest.

“Do you think they’re going to come up for air soon?” An amused voice cuts through our make-out session.

Jungkook rips his mouth from mine, “Fuck off, Hobi.”

I open my eyes and blink a couple times before focusing on the smirking faces of Hobi and Yoongi. Their heads are sticking out of the open back window of the Range Rover as they cackle in amusement.

"Hobi," I say sweetly, "Do you need another mark on your neck today?" My hand flexes tauntingly in his direction.

Hoseok's eyes widen, "N-no! Bye again, (y/n)!" He retreats back into the car as Yoongi continues to chuckle before rolling up the window once more.

"You can mark my neck, (y/n)-noona."  Jungkook's voice jolts me from my second thoughts on not going home with them.

This boy really is shameless, I think to myself as I shake my head.

"Maybe next time, Kook," I grin at him, "It'll give you something to look forward to."

"For as long as there are next times with you, noona, I will look forward to them."

My heart swells. "You're such a sweetheart, baby boy." The nickname has its desired effect as Jungkook's cheeks blush and his smile widens.

"I'm baby," he nods.

"Yes, you dork, you are," I place a swift peck to his cheek and head into my apartment before I get any more tempted to jump back in his car and initiate a foursome.

God, what were these boys doing to me?

(Y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 4:15pm

A few hours later, I am deep in an argument with Luna over who the best Queer Eye guy is when my phone buzzes.

[Unsaved Number] 2 New Messages

Luna notices my confusion. "Who is it?" she asks, leaning over to look at my screen.

"No fucking clue," I reply, swiping open the messages.

[Unsaved Number] 4:15pm: “Hey, babe! It's me! Namjoon!” 4:15pm: “Want to meet at Hannigan's tonight? Just the two of us!?”

"What the everliving fuck?" My eyebrows rise at the completely obvious way that someone was poorly attempting to impersonate Namjoon.

"That's how Namjoon texts?" Luna sits back, "What a letdown."

"I don't think this is even Namjoon," I mutter and save the contact before swiping over to SnapChat. "Let's see if I have this person's Snap."

"Oh, your mind!" Luna exclaims, running to go grab a bag of pretzels from our tiny kitchen adjacent to our also tiny living room, "That is some top sleuthing right there."

"Why thank you, my good sir," I nod at her playfully before focusing back on my screen. Opening the 'Add Friends' tab, my eyes immediately hone in on the imposter.

"Oh, that little shit," I cry, chucking my phone onto the other end of the couch.

"What? Who is it?" Pretzel crumbs spew out of Luna's mouth as she ambles over to where I had just thrown my phone. She picks it up, turns it over, and lets out a long whistle. "Oh, fuck. What are you going to do?"

Luna hands my phone back to me, and I reopen the messages to respond.

Me 4:21pm: "Hi, Namjoon. I'll meet you there." 4:21pm: "9pm."

It'S mE! nAmJoOn! 4:22pm: “Yay! It's a date!” 4:22pm: “See you at 9!!!”

"Well," I lock my phone and set it down on the coffee table, "It looks I’ll finally get the chance to teach Kim Taehyung a lesson."

Luna springs up from the couch, "I'm calling Jenni. Let's do this."

Hannigan’s - 9:09pm

I'm nervous with anticipation.

Why?

Oh, that’s right – motherfucking Kim Taehyung thought he could pull one over me by impersonating Namjoon, and, so far, he's nowhere to be found.

I grasp my beer tightly as I slouch lower on my barstool. Since arriving about twenty minutes ago, I had set up camp in the corner of the bar. Luna and Jenni had immediately ditched me upon arrival, claiming that they were meeting friends.

I would have believed them if I hadn’t noticed that they just relocated to a table within vision of me and were scouring the room for any signs of Taehyung. I pull out my phone and once again debate texting him.

Fuck it. I'm just about to construct a text when my phone pings with messages from the group chat:

Bee Gang 9:10pm, Luna: “HE'S HERE” 9:10pm, Jenni: “HE LOOKS SOOOO GOOD KSKSKS” 9:11pm, Luna: “HOLY SHIT I THINK HE JUST SAW YOU” 9:11pm, Jenni: “TAEHYUNG IS LOOKING AT YOU LIKE YOU'RE THE HOTTEST THING HE'S EVER SEEN. HE'S GONNA FUCK YOUR SHIT UP I’D BET GOOD MONEY!!!” 9:11pm, Luna: “NAH DUDE *SHE* IS GONNA FUCK UP *HIS* SHIT” 9:12pm, Jenni: “OMG U RIGHT” 9:12pm, (y/n): “1) YOU BOTH SUCK AT HIDING, 2) NO ONE IS FUCKING ANYONE UP, 3) MAYBE THE SECOND THING IS A LIE”

I lock my phone and place it face down on the bar.

Looking up to see where Taehyung is, I immediately lock eyes on him. He's slowly making his way towards me with people constantly pausing him to chat. Taehyung’s all smiles, but I can tell he is a bit annoyed. That strikes me as odd – I thought he loved the attention?

The boy emerges free from the crowd, and I finally get to take him in.

Damn, he does look so good. His tight white t-shirt emphasizes his toned stomach while his overlying black leather jacket makes his shoulders look a mile wide. My gaze drops lower and take in his black pants with a black belt cinching the waist. I have to fight the urge to grab it and use it to pull him into me.

He’s almost to me when he turns his gaze to the bartender and flicks up two fingers. And just like that two beers and an annoying but hot-as-sin man appear in front of me.

“You don't look surprised to see me,” he says as his greeting, sliding me one of the new beers. He shoots a look at the group of boys occupying the stools next to me and they immediately make themselves scarce.

I arch an eyebrow, “You do realize I had all of your SnapChats to double check the number with, right?”

"God-fucking-damn," Taehyung plops down in the barstool next to mine, "No wonder it was so easy to convince Joon to let me do this." He shakes his head and glances up at me beneath his blue fringe, “You still came? Even though you knew it was me?”

I roll my eyes at his cute actions, "Yes, I figured you had something important to say if you went through all that to get me here."

He blinks, clearly still caught off guard that I wasn't surprised to see him. "I do," His voice cracks and he flushes deliciously, "I mean, yes, I have something to say."

"Okay," I nod and sip from my beer, "So, tell me."

His fingers fiddle with the label on his beer bottle as he begins, "I know I'm not your favorite person... I'm loud. I'm bratty. I know that. But I just have to know if you felt anything that night last semester; because, I did, and I can't stop thinking about it. I know that you probably haven't. It's been killing me to see you with everyone else that I love, and I just need to know if there's a chance you might want to be with me like that, too, and-"

I clamp a hand over his mouth. His eyes snap to mine.

"Baby," I sigh, "Is this what's been making you act out?"

Taehyung's head bobs as he nods swiftly.

"Now, that just won't do," I murmur, my mind whirring as I think of all the times I had thought he wanted to annoy me when all he really wanted was my attention.

"Listen," I continue, pulling my hand from his mouth, "I don't know where you got those ideas stuck in your head from, but they're wrong. I do think about that night last semester. All the fucking time, Tae. And, yes, you're loud, and you have a tendency to be a brat... But, it only makes me more interested."

Taehyung's eyes burn into mine as I lean closer, "It only makes me want to teach you some discipline."

I watch as Taehyung’s knuckles go white as he clenches his beer. Concerned that the glass might shatter in his grip and hurt him, I slowly place my hand over his, “Relax, baby.”

"You can't just say things like that, noona!" Taehyung moans, shifting in his seat.

"And why not?" I tease as he takes a long sip of his beer with his head tilted back and his throat muscles moving in a way that made me want to do bad things.

I blink, "You know what? Forget it. Let's just start over, okay?"

Taehyung bites his lip, “Okay, sure.” He gestures to the bartender for another round, “Let’s play a game.”

My response is automatic. “Alright, Jigsaw. What kind of game?”

“Just a nice harmless game of ‘Never Have I Ever’, (y/n). Nothing untoward, I promise.”

My eyes narrow at his way-too-innocent smile and his archaic use of ‘untoward’. “Fine,” I arch an eyebrow, “But I have a few stipulations.”

“I would be disappointed if you didn’t, noona,” he scoots his stool closer to me, “Lay ‘em on me.”

Oh, I will, my inner hoe responds.

Out loud, I reply, “The game can be stopped at any time, and you have to explain your answers if the other person asks.”

“Done,” he grins, “Never have I ever gotten my nipples pierced.”

“That’s targeting!” I exclaim indignantly, “You’ve seen them, you prick.”

“I haven't tasted them. At least, not yet,” his eyes squint at my boobs which are currently well-covered by a jean jacket. “Jungkook has… That fucker,” he mumbles under his breath.

These boys and their jealousy... I shake my head. How had they managed to stay in a relationship with all of this possessiveness they clearly had going on? It's truly a mystery.

"My turn," I grin, "Never have I ever dyed my hair blue."

"This is really more of a teal-ish green, noona!" Taehyung tries to argue, and I scoff.

"Fine," he relents and mumbles under his breath, "Should have brought my paint swatches." After taking a sip of his drink, he switches gears, “Never have I ever wanted to date a frat boy?”

I sip my drink. He immediately demands clarification. I grin, “Those EXO boys are fine.”

His jaw clenches. Ooh, he does not like that answer.

“EXO?” he snarls, "Over my dead body."

My eyebrow quirks up, “Well, that's a bit dramatic. They seem like nice boys.”

"Nice boys?" Taehyung cocks his head, "Noona, those aren't your type."

He's right. I push him further, “And what is my type then, Tae?”

“Boys that challenge you.”

He’s right again, but I’d rather not give him the satisfaction of knowing it. His ego is already inflated enough. I smile inwardly and say, “You think you have me all figured out, Kim.”

Taehyung surprises me as he breaks into a loud laugh, “No, not even close. But I’m a persistent boy so maybe I’ll get there one day.”

Just then I realize how close to one another we’ve gotten. Our sides are touching, and his hand has apparently been gripping my thigh for who knows how long. I stare at it, examining the adorning rings on his pointer and index fingers.

Are those fucking Gucci?

He must notice my gaze on his hand because he squeezes my thigh, and I smily at him. “I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

Taehyung looks at me like I’m something precious, something divine. I want to shatter that image. I want to ruin it. I want to ruin him.

“Taehyung?”

“Yes, noona?”

“Kiss me.” And he does.

Taehyung kisses me over and over. I’m honestly a bit overwhelmed it. His mouth is tender on mine, and with every exhale, he lets out the slightest moan, which almost seems like a plea for more.

He’s gentler than I remember. His mouth is warm and soft; his caresses are leisurely and unhurried.

I pull back slightly to look him in his eyes. They are dazed, unfocused.

My lips brush his ear as I whisper, “Be a good boy and meet me in the bathroom in two minutes.”

With that, I saunter away towards the back bathroom which usually tends to be cleaner due to its slightly hidden nature.

Knocking on the door, I strain my ears for any sign of a reply. Nothing. I enter the dim room and immediately catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

My hair is everywhere, and I immediately grab the hair-tie around my wrist.

I pause, a sinful idea coming to mind.

A knock sounds. “Noona?” A deep voice calls, and I open the door, grab Tae by the collar, and tug him inside.

“Noona, you’re feisty tonight I-” I cut him off with my mouth.

I don’t hesitate as my mouth consumes his and my body presses him against the wall. My tongue finds his as my hips grind into him. He whimpers, and it’s such a beautiful sound.

After feeling him throb through his clothes, the thought I had earlier returns.

Stepping back, I grab my hair-tie and tug my hair up into a ponytail. Taehyung whines as I slowly sink to my knees before him, “Jesus, fuck.”

“Is this okay?” I question, gazing up at the beautiful boy above me, “Do you want my mouth, baby?”

“Shit, yeah,” Taehyung wraps my ponytail in his hand and lightly pulls me closer.

Does he think he’s suddenly in charge?

I flick open his belt before tugging his pants down. His cock strains against his silky black boxers and I give into the temptation to suck on it through the fabric.

“F-fuck, please, noona,” the stuttered curse comes from above, and I smile.

I pull his boxers down, grasping his cock and stroking lightly.

And, without warning, I take the head of his cock in my mouth and suck. “Goddamn,” Tae hisses, fingers sliding into my hair. He pulls my hair-tie out and replaces its hold with his fist.

I take him as far as I can, blowing him and stroking the parts of his cock I can’t get to with my mouth.

“Shit, fuck, please,” he begs, looking down at me with wild eyes and a fucked out expression, “Don’t stop, (y/n).”

Stop? Never. The power trip is too delicious.

My mouth bobs on his cock as he bucks, trying to fuck my mouth. My hands grab his ass to control his movements as I slide my mouth off of him.

“Do you want to come in my mouth, baby?” I tilt my head to the side as one of my hands resumes its ministrations.

“Y-yes,” The boy gasps above me, his breath coming in pants, “Please, I’m so close, noona.”

“Hmm, are you going to be my good boy, Taehyung-ie?” My hand halts, and he whines, his hips straining to keep moving in my hand. I squeeze him, “Well?”

“Yes!” He moans, repeating, “I’m your good boy. I’m noona’s good boy.”

“That’s what I thought.” My mouth closes around his cock again and sucks him hard.

“Fuck.” I watch enraptured as Taehyung’s head falls back against the wall, and then he’s coming.

His body convulses above me as I swallow ever last bit of him. After he finishes, I pull my mouth away to kiss the underside of his cock, his balls, the insides of his thighs. Above me, he’s muttering my name like a prayer.

“You can let go of my hair now, Tae,” I laugh, my voice slightly hoarse. Reaching up, I lightly tug his hold from me and slide my discarded hair-tie off of his wrist. Standing, I pull my hair up into a messy bun and turn to face him.

He’s tugging his pants up and staring at me with a darkening expression, his nostrils flared. “Let me taste you, noona. Ride my face.” The tenor of his voice washes over me, tempting me with its rough words.

“You haven’t earned that yet.” I start towards the door, but Taehyung darts in front of it, effectively cutting me off.

“I just want to please you, babe. Come on,” his begging only solidifies my resolve.

“You already have pleased me, Tae,” I swipe a thumb across his cheek as he pouts.

“But I could please you even more with my mouth!”

This boy. I grab his neck lightly, “Listen, baby, I’m going to say this once. When I ride your face, you’ll be tied up across my bed at my mercy. Got it?”

His body becomes pliant under my words and my light grip. I gently shift him out of the way of the exit. “Now, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon, my good boy.”

The parting smile I send him is absolutely lethal, and it only grows bigger when I hear him blurt out a grumbled “holy fuck” as I strut away from him.

a/n: yeeeeeee things are really heating up *fans self* hope y’all liked it!! ALSO, s/o to tay aka @loveejoon for being featured UWU

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[nicb0723]

Find Your Worth

On Ao3 Find Your Worth

John Wick x Reader

Summary: You meet John in an unconventional way.

Notes: Depression trigger warning and mention/thoughts of suicide 

Word Count: 9,279

Chapter 1

This is a pretty lake.  

You probably should take the time to come here more. There are sailboats in the distance and kids swinging at the playground on the other side of the blue water.

It’s pretty here.

It was pretty here. It was a pretty lake. You correct your own thinking, your own thoughts absentmindedly. You’ve been doing that a lot lately. You probably should have taken the time to come here more.

The picnic table you picked is far away from everyone else, like a private little island, except you can hear echoes of laughter and screams of fun as families splash in the water. The wood is hard under your ass and your feet tap on the bench as you wait, trying to be patient. The sun is hot on your back even as it slowly starts its descent in the late afternoon. The sun will be out for a few more hours. It’s two days before the Fourth of July and it’s been really hot, the days are long and nights short.

This would be a pretty place to watch the fireworks.

You breathe in deep, knowing that you probably won’t see any fireworks this year and that’s okay. You’ve made peace with it.

The sound of tires on gravel startle you out of your thoughts and chills run down your spine. This is it. Your skin tightens with anxiety but you’ve come this far. You’ve made your choice.

Steady, confident footsteps follow the car door opening and closing. The rocks under their shoes crunch loudly and the pace is slower as they approach your back. You don’t really want to turn and see whoever it is, but this is the last hard part. Everything else will be easy after this. It’ll be done.

They don’t say anything so you push your sunglasses up over your hair and rub down your face, fingers pressing hard over your temples. You’ve got a headache again. The dull pain gives you enough of a reason to turn your head and nod a hello towards the stranger.

The sun is behind the tall man, making you squint and you have no idea what to say. Maybe he’ll say something first but you wait a few beats and you know that won’t happen. He’s just standing there, looking at you. From your quick glance, you see that he has dark hair slicked back and his body is slim. He’s wearing far too many clothes for this heat, dress slacks and a turtleneck. Maybe he works in the city? Maybe this is his second job?

“Are you him?” Your voice doesn’t sound shaky like you thought it would. You’re slightly proud of yourself for that.

His voice, even though he spoke just one word, makes you shiver. “Yeah.”

“Okay great, um, hello.” You say awkwardly as you shift your body around to fully face him. He steps towards you slowly, coming more into view and his brown eyes are narrowed at yours. His strides are long and his arms carry a lot of strength, his hands and fingers twitch like they’re ready to pounce at any sudden movement. Maybe he’s military? No, but maybe he’s retired because he has long hair and a beard that probably wouldn’t be allowed. It really looks good on him though.

Whoever this man is, it’s not what you were expecting.

At all.

“Thanks for coming.” And now your voice does shake a little because this is a scary thing you’re about to do and suddenly your throat is dry. Did you really decide to do this?

He doesn’t say anything and continues his intense gaze. His eyes finally flicker down your body, it’s nothing but a quick assessment. He nods for you to continue and you sigh deeply. It’s now or never.

“Yeah okay, so I’m assuming you know why I called you?” You didn’t really call, you left a message with a homeless man in the city, who somehow had text you this location, time and day to meet.

He comes even closer and the sunlight shines over his face briefly until he’s in the shade. You wonder how old he is because his skin is smooth, except for the fading scab of blood on his forehead. “I understand you need a hitman.”

Oh, god. He seriously just said it outloud. Like it was nothing.

You clear your throat and sweat breaks over your skin. “Yeah. Yes, that’s right.”

He almost looks disappointed or concerned, you can’t really tell.

“For who?” He asks easily.

“Well, um. Can you tell me how much it’ll be first? I’m kinda curious.” You half heartedly chuckle at your own stupidity. What an amatuear.

“No.” He keeps his stare sharply trained on you, but something tells you that he really doesn’t want to be here, like you’re wasting his time with this. Like this is below him. “Tell me who.”

Moment of truth right here. You close your eyes, take a deep breath of air and face towards the water again. As you open your eyes you barely whisper, “Me.”

Silence. You figured as much. It’s probably not often a hitman gets hired to take out the person who hired him.

“Excuse me?” He asks incredulously.

You look at him again, this tall, dark, handsome stranger who might be the last person you’ll ever see again. “I said... me.”

“You?”

“Yes, me.”

His eyes drop in confusion and he shakes his head, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. When he looks back at you they’re no longer calculating. You hadn't realized he was reading you until now, now that he looks at you with confusion and worry. “Why would you want that?” He finally asks and it startles a bitter laugh out of you.

“Why? I don’t think you want to know. You’d be here all night. Will you do it?”

For a second you think he’s going to say no and your mind races with what you’ll do. How the hell will you find another hitman?

“Tell me why.”

You think about avoiding the question again but he kind of scares you. So what if he knows? It couldn’t possibly hurt anything for him to hear about your depressing life, a life you so desperately want out of. “Why? Okay… well, let’s see...” You want to know his name at least and you raise your eyebrow in question.

He realizes what you want and he says his name, like he’s surprised you somehow don’t already know it. “John.” He says slowly, and it seems like he rarely has to introduce himself.

“Okay, John.” That’s probably not even his real name but it’ll do and you don’t really care. You rub your fingers across your temple again. The ache is starting to spread and you just want this conversation over with as soon as possible. “My grandmother just died. She was the only family I had left.” You pause and look over at John, but he’s just waiting. “She was in the hospital for almost a year. And in hospice for almost two years before that.”

Grandma was a fighter, that was for sure and you savored every single minute you could have with her. But...

“Do you have any idea how expensive hospital bills are? Funeral bills?” You don’t bother to wait for an answer, but you do see John look down, like he did know something about it. “I’ll have to pay for years, which would be fine but see I have a real shitty job. Doesn’t pay a lot at the local gas station.” You don’t add that it was the only job you could find that worked nights and let you be with grandma during visiting hours.

“And not only is working at the gas station bad enough, I have an even shitter boss. He likes to harass me, John. You know anything about getting your ass grabbed on a daily basis?”

No. You thought not. John is looking at you intently now.

“I’d quit but I have no real skills. I barely graduated high school. I love her, but taking care of grandma was a full time job and we didn’t have money for help. I thought I could afford the hospice but…”

You just couldn’t. You were in way over your head. No one taught an 18 year old how to take care of a dying guardian. No one taught you about credit cards and loans and interest and bankers taking advantage of you for years after you graduated. And now, over a decade later you’re still paying for every mistake.

Sighing, you shift towards John and let your legs dangle off the table. “Anyway, my boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend, gets out of jail in a month.”

He looks at you expectedly.

“Oh I put him in there too. Domestic abuse and stuff, you know, the usual.” You cross your arms over your chest in a weak attempt to protect yourself. “So, if you don’t do this I’m sure he’ll find me and I’ll be tied up in a basement somewhere.” You bat your eyelashes, trying for some guilt. “You wouldn’t want that would you, John?”

He doesn’t speak after hearing you spill problems that a normal person could probably handle, but you’re tired. Oh yes. You forgot to mention that. “And I live across the tracks there.” You point out west, towards the bad part of town. “My apartment sucks and I haven’t slept in two years. Like, real sleep, ya know?”

Obviously he doesn't because John still doesn’t say anything. “The sink drips at night and keeps me awake. Drip. Drip. Drip.” You can hear the sound of the water splashing in your bathroom sink as you talk about it. The annoying sound that you’re now obsessed with because it repeats in your head over and over and over again for hours. All. Night. Long. Driving you insane.

“I can’t afford a repair man and the apartment manager could care less. So I don’t sleep. Well, sometimes I did while I was at the hospital with grandma, in a chair. Oh, and there's the dog across the alleyway from my living room that barks during the day too, so that’s nice.”

John is watching you squeeze at the back of your neck now, trying to ease some of the tension pulsing there. You don’t mention the chronic pain that your body is in and how your stomach hurts because of all the pain killers you take. You don’t mention that your car is crap and will probably die soon. You don’t tell him about your parents. You skip the part about being severely depressed. You don’t tell him about a lot.

“So, will you do it?” You ask again.

John pauses and opens his mouth but nothing comes out. You think for sure he’ll say no, but then you remember that this is his actual job and he needs money, right? He can’t really say no. You could go to the police and turn him in. You could threaten him… well, you could try to. You look him up and down again. Maybe.

“Um.” He starts off slowly. “I guess… why don’t you know, just do it yourself?”

Oh. You didn’t really think he’d care about that and you weren’t expecting to provide an explanation. “Are you a religious man, John?”

He shrugs and looks at the silver cross you wear around your neck. “Then you would know I can’t do it myself. I want to see my grandma in Heaven.”

John nods at that and shuffles his feet a little. It’s the first real movement he’s made since he got here.

“I thought about suicide by police, but I don’t want anyone else to get hurt…” You think for a few seconds before you lose a thought, wanting to say it before you forget. “Can I ask you something? I mean, if you decide to do it… like, I just don’t want to know when or how, obviously. I don’t want to know anything. I just want it to be done. I want it to be quick.” You swallow thickly, talking about your own death is really different than just thinking about it constantly. “I just don’t want anyone else hurt, like if you were to cut the wires on the breaks of my car or something? I could potentially crash and hurt someone in another car. And um… could you maybe not do it when I’m in the shower?” You smile weakly at your own request. “I mean, I don’t care if you like, come and do it in my sleep or whatever, but I have this thing while I’m showering… I’m at my most vulnerable, ya know and I just…”

“Yeah. I get it.” He walks a few steps towards you and puts his hand on the table, close to where you’re sitting. He has really long fingers and his knuckles are a bit bruised. There's a tan line where a ring used to be. He stands close to you now and he smells faintly of coffee. His body isn’t as rigid either, now that he knows you’re not a threat and just some small pathetic girl who can’t get her shit together.

“You do?” Relief floods you. Thank God. He understands. That means he’ll do it, right? “So, you’ll do it?”

John just stares now, his eyes soft and unblinking.

“What’s wrong?” You ask. You thought you had explained yourself well enough. What could he possibly be thinking about? It’s his job.

Looking away, he shakes his head. “This is just… not what I expected.”

“Oh.” Okay, that makes sense. You wonder who John thought you’d want to kill. He should still want to get paid though, but you don’t think that’d be the best thing to tell him. You feel like you’ll get scolded or yelled at for some reason. You decide to let him think and keep quiet.

His whole demeanor suddenly changes and he mutters under his breath, “Fucking Jimmy… fucking favors.”  He folds his arms too, like you and leans his narrow hip on the tabe, casual now. You take offense.

“Look, I’m serious about this. I can’t keep living like I am. I know that it could be worse, okay? I know I could be homeless or I could… it could be a lot worse. But I’m just done. I’m tired. I want out. So just… please?”

John nods silently. Finally he answers as he stands up straight, broad shoulders squared and readies himself to leave. “I’ll let you know.”

You feel the panic tighten in your lungs. “Wait. What? You can’t tell me now? That’s bullshit!”

“That’s the way this works,” he says calmly. “I get to think about it and get back to you if I take the job.”

You’ve been planning this for months. None stop thinking about this very moment. The disappointment you feel is familiar though. Nothing in your life would ever be easy. “Yeah, okay.” You sigh sadly. “Could you at least tell me how much it’ll cost if you do decide?”

John unfolds his arms and puts his hands on his hips. “Fifty thousand.”

“Fift-- what? Are you serious?! That’s insane.”

He shrugs again and doesn’t say anything. He actually does look very serious. In fact, that could be a smirk on his pretty mouth.

You may not be smart, but you aren’t stupid either. “Fine. I’ll just get someone else to do it. This city is full of scumbags who need to make a buck.” Jumping down from the table you stand and you realize how tall John is compared to you. “Just leave. I’m sorry I wasted your time.”

“No. No. Don’t do that.” The urgency that suddenly comes from him surprises you and it causes you to take a step back. “Just. Promise me. You won’t get anyone else, okay?”

You scoff in frustration. “Well what the hell else am I supposed to do? I don’t need all of this…” your hands gesture to his expensive clothes and for the first time you see the shiny classic car that’s parked a few yards away. You sigh loudly, unimpressed. Usually guys who have a car like that are complete douche bags. “Fancy.”

“Fancy?” John gives you a disapproving look.

“Yeah, you’re very fancy, I don’t know.” You’re pissed off and he seems to finally get it, putting his hands up like you’re a scared kitten.

“Okay, okay, fine. Look, I’ll do it.”

Call it a woman's intuition but you don’t believe him and it shows. “How much?”

John searches the ground, scrambling for an answer that won’t make you walk. “Three hundred.”

That’s not what you were expecting, but whatever. You just want to go and lay down before your shift starts at work. You don’t really have to go in, knowing it won’t matter in a few days, but you want to live normally in complete bliss of denial that this whole thing ever happened. When it’s your time to go, it's your time. Sort of.

“I want it to happen within a week of today. I don’t care if it’s tomorrow, tonight, or three days from now. But in seven’s day time… it’s done.” You reach your hand out for John to shake it. “Deal?”

He looks down at your hand. It’s like everything John does is precise, every move made is methodical. Your hands meet and shake twice, his fingers engulfing yours and you pull away quickly.

“How do I pay you?” Do you leave the money on your kitchen table or something?

John takes out car keys from his pocket. “I’ll contact you.”

“You don’t even have my phone number. You don’t even know my name.”

Now he really does smirk and you feel slightly dumb at questioning him. “I’ll be in contact,” he repeats. You have no doubt that he knows exactly where you live, your phone number, even your social security number. He probably knew all your information before meeting you today.

“Fine.” You grab your purse from the bench and swing it over your shoulder. “Thank you, I guess.”

John steps back towards his car and stops. “Just… one thing?”

“Yeah?”

His voice is soft, hopeful even. “Tell me if you change your mind?”

You shake your head no. “I won--”

“Just...” He stops you before the protest starts. “When I contact you, let me know then.” With that he turns towards the parking lot.

You can hear the roar of his car as you start to walk home. You did it. It’s done. You smile to yourself, the first in a very long time and it feels foreign on your lips.

**

The dog is barking again as you try to rest. Your headache isn’t much better, but the thought of a cold energy drink at work makes you get up and dressed.

It’s very rare that you look at yourself in the mirror anymore. The last time must have been months ago. Your hair is stringy and long, not having a cut in years. Dark, shallow circles engulf under your lifeless eyes. Your cheeks are sunken in but you put on a few pounds lately, sugar being the only thing to keep you up and going. It’s not a cute sight.

The only clothes you have now either have a hole or a rip somewhere. Your shoes are worn thin and probably contribute to the constant pain in your lower back.

You look decent enough and the thought that this might be your last night of work gives your stomach a sharp twist. John could come tonight. He could be in your apartment waiting for you when you got home. Will he have a gun? A knife? Maybe he’ll strangle… you need to stop thinking about it.

The small apartment is sticky hot when you lock up, and you’re glad for the short walk to the gas station for some fresh air.

Gary’s car is parked in front of the car wash and your heart falls. He really is the worst manager ever and even though you’re not really scared of him, he gives you the creeps. You don’t want to deal with his shit tonight, not after today, and you wonder how long he’ll be there since he’s only supposed to check in a few times a week.

“Hey,” You mutter to him as you walk briskly to put your purse in the back and grab the soda you stuck in the fridge on your last shift.

Gary’s smiling and leering at you. “How are you, sweetheart?”

Grimacing weakly you nod and glance at his bald head. You never really look at him and avoid all possible eye contact. You ignore the question though and move to grab your apron under the counter and start to stock the shelves of assorted candy and gum. Hopefully he leaves you alone today.

“I like that color on you.”

You hear his comment and close your eyes for strength. The door suddenly opens, signaling a customer and you hurry to the register to help. Gary must give up and heads to the back storage room.

The lady pays for her gas and a bottle of water but the register jams and you have to work your magic to get it open. The register is a piece of crap that’s way older than it should be and you’re surprised it still works, but you’ve mastered it and know every trick to get it functioning. You always have to teach the guy who works in the mornings and the other employees who work on the weekend how to fix it.

Gary finally leaves after you don’t pay him much attention and keep yourself busy. It’s a fine line between being rude to the guy and keeping your job. And although you could tell him off because John could technically come for you tonight, something tells you that you’re better than that. But barely, because you really don’t want any other girl to go through what you have in this place. Maybe you’ll leave a letter to corporate that John can mail for you after he’s… done.

You close up at midnight like usual and glad the night wasn’t eventful. Walking home is a different experience than any other night. You’re hyper aware of your surroundings, expecting a tall figure to approach you at any second. It’s slightly disappointing when nothing happens and you make it just fine.

There’s no one in your apartment either. You kind of thought John would be waiting in the closet, waiting for you to sleep or something, but he’s not here.

You lay in bed, restless. Should you even plan out your day tomorrow? John could slip in the middle of the night and you would never know. He said that he would be in contact, but you’re not sure how long you’ll have to wait. Your thoughts are a jumbled mess and it’s oddly quiet. So odd that you sit up a little wondering what’s going on. There’s no dog barking. You dare get excited enough to open the window, finally letting in a cool breeze that you’ve been longing for since the warmer months. You would always drown out the barking by keeping the window closed, but this feels amazing.

You creep into your own bathroom with the lightest of footsteps. Could this actually be happening? There’s no water coming from the facet. No sound of drip. Drip. Drip.

It’s silent. For the first time since you’ve lived here it’s relatively quiet and you jump back in bed suddenly exhausted from today’s big meeting. Images of John float through your mind and you close your eyes and finally sleep.

**

You wake with a newfound energy. How amazing it is to sleep well and get a full night rest. Your body feels lighter and mind alert. You take the time to stretch, breathing in deeply. You actually have time to do things. Usually you lounge around in bed before you have to get up for your shift, resting all you could. It feels good to pick up around the apartment, throw some things away that you don’t want anyone finding...well, after…

There’s a pep in your step when you get to work, plus Gary’s car isn’t in the parking lot. In fact, there’s a strange woman behind the counter bustling around, shoving papers here and there.

“Hi… are you new?” You ask. She’s a nice looking lady, with blue eyes and soft blond hair above her shoulders.

Startled, she turns and smiles. “Hi! No, not really. Well, I’m one of the district managers. Gary suddenly quit so I’m trying to figure out where everything is and what I can do to help. I’m Carla, by the way.”

A slow grin spreads on your lips. “Gary quit? Seriously?”

“Yeah,” she sighs. Still flipping through a stack of papers that you recognize are the schedules for you and your co-workers. “Said he was moving across the country, I’m not sure. Now who are you exactly? I’m sorry, I haven’t met anyone. I came in to open up this morning and I’ve been here all day.”

You introduce yourself politely and offer that she take a break and go to get something to eat or go home. You can handle closing up, after all.

Carla nods and grabs her purse. “You’re sweet, thank you. I remember your name from the records the company keeps on file. Your cash handling skills are great and you’ve never called out. You’ve never had any warnings. How would you like a promotion today?”

You can’t do anything but blink at her.

She laughs warmly at your reaction. “Look, why don’t you think it over, okay? It’s actually not a bad gig. An assistant manager is what I’m looking for. You’d work under me, but you’d be in charge of all the scheduling and hiring. I’d need you to be full time but that means benefits and a raise, of course. There’s a folder on the counter about the training program. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Nodding, you go behind the counter as she leaves through the front door. You’re glad there’s no customers around right now because you just sink into the chair and stare, jacket and backpack still on. You think she must be joking and shake yourself out of it. The folder is blue and laminated with thick paper, very professional. You briefly look at the benefit section in the back. It’s typical medical, dental, vision… and mental health? Therapy and counseling included for a small fee.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore. You’ll have to tell Carla no tomorrow. If you have a tomorrow. You push the folder to the side and pay attention to the flow of customers starting to come in for the after work rush. It stays busy well after the sun goes down and you realize it’s Fourth of July, so it’s busier than normal. You briefly feel sad that this is how you’ll spend your last holiday.

After a quick break when it’s quiet you reach to check your phone. You have a text from an unknown number.

Did you change your mind yet?

You scoff and shake your head. Yet? Yeah right. You type out No and send it back, putting John’s name into your phone first. You wonder if he’ll destroy it after… or hide it with your body… ugh, there was a reason you couldn’t do this yourself. It’s morose.

You’ve already gone through every single emotion though. The turmoil, the grief, the anger, the shame, and finally the acceptance. There’s no talking you out of it now. You don’t have anything that would be worth something, so your stuff will probably be thrown out or donated. You do wonder about the debt and what will happen, but you just don’t think about it too much.

Your phone beeps again a few hours later, as you’re packing up to go home.

Relax. I’m not coming tonight.

A breath you’ve been holding without realizing escapes and you hadn’t known how tense you were the entire night. You think John might be trying to fool you, but you also don’t think that’s his style.

The car ride home is oddly smooth and your car seems a lot less bumpy than usual. Maybe that means it’ll break down soon, you have no idea.

You wonder what will happen to your car after you’re gone. 

**

The next day you have nothing to do in the morning, but you need to do laundry so you head out early with your dirty clothes stuffed in a bag, swung heavily over your shoulder.  You decide to treat yourself on the way to a sweet, rich coffee that tastes so good as you take a long sip. No one is around and you settle in a hard plastic chair to wait after you throw the first wash in the machine.

He could poison me, you think to yourself, staring at your coffee. That’d be a good way to do it. Nice and easy. No witnesses he’d have to deal with. No investigation. That’s what you’re paying him for, right? No messes to clean up.

The door to the laundromat swings open and here comes John himself, almost walking in slow motion in his dark suit, and you feel like you’ve just been punched in the gut. This is how he decides to do it? Now? At the laundry place? Where you’re wearing old clothes and wrinkled underwear? Perfect.

“Hi.” He stands over you, tall and brooding. You notice that he has a faint trace of a black eye and a small cut on his lip.

“This is happening?” You ask, still not really believing your shitty luck. This beautiful man seeing you in such a state of upheaval is embarrassing.

“No. Not right now. I wanted to see if you changed your mind.” John’s voice is stern, determined. His hair is slicked back, making him look intimidating, much more now that you’re both under fluorescent lights rather than the soft sun rays at the park.

Your eyes track down his body, taking in those shoulders and slim waist, long legs in a perfectly fitted suit. “Do you always dress up? Like every day?”

“What?”

You gesture to his clothes. “What’s with all the suits? I mean, you look very nice but this is the cheapest laundromat in the entire city.”

For the first time John really looks around. His eyes had darted past you to the backdoor as he walked in, but otherwise his gaze was completely on you. “I um… I have another job after this.”

“Oh. I didn’t know hitmen were in such demand.”

John clears his throat. “Assassin.”

“What?”

“I’m an assassin.” He says it slowly, making sure you understand. “Not a hitman.”

An assassin? That makes sense, you knew he was too fancy to be a hitman. “What’s the difference?”

Still speaking slowly he says, “A hitman usually gets one target. I get them all.”

“Do you like… shoot guys from a rooftop or something?”

“No, that’s a sniper.”

“Of course. I apologize.” What a completely ridiculous conversation you’re having right now.

He cocks his head at your words and raises an eyebrow.

You take a sip of your coffee. “What?

“You aren’t scared?”

“Of what?” You smile, almost teasingly. “You? No. I kinda knew you were in the business when I hired you, remember?”

“Oh, so I’m your employee?”

You swear he’s almost teasing back and it surprises you because up until now he’s been so serious. You shrug your shoulders though, looking him up and down again. “I mean, I guess. You must be really desperate for that three hundred bucks.” It comes out sarcastic but you can’t help it.

John presses his lips together, disapproving again and sighs. “Why don’t you call this off, huh?”

Sure, work has gotten immensely better and you can actually sleep through the night. Two huge changes all in just two days, but you still have a mountain ahead of you. “I have thousands of dollars in debt, John. I have an ex boyfriend who is literally going to hunt me down in a month. Changing my mind is not an option.”

He unbuttons his suit jacket and puts his hands on his hips, starting to pace.

You sip your coffee again. “I appreciate you asking, but I don’t see a way out so… a deal is still a deal, right?”

You watch as he doesn’t answer and thinks. He really is a good looking assassin. You feel bad that he has to see you in this state of disarray. Beautiful women are probably all over him.

John stops suddenly. “What's the ex boyfriend's name?”

“Huh?”

“His name? Tell me what it is.”

You usually wouldn't in a million years, but you totally lied before because John actually does scare you. “It’s Max. Max Brickson.”

John looks up at the ceiling, like he’s cataloging all the names in his head for something familiar but it doesn’t seem like he knows it. “I’ll take him out instead.”

“Huh?” You haven’t talked to many people lately, wanting to keep to yourself, but usually you can at least articulate actual words.

“I’ll take your money,” John is talking fast now and sits down in the plastic chair next to yours. “And I’ll kill him. Instead of… well, instead of you. Problem solved.”

“Um, problem not solved.” Your voice is squeaky. “What if he hurts you? No way.”

There’s that pensive, disapproving look again. With a flick of his wrist you suddenly see a very sharp knife in his hand. Without even looking he throws it smack in the center of the poison sign on the wall all the way in the back.

“Okay, stupid point.” You swallow thickly because that was awesome and frightening all at once. “But I can’t have someone killed. Are you insane? There’s a difference between doing it to myself and someone else.”

John is rattled with confusion. “But he hurt you? Abused you, probably.”

“So what? No, absolutely not.” You shake your head and cross your legs, giving John your own don’t mess with me right now look.

“Well what if I scare him off? When he gets out? I could come to your place for a few nights, see if he comes around and if he does…”

You narrow your eyes.

“I’ll just beat him up, I swear. That’s all I’ll do.”

He’s lying. You both know it.

“Yeah right.” The plastic chair creaks as you get up to put your laundry in the dryer. “Besides, that still leaves the bills, John. My back hurts, my feet hurt, I’m lonely, I have no one. I don’t have anything to live for. So just forget about it. The deal stays as is. I don’t know why you care anyway.”

The air is weighted with thick tension and he’s up, walking to get his knife that’s still sticking in the wall. He doesn’t say anything as he passes you and slams the door shut after him.

As far as visits to the laundromat go, this was by far the most exciting.

**

It’s been five days and you’re still alive. Yes, you’re less tired and yes, work has been better but still.  You groan at the pile of mail on your table and decide to open the envelopes you’ve just added from emptying your mailbox, probably for the last time.

The first papers you open have red ink all over, littered with the words over due and late. You decide to leave them in a nice pile for whoever will find them, somewhat organized. The next envelope is thinner though and you have to look at it twice. Zero balance. Paid in full.

Great. Some sort of mistake. Something else to deal with. Although, you don’t really have to do anything about it. You toss it on top and clean the kitchen a little, read through one of the free magazines you got from work, but curiosity eventually gets to you.

After twenty minutes of answering questions about your account, the nice lady from the collection agency tells you that your balance is in fact, zero. Not only that, but the other account you have in your name is also at zero. They were both paid two days ago but she can’t tell you what happened.

You have to get to work anyway and you’re still thinking about it when Carla asks you what’s wrong. Telling her briefly about the situation you confide that you’re baffled, but she shrugs it off.

“Your grandma probably had life insurance. Mine did, and my father didn’t find out about it until after she passed. She probably knew how expensive all of this would be for you.” Patting you on the shoulder, Carla’s eyes are full of sympathy as she goes behind the counter to help someone.

You knew all of grandma’s finances though. At least, you thought you did. Maybe she was keeping secrets.

The front door swings open and Sam greets you, “Hey buddy.” He’s a new kid Carla hired a few days ago to help on your off days and he's here for training. He’s still in high school and seems really sweet.

Carla is texting away on her phone and tells Sam to put his stuff in the back and grab a water before getting started. Then she touches your elbow and whispers, “Do you think you could train Sam today? I know you told me no about the assistant manager position, but my daughter is having a meltdown about a boy right now. I’ll make sure to give you a bonus and buy you one of those coffees you like!”

You smile and nod. At least the day will go by faster. “Just the coffee will be fine,” you tell her and she shoots you a grateful look. She tells Sam what’s going on and flies out the front door, both of you giggling at the sight of her dress blowing in the wind.

The night goes really smooth and Sam is goofy, making you laugh more than you can remember. You learned shortly after Carla and you had a conversation a few days ago that Gary had been keeping you on nights alone, saving the salary of the extra person who would have been with you for at least a few hours before closing. He had been doing a lot of things wrong, like not letting you take lunches or refusing to pay you overtime. Carla was shocked when she looked at the logs and it had all stopped immediately.

You feel pretty proud at the way Sam gushes over how you know all the tricks to the register, especially when he locks it up a few times and you know how to troubleshoot it easily. You hope he remembers all these tricks because even the girls from the day shift have to call you sometimes for help.

Before you know it, Sam is leaving and you’re heading out. The ride home is short and your apartment quiet.

You sit at your kitchen table, eyeing the zero balance written in black ink you left on top of the pile of envelopes.

Not red.

Well, fuck.

Your life is kinda good right now. It doesn’t actually royally suck. Yeah, you still have to worry about Max, but you could always take John up on his offer. If you don’t have to use your entire paycheck to pay the credit bills, and you took the promotion, that’d leave you enough to start saving… and maybe buy some new shoes. Maybe you could go to counseling. Get your head back on straight. Maybe go back to school.

Your fingers are cold when you reach for your cell phone. You think that you might change your mind in the morning, but knowing a good sleep is in the cards for you tonight, you decide to just make the call now.

“This is Wick.”

“John?”

“Oh hey… how are you?”

His full name is John Wick and the thought barely processes before you continue to talk. “I think I changed my mind.”

“You think?”

Of course he wasn’t going to let you off that easy. “Fine. I did change my mind. Don’t do it.”

You can hear him smiling through the phone. “This is the first job I’ve ever been fired from.”

“Ah, John. I’m sure you would have done an excellent job. Thanks for not… well, you know. Not doing anything to me yesterday. Or even this morning.” You tell him, tapping the zero on the folded bill with your fingernail. “I appreciate everything, in a really weird way.”

“I didn’t do anything.” He says softly.

“You gave me time. Things suddenly seem to be working out so… yeah.”

John’s voice is kind and you vividly remember him throwing the knife with such force in the laundromat. You’re sad that you’ll never see him again. You wonder if he wasn’t an assassin and if you weren’t such a wreck maybe you could ever be friends. “I’m really happy for you.”

You don’t say anything as you hang up on him. You can tell he’s not one for goodbyes anyway.

**

It takes a few weeks, but therapy is a good look on you. Things that were very black and white in your world suddenly had color. Smiling more and crying less, laughing instead of eating your feelings away. The new job is just challenging enough that you excel at it, but still have time for maybe taking some classes when school starts.

You did buy new clothes, new shoes, and a new mattress. You don’t have enough for a new car yet, but surprisingly it’s running just fine. Turns out your apartment manager only speaks Russian, and simply didn’t understand when you tell him things are broken. Now you have new light bulbs, and new shower head, and new carpet.

Your savings account is slowly growing too. You’ve gone out to lunch a few times with Carla and even helped Sam with his homework once or twice. Your confidence is building and you feel the strength in your mind and body. It’s amazing what can happen when you sleep and pain isn’t throbbing in your back, and the headaches seem to have gone away too.

In fact, you’ve taken up running and currently you’re at a good pace around the lake early this morning. The music is blasting in your ears and the sweat at your brow feels good. You feel alive.

And that’s when you spot him. You’d know that stride anywhere, John being on your mind as a handsome acquaintance instead of an assassin you hired… and then fired.

“Hey! I can’t believe you’re here!” You pull out your earbuds and catch your breath as you take in John’s appearance. He looks different in dark blue jeans and a white t-shirt. He has the cutest bulldog on a leash who is patiently waiting by his side.

“Hi!” He looks almost as surprised as you are. Almost. He smiles widely and puts his hands shyly in his pockets.

“What’re you doing here? You live close by?” You ask, still sucking in air. You’re so out of shape, but you learned in therapy that even ten minutes of movement is a milestone.

“Uh, yeah. I live in Mill Neck.” He points across the lake, towards the nice side of town. You live on the opposite side of the lake.

“Ah, of course. That’s cool.”

“You look nice. You look happy.” John says, still smiling softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

Blushing you glance down at the dog and ignore his words. “Who’s this big guy, huh? Can I pet him?” “Yes, of course.” John replies. “I only got him a few weeks ago actually, still figuring out a name.”

“He looks like a pooch, don’t ya?” You forget John is even there as you crouch down and talk to the dog, who has a beautiful silver blue coat of fur and you laugh as he licks at your chin.

“I think he likes you.” John bends down too and gently pulls the dog away. “Pooch, huh?”

“Well anything’s better than hey dog .” You shrug and stand back up. “He’s really cute.”

“Yeah, I think we get along just fine.” John agrees.

You start to put your earbuds back in and give him a little wave, suddenly feeling awkward. You don’t want to intrude on his walk.

“I’ll be seeing you, maybe?”

John chuckles and bites at his lip. “Not if I see you first.”

What the hell does that mean?  A huge flock of ducks fly down into the lake and you hear the leash pull as John lets out a low sound of a commanding heel, which makes you tingle.

However, it doesn’t faze the dog because he barks. Loudly. And you stop cold. You know the sound of that bark. It’s tattooed in your brain. You turn around slowly and now you shiver all over, but not because of attraction. You slowly stalk back towards John and you can hear him mutter to himself. It sounds like shit. It sounds like he just got caught.

“You stole the fucking dog across from my apartment.” Your voice is low and accusing, a statement because you already know the answer. You lean in close to John, your jaw ticking in anger. “You kidnapped a dog!”

“Shh. Look, come over here.” He leads you to a nearby bench and sits you down.

You feel a panic attack coming and you try to think of what you learned in therapy. The lightheadedness gets to you fast though and John pushes your head between your legs. You’d be embarrassed but you’re too upset. “Oh my God. You did everything, didn’t you? You… you…. Oh my God. I’m so fucking stupid.”

John sits down and tries not to crowd you, but he doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. The dog seems unfazed and curls up at his feet. “He was starving,” John explains, his fingers lightly brushing your elbow. “That’s why he was always barking. He was chained up with no food, only rainwater to drink. No shelter. I couldn’t just leave him there.”

You look at the dog and even now through a panicked haze, you can see that his ribs are sticking out slightly. He’s happily panting and staring down the ducks, completely oblivious of your anxiety.

“Tell me what else. Oh my God, you made them give me a promotion? I couldn’t even do that by myself.”

John pauses and shakes his head. “No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh my God… did you kill Gary?”

“.... no”

“Oh my GOD.”

“I just threatened him.” John’s voice is loud now and he looks around guiltily. You glare at him to start talking and he’s almost whispering. “Really. I didn’t kill him. I went over to his house in the middle of the night when no one else was home and---”

“I don’t want to know.”

“Look, he needed to go. He really was a scumbag. Not kill worthly, but still. The town is better off without him here.”

You look at John in disgust. He’s telling you all of this so calmly. Another thought pops in your mind that makes you sick. “You paid off my debt, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t answer, just sits back on the bench and gazes out to the water.

“Tell me.” Your stomach turns, but you need to know.

He nods once, not looking at you. Avoiding your eyes entirely.

“You asshole.” You mutter, your hands forming into a fist. “You complete asshole.”

He catches you before you can punch his shoulder and forces your arm down with ease. You know he’s holding back his full strength, but you can see his muscles bulge a little under his tight t-shirt. It’s very distracting.

“I thought I was helping. I would have tried to help anyone in your situation. I’m sorry, I should have told you. I didn’t know how.”

Slumping, you sit back too. Well this is a good mindfuck. Your brain starts to function again and the cold sweat from the panic attack is fading. You stare at your new running shoes that are so comfortable. The new purple wristband that shows how far you’ve gone and what your heart rate is at. You even got your haircut at the expensive new salon in the city. It’s so shiny and healthy now.

“I can pay you back.” You whisper, not knowing how long it’ll take. You can’t really return anything you bought, but maybe you can pick up some shifts at work. Get a second job instead of going to school.

John laughs, but nothing is funny and it comes out humorless. “This is not how I wanted you to find out. I had no intention of you paying me back. That was not the deal.”

“Fuck the deal. The deal has changed and I didn’t even know it.” You tell him, still staring at your feet. “Are you really even an assassin? How is this possible?”

“Oh, I’m an assassin,” John says, like he’s been doing it for years. “That homeless guy you gave your number to? He’s an informant for the police. I did my undercover cop friend a favor, he twisted his ankle the morning we met and needed someone to take his place.”

“Uh huh…” You’re starting to feel really dumb now.

“I was never going to kill you.” John continues. “Or anyone, I was just there to get information. Usually when a woman wants a hitman they want parents or husbands dead for the insurance or inheritance money. And you were obviously not a threat, so I told my friend you didn’t show.”

“Obviously.”

John rubs his hands up and down his legs and you’ve never seen him nervous. “I just take care of really bad people, in case you were wondering…”

You weren’t. You were only thinking of yourself. Flooding feelings of shame come crashing down. How could you be so selfish?

“Bad people?”

John mumbles “yes,” and you start thinking about the money again. “I need to pay you back.”

He shifts on the bench and gently guides your chin to look at him. His touch makes you dizzy all over. “Can I tell you something and you really hear it right now? Like, really listen to what I’m going to say to you.”

You nod and meet his eyes, and it doesn’t look like he believes you, but he starts anyway. “I have plenty of money.” His tone is very soft and he’s speaking slowly, like you’re a child. “I don’t need your money.”

“You don’t need my money?” You ask, still not completely with it.

“I don’t need your money.” He confirms. “You’re not going to pay me. If you do, I’ll find a way to get it back to you.”

“Oh my God.” You sit up with a gasp. How could you be so oblivious? “Did you fix my bathroom sink??”

John looks guilty again, hands now falling in his lap. “You needed to sleep. And you need a new lock on your door, it was too easy to break in.”

“And you fixed my car.” You say in a daze, not really listening to him anymore.

“Well, it was easy to steal while you were at work and my friend is a mechanic. All it needed was some new tires and a tune up.”

Your eyes are wide and you blink to keep from screaming at him. “Anything else?”

“No. No, that’s it.”

As if it wasn’t enough.

**

You don’t remember leaving the lake. You barely remember John calling out your name, his fingers grabbing at yours to stay with him.

You do remember getting home and calling your therapist for an emergency session. It took three hours to explain it all. She tried to hide it, but she looked pretty horrified at your plan to hire a hitman. You’ve only seen her a handful of times anyway, and you hadn’t even breached the surface of your problems, let alone get to the part about John. She manages to calm you down, and gives you some coping skills to get through the rest of the day. She also asks if you still plan on hurting yourself, but you can confidently tell her no. You promise when you go home you’ll do some deep breathing exercises that you admit actually do work.

You think any sane person would thank John for doing all he did, but you’re too proud and it pisses you off. No one gets help like that. Everyone should fend for themselves. Fight their own fight. And you had, and you thought you’d figured it out. You didn’t need someone to save you. You were going to escape, however it had to be done.

At the end of another therapy session a few days later, you come to terms with it. You realize John is an adult and acted on his own will. You couldn’t have controlled him or his actions. For some reason he decided to help you and somehow you need to know that maybe you’re worth it. That’s later down the road though, you’re still not ready to see that yet.

You decide on a whim one night to text John that you forgive him and thank him for the things he did.

He sends you back a smiley face emoji and you melt a little more.

**

It’s only been three weeks since the day at the lake when your phone rings with a private number. It’s the officer who arrested Max and helped get him behind bars. He’s being let out tomorrow and Officer Sanders wanted to let you know as a courtesy. You thank him, your throat dry and he tells you to call him immediately if you need help.

You think about John’s offer at the laundromat, but can you really ask him to do something else for you? It’s a little desperate and you’ve become so independent in this last month that the thought really doesn’t sit well. Instead, you berate yourself for not taking self defense classes and briefly consider buying a gun when your phone rings again.

“Your ex is getting paroled tomorrow.” John tells you, before you can even say hello. “I’ll be at your place for a few days. No argument.” Gone is the guilt ridden guy at the park, the assassin is back and you don’t have the guts to tell him no.

“The couch is really uncomfortable.” You try instead and you can almost hear an eye roll.

“Be safe.” And John hangs up.

You lay down on your bedroom floor and reach under your bed for the baseball bat you hid there a long time ago. You could totally take care of yourself and practise a few swings, going a little too hard and somehow you end up with a good size bruise on the top of your foot.

Sighing, you sit down on your bed and come to accept that John Wick, the assassin, is just going to stay with you for a couple days. Not an issue at all. No problem. All very normal.

You tell yourself this over and over, but in the back of your mind you know it’s all lies and denial.

TBC   Chapter 2

[elsanna-shenanigans]

June Contest Submission #13: sound of rain

Words: ca. 5,500 Setting: mAU Lemon: No CW: Angst, incest shame, mentions of driving in storms

What were Anna’s greatest fears, you ask? Well, for starters, she was scared of clowns. And spiders. And those Minecraft icebergs videos on youtube that always played creepy music in the background and promised to not discuss creepypastas of any kind (but were always lying. Those especially kept her up at night).

However, not even the most predictable jumpscare, which always sent Anna falling off her chair like the adult she was, could hold a candle to the way her stomach sank when her mother called that one night at 7 pm. Anna could barely hear her phone below the branches rattling against the windows and the heavy rain loudly splattering on their roof. She’d already been on edge since she heard the wind blowing a little bit harsher than usual. It resembled a woman’s shriek. But when she tiptoed towards her phone (like she did whenever she was spooked), she was thrust into a much more horrifying ordeal, one she’d been trying to avoid every time the chance came up. Her throat went dry. She clenched her fist.

“Anna, love, we won’t be able to make it home tonight.”

They’d leave them alone. The two sisters. Alone at night.

“We’ll stay with some friends. They live only a few blocks away from work.”

Heavy footfalls echoed down the stairs. A wretched feeling clawed at Anna’s stomach. 

“We already told your sister. She’ll take care of you.”

Her sister. Elsa, her sister, who stood now on the bottom of the stairs, staring at Anna without interrupting this one-sided stream of words their mother poured into her ears. The shirt she wore was shoulderless. 

Anna coughed.

“O-oh! Is it really that bad over there?”

“The streets are flooded, love. Crap, I think it’s only getting worse. We’ll leave in the morning as soon as it’s safe.”

Safe. 

Anna swallowed.

“Is that alright? Do you need us? We… we could try to drive there if you’re scared.”

“No!” Anna blurted, startling Elsa. “Wait, what? No-no-no-no, you guys stay there. Elsa and I will be fine, right, Els?” She shot her sister a quick look. Elsa nodded. “We’ll… we’ll have a girl’s night. Paint each other’s nails and stuff. Easy-peasy!”

Elsa nodded again. 

‘Easy-peasy’. Who ever said that? Why would Anna say that? It wasn’t easy-peasy at all.

Anna wasn’t an easily scared person. Sure, she used to snuggle with her sister during the scary parts of Sharkboy and Lavagirl, but that was in the past. She was a very responsible 18-years-old grown-up now. Planning a trip for her gap year once school was over and all. She wasn’t scared of spending a night without her parents, and she wasn’t scared of some rain. She wasn’t even scared of Elsa’s terrible cooking.

Something else that kept her on edge.

There was this boy at school. He was in her class. A senior, like her. He was funny. Cute, even. They liked to hang out during lunchtime and free periods. He was mostly nice to her, but there was this thing he’d said that day, just as a light rain began to fall. Just a tiny thing that stayed with her after school was over. 

Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth.

“Are you trying to stab your meal?” Elsa asked. Anna realized she was holding her knife above the poor tortured pasta. She must have been punishing it without noticing.

“Sorry,” she murmured, then placed the knife down. “I’m just… just…”

She looked up, and her heart sank a little. Her sister’s eyes were downcast, her expression melancholic and somber. She avoided her sister’s gaze.

Anna’s mouth shut.

She’d been getting too caught up in her inner ramblings. 

“Are you alright? You look a bit down.”

Elsa smiled sadly and shook her head. 

“It’s nothing.”

Anna squinted, studying Elsa’s expression. Her lopsided smile, her delicate hands on the table, her avoidant gaze.

“I know what’s wrong. You’re thinking about Honeymaren again.”

Elsa exhaled through her nose. It was that nose-exhale laugh that was barely a laugh, but Anna always counted it as one to add to her mental list of times she made Elsa laugh.

“Is it that obvious?”

“I just know that face. Your secret is safe with me,” Anna promised, with a smile. “Now, spill it. What’s on your mind?”

Elsa shrugged.

“I… don’t know. I feel like I wasn’t honest with her. About… how I felt.”

Anna frowned, but didn’t interrupt.

Elsa breathed deeply. She still avoided Anna’s gaze.

“It wasn’t fair for her. That is all.”

“Don’t you think your sister should know?”

The boy’s voice echoed between her ears. Anna resisted the urge to sweep her head from side to side.

Now she was avoiding Elsa’s gaze, and she was sure she was blushing. It must be visible under the kitchen’s cold light. Her leg began bouncing, almost on its own. It did that when she had too much energy. Or when she was uneasy. 

A bitter feeling settled in her stomach. She could escape from her thoughts for some time but not forever. Everything was a potential reminder.

“Anna.”

Anna’s head snapped up. Her mind went blank for a moment. 

She found her sister’s eyes locked with hers. They were kind. Gentle.

“Thank you for asking,” Elsa said. Anna’s heart gave a leap, because those eyes were on her, and her sister was gazing at her and that was such an unbelievable honor, to be seen by this wonderful woman. 

Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth again. She clenched her teeth. She gulped audibly. Her vocal cords seemed to be tied up.

In that moment, the need to tell her everything seized her. It was the need to be honest with Elsa and the need to get it out of her mind. She craved comfort and reassurance.

She had Elsa’s full attention, but no matter how much Anna wanted it, she held herself back.

Instead, she smiled and stood up.

“Come on. I’ll do the dishes.”

Because here’s the thing: Anna was a loving, caring, protecting soul. She liked listening to boys at school complain about their many brothers. She liked hearing about her parents’ work. She even liked hearing Elsa talk about her crushes, her fears, her college classes, or her ex-girlfriends. As she saw it, providing a safe space and a willing ear was a big part of loving others,

Another big part of loving others was knowing when to keep quiet.

There simply were issues you wouldn’t discuss with some of your friends. That’s just a fact. You probably wouldn’t gush about boys or girls with your grandma, and you wouldn’t ask your friends in sophomore year for help setting up a bank account. Ever since Honeymaren, Anna had been careful not to burden Elsa too much. She didn’t tell her about her falling-out with her best friend, Kristoff, or about her doubts and anxieties concerning college. Right now, Elsa needed peace and support.

Likewise, some matters belonged in the therapist’s office, and not in family dinners. 

Anna wasn’t easily scared. This wasn’t fear. It was logic. It was making the smartest decision. Doing the right thing for the people you love. 

Doing the dishes was soothing. Under the hard splash of the water, she could almost drown out the memory of the boy’s words (“You do know you’re obvious, right? Does she know you’re this obsessed with her?”) and the rough rain hitting the roof. It was getting louder. Heavier. She wondered if power would go out. She wondered if her parents were alright half a city away.

“We should call them before heading to bed,” Elsa commented. Anna’s twisted mind extrapolated some very wicked thoughts out of Elsa’s wording.

“Y-yeah,” she agreed, and her mind couldn’t come up with anything smarter to say, so she bit her lip and decided to leave it at that instead of clumsily rambling and risking saying something she didn’t mean. 

Elsa waited for her to finish washing. It was awkward. Of the two, Anna was the only one who knew how to maintain a conversation (under normal circumstances, but sharing space with Elsa hadn’t felt like a normal circumstance in a very long time). So, Elsa, unable to come up with a thing to say, simply paced around the kitchen until Anna was done. She didn’t know why. Anna wasn’t providing much of a spectacle. 

They headed to bed a few minutes later. A strong wind had joined the rain in their torment, and they both mockingly swirled around the house and scratched the walls and windows with their twig-claws and their cloud-shawls. If you looked out the window, you wouldn’t see an inch of asphalt on the streets: they were completely hidden by a glistening layer of rainwater. If you opened the window, you’d hear the vertiginous slosh of water against water. When Anna was fourteen, she and her family had gone to see the Niagara Falls (Elsa had held her hand the entire time), and the sheer thunderous loudness could put this city rainfall to shame, but it was the closest comparison Anna could find. It was harsh. It was maddening. It was growing louder and Anna’s gut was twisted into a tighter and tighter knot. 

She gulped and decided not to look out the window.

She shot Elsa a quick half-assed goodbye and locked herself in her room, and then she sighed.

Safe at last.

Her room was a mess, but it was her mess. The kind of mess you would describe as encrypted data if you knew how encrypted data worked. Whatever. The point was that only Anna, with the use of her unique knowledge of her room’s jungle, could find lost phones, hairbands and socks among the piles of clothes and half-finished paper crafts scattered around the floor and on the carpet, which had been folded in half when Anna tripped over it, and she’d never brought herself to fix it. The boy band posters and continental maps on her wall were all about to fall off and her poor Duolingo Owl plushie somehow ended up under her bed. She rescued him, sat cross-legged on her bed, and hugged him to her chest, seeking some warmth and comfort. It… it was growing quite cold. She’d need to find another blanket. Somewhere.

She sent her parents a quick goodnight text, read some Supernatural fanfiction on her phone for a few minutes, and gave another try to her Duolingo course after being harassed by the feral green bird a little. She tried everything to distract herself from this odd empty feeling in her stomach.

It wasn’t that she was scared. Okay, sure: the loud whistling wind and the heavy rain did make her nervous, but that was ridiculous. She had no reason why. The one time her family had been stuck in a storm like this, they’d been driving down the road, in the dark, in the rain. A light flashed before them (a driver with broken headlights), and her dad hit the brakes. The wheels slid across the water. He lost control for a moment, her mother yelped, the car accelerated out of control and…

And then her father took control again. He’d steered the wheel in just the right way and drove them home safely. Anna didn’t even remember being scared back then. It had been like a rollercoaster for her, and she loved those. 

Her sister didn’t deal with it as nicely. She had an anxiety attack and refused to get in the car for the following week. Anna had decided to join her mutiny in solidarity, and they ended up walking to school together for some time. Anna wasn’t sure how she did it, but her mere presence and support seemed to calm Elsa’s nerves, even if they were only eleven and fourteen at the time, and neither knew what to do in scary situations.

Funnily enough, Anna wouldn’t say she knew any better at eighteen. Elsa was older, so hopefully she did. Hopefully, she’d figured out the way. 

Those were the main thoughts coursing through her mind when she heard her sister knock on her door.

“Anna? Are you awake?”

Anna… kind of froze. She gripped her plushie and faced the side of her room opposite to the door. Oh, what should she say? Was Elsa worried? Had she given her a reason to worry?

“No, I’m not!” Anna shouted back. Yes, alright. That would communicate she was awake if Elsa needed her, but she didn’t want to get up, all tied up with a little bit of humor to quell whatever anxieties were tormenting her big sister this time.

Anna’s anxieties, however? They squeezed her heart like a hand. Squeeze and release. Squeeze and release. Like a stress ball. Pounding blood. Into her ears. It was harsh and maddening.

A pause.

“I just wanted to say… if you need anything, I’ll be in my room.”

Anna nodded, even though Elsa couldn’t see her.

“Thanks!” 

Her own voice sounded so loud. So hysteric. Was she hysteric? She felt hysteric. Too loud. She was vaguely aware of Elsa’s footsteps retreating.

Her heart sprang painfully. She’d worried her. She didn’t mean to worry her, yet at the same time hearing her leave only filled her with deeper desperation. The wind howled outside. It shook the whole house. Rain seeped through every nook and cranny. Power would go out. Anna was sure of it. What if a cable post was knocked down by the wind? What if a tree did? There was one right next to Anna’s room. If the wind blew in just the right way it could crush her. 

She curled deeper into her covers. Oh, how she wished Elsa had kicked down the door and entered Anna’s room unannounced. She wished Elsa had stayed with her.

There had been a time in which Anna felt very safe in her sister’s arms, before she started to turn into something else. Back then, her hugs felt so warm and gentle and loving, like nothing could harm her as long as she stayed there. With time, her brain began to give them a different resignify them into something less wholesome. Something more… erotic. Anna couldn’t remember the last time she’d dared to embrace her sister.

When had that happened? Was it when Anna was in middle school and she began to admire her sister a bit more than usual for girls her age? Did she turn into what she was now when she realized what it meant? Was she born with it?

Anna was a brave girl, but the idea of being “born with it” was the most terrifying of all.

“You’re so obvious, Anna.”

It was stronger than her.

A low rumble in the distance. Loud. Louder. Followed by a flashing light.

Her heart stopped. Lungs stopped. Throat dried. Wind screamed and Branches rattled. Her muscles burned with tension as she gripped her plushie to her chest.

…Well, Elsa wasn’t coming for her. But she did offer an invitation. And… and she wouldn’t have to do anything. Anna would just sit there. In her room. It wasn’t odd or concerning for people to be anxious during storms. It was such a small and harmless weight to dump on Elsa’s shoulders, nothing at all like the words brewing at the bottom of Anna’s throat. Not a burden. Not something disturbing, scary, off-putting.

So she slid her legs off the bed, opened the door, and carefully tip-toed across the hallway, still holding the plushie, and then she knocked on Elsa’s door.

It took a moment.

“Come in.”

Anna sighed dramatically. She hesitated, but twisted the doorknob regardless and quietly slipped in.

Elsa’s room was nothing like hers. For starters, she had a huge periodic table on her wall. That should say enough about her place of dwelling. Still, cool science stuff aside, Anna could never help but notice the adorable baby pink bed covers on her bed, always so neatly laid, or her pristine wooden floors, the family photos hanging on the wall, on every spot free from scientific stuff and broadway posters. She had all of her hockey trophies arranged on a shelf, and a few embroidery supplies on her desk. On her bedside, there was a tiny door frame with a picture of her and Anna, on that Niagara Falls vacation. They looked so tiny and childish and innocent. 

Elsa was already in bed, but she was sitting up and turning on the bedside lamp as soon as Anna entered. She wore a slightly-too-flattering white nightgown. 

“Anna?” 

Her gentle raspy voice broke Anna out of her thoughts. She blinked.

“Uh?”

“Is everything alright?” Elsa asked. Her loose hair was flawless. How could her hair be so flawless?

“Y-you mean me? Yes! Yes, I’m… totally good,” she stammered, then shifted on her feet, wrung her hands together and said: “I just… I-it’s pretty rainy outside, isn’t it?”

Elsa opened her mouth to speak, but then another crash of thunder shook Anna’s eardrums, and next thing she knew, she was cowering under Elsa’s covers like a scared puppy. Head hidden and all. 

Her sister chuckled and stroked Anna’s head through the blankets.

“Are you still totally good?”

“…Maybe?” Anna squeaked. “I-I think I’ll be more good here.”

She could almost feel Elsa’s grin as her hand drifted down to pet Anna’s back.

“You know, I was wondering when we’d have a sleepover again,” she commented. “I worried you may think we’re too old for them.”

Anna’s head shot up from her blanket cocoon.

“What? You’re never too old for sleepovers!” She declared, at the outrageous claim. That got a laugh out of Elsa, and it was so beautiful and graceful, knowing she’d caused it made Anna’s heart soar.

“Then come here.” She laid down again, and Anna’s stomach flipped when she reached a hand across the bed and over her body. Eyes wide, brain dead, she could barely process what was going on until Elsa asked: “Do you want me to turn off the light?”

Oh. Oh, right. Yeah. The light.

Anna nodded. The whole goal was to fall asleep, after all. She, uh, she’d be fine without the light.

The lights went out with a click. 

Elsa settled in bed. 

Anna exhaled. 

Without any sound other than Elsa’s breathing, the swoosh of the leaves and the whistling of the wind felt louder. There were more trees on Elsa’s side. No shit they were louder. Their branches swatted and scratched the poor tortured window.

The thunder was getting closer.

It echoed louder every time. Closer every time. And it sounded more angry and violent than before. Anna’s heart found solace in Elsa’s closeness but it still wasn’t enough. 

Elsa seemed unaware of Anna’s growing restlessness. She needed a bit more.

“Elsa?” She whispered. Her sister hummed in response— a question. Anna could hear herself say the words in her mind but they sounded so pathetic and obvious she couldn’t bring herself to pronounce them— sisters didn’t say these things—, so instead, she just scooched closer, still hugging the plushie close as a barrier between her and Elsa, and an excuse to not wrap her arms around her. She timidly tucked her head under her chin.

Shame hit her right away— she was taking advantage of her sister’s ignorance. If she knew the truth, she’d never let her so close. Your family was meant to be your safe place. A refuge where you weren’t seen as a meal or an object of desire. Was this not the greatest form of betrayal? When you sought your family for safety and comfort, and they crossed the ultimate line by… by…

Elsa sighed and wrapped her arms around Anna, pulling her close. One of her hands delicately tangled into her hair.

For a moment, there was silence. And warmth. An unbreakable sense of love and security. All Anna could hear was Elsa’s beating heart and her breathing. Then, a kiss on the top of her hair.

“It’s okay, Anna,” she murmured. Anna blinked. Then blinked again. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t say a word. Elsa squeezed her tighter. “I got you,”

Anna’s eyes brimmed with tears. She held her breath and covered her mouth. It wasn’t true. It wasn’t right. Elsa didn’t know and she couldn’t know. It would hurt her so much, and all Anna wanted was to see her happy. And saying it out loud would mean it was true. That she could no longer hide from it. She had truly turned into something unredeemable. 

She thought of that photo of them, when they were little. 

When had that changed? When had she changed?

She shouldn’t be so close to her. This had been a huge mistake.

She sniffled.

“I’m sorry.”

She barely heard herself over the sound of rushing blood in her ears.

Elsa stiffened.

“For what?”

She sounded curious and worried at the same time, and Anna really should have shut her mouth, really shouldn’t have said anything at all. She was a hypocrite. She knew bringing this up was a horrible thing to do. 

“Is it because you came looking for me?” Elsa asked. Now Anna had to give her answers. Any kind of answer. She shouldn’t. She shouldn’t tell anything to anyone. This was her burden to carry and forcing someone else beneath it was cruel. 

She nodded. Elsa’s hand kneaded her shoulder.

“You don’t have to be sorry for that.”

Anna shrugged her shoulders up to her ears. She was a hypocrite. A hypocrite. She remembered that time on a week-long school trip when, texting Elsa late into the night, she’d asked her if he was okay. Was she okay? Realization of her feelings had hit right as she was leaving and it now plagued her every thought like a leech latched onto her heart. She couldn’t tear them out. The trip was supposed to be fun but all she could do was roll her thoughts over in her head, disseminating them like frogs, desperately trying to find proof that she was still herself, that she wasn’t changing, that she could have these feelings for someone else, that he could have a future. And then Elsa sent her a text— “I miss you”— and Anna couldn’t keep her hands to herself. She shouldn’t have replied at all. But they talked and talked and talked until Elsa noticed something was off and asked about it and Anna wrote “I’m just scared because I feel something I shouldn’t and I always thought I was good and clean and safe to be around but I’m scared I may be sick and gross and I don’t know what to do I think I may die if this is true and I don’t want anyone to know and I’m so sorry I’m scaring you with this I shouldn’t be telling you this at all and I feel like a hypocrite telling you all of this—.”

She’d deleted the whole wall of text.

“I’m just a bit sleepy.”

Then she tried to go to sleep. 

It should have been enough, shouldn’t it? Putting her thoughts into words helped her down the panic spike. Coming back home wasn’t as torturous as she’d feared. Seeing her sister wasn’t paralyzing or incapacitating. They could still play Mario Kart and watch bad Netflix originals together and sometimes, she could convince herself she’d been scared for nothing. The intensity dissipated. She felt safe again.

Then the panic came back. 

Lightning flashed again and her whole body tensed up, as if struck herself. Elsa’s hand rubbed circles on her back. 

“Anna,” she said. “Are you sure that’s all?”

Anna’s breath hitched. 

“I-I…”

She couldn’t.

Elsa wouldn’t force her. She knew that. Anna only had to say she didn’t want to talk about it, and she’d drop it. She had the power here. 

Yet her jaw was stuck open.

She heard thunder again. She’d come into Elsa’s bed in her own volition. She didn’t feel scared of thunder in her arms.

She could drop it. She could let the panic spike pass, but it would always come back, until she left forever (hopefully), until Elsa was nothing but a painful distant memory, but that wouldn’t make any of them any happier. A gaping wound left untreated. 

No! No! She couldn’t tell her the truth! She couldn’t admit to being the kind of person who shows up in the news for others to morbidly gawk at, the kind of people who hurt their own flesh and blood, who hurt the people who trusted them the most. Her sister would try her damn hardest but she’d never be able to look at her in the same way. She wasn’t just ill. She was becoming part of the illness itself. It defined her whether she liked it or not. 

She’d never tell anyone. But if she never told anyone, she feared the illness would never heal. That the panic would never go away for good. Oh, it would be so much easier if Elsa forced her to confess, if she had no choice at all. She wanted her to knock down her door, insist until Anna had nowhere to escape and then embrace her and promise she’d love her forever, regardless of what Anna changed into. 

But Elsa didn’t insist after her original question. She waited silently for Anna to speak.

And someday, she’d stop asking, because she knew Anna wouldn’t reply.

One day, she’d stop knocking on her door and wait for Anna to come looking for her instead.

One day, she may even believe Anna was alright, and withdraw her offer of support. Then what kind of terrifying things would Anna have to do to feel her arms around her again?

Was that what she wanted?

Yes.

No.

No. 

One of her hands released the plushie and gripped Elsa’s nightgown.

“I need to tell you something,” she choked out.

Elsa’s hand on her back stopped.

“I’m here,” she reassured her, and Anna nearly sobbed.

She inhaled very deeply.

“I had a talk with this boy at school today, and I’ve been thinking about it all day.” She screwed her eyes shut. “I think there’s something wrong with me. F-for some time. I feel things that aren’t like me. Like… Like they’re things someone else would feel. And what does that say about me!?”

“I’m… sorry, I don’t think I understand,” Elsa said.

“Right,” Anna sniffled. “I’m sorry. I know this is coming out of nowhere and…”

“No, no, no!” Elsa quickly sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. “I want to hear you. What do you need?”

Anna’s heart swelled with love. How could she so easily capture her affections all over again?

She sat up with her. Their legs dangled down the bed. Elsa had some very pretty legs.

“I…” her heart pounded so quickly. “I feel things that are… wrong. And I don’t know how I could have these feelings! I really don’t want them. I want…” She wanted to be good. At school, at home, with her friends, she wanted to be the funny one. The cute one. The kind one. This huge stain in her heart changed that. It made her feel like a liar. “I feel like I’m not… me. Like this is so wrong I-I’m gonna disappear.”

Elsa breathed, slowly.

“It feels like a loss of identity,” she concluded. 

Anna nodded. A complete loss of the self. 

“Exactly,” she exhaled. Then she gulped. Her heart punished her ribs and it hurt but it had been easier than she thought.

A huge weight was lifted off her shoulders.

Elsa frowned, and looked Anna in the eye.

“Anna… listen. Whatever it is that you’re feeling, you’re still you.”

Her gaze was piercing and hard and protective and Anna could feel her throat go dry.

“But…”

“No. I want you to listen.” Elsa grasped her hands, and only then seemed to notice the plushie Anna had brought along. She smiled at it. “Do you remember why I got you this?”

“Because you were making fun of me?”

“Only slightly. I saw it in a store and remembered how excited you were about learning korean for your boy bands.”

“Their music is good! People are just mean.”

Elsa chuckled. They’d gone over it a million times already.

“I remember how you went over twelve different instruments in elementary school, until you discovered you preferred singing. I wish you would sing to me someday.”

Anna’s face burned. 

“That would be very embarrassing.”

“I think you would be lovely.”

She had to duck her head and avoid Elsa’s gaze this time.

“You always liked arts and crafts, too. But you want to study social sciences in college. You always loved history, too. I still have that book about brave women of history somewhere. You had me read Joan D’Arc’s story out loud before you could read on your own. That one was always your favorite. You also kept a spider as a pet below your bed for a month because you said spiders deserved love, too, and you have maps hanging on your room because you want to travel the world, and you’re still deciding where to go on your gap year.” Elsa brushed her cheek with the back of her knuckles. Her stomach twisted and leaped. It was vertiginous. “You’re so much more than what you think you may feel, and I don’t think you’ve changed at all.” She tucked her hair behind her ear— “You’re so beautiful, Anna—,” and took a deep breath. “It’s why I fell in love with you.”

Anna blinked. Then frowned. Her mouth opened and closed. She looked at Elsa looking for a hint that she may be kidding but she looked so serious and shy and hopeful— but she was into acting after all, wasn’t she?

Anna coughed. 

“Thank you.”

Elsa gave her a confused look.

“For what?”

“For trying to make me feel better”

Her frown deepened.

“You think I’m lying to you?”

Crap.

“Wait, what? That's… wait, that’s not what I meant.”

“I’m trying to be honest with you!”

Anna shook her head.

“But… but…” 

Elsa watched her, waiting. She was so elegant and regal and beautiful and human. 

“But you’re so perfect!”

Elsa averted her gaze.

“I’d doubt that,” she said. Her chest heaved. “I’m… Anna, I’m telling you this because… hold on, I’m understanding this correctly, right?” Fear crossed her eyes. “You feel the same way?”

Anna’s brain whirred like a train out of rail.

“Y-you mean…?”

Elsa nodded.

She gulped. Her stomach sank with shame. She covered her face.

“I didn’t want you to find out.”

“No, no, I’m…” Elsa vacillated. She was just as lost. “I’m glad you told me.”

…Okay, alright, alright. Anna needed to take a deep breath. And drink some water.

“I’m gonna get some water,” she said.

It took her like half an hour to find a bottle (one she wisely spent internally freaking out, because her sister felt the same way hersisterfeltthesamewayhersisterfeltthesameway), and when she returned, Elsa was right where she left her, sitting on her bed, staring at the periodic table on her wall and quietly reciting each element to calm herself down.

She had no business being so adorable.

“…So, you feel the same way?” Elsa asked a few moments later, after they both exchanged the bottle a few times.

“Yeah,” Anna replied. It felt thrilling and terrifying and liberating to say it out loud. “And you’re not…?”

“I’m not lying to make you feel better,” Elsa promised, leaning in and smiling at her. “I-I truly can’t believe it.”

Anna choked on her water, like a genius hersisterfeltthesameway—

“I can’t believe it either.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin when Elsa’s hand fell on hers, and it took her a second to realize this was permission— an invitation— her sister felt the same way— and she was allowed to squeeze back. 

“W-what does this mean?” She asked. “I mean… what now?”

“It doesn’t mean we need to be in a relationship,” Elsa stated. The mere mention of a relationship nearly gave Anna a heart attack (the good kind). “We should… We should think things through. Take our time.” She glanced at the curtains. “It’s late. We can talk in the morning.”

“Y-yeah. You’re right.”

Neither of them moved. 

Then, Elsa’s thumb trailed over Anna’s cheekbone, shily brushed over her chin. Warmth spread across Anna’s stomach and heart, and under Elsa’s loving, approving gaze, for once she felt like herself.

Her sister felt the same way.

“Can I kiss you?”

It was an unexpected surge of courage— she must be high on it. The words felt like dipping below the waves, like the vertigo of looking over the railing and watching the water fall.

Elsa smiled, shyly, nervously, and with a hooked finger guided Anna forward.

She’d never touched something so soft, so kind and gentle. She’d never felt so safe and loved. 

“You’re still you.”

Still me.

She tightened her grip on Elsa’s hand. 

The kiss was chaste. They pulled away. Hearts racing. So quickly. So loudly. They couldn’t even hear the rain.

Elsa beamed.

“Come on.” She tugged at her hand. “Let’s go to sleep.”

Perhaps it was raining outside. Anna couldn’t hear it. She could only hear Elsa’s rapid happy heart against her ear. Her eyes misted over but for an entirely new reason. She squeezed her sister’s waist.

“I love you, Elsa.”

She could almost hear Elsa’s heart picking up speed.

“I love you too.”