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#like all things there is no universal formula
inarvii · 1 day
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₊˚.- NEEDLES AND PINS
Patience breeds success. However, Dr. Veritas Ratio's patience has successfully run thin when it comes to the Intelligentsia Guild's new professor.
OR
Dr. Ratio hate reads about you.
wc - 3.4k
A/N - Basically a Dr. Ratio character study, inspired by the Deftones song Needles and Pins.
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Veritas Ratio was a Needle. 
At least, that is what he saw himself as. He was sharp, precise, and calculated. One had to be in this world full of ignorant minds. 
His known prestige amongst scholars was by no accident. Every equation, formula, and theory engraved into his mind was nothing he didn’t want there. His reputation at the Intelligentsia Guild was by no fault other than his own. And he liked it this way. 
So when Dr. Veritas Ratio’s curiosity peaks, he will seek out information regardless of what stands in his way. It just so happens that the rumor of a Genius Society member abandoning their ranking to join the Intelligence Guild not only piques his interest but puzzles him quite a bit. 
Everything Veritas Ratio has ever done—ever accomplished was with intent. That’s just what a needle does. 
And as he reads the passage before him in the worn textbook he fished out of the bookshelves at his university, he intends to figure out your perplexing nature. 
“…and discovered five different constellations that are now crucial to Intercosmic Space Travel, earning the name of the ‘Star Lit Genius’ just after finishing her Associates.”
- Excerpt from Exploring the Starlit Genius
A fool. 
Ratio closes the bulky biography with a booming thud. The echo can be heard bouncing off the walls of his office. 
That is what you were. That is your nature. 
A fool is the only description he can think of as he sharply brings his fingers to his lips. Questions bubble inside him, but the one that escapes himself is, “Why?” 
Why would anyone do such a thing? The mere thought that someone could leave the Genius Society was baffling. Sure, there probably were some that had left, but that had to be Amber Eras in the past. 
It wasn’t ignorance it was foolishness. Perhaps he was right about Genius Society members having a rock up their asses. There was truly nothing that separated them from the mundane, such as himself. They were just as equally subjected to idiocy. 
But could you do such a thing?
You. A scholar blessed by Nous! Given a chance—an opportunity. 
He scoffs, his head jerking to the side as if catching himself in an act. 
He shouldn’t care. 
He doesn’t care. 
He’s over that. 
Ratio sighs and shakes his head. He doesn’t care. You were foolish, that’s all. It was nothing more. 
But who might this fool be? 
Ratio’s cold finger travels around the textbook's hardcover. He quickly flips through the pages. Frustration is evident on his face as his brows furrow the more pages he turns. 
Yet, there’s nothing. 
There’s not one picture of you—the fool—that perplexes his mind. Of course, there wouldn’t be. The Genius Society's “holy” standing wouldn’t allow that. So, he’ll just have to wait for the day he meets the deluded “genius.” 
“Immediately after finishing her Associates, the Star Lit Genius earned funds from the IPC for her findings, causing the young brilliant mind to venture more deeply into the cosmos.”
- Excerpt form Exploring the Starlit Genius
Time had passed and life went on. It had been a month since Veritas’ initial read of your biography. He had learned much. Such as your main fields of anatomy, pathology, chemistry and of course astronomy. Little details of your past are stored neatly in the back of the Doctor’s mind, but he has had no use for it. The new semester had started and as time went on he too started to carry on. The new semester started and students plagued his mind instead, yet a star glittered somewhere near. 
“Dr. Ratio.”
It’s no voice he’s familiar with. Or maybe one he’s just not accustomed to yet. Most likely a new student in one of his classes.  
He doesn’t even bother to look up. Instead he continues to shuffle through his papers with equations and calculations of the new curriculum that he would soon ignore altogether in his lessons. 
He sighs. “Students are to ask questions during the appointed time.” His voice lacks any interest whatsoever. 
He was tired of students who seemed to think they were special. If anything, the unfamiliar voice is probably a student coming to butter him up before the semester starts to get on his good side. 
“Oh, I’m not a student.” Your voice isn’t familiar, but the syllables that roll off your tongue are ever engraved into his mind. His inner consciousness has read the name so much that he can envision the letters.  
Before he looks up, a smug grin shows on his face. Finally, he could put the foolish mind to the face. It was a gift, really. You, coming straight to his door. You had done all the work for him. 
But then he takes his first look at you. 
Veritas Ratio isn’t one to be rendered speechless, but his surprise is evident. His grin drops at the look of you. Before, he had imagined that he should have put on his mask of marble to forbid his eyes from the sight of such a foolish person. But now his frustrations were fueled even more by the undeniable fact that a fool could look like…you. 
“Professor Alvarez said you would be the person to go to regarding any Physics textbooks,” you say, and Ratio comes back to reality as your voice vibrates around the large space. You stand in the wide door frame, hands held together in front of you. 
“Ah,” he chokes out. “Our new professor.” He quickly gets up to walk to the bookshelf behind him to rid the sight of you. His steps are light but eager; however, his back stands straight, and his head is held high. This was it? This was the fool he had read about? What a pity, he thinks as he climbs a few steps up the ladder of the bookshelf. Looks wasted on a simpleton. 
Ratio tries to change the topic of conversation while trying not to show his evident surprise. “Say, what does an astronomer have that warrants the need for physics?” He questions. 
You're quick to answer. “Well, the two are connected, I’m sure you’re aware.” 
He is aware—he’s well aware. But he’s also aware of his unwelcomed knowledge of your hatred for anything purely mathematical in any sense, especially physics, which you loathe the most. He even remembers the page clearly in chapter twenty-six, section fou—but that's beside the point. His ever-growing facts about you are a card he cannot yet play. He has only gazed at you for a mere eight seconds. So for now, he will keep his mouth shut. 
“I am,” he says confidently, a slight hint of offense in his voice. “Professors here, however usually tend to their specific fields rather than branching off.” His fingers trace the spine of the dusty books before carefully selecting one and then another. 
“One of my students is infatuated by the correlation of the two. It’s something that I had no interest in during my years of studying.” The sound of you shuffling your feet bounces off the walls. “I’m forced to learn now I suppose.”
“Whatever for? You’re no physicist,” he scoffs.  His hand lingers around a book as he debates himself in his mind. 
“To answer my students' questions, of course,” you answer without a second thought. 
A genius interested in the pursuit of other’s knowledge. Ratio’s frustrations physically manifest in the form of a silent sigh.  An anomaly you were. An Irritating one at that. 
He picks up the book.  
He doesn’t say anything as he descends the ladder—or when he walks to where you stand with an uninterested look on his face. He simply plops the books in your hands with a quick “Here.” Their weight jolts you down briefly. 
“Some of these are limited or editor's copies.” His eyes meet yours for the first time since you came in. “Do try not to dirty them.”
He turns to walk back to his desk, but the sound of your voice stops him. 
“Which is your favorite?”
Ratio turns to walk back to you as he looks you up and down. His fingers fish between the books in your arms, and he pulls out one. It’s encased in golden leather. He lifts it up to hold it out in front of you. 
Your hand grazes the hardcover. You look at it, eying the author. ‘Professor Emeritus.’ You look up at him with a hint of playfulness in your eyes. It makes him uneasy—like the breath has been sucked out of his lungs. But then you have the nerve to smile at him, and he can feel himself getting hot. 
“Thank you,” you say, and you turn away. 
His mind races. His heart beats a bit faster. It’s only when the click of your heels are out of earshot and when the doctor is trying to recover in his desk chair that he realizes he’s forgotten to tell you when to bring them back. 
“...the only way to transcend the limitations of the individual is to have an academic network of mutual learning.”
- Intelligentsia Guild 
He ignores you. 
That’s not to say he doesn't see you. Of course, he does. How could one not see you? It has turned into a game over the past two weeks. He must spot you first to make sure you do not spot him. 
So he does just that. 
He has no use conversing with a Genius Society member turned idiot. He simply gave you those books to help the students you were teaching, nothing more. 
So he carries on with his usual routine of avoiding you. Until, there’s a pile of books with ribbon wrapped around them at his office door. But there’s only three of them. 
Ratio quickly picks up the stack of books and unlocks his office door. When at his desk, he finally notices the note placed neatly between the book and ribbon.  
Thank you for letting me borrow these. They were very insightful. I have saved your recommendation for last. I will bring it back once I have finished it.  
He examines your handwriting—your signature—and how the way you write your A’s and H’s differ from him. 
As Ratio revels in the fact that you took his word at face value, he examines the books. His fingers caress the covers and flip through the pages.  
You made sure not to dirty them. 
“To grow and excel as a Scholar is to reconsider. A Hypothesis that is drawn due to stubbornness and ignorance is a hypothesis from no mind worth listening to.” 
- Professor Emeritus in “Attentive Beings” 
“Come in,” Ratio replies to the three knocks on his study door. This time, he looks up from his reading as soon as he hears the heels click on the polished wooden floor. 
You smile at him—book held in hand. 
He greets you with another disinterested look as he turns his head back to the papers in front of him. “Did you enjoy it?” 
“I certainly did,” you call out. Although he doesn’t look at you, he can hear you walk slowly around his office. He lets out a sigh as he writes down something. 
But then your heels click too close to the round table by the window in the corner of his study, and his mouth grows dry. He looks up as he watches you eye the books he had left open on the table, and put the book you had borrowed down. Your fingernails graze the papers slowly, and you turn the page. 
“You read about me?”
Ratio’s throat closes up at your question as he scurries to organize the files and loose sheets of paper before him just to occupy his hands. He puts a fist to his lips and clears his throat. “I simply wanted to know more about the new Professor who would teach some of my former students,” he affirms boldly. 
“It’s okay.” your eyes lift up from the pages and turn to him with a smile. “I read about you too.” 
He’s not surprised. He shouldn’t be surprised. Any good scholar would do that. But something stirs inside him still. His stomach flips from…excitement. This odd feeling goes unnoticed by you as the doctor quickly covers himself with his swift response “Is that so?” 
“Mhm,” you hum. You grab the book and slowly make your way closer and closer to his desk—to him. “Your quite the mathematician,” you smile. “…and philosopher.” 
His arms fold and his eyes trail your figure as you approach. 
“So tell me, after reading this thing.” You hold up the book. “What’s your ‘philosophy’ on me?” 
He sits there in silence looking at you. 
“Please, Doctor,” you smirk. “Tell us your verdict on the new professor.” 
He’s still hesitant. But the look you give him is like fire on his skin, and he wants to rid of it. So he speaks. “Fine, if you must know.” He lets out an exasperated sigh. 
“You’re a fool. Through and through.”
“Is that so?”
“The evidence is clear.”
“Do elaborate, Doctor.” 
 He sighs again. What has he gotten himself into? “You’re an astronomer.” 
“That I am,” you smirk. Oh, he hates that smirk of yours. That smile of yours. That face of yours. 
“Your an astronomer that hates physics.” Ratio stand subtly and makes his was round his desk to you. “Quite absurd actually.” He crosses his arms and you shift your body to look him in the eye. “You have no interest in anything mathematical when math is the foundation of all that ever was and will ever be.” 
“Mhmm.” And there’s that smirk again as you look up at him. 
“You’ve done mounds of research, and any organization would want you.” His voice is booming and stern as if he were lecturing one of his students. “Yet, you pick the IPC of all things to give your work to.” 
You're a star, you blaze. Yet you choose to be mediocre like him. It's infuriating.
You nod, and he takes a step closer to you. His brows furrow in frustration, and his finger points down at you. 
“And the cherry on top is that you’ve chosen to stray from the Erudition and-“
“Leave the genius Society,” you finish. 
Your voice strikes him. He flinches backward and his back stiffens. You’re toying with him. He wonders if it is something he’s opposed to. 
“Is that why you dislike me, Veritas?”
He’s opposed to it, he concludes. He steps back, and his arms go to his chest once more. “Dislike?” He lets out an exclaimed scoff. “I barely know you, Professor.” He lets the last word roll off his tongue like an insult. 
You hold up the book in your hands and read the title to yourself. ‘Exploring the Starlit Genius’ 
“Barely?” You ask. 
“Nonsense,” is all he can claim as he returns to his desk. 
You lean over it, your spread ou hands creating a mess of his once neatly placed papers. “You make a conscious effort not to meet my eyes around here.”
Ever the observant one you were. But he denies it. “Our paths must have never crossed,” he explains. 
You tilt your head with a knowing look as you cross your arms. “Don’t lie Veritas.” 
A shiver goes down his spine. He doesn’t know if it's because it’s the first time he’s ever been called a liar or because you’ve just said his first name. It’s been a while since someone called him something other than “Doctor” or “Professor.” At least that's the quick excuse he can come up with on the spot to ease his jittery mind. 
He’s caught. He’s finally caught. So he defends his hypothesis. 
“I don’t like fools,” he states matter-a-factly. “I tend to stay away from them.” 
“But not from me?” 
Oh your tongue is clever. Not as clever as his, he reassures himself. 
“You seem to know a lot about me.” 
He’s red. He knows it. But he cant seem to find something to throw back at you. His quick wit is anywhere but in the present. 
“Is it because deep down you know I’m right?” Your face softens. 
He stays silent. 
“Out of all the literature about me, you’ve chosen that which  is not written by me.” You run your hands across the book's cover and place it neatly before him. “You’ve been reading the books with my name on them but have never picked up the ones that I myself created. Why is that?” You smile, but your face shows genuine perplexity. 
If he has an answer, he doesn’t tell you. He keeps it to himself. However, the question he asks in response is an answer in itself.
“Why did you leave?” His voice is low—broken even. 
Your smile turns into an expression filled with a touch of sadness. “You ask questions you know the answer to?”
“Don't you dare mock me,” he snaps.
“What else are fools good for?”
He’s silent as his lips purse in anger. There are a few beats before he responds. “Teaching.”
Your face lightens in surprise, and your original charming smile returns. 
He wants to know. He yearns to know. But when you finally give him his answer, he knows it will burn like fire. He’ll finally have a reason why the thing he fought so much for was not all it was chopped up to be. The younger years of his life–wasted to appease THEM—all for nothing. Although he had reached a place of contentment. There was a little boy still in him who wanted to keep his former fantasy alive. 
“The Erudition is something that consumes people as do all Aeons. You know this, right Professor?” 
What you say is common sense. He gives you no answer or satisfaction. But he continues to listen attentively. 
“All intelligent minds are selfish to some extent. The genius society is filled with people who will pursue knowledge regardless of the people hurt. This includes themselves.In order to be a person of pure logic—a genius…” You pause for a second. “…you must lack empathy to some extent.”
You turn to meet him, and he swears he’s never seen any eyes more beautiful and full of honesty than yours. “And I have too much.”
And then, at your words, something clicks in his brain. 
Another smile takes over your lips as you face your body towards him. “And I believe you have more than you let on, Doctor.”
He’s in silence. 
He says nothing because he can’t say something. 
You walk around to the other side of his desk where he sits. His eyes follow your ever move while you do so. Your hand unlocks the clasp of your satchel and disappears inside. When it comes out, a book appears before him. 
He takes it in his hands tenderly and then looks at the title. ‘Philosophy of the Stars,’ he reads to himself. Then his eyes wander to the bottom of the cover, and there’s your name printed in gold. He looks up at you expectantly. 
Of course, when his eyes land on your face, your face is full of glee. “If you wish to learn more about me, I hope you’ll do so through a book with all of my own words.”
You say nothing more as you turn on your heels and leave his office. Leaving Ratio with a feeling of shock and emptiness. 
His hand comes up to his face, and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He sits there in silence and realizes…
You are none of what he had made you out to be…
Not a fool. Not an idiot. Not a genius. 
But a kind soul. 
He realizes that he was good enough. That he was not a fool either. Just a young boy who cared. 
His eyes linger on the book you left him— the book in his hands refuse to put down. He opens it to the very first page, and he finds your writing in it and a note that slips out on his lap. 
For the mediocre Dr. Veritas Ratio. 
Your name is signed as elegantly as before. He puts down the book on his desk and picks up the folded note on his lap. 
Feel free to dirty this. But keep it clean if you wish to auction it. It will be worth more with both our names on it, so don’t undersell. It is yours to do with as you please.   
One thing Veritas knows for sure is that this book won’t leave his possession in all his years to come. 
“THEIR silence was deafening.”
- Genius Society–Erudition, Astral Express Data Bank
Dr. Ratio is sharp, precise, and calculated. He considers himself to be all those things; he is a needle. 
But if Dr. Veritas Ratio is a needle, then you are a pin. 
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ty for reading. reblogs are appreciated <3
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storiesoflilies · 3 days
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metanoia
synopsis: (n.) the journey of changing one’s mind, heart, self, or way of life. Or alternatively, the story of two souls who bond over drinking green tea. w.c: 17k (oops)
pairing: college!toji fushiguro x f!reader (noncurse!AU)
warnings: bucketloads of fluff and sprinkle of angst. descriptions of past bullying (toji didn’t have a nice childhood) SMUT, so minors please do not interact! nipple stimulation, p in v sex (it’s all rather romantic i must say), unprotected sex (these college students need to stop being so horny). a lovely little slow burn romance for the soul. swearing.
a/n: based on this request, and it’s finally here nonie!! a piece of my heart has been woven into this piece, so i hope everyone enjoys! to all my fellow STEM students, this one’s also for you <3 toji art by @/kakashismain, dividers by @/benkeibear. spotify playlist. ao3.
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there was nothing else to do or say about fate, other than it was fixed. no matter how hard you might try to change it, she never believed it could be.
life was a series of scrawling numbers and greek letters, written by the hands of angels and god. it was never going to a straight line; rather, it was a scattered mess of ever-changing parabolas, dipping and rising above the axis like surfers on the waves of the sea.
but sometimes, just sometimes, you can hear what has been written about you. if she tuned into things really hard, and listened beyond the banal noises that came with the plane of existence all humans exist in, she could hear it. the scratching of a pen on paper, or perhaps a feather quill on a scroll? yes, that sounded more like it. she could hear the angels solving the puzzle they had been given to balance the equation of her life. things must be solved in a certain series of formulas to become a proven, tangible equation. the angels were still trying to prove her life, it seems, and it was quite simply astounding that they were still working so hard and figuring it out.
but the irrational part of her couldn’t help but think, what if they were bored? she could certainly understand; there were many times when she’d been made to solve trivial questions, such as calculating the speed of an aircraft, and she’d wished she could be anywhere but there in that moment. did the angels think that about her equation? would they ever get bored and just give up on her?
with that, the cold, beautiful reality that is life becomes apparent. none of it was personal, and she had to live it right up until the equation was balanced and the last drop of ink ran dry.
it was golden hour. that time of the day when the sun’s light softened, casting long shadows of buildings and trees across the pavement. warm honey rays filtered in through the window, refracting through the clear plastic display that showcased the traybakes of the day. the cafe was quiet now, just after the hustle and bustle of regular work hours. most of the patrons were university students, drawn to the cafe for its convenient location near the main campus, where they downed their coffees like it was a drug to be taken multiple times a day.
she couldn’t judge them; she was included in that typical student caliber too, but instead of drinking her weight in murky brown caffeine, she preferred it to be of the green kind. more specifically, a cup of green tea took her brainpower much farther than its more popular, teeth-staining counterpart. and the perks of working for the very same cafe?
every cup of it was free and unlimited use for her; something she took advantage of every single shift.
the job couldn’t be more perfect for her. although her shifts were daily, they were always scheduled during these quiet golden hours that extended into the stretch of moonlight, accommodating her university hours. choosing to study a degree in physics was certainly no joke, and she was grateful for any spare moment of peace to work on her assignments and reports. her manager never minded, leaving her to riddle away at her numbers, which went straight over their head, trusting her to still serve any customers coming in and close up the shop.
it was absolutely fine. a simple, predictable routine – an equation she was perfectly happy to solve every single day.
until it wasn’t so easy.
| Φ |
some time later that night, well after the sun had dipped below the horizon and the moon had finally peeked out from behind dusty grey clouds, the delicate bell above the doorway tinkled. it snapped her straight out of her trance, where she had been listening to the music of mathematical constants singing to her of defined, set values from the sheet of paper leaning against the wooden clipboard of ‘speciality beverages’.
it was him.
toji fushiguro.
the dark haired boy she had seen around campus, although he probably hadn’t noticed her flitting about between lectures; unusually quiet and unfairly attractive. the boy who obviously frequented the gym close by, and came here to her little cafe afterwards. that much was obvious from the way the wet strands of hair stuck to his forehead, the spicy smell of whatever body wash he used, and the all black attire he always wore. the very same same boy who she’d curiously asked about, only to be told that he kept to himself and didn’t really speak to anybody.
and she believed it. she had never seen him walking with anybody else, or even bringing anyone along to his daily study sessions at the cafe. the way he grimaced at loud, boisterous students, typical of their age group, told her enough. that toji fushiguro didn’t seem to like people very much, and was perfectly happy with not being liked in return.
“hello,” she meekly piped out, her voice barely above a squeak, because toji was quite an intimating figure. “what would you like?”
it was a silly question. she knew he would order his usual – green tea, just like her. but it was a question she asked regardless, just in case his routine equation had somehow changed. you never know, after all. perhaps the angels had miscalculated or wrote down a wrong number.
“green tea, please,” he grunted, not quite meeting her eyes. he then sauntered off to his usual table by the window, and began pulling out his study material from his canvas bag.
she was grateful for the simplicity; there was nothing worse than preparing an elaborate order in the quiet of the night and disturbing the peace. brewing green tea was something she knew like the back of her hand, easy and peaceful like breathing. she strained the herbs as she poured it into a delicate ceramic cup, which the cafe insisted on serving it in, and brought it over to him.
toji muttered a small thank you, and she politely smiled, even though he never once looked at her. walking back to her spot behind the counter, she placed the clipboard on her crossed legs, and resumed her musings. such was their routine, both of them in their respective worlds within the same plane that was the cafe, sipping their green tea and whittling away at their education.
she almost felt honored that of all the cafes open late into the night, this was the one he picked to come to. even if the bitter, realistic part of her insisted that it was only because it was conveniently close to the gym. still, their equations followed the exact same sequence of numbers at that time every day, and she found that positively wonderful.
it was nearing 10:30p.m. when she finally finished solving her report, and she guessed that toji was completely engrossed in whatever he was working on to not notice the time. he would have normally packed up his things by now, ordering one more cup of tea before heading off wherever it was he went to in the dead of night. probably back to his accommodation, because he just didn’t seem like the type to show up to late-night parties full of booze and sweat.
she didn’t know what to say, or how to say it. the logical part of her brain was overthinking everything because this just wasn’t the norm for them. toji was supposed to have packed his things, leave just the exact amount of money on the counter, and walk out without another word. she was considering not even saying anything at all, biding her time until he simply realized himself and walked out.
until her legs moved of their seemingly own accord, perhaps a result of the numbers being messily rubbed away and rewritten, straight towards him. he never even heard her; his black wired earbuds were firmly in his ears, and she wondered what sort of music it was that toji fushiguro listened to. she quickly tapped his shoulder, withdrawing her hand back to her side as quickly as she could. toji almost jumped out of his skin as he turned to acknowledge her.
“sorry,” she apologized, looking pointedly over at the clock on the wall above him. “but we’re closing soon.”
toji frowned, as if he didn’t really believe her, until he glanced at the digital clock on his laptop and jumped into action. “sorry,” he said rather awkwardly, hurriedly packing up his things as she stood at a respectful distance away.
“it’s no problem at all. please, take your time,” she replied as politely and delicately as she possibly could, looking away as he messily scraped his papers and notebooks into his bag.
his chair scraped uncomfortably across the floor, and he heaved his bag over his shoulder as he shoved a hand into his pocket, fishing for the exact change he needed. for a second, she thought, hoped, that he would hand it to her. but no, he almost jogged over to the counter and placed it right next to the black mug of green tea beside her clipboard.
toji paused, momentarily staring at her mug. she felt a flush of embarrassment, as if even he knew she wasn’t supposed to be drinking it out of a large mug. but he said nothing and rushed outside.
everything fell back into place, as according to the laws of the world, and seemed right again.
| Φ |
there was something inherently uncomfortable about contemplating the future.
as summer rapidly approached, with only about four months left of the semester, she found herself forced to confront equations she didn’t want to solve. it was during the night, when she should have been fast asleep, that she really tried to listen in on the angels scribbling away at her numbers. it was cheating really, an easy way out to hear the answers of what she was supposed to do. perhaps if the end of her final year wasn’t so dreadfully final, then it would have been easier to formulate her own answers.
well, they weren’t really her own, but anyway.
she was in her own little bubble tonight, absentmindedly sipping her tea and tapping her pen against the clipboard. she knew the answer to the problem at hand, some menial question about what angle a beam of light would reflect at, and so she could afford to daydream and listen to the music of the numbers singing in her head.
it was quite easy to imagine a picture being painted from the numbers. why bother calculating the angle when you could visualize the light bending instead? that was what mattered in the end, not just the face value of the number itself, but the tangible reality they represented. there was no point in scribbling away at the numbers if you couldn’t paint a picture in your mind of the light itself or feel the thumping of sound waves reverberating through the surrounding medium.
there was only her and toji in the cafe now. he’d breezed past her earlier on the way in straight to his seat, dumping his bag on the table with the air of a student who was beyond fed up with their lot. she knew what it looked like; she’d seen it too many times throughout the years and had been through that position herself.
she tried not to make it obvious she was looking at him, or admiring the way his arms moved in the tight compression shirt he wore, the way his wet hair was slightly slicked back today, and the way his annoyance sparked a beautiful flame of green in his eyes.
he looked over at her, and she quickly looked away.
dammit.
she heard his footsteps approaching her, but her embarrassment forced her not to look at him. instead, she focused heavily on pretending to be stuck on the paper in front of her.
“hey, uh, can i get a green tea, please?” he asked, his voice deep and undeniably addictive.
“yes, of course!” she replied swiftly, putting on her best customer service voice to shield her embarrassment as best as she possibly could.
toji shifted his feet from side to side, his hands in his pockets, and mumbled, “could i possibly have it in a mug, or something? it’s just… the teacups are really small.”
a deviation in the curve, an unexpected variable. she answered anyway, perhaps a little unsurely, “oh, sure, yeah. no problem at all. is this one fine?” she lifted her mug awkwardly off the table, and toji looked at it and nodded.
“yeah, that would be great. is it, uh, more expensive?” he asked, and the way he asked it made her heart ache, as if he was ashamed of having to in the first place.
she waved her hand at him, playing it off like a silly unnecessary question. “oh no, not at all. don’t worry about it.”
toji seemed visibly gladdened at this, the tension in his face releasing as his eyes brightened. he stood there, swinging on the balls of his feet, and she was quite surprised he was waiting for her to finish brewing the tea instead of bringing it over to him. she had to steady the slight tremor in her hand as he watched her brew the tea with practiced precision. after what seemed like an eternity, she placed the mug on a small plate and carefully handed it to him.
“thanks,” he said quietly, his eyes fixated on the mug and the thin wisps of steam wafting from it. then, like an afterthought that was actually painfully thought out, he added, “appreciate it.”
she could have sworn the corner of his lip lifted, and she almost lost her footing as she sat back down on her stool. though she knew it was impossible, it seemed as if time had been stuck in that moment, the laws of physics crying out for some sense of normalcy to resume.
and so she cleared her throat, pulling free time from where its coat was stuck on the doorknob. “no worries. let me know if you need anything else.”
but he was already walking back to his seat, firmly slotting back the numbers and variables into the places they were supposed to be.
newton’s first law of motion states that an object at rest or uniform motion will continue to stay that way unless acted upon by a net external force.
or the law of inertia, as it was also called, and she much preferred that instead. it was what she thought of every time she saw toji making his way to the door of the cafe from the window, taking large, purposeful strides like he knew where he always wanted to go at all times. he was that object in uniform motion, his life seemingly constant without any real deviations. she thought of it every time he walked out of the door too, and wondered if there would ever be anything significant enough to achieve a large enough force to change his trajectory.
so what large enough force had been applied to make him finally ask for a change to how he drank his tea? maybe he had never considered it before, never realized there was any other option other than the abysmally tiny teacup he had used before. perhaps the fact that he had stopped and seen her mug the night before had opened up new possibilities for him. whatever it was, it didn’t really matter, because he looked so much more at ease now that he wasn’t hanging on for dear life to a teacup too small for those hands of his.
those big, attractive hands, with good, strong veins running through them.
toji looked up at her from behind his laptop.
the tip-taps of her pen became just a notch louder, and she bit her lip, almost crossing her eyes as she focused a little too hard into the hole of the letter ‘a’ in the word ‘angle’.
dammit.
| Φ |
it was march, and the cherry blossoms that grew around campus were now blossoming in full swing.
what little free time she had between university work, endless laboratory reports, and working at the cafe, was spent walking around the town and parks. while hearing the songs of physics and numbers was her way of life, sometimes it was nice to wind down and appreciate the beauty of biology and chemistry. to see how the rain that fell from the skies was soaked up by the weed flowers thriving in the cracks of the pavement. they were tiny little warriors, persevering in the face of the hundreds of people who surely walked this path, avoiding death by being crushed.
the air was cool, and it was late enough in the day to make it feel much cooler than it should have been. she rubbed her arms through her jacket and picked up the pace. it was a week break in the semester, and it was much busier than it should have been for that time of the day. her manager had offered her more hours to work during the break, and she had mistakenly accepted the offer instead of taking some time for herself to do what she liked.
she entered the cafe, the little bell chiming, and smiled at her colleague, who seemed rather grateful that they weren’t alone to deal with the swarm of students enjoying a relaxing coffee. it was rather different from the anxious energy that usually accompanied students in here, but it was a welcome change to see unburdened smiles before the exam season hit them all in full merciless force.
together, they took on the onslaught of orders from all the customers walking into their quaint little cafe in the middle of campus. she couldn’t remember the last time she’d made such complex teas, brewing flavor combinations she couldn’t even concoct in her wildest dreams. by the end of the rush, with her colleague having finished their shift, she was left in a frazzled state of tea stains and sticky sugary syrup.
and that is precisely when toji fushiguro decided to walk through the door.
she almost froze, a mixture of shock and embarrassment washing over like a bucket of ice-cold water. why, she’d never seen him in the cafe while the sun was still in the sky, and he wasn’t even dressed in his usual fitness attire either. instead, it was a black jumper and jeans. this was most certainly not part of the equation at all; she had never even considered to calculate the probability of such an event occurring.
“hey,” he greeted, as casual as the jeans he was wearing, while fidgeting with the hem of his jumper.
“hi,” she answered, dusting off some imaginary dust from her apron because she didn’t know what else to do with her hands. “the usual?”
toji seemed somewhat surprised at this. “yeah, please.”
she couldn’t lie; it was such a welcome relief to make something so simple amidst the chaos that was the ever-changing trends of beverages. had the universe written an additional formula just to provide her with just a moment’s respite? or was it the law of attraction being employed?
no, that was surely wishful thinking. there was no way that toji fushiguro had anything in common with her.
“are you sitting in or taking away?” she prompted, the extra words slipping through her lips.
he thought about it for a second before nodding his head, “uh, yeah, takeaway please.”
“no problem,” she replied smoothly, amazed at how well she was deviating from their usual interactions, and poured the tea into a disposable cup. “there you go.”
toji mumbled a ‘thank you’ as he carefully placed the coins on the counter, his hands completely enveloping what she would have once considered a large cup.
what compelled her to say the following words, she didn’t really know, but she called out in a hopefully not-so-loud voice as he turned to leave, “enjoy the blossoms!”
just why? why would you say that?
she was even more mortified when toji simply walked out the door without sparing her a second glance. the universe was cruel for adding that into the equation, and she could have sworn, to add further insult to injury, that two girls had watched their exchange and were snickering.
enjoy the blossoms? stupid, stupid, stupid!
| Φ |
for the rest of the day, she felt as if the second law of thermodynamics very much applied to her.
as she recounted her absolutely horrific exchange with toji, she felt the heat of the universe pressing down on her isolated being, causing her atoms inside of her to bounce of the walls that was her skin, sending her into a more and more disorganized chaotic state of existence. she actually hoped for once that the deviance of the otherwise constant line would continue to do so, and that toji wouldn’t come to the cafe later on that night. then she could resume solving the equation as it was meant to be solved for the next night, and she could continue on as if nothing ever happened in the first place.
so when their routine did end up resuming its normalcy, and toji walked into the cafe with his dark wet hair and canvas bag, she was too mortified to even speak to him, despite him being the only customer in the shop. she got straight to work brewing him his tea, avoiding even looking anywhere near him as he set his things down at the table.
her lack of attention, for once, almost caused a head-on collision.
“hey, oh shit! sorry,” toji cussed, even though it was completely her fault, as he stopped whatever momentum he had in his body from crashing into her.
she hissed as the scalding tea splashed onto her fingers. “oh, no, i’m sorry! are you alright?”
“yeah, don’t worry about it.”
with a wobbly, quivering lip, she went around him and placed his mug on the table, being careful to avoid placing the wet bottom anywhere near his papers. it was there she caught a glimpse of some messily scrawled-out calculations on a piece of scratch paper, and her brain immediately started to sing.
no, don’t stare. it’s rude.
“sorry again,” she whispered, looking straight at the ground and being careful to not step in his way again.
toji never even made a sound, and she didn’t dare to look up to see if he was looking at her. she ran her finger under some cold water before taking her usual seat at the counter, and picked up where she left off on summarizing her lectures. it was perfectly quiet now, save for the scratching of her pen on paper and toji typing away on his keyboard. this was peaceful, easy, and– hold on. why could she hear the sound of the music?
“hey, sorry to interrupt,” toji interjected, making her jump. “do you have any sandwiches or something left?”
“oh! no, i’m sorry, what’s on display is what’s left,” she answered shakily, putting her pen down on the counter. “i, um- the protein balls are pretty decent, if you like that sort of thing.”
“oh, sure. yeah,” he murmured, looking at the several flavors that were available. “I’ll take the, uh, peanut flavor. that any good?”
she smiled softly, despite the throbbing sensation in her finger. “yeah, it’s not bad. you want two?” he nodded, and she wrapped them both up in a paper bag as he procured out coins from his pocket.
toji dug around some more, patting down his pockets to make sure there was definitely nothing lingering in there, and his stomach audibly growled. the air became a touch too awkward, and she stared at the sad-looking change on the counter. she slid the bag over to him with quiet understanding, and gave him the kindest smile she possibly could.
“hey, don’t worry about it. it’s on the house,” she encouraged. “sorry, i should have said that from the beginning.”
toji shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “oh no, i couldn’t do that. sorry, i’ll just leave it. i thought i had enough change.”
she pushed the bag further towards him. “it’s fine, i insist. please.”
he slowly took the bag, as if he wasn’t sure that it was real, or that it was maybe going to bite him. “thanks,” he said quietly, and retreated back to his seat, packing up his things, while she sat there trying to will her atoms back into their rightful place.
“thanks again,” toji rumbled softly as he held the door halfway open. “i’ll see you tomorrow?”
“o-oh yeah! yeah, see you tomorrow,” she stuttered back.
with that, he closed the door behind him, the bell tingling a beautiful farewell for him, and she was left with the atoms of her thumping heart completely dispersing into the atmosphere as she frantically tried to claw them back down.
| Φ |
tomorrow came and went, and they had settled into a slightly different flow of their routine, although the core essence remained the same.
instead of waiting for her to bring over his tea, toji now waited at the counter for her to hand him a large, steaming mug of his fix. they never spoke anymore than what they did before, but there was something that had changed between them. something so subtle that it couldn’t be defined properly, but she knew it was there, and she hoped toji knew it too.
it was april now, and the flurry of students cramming for their exams in may were in full swing. when she wasn’t at the cafe, she was holed up in her shared accommodation, buried underneath a blanket that may as well have been a black hole swallowing her whole. there, she studied for the last set of exams she would ever have to sit at university, but she tried not to dwell on that fact.
not that she didn’t study at the cafe, but toji’s presence added an extra dynamic that made it difficult to focus as well as when she was alone. despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help but constantly glance at him when she was confident he wasn’t looking. right now, she could tell he was silently stressing over his exams too. spending so long in silence with another person meant she could tell the slight quirks in his face that signalled a changed in trajectory of emotion.
currently, the deep frown lines etched in his forehead meant that he was monumentally stuck on something. he’d been like that ever since he powered up his laptop and stared at the screen, the dim light casting an artificial, cold glow on his face.
once again, she didn’t know what compelled her to do what she did next. maybe it was the fact she knew he had barely touched his tea, and it was surely cold by now. or maybe it was the desire to momentarily distract him from his frustration by bringing him a warm, fresh brew. whatever it was, her body was moving according some new formula the angels had applied, and she found herself simply walking over without saying anything and placing a piping hot mug next to his laptop.
“huh? oh, thanks,” toji said slowly, daze-like, as if he wasn’t sure she was real and doing this.
she smiled softly, quickly glancing at the scratch paper in front of him, and oh no – he wasn’t composing the music correctly at all.
“that isn’t the answer,” she stated simply, looking back up at him. he frowned again, momentarily confused, until she pointed at his paper and said, “you’ve calculated this wrong. that isn’t the right equation to use.”
toji looked back down at his paper, sighing softly, and rubbed his face as he seemed to sink deeper and deeper into his chair. she couldn’t understand it; there was absolutely nothing to be ashamed of in getting a question wrong. she’d done it before herself many times, and more than likely would continue to do so.
“sorry, i-uh, i’m not very good at mathematics,” he mumbled shyly, and her heart started to crumble like a biscuit.
she pulled her pen out of her pocket and clicked it once. “no need to be sorry. do you want me to show you how to do it?”
toji nodded wordlessly, and slid the paper over to her, angling the laptop so she could see the question displayed. it was about calculating the speed of an athlete's arm as they threw a ball through the air, but he hadn’t used the correct equation, nor the correct standard units. she quickly wrote out every step of how to solve it, did a final check that her mental calculations were correct against his gray calculator, and slid the paper back to him.
“there, be careful with your units and don’t forget to include them. most of my professors have strict marking against not writing the proper ones, i don’t know about yours, but it might be better to be safe than sorry,” she explained, her throat tightening as he intently looked at her working out.
it felt personal on another sort of level, and strangely intimate.
he seemed to be taking his time studying it, with a slightly blank look, as if what she had done was still going well over his head. “yeah, good point. thank you,” was all he mustered, and he tilted his head at the scratch paper.
“do you want me to explain anything?” she prompted, half expecting him to pretend that he understood everything. that would have been typical of a student at university - faking it until they somehow made it.
so she was pleasantly surprised, but not at all unwilling to explain it when toji nodded again, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. she tried to recall how her teachers in high school had taught her these concepts, trying to adapt their tone of voice: patient and understanding. she leaned over to be more at eye level at him, trying to seem less intimidating, and their close proximity was sending her brain into overdrive.
“i hope this makes more sense now,” she said as she wrapped up the explanation.
toji’s lips formed a small ‘o’ shape, and the scar gracing them resembled the greek letter phi, but with the line running over to the right side instead of the middle. if she didn’t need anymore proof that the boy sitting in front of her was perfect, then the angels had just thrown in the winning factor.
phi, the perfect golden constant, now belonged in her mind only to toji fushiguro.
“uh, yeah actually,” he hummed, seemingly appreciative, his eyes sparkling against the dim lighting of the cafe. “thanks so much.”
she couldn’t help it, but she grinned widely. “no problem at all.”
she started to walk away, biting her lip when she turned her back to him, already feeling the bitter sting of disappointment that things would probably be back to normal after yet another deviation. until toji called out, “you’re really good at this. what do you study?”
“physics,” she replied, hoping the shock wasn’t too evident in her voice. “what about you?”
“P.E.,” he answered, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. she had to try very hard not to stare at how nice his biceps looked. “i stupidly decided to add a sports biomechanics module as my optional one. kinda regretting it now.”
toji chuckled halfheartedly, and she almost swooned, but opted to tilt her head to the side and say, “oh, but don’t you find it fascinating? it’s the numbers behind the real output of an athlete.”
“oh, well i never really thought about it that way.” he seemed to be genuinely pondering her outlook on the matter, staring hard at the numbers before him, and she felt the blood rising to her cheeks. toji looked back up at her and smiled a devastatingly handsome smile. “i suppose it makes sense for you to think like that.”
she didn’t really know how to reply to that except an, “i guess so,” and then added a polite follow-up of, “what sort of sport do you, then?”
“judo and jujutsu,” toji replied smoothly and completely casually. “i train at the gym before i come here.”
“oh yeah? that’s quite intense.”
“not so much if you enjoy it, really.”
“easy for you to say. you’re obviously in much better shape than the rest of us.”
she almost cringed externally at that.
obviously much better shape? why on earth would you say obviously, stupid?
but toji only chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “hard work, i guess.” he mumbled, staring back at his paper.
she glanced up at the time, noting that it was almost time to close. “well, I'm sorry, but you might have to practice it yourself at home.”
he looked panicked for a second, his eyes darting over to the clock. “oh, yeah. probably.” and started to slowly pack up his things.
she didn’t want to observe him anymore than she already had, so she busied herself by washing their mugs and quickly wiping down the counter for the morning shift, while toji was taking his time neatly packing away his things. was it wishful thinking that perhaps he was stalling. whether it was or wasn’t, she left him to it, switching off the lights everywhere except at the entrance. she swept her eyes over the cafe to make sure she hadn’t missed anything before heading out.
toji stood beside the door, his eyes flitting about anywhere but her, obviously waiting for her to finish locking up. she tried to ignore the fluttering in her chest and smiled awkwardly at him as he finally met her gaze. he shuffled outside before she did, hands in his pockets as he looked up at the nights sky, the silver moon shining between stringy wisps of clouds.
he looked like a scene straight from a movie – a movie where a beautiful boy was up against the weight of the world. she could see it all clearly now: his scuffed up trainers, canvas bag with dirt stains scraping the bottom of it, the hole in his shirt near the hem. and yet, she knew he had real strength, the quiet sort of kind, that would completely surprise anybody that decided to come at him.
she locked the door behind her, the keys jangling, disturbing the relative quiet of the street. the distant whooping of boisterous students, no doubt drinking and partying away their stress, could be heard a little ways off into the distance. the bright light of the 7-11 across the streets flickered, and she briefly considered buying some cheap dinner before heading home.
she cleared her throat and gave him a small smile. “well, good luck studying.”
toji breathed out a half-hearted laugh. “thanks, i’ll need it.”
“if you’re still having trouble with your calculations, you can always ask me tomorrow,” she reassured, feeling bold enough to assume that his equation would continue to equate to hers.
he seemed to hesitate, as if debating something within his head, and replied, “yeah, sure.” but his tone left much to be desired, and she was already kicking herself for being so direct. “sounds good.”
she bit her lip and mumbled a weak ‘goodnight’ before walking straight into the 7-11 to escape.
| Φ |
the next night in the cafe, after quite a long day of punching numbers into her calculator and her eyes swimming with all sorts of symbols, she was contemplating the sheer power of a supernova explosion. it was golden hour, and toji had arrived much earlier to study. his deviations from the norm weren't so jarring anymore, and she’d almost come to sort of expect them at this point. he’d actually met her eyes as she prepared his tea, and even offered her a smile and a ‘thank you’.
the time passed on quickly, and soon enough, it was just her, toji, and two other customers – fellow students – inhabiting the same area. it was around 9:17p.m., the usual time for it to be a sacred silence. so when four boys staggered through the door, the bell cried out aggressively from the force of them nearly ripping open the door, completely tearing her from whatever daydreams she had been lost in.
they were cruel, uncaring about her or the other patrons they were disturbing with their raised voices and boisterous behavior. she kept her cool, not letting their jeers and sly comments get to her as she prepared their orders, wanting to get them out of the cafe as soon as she possibly could. one of them was particular unnerving, staring at her more than the others did, a creepy smirk on his lips and dangerous glint in his eyes. he was like a black hole, and she felt as if she was about to be swallowed alive.
she felt like she couldn’t breath, as if her body didn’t remember the biomechanical process to allow her to expand her lungs and fill them with sweet air. were the angels in serious danger of their calculations becoming completely wrong? was her equation to become something twisted and tragic by the end of the night?
when the group left, the evil boy had glanced over his shoulder to give her one last indecipherable look before he took off at a run after his friends. she exhaled shakily, willing her body to remember how to breath, and decided to distract herself by cleaning any and all random nooks and crannies she could find in an effort to distract herself.
oh how she hated them those stupid, idiotic boys – and that their words and manners had such an impact on her.
she’d worked herself into such a state that she hadn’t even noticed toji standing awkwardly at the counter until she turned to sip at her ice-cold tea, and almost yelped in surprise.
“hey,” toji greeted gently, delicate raindrops against a pane of glass. “it’s eleven.”
and so it was as she noted the time on the clock. she wiped her brow and discarded the now completely blackened cleaning cloth into the rubbish. “sorry, i’ll just get the keys now. you head on.”
“no, it’s okay,” he hummed. “take your time. i’ll be outside.”
when she finally finished the usual locking-up routine, toji had resumed that vision of perfection from the previous night, and it was almost impossible to even consider, but he was even more dreamy than before. toji had to have been carved by michealangelo; born of marble and beauty, and forced to to live in this plane of existence. in some rural countryside of japan, at a public university campus, surrounded by bog-standard students trying to scrape through life.
she felt he didn’t really belong here, as if he was already slipping through her fingers, even though he never really was between them to begin with.
“see you tomorrow,” she said in farewell, giving him a small wave and already walking away.
the loud thuds against the pavement reverberated the immediate vicinity, and toji huffed as he caught up to her, “hey, uh, whereabouts do you live?”
“not too far, about a ten-minute walk away,” she replied, almost floored at the fact that he had just run after her. “why?”
“just… you ok if i tag along? i could use the company.”
“…sure?”
they walked side by side in silence, and her mind was going into complete overdrive. she was trying so hard not to be completely floored that somehow, on a random April night, toji fushiguro was walking her home. it was obvious that he was lying about company – perhaps not an outright lie, but it definitely wasn’t the whole truth. time seemed to have passed quicker than it should have, and before she knew it, they had arrived at her accommodation. toji seemed to hover, looking over his shoulder, his body seemingly tense.
“well, this is me,” she announced, jingling her keys for good measure. “huh, are you okay?”
toji was glaring into the darkness, into the twisted labyrinth of twists and turns in between buildings, only really half-listening. “yeah,” he replied tersely, his fists clenching. “you’re staying at home tonight, right?”
she nodded nervously, suddenly hyperaware of the deep, foreboding inkiness of the night. “mhm.”
he turned to her, verdant eyes simmering with something nearly as dark as the sky. “good, i’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“bye, toji.”
but he was already striding off into the labyrinth, off to face the dirt and coal thrown at him, when he himself was made of marble and gold.
| Φ |
a week after toji had walked her home, she had her first final exam, during which the whole time her thoughts were consumed by him.
of toji fushiguro.
toji and his eyes of forests and jade. of his sculpted body, and all the angles and lines that made up his face. his scar that made him golden and perfect, her phi. of how she had seen him on campus the next morning after he walked her home, wearing a white t-shirt and jeans, split knuckles raw and red against the marble of his skin. how he’d finally noticed her outside the cafe for the first time and actually smiled at her.
her friends – more so acquaintances who had happened to become close simply because they were on the same course –had noticed the exchange. when toji had walked well out of earshot, they had bombarded her with hushed whisper-yells of excited “oh my god!" and "how did you even get him to smile? i’ve never even heard him speak.”
and she’d shrugged them off, fending off their curiosity with, “oh, he comes to the cafe all the time, that’s all.”
she didn’t want to get into all the details of toji and her. well, just toji really – there was no 'and her'. their time together was a coveted treasure, and she was strangely possessive over it.
that night, as she handed toji his tea, she plucked up the courage to ask, “what happened to your hands?”
toji automatically looked down at them, flexing them as if even mentioning them made them burn with pain. “oh, nothing, just went a bit too hard at training.” it didn’t occur to her not to believe him until she was staring blankly at the last question of her exam.
she thought of the evil boy in the cafe, of toji staring down into the darkness and looking over his shoulder as if demons were just behind them, and he was the only thing keeping them at bay. maybe he really was doing just that. maybe that’s why he had continued to walk her home every night, as their graphs continued to overlap even more closely together.
she came out of that exam feeling as if some sort of hidden revelation was waiting to be discovered, and by god, how much she loved to solve for a new equation.
toji was already waiting for her at the cafe when she arrived for her shift, an occurrence steadily getting earlier. he immediately took note of her coming in, and his eyes lit up. she smiled brightly at him, offering him two thumbs up, to which he grinned and pushed away his laptop before approached her.
“so, it went well then?” he prompted, the ghost of a smile still playing on his lips.
she poured them both two mugs of tea, and held hers out towards him. “yeah, it wasn’t too bad actually. cheers to that!”
toji chuckled and clinked his mug with hers, the both of them blowing on the tea before sipping it tentatively. he went back to his table, resuming whatever he had been doing, and leaving her to serve the customers. that was perhaps the only drawback of toji arriving earlier - that their time spent together was interrupted. but it also served as a tantalizing countdown to when it was just the two of them.
obviously, their dynamic had shifted dramatically in the past week, and they’d settled into an easy-flowing sequence – something that felt as if phi would be, so perfectly balanced and positively golden. toji seemed to want to unveil the mystery of his equation to her, but bit by bit, which she didn’t mind at all. she loved slowing figuring out the scale of his axes, plotting all his points together, and finally drawing the curve that connected them all.
toji fushiguro could only be described as steady, a mountain that would never bend or break, his roots so profoundly deep that she had to really dig to see them. he loved his body, but not in a superficial way, but more that it was something he was in control of and could continually improve. she discovered that he drank green tea not just because it was healthy, but because it was cheap. how most of his gym wear had varying sizes of holes, and he carried around a tiny sewing kit in his bag at all times because he sometimes only noticed one when he was out and about.
most importantly, today he had divulged what he wanted for his future.
“i want to get out of this hellhole as soon as i can,” toji had sighed exaggeratedly, stretching his neck backwards. whenever the last customer had left the cafe, he’d drag a chair over to the edge of the counter. not so directly in front of it that he was blocking any customers, but just enough so that they were sitting across from each other.
she rolled her eyes playfully at him, nibbling at the cap of her pen. “oh, how original. you and every other student in this university.”
“well yeah, obviously, but not as much as me,” he retorted.
“what make you so different, then?”
“i’ve always wanted to leave, even before i got here. i want to to go and live in tokyo.”
“tokyo, huh? and what do you wanna do there?”
“well, eventually i want to open my own dojo and teach jujitsu, but i’d probably have to start out as an instructor.”
“oh wow, you’ve got a solid sort of plan. have you always wanted to do that?”
“yeah, i really hate it here.”
and he’d gone quiet, but she didn’t press him. instead, she focused on her textbook because there were still exams to be studied for, and waited for toji to come back to her. where he went in those moments, she didn’t know. there was something lurking in the shadow of the mountain, and he still seemed to be fighting against it even now.
she knew he’d come back to her when he’d lean in closer, cheek against his palm, and try to make sense of whatever diagrams appeared on the pages she was reading.
“that looks cool,” toji murmured, pointing at whatever had piqued his interest. “what is it?”
and she discovered, not that it was a real shock, that toji was so very curious. he wanted to know things, he liked to know how things worked, and he was really clever. she would explain as best as she could, and toji would follow along diligently, nodding his head every so often and asking the occasional question. many people probably underestimated just how smart he really was, but she never did.
“this is a diagram that sort of shows what einstein’s theory of general relativity is all about.”
“ah right, it’s pretty famous then isn’t it? cuz it’s einstein's.”
“haha, i suppose so, yeah.”
“what’s it about?”
she bit her lip and tilted her head, placing her finger as a makeshift bookmark and closed the book between her fingers. “it’s about… how really big objects like planets and stars cause gravity by bending space-time.”
“Bending space-time is gravity?”
“It’s because the bigger object has caused smaller ones to be pulled closer to it, if that makes sense.”
toji nodded slowly and laughed. “it’s a bit over my head. how you perfectly understand it is beyond me though.”
“i wouldn’t say perfectly,” she replied bashfully. “but i think it’s a beautiful theory.”
“you think every theory is beautiful.”
“haha! no, well yes, but that’s besides the point!”
“well, what is the point?”
“that something has had such a profound impact, because it’s so big and larger than life that it’s impacting all the other small things around it and pulling them in closer to it.”
toji smiled, the kind of smile he had when he was more vulnerable and soft, when his barriers were down and forgotten about. the way he looked at her made her body jolt with thousands of little lightning bolts.
“yeah,” he mused thoughtfully. “yeah, that is kinda beautiful.”
| Φ |
five days.
that’s how long it had been since she’d seen toji, and she missed him more than she cared to admit, even to herself.
it wasn’t ideal, right smack in the middle of the exam season, to be so distracted by a boy, but toji fushiguro wasn’t just any boy. he was the boy who she spent every day with, and the past two weeks had been a rosy dream as they talked more and more. it was now the middle of may, and she was almost done with sitting all of her exams. she should have been thinking of her future, about a solid career plan, and where she wanted to live.
but no, all she could think of was the laws of physics and toji fushiguro, and counting down the days until she could see him again.
he was currently out on a placement excursion, teaching ten-year-old kids during their regular sports curriculum. it was almost comical, and she couldn’t help but smile to herself whenever she thought of toji surrounded by a bunch of wide-eyed children. he’d already been groaning about it before he left, about this and that, and how much he didn’t like silly kids and their silly faces.
“what are you smiling about?” one of her friends whispered suspiciously, leaning in closer to her so as not to disturb anybody else in the library.
she shook her head, and told a little lie, “oh, just about how close we are to finishing uni. it’s sort of unbelievable.”
her friend raised a brow, clearly not believing her. “sure, and it doesn’t have anything to do with fushiguro?”
“ugh, why do you keep bringing him up all the time? i told you there’s nothing going on there.”
“i’ll believe that when i stop seeing you smiling like an idiot in love. now, c’mon and focus on this.”
love? no, no, it wasn’t love. not quite yet, at least, but she knew it was getting there. she felt a slight tremor in her chest, traveling all the way to the tips of her fingers and then the ends of her toes like an electric current across a wire. it was unfathomably scary to admit it, but it was nothing but the truth.
she was falling for toji fushiguro.
she ducked her head down, her pencil scratching against her notepad as she attempted yet another sample question, endeavouring to distract herself from all thoughts of him for the rest of the study session. as soon as she had to leave for the cafe, she practically shoved her things into her bag and almost ran towards it. toji should be back today, with it being friday and the school week coming to an end.
when she got there, her manager was behind the counter in the midst of serving a customer, and the cafe was reasonably busy. the overwhelming aroma of coffee wafted through her nose, warm and inviting, and familiar. she wondered if toji thought of her whenever he smelt coffee.
she certainly hoped that he did.
“great you’re here,” her manager beamed, handing her an apron to tie around her waist. “i was wondering if you would like to take some time off whenever you finish your exams? my nephew is coming to visit, and i’d like to put him to work instead of him lazing about all day.”
she was immediately hit with a sheer sense of panic. if she didn’t work, then how else was she supposed to see toji? it was so utterly embarrassing and pathetic, that she was so enamored with this boy that she was willing to work just to see him. but then she thought about what would happen after graduation, and how they realistically would not be seeing each other – perhaps ever again.
“sure, that’s alright with me,” is what she finally said after a moment's hesitation, but her manager surely picked up on her hesitant tone.
“never have i ever seen a student who didn’t want time off work,” they chuckled, hand on their hip. “this has got to do with that dark haired boy, doesn’t it?”
heat creeped up into her cheeks, and she busied herself with pouring a cup of coffee for a customer, as her manager gazed at her in bemusement. “no,” she squeaked out.
“oh to be young again,” they said in a sing-song voice. “don’t worry about not working though, i’m sure that boy would follow you anywhere you go. i’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
she didn’t quite know how to respond to that.
when the moon had risen high into the sky and the shop was empty, she waited and waited for toji. he was late, and he should have been there by now. or maybe he wouldn’t come? she thought it might have been quite bold to assume he would have tonight. he was probably tired from a whole week of teaching, and maybe he had decided to just go home and rest. she couldn’t blame him for that.
but that didn’t stop the soul-crushing disappointment from tearing her in two.
the sky must have felt her distress, because soon enough the pitter-patter of rain falling against the roof ensued. maybe metaphysical pain was real, and maybe she would spend her whole life trying to prove her theory. what a tragic future, she thought, and sniffled as she locked the door behind her.
and then she turned around, and toji was standing there, his chest heaving.
for a moment, they just faced each other. he was all wet, black hoodie all soggy and weighed down, sticking to him like a second skin. his green eyes were alight, looking at her with a mixture of nerves and something else she couldn’t place. toji exhaled shakily, his lashes fluttering as he blinked fast.
“sorry,” he mumbled. “i tried to get here sooner, but there was an accident and my train was delayed.”
her heart melted; she felt as if she was one with the rain puddles in the dips of the pavement, one with the water pooling beneath toji’s feat. could it be love already? maybe her loved ones, wiser and older than her would have said it was, but she felt too young to know it.
and yet, here was a boy standing in front of her, who had run through the rain and labyrinth of buildings to get here.
“oh, toji,” she gushed, instinctively opening up her umbrella and shielding him from the torrent of the sky. “you’ll get sick.”
she didn’t realize just how close they were together, trapped underneath the tiny space, until toji was staring down at her. a water droplet dropped from his hair, over the ridge of his nose, caressing over his cupids bow and parted lips, all the way down to his chin and onto her lip.
she shivered, feeling as if their lips may as well have touched.
“it doesn’t matter,” toji whispered, in that deep, almost sad tone that belonged only to him, and she finally admitted internally just how much she missed his voice. “it’s only water.”
they stood there staring at each other for a heartbeat too long, until she broke the silence with, “let’s get out of here.”
and then they set off at a slow, shuffling pace, the backs of their hands and shoulders brushing against each other, and she thought a live spark might just ignite off her skin. the rain sounded like little stones tumbling off the top of the umbrella, and the smell of the wet pavement served as little momentary distractions against the all-consuming feeling of toji beside her.
she didn’t want it to end, and so when they reached the entrance to her accommodation, and turned to face him. “you can’t go home like this. won’t you come inside and dry off?”
toji’s eyebrows shot up, and he almost looked like a deer in the headlights. he was fighting within himself; she could see it in the way his hand flexed, his knuckle touching hers. “i’ll just make your floor wet though,” he muttered, looking down at the ground.
“it doesn’t matter,” she urged, and added a desperate. “please.”
that seemed to snap him out of whatever internal deliberation he was having, and toji nodded. “okay then.”
she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face, almost immediately turning towards the door to hide most of it from him, taking out the keys from her pocket and fumbled with one hand to grab the correct one for her door. his proximity behind her was beyond distracting, her back felt like the south side of a magnet, and toji was her north. it would be too easy to fall back into him, and so she endeavored to root her feet into the ground and resist the urge.
she finally opened it and they passed through the unwelcoming vibes of the main lobby, toji’s shoes squelching loudly with every step he took. the student behind the desk glancing uninterestedly up at them, and then sharply looked back up, staring with saucer eyes at toji in tow behind her.
she once again fought with her keys, the sound echoing throughout the empty corridor, and pushed open the door to her shared dorm. it was compact but efficient for two people to live comfortably together. her flatmate was curled up on the sofa with her boyfriend, shui, in the main living area, only lit up by whatever was on the tv.
“roomie!” her roommate called out, oblivious to toji’s presence. “how was studying today?”
“yeah, great,” she answered, glancing back at toji awkwardly standing by the door. “you?”
“all goo- oh! oh. hello there!” her roommate finally registered toji’s presence as the door clicked shut behind him, immediately jumping out of shiu’s arms, who also looked back over his shoulder in intrigue.
“hey,” toji mumbled, a puddle of water now collecting over the white tiles.
shiu waved his hand at toji, who flicked his chin upwards in acknowledgment. she immediately turned to her roommate, “hey, you think you have something from shui’s he could borrow?”
her roommate sprung into action, scrambling off the sofa. “yeah, yeah! sorry! i’ll be right back.”
toji remained where he was, stationary as a rock, his emerald orbs flicking every which way. she wondered what he was thinking, but she was too consumed by the monumental event that he was really standing there in her living room to dwell on it.
her roommate burst out of her room, smiling brightly as she handled a bundle of clothes to toji. “there you go! the bathroom’s just to the left there.”
he strode straight to the bathroom, his eyes meeting hers just before he closed the door.
“girl,” her roommate excitedly whispered, vigorously grabbing her forearms. “what the- what is going on? i didn’t know you and fushiguro were together.”
“we’re not together,” she rebuked, biting her lip. “we’re just… friends.”
her roommate scoffed, nearly bouncing up and down in glee. “shiu, you know this is the first time she’d brought a boy home.”
shiu hummed quietly, an unlit cigarette dangling between his lips. “that’s great, babe.”
her roommate scoffed, rolling her eyes at him, and her grip tightened just a fraction. “is he spending the night? oh my god, you both should stay and watch a movie with us.”
“oh, i don’t think he’ll stay…”
“girl, just go and get changed into something else, and i’ll talk to him when he comes out. you know people can’t say no to me.”
before she knew it, she was being pushed into her room, and the door was slammed behind her. she breathed out shakily, sliding against her wardrobe with her head in her hands. her heart was racing, and fuck fuck fuck, what the hell was she thinking bringing toji here?
she heard the bathroom door open, and the quiet baritone of toji’s voice mingled with her roommate's bubbly one. the words ‘pizza’ and ‘movie’ were mentioned, and she rushed to shimmy off her clothes and into her slightly better-looking loungewear, checking her hair was presentable enough. when she quietly opened her door, toji had his back towards her, wearing a black t-shirt that was a size too small and grey joggers that hugged his thick thighs.
he turned to face her, and the tense look on his face relaxed. her roommate piped up from the sofa, “hey! i was just saying that toji should stay and watch a movie with us while his clothes dry.”
she bit the inside of her cheek, and softly said to him, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
toji looked between her and her roommate, before replying with a low, “I’ll stay.”
her roommate clapped her hands together. “great! I’ll order the pizza.”
she walked over to the adjacent sofa to shiu, and hesitantly sat down on one edge of the sofa. toji followed and lowered himself onto the other empty side, leaving a space of everything and nothing between them. soon enough, her roommate returned and plonked herself right in between shiu’s spread legs, shuffling through the channels until she settled on a movie. the pizza arrived some time into the movie, and the four of them helped themselves. she couldn’t help but steal glances at toji, his face illuminated by the tv's glow as he brought a cheesy slice of pizza to his mouth, his expression blank and unreadable.
whatever way the angels must be solving her cosmic equation, they were obviously applying toji’s formula. their numbers were intertwining, creating a new constant, and she wondered what sort of symbol would represent the two of them.
toji met her gaze, and the corner of his lip curled upward.
after the movie had ended, her roommate had ushered a bemused shiu into her room and wiggled her fingers in an excited goodbye. “shh,” she’d giggled, while shiu rolled his eyes at her, tugging on the sleeve of her pyjama top. “don’t make too much noise, you two.”
and with that, she shut the door, leaving them alone.
together.
in her living room, on the same sofa.
“do you, uh, want to watch something else?” she murmured, her legs folded beneath her.
toji breathed out a quiet laugh. “please. i’m sorry, but that movie was actually so bad.”
she nearly snorted, clapping her hand over her mouth in an effort to contain her giggle. “yeah, it was pretty shit.”
the clock above the tv read 1:42 a.m., and she wondered if toji was tired. she assumed he would be after waking up so early to teach a bunch of energetic children. “you want some tea? i was just going to make some,” she asked, her ankles cracking as she rose from the sofa.
toji slapped his thighs, and steadily got up as well. “sure, but i should really get going soon. i don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“spend the night,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. “none of us would mind, i promise.”
she then stupidly, pathetically even, held out her pinky towards him. toji frowned, clearly confused. “what are you doing?”
“a pinky promise.”
“oh right, yeah.”
he curled his pinky around hers, and a tiny electric shock sparked between them. she hissed and drew her hand back, but their eyes met, and they both erupted into a fit of hushed giggles, which only served to make them laugh harder.
“okay, you stick something on tv and i’ll make the tea,” she grinned, her bare feet softly padding on the floor as she went over to the kitchen.
as the kettle boiled, she watched toji flicking aimlessly through the channels, his face contorting when he came across something he didn’t like. he settled back onto the sofa, legs spread out as he reclined, mop of thick hair resting against the armrest. the shock of having him her in her home had faded now, and it felt almost natural for them to be around each other in this way. she brought over his mug filled with green tea, and he looked up at her gratefully as he took it from her. she sat down on the other sofa, stretching her legs out. toji’s eyes were slightly red, and he was yawning great big yawns, with the mug delicately balanced on his chest and one arm behind his head. the tv was on a low volume, and the she wanted to pause time, even just for a while.
“hey, just lemme know when you wanna sleep. you can sleep in my room,” she murmured, hands grasping both sides of her mug, feet rubbing against each other.
toji looked over at her, a scowl playing on his features. “and where are you going to sleep, the sofa?”
“well, yeah.”
“no.”
“but you’re the guest!”
“shut up, no.”
“bu-”
“no.”
she huffed playfully, throwing a hand up in surrender, to which toji smirked at. they sat in comfortable silence, watching some silly competition show play on. despite the tea, she could feel herself becoming sleepier by the minute. she looked over at toji, who seemed perfectly content to lie there and watch the contestants make complete fools of themselves.
“bet that guy’s gonna fall off,” he mumbled, his arms folded over his chest. she only hummed in response, her cheek squished against a pillow, and toji grunted, “you the sleepy one now?”
she laughed, which interrupted her yawn. “maybe.”
“go to sleep then. don’t stay up for me.”
oh, how much he didn’t know about how long she would stay up for him, and how long she would really wait. but she couldn’t say anything except, “you sure?”
“yeah, yeah, i’m cool here.”
“hold on, lemme get you a blanket and pillow before i go.”
she returned promptly with them, kneeling down to place them on the floor beside him. when she looked up, she didn’t realize just how close his face was to hers. toji’s eyes flicked down to her lips, then back up to her eyes.
she gulped.
“good night,” he whispered.
“night,” was all she could muster before overcoming the magnetism between them and walking away.
| Φ |
the final stretch.
a flurry of pens on paper, pounding hearts, a tripwire of nerves, and then…
“time is up! please, everyone, put down your pens. the exam is officially concluded.”
she leaned back in her seat, a sheer sense of awe crawling over her. this was it, she was done. her last university exam, all of it was finally over after three long years. her fellow students were of similar sentiment, with wide, nervous smiles, as if they all couldn’t really believe this was happening, as the smacks of numerous pats on the back reverberated through the hall.
the sun was shining on her face as she exited the exam hall, warm and inviting, promising that the hope for the future wasn’t unfounded. they were all high on life, with the thought that the world was their oyster, and they would all be lucky enough to find their own pearls.
“oh my god,” her friend groaned exaggeratedly, hands on her knees as if she’d just run a marathon. “it’s over.”
"yeah, it is," she hummed in agreement, basking in the sheer awe of the moment.
her friend barked out a laugh and clasped her hands together. “right then, i’m going to get ready for the party tonight. you are coming, right?”
“yeah of course,” she confirmed, shocking even herself that she would be going out. “we can only celebrate this once.”
her friend squealed, pulling her into a big hug before breaking away and trotting off. “bring fushiguro! maybe you both can get drunk and finally kiss,” she called out over her shoulder.
a few students looked over at her, and the embarrassment was almost crushing. she’d come to understand now that everyone on campus knew who toji fushiguro was. he was renowned for his adonis figure, the kind of handsome that only existed in fiction, and the fact he most certainly wasn’t associated with any girls or went to any parties.
until perhaps now, of course.
later that night at the cafe, as she fidgeted at her spot behind the counter, she plucked up the courage to ask toji, “so, you can totally say no if you don’t want to come, but there’s a party that’s happening in my building to celebrate the end of exams.”
toji looked up from reading her quantum mechanics textbook she had brought and grunted, “a party, huh. you going?”
“yeah, i’ll be heading over after closing up,” she replied, a bit deflated that he hadn’t seemed to notice she had dressed up quite a bit from her usual attire.
he hummed, nodded, and went back to reading. “i’ll see how i feel.”
that was no definitive reply, and she picked apart his usual baritone and analyzed in her mind as she went through a back-and-forth internal debate, trying to deduce some sort of meaning from it. she’d arrived to the party about an hour ago, and she was still thinking about it as she sipped away at some fruit-flavored punch that was far too delicious and dangerous for someone who didn't really drink. her lips were already numb, and the creeping giddiness was making her feel the joyousness of all that life is and would be.
her course mates had their arms around her shoulders, all of them loudly singing, more slurring really, in a circle to whatever song was thumping through the speakers. a part of her wanted to loose herself in the silliness of it all; it gave her courage and made her seem capable of things she would never have dreamed of sober.
“oh my- don’t look, but fushiguro is actually here,” her friend slurred through her ear, nearly shouting and sending a ringing noise piercing through her eardrum.
she turned around, and sure enough, there was toji fushiguro pushing his way through the throng of students dancing in the cramped apartment they had decided to congregate in. his green eyes met hers, and relief ran over his features. it was cheesy, as well as completely impossible, but time seemed stretch and distort, slowing to a crawl the closer he got to her. her friend released her from the circle, giving her a calculated shove and sending her stumbling over her own feet.
straight into toji’s waiting arms.
“oh, fuck,” he shouted as he caught her, holding her forearms in a firm grip. “you okay?”
she stared up at him, the alcohol running through her blood making her lips spread into a big, dopey smile, and giggled, “yeah, you’re here.”
she could have sworn the tips of his ears turned pink, but the flashing, multicoloured lights made it too hard to make it out properly. it took her far too long to realize that toji still hadn’t let go of her arms, even as her punch had spilled on them both, and as even more people stared and bumped into them.
“you want a drink?” she shouted, standing up on her tiptoes to reach his ear.
toji grimaced. “no thanks, i don’t drink.”
“oh yeah, you’re a proper athlete and all,” she hiccuped, her body flushing with heat and the sound of the music.
he only laughed at that, his emerald eyes twinkling with possibilities.
| Φ |
“be careful,” toji hissed as he quickly moved to steady her as she tripped over the doorway into her dorm. “jesus, you’re a mess.”
“i-hiccup! no, no i’m a ss-shtar,” she wallowed, chuckling madly at her own antics. “ssstar! star.”
“yes, yes, a star, definitely,” toji mumbled, closing the door behind them, and maneuvering her securely along with him.
“hehe, am i youuuur star, toji?” she giggled, her legs giving out from underneath her, suddenly turning into jelly.
he snorted, using her strength to lift her off the floor and into his arms. “yes, you are. now c’mon, let’s get you to bed.”
her head rolled against his chest, her head swimming in a pool of red stars and blue moons, all of them circulating around a green sun. “go onnn, you have to say i’m yo-hiccup-ur star!”
“you’re my star, now c’mon. get into bed.”
as soon as he laid her underneath her duvet, her head started to pound and swirl the moment she closed her eyes, her stomach lurched as if she was actually free-falling, and she groaned loudly. toji kneeled down in front of her, his face oh so very close to hers.
“what’s wrong? you wanna get sick?” he asked, forest eyes deep and ethereal as they took in her probably smeared makeup.
“i close my eyes and it feels bad,” she mumbled, feeling childish as her silliness became too much for even her not-so-sober state to listen to.
toji settled into a more comfortable sitting position, and she could feel his breath caressing her face. “tell me about something then, don’t think about it.”
“like-hiccup what?”
“anything. talk to me about stars, or whatever.”
“stars, really? okay… did you know, that there’s -hic- all different colors?”
“no, i didn’t actually. why’s there so many?”
“cuz they’re all different temperatures, that’s why.”
“that’s really cool. tell me about all the colors.”
“ohh, well there’s blue stars, those're the hottest one. and then there’s…”
| Φ |
she woke up to a throbbing headache and a burning stomach, her eyes hurting as light filtered through the opaque grey curtains of the window. the white wall beside her bed was the first thing she saw when she peeked her eyes open, so dreadfully plain and uninteresting, but rolling over to the other side was another sort of unnecessarily difficult task.
she almost threw up when she saw toji lying there on the floor.
“toji?” she whispered urgently. “toji?! are you awake?”
he grunted in annoyance and rolled over to face her, his midnight hair all messy on a pillow he had procured from who knows where, although there was no blanket to be seen. the light through the curtains softly enhanced his features, the scarred side of his lip twitching as he flitted somewhere in between the realm of dreams and sleep, and oh how her heart was absolutely swooning at the sight.
she smiled to herself, quietly watching him sleep and quickly forgetting about how ill she felt, because none of that mattered. only that she could hear the scratching of quills, ruffling feathers, and the soft music playing, telling her that this was it.
she was in love with toji fushiguro.
there was no other way around it, no more denying it to herself or anyone else. she loved him, the boy who slept on a rock-hard floor beside her all night, listening to her drunk and probably terrible explanations about stars and who knows what else.
green orbs peeked out from hooded lids, and toji mumbled, “what’re you lookin at?”
she bit her lip, trying to contain her giddiness at her sudden revelation, and reached over to poke his hand. “you. why didn’t you sleep on the sofa?”
toji's eyes fully opened, and he grabbed her finger and tugged gently. “cause, what if you needed to get sick and tripped in the dark? you might be a star, but you don’t actually shine, you know?”
“hah, you’re hilarious,” she retorted, letting him waggle her finger with his hand. “what else did i say, then?”
“that i’m the nicest person on earth for staying with you, and that i deserve free green tea from now on.”
“chancer, i definitely didn’t.”
“but how do you know you definitely didn’t?”
a loud knock at her door jolted them both out of their banter, and her roommate belted from the other side, “oi, lovebirds! we’re all going to get breakfast, want to come with?”
she looked expectantly at toji, who shrugged and mouthed ‘sure’, and answered back, “yeah, be out in a sec!”
“lovebirds, huh?” toji mumbled, as he intertwined their fingers, the corner of his lip curling upwards.
oh, angels in heaven above…
“shut up.”
| Φ |
the month of june was of blue skies and scorching pavements. of far too many melted vanilla and matcha ice-creams dripping onto their clothes. of heat mirages and the cool, sweet relief of air-conditioned cafes and shopping malls. of lying on dried-out, yellowed grass at night, their sweaty hands firmly holding each other, while looking up at the midnight sky and divulging all their deepest secrets.
it was when she learned how toji got the scar on his lip.
he was twiddling with the hem of her baby pink t-shirt, and not quite looking at her. “my cousins used to bully me when i was a kid,” he admitted quietly.
her gaze snapped over to him, soul aching for him. “toji, that’s awful. did you tell anyone?”
toji shook his head, trailing a finger up and down her bare arm. “my parents kinda dismissed it like it wasn’t happening. i think they didn’t want to stir things within the family, even when the fuckers took it too far one day and caused this." he paused, voiced tinged with bitterness. "they held me down and threatened me with razor blades, and one of 'em accidentally slipped."
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, not knowing quite else to say, and then rolled over onto her side to face him.
“it’s alright, i’m over it,” toji mumbled, returning to lying on his back, his arm behind his head. “but it’s why i've been studying so hard, so i can get the hell out of here. my family lives quite close by, you see.”
“right, and tokyo is about as far away as you can get.”
“yeah, pretty much.”
“and that’s why you didn’t speak to anyone at uni. you knew you'd just be moving on anyways, so there was no point making friends."
“mhm.”
she chewed the inside of her cheek. “so, what made me different?”
toji turned his head to face her, his gaze holding a gentleness she'd never seen before, “because… you’re you,” he said, as if that alone would explain everything.
she looked away, staring up at the sky again. it was silent for some time before she finally asked, “have i ever explained what quantum entanglement is to you before?”
“no, don’t think so, but go on.”
“it’s when two particles are so deeply connected, that it doesn’t matter even if they’re separated. the connection will always be there, and they’ll always affect each other. the distance between them doesn't matter either, because they still belong to each other.”
toji was quiet for a long time, and she wondered if he understood the deeper meaning behind what she was actually trying to say. she had never explicitly said to him that she loved him, and perhaps this was the only way she could say it - in the only way she knew how to. it was too late to turn back now anyway.
suddenly, he pushed his upper body off the ground and sat upwards, his back turned to her. he was breathing fast, too fast, and her heart started to beat frantically.
“toji?” she called out, fear lacing her words, her heart breaking in two at the mere thought of him rejecting all of this this – rejecting her.
toji turned to her, and whispered with glossy eyes, his words almost barely audible, “it’s you. it’s you. it’s you, and i love you.”
with that, he practically fell on top of her, their lips finally meeting in what seemed like an inevitable occurrence. like an eclipse or the death of a star, but none of that mattered. because here she was, with toji fushiguro, and he loved her.
he loved her, as her lips parted for him and their tongues swirled together, and she thought he tasted of vanilla.
she loved him, as he tenderly held the back of her head, and she melted into him like the ice creams they savoured every day.
they loved each other, as their hands dipped underneath their shirts, exploring the dips and valleys of each other's bodies.
the universe was never more perfect than in that very moment.
| Φ |
the very next week, they went on their first official date.
“i’ll swing by your place at eight o’clock, is that okay?” toji asked her over the phone, as she lazed about in her bed in a dream-like, rosy trance.
she hummed, rolling onto her back and kicking her legs in the air. “sure. what are we doing?”
“never you mind your brilliant little head about it. just be ready, okay?”
“hehe, okay.”
“okay, i’ll see you later… i love you.”
“i love you too.”
with that, he ended the call, and she was left counting down the hours until she would see him. she got ready in good time, being careful to shave every bit of hair on her body, using her roommate's products that she’d left behind after moving out. not that she even thought they would be doing something like that, at least not until she had seen a box of condoms under the bathroom sink cabinet. she hadn’t thought of sex since her subpar experience with it during her first year, and had since locked it out of her mind.
and now, it was all she could think about.
just after eight p.m., there was a prompt knock on the door, and she breathed out shakily before opened it. and there was her boy, her toji, holding a bouquet of half a dozen red roses, with a blush gracing his cheeks nearly as colorful as the flowers.
“hey,” he greeted with a handsome, crooked smile, his eyes sweeping up and down her figure. “you look beautiful. i hope you like italian food.”
and all her bundle of nerves dissipated. “yeah,” she replied breathlessly. “i do.”
toji took her to a small restaurant not too far from her dorm, about a fifteen-minute walk away. it was quirky, designed really for students with not much money in their pockets, but it was just perfect. it was natural, the way it was always meant to be. with her sitting there in a dainty summer dress, while toji, in his usual black t-shirt and jeans, looked at her like she was his whole universe.
after they were done with their meal, he’d shooed her away from even trying to pay for the bill, which he paid for in battered notes and loose change. then, they walked hand in hand in the warm summer breeze back to her dorm. she was going on excitedly about how she was looking for internships at various firms in tokyo, and toji was smiling as he listened to her finally start to figure out the answers to her future equation.
though, maybe not just her future.
they finally entered the safe space of her dorm, her roommates absence filling it with a sad eeriness. she looked at him shyly, fiddling with her fingers behind her back, and asked, “you want some tea?”
toji hummed, taking his shoes off at the door. “sure, thanks.”
she was grateful he said yes; it gave her something to do with her hands. she reached upwards to the cabinet to grab their mugs. the two twin beige, somewhat grey, mugs that always sat beside each other. they clinked loudly against the counter, and she flicked the kettle on.
and then, toji’s warm hands were on her hips, and her mind went blank.
“i love you,” he mumbled, his lips soft and wet as they trailed against the curve of her neck. “you’re my star, and i love you.”
he was repeating ‘i love you’ like a mantra he couldn’t quite believe was true, and even a part of her was still amazed that it actually was. she turned to face him, tea well forgotten about, and wrapped her arms around his neck to place her lips between his plush ones. toji hummed into her mouth, his hands sliding down to gently grip her behind, pulling her closer into him.
it was a nebula explosion after that, a stumbling mess of them making their way to her bedroom with their lips interlocked, bodies pressed close together as they ripped their clothes off each other. giggling like naughty children when she struggled to tug her dress off.
“you’re hopeless,” toji groaned playfully, tapping her nose with his finger, before smoothly sliding her dress from her body.
she pouted, crossing her arms over her bare chest. “am not.”
he shushed her softly, pulling her into him once more in a fiery kiss, and they fell gently onto the bed. toji kneaded her breasts, eliciting a moan from her as his mouth traveled slowly from her lips, down to her neck and caressing her collarbone, flicking her hard nipple with his tongue.
“hmm, you feelin good, baby?” toji murmured, looking up at her with hooded lids, forest eyes blazing with desire reserved just for her. “not too much?”
"n-no," she stuttered, fisting his black locks between her fingers, scratching the back of his scalp and making him groan.
toji parted his lips, his breath blowing softly and tickling her nipple, and she shivered and slightly arched her back in anticipation. he teased her with his tongue, licking her hard bud with a featherlight touch, and she gasped, “toji, please.”
with that, he took her nipple in his mouth, steaming hot and so wet as his tongue swirled around it. she moaned loudly, arching herself into his body, and he placed a strong hand on the small of her back to pull her in.
she thought that if toji pulled her in any closer, they would surely melt into each other and become one.
her legs parted of their own accord, and her hips were pure instinct as she ground her slick pussy on his thigh, the ridges of the powerful muscle stimulating her perfectly and sending jolts of pleasure through her core. toji smiled against her nipple, giving it one last suck, let it go with an audible pop! and traveled back up to her face, his lips brushing hers.
“who knew,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses along the bridge of her nose. “that all this would happen from drinking green tea.”
she giggled, and held his face in her hands, bringing his lips back home to hers. “i need you, toji,” she breathed out, breaking their kiss. “can i have you?”
toji smiled, touched his forehead to hers and murmured, “you can always have me, sweetheart. tell me what you want.”
“i want you in me,” she begged, her arousal making her more desperate by the second. “i’m yours, toji. make me yours.”
he snapped.
his lips captured hers once more in a searing kiss so molten hot, she was sure she would burn and be consumed by his fire. toji’s hands moved down to himself, freeing his hard cock from his boxers with a tiny slap noise as it hit against her lower stomach. he pressed his hips into her and settled in between her legs, his hard and flushed dick feeling even hotter against her skin than his lips did.
toji moved his hips, his cock wetting against her folds, the slick sounds lewd and utterly intoxicating, as he pushed further into her with every back and forth motion.
further.
and further.
she moaned loudly as he finally sunk deep into her wet walls, painfully slow and deliciously agonising.
“oh, fuck baby,” toji groaned, his face in her neck, as he buried himself to the hilt. “you’re -ah!- so fuckin beautiful. my beautiful girl.”
her nails dug into his shoulder, and toji bent her legs to fold them, rutting further into her. she whined at the deeper connection, feeling his cock flex inside her. he stilled with their chests pressed tightly together, and she could feel his heart pumping hard.
“t-toji,” she gasped, throwing her head back as she felt his balls against the curve of her ass, the tip of his dick rubbing against that spongy spot that made her see stars behind her eyelids.
he started shallowly thrusting, deliberately slow, holding her head so lovingly she felt she was going to burst. this was heaven, she thought, toji was heaven – her phi. the golden ratio, found in all remarkable and beautiful things on the planet. all her life, all the combinations of numbers, formulas, and sequences had to have been carefully calculated to lead up to him, to this moment.
toji sucked and kissed just below her ear, his muscled thighs flexing as he increased the pace just a fraction, and she clenched around him as she felt the veins of his cock rubbing exquisitely inside her. she tightly squeezed his bicep as the sounds of her squelching pussy and slapping of their bodies filled the room, and the smell of sex and toji filled her nose.
“look at us,” he cooed, stroking her cheek. “makin such a mess on your bed.”
she looked down to the interconnected bodies, a ring of white cream at the base of toji’s cock pumping in and out of her, dripping down onto a damp spot on the bedsheets underneath them. his toned abs had a thin sheen of sweat, and they flexed and rippled as he really started to pound into her. her pussy clenched around him again at the thought of him chasing his pleasure high from her body. she kissed him fervently, and he moaned into her mouth. toji’s balls were tightening, and her orgasm was exponentially building, like the pressure of boiling water molecules hitting the walls of a sealed container.
“let go, baby” toji murmured huskily, his hips snapping at an even faster pace. “let go.”
and she did, throwing her head back and almost screaming as her legs shook violently.
a supernova imploded somewhere at the other end of a distant universe. stars flew across the blackness behind her squeezed-shut eyelids, leaving behind a glittering trail of stardust. toji groaned into her neck, and she felt hot ropes of his cum spurt against her walls, his legs the only thing powering his body through his high.
she wrapped her arms around his neck as he stilled, half-hard cock still plugged inside her, panting into each other as their shared sweat made them stick to each other.
“i love you,” toji whispered, full of reverence and life.
she kissed him softly, rubbing their noses together. “i love you too.”
| Φ |
it was early july now; their results had been released, and graduations were finally right around the corner.
“you should go toji!” she exclaimed, cupping her mug of lukewarm tea with both hands, watching intently from the sofa as he did some stretches. “you’ve worked so hard for this.”
he grunted, but from effort or annoyance, she didn’t know. “i can’t be bothered, seriously, and i’m not interested in standing on a stage and be the only person without parents cheering them on.”
she didn’t press it further, casting one last longing look at his muscles rippling as he stretched, and resumed looking through internship advertisements on her laptop. they had settled into an oddly domestic routine for the past few weeks. she would work in the cafe during the day, while toji trained at the gym. he would swing by and pick her up as she finished work in the early afternoon, and they would cook dinner and hang around the dorm. the weather was getting far too hot for leisurely walks during the day, so they had mostly passed that time making love and talking about everything and nothing.
toji kissed the top of her head, squatting behind her and clearly finished with his stretches, his eyes skimming over the current tab open on her laptop. “still nothin, baby?”
she sighed, rubbing his hand that was gently massaging her shoulder. “no.”
“you’ll find something, don’t worry. it’ll happen. let’s just focus on celebrating your graduation next week.”
her graduation.
she still couldn’t believe it. next week, she would be graduating, and the week after that, saying goodbye to her accommodation – her home – for the last three years of her life. saying farewell to her manager and the little cafe that had been so good to her, and not just because it had brought her and toji together. the stress was mounting to find something, anything, in tokyo, because she refused to even entertain the idea of going backwards and returning home.
and because she absolutely could not bear to be so far away from toji either, the thought alone was soul-crushing.
she heard the shower faucet running in the bathroom, and a wave of loneliness hit her. why exactly, she wasn’t sure, but she chased after toji into the bathroom.
he stared as she burst in, brow raised in startled confusion as soap suds ran down his face and back. “what? you find somethin?”
clothes be damned, she stepped into the shower and kissed him with all the energy and emotion she could muster. toji was taken aback for a second, hesitatingly circling his arms around her, and then giving into her.
she then decided; she would rather her body combust, and all her atoms disperse into the atmosphere before even trying to live without toji fushiguro.
| Φ |
it was the night before her graduation, and she was a nervous wreck.
“oh, toji,” she gushed, dipping the razor she was holding into a bowl of soapy water and giving it a little shake. “i hate getting up in front of people. i might just not go. it doesn’t really matter anyway, does it?”
toji hummed, brows furrowed at her, but remained unable to respond unless he wanted to get soap in his mouth. she flicked the excess water from the razor and carefully shaved underneath toji’s chin. he’d really let his stubble grow out, and since he was adamant about attending her graduation, it meant that the scruff would just have to go.
“nugh- y’re goin,” toji mumbled through pursed lips. “y’re too shmart t'not go.”
“and you’re too smart to have missed yours, but here we are,” she retorted, her tongue poking out from the side of her lip in concentration. “now stop talking, or you’ll get cut.”
toji grumbled and huffed from his nose, sending a soap sud flying onto her bare arm, and he snorted in amusement. she was sat on top of the kitchen counter next to the sink, with toji standing in between her legs, his hands kneading her plush thighs every so often. she was deep in thought, going through her mental checklist of everything she needed to prepare for tomorrow morning.
her light green kimono for the ceremony was already laid out on her roommate's old bed, zori shoes and tabi socks neatly placed beside it. but her hair pins and accessories still needed to be picked out, and she hadn’t even decided on a-
“ow, fuck!”
she snapped out of her thoughts as toji hissed in pain, ruby-red pearls of blood already blooming from his lip.
oh no…
please god, no...
she’d cut his scar, reopening the top layer of delicate flesh.
“toji! fuck, i’m sorry,” she panicked, as he pulled away from her in a flash, his fingers pressing down on his lip. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to!
she slid off the counter, immediately trying to go over and help him, but toji practically growled, “don’t fucking touch me.”
her body froze, a cold shock of dread spreading from her head straight down to her stomach where it pooled uncomfortably. “toji?” she called out, her heart cracking and lip quivering. “it’s me. it’s only me.”
she’d never seen him like this before, backed up against the wall like an injured animal, his green eyes widened, breathing quickened, and nostrils flared, as if he was about to lash out at anything and everything. he met her worried gaze, and there was nothing but coldness and emptiness. there was no trace of the boy she knew and loved. “oh, toji. please,” she begged, fat droplets of tears running down the apples of her cheeks. "let me help you."
toji madly scrambled away, grabbing his shoes, and was out the door as if he’d never been there to begin with.
| Φ |
toji never came home last night.
she’d fallen asleep on the sofa, after calling him numerous times with no answer, waiting for him to walk back through the door until she couldn’t possibly keep her eyes open any longer. when she woke up groggily, her eyes still heavy from sleep and crying, she went about the arduous task of getting herself ready for graduation.
she hoped, no, prayed to the angels solving her equation to apply a magic formula that would bring toji back to her. she had to believe he would show up to the ceremony; he just had to show. she didn’t even want to think about trying to calculate for the probability of him not showing up. the day past in a hazy, slow blur of camera flashes, ostentatious flower bouquets, and toothy grins of parents and graduates. she played the part perfectly, a walking empty shell of a human, hugging and smiling with her loved ones. when her name was called to receive her diploma, nothing else mattered except trying to catch a glimpse of toji’s face in the audience.
but she couldn’t see him, and a foolish part of her hoped that he was simply standing right at the back, wearing that soft smile she loved so much whenever he looked at her.
she eventually returned back to her dorm in a numb daze, blinking slowly as her eyes swept over her soon-to-be-old home.
there was no trace of toji.
not his black sliders by the door.
not his toothbrush in the holder in the bathroom.
not his canvas bag or dirty gym clothes in the washing basket.
nothing at all.
she collapsed to the floor in a heap, her hands shakily procuring her phone from her clutch purse, and dialled toji’s number.
beep. beep. beep.
“sorry, but the number you have called does not exist. ple-”
she snapped her phone shut, and hoped that her angels could hear the gut-wrenching scream that clawed its way out of her throat and reverberated around the empty walls of the dorm.
| Φ |
the first law of thermodynamics states that energy could never be created or destroyed, only changing from one form to another.
she thought of that as she remained curled into a fetal position on the cold, hard tiles, teeth chattering and the very marrow of her bones frozen solid. her fingernails had dug crescent moons into her palm, so hard she surely must have bled by now, but she didn’t care. her heart was tearing itself apart, a war of muscle and heartstrings against merciless, cruel love clashing inside of her chest.
her energy, what was it? was it inherently love? for perhaps the numbers and greek letters she had puzzled over for hours on end, contemplating all of the universe's workings and mysteries. or was it for toji fushiguro? for the dark-haired boy who had taught to her love something else other than her calculations and green tea. to love life and all the little joys that came along with it, and that she was worth so much more than she gave herself credit for.
if her energy was love, then what was it going to change into?
hate or rage? both? maybe the angels would mercifully apply the catastrophic formula of death instead, proving her equation to be null and false, and her body would dissolve back into dust and atoms. atoms that would find their way back to toji, hovering so closely to him, but never touching him again. would his body know hers, even if he could never hope to see her? would he sense her and smile, and remember the quiet, young love they had once shared?
her teeth clattered loudly, and her arms disappeared into the sleeves of her kimono.
how strange, she thought, that the music was the loudest it had ever been.
scratching of quills.
a splash of ink and a teardrop.
and the scroll was flipped over to a blank side.
| Φ |
general taglist: @tadabzzzbee
toji brainrot tag <3: @dollsuguru
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max1461 · 2 days
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Most real numbers are not arithmetically definable. This means, more or less, that there is no statement in the first-order language of arithmetic which is capable of uniquely identifying such a number. There are a countable number of arithmetically definable reals and an uncountable number of reals overall. A number is analytical if it is definable by a formula in the second-order language of arithmetic. Again, almost all reals are not analytical, because there are only a countable number of second-order arithmetic formulas. Likewise, most real numbers are not definable in the language of ZFC.
Humans and human minds are finite (or finitistic) things; presumably most real numbers are not "humanly definable", or perhaps even "physically definable". It may be the case that most real numbers cannot be individually picked out, named, or specifically described in any way given the constraints of the physical world. This does not mean that nothing can be said about them: we can still confidently conclude that an undefinable number greater than 6 is also greater than 3. Roughly, they can only be spoken about in generalities, with statements that apply to infinitely many of them at once. It is impossibly to even conceptualize any one of them specifically.
I am puzzling over two things right now:
Are there truths which are true of individual undefinable reals? These truths could never be stated or even thought, and almost by definition they could not have any bearing on the real world, but are they "there"? It seems like there should be unique truths about undefinable reals; for any undefinable real r, surely x=r (free in x) is uniquely true for r. But maybe this is a cheat, maybe there is no well-defined predicate "x=r" for undefinable real r. If you do believe there is such a predicate, I am tempted to ask: what does it mean? Of course by definition no answer can even in principle be formulated.
Do undefinable reals even have independent existence? I mean, in set theory they arguably don't: for undefinable real r and s, the statement "r ≠ s" does not correspond to any valid sentence in the language of ZFC. We know "from the outside" that they are distinct, but... do we? We can say tautologically "distinct undefinable reals are distinct", but surely general truths should in some way just be families of specific truths. Like "all dogs are smaller than the moon" is true because each dog individually is smaller than the moon. But we cannot individually say that any two undefinable reals are different from each other, or in fact individually say anything about them.
All this assumes that the universe, or at least human experience, is in some sense "finitistic" and therefore that most reals are in fact undefinable to us.
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liones-s · 1 month
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one of the biggest things I can advocate for (in academia, but also just in life) is to build credibility with yourself. It’s easy to fall into the habit of thinking of yourself as someone who does things last minute or who struggles to start tasks. people will tell you that you just need to build different habits, but I know for me at least the idea of ‘habit’ is sort of abstract and dehumanizing. Credibility is more like ‘I’ve done this before, so I know I can do it, and more importantly I trust myself to do it’. you set an assignment goal for the day and you meet it, and then you feel stronger setting one the next day. You establish a relationship with yourself that’s built on confidence and trust. That in turn starts to erode the barrier of insecurity and perfectionism and makes it easier to start and finish tasks. reframing the narrative as a process of building credibility makes it easier to celebrate each step and recognize how strong your relationship with yourself can become
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rioblitzle · 17 days
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i guess im not too involved in the zelda fandom cause seeing a post about rabid totk defenders is wild to me. from my perspective people were singing that game's praises for 2 months total before it fell to the "popular game bad actually" criticism wave and i don't think i've seen anyone say positive things about totk since then lmfao
#maybe it's just twitter's algorithm showing me discourse and criticism to try and spark engagement or whatever#ive experienced the same thing with mario odyssey which sucks cause i DID get into that game well after release but whatever#i think the game has plenty of flaws but is still like. one of the best games on the switch and that's not an insult to the switch#and most of my writing issues are 'well this sucks but also makes reasonable sense within the constraints of the game design'#like the lack of sheikah tech or the repetition with the backstory cutscenes with the sages#ive also never been super interested in trying to piece together the timeline or linked universe fan stuff but that might just be me#i feel like botw/totk is way better when you view it as a retelling of the zelda universe and give up on trying to reason with the timeline#for making a direct botw sequel on the same map w the same formula and still trying to make it fresh they knocked it out of the park imo#at least in regards to gameplay?#i acknowledge that there is a MASSIVE flaw in the non linear gameplay clashing w the linear story cutscenes this time#(... but that one didn't personally affect me since i saw the memories in mostly the right order and the story hit me weirdly hard)#but anyways yeah where are all the mean totk defenders i keep hearing about i thought that game fell out of the public consciousness#all i still see about it is NintendoMarioJimmy47536 on twitter calling it 'mid af' or whatever#and occasional gorgeous paintings of the light dragon on my dash
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fishy006 · 2 years
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im apologizing in advance for this confusing rant that could have inaccuracies, sorry…
I LOVE the women in ponniyin selvan
because they’re so well written. I’ve watched too many Kollywood movies where the women in the movie have no point. They’re just there for a dance or barely have any character. And if they do they aren’t even strong characters and it annoyed me SO much. And then we have this movie, with complicated and intelligent women characters. Obviously it’s because the book was well written and i’m glad they portrayed that in the movie. I haven’t personally read the books (everything i know from it is from what i’ve heard my parents talk about and what i’ve heard about it) so i’m only talking about what i see in the movie and heard about.
Nandini is the best most complex character. She’s out there tricking everyone, with complicated motivation. She is amazing at politics. She’s the villain, she’s the main person, she’s extremely intelligent. She is amazing and Aishwariya Rai is SO good at acting as her.
Kundavai is a political queen. Knows how to manipulate others and do what she needs to do. Like literally a political genius. She knows what’s she’s doing and she’s incredibly intelligent.
Poonguzhali can handle a boat all by herself is choppy dangerous waters. So strong and amazing. And she’s sassy and smart and i think my mom said something about her being more powerful/ having a bigger role then the movie showed.
i just love them all!!! and hopefully tamil movies can learn from this and instead of making bad movie start to do better, because i LOVE tamil movies. but the nerd in me needs them to be good.
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carbonateddelusion · 1 year
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THAT REMINDS ME- I need to draw another entry for the explanation posts.. I think I'll give a rundown on the two (three? sane AU Eddie isn't really his own thing) versions of Edgar and how his relationship with The Main Antagonist Dude (Eli/Jack) impacts the narrative
I'll definitely need some input from Ben for Elijah's portion, though
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Ahah, it's time to share an old [one fear] meme I experienced thinking about Large Varshahn and never posted because oh my god the walls I've put up not to talk about anything as a Vrtra/Estinien shipper since 6.0...
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What if they do tell us they just doused the thing in Growth Formula Omega, and then we as a people have to deal with that.
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queen-susans-revenge · 7 months
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There are many like it, but this one is mine.
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snekdood · 1 year
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ppl on here act like they want new media all the time but then when someone on here tries to do that for them they feel the need to completely eviscerate the show/book/whatever but then dont bother to do that with shit thats already popular, probably bc they know no ones gonna listen since its already so popular, but goddamn when yall have the chance to sabotage ppls shit yall will fuckin do anything. truly crabs in a bucket on here.
#anything that even barely steps out of the media you're used to yall just decide is bad for some reason#like if its not just like steven universe or owl house its bad or something#idk i kinda just think maybe some of you have juvenile understandings of media. esp if all you consume is literally kids shows.#sorry not every story follows the same form or formula dawg#sorry not everything is disney where everything is clearly laid out like who the villain is etc.#sorry not everything is a step by step to help you understand rather than to find your own meaning#idk theres this certain Vibe thats hard to articulate but that always feels like its recquired for ppl to like your shit on here#idk ig my characters arent fem enough or something. or the fact that my self insert isnt. makes me inherently less trustworthy or some dumb#excuse like that idk#ig im just now uwu upbeat enough or something#not*#even though like so many of my other ocs are probably like. the exact thing they're looking for. the fact my self insert is there masc and#imperfect makes it Bad or something idk#idrc to find out i kinda think a lot of yalls opinoins are worthless at this point. theres a reason this website is broadly recognized as#toxic. and no. in spite of what some of yall might tell yourselves. its not just right wingers who feel that way and its not bc you're#queer or whatever. PLENTY of queer ppl ik think its toxic. so idk bruh. ive kinda just decided this is where all the shitty queer ppl#kinda end up dhghvgsdgh#and no! to reiterate and bemore specific! its not that you have neopronouns and are foxkin or something. im basically the same fuckin way#yall are just GENUINELY toxic people. like its a personality thing and the way you talk to people on here. you act so entitled to ppl#and how you think you can just dictate to them what they shouyld do all the the time. its fuckin insane.#you're not the worlds mom and you dont always know whats right actually.#stop weaponizing your childhood abuse and the controlling behaviors enacted on you against other ppl all the fuckin time#stop feeling like every post you see is an oppurtunity for you to comment. like who tf are you why do you think you matter that much#or that your opinion is so important in every situation#some of yall see personal posts even and at this point cant even bring yourself to resist the impusle to say something about it#idk! maybe i was raised different but i strongly believe in the philosophy of minding your own fuckin business bitch#yall also treat ppl like your play thing on here. its so dehumanizing.#genuinely seek help and be better to people. fuck. i kinda feel like i shouldnt have to say that to supposed leftists#but ig some of yall have become so apathetic and nihilistic that you've reverted into treating ppl like shit like you used to and used to#be more conservative
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imaginaryf1shots · 1 month
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Forced | Charles Leclerc ver.
WC: 16.2K (It started as a 5K word and then I said okay 10K and things went from there)
Charles x reader
Summery: Being threatened and forced into a marriage wasn’t on your mind when you got invited to dinner by your parents.
Warnings: Cursing, forced marriage, bad parents, alcoholic parent, bad childhood, brief suicidal thoughts, half edited. tell me if I missed anything.
A.N: If you’ve read this before, no you haven’t I tried to save it to my drafts while I was at my part time job, and it showed network familiar fast-forward 2 hours and I don’t find it in my drafts, but I see it posted, It wasn’t all uploaded yet.
A/N2: If there has been a one shot I was nervous about positing, it’s this one. So many ups and downs, at one moment I thought about scrapping it but this idea has been in my mind for so long. I feel like I could’ve added so much and I have to remind myself this is a one shot and not a multiple parts series. CARLOS ver. IS COMING, not this week but I’ll start it once I have an outline.(send me ideas if you have any)
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In the heart of Monaco, where all the rich, glitz and glamorous people live, the sun dips below the horizon casting a golden hue over the famous skyline of Monaco. The city is intertwined with the rich sport of Formula One. Many of the world's richest people live there, and so does your family. The famous Italian Morelli family, the rich of the rich. Generational wealth, very old money.
The family has been close with the Ferrari family for decades, and so Morelli has invested in the company very early on and has been receiving the benefits for years now. All of the children of the Morelli are born loving everything about cars and racing cars. However the new generation, not so much, they're straying from the driving and going into different ventures, trying different things. Yourself included, maybe when you were young but as you got older you never found yourself interested in cars or any of Ferraris teams in any motorsport, the last time you were at a race was when you were 10 and your parents had to force you to go, after that your older brothers stopped going so you said why can't I stay like them and that was that.
You defied your parents when you went to your choice of university, if it wasn't for you grandfather they would've cut you off, and so you went to art school and graduated with honours, but your parents still weren't there. Your grandfather passed away a few months later making your dad the head of the family.
Since then you've stayed in Italy after going and finishing university there, just the thought about going back to Monaco was out of the question, you have only stayed there during breaks from boarding school in Switzerland, both never feeling like home to you.
However here you are on a plane to Monaco for a mandatory family gathering, apparently something big is happening. the Youngest daughter to the family, the polite and elegant girl of the family, the least disappointment to your parents.
Your father had a driver waiting for you at the airport, not bothering to come himself even though it's been a couple of years since you saw him. Nothing has changed.
Getting ‘home’ yet again no one greeted you at the door but the maid who took your bag to your bedroom, you sighed and walked into the house looking for any sign of your family. You didn’t have to look for long, you found your mother on the balcony nursing a glass of some alcoholic drink, it was just a little after noon, a sight that you’re used to since you were young, your mum always being borderline alcoholic. Your guess is that she turned to the drinks to cope with living with your father, whom she chose to stay with for the glitz and the glamour of being a Morelli.
”Mother.” You greeted her, her head snapped to look at you, some of the liquid spilling as she placed her drink down and stood up, coming up to you with very wide arms pulling you in for a hug, your arms lay limp by your side for a moment before you returned the hug with one arm.
”Oh my baby, I didn’t know when you’d be in.” She said and pulled back to look at you.
”I sent you the details.” You mutter and she waves her hand waving you off.
”Come, come sit down, want a drink?” she asked, walking over to the drinks set on the side, you grimace and shake your head.
”No thanks, it’s a bit early for me.” You sit down across from her and look at the view, the view from the penthouse overlooking the pier, as much as you don't like Monaco the views there are breathtaking. “Where’s father?”
”He’s in a meeting.” She mutters and sips from her drink.
”It’s the weekend.” You reply but she just shrugs, unless he changed, your father never had work on the weekends, he hated them, he hated working anyways so for him to do so is something out of character.
”Your brothers just went out, sadly they didn’t come with any of their children.” Your mum pouted and you rolled your eyes, your mum is so out of touch with everything regarding her family, or anything in general, she acts so oblivious to the dynamic of the family, how all of her children live in other countries have their businesses and don’t want to be associated with the family name, the name she fought so hard to have.
”Okay, well, I’m going to my room to change.” You say and walk off leaving your mum on the balcony, texting your brothers in the group chat that you arrived, you laid down on your bed and scrolled through social media to pass time, you didn’t want to be here at all.
Once your brothers came, they made it to your room, the eldest taking the spot beside you on the bed and the second taking the sofa. It’s been a couple months since you saw them, but they’ve been texting you every now and then. The eldest, Matteo, is 8 years older than you, the second, Marco, is 6 years older, and you’re all at the age now where this difference isn’t that big.
You’ve all lounged around, your laughter ringing in the otherwise silent house. When the sun sat down you were called by the maids for the anticipated dinner. Hopefully everything will go smoothly and you'll be out of Monaco by tomorrow night. When you got to the dining room your father still wasn’t present, but you each took your place at the dinner table, with your mum at the head of the table across from your father’s empty seat and your brother’s each taking a side to your father and you between the oldest and your mum. It didn’t take long before your father arrived, he didn’t bother with pleasantries or hellos, he just took his place at the head of the table and food was served. You all ate in silence only the sound of the silverware hitting the plates is heard, something your mum tried not to grimace at each time.
“So… why are we here?” Matteo asked when the silence stretched for a bit too long for his liking, and he as did everyone minus your father wanted to escape this dinner.
”I have something that I wanted to talk to y/n about and I thought it’s best if you’re all present, as it’ll affect everyone.” Your father said, placing his knife and fork down, he took a sip from his wine glass and ran his eyes over the three of you like a predator, no ounce of love in him, you held your breath in curiosity and dread as the air hummed with anticipation, whatever is about to come can't be good. “As you know, our family has ties with the world of cars and motorsports, and Formula 1 has been a cornerstone of our family’s legacy for decades.”
”Not this again.” Marco mutters and your father gives him a warning look that has Marco clenching his jaw but saying nothing.
”In recent years, and since you three refused to have any hand in the family business or racing of any kind, our influence has waned, our presence diminished.” Your father continued, his voice carrying over the silence with determination, he speaks like you're in mediaeval times Matteo rolls his eyes. Dread fell onto you, you had no idea where this is going since it has to do with you. “I believe it’s time for us to take action.” His gaze sweeping across the room. “To reclaim our rightful place among the elite of Formula 1.” His eyes fall onto you and you forget to breathe, Matteo looking from you to your father. “I just came from a meeting with a Ferrari representative and we’ve come to a conclusion, y/n, we’ve arranged for you to marry Charles Leclerc.” Your fork clatters ringing in the air, your siblings and you are in shock. “This union will restore our family’s honour and secure our place at the top of motorsports history once more.”
As the implication of the head of the Morelli family proposal, no not proposal, fact, words, order, yes his order sank in, a palpable tension hung in the air, uncertainty and apprehension heavy.
And then your brothers were shouting, waving their hands, rage filled them. As for you? You felt betrayal, this is a death sentence to all your aspirations and dreams. Your eyes filled with tears, your throat closing in on you, your eyes fell to your plate and hadn’t moved. You have no idea who Charles even is, you have no idea who any of the Formula 1 drivers are at the moment, you haven't been in that sphere in so long.
”Come one, y/n, we’re leaving.” Matteo says and pulls you up, you stand up emotionlessly, your father still silent as he watched, you followed Matteo when your father spoke just as you were about to leave the room.
”If you don’t agree, then you can all kiss your futures goodbye.” Your father said and he dapped at his mouth with the napkin before he placed it on the table, that stopped you in your tracks along with Matteo and Marco stopped his shouting. closing your eyes, you let go of Matteo’s hand, of course it wouldn’t be that easy, your father wouldn’t just tell you and let you refuse, he had another thing up his sleeve.
”What are you talking about?” Marco asked his glare speaking for itself.
”I mean that, if your sister refuses or if any of you say anything or try to stop this marriage, you Marco will find that your company is suddenly without business and thus you’ll go bankrupt and you have two girls at home and a wife to take care of, and you Matteo, your stocks will plummet and you won’t be able to find a job as long as I live, all your inheritance gone and no trust fund to rely on anymore.” Cruel, he’s so cruel, how can he be your flesh and blood, how can you be related to this man? He’d basically kick you all to the street and his grandchildren as well, he has no heart that’s for certain.
”You can’t do that.” Matteo said but his voice was weaker, he knows his father is capable of doing this and much worse.
”Oh but I can.” Your father said with a smirk, his eyes settling on you once again. “So what will you do, y/n, would you let your brothers go bankrupt leaving them and their families with no money or future? Could you have this on your conscience?”
”This wouldn’t be on hers, it’s you, you’re doing this, don’t act like an innocent by standard when you orchestrated this, this scheme.”
”You know what? go at it, do the best you can, we’re not letting y/n marry someone she doesn’t even know, who the heck is Charles Leclerc anyways, I swear to god father if you make her do this I’ll-“
”I’ll do it.” You said and all eyes snapped to you, a tear left your eye before you whipped it away not letting another one leave your eyes.
”Wh-what?” Marco asked confused by your words.
”I’ll do it, but you have to write everything down, make a contract, that if I go through with it, you’ll leave them alone, the inheritance, the trust fund, everything.”
“No, no, y/n, what are you doing?” Matteo asked shaking his head, he doesn’t like this, he doesn’t want you to do this, his baby sister.
”I’m doing the only thing I can to keep you and your family safe.” You say to his, your eyes leaving your father’s to look at him. ”You just had a baby girl, and Marco, you’re about to have a boy, I can’t let this affect you.” You say to your brothers, Marco falls in his chair in disbelief. “Do we have a deal?”
”We sure do.” Your father says with a wicked grin on his face.
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Earlier that day in Monaco, Charles was on his way to what he assumed was a friendly meeting with some of Ferrari’s officials. His mind was somewhere else, he was thinking about the upcoming race, race strategies, how to secure a spot on the podium, he’s reached a point where he just wants to stand on the podium not win, just be in the top 3. He’s been struggling with the team the whole season and his personal life took a turn since the middle of the last season, it seemed to him that everything is taking a horrible turn. Little did Charles know that what’s about to come is so much worse.
As Charles enters the office, he’s met with a Ferrari executive whose name eluded him at the moment and a man he never met before, but a sense of unease crept over the monegasque man as he took in the seriousness of the situation.
”Charles,” Greeted, the man he didn't know, Charles shook his hand ever the polite man. “I’m Antonio Morelli.”
Charles recognized the name instantly, he knew the history of Ferrari and their ties with the establishment of Ferrari. “Mr. Morelli, it’s lovely to meet you.”
After they finished the introduction and sat down, Antonio sitting across from Charles started speaking. “Charles, this meeting has been set up because we need to talk.”
Confusion flickered across Charles’s features, his brow furrowing in apprehension, he had no idea what Antonio Morelli could ever want with him.
“Of course, about what?”
”It’s about your future and the future of Ferrari.” His heart sank at Antonio's words, this conversation is about to change the trajectory of his life. “As you’re well aware, your recent… actions shall we say, have caused considerable damage to your reputation and more importantly the reputation of Ferrari and the team’s standing in Formula 1.” A wave of irritation surged through Charles at the implication of Antonio’s words, but he had to bite back his tongue and stop the retort that threatened to spill from his lips. He knows this is not the time to argue, and it would only serve to worsen the situation further. “In light of these circumstances, and to save your reputation and your career.” Antonio held eye contact with the driver, his tone cold and unwavering. “I’m afraid I have no choice but to present you with an ultimatum, and you can choose whichever you like, it’s up to you.” Charles’s heart skipped a beat as he braced himself for the oncoming crash, he knew that whatever was in store for him wasn’t good. “You’ll marry y/n Morelli.” He stated as if he wasn’t just offering his daughter up to a man he didn’t know, yes he knows who he is but this is his first time meeting Charles. “Or you will find yourself without a seat in Ferrari and with no future in Formula 1.”
Silence filled the room as it seemed to spin for Charles, his mind is struggling to grasp what was just told to him, it felt like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him leaving him without air and leaving him reeling with disbelief.
”I uh- but I…” Charles stammered struggling to come up with something to say as his voice is barely a whisper.
”There are no buts, Charles.” Antonio heard him loud and clear, his voice cutting through the turmoil going through Charles and reaching him. “This is your only option to keep your seat, your only chance to salvage and save your seat and career in Formula 1.”
Charles thought about all he went through to reach where he is now, racing in Formula 1 was his lifelong dream and he achieved it, but he hasn’t won a championship yet, he still has so much to achieve, so much to do.
“This isn't just about you Charles, this is about Ferrari as well, its about the fans and how they view you as il predestinato.” The executive said and Charles felt a surge of resentment rise within him, his fists clenching at his sides. How dare they blame him for all their problems? How dare they use him as a scapegoat for their own failings? He knows it's not just about him, it's to distract the fans from the failed car, the tractor he and Carlos are made to drive every week.
But as he met the unwavering gaze of Antonio and the executive, Charles realised that there was no escaping the reality of this ‘predicament’. He was trapped, caught in a web of deceit and manipulation and it looked like there was no escape for him.
With a heavy sigh and his head bowed, and broken spirit he nods his head in acceptance, knowing that he had no choice but to accept. No matter how much it went against everything he believed in, he had to agree, his sense of pride taking a hit. And as he left the room, his footsteps heavy with the weight of his newfound burden, Charles could only wonder what awaited him on the other side of the impossible choice that lay before him.
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Matteo and Marco both took your bag and booked you a hotel room. You had set your mind to the marriage and weren't backing down as long as your father was threatening your brothers, the only family, you count, that you have left.
It took a lot for you to make them stay back when your father called you to tell you to come home to sign the contract and to tell you what the next steps will be like. You get there and the maid greets you as usual, taking your coat, before you make your way to the office. There's a meeting table with 6 chairs placed to the side in the office, used when your father has business meetings at home, so not so often.
You place your bag on the table and sit down, your father soon walks in with a man following him. It turns out to be the lawyer, they sit across from you.
“As we've talked there's two contracts, one for the marriage, you'll share with Charles and the other for your conditions. You can start with that one.” The lawyer stated and you start reading, it takes a while as you focus on every word not wanting to miss a thing. You do find yourself getting emotional as you read, this is all becoming so real, it's actually happening. It takes a lot for you not to show the tornado of emotions swirling inside of you.
“Where do I sign?” You ask meekly and the lawyer points you to where you have to. You sign all the lines and hand him the contract.
“Okay the next one.”
“I need to go to the bathroom.” You mutter and stand up.
“Let's take a break.” Your father excuses you and you head out to the bathroom furthest from the office to hide in there as you're trying to fight the tears. You're literally signing your life away, tying yourself to a man you've never met before. Closing the bathroom door behind you, you splash some cold water onto your face to calm your racing heart. But seeing how weak you look, makes you want to cry more. A few tears manage to slip down your cheeks but you pat them away, trying not to ruin your makeup. Don’t let him see how much this is affecting you, you can’t.
Charles makes it to the address sent to him, he's led to a penthouse so big and fancy it surprised him even though he's been in many expensive houses. You can tell this is owned by a billionaire, everything is a step above all the other places he's been in, yet it looked cold, unloved and un-lived in. Charles couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him, he had greed to this, this arranged marriage out of desperation to keep his career, to keep his name out of the public’s mouths, however the idea of entering a marriage with a complete stranger left him feeling uneasy. When he makes it to the office, he sees Antonio and the lawyer sitting down, the chairs across from them empty, but there’s a purse on the table. Antonio and the lawyer greet him and point him to the seat across from the lawyer, and just as he sits down, the door he closed behind him is opened, and his future wife walks in. Charles looked up the Morelli family but there weren't pictures of the adult children anywhere, when they were young there’s plenty, some at F1 races even, but after a certain point, he found absolutely nothing. What he found is the parents of the family pictured at parties and lavish ad luxuries events and trips.
Charles looked starstruck when he saw you walk in, he doesn’t know what he expected but you look absolutely nothing like your father, you look elegant, soft and so innocent. He reminds himself that you’ve also agreed to this, that you’re the daughter of the man that’s forcing him, how different can you be from your parents?
You saw him in pictures, you’ve read about him, everything you could get under your hand you’ve read. From his beginning in karting to F1, to the scandals he’s been getting into for the last year or so, how much it had affected him and his sponsors. On track he’s still doing good, the best he can in the car he’s given at least, but off track he’s living the life of a fuckboy, all that after he came out of a long time relationship. To you however he’s just the man that agreed to this marriage, to further his career to get to your family’s money, be connected to Formula 1 forever even, you don’t know but you don’t like him and dread the thought of being tied to him just like your mum is to your dad.
With heavy steps you make your way to your seat next to Charles and sit down, you refuse to look at Charles, but he kept glancing at you taking you in, your father had a smirk on his face that just irritated you to no end.
”Okay, let’s go over the key points in the contract together before you both can take it and sign.” The lawyer said. “Charles and y/n, you are both not to be seen in any romantic or intimate position with anyone but each other.” This was mainly for Charles. “The public needs to think that you’re both single for now.” Easy enough you think to yourself. “In a month's time, you’ll start being spotted with each other, but confirm nothing after about 2 months, y/n you’ll be seen at a race.” You already hated this so much. “From there you have to sell that you’re actually in love, we’ll then release a statement saying that you’re in a relationship and things look to be going good. Now, in 9 months you have to get married.”
”That’s not going to be believable, getting married in under a year of knowing each other.” Charles stated wanting to scoff at the stupid plan they had set up, you take the contract and flip through it reading all the conditions the things you have to do.
”And that’s why you’ll say that you’ve known each other for a long time, and you’ve just started dating recently.” Antonio said and gave a challenging look, that shut him up straight away.
“Why do I have to move back to Monaco?” You ask frowning, you hate this country, it may be small but you hate it, you’ve just gotten out of it permanently not even five years ago.
”Because this is where Charles lives-“ You cut your dad off.
”But he can move to Italy, it’s not that far.” Your dad wasn’t happy about you cutting him off but you didn't care, your life is in Italy not in Monaco. “And he races most of the year so he’s not in Monaco most of the time.”
”y/n, Monaco is the home of Formula 1, it wouldn’t make sense to move to Italy, keep your house there if you want and go there from time to time, but you will live in Monaco.” You huff but say nothing else, wanting this hell to end already. You’re both given pens to sign the contracts and before the ink even has time to dry you leave the room, leaving the three men watching after you.
Charles asks himself what he had gotten himself into, to him you sounded like a brat throwing a tantrum, because she couldn’t get the smallest thing she wanted, and now he’s stuck with you. Now your fates are sealed, intertwined. And you’re both losing hope.
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In the next month you don’t see Charles, he was off racing, and you were back in Italy, you’ll postpone your move as much as you can, your life is all in Italy, it’s where you’re living, working, that’s where your friends are.
Both you and Charles were sent booklets with all the information that you may be asked about for the other and you had to memorise it. You took the booklet and never bothered to open it, you weren’t about to make this easy, just because you signed doesn’t mean it’s all smooth sailing from here. Charles however read everything, he wanted to know who you are, he hadn’t gotten the luxury of finding a wiki page or an article about you.
The media and everyone around Charles notice a difference in him, he doesn't go out or sleep around anymore, but he’s also quieter and more reserved than before. Whenever he was asked about his mode or why he’s changed, he’d just deflect the question, change the subject or simply just shrug. Charles did find himself thinking about his future all the time, regret and second thoughts clouded his mind, but it was all too late now.
It was between races when you flew back to Monaco to meet Charles for your first ‘date’. In your time in Monaco you’ve booked a hotel room to stay in, not wanting to see your parents if not needed. You met Charles at the location sent to you by your father, you still don’t have Charles’ number.
It was a small and cosy cafe, where you’re both to sit and eat for an hour or so, there will be a paid photographer (paparazzi) waiting to snap pictures of you both. You arrived first and took a table near the window, but had your back to it, not wanting your face out there straight away. You tapped your fingers on the table as you waited for the Formula 1 driver to arrive. This ‘date’ to many would be a dream, but to you it had kept you up at night, dark circles under your eyes were covered by layers of concealer.
”Uh, hi.” Charles says and takes the seat in front of you, you give him a small fake smile in return.
”Hi.” You greet him back, and then there’s a long stretch of silence, that is so awkward you wanted to kill yourself, what do you say to your future husband that you’re forced to marry on your first ‘date’? Thankfully a waitress comes by and places two menus in front of you, and so you take your time flipping through, Charles has been here many times before, he knows what he’ll order so he takes the time to shamelessly look at you. He does admit that if it weren’t for the whole marriage thing, if he saw you somewhere he’d ask you out, too bad you’re a Morelli that he’s forced to marry. “Do you know what you’ll order?”
”Yeah, do you?”
”Yes.” You both order what you want before falling into silence. Charles clears his throat, searching for something, anything to break the awkward silence.
”So… how was your day?” He asked eventually, cringing slightly at his own words, you blink at him not expecting him to talk to you at all, you hesitate for a moment before you find your voice to respond.
”Fine, thank you.” Your tone is a little guarded, on edge, not trusting Charles, but you decide to play along and return the question. “How was your day?”
”It’s way okay.” And that was the end of it before your food arrived, you eat in silence both glancing at the other from time to time. This is suffocating, it just dawned on you that this will be your life from now on.
”This is awkward, maybe we can, I don't know, try to talk maybe?” You were uncertain and admittedly very awkward, but you have to get over the silence, you hate silence like this, you’re very talkative by nature, the only time you’re silent is when you’re uncomfortable.
”Okay, we have to act like we like each other anyways.” Charles muttered and took a sip from his water. “Did you come from Italy?”
”Yeah, early this morning, you were in Spain right?” You think you’ve seen that they were racing in Spain somewhere online.
”Yes, a couple days ago.” You nod to his words and fall silent again. “Nice weather today.”
You couldn’t help yourself but laugh, nothing is truly funny, but look at you talking about the weather and nonsense, trivial things, the irony of the situation is so funny. Charles smiles as he sees you laughing, he didn’t expect it but it’s his first time seeing you do more than a fake smile, you’re usually stoic, no emotions at all.
“I’m so sorry, it’s just this whole thing is just so…”
”Weird.”
”Yes.”
”Believe me I know.”
This breaks the ice a little, you still talk about trivial things, nothing personal at all, you talk about Italy he tells you about Spain, what countries you both think is better than the other, trivial, not important talk. But talk you did. As an hour came to close, you both paid for your part of the late lunch, Charles didn’t put up a fight when you said you’ll pay half of the food, he felt like you’re not at the point where he can offer to pay.
Walking outside you look up at him and give him one of those small smiles, that to him looked practiced and not genuine.
“I guess, I’ll see you at our next scheduled, uh ‘date’.” You say doing air quotes at the date part.
“Yeah, sure.” You turn to leave before Charles stops you. “Wait, let me get your number, so we don’t have to go through people to schedule something.”
“Great idea.” You mutter and take out your phone and you both exchange numbers. “Okay, bye.”
“Bye.”
With that you both went on your own ways, you went to walk around and get to your hotel, the weather is nice after all, and Charles went with him in his car.
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You and Charles went on a few more ‘dates’ each one with more pictures online, no one has figured out who you were yet, something you were forever thankful for.
F1Gossip
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Liked by username5, username320, and 302,582
hear me out! I think charles is over his hoe era, in the last month he’s been seen with the same girl in Monaco, Austria and Hungary. I repeat it’s the same girl.
No one knows who she is but or what she does but could this be Charles new girlfriend?
More comments
username234 honestly good for him
username20 FINALLY!! I was over him with a different girl each week 💃
username083 I wonder who she is
username72 not good enough for charles that’s for sure 🤢
username294 i bet it’s just another girl who he flies around w/ him so he wouldnt have to go out and look for one
username498 come one guys we don’t even know who she is
username903 it’s giving me gold digger vibes
username465 Charles be careful
username983 seriously these comments are not it 🙄
username438 shut up no one asked you
username983 and I don’t remember charles asking for your opinion
username438 stop asking like you know him when you dont
username983 says yyou
username474 I don’t like this 😒
username832 me neither
username094 this is whey drivers dont post their relationships because you people dont even know who the poor girl is and you’re already attacking her
username873 Olivia was better
username384 girl they ended over a year ago get over it
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You’ve seen the photos and you’re impressed with how much you and Charles managed to sell it, one thing you didn't like is the comments, you’re dreading the moment they find out who you were. You and Charles would usually meet up somewhere for half an hour, once you got the okay that the pictures were good you’d both go your separate ways. Now he has his summer break which he’s spending in Monaco, so once more you fly to Monaco to start the next part of the ‘plan’. The soft launch.
Your socials are all private, but soon you’ll have to make them public, another thing you have to change. You made it to Charles yacht in Monaco, he was already there waiting for you.
”Hi.” You greet the Monegasque, with a wave of your hand and a small smile, Charles returns your greeting and helps you get on the yacht. You settle down as Charles gets the yacht out in the water for a good spot. You brought your sketchbook with you, you’ve had a few ideas about some paintings for a gallery you wanted to be part of and inspiration just hit you that morning, so as Charles sailed for a bit you sat at the table and brought up your supplies. You’re the kind of artist that likes to sketch things out before putting them to the canvas.
”What are you drawing?” Charles asks you when he comes in.
”Just a sketch for a painting I want to do.” You say and look up at him to see him handing you a drink. “Thank you.”
”I never saw any of your work before.” Charles stated and you smile taking out your phone, you always love showing off your work. Not many people in your life were interested in art besides those you met in uni so when you find someone you just want to show them.
”I’ll show you.” Charles sits next to you and looks at the phone, and suddenly he’s seeing a side to you that he’s never seen before, your face is bright and the smile on your face is true, this is your passion. you’re explaining to him what each piece is about and what they mean, the colours, the composition, what inspired it. In the next 30 minutes he’s heard more from you than he’s heard in the last month. Charles is smiling at you when you realise you’ve been ranting for a while. “What?”
”I just never seen this side of you before.” He shrugs and you sigh leaning back in your seat, angled slightly to his side.
”We don’t know each other, I only know what I’ve seen online.” You tell him, your smile is long gone, and you find yourself needing to talk to him about the arrangement, you both have never talked about it before.
”You haven’t read the booklet?” He asked confused, he’s read his over and over again.
”Just the first page, it’s all stuff you can find online anyways, besides I bet you mine is just filled with things my parents think they know about me, but aren’t true.” Charles is confused by your words, he’s been under the impression that you wanted this marriage to happen, that this was a part of your plan. It seems to him now that your relationship with your parents is a bit rocky.
“I feel like there's a lot of things we should talk about.” Charles said as he got the feeling that maybe you aren't as welling as he originally thought.
“True, I actually hoped to talk to you.” You said and were Facing Charles fully, he also turned to face you, your knees touching lightly. “Look, I know you that we don't know each other, and that there's things that we both want to do that this marriage wouldn't allow us to do, so I have a proposal.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
“I wouldn't mind you being with other girls, we'll be married in a few months and i know I'm not your type, so do whatever you want just keep to discreet.” Charles was dumbfounded by your words, he cant believe that this is what you think of him. He's also a bit irritated. But what can he say, his attractivities haven't been the most private as of late. “But, I'm Keeping my house in Italy and I'll go Monaco if I have to and nothing else.”
“Sounds fair.” Charles said and you put out your hand for a handshake, which he returned. “There's no reason for us not to be friends.”
“True, I mean we're stuck together for life now.” You say and shrug. “We should take some pictures for Instagram.”
You both go out and begin the small photoshoot you had to do. Posing and taking pictures to choose one for Charles to post on his stories.
By the time the Yacht docked the sun was nearly down, Charles got off first and helped get off.
“When are you leaving?” Charles asked as you both walked to the parking lot, you rented a car this time around.
“As soon as I find a plane, I usually don't book my return flight until I'm sure we have everything we need.” You explain and he nods. “Why?”
“Well, you see…” Charles rubbed the back of his head nervously, he didn't want to bring it up but he's been putting it off for so long. “My mum wants to meet you.”
“What? Why?” you're confused why his mum would want to meet you, unless. “She thinks this is real?”
“I couldn't tell her, it would break her heart, she would feel guilty and upset and I can't do that to her believe me I tried but everytime I couldn't.” Charles went on a mini rant, now this a side to him you never saw. You can tell how much he cares and lives his mum, you couldn't say you understand his feeling but just from hearing him you can sort of empathise with him.
“Okay, I'll do it.” You say and he stops from talking and looks at you, with wide eyes.
“Really?”
“Yeah, it means alot to you, I’ll play my part.” You shrug, not thinking much about your choice. “Practice anyway, we haven’t acted as a couple in front of anyone really.”
“Thank you.”
”No worries.”
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The next day, you got dressed and headed to Charles’s house where his family was gathering for an early dinner and a night together, enjoying the time where the three Leclerc boys had nothing to do. When you arrived, you could hear the laughter from inside, making you pause as the nerves came at full force, your hands started to shake and you had to pause before ringing the bell a few times. Taking a deep breath you pressed the bell, and waited. The door opened and you saw Charles, he must’ve been laughing before he opened the door because he had a big smile on that showed his dimples, and they didn’t dim when he saw you. You gave him a nervous smile.
”Hey, come in.” He greeted you and walked in seeing some of his family, this must be the reason behind the smile and the friendliness. Yes Charles has never been rude to you but you wouldn't call him friendly or loving or caring. Neither have you to be honest, so you wouldn’t blame him. You give Charles a quick hug and press your cheek to his in greeting. You put on your diplomatic smile that you had perfected when you were in boarding school, and look at the Leclercs, thankfully it wasn’t the whole family, just the boys and their mother. “Maman, this is y/n, the one I told you about.”
”Ah, y/n it's lovely to meet you.” Pascal comes up and pulls up in for a hug, that you clearly weren’t expecting, your eyes went wide for a bit before you returned the hug. Her smile and hug came in as a relief amidst the lies and the unknown tension between her and Charles.
”It’s lovely to meet you as well, Mrs. Leclerc.” You say in perfect french, and pull back to see her grinning face, all your words and smiles felt hollow, meaningless , you know the truth behind all this and it isn’t easy to lie to someone who’s so affected by it.
”Oh please call me Pascal, Charles didn’t tell me you speak French.” Pascal says and pulls you behind her to the living room where the other other Leclerc boys are.(after this point everything is French between the French speakers)
”Must’ve wanted to surprise you.” You say smoothly and smile as you shake hands with Arthur before you do the same to Lorenzo, who seemed reluctant, but you think nothing of it. His brother did sleep around with lots of women recently, and you’re the first one they’ve met in a while as well.
”I wonder what else he didn’t tell me.” Pascal gives Charles a look and he shrugs with a smile, he didn’t know you could speak French, it wasn’t in the booklet, it said you speak Italian, English and German.
“Maman, I just wanted you to find out from her.” Charles says and sits down next to you on the sofa.
”y/n, you’ve come at a good time, I was finishing the food.” Pascal said and went to go to the kitchen before you stopped her.
”Do you need help?” You ask standing to follow her but she refuses your help and tells Arthur to come help her instead. With a groan the youngest follows his mother to the kitchen and you’re left with the oldest two.
”So what exactly do you do, y/n?” Enzo asks, the way he said your name left a bad feeling in you, you looked at Charles and he gave you a nod in reassurance, but it did nothing to ease you at all. You’re in the lion’s den right now.
”I’m an artist.” You say with a polite smile.
”So you don’t work.” He said simply and your smile falls.
”Enzo.”
”What? I’m just getting to know your wife.” Enzo said and you freeze. His tone is sarcastic, your heart sank and your facade dropping. “Oops not yet I guess.”
“Come on, let’s eat.” You’ve only just met Arthur but you've never been grateful for anyone in your life. Enzo leaves the room first and you turn to look at Charles with fire in your eyes.
”You told him.” You hiss glaring at the Ferrari driver.
”Yes, I had to tell someone, and he won’t tell anyone.” Charles defends himself and you roll your eyes. “Your whole family knows.”
”Yes, but you know that, why didn't you tell me?” You huff, not liking how he didn't tell you.
”I just didn’t have the chance.”
”How convenient.” You walk away from Charles and to the dining room, where they were all sitting down, the polite fake smile was back on your face. You sat down in a chair and Charles sat next to you. You were back to playing boyfriend and girlfriend, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of Enzo’s eyes on you. Another thing you’ve noticed is how loving the family is, even Enzo’s anger is justified and comes out from a place of love. Your brothers love you but you weren't raised with love around you and it shows in how people act and interact with each other. You did get to know the family a lot that day, with good food, good wine, and amazing company. But at the end of the night when Pascal made Charles drive you home/hotel since he didn’t drink and you did, you sat in silence as the guilt ate at you slowly, you were looking out the window from Charles’s Ferrari watching the scenery lost in thought.
”I didn’t know you spoke French.” Charles said breaking the silence and bringing you out of your thoughts, you turn to look at him.
”Yeah, I’ve been speaking it since I was young.”
”It’s not in the booklet.” You laugh at his words and little pout he had on his face, looks like someone took reading the booklet to heart.
”Told you it’s not all true, I refused to speak French to my parents after the age of 9.” You told him and he gave you a questioning look filled with curiously, your family dynamic alway puzzling him and leaving him utterly confused. “They always wanted me to do this or that, and at home we always spoke Italian and then suddenly they wanted us to speak French, I learnt it but never spoke it in front of them, I speak six languages fluently, and know the basics of a few more.”
”SIX!” Charles is impressed, he speaks three and that was hard for him, imagine six.
”Yeah.” You chuckle at his surprise and bring out your hands to count them down. “Italian, because I’m Italian, French because Monaco, duh, German because of my school in Switzerland, English is a language everyone just learns, Spanish because I went to a trip to Spain in 8th grade and loved the language and then Dutch cause why not, and it has some similarities to German when it comes to vocabulary.”
“Wow, I’m impressed, and surprised more impressed though.” Charles says and you smile a genuine smile.
”I’m glad to impress, and if you ever need a translator you know who to find.”
Charles came to a stop in front of the hotel, he never asked why you never stay with your family when you’re here but he could only guess. “You know, you don't have to stay at a hotel, every time you're here.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose.” You say unbuckling your seatbelt.
”You wouldn’t.”
”I don’t know, maybe you’d have some company, I’m okay here seriously.” Charles sighed and here it is again your thoughts of him.
”I haven’t been with anyone since I’ve signed the contract.”
”Why.”
”Because no matter what, I’m not a cheater.”
”But we’re not in a relationship.” silence
”Have you been with anyone?”
”No, that’s not what i meant, I just mean that you can live your life how you want it.”
”Well, I don’t want to be a cheater we’re getting married in a few months.”
”Well, I’m not with anyone and haven’t been in almost a year.”
”Okay.”
”Okay, see you later Charles.”
”See you.”
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Charles_leclerc
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No place like Monaco ❤️
More Comments
username93 we saw the last slide charles
username24 Charles in his soft launch era 🔥
username37 does this mean the end to his hoe era for real
username76 I’m going to miss fuckboy Charles
username37 You’ll be missed charles 💔
username83 you all think its the same girl from the paparazzi pictures 🤔
username69 I think so, same hair and everything
Landonorris 👀
Carlossainz55 when did this happen?
username28 lol not even his friends knew
username86 I bet @/pierregasly knows what up
Pierregasly not this time
username08 can’t believe there’s a day where Pierre is as clueless as we are
username90 I bet she’ll be gone in a week or two
username87 Uh who is this?
username48 Charles be careful there’s a gold digger trying to leach of you 🤮🐍
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Charles posted a few more times, without bringing your face in continuing the soft launch part of the ‘plan’. you’ve met his mother another time, and like the first time, seeing her so happy for Charles and being in love with you left you with guilt that kept you up at night. Alas it was time for you to make your appearance at a race, your dad had talk to you on the phone and told you to hurry up, he also tried to arrange for a ‘family dinner’ that you’ve refused over and over again. With that being said you texted Charles and you both agree for you to go to the race in the Netherlands. You’ve arrived separately from Charles in, coming from Italy. Charles’s room was a suite at the hotel, with a big sofa and a king sized bed. Charles arrived a day before you and was already out for media duties for quite some time, you had a work obligation that you couldn’t get out of and you haven’t really tried.
By the time you arrived and were out of the airport and at the hotel it was already getting dark out, you got into Charles’s room with the key he left for you at the reception. The room was clean, you've noticed with his suitcase open on the side, the first thing you did was shower and get into some lounge clothes, it was an oversized set that you wore around the house when you had guests over usually, not the usual boxer shorts and bralette you enjoyed.
Your phone has been going for a good 15 minutes now, making you sigh and go to the balcony to get fresh air with your phone in hand as you willed yourself to pick up. It was night time, and you had only turned the side lamp on in the room, making very faint light come out to the outside. after staring at the screen for what felt like eternity and with a shaky breath, you finally muster the courage to pick up his latest call. Your heart was pounding in your chest.
”y/n, finally, I’ve been calling you for days now.” Your father’s voice rang through the line, it was laced with irritation and anger, all directed towards her, as always leaving her shaky and scared.
”Sorry, father, I’ve been busy.” Your voice is barely over a whisper, a strained silence hung in the air for a moment, your hold on the phone tightened.
”Look, I’ve been patient enough with both you and Charles, but if you keep ignoring me and not doing as I asked, then your brothers will bare the consequences of your action, or none there of.” His tone was serious and unyielding, making you feel like a child once more.
“We will, I promise, tomorrow I’m going to the paddock.” You tell him straight after, and you hate how you want to please him just to get him off your back, the fear in you not lessening with age, he still has a hold over you.
“Good, that’s good.” He hummed and you hear your mother talking next to him for a moment before he’s speaking again. “Your mother is asking when you’ll be over for dinner with Charles.”
”I don’t know, we’re both super busy and-“
”And nothing, you come here as soon as you can, I’ll have none of this busy nonsense.” Your father interrupts his tone firm. “It’s time for the excuses to stop, I’ve been letting you handle how you get it out to the public on your own, but what I say goes.”
”I’ll talk to Charles, we’ll-we’ll figure something out.” You mutter and tears gather in your eyes, you try to fight them but like always when it came to your father they just fall freely. No matter what, you have no choice but to complain with his wishes/demands. For some reason after meeting his family, the thought of Charles seeing yours is leaving you with a sense of dread and despair. soft sobs leave your mouth in waves, you look out at the view, you’re high, the street looks far away, and you wonder, just for a second, if you jump would you die instantly or would you be in pain, is that kind of pain better or worse that the one you’re in. shaking your head away from those thoughts, you turn to go inside.
Unbeknownst to you Charles has made it to the hotel room, just to catch the last of the conversation, and he’s heard you cry. He stood in the bedroom just watching you crumple under the weight of your emotions, a few times he had to stop himself form going to you and pulling you in for a hug.
When he sees you turning to come back inside he makes his way to the door of the room and acts like he just came in.
”Hey.” Charles greets you softly, he couldn’t act happy when he just saw you falling apart.
”Hey.” You put on a brave smile but he could see your wet cheeks and red eyes, your nose red as well. “How was today?”
”It was okay, tiring, but good.” Charles says and his eyes don’t leave your figure as he watched you escaping to the sofa where you practically had your back to him.
”That’s good, I’m tired as well, I think I’ll go to bed now.” You say and pull on the extra covers you found in the closet.
”Now? did you eat?”
“No, but I’m tired and not hungry.”
”Oh, okay, sleep well then.”
”Thanks, you too.”
Charles walks into the bedroom and closes the door lightly, you’re not sleeping and you won't find sleep for a while, your mind is swirling with emotions and thoughts that are hunting you down. You don’t cry but a few tears slip as you try not to think about what tomorrow will hold or all the things you have to do.
The next day, you wake up bright and early, before Charles’s alarm goes off, you don't need to shower since you did the night before, but you slip into the bathroom, and start on your makeup, and get dressed. You know that every single thing about you will be all over social media and criticised and analysed by thousands if not millions of people Charles has over 10 million followers on Instagram after all. When Charles was up, you were just finishing up your hair, the door was open. You heard movement from behind you and looked up through the mirror to see a shirtless half asleep Charles, his sweatpants low on his hips, your hands stopped mid air with your curling iron. You’re just a woman, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wonder, starting with his messy and tousled hair moving to his chest and arms and his abs.
“Morning.” His morning voice made you blink and look away, you had to swallow before you were able to regain your composure and your voice.
“Morning, I’m almost done.” You say and focus on not looking at him and just looking at what you were doing.
”That’s okay.” Charles says and goes to the second sink in the bathroom next to you and starts brushing his teeth, you both were doing your business in silence but your eyes wonder to him every few seconds, his eyes was half closed and he was half asleep still, so for you it was a blessing, being able to look at him as much as you wanted, so you admired him without him seeing.
You’re finished before him and leave the bathroom, it didn’t take long for him to be ready, dressed in his Ferrari team kit and a pair of skinny jeans, you bite your tongue not to comment on it, you’re not close for you to say anything about his choice of clothes.
On the ride to the track, you felt a sense of anticipation and excitement, your eyes looking outside the window taking in the city, after today your life as you know it will change. Every single thing you do will be under the microscope, you felt like a teen again but this time it’s not going to be just your parents watching, it’s going to be thousands of people, all with their opinions that they’re not afraid of saying, online at least.
”It’s going to be okay.” Charles said and you turned to look at him only to find him already looking at you. “You don’t have to be nervous, after we go inside, you can stay in my room if you want.”
”No it’s okay, I can do it.” You tell him with a grateful smile, as far as arranged marriages go, Charles isn’t the worst option, if you met in other circumstances you wouldn’t have gone for him simply for his career choice in F1 but you’re glad it’s not someone worse.
When you make it there and park, Charles gets out first and walks to your side opening the door, all with a smile on his face, he helps you out of the Ferrari and you get out and take your first look around, there’s fans everywhere all screaming and shouting his name. Some of his team are already waiting for him, and when he goes to sign caps and merch, one of the females introduces herself and stands with you. you ask her about her job and make small talk, while you’re waiting. She also gives you your pass that Charles requested and you put it around your neck.
“He’s signing a lot of things.” You observe your ‘boyfriend’ as he’s going from one person to the other.
“Yeah, he’s known for singing anything.” You hum and watch how nice Charles is with everyone. “We usually have to pull him away.”
They did pull him away and inside the paddock you guys went. Charles let you walk a bit behind him, knowing that photos of him will be taken and you’re nervous enough, he didn’t want to make it worse for you. it’s been so long since you’ve been at a race it feels like a life time ago, you forgot the sheer magnitude of the event, the air was alive with the hustle and bustle of people around you, creating an atmosphere that’s charged with excitement, and anticipation. After a long walk you make it to Ferrari’s motorhome, Charles introduces you to a few people who you can stick with when he’s on duty. His hand was on the small of your back when he was leading you through the crowds, but other than that you both weren’t showing any signs of affection at all. That didn’t change the fact that once he was in his race suit and it was hanging but his waist you were looking, it was today that you’ve realised how fit he is, he doesn’t just have a good face but a fit body as well.
Watching FP1 brought back all your memories of when you enjoyed racing, I mean how could you not, you’re a Morelli it’s in your blood. Maybe if your relationship was different with your parents who knows where you’d be today. In effort to distance yourself from your parents you’ve strayed from a lot of things that you enjoyed that they loved or wanted you to do.
Between the practice sessions Charles took you with him to get lunch at the cafeteria, he had to stick to his diet and you choose whatever you wanted. sitting down you’re soon joined by Carlos Sainz, you haven’t met him yet, but you saw him when you were looking up Charles online and his face is everywhere along with all the other drivers.
”Hey mate, you haven’t introduced us.” Carlos said and sat down across from the two of you, Charles was telling you about what to expect during the rest of the day and the next two days before he was cut off by his teammate.
”Carlos meet y/n, y/n meet Carlos.” Charles introduced you and you gave the Spanish driver a smile and offered to shake his hand.
”Hey Carlos.”
“Hello, I didn’t know Charles was bringing anyone with him today.” Carlos said before he started eating.
“Yes, I had work and we weren’t sure if I could make it or not.” Half a lie, you knew you’d be here for a while but you did have work.
“Ah, so what do you do?” Carlos asked and he was expecting to hear a model.
”An artist.” Carlos was surprised and proceeded to ask you about what kind of art, where you studied and about living in Italy. The three if you walked back to the brahe together that’s when Charles informed his teammate that you speak Spanish.
”You know y/n speaks Spanish, she says fluently but I’m not good enough to verify that.” Charles said and you gave him a look that had him laughing.
”You don’t believe me?” You ask him and he shrugs innocently.
"No need to worry, I can verify it for you." Carlos fake comforted his teammate and turned to you. "So where did you learn Spanish?"
"I took online classes when I was in 8th grade." You told him and he was impressed, you laughed at his surprised look, you are fluent and your accent is good. "I went to Spain once and just loved the language."
"Mate, she's fluent." Carlos turned to look at Charles who laughed at the two of you, Carlos then turned and continued talking to you. Charles was needed for something and so he left the two of you talking, Carlos was asking you about where you went in Spain and if you want to go again, he recommended a few places and then he learnt you spoke six languages, and so you were made to talk to him in all of them and his face was priceless, had you laughing. He may not have understood everything but he
knows enough to know you're fluent.
"Charles, where did you find this one?" Carlos joked with Charles when he came back, and that had your smile faltering and for Charles to freeze a bit, if Carlos noticed he said nothing.
“It’s a secret.”
“Fine, have your secrets.”
The rest of the day went by nicely and seamlessly, the Ferrari boys did good, no one was beating Max but they've done good. You haven't checked your phone all day, when you made it back to the hotel, Charles went to shower and you laid on the sofa to scroll through. Your Instagram account has gained over 10K followers, you had pictures of your work more than ones of you, but the secret is out, now everyone knows you. You didn't dare check Twitter; the app always scares you.
You heard the shower turn off, when you got a call from your father you contemplated not answering but knowing this would make it much worse you just picked up.
“Hello.” you say on the phone and close your eyes tight, your head on the pillow.
“What do you think you're doing?” Was the first thing you heard, he was angry very angry at what you have no idea.
“Wh-”
“Shut up I'm not done talking, do you know what you've done, why are there more pictures of you and Carlos than with you and Charles. Do you want to ruin the family reputation, do you not take this seriously?”
“What are you talking about?” Today was good. You had fun today and you've done everything he asked you to do, yes reluctantly and you push it off but you do it nonetheless, you sit up as you get agitated. “I've done EVERYTHING you asked me to do, I was just talking to Carlos, there's nothing to it.”
“Don't you fucking talk back to me young lady, haven't done anything good your whole life, you never listen, tomorrow I better see you and Charles selling this or you'll feel the consequences to your actions.” He hangs up and you throw your phone away, cursing under your breath your body shakes with sobs, your head in your hands. Nothing is ever enough for your father, you're never enough.
Charles sighs and this time he doesn't think about it he sits down beside you and pulls you in for a hug, you let him, your face hiding in his neck. Charles shushes you and holds you, you're clutching his shirt in your fist. Charles has a good heart he
doesn't like seeing people crying and he's come to see you as a friend now, a new friend that he's getting to know. It makes him angry that a father would make their daughter cry this much and wouldn't care, he feels blessed for having his parents and makes him feel bad for you. Your childhood must've not been easy. He whispers words of comfort in French and lets you let it all out, your body is shaking for a while
before you slowly stop, when Charles looks down he sees you sleeping. He moves you slowly not wanting to wake you up and carries you bridal style, and he manages to get you to bed before you begin to stir.
"What?" you say confused.
"Hey, just sleep." Charles says and pushes your hair out of your face, you look around and realise you're in his bed.
“No, this is your bed.” You tell him and try to get up but he stops you.
“Just sleep, it can't be that comfortable on the sofa.” He says and you lay back down.
“But you have work tomorrow.” You mutter and rub your eye, it's a bit sensitive from all the crying you've been doing.
“It's fine, a night on the sofa wouldn't hurt me.” Charles says with a smile but you're stubborn, you’re not about to let a man that drives fast cars for a living sleep on the sofa and wake up with back pains.
“Well the bed is big, we can share.” You say and Charles looks at you, he takes you in, you're half asleep, your eyes puffy and bloodshot with tones of worries and things to think about but here you are wanting to make sure he's okay and comfortable.
“Okay, yeah.” Before Charles could make it to his side of the bed you're already asleep, he lays there and wonders how many times you've cried yourself to sleep, how many sleepless nights you've had, how many times you went though restless days by yourself. He knows you have two brothers, he knows they're kind to you that they're not like your parents, but they're not in your life, it seemed to him that they moved out once they were old enough and forgot about you a little, both with their own lives now.
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The next morning Charles asks you what your father wanted and you didn't really want to tell him at first but he managed to get it out of you.
"Just tell me from now on, we're both in this not just you." Charles tells you as he drives to the circuit.
“But this is your life, and this is your career and I just don't want to be a burden or for you to have to think that you have to be stuck with me all day or something.” You tell him, angling yourself to face him.
“y/n, we're a team, okay, for this to work we have to be always on the same page and I consider you my friend now, so just let me help you where I can and you help me where you can okay?” You smile at his words, a team, you have someone on your team.
“Okay.”
When you make it to the circuit, it's a repeat of the day before, you stand to the side while Charles does his thing and he walks in front of you, but half way through he stops and holds his hand out for you with a smile, you blink a couple of times before you take his hand. When you get to the garage Charles is whisked away for debrief and you're left there, you were looking at his car admiring the Ferrari, when a mechanic sees you and walks over.
"It's beautiful isn't it?" He asks and you look up at him with a smile.
“Yeah, it's been years since I was this close to a Formula 1 car.” You tell him, there's rumours around that you're a Morelli and everyone in Ferrari knows of your family, so it takes him by no surprise that you've been close to one before. “It's so different from the ones in the early 2000s.”
“Much different, we have done a lot of changes, look…” And he begins showing you what has changed, why cars nowadays are faster and stronger, the aerodynamics and mechanical differences, some things go over your head, but you know the basics of a formula 1 car.
When Charles finishes up, he sees you talking with the mechanic. He's leaning over the halo as he's showing you something, Charles smiles and walks over.
“Do you want to get in?” Charles asks and you turn to look at him startled, and excited, giddy even.
“Can I?” You ask with a grin and he nods, one of the PR crew takes out his phone to video this while another takes pictures, you're a Morelli and you're getting into the car and Charles is now back in a committed relationship so he's back in his good boy era, all things that made them want to document this happening.
“Place your foot here.” Charles says and points to a spot, you do as he says and he holds on to your waist as you wobble a little before you push yourself up and over the halo, he removes the steering wheel before you sit down and watches you as you get comfortable in his car. His smile is big on his face as you get excited.
“This is amazing.” You say and Charles puts back the steering wheel. You put your hands on the wheel. “So many buttons.”
“Can you reach the paddle?” Charles asked amused, he can tell that the seat is a bit big for you, you wiggle your leg and shake your head no.
“You should be thankful I'm shorter or I would've taken your seat.” You tease him and a few people laugh.
“You like the view from the car?” Charles asks and you nod looking up at him, he's leaning over the halo to look at you.
“Yeah, last time I was inside one I was like 6 or 7.” You tell him and he hums to himself, always finding something new about you, you were right about the fact that the booklet had many wrong things, it missed a lot as well.
At one point in the day Fred came over to say hello to you, he like everyone found out who you were.
“Ms. Morelli, it's nice to meet you.” You shake his hand and smile at the team principal.
“Please call me y/n, it's nice to meet you too.”
“It's been a while since we saw one of the Morelli's in the paddock.” Fred said and you felt Charles move a bit beside you. “haven't seen your father as well.”
“Yeah, well me and my siblings went to school and then uni and just were so busy.” You say and don't mention your father, he has a lot of influence in Ferrari. Charles has a hand on your back in comfort, it seems that after yesterday he's taken the role of comforting you, there's something that has definitely changed in your relationship, you've grown closer and you feel comfortable around each other.
“Yes of course, who knew it'll be Charles that'll bring you back.” He commented and you looked at Charles and smiled, he returned the smile with one of his own. You both knew the truth behind everything and it was killing you both to have to be lying to everyone like that, but why is it getting easier, why is it that since you've grown closer and find more about the other that it's not necessarily all lies.
The rest of the weekend went along great, you met a lot of people and as expected your name and your family's relation to Ferrari was everywhere. Those calling you a gold-digger have now turned to calling you attention seeker. You did post pictures of you to Instagram and the Ferrari team posted the video of you getting in the car, and somehow they found pictures of you in an F1 car from the 2000s, you've never seen that picture before but here it was. Charles texted you saying how you've been in a Ferrari way earlier than him, making you laugh imagining him pouting a little at the thought. After that weekend you've been texting more, talking more and just discovering everything about the other.
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A day before Charles has to fly to Monza you've both in Monaco for the 'family dinner' you've been dreading so much. You've made it to Charles's house to meet there before you head 'home'. Charles was in his bedroom finishing getting ready and you were on the sofa scrolling through your social media and texting your brothers to see when they'll be there.
“Is this okay?” Charles asks, coming out of his bedroom you look up from your phone and see him in a tan dress shirt, a blazer with a pair of dark pants, not skinny, he has one of his watches on and no other accessories. He. Looked. HOT.
“Yeah, just lose the jacket.” You say and stand up, he takes his jacket off and places it to the side. He holds his arms out for your opinion and you smile. Oh if you were a normal couple going to see your normal family, this would've been perfect. Instead you're going to see the man that's been threatening you both. You left your small carry-on at Charles' house, planning to head back to his, so you could fly out to Italy together.
Charles drove the small distance to your family house and parked in the space that's meant for you. You got a text from your brothers Telling you they're already there.
“Are you ready?” You ask Charles in the elevator.
“Yes, are you?” He doesn't want to see your father ever again, but this is much worse for you, you're related to that man.
“As I'll ever be.” You hesitate for a second before you say. “I’m sorry for what’s about to happen.”
“you don't have to.”
“I feel like I should though.” You both don't say more on the topic, as always a maid opens the door for you, and you both step inside, you're led to the formal living room, where the guests are always hosted, can't show everyone we're normal and have normal looking living rooms, oh no what will they say about us. The looks are where formal ends, because once you walk in you smile seeing how Matteo is sat with
his legs spread, and Marco is slouched in his seat, they're both being extra with it and you and your parents know it but it doesn't mean it's not funny.
"Oh y/n, dear I haven't seen you in so long." Your mum says and walks up to you kissing both your cheeks before she moves on quickly to Charles. “You must be Charles, it's good to finally meet you.”
“It's uh, it's good to meet you too.” Charles doesn't know what he expected but it wasn't this, his eyes moved from your mother to your brothers who had their sights on him, making him a bit nervous. They're protective of you, but so is he and they might not like him for marrying you, but he doesn't like them for not taking good care of you. He shakes all their hands and you exchange hugs, you don't bother saying or doing anything with your father other than a quick hello, before you both sit on a sofa together.
It's been four months since the start of this whole thing, and here you are all gathered together, the people affected, threatened, forced and orchestrated by this marriage.
"I heard you haven't won any races this season." Marco said and your eyes snapped to him, his tone is hostel, not friendly at all.
“No, RedBull has been dominating for a while." Charles says, shaking the dig thrown at him.
“He's been on podiums though.” You find yourself sticking up for Charles, he gives you a grateful look, which you return with a smile.
“So he hasn't been winning.”
“No one has been but Verstappen.” You roll your eyes at the childish behaviour your older brothers gained suddenly.
“And you grew up in Monaco?” Matteo then asks him.
“Where are you going with this?” You ask him confused by all the questions.
“What? I'm just getting to know my brother in law.” Matteo tried to act all harmless and innocent but you know your brothers well enough to know there's more to it than that.
“No you're not, please cut it out, it's not like we're all here because we want to anyways.” Your mum gasps, you give her a look, why is she acting like this is normal? You're all been forced to be here and as innocent as she likes to act, she's always in on what your father is up to. She knows everything.
“Let's move to the dining room, why don't we?” your father says and stands up, he thrived on chaos so he's happy how things are right now, split and concur is his favourite method. Charles takes your hand in his, making you pause and look at him he mouths 'it's okay,' and you nod and try to return the smile but you’re not confident and it shows.
Your mum made your brothers sit next to each other so you and Charles sat next to each other, he's closest to your mother and you're next to your father. Food was already laid out for all of you, the start of the meal was silent.
“You know y/n, I'm so happy you're finally in a relationship.” Your mother suddenly says and you stop the fork from reaching your mouth to look at her like she's crazy.
“What are you talking about?” Did she mean you and Charles or something else?
“I'm talking about you and Charles, you silly girl.” You scoff and place your fork on the table.
“You do know that we're forced right? You were here when your husband told me.” Your father sighs not liking where this is going, he's okay with you and your brothers doing whatever to each other but for a twisted reason that is not love he hates when you speak back to your mother.
“Yes mother, and besides, Charles isn't really a golden boy to be proud of having as a son-in-law.” Marco takes the chance to bring Charles in again, he's showing him that he doesn't approve of him.
“You know if you didn't like it, why didn't you stop this?” Charles asks Marco, he's tired of being blamed and the one taking the hits when the person responsible for all of this is sitting two seats down from him.
“Because he threatened to cut us off and stop us from working.” Marco was getting agitated and angry.
“Marco shut up!” You exasperated.
“And what? You let your sister take the fall for you, so you could live happily.” Charles shot back, anger for you cursing through his veins.
“Everyone calm down.” Your mum tried to reason but everyone ignored her.
“Oh so you think you care more about her than we do, now?” Matteo sneers and you groan, this testosterone fight is only going to lead to chaos.
“I wasn't the one who left her alone.”
“Okay, you all shut up right now!” your father shouted and everyone fell silent again. “This is unacceptable, Charles and y/n will be married, and you're all going to be happy about it and that's the last I'll hear of it.”
“So now you're telling us how to feel?” The words leave your mouth before you realise, Charles takes your hand in his, and you slowly look from the plate you had in front of you and up to your father, there’s not going back now. “You've dictated our lives, and even now we're all adults you're making us do what you want, we've done
everything you've asked, but you've never been happy, we were never good enough for you.”
“Don't talk back to me.”
“No, it's not fair, you sold me to someone you don't know, I'm your daughter.” You say and turn to look at your mother. “And you keep acting like you love us, when you know everything and just do nothing, you've never stood up to us.” She takes a sip from her wine glass. “Yes, that's all you do, drink.” You stand up and throw your napkin on the plate. “Let's go Charles.”
Charles stands up and follows you out, as your father shouts after you. “You stop right there you stupid girl.”
“I'll get married, okay, I'll do it, I'll do everything in the contract, anything other than that is none of your business.” You say not turning to look at him as you spoke those words and leave your hand clutching Charles's tightly.
Charles doesn't let go of your hand, and it gives you comfort, you have someone on your side at all times now, looking at Charles you're happy it's him you'll marry and not someone else.
“Thank you.” Your voice is just over a whisper, the dinner took too much out of you.
“Why? I don't think I've made it better.”
“No, you made it all so much better.” Charles sends you a questioning look, tightening your hold on his hand. “You were by my side.”
“I'll always be on your side.” Charles says and your heart skips a beat, there, he's done it, Charles Leclerc has done it, he has your heart, it belongs to him now and there's nothing you or anyone could do to change this. Charles doesn't let go of your hand when you arrive, he just holds your hand when you're walking off to his house, not in the elevator, not until you walk in. “Come on, I think we need to talk.”
You sit on the sofa with your legs under you and Charles also sits down facing you.
“I think we should've had this conversation a long time ago.” Charles starts, your heart beats faster in your chest as your eyes meet and you both don't look away. “Why did you agree to this marriage?”
“Because my father said if I don't he’ll cut us all off, he'll make sure none of us ever find work again, and my brothers, they have families and children, I couldn't let him do that to them.” you tell him and push your hair back. “I was happy the last couple of years in Italy and then he just dropped the bomb on me, and… here we are.”
“Here we are.”
“Why did you agree to it?” You've had your theories at the start of this relationship, but as you've gotten to know Charles you realised how wrong you are.
“I know you've read all the articles about me, it's a long story but I've been with my girlfriend for almost five years when I found out she was cheating on me.- Charles said his voice soft, making you take his hand in yours and give him a squeeze. “I spiraled after that, other than racing which isn't going great, I was always drinking and sleeping around, it affected me her cheating more than I thought it'd ever way, it just shocked me and left me not knowing what to do, my reputation was going down and the sponsors were getting anxiety so your father told me if I don't agree to this I'd kiss my dream goodbye, no future in Formula 1, and I couldn't, it's been my dream and I promised my father I'd do everything I could to be world champion and..."
“You haven't made it yet.”
“No, not yet.” You smile before you laugh, Charles looks at you like you're crazy and you shake your head. “Sorry, it's just so messed up, this whole thing is just so messed up.”
”It is.” Charles chuckles and you sigh, this is all a bit too much. “But I’m glad it’s you.”
An involuntary smile makes its way to your face, you just melted, heart skipping a beat and butterflies in your stomach. the whole shebang.
“I’m happy it’s you too, Charlie.” Hearing you call him Charlie makes him smile, your gaze not straying from the other, basking in the moment, a moment you could ignore everything and everyone, a moment that’s just between you too. Maybe this whole arranged marriage thing will be okay in the end.
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Next day you both fly out in Charles’s private jet with his family and team, Lorenzo is still standoffish, but now that you know that he’s in on everything you don’t blame him. He’s not rude to you at all, but he’s cold, something that you attributed to how he was raised. Even though he knows his brother is forced into it, he hasn’t been rude after the first time you met, when he just found out the truth.
The plane landed in Milan where you live, but you went with the family to Monza for the race, promising to take Charles to your studio after the weekend.
The first two days, media and FP1-2, go like how all the other races go, this time you’ve met more drivers, you met Pierre and Kika are one of the ones you met and was found talking to. You and the model exchanged details and followed each other on Instagram, you all went out to have dinner after media day, and you and Kika sat together talking all the time, with Charles and Pierre sat on each side of you not understanding how two people who just met could have this much to talk about and how you talk about everything.
pierregasly posted to their story
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caption[ I think i lose my girlfriend @/charles_leclerc]
Charles_leclerc reposted to his story
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Caption [looks like it mate]
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Lorenzo was watching the both of you with hawk eyes, he felt like things have changed between the two of you or you’ve become better actors, because why does Charles have his hand on the back of your chair, why is your hands laced together a lot, why are you leaning into him, are do you have inside jokes and share those knowing looks. You’re having deep conversation, a closeness and ease that hasn’t been there before. So he takes the moment you went to Charles’s driver’s room to leave your bag there and took his brother to the side.
”What’s going on with you and y/n?” Enzo asked Charles, his brows furrowing.
”What are you talking about?” Charles asked, his breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding, he’s been denying his growing feelings for you, but it seemed like his brother picked up on it. “We’re just trying to make the best of a… difficult situation.”
Lorenzo wasn’t convinced he knew Charles, he knows there’s more to it.
“Don’t lie to me and don’t lie to yourself, Charles.” Lorenzo said his tone leaving no space for argument. “I can see the way you look at her, the way you care about her, you like her, and I think she likes you too.”
For a moment Charles was silent, his mind racing with emotions and he’s thinking about the time you’ve come to share together and how he’s been enjoying it. he had spent so long denying his feelings for you, burying them down, he tried to tell himself that no he doesn’t find you the prettiest most beautiful woman he has ever met, he hates when you go on rants about the things you love, he hates that you’ve picked up on so many habits he has and have come to understand him, he hates how you’re passionate and warm and kind and soft and elegant, he hates it, he just hates it. But here he is standing in front of his brother, the walls that have been down for a while are just made apparent to him, he just realised them. He nods, and a smile slowly appears on his face.
”Yeah, I do, I do like her.” Charles says his eyes are not meeting his brother’s as he’s lost in thought, his brows move slightly together and then he’s shaking his head no. “No, actually I love her.”
Lorenzo’s expression softened at his brother’s admission, a sense of understanding coming over him. “Then just embrace it, and let her know.”
”I just wish we met under different circumstances.” Charles confessed, his voice tinged with regret. “But either way, I’m just glad that fate brought y/n into my life.”
And as they stood there in the hustle and bustle of the garage, Charles knew that he’s ready, he’s ready to tell you what he feels and maybe start dating for real this time, have a samples of normality in your relationship before you get married.
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After Sunday, Charles’s family flies back to Monaco and the Ferrari driver comes with you to Milan.
“Promise me you won’t judge.” You say to Charles after you turn to look at him, your studio’s key is already in the door waiting for you to twist it.
”I promise, mon amour.” Charles says and your face lights up at his pet name, you couch and turn to face the door.
”Didn’t have to say that.” You mutter and feel your cheeks turn pink, you open the door and lead Charles in, the big windows let in so much light but you go and turn on the light as well. The studios was spacious with high ceiling, paintings where leaning on the wall, a couple were covered, there was pain stains on the ground on the walls, there was a small kitchen to the side and a bathroom, there’s a pull out sofa against one wall with a few chairs littering the place and table with wheels, a table with no wheels, drawers of supplies and easels. This place truly looked like an artist's dream, it was messy but organised, it was all you.
”Wow.” Charles says and walks to the wall that had paintings on it, you follow him, keeping your eyes on him as you take in every little reaction he has. “You’re so talented y/n.”
”Thank you.” You reply softly. “You can flip through the paintings if you want, I'll make us tea.”
Charles has seen a lot of your work on your instagram and you’ve shown him a lot but seeing them in real life he realised they weren’t given justice with the photos, there’s so much detail in the work you’ve done, each brush stroke pressed with intention. Charles moved to the two covered ones, they were on the big size, his curiosity got the best of him and he pulled the fabric down.
”Wait Charles-“ It was too late, he saw them, his mouth hanging open as he stared at… himself.
“That’s-that’s me.” You sigh feeling embarrassed, your face turning red.
”Yeah.” You mumble and cough.
”Fucking hell, mon amour.” Charles turns to look at you and you’re looking away refusing to look in his direction, his eyes soften at your embarrassment. Charles walks up to you and you’re refusing to look at him, so gently cups your cheeks and your eyes meet his, getting lost in the shades of blue and green in his eyes. the shades you know from memory, the colours you painted and brought to life on your canvas. Charle’s breath gets caught in his throat, the words he was planning to say slipping from his mind, so he just presses his lips to yours, you gasp a little before following his lead, your hands clutching his shirt. It’s a moment of vulnerability, the product of simmering feelings that bubbled to reach the surface. your kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and desperate with each passing moment, as you’re trying to pour all your pent-up feeling, emotions and desires into this single electrifying moment. You move closer, your bodies pressed together, holding to each other’s curves, the intensity bordering on desperation.
When you broke apart, gasping for breath Charles’s hands are still cupping your face, his eyes ablaze with fire that threatened to consume you both.
”I love you, y/n.” He whispered, his voice raw with emotion, your heart swelled with joy at his words, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you reaches up to caress his cheek.
“And I love you Charles, with everything that I am.”
With a shared understanding and longing and love you sealed the moment with another searing kiss, letting together us a oissionate embrace that seemed to stretch on forever. In that moment, amidst the quietness of the studio, you were no longer bound by a contract, but by the pure and unadulterated love for each other. In each other’s arms you’ve found the only solace and sanctuary you’ve ever needed or wanted.
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It’s not to say that everything turned out to be what you wanted, in a couple months and while Charles was on his winter break your wedding was set. There was no talking your father out of it, but you weren’t dreading the moment anymore. You know that fate was going to bring you together in the end, one way or the other. Yes you’d still be dating, but in the end you’d get engaged and then married. Speaking of engaged, Charles did propose to you, it was a private event, only the two of you on his yacht away from prying eyes, with soft music playing in the background. The monegasque got down on one knee and asked you to marry him. Ignoring the fact that you’re bound by a contact you agreed instantly, tears in your eyes and a smile on your face.
But here you are now standing across from Charles, your eyes locked in a silent exchange if understanding, the weight of their circumstances hung heavy in the air. The officiant, cleared his throat and said his words singling to you to start your vows.
Charles took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering as he spoke his voice steady yet laced with emotions.
”y/n, I know that our beginning is not the one we would’ve liked for each other, but I’m glad that it did. But I know that fate has intertwined our future together, one way or the other I would’ve made my way to you. In you, I have found a companion, a confidante and a source of strength. I vow to stand by your side through everything that may come our way, to support you, to cherish you and to love you with all that I am, for as long as we live.”
Your heart swelled with emotion as you listened to Charles’ words, your eyes shining with unshed tears. You took a moment to compose yourself before speaking your voice soft but unwavering.
“Charles, Charlie.” You begin and your voice starts to tremble with emotion the more you speak. “When we first met I never imagined that our paths would be so intertwined, that I’d reach a point where I can’t imagine living without you. In you I have found a partner in crime, in life. You’ve showed me so much love that I never experienced before and for that I’ll be always grateful, I vow to stand by your side to be on your team, to lift you up when you falter, to love you unconditionally and with every fibre of my being.”
In that moment, those who doubted you, those that thought they won, those that wished your relationship would end, all knew that as you shared your first kiss as husband and wife, that you’re a team, a family, and that nothing can bring you down. You made each other stronger, you made each other happy, and you had your whole futures in front of you to heal all the wounds you had in the past, you’ll both grow and heal and live together.
Your journey is far from over, there’s so much that you’ll face. But you’ll face it together in each other’s arms, where you felt the purest kind of happiness.
1K notes · View notes
aemondsbabe · 6 months
Text
Taunt
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obviously, i feel very normal and chill about ewan's new performance in saltburn. anyways lmao this is my version of michael gavey from the vibes i got from him in the 5 seconds he's in the trailer! i have no idea if this is accurate to how he is truly portrayed in the movie! if the movie comes out and i'm totally wrong, then i don't care bc i got to have fun writing about a cheeky lil oxford student!!
summary: you're nearly failing statistics and the student your professor asks to tutor you seems to gain a sick satisfaction from seeing you squirm; he hates you...or so think.
pairing: michael gavey x reader
warnings: mature, 18+ (minors, do not enter!!!) no use of Y/N, afab reader, profanity, smut, piv smut, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), dom/sub, brief daddy kink (literally one mention), dirty talk, dumbification, humiliation (only a bit), size kink if you squint, mild angst but happy ending, choking i guess (barely), public sex (they're alone but like it's still public lmao), brief discussions of math -- please let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 10.5k (dear lord)
a/n: baby's first fic omg! if you enjoy this one and want to see more from me, please feel free to send in requests! (GoT, HoTD, Stranger Things, Marvel, etc!)
PRAISE | Taunt Part 2
MAKING AMENDS | Bonus
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!🌟
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“Right, so,” Professor Davies began, pulling a thick textbook off the shelf next to his desk, “Since we’ve only just returned from Easter holiday, I thought I’d go easy on you today.” 
A few quiet groans could be heard around the room, a couple students turning to look at one another with grimaces; in the few weeks you’ve been in Professor Davies’s class, he’s never once gone easy on you. With a small sigh, you shuffle through your spiral notebook until you come to a blank page. 
“D’you think you’ll go to the party this weekend?” Louise whispers, leaning over closer to you as she twirls a pen around in her fingers, “I heard this one is supposed to be fucking insane.”
“Like any of Felix’s parties aren’t insane?” You whisper back, smirking as you doodle a small flower on the corner of a page of paper, “Of course I’ll be there,” you murmur, watching as Professor Davies writes an intricate formula on the chalkboard, “I could really use a break, anyway…I’ve been so stressed recently.”
“Christ…” A boy, in the row of desks in front of you scoffs, just barely shaking his head as he copies down the formula, his handwriting sharp and choppy. You feel blood rush to your cheeks as you narrow your eyes, staring intently at his sandy hair. You didn’t really know him, this being your only class with him, but you’d seen him around campus, regularly passing by him in the halls. Oxford may be a large university, but when you’re on campus everyday, you begin recognizing familiar faces. 
He didn’t run in the same crowds as you at all, and you got the distinct impression that he looked down on you and the rest of your friends, but you knew his name – Michael and that he was incredibly smart, his hand promptly shooting into the air anytime Professor Davies asked a question. In the few weeks you’d been in the same statistics class, you had yet to see him get a question wrong, watching as he grinned, cocky, everytime he was praised for correctly solving even the most intricate of formulas. 
You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more the opposite, always shying away and praying not to hear Professor Davies call your name in his deep, baritone voice every time his eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a volunteer, or victim, more like. While Michael clearly enjoyed the class, practically glowing with an arrogant confidence as soon as he walked into the wood paneled lecture hall, you were simply here to check it off as a requirement of your major, hoping to survive the class with a C and nothing more. 
It was annoying, you wouldn’t deny that, the way that smug smirk seemed to be permanently etched onto his face, how that stupid taunting glimmer was an ever-present fixture of his blue eyes — blue eyes which, seemingly, always managed to find their way to you, one way or another. 
His attention was intimidating at first, his cold stare leaving you unsure of what exactly his intention was. Was he trying to challenge you? Trying to determine if he knew you from somewhere else? A small part of you, a naive part, hoped that his staring was meant to be affectionate; he was cute, you’d admit it! Always showing up to class in cozy knit sweaters, his wavy hair still ruffled and untidy as if he’d just gotten out of bed, gold rimmed glasses perched atop a strong nose.
You quickly tear your gaze away from the back of Michael’s head, biting your bottom lip as you begin copying down the problem on the chalkboard, pausing briefly when you see, from the corner of your eye, his head turn as he glances at you over his shoulder. You felt your cheeks flush despite yourself, that small, sanguine voice in the back of your head cheering. 
“Now, then,” Professor Davies booms, dropping the textbook down on his desk with a cacophonous thud before sweeping his eyes across the classroom, “A bit of review before we really dive in…” He continues, pacing around the front of the room as he explains the various parts and pieces of the equation on the board. 
“What do you think you’ll wear?” Louise asks, leaning over once more to whisper in your ear, you can smell her signature floral perfume on her hair, “I was thinking I’d do that new blue-ish dress I got, you know, the strappy one?”
“Might still be too cold for strappy,” you whisper back, half listening to the professor drone on as you continue doodling on your paper, pausing every few minutes to jot down a few haphazard notes, “I was just thinking I’d do a jumper, probably a skirt and tights–”
Suddenly, you hear Professor Davies call your name, your cheeks practically stinging as blood rushes to your face. Sitting up straighter, you finally find the courage to meet his stern gaze, “Since you seem all too eager to share your thoughts,” He continues slowly stalking towards you across wooden floorboards that softly creak beneath his feet, “Would you care to enlighten us with the solution to the quadratic equation on the board?” He comes to a stop, hands clasped behind his back as he patiently waits for you to answer, a small, knowing smile poised on his lips. 
“I– uhm, well,” you stutter, glancing back and forth between your barely there notes and the chalkboard, throat growing tighter as you feel everyone's eyes on you, “Don’t you need to solve for G first?”
“And how would you go about doing that?”
“Well, you would…” You trail off, desperately trying to remember the lessons you’d had before Easter holiday, absentmindedly picking at your cuticle as you pray to be anywhere but here or for a hole to open in the floor and swallow you whole, “I…I don’t recall, professor. I’m sorry.” You finally say, not being able to meet his gaze as you stare intently at your lap, desperately willing yourself not to cry, even as you feel your eyes stinging. 
“Perhaps, in the future, it would be of benefit to socialize with your friends outside of my classroom.” Professor Davies admonishes, giving a sharp glare to Louise as well, who manages an apologetic smile. “Yes, Professor.” You whisper, keeping your eyes downturned. 
Finally, you hear the floorboards softly creaking once more as Professor Davies makes his way back up to the podium at the front of the room and once again resumes his lecture. You can’t help but pause for a second when you hear a small snicker from the tall boy in front of you, sensing as he peers at you over his shoulder once again. 
“Would anyone else like to take a crack at the problem on the board?” Professor Davies asks, leaning against the old, worn podium at the front of the room. Like clockwork, Michael’s hand shoots into the air. Somehow, that makes you blush even harder.
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Eventually, Professor Davies finishes his lecture and retrieves his dark leather briefcase from under the desk, pulling a thick stack of papers out and sitting them on the podium, leaning over it with a sigh, “I have your tests graded. Most of you did very well, you should be pleased with yourselves. Some of you, however,” He says pointedly, “Could benefit greatly from a closer study of the material.”
Slowly, he walks around the room passing back tests, throwing out a comment here and there as he did so. You already know you hadn't done well on that particular test and dread getting it back and confirming your suspicions, so you keep yourself busy, choosing to meticulously pack up your things instead. 
“Mr. Gavey,” he said a few feet away from you, papers rustling as he slid the test across the wooden surface of the long bench desks, “Once more, an outstanding job! Top of the class, keep it up.” 
“Thank you, Professor,” you glance up, watching as he takes the paper with a humble nod, that same, oh-so pleased smile gracing his angular face. He must sense you looking at him and quickly shifts his gaze in your direction, eyes glimmering with self-satisfaction behind his gold-rimmed glasses as his smile quickly turns into a smirk. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his with a small, bewildered huff. Why did he seem to get so much satisfaction from besting you, of all people? It’s not like you were exactly an academic threat. 
“Ms. Bickerstaff,” Professor Davies says, finally appearing next to the table you and Louise sat at, “Not bad, a bit more effort next time and you’re sure to be on track,” he remarks, sliding her paper across the desk. Louise thanks him with a small smile as she flips through her test, eyes scanning over his marks. 
Finally, Professor Davies stands before you once again, your paper the very last in his hands. You hear him mutter your last name before he slides the paper across the desk to you, and you can’t help but deflate as you see your grade; you knew it would be bad, but that? How on Earth were you going to recover your average? What if you had to retake the whole course? What if you failed out of Oxford entirely? Your parents had sacrificed so much to help you get here, spending years and untold amounts of money on private tutors and extracurricular materials, all to help you have an impressive application! Not to mention the money just for the course fees! Unlike most of your friends, you didn’t come from piles and piles of money and status – your family was alright, sure, but you were definitely several tax brackets below them. 
As your thoughts spiraled, you felt Louise elbow you in the side at the same time you heard Professor Davies address you again. Shaking your head to clear your scattered thoughts, you clear your throat and finally turn to look up at him, “Sorry, yes, Professor?” 
“As I was saying,” Professor Davies continues, tapping the papers in front of you, “I would like to discuss your performance with you today, after class. Please meet me at the front of the room before you go.”
“Yes, sir.” you mumble dejectedly, nodding as you quickly flip the test over, embarrassed at the thought of anyone else seeing your grade. 
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“I’ll see you later, babes,” Louise says a few minutes later as everyone is clearing out of the room, “Good luck!” She whispers, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before making her way to the door.
“Thanks!” you smile weakly, swallowing the lump in your throat before picking up your things and heading to the front of the room. The afternoon sun is already getting lower in the sky, beams of light shining into the room, bathing rectangular swaths of the floor in bright, golden light and highlighting motes of dust as they scatter in the air. Only a few students are left in the classroom, some of them finishing up notes while others type out quick texts. As you walk by his desk, you notice Michael scribbling down notes in his planner. 
You shuffle your feet nervously as you stand in front of the sizable oak desk that your professor sits at, watching as he adds a sticky note to the top of another stack of papers, “You wanted to see me, Professor?”
“Ah, yes!” He says, looking up at you over his glasses. He quickly caps his pen and stands, walking around the desk to stand in front of you, “I know this class has been quite the challenge,” he begins, leaning against the desk, “But, I think I’ve found a solution for you.” 
“You have?” You ask, tilting your head in confusion.
“I think you could benefit greatly from a tutor, perhaps a peer who could explain the material to you in a different way,” he continues, “And I have just the student in mind.” Instantly, you feel a pit beginning to form in your stomach, biting your bottom lip as you watch Professor Davies motion for someone behind you to come up to the desk, “Mr. Gavey, if you could join us up here, please.”
You freeze when you feel him saunter up beside you, eyeing him out of the corner of your eye. He was so much taller than you, your head barely grazing his shoulder, as he came to a stop next to you, standing casually with his backpack slung over one shoulder. 
Professor Davies once again turns his attention to you, motioning to Michael as he speaks, “Mr. Gavey here is one of my most capable students,” you can’t help but notice him stand up straighter at the comment, growing somehow even taller, “I’ve taken the liberty of asking him if he would be so kind as to assist you with some of the course work and he agreed.” You freeze a little at that, stunned that he would be so quick to help you when he seems to relish any opportunity to make you squirm. “I’ve given it some thought,” the professor continues, fixing you with a stern gaze, “And I’m willing to let you make corrections to your test and resubmit it for half credit.”
“Oh, thank you so much, prof–”
“However,” he adds, crossing his arms over his chest, “This will be the only time I do so. From now on, I suggest you see Mr. Gavey here on a regular basis; the material is only going to get more challenging as we begin this next unit.”
“Of course, professor. Thank you again.” You respond quietly, shifting uneasily as you stand between the two men. 
“Right, well, now that’s sorted,” Professor Davies says, clapping his hands together once as he turns and makes his way back over to the desk chair, sitting down with a tired sigh, “I trust the two of you can come to an agreement upon when and where to meet. I’ll see you again Monday, have a pleasant weekend.” He says, waving his hand dismissively as he goes back to organizing his papers. 
The two of you murmur your goodbyes before making your way into the hall, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as he follows you out of the classroom. Eventually, you come across a small alcove in the hallway; finally turning to face him, you let your eyes sweep up his body, finally coming to meet his blue eyes, slightly hidden behind the glare of the hallway lights on his glasses. 
“So,” you clear your throat and shift on your feet awkwardly, “Uh, what time works for you? I really can’t do Saturdays–” you begin, only to be cut off.
“Shame,” Michael sighs dismissively, a smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth, “Saturday is the only day that works for me.” 
The tone of his voice and the mirthful glint in his eyes makes you very much doubt that, your gaze narrowing, “Okay, well Saturday’s are the only day I have off,” you huff, only growing more annoyed as the stupid smirk on his face grows with satisfaction, no doubt pleased that he’s being a nuisance, “Besides, I super can’t tomorrow, anyway. I already promised my friends I’d come with them to this party tha–”
“Oh, I know about your little party,” Michael scoffs, “Trust me, love, the whole damn class heard about that stupid fucking party with the way you lot were running your mouths earlier,” he chuckles coldly, continuing in an exaggerated high-pitched voice, one hand coming up to mime twirling a lock of hair, “Oooooh, it’s so cold, can’t wear the fuckin’ strappy dress, gotta wear me jumper and little slutty skirt, la-dee-dah.” He finishes with a final huff of laughter. 
“What is your deal with me?!” You finally snap, glaring at him, even as you feel your face redden, “You’ve been a dick all semester and I haven’t done anything to you! I’ve never even talked to you!” Glancing around the empty hallway, you cross your arms over your chest, praying no one’s in earshot to hear your hissed tirade.
“I might not know you but I know plenty about your little friends,” he sneers, shaking his head like a disappointed father; the sight makes your blood boil.
“What does that even mean?” You demand, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. What did your friends have to do with any of this? None of them ever spoke about Michael, none of them even knew him as far as you were aware. 
His face softens, if only for a moment, as he registers the genuine confusion on your face, smirk faltering as his eyes narrow. He leans in closer to you as he begins speaking again and you can’t help but get a brief smell of the cologne he wears, something warm and woodsy that makes you think of a bookshop and the smell of the forest after it rains, “Come on,” he starts, blue eyes flitting between both of yours as he looks at you intently, “Felix Catton? You and your little friend, the one from class, you go around with him, yeah?”
You nod, giving him another puzzled look, confused as to what the hell Felix has to do with any of his disdain, “Yeah,” you say slowly, drawing out the word, “But, what does he have to do with anything?”
Michael huffs once more, almost laughing to himself as he shakes his head, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “See, we went to school together, him and I – some of primary, all of secondary,” he shrugs, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he traps you in his gaze once again, “And I just don’t fucking like the guy. Can’t stand him, never could’ve.” 
You’re silent for a second, and now it’s your turn to flick your eyes back and forth, searching each of his for some sort of coherent answer and yet you come up empty. “But, what does that have to do with me?” You ask slowly, making sure to carefully enunciate each word.
“Don’t trust the people around him either,” he mutters, gazing down at his shoe, “Weirdos, the whole lot. There’s something…off about the guy. Can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something dark there, all around him. Like he’s putting on one big show. All his little gremlins do too, they all act the same.”
The two of you are silent for a moment, neither knowing quite what to say next. You chance a glance up at him, nearly gasping when you find him already gazing at you – an unreadable expression on his face. Yet a light blush still blooms on your cheeks as you quickly look away once again, your heart thudding so loudly you’re wondering if he can hear it – hell, you’re wondering why you’re reacting this way at all, why you’re so shy and skittish around him. 
“M’not like that,” you very nearly whisper, finally seeming to regain your voice. Only to lose it once again when he takes a half step toward you, suddenly crowding you further into the small alcove.
He makes a small noise, damn near cooing at you, tilting his head to the side when he notices you flinch as he raises an arm, gently raising your chin with one hand, angling your head up to meet his gaze, that signature smirk once again taking hold on his face as he looks at you curiously, “You’re not like that, are you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy. 
You quickly shake your head, blinking up at him, unsure of what exactly he wants from you. You feel your cheeks stinging for the umpteenth time today with how hard you’re blushing, a strange feeling taking root in your stomach the longer you stare at him, that small voice in your head positively cheering. 
But, as quickly as whatever spell he seems to have on you takes hold, it’s broken as he suddenly lets go of your chin and steps back, casually pursing his lips and nodding to himself, coming to some unknown decision in his head, “Meet me in Bodleian, tomorrow at five. There’s hardly anyone up on the third floor on the weekends, so we'll be able to focus.” He says simply, turning on his heel to leave without even giving you a second to answer.
“But I’m bus–”
“D’you want a good grade or do you want to go get drunk with your creepy gremlin friends?” He asks, peering over his shoulder as he saunters down the hallway, raising an eyebrow at you over the shiny gold rim of his glasses, “S’your call, love.” He finishes with a shrug, disappearing as he turns a corner and leaves you standing there alone, frowning and dumbstruck. 
“Bodleian at five it is,” you mutter to yourself, sighing as you turn and walk the opposite way, desperately trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach and the fog in your brain. 
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Your shoes tap against the stone pavement as you walk up to the old library, backpack slung over one shoulder; reaching into a pocket of your backpack, you blindly grab for your phone as you pull open one of the heavy, old wooden doors and step into the atrium. Out of all of Oxford’s libraries, you had to admit that Bodleian was one of your favorites; it had such a soothing atmosphere – from the way the evening light trickled in through the old glass windows, to the intricate wooden decor, and the way the entire place smelled of the old, well-loved books that lined the countless rows of shelves. 
Stepping to the side of the entryway, you check the time, your hand shaking a bit as you unlock your phone – 4:53pm, a little early, still. Sighing, you crane your head, nervously looking for Michael. Not seeing him, you decide to bide your time examining one of the tall bookshelves near the entrance, eyes skimming over their titles as you fiddle with the strings of the hoodie you’d decided to wear. Smiling, you lean up on your tiptoes to grab a copy of The Two Towers, happy to see a familiar book. Just as your fingers graze over the embossed gold lettering on the spine of the book, a large pair of hands grab you by the shoulders.
“Boo!” Someone whispers, close enough that you feel the warmth of their breath on the side of your neck. 
You spin around with a small shriek, jerking your head to the side when a hand is suddenly clasped over your mouth.
“Shh! Hey, relax!” Finally managing to focus on the face in front of you, your breathing slows as your gaze meets a pair of round blue eyes. Michael’s face is only inches from yours, concern evident, even behind the mask of a smirk he wears. “It’s only me.” He says softly, smirk softening into a genuine smile that sends a frantic tingle down your spine, which you desperately try to ignore as you nod against his hand, gasping in a small breath as it lowers once again to rest on your shoulder. 
“Hi.” Blinking up at him, you breathe the word more so than say it as you settle back on your feet, cheeks flushing as you realize he has his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you forward ever so slightly, like he wanted to make sure your head didn’t hit the sharp edge of one of the shelves; the voice in your head purrs as the butterflies in your stomach summersalt. 
“Hi.” He answers and you feel the hand on your shoulder twitch, the ghost of a comforting squeeze or rub causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end as some strange, warm weight settles in the pit of your stomach. 
Suddenly, whatever spell the two of you seemed to be under broke and you quickly clambered away from one another. Michael cleared his throat, running a hand through his wheat colored hair as you tugged at the sleeves of your hoodie, trying to look anywhere but in his direction. “Should we–” He starts suddenly, nodding his head to a staircase at the other end of the room, “It’ll be quieter up there.”
“Sure!” You chirp, giving him a curt nod, “Lead the way, you seem to know the place better than I do.”
“Well,” he chuckles, keeping his voice low as he moves past you, “S’what happens when you don’t spend all your damn time at weirdo parties.” 
You roll your eyes behind him, huffing as you start following him up the staircase, one of your hands gliding across the smooth, polished wood of the bannister. 
“Sorry.” He says suddenly as you reach the third floor of the library, running a hand through his hair once again as he stands at the top of the staircase. 
“What?” You ask, coming to a stop on the last step and looking up at him, tilting your head to the side as you lean against the handrail. 
“For earlier,” he explains, gesturing for you to follow him as he starts making his way to the back corner of the large, open space, the one furthest from the stairs, “Scaring you, I mean. Didn’t mean to.”
You’re quiet for a moment, following him as the two of you walk past aisle after aisle of towering bookshelves. The area is definitely quieter than the main floor, nearly vacant aside from one or two lone students sitting at the long wooden study tables. It’s calm up here, evening light filtering in through large windows on either end of the long room, casting large shadows on the floor and vaulted ceilings.
Eventually, the two of you come to a stop at a table, the very last in its row, tucked away in a corner. “It’s alright,” you shrug, trying to keep your voice soft in the quiet space as you sit your backpack on the edge of the table, “I don’t know why I’m so jumpy today, maybe the tea from earlier.” You lie, hopefully smoothly, and quickly grab a pen and notebook as well, before sitting down.
Michael huffs to himself as he sits his things out on the table as well, like he’s laughing at a joke you can’t hear, “Maybe it’s all that tension.”
“Wh– tension?” You question, cringing at the urgency in your voice as you pray that he doesn’t pick up on it, shifting in your seat as he pulls out the chair next to you and plops down, completely relaxed as if he owns the place. 
“The stress? That you were meant to be working out at Catton’s?” He gives you an odd look, resting his head against his hand as he leans his elbow on the table, “Couldn’t help but overhear your little conversation yesterday.”
“Oh…” You breathe, a pink haze settling over your cheeks once more as you fidget with your pen, acutely aware of how easily he seems to be able to make you blush. 
The smirk on his face widens as he narrows his eyes, studying you in a way that makes your heart squeeze, your thighs clenching together as that heady weight from earlier makes itself known again in your stomach, “You can’t keep one thought in that head, can you, love?”
You blink, unsure of what to say, as two halves of your brain argue with one another. Why is he so mean? You wonder to yourself, eyes searching his, as you frown, And…God, why do I like it?
“Why don’t you like me?” You ask, finally breaking the silence with your small voice. 
He scoffs again, shaking his head as if the answer should be obvious to you, “You don’t take it seriously. You come to class and whisper and gossip with your damn friend or doodle in your little notebook, but you don’t fucking listen.” He sits back up, frowning, “I work hard every fucking day in there, for fuck’s sake, I only agreed to help you because I want to be Davies’s teaching assistant next year! Yet you and Catton and everyone like you can just pay their way in here, collecting a little diploma from Oxford just so their parents can brag about it with their stupid fucking rich friends.” He finally finishes, turning his head to stare out the window. 
“Told you, I’m not like that,” you whisper after a moment, voice wavering from the tightness in the back of your throat, “I’m here on scholarship, same as you.” 
His eyes flit back to you, his frown deepening, “How did you know ab–”
“Like I’m not going to ask around about the guy tutoring me?”
“Fair enough.” He concedes after a minute. 
Silence settles over the two of you again, like a stalemate, waiting to see who would crack first. Finally, you turn to him with a sigh, nodding to your test paper on the desk, “Can we just get this done? I don’t want to be here any more than you do.”
“Ah, of course,” he nods as he picks up your test, looking over the first incorrect problem, “Catton’s big important party. And you’re stuck here with a loser like me; must really be doing your head in, huh?” 
You want so badly to correct him, to tell him that no, actually, for once, you were kind of excited to not be at one of Felix’s parties. You wanted to tell him that you’d hoped things would be different, maybe if it was just the two of you he would drop the arrogant asshole bit, that you stupidly hoped it was just an act. 
Instead, you bite your lip, determined not to lash out and give him another reason to dislike you, “I don’t think you’re a loser, Michael,” you say, tiredly meeting his gaze, “Can we just focus on this now, please?” 
He’s quiet for a moment, frozen like you’d said something groundbreaking. Finally, he nods his head, almost imperceptibly like he’d come to a decision you weren’t privy to, “Sure,” he says gruffly, grabbing your test and reading over the first incorrect problem, “S’not like I’m the one failing.” He finishes, his voice tight and determined, like he knew it was something he’d regret saying even as the words left his mouth. 
See? You think silently, pointed words aimed at that stupid voice in your head, Told you so.
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It’s barely an hour later and you already feel cross-eyed, groaning as Michael flips your test over to the next page and you see you’re only just now halfway done correcting the ones you’d gotten wrong. You hate to admit it to yourself, but his tutoring was helping — problems that you’d hardly been able to finish the first time seem far less daunting as he explains them to you. Even he seems less daunting as the hour goes on; shockingly, he doesn’t make anymore snide comments and you can tell that he genuinely enjoys talking about the subject, patiently helping you through each problem. 
“Can we take a break?” You grumble, laying your head down on top of your textbook. 
“What?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he checks his watch, “It’s hardly been an hour and you’re ready to give up?” 
“‘M not giving up,” you mumble, “I just think we could use a little break…” You say hopefully, looking at him with a small smile. When he doesn’t break, holding your gaze with a frown, you sigh, “Just, like, ten minutes, please?” 
You want to groan again when you see that formidable smirk make its home on his lips again, “Say please again.” He commands, his voice low. 
“Huh?” You balk, nearly dropping your phone as you retrieve it from your pocket. 
“Say please again,” he says slowly, his smirk only growing wider as he watches your cheeks redden, “Beg.” 
“W-why?” You question, face burning as you try your damndest to look unbothered by his request. 
He shrugs dismissively, “Makes you squirm,” he answers finally, leaning back in his chair, “I like that.”
“Why?” Your voice is so small you doubt he’d even know you spoke if his eyes weren’t fixed on you. 
He hums, a satisfied noise, like you’ve finally managed to meander into a trap he’d set ages ago, “S’fucking cute,” he huffs out a laugh when he sees your eyes widen, “Makes you blush and act all dumb.” 
You know you should be offended, but you can’t find it within yourself to care, “You think I’m cute?” 
He chuckles, sighing, “That’s what you choose to focus on?” 
“Do you?” 
“Fine, yes.” 
“Please, Michael,” you say suddenly, the words feeling practically punched from your throat, “Please, please can we have a break? Please, only ten minutes?” You beg, breathing hard as you quickly scan the room, shoulders relaxing when you don’t see anyone else sitting at the study tables. 
You see the way his eyes widen behind his glasses, like he can’t believe you actually did it, before they narrow once more, overtaken by a satisfied gleam, “Ten minutes.” He says simply, leaning back in his chair yet again, letting his head flop back, relaxed, and closes his eyes. 
You don’t move for a second, letting your eyes study the side of his face, looking over his sharp jawline and the curve of his nose. After a moment, you look away, deciding to pull out your phone. 
A few minutes go by as you answer a few texts from Louise, telling her that you miss her too and how you wish you were at the party — a lie, though you can’t find it within yourself to care. You busy yourself for a while longer, watching a few people's Instagram stories, the volume on your phone muted as you watch your friends dance under colorful strobe lights, blowing smoke at the camera and clinking drinks together. 
“I meant what I said.” You say finally, laying your phone on the table and picking at one of your cuticles. 
“Hm?” Michael questions, not bothering to open his eyes. 
“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you answer, fidgeting, “I never have. I think you’re…intriguing.”
“Intriguing?” He asks, finally sitting up and looking at you with a questioning stare, “How so?” 
You swallow, tucking your hair behind your ear with a shrug, “You’re smart…you know you’re smart,” you start, voice small and shaky, “I like that.”
“You like that or you like me?” He’s looking at you like a cat playing with a helpless mouse, looking at you like he knows he’s already won a game you don’t even know the two of you are playing. 
“You.” It comes out as a breath. 
He doesn’t answer and eventually you look away from him, choosing to stare out the window at the streetlights outside, the sky dark. 
Finally, the silence becomes overbearing and you break first again, “Thank you,” you smile at him, keeping your voice low even though you know the rest of the floor is vacant, even though the noise of the floors below has drastically faded over the last hour, “For helping me, I mean. You probably have a dozen things you’d rather do on a Saturday.” 
He stays quiet for a few seconds, “I didn’t really have anything better to do,” he smirks, “No parties.” 
“None?” 
“Never,” he shakes his head, shrugging, “Don’t get invited.” 
“Oh,” you answer simply, “Well, still, either way, thank you.” You smile again, but it falters when he leans forward suddenly, crowding into your space with a sly grin, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck. 
“I know a way you could repay me, love,” he whispers lowly into your ear, your hair standing on end, “Only if you want to, of course.” He adds, his long fingers toying with a strand of your hair. 
Your eyes grow comically wide as you process what he just said, “H-how do you want me to repay you?” You whisper, your eyes finally meeting his. 
He laughs softly, letting go of the strand of your hair to rest his hand lightly against the side of your face, his thumb skimming over your cheek as he watches a rosy hue settle across it, “I can think,” he starts, thumb moving lower to skate across your bottom lip, slightly tugging the skin with it, “Of one very fucking good way to put this mouth to use, love.” 
You part your lips slightly, letting the tip of his thumb into your mouth, just barely holding it between your teeth as you lightly run your tongue over it, heart skipping a beat at the way his lips just barely part in shock as you do. The voice in your head purrs again, roaring back to life, and you nod, smiling around his finger. 
“Yeah?” He questions, smirking as he watches your lips twitch around his thumb, “”Y’wanna?”
“Yes.” You reply around his thumb, your hands coming up to hold onto his forearm, the fabric of his rust colored sweater soft under your hands. 
“Beg.” He commands again, eyes twinkling. 
You take in a breath, eyes slipping shut as your thighs clench around nothing – missing the way Michael glances down at the movement, a knowing grin forming on his face, “Please, Michael.” You practically whine. 
“Ooh,” he coos, finally moving his thumb from your mouth, only to trail his hand down your neck, lightly resting it against your throat, “I think you can do better than that, pretty. Open your eyes and damn beg.” 
You follow his orders, a small whimper skirting past your lips at the new pet name as you open your eyes, “Please, Michael, please let me repay you, let me thank you, please.” The words tumble out, your eyes wide and pleading. 
“How’re you planning on doing that, empty headed little thing?” He taunts, the hand around your throat just barely tightening but it’s enough to make you let out a small, desperate whine. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, moving close enough to you that the front of his chest is plastered to your side, his heart beating against your shoulder, “Ask for what you want, beg properly.” His breath fans across the side of your face again, the feeling of his lips brushing over the side of your jaw making you jump. 
“Please, God, Michael,” you whine, squeezing your legs together so hard you’re surprised they haven’t fused together, “P-please let me suck your cock — to thank you, thank you for helping me.” You add quickly, breath shaky as you turn your head to look at him imploringly. 
He chuckles, but he looks pleased as he leans back momentarily, craning his neck to make sure there isn’t anyone around, “Alright, alright, love,” he soothes, coming back to face you, nodding his head to the empty space in front of his hair, below the table, “Not God, but I’ll give you what you want.” He teases.
Your breath catches in your throat as you look down at the floor beneath the desk, then back up at him before nodding, “Yes, sir.” You push yourself off your chair, sliding down beneath the desk. 
“Goddammit,” you hear him groan above you, running his palms over his thighs as he parts them, making room for you, “Keep that up, love, might even give you extra credit.” 
You rest your palms against the tops of his thighs as you move between his legs, getting comfortable on your knees, the old wooden floor cool against your skin, even through your black leggings. Finally, your eyes settle on the sizable bulge, covered by his dark jeans, and you can’t help the small whine that leaves your lips. Slowly, you move your hands up to the button of his pants, quickly popping it open and dragging the zipper down, smiling when Michael sighs above you as he pulls his sweater up out of the way, exposing the pale skin of his stomach. You let your eyes roam over him, warmth settling between your legs as you spot the dusting of light hair that starts beneath his belly button and leads downwards, disappearing under his plaid boxers.
You move closer to him, crowding in between his long legs, as you hook your fingers over the tops of his boxers, before finally looking up at him, “Can I…?” You ask, nodding to where his cock is straining against the fabric. 
“Don’t be shy now, princess,” he groans, running a hand through your hair as he stares down at you, “Get on with it.”
You keep your eyes on his as you pull his boxers down, just enough to free his cock, watching the way his chest heaves as he lets out another relieved sigh. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his as you look at his cock, gasping in a breath as you do. As far as dicks go, Michaels is impressive, beautiful even – long and thick with veins running up the underside, leading up to a flushed, leaking tip. 
You take him in your hand tentatively, squeezing him lightly around the base, your confidence growing when he grunts, breathing heavier. Finally, you lightly lick the tip, eyes sliding closed at the pleasant, salty taste of his pre-cum. You take the tip of him in your mouth, humming around him when his fingers tighten in your hair, lightly pushing on the back of your head, silently urging you to take more of him. 
“Fuck, that’s it,” he roughly groans, managing to keep his voice low, “Knew that pretty fucking mouth was good for something.” He moves his hips, impatiently thrusting his cock an inch deeper into your mouth, breathily cursing under his breath. 
You start bobbing your head up and down over his length, taking more and more of him into your mouth, more of his pre-cum leaking onto your tongue as you feel his dick throb and twitch in your hand. After a moment, you take a deep breath through your nose and remove your hand, resting it on his thigh, as you take him all the way to the base, your nose nestled in the short patch of hair there as you breathe in his heady scent, your eyes glazing over as you savor the feeling of him at the back of your throat. 
“Jesus!” He grunts, louder than he meant to, keeping your head in place as he thrusts his hips up again, keeping you in place at the base of his cock, “Fuck, that’s it,” he praised lowly, your center throbbing, no doubt leaking onto the fabric of your leggings, “Look at me, wanna see your eyes while I fuck your throat.”
You whine, desperately blinking back tears as you look up at him, trying to keep your breathing even. You hold his gaze as you stick your tongue out, licking lower, down toward his balls, relishing the way his eyes roll back as you do, stomach muscles twitching as he continues thrusting his hips up into your mouth, soaking his boxers and jeans with your spit. 
“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” he groans, looking down at you, his eyelids heavy, “God, yeah, cry on my cock love. Fuck, you look so pretty crying on my cock.” He mumbles, talking to himself more so than you. 
His words send a shiver down your spine, adding to the heat in your center, and you whimper when he finally moves his hand from the back of your head, allowing you to come up for air. You do, with a gasp, thin strings of spit connecting your reddened lips with the flushed head of his cock. You keep your eyes on his as you wrap your lips around him once more, running your tongue along the thick vein on the underside before sucking at the swollen tip, relishing the way it makes him clench his jaw and gasp through his teeth as you stroke the rest of him with your hand. 
Above you, he smirks again, gently running his hand through your hair but making no move to press your head down again. He cocks his head to the side, studying you, grinning at the far-off, foggy look in your eyes, “Not a thought in that pretty head, is there?” He asks, bringing his hand down and gently patting your cheek; the ghost of a slap making your thighs clench, making your head dizzy with need. 
You nod around him, moving your head up and down along his length. You feel yourself throbbing with need, pulsing with heat; almost automatically, your hand starts to wander, a small sigh escaping you as your hand presses against your center through your leggings. You feel a warmth settle across your cheeks again as you feel your own wetness, leaking through the fabric just as you’d suspected. You whimper as you press down again, your eyes falling shut as you let your hips grind against your fingers, the wet fabric creating a delicious friction against your clit. 
Which you get to feel for all of five seconds before Michael is suddenly yanking your head from his length, causing you to yelp as he tugs your hair. “Did I say you could touch your cunt?” 
“N-no,” you whine pathetically, eyes watering from the harsh hold he has on your hair, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t think—“ You try to explain, only for him to cut you off with another harsh tug, making you mewl. 
“That’s a pattern with you, isn’t it?” He asks, looking at you with a condescending smirk, studying you again, “You were being such a good girl earlier, what happened? Hm?” He questions, pushing his chair back enough to pull you out from under the table. 
You get to your feet, suddenly feeling shy in front of him once again despite having his cock in your mouth mere moments ago. “I…got distracted.” You answer finally. 
“I got distracted….who?” He asks, looking up at you expectantly over the rims of his glasses. 
“I got distracted, sir,” you quickly correct yourself, eyes frantically scanning the still vacant floor of the library, “I’m sorry.”
“That’s much better, love,” he drawls, placing his hands on your hips, “Now, what could’ve been so fucking distracting, huh?” He starts moving his hands, slowly, toward your center, still looking up at you, his eyes questioning. You nod your head, just barely but enough for him to understand, and any hesitancy from him quickly disappeared. “Could it be this, I wonder?” He questions sardonically, suddenly cupping your heat in his large hand, the warmth of it nearly making your knees buckle, even through the thin fabric of your leggings. He hums, the sound low in his chest, when he feels how much you’ve soaked the fabric, 
“Oh,” you whimper, grabbing at his shoulders to keep yourself balanced as his fingers continue to tease you, rubbing circles into your clit, “Oh my God, fuck.”
“Christ,” he breathes, staring up at you with dark eyes, “So fucking wet, love, holy hell. Did you get this way just from sucking my cock?”
“Yeah,” you whine, nodding your head desperately as you try to swallow all the small noises you want to make in your throat, your hips rutting against his hand, “Please, sir!”
“Oh, so now that dumb brain has no trouble remembering damn instructions, huh?” He taunts, a wicked grin on his face as his fingers rub your clit in smaller, harsher circles, making you see stars, “Need your wet little cunt played with to be able to do as you're told?”
You nod your head frantically, tears nearly spilling from your eyes at the zaps of pleasure radiating from you, your walls clenching around nothing. Just as you feel yourself about to tip over the edge, he stops, jerking his hand away from you with a knowing chuckle, “W-what?” You question, eyes blinking open, “I was so close!” You whine, nearly stamping your foot on the floor like a petulant child. 
“Told you,” Michael shrugs, pulling you to sit in his lap, your back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you. His breath tickles the side of your neck and face when he speaks again, “You’re so fun to tease, love, can’t help myself.”
You wiggle in his grasp, making him groan as your ass grinds against his hard length, desperately trying to get your hands free to touch your pussy again, nearly out of your mind with need. “P-please, sir, please touch me!” You finally gasp out, knowing he won’t give in until you do.
“Now there’s a good girl,” he says, voice pleased and cocky as he plants kisses along the side of your neck, “Since you asked so nicely…” He says, letting go of one of your arms, letting you grasp the arm still wrapped around you with your hands, as his free hand skirts down your stomach to the top of your leggings, pausing long enough for you to nod again, before he finally touches you. 
You whimper, jerking in his lap at the feel of his warm fingers directly on your heat for the first time, spreading your wet folds with a satisfied hum. His long fingers move down to your entrance, gathering some of the wetness there, “You’re so fucking wet,” he marvels, dragging his fingers up to your aching clit, “Fucking dripping on my fingers.” He murmurs in your ear, nipping at the side of your neck and sending tingles down your spine as he starts rubbing tight, wet circles against your bud. 
You tilt your head back, resting it against his shoulder as your chest heaves. A moan leaves your mouth, louder than it should be, and Michaels free hand shoots up, wrapping around your mouth. “Gotta be quiet, love,” he whispers, not slowing down the movement of his fingers in the slightest, “Wouldn’t want someone to interrupt, hm? Make me stop again?” 
You squeeze your eyes shut, whining desperately against his hand as he moves his fingers against you, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter. Your whole body lurches atop his, making him suck a breath in through his teeth as you move against his cock, still hard and hot as it presses against your lower back, when he moves his hand lower, plunging two fingers into your tight heat with no warning. “Fuck!” You yelp, muffled against his hand; tears leak from the corners of your eyes as he moves his fingers, scissoring them into you relentlessly as his thumb circles your clit. 
“S’fucking tight,” he mumbles lowly, voice vibrating his chest against your back, “God, you’re tight.” He grunts between clenched teeth, repeatedly crooking his fingers inside you as he fucks his fingers in and out of your heat, letting out small, barely there groans every time your pussy squelches around his fingers as he punches muffled whines and whimpers from you. He crooks his fingers up suddenly in a way that makes you see stars as you writhe on his lap, your knees shooting up off the floor as you attempt to curl up on yourself, “That the spot?” He teases, relentlessly rubbing his fingers against it as his thumb quickens against your clit. He adds a third finger without warning, curling them up against that rough patch inside you as he bites down on your shoulder, muffling his own groan as he feels you clench down on his fingers. 
“You gonna come?” He mumbles, grinning like a cheshire cat when you frantically nod your head, tears leaking onto the hand still wrapped tightly around your mouth. “Open your eyes,” he commands, not stopping his movements, “Want you to watch what I’m doing to you when you fucking cum.”
At the promise of finally getting to come, your eyes shoot open as you pick your head up off his shoulder, looking down the length of your body to where his hand disappears under your leggings. You practically come undone at the sight, watching as his hand moves against you through the dark fabric, maintaining a careful rhythm. “Michael, please!” You whine against his hand, desperately trying to keep your eyes open. 
He chuckles lowly, clearly proud of how quickly he’s been able to reduce you into a begging mess, the sound reverberating off your back. “Fucking come,” he commands, doubling his efforts, “Soak my fucking hand, love.”
The coil in your stomach finally snaps and you sob, eyes snapping shut as your whole body clenches, shaking in his lap, as fireworks burst behind your eyelids. Your entire core clamps down so tight he has to fight to keep his fingers within you, muting the sounds of his groans against your neck and shoulder as he feels your cunt pulse against his fingers. He doesn’t let up, pressing incessantly against that spot within you as you come, until he finally gets what he wants – both of you groaning together, noises muffled, as a stream of fluid seems to erupt from your center, soaking his hand and the inside of your leggings, though you can’t think enough to care at the moment. 
“Goddammit,” he grunts, finally removing his hand from your leggings, running his fingers through your folds one last time just to make you squirm. Suddenly, he’s lifting you off his lap enough to turn you around, maneuvering you to face him. You’re practically boneless in his lap as he lifts you just enough to pull your leggings down over your ass, pressing his bare cock against your still throbbing center when he sets you back down, “Gonna let me fuck you, love? Hm? Want me to make you go dumb around my cock?” 
You nod your head weakly, not bothering to lift it from his shoulder as you straddle his lap. He doesn’t make you beg this time, too desperate to feel your wet heat around him, as he swiftly lifts you up again, just enough to align his length with your entrance. 
Both of you moan as he lets you sit back down, his hard length disappearing into your warmth. He holds the back of your head, pressing your mouth against his neck to muffle your cries; you can feel his jaw clench with the effort of keeping his own muted. He fills you deliciously, thick cock pressed against every part of you, as your clit presses against the small thatch of hair above his length. 
“Fuck,” he huffs, the word hissed between his teeth as he squeezes his eyes shut, savoring the way your pussy pulses around his length, the way you desperately mouth and lick at his neck, “God, knew you’d feel good.” 
Somehow, that remark works it’s way through the fog in your brain, “Hm?” you hum against his neck, your hands coming up to tangle in his golden hair, “You thought about me?” You whimper, words whiny and breathy as he rocks you against him, spearing you on his length again and again, head kissing your cervix just enough to knock the air from your lungs every time he lowers you back down. 
He sighs, as if just now realizing what he’d said, and nods, swallowing down a moan before he speaks, “‘Course I did,” he admits, grinding you down against him, his hips pressed against yours. “Looked so damn pretty in class,” he continues, “So cute all, fuck, all flushed and embarrassed every time you got asked a question.” 
His admission makes you clench around him, heat flooding through your system as you process what he’d said. Your clit grinds against his body again, just as the head of his cock brushes against that spot in your center, and it’s like your brain has been whited out, all you can do is mewl against his neck as he rocks you up and down along his cock. 
“Fuck, I feel this sweet cunt getting tight, love,” he says, breathing heavily as he gets closer to his own release, “Y’gonna come?” 
“Yes!” You whimper, voice high-pitched and broken as you nod frantically against the skin of his neck, now wet with your spit and tears as you rock yourself against him, moving your clit against the hair at the base of his cock. 
“Hold it,” he commands softly, more breathing than speaking. He chuckles when he hears you whine, loving the way you mewl for him like a soft little kitten, and the hand still holding your head against him strokes your hair, soothing you. “Want us to come together,” he huffs, cursing under his breath as he feels you grow somehow tighter around him, “Fuck, I’m close just hold on.” The hand on your hip tightens, grinding you tightly against him, groaning as he feels your center milking his cock, your walls clenching around him desperately. 
“F-fuck, Michael,” you whine, breath hot against the column of his throat as you feel yourself tipping over, “Please! Please I can’t hold it, please!” You beg beautifully, weeping against his skin, trying so hard to keep it down to a whisper so you don’t draw attention, not this close to your release. 
“Where, fuck,” he curses, pulling your head up to look in your eyes, the blue in his nearly swallowed by blackness, “Tell me where.” He pants, his voice urgent.
“Inside me!” You breathe, cunt clenching around him as you feel him twitch inside you.
He groans, forehead resting against your shoulder for a second as he tries to maintain control, both of his hands gripping your ass hard enough to leave bruises, “Are you s–”
“Yes!” You nod, resting your forehead against his when he picks his head back up, “‘M on the pill.” You reassure him as you keep nodding. The two of you move together for a few more seconds, wildly grinding together, before the coil in your stomach is finally wound too tight, “Michael, oh, fuck!”
“Fuck,” he gasps, seeming to get somehow thicker inside you, “Come for daddy, fuck, be good and come.” He commands, his own voice low and frenzied.
Hearing him call himself that does you in, and you shatter around him, walls gripping him tightly. You open your mouth, unable to control a loud moan, which he quickly hushes by pressing his lips against yours, licking into your mouth as he thrusts up into your center harshly a few times, each rise of his hips accompanied by a grunt into your waiting mouth as you mewl at the heat of his cum filling you up, extending your own release. 
The two of you stay quiet for a moment, breathing heavily as you sweetly kiss, tiredly pressing your lips together. Finally, you pull away from him giggling shyly when you meet his eyes, blushing as you feel his length slowly softening inside you. “Getting shy on me now?” He teases, smiling at you as he gently plays with your hair. 
You smile back at him for a second before suddenly coming to your senses and remembering where you are, “Shit,” you whisper, hopping up off his lap, “I cannot believe we just did that!” You quickly scan the floor with wide eyes, shoulders visibly relaxing when you still don’t see anyone.
“Wasn’t in my plan,” Michael starts, tucking his member back into his boxers and zipping up his jeans, “But I’m certainly not complaining.” He finishes, smirking at you before standing. He leans down, helping you pull up your leggings. He doesn’t miss the way you grimace when the damp, now unpleasantly cool, fabric presses against you. “Sorry,” he apologizes, gesturing to them, “I should’ve…controlled myself better with that one.” He finishes, awkwardly scratching at his chin. 
You laugh quietly, trying to play it off although you’re dreading the half hour train ride back to your flat. That feeling doubles when you look down, eyes widening as you see the dark patch around your crotch, hardly visible on the dark fabric but enough that it makes you nervous, “Getting home is gonna be fun.” You joke, turning to begin gathering your things. 
You’ve gotten your textbook put back into your backpack when you feel a tap on your shoulder; turning your head, you look wide-eyed when you see him sheepishly smiling at you, holding his red sweater out as he stands in a band t-shirt, “Here,” he says softly, waving the sweater at you, “You need it more than I do and it’s my fucking fault anyway.”
You blush, taking the sweater from him with a small thank you, tying it around your waist as he busies himself with picking up his things, before putting the rest of yours into your backpack as well, “Oh, you didn’t have to do that!” You tell him as you finish situating his sweater around you, satisfied that the stain is covered.
He huffs out a laugh, “You sucked my cock on the floor of a library,” he jokes, eyes sparkling with mischief yet again, “S’the least I could do.” 
You laugh, playfully shoving at his shoulder as you put your backpack on. The floor is truly, blessedly, empty as the two of you leave and walk downstairs, not seeing anyone on the second floor either and only a few stragglers on the main floor at this hour on a Saturday evening. He pushes open one of the heavy wooden doors at the entrance, holding it open for you as you duck under his arm. The door thuds closed behind you as you both stand outside the library, the air cold now that the sun’s gone down. 
“I really like them, that band,” you say, nodding to his shirt, “Their last album’s really good.”
“Oh!” He says, eyebrows raising in surprise, “You know them?” He asks, smiling when you nod again, “Their new album is probably my favorite too, actually.” The two of you stand in a comfortable silence for a second later before he notices you shiver as a breeze blows through the stoney courtyard. “D’you live close to campus?”
“Half hour on the train,” you shrug, pulling your phone out to check the time, “I should probably go soon if I’m gonna catch the next one…”
“You could come to mine?” He asks, his voice hopeful, “It’s only a walk from here, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes?”
Your eyes widen, having not expected his invitation, but you nod nonetheless, “If you’re sure,” he nods, “Then, yeah! That would be great.” You smile, walking beside him as you start heading in the direction of his flat. 
“Would you maybe want to get lunch sometime?” He asks, glancing down at you.
“I would love that,” you smile, your hand brushing against his as you continue down the sidewalk, “I think I might need more tutoring, too…”
His hand catches yours, your fingers intertwining as he smirks, “Will you suck my cock every time?” He teases, grinning as you laugh, the sound echoing off the buildings and filtering into the night air. 
Told you so. The voice in the back of your mind echos as you lean your head on Michael’s shoulder.
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haknom · 2 months
Text
THIS MUST BE MY DREAM — YANG JUNGWON
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∿ 📋 SCORE SHEETS ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Jungwon was living his best life at Earl View Academy. He was scoring the highest marks, dominating every exam, and ranking the top one out of every student. See, he was living his best life at Earl View Academy before you came along, destroying his reputation because of your similar level in academics. It had to be a dream, there was no way someone could compete with him. With that said, he immediately renamed you as the new student to his one and only arch nemesis.
∿ TOP RANKS ✂️ academic-rival!jungwon x fem!reader (ft. jungwon from enhypen, baekseung from epex, and minji from newjeans)
∿ EXAM REVIEW ⟡ insp by doctor slump, long fic, academic rivals to lovers, rivals to lovers, highschool au, nerds to lovers, fluff, crack, and angst.
∿ 📔 STUDY NOTES ୨ৎ swearing, bickering, mentions of pills (painkillers), skipping meals, fainting, crying, being sick, and mental health issues, lmk if i missed anything.
∿ NUMBER OF EXAM QUESTIONS 🎓 14980 words
∿ FEEDBACK . . . and with that said it’s finally done!!!!! took me two months cs i took so many breaks …. happy belated jungwon day? LMFAO… and tysm to @soov for proofreading all the way !!! love u rei <33
∿ STUDY PLAYLIST 🎶 click here!
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RANK ONE.
In Earl View Academy, everyone wanted to live Jungwon’s life. He was a son everyone wanted—not his words—and that made him feel good about himself. Even if he was quite the goofball, he still aced all his assignments while having fun.
His life was perfect. 
“Jungwon!” His friend, Baekseung called, gaining his attention almost immediately. The boy looked over at his brown-haired friend with a smile, pausing the movements of his pencil gliding against his notebook. 
“Hm?” He hummed, waiting for his friend to continue talking. Baekseung took a seat on the window sill beside Jungwon as Minji walked into the classroom. 
“Did you see the banner they hung up? It has something to do with University, I believe.” He said as Minji walked towards them.
“Here.” She held out her phone, showing the boys a picture of the banner. It showcased a brief description of what to expect when applying to the University of Seoul and the date of submission—February 9th of 2024.
Jungwon’s birthday.
It was perfect timing, almost as if it was destined to be. His reputation at school and his relationship with his teachers would easily help him get accepted, right? 
“The acceptance rate is 40%, which isn’t all bad, but many people apply, so…” Minji explained, turning off her phone, and shoving it into her back pocket. Jungwon tapped his pencil against his chin to a random, yet consistent rhythm in his head.
Jungwon’s friends always enabled his confidence. He was aware of his smartness, but they made it seem bigger than it really was. 
“Although a lot of people apply, I’m sure you’ll get accepted. Your application will catch their eyes immediately, trust me.” 
Jungwon bit back a smile at Baekseung’s words, sending him an amused nod instead. 
“I’m sure it will.” He replied, returning his focus to his notes. Before his friends appeared, he was working on a few equations, to make sure they stuck with him for their test.
It was his way of studying; learn the materials in class and study them like his life depended upon it. 
It worked like a charm every time.
“I don’t get how you understand these things.” Baekseung said while peeking over at his work. Jungwon smiled, letting out a chuckle. 
He never did, it wasn’t anything new. 
“See, you start with your values, then you write out your formula and substitute your variables for your numbers—”
“Enough! You lost me at the word ‘values.’” He exclaimed, causing both Jungwon and Minji to laugh. 
“Hey, when you get accepted into the University of Seoul, don’t forget me.” Baekseung pleaded and leaned in with his hands desperately clasped together. 
“I won’t, I won’t.” 
Jungwon dropped his pencil, letting it lay flat on his notebook, and placed his hands on top of Baekseung’s.
“You have nothing to worry about.” He said, playing along with Baekseung’s act. 
“I don’t get how I was pulled into this trio,” Minji said, cringing at the sight before her.
“Yeah, me neither.” Baekseung smiled at Jungwon, then, removed his hands from underneath his, and returned to his spot on the window sill.
“Oh well, here we are now. You love us, right?” Jungwon teased, the cringing expression never leaving Minji’s face.
The two boys stared at her in silence, waiting for her response. They wouldn’t let her off the hook if she didn’t open her mouth to say anything.
“Fine. I do.” She replied, earning bright smiles from her friends in return. She shook her head, a small smile making its way to her face. 
It was impossible to avoid their faces. Even if they weren’t trying, they still managed to swoon her over with one look. They were unstoppable together.
Jungwon went back to studying as Minji and Baekseung playfully bickered over a past memory. It was a common occurrence, nothing new.
“I heard they’re selling Yakult in the cafeteria today!” A classmate said to their friend, gaining the three’s attention immediately.
They stopped what they were doing and looked at each other. They gave each other a look that only they could understand. There were no words shared, only their eyes held their words.
Soon after, Baekseung and Jungwon got up from their spots, following behind Minji who led them out of the classroom.
Yakult was their favourite thing ever. It was something all three of them could agree on—that they tasted delightful. Other than that, they all had different tastes in a way.
“Finally, they’re bringing it back!” Minji cheered, happier than ever. Baekseung, who stood in the middle, wrapped his arms around the two to pull them in closer.
“Do we have a plan?” He asked as Minji scoffed.
“Do we even need one? Just do whatever your mind tells you to.” She said and he nodded. 
“Smart choice.” 
The two conversed alone just as they did back in the classroom, except Jungwon wasn’t studying. He could’ve been included in their conversation right now, they weren’t excluding him at all.
He just didn’t pay attention. He didn’t even take note that they were talking because it all sounded muffled to him. 
All he paid attention to was his homeroom teacher who walked down the hallways, lips moving as if he was talking to someone, but Jungwon didn’t know who.
Once he walked past, it was then revealed. A girl stood fairly behind his homeroom teacher, catching Jungwon’s attention. 
He had no clue who she was, nor had he ever seen her face before, he ‘didn’t’ even care about what her name was, what time she arrived, what foods she liked, why she was wearing their school’s uniform, or what she had for breakfast.
All he cared about was how pretty she was, and fine, maybe what her name was too. Previously, if someone were to tell him about another being heaven-sent he wouldn’t understand them. 
Now, he really does because she, she was heaven-sent to him at least.
“You okay?” Baekseung asked, looking over at Jungwon’s dazed figure. He shook Jungwon with the arm that rested over his shoulder, startling the poor boy.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m okay.” 
Well, he hoped he was.
“Sweet, if I’m not wrong, lunch starts in about 3 minutes. Therefore, I believe we’ll be first…” Baekseung paused, his voice growing quieter at the sight before them.
“… In line.” His words were almost like a whisper. He was practically speechless at the line. At least 20 students were already waiting for their Yakult’s. 
“Yeah, um, maybe we do need a plan,” Minji said, regretting her previous words. There was no way they’d get through a line like this one. 
“Maybe? We 100% need a plan.” Baekseung said, his arms slipping off their shoulders. 
“I’m sure we’ll be fine if we just wait. It can’t be that bad—Woah! Okay. Maybe it is bad.” Jungwon’s reassuring words were cut off by his shocked ones. 
The line extended even further. How was that even possible?
“Hey, Min, what time is it?” Jungwon asked Minji as she checked her phone that previously sat in her back pocket. 
“11:37 AM.” She replied, still flabbergasted at the number of students waiting for their Yakult’s. 
“Do you think that will be enough time to visit the nearest convenience store and then come back?” Jungwon asked, desperate for an escape. He was still craving a Yakult, but they wouldn’t get one at this rate.
“It’s 27 (81 Fahrenheit) degrees Celsius outside…”  Baekseung muttered, mentally sweating at the thought. 
“We can get ice cream as well…” Jungwon whispered, scared that the line of students would overhear his words and run after them. 
What if they were craving ice cream too? It wasn’t just the three of them who were feeling hot.
“Smart choice. Yeah, let’s do that instead.” Minji cautiously walked away from the entrance of the cafeteria, careful not to make a sound as the two boys did the same.
Yes, they were being very dramatic right now, but that line of students was very intimidating.
The three returned to class with leftovers of their ice creams, hoping nobody would ask them for at least one lick—it was disgusting to know that they were serious.
“Oh, Jungwon,” Minji said, remembering something from earlier. Jungwon hummed in response, his mouth full of ice cream. 
“Did you even start your applications? Our midterms are soon, so I’m sure our guidance counsellors are going to approach you about it.” 
“Are you worried for me? Or do you want to use my application as a template for yours?” 
“I…” Minji stayed silent as Baekseung stifled a laugh. She sent him a glare, causing him to clear his throat. What was he laughing at? He was bound to do the same exact thing. 
“Fine, you caught me. But hey, I have no idea what I’m supposed to do!” She exclaimed as Jungwon chuckled, getting up from his seat to throw away his ice cream wrapper. 
“If you want, I can assist you—”
“Guys, guys!” A classmate shouted while running into the classroom shocked. Everyone’s heads turned to look at the said boy, more confused than ever. What lie was he about to spurt next?
“I just saw a pretty, pretty girl in the teacher’s office. I think she’s a new student.” He explained, however, nobody reacted.
“Are you lying to cover up the fact you were being scolded in the office?” Another classmate asked, causing laughs to erupt from other students in the room. Jungwon smiled to himself, that was a good one.
“I’m serious! I heard she might even be smarter than Jungwon!” The student exclaimed, causing Jungwon’s smile to falter and his pen to stop moving.
All eyes were focused on him as he slowly looked up at the shouting boy. 
“Eh, I’m sure there’s no one who can compare to his level!” Baekseung said, patting Jungwon on his shoulder and smiling. 
Jungwon was considered very smart for someone his age. It was a common compliment he received, but he didn’t hate it. It was quite ego-boosting.
“Everyone! Have a seat please.” Ms. Eun walked through the doors of their classroom, and another student walked in a few moments later. 
“Obviously, I’m sure you’re aware of the new student joining our class today! Please make (Name) (Last Name)  feel welcome in our classroom!” She explained as Jungwon’s eyes widened.
You were the same girl he saw in the hallways earlier. For some reason, his heart skipped a beat and his ears went numb at the sight of you.
“Oh, Jungwon. (Name) also got perfect on the entrance exam and was the top student at her old school. It must be great to meet someone at your level.” Ms. Eun smiled as all the emotions Jungwon had felt earlier plummeted.
So his classmate wasn’t lying. There was really someone who matched his skill of knowledge. 
You looked over at the boy Ms. Eun referred to, noticing the way his expressions switched. At first glance, he was calm, but his eyes said otherwise.
They held an emotion you’ve never seen in anyone else’s—a desire to win. And, of course, you wouldn’t let him achieve that goal of his.
If someone were to win and maintain that top student rank, it would be you and you only.
You two hadn’t even spoken to one another, but within those 2 minutes of staring into each other’s eyes, it was obvious you both saw each other as a threat.
No matter what, only one of you can have that title.
RANK TWO.
“Jungwon, you haven’t looked up from your notebook this whole class,” Minji said, turning around in her seat to face him.
“Literally! There’s not even a single test coming up. What is there to be reviewed at this point?” Baekseung chimed in with a frown.
Yet, Jungwon didn’t look up, easily proving their point. It had been a week since you first arrived at Earl View Academy. 
A week since Jungwon first felt threatened by your appearance. His life was perfect until you arrived.
His friends swore they hadn’t had one single hangout since then, but he said otherwise.
“You do know, you reviewing your notes while Minji and I converse without you, isn’t a hangout right?”
Jungwon’s pencil stopped moving for a brief moment, only to start up again at an even faster pace.
He couldn’t fall behind you. 
He glanced over at your focused state, glaring in the process. You seemed to be at ease and he wasn’t. 
That should’ve been him. 
What happened to the perfect life that everyone wanted to live? The one where he could be happy and carefree even while passing all his classes with 100s? 
“Don’t tell me you feel threatened—”
Jungwon’s pencil-led snapping silenced Baekseung’s voice almost immediately. He looked up at his friend, eyes darker than usual. There wasn’t his signature gleam that complimented his dimpled smile. He looked like he was ready to kill someone.
“Minji…” Baekseung called, signalling for her to take over the conversation. Sadly, that failed. She was just as scared as him.
“Hey, I could, uh… I could sharpen this for you!” She exclaimed, instead of continuing the same topic as before. 
She took the pencil out of his hold, but Jungwon silently searched his pencil case for another one.
He had no time to waste. He was almost done with his notes.
Minji took her seat again, placing the boy’s broken pencil beside his notebook with a soft, yet dragged-out ‘okay.’
There would’ve been no point in going anyway. 
“Dude, why don’t you let loose a bit?” A classmate said to their friend and began shaking their shoulders. 
“I can’t! You know how my mom is about my grades right now…” He mumbled, embarrassed. 
The boy from earlier grabbed his basketball that rolled under his desk and bounced it around him.
“I know you want to play basketball right now, but that’s okay. I’ll just play with Jungwon and his friends.” He informed his friend, turning to look at Jungwon who wasn’t paying attention.
“Yo, Jungwon! Catch this!” He shouted, alerting both of his friends, but him.
He passed the ball, expecting Jungwon—or even Baekseung—to catch the ball, however, there was nothing.
Instead, the loud thud of a ball hitting your head, echoed throughout the classroom. At least, that managed to catch Jungwon’s attention.
Your pen fell out of your hand, landing on the desk. Your ears began to ring as frustration—and a bit of lightheadedness—took over your system.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” The classmate said, making his way over to you with a worried look.
It was only your second day and you were making enemies.
Yet, you couldn’t bother to accept his apology. You looked at him with a facial expression that not even his mom had ever given him. He was terrified.
“Does this classroom look like a circus to you?” You asked as a throbbing pain slowly began to settle in your head. 
“Are you so unskilled that you can’t even hold a basketball properly? Actually, are you so childish to the point where you aren’t aware of classroom rules?” 
The atmosphere of the classroom vastly shifted. It was quite intense and unsettling. 
His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water stunned by your words. He was speechless, how could he respond to that?
“Please leave me alone, you’d only be a distraction to my studies.” With that said, you returned to your work, acting as if the boy in front of you didn’t exist.
Jungwon’s brows furrowed at the sight, you were being so mean and for what? 
The boy shamefully walked back to his seat as all his friends held in their laughs. He was already embarrassed enough, their laughs only adding to the fire.
Forget what Jungwon said about you being heaven-sent, the Devil must’ve sent you instead. He swore if he stared even longer, horns would grow on your head at any given moment.
So, he looked away and continued taking his notes. 
“She seems mean,” Baekseung whispered to the two around him. Minji nodded in agreement, mentioning how she got chills from how you stared at the boy. 
You proceeded to rub at your temples in an attempt to force away the throbbing migraine coming your way. You couldn’t take a break from studying.
You had to finish reviewing this material before anything at all—not even a meal break was allowed in your Book of Rules.
“What do you guys want to do for lunch?” Baekseung asked, gaining Jungwon and Minji’s attention again. 
“I heard they’re going to play Basketball in the gym. You two should play as well!” Minji exclaimed, which only resulted in Jungwon’s head perking up at the sport.
“I’m down,” Jungwon said almost immediately. Baekseung and Minho’s eyebrows rose at his quick decision. It was almost as if he wasn’t studying his butt off while ignoring his two chattery friends a moment ago.
“Are you sure? I thought you had to revise your notes.” Baekseung verbalised his confusion as Jungwon began packing up his belongings.
“I already understand everything. A + B = X times 6–”
“Okay! Okay. No more Math, please.” Baekseung was quick to halt Jungwon’s equation with his index finger. He slowed down his pace when zipping up his backpack, taking in the words Baekseung uttered before. 
A smile made its way to the boy’s face at the realisation of his friend's confusion. Baekseung definitely had no clue what they were learning in class.
“Hurry! I don’t want to be late for team decisions.” He exclaimed, hopping off of the desk he sat on.
Jungwon waved off his friend’s pestering and walked out of the classroom, the two trailing behind him. 
You, on the other hand, struggled to focus on your work. The whole classroom was quiet and you were the only one left. Everyone had left for lunch, but you. 
Yes, you loved quiet, however your migraine didn’t. The accompanied silence only made your migraine throb even more, a faint mic feedback noise to back it up.
Almost like you had a fever.
You placed your pencil down beside your notebook on your desk and stood up from your seat. 
A quick stop at the nurse's office wouldn’t hurt anyone, right? It would benefit your studying session and get rid of your pain quite easily.
That was the only exception to your Book of Rules when it came to studying. Nothing else.
Jungwon shot the ball into the hoop, his hair and necktie flowing with his every movement. His uniform sleeves were rolled up, cuffed around the skin above his forearm, helping his gameplay style quite well.
Baekseung smiled at his friend, high-fiving him in the process. 
“Nice one! They won’t beat us at this rate.” He said, looking at the scoreboard that read 17-9. Maybe he wasn't exaggerating it like every other time.
Jungwon grinned, his dimples showing faintly. It wasn’t an all-tooth grin, more toothless. His lips were pursed into a thin line and his cheekbones were nearing his under eyes. It was enough to show his appreciation for his friend’s compliment.
His forehead was becoming a slightly sweaty state, causing his previously parted bangs to clump together and loosely stick to the damped skin.
There were 8 more points until the match was done. They didn’t have much time to play 4 full quarters, so they made a bet; first to 25 wins. 
Sadly, no rewards could have been won by the players, making this Basketball game more enjoyable than competitive. 
Jungwon didn’t have enough time though, he would almost need to return to studying quite soon. Seriously, he couldn’t fall behind someone like you.
“Baek,” Jungwon whispered, hoping it was enough to gain his friend’s attention who stood across from him on the court, but it wasn’t enough at all. 
“Baekseung!” Jungwon called while raising his voice a bit over his usual tone. The said boy looked over with widened eyes in shock.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jungwon said, fighting back a snicker at his friend’s startled state.
“Well, I have to go now. Tell Min I said bye too.” He said and walked past Baekseung, patting his shoulder as a way of saying goodbye. 
As he walked out of the gymnasium doors, he shook his head, causing his hair strands to move around, some still sticking on his forehead.
He stretched his limbs and began revising the lesson from earlier. 
The hallways were empty, leaving him with more of a quiet atmosphere to focus on his thoughts. 
Jungwon’s lips moved, soft whispers of equations and problems leaving them. If there were other people here, they would give him the dirtiest looks right now. He most definitely looked psychotic. 
Luckily, there wasn’t anyone. Yet.
The sound of the door sliding shut caught his attention and he looked up to see where it came from. 
The nurse’s office was always a popular spot in their school, so it wasn't a shock that someone was leaving the room at this exact moment. 
Surprisingly, it was a shock to him. He never thought you were the type to leave your desk ever.
Your brows furrowed at the sight before you. 
A sight of disgust.
Yang Jungwon was the last person you wanted to see with your throbbing migraine. He was all sweaty, his hair glistened from the sweat droplets that stuck onto the strands, his necktie was loose, his uniform was dishevelled, and his face was a light shade of red due to the hotness of the gymnasium.
He looked disgusting.
Jungwon had no clue as to why you were glaring at him. He wasn’t the reason you ended up visiting the nurse’s office, so why were you giving him such a dirty look?
He should be the annoyed one at this exact moment. After all, you were the one who moved to Earl View Academy and ruined his ‘perfect’ life.
He looked back at you with a confused yet irritated expression on his features as the two of you stood in silence.
Jungwon’s eyes looked over your appearance, noticing how your hand was propped against your chest and holding an item he had seen before.
Your eyes followed his gaze and then widened at realisation. Out of reflex, you hid the painkillers behind your back, not wanting to come off as weak towards him.
You couldn’t let him see you as someone who wasn’t that much of a threat to his academic success. 
In silence, you turned around, moving the pill bottle to your chest again, and made your way back to the classroom. For some reason, your movements aggravated Jungwon’s previous calm state.
God, he hated you so much. He couldn’t believe he once thought you were pretty—it would be a lie if he said he still didn’t. That didn’t matter though, you could be pretty and still have a snotty attitude. 
That was a perfect description for you.
Although you thought you left Jungwon behind in front of the nurse’s office, to your dismay, you didn’t. 
There he was, standing at the doorway of your once previous quiet study room—or in other words, your homeform classroom.
You rolled your eyes after noticing him at the doorway and looked back at your notes. 
He ignored your response to his presence and took a seat at his desk near the window. Jungwon slipped his hand into his backpack, grabbing his pencil case and notebook in the process.
A tense silence followed the two of you as you flipped your pages in sync and continued writing down more things in sync.
You were pausing more than he was due to the pain in your head which only slowed down your movements even more. Yes, you planned on taking the painkillers, but not when he was around.
Still, you couldn’t hold back. You had to do it or else you wouldn’t be able to study one bit. 
Although the painkillers mentioned eating a meal before intaking the pills, you refused to follow the instructions. You had no time to take a break and find something to fill your stomach, especially when you were already falling behind Jungwon’s studying pace.
You reached for your bottle of water off your desk and popped a pill in your mouth, scarfing down water right after. 
Jungwon looked up at the sound of pills shaking in a bottle. It was obvious it came from you, you were the only other person in the classroom.
It seemed like the basketball to your head earlier really took a toll on you. He didn’t blame you though, it truly did sound like it hurt.
Except, that wasn’t the only thing he noticed. Even if he was in one place all lunch, it seemed like you didn’t leave your seat at all. It was kept the exact same like he last saw it before lunch time.
Luckily, the sound of your stomach growling was enough to answer his unsaid question as he watched your ears turn a shade of red.
As much as you tried to pretend that didn’t happen, you were tremendously embarrassed. Still, you couldn’t eat. 
Not yet at least.
“You didn’t hear that.” You mumbled, hoping it was loud enough for Jungwon to catch. He hummed in response while eyeing his work, not paying much attention to your silly incident. 
He knew how embarrassing it could have been, so it was best not to engage. 
Thankfully, God was on your side, ringing the bell a few seconds after Jungwon had hummed. 
Soon after, students began flooding into the classroom and heading to their seats in loud crowds. 
Therefore, your quiet time with the last person you wanted to spend it with, had ended. 
RANK THREE. 
“Jungwon and (Name), please come up and answer the questions on the board.” 
Great. 
It was only 10:30 AM on a Wednesday, and yet you were already going head-to-head with your rival.
Jungwon confidently made his way to the chalkboard and picked up a piece of chalk from the ledge. 
You, on the other hand, paused for a moment after getting up from your seat. You were suddenly feeling lightheaded, and that was never a good sign.
However, if you didn’t make it over fast enough, he would for sure beat you in a blink. And so, you did. You rushed over and picked up a chalk stick, then began writing.
It was a simple equation to you, but to everyone else who didn’t understand the lesson, it wasn’t. It was way more complex to them than how it really was.
Jungwon was already halfway through answering the question whilst you haven’t even started. You wrote the given values on the side to keep track of the numbers you would use. 
Easy, right?
Not quite. 
You couldn’t focus at all even if there were no distractions nor was it loud in your classroom. 
The only thing you could hear was the harsh sounds of Jungwon pressing his chalk against the board after he reached a new step. 
Your ears became sensitive to any sound, causing you to even take note of the rhythm his piece of chalk followed when gliding against the blackboard. It was irritating you and annoying.
As much as you wanted to stop him from writing, you couldn’t because it was impossible. Your hand wouldn’t move one bit. Your vision became blurry, eyes fluttering shut and opening in a pattern. 
“I think I’m going to faint.” You whispered, your words falling deaf on all ears, aside from Jungwon’s.
He didn’t pay much attention to your sentence, brushing it off as a dumb remark about his handwriting or something. 
Truthfully, his calligraphy wasn’t the best when it came to using chalk, so you wouldn’t be wrong if you were to say something mean about it. He would only end up agreeing in the end.
Everything stilled for a brief moment before you lost your feeling in your hands, dropping the piece of chalk you held, and falling against the hardwood floor right after.
Gasps were emitted from your classmates—ones you couldn’t even hear—as Jungwon stilled his movements at the loud thud which caused him to flinch slightly.
Jungwon looked down as he still pressed the chalk on the board, his eyes widening and blood draining from his face at the sight.
“(Name)?” Your teacher called, hurriedly making her way towards your unconscious figure. However, there was no response.
“Hey, Jungwon, you were on the track team last year, right?” Ms. Ling asked as he nodded, swallowing and hoping the nauseated feeling in his stomach would disappear.
Spoiler alert—it didn’t. 
“Could you run her to the nurse’s office, please?” She asked, leaving the boy with no other choice but to say yes. If he were to say no, he would seem like a villain, and he couldn’t let that happen.
“Okay.” He mumbled and placed the chalk on the ledge before crouching down, slipping an arm under your legs, and wrapping one around your back for extra support.
To his surprise, you were awfully light. A little too light for an average person. It was quite concerning.
Jungwon shook his head, making all his thoughts disappear in the process. He had no time to waste, he had to get you to the nurse’s office quickly—his teacher’s words, not his.
He slid open the door with his foot, shocked that he even managed to succeed himself, and placed you on an unoccupied bed.
Mrs. Oh, the nurse, emerged from her office with a concerned look after noticing the rush Jungwon was in. 
“What’s wrong?” She asked before seeing you who lied unconsciously on the bed. 
“She fainted a few moments ago in class.” He explained while running a hand through his hair, followed by a sigh.
“Fainted?” The nurse asked and made her way to your still figure, reaching out to touch your pulse points.
“I don’t think it’s a fatal issue. Just hang around for a bit, I’ll run some short tests then you can tell your teacher why she fainted.” Mrs. Oh said as Jungwon nodded. 
He could just ask for the notes from Minji after class. 
A few moments later, Mrs. Oh returned with a clipboard in her hand and a concerned look on her face.
“Is it bad?” Jungwon asked, slightly worried about her response.
“Oh, no.” Mrs. Oh said, reassuring the boy, then opened her mouth to say something else.
“Thing is, she hasn’t eaten for the last two days.” 
What?
RANK FOUR.
Jungwon walked down the hallways of the school, heading to the vending machine nearby. Mrs. Oh’s words replayed in his head many times. It had been a day since your visit to the nurse’s office, but he was still hooked on Mrs. Oh’s discovery.
He didn’t know why he cared that you hadn’t eaten for two days. That was your problem not his.
Yet, he couldn’t help but feel quite worried about your health. How the hell were you still at his level of academic achievements even if you weren’t eating to fuel your brain?
It was crazy. Not even he could survive an hour without a small snack to keep him going. So, how did you even manage to survive?
More of Mrs. Oh’s words flooded through Jungwon’s head, mainly focusing on the fact she put him in charge of making sure you were eating.
Was it not obvious you two hated each other? Well, maybe not since you were fast asleep, but to him it was.
What the hell was he supposed to do to monitor your food intake? Buy you snacks and drinks from the vending machines at their school? 
Actually… that wasn’t such a bad idea. It could work for him, but would it work for you? Would you even accept his offers?
You were hard to work with in the first place. There was no way he would follow upon Mrs. Oh’s request. That was your problem and only yours. Not his.
Nevertheless, that didn’t explain the fact he was currently punching in the number two into the vending machine, expecting two granola bars to follow through the hole.
Of course, it wouldn’t be enough to fill him up this lunch, but he had no other choice. He was already exhausted enough from playing football outdoors, leaving him with no more energy to wait in line for food in the cafeteria.
He grabbed the granola bars and made his way to room 116—his home room. 
He was excited for the peace and quiet he was about to experience. Nobody ever came to school this early. It was 7:30 AM after all.
School started at 8:20 AM. 
If you were to show up at the bell, he could save the granola bar until lunch and give it to you when the room was empty.
Nobody could know that he was interacting with you, especially not after you two made it clear you wanted nothing to do with each other.
“Oh, hey, Jungwon! It’s been quite a bit since I saw you first thing in the morning.” A faculty member said, greeting the boy. He smiled at the teacher and nodded.
It wasn’t a lie. Jungwon always came early, yes, but he never went straight to class. He was either shooting hoops in the gym or doing his morning jog around the track in the field.
The September breeze blew the trees outside as Jungwon watched the leaves sway while walking to class. The windows in the hallways were wide, emitting a bright light into Earl View Academy.
It really suited the vibe he was going for.
But you didn’t.
Jungwon noticed your focused figure, his mood dropping immediately. He was glad you were okay, but not glad that you were in class.
He wanted alone time today, nothing else.
Jungwon put on a straight face, avoiding eye contact with you while walking to his seat. He swiftly placed the granola bar on your desk and moved away as if he didn’t.
You looked down at the granola bar, then to the boy who walked away in silence.
Before you could say anything, he was quick to silence your ‘irritating’ voice.
“Just eat it. Mrs. Oh is making me monitor your meals even if I don’t want to.” 
He said without any other explanation. You looked back at the granola bar, hearing Jungwon sit down and begin opening his snack due to the loud rustling of the wrapper.
Instead of doing the same, you pushed the granola bar to the side and returned back to your studies. Once again, your ‘Book of Rules’ said no meals until you were done reviewing.
Jungwon opened his notebook, flipping through the filled pages to find an empty one and begin his studying. He was holding the granola bar in one hand and eating at the same time.
It wasn’t hard at all, which only confused him since you weren’t doing the same.
“Aren’t you going to eat it?” He asked, but you ignored him, staring into your notebook in silence. 
The boy scoffed, looking out the window in disbelief. He doesn’t even know why Mrs. Oh trusted him with this ‘task’. He couldn’t say no though, he would have felt guilty to face her again.
Honestly, he was still shocked at the news from yesterday. What did she mean you didn’t eat for 2 days? 
Was this an often routine of yours? Was that why you were so concerningly light when he carried you? You were always studying and never seemed like you took any breaks, which only left him wondering.
Seriously, did you ever eat?
“What?” You asked, stiffening and turning around to look at the bow. There was a look of annoyance present on your face, only causing Jungwon to stare back in confusion.
“What?” He questioned back. Why were you looking at him like that even after you blatantly ignored him a moment ago?
“Why is it your business if I ever eat or not?” 
Hold on. Did Jungwon think aloud earlier? Was that why you were acting this way?
“I…” He said, fumbling over his words. Truly, how should he respond to that? You weren’t wrong about it not being his business to care—even if you didn’t say that. 
He didn’t want to care if you did or not. Still, he couldn’t explain why he was so curious about it. 
“Mrs. Oh told me in the nurse’s office that you fainted because your last meal was two days ago…” Jungwon began as your brows furrowed.
“So? Why should you care if that were to happen or not?” You asked.
Once again, you weren’t wrong.
“You’re telling me, you wouldn’t be a little bit concerned about someone who hadn’t eaten for 2 days?” 
“If it was part of my business, sure, but if it’s not, then no.”
Jungwon pursed his lips, unsure of what to say next. He tried to think of it, but it ended up coming out on his own. He would definitely regret this later.
“Why?” He started.
“Why do you do that?” 
You remained silent and so did he. There was an obvious tension in the air and the both of you felt it easily.
You averted your eyes away from his overpowering gaze, suddenly feeling all fragile due to his sudden question. 
“Mind your own business.” You mumbled before turning around to face your desk again. 
Normally, you’d return to studying immediately, but this time you were quiet as you stared at your notebook.
You always had answers for questions. Always. However, nobody had ever asked you a question like that, and for some reason, you couldn’t find an answer for it.
Jungwon sighed and shook his head. He didn’t blame you for not answering and getting all defensive instead. It was a question that could pry into anyone’s private life, and obviously, you two were nowhere near a basis like that.
“At least eat the granola bar. I don’t want Mrs. Oh on my ass about anything.” He said before picking up his pencil and writing on his plain notebook. 
At the sound of his words, your gaze shifted to the pink wrapper on the granola, noticing how it was strawberry flavoured, one of your favourites. 
Maybe you could reconsider eating the snack he got you even if it was going against your rules. It was obvious he wouldn’t leave you alone if you didn’t.
You unwrapped the granola bar, making sure to not crush the treat inside as the bell went so suddenly.
You were both shocked at how much time went past at such a fast pace as a certain thought crossed your mind.
It was time to start another school day.
RANK FIVE.
Ever since that day, Jungwon continuously dropped you off snacks in a discreet manner. 
Although you never wanted to eat them, he made you. Your secret rule was slowly being forgotten because of his actions.
“Hey,” he called from his window seat, causing you to remove an earbud from your ear.
“Are you allergic to anything?” 
“Why?” 
Jungwon stared at you in silence. Were you really asking him that question?
“So I don’t get you anything that’ll kill you…” He said in a tone of disbelief, but you didn’t react.
“Why are you still doing this? Mrs. Oh must’ve forgotten about my visit by now. You can stop.” 
You turned away and continued writing in your notebook, leaving Jungwon baffled.
He hated how you were never wrong. Mrs. Oh definitely forgot about your visit from a few weeks ago, but Jungwon couldn’t stop his habit of giving you snacks. 
Why?
“You’re telling me you rather faint continuously?” Jungwon asked, halting the hand that went to put your earbud in your ear.
“That’s not a healthy habit. Seriously, you’re going to end up visiting the ER next.”
“As if that hasn’t happened before.” You mumbled and successfully put your earbud in your ear.
Jungwon’s face contorted in confusion, unsure of what you had said. It didn’t seem like the remark he expected, but he shrugged it off. 
Whatever.
“Jungwon!” Baekseung exclaimed, running up to the boy and hugging him from behind.
Jungwon stumbled over his feet at the sudden embrace as Minji chuckled from behind the two.
“You’re acting like you haven’t seen him in a decade.” She said, crossing her arms once she reached them.
The hallway they stood in was empty—aside from the 3 being there. 
Jungwon wasn’t even aware that he was in the hallway at the moment. His mind was elsewhere when he left the classroom.
Yes, he said he didn’t care about what you said, but he secretly did.
Did he hit a nerve or did he hit one of your soft spots? For the last few weeks, it was obvious there was a lot to you that nobody knew of, yet, Jungwon was close to finding them out.
He felt bad due to your reaction from earlier and a few days ago. Maybe he should really watch what he says from now on.
“What’s up? Do you have your head up in the clouds or something?” Baekseung asked, teasingly.
Jungwon shook out of his thoughts and looked at the boy.
“That was terrible. Never say that again.” He said, causing Baekseung to frown and Minji to laugh.
“Still, he’s right. What’s up with you lately?” Minji asked.
The three walked down the hallways, passing time before their next period started. 
“What do you mean what’s up with me?” He asked, confused at their questions. 
“You’re constantly spacing out today. Plus, you’re never running or playing basketball outside in the mornings either. I haven’t seen you for a bit every time I arrive at school.” Baekseung explained.
“Dude!” He exclaimed, tapping Jungwon’s shoulder to bring him back from his trance. 
Jungwon looked over at Baekseung, startled from the harsh tap.
“What was that for?!” He exclaimed.
“You were doing it again. Seriously, what’s up with you?” 
The three remained silent upon Baekseung’s question; Minji and Baekseung waited for Jungwon’s response while he thought of one.
What the hell was he supposed to say? 
“Is it her?” Minji asked, chiming into Jungwon’s thoughts.
“Your rival.” She added after seeing Jungwon’s confused face.
He didn’t reply to her question, instead he stayed quieter than ever. Not a peep came out of his mouth. They were almost sure he stopped breathing too.
“So it is! I knew it. Pay up, Baekseung.” Minji said with a bright smile on her face while holding her hand out in front of Baekseung.
Baekseung frowned, glaring at Jungwon as he reached into his pocket for the 10 dollar bill he promised Minji. She looked at the buck, facing the light in case it was fake.
“It’s not fake!” He exclaimed as she chuckled. 
“You never know.” Minji said and slipped the $10 into her pocket.
“Wait, you guys placed a bet on me?” Jungwon asked in disbelief.
“Well, yeah. I bet that you liked (Name) and Baekseung said you were just hooked on your university applications.” Minji said, leaning closer to Jungwon. 
“He knows nothing about love.” 
“I do!” Baekseung blurted, embarrassed at Minji’s remark. She looked over at her and shushed him with a finger on his lip.
“No, you don’t. Just accept that.” 
Jungwon shook his head, still shocked at what his friends managed to do. Why would he even be hooked on his university applications if he was 100 percent sure he’d get accepted?
Plus, liking you was definitely out of his range. Wait, liking you?
“I don’t like her! What made you ever think that?!” He exclaimed, his hands flying up in defence. 
“Yes. Yes, you do. Don’t fear it, Jungwon.” 
Minji looked over at the boy with a teasing smile. Jungwon was a little terrified at the look Minji gave him with her finger still over Baekseung’s lips.
She truly seemed psychotic. 
He began speed walking away from the two with hopes that he could escape the so-called assumptions. How would Minji know he liked you before he even knew himself? 
Pfft, she was completely wrong.
Jungwon looked at the board, writing his last bits of notes with small diagrams to go along with them. 
He was starving, but luckily, lunch was soon. 
Speaking of lunch, he wondered what snack he should bring you today. You refused to tell him what you were allergic to, so he couldn’t just get you anything.
He looked up from his notebook, stealing a glance at your seat.
Well, he thought it was your seat, but instead, there was someone slouched over the desk instead.
He continued looking around for you, maybe you switched seats without him knowing? 
No, that couldn’t be it. He saw you in the same seat this morning before classes. So, was it really you who was slouched over the desk?
That was surprising. You were always the one to be over the top when it came to education, yet, here you were knocked out mid-lesson.
“For homework, please complete pages 4 and 6. Enjoy your day everyone!” The teacher said while closing their lesson planner and leaving the classroom.
The bell sounded, signalling that lunch had begun while Baekseung and Minji took that as a chance to bother their friend, Jungwon.
“Hey!” Baekseung cheered, sitting down on the window sill like always.
Jungwon looked up at the boy with a smile as Minji turned around in her seat. 
“Seems like you don’t have much of a competition anymore.” She said, silently hinting at the girl who was fast asleep—you.
Not even the bell woke you up. You must’ve had a rough night then.
Even if it had been 5 seconds since Minji spoke, Jungwon’s eyes never left you. He was genuinely concerned for your wellbeing.
“Baekseung, didn’t you say you wanted to go to the fast food restaurant nearby for lunch today?” Minji asked, looking up at the boy who stared back in confusion.
“What—” 
Minji silenced him with a light slap on his leg, sending him a glare and mouthed the words ‘play along.’
“Oh, yeah! I’ve been craving a burger all day.” Baekseung blurted while nonchalantly rubbing on his leg and dragging out the word ‘all.’
“Jungwon, did you want anything from the fast food restaurant?” Minji asked and looked at him.
But he was still stuck in his trance. 
“We’ll get him fries.” She whispered to the boy on the window sill. The two left as quietly as they could, leaving you and Jungwon alone in the classroom.
He observed your silent state, watching how your back raised softly as you breathed. The sunlight from the windows shined on your face, making your eyelashes more visible than others.
You looked so peaceful and so relaxed. It was the first time he had ever seen you this calm and not stuffing your head in your notebooks, rubbing at your temples in a stressful way, harshly sighing and placing your pencil down when you were feeling tired or didn’t understand the formula. It was a great sight.
Jungwon was so focused on you that he didn't notice the smile on his face.  
He was smiling because of his arch nemesis. Well, could he even call you his arch nemesis if he cared about you so much?
Probably not.
The vending machine beeped as the four items hit the bottom of it. Jungwon reached down to grab the items and made his way back to class.
Was he out of his mind for still getting you snacks? Possibly. But he couldn’t stop himself, it became a habit of his. 
At least you never wasted the snacks he got you. There was one point of the day where you would eat them casually, not even paying much attention to the item in your hold. It became a habit of yours too.
Eventually, the rule became forgotten, but only at school. It still affected you at home.
You woke up in a panic. The classroom you sat in was empty, just like your notebook. The one you significantly chose for the subject.
You looked around, eyes squinting at the bright light from the uncovered windows, taking in the fact nobody—not even Jungwon—was with you. 
Great. You were so behind—something you hated.
You panicked, looking at the board to only be met with erase marks of today’s lesson. There was no way you could scavenge with something so little. 
Out of habit, you looked down at your desk and rubbed at your temples with your fingers, more stressed out than ever.
You couldn’t fall behind nor could you fail. That was your worst nightmare. Did your parents care if you were to fail a class or fall behind? Not at all. They only cared about you and your health, yet you hated that.
Honestly, growing up, you tended to be naturally good at the things you did. Your parents were, of course, super proud of you, but you didn’t think it was enough. 
You never thought anything was enough.
So, studying continuously, fainting continuously, and even starving yourself continuously became a natural routine of yours just to seek academic validation.
If you weren’t at the top of your class or your studies, you weren’t sure how your future would turn out. You would probably end up lower than ever.
No wonder you were so frustrated with yourself. How could you slack off, let alone fall asleep all class? That was so not like you. 
You were very disappointed.
The feeling of a sudden coldness on your arm made you jolt. You looked up, wondering where it came from, only to notice the boy who stood before you, Yang Jungwon.
You both looked into each other’s eyes—for the first time, you weren’t glaring. Your vision was quite blurry because of the tears that threatened to fall while he could see you perfectly fine. 
He nonchalantly placed the beverage on your desk followed by the poptart. He then made his way to his seat and sat down silently.
You stared at the two items on your desk, holding back your tears. There was nothing about the bottled coffee or the poptart that made you emotional, it was yourself and Jungwon.
You were jealous of him.
The more you attended Earl View Academy, the more you noticed how everyone adored the boy. Everyone, including staff members.
He made friends quite easily and got along with anyone possible.
However, you were the complete opposite. You had your own circle which consisted entirely of yourself and your studying materials, nothing else.
You rarely conversed with anyone, but when you did, it was always harsh. Things easily ticked you off, causing you to confront the so-called things pretty quickly.
Due to this, you were never envisioned as someone who was approachable. Even if you were on top of your studies and understood everything going on, not even many teachers took a liking to you.
It was rare to see one that did. 
There were a few times where you tried to maintain certain friendships, but they all ended quite fast. Their reasonings were always the same—you never had time to hang out with them, but you always had time to study.
They eventually fell tired of you and left you behind to befriend someone else. They always regretted even trying something with you because it always turned out to be a ‘waste of their time.’
Jungwon placed his opened notebook on your desk so you could copy down the notes he took in class.
“The homework is page 4 and 6 today. If you don’t understand anything, I could explain it to you if you want.” He said before walking back to his seat. 
He shouldn’t be this helpful to you. You two were ‘rivals’ after all—something you both silently yet mutually agreed on. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help himself. Even the sight of your tear filled eyes managed to make him feel a bit hurt.
He probably wasn’t even the cause of it, yet he felt like he was.
“How do you do it?” You asked, catching him off guard. He looked up from his phone and at the back of your head because you refused to face him in such a vulnerable state. 
“Do what? Oh, the work? Hold on, let me—”
“Not that.” You said, interrupting him as he halted in his tracks.
“…Then what?” He asked hesitantly. He genuinely had no clue what you meant. Either Jungwon couldn’t read between the lines, or he was just too stupid.
“How do I be like you?” 
RANK SIX.
Jungwon stood in silence, stunned at your sudden question. He was never asked such a thing from someone like you. 
Children were always the one to ask him that exact question, which only left him with one possible answer every time.
“You’re already like me. Smart and strong.”
It was very cringey, but every child felt confident after hearing his words. Still, you were nowhere near a child, so how could he respond to your question?
“What do you mean?” Was all he could think of. He didn’t want you to seem weak or anything, so he kept it simple and short.
Maybe an elaboration would help him with an answer next time.
“You’re so… perfect. All staff members and students adore you, or even look up to you. You always balance your time, making enough space to hangout with your friends and study at the same time. You’re athletic, smart, most likely a great son, and your parents are probably so proud of you for maintaining the top student rank continuously.” You ranted, leaving him flattered and quite flustered but confused at the same time.
“Perfect?” He asked, genuinely curious about what made you think that. 
“Yes, you’re so perfect. I’m jealous of you.” You added, finishing off your sentence while turning to face him. 
“You’re jealous of me?” 
Truly, in Jungwon’s eyes there was nothing about him to be jealous of. He had his own ups and downs, but managed to keep his composure around his friends and many others.
“Honestly, (Name), you’re fine the way you are. Yes, you have some unhealthy habits, but that doesn’t mean they can’t change.” Jungwon said while walking towards the seat in front of you. 
“I wouldn’t say I’m perfect either. Of course, I’m going to sound a bit cringey, but all of us have things we don’t show. Like, I could’ve cried on my way to class.” 
“Did you?”
“Did I do what?” Jungwon asked while taking a seat. 
“Oh. No, that was just an example. I would never cry where people could see or hear.” 
His eyes slightly widened as he raised his hands up in defence. 
“I didn’t mean you shouldn’t! Do whatever you feel comfortable with.” He said, hoping he didn’t offend you.
You used your sleeves to wipe away the few tears that managed to fall, then looked at the boy in front of you. 
“I don’t know why I’m about to tell you this, but I really need to get it off my chest.” 
“Go on,” Jungwon said in a soft voice.
Although he waited for you to speak, you hesitated. Could you even trust him? You two started off as rivals, and still were rivals, but didn’t show it as much.
Whatever, speaking your mind wouldn’t hurt.
“Honestly, it’s not that I need to be on top of my work for my parents to adore me, they do. They very much do and show it every day, but it’s me who thinks it is not enough.” You said.
“I believe if I’m distracted, I won’t be able to achieve my academic goals to the fullest, you know?” 
Jungwon nodded even if he didn’t get what you meant. He understood achieving your academic goals, but not to the point where he couldn’t do so if he were distracted.
“I mean, yeah, but considering eating meals or taking breaks as a distraction isn’t good for your mental health—or your health in general,” Jungwon explained as your eyes narrowed.
“Are you scolding me right now?” 
“Quite literally.” 
You rolled your eyes at Jungwon’s words, waving them off as if they meant nothing. 
“Pretend this didn’t happen. Tell anyone, and I’ll make sure your life in Earl View Academy is almost unbearable.” You threatened, sending daggers at the boy.
“How so?” He asked, curious as to what tricks you could pull.
“I’ll beat you on every test, I’ll beat you on the final exam, and even make sure you don’t get accepted into University of Seoul.” 
“Okay… However, in return, you have to at the very least tell me what you’re allergic to.” Jungwon said with pleading eyes.
You were shocked that was all he wanted in return. He really wanted to know what you were allergic to, but why? What good would that bring him if he knew what you could and couldn’t eat?
“Why are you so curious about that?”
“Dude, you really want me to end up killing you?” His words sounded like he was joking, but he wasn’t.
“No… I could just eat what I know I can and what I know I can’t.” 
Jungwon continued to stare at you, waiting for you to give him the actual answer he wanted. You sighed and gave into his silent begs.
“There’s nothing.”
He remained quiet, his head tilting like a lost cat.
“There’s nothing that I’m allergic to. I’ll eat anything.” You informed the boy as he held back a smile.
“Perfect.” He whispered before grabbing the notebook he gave you earlier.
“What do you mean by perfect?” You asked, causing Jungwon to glance at you with a slight smile on his lips.
“You’ll see.”
RANK SEVEN.
To be honest, yesterday you went home wondering what Jungwon was hinting at.
He pretended as if he had never brought up anything and proceeded to teach you today’s materials. It was annoying.
Yes, you wanted to know badly, but begging wouldn’t even get him to tell you anything. 
You adjusted your name tag while looking in the mirror, wondering what else you should fix up.
There was 5 minutes before you had to leave for school. Five minutes before you would get to see Jungwon.
You had no clue why you were a bit excited to see him. Usually, you never were. It was weird.
Part of you was glad he listened to what you had to say yesterday, it felt nice to get it off your chest. However, the other part of you felt ecstatic and let your heart thump even at the thought of seeing the boy.
What happened to the part of you that deeply hated him? 
You couldn’t start liking Jungwon. At least, not when there was a possibility that he still hated you or saw you like his competition.
Right?
Jungwon stretched his limbs before reaching down to tie his laces. It had been a while since he ran around the track in the morning. He wanted to see if he still had it in him. 
He couldn’t let his stamina fall because of his so-called continuous studying habits. It was also a great way to get his mind off of things, for example, you.
After yesterday’s conversation, for some reason he felt terrible about what you said. Was it his fault? No. But obviously, there was a time and place where he was in the same boat as you.
Trust him, it wasn’t the best.
This morning, he woke up extra earlier than usual because he had a lot to do—cook. He hand picked a recipe he believed you both would enjoy, and cooked all morning so it was nice and fresh by lunch.
It was way better than constantly getting snacks from the vending machine. Now, you could actually gain nutrients while eating. 
He was very excited.
But why? Why was he excited to share a meal with you? There wasn’t anything going on between, aside from your quiet studying times halfway through lunch, the conversation from yesterday, and the times you two have been paired up or went head-to-head in class.
Other than that, what was there to really be excited about?
Jungwon slowed down his pace, then leaned over while placing his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
Or was he just excited to see you? What was the meaning of all this? 
Were you the reason his heart raced as if he did his morning runs whenever he was in class? Were you the reason he was always planning what he wanted to buy the two of you on his way to school? He rarely ever did that when you didn’t attend Earl View Academy.
So, were you really the reason?
You took a seat at your desk, pulling out your studying equipment—a normal routine of yours. You always arrived at the same time, 7:30 AM, with Jungwon arriving a little after.
Shockingly, even with 5 minutes passing, he didn’t appear. That was odd, he was always on time.
You shook your head, brushing off the fact he hadn’t arrived yet. The things he taught you yesterday were the only materials you had to review this morning.
You couldn’t fall behind so easily. 
When you went home, you decided to take a break. A was a rare sight since you were always studying all night and all morning, nobody could stop you.
But for some reason, Jungwon was able to change part of your ‘unhealthy’ studying habits. At your old school, it was impossible for that to happen. Not even your short-term friendships changed anything.
It was the same old ‘Book of Rules’ you followed with no updates. 
The door slid open, showcasing an exhausted Jungwon. He walked over to the seat in front of you and placed the two snacks in an empty spot on your desk then took a seat.
It wasn’t at his actual desk, instead, it was the one in front of you. 
“Why do you seem so tired?” You asked, noticing his droopy eyes.
“I ran around the track today. It’s been a while since I’ve done it, so I guess I pushed my limits.” He explained while yawning. He stretched his arms before examining your desk; there was a partially empty space at the edge of your desk. 
It looked like it could fit most of his arms and head.
“Can I?” He questioned while gesturing at the spot from earlier. You nodded, not giving him any other reaction. 
Your heart was already racing from the ‘close’ proximity he provided. You had to keep it lowkey.
“Thanks. Wake me up a few minutes before the bell.” He said and dozed off to dreamland.
The classroom fell silent, the only thing being heard was the rustling leaves from the wind that travelled through the sky, your pencil gliding on the piece of paper you wrote on, sounding like music to Jungwon’s ears.
It was a relaxing sound. Not even close to irritating.
There were moments where you snuck in a few glances, noticing the way his face looked peaceful and less irritating than when he was wide awake. His breathing was at a usual pace as his back rose and fell at his command.
He was quite the pretty sleeper.
The formula of your work suddenly started to not make any sense. You searched the article you were looking at, realisation only hitting you a bit after.
You were working on your English, not Math. No wonder your formulas weren’t making any sense. Clearly, with how close Jungwon was to you, it was obvious you couldn’t think straight.
How often did someone mix up English work with Mathematics? It was never that often, and yet, you still managed to make the mistake.
You picked up your highlighter, forgetting about the embarrassing situation from earlier, and began highlighting simple concepts that you would need to remember when answering the questions.
Without you knowing, 30 minutes of silence passed between the two of you. You were surprised he didn’t wake up from the sound of your beating heart, because to you, it was quite loud.
You hesitated on waking up the boy in front of you. He was sound asleep. What if he woke up cranky? 
Still, he requested for you to wake him up a few minutes before the bell. He wouldn’t be mad if you did so, right?
You softly placed your hand on his shoulder and gently shook him at a slow pace. There wasn’t much momentum, however, it was still enough to wake him up.
His eyes slowly opened, eyeing the area he sat in.
He could barely see, eyes still blurred with his sleepiness. Jungwon blinked a few times before looking in front of him, spotting your shocked figure.
“Morning.” He mumbled, his words cutting short because of a yawn. He stretched his arms before looking over at the clock.
It was only 8:20 AM. It always shocked you how students weren’t filling up the classroom around this time. They always arrived at least 5 minutes before the bell. Even if it was shocking, it was quite satisfying how everyone was still on time.
“What’re you working on?” Jungwon asked, slightly curious about the reason you held a highlighter. 
“English,” you muttered. He hummed at your words and continued to inspect your desk.
“You didn’t eat?” He asked, pointing at the neatly kept snacks. It looked the same as when he first gave you them. 
You shook your head. You completely forgot about the snacks. Instead, you were more focused on calming your racing heart, so it wouldn’t have woken him up.
“Eat. At least three pieces before the lesson starts.” He said. The snacks he brought the both of you were a small packet of animal crackers. One of Jungwon’s favourites as a child.
You paused for a moment, debating if you should follow through with his request. He was staring at you, once again, causing you to feel fragile under his gaze. There was no way he would stop if you didn’t eat.
You placed your highlighter down and grabbed one of the two packets. Hopefully, that would help his strong state.
Honestly, you couldn’t help but feel taken care of because of Jungwon’s acts. Your parents were amazing to you. There was no doubt about it. Still, with Jungwon, there was a new feeling you’ve never felt with anyone else.
At your old school, you wouldn’t even have a chance at something like this. If you fainted, there was only a tiny bit of shock from others. It happened very often because of your bad habits that it became so natural to those who studied and worked there. 
But if you were to faint around Jungwon or anyone else in this school, they would be very worried. The nurse at Earl View Academy even instructed Jungwon to watch over your eating habits. 
At first, you didn’t like the idea of having a so-called babysitter, but eventually it felt nice to know someone possibly cared about you. He started off as your number one threat, and became the person you looked forward to seeing most. 
To him, you started off as someone he could never trust and his one and only arch nemesis, and became the person he watched over and enjoyed being around. 
Well, look how the tables turned.
“Also,” Jungwon said, chiming into your thoughts. Your attention was then focused onto the boy who stood up from his previous seat with his animal crackers in hold.
“You’re doing great.” He said as the bell rang as if it were completing his sentence. 
He sat in his assigned seat at the window while students began filling up the classroom. Maybe they were a little delayed today, but your heart for sure wasn’t.
You were concerned as to why Jungwon’s words had such an effect on your wellbeing, judging from how fast your heart rate was going.
You didn’t even know it was possible to experience such a rush of adrenaline. Your face felt warm as you recalled his words. 
Was he perhaps referring to yesterday’s incident? 
No matter what the reason was, you’ve never been told something like that. It was always about taking a break and slowing your pace. Even mentioning how you were trying too hard and needed to pay more attention to yourself.
But the words ‘you’re doing great’ were different. It felt like they were filling a void in your life that you didn’t even know existed. 
Whatever it was, you were thankful. 
Thankful for Jungwon. 
Jungwon watched as the ball ricocheted off the rim of the net, sighing in disappointment. 
“Gosh, straighten up.” Baekseung said and tossed the ball back to his friend.
The trio stood inside the empty gymnasium, shooting hoops for fun, until it became serious. Baekseung was quite literally concerned for Jungwon’s wellbeing.
He was missing every one of his shots. 
“You do remember he did Track and not Basketball like you, Baek, right?” Minji asked while flipping through the pages of her book. 
“I mean, yeah, but he’s never this bad.” Baekseung replied, emphasising his words.
“I’m literally right here.” 
“Oh, my bad.” 
Minji chuckled at the two, looking away at her book while placing a bookmark between the two pages she stopped on. 
“Won, what’s on your mind?” She asked. 
Great, here comes round two.
“I swear we didn’t put a bet on anything this time. Feel free to tell us anything.” 
Jungwon sighed, letting himself loose. It was now or never. He needed to settle things, so he could peacefully continue along with his day.
So… 
“How would you confirm your feelings for someone?” 
RANK EIGHT.
Minji blinked her eyes in silence as Baekseung held the basketball in his hand with a dropped jaw.
Judging by their reactions, it was obvious they didn’t know what to say, leaving Jungwon feeling embarrassed.
“Nevermind, forget I said that.”
“No, no.” Minji said, shaking her head.
“We were just… stunned, that’s all.” She reassured Jungwon who’s ears turned a light shade of red out of embarrassment.
“Is this about a particular someone?” Minji questioned, slightly wanting it to be you. 
She had been noticing the difference between Jungwon’s behaviour now and the first time you arrived. Nowadays, he was always looking at you with adoration in his eyes instead of an intense glare.
It was definitely different between you two.
“You know who it is, don’t you?” Jungwon asked, judging by her expression. It looked like she was holding off on saying something. She was terrible at hiding her expressions.
“Wait, I’m so confused,” Baekseung chimed in, dropping the basketball and making his way closer to the two.
“It’s (Name), right? The atmosphere between you two is so much different than before.”
Jungwon remained quiet upon Minji’s words. She wasn’t wrong, but she was very observant. Even Jungwon hadn’t noticed the change between you and him.
“Your silence is the only answer we need.” Baekseung said with a sly smile. 
What? Who wouldn’t act the same way after finding out his best friend had a crush on someone?
“It is…” Jungwon mumbled. 
“Okay. First question is… how do you feel when you’re near her?” 
Oh. 
Well, that could go a long way… There was at least a list of possible feelings, so where should he even start?
“Tingly. I feel tingly.” He said, recalling the moments he was with you.
To be honest, he was shocked you hadn’t realised how red the tip of his ears were when he fell asleep in front of you. It was almost an impossible process for him to sleep, but he managed.
“Sometimes, my ears become warm and my heart flutters at the sight of her smile or if I were to make her laugh…” He paused, thinking of more things to say.
“And—”
“Yeah, you definitely like her.” Baekseung interrupted with a shock yet disgusted look on his face. 
“I do?” Jungwon asked, looking at the boy with wide eyes. 
Baekseung nodded, causing him to look over at Minji who only did the same as Baekseung in return.
“Are you ever going to tell her?” Minji asked, opening up her book once again. 
“I’d embarrass myself terribly. We’re still kinda rivals in some way. Wouldn’t it be weird if I were to suddenly confess my attraction to her?” 
“Okay, Shakespeare, what the hell do you mean by attraction?” Baekseung asked as Minji chuckled. 
“He means feelings, Baek.” 
“Oh… That makes sense. I say do it, what is there to waste? You only live once.” He explained as Jungwon rolled his eyes.
It was a corny saying he had been told all his life, but they were never wrong. Things always turned out good for him if he at least tried them. Therefore, it wouldn’t hurt to profess his love for you, right?
“Jungwon, it’s 11:30, don’t you have to go now?” Minji questioned after checking the time on her phone.
“Ah, right. Thanks Min, thanks Baek.” He said before smiling at them and leaving. 
To be honest, Jungwon was expecting a longer explanation to his feelings, but comparing these moments to a book, it was awfully obvious that he liked you. It must’ve flown past his head the first time. 
You stared at the clock, awaiting Jungwon’s arrival. This was the first time you had caught yourself doing something like this. Usually, your head would be stuffed in your notebook right now, but after discovering these possible feelings for the boy you spend lunch with daily, things have changed.
Your habits must’ve been one of them.
There were moments where you glanced at the door, hoping that he would appear after every glance, but he didn’t. 
“Sorry.” A voice emitted from the doorway, heavy panting followed through. Your head whipped over, noticing the boy you were waiting for all this time. He looked up from the floor, making straight eye contact with you.
He was subtly sweaty, making it obvious that he ran here. Yes, it was a disgusting look, but to you…
He looked disgustingly handsome. It was odd, very odd, that the look made your heartbeat race. You couldn’t deny it, you definitely liked Jungwon. 
“You’re late.” You said in a teasing tone. You could care less if he was late or not, but it was fun to joke around with him.
“I’m aware.” Jungwon joked back while walking towards his seat.
“Are you hungry?” He asked while reaching into his backpack. You stayed silent, not sure how to answer that question. 
“Be honest.” He said in a serious tone and grabbed the meal he cooked this morning. 
“A little bit.” You replied as he took a seat in front of you. You eyed the containers he placed on the empty space, causing you to move your notebooks aside to create more.
He opened the containers one-by-one, leaving you stunned with every single meal. Once he was left with one container, he looked up to see your reaction, smiling at your childish look.
“Does it look good?” 
His question brought you out of your trance, causing you to straighten up immediately.
“Yes. It looks great.” You said as Jungwon chuckled at your response. You observed the 3 containers, noticing the different aspects of each; one had greens while the others didn’t.
“Oh, I wasn’t sure if you liked greens, so I separated them just in case.” He explained while pointing at the container you stared at.
You nodded at his words and hummed in amusement. Maybe you were only a tad bit hungry before, but now, you were starving. 
“You don’t have to wait for me, you can eat.” Jungwon said, gesturing at the meal in front of you two. 
You looked at him once then down at the utensils, hesitantly reaching for a spoon. Jungwon picked up on this and grabbed your hand, flipping it over while grabbing the spoon that laid on the napkin. He then placed it into the palm of your hand and looked into your eyes.
“Don’t hesitate, it’s fine.” Jungwon said and flashed you a smile, his dimples catching your eyes immediately. 
Well, maybe you weren’t hesitating on eating anymore, but you were definitely still hesitant about something…
Confessing your feelings to the boy before you.
Yeah, that could wait.
RANK NINE.
Two days ago, Jungwon had a talk with his two friends. He was reassured about his feelings for you, finalising them to a certain extent.
Today, he claimed he was ready to confess. He wouldn’t back away from doing so, and plus, there ‘wasn’t’ much time until graduation (it was 7 months away).
Of course, it was a lie. He had to make an excuse to be able to push himself to tell you how he really felt.
You, on the other hand, thought the same. But, you weren’t sure how you would approach him in a way where it wouldn’t be as awkward as you imagined.
Still, that would have to wait for the perfect time today. You couldn’t mess this up.
As your teacher spoke, your head became drowsy. Your notes seemed messy due to your eyesight blurring and nothing was comprehendible.
You shook your head, an attempt to regain your composure, but that didn’t work either. 
“Okay, everyone. I’ll leave the rest of this period for individual work time.” Your teacher said even if there was only 5 minutes before lunch. 
“Soccer today?” Baekseung asked Jungwon who wrote in his notebook. 
He nodded at his friend’s request, causing the boy to smile. It had been a while since they went to play soccer and not basketball, so it would be quite fun to reminisce about the past. 
The bell went, making 5 minutes feel like 30 seconds. To others it must’ve felt long, but to you, it felt short. You couldn’t focus on anything around you, not even the time. The throbbing headache that made its way into your system, as well as the nauseating feeling was all that occupied your mind.
Nothing else.
Not even the fact Jungwon was standing beside you right now. 
“You alright?” He asked. You looked up at him, your head spinning at the movement. It was quiet in the classroom, hinting at the fact there was practically nobody left aside from the two of you. 
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Lies. You were far from feeling ‘fine’. However, you couldn’t let him worry as much as he did about your eating habits.
You managed to flash him a convincing smile as he did the same. The gentle pat on your head before leaving felt comforting knowing it was from Jungwon and no one else. 
“I’ll be back.” He said as he walked out the classroom, leaving you alone in silence. 
You weren’t able to tell if the heat that crept up your neck was from his subtle action, or the developing fever that made its way towards you. Honestly, you could care less. It wouldn’t stop you from studying anyway.
And, well, maybe preparing your confession for the said boy.
The mesh of the net ricocheted as the ball glided against the barrier. The goalie was on the floor, the outcome of his failed attempt at blocking the ball.
“It’s okay! That was a good try.” A teammate reassured while helping the male up on his feet. 
Once the ball was thrown into play, Baekseung scanned the area, searching for an open target to send the ball to. Teamwork was all that mattered when playing sports, so, why not include everyone even if he could shoot the ball himself?
You looked out the window, noticing the view of the many boys who kicked around a soccer ball. It wasn’t the best view, but you were still able to see a few faces—Jungwon’s especially.
Most of you wanted to get a closer look. It would be nice to take a short break from studying, right? It couldn’t hurt your academics that much…
You rose from your seat, head spinning once again. It was unbearable, but you’ve experienced worse. 
See, you’ve definitely experienced worse. So, why were you on the verge of passing out, once again?
You stood in front of the window sill Jungwon’s friend, Baekseung, would always sit on. Your grip tightened the ledge, losing balance in your legs. Your vision became even blurry than before as your mind became foggy.
Yeah, you were definitely about to knock out cold. There was no way you would manage to stay conscious. 
A moment after coming to terms with the fact you were about to faint, your body hit the floor, leaving the space between two desks occupied. 
Your eyes were slowly closing as the warmth of a hand was placed on your face. Ears ringing, making anything that person said incoherent.
It was a terrible feeling. Maybe you should’ve gone to the nurse’s office at the beginning of your fever.
Yeah… Maybe.
“It’s 11:30, I have to go.” Jungwon said after checking the time on his watch. He waved goodbye to those he played with on the field, then looked at the classroom window, a smile making its way to his face.
Now it was time for 30 minutes with you. 
But where were you? He scanned the empty classroom, yet you were nowhere to be found. Your stuff wasn't there either.
You weren’t there.
He was confused. You never left your seat, no matter the reason. So, where could you have gone?
Jungwon had no clue where he was going, letting his feet take him wherever. Suddenly, he was in front of the nurse’s office. Not even he knew why he was here. 
Without hesitation, he slid open the door, a wave of nostalgia hitting him. Except, you weren’t in his arms like before.
“Oh, Jungwon. What brings you here?” Mrs. Oh greets almost immediately. That was a great question.
What brought him here? 
“I’m not sure.” Jungwon said, not knowing what else to say. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know. 
“What do you mean?” She questioned, confused. That was the first time she received an answer like his. 
The boy stared at the nurse in silence. It was awkward for her, but not for him. 
Seriously, why was he brought here?
“Is… Is (Name) here?” He asked. Part of him regretted letting his so-called question slip out while the other part hoped you were here.
Other than that, he wouldn’t have any other ideas about where you could possibly be right now. 
“Oh, yes, she is. Were you looking for her?” Mrs. Oh questioned, a slight smile plastered on her face.
Jungwon nodded, not wanting to say anything else. He already embarrassed himself enough.
He followed the direction the nurse pointed in, heading to where you were supposedly lying down.
“Apparently, she fainted in class again. One of your classmates brought her over… Turns out she had a raging fever.”
So, he wasn’t hallucinating the pained expression you gave him at the start of lunch. 
At the sounds of his footsteps, you turned around fast, pretending to be asleep.
“I saw you.” Jungwon said, pulling your curtains aside.
“Nice try.” He took a seat beside you as you bit your bottom lip, eyes squinting in defeat.
“Are you feeling better?” 
You turned around at his words to face him. The damped cloth that rested on your forehead slowly slipped off, causing him to catch it.
“A little bit.” You said as he adjusted the cloth. 
You weren’t lying about it being a little bit. At least you were now able to move.
“Did you take medication?”
You nodded, noticing the fact he was only going to continue asking questions about your wellbeing.
“I heard you fainted… Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, the worry finally sinking in.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I got up to look out the window, but I guess I overestimated my ability.” You said with a light laugh.
“Why would you get up to look out the window if you were already feeling unwell?” He asked with furrowed brows.
It was only common sense, you should’ve made your way to the nurse's office. Not somewhere to admire scenery.
“Are you lecturing me, again?” You asked, referring to the conversation in the classroom from a while ago.
“Yes. You need to take care of yourself more.” 
“But if I said I was trying to watch you play soccer, then what?” 
Jungwon felt his heart skip a beat. 
Okay. Maybe you got him there. 
“T-That doesn’t matter. Your health comes first.” He mentally cursed at himself for stuttering. Your words must’ve taken a toll on him.
“You’re boring.” You said before looking away from the boy.
To be honest, this would be the best time to confess, right? 
Mrs. Oh had left the office a while ago, meaning it was just the two of you left alone. 
When would Jungwon ever get another opportunity like this one?
“Listen,” he started, gaining your attention all over again. You look over at him, waiting for him to continue his sentence.
“I know grades are important, but your health is too. Please prioritise your health as well, okay?” Jungwon paused, hesitating with his next words.
It was now or never.
“I don't want to fall in love with a corpse. It’ll be better if it were just you.”
You stared at the boy, stunned. You couldn’t tell if your temperature was rising or you were flustered by his sudden confession.
An awkward silence followed through, as he felt his heart sink. 
Did he just mess everything up?
“Anyways… have you drank anything yet?” Jungwon asked, switching the topic really fast.
“No…” You whispered. 
He nodded his head, pursing his lips and patted his thighs.
“Okay. I’ll go get you something.” He said before rising up from his seat and leaving quite fast.
You felt bad. If it were a confession, you just left him hanging.
Jungwon pushed the buttons on the vending machine with pressure. He was embarrassed. 
Very embarrassed.
He didn’t want to show himself in that room ever again. The atmosphere was definitely still the same as before—awkward and unbearable.
Maybe he shouldn’t have taken his friend's advice. He could’ve saved himself from experiencing this sort of regret.
The sound of the juice boxes falling from their designated spots caught Jungwon’s attention. He whined at the sound, not wanting to go back at all.
Still, he couldn’t keep you waiting. 
His plan of pretending nothing happened was now set in motion. It wouldn’t be that hard to forget the previous interaction, right?
“I hope you like orange juice—”
“Was that a confession earlier or was I going crazy?”
So much for pretending nothing happened.
He stumbled in his tracks, he was nowhere near your bed yet.
“Was it?” You asked, quite literally pestering a response from him.
Jungwon mumbled something to himself. Something along the lines of hoping he doesn’t mess things up further.
“Yes, it was.” He said, a heavy sigh following through.
Although his sigh sounded stressed, yours sounded relieved.
“Oh, that’s good. I thought I was the only one.” You said, causing Jungwon to make his way to your bed even faster.
“What do you mean?” He asked, his hands carrying the juice boxes and a confused expression on his face.
“Is it not obvious?” You asked, but he remained still.
Clearly, it wasn’t.
You sighed, disappointed that he couldn’t read between the lines with that brain of his.
“I like you too, Jungwon.” 
RANK TEN.
“It really happened?!” Baekseung exclaimed, shocked. Jungwon covered his mouth with a hand, not wanting the whole world to hear about yesterday’s interaction.
“Then what?” Minji asked.
“It’s a secret.” Jungwon said with a teasing smile. Minji rolled her eyes at his response. It definitely wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
The classroom door slid open, gaining his attention quickly. You walked into the classroom, holding your books to your chest.
A smile of adoration made its way to Jungwon’s face as you looked over at him, smiling. 
Minji observed the interaction with curious eyes.
“What the hell? Never do that again, please.” Baekseung said, removing Jungwon’s hand from his mouth.
“Wait so… Are you guys, well, dating now?” Minji asked.
“Woah, no.” He said, raising his hands up in defence.
“So, you guys just confessed to each other and that was all?” She asked in a more hushed tone since you arrived.
Jungwon nodded. 
Minji was about to say something else, but the bell rang, cutting her off before she could even start. The teacher walked in, addressing everyone to return to their seats. 
You smiled to yourself and pulled out your phone to send the boy a text.
“Nice one.” It read with a smiley emoji. 
Jungwon’s phone dinged, causing him to look at it. A smile made its way to his face as he read the message. 
He was lying to his friends the whole time. Yes, that was bad to do, but it was the best way of keeping your official relationship with each other a secret.
They could know you two confessed to each other, but not that you were dating. 
To be honest, Jungwon never saw this coming. He always thought you would be someone he hated because he never knew it was possible to meet somebody who was at his level.
He truly thought he was dreaming when he first saw you and learned about that information.
But right now, he was thankful he wasn’t and was thankful that you were someone who he fell in love with.
Ξ ©HAKNOM, 2024
744 notes · View notes
pucksandpower · 6 months
Note
Hi!! I always see fics of Charles being the one who isn’t believed he’s in a relationship (and i eat it all up cause it’s such a fun trope 😌) but what if it’s the reader’s turn. Like she’s a normal university student who always talks about her boyfriend but her friends and her fellow students just don’t believe her so Charles decides to surprise her and just be the proof. Thanks in advance!!
Daydream
Charles Leclerc x engineering student!Reader
Summary: You are living the dream … except no one actually believes that your boyfriend is really your boyfriend
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You walk into class after the winter break with a sun-kissed glow and a new watch on your wrist.
Your friend Matteo notices it immediately and lets out a low whistle.
“Wow, that has to be the most realistic looking fake I’ve ever seen! Where did you get it?” He asks with a grin.
You roll your eyes but smile back. “It’s not a fake. Charles gave it to me for Christmas.”
Your friends barely give you a chance to get the last word out before they burst out laughing. You feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment and annoyance.
“Oh sure, I’m certain that your very real boyfriend, Charles Leclerc the Formula 1 driver, just happened to give you a €340,000 Richard Mille for Christmas,” your other friend Livia jokes.
“Come on guys, I’m serious! Charles and I have been dating for months now. We met when I was interning with Ferrari last year,” you insist.
But your friends just keep chuckling and shaking their heads in disbelief.
“If you were really dating an F1 driver, you would be posting cute couple-y pics all over Instagram. There’s no way anyone in that position could resist showing off a little,” Matteo argues.
You let out an exasperated sigh. You and Charles agreed to keep your relationship out of the public eye for now to avoid media scrutiny. But your friends just see this as further proof that you’re making it all up.
“Maybe he’s embarrassed to be seen with an engineering student,” Livia quips.
That stings a bit, even though you know she doesn’t mean for it to.
You slump down in your chair, absentmindedly fiddling with the exquisite watch on your wrist. You hadn’t realized it was worth so much when Charles gave it to you. The way his eyes lit up when you unwrapped it on Christmas morning was priceless. He was so excited to spoil you in any way he could. And now your friends think it’s just a cheap fake.
Charles is always doing ridiculously romantic things like flying you out on a private jet just so you can spend any free weekends together and sending you bouquets of roses bigger than you are. But no one believes that he’s really your boyfriend. To them, it’s all just part of an elaborate scheme you’ve concocted.
You met Charles when you were one of ten engineering graduate students selected for a prestigious internship with Scuderia Ferrari. You spent six months working in Maranello, learning from some of motorsport’s brightest minds.
Charles took an interest in you immediately. He would come by your workstation in the aerodynamics lab, peppering you with thoughtful questions about your projects. You would discuss aerodynamic principles and simulations for hours. Even ex-team principal Mattia Binotto said the two of you had a visible “synergy.”
Your internship had since ended but your relationship with Charles continued. You tried to play it cool at first, not wanting to seem overly eager. The day after you went back to study in Milan, he asked you out to dinner. Your first date lasted five hours as you talked endlessly about everything under the sun. You were amazed at how you never ran out of things to discuss.
Over the next few months, you grew closer and closer. Charles would take weekend trips to Milan just to see you, even if it was only for a few hours. He told you that you grounded him and reminded him that there was more to life than racing.
When he asked you to be his girlfriend after inviting you to the Monaco Grand Prix, you were shocked but ecstatic. You knew then that your hectic schedules won’t make it easy but Charles is unlike anyone you’ve ever known. He makes your heart race faster than a V12 engine.
You’re shaken from your reminiscing as Matteo waves a hand in front of your face. “Earth to Y/N! Come on, tell us where you got the watch. I want to get one too! It looks so identical to the real thing that we could probably sell it to some suckers on eBay.”
You shake your head with a huff. “Forget it, I’ll tell you all about my ‘fake’ boyfriend another time.”
For now, you’re just counting down the days until you can see Charles again.
No matter what anyone else may think, the two of you know that your love is real.
***
You’re humming along to your playlist as you drive Charles’ Purosangue on the winding roads leading to Milan. The SUV handles like a dream and you’re thoroughly enjoying the feeling of having 715 horsepower under your feet.
Your own trusty Fiat had broken down while visiting Charles in Monaco over the weekend. He insisted you take the Purosangue for the almost four hour drive back rather than waiting for a rental. You tried to decline at first, anxious about driving such an expensive vehicle. But Charles wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“I don’t like the idea of you driving all that way alone in some random rental car,” he argued. “This will be much safer and more comfortable for you, mon amour.”
You finally relented, unable to resist when he turned on the charm. Charles gave you a lengthy tutorial of all the car’s features before sending you off with a lengthy kiss and plans for your next visit.
As you pull into the Politecnico di Milano parking lot, you realize just what a scene you’re about to cause. The other students are used to seeing you in your almost ten-year-old Fiat, not a glittering metallic Ferrari.
Sure enough, jaws drop and whispers follow you as you step out of the driver’s seat. Matteo quickly spots you from across the lot and comes jogging over eagerly.
“No way! Is that ... is that a Purosangue?” He gapes. “What are you doing with that?”
“Funny story actually. My car broke down when I was visiting Charles in Monaco last weekend. So he let me borrow this while mine is in the shop.”
Matteo stares at you blankly. “Visiting Charles ... in Monaco?” He throws his head back and laughs. “Your dedication to this bit is honestly impressive, Y/N. But there’s no way that the Charles Leclerc just gave you his Ferrari to drive back to Milan.”
You sigh but you’re determined not to let Matteo get under your skin this time. “Believe what you want. But I had an amazing weekend with my boyfriend before heading back to reality today.”
You head into class, Matteo trailing behind you, still shaking his head in disbelief. Livia immediately jumps up when she sees you.
“Shut up, is that really a Ferrari outside?” She gasps. You nod nonchalantly and take your seat.
“Y/N here is trying to convince us that her boyfriend let her borrow it over the weekend,” Matteo says with an exaggerated eye roll.
“You do realize those start at €390,000 right?” Livia says. “Why on earth would Charles Leclerc of all people let you drive his brand new ultra luxury SUV around?”
You throw your up hands in indignation. “Maybe because he’s my boyfriend and he wanted to help me out! Why is that so hard for you guys to believe?”
But instead of listening to you, other classmates join the conversation and chime in with their own theories about why you suddenly have a Ferrari.
“Maybe she rented it to play a prank on everyone,” suggests Liam.
“No way,” Eva argues. “Maybe she got a big inheritance? Some distant rich relative died and left their fortune to Y/N?”
You groan internally. But before you can respond, your professor walks in and instructs everyone to take their seats.
Through the lecture, you catch people whispering and pointing discreetly at you. By the time class ends, you just want to go home and video chat with Charles about your frustrating day.
As you pack up your things, Livia comes over. “So have you thought about what you’ll tell people when they see you getting out of that Ferrari for the foreseeable future?” She asks.
You blink at her. “The truth? That Charles loaned it to me while my car is in the shop,” you say slowly.
She pats your shoulder. “Come on Y/N, the joke was funny at first but now it’s just getting sad. No one actually believes that you’re dating Charles Leclerc and driving his cars around. Just tell us where you really got it so we can all move on from this weird fantasy life you’ve constructed.”
You stand up abruptly, shoving your notebook in your bag. “It’s not a fantasy,” you spit sharply. “It’s my real life and I’m sorry you can’t accept that. But I don’t need to convince you or anyone else.”
You storm out of the classroom, blinking back frustrated tears.
Pulling out your phone, you text Charles.
I miss you. My friends still think I’m making this all up. I can’t wait to see you in Spain next race.
Charles texts back immediately.
Not as much as I miss you. Don’t worry about what other people think, we know our love is real.
And you looked so hot driving my car 😉
You smile down at your phone, comforted by his words. You may never get your friends and classmates to believe your relationship, but as long as you and Charles know the truth, that’s all that truly matters.
Sliding back behind the wheel of the shiny Ferrari, you feel your stress melt away. Who cares what anyone thinks? You have an amazing boyfriend who trusts you with his most prized possessions. And someday when you and Charles are ready to share your love with the world, everyone’s jaws will drop in disbelief.
For now, you’ll just enjoy the ride.
***
It’s nearly time for summer break and you’re sitting outside with Matteo, Livia, and some other friends, soaking up the sunshine.
“We should all go backpacking around the Greek islands in August!” Suggests Livia. “We could start in Athens, then ferry to Mykonos, Santorini, and end in Crete. Who’s in?”
Everyone voices their enthusiasm for the idea. Then Matteo turns to you. “How about it, Y/N? Take a break from your ‘boyfriend’ and come adventuring with us common folk.”
You take a deep breath and stir your coffee, debating on how to break the news. “That sounds amazing but I already have plans for the summer.”
“Oh yeah? Going home to see your family?” Matteo asks.
You take a deep breath. “Actually, Charles and I are going on a vacation for a few weeks.”
Your friends erupt into laughter.
“A holiday? With Charles Leclerc?” Livia giggles. “Girl, your fantasies are really taking off lately!”
You frown in annoyance. “I’m serious. Charles chartered a yacht and everything. I wish you could see how excited he is for our first big trip together. He’s been planning it for months.”
Livia pats your hand gently. “Sweetie, we know you’re probably feeling financial pressure with school and all. You don’t have to lie about going off on some glamorous vacation. If you can’t afford to join us in Greece, just say so.”
You stare at her in disbelief. “This isn’t about money. Charles and I have been looking forward to this since the start of the season! I’m sorry that our relationship is still so unbelievable to you.”
Your aggravation must show on your face because Matteo holds up his hands appeasingly. “Look, I’m sure whatever you end up doing this summer will be great. But clearly this whole Charles charade has gone too far. It’s time to come clean.”
You stand up abruptly, grabbing your things. “I don’t need to come clean about anything. My relationship with Charles is real, whether you choose to believe it or not.”
You storm off fuming. Your friends’ outright refusal to even entertain the notion that you could be dating Charles is so patronizing and demeaning. Do they really think so little of you?
That night, you vent to Charles over FaceTime about the conversation.
“I just don’t get why it’s so hard for them to believe me! I know we’re not exactly a super conventional couple but it’s like they think I’m delusional,” you sigh.
Charles gives you a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry they’re being like this, mon cœur. But try not to let it upset you too much. We know the truth about our love. That’s what matters.”
You nod, cheered as always by his encouragement. “You’re right. I’m just so excited for our trip! Sailing around the Mediterranean with you all to myself? It’s going to be a dream.”
Charles grins. “Oh I can’t wait either. The yacht has a hot tub on deck under the stars. I want to make sure it’s just as magical as you deserve.”
You spend the rest of the call discussing your vacation itinerary and plans for when your families will join you in Sardinia.
Charles reassures you again not to worry about what others think.
“Soon we’ll share our love with the world. But for now, let’s just focus on us,” he says softly.
By the time you hang up, your frustration has faded. Matteo and Livia may not believe you but in a few short weeks you’ll be cruising the bright blue Mediterranean with the man of your dreams.
The day finally comes for your trip to begin. As Charles helps you aboard the sleek yacht, you forget all about your friends. They don’t know him like you do. And they definitely don’t know how he kisses you goodbye at the airport or the special way his eyes light up when he says “I love you.”
This vacation will be everything you’ve been dreaming of. And you know Charles will do whatever it takes to make it unforgettable.
As the yacht pulls away from the marina, the only thing on your mind is the blissful weeks ahead with your love. Everything else fades blissfully into the background.
***
You walk with the group of engineering students through the halls of Maranello, thrilled to be back at the Ferrari factory. You did your internship here last year but walking around still feels surreal.
As you pass the simulator room, you hear someone call your name.
“Y/N! Hold on a second!”
You turn and see Gianni, one of the simulator engineers you befriended during your internship. He jogs over holding a sleek black ring.
“Charles left this after his session the other day,” he presses the familiar band into your palm. “Can you get it back to him?” Gianni asks.
You grin, turning the ring over in your hands. Charles hates taking off his Oura fitness tracker but has to for simulator runs.
“Of course, I’ll give it back to him when I’m in Monaco.”
You turn back to your friends, expecting this to be the final push they need to believe you.
But Livia just rolls her eyes. “Come on Y/N, he is obviously in on this whole charade. I bet you convinced him to play along!”
The other students nod, chuckling. Your smile disappears.
“What? No, Gianni and I really worked together when I interned here! This isn’t some weird prank,” you insist.
Matteo pats your shoulder condescendingly. “It’s alright, you don’t have to keep pretending with us. We get it, you want people to think you’re dating Charles Leclerc. But it’s getting kind of sad now.”
You clench your fists in frustration as the group moves on. Why are they being so stubborn? You clearly know people here and have a real connection to Charles.
When you pass the aerodynamics lab, your mood lifts a bit. Your favorite team leader, Fabio, is there working on computational fluid dynamics simulations.
“Y/N! So great to see you back here!” He greets you warmly and pulls you into a friendly hug.
You chat with him for a few minutes, explaining about the visit. As you say goodbye, he adds, “Tell Charles I said hi when you see him this weekend!”
But Matteo just scoffs as you walk away. “Let me guess — he’s in on it too?”
You don’t even bother responding this time, too irritated. Why should you have to convince your so-called friends of anything? You don’t owe them proof when they’re clearly set on ignoring it.
As the tour concludes, Livia pulls you aside, her expression serious.
“Look Y/N, we’re a bit worried about you. All these stories ... it just seems unhealthy. We think you should talk to someone,” she says gently.
You gape at her. “Unhealthy? Because I mentioned my boyfriend a few times on a trip to his workplace? You guys are unbelievable.”
Livia frowns. “Come on, it’s more than that and you know it. The jewelry, the car, the traveling ... it’s all an elaborate fantasy life. We just want what’s best for you.”
You feel anger bubbling up inside you. Livia reaches for your arm but you jerk away.
“You want what’s best for me? Then start believing me! I love Charles and he loves me. I don’t need therapy just because you refuse to accept the facts,” you snap.
Livia looks taken aback. You don’t wait for her response, just turn on your heel and stalk away fuming.
You pull out your phone and call Charles, needing to vent. When he picks up, the sound of his voice instantly calms you.
Charles listens patiently as you recount the horrible field trip. “I’m so sorry they’re being like this, ma belle,” he soothes. “But you handled it well. Don’t let them make you question yourself.”
You sigh. “I just wish they could see how happy you make me. I hate that our love seems so unbelievable.”
“It’s their loss for not seeing what we have,” Charles replies. “Soon everyone will realize that I only have eyes for you.”
You chat for a while longer, feeling reassured. Your friends’ doubt used to make you sad but now it mostly just angers you.
You know the truth. This weekend when you fly to Monaco and fall asleep in Charles’ arms, what Matteo and Livia think won’t matter one bit.
The only thing that matters is the love between you and Charles.
And one day, both of you will make sure the whole world knows that it’s as real as it gets.
***
It’s Friday morning and you’re stuck in your Principles of Advanced Aerodynamics lecture, anxiously watching the clock.
The Italian Grand Prix weekend starts today but your professor refused to excuse you from class early. Which means you’re missing out on precious hours with Charles before free practice later today.
You resigned yourself to not seeing him until tonight when the classroom door bursts open.
And there stands Charles, looking unfairly handsome in a Ferrari branded polo and jeans.
“Sorry to interrupt professor,” Charles flashes a charming grin. “But I’m going to need to steal Y/N away for the weekend.”
He shoots you a playful wink and your heart melts.
Your classmates erupt in excited whispers as they realize that the Charles Leclerc is standing in front of them. Your professor’s lips are moving but no discernible sound comes out.
The professor struggles to find words for a moment. “You’re ... you’re Charles Leclerc!” He stammers.
Charles smiles humbly. “Yes sir. And as I’m sure you know, the free practice for the Italian Grand Prix starts today. I’ll need to have my good luck charm there with from the very start.”
He extends his hand to you.
You grab your bag, legs wobbling as you make your way to the front. Charles wraps a supportive arm around your waist.
“You see professor, Y/N is my biggest supporter. My results improve dramatically when she’s present. So surely any Ferrari fan would agree that she must be trackside all weekend?” Charles urges charmingly.
The professor nods mutely before seeming to find his voice again. “Yes, of course! We certainly want the best results for Ferrari here at home. Y/N, you’re excused for the day. If you give me just a moment ...” He rummages through his bag with shaking hands and pulls out a Ferrari phone case.
“Would you mind?” He asks sheepishly.
“Not at all,” Charles smiles, taking the case and scrawling his signature across it with a provided permanent marker.
Your professor looks ready to faint. “Thank you so much. Enjoy the race weekend. Forza Ferrari, sempre!”
Trying not to laugh, you quickly gather up the rest of your things. Your friends watch wide-eyed as Charles takes your hand.
“Ready, mon amour?” He asks.
When you nod, he sweeps you into his arms and kisses you passionately in front of the entire class.
“I missed you,” he murmurs against your lips.
You cling to him, dizzy from the kiss. “Not as much as I missed you. I can’t believe you came here just to pick me up.”
Charles caresses your cheek. “I’ll always come for you. Now let’s get going to Monza. I want to show you how much I appreciated your good luck texts before practice.”
He keeps your hand clasped firmly in his as you make your way outside. When you glance back through the windows, your classmates are still staring after you in stunned disbelief.
Once you’re in the familiar 488 Pista, you finally let out the laugh you’ve been suppressing. “Did you see the looks on everyone’s faces? I thought Professor Mancini was actually going to faint.”
Charles grins. “I know dramatic gestures aren’t usually my style but I wanted them to see once and for all that you’re mine.”
He lifts your intertwined hands to his lips. “No more doubting our love after today. And I meant what I said — you’re my good luck charm, Y/N. Having you here this weekend means everything.”
You smile up at him softly. “I’m just happy I can be here to support you.”
He kisses you deeply, still parked outside of the Politecnico, not caring who sees. And you know without a doubt that this amazing man and your once-in-a-lifetime romance are completely real.
The rest of the day flies by in a blur of excitement. In between practice sessions, Charles takes any chance he can to steal moments alone with you in his driver’s room.
His tender kisses and whispered reminders of his love send your heart racing faster than an F1 car.
***
It’s race day in Monza and you’re walking through the paddock hand-in-hand with Charles. His physio and press officer trail behind you both as Charles waves to the cheering Tifosi in the stands.
Suddenly, you hear voices calling your name.
You look over to see Matteo and Livia leaning over the fence, trying to get your attention.
“Y/N! We’re so sorry we didn’t believe you!” Livia shouts.
“Please come talk to us!” Yells Matteo. “We feel awful about everything!”
You stop short, conflicting emotions swirling through you. Charles senses your hesitation and squeezes your hand supportively.
“What do you want to do, mon cœur?” He asks. “I can try to get them paddock passes last minute if you want to talk.”
You bite your lip. Part of you wants them to witness first-hand the depth of your relationship with Charles. To show them just how wrong they were to mock and belittle your love.
But another part of you is still hurt by their stubborn refusal to believe you all this time. Do they really deserve VIP paddock access after the way they treated you?
“I don’t know, Charles ... they were so patronizing about our relationship for so long. I’m not sure they deserve the reward of paddock access after demeaning my feelings,” you reply.
Charles nods thoughtfully. “I understand. It’s completely up to you, of course. But it could be nice for them to see up close just how real our love is. Watching us together will help it finally sink in.”
You feel a smile tugging at your lips. Charles does make an appealing case ...
“Alright, I can’t say no to that adorable face,” you laugh and kiss his cheek. “But maybe keep them waiting a bit first as payback!”
Charles grins mischievously. “I think that can be arranged.” He pulls you in for a passionate kiss, dipping you backwards dramatically.
The crowd erupts in cheers and whistles, a wild and beautiful sea of Rosso Corsa.
When you come up for air, you see your friends watching open-mouthed from the stands. Charles winks at them over your shoulder before leading you away, his arm curled firmly around your waist.
Several hours later, Matteo and Livia finally receive their paddock passes. They rush over to you right away, profusely apologizing again.
“Seeing you and Charles together in class was unbelievable, but this ...” Matteo trails off, darting around at the bustling paddock with wide eyes. “You really are dating an F1 driver!”
You exchange an amused look with Charles. “Yes, that is what I’ve been trying to tell you for many months now,” you laugh.
Livia hugs you tightly. “I’m so sorry for ever doubting you. But after today, we’ll never question your relationship again.”
Charles wraps an arm around your shoulder. “I hope after witnessing our love up close, you will see there is nothing Y/N wouldn’t do for me, just as I would do the same for her.” He gazes down at you tenderly and you feel your heart skip a beat.
You and Charles both laugh as your friends turn red. “We’re really happy for you two,” mumbles Matteo. “Hopefully we can all start over now.”
Charles smiles kindly. “Of course! Y/N’s happiness is what matters most to me and I know how important her friends are to her.”
You feel yourself falling even more in love with this man and his endless patience and compassion.
The race keeps you on the edge of your seat from start to finish. When Charles takes the top step on the podium, you and your friends scream loudly enough to be heard in Milan.
That night at the celebration, Charles gives a sweet toast about how your love inspires him.
Matteo and Livia watch with tears in their eyes.
“Wow, when you said your boyfriend was romantic, you really meant it,” Livia whispers.
“I told you, Charles is one-of-a-kind. I’m so lucky to be his and to be loved by him.”
Charles comes over and pulls you into his arms, nuzzling your hair. “I’m the lucky one, mon ange.”
He stops and takes both of your hands, gazing into your eyes intently. “I never want you to doubt what we have, Y/N. You are everything to me. My whole world.”
Matteo shakes his head in wonder as he takes in the pure love clearly shining in both of your eyes. “We’re so sorry we ever doubted that what you have is real. Seeing you together, it’s obvious your love is straight out of a fairytale.”
You grin up at Charles, your heart overflowing. With his kisses still lingering on your lips and surrounded by friends who finally believe, you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
Now everyone can see your love just as clearly as the two of you always have.
***
Today is the day you’ve been working towards for years — your graduation from the Politecnico di Milano with your Laurea Magistrale in Aeronautical Engineering.
The auditorium is packed with proud families as you line up with your classmates, dressed in formal robes and caps. Charles insisted on coming, despite it being right before the start of a triple header. And having him here means the world to you.
When your name is called, you grin widely as Charles’ cheers rise above the polite applause of the audience. He gives you a standing ovation, not caring that he is blocking everyone’s view.
His pride and support brings happy tears to your eyes. You blow him a discreet kiss and see him pretend to catch it, pressing his hand to his heart.
After the ceremony ends, you rush straight into Charles’ arms. He swings you around then kisses you deeply. “I’m so proud of you, mon amour! All of your hard work has paid off.”
You hug him tight, overwhelmed with emotions. “Having you here today, supporting me every step ... it’s the best gift I could ask for.”
Charles strokes your hair tenderly. “I wouldn’t have missed this for anything. But I do have one more surprise ...”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope with the unmistakable Ferrari seal.
Handing it to you, Charles bounces excitedly on his toes. “Go on, open it!”
With shaking hands, you open the letter and read the words offering you a position as a Junior Aerodynamics Engineer with Scuderia Ferrari.
“Charles, what ... how ...” you stammer in shock.
He smiles widely. “Enrico Cardile was very impressed with the work you did during your internship as well as your thesis.”
You continue staring at the letter. “But I don’t want special treatment just because I’m your girlfriend. I want to earn a position at Ferrari on my own merits,” you say uncertainly.
Charles grasps your hands. “Mon ange, you know I would never influence the team’s decisions. They want you because of your skills, not our relationship. I only asked if I could deliver the news as a graduation gift when I found out.”
You bite your lip. “It’s just ... I don’t want anyone thinking that I didn’t earn this.”
“Listen to me,” Charles quickly gets serious. “You are the most talented, driven, and intelligent person I know. You’ve worked relentlessly for this and Ferrari recognizes that. Please don’t doubt for one second that you deserve this.”
His sincere words dissolve your concerns. He’s right — you interned successfully with the team already. You can do this.
You throw your arms around him again. “Then I accept the offer! I’m going to be a Formula 1 aerodynamicist!”
“You will be incredible, Y/N. I can’t wait to see you thriving there. You’re going to change the world with that beautiful mind of yours.”
You cling to him, overwhelmed with emotions. “I couldn’t have done any of this without your love and support. You gave me the strength to keep pursuing my dreams.”
Charles tips your forehead to his, eyes shining. “And you gave me the gift of true love. My life is so much richer with you in it.”
He kisses you until you’re both smiling too widely to continue. Taking his hand, you turn to look out at the gathered families, classmates, and professors mingling around.
Just months ago, no one believed your relationship with Charles was real. But here you stand, ready to take on the world together.
Your storybook romance has grown into an unshakable partnership.
As Charles squeezes your hand, you know that the next chapter of your lives will be even better. You can’t wait to build your future with this amazing man — both on and off the track.
***
10 years later
You take a deep breath as you walk into the familiar lecture hall at the Politecnico di Milano. Looking out at the eager young students, you remember sitting in their place not so long ago. Back when you were just starting your engineering studies, never dreaming you would one day return as a guest lecturer.
Charles insisted on coming with you today and you scan the room until you spot him sitting inconspicuously in the back row, trying his hardest not to draw attention to himself. He gives you an encouraging thumbs up.
“Good morning, everyone. For those who don’t know me, I am Y/N Leclerc — Head of Aero Development at Scuderia Ferrari and former student right here at Polimi.”
As you start your lecture on the aerodynamic theory behind Ferrari’s latest championship-winning car, you easily slip back into the familiar rhythms of university life.
Discussing complex simulations and wind tunnel testing with these eager minds reminds you of the days you were in their shoes.
You can hardly believe it’s been 10 years since you sat in this very room, never imagining the incredible journey ahead.
After joining Ferrari, you and Charles found ways to balance your personal and professional lives through compassion and communication.
Winning your first World Championship together was a euphoric blur of champagne and ecstatic team celebrations. Being the first female Director of Aerodynamics in Formula 1 was daunting but Charles never stopped believing in you.
When he got down on one knee after winning in Monza and asked you to be his wife, it was one of the happiest moments of your life. Planning a wedding while chasing championships was no easy feat but your passion for racing and each other kept you going.
Now, five championships later, you’ve settled into a blissful rhythm as partners both on and off the track. There were tough times and painful losses but coming home to each other’s arms helped erase the remnants of any bad day.
As you wrap up the lecture and open the floor to questions, a female student raises her hand. “As a woman working in F1, what’s the best advice you can give aspiring engineers like me?”
You smile, thinking back on your own self-doubts starting out. “Don’t be afraid to take up space and make your voice heard,” you tell her. “Formula 1 needs more brilliant women like you. If you love the science and the cars, pursue this career fiercely no matter what anyone says.”
The student thanks you excitedly and you make a mental note to talk to Charles about establishing an engineering scholarship for female students.
After the lecture finishes, Charles comes up to greet you with a tender kiss. “You were incredible up there. I’m so proud to call you my wife.”
You kiss him back, still just as dizzyingly in love as that first date all those years ago. “I couldn’t have done it without my biggest cheerleader here supporting me.”
As you walk hand-in-hand back to the car, you think about how far you’ve come together.
A storybook romance, successful careers, and most importantly, an unbreakable partnership built on love and trust.
When Charles said your love would overcome any doubt, you never imagined how right he would be.
But now, as the Italian sunlight glints off your matching wedding bands, you know the best is still yet to come.
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norrizzandpia · 6 months
Text
It’s Your Birthday. Of Course, I’m Here. (LN4)
Summary: It’s Lando’s birthday and Y/n can’t make it. Or so he thinks.
Warnings: language, Lando missing her gravely
Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY HUSBAND? I’m so in love with this man this is a national holiday.
“Are you boarding the plane?” Oscar asked Y/n from his side of the phone, his body turned away in the corner of hospitality.
Y/n, the girl murmuring a thank you to the flight attendant scanning her ticket, nodded with a smile, “Yes, I am. How is he? Does he know I’m coming?”
Oscar giggled, “Oh, no way. He’s been moping around all week because he thinks you won’t be here for his birthday. He doesn’t even want to go out on the night of his birthday! We’re in Vegas!”
Y/n laughed along with him, her heart slightly breaking for her boyfriend and his pity party, “Oh, no! Poor Lando. Well, hopefully, he’ll want to go out when he sees me.”
A mechanic tapping Oscar’s shoulder caused him to retreat from the conversation, “Yeah, exactly. Listen, I have to go, but text me when you land.”
Noises of agreement sounded from her as she said goodbye and hung up the phone. Oscar, standing awkwardly in front of his coworker, tried to seem nonchalant.
Jake smiled at him, “They need you in the garage.”
When he was about to walk past him, Jake grabbed Oscar’s arm, “Were you just talking to Y/n?”
Oscar’s heart dropped, plummeting to his feet when the surprise they had been planning for weeks was jeopardized. He shook his head immediately, “No. Not at all.”
Jake nodded slowly, “So, she’s not coming down here to surprise Lando for his birthday after telling him she couldn’t make it to that or the Vegas Grand Prix?”
Oscar sent him a confused look, “No.”
Yes.
Stepping off the plane, Y/n felt her palms become slick with the sweat of her nerves. This part of the plan was the hardest, getting to where Lando was without being recognized. With her hood pulled up, sunglasses on, and a mask resting tightly over the bottom half of her face, she weaved her way through crowds of people. Some were wearing Formula 1 merchandise, a few papaya fans sticking out, which brought a small smile to her face in memory of the man she was on her way to see.
Flashes of his sad smile plagued her brain from when she had told him she wouldn’t be able to tag along with him to the Vegas GP like she usually did, missing his birthday in the midst. He had assured her it was okay after she explained that she had an important test for university she couldn’t miss, however Y/n could see it in the way his eyes glazed over that he was trying to hold back begging her to skip it. He was trying to be a good boyfriend, that much she could tell and that much she was grateful for, but after seeing how disappointed he became, his laugh not holding its usual luster, she went to the professor to beg herself. She had explained to him the situation, even “jokingly” offering him free F1 paddock tickets in exchange for letting her take the test at a later date. By some miracle, or more genuinely by her professor’s kindheartedness, he told her that, because her grade was so strong, he would allow her to take it the week after she came back from her weekend in Nevada. He had laughed, praised her devotion toward her boyfriend, and told her that he was a fan of Lando himself, rooting for his coming win every race. The man had been so accommodating, Y/n had almost cried in front of him in his office, but she settled for crying in the privacy of the bathroom down the hall.
After that, she called Oscar, the boy letting out a sigh of relief that he wouldn’t have to handle Lando without his girlfriend and agreeing to help her surprise him.
Then, like a sequence of events, things fell into place. The McLaren marketing team caught wind of their plan and forced them to allow them to videotape the entire event, mentioning how fans would obsess over new Y/n and Lando content.
So, she found herself sliding into the backseat of a private driver for McLaren workings, with their camera man, John, sitting beside her.
She had met him before, multiple times considering how much time he spent with Lando, so the atmosphere was already comfortable.
John turned on the camera, the red light flickering as he asked, “So, how are you feeling?”
She smiled, “Good, excited to see him.”
John chuckled, “And who is ‘him’? Explain to the fans what we are doing.”
Y/n nodded, picking at the fraying edges of Lando’s hoodie she was wearing, “I am surprising Lando for his birthday! I just got off the plane from Monaco, landed here in Las Vegas, and, now, we are on our way to drop my stuff off at the hotel and then get ready to go see him! Originally, I wasn’t supposed to come, obviously, because I had a test I needed to take for my class, but my teacher, being the sweetest person to grace this Earth, allowed me an extension.”
John hummed, “And how do you think he will react?”
She let her head fall back on the seat behind her, smiling to herself at her predictions, “I think he’ll probably freak out. He’s always one for drama, don’t think that will change this time around.”
The camera shook lightly with John’s laughter, the two giggling over the driver. They shook their heads and rambled on about past instances where he’d blown minor things out of proportion. Promptly, Y/n compared herself and the surprise in store as something minor, but John was quick to disagree.
“You are so far from minor to that boy.”
The Hiltons that McLaren always put their workers up at always amazed Y/n. Being a broke college student who had barely scraped enough money together to study abroad in Monaco, her jaw was always on the floor when she walked through the doors and was met with the crystal chandelier, the granite floors, and grand vases of beautiful, colorful tulips and roses. Nonetheless, she had gotten slightly used to it after being with Lando for two years. She would always remember the first time he brought her along to a race, her staying in his room with the gigantic balcony accompanied by a jacuzzi and pool. He had told her it wouldn’t be anything special, but was proved wrong when they were given keys to the penthouse. She had gawked and gasped, all things Lando laughed at, while wandering through the rooms.
That weekend was ingrained into her mind as the introduction to Lando’s world.
John, camera by his side, conversed with the concierge as he checked her into Lando’s room. They had to be incredibly sly. They knew once Y/n surprised him, Lando wouldn’t settle for anything but her sleeping in his room. So, they wanted to solve that problem earlier, having Y/n drop her bags off in his room before everything unraveled.
They just needed to make sure he wasn’t there.
They just needed to make sure they didn’t disturb anything in the room, hiding her bags in the closet and hoping for the best.
When the receptionist validated Y/n’s identity, she gave them a key to his room. It was silent in the elevator as they climbed the floors, only having it being cut when her phone buzzed.
She reached down and turned it over, seeing a text from Oscar.
Oscar
DONT COME UP YET! WE HAVENT LEFT HIS ROOM
“Shit!” She yelped, typing furiously over the keyboard in response.
John turned the camera on, not wanting a moment to go to waste, “What’s going on?”
She turned her head, looking at him in a panic, “They’re still in his room!”
Their faces dropped, hearts pounding, as the elevator doors dinged and began opening. Lando’s voice filtered through the doors, along with Oscar’s. The two men were bickering.
“Lando, you’re taking so fucking long! Move your ass!” Oscar said, annoyed and very clearly agitated.
Lando groaned, “I don’t want to go out! Leave me alone!”
John’s mouth was on the floor at the footage he was getting as Y/n and him slid into the penthouse, trying desperately to find a hiding place.
She picked up her suitcase, however heavy, and walked carefully down a separate hallway that seemed to lead to a closet.
The two were close to getting there, out of sight, when Lando’s footsteps sounded close to them, rapidly approaching their location.
“Did the elevator just open?! I heard it!”
Y/n held her breath as she and John ran like hell into the first room they could find, it being a guest bedroom. She locked the door, listening intently to whatever was unfolding on the other side.
Oscar seemed to be feet away from her, “No, mate, it fucking didn’t. Now, can we leave? We have your birthday dinner to go to!”
Lando scoffed, “Fine, but if there is an intruder in my room and they end up stealing all my stuff, you’re paying for it.”
Knowing it was Y/n and the cameraman, Oscar nodded along, “Sure, mate.”
The elevator dinged once more with the two of them ready for departure, Lando giving, “And, for the record, I don’t even know why we’re going to a dinner for my birthday. I told you my birthday won’t be the same without Y/n. I told you I didn’t want to celebrate it if she wasn’t here.”
Y/n could see Lando’s pouty demeanor in her head along with Oscar’s dismissive face as he retorted, “Uh huh.”
—-
Thankfully, the rest of it all had gone smoothly. Dropping her things off after they left, getting ready, and getting to the restaurant all went according to plan.
In the last moments in the car before Lando was made aware of the things going on behind his back, John brought out the camera, “How you doing?”
Y/n nodded slowly, “Kind of nervous?” She giggled, shaking her head, “I don’t know. I just hope he didn’t catch on or anything.”
John blew a raspberry, “No way he did. I mean, that hotel thing was a super close call, but he didn’t know. I’m sure he doesn’t know.”
His words reassured her and, as they turned the corner with the destination seconds away, she said one last thing to the camera, “Lando, if you ever end up watching this, I don’t know if you watch these, I just want you to know I love you so much and I’m so proud of you and I hope you know I will stop at nothing to spend your birthday with you. You’re a fool for thinking I wouldn’t be here. I know I can say all of these things when I see you because I’m about to, but I think this just has a different impact. Plus it lets everybody know you’re mine. By the way, next time, take a shorter amount of time to get ready please. Jesus Christ, you gave me a heart attack earlier today when I had to run around your hotel room and find a hiding place because you wouldn’t leave.”
At that, the valet opened her door and she stepped out. John kept the footage going, knowing they would arrive at the grand finale any moment, and followed her into the establishment.
She walked up to the hostesses, the two women smiling back at her, “Hi, I’m here for the Norris reservation. I’m a bit late, I know, but I’m surprising the birthday boy.”
The workers’ faces lit up in realization, “Oh, you’re the girlfriend? His friend, the Australian, sorry I forgot his name, told us you would be coming. Right this way, miss.”
The brunette turned around and began walking toward the back, toward a private room. She made light conversation along the way, mentioning that Lando had spent the majority of their waiting for the table rambling about how much he wanted to call Y/n.
She was blushing by the time they stopped outside of the door that led to where the party was, thanking the woman for directing them and moving to face John.
“Ready?” She asked, looking at the camera to make sure that red light was blinking.
He nodded, “Always.”
She took a deep breath and opened the door lightly. Lando’s back was to her, Max, Oscar, and his parents facing her. She could tell they were trying to hold in their excitement as Lando retold a story about her and him getting ice cream one night at 3 AM. Their smiles were just barely being withheld from their faces as she waved to them softly and John stationed himself at an angle where the camera could see Lando’s reaction when he turned around.
He continued on, blissfully unaware of the girl behind him, “And then she said this really funny joke! Oh, crap, I can’t remember what it was. It was some cheesy dad joke about ice cream and I remember laughing so hard I almost peed my pants. Shit, what was it?”
A silence mulled over as he tried to remember, Y/n noticing her perfect cue, “I said, ‘why are popsicles so snobby?’ And you said you didn’t know, so I said, “they have a stick up their butt’. I’m pretty sure you did pee your pants laughing.”
She saw the way Lando’s hands tightened around the glass of water he was holding. He froze, “Am I going insane or is Y/n standing behind me?”
Cisca, the woman smiling from ear to ear, “She’s behind you, love.”
The glass came clattering down as he shot up from his chair and turned around wide-eyed.
“Y/N!” He screamed, running over to her and forcefully crashing into her, wrapping his arms tightly around her.
She laughed loudly as he kissed her neck aggressively, a thousand times over again. She let her arms intertwine around his neck and her hands tangle in his hair, whispering, “Happy birthday, baby. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I love you so much. You deserve all this and more.”
He pulled away, eyes glossy as he stared down at her and held her to him, “I missed you so much.”
She smiled back, “It’s only been a week, Lan.”
He scoffed, “Yeah, and that’s way too fucking long.”
She nodded as he leaned down and captured her lips with his, his friends whooping behind him teasingly.
He pecked her lips innocently, saving what he really wanted to do for the later part of the night, and led her to the table.
John and Y/n took their rightful seats, teeth on display at the success of their plan. John, being the perfect cameraman, continued to catch moments shared between the couple throughout the rest of the night. Lando’s hand interlocked with hers on the table, his kiss to her over the gift she got him, the way his hands securely held her hips on the side of the road while they waited for their car, the way he hugged her and whispered in her ear how happy he was to have her there with him, and everything in between.
Sweet, gentle instances that showed everyone just how in love the two were. Lando’s soft eyes resting on hers when she came into view was something that every fan couldn’t let go of the week later when it was posted. Everyone fawned over the two like they were destined to be together, fated in the stars.
Because they were and they always would be.
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norris55s · 7 months
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finish line - max verstappen
red bull engineer reader x max verstappen social media au
a/n: this was requested (if anyone else has requests lmk!!) and i couldn’t help but test the max verstappen rizz. while searching for inspiration on pinterest i found the face claim, sarah fasey, a true part of the red bull team (but in social media) 💙
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redbullracing
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redbullracing: Introducing Max’s new race engineer, Y/N L/N. She is a Cambridge University graduate, a prodigy, long-time Red Bull Motorsports collaborator and a big fan of coffee. She will be joining Max’s team radios from the 2023 season onwards, and we are looking forward to the great things we will achieve together as a team!
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y/nusername
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y/nusername: Y/N just started a new position as Race Engineer at Red Bull Racing. Congratule her on LinkedIn.
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maxverstappenteam
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maxverstappenteam: It hasn’t even been five races and Max and Y/N are already the best duo to ever come of Formula 1.
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maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1: Wonderful effort from all the team to take us to this win! 💪🏼🏆 Let’s keep pushing. Special thank you to y/nusername, for all the right calls today! We are so lucky to have you this season.
y/nusername: Anytime, champ.
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y/nusername
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y/nuserame: So far, we are winning.
maxverstappen1: We should probably stay winning.
y/nusername: You just listen to me and we got it, champ.
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formula1world
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formula1world: We want something like what Max and Y/N have. Best engineer/driver pairing ever.
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thepaddockgossip
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thepaddockgossip: Voices at the paddock say Max Verstappen and his race engineer, Y/N L/N, have been getting closer. If their team radios are any indication, the banter flirting could be more than just a joke. All we have to say is… when have you heard Max apologize for yelling? What do you think?
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y/nusername
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y/nusername: Still winning.
maxverstappen1: Was the child picture necessary?
y/nusername: Of course it is, champ.
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f1
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f1: Name a more iconic first date, I’ll wait. 🎊🏆❤️‍🔥
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y/nusername
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y/nusername: Came here to win, left with that plus a date with the champ.
maxverstappen1: Is coffee too cliché?
y/nusername: I’ve always liked coffee.
maxverstappen1: How does coffee with the champ in Paris sound?
2K notes · View notes