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saerins · 9 months

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⋆୨ chapter three ୧˚ for a while, you were all mine

⋆୨ if not for you (masterlist) ⋆୨ previous: chapter two - a million miles away, still you connect me in your way <> next: chapter four - behind a box of reasons why ୧˚

⋆୨ synopsis ୧˚ neither of you want this. both you and sae reluctantly agree to this marriage, although sae’s dissatisfaction far outweighs your own. with hidden agendas and old flames, will this ever work out between the two of you, or will your forced spark be doomed to fail?

ೀ series: sae x f!reader | wc 6.3k | ೀ content warnings: fluff/angst, modern au, arranged marriage, rich!sae and rich!reader, jealousy/paranoia, third parties, yn and sae finally sharing one bed | notes: eeep this was long i’m sorry !! more of the other girl here heh ^_< also mwah thank you to all of you who’s reading ily !! <3

In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t right of you to go through your husband’s stuff. Maybe you should’ve just looked at that little black box and left it there and continue to be ignorant.

But no. In this world, you’re nosy and greedy and you wanted to know who exactly it is that Itoshi Sae of all people can’t get over and now you have exactly what you were looking for.

After extensive research—and by research you mean scrolling through your husband’s social media (all of them), you managed to find her tagged in a post buried way below on his Facebook wall. Silver lining is: there’s nothing recent. The bad part? Judging by the date, they’ve known each other for a long time.

Apparently her name is Mirin, and her family’s made up of a whole slew of top lawyers in the whole of Japan. There’s not a lot on her Facebook, but her Instagram is a whole other story. Her posts the last few years put her somewhere in Europe, and judging by the content, she’s been studying there for a while. But before that, back when the posts were all in Japan, you catch a few photos of Sae. Some of them have Oliver and Eita, and a couple of other guys you haven’t met before.

It’s really wrong of you to do this, only because you know you’re just setting yourself up for a world of paranoia, but you can’t stop. You move over to the pictures she’s tagged in, and there’s one from Oliver that catches your attention.

Because it’s dated a few weeks back.

The first of two photos show Oliver, Eita, Sae and the same guy you saw back in Mirin’s feed—the one with jet black spiky hair. They’re in a bar, you presume, sitting around a private booth with a ton of alcohol in the ice bucket on the table. You recognise his attire; it’s from the very first night Sae bothered to sit down at the dining table and eat with you.

The second makes your heart crash to the floor. In the photo, in Sae’s place is Mirin herself, looking drop-dead gorgeous in a skin-tight red dress that you wouldn’t ever think of wearing. (One, because it’s much too revealing for your own taste, and two, well, just because you’re more of an oversized t-shirt kind of girl.)

All you can take away from what you saw is that Mirin is now back in Japan. Coupled with the fact that Sae had been gone even though he was off from work for those first few days of your marriage, you deduce what you wish isn’t true—was he meeting up with her all this time? Even

Trying to avoid falling into utter madness, you grab your phone and text your ever-trusty best friend.

Reo, meet you at our usual. ASAP!!!

Just as you’re about to leave the house, Sae gets back from wherever he’s been (which now you can’t help but wonder whether he was meeting Mirin), and you run right into his chest.

“Careful, busy?” Sae asks, which is more than Sae usually does and you realise just how low the bar is set right now.

Still, you answer him like you always do. “Yeah I’m gonna meet Reo for a bit,” you tell him, biting back a snarky comment about Mirin.

Even with those doubts of Sae in your head, you can’t help but stop to appreciate how he hands you your keys from the key hanger before you forget, or how his other hand is gripping onto yours, warm and just slightly calloused. It’s the first time you’ve felt them since that day at your own wedding.

“Take your time, I’ll handle our dinner tonight,” he tells you, and you think that’s already a lot considering that he’s never really bothered with anything the past few weeks, but then you feel a soft sensation against your forehead—very brief, so unfamiliar, way too soft—and then it’s gone in just a second and it’s way too quick that it has you doubting its existence at all.

All you hear is a soft “see you” before the door shuts behind you, and then there’s only the erratic beating of your heart that fills your ears.

“Yikes.”

“Very helpful, thanks,” you sigh exasperatedly as you plop down onto the cushioned seat across from Reo.

Reo laughs, handing you your phone back, open to Oliver’s Instagram account. “Then ask for a divorce, I’m sure he’d happily oblige if all of that’s true.”

“You know why I can’t, Reo,” you remind him, close to giving up.

Reo nods, remembering about your parents and deciding not to make matters worse. “Did you ask him about it though?”

You frown, glaring up at your best friend who’s now happily sipping on his cold brew. “And let him guess that I was stalking his ex? Sure I did.”

Reo snorts at your sarcasm. He thinks it’s funny how you’re oddly meek in front of Sae, and yet you’re snappish around him. Comes with the many years of being best friends, he supposes. But on that note, “you think there’s something going on between them?”

For the first time, Reo sees you helpless, eyes staring into nothing, index finger idly tracing circles on the polished wooden surface. “I don’t know,” because all you know is that you’re already exhausted from overthinking all the things they could be doing behind your back. “But… he’s always away and he says it’s work when I know it’s not. And she’s back and they were at the same place and urgh, I don’t know what to do.”

By that last line, you’re already burying your head in your hands, slumped against the table, Reo watching on as you grumble in frustration. He chuckles, gently patting your head before you look up at him, “what if they’re just friends right now?”

“It’s still weird, isn’t it? I mean… from the looks of it, they were pretty serious at one point.” Your words are all muffled because you’re pretty sure this is you being jealous now—thanks to Sae considerably warming up to you (be it at his own sluggish pace), it’s hard not to feel anything for him. In a way, you’re learning to like a lot about him, but there’s this unshakeable doubt you can’t brush off in the form of his ex.

Reo leans back against his chair now, pondering out loud. “Hmm I wonder what that reminds me of.”

In a second, you know all too well what he’s referring to, and you find yourself unable to look him in the eye. “That’s… different. We didn’t act on it.”

He rests his elbow on the table, head resting against his fist, “yeah but… we were still each other’s first kiss, right?”

“But we didn’t amount to anything.”

“Except that we’re best friends now,” Reo tells you, and you know he’s trying to get a point across but you’re not sure you want to understand it.

“And that’s all we ever were, Reo.”

Smiling, Reo leans forward a little, cautious at keeping his voice down. It won’t do if people misunderstand and word gets around. “Listen, I don’t know about you, but you were all I wanted at one point. For more than just that one day under the cherry blossoms, more than that one time I stole your first kiss.”

It stuns you a little to hear it, because any romantic emotions between the two of you were never said or shared. Both you and Reo knew back then that your parents wouldn’t ever be in favour of him and his rebelliousness that you both just decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. At that time, when you were both foolish kids, having that something intangible was enough. Maybe it faded for you faster than it had for Reo, but he knew that it once existed. Even if only for a second.

“And?”

You’ve gone soft now, and Reo knows you understand. You’re just in denial.

“Are you sure Sae would feel the same if he knew about it? If he knew I used to love you too?” Reo asks you, genuinely wondering for himself.

You’re about to argue that Sae doesn’t even care, but putting yourself into his shoes, you get where Reo’s coming from. History is history. No matter how long ago it was or how short the relationship (or lack of one) was, the feelings still existed, once upon a time.

Still, you have a feeling that there’s more than meets the eye. Especially if Sae has to hide it all the time. He’s never even said her name to you, if they met at all.

“Anyway look, do you want me to try asking Oliver about it? I’ll be discreet, though I can’t really say the same for that knucklehead,” Reo warns you. It’s not like he knows Oliver much outside of any business dealings, but he can tell that much at least.

You shake your head anyway, knowing it’s a bad idea. For all you know, Sae would just lash out at you for prying into his business when you’re just his on-paper wife.

“Wonder why they broke up though,” you think out loud, watching the liquid in your cup swish around, close to spilling off the edge as you swirl it with your hand, almost completely lost in thought.

Reo answers you without missing a beat. “She went abroad to study and just called it off thinking it wouldn’t work.” His eyes go wide the moment your head shoots up, and he winces after letting it slip.

“You knew?”

“Yeah…”

“What the- how?” Because it’s incredulous how Reo happens to know that much more about the relationship.

He sighs, fessing up. “I was asking around about Sae remember? When I told you he’s just a tough nut to—”

“Yeah yeah,” you wave it off, wanting him to get to the point.

“Well, Oliver’s kinda a blabbermouth so…” Reo sighs, as if he senses there’s no point in keeping it in, not when you’re already halfway into that rabbit hole yourself.

And you’re all ears. Half because you really just want to learn more about it and the other half just wanting confirmation that you’re not crazy for overthinking about this. But then Reo tells you and you’re not sure anymore.

“He said Sae was never over her, loved her to bits.” Reo pauses, hesitating before he opens his mouth again. “He said Sae was waiting for her to get back before starting things up again.”

Oh.

SEVEN YEARS AGO.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

Surely it wasn’t a stretch to be furious that distance would be enough of a reason for a breakup? Surely Sae didn’t have to think himself crazy for refuting such an idea?

Mirin’s hair flowed in the wind, pretty as it always was, and it would be even prettier in his memories. She looked unsure, and he knew it too. He knew her like the back of his hand, down to the injury on his ankle. She was only doing what she thought was right, and that was offering each of their own freedom, though Sae had no single doubt in his mind that that wasn’t what he wanted.

“Sae, please don’t make this harder than it already is,” she told him, her eyes swimming with tears that she wouldn’t allow to overflow.

Always so stubborn, and forever thinking less of herself. That was how he knew her to be. And as much as he hated that stubbornness at that moment, he loved her just as much.

With a hand reaching out to her, he pulled her to him, letting her rest her head in his chest, something that he savoured because it wouldn’t be long until she’ll be gone for who knows how long.

“Is it selfish of me to say I don’t want to break up with you?” Sae was asking her, genuinely. He didn’t know how to handle this—when life held different paths for two people in love, wasn’t it just common sense that they could still tread it and yet be together? Was long distance really the end of everything they had?

Mirin sniffled just a little before she pulled away and forced herself to smile, something that Sae hated. It was always the fake ones that irked him, even now.

“Is it selfish for me to think that we’re supposed to?”

Maybe he didn’t know the answer. But all he knew was that if she still felt like they should, then he’d concede. He was always weak when it came to her. It was always the same. He couldn’t imagine being weak to anyone else. It was her. Only her.

“Fine, we’ll do that, if that’s what you want,” he told her, a tone so gentle that no one but her has ever heard. But he drew close, tipping her chin up so she would look at him, his teal eyes appreciating every inch of her beautiful face, the most beautiful one he had ever seen, and the most beautiful one he thought he would ever see. “But you know something?”

Mirin swallowed the lump in her throat, the amount of love she felt threatening to swallow her whole. “What?”

Sae let out a deep chuckle, a soft one before he pressed his lips against hers, a promise laid between their lips like it was a secret only they both would keep.

“Nothing would stop me from waiting for you to come back. So come back to me, okay? Come back, I’ll wait for you.”

That night when you get home, you feel just slightly numb. After hearing what you did, it’s no surprise. You’ve always been kind of weak when it comes to feelings. You’re more heart over mind and you’d choose your heart over and over again even if you had no more blood left to bleed.

You think you’re never getting over it until you walk in and realise that Sae’s in the kitchen, setting your dinner down on the table. It’s like your tears automatically dissipate once you look into his eyes.

“Oh, just nice,” is all he mumbles before he sits down at his place on the entirely too-big dining table for the two of you.

Across from him, you sit down as you look at the spread before you. A steak on each of your plates, potato puree at the side. In the middle there’s assorted sides of mushrooms, corn kernels and what you assume to be a tray of sauces for the meat.

“Did you cook all of these?” You ask, almost breathless. You’re about to say he’s a much better cook than you are, until Sae speaks up.

“No.” He seems nearly unwilling to answer you, a delicate frown on his face. “Accidentally burnt the pans when I tried to cook.”

“Huh?” You spin your head around to find the sink filled with all your pans, and from the looks of it, Sae had been trying to scrub the burnt portions off unsuccessfully.

“We need to buy new pans.”

Sae says this all too monotonously, like he’s half-robot and half completely embarrassed, that you can’t help but laugh out loud. Besides, it’s kind of cute that there’s a faint pink on his cheeks. You’ve never seen that before.

He looks at you incredulously, like he wasn’t expecting you to laugh at him like he’s a damn clown. Flinging a mushroom at you with his fork, he rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he groans.

Pouting at him mockingly, you decide to tease him a little more. “You didn’t touch anything else in the house and ruin them, did you?”

And you were joking, until you realise Sae’s averting his gaze, stuffing his mouth full with corn kernels.

“Sae!”

“We might need to get new stuff for the laundry room too,” he confesses, talking with his mouth full. (Spoiler: you find out later that he put the wrong detergents in the washer and accidentally flooded the laundry room.)

Still, you think it’s sort of endearing that he tried to do the chores while you were the one out for a change, so you stop yourself from making fun of him too much. It’s not like whatever you learned earlier isn’t still sitting in the back of your head (because a part of you wonders if he’s doing all this out of guilt), but some part of you wants to be selfish and let yourself feel special, even if it’s delusional, at least for a little bit.

You want to feel like the wife he misses when you’re not around, like the person he would think of when his mind strays. Is this all too much to ask?

Maybe you just can’t help yourself, so you bring yourself to ask: “Sae, why did you agree to this?”

There’s a pregnant pause in the room, the only sounds filling the silence being the stainless steel cutlery hitting the plates as Sae adjusts himself. “Why did you?”

You suppose that maybe it’ll be easier for him to share if you start first, so you bite the bait. “Long story but… if I don’t then it’ll fall to my sister and she’s happy with someone else.” You swallow the meat in your mouth, the fat rendered so well it makes you crave for more. “I don’t want her to have to sacrifice that. Our parents aren’t exactly the nicest people in the world.”

Sae listens to you, an understanding settling in his chest. He could laugh from the coincidence of it all. “Same, but for my brother,” he tells you, prodding at his steak. “And he’s happy with soccer, not some girl. Can’t get a girl to save his life.”

Somehow, you can hear the quiet fondness that he has for Rin that makes you believe he’s a good brother.

“Would a marriage affect his career all that much?”

There’s a certain complexity behind Sae’s expression when you ask that question, something that you can’t decipher. But he scoffs, “let’s just say, my parents aren’t the nicest people either. I would know.”

And something tells you that it’s not something you want to ask yet, so you let his answer sit with you.

“Oh, speaking of parents,” Sae brings up his phone, switching the subject and handing it over to you. It’s a string of texts between him and his mother, apparently. You hold it up to your face, reading through and it appears they’d gotten you both tickets. “Mine got us both tickets, so.”

As you scroll, a grin appears on your face as you look at him. “Honeymoon tickets to Korea?” You’re almost squealing. It’s been a long while since you’ve last had a vacation, and ten days of distraction sounds really nice after all the information you’d just learned today.

Sae rolls his eyes, though you don’t miss the slight tug upwards at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, so get packing, we leave in two days.”

And as excited as you are, you feel a vibration and the brief flash of ‘dummy’ messaging him, the only part of the preview that you can see being: no, take me with you :(

You’re pretty sure it vibrates some more but by then, you’re already handing the phone back and Sae just locks his phone without bothering. Shaking your head, you try to stuff that image back to the deepest crevices of your mind, determined to not let it ruin your mood for your getaway.

Ex lover or not, Sae is still your husband and it’s not like he hates this (by the looks of things, it’s only been getting better and better), so you’re still hell bent on making things work.

Two days fly by way too quickly.

The day after Sae tells you about the trip, you immediately get to work at packing. Ten days is not a short trip and you plan to make full use of it, and for that, you have to be ready.

You had spent the whole day buying anything you would need—travel-friendly items and whatnot—while commuting back home to your parents’ house (at a timing you know they’re at work, of course!) to take anything you might’ve left there that you needed. Just as you left the house, nostalgia took over as you looked around at the place where you grew up.

It’s strange. People say to cherish what time you have with your parents, that one day you’re going to move out and you’re going to miss it.

You don’t feel like that’s necessarily true, because you’re living proof. The only thing you’d miss is your sister and you still talk to her everyday. Meanwhile, the only times your mother or father ever talks to you is to ask you about your marriage and warning you not to annoy Sae too much, as though it was a given and that it shouldn’t be the other way around.

Maybe it doesn’t make much sense; you and Sae (or maybe just you) trying to be a family when you both have no idea what a proper family is like. Even if it is just on paper.

Now you’re on a town car to the airport and you’re fiddling with your passport in your hands, staring out the window like a little child that’s going overseas for the first time. (Next to you, Sae’s thinking the exact same thing—you do look so much like an excited child. Or maybe a puppy.)

Of course, Sae’s parents waste no expenses in gifting you two first-class seats. Not that you’ve never been in first class, but it’s nice to be next to Sae, and you catch yourself, realising just how quickly you’re catching feelings.

“What?” Sae’s just getting ready to turn his phone to flight-safe mode when he catches you staring, a hint of smugness forming inside of him.

Even with a small partition separating your seats, you can see his teal eyes staring at you, long lashes fluttering in all its glory. Instead of offering an answer, you just shake your head and lean back, busying yourself by adjusting the screen in front of you.

Being in a state of denial is easy; it’s actually fun to sit in first class next to Sae, on a three-hour flight to your honeymoon, annoying him each chance you get, earning yourself a death stare every instant before laughing yourself silly when he flips off at you. It’s been a few weeks, but you think you’ve grown accustomed to what Sae is like that you know his middle fingers to you are never meant to be taken seriously and his silence is just how he is when he isn’t fully opened up. It nearly makes you think you’re crazy for doubting him and yet you don’t have the balls to question him about any of that. Not yet, because you’re not ready for this to end (if it will).

The itinerary had already been planned out by Sae’s mother, but it wasn’t like either of you wanted to follow it. One, Sae likes to do things spontaneously anyway and two, well, you have a feeling that he might want to treat this like a solo trip. It’s not like either of you have properly been husband and wife much to have a proper honeymoon together.

So count you surprised when you suggested that you both try to do solo trips around the city and just meet up for dinner, only to have Sae agree and yet follow you wherever you decide to go that first day.

At first, you were just wondering whether he had the same plans, but after he followed you into a Sephora looking absolutely clueless and then getting all flustered and sticking to you the moment the staff there asked him if he wanted to do a skin test, you allow yourself to think that he’s actually tagging along with you.

“What are you doing?” You decide to ask after exiting another store, carrying no less than five bags thanks to your anxiety of asking Sae what he’s up to.

On his part, he merely shrugs and looks away, hands in his coat pocket, looking absolutely like a model out of a magazine. Sometimes you wonder if he’s really yours. On paper, at least.

“This is our honeymoon, right? Makes sense that we’re together.” That’s all the explanation Sae offers, his gaze hovering over the bags you’re carrying, before he leans closer. “Besides, you’re my wife,” he says, gently grabbing your bags and carrying it for you.

He doesn’t say that it’s just on paper this time. And you can’t help but read into it. It’s perplexing how easily his words can affect you. It has your heart doing somersaults and your lips nervously pursing together.

“So, where next?” He prompts, looking at you expectantly.

And maybe you’re a little too excited for this pleasant turn of events that you’re grinning from ear to ear as you stare at him. “Wait, really?”

You can’t even hide the glee in your voice and Sae, for the first time, smiles—even if he’s doing it as he rolls his eyes at you.

“Yes, stupid,” he tells you, chuckling as you hop slightly in excited. “Are we going or are you just gonna stand here like a little puppy?”

With excited nods and a little squeal, you clap your hands together before daring to put your fingers around his wrist, dragging him with you.

Sae follows quietly behind you, staring at you as you happily tread ahead, your hands warm and guarding his against the slightly chilly air, hair flowing in the wind and he suddenly thinks you’re even prettier than he first thought you were. And then he starts thinking that maybe this part of his life that’s planned by his parents isn’t so bad after all.

Though, when you get back to the hotel, you find out that Sae has already specially asked for two separate beds, to the surprise of all the hotel staff, because of course, Mrs Itoshi had booked the honeymoon suite for the both of you. Special requests for that room usually mean flowers on the bed, or breakfast just the way they like it—not for the groom of all people to be asking for a separate bed altogether, especially when he insists there is no additional person.

“I’ll sleep out here,” Sae tells you the moment you get back to the hotel that night, gesturing to the bed set up by the television, much to your bummer. But you suppose you can’t expect too much—hand holding was already a miracle in itself.

“Oh yeah, sure,” you shrug it off, like it doesn’t even matter. Deep down you feel like a rock was dropped from your throat to the bottom of your stomach, forming a gaping hole in your heart along the way that you tried to will into non-existence.

Still, somehow, despite this little obstacle, you find yourself optimistic after being witness to Sae’s change in demeanour.

“Hey, Y/N?”

When you turn around, you see a hint of hesitation flicker across his teal eyes before he shakes his head, brushing it off.

“It’s nothing, goodnight.”

Although you’re curious, you decide not to press him about it. Offering a small smile, you nod.

“Goodnight, Sae.”

Over the course of your entire honeymoon, you find that you shouldn’t be chiding yourself for being delusional in the first place.

For once in this one-sided love affair, you feel like perhaps it’s not so one-sided at all. Because from what you’ve learned about Sae in your close-to-minimal time together, he isn’t someone that you can force into doing anything he doesn’t want to. At least when it comes to mundane activities which includes trips. (Unless you’re his parents who you have no doubt in your mind probably mirrors your own and have their ways of controlling him, per se.)

But it’s hard to think he doesn’t want to do any of this with you when he’s so compliant. He follows your bucket list of things to do and doesn’t complain once. He lets you drag him to the palace and looks only slightly concerned when you tell him you want to “do the thing where we can dress up like royalty and take pictures” but he only sighs and concedes within seconds.

When he comes out of the room looking like the most handsome prince you’d ever met, you’re too shy to meet his gaze but he tilts your head up to look at him for most of the shots anyway. With his face so close to yours, with these kinds of small gestures which he willingly initiates, you begin to wonder if it’s possible to make him happy in this possibly loveless marriage.

Spending ten days together, surrounded by just each other and doing things that couples do; it nearly makes you feel as if this is real. Like Sae really loves you and that he had asked you to marry him one day out of the blue because of it. Nothing like how you felt that first time you met him, in your dressing room minutes before you were about to become husband and wife, being talked down to and told that this was a facade and could be nothing more.

Now he’s here with you, sticking close and following you around, entertaining your requests for activities, falling asleep on your shoulder when you were on the plane to Jeju, and sometimes he absentmindedly holds your hand like he’s used to it. He helps you with your luggage always, and he makes sure you get food whenever your stomach starts growling, and he’s more observant than you give him credit for because he starts picking the radish off your plate without you asking.

Your album’s suddenly filled with pictures of you and Sae and you were hesitant at first but dragging him to the amusement park when he wasn’t for it at first was a good decision; for a while, you get to see what he’s like when all the downturned lines on his face reverse, when he looks the most like an actual guy in his mid-twenties, enjoying life instead of brooding all the time. Thanks to that, your pictures are more both of you smiling or being goofy together instead of faceless pictures because neither of you feel like showing your faces at all.

By the time your honeymoon is about to come to an end, you find that maybe there’s hope for this after all. That maybe you’d just been overthinking everything prior to this and it shouldn’t be worth worrying over after the trip ends.

But you find that hope can be flimsy sometimes.

On the seventh night there, you and Sae are both on your bed, in the actual bedroom, fighting (not literally) over a multiplayer game. Just two adults hunched over one phone playing frustrating games meant for kids. (Somehow it makes you feel like perhaps neither of you ever had a normal childhood and this is something to make up for it.) It’s all fun and games until you see a throng of message notifications from dummy mixed in with several from what you presume to be Sae’s group chat with the guys.

And you can keep pretending like it doesn’t matter, except Sae immediately stops after the current round and tells you he has to take a call. And you already know more or less who he’s going to talk to. And just like that, you feel like you’re back to square one all over again.

The subsequent nights (and days) aren’t easy for you either. After just giving up on thinking and forcing yourself to sleep that night, you’d been stuck with paranoia everyday. Especially when you realise that he’s starting to take calls every night outside on the balcony where he’s sure you’re out of earshot.

You wonder if he’s being lovey dovey with her outside when he talks to her. You wonder if he imagines you as her when you’re out together. You wonder if he wishes you were her. You wonder if all this is just a gimmick; a test run for when he does the actual things with the actual girl he wants to do them with.

Safe to say, by your last night there, you’re a mess. The moment you get back from trying to be happy all day (which was a disaster because you wouldn’t stop trying to minimise contact with Sae), you tell him you’re too tired and that you’ll just go ahead and go to bed.

Which, of course, is code for ‘you just want to lie in bed and cry all night’.

Sae couldn’t even get a word out before you shut the door on him, plopping down onto the bed and crying into your pillow. Maybe holding everything in was a bad idea. Now you’re bursting with emotions and you try to call Reo a few minutes later but you can’t even get him because he’s busy somehow and you’re positive that the gods hate you right now.

There is one thing about being on rock bottom that you like, though; at least you know how you feel. You’re exhausted and upset and envious because you wish you could be that person for your husband. But you keep getting reminded that you’re not. That somehow you’re just a mere stand-in until he marries his real wife next time. The one he promised to love forever. (Technically, he vowed that to you on your wedding day too, but that’s not the same and you know it.)

Deciding to shut off your phone and have this time to yourself to cry your eyes out, you miss the sudden swarm of notifications that come in. And thanks to you stuffing your head into the pillow, you don’t notice Sae opening the door and peeking inside, an unfamiliar feeling settling inside him at the sound of you sobbing.

He gently closes the door behind him as he walks to you, your back turned to him, your hands and feet hanging onto the bolster like a koala to a branch. Slowly, he saunters over to you, almost like he’s afraid to. When his hand rests on your shoulder and he sinks into the mattress beside you, you stiffen up for just a moment before spinning around and sobbing into his chest instead.

You didn’t expect him to even enter your room at all, much less let you stain his shirt or hold you close when you’re being emotional like this, but he stays there, hand gently rubbing your arm, up and down, a gentle kiss placed on the top of your head. It makes you wonder what kind of games he’s playing. Is this Sae not being able to make up his mind and that’s why he’s still so nice to you even when he has his old flame in the back of his head?

“Do you… want me to leave you alone?” He asks, though you can argue it’s kind of a stupid question but then you realise he probably doesn’t know much about actual relationships so you let it slide.

You shake your head in response, deciding that as stupid as it all sounds, you want to throw your hat in the ring. You’ve fallen for him, and you want him for yourself.

And maybe it’s wrong of you to project this on him, but your absence of a normal family where a home is not just a house and where parents shower their children with actual love and concern makes you yearn for one yourself. And maybe it’s not a great idea to want that from a man you married from being forced to, but thanks to this honeymoon you can see that there’s a flicker of spark there.

That Sae’s not emotionless and he’s definitely not cold to you. Not anymore. That if you guys had been given more time instead of being rushed into things by your parents then maybe the whole wedding could’ve gone without any of the hitches you experienced. That every single radish he picked off your plate, every picture he took with you, every time he held your hand, every time he pulled you close—none of that was manufactured, was it?

So isn’t it possible for you to be happy with him? So is it still foolish or selfish of you to want to be with him?

Is it too much if you ask him about it?

“Hey, Sae?” Your voice is soft and timid and more vulnerable than you’ve ever shown, but he hears you loud and clear, his “hm?” resounding against his chest, right next to your ear. “Can you stay?”

A few seconds of pause, and he replies, “of course.”

You shake your head slightly. “I don’t mean that. I mean, you know, what we said on our wedding day.” Your voice is entirely muffled, still Sae understands.

There’s an even longer pause this time, and you think that Sae’s just thinking of a way to get out of this until you hear him speak up again.

“Idiot,” he chides, but you can hear the soft affection in his voice. Suddenly, you feel his pinky wrapping around your own, and he holds it near your face. “I promise you,” he whispers, and you wish you could see the expression on his face, “I’ll stay.”

It might be wishful thinking but you think he really means it.

taglist: @kimvmarvel @mxplesyrvp @yuzurins @futuristicxie @kiopanxp @k0z3me @y-sabell-a @sae1toshilover @xoxojisu @karmatiz @sagejin @minnieminnie00-got7 @hearts4heidi @shiinobu-x @n1uh @prepchuu @leeyzhuo @shidouryusm @tsukishiro-yue2402 @kaiserkisser @pookiebearcave @dcvilxswish @saeskiss @whtflrr @arminseas @raphsimp @saharei @danibxe @lectris00 @comet-kun @ishitam67 @gskill @sweet2wthsblog *bolded: can’t tag you due to your settings >_<

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #sae x you #itoshi sae x you #sae x y/n #itoshi sae x y/n #itoshi sae #blue lock #૪ aeri’s fics !

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nwjws · 11 months

Text

while you were sleeping - pjs

; PAIRING - jay x gn!reader

; SYNOPSIS - in which you’ve had the same album on repeat, unable to get it out of your mind. just like how jay, your roommate, can’t seem to get you out of his.

; WC - 1.4k (minus the lyrics)

; TAGS - college roommates au, fluff, from jay's pov, based off laufey's 'while you were sleeping' ; WARNINGS - not proofread

i still can't believe that you noticed me

mindlessly scrolling on your phone, you patiently wait for your roommate, park jay, to finish cooking up some breakfast. a comfortable silence has settled between you two, with the only sounds being the sizzling oil on the pan and your humming.

"you've been listening to the same 14 songs for the past week."

"what?" you ask, looking up at him. you stare at his back, broad shoulders exposed by his tank top.

he turns his head to look back at you over his shoulder, raising a perfect eyebrow. you realise then what he's saying.

laufey had released a new album last week, and you literally haven't played any other song outside of it since it dropped. you can feel jay judging you, but you just shrug at him. you were definitely not stopping.

"so what if i've had bewitched on repeat? can you deny that they're good?" you challenged him.

"no, of course not," he chuckled to himself, turning back to the pan. "i'm just surprised you haven't gotten sick of it yet."

"i would never get sick of laufey," you say with mock offence.

"alright, then," he said with a teasing undertone.

you wanted to retort, but he placed a plate in front of you, making you forget what you were going to say.

"hey, you have a later clinical today, right?" he asked as you two dug in.

"mhm."

"take the box i left in the fridge with you before you go then. its some extra lunch i made so you'd have enough energy to get through the day."

"thank you," you say appreciatively. "you really don't have to do that every time i have a heavier day."

"well, if i have time to, then i don't see why i shouldn't."

"what about you? what are you doing today?"

"my professor cancelled class today, so i'll go check out if i can bother heeseung or jake."

"i'll pray for whichever victim you choose, then," you joke.

"maybe i won't make you extra lunch next time," he pouted playfully.

"no, no. those actually really help me. god knows if i didn't score you as my roommate, i would have passed out several times by now."

"grateful to be of service"

after breakfast, jay lounges around the apartment as you're getting ready. some show plays on the tv, but it doesn't drown out the sound of must be love playing from your speakers.

you shout your leaving when you exit the shared apartment, and jay wishes you a good day. he watches you close the door, leaving him completely alone.

i'll never forget the first time i saw you then

when he drives to the shopping centre with jake later that day, he pauses mid-sentence when he realises something.

"is everything good?" his friend asks.

"yeah, i just recognised the song playing."

"really? you listen to from the start by laufey?" jake asks. he had decided to connect his phone to jay's carplay, and had been in the one in control of the playlist.

"not really, but my roommate does."

"y/n? that's pretty cool. they've got good music taste," he replies.

"they've had her newest album on repeat since she dropped it," jay laughs, eyes on the road.

"do you find that annoying?"

"of course not, it's funny seeing them prance around the apartment, belting their heart out," he laughs at a memory of you singing at the top of your lungs. "i guess i'm more of a second-hand listener now? if that's even a thing."

"probably," jake shrugs.

a light pink bouquet, a promise you'll stay and i start to believe

the two had decided to eat out at wagamama's first, before anything else.

"i think i'll get the pad thai," tells the waitor, who nods and notes it on his ipad.

"hm, i'm feeling like trying the grilled chicken ramen," jay says. "oh, could i also get the miso mixed vegetable salad to-go?"

"sure," the waitor replies. he pockets the small device in his apron, and leaves for the kitchen.

"you ordered another meal?" the younger asks curiously.

"me and y/n go here often. of course, i had to get them something. usually, they'll go for the typical miso salad, or some curry, but they've decided they wanted to try being vegan recently. so i got the vegan one," jay explains nonchalantly.

"wow, you really care a lot about them, huh?"

"of course, we're sharing the rent, after all. have to be a good roommate, otherwise they'll leave and i'll have to pay the bills on my own."

"maybe i should get a roommate," jake chuckles. "but i don't think i'd be able to get someone like you."

"i'd feel sorry for whoever ends up with you," jay teases him. "and anyway, they're a good roommate. they do the laundry for the both of us, and we usually spend the weekends cleaning together."

"you guys are so lucky," is all jake says.

i don't recognise myself ; who've i become?

jake dragged jay into their third clothing shop that day, despite jay's protests. in self-defence, jake whines about needing some new shoes.

"don't you have like, thirty pairs? what could you possibly need another one for?"

"actually, i only have twenty-eight. and i need one for graduation, of course."

"right, because none of your almost-thirty pairs suffice," jay rolls his eyes.

"don't act like you dont have seventy pairs of the same polo shirt."

"i don't!"

"i've seen your closet, don't lie to me."

jay sighs and leaves jake to wander around the shop on his own.

"there you go again, buying another shirt," jake's voice sighs from behind jay fifteen minutes later.

"not for me," jay shakes his head. he turns to show the clothing piece to his friend. "for y/n. this is definitely their style, and it'll fit them so well. they have a pair of shoes that are this exact colour, so it would be good outfit if they sandwhich it with any bottom piece they choose."

"you think a lot about your roommate," jake raises his eyebrow at him.

"i see them all the time, why wouldn't i?" jay asks.

"no, like, you think too much about y/n considering you're 'only roommates'," he says with a quote gesture.

"stop suggesting weird things," jay walks ahead to the counter, leaving jake to follow behind.

"is it really so weird, though? if you like y/n like that?"

jay just ignores him, and pays for the shirt. it's not, he thinks to himself, because it's not a new thought either.

i trace it all back, 3:30 am that night something turned in my heart

"thank you, jay," you hug him when he shows you what he got. "you really need to stop buying me things."

"i can't help it," he smiles. "when i see something that reminds me of you, i just feel like i have to get it."

"with how often you buy me things, i'd say a lot of things remind you of me, huh?"

"seems like it..." he scratches his nape, awkwardly avoiding eye contact with you. thanks jake, he scowls in his mind. now he can't stop thinking about what he said earlier.

you and jay decide to watch a movie the next night, since it was a friday, and neither of you had to be up early the next day.

but jay couldn't focus on the tv when you two were basically cuddling under the shared blanket on the sofa. his skin prickled where his arm hung around your shoulder, and the weight of your head on his made him feel light and airy.

the warmth of your body seeped through your clothes, and brought him immense comfort. your sweet scent filled his nose, subconsciously recognising it to be one of the perfumes he'd bought you.

it was only when the movie ended he realised he hadn't been watching at all. and neither were you, if your light snores were any indication.

he huffed amusedly to himself, and shifted on the sofa to get you two in a more comfortable position, actually lying down. reaching for the remote, he carefully switched off the tv, leaving the only source of light to be a soft, warm yellow coming from a corner lamp.

jay stared at your features, illuminated by the dim light. he realised right then, in the comfort of your arms, far into the night, what he felt for you.

while you were sleeping, i fell in love.

; AUTHOR'S CORNER! do u guys ever feel like throwing up at your own work? ALSO THANK YOU FOR 200 this is my offer of thanks 🤭

; TAGLIST - @lovelovelovebts @miyseung @babyy-bambii

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luvfy0dor · 10 months

Text

“Made Your Mark on Me, a Golden Tattoo ♡ ” Chuuya Nakahara x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; perchance ooc, profanity once

Description; Coloring in Chuuyas tattoos!

A/n; My friend and I were talking about cute romance scenarios today and she brought this up, so I wanted to write about it with Chuuyas because I think he would have tattoos. If someone has done this please tell me, I know I've seen a handful of fics with scenarios like this, but I can't remember any were in the BSD fandom or not.

ೃ⁀➷

Chuuya has a handful of tattoos, they're all really intricate and professionally done, but none of them are colored. That gives you the perfect opportunity to add your own creative twist on the art pieces. After rummaging through yours and Chuuya's shared home, not a single non-permanent marker could be found. You sighed, but ventured out to retrieve some.

After a long and treacherous journey to the store and back, you tossed the box of markers onto the counter. You couldn't help but feel giddy waiting for your husband to come back home so you could pitch the idea to him. A part of you thought he might say no, but you suppressed that with all your might and looked forward to his return with hope. You waited on the couch, scrolling through your phone. He shouldn't take too long, but every minute felt like ten to you in this moment.

Before you knew it, you heard the rustle of keys and the clicks of the locks. You jumped up from your spot on the couch, staring at Chuuya as he shuffles into the house and out of the relatively chilly and rainy weather. He lets out a sigh of relief before turning to you with a small smile. "Hey honey, how was your day?" He takes off his shoes, hat, and jacket, putting them in their designated spot as he waits for your reply. "It was pretty good, how was yours?" You ask. Upon being situated, he makes his way towards you, grabbing your hands and placing a soft pec on your lips. "The usual, kind of annoying, it feels like no one ever knows what they're doin', you know?" He says, seemingly happy to be home. You nod and understanding and rub his shoulder.

"Yeah, that sucks." You say. He nods, peeks into the kitchen for a second, and sits down on the couch, slouching back and patting the seat next to him. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, slightly revealing one of his tattoos. You take the hint and sit next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. Your fingers push his sleeve up a little more, tracing the outlines of the imagery. "These are pretty colorless, huh?" You say, glancing at him. He grins a little and nods. "Is this what those markers on the counter are for?" He asks, making you smile. "Yeah, do you care if I color them? I'm relatively good at keeping things inside the lines." You say, sitting up completely.

"I don't see why not. I should probably take this off, huh?" He says, starting to undo the buttons on his vest and then shirt in order to give you better access to his tattoos. You skittered into the kitchen, grabbing the markers and coming back to your husbands side. You gently opened the cardboard packaging before assessing your canvas. The first tattoo you wanted to color in was one of a very intricate flower, so you decided red would be a pretty option. Chuuya watches as you uncap the marker out of the corner of his eye. Your tongue pokes from the corner of your lip in concentration as you drag the marker along his skin, filling in the outlines.

You eventually fill a majority of the flower petals, moving onto the stem. You choose the green marker, holding the underside of Chuuyas arm while you color it. "You're doing a great job there, doll." He says, observing your near perfect coloring skills. "You should get them filled in like this." You joke, picking out another color for a different section. The hums quietly before nodding. "Maybe I will." You look up at him, a bit of surprise on your face. "What's with the look of shock, darlin'? Do you think I won't?" He asks, his head tilted to the side. You shake your head.

"I believe you will, I just think that's sweet." You say, making your new goal to make the colors pretty but unique. He watches the television while you work, making sure that your work contained as much love and effort as possible. After a while, Chuuya started to realize he's feeling the markers on tattoo-less areas. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked towards what you were doodling on his arm. He saw a variety of stars and flowers of your own. They were rather small, and Chuuya thought it was cute that you were making even more additions to his body art.

"You'll have to take pictures of these for me." He says. You hum in acknowledgement and finish up the flower you were doodling before capping the marker and returning it to its rightful spot in the box. You grab Chuuyas phone, opening it and taking a picture of the colors before handing the device back to him. He kisses your cheek in thanks before pulling you back into his side, leaning his head on your shoulder. "Thank you." He turns his head towards you. "What for?"

You look back down at all the colorful doodles. "For letting me borderline vandalize your arm." You playfully say, running your fingertips over his skin. "Don't be silly, it's not vandalizing, it's more of a lawful mural." He reaffirms while looking into your pretty eyes. "And it's cute stuff. It's not like you drew a dick or nothin'." He states, keeping you cuddled closely to him. You smile and give his hand a small squeeze before bringing his knuckles to your lips. "Yeah, you're right." You say with a small laugh. "Still though, thank you." He hums. "Ofcourse, doll, anytime you want."

A/n; I need the evermore ornaments SO badly. I NEEEEEDDDDD them. I'm gonna cry THE CONEY ISLAND ONE IM FJSJAKKAKS oh also thought I'd post a little more Chuuya before I post a ton of Fyodor because I got two asks revolving around him (I'm actually bouncing off the walls im so happy) and I've been talking up some ideas with a mutual : )

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nightfang22 · 2 years

Text

Get Angry

As a special treat for my friend @p34ch-tr33 who always pulls out my best work! Enjoy!

TW:Angst,smut insinuation,alcohol,18+

A tear runs down my cheek as I blow out the last candle on the cake. 20 candles nearly completely melted, wax mixed with icing, I sat alone in the dark as I waited for him. He should've been here 5 hours ago. Kenny promised this year would be different. He promised. I scroll through my Snapchat just looking at people's stories and watching dog videos. I clicked on Stan's story expecting to see cute photos of Sparky or videos with Wendy. What I saw broke my heart. Stan's story was filled with nothing but videos of a party at Kenny's house. I could see Wendy and Bebe taking shots and Cartman and Heidi making out. Butters was hitting on some poor drunk girl in the corner and Kyle was playing video games. Craig and Tweek were watching Jimmy break dance on a cardboard box in the middle of the room. I choked back a hard sob stuck in my throat but ultimately I failed. Then I remembered what my father told me when I was little: Don't cry, get mad. And when you get mad, get even. I picked myself up and brushed myself off, tossing the ruined cake in the garbage before fixing my makeup. I grabbed my keys and sped off in my car to Kenny's house.

Ever since Kenny's dad got that oil rig job and is never home anymore, Kenny hasn't really been Kenny. We used to celebrate each other's birthdays together all the time when we were kids but he's missed the last couple of years. He always made it up to me in the end but this time he completely forgot and didn't invite me to his party! I'll show him. I pull into Kenny's driveway and get out of my car. I knock on the door but there's no answer. 'Maybe the music is too loud for them to hear anything else?' So I knock again but louder. Stan opens the door looking back over his shoulder laughing at something before turning his head to face me. His eyes widen in shock. "(Y/N), what are you doing here?" He has a glass in his hand that has a golden brown liquid in it. I relieve him of his glass and down it. 'Hm, Kenny's dad's Scotch from the fancy liquor cabinet.' "I just came to say hi to Kenny and to remind him of the date. You know, since he didn't invite me to his little shindig." I said through gritted teeth. Stan is just staring at me dumbfounded before saying, "What? Kenny told us you couldn't make it cause you were sick. Everyone was asking about you." I smile softly and hug him. That makes me feel a teensy bit better. "Thank you, Stan. Where's Kenny?" I ask, my voice now calm and soft. Stan steps aside to let me in and points over to his dad's recliner where Kenny is sat watching Kyle play Nintendo. I give Stan back the empty glass and march over to Kenny. I stand in front of him, blocking his view of Kyle's game. I see his eyes widen for but a moment before I kick him square in the junk. "KENNY MCCORMICK, YOU ARE THE WORST FRIEND AND BIGGEST ASSHOLE I'VE EVER MET AND THAT SAYS SOMETHING CONSIDERING WE'VE KNOWN CARTMAN OUR WHOLE GODDAMN LIVES!" I scream at him in front of everyone. He's not wearing his parka so I have a full view of his face and just how red his cheeks are from embarrassment. The music suddenly stops and the whole room falls silent as everyone has their eyes on us. "NOT ONLY DO YOU THROW A PARTY AND TELL EVERYONE I'M SICK BUT YOU FORGET MY GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING BIRTHDAY FOR THE THIRD YEAR IN A MOTHERFUCKING ROW, YOU PIECE OF ABSOLUTE DOGSHIT! I HOPE YOU GET TOSSED ONTO A PIKE YOU SON OF A BITCH! I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU GUYS BUT I THINK THAT KENNY KABOBS SOUND PRETTY GODDAMN GOOD RIGHT ABOUT NOW!" And I kick him square in the junk one more time. Just for good measure, of course. "Okay everyone, let the party continue! It is my birthday, after all!" I slit my eyes in Kenny's direction when I say the word 'birthday'.

The music starts up again and everyone goes back to partying like nothing even happened. I walked into the kitchen to pour myself a heavy drink when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I roll my eyes sighing. Spinning around, I say "Kenny, I'm not sorry for kicking you in the balls and I'm especially not sorry for crashing your party, either." But when I spin around I am not met with blonde hair and blue-green eyes. I am met with messy black hair peeking out of a cute blue hat. "I'm not sorry you did either of those things, too. He really deserved it." It's Craig. I look up at his rather tall frame. Craig has towered over me since we were little. "Oh, sorry. I thought you were Kenny." He fakes being wounded in the chest. "Ouch, (Y/N). That bad, huh?" I could only laugh at his cheesy joke and brush his arm as I reply, "Nah, you're way cuter." His cheeks turn bright pink and that's when I notice Kenny watching out of the corner of my eye. I wrap my arms around Craig's neck and pull him in. We start to makeout and he has me pressed up against the wall. I break away only to pull him up the staircase to Kenny's bedroom. I open the door as Craig takes off his shirt. I turn to him as he pins me to the door, shutting it. He pulls my shirt off and unclasps my bra. He moves me to the bed and takes his hat off, placing it gently atop my head. Removing my skirt and undergarments, Craig kisses his way up my legs before he has me pinned beneath him. I never thought that my first time would be like this. As a revenge tactic with someone I didn't love. Especially not with Craig Tucker. He's leaning down to kiss me again when the door slams wide open. Kenny bursts through the door and pulls Craig off of me by the back of his head, slamming him into the wall. I jump up to my elbows. It appears that Craig is rendered unconscious. He's still breathing at least. I can see his chest moving rhythmically. I stare at Kenny as his head turns to me, his breathing hot and heavy. I can see why. He has a raging boner in his jeans. He pulls off his shirt and crawls on top of me. We make very intense and intimate eye contact for a few silent moments. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I shouldn't have forgotten." I clear my throat. "Or lied to everyone about you being sick. Can you please forgive me?" Kenny gives me his best puppy eyes, the ones that always got me to do whatever he wanted when we were little and even still to this day. "Okay, fine. I'll forgive you." He smiled at me softly kissing me on the lips. "You weren't really about to give away what's mine to Craig, right?" I shake my head while giggling. He chuckles. "Good. Now let me give you your birthday gift." He strips his bottoms and I flip him over. "Let me." I whisper. I get real close to his face before I whisper, "Nice try, asshole." I sit back up and slap him across the face. "You could never have me no matter how bad you want me, McCormick." I spit in his face as I got up, Craig's hat still atop my head. I saunter over to the door taking a final turn to look at Kenny. "You'd just die on me anyways, you fucking flip phone." Those were the last words I ever spoke to Kenny McCormick as I left him laying there confused and sexually frustrated with his cock out in a room with an unconscious Craig.

Word Count:1,358

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avatarmerida · 1 year

Text

Til You Make It

Okay so this was something I wanted to have finished for Valentines Day (and it shows) but then idk I just didn’t. But I wanted to finish it and at some point it became way longer than a drabble but I don’t have enough to do like a full multi chapter story so here’s some corny huntlow fake dating that’s king for no reason. Idk how I feel about it but maybe it’s just because I’ve been staring at it too long. Okay byyyyyeeee.

----

“...and then you pick truth or dare and we keep going back and forth like that,” Gus finished explaining the rules of the game. The boys had such a fun time sharing a room in the human realm they decided to have a sleepover and Gus was walking Hunter through the difference between sharing a room and sleeping over. The main difference was the games you played, according to Gus.

“Okay so I guess… truth?” Hunter said tentatively as they sat on the ground in front of Gus’ bed, their new matching Cosmic Frontier sleeping bags laid neatly beneath them.

“Okaaay,” Gus sang with a mischievous grin. “Tell me a secret…”

“Oh, well I don’t think we have any secrets anymore, I mean after everything that’s happened I think you must know most-.”

“... about Willow.” Gus finished, raising his eyebrow.

“Why would I know one of Willow’s secrets?” Hunter stuttered nervously. “A-and even if I did, I would never divulge one without her permission. Why would you-.”

“I’m preeeetty sure you have at least one secret involving Willow,” Gus cut him off as he reached for his juice box sitting on the nightstand. By now, Hunter’s massive crush on their friend was old news but Gus knew Hunter was making some progress, but getting him to open up about it presented its challenges. He thought this was the perfect game to get the ball rolling or at least see where the ball was. “But if you would rather do a dare…”

“No! No, it’s fine.” Hunter said, taking a deep breath. “There actually… is something I’ve been wanting to talk about. But everything stays confidential, right?”

“I’ll take the solemn vow of secrecy that Avery pledged to O’Bailey.” Gus said with a serious face that put Hunter at ease, knowing the severity of the oath.

“Okay,” Hunter took another deep breath as he fiddled with his thumbs. “Right before… everything happened, I sent Willow a message…”

“Okaaay?” Said Gus, prompting him to continue. “What about?”

“I uh, well… we had been messaging a lot and I… really liked talking to her and she asked if I could push up my next day off so we could hang out and I said I might be able to after the Day of Unity and I said maybe we could even… goonadate.”

“What?!” Gus exclaimed, spitting out his juice. “Are you serious?!”

“That was before I knew what the Day of Unity really was!” Hunter sputtered.

“I know that!” Said Gus, saving his mouth with a napkin. “I’m talking about you asking Willow out! Dude, that’s huge!”

“I know!” Hunter exclaimed, reaching for a pillow to scream into. “I nearly threw my scroll across the room afterwards. I-I don't know what came over me I just… said it! I didn’t really know what it meant! Darius joked about it, about me asking her on a date and so I just asked him what that meant and he said it was two people who liked each other spending time together alone and I… liked how it sounded. I didn’t really know about the romantic part until after but even then I… I think I still would’ve asked.”

“Hmm, I bet you would have,” Gus said with a smirk. “But, wait, why haven’t you guys gone on one?” Gus gave a little gasp. “Did she say no?”

“She never replied,” sighed Hunter. “Granted, it was late and she did mention she was tired so she might’ve fallen asleep. But then ya, know alot of stuff happened and then when I saw you guys at Hexside, I didn’t have my scroll to see if she saw it or responded. I mean, there was really no good time to bring it up! And I thought she didn’t bring it up because… maybe she did say no.”

“Well you have your scroll now! Did she ever reply?”

“Not to that message,” said Hunter, pulling it up and scrolling through a sea of messages. “After that it's mostly ‘are you okay?’ And ‘why are there scouts at the Owl House?’ She changed the subject, probably to let me down easy.”

“Or because she was worried about your safety?” Gus offered, knowing that was the real answer. “If we wanna know if she got it, we gotta ask her!”

Hunter’s eyes widened in panic. “No! There’s too many variables! What if she was gonna say no? What if she never saw it but would’ve said no? What if she said yes but she’s changed her mind? What if-?”

“What if she said ‘sure, when?’ but it never sent and she thinks that you left her on read?” Gus countered and Hunter gasped at the very notion.

“I would never!” He hissed. “Willow knows that! She knows… doesn’t she?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” said Gus.

“But… what if I waited too long and she lost interest or never had interest and I’ll just make her uncomfortable if I talk about it-.”

“Dude, stop.” Gus said firmly, cutting him off before he totally spiraled. “Even if Willow doesn’t like you that way, she’s still your friend and cares about you. She would never try to make you feel bad about having feelings.”

“You’re right Gus,” Hunter sighed, looking fondly at the profile picture of Willow smiling brightly back at him. “I should just come clean and express my feelings more directly.”

“Exactly!”

“In a handwritten note!” Hunter declared with flair.

“That’s… a start.”

---

So Hunter drafted his love note.

And then it turned into more of a novel, so he revised it so it wasn’t so overwhelming and got it down to a respectable page and a half. He carried it with him everywhere, waiting for the right moment. He had selected a simple light green envelope and doodled tiny flowers in the corners, as though he was worried the elegant way he wrote her name on the front in bold gold ink wasn’t clue enough that it was meant for her.

He needed to ensure there was no confusion about whether or not she saw it.

---

“Guys, guys guys!” said Hunter in a panicky tone as he rushed to the lunch table with Gus and Willow sat and had just been wondering where he was. He quickly sat down beside Willow and lowered his voice as though he was on the run, his hazel eyes overrun with guilt. “I did something bad.”

“Cool! What?” asked Willow, in the middle of opening a pudding cup.

“Well, I was on my way here and I ran into Boscha-

“Ew.” said Willow, naturally.

“And she… asked me out.” Hunter winced before proceeding to explain as fast as he could. “And of course I said no but she wouldn’t drop it until I gave her a good reason so I panicked and I sort of lied and said that you’re my girlfriend so she’d leave me alone.”

“Oh.” Willow said as Hunter examined her face for the disapproval he assumed his confession would warrant, but she seemed more focused on the stubborn top of her pudding. “So what’s the bad thing you did?”

“I-I lied!” Hunter said, as though she had not heard.

“Yeah, to Boscha.” Willow shrugged, saying the name like it left a bad taste in her mouth.

“But I lied about you!”

“Yeah, to Boscha,” Willow repeated again with a small laugh. “Hunter, I know better than anyone how persistent Boscha can be. If lying about me being your girlfriend gets her to leave you alone, I’m more than fine with it.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Willow assured him, finally opening the cup and placing the pudding in front of him before turning to open her own. She knew he was always running late to lunch because he had a habit of staying after class to ask follow up questions and the run in with Boscha had only delayed him more.

“Oh, okay…”

“Ya know, I’m surprised Boscha would ask you out,” chuckled Willow before fully hearing how her words could be taken. Her eyes widened in a slight panic and she raised her hands as she tried to explain. “Not that I don’t understand wanting to date you! No, it’s just that I’m surprised Boscha could see how amazing you are! She doesn’t normally have such great taste. I mean uh, well you know what I mean.”

“Heh, yeah,” said Hunter, sipping the drink Gus had brought him as he tried not to think too much into what she said. Not that I don’t understand wanting to date you…

“Okay, I get not wanting to date Boscha but why did you say you were dating Willow?” asked Gus.

“Well who else was I supposed to say?”

“Literally anyone else?” said Gus, fully aware that Willow was often already on Hunter’s mind and it was most likely the result of a reflex or wishful thinking. “Or like, don’t give her a name? You could’ve said she went to a different school or something. Even if Boscha did respect boundaries, you know how she treats Willow. She’ll probably try and break you up just to hurt her.”

“Hmmm maybe not,” said Willow, a thought forming behind her eyes.

“What do you mean?” asked Gus.

“Well, she might try to break us up,” started Willow. “Ooor she might be too embarrassed for anyone to know that Hunter would rather go out with half-a-witch Willow over her.”

“I mean, I guess that’s not a lie,” Hunter reasoned. “Except for the half-a-witch part.” He reached over and placed his hand over hers and looked seriously into her eyes. “Please don’t call yourself that.”

Willow’s eyes fluttered from his hand on hers up to his face, looking at her with total sincerity, his value of her outweighing any nerves that could accompany the action. She felt like a butterfly was loose in her chest, flying rapidly around in her ribcage.

“Ya know, I bet if she saw you holding my hand she would lose her mind,” said Willow with a mischievous grin, loving both parts of the sentence.

“Oh! Uh, well yeah … I guess?” stuttered Hunter, not sure if he should remove his hand or not. “I mean, that’s not why I-.”

“I mean, if I’m gonna be your fake girlfriend then it’s gonna look convincing,” Willow decided, instantly onboard. “We should probably hold hands alot more, especially if we just started dating; we’ll have to be even more obnoxious than Amity and Luz.”

“Is that even possible?”

“Well, let’s find out,” said Willow slyly, turning her hand over to lace her fingers with Hunter’s. She continued to eat her lunch as though this multitasking was second nature. “Oh yeah, Boscha would hate this.”

“Haha yeah,” Hunter laughed nervously, unable to fully process what was happening but knowing it felt very nice. He put his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his other hand as he admired their connected hands as he tried to convincingly convey a teenager in love. “She’d totally hate this.” he sighed with a dopey grin. .

“You know I’d do anything for you, right?” Willow smiled. “And if sticking it to Boscha is a part of helping you, well how could I say no?”

“Are you sure? I mean, I know it wasn’t the smartest thing to-.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Willow insisted. “It’s kinda perfect actually, she was being a pest yesterday about how I didn’t have a date for Bleeding Hearts Day. It’s really none of her business but it’ll be kind of nice getting to see her face when it turns out that I do.”

“Oh, right.”

“It kind of sounds like fun, actually, like an undercover mission. We can meet after school to plan our fake relationship, sound good?”

“S-sure, yeah.”

“Well, I gotta go check on my bulbs before next period to make sure they’re adjusting to their new soil, but wanna walk to class together, boyfriend?” She said the term in such an overly sweet way, Hunter thought his teeth might fall out. She said it the same way she would say his name when she thought he was keeping a secret that she knew she could work it out of him with very little effort. Was it because they shared a secret now or did she know something else was up? Either way, he wanted to hear her say it over and over again.

“Oh, uh y-yeah of course!” He chuckled nervously. “We can uh hold hands too I guess…” he sheepishly sipped his drink and Willow just giggled, knowing he had not intended to get himself into this situation and felt out of place not being prepared. But luckily her mind was racing with solutions.

“You betcha,” she confirmed, rising from the table and giving him a playful wink. “I’ll meet you by your locker?”

“I’ll be there!” he said with enthusiasm, waving to Willow as she walked away keeping his eyes on her until she left the cafeteria entirely. “Oh Titan I’ve made things worse.” Hunter groaned into his hands once he knew Willow was out of earshot.

“Sooo what happened to giving her the note?” Gus asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.“Isn’t this like skipping a few steps?”

“I-I don’t know! It all happened so fast!” Hunter mumbled. “I was about to put the note in Willow’s locker when Boscha walked by and took it from me! She saw Willow’s name on the front and went to rip it up and hen I asked her not to, she read it. She read it in this ugly high pitched voice and threatened to tell everyone and I… panicked.”

“What did the note say exactly?”

Hunter’s face turned a bright shade of crimson, having intended for the note to remain personal and having it exposed once already today was a lot. “It… just said that I liked her and I wanted to see if she wanted to see a professional flyer derby game with me for Bleeding Hearts Day.” Hunter summarized, the real note had been hard enough to condense as he wanted to make sure he covered all his bases and thoroughly expressed his feelings.

“Aww, Willow would love that!”

“Right?! Then Bocha tried to turn it into something bad like I should be embarrassed about liking her but I’m not. But she could tell I was embarrassed about something and so she threatened to tell everyone and I didn’t want Willow to find out from her so… I said that she was already my girlfriend. I mean, Luz and Amity send each other notes like that all the time so it’s believable, right?”

“So Boscha didn’t really ask you out?”

“No.” Hunter buried face in his hands and groaned. “Ugh, and I lied to Willow too! But I didn’t know how to explain to Willow why I lied to Boscha without telling her everything and now…”

“Now you get to show Willow what a great boyfriend you’d be.” Gus finished.

“What?”

“I mean, maybe you didn’t totally blow it,” Gus continued. “I mean, Willow didn’t seem upset about people thinking she was your girlfriend. Maybe that’s a good thing?”

“But it’s pulling her into my lie!” Hunter said. “Relationships shouldn’t be based on lies!”

“I mean, you tried pulling her into a coven and she still likes you,” Gus pointed out, as he continued to chew. “Fake it til you make it, right?”

“Right,” said Hunter with a small, uneasy smile. “Fake it til you make it.”

—-

“Hey boyfriend.” Willow smiled as she turned the corner to see Hunter gathering his books. Hearing her refer to him like that made his knees feel weak. It sounded so natural.

“Hey g-girlfriend,” he said, trying to summon the same confidence she had. But the word felt almost forbidden. But very nice. “H-how are your plants?”

“They’re great!” She exclaimed. “Thanks for asking, what a sweet attentive boyfriend I have.”

Hunter blushed, he had always asked her about her plants.

“So Luz, Amity, and I are practically rom com experts,” said Willow proudly. “That, plus being around the two of them nonstop, makes me confident that I have the expertise to ensure that we can be a very convincing couple.”

“I mean, we would only have to be a couple around Bocha right? And we aren’t around Boscha that much so you don’t have to put yourself out for me.”

“Nonsense!” Willow insisted. “You’re still getting used to things but I know how high school works. Word travels fast, everyone is looking for gossip. We can’t risk the mission crumbling due to carelessness.” Her voice dived into a serious whisper that lured Hunter down to hear her better, her tone covered him in a sense of urgency as though this truly was the mission of a lifetime. “There are eyes everywhere.”

“Of course, Captain,” he said with a serious nod, his voice low and gravely which sent a chill down Willow’s spine.

“I won’t lie, there may be challenges,” said Willow embracing the theatrics of the moment. “After last time, Boscha will be looking for any reason to try and prove that I-.”

“‘Last time?’” Hunter asked. “What do you mean ‘last time?’”

He knew he wasn’t referring to their scuffle at New Hexside. He knew Willow’s history with Bosha was complicated, but had he done something to worsen it?

“Okay, listen it’s not a big deal,” Willow began in a forced tone that suggested it definitely was. “But last year ago before Luz even got here, there was someone in a few of my classes that I kind of had a crush on,” she fiddled with her braid as she cleared her throat. “I thought they were really nice and cute but I was shy so I didn’t really have the confidence to talk to them. So I wrote a note to tell them how I felt and put it in their locker. A few days later they wrote me back and they… asked me to go to Grom.”

“And you said yes?”

Willow nodded. “I was really excited, I had never been asked out on a date before,” she recalled. “I even saved up to buy a new dress. And my dads were maybe even more excited than me, they were gonna take hundreds of pictures, and they waited with me for them to come pick me up like they said they would. And we waited, and waited, and waited. But they never showed up.”

“Did something happen to them?”

“When I asked them about it at school the next day…they just laughed. They laughed like it was the most ridiculous joke they had ever heard, going to a dance with me. Turns out, it was. They were never gonna show up for me because they had never really asked me. The note was from Boscha.”

“No!”

Willow took a deep breath, it had been awhile since she had shared this story. “Yeah. She had somehow found out about the note and sent the fake one as a prank so I’d either show up and be humiliated or miss the dance all together. Kind of a win-win for her.”

“Willow, that’s awful.” said Hunter, feeling as though he was about to cry, sorry he was causing her to relive the painful memory. He wondered if Boscha had been planning to repeat herself when she caught Hunter trying to leave Willow his note. He shuddered at the idea of her getting a note like that thinking it was from him. His galdertone ached at the idea that she could've gotten his note and thought it was written as a cruel joke.

“So it took me awhile to trust myself when I started liking someone, and even longer to believe that someone could ever like me like that.” said Willow.

“Willow I'm so sorry that happened to you, that’s just… you don’t… Oh, I’m sorry I got you involved in this,” said Hunter. “I-I don’t know why I did, I mean I knew how Boscha treated you, I should've known she’d find a way to try and-.”

“Hunter, it’s fine really,” Willow assured him. “I know I still let Boscha get under my skin sometimes, but I know this time is nothing like that. Plus I’d hate for her to try and do something like that to you. We’re not doing this to prove anything to her, it’s to keep her away from you. But if she found out that we were pretending… she’d be unbearable.”

“I mean she’s already unbearable,” Hunter scoffed.

“I won’t argue with you there,” said Willow with a light chuckle.

“So… have you liked anyone… since then?” Hunter tried to ask naturally.

“Um… maybe?” A subtle blush crept onto her face and she hoped he didn't notice. He thought he imagined it. “There is… someone I kind of…”

“There is?” Hunter's heart plummeted as his eyes widened in horror. “Oh my Titan, there’s someone you like and now I’ve roped you into dating me and now they’ll think you’re taken! Willow, I’m so sorry! If you wanna break up with me I can always see if-.”

“No! No, no it’s okay,” Willow insisted. “I think they’d understand. It’s fine, I promise.”

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely,” she said sweetly. “I’m fairly certain that pretending to date you will not hurt my chances with him.”

“Okay,” Hunter sighed, confused and relieved. His mind raced with who this person would be, this lucky, mysterious, and apparently very secure person who Willow had her eye on. He didn’t ask more questions, not wanting to pry and not wanting to increase the creeping feeling of jealousy lurking in his chest.

“Ya know, this will be my first Bleeding Hearts day with someone, even if it’s not totally legit,” mused Willow. “It’s still exciting though. It’ll be nice to spend it with someone I care about.”

“Yeah?” Hunter asked, unable to process that she had referred to him as someone special without air quotes or sarcasm. She really was looking forward to spending time with him on the most romantic day on the Isles? He had to make it worth her sacrifice. Luckily, he had the perfect day planned for months. “Well then, if you’re not doing anything already I was thinking we could go to a pro flyer derby match together.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Really? I would love- wait, do you mean the match on Bleeding Hearts day between the Sirens and the Harpies?”

“Yeah! I-if that’s okay….” Hunter started, pulling the tickets out of his pocket where he had been keeping them safe. “I actually already got us pretty good seats, so if you-.”

“Hunter!” Willow exclaimed, taking them carefully from him to admire them. “Are you serious? How did you ever… I mean this is so… I don’t even know what to say! This is so amazing I could just kiss you!”

“Hehehe uh well I guess technically you could…” he said quietly as he scratched his face. Willow was too engrossed in the tickets for Hunter to tell if she had heard him. “But I uh, got them as a thank you. For, ya know, being my… girlfriend.”

Willow smiled as she wrapped him in a tight hug, burying her face in his chest as she lifted him off the ground. “So that does that mean… you wanna go?” he strained to ask as she squeezed him tighter. She laughed as she gently put him back on his feet, taking delight in the red mesmerized look on his face.

“Of course! What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t?” She giggled, only slightly embarrassed at her impulse.She knew it was for show, but truthfully she couldn’t imagine a better evening than yelling in the crowd beside Hunter. How had Boscha managed to accidentally arrange one of the most perfect nights of her life? She was finally good for something, it seemed.

---

Pretending to date Hunter was unsurprisingly easy.

They spent the day adjusting their routine to that of a couple, and it turns out they needed to adjust very little.

They already went out of their way to walk to class together, so now they walked closer and linked pinkies as they walked.

When he dropped her off at her class, she always sent him away with an enthusiastic farwell, now she blew him a kiss before he left.

During study hall he sent her paragraphs worth of ideas for pet names. Terms of endearment tailor made for Willow that she couldn’t help but feel he thought of way too quickly, as though he already had them handy.

Such little things that made the biggest difference

During their time in the human realm, they would create little backstories for themselves to help them blend in and get adjusted to things. It was something silly they did to take their mind off the uncertainty of things and help the time pass, but now it was just a silly thing they did for reasons they couldn’t explain. Willow knew plenty of couples weren’t overly affectionate and they didn’t need to go so deep undercover, but she was willing to commit to the bit as much as he was. It was another thing they would do back in human realm, see who would break first or who would be the first to have nothing new to add. But this was one time Willow was hoping for a draw.

All through class she watched the clock, so eager to see him again and add another detail to their story. Her favorite part was when the bit reached a point where it felt like an elaborate inside joke that blurred the lines between fact and fiction. Hunter was always the best at creating with her. Sometimes it took him awhile to find the character, but if his Golden Guard days taught him anything it was how to adapt.

---

At the end of their first day “together”, any guilt Hunter harbored had vanished with Willow's collection of ideas suggesting she really was excited for this plan. If only asking her for real could be this simple. As they walked to the Owl House for their usual Friday hang chatting as they always did, they did so hand in hand only to remember halfway there that since they were out of school they didn’t technically need to be. But neither said this aloud. They were both convinced the other was simply dedicated to the ruse.

“... and I thought we could go official on penstagram but we have to do matching profile pictures first,” continued Willow. “I thought we could do one where we’re each doing like half a heart with our hands so when the ‘in a relationship’ update happens they’ll be next to each other and it’ll look so cute.”

Hunter had made it clear that he was fine with whatever Willow was comfortable with and he assumed that meant they would hold hands in the hallway for a couple of weeks (which was more than enough to make his head spin) but she was fine with everyone on the Isles thinking they were romantically involved. He knew Boshca didn’t have so much influence that the effort was necessary, but he convinced himself that Willow was simply covering all their bases.

It was for the bit.

As they reached the front door, Hooty was absent from his usual spot which signaled to Willow and Hunter that the weekend festivities were in full swing. Willow went to open the door with her free hand when suddenly a thought struck her and she turned to her co conspirator with a look of concern.

“Hunter, you did tell Luz we were only pretending to be dating, right?”

“I didn’t tell her anything,” he said, having not seen Luz since this morning when she saw them off before heading to her school in the human realm. “Only Gus knows that we’re pretending. I haven’t even talked to her since this morning, I don’t even know how she would know.”

“Oh Titan.” Willow said, the color draining from her face. “I think we might be in trouble.”

“Why would you say that?” Hunter asked as he opened the door for Willow and the answer to his question presented itself as they were instantly ambushed by the force that was Hooty. The bird tube wrapped them into a tight hug, crying about how excited he was for them as Hunter and Willow saw he was not alone in his sentiment.

“Congratulations to the happy couple!” Luz exclaimed as Hooty loosened his grip on them so she could toss confetti in their faces.

“Oh, that’s why.” Hunter whispered to Willow as they both regulated their breathing after being stuck in Hooty’s grip. All they could do now was smile awkwardly as they both took in the display Luz had prepared. A “congratulations” sign hung behind Luz in the doorway, the letters decorated in pink, purple and blue and then pink, yellow and blue. They had set up Eda’s old projector and a slideshow of pictures of Willow and Hunter played on what appeared to be a loop. There were a decent amount. It was just the kind of celebration a new couple would really appreciate.

If only they were a real couple.

It also happened to include nearly everyone from school, so correcting Luz right away wasn’t an option.

“Wow this is so… uh, you guys really shouldn’t have,” said Willow as she took it all in. She didn’t dislike it, no that wasn’t it. Hunter tried to place her tone, thinking that by the redness in her cheeks she might be embarrassed. If he didn’t know any better he might think she was… committing to the bit. That’s all it was.

But he couldn’t help but feel as though everyone had been expecting this celebration to take place sooner or later.

“Are you kidding? It’s not everyday your best friend starts dating your brother!” said Luz as she pulled them both into a hug,and they looked at each other nervously behind her back. She leaned back to offer them both a wide smile, practically jumping out of her skin as Amity joined her.

“Yeah! It’ll be nice to go on double dates!”

“Oh man, if I had known your crush didn’t go away, I would’ve set this up months ago!” added Luz.

Their eyes widened simultaneously, each thinking Luz was referring to them only, unaware how mutual the feeling was. They spoke at the same time, hoping to move on before she revealed too much.

“Oh! Well you know we don’t have to-.”

“Actually, we were thinking that-.”

“Hey there lovebirds!” Gus said, rushing in to save the day. “Why don’t you come to the kitchen and get some pizza?”

“Yes! Yes, of course!” said Hunter, happy for the save as he took Willow’s hand before following Gus back. “My girlfriend loves pizza!”

“Awh, look at them,” sighed Luz, resting her head on Amity’s shoulder. “He knows that she loves pizza.”

Once in the kitchen, sure no one was listening in, Hunter turned to Gus in a panic but the younger boy simply offered him a calm, knowing look.

“Gus, why didn’t you tell them we were just pretending?” whispered Hunter.

“I didn’t have time!” he said. “I showed up and Luz told me before I could even say hello!”

“Well who told Luz?” asked Willow.

“Who didn’t tell Luz?” laughed Gus. “Someone saw you two holding hands and one thing led to another and by the time I got here Luz had already talked to half the school. I didn’t wanna blow your cover so I went with it. I just assumed you two were just doing another bit like we used to do all the time.”

“Gus, this isn’t like trying to convince the lady at the flower shop that Willow used to be an actual willow tree and that’s why she can make the plants grow,” said Hunter. “This is serious!”

“Hunter, it’ll be fine,” assured Willow, placing her hand on his shoulder. “We can always explain things to her after, we just need to do some extra pretending tonight. If it’s too hard, we can always leave early.”

Hunter wasn’t worried about it being too hard, he was worried about it being too easy. He was worried Luz would let it slip exactly why it was too easy for him. Luz had honed in on his crush early on, maybe even before he was aware of it, and it stood to reason that she believed Willow was also aware of it now. How do you tell someone your girlfriend doesn’t know about your crush on her?

“Right,” he said, grateful for Willow’s support. They had been through worse, through deadlier and more dire things, surely they could survive a night of awkwardness.

Surely they could survive the flyer derby team’s stream of questions as Willow convinced them they kept it secret as to avoid drama on the team.

Surely they could survive everyone at the party mentioning how they knew it all along.

Surely they could survive the video Luz had somehow made (dare they assume she had it prepared in advance?) to summarize their relationship becoming official. As they sat on the coach, watching every picture he and Willow had ever taken together move along the screen while a song neither of them had ever heard played softly in the background. From the corner of his eye he watched Willow watch as the screen zoom in on a group photo where he was standing beside her looking at her with a faint blush as she pulled him into frame, her hand tight on his waist.

Her finger twirled her braid as he failed to read her expression for how she was feeling. He didn’t want to feel overwhelmed if she wasn’t. With the other bits, he always followed her lead. But the difference was that he had been the one to rope them into this one. And it wasn’t something they were doing to fool a stranger they would only see for five minutes, this was basically everyone they knew.

But she didn’t seem to mind.

She actually really seemed to like it.

“Don’t worry I made you copy to show your dads when you tell them.” Said Luz as the presentation came to an end, proud of her work. “I mean, unless you’ve already told them.”

“Well, we-.”

“Oh, they must’ve,” interrupted Amity. “I know how strict they are about this type of thing, there’s no way Hunter would ask Willow out without their blessing.”

“Oh, actually-.”

“That’s right!” Hunter interrupted this time. “I did ask them! And they said… no!”

“They said no?” Amity asked, surprised.

“What?” said Luz and Gus together.

“Wait, did you- I mean, yes! That’s right!” Said Willow, catching on. “He asked them and they said no but we are dating anyway! So it’s a secret!”

“Yeah! We are secretly dating!” Confirmed Hunter. “So we should not mention it to them. Because of the secret aspect of it.”

“Oh, yeah of course.” Said Amity .

“Yeah, we won’t say anything.” promised Luz.

“Good, because we-.”

“Why did they say no?” Amity asked.

“Huh?”

“I mean, it’s kind of odd, right?” She went on, stroking her chin. “I mean, they seem like they really like Hunter and they always tease you about him being your boyfriend, so what changed?”

“Uh…” Willow thought nervously, having not told Hunter about all the time her dads had “accidentally” referred to him as her boyfriend when his name came up (which was honestly quite often). “They caught us… kissing?”

“Kissing?! You two have kissed already and neither of you told me???” Luz exclaimed. “How long have you been going out that you’re already kissing?”

“Uh, well…” Hunter tried to start, starting to sweat. He and Willow had established a fairly thorough cover story, but they had never discussed this. Even hypothetical, Hunter knew he couldn’t muster the courage to bring it up to Willow. But now it was all he could think about. Between imagining that and trying to create a story in which it could believably happen, Hunter felt as though he was about to malfunction.

“Two weeks ago,” said Willow calmly.

“What?!” Luz exclaimed.

“What? I mean, yeah! We kissed two weeks ago!” said Hunter with a nervous laugh.

“Well? C’mon! Do we not get a story?”

“Um it uh was… a day-.” started Hunter.

“It was after our match against Glandus, it had gone into double overtime so it was late and Hunter was walking me home like he always does,” started Willow, to a room of “awhs” and “how sweet.” “But we were still taking our time, talking about the game and then all of a sudden, clouds start forming and we realize it’s gonna rain. We’re almost to my house so Hunter picks me up and uses his teleportation to rush me to the door before a drop can hit me. So then we’re standing on my porch and he’s standing really close so the rain won’t hit him and he just looks so cute… I dunno, I guess it was the adrenaline or something but I just pulled him down and kissed him.”

“Awh, that’s so sweet,” said Luz, brushing a tear away. “A first kiss in the boiling rain? It’s like something out of a book.”

“Yeah,” said Hunter, looking over at Willow. He remembered that day. It wasn’t something Willow invented to help sell their lie. They had gone into overtime and he had walked her home and he had rushed her onto her porch before the rain statered, But in reality, they had lingered there. He remembered their faces inches from each other, close enough to feel her breath on his face. She had been close enough that pulling him down would’ve been easy. And he thought about it, he did. Or at least, he knew this was the kind of moment where that kind of thing happened. They stood in silence for a few moments and he told himself later that it was because they wanted to make sure they were safely out of the rain. But truthfully he forgot about the rain, he could only focus on the lingering face paint clinging to the sides of Willow’s glasses and how he was close enough to see it so clearly. How he was close enough to…

But her dads had opened the door and welcomed the pair inside for a celebratory dinner before that possibility could be explored

That was the only thing she changed.

She didn’t need to pick that moment, she could have invented something totally new and Hunter would've gone along with it. But the fact that she did… well Hunter didn’t know what that meant. She would often sneak little jokes into their larger ones, but was this a joke within a joke or a reimagining?

“Yeah,” said Hunter, his voice soft and dreamy, transported to Willow’s improved version of the day. “That’s… that’s what happened.”

“So uh, actually we’d better get going,” said Willow, sitting up as she sensed Hunter was growing overstimulated. “Ever since then, they’ve been really strict about my curfew. And I know Hunter has a potions essay to work on.”

“Oh okay!” said Luz as she wrapped them both in a tight hug. “But I will be texting you a million follow up questions. You too, Hunter.”

“Cool, sure,” said Hunter, knowing that meant he and Willow would be on a video call making sure their answers lined up. He hated to think that he was enjoying inconveniencing her so much.

“Now go walk your girlfriend to the door, I bet you wanna kiss her goodnight,” teased Luz and everyone in the room let out an ohhhh

“Haha! You bet!” Said Hunter with forced enthusiasm, his voice cracking ever so slightly as he felt the room get hotter. “Willow! Let me walk you outside and we can kiss like we always do!”

Willow smiled in spite of herself and followed Hunter outside, waving goodbye to her friends as to keep up appearances. She couldn’t help but take a little delight in how nervous Hunter was. She always really liked that part of the bit.

“How are we gonna convince them we’re out here kissing?” Hunter whispered on the verge of a panic attack as the door shut behind them (luckily Hooty promised them privacy). “I can see Luz peeping through the curtains.

“Like this,” said Willow calmly, placing her hands on either side of his face and pulling him down close to her. As she did, she sneakily placed her thumbs over his lips and placed her lips against her thumbs, a nearly invisible barrier to the nosey on lookers inside

It was fake and staged but Hunter couldn’t help the way his heart raced, still being so close to her. He knew he had to sell his end but he didn’t know how to look like someone who was casual about kissing Willow Park. So he did the only thing he could think of and kept his arms at his sides, lest they do the wrong thing. He didn’t know if this was right, but he knew he wouldn’t know what was right so that made it right, right?

She closed her eyes and so he did too. He heard her hum and his lips formed a smile against her thumbs as their noses brushed against each other.

When she pulled away she gave him a small wink and patted his cheek to signify it had worked. It really had. No one at the party could deny that he was head over heels for Willow Park. Absolutely no one.

“Oh, okay,” he said, not knowing what to say but feeling like he should say something. “Uh… thanks.”

“Sure, yeah,” she said, trying to remain composed. There was no reason not to be, nothing had happened. “Anytime.”

It was just like that day on her porch.

“Why do you bring Willow flowers everyday?” Gus asked

“I don’t bring her flowers every day,” corrected Hunter as he handed Willow a small bouquet. “I mostly bring her seeds and clippings so she can grow her own flowers.”

“But why?”

“Because Willow loves plants? It’s kinda her whole thing? Well, that and-.”

“No I mean, why do you bring Willow flowers if you’re not actually dating?” Asked Gus.

“Because if I was really dating Willow I would try and bring her flowers everyday,” said Hunter simply and Willow hid her blush in the collection of red and yellow flowers Hunter had brought her.

“You mean if you were dating anyone, right?”

“Well not just anyone,” Hunter corrected him again. “Not everyone can handle the responsibility of plant care like Willow can.”

“But what if you were dating someone who wasn’t good with plants?” asked Gus.

Hunter looked at Gus like that was the most ridiculous question he had ever heard. “Why would I do that?”

Willow just giggled as she grabbed her books and held her flowers close to her chest to go add them to her garden in the greenhouse before class. As she walked away, she blew Hunter an over the top kiss as had become their tradition. He reached out his arm and pretended to reach for it as though it had nearly flown over his head before finally catching it and putting it in his breast pocket for safe keeping. Willow giggled as she turned the corner and Hunter wore a very convincing dopey grin as his eyes lingered on her until she completely left his sight.

“I know you’re trying to play it off as part of your ‘fake dating’ bit or whatever, but you always give Willow flowers before school and no one even sees you do it,” said Gus.

“I mean I… I guess I just need to thank her for doing this,” he admitted. “I mean, it started out as lying to Boscha but I’ve been lying to her too! And I know it’s wrong but I’ve really liked spending time with her and it’s easier this way for some reason? And I’ve tried telling her, I really have, but everytime I try she adds something to the story and I just… I think I’m in too deep.”

“Hmm, it’s almost like she enjoys being your girlfriend,” said Gus as he closed his locker. “Go figure.”

---

Hunter sat on the end of the couch, his back against the armrest as his arm rested around Willow’s shoulder as she leaned against him with her knees tucked to the side as she showed him a video on her scroll as they waited for Gus to started the movie .The scene was very cozy, very natural.

Very unnecessary.

“You guys don’t have to do that, ya know.” said Gus, walking in and promptly sitting down on the ground in front of the couch, placing the popcorn on the coffee table. “I’m in on your little ruse, remember?”

“We know it’s just… an easier way to sit?” said Hunter as Willow let out a bright, airy giggle. “I mean, there’s not a lot of room so…”

“Uh-huh,” said Gus, looking next to them where two full cushions remained unoccupied. “Sure.”

“Plus, it’s like being undercover,” offered Hunter. “You need to be prepared, you never know who could be watching.”

“In my house?” Gus asked with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Yeah Gus we’re undercover,” said Willow, making herself even more comfortable at his side, resting her head on his shoulder as though that was where it was always meant to be. “Besides, we’re gonna break up soon.”

“Oh, really?” Gus asked skeptically, rolling his eyes as paused the opening of the movie, wondering when his third wheeling would become official.

“Yes, really,” said Willow smugly, reaching behind her to grab the notebook off the end table. “We’ve been brainstorming.”

“Sure, that’s totally what you were doing,” he said, his sarcasm loud and clear. “So then, what do you have so far?”

“Okay, well…” Willow hesitated to start. “Here’s the thing…”

“It’s empty, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s empty,” said Willow, sitting back against Hunter’s arm. “We just… can’t think of a reason to break up.”

“Not a believable one, at least,” added Hunter. “We want it to be mutual so it won’t be suspicious when everyone thinks we’re just friends again. I mean well, not ‘again’ cause we always were, like the whole time, heh.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, as though it was a real problem. “So we tried to think of something less personal. Like, not something about one of us but maybe because we’re too busy and don’t have time for a relationship.”

“But then we thought, that might not make sense since we do spend a lot of time together,” Hunter continued. “We still play flyer derby together and we’re in some classes together. Not to mention we have movie night with you every week…”

“I mean, it doesn’t have to be a big or flashy reason,” Gus offered, knowing they didn’t really try very hard. “You can just say you're better as friends. People shouldn’t question that.”

Except they definitely would, because Hunter would definitely still have a crush on Willow. He would still look at her with the same dopey grin, the same wide eyes, and the same rose colored flush in his cheeks. He knew he would because nothing about her had changed, she was still so wonderful and funny and smart and brave and beautiful. Titan, if anything this whole thing has made him like her more. And he didn’t mind still feeling this way, as confusing as it was, but he worried that his infatuation would make their story unconvincing. They would claim it was mutual and there were no lingering feelings, but now all eyes would be on them to see if it were true and there his feelings would be: lingering.

And he worried people would somehow find a way to make Willow the bad guy. He knew Boscha was grasping at straws trying to ruin Willow’s reputation, and being a heartbreaker might be the straw she needed. He would deny she had broken his heart, but when it came down to it he didn’t think he could convincingly state he did not still have feelings for her.

And that might be enough to make things weird.

“I mean, we should at least stay together until Bleeding Hearts day,” said Willow. “We can figure out something after that.”

“Okay, I stand like this?” Hunter asked.

“Yeah, and then you prop your elbow against the locker like this,” instructed Willow, guiding him into position. “And like you can put your other hand on your hip or something and then I’ll stand against my locker…” Willow carefully put herself between Hunter and the locker so she was looking up at him. “And there! Just like the movie poster.”

“So this is flirting? Standing like this?”

“Well, standing and talking technically,” said Willow. “But if we stand like this, everyone can tell just by looking at us that that’s what we’re doing. Like a real couple.”

“Okay,” said Hunter, starting to understand. “Do we have to say anything in particular?” “I dunno, maybe you can try and say something funny?” Willow suggested coyly as she twirled the end of her braid around her finger. “Oh, and twirling my hair will also let them know we’re flirting too.”

“Okay okay,” said Hunter. “But should it be funny like clever funny? Or something more low brow? A pun? Or maybe one of those door jokes?”

“Hmm, we can always just pretend you said something funny and I’ll do a fake laugh,” said Willow.

“Wait, am I not funny?” he said with a fake scoff.

“I didn’t say that,” she said with a chuckle as she flicked his hair noodle.”You can be very funny.”

“That doesn’t sound like you think I’m funny,” he teased, absentmindedly leaning down closer to her.

“You are funny,” she insisted, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. “When you’re not trying to be.”

“When am I not trying?” he said, his voice carrying a certain twinkle in it.

“I dunno,” she said, wrinkling her nose at him. For some reason she felt bubbly, seeing Hunter pretend to act as though he was in disbelief. She felt like laughing now but tried to suppress it. Hunter noticed.

“You’re laughing right now!” he declared victoriously.

“I am not!” she denied, trying to hide her smile.

“Yes you are!” he said, adopting a chuckle of his own. “I know what your laugh sounds like, Captain!”

“Well, maybe I’m-.”

“You guys know Boscha’s been out of school all week with the common mold, right?” Gus asked, breaking the trance the pair had reentered with ease and had forgotten he was there.

Hunter offered him a quizzical look. “So?”

“Huh, no wonder things have been so peaceful around here,” Willow realized.

“Yeah, so without her around there’s no reason for you two to keep up this little act of yours,” Gus pointed out and Willow and Hunter realized they hadn't noticed Boscha’s absence because at some point they had stopped checking for her all together.

“Hmm, I guess you’re right…” said Willow slowly, wishing he wasn’t. “But, I mean, the common mold usually lasts a week so she’ll be back soon.”

“Yeah,” Hunter agreed. “Plus, she might have spies reporting back to her while she’s out.”

“Spies?” Gus said, unconvinced with a rise of his eyebrow. “Really?”

“I mean, that does sound like Boscha,” said Willow. “Having…spies.” She knew it sounded silly. She knew what Boscha was capable of, but even that was a stretch. Hunter stopped leaning against the locker and stood up straight, trying to read Willow’s expression.

“Congrats on being voted cutest couple!” Skara squeaked in delight as she bounced at them from seeming nowhere.

“What?” they exclaimed in unison.

“Awh!” Skara gushed. “You two are so in sync! So cute!”

“Skara, what do you mean-.”

“Just look!” she said happily, handing them a piece of paper. “It’s just a mock up, but that’s what it’s gonna be in the year book! I wanted to be the first to tell you, ya know in case you wanted to use a different picture or something.”

Willow looked down at the photo Skara had chosen. It was a photo of them after a flyer derby match, the photo captured Willow tackling him in a hug to celebrate their victory as Hunter caught her in his arms and spun her around, wearing a wide smile to match hers. They were looking at each other, totally unaware a photo was even being taken. He remembered that day, he could hear their laughter echoing as he spun her too quickly and they had fallen onto the ground right after the moment the photo was taken. He vividly remembered the smell of grass, the way the setting sun rested in her hair, and the way the sound of her laughter made his heart skip a beat. The picture was taken well before they had started “dating” and yet…

“It’s perfect Skara,” said Willow, her tone much different from what it was mere moments ago. He wondered why they stopped flirting if it was meant to convince people they were together. He had been enjoying himself and now he felt guilty. His cowardice had made this whole thing spiral out of control, and now their lie was to be preserved forever. In the back of his mind he remembered that Willow liked someone else. They were supposed to break up once everyone was convinced. How had they gotten so off task? How could he let Willow keep bailing him out in such a major way?

As Skara ran back to the classroom, an unsettling silence floated between the pair. Had it been any other story, any other bit, they would’ve come clean by now, right?

They knew this. Gus had gone out of his way to remind them and they brushed it off. But now, it was hard to deny it was a harmless but. It was a pretty big commitment for someone you weren’t committed to.

Willow had done all that for him and he couldn’t even be honest with her. He at least owed her that much.

“Wow,” Willow chuckled nervously, trying to fill the silence. “That’s uh, that’s a pretty big honor.”

“Yeah,” Hunter agreed, searching his mind for how to word what he really needed to say.

“I’m sure Amity will have something to say about it,” Willow chuckled lightly. “Since she and Luz have been together longer. But Luz doesn’t even technically go here, and I don’t think anyone would-.”

“I don’t wanna lie anymore.”

She looked up to see Hunter’s face flushed, his fists balled at his sides as though it took all of his strength to bring out that sentence. Willow had to admit, it was not what she was expecting to hear. It was not what she was hoping to hear.

“Oh.” was all she could manage to say. She didn’t need to ask what he meant. She could ask why, but she didn’t think she was up to it. “Um, okay.”

The bell screamed as Willow tried to process the whiplash that had just occurred. She could tell Hunter had more to say, but she felt as thought she had lost the ability to hear as static echoed in her mind. She was sure she said something about having to get to class, but she felt as though she was outside her body watching a blurry reenactment of a scene as her feet carried her away. They had joked about breaking up, because it was a joke. Because there was nothing really to break up. But then, why did it feel so real?

---

A few days went by and Willow and Hunter didn’t speak. He wasn’t waiting by her locker after class and miss practice after school. She assumed he needed space or assumed he assumed she needed it, but either way it was there. She knew the mature thing was to discuss the next steps, the story they would tell she had gotten so used to their new routine she had never prepared herself for its end. She thought he felt the same way.

“Well well well, if it isn’t Hexside’s most famous half-a-witch.” came a shrill voice Willow hadn’t heard in weeks interrupting her thoughts. She tried to ignore her, she knew that’s what was best. But of course, her timing was impeccable.

“Where’s your loser boyfriend?” sneered Boscha, following her victim down the hall, having much lost time to make up for. “Oh let me guess, he finally dumped you right? He realized what a loser you really were and decided to cut his losses?”

Unbeknownst to Willow, Hunter was hiding nearby working up the courage to greet her by her locker to try and explain himself. He had tried writing another note, but this time would read from it instead of trying to get it to carry more than it should by itself. But he heard Boscha beat him to the location and any nervousness left his body and was promptly replaced by fury. He knew Willow could handle herself, but he knew his lie added fuel to the fire that were her words.

“It’s really none of your business, Boscha.”

“I’m right though, aren’t I? I knew there was no way someone like you could convince anyone to date them. What, did he lose a bet or something?”

Willow kept walking. Hunter wanted to scream. Boshca knew it wasn’t true and Willow was smarter than Bocha, surely she knew it too right? Surely she knew.

“Didn’t you learn your lesson last time, half-a-witch?” snickers Boscha. “The only way someone would ever date you would be as part of a joke. No doubt he got sick of having to see you everyday and realized-.”

Before he knew what he was doing, Hunter teleported beside Willow who looked surprised to see him. Before she could greet him or question him or say much of anything, he placed his hand on the side of her face and pulled her close to him as she had done that day after the party.

But with one tiny major difference.

Willow quickly got over her surprise and leaned into the accidental kiss, dropping the books in her arm to the ground as she elected to rest her hands on Hunter’s chest, clinging to his shirt collar. He held her face in his hands like it was something delicate as their noses nestled beside each other like puzzle pieces meant to be like that. Willow did not need to rise to her tip toes to kiss him better as he leaned down to be closer to her and her foot popped in the air as his hold on her grew more secure. His lips were dry but surprisingly gentle as they found a comfortable placement against hers. Emotions of surprise and hesitation melted away as they had no place in a moment like this.

At some point during all of this, Bocha had left. Her grumbles and rude comments had gone unheard by the pair, far too engrossed in each other to consider there was anything else in the world worth caring about.

Somehow Hunter managed to stop himself in the middle of what felt like a familiar yet impossible dream. He pulled back to see Willow’s eyes closed and her face flushed as reality caught up with him and prevented him from savoring the moment further. “Oh no, I didn’t do the thing.”

“Really? I think you kinda did.” Willow giggled, looking at him with dreamy eyes, feeling like her chest was a fire bee hive as she allowed Hunter to be her balance, leaning forward happily to be caught any way he intended to catch her.

“No I mean the thing with my thumbs so I wouldn’t… so we wouldn’t…”

“But we did.” She said plainly, averting her gaze and playing with a loose thread on his uniform by his shoulder, she couldn’t bring herself to leave the bubble just yet. “Is that… okay?”

“I mean I… I don’t mind but I know that we’re technically broken up I think and that we were never even… I’m sorry,” he cast his eyes to the ground, and removed his hands from her face. “I-I just heard Boscha saying those awful things to you and I-I don’t know what came over me.”

“Don’t be sorry,” said Willow quickly, turning his face back to her to see his eyes. “For any of it. You just… got caught up in the moment. I’m sure I would’ve done the same thing.”

“Really?” Hunter squeaked and Willow nodded, her hand still resting on his check. “The uh… the exact same thing?”

Willow bit her lip as she moved her hand from his face to the back of his neck. Her other hand still had a steady hold of his collar and she planned to bring him back down to her to answer him without words but before she summoned the courage to do so, a loud gruff voice broke through their bubble as it flooded the hallway.

“Hey you two! Did you not hear the bell?” The voice demanded. They hadn’t, there were more important things holding their attention. So of course they didn’t know there was no one else left in the hallway.

Except a very grumpy teacher who did not find lateness romantic.

“You’re late to class! Detention, both of you!”

---

“Willow, I… I owe you an apology.” Hunter said as they sat beside each other in detention, whispering as to not wake the teacher at the front of the classroom.

“Hunter, it’s okay,” she whispered back. “It’s not the first time I’ve gotten detention.”

“No, not about that,” replied Hunter. “Well, yes about that too actually but I mean when I said I didn’t wanna lie anymore, I meant I didn’t want to lie to you anymore.”

“What? How were you-?”

He took a deep breath. “Okay, the truth is, I did run into Boscha that day,” he said quickly, trying to keep his voice steady. “But she didn’t ask me out… she caught me trying to ask you out.”

“What?”

“I was trying to put this in your locker,” he began, taking out the carefully folded note from his pocket and handing it to her. He had kept it, hoping there would be a right time for it. Hopefully this was it. “Because I didn’t know how else to do it and I thought it would be easier but she caught me and read it and threatened to tell everyone and I asked her not to because I didn’t want-

“People to know?”

“-you to think it wasn’t true,” he finished. “I-I thought if you heard that I liked you from Boscha, you’d never believe it since she’s always lying. And I didn’t wanna mess it up again so I panicked and that’s when I told her-.”

“Wait, ‘again?’” Willow repeated, confused. “What do you mean ‘again?’ When did you- oh! Do you mean your… wait.”

Her eyes told Hunter she knew exactly what he was referring to. He held his breath. “You did get it.”

“I did,” she said with a smile finding the answer to her question in his wide eyes. “I just… well, your autocorrect was always doing weird things and I didn’t want to assume… I mean not that I didn’t want to assume but I…”

She had hoped.

“But it doesn’t matter,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have let this go on as king as it did, I’ve caused you so much trouble. You can keep the tickets, you can take Gus. I just… hope you’re not too mad and that maybe eventually we can-.”

“Hunter, when exactly did the thing with Boscha happen?”

“Um about three weeks ago?”

“And you bought the flyer derby tickets for us to make it look like we were dating?”

“Well, I mean I knew you’d been wanting to go so I thought it would be a fun way to say thanks for being a great girlfriend.”

That was technically not a lie. He truly had been hoping he could say that by the time the event rolled around.

“But I guess what I’m asking is, when you bought the tickets you bought them with the intention of us going to the game as a date for Bleeding Hearts Day, right?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Hunter… the date on these tickets says they were purchased months ago.” Willow said with a smile.

“Well, it’s your favorite team playing their biggest rival so tickets we’re gonna sell out pretty quick and I wanted to make sure we got good seats so once it was announced I-.”

“But… you couldn’t have known months in advance that we would pretend to be dating when the game was happening,” Willow pointed out, a deep blush covering her face.

“You… you knew?”

“Kinda? I mean, I knew a little bit,” she admitted. “I didn’t actually know what I knew but I… uh, anyway.” She cleared her throat as she tried to steady her voice. “What I do know is, I’ve really liked getting to be your girlfriend.”

“Oh uh, good. I’m glad I… just wanted to make sure you were uh…”

“I also know that I don’t wanna lie anymore either,” she said softly, inching her chair closer to his.

“Oh, yeah of course I mean I understand if you just want to-.”

She placed her hand atop his on the table, effortlessly lacing their fingers together. “So let’s stop lying.”

He looked down at their hands in awe. A part of him wanted to make an excuse, to link it to their ruse. But a louder, kinder voice in his mind told him to squeeze her hand back. That so many words weren’t needed right now, to stop complicating it. Questions rolled around his brain trying to make him doubt this was what it was but he pushed them back, but then one slipped through the cracks.

“But what about… the other person you like?” He asked sheepishly. “Don’t you… I mean, aren’t they…?”

Willow looked at him with playful eyes as she bit her lip and Hunter felt like the smartest and stupidest person in the world.

And also the luckiest.

“Oh.” He said, understanding her look and not questioning it. His face was red and he knew it but didn’t care. He tried to summon the coolness he was convinced he had when they were only pretending. “Don’t you uh, wanna read the note first?”

“How about you summarize it for me?” She smiled.

“Okay uh…” he tried to pick his favorite metaphor when he realized he was doing it again. She didn’t mind that he was complicated and careful in fact she liked it. She liked him. And she was waiting for him. “Willow, would you wanna… go on a date… with me?”

“I’d love to Hunter,” she said softly, and he felt as though he heart was melting and exploding at the same time. “Lucky for you, I happen to have two great seats for a flyer derby game this weekend.”

“Wow, what’re the odds?” He chuckled, over the moon to find them back in their rhythm as he rested his head on his hand, admiring the scene finally presented in reality.

“Ya know, this means you’ll have to actually ask for my dads blessing for real then right?”

Hunter beamed, his face envied the suns brightness at her response. “I’ll go as soon as we’re out of here,” he assured, his heart racing at securing her blessing to ask for his blessing.

“Great, so you can explain to them why I got detention today,” she said, with a wink. Hunter laughed before realizing Willow was in detention because she had gotten caught kissing him. Not exactly the first impression Hunter was hoping to present as a suitor.

Maybe he’d ask her dads after their first date, just in case.

#huntlow #huntlow fanfiction #winter toh #toh #the owl house #willow park #hunter toh

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simping-for-joe · 11 months

Text

Take a Deep Breath

Leon Kennedy X Dyslexic! Reader

You decided to put something together without help but struggle with the instructions the day escalates from there

A/N: So fun story, I have dyslexia, and a lot of times when I see neurodivergent reader, it's not really included so I said fuck it and wrote it myself. This is based on a general experience I've had with dyslexia. I tried my best to communicate what it feels like for me personally. Sorry, this is like really specific and I'm probably the only one who wants this.

You had decided it was a good idea to try to put together a nightstand while Leon was at work today. You had the day off and decided to do a few things around the house. Leon and you just moved into a new apartment and needed a new nightstand.

You open the box with some scissors and take out the instructions. You take out all the parts, as well as get the tools the paper told you to grab. A smile on your face as it seemed like this would be easier than you thought.

“Okay…” You're about a third step in, and you read the instructions…. You read it again… you read it one last time. “W-what?” You look at the picture and… it was no help. “Am I dumb?” You ask yourself slightly annoyed. You take a deep breath slightly annoyed before you start to read it out slowly. “Connect part C to part D… but how the hell…” It was so vague you weren’t sure how you were supposed to exactly attach them and the picture was absolutely no help whatsoever. That good mood was almost completely gone, but you were still determined to do this. It would be a nice surprise for Leon and maybe you could figure this out.

You needed a break so you were in the kitchen scrolling through your phone, you were beyond frustrated and started to get a little shouty with the instructions. It probably didn’t help that anytime you’ve ever built furniture it was with someone else. You wanted to slam your forehead against the countertop, but you get distracted by the sound of the front door opening.

“I’m home!” Leon calls when he notices you're right in the kitchen. He chuckles a little before you hug him tightly. "How was your day?" He asks softly as he hugs you back.

"Actually... I was hoping to get your help with something." You bring up to him.

"What is it?" He asks curiously as you guide him to your bedroom. He looked in and that answered his question.

"I... I need you to read this." You hand him the directions slightly embarrassed. He just takes the paper and reads the instructions out to you. You listen, think for a moment... and find you are still lost. Leon chuckles softly, and motions for you to watch him do it. You watch as he effortlessly puts together the last part you need to complete the nightstand.

Annoyance and embarrassment fills you as you realize how simple it was to finish the nightstand. Leon gives you a reassuring smile.

"It's alright," he attempts to assure you and kisses your forehead to make you forget your emotions on the matter and make you feel a bit better.

Leon makes the decision to go grocery shopping to distract you from the whole nightstand thing. You had written a list earlier in the day, and it seemed like a good idea.

However, as you're walking through the store and you ask Leon for the next item on the list, he's stumped.

"Leon?" You ask softly, and he looks to you.

"Um... sweetheart, what does this say?" He asks you showing you the paper and you honestly have no clue. You cannot tell what the hell you wrote on that paper.

"I have... no fucking clue." You say softly in shock as you take the paper from him trying your hardest to remember. Sometimes when you spelled things wrong you could remember what you were trying to say, this was not one of those times. You groan out annoyed, and want to hit something.

"Hey... are you okay?" He asks you softly.

"No! I fucking hate having dyslexia, it fucking sicks!" You stop and sigh out annoyed. "Sucks... I meant sucks..." A little defeated, you hang your head a bit.

"Come here, baby." He says softly pulling you into a hug. Embracing you tightly calming you down a bit. "Just take a deep breath..." He assures you gently.

"I'm sorry... it's just so frustrating sometimes..." You tried to explain, but it was annoying. You didn't hate your dyslexia, it was more complicated with that. You know on some level, you've grown used to your disability and you've learned to live with it. However, it still got in your way sometimes.

"I know..." He assures you gently, kissing your forehead. "This stuff happens sometimes, and that's okay. Don't beat yourself up about it okay?" You nod gently embracing him tightly.

"Thanks, Leon..." You smile looking up at you fondly.

"It's no problem love... now, let's try to figure out what's on this list." He jokes getting a chuckle and a smile from you finally.

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #fanfic #neurodivergent #x reader #this is self indulgent #dyslexia #this is so specific #i dont know #this is just me #being weird #and dyslexic

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hxney-lemcn · 2 years

Text

Too Cute <3 — Alex [Adult World] x gn! reader

summary: Just some workplace fluff with Alex <;3

tw: none

a/n: Prompts are highlighted and from here.

wc: 0.6k

Master List

Another day, another shift. Something the world doesn’t talk about enough is what happens when you try, and fail. All my life, I wanted a good job with decent pay, I tried my hardest in highschool, and even graduated college! Yet all that hard work seemed to be down the drain. I made connections, I applied to jobs, and it was always “Thank you for applying, but you’re not what we’re looking for”. It was even like that for entry level jobs! And I had previous experience! It was infuriating. If I didn’t get money soon, I’d be out on the streets.

Which led me to my current prediction. I worked at a porn shop. Which wasn’t as terrible as it sounds. Yeah, some of the customers were weird, but at least your coworker and manager, Alex, was there to make you forget that you were technically even working. With good pay, and a good environment, I suppose I didn’t have much to complain about. Yeah, it was embarrassing to tell people where I worked, and I tried to avoid the topic, but like I said, the pay was good. I suppose only having to pay two workers meant you could treat them better.

I let out a sigh of boredom as I scrolled through my social media. My head darted up at the sound of a door opening, smiling softly as a familiar man with fluffy brown hair came out of the back room. Alex was carrying a box and set it on the ground with a huff. Must be new videos that came in.

“Want any help?” I asked, not wanting to sit around while he does all the work.

Alex pretended to think for a second before saying, “Youuuuuu could clean the bathroom before we close.”

I frowned, staring at him with pleading eyes, but his puppy dog eyes were more powerful and I spoke without thinking, “You’re lucky that you’re cute.”

I got up from my stool and put my phone in my pocket, but before I could make my way to the closet Alex replied, “Wait, you think I’m cute?”

I felt myself freeze, not even realizing that I said that outloud. I bit my lip, trying to think of a way I could play this cool. Glancing back at him, I tried to give him the most natural smile I could muster.

“Yeah, who wouldn’t?” I asked with a shrug, continuing to the closet to grab the cleaning supplies. As I cleaned the bathroom, I was internally screaming at myself. Did I just make things weird? I mean yeah, we’re friends, but he’s also my manager. I took a deep breath and let it out, trying to calm myself down. I’ll just act like nothing happened, and maybe everything will be fine. Yeah, that’s totally what’s going to happen.

It took me a bit to clean the bathroom. I tried to ignore the nausea that filled me at every unsanitary thing I had to clean. I forgot all about the little predicament that happened before. The need to leave that bathroom was the only thing filling my mind. I took in a deep breath as I exited the bathroom, Alex counting the register came into view.

“I can’t believe you made me do that,” I groaned, acting like I didn’t do that every close shift.

“You’ll live,” Alex laughed lightly, taking a glance at me before finishing the count. I tossed the bucket, gloves, and cleaning supplies back into the closet.

“I suppose it isn’t that bad here,” I said, locking the front door. I turned back to face Alex as he put the deposit into an envelope.

“It’s better with you here,” He replied nonchalantly, sending me one of his heart warming smiles. I felt myself warm at the sentiment and I smiled sheepishly back. “C’mon, let's get out of here.”

This may not be the life I envisioned, but you know what? It’s really not that bad.

#alex adult world #alex adult world x reader #evan peters #evan peters x reader #kit walker #kit walker x reader #tate langdon #tate langdon x reader #kyle spencer #kyle spencer x reader #jimmy darling #jimmy darling x reader #x reader #xreader #x you #imagine #imagines #one shot #oneshot

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lilysaus · 1 year

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okay. this fucking picture made me so mad i went on a 15 minute rant to my sister while she was trying to read her book.

so ive been looking at a lot of pictures of posts on pinterest because thats just where i spend most of my time. most of these posts are on the topic of adhd. ive never been properly diagnosed, but reading through these posts has made me feel so welcomed and understood (more than my parents have made me feel, pretending that this is "all just a phase that ill get over soon because pretending to have adhd is just the thing right now") that i realized ON MY OWN that "hey maybe i do have adhd." well.

i found this post while scrolling through pinterest, and it really sparked my anger.

i have a friend who was diagnosed with add before it was considered an "outdated" term and scrapped because apparently ALL FUCKING FORMS OF NEURODIVERGENCY THAT ARENT AUTISM ARE JUST "ADHD".

i read this post and it was what sparked my anger and my 15 minute rant to my sister. people who get degrees in this stuff, or counselors at schools, never really know what youre going through. all they know is that youre having some problems and they need to be solved.

which brings me back to this picture. if you look up "is add still a thing" on google, this is the first picture to pop up. and just seeing the visual aids they put with it makes me furious enough to throw something or someone out a fifth story window. the little girl is fucking SMILING while thinking about the most common shit people think us neurodivergent folks think when distracted. first off, no. false. we dont just think of video games and candy. we think of the randomest shit possible, like how long can i sit here without blinking or what kind of funny shit can i draw on this one sheet of paper.

and ALSO.

you cant just categorize adhd as TWO SEPARATE THINGS and call it good. we dont fit under two umbrellas. theres too many of us. we each have our own figurative umbrellas that only we ourselves can fit under, no one else. thats the problem with neurotypicals. they fit the typical stereotype for humans: we try to understand everything by putting it in a box. those lists of "symptoms"? i match every single one. on both sides. so ha. take that SCIENTISTS. what am i? some kind of freak of nature because i dont fit under just ONE of your precious categories?

i also looked up what "inattentive" means and it made me angrier. according to oxford languages, "inattentive" means "not paying attention to something", which doesnt seem too bad, right? it fits some people perfectly with their symptoms, right? but its not the definition that bugs me. its the example sentence thats used. "a particularly dull and inattentive student". basically saying that if you dont pay attention well to something, youre dull and boring.

im sorry, what? sometimes i have trouble paying attention, sure, but you ask any of my friends and they can agree i am NOT boring in any way, shape, or form. non of them would describe me as "dull". inattentive? sure, but not dull. so to call it "inattentive" adhd, instead of just add, is stupid! my friend with ADD (not fucking adhd, stupid scientists) is one of the funniest, most entertaining people ive ever met. shes an incredible artist, super smart, and knows how to make anyone laugh. does that sound dull to you? does she have problems focusing sometimes? yes. does she struggle with doing something sometimes? yes. but dont the rest of us?

my point is, when i see things like this, it pisses me off. like, unless all of the scientists who agreed "add" is an outdated term have it themselves, i refuse to believe its outdated and i will continue to say that my friend has it. she was literally diagnosed by the doctor telling her "you have attention deficit and hyperactivity disorder without the hyperactivity." THATS JUST FUCKING ATTENTION DEFICIT DISORDER YOU DUMBASS!!!

anyway, i hope im not the only one who feels this way. i just felt it necessary to get this out there. maybe someday, people wont be so dumb and single minded. in my opinion, neurodivergent people are superior in intellect and creativity, but i guess until someone like that takes over the world and dropkicks neurotypicals into the stratosphere, we'll never know.

#adhd stuff #undiagnosed adhd #living with adhd #neurodivergence #neurodivergent #add #its called add not adhd #you dumbasses #scientists are stupid sometimes #make that all the time

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hide-in-imagination · 3 months

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“Roads That Cross… with a Phone Call” (Part 2)

You can read the previous chapters here: (1),(2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12), (13), (14), (15), (16), (17), (18), (19), (20), (21), (22), (23), (24), (25), (26), (27), (28), (29), (30), (31)

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

Ámbar had to give her thanks to Simón— The extra sleep really made her feel better throughout the day.

She also had to tease him for inciting her to break the rules. Who was he and what had he done with her boyfriend? ‘If we don’t tell Vidia, they won’t know you skipped work.’ Oh, he was a bad influence. (And she loved it.)

Of course the only times he chose to be even a little incorrect were when it was for someone else’s sake, she thought with exasperated fondness— First with that music video they filmed at the Roller behind everyone’s backs and now with her. Ámbar shook her head with a smile. He was incorrigible, her boyfriend.

Ámbar sent him a text to have lunch together (actually eat food) and Simón didn’t reply. Maybe he was busy.

She sent some memes throughout the afternoon, then another text asking if he could start helping her with the decorations that evening once he got to the mansion. He didn’t answer that one either.

That was odd. Her messages didn’t even appear as ‘read’— Was the Roller really that busy? Well, it had rained for a couple of hours, that always brought in an influx of people. She found solace in the fact that if it was really bad, one of the guys would’ve called her over, and they didn’t, so it had to be manageable.

Still, Ámbar figured that, with all that work, it would be unfair to ask him to do even more, so around 6pm, she put all the half-made decorations she was working on in a cardboard box and carried them up to her room. Simón could help her some other day. Or maybe Mónica could help her? She had already offered her help the other day, and Ámbar only said no to be polite, but if they were both at the house and she wanted to do it, why not?

Ámbar left the box on her little center table and went to wash her hands. Once she walked out of her en-suite bathroom, she grabbed her laptop and brought it to her bed. She allowed herself fifteen minutes of mindless scrolling through social media, as a treat, before getting to the emails she had to reply to.

That was what she was doing when she heard her bedroom door open.

“Oh, hi, my love,” Ámbar greeted quickly. She brought her gaze back to the screen. “Give me one second, I gotta send this document… Okay, done.”

She put her laptop aside and got up to greet her boyfriend the correct way. “Hi, welcome back.”

Ámbar went for a kiss, but Simón moved his head to the side, dodging the contact. Her hands, too, which had risen to cup his neck, grasped nothing but air as he took a step back, putting space between them.

Immediately, a pang of worry ran Ámbar through.

“Is something wrong?”

Simón wasn’t looking at her. His face was turned away from her and there was tension in the lines of his body, though nothing that indicated a particular emotion.

His voice, when it came, was deceptively level.

“I talked to Emilia today.”

Ámbar felt too much in the span of an instant.

The Earth cracked open, time stopped, her heart stopped. All in one second.

Time didn’t even grant her the mercy of actually stopping so she could process it all— It kept going, relentlessly, viciously, hand in hand with Simón, who was still talking.

“I didn’t think it was fair that she was harassing you when you haven’t done anything to her, so I went to tell her that what she was doing was wrong,” he said, “but she showed me her phone’s call history and, turns out, your name what nowhere to be found, Ámbar.” Finally, his eyes turned in her direction. “Could you explain that to me?”

Dry. Her mouth was dry. She felt incredibly cold, yet almost feverish at the same time. Her thoughts were a mess, a muddled cacophony of different iterations of— why, why, why, wHy, wHY, why, WHY, this wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Why did you talk to Emilia? I told you it wasn’t necessary,” she said calmly.

“Not necessary because she didn’t call you,” Simón said. “Right?” Now his voice took a harder edge. “Ámbar, why did you lie to me? Please explain it to me because I don’t understand. Do you have any idea how humiliating it was for me to be standing in front of Emilia, defending you, only to find out the call wasn’t even real?” He complained. “I looked like a complete moron, Ámbar.”

“I didn’t ask you to defend me.” The cold was gone now. Fire was taking over. Anger. “In fact, I specifically told you to stay out of it, that I would deal with it myself.”

“Right,” Simón huffed. “You wanted me to stay out of it so I wouldn’t find out the truth, didn’t you?”

“No.” It surprised even her how easily it came out, how certain. “Emilia could’ve deleted her phone’s call history, it’s not hard.”

“Ámbar.” He didn’t say it but his voice had the intonation of ‘cut the crap.’ “Why would she do that?”

“To mess with me,” she said as if it were evident. “To mess with both of us— To make us fight.”

“And how would she know I was going to look at her phone?” Simón questioned with logic. “Why would she even delete it? Emilia has done much worse things than calling you. Plus— you hung up that call the very second you saw me come in,” he pointed out. “You were visibly nervous when I asked you who you were talking to. Are you going to tell me all of that is just coincidence?”

Ámbar’s heart was speeding at 80 miles per hour. She had to lie. She had to maintain this narrative or everything would come crashing down. Simón couldn’t find out who she was talking to. But how was she even going to convince him? Simón wasn’t stupid. And she couldn’t keep lying to him forever. She didn’t want to keep lying to him forever.

I have to lie.

I can’t.

There were two big forces inside of her and neither of them could win.

Her silence gave Simón all the answers that he needed.

“Why did you lie to me?” He asked her again. “Who were you really talking to on the phone?”

This is all your fault.

“Why do you need to know?” Ámbar challenged, her words sharp as knives. “Are you controlling me now? Are you gonna keep watch on my every move? Who I speak to, where I go to? You wanna check my phone as well?”

Simón scrunched up his face. “This isnot about that!”

“It is precisely about that!” She raged. “I told you not to meddle and you went and did it anyway!”

This is all your fault. Everything was fine. Everything was great. If you had just listened to me. Everything was under control. Why didn’t you listen to me ?!

“Because I thought you didn’t want me to as to not trouble me! But no. It wasn’t because of that,” Simón said with irony. “You didn’t want me to talk to Emilia because it was a lie that she called you. Can you stop trying to twist things already and just tell me why you lied?” He demanded.

Ámbar snapped.

“Maybe because I knew you’re an exasperating busybody who wouldn’t stop pestering me until I gave you a name! But I didn’t want to tell you who I was talking to, Simón, as simple as that: I. didn’t. want to. And you wanna know why?” She spat with venom. “Because I don’t have to tell you everything I do, Simón! Not everything is your business!”

Hurt flashed through Simón’s eyes, and he almost recoiled.

Ámbar felt a cut even though she’d been the one to wield the knife.

The sting awakened her.

Wait.

Her hands were covered in blood.

No.

Simón’s face closed up, all the way to a constructed expression of impassiveness. It was cold and firm like an iron wall. It looked wrong. That kind of face didn’t belong in him. Simón was supposed to smile and dream big, or burn in rightful anger when a wrongdoing had occurred. He was supposed to be bravely vulnerable, not toughen up to hide his feelings. This wasn’t him.

What have I done to you?

Simón nodded slowly to himself. “Okay.” His voice was low but final. “You don’t want to tell me? Don’t tell me. You have that right,” he said. “But don’t lie to me, Ámbar.”

Every cell in her body had lost the will to fight. She felt like just an empty carcass, a sack of flesh and bone and self-loathing.

Her head nodded weakly. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. She should’ve said it with more strength, but it came out shaky as she was suddenly overcome with guilt, and fear. She looked down. “You’re right. You’re completely right. I’m sorry.”

She couldn’t look him in the eye. She’d ruined everything. She’d hurt him. How could she fix this? Could she fix this?

Before she could find more to say, Simón’s feet stepped out of her vision. Ámbar whipped her head up. He was walking to the door.

Her fear kicked into panic.

“Simón—"

“I’m going to my room,” he said flatly.

The door opened and she ran to him. “Nonono, wait, please, let’s talk about this, seriously—”

“See you tomorrow, Ámbar,” he said without turning.

The door closed behind Simón’s back.

Ámbar took in a shuddering breath, loud in the silence that followed. Her mind was reeling. Her body was shaking.

What the fuck did I just do?

Her gaze clouded over and the tears burned on their way down, and Ámbar fought them, because she didn’t feel she had the right to cry.

This is all your fault.

Yes.

It was all her fault.

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

Simón turned on the light of the guest room and just stood there for a moment, looking at all the free space, the furniture too perfectly intact as if it’d never been used, making the room feel sterile and too quiet.

He kicked off his shoes and went to lay on the bed, the one that didn’t even feel ‘his’, that never had, and tried to forget about the few times he’d used it, the reason why it felt so deeply wrong to be on it alone.

His eyes burned but he pushed the tears back. He was not going to cry. Ámbar was the one who lied, not him— Why did he have to feel miserable?

‘Maybe because I knew you’re an exasperating busybody who wouldn’t stop pestering me until I gave you a name!’

‘Not everything is your business!’

Simón sat up, as if with the movement he could push the memory away. He felt like he’d been kicked in the ribs. He never would’ve imagined Ámbar would respond to him like that.

And it hurt, so much so that his throat closed up, because he’d only meant to help— He had good intentions.

But it didn’t matter because it had all gone to hell. Not only there was nothing to defend Ámbar from (and she was right, she never asked him to, why did he do it?) but also his stupid good intentions had gotten Ámbar completely fed up with him, and judging by how she called him a busybody, it wasn’t the first time.

Now he couldn’t help but look back on all their history and see things in a new, darker light. He remembered all those times last year when he kept asking her if she was okay, if she wanted to talk, insisting even after she told him she was fine because he wanted to help her. Had she thought he was annoying even back then? How long had this been coming from?

Don’t focus on that, his brain protested with indignation. She was the one who lied— She is in the wrong here.

But I was wrong too, I had no right to meddle in her affairs like that, she’s right to be mad at me.

No, she’s not, his own anger countered. You wouldn’t have learned the truth if you hadn’t done that.

But does that justify me?

‘Not everything is your business!’

Simón ran a hand through his hair, hard. What should he have done then? If he hadn’t talked to Emilia, he never would’ve found out the truth, but for doing that, he was a busybody— There was no way to win. Either case was bad.

Should he not have asked Ámbar who she was talking to in the first place? When she said it was nothing important, should he had just left it at that? Was it really nosy on his part to probe further?

No. Hard as he tried, he couldn’t not find it suspicious that Ámbar hung up the instant she heard him come in, without even a goodbye. That wasn’t normal. She was hiding something, and her lying about it was only proof of that.

But he already knew she was hiding things, didn’t he? She told him. Ámbar told him there were things she couldn’t say but that she’d tell him eventually, and he agreed to wait.

But he never agreed to her lying to him. He thought at least they were being honest with each other, but apparently not. Hell—Was it even true that she would tell him eventually? Or was that just another lie?

He just couldn’t understand why she couldn’t just tell him. Especially since, apparently, there was someone else who she was talking to about it. How could it be possible that she couldn’t tell him yet but she could talk about it with some other person? That didn’t sound like the deep emotional issues Simón thought she wasn’t ready to share— It sounded like a two-way secret, and what two-way secret could she have that she wouldn’t want him to know about?

Maybe she’s cheating on me.

Simón shut his eyes tight and rubbed his face. He didn’t want to be thinking these things. He couldn’t believe he was thinking these things— It was ridiculous. He trusted Ámbar. She couldn’t have done something bad because she had changed. She didn’t do those things anymore.

But he also thought she wouldn’t lie to him again, and he was wrong.

Simón laid down on his side, staring at the wall. He had wanted so much for this to just be a mistake somehow, for there to be some magical explanation that, while wouldn’t justify lying to him, could at least help him understand and sympathize, and if Ámbar had just apologized, he would’ve forgiven her.

But not only she didn’t apologize, he also still didn’t know who she’d been talking to on the phone, and now he felt bad for wanting to know.

He didn’t think he was being a busybody, but what if he was? Simón never kept any secrets from his friends, and they told him everything too, that was the way of things he was used to, but maybe it was wrong to expect everyone to be like that. People had different views on things. Maybe it was healthy in a relationship for each of them to keep some things only for themselves and he wasn’t getting the memo. Admittedly he had never been in a serious relationship like this before, maybe he had a different idea of how they were supposed to work.

But he didn’t want there to be any secrets. He wanted to be able to share everything with Ámbar, and he wanted her to feel like she could share everything with him too. It wasn’t out of being nosy or clingy, he just… wanted to feel that closeness. He wanted to feel like she trusted him, cared for him, that he was important to her.

But did she need to tell him everything for him to feel that? Maybe he did have a problem. Maybe he’d gotten too presumptuous, so high on this sense of superiority, believing no one else knew Ámbar like he did, that only he knew the real her, that he couldn’t phantom her not wanting to tell him something or talking about it to somebody else.

Did he know Ámbar better than anyone else? And if he did, shouldn’t he just be grateful of the trust she’d already placed on him instead of assuming he was entitled to more?

Simón didn’t feel like he was asking for too much though. He felt like he was asking for the bare minimum and getting a door slammed on his face. Over and over. And he couldn’t keep doing this forever.

Simón closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep. He didn’t even want to have dinner— He just wanted this day to be over.

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

Ámbar had a whole night to think, and she came to the conclusion that she was remarkably stupid.

The moment Simón found out about the lie yesterday, she should’ve grovelled at his feet, begged him to forgive her, promise to do everything in her power to make up for it, because she loved him, she didn’t want to lose him.

But what did she do? Turn all the blame on him and attack him. It made no sense— What was wrong with her? Now he would definitely want to leave her.

Maybe he should.

Ámbar didn’t even want to get out of bed the next morning but she did. She got dressed, put on some makeup to not look as destroyed as she felt, and went down to the dining room even earlier than she usually did, all with the hope of getting to talk to Simón.

She had done something similar last night too. She had erased the evidence of her crying, put on a brave face as if nothing was wrong, and gone down to the dining room in hopes of catching Simón after dinner. It was the last thing she had wanted to do, to be honest— Be around people when all she truly wanted was to lock herself up in her room and cry. But the urge to apologize to Simón as soon as possible was stronger, so she went.

But Simón hadn’t come down for dinner. So Ámbar had to sit there, with the empty chair next to her, and answer to everyone why Simón was absent, because of course they asked her.

Because I treated him like shit, that’s why.

She just said that he was tired and had a bit of a headache, so he had preferred to sleep it off. She hoped he didn’t mind she had lied for him, but gotten to that point, it didn’t matter— He was already mad at her.

If anyone noticed that her eyes looked more watery than usual, they didn’t comment on it.

So here she was again now, sitting at the dinner table, lying in wait with an untouched cup of tea between her hands.

It was a good thing Simón hadn’t shown up last night, she realized later. It had been impulsive on her part to want to speak to him immediately when she hadn’t even thought about what she was going to say. She’d only been thinking about alleviating her own guilt for the awful things she said to him, but the truth was, that wasn’t even the main issue.

‘Why did you lie to me?’

Ámbar spent a long portion of the night thinking about what to do. The obvious answer was to just tell Simón the truth, the whole truth, once and for all, and just put a stop to all the lying and secrecy. But if she did that, not only would Sharon never forgive her, she didn’t know how the rest of the family would react, and she feared she would lose Simón forever.

She believed the family would forgive her. They were good to a fault after all— If they forgave Rey once, they could do the same with her. But could she really live with being the reason her godmother went to prison? Why did that decision had to fall on her hands? Why did she have to choose between the woman who raised her and the family who accepted her? It wasn’t fair.

And even if she did the right thing— Because she knew it was the right thing to give Sharon away, to let her pay for her crimes— her only prize would be to disappoint the one person who believed in her when no one else did, who defender her against everyone, who loved her even with her heinous past, and who she loved more than anything.

Ámbar wasn’t ready for that. God forgive her but she couldn’t do that.

So… she could either give a half-truth or stay silent. If Simón didn’t insist on knowing who she’d been speaking to on the phone— Which was unlikely— Ámbar could just not volunteer any information and let the topic die. If he did want to know… She could say it was Sharon, but that it was the first time she had contacted her since they came back to Buenos Aires. Ámbar had been nervous> she panicked> and that was why she lied. It wasn’t that far from the truth.

It could even help her test the waters, maybe. She could see how he reacted to it, speak a bit about Sharon and how Ámbar still worried about her even after all the awful things she’d done. At the very least, it’d make it less of a surprise when she eventually revealed everything to him.

All of this depended on whether Simón would even want to talk to her though.

Ámbar came down to the dining room earlier than usual precisely to make sure Simón couldn’t avoid her by having breakfast before her, but there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t just take one look at her and walk away either way. Ámbar didn’t even know if she should follow him in that case or just let him be. A voice in her head said that if he wanted to avoid her, she should allow him to— Give him space, give him time— but she hadn’t even gotten the chance to give him a real apology yet, and without that, she feared he wouldn’t have any reason to want to talk to her, even if she gave him all the time and space in the world.

The sound of footsteps made Ámbar whip up her head, sit straighter, instantly at attention, but she recovered her breath when she saw it was just Luna, dressed in her Blake uniform.

“Oh, hi, Ámbar. Good morning,” Luna greeted her as she took a seat at the table, looking a bit surprised to see her. “You’re here so early, I thought you and Simón usually had breakfast a little later.”

The reminder hurt. Ámbar put on a fake smile to hide it. “I could tell you the same thing. Aren’t you always late to everything?”

Luna had been pouring herself a glass of juice and paused at that. Ámbar realized she might have spoken a little harsher than she should’ve and felt a little bad about it. Luna didn’t know what she was going through. “Um, I didn’t mean that as a jab,” she said more softly, “it’s just, you do seem to always be running from one place to another.”

“Nono, you’re right, I do have that tendency,” Luna said with an embarrassed little laugh. She placed the jug back on the center of the table and started filling her plate with medialunas and fruit. “But today I have my final History exam first thing in the morning and I can not be late for that, and I haven’t been doing so great with all those historical facts and things, so the nerves didn’t let me sleep much either… Anyway—" She cut herself off, realizing she was rambling. “Nina also offered to help me revise the materials before class, so here I am.”

“I hope you do well,” Ámbar told her. Things should go well for someone, at least.

“Thank you.” Luna glanced around. “And Simón? Why didn’t he come down with you? I thought you two always had breakfast together.”

Ámbar wished she would stop asking. “I didn’t want to wake him in case his head still hurt,” she made up an excuse. “But, who knows? Maybe he’ll show up any minute now with a voracious hunger after skipping dinner yesterday.”

Luna laughed. “He’ll probably want to eat a whole cow.”

Mónica walked into the dining room then. “Luna, less chat and more eating or you’re going to make Nina wait for you,” she chided her daughter gently, at which Luna started shoving food into her mouth. Mónica turned to Ámbar with a smile. “Good morning, Ámbar. How are you?”

Awful. “Just fine, Mónica, thank you.”

“You’re not going to eat anything?” The woman asked her with wrinkled brows, looking at her empty plate.

Ámbar’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh, yeah, obviously,” she said and reached for a random pastry to put on her plate. She did not, in fact, plan on eating anything— Her stomach was in complete knots, the cup of tea was more to warm up her hands than anything else, but she couldn’t say that. “I just got a little distracted talking to Luna.”

Mónica smiled and looked at them with a proud gaze. “I’m very happy you two can talk nicely to each other now,” she said, “but don’t forget to eat. You two are still growing and your body needs the nutrients.”

“Yes, mom,” Luna replied automatically.

Ámbar doubted she would grow more, but it was a nice sentiment, so she didn’t contradict Mónica.

The woman left after that, and about ten minutes and a bit of conversation about the preparations for the Roller Jam later, Luna got up too.

“It really is nice of you to be making a party inspired by México,” she told Ámbar before leaving, her voice and eyes earnest. “I’m sure Simón already told you, but we’re both very happy, so thank you.”

It took all of Ámbar not to break down right there. She swallowed. “No problem.”

Luna walked away and Ámbar was once more by herself in the dining room. That exam must’ve really been worrying her, Ámbar thought, or maybe she just had Luna’s absent-minded nature to thank, because she didn’t notice how Ámbar didn’t even touch the food in front of her.

It was hard to determine how much time passed after that, but eventually, she heard footsteps nearing again, and voices too. Ámbar’s heart started racing when she recognized them. It wasn't long before Matteo, Pedro, and Simón entered the dining room together.

“Good morning, Ámbar,” Pedro and Matteo greeted her casually as they went to take a seat at the table, across from her.

“Good morning,” Ámbar said to all three, but her timid eyes stayed on Simón, had flown to him the moment he walked in, and now she watched him, gauging his reaction and just how bad things were.

Simón wore an unreadable expression, not hostile, but not open either. His gaze had also fallen upon her as he walked in, but he lowered it now, keeping it that way as he went to take a seat too.

“Morning,” he murmured.

Good, at least he’s not ignoring me, Ámbar thought with some relief, but the feeling sunk into her stomach fairly quickly because Simón didn’t sit next to her as he always did. He sat next to Matteo, as far from her as he could be without separating from his friends, and poured himself some juice without meeting anyone’s eyes.

This did not go unnoticed. Ámbar could feel the stares of Pedro and Matteo instantly on her, surely wondering what was going on, but she wasn’t about to discuss the matter with them present. Matteo opened his mouth as if to ask but Ámbar pleaded with her eyes for him not to. Thankfully, he obeyed.

Everyone started having breakfast and the tension was palpable. Pedro, bless his soul, made casual conversation, asking Matteo about his university classes, and everything flowed easier from there. Simón even participated too, acting almost normal, but his smiles were few and far between, dimmed, and never directed at her.

Ámbar cursed her bad luck of not being able to talk to him in private. She’d been hoping that, since the guys didn’t know Simón was in his guest room (because he never was), they might come down without him, but of course she should’ve known Simón would hear them and tag along.

She tried making a comment now and then in the conversation, but while Simón didn’t ignore her presence, he was visibly withdrawn and unenthused about talking to her. Ámbar started eating just to have something to do other than sit there feeling uncomfortable. The pastry she had picked up earlier might as well have been sand in her mouth. Her tea had long since gone cold, so she poured herself juice instead to pass it down. If anyone found it weird, they minded their own business, just as with the incredibly obvious elephant in the room.

At one point, Simón reached for a toast at the same time that she did, just like it had happened a month ago, but instead of the playful banter they had back then, now they had a brief and polite exchange in which both of them told the other to help themselves first, Simón insisted she took her pick, and then each of them grabbed a toast, and that was that.

Everything was too formal and tense and Ámbar hated it.

You’ve got no one to blame but yourself.

“Well, we gotta get going, right?” Pedro spoke soon after, breaking the silence as he got up from his seat. He looked at Matteo.

“Right,” Matteo said, and stood after him. “See you later, Ámbar.”

“See you,” Ámbar muttered, distracted by the realization that they were leaving, which meant—

“Wait up,” Simón called out to them, and downed the rest of his juice in one go. He got up from his chair and followed the guys.

Ámbar jumped to her feet. “Simón!”

Simón stopped, and after a moment, turned around to look at her. Ámbar’s heart sped up. She had called out on impulse— She didn’t know what to say.

“Um…” He clearly didn’t want to stay, so Ámbar couldn’t ask him that. She also couldn’t get into everything that had happened in just a few seconds, and since he wasn’t staying, that was all she had.

I love you was what she wanted to say. I love you, I’m sorry.

What she finally said was, “Have a nice day.”

She hoped he could hear the rest in that phrase.

Simón stood looking at her for a few seconds longer, and Ámbar thought he did.

He looked down briefly before replying. “Thank you.”

With that murmur, he walked away.

Ámbar deflated back into her seat with the sound of the closing front door. She leaned forward on the table and hid her face behind her hands. How was she going to be able to fix this?

“Oh, I see I just missed the guys,” a cheery voice showed up. Ámbar lowered her hands and saw Michel at the entrance of the dining room, grinning from ear to ear. “Maybe I should start getting up earlier but I always end up sleeping in,” he said with laughter. He took a seat at the table. “Good morning, Ámbar.”

Ámbar stood up. “Sorry, Michel, but I gotta get to work,” she murmured, not even looking at him as she walked away. She couldn’t stay there for a minute longer.

“Oh. Yeah, of course, have a nice day,” she heard Michel say behind her.

Ámbar went up to her room thinking that was completely impossible.

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

“What was that?”

Simón grimaced. He should’ve known his friends would ask questions the moment they got out of the house. He’d already been lucky enough to dodge their curiosity when they saw him walk out of the guest’s bathroom this morning, but after that display at breakfast, it was impossible to keep pretending nothing was amiss anymore.

“Matteo, don’t you have classes?” Simón asked him tiredly. They were all walking in the same direction even though he was sure Matteo wasn’t going to the Roller.

“I do, but I can go after this,” Matteo easily replied. “What happened with Ámbar?”

“Did you two have a fight?” Pedro asked, worried.

Simón sighed heavily. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

Pedro’s voice softened with sympathy. “That bad, huh?”

“Judging by Ámbar’s face, I’d bet she was the one who screwed up,” Matteo said. “Or was it the two of you?”

“It’s… complicated,” Simón said somberly, avoiding their gazes. He spun a ring around his finger. “Not even I know what to think, to be honest.”

Did they both screw up? Could what Simón did be considered screwing up when it meant he found out the truth? Maybe. Simón wasn’t opposed to acknowledging his own faults. But he couldn’t help but think that none of this would’ve happened if Ámbar hadn’t lied in the first place.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Matteo and Pedro looking at each other.

“Well, if you ever want to talk, you can count on us,” Pedro told him, giving him a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder.

“Yeah, you don’t need to bottle things up, you have us,” Matteo said. “I, for one, wouldn’t have any problem listening to you complain about Ámbar for an hour if you want.” Simón huffed out a wry laugh. Of course he would enjoy that.

“Or we could help you,” Pedro suggested. “I mean, when Delfi and I had our fight, you helped us make amends. It’d be only fair for me to do the same for you. I wouldn’t mind at all.”

Simón turned to them with a small smile— a sad looking one, surely, but it was what he could muster at the moment. “Thank you. Both of you. Right now I just want to get to the Roller and distract myself a little. I feel like I haven’t stopped thinking about this since yesterday.”

“Yeah, of course,” Pedro said, his voice understanding.

After a bit more hesitance, Matteo acquiesced too. “Okay, I’ll leave you then.” He stopped walking. “I gotta catch the bus to get to my uni. See you guys later,” he said, waving to them as he left in the opposite direction.

“See you,” Pedro and Simón said back, and then they carried on their way to the Roller.

Simón tucked his hands inside the pockets of his jacket as he walked. They were cold, and they felt kind of awkward knowing that even if Ámbar were here with him, they would not hold hands.

“You sure you don’t want to talk?” Pedro offered gently. Simón could feel his gaze on him while he stared at the pavement. He had never been good at hiding his emotions. He didn’t really try to, to be honest—one thing he and Ámbar were complete opposites at— so he probably looked as depressed to Pedro as he felt.

Just as he usually didn’t hide his feelings, Simón didn’t usually have qualms about talking about them, but in this case, he felt some reluctance for some reason.

“Yeah,” he answered Pedro. And even though his friend didn’t ask for an explanation, he still searched for one. “Yeah, it’s just…”

I wouldn’t know how to say it without it sounding bad.

Simón’s chest tightened.

Ah. So that was why.

He shook his head a little and turned to look at Pedro. “Nothing. We’ll figure it out.”Or so I hope.

Pedro showed him a smile. “I’m sure you will.”

They walked the rest of the way talking about something else. It felt almost normal for a moment— To arrive at the cafeteria, get to work, focus on nothing but preparing food, drinks, and waiting tables. It was exactly what Simón wanted, the distraction of the routine, until he remembered that yesterday had seemed normal too, just a day like any other, right until he talked to Emilia and found out Ámbar lied to him.

Normal could be deceiving. Normal could not be normal at all. How could Simón know?

The thought came with a wave of sadness, and of resignation. It appeared he couldn’t not think about what happened because even peace and quiet seemed suspicious to him now. His only option was to talk to Ámbar and try to fix things. But could they even be fixed?

Simón wasn’t even sure yet about his own feelings on the matter enough to talk to Ámbar about it. A part of him was rightfully angry. Another was sad about the whole situation and from the hurtful words Ámbar shot at him. Another felt guilty for making her mad, and another was worried, very much scared actually, because— What if this was it? What if Ámbar couldn’t stand him anymore? Or what if what she was hiding was something truly awful and he couldn’t—

“Simón!”

Simón startled, looking up with a jump, and then he relaxed when he saw it was just his friend. “Luna, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” Luna said, not looking sorry at all—She was laughing, actually. “Seems like your head was up in the clouds, since you didn’t see me.”

“Yeah, a little.” Simón focused back on the table he was currently scrubbing clean with a rag. That was what he’d been doing for the past half-hour: cleaning tables. Which, honestly, he could’ve asked either of the part-timers to do— it was the type of menial tasks employees in training usually got assigned to— but he felt like scrubbing something, so he let the girls handle the food instead. “How are you? Everything alright at the Blake?”

“Yup,” Luna replied, but immediately turned doubtful. “Well, I think so. I had an exam today and I don’t know how well I did—But never mind that,” she stopped herself. “I was actually here to ask you how you’re feeling. Has your headache gone away yet?”

Simón stopped his mindless scrubbing (really, the table couldn’t be any cleaner than it already was) and looked up with a frown.

“Headache?”

“Yeah, Ámbar told us last night that you weren’t coming to dinner because you felt a little under the weather. Are you feeling better now?” She said with eyes drowned in caring worry. “Because if you don’t, maybe you should ask the guys to cover for you. There’s also Cata and Rae now, so I think you could relax for a bit. Lower your stress levels. Maybe your headache was due to stress.”

Simón bowed his head and a tiny wistful smile turned up the corner of his lips. “Right.”

That explained why Pedro’s first words upon seeing him that morning had been ‘Simón, what a surprise to see you here! Did you sleep in your room cause you felt unwell?’ Simón thought it had just been an assumption (and he ran with it saying, ‘Something like that’ ), but as it turned out, it was something Ámbar had explicitly told them.

Another lie, Simón couldn’t help but think. But at least this one he understood, and it didn’t bother him much, to be honest. It kept him from being sought out by people last night when he definitely didn’t want to talk to anyone, so he couldn’t say convincingly that it was a bad thing to do.

Simón looked at Luna again. “My head doesn’t hurt. And it didn’t hurt yesterday either, that was just an excuse,” he disclosed to her. The lie had already done its job; he wasn’t going to maintain it now.

Luna frowned. “Excuse?” She grabbed a chair to take a seat at the high table. “Excuse for what? You didn’t want to eat or…?”

“It’s not that I didn’t want to eat, I just…”

Simón sighed and dropped the rag on the table, leaning his hands on it afterwards. So much for scrubbing. He couldn’t clean the messes of his life like that table anyway.

“I had a fight with Ámbar last night,” he admitted, not meeting Luna’s gaze. “That’s why I didn’t want to leave my room. I wanted to be alone for a little while.”

“With Ámbar?” Luna sounded even more confused now. “But— Wait, I don’t get it. I saw her just this morning, she looked normal. When I asked her about you, she just told me that you—” Simón met her eyes. “Oh…” It clicked then. She lowered her gaze. “She was lying.”

Simón showed a sad smile as confirmation.

“When you say you two fought…” Luna started gently. “Was it, like, a difference of opinion…?” She ventured. “You had a disagreement or… more of an ugly fight?”

It was clear from her face that she was hoping it wasn’t the latter. Simón hesitated with his answer. What was the answer to that? He guessed, technically, it all boiled up to a difference of opinion: Simón thought Ámbar should be more honest, Ámbar disagreed; Simón thought he was doing a good thing by trying to help her, Ámbar thought he was meddlesome and should mind his own business. But it also wasn’t as simple as that.

Luna started talking again before he could formulate anything, stumbling in her apparent need to both not pressure him and also comfort him.

“I mean, I can imagine it wasn’t pleasant, what with you wanting to skip dinner and all that, but it wasn’t, like, serious, was it? I mean, you two looked very happy. Ámbar is more changed than ever. And— Look, not because I said she looked normal it means she wasn’t affected by this, alright?” She corrected. “I mean, I don’t know her like I know you, maybe she did look awful and I just didn’t notice. I mean, there’s no way that she wouldn’t care if you two fought, I’m sure of it. Ámbar cares about you a lot, and you care about her too, so there’s no way that you two would break up just because you had one fight… Right?” She finished with trepidation.

Simón stared at his friend’s worried face with a bit of surprise. Of all things, he wasn’t expecting Luna to reassure him about their feelings for each other.

And it was… nice to hear. That an outsider looked at them and thought that. That someone other than himself was so convinced that Ámbar changed and she cared about him.

It made Simón think too. Remember that morning. How Ámbar had waited for him (because it was obvious that she had) and how she had stopped him from leaving without wishing him a nice day first, as they always did. How her eyes screamed she wanted to say more.

She hadn’t said the actual words but they were there.

‘There’s no way that you two would break up just because you had one fight, right?’

Simón’s mouth curled into a sad smile and his eyes fell to the table.

“She is affected and we haven’t broken up,” Simón confirmed to Luna. “But it was rather an ugly fight.”

Luna looked him up with a guileless expression. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” She offered. “I mean, I’m not sure I could give you any good advice, considering my own romantic history, but I could listen. Maybe it could help to get it off your chest.”

Simón looked at his best friend. He had told the guys previously that he didn’t want to talk about it and he meant it. But maybe… maybe he could talk to Luna. Luna always saw the best in people. Matteo would’ve jumped to worse conclusions than him automatically. Pedro would’ve tried to be more optimistic but Simón doubted he would’ve succeeded much. Maybe with Luna it would be okay. Maybe with her he’d be able to find some explanation that wasn’t as fatalistic as the ones his mind kept conjuring.

(He really needed someone to tell him it would be alright.)

Simón took a big breath and grabbed a chair to sit in front of Luna. “Okay,” he let the air go. “Here’s the thing: Ámbar has some things that she’s not telling me. But she told me. I mean, she said she can’t tell me now because it’s hard for her, but she’ll tell me when she can. And I want to be understanding, but I don’t get why she won’t just talk to me, and every time I try to get her to confide in me, it has the complete opposite effect— She closes up and gets defensive. Last night, she told me I’m meddling too much in her private affairs, and it is a little true, I should just trust her, but it’s not easy, and especially now, because yesterday I found out she lied to me. That’s what triggered this whole thing, that she lied to me. She told me Emilia had called her on the phone, but Emilia didn’t call her, and she didn’t want to tell me who she was really talking to. And I know that sounds controlling, like ‘Who were you talking to on the phone’, but it’s not like that, it’s not that I don’t I want her to have privacy, but why lie to me about it? I thought there weren’t lies in our relationship anymore. I just… It’s just…” Simón slumped on the table. “It sucks.”

When he brought himself to look back at Luna, her eyes were very wide.

“…Wow,” she let out. Clearly, that had been a lot of information to drop on her in such little time.

Simón would’ve felt bad if he weren’t desperate for consolation. “What do you think? Do you think I blew it out of proportion?” He asked with a tiny bit of hope. “I mean, it was just a phone call, right? This isn’t like last year…”

“Well…” Luna started cautiously once she processed everything. “The way you picture it… it does sound very strange, Simón,” she admitted with ruefully. His little hope died. “I mean, a lie is always a lie, and that’s coming from anyone but- from Ámbar specifically…? You have to admit, she doesn’t exactly have the best track record with these things.”

Simón looked down, his shoulders sagging. “I know.” His voice came out as defeated as he felt. “I know and I swear I don’t want to think anything bad because I know she’s changed, I know it, but what am I supposed to think if she acts like this?” He said, distraught. “If she lies and hides things from me?”

Luna’s eyes glistened with apprehension. “You don’t think she’s… plotting something again, do you?”

“No,” Simón denied automatically. “No, I don’t think so, I…” He sat up straight again. “I mean, she’s come too far for that,” he reasoned. “It wouldn’t make sense. Plus, why? Why now? And how? She barely has any free time left with everything that means being the manager of the Roller.” He shook his head. “No, this… this has to be something else. Like, something she’s struggling to talk about but because it’s very private, you know? Something she doesn’t feel comfortable sharing yet.”

“But if she was talking to someone on the phone, it means that, whatever it is, she is talking to someone about it,” Luna pointed out. Then she asked carefully. “Do you have any idea who it might be?”

Oh, Simón had many ideas.

It was basically the one thing he’d been able to think about ever since his talk with Emilia. He’d been kind of able to keep the theories at bay before talking to Ámbar because he’d been hoping that she’d just answer that question for him and then everything would be alright, but after their fight, he had hardly managed to sleep, thinking over and over about who it could’ve been on the other side of the phone.

A ton of possibilities had crossed his mind, but after musing it over, he had mainly three that he considered most likely: Sharon, that accountant that Ámbar kicked out of the Roller, or some random guy Ámbar was cheating on him with.

(It had even crossed his mind that it might be a girl and that dating him made Ámbar realize that she actually wasn’t into guys at all, and wouldn’t that be the icing on the cake of his life?)

The problem with either of those options was that neither completely convinced him, for different reasons. In the first place, if it was Sharon, why wouldn’t Ámbar just tell him that? If Sharon had decided to call her now after all these months, that was on Sharon, not on Ámbar, she had no reason to hide it. After all, with all the pain that woman had caused her, Simón would never think Ámbar was helping her. She shouldn’t be worried that he would suspect her like that.

(Maybe she was. Maybe that was the image she had of him: Nosy, judgy, and insufferable.)

The accountant raised similar questions in his mind, mainly because she was linked to Sharon— at least, as far as Ámbar told him. If there was more to it, well, Simón had no way to know, and he also couldn’t think of why Ámbar would be keeping it a secret.

Then there was the third option, which Simón refused to even contemplate. Ámbar was not cheating on him. She just wasn’t. She wouldn’t do that.

Like you thought she wouldn’t lie to you again?

“I have some suspicions but none of them convince me,” he finally replied to Luna, cutting off the venomous voices in his head or he would keep falling into a rabbit hole of questions he had no answers to. “I mean, this just—” He ran a hand through his hair furiously. “This can’t be anything bad, Luna, it just can’t, there has to be some other explanation.”

Some seconds ticked by. “Well, I’m sorry, Simón, but I have no idea what it could be,” Luna said with sadness. “But that doesn’t mean it’s anything bad,” she tried to argue.

Simón huffed sarcastically. “Right, and what else could it be? A surprise party for me?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Luna.” Simón gave him a look. He had to admit that, in his lowest moment, even that crossed his mind, but it didn’t make sense and she knew it. “She’s already organizing the Roller Jam inspired by México. And I really much doubt she would’ve yelled at me the way she did if that were the case.”

Luna grimaced but didn’t back down. She leaned forward on the table and tried again. “Look, all I’m saying is, at the end of the day, neither of us know anything, so we can’t take anything for certain,” she defended. “Ámbar could be going through a hard time and that’s why she’s acting like this— It wouldn’t be the first time she lashes out at the world instead of asking for help. Besides, this isn’t like last year, you said it yourself. Back then there were suspicious signs, things that didn’t quite add up, people accusing Ámbar of stuff she kept denying she did— Like that thing with the dislikes in Jazmín’s video,” she gave as an example. “But now there’s nothing like that. Things are incredibly peaceful here at the Roller. Ámbar’s no longer with the Red Sharks, and she let us use the rink again to train with Juliana, and she’s organizing this amazing Day of the Dead party, which I know will be awesome.” She looked at him with radiant optimism, urging him to feel the same. “If she had done anything bad, I think someone would’ve seen or heard anything by now, and no one has told me anything of the sort. Actually, everyone has noticed how much Ámbar has changed lately. In fact—”

Luna paused in her speech, like realizing she was about to say something she hadn’t planned to.

“What?” Simón asked her.

“Well,” she said after a moment, “since Ámbar was acting so different and everything seemed to be going well, I was thinking about maybe asking her to join the Roller Team again.”

Simón’s heart fluttered a little at the idea. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, we would’ve had to talk to the rest of the guys first, obviously, and Ámbar too, but…” Luna averted her gaze. “Well, with everything you’re telling me now…”

Simón’s excitement flickered out and he looked down dejectedly. “It doesn’t sound like a good idea anymore,” he finished for her.

It hurt to know he almost had everything he ever wanted.

“Hey.” Luna’s soft voice broke through the gloom of his thoughts. She reached out to hold his hands and Simón looked up to meet her eyes, earnest and caring. “You and Ámbar haven’t talked since you had your fight, right?” She read the answer on his face. “Then don’t be discouraged.” She squeezed his hands in her own. “Who knows? Maybe next time you see each other, she’ll apologize for everything and explain about the phone call and everything will be alright. Don’t lose hope, okay?”

There it was, the optimism that was so inherent in Luna. Simón wanted to cling to it like a lifeboat, even if the demons in his head whispered that she was just saying what he wanted to hear.

If he started thinking everyone was lying to him, he would lose himself. Luna was honest. And she was right— Nothing was said and done yet. If anything, he could cling to that.

He drew a small smile on his face. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Luna said with her own little smile, hers much brighter than his own.

She pulled away and stood up from her seat. “Now, if you need me, I’ll be at the mansion. And don’t skip dinner again, you hear me?” She pointed her finger at him. “I’m going to tell my mom to cook your favorite meal, so you better show up or we’re not leaving you any leftovers.”

The smile on Simón’s lips turned a little more genuine. “Okay. I’ll see you there.”

“See you,” Luna returned, and then she walked to the exit.

Simón let out a heavy sigh, alone once more. Did he feel better now that he’d talked it over with someone? Maybe a little, but it hadn’t been the magical solution he was hoping for.

He should’ve known there were no magical solutions.

He remained thinking back on everything Luna had said. All her arguments had been reasonable— Up until a day ago, everything seemed to be fine. Everything was fine at the Roller, not like last year.

But if everything at the Roller was fine and none of his friends suspected Ámbar of anything, then…

Whatever she’s hiding only has to do with me.

It should be a good thing. Technically, it was. It was better if this whole thing only affected him instead of all of his friends.

But what was he supposed to do with the ache inside his chest?

He tried repeating Luna’s assurances in his mind— Maybe the next time he talked to Ámbar everything would be fixed, maybe there wasn’t anything bad going on and Ámbar only lashed out because she had a tendency to do that when she felt vulnerable, he shouldn’t assume anything until proven otherwise. They were all good points. All of it had logic. Then why couldn’t he calm down?

‘Back then there were suspicious signs, things that didn’t quite add up’

There was nothing of the sort now, wasn’t there? So it was fine. Everything was going to be fine.

Except…

Unbidden, a memory came to mind. That moment, days ago, when Ámbar had snatched her phone out of hand, claiming she was waiting for a call from Vidia. Simón remembered feeling like she wasn’t being sincere then.

...Had that… been a lie too?

Again with her phone, it’s someone on that phone, who is she talking to?

The whole deal with that accountant had been suspicious— There was no better word to describe it. But Ámbar had kicked her out of the Roller, refusing to take her contact information when the woman offered it, so it couldn’t be her.

Who else?

Flashes of Benicio on the phone ran through Simón’s mind, of him talking and hanging up at the same time Ámbar did. He recalled that one time he saw them walking out of the dressing room together, Benicio’s smug smirk, how Ámbar told him later that it was nothing, that Benicio had only followed her there to annoy her.

The same thing she said about Emilia’s supposed phone call.

No, no— Stop it. Now he was making stupid connections. Yes, Ámbar lied to him, but she didn’t lie to him every day, it had been just once. She didn’t lie about Vidia and she didn’t lie about Benicio.

How do you know?

If she lied to you once, she could’ve lied a thousand times, how do you know? How do you know if everything is a lie?

Cold dread tensed Simón’s limbs and he knew. That was the reason why he couldn’t calm down. It wasn’t because he was convinced there was something bad going on, it wasn’t because he believed everything was a lie, it was because before that never would’ve crossed his mind and now it was a possibility. He’d gone from solid ground and sure steps to walking on a frozen lake, without the slightest clue of how thick the ice was under his feet.

How many more steps could he take before it broke? In which direction? Maybe it wouldn’t break. But maybe it would.

Scared. That was what Simón was, scared, more than all the rest— More than angry, more than guilty, more than hurt.

And his only hope was that Ámbar could somehow make everything be okay again.

(Maybe the ice had broken already.)

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

Unbeknownst to the lonely figure, two sets of eyes stood watching him from some meters away, blended into a dark corner of the bar.

“You were absolutely right, he looks miserable.”

Benicio was smirking with all the self-satisfaction a person could possibly exude. It was evident that seeing Simón alone brought him a lot of joy. Emilia, on her part, watched him with little more than indifference.

Benicio threw her a glance. “See? I told you Ámbar would do it all by herself,” he gloated, sounding proud. Of himself or Ámbar? Both, probably. “No matter how much she tries to act as the good girl, that’s not who she really is— She’s just like us. It’s only a matter of time before they break up,” he said savoring it.

“Okay so, mission accomplished, right?” Emilia pressed. She wasn’t nearly as happy about this as he was. She didn’t think she was even happy. Maybe a little satisfied— after all, this meant their revenge had borne fruit, which was exactly why she had told Benicio about her conversation with Simón the previous day— but it paled in comparison to how tired she was of this topic and her consequential annoyance at Benicio. “Ámbar got her due for betraying us. Now we can focus on our rollerskating.”

“Not yet,” Benicio replied, watching Simón with a calculating glint in his eyes. “I still have one final move in my plan.”

Emilia’s annoyance snapped into exasperation. “Benicio, all of the couple competitions I’ve found have their sign-ups next month and we haven’t even started coming up with a choreography— Can you stop thinking about Ámbar for one second?”

Benicio finally turned to look at her and he had the gall to smirk. With one hand, he brushed some of her hair behind her shoulder. “I like it when you get jealous.”

Emilia tried not to let his flirting affect her. It wasn’t that easy, especially because they’d been kissing lately, turning their closeness into something more. It wasn’t anything serious, but Emilia liked it. Liked him. That was the only reason why she put up with him so much.

But this was important. This was her career. Or what she wanted her career to be and she wasn’t going to achieve that if they kept going like this.

“I want to compete,” she told him. “I want to win something. I thought that was what you wanted too; to be the best.”

“And we will be.” He took her hand. “Together.”

Emilia’s heart fluttered against her will, the pathetic, girly part of her brain latching onto his words and turning them over, wondering if it meant ‘nothing serious’ could turn into something real. A relationship.

“Just be patient, okay?” Benicio told her, confident and laid-back. “The world will know our names, that I can assure you.”

Emilia stared into his eyes, trying to share his confidence, trying to believe him, wanting to know what thoughts ran through his mind.

Do you like me? Do you see me? Do you really care?

She couldn’t voice any of these things or she’d look weak. She’d look like an insecure little girl, weeping for his attention.

But she wanted his attention. She wanted to be the best in his eyes. She wanted him to choose her over everyone else. Because if a guy like Benicio, who accepted only the best, chose her, then that would mean she was the best, right?

And then she’d feel better.

Then, maybe it would all have been worth it.

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

The warmth of the mansion came as a relief after being exposed to the biting cold outside during the walk back from the Roller. Simón could practically feel his body sucking up the heat as he and Pedro crossed the front door, making him almost want to shudder with contentment. The three years he’d been living in Buenos Aires might have gotten him more used to the cold, but he was still a tropical guy at heart, and maybe he always would be. Bless all the ACs and heaters in the world.

The relief was short-lived as only a couple of footsteps brought him right into the field of vision of Ámbar, who was sitting on a couch next to the lobby, working on what appeared to be decorations for the Roller Jam.

Some good five meters separated them, so it shouldn’t have been an issue. Simón should’ve been able to walk straight to the stairs, but of course his eyes found Ámbar immediately— they always did— and Ámbar looked back too, maybe had been looking since the moment she heard the front door open, and his feet slowed to a stop.

He knew he would see her eventually. Had prepared for it even, at least a little. But he didn’t think it would be so soon.

(And that gaze— this one look they were sharing across the room right now. It was charged with a million things, playing a staccato on his pulse.)

(No, Simón hadn’t prepared enough for this.)

Pedro stopped as well, probably because he noticed Simón did. Feeling his presence next to him made Simón look away, as if he’d been caught doing something wrong. Well, not wrong, just incredibly awkward.

Pedro seemed to know this too, so he spoke, trying to alleviate the scene with a touch of normalcy.

“Hey, Ámbar. Still working?”

Simón didn’t look up to see her, but he could imagine her trying to seem composed as she replied. “Yeah, um, I wanted to get these done today.”

“Ah. I see.” Clearly, Pedro’s attempt at small talk had hit a dead-end. “Well, I’ll see you at dinner.”

Pedro looked at Simón as he turned toward the stairs, silently questioning if he was going to come with him or not. Simón didn’t have an answer. Pedro kept walking away, eventually disappearing from view altogether, and Simón’s feet stayed rooted to the spot. Maybe that was his answer.

He took a deep breath and turned to face the living room again. A pair of blue eyes darted quickly away from his, pretending they hadn’t been watching. Simón felt a weird flicker of something in his chest. Maybe it would’ve been a surge of affection in another life, endearment or amusement, but it didn’t manage to fully form before getting flattened by the weight of his nerves and anxiety, so it only left him feeling a little lost, a little unmoored.

Come on, you know what needs to happen, just do it.

Simón hid his hands inside the pockets of his jacket and approached Ámbar at a measured pace. He stood next to the couch and looked at the decorations laying on the coffee table— An assortment of what seemed like paper garlands in different shapes and colors covered the surface almost completely, the one in Ámbar’s hands made of pink flowers that looked like Cempasúchil, linked together by a string.

(It looked like the string he once used to make the blanket fort. He pushed that thought aside.)

“You’re doing a great job, they look very pretty,” he offered as compliment. It was true, and also easier to talk about than everything else.

It took Ámbar a second to reply.

“Thank you.” Her voice came out subdued, as if her shifting eyes and fidgety hands weren’t enough signs she was nervous as well. “I had never done stuff like this before, but it’s surprisingly nice.”

Another flicker. For me, she’s doing this for me.

But that didn’t eliminate other things she had done.

“Well, lucky for you, I have a lot of experience,” Simón said, taking off his jacket and draping it on the back of the couch as he moved to sit down next to her. He extended his hand. “Here, hand me one, I’ll help you.”

Ámbar’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh, you don’t have to. You must be tired from work.”

“I told you I’d help you, so I’m going to.”

He didn’t mean it as a jab, necessarily, but he could see from the quick way Ámbar averted her gaze that she took it as one. ‘I keep my word.’

Well. It wasn’t untrue.

“It’s no problem, really,” Simón reassured her. He wasn’t particularly tired from his job, and sitting down making crafts wasn’t nearly an exhausting activity.

Ámbar nodded and reached for the cardboard box at her feet to hand him another half-made garland, much like the one she was working on.

The two got to work in silence. A bit of conversation sparked here and there throughout the first few minutes, mostly indications of how to do this, how to do that, or asking the other to pass them something.

It was hard to reconcile this stiffness with the comforting ease Simón was used to having between them. It was hard to reconcile this Ámbar, quiet and cowered as if afraid to say or do the wrong thing, with the one that had yelled at him the previous night, letting him know unabashedly what she thought of him. He still couldn’t believe any of that had happened. It all felt so strange. One second, they were happy and she was organizing an entire party for him, and then… this.

One event shouldn’t be able to eclipse everything else. It should be easy to go back to what they had. Except this wasn’t just a fight, and a little lie wasn’t just a lie, not between them, not with their history.

And Ámbar knew that and she still did it anyway.

And she told me not to meddle and I did it anyway.

Eventually, neither of them needed more instructions, and they were both focused on what they were doing, so they didn’t talk anymore. Simón doubted they were actually focused, but that was their excuse. He didn’t know how long they spent like that. At some point, two of the garlands in Ámbar’s pile became tangled and Simón offered to help her untangle them. Ámbar handed them to him, and their hands touched.

Both of them froze at the same time. Simón went to move his hands away, but Ámbar grabbed them and held them tight before they could retreat.

“I’m sorry.” Her anguish-ridden voice broke the silence, the looming feeling of uncertainty and apprehension hanging above their heads. She looked at him, seeking his eyes until Simón met her own. “I’m so sorry, about everything. I was horrible to you, I said nothing but bullshit, you didn’t deserve any of that.”

Simón looked down at their hands.

“I’m sorry if…” He swallowed. “If sometimes I come out as a busybody, I don’t mean to.”

Maybe he didn’t deserve everything, but maybe he did a little; he had to admit that.

Ámbar shook her head emphatically. “No, no, you are not a busybody.” She brought a hand to his cheek, making Simón look up to meet her gaze. “You reach out to people because you care. And I know everything you do is because you care about me. I never should’ve called you that; you’re the sweetest.”

Her thumb caressed his cheek but Simón wanted to jerk and move his head away.

‘Sweet.’ That word didn’t make him feel better.

I’m so sweet that I’m easy to lie to? So sweet that you think I’m stupid and don’t notice something’s going on? So sweet you think I don’t care?

Or maybe I’m so sweet that you feel bad admitting I annoy you, so you’re lying to me even now, saying you didn’t mean it.

Poison. There was poison filling up Simón’s mind and heart, a black substance running through his very veins, and Simón didn’t know where it came from. He had never thought this way. At least, not since last year, but things were so different then.

Are they? How are they different?

Because he knew Ámbar now. Last year he didn’t, not really, not with all her facets, so it was easy to think the worst of her. But now? Simón understood her much more, and trusted her much more, and there was no way she was up to something bad, there just wasn’t.

“My love?”

Simón returned his gaze, and focus, back to Ámbar, finding her eyes staring at him with equal hope and trepidation, searching his face for something.

She lowered her hand from his cheek and took both his hands in her own again, squeezing them intently.

“I love you,” she said, and it sounded like a plea. “Please forgive me. I didn’t mean anything I said, I swear. I really shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I shouldn’t have lied to you. You have every right to be upset— if it were me in your shoes, I don’t even know if I’d forgive myself, but I… I’m so sorry. I just hope you can find it in you to forgive me.”

Simón waited. He waited for her to tell him who she had been talking to on the phone. He waited for her to promise she wasn’t going to lie again. He waited.

“Can you forgive me?”

Simón’s heart dropped.

Why?

Why won’t she promise? I would believe her. I’d believe her a thousand times.

Did she intend to do it again? Was that it? She couldn’t promise she wouldn’t lie because she would do it if he asked about it?

She did say she would tell him eventually. If this was what she meant with the things she was hiding, she asked him not to ask, he was going to be patient.

What if he didn’t want to be patient anymore?

I don’t have that choice.

Really, what was the alternative? What could he say? He could demand she told him but that would just lead to them fighting again. He could give an ultimatum, open his mouth right now and say something like, ‘Ámbar, you either tell me everything or I’m breaking up with you.’

But—

He—

That—

Simón’s insides twisted just from thinking about it. That wasn’t what he wanted— It was the last thing he wanted. And it would be very insensitive towards Ámbar, truly horrible to force her to talk in such a way, without her wanting to or being ready.

(The asphyxiating terror crept in, that given the choice, she could not choose him at all.)

Last year had been much different. Simón had walked away even if it hurt him because he thought Ámbar wasn’t who he thought she was. One couldn’t fall in love with the idea of someone, especially if that idea was wrong. But eventually, he got to confirm that he was right about her, that she had a good heart, had it all along, and Simón had gotten theprivilege of getting to know it first-hand all this time, and God if he loved her, flaws and all.

He couldn’t just walk away now. And he didn’t have to. Things would be fine. Because he knew Ámbar, and she knew him, and somehow, they would be alright.

(Now who’s saying what you want to hear?)

Simón looked at her and made his lips form some resemblance of a smile. “Yeah. I forgive you.”

Ámbar sagged with relief and threw her arms around him, holding him tight. “Thank you.” She turned her face to kiss the side of his head.

Simón wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck.

Maybe he just had to wait some more.

…

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

Shout-out to Cat, my friend from Argentina (who I added into the story as a thank you for letting me crash on her couch), for pointing out that Simón was, indeed, a little annoying back in season 2 when he was constantly asking Ámbar if she was okay over and over. That little detail served as a good callback to really draw the knife home in Simón’s chest <3

Also, shout-out to Rae, who I’ll be visiting very soon in Canada!! <3 Love you, girl. Thank you for loving my story from day one, and especially at times when I didn’t love it myself. I just had to immortalize you by making you part of the story. But I didn’t want it to be cringe either, so I just made you the sidest side character to ever live on the sidelines 😂 Hope you’re pleased.

(Chiara, don’t worry, your moment will come, you just have to wait until the last chapters<3)

That’s what happens when you’re a friend of mine: My mind turns your life into folklore.

To all of my readers: you guys are like friends to me as well <3 Thank you so much for your continuing support— I love all your messages with questions, prompts, and encouragements to keep writing— and I hope you liked this chapter. See you next time! - C

#simbar #soy luna #simbar fanfic #simbar fic #soy luna fanfiction #My Writing #roads that cross

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