#or at least i would hope so. plus i also felt ashamed of the enthusiasm with which i talked of this book and worked on the translation

[joziokowalski]

hate how most things i supposedly do for the fun of it or out of curiosity or because i supposedly find them meaningful are almost always poisoned with hunger for approval which i can never get enough of. like i remember translating a passage from my favourite book and feeling not too bad about myself or the process while it lasted and i Thought i would feel satisfied when i finished it, but then all i felt was drained and depressed and in a way abandoned because it seemed to me that none of the people close to me took any interest in it. All Joy Completely Ruined

[jkcreation]

Chapter 1- Let Me Tell You a Story…

Let me tell you about a time when I met a Magic Knight Captain, who, at first glance, was overwhelmingly daunting. For awhile I was working in a popular pub in the capital. From time to time I would see various Magic Knights come into the pub to relax for the evening. Heck, we would even see groups of Magic Knights get together for the sole purpose of trying to get girls at mixers. Usually, it resulted in utter failure, ending in everyone either leaving alone, or a huge bar fight. Magic Knight Captains however, were always a rare sight. After all, out of all the kingdom's residents there are only nine captains. From what I’ve seen and from stories I’ve heard, there seemed to be a common trend that someone associated with the Magic Knights seemed to be an acquired taste.

When I first saw Jack the Ripper, the Magic Knight Captain of the Green Mantises, I won’t lie - he seemed dangerous. The kind of dangerous that if I would make the slightest mistake he would have killed me on the spot. Plus, there were rumours about him that didn't help this visage.

When he entered the pub with long defined strides, he was tall and lean but clearly built. He had shoulder length black hair which was wild and untamed. His shirt barely covered his torso leaving little to the imagination of his abs, which were also very clearly defined. His golden eyes were sharp and focused, while he wore a sinister smile. He wore a green folded half cape adorned with the logo of the Green Mantises with his grimoire holstered behind him.

Taking a deep breath, I shook off the thought of danger, after all he was not in my section so he wasn’t my concern. I looked around to find the waitress that was serving his section, and I found she was tending to some young men at another table who were fawning over her. I recall thinking to myself that she would get to him soon enough, and that he wasn’t my problem. I continued my evening as normal, with frequent glances over in his direction. Every now again I would catch him, staring back at me with a grin plastered on his face, though his eyes were shooting daggers. This caused the hairs at the back of my neck to stand on end. It was intense, having his powerful gaze directed at me. I couldn’t help it. His leering gaze was enough to jumpstart my imagination.

My mind wanders to a place where Jack has me pinned, both hands above my head in only one of his. This seems almost too easy for him, as if he does these sorts of things on the regular. Staring intently at me while I trembled with anticipation of his touch below him. His one hand glided over my exposed skin slowly tracing down between my legs, encircling my clit, teasing me. His face drawing near mine as if he would be breathing in my essence. I begged him for more… Suddenly snapping back to reality, I caught myself staring at him, with heat pooling deep in my center.

‘Oh no, I thought to myself, he hasn’t even been served yet!’ I realized, and was overcome by a sense of panic. There seemed to be a complete lack of service to his table, as there we no drinks or even silverware to be found. I looked around for his server and found her to still be invested at her previous table, I’m guessing she enjoys the attention. I quickly ran over to his table mentally preparing myself for the worst. ‘No wonder he was shooting daggers at me’ I thought as I steadied my breath.

Mustering up my courage, I head over to his table. “Hello sir! Has anyone come to take your order yet?” Surprisingly, I was able to give him a genuine smile with ease. He leaned over the table with a leering gaze.

“Heh, it’s about time! I wanted an ale 20 minutes ago!” He muttered, without enthusiasm. Tilting his head slightly to the side, he inspected me up and down. His long fingers tapped on the tabletop impatiently, and I quickly bowed to him in an apologetic fashion. Peeking up, I thought I could see his eyes trailing to my exposed cleavage.

I hope he likes the view, I wonder how well my breasts would fit in his hands…

“Absolutely, I do apologize about the long wait! I’ll have that drink for you right away.” A smirk crossed his lips, it was kinda cute, if he didn’t look like he wanted to cut me. I quickly ran off to grab his first drink without delay. I wasn’t looking, but I could feel his eyes on my back, and my behind, as I quickly headed to the bar.

Upon returning he seemed somewhat impressed. I quickly handed his drink to him and plucked the mug from my grasp, his fingers feathering mine. His hands were large, strong, and rugged. He drank the ale in one swig, and his long tongue slowly licked up the dribble of alcohol on his chin.

Oh that tongue! I could clearly see myself falling prey to his strong grasp, forcing me to sit on his face as he licks up my nectar, lunging that tongue deep inside. Over, and over, and over until I can’t take it anymore... My breath hitches in my throat as reality hits me.

“Get me another!” he said as he thrusted the mug towards me. His gaze softened ever so slightly as surprise crossed my face.

“Sure thing, I take it you had a rough day today?” I quietly said to him as I grasped the still cool mug from his clutch.

“I didn’t have a bad day, heh heh… I was just really thirsty. In fact, I had a great day, I got to slice up some of my squad who couldn’t make the cut.” He said in a harsh but oddly jovial tone. I couldn’t help but to giggle at the pun. I know I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help myself. A blush bloomed across my cheeks, feeling the heat rising inside I quickly turned around to grab him another drink from the bar, trying to calm myself down.

“Heyyyyy purdy lady...” a drunken man slurred. “How bout you spend some time with me and my boyz, come here sit on my lap.” His strong hand gripped tightly on my wrist, causing me to drop the empty mug in shock.

This was the table that the other waitress had been tending. I use the word ‘tending’ lightly, as she was currently perched on a gentleman’s lap serving drinks.

“Come on, it’ll be more fun if you join us!” The waitress purred.

“Oh no! Please let me go sir, you’re hurting me!” He tightened his grasp and pulled me to sit down on him. I could feel his member press up against me. “Let go of me!”

The other waitress piped up “Oh don’t be like that! You know if you treat these guys right they will give you some good tips!” She giggled as she wiggled further down into her guests lap.

“Yeah, we’ll give you good tips if you help entertain us, your friend can only do so much. I want to feel you squirm on my lap, too.” The brute said in a lecherous tone, as he grabbed tighter and pulled me closer into him. It was so disgusting, I remember closing my eyes so tight trying to pretend this wasn’t actually happening.

“Hey loser! Do you want to see me slice off your hands without cutting the woman? I can promise you it’s really impressive!” Green blades of mana spawn from the Knight Captain's arms and he runs his long tongue across the blade. I looked up at him, right now in this moment I was so thankful he came to my rescue. Or at least part of me was hoping he was coming to my rescue.

“Piss off bean pole, pretty lady’s going to be entertaining me and my lads tonight.” He grabbed even tighter than before as I gasped in pain, it was sure to leave a bruise later.

“Hey man, ya know that’s the Magic Knight Captain, Jack the Ripper… I wouldn’t mess with him, he's crazy.” One of the assailant's comrades chimed in.

“Heh heh, you don’t even seem to be worth slicing up, but it could be a fun challenge to cut you to bits without getting a drop of blood on the girl. Who wants to see me do it? I do like a challenge” Jack gestured to the now silent pub.

Looking up at the Captain, my eyes pleaded for him to get rid of these drunken bastards. I didn’t really care how, I just wanted them gone. It was as if he could read my mind, as he quickly maneuvered towards the man and sliced with extreme precision, leaving only his undergarments. The drunkard pushed me off in a panic and Jack managed to catch me from falling flat on my bottom. The poor excuse of a man clumsily staggered and ran out the door with his friends in tow, leaving the waitress behind scared and confused.

“Th-thank you, s-sir.” My back pressed up so close to his body, I looked back up to him. Noticing that he’s so warm…

His strong arms holding me tight is making my heart beat faster. I could feel my hips grind up into him as he rips down my panties, sliding his cock in from behind me, penetrating my ass leaving me wanting, and soaking wet… CALM DOWN GET OUT OF THE GUTTER YOU’RE WORKING! I internally screamed at myself.

“Don’t mention it, heh heh, it’s too bad I missed his hands.” He seethed. “I would have loved to slice them off, it would have felt so good heh heh.” While it sounded like he was disappointed it didn’t feel like it. “Any blood on you?” He firmly grabbed my chin and inspected my face side to side. Upon not seeing any blood a smile returned to his face. “Your wrists have some bruising.”

“I’m fine….” I responded, I was honestly so disgusted and ashamed that I didn’t do anything to stop the drunk from pushing me against his member, I felt so violated. “It was nothing to worry about, but thank you.” I tried to pass off my most genuine smile I could muster.

“You know… they might come back for you later.” Jack said. The thought hadn’t occurred to me and I could feel the blood drain from my face when he said that.

“You will need to be careful when walking home tonight.” He said earnestly, still holding onto me. It took me a moment to register that I was still in his arms, I pulled myself away from his warm grasp, which left me disappointed.

“I’m off in an hour, if you're still around by then I might just get you a drink as a thank you.” A bright grin lit up his face.

I turned back to continue work, picking up the mug that I had dropped onto the floor. Wiping up the droplets of ale so no one would slip,I wondered if I could engineer a way to fall, preferably into his arms… Bringing the mug to the back, the other waitress that had gotten a little too comfortable at her only table pulled me aside with a sneer.

“You know I was working that table all night! Now because of your stupid stunt they stuffed me with the bill and I got nothing from it!” She berated. “You’re the one who’s going to pay for that table's drinks tonight because you couldn't play nice with those drunks.”

“You know if you did your damned job you would have more than enough tips to cover that. I’m not paying for those disgusting pigs because you want to play as a whore in a brothel.” I growled back, pushing against her clenched fist. “You need to get out of my face, I have people who are hungry and thirsty to take care of. Either you can help me and take care of your section or go home because you're wasting everyone’s time!” I pushed her back, though a little harder than intended, and she fell back into the wall and slid down. She began to cry and pretending to be hurt, ‘Great she’s making a scene’ I thought to myself.

“What is going on here?” I heard the manager's voice and the pit of my stomach sank to the bottom of my feet. This girl had a thing with the bar manager for a while now. I knew that I was done for the moment she ran crying into his arms spewing lies that I attacked her after scaring off a large group of customers and refusing to take responsibility and pay their bill. He turned to me with sheer abhorrence in his eyes.

“You’re fired. Get out of my pub.” He said curtly as she smiled under the crocodile tears streaming down her face.

“Who needs a good worker when you have a good lay right?” I stated plainly as I tossed the manager some coins. “This is for the table with the Green Mantis Captain, it should cover his drinks and one more if you think you’re competent enough to bring him one without falling on his cock too.” I chided.

Making sure to grab my bag before I left, I made a beeline for the door, trying to keep my head held high. I cannot allow myself to show any weakness. I was intentionally avoiding any possible glances with the Magic Knight Captain, as I had promised him to buy him a drink as thanks. But what I didn’t promise was to stay and enjoy the drink with him. Would he even enjoy having me in his presence?

“Leaving so soon? I thought you would buy me a drink heh heh. Don’t tell me you're trying to get out of your promise! If you did, I wouldn’t have to wonder what it would be like to slice up something so innocent. Heh heh heh.” A familiar voice said while looming over me with a large grin plastered across his face and his cheeks rosy from the alcohol.

“I’m sorry about that! My shift finished early tonight, but I did pay for your drinks and one more if you wanted. I just have to go now.” I said faking a smile, as I was trying to keep my injured pride concealed. I turned to walk away towards the door to leave. Opening the door the air outside was cool as it washed over me causing me to shiver. The uniform was short and didn’t provide much in the way of protection from the cold. I wonder what my ass looks like from behind, and if he is paying any attention to my departure.

[mor-beck-more-problems]

O, the Iron-y || Morgan & Cece

Timing: Last Night

Parties: @thebickedwitchoftherest & @mor-beck-more-problems

Summary: Witchy roommates unite when Morgan needs help identifying what, exactly, happened to the body she found with Kaden. 

Contains: discussions of violence

“You know, someday when people aren’t getting murdered right and left, or at least when I’m not coping with so much trauma, we really need to get back to our trashy TV nights,” Morgan sighed from her spot on the floor. It had been a long time since she’d played corpse on the floor with herself, but the sight of that body had really done a number on her. Sure, she’d killed, but not like this. Not for pleasure or power or trophies or...whatever the hell was behind this. Morgan couldn’t imagine anything awful enough to just push someone into becoming so cruel. To treat supernaturals like bloody litter on the side of the street. “You could come to my place, if you wanted. The TV is so huge, you could practically see every pore on the bachelorette’s face.” She sighed again. Her enthusiasm wasn’t quite there even if she meant every word. She craned her head back to see the little witch at work. “I hope it’s a given, but thank you again, for doing this for me. How’s it going with those samples I gave you?”

Cece was leaning against the counter, staring down at Morgan and glancing every so often at her computer. From what Cece knew about the body, this didn’t seem like anything normal. Testing for normal drugs in the system could prove to be a complete waste of time. But even magic was rooted in some science. Sometimes over the counter drugs were used to create some of the most powerful spells. It all depended on the imagination, and the stamina. Finding out what she could about the body from a logical, scientific perspective could influence her findings. “That sounds amazing. The only thing that could make that show funnier is by focusing on every imperfection they have. Plus, I’ll feel like a Kardashian watching it from a rich person tv.” She tossed a glance back to the screen. Still loading in the results. “I should be thanking you. You gave me something to do on an otherwise boring night.” She also ended up back at work, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. “I’m running some normal tests first. Trying to see if anything sticks out. It can help me try to determine the clearly supernatural shit that went down. What can you tell me about the body?”

“Figuring age is hard with fae, I think, but she was an undergrad at the university. Maybe nineteen or twenty. Um, you’ve actually got...pretty much all that’s left of her. I found her with a friend just...abandoned. I’m assuming some warden is taking trophies, or...fuck, I don’t know. Having fun. Taking out some human supremacist bullshit on…” Morgan grimaced and forced herself to breathe slowly. Three months dead, almost, and it was still the first thing she wanted to do. Just breathe. Just bring the world back into the right rhythm, the right meter. “I mean, of all the ways you could possibly hurt a fae--” She shook her head, shuddering. “It was like an acid attack, only it must have been iron, right? Those are the weird, stiff pieces on the body, right? I mean, those burns, they’re everywhere. How much time did they spend planning this?” But there’s gotta be...I don’t know, some kind of underground Hunters R’ Us out there, right? Some signature that can be traced back to something specific, right? Or at least, I don’t know, if we know how, maybe someone can be like, oh yeah, my buddy goes around flinging iron at kids with wings. Great guy, why’re you mad?” She breathed again, realizing she was getting worked up again. She wasn’t going to help anyone like that, least of all whoever the body had been.

“ All that’s left of them.” It hadn’t been a question so much as a disappointed statement. Cece was concerned by what had been left of the victim. Cece had limited knowledge of Fae, but she knew enough to know that cold iron wasn’t their friend. For this girl, it looked like whoever did this really hadn’t like her. But Cece knew enough about the world to know that may not necessarily be true. Some people hunted them from some sense of duty, or for sport. People didn’t need a motive to be sick fucks. At least have the decency to make it quick. “Yeah, looks like iron burns,” Cece nodded, “They could have drugged her first. Made her easier to capture. I should know in a couple minutes.” Morgan was getting worked up over the murder. As far as Cece knew, this had just been a body Morgan stumbled across. But that seemed to be how Morgan operated. She cared a lot for everyone. “It’s hard to tell, honestly. A lot of the hunters I’ve known follow a code, but there are just as many that do it for fun. But I know there are hunters in town. From the looks of it, they were responsible for this. But I can’t promise I’ll be able to narrow it down based on some tox screen results.” She didn’t have any better answers or anything to offer Morgan at the moment besides her smile and the knowledge that she would help Morgan with whatever her next steps were. Cases like these were hard to explain and even harder to solve. Normally, justice may go unsolved. Cece didn’t have much to say in the way of justice, but she did know she could help a friend out. “And what do we do? If we found out who did it?”

Morgan grimaced and held her stomach tighter. “I’ll never understand that. I’ve done some shitty and questionable things, but this...it was slow and awful. They wanted her to suffer.” At least when she killed it hadn’t been torture. That counted for something; that was different. “We...I don’t know. Find out why. Make them answer to...someone, for what they did. Maybe she had family, or maybe...I don’t know. But I am so tired of supernaturals getting hurt and killed and forgotten. It’s bullshit. We’re people just as much as anyone else, but we’re the ones collared and thrown into cages or hunted like pests or living like who we are is something to be ashamed of or tortured and thrown where-the-hell-ever. How are we supposed to live like this, with humans, hunters, getting to hurt us for free whenever they want? Someone has to pay and I’m just...I’m tired of it. Don’t you ever get tired of hiding, Cece? I’d give up my body regrowing to have enough magic to make whoever did this pay.”

For what it was worth, Cece agreed with Morgan. As far as magic went, Cece had lived a pretty open life. The coven kept itself secret for sure, but she still was able to learn and grow with other magic users by her side. Things turned dark and for the worst, sure but at least she wasn’t hunted for it. This girl, this body was fucked. She had been targeted, hunted and tortured before they let her die. “Before we fall down that rabbit hole, you should figure out exactly what you want them to answer to. For people like them, justice isn’t clear cut. There’s no proving something like this in court. So, make sure we know exactly what we’re getting into before we decide what should be done with them.” How else did Cece lay this out to her? If Morgan wanted them eradicated from the planet, Cece was there. She had seen too many bodies like this. Leftovers from the coven, hell even herself. “It’s exhausting. Lucky for us, I’ve still got the magic for both of us.” Something flashed across her screen and she turned to look at it. “I can’t find any logical explanation as to what caused the metal to melt into her skin like that. But I’m pretty damn sure I have a theory.” Cece sighed, wishing that it had been something simple. “Can you go into my bag? Front pocket. There’s a container with a power that looks like soot. Grab that for me and sprinkle it onto the pieces of metal. I want to test something.”

Morgan knew what she wanted, if she could only admit  it out loud. She wanted the hunter who did this to suffer as much as their prey had. She wanted them to fear for their lives, for their humanity, to feel the panic and indignity that she’d felt that day in the woods. She wanted them to die. A life for a life, that was the math of alchemy. And maybe she didn’t have the magic in her anymore, but she could still work her will on the world if she tried hard enough. Morgan reached for her snack pyrex and took out a chunk of muscle (deer thigh, if she remembered correctly) and started to chew slowly as she did as Cece asked. It wasn’t so bad this time now that she knew what to expect, or now that she had packed enough for a whole other meal with her. She unscrewed the lid and ran her fingers through the substance. It was so fine, it barely felt like anything, but there was a familiar sheen to it, some familiar flecks she remembered being quizzed on by her mother. It was used to detect and identify magic in a number of spells. Morgan’s brow furrowed. “You sure about this?” She asked. But Cece seemed sure enough, so, bracing herself, she sprinkled the powder over Coraline Adams’ body. The dust settled and, as her mother had trained her to memorize, a dark indigo smoke began to rise from the body.

“No,” Morgan said, backing away. “No, that’s...shit…” dust spilled from the tin and down her leg. She set it down clumsily before she spilled any more. “A witch did this?”

It hadn’t been Cece’s favorite theory. She had been keeping hope out for some type of explanation. Evidence of extreme heat, iron pills being found in the girl’s system. Something that still felt human, despite how monstrous the crime was. But the thought had been there in the back of her mind. The unexplainable could usually be explained through magic. Had her theory that a witch had been involved been at the back of Cece’s mind this whole time? Sure. She had still had her fingers crossed for the hunter theory. It was better than this alternative. More than the fact itself, Morgan’s reaction to it was what had made Cece so unhappy. She had needed to believe it was a hunter it seemed. It was hard to accept that what was once your own kind could be capable of this evil. Cece had seen it before, taken part in it. That didn’t mean she liked seeing it affect Morgan. “And worse than that, an alchemist.” Cece specified, creeping down to get a better look at the wounds. No doubt about it, the very field that Cece and Morgan had specialized in had caused this. The metal had been almost fused with the skin itself, probably while the girl had been alive. From what Cece knew about Fae and iron, the pain that would have caused would be immeasurable. It was cruel, inhumane. “At the very least, a witch was involved. Whether it was still because of hunter’s or not I can’t be sure. But we’re definitely looking for an alchemist in town. And someone with enough experience with human anatomy to know how to do this.”

“Alchemy,” Morgan repeated slowly. “They used…alchemy.” The iron hadn’t come from a stick. They hadn’t been beaten or pressed against something. The alchemist had turned the fae’s body into iron. The burns on Coraline’s face had come from a touch. “The components of the human body aren’t that complicated,” she murmured. “If you’re just trying to hurt, you don’t even need to do it well. You could just ramp up the hydrogen and nitrogen and start a combustion, or you could simulate the state of hypothermia in a few seconds, you could fill the bloodstream with sand or wear down the elasticity so it falls off, and it’s messy but if you’re just trying to kill someone or hurt them long enough to get away, it’s comparably minimal energy, but to do this...to force a body to do something like this takes practice. I mean, do you know how to do this?” She looked at Cece, completely abashed. “It’s a fucking alchemist,” she whispered again, covering her eyes and walking away from the body before she gave into the pull. “I hate this. I hate this so much. I--fuck. Thank you, Cece. I wouldn’t have guessed this, I don’t know what I would’ve done. I...I don’t know. You don’t talk to any witches in town, right?”

Morgan knew the specifics. Knew how dark their own line of magic could be. How fucked up their abilities were given a bit of anger and a rush of power. Cece studied Morgan’s anger, wondering why she herself couldn’t feel that same outrage. Had the coven desensitized her to things this much? That the closest Cece could feel for contempt was because Morgan was angry? Not for the actual body of the murdered woman that sat near them? Regardless, Morgan was angry enough for the both of them and Cece wanted to do something about that. “I could. If I wanted to.” Cece admitted. Because Morgan wasn’t wrong. This would be easy enough to do with some focus, and easy to fuck up if someone was angry enough. Passion was always a wild factor in magic. It altered it, spread lines thin and made spells harder to control. But this… “These marks are controlled. You can tell that whoever was doing this was being careful. Taking their time. It’s real fucked. And not in a good way.” Morgan questioned whether or not Cece knew any other witches. She did, but not like this. “Not any that could do this.” She didn’t know any that specialized in alchemy, and she didn’t know any that would murder someone this horrifically.

Morgan hadn’t really expected Cece to have the answer fresh out of the ether, but it would have been wonderfully easy. They could just march up to whoever’s door right then and there, demand an explanation, demand something. Sure, all witches didn’t get along, that was obvious. Some were awful. But knowing it was an alchemist shook her in a different way. Of all the things this alchemist could make, everything they could do with their magic, and they chose to destroy a fae like this. A kid. What reason could be good enough for this? What cause, what fucking spell could justify something like this. “If you, um...if you can wrap her up for me, I can take her back to my friend’s place. Figure out if there’s anyone in town who can, I don’t know, bury her or something, I guess. I...thank you, Cece, really. If you get in trouble for this I...I don’t know. I do wanna make this up to you, okay? Soon as I figure this out…”

It wasn’t hard to tell that Morgan was shaken by all of this. She had been acting strangely since she reached out to Cece, and things only got worse and worse the more they found out about it. Whatever this was, whoever did this. They needed to be stopped. That was Cece’s role now, right? Through a thick coating of irony that wasn’t long on her, she was now helping the police catch murderers and stop crimes. So this, although outside of the system and breaking so many policies that Regan’s head would pop clean off if she had been working here, was the right thing to do, right? “I got this. Seriously. Don’t worry about me. This isn’t my first rodeo.” Cece finger-gunned at Morgan, throwing in a dramatic “Yeehaw” for the dramatic effect. Someday the two could talk more about Cece’s time in the coven. Right now, considering the situation, that time didn’t seem right. “I can’t say that I know much about Fae, but I know a lot of them have their own traditions. I’d recommend reaching out to anyone you know that may be able to help out. Give her the burial she deserves and what not.” Morgan sounded like her brain was running a mile a minute, thinking too far beyond their current conversation. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll think of something you can do to make it up to me, got it? Now off you go, you’ve got an alchemist to find.”

[aviationfiction]

XXXV

Autumn Dupont

“Autumn, how the hell do you come up with this shit? Dante, you’re going to be overweight about six months into your marriage, once you two finally tie the knot.” As my lazy frame further sunk down into the chair on the right side of the dining room table, I snickered as my brother stuck his fork into the nearly finished pile of gingerbread Belgian waffles that I placed in the middle of the table about a half an hour ago. With it, I fried up a couple of pieces of boneless chicken and scrambled some eggs for the hell of it. The setting felt like an odd double date between Isaac, Lauren, Dante, and myself as we all sat around the table enjoying the breakfast I made after both men whined endlessly about being hungry.

I had no intention to make breakfast, because I wanted to go out for it and Dante was more than willing to oblige that request if I dressed myself quickly enough, but instead of pressing his pregnant wife to cook, Isaac pestered me into the kitchen and in front of the stove. With it being Christmas Eve, the gingerbread aspect of it made sense and plus it’s a recipe that I actually wanted to test out for breakfast tomorrow. Now I’m going to have to come up with something else. It’s bad enough that I’ve been baking since this morning.

“What’s that in the oven that smells so good?”

“I tested out this new recipe that I found online. It’s an apple-pecan gingerbread cobbler.” My fiancé nearly choked on his orange juice as his eyes widened in excitement at the sweetness that his taste buds will experience tonight and tomorrow night. Christmas is always my baking extravaganza. While in Miami, I was quite ridiculous with it and would do it out of sheer boredom, only to end up having to throw away the majority of it because I couldn’t eat it all alone. Anything that wasn’t trashed went to Mario’s house. I even baked for Lebron and Savannah James a couple of times and in exchange, she’d always make an extra one of her famous red velvet cakes with cream cheese frosting, just for me. Now that? I absolutely indulged and I’m not ashamed of it whatsoever.

“I can finally use the excuse that I’m eating for two and no one will bother me about it.” Lauren endearingly ran her hand across her budding belly.

The baby has certainly become an everyday topic of discussion around here with my mother being in overdrive and overkill mode. We’ve already secured a venue for Lauren’s baby shower and given the magnitude of it, the guestlist is going to contain a couple of hundred attendees. I’m not sure if I’ve ever attended or been a part of planning a baby shower that has already leaped over the imaginary twenty-five-thousand-dollar budget Isaac playfully tossed out there when it was spoken about, but twenty-five thousand seems to be just the tip of the iceberg. 

Per the parents-to-be request, if they’re having a boy, Winnie The Pooh has to be incorporated into the theme and if it’s a girl, Tinkerbell. There’s also Heather’s celebrations that I’m automatically in charge of given that I’m the only one in her life who has the best friend and “sister” title. In all fairness, her mother and I agreed on a gender reveal being done right here in New Jersey and the actual baby shower being in Miami, where both she and Mario currently reside. With Mario being from Anchorage, Alaska and Heather being from up this way, choosing Miami is fair. That way, everyone has to travel and no one can pull the “inconvenience” card due to jealousy or indifference about the event being in either one of their native cities. Despite Heather’s protest, I’m paying for a portion of both events. It’s the least I can do as the God-mother. My gift to Isaac and Lauren will be the Balmoral Pram stroller that she’s been raving about ever since she confirmed her pregnancy and maybe an incredible bassinet of some sort.

“You certainly can. I’d like to think that’s one of the joys of pregnancy; eating and relaxing.”

“It’s going to have to be a joy because it seems to be all the grandmas and your brother wants me to be doing.” The way Isaac treats her as if not even the ground is not even worthy of her footprints, says more than enough. No offense, but her being barefoot and pregnant has been his goal since the two of them met. He’s the bread winner millions of times over, so what is the point in her having to do anything else? He never once asked her to sacrifice her career for him. It was a conversation and a choice that she ultimately made and she’s been more than satisfied ever since, from what I’ve observed. So that comment is no complaint. It’s leaning more in the lane of bragging.

“Well you know how this family is.” With her. In plenty of ways, Lauren has replaced my presence around here and it’s up to me to come to terms with it and whatever it entails.

“Hey. You still feel like driving me into the city so that I can pick up that last-minute gift? If you don’t feel like it, I can take myself. It’s no big deal.”

“Yeah, of course. Whenever you’re ready.” Dante instantly nodded his head as I pushed my seat away from the table and stood up.

“I just need to take that cobbler out of the oven and wash the dishes. I should be ready once I’m done with that.”

“I can do the dishes. You cooked. I’ll wash them.” He volunteered without a second thought about it and I shooed his effort away with the wave of my hand and the shaking of my head. Even with the fiancé status, he’s a guest in the house. I could never and would never allow him to wash a dish in here.

“No. It’s fine. Just finishing digesting those waffles. I have it under control.”

“I’ll do it. Go and handle your business. I’m sure the traffic in New York is a nightmare right now. The quicker you get there, the quicker you’ll be able to come back.” Isaac’s offer came as a surprise. Though I’m unsure if there’s a motive behind it, I’ll take it for the sake of exactly what he mentioned. Last minute shoppers are always a nightmare and I’d rather not have them trigger an intense headache that is sure to ruin this Christmas Eve as I try to maneuver through their desperation to finish off their Christmas lists. What I need is already gift wrapped and awaiting my pick up. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, go. Maybe you’ll run into mom and pop out there.”

“Dear God, I hope not. She’ll keep me in the store longer.”

Once I secured my cobbler in the perfect place for it to be able to cool down, I ran upstairs to grab my bag and met Dante at the car. He’d gone out ahead out me to warm it up and to make a phone call.

It didn’t take much of a debate to get him to come and spend the holidays with my family. Initially, I was going to keep things between just he and I simply because I decorated his apartment for specifically for that and most of all, because I didn’t want to necessarily snatch him out of his comfort zone, but he insisted that he was more than okay with joining in for our dorky Christmas traditions and my enthusiasm about the holiday. The man is currently donning an exact replica of the Christmas sweater the Grinch wore to the Whobiliation in the Jim Carry live action remake, just for me. I’m one hundred percent sure he probably internally cringed when I pulled it out of the box that it came in but he put it on without much protest. I hope he’s just as enthusiastic about the matching pajamas we’re going to be wearing tonight.

“We’re going to the one on Fifth Avenue?”

“Yeah, the Rockefeller Center location.”

Per his usual, he looked on as I pulled the seat belt around myself and secured it. He then double checked it. As his eyes transitioned to the driveway, I change the station on his radio to Light FM so that I could enjoy the endless sounds of my favorite holiday songs. I’ve been doing it every single time I’ve gotten into his car or anyone else’s since the middle of November and I have no plans to stop until New Years Eve.

“You know, I’ve been watching you in action ever since December hit. You’re so in love with the holiday season. I feel like I should be mentally preparing myself for when we have kids because it’s going to be all that you’re doing now, but times a thousand.”

“Sounds about right buddy. You got down on that knee and asked, so you’re stuck with me and all of my Christmas loving antics.” Am I loser for looking forward to my first holiday Christmas card with my own family? We’re going to shoot for a holiday Christmas card once we’re married whether we have children or not at that specific point. Do you know how many of them I’d gotten in the mail in Miami from the fellow WAGs on the team? I had to deal with a stack or two being piled up on the entryway table in our foyer all throughout December. And then there’s the one that my own family does that I avoid like a plague nowadays. Even since being back, I’ve yet to find time to make it to the little photo shoot they do in the living room right after Thanksgiving. I’m one hundred percent sure that I’m going to look like the oddball and will be the one all of my relatives have so much to say about when it lands in their mailboxes. I’m the “fuck up”; you know the one who did everything wrong. The more I stay under the radar, the less they have to say about me. I thought I’d been doing a good enough job with that until Richard St. James decided to make himself a presence between his son and I.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Is it because of Heather and Lauren?”

“No. I’m thrilled for them, but I’ve always wanted kids of my own. You know this.”

“I do know that. What I mean is, does it make you want to speed up the process?”

“No, not really. As I said to you before, whatever happens will happen. I used to have a time frame on it, but I don’t anymore.”

“I have a time frame on it. I have nothing to show for myself individually. I’d at least like to get somewhere in life so that my kid will be able to be proud of me.”

“And where do you believe you are in life right now?”

“A college dropout.”

“Yeah, and so is Mark Zukerberg, Michael Dell, Steve Jobs was one, Bill Gates, Evan Williams, Jan Koum, and a bunch of others. What’s your point? I will never understand why you constantly berate and belittle yourself all in a way to unfairly compare yourself to others.” I don’t expect him to understand it, because he’s not in my position nor will he ever be. It’s something that I have to live with until I improve on it.

“Did you just compare me to the men who created Facebook, Microsoft, and Apple?”

“I compared you to college dropouts.” His lips pursed together as his brow creased in a growing frustration.

“The comparison was to make the point that the college dropout label has no standing when you go and do something beyond that. Why is it that everyone else notices the talents that you have more than you do? If going back to college is what you want to do, then baby, I’m all for it. I’ve told you that before and will tell you it again. Go back and get that degree. I know that it means something to you and you’d like to be able to at least have one higher education diploma hanging up on your parents’ mantle alongside Shane and Isaac’s. If you don’t want to go back, don’t. I’m just as fine with that. If you want to go full throttle into beginning a business for your designs, I am all for it. Whatever you need for it, I’m going to give it to you with no second thoughts or hesitation about it. Your event planning expertise is unmatched. You want to open a business for that? I’m supporting it. Whatever you want to do, I have your back, sides, and front. So, don’t sit there and make it seem like our children will look down on you because you didn’t graduate from college. If the way you take care of those who you love is any example of the kind of mother you’ll be, then consider our kids blessed.” His words never fail to silence me, especially when he’s expressing a point about what he feels about me.

In a lot of cases, we typically feel like those who love us have those moments of obligation to say something nice, whether they mean it or not, especially when we’re being our own toughest critics. Whether they truly do believe I’m a failure or not, my parents do it. My mother is always eager to have a moment to pet me and shower me with love that I sometimes do and don’t need. My father is less likely to do it than she is and it’s because I try my best not to have too many emotional moments within his presence more so for his sake than my own.

I don’t think he knows what to say to me at this point in my life other than for me to get it together and he doesn’t even say that because I’m sure he believes I’m too sensitive to hear it from him. I’ve disappointed him, though he doesn’t use that exact word or anything synonymous with it. He had to go from bragging to the entire family about my future as a doctor to maneuvering around with his head tucked between his thighs because I’d become a public spectacle. So, I usually control the direction of our conversation with one another and I keep them extremely general or focused on whatever is going on in his life. It’s for the better.

“Stacey is planning our engagement party. I just thought you should know.”

“Sounds like something Stacey would do. I’m not surprised.” At all. I’m one hundred percent sure she began planning that party in her mind as soon as he slipped the ring on my finger; maybe even before that.

“I think she wants to reach out to your mother about it. It would probably be best to include her in the planning of something like that, right?”

“I don’t know, I guess so. She kind of has herself tied up in everything going on with Isaac and Lauren’s baby, so if Stacey can bare the bulk of the work, it would probably be for the better.” The faint dust of snow trickling onto the windows immediately caused my eyes to lighten up. We’re not going to have a white Christmas at all. Because I was never anticipating it, I’m more than okay with the flurries that we’re going to get throughout today and the middle of the night. They’re further enhancing the spirit.

“Okay.”

“I already know you shut down at least twenty of her ideas about it.”

“Not twenty but maybe five or six. She’s trying to invite the whole entire New York City. You know that’s not my vibe.”

“You have a nightclub.”

“And that’s exactly why it’s not my vibe. I’d rather not have people putting on the most expensive outfit in their closet and showing up to a personal event of mine for the sake of clout chasing. If I can’t look at you and immediately recognize who you are, then no thank you. Speaking of the club, are you coming to the New Year’s Eve party?”

“I’ll be there. Will you have time for me is the real question here.”

“I will. We’re going to be double staffed that night, so that’s less of a work load on Fred, Mike, and myself. So, I’ll be by your side the majority of the time. I promise.”

“Alright, because I don’t want to have to find some random to kiss when the ball drops.”

“I’d rather not start the New Year off in handcuffs, Autumn.”

“You’re one to talk. I was five seconds away from snatching that bartender from behind the bar at the holiday party.” The smirk on his face nearly made me punch him in the chest. Though I doubt he fed into her antics, I’m sure it stroked his ego and allowed him to know that he still has that aura that can instantly make a woman drop her panties for him without him ever having to try or say anything.

“You saw that?”

“How could I not? Her eyes were following you around the room all damn night. And then, she looked like she wanted to kill me when we were speaking.”

“You had nothing to worry about. Heather was going to kill her for you. I had to hurry up and hug her so that I could get her to turn around. If looks could kill, that chick would have been instantly dead.”

“That’s my sister!” My shoulders rose in pride. I would have done the same exact thing for her.

“I already know that you know you have nothing to worry about, so I don’t think I have to reassure you, but I will anyway. I only want you.”

“Even when I’m a horny old lady and my boobs are sagging down to my stomach?”

“We’re just going to get you a good bra and I’ll pop a Viagra or two and handle that.” As I ran my hand over his arm, we shared mutual laughter over what our lives may be like when we’re somewhere in our late sixties or seventies. I’m looking forward to it. When you’re living your life and you have someone alongside you who only enhances the greatness of that, all you want to do is live out the experiences so that you’ll have something to be nostalgic about when speaking to the younger generation. God willing, our love story will be one worthy of a novel or one that will pass down through generations of our grandchildren.

The best part in myself singing and snapping my fingers along to all of my favorite Christmas hits is Dante in the driver’s seat butchering them after I invited him to join me in my glee. While snapping his fingers, he threw in words and lines that were never apart of the songs or would ever make sense. It was so comedic that I had to whip out my phone and record him. If we had the windows down, we certainly would have attracted the attention of New Yorkers walking along the sidewalks in the busy city. I had to accuse my man of being biased because while he butchered all of the songs sung by white artists, he certainly knew the Motown classics much better than he did those. I’m so mad that I didn’t bring our Santa hats out of the house with us. They would have been perfect for the video.

“This is a gift for your mother?” Dante glanced around at the display cases while I waited for my pick up order. I’d gotten her eighteen karat rose gold bangle with round rubies within it from their Atlas collection. It cost me just a little over six thousand dollars. The bracelet I originally wanted to get for her was a nearly ten karat gold cuff with three large rubies in it, but the thirty five thousand dollar price tag was a bit too hefty. Hopefully I’ll be able to grab it for her next Christmas. It’s so regal and attention commanding, much like herself.

“Yeah. It’s a bangle. She loves bracelets.”

“Good, because I got her one too.”

“Did you? That’s perfect. I know she’s going to love it and I don’t even know what it looks like.”

My curiosity had gotten the best of me, just as his did, and I too began to look around the store at the breathtaking pieces that most would only see in a fantasy. As the thought of Dante purchasing my mom a bracelet for Christmas, I couldn’t help but to think about his own and if he’d gotten her anything. I can’t even begin to imagine how it feels to have the one son born from her womb not be interested in seeing her on the most family-oriented holiday of the year.

“Wow.” I was a bit breathless as I nearly pressed my face against the glass to get a good look at the bracelet that was reminiscent of a flower bush with its light green tourmaline gems representing accenting leaves and floral patterns filled with diamonds. I’ve never seen anything like it.

“You like that?” I didn’t even know he was behind me.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Want it?” I knew it was coming. I fucking knew it.

“No.” As quickly as he asked is as quickly as I shut him down. I don’t even want to know how much it costs.

“Why? It’s Christmas.”

“So, what.”

“And you call me the fun police.” As I waved him off, he rolled his eyes.

I thought shutting him down would keep him off of my trails as I continued to look around the store, but he still continued to follow along and then linger around areas that I’d walk away from. Even after I picked up the gift, I still continued to walk around the store for a couple of minutes not only taking in the beauty of the jewelry but also the Christmas decorations donning every area of the place. I’ll miss all of the decorations when they’re gone next week.

“Are you hungry again? You want to grab a bite to eat before we go back to the house?”

“I have something else in mind. We’re in good timing too.”

“Good timing for what?”

“You’ll see.”

“See what?”

“Oh, don’t you love this song?”

The Temptations “Let It Snow” easily drowned me out during our short-lived drive. He literally only drove a few blocks and parked the car. I threw out every urge to be stubborn and continue questioning him as we walked down the sidewalk hand in hand, and I immediately wanted to jump into the air and click my heels as Radio City Music Hall came into view. I nagged about forgetting to get tickets to this show two weeks ago. We saw it literally every year when we were kids but I haven’t been in quite some time now. I’ve yet to experience the new changes such as the 3D effects and the LED lighting.

“It took ya’ll long enough. Do ya’ll know how cold it is out here?” Mike readjusted his beanie hat.

What I thought was going to be a little afternoon date between Dante and I turned out to be a group outing that included Mike, Fredrick, Erica, Stacey, and surprisingly Heather and Mario. How does this man do it?

“Aw! My friends!” The sight of all of them standing there warmed my heart more than anything else could have done within that moment. Everyone was just as festive as Dante and I in their ugly Christmas sweaters and hats. Heather had even gone all out and gotten green and red stripped leg warmers.

“Friends? Friends don’t let their friends freeze.”

“I didn’t even know.” To further annoy him, I pulled him into a bear hug and jokingly rubbed my arms up and down his body to warm him up.

“Don’t be rubbing on him. His body heat can handle that.”

“Don’t be a hater your whole life Al B Sure face ass.”

“Where were ya’ll anyway? Dante kept texting us to make sure we’re all on time and look at the late ones.” Heather cut her eyes at him.

“At Tiffany. We were literally a few blocks away.”

“Doing rich people shit, on colored people time. Sounds like Dante.” Stacey drew me in for a hug and I immediately made a mental note to ask her about her perfume.

“I’m surprised you’re here. Where’s the baby?”

“At home with my husband and his family. His mother is getting on every fucking nerve I have, so this saved me. If I wasn’t doing this, I was going out regardless. I’ll be back in time to be there with them for the evening.”

“Can we go inside? It’s fucking cold.”

“Can we? Because if he says that one more time, I’m leaving his ass out here.” Fredrick warmed Erica’s arms by doing the same exact thing that I’d done to Mike.

“Yes. Come on. We’re going through the entrance on the side of the building.”

Our kids are going to be spoiled. I’m beyond sure of it now, because I felt like the biggest pre-teen ever as we attended the pre-show reception in the Roxy Suite. He didn’t want to go and eat because there was already a ready-made buffet and open bar for all of us. And the best part? We were able to mingle with Santa and the Rockettes, take pictures, and we shared a hot chocolate toast to the coming holiday. Though they all ripped me to shreds for shedding tears of joy, I couldn’t refrain from doing so even if I tried. This is the first holiday season without an emotional roller coaster happening within my mind. I’m not experiencing those unstable moments of my mood being up and suddenly viciously crashing without warning. Though I miss Shane with every fiber of my being, I’m smiling and living. There’s a fulfillment there that I haven’t touched the surface of since everything spiraled in my world. I feel good; great even. My tears are joyous this year. I’m thankful.

“You know, this is the happiest he’s ever been for this holiday. Look at how much Scrooge is laughing.” Stacey quickly pointed towards all four men who were huddled together and laughing at God knows what as we awaited the show’s start.”

“It’s crazy, because Fredric said the same thing.” Erica winked to give me all of the credit for that.

“I know. I thought I was in overkill mode and making him uncomfortable, but he’s been such a good sport.”

“Anything for Autumn.” Heather mocked his tone of voice as best as she could.

“It’s not even like that.”

“Yes, it is.” Unison. It felt like I was standing before a choir of three as that response came out of their mouths. Okay, I’m a bit spoiled, but so what? He’s spoiled too.

“It’s alright though. Though he didn’t agree with me, he needed someone to take care of him in all of the ways that people weren’t; in ways that I couldn’t. I do my best in the big sister role, but he needed more and you came. I believe in fate. You’re damn sure that.”

“Fate, huh?” That’s an interesting way to put it.

“Hell yeah. He’s yours too. Someone had to come through and show you that Andreas wasn’t about shit when you met him and isn’t about shit now. Now look.” Indeed. I don’t regret anything and I’m not into labeling people an upgrade, but I learned when you open yourself up to change, some beautiful things can happen within your life in the best ways.

“Well damn. Just slander the man Heather.”

“Slander? I still contemplate slashing his tires at every game I attend.”

There was a point in time when I too, wanted revenge, but I’d like to think I’m having it already. Most of all, I’m having it healthily.

Our seven o’clock arrival time back at the house was the perfect timing. I’d made it back just in time before my mother began to call my phone complaining. While changing into our pajamas for the evening, I was able to wrap up her bracelet and slip it under the tree without her ever detecting it and our traditional board game festivities began. While playing, we experimented with different flavors of hot chocolate. I came up with the idea days ago and scrambled around Jersey looking for the ingredients. I think the milk chocolate peanut butter, gingerbread, coconut tres leche, and Oreo flavors were hits. I enjoyed the eggnog version more than most of them did and there was something about vegan chai flavor that slightly impressed me. I’ll be trying that one again.

“Autumn, we’re not watching the Polar Express. Grow up. We’re watching A Christmas story.” Isaac and I argue every year during movie time. We’d already been arguing because he cheated to win Monopoly but I don’t care about that. Movie time, is my time.

“I don’t want to watch that. We can watch that tomorrow after we’ve eaten and we’re all falling asleep from the itis. The Polar Express is a better watch. It has music.”

“Let her watch it.” He’d say anything to get either one of us to quiet down. My dad hates when we argue.

“No. I want to watch a Christmas story.”

“Why don’t we just watch both tonight? That should work right?” Dante’s solution sounded like bullshit to me because we’re watching Home Alone and Home Alone 2 right after.

“Nope.”

“Baby. You have to be fair.”

“I am being fair. I said that we can watch it tomorrow.” 

“Autumn. Be fair.” I thought Lauren would say something, but for whatever reason, this particular argument, she found to be hilarious. She hasn’t stopped giggling yet. It’s not even funny.

“Ma, I am being fair.”

“Whatever. She can pick the movies like she does every year. The bratty youngest child tradition continues.”

“You’re just mad because you’re old and boring.” Dante threw an arm around my shoulder as we sat on the floor and leaned against the bottom of the couch. Though he protested against wearing a onesie, there he is, sitting there in one that is identical to mine. My promise to be completely naked under mine is what convinced him to put it on, but who cares? It worked.

“And don’t forget, we’re all opening one gift before we go to bed. It’s tradition.”

“I didn’t get Autumn anything.”

“I got you something. I bought you a personality big brother.”

As I continued to search for the movie, a pillow smacked into the back of my head and laughter filled the room soon after. Once I selected The Polar Express on the screen, I relaxed against Dante in satisfaction that I’d gotten my way with the movie selection. I’ll be the same way until their child is old enough to do it. The youngest always gets to choose. That’s my tradition, whether they know it or not.

“How did you like your gift?” Unlike everyone else, Dante’s hands randomly selected one of his better gifts under the tree. I opened up a spa gift certificate from Isaac. My mother opened up a pair of Christian Louboutin pumps gifted to her from my dad. Isaac opened up Tom Ford cologne from me and Lauren squealed in excitement when she opened up The Golden Girls complete series from me. I’m not sure why she’s so obsessed with that show.

As for Mr. St. James, he opened up a vintage 1964 Rolex watch with a yellow gold smooth bezel and a navy-blue strap that even had me slightly jealous. Engraved inside was: ‘We Love You Son’. Everything about it is timeless and sophisticated. Both my mother and father had done well with that one. She claimed they picked it out because that’s exactly the vibe they’d gotten from him upon meeting him. Their observations were on point if I must say so myself.

“I’m in love with it. Your mom is the sweetest.”

“She is.”

“It further lets me know how lucky I am, because you have a lot of her qualities.”

“Look at you trying to talk me out of my panties.”

“Based upon the agreement that we made earlier, they should already be off.”

“They are.” He didn’t hesitate to reach for the zipper of the onesie to confirm it. As the weight of his body met mine, I had to laugh because I’m beyond shocked that he’s even willing to go there while in my parents’ home.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“You have to promise me something.” His lips met mine for a tender kiss as he palmed the sides of my face with his hands.

“What’s that?”

“I know you like to surprise me sometimes and I always love and appreciate it, but promise me that you will never show up to A&M again. Don’t even stop by if you happen to be in the city and want to see during my work hours. I don’t want you coming there. Okay? Promise me.”

“Why?” And just like that, paranoia settled into the room like a thief in the night and snatched the joy away.

“There’s a lot that you don’t understand right now, baby.”

“Is there someone else?” His eyes narrowed.

“I only want you Autumn. Just you. There is not and will never be anyone else. You have to trust me with this. Please.”

Before the disappointment, I saw indifference within his eyes blended with a fear that I cannot understand. His needed promise was more of a plea and if I didn’t grant it to him, he wouldn’t be at peace. But why?

“I promise.”

“I only want you Autumn.”

As our lips met again, his hands began to draw away the wool material covering my frame. He rid me of my thoughts and it had to be his intention. I could only be lost in a world that only nested he and I; a world that is slowly being invaded no matter how hard we fight back.

The sweat on our skin meshed our frames together in a stickiness as I opened my eyes from my short-lived slumber. My eyes washed over his beautiful face as he peacefully slept. The moonlight illuminated it so perfectly. As I reached my arm up to caress his skin, diamonds dazzled and danced along my wrist like the most beautiful lighting show. A gasp instantly left my chest as I stared at the bracelet I fell in love with at Tiffany. It was the only piece of anything covering my skin besides my engagement ring. How could I ever protest this? I can only be humbled and gratified; loved and cherished.

“Merry Christmas, baby.” I kissed his supple lips.

“Merry Christmas.” Though it was mumbled and rasp filled, he opened his enchanting eyes and stared into mine.

Aside from the birth of Christ, this right here is truly the reason for the season.

Love.

[whitelightning9999]

Button Kids, Part 1

Coraline was the newest to the group. He didn’t know how she did it but somehow, she managed to keep one of her eyes. That alone made her special. Special was never good.

He thought that the twins came before Coraline but maybe it was Whisper. No, it must have been the twins since he remembered seeing Whisper’s shadow when he first arrived. Whisper was weird that’s for sure. Always hiding from their Mother and talking to himself. Sometimes he could hear the other boy cry at night, but after a few months he learned it was odd to not cry.

The twins were different. The female one was the first to come. From what he had gathered, she used to be a cheerful and outgoing girl, but she had long since shattered. Now she stayed huddled up in her decaying sweater, hiding her face from everyone, never moving.

Her brother was the definition of over-protective. If Coraline would try to talk to the girl, her brother would start throwing punches. It didn’t take long for most to realize that the female twin was off limits but Coraline never got the hint. Yet another thing that made her special.

Coraline and the male twin would fight; Whisper would hide; and the female twin would never respond. Why did he feel like he was forgetting someone?

Crash

Oh yes. Fire. She had been here longer than anyone. When he first came here she had shared some of her story with him. Something about a dead mother and a father who stopped caring if he remembered correctly.

He supposed she liked him, since they were both a kind of freak. How they were freaks he didn’t remember. He just remembered being surrounded by lots of noise and people shouting. Most were calling him a freak of nature. Then there were the eyes. The eyes would haunt him in his sleep, always so full of disappointment and anger.

It was after that, that Mother found them. She had promised to love them forever. To be their new mother. Right before she shoved them in a cramped room and forgot about them.

Cramped might be too strong a word. There were a few places where one could sit down and stretch out their legs, even few spots where you wouldn’t block the path doing it. And it was cool how there was stuff from different eras. TVs, books, bicycles, and some boxes prevented the room from feeling too open, which maybe was a good thing? He didn’t know anymore, maybe this was how a kid’s room was supposed to look.

The gray coloring also made him feel at peace. He remembered one time when-

“Hello earth to Goggles, please respond.” Coraline was shaking him.

He wasn’t sure when he started but it was almost like his way of coping. He would just stop responding to the world. Guess it made him more approachable then the rest of the kids.

“I’m fine” He mumbled, his train of thoughts halted.

“You’re bleeding” Coraline stated back. She reached forward and brushed her hand against his cheek. “Hang on, I think I might have some Band-Aids in my bag.”

“There we go, good as new” She smiled at him in false enthusiasm.  

“Goggles I know I’ve asked this before but I need your help. Please. If just one kid stands up to her then maybe the others will too.”

She had tried this tactic before. Not just with him, though he might have been the only one who had stayed for the full speech.

“What about seeing your families again?”

He refused to say anything to that. Just glared in her direction.

“Maybe if we find everyone’s eyes we can remove the buttons. You don’t know unless you try Goggles.” Coraline was persistent he’d give her that.

The junk groaned. The floorboards creaked. Underneath him he could feel the dark energy swirling. Pushing and pulling the house apart. A part of him, more primal than anything, told him to run. Told him to get away but the rest of him just wanted to sit there.

From the corner of his eye he could see the male twin grabbing his sister. Whisper had found a new hiding spot near the two, taking advantage of one of the few open areas, bracing himself. Fire sounded close by, he could hear her growling, trying to light the room on fire. He supposed he should be grateful she never succeeded. With all the piles of junk, they were probably in the middle of a fire hazard.  

Eventually, the magic settled. This was normal. He could already see the male twin releasing his sister. Everybody was cooling down. Well everybody but-

“What the heck was that!” Coraline shrieked.

“Mother found a new friend” He supposed he should at least tell her what was going on. No one else was going to speak up after all. “Wonder if they’re going to join us or just be eaten on the spot”

“I hope they get eaten!” The male twin yelled across the room.

“Wait… they? As in another kid!” Coraline smiled. Not a fake smile but a real smile. He was surprised those even existed now days.

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up. Mother will just do the whole shebang; you know like what happened with you.” He pointed to her.

He could practically hear the gears in the older girl’s head turning. Soon she would have some new half-baked scheme on how they could all escape together and then back out into the real world. If he had real eyes instead of his buttons he would have been rolling them. Not that he really cared.

“Goggles” Ah here it comes. “What would you say if you and I went to go grab some bread?”

He blinked, or at least he thinks he did.

“Bread?” Even the name made him salivate.

He never thought about how it worked. He knew their mother would somehow keep them from getting hungry. It seemed like a great idea since all of them were stuck in a storage room and their mother didn’t care about them after sewing in their buttons. Plus, if they did get hungry, well, he was almost certain that the male twin would have fed them all to his sister. Or maybe Fire would have started a nice little barbecue for herself.

“Yes. Remember how the Other Mother would always make that huge feast every night?”

He thought back. Yes, he could vaguely recall something like that.

“I bet while the Other Mother is entertaining, you and I could go out of the room and grab some of the feast.”

He froze. “Go out of the room? But But-“

“I know Goggles, but I’ll be right next to you.” Coraline encouraged.

He looked down. On one hand, they could disappoint Mother. Oh, how he hated to disappoint Mother. People who disappointed Mother didn’t live very long. Yet on the other hand, BREAD.

Coraline smiled when she felt the boy grab her hand. Out of all of them Goggles had seemed the less broken. Guess she made the right choice with him.

From what she could tell none of the other children remembered their names. Some of them had nicknames from either past children (who were long since dead) or just had no names, like the two twins.

Fire and Whisper had gotten their nicknames from the stuff they could do. Whisper would often wander to vacant parts of the room and just start whispering. Fire, well let’s just say she would sometimes have to leave the younger girl alone when things started to get a little hot.

Goggles was the name she had given him when they had first met. He had looked so odd dressed in pajamas with goggles hanging from his neck. When he didn’t object, the name just kind of stuck. From what she could tell Fire was the only other kid to use it.

She hated how the Other Mother would treat all of them. Sure, it seemed nice at first, all the promises of a better life but then she would show her true nature. Coraline was ashamed to say it but she had let the Other Mother get to her. It was only because of the cat that the spell was not complete.

Afterwards Coraline remembered seeing the true horrifying form of the Other Mother. From there, she had run to the tiny door, inhuman shrieks following her. Somehow, she and the cat had managed to escape the unnatural world, crawling through the fabric tunnel to her freedom. But the Other Mother was crafty, tricking Coraline into one final trap.

"Have fun in the other world my daughter. Don’t worry about me. I’ll have plenty of company with my other children.”

She froze. “Other children?”

“Yes, the other children. The ones whose souls I haven’t tasted yet.”

The cat ran his tail under her nose. “Don’t let her trick you. Your almost there.”

“How do I know you’re not lying” She turned to look at the spider-like woman.

A crooked smile appeared on the Other Mothers lips. From behind her back she pulled out five dolls.

“Would you like to meet them my daughter? I’m sure they would love the company”

She bit her lip. The Other Mother had lied to her before.

“Yeah, I think I would.” She couldn’t leave those kids here to die.

“Excellent.”

“Here it is” She said looking at the mirror. “Now let’s see if it works.” She pressed her hand against the reflective surface, only to see the glass ripple.

“Is it supposed to do that?” Goggles asked behind her.

She grinned and grabbed his arm.

“Yep!” she cried as she pulled him through.

The mirror rippled before throwing out two bodies into the hall. A large bang echoed through the newly designed house.

Standing up she brushed the imaginary dust from her pajamas, before turning to the younger boy behind her.

Goggles just looked up at her, his dark green button eyes seemed to plead the question ‘what now’.

She blinked. She hadn’t notice it but their jail cell had been void of any color. Now that they were outside she had found that she missed what the room had been lacking. Though the unlit hall way didn’t show much in the way of color.

“Come on. We don’t know how much time we have until she’s done with her guest” She said proceeding through the hallway. She felt the boy close behind her.

The house’s layout had definitely changed. No longer was it the mirror image of her own house. Instead it felt almost older. A few end tables they passed had doilies covering them. She thought she saw a few areas where the house had been fixed up, but she didn’t dwell on it. Instead, Coraline tried to focus on moving toward the light, and hopefully the dining area.

As they navigated yet another corner, she reached to cover Goggles’ mouth. Cringing as he let out a small gasping noise.

In front of the two, was a doorway leading to the brightly lit dining room. The Other Mother’s shadow, cast on the adjacent wall, stood frozen with her mouth open.

“Everything ok?” a familiar voice asked.

“Of course it is! I just remembered your other father wanted to see you in his workshop. Would you be a dear and see if he needs any help?” Her gut turned upon hearing the fake voice.

“Uh… Sure I guess I could do that… but…”

“But what?”

“Well I’ve always wanted to build a family project. I even made my own design, see!”

“… I really should clean up dinner.”

‘Please go’ She thought. ‘I just need a little free time’. She could feel Goggles trembling beneath her hands.

“Please! It would mean the world to me”

She heard the Other Mother sigh. “Well alright I guess we can see if your other father’s busy”.

As the shadow moved away, she let go of the other kid’s mouth.

“Okay Goggles here’s the plan. We go in there and- “.

“G- Get the bread right?” He finished her statement.

She nodded as she looked around the door. Both the Other Mother and the new kid were gone.

“And maybe a bit extra if we can” She added stepping into the room.

Quickly, she grabbed as much finger food as she could, stuffing it inside her bag. From the corner of her eye she could see Goggles do the same with a dishtowel.

“I think we have enough Goggles lets go before-“

A low pitched scratching sound echoed around the room.

“Hush, my dolls, go to sleep,

Evening shadows softly creep;”

Coraline beckoned Goggles to her.

“Stars a-twinkling in the skies,

Dolls, too, should close their eyes.”

The Other Mother’s head appeared around the door frame.

“All the toys are put away,

Ready for another day;”

Her body shifted with each step the woman took.

“Waiting for the morning light,

Dolls, too, should say Goodnight.”

The Other Mother lunged for the two.

Hope you enjoy, the next installment will be in a week.

Happy October

Part 2

[joeybelle]

Starlight - Chapter 21

Relationship: Cassian Andor / Original Female Character

Rating: Mature

Tags: Pre-Rogue One, Romance, Feels, Hurt-Comfort

“Doctor Enoch, there’s a message for you,” said one of the guards, poking his head through the automatic doors of the med bay and handing her an official looking envelope with the Rebel Alliance crest printed on it.

Cora furrowed her brows in confusion, but took the letter, thanking the messenger. She turned to Doctor Crane once the guard left the med bay. The doctor was sat at his desk, going over some patient files on his data-pad, looking positively bored.

“What is this?” she asked, holding the envelope between two fingers, like it was going to bite her. “Why are they sending me official looking papers? Is this their way of telling me they want me gone?”

Doctor Crane snickered. “I doubt it, your services are still very much needed,” he said, throwing her a glance over the data-pad in his hands.

“Is it a death sentence, then?” she continued, ripping open the letter. “Doctor Corinthia Enoch… blah blah blah…” She started reading, her enthusiasm diminishing with every passing second. “We inform you that…” Her face, previously scrunched in confusion suddenly turned into a grimace. “Ok, fuck.”

“What does it say?” The doctor took off his reading glasses and put the data-pad down, ready to tackle whatever crisis may arise.

“Well, it says that if I want to keep being assigned to off-world missions in case of emergency I have to pass a combat skill assessment.”

“Oh, just that? It’s just a routine thing for everyone who, like you, may go into combat from time to time. They just want to check if you still know the basics. I wouldn’t worry if I were you,” he said, putting his glasses back on.

“I worry,” she said, taking a seat on the other side of the desk. “I haven’t been thought proper combat training since… hell, since I left the DA team,” she said, running her fingers over her chin. “That was like… more than a year ago. Oh, Lord, time flies,” she said, with the air of someone who just woke up from a year-long coma.

“You’ll do fine!” He dismissed her worries with a vehement wave of hand. “You’ve had years of training and one never really forgets what they’ve learned.”

“But it’s in less than a week,” she whined. “And I’m completely out of shape,” she said counting on her fingers, “I haven’t shot a blaster in months, hell, I’ve only went to the shooting range twice since I’ve been here, I haven’t been in a battle simulation in more than a year. Besides, I have no idea what is required for such an assessment.” She sighed and rested her chin on the edge the desk, fidgeting with a pencil.

“Why don’t you ask Captain Andor?”

“How would he know?” she asked, moving her head slightly so she could look at the doctor. Was he in the assessment board? If so, could he be bribed?

“He’s been training new recruits for years, he’s bound to know.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled. “Plus, if you’re really worried about the test, he could help you with some training sessions.”

“I couldn’t ask,” she said, propping her head into her palm.

“And why not?”

“He’s busy.”

“How do you know that?”

“He’s always busy,” she said, and there was a barely noticeable trace of sadness in her voice.

“You won’t know until you ask,” he said in a friendly, but earnest tone. “Don’t be afraid to ask your friends for help, Cora.”

She knew he was right, but at the same time, she hated the idea of being a burden. She’d spent so much of her life facing every challenge alone, that asking for help somehow felt weird. But she also knew that isolating herself whenever she had a problem wasn't the way to go.

“I’ll ask him about the requirements,” she decided. “I’ll need some training, but I think I can handle that on my own.”

“As you wish,” the doctor said from behind the data-pad. “However, you should leave early today,” he suggested. “See if you can find Cassian tonight. If he can’t help you out, I’m sure he’ll be able to at least point you in the right direction.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll do that,” she said, still nervously fidgeting with the pencil.

But despite leaving work early, the sun was already setting when she headed towards the training grounds. Doctor Crane had asked a few people during a break and found out that Cassian was currently tasked with teaching survival techniques in case of forced landings to a bunch of new pilots, and could be found somewhere around the training grounds. So Cora left work a little early, changed out of her medical uniform and into something a little more comfortable, she hoped, gathered all her courage, which wasn’t that much, and went to search for Cassian.

She found him near the landing strip, explaining something to a couple of pilots that could have been the new recruits, even though some looked a lot older than Cassian. Cora waited patiently until he dismissed them, before approaching him with a weak smile on her face.

“Good evening, Doctor,” he said, smiling back at her with a little more confidence. “What can I do for you?” Professional and direct, as always.

“I received this today,” she said, handing him the paper. She had shoved it into her pocket, so now it was a crumpled mess. “Doctor Crane said that you might know what exactly is required during such an assessment.”

Cassian took the paper and silently read it. There was a slight frown on his face, like he was concentrating a bit too much on what he was doing, a frown that Cora had noticed didn’t usually leave his face when he was working. When they were alone, however, it was a different story.

They didn’t spend every night together since he came back to base, after the Samarkand fiasco, but they did, one way or another meet every day. And it wasn’t just bumping into each other at the coffee machine, no, he diligently came in for his checkups, but only if she was working that day, and didn’t bolt out the door the moment she was done with changing the bandages; he sat with Lewella and her at lunch, especially since Melshi had come back and joined them too; they played Sabacc in their underground bar when some of the others came back, and although Cora lost every game she played, she had too much fun to care; and sometimes, she’d hear a light, but insistent tapping at her door at night.

“Basically,” he said, handing her back the paper, “you just show up, shoot in the general direction of the target without injuring anyone and you’ve passed.” He looked at her with a soft smile on his lips. The golden light of the sunset his his face in all the right places, making him glow. For a moment, he looked so surreal that Cora almost forgot to breathe.

“I think you’re being a little too optimistic,” she laughed, shoving the paper back in her pocket.

“About the assessment, or about you not injuring anyone,” he joked.

“Both I guess?” She shrugged. “I haven’t had any proper training in months and I doubt Draven’s gonna let me off the hook that easily, he’s always been against me doing anything.”

“Draven’s not going to be there,” he said, full of confidence. “And besides, combat medics and doctors are too valuable to deny them to work for us.”

“Maybe, but they won’t let me go off-world if I don’t pass,” she said, looking away, a wave of shame slowly creeping over her no matter how much she tried telling herself there was nothing to feel ashamed about. Some doctors, like Aidan, dar absolutely no military training or just refused to go into combat, and they still did a great job on base. No one ever judged a doctor for not going into battle, and even though she knew this wasn’t part of the deal she’d made with the Alliance, she still felt like it was part of her duty.

“I thought you didn’t like confrontation.”

“I don’t, but… I just wanted to help, you know,” she shrugged.

She was still afraid of having to go into battle and of the horrors it brought, she still had nightmares of the things she had seen while working for the Empire, and even worse ones about the things she hadn’t seen but imagined. And right now she felt part of the fight, so she wanted to take an active part in it. Now she understood, from the stories others had told her, just how sheltered she had been all her life, and how little she knew about the cruelty of the Empire. And she felt somewhat responsible for being blind to it all. Because no matter how long she denied it, if she had really wanted to know what was going on, she could have just looked out the window. But she didn’t, because it was easier to silence her conscience that way.

Over time she had learned the stories of the ones that had willingly joined the Rebellion, and she couldn’t pretend to be blind anymore. She had to admit that the Empire was a terrifying place, and once she did so, she couldn't stay passive anymore, she couldn’t be an accomplice of the Empire any longer. She had to do something.

“I’ll train you,” Cassian said. “If you want.”

Cora looked at him. He didn’t really seem the type of person to offer something just to be polite. But she also knew that he was the type of person that would bend over backwards to help the people he cared for, so she really hoped he had the time for it and she wouldn’t be too much of a burden.

“If you’re not too busy…” she replied, still a little unsure.

“I have too much time off these days.” He smiled, but Cora didn’t believe him. He always seemed to be busy with something. “Follow me.”

“Now?”

“Why not? The night is young. Do you have anything else planned?”

“No,” she had to admit. She had zero social life.

The sun had gone down and the landing strip was becoming darker by the second, the last reminder of the warm, golden light that bathed them a few minutes before was now staining the horizon. There was something a little frightening about nights outside, surrounded by nature. It felt like everything was alive and moving and who could know what those shadows were hiding. But Cora diligently followed him, telling herself that she wasn’t in fact scared, just a little apprehensive.

The training grounds extended far into the jungle—exactly how much, Cora didn’t know because she had never ventured past the perceived edges of the base. Unknowingly, she’d stayed into the perimeter that had once been dictated by the restraining bracelets. Fortunately, Cassian guided her towards one of the metal warehouses built just at the edge of the rainforest.

“What’s your weapon of choice?” he asked, turning on the lights.

Cora blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the sudden shift in light intensity. The warehouse interior was designed to be a small shooting range, complete with moving targets. The whole setup looked familiar, although it wasn’t as big and new as the ones she had seen in the Empire.

“Standard,” she replied. “E-11. And DLT-19x if needed.”

“You were a sniper?”

“Not a good one. But I had steady hands and lots of patience,” she said, wiggling her fingers, “so they tried making one out of me. Could also hold my pee for long periods of time. But now it seems my hands are better suited for surgeries.”

Cassian smiled and handed her a blaster. “We’ll see. Load the blaster and shoot your first target,” he said, and his voice sounded authoritative. She kinda liked it.

“Sir! Yes, Sir!” she smiled, and did as she was told.

The weapon felt cold and foreign in her hands, even though its outline was familiar. The process of loading it was done almost automatically, but she had to fiddle a little to get the ammo in its slot. She remembered that a long time ago she could do it in complete darkness, upside down, submerged in water or in the middle of a sandstorm, and it stung a little bit knowing that she had lost that dexterity. But she was no longer a soldier, she had to remind herself. She was still in the military, but she was no longer a soldier.

She hit the target with ease, the gun recoiling slightly in her hand. It wasn’t a perfect shot, but it was pretty close. A non-moving target that wasn’t that far away wasn’t a problem for Cora, even with almost no training.

“Not bad,” said Cassian.

“Well, I was part of the training program for three years, they wouldn’t have kept me for so long if I was completely crap.”

“Why did they let you go then? They could have just denied your transfer.”

“I can’t handle stress very well, apparently, and they noticed it. Whenever there was a slight chance that I might get shot, well, let’s say that I lost all capacity to think…” she said, looking down at the blaster, the black gun feeling heavier in her hand. “I wasn’t very good at shooting people either.”

“That’s the whole job description.”

“Wrong career choice. Some people choose journalism, I chose the military.”

Cassian snickered and pressed some buttons on a control panel.

“Let’s see how good are with moving targets.”

“Not great,” she said, sighing.

And she wasn’t. She hit 12 out of 20, and with the last ones, the ones that moved really fast, she wasn’t even close. She sighed and turned to Cassian with a sour look on her face.

“This is why I am telling you that I’m not going to pass the assessment,” she said, handing Cassian the blaster.

“You will pass it,” he said, pushing the blaster back into her hand. He seemed really convinced of it.  “I can help you pass it if you want,” he offered. “But you have to realize that if you do, you will have to go into battle sooner or later. Even though you won’t be required to be on the front-lines, you never know what you may stumble onto. Until now, both of your off-world missions have been pretty eventful, to say the least.”

Cora snorted. “They didn’t advertise the job properly.”

“It’s up to you if you want to keep doing it. You could just do your job here, on base.”

“Do I have a choice? With so little personnel, every…”

“You always have a choice,” he said, and the look in his eyes became a little darker. “Don’t ever blame it on others.”

Cora felt a lump forming in her throat. He was right, once again. She had to take responsibility for her own actions. Trying to shift the blame onto someone else did not make you less responsible for your decisions.

“Yeah, I want to do it. I’m not sure I can, though.”

“I can help you with that too, up to a point. Get you back into shape,” he said with a stern look on his face. “But what you do in the field, that’s up to you.”

“You make it all sound so ominous,” she joked, trying to break the serious atmosphere, not wanting to have to admit that she may never be able to hold her own in an actual fight, no matter how determined she was to try. “You must be fun at parties.”

“I’m very fun at parties,” he said in the same serious tone, his face not moving any additional muscle, and Cora couldn’t help but laugh. She stifled the urge to put the gun down, run her fingers through his hair and kiss him until she lost her breath. “Shall we try this again?” he asked, waking Cora up from her daydreaming.

“Yeah, let’s do this.” She got into position and waited for Cassian to start the machine.

“Be a little more patient this time. You don’t have to shoot them the moment they come into view. Most of them move slowly enough for you to have time to take aim properly,” he instructed. “The targets come at random, but they use they same algorithm. Do this enough and you’ll see that after a while you’ll be able to predict where the next target will show up. Ready? Go!”

Cora tried her best to follow his advice, but she still rushed into shooting the targets as they showed up. After a few more rounds though, she was able to keep her impatience a little more in check, so she hit a few more. With each passing try she was getting more and more used to the strange feeling of having a blaster in her hand once again after so many months of not touching a gun. When Cassian told her to stop, she was able to hit an average of 17 out of 20 targets.

“You did good tonight,” he told her as he was putting the blaster back in its place in a metal case.

“Could have been better,” she said, massaging her arms. She found out she was more out of shape than she’d previously thought, but it was no surprise. With long, tiring shifts almost every day, she really didn’t feel like hitting the gym in her time off. “I used to be able to hit all the targets.”

“You’ll get used to it,” he reassured her, patting her shoulder. “I’m not teaching you anything new, you already know everything I’m telling you. You just need a little time to remember.”

“Will I have enough time until the assessment?”

“Forget about the assessment,” he said, his hand still heavy on her shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about that, I keep telling you. That is just child’s play.” With a smile he took his hand off her shoulder and went back to putting things away. “But if you want to train anyway, I’ll meet you here tomorrow.” Cora nodded enthusiastically and Cassian snickered. “When is your next shift?”

“Tomorrow, in the afternoon. Im probably going to be at work past midnight.”

“Then I can meet you here in the morning, if it’s not too much for you.”

“How early?”

“Whenever you want.”

“Sunrise?” she asked in a burst of enthusiasm that she instantly regretted.

“Fine by me.”

“Really?” She half expected/half hoped he’d politely decline and suggest a more reasonable hour, but it seemed that Cassian wasn’t too bothered by it. “Do you ever sleep?” she asked, leaning a little closer to him, but not quite touching.

“As if you didn’t know,” he said, smiling sheepishly and Cora wanted to just grab his cheeks and kiss him. But she didn’t because even though she was pretty sure there was no one around to see it, it wasn’t a thing people usually did in public, and she wasn’t sure Cassian would be ok with that. Overthinking again.

“I’ve never actually seen you sleep,” she said, leaning into his frame, placing a hand onto his shoulder and watching him place the ammo into another case.

“That’s only because you fall asleep first,” he smirked. “And speaking of sleeping, you should go to bed as soon as possible. You’ve had a long day and it’s late.”

Cora had to cover her mouth to stifle a yawn. “I’ll have to go through the mess hall first, I completely forgot to get dinner, and I sort of skipped lunch as well…”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, the frown back between his eyebrows.

“I forgot. You’d be surprised how easily stress can suppress your appetite.” She shrugged. “Unfortunately, I’m not sure the mess hall’s still open at this hour. There’s someone bringing food to the night shift, but I’m not sure they make any extra.” It wasn’t that big of a problem, she was sure she still had some energy bars in her room since she always had some on hand for a quick snack when she was too busy at work, but a normal meal would be nice before going to sleep.

“I know someone we can talk to,” Cassian said, guiding her outside and locking the door behind them.

The sky was perfectly clear for once, so Cora could see the myriad of stars once again. It was a beautiful night, some of the usual humidity having lifted, the air feeling unusually crisp and refreshing. Cassian stood next to her, his hands in his pockets, silently admiring the view.

“They look different from down here,” she said. “They’re just as beautiful nonetheless.”

“Yes, they are,” he said, still looking at the sky, the content look on his face softening his features. Cora smiled, looking at him, a warm fuzzy feeling taking over.

“Let’s go find something to eat before we self-digest,” she said starting to walk towards the hangar, hoping he wouldn’t notice the blush that had crept over her cheeks.

They walked into the building and guided by Cassian, they found their way into the kitchens through one of the back doors. Cora had never been there, only caught passing glimpses through the swinging doors when they brought the food to the mess hall. It was a fascinating and foreign new territory, since she’d never been to an army kitchen before, or at least, not that she could recall. Truth be told, she hadn’t been much in normal kitchens either, since all her life she had eaten canteen food.

The kitchen was spotless and well organized, something she found a bit surprising seeing as everything seemed to be on a different level of chaos on base. There was only one man in the whole kitchen, placing some vegetables into a huge tray.

Cassian approached the large man, and Cora followed closely behind, feeling a little out of place. She smiled as Cassian greeted him and asked if there were any leftover food for them.

“Depends,” he replied in a heavy accent that Cora couldn’t pinpoint, after looking them up and down for a few moments. “Are you on a date?” The question was followed by a huge smile, baring more teeth than Cora thought possible to be in only one person’s mouth. Something told her he wasn’t fully human, but she couldn’t tell for sure.

“No,” Cassian replied, with his usual air of nonchalance. Cora, on the other hand, nearly choked on her own saliva. Did they look like they were on a date? Probably, why else would they be together at that late hour. “Just hungry,” Cassian explained.

The cook looked at them once again, then turned back to his tray of vegetables. “Then you’ll have to cook for yourselves. Whatever you find in the kitchen is yours to use, but don’t make a mess.”

“But what if we were on a date?” Cora asked, unable to stop herself, curiosity getting the best of her.

“Same thing,” the cook said, throwing her a brief, toothy smile over his shoulder, “but you know, with some lit candles and stuff.”

Cora snorted, crossing her arms over her chest and following Cassian with her eyes. He was already looking through the cupboards, and seemed to be feeling quite at home.

What if it were a date, she wondered. She had never been on an actual date before, her lifestyle never allowed it, although she considered their outing on Samarkand a sort of date. It was the start of whatever they had right now. And what they had might not have been much, but to her, it was special. So yeah, a candle lit dinner would have been nice. Was it too late to ask?

“Do you want to make something?” Cassian asked, pointing towards the stove.

“No, I don’t know how to cook,” she blurted out, feeling her cheeks redden with embarrassment when the only two pairs of eyes in the room fixed on her. “I never had to learn,” she mumbled apologetically, hoping she didn’t sound too much like an entitled aristocrat.

“Then I’m going to make you one of my special omelettes,” Cassian said with a cheeky smile, completely disregarding her confession. Cora let out a sigh of relief, and nodded. “It’s probably one of the best you’ll have on base.”

“Now you’re just bragging,” the cook said, shoving the huge tray in one of the even bigger ovens. “I know you’re trying to impress, but you learned to cook in the slums, and it shows. She ought to have more refined taste.” He grinned, and Cora could tell it was just that sort of friendly teasing that happened between manly men, but for a fraction of a second Cora could see a shadow clouding Cassian’s features, so she really wanted to kick the cook in the shins.

“If I can survive on canteen food, I can eat anything,” she shot back. “My taste buds are already numb, I can’t even remember what real food tastes like.”

“Ouch! She’s mean!” the cook said, smiling broadly, looking like he wasn’t in the least bothered by the insult. And even if he was, he kinda deserved it. (Also the food was really bad. She most likely wasn't the first one that told him that.) He fiddled with the oven knobs for a moment before straightening his back, enjoying the cracking sound it made. “I’m gonna go take a shower until these things cook,” he said, pointing towards the oven. “Make sure not to burn the place down before I come back.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time that happened,” Cassian mumbled, loud enough for the cook to hear.

“Be careful, kid.”

Cora waited until the cook left the kitchen before leaning on the counter next to Cassian, watching him pull out different ingredients from a huge fridge.

“Did you set the kitchen on fire before?” she asked.

“Not me. He did,” he smirked, a little devious. “But not this kitchen, it happened on another base.”

“And he’s still employed? How did he manage to do that?”

“Left the oven unsupervised.”

“Should have guessed it,” she laughed. “What are you making?” She leaned a little closer, looking at the unfamiliar ingredients. She recognized the potato and eggs, but the rest of the vegetables she couldn’t identify.

“Umm, nothing fancy,” he said, scratching the back of his head and looking a little embarrassed. She guessed that the comment made earlier by the cook had curbed his enthusiasm a little. “Just something quick.”

“Quick and filling are my favourite things,” she said, pressing a hand on her stomach, trying to make it stop rumbling. Well, that phrase could be interpreted in more than one way… “Is there anything I can help you with? I’ve never cooked before, but if you show me what to do, I promise to stitch the ensuing cut fingers myself.”

Cassian laughed, and started peeling some of the vegetables. “There isn’t much you can help me with,” he said, and Cora felt relieved. Although she wanted to help, she really didn’t want her lack of skill to be on display. She was sure Cassian wouldn’t laugh at her, after all he didn’t laugh at her when she was in target practice, but seeing herself fail again today wasn’t really needed. So instead she was happy to watch Cassian, who seemed to be just as skilled at peeling potatoes as he was at shooting guns.

Although she could see that being grounded was making him restless, having some time off was doing him good. He had put on a little weight, her professional eye told her. Not too much, he wasn’t going to get a beer belly anytime soon, but his cheeks didn’t look as sunken in as they did so many times when he came back from his missions. She could feel it when they were sleeping together, his bones didn’t seem to be sticking out as much and he felt heavier when he rested on top of her. Also, he seemed to smile a lot more.

When she first met him, so many months ago, she didn’t think he ever smiled. He seemed so constipated, Cora was sure he needed to use some emotional laxatives from time to time. But lately he had loosened up, at least behind closed doors or among friends. As far as she knew, he was just as stiff in public as he always was. But now they had moments like this, when the frown was gone and a content expression took its place. Some stubborn strands of hair kept getting into his eyes, so as he was trying to push them away, he was smearing potato juice all over his forehead.

“What?” he asked, and Cora knew he’d caught her staring at him for the past few minutes.

“You’re really handsome,” she said on a whim, actually speaking her mind instead of trying to find an excuse for blatant ogling.

Cassian laughed, but seemed somewhat taken by surprise, avoiding her gaze and looking at the vegetable in his hand like he’d forgotten what he was supposed to do with it. He was incredibly cute when flustered, losing that serious demeanor that made him look so old sometimes. Although she often forgot it, he was still only a couple of years older than her.

“And also you have some dirt on your forehead,” she added, trying to wipe it off with her hand, but the vegetable juice had dried on his skin and was quite persistent. Cora’s cheeks had started burning too. They didn’t usually say things like this to each other, not when they were out of the the privacy of her bedroom, and even then it seemed like something said only in the heat of the moment. “That, however, does not contradict in any way my previous statement.”

Cassian laughed a hearty laugh and went back to peeling the vegetables. He didn’t say anything for a while, like he didn’t really know how to respond to the sudden compliment, but the tiny smile that kept playing on his lips was more than Cora needed to understand that it was appreciated.

His hands moved very fast, chopping and dicing the ingredients, mixing them with the eggs and finally throwing them into the hot pan. There were so many things Cora wanted to ask him about what he was doing, and the process of cooking looked so exciting and new, that it made her want to try it someday.

“You should teach me how to cook,” she said, taking in the delicious aroma that was coming from the sizzling pan.

“I will,” he said with the same ease he offered to train her earlier that day. “But not tonight. Tonight you need rest.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” she said, standing at attention. “When did you learn to cook?”

“A long time ago,” he said, flipping the omelett. “It happened gradually, I guess. I was always the youngest in the team, and so I often got the shitty jobs. Kitchen duty was just one of them.”

“Wow, that must have sucked!” She imagined a young Cassian being forced to do the hardest and dirtiest jobs []. What else could have been expected by a gang that let a kid join their ranks and wield a blaster at such a young age. She wondered if he ever got any formal education. Probably not.

“Sometimes it sucked,” he said, placing the omelett on two plates and handing her one. The food looked really good, steaming and colorful, so different from the usual mud coloured canteen stews that she had gotten used to. “We could…” he said, looking around the kitchen. “I hoped we could go somewhere else to eat, but we’re a little stuck here until Dony comes back.”

“I don’t mind staying here,” she said, placing her plate on a small table that was wedged in a corner, and pulling a stool next to it. Cassian shrugged, and handed her a fork and knife then placed two beer bottles on the table before taking a seat across from her.

“It’s probably less fancy than what you’ve been used to,” he said, pointing at the food with the fork. The embarrassed smile from before was back, and he seemed once again to be avoiding her gaze.

"I've eaten canteen food most of my life. No one in my family cooked, they never had the time, so home-cooked food is something new to me." She smiled a sad smile. "Besides, the so-called fine dining is usually over-hyped." Cora’s stomach made a rumbling noise so she shoved a forkful of food into her mouth, instantly regretting it the moment the scalding hot substance touched her tongue.

“Be careful, it’s hot,” he laughed.

“Now you tell me!” she whined, after taking a huge gulp of beer, trying to calm the burning sensation. She took the next bite with a lot more caution, making sure to actually taste it this time. “It’s really good!” she said, shoving another forkful into her mouth. It was creamy and flavourful, the different vegetables giving it a pleasant texture. She could identify a type of ham, but the taste was unfamiliar. Overall, it was nothing like the bland, overcooked food that they served in the mess hall. “I could get used to this.”

Cassian laughed, and maybe it was the light, but she could swear there was a light blush tinting his cheeks. Maybe it was the beer.

“Well, we could do this more often,” he offered, digging into his own omelette. “If you want to. And have the time, of course.”

“I will always make time for food,” she said, with a little grin on her face. And also for you, she wanted to add, but didn’t for fear of not making it sound too cheesy.

“We should take the candles next time,” Cassian said, looking down at his food and Cora felt a fuzzy feeling taking over her.

“Yeah, we could. Or we can wait for the oven to catch fire,” she joked, trying to hide how flustered she had become in a mere second. So he sort of considered it a date too. That was good to know.

Fortunately, nothing happened to the oven during their meal, so they could eat their food in peace. Cora managed to forget about the assessment and her worries were laid to rest for a while. Only when they left the kitchen, after they cleaned the dishes and woke up the cook—he was sound asleep in a small office down the hall, snoring loudly—Cora realized just how sleepy she was. It was a nice feeling, different from the usual fatigue that was ever present at the end of her shifts. Her whole body was feeling heavy and warm, and she was very eager to take a quick shower and go to bed.

The way to the elevators seemed a lot longer than usual. The base was pretty quiet at this hour, with everyone either sleeping or working the night shifts, so the halls were almost empty. There was an odd silence surrounding them, and Cora could clearly hear herself dragging her feet on the stone floor, but was too tired to do anything about it.

“Thanks for helping me,” she said, waiting for her elevator. “And for the food. It was really great.”

“My pleasure,” he said, leaning on the wall next to her elevator. “Come find me tomorrow, if you want to continue the training. Make sure you eat your breakfast first. And rest. Don’t come first thing in the morning.”

“Do you think I’ll have enough time to train?” she asked, panic once again rising from the depths.

“Yeah. I told you, I’m not training you for the assessment, I’m training you for when you’ll actually have to go to battle. You could pass the assessment today if you had to.”

She knew that it was meant to calm her nerves, but it had the exact opposite effect, the reminder that she had to actually go into battle one day was giving her the chills. Fortunately, she was too tired to have a full blown panic attack, so she just threw a death glare in Cassian’s direction.

“I’m blaming you if I fail the assessment,” she said, as the elevator door opened in front of her. “Just so you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” For a moment, he seemed not to know what to do next, so he fidgeted a bit. Cora waited patiently in front of the elevator, not daring to make the first move. She wanted to kiss him, drag him to her room and then promptly fall asleep in his lap, but instead she just smiled timidly. “Good night, Doctor,” he said, making up his mind and leaving with a smile.

“Good night, Captain,” she smiled back, stepping into the elevator.

She sighed and leaned on the wall, pressing the button with the enthusiasm of moist cardboard. Was it too much to ask for a goodnight kiss? There was a little irony in that thought, because she knew she could have actually asked for a kiss instead of wishing he’d just take a hint, but there was always the fear that maybe he’d reject her. Sure, behind closed doors, hidden from the rest of the world, their relationship was certainly different. But what if that’s all he wanted? She wasn’t sure if he’d be ok with them eventually coming out as a couple to everyone else. She wasn’t sure if he even thought about them as a couple. Right now it was a sort of friends with benefits type relationship, no strings attached, no headaches, no commitment. Unfortunately, Cora knew that sooner or later thay’d have to have “the talk”, and the relationship would either move onto the next level, or end completely.  

This couldn’t go on forever, because every day she was falling for him a little more. She’d gotten so used to seeing him every day, that she was looking forward for their meetings. Even on the shittiest days, he had the power to make her feel a little better. There was something comforting about his presence, the way he smiled at her and the little jokes they shared; the warm embraces and hot, languid kisses they shared when they were alone; the nights when she just couldn’t fall asleep so she just nestled closer to him, listening to his heart.

Maybe one day she’d have to give it all up, but for now she was content living in this limbo.

Previous chapter

Masterlist