#or is it ehehehehe

[leiawritesstories]

When We Think of Love

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 11 & 12: Song Fic & Forbidden Love @rowaelinscourt. inspired by "Soul Tied" by Ashley Singh

Word count: 3k

Warnings: angst. and pain. the song is quite sad. i'm so sorry.

A/N: this is a sort-of Regency era AU, so the language might be a little weird hahaha. also, Frederick got out of the basement. enjoy...?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even though the gown was the latest fashion and only had two layers of skirts with a single underskirt and lightweight wore structure holding up its shape, Aelin felt weighed down by the fine silk that draped her frame, its rosy pink color completely at odds with the grey numbness clouding her mind. 

“You are a vision,” her mother announced, sweeping elegantly into Aelin’s dressing chamber. Evalin Ashryver, Duchess of Orynth, never walked. She floated, and she had taught her only daughter to do the same from the time she could stand. “But why are you pensive, my dear?”

“Simply lost in thought, I suppose.” Aelin painted a soft smile onto her lips. “Mayhap I am a bit nervous for tonight.” 

“As it is well you may be.” Evalin touched her daughter’s satin-gloved hand with her own. “I recall clearly the day my own parents announced my betrothal to your father. I declare I may not remember anything else from that evening.” 

Aelin gave the skirts a gentle shake, letting the fine silk drape more fluidly over the subtle hoops rounding out its shape. “Let us hope His Majesty is pleased with the arrangement, yes?” 

“Of course he is,” Evalin said, brushing away Aelin’s underlying concern. “The prince is the most advantageous match we could have made for you, Aelin dear, and Orlon has long been looking at the benefit of a military tie with Anielle. I know the two of you have only met a handful of times, but there will be ample time for you to become acquainted during the wedding preparations.” 

“I suppose there will be.” Aelin shifted her gaze back to the mirror, resisting the urge to reach up and rip the delicate silver tiara from its perch atop the coils of her hair. She was fourth in the succession for the throne of Terrasen, and she had grown accustomed to the ways in which her family demonstrated their royal position, but there were ever so many moments when she wanted nothing more than to abandon the crown and its weight and flee into the depths of the Oakwald. 

There, parted from society, she could be with her love. 

A soft knock rapped on the door, and Aelin’s lady’s maid entered, curtsying politely to Evalin. “Pardon, milady, Your Grace, but His Grace is ready.” 

“Thank you, Kaltain,” Aelin said. She turned to her mother. “We likely should not keep Father waiting; we know how quickly he disappears into his study if he does not have to make an appearance.” Evalin laughed softly and led Aelin out into the hallway and down the stairs, finding Rhoe waiting at the base of the sweeping staircase, fidgeting with his gloves. 

“Ah, there you are,” he said, looking up. “You look so lovely, my Fireheart.” He squeezed Aelin’s hands and leaned in to whisper into her ear. “I would embrace you, but your mother might strangle me for crinkling your dress.” 

She snickered. “She very well might.” 

“None of that unladylike noise,” Evalin hissed, prodding Aelin with her paper fan. She nodded at the pair of footmen by the double doors leading to the ballroom. “Shall we?” 

“I am as ready as I can be,” Aelin whispered as she placed her hand on her father’s arm. “Only help me not to fall.” 

“Of course.” Rhoe let Evalin glide into the ballroom, nodding and smiling and exchanging greetings with the swarm of beautifully dressed nobility gathered there, and at the swell of the small orchestra in the corner, he led Aelin into the throng. 

She fixed her smile firmly in place but coasted her gaze over the sea of blurred faces, seeking an anchor in the pair of pine eyes that seared into her soul. Catching Rowan’s gaze, she let loose a fraction of her anguish, silently crying her grief to him across the sea of elegantly clad gentry. 

Please forgive me.

~

Rowan Alexander Whitethorn, heir to the Duchy of Doranelle, had known Aelin since they were both small children. His family estate bordered her family holdings, but his father had only recently been elevated to the title of Duke, honored for his many years of service to King Orlon. Rowan vividly remembered the day he had first met Aelin—he was ten and she was seven, and she was a golden-blonde blur of motion on the back of a silvery mare galloping through the forest between their lands. 

“Whoa, there!” he cried in his childish voice, and he caught up with her as she managed to rein in her horse. “Are you quite alright?” 

She gave him a stare far too imperious to be coming from a young girl and tossed her hair with a sniff. “Kasida and I are perfectly fine, even though we are alone. I do not need to slouch along at a snail’s pace like my governess insists.” 

Rowan couldn’t hold back a giggle. “Pardon me, but I can’t imagine you…slouching along like that, miss…” He trailed off. “Um…” 

Her stare melted into a bright smile. “I’m Aelin. My papa is the duke of Orynth.” She held out her small hand, and he shook it. 

“And I am Rowan. My father is the duke of Doranelle.” 

“So we’re neighbors!” Aelin beamed. “I ride away from my governess very often, and I like this forest quite a lot.” 

“I like the forest too,” Rowan admitted. “It’s quieter than the manor.” 

“Sometimes I dream about living in the forest forever,” Aelin said, an odd kind of yearning flickering across her face. “But anytime I even mention it, my mama scolds me for reading too many faerie stories.” She shrugged. “I still like riding here.” 

“Miss Aelin!” The high-pitched cry echoed through the trees, and Aelin sighed. 

“That’s my governess. I ought to go and find her before she gets lost.” She smiled at Rowan again, and he felt the warmth of it in his soul. “It was nice to meet you, Rowan!” 

He managed to mumble some kind of farewell as she turned her horse around and rode off, only forming proper words once she was out of sight. It was nice to meet you too, Aelin. 

She had told the truth about riding in the forest often, and it became a habit of theirs to ride through the woods together, trading stories of what they were doing and wondering what the Oakwald, the near-mythical forest that spanned western Terrasen, would be like. As they grew older, Aelin’s stories turned from school lessons to etiquette lessons, and she had such a knack for imitating the stuffy old people at her family’s banquets that she made Rowan cry from laughter. Still, he allowed her to practice her lessons and her dancing with him, ignoring how frequently she trod on his toes when she was learning a new dance. 

And their childhood friendship turned into a partnership of sorts, a series of stolen moments of freedom and secret glances across a ballroom or dining room when their families were at a gathering together. Since she was not yet out in society, she was still largely overlooked during those events, and she was free to send him into stitches of laughter with her impersonations of the visiting nobility. He even asked her to dance several times, and she pretended to be a simpering debutante but still counted the music under her breath. He caught her any time she stumbled, and he caught each of her smiles too.

He was eighteen when he realized he had fallen in love with her. 

But she was only fifteen, so he kept it to himself, forcing himself to stay within the lines of friendship yet falling more in love with her every time she flicked a hidden glance at him during a long, boring dinner. She grew a bit more distant over the next few years, caught up in her mother’s constant lady lessons and working so hard—too hard—to be the portrait of a perfect lady, but at her eighteenth birthday ball, he worked up the courage to ask her for a dance. 

The smile that broke across her face, as bright and warm as it had been since the day he met her, kindled a wildfire in his heart. And late that night, hidden in a little-used gazebo in a corner of the Galathynius estate’s gardens, Rowan Whitethorn kissed Aelin Galathynius for the first time, and his heart surged towards hers.

Aelin made her debut at twenty, a few years later than traditional, but her parents had wanted her to wait a while longer so that society would be anticipating her debut. After all, she was fourth in line for the throne, and her marriage would undoubtedly be a topic of gossip and news from the moment she became eligible. Rowan longed for the day when he could bring her flowers and walk beside her in public, when he could finally bring the years of his love for her into the light of day, but he hesitated at the thought of exposing that delicate piece of his heart to the scrutiny of society and of Evalin Ashryver. For Aelin’s mother was a well-respected duchess, but he had seen the effects of her demanding nature on her daughter, and he feared the repercussions of her disapproval. 

He suspected, as he knew Aelin did, that one day their secret courtship would either have to be brought into the light of day or be torn apart by circumstance, but neither of them had wanted to address it. The unspoken bond between them was too precious, too beloved to be so shattered. 

Since her eighteenth birthday, he had courted her in secret, stealing precious moments and pieces of her heart beneath starry skies, foggy mornings, and shaded corners. He guarded every tiny bit of her with his life, from the letters in her tidy script that he kept tucked into his jacket pocket to the faint trace of her perfume that lingered on his collar when she kissed him. Although he could not shout his love for her from the rooftops, he reveled in their masked touches, in the flicker of humor in her eyes when she caught his gaze, in the echo of her laughter when he took her to the empty greenhouse on his family’s land and danced with her there under the sunset. With every encounter, he felt his soul drawn more and more towards hers, felt more and more as if his life were irrevocably tied to hers. 

And when he saw her across the ballroom that evening, when he caught sight of the tiara in her hair and the proud smiles on her parents’ faces and the man in the military jacket standing beside her mother at the front of the ballroom, when her eyes caught his and an ocean of anguish opened in them for a brief, wrenching moment, he felt that tie fracture. 

~

Aelin’s first kiss had been Rowan. 

Her first everything had been Rowan, the only one close enough to her heart to hold its fragile pieces and treat them with tenderness rather than callousness. From laughter-filled memories of her childhood to secret, stolen moments in the gardens during banquets and balls before her debut, to the all-too-few snatches of time she had been able to steal with him after her debut, when she wanted nothing more than his kisses and his gentle, reassuring words. 

She’d known for a long while, deep in the back of her mind, that her marriage would be a political one, for she was high in the line of succession. While it was unlikely that she would ever inherit, since Orlon could just as easily name someone else as his successor, her parents still strategized over which eligible noble could marry their daughter. They had settled on Prince Chaol Westfall of Anielle, the third son of the Prince of Anielle and a well-respected military officer. For him, marriage to Aelin was a massive step up, because he was so far down in the succession for the throne of Adarlan that he’d probably never known he was in line. For her, the marriage would secure military ties between Terrasen and Adarlan, a powerful alliance of nations. 

She did not know the man save for a few cursory meetings. 

At least, she supposed as she walked up to his side, he was not terribly hard on the eyes. He was even passably attractive, if a lady was drawn to brown-haired men in military uniforms with all the apparent personality of boiled potatoes. 

“Your Highness,” Aelin murmured, dipping in a graceful curtsy to Chaol. “It is an honor.” 

“The honor is entirely mine, Your Royal Highness,” he replied, bowing low. 

With a flourish, Rhoe and Evalin turned out towards the assembled crowd, Aelin still with her hand on her father’s arm. The crown quieted, and Rhoe smiled warmly. “We have delightful news for all of you this fine evening. Our daughter, Aelin, has accepted the hand of Prince Chaol Westfall in marriage, and with all good hope, they shall be married in two months’ time!” Applause rippled through the ballroom, and Aelin mentally prepared herself for an evening of simpering congratulations. Beaming at her, Rhoe lifted her hand from his arm and placed it ceremonially into Chaol’s hand, linking the hands of the young couple. 

“Would you like to dance?” Chaol asked, polite but also perceptive—he’d picked up on her unwillingness to be faced with a string of saccharine compliments from the noble ladies. 

She flicked him a crooked grin. “I would love to.”

He led her onto the polished parquet floor and swept her into a waltz, his steps sure and practiced, quick and light on his feet. She must have murmured in surprise, because he grinned, the expression almost boyish. “I took dancing lessons too, once upon a time.” 

“I almost forgot you were nobility under all that military regalia,” she teased. To her pleasant surprise, she found it easy to make conversation with Chaol, albeit mostly small talk and nothing about important issues. As the dance drew to a close, she skimmed her gaze across the ballroom and, once again, caught Rowan’s tormented eyes, his look a caress of her heart. 

Determination sparked suddenly in Rowan’s expression, and he meandered through the crowd, joining the queue of congratulatory nobility, but when he reached Aelin, he bowed like any other eligible gentleman and reached for her dance card. “Might you have a dance for me, my lady?” 

“I believe I do,” she said lightly, pretending this was just another ball and he was just another man who had asked her to dance. Chaol, who had no idea who Rowan was, simply shook Rowan’s hand and accepted his civil words, not noticing the well-concealed grief beneath the congratulations. 

Rowan escorted Aelin onto the dance floor, and he placed one gloved hand at the curve of her waist and took her hand in his free one. As he led her through the sweeping, intricate curves of the dance, he subtly tugged her just a fraction closer than appropriate, just an inch nearer to the unsteady pulse of his heart. “Did you know?” he murmured, and her fractured heart cleaved further at the anguish that pierced his words. 

“No,” she whispered, and she looked into his eyes, baring the depth of her own anguish to him. “I did not.” 

His gaze flicked out the open windows, glancing for an instant towards the expansive gardens, knowing the privacy they could steal, if only for a moment, out there. “One moment?” he asked, turning her smoothly in a circle so her skirts flared out in a perfect arc. 

“One moment,” she agreed, and she folded the mask of happiness back across her face. Rowan bowed over her hand as the dance ended, his lips just barely skimming the satin of her glove. He let her walk back towards Chaol, towards her parents, and he took an opposite course, stopping to dance with another young lady before he covertly stepped out a side door and disappeared into the gardens. 

Aelin waited a few more minutes before she touched Chaol’s shoulder and whispered to him that she needed a moment for relief, and she quietly slipped out a different side door, one that led directly to a refreshing room. Before she could reach the powder room, though, she turned down a different hall and went outdoors, entering the gardens through a little-known side gate. Her heart guided her down the familiar paths of the labyrinth, and she found Rowan in an alcove near the center, seated on a stone bench cast half in shadow by the faint sliver of moonlight. 

“Rowan,” she breathed, heart thumping unsteadily. 

In a rushed blur, his lips were on hers, his arms firm and strong around her waist, supporting her as her legs buckled. She cupped the back of his head and kissed him hard, desperate, the ache in her heart poured into the press of her lips, the curl of her tongue. When she drew back, tears shone in her eyes, but she tipped her head back so they could not fall. 

“I love you, Rowan,” she whispered. Simple, true, broken. 

Tenderly, his thumb stroked the line of her jaw. “I love you, Aelin.” Simple, true, ruined. “But you are betrothed.” He took a single step back, wrenching himself away from the woman who had brought warmth and healing and love into his life. Wordless, she could only nod, every regret and wish that shone in her eyes tamped down by the force of duty. 

She straightened her skirts, righted the dainty tiara in her coiffure, adjusted her gloves, and with one final lingering heart-searing gaze, she left the alcove, heading back into the manor, back towards her family and her betrothed and her duty. So too Rowan turned and walked out of the gardens, but he circled the side of the manor, went into the drive, and signaled his coachman. He climbed into his carriage, closed the door, rapped on the roof, and set his course for home. 

Where his own arranged betrothal awaited him.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover

[hansoeii]

hannigram

[riritzuu]

[theesteppenwolf]

Anyway shirtless Fenris.

(no one check the correctness of the tats pls and thank you)

[moechies]

you literally cannot tell me that kaiser doesn't love period sex... hear me out okie!

he's not the biggest fan at first glance. like any other normal being, he thinks it's rather gross and unhygenic -- i mean the period is literally the lining of your uterus being shed, so he's not the biggest fanatic right off the bat.

it's only when he sees you writhing painfully atop of your shared bed, sniffling into the soft sheets with soft groans. he snoops up behind you, pushing your hair back behind your ear before pressing a chaste kiss against your cheek, asking you what's wrong.

he only coos sadly when you tell him it's your period, and it's hurting real bad. he brings a big, warm hand and clasp it over your tummy, asking if there's anything he can do to help. you only shake your head, the least bit frustrated at his ministrations having being worn from the pain all day, and wanting nothing more but to bask in your pain for a bit.

it's only when he's sitting in your guy's living room, waiting on a pack of pads and some sweets he ordered to be delivered to the home, when he comes across a video that claims: having sex on your period makes your cramps hurt less! he quirks a brow and scoffs, in what world would that even make sense? he's quick to scroll on, but can't deny his suspicion on whether the spewing man was right or not. so he opens a searching browser, and upon further research, and scrolls through r/periodsex on reddit, he deemed the man's claim to be strangely correct.

so he titters himself back into the bedroom where you lay, now scrolling on your computer with an abundance of pillows and sheets surrounding each side of your body, and kaiser chuckles at the sight.

"maus.. you've heard that havin' sex on y'r period can rid your cramps?"

you scoff, on par to his reaction but yours expends a little more anger. "that's so stupid, miche." you scowl a bit, face lightening when he reveals a couple chocolate bars and little sweets from his back.

"i dunno, 'id some research 'nd i think it might be true." he whistles, strolling his way over to you and handing you a bar of chocolate, placing the rest onto your bedside table.

"thank you, miche!" you grin, taking a nibble from the sweet, "but, i don't think your little period thing is true. sounds stupid." you're the same as him. no wonder you guys are so perfect for one another.

"hm," kaiser hums, rubbing his chin, "wha'dya say we test it out, maus?"

and that's how he got you here -- arched evilly as his heavy cock head sides back and forth through your aching slit. it spills with tinted slick, coating his pale-pink shaft red.

"micha," you cry out, terribly embarrassed as his slowed actions. you thought he'd be quick to get it over with for your sake, but he seemed to be enjoying this little 'try-out' way too much. "hurry, s--so embarrassed." you cover your face and whine as he taps his cock against your wet cunt, loud, sloppy noises eliciting from the mess. "embarrassed? how come?" kaiser grins, "nothin' t'be embarrassed about, lovie. 's just me."

"i know b--but... don't want y'to think ‘m gross." you whine, handling at the white sheets.

"nothin' you do is gross, maus." kaiser hums. "you understand?" you nod quickly, knowing just how mean he could get if you even bother trying to talk down on his efforts to love you. "hase, i'll put it in now, yeah? tell if it hurts, swear."

"i will! f--fuck me, miche, pleasee," you whine, shaking your ass up against his erection.

"you're shameless, hase." kaiser laughs, wasting no time before he thumbs at the front of his cock, pressing the crown against your weeping slit. you two gasp simultaneously when he fucks only the tip into your cunt -- fuck.

your pussy is so much hotter, and much more tender than it usually is -- and he knows this fact well enough from the amount of times he's made love to this very pussy. you whine when you feel your tummy churn from another cramp, tears building against your lashline. "oh, fuck, hase." kaiser whines, inching himself bit by bit into your sensitive cunt, a gentle thumb coming down to massage at your swollen, pearly clit. "y'alright, maus? need me to stop? or slow?" kaiser asks considerately despite his urge to not listen even if you do tell him to. god, it feels so damn good.

"no! miche, m--more!" you whine,

"haaah," a soft murmur of 'so hot,' is all he can manage as he shuffles himself further and further into your pussy, coming to a halt when he hears a rather pitched yelp.

"hase? y'alright?" you're breathing heavily, paired up with loud breathy moans. he's never seen you in this state with just his cock shoved into you -- without even moving or any other felt on your body. "'s sensitive, yeah? the ladies online said so, too." kaiser hums, thrusting slightly.

"shu--shut up, micha, just fuck me, 'kay? slowly!"

"y'got it, hase, calm down, 'righ? just enjoy it, miche'll make you feel s'good. so fuckin’ pretty hase.”

and god -- when he looks down after pulling out a slight and sees his cock coated in a deep crimson, he groans so unbelievably loud unlike you've ever heard before. the pretty scarlet in contrast to his white skin is throwing him in a loop, unable to help himself as he humps back inside with little remorse. he whimpers and whines each and every time your quivering pussy clenches his cock over and over -- and he's not even sure if you're aware of what you're doing.

"fuck, maus. f--feels good?" he finally cracks, bringing his hand down again to massage at your clit.

"u--uhuh, good.." you mumble, drooling against the sheets with a bit of tongue poking out. fuck, you're cute."

"cum now, baby, c'mon." kaiser leans over, pressing your body further into the sheets with his chest pressed against your bare back. "you can do it." he whispers, watching you unravel and shudder around his cock with a mean pinch to your clit. "m--miche..!" your thighs shiver, crying as you cum meanly on his cock and messing his shaft with a mixture of your creamy nut and rufous blood.

kaiser groans, fucking you gently to ride out your orgasm. his strokes are slow and deep, making you gasp at each initial thrust. "i'll cum inside." not a question, just a statement, a warning if you will.

and he does just that, unraveling just a mere couple seconds after yours and shooting white ropes of thick spent into your poor pussy. he groans and pants all at once, pulling out with a soft plop and pressing a kiss to your asscheek before pulling at it to admire his artwork.

he whistles in awe, watching his load spill out of you and mix with your blood to create a peony pink -- and although feeling a sense of flailing pride having to see his nut spill out of you, he won't chastise his sweet girl for it this time.

"m--miche..."

"yes, baby. let me clean you up." kaiser grunts with a grin, arms wrapping you into his embrace and taking you to the bathroom. "lets shower, yeah? i'll wash y'r hair f'you."

you press a weak hand against his chest, "b--but did you like it? was it g--gross?" you ask nervously, tiredly, unable to meet the man's eyes.

"no, i told you, i'd never find any part of you gross, maus. i loved it." kaiser chuckles, holding no hint of recline in his cerulean eyes. "you sure?"

kaiser scoffs. the one thing about kaiser is that he never lies. he'll tell you straightforward when he oughts, and you know this much. but you can't seem to hide the impending doom of embarrassment that haunts you in the back of your head, even if he affirms you over and over. "like i'd lie, lovie. don't doubt my honesty now. it was fun, ‘nd yer so pretty everywhere." he pinches at your cheek, earning a playful slap to his chest. "how's your tummy? still hurts?"

you shake your head, "no, doesn't hurt anymore, swear." and kaiser only grins, kissing your forehead gently.

"good, lovie. let me warm the water."

[yallstar]

“What was that for?” Viktor asked softly. Jayce smiled wider, tilting his forehead against Viktor’s. “I was happy, I guess."

more art for chapter 2 of differential burdens!

[shepscapades]

It’s so much later than I usually post, but I wanted to quickly finish up a few leftover doodles from session 1 of Secret Life, plus a bunch of silly doodles from Session 2 before the new episodes drop tomorrow :]

also. Couldn’t help but to dbhc-ificate some of them DGBJDHK

[altdebaran]

DAAAAAAAAADDD

[mummonia]

the father, the son, the holy ghost

[lanlishiba]

HELLOOOOOOO I HOPE YOU GUYS STILL REMEMBER ME :)))))))

[twoshotsofsugar]

jason with a mullet for your consideration? ;)

[keferon]

Alright I finally made the ref sheet for them. Although I rarely follow their designs myself ahahfjvm

Also. This thing isn’t very precise and detailed. If you decide to draw them - feel free to slap more ornaments on any parts of them👍

[pranpats]

gentle & rough

[bizarrelovetriangel]

distance

angst with comfort. brief jealous reader/mc and jealous zayne. slightly ooc zayne just bc you know he'd always put you first no matter how hectic life can get. but just for this one, he gets a little cold...

as insecurities take over, you distance yourself from zayne and zayne realizes how empty he feels without you.

Being a doctor can be stressful. It takes a lot of energy, and Zayne, no matter how perfect he seemed, isn't an exception.

Lately, his work has been taking a lot of his time, and it's starting to take a toll on his health. You've been trying to help him to take a break and relax for a while, but it hasn't been easy.

And your relationship was put to test.

You brought him food in his home office, and it had only gone cold and untouched.

You wanted to get his mind off work for a bit, so you took him out for plushie hunting at the claw machines after dinner one night, though he only said a few words as he watched you play, eyes looking like they're ready to close at any minute.

You encouraged him to join you in bed to get some sleep, hoping to get rid of the tiredness in his eyes, and he told you to go first and he'll join you in a few minutes, only for him to take hours, when you were already in a deep sleep.

You asked him to watch a movie with you, he said he wasn't in the mood, so you ended up falling asleep on the couch all alone until the movie's end credits started rolling.

You offered to give him a massage, gentle hands squeezing the tensed muscles of his shoulders, only for him to move away and say, "I'm sorry... I just need some time alone for a while. I need to finish this."

Of course, you understood. He is a doctor who has to do paper work along with treating the patience at Akso Hospital. Things can get pretty stressful, and even Zayne can be overwhelmed.

It's normal to want space.

After all, you admit that you might have seemed like a pesky buzzing fly to someone who just wants some silence.

"Okay. I'll head home, then. Good night, Zayne. Please, don't forget to eat and rest." Not wanting to annoy him any further, you resisted to give him your usual parting peck and embrace. Instead, you gave him a soft smile and a casual wave of goodbye before leaving his house.

In the following day, you sent Zayne a good morning message, reminding him to take good care of himself, and he responded with his favorite good morning sticker. You weren't able to see him at all, since the Wanderers you dealt with had been a handful. By the end of the day, after eating dinner at a ramen shop with your coworkers, Xavier and Tara, you just had enough energy left for shower before crashing on your bed.

The next day, you had a day off so you decided to stop by Akso Hospital to drop off lunch for Zayne, knowing that he's most likely just eating cafeteria food. You even got him some macarons as a treat for working so hard, so you're certain he'll choose your personal delivery than the cafeteria.

The moment you arrived, you were greeted by Yvonne, whose eyes lit up as soon as she spotted your figure. "Hey! It's been a while since you visited!"

"Haha, I know! Work's been crazy, but apparently not as hectic as yours!" You laughed as Yvonne pouted in agreement.

"Tell me about it!" Greyson appeared as well, clutching a few sheets of paper in one hand. "So many people are getting injured these days! Luckily, things are starting to calm down now though."

"That's good. You guys really need a break after all the hard work you've been doing." You then held up the light blue tote bag that contained the lunch box and started to walk towards Zayne's office. "Anyways, don't let me take anymore of your precious time. I just stopped by to give Zayne - "

Within several feet away from his office, you froze.

The door was partly opened, and inside you could see him. Zayne was already eating lunch, and he wasn't alone. He's with a woman, another doctor, based on the snippets of phrases you caught as she spoke elegantly.

You couldn't tear your eyes off Zayne's bright eyes and his lips slightly curled into a smile.

The smile that you haven't seen for days.

You were glad to see it.

You only wished that it was directed at you right now.

"Ah, never mind. I guess he's busy at the moment." You turned around and retreated, giving Yvonne and Greyson a smile.

It was the kind of smile that had them exchange a look of concern.

"I'll just get going then. It was nice seeing you two!"

Greyson's eyes followed the tote bag in your hands that were lowering with disappointment. "Ahaha! Well, you know.... I haven't had lunch yet..." His left hand scratches the back of his head. "How about I trade some coupons with you in exchange for whatever you got in there? I'll treat you next time we have a group hang out too."

You grinned as you caught his drift right away. Someone wanted free food. "The coupons will suffice. I hope you enjoy!"

Greyson managed to drop a quick thank you as you practically ran out of the building.

Later that night, you didn't send a goodnight text, and you did not receive one either.

The next morning, you woke up to a good morning message from Zayne, along with a snowman sticker that said, 'Awake?'

You replied a quick, 'Good morning' before continuing to eat your breakfast while scrolling through social media.

A couple of minutes later, you received a follow-up text, with Zayne asking if you're feeling okay, sensing that something was off with the way you replied to him.

You always send him multiple texts, sometimes paragraph-long, but never just a couple of words that lacked your usual charms.

'Just feeling a little tired, been busy at work'

It wasn't a lie. Wanderers have been kicking your ass, though you always make sure to kick theirs thrice as hard.

You weren't even really upset with Zayne. He didn't do anything wrong that would warrant a cold shoulder.

It's just that something has been forcing you to distance yourself from him. Something deep in your stomach was making you feel weird, about yourself.

You started to wonder.... if you were too much for Zayne.

Too loud, too energetic, too draining, too....childish.

What if, maybe, he preferred to be with someone who's more calm and collected? Someone who didn't waste his time getting plushies at claw machines? Someone who matches his interests and intellect and energy? Someone mature? Like that woman that he was having lunch with.

After all, she was able to get him to smile, while you failed for days.

Maybe Zayne was getting tired of you.

And so, you stayed away from him, not wanting to pest him with your presence any longer.

He deserves better.

/////////

Busy. Busy. Busy. He'd been asking you if you were available to go out on Friday, Saturday, then Sunday, but Zayne hasn't had any luck.

The good morning and good night messages stopped, too. Usually, you were the one that sent them first. Sometimes, he'd send a text first, and you'll reply with multiple messages. This time, it's just been silence. All calls have been missed. He hasn't seen your face nor heard your voice for days.

He doesn't like it.

The distance. The silence.

Something was wrong, and he had a feeling that it's not because of your job.

You've been together for a while now, and he had seen you in your busiest and most exhausted days. No matter how much work has taken from you, you always made time for him. Even if it's just to shoot him some messages and a quick video call to let him know what you've been up to.

You always find time and energy for him.

That was something he hasn't been doing lately. He knows that he'd messed up and pushed you away when you were just looking out for him.

Zayne wanted to apologize properly in person, but now, he realizes, that might not happen anytime soon.

In his office at the hospital, Zayne quietly ate his lunch that was purchased at the cafeteria, forcing his eyes to remain at his computer screen even though they keep darting back to his closed door, hoping that it would open and a certain hunter will give him a surprise visit with food she prepared just for him.

The food wasn't settling well in his stomach.

Zayne couldn't find it in him to enjoy the sweet drink he bought at the cafe. He didn't want any of it. What he wanted was for you to show up so he can hold on to you and never let go.

It's been days and he misses your warmth.

Sighing, Zayne stood up and took a folder that had been sitting on his desk. He had unfinished paper work to do, he might as well just focus on that now, since he didn't have the appetite for lunch.

"Greyson, I have a question about yesterday morning's patient from the pediatrics." He entered his colleague's office, which wasn't too far from his own.

"Doctor Zayne, what do you need?" Greyson looked up from his book.

"About the antibiotics they were prescribed. How many - " Zayne's eyes shifted to something familiar that demanded his attention. A light blue tote bag sits on Greyson's desk. "That looks just like...."

He then spotted a familiar snowman sticker at the bottom left corner at the front of the bag. He knows that sticker well, because he was the one that put it there.

"Actually, that's.... Why do you have that?"

Greyson tensed up at Zayne's suddenly raised voice. Not angry, but more...accusatory. All he could do was laugh nervously.

"She visited a few days with food meant for you, but she saw that you were busy, so....I figured, instead of letting it be wasted....."

Zayne nodded his head. "I see." He then picked up the tote bag with the clean and washed empty lunch box inside. "I'll be returning this to her then."

"Y-yes, please! Thank you!"

Zayne didn't even finish his question for Greyson. He just walked out of the office immediately after taking the bag.

Greyson sighs with relief. He didn't die.

///////

Zayne returned home with his stomach feeling worse, and it's not because he hasn't eaten much. Now, he's certain that you really were upset with him.

First, he neglected you, pushed you away and acted cold when you were just caring for him, then you saw him having lunch with another woman - which wasn't wrong, and you've seen him have lunch meetings with other women before and expressed no concerns, but this time was different. The timing was bad, and the fact that you didn't barge in or talked to him afterwards meant you felt upset.

After giving you a few more calls that had all gone to voice mail, Zayne called it a day, hoping he'd have better luck tomorrow.

But he wasn't gifted with sleep that night.

His mind couldn't stop thinking.

He worried that you might've been so hurt that you'd want to leave him, and the thought of losing you made his chest tighten.

The thought of having to live without you by his side, just like all those years ago, hurt a lot. Now that he knows what a life with you feels like, there was no way he could go back to the days without you next to him.

Zayne sat up and looked at the time.

11:20 p.m.

It started to rain, and the coldness has entered his lonely home.

He can't waste another day.

Zayne needed to see you. Now.

And so, he quickly changed his clothes and went to his car and drove to your apartment.

/////

Your mouth dropped as soon as you saw who rang your doorbell.

"Zayne?! What the hell - it's almost midnight and it's raining!" His hair had gotten wet from the rain, black buttoned-up shirt also catching cold droplets, yet he didn't care at all. "Are you crazy?! What are you - "

You couldn't even finish screaming at him as he suddenly dove into your arms, burying his face against your neck as he pulls you close to him.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, warm breath tickling your skin. "I'm sorry."

Your throat tightened and words failed to leave your mouth. The coldness pricked your skin, so you rushed back inside your apartment with Zayne still latching onto you.

You took him to the kitchen and sat him down on a chair. He kept his arms wrapped around your waist while his face rested on your stomach.

Your fingers brushed against the wet strands of his hair. "Zayne..."

"I'm sorry." He said again. "I'm sorry for pushing you away when you only meant well. I'm sorry that you had to distance yourself from me, because I made you feel like... like you weren't important. But you are. I need you by my side. Please, don't leave."

"Zayne..." Your chest ached at the desperation in his voice. "Zayne." You got on your knees so that you can look at him in the eyes and hold onto his hands. "I'm sorry, too."

His eyes looked at you with confusion.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted. You weren't at fault for wanting space. I'd respect your wish anytime. It's just, at that time, my insecurity got the best of me."

"Insecurity?"

"I started to think that I might be too childish, and that maybe you'd prefer to be with someone more mature and someone who matches your interests, someone who could help you out when you're stressed about work, instead of getting in your way." You confessed, feeling embarrassed now that you're saying it out loud in front of him. "I'm sorry."

Zayne shook his his head and brought your hands to his lips for a lingering warm kiss. "I never thought that, and I never will. I'm grateful for you, and I love you exactly the way you are. You don't get in my way. I shouldn't have pushed you away. I truly am sorry for making you feel that way. I promise I won't do it again."

You rested your forehead against his.

"....you're still wet from the rain." You clicked your tongue and got up to get a towel, only for him to grab your hand. "Come on."

You brought him to the bathroom so you could help him freshen up from the rain. After he changed into the pajamas that he'd keep in your house, he joined you on your bed, and his arms wrapped tightly around you.

His head rested on your chest, arms on your hips, legs tangled together.

Just then...

"Shit. I forgot to turn off the lights in the kitchen."

You attempted to get up, but Zayne only held you tighter.

"Don't go."

"It'll only take a second." You poked his cheek, suppressing a smile, enjoying his clingy side that rarely comes out.

"It'll be fine. It can stay on for the night. Just let me keep holding you."

"Okay. Good night, Zayne."

"Good night."

[lyr-caelum]

✨STARMAN✨

[cowsnotcrows]

Ascended Pure Vanilla: *holds bf rival gently*