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seacottons · 4 years

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uni!au with ateez — [ part one ]

—[ san - performing arts ]

ironically, you met when you helped him after a taller male shoved him down whilst in a heated argument.

he burst out laughing when you asked if he was okay.

“don’t worry, we’re just practicing our lines!”

you quickly glanced up at the building and grimaced once taking sight of the gleaming silver ‘performing arts building’ plaque.

of course.

to say you were embarrassed was only scratching the surface.

you had no regrets, because the incident was the catalyst that formed your friendship and eventual relationship.

will never let you live that moment down.

“remember when you tried to save me from mingi?”

“i thought we promised not to bring that up again-”

“why can’t i? i was saved by an angel that day?”

san invites you to both his dance and theatre shows.

will appear to be very professional on stage, but you catch his eyes frantically darting to the crowd to try and spot you.

and once he does, he will repeatedly smile and wink in your direction.

you’re always early, so you manage to snag a seat in either front two rows.

likes when you bring him bouquets as a congratulation gift after his performances.

gets very loud backstage just to let everyone know you bought him a gift.

a huge show-off.

is very good at facial expressions.

you fall for every time he pretends he’s crying or hurt when you don’t give him attention.

he will imitate different characters and repeat after actors while you two watch movies together.

“it sounded sexier when i said it, right (y/n)?”

is a very clingy cuddle bug.

and a leech.

will always have his arms around you while walking at campus.

loves to give you back hugs.

is the type to wait outside for you until you finish class.

and takes you to the cafeteria afterwards for lunch.

embarrasses you in said cafeteria by spinning the lunch tray while waiting in line.

also likes to spin your phone just to freak you out.

also the type to excitedly text you about the donuts and coffee they’re giving away at the library’s breezeway.

likes to refer to you as ‘angel’.

will beg you join the different clubs he’s in.

and then brag about you to the others once you do.

will hype your choice of attire even if he’s already seen you earlier that day.

the type to also sneak you a latte in the middle of your class.

also the type to sneak in with you during your auditorium classes.

you regret it sometimes because he leaves no room for you to pay attention to your professor.

often times, so much so that you have to lightly pinch his side in protest.

“do you want me to fail this class?”

he likes to participate in the many events held at campus.

everyone knows him.

challenges you to dance offs in the middle of campus.

you refuse and push forward a startled mingi instead.

“mingi wants to have a turn this time!”

also likes to lay in your arms whilst you play with his hair.

“were you a cat in your previous life?”

he will then proceed to meow in your ear.

“i’ll take that as a yes.”

—[ hongjoong - fashion design ]

dating him would consist of always admiring his new projects.

supplying him with unhealthy amounts of coffee.

trying out new pieces he made.

offering to carry his overly large portfolio binder sometimes.

sitting down and listening to him rant about how his roomates fail to wash clothes properly.

he has a guide taped to the washing machine with the different symbols of clothing labels.

“no, san, you can’t use shampoo as detergent.”

“but seonghwa finished all the detergent!”

using seonghwa’s lint rollers to remove all the fabric fibers stuck on hongjoong’s clothes.

you scold him while cleaning the bleeding scratches on his fingers from his sewing needles and pins.

“don’t worry, it’s nothing i can’t handle.”

“but i don’t like seeing you get hurt, you bum.”

you bought him strawberry bandaids because he thought they were cute.

sometimes, when he has time, he’ll custom make clothes just for you.

he insists on having multiple matching outfits.

will ask you to model his work for his social media page.

thinks you look best in skirts.

you’ll be the source of comfort during presentation week.

he’ll be a wreck whilst making a new collection.

but you’re always there to pick him back up.

most of the time, you’re the source of his inspiration as well.

you insist he shouldn’t sit for hours writing essays or sketching numerous ideas for future work.

but he’s stubborn as a mule.

nights with him include binge watching fashion shows or cute cartoons.

or painting your nails.

you both enjoy coffee dates when you have time.

he tells you he wants to open a fashion line one day.

you’re trying to stand still as he plucks numerous pins into the dress you’re trying on.

“what do you think i should call it?”

“hj couture? does that sound too basic?”

he pauses momentarily before spooling the leftover red thread.

“(y/n). i’ll call the line (y/n).”

—[ wooyoung - culinary arts ]

invites you to his dorm and cooks for you.

his apartment always smells of warm spices and comforting meals.

pretends his roommates’ teasing doesn’t affect him, but the tips of ears always glow red.

will always bring over leftovers he made in class.

“i just thought you wanted to try this mille feuille.”

“which one is better? the salted rosemary loaf or the oregano and olive oil one?”

loves to bake and cook with you.

will make your birthday cake from scratch and will go all out decorating it.

has an annoying habit of taking pictures of you mid-bite.

“delete that right now.”

“but babe, you look so cute.”

“jung wooyoung!”

will wrestle with you as you attempt to take his phone away.

“okay, look! i swear i’ll delete it!”

he saves it in a hidden folder.

calls you his ‘cupcake’ or ‘sugarplum’.

teases you nonstop when you fail at something in the kitchen.

“babe! no! gentle folds! you pulverized those poor blueberries!”

“but the instructions say to mix!”

“the dough isn’t supposed to be blue!”

he’ll whine nonstop about how much he hates baking bread in class.

“do you know how abnoxiously long the fermentation process is!? i’m losing my mind.”

will wave and yell your name to catch your attention if he spots you nearby at campus.

you hear him every time.

he’s just that loud.

drags you to new restaurants just so you can rate them with him.

also drags you to go cutlery shopping.

accidentally dropped a plate in the store.

and when the employee came sauntering in the aisle suspiciously-

“(y/n) did it.”

once gave you food poisoning by accident.

you never wanted to eat scallops again.

you don’t mind his hands smelling like garlic or ginger most of the time.

or stained with spices.

“turmeric is a bitch.”

“woo, who wears white while cooking with turmeric anyway?”

will show off and brag about his knife skills.

demands to race with you to see who can chop the vegetables the quickest.

“you’re going down, (y/n).”

“uh- i don’t think i ever stood a chance to begin with.”

he lets you win sometimes though.

will beg you to visit him at his part time job at the cute cafe not too far by.

you always try to when you have the time.

and when he finds out you went to the rival cafe across the street one day..

“on a scale of 10 to 10, how bad is kang yeosang’s cooking?”

“what?”

“answer the question, (y/n).”

“woo, it’s 3 a.m.”

the next day, you explained that you were merely invited by your classmates to that particular cafe because one of them was a former employee there.

he childishly ignored you with crossed arms and a subtle pout.

“your jajangmyeon is much better. they didn’t even like the food there!”

he finally perks up with a large smile.

“wait, really?”

you think he looks endearing with his apron and chef’s hat.

will post cheesy captioned pictures of you after serving you delicately decorated plates of food.

‘two delicious meals for tonight, hehe.’

“gross. did you really have to say that?”

—[ jongho - kinesiology ]

you met him at the university gym and instantly clicked.

found yourself months later agreeing to go out with him.

a giant goofball.

sometimes makes faces at you while you exercise across the gym.

makes sure you watch him when he deadlifts.

loves when you hype him up.

opens all the jars for you.

and cuts all the fruit for you.

“why use a knife when you have my hands, love?”

you nearly choked on your saliva when he punched open the watermelon.

“can we ever just have a perfectly sliced watermelon!?”

“no- unless i break my arm one day.”

insists you jog with him around campus early in the morning.

likes to practice wrapping elastic tape on you.

you own half of his hoodies.

takes you to watch basketball matches.

then challenges you to a match when you go on dates to the park.

will persistently tease you about your poor aim.

and will absolutely not let you have the ball for more than a few seconds.

“stop cheating!”

“i’m not cheating! you just suck!”

joined you in some of your elective classes.

will also wear sleeveless shirts because he knows how flustered you get while his sculpted muscles are on display.

“what did professor kim just say?”

“what?” you tore your gaze from his biceps to glance at his face.

“are you staring at my arms again?” he snickers.

“no,” you say too quickly, face heating quite considerably.

despite his teasing, he’ll always baby you and take care of your needs.

has the cutest gummy smile.

you like to call him your gummy bear.

he hated the name at first, but grew to accept it over time.

likes to randomly pick you up.

sometimes will throw you over his shoulder.

has a habit of patting your thighs.

sometimes asks you to sit on his back while he does push-ups.

your eye bulged at the sight of a mop of ruby hair.

“don’t say anything.”

“you like apples so much you dyed your hair red?”

“i lost a bet.”

“you look cute though.”

you tugged at his tresses, smiling as you admired the shade against his tanned skin.

“baby?” you brushed his bangs away to display his forehead.

“hm?”

“you’re the apple of my eye.”

“i’m-,” he sucked on his teeth and pursed his lips, face scrunching in a mock grimace, “i’m going to throw up.”

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botwstoriesandsuch · 4 years

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Where Time Takes Us

Destination - Part 1

- - - - - - - - - -

Watch the home while she is off to war

The Slumber King versus the rearing boar

Awake, arise, do not be blind

To tales and destinies entwined

In the world we said that we would leave behind

— excerpt from folk song, The World Behind, writer unknown, dated back to the Era of Myth

- - - - - - - - - -

6 months, 3 weeks, and 3 days before the Hyrule Castle Slaughter, the Akkala Citadel Massacre, the slaying of the Champions, the death of the hero, and the rise of Calamity Ganon...

Her job ends on doomsday.

She should be working, and truly she wanted to, but circumstances had led her to walk towards the echoing laughter.

Already trying to prepare the quip she would throw back at them, (as undoubtedly they’d complain about her being late again), the researcher weaved through the familiar roads of West Castle Town. Most of the houses were dark, with the only light source coming from the occasional flickering lantern, and the pale complexion of the midnight moon. Needless to say, it made the warm glow of The Adequate’s Tavern stand out all the more as she approached.

Another roar of laughter and shouts escaped from an open window on the south side of the pub. The bags under her eyes curved with her smile as she recognized one of the voices. She absentmindedly traced her fingers along the outer walls of the tavern as she walked, loose chips of faded blue paint falling to the pavement below. The wooden sign above the door creaked with its askew weight. The Adequate’s Tavern was printed in bold, blue letters atop a faded yellow outline. The missing e’s and t’s gave evidence to the building’s true quality.

Pushing open the door, the researcher was met with a swirl of familiar scents, ranging from alcohol, apples, bread, and leather, along with a smokiness coming from the fireplace near the back of the bar.

Closing the door behind her, she walked through the entrance, passing under a wooden overhang, and alongside a long, stone-slated bar counter. She overheard a conversation between the barkeep and a waiter.

“Yes, they’re here again, so get out there already!”

“The scientists?” the waiter asked.

The man started shoving her towards the storage door behind the bar. “Yes, yes, now hurry up and stock up on that apple cider. I’ve already turned four full pitchers from the three of them, and the fourth is no doubt on the way. We can turn a bigger profit from those kids than any random alcoholic that stumbles in here tonight!”

The waiter disappeared into the back, and the barkeep was left muttering by the counter. Chuckling to herself, the researcher moved away, starting to search for the scientists in question. Other than a single, beige wall that separated the edge of the bar with a support beam in the middle of the room, the pub was very open and lively. Square and circular tables were littered across the floor in mismatched patterns, ranging from oak brown to birch white. Clearly, aesthetic was not the centerpoint of the place.

She walked about the pub, scanning the faces of the men and women alike who crowded by the booths and tables. The tavern mainly housed a sea of Hylians, who let out the occasional drunken laugh, or hearty chuckle. It was a miracle she could hear her thoughts at all, as the air was rich with the sound of clattering dishware and the patter of dancing feet, as in a small corner to the left was a semi-circle stage housing a small band. A Hylian man with umber dark skin, much like her own, blew away at a Lurelin-made, seashell harmonica. To his left, a blonde woman extended her arm in quick and elegant strokes with a bow and fiddle. Two others struck away on small drums and bells, and the playful gig they performed had gotten several people up from their feet to dance for Hylia knows how long. The music wasn’t terrible, but she had heard better, from a certain Sheikah in particular...

As if fate had read her thoughts, she finally caught sight of her friends.

It hindsight, it was easy enough to expect the bard to be at the table closest to the stage. Yet, it was probably the three heads of cloud white, Sheikah hair that gave them away the quickest. A young teenage boy sat across a square table from two other Sheikah, a boy and a girl. He was looking at nothing in particular, as he plucked away at his lute, presumably tuning it. Wrapped around his head was a small cluster of green wooden beads, woven with brown string. They dotted like a line of stars in his fluffy, white hair, alternating between pine and sage shades. The knot tying the strings and beads around his head hung loosely like vines just by his right ear. He was just asking to look like a starstruck, homeless traveler, if it weren’t for the bright red cape pinned across his shoulders. The golden, Hyrulean emblem holding the crimson cloth together signified his status as an important worker of the palace. Although, no one would be surprised that this thin, skinny teenager was a bard and court poet, and not a royal knight.

Suddenly, the bard looked up and met her gaze, a pair of warm, red eyes catching the light of familiarity. He patted the empty seat next to him and said something to the other two Sheikah in front of him. One of them looked back, a young man with storm wild hair that seemed to part like lightning. He had a beige, long sleeve coat over a red tunic, as was the classic Sheikah style. However, the style of his white jacket told of his rank as a scientist. With chocolate eyes and a contagious grin, he nudged the girl next to him and fake coughed.

The young woman wore roughly the same outfit, although she had a navy blue skirt and boots compared to the other guy’s black pants and shoes. Her eyes were also red, albeit, with a more striking scarlet color, compared to the other boy’s warmer wine shade. Looking back, she adjusted her bright, Sheikah red, round, sparkly, diamond decorated glasses, complete with white accents that matched her hair. It was pulled in a messy bun, a hairstyle that her close friends knew was less for looks, and more for practical purposes, as supposedly, “the stupid strands always find ways to bother my eyes. No, stop, I don’t need a comb! My eyeballs are just sensitive, okay?”

Pivoting past a waiter, the researcher finally moved closer to the trio, brushing her curly dark hair above her shoulders as she prepared for the sarcasm to begin.

The stormy eyed scientist spoke first.

“Purah, Purah! Is that...a ghost I see? It looks like Adello, but I feel like I haven’t seen her in a century, I surely thought her dead! Am I being…haunted?”

Purah turned in her seat and gave a fake gasp. She adjusted her red rimmed glasses at the sight of her. “You’re right, Robbie! I’ve heard about these spirits. They only come at midnight under a full moon, and they appear when you have friends that don’t know how to time manage and haunt you by coming to your birthday party with their terrible fashion sense 45 minutes late!” She clapped her hands along with the syllables of “45 minutes” to let her point be known.

Robbie awed at Adello in sarcastic wonder, and the boy across from him exhaled out of his nose with a smile.

Adello put a hand on her hip. “Save your breath, I was just working a bit overtime on the Divine Beast sketches. You know, work? For the jobs that we all have? So we can pay our taxes and shit? Unfortunately, not all of us have fancy salaries Mrs. Royal Scientist.”

Purah turned to Robbie, pulling down her glasses and looking at him sternly. “See, this is another trait of these kinds of spirits. They’re cursed to only say excuses for eternity.”

He shook his head. “Coupled with the fact that their fashion only ever consists of one color? Truly, a terrible fate for a ghost indeed.”

Adello narrowed her eyes. Smoothing out her juniper colored tunic, she said, “Okay, first off, green is a great color on me, it pairs well with my skin tone. You’re both just blind, no wonder you need glasses.” Purah put a hand on her chest dramatically, but she continued. “Plus, I’d really rather not get fired since that ceremony thing with those Champions is tomorrow and, as you all know, I just got that promotion.”

The researcher propped a black leather boot up on the empty chair by the table, flipping her jet black hair dramatically. “How does it feel to be in the presence of someone with an actual on-the-field career?”

Purah stuck out her tongue, and Robbie cupped his hands and booed. However, the boy sitting on the other side of the fourseated table gave a celebratory strum of his lute, giving Adello’s pose a bright background flourish with a few upbeat chords.

She winked. “Thank you Zimiri, at least someone can recognize skill.” The bard gave a little bow with his head, grinning. “A few chords is all it takes to enhance a dramatic, late night entrance.”

Adello chuckled, finally sitting down in the empty seat beside him. The old oaken chair and floor creaked under the new weight. Robbie let out a huff.

“You kids need to learn to respect your elders.” He announced the word “respect” with the tip of his tongue. The researcher rolled her eyes.

“Ah yes, a whole one year gap between us. What astounding age and experience that these elders emit.” She gestured at Robbie and Purah with a sweep of her arm.

“Uh, excuse me, but I believe in my case it’s now double that. A whole two years, my dear, naive child. For as of 4 hours ago, I now emit the knowledge of an existence spanning two decades!” Now it was his turn to pose dramatically, pointing towards the ceiling.

Everyone at the table groaned, turning to occupy themselves with something else. Purah started writing in her journal which she pulled out from her satchel, and Adello started to become very interested with the ceiling. Zimiri continued to pluck nothings on his lute.

Robbies crossed his arms, his white long sleeves folding across the Sheikah red shirt underneath. “Oh I see! So when Adello brags, she gets a musical accompaniment, but when I do it, it’s suddenly annoying and embarrassing?”

Adello smirked to herself, and answered, “Yep, that’s how it goes!”

“Alright, you don’t get to speak, Miss I-don’t-know-how-to-be-punctuation!”

Purah promptly smacked Robbie over the head with a pen.

“Hey! W—”

“The word is punctual, you idiot.”

Robbie slumped his shoulders and made a face. He tapped his thumb and fingers together, mimicking the opening and closing of a mouth while he muttered mockingly in Purah’s tone under his breath.

Purah finished off a note in her journal before turning to the rest of the table. “Alright Adello, time to catch up. We’ve been playing ‘Till You Spill and I’ve already got some juicy stuff in here!”

Turning the pages of her journal towards Adello, she gave a chaotic grin. “Last round, Zimiri revealed that he once got teary eyed in front of the King himself after reading a poem about clouds.”

Zimiri raised his hands in defense. “Look, the clouds were an analogy for lost childhood innocence and I got choked up with that author’s amazing choice of imagery and descriptions, okay?”

Purah pointed her pen at him to hush, and continued. “Of course, him being a sentimental dork isn’t anything new, so he lost that round to Robbie who revealed the identity of his first crush.”

Zimiri muttered something about the game being rigged towards the birthday boy, but Adello talked over him, excitedly.

“Ooohhhh? Robbie?? Who are they?” She propped up her elbows and cradled her chin in her hands, excited at the prospect of more embarrassing information she could hang over his head.

He mumbled, looking to Purah for assistance, but she only cupped a hand over her ear, waiting for him to respond. “You all fuckin—” he sighed, “it’s…she’s…c-ch…” he avoided everyone’s gaze, “her name is...Cherry…”

Adello gasped, gleefully. “That girl from your old university?? The writer you hung out with!?”

Purah beamed, shaking Robbie’s shoulders excitedly. “I know right???” She loosened her grip and allowed him to wiggle out of her grasp for a moment. “Oh sweetie, campus days may be long gone for all of us prodigies and geniuses,” she flipped a few strands of her white hair with a turn of her head, “but I’m sure you’ll get her someday. You just gotta turn up the charm, find a way to woo with words. I’m sure writers love that.” Purah pulled down her glasses and gave a forced wink at him.

Adello tried to hold her tongue to no avail. “Pffft. Yeah, you can try wooing her with your punctuation.” This got a snicker out of Purah, and caused the birthday boy to blush furiously and slump further in his seat. Zimiri finally spoke up.

“Now, now, let’s all play nice. We don’t need to pester him further about it, he did win the round after all.”

“Uh, yeah. Speaking of the game, you still need to drink up, mister.” Purah slid a tan brown cup of apple cider towards him, the translucent contents sloshing around like muck in a gutter.

He leaned on the back two legs of his chair. “Isn’t it punishment enough to smell it? The cider isn’t even near my face and my mouth is already burning.”

She shrugged. “Them's the rules of ‘Till You Spill. Your secret sucked, so swig!”

The poet groaned, but complied. Tipping the cup towards his lips, Zimiri took a hearty slurp of the cider, much to everyone’s amusement. It felt like hot, molten copper mixed with old apple skins. How could something both burn and freeze your throat at the same time? He let out a gag, to which Adello patted him on the back with a short laugh.

Raising his posture, Robbie crowed, “When we finally have Zimiri’s birthday maybe then we’ll actually upgrade to the alcohol.”

Adello raised an eyebrow. “Uh, right, because the upgrade from disorientingly strong, smelly apple cider, is you two being flat out drunk. Right...”

Purah slammed both her fists down with pride, letting the cups and pitchers slosh a few amber colored drops onto the worn wooden table. “Bold of you to assume I’d drink at all, considering I’ve never lost a round! Mwahaha!” She blew a raspberry at her. “This tongue is apple free, baby.”

She gestured with her pinky and index finger at Zimiri and Adello. “Now, you two! The late combatant and the latest loser shall spill next. Give us your juicy gossip!!”

The bard, still reeling from his drink, leaned back in his chair and gave a nod toward Adello. “Ladies first?”

While she wasn’t undefeated in this drinking game, she sure as hell was playing to win. Especially since somebody needed to knock that smug expression off of Purah’s face. Adello thought to herself quickly.

Zimiri, no doubt, is probably gonna say something self-deprecating again, as he’s too nice to actually reveal anything embarrassing about anyone else. So...I just need to say something unexpected and interesting...perhaps something embarrassing about...hmm, I’ve already exhausted all my info about those cushy nobles and guards in past rounds…

Suddenly, she snapped her fingers. “The princess has a secret stuffed animal collection.” Seeing the light in her co-workers’ eyes twinkle, Adello knew she had chosen her words well. Purah leaned in. “Ooh? And how did you come across this juicy piece of information?” She rested her chin on an arm with an innocent smile.

“When I sent my application for the new job a few weeks ago, I gave it to the princess directly. It was late at night, and I bumped into her as she just left her room. The door was cracked open for a few seconds, before some royal, pompous guard slammed it right in my face. Yet, it wasn’t before I saw the pile of,” she counted on her fingers, “cow, sheep, bird, dog, and several horse stuffed animals piled high by her big, blue bed. I bet if I peeked for just a few more moments I could have found enough to pin her as a true horse girl.”

Robbie shrugged his shoulders, unconsciously rapping the table with his finger. “Well, speaking as a horse guy myself, I can attest to the fact that the childhood horse obsession phase never leaves, so I find Princess Zelda’s collection quite admirable.” He gave a nod towards Zimiri. “Either way, it’ll be tough to top that, Zim. Cute, yet slightly concerning, fact about our future queen? Quite the competition. Shall I signal the waiter for a refill now?”

Zimiri plucked a few more strings from his lute, before finally setting it down on the floor. He tilted his head, playfully. The string with sage green beads seemed to sway with the tavern’s music, and he spoke with a glint in his eyes. “Well, I might be faced with impending failure and ultimate defeat, but hells if I’m not one to try instead of mope.”

He combed his fingers through his messy, white hair, pondering his next choice of words. Fiddling with the beads and strings wrapped around it, he thought out loud.

“Let’s see...to top out on an embarrassing fact about a respected princess...it's natural to combat it with something...personal? That always seems to be the more valuable information in this game…” Adello shook her head. He was playing right into her hand.

“Well...Robbie won last round with the identity of Cherry...so, how about I dish out something similar. See, I’ve...uh…” he rubbed the back of his neck, “Oh! Well. Court poet, shrine researcher, the job gets you close with the princess...kinda...I’d like to think we’re close anyhow…” He mumbled the last part of his sentence and let out a short cough. Then, he went back to fiddling with his short, messy hair.

“So… ever since I moved into the castle, When did my mom move… five years now? I’ve, uh… had a crush on... Zelda…” He gave an uncertain grin, and raised the palm of his hands as if to ask, “well?”

At first he was met with silence. In his head, he started to celebrate the victory of his first ‘Till You Spill round in literal months. That was until he was met with groans and pitiful mutters.

“Oh Zimiri,” Purah sighed, “I was rooting for you too.” Seeing the bewilderment creep onto the poet’s face, Robbie answered the question before it even escaped his lips. “Literally everyone here knew that bud, it’s not a secret.”

The bard started to sputter, moving his hands in wild, questioning motions.

“But? Wha— I? You!? Didn’t you— I… W-Well I mean, I know Adello knew, I told her years ago, but you guys—”

“Oh my gods. Zimiri, you literally talk about her all the time, you’re totally in love. Given that we’re also the recipients of your long spiels and ballads about how ‘intelligent and thoughtful and amazing Zelda is,’” Purah said the words to mimic the tone of Zimiri’s honey sweet voice, “it’s exceptionally, extremely, very, very obvious.”

“R-Recognizing a person’s positive traits doesn’t instantly mean in love!”

The royal scientist leaned across the table and patted his head. “Right, but you also started attempting love songs a coincidental 2 weeks after starting your job of shrine research with her. Your eyes are already red, so whenever she passes by it’s like your pupils magically form into adoring hearts. Try to stay away from poker, it’s for your own good.”

Zimiri continued to sputter, his cheeks becoming roser by the second. Robbie turned to Purah. “So, all in favour of finding Adello’s spill better than Zimiri’s?” The two of them raised their hands in unison. “Alright buddy, secret sucked, so swig! WAITER PLEASE!”

Adello watched as the same woman she had seen near the bar earlier made her way to the table. Picking up a pitcher, she poured out a fresh cup of Adequate’s Apple Cider. The four of them had been here so many times, they didn’t even need to verbally ask for the order.

Before he could even start to reach for the cup, Adello snatched it out of the way. “Nah, it’s okay. I’ll do one for you, Zimiri. These two monsters have already tore you to shreds, and I’m sure I need a punishment anyway for coming in so late.”

He started to protest, but after catching the look in her dark, iron eyes, he relented. “Well, I thank you for your generosity.” The other two, however, were not as compliant.

Purah cupped her hands around her mouth, yelling, “Booooo... Boo to pity! Boo to generosity!” Robbie mimicked her.

“Yeah you have to respect your elders’ wishes. We demand blood! Suffering!”

Adello cracked her neck for show, before downing her glass of cider in a few gulps. The stench and tingling sensation seemed to stick to the sides of her throat. It would take more than water to clear that out. “Adequate” was being very generous when describing its quality.

“Mmmm. The cider’s weirdly salty tonight, I think your attitudes got mixed in here.”

Purah blew another raspberry at her.

They played for a few more rounds, the clatter of cups and breaths of laughter decorating the hours. Much to everyone’s distaste, Purah continued her winning streak, getting by with unbeatable information about the King, royal guards, and one embarrassing anecdote about how her little sister, Impa, had caught her writing an interesting letter to the “local archery hunk.”

Yet, Purah laughed along with the rest of them, the eyes behind her red rimmed glasses held no shame, which Adello envied. Of course that sort of attitude would make you a master at this game. Robbie and Adello attempted to team up and be biased towards Purah in an effort to get her to lose, but either Zimiri didn’t take the hint, or he just really liked playing fair which wasn’t exactly out of character, even if it meant more drinks for him.

Suddenly, a bell towards the back of the pub rang, signifying the end of the band’s gig. The dancing paused, as people gave their thanks, varying from politie applause to drunken yelps. Robbie then rapped the table with his hands, excitedly.

“You know what else tonight needs? Some amazing music, eh Zimiri?” He bounced his eyebrows up and down at him, and gestured towards the lute leaning on one of the table legs.

“I don’t know,” Zimiri replied, “I’ve only a part-time hire for the weekend rush hours, and I wouldn’t want to blindly get on stage and sing without being given permission.”

Adello scoffed. “Uh, are you kidding? The owner would love for you to play without paying you. Haven’t you heard the talk around town? The Adequate’s Tavern: Home of alright food and acceptable ale, but an outstanding bard!”

He fiddled with the string in his hair again. “Oh yeah? I’d love to meet him someday.” At this, Adello clicked her tongue and promptly shoved him out of his chair with her hip.

He laughed to himself as he stumbled aback. “Alright, alright, but only because the birthday tyrant requested it.” Robbie clapped his hands in a “chop-chop” fashion, to truly signify his role as the newly dubbed tyrant.

Suddenly, Zimiri perked his head. Stepping back towards the table, he reached for his cup. “Oh wait, I just lost that round. I still need to drink my—”

Adello grabbed the cup right out of his hands. She tipped it 180 degrees and let the cider spill completely onto the wooden floor. He hopped back, and Purah let out a surprised yelp, saying something about letting the stench seep into the floorboards. Robbie just started to laugh, wildly. Noticing the small commotion, a few other guests looked back at them and started to snicker to themselves.

Setting the cup back on the table, the researcher said, “Great, now you don’t need to ruin your voice any longer. Now get up there and one-up the last band.”

The bard pushed his chair under the table. Picking up his lute as he stood and faced Adello, a charming smile on his face. “Heh, well. My singing voice is grateful. I suppose now I’m in debt to comply.” He gave a curt bow.

Robbie clapped his hands again. “Great, great. Now quit the manners and let’s go already! I still have to order the cake pie!”

Both of the girls rolled their eyes in unison. Zimiri shrugged and started to walk through the small crowd of standing Hylians, and towards the small stage.

A few of the regulars who recognized him let out whoops and whistles, yelling out “Bard!” or “More music!” in support. It seemed that no one really knew his name, but it was nice enough to know that even working here part time would grant you the honor of being recognized by a bunch of random folk. One confused patron, who only associated him with “z” yelled out “Yeah, Zelda!” before promptly slumping under the table. Looking around, a blonde girl caught his eye, as it seemed she was staring at him. He waved, and her cheeks, much to Zimiri’s confusion, turned pink at his gaze and she turned to her friends who started giggling.

Moving past the last of the Hylians with an, “excuse me, sorry!” he finally stepped on the stage. The bard pulled up a small stool to the stage, leaning against it. Most of the folks continued to whoop in approval, seemingly eager for another chance to start dancing. Even the barkeep clapped his hands, probably excited at the thought of a free gig.

I guess, if no one is stopping me…

It was a rowdy bunch, but not a new one. Zimiri had played for these kinds of audiences before.

“I see that quite a few people are itching for a new tune. So, uh, any requests?” he announced as he strum a chord on his lute.

A mass of different voices bounced around the tavern, requests ranging from The Babbler’s Jig, Misko’s Tale, The Eldin Bluffs, and Can I Get More Ale? Although, Zimiri wasn’t quite familiar with the chords of that last song.

He couldn’t stop himself from being biased towards the request of a certain dark skinned girl to his left.

“The World Behind!” Adello said. “Enough with those new ballads, I demand a classic!”

Robbie pumped an arm in the air. “Yes!” he shouted. “I second that! So is my decree as birthday tyrant!”

The bard smiled, preparing the fingering on the neck of his lute. He turned towards the audience. “Well, I’m afraid I have no choice but to heed to such authority.” He began to pluck the beginning notes, tapping a tempo with his boot against the stage. “Now then, a beat, if you all would be so kind?”

The tavern chattered in approval, before piping down. There probably weren't more than 30 people, but the beat they made was definitely sufficient. The sound of stomping, banging mugs, and clapping filled the room. The tempo didn’t even need much adjusting, as The World Behind was pretty familiar around Castle Town. The beat was like a child pretending to be a marching soldier, unconcerned and playful.

Zimiri’s smile widened. A lively crowd indeed, this will do nicely.

With that, he started to sing. His silvery voice echoed across the tavern, as he closed his eyes and began to play.

The boys have gone out to the wishing well

Will they come back? Oh only time will tell

A rupee for a life refined

But time and dreams never align

So tell the world we’ll leave it all behind

Many of the guests had started to dance again, while the rest continued the beat of the song. As Zimiri plucked rapid notes on his lute, he heard a supporting holler from Purah. Next to her, Robbie was slamming his fist to the beat, clearly enjoying himself.

Have you seen the soldiers’ drinking ale?

They wish to sing along with nightingales

To dance on home with songs and rhymes

To banish all the fears from mind

Yes tell the world we’ll leave it all behind

Another pause between the verses, and the bard played the “decorative” rapid notes in between. He didn’t mean to seem like he was showing off, but Adello would attest to the fact that this happened whenever he got too into the music. Looking towards her, Zimiri saw her give a double thumbs up.

Of beasts and men and all atrocities

The damn-ed fate, she owns all that you see

To a better day of new design

Forgot about the gods divine

Oh tell the world we’ll leave it all behind

At this point, some of the guests were singing along, though not to the point of overpowering his own alluring voice. Laughter rang out around the warmly lit room once again. Zimiri looked out at the dancing patrons and smiling guests, grinning at the feeling in his chest this brought. He continued the last verse.

Watch the home while—

“HEY!”

The sudden gruff voice startled the bard to the point where he nearly slipped off the stage.

Lumbering through the double doors, three guards entered the tavern. The one in front, who had interrupted the music, wore a typical knight’s outfit, the same as his male and female coworkers behind him. However, the black hooded cape he wore atop his metal armour swayed with every step he took across the floor, his supposed rank silencing the room.

Well, mostly, silenced the room. A few ticked off guests were booing, groaning, and mocking him for ruining the entertainment.

“Oh would you lot shut up for 2 seconds?!” he said, his voice booming across the tavern. “Listen, I’ll be blunt. I gotta give two messages for this establishment.”

The guests shook their heads, mumbling. Their booing and insults continued, but their volume quieted, it was too early to be getting cross with a couple of knights. Even Zimiri quietly slipped off the stage back towards his friends so as not to be at the end of the knight’s intimidating voice.

The female guard behind the knight handed him a slip of parchment. Unfolding it, the guard cleared his throat.

“Firstly, your music and pounding is disturbing the noblemen next door. He’s staying at the inn or something and wants you to, quote,” he read from the paper, “quit the mindless thumping, for Castle Town is a place of serenity and peace, not of nonsense jigs and banging.”

The groaning and insults started up again; the man gave a shrug, stating something about how he was just following orders.

Adello couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “HA! Well, with an attitude like that, this’ll probably be the first and only time he’s been banged— he should be grateful.”

The room exploded into a mess of laughter and whoops. Even the guard smirked to himself, but attempted to hide it with a shake of his head, saying “Watch the mouth, girl.” Although, his stern tone wasn’t in it.

After a second, he cleared his throat again. With a stomp of his boot he regained the pub's attention, the laughter suffocated out.

“Now, we’re also here looking for a Dr. Robbie Kimura? I received word they might be around here?”

With the attention now towards a single table, most of the guests went back to their idle banter. A few waiters nodded their head towards the table in the back, and the man caught sight of three, white haired teenagers, who were sitting with the dark haired girl who had quipped out earlier.

The scientists turned around too late, in an effort to avoid the knight’s gaze. “Gee, what a bunch of snitches,” Robbie mumbled. The three guards started to walk over to the table.

“Dr...Robbie?”

“Who’s asking?” Robbie squinted with his dark brown eyes.

“Doctor? Really? Is this some kind of prank? You and your friends don’t even look old enough to drink.”

He scoffed. “Okay, first, yes I am a doctor! I didn’t fly through all those courses over four years just to be called, ‘Mr.’ And secondly, I’ll have you know that I am a ripe 20 years of age today, and I’m here drinking expired apple juice with my associates. So take that, pal!”

Beside him, Purah gave a proud nod in agreement. Zimiri started to wave politely at the guard, but Adello grabbed his arm before he could finish the movement. The guard was a bit unsettled with the way that girl was glaring at him. What was some random Hylian doing hanging out with a bunch of Sheikah anyway?

“Right, well, look here, son. Some curious aristo-brat snuck into the courtyard and caused one of those flying, metal Sheikah things to fall apart. My boss said that it was your prototype so you should come back and clean it up before something explodes, and possibly give a sincere apology to the meddling kid who got a few scratches.”

Robbie threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “You’re really gonna pull me out of a birthday just so I can go apologize to a spoiled kid for breaking in and ruining my Guardian?”

“If it lets me keep my job, then yeah.”

Robbie mumbled something about not getting a slice of the apple cake pie.

Suddenly, Adello got up and pushed her chair in, smoothing out the belt around her tunic as she walked towards them.

“Ah yes, well, thank you my dear assistant for the assessment but I’m capable of taking it from here.”

The guard raised a bushy, black eyebrow. “Sorry, wha—”

“You said you only wanted Dr. Robbie? Well great job, you found them. Now let’s get going, I need to finish up a new design anyway.”

“You’re...Robbie? You’re a... clearly not—”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I should have had my mother consult you for your opinion before I was given my name.”

This time, the guard didn’t smile along with her quip. “This is not the time for—”

She held up a finger to silence him, and glared at the three guards with her iron eyes.

“Look, I’m not a nobody. I’m more than capable of fixing up the guardian and any other disasters you might have left lying around the castle grounds. If I’m feeling generous, maybe I’ll even lick the kid’s boots, it’s not my first time dealing with this, alrighty?”

The knights looked at each other, quizzically. The researcher crossed her arms.

“You’re still following your precious orders, aren't you? How would you know what Dr. Robbie looks like? You can’t be faulted for not knowing someone you never met. So, you’ll just have to take my word for it.”

The blonde man behind the gruff, black caped guard, whispered something to his female coworker. Her gaze switched between the girl and the man. Still seeing the uncertainty in their eyes, Adello leaned closer to the knight and lowered her voice. “Come on, have a little heart, it’s his birthday.”

A beat of silence sat, only filled by the mild mumbling and chatter of the tavern. Finally, the guard let out a sigh.

“Alrighty Dr. Kimura. I’ll help escort you to the site.”

Robbie started to protest, but Adello quickly silenced him with a wink. The guard turned towards the rest of the room, yelling, “The rest of you, the sun is gonna rise in a few hours so save your rioting for then! Am I clear?”

The patrons just responded with stupid groans and half-hearted agreements. They started walking towards the door. The female guard started to put a hand on Adello’s shoulder, but she brushed it off, saying something along the lines of “I can walk on my own two feet, thank you very much.”

Purah turned in her seat. “I’ll save a slice of cake pie for you!” Adello turned her head and responded with a two fingered salute, before disappearing out the door with the guards.

The tension in the tavern was almost immediately cleared, the moment the knights left. Most of the people went back to their normal conversational volume, and the waiters began to patter about with more confidence. However, Zimiri slumped in his seat, letting out a sigh.

“Why does she always do things like that?”

Robbie fiddled with the edge of his cup, tracing his finger around the rim. “Well, you know her. Undermining authority? Check. Insults and quips? Check.”

Robbie continued to list off more traits, but it faded out of Zimiri’s ear. Always jumping onto other’s burdens. Ah, that idiot. I bet she hasn’t slept for the last two days.

Purah suddenly piped up, taking out her pen and rapping it against the table. “Alright you two, let’s not let the sacrifice be in vain. Pool your rupees, we’re getting Robbie the fancy cake pie.”

The clatter of a few red and blue rupees echoed on the wooden table, although Zimiri knocked Robbie’s share aside, saying how the birthday tyrant shouldn’t have to pitch in. Purah turned in her chair and started to wave her hand, in order to get the attention of a waiter. The bard watched as a woman with a tray started to walk over to the table. Then, he turned to Robbie.

“So what should we do while we wait?” Zimiri asked. Robbie stroked his chin, looking around the room.

“I think...the people could still use some music.”

Looking out at the crowd, Zimiri noticed how the guards' interference had really dampened the atmosphere. The warm and lively laughter that was present just a few moments earlier was now replaced with more monotone chatter.

He nodded his head in agreement, putting on a charming smile. The place needed a new pick-me-up, did it?

Well, what else is a bard for?

Stepping back onto the stage, he strummed an open chord, double checking the tuning. The whooping and clapping started to return, much to his delight. Plucking a familiar melody, the warm feeling in his stomach returned as he watched the new smiles that started to fill the room. However, before he began to sing, Zimiri first focused on craning his neck to look out a window, trying to catch a glimpse of a certain girl in the night.

It seemed the moon and sun were balanced on the edge of the world. The night had started to submerge behind the walls of West Castle Town, with only the brightest stars still perched upon the ink of the navy blue sky. The silver lining of greying clouds just barely glowed from the faint light of the day, still trying to break out of the eastern waters.

Adello’s footsteps echoed through the cobblestone streets, but she could barely hear it against the shifting of metal plates from the guards in front of her.

The gruff man looked back, scratching his peach fuzzed chin as he spoke. “Listen, if you finish your work quick I might be able to escort you back here.”

Adello shook her head. She turned to retrieve a journal from the pouch on her belt, opening its pages as an excuse to avoid his gaze. “No, it’s fine. I still have some more work I should be finishing up at home anyhow.”

“You...live at the castle?”

“Mmm.”

The guard took her blunt response as a sign to not continue with the niceties, much to Adello’s relief. Looking up, she gazed at the looming castle. Its towers were like mountain peaks, sitting above the blurred silhouettes of the buildings of Castle Town.

Taking out a bit of charcoal, she started to sketch its outline on a fresh page in her journal. While she only had one color, she tried to capture the shadows and lighting that cascaded on one side of the castle to the other.

The female guard slowed her step, starting to walk alongside the researcher.

“Already working?”

Adello didn’t look up from her journal. “Uh… you could say that.”

She laughed. “Well you best hope you know what you’re doing. This kid’s father has been yelling at Her Highness all night. Supposedly because she’s helping to lead Sheikah research, so everyone associated with guardians is at fault.”

Adello finished up the tower of Princess Zelda’s study in her sketch. She smiled to herself at the finished work. It was one of her better pieces. Putting the journal away, she turned back to the guard and scoffed. “Is that so?”

The guard hummed a yes, her blonde braid swaying to each side as she walked. “Apparently, the kid is the son of some visiting nobleman from the East Post. It’d be in your best interest to apologize profusely if you still wanna walk around alive.”

Adello shook her head. She didn’t know it then, but looking back, many moons from now, she would laugh at the irony of her response.

“I’d rather die.”

#botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda botw #loz botw #botw fanfiction #where time takes us #botw oc #adello #zimiri

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shibalen · 4 years

Note

Hi! I’m so sorry about the earlier request! I misread the rules (._. ) I’d like to request from Akatsuki No Yona and Haikyuu. I prefer a romantic type of matchup. I’m a Capricorn and infp. I have a fairly large social circle and quite talkative with others. But there are times I prefer my own time and silence. I trust people easily and am loyal to my friends. I’m a left hander. My hobbies are writing, reading and watching anime. I listen to various types of music. It depends on my mood. (😁)

I’m a literature student and love to learn about technology. I have three cats and one dog. I adore animals, even insects but not spiders XD. I like dark colours and dark themed movies and stories. My ideal type of date is chilling inside a cafe or walking along a forest or a silent place talking with each other. I’m into carefree guys who get serious in the time of need. (😁)

The type of a guy who would dance around with me in the kitchen and jam to songs with me in the car and also be there when I have a breakdown. I’m an impatient fellow and tend to lose my focus easily. I’d like to request music box and dark box uwu. That’s it! Thanks! And sorry again for the earlier request! Love your blog! (😁)

♡︎ matchup for 😁anon

heya howdy doodle doo! how're you? i hope you didn't get too tired of waiting and actually see this. hehe. i gave these results lots of thought so i'm happy if you like them too!

akatsuki no yona: i match you with . . .

jae-ha !!

• you guys match so well i can't— your zodiacs, mbti, personality and your type of person are simply pointing at Jae-ha with a big red arrow!

• Jae-ha is chill and social by nature. that paired with your love for talking with people makes you a really social couple. i can easily picture the two of you being the life of most conversations.

• also when there's a crisis or any more serious situation going on you're both usually the ones to calm others down. your presence makes them feel at ease and honestly Jae-ha admires that so much in you ♡︎

• he knows he can trust you with his burdens and count on you to be there for him. he may not always voice them out loud but you know he needs your comfort when he silently lays his head on your shoulder.

• of course this goes both ways and he will never let you be alone during a breakdown. somehow he always finds the right things to say or do to help you find yourself again. his voice is deep and soothing and he will happily put it to use if it makes you feel at ease.

• though he does have a sharper intuition when it comes to strangers and therefore makes sure nobody takes advantage of you. however there was definitely one time where he let you buy something extremely overpriced just to tease you about it later

• the worse the scam the more poisonous the words he speaks to them with that lazy smile. then he escorts you away while waving a hand.

• "you have to be more careful, flower. i don't want some guy eventually making you give your heart away too, " he flirts

• "too late," you respond. "this one green-haired guy with stupid jokes already has it."

• BOOM

• ahem.

• at first you thought he was the worst case of a womanizer, and you preferred your possible partner to reciprocate your loyalty. unfortunately otherwise he was just your type so you couldn't help but be drawn to him.

• Jae-ha was attracted to you too from your smart and fun personality to your hobbies and taste in music. he loved how you stood your ground yet how flexible you were with your likes.

• obviously he didn't give up on you despite your little façade. he proved his loyalty runs deeper than most when he's fallen for the right person. you're his special, dear person and won't let anything or anyone come between that.

• will wear matching dark outfits with you! claims it's not his style but likes it surprisingly a lot. you might do ridiculous poses just to embarrass Hak.

• can be heckin annoying when it comes to your writing though. "are you going to write me into your story? of course you are ;)" "is the main character me?" don't get him wrong, he adores your writing and that's why he gets so excited about it. other times he does it on purpose to get your attention smh

• overall, light-headed teasing is something he will always do just to see you flustered. it's so adorable he can't help it. leaning in extra close to you while you're cooking together, highkey boasting about you to his friends, starting and winking at you, plus all sorts of cheesy one-liners.

• but Jae-ha is smart and knows when to give you space. when you're ready to interact again he's already prepared for a date!

• Jae-ha is romantic even on daily basis, bringing you flowers or small trinkets that he knows you like. just seeing you smile at his loving gestures makes his cheeks warm and heart beat fast (though he tries not to show it)

• please listen to him playing the erhu, he does it especially for you. when you're out on a rooftop on a moonlit night he'll serenade you with his songs.

• your dates include: walks around the outskirts of towns, moongazing, him leaping through the sky with you securely in his arms, dinner at different inns and travens with music and parties or by a bonfine and you two just being silly. also creative activities like pottery and sketching ♡︎

❦︎ ink box

— this happened before your relationship even started, back when Jae-ha first realised his feelings for you.

— you wouldn't expect it, but he struggled with these emotions a lot. this was the first time he had ever felt this way towards anybody, after all. his natural reaction was to distance himself from you because he was scared, whether he admitted it to himself or not.

— he was afraid of being tied down and tying you down. he knew love required commitment and you valued loyalty. he dreaded he wouldn't be good enough for you, instead becoming the source of your pain. you deserved much more than he was, and he was a coward.

— there was also the problem of putting you in danger because of the group's mission. any injury you'd get would be his fault and that was too much a thought to bare.

— he thought he was being smooth avoiding you, preparing for his leave without hurting you. he thought. but you were smarter, you knew Jae-ha was kind. he wouldn't do this to hurt you—not after all those fun memories you'd made together!

— refusing to beat around the bush, you tried confronting him. however, by that time he'd already set out to the next destination. he had left, without a word of goodbye.

— thankfully, Zeno was the quickest to notice Jae-ha's broken demeanor. it was heartbreak which he himself knew too well. he pulled the green dragon aside the next evening as they were gathering wood and stubly hinted Jae-ha shouldn't do anything he would regret for the rest of his life.

— the rest of the gang was quick to join after Kija happened to overhear the conversation. they all (even Ao) swore to take care of you if Jae-ha wouldn't be able to.

— you were halfway up the mountain chasing after him when Jae-ha landed directly in front of you. he was out of breath and dishevelled but the desperate glint in his eye shone brighter than any star in the sky.

— you embraced and shared a sweet kiss under the night sky. he apologised more times than you could count but after almost shattering your heart you didn't let him off the hook that easily. well, he had the rest of his life with you to make it up to you ♡︎

♡︎ runner up: Hak

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

haikyuu: i match you with . . .

rintaro suna !!

• Suna is a little different from the previous match but my instincts told me to put you together regardless! i think your personalities balance each other out while sharing the same core basics.

• you're both laid-back and have no problems interacting with people but still like your alone time. as in infp you seek new knowledge and Suna, being the smartass he is, will never bore you. he can be both silent and talkative, whichever you prefer.

• will definitely join you in being social but in a subtle way. he'll stand/sit next to you with an arm around you while you're talking to your friends. really chill but also knows how to hold a conversation and chime in with a clever comment.

• once he notices you becoming tired he casually steers you away from the rest, saying you two have to go now. how is this guy so smooth? really though he just wants to be alone together with you.

• you guys met when your social groups came together. it's that 'friend of a friend of a friend' chain and thus somehow you ended up going to one of his games because a person you knew didn't want to go alone.

• they knew Kita so y'all went to congratulate him on the win later. he then introduced you the team and therefore, of course, Suna.

• you thought he was pretty and you chatted a bit but nothing much happened. it was through these continuous meetings afterward that eventually pshed you two together ♡︎

• you had so much to talk about! stories, technology, hobbies, music, a little gossip. he liked how opinionated you were and how much you knew, then found it amusing how easily distracted you got.

• his advances were really subtle yet continuous and efficient! though some of them were kind of teasing. made sure you were comfortable with your friendship first before stating his exact feelings for you.

• Suna isn't afraid of pda and if you are too, he'll be holding your hand, having you sit on his lap, giving you kisses on your face and hand. yet although others mifht see, it feels as though every touch is a secret language meant for bust the two of you.

• his advice is quite blunt but he does it out of love, plus his actions are much softer and really patient when you're at rock-bottom. i assure you anyone neglecting your feelings is not safe.

• you're both into dark-themed stuff! y'all go to movies, festivals, bookshops and alike looking so hella aesthetic, i swear. what a beautiful couple (☆ω☆)

• your pets love Suna after they've gotten used to him. sometimes when he comes over the cats will come chill around him. it's like he's one of them and it's hilarious. you have a bunch of pictures on your phone of him and your dog.

• you like showing those photos off to his teammates because they're just that good, but instead of getting embarrassed Suna will either just agree or jokingly ask why haven't you made it your background yet.

• overtime he's learnt how to keep your focus from going too astray, though you can't say he's always vigilant himself. he slacks off during boring lectures and would much rather talk to you. the teacher had to seperate you pfft—

• can and will jam to all times of music with you in the kitchen, even if just ironically. one time his little sister caught the two of you vibing to an opera preformance and homeboy just shrugged it off and continued because you both thought it was funny.

• your dates include: going on hikes especially after a stressful period (Suna most definitely did not look up the best places near your home and prepared your favorite snacks), cat cafés, staying at home and cooking a meal cause this boy probably only knows how to pour water over noodles, and long drives and blasting music ♡︎

♫︎ music box

— I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys

— Caroline by Crash Adams

— Blinding Lights by The Weekend

— Your Dog Loves You by Colde

— Hey Boy by Sia (what you'd jokingly lip-sync to for him)

♡︎ runner up: Atsumu Miya

thank you so much for requesting and i apologise for the huge delay (ಥ﹏ಥ) still, i hope you enjoyed! have a lovely day and please stay safe ♡︎

#len's matches #matchups #😁anon #haikyuu matchups #akayona matchups

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geekygoddesss · 5 years

Text

B.F.F (Part 2)

Summary: Journey through the life of a girl whose heart belongs to her best friend, but he doesn’t feel the same way.

Words: 9.2k

Taglist: @dreamer-loves-lyrics (if you wanna be added, let me know)

She did not sleep that night.

It was impossible for her to know why or how but she could not sleep one bit after last night’s events and it was the worst feeling in the whole world. At least that is what she thought at the moment, because the feeling of having him sleeping soundingly by her side, so close but so far away and then that strange feeling of not being able to make her mind shut up and overthink every little thing that crossed her mind, were the perfect recipe to have her fidgeting all night and not being able to rest how she initially intended to and it was driving her crazy.

The minutes became hours and the seconds were eternal as she tried her very best to shut her body down for at least one more hour, but it was only until she started hearing those familiar birds singing right outside her window when she knew she would not be able to rest for one more minute, whatever she had in mind was foolish because her previous sleeping schedule was just a joke compared to the current events and just the thought of taking a couple of hours for herself to rest were instantly cancelled. Her day was already sketched out, she had no time for any extra sleep.

She woke up at first light and let her friend sleep it off and hopefully drown his hangover in his sleep; She opted to have a small breakfast and a full cup of coffee that would keep her up and charged for the next couple of hours, she put on some decent clothing, made her usual pancake mix for hangover day, got those done before she was too lazy to do them and then laid on the sofa, hoping that maybe (just maybe) her body would shut up at any moment and let her mind rest.

Unfortunately, that was not going to happen and she knew that, especially after all of the things that went through her mind just a couple of hours ago, she was too awake and aware now. After last night events and a lot of thinking, it all has come down to this; she thought about it, had a good old pillow talk, analyzed it just like she has done before and know had a clear decision in her mind. She needed help because this was not normal.

It was not normal for her to get so nervous around him, it was not normal for her to be so jealous and it was not normal for her to keep having the same feeling about him after five years. It was time to move on. She really needed help and she was not going to get it just sitting down on her ass and waiting for something to happen, she needed to act rather sooner than later before her mind played her one bad trick and something disastrous happened.

That is just why she took again that last decision she made just a couple months ago over a mental breakdown. Right where she was she laid on her couch, waiting for her alarm to go off and just before it could strike, one minute before her selected time, she picked up her phone and she dialed that number written on that presentation card sitting on her coffee table, the one that she had pulled out with decision just when she woke up. She called and hope for the best, because only gosh knows how difficult it actually is to get professional help from the best of the best, or at least from the best recommendation she could find.

At least she tried, that’s what counted at the end of everything.

“Hello! Mrs. Davidson office, what can I help you with?” Said that sweet voice at the other side of the line after the fourth ring with a tired but still oddly polite and enthusiastic tone.

It was the only thing she wanted to hear in that particular moment and knowing someone answered at the other side of the line was just music to her ears.

Maybe it was a little extremist of her to be so rushed about such a thing that might or might not make some kind of difference in her, but before she could come down to any sort of conclusion, she needed to try and get professional help, just to see if her mind was in the right place, and it’s only fair to say she really wanted to try, because it has been a month worth of trying to get a hold of this and she was finally getting response from the only therapist worth paying to in the whole area.

and Oh lord she does need those sessions.

“Hi! Uh, I don’t know if you remember me, I’m (Y/n) Pritchett” She said nervously, already getting up and starting to pace around her living room in pure nervourness “I’ve been calling for a while now, I was wondering if you had any open places right now?” She asked, diving in directly to the point without any kind of filler, she needed it now. “Oh, honey, of course, I remember” She says sweetly after the mention on her name. She smiled a little in instinct, of course she remembered, this was not the first time she tried to reach them. “We just had a patient discharged from their sessions, you called just in time” She announced with some kind of happiness in her voice and made her heart beat faster.

She jumped in place in happiness, she felt like a winner, mainly because getting a spot in this place was so difficult this thing felt like winning the lottery, but also she saw some kind of hope in what her main goal was, she finally saw a solution to her problems and that was just what she needed right now.

It was an exciting moment, In fact, it was so exciting she didn’t think twice about it, she ran to the kitchen and picked up some pen and paper right where they always were, she didn’t want to lose any single detail, this was some important information.

“Yes yes yes” she said, her voice sounding like she was in a rush “Sign me in”

“Alright” the lady said, again, in that overly enthusiastic voice that seemed a bit odd to hear so early in the morning, “There are three sessions open at the moment if you want to take them, Are Thursday afternoons okay? At 5” She said, sounding like if she was moving stuff around and setting things down.

She moved quickly, grabbed her agenda and took the quickest look at it. She wanted to fricking yell in happiness right now, because that scheduling was just fitting so perfectly in her timing it was like destiny calling to her and she had no doubt to answer. “That’s perfect, thank you!” she cheered, writing down the day and time down as quickly as she could “Can I start this week?” she asked, hoping for a quick answer. “Of course” The lady answered right away “I’ll just need a phone number and....” that’s where she stopped listening, from now on it all seemed like just words floating in the air for her, because she was so excited she was just giving out every single piece of information they need, it was worth it.

She wrote down everything, from the timing she had to take to the place to all of the information she needed to bring with her, address, phone numbers, possible prices for extra timing, everything. She needed to be completely sure she would be ready for this new therapist because after getting a date with her there was no going back. It won’t happen twice.

“Thanks, thank you” She said, once she had all of the information down and could finally breathe properly “Thank you so much, I will be there” she assured, nodding various times as she heard the secretary say her greetings at the other side of the line and hung up the call.

Finally.

Her mind finally seemed to relax a little bit and some of that tension left her shoulders, finally, she would be able to talk about her situation openly to someone who will help her do something productive about it. It was all she wanted and needed.

It was needless to say that even when she still had two days left to that appointment, she was already feeling pretty excited to show up in that office, she has never been with a therapist, she was never tried to go to one (until now), so going for the first time seemed like a big deal and she was excited about it. She could not wait to know what the hell was happening to her, because at this point, she didn’t even know a fraction of it anymore. She needed to know more.

She took one minute to close her eyes and breathe properly, letting her muscles relax a little after she finally got what she wanted, because this is pretty much what’s been keeping her up all night, the thought of being so torn on the inside and the feeling of looking for help but not knowing where now she knew where to start and that was a good feeling inside of her.

Her thoughts were heavily interrupted by the series of grunts sounds and motion of things moving behind her back that scared the shit out of her. Those really came in as a surprise and she was seriously at the verge of having a heart attack once she heard those out of the blue. She turned around way too quickly, she had almost forgotten Luke was still there, sleeping his ass off back in her bedroom, which apparently was not a thing anymore, now that he was all awake and serving himself a pancake while eating another one with his hand. She bit out a curse, because that was what she felt like doing once she turned to see his tall figure in front of her, she had totally forgotten about his presence and now she was speechless, it was like she’s seen a ghost, it was weird of him to be up this early in the morning, especially in this state, so her being surprised could be easily justified.

“Good morning” He said in a mumble, glancing over at her and walking to the kitchen counter in a slow motion to take a sit, a clear sign that he was not in the mood and not on the right energy.

“Hello” she answered, putting her phone down and away, as she tried to calm her breathing down that perfectly matched her heavy beating heart. He had really scared the shit out of her, it was not even funny.

Although he was looking like a total mess, in her eyes he was still glowing like any other morning. His hair was a complete mess of curls and tangles, suited by the small peaks of sunlight that came from the window and made his hair look like gold strands on top of his head. His eyes were sleepy and still so bright, his body curved in one lazy posture that could never look attractive for any other person but not for her, this was his worst look and even on it, he was looking flawless on her eyes. The way he walked around her kitchen barefoot and shirtless, with that heavy look on his eyes after his sleep and not feeling even a bit annoyed for having to deal with her so early in the morning was something that seemed so small but very valuable, and silently, she wished for herself that this could be something she was able to see every morning, because it was one hell of a show she wanted to look at forever.

Shit happens though and now it was on her to move on from things like this and she will not get it distracting herself with things like this. This was one clear call that she needed to focus, he is just a friend, she needed to act like so. “Oh wow, you couldn’t wait for me to get in those pancakes” She sighed, trying to not look like she was just pushed at the verge of a heart attack and intending to act cool. “They are calling my name” He excused himself in one weak and raspy tone that made clear he was sleeping just a couple of seconds ago.

For some reason, his voice sounded so sweet for her, like music to her ears…

Focus. “Right” She nodded, pushing all of those things she had in hand aside and proceeding to grab some pancakes herself.

He did not look at her at any time since he sat on the table, he was just there, leaning both of elbows over the counter and resting his forehead on his hands. Some may say he is crying, but she knows him too well, the reason he is like this only means he is feeling too much to even be awake by this time and the whole world might seem to weight a heavy one on him after one crazy night. She understood that feeling so well and with him, she knew what it looked like.

“What time is it?” He groaned, pecking over to the side just to see her pour herself a cup of coffee and sprinkle a couple chocolate chips over her pancakes. “For you, It’s early, it’s 9” She chuckled, looking over at him for a small second just to see his reaction because he had clearly zero sense of what was happening around him at this time. “God dammit” He groaned hard, dramatically letting his fist fall on the table and shaking his head “this is not right” he stated, closing his eyes as an emphasis.

There was nothing she could do or say more than to laugh, because that was somehow true, this was not right; on a regular hungover morning she would usually expect him to get up around three in the afternoon, sometimes four if the night was too heavy on him, but today it was like he felt extra especial and decided to get up earlier than ever, maybe something was up, it was weird and yes, it was not right. He would have to get through that though. “How are you feeling?” she asked, walking over the counter to leave her plate over her assigned spot and taking advantage of this to take one good look at him.

He was still a beautiful mess. “My head is killing me” he admitted, still not daring to open his eyes and pressing them together tight with annoyance “It’s like a small ticking bomb is going on again and again-” “There’s an Advil there, take it” she interrupted before he kept going because they both knew he could go on with the whining for a while. She grabbed the box she laid there earlier and pushed it his way, along with the cup of water beside it. “You really went in last night, holy crap, you could have warned me about it before, I would have prepared myself mentally to babysit twice” she said, totally ruining his whining moment and turning it into one small pep talk, but he didn’t need it, at least not now, his whole self was feeling too crappy and unstable to give a damn.

However, she still had a point. Whenever this kind of days came and Luke would come to her for moral support on those drunk nights, it would usually be on the kind of nights were she had to charge batteries to take care of her little brother on the next day, which was certainly a job on her eyes, so having to take care of a baby and then one big baby earlier that day was for sure double the job, but she didn’t complain about it, she was fine with it. “Funny” he mumbled, opening his eyes just a tiny bit to have one look at her to then say “I’m sorry for not telling” She nodded “Apology, barely accepted” she teased, before grabbing the metal spatula sitting on the right side of the counter and pointed it at him “Next time you knock my door so late at least have someone call me” she warned in a not completely serious tone, but still somehow serious “Understood?” she asked, raising one eyebrow as he processed what the hell was going on and decided on what to do. He raised both hands off the counter and looked up at her straight “Put the spatula down” he said slowly and totally following her lead “I’m innocent”

She chuckled, nodding a little as she lowered the tool and rolled her eyes “Yeah, right” she mumbled, giving a step back “Coffee?” she asked, now in the mood to wake him up in a better way than this.

“Black” He said in answer, even though she only needed a yes or a no, she knew how he had his coffee in the mornings.

They would usually either have small talks or really in depth talks at this times in the morning, it was their thing whenever one of them stayed over, it was like their time for catching up and to build up whatever their mood was going to be for the day. On mornings like this, it was when he would think clearer, even when hangover, so she thought it would be a good time have a good check in him and see what’s been going on in his life, make sure he was okay, because after last night she didn’t exactly know what was going on in his head and she was fairly intrigued by that, she just wanted to make sure he was doing fine.

“Who was that on the phone?” He asked, swallowing down the pill with some water to them munch on a piece of pancake from his plate.

Her feeling sparked in one split of a second.

Has he been listening to her conversation? How long? and what part of it?. She had a million questions but she had to act natural.

“No one” she said, pouring out some of his coffee in a mug “Just, you know..” she continued, trying to find the right word and excuse to drown down any sort of questions. So she looked over her shoulder and meet his eyes “Dentist” she answered, hoping it would work.

“Ouch” he cringed, scrunching his nose at the mention of such a thing “is it that bad?” he asked.

It was no secret that Luke Hemmings was not the bravest person when it came to going to the dentist, so in his case, he would only show up at this kind of places either at the most painful times or when someone made him go, so hearing that his best friend would have to go there meant that she could possibly be in pain. She stayed still, shrugging a little bit “My tooth hurts” she simply said, turning to him and walking on his direction to hand him his cup of coffee. “Oh man” he said, grabbing the cup for himself “that could be your wisdom teeth you know? I heard this is the age when they start bugging around” he mentioned, cringing even more “When is your appointment due? Do you need company?”

Now, he was probably asking too many questions and she needed to drown them down as best as she possibly could, this lie didn’t need to be a bigger lie. “No thanks” she said, taking a seat on the table “I’m sure it’s just a small thing, doesn’t feel like wisdom tooth pain” she assured him with a very awkward chuckle “it’s whatever”

He looked at her with a weird gaze as she dug in her pancakes and instantly knew there was something up with her. How? she didn’t know, he just knew she was not being completely honest with him, maybe it was because of how awkward she was acting, or maybe because she was giving him too little information, he just knew something didn’t felt right; however, he just let it pass, it was too early to think, he would ask later. “You’re acting weird” he mentioned, grabbing the small syrup container on the table and fixing his pancakes up.

Her eyebrows raised up high, suddenly fake acting like she was upset. “Don’t talk to me about weird, you are the weird one here mister Rum Coke” she chuckled, pointed at him with her fork, which was a bit intimidating in a way if you asked him.

He closed his eyes and nodded. He knew this was coming in some way. He came here drunk in the middle of the night, gave her one accurate but still a bit distorsionated version of what went down that night and then slept it off, he couldn’t sit here and just pretend like nothing happened, he was almost in the obligation to explain himself, especially to her, he owed her a lot.

“How bad was it? Give it to me straight” he asked, knowing that she could possibly know more than himself about what his actions were in his drunk state.

Things were partly crazy and part underwhelming, but he still needed to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid, not only for his image but for his safety, her safety. All he needs is for her to fill up the empty spots of the story in his head if she even knew what happened around those times.

“Did I break something? Fucked something? Said something weird? I would like to know” he kept asking as she ate, slowly stopping to grab the next bite as she heard his questions loud and clear. “You don’t remember anything?” she asked in disbelief. “I remember most of it but I just want to make sure” he said, raising both of his eyebrows and shrugging.

They stared at each other deeply in the eyes, one of them waiting for the other to speak first, but they both knew he was the one who needed to start off with something because after last night, she only knew so little about what happened and she needed to know until what specific point he had memories of the night, she couldn’t just guess and tell him the full story, she wasn’t even there. She wasn’t invited.

“Okay, so, I went there and had a good meal and I promise I was completely sober by that point” He started telling the story, making his very best to narrow it down but at the same time not hide the important details “Mitchy got there with the rest of people at one, I think, and we went outside, lit up a blunt, that’s when things seem a little blurry and then... Tatiana” he said, closing his eyes at the awkward reminder of that weird moment. “Sweet Sweet Tatiana” She teased, grabbing a bite of her food.

He ignored that, he didn’t want to touch on the subject of how a stranger grabbed his ass on the first hook up. “I don’t know how I got here after” he admitted, moving on from his story, but he had a bad feeling about this one.

Her eyes sparked to the mention of this one because her posture changed into a straight one and the corners of her mouth went into a straight line. “I do, you drove” she said, almost containing herself into pouring out all of her feeling about that situation. “Are you still in the mood for a speech about personal and community safety?” She asked, leaving her food aside and totally getting serious about the matter. He closed his eyes “I’d rather not” “Good because it’s incredibly irresponsible” She started, knowing how annoying she was probably being at the moment, but she didn’t care, he needed to know. “You know who never gets drunk? Michael, you could have waited for Crystal to get drunk and ask for a lift like we all do” She went on, making sure he knows he definitely had other options than driving himself “you could have called me to pick you up, you brother is here too! You could have told him to take you home, you literally have no excuse, you could have run over someone, Luke, it’s a big deal!” her voice raised a little, and even herself found it to be annoying, but it was necessary, pep talks are never supposed to be nice. “Okay, in my defense, she was not drinking and I’m very sure Michael was tipsy and Jack didn’t even go, he had to work today or something” he said, munching on his food and still keeping a low attitude on this. “My point is still there, Michael and Crystal always desígnate a driver, you could have asked” she said, shrugging, she knew this by heart, she would always come back home with one of them whenever she went partying and this was pure proof that Luke had zero excuses for drunk driving. Hopefully, he learned something. “So, you had a date” he changed the topic, smiling cynically and hoping she would drop that last topic, because his head hurt and he was in no mood to talk about his responsibilities, he knew he was irresponsible. The way she stopped only to glance at him and then roll her eyes was powerful, she even let out the most bitter chuckle he has ever heard he do at this time in the morning, but she wasn’t mad or anything, she was just trying to make him see that what he did was wrong and she did that successfully, but maybe this was something it would be better to talk about when he was on his five senses, so she dropped it, just like he wanted to, it was no time to get in this kind of conversations.

“I thought you’d mention that, nice way to change the topic by the way” she chuckled, pointing at him with her fork for a couple of seconds before letting it go completely. she was shaking her head in agreement, she would touch on this particular topic later when he had full awareness that this was completely dangerous. “Tell me all about it” he nodded, leaning in on his seat and getting serious. She narrowed her eyes before saying “We’re not done” she said in a threatening tone. “Just tell me” he said, totally sounding like he was tired, but he really wasn’t. She got it, though, he was in no mood to talk about such thing and he didn’t blame her, because she wasn’t either, at all.

She took a small second to have a recap of what went down for her night and what kind of feeling it brought to her. It was not like she had much to say about it because it was seriously underwhelming, and if there was someone she didn’t want to be commenting this with, was him, because he is the one person that makes her feel real feelings and the guy who she tried something with was nowhere near what he could be. She didn’t need to be discussing that with him, and yet here she was. “It was okay” she simply said, nibbling on pieces of her food and not looking directly at him.

Again, she really didn’t have much to say about it since it was literally the most boring and simple date she’s ever had, she didn’t want to be talking about it, she told him last night anyways. If only he remembered the whole thing, if only he hasn’t been that drunk, if only he would leave this kind of topic for some other time like he did with him. “Just okay?” he asked, completely being uncomfortable and not conformed with her answer. “It was alright, I told you already” she said, shrugging, but that wasn’t enough, he was looking at her with this look that was so demanding she could feel the pressure on her. So she took a quick bite of her food and gave him whatever he wanted. “Right, Uh, we went to this Italian restaurant and had dinner, it was really nice” she said, starting up her story. “What did you had?” he interrupted her before she could even start up properly. “Pasta” “Okay, go on” he allowed, moving his hand in confirmation that she could keep going. She nodded, understanding what she said and taking one small sip of her coffee. “Then we went for some beer and he dropped me off here” she explained, pretty much closing up the story and going back to her number one priority, Food.

Luke stayed quite all of that time, waiting for more information, details, a story, but none of those things came in, because there was no story aside from that, there was nothing worth talking about, it was just a regular date with a regular guy that didn’t have anything exciting in his life. That was all. “That’s it?” he asked in a surprised tone, clearly waiting for something else to come up, but with that kind of date nothing more than that could ever come up. “That’s it” she shrugged at his reaction.

His face was really one beautiful poem, because as he tried to get through the horrible feeling of having a hangover he was also trying to get through the fact that his best friend had a date and it was the least interesting date in the history of date, he wished he could know more, but there was nothing more than that to know. “Didn’t he tried to stay in for a while longer, at least?” he asked, clearly being upset over this story more than she was. “Nope, he drove me here at midnight and that was it” she shook her head, not really helping on the situation of how boring this was.

He sighed, rolled his eyes and put the biggest piece of pancake in his mouth, already being over this story and not believing she has such back luck on this one. “Bummer” he groaned, sighing deeply. She didn’t know how else she could make him know that she didn’t care about it at all, so she just nodded and followed his lead. “He’s boring anyways, I don’t care, I was the only one talking the whole time, to the point my throats was just so tired of making sounds” she mentioned, chuckling at that but it was really not funny. One deep silence felt between them, that only lasted a couple seconds before she let out the most important detail. “he ordered for me” She said, in small tone, which didn’t make the situation any better.

His eyes went wide, he was left speechless and the most bitter laugh ever left his mouth in disbelief. “What?!” he exclaimed in surprise. She nodded “Was it good?” he asked. She pressed her lips together. Now that was a tricky question.

“Carbonara” she said, shrugging. It was not that bad, but not that good, pretty average. He blinked in pure surprise “Fuck” he let out without any second thoughts “and he made you pay for that? That sucks” he said, frowning even more as he spoke.

She sensed he was getting a bit upset about the situation and she guessed it would probably be better if tried to make the story a bit better. But that was not possible in any way. “I don’t care, I like carbonara” She excused in one blank tone, acting indifferent about the situation “pizza looked great though” she added, knowing by heart it would not make the situation any better, but she was speaking the truth after all. “He’s not right for you, you deserve a lot better” Luke said without any kind of hesitation, not even thinking about it twice. “Yeah” she chuckled, trying to agree with him but that would be a bit pathetic.

Instead, she looked down, not being able to hold any sort of eye contact anymore and trying to focus on something else, anything else, that could possibly go through her mind. This is why she didn’t like discussing her love life with him because it was just so pathetic it was kind of painful to be admitting such things out loud. The fact that he was playing a big part in that was also not helping in anyway, she just wanted to move on from this.

To her sudden silence, Luke takes it as a chance to give her some support, because he could see she was now feeling weird and as her best friend he wanted to do more, he felt like he had to do something, like it was a responsibility for him and he didn’t mind it at all, he would give her support at anytime. So he leaned over the table and placed his hand over hers. She froze, this was not something that she expected from him.

“Listen to me” he said, now in a serious tone “if he takes you on a date and doesn’t pay for your food, don’t makes the minimal effort to keep you with him a little longer, can’t grow balls to make up more conversation and keeps you talking the whole time, it’s a clear sign, he’s not right for you” he keeps going, growing more and more serious each time and totally making her nervous.

She didn’t know what to say, the fact that his hand was holding her like that made her a bit nervous and she couldn’t help but think, this could turn out differently if she wasn’t such a coward, she could grab his hand back, look at him in the eyes and just say it, speak her real feelings out loud and finish with all of this mental conflict inside of her head, but she wouldn’t do that. This was no moment for something like this and she new it, she had to keep going with her original plan. “Sometimes you win sometimes you lose” she simply said in one weak tone. He pressed his lips together, nodding in understanding as he said “You just have to look for someone you’re really in love with, not just any guy, someone who is really worth your love, you know?” he stated, giving her one small and supporting smile.

She appreciated the effort. She really did, but he had no idea... “I know” she softly, smiling back at him and nodding, already giving up with this whole situation and ready to move one.

The second she felt his hand squeeze hers, was the same second she decided to pull her hand away and put it right on her lap. It made her nervous, this kind of contact for them was usual, but sometimes, it was still weird for her to be this...intimate, especially giving her current situation, she needed to distract herself from this.

“Anyways” she nervously laughed, making more than clear that she didn’t wish to speak anything else about this matter.

He nodded, understanding her signal and moved on. “Are you doing something today? You’re already dressed” he asked, looking at her up and down and sipping on his own coffee.

She was so glad he asked such a thing. This was just the thing she wanted to talk about. “It’s my weekend with Joe” she said, growing one big smile on her face “Wanna come with me and see how far he can throw a baseball this time?” she said in an inviting tone, hoping she would make the situation seem more attractive than it was.

Her parents and her have had a deal ever since her little brother was old enough to count to ten and it was that every weekend, any of those two days, she would get the chance to bring him over to her apartment and have a sleepover, so they could have some time alone and she could have some quality time with her little brother. It was a deal that she couldn’t deny and for three years, this has become her weekly routine that she couldn’t seem to break, she liked it way too much.

However, as much as Luke loved that kid, he scrunched his nose at the sound of that plan; maybe he wasn’t in the mood or just didn’t feel to deal with a kid right now, but it was not looking like he was up to it, even when she seemed excited about it, like she was on any other weekend. “I think I’ll pass” he said, hissing a bit as he nibbled on his pancake “Why is that a big deal again?” he asked, apparently not understanding what was the big deal with baseballing now.

She was never the sportsy kind of girl and the fact that she was going baseballing with her brother was kind of odd to hear because she would usually be the one to pass on anything that would involve physical activities. He supposed Joe was the exception on it. “Because he’s the worst in his baseball team and on that last game he had his coach said he wasn’t bad” She said, raising both hands dramatically “big deal” she signaled to then nod in his direction “What about you? Any plans for today?” she asked, with a quirky smile on her face. He smiled just a bit, showed her a bit of a smile and gazed on her direction “How did you know?” he asked, somehow expecting her to not know he actually had plans. To that she just rolled her eyes “You put out a record two weeks ago, of course you got things to do today” she said, like it was totally obvious even when it wasn’t, it was just the kind of things she has come to figure out through years of watching do the same thing over and over again. “So?” she asked, with some sort of intrigued tone.

He chuckled, shaking his head and looking down as he dug deep in his pocket. “Ugh, I don’t even know” he admitted, pulling out his phone from his back pocket and handing it in her direction without saying much. “Alright” she nodded, taking the device and sliding it her way, he didn’t even need to tell her what to do, she already knew.

With certain expertise, she grabbed his phone and typed down the password, getting immediate access to his home screen. She swiped her finger here and there until she found his pre-made agenda and opened it up, it was shining with so many colors and words, that could only mean one thing, he was very busy and there was no getting out of this one, hungover or not.

“Uh, you have an interview at two” she pointed out reading the content of the agenda out loud “Actually three of them, there’s a note that says Ben isn’t picking you up” she mentioned, literally reading the words plastered in there. “What a prick” he said, talking about his manager, that sometimes could be some sort of a prick, but there was no much he could do about it. She didn’t say much, she just kept going “You have a studio session at night and after that... nothing else” she finished, leaving his phone down, after checking for a second time if there was something else, but there wasn’t, that was it.

He groaned at the reminder of his duty for the day, leaned his head back and let out one heavy sigh. “Is it wrong to say I don’t want to go?” he said lazily, closing his eyes in annoyance. “It’s kind of part of your job” she shrugged, leaning forward to nudge his shoulder with her fist. Hopefully, it would wake him up a little bit. “I know that, but I don’t feel like doing promo” he admitted, showing up his teeth in one dramatic expression and shrugging. “Wow, this is weird” she said sarcastically trying to be funny about it make him light up “a rockstar refusing to go in front of the camera” she gasped, not meaning any part of her words. “It’s not that” he stopped her right away “You know? I love meeting my fans but sometimes I just wanna say” he starts, stopping himself for a second before mouthing “Hi! I really appreciate your support, but please don’t ask for my number, or put your hands on my abs for no reason, don’t get overly handsy, don’t ask about Petunia, and yes, I know my accent it’s weird, it made a natural evolution, please don’t act like it’s gone because it isn’t!” he exclaimed for all sudden, making her jump back a little at that sudden sound.

She guessed this was his way of drowning how much he didn’t want to work on this particular day. “You are really kind of a prick in the mornings” she chuckled, rolling her eyes “You love your fans” she said, almost as a reminder.

There was no way he could fight this one, so he just sighed deeply and mumbled “I do, I really do” he nodded, turning on her direction to then look at her, his big blue eyes opening up and saying with a clear begging tone “Come with me, please”

It was certainly one difficult petition, especially now. “I can’t” she denied immediately, shaking her head. “Please?” he begged, going to grab her hand one more time, but this time, just as a begging method. “I have to be with Joe” she argued, not really giving an excuse but stating a fact.

“Bring him in” he argued back, squeezing her hand and being extra annoying this time. “They don’t let kids on sets” she sighed, now becoming a bit irritated. “They will if I ask” he argued, being too sure about something he didn’t even know “please?” he begged one last time, trying his very best to convince here. “I don’t know about that” she said in a dry voice, pulling her hand away from his and going back to her food “I mean, I can drive you there if you want, I don’t mind doing an extra stop” she shrugged trying to bring the best solution she could but she knew for him that wouldn’t be enough.

He didn't seem to love that one, but he managed to deal with it.

He leaned back on his sit and accepted that she will not be with him through this day, took one big breathe in and said. “You are one difficult girl” he said and that was a fact.

She could only laugh “Sue me” she said, rolling her eyes “I would go if I could, but I can't” she said, speaking all of the truth.

She was not about to give up an afternoon baseballing with her brother to bring him on an interview, only gosh knew how boring those were, she wouldn’t make Joe go through the pain of those. Luke could whine all he wanted but it was simply not going to happen, she was not going to take her little brother to a closed room where all he could possibly do was sit down and stay quiet, he was seven, he wouldn’t know how to do that and that would for sure get them in trouble, she was not about to make him go through that just to please Luke; on a regular situation she would go without a question, because she didn’t mind to go there herself, but with a kid, it was just mission impossible.

Luke was clearly not pleased with her answer, he leaned both of his elbows on the table and rested his face on his hands, giving his mind a short rest and processing pretty much everything, there was a lot happening around him, he probably was having a headache about every single one of those things. So she let him have his moment. She kept eating in silence, letting him go back to his ‘normal’ self and give her one coherent answer or just say something to make her know they were alright, she knew he was a bit upset for not having her company on today's duties, but she had responsibilities too and she was going to make those happen, she had to.

“If I say we could go baseballing after all this, will you go?” He tried just one more time, pecking in between his fingers to look at her.

She hissed and shook her head immediately “I’m sorry Luke” she said and she meant it, there was nothing she could do about that.

He seemed to understand, at least at first, when he started to nod his head at her final words, but she felt bad, she felt like she was being a little mean to him even when she didn’t mean to or acted like so, he wanted her company outside inside of his job and she was denying to go even when he really wanted to, she felt bad for letting him down in this one, but she guessed he understood the reason why.

“I could possibly stop at yours when you’re done if you want” she offered, breaking her last piece pancake and putting in her mouth.

That one offer almost seemed like the last solution she could give and he seemed to agree to it in some way because his eyes lit up just a little and he gave her a small nod in agreement. “Deal” he said, dragging both of his hands along the perimeter of his face with a very annoying groan and letting the slide to the table counter, making its way to her hand back again and grabbing it with both hands before she could get up to wash her now empty plate. “You’re the best, did you know that?” he let her know, kissing the back of her hand. This kind of gestures from him made her feel extra weird and stressed, so she said nothing, she continued munching on her pancaked and gave him a quited “Mmm” sound as she got up and got out of his hold, it was too much for her, she didn’t want to have to deal with it for another time today.

So she got up from her seat without saying much and got to do the dishes, even when there were only three things to wash, this was something that for some reason took her mind of things and she needed a little bit of that right now. They stayed really quiet for a long time. Him, finishing his food and answering to old messages that have remained unanswered until now; Her, washing everything up and trying to bring to herself happy thoughts to get her head out of how he held her and how much it made her freak out, she was trying to get herself out of the possibility of becoming a total psycho, because freaking out over such dumb things was totally a psycho thing.

She took her time washing her plate and whatever remained dirty on her sink and once she finished, the moment she turned around was like crashing into a wall while at the same time getting a heart attack, because there he was, blocking her way and looking down at her, clearly wanting something from her. He was really becoming a specialist on scaring the shit out of her.

“You alright?” he asked innocently, clearly sensing there was something wrong with his friend. It took her a brief second to answer, she needed to stop being so awkard “Yeah” she nodded, trying to act natural “just thinking, I don’t know...” she shrugged, totally running out of words “None sense” she shook her head, waving it all away like it was nothing. He frowned, totally knowing something wasn’t right. “Tell me, I won’t judge you, you can tell me anything” He said, looking down at her and laying both hands on her shoulders.

Why did he keep touching her? God dammit. Didn’t he see it was freaking her out? Didn’t he noticed he drove her head over heels? “I know that” she assured him, quickly nodding “it’s nothing, there’s too much in my head, that’s all, no biggie” she quickly said, trying to really make it seem like she was cool, but she wasn’t.

Something must have given it away, because once she felt herself fidgeting, like she did all of those times where she was just… nervous, was the moment his hold became a bit stronger and now he was not only touching her but caressing her shoulders in one comforting move, he knew her so well, he knew she had something in her head and she would let her tell him whenever she felt ready, there was no rush, for her, he had all the patience in the world.

Again, he had no idea…

“Hey” he said in one comforting tone, catching her attention and making her look up at him “Come here” he commanded, extending his arms to both sides in an inviting move.

She found funny how he didn’t hug her right away, it was clearly a pure invitation. “Why?” she chuckled, trying to bring out her sarcastic self.

He chuckled, keeping his arms up and looked down at her weirdly “Haven’t you heard I’m a hug machine? A hug from mine can fix anything” he assured her with a big of a bragging tone “I have extra hugs for you, anytime” he let her know, raising his hands even more and waiting for her to do something.

She just couldn’t say no to that. It only took her a full second to take a step forward and hug him tight and close. He was right, somehow a hug from him was really making her feel a lot better. The way he wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back were comforting and she was really feeling a lot more calm about…everything.

That was the power he had over her. It worked wonders, even in the most stressful moments.

“Don’t you worry bout a thing” he said to her in a mumble “Dates go bad and that’s okay, you’ll find another one, easily” he said in confort, even when that was not the thing that was bugging her head at the moment. “Right” she mumbled, pressing her forehead against his chest. “You’re the best of the best of the best” he continued, leaning down and kissing her head “and I love you” To that, she smiled. He was so sweet to her, that was one of her favorite things about this boy. Maybe she wasn’t his significant one, but sometimes, he would make her feel just as special as one.

“Thanks Luke” she smiled, looking up at him “I love you too” “and you make the best pancakes in the world” he kept going, clearly making this one set of compliments. “They’re not bad” she chuckled, shrugging a bit. “And I am sorry for showing up drunk so late, it won’t happen again and I’m sorry” he finally let out, after a long time in what he’s been awake this morning “and I am sorry for drunk driving” he apologized for a second time “it was irresponsible and you have full permission to slap me if I do it again”

She had to laugh at that, she would never slap him, but she could see he was genuinely sorry about it and that’s what it counts. She was happy to see him recognize his mistakes. “That’s just what I wanted to hear” she nodded, laying her hand on his chest and palming it a couple of times. “Now, What do you do next time?” she said, just checking. “Wait for Crystal to get drunk and ask Michael for a ride” he repeated her previous words in a very monotone tone. “Good boy! you learn fast” she cheered with a small chuckled and palmed his chest one more time, a signal for him to step back, and he did.

As a price for his good understanding of what he should not do on drunk nights, she pushed the plate of remaining pancakes his way, to what he smiled and took without a question. She would usually store those for later, but he earned them, he could do whatever he wanted with those.

“Eat, would you?” she said, stepping away from him and to the exit of the kitchen “I’ll go look for your nice outfits, I think I have them stored around” she announced, already assuming he was not going to drive himself back home so early to get ready for work, he would much rather do that where he already is.

“Thank you” he mumbled, grabbing the plate and walking around her “You are the best person that has ever landed on the planet earth and I would never ever-”

“Yeah yeah” she stopped him in track, stepping out of the kitchen not waiting to hear more, not because she didn’t like it, but because she didn’t need it, it was a bit overwhelming for her to be around him right now. He had too much weight on her, he made her feel too much, he made her want to speak up even when that would ruin everything, she needed a quick break.

She left him on the kitchen eating his food and walked up to her bedroom, looking for at least a bit of privacy. Her mind was just a pure mess and for at least a second she just needed to calm down and figure out how to act cool about all of this, because each time he touched her she lost a bit of her sanity; each time he told her he loved her, she wished he would mean on the way she does and each time he lets her take care of him… are just the times where she wished she could just spit it all out and hope for the best, but she couldn’t, she was too scared of it and the scariest part is that she was about to burst.

It was like a ticking bomb, she could either explode and ruin it or turn it down, it was all on her.

She didn’t want to ruin what they had, that is just why she needs to forget and she prays to god that therapy helps her forget, because it’s been five years of this and she still freaks out each time he gets too handsy or lovable, it’s not like she doesn’t like, it’s just that she feels more than she should and she can’t do nothing about it… but the worst part is, she can’t do anything but she also can’t risk losing him in any way, this is something she needs to handle and forget.

She still has three days left for her first appointment, she can handle herself until then. All of the questions that remained bottled up in her head will soon be answered and solved, but the only one that mattered the most will always be on her to answer and she didn’t even know where to start.

How did she even manage to fall in love with the one person she shouldn't have?

#luke hemmings imagines #luke hemmings x reader #michael clifford imagines #calum hood imagines #ashton irwin imagines #5sos fanfiction #5sos fanfic #5sos blurbs #5sos preferences #5sos fake text #luke 5sos #luke hemmings au #5sos smut #5 seconds of summer imagines #5 seconds of summer preferences #5 seconds of summer blurbs #5 second of summer imagines

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ofsinnersandsaints · 5 years

Text

SOMEWHERE TO BELONG

rating: G (for now) word count total: 16,215 chapter: 3/4

ao3

modern au fluff including but not limited to: college!jester, fjord as the hot neighbor, caduceus and beau as the best roommates and jester fulling expecting to fall in love with the guy next door but not realizing it would feel quite like this

A couple of days had passed since Fjord had kissed Jester, and he felt like a damn high schooler, going over it again and again in his head when he was supposed to be doing half a dozen other things.

It seemed unreal to him he’d only known her for a week.

He should ask her out on a proper date, but the information-or lack there of-on his computer screen, was a stark reminder of why he’d held back in the first place.

The drowning, the ship going down, the shipmates who had died in the storm… they were only part of the nightmares and guilt which weighed on him.

The rest of it was Sabian, and Sabian was a ghost.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t an actual ghost as he was somewhere out there in the world not being held accountable for his part in the sinking of the ship they’d both worked on. Instead, he was a metaphorical ghost who had somehow managed to stay below the radar over the course of the past three years.

He should just suck it up and hire a private investigator, but he hesitated to tell anyone about what he’d lived through. About what he suspected. Because what if he was wrong? What if the water in his lungs and lack of oxygen had made him hallucinate and Sabian hadn’t actually jumped off the ship seconds before it exploded?

The vibrating phone was a welcome distraction from the whirlpool of his thoughts, and the smile when he saw who was calling him was instantaneous.

“Hey, Jester.”

“Hey, Fjord.”

He leaned back in his chair and spun it so he was facing away from the computer. He didn’t want the idea of Jester mixed up in the memory of that day. “What can I do ya for?”

“I was wondering if you could take me to the airport?”

Fjord knew she wasn’t running away or leaving town, but his stomach dropped at the question, imagining for a moment his life without her.

Eight days, he reminded himself, he’d only known her for eight days.

“Yeah, of course. Is everything okay?”

“My mom needs me.”

She sounded like she was trying not to cry, “Of course I’ll drive you. When do you head out?”

“Now,” she answered with a sniffle. “I chartered a plane and it’s fueling up now.”

Chartered a plane, he thought with a mental shake of his head. They had very different lives. “I’ll put my shoes on and be over in a minute.”

“Thanks, Fjord.”

“Anytime,” he promised her and hung up. Fjord grabbed his keys and wallet, put his phone in his pocket and started up his truck. When he pulled into Jester’s driveway she was already outside, a bright pink carry-on sitting on the steps next to her.

She stood up and reached for the bag but Fjord was already getting out of the cab of the truck. “I got it, Jester.”

For a moment he thought she was going to argue but then she nodded. “Thanks.”

“Is everything okay?” he asked as he picked up the suitcase, putting it in the back of the cab of the truck. “Is your mama sick?”

Jester climbed onto the bench seat with a heavy sigh. “She’s okay, she just needs to see me.”

Fjord had eight million questions he wanted to ask but kept them to himself. “I assume chartered planes aren’t at the normal airport?”

“No, but I’ve got directions on my phone.” Her smile was genuine, if a little sad, “I’ll be your navigator.”

He debated with himself for all of a second before reaching across the beat up leather and linking his fingers with hers. She held on tight. “When I was under water, it was so dark I couldn’t see which way was up. But I remembered my mentor, Vandran, told me once that if I ever got disoriented under water to not swim. If you let yourself, you’ll float up in the right direction. There was a huge ass storm going on the surface though, the winds were taller than I’d ever see them and every time I got half a breath I’d be pushed under again.”

The memories were so close to the surface he felt his chest tighten, but he kept his eyes on the road as he drove them to the outskirts of town where the private airfield was. “There was water everywhere, so even when I was breathing air it felt like I was drowning. When I have nightmares, when I’m not completely convinced I’m not underwater I go outside because that night, there weren’t any stars. Just rain and waves. I stare at the stars until I can breathe again.”

At the stoplight he looked over at her to see her watching him with wide eyes. “Why did you tell me that?”

“Secret for a secret,” he told her gently. “If you want to share.”

Her shoulders lowered as if someone had just taken a weight off of them. “I didn’t want to go to college but Mama wanted me to get a degree, so the compromise was I’d go to college, but it would be out of state so I could get some independence. It’s been a couple of years now, but the distance hasn’t gotten any easier for her. Sometimes she gets these… moods, I guess? Like a panic attack. She has to see me or she works herself up. She hyperventilated once and the paramedics were called, she woke up in the hospital terrified.”

“Cause she doesn’t like to leave the house,” he remembered.

Jester nodded, holding their linked hands in her lap, her free hand tracing the tiny scars on his knuckles from years of working on a fishing boat. “The best thing to do is just go see her, and flying is quickest, only a couple of hours each way. After a day or two I can usually come back.”

He squeezed her hand once. “I’m sorry, Jester. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

“The drive is more than enough,” she assured him. “Beau and Cad are both in class.”

He pulled down the paved road which would lead to the plane hangar. “If you need someone to pick you up when you come back, call me.”

“You’re a really good guy, Fjord.”

“Not really,” he corrected as he parked. “But you’re worth being a good guy for. I’ll get your suitcase.”

Fjord got out of the truck and got her luggage, walking around the hood of the car to where Jester stood in a t-shirt and a soft looking skirt. “Can I have a hug?”

He smiled at the question, setting the suitcase on the ground, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Her hands clung to the back of his shirt as she pressed her cheek into his chest, and he tightened his hold on her, knowing how important an anchor was in a storm.

“Call me when you land? So I know you got there safe?”

She nodded, her face still pressed against the cotton of his shirt. “I’m going to let go of you in a minute, I promise.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “I ain’t in any kind of rush, Jester. You hold on as long as you need.”

She pulled back then, a little glint in her eyes that hinted at the mischief she was capable of. “Be careful what you say, Fjord, I may take you up on it.”

His thumb brushed along the curve of her cheek. “I’m not worried. Promise you’ll call me.”

“I promise,” and she dropped her arms from around him and he kind of missed having her so close. “Thanks again, Fjord.”

“For you? Anytime.”

She kissed him on the cheek then picked up her suitcase and walked towards the plane, the stairs already in place to let her get on.

As he watched, the wind picked up and pulled at her skirts; he thought she looked like something out of movie.

Damn it, he should have kissed her goodbye.

Jested loved her mother more than anything. Marion Lavorre had given her daughter everything, had loved her unconditionally, but as Jester had gotten older what her mother wanted, and what Jester needed, were at odds.

Her mother wanted to keep her close, keep her safe, but Jester wanted to take risks and get lost and learn things the hard way.

The distance had been a blessing for Jester, but she knew it was extremely difficult for her mother, which was why she was willing to drop everything to come home when her mother needed her.

Sitting on the porch, she sketched out an ocean scene as the moon watched from its place in the sky. And as if she’d conjured him with charcoal and paper, her phone lit up with a text message.

It was a picture from Fjord.

The photo was from his side of the yard, looking into hers, and she could see Beau balanced on one leg as Caduceus was focused in his garden, the evening light casting a soft glow on the world and her friends.

He’d sent her a little piece of home.

She called him before she could talk herself out of it. “How did you know exactly what I needed?” she asked before he had the chance to say hello.

“I’m a mind reader,” he teased. “Though I have to admit, there was a little part of me that felt creepy taking a picture of them from my backyard.”

Jester laughed. “Yeah, I wouldn’t do that with anyone else in the neighborhood. They might call the cops on you.”

They were quiet for a moment before Fjord’s voice rumbled through the phone. “Are the skies clear where you’re at?”

“Not a cloud for miles.”

“Here too.”

Same moon, she realized. He was outside, same as her, and they were looking up at the same sky. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“Just a little one,” he admitted after a moment. “But it was hot today and the garage is too stuffy to work in right now so I’ve got a beer and a lounge chair.”

“Kool-aid and a sketchbook for me,” she said. “I’m hoping to be back Thursday.”

“Two days,” he said and she liked that he sounded a little despondent at the news.

“Today’s practically over,” she corrected. “And I’ll come back in the afternoon, so it’s only a day.”

He made a small humming noise, “Is your mama doing better?”

“Yeah. She’s been telling me about the autobiography, she’s got some wild stories.”

“I imagine not all of them are stories a daughter wants to hear about her mother.”

Jester laughed, “A few.”

She heard the shifting of movement on his end of the line and then a heavy sigh. “Fuck, Jester. I miss you.”

She laughed again even as her heart grew and thumped heavily in her chest. “Don’t sound too excited about it.”

“I don’t know what to do with it,” he admitted. “Honest to god, I wasn’t expecting you.”

“You don’t have to do anything with it,” she assured him even though she had a couple of ideas. Only a few of them were salacious. “And I’m not in any kind of rush. Just tell me if you’re going to come to my party on Saturday.”

“Uh,” he started and she laughed at how obvious he was, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse.

“It’ll be fun,” she assured him. “But if you don’t want to come, I understand.”

“Jester?” a voice called from the behind her. Looking over her shoulder, Jester saw her mother standing a few feet inside the house in a pretty silk robe. “Who are you talking to?”

“A friend,” Jester evaded, turning her attention back to the man on the phone. “I have to go, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye, Jessie.”

“Bye, Fjord.”

Jester hung up the phone and shut her sketch book. “Mama, what are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I was talking to my friend,” she evaded. “He’s up at all hours of the night.”

“What kind of friend?” her mom asked, a knowing lilt to her voice.

“A good one,” Jester answered. “One I’m hoping to date.”

“Oh.”

“What are you doing up?” she asked as she got up and walked into the house, shutting the door behind her and locking it.

“I was thirsty, then I heard voices and wanted to see what was going on. Is he a good man?”

Jester remembered what he’d said at the airport, about trying to be one. And only a good man, she thought, would worry about being a good man. “He is.”

“You should bring him home, next time you come back.”

They weren’t anywhere near that place, Jester thought, but she appreciated her mother wanted to meet the man she liked. “I’ll keep that in mind. In the meantime, I think we should both get some sleep.”

Fjord walked across the front yard to the small party gathering at his neighbor’s house; the guests were mostly people in their early 20s, carefree and laughing.

As a man who was nearing thirty and had the weight of an ocean on his shoulders, he felt wildly out of place.

But Jester had personally asked him to come over, so he could suck it up and spend an hour in her world. And because Beau had insisted on picking Jester up, he hadn’t seen her since he’d dropped her off at the airport a couple days ago.

There were at least three dozen people in the house and spilling into the backyard. The first person he recognized was Beau who moved through the crowd like a rock being thrown into a stream. Everyone moved out of her way.

“You came,” he liked that she didn’t sound surprised or anything. It was just a statement of fact. “Want a beer?”

Fjord looked around the house and could practically feel the hormones in the air. “You got anything stronger?”

Her grin was sharp, but friendly despite it. “You speak my language. Come on back, I’ve got a shit ton of options. You work on that boat some more?”

“I do a little bit every day,” he answered and recognized the song playing from the speakers in another room as something he often played in the garage. “Whose playlist is this?”

“Jester’s.” Beau walked up to the counter and pushed someone out of the way so she could reach for the cups and started pouring ingredients into it. “I’ve been told my taste in music sucks and Caduceus’ makes everyone want to take a nap. Here.”

Fjord looked down at the cup. “What is this?”

“A Punch in the Face,” she told him. “It’s my own creation and it’s pretty fucking good, if I do say so myself.”

He took a hesitant sip and it was good, but it also had enough liquor in it to stop an elephant. “Holy shit.”

“And that’s the punch in the face,” she smiled, obviously proud of herself. “Jester’s in the back. Try not to stare.”

“Huh?”

Beau just patted him on the shoulder and walked away.

Baffled, Fjord walked out of the back door and stood on the porch to look for Jester in the small crowd of people.

It took all of a second to find her and Fjord immediately understood Beau’s warning.

He’d seen her in sweats, sundresses, and a bikini, but there was something about the skin tight dress which whispered sex; dark blue and curve hugging, it matched the color of her hair and dipped low to show an enticing amount of cleavage.

She could have been standing in the middle of the yard naked, and it wouldn’t have been half as sexy.

For a second he couldn’t breathe, then she looked at him and her eyes lit up, he’d have sworn it, and he remembered this feeling from his days on the water. At some point you just realized you were along for the ride and he could either go with it or fight it.

And Jester, with the blue hair and ample curves, was a wave he was happy to ride out.

She made excuses to the man with dark red hair that she’d been talking to and walked over to him. “You made it!”

“I couldn’t come up with an excuse that didn’t sound like bullshit,” he confessed and reached out to hug her. Her arms tightened around his waist for a moment before she pulled back, but she didn’t step out his embrace completely as she looked up at him.

“It’s hard to say you can’t make it when you can see the party from your backyard.” She sniffed the cup Fjord held in his hand and winced. “Good thing you don’t have to drive home.”

“I think Beau’s trying to get me drunk.”

“Probably,” Jester agreed, taking his hand in one of hers. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to a few people.”

She took him back over to the group; the guy she’d been talking to was a little disheveled with a couple weeks’ worth of stubble on his jaw, his shirt was at least two sizes too big and even though he was at a party his backpack was on the ground at his feet. The woman next to him was short, green streaks in her dark hair. Age undetermined.

“Caleb, Nott, this is my neighbor Fjord. He’s a ship-builder. Caleb and Nott were in one of my classes last term.”

Fjord shook each of their hands, “Nice to meet you both.”

“You build ships?” Caleb asked, his voice a lilting accent Fjord didn’t immediately recognize.

“No,” he admitted and tried not to focus on the fact Jester was still holding his hand and that Caleb kept glancing down at them. “Jester’s just being kind, I’m building a boat in my garage. I’m formerly a fisherman.”

“Like on TV?” Nott asked, excitement making her voice raise a few pitches at the end of the question.

“Something like that.”

“Nott is going to be a private investigator.”

Fjord was surprised at the news and tried not to seem too interested in the information. “No shit? Like in the movies?”

“Something like that,” she grinned. “I’m pretty good at it.”

“Nott takes a lot of pictures of people doing it,” Jester added helpfully and Fjord nearly spit out his drink. She looked extremely proud of herself.

“Cheaters pay the bills,” Nott agreed sagely. “And people are into kinky shit.”

“Nott,” Caleb scolded. “Perhaps this is not the right place?”

“Where is the right place?” Nott challenged. “I do other stuff too, background checks, finding biological parents, that kind of thing. It’s never dull.”

“You find people?”

“I do.”

Fjord had a dozen questions he wanted to ask: how long did it usually take? How much did it cost? What if the person didn’t want to be found? But instead of asking them he smiled, “You’re probably not a good person to piss off.”

“I’m really not. No secrets can be hidden from me.” Nott’s smile was sharp and a little devious as she leaned forward. “So, what are your secrets?”

“I sold my soul to a sea god in order to survive a shipwreck,” Fjord deadpanned and Jester laughed, Nott reluctantly smiled and their friend Caleb chuckled.

“Yo! Fjord!” Beau yelled and Fjord turned to see her standing on the porch. “How are you at a beer pong?”

“Better on a boat, but I can hold my own.”

“You’re on my team,” she announced and turned around and walked back into the house.

Fjord watched her, amused, “Does she usually just boss people around?”

“Yes,” Jester answered with a smile. “It’s her way of saying she likes you.”

“Sure it is. I guess I’m playing beer pong.”

Considering the party had been thrown together last minute, it was pretty good party if Jester did say so herself. Between her and her roommates they knew a wide range of people from jocks to gardeners, but they all got along. The alcohol probably helped, she thought wryly as she listened to two people from her history class complain about their professor.

While they debated whether it would be better to TP the professor’s car or glue the doors shut Jester felt a touch on her elbow and before she looked, she knew it was Fjord. “Hey, I just wanted to thank you for inviting me.”

“Are you heading out?”

“Yeah.”

Stay, she thought immediately, and wondered at how intense the feeling was. Jester hopped off the table, hoping what she felt didn’t show on her face. “I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to-“

She shook her head, not letting him finish the sentence. “I insist, it’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”

He smiled at her and nodded. “Who am I to say no to a gentleman?”

“Let me just text Beau,” she picked up her phone and let Beau know where she was going and then dropped the cell in a kitchen drawer. “So she doesn’t bug me with questions.”

“If I was going to murder you, this would be the perfect time.”

“Right after I told her I was leaving the house with you?” she asked with a shake of her head, disappointed. “You’d make a terrible murderer, Fjord.”

“Well, I guess there are worst things to fail at.”

“Good point,” she grabbed his hand because he hadn’t seemed to mind it earlier when she’d done it. She liked the feel of it, his palm and fingers were rough with callouses, warm against her skin. Leading him out the front door, she stepped into the humid night, the stars dim above them.

“Thanks again, for coming tonight.”

“I enjoyed it.”

Jester smiled, bumping her hip against his. “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

His mouth curved in a grin. “I like your roommates, and I liked Yasha.”

“Oh!” Jester hadn’t seen Yasha at the house, but the woman was known for sneaking in and out of places. Hopefully she’d still be there when Jester got back. “What did you think of her?”

“That woman could kick my ass.”

He sounded impressed which the proper response to meeting Yasha. “Beau is super into her.”

“I’m not looking to hit on her,” he told her, and there was a careful note to the words, a slight pressure on her hand from his which made Jester’s heart glow behind her ribs.

“Cool.”

They walked in silence and Jester wondered about the front door and what would happen when they got there. If this had been a real date, she’d kiss him at the end of it, but this wasn’t a real date.

He’d just come over to meet her friends, drink, and hang out with her.

But he’d admitting to missing her while she was gone.

Was every relationship this difficult? she wondered, or were they just bad at it? If her mother hadn’t been so protective, maybe she’d have more experience with this kind of thing and she wouldn’t be second guessing herself at every turn.

If, should-of, would-of… they weren’t going to do her a lot of good in the here and now.

“I started your painting this morning.”

“Oh yeah?” he looked pleased and a little bashful. “How long does it usually take for you to paint something?”

“Not as long as it takes to build a boat,” she teased as they walked across his yard. “Mostly it depends on the painting. Does it have a lot of detail? Lots of colors? I’d get a lot more done if I didn’t have to go to school.”

“Have you given any more thought to sticking it out?”

“Yeah, I’m going to stay.” He stopped in front of his porch but she went up the steps and turned so she was almost eye to eye with him. “If I dropped out, my mama would want me to come back home and I don’t want to leave.”

Didn’t want to leave her house, her independence, this porch where she could just barely smell the aftershave Fjord must have put on before coming over.

“Are you going to kiss me again, Fjord?”

He wasn’t even a little bit surprised by the question. Jester was the kind of person who took what she wanted, or asked for it as the case may be. And damn him if he hadn’t been considering it the whole walk over.

“I’m thinking about it,” he finally answered.

She tilted her head, blue hair touching her cheek the way he wanted to. “What’s stopping you?”

Fjord sighed and tucked his hands in his pockets. “I’m a hell of a mess, Jester. I don’t want to invite all my shit on you.”

Her smile was soft and warm and he thought he could live by it for the rest of his life and the thought terrified him because of how much he wanted it. “I invited myself over, Fjord.”

She took a step down so she was a little bit closer and he felt his stomach drop; it reminded him of when the ship would crest on a wave and dip down suddenly. It was an addicting kind of rush a person never quite got used to.

Jester put one hand on the side of his face and he wondered if maybe she was going to take the matter out of his hands and kiss him herself. Instead she only pressed her lips to his cheek, the touch lingering for a full second and a half before pulling back.

“But I don’t want to push, so just know I’m here whenever you want to find me.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist, keeping her close and knew he was ten kinds of stupid for not kissing her. She felt good against him, she felt right and he felt right, but there was still that dark fear so deeply rooted inside him he didn’t know how to get rid of it.

“You know it’s not you, right, Jester? There’s not a damn thing wrong with you.”

She rested her hands on his shoulders, her fingers brushing the fabric smooth. “There’s plenty wrong with me,” she argued cheerfully. “Just like there’s plenty wrong with you. That shouldn’t stop you from trying to be happy with the things that are right. And this is right, Fjord. You know that, don’t you?”

He loved how certain she was. “Yeah, I’m starting to figure it out.”

“Well, when you get the rest of the way there you know where I am. I should probably get home and make sure the house is still standing. Caleb has been known to start fires when he drinks too much and Beau thinks it’s too cool to try and stop it.”

He smiled, easily picturing it. “Good night, Jester.”

“Good night, Fjord.”

Fjord finally let her go, then watched her walk into the darkness and wondered how many different kinds of stupid one man can be.

Jester couldn’t sleep.

Normally, this wasn’t a problem. Normally, she’d paint or sketch until she could finally pass out, but she felt too restless in her own skin. If she was at her mother’s house she’d go swimming in the big pool out back, but they blowup kiddie pool in her backyard wouldn’t do her much good.

Making a quick decision she grabbed her phone and walked next door, figuring there was a better than good chance Fjord was up as well.

She wouldn’t say they’d been avoiding each other, but ever since Saturday Jester had made a point to give Fjord some space. He’d texted her over the course of the past few days, sending her pictures he’d taken and she had complained to him about finals coming up.

But they hadn’t spent any time alone.

Jester didn’t completely trust herself not to jump him, but at one am there weren’t a lot of options for company.

She knocked on the doorframe, smiling when she saw Fjord pop up from behind the boat. “Hey.”

“Hi, do you mind if I hang out?”

“Not at all. Everything okay?”

“I’m antsy,” she admitted with a shrug. “Couldn’t sleep. You’ve gotten a lot done.”

The boat had more shape to it now, it looked like some kind of seal had been added and the smell in the air was pungent. “You’re going to get high off these fumes, Fjord.”

He grinned. “There’s a good chance I already am. I’ve been at this for a bit.”

“Oh.” She looked around the garage, not sure what to look at it. “If you’re done, I can just-“

“Want to watch a movie?” he asked.

Her gaze swung to him and there was understanding in his eyes, in the softness of his expression. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Do you have a preference?”

“Have you seen Princess Bride?”

“Who hasn’t? I’ll make some popcorn, do you mind shutting the door so animals don’t get in?”

She shut the door and then promptly opened the window before following him inside the house. Jester sat on the table as he rummaged through the cabinets and eventually pulled out a box of popcorn, sticking it in the microwave.

“Thirsty?” he asked, reaching into the fridge.

“Sure, if you’ve got-“ she stopped when he pulled out a pitcher of a bright red drink. “You made Kool-Aid?”

She saw a little bit of a blush on his cheeks. “I didn’t know what flavor you liked.”

“I like all the flavors,” she assured him, touched he’d cared enough to not only buy Kool-Aid, but that he’d made it on the off chance she might come by. It was hardly the most romantic thing anyone had ever done, but her poor little heart tripped and fell half in the love with him anyway.

She took the cup he offered and watched as he got himself a soda from the fridge as the microwave beeped. “This is my best talent,” he told her seriously as he opened the door. “I never burn popcorn.”

Jester laughed as he shook the bag and she could hear how many kernels had popped, “That’s the best superpower.”

“It’s handy,” he took his soda and the popcorn and she followed him into the living room. He sat at the end of couch and Jester sat directly next to him, close enough their hips touched. “Will you grab the remote?”

She reached forward and traded the popcorn for the remote control, “My mama calls it a clicker.”

“No offense to your mama, but that’s dumb.”

Jester laughed and rested against him; unable to help the smile as he shifted next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He turned on the tv and then flipped through to a steaming site where he found Princess Bride available.

“How long has it been since you’ve watched this movie?” she asked as she reached into the popcorn bag.

“Couple of years,” he answered as he shifted on the couch to get more comfortable. “I remember rodents of extraordinary size. And of course Inigo Montoya.”

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes as the movie started, and Jester felt the nervousness begin to ease with the slow breathing of Fjord next to her, his arm around her. She felt safe.

“Thanks for letting me hang out, Fjord.”

“Yeah, sitting with a beautiful woman in the middle of the night watching a movie and eating popcorn is a huge hassle.”

She laughed and snuggled closer to him; he may not be ready for the dating or whatever, but he seemed to be okay with this, so for now she’d take it. After all, it couldn’t hurt to show them how good they’d be together, could it?

“Did something in particular happen?” he asked quietly.

“No,” she sighed, keeping her eyes on the tv. “I think my brain is just too full.”

“I get that. If you need anything else, you’ll let me know?”

She shifted so she could look at him, meeting his eyes in the flickering light from the television. “Right now, this is all I need.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his lips quirking in a little smile. “I’m starting to think the same.”

Jester smiled, understanding what he was saying. She curled her legs underneath her, wrapping her own arms around his middle so she could rest against him. “This is my favorite movie all time.”

She felt the rumble of his laughter in his chest. “I’m not even a little bit surprised.”

“What’s your favorite movie?”

“Independence Day,” he answered without hesitating.

“I never would have guessed that.”

Jester felt him shrug. “How can you go wrong with Will Smith and Jeff Goldblum?”

“Fair point. We can watch that movie next.”

“You’re not going to want to go home?” he asked, a little bit surprised.

“I’m good here. Unless you want to go to bed after this movie’s done.”

“Nah, I can sleep later.”

“I want you to know this doesn’t count as a date.”

Fjord laughed, big and loud and it made Jester smile. “Duly noted.”

She moved again so she could look at him. “When we go on a date, I expect you to pick me up-"

"I'm a good 'ole boy," he reminded her, soundly a little offended. "Of course I'd pick a lady up at her door."

She smiled and accept the point with a nod, but continued talking as if he hadn't interrupted her. "And take me out to a place with really good food, and I expect dessert afterwards.”

“Dessert?” he asked, his voice low and all kinds of suggestive.

It was Jester’s turn to blush, but she was certain he wouldn’t be able to see in the dark room. “Ice cream,” she clarified, forcing herself not to look away. “Cake. Pie. I’d settle for really good chocolate. Then sex.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying her. “It’s good to know you have your priorities in order.”

“Sweets always come before sex,” she told him earnestly. “Now, no more talking, I’m trying to watch a movie.”

Fjord snorted and took the popcorn bag from her. “I’ll start it over so you can enjoy it properly.”

“You really get me,” she grinned and settled in to spend the rest of the night with the guy she was pretty sure she was going to marry someday.

If only he would get around to kissing her again.

#fjorester #fjord #jester #critical role #critical role fic

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wemadeacrosswhereourshadowsmet · 5 years

Text

David Berman - Self-Portrait at 28

I know it's a bad title but I'm giving it to myself as a gift on a day nearly canceled by sunlight when the entire hill is approaching the ideal of Virginia brochured with goldenrod and loblolly and I think "at least I have not woken up with a bloody knife in my hand" by then having absently wandered one hundred yards from the house while still seated in this chair with my eyes closed. It is a certain hill the one I imagine when I hear the word "hill" and if the apocalypse turns out to be a world-wide nervous breakdown if our five billion minds collapse at once well I'd call that a surprise ending and this hill would still be beautiful a place I wouldn't mind dying alone or with you. I am trying to get at something and I want to talk very plainly to you so that we are both comforted by the honesty. You see there is a window by my desk I stare out when I am stuck though the outdoors has rarely inspired me to write and I don't know why I keep staring at it. My childhood hasn't made good material either mostly being a mulch of white minutes with a few stand out moments, popping tar bubbles on the driveway in the summer a certain amount of pride at school everytime they called it "our sun" and playing football when the only play was "go out long" are what stand out now. If squeezed for more information I can remember old clock radios with flipping metal numbers and an entree called Surf and Turf. As a way of getting in touch with my origins every night I set the alarm clock for the time I was born so that waking up becomes a historical reenactment and the first thing I do is take a reading of the day and try to flow with it like when you're riding a mechanical bull and you strain to learn the pattern quickly so you don't inadverantly resist it. II two I can't remember being born and no one else can remember it either even the doctor who I met years later at a cocktail party. It's one of the little disappointments that makes you think about getting away going to Holly Springs or Coral Gables and taking a room on the square with a landlady whose hands are scored by disinfectant, telling the people you meet that you are from Alaska, and listen to what they have to say about Alaska until you have learned much more about Alaska than you ever will about Holly Springs or Coral Gables. Sometimes I am buying a newspaper in a strange city and think "I am about to learn what it's like to live here." Oftentimes there is a news item about the complaints of homeowners who live beside the airport and I realize that I read an article on this subject nearly once a year and always receive the same image. I am in bed late at night in my house near the airport listening to the jets fly overhead a strange wife sleeping beside me. In my mind, the bedroom is an amalgamation of various cold medicine commercial sets (there is always a box of tissue on the nightstand). I know these recurring news articles are clues, flaws in the design though I haven't figured out how to string them together yet, but I've begun to notice that the same people are dying over and over again, for instance Minnie Pearl who died this year for the fourth time in four years. III three Today is the first day of Lent and once again I'm not really sure what it is. How many more years will I let pass before I take the trouble to ask someone? It reminds of this morning when you were getting ready for work. I was sitting by the space heater numbly watching you dress and when you asked why I never wear a robe I had so many good reasons I didn't know where to begin. If you were cool in high school you didn't ask too many questions. You could tell who'd been to last night's big metal concert by the new t-shirts in the hallway. You didn't have to ask and that's what cool was: the ability to deduct to know without asking. And the pressure to simulate coolness means not asking when you don't know, which is why kids grow ever more stupid. A yearbook's endpages, filled with promises to stay in touch, stand as proof of the uselessness of a teenager's promise. Not like I'm dying for a letter from the class stoner ten years on but... Do you remember the way the girls would call out "love you!" conveniently leaving out the "I" as if they didn't want to commit to their own declarations. I agree that the "I" is a pretty heavy concept and hope you won't get uncomfortable if I should go into some deeper stuff here. IV four There are things I've given up on like recording funny answering machine messages. It's part of growing older and the human race as a group has matured along the same lines. It seems our comedy dates the quickest. If you laugh out loud at Shakespeare's jokes I hope you won't be insulted if I say you're trying too hard. Even sketches from the original Saturday Night Live seem slow-witted and obvious now. It's just that our advances are irrepressible. Nowadays little kids can't even set up lemonade stands. It makes people too self-conscious about the past, though try explaining that to a kid. I'm not saying it should be this way. All this new technology will eventually give us new feelings that will never completely displace the old ones leaving everyone feeling quite nervous and split in two. We will travel to Mars even as folks on Earth are still ripping open potato chip bags with their teeth. Why? I don't have the time or intelligence to make all the connections like my friend Gordon (this is a true story) who grew up in Braintree Massachusetts and had never pictured a brain snagged in a tree until I brought it up. He'd never broken the name down to its parts. By then it was too late. He had moved to Coral Gables. V five The hill out my window is still looking beautiful suffused in a kind of gold national park light and it seems to say, I'm sorry the world could not possibly use another poem about Orpheus but I'm available if you're not working on a self-portrait or anything. I'm watching my dog have nightmares, twitching and whining on the office floor and I try to imagine what beast has cornered him in the meadow where his dreams are set. I'm just letting the day be what it is: a place for a large number of things to gather and interact -- not even a place but an occasion a reality for real things. Friends warned me not to get too psychedelic or religious with this piece: "They won't accept it if it's too psychedelic or religious," but these are valid topics and I'm the one with the dog twitching on the floor possibly dreaming of me that part of me that would beat a dog for no good reason no reason that a dog could see. I am trying to get at something so simple that I have to talk plainly so the words don't disfigure it and if it turns out that what I say is untrue then at least let it be harmless like a leaky boat in the reeds that is bothering no one. VI six I can't trust the accuracy of my own memories, many of them having blended with sentimental telephone and margarine commercials plainly ruined by Madison Avenue though no one seems to call the advertising world "Madison Avenue" anymore. Have they moved? Let's get an update on this. But first I have some business to take care of. I walked out to the hill behind our house which looks positively Alaskan today and it would be easier to explain this if I had a picture to show you but I was with our young dog and he was running through the tall grass like running through the tall grass is all of life together until a bird calls or he finds a beer can and that thing fills all the space in his head. You see, his mind can only hold one thought at a time and when he finally hears me call his name he looks up and cocks his head and for a single moment my voice is everything: Self-portrait at 28.

#david berman #poem

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silenceindetroit · 6 years

Text

The Meaning of Silence - The Question (Part 12)

I apologize in advance if the keep reading break doesn’t work, as this is a bit long. Author notes at the end. Read here or on Ao3

The sound of the pencil against the thick, uneven paper in Markus' notebook was faint, almost nonexistent amidst the noise from the other rooms. Not that he minded—it gave him the cover to work unnoticed, which he preferred.

It had been such a spur-of-the-moment urge that he'd been lucky to have anything to draw with on him in the first place. He didn't normally even bring his art supplies out of the house. It had been a habit he'd been trying to implement recently; capture inspiration where and when it struck. He shouldn't have been surprised what the first moment was when it came, if he was being honest with himself.

His lips pressed into a firm line as his eyes flickered over the page, trying to calculate where to lay the next few pencil strokes. It was an outline really, nothing more. He would fill in the rest later when he had time. But the moment had been too clear to pass up, almost frozen, as if it was waiting for him until he gave the universe some sort of confirmation that he'd gotten what he wanted out of it.

Mouth, he decided.

He glanced up from the page, back to his inspiration's focus. Connor's eyes were still half-lidded, caught up in running his fingers over the thick forehead of a grey pitbull, where she had wedged her face between his knees, looking up with the same wide eyes Markus had seen Connor use many times before. Her thick paddle of a tail hadn't stopped wagging since Connor had started talking to her in a low voice. Even now, Markus could see his lips moving ever so slightly, but the murmur was almost inaudible, lost in the noises outside their door. Parted slightly. Full and defined.

“Markus?”

His attention snapped up, internal fans whirring. Connor's eyes were on him now, noticing the notebook for the first time. He shut it hurriedly. “Yes?”

The wrinkles between Connor's eyes grew prominent as his brow creased. “I think I love her,” he announced. The pitbull's tail sped up at the change in his voice. She pressed her nose further forward, jowls tugging back where they rubbed against his jeans and bunching at the sides of her snout.

Markus couldn't help but let out a laugh. “What would Hank say?” he asked.

“No more pets,” Connor quoted, with more than a hint of disappointment. He turned back to the pitbull and took an ear in each hand. “But she's so sweet,” he added, rubbing them gently. “And she really needs a home.”

Something fluttered in Markus' chest—whether it was his processors or his heart, he wasn't sure—at the way Connor's words lilted, filled with concern and wistfulness. He slid the pencil into the spine of the notebook and set his hand on the cover. “Do you want to keep coming to visit her until she does?” he offered.

“Can we?”

“Of course.”

Connor's shoulders fell an inch with relief. He leaned forward, a hand on either side of the pitbull's square head now, and pressed his forehead against hers. “You hear that?” he asked her quietly. “We'll come to see you until you find a home. So you won't be lonely.” Her nose pressed upward to try and lick his chin, tail speeding up again at the new contact.

Markus' hand twitched against the notebook, fighting the urge to open it back up. Even if he did, there wasn't time to finish in the few minutes before the shelter closed. He made a mental note to go back over the memory later. For artistic purposes.

“Connor?” he spoke up gently. “They'll be locking up soon. We should head out.”

“Okay.” Connor's eyes shut, as if he were trying to imprint a thought into the pitbull's mind through their connected foreheads. “We'll be back, okay?” he assured her one last time, before planting a kiss between her eyes and straightening to his feet. He turned back to Markus, waiting until the other android rose to meet him. “Thank you for the date,” he added as they made their way through the glass door that separated them from the hallway.

Markus gave him a cheeky smile. “Oh, was it a date?” he asked innocently. His fingers reached across the empty space between them, hooking with Connor's as they walked. “I hadn't realized.”

Connor's gaze flickered back over his shoulder, to the door they'd come through. “You really think she'll find a home?”

“I'm sure of it. She's one of the sweetest dogs I've ever met.”

“Next to Sumo.”

Markus gave a low chuckle as he stepped forward to push the front door open for them. “Next to Sumo,” he agreed.

The afternoon sun that greeted them was blinding, flooding the street gold, reflecting harshly in the windows of buildings. Connor squinted as his retinas adjusted from the fluorescent lights they'd been under in the animal shelter. The traffic on the main street was growing relatively heavy, the open tab in his head told him. His brow furrowed as several calculations suggested the quickest routes. It was easier to set a pickup location on a side street and meet a ride there, than have it come to them through the worst of the traffic.

Markus shifted beside him in the stillness. “Well,” he offered, “anything else you'd like to do?”

Connor closed his eyes, exiting out of the maps suggestions. When he opened them again he took a single step down the stairs and turned back to Markus. His internal fans hiccuped at the way the light caught in the other android's eyelashes. “It was a lovely date,” he said in the most even voice he could manage, holding up Markus' hand as if he might kiss it. “But now it's my turn.”

Markus gave a laugh at the over-exaggerated gesture. “What do you mean?”

Connor grinned and shook his head. “Follow me.” He gave the other android's hand a gentle tug, coaxing him down to the sidewalk before setting off, picking up the pace. “If we're fast we might be able to catch the sunset,” he added as they half-walked, half-jogged the length of the pavement.

“Catch it from where?” Markus pressed.

“You'll see.”

-----

The drive down the side streets took an extra ten minutes for them to reach their destination, but compared to the risk of getting stuck in worse traffic, it was worth the loss. Connor's eyes flickered out the window every so often, gauging the time by the brightness of the sunlight over each street. His comment to Markus had been a hint exaggerated—they had plenty of time before sunset. But he wanted there to be a big enough margin to show him as much as he could in the daylight.

“You're not going to give me any hints?” Markus asked halfway through the drive, breaking the silence. Connor glanced at him from the corner of his eye. The genuine curiosity on the other android's face made a smile crack over his own, despite his determination.

“Hm,” he murmured, cocking an eyebrow as he pretended to ponder the question. “But by definition it wouldn't be a surprise anymore if I did, would it?”

Markus raised an eyebrow back. “That's not true,” he argued. “That's why it's a hint. It's not a full revelation, just enough to let someone know what kind of mindset to have.” He gave Connor a look when the other android only grinned at him.

When the car finally pulled onto the final street, diverging from its original path parallel to the worst of the traffic and slowing to a stop against the curb to let them off, Connor reached over to place a hand against Markus' arm. “Wait here,” he said with bright eyes. “I'll be right back.” Markus' brows drew together in confusion, but Connor was already opening his door before he could get a word out, climbing out to the sidewalk and walking briskly up the path to a locked gate.

Markus held back a smile as he shook his head to himself. He scanned what he could see of the area while he waited; it was a place he didn't recognize, a high metal fence separating the sidewalk, the space beyond it hidden from view behind the tops of trees. It had to be a downward slope beyond the fence, judging by the unorthodox height of them.

He trailed a finger over the notebook cover where it rested on the seat beside his leg.The pages whispered under his hand as he hooked beneath it and flipped through them, skimming until he came to the sketch he'd been working on at the animal shelter. His gaze lingered over the lips that were frozen in a half-spoken word that would never be completed. The half-lidded eyes. The defined cheekbone. He resisted the urge to run his index finger along each of them, knowing the charcoal would smudge if he did.

Had they intended to make Connor so intricate when they'd designed him? he wondered. There were so many instances of care to detail that even he didn't always pick up on. They always revealed themselves in unexpected moments, most often when he studied the other android with an artist's eye. And even then it was in the aftermath, as he looked over his work, that he would realize what he'd captured.

And then there were the subtle changes to his mannerisms. The declaration of his freedom had brought out a different side of Connor. It was faint, almost unnoticeable, but Markus had picked up on it—he composed himself a little differently now, talked with a hint more expression in his face, held his shoulders less stiff, as if he felt he could finally relax where before he'd been so desperate to control his desires. In case...

In case it was ripped away.

The passenger door swung open without warning.

Markus' hand jumped to shut the notebook. “Ready?” Connor asked him, beaming into the car with eyes alight and eager.

Markus laughed. “Hard to say for sure, when I don't even know where we are.” He grabbed the notebook and opened his own door to follow Connor up the cement path. “Are we even supposed to be here?”

“I made arrangements.”

The gate that rose above their heads was still shut and locked; whatever this place was, it looked more than closed. Markus stood behind to watch as Connor placed a hand against one of the metal bars, leaning forward to scan for something beyond the entrance. He took a step back when a young man came into view on the other side, volunteer embroidered into the breast of his green button-down shirt. He gave the two of them a wide grin. “Hello, Markus,” he greeted. He raised his fingers to a panel, freckled skin melting away to reveal the porcelain white of an android's hand. The internal lock on the gate opened with a loud click.

“Enjoy the sunset,” the android added with a wink as he watched them make their way in. “Let us know if you have any questions.” Connor gave a nod of thanks, but Markus' focus was already lost on where the path led, descending deep into the trees he had seen from the car. “What...?” he whispered.

Connor took his hand. “Just wait.”

The ground sloped beneath their feet, taking them down into the maze of tree trunks, each spaced several feet from the others around it and standing like grave markers while their leaves caught the fading sunlight, beams illuminating the dust where they pierced the air. Wherever the path led, it was far below and out of sight. The possibility of getting lost felt a little too real.

“What is this place?” Markus asked quietly, almost afraid to disturb the stillness around them.

Connor's gaze lifted to the canopy of leaves above their heads. “It's a project the city started about twenty years ago, originally proposed as a way to bring more of a nature-driven environment to Detroit. They wanted nature to feel accessible to residents who don't have an opportunity to travel to the state parks in Michigan.”

“It doesn't even feel like we're in Detroit anymore.”

The corner of Connor's mouth curled upward. “Wait until we get to the bottom.”

The view of the gate they'd come through was long gone; whether it had come to be hidden by the thickness of the trees or the slope itself was hard to say. The hill began to level out just as Markus began to wonder how far it could possibly go, the space between the trees thinning, until the view ahead was no longer obscured, and he realized it wasn't just a hill they'd made their way down; the entire place was concave, sinking down from street level in the shape of a dome. The bottom of it opened into a grassy glade, bordered by trees on every side. And placed in the middle like the centerpiece of an altar sat a pond, no more than a hundred feet in diameter, its water reflecting the colors of the sky.

It was something out of a fairy tale.

He barely registered Connor, tugging gently on his hand as he stared. “What do you think?” the other android asked.

Markus could only shake his head. “How is there no one else here?” he managed as he let himself be led closer to the edge of the pond, several feet from where the water met the bank. They lowered themselves down onto the grass.

The sound Connor let out was almost sheepish. “They're... actually closed right now,” he admitted.

Markus raised his eyebrows, tearing his gaze from their surroundings. “You snuck us in?” he demanded.

“Not exactly. I just didn't get full permission.”

“Oh my god, Connor, are you serious?”

“The android at the gate maintains it at night, he agreed as long as we didn't disturb anything he wouldn't tell anyone—”

Markus couldn't help himself; a laugh escaped him at the look of embarrassment that spread over the other android's face. “We're going to get kicked out,” he teased, reaching his hand forward to rub Connor's jaw when he saw it clench. “You just caught me off guard is all. I love it. This place is beautiful.”

The light crept back into Connor's eyes. “You think so?”

Markus nodded and tilted forward, catching a glimpse of the other android's eyelids fluttering shut as he leaned to press his lips between his brows. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“You told me you wanted to find new places that inspired you to paint,” Connor explained. His eyes were still closed.

“I did.” Markus turned his head to look back to the water, then the trees that rose beyond it, almost aglow with the fading light. “And you certainly know how to pick them.”

“This isn't what I wanted to show you.”

“There's more?”

“Yes, but not yet. After the sunset.”

Markus huffed jokingly. “All this waiting, and not even a single hint to get me through.”

“It'll be worth it,” Connor replied. The grin on his face was blinding. “Just be patient.”

Markus gave a solemn nod, but his eyes were warm. “Very well. I resign myself to wait. And in the meantime I'll keep myself busy studying the most beautiful view Detroit has to offer.”

“That's the spirit.” Connor waved a hand toward what they could see of the horizon far above their heads, where the sky was darkening into the colors of the sunset. “The light will turn the outline of the trees black and create a nice contrast against the sky. It might make for a good painting opportunity.”

“I wasn't talking about the trees.”

Connor's brow furrowed. He turned back, question on the tip of his tongue, only to have his thirium pump stall for a moment when he realized Markus' eyes were on him. “Oh,” he said quietly.

Markus let out a low chuckle and reached his hand into the front pocket of his jeans. “I almost forgot, I have something for you.”

The box he withdrew was familiar, slim enough to be mistaken for a wallet, but instead of the familiar black Connor had grown accustomed to the color was a deep navy blue. “You said you wanted your own, right?” Markus reminded him. He raised the box up a moment before holding it out in offering.

“I didn't think you remembered,” Connor admitted. Their fingers brushed as he reached to take the new micro-magnet set.

“You might want to open it. These are a little different—they've made a few upgrades.”

Connor did as he was told, sliding his thumb against the clasp to open the box. He blinked in surprise when it fanned out like an expanding file folder, a clear, plastic envelope with its own color-coded tab between each of three sections.

He raised an eyebrow at Markus, but the other android's gaze was on the contents of the box. “They have a few variations now. Before it was just the one model—” Markus' finger reached forward to point to the middle envelope, and then the one to its left— “but now they have one for interpreting lighter touch. And the one on the other end is more intense.”

Connor's eyes widened. “So they all feel different?” he asked.

“That's what I was told.”

“You didn't have to do all this, Markus—I would have been more than happy with the same ones you have.”

Markus gave a dismissive shrug, despite the smile on his face. “They'll be released for sale this month,” he said. “They just let me have mine early.”

Connor ran a finger along the edge of the envelope with a pale green tab, the one Markus had said would feel the lightest. “Thank you,” he said. He took the envelope between two fingers and pulled it from the box. “Should we try it out?”

“Right now?” Markus let out a laugh. “If you want.” He watched as Connor extracted the envelope's contents, fishing out the lip film. “You'll be the first in history to use them,” he added.

“Hm.” Connor pressed the film into place, tucking the tab behind his lower lip with the tip of his tongue. “That's got a nice ring to it,” he said. His hand reached forward without warning, cupping Markus' chin to pull him closer. The other android stiffened in surprise, but only for a moment, before melting into a kiss as their lips were pressed together fleetingly. He pressed forward, trying to steal another, but Connor pulled back to study his face. “How does it feel?” he asked.

Markus was slow to answer. His gaze fell over the thumb that held him away, before flickering up to Connor's mouth, his own lips still parted. “Nice,” he managed after a few seconds. “Really nice.” And then he reached forward, grabbing Connor by the back of the neck, and pulled him into another kiss.

The colors of the sunset had already begun to mingle together, mixes of purple and pink bleeding through the clouds, the streaks of orange growing more prominent with each inch the sun crept lower. The surface of the pond rippled under the reflection of the hues in its own moving, messy blend. Neither of them quite remembered to pay any mind until it was almost too late.

Connor's eyes flitted up just as the last of the colors melted into each other several minutes later, fading with the oncoming darkness. He struggled for a moment to pull away from the hunger of Markus' lips. “I think we might have missed the sunset,” he admitted, searching the sky.

Markus reached to trail his thumbs down the length of either side of Connor's jaw. “That's okay,” he murmured back, studying the cleft in his chin. “I think I learned the meaning of soft.”

Connor's internal fans whirred; their mouths were still incredibly close. “Oh? Is it nice?”

“Very much so.” Markus paused, shutting his eyes as his brow knit together. The next words left his mouth slowly. “There's something I've been meaning to ask you.”

Connor tilted his head down to brush his lips against Markus' thumb. The corner of his mouth twitched when the other android ran the length of it. “There's something I've been meaning to ask you, too,” he said. The thumb traveled back the other direction.

“You first.”

Connor shook his head. “You called it.”

Markus' gaze flickered out over the water, nearly black now with only a few hints of orange across its surface. He opened his mouth, only to close it again. “I didn't expect it to be this hard,” he finally admitted to the shadows creeping their way across the glade. He let out a nervous laugh and tilted his head back, as if searching the oncoming evening sky for help. “I've been wondering if you'd like to make us official.”

The last light of the sunset made a silent exit, taking what remained of the orange from the clouds with it. Not even the world continuing on above them, long forgotten, could reach far enough to penetrate the silence.

“What?”

“I'm asking you if you'd want to be my boyfriend, Connor,” Markus reiterated with closed eyes. The nervousness was thick in his voice.

Three seconds passed, each more unbearable than the last, until Connor raised his hands to bury his face. “Oh my god, Markus—” he pleaded.

The pulse of Markus' thirium pump plummeted in his chest. “I-I didn't want to rush you,” he stammered. “But I didn't want to wait any longer, I wasn't sure if it was too early to ask, and it... I'm sorry. I should have waited—”

Connor gave a small shake of his head, cutting him off. “Markus, stop.” He tore his eyes away from his fingers to search the other's in the growing darkness. “Why do you think I brought you here?” he asked.

“I...” Markus paused, his train of thought dying. He blinked twice, slowly. “What do you mean?”

Connor's internal fans let out a sigh of air. “I was already going to ask you. During the surprise.” He gave a smile of defeat when he added, “but I guess you've beaten me to it.”

“Oh m... Connor...” A groan escaped the back of Markus' throat. He lowered his head into his hands, the weight of the situation crashing through his system. This could only happen to them. “I'm so sorry. I should have figured it out.”

To his surprise, Connor let out a laugh. Hands reached up to pull at his wrists. “You know it's okay to give someone else a chance once in a while,” the other android teased. “Stop trying to steal the limelight all the time.”

“I feel terrible,” Markus muttered, the words thick with guilt. He shook his head to himself. “I wouldn't have asked if I'd known that was your plan. I really am sorry.”

“Well,” Connor gave a smile and shrugged, “at least I know your answer would have been yes.”

Markus pulled his wrists gently from Connor's grip, reaching up to run his fingers into the other android's hair on either side of his head, searching his gaze in the darkness. “You could have asked me the day we met and it would have been yes,” he murmured.

The smile on Connor's face softened. “Really, there and then?” he whispered. His body leaned forward to press their foreheads together.

Markus gave a quiet chuckle as he pressed back, eyes closed. “Maybe would have made you be a gentleman about it, take me out on a couple of dates first. Definitely by the second.”

“Fair enough.” Connor copied his hands, reaching up to take either side of Markus' face between his palms. “My answer for you is yes, I'd like to make us official.” His mouth spread into another smile as Markus stole a kiss. “Sorry to make you wait so long. It's almost time.”

“I don't mind.”

“And I guess now I don't have a question for you when it comes after all... well.” Connor's head tilted back, gaze flickering to the sky. “Not the one I intended.”

Markus blinked. “The one you intended?” he echoed.

The edges of Connor's jaw tightened as he clenched it. “Well,” he repeated, slowly. “There is one other question that I've been meaning to ask you.”

A hand trailed from Connor's hair back to his mouth. “I think you deserve an answer to whatever it is, since I stole the one you were going to ask,” Markus said, exploring the wrinkles in his lips.

Connor searched his face. “Honest answer?” he asked.

“Honest answer.”

His eyes closed, weighing the offer, before he allowed himself to nod. “What I want to know is... What was it you said to me, the night we got the news from Kamski?”

The hand against Connor's mouth stiffened. Even in the dark, the surprise on the other android's face was clear as day. His mouth fell open a fraction of an inch, struggling to wrestle out a reply for several seconds, before he managed an unconvincing, “I told you.”

Connor shook his head. “Honest answer,” he reminded him. “I want to know what you actually said.”

Markus' lips pressed into a thin line. Both hands withdrew to his lap, the lightheartedness in his eyes fading. In its absence the hint of something deeper peeked through; something meant to be kept hidden, tucked away in hopes that it would be overlooked and forgotten.

He almost looked guilty.

Connor rubbed his thumbs down either side of the android's cheeks. “Markus?” he tried again.

Markus' eyes closed at the sound of his name. “I don't want it to change your answer,” he finally relented.

“Why would it?”

Markus' gaze shifted away, towards the pond. “I never meant for you to hear it. I never even meant to say it out loud, it just... it came to me in the moment. I thought it had only been, well.” His voice lowered to a whisper as he stared out over the water. “A thought.”

Connor frowned, brow furrowing at the despair laced around the word. “Whatever it was, it won't change my answer.”

“You don't know that,” Markus murmured. Even from only the view of his profile, Connor could see that his face was unconvinced. He watched in uncertainty, waiting, but whatever other thoughts were running through Markus' head, it was clear he was done sharing.

Connor followed his gaze to the pond. Moonlight had taken the place of the sunset's over the surface, rippling in broken patches dimmer than its predecessor, but just as breathtaking. His eyes rose from the water to the moon itself. “Yes, I do,” he said.

But a seed of doubt had sprouted in his chest. Did he? Could he be ready to hear whatever this was, when Markus himself was so unsure?

Either way, it was too late. The other android's head dipped down in defeat, a muttered curse leaving his lips. The next words that came were low—barely audible, even in the stillness—but just loud enough for Connor's eyes to widen as he caught them.

“What?” he whispered. Surely he hadn't heard right.

It had sounded like I think I'm falling in love with you.

Markus's fingers tightened in his lap, eyes still cast away. “The night we were dancing after we got the news,” he repeated. “I said... that I thought I was falling in love with you. I don't know why it came to me. It just did.” He paused to run a hand over the back of his neck. “If... you don't still want to be... you know, I understand. I didn't want you to feel pressured to reciprocate anything. I don't even know what I make of my own feelings.” His chin tilted up towards the darkness of the sky, tinged with city light. “I just know that when I'm with you, it's like a weight's lifted from my shoulders, and I can just... be. There's no pressure, no demand to be the leader, or the decision maker. To be the savior. You've never looked at me that way. You always just expect me to be me.” His shoulders fell, the declaration over. “Sorry,” he added, the word tinged with guilt.

Connor shook his head. “Don't,” he whispered, his voice raspy. He paused to clear his vocal box. “Don't be sorry. You've always been so in-tune with your emotions. It's a gift I wish I had. And the way it comes to you, it's almost like art.” His fingers reached down, brushing against the back of the other android's wrist. “Don't ever be sorry for that.” Markus stared down at the interaction, uncertainty in his eyes. When Connor remained unmoving he slid his own hand over Connor's knuckles in silent relent.

An extra breath of air sucked its way through Connor's internal fans as he took in the doubt that still hung heavy on Markus' face. “So,” he started solemnly, “is it safe for me to assume now that you like me?”

The words floated in the air for a moment before they were registered. Markus dared a glance back up. “What...?”

The corner of Connor's mouth twitched. “In all the time we've spent together, not once have I ever heard you say you like me. I was really starting to wonder.”

Markus met his gaze now, confusion passing over his features, before he raised eyebrow of suspicion. “Did you... just try to make a joke?” he asked.

Connor shook his head. “On the contrary, this is a serious matter. My theories have finally been confirmed, after all this time—”

Both brows shot up. “You are making a joke—”

“But,” Connor continued as if he hadn't heard him, “this does mean that you have to build your way up first.” He grinned when Markus gave him a look. “You can't just tell someone you think you're in love with them before you've even told them you like them.”

“For the record, you're the one who made me tell you,” Markus pointed out. He raised his eyes to the sky in a half-hearted eyeroll. “I like you, Connor.”

The grin on Connor's face turned to a smirk as he leaned in, bringing their faces closer. “Now. Do you have a crush on me?”

“Connor.” Markus let out a groan. Even in the dark, the shade of blue beneath his face grew a little more prominent. “Haven't I been through enough tonight?” he pleaded.

“Answer the question, sir.”

The other android threw his hands up in mock defeat. “Yes, Connor, I have a crush on you.”

“There you go.” Connor raised a hand to reach for the back of Markus' neck and pulled him close, pressing a slow kiss against his lips. “That wasn't so hard, was it?”

“I don't appreciate the condescending tone,” Markus joked, but the frustrated facade was already disappearing, crumbling under the tingling that bloomed from his mouth to the edge of his jaw.

“To be fair, I don't get to see you flustered very often,” Connor pointed out. His grip tightened to tilt Markus' head back as his lips began to trail down, making their way over the android's exposed neck. But rather than leaning into it like he expected, Markus yanked his chin down, scrunching his shoulder up towards his ear. A half-smothered giggle he couldn't quite suppress rose from him in a hitch that nearly made Connor's processors stall.

A smirk of delight spread over his face as realization set in.

“Now do I?” he teased, holding him in place with the hand still behind his neck and crouching to his feet. Markus scrambled to crawl his way backwards, quick to catch on, but it was too late; Connor was already over him, pushing him down towards the grass, grip on his neck like a vice as he went to work.

Markus let out a growl of desperation as his hands were blocked from reaching to push Connor's merciless lips away. Even with only one unoccupied, the other android was faster, his design for neutralizing hostile threats to his advantage. It didn't take long for the giggles to turn into choked laughter. And then pleads of surrender when Connor's face wedged between his chin and collarbone, taking over the job of his other hand, and he pinned Markus' wrists to the ground.

“You win,” Markus choked out, “you win, let me go—”

A grunt escaped him as the grip on his wrists slackened and he pulled them away, shoving them up against Connor's neck, though the torment had already stopped. “Is this how you get confessions from all your victims?” he demanded, staring up into the brown eyes that were filled with mirth. “Tactics of relentless interrogation and humiliation?”

“Only the leader of the revolution. Who happens to have a crush on me.” Connor grinned at the dirty look Markus gave him. “If I'd known it was this easy Jericho wouldn't have gotten very far.”

“You would have deviated before it got to that point, I'd like to think.”

“Mh, true.” Connor leaned down onto his hands and pressed a kiss against Markus' mouth. “The sound of your laugh would have been enough to cause my software instability.”

Markus gave a devilish smirk. “Or maybe it would've been the other way around,” he said.

“Not a chance.”

“We'll see. I bought two sets.”

“Don't get your hopes up.” Connor raised an eyebrow, waiting for another quip, but Markus' eyes were softening. The hands on his throat found their way to either side of his face. “What is it?” he asked.

“You just...” Markus pressed his lips together, searching for the right words. “You smile so much more now than before. It's like you never really used to let yourself be present in the moment.”

Connor closed his eyes as Markus ran an index finger over the chipped exterior beneath his synthetic skin, where his LED used to reside. “I didn't,” he said quietly. He pushed away the memories bubbling up and lowered onto his elbows, nudging his chin forward to close the distance between their lips. The kiss Markus gave him back was gentle. The memories would have their day, when he would sit down and start the journey of working through them, face the fears he had cut back but not yet uprooted. But not now. Not today. Today was a day to simply be.

A quiet alarm went off in the back of Connor's mind when he pulled away, reminding him of the time that he'd forgotten to be checking. He let out a quiet oh, and without another word rolled off of Markus, settling onto his back in the grass.

“Well?” he asked after a minute of silence had stretched between them. His voice was hopeful. “What do you think?”

“What do you mean?”

“Of the stars.”

Markus searched the sky, brow furrowed. “Connor, there aren't any out. There never are—you can't see them over the city lights.”

“You—you can't see...?” Connor shot up, twisting to stare down at where Markus lay before lifting his eyes back to the heavens, mouth falling open. And then his face fell in realization. “I forgot.” He pressed the base of his palm against his forehead, a noise of despair escaping him. “You're not the same model type.”

Markus gave a slow blink. “What—?”

“No,” Connor muttered to himself. He stole another glance up as his mind scrambled for a solution, already lost in thought, options racing through his head.

“Here,” he finally said after a minute. “Give me your hand.”

Markus did as he was asked, reaching to intertwine their fingers while the synthetic skin melted away, down to Connor's wrist, the android's face twitching as he opened an interface between them.

Markus' brow furrowed. Rather than prioritizing the download of information like usual, his vision had gone double, overlapping with what Connor was showing him. He probed at the connection as he closed his eyes. His own vision went dark, but the overlap remained, and Markus realized as it was blinked into focus that he was looking at himself through Connor's eyes. The interface went dark for a moment while Connor lay back down in the grass, eyes closed.

A small gasp escaped Markus when he opened them again.

Beyond the dissipating clouds, the lackluster view he'd seen before had been replaced with hundreds—thousands, even—of stars; clusters to solitary pinpricks, some stationary and white, others pulsing with flares of red or blue. Markus shook his head in disbelief. More than thousands, he realized; they might as well have been deep in the mountains, hundreds of miles away from humanity. “You see like this all the time?” he whispered.

“I don't always use this particular feature,” Connor said. “But yes, I can access it whenever I want.”

“This... is beautiful.” Markus shook his head again. “You're the one who should have been the artist, not me. You have the perfect eyes for it.”

“I could never have your artistic inspiration.” Connor kept his gaze open, trying not to focus on any particular part of the sky to let Markus take in as much as possible. “Are you familiar with the different constellations?” he asked.

Markus shifted beside him, moving to tuck his head blindly into the nook between Connor's neck and shoulder. “Not very much.”

Connor's eyes flickered over the clusters, searching for matches to the star charts, before settling on a particular group. “That's Coma Berenices,” he started slowly. His gaze moved an inch to the right. “That one is Leo, and the one on the left is Bootes, dominated by Arcturus—the fourth brightest star in the sky—which also makes up one point of the Great Diamond.”

He named the details of the sky one at a time, taking care not to miss any of the stars that connected to other, outlying constellations that spread between clusters; Virgo to Corvus, to Hydra, to Canis Major. He had just started on Canis Minor when he raised their clasped hands up to his mouth. “Commonly represented as the smaller of two dogs,” he recited, lips brushing the back of Markus' knuckles while he spoke. A small noise of content rose from the other android. “Running on either side of Monoceros.”

He was wrapping up the layout of Orion when Markus spoke up, interrupting before he could continue. “Do you think we're keeping that other android?” he asked.

Connor blinked. “Jerry? No. He said we could stay as long as we want.”

“Figuratively or literally? Because I wouldn't mind laying here for the rest of night.”

Connor's lips spread into a smile against the back of Markus' hand. “Well, if he tries to say anything you can tell him to talk to your significant other,” he said.

“Ah, yes.” Markus let out a chuckle. He turned onto his side and pulled their hands away from Connor's mouth to make room for his own. The tips of their tongues flicked together, both of their worlds going dark as Connor closed his eyes. “Forgot about that.”

Markus' palm disconnected from Connor's ever so slightly when they pulled away, putting the interface on pause. “So,” he murmured. “Does this mean you haven't changed your mind?”

Connor searched his eyes in the darkness, taking in the fractured moonlight that danced over his irises and caught in his lashes. The strongest, most beautiful soul he knew, looking at him as if he held the fate of the world in his palms. His Markus.

“Not in the slightest,” Connor murmured back. And then his eyes closed as Markus pulled him into a new kiss, their fingers reaching blindly for each other, hands turning as porcelain-white as the stars that burned above them.

Ok, a couple things. Number one, this bonus chapter is a birthday gift for my good friend @nerdbullydraws I liked what they wanted so much that I asked if I could add it to the TMOS canon. Happy birthday binch Number two, the last month has been hell for me. I hope this chapter was up to par—I rewrote it more than once and did the best I could, so I hope it's satisfactory. I apologize if it felt different at all. Number three, I've started an instagram for people to keep up with my writing journey! Fun fact: I have a novel I've been working on for a few years, and ideas for more in the future. If you wanna keep up with me and the more professional side of what I do, you can find me at ollie.writes :) My work specifically for this story won't be associated with it, as I consider this a private passtime and the page will be for my professional stuff, but if you're interested in me as a writer I'd love if you dropped by to say hi! Send me a message if you came from over here and I'll follow you back.

Thank you sticking with me all the way to the end. I am now off to take a long-needed break and a nap. Goodnight

#detroit become human #rk1000 #rk1k #dbh #dbh connor #dbh markus #the meaning of silence #conkus

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lasersheith · 6 years

Note

for prompts: mutually pining Keith and Shiro with matching tattoos (something that’s meaningful to them specifically)... that they got separately, without realizing they were getting matching tattoos 🙌🏼

I love this prompt SO much! Thank you for sending it! It got pretty long, so I’m gonna make a part two later. It’ll probably eventually end up on AO3 at some point.

A lot of people asked Allura why she became a tattoo artist of all things. Her mother and father, with their high ranking offices and political connections had always expected her to follow in their footsteps, but loved her and supported her decision even if they didn’t understand it. When she first became interested in art and design, her uncle, with his veritable fashion empire had been especially keen to take her under his wing, but still offered her his critiques and praises for her beautiful work. Her friends from the ivy league school at which she’d gotten a full ride for a business degree pretended they didn’t turn up their noses at her chosen career, but it didn’t bother her in the slightest. Especially not when a familiar handsome face walked into her quiet little shop.

“Keith! Back again, are we?” She greeted him with a smile. “You’ve turned me into an addict, Ally. Can’t stay away long.” He replied, returning her smile and dropping a sheet of notebook paper in front of her on the desk. The page was filled with pencil sketches. There was a large, black panther in the middle with an inscrutable expression, poised to pounce. Along the edges there were more sketches of large cats; a few leopards, a cheetah, another panther. The one that caught her eye the most, however, was the lion. It stood serenely, facing just slightly left of center, windswept mane appearing to billow in an unseen breeze. It exuded a certain dangerous quality that Allura couldn’t quite name. As though it were standing there just to observe, but it absolutely wasn’t to be trifled with.

It was perfect for Keith.

“I think this one.” She said, pointing at it. Keith hummed in approval. “Not the panther?” He asked tentatively. “Well it’s your body, so we can do the panther if that’s what you’d like.” She started tactfully. “But I think the lion suits you better.” He nodded, deep in thought. “I do think you’ve just about run out of room on your arms and chest, though.” She added with a teasing smile. “Where is this one going?” He turned around and hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I was thinking in between my shoulder blades, pretty big. Dinner plate sized, maybe?” Allura narrowed her eyes and looked between the spot where he was pointing and the paper. She held the drawing up, first looking at the panther and then the lion. “That should work.” She finally said after a brief pause, twisting the paper a few ways to gauge where each drawing would look best.

“Let’s do it then,” He said decisively, “The lion.” Allura nodded with a smile. “Alright then, let’s get started.”

2 hours later, all of the outlining was finished and looked absolutely perfect to Allura’s eyes. She held up a mirror in front of Keith as he studied the fresh tattoo from the larger wall mirror’s reflection with a wide smile. “I think this is my favorite one yet.” He said, looking up at her. She grinned back. “Excellent!” She replied triumphantly. “I think we should wait 10 days, maybe 2 weeks for the rest. Let you heal up and rest, this piece is pretty big.” He nodded. “Same time, Saturday after next?” She pulled out her phone and put his next appointment in her calendar. “You’re booked. Let’s get you covered up and checked out, then.”

Some days Allura regretted her walk-in policy; there was always the danger of people coming in to get something on the spur of the moment and being angry when they regret it, inebriated college boys who don’t understand how bleeding works and why she won’t tattoo them when they’re nearly black out drunk, and kids who come in pretending they “forgot” their ID at home. Other days, ridiculously tall and muscular, handsome, one-armed strangers waltz in wearing leather jackets, tight jeans, and boots that make her mouth drop open and she didn’t regret it at all. He smiled shyly at her as he approached the counter. “Hi there, how can I help you?” She asked with her best charming smile. The man returned it politely and pulled an unevenly folded sheet of notebook paper from his pocket, slightly poking his tongue out between his pursed lips as he struggled to unfold it with one hand. Allura waited patiently, sensing that he would be put off by an offer of assistance. “I was hoping to do a consultation to maybe get one of these done on my chest.” He said, having finally opened the page flat on the counter.

The lions littering the page were Keith’s work. There was no doubt in her mind. Allura had tattooed enough of his drawings on his own skin that she’d be able to pick them out in the dark if the lines were drawn hard enough. “Where did you get this?” She asked, trying not to sound hostile. Art theft was rampant in the tattooing community and she wouldn’t let it happen to one of her best customers, especially since she also considered him a close friend. The man’s cheeks went pink and he stuttered a bit. “My friend is an artist.” He started, clearing his throat before continuing. “We went to the zoo and he was sketching, so I asked him to draw some of the lions for me.” Allura eyed him suspiciously for a moment. “Does this friend have a name?” She asked. The man looked immediately affronted. “Keith.” He said plainly. “Look, I can go somewhere else if you want.” His voice took on a hardened edge.

Everything clicked into place for her with that. The leather jacket and jawline that could cut glass should have clenched it immediately, but she was an artist not a detective. The new “friend” Keith had mentioned spending time with, the one he’d been going on and on about how sweet and kind and strong he was. He’d mentioned their date to the zoo to Allura during his last tattooing session, having absolutely denied it was a date, because “there’s no way someone like him is into someone like me, Allura, come on.” She held up her hands, “No, no, I’m sorry. Keith comes here a lot is all, I recognized his work and wanted to make sure you hadn’t stolen it.” His eyes and his posture softened at her words. “Oh, ok. Well that’s really cool of you, actually.” He said with a faraway smile. “His work is pretty one of a kind, isn’t it?” Allura tried hard not to giggle. He was absolutely done for and it was painfully obviously written clear across his face.

“It is absolutely unique and gorgeous.” She agreed. “And I think any of these would look great on you, which one’s your favorite?” She asked, the vibe of the conversation having eased back into a much more friendly one. “I was thinking this one.” She smiled as he pointed at a drawing that was very reminiscent of the one she’d just done on Keith. The lion was sitting in this one, not standing, facing slightly to the right this time. His mane was fluffed and blowing in the breeze, and he had that same hint of dangerous, predatory energy while still appearing aloof and regal.

“Great choice.” She replied sincerely. “I’ve done a lot of Keith’s work, I’m more than comfortable freehanding it, but I’m happy to use a stencil if that’s what you’d prefer.” She pulled a binder out of the desk drawer and laid it on the table, hundreds of small photos of her previous work was lovingly arranged in the plastic sleeves. The middle had a divider. “Up here is stenciled work, and the back is freehand. Feel free to take your time looking.”

She observed him as he poured through the book, comparing several pictures from the front and back in turns. Keith had described him as breathtaking, and he certainly wasn’t wrong. The scar across the bridge of his nose only made him more handsome, somehow sharpening his features even further than nature already had. She had to stifle a laugh as she noticed him clack the barbell in his tongue against the roof of his mouth while deep in thought. Keith had never stood a chance. He looked up at her with another polite smile. “I think freehand is fine. Your work is really incredible.” Praises for her art were the quickest path to excellent service. She’d gladly bend over backwards for a polite customer who claimed to be a fan.

“I’m so glad you think so.” She answered with a bright smile. “When were you thinking?” He pulled out his phone and opened his calendar. “When’s your next available appointment?” She pulled open her own shop calendar and hummed in thought. “Well, I have a Tuesday at 4:30. Or if you’ve not had any aspirin or alcohol in about 12 hours, we could do it now. I don’t have anyone else scheduled for 3 hours. That should be plenty of time provided it’s going in this area.” She made a circle with her hands in the air around one of his pecs. His eyes widened a little. “Or if you need more time to think about it. No rush.” He smiled wide.

“No, now is perfect. Keith’s away for work, so I’ll be able to show it off all healed up by the time he gets back.” Allura returned his grin and had him sign all the usual paperwork. He finally introduced himself as Shiro. She couldn’t wait for the frantic messages from Keith when he finally saw Shiro’s tattoo of his drawing. Allura led him back to the sterile tattooing room trying not to snicker about Keith’s reaction, it was sure to be priceless.

“Oh uh…” Shiro started, clearly nervous. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the hook next to the door. “Before we get started. There’s um. There’s kind of a lot…” Allura waited patiently again as he tried to find the right words. “There’s a lot of scarring. The spot I want the ink doesn’t have much, but it might be hard to look at.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes as he spoke. “Don’t worry about that at all. I promise there’s nothing you can show me that I would run from.” She meant it sincerely, and he appeared to not mistake it for a platitude, offering her a kind smile in return. “And, if I may be so bold.” She added quietly. “I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels that way.” Shiro knew, of course, who she meant. A dark blush spread its way across his cheeks. “Here’s to hoping.” He replied with a slight chuckle.

He pulled the white shirt up over his head and with a practiced motion. She took in the scars around his missing arm first, they looked faded and pink- clearly an old injury. There were several other scars across his chest and stomach, some deep and still an angry purplish color, others not as severe and closer to the tone of his skin. “Not even close to the worst thing I’ve seen.” She said as she pulled on her gloves and set about opening all of the fresh packages. “Let me tell you about the ridiculous frat boy that came in a few years back.” She started her story as she set about preparing his skin for the ink. “You’ll NEVER believe what he wanted.” She pulled back and made a disgusted face. “Or where.” Shiro visibly relaxed and laughed a bit, coaxing her for the rest of the story as she started.

TO BE CONTINUED

#samwrites #sheith #tattoo AU

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thevirginchronicles · 4 years

Text

Self Portait at 28 by Dave Berman

I know it’s a bad title

but I'm giving it to myself as a gift

on a day nearly canceled by sunlight

when the entire hill is approaching

the ideal of Virginia

brochured with goldenrod and loblolly

and I think "at least I have not woken up

with a bloody knife in my hand"

by then having absently wandered

one hundred yards from the house

while still seated in this chair

with my eyes closed.

It is a certain hill

the one I imagine when I hear the word "hill"

and if the apocalypse turns out

to be a world-wide nervous breakdown

if our five billion minds collapse at once

well I'd call that a surprise ending

and this hill would still be beautiful

a place I wouldn't mind dying

alone or with you.

I am trying to get at something

and I want to talk very plainly to you

so that we are both comforted by the honesty.

You see there is a window by my desk

I stare out when I am stuck

though the outdoors has rarely inspired me to write

and I don't know why I keep staring at it.

My childhood hasn't made good material either

mostly being a mulch of white minutes

with a few stand out moments,

popping tar bubbles on the driveway in the summer

a certain amount of pride at school

everytime they called it "our sun"

and playing football when the only play

was "go out long" are what stand out now.

If squeezed for more information

I can remember old clock radios

with flipping metal numbers

and an entree called Surf and Turf.

As a way of getting in touch with my origins

every night I set the alarm clock

for the time I was born so that waking up

becomes a historical reenactment and the first thing I do

is take a reading of the day and try to flow with it like

when you're riding a mechanical bull and you strain to learn

the pattern quickly so you don't inadverantly resist it.

II two

I can't remember being born

and no one else can remember it either

even the doctor who I met years later

at a cocktail party.

It's one of the little disappointments

that makes you think about getting away

going to Holly Springs or Coral Gables

and taking a room on the square

with a landlady whose hands are scored

by disinfectant, telling the people you meet

that you are from Alaska, and listen

to what they have to say about Alaska

until you have learned much more about Alaska

than you ever will about Holly Springs or Coral Gables.

Sometimes I am buying a newspaper

in a strange city and think

"I am about to learn what it's like to live here."

Oftentimes there is a news item

about the complaints of homeowners

who live beside the airport

and I realize that I read an article

on this subject nearly once a year

and always receive the same image.

I am in bed late at night

in my house near the airport

listening to the jets fly overhead

a strange wife sleeping beside me.

In my mind, the bedroom is an amalgamation

of various cold medicine commercial sets

(there is always a box of tissue on the nightstand).

I know these recurring news articles are clues,

flaws in the design though I haven't figured out

how to string them together yet,

but I've begun to notice that the same people

are dying over and over again,

for instance Minnie Pearl

who died this year

for the fourth time in four years.

III three

Today is the first day of Lent

and once again I'm not really sure what it is.

How many more years will I let pass

before I take the trouble to ask someone?

It reminds of this morning

when you were getting ready for work.

I was sitting by the space heater

numbly watching you dress

and when you asked why I never wear a robe

I had so many good reasons

I didn't know where to begin.

If ou were cool in high school

you didn't ask too many questions.

You could tell who'd been to last night's

big metal concert by the new t-shirts in the hallway.

You didn't have to ask

and that's what cool was:

the ability to deduct

to know without asking.

And the pressure to simulate coolness

means not asking when you don't know,

which is why kids grow ever more stupid.

A yearbook's endpages, filled with promises

to stay in touch, stand as proof of the uselessness

of a teenager's promise. Not like I'm dying

for a letter from the class stoner

ten years on but...

Do you remember the way the girls

would call out "love you!"

conveniently leaving out the "I"

as if they didn't want to commit

to their own declarations.

I agree that the "I" is a pretty heavy concept

and hope you won't get uncomfortable

if I should go into some deeper stuff here.

IV four

There are things I've given up on

like recording funny answering machine messages.

It's part of growing older

and the human race as a group

has matured along the same lines.

It seems our comedy dates the quickest.

If you laugh out loud at Shakespeare's jokes

I hope you won't be insulted

if I say you're trying too hard.

Even sketches from the original Saturday Night Live

seem slow-witted and obvious now.

It's just that our advances are irrepressible.

Nowadays little kids can't even set up lemonade stands.

It makes people too self-conscious about the past,

though try explaining that to a kid.

I'm not saying it should be this way.

All this new technology

will eventually give us new feelings

that will never completely displace the old ones

leaving everyone feeling quite nervous

and split in two.

We will travel to Mars

even as folks on Earth

are still ripping open potato chip

bags with their teeth.

Why? I don't have the time or intelligence

to make all the connections

like my friend Gordon

(this is a true story)

who grew up in Braintree Massachusetts

and had never pictured a brain snagged in a tree

until I brought it up.

He'd never broken the name down to its parts.

By then it was too late.

He had moved to Coral Gables.

V five

The hill out my window is still looking beautiful

suffused in a kind of gold national park light

and it seems to say,

I'm sorry the world could not possibly

use another poem about Orpheus

but I'm available if you're not working

on a self-portrait or anything.

I'm watching my dog have nightmares,

twitching and whining on the office floor

and I try to imagine what beast

has cornered him in the meadow

where his dreams are set.

I'm just letting the day be what it is:

a place for a large number of things

to gather and interact --

not even a place but an occasion

a reality for real things.

Friends warned me not to get too psychedelic

or religious with this piece:

"They won't accept it if it's too psychedelic

or religious," but these are valid topics

and I'm the one with the dog twitching on the floor

possibly dreaming of me

that part of me that would beat a dog

for no good reason

no reason that a dog could see.

I am trying to get at something so simple

that I have to talk plainly

so the words don't disfigure it

and if it turns out that what I say is untrue

then at least let it be harmless

like a leaky boat in the reeds

that is bothering no one.

VI six

I can't trust the accuracy of my own memories,

many of them having blended with sentimental

telephone and margarine commercials

plainly ruined by Madison Avenue

though no one seems to call the advertising world

"Madison Avenue" anymore. Have they moved?

Let's get an update on this.

But first I have some business to take care of.

I walked out to the hill behind our house

which looks positively Alaskan today

and it would be easier to explain this

if I had a picture to show you

but I was with our young dog

and he was running through the tall grass

like running through the tall grass

is all of life together

until a bird calls or he finds a beer can

and that thing fills all the space in his head.

You see, his mind can only hold one thought at a time and when he finally hears me call his name he looks up and cocks his head and for a single moment my voice is everything:

Self portrait at 28.

I am once again thinking about this amazing poem.

#poetry #quotes

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mangled-dreams · 7 years

Text

Dealings with a Devil (Part 6)

Reader X Darkiplier

You, Reader, have made a deal with what you believed to be a fantasized version of your favorite YouTuber’s alter ego, Darkiplier after he’d visited you in a dream. You believed Darkiplier to only exist in your dreams and on Markiplier’s YouTube channel, but by some impossible way he’s real and he intends on collecting on your debt to him.

Walking around your hotel room you lay out your clothing for the day and make sure your snacks are carefully packed away in your laptop bag. Of course there will be food at the convention, but it'll be over priced for very little. An unforgiving pattern at large events in general.

After showering and dressing you gather up your portable phone charger, cord, and your all access badge given to you by Mark. Your badge allows you access to the restricted areas as well as into the venue without paying. You have reserved seating for panels you want to sit in on as well as the panel that Mark and the others will be on later in the afternoon.

Hearing a knock at your door you walk over and open it, greeting Mark with some level of surprise. “What are you doing here?” you ask not sure what he'd need to come to your hotel room for. Not that you don't like spending time with him, you just doesn't know what the man could need from you just an hour before the convention.

Mark chuckles and holds out a plain white tube to you. “I wanted to tell you know I did a thing.” he says sitting down on the arm of the couch. You raise a brow in question. “Open the tube.” he tells you, watching you cautiously open the tube. “It's not a bomb.” he jokes earning a laugh from you.

“I dunno... there's something shifty about you, Mark.” you tease back tilting the tube so that the content slips out into your hand. You set the tube down and unroll thick card stock paper in your hands more than confused. Was it a limited edition poster for the convention? As you unroll the poster your eyes widen. This isn't something Mark had made, this is yours! This is the poster you'd made for him as a gift.

“Mark, w-what does this...?” you look at him, seeing the joy in his face.

“So the guys and I were talking, arguing, about who's poster was better.” Mark says standing up and takes the poster from your hands. “With your permission, we want to sell them at the convention; kind of like a competition. Sean and I got a wager going on about who can sell out the quickest.” Mark tells you trying to gauge your reactions.

“What?” you shout, a little freaked out at the thought of such a large volume of people, physical people seeing and potentially buying your art work. “Ah...” your speechless. Obviously Mark seems to think your art is good enough to display and sell, but... “I... I don't know what to say, honestly. I mean, I'm honored, but at the same time I'm so scared of having so many people looking at my work right in front of me. It's different on the internet. I mean I don't see anyone on the net, but ah...I did give them to you as a gift without restrictions...” you say rubbing the back of your neck. He seems so excited about display and selling the posters.

“We won't be keeping the money past paying for the posters.” Mark tells you earning a confused look from you.

“What?” you ask a little but more than confused.

“The money from the posters will go back to you, what ever we make it'll be up to you what happens to it. You can keep it, give it to charity, refuse it... You deserve to have a little bit of publicity. You art is amazing, and I'm not just saying that. The others agree with me.” Mark says earnestly. You look down to your poster then to Mark again.

“You seem so sure of this.” you tell him a little weakly. Mark grins nodding his head.

“I'm so sure of this. Even Chica agrees with me.” Mark says earning a little bit of laughter from you.

“Well, if Chica agrees.” You say softly. You both talk a few minutes more and reluctantly agree to a trial run for the first day which sends Mark over the moon. You laugh, watching the goofball jump up and down encouraging you to believe in yourself before he leaves telling you he'll see you at the convention. You laugh bid him goodbye before gathering your things and take your leave. Sure, you're not completely confident in the prospects of your art being bought, even if it is backed by Markiplier and his A-Team, but it makes you feel better.

From your vantage point behind Mark and off to the left, you can see just about every one's sections. Sean is set up directly across from Mark, Ethan and Tyler on either side of Mark, and Wade and Bob are just a few booths down. You assume they try to get their booths next to each other if possible for just discussion and comedy reasons and so far, it's been enjoyable. There are periods where the flow of people slows down but for the most part it's been busy, busy, busy!

Your computer on a small table to your left, your tablet in hand as you do a few quick sketches of Sean at his booth. His expressions so amusing to watch as he interacts with his fans. Glancing up you spot him looking at you with a raised brow. You laugh and twist your computer screen, blowing up a small doodle enough for him to vaugely see. He gives you a look that says “not bad” before turning to a young woman that had walked over to his booth.

You turn your computer back to face you, minimize your page, and look at Sean again. He's turned, looking at a few things on the wall behind him, his wall of merchandiser as he talks with the girl. You sketch the scene, barely registering that Sean is now smiling quite largely and pointing directly at you. Your pen hand pauses and you look around, seeing if there is anyone directly next to you. Mark is talking with a ground of fans, glancing at you with curiosity.

You shrug your shoulders, but before you can dismiss the odd actions of your new found friend a voice calls out you to.

“Are you Dream Maker?” the young woman from Sean's booth asks, in her arms are a mountain of posters tubes and plushies. You wonder how she's going to make it through the rest of the convention like that before your handle on Tumblr brings your attention back to her face.

“What?” you ask a bit confused.

“J-Jack said you made his poster, oh wow! I see one for Markiplier too!” she says with a dreamy look in her eyes. You blush, glancing at the poster to make sure she's looking at the right one. She is.

“Ah, y-yes. I made the posters.” you say setting your tablet and pen down. You stand up and move to the empty corner of Marks' table.

“You have to be Dream Maker, then! I know your style anywhere! It's so awesome to meet you in person! I didn't even know you were going to be at the convention! I would have told my mom! She loves the dreamscape you made me! I have it hanging in the living room.” the woman says before her words finally click with your head.

“Holy mother of fucks!” you gasp earning a few curious glances from the people around you. “Ashlynn! I, damn, girl, I didn't know you lived in LA!” you say happily. Now you can finally put a face to the user handle slash best customer.

“Yeah! I knew you'd be in LA, but I didn't know you'd be here!” Ashlynn says setting her things down. You smile at her.

“It was kind of a surprise to me too, but hot damn, it's good to meet you in person!” you say brightly.

Ashlynn pulls out the poster she just purchased from Sean's booth and holds out a silver pen to you. “Will you sign this for me? I thought I saw something that reminded me of your art work at one of the other booths, but then I saw your poster at Jack's booth and I just knew it! I asked him about the poster and he said that you were actually here!” Ashlynn says as you slowly take the pen from her.

“Y-yeah, I mean I made these for the guys as gifts, but then Mark came to me this morning and suggested selling them. I...I kind of just went with it.” you say laughing softy.

“That's so boss!” Ashlynn says smiling big. “I just...I never thought I'd meet you, you're a lot prettier than I had imagined.” You're not sure to take that as a complement or an insult so you remain silent. “I mean, not that I thought you were ugly, but I kind of imagined you'd be in sweats and a sweatshirt with alike a mess bun.” You laugh at that one.

“That's actually what I very similar to what I look like minus the sweat pants. I'm not a fan of socks, shoes, or pants in general.” you laugh. You converse with Ashlynn for quiet some time before wondering around the convention center together. You talk about your interests and converse with some of other artists, collectors, and entertainers before going back to Mark's table.

“Oh, there you are. Hey, our panel will start soon so we're going to head over to Hall B.” Mark says in greeting. You nod.

“Oh, gotcha. I'll be over shortly, I'm a little hungry so I was thinking to snag a few minutes to munch on some grub.” you say watching Mark nod.

“There'll be a seat waiting for ya when you arrive.” Mark promises as someone near the marked off doors calls for him. Mark waves to the person, nods, then tells you, “See you in Hall B.”

“Wouldn't miss it for the world.” you tell him with a wink before he chuckles and runs off. You turn to Ashlynn, noting her shocked expression. “What?” you ask a little off put by her expression.

“Dude, are you two dating?” she asks bending the ear of a few passerby.

Your face flames red. “No! Mark is just a friend, if that. He's just really personable.” you say not sure if you'd want to date the man. Sure, he's charismatic, charming, handsome, funny, sweet, caring...there is very little you can fault him on, but there isn't that spark that makes you want to jump him. “Here's what I mean; I don't know him all that well. He's very nice and I find him adorable and funny, but that's not all you base a relationship on. I respect him as an artist, as an entertainer, and as a human being. Once you get pass the face he's such a huge star, he's just a person with troubles and history.” you say, not meaning to sound like a rehearsed speech, but it's the truth.

You hate people blowing things out of proportion. It is possible to have a normal friendship type of relationship between woman and men. That is what you have with Mark and his friends. Whether the friendship will stand the test of time, which you doubt, has yet to be seen.

“Whoa, did you practice that in the mirror?” Ashlynn asks smirking at you.

“I wish. I could never that made that up beforehand. I'm a decent artist, but not a very good liar.” you say sighing. Ashlynn bids you goodbye and you go to gather your computer and tablet. Everything else you can replace, but it'd be difficult to replace your artwork saved to your laptop. Reaching for your water bottle you pause, there is a dark red, almost black rose sitting next to your bottle. There is no note or even a card, simply a rose.

Standing up you pick up the rose and look around. No one is watching you with intent interest and other than a few people stopping to look at the merchandise hanging up there isn't anyone that catches your eye.

“What a pretty rose, for such a lovely Lass.” you heard what sounds like Sean, but the tone is darker, distorted in a way.

“Oh, God, you scared me.” you say spinning around to see a AntiSepticEye cosplayer standing behind you. Placing a hand over your heart you close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Wow, your costume looks so authentic.” you say wanting to touch by know better. “That must have taken you hours to do.” you say admiring the realism with the slit around his throat. This cosplayer really, you mean, really looks like Sean.

“Oh, it took ages.” he responds smiling at you. His smile unsettles you a little and you take a step away from him without thinking about it. “I heard you're the girl to talk about regarding the posters.” the man says motioning to the poster to your right. You don't follow his gaze.

“Oh, ah, yeah, but I'm not the one selling them. You'll have to talk with Mindy over there if you'd like to buy one.” you say having an inkling this man is not a Mark fan. “JackSepticEye has his own version if you haven't see it. It has Anti on it too.” You tell him looking over to Sean's booth. He too has left for Hall B.

The Anti cosplayer nods, his eyes focused on your face. He smiles and you get the feeling it's meant to be reassuring, but it has an edge to it that doesn't sit right with you. Like when you see Dark... Actually, now that you really analyze your gut feeling this is the exact same feeling you get when Dark is around. It's the feeling of the Void. Is this truly the AntiSepticEye?

“Aye, lass, but I wished to commission a piece from you.” Anti says looking to the rose in your hand.

“Y-you do?” you ask trying to sound causal and failing. “I am currently taking commissions, but you have to make a submission for one. T-there is ah, a lot that I don't do and based on your desired overall look I give you a price and a timeline.” you say trying to stay in your business mode. Anti nods, his hand reaching out to brush a stray hair behind your ear.

“That sounds fair. How do I submit a request?” Anti asks stepping closer to you, crowding your space. You stare up into his eyes, watching as they change from blue to a possessed demon black.

“E... E-mail.” You tell him noticing for the first time he seemed to flicker around the edges of his frame.

Anti smiles at you, this one seems to be genuine and non-threatening as he reaches passed you, his chest brushing momentarily against your own before pulling away. “Expect a message from me lass, but as I had said before, such a pretty rose for such a lovely lass.” Anti says fixing your hair slightly, his hands making quick work of securing the rose.

“Ah...thank you...” you manage in a slight daze. If this is the real Anti, that means the reality of the alter egos doesn't just apply to Mark.

Anti smirks, leaning down he presses a kiss to your cheeks, and leaves. You watch him go, unsure if what just happened actually just happened. Your attention is pulled away when one of the event photographers calls out to you. You talk with the photographer dressed as Princess Peach before running off to Hall B to watch the panel, barely making it in time for the introductions.

Part 7

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leggiamo · 7 years

Text

Duplicity — Chapter XXVII

Life was quiet. I went to work, I put on a smile for my kids and my coworkers, and at the end of the day, I went home to release the anguish I hid from others. I was waiting for it to get easier, but I wasn’t sure it ever would. I thought that I prepared myself for the moment that it would all end, but evidently, I was nowhere near equipped for the pain.

For something so arbitrary, time has such a funny way of affecting our lives. I waited for it to pass—I needed, just this once, for it to disobey the rules that constrained it and speed up so that this feeling would leave me quicker. I wanted to be able to say that I survived the pain of giving up some of the most important things in my life.

Instead of getting easier, it only seemed to get harder. Days that I spent wondering when the pain would subside accumulated into weeks. Those weeks stacked up into months, and like a relentless downpour, the pain continued to wash over me each time I was alone.

I freed him because he needed to be free. I did the right thing for once and it left me irreparable.

Every night I fell asleep alone, wishing I could reach out and touch the empty space beside me and he would suddenly be there. I missed his scent lingering in the sheets. I missed waking up in the middle of the night and hearing his quiet snores go uninterrupted as I brushed his hair away from his forehead.

Aside from my demonstrations for the children, I found that I could neither sketch nor paint. Like him, my creativity was gone from my life like he was my muse and kept me going. I used to be able to close my eyes and see shapes and colors that I could transfer to a medium. Now, when I closed my eyes, all I saw were shades of grey and amorphous patches of black.

The color had gone from my beloved city as well. Memories projected like apparitions each time I walked the streets and wound up somewhere familiar. Even on the sunniest days, the city felt cold to me as if it were rejecting me. My home no longer welcomed me.

On the first month, I stopped wearing my rings on a chain when I was in public. By the fourth month, I stopped wearing my rings before I went to bed. They were safely tucked away in a jewelry box when I realized the only way it would get easier was if I learned to let go completely. My pity parties would have to stop.

And, so, when October came around, I finally accepted Joan’s offer to join him for a night out. Joan was tall and never let his red beard grow beyond stubble. Something about his slightly crooked front tooth made his smile seem charming yet familiar. I liked him because he was passionate about his work and didn’t try to get a scoop about my highly publicized.

“Oh,” he breathed once the door opened. “Wow.”

I chuckled before biting down on my lip with a smile. “What is it?”

“You are… I thought I had seen beauty in the world before now but I was wrong.”

“Oh, shut up,” I laughed. “I just need to grab a couple of things and I’ll be ready.”

I guided him into the small sitting area I called a living room. It took time to find this cozy little place. After that day, I didn’t move out immediately, which made it so much harder. We danced around each other, leaving rooms the other occupied, sleeping in rooms far apart, claiming different bathrooms.

There was one night, a single night, when things were different. A moment of being drunk off the joy of winning his first league title led to a night of confused complications where we celebrated together, our laughs and jokes genuine and our touches and gazes reminiscent of earlier days.

I looked at the jewelry box on my dresser and sighed before leaving the room. Joan had taken a seat and was scrolling through his phone when I returned.

“All ready.” He looked up from his phone and smiled, which I was happy to reciprocate.

When we made it outside, I raised a surprised brow at the classic import Joan decided to pull up in; I didn’t take him for a car enthusiast. “You like?” he asked when he noticed how I looked around once we were in the car.

“I haven’t been in a classic since…” I swallowed the bitter taste that built up in my mouth. “We pulled off in an E-Type on my wedding day,” I laughed through the pang of the recollection.

Joan cast a sad glance in my direction before turning back to the road. He lightened the mood with many years worth of jokes and amusing stories as he weaved through the streets. I enjoyed listening to him as the still warm air scented with the sea breeze blew through the open windows.

Joan’s tales only continued between moments of getting to know more about me as we sat across from each other. Conversing with him throughout dinner was effortless. For that moment while we ate and conversed, I didn’t feel like my world was collapsing.

Our conversation lulled as Joan picked at what was left on his plate and I reached for my drink. I watched a quintet of men carrying instrument cases meander through the tables as I took slow sips of the basil and rum-infused punch. The straw fell from my lips as I watched curiously as they set up on a small stage in the back of the dining room. Other patrons also seemed to be interested as the leader plucked his reed from his mouth to introduce himself and the quartet behind him.

“Thought you might like enjoy this,” said Joan right as the emcee played a riff on his saxophone.

A slight smile upturned my lips as I listened to the band play swing covers of modern songs, as well as original pieces, livening the atmosphere of the dining room.

The marriage of the piano and drums to the bass, brass, and woodwind left me fidgeting in my seat. My toe tapped in time with the infectious rhythms as the music flowed through me. I heard Joan chuckle as he wiped his sip of beer from his upper lip.

He spoke over the music, “Looks like you want to dance.” His raise of an accusatory brow wrinkled his forehead.

“If you get tequila in my system I just might.”

“Now, Ms. Indigo, that sounds like something that might get me into trouble,” he chuckled.

“Only if you let it, Mister Joan.” I dragged out ‘Mister Joan’ and pressed my elbows onto the table, leaning in just a little closer. “Besides, a bit of trouble might be fun.”

I winked as I stood from my seat and sauntered off to the find the toilets. I hadn’t realized I was smiling until I took a look at myself in the mirror as I washed my hands. It was hard to remember the last time I genuinely laughed or enjoyed myself in the way I had been tonight. There was a war brewing in the back of my mind, however, as I tried to stop myself from comparing this to my first date with Cesc. I had to remind myself that this wasn’t the same; this was genuinely two people enjoying a friendly night out.

I wasn’t ready to put myself out there like that again. It was much too soon.

Before leaving, I did a bit of primping just to touch up what was wiped away while I ate and to boost my confidence. When I pulled open the dark wood door, my smile fell from my face.

Everything around me faded away including the music, which gradually became quieter as if I was walking further away from its source. All the pain, all of my memories—everything I had been fighting to push aside for tonight came rushing back to me. I suddenly felt too hot, too exposed, as the small hallway began to blur as vertigo sent the world violently spinning around me.

Suddenly, going out had become a mistake.

It was all there, written on his face for the quickest of moments before it was gone. The sound of my name coming from his mouth was too much to handle.

“—I thought that was you—”

I remained paralyzed as I stared at him leaning against the wall, his mouth moving but none of the words making sense. My trance was broken when someone walked between us, and I used the interruption to escape him and everything that I saw tucked away in his blues. I was sure that I heard him call my name again, but I didn’t stop; I had to get back to the table and hope that my smile was convincing enough so Joan wouldn’t probe for information.

“Got you that tequila.” He pointed to a salt-rimmed double shot glass sitting on a small square plate.

My heart was still racing as I sat down and reached for the glass. Joan watched in wonderment as I downed the entire shot. I could feel the burn of the alcohol tear at my throat as it traveled downward and warmed my chest. I wagged my head and looked out at some of the people that had gotten up to dance.

I forced a laugh. “I’m ready to dance now. As long as you can keep up, of course.”

His hand covered his heart. “Did you just imply that the music teacher couldn’t keep up?”

I laughed more genuinely but it was still rather weak. After a quick, final swig of his drink, Joan stood and held his hand out for me to take so that he could lead me out to a clearing in the room and make me back up my words.

Unsurprisingly, he kept up with me and showed me some moves that I hadn’t known. I got a good look at the pretty shade of green in his eyes when he pulled me back into him after twirling me outward. Dancing with him actually made me laugh out loud as I enjoyed myself.

“This is perfect,” I uttered as we swayed, catching our breaths, during a break in the music. “I should’ve known you’d take me to a jazz bar.”

His smile was pearly white. “What can I say? I’m a bit of a classic man. And I might have wanted to show you off just a little bit.”

My face felt flush when I remembered that only a few other couples were dancing along with us, but I continued trying to dance it away. The rest of my surroundings became blurred as we did spins and turns and rapid footwork. At one point, our foreheads briefly touched as I wrapped my leg around his thigh and leaned into his hand as I dipped.

“That tequila works wonders on you, I see,” he chuckled as I came back up.

I closed my eyes and exhaled through my nose as our foreheads touched again. “I haven’t had a night out like this in ages. I’m just enjoying myself.”

“I can definitely see that. I’m enjoying you enjoying yourself.”

We both laughed and I let my eyes flutter open. Our movements were still at our own pace, set apart from everyone else. Dancing became something else, something a little more intimate but not necessarily romantic or sexual. It was something between two people who were trying to get to know each other better without any real end goal. I wanted to be free for just one night and this was helping.

“You mind letting a pretty little lady like myself crash at yours?”

His brow lifted. “I don’t usually take strange women home.”

“So I’m a strange woman now?”

He lifted his hand and brought his thumb and index finger so close together that they were almost touching. “Just a little.” He licked his lips and smiled. “So, you want to see my place so soon?”

“Why not? We’re both consenting adults, aren’t we?” He laughed at something he saw behind me—a surprised face, I assumed—as he placed his hands on my hips and guided them in snaking motions. “You don’t wanna cuddle with me?” I teased.

“Hmm… not sure about that one.” His voice was soft in my ear.

“Oh, please.” I pressed closer to him. “I know you’ve been dreaming about it since I started working at the center.”

He gripped me tighter and moved with me. “I’ve had plenty of dreams but none of them actually involved cuddling.”

“Oh, ho ho,” I laughed scandalously. “Are classic men allowed to be so naughty?”

I looked over Joan’s shoulder before he pulled me back in after spinning away from me. I couldn’t stop myself.

He was at a table in the distance, staring out over the petite body of a blonde sitting across from him, facing away from me. As we stared at each other, I wondered how long he had been watching. I felt that ache but I couldn’t look away, and now that he knew I saw him watching, neither could he.

Joan spun us around, breaking me free of the trance that I was in. I could still feel him staring at me, taking in the view of my backside as I moved with the music.

“So is a sleepover out of the question or not?”

My partner wet his lips. “Are you the one having trouble keeping up now? Two more songs and I’ll give you the grand tour of my place.”

A flash of a smile spread across his face when I agreed to let him flaunt me and his move through two more songs. When our performance was up, we returned to the table so he could pay and to grab our things. When we were all sorted, I followed close behind as he led the way out, my smile gradually fading. Once we were outside, I stood off to the side and waited for Joan to bring the car around.

“Indigo.” I heard his voice again. I shook my head and refused to turn around. “Indi,” he called softly.

I bit down on my lip at the first sign of the slightest tremble. My chest felt tight, an all too familiar feeling I’d been experiencing for months.

“You’re just going to ignore me, then?”

I turned my head and caught his silhouette in my periphery. “Gerard—”

“He misses you, Indi.”

My mouth went dry. “You miss me or he misses me?”

“I’m trying to move on—” He looked around. “Are you seeing that guy now?”

“What do you want Gerard?” I faced him completely, unable to contain the myriad emotions running through me. “Why—”

He pulled me out of view, into the shadows of the restaurant, away from probing eyes. I wanted to collapse and cry out. I wanted to push him away and fight him off, but I simply slumped in his arms, the joy that I was feeling earlier quickly escaping me.

“Gerard,” I whimpered. His shirt wrinkled in my grip and he said nothing, he did nothing, as I continued to whimper . “Why didn’t you just let me leave? Go back inside with whoever—”

“He misses you—fuck, you already know that I miss you but I can’t—” He pressed his lips together and looked above me, scanning the area around us. “A bunch of us went out and you already know he can’t hold a drink,” he sighed. “He must’ve forgotten… he told me that you just up and disappeared—”

“I did what?”

He shrugged. “He said you were gone when he woke up in the morning. You left without saying anything.”

I scoffed and shook my head. Why would he say it like I abandoned him?

“I ended our marriage. I had to—”

He ran his hand up and down my back, something that was still so comforting despite our time apart and despite all the pain that I felt.

“It doesn’t matter. He just told me that you left. He woke up and you were gone with barely anything but some signed divorce papers left behind. I never expected you to leave—” He breathed a laugh then bit down on his lip and furrowed his brows. He looked down at me before cautiously continuing, “He told me about the women—some of them. He’s not the same, Indi. He’s different. He mentioned your name once and his eyes just—he needs to see you.”

I shook my head. I couldn’t get the image of him and another woman—other women—together. He was doing all that he could in order to get over me and I was afraid it was breaking him. It was turning him into something that he wasn’t and I didn’t know what to do.

We couldn’t be together again; he deserved a real chance at happiness with someone who wouldn’t take him for granted. I was afraid that seeing him would break me, but most of all I was afraid that it would break him all over again.

“We need to be apart in order to heal. You’re ruining that—”

“I’m sorry.” He held me at an arm's length and used his thumb to wipe my cheek dry. “I just saw you in there and I felt something—”

I looked away from him as I reached into my clutch for my vibrating phone. “Hey.”

“Uh, are you okay? Where’d you wander off to?” he asked worriedly.

“Sorry, I’ll be over in just a second.”

I ended the call and finally looked Gerard in the face. There was a blatant sadness in his eyes and a distant look of longing hidden amongst that sea of blue. A pang somewhere deep inside me forced me to look away.

“I have to go.”

“Remember what I said, Indigo,” he called as I walked away.

Joan was sitting in his car waiting for me. A look of relief washed over his face when he realized I was the one knocking on his window. He was all smiles as I settled into the passenger’s seat.

“Everything okay?” he asked carefully.

I nodded. “Of course.”

He opened his mouth but paused for a moment. His eyes flickered to the side and then back to me. “Are you sure? I just couldn’t help but notice that Gerard Piqué is standing out there looking like he wants to walk over here and say some very intense words to me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said quickly. “Just drive, please.”

He frowned and nodded. “As you wish.”

Gerard and I watched one another as Joan pulled away. I didn’t know what I expected or even wanted to happen once I reached Joan’s, but I knew that I needed just one moment to try and subdue what I was feeling.

I woke up beside Joan, his arm around my waist, the both of us atop his covers and fully clothed. He is as good a listener as he is a cuddler.

The entire mood of our night shifted once we were in his car. Flirting ceased and joking didn’t happen; a word barely passed between us until we were sitting in his kitchen drinking cups of coffee. He opened up first about his girlfriend of four years leaving him out of the blue. I told him Gerard and I go back a ways and that he was trying to act as a lone liaison between me and my ex. Naturally, Joan recognized that my ex was Cesc, but he made no comments.

I sighed and patted the back of Joan’s hand before pulling his arm off of me and sliding off the bed. I sought out the bathroom, and when I was done, I trekked back to the kitchen to pick up my phone. I didn’t really expect to see many notifications, but what I especially didn’t expect to see was a missed call and voicemail from Cesc.

It had to be pure coincidence.

I was willing to think that it was a mistake, a misdial, but once my shaky fingers were able to find my voice mailbox, I saw the message was much too long to just have been a mistake.

I sat down and pressed play before bringing my phone up to my face. My heartbeat was in my ears as I heard nothing but silence. After a few seconds, there was movement and then there he was.

“Hey—” The sound of his voice, so scratchy from a lack of sleep made my heart race. Every inch, every single tiny molecule that made up my existence missed hearing his voice and yearned for him in that moment. “I, um, I know it’s late. I know we haven’t spoken in so long but I... I don’t know. I just had an urge to call you. I’ve had it for a while but I never found the nerve until now.

“You’re probably sleeping, or you just watched this ring because you couldn’t or—or you didn’t want to answer and I don’t blame you for that. I guess I was just hoping to hear your voice even though I probably wouldn’t have had anything to say, so this is probably for the best, isn’t it?

“You don’t have to call me back. To be honest with you, I probably won’t pick up anyway. I couldn’t pick up. There’s been so much going on that I just—I guess I just miss you even though I really shouldn’t—” There was a long pause and a muffled sniffling noise. It was faint but I could hear him curse to himself. “I’ll be signing those papers for you. I wish you—”

He reached the time limit and probably didn’t even feel bothered to call again and continue what he had to say in another message. This one was more than enough for him; it was more than he could handle.

I was shaking by the time I set my phone back down on the table. I wanted to know what he was trying to say, but I was afraid to call him back. He didn’t sound it, but he must have been drunk. There was no other explanation for him deciding to call me out of the blue. Him having one drink too many was especially more plausible than him reaching out because Gerard told him that he saw me.

I stared off into space for a while, fully aware of each tear that I shed. Something he said just wouldn’t stop repeating in my head. After all this time, he still hadn’t signed the divorce papers that I left for him. He had them and held onto them for what reason? I left my signature so that he could move the process along and be rid of me, but he hadn’t done anything with them. What was he waiting for?

I hiccupped and sniffled quietly as I picked my phone up again and found my call history. My thumb hovered above his name and I almost pressed it. Ultimately, I couldn’t bring myself to call him.

It didn’t matter what Gerard said; Cesc needed the distance. Being apart from me was the best thing for him. He deserved happiness and freedom and so much more than to love an unfaithful joke of a woman.

I turned my phone off altogether and returned to Joan’s room to find him still fast asleep. It felt strange as I crawled back to him and wrapped his arm around me, but for the moment, it made me feel safe; It made it all go away.

“You okay?” he asked sleepily.

“Yeah, go back to sleep. I’m fine.”

I wasn’t fine, but he didn’t need to know that. I closed my eyes and struggled to find sleep again. After struggling for five minutes, I turned around and snuggled in closer to Joan, hoping the comfort of being this close to another person would help me just the slightest bit.

Joan cleared his throat and sleepily asked, “You want to talk about it?”

I blinked as I considered talking it out. The t-shirt that he changed into sometime during the night felt soft against my forehead as I kept it pressed against his chest. He still smelled slightly of the cologne he wore and the combination of it and being this close to him calmed me. It felt as if we had known each other all along.

“My ex called me,” I whispered.

“Oh.” He tried his best to embrace me, which meant pressing me against him and squeezing me with the arm he had draped over me. “What did he say?”

I closed my eyes. His voice was still clear as day.

“He misses me. He called just because he had the urge to. Until now, he hadn’t even signed the divorce papers.”

“Shit,” Joan remarked. Just one word fully conveyed his sympathy and surprise. He needn’t say anything more.

I nodded. “I want to believe that he was drunk leaving me a drunk message, but when he’s drunk he speaks in fragments. Those were all complete sentences that came from somewhere full of pain. When does it get easier?”

I rested my hand on his chest, my fingers clawed as I ran them over the fabric covering his skin. He paused as he mulled over his answer, leaving a quietness to settle that was only penetrated by the sound of his gentle breaths. Before he opened his mouth, his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“Honestly? I don’t know. For me, once that second or third month hit, I missed her a little less and less each day. That was only because I turned that hurt into anger. I thought that if I could be angry then I would be getting over it. I wasn’t. I still thought of her every time a song she loved played, or when I would do something that she used to scold me for like burp loudly.

“I realized that being angry was just another form of hurt that I didn’t let go of until like the sixth month. It might have been earlier than that, but that was when I walked into your classroom for the first time to observe you and I realized that she was no longer on my mind. How could I possibly allow myself to stay hung up on someone who clearly wasn’t meant for me when someone like you exists?”

I laughed, though I didn’t feel uplifted. “You really know how to ruin a moment, don’t you?”

“It made you laugh though, didn’t it?” he chuckled. “So, are you going to call him?”

“I shouldn’t—”

“Look—” He made sure to back away just enough so that he could move his arm and place a finger under my chin. The touch was enough to make me angle my head so that we could see each other’s faces; a comforting smile softened his. “—it’s really not my place, but we’re already here so I might as well. I don’t know the full details and I don’t need to, but if what you’re doing right now isn’t working for either of you, maybe it’s time to try something else to get that closure you need. He called you for a reason so find out what that reason was.”

I stared at his lips as he spoke because I didn’t want him to see the vulnerability in my eyes. He could probably still see it written all over my face anyway. I wanted to be able to let go, but something in me was still holding on as tightly as it could.

“Why do I feel like I’ve known you forever?” I muttered more to myself than to him.

“Maybe we’re actually soulmates finally reunited in this life,” he said in jest.

My eyes closed as I smiled and let my head rest against his chest once more. There was a time when I entertained the idea of my soulmate being out there, and I truly thought I had found mine until I realized that I was wrong.

#duplicity #still chugging along

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