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heliads · 3 years

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Goodbye in C Minor

Luke Patterson was dating this incredible girl, Y/N, until he died along with Alex and Reggie. Now that he’s been stuck in the present day, he doesn’t know how to move on from the girl he left behind in the 90s.

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A girl leans against an open doorway. She takes in the band playing around her, the black and white Sunset Curve banners streaked with color. Her eyes flash over all members of the band in turn, but they tend to linger on the lead singer, a boy with a shock of brown hair and enough passion for an entire band of his own.

In fact, he doesn’t even notice that the girl has arrived until the song ends and he looks up, finally snapped out of his reverie. Instantly, a smile shoots across his face and he jogs over to her, unslinging his guitar strap from around his shoulders and setting the instrument down on a nearby stand. He picks her up and twirls her around in the air. The girl laughs, and her eyes meet his again once her feet touch back down on the ground.

One of the boys from the band shouts something to her from across the studio, his voice hopeful. “Did you bring us lunch?” The girl turns to face them, attention finally diverted from her boyfriend. She holds up a plastic bag full of boxed containers. “I did! Takeout, hope you don’t mind. And yes, Bobby, some are vegetarian.” A light-haired boy, Alex, does a silent fist pump. “You’re the best, Y/N. Honestly.”

Y/N hands the bag of food over to the hungry bandmates, and all except one hurriedly dig in. Luke stays, interlacing his fingers with Y/N’s. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.” Y/N waves his concern away. “I absolutely did. You’ve gotten me into the Orpheum for your upcoming show, the least I can do is make sure you’re all properly fed. If I can’t help with music, I can at least help with this.”

Luke grins. “Trust me, I think the food is the best thing ever. By the way, Reggie wants me to tell you that we’ll invite you to every show on the planet if it means he keeps getting free lunch. Although technically you don’t have to worry about that- I want you by my side every step of the way, lunch or no lunch.” Y/N laughs. “That’s one of the most romantic things I’ve heard all week. Maybe you should put that into a new song. ‘I’ll love you even if you don’t bring me takeout.’”

Luke pouts, and Y/N giggles at his mock sadness. “I’m kidding. Mostly.” Luke leans forward to kiss Y/N. “You had better be.” From across the room, Alex yells something at them. “If you guys keep making out in the middle of practice we’re going to ban you from the studio.” Y/N waves her hand at him. “I brought you food, you can’t ban me! I’m too important to the future of the band.” Reggie shrugs. “She’s right, you know. We might starve.” Alex swats him on the shoulder, and Y/N turns back to Luke with a slight smile.

“I can’t believe you’re playing at the Orpheum in a week. That’s so exciting!” Luke nods fervently. “Sometimes it doesn’t even feel real. Like I’ll wake up and find out we were actually booked to some other place, not the actual Orpheum.” Y/N smiles at him. “You’re going to do great, and that’s final. I can’t wait to see you guys perform.” Luke absentmindedly runs his fingers over Y/N’s knuckles, tapping out the beats of half-written songs. “I know we’ll do great. I’ve got my muse. All of my songs are about you, you know that.” Y/N raises an eyebrow. “Even ‘My Name is Luke?’” Luke groans. “Okay, maybe not that one. Almost all of my songs are about you. How about that?” Y/N beams at her boyfriend. “That sounds perfect.”

Luke jolts back to reality. He’s still standing in that same studio, but he’s back to the present day. He’s not in the 90s anymore, and it’s been decades since he was writing songs with Sunset Curve, preparing to take on the Orpheum for the first time. He’s standing in the exact same place as that one memory, when he’d been talking to her. They’d both been so happy, so exhilarated at the prospect of Sunset Curve’s Orpheum performance. Neither of them had known that Luke, Alex, and Reggie would die that night, permanently taking Luke away from everything he knew best. Away from her.

There’s a slight motion next to him, and Luke freezes before remembering that he’s not alone in the studio. Alex has just walked up beside him, although his friend’s gaze softens when he sees the troubled look on Luke’s face. “You’re thinking about her, aren’t you? You’re thinking about Y/N.” Luke sighs. “Yeah. I just- I can’t believe that all this time had passed. She isn’t here with us, and she didn’t eat those street dogs, so she must not have died. That means she grew up and she’s probably older now. I don’t know what to think about that.”

Alex nods slowly, placing his hand on Luke’s shoulder in a show of comfort. “We left so much behind that it’s hard to think about. If you ever want anyone to talk to, you know we’re all here. Julie too, although that might be more of a difficult conversation.” Luke blows out a slow breath. “That’s the problem. Things are going so well with Julie and the new band and everything that I feel like I should be happier, and I am, and then-” His voice trails off. Alex finishes the sentence for him. “And then you remember what life used to be like.”

Luke walks over to a photo tacked onto the wall. Julie had found some old snapshots of Sunset Curve and set them out in the studio. They were nice to see, but sometimes they tended to hurt instead of inspiring fond memories. One in particular catches his eye- the band and a couple of friends, mere hours before the Sunset Curve show at the Orpheum. It’s a faded Polaroid, showing a group of beaming teenagers pointing up at the Orpheum’s sign glowing in neon lights above them. Look what we’re about to do, they seem to say, look what we never got to finish.

Luke’s eye strays on the far right corner. He’s standing there, arm wrapped around a girl. Y/N. They’re both smiling, although in this shot neither of them are looking at the camera. Instead, they’re both turned towards each other, as if delighted by the simple fact that both of them are together. Luke remembers the details of that night in perfect clarity. They’d all arrived at the Orpheum and taken the photo, and then the boys had headed back to begin their sound checks. Y/N had watched them perform, making friends with a girl who worked at the venue. Rose, who Luke now knows is Julie’s mother.

Y/N always had this easy way of making friends. One smile, a few words, and it was like she’d known a stranger all their life. She and Rose had both cheered when Sunset Curve had finished their warmups, and then looked down at her watch in surprise. She’d said something about how she had to run and do some final checks with the venue staff, and she’d be right back. Y/N had kissed Luke quickly before dashing out the door with a promise that she’d be back in a second. Luke, Alex, and Reggie had disappeared down the block to get some street dogs. By the time Y/N had gotten back, papers and signatures held triumphantly in her hand, it was too late.

Luke doesn’t know what happened after that. He’s not positive that Y/N was there when he died, maybe arriving a few minutes after the fact. He’s not sure if that makes it better or not- although she’d be furious with herself for not being there to save him, Luke knows there was nothing she could have done. Would it have hurt more to be next to him, unable to do anything but watch as he breathed his last, or to have missed the entire thing? He supposes Y/N has had years to think the issue over.

Luke turns away from the photograph. His legs are itching to take him away, his heart racing to find something to do. The band doesn’t have practice today, so there’s nothing to distract him from the awful loneliness beating against his chest. He has to do something to get away from all of this, from the memories and the photographs and the knowledge that he had left the girl he loved behind and there was nothing to do to get her back. Luke mumbles something to Alex about how he’s going to take a walk, then poofs out of the studio, no clear destination in mind.

Luke reappears in the middle of a path. At first, he’s not quite sure where he is. There’s a line of pavement under his feet, leading away in front of him. Spring green boughs wave overhead, framing the way before him. The trees eventually clear out to form a clearing, and only then does Luke realize where he is. It’s the local cemetery, the place where all of Luke’s family have been buried. The place where surely he, too, lies at rest. His head must have some twisted sense of humor to bring him here.

Luke wavers one last moment, then decides to take off down the path. He’s never actually visited his own grave, as it seemed too morbid an activity to actually set out and do, but if he’s already here he might as well see it. There’s some sort of curiosity affixed to seeing your own headstone, weird as that may be, and at least now he can glance at it once and forget about it.

Luke passes between the long lines of gravestones, reading through the names. It’s late afternoon, and there’s almost nobody here at all. At least, there isn’t anybody here except one woman, who’s crouching before a headstone in the middle of the cemetery. On second thought, she appears to be around the place where Luke’s family is buried. As he walks over, he realizes that this woman is actually next to his grave.

She’s speaking quietly. “Nothing much happened today, but it’s a Saturday, so I had to drop by anyway.” Her head drops. “You’ve been gone for 25 years. Can you believe that? 25. I miss you still.” A bittersweet smile cracks her lips, and Luke’s heart twists at the pain in her voice. “I have children now. They’re just beginning to enter double digits. At some point, they’ll be older than you. I wish you could have met them, Luke. I think you’d like them a lot.”

Luke’s head flies up when she says his name. The way she said it sounded so familiar, like he’s heard this woman before. Like he knows her, and knows her very well. The woman freezes slightly- she must have seen his small motion out of the corner of her eye. But that doesn’t make sense, because lifers aren’t supposed to see ghosts like Luke. Yet the woman still stands, lightly brushing dirt off of her legs. “Sorry, I’ll get out of your way. Didn’t see you there.”

The woman turns to face Luke, and her eyes widen. She stands for a moment, staring, and then her voice comes again, faltering and weak. “Luke?” She looks away from him, studying her own hands as if expecting them to be ghostly and translucent. “But you’re dead. How can you be here- Am I dead?” Luke shakes his head. “No, you’re not dead. I mean, I am, but I’m a, uh, ghost. You’re not a ghost. At least I don’t think so.” Luke’s voice trails off when the woman looks at him again. When she’s finally turned towards him, her face seems so familiar. It takes him a moment, and then he realizes who she is. “Y/N.”

It has to be her. There’s no way around it. Indeed, the second her name passes through his lips he knows it’s true. The Y/N standing before him is far older now, maybe in her late thirties or early forties. That would make sense, wouldn’t it? They were teenagers when he died, and if it’s been 25 years since then, she would have to be older. A slight lump forms in Luke’s throat. What would it have been like if he hadn’t died? Would he have been like this too? Would they have grown old together?

Y/N rubs a hand over her face as if in shock. “This makes no sense. I mean, you sound just like yourself and everything but-” Luke laughs quietly. “But ghosts aren’t real.” Y/N gestures loosely with her hand. “Exactly.” Her eyes flicker over him again, taking in every detail of his face as if committing it to memory. This small action itself is so strange to see- Luke remembers Y/N doing this at shows and practices, and it doesn’t feel right to see this similarity in a version of Y/N that is so much older, especially when Luke himself is still a teenager.

Luke’s voice is quiet. “Do you always visit my grave?” Y/N nods. “Every other Saturday. I think your mom and dad come all the time too. I try to give them some space.” She looks back at him, as if she can understand what he’s thinking. “We haven’t moved on so easily. There was a time right after you died when I thought we never would. I didn’t see how the earth could keep turning without my boys. And then the years kept passing by, and although the pain never got any easier we learned how to be happy too, how to keep the grief but remember you with brighter memories instead.”

She smiles, although her eyes are tinged with pain. “I’m married now.” She holds up her hand, and Luke’s gaze is drawn to the ring on her finger. “I think you’d like him a lot. We have two children, a boy and a girl. They know your parents well, we get together all the time. They supported me when I was in over my head, they pulled me out of a well when I was drowning in grief. I check in on them, and they check in on me. We were trying to do right by you.”

Luke feels like his legs are about to collapse underneath him. To see Y/N like this, so much older and calmer, feels like an earthquake tearing him apart. He doesn’t know why, but some part of him had almost assumed that she wouldn’t grow old either, that if he looked hard enough he could find her and they could be the same again. He knows now that he was wrong, although the sight of Y/N is still so reflexively exhilarating that he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Luke forces himself to speak. “Are you- are you happy? Now, with your family?” Y/N nods, a radiant smile breaking out across her face. “I’m incredibly happy. Things are good now, and they’re going to keep being good for a very long time.” She looks at him, seeing the questions he’s too afraid to ask. “I’m sorry that things happened the way they did. I would have liked nothing more than to see you shine on that stage and have your star career the way that we always planned. I have a feeling that you’ve got a new chance now, a way to move on. I’d take it. You’ve always been able to stay on your feet and keep running forward. Don’t let that go.”

Luke nods. “Thank you, Y/N.” They exchange their goodbyes and then Luke disappears back into the trees. After a moment or two of walking, he poofs back into the studio. Luke walks on leaden limbs towards his songwriting notebook, flinging it open and reaching for a pencil. He turns to one page in particular, a song he’d begun writing for Y/N a few days before their performance at the Orpheum. He changes some lines, adds new chords, transposes the song from a major to a minor key. He doesn’t know how long he sits there, but when he looks up at last, the song is finished.

The title sits at the top, a blurry gray after recent erasings. ‘Goodbye in C Minor.’ The beautiful start to a love he never got to see through.

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson imagines #jatp #jatp imagine #jatp x reader #jatp imagines #jatp oneshot #luke patterson oneshot #jatp luke #jatp luke imagine #jatp luke x reader #jatp luke imagines #jatp luke oneshot

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the-sympathetic-villain · 3 years

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I Know What You’re Going To Say - Chapter 3

AO3 | First | Previous | Next | Masterpost

Description: A Beauty and the Beast style Vampire AU. Vampire!Virgil has picked up Logan off the street and is holding him captive under the threat of killing his friends if he tries to escape.

Word Count: 4275

Chapter Warning: Mentions of Parental Neglect/Control, Mind Control, Crying, Corruptions, Mentions of Police (Let me know if I missed anything!)

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Janus stirred the coffee in front of him quietly as he peered out the window of the decrepit all-night diner. He felt a tightness welling in his chest as he traced back the night's events that had somehow ended with him here. Rain pattered on the window. Each wet streak glowing with the reflections of the bright pink, neon signs that the owners had seen fit to hang on nearly every surface of this godawful place. His lips twitched with disgust as he glanced down at his watch, checking the time yet again as he stared down the near empty streets.

The kid was late. Ten minutes. The simple thought made his stomach twist with anxiety. After leaving Virgil, finding his prisoner’s friend had been almost comically easy. Virgil had his home address. A quick flight had him peering through the man's windows in under half an hour, but the passing glance he'd gotten was enough for him to guess where man had gone.

He was already half the way down the street when a message from Virgil confirmed that the man’s work address. Less than an hour after leaving Virgil, he was being served by the very man he for which he'd been searching. Janus smirked at the simplicity, humming to himself contentedly as yet another car swept by outside sending wave of dirty water onto the curb.

Still, Janus could hardly complain. Virgil had certainly sent him on worse missions, and though the dingy, over-lit diner was an eyesore, the man serving him was putting on quite the show as he flitted between the glistening, chrome surface of the bar. The subtle eyeliner flared to a perfect point as winked at the cook through the serving window.

Janus smiled, eyes lingering a bit too long on the handsome waiter as he distracted himself from the empty streets outside. Truly, he was grateful for the late night hours as the lack of customers meant minimal effort for him to keep prying eyes away from his all to recognizable face. Being a vampire had its perks, after all. On a mere whim, the other customer’s gazes slipped over him like he was a mere shadow. Only the charming waiter he was currently staring had been allowed to catch a glimpse of him sitting alone in the booth.

The waited with the golden hair had immediately recognized him upon bouncing up to the table to take his order, but fortunately, the guy didn’t seem to be the squealing type. A note which Janus would very much be filing away for later as he watched the man melt under his control. It had only taken a few, short words to make the man forget he had recognized Janus and hand over his phone.

Janus bit his lip at the memory. The sight of the flamboyant waiter suddenly soured in his mouth as he remembered why he was here. The texts he’d read on the man's phone had indicated the kid was supposed to be here at midnight. His eyes flicked up to the retro-looking clock as it read a quarter past the hour. From the texts he’d gleaned that the kid's parents had reluctantly agreed to drop the kid off with his starry-eyed server, Roman, but the mystery of the late-night hand-off had not been resolved by the golden boy's texts.

Janus tapped his fingernails on the cheap plastic tabletop as the golden boy himself glanced up at clock above the bar nervously. He stared curiously as his façade of nonchalance broke for the first time, revealing the underlying anxiety brewing behind the sweet smile. Janus blinked as the man disappeared behind the bar, allowing his attention to drift back to the rain-soaked window once more. He stirred his coffee absently as watched the glowing headlights rush past.

The rain had slowed to a light drizzle, barely obscuring the hazy view of the streets outside. He'd almost turned back to watch the golden boy when a slim black car caught Janus’ attention. The sleek, tinted windows of the strange car stood out among the tattered, worn down streets. Janus sat up straight as the car pulled up next to the curb and the back door popped open to reveal the reddish-brown hair of the kid he'd been waiting for.

Not a moment was spared on goodbyes. The kid immediately bound to the door of the diner, slamming the car door behind him. Janus didn’t see that it mattered however, as the car was gone before the kid even made it to the door. He let out a soft breath, turning to watch as the golden boy gleefully rush to the door with a slightly manic look in his eyes.

The interaction should have filled Janus with relief. Seeing the kid in the man’s arms meant the most difficult part of his job was done. All he had to do now is watch the kid for a few days, but something about the simple interaction he'd just watched set him on edge.

Janus’ tension only seemed to ease as he watched the golden boy sweep the boy up into his arms, whispering to him in hushed tones. They stayed like that for a solid minute, before the bouncing waiter finally started to drag the kid to a booth. A few moments later, they were walking towards his booth and his former human instincts and he averted his gaze. Logically, he knew their gaze would pass over him, but the compulsion to be polite seemed to be far stronger in his brain.

“Where’s your coat, Pat?” The man whispered as he guided the kid into the seat behind him.

“He—uh, he didn't let me take it.”

The kid’s mumble was almost incoherent as the man stopped abruptly next to the booth, staring as the kid slid onto the vinyl seat behind him.

“What?”

There was a long pause as the golden boy stared down at the kid. Janus could almost feel the heat in the kids cheeks as he squirmed behind him. “He said, if I thought I was an adult, I could act like it—and my stuff would be waiting when I came to my senses and went back.”

“What a goddamn asshole, Pat.” The golden boy whispered in disbelief. Immediately, he seemed to backtrack until the kid interrupted him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t swear in front of y—"

“They also said some nasty things about Lo before I left.” The kid's voice trembled as he tapped on the cheap plastic table

“It wasn't true. Whatever they said, Logan has done nothing but care about you.” The golden boy's deep voice reassured him. “He has everything set up. You won't have to worry about a thing.”

“I know. I just—”

Janus' heart twisted with guilt at sadness in the kid’s voice.

“Where is—"

“Listen, I'm going to grab my jacket for you, Starlight. You’re absolutely shivering. I'll be—” The man stopped him abruptly. “I’ll be right back. Okay?”

“Okay, Ro.”

Ice seized Janus' heart at the confused tone of the kid's and he jerked his head around to watch the golden boy’s head disappear behind the bar.

He doesn’t know his brother is missing.

The realization hit Janus like a brick wall as he glanced over his shoulder at the back of the kid’s head. His shoulders were slumped as he leaned forward to fidget with the basket of sugar in front of him. Janus blinked as he turned around, barely able to process what was happening. As he slunk back into his seat, Janus slowly pulled his phone out of his pocket and pulled up Virgil in his phone.

J: Got eyes on the kid.

V: he's safe?

J: He's fine I think.

V: what does that mean?

J: Kid doesn’t know his brother’s missing, Vee.

V: what

V: wait how close are you?

A sudden, sweeping motion in his periphery caught Janus’ attention and he turned his head to see the golden boy making his way back in their direction.

V: Jan what's happening?

J: Update later.

Janus bit his lip guiltily as he typed the quick response, shoving his phone back in his pocket. His phone immediately buzzed a response. He turned his head, casually reaching into his pocket to silence his phone as he watched the pretty waiter make his way back to the table. The man was effortlessly balancing three plates on top of carrying the jacket he had swung over his arm. He moved quickly across the room and only stopping to gracefully slide the plate across the table to the kid and throw the jacket at him.

“Eat up, Pat.” The charismatic waiter’s voice almost seemed deflated now. His tension seemed to release now that the kid was here, replaced by a much more somber tone. “I'm taking off early tonight so we can get you to sleep at a decent time.”

“Where’s—”

“—I'll be back in a minute to grab you.” Janus’ stomach tightened as the golden boy tactfully brushed off the kid’s question. “Hopefully the rain will let up for the walk home not to be a miserable affair. I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Okay.” The kid whispered, sounding a little deflated.

“Hey, don't be like that.” The waiter's incredibly charming voice echoed in his ear from behind him. Janus could feel a scuffle in the booth behind him as the waiter ruffled the kid's hair. “It’s good to see you here, Starlight, but please just try to cut me a little slack tonight.”

“Sorry. I promise to be patient.” The kid’s shy whisper shook slightly as if taken off guard by the waiter’s light reprimand. “Thanks again for letting us stay with you, Ro.”

“You don't ever have to apologize to me, Starlight.” The golden boy seemed to tense slightly at the kid's change in demeanor. “Even if it weren’t for Logan, my door is always open to you. You’re family, kid.”

Janus heart twisted at the bittersweet sentiment. This kid really had no idea what was going on and Janus wasn’t even sure the server planned on telling him. Stirring his coffee absently, images of the kid's brother tied tightly in Virgil’s binds flashed through the front of his mind. His eyes flicked to the side as the waiter backed away from the table, still talking with poor child.

Soon, the server returned to his duties, leaving a heavy silence hanging over him. A bitter taste settled into the back of Janus' throat as his thoughts fell into a dark spiral. Virgil could be feeding on the guy now, as his brother innocently picked at his food. Even if he wasn’t, Janus could still see the red, irritated welts on the guy’s wrists perfectly in his mind. He—

“Excuse me.”

Janus nearly jumped out of his skin as the kid tapped on his shoulder from behind him, somehow breaking straight through his glamour. Fortunately, his instincts kicked in and he dropped his head, keeping his face hidden from the child leaning over the barrier and into his booth.

“Can I borrow your ketchup?”

“What?” Janus incredulous tone must have registered as odd to the kid, because he suddenly started to explain the simple question.

“The bottle at this table is almost empty and I—”

“Yes. Take it.” Janus snapped, cutting off the kid's explanation as he hastily shoved the red bottle into the kid's open hand.

“Thanks.” The kid's voice sounded almost hurt and almost certainly taken aback at Janus’ abrupt cut into his attempt at a friendly inquiry. “I'm sorry to bother you, sir.”

Janus' stomach twisted as the kid turned back around and slumped back into his seat. He cast a quick glance back at the kid, stilling as the kid’s body language slouched. He knew for a fact, it wasn’t worth getting involved, but despite his wariness, Janus was getting the idea this kid was used to being shoved aside and he didn’t want to be the one to do that to this kid.

Fuck. Virgil is going to flay me alive.

“You didn’t bother me.” Janus whispered hesitantly, forcing himself to keep staring forward as the kid turned toward him.

“What?

“You surprised me is all.” Janus muttered. “No harm done, kid.”

“Patton.”

Now, it seemed it was Janus’ turn to turn back over his shoulder, dumbfounded, but the kid had already faced forward.

“And I'm not a kid.”

Janus smirked, turning forward to stare out the wall of windows. “Come now. You look like you can't be more than fourteen.”

“I'm sixteen.”

Sixteen.

Janus blinked in disbelief at the kid's age and chewing his cheek at the kid’s slight defensive tone. “Still it’s a little late for someone as young as you to be out and about on this side if town .”

“Legally, I'm adult.” Patton muttered. “I'm—I'm emancipated.”

“Legal don't mean shit here, kid.” Janus stared down at his coffee, remembering the look of despair on the kid's brother's face as Virgil had loomed over him. “You’re going to have to learn that real quick, if you plan on staying here.”

“I'm staying.”

“No offense, kid, but I saw the car that brought you here.” Janus whispered, stirring his coffee absently. “The streets are going to eat you alive, if you aren’t—”

“My brother knows what he's doing.” The kid snapped, though he seemed to be losing steam. “He's got a plan. I know he does.”

“I sure hope he does, Patton,” Janus paused, chewing on his thoughts as the kid’s name passed his lips. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the boy’s new guardian making his way back to his table, so he quickly pulled out his wallet and tossed a twenty on the table for the coffee he had hardly touched. He tensed with resolution as he moved to leave the booth. “But even if he doesn’t have a plan, I think you’ll find he has allies in unexpected places.”

“What?”

Janus could hear the kid turn around as he stepped out of his booth, but he didn’t even pause. He straightened his hat on his head as flared up the collar of his long coat.

“Don't give up, kid.”

“Wait—What are you talking ab—”

The kid's call died out as he strode out of the restaurant, pushing past the concerned waiter who was rushing back to the table to collect the kid. Janus sighed, frustrated as he pushed open the double doors of diner and swept down the street, taking a swift turn into the alleyway behind the restaurant.

Janus’ breaths came in short gasps as he paced the alleyway with a fierce intention. Fury flared in his chest as his body filled with indignation on the kid's behalf. His pace had nearly peaked when he shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out his phone. He snarled as he noticed the already lit screen, barely resisting the urge to smash the phone into the wall as he caught Virgil’s name on the screen. Janus' pacing stilled. His anger burned white-hot as he considered letting Virgil worry, but his sudden desire for a fight won out as he clicked the green button and snarled into the receiver .

“What?”

“What the hell, Janus?” Virgil growled into his ear. “You don’t get to just ghost me whenever you feel like it—”

“I can’t do this.”

The line went silent for a long minute as Janus breathed into his cell. He sighed, releasing a bit of his anger as he leaned into the wall.

“This kid is already asking questions about his brother. It’s only a matter of time until he realizes he's not coming home.” Janus hissed. “Even this guy’s friend seems like a decent human. He's still planning on taking the kid in even knowing his friend’s gone—”

“Janus—”

“No. Tell me, Virgil. When did we start doing shit like this to good people?” Janus leaned off the dumpster behind him as his diatribe intensified. “I didn’t sign up for th—”

“Maybe, if you gave me a chance to speak, I’d—”

“Where’s my brother, Roman?!”

The blood-curdling shriek sent Janus flying behind the dumpster. He'd barely managed to crouch out of sight he heard a scuffle at the entrance to the alleyway.

“Quiet!”

Janus hesitantly peeked around the corner to catch a glance of the golden boy dragging the kid into the alley. His fangs started to extend as the full-grown man pressing the kid into the wall of the other building, covering his mouth with his hand so he couldn't call for help. Adrenaline shot through Janus’ body as he prepared to lunge into action.

“I need you to relax, Pat.” The waiter’s deep voice sent shivers down Janus’ spine, but his tone was kind and patient. “I'm going to tell you, but your father can’t hear about this. If he does, you’re going to end up right back at home.”

Janus’ muscles eased as the golden boy's grip slackened, even though the kid seemed far from settling as he squirmed in the man’s arms. Feeling the tension drop, Janus edged further into the shadows as he glanced at his phone, grateful that Virgil seemed to have picked up that he needed to remain quiet.

“Come on, Starlight. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” The man’s voice trembled, nearly fading to silence. “I'm lost, too.”

The kid, Patton, seemed to go slack in the man's arms at the slight tremble in the man's voice. Janus’s heart ached as he stared at the kid. The wet streaks on his face glistened in the light of the streetlamp and he looked even younger than he had in the diner.

Just a kid.

“I don't know where Logan is, Pat. He disappeared last night.”

Janis could feel the energy in the air shift as the kid started to shake his head violently. He threw his whole weight into the man holding him against the wall, knocking the man's hand free of his mouth.

“No—no, no, nonono—”

“Don’t panic. We're going to find—”

“What happened, Roman?” The kid's voice cracked as he backed away from the man, swaying unevenly on his feet.

“I don’t know, Patton. We were walking home from the diner last night and—” Roman hovered close to the kid, desperate to comfort him but cautious about antagonizing him. “I don't know what happened after that. I woke up in my bed, and—and Lo never came home.”

Janus leaned closer, staring as his fangs slowly retracted. Patton continued to sway dangerously until the man came up to steady him from behind.

“What did the police say?”

Janus watched curiously as the man's expression shifted and he suddenly gripped the kid tighter. “I couldn't call them, Pat.”

“What?!”

A shiver ran down Janus’ spine as the kid's shriek filled his ears and it a was a long moment after that before he even processed the man's words. He glanced down at his phone, knowing Virgil was probably listening as intently to this conversation as himself.

The guy didn't call the cops.

“Logan was very clear about what he wanted me to do if something happened to him. His priority was always making sure you were safe first—”

“Not if he's missing, Roman.”

“He told me exactly what he'd want me to do if he went missing, Patton” Roman whispered staring over at Patton. “and that means making sure the police don't find out he's gone.”

“Why—”

“Your father has the police under his thumb,” Roman stepped closer to Patton, wrapping his arm around him. “One of the conditions of your emancipation was having a place to live with your brother. If he’s gone, the judge could throw out the decision, especially with a district attorney whispering in his ear."

“He knew?”

“God, no. Pat, he wanted to be here waiting for you. He planned to be at the diner when you arrived,” Roman stepped forward, gripping the kid’s shoulders as he forced him to make eye contact. “but Lo spent hours planning for anything that could possibly go wrong. He wanted to know that you were taken care of, even if something happened to him.”

Patton continued to stare at the ground, shaking. “Roman, he could be hurt—”

Janus sucked in a breath through his teeth, glancing down at his phone.

“I've already got Rem on it. We're going to find him.” Roman whispered. His voice dropped quiet enough that Janus could barely make out the words. “I'm not giving up on him. Okay?”

The kid's face paled and Janus could only guess he was barely standing by the way he continued to sway. Silence hung over them for longer than Janus was comfortable with, but the man holding his shoulders waited patiently until the kid responded.

“Okay.”

“Good,” Roman turned the kid's shoulder to walk him out of the alley. “Now, let’s get you to bed."

“Ro—” Patton slowed

“Don't argue, Pat. You’re not going to do Lo any favors by depriving yourself of sleep.” Roman placed a hand on the Patton's back in gentle reassurance. “We'll meet up with Rem first thing in the morning and go from there.”

“’Kay.”

The kid's mumble faded as they left the alley and Janus rose out of the shadows as they turned the corner out of the alley. He bit his lip, staring after them as he unmuted his phone and lifted the receiver to his ear.

“Do you feel like an asshole yet?”

“You know,” Virgil’s voice growled in his ear. “Your biting sarcasm loses its charm very quickly.”

Janus bristled as Virgil brushed him off. “I'm done, Virgil. Return the guy or I'm—"

“No.”

Janus snarled silently. “Fine, then I'm out. Best of luck with whatever bastard plan you’ve—”

“Stop.” Virgil muttered, his voice full of reluctance. “Please, just hear me out.”

Janus' thumb hovered over the button, but the subtle plea in Virgil’s voice gave him pause not to hang up. He sighed, raising the phone back to his ear. “You have exactly thirty seconds to change my mind, Virgil.”

Virgil didn’t hesitate a second with his response. “Do you remember when I got into that fight a few years ago?”

Janus paused, taken aback by the sudden change in topic. He slowed his pacing, staring curiously out the alley in the direction the kid had left as he replied hesitantly to Virgil. “Yes, I do.”

Virgil's let out a long breath into the receiver. “This guy is the guy I fought, Janus.”

Janus blinked, mouth hanging agape. “Oh.”

“I know how this looks, Jan,” Virgil breathed quietly. “but this dude put me in the hospital because I said something he didn't like. However upset the kid is about his brother being missing, he’s safer without this monster.”

Chewing his lip, Janus paced back and forth in the alley. His body tensed as he tried to process his friend’s words.

“Janus?”

Janus let out a long sigh, pressing his thumb into his temple. “I'm here, Virgil.”

Static crackled in the phone's speaker as the silence hung over them. Janus glanced up at the amber street light tapping his fingers on his arm as a group of people passed the alley. Their laughter broke the fragile silence, grating against Janus’ ears.

“I'm not the only bad guy.”

“You’re not—” Janus repeated back without hesitation. “You’re not a bad guy.”

He could hear Virgil’s breathy snort through the phone as he stifled a chuckle. “You seem awfully sure about changing your tune so quick.”

“I am.” Janus muttered, stepping towards the street.

“Janus,” Virgil’s sharp inhale stilled Janus pacing as he awaited Virgil’s response. “we're good?”

“We're good, Virgil.” The corner of Janus' mouth twitched up at the relief in Virgil’s voice.

“Good.” Virgil’s voice wavered with emotion and Janus smiled at the subtle show of vulnerability. “Now please, make sure that kid gets home safely.”

“I will.” Janus smiled, leaning into the stone wall across the alley from the diner.

“Thank you.”

Janus paused for a moment, smile faltering as the situation that had just unfolded before him continued processing in his mind. "Vee?"

"Yeah, Jan?"

"He didn't call the cops."

"I know. Something's up with these people," Virgil's voice dropped as he let out a long sigh. "We'll figure out what's going on, but for now, let's just be glad we don't have heat breathing down our necks. Okay?"

"Okay." Janus nodded absently, trying to relax. "You're right."

"It'll be fine."

"Right. I know."

"Jan, relax." Virgil whispered patiently. "You're safe. There ain't nothing bigger or badder on those streets than you."

Janus cracked a smile, chuckling as he stood up from the wall. "Oh, I know."

"Keep me updated."

Janus grunted an affirmation, and a moment later, the line disconnected. He sighed, quickly dropping his phone from his ear into his pocket, feeling a familiar numbness settle into his limbs as stepped out onto the sidewalk. The scent of the golden boy’s cologne was easy enough to catch as he turned down the street towards his target. He swept around the next corner, thoughts wandering as the streets began to blur together. He bit his lip, shoulders curled forward even though he couldn’t feel the sharp bite of the cold. The amber lights illuminated him as he closed the distance between him and the kid, not that he noticed the buildings as they blurred past as he disappeared into the night.

General Taglist:

@somehow-i-got-an-account @justanotherhumanstuff @im-an-anxious-wreck

I Know What You’re Going To Say Taglist:

@theoddkidnextdoor @ace-in-a-shopping-cart @im-actually-ok @justanoymous

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #ts janus #ts roman #ts patton #ts virgil #I Know What You're Going To Say #villain writes

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Omertà👄4

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (sexual intercourse); tags to be added throughout series

This is dark!Bucky and dark! Loki and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father was a bookie and taught you everything you know about numbers. After his death, you were taken on as a bookkeeper for Loki Laufeyson, resident crime boss in Manhattan. But can you keep your place in the background when a man from Brooklyn threatens to drag you to the forefront?

Note: You guys are awesome. Just thought you should know! Thanks for reading and following along. :D I am always so thankful for everything y’all do.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Aside from the colour, you were not a fan of the dress. The black number was little much for you; the long sleeves couldn’t make up for the length of the skirt or the strappy back. You were still unaccustomed to your new wardrobe and you doubted you ever would be. When you arrived that morning at The Attic, you’d felt like an idiot.

After noon, you excused yourself if only to escape Loki for an hour. He hadn’t failed to remind you of the day’s meeting. Over a week and a half since the last. Just as long spent in dread. It was bad enough facing Loki each day but another to know you’d be book-ended between him and Bucky.

You went to a restaurant not far from the shop. You passed it now and then but never thought of stepping inside the ultra sleek bar. You did that day; a reluctant retreat. You sat by the window and ordered an organic juice and a salad.

You rarely ate anything more than microwaves dinners and non-perishables. You often found yourself forgetting to stop and eat when you were at work and you gave little thought to what awaited you after.

You poked at the baby spinach and glanced out the window. The strawberry juice was a little too sweet and made your jaw twitch. You looked back to your bowl as you tried to hide your recognition. The man across the street; you’d seen him before.

It would be easy enough to shrug off his brief glance as coincidence as he walked casually along the pavement, but you hadn’t missed him as you emerged from The Attic. Or a few days back on your way home. His golden hair shone above his chiseled jaw and his bright eyes made him a beacon on the streets. He was following you and he wasn’t even trying to be subtle.

You left the last few leaves in the bottom of the bowl to drown in dressing. You took your last sip from the glass and folded the bills in the little leather folder. You stood and nodded at your waitress on your way out. The blond man was gone. For now.

You returned to the shop and slipped into the office. Loki wasn’t there and you were thankful. You sat and pulled out your phone. You pulled down the skirt which had a tendency to slip to your thigh.

As you wiggled in your chair, the door opened and Loki appeared. He didn’t miss the little shimmy and smiled as he neared your desk. His eyes sparkled at you as his fingers rubbed along the edge of the wood.

“We should go soon.” He said. “But we should talk first.”

“Right,” You kept your phone propped up but spared him a brief peek.

“First, listen,” He reached over and tapped your phone. “Important. I tell you to do something, you do it. No back talk. It would be as bad for you as for me should you choose to undermine me in the presence of those men.”

You nodded and lowered your phone. You looked at him and squished your lips together.

“Play along. I know you’re not stupid so I know you can play your part well.” He grinned. “This man is simple; even you can rile him.”

You shook your head and swayed your leg as you crossed your arms.

“Is that all?” You asked.

“I shouldn’t have to remind you of what this world means; of the consequences of such repugnance.” He frowned. “Remember your father, perhaps that will keep you in line.”

“Perhaps,” You sneered.

“Well,” He drew away. “I’d rather this over with. I am not a fan of these places. Sad, really.”

You stood and tucked your phone in your purse. You slung it on your shoulder and sighed.

“Well, at least we can agree on expedience,” You said.

👄

The She-Wolf looked grim in the daylight. The neon sign flashed although the flicker was hard to notice so early. You followed Loki to the doors but he swiftly sidestepped a patron stumbling out. You watched the man, already drunk, as he wobbled away.

You swallowed your discomfort and entered as Loki opened the door for you, the bouncers eyed both of you. He was greeted by a woman in a crop top and booty shorts. He looked at her as if she were a leper.

“Laufeyson for Barnes,” He announced. “Is there a man who I should--”

“Over here,” She interrupted him and his brows drew together. “Just by Tiffani.”

Loki hesitated but followed, his arm curled around you as he swept you along with him. There were only two stages in use and the bar was almost empty. Still the music buzzed and the dark room was swathed with coloured arcs of light. You sat along the half-moon stage as the woman offered you drinks.

Loki sniffed as he peered around and refused. You thanked her but forewent the offer as well. Loki sat back and draped his arm behind you. He looked over at you and you didn’t miss his gaze as his hand flitted down to your dress. His hand snaked over and he caressed your leg just beneath the hem.

“Well…” He kept his voice low. “I am pleasantly surprised.”

“Stop,” You grabbed his hand.

“Stop? Ah, you know, I never expected to share tastes with Barnes but I might see a little of what he does.” He purred. “This might be more fun than I expected.”

“Loki,” You hissed as he flipped his hand and twisted yours back. “Enough.”

“We should’ve taken our time back at the office.” He slithered.

“I mean it.” You wrestled with him. “It’s not funny.”

“I am not joking, darling,” He rolled his R coyly. “And seeing as…” His eyes went to the woman spinning up on the pole. “He has such low standards… you’ve made this pleasantly easy.”

He shook you away and pushed his hand between your knees. He gripped your leg as he took a breath. He cleared his throat and rescinded his touch as he stood. Bucky appeared from a doorway along the back of the club and you rose too. He was flanked by two other men and they followed him to the stage as he smirked at you. He barely acknowledged Loki as he offered you his hand.

“Sweetheart,” He looked you up and down. “Mmm, you look wonderful.”

You thanked him softly and stiffened as you shook his hand.

“Loki,” He released you and extended his hand to the other man. “Early. As always.”

“We take our time seriously in Manhattan,” Loki gripped Bucky’s hand firmly. “It is, as they say, money.”

“Mmhmm,” Bucky withdrew and sat. His men stayed behind him, like statues.

Bucky leaned his elbow on the table that lined the stage and gazed up at the now topless Tiffani as she hung upside down from the pole. He smirked and his eyes slowly fell to you.

“So, you thirsty?” He asked.

“It’s early,” Loki answered for you.

“Not that early,” Bucky insisted as he raised his hand. “What do you like? You seem like a scotch man.”

His eyes never left you as the woman who greeted you returned.

“Or whiskey,” Loki replied, annoyed that he was all but being ignored.

“And the lady?” He wondered. “Champagne?”

“That’s a bit much,” You sat straight.

“Rose? Chardonnay?” He continued. “I have a rather extensive cellar. I could let you have a look if you wish.”

“We didn’t come here to peruse your wine collection,” Loki intoned.

“No,” Bucky slapped his hand on the table. “You came here to give me my money and to accept my hospitality. It would be rude to bite the hand, wouldn’t it?”

Loki’s jaw jutted out in anger and he nodded, a snarl slowly left his nostrils.

“Gin,” You said sternly. “Gin is fine.”

“Gin,” Bucky repeated as his expression softened and he turned to the waitress. “Scotch for my friend,” He waved to Loki, “And two gins. Top shelf.”

“Yes, sir,” She recited and her smile betrayed her attraction for the man. Bucky, despite his person, could not be called hideous.

“You know,” Bucky turned to Loki, his eyes strayed to you for a moment, “I was thinking of this new arrangement and while I appreciate that your men are working so hard, I would prefer a few of mine help out.”

“Help out?” Loki squinted.

“Allies, you said.” Bucky leaned back and pulled his thin lapels straight. “So we should work together. If I sent a few of my hands down to our warehouses, they wouldn’t be hassled, would they? Especially not if they were helping with our business.”

Loki swallowed. It was one thing to split up the take, but another to allow others onto territory he still felt was rightfully his. The compromise was temporary in his mind; a means to an end. A patient plot.

“Surely not,” Loki forced out. “I would make sure of it.”

“Very good,” Bucky smiled as he watched the waitress set down the drinks. “I will send them down tomorrow then.”

“I’ll make sure mine are aware,” Loki inhaled deeply and took his scotch. His other hand wandered over your thigh and he rested it there as he sipped.

You grabbed your drink and swigged down a bitter mouthful before you could chide him. Bucky didn’t miss the movement and his eyes followed Loki’s arm to his hand. Loki’s long fingers squeezed and you winced. Bucky took a drink as he looked you over.

“I’ll take my money now,” He gritted out. “Drinks are on me though.”

Loki set down his glass and dragged his hand from your leg. He shifted your skirt as he did, enough to expose your upper thigh. You fixed it and Bucky hummed. You looked up as he shifted in his chair. He was focused on your lap and you pushed your legs together tightly.

Loki reached into his jacket and pulled out the bundle. He planted it on the table before Bucky who quickly took it and began to count. When he finished, he smacked the stack on his palm and then handed it over to one of his men.

“You like her?” Bucky pointed to Tiffani and Loki frowned. “The night shift is better. The girls are… skilled.”

“I’ve never been one for dancers. Or escorts.” Loki sneered.

“My girls are clean and I’d not call them escorts, they’re good company. Especially for men like us.”

“Men like us?” Loki huffed. “I don’t pay for my company.”

“So you must be lonely,” Bucky countered.

A tense silence followed as they stared each other down. Loki chuckled and finished his drink.

“Not that lonely,” He stretched his arm behind you.

Bucky scratched his chin and nodded.

“It’s not always money you pay with,” Bucky mused. “Is it?”

“I have been told I am charming,” Loki’s fingers tickled your shoulder. “I’ve never wanted for much.”

“Is it charm or hot air?” Bucky challenged. “You talk a lot.”

“I won’t deny that,” Loki smirked. “But you know, a sharp tongue is truly a gift. Isn’t it, darling?”

Both men looked at you. You tapped your fingernail on your glass and chewed on your irritation.

“Truly,” You answered rigidly. “It must be.”

You lifted your glass and drank. Bucky watched you intently. Loki stared at him until he looked away and their gaze met. There was a moment of understanding; an unspoken challenge. You felt as if you were suffocating in your dress. You wanted another drink desperately.

👄

You left shortly after the pissing contest. You were glad to be away and didn’t stick around much longer at the antique shop. Loki was agitated and barely noticed when you left. Despite his well-honed veneer, he hadn’t been able to withhold his chagrin once free of the strip club.

The next day, you sensed little difference. He was silent, grumbly. He sat behind his desk and made the occasional call. He was impatient and bossy. He had Bucky’s men in his warehouses and he was talking his own down from igniting another war. Each call ended with a scribbled list of numbers for you to add to your ledger.

Your work was disturbed in the late afternoon. You heard Lopez in the showroom, his voice panicked as he neared the other side of the door. There was no knock as the squat man’s voice was left unmatched. The door opened as Loki reached under his jacket. He gripped his gun and watched the man who entered.

“No need for that,” The blonde man said coolly. He held a box and smiled as he looked around the room. “Just got a delivery.”

Loki scowled and reluctantly lowered his hand. “Delivery? Did Barnes forget something?”

The blonde’s jaw squared as he turned to you. He placed the box atop your open ledger.

“Boss sends his regards,” He smirked. You said nothing as he nodded and glanced at Loki one last time. “To both of you.”

As quickly as he’d come, he was gone. You watched him go and frowned as Loki bid Lopez shut the door. You were silent as you shook your head at the box.

“Who was--”

“Rogers.” Loki snorted. “Barnes’ little lap dog.”

You were quiet. You wouldn’t let on that Barnes’ man had been tailing you. You didn’t think that would help with either of them. Or you.

“Well, open it.” He demanded.

You glanced at him and he lifted a brow. His eyes pierced you as you slid the box closer and let out a long breath. You rubbed your thumbs over the cardboard and carefully shook the lid free. The box fell to the desk and you set aside the top. You brushed aside the tissue paper and gaped at the swath of sparkling diamonds.

Loki sighed and tapped his fingers as he leaned forward.

“Do go on,” He said dryly.

You cringed and reached into the box. You hooked your fingers under the diamonds and lifted the glittering pair of panties. Your eyes met Loki’s over the top and his face paled with anger. Fuck.

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certifiedskywalker · 4 years

Text

Are You Bored Yet? - Benjamin Poindexter

Anonymous said: Hi!! Can I request some more Poindexter x reader? I’ve read ever fanfic on this website and I’m so sad that the amount of fanfics for him is so limited! Maybe some more dark, Dex stalking the reader but the reader falling for Dex and everything goes according to his plan! I’ve fallen down the Dex hole

AN: It’s been a while since I’ve written for Dex! I hope I did him justice! (I will forever be bitter that we will not see him and DareDevil in the same way again)

This was not part of Dex’s plan. Hell, the idea of it set him on edge. With his occupation, his senses were used to overloads. The sound of gunfire and flashing lights did little in the ways of hindering him during his working hours. Outside of his schedule, well, it was different.

Different meaning near piercing. There was noise everywhere. Crashing, geering, shattering, all of it all at once. It took everything Dex had not to cover his ears. That day he learned that he hated arcades. There was nothing worth the smell, the sounds, any of it.

Except you. You were worth it all and that confused him.

How could someone like you, all collected and cool, work at a place so obnoxious? The answer alluded Dex, taunted him, teased him with the tilt of your smile. When he learned where you worked, he almost lost his tether to you. Yet, he found himself watching you smile at people under the neon lights and assault of noise almost daily now.

Dex pulled the brim of his cap down as he stepped further inside. You were behind the ticket counter bartering with a gaggle of loudly dressed children. Despite how annoying they were, how annoying Dex assumed all children were, you were smiling. It, no, you amazed him. If he could, he would watch you smile like that all-

“Fuck off, loser!”

“Hey!”

Dex forced himself to take a long, barely steadying breath before turning to face the high-pitched yelling. When he finally opened his eyes, his gaze was assaulted by the flashing, gold lights of ‘Shoot ‘Em Up Hoops’ and the pair of children fighting there. An older looking girl was pushing away a younger boy until the basketball in his hand fell. The orange ball rolled over to Dex, bouncing slightly, almost to the beat of the game’s music.

“You can’t shoot for shit.”

Dex reached down, hands gripping the ball tightly as he listened. The young boy was growing red in the face, tears welling up in his eyes. For a moment, Dex saw himself. He could feel the sting of rejection and twinge of fear as if it were his own.

As if to prove that he was real, that the boy he once was was truly no more, Dex effortlessly threw the ball. His aim was sharp as always, the impact ever-so satisfying. There was a sudden silence around him as eyes turned to study him; but Dex was focused on the ball, where it had hit.

So neatly, the ball ran circles around the edge of the hoop before dipping inside. The older girl stared at him wide eyed as points were awarded to the younger boy. It was just enough to put the boy’s score ahead, winning the game. The children turned then, still in a stunned silence, to study Dex. The girl looked furious.

Slowly, Dex walked up to the pair, crouching down before them. He locked eyes with the girl and he could see her resolve melting. Now the fear was hers.

“Cheating will get you no where,” Dex said lowly, “because there will always be someone better than you.” The children blinked at him, dumbfounded. “Run along now.”

Dex stood up as the two kids ran off. With a little more quiet, he found himself set a little more at ease. He turned his head only slightly to peer back at you. For a moment, in the din of jingling tokens and game sound effects, Dex swore you were looking at him. Yet, with his senses so overwhelmed, he convinced himself he imagined it and turned away.

Just leave, he thought, just fucking go. There was other things he could be doing, new regimes he could follow to distract himself from you. Hell, the new routines could even prove to be grounding. Dex needed stability. He turned to glance back at you.

You were talking to a frazzled looking mother and a very young girl pointing at a stuffed pony. Despite the obvious annoyance, you were smiling. It was a steady smile, one that Dex would have to practice in the mirror to get just right. You were the stability he lacked and Dex couldn’t leave you.

He let out a sigh and eyed the tokens that rest beside the ‘Shoot ‘Em Up Hoops’ game. The dumb kids left them there. They wouldn’t be back for them and Dex had time to kill before you shift ended. He would walk you home, well, a few paces behind, then. He had to make sure you were safe. There was too much going on, too much at stake.

Leaning down, Dex picked up one of the tokens and stepped up to the game. The coin slid into the slot and the game’s music started up again. He picked up the ball as the timer began and took aim. With an ease that never needed practice, Dex made a basket.

Many, many baskets later, and Dex took note of how much the noise in the arcade had died down. Most of the evening crowd had funneled out the door when the first stars began poking out in the dark sky. Now, it was a scattered few teenagers and desperate adults clinging to what they could; and Dex. Though, he was clinging to something, someone, too.

But your shift still wasn’t over yet so Dex continued racking up the points in ‘Shoot ‘Em Up Hoops’. It was so easy to get lost in the movement. Though, it wasn’t as fluid as throwing knives or axes. It reminded Dex of a simpler time. A time when-

“Are you bored yet?”

Dex felt a rush of heat wash over his back and shoulders. Slowly, he turned around to see you, with those eyes of yours, studying him. Dex gripped the basketball tightly as an automated voice entreated him to continue on with the game.

“I…”

“You’ve been shooting hoops for a while now and we’re closing in a few minutes.”

“Oh, sorry, I just,” Dex set the basketball down to mask the shakiness of his voice. He needed to get a grip. “I just lost track of time.”

“It’s alright,” there was that smile again. Dex felt his lips pull up too, just a little. Every other sound around you melted away then, leaving him just with you.

For a moment, he thought maybe he could smile and mean it truly. Before he could, suddenly, your eyes widened and Dex felt like he was going to be sick. Did you recognize him from all the times he had snooped around? This was it. This was his worst fear realized: he was going to lose you before even knowing you.

“You have a ton of tickets! I didn’t even know that ‘Shoot ‘Em Up’ could grant that many! Do you want to exchange them?” Dex traced your gaze and saw the mass of tiny, connected slips of paper spilling out of the machine. How long had he been playing?

“I-sure. Yeah, I’ll exchange them.”

You were smiling at him again and Dex felt his chest tighten. Wordlessly, he followed you to the counter where he had seen you working before. The stuffed animals along the wall were largely picked over save for a large giraffe and a few colorful creatures Dex didn’t dare claim to know. The display case too was sparse aside from an array of tacky rings. As you moved behind the case, Dex piled his tickets on the counter.

“Can you find the end of your tickets for me? I can put them in the machine to count them then.” You were cleaning up as you spoke and Dex couldn’t take his eyes off you. So close, so terribly close. When you turned around, Dex forced himself to look away.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Dex began to fumble with the tickets. After a moment, you stepped closer to him, hands reaching out near his.

“Here, let me help you.”

You began skimming the edges of the tickets with your fingers, searching, as Dex was, for the stub-end. At one point, your hand brushed against his and he swore that a jolt of electricity jumped between your bodies. Eventually, you found the end of the tickets and fed it into the counting machine. The silence was filled by the sound of the tickets being eaten up with a horribly robotic crunching sound emanating from a nearby speaker.

“I’ve seen you around here a lot.” You did recognize him. Dex tried to keep himself steady; something that came easier, somehow, with you so close.

“Yeah, I, my friend told me about this place.” It was a lie that he had practiced. He thought of Nadeem. A friend. “His kid had a birthday here.”

“You have kids?”

“No,” Dex couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up his throat. It was a bitter one but he muscled through it. “I don’t. Probably shouldn’t.”

“After working here,” you sighed heavily, “I think you might have the right idea. They’re a handful. I mean, that kid you stopped from bullying the other one, earlier. Kids can be mean.”

“You saw that?” So, you had noticed him, watched him even. A spark of hope set Dex’s veins aflame. The feeling only intensified when he noticed a wave of shyness hit you. You were curling in on yourself slightly now and all he wanted to do was reach out to you.

“Yeah, they were causing a bit of scene. If it wasn’t for you, I would have had to go over and separate them. So, uh, thanks for doing my job. It was sweet of you too, defending that boy.”

You met his gaze for a long moment, only breaking the contact when the ticket counter read off a total that Dex would be embarrassed to admit. He had gotten himself into a zone, honed focus. ‘Shoot ‘Em Up Hoops’ had officially proven itself to be a dangerous game.

“How did you get that many?” You asked in disbelief.

“Would you believe me if I said I played sports as a kid?” Dex bit the inside of his cheek. It was really a lie. A partial truth. He couldn’t remember the last time he had played any sport.

“I mean yeah,” you shook your head, “you might want to consider going pro.” Dex put on a smile, though it was easier with you to wear it. “If the arcade plans on hosting a tournament, let me know. I’ll be the first to sign up.”

“I could add you quicker if I know your name,” you pointed out. Dex couldn’t help but pick up on how soft your voice had sounded. Your lips formed the words so carefully, almost as if you too had to practice what you were going to say.

“Dex,” he replied. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

Your eyes widened. “How did you…”

Shit. Dex could feel the ground beneath his feet begin to crumble. His eyes danced along your face, your neck, your chest, and then he saw it. His way out.

“It’s on your uh, name tag.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m just-long day and all.” Dex smiled at your new nervousness, a smile that, for once, felt almost natural.

“It’s alright, you’ve got good reason to be paranoid.” You met his gaze then, an eyebrow raised in question. “Kids can be mean, and all.”

“Yeah,” you let out a breathy laugh, one that made Dex’s insides feel light as air. “So, you have a around a two thousand tickets. You can get just about everything, except for the giraffe.”

“Damn,” Dex leaned against the counter, trying to be more comfortable. “That was what I wanted. Just a few tickets short...anything you recommend?”

“Well, there’s these,” you pointed at the rings in the display case. “Perfect for a engagement, if you ask me, and then there’s these.” You stretched your arms up to the stuffed animals fastened to the wall behind the counter. “You could get a few of those.”

“Hmm…”

Dex felt a twinge in his stomach. There was pulling, a coaxing, in his chest. He knew most people called it bravery but Dex knew it best as adrenaline. It was just a chemical reaction in his body taking place as it should; but with you, he could almost believe is was something more.

“How many tickets for having coffee with you sometime?” The question fell from his lips without a second thought, something Dex started to regret as you fell silent. “That was...I was too forward. I’m-”

“A hundred tickets,” you murmured. Dex’s heart began to race.

“Just a hundred?”

“As long as you buy the drinks.”

“Coffee, tea, you name it,” Dex replied. A half smile pulled at his lips. There was no faking here, no mask in sight. Right then, it was just you and him.

“Well then,” you held out your hand, “hundred tickets please.”

“Gladly,” Dex said, handing you what looked like a hundred or so odd tickets. It was finally paying off. The weeks of waiting, watching, and studying was all finally gathering into one moment. One agreement, one minute of Dex’s life that he would treasure forever.

You ripped off one of the tickets and grabbed a pen. Dex watched as you scribbled something on the tiny slip of blue paper. When you were finished, you handed it back to him.

“Here’s my number. Let me know when you’re free.” Dex took the slip from you, his finger tips brushing slightly against yours.

“Thanks,” Dex said, gripping tightly to the paper. He looked up and met yours eyes. You were staring at him but not in the way he was used to people staring at him. Normally, when people looked at Dex, it was because he wasn’t normal. People could sense it and Dex knew that you could too; but you smiled, stared at him softly anyway.

“I’m glad you didn’t get bored.” Dex’s brows furrowed. “Bored with ‘Shoot ‘Em Up Hoops’ that is. You stuck around.”

“Yeah, I am too.”

Yes, Dex thought, he couldn’t have planned it better than this. He was willing to take this slow for you. Coffee first, stability later. He could never get bored with you.

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infinitevariety · 3 years

Text

May Your Days Be Merry

Having never been able to celebrate previously, Aziraphale and Crowley decide to embrace the festive season and make the most of their first December together since the world didn’t end.

Chapter Twenty Three: Love (AO3)

Secrets are revealed when Aziraphale pops by Crowley's flat unexpectedly.

Crowley is bored. It’s a few too many hours early to head to the bookshop. He and Aziraphale have spent time together every day this month, and with the visitors they had yesterday Crowley wants to give Aziraphale time to decompress and be alone with his books.

Which is why Crowley is lounging on the sofa in his flat, his second favourite Christmas film playing on the TV and music blaring from another room. He’s not paying attention to either of them, instead playing a festive edition of Candy Crush on his phone and absent-mindedly sipping on his drink.

Crowley’s eyes glance to the time and he curses internally. It’s still too early to leave. Of course it’s still too early. He only checked the time two minutes previously. He focuses even harder on the little candy canes, Christmas trees, baubles, and bells.

The noise of the TV, music, and game, along with Crowley’s determination to distract himself, in hindsight, is a mistake.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale’s voice is loud in an effort to be heard over the various devices, and Crowley suspects it’s not the first time Aziraphale has said his name.

As his eyes move from his phone screen to Aziraphale, Crowley jumps up from the sofa and immediately panics. He wasn’t expecting this. He snaps his fingers, lowering the volume on the TV, music player, and his phone to a more sedate level. Then he glances around the room, remembering the state of his entire flat.

“Crowley,” repeats Aziraphale.

“I can explain!”

“I don’t think you need to, my dear.” Aziraphale isn’t looking at Crowley. His eyes roam over the room as he continues to speak. “I suspected you might be giving me some time to myself, but I missed you. So thought I’d pop by. There was no answer when I knocked so I…”

“Barged in?” Crowley completes for him.

That, at least, draws Aziraphale’s attention. He turns to look at Crowley with soft eyes and a tilted head.

“There’s no need to get defensive, dear. I think this is lovely.”

Crowley physically cringes. “Of course you do.”

“Ah,” says Aziraphale. A look of understanding crossing his face. “The problem isn’t that I like it, it’s that I now know that you like it.”

Aziraphale draws closer to Crowley, smiling. Crowley avoids Aziraphale’s eye. Instead, he looks around at his flat.

At the Christmas tree set up in the corner, with glittery baubles and flashing coloured lights. At the Let it Snow banner hung across the doorway. At the red neon Hohoho sign on his coffee table. At the fairy lights around his television. At the TV screen where Mark is confessing is love to Juliet on a series of signs. At the rapidly cooling mug of hot chocolate sitting by his phone. At himself, wearing a black jumper with candy cane striped words on it declaring Crowley to be Festive AF.

They are silent for several long seconds as Rocking Around the Christmas Tree plays from the other room. Then Aziraphale reaches out to Crowley, grasping his hand and squeezing. Despite himself, Crowley feels reassured by the gesture.

“It’s stupid,” mumbles Crowley as he looks down at his woolly sock clad feet.

“If you think this is stupid you must have hated spending time at the bookshop with me all month.”

“No, angel—” Crowley quickly raises his head to look at Aziraphale, who’s smiling back at him.

“I know you haven’t, Crowley. I know you’ve been having a wonderful month doing festive things with me. I already know you like Christmas.”

Crowley shrugs, but doesn’t speak. He doesn’t count it as conceding the point, but he also knows Aziraphale doesn’t need him to.

“Now, what’s an angel got to do to get a mulled wine around here? I know you must have some on the go—I can smell it.”

“I’ll go fetch you one.” Crowley smiles. “Get comfy on the sofa, maybe we can watch a film?”

“What film is this?” asks Aziraphale, looking at the screen, where Judy is leaning in to kiss John. “It looks nice.”

“Oh, no, that’s just some nonsense rubbish, I wasn’t even really watching it. We’ll find something else,” says Crowley dismissively. Aziraphale might have realised Crowley is fond of Christmas but he can’t find out one of his favourite Christmas films is Love Actually.

He wanders to the kitchen, and by the time Crowley comes back with two steaming glasses of mulled wine, Aziraphale is curled up under one of the blankets unwrapping a chocolate coin. He also has his Santa hat on.

“Nice hat,” says Crowley as he hands Aziraphale his drink.

“Well, I had to match you, my dear.”

Crowley’s eyes widen as he absently reaches up to confirm that, yes, he put his reindeer antlers on this morning. Aziraphale, the beautiful bastard, just beams up at him and wiggles with joy.

“What do you fancy watching, angel?” Crowley scrolls through the Christmas selection on Netflix, hoping for inspiration or for something to catch Aziraphale’s eye.

And something does catch Aziraphale’s eye. Just nothing on the TV.

“Are those my presents?” asks Aziraphale innocently.

Crowley turns to look at what Aziraphale has seen. Off to the side and poorly hidden under a side table are several Christmas gift bags in various sizes. Crowley hasn’t bothered to hide them away properly, because Aziraphale wasn’t supposed to have come over.

“Whether they’re your gifts or not—” And really, who else’s are they going be, when they exchanged gifts with their friends yesterday? “—they aren’t being opened until the 25th.”

“Or tomorrow,” counters Aziraphale, “if we stay up until midnight.”

“Don’t open all your presents while I’m asleep!”

“Don’t go to sleep, then.”

“Or you could sleep with me.”

“I—” Aziraphale seems lost for words.

“I just meant—” Crowley fervently hopes they’re on the same page about this. “—sleep.”

“I—” Some tension seems to leave Aziraphale’s posture. “Yes. Perhaps we can try that.”

“Want to try one of these?” Keen to break the tension fully, Crowley holds out a tray of Ferrero Rocher.

Aziraphale squints at him suspiciously. “Absolutely not.”

Crowley laughs. “More for me, then.” He unwraps one of the perfectly normal chocolates and chomps delightedly on it.

“I’m going to get another mulled wine,” says Aziraphale as he stands up and wanders off to the kitchen.

While he’s gone, Crowley finally settles on a film (Trolls Holiday Special—Aziraphale is going to hate it), and works his way through three more Ferrero Rocher.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale calls from the back of the room.

“Hmm?” Crowley gets up and wanders over to him.

Aziraphale is standing at the card holder Crowley put up a week or so ago, after his windowsill got full. In his hands are a couple of cards that he’d pulled down to read. Crowley peers over his shoulder to see. One is from Roger, the young bloke in one of the lower flats, and the other is from Florence, the old lady who lives directly below Crowley’s. What both cards have in common, Crowley now realises, it that they include a message thanking Crowley for his card.

“Crowley,” repeats Aziraphale, “did you send all of your neighbours Christmas cards?”

“Ngk—yes,” admits Crowley.

Aziraphale turns and looks up at Crowley in wonder. Crowley knows the jig is up. It’s time to be honest.

“You were wrong, earlier,” he tells Aziraphale. “I don’t like Christmas.”

Aziraphale eyebrows draw together and he looks unaccountably sad for a moment. But only for a moment, because Crowley isn’t finished.

“I love Christmas. I told myself I was doing all this stuff for you—the decorating, the films, the traditions… and I was, at first. Making sure you’re so happy is my mission in life. Then, I don’t know exactly when, and I’m sure not even God knows why, but at some point, I just started enjoying it all myself, too. It’s gaudy and full of friendliness and I’ll never like tinsel, but… it’s actually a lot of fucking fun.” Crowley shrugs, not knowing how to follow up his admission.

“I love you.” Aziraphale says it urgently, like it’s been living inside of him just waiting for the right moment to make its escape. Maybe it has. “I love you for loving Christmas, and for so much more. For everything.”

Crowley smiles. If this is what happens when he admits how much he likes something, maybe he should declare his love for dumb shit more often.

“I love puppies and kittens, too.”

Aziraphale rolls his eyes.

“Oh, and helping old ladies across the road.”

“Shut up,” says Aziraphale, before pulling Crowley into a hug.

#good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #ineffable husbands fic #ace ineffable husbands #ineffably festive #fic: may your days be merry #2020 advent ficlet challenge #i wrote this

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deepwaterwritingprompts · 3 years

Note

ooh ask day! are you working on any of your own writing at the moment? what excites you about it? is your writing similar to your prompts in any way? or do the prompts fulfill something else for you?

mainly im working on getting my first novel published, which you can read about HERE. otherwise, the sequel, an adult fiction project, and an urban fantasy type YA about a town called florida. in florida. Florida, florida.

Florida project, working title BORDERLINE, is the most in line with my general prompt vibe here. a little cosmic horror, bent reality, just generally odd.

I never write stuff based off the prompts, but I DO write prompts based off my own stuff, very occasionally. for me, writing prompts is like scales for a musician. keeps my brain well oiled.

*still taking asks, no requests please*

anyway, ive been working on Florida project a lot lately. have an excerpt:

Backpage:

Lin O’Leary was born and raised in the town of Florida, Florida, tucked away into a corner of the state’s forgotten coast. All the locals know Florida is a strange place, rumored to stand on a borderline, where the veil is thin and mysterious forces wander alongside the human population. The daughter of Irish and Mexican immigrants, Lin knows you can only find trouble if you go looking for it, and like the rest of Florida’s residents, lives comfortably alongside the supernatural. This is before Momoko Kasahara disappears into thin air, frightening the town of Florida into a new, ultra-cautious existence. Five years after Momo’s disappearance, Lin is seventeen, a highschool dropout now working at a convenience store, her once vibrant town still plagued by fear. The days drag by, mundane as they come in Florida, occasionally punctuated by unpleasant visits from Bo Kasahara, brother to Momo and full time asshole. Then, one fateful late shift, Lin sees the missing Kasahara twin standing in the aisles, gone as quickly as she appeared. Meanwhile, a stranger arrives from California, claiming to be a paranormal investigator hellbent on uncovering the mysteries of Florida, and suddenly Lin is faced with a choice. Be smart and keep her head down, or dive headlong into the strange mist that so often covers Florida, to rescue Momo Kasahara, and return her town to the way she remembers it.

1. 100% humidity feels like breathing underwater.

L I N

Florida ate Momoko Kasahara on the most miserable day of the year, and washed her down with a thunderstorm. A lot of other important things happened that day, but Momo’s disappearance overshadowed them all. Momo was the coolest girl in our class. She had shiny black hair that ran down to her waist. She liked to wear a different flavor of lip gloss every day of the week, and could sing in Japanese. I was on my way home from the beach when I saw the police cars in her driveway, and her twin brother sitting on the porch, painted purple in the twilight.

He shook his head, at me, slow, and all the sound seemed to drain out of the world. The flashing police lights distorted his face, as bright white clouds passed too quickly above us. The whole scene drove a stake of wrongness hard into my chest. Sometimes even now, I dream about it. Bo and I watching each other. The dead silence. The purple light. The too white clouds. And Momo, eaten. For the first time in my life, I was afraid of my own town.

My name is Lin O’leary. I live in Florida, Florida, a nothing sort of place crammed into an extra forgotten corner of the state’s already forgotten coast. Some days I can forget about Momo, and everything that happened in the hours before she vanished. Heff says I’m good at keeping my eyes closed, even when they’re open.

I really wish he were right.

2. Cloudy with a chance of hotdogs (haunted).

J U L I E N

I was standing in front of the worst building I had ever seen. Slab grey and full of sharp edges, additions had been slapped onto every side until it resembled an impossible puzzle piece. The front windows were crowded with signs for cold beer and hot food, but the glass itself was opaque. It was a convenience store from hell, a collection of stationary parts so nonsensical I was worried it might grow a few new alcoves if I blinked. Above the door, an unintelligible sign in complicated neon cursive flashed electric blue. There was a neon clock too, flickering wildly, just striking twelve.

I must have walked halfway across town, and as far I could tell this was the only place that sold food at all, let alone past three in the morning. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to go inside. My stomach was a mess, and haunted convenience store hot dogs could only make it worse. I fished my phone out of my pocket, but the little service I had was, like the midnight clock above me, barely clinging to existence, my map application nothing more than a collection of beige squares. There was no one around. The sky was intensely dark, a pitch black blanket of clouds. Water hung thick in the air, the night time street so quiet I could almost hear beads of sweat sliding down my already slick face. No, there was nothing for it. I needed directions.

The bell above the door made a strange, flat sound as I pressed inside. If the building was weird from the outside, that was nothing to its interior. The shelves, tall and numerous, had been arranged like maze walls. The overhead lights were blinding, stark white, and every other tile on the floor was mismatched. Some were squares of carpet. The only thing really visible from the entrance was the register, a fortress made of dark wood and surrounded by lottery advertisements. Behind the counter, a girl was reading something intently. As I got closer, I saw it was the back of a box of oatmeal.

“Hi,” I said, adjusting the duffel bag that had been crushing my left shoulder for an hour.

The girl nodded, but didn’t look up. She had thin black hair, pin straight and chin length. Her skin was a warm, golden brown. Her shirt said something in miniscule writing, but my glasses were a little foggy, so I would have had to practically press my face to her chest to read it, which didn’t seem like a great first impression.

“Can you help me? I’m looking for the Fahrenheit Motel. I think it’s supposed to be around here.”

Finally, she glanced at me.

“It’s just around the corner. See the glasses store across the street? Go straight past that and make the second left, you’ll run right into it.”

She pointed out the window, and I realized they were one way.

“Who built this place?” I asked.

She shrugged.

“We’ve had a lot of owners. Everyone adds something new.”

There was something off about her. Like we were talking, but mentally she was still

reading the box of oatmeal.

“I’m Julien,” I said, sticking out a hand. She raised her eyebrows before taking it.

“Lin,” she said, with another small nod.

Her face was round, but her features were knife sharp. I wondered what she looked like angry. Maybe that was a really weird thing to think.

Not wanting to ask for a second set of directions, I wandered around the store for thirty minutes before returning to the counter with a gallon of chocolate milk and a bag of seaweed flavored potato chips.

“I can’t believe you have these. I didn’t think you could find them outside of California.”

Instead of replying, Lin held up the chocolate milk.

“There’s no fridge in your room at the Fahrenheit. You know that right?”

“I was told on the phone… ” I started.

“There’s a fridge, but it’s in the lobby, communal. Kimmy’ll drink this.” She gave the milk a little shake before scanning it. “Just warning you.”

“Thanks,” I said, as she stuffed my things in a smiling shopping bag.

I paused on my way out.

“Goodnight,” I said, “Or, good morning I guess.”

Lin stared at me, then glanced at the box of oatmeal and back.

“Morning,” she said, with a sigh.

***

I followed Lin’s directions, and wound up at last in front of a long, low building sporting a vacancies sign. Even in low light I could see about a hundred sad looking plastic flamingos had been stuck all over the lawn, the bushes, even the gravel path that led to the front door. I had to pick my way around them on approach.

There was no one at the front desk. The reception area was lit only by the green blue light coming from an enormous fishtank that didn’t seem to have any fish in it. As I approached the counter, I noticed someone had left the key to my room out for me, next to a scrap of paper bearing the wifi password. I picked up the key, old and brass, then watched the fishtank for a second, before turning around and experiencing heart failure.

A very old woman with wiry black hair was standing there in her nightgown, arms crossed and frowning at me. She didn’t apologize for nearly sending me to my grave.

“I’m up. I can check you in properly,” she said, shuffling past me. “I’m Kimmy, but you can call me Miss Kimmy. You got ID?”

I dug it out of my wallet while she opened a dusty guest book.

“The reservation is for Julien True,” I said.

Miss Kimmy glanced at the ID I had just handed her.

“That’s not what this says.”

“I know. It’s a stage name,” I admitted, “everything else is correct.”

She raised an eyebrow to herself, but didn’t ask any more questions.

“Now listen,” she said finally, shutting the guest book with a snap. “I’ll be honest, there’s not much to do around here. There’s a bus runs to the state forest during the day, and the beach isn’t going anywhere. If you’re hungry that’s too bad for the most part, unless you feel like walking down to Morton’s.”

“Is that the weird looking building? One way windows?”

“That’s the one. Midnight Morton’s, never closes. This late at night you’ve got Lin at the counter, nice girl.”

I don’t know what I would have called Lin, but it probably wasn’t ‘nice girl’.

“Thanks,” I said, glancing around for the hallway that led to my room.

I bid Miss Kimmy goodnight and lugged my things to Room 7, at the very end of the dark hall. Inside was simple, but stunningly clean, which I had in no way expected. The bed had a sunken spot in the middle, and there were a lot of paintings of tropical fish on the walls. Home sweet home. I changed into pajamas, and took a huge swig of chocolate milk before glancing at my duffel, still full of equipment.

It could wait. I was exhausted, sweaty, and more alone than I had ever been in my entire life.

3. Welcome to my grocery store how may I assist you.

L I N

“I want to drop out of high school,” said Roach.

We were sprawled out on separate tartan sofas, both angled towards the ancient television. It was after midnight, and the only light in the room was coming from the nature channel.

“No you don’t,” I said. “You’re not even in high school.”

Roach was a weird little girl. Eleven years old, she wore oversized thrift store t-shirts, and big chunky glasses, and cut her own hair. I loved her the most in this world.

“Yeah, but when I get there, I want to drop out. You did.”

I sighed.

“You’re smarter than me. You have to finish school and work in a laboratory anywhere but here. Those are the rules.”

Roach crossed and uncrossed her skinny legs without arguing. I knew she just wanted to hear me say she was smart.

We continued to watch the nature channel in silence. A documentary on the arctic ocean was playing, which I found devastatingly boring, but Roach was clearly glued to. I could hear dad snoring upstairs, a pleasant sort of nightly white noise, and tuned out completely until Roach clapped an inch from my face.

“Jeez,” I started, pushing her hands away.

“You were way out there. It’s freaky.”

I had been practicing my zone out since I was Roach’s age. On my best day, I could have an entire conversation without hearing one word the other person said. Call it a life skill.

“You’re doing it again!” said Roach. “Don’t you have work soon?”

That snapped me out of it. I looked at my watch.

“Oh, yeah. Thank you.”

I rolled off the couch as Roach sat back down with a huff. The arctic documentary was ending, and she picked up the changer to scroll through a long list of similar recordings. Roach loved animals, all of them, even fish that ate your insides, and grubs, and parasitic worms. Especially parasitic worms.

“Don’t stay up too late okay?” I said, tugging gently on her massive ponytail. Roach got dad’s curly, reddish brown hair. I got mom’s.

“Mmhm.”

I glanced in the hall mirror to see if there was any food on my shirt. Then I stepped into the mosquito ridden, muggy Florida night, and headed to my shift.

***

You might be thinking: where does a seventeen year old high school dropout work after midnight? And the thrilling answer is: the grocery store, sort of.

You might be thinking: what?

But that’s Morton’s.

The sliding doors opened smoothly for me upon arrival, which was always a good omen. I straightened the newsstand and went to look for Barry.

My manager, a small, Dominican man who loved to party, was in the produce section with a woman I assumed was his latest girlfriend. He was chucking the moldiest vegetables into an open trashcan.

“Our fresh produce is a travesty,” I said. “When was the last time someone bought an eggplant here?”

“I’m thinking of moving the veg,” said Barry, “they don’t like the energy in this corner.”

Barry was constantly moving things around the small labyrinth that was Morton’s. At least once a month he would take an hour long stroll from shelf to shelf, while I wrote down what was going where. I made a new map of the store for every big move.

“What are you guys up to tonight?” I asked, as Barry followed me to the register, bag of moldy vegetables in hand.

“Dancing,” said his date, with an endearing round of jazz hands, as Barry broke into a stationary samba while he gave me a list of stuff to work on. He treated me to his own enthusiastic jazz hands, and a few notes of a Juan Luis Guerra song as he samba’d in the direction of the door. As it swung shut behind them, I let the intense silence of Morton's wash over me. The fluorescent lights hummed gently. The food sat well behaved in slightly crooked rows. I turned my brain down to its lowest setting, and consulted my list.

...

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imsofthelp · 4 years

Text

Category: fluff

Warnings: none

Word count: 2,414

Summary: After a bad breakup, you find yourself in the embrace of your best friend and things escalate quickly after that.

Your phone was ringing again. This would’ve been the tenth time in the last fifteen minutes. You chose to ignore it, not even checking who it was, because you were sure that it was your ex disturbing you at such an ungodly hour.

You opened your eyes, lids as heavy as bags full of rocks. Sunshine shone as bright as ever but even brighter than other days while the constant breeze was just perfect and kept it from getting too hot. Even the birds outside were chirping, reminding you that they existed at 5am. It seemed like the day was going to be perfect.

It took ten seconds, if not less, for that bubble to be blown. The sudden headache was terrible and your shirt was still wet from tears, meaning you fell asleep for half an hour at best, probably not even for that long.

A shiver ran up your spine - even on a warm morning like this one you needed a blanket to feel comfortable.

You almost gave in to the wish to stay in bed for a whole day, doing absolutely nothing except watching some stupid reality TV and gobbling down whole tub of ice cream. But you decided against that.

You were broken in every possible way after your breakup. You screamed, you doubted your decision, you got drunk and then cried some more.

You couldn’t let yourself be like that cliche heartbroken TV show character anymore. Four days in a row of crying enough to fill rivers and eating enough ice cream to last a whole decade. Today was the day you ended that self-loathing cycle.

Warmed by the sunlight which slipped into your bedroom through the big glass windows without any curtains, your feet touch the floor.

You tried to reassure yourself that everything was going to be fine but as soon as you stepped the first step, your feet landed on a dirty lid of ice cream tub. Cussing out loudly, you hopped to the bathroom like you were playing classes or hopscotch.

After discarding your ice cream and tear stained pyjamas into an already full laundry basket, you relaxed into the bath. Setting the water temperature just right instantly made you feel better.

Warm water released the tension from your muscles and left you feeling so relaxed. You lay there for what felt like hours until a different ringtone was coming from your bedroom.

With a towel around your naked form, you made your way to the phone being careful not to step on any more lids.

The phone vibrated in your hand, the screen flashing with the name “ALIEN QUEEN xoxo” and picture of your best friend smiling widely while showing peace signs with both hands.

Without hesitation, you picked up.

“You finally picked up!” screamed Mina and you had to move phone a few inches from your ear, afraid that it will make you deaf.

Mina definitely had no such thing as inside voice, “I was scared!”

Oh, so that was the person that was calling you. Well, you were dumb to except your ex to actually give a fuck about you.

Hearing the tone of her voice full of worry made guilt shoot up your body. You could bet your ass that there were like 20 missed calls from her.

Shifting your weight from one leg to another, you listened to her ranting and scolding you like a child. You paced a few steps forward and back. To this day you couldn’t figure out why you couldn’t just sit still while speaking on your phone. It was truly a mystery that science couldn’t explain.

“Are you even listening to me?” Mina asks after a few moments of silence.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, I’m just...” you swallowed, breath hitching in your throat,

“My emotions are still all over the place” you explain, now observing your reflection in a dirty spoon you found on the table.

“You okay?” she asks with concern clear in her voice.

“I’ll be fine. Finally took a shower to not to look like a hot pile of trash anymore.”

Mina laughs and you feel a smile creeping up your face.

“Still hot, though,” she teases, “You wanna come to my place, watch a bunch of shitty movies and finally get over that asshole?” You can hear her smile and unintentionally smile wider yourself.

An answer leaves your lips way before you think through with it:

“Hell yeah!”

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

Neon red lights in Mina’s living room casted weird shadows on the bright pink walls, making you even more dizzy than you already were.

Loud music was blasting while you swung your hips and moved your free hand (the other one was busied by a champagne glass) to the rhythm as the lyrics were blurring in your mind.

In the neon red light Mina looked like death, or, more like, deathly stunning. From the way she danced so passionately to the music, how her free hand constantly buried itself in her soft pink hair and to the way that her sparkly mini-dress hugged her toned yet soft body.

Hell, you didn’t know if it was the alcohol messing with your head or the pain of broken heart that was begging to be healed by anyone. You really weren’t that against anyone being that hot.

Mina grinned, white pearly teeth hugged by plush, glossy lips. Her eyes were half-lidded as her hand reached out to you, as if she was trying to pull you into her with some invisible power.

You felt like a mortal about to be seduced by a goddess.

“Dance with me?”

Maybe it was her invisible power, because soon your hands were on her waist with her own resting on your neck. One hand was running up and down your back as you both struggled to spin to the rhythm of the fast song.

You leaned closer to her, laying your head on her shoulder. Her hot breath burned like fire against your skin, sending shivers up and down your body.

She smelled like vanilla and fancy perfume and you felt as if you had been spellbound, closing your eyes and letting the moment carry you away.

Songs changed but two of you stayed in the same position. It was only your hand constantly reaching to touch her hair and Mina giggling from time to time, whispering words that you couldn't quite catch.

This was probably very wrong. Not the dancing, no, you were best friends but the thoughts you were having about Mina were wrong. Blaming the alcohol for mixing up your thoughts and your mental state after the breakup, you closed your eyes. Letting the music carry you. Letting yourself have no thoughts even if it was just for a second.

“Hey,” you raised your head, Mina gently brushed a strand of hair out of your face. She paused for a moment as if she wanted to do something more with her half-lidded mascara smudged eyes. You couldn’t read her expression, “Want to watch a movie?”

You didn’t really want that, but you hoped that after sitting down for awhile you‘d feel better. Or at least get these inappropriate thoughts that were clouding everything out of your head.

The neon lights were turned off as if that the party was over, and Mina turned on some channel on her huge tv. You weren't surprised about pricy, fancy stuff around her place anymore as she assured you that 'Hero work pays.'

“What do you want to watch?" you asked, trying to find a comfortable position on her bright pink sofa, littered with what seemed like at least a hundred pillows.

Mina mindlessly flipped through the channels with apathetic look painted on her face.

Then, she stopped.

"Oh, 'There's Something About Mary' is on!" Mina turns to you with a smile as bright as always on her face, "Have you ever seen it?"

You nodded of course. It was one of those rom-coms that was on tv quite often that you liked. You found the story of a hopeless geek still pining after his high school crush, funny and it was a good laugh from time to time.

"Great, then let's watch it!"

You were about fifteen minutes into the movie when Mina began to wriggle closer to you.

"Mind me?" she asked, as she delicately laid her head on your lap.

You felt your breath hitch again in your throat, swallowing, to not let your voice waver.

"No, no," you stuttered out, "Not at all."

She flashed you one of those dazzling smiles and went back to watching the movie.

You tried not to be so tense, but it was as if your body didn't want to listen to your commands.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even realise the ending credits playing.

"You know, I really don't like that plot about many guys pinning after one girl," Mina began, mindessly playing with the hem of your shirt, "But there's one quote in there that is basically my life motto, 'Who needs him? I’ve got a vibrator!'" she said those words with such enthusiasm, that you couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah."

You could almost ignore her slender fingers flushed against your hot skin. God, was it always so hot in this room?

It was so silent for a moment. You could hear your own heartbeat ringing in your ears.

Then she leaned closer. It seemed that she wanted to tell you something, a secret that was so sacred, that only you were allowed to know. As if curiosity got the better of you, you leaned in, forgetting the quote 'curiosity killed the cat', and then realised hat you were fully ready to endure that secret, as one would endure the pleasure of cold ice cream on a cold summer day.

Lips danced plush against each other, teeth clacking at the raw, sudden contact. You cought Mina's eyes widening, as if she wasn't expecting your response to this kiss.

All you could taste was mint gum. The smell of vanilla was so close, too. Not close enough.

Pushed by blinding desire and alcohol, your hands cupped her soft face, one running down her soft cheeks, not believing the texture as silky as that could be of someone's face and another found its way to her hair, pulling her even closer.

Colors and hues of emotions danced inside you, blue for the color of her dress and the sadness of your own mixed thoughts, yellow for the lingering smell of vanilla and your worry and red for the passion and that dangerous neon hue. That was her — stunning and absolutely deathly.

The need of oxygen made you pull away, only for a moment to catch a few deep breaths. Then you were grabbing her face again, pulling her in, feeling her already bruised lips with her own.

Mina moaned into the kiss, and after hesitating for a moment but getting assurance by the sudden soft pull at her hair, she let her hand travel under your shirt.

You let her do that as your own hands were lingering on her defined waist, hugged by the midnight blue mini-dress.

A soft bite to her lip before pulling away and then before you realised it, it turned into a full make out session.

It was perfect at that moment — like a shot out of a movie but then the bubble you were in broke. And you fell.

Mina pulled away, not letting you lean in again as her hands finding their way to her sides, almost shamefully.

A questioning look painted your features. You were confused. It all felt so good, why did you have to stop?

"...This is wrong," she managed to speak out, pushing you away.

You felt something sting inside.

"I don't follow, what do you mean?"

Mina sighed, standing up. It seemed that she wanted to add more distance between the two of you.

"Have you ever dated a girl, Y/N?"

"...No."

"Well, I have. I dated too many straight girls, who were just experimenting for fun. Enough of them. Enough of tearing my own heart out,"

The volume of her voice gradually grew and her hands crossed against her chest.

"But, Mina-"

"You're drunk, Y/N," she answered, not looking at you, "It'll be best if you pick your stuff up and leave."

Your hands were clutched against your chest, heart beating as if it wanted to leave your body.

"Mina..."

You stepped closer and she stepped back, still not looking at you.

Tears stung your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

"I always felt as if we were connected more than friends and then you started dating guy, after guy, after guy," Mina murmured, almost too quiet to hear, "And my high hopes were stomped. I realised there's no happy endings for girls who fall for straight girls, Y/N. No happy ending for girls like myself."

"It's not like that-"

Tears fell down her face when she finally looked up. Somehow, it hurt more than when she screamed at you.

"Go home, Y/N!"

"We can-"

"Go home, for fuck's sake! You're drunk, go home!"

Everything went fast after that when you let your clouded mind lead you back to your place, back to your bed. You didn't get any sleep that night.

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

Ring. Ring. You bit your lip, praying that she would just pick up.

Ring. Ring.

Ring.

You sighed, moving the phone away from your ear, ready to press the red button until you heard a groggy voice.

"Y/N?"

You breathed.

"...Yeah."

You heard her sigh, as you felt your own body tense up.

"What do you want?"

You bit your lip harder, almost drawing blood.

"Come over," your voice almost broke, "Please."

"And then what?.. You want me to tell you that I fell for another straight girl, right into your face? Wanna make tell me that ‘We can still be friends after that make-out session?’ Wanna-"

You didn't let her finish.

"None of that. You'll see."

"Y/N."

"Come over. Would be a pity to ruin a surprise I have for you."

There was silence for a second too long and you wondered if she ended the call.

"...'Kay."

You said your goodbye and threw the phone on the couch. You hoped she liked red roses, chocolate cake and one nervous girl, who thought she was definitely straight, but fell for so strongly for a girl.

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

A.n: Sorry for not posting anything in so long. Things have been pretty bad for me lately, but I hope you enjoyed this one-shot. Imma just dedicate it to the girl I have this stupid crush on ^^

As always, thanks @velvet-kissesss for editing and thank you all for reading!

128 notes · View notes

missinghan · 4 years

Text

dawn ⤖ lee minho

❖ genre : runaway! au; demon!au; fluff; angst

❖ word count : 10k.

❖ warning : explicit language, mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : it seems like everyone has their own guardian angel, everyone but you because you’ve given up on Jesus the moment you come down to Lee Minho’s level and shake hands with the Devil.

one.

Your dad is definitely not gonna approve of you hanging by the bar alone after midnight.

It all happened too fast, and you don’t even know where you’re going next. After a call from your manager, which you almost fell asleep as he rambled about boring paperwork, until he dropped the bomb. He said he was sorry for what he’s gonna say next and turned out the label wanted to cut you loose. The entire universe was completely shattered right in front of your eyes. You were utterly speechless when the line went dead so long story short, you packed your bag and ran away.

Like a coward.

You stare blankly at the half-empty glass of Martini in your hand before chuckling lowly. Because life is a little son of a bitch, who’s born with the power to pull on everyone’s strings as if people are a bunch of puppets for whatever gods up there to entertain themselves. Getting signed into a music production company right after your graduation swept your life over with joy. Your parents were… overwhelmed to say the least but they still wanted you to move to Seoul. Two years later, your life once again was flipped upside down because of a single phone call. They didn’t even bother to call you in and meet face-to-face.

“Cheers to this motherfucker.” You almost laugh at your own miserable state but suppress it and down the whole glass in one go. “Another one.” You tell the barista absently and he just sighs before starting to mix your drink.

“Tough times ?” He leans over the counter and slides your drink across the wooden surface.

You gratefully take the glass, words slurred between hiccups. “You have no fucking idea.” Your eyes travel down from his defined features gleaming under the neon light to the name tag hanging off his white dress shirt. It reads ‘Kim Woojin’. You shake your head to lure the weariness away while your right hand reaching inside your pocket to pull out some cash.

But before you can place them on the table, Woojin stops you abruptly. “Keep a hold of them. This last one’s on me.” He sighs defeatedly. Judging by how you look right now, he must have thought that you’re some petty college girl who just got into a fight with her boyfriend and now you have nowhere to stay for the night so essentially, he wants to be certain that you’ll have enough money for a cheapass motel of some sort.

Woojin pats his wet hands onto the black apron wrapped around his hip. “You’ll need them more than I do.” And you feel kinda bad for him, partially because this place doesn’t serve cheap vodka like most bars, and partially because you’re now a somewhat burden to the bartender. “Listen, no matter how much bad shit happens, I’m sure you’ll be just fine. Besides, looks like that punk over there has already had his eyes on you the whole time.” He winks at you playfully before walking over to his coworker at the other side of the counter.

Speaking of the Devil… literally, not even sarcastically, a hollow presence seems to come into sight the moment you place your lips on the rim of the glass. You automatically reach your hand backwards only to find exactly what you’re looking for. “Do not touch me.” You deadpan, normally you would have felt bad by now upon your sudden discourtesy but unfortunately you’re not in the mood to be kind today. Hearing his melodic chuckle, you yank his hand away rather harshly, the coldness of his touch still chills you to the bone.

“Why so sad, bunny ?” He moves over to sit down on the nearby wooden bench, lips curled into a devilish smirk. Out of 7 billion people on this glorious plant, he chooses to pester a mundane mortal like you. Out of 365 days of the year, he chooses to visit you on the worst day of your life. Lee Minho is worse than Lucifer, it’s official.

Not enjoying your dull state, he cocks a brow at you. “You’re jobless because that stupid label doesn’t need you anymore. And now what ? Are you gonna be petty and depressed about it for the rest of your life ? Because if so, you’ll have a really shitty life Y/N. Do you really want your demons to come out and conquer the path ahead like it’s their fucking playground ?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Said a demon himself.”

“Then aren’t humans the closest things that we have to demons alive ?” Minho almost snickers at your suggestive remark, but he wouldn’t admit that it did sting a bit. After all, he is a demon, an epitome of a creature that’s second to Lucifer and his descendants generation, highly worshipped and exceptionally feared. And he’s low-key impressed that you didn’t throw yourself out the window when he stepped out of a wisp of black smoke the day you two first encountered.

You on the other hand didn’t know that he was too utterly soft for you to actually erase your memories. From then on, he would visit you occasionally at the godly hour when you’re close to kicking yourself in the process of composing or when you accidentally fucked up something. ‘Til this day, you still don’t know whether his concern for you is pure sincerity or he just finds your first world problems very amusing. You can’t tell either way.

Taking another sip of your drink, you groan slightly at the slight burn in your throat from the strong alcohol. “I mean ... fair point.” Your lips pursed unknowingly. “I don’t know Minho… I think I must have done something fucking messed up to be kicked out of the game like that. I wasn’t even thinking straight, you know, just packed my stuff and drove downtown. Ugh now I feel like shit.”

The demon in front of you glares at the glass of Martini coldly. He’s not letting you finish that shit after who knows how much alcohol that Woojin has permitted you to drink. “Do you think that overcoming cowardice is easy ? If it was that easy, everyone would go outside to get some fresh air, smell some flowers, meet new people; not fucking hide behind their screens and whatnot while talking trash about others like a bunch of scaredy-cats.” Minho spats, swiftly taking your drink away before you gulp it again.

Funny enough, you’re sitting at a bar with a demon, who’s obviously so done with your shit, but also the one that you have least expectations for listening and giving you advice. Just like how that one song goes.

Well, I shook hands with the devil

Down on the south side

And he bought us both a drink

With a pad and a pencil sat by his side

I said, "Tell me what you think".

Except that Minho didn’t buy you a drink, he actually stole yours.

“I may not know much about your world, but I’m confident that you’re very talented and passionate about what you’re doing. I saw how much effort you put into your work, staying up after midnight, heck, you barely got any sleep when you’re still working for that shitty company. I saw how much you care, Y/N and I don’t give two fucks about how much you’re doubting yourself because you’re so much more than that. I know you got this, you’re as stubborn as a human being can be, you’re not gonna let a tiny cut or bruised knee hold you back, are you ?”

You shake your head slightly, starting to acknowledge his words. You don’t get why you never noticed this but for a demon, Minho gives really good advice. In spite of his cocky personality because he thinks that he has every right to sass every human being out whenever wherever he wants to, his company always makes you feel fuzzy inside. It’s almost heartwarming but that makes no sense because demons are nowhere near ‘sweet and caring’.

A strange look flashes in his eyes when his eyes meet yours but before you can properly react, it vanishes. “You’re not drinking ever again… at least not for the time being.” He tells you off with his eyes before chugging the whole glass. Woah, good shit, he admits internally. And he’s mildly surprised that you’re taking this better than he’d thought. Other young producers would have been bawling their eyes out by now, not talking to a creature from the underworld.

“Alcohol helps me sleep.” You pout slightly, feeling the need to actually pay Woojin back when you get paid again. Oh wait… but you’re practically unemployed. “Insomnia is painstakingly arbitrary, like a needle that’s constantly pricking my spine whenever I’m trying to get comfy in bed. Guess I’m not sleeping tonight, thanks a lot.” You huff and lean over on the wooden counter, cheek pressed against your left upper arm.

Although Minho thinks that you look ridiculously cute right now with tinted pink cheeks and messy hair, he’s still not gonna buy you another drink. “They do say that insomnia is just another word for chit chatting with the demons during bedtime. And you’ve already wolfed down three fucking Vodka Martinis by the time I teleported here, aren’t you concerned about the stupid hangover tomorrow morning ? I swear to Lucifer— are you even listening to me right now ?”

Minho asks in disbelief when you stay unresponsive. The demon peels his eyes away from the empty glass and turns his head only to find you already fallen asleep, like a bear in hibernation. Your eyes are closed shut, chest heaving up and down rhythmically as you drift away from the cruel reality and into dreamland. Truth be told, you tend to fall asleep whenever he’s lecturing you a lot, and that gives him an excuse to stay for a little more than he should.

two.

Hangover hits you with a bang, almost knocks you out cold. But it’s not going to let you pass out, at least not before you start regretting the amount of alcohol that you chugged last night. Your eyes are still screwed shut, refusing to flutter open as your head throbs uncontrollably. Usually you would have been awake by now since you’re dumb enough to have white curtains instead of colored ones which helps the sunlight goes right through your apartment.

But something seems off today because there’s nothing that’s bothering your eyes. And you would definitely sleep in if it wasn’t for the strange feeling beneath your skin. Wait a second… A worrisome feeling runs down your spine, causing your eyes to open. You look down and check your clothes properly, everything stays the same except for… hold on, since when did you have a silky black sheet ?

“You woke up, finally. Be grateful that you’re on time for breakfast.” Someone’s voice booms in the distance when your eyes adjust themselves on the foreign surroundings. The studio apartment in front of you has your jaw dropped to the floor. Minimal yet modern pieces of furniture, a fully equipped kitchenette and an enormous window that gives you a breathtaking view of the whole city. This isn’t your apartment, is it ?

You groan loudly before pushing yourself off the bed and shiver slightly when your feet come in contact with the cold floor. “Tylenol’s on the table, you’re welcome.” Minho says nonchalantly as he has his back against you. You drag yourself to the dining table and pop the pills into your mouth before downing the glass of water beside them.

Yeah, no, you’re not drinking ever again.

“What are you doing ?” You ask him in a raspy tone and sniff your nose continuously at the aroma that’s filling the entirety of the apartment. Minho stays silent, deciding to fully concentrate on his current task. When you suddenly approach him from behind and place your head lazily on his shoulder, he almost drops the pot of freshly made soup. His chest swells a bit whenever you get close to his body, whether it is because it’s all in his head or just you having that kind of effect on him, he dares not to know.

“Tsk, you’re in my way, shoo.” He sneers, motioning for you to move so that he can transfer the pot over to the table in peace. Minho quickly scoops the thick liquid into a smaller bowl and gives you a look. You just stare at the hearty soup in complete awe, mouth slightly watered. No one has ever cooked for you before, much less a pot full of hangover soup. And you would be lying if you said that you’re not touched right now because you feel like it’s been forever since you’ve had homemade food.

Lee Minho never changes, still ever so caring.

He sits down at the table and pushes the bowl towards you. “Eat this and write me a 1000 words essay for instant feedback later.” Without a word, you automatically take a spoonful into your mouth, almost choking because of how hot it is. “Dude, it’s not 1945 anymore. If this goes on, you’re not gonna die from anything other than choking yourself.” He purses his lips at your eagerness, dabbing the excess soup away with a napkin on the corner of your lips.

After coughing furiously, you figure that your voice can finally function normally. “I didn’t know that you can cook, god this soup is everything.” In the next ten minutes, you finish inhaling the whole bowl as if you’ve walked through the desert, searching for an oasis for a week straight.

You’ve never let anyone cook for you other than your parents because one, none of your friends can cook, Changbin almost burnt your apartment down while Jisung came up with the idea to crack eggs with a knife; and two, you still remember a creepy story you once heard on a podcast vividly. Basically, there’s this girl who allowed her date to make her a meal on their very first encounter. She was hospitalized a week later, suspecting food poisoning but the test results came out as cannibalism. Yikes.

“Demons eat souls, not human flesh you paranoid bitch.” Minho reads your thoughts in a matter of seconds before taking his wooden spoon and smack you on the head. He looks unimpressed right now, he really does because he’s so over your delusional ass from binge-watching way too many investigation related shows at three a.m. “They’re not even that tasty, I’d rather have a boring sandwich.”

You scoff at him, rubbing the spot where he hit previously. “You can’t have mine then, it’s too dark for you.”

“A ‘thank you’ would be nice.” He almost grit, lips pressed into a thin line.

You stand up from the wooden stool and carry the dishes over to the newly renovated silver sink. “This is your place ?” You ask while turning on the faucet to spray water all over the dirty bowl. “It’s really nice, not gonna lie. Just not as nice as mine.”

When you’re having your back against him, Minho looks somewhat guilty. What would Hyunjin say if he found out that his roommate brought a mundane mortal home and even made her a bowl of hangover soup ? “For the time being, it is.” Whatever, Hyunjin’s staying in Italy for a good two weeks anyway. With a little bit more effort of ridding off your human scent and reorganize some stuff, Minho can pretty much pass without being suspected. “And what do you expect ? That I’m gonna leave you at the bar where sketchy people are getting wasted ? FYI, a demon doesn’t necessarily have to own a place where it’s just full of miserable souls swimming around. I take my beauty sleep very seriously, actually, all of us do. Even Satan.”

You carefully line the dishes up on the white rack next to the sink and sighs. “Beauty sleep ? I don’t know her.” When you turn around to face Minho, his lips are slightly curled upwards. “What, Minho ?” You ask, slightly annoyed.

He props his head onto his palms and cocks his head to the side. “What will you do now ? Going home is a no-no, obviously, and I believe that your coworkers/best friends are flipping the whole city upside down looking for you so your apartment isn’t really an option anymore. What’s next Y/N ?”

You think for a bit and hum. “Technically I’m running away ...so…why not make the best out of it ?” Then, something clicks and your eyes lit up in mischief. “I have an idea. It’s genius, a fucking genius idea.”

Minho immediately shakes his head furiously, looking like he’s encountering a panic attack. “Hate it.”

“You love it, don’t even lie to yourself.”

“It’s humiliating.”

You reach your hands inside your pocket to look for your keys. “Too late.” That’s when Minho knows that he doesn’t have a say in this.

three.

“You know what’s more fun than this ?” Minho supports himself on his knees as his breaths come in short, he feels like he’s gonna throw up. Being on a rollercoaster is most definitely scarier than attending a meeting with the Underworld Authority. He still doesn’t get why humans enjoy torturing themselves as a form of pure entertainment when they can do something like educate themselves by reading more books. “Hearing Lucifer play the fiddle, the Devil plays it damn good and a fun demon to hang around. He’s a real entertainer, trust me. Just hire a lawyer beforehand if you’re signing any contract with him.”

Minho’s making it sound like you’re planning on having ‘a thing’ with Lucifer meanwhile he practically follows you everywhere, watches your every move and you think that’s close enough for an example of the infamous slavery contract.

You run a hand through your hair and exhale in satisfaction. Since middle school, you haven’t really got a chance to come to amusement parks before. You’re far too caught up with the new tempo to life these days. “Come on, it’s not that bad. It ain’t my fault when you can’t teleport us both to somewhere further.” You almost laugh at his current state; disheveled hair, beads of sweat rolling down on his forehead, and he looks as pale as a ghost like he just saw one. Not like he’s terrified of ghosts or anything, actually, he might be scared of heights.

“You can’t teleport with me for fuck’s sake, even when I want to, you’ll end up disintegrating into dusts forever because your mortal body doesn’t have enough energy to recollect itself piece by piece.” Minho grits and shakes his head slightly to adjust the messy mop of hair on his head. He looks really cute, you think. Like a cat that’s trying to clean itself but can’t quite reach the itchy spot.

Upon your stubbornness because he knows too well that you just wanna see him being drowned in misery, Minho can’t help but roll his eyes. “And can you get any dumber ? You have a fucking Range Rover and a valid license. Technically, there’s no law against driving with a demon sitting in your vehicle. Ugh, I really should have left you at the bar last night.”

Right when you’re about to snap back at him with a witty comment, your phone buzzes loudly. And your eyes are about to jump out of their sockets the moment you open up the device. There are more than thirty missed calls, from your family and friends along with countless texts filled with nothing but concern. Changbin and Jisung both work under the same label as you so you assume that your family already knew everything. Now you feel guilty for running away so spontaneously because after all, you do have people who are always willing to be there for you.

[ 3:25pm ]

jisung | dude, I’m outside, open up

jisung | we know everything already

changbin | Y/N I’m bringing food over, you’re gonna binge-watch Netflix with us whether you want to or not

[ 3:27pm ]

jisung | uhm, hello ? Y/N ?

changbin | we’re breaking in if you’re not coming out, FYI

[ 3:35pm ]

jisung | you know I have the keys right, we’re gonna go in

changbin | this isn’t fucking funny

jisung | stop being such a stubborn piece of shit

[ 3:36pm ]

jisung | Y/N where the fuck are you ?!

changbin | …. look, just go home, your family are worried sick

[ 3:45pm ]

jisung | at least call me back ?

changbin | whatever you’re planning on doing, don’t do it

[ 9:23pm ]

chan | call me, I’m not going anywhere

Sensing your racing thoughts and seeing your tense posture, Minho swiftly takes your phone away from your hand and drops it into his pocket. The last thing he wants to see is you curled up into a ball and cry alone in the bathroom. “You’re so rude ? What kind of human are you, Y/N ? This is how you’re treating your date ?” He huffs, arms crossed in front of his chest like a little kid. But wait, a date ?

“This is not a date, Lee Minho, stop flirting with me.” You knit your brows together in confusion when his eyes twinkle. What’s with his demon nature being on steroids right now ? “Give me my phone.” You order.

“It’s a date when I say that it’s a date.” Minho reaches his hand outwards and links his fingers with yours. He quickly narrows the proximity between the two of you, backing you up against a wall. Utterly speechless, you find yourself dumbfoundedly melting into his touch. How can a demon possess such radiant warmth and tenderness ? Is it all just a facade or does he seem more human when he’s around you, you can’t tell either way. But what you do know is that when you relax a bit and let him hold your hand properly, it fits like a glove.

Minho cocks his head and cracks a smile. For the longest time, you’ve never noticed anyone looking at you with so much sincerity and affection. Maybe it’s all in your head after all. “What now ? You wanna watch a movie and put our hands into the popcorn at the same time to see what’ll happen or nah ?” You question, but it feels more like a question towards yourself.

Minho chuckles lightheartedly. “You’re so damn predictable Y/N.”

The rest of the night is absolutely magical. You feel like you’re acting in one of those One Direction’s music videos that’s not the typical ‘too good to be true’ kind. It really does remind you a lot of ‘Night Changes’ when Minho almost slips while holding onto you like a cat that just came in contact with water. Meaning, if it weren’t for your mediocre ice-skating skills way back from middle school, everything would have been exactly like the music video itself, in which you don’t mind. Because it’s Lee Minho, because his warm presence is something you never knew you needed in your life, because you always have this sense of comfort and happiness even when he starts cursing so loudly that your ears bleed. Demon or not, him being him is truly a blessing already.

Minho says. “I told you it’s humiliating.” He links your hand into his before stuffing it inside his pocket and drags you away from the front entrance. His hand’s got a lot warmer from staying inside his coat for so long and that makes him more human than ever. In which, makes you feel fuzzy.

“You freaking loved it, you can’t tell me otherwise.” You shake your head in denial.

“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes for the tenth time. “Let’s go home.”

four.

The next day, Minho somehow convinces you to drive back to your apartment for packing. Not for running away this time, he’s had enough of that shit. But for a trip back to your hometown instead ( you really should have gone deeper into his ‘let’s go home’ from last night ). The flight will take approximately ten hours or more so he only gives you two hours to pack before leaving. You basically spend half an hour picking out clothes from the messy walk-in closet and another ninety minutes to fit all of them into your suitcase while having a mental breakdown inside your head.

Because gosh, what would they think ?

You’ve scared them all shitless for the last two days and now you’re just gonna show up at the front door and go “Hey, I’m done being miserable now.” ? Sounds like a pretty solid plan but you doubt that your mom’s not planning to beat you up with her favorite broom that’s covered in nothing but dust and spiderwebs. Not to mention, your brother is definitely gonna grill your ass for causing such a commotion in your family. You can already imagine him waiting for you at the foyer with crossed arms, getting ready to lecture the heck out of you.

“Did you lose your favorite pair of shoes or something ?” Minho suddenly fades into your room, making you jump slightly. You’ve got used to his particular ways of intruding your personal space but the demon never seems to fail at surprising you.

You glare at him. “Look who’s being rude now.”

Minho purses his lips. “I didn’t know humans were notorious for being terribly indecisive when it comes to their belongings.” He almost sneers, leaning back against your bedroom wall.

“That’s not the problem.” Yeah, that’s not the problem because not every human takes pain in packing their stuff, it’s just a ‘you’ problem. “I’m coming home after scaring the shit out of my loved ones. I wouldn’t blame them if they hated me, it’s just that I don’t know what to say. What do I say in situations like this ? School didn’t teach me that.” A sigh escapes your lips as you kick your suitcase towards the door. And you’re kinda glad that Changbin and Jisung left your apartment last night, specifically when you called them at one a.m. because you were driving back with a demon right next to the shotgun window.

Minho politely grabs the doorknob and pushes the door open for you. Now that was a first. You almost smile at his out-of-nowhere kind gesture. Normally, he would have teleported to the front porch and complained about how you’re always taking so long. “Hurry up dumbass, we don’t have all day.” He raises his brow at your thoughts.

“Tsk, you’re not the one who’s driving.”

Minho can’t drive, sadly. Partially because he doesn’t see the point in moving around in a fucking box with four wheels when he’s fully capable of teleporting from one place to another within a snap of his fingers. And partially because he can’t afford erasing some cops’ memories because they might have some kind of innovative technology that’ll automatically record when things go down. Another reason is that he might or might not chug a whole bottle of whiskey while driving just because he feels like it.

“It’s cold, roll down the windows.” Minho reminds you when he enters your car because gosh, you always love to keep the temperature at a minimum of 71 degrees even when it’s freezing outside. His cold-hearted demon ass is quaking because another cold case remains another mystery for the entirety of humanity. “You’d be a badass demon, just saying. I’m surprised that you’re still alive at this point.” He shakes his head in disapproval and leans forward to turn off the AC. Not because he’s cold but he’s afraid that you’ll actually freeze to death before you two can even make it to the airport.

You kick the brake when the first red light occurs. “Just admit it, you’re cold. If anything, you can always hold my hand.”

“Okay,” He blinks numerous time at your reply. When did you become such a brat ? You’ve been acting like him these past few days and now he knows how it feels like. Woah, he does act like an old, bitchy cat. “Who taught you that ?”

You say, sparing him a slight smirk. “You know, only the best of the best.”

“Just don’t act like that in front of your parents, will you ?” Minho scrunches his nose at your particular way of having a civil conversation. “You did tell your parents right ?”

You nod. “Yeah, I told them that I was gonna go home sooner or later. I even texted Chan— OH MY GOD,” You let out the loudest gasp whilst trying to make sharp turn at an intersection.

“What the fuck is wrong with you ?” He gasps in disbelief at your sudden outburst, holding onto the side of your car for dear life.

“I can’t just bring a demon home !” You cry out. “You’d be considered safe if it weren’t for my brother. He just happens to be home for break. God, do you know how protective he is when it comes to bringing a guy home ?!” One time, you asked your desk mate from highschool to do a project at your house and Chan didn’t even hesitate to put him on trial. Luckily, they talked things out pretty smoothly and became friends later. Now Felix’s probably the only guy who wouldn’t be thrown off a cliff for breathing in the same room as you.

Minho stares at you weirdly for a full twenty seconds, and that makes you think he’s mentally judging you, which he totally is. “Wouldn’t me being your boyfriend the best option then ?”

“Are you dumb, or are you dumb ?” You haven’t dated anyone since elementary school and the relationship didn’t even last a week. And now out of nowhere you’re just gonna bring a ‘boyfriend’ home after running away ? That’s practically equivalent to adding fuel to the fire and you doubt that Minho’s comprehend the situation correctly. That’s it, you’re officially letting all hell break loose from here. “Yeah, go ahead and be my boyfriend if you wanna sleep with the fishes.”

He throws a look at you. “Is that a challenge ?”

“Better not dress like that in front of my family then.” You glance at his bold choice of a silky wine colored dress shirt along with leather pants and combat boots. Can’t have him walking around looking like a celebrity now, can you ? Although he does look good in them… so annoying.

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

However, Minho’s outfit is most definitely the least of your worries.

five.

“Don’t tell me that you thought this through because-“

Minho says in a hushed tone. “I did think this through, baby. Loosen up a bit.” A devilish smirk blooms on his lips as he tucks some loose strands of hair behind your ear. He really needs to stop doing that because you’re already a blushing mess. He switched out his usual clothes and went for a comfortable hoodie with some jeans and sneakers. You hate him even more now because the demon easily pulled off the perfect boyfriend look.

Grimacing, you slap his hand away. “I’m not your fucking baby. And keep your hands to yourself, will you ?” And with that, you turn on your heels and make a beeline towards the kitchen where everyone’s busy setting up the table, leaving him in the living room alone.

Minho unconsciously plops himself onto the white faux leather couch and looks around in awe. Your house sort of symbolizes you because it’s minimal in the best way with a white color scheme and the occasional colorful tiny details on some of the decorative pieces. He starts pondering about how you never told him anything about your family in Australia. And although you grew up in a pretty well-off household, you didn’t flaunt your wealth. That makes you much more admirable in his eyes because not everyone can keep their mouth shut for more than two seconds when it comes to money.

Truth is, when your parents saw Minho for the very first time, they totally freaked out and drove to the nearest supermarket to shop for more ingredients. Now the house is filled with the aroma of a variety of grilled meat, vegetables, seafood and rice. He finally understands why you’re always homesick because gosh, who wouldn’t miss this kind of homemade food ? Minho props his head onto his hand as he watches your hard-working back figure from the living room, arranging the dishes onto the dining table with a smile on your face. And that stirs something inside him, he just doesn’t want to know it yet.

And Berry - your very much spoiled dog - is absolutely terrified by his dark presence. She keeps barking whenever he tries to pick her up, then ends up whimpering in the corner later. “Berry, don’t be rude ! He’s no stranger to us now.” Your mom nags while looking at Minho with an apologetic look. “Minho, honey, come join us. There’s no need to be so formal.” She offers him a seat at your family’s table warmly and he can already see where you got your smile from.

When he beams at her words and quickly takes the seat right beside you, you secretly roll your eyes at him. “I didn’t know dogs were supposed to be scared of demons. This is so obvious.” As you continue to complain about how he’s not acting naturally and all in a small tone, your hand automatically reaches for the chopsticks and picks out some lamb loin chops onto his plate. Minho simply brushes your words off, muttering a quick ‘thanks babe’ before pressing a kiss on your cheek.

Your eyes widen in surprise at his action, immediately darting towards your family members else whom have already gathered around. But before you can react properly, your dad cuts you off. “How sweet of you two.” He shows that signature ‘dad smile’ which never fails to melt your heart. “Don’t they remind you of us when we were young, dear ?” He tells your mom.

“Certainly, I still remember how—“

“Uhm, so, how did you two meet ?” Your brother - Chan - who’s sitting across the table tries his very best not to gag and changes the topic before things get out of hand. Your dad used to tell you about his first encounter with your mom, their first date and etc.. as an alternative version for the regular bedtime stories session. Chan has known too much already.

“We met at a dinner through a mutual friend during her business trip to Paris. I knew she didn’t come from Europe so if I didn’t ask for her number then, we would never meet again.” Minho has already made up a story during the dreadfully long flight, now all he has to do is read outloud. Easy mode. “We kept in touch and eventually, I moved back to Korea to meet her and stayed with her since then.”

Chan hums as a response, he doesn’t hate Minho yet, you can tell. “Why didn’t you tell me about him, Y/N ? Dad was so close to talking to Felix’s parents about setting you two up.”

You gulp slightly to hide your nervousness. Under the table, Minho squeezes your hand in reassurance, and that gives you enough courage to explain slowly. “I didn’t want to freak you out with our long distance relationship. You might go nuts knowing that I’m dating a guy who I’ve only met once and he’s nearly six thousand miles away.” And setting you up with Felix ? You would never let that happen. Not in a million years. It makes you shiver just thinking about holding your highschool deskmate’s hand while walking down the aisle. “And dad, Lee Felix ? Really ? I would rather be single.”

Your dad laughs. “Come on, he’s a pretty decent boy. Too bad he’s traveling overseas right now or I might invite him over.”

“So, Minho,” Chan sips on his drink. “What do you do for a living ?” When you two arrived at the front door, he finds such little amount that Minho’s luggage holds a bit skeptical, as if your relationship and the idea of coming home happens overnight. And how he wears clothes pretty casual too for a first time meeting the parents but Chan knows better than to judge a book by its cover. However, he wants to make sure that your ‘boyfriend’ doesn’t do drugs of any kind.

Minho doesn’t even hesitate. “I’m a dancer and owns a dance studio with my friend after when I flew back to Korea. I was in Paris for an internship over the summer.” You just sit there, blinking at him in disbelief like a total dumbass. Now you’re starting to wonder how it feels like to dance with the Devil. And if it weren’t for him kicking your leg under the table, your face would have given it away.

“Hmm, interesting.” Chan nods in acknowledgement. Well, at least he’s not unemployed… could have been worse.

Your mom advises thoughtfully as she walks over to the kitchen aisle and refills the plate of beef. “Oh, and be careful with the sauce for the lamb, it’s quite hot. If you’re not good with spicy food, just leave it out.”

“No, it’s fine. Actually, I can handle spicy stuff pretty well.. unlike someone over here.” Minho glances over at you. You immediately gut him with your elbow, earning a low grunt followed by a lighthearted chuckle of your family members.

“Minho can handle spicy things only because he’s getting old. His taste buds are losing their senses.” Your comment is partially true because he once told you that he’s been around for quite awhile. Definitely a lot older than the new batch of demons. He stopped counting at some point but ensured you that it’s somewhere from fifteen thousand and twenty thousand.

Minho looks at your sternly as the corners of his lips curled up. You’re already low-key mortified of what he’s going to say. “If you’re gonna act like a brat for the rest of the night, I’ll have to make sure that your legs will lose their sense by tomorrow morning.” Yep, there it is. You’re so used to his flirtatious remarks to the point that they don’t faze you anymore but having your family witness this is another level of torture. Minho’s definitely the type of guy ( if he were an actual human being ) who can’t be bothered about publicity and would straight up kiss you in the middle of the street.

And it doesn’t help either when Chan just doesn’t laugh loudly at your ‘boyfriend’s’ less than appropriate joke, he’s also on his side. Along with your parents. “I like you, not everyone can make her shut up like that.” Your brother nods in approval, clapping happily like a seal. Your parents even supply unhelpfully. “Try to keep it down and use protection, okay kids ?” Is this what betrayal feels like ?

You feel so adopted at that moment.

six.

“What the hell are you doing here ?” You try to groan as quietly as possible when you find Minho creeping up to you in the living room. “What part of ‘you can take my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch, wake up before everyone else then come back to my room later on’ couldn’t you understand ?” A compromise was almost made, and he fucking blew it.

He chuckles and looks at you dreamily. For a second there, you really thought that he was sleep-walking. His brown hair is in a bird nest, accommodated by a pair of plaid pants and white t-shirt. This prick never fails to make your heart skip a beat. You’re glad that at least he doesn’t sleep shirtless like your brother. It gives you major nightmares since middle school just by waking him up every morning.

“I can’t sleep on a foreign bed..” Minho pouts. He really can’t, especially when you’re not around. And he’s not risking the chance of one of your folks or Chan accidentally. barging into the room when he’s doing some voodoo shit either.

You huff tiredly and walk over to him, grabbing the pillow from his arms before throwing it on the couch along with your blanket. Well, lucky him, your parents just happen to love ginormous couches and you’re far too lazy to drag him back to your bedroom. “Come here.” You order after plopping yourself onto the soft surface, letting out a prolonged yawn. Minho takes a good ten seconds to look at you again. He can’t help but keep staring like a creep when you’re in an oversized t-shirt with shorts underneath, exposing your bare thighs. You’re too cute for your own good.

You say when he remains silent. “Hurry up before I change my mind.”

He obediently nods, quickly settling down under the blanket. You two shuffle around for a bit until no one’s uncomfortable with less than a few inches away from each other. And when you decide to flip yourself over to face the wall, Minho gently pulls your back flush against his chest. Your eyes fly open at the sudden contact. “What-the-fuck-do-you-think-you’re-doing ?” You turn around and stare at him square in the eye.

Even in the dark, his eyes are gleaming with a demonic glint of silver. He beams innocently at your threatening tone. “Get comfortable ?”

“I mean…” You hesitate for a few seconds. Because you’d hate to admit but it does feel kinda nice having his warmth radiating off from underneath his thin shirt. It makes you feel fuzzy inside, more secure, more like you’re finally home. “If you don’t mind then…” You gather up every last bit of courage and energy to scoot yourself towards him, your arms snaking around on either side and hug his torso closer, your face buried in his chest.

And it takes every single strand of willpower for Minho to not jump and teleport to the nowhere. His breath starts to quicken when your body is practically attached to his. He didn’t expect this at all. It might be because you’re exhausted from the flight so you’re just far too sleepy to be conscious of your own actions. But anyhow, he’s not against the idea of having you in his arms like this. It makes him more relaxed knowing that you’re safe in his sound right here.

So Minho drapes one of his arms around your waist to hold you in place and the other underneath his head, straddling his legs with yours to keep them warm since you’re only wearing shorts. “Thanks for dinner, by the way.” He murmurs into your hair, taking in the scent of your familiar shampoo.

“If anything, you should be thanking my parents. They looked like they just saw Jesus when you first arrived.” You say and snuggle closer to him.

He chuckles, sending vibrations to the tip of your nose. “Admit it, your family’s in love with me. Even your brother isn’t half as bad as you made it sound. I think he would actually have nothing against our wedding.”

You make a face and lift your head upwards to look at him. “Dude, it’s just really good acting. Such a shame how the other Lee Minho gets the title of an actor when you’re over here stuck with being a demon.” If you’re being completely honest, you’re kinda scared right now. Because one, all of this is just a big play and when you fly back to Korea, it may seem like nothing has ever happened. And two, if this goes way too far, your family might disown you for ‘breaking up’ with Minho when he wasn’t even your boyfriend in the first place.

“Actually, I’d be glad to take the title of being your boyfriend instead.” And the thumping force inside your chest picks up the pace as you can feel your cheeks heating up. His simple acknowledgement makes you flustered, absolutely moonstruck. No one has ever said that to you before, well, partially because you’re super single but you can’t help but let those words affect you tremendously. “Where do you want to go for our honey—“

“We’re not getting married.” You hiss at him like a snake.

Minho draws a cat-like grin on his lips, mischief glistening in his eyes. “Nuh uh too late. I’ll consider you as my own from now on, Mrs. Lee.”

You reply flatly. “You talk a lot for a demon who treasures their beauty sleep. You’re not vampires and you don’t watch people in their sleep, do you ?” The only person Minho watches in their sleep is you, but he’s not saying that to your face. And that was one time, one-time.

Upon his silence, you raise a brow. “Wait, you do ?”

“Who I watch in their sleep is none of your business, Y/N.” He replies with flaming cheeks.

You giggle. “I knew it, you’re related to Edward Cullen.”

“No, not that bitch Edward !” Minho makes a disgusted face but can’t contain his laughter for long. God, what are you doing to him ?

seven.

You wake up with a cold sensation wrapping around your feet. With body shivering slightly, you instinctively nuzzle your head into the nearest heat source, retreating your legs deeper into the fuzzy blanket. Groaning, you shake your head slightly to shake the weariness away. This is why you hate long flights with a passion because you’re never not gonna be jet lagged for the rest of your life.

“Why do you always wake up so fucking early ?” Your eyes shoot open at the hoarse voice only to find Minho squinting his eyes at you sleepily with his bedhead and wrinkled shirt. He looks so human right now you can care less about the fact that you’ve just spent an entire night on your parents’ favorite couch with a creature from Hell. Definitely boyfriend material.

“My feet get cold easily in the morning, and that wakes me up.” You pout and hold his torso closer. Minho tries his best not to flinch when your arm brushes over his as the strangest warm feeling bubbles up inside his stomach. And you’re glad that he doesn’t snore and isn’t a messy sleeper. Just sleeps like the death, which makes sense. Unlike your best friend, Seo Changbin who sleeps like a fucking starfish with his four limbs wide open. Give him a king sized bed and he can still manage to have his blanket on the floor by the time the sun rises.

Minho runs a hand through the messy bird nest on his head which takes the breath right out of your lungs because it looks like those too good to be true shampoo commercials with people who have shiny, luminous hair. But those models spend hours on a wooden stool for their stylists to make it look like they didn’t even try but they’re not even close to Minho’s league because he needs none of that in order to look attractive.

Finally, he sighs. “Go back to sleep then.” He pulls the blanket down slightly to cover your feet completely and hugs your waist closer so that your upper body won’t be bothered by the morning breeze. “I’ll make breakfast later, what do your folks usually prefer ?”

You look up at him in awe. No one has ever offered such a sweet thing to do when they come over to your house. Not even your relatives ‘cause they’re far too busy bombarding you and Chan with questions about your personal lives rather than helping your parents out with washing the dishes after a meal is done. Minho might look cold and all but it’s all really just the typical demon facade that he’s trying to maintain. He’s actually really caring and thoughtful, you’ve found more sense of morality whenever you look into his eyes deeply than when you look at other people.

“Lee Minho is making breakfast for my family ? What’s this ? Is World War III coming ? Is the world hanging on the verge of ending ?”

He shakes his head at you in disapproval. “I just wanted to do something nice in return to last night’s dinner. Your parents really didn’t have to go all the way to the supermarket just because of me.” And he secretly enjoys seeing you munching happily on the food that he makes. How your cheeks are bunched up when you accidentally take too much of a bite, how your eyes light up in joy when you melt into the taste. He loves you for being you, for going all out without trying to act like a lady, eating quietly and shit.

You think for a bit. “They all have a big appetite, plus they’re not picky so anything will do. Just try to work with things in the fridge that you find promising ?”

“Oh okay.” Minho shrugs before leaning forward to press a kiss on your forehead. “Go back to sleep please, I beg. Jetlag is killing me, or else I’m gonna have to kiss you again and again until you get tired of me and doze off.”

With coral cheeks, you muster the calmest voice possible. “Is that a challenge ? Because if so, kiss me before I kick you off the couch.”

He smirks at you. “If you’re willing to.” As he leans in closer, you can feel your confidence level decreasing dramatically, your heart feels like it’s running on a treadmill endless. You’re no longer brave enough to keep eye contact so your eyes are screwed shut at some point, waiting for his lips to collide with yours.

Suddenly his phone buzzes obnoxiously on the coffee table, making you two pull away in a hassle. “Sorry, I gotta take this.” Minho says sheepishly as he sits straight up and grabs his phone. The apologetic smile on his face drops when he sees the caller’s ID. He swipes right to answer, placing the cool device close to his ear. “Yeah, Hyunjin ?”

“Hyung, you’re going too far. Come back.”

eight.

It’s been a few weeks later, and your family can’t stop gushing over how lucky you are to find a boyfriend like Minho.

You start getting daily voice messages from your parents, asking if you’re taking good care of yourself, if Minho’s treating you well, if anything’s been hard lately. Oh boy you sure regret running away before because your parents keep checking up on you every two hours. If not for Minho, they would have made you move back to Australia for who knows how long.

With that being said, Minho is obligated to move in with you. But you’re not complaining at all because cuddling with him is naturally carved into you like second nature. Even Jisung and Changbin didn’t bother to question why you start to have two mugs by the sink, two pairs of slippers by the shoe rack and a foreign smell of cologne all over your couch. They’ve probably figured it out that you got yourself ‘a man’ since the night that you came back to the apartment in such a rush.

And from then, you wonder why you’ve never considered having a roommate before. There are always really shitty excuses inside your head like : what if your roommate has some kind of questionable habits, what if they’re secretly a part of some mafia organization ? But really, it’s because he’s Lee Minho, because you’re too utterly soft for him. Nonetheless, you did learn a few things from spending more time with him rather than locking yourself up with work.

The feeling of having someone waiting for you to come home is beyond heartwarming. And you’ve also learnt to use your time and effort on someone else rather than just yourself. It actually feels really nice because his presence brings more than just a sense of comfort and happiness to you. There’s something about him that’s irreplaceable. As if he’s your soulmate, that one person who adores you to the moon and back, who’s willing to bring out the best in you and deal with you when you’re at your lowest.

But the whole concept of soulmate is still debatable because life isn’t just peaches and cream, it’s roses and thorns.

“Something’s bothering you, tell me.” You make the sharpest of a turn to the left to snap Minho back to reality. You don’t like when people keep ignoring your questions.

“Nothing’s bothering me.” He answers flatly. Obviously, he’s lying because he’s only spoken to you seven words maximum since you started the car. “Follow-the-GPS-to-reach-the-destination.” That’s it. No more. No less.

You scoff. “Something’s clearly bothering you. I don’t need your mind reading crap to know what you’re thinking.” You’re trying so hard not to take an argument out on him, especially when you’re driving to somewhere you don’t even know. But Minho’s not dumb, you bet he already had everything planned out on his mind. There’s a reason for everything, so you don’t have anything against driving in the middle of the night, just because he insisted you to.

He voices. “I’m thinking about surprising you.” And when you glance at him sideways, there are those specks of playfulness glistening in his midnight orbs again. But there’s also something else, and it’s unfathomable. “Trust me, you’ll love it.” He reassures you with a somewhat forced smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Fine.” You sigh in defeat, carefully pulling over not to hit the tree by the road.

Minho jumps out of the vehicle first. “We’re here.” You roll your eyes at him playfully and follows not long after.

And the sight in front of your eyes leaves you speechless. Even in the eerie darkness, your eyes can still make out the vibrant display of multicolored flowers all over the green field. The sweet scent soon fills your nostrils, making your eyes go wide in awe. “Come on, over here.” Minho links his hand into yours and drags you along the dirt road, trying his best not to step on any flower. Once he stops, you realize that you’re in the middle of the field, surrounded by the most surreal things that you thought could only happen in fairy tales.

The sky represents a black curtain being draped over your entire universe, with milky swirls and glitter specks dancing elegantly in various patterns. It’s transcendental, you think. How the sight have all of your worries and concerns disintegrate into dust, how you’re here with him as time seems to stop when he looks at you with nothing but pure devotion in his eyes. You’re hanging by this moment, waiting for him to say something. “Do you like it ?” He breathes out ever so softly.

You nod repeatedly. “I love it, thank you, thank you, thank you !” Mixed emotions burst inside your chest and you unconsciously fall into his embrace as if you were meant to be there all along. You bury your head into the crook of his neck, letting his more than familiar cologne hug you like a warm blanket.

Minho opens his mouth to say something but snaps it close later on. The bitterness inside is making him nauseous, burying every last bit of courage to the bottom pit of his stomach. He has so much, so much to tell you yet nothing comes out right.

He’s the first to pull away. “I’m glad that you like it, Y/N.” Take good care of yourself, okay ?

“Of course I like it, it’s everything !” You smile, not noticing how there are tears brimming in the corners of his eyes when it’s so dark outside.

Minho tries to hide the shakiness in his voice. “Close your eyes, the stars will grant a wish to whoever has enough sincerity and purity.” You’ll be fine without me, will you ?

“A wish ? I guess…” You close your eyes, tightening the grip on Minho’s hands, accidentally ignoring how his hands are getting colder, and colder by the second. “There, I made a wish !” Your eyes fly open as you giggle happily. “We should come here more often, don’t you think ? Promise me that we’ll be here every week.” You extend your pinky finger outwards.

Minho nods, intertwining his finger with yours. “I promise.” I’ll miss you.

As a silent tear rolls down on his cheek, his orbs flash a shade of crimson red.

eight & ½.

Changbin cries out dramatically. “Y/N, a little help over here ? Hello ?” He’s struggling real hard to open the door while carrying the groceries all by himself.

You quickly snap out of it, running to help him with the whopping five paper bags in his arms. “Sorry, I just thought that I saw someone who looked familiar.”

He cranes his neck tiredly after stuffing the bags into the backseats of his Tesla. “Could be some guy who reached out to you before. You know how the industry works, if they want you, they gotta have you. So be careful, creepy people are literally everywhere.”

“Right..” You trail off and jump into his car, shutting the door close. Even when Changbin twists his key and drives away from the supermarket, you can’t help but turn your head constantly to see if there’s anyone. On the way out, you made eye contact with someone, who has an odd ray of red in their eyes. Normally, things like this would have crept you out but you found an unexpected sense of familiarity in those eyes. Perhaps you’ve met before ?

But why… red ?

“Hey Bin…” You start. “Do you believe in soulmates ?”

Changbin snickers. “What the fuck is wrong with you today ? Are you sick ?”

You wave your hand to brush the topic off. “You’re right, I stayed up until three last night, can really use a nap right now.” Maybe everything’s in your head after all.

But little did you know, from across the streets, the silhouette of a demon who once shared unforgettable memories with you is embedded onto the cold brick wall. Minho has his arms crossed in front of his chest, mind blank, eyes empty. He only dares to watch in silence as your friend drives you away, fighting back the voices inside his head that are yelling at him to just hug you, to see your smile, to hear your laughter.

Little did you know, he longs to be by your side again. Minho tried to force himself into hating you but he can’t. He can’t because you taught him how to love, because you mean far more than just the universe to him, because blaming hurts more than trying to forget you. But before things get out of hand, he managed to get a hold of himself and decided to cut ties with you for good.

This is for the better, he keeps telling himself.

People say that there’s no sorrow in the demons. Since joy and sorrow are like fire and ice, there’s no possibilities for them to exist in the same subject. Demons are believed to find joy in those who despise God’s commands, and rejoice over this kind of sinister power. Therefore, there’s no sorrow in the demons. Meaning, demons can never feel heartbroken because they simply don’t have one.

If so, then why can Minho hear something shattering into pieces inside his chest ? That’s because he’s experienced something other demons aren’t supposed to. He finally knows what it feels like to actually be ‘someone’ to someone, what it feels like to think of them all day and smile stupidly about it.

And that’s something other demons are fortunate enough to not get themselves into. Because they wouldn’t want to know how painful it is to not being able to be with their loved one. Demons attract other demons by their scents so if a demon fell in love with a mortal being, that one human will live in constant danger.

Not to mention, it’s going against God to fall in love with someone who’s so different, so out of reach. And Minho could never risk losing you to anything but he can risk it all to protect you.

“I just feel so fucking broken.”

“You’ll be fine.” Hyunjin gently places a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

But it is love after all… what can he do ?

413 notes · View notes

reggies-eyeliner · 4 years

Text

Producer Man - Caleb Covington

PLEASE READ THE WHOLE THING I THINK I COULD BE ONTO SOMETHING

I totally didn’t do this when I should have been taking my quiz, nope, not at all! I was listening to Producer man and something sounded so...oddly familiar. The lyrics said,

“I am your only chance and you know you want it bad I'll make you a deal you can't refuse A deal you'd never lose,”

And I was literally staring up into the sky thinking, where have I heard this before?”

AND THEN IT HIT ME

“I'm chasing down a thrill, and lookin' fit to kill

So listen to the words a wise man said He said, "Covington, I got an offer that you can't refuse" (You Got Nothing to Lose in 1x09)

SO THEN I THOUGHT, “What if I wrote about this?”

So, after 45 minutes:

Alternate universe where no one is a ghost and they’re all in a few miles away from LA-- Julie wakes up in a room and has no idea where she is-- all she knows is that Caleb Covington gives Julie an offer to stay at his club inside a hotel and take a look at what he had in store.

𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝

Since Julie was only in somewhat early high school, she didn’t exact she didn’t know what she wanted and she decides to follow a long and see what was in it for her.

𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜 𝚆𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚎

Performing had always been Julie’s dream every since she was a kid-- but she just had a difficult time trying to figure out how to achieve it, considering that her mom had passed away when she had only started wanting to embark on her music career.

𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍, "𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚎 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛" "𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚛"

Suddenly, Julie brought her hopes up-- performing had always been her dream, so she agreed to Caleb’s offer and followed him once more to sign a few papers.

𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢

Although Caleb could see the potential in Julie, he decided to take that potential in order to make some money for himself.

𝙶𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝙻𝙰 𝙶𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢

After a few days, the two decided to head over to Hollywood together, where they chose to sign the form somewhere that they knew they could “start their journey.”

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝚃𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚑𝚎𝚛 '𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚢

The sad truth was that Caleb really didn’t have anything to lose, so he just knew that Julie was really talented for such a young age, and decided to use it in order to get rich, full of money as he led her over to her dressing room for her first performance.

𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍, "𝚂𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎" 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍, 𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐

At first, everything seems absolutely amazing-- she’s getting famous, people love her talent, she has over a million followers.

𝚃𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚘𝚕' 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚗

However, Caleb’s demeanor slowly begins to change as he tries to trick her to sign yet another form for another performance.

𝙷𝚞𝚎 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝙻𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚠'𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏

This time, Julie says no and gets up to leave, when Caleb waves his hand, explaining that it was part of a deal.

“Can’t I at least go home? You know, take a break-”

“'I am afraid, not, Miss Julie. Your home is hours away, and this was a part of the deal, you are expected to be working all hours. You may stay at the top floor of the hotel for the time being.”

𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊 𝚗𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚝

And now, Julie is stuck inside a hotel that she clearly doesn’t want to be in. Julie is now trapped in her hotel room, terrified to come out and face the world to perform again, when she hears a weird knocking noise on the roof.

“That’s weird... I’m the last floor up here,” so Julie heads over to the top of the building where she finds Willie standing up on the very top, and she finds that he’s wearing all black, sweating, and hiding behind the box. But the weirdest part? He’s glitching. Literally glitching, with the weird vibration noises and neon shades or pinks, blues, and greens.

𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙰 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎

She asks him who he is, but Willie doesn’t reply as he motions to his wrists, which were tied-- but for some reason, he’s like a ghost. She can’t touch him, but as soon as she let’s him free, he literally looks like he’s about to cry.

“I’m sorry about this, Julie,” he whispers.

“Sorry for wh-”

But in those moments, Willie snaps his fingers and in a flash, Caleb appears for a split second, glitches, and disappears.

...𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙰 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎...

Only this time, Julie wakes up feeling a bit weirder than she did before, as if she wasn’t in control of her own body. She can’t seem to control her actions or her thoughts, but there was this weird feeling that... she somewhat enjoyed it.

However, when Julie looks up, she finds a total of eight sets of monitors that appear to look like security cameras, and finds that they’re actually monitoring a room that looked somewhat familiar. Inside, she sees three boys-- one with a beanie, one with blonde hair, and another with a red jacket tied around his waist.

Julie gets up, unable to control the thoughts that came into her head as she steps out, opens the door to the room and greets the boys:

"𝚂𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 '𝙲𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚗..."

#what if caleb actually WASN'T the leader of the hollywood ghost club?#Is it possible that he got the job passed down to him?#AHH #jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp caleb covington #caleb covington #luke patterson #luke patterson jatp #luke julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms spoilers #reggie jatp #jatp reggie

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calypsomarshall · 4 years

Text

intro !

⌠ BRITTANY O’GRADY, 21, FEMALE, SHE/HER ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, CALYPSO NATALYA MARSHALL! according to their records, they’re a SECOND year, specializing in LINGUISTICS, CULTURE, & ASSIMILATION + ADVANCED ENCRYPTION; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (dark red combat boots, a mass of messy curls, the smell of coffee and cinnamon spice, ink stains on her fingers, multilingual curses falling off her lips). when it’s the (capricorn)’s birthday on 01/11/2000, they always request VEGETARIAN LASAGNA from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ lily, 20, she/her, gmt ⍀

[@gallagherintro]

|| CONNECTIONS PAGE || PINTEREST || ABOUT || STATS || BIO ||

[ c h a r a c t e r ; ]

the basics:

Full Name: Calypso Natalya Marshall

Nickname(s): Cal, Callie

Age: 20

Date of Birth: January 11th

Hometown: Brooklyn, NY

Ethnicity: African American

Nationality: American

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/her

Orientation: Bisexual

Language(s) Spoken: English, Russian, French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, German, Latin, Dutch, Mandarin, Japanese, Korean, Greek, Ancient Greek, Archaic Latin

Accent: Central American

Relationship status: Single

the personality:

zodiac sign: capricorn

mbti: INFP

temperament: melancholic

element: earth

enneagram type: type 5, the investigator

five positive traits: determined, loyal, hardworking, patient, intelligent

five negative traits: guarded, stubborn, impractical, self-critical, moody at times

likes: the smell of lavender and woodsmoke, the colors purple and red, the sound of busy new york streets at night time, neon lights, reading a good book, being flirted with

dislikes: cigarette smoke, ignorant people, rudeness, being vulnerable, feeling trapped, sports

bad habits: picking at her fingernails, tapping surfaces when anxious

hobbies: reading, learning languages, playing guitar, watching old sci-fi/horror movies, coding, flirting

fears: enclosed dark spaces, clowns, needles, car crashes

[ s t o r y ; ]

background:

born on January 11th to her mother Olympe and her father Alexei, she grew up in a little red-brick apartment in Brooklyn

her mother was a ballerina, having been a dancer all her life, and worked with a dance company as a teacher

her dad was always gone on ‘work trips’ (he actually worked as a spy, but never told calypso as he didn’t want her involved in his life)

he was a big part of calypso’s life when he was home - making blueberry pancakes for her on the weekend, teaching her a little bit of self defense, taking the family out to the movies, etc.

when he died she was 15 and it hit hard - calypso was told it was a car accident by his ‘company’ and her mother (though he was really killed in action on a mission)

her mother, grief-stricken, became distant - and plagued by the secret of her husband’s death, she became entirely focused on her job, leaving calypso alone at home most of the time

calypso became pretty closed off, choosing not to make any real friends to avoid opening up to anyone about her dad

instead spending countless hours reading and learning

she speaks french and russian due to them being her parents’ mother tongues

she used read all of her dad’s old mythology books as it would help her feel closer to him, and bring back memories of when he would teach her about constellations

however, when she was 17 she opened one his old books she found it hollowed out, with two extra passports of his (each holding a different name) and a wad of russian money

her mother finally broke and admitted everything when calypso confronted her, and told her that he was killed in action as a spy (though they were never given specifics) instead of a car crash

she instantly did as much research as she could on her father and how he died, which is how she picked up computer skills and hacking - to bypass firewalls on encrypted websites

managed to crack a firewall of a russian intelligence agency, which was coded in russian, ancient greek, and archaic latin to keep people out -- all languages she knew

this is how she was noticed by the school, as one of the alumni worked for the agency and had to rethink their whole security system after the attack

when she received her letter, she said yes instantly, knowing it was her only chance to either find out what happened to her dad through the school, or gain the skills to find out the truth on her own

now:

she can get super obsessive about things, and buries herself in her studies - unfortunately, not always the ones she needs to be doing for school - but the things she’s most interested in

for example, she currently head over heels into ancient greek / archaic latin

she’s always been in love with the idea of love - her parents were like the romantic movie example of a perfect couple, and she yearns for that perfect relationship

she’s flirty as a result of that, desperate to try out relationships all the time and find love whenever and wherever possible

which results in her heartbroken nature -- she’s constantly searching for the perfect ideal of love, and has never found it, so constantly carries a sadness with her

lots of one night stands, friends with benefits, etc, as a result of that

she has a lot of trust issues due to her parents lying to her over her whole life, as well, so that element will pop up from time to time when she starts getting really close to people

others:

her father gave her a pair or dark red combat boots for her 15th birthday - the last gift she ever received from him - and you will hardly ever see her without them. they’re so worn in they feel like a second skin to her

weirdly good at hitting a target, but still learning how to properly use any weapons - they still freak her out a little, especially as she knows they were somehow involved in killing her father

she still sometimes has panic attacks in/around cars - although she now knows that’s not how he died, she spent two years thinking that was what killed her dad

she’s p thin and small so in a fight her strengths are stealth and agility

but she way prefers being the ‘behind the scenes’ person, like translating or coding

loves mythology and old stories

is basically obsessed with the constellations: she feels like they connect her to her dad’s memory, as well as the fact that they’re a constant factor in life, something she doesn’t have a lot of

stubborn as hell, once she sets her sights on something she’s entirely determined to get/do it, partially why she’s so good at languages - pure willpower.

uhh she’s really empathetic?? if a friend of hers is sad or angry or anything she tends to adopt those emotions, burdening herself with other people’s problems constantly

that’s also why she’s a vegetarian -- she can’t think about meat separate from animals.

connections page

#( ◦ ⟡ ✰ — ❛ calypso isms. ❜ )#here she is!!#intro #gallagherintro

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phoenix-downer · 5 years

Text

Of Which Reason Knows Nothing Chapter 1

I’m happy to post the first part of the project @chibiranmaruchan and I collaborated on! They drew the art, and I wrote the fic. Working with them was a lot of fun, and I’m really happy with what we’ve created. The first chapter I’m posting today, and the second I will post next Friday. I will also be posting this story to FFN and AO3 if those are your preferred reading spot(s).

Length: ~2100 words

Summary: Kairi may have lost someone important, but she isn’t alone, and she isn’t without hope. And her mysterious dreams just might have a clue as to Sora’s whereabouts…

Characters: Kairi, Sora’s Mother, Riku

Additional Info: Implied Kairi/Sora, Riku and Kairi friendship. Post-Kingdom Hearts III. Referenced Character Death. Guilt, Grief/Grieving, Angst, Comfort, Dreams, Friendship.

Enjoy!

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

Facing Sora’s mother was one of the hardest things Kairi had ever done.

Knocking on the door to Sora’s house had required all of her courage as it was. The cheerful welcome sign hanging on it, with its blue letters against a sunny yellow background, was downright mocking. What could she even say? She wasn’t welcome here. It was her fault Sora was gone; her fault he—

“Kairi?”

She couldn’t even look his mother in the eye. Her throat was dry and all of her carefully planned words fled her mind.

All that came out was, “I’m sorry.” Not that any apology could ever make up for what had happened, for the loss of someone so dear to them both.

“Sweetheart, it wasn’t your fault.”

Her eyes snapped to his mother’s. They were just like his, blue as the sky, only clouded with grief. Seeing them was like a punch in the stomach.

“It was,” Kairi said. “It’s my fault he’s dead.”

His mother shook her head. “No. Riku told me what happened. It’s because of you that he even lived.”

Kairi had to choke back a sob at that, and his mother just wrapped her arms around her. She didn’t resist. She didn’t have the energy to anymore.

“I miss him so much,” she said as the tears started to stream down her cheeks anyway.

“I do too.”

His mother invited her in after that, for tea and cookies. It actually helped a little, being near things that reminded her of him. Like a part of his soul still lingered on. It helped to tell stories about him, too. To listen to his mother’s stories.

“When he came home the night before you two and Riku set off,” she said, stirring the sugar and milk into her tea, “I knew something special had happened.”

Kairi perked up. “Oh?”

“He couldn’t stop smiling. Couldn’t focus on anything, especially not his dinner. Just had this big dreamy grin on his face with a faraway look in his eyes as he spilled his rice all over his lap. I figured it had something to do with you.”

Kairi smiled a little. “It did.” She thought of how he’d looked at her after they’d shared the paopu fruit and felt all warm inside. “He has such a beautiful smile.”

“That he does.”

They sipped their tea and nibbled on their cookies and kept sharing stories about him. But the shadows outside were growing long now, and Kairi needed to get home for dinner soon.

“Before you go,” his mother said, “would you like to see his room?”

Kairi’s heart pounded. “Is that… is that okay?”

“Of course. I thought… maybe, if it helps you, you can look at his things.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

One by one her feet took her up the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last, till the door to his bedroom was right in front of her.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe it would be better to—

“It’s okay. You can go in.”

His room hadn’t really changed all that much since she’d last been here. The floor was still cluttered with stuff, old toys and clothes and knick-knacks, as he hadn’t been home long between his return and his Mark of Mastery exam. But despite that, it was well dusted, and if she didn’t know any better, she would expect him to come bursting through the door any second now.

One of his hoodies was strewn across his bed, the red and black one, and she couldn’t help herself. She walked over and picked it up, then hesitated and looked back towards his mother for permission.

“Would it be okay… if I borrowed this, for now?”

“Of course. He’d want you to have it.”

Kairi nodded and pulled it over her head. It still smelled like him, and wearing it felt like he was giving her a hug.

His mother gave her an understanding look. “I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready. Take all the time you need.”

Kairi couldn’t bring herself to sit on his bed, but she did look around his room a little. Resting on his bedside table was a letter – her letter. She picked it up, mouthing the words as she read along. She remembered how her hand had flown across the paper, the words spilling out of her heart as her memories of him had returned.

“Starts with an ‘S,’” she murmured as the page in front of her blurred. His expression of pure joy as he ran through the water popped into her head. Would he still have smiled if he knew the fate that awaited him? That only a few months later, he’d be dead because of her?

She set the letter back down. In their final moments together, he’d smiled much like he’d smiled that day, and she had to wipe her eyes. Even the happy memories were bittersweet now. But something told her he wouldn’t want her to be sad, and so she did her best to remember the good things.

After returning home, dinner went by in a blur. Her appetite still hadn’t recovered, and she could only pick at the delicious food her mother had made, stir fry with pineapples and paopu fruit. The paopu fruit reminded her of Sora, of the cave drawing, of the special moment they’d shared as they’d fed each other the fruit. Not even meals were safe from her memories.

Going to bed was a struggle, too. When she wasn’t lying awake for hours on end, thinking about what had happened, she was having nightmares about it instead. A sharp pain in her back as Xehanort struck the killing blow, over and over again. Sora slipping right through her fingers and falling into the abyss. No matter what he did, no matter what she did, they could never reach each other. She always woke up, alone, with tears streaking her cheeks.

But with Sora’s hoodie on, things felt a little better. She felt a little closer to him. She sent Riku a quick text, then Xion and Naminé, before putting her Gummiphone back on the bedside table.

Maybe tonight she’d finally be able to sleep.

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Neon lights, flashing colors. An enormous city with skyscrapers pointing towards the moon, trying to reach the heavens but getting pulled back down to earth. Water on the ground in puddles as raindrops splashed into them, disturbing the surface of the water, reflecting the surroundings like a mirror.

Kairi had never seen this place before. It wasn’t The World That Never Was – the buildings didn’t match. This was somewhere new, somewhere different.

White paint on the ground. Lots of lines running across the street. Big billboards running dozens of different ads at the same time. Cars with bright lights, too bright in the dark. The sky a strange shade of purple with ominous black clouds. A big white tower with the numbers 104 in neon red letters.

She glanced at one of the puddles nearby. A face with blue eyes and spiky brown hair stared back.

Her eyes flew open. “Sora?”

But the dream was over already. What was that place? A big city… a building with the numbers 104… and Sora, somehow. In some place she’d never been before.

Could it be—

No. It was better not to hope. Better not to get her hopes up. And yet… all of her past dreams about him had just been repeating the same things over and over again. This was new.

She grabbed her Gummiphone and made as many notes as possible so she wouldn’t forget her dream, then rolled over and went back to sleep.

When she woke up the next morning, she opened her phone to see what it said:

104 Building

Puddles

Sora

Really? That was really all she had written? Curse her sleepy brain for not being thorough. Sighing, she pulled up her chat with Riku. Time to arrange a meeting with him.

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

As the mayor’s daughter, Kairi’s house was up on a hill a little ways away from everyone else’s houses. To reach the street where Riku’s house was, she hopped on her bike. The wind whistled through her ears as she descended the hill, reminding her of all the times she’d raced down this very hill with Sora and Riku. The roads on Destiny Islands were mostly dirt ones, and it was quite the bumpy ride.

Riku’s house looked much like the other houses on Destiny Islands did, but it was nonetheless charming, with its red brick roof and cute shuttered windows. As she approached and parked her bike (no need to worry about locks, no one really stole stuff from each other around here), she noticed smoke was coming out of the chimney. Maybe his mother was cooking something delicious for breakfast.

After a quick knock on the door, Riku invited her in. She removed her shoes and arranged them neatly, then stepped up into the house.

“Sorry for intruding!” she called in the customary way. No one actually thought you were intruding when you visited, but it was the height of bad manners not to say the little phrase.

“Welcome to our home,” his mother called back from the kitchen. After exchanging pleasantries, Kairi gave his mother a thank you gift for allowing her to visit, macarons in a nice box with a red bow from the bakery.

Riku led her into the living room after that, and they took a seat on the couch. He poured them both some green tea, then settled back and said, “So, you said there was something you wanted to talk about?”

“Riku, do you know what the numbers 104 mean?”

He frowned. “104?”

“Yes. I saw them in a dream.”

She explained as much of the dream as she could remember – the building with 104 and the puddle with Sora’s reflection in it. The other details were hazy, but she remembered thinking she hadn’t been there before, and she told Riku as much.

“So, a place you don’t know. These weird numbers. And Sora. You think it might be a clue as to where he is right now?”

She nodded. “That’s exactly what I was thinking, But I thought… maybe… I was just grasping at straws.”

“Because you want to see him again.”

She didn’t say anything. Riku was right on the munny, as always.

“Trust me, I know the feeling,” he said with a sigh. “I keep hoping and then wondering if it’s just wishful thinking. But this, this sounds like an actual lead.”

“What makes you think that?”

She had to hear it from someone else. She couldn’t trust her own heart to be honest with her anymore.

“Well, for one, you said it’s somewhere you’ve never been before. Your nightmares were always places you’ve already been, right?”

She nodded.

“And you saw that building with a very specific number. Why would you remember a detail like that?”

“Well… the four at the end stuck with me.”

While residents of Radiant Garden considered the number thirteen unlucky, four was the number of death on Destiny Islands. The hospital didn’t have a fourth floor. The numbering went from three on the third floor to five on what should’ve been the fourth floor. The school didn’t have a fourth floor either. So to see it on a building like that when she knew Sora was—

“You think you saw him in the afterlife, don’t you?” Riku said.

She nodded again. “It’s the only explanation I can think of. But how is that even possible? I thought that once you’re dead, that’s it. You cross over whatever barrier there is between the Realm of the Living and the Realm of the Dead. No more contact with the people you’ve left behind.”

He shrugged. “If our journeys have taught me anything, it’s that there’s a lot I don’t know about how reality works. But one thing I do know is that if anything can last beyond death, it’s the bond you and Sora share.”

Tears pricked her eyes. Why was she always on the verge of crying now?

Riku awkwardly patted her head. He was trying, he was really trying, and that made her cry even harder.

“Hey, we’ll figure something out,” he said. “You and Sora are both too stubborn to let each other go. And luckily for you both, I’m too stubborn to let either of you go.”

She laughed through her tears at that. Sora might be gone, but at least she still had Riku. At least she still had the rest of her friends. Together, they’d find a way to bring Sora back.

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A/N: Thanks for reading! Check back next week for Chapter 2!

Quick edit: You can see the art @chibiranmaruchan made here!

#kingdom hearts #kairi #sora's mother #riku #sokai #implied sokai #kairi and riku friendship #kh fanfiction #phoenix writes #phoenix-downer #chibiranmaruchan #collaboration #long post #kh3 spoilers

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lovemychoices · 5 years

Text

Playing with Fire - RoD AU [Colt x MC] - Ch.2 2/2

Book: Ride or Die

Once upon a time, an angel fell for a devil and they called it true love. -J.P.D

Kaela Matsuo didn’t think she would fall in love with someone during her senior year of highschool it was the last thing on her mind but then she met Colt while hanging out with Logan and everything changed. After taking down Jason and saying their heartbreaking goodbyes will Kaela and Colt ever find a way back to each other again? And if they do are they ready to face new obstacles together?

Characters except my OCs belong to Pixelberry, I am just borrowing them.

Word count : 5000+++

Chapter Summary: Kaela tries to forget Colt the only way she knows how.

A/N : Sorry it’s been months since this series has been updated and to be honest IDK when the next chapter will be up. Sorry for any grammatical error I didn’t have the time to do edits.

Warning/Triggers : Alcohol and Drug abuse. [Make sure you’re 18 years old and above if you read this]

catch up with the series here

Song Inspiration: Signals in Smoke - Coming up for air

How long can you wait

To breathe deep

How long can you stay

Underneath

It's hard to believe

But I know your heart still beats

Rise on up baby

Don't need eyes to see

Later that night, Kaela followed the direction of the address that Riya texted her which lead to a gated mansion somewhere in the hills but she couldn’t hear or see any signs of a party.

Confused she double checks the address on her GPS System. “This should be the right place?” She murmured to herself. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

A loud knock on her window causes her to jolt in her seat. She looks the drivers window and sees a man with strong build body wearing a crisp black suit. She cautiously rolls down her window a little.

“You lost or something miss?” The man asked eyeing her curiously.

“Um.. I’m here for a party at Mike’s place?” She answered showing the digital invite on her phone. The man takes a look at the screen taking his own phone from his pocket and started scanning the barcode on Kaela’s invite.

INVITE VALID

He gives her an approving nod and the gates in front of her open. She lets out a sigh of relief then nods back at him and quickly puts her gear into drive.

As she drives through the estate she sees a few dimly lit lamp posts and perfectly trimmed hedges. A little while after she could hear the faint sound of music playing in the background. In the driveway a bunch of expensive sports cars parked next to a two storey modern mansion.

Wow! This is where Mike lives? She checks herself in the rear-view mirror then heaves a sigh. You can do this it’s just one night out. Kaela felt like she needed something to calm her nerves so she reaches out to open her dashboard taking out an orange prescription bottle labeled Xanax on it which she had bought from one of her classmates a month ago. “Fuck! I’m all out.” She muttered throwing her head back on the headrest then glance towards mansion.

Maybe they’ll have something in there. Rich people always have the best prescription pills.

As she approaches the top step, a housekeeper opens the front door. Loud party noise and music blasted out as she enters, she felt like she was in some sort of fraternity party. People were dancing around consumed by the music around them, to the right a group of people cheering on a few guys doing a keg stand challenged.

I need to find the master bath, it must be somewhere upstairs.

“Kaela! Kaela over here!” Riya calls out with her hands waved in the air, quickly walking over to where Kaela was standing. “Omg, I’m so glad you decide to come!” She beamed excitedly giving Kaela a hug. “Come on, let's head outside by the pool, I have a few friends I want to introduce you to.”

Before Kaela can protest Riya takes her hand and guides her along the crowd to the middle of the living area and through the back door where a large swimming pool was located next to the house.

“Everyone, Kaela. Kaela, everyone.” Riya introduces her to a few people sitting by the pool.

“Hey Kaela!” Everyone greets in unison. “Hi…” Kaela smiles giving a sheepish wave. One of the girls stood up and hugged her excitedly taking Kaela by surprise. She pulls back a few moments later. “So nice to finally meet you, we always wondered when we were going to meet this mysterious Kaela, Riya’s always talking about. I’m Jane by the way.”

“Really Riya talks about me a lot?” She asked cocking and eyebrow at Riya.

Riya chuckles. “Only the good stuff I promise!” Kaela shakes her head and grabs a beer from the chiller next to her and twisting the cap open and has a sip before taking a seat next to Riya

“So does Mike have these parties all the time? Where is he anyway? I didn’t see him on the way in.”

Will snorts. “Probably inside entertaining the ladies, lucky bastard.”

The DJ starts to play a song Riya excitedly jump from her seat. “Oh I love this song!” She exclaims taking Kaela’s hand. “Common Kaela time to let loose and dance all your troubles away.”

Riya and the others danced moving their body as the music plays not missing a beat. Kaela watches stiff at first, she can’t remember the last time she danced like that. “Kaela don’t just stand there!” Riya said as she swayed from side to side.

“I’m gonna need more alcohol if I’m going to get through this.” She mutterd under her breath.

She quickly grabs a few glasses of neon shots from people nearby downing them in one go. Soon enough the alcohol starts to kick in, her body loosens, she starts swaying her hips to the sound of the music. For that brief moment she felt all her pain and sorrow being suppressed. She continues to dance letting the hours pass by, not stopping until suddenly the DJ plays a familiar song.

***

Flash back here…

Kaela takes in the electric colours, blacklight illuminated the ravers neon clothing. Drinks glow blue, pink and purple against the darkness. It was her first time going to a rave and it wasn’t like she had expected. She glanced down to see the colours on her clothes she borrowed from Mona how they brilliantly under the luminous lighting. Her eyes go wide opened and beamed. “Wow it’s like I’m radioactive!”

“You’re welcome.” Mona gave her a playful wink.

The group stood at the back as they watched other people dance around. “So what do we do?” Kaela asked.

“What do we do? We dance!” Mona answered with a smirk.

“Yeah. But like… how?”

Ximena chuckles. “However you want Hun. do what feels good, don’t overthink it.”

Mona sways sensually to the music, Toby jumps up and down. Salazar moves to an open spot at the dance floor and breaks into an energetically sequence of sliding and foot pumping. “And that’s called the Melbourne shuffle.” He beamed. The crew applauds and laugh. Even Logan shakes his head for smiles. He can feel his phone vibrate and excuses himself for a bit leaving Kaela and Colt alone while the others were off busy dancing.

Let's dance in style, let's dance for a while

Heaven can wait we're only watching the skies

Hoping for the best, but expecting the worst

Are you gonna drop the bomb or not?

Let us die young or let us live forever

We don't have the power, but we never say never

Sitting in a sandpit, life is a short trip

The music's for the sad man

“Oh! I love this song!” She beamed excitedly. “Come on, Colt!”

Colt hesitated looking at the rest of the crew doing their thing. “I.. don’t really dance.”

Kaela chuckles. “Me neither. Now come on!” She quickly took Colt’s hand before he could protest. Lacing their fingers together she leads him away out of sight from the rest of the crew.

Colt pulled her body close to his and tilted her chin face up to look at him, his lips curled up into a grin. “I would be lying if I said I haven’t been waiting to get you to myself today. Just follow my lead.” He turned her around so her back is facing his then lightly touches her waist, they both swayed effortlessly to the beat. In time with the pulsating beat he pushes her away then pulled her back closer this time with her face inches away from his. “Is Logan watching?”

“Why do you care if he does?” She quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Is it bad that a part of me wants him to?” He grinned.

“I’m not some possession for you two to fight over, Colt. I’m an actual person.”

“You’re not.. you’re more than that Kaela. At least to me you are.”

“What am I to you Colt?” Colt paused for a moment, they both stopped for a moment in the middle of the crowd of people dancing. He tucks a strand of Kaela’s loose hair to the back of her ear, she can see passion in his eyes as he looks at her. Colt leans in until his lips are just a breath away from hers, “You’re my driver forever, Kaela.”

She pushed her hands through Colt’s hair, bringing his mouth to hers.In that moment they both forget about everything and everyone in the room, even the loud music starts to fade into the background as they drown in each others kiss.

***

Present day..

Can you imagine when this race is won?

Turn our golden the faces into the sun

Praising our leaders, we're getting in tune

The music's played by the, the madman.

Forever young

I want to be forever young

Do you really want to live forever?

Forever, and ever.

That song, it was the song that she and Colt danced to at Hyrieus a year ago. Kaela could feel her heart beating fast and loudly as all the memories of that night with Colt replayed in her head. Suddenly the pain and sorrow comes crashing back at her, she felt like she was suffocating. “I need to get out of here.” Kaela pants and quickly pushed her way through the crowd walking up a flight of stairs leading to the first floor corridor.

She tries to open every door she comes across but each one she found was always locked until eventually one opens. She enters to what seems like the master bedroom and without a second thought saunters directly towards the bathroom.

Kaela stands in front of the mirror, hands pressed on the sink leaning with her head down. She closes her eyes and began reciting the same words repeatedly in her head. Breathe in one two three, breathe out three two one. ”Fuck this isn’t working.” She muttered under her breath, her eyes moves towards the Medicine cabinet in front of her.

Maybe there’s something in here that will.

She opens it and starts rummaging through. Lets see few dental flosses, vitamins, health supplements. Urgh where’s the good stuff?

She finally got her hands an orange prescription bottle, she took a look at the description labeled OXYCODONE one time daily or when needed. BINGO! Without even hesitating she popped the bottle open taking one pill and quickly putting it in her mouth swallowing it, later filling up a glass of water and drinking it all in one go. Kaela that the perception bottle from the sink counter top and shoves it in her purse, adjusting her messy hair before heading out.

She slowly closes the door behind her, failing to notice someone standing right outside she bumps right into them.

“Woah, careful!” Someone said catching her by the arm as she stammers back surprised, she looks up and sees a familiar face. “Mike, when did you get here?”

“Um.. I live here, it’s my party remember? What are you doing all the way up here?” He answers cocking an eyebrow.

“I um… needed to find the bathroom but got lost. Big house you got here.” She replied nervously. “But you know I succeeded in finding one so all good.”

“Good to know.” He chuckles then folds his arms scanning Kaela head to toe. “Listen, I’m heading up to the rooftop garden to get some air. You could join me if you want?”

“You have a rooftop garden?” Kaela thought for a moment before giving a half shrug.“Sure why not? I need to get some air anyway.”

Mike took her up another flight of stairs, he opened the door which lead to a beautiful rooftop garden.It had a miniature garden with pebble stones lining the pathway on one side and on the other side an outside bar with a hot tub overlooking the view of the neighborhood. Kaela’s eyes go wide open. “Wow! This is your rooftop? It’s amazing!”q

“You can thank my interior designer for that it was her vision. So have a seat anywhere you want.”

Kaela climbs on top edge of the roof and takes a seat at the edge, her legs dangling from above. She could see the pool right below her and the view of the landscape in front of her.

“This view is amazing. No offense but how’d you end up with a place like this? I thought you only owned a gym.”

Mike runs his hands through his hair. “Well not just a gym, I have few others all over California. Most of my clients big shot politics and A list celebrities. Plus my family is rich.”

Kaela snorts. “No kidding.”

“I’m serious..My last name is actually West.”

Kaela chokes a little when she hears the name. “As in West industries? They’re like multimillionaires?” Mike silently nods then looks away. “So... Why run a gym instead of being some big hot shot CEO?”

Mike shrugged at her question. “I didn’t really want to go into the family business. I’ve spent my whole life having my father tell me what I’m supposed to be and I’ve always felt so suffocated, you know? It wasn’t until I lost everything I ever cared about that I decided enough is enough.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice. I definitely know what it’s like to have a parent expect you to be someone you’re not.”

“Strike one of something we have in common.” He smirked. “I’m keeping score to see how compatible we are. You know for future reference.” He explains and gives a playful wink.

Kaela chuckles. “That’s a really interesting way of keeping score. Does it always work?”

“Most of the time.”

There was an awkward silence between them for a few seconds. Shit is he thinking of kissing me? Please don’t You’re going to ruin the moment. Mike starts to lean in, trying to close the gap between them, he was obviously going to kiss her. Kaela tilts her head down a look of regret written on her face. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this. You’re a really nice guy Mike, but I just got out of a serious relationship and I’m just not ready.”

Mike leans back, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I didn’t know. How long have the two of you been broken up?”

“We didn’t Break up. He—. He—.” She fumbled trying to form the words. Take deep breaths and exhale slowly Kaela. ”He was involved in an accident about 3 months, he didn’t make it.”

“I’m sorry to hear about that, believe me I know what it’s like losing someone you love. To have them suddenly ripped from you.” He seethes, Kaela noticed his jaw clenched and his hands ball into a fist.

“Who was she?” She asked, Mike turns to look at her, his expression a mixture between sad and confused. “When you said you lost everything you cared about earlier. I’m assuming it has to do with someone you cared about.”

“She was.. Someone I met in college sophomore year. She was the most kind and beautiful person I have ever met. We started dating a few months after knowing each other then it went from that to being in a relationship for the next 5 years.” Mike paused for a moment he fidget with a silver ring on his finger. Kaela could barely make out the words engraved on the ring but it has the initials M&K.

“You know the night of the accident we were supposed to spend the weekend at one of my family's estates in the mountains. I had this whole plan to propose to her.” He paused again with regret written on his face. “But I got held back at work, so I told her I’d have someone pick her up she could head up there first and I would catch up later. A few hours later I got a call from the police…..”

As Mike told Kaela about the night his girlfriend got into a car accident, voices of that night she got the call from Ximena regarding Colt’s accident starts replaying in her head.

“Kaela honey, I wish I was calling you under different circumstances and I’m sorry to be the one telling you this but—.”

“But what X? You need to tell me.”

“It’s about Colt. He’s.. He’s been in an accident and he didn’t make it.”

“Kaela. Hey Kaela you alright?”

She is slowly pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of Mike’s voice.

“Are you alright?”

“I uh… yeah. I’m fine.” She mentions, tucking strand of loose hair to the back of her ear.

“Anyway the trick is to focus on something that will make you forget. For me it was martial arts, I got to channel all my anger into someplace else. Who knows, it might be for you too. Whenever you ready just give me a call.”

He handed her his business card and she takes it, giving him a weak smile.

“We should probably head back to the party. Riya might be worried and looking for you.”

Mike slowly got up and steps away from the edge, he stretched out his hand to Kaela.

“You coming?”

“Uh… Yeah. Hey you go ahead I’ll be right behind you.”

When Mike wasn’t looking she quickly popped another piece of pill into her mouth, closing her eyes and taking deeps breaths she could feel the pill start to kick in.

Maybe this is just what I need.

*****

In the weeks to come Kaela’s night were filled with parties endless drinking and getting high, anything to make her forget. She was sick of feeling miserable, she was sick of crying herself to sleep at night. This felt like the easiest way out to her. She did a pretty good job at hiding it from her friends and family though. Since she only hung out with Riya a few times a month and visit her dad once a month, nobody took notice in her sudden change of lifestyle choices. Everyone just assumed she had finally accepted what happened to Colt and moved on.

“No.. We are not watching that Ri.”

“Please K?” Riya pouts her lips.

“Omg… We are not going to watch TO ALL THE BOYS I’VE LOVED BEFORE for the 5th time.”

“But.. But.. Peter Kavinsky.” She pouted again throwing her puppy dog eyes at Kaela.

Kaela rolled her eyes at Riya. “Okay find, but I’m picking the next one.”

“Deal!” Riya grinned and hit the play button on the remote.

“I need to use the bathroom for a bit, the pizza delivery guy will be here soon. Take care of it will you?”

A few seconds later there is a buzz on the door, Riya opens and is greeted by the delivery guy. “That will be twenty four fifty.” He says hold the pizza box out.

Riya takes it and shuffles through her purse for cash but is a little short. “Um.. I’m a little short on cash. Could you hand on a sec?” She hurries to the island and grabs Kaela’s purse to get some cash but she ends up finding more. Oxycodone? She quickly stuffs the bottle in her jeans and pays the pizza guy. “Here you go, keep the change.”

A few minutes later Kaela came out of the bathroom and saunters over to the living area, Riya was seated on the couch glaring at her. “Is something wrong?”

“Mind telling me what’s this?” Riya asked holding up an orange pill bottle. “What do you even need Oxycodone for?”

“Omg.. Did you just go through my stuff without my permission?!” She retorted, her hands balling into a fist. “You have no right to do that Riya.”

“I was short on cash and looked through you purse to borrow some. Maybe it’s a good thing I did or who knows how long your drug addiction was going to continue.” She gives Kaela a pointed look. “Is that why you’ve been so chill the past few months? Because you’ve been using? What else have you been using? Heroin? Cocaine?”

“I’m not a drug addict if that’s what you’re implying, I only use them when I go to parties or when I’m feeling stressed out.” She folds her arms her with her eyes downcast. “And for the record I don’t do heroin or cocaine. I’m mostly on prescription pill and occasionally Molly.”

“Kaela how could you be so stupid?! Grieving is one thing but this?!”

“Don’t talk to me like you know what it’s like to feel grief. I tried to grieve him, Riya. Trust me I've got grieving down to a science at this point. But every time I let it sink in that I'm never gonna see you again, I feel like I'm gonna die.” She whimpered. “I— I want to die!

“You can’t say things like that Kaela.”

“And why not? It’s the truth! I can’t do this anymore.. I’m sorry.. I need to go somewhere.” She said taking her purse from the counter and storms out of the apartment, Riya chasing her shortly after into the parking lot “Kaela where are you going, you can’t do this you need help. Just talk to me please!” She pleaded reaching to take her hand but Kaela

“Omg! Riya can you like not!” She belts swatting Riya’s hand away as she tries to take her. “Just leave me alone!” She quickly gets into her car and drives away while Riya watches her from behind.

*****

Kaela drives aimlessly through the streets of LA, she didn’t know where she was going, she just needed to get away from Riya. She needed to get away from everything, to clear her head and a long drive usually does the trick.

Soon she found herself off the highway and on to the freeway which soon lead to a winding road. She could feel her heart pounding as she picks up speed, tears starting to fog her eyes. I can’t do this anymore.. I just can’t. Her phone starts ringing and she looks down at the passenger seat where it was lying, it was Riya calling. She hits the reject button and turns back to the road when she did suddenly out of no where a stray dog was standing in the middle of the winding road and only a few meters from her car, she turned the steering wheel to avoid hitting the pup but at the speed she was going in it made her quickly loose control. Her car swivels on the winding road and rammed onto a divider before flipping over.

Kaela remained strapped to her seat hanging upside down.. The smell of something burning nearby, blood was dripping from her forehead to the ground and her vision was starting to get blurry, she could barely make out what looks like a figure, maybe a passerby who saw the accident dashing over to where she was. “Help me...” She murmurs in a weak voice but before the person manages to get her out she passes out and everything turns to black.

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

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