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neptuneiris · 7 months

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True Intentions | (One-shot)

Be the only one or be an 'sometimes'?

pairing: modern!aemond (best-friend brother) × fem!reader

summary: even knowing his reputation, you've always had a little secret crush on the most popular boy in school, Aemond Targaryen, until it becomes impossible to hide it when your brother Cregan makes friends with him and you begin to see him more frequently.

word count: 9.0k

I'm very excited about this!

I hope you really like it, I loved writing this even though it took me a while, but here it is finally:) comments and reblogs are appreciated beautiful people, thank you so much for reading!❤

warning's: language, slight angst, mention of alys, sexual content, spanking.

You always hated it when your brother Cregan brought his friends over to your house when your parents were away, whether it was to watch soccer games, play video games or have some fun at the pool.

You especially were never the type of sister to bring friends over, rather you were the type of sister who preferred to go to friends' houses, as you never mentioned your house as an option.

It just wasn't comfortable for you.

And apparently it wasn't enough for your brother and his friends to see each other almost daily at school that they also had to go to your house.

But you couldn't really do anything, he's the older brother and it wouldn't make any difference to accuse him to your parents since logically there's nothing wrong with him inviting his friends over, besides they work almost all the time and probably wouldn't make a big deal out of it.

So you can only lock yourself in your room with food as a provision, put on your AirPods and wait for them to leave.

And that's what you do, all the while Cregan and his friends prowl around your house. But you reach your breaking point when again Cregan plans a pool party.

"Are you serious?" you inquire, clearly annoyed, "I swear to God, Cregan, this is not going to happen again."

"Oh come on," he gives you a tired look, tossing balloons and animal inflatables into the pool, "Live a little, sis."

"No! You always do this, the same old shit!"

You reproach him as you follow him back into the house, where at the kitchen island is a stack of beers that he begins to store in the fridge completely disinterested to your clear dissatisfaction with it all, as he just doesn't care.

"Last time everyone was coming into the house like it was nothing to leave the whole floor wet, they also left a mess all over the kitchen, pool and garden," you remind him annoyed, "Not to mention we had complaints from the neighbors for all the fuss you made."

"Fucking Hell, will you relax? I'll take care of everything," he says looking at you wearily, only increasing your anger more, "The guys won't be long and I needed everything to be ready."

"That's what you always say but I'm the one who ends up cleaning everything up in and I'm the one who deals with the neighbors because of you fucking fault!"

"Fine!" he exclaims in exasperation, looking at you, "You have my word, I'll take care of everything this time, yeah?"

He looks at you seriously to get back to dealing with the beers, but you don't believe half a word he says.

"Now do you want to help me turn on the pool lights? Also lock the upstairs doors, just in case."

You slowly shake your head in his direction with your arms crossed with your completely serious and annoyed look in his direction.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?"

You don't wait for him to say anything back nor do you say anything else, you just annoyingly turn around and walk upstairs to your room, preparing to be another long night confined to your four walls.

And this is what happens every time your parents aren't home, having to put up with the liberties Cregan takes to do whatever he pleases around the house.

It's not until one day when you get home from your music lessons at almost seven o'clock that when you open your front door, you hear a lot of voices and laughter.

During the week he usually doesn't invite anyone over, except for a few times he invites the Velaryon brothers, Jace and Luke, over to play video games after school.

The weekend is when it really bothers you that he throws big parties without your parents knowing.

You close the door hard enough to announce your arrival and look into the living room as you head for the stairs, when then, you see them.

And they see you too.

With handsome faces and infectious smiles, besides their unusually silver hair and blue eyes that steal the breath of every girl in the school, Aegon and Aemond Targaryen, the kings of the whole school and also the most players, are in your living room having a few beers and smoking with Cregan.

And Cregan is the first to react.

"Guys, the lady of the house is here," he says, "So let's take this to the pool, shall we? Before she starts screaming."

You watch him with a completely serious look on your face as you see Aegon let out a small chuckle to himself. And without a word, you avert your gaze and continue on your way to the stairs, feigning disinterest.

And just like all the other girls at your school, you can't help but feel equally captivated and attracted to him, Aemond.

However, you don't leave without one last look at him, Aemond Targaryen.

From your single couch and with a cigarette between his long fingers, gives you back an intense and burning look that makes you feel a strange sensation all over your body.

But it's not something you really go around telling everyone, let alone something you want your brother to know now that he's apparently become friends with him.

However, you should have expected him to notice.

And it happens when Cregan again throws a pool party with all his friends and him too, where you don't confront him much about it like previous times and that's what gets his attention.

"Which of the two is the one you like?"

He asks you suddenly with a curious expression and a hint of suspicion in his voice, making you watch him with confusion on your face.

"What are you talking about?"

Your whole body tenses up completely upon hearing your brother's words and you inevitably start to feel terribly nervous, as well as your heart starts to beat too fast, especially because of his suspicious look on you.

"The Targaryens."

He points at you with his gaze, crossing his arms and looking at you again attentively and suspiciously.

"You haven't caused a scene since the two of them have been coming around often and you certainly don't look upset when it used to be a problem with anyone coming around, so you definitely must like one of the two of them, so tell me, which one?"

But you feign innocence and confusion, only to stare at him with your most incredulous face of all and try to evade him.

"You're talking nonsense."

"Oh, am I?"

"Cregan," you observe him seriously, "Have you ever seen me talk to either of the two of them here or at school?"

"Hmm," he says for a moment, thoughtfully.

Still he doesn't look entirely convinced and analyzes you with a completely intent and penetrating gaze, making you feel more nervous but you control him well.

"Still I find it odd that you don't complain about them when they come."

"Then maybe you should think about the fact that I just got tired of telling you the same old thing over and over again," you persuade the subject, "No matter how many times I complain, you'll still do what you want," you tell him seriously, "Besides, you assume that as if I didn't go to the same school as you and didn't know the Targaryens."

"That's exactly why I'm telling you," he says instantly, just as serious, "Do you think I'd like to see you start dating one of them?"

"And why do you care?"

"Why do I care?" he repeats incredulously, "I'm your brother, of course I care."

"As if I care about the girls you date," you tell him just as incredulously.

"Well, at least I have a good reason here," he insists, "I know them, both," he clarifies, "And I don't want you to get hurt, that's why I'm telling you."

"Stop being ridiculous," you tell him with your clearly annoyed tone, starting to head to your room, "And even if I will start dating one of them, it's none of your business."

You sentence to finally leave him behind, leaving a tension in the kitchen, while inside, you finally stop feeling tense and nervous, but Cregan continues with his suspicion.

He almost had you, almost.

And after that conversation, automatically the Targaryens come to your house more often, even more than usual.

Even after school, Cregan invites them over, the two of them and also the Velaryon brothers, where they all together invade your house and you start to witness the personality of him that he is mostly known for.

And it happens one day you're making yourself food and you hear them all talking from the living room.

"Oh, this fucker is texting Savannah," you hear Aegon's excited and amused voice.

"What!? Savannah Williams!?"

"Yeah, since yesterday. I saw her name on his phone when she texted him."

"So what do you say, dude?"

"Not much, actually," you hear his voice.

"But haven't you gone out with her before?"

"Yeah, but you know, it was casual," he explains, "Just now she told me her parents aren't home."

"Oh dude, if I were you, I wouldn't waste the opportunity," your brother says excitedly.

"But what happened to that girl at the party last week? What was her name? Emily, I think."

"Ah Emily… yeah, we had a thing but it was casual too. We only met once after that party."

"She was so hot, but Savannah is hot too."

"Yeah, I know," you hear his nonchalant voice.

"So will you go see her?"

"Yeah, I think so."

You hear them continue to talk, but you tune out and sneak off to your room unnoticed.

It's not the first time you've witnessed these conversations, though. It also happens when they are in the pool and you find yourself back in the kitchen preparing food.

But you can't concentrate because through the glass of the huge windows you see Aemond's bare chest marked. This is a distraction but you try to ignore it as much as you can, but to no avail.

When then the movement and sound of him emerging from the water catches your attention and that of Cregan and Aegon.

"Where are you going?"

"To Cerelle's," he announces, with his phone in hand and his towel over his shoulder.

"Yo! Cerelle Lannister!?" exclaims Cregan in surprise.

"She's so sexy," Aegon says, grining.

"She told me she's home alone and wants me to come over," he explains, as you watch him quickly move his fingers across his phone screen.

"Good luck, dude!"

Even though you know his reputation and how you are aware of his numerous 'adventures' with other girls, you can't help but feel a knot in your stomach and wonder if he might ever be interested in you.

You feel another pang of disappointment when you hear all this and also when you see how he smiles and starts to make his way over here without taking his eyes off his screen.

This immediately makes you react to quickly go to your room so you don't cross paths with him.

Not in that way, since you really don't want to be another girl on his huge list, but be something more genuine and real to him.

But that's totally ridiculous and impossible.

You tell yourself in disbelief, seeing the reality, as it's clear he's not looking for something serious and you don't want to be a 'one night stand' for him if you'll be ignored, forgotten and to some extent humiliated afterwards.

One day, taking advantage of the fact that Cregan is not at home on the weekend and neither are any of his friends, much less your parents, although that is actually no surprise, you decide to make this day for yourself, relax and enjoy your own company.

You decide to stop paying attention to your phone and with your towel in your arms, you leave your room and go down to the pool.

But just as you finish walking down the stairs and are about to turn down the hallway, the doorbell rings.

You stop with a tired expression as that alone has slightly disturbed the zen zone you now find yourself in, but having no choice, you turn around and head to open the door, thinking it must be Mrs. Arryn to ask you for sugar, as usual.

But when you open the door, it is not Mrs. Arryn, but rather you come face to face with Aemond, taking you by surprise and takes your breath away for a moment.

If he is surprised to see you, he doesn't show it, just raises his eyebrows slightly and you notice how he shamelessly runs his eye up and down you, making you embarrassed and nervous as you remembers your outfit, which is a cute black two-piece bikini.

And you quickly try to cover up a bit with the towel in your hands, although in reality this shouldn't embarrass you, since you're at home and you didn't expect to see him, besides this bikini doesn't leave much to the imagination.

Or so you think.

"Hey."

He says to you dispassionately in greeting mode, with a look that you can't really describe but that makes you feel more nervous and you feel your heart beating too hard.

"Hi," you try not to stutter, "I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else."

Aemond watches you with a little mischievous smile barely visible and a spark of amusement in his eye.

"No worries," he tells you in his soft tone.

"Hum…" you place your confused face, "My brother is not here," you let him know, still finding it strange that he doesn't know that.

"Oh," he is silent for a moment, watching you intently, "He's not?"

You shake your head.

"He said he was going to Alysanne's, but he left hours ago," you explain and he hums in understanding, "Did you tell him you were coming today?"

"No, although I should have, I was just passing through and decided to come," he explains to you as well, shoving his hands into the pockets of his silk jacket, "I left my wallet here last night," he tells you later, getting your attention more, "That's why."

"Oh," is all you say, not knowing what else to say for a few seconds, "Well, I'm not sure what time Cregan will be back. But if you want to go up and get it, I'll be at the pool."

You allow him passage, as it's not as if he's a complete stranger and it's not as if he doesn't hang around here often either, it's as if he and Aegon live here too, being the brothers Cregan wished he had.

"Okay, thanks," he tells you as you step aside and make room for him to come in.

"Just close the door when you leave," you tell him, still feeling your heart beat too fast against your chest.

Aemond turns his gaze back to you, nodding in your direction.

"All right."

You give him a small smile and without saying anything else to him, you walk past him, hurrying to get out of his sight and urgently needing, now more than anything else, to get your whole body into the warm water of the pool that will make you stop feeling so tense.

And this is why you don't feel Aemond's piercing, burning gaze on you as you pull away, admiring your bare skin and having a perfect idea of your naked body to the imagination.

And with that alone, he feels himself getting hard at the sight of your smooth, long legs, as well as getting a good look at that ass of yours jiggling as you pull away.

He wets his lips and with a little grin, finally makes his way to Cregan's room, thinking about little things since you're here alone…. now with him.

Meanwhile you, wanting to forget that Aemond Targaryen is in your house right now, submerge yourself completely in the water, where you immediately feel a sensation of freshness and relief.

The water caresses you and envelops your body completely, while you let out a small sigh of pleasure and begin to get used to the new temperature, letting the revitalizing sensation envelop you completely.

Then you emerge with a slight jump, remove your wet hair stuck to your face and begin to swim elegantly, where your arms and legs move at a steady pace and the water takes you in all directions.

You submerge again for a moment and watch the horizon, as your house is on a hill and you can see the lights of neighborhoods below, being a beautiful sight when the sun sets and also when the sun goes down.

However, again your zen zone is disturbed when you hear the movement of the kitchen glass doors sliding, so you turn around in confusion and again feel all your nervousness wash over you.

Aemond makes his way over here, but what strikes you more than anything else is how he has clothes in his hand and also one of the many clean towels Cregan has in his bathroom.

You look at him confused face and he looks back at you with his intent gaze.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

The words get stuck in your throat, watching him still confused, feeling really very nervous and not understanding what he is doing here since he was supposed to go get his wallet and then leave, while he stands at the edge of the pool, watching you.

"Hum…" you say not really knowing what to say, "Are you going to wait for Cregan?"

He averts his gaze from yours, then drops the towel and clothes on a chair with dispassionate movements, to return his gaze to you.

"Yeah, I can do that too."

"And what are you actually here to do?"

You watch him warily and with a slight distrust, but not in a bad way, it's simply nerves.

He looks at you slightly amused.

"To keep you company, of course. Unless you don't want me to," he hastens to clarify.

And here your dilemma begins.

Being alone here with Aemond, in your house, in your pool, was a scenario you longed for and feared at the same time. You longed for because that's how your mind works when you're attracted to him, but feared since anything could happen.

And knowing his reputation, maybe when the moment happens, if the moment happens at all, you don't know if what will come next will be bad or good.

Also, you don't know if Cregan will arrive at any time or even later, so if he arrives in a couple more minutes and sees you alone here with Aemond, you don't even want to imagine the scandal he will make.

You don't know if Aemond has considered that possibility too but if he has, he doesn't seem to mind.

"So?" he looks at you expectantly.

But you again, can't utter words.

You let out a long breath and swallow hard before responding, trying to hide your excitement and nervousness.

You don't want to look bitter by telling him no, that it will be best for him to leave, but you also can't find another way to politely decline.

And on the other hand… there is that inevitable emotion in your being that begs you to invite him into the pool with you.

"Hum… yeah, sure, if you want," you say acting nonchalant, averting your gaze from him and distracting yourself with the water.

Aemond can't help but put on his smirk again and right in front of you, wanting to give you a show, he takes off his shirt, to which you watch him helplessly out of the corner of your eye and make sure he doesn't catch you admiring the view.

He's wearing that usual silver chain around his neck that makes it stand out against his skin, making him look only even sexier when he doesn't have a shirt on and God, you don't know if you can survive this, thinking it's a bad idea.

Then you watch as he pulls on a pair of Cregan shorts, secures his hair in a low bun and finally steps into the water.

In a nonchalant way you make yourself more towards the shore, unobviously avoiding getting too close to him as he swims towards the center of the pool, making it more impossible for you not to watch him as it's getting dark and the last orange rays of the sun beautifully illuminate his skin that glows slightly from the water and his face.

And then feel his intense gaze on you, while you try to distract yourself with your eyes, trying to focus only on you.

But it is genuinely impossible.

However, he doesn't make any effort to talk and neither do you, which you are grateful for, to continue to feel the calmness and relaxation throughout your body, although it's a little hard for you being here alone with him.

And it's a bit awkward since neither of you are talking, but is there anything to talk about?

He's one of your brother's best friends and you're just the sister, the two of you don't really know each other, so it makes sense. But still you feel the slight tension between the two of you and you don't even know why.

You wonder if he feels the same way too when suddenly his low, amused voice almost makes you startle in your place.

"I've always wondered why you're so quiet when Aegon and I come over."

You look at him with a slightly surprised expression, not expecting that, feeling again how your heart is beating too fast from nerves, for what are you supposed to tell him?

You should tell him that you have a crush on him and that your brother warned you about him?

"I know it's your house and I come with your brother but… you look like you hate me or something."

Oh God.

You think, only making you feel more nervous, especially since it's really impossible not to see a part of his torso and pectorals that looks almost glowing from the water and sunlight, not expecting to hear those words either.

And you force yourself not to turn your back on him anymore to watch him while they talk, adopting a relaxed and confident attitude, just like him, when actually inside you are shaking with nerves.

"You just said yourself, you come with my brother, not me," you say softly.

And while he watches you and listens attentively, he also struggles just like you not to see too much of your breasts confined in that black bikini of yours that makes you look too sexy, especially the way the wet fabric looks and your skin on your chest and collarbone too.

"And I don't hate you," you clarify, slightly amused and absurd, "We just don't talk, that's all."

"Because you haven't given me the chance."

You look at him expectantly.

"I don't remember a single time you ever tried to talk to me."

"That's exactly why," he tells you softly, "Because you run away before I can try."

Now it is you who watches him completely attentively, while you feel your heart beating like crazy and you look away from him for a moment, not knowing what to say or do since he is right, feeling really very nervous, especially when he starts to swim slowly towards you, with a determined look.

And you for insisting, you start to back away, watching his slow and calculated movements with some trepidation, having an idea of what he intends to do and you know it's not a good idea at all.

"See? You're already running away," he points out to you with his amused and satisfied look.

And you don't miss his determined look, how his head is slightly tilted as he continues to slowly advance towards you, with the corners of his lips twisted upwards in a small smile and his blue eye glowing, while his prosthetic eye remains the same as ever.

And you still don't want to agree with him.

"That's not true, I'm not doing anything," you defend yourself in a weak and pathetic attempt.

"Oh no?" he raises his eyebrows expectantly at you.

And you start to lose it all when he's already in front of you, cornering you.

"Aemond," you call him in a sigh in warning mode, fully alert, leaving his name in the air as you become very nervous of his intense, dark gaze on you.

"What's wrong? Are you afraid of me?"

You watch him with a slight expression of surprise and even more nervousness, as you press your lips together and try to say the right words.

"No," you reply softly, "But I know you're no good either," you confess.

And he frowns, watching you interestedly.

"What do you mean?" you are silent for a moment, as you give him a sad look, serious and obvious at the same time.

"We both know what," you tell him softly, without much detail.

And at this, Aemond can't help but feel annoyed, immediately noticing how you clench your jaw and look away from yours for a moment, serious and thoughtful.

You know he shouldn't have to be upset with you for implying a truth you both know, especially him, but still you can't help but hold your breath, hoping that maybe you haven't gone too far.

All the while thinking that maybe you've ruined the first chance you've had to talk to him by telling him that he's no good by reputation, since that's not your concern, but at least you make it clear that that's not what you're looking for now.

"And you don't even want to try?" he asks you quietly, turning his gaze back to you, attentive and completely willing.

You stare at him, completely speechless, as you feel your whole body tense and your eyes are slightly wide open, your lips parted, not having the slightest idea what to say at the same time as a million questions invade your mind.

And just at that moment, Cregan's words come back to your mind.

"I know them, both. And I don't want you to get hurt, that's why I'm telling you."

So you know.

Aemond is not like you and the only thing he wants is to fill his list, no matter with whom, not even if it's the sister of one of his best friends, who are supposed to be 'forbidden', somehow.

And that's why you decide to answer him truthfully, no longer caring if you hurt his feelings, even though you doubt it very much.

Not wanting this to go any further, since you knew all along that letting him stay was a bad idea, you move as fast as your body in the water will let you, walking away, wanting to keep your distance again.

"And be just another girl on your list that you never speak to again and suddenly pretend she doesn't exist anymore? No thanks."

But just as you pass by him, he's faster and you feel his big hand grab your arm and twist you in a demanding motion back towards him, slamming his chest against yours, locking you in his arms, making you gasp in surprise.

His face is above yours, completely close, causing you nerves and you try to free yourself from him, but he doesn't let you, even having that determined, attentive and dark look.

"Do you ever stop running away?" he asks you in a low, husky tone.

"What do you think you're doing?" you hiss nervously.

"You're not even letting me explain."

"There's nothing to explain."

"Oh no?" he asks, "Did I say I only wanted you for one night?"

"That's what you do, Aemond, with every girl," you say absurdly, "Am I suddenly going to be the exception? How am I supposed to believe that?"

However, any further protest gets stuck in your throat as Aemond grabs one hand from your cheek and the other places it on your bare waist, pulling you closer against him in a possessive grip.

And you know you're losing the battle when he brings his face closer to yours, where your noses brush lightly and your breathing becomes more rapid, having no idea what's going on.

But Aemond does.

And as he strokes your soft, wet cheek with his thumb, watching you intently and with understanding, his next words make you reconsider the situation completely.

"You won't be just another girl on the list," he murmurs softly to you, "I won't hurt you. I promise."

You shudder completely at his words, but also at his touch and closeness, being impossible not to look between his violet eye or his full lips, which Aemond notices, also peering between your eyes and lips hungrily.

And you don't even think or discuss it anymore when he leans his face towards you and kisses you with need, without even giving you time to react.

You moan into his mouth in surprise and he pulls you roughly to him, lowering his hands to your body where he makes you wrap your legs around his torso, then makes room between your lips with his tongue, making you gasp.

You immediately bring your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss further, a passionate kiss, where you barely give each other time to breathe properly before desperately bringing your lips together again.

A slight tingle of desire is felt between your legs as you move your body and legs to hold his torso tighter, where you perfectly feel the hardness of his cock under your ass.

You moan as you feel one of his hands grip your thigh and the other caress the skin of one of your ass cheeks, making you gasp against his mouth, closing your eyes in delight as he pulls his lips away from yours and begins to leave soft kisses on your neck.

"I fucking knew it," he murmurs in delight too in his husky voice, running his tongue over your sensitive skin, "I knew you wanted me too."

You squint completely as the hand on your ass reaches lower and nonchalantly rubs his palm over your covered, moist center.

"Aemond," you moan.

"I know, baby, I know," he coos, smiling in the middle of your lips as he kisses you again.

But it's there in that moment with his hand caressing you right at your nerve center that your brain for an instant seems to react, realizing what's really going on and you stop kissing him abruptly, watching him in surprise and slight fear as he watches you slightly confused.

"W-we can't," you say in a trembling voice, "We can't do this, t-this is wrong. Cregan—

"We can't do it or we can't do it here?" he inquires expectantly.

You let out a sigh.

"Both," you say with a certain embarrassed tone, "But I'm more worried about Cregan. If he sees us, he'll go crazy."

"Come on, Y/N, you're not a little girl anymore."

"I know but he warned me about you and your brother," you tell him hopelessly, "And you're one of his best friends."

Aemond is silent for a moment, watching you and nothing else, where he is aware and so are you of the hardness in his shorts, while in his thoughts he bets that you too must be spilling your juices between your legs.

Honestly he understands your concern, but he also understands that Cregan is really no one to tell you who you can and can't date, as the decision is totally up to you.

He doesn't want to have problems with him either as he also considers him one of his best friends but you... you simply drove him crazy with seeing you in this black bikini and now he is even more so for you, wanting, needing more of you, no matter the consequences.

"Then we have to be careful and not to say anything to him," he tells you softly, in solution, "Only if you want to," he clarifies, "But if you want to stop now, just tell me and I will, before we take this any further."

But you don't really have to make a decision when you are already here, in his arms, feeling how much he wants you and you also recognizing how much you want to keep touching and kissing him, no matter what.

But he still gives you that option, to make you see that he really doesn't want to hurt you and that he respects your decisions, since you are the one in control of all this and you are the one who puts the stop, at any time.

And when Aemond sees how you are watching him intently, with indecision in your gaze, holding back your true desires, thinking fast, he cocks his head to one side and watches you curiously.

"Or do you really want me as much as I want you, princess?"

Something snaps inside you and not just from hearing that nickname for you, but from having him so fucking close and his lips being a complete invitation to you and in fact all of him.

Soon enough, he is sitting on the edge of the pool and you find yourself sitting on top of him, your arms around his neck as you press yourself against the hardness of his shorts.

So you think no more and again crash your lips against his, resuming what you were doing before, to which Aemond responds with the same rudeness and fervor.

And then without stopping kissing you, he carries you to the edge of the pool along with him.

You move your hips in circles on top of him, rubbing your needy center against his hard cock, while he caresses your thighs, your ass and all the skin he blindly finds without stopping kissing you, feeling his breathing just as ragged as yours.

Then he brings his hands up and starts sliding the strings of your bikini over your shoulders, sending fiery electricity throughout your body.

"What was it you said? That we couldn't do this here?" he murmurs hoarsely against your skin, leaving wet kisses on your collarbone and neck.

You moan, as your bikini top piece is loosened completely by Aemond's fingers and you involuntarily wiggle your hips more intensely.

"You just can't resist, can you?" he asks you amused amidst all the sensuality.

"Shut up," you whine pathetically into his lips.

This time he kisses you again, softly and tenderly, deep, as he with his hand pulls away the piece of your bikini top that covers your breasts, freeing them, causing him to groan at the sight in front of him.

"Fuck," he murmurs, "Such a pretty tits, princess."

He says to you with his eye fully dilated and watching you hungrily, then you moan as he brings his mouth to your hard, wet nipple and begins to caress it with his tongue and lips, sucking on it, while he kneads the other one with his hand.

"Oh yes," you moan, pulling your breasts closer to his face.

You continue to move your hips on top of him, desperate and needy to feel the friction his cock gives you against your swollen clit.

When you least expect it, you begin to approach your limit, as your whole body tenses and his caressing hands only add to the pleasure.

"Mhm," he moans against your hard nipple, then gives the same attention to the other, still kneading them as he pleases.

"Fuck, Aemond, please don't stop," you say under your breath.

But that's exactly what he does, he releases your nipple with a wet sound and captures your lips in a sensual kiss, making you moan and groan at the same time from the attention on your breasts.

You arch your neck and moan, clinging to him completely, needing more of him, driving you completely insane.

And you sigh as he again distributes kisses all over your neck and his teeth grind against your sensitive skin.

You feel the moist heat of his mouth and hands all over your body, as if he wants to mark you with each firm, possessive touch.

"Remember we have to be careful, baby," he suddenly murmurs hoarsely in your ear, feeling his warm breath, "And we don't want your brother to see his innocent little sister getting the fuck of her life if he comes back, do we?"

Despite all the desire you're feeling and you're dripping completely for him, his words reach your brain and scare you a little, so you force yourself to be patient and you both go up to your room.

And soon enough you find yourself lying on your bed, with Aemond on top of you, spreading your legs for him, watching with his dilated eye and gently biting his bottom lip your wet pussy ready for him.

"Seven Hells," he growls, running his fingers all over your entrance, "Look at you, you're dripping, princess."

His cock pulses in pain for release, watching you in complete delight as you moan with every movement of his fingers that collects your juices, spreading them all over your pussy, making you wiggle your hips against his hand.

"Aemond, please," you cry, needing to feel it inside you, now.

"What is it, baby? Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want me to fuck this pretty pussy hard?"

He teases you, running his fingertips over your hole, making you moan, sigh and groan.

"Please, just fuck me, fuck me with your cock," you implore him.

"Yesah? Is that what you want?"

"Yes, please!"

"Only because you asked nicely."

He joins in, leaving you needy and trembling on your bed, spread wide open for him, watching as he removes his wet shorts and boxers, completely freeing his entire erect, heavy, hot, hard cock, just for you.

Your mouth waters at the sight and he proudly holds it in his hand, turning to make his way back to you, thrilling and scaring you at the same time as you've never had a cock like Aemond's inside you before.

"Do you take control pills? I don't have a condom."

"Yes, I take them, don't worry," you assure him instantly and he grins.

"Eager, huh?"

"Aemond," you groan and moan at the same time.

"Someone's acting like a little brat," he croons, starting to rub the tip of his cock against your pussy, making you shudder and moan, needing him inside you, "Behave yourself, princess. I'll give you exactly what you want."

"Stop teasing," you whine between whimpers.

When suddenly Aemond enters you in a single hard, firm movement that makes you release all the air in your lungs, moaning loudly at the rough intuition as he pulls it all out of you again.

"What did I say? Stop being a little brat and behave yourself," he warns you.

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I promise."

You plead desperately and moan as he slams the tip against your pussy, to again enter you fully in a more careful and slower way, letting you feel all of him, making you moan.

"Oh fuck, Aemond," you moan his name, drunk with pleasure, closing your eyes tight.

"Yeah, just like that, squeezing me so fucking good, baby," he murmurs hoarsely in delight.

He leans fully into you, kissing your hot, sweaty skin, just like him, then slides all the way down to your bottom, where you feel every inch of his long, hard cock, moaning into his mouth, as your whole body trembles.

He stops once he's all the way inside you, letting you get used to his size, while you feel him pulsing inside you and all his heat flooding through you.

When he rolls his hips in a grunt and his tip touches exactly your swollen clit in need of release.

His hands run along your waist and thighs as he lifts both of your legs and places them around his torso, feeling him sink more easily inside you.

"You're so hot, baby. So fucking perfect," he growls against your lips, closing his eye and rests his forehead with yours as he begins his swaying hips back and forth.

"You're so deep," you moan, clinging to his back, lightly digging your nails into his pale skin.

This makes Aemond grunt and feel more desperation as he begins to penetrate you with more rhythm, all the way in, with hard movements that hit exactly that spot inside you that makes you squirm beneath him.

"Yes Aemond, right there," you moan.

"Yeah? Do you like it, baby?"

"Yes, fuck, yes."

You both gasp into each other's mouths, where then his dark gaze returns to your features and he watches you intently, never ceasing to slam his hips hard and deep against you.

"You're mine now, you know that, don't you?" he asks you in a low, husky tone.

His words only make you clench tighter around him and you feel yourself slowly reaching your limit, each onslaught sending delicious waves all over your core that soothes your needy pussy.

"Say it," he demands forcefully, only this time to plunge your cock back into your wet pussy with a hard onslaught that knocks the air out of you, "Say you're mine."

"Yes," you gasp, "Yes, Aemond. I am yours," you manage to say it, "I am completely yours."

He smiles complacently and contentedly, never ceasing to move for a moment.

"Yes, you are," he croons, "You. Are. Mine," he rams you hard to the hilt on every accentuation, not giving you time to anticipate it, making you moan loudly in pleasure and pain, "And I don't fucking share."

He brings his lips back to your skin, marking and sucking on your breasts and neck even with his heavy cock inside you, fucking you hard and grunting against your ear telling you how tight you are.

He takes you completely over the edge, where your mind goes blank with each thrust, filling you completely, swelling inside you, as both you and he begin to gasp for breath, but he doesn't slow down or change his pace, continuing to penetrate you and press you against your bed.

Until finally everything inside you explodes, you see stars behind your eyes and Aemond's warm semen fills everything inside you, coming with an almost painful grunt in your ear and with a last strong thrust that leaves you drunk with pleasure and makes you forget everything for a moment.

Things didn't end with Aemond there, not at all.

He was honest with you when he told you that he wouldn't hurt you or make you just another girl on his list, just as he was honest in telling you that you are now his and he doesn't share.

After that day in your room, the little secret affair began.

When Aemond comes to your house along with Aegon, you both behave towards each other as you were before, completely indifferent.

However, you and especially he are not entirely patient, so once you reach your limit, he secretly intercepts you in one of the empty classrooms or labs and you take advantage of that little moment as much as possible.

You don't even speak to each other and avoid as much as possible to look each other, where no one suspects the two of you. And at school it's the same, although especially there you have to be more careful.

Even in the library, you both find a secluded corner between the shelves of books and can't keep your hands off each other, where Aemond makes you come on his fingers and sometimes you also dare to suck his cock, hoping not to be discovered.

As far as you know, he has not been seen with other and his usual girls, since almost all the time the two of you are texting each other and sometimes, when Cregan is not at home, you let him know and he comes as fast as he can, not missing the opportunity.

Already being in the four walls of your room, the two of you can do whatever you want without fear of being discovered, where Aemond fucks you against your mattress in all positions.

And sometimes, when things have not been in favor of either of you, he climbs through your window at midnight and unable to hold back any longer, he fucks you silently, silencing your moans with his mouth, hands or cock, since Cregan's room is at the end of the hallway.

And this lasts for a while, all in secret, where you look for small moments to share intimate moments, hidden caresses and soft whispers in your ear that only you and he can hear.

But of course, the good things can't last forever.

Jason Lannister, a friend of Cregan's, throws a Halloween party at his house and practically the entire school has been invited. So you see this as an opportunity to be able to be with Aemond for a few moments of the party.

Cregan dresses up as a wizard and you choose to dress up as a sexy sailor girl with a skirt that exposes your legs, a simple white blouse, you put on your tie and also your hat, and then you and Cregan head off to the party.

You immediately look for Aemond, but he is nowhere to be seen, even though you meet Aegon and his younger brother, Daeron.

However, not to be obvious, you start pouring yourself drinks and talking to your friends, starting to get into the same mood as everyone else because of the music with twinkling lights and also because of the whole decorated house.

You see Aegon talking to Cassandra Baratheon, dresses up as a vampire and she as an angel, then you see Alysanne talking to your brother, dresses up as a bunny, and then you keep looking around the party, not understanding where Aemond is.

You are about to send him a message, when you look absentmindedly towards the kitchen and then, there he finally is, only he is not alone.

Dresses up as a pirate, Aemond is chatting with his ex-girlfriend, the gorgeous Alys Rivers, dresses up as a witch.

You had been enjoying the party, but your mood inevitably changes and also without being able to help it, you feel a twinge of jealousy all over your insides, watching them intently.

They both talk, she occasionally laughs and places her hand on his chest, playfully smacking it, both of them too close, while you see Aemond's grin on his lips at all times, making the knot of jealousy in your stomach tighter.

And, you mean, you can't even blame him, she's Alys Rivers.

When then at that moment your gaze crosses his casually, who slowly wipes away his smile, but you quickly avert your gaze from him as you bite the inside of your cheek, trying to act nonchalant.

But too late, he's already noticed your annoyed look.

However, you quickly make room with Aegon, Cassandra and Daeron, simply to dissemble in front of them and him as well. Then Cregan and Alysanne join in and of course so does he, but you don't even notice him and continue drinking.

You notice how he wants to approach you slyly on a few occasions, but you don't let him, you continue to laugh with Daeron, ignoring him altogether, not wanting to talk or be with him anymore.

Until the hour starts to get late and taking advantage of the fact that one of your friends is already leaving, you ask her to drop you off at your house and she accepts. You just tell Cregan, who nods and you leave the party with your friend.

And once you get home, you take off your costume, take a shower and get ready to sleep, although you should have expected Aemond to start calling you, but you send it to voicemail.

He calls you a couple of times more where you don't answer and you also get severe messages from him that you don't read, to finally leave your phone on mute and try to sleep.

But you barely last a few minutes with your eyes closed, suddenly you hear some sounds at your window.

You sit up confused in your bed, looking at your window, instantly knowing what it is or rather who it is, since only one person has the habit of doing this and you let out a long resigned breath.

Reluctantly you open your curtains and the window, where the figure of Aemond stands down there, watching you confused and attentive.

"What are you doing?" you reproach him sleepily.

"You're not answering my calls or texts," he tells you with some anger in his tone of voice, "And you ignored me the whole party."

You press your lips together in anger as well.

"It semeed to me like you were too busy," you can't help but say with some bitterness.

He lets out a sigh, lowering his gaze for a moment.

"It's not what you thin—

"No matter. Go home. I want to sleep," you cut him off, intending to turn away from your window.

"I swear to God Y/N, I'm not leaving until you listen to me," he warns you.

"It's after midnight!" you reproach him.

"Open the door," he demands.

"No," you say firmly.

"I'm not going to repeat myself."

"I don't care."

"Y/N," he warns you again.

"Stay there all night, I'm not opening for you."

You sentence and finally move away from the window, close it and close your curtains as well.

Feeling no remorse, you settle back into your bed, ready to sleep again, but only a few seconds pass when you hear noise again.

And that's when you realize you should have locked your windows.

You startle and turn your head to watch how Aemond is entering through your windows with the same agility as always, with a serious and threatening look, jumping into your room and you look at him angrily.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?"

"You don't know what you just got yourself into," he says as he makes his way towards you.

"Fuck you," you spit back at him.

"Oh yeah, I just pretend to do that, princess."

"Alys wasn't available at this time that you decided to come and play with me?"

He lets out a long breath, rolling his eye.

"You're getting it all wrong—

"Oh I am?" you inquire, "She's your fucking ex, Aemond. I'm not stupid."

"In fact yes, you are being stupid right now, " he says, coming towards you.

And just before you can escape, he catches you, instantly grabbing you by both wrists, cornering you between him and your bed, climbing on top of you with a mischievous, menacing grin and his pupil fully dilated.

"Let go of me," you gasp, trying to shake him off.

"Listen to me—

"I mean it, get off me and get the fuck out of my house!"

He cocks his head.

"Where did this bratty attitude come from, hm?"

"Aemond," you plead, "Stop it."

"Oh baby," he croons, bringing his lips to your ear, "Can't you see? Can't you see how fucking crazy I am about you?" he murmurs hoarsely.

You try to fight your own urges, telling yourself that you shouldn't let yourself get carried away by him, that he can talk and fuck whoever he wants, while you are only exclusively for him and these are just empty words to convince you.

"Alys and I ended on good terms, we're just friends, it's nothing to worry about," he says earnestly in your ear, as your breath is cut short when you feel his knee make its way between your legs.

"Aemond," you whine.

"But if you want me to stop talking to her, fine, I will," he murmurs in understanding, only to feel his knee press lightly into your pussy, making you moan.

"Oh, A-aemond-" you try to say, feeling so good.

"Yeah, baby? What's wrong? Does it feel good?"

You can't formulate words, especially when he puts more pressure and makes you gasp more, just that making you feel good, only to then feel him drop almost his weight against you and now positioning himself between your legs, he starts rubbing his hard cock inside his pants against you, making you shudder.

Now he gasps along with you, as he lets go of your wrists and slides one of his hands under your shirt, kneading one of your breasts with ease as you sleep without a bra.

You arch your back against him and bite your bottom lip as he begins to leave soft kisses down your neck, never letting go of your touch and never stopping rubbing against you.

"Please, Aemond, please," you beg him, needing him.

He marks the skin of your neck, sucking and sucking, then brings his lips back to your ear.

You bring one of your hands to his face and turn him towards you, kissing him with need and depth where he responds in kind, where you are completely delighted by his caresses and words.

"Now do you get it, princess?" he says hoarsely, "You're the only one who can make me play this fucking game of hide and seek with your brother and everyone else."

He says honestly, making you moan as he puts more pressure on his hips.

"But you know what? I've had enough and I don't fucking care if Cregan bothers or not. I don't give a shit."

And that night Aemond fucks you from behind, hard and fast, while you hold the sheets tightly under you and avoid shushing your sobs and moans too loudly against the pillow, as every time you do, Aemond gives you a hard spank with his hand on one of your ass cheeks as a way of punishment for your bratty attitude earlier.

And he doesn't give you a chance to silence your moans as he gathers all your hair into a fist and makes your back arch, while his other hand takes it to hold your throat firmly and rests his cheek against yours to fuck you with more accessibility, fast and deep, bringing you to the peak several times.

And when it's all over, you melt into the arms of your perfect, official boyfriend.

thank you so much for reading!❤

#aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen smut #aemond one shot

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haknom · 1 year

Text

A COMPLETE GUIDE TO DANCE (AND DEFINITELY NOT LOVE) — NISHIMURA RIKI

SYNOPSIS: Niki felt his world crumble after hearing his doctor’s words—he wouldn’t be able to compete in his biggest dance competition. After an incident that left him injured with the need of 4 months to recover, life was considered terrible. When he receives the news that you, a newcomer, would be taking his spot he knew he had lots to teach you. Starting with putting you in your place.

PAIRING: dancer!niki x dancer-fem!reader (ft. enhypen, soobin from txt, jisung from nct dream, dino (chan) and wonwoo from seventeen, sunwoo from tbz, and mentions of many more).

GENRES: highschool au, dance au, (kinda) enemies to lovers, unrequited love, romance, some angst, and lots of humour.

WARNINGS: crying, a lot of insulting (they hate each other at the start), injuries, mentions of blood (nothing rlly serious), eating, kissing, mentions of overthinking, lmk if i missed anything!

PLAYLIST: here!!

NOTE: special thanks to @soov and @hanniluvi for helping me write parts i struggled on ☝️☝️ but here is the final product!! i was determined to finish this so It took me about a week. very happy! title is also from @sunoksunny and it literally fits the fic so well which makes it even better. ty to @amakumos for proofreading as well🤗

WORDCOUNT: 15604 words

TAGLIST: @soov @redm4ri @ox1-lovesick @urszn @feeeli @taejays @hanniluvi @dakkisz @dimplewonie @ddeonudepressions @xiaoderrrr @ja4hyvn @mmaplepastries @essmarye @w3bqrl @jennaissantes @yenqa @yeokii @yyunari @wvnkoi @flwrshee @starz4hyunz @eulris @alicesolengg @ohmylix @txtbrainrot @miyaheartsjortega @eneiyri

STEP 1.

Dance was Riki’s most prized possession. Growing up he was told he had impeccable talent in dancing which only made him love it even more. He loved the compliments he got and took them in as motivation to continue improving his talent to wow others even more.

As a child, he always peeked inside his parents dance studio when classes were happening. He learned a few tips and new moves that he made a mental note for to practice once he returned home in front of his mirror.

The dance studio was like a second home to him. Although his parents were the ones who owned the studio, he was spotted there way more than they were.

If you couldn’t find him in his room playing video games, he was most likely in the dance studio with dimmed lights and dancing flawlessly in front of the mirror.

It ended up becoming a habit of his; rushing to the dance studio once school ended and staying there until dinner was served. His uniform drenched in sweat, tie loose, his shoes squeaking once harshly pressed against the polished floor with music playing to back it up.

Nothing—besides video games—but dancing with friends or alone could bring him the joy he needed to survive.

But for it to all crumble away after hearing a few words made it feel like everything meant nothing to him.

“What?” He didn’t want to believe what his doctor said was the truth. “I said you’ve severely injured your ankle. It must’ve gotten worse since you continuously danced on it and ignored the pain until it became unbearable.” Wonwoo spoke while pushing away from his desk causing his chair to roll over to Riki.

“Therefore, you won’t be able to partake in any practices and competitions for 4 months.” He said in a disappointed tone. Riki’s eyes widened. Suddenly it became harder to breathe upon hearing those words. Words that he never wanted to hear.

He felt like he was suffocating. Body becoming immobile with the throbbing in his ankle not making it any better. It made him irritated and frustrated. He wanted to cry there and then but fought back the tears until his appointment was over.

His opportunity to attend the biggest dance competition he ever had that could practically predict his future career was gone in a mere second. It was 3 months away but he would still need an extra month to heal. There’s no way he’d heal in time.

“Here, you seem like you need it.” Wonwoo’s voice pulled him out of his suffocating thoughts as he looked up in confusion but the single droplet that fell from his lash line was enough to answer his unsaid question.

He was crying and he hadn’t even noticed it. The grip he had on the edge of the chair tightened as he harshly bit his bottom lip—hard enough to draw small droplets of blood. Wonwoo felt terrible. He knew how much dancing meant to Riki.

Ever since Riki was a little kid, he always had something new to say about dancing every time he visited Wonwoo’s office. It was something that never changed. So breaking the terrible news to Riki was already hard enough but seeing his reaction made it even more difficult.

“Dr. Wonwoo, please come to the main office.” The nurse said on the intercoms. “I have to go, stay healthy. Don’t knock yourself out because of this, it won’t be that bad. Mum, please monitor how he is for the next 4 months and come back monthly for a checkup. Call if you have any worries.” He smiled at her, she smiled at him, and then he was gone.

“Riki, let’s go. It’s best if you start resting now.” His mother said as she reached for the crutches left by Wonwoo but he didn’t move an inch. He was still trying to process the sudden heartbreaking news.

He wasn’t able to dance nor partake in the competition that was in 3 months. The one he had been training for his whole life only for it to be swept away before his eyes. How else was he supposed to react?

During the drive home he didn’t bat an eye at the studio. Looking at it then at his ankle would only make what was supposed to be reality be reality. It had been an hour since they left the doctor's appointment. An hour for Riki to take in everything that had happened. And he did, sadly.

Slowly, one by one, tears began flowing from his eyes in silence. It wasn’t a bad cry but more of a silent cry. It began to progress into something even worse causing his shoulders to shake to his sobs and sniffles.

It was a terrible sight to see which only made his mother feel even worse. She knew it wasn’t her fault but seeing her own son react in this way made it seem like it.

Rolling into the driveway didn’t stop Riki’s sobs. Nothing did. Not even the so-called comforting hugs from his sisters and parents. Once it was time to sleep, his eyes were dry and puffy. It was like he cried out every salty tear he had within him.

“Riki?” His mother called from his doorway. She sighed at the silence and walked over to his bed. His body shuddered at the sudden cold feeling of the ice pack on his injury.

“Lift your leg, if you can.” She whispered as he followed through. Gently, his mother placed a soft object, most likely a pillow, motioning him to relax his leg once again. She covered him with a medium weighted blanket and smiled at his drowsy state.

“Sleep well.” Her voice sounded distant and close to a mumble as he felt himself slowly falling asleep by the minute. With the little amount of energy he had left, he thanked her, causing her to stop in her tracks for a moment and smile even brighter.

It was like the moment his door clicked shut, it felt as if a switch labeled 'SLEEP" was activated, swiftly transporting him to dreamland. 99.9% of him was hoping whatever had happened earlier was a part of his dream. The other 0.1% knew it most likely wasn’t.

Waking up the next day with the same throbbing pain from yesterday proved his hope was useless. In return, he can never dance again no matter how hard he tries or prays.

STEP 2.

It had been a week since the doctor’s appointment. He was doing quite better than before. The news finally sunk in, leaving him to cry less but it wasn’t as bad as he expected.

Once he found out the more he rested the faster he could heal, fighting the urge to dance wasn’t that hard. He even switched to singing to distract himself—but spoiler alert, it’s definitely not his thing. At least he still had video games and friends to keep him occupied for the time being.

He took his seat on the bus already tired from using his crutches to get to the bus stop. “Woah, what happened to you!” His friend Jake exclaimed from the seat across from him. He turned around to face the boy and sighed.

“Long story.” He was tired of explaining it to everyone who had asked before. Jake hummed in response, grabbed his backpack and fled to the empty seat behind Riki.

“So, how’s the dance for your competition coming along?” His question made Riki freeze. Although he was getting better, that didn’t mean the thought of the competition didn’t hurt him. “Wait, are you not competing?” Jake asked.

“Apparently, my ankle will heal in 4-5 months. Maybe even 3 and a half if I’m lucky.”

“So you’re not participating?”

“Only if my injury doesn’t heal before the performances,” he explained. “But you’re still going to be behind, right? Soobin might have a replacement for you instead.” Riki looked directly at Jake with daggers.

“Just saying, that’s what happens during our choir performances, especially the solos.” He backed away, hands in the air for his defense and took his seat.

He wasn’t completely wrong and that’s what Riki hated.

He didn’t like the thought of being replaced after working so hard to get to where he was. If he were to get replaced, he hoped it would be someone with enough talent and skill like him, for example, Chan or Jisung, his close friends on the team.

The bus stopped at another spot, picking up new passengers. Riki adjusted his crutches to make an easier walkway and leaned his head on the window.

He really didn’t want Jake to be right.

Monday mornings always had a scheduled 7:15 AM dance practice before attending classes followed by one during lunch but Riki's condition made him limited to many things and waking up early wasn’t one of them.

The dark circles showcased under his eyes proved his point. The constant throbbing pain he felt throughout the night made sleeping a struggle. He definitely would be napping the moment he got home.

As he walked with his crutches under his armpits, heads turned at the sound in shock. The boy who boasted about dancing 24/7 was now incapable of doing so.

“Dude? What's up with you?” Chan came running over to Riki in a hurry. “April Fools is a month away, are you perhaps doing it earlier?” He inquired. Riki looked at the boy in confusion. “Are you being for real? Chan, I seriously injured my ankle.” Chan’s eyes widened at his words.

“Impossible! What about your competition, the one you’ve been training for since forever?”

“Can’t,” Riki exhaled, “I can’t participate in it anymore.” They stood in front of his locker with a crutch laying on Chan’s.

“You’re lying.” He spoke in disbelief.

“I’m not, but I wish I was.” Riki pulled out his notebooks, slipping them into the opened pouch of his backpack.

“And this isn’t bothering you? Come on, it’s the biggest event of your life!” He exclaimed. Riki looked at Chan while shutting his locker shut with a loud slam.

“Of course I was sad—very sad. But still, why are you offended by this more than I am?” Riki truly was unsure of how and why Chan felt like this but the way Chan walked away in annoyance was not a good enough answer.

“Okay then…” He mumbled, swinging his backpack on then grabbing his crutch. All he had to do was walk to his next class which was located upstairs. Hopping up the stairs on one foot would definitely drain his energy.

Usually, he and Chan would walk to History together but that wasn’t the case for them today. He was long gone—nowhere to be seen, and that only took him 5 minutes to get there. It was like he was teasing Riki but really wasn’t.

The bell rang the moment he stepped foot in class, shocking everyone especially his teacher, Mr. Junhui, meaning he would have to go through another explanation process.

“What happened, Riki?” Mr. Junhui questioned as he sighed, opening his mouth to speak whatever flew out but someone beat him to it.

“He hurt his ankle and can’t participate in the upcoming competition.” Chan said, anger visible in his voice.

All heads turned to look at Chan, including Riki’s. “Really? Is that true?” A classmate asked. Riki cleared his throat and nodded. “Sadly, yeah.” He said as the classmate gasped.

“How did you feel when you heard the news?” She asked once more. “Heartbroken. I cried a bit, which is quite embarrassing to admit, but it’s not like you can choose what happens in your life.” He took his seat, beside Chan, while placing his crutches at the side of his desk.

He slouched over his desk, letting out a deep sigh. Once Mr. Junhui began teaching, Riki looked over to Chan in curiosity. “Stop,” Chan mumbled and looked away from his curious gaze.

“What am I doing wrong?” Silence. “Come on, are you really mad?” Silence, again.

“Chan—”

“Are you really going to throw away the competition just like that?” He whisper-shouted, startling Riki with his sad but slightly annoyed tone. “Look, I really don’t have a choice. For the most part…” Riki hesitated.

“You or Jisung could replace my spot. That’s an even better opportunity for you both.” As much as he didn’t want to say those words, there was still a high chance of them being his replacements.

Chan tucked his bottom lip underneath his teeth at the thought. They promised each other to pursue a career in dance together. This competition being the only one that could decide whether or not it was possible just had to take place at the wrong time.

“No thanks. There’s no way I’d take such a big opportunity like that away from you over a silly injury.” Chan said dryly but nicer than before. His attention was then brought back to focusing on Mr. Junhui’s teaching. Riki smiled to himself with the urge to tease him even more.

“Hey, can I have a pencil?” He asked, gaining his attention again but his eyes still on their teacher. “Get your own, you probably have one somewhere in your backpack.” He’d emphasize.

“Chill, I organized it the other day. I had nothing else better to do.” Riki said while reaching for his own backpack as Chan hummed in amusement. He pulled out a pencil he kept for this exact occasion. “Perfect,” he mumbled in satisfaction and began writing on the assigned worksheet from a while ago.

Chan glanced at the boy then did a double take at his pencil. “What the hell is that?” He asked. “A pencil, what else?” Riki said, stating the obvious with a chuckle. “Riki, that’s at least 5 centimeters. Is this your way of making me give you a pencil instead?” The said boy looked over at Chan offended.

“Hey! Is that what you think of me?” Riki questioned as Chan nodded. “Well then, you know me so well!” He whispered with a smile, opening his hands for a new pencil. Chan scoffed at the action but still handed him a pencil either way.

It was way better than the one he was previously using. “Thank you,” he said, smiling growing even more. Chan looked at Riki’s happy state as he wrote the date and his name on the blank worksheet, a smile slowly growing on his own features.

There’s no possible way for him to stay mad at a boy like Riki.

Riki was starving. A slice of toast wouldn’t easily fill him up for the whole morning. Once he arrived in the empty gym, he took a seat on the edge of the stage and placed his backpack on his lap.

His crutches leaned on the edge of the stage as he waited for the rest of the dance team to arrive for practice. It was silly that they were having practice in a gym where competitive team sports members trained all day long instead of a studio like usual.

But after the incident during one of their practices that caused what looked like a distinguishable fire to take place, left many more damages than they all had expected. Lesson learned at the time; don’t leave a fireworks machine near inflammable objects near a group of teenagers.

The sound of the heavy metal doors opening echoed through the silent gymnasium revealing his dance team. “Well you’re here early.” The coach of their team, Soobin said. “I have nothing else to do,” Riki joked while pointing at the obvious cast on his foot.

“You hurt yourself? How?” Soobin asked,shocked and confused. “Riki injured himself?” Jisung said, appearing from behind Soobin. “Fouettes,” he started, “I must’ve injured myself the day we were practicing them.” His words elicited a few reactions from the crowd of students.

“I thought the pain was from me practicing a lot which should go away eventually but the more I kept practicing, the more painful it became. Almost unbearable.” Riki said before taking a bite of his sandwich. “Then my mother took me to the doctors, and guess what. That’s when this came in,” he pointed to his covered ankle and crutches.

“Did it hurt?” Yunjin, another member, asked. “Eh, not as much as before since I stopped putting pressure on it. But when receiving the news, yes. It’s going to take at least 4 or 5 months to heal.” He said, gaining Soobin’s attention.

“That means you can’t participate in the final competition.” Soobin seemed worried about Riki's condition and the final competition. His slender fingers delicately weaved through the strands, messily fixing up his hair obviously stressed at the thought of having to change the final lineup. The real question is: who would match his dance style the most?

He’d let out a deep sigh with a shake of his head. “Everyone, let’s start with stretching.” He said as they placed down their belongings and claimed a free spot in the gymnasium. Riki watched in amusement as they all went about with doing their own different stretches.

“So this is what we look like…” He mumbled, stifling a laugh at the same time. It wasn’t because they looked weird but more so silly. He was glad he didn’t have to partake in the stretching session.

“I’m here! I’m sorry that I was late,” a voice exclaimed from the entrance of the gym doors. All heads turned to look at the exhausted figure. Soobin’s eyes seemed to have lit up at the sight of you as he approached you with a huge grin.

Why aren’t you angry… You thought at the sight of Soobin’s expression not changing. “Ah, Y/N, just the person I was looking for.” He said as you raised an eyebrow at his words. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

STEP 3.

“What?” You questioned, confusion evident in your features. “I’ll tell you in a bit, first join the group of stretchers.” He instructed as you hesitatingly nodded, cautiously dropping your bag to the ground and heading off to join the crowd.

Soobin smiled to himself, satisfied with his mind. Since Riki was incapable of participating in the final competition, you could cover for him. Your dance styles were very similar and were both passionate in the things you did. Determined to complete it flawlessly no matter what the consequences were.

It was as if you two were the same person placed in different bodies. Quite creepy.

You weren’t able to forget about Soobin’s words from a moment ago. Curiosity crept up your body with an even bigger urge to find out what he was talking about. In silence, you stretched your limbs as the others partnered up to assist each other with specific stretches.

It was awkward. You had only recently joined the team, around a month or two ago, and seeing everyone in friend groups and so on made you feel like an outsider. In your time alone, you were able to learn the names and faces of some members on the team.

For example, Yunjin who hung out with another group of girls; Karina, Chaeryeong, Jiwoo, and another face you couldn’t place a name to. Then there was a group of both males and females consisting of Haewon, Changmin, Haerin, and Jaemin. And once again another face you couldn’t place a name to.

Although you knew most of their names and faces, that didn’t mean you had spoken to them one on one. There were many times when you’d coincidentally eavesdrop on their conversations whenever you were nearby and eventually picked up their names.

As well as those times when Soobin would call them over or say their names during group sessions. It helped a lot with matching their names to their faces.

Riki packed away his container into his backpack, unaware of Soobin’s tall figure approaching him. “Riki!” He called from a few steps away from him. He looked up at the sound of his voice, flinching once he noticed Soobin standing right in front of him.

“Yes, coach?” He asked. “So, I understand you won’t be able to participate in the final competition…” Soobin started as Riki’s eyes lit up. “Oh, about that. My doctor informed me that if I rest a lot my ankle may heal in 3 and a half months instead.” He said, causing Soobin to ‘ah’ in understanding.

“But either way would you be ready in time?” He asked the boy who sat before. Riki pondered for a moment. He wanted to say yes but if he was being honest, he didn’t want to perform.

With his injury holding him back, all his team members would improve their dancing to perfection while his would look sloppier than ever. He would be behind.

“I wouldn’t,” he said with a frown. Soobin gave him a tight-lipped smile in return. The way he felt was understandable. Once known as one of the team’s best dancers and ended up as the ‘worst’ in a blink.

“That’s okay.” Soobin reassured him, feeling even more terrible. He wasn’t sure if he should still tell him about the news or keep it to himself. “But enough of that. What is it that you wanted to say?” He asked as Soobin hesitated.

“I mean, you seemed like you had something to tell me when you first arrived in front of me.” Riki said as Soobin shook his head. “Well, since you’re incapable of performing…I was thinking of having someone take your spot,” he started as Riki nodded. “Yeah I was thinking that was going to happen. I was thinking of someone like—”

“Y/N.”

“—Chan or Jisung—what?!” He exclaimed at his words. It’s not like he didn’t know who you were, it was only because of how long you’ve been on the team.

“Why her? There’s way more capable people on our team who have been here way longer than she has. Are you even sure she has enough potential and is prepared?” He asked, leaving Soobin quite offended by his choice of words.

“First off, be nice. Second, you guys are practically the same people. Your talents are similar and your desires to complete tasks perfectly are the exact same.” He said, Riki’s face contorted in discomfort.

“Although she’s only been on our team for a month or two, she was still able to show her true skills and determination, which is why I think she deserves to be qualified for something like this.” Soobin finished his sentence. What nonsense was he even talking about?

Riki couldn’t argue back. Soobin was his coach and whatever he had ready to say back wasn’t anything nice. “Okay,” he mumbled, “Go ahead, it doesn’t bother me.” He said in a convincing unbothered tone.

That was a lie.

It bothered him a lot. It felt like he wasn't being appreciated for his skills. Yes, he was jealous. How could he not be after losing his biggest opportunity to someone he wasn’t even acquainted with?

If it was given to someone he knew or had incredible talent that he had seen before, that wouldn’t have bothered him as much as you did.

Soobin smiled and nodded while clasping his hands together. His actions infuriated Riki even more but he held back his anger and watched Soobin walk off to gather the group of dancers in silence.

“So, as you all may know, one of our dancers is terribly injured and won’t be able to participate in the final performance.” Soobin said as they all nodded with frowns displayed on their faces. “No worries! Riki and I had come to an agreement that someone else will replace his spot in the competition. Y/N, congrats!” He cheered while clapping, alone.

Everyone gasped, eyes wide as they hastily looked over at Riki who seemed more furious than ever. You, on the other hand, stood in confusion. Who was Riki and why were you chosen to take his spot?

Suddenly all eyes were on you, some shocked, scared, and confused but one face in particular caught your attention. He didn’t show a physical reaction to Soobin’s words. Instead his eyes showed it all. It carried many emotions, specifically sadness, jealousy, and most of all, anger.

What trouble did Soobin put you through now?

STEP 4.

You filled up your water bottle using the water fountain that was located outside of the gymnasium. The wind blew the trees as they swayed in sync. Nature reminds you a lot about dancing. There were many aspects that were similar to the things used in dance which made you fall in love with nature as well.

Photography was also something you enjoyed. Combining it with nature only meant perfection. It was even prettier than alone.

You’d place the cap back onto your water bottle after taking a short sip, sighing in satisfaction. It had only been 10 minutes since practice ended. You noticed everyone was gone from the gymnasium when you peeked into the windows.

Walking around the corridor that led you to another building of the school—Drama class, you sighed at the thought of your group presentations that were due today. Everything was finished and ready to be shared but you still felt slightly nervous. You continued your walk to the building before being brought to an abrupt stop.

“What the—”

“Listen, I don’t care about teaching you the 4 dances I choreographed myself, but just because you replaced my spot in the big competition after joining our team only a month ago doesn’t mean you’re better than me.” He said while staring daggers into your narrowed eyes.

You were genuinely very confused. Who was he and why was he talking about the incident from a few minutes ago? Why the hell did he look like he was about 2 feet away from you?

In your peripheral vision, you located a blurry silver-grey item that caged you in his little compartment. You turned your head to get a better view of the item which appeared to be a crutch.

You looked back at the boy who stood in front of you then down to his feet. He stood on one foot somehow maintaining his balance. Connecting the dots in your head, you were finally able to figure out who he was.

“Oh, you must be Riki.” You said, slightly unphased by his approach. He definitely wasn’t what you were expecting him to be like. At the sound of his name and reactions from everyone in the room, he seemed to be very admirable. You were quite excited to meet him but he turned out to be nothing of that sort.

“Are you really trying to intimidate me with your crutches?” You said in disbelief. He stiffened in his spot. Clearly his plan didn’t work. You bursted out in laughter. That’s definitely a new way to approach someone.

“Whatever, keep my words in mind. Meet me today after school in the gymnasium. We can start practicing there,” he said as your laughter came to a halt. “Yeah, no thanks. I’m not free today.” You explained as his brows furrowed, unsatisfied with your response. “Let’s just start tomorrow,” you said and began walking away.

He was speechless. For someone who's quiet during all practices you sure knew how to run that mouth of yours. He hated it and slowly began to hate you as well. It was safe to say the feelings were mutual.

Riki kissed his teeth in frustration while raising up his crutch at your now far away figure to only drop it by accident. He sighed at the sight of it on the grassy ground and reached down to pick it while maintaining his balance on one foot.

It would’ve been a lie if he told you he didn’t have time tomorrow to start your practices because he did. His injury made him unavailable for many extracurriculars nowadays.

He took a seat in the same place from yesterday’s practice during lunch, the edge of the stage. He awaited your arrival, watching time pass by on his phone, timing you. It was 3 minutes past 3:00. Only 3 minutes ever since the bell rang. Yesterday’s practice showed your habit of being late and he hated it.

The opening of the gym doors echoed through his thoughts as he looked up from his phone, spotting you in the distance. “You’re late,” he said in a stern and annoyed tone as you walked over to him. “Why should I be on time for someone like you?” You said while rolling your eyes leaving him to scoff at your words.

He ignored your previous sentence and watched you place your backpack down on the polished wood floors. Even the way you placed your backpack down ticked him off. Who throws it so carelessly as if there’s nothing delicate inside?

You began stretching on your own as an unsettling silence fell between you two until his irritating voice had to break it. “Do you have anything prepared to showcase your skills?” He asked as you stopped in your stretching position.

“What?” You asked, genuinely confused. You were never informed of this. “Like a premade dance… Have you never attended auditions or something?” He asked as you shook your head. “I only dance for fun, why should I compete to win?” For some reason, your answer irritated him.

Should he really let you take his opportunity at this rate? You both had different mindsets when it came to dancing. Your responses left him unsatisfied and frustrated which was never a good sign.

He took a deep breath to calm himself down before proceeding with asking questions. “So you have nothing to show?” He asked as you thought for a moment. “Well, there’s one thing,” you started while walking over to your backpack to get your phone.

“So unprepared…” He whispered but with the shallowness of the gymnasium, his words echoed over to where you stood. You rolled your eyes while mocking his annoying voice in return. On your phone you pulled up a song you normally enjoyed on a daily basis and walked over to where he sat.

“It’s nothing long, so don’t get your hopes up,” you warned as he laughed. “I wasn’t going to anyway.” Once again, you rolled your eyes at his words and waited for the song to play while getting in position.

As the first beat sounded, your position switched. You proceeded with the choreography you had practiced for most of your teen years. Riki didn’t know what he was witnessing or whether to be traumatized, amazed or both.

He had always been too focused on his own movements and never noticed yours. You practiced at the back end of the gymnasium while he practiced in the area near the doors. That was definitely something different about you two.

Your movements were sharp and clean, similar to how he viewed himself. It was impressive how similar your dance styles were. Maybe Soobin wasn’t saying nonsense like he thought he was.

He watched in amusement as you went along with the dance. It’s been a few minutes since you’ve started the dance. He wasn’t sure how long it was supposed to be but he truly wanted to see more.

“Okay… You can stop staring at me now,” You said in an awkward tone. “I was not!” He exclaimed with slightly wide eyes. You nodded with a hum as he rolled his eyes.

“Anyways, I could do way better than that.” He insulted you as you scoffed. “In those crutches? Yeah, please.” You retorted with narrowed eyes. He cleared his throat in embarrassment as you stifled a laugh. “That’s what I thought,” you mumbled.

“So, we have only 3 months, meaning you’ll have to practice a lot. There are 4 dances; 2 solos, a duo, and a group dance. Are you sure you could do them all?” He explained as you nodded. “Yeah, right.” he mumbled and you raised your hand in a punching motion.

“Whatever!” You exclaimed and walked over to your backpack for a sip of water. Thinking back to his words before, you were curious as to who the second person included in the duo was.

“You said there’s a duo dance, right? Who’s included?” You asked, eyes filled with genuine curiosity. Mostly everyone on the dance team didn’t take a liking to you. A few would start up short and quick conversations with you but nothing else.

Judging by yesterday’s incident, their perspective on you had gotten a lot worse even if you hadn’t done anything.

“It’s Chan, my friend.” He said while searching through his phone for previous dance practices to show. “He’s a great dancer and quite closed off. It’ll be hard to build a relationship with him, so don’t try to.” He warned.

After witnessing Chan’s anger once he found out Riki injured his ankle, he was worried about how he felt after finding out about the news. He would’ve been 100% against that fact.

You had no clue who Chan was. There wasn’t a face you could match his name to but didn’t bother asking for an in-depth explanation of who he is.

“What about the group dance?” You asked. “Right. It consists of most of our team members; Jisung, Changmin, Yunjin, Haerin, Jaemin, and Chaeryeong.” He lists as you nod. Finally, people you knew.

The lineups weren’t bad at all. You’ve watched their dances many times and admired how they moved in their own ways.

“Here,” he said while handing you his phone. “Don’t do anything silly with it.” He warned with narrowed eyes as you took the device from him. “Wasn’t planning on it.” you looked at the screen.

It showed him in what seemed to be a dance studio. The lights were dimmed but his face was still visible. The subtle shine on his forehead showcasing the sweat from his hard work that caused a few strands to stick against it.

You began to play the video, revealing the first solo dance. By the looks of it, the dance seemed to be intermediate level which wasn’t bad for you. But the more you watched the choreography in his other 4 dances, it became harder.

During the duo performance, he and Chan moved very fast. It was almost impossible to distinguish what moves they used. You weren’t sure if you’ve seen Chan’s face in person yet. The video didn’t show his as well as it showed Riki’s aggravating one.

“Okay. Like I said before, there’s only 3 months to learn those 4 dances. In the group dance, there’s not many solo moments but more duo moments. I’m not sure if they’re going to tune the dance to fit everything again, but yeah. Goodluck.” He smiled and took his phone back from you.

These 3 months will definitely be the worst moments of your life.

STEP 5.

Although it's only been a few days since your first practice with Riki, you hated it. You returned home with sore limbs at least everyday. Your mind was occupied by learning these dances before the deadline that you even forgot about the semester switch.

Semester 1 was finally over while semester 2 rolled in meaning there would be new classes, new assignments, and new classmates. You were usually excited to see who your classmates would be but today wasn’t the case.

“What are you doing here?” You asked in annoyance. “I was going to ask you the same thing.” He said. Biology, previously known as your favourite class, was now your most hated timeslot on your schedule. You looked around the room, looking for any other empty seats but there was nothing.

The only empty seat happened to be beside Riki, your new lab partner. He held a cocky smile across his lips as you grimaced at the sight. “What are you planning, weirdo?” You insulted and took your seat beside him.

“What makes you think I’m planning something?” He asked while twirling his pencil between his fingers. “I don’t know. But whatever it is, don’t bother asking me. I’d rather be the one walking in crutches than do anything for you.” He looked at you, smile faltering. “Well, that’s insulting.” He mumbled.

At least you only had to share one class with him in the morning.

Or so you thought. Walking into all 4 of your classes being greeted by an unpleasant sight, Riki. And to make things worse, the only free seat was always beside him. How bad must your luck be?

“Can I have a pencil?” He asked but you ignored him. “Hello? I’m talking to you.” He said while lightly poking you in the shoulder. He acted like a child who wanted attention from their parents.

“Hello—”

“Take it.” You harshly placed the pencil in his hand and searched through your pencil case for a new one. “Thanks,” he said. You sighed, thinking that was the last of his troubles but no, it was only the beginning.

As class progressed, he only bothered you even more. Asking for an eraser, highlighter, for you to get him a new sheet of paper. You would’ve declined all his requests and forced him to do everything on his own but he always found a way to use his injury as an excuse.

“It’s literally two steps away?” You said in disbelief. “Two steps I can’t take. Hello, did you forget?” He pointed at his cast as you rolled your eyes in return and followed through.

After this, every turn you took whether or not you were in class, he was there. His back and injured ankle was pressed against the brick wall with his crutches under his armpits. You quickly turned on your pivot foot and immediately began to walk the other way.

All you wanted was a peaceful lunch but he just had to ruin it. There was no dance practice too, it was perfect.

The sound of his crutches tapping the concrete floor quickened from chasing after you as hope began to drain from your body. Each tap showed his determination and strength, showing that he wasn’t letting an injury stop him from doing what he wants. He created a distinct rhythm that echoed through the surroundings, making you want to walk even faster.

Each step, the intensity grew, finding a way to overcome the physical obstacles you put him through. He just wouldn’t stop–his determination was killing you. You trying to tire him out only fueled his passion to catch up, wanting to annoy you even more.

Finally giving up, you turned around with a very annoyed look as he staggered on his feet, trying to maintain his balance from the sudden stop.

“What do you need now?” You asked, the annoyed tone still lingering in your voice. “Why do you always suspect that I have a reason?” He asked back, causing you to narrow your eyes. “So, you did that for no reason?” The annoyed look on your face never left and only deepened at the sound of his laughter.

“Of course not,” his laughter died down, “... Um, what was I here for again?” He looked up from his shoes and was met with your irritated face. “Hurry up or I’m leaving.” You warned as his eyes grew in size.

“I just remembered,” no he didn’t—he didn’t have a reason to talk with you but still wanted to do so, “Mr. Sunwoo said he wanted to see you.” He explained. “That’s all you had to say? And what does he need to see me for?” You asked as he stiffened. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as the thought of an excuse. “All he said was that he needed to see you. I don’t know the rest,” he said.

You looked him up and down and walked away. His hesitation was skeptical but you still went to the teacher’s faculty office either way. The walk over wasn’t that bad but with the humidity from the sun, it only felt worse.

Once you opened the office door, you were greeted by the sound of banging. You were concerned and confused at what it could’ve been but shrugged it off and continued your walk over to Mr. Sunwoo’s desk.

But to your dismay, the closer you got to his desk, the louder the unpleasant sound became. You stood at the opposite end of his desk, his back facing you. “Mr. Sunwoo,” you called but there was no response.

“Oh, hi sweetheart,” he said as a female teacher walked past his desk. He was known to be a flirt amongst many of his colleagues but the more you got to know him, you were able to see how nice he was. “The printer isn’t working at the moment…” He pointed at the said object and banged on it even harder.

You swore you heard a crack in response. He clears his throat at the sound and stands up tall, “Lovely day, isn’t it?” She hesitatingly nodded as he laughed awkwardly. “Fancy a coffee later? If you’re free, of course!” His voice raised in volume as she quickly walked away from him, shaking her head frequently.

He sighed as she disappeared into thin air and looked down at his now broken printer. “Mr. Sunwoo,” you called, startling the poor man. “Oh, Y/N! Hey,” he greeted with a slight smile. You smiled back as your eyes flicked over to his printer. He followed your gaze and sighed once more.

“Printy—I mean, my printer broke just now. I think I printed too many things at once…” He says, staring at the huge crack displayed on the printer’s surface. “I can tell…” You mumbled while looking directly at it. “Anyways, what brings you here?” He asks while grabbing his half filled coffee mug that sat near his computer.

“Riki said you needed to see me?” You said with an unsure tone. He didn’t seem like he needed to tell you anything. Did Riki lie to waste your time? “Uh… I don’t recall telling him anything about that?” He said also confused.

He definitely did lie.

“Oh, then that’s okay! I’ll see you tomorrow in English.” You waved goodbye as he did the same and went in for a sip of his now cold coffee. Today was just not his day.

STEP 6.

Riki sat on the bench, still dressed in his P.E. uniform. “What’s the point of wearing the uniform if you can’t even participate?” You teased as he rolled his eyes. “At least I still get marks for wearing it.” He retorted as you flipped him off and walked away.

You returned to the court, ready to play. Dodgeball was always a competitive game. Always having to dodge the balls that were thrown at you while trying to get others out added to the thrill of it all.

Your team members, Jake, Haerin, Sunoo, and Hyunjae and the opposing team members, Changmin, Chan, Eunchae, Heeseung, and Chaewon all stood on opposite sides of the court as everyone else stood on the perimeter of the court.

You all awaited for the blow of the whistle that commenced the game. As it blew, everyone ran to the middle, grasping a ball immediately. Some were thrown there and then while others ran back to their side of the court.

Riki watched from his spot on the bench in boredom. He focused more on the opposing team than he did with yours, finding theirs more amusing to watch. There were a few moments when he’d glance over at your team but it never lasted long.

You grinned in satisfaction at the sight of someone being hit by the ball you had thrown a second ago. He looked over at your team, catching a glimpse of your smile. He rarely saw you smile. Whenever he was around, you scowled.

However, something about this particular instance felt different. It was as if he saw you in a different light, finally seeing you without that angry face you’d make at him all the time. Seeing such a brief moment of your smile, made him feel…wait, what is he saying?

Side tracked from his thoughts, he notices Chan sitting beside him, a clear sign he had been eliminated from the game. “Why are you looking at her like that?” He asked as Riki immediately averted his eyes to the floor.

“Who?” Riki asked in an attempt to act clueless. He was clearly flustered that Chan had caught him looking at you, who would’ve thought. “You were staring at Y/N with a weird gaze,” he explained as Riki laughed nervously.

“Actually, I was staring at a bug that happened to be flying around her.” Riki explained in return, hoping Chan would buy it.

“Where is it?” Chan said in disgust. They both hated insects anyway. “Well, um, it flew away. Yeah…” He said as Chan nodded. Maybe he was seeing things.

“So, how is the training going?” Chan asked while looking at Riki. “It’s not bad, really, I think you two will be ready to practice with each other by next week.” He said as Chan grimaced. Right, the duo dance.

Before he could respond, you appeared before them. You stared at them with a blank look, you were spaced out. The boy who sat beside Riki looked quite familiar but you weren’t able to pinpoint where you had seen him.

“I’ll see you later,” Chan said to Riki while rising from his seat. “Is class over?” He asked you as you nodded to leave, not sparing you a glance. “Who was that?” You asked as he looked at you in disbelief. “That’s Chan, the boy you’ll be working with.” He explained as you nodded in realization.

Now you were able to pinpoint where you had seen him; during the big news at practice. He was the boy who looked at you with many emotions through one single glare.

He didn’t seem to like you at all. How were you supposed to do a duo dance with him if you two couldn’t even get along? You sighed and walked off to the changing rooms to prepare for your next class.

Riki, on the other hand, still questioned what happened earlier. What was he thinking about after he saw your smile? Why did that happen?

“You haven’t changed yet?” Your voice echoed through the silent gym as he looked over at you, startled. “Oh yeah, let me go do that. For now, start practicing? I don’t know.” and rushed over to the boys’ change rooms to change.

You watched as he hopped away in confusion. He was acting more differently than before but you weren’t sure why.

Instead of thinking even longer, you decided to go start with your stretching routines so you were ready before he returned.

While finishing up with your final stretch, the sound of crutches approached you, causing you to look up.

“Okay, let’s work on the last solo dance today and practice the first one.” He said while walking right past you. He didn’t even spare you a glance. You nodded at his words as he took a seat in the same spot as usual and got straight to work.

As you danced, he evaluated your moves. Your phone was set below his feet against the stage’s foundation, recording your moves.

During this moment, he took time to steal a few glances at you while using the excuse of evaluating you.

He was impressed. It had only been a few days, almost 2 weeks since you guys started practicing the first solo and you already got it down during that time being.

Once you were done, you walked over to your phone and crouched down to stop the video recording. He didn’t realize it until you stood back up that you were really close.

You watched the video with a slight smile on your face, not moving from where you were which only made Riki’s heart race even more.

But why?

STEP 7.

It hasn’t been long since Riki claimed that he hated your guts. During his moments of bothering you, he felt joy. But he was unsure why. Was it because he got the chance to annoy you or to speak with you? It confused him.

As time went on, the two of you began bickering less. It hadn’t come to a full stop but occurred ever so often. During those quiet moments, he was able to see more of your personality, even from afar.

You weren’t that bad of a person he thought you were. Forget about those times where he had insulted your skills and capability of participating in the competition. You were way more prepared than other team members and he was sure of it.

It’s not that he didn’t feel bad for his previous remarks, yet there was still a lingering feeling where he wondered why he uttered such hateful comments.

“Mr. Crutches, stay focused.” You said while tapping his worksheet with your pencil. “I get that you may not want to be paired up with me because I don’t either but we still need to pass this class.” You flipped through the stapled pages while releasing a hefty sigh.

His eyes looked at you then down to the booklet in front of him titled in bolded letters, “ROMEO AND JULIET (THE SCRIPT)”. Mr. Sunwoo seemed to be a sucker for romance. He was always speaking about plays even if they had a teeny tiny bit of romance.

You glanced at Riki who looked down at his script. Your desks were situated in front of each other which only made things even more awkward. Holding eye contact was not his best forte. You’d be lying if you said he wasn’t attractive at all. If only he kept his mouth shut, maybe you would’ve developed a crush on him a long time ago.

The longer you stared at him, you were able to notice more of his features. His lashes weren’t long but if you looked at them for a while, you could pick up on the separated lashes. His nose bridge was proportioned almost perfectly as well as his lips.

“Why are you staring at my lips?” He asked as you looked into his eyes in shock. “What are you talking about?” You asked instead of answering him. “If you like them that bad, just say that. I get that almost everything about me is perfect. For example, my dancing, mindset, friendliness, confidence, me looking great everyday—”

“Okay. Can we focus again?” You asked, interrupting his non stop complimenting. “I wasn’t finished though.” He frowned, leaving you to roll your eyes. “Save that for another time. We have to present this section to the class and attend practice right after.” You explained, avoiding eye contact with the boy.

“It’s a team practice and with your history of being late, I’m sure Soobin wouldn’t care.” You raised your hand in a punching motion at his words. “If we weren’t in class right now, I would’ve actually done it.” You said as he chuckled.

“Sure.” He teased. In return, you harshly flipped to the next page in your booklet, startling him in return. You were quite the scary type.

Unlike Riki’s words from English class, you arrived to practice on time. The only thing that was different from the usual setting was the quiet and dark atmosphere. At first, you thought you were late but that turned out to not be the case.

As your eyes adjusted to the dark gymnasium, you were finally able to spot something in the distance. “Where is everybody?” You asked the figure that stood far away from you. Their back faced you as they shrugged at your question.

In any horror movie, the main character would be cautious in situations like this but you weren’t. You were genuinely curious as to where everyone was and with the urge to find out, you approached the figure.

“Are we too early?” You asked. It was a quick assumption to think they were on the dance team and not something else, for example, the Badminton team. You were now standing behind them as they began to turn around. “I doubt—”

“What the hell are you doing here?” His sudden harsh and annoyed tone caught you off guard as the lights suddenly flicked on. “Amazing timing!” A voice exclaimed from the entrance. You both looked over at the boy in crutches with a confused but annoyed face—for two different reasons.

Of course, you were both confused on why the lights were off in the first place but Chan was annoyed with the fact that you were standing right in front of him while you were annoyed by the sight of the boy walking towards you two.

“Where is everyone?” Chan asked while pushing past you. You looked at him in shock but he still didn’t apologize. “Enough questions, we have work to do.” Riki said while hopping over to the stage.

“Work? What work?” Chan asked as you both looked over to Riki. “The duo dance… Did you really forget?” Riki reminded Chan, causing his brows to furrow. “You mean I have to do the duo dance with… her?” He pointed at you and whispered the last part but it clearly wasn’t quiet enough.

“Hello? I’m literally standing right here.” You said as he waved his hand in your direction as a way to shrug you off. “Enough of that. You expect me to dance with her? Why not Chaeryeong or Haerin? I’ll accept anything else at this rate.” You scoffed at his words and walked over to the sidelines.

“You’re like Riki but worse.” You insulted while slipping off your backpack. Riki whipped his head in your direction in confusion. “As if you’re any better,” Chan mumbled. Your words didn’t have an effect on him like you thought they would. He would love to be compared to his best friend.

Although he knew how Riki could be towards others, it didn’t bother him. “Moving on…” Riki said in an attempt to clear the awkward air. Something you didn’t understand about Chan was why he had something against you even though the two of you never spoke.

Only a few days ago, you found out about his name. You share P.E. with him and Riki this semester but even then you weren’t able to figure out his name until now.

“Listen, if you two are going to argue like this, clearly practicing won’t work. So… I have an even better idea!” He cheered while grabbing his crutches once again. The little amount of movement he did made you both realize he had never sat down in the first place. “That’s why I’m leaving you two to practice on your own. If Y/N and I could do it then you can too.” He said, ready to walk (more so hop) away using his crutches.

“Aren’t you the same person who told me not to build a relationship with Chan?” You asked the boy who froze in his spot. “Forget about that and just focus on the dance please. There’s only 2 months left.” He explained. “But where are you going?” Chan asked Riki.

“Monthly doctor’s appointment. Wish me luck,” he mumbled and left. There you were, both you and Chan looking at each other with a present scowl on each of your faces. He looked like he didn’t want to be near you at all and you were glad you could say the same.

It was like the situation with Riki all over again. Although the two of you were slightly starting to get along now (a few insults were still thrown into the conversations between you two but other than that it wasn’t so bad), it took a lot of bickering and eyerolls to get there.

“As much as I don’t want to dance with you, we have 2 weeks to practice. Don’t fall behind,” he said while walking over to his phone then back to you. You mimicked his words to yourself as he pulled up the dance video from his perspective.

You were now able to see his face more clearly than the video taken on Riki’s phone. Once the video ended, he pulled his phone back while placing it on the ground. “Sadly, I have to teach you this dance, alone.” He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his sweats.

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s just get this over with.” You said while walking away to begin your stretching. “Till this day I wonder how Riki tolerated you while practicing.” He mumbled and walked away to begin his own stretches.

Real question was, how were you supposed to tolerate each other for 2-3 weeks?

STEP 8.

Forget what you said earlier about Biology becoming your most hated subject. It was like your teacher, Mrs. Jihyo knew what you loved most—nature. Her announcement gained many different reactions from the students around you, especially Riki.

His jaw dropped with a very disgusted expression present across his features. The thought of being out in nature for longer than 10 minutes gave him chills.

“What’s wrong with you?” You asked the stiffened boy beside you. “What? Nothing.” He said, shaking off the jitters from earlier. There’s no way he’d make it obvious that he was afraid of insects to you.

You hummed teasingly as he softly nudged you in the shoulder. “You’re way scarier than nature anyway.” He insulted you, making you glare directly at him. Suddenly, your gaze softened as your eyes lit up at the memory. “Oh right, I just remembered. Why did you tell me that Mr. Sunwoo wanted to see me although he never said that?” You asked as his brows furrowed.

Trying to recall the moment, he tilted his head side to side. “I don’t recall doing so?” He lied. What was he supposed to say if he didn’t know why he did that in the first place? “Oh, okay. I was just wondering.” You said and directed your attention back to Mrs. Jihyo.

Why did he feel guilty? You didn’t seem to be hurt by his comment but still it felt terrible lying. He’s done it before in other situations but this one made him feel most guilty for what reason? Whatever he felt when he was around you was a feeling he hated.

It was almost like he went to sleep with a burning hatred for you and woke up with…feelings? As much as he wanted to refuse this thought, there was still a possibility.

“Riki and Y/N? You two will be partners for the walk. Y/N, stay with him so he doesn’t fall behind, no offense, Riki.” Mrs. Jihyo said, pulling Riki from his thoughts. His eyes slightly widened after taking in her words. The two of you would most likely be alone for the next hour in nature. Could his situation get any worse?

You stifled a laugh at Mrs. Jihyo's unintentional insult. “Alright everyone, let’s get moving!” She exclaimed with a bright smile as everyone followed through. “Dude, pay attention.” You shook his shoulder, bringing him back to reality. “Oh right.” He mumbled and grabbed his crutches as you began walking away.

He inhaled deeply in preparation for what torture he would have to go through.

One step outside was already enough to tell Riki that this trip would be terrible. It was humid and slightly muddy from the previous rain storm a few days ago.

The group of students were quite far from you both. You had a silly smile on your face as you looked around, examining every detail of the scenery. Riki, on the other hand, struggle with dodging any crawling insects that approached his shoes.

He held back the multiple screams he needed to release so badly but refrained from doing so. It would’ve been embarrassing.

“I love nature.” You said with a relaxed sigh. “You what?” His voice was slightly shaky as he continued swatting at mosquitoes that flew within his vicinity. “It’s a relaxing place to be. It helps clear my head whenever I’m worried or stressed about something.” You explained as he stopped moving in disbelief.

“So you’re telling me, you find an environment invested with feces and disgusting insects relaxing?” You turned around at his voice and nodded your head. “It’s not that bad.” You defended. “How?” He asked while catching up to your spot away from him. You two walked alongside each other, him hopping on his crutches but still managed to stay neck-and-neck with you.

“It’s similar to dancing—well, that’s how I view it.” You started, a smile slowly making its way on your face. He looked at you, intrigued by what else you had to say. “For example, the trees. When it’s really windy outside, they sway in sync, right?” You used your hands to emphasize your words as he nodded.

“That’s similar to, I don’t know, dancing as a group?” You said as he nodded once more. From his perspective, you looked like a child explaining their favourite game or toy. The corner of his lips turned up slightly which he was unaware of.

Your smile was contagious. Eventually the subtle upturned smile he wore before grew into an even bigger one. You continuously boasted about your love for nature and how similar it was to dancing while he watched with a gaze everyone but him could specify.

Next thing he knew, you both were standing in front of the group of students led by Mrs. Jihyo. His smile dropped the moment his eyes landed on the familiar faces as a light shade of pink covered the tips of his ears. Hopefully, nobody caught him smiling like a dork.

STEP 9.

It’s been a few days—almost a week since you and Chan began practicing with each other. At the start, you despised each other, and with every meeting, your hatred for him grew stronger. He would continuously belittle every move you made during practice with him, making his presence unbearable. He was even worse than Riki, whether you wanted to believe it or not. But now, that anger is fading away, and he seems a bit more likable.

It was 7:20 AM, 30 minutes before the team practice. You and Chan both came to an agreement to meet an hour to a few minutes earlier to perfect what parts needed perfecting.

“Let’s take 5. By that, I mean let’s rewatch the practice video.” He suggested as he walked over to stop the phone from recording while you went to grab more water.

“Here,” you handed him his water bottle as he accepted it with a smile. Out of breath and tired, you both took a seat on the cold polished gymnasium floors. The lights were dimmed with the cloudy sky darkening the room even more.

The two of you pointed out little details that could be changed or worked on, taking turns each time.

Riki didn’t know what to do. He was very early for practice and doubted that the doors would be unlocked anyway. Hopping over to the doors, he tested if the door was unlocked by pulling the knob lightly. There was no jammed noise and instead it clicked open quietly.

About to walk in and head over to his designated spot, he paused. His eyes squinted in an attempt to make out the figures— you and Chan.

It was understandable since you were both practicing for the competition anyway but the way Chan looked at you as you spoke and the way you laughed at whatever words he said made his heart pang from what could possibly be jealousy. His best friend who originally hated your guts because he felt as though you robbed him of his biggest opportunity now smiling while staring directly into your eyes? How else was he supposed to feel?

Instead of walking further inside he left. He shut the doors softly and took a seat on the nearest park bench and thought of the quickest excuse to tell Soobin once he arrived.

The only thing that made whatever he felt feel worse was his confusion. He still was unsure why he felt this away around you and what he felt when he was around you. And the question that bothered him most, did you feel the same way around him?

“Riki? I didn’t know you were here this early! What happened to you not being able to wake up around times like this?” A familiar voice spoke a few steps away from him. He looked up from his fiddling fingers and was met with a sight he went head over heels for.

You were smiling at him, shocked but happy. “Oh hey.” He greeted, putting on his most convincing smile. “Chan’s here as well if you wanted to say hi. I mean, you’re best friends after all right?” You teased and walked towards the water fountain. You filled up your empty bottle, still on your break time as Riki watched.

You were so concentrated on filling up your empty bottle without creating any spills, yet you looked so beautiful, causing a small swarm of butterflies to form within him. Seriously, what was this feeling?

“You should come watch us practice.” You suggested, breaking the silence between you two. “I’m practically done learning the dance, it’s been at least a week. There was a lot of dedication.” You explained as he hummed. He found you very impressive and he meant it everytime.

“So,” you turned around with a full water bottle in your hand, “Are you coming? Team practice is in a few anyway.” You said. He pondered for a moment but eventually gave in. He trailed behind you as you held the door open for him to enter. Chan turned around at the sound of your return, eyes landing on Riki. “Riki, hey!” Chan cheered while rising from his spot on the ground and walking over to you both.

“Practice starts in about 10 minutes. Spare us 4 minutes to show you the dance?” Chan asked as you nudged his arm. “He already agreed to watch. There’s no time to waste.” You said while setting up the music.

Riki sat in silence while watching you both perform the dance he and Chan choreographed together. If he was being honest, you and Chan danced great together. There was definitely chemistry between you two. He was jealous but still watched with open eyes to spot any subtle mistakes.

He couldn’t help but keep his gaze set on you. He glanced at Chan whenever he got the chance but they never lasted long. Seeing you two slightly smile at each other, compliment each other’s dancing, and do so many more things that he and Chan were supposed to do only fueled his jealousy even more.

But what was he jealous about? The fact that Chan had gotten close to you and shared smiles with you or the fact that you got the chance to dance with Chan on one of the biggest stages to the dance that they both choreographed together? It was confusing.

The doors opened as all your heads turned to face the entrance. “Oh, you guys are early.” Soobin said while placing his bag on the ground. “Chan and Y/N, did you finish learning the duo dance?” Soobin asked the two as you nodded in sync.

“Okay that’s great. Rest for a week or perfect your previous dances, anything works. After that, we will work on the group dance. The final project before we put everything together.” Soobin explained as everyone nodded. “1 month left,” Jisung muttered to Chan who stood beside him.

“It felt like we just found out about Riki’s replacement just yesterday.” Chan said as Jisung agreed. “You guys are so extra,” Changmin said with a sigh. “Goodluck on practice, I’m heading to the store nearby. I haven’t eaten anything and I’m starving.” Changmin said while grabbing backpack and leaving the gymnasium.

Jisung and Chan chuckled at his sudden appearance and walked over to Riki who sat on the edge of the stage as always.

“So…? When are you getting your cast removed?” Jisung asked, gaining Riki’s attention. “Not sure. He hasn’t given me a date yet,” He responded dryly. “You know, Y/N isn’t that bad of a person. I guess I was just being selfish.” He said while smiling softly at the memories from the past few days.

“Really? I figured.” Riki said while reaching for his water bottle in his backpack. He was acting drier than usual but Chan and Jisung didn’t bother asking why. Instead, they shared a confused look to each other and shrugged it off.

“Oh! Also, you know about the group dance? Who will be my partner now since it’s quite different from before.” Jisung asked while leaning on the edge of the stage. “Most likely Y/N. She’s replacing Riki’s spot anyway.” Chan responded as Riki nodded. “Either that or Soobin may change the setup.” Riki said, then took a sip from his water bottle.

“Ah, okay. I’ll see you guys later. I’m going to practice my parts.” He explained as he pushed himself up from the ledge. “Goodluck, don’t injure yourself like this guy.” Chan teased while pointing at Riki who glared at him as Jisung laughed. “Promised.” He said and began his stretches.

“I’m going to head to class,” Riki said while grabbing his backpack and crutches. “What? The bell doesn’t go till’ 15 minutes.” Chan said in confusion. “I have unfinished homework to complete.” He said and left the gymnasium without letting Chan respond. Weird.

He had no homework to complete but he couldn’t last in that gym any longer. It felt like the moment at the doctor’s office all over again and he hated it. He hated the suffocating feeling of jealousy but couldn’t say anything about it. Why? Because he didn’t want to lose his best friend.

STEP 10.

“What’s wrong?” His older sister said as she took a seat beside him. The comfort of the couch engulfed her figure as she held back a relieved sigh. “What do you mean?” He asked Konon as she scoffed. “You’ve been looking down ever since you arrived home. Is it because of the competition next month? I thought you accepted the truth last month…” She said as a frown appeared on her face.

“It’s not that.” He said while placing a pillow on top of his legs. “Then what is it?” She asked and turned to face him completely. He hesitated. “Riki, what is it? If it’s not something you want to tell me then that’s okay.” She reassured him as he sighed. “What does it feel like to have feelings for someone? Or a better way of putting this—What do I if I think I have feelings for someone?” He asked in embarrassment.

“You like someone?!” She exclaimed, shocked. “Shh, why are we yelling?!” He whisper-shouted and searched the living room for anybody but there was nothing. “Okay, maybe I do, but I’m not sure! That’s why I’m asking you for help.” He explained as she nodded in understanding.

“Okay… Let’s get straight to the point, was there ever a moment when you wanted to, you know, kiss her the moment you laid eyes on—” She asked as Riki rushed to cover her mouth. His head dropped low as his skin flushed a dark shade of red, earning a muffled laugh from his older sister.

“So it really happened. I was only kidding, Riki.” She teased as he removed his hand from her mouth. “Can’t believe my younger brother is in love…before me…” She said in disbelief. “Who’s the lucky person? Tell me more!” She sat up straight, more intrigued than ever.

“It’s someone on my dance team. She’s the one who replaced my spot in the competition so I’ve been teaching her the dances recently. But, we hated each other at the start.” He explained, leaving Konon to nod. “So, enemies to lovers basically?” She asked as he shrugged. “I guess, I don’t know. But ever since then, I mean you could say I fell for her? Believe what you want.” He said as Konon laughed.

“Okay… What’s holding you back from confessing?” She asked.

“My best friend.”

“Oh, well that’s new…” She awkwardly rubbed the nape of her neck unsure of what to say next. “Why’s that?” He looked at her then down at his hands. “I think he likes her? I’m not even sure if she likes me back in the first place. They seem way closer than we do.” He said a slight frown present on his face.

“Worst thing of it all, I don’t want to do anything that’ll make me lose my friend, you know?” He said and looked over at Konon. “No, I understand you completely.” She took his hands in hers. “I say… Confess. You never know how wrong that can go.” She suggested as Riki shook his head.

“It won’t end well, trust me. It’s fine, I’ll just push down these feelings until they’re gone.” He said while getting up from his seat. Konon grabbed his hand, pulling him back down into his seat. “How would you know that if you wouldn’t bother trying it out?” She asked as Riki looked at her in annoyance.

“It just won’t go well.” He said. “At least try?” She pleaded as he stared into her eyes. “No promises,” he said and grabbed his crutches to leave. At least she tried.

“Alright, the lineup is quite uneven.” Soobin said while pacing down the line of dancers. “Jisung, who was your partner previously?” Soobin questioned as Jisung pointed at Haerin. “Okay… Who doesn’t have a solo performance in this competition?” He asked. Yunjin raised up her hand, gaining his attention.

“Since the numbers are uneven, you can have a solo part in this. Technically you’ll be leading the group, kinda?” He shrugged as Yunjin smiled. She’d be noticed for a bit at least. “Then we’re all set!” He cheered with a clap. “Jisung and Y/N, you two can be partners. The rest stay the same.” Soobin instructed and walked over to the stereo, playing the song associated with this dance.

“Let’s get to work!” Soobin said as everyone nodded.

Jisung hasn’t seen you dance up-close before. Observing from afar, he noticed how Riki and Chan hated you at the beginning but now it was different. You all seemed like friends and to be honest he wanted to join in on the small group too but was too shy to communicate with you.

So, after hearing that he had a chance of being paired up with you he was thrilled. This could be his chance to finally communicate with you after chickening out everytime he built up the courage to.

You could say, he looked up to you a lot.

“Is this right?” You asked, bringing him back to reality. “Is what right?” He asked with a confused expression. You showed him your attempt of doing a certain move in the choreography. “Oh, yes that’s correct. If you can, you can try extending your arms a little more just for a bigger effect. Can I adjust one of them?” He asked, seeking permission first.

You nodded as he reached for your left arm, extending further. “There, much better.” He complimented. “Now try putting it all together.” He said and you did as told. He hummed in satisfaction and gave you a smile. “Here, take a break for now. You seem a little tired.” He suggested as you nodded. “Okay, tell me when you’re ready to continue.” Then you walked away to your backpack.

First of all, you were a very nice person. Very determined as well. This might be one of his favourite performances yet.

Riki sat on the floor, legs outstretched due to his cast. Watching you and Jisung train together only reminded him of the conversation with his older sister yesterday. Should he really tell you how he felt and face the chance of rejection or keep everything to himself and most likely watch you end up with Chan? He didn’t know which one to choose, they all sounded like terrible options and the outcomes didn’t make them any better.

To distract his mind, he pulled out unfinished work that he had to complete before his morning classes. It was a perfect distraction in his opinion. Chan was absent from school today which made his day survivable. Not that he didn’t like Chan anymore, he just couldn’t stand the sight of you and him smiling at each other left and right.

Reflecting on the conversation from yesterday, Riki was definitely jealous and definitely had feelings for you. There was no other way he didn’t. All the signs were obvious and explained why he felt like that whenever you were around him. Did it really take him that long to figure it out?

The snapping of his pencil pulled him out of his thoughts. The previously sharpened tip now shattered and jagged made him sigh. He didn’t have any spare ones on him nor did he have a pencil. Maybe finishing unfinished work wasn’t the best idea.

There was one month before the final competition and eventually that month became 2 weeks. He didn’t know how to feel. He was over the whole situation but he still felt worried. Worried for you and your performances. Were they going to go well or would they be a complete disaster?

He ran his fingers through his hair while letting out a heavy sigh. Maybe he should confess to get rid of part of his stressful thoughts, right?

“A penny for your thoughts?” Your voice suddenly came from out of nowhere as you took a seat beside him. He fought back the heat that rushed up to his face and dropped his hand into his lap.

“I’m fine,” He said, lying straight through his teeth. “Really? You looked like you were stressed out over something.” You brought your knees up to your chest with your arms. “Are you really, really, really sure?” You said while peering over at him.

“I’m fine, don’t worry. What about you?” He asked and looked at you. The two of you made eye contact for a few moments before you looked away and sighed. His gaze was too intense for you. During those few seconds, you could sense the sincerity behind his question.

You were really worried about your performances but tried to take your mind off of them many times. It was a big opportunity and you didn’t want to disappoint anyone.

“I’m just worried about the performances. Like, I don’t want to disappoint anyone especially you since, you know, you choreographed everything. It was also originally your spot which only makes me feel even worse if I mess it up.” You ranted as he listened.

“Don’t worry about me. You’re not upsetting anyone if you make one tiny mistake on stage. It’s the same as practicing. Is this your first performance?” He asked and you nodded. “Then don’t worry too much about it. Take it in as an experience.” He said, looking at you as you did the same.

“Break is over, let’s get back on track!” Soobin exclaimed as he walked back into the gymnasium—no one noticing that he left in the first place. You two stared in each other’s eyes for a brief moment before he ushered you to head back to the centre.

“Goodluck, I’ll be here if you need anything.” He said while giving you a slight smile. You smiled back at him and jogged over to the forming group of dancers.

It felt like he was forgetting something after you had left. It wasn’t until you began practicing with Jisung again when he remembered what he was supposed to say. His confession. He was so caught up in reassuring you that everything would be fine that he even forgot about the most important thing.

Seems like it’ll just have to wait.

He began packing up his belongings as you walked over to him. “It’s finally over. But there’s still rehearsals.” You whined and grabbed your backpack. You were tired of practicing to the same 4 songs for the past 3 months. You could most likely guess every single one of them by the first 0.1 second.

“You know what, let’s go somewhere.” You suggested as Riki looked up at you confused. “Like where?” He asked but you shrugged, unsure of where to go too. “Let’s just walk—or hop… and see whenever it takes us.” You said as he sent you a glare, causing you to laugh. “I didn’t mean it that way, I swear.” You defended.

You both followed random paths, majority of the time hoping you wouldn’t get lost. “Are you sure this is trustworthy?” He asked as you stopped in your tracks. “Honestly, I’ve never been down here but it’s cool.” You said while looking at the small river nearby. “Look!” You pointed at the stream of water.

“Doesn’t it have a nice flow?” You asked as you both walked over to it. “Yeah, I guess.” His disgust for nature was slowly going away the more you forced him outside. You looked over at him as he looked back in confusion. You seemed like you had something to say but judging by the scenery he already knew what it was.

“It reminds you of dancing, doesn’t it?” He asked, causing you to crack a smile and nod. “You know me so well,” you stood up from your spot on the grassy floor and dusted off your pants for any excess grass.

“Okay. What now?” You asked the boy behind you. He shrugged, “I don’t know.” He said. “Yeah, I don’t have anything either. What time is it?” You asked and he shrugged once more. “My phone’s dead in my backpack.” He said. “Yeah, mine too…Okay, let’s pray that we get home safely.” You said, all hope gone from your body.

You walked past him as he fought back the urge to stop you but failed miserably. “Wait,” he called, hand holding your wrist. “What?” You asked as he avoided eye contact with you. Silence fell between you both as he hesitated uttering the words he’s been waiting to say for the past week only to have to wait longer once they didn’t come out.

“Nevermind, it’s nothing.” He said while softly letting go of your wrist. “Oh okay, then let’s go.” You mumbled, trying to clear the awkward atmosphere. Half of you wished what he stopped you for was what you thought it was—a confession. But to your dismay, it ended up being nothing.

The walk back wasn’t any better. It was filled with silence as you both thought back to the supposed conversation from earlier. His thoughts were filled with him confessing while your’s were filled with different thoughts. If he confessed, would anything good happen? And did he even like you the same way you liked him?

STEP 11.

Today was the day you’ve been worried about. It was finally D-Day. To be honest, it felt like you and Riki hated each other’s guts a day ago but now that you got along you weren’t sure how to feel. One thing you were sure about were your feelings for him.

You always tried to make it less obvious in case he didn’t feel the same way to save yourself the embarrassment and always covered it up with silly remarks. Ones that you didn’t mean after your so-called enemies arc.

You wiped your sweaty hands on your pants out of nervousness. The crowd was huge, that’s for sure. One peek through those curtains was enough to spot around 400 people.

“You’ll be fine, I swear.” Riki said while using his crutches to get to you. “There’s so many people out there, are you sure we’re seeing the same venue?” You said anxiously while reaching for the dark red curtains once more. “Yes but looking outside will only make things even more nerve wracking.” He said while using one hand to close the curtains before you could fully open them.

“I don’t get how you’ve done this many times.” You said as he laughed at your words. “I’m not sure either.” He said, laughter dying down. “Here,” he let go of his crutches and placed both of his hands on your shoulders to direct you to the nearest chair. “Take a seat for now to calm down. You’ll do perfect during your first two solo performances. The other two are with other team members so you’re not alone.” He reassured you.

He struggled to balance on his non-injured foot and you took notice of it. “Don’t let go of your crutches before you end up falling to your death,” you scolded while picking them up off the ground and heading them to him. “Right,” he said, taking note of your words.

He looked at the time on the clock that hung above you. “You’re on in 5 minutes. I’ll be backstage in the meantime cheering you on, okay?” He asked as you nodded. The thought of having to go on stage under 5 minutes was terrible. You watched Riki exit the stage, heading through the doors that led backstage and exhaled a shaky breath.

“Are you nervous?” The voice from the boy in front of you asked. “Pretty much yeah.” You bounced your leg anxiously as Chan chuckled. “You’ll be fine. I overheard your’s and Riki’s conversation a bit and he’s right. You’ll do great during your solo performances.” He said and you smiled slightly.

“Thank you, I—”

“On call, the first performance starts in 3 minutes.” A member of the stage crew said. “That’s you,” he said and gave you a pat on the shoulder. “I’ll see you for our performance, goodluck.” He waved goodbye and you did the same.

Everything went well during rehearsals but you were still nervous. You were now performing to a way bigger group of people than before. There being recruiters who would evaluate your performances as well only added to your nervousness.

You sat there overthinking for too long judging by how fast those 3 minutes went by. Next thing you know, you were standing on stage as everyone in the crowd awaited the start of your performance.

All you had to do was leave everyone satisfied and impressed. And so you did. Although it wasn’t as good as other contestants, you were still glad you were placed on the podium for solo dances.

You were thankful for the silver medal that hung around your neck. You ran over to backstage, 30 minutes left to spare before the duo dances began. Riki sat on one of the seats near the monitor that showcased all the dances on stage. He had a dorky smile on his face. One that you mirrored as you ran over to him in joy and pulled him into a hug immediately.

Once you let go of him, you held the medal higher for him to get a closer look. “I saw it, I watched the whole thing.” He said with a proud smile. Although you had only 3 months to learn all of the dance moves to these 4 songs, you learned them perfectly. There wasn’t one mistake he could spot on the monitor when watching you. Were you always this good at everything?

Seeing you in the medal that he previously claimed to be his while showcasing your beautiful smile was enough to set him off the edge. But this time, there wasn’t a feeling of anger nor jealousy. He’s not sure what came over him and made him feel any of these feelings but next thing you know, you felt his lips on yours, leaving you both in shock.

You both pulled away from each other, eyes wide. “Wait, I’m sorry for that.” He apologized immediately, embarrassment fueling his body. You cupped his face or cheeks with your hands as he looked back up at you.

You searched his eyes for any signs of regret from his previous action but there was nothing. Instead, his eyes glanced down at your lips for a brief moment yet you still caught it and smiled. With no more time to waste, you immediately pressed your lips against his once more.

If this was what he’s been imagining for everytime he saw you, he sure didn’t blame himself. Although there was no verbal confession between you two, the act of a kiss spoke more than you two ever could.

But not for all.

Too focused on what was going on between the two of you made you both unaware of the boy who stood at the entrance. All he wanted was to tell you congratulations on the medal you had earned, not you earning your first kiss with his best friend—the boy you probably had feelings for.

With 20 minutes left to spare before his performance with you, he walked away from the doors, heading towards the nearest window for fresh air. All he had to do was pull himself together to be able to face you again. That wouldn’t be so hard on his part. Although he felt terrible from what he’s seen, he knew there was never a chance of you liking him back.

For most of his time knowing you, he was mean and ignorant. You two only became ‘friends’ recently but he still doesn’t know why he fell for you so fast. It was odd. But still, he’s happy for his friend. From the looks of it, he seemed to be head over heels for you since that day in P.E. class.

It was quite obvious but he only played along instead of embarrassing him further.

You and Riki pulled away from each other silly smiles plastered on both of your faces. “You know… Do I still have to verbally confess my feelings to you even after that?” He asked as you laughed. “I guess not unless you really want to. But also, you should really start a habit of using some sort of lip balm or something.” You teased as his hand flew up to his lips in a haste.

You let out a laugh at his reaction and let go of the sides of his face. “I was only kidding, don’t worry.” You said as he rolled his eyes. “I was going to do a silly pickup line on you but I don’t think you deserve that anymore.” He said while taking a seat on the nearest chair.

“Wait, now I’m curious. What was it?” You asked but he shook his head and refused to respond. “No, honestly. I was only kidding, I swear!” You pleaded as he sighed. “I guess you deserve to hear it,” he started as you became intrigued.

He pointed at your medal as you looked down at it then back at him in confusion. “Notice how you got a 2nd place medal? That’s because I’m the one for you.” He said and you looked at him in disgust.

That’s what you begged for? He stared back at you, no embarrassment shown. How was that even possible after saying an atrocious sentence like that one?

“If you just asked me out I hope you know I’m planning on saying no.” You said as terror appeared on his face. “Oh come on, that was a good pickup line! I thought about it once you received your medal, see I’m a really creative person.” He complimented himself, causing you to fake gag.

“Creative where? That was traumatizing. Never do that again please.” You said as he scoffed. “As if you could do any better,” he said while crossing his arms. “Let’s not go back to that arc, it wasn’t our best one to be honest.” You suggested with a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh right. I forgot all about that.” He said and laughed awkwardly. “Anyways, I’m sure you have to go soon, right? At least 15 minutes passed with us talking, and well, you know.” He said, becoming slightly embarrassed and flustered at the memory. “You’re cute and yet so childish,” you teased with a smile.

“Am not?!” He argued.

“You quite literally are…Did you not hear the ‘pickup’ line you told me a few moments ago?” You said in disbelief.

“Hey, in my defense I warned you before I even said it.” He said as you nodded in a teasing way. “Yeah, yeah, okay.” You patted him on the shoulder, showing him that you ‘believed’ him even if he did warn you. Teasing him was quite fun.

“On call, duo performances start in 5.” The same member in the stage crew from earlier said. “Oh well, I’ll see you later.” You told him and waved goodbye. He smiled and wished you good luck while waving goodbye all at the same time.

Although it took quite a while, it was all worth confirming his feelings in the end. If there was something he learned during these three months, it was definitely these new feelings and his love for you and only you.

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sxcretricciardo · 1 month

Text

YOU

Y/N and Daniel have been dating for a while now and have been active quite a lot on social media.

yourusername: texas type of couple 🤠

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username1: omg I CANT THE CUTEST COUPLE

landonorris: ew

↳ yourusername: respect your elders 🥸

↳ landonorris: you're only three years older than me

↳ yourusername: respect your elder danielricciardo

↳ danielricciardo: you guys are annoying

↳ yourusername: you age like fine wine my love 🍷

danielricciardo: breaking the summer in Spain ☀️

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yourusername: I look like a fish 🐠

↳ maxverstappen1: you look like an old couple

↳ yourusername: you got jokes, I'm impressed 🫢

↳ landonorris: I'm impressed you didn't drown

↳ yourusername: you're so annoying, get a girlfriend

carlossainz55: it was great having you guys here ☺️

↳ yourusername: gracias amiguito 😎

↳ danielricciardo: you're taking the duolingo lessons way to serious 🐥

↳ yourusername: te amo

↳ danielricciardo: te amo you too

yourusername: we’re cooking something special 👀

view more comments

charles_leclerc: what about me?

↳ yourusername: sorry perceval, I’ll have you on my next song 💕

username2: OMG I CAN’T WAIT

username3: DANIEL SINGING IS GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME

carmenmmundt: so cute!! I love u guys <3

username4: I can't wait to hear this song!!!!

yourusername: this one is my favorite one yet! Thank you for stepping outside your comfort zone danielricciardo. I know this isn't a F1 track, but you were a champion nonetheless! Stream "You" on all platforms and watch our music video on youtube :)

view more comments

danielricciardo: I think we did a great job sweets, thank you for this opportunity :)

charles_lecrelc: this is actually really good!

↳ yourusername: you sound surprised

maxverstappen1: I admit that me and Kelly have been listening to this nonstop :p

↳ yourusername: my biggest fans 💕

↳ maxverstappen1: get me some tickets when you go on tour

↳ yourusername: front row <3

landonorris: I want this to play on my wedding

↳ yourusername: first you would need someone to like you 💀

↳ landonorris: everyone loves me

↳ yourusername: heartbreaker 💔

username1: THIS IS SO GOOD OMG

#Spotify #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris #max verstappen x reader #carlos sainz #insta au #f1 au #max verstappen #lewis hamilton #charles leclerc

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macfrog · 9 months

Text

if i had a gun cowboy like me chapter 12.5 (joel's pov)

long-awaited, pain-packed, and sealed with a bow by yours truly. i love y'all. thank you for being so patient and kind with me on this one. this chapter is joel's experience of the end of illicit affairs and all of hits different. you might wanna check those chapters out before you indulge in the angst-fest that is this one. hope you enjoy 🧡

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: walk a mile in joel miller's shoes. see if you'd do anything different

warnings: more heartache, more angst, lois, alcohol + drug consumption, mention of reader being roofied, very brief mention of joel punching knox, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing

word count: 9.8k

terrible news! there is no more taglist! make sure you're following @macfroglets w notifs on if you wanna be buzzed when i post 🤍

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

“Right. Sorry. It’s just…we kinda have a…situation, here.” It’s you. He fucking knows it’s you. His heart begins to hammer. He doesn’t give a fuck whether she puts two and two together or not when he asks – “Where is she?” “We’re still at Frank’s,” Anna says, sniffing. He can hear the booming bassline of music, muffled; the sharper chatter of voices. She’s on the street. In his head, he can see her shoulders hunched; her bare arms wrapped around her body for warmth. She goes to say it again. “We’re still at –” “’n where is she?” Joel cuts, and she finally cracks.

You’re still fast asleep when he lifts his head.

You’ve had this argument plenty before. I do not snore. Yes, baby, you do. I’ve heard you. I don’t! It’s alright, it’s okay that you do. It’s a cute snore. Joel, I don’t fucking –

Right now, he’s pretty certain you’re snoring. He just wishes you were awake to hear yourself.

He thinks about pulling his phone, taking a video so that once you’re up, you can hear the little bursts of air, the tiny rasps from your nostrils as you snooze. But if he ever did record anything like that – just like the Hillcrest pictures, until you’d found them last night – he’d keep it for himself. Wouldn’t offer it up so easily.

Just something for him to have, for all the time he spends without you.

Your hair’s still all over the place. Tangled in Joel’s right arm, still smelling of chlorine and sex. Your head rests softly on the crook of his elbow like it’s a pillow; your lips and eyes are puffy, tired. You have this ridiculously strong vice grip on his left arm; during the night he felt you wrap your wrists around it and pull it into your chest, tucking it gently under your chin until your entire upper half was drowned in his.

His chest snug against your back, his arms encasing you safely, and his hips…his hips lined with yours. His now semi-hard cock buried between your legs – he’d slept inside you last night, and it was like, after forty-eight years, someone finally took him by the shoulders and said: This is how you do it. This is how you rest.

He was out as soon as his head hit the pillow, soon as his eyes fell shut. He stirred only to feel you maneuvering his arm, and then fell straight back asleep.

He felt comfortable. He felt safe. Big, old, tough guy Joel Miller. Never let anybody in since Sarah’s mom left. Alone for almost seventeen years, and fine with it. His cheeks heat at the idea of needing – of wanting to feel that. Safe. But then you came along, and he realized he’d been waiting his whole life to feel it. Didn’t even notice he’d been missing it.

That’s how these things go, right? Can’t miss what you don’t have, and all that.

But now he has it. Now he has you.

And you make him feel things he’s never felt before, or if he has, it was so fucking long ago that he’s forgotten. You drive him fucking insane. Keep him up at night, wondering what the hell he’s gotten himself into. Make him do stuff that his reflection glares at him over. Are you being serious right now? Make him…different. New.

The night before last, when he’d picked you up from Frank’s after rodeo night, he promised to make you a big breakfast in the morning. Compensation for not swinging by McDonald’s on the way home. But then your dad called, and you had to take off before Joel had even properly woken up.

When he eventually rose from the bed, he went straight to the store. Stocked up on eggs, flour, sugar, bananas. He’d printed a recipe from his computer while you were gone. Marked the items off as he meandered through the store. Stood for ten minutes deliberating over which gluten-free flour would be best, before an assistant asked if he needed any help.

I’m good, he muttered, and then, as the kid wandered off, cleared his throat and said, Actually –

Greg – the kid assistant in question – had suggested the red bag. Said it’s corn flour, instead of wheat. Joel can’t pronounce the brand name. He just knows it’s tucked behind a box of cereal in the cupboard downstairs – he hid it there so you wouldn’t find it and snuff out his plan.

His plan, which he now has to put into action. Without waking you. He’d lie here forever just staring at you, if he hadn’t sworn to himself to make good on his promise and cook you some damn pancakes.

So he slowly pulls his left hand from between yours, loosening your death grip, and steals it back across your waist. He does the same for his right arm – more careful, though, so he doesn’t tug on your hair. Like some kind of wild cat creeping through the jungle, every moment calculated and careful.

He bunches the comforter up a little at your back, so that if you do stir, it might feel like he’s still there. Still a weight, curving around you. He takes a good five minutes just to travel the length of the room – the lightest he’s ever walked, dodging the spots on the carpet that he knows make the floorboards squeal.

When the door gently clicks back into place, he heads downstairs. Cracks out his frying pan – non-stick, obviously – and all his ingredients, pulls the printed recipe from its hiding place between two cookbooks and lays it out on the counter, flattening the creases and unfolding the corners. And gets to it.

His first egg cracks messily over the lip of the bowl. The yolk runs down the outside, and he curses before swiping it back up with his index finger. The second egg empties fully inside the bowl, but drags with it tiny fragments of shell. Joel spends five minutes focusing on picking every single piece out of the mixture. He crouches to make sure he’s poured the exact amount of milk, eyes level with the top of the liquid, and he double checks every step before he follows it.

This has to be perfect. Has to be. For you.

The entire time, all he can think about is you asking to sleep with his body inside yours. Wanting him closer than you’d ever wanted him before, as close as he could physically be. Your sleepy voice circles between his ears on loop – want somethin’ else. That safe feeling creeps up on him all over again.

He knows he shouldn’t. He can’t. He’s spent the last month purposefully pushing those feelings down, dampening them anytime they rose to the surface. Only allowing himself to feel them, to acknowledge them, when you’re around. Because he can’t fucking help but acknowledge them when you’re here – they stare him straight in the face.

So he’d been making peace with letting the floodgates open just a little bit at a time – one quick rush whenever you’d give him one of your meaningful glances, when your hot skin would brush against his, when your mouth would fall open at the feeling of his first deep thrust inside you.

And then he’d bolt them back up.

Except that, now…he’s not sure the dam can hold much longer. There are cracks he’s not repairing quickly enough. Unintended consequences hammering against the other side of the stone in the form of angry white waves.

He’s staring at the beige circle of batter in the pan, swept off with the waves into someplace far from his kitchen, when the sound of your voice draws him back.

“Joel? You down there?”

The floorboards at the top of his stairs creak. You’re leaning over the banister.

“Yeah, darlin’, I’m here.” He slips halfway out of the kitchen door, closing it over his body in hopes you won’t smell the pancakes. You ask what he’s doing, and he says, “Just makin’ a coffee. You want anything brought up?”

“I’m good,” you reply. “’m gonna take a shower.”

“Alright, baby. There’s probably some stuff in Sarah’s bathroom you can use.”

He listens closely as your footsteps recede, waiting to hear the hum of his shower before he relaxes again, flipping the pancake over. It sizzles away as he runs one thick finger along the inside of the bowl and tastes his handiwork. Pretty damn good, he thinks. He’s sucking his finger clean when his cell goes.

Joel swipes to answer, and before he can utter a Hello?, your dad’s voice is screaming down the line to him.

“Mornin’, pal! You in? You up?”

He figures this is the infamous speakerphone you rambled for ten minutes about last night. Like a fucking foghorn, man. I’m deaf in this ear now.

He doesn’t wait for Joel to respond. “I was just passin’ by, remembered you got that leakin’ pipe, or whatever it is. Under your sink, right? You good for me to drop in ‘n take a look?”

“Uh – uh, I’m –” Joel stammers his way through a sentence he doesn’t know the ending of, slotting the phone between his cheek and his shoulder and giving the pan a rattle against the stovetop. He slips the spatula under the mixture, and when he flips it over, the pancake is charcoal black. “Fuck.”

“What’s that?” you dad roars, deafening in Joel’s ear. Fuckin’ speakerphone.

“Nothin’, it’s…” He sighs, accepting his new-found position: backed into a fucking corner. What’s new these days?

“Yeah, I’m up. See you in a bit.”

He hangs up the phone midway through an Alright, buddy from your dad, and whacks the chargrilled pancake on top of the pile. His phone surfs across the counter in a blur of blind panic, before Joel’s taking the stairs two at a time to get to you.

The door’s ajar. He can hear you quietly singing to yourself. Same song you’re always fucking singing, always trying to coax Joel into singing along with you. You’re humming the guitar solo when he whips the door open.

“Hey, hey,” he’s panting, taking your towel in one hand and reaching for the shower door with the other, a blur of movement before his eyes like he’s not in control of his own body. “Out.”

“Huh?” you reply, blinded by the soap suds running down your forehead and into your eyes.

“Baby,” Joel whispers, desperate, “you gotta get out. He’s here. Your damn dad’s here.”

He drags you over to the first place he spots: his closet. He knows it’s no fucking good, but he can hear your dad’s car squealing to a halt in his drive, and he’s in a blink panic wondering what artefacts, what evidence of your being here lie dotted around his house. Your bikini’s hanging up out back, there’s probably a hoodie still strewn over the back of his couch.

He doesn’t have time to think, though, because in the midst of his mental scan of every room whilst explaining to you what’s going on, your dad’s heavy boots just thudded onto his doormat.

“Miller?” he calls up the stairs. And Joel closes the closet over.

----------

He stands by the front door watching your dad’s car purr off down the street, waiting until it turns left and disappears behind the Dawsons’ back fence to shut the door. When he turns back into his hallway, the house is uncomfortably silent. You’re still up in his room.

The weight of your phone pulls at the waistband of his jeans. He slips his hand into his back pocket, fishes it out, and takes one step toward the stairs. The screen lights in his palm.

There’s a cluster of notifications from some film class group chat, a couple Snapchats from Sarah. A reminder to take your birth control from some pink-icon app, and then –

I’m heading over to Joel’s to check something out for him. Wanna meet me there?

He stares at it until the text burns into his eyes. Blinks, and it’s seared into his lids. His breath leaves his chest in a heavy, burdened sigh. It trembles as it pushes from his lungs. He feels something burning under his skin. All over.

He’s angry. And he’s trying to keep it contained.

Keep it where it lies, keep it beneath the surface. Stop it from pooling right behind his lips, collecting in the light of his eyes. Keep it from revealing itself. But when his foot lifts to the first step, it’s like a deadweight in the air.

He’s angry. But he’s fucking exhausted.

The bedroom is empty when Joel pushes the door open. You’re still hidden in the closet. You don’t look up at him when he pulls on the shuttered door, letting light flood across your hands, still covering your face. There are flicks of dripping wet hair peeking out from under the towel on your head.

He wants to put his arms around you. Wants to kiss you all over. Tell you, It’s okay, it’s alright. He didn’t see nothin’.

But he can’t. Because neither of those things are true.

Your dad saw the cowgirl hat. Hell of a lot like a hat my daughter has. It sent a sharpened bolt of panic through Joel’s body the second the words came tumbling out. He might’ve seen your bag lying at the bottom of the stairs. Might’ve passed your car on his drive here. There are so many loose fucking ends.

And more than that – harder to accept: maybe this isn’t okay anymore. Maybe it hasn’t been the entire time. And maybe, despite all his good efforts and the fucking way you make him feel, despite it being weeks now of tiptoeing and lying and covering your tracks – maybe you finally crossed a line.

He can’t look at you a second longer. His heart’s in his throat. If he opens his mouth to speak, he’ll probably choke. Break down. So he walks away.

You follow him downstairs a few minutes later, fully dressed and silent. Your touch sweeps across his shoulder blades, and it takes everything in him not to turn to you then and there. Come here, kiss me. Pretend none of it’s happening, just for a moment.

He sets your plate down in front of you. He’s taken the burnt pancake. He follows a pattern: cuts into the food, glances out to the backyard, and back to the plate. It’s the only thing keeping the words from rolling out onto the table in front of him. The only thing stopping him from –

You kick his leg. So gently, he barely feels it.

“You gonna eat?” he asks in response, chewing on the smoky flavor of burnt batter. Your hands hesitate, and he feels his own flinch as if to take them, rub them, squeeze them. And then he watches as you drag your knife through your own breakfast.

He wants you to yell at him. He wants to give meaning to the guilt he feels. He knows what’s coming, and he isn’t so sure that you do.

This is…impossible. It has been, from the start. Always sneaking off, coming up with excuses. So many fucking excuses, he can’t even keep them straight in his head anymore. She’s here, droppin’ my flannel off. Now we’re upstairs, I’m showin’ her my guitar. Need her to help with decorations. Your TV’s broken, did you know that? Don’t mind us, just sat in this private corner of my backyard, out of view of fucking everyone. I’ll pick her up from her rodeo night, take her home. She’s at Anna’s all day today, right?

And your dad – kind and naïve, or maybe just so fucking gullible that every single one lands like the flour did in the egg mixture. Just gracefully floats down into his brain, absorbs itself and folds perfectly into place.

So, yell at him. Get mad. Make him feel like the fucking asshole he knows he is. Leading you on, and letting you get close to him, and then when it gets too hard – pushing you away. Doesn’t matter if that’s what he did or not; doesn’t matter whether he did or didn’t mean it. He wants you to be mad at him. To justify what he’s about to do.

He slides you your phone. Motions for you to read it.

“Fuck…” you whisper, and then he thinks you get it.

But then you say, “…he didn’t see me, though. Right?” and his heart sinks.

No. He didn’t see you. But he saw so many little pieces of you, that Joel finds it impossible to consider that he isn’t already seeing the entire picture. He’s picturing your dad at home in the living room, one hand on his hip, the other running through his hair, adding two and two and two and two and –

You’re bickering. Actually arguing. He doesn’t know how to navigate it, save for letting the frustration take the wheel and drive the point home: you came too close to being caught.

You’re smarter than this, he knows you are. He knows that you can see plain as day, everything that he can. The bag, the hat, the fucking home-cooked breakfast sat on his kitchen counter. He’s watching you argue your point, hands dancing in the air animatedly, eyebrows lifting, eyes widening. Hear me out. Listen to me. Hear me out.

“I didn’t fucking mean to let him see the b–”

“That’s not the point,” Joel says, before he has time to stop himself.

“Then what’s your point?”

He feels his voice carry off into the air with the images racing around his head. Hank’s shadow under the door. The roar of voices downstairs as you climaxed. Your body pinned under Joel’s on your couch. The way the morning light screamed into the house as your front door burst open.

He doesn’t sound like he has much of a point, even to himself. He’s in it just as much as you are. He’s lied and he’s hidden just as much as you have, and made mistakes that are…worse, as far as he’s concerned.

And the worst one of all sits directly opposite him. Head low, eyes boring into the wood of his kitchen table. He can see the tears swelling across your waterline. Can feel the heat from here as it spreads across your face. Anger thrums through his chest again, and his teeth grit.

He murmurs, pushing himself up from the table and away from you. Tells you there’s some stuff he needs to see to. You’re mad about it, like he knew you would be. Like you should be. He promises he’ll be back in a couple hours; promises you’ll talk when he gets home.

And then he leaves.

----------

Clark’s is on the other side of town. It takes him nearly forty minutes to get there, and more than half of that time is spent staring at the tail lights of a Honda in front of him. Some accident up ahead. His eyes bore into the burning red strip of brake light until it’s singed into them, a blur of blue when he finally rips his glare away and stares up at the white sky.

He thinks about calling you. Saying, Hey, I’m stuck in traffic, talk to me, but he doesn’t. He just…doesn’t.

Instead, he wonders what you’re doing. Whether or not you’re still at his place. He wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t. But if you are – and he hopes you are – what are you doing?

He thinks: She’s on the couch. Bundled in blankets. Grey’s is on TV. She’s rewatchin’ her favorite episodes.

Least, that’s what he wants you to be doing. Wants you to be making yourself feel better, because he knows he was a complete ass earlier. You didn’t deserve any of it. Nothing that he didn’t deserve himself, just as much, anyway.

He thinks about coming home, and you hitting pause, pushing yourself off the couch and sauntering around to him. Wrapping him in the blanket until your bodies are pressed together under the woven red, and kissing him. Kiss me kiss me kiss me.

And the thought of you, standing on your tiptoes to press your soft lips to his, your fingers sifting through his hair, is like a cold pack on a searing wound. Dulls his anger, even if it’s just for a second.

His wide tires crawl silently across the smooth lot of the plant hire, parking right in front of the wire fence. The truck door slams shut when he gets out. He doesn’t mean it. Maybe he does. But he does it without thinking, and with a hot head, a temper sharper than nails, he strides over to the glass-paneled door and swings it open.

She’s sat behind the desk, same as always. Dark, deep auburn hair, groomed and set to perfection so that when she looks up, it doesn’t move an inch. Curls around the sweetheart shape of her face, smooth and shining. Her blue eyes twinkle in the glaring light from outside, and she stands.

She tugs lightly on the hem of her white blouse. You’d probably elbow him and say, That’s cream, not white. She smiles at him and it doesn’t look a thing like your smile. He doesn’t remember the last time he saw your smile. Fuck, he thinks, when did I last make her smile?

And he’s still wondering, when Lois says, “Hey, stranger,” and puts a gentle, pale, red-nailed hand down on the desk. “Long time, no see.”

“Yeah,” Joel grumbles, clearing his throat and glancing at the man in a pair of thick, steel-toe boots, sat in a waiting area to his left. He thinks it’s probably polite to ask how she is. It’s been seven weeks since he blew off her hint for a date.

“Good, thanks,” she replies, cheeks swelling even more. They’re lightly shaded crimson, a soft shimmer to them against her snowy skin, dappled with light freckles. “You?”

He nods once. “Good,” he echoes, not sure what else to say. He’s lying, and she doesn’t seem to figure him out the way you would.

No. Instead, Lois steps back, straightens up, and twirls the pen in her fingers. “What can I do ya for?”

“Got some equipment I’m after,” he mutters, hand slipping into his back pocket for his phone. Lois’s eyes flit up and down his body as he taps his passcode in with his thumb.

She asks him something, but it sounds like she’s speaking through a closed door. He’s elsewhere.

The phone unlocks, screen lifting to reveal the last open app: his camera roll. His thumbs hover over the screen, tracing where yours would’ve tapped last night.

The video’s muted, she won’t hear it even if he let it play, but he swipes away the second he recognizes the tangled mess of your hair, his fist locked tight in it. His own hair, salt and pepper buried deep in the crook of your neck.

Something in his chest aches. Pulls tight, hurts his heart. He takes a deep breath and scares the feeling away. He’s staring at his camera roll. Staring at twelve little square thumbnails – couple of them work stuff, couple of them lists of supplies he has to remember to pick up – and then. Then.

You. At the Hillcrest. Dimples in your cheeks. That’s what made him take his phone out. The soft dips in your skin that appear anytime you smile, laugh, sometimes even just when you talk. He’d first noticed them when you had a mouth full of pizza, chatting animatedly about Meredith and Derek, and he’s noticed them every time since.

He’d seen them, as you posed with Sarah for a selfie at lunch. And his hand had slipped into his pocket before his brain even had the chance to finish the thought.

His quiet way of marking how he felt in that moment. How his chest seemed to fill as if with air, or something thicker. Sweeter. Like it was trying to push words up, a comment to tell you how beautiful you looked. Trying to make him move, run his thumb light as air across that tiny valley in your cheek and look at you with eyes that translated the words hammering behind his eyes.

But you had company. And all he managed to do was take two fucking photos.

Lois talks again, and this time, there’s no closed door.

“Huh?” Joel’s head snaps up, takes a few seconds to focus on the red hair in front of him. “Sorry, Lois, sorry.”

“’s alright. You okay?” She’s smiling so warmly, so sincerely. And there are no dimples in her cheeks.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “just checkin’ for the address.”

She holds out a pad, a stack of hire agreement forms hovering between her body and his, but he’s not looking. He’s still scrolling through his phone, thumbs searching your dad’s text thread for the information. Lois lowers the pad to the counter, places the pen on top. Fiddles with it until it’s lined up with the top of the form perfectly.

Then Joel looks up, and she smiles again.

“Not for you, then?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “Just the messenger.”

“Got it. Well, you know what you’re doing. Let me know if you need anything.”

Lois takes a step back, eyes still on Joel, who smiles politely, then swipes the form from the desk and takes a seat between Steel-Toe Boots and some tall, leafy plant that he has to bat away when he sits down. He’s copying the site address, phone resting on his thigh, when the receptionist speaks again.

“How’s Sarah doin’? She home yet?”

“Yeah,” Joel replies, “been home a couple weeks now. She’s been in Nashville this weekend.”

Lois lifts her head, blinking slowly. “Nashville. Nice. So, you’ve had a weekend to yourself.”

He scoffs. “Yeah,” he croaks.

“And what does Joel Miller get up to when he has an empty house for a few days?”

His fingers squeeze around the pen, pushing deeper into the paper. His expression hardens. “Nothing excitin’ enough to share. Sat by the pool yesterday. Was nice out.”

She agrees. “Sure was. You have company?”

Joel shakes his head once. Blinks the image of you and your red bikini from his vision. Focuses on dragging the pen one digit at a time across the line labeled Phone Number. If he cared enough, he’d give the obvious hint a couple seconds’ consideration, even just to protect Lois’s pride a little.

But he doesn’t care. And right now, he ain’t interested in protecting anyone but you.

“Nope. Just me ‘n a few beers.”

“Better off that way,” a hoarse, forty-cigs-a-day voice rasps from his right. “Less fuckin’ problems.”

Joel’s jaw rotates a degree towards the work boots; notices the folds of dry, leathery skin piled atop the raised gray eyebrows of their owner, and then turns back silently.

Lois clears her throat awkwardly. “Well, I spent the day with my book. I’m readin’ a Colleen Hoover. Adam’s at camp, so – quiet house for me, too.”

Joel finds himself nodding. Autopilot. He’s pretending he’s listening.

You’re still in his sight, wandering over from the sliding kitchen doors, a bottle in each hand. He can hardly see you when he looks up, the sun’s so bright. You hold a beer out, condensation dripping down your fingers towards Joel’s when he takes it, and then you slump down in the sun lounger next to his.

His arm reaches across, and your small fingers wrap and then unwrap around his, running across his knuckles, nails lightly scratching his worked hands. And he’s smiling, and he doesn’t even notice it until his eyes meet yours and you laugh, and he asks, What? through a chuckle, and you say, Nothin’, you just look happy.

Your dimpled blush blurs back into checkboxes and scrawled handwriting. You’re gone again. He’s in a white office, and the gentle lapping of the water on the pool’s edge fades into the headache noise of a fan humming, and he feels the warmth of your gaze on his skin turn into the cold, harsh spotlight glare of Lois’s eyes on him.

He looks up. She’s still smiling. At this point, he finds it fucking unnerving.

He rises from his chair, swings a wandering leaf from that ugly green plant out of his way and paces back over to the desk, sliding the pad back across to her. Their hands brush as she takes it from his grip, and he pulls his wrist close to his body. Lois doesn’t seem to notice.

She’s running the pen down the form, checking everything he’s filled in. Her tongue moves around the inside of her cheek, sucking on a hard candy. “Delivery on Friday?” she double checks, and Joel nods. “Alright,” she says, tearing away his copy, “we’ll call ya.”

“’ppreciate it,” he mumbles, folding the paper into his back pocket.

She turns, reaching to slip the form into a blue tray, and Joel pauses. Thinks to say something – he hopes Adam has a fun time at camp, or that Lois enjoys the rest of her quiet week. But then he sees you sat opposite him, staring fixedly at the plate before you, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. He feels your hand laced in his, hears your laugh still ringing in his ears.

He misses you. He should never have left you. You matter more to him than some equipment for a site. Matter more to him than anything. He should’ve never fucking left.

Joel nods. Reaches for the handle of the door. Glances back to Lois. “There a florist anywhere near here?”

----------

He pulls the truck in alongside the florist. Teal window frames, a little pink door. He can hear you now. How fucking cute is that store? Give me your phone, I gotta get a picture. Mine’s is in my bag in the back. Look, the traffic’s movin’, Joel, give me your phone – quick!

His fingers hook around the silver door handle. He pats his jeans once – wallet’s right there – and goes to pull, when his cell vibrates from the center console. He can see himself in the glass screen, your dad’s name written across the reflection of his forehead.

He bites down on his lip. Hard. Glances up to the road ahead. Blinks. And decides to answer.

“Joel,” your dad chirps down the line. “Sorry, buddy, you’ll be sick a’ the sight ‘n sound of me today.”

Joel manages a convincing laugh. “What’s up?”

“Just makin’ sure you’re rememberin’ to put Friday’s date down for delivery on that order. We’re gonna need the stuff over the weekend, so.”

“Yep. Just been to do it right now. Friday’s date, Harvey’s site, your card details ‘n everything.”

“’attaboy. Good job. You’re all grown up.”

“Funny.”

“Thanks, pal. I appreciate it. There wasn’t no chance I was gettin’ time to do it myself,” he lowers his voice, “I’m still stuck here with Kelman.”

Joel’s fingers trace around his steering wheel. “Oh, yeah? He keepin’ you busy?”

“You bet. Had to haggle with ‘im just to get a lunch break. Speakin’ of – I swung by the house and that daughter of mine wasn’t home. Haven’t seen or heard from her since yesterday mornin’. I’m just checkin’ she ain’t stop by to see Sarah or som’?”

His fingers lock tight around the leather. “Sarah’s still in Nashville, she gets in tonight. Couldn’t tell you where yours is. I’m not home yet, so.”

It’s a half-truth. He could wager a pretty good guess, but he can’t be certain, can he?

Your dad chuckles down the line. “She spent the night at Anna’s. My house must be like prison to her – she’s never around anymore. I’ll hear from her soon, I’m sure. Alright. Thanks, again, Joel.”

He drops the phone back into the cupholder with a sigh, leaning back against the headrest to stare at the roof of the truck. He’s still picturing you in his living room, head turning to the street at every sound of a car door, or tires rolling by. And then the image is marred by your dad, peering in the window back at you, catching you wrapped up in a situation you shouldn’t be in.

He doesn’t want your dad to find out. For obvious reasons. Because it would mean the collapse of their friendship, the collapse of the world they built between them – for you, for Sarah, for themselves. Comfortability, and normalcy, and routine and order all thrown to the wind on account of some month-long fling.

But more important than all of that: it would mean dragging you into all of that, too. Fucking up your relationship with your dad. Making things weird between you and Sarah. Ruining whatever’s left of what you and Joel had, before you both took it too far.

And if he doesn’t want all that – if he doesn’t want your dad finding out – then something has to change. Something’s gotta stop.

His fingers wrap tight around the key and turn, and the truck jumps to life. He turns away from the teal-colored florist as he pulls off.

----------

You take it about as well as he reckoned you might. About as well as you should, given the circumstances. He isn’t surprised, and he doesn’t blame you. He’s probably on your side, when you argue back with him.

“You’re not serious, right? Joel. You’re not –”

“Kid, I…”

“No. What? Because of a fucking bag?”

He lifts his gaze and pleads with you. “Because of the lying.”

You’re right, with your response: it’s never been an issue until now. He’s been more than fucking happy to sneak off, take you as his own, and then return with a satisfied grin and a mouth full of excuses to feed your company. He almost agrees.

It’s just: this time, your dad’s at your heels like a bloodhound. A little less sharp, maybe. Blind as a fucking bat, sure. But he can smell something’s up. And he’s circling it, nose to the ground, drawing nearer and nearer to the pair of you with each step.

You ask if he wants to tell the truth. That thought scares him just as much. Knocks him back a few steps. No, he doesn’t want to come clean.

The words fly back and forth like a tennis match. Too fast for him to keep control of what he’s saying and how you’re hearing it. He wants to break it off – is there anything to break off? – but he doesn’t want to lose you – how can you lose something you never had? – and then: did he ever have you in the first place?

You’re standing over him, between his knees. “End it,” you tell him. “I’ll go.”

There’s a casualness in the loose shrug of your shoulders that scares him more than the prospect of you actually leaving. How easy it looks like it could be, for you to just wander out. Sling your bag over your shoulder and revert back to the start of the summer, when he was just a ride home after a rainy day at work.

Forget how to touch him the way he’s certain only you can, forget the secret language between you, forget every stolen glance and whispered word and every thought that ever translated from your brain to his as easy as they would pass between your lips.

“You don’t mean nothin’ to me? That what you think?” He’s laughing. Disbelief, fear, shock. Whichever one it is, it pulls across his cheeks painfully. Somehow, you’ve ended up at the foot of his bed.

“Well, what else am I supposed to take from this, asshole? That you’re fuckin’ in love with me?”

It’s cold water over an already-dying fire. The words smother into ash on his tongue. No more come to the front. He just stares at you. His phone starts to chitter out into the silence between you.

You take a step forward. Your voice is low. “You don’t get to do this, you know. You don’t get to pull me in and then drop me…once you’re done with me.”

“Don’t.”

It’s not much, but it soars from the pit of his stomach, through his throat and past his lips like a final arrow. All he can muster up.

“Don’t.”

There’s a weight where the words originate from. Something deep in his gut, an ache pulling its way upward, swelling across his chest. His ears are screaming.

Of all the things you might think – he’s an asshole, he’s a liar, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing – the worst one would be that he spent this entire time leading you on. Making you feel special. Making you think you were something to him.

You are something to him. You’re – you’re fucking everything to him. It’s why he’s doing this, right? Going against every instinct, every gut feeling. To protect you. To do what’s right by you. He’s not fucking done with you. He wonders if he’ll ever go another day in his life without thinking about you.

“I can’t read your mind anymore…” you whisper, and his lungs steal a breath. His lack of response flattens your expression.

Joel might not be done, but you are.

He can feel you slipping from his grasp like sand through his knuckles. Each grain rocking itself loose, choosing to throw itself to the depths below rather than spend another second wrapped in his clutch.

He’s trying so desperately to hold onto you. Listen to me, he thinks, and he knows you can’t hear him anymore. Because now you’re really going – you’re tripping out of his room. Your heel catches on the threshold, like one last-ditch attempt from fate to pull you back into him, but you stop yourself and spin, fleeing down the hallway.

He takes a loose grasp of your wrist, fingers barely meeting on the other side of your skin before you tear it away from him like he’s scalded you. The look on your face makes him think for a moment that he might actually have done it – burned you. Pained you. Raised the skin below your gentle palm in a furious, red glow.

He’s swapping words out like they’re tools, each one immediately breaking and being flung back into the box. He’s trying any combination, any useless, futile order of words to make you stop in your tracks. You know how much I care about you, ‘s why I’m doin’ it, baby, come back, we can talk about this.

And he opens his mouth to give voice to the only words he knows would stop you – the reason why he’s doing it in the first place, the only thought he’s had anytime he’s looked at you for the last couple weeks. He opens his mouth to say it, or say something like it, when the machine silences the ringtone and the pair of you, too.

Her voice is like ice down the back of his shirt. He stares at the machine, red light blinking like a rag to a bull. He could walk over to it and smash the ever-loving fuck out of it with his fists until it’s dust on his coffee table. Until it shuts the fuck up, stops interfering with his fucking business.

And then he thinks about Lois, and her cream blouse, and her red nails, and her big, blue eyes, and her soft drawl and everything about her that is so entirely opposite to everything about you.

And how much – despite how nice and friendly, or funny and good-natured she is – how much he hates her right now, and how much he fucking loves you.

But you’re gone, now. Washed away by the tide. No more sand in Joel’s palm.

He tries to stop it. Tries to wind back a little, tries to make the sea cough up what it just stole from him. Give her back, you fuck. His eyes are stinging like salt water. Why are they stinging? There’s a roaring in his ears – the waves laughing in his face. Sickly and deafening.

He’s doing his best to keep a hold on his trembling voice. He knows he sounds pathetic. But yours is louder, stronger, steadier. And when you talk, it’s with an air of finality. Like you’re turning over the horizon. The last time he’ll ever see you again.

“I’ll see you ‘round, Joel.”

----------

He doesn’t call or text you that night. He doesn’t know what he’d say. Doesn’t even know where he’d begin. You’re mad, and Joel figures you got every right to be. This entire thing – today, this weekend, the whole month you’ve been together – is one big fucking mess.

He spends the afternoon hunched over his kitchen table, trying to distract himself with work. Twirling a pencil between his fingers, reading three, four, sometimes five times over the same building plans before deciding that the words and numbers won’t fucking sink in. He leaves them strewn across the table, wanders aimlessly upstairs and takes a cold shower.

Sarah’s flight gets in at 8PM. Joel’s sat curbside, truck engine humming, scanning every single figure that walks out of the airport building. When he spots the gray hoodie, the brown hair tied back with a pink scrunchie, the much-too-big-for-four-days-away suitcase rolling at her heels, he gets out.

She hugs her friends, they nod in passing greeting to him, and she skips over.

“Hey,” he breathes as she wraps her arms around his waist. “How was your flight? Saw you comin’ in.”

She shrugs in response. “I’m hungry. Wanna go get McDonald’s?”

Joel grumbles, slotting her case in the back of the truck. “You don’t wanna get home? Take a shower first? You smell like plane.”

“Ha! No.”

She opens the passenger side door and hoists her foot up on the seat, retying her sneaker. Joel’s already in and buckled up, hands on the wheel, watching her blue nails loop the laces.

“There’s one, like, ten minutes away.”

He’s shaking his head. “We got food in the house.”

Her gaze lifts. Her foot drops. “Oh, c’mon, it’s on the way home. We’ll be, like, five minutes. I just got off a two-hour flight, dude, right through dinner. I’m starving, I –”

“Would you just get in the damn truck, Sarah?”

It’s shorter, snappier, angrier than he meant. But he’s parked in the middle of the packed pick-up area, and the rattling of suitcase wheels and the whistling of cab drivers and the fucking roaring of planes overhead are making the headache behind his eyes worse.

Sarah freezes, one arm still leaning on the doorframe. “Jesus. What the fuck?”

“Sorry,” Joel mutters, shaking his head. “Sorry. Just – get in.”

“No need to be an asshole about it,” she murmurs, pulling herself up into the passenger seat.

Joel’s face is in his hands, elbows atop the steering wheel. “I’m not tryna be an asshole,” he says into his palms.

His daughter looks at him. Concerned. “Somethin’ happen? While I was gone?”

He shakes his head again.

Nothing happened.

He’s quiet the rest of the night. The rest of the week. Sarah notices, he knows she does, because she pries. In her own way. She’s smarter than he is. Less obvious.

She’s already up and in the kitchen when he rises on Tuesday morning. Spins around at the toaster, tells him the machine’s ready for his coffee. Asks if he wants her to make it. Asks if he wants any breakfast.

Thanks, kiddo. No, I’ll get it. No, you’re good, thanks.

They sit opposite one another in silence, save for the crunching of Sarah’s toast. He can feel her eyes on him, same way he felt Lois’s. Trying to burrow deep inside, take a look at his brain. Catch a glimpse of the words he’s thinking over and over and over.

There ain’t no words, though. It’s just images. Video replay of your back as you strode down his driveway, the way the wind caught your hair and brushed your cheek, the way your hand came up to wipe your tears. And the way he stood there, like a fucking idiot, and did nothing.

His chest hurts any time he thinks about you. Pulls in, knits itself together in knots. He’s good at pushing feelings down, good at turning them away from the sunlight like faded pebbles. But this is different. It’s a different kind of hurt.

It’s unresolved, it’s an open wound. It’s you. And it’s every time he hears REO Speedwagon, every time he pulls a flannel over his shoulders and catches the scent of your perfume on it, every time he’s flicking through the TV and catches a flash of a hospital setting, it’s a pair of hands deep inside the wound, pulling it a little wider.

It aches. It stings and it aches and it winds.

And then he turns the pebbles around. Back to the shade. Over and over and fucking over.

On Wednesday night, he caves. Asks Sarah if she’s spoken to you.

She’s chewing on a slice of pizza; licks the grease from her fingertips before she answers. “Not really. She’s been quieter than usual. Why?”

“She’s been quieter than usual?” he repeats, playing off the way his head shot up by looking straight back down at the pizza box.

Sarah narrows her eyes. “Yeah. I figure she’s working a lot.”

“Right. Right.”

“She gets tired of being in the house all the time, I think. Getting treated like a kid still. So I guess the more time she can spend outta there, the better.”

Joel nods slowly. He already knows that much.

Sarah studies him. Watches his hands as he dabs a pizza crust into the dip. When he tosses it in his mouth, he looks back up at her.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says. “You want the last slice?”

“You take it,” he mutters, sitting back and wiping his hands on a napkin. “I’m stuffed.”

She hums, reaching forward. “Whatever it is,” she says, pulling the dough apart, “that’s got you this down –”

“Ain’t nothin’ got me down, kiddo.”

“– whatever it is,” she continues, “I bet it works itself out.”

Sarah stands up, taking her water with her, and wanders out of the kitchen.

----------

Joel struggles through another sleepless night, Thursday through Friday. His eyes don’t close over once. He hauls himself out of bed early in the morning, forces a black coffee down his throat, and heads off to work.

He’s up at some new client in Waco. Andrew Curtis – or, well, Andrew Curtis’s father, but Joel’s been dealing primarily with the son, and the guy’s a fucking imbecile. Doesn’t know his head from his ass, probably. And he has a voice like nails on a damn chalkboard, and his shirt’s untucked around the back, but Joel ain’t got a tone kind enough, or half the wordsmanship, or an ounce of energy to tell him.

Anyway – he spends all day at this dusty site, trying to work and instead, thinking about whatever the fuck you’re doing. Wherever you are, whoever you’re with. It’s almost seven by the time he’s leaving, packing up his truck and watching Andrew Curtis across the yard. He’s spotted his own shadow; he’s twisting around to reach the ducktail poking out from above his belt loops.

Joel thinks to call you about it on the way home. Tell you all about the guy: his dry conversation, his flannel, the fact he kept calling Joel Joe all day. He figures it would make you laugh, least the way he’d tell it, and he reckons that’s exactly what you need right now. That’s exactly what he needs, right now.

When Clark’s call him, he dials your dad. Has his ear blown half to hell by the speakerphone. Learns midway through the conversation that you’re right there in the car, too, and bites back a stream of incoherent, senseless words. Settles for a quiet reminder: he’s right here if you need him.

He doesn’t expect you to take him up on it. Knows you got better things to do than deal with some asshole who’d rather break your heart than have a few difficult conversations. You’re probably having fun, probably finally feeling good again. You’re probably fine.

But still. He doesn’t sleep that night, either.

It’s just gone two when Anna calls. He’s lying in bed, some shopping network on loop on the TV. His tired eyes bore into the screen, defocusing over the pixels, not watching nor listening and barely fucking breathing until he picks up the phone. Her voice is panicked, shrill, and shaking so much he wonders if his own phone is trembling with it.

“Mr. Miller?” she asks, and Joel sits up. “Got your number from Yelp. ‘m sorry it’s so late, it’s…oh, fuck – it’s, like, 2AM.”

“Anna,” Joel says hoarsely. Get to the fuckin’ point.

“Right. Sorry. It’s just…we kinda have a…situation, here.”

It’s you. He fucking knows it’s you. His heart begins to hammer. He doesn’t give a fuck whether she puts two and two together or not when he asks –

“Where is she?”

“We’re still at Frank’s,” Anna says, sniffing. He can hear the booming bassline of music, muffled; the sharper chatter of voices. She’s on the street. In his head, he can see her shoulders hunched; her bare arms wrapped around her body for warmth. She goes to say it again. “We’re still at –”

“’n where is she?” Joel cuts, and she finally cracks.

In one long, drawn breath, she spills. “She was fucked from the second we walked in here; she drank too much too quick, Mr. Miller – Joel,” she says when he corrects her, “and then she just – I dunno, she just – fucking disappeared with these guys, me ‘n Kara never saw ‘em in our lives – and they went upstairs we think, and she came back smelling like weed, and then this guy – he just, like, scooped her off, Mr. M– I mean Joel, like, totally dragged her away, and then –”

“Who–? Anna – Anna, wait,” Joel says, shushing her between her rambling, trying to rein in what she’s saying. When she finally shuts up, he speaks slowly and calmly. “Who dragged her away?”

“We don’t fuckin’ know!” she almost shrieks down the line. It cuts out for a second and Joel’s heart stops dead.“– so we don’t know,” she says when her voice filters back through into his ear, “but Sam said he saw the dude drop something in her bottle when he turned away. A pill or something.”

Joel’s body tenses. Freezes solid, with the blood in his veins. His eyes fix on one spot on his dresser: the loose handle that sits a little squint. He stares at it until his peripheral starts to blur.

“He – say that again?”

“He roofied her, we think. But we can’t fucking find them. Sam and Kara are in there just now looking. The guy pulled her away, that’s what I’m tryna say!”

“Right,” whispers Joel, nodding. He drags a heavy hand over his eyes, tries to push the image of you in danger out of his head for one second so he can figure out what to do.

Anna doesn’t hear him. She keeps talking. “…and then Sam said she told him not to call her dad, but I had to call someone, y’know? You’re the only person I think she wouldn’t – I think she wouldn’t mind me callin’. Please.”

He’s already halfway down the stairs, arms pushing through the sleeves of his shirt. He keeps the phone against his cheek when he bends to reach for his boots, ties them loose and grabs his keys.

“You call me as soon as you find her, you hear? I’m on my way,” he tells Anna, and hangs up.

He’s panicking. Fear, transferred between her cell and his, creeping over his shoulders, wrapping long, cold fingers around his throat. He’s panicking. He’s panicking. He never panics. Where the fuck are you? Who the fuck are you with?

There’s barely any traffic on the road, but the drive takes for-fucking-ever. The lights at the side of the road blur into long, thin streaks of orange. His hands are tight around the steering wheel, his jaw clenched. Your name lies loose on his lips.

He pulls up right outside the bar. There are small clusters of people, congregated tight together under the streetlights; cigarettes hanging from lips, bottles loose in hands. He shoves by them on his way to the door. Some guy shuffles out of his way, looking up to cuss Joel out and quickly dipping his head again when he locks eyes with the grizzly expression.

He shoves the door open with his shoulder, and spots you instantly.

----------

His knuckles are throbbing. Skin stretching anytime he moves his hand, searing hot and sharply stinging across the bone. Your touch is the only thing soothing them right now.

He got two good punches in. Just two. Burst the guy’s nose. He would’ve kept going, had he not been in a bar full of people – people who knew who he was – and had you not been stood behind him, body liquid-like from how much you were swaying.

But he has you home now. Up in your room, settled in bed. You’re safe. You’re with him.

You’re fucking wasted. Like, can barely lift a glass of water to your lips unaided wasted. He spent the entire drive watching over you, stealing glances when your head turned or your eyes lulled closed, checking you were still awake, still talking, still fucking breathing.

Whatever that asshole gave you, you don’t seem to have had enough for it to do too much damage. The alcohol is the real culprit. Though you were cognitive enough to yell at him over Lois in the kitchen, which relieved him for a second before it fucking crushed him. He’s lying awake right now – listening to the sound of your snoring – replaying the argument in his head. Over and over.

You’re an asshole and a liar. Just stringing me along this whole time.

He’s some awful cocktail of angry and terrified and fucking heartbroken. You’re lying inches from him, your hand resting softly on top of his, and yet – you’re miles away. The space between you both – fragmented, treacherous.

In a perfect world, he’d have wrapped his arms around your shoulders. He’d have pulled you against his weight, against his strong, steady form. And he’d have walked you, as slow as you needed, out of the bar and to his truck. Maybe laughing. Maybe singing.

He’d have told you everything was fine, told you he loved you, told you he was gonna get you home, make you feel better. He’d hold you until the sun came up, and then hold you until it went back down.

He’d love you. And you’d let him.

Maybe that world doesn’t exist, Joel thinks. And maybe that’s for the better.

It fucking hurts, though. Stings like a hot blade through his chest. All this time, messing around, pretending there was nothing more to it. Letting his feelings through like water in a fucking dam. It was bound to break eventually.

And maybe he really thought, even just for a fleeting moment, there could be something here. Something worth holding onto. More than two idiots messing around, more than sex and secrecy.

He didn’t even realize. Didn’t notice the shift. When did he start feeling…more? When did it cross that line?

He’s staring at the end of your bed. Thinking about you under him, gripping onto his shirt, his hand between your legs. The very first time. And every other fucking time since then. Which one was the threshold? Who pushed who?

His ringtone bursts through the silence, making him jump. His arm swings to fish it from the nightstand, swiping to answer before he’s even read who’s calling, just to shut the thing up.

“Hello?” he murmurs.

“Hey, Joe? Uh, I mean, Joel? It’s Andrew Curtis here.”

He rolls his eyes. For fuck’s sake. “Mornin’, Andrew.”

“Hi. Sorry, I know it’s super early. I’m just checkin’ we’re still good to go. I got my guys ready, we’re rarin’ to get goin’ whenever you are.”

Joel clears his throat, pushing slowly off the plush mattress, resting your hand on the sheets. “Yeah, uh…” He slips out of your room, hopping over to the bathroom and closing the door over. “…I had a, uh…a family emergency durin’ the night. I’m gonna be a little late, but I’ll be there.”

“Oh, gee, I hope everything’s alright?”

He phrases it like he wants Joel to clue him in. He considers for a second actually saying, Yeah, my best friend’s daughter – who I’ve been sleeping with for the last month – got plastered at a bar – Frank’s, local place, you heard of it? – because I broke things off with her – but I didn’t want to, I was just tryna be fuckin’ noble – and I went and picked her up, punched a guy who was tryna hurt her, because guess what, Andrew – I’m in fuckin’ love with her.

He sums it up with: “Yeah. Everything’s fine now. Thanks.”

“Alright, well, great news! Call me when you’re twenty minutes out, I’ll have the guys here for you arrivin’. Safe journey, Joe!”

Joel breathes an Uhuh and hangs up, holding the bridge of his nose. He has a headache, like he’s the one who’s been drinking. It’s only going to get worse, too, heading off to go spend his Saturday with Andrew fucking Curtis and his loose flannel.

The sun’s rising slowly, lighting the hall in a warm glow. Joel pads quietly into your room and pulls the cover back over his side of the mattress. You stir; your head jerks only to move some hair from your face, and then you sigh, sleep pulling you back into its arms.

He watches you for a second. Wishes he could run a light hand down your cheek, kiss your head. Whisper a goodbye, the same way you did to him almost a week ago.

He shakes the thought, collecting his boots from the floor. His hand hovers over his shirt for a moment. And then he lifts it by the collar, lays it neatly on the pillow by your head, and leaves. You can keep it, trash it, burn it. But it’s yours. Everything about him is yours.

In the kitchen, he stands by the sink, nursing a cup of coffee. It’s a quarter to six. This early on a Saturday, he figures he’ll be in Waco by seven, seven-thirty latest. His eyes fix on the spot you two stood last night, yelling back and forth about Lois. She seems so far away, now. He can barely remember the shape of her face, the sound of her voice.

His grip tightens around the mug. He places it in the sink, and grabs his keys. As he passes the stairs, he pauses. Leans on one foot, head tilted to listen out for any sound of life. Any fucking sound – the creak of a floorboard, the squeak of a door handle. Anything to keep him here. Anything.

Nothing comes. No sound, no movement, no you.

He closes the front door gently on his way out.

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