#sorry Pen i didn’t know you liked logicality before I wrote it

[endy-the-anxious]

Taking a break

Summary: Roman overworks, Logan helps him.

Word count: 768

Characters: Roman, Logan

Notes: I wrote this in one go, so, sorry if it isn't that good. Also this is vaguely inspired by Bojack Horseman.

Tagging: @lost-in-thought-20

----------

It was already late in the evening when Roman heard three careful knocks on the door of his room, followed by an uncharacteristically soft tone of voice calling out to him.

"Roman..? May I come in?” 

It was Logan’s voice, and in response Roman muttered a quick ‘yeah’ without taking his pen off of the paper in front of him. Behind him, the door opened and closed behind him, and the creative side heard soft footsteps coming up behind him, before a hand was placed on his shoulder.

“..you’re tense. How long have you been sitting here?” Logan asked, voice laced with concern.

Roman huffed, not looking up, “Not that long, probably.” he said.

He heard a sigh, and then the sound of Logan grabbing a second chair to sit beside him.

“We both know that isn’t true.”

Not answering again, Roman let the sounds of pen on paper fill the silence as he continued writing. He could feel Logan’s gaze on him, but stubbornly refused to meet his eyes.

When Logan realized he wasn’t getting an answer out of Roman, he continued, “..it’s been hours. Almost a whole day. You haven’t come out of your room once, not even for dinner. And you were like this yesterday too.. and the day before that. I think it’s about time you take a break.” he said, keeping his voice soft.

Roman shook his head, “I can’t, not right now. My writing isn’t finished yet.” he explained, hoping the logical side would leave him alone now, and yet knowing that wasn’t going to happen.

“It doesn’t have to be finished,” Logan said, “You can take a break, and continue after, but you have to stop now. This isn’t healthy for you.”

“..you’re one to talk..” Roman muttered, seeing Logan’s expression turn into a frown from the corner of his eye.

“That is exactly my point, Roman. You remember how I was, locking myself in my room all day. Working on schedules, writing papers, not even noticing how tired I was. You and the others literally dragged me out of my room to talk some sense into me.” Logan recalled. It hadn’t even been that long ago. A year at most. But Logan was proud to say that he’d gotten better at managing when to take breaks.

Roman managed a soft chuckle when he remembered that time, “..yeah.. you were really stubborn.” he said with a small smile.

“Mhm.. and guess what you're being now?” Logan asked, returning the smile, hopeful that Roman would see the similarities between how Logan used to act, and how the creative side was acting now.

Roman’s smile disappeared slowly before he answered, “..stubborn. But.. this is different. I know that if I stop writing now.. I won’t have the motivation to start again, and… I won’t finish this..”

“So?” Logan spoke, his tone almost growing a bit passionate, “So what if you don't finish this? It can’t possibly be more important than your wellbeing. Your work can never be more important than you. That’s what you told me. Don’t tell me you’re going back on your words now..”

Caught off guard, Roman’s writing faltered for just a second, “I-.. no, of course i’m not going back on my words-! I just.. I'm creativity..! If I'm not being creative, then what am I?”

Logan reached forward and cupped Roman’s cheek, “You’re Roman. You’re the charismatic, energetic, and passionate prince we all know and love. So please, put the pen down. Come join me, and we can have some tea, maybe watch a movie, take a break. If you want, I can even help you get back to work later, but right now, you need to listen to me.”

Feeling Logan’s warm hand on his cheek, Roman didn’t have the strength to resist anymore. He was starting to feel how tired he was, how dry his mouth was, and he could hear his stomach growling from hunger, now that he wasn’t ignoring it anymore. He looked away from the paper, and finally met Logan’s eyes, “..okay. I’ll-.... I’ll take a break. Can I just finish writing this paragraph..?” he asked quietly.

Logan nodded, and removed his hand now, “Of course. I’ll wait in the living room for you. Promise me you’ll join?”

“I promise..” Roman agreed, seeing Logan smile a bit, before walking away.

He continued writing for a bit, until the paragraph was done. Part of him wanted to keep writing, but he didn’t want to break his promise to Logan.

So, with a sigh, and after some slight hesitation, he put his pen down, and-

[blissicle]

I got chills, they’re multiplying Pt.1

(Plus a little bonus part)

Word count: a little under 1.7k words (bonus: 730 words)

Parings: Prinxiety, background moceit and intrulogical

Warnings: just one I think. Which is mentioned homophobia. But also cursing if you count “what the hell” as one. But let me know if there’s anything else

Note: hey! So this was inspired by @count-woe-laf ‘s idea of roman and Virgil working at a vintage cafe and just being gay with one another. I meant for it to be a quick little story, but I uh may have wrote a bit more than expected... also I wrote a bit of part 2, and figured I might as well include that too as a bonus. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this! It’s my first ever fic I’ve written, so it’s not perfect, but hopefully it will still be good. Enjoy!

——————————————-

“Alright I’m heading out” George declared while fiddling with the last button of his heavy coat, “make sure you close up the shop”

George strode over to the door, hand on the handle but paused looking back at the two, with a sudden looked fury, eyebrows burrow and mouth in a twisted frown with a cold stare that could kill, “and if I return finding a single object broken or a spec of grime on my establishment, I’ll kick ya out the door with no hesitation.” He spat.

And as quickly as it appeared, his frown turned into a sickly smile and George’s face instantly brightened, quite an unnatural and nerving quirk of his that roman has yet to get used to, “have a fantastic evening boys! And don’t take any wooden nickels!” George called back while pushing the door open, the wave of icy air flowing inside then quickly disappearing as the door closed shut from behind him.

Roman looked over to Virgil who shivered violently “Is that from the weather, or George?” roman asked amused as Virgil scrunched up his nose and grimaced “both”

Roman chuckled a bit at the response, as he himself felt the same edging nerves.

“He just gives me the creeps...” Virgil mumbled

“Hey at least he’s letting us host a movie night”

Virgil shrugged “yeah I guess” and stood up from leaning on the counter and walked over to the empty tables “come on help me stack up the chairs”

Roman nodded In response and look around the room with a pleasant smile. He always adored the look of the cafe, since it resembled the charming architecture of New Orleans quite a bit, but it looked even better when closing up for the day. The golden evening sun shone through the glass onto the light spring green of the walls, reflecting off of black and white photos and signed records scattered across the wall. it gave the accents made of dark wood framing the corners and ceilings a warm and tender graze too. He looked outside as the winter wind blew a few left over autum leaves into the streets as the occasional car came rushing by. roman sighed with a smile, feeling content with the calming atmosphere around him.

“Roman?” Virgil called back

Roman snapped back to reality “huh? oh right, sorry” And he promptly set to work, picking up a wooden chair from the near by table and setting it upside down on the table, as Virgil did the same across the room.

———————-

Despite his dislike for their boss, who in which Virgil often speculates to be a murder in hiding, Virgil actually enjoyed working at the vintage cafe. Well, the actual working part where he had to talk to customers wasn’t that particularly fun, but he enjoyed being there with roman. Roman always has infuriated him since day one, with roman singing any and every Disney song just to annoy Virgil (only for him to be humming it the very next day under his breath) ,or his insistence of being extremely extra any chance he got, he still somehow ended up being good friends with the insufferable good hearted idiot that is his coworker, not to mention have the same group of friends as him.

After the last chair was put up, Virgil sighed and walked over to said-idiot who was sitting at the counter. He looked up from his phone when Virgil sat down next to him. “So what movies did you bring to choose from?”

Roman perked up at this, “oh! hold on let me go get them!” He rushed to the back room and came out a moment later with a giant box filled with many many CD’s and set it on the counter, “before I left this morning I made sure to bring my fabulous collection of Disney movies, and a couple of other stuff” roman explained proudly,

Virgil looked at the box on the counter and then looked over to roman with a incredulous look on his face, eyebrows raised.

“What? I couldn’t possibly choose between any of my darling babies!” Virgil just rolled his eyes in response, trying to smother the fond smile peaking at his the corners of his mouth. After a brief moment, he looked back to roman who was smiling... at him for some reason. “...What?” Virgil asked smirking back at roman unable to hide his own smile anymore.

“It’s nothing I just...” roman doesn’t finish and seems to be spacing out again, a habit virgil has learned he does quite often, but he’s staring at virgil with a look of what he can only describe as admiration at the very least.

Roman’s jade green eyes are gleaming softly as he’s looking at him reminding virgil of candle light and the evening sun shines on his face making his small smile even brighter. Roman suddenly shakes his head dragging himself out of his thoughts, “Sorry, I- uh spaced out there for a second,” Roman cleared his throat, and started busying himself with taking the CD’s out of the box.

“It’s ok” Virgil responded and looked down at the floor. Then he glances back up a roman and He notices a single lonely strand of hair falling down on his forehead, out of place from the rest of roman’s bronze curls and waves on his head. Without thinking Virgil leans forward and raises his hand and starts playing with the loose strand, twirling it and wrapping his finger around it

“it’s kinda funny sometimes to see you space out anyways, you always have that stupidly cute smile on your face whenever you do,” Virgil mumbled under his breath still smirking, then glances down to roman’s flushed freckled face and-

OHGODWHATDIDHEJUSTDO

wait- WHAT THE HELL DID HE JUST SAY?

The sudden sound of the door opening followed by the wave of icy air against Virgil’s now heated face caused him to draw his attention away from the moment and instead to the man in the doorway, who worked at the family-owned library across the street. “Oh h-hey specs!” The flustered expression on roman’s face had turned into an awkward smile, face still pink.

Virgil cleared his throat uncomfortably, “...didn’t you have something to do with the debate team today?” He asked

Logan, observing the odd tension between the two but saying nothing of it, took off his heavy coat and hanged it up on the coatrack. “it was cancelled do to Mr. Wells catching the flu, and Janus who was planning to take me to the meeting, apparently has a cold due to the weather”

Virgil snorted and rolled his eyes “yeah like he’s not just faking it”

“Perhaps, remus has mentioned to me accounts of the past where Janus had successfully faked an illness” Logan considered, “but I highly doubt he can convince Patton” Logan strode over to the box eyebrow raised, “Roman, did you bring your entire library of Disney movies?”

Virgil respond before roman opened his mouth “yep.” Behind him, he heard roman’s offended stuttering.

“They’re not all Disney! I have other movies than just that, like-“ roman looked down and searched through the box “see? Like princess bride! Among other things!”

Logan sighed and took the box and carefully dumped it on the counter and began shuffling through them. Once again, came the sound of door opening followed by the wave of icy air that made them all shiver slightly.

“Sorry I’m late you guys!” Patton stood in front of the door taking off his scarf and cap, “Janus seemed to have a cold and I couldn’t have possibly left him there like that until I made him cream of broccoli... though i didn’t have time to make sure he was sick, but he didn’t seem like he was faking it”

Virgil saw roman make a gagging face at the mention of ‘cream of broccoli’ and kicked him playfully under the counter to get him to stop before Patton saw. Roman pouted and mouthed a little ‘HEY’ and kicked Virgil back. Which Virgil ignored him as he said,” it’s fine Patton” then turned to kick roman again, which prompted a kicking war as they both attempted to kick and deflect the other.

Logan rolled his eyes at the nonsense and turned to Patton,” well conveniently, you came in just in time. we were just in the middle of selecting what movie to watch”

“Oh, great!” Patton cheerfully walked over to the movies displayed as Logan explained, “Roman predictably brought an abundance of Disney movies, but of course in case one of us disagrees, I’ve separated the non-Disney produced films into this group here” Patton nodded and looked over all the selections, wall-e... sleeping beauty... Harry Potter...

“Wait roman you have Greece?!” Patton gasped and picked up the CD.

“Huh?” Roman turned from Virgil mid-kick.

“Greece!” Patton held up the cd, “I didn’t know you watched it!”

Roman, with a look of confusion for a moment, suddenly made the connection,” oh! that must’ve gotten mixed up with my collection of movies I took with me when I moved out with my step-dad, I think that may be my mom’s. Sorry padre”

Patton gasped again, “what? You haven’t seen Greece?!”

“What’s ‘greece’?” Logan questioned

“Oh my goodness! Have none of you guys seen it?!”

Logan and Virgil shook their heads, “I mean I think I saw my mom watch it once or twice but I don’t have a good memory of it” Roman shrugged

“Ok, that’s it. We’re watching Greece. You guys have to watch it!” Patton announced, despite the unsure looks of the rest, “Don’t worry! It’s a really fun and cheesy! So we can make fun of it! That’s what me and my aunt used to do all the time when i was younger!”

Logan looked to roman and Virgil,” do we all agree on watching Greece then?”

Roman shrugged, “sure!” followed by Virgil nodding,” yeah I guess”

Patton brightened, “yay! And don’t worry, I’m sure guys will enjoy it!”

Bonus:

“Have a wonderful evening Ms.Garcia!” Roman called to the exiting woman, who said nothing while looking down at her phone, but then waved a few seconds later, eyes still strained to the screen and left.

“Rude.” Roman mumbled, followed by a small snort he heard coming from his stormy knight in black leather beside him.

“yeah at least you didn’t have to deal with her order,” virgil grumbled, “where were you anyways? I thought we’d agreed to handle that homophobic prick together,”

“I was cleaning the sink!” Roman argued

Virgil eyed him, “it doesn’t take that long to clean the sink,”

“Ok fine, so I may have took my time with it..”

“Princey, really?!”

“I’m sorry! Look, I-“ roman wanted to say anything but the stupid truth that what he was actually doing was texting Remus for help on how he could smoothly ask the dreaded emo out.

As suspected, his suggestions were either too difficult to pull off, or inappropriate for freshman in high school like themselves. ‘What did you do to get Logan to go out with you?’ He remembered asking, ‘uhhhh I think I just asked him to do something with me that peeked his interest, like the first time we dissected a bunny-‘ roman refused to read the rest of the message from there on. Something that peaked his interests...

“How about this... if I let you choose a movie for us to watch together like a movie night of sorts, will you forgive me?” Roman suggested.

“Mmm...”

“Please my chemically imbalanced romance???,” roman pleaded, hoping the reference will help win him over.

“Ugh ok fine. Next weekend, Friday night. Ok?”

Roman brightened, “its a date then.” Roman agreed proudly. Virgil raised his eyebrows, oh god-, “like, you know, a friend date... with friends. Well, if you want to invite the others” please say no, please say no-

“Yeah that would be fun, let me text the group chat to see if anyone can make it,”

WAIT NO-

“Ok Logan and Janus apperently have an after school thing... Remus said he was busy.... oh cool Patton said he could make it” GAUH- WHY?!

“Sounds great!” Roman forced a smile. Maybe it wouldnt be that bad.. right?

——————————

It’s bad. It’s so so bad. He’s screwed. After excusing himself from the group to head to the bathroom, roman was finally able to think back and comprehend those few moments previous to Logan’s entry. Roman quickly shut the door behind him and leaned against. He took a deep breath and slid down to the floor, with a dopey grin on his face. It all happened to fast, Roman couldn’t help but notice the small shy smile coming from him, god it was so adorable. Suddenly Virgil looked over and caught the look roman gave him. Usually, roman would have covered it up, made a quick excuse, and he was in the middle of already doing so. But that gosh darn golden evening sun poked out of the clouds at the worse time possible. And roman was unable to think of anymore thoughts other than how incredibly breathtaking Virgil looked. The sunshine on his hair made it look so soft and messy and unkempt, his bangs failing to hide the absolute treasure that is his eyes. His eyes reflected the light, showing the streaks around his iris light up like brash elegant lightning. But even without the dramatic lighting, Roman has to admit his smile was absolutely the cutest thing about him, wide and joyful and just so full of pure happiness, rare enough to where anyone who was able to witness it must’ve considered themselves the luckiest human being on earth. Till he snapped out of it. He apologised, trying to act busy with moving cd cases around, but before he could even began cursing himself, Virgil leaned in closer to roman, which in fact has been the closest he’s ever been to him. Roman turned his head towards him, and the image of Virgil’s stupid gorgeous smirking face inches away from his, dark eyes filled with lightning, looking slightly above roman’s line of sight WHILE TOYING WITH A LOOSE STRAND OF HIS HAIR, is stuck in his mind on loop forever and forever. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the memory, he was saying something, wasn’t he? What did he say??

[babymetaldoll]

Don’t be a d!ck (Spencer Reid/Reader)

Requested: Yes! :) Spencer is jealous when he sees a picture of a dick on his girlfriend's phone

Summary: Spencer Reid can't believe it when he finds something shocking in his girlfriend's phone. And, of course, instead of asking her about it, he spends a whole day overthinking everything.

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader

Category: Fluff with mentions of sex and maybe a dash of angst. How would you call that? Flmut? smuff? flangut?

Warnings: Spencer being passive-aggressive. Sex references, cursing as always.

Word count: 2,3K

A/N: I loved this request so much!! hope you like it @meowiemari​

- "Pumpkin! have you seen my phone?"- Spencer asked his girlfriend after looking for it in every corner of their apartment, not finding it.

- "No, Honey! Did you look in your bag?"- she yelled from the bathroom, where she was getting ready to leave for work. The two of them worked together at the BAU, and they were late. There was no time for breakfast, just coffee... and finding Spencer's phone.

- "It's not there! can I use yours to call my phone?"

- "Sure! it's on my nightstand"

Spencer kept trying to remember where he had left his phone, but nothing came to mind because he usually didn't use it. He always kept it in his bag. Maybe someone had stolen it; they might have taken it from his bag. No, he had called his mother the night before, so he was sure it had to be somewhere in the house.

(Y/N)'s cellphone was precisely where she had said it was. He hated that. She always remembered where she had left her things. Spencer did too, but sometimes he was too concentrated reading a book. Or rambling about anything... or kissing (Y/N). Those things made him forget where the unimportant things were, for example, his phone.

He was about to joke about it and tell (Y/N) she was hiding his phone to mess with him, but when he unlocked hers, his heart stopped, and he nearly dropped it. Her phone's wallpaper... it was a picture... of... a... dick.

And it wasn't his.

There was a dick. Cock. Penis. And it wasn't his.

He tried to understand what was going on, but it made no sense: there was a fully hard male sexual organ. And. It. Wasn't. His.

- "Honey? Did you find it?"- (Y/N) asked and walked out of the bathroom. Spencer dialed his number in silence and waited until he heard it ringing in the kitchen.

- "Got it!"- he answered and put it in his pocket- "I'll wait in the car"- and without giving his girlfriend time to reply, he left the apartment.

Why on earth would (Y/N) do that? Wasn't he enough? Was she cheating? Whose cock was it? And how was he going to ask her? If she put that picture there, anyone could see it. Didn't she care?

.

- "Honey, are you listening?"- (Y/N) asked him as Spencer drove to the BAU. He had been quiet, tangled in all the doubts and questions that picture had filled his mind with. And he was unable to talk. Unable to simply ask (Y/N) what was that all about.

- "Yes, I'm fine"- he replied, serious and curt. (Y/N) looked at him and raised an eyebrow, confused.

- "Are you sure? you sound upset"

- "If I tell you I'm fine, it's because I'm fucking fine!"- and with that sentence, Spencer Reid ended any kind of conversation with his girlfriend. (Y/N) knew if he were mad about something, he would take his time to process it. And if she pushed him, he was going to freak out, yell and even say hurtful things. That's how Spencer had always been, and she wasn't going to change that.

.

- "Hey! are you ok?"- Morgan stood next to Spencer in the kitchenette. He had noticed his friend hadn't said a word the whole morning, and Derek knew his friend good enough to know that wasn't right.

- "Yeah"- Reid answered coldly and poured a cup of coffee- "So, you don't have any random facts to share with me? No rambling? no..."

- "No, Morgan, I have nothing to say!"- Spencer just snapped at his friend, and he stared at him, surprised

- "Sorry. I'm just..."- Reid was frustrated and embarrassed. He didn't know how to handle what had happened. Maybe Morgan could help. He trusted his friend, as long as he wouldn't tell Penelope.

- "Sorry"- Reid whispered and took a look around. The coast was clear. No one could hear if he shared his thoughts with Morgan, but... he had no idea how to tell him what had happened.

- "Did you fight with (Y/N)? whatever it is that you did, just say you are sorry"

- "No! we didn't... wait, what makes you think I would be the one doing something wrong?"- Derek shrugged and grabbed a mug. He also needed caffeine.

- "I'm just trying to help"

- "You are not helping!"

- "Then tell me what happened, pretty boy. You can deny it all you want, but you are too easy to read. Something is bothering you"

- "Ok, listen, I'm gonna tell you, but you have to swear you won't tell Garcia"

- "Cross my heart and hope to die"- Derek answered, chuckling. It was apparent he wasn't taking Spencer's words seriously.

- "I mean it. It would help if you didn't tell her or anyone. This is between you and me, ok?"- Spencer looked at Derek straight into the eyes and raised an eyebrow, trying to make his point. His friend nodded and happed on his shoulder.

- "You've got my word."

- "Hey! what are you guys doing here?"- (Y/N) walked in and smiled at her boyfriend- "How's your morning going?"

- "Good. Excuse me"- and just like that, Spencer walked in silence back to his desk.

- "What was that?"- (Y/N) asked Morgan- "Did you guys argue?"

- "No! I thought you argued"

- "No, we haven't. He has been acting pretty odd, though"

- "(Y/N), you know he is pretty o...."

- "He is not odd!"- (Y/N) interrupted her friend before he could even finish talking- "I'm gonna find out what's wrong with that man."

.

But her plans of talking with her boyfriend were quickly discarded when Hotch asked her to help JJ looking for some files. And that task took the two SSA the rest of the morning... and most of the afternoon.

.

- "Are you gonna tell me?"- Morgan sat on Spencer's desk and looked at him. He hadn't gotten any work done that whole time. He had been staring at a blank page, holding a pen, trying to come up with the words to write (Y/N) a letter.

Letters were Spencer's way to rearrange his thoughts. He didn't usually give her the letter he wrote her. He would just use it to collect himself. He knew he was an asshole when he was mad, and he always made his best not to be one with her.

- "Your lady is with JJ"- Derek added when Spencer started looking around. Rossi was in his office talking with Prentiss. Hotch locked in his office with Strauss, and Penelope probably in her Batcave.

- "So, pretty Ricky. Spit it"

- "Ok..."- Spencer closed his eyes for a second and tried to find the right words to tell Morgan what had happened without making (Y/N) look like a perv. That was almost impossible.

- "Ok"- Spencer repeated and opened his mouth. Nothing came from it.

- "So"- he said and held his breath. Nothing.

- "Reid, this has to be serious, 'cos I had never seen you losing your words before"

- "Well... I don't know how to tell you what happened"

- "Go straight to the facts. What happened, man?- Morgan would tell himself he was worried about his friend, but the truth was he was a nosy guy. He was way too intrigued with what had happened between Reid and (Y/N) and couldn't focus on his work.

- "I couldn't find my phone this morning, and I asked (Y/N) if I could use hers to call me"- Spencer made a pause and felt how his cheeks were already red, in a mix of anger and embarrassment.

- "Ok, and?"

- "And that's when I found out I'm dating a pervert"- Reid closed his eyes and rested his head against the desk. Morgan frowned, confused, and waited for his friend to give him more details. But Reid didn't say another word.

- "What are you talking about?"- that was all Morgan could say- "What makes you think (Y/N) is a pervert?"

- "Because she!"- Spencer looked around and whispered/yelled at his friend - "She has someone's dick as her phone background, and it ain't mine!!"

If someone earlier that day would have said to Derek: "Today, you will know the most embarrassing secret of one of your best friends", he would have never guessed that would be it.

- "Are you sure?!"- Morgan asked, whispering/yelling too, making his best not to laugh because Spencer didn't look like he was joking.

- "I am sure! I saw it! It was a dick! where did she take that picture from??! is she cheating?!"

- "No, Reid, come on. Don't panic!"- Morgan didn't know what to say, but he made his best to calm his friend down- "There's probably an explanation for it"

- "And what is it? 'cos the only logical explanation I can find is that my girlfriend is not satisfied with me. Maybe she has been looking for..."- Spencer couldn't even finish his sentence. He bit his tongue and held his breath.

- "Kid, you just have to calm down and ask (Y/N) what it's all about. I'm sure there's a logical explanation for all this. She wouldn't cheat on you. Trust me."

.

Despite his friend's words, Spencer was miserable for the rest of the day. (Y/N) and JJ kept looking for some missing files that Hotch needed to close an investigation. Meanwhile, Spencer just sat alone, didn't work at all, and all he could think of was the picture on (Y/N)'s phone. It was killing him.

When (Y/N) called him to ask if he wanted to have lunch with her, he said he wasn't hungry. When she got him a donut to cheer his day, he didn't even smile. And when she tried to kiss him, he turned around and left.

It was bad.

(Y/N) had no idea what was going on, and Spencer kept trying to avoid her. Until they bumped into each other at the hall, and (Y/N) grabbed his sleeve to stop him when he started walking away from her

- "Ok, we need to talk"

- "What about?"- Spencer looked at her, trying to calm himself down, but he couldn't. No matter how badly he tried.

- "Can you stop being a dick with me?"- and Spencer chuckled

- "That's a very interesting word you just choose, (Y/N)"

- "What are you talking about? what's your problem?"

- "You know very well what my problem is!"- but she didn't. She honestly had no idea what Spencer was talking about. And when she didn't answer, he grabbed her arm and crawled her to the storage room.

- "Spen..."

- "Whose dick is it??!"- Reid nearly shouted. His face was red in anger, and his hands were shaking.

- "What?"

- "Don't try to look all innocent! you know what I'm talking about!"

- "Spencer, I have no idea what you are talking about"- (Y/N) whispered, trying to calm him down. But it didn't work.

x- "The dick on your phone!! whose is it?!"

(Y/N) looked at her boyfriend and didn't move a muscle. She had never seen him so upset before.

- "You saw my phone's wallpaper this morning?"- she asked him calmly, and he grunted immediately.

- "If I saw it? Of course, I did! how couldn't I notice there is a picture of someone's cock on my girlfriend's phone!?"

- "Someone's"- she repeated and crossed her arms on her chest- "You think I'd have some random dick on my phone?!"

- "I don't know! you tell me!"

- "Spencer Walter Reid, you are a genius, but that doesn't stop you from being an asshole sometimes"- (Y/N) took the phone and showed him the picture- "That's you!! I accidentally set the picture as my wallpaper this morning and forgot to change it!! do you want to see the whole photo shoot to make sure that's you? 'cos you were the one who took the pictures, by the way!!"

(Y/N) looked at him, waiting for an apology, and Spencer was so embarrassed he didn't know what to do. She was right. He had taken those pictures. It all came to his mind that second.

- "Pumpkin...."

- "It's your dick, Spencer"

- "I..."- he couldn't answer

- "And you thought I had someone else's dirty pictures on my phone?"- she whispered, watching how her boyfriend's face changed from angry to shock in a second.

- "I just..."

- "What? you thought I was a pervert?"- Spencer really didn't know what to say

- "I'm so sorry"- he whispered and bit his lips- "I was a dick"

- "You were"- (Y/N) nodded and crossed her arms on her chest- "Why didn't you just ask me right away?"

- "I don't know, I was just so... mad and..."- Spencer looked down at his shoes and pouted. (Y/N) knew she should be mad at him for acting like a jerk the whole day, but she couldn't. Why? because she knew underneath it all, he was just a boy scared to be rejected.

- "Come here"- she held his hands and took a step closer to him- "Look at me, honey"- he did, for a second, and then looked away- "Eyes on me, Spencer, I need to make sure you understand what I'm about to say"

- "(Y/N), I am so sorry, I..."

- "I know you are sorry"- she whispered and leaned in, pecking his lips- "And I am not mad at you. But I need you to understand something. I love you. I don't want anybody else. Ok?"- he blushed as she kept looking at him.

- "I'm sorry"- he whispered again and leaned over, resting his forehead on hers - "I thought..."

- "You are everything I need, and everything I want, ok?"- she muttered, and he sighed- "And you should start recognizing your own dick, Spencer. I can't believe you didn't know it was yours"- (Y/N) giggled and kissed Spencer's lips again- "Maybe we should start taking more pictures."- she whispered, and Reid shook his head.

- "I don't deserve you."

- "But you are stuck with me, so deal with your perv,"- she answered and giggled- "Now give me a kiss to make it up for a shitty day"- Spencer wrapped his arms around her and kissed deeply. The kind of kiss that made her feel weak on the knees.

- "What if you teach me how to change my phone's background?"- he whispered, and (Y/N) smiled.

- "As long as I am the one taking the pictures now."

.

[simmerandwrite]

strangers - steve rogers x reader

Warnings: mentions of sexual harassment and non-consensual touching, swearing.

Word count: 4870

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: When your subway ride home takes a turn for the worst, you hope a stranger in a coffee shop will help you out.

Notes: If you saw a snippet of this the other day, here’s the full thing! I wanted to tackle some ‘in need of saving’ tropes and this just sort of happened. I’ve never posted straight up on Tumblr before but I’m a bit lacking in my experience with reader fics, so I figured this was a good place to share it. no beta, any mistakes are my own! If you like it, let me know - thanks for reading!

—

Steve Rogers liked his days off. Not that he had a set schedule week to week anyway but when things aligned correctly, he could do whatever he wanted. No world saving, no training, no report writing, no meetings.

He had scoped out a small little coffee shop in Brooklyn where he liked to spend these quiet afternoons. Usually with a book in hand (he had so many books to catch up on) or some music loaded to his phone (Nat was currently educating him on 90s punk rock) or a notebook and pencil. People watching served as wonderful inspiration to sketch.

He sipped his cappuccino, eyes tipped downward at the book ahead of him on the table. He was interrupted just moments later as someone dropped into the chair across from him.

Now, Steve wasn’t intentionally hiding out at this hole-in-the-wall cafe. But he did put on his laughable disguise still - a beaten up Yankees cap and his prescription-less thick framed glasses. He liked the anonymity. That didn’t always stop people from recognizing him.

As he opened his mouth to question the person who was suddenly joining him for coffee, she slid her phone across the table to him. Her hand shook. His eyebrows flexed into a curious frown as he looked at the screen displaying a plainly typed note:

‘Do you mind if I sit someone is following me home sorry to disturb you’

—

As if your day hadn’t been absolutely terrible enough, you spotted the gremlin of a man on the subway watching you again. You knew he worked somewhere in the same office building as you because he always trailed a few paces behind you when pushing through the revolving doors in the lobby. It wasn’t uncommon to see the same people on the same subway line at the same time every day, but this man’s presence had become an unwanted downside.

He was always there. Worse than that, he seemed to be always watching you. Today, it was even more obvious that he was following you.

When that thought first occurred to you, it had been really easy to shrug off. He was just a guy taking the subway. But when he happened to be on the later train with you one day, an uncomfortable feeling settled in your stomach.

And now, as the car was filling up even more after the second stop in DUMBO, he had moved to stand and put himself even closer to you.

You had been going through so many Next Steps. God, that phrase was the bane of your existence. Next steps, next steps..

Maybe you could tell him to fuck off. You could make an appointment with Leanna in HR and see if there is a way to figure out the name of this guy - though he didn’t work for your company so that was likely going to be a dead end. You could start taking the bus to the village before grabbing the train. Maybe you could Uber home some days instead of taking the subway. Not that you could afford that but this guy was..

You stiffened immediately.

This guy was touching you. In the midst of the crowded subway car, he was pressed against you entirely. And was he.. His hips were moving against your leg and.. Wait, that was two hands on your hips now.. Hot breath whispered against your neck and -

Fuck.

You threw yourself through the mob as the train came to a stop. With hurried feet you ran onto the platform and up the stairs, doing your best to weave through the flow of people, like a fish trying to make it upstream. You tried not to be obvious but as you snapped your head over your shoulders to look back, you saw him there again.

He was smirking. No, snarling.

Next steps, next steps.

You joined a sea of people crossing the street, taking your first left to try and steer yourself into a particular direction. You were still a far walk from your apartment but with this man on your heels, you didn’t want to lead him anywhere near there.

You grabbed your phone from your jacket pocket, unlocking it quickly and scrolling through the contacts. Surely there had to be someone you could call but even then, what could they do? Offer advice?

It didn’t occur to you until then but would it be valuable to call the cops?

Despite the late day sunlight, you suddenly felt very aware of the emptiness of the sidewalk on that side street. You needed to be around people. It definitely wasn’t logical to be anywhere near alone with this guy and -

It sounded like his footsteps were getting closer. With a panicked gulp, you yanked on the door of a little hole-in-the-wall cafe. Your eyes scanned the space quickly once you were inside. You probably shouldn’t sit alone, you couldn’t run to the bathroom if you aren’t sure where it is or if you needed a key. There were too many variables.

You needed something. Next steps..

You spotted someone sitting at a small table near the window and without thinking, you sent out a silent prayer to whoever might be listening and you rushed over. The man was clearly alone, a half consumed ceramic mug of coffee sitting to the right of his book.

Swallowing hard, you quickly typed on your phone and slid it across the table to him after you sat. You tried your best to stay very calm and hoped that he would play along. God, what if he didn’t play along and -

Behind you, the door chimed once more and you desperately wanted to see if it was that man - if the gremlin had followed you inside. You clasped your hands together in your lap and forced a smile on as you looked at the stranger sitting across from you.

Despite not knowing him, there was a familiarity about his appearance. Behind his thick glasses, soft blue eyes searched you carefully. His eyes flicked to the screen once more, stiffening in his chair as he looked past you towards the rest of the cafe.

With his right hand, he reached into the inside pocket of his coat and took out a small notebook and a pen. He scribbled something quickly and turned the page towards you.

Are you hurt?

You shook your head quickly. He offered you a tight smile and wrote once more.

Buzzcut, grey jacket?

Your eyes blew open wide and you tilted your head into a nod.

I’m Steve

He flipped the notebook closed and extended his hand across the table, palm facing up. He leaned forward just slightly, meeting your eyes with a reassuring smile. “Play along.”

Your eyes flicked to his hand and you slowly unclamped your own, grabbing his on the table instead. He was doing an impressive job splitting his attention between you and his surroundings, eyes scanning the room. He squeezed your hand very gently, brushing his thumb against your knuckles.

“Tell me about your day.”

You sucked in a hard breath. You weren’t entirely sure what his strategy was but something told you this guy was in your corner. Though despite that, you could feel another set of eyes on you.

“Uh,” you started quietly, letting the air escape your lungs. “Surprisingly, I didn’t think it could get worse before I got on the subway after work. I had a review meeting that was not great and we had a free catered lunch that was not vegetarian friendly. Missed an important email and deadline and… well, here I am whining about it and interrupting your day. Listen, I’m going to-

You moved to stand up but Steve shook his head, grasping your hand. “Give it a few more minutes, I think he’ll give up and leave.”

His words were casual but had an authoritative tone. Once more his eyes left you, looking towards the front of the cafe. He raised his free hand and motioned to one of the baristas. You weren’t certain if this was the type of place who served people at their seats but clearly he had a comfortable rapport as the young girl approached with a warm smile on her face.

“Hey Tia, could I get another?”

“Anything for you?” The barista turned her head as she asked, pony tail moving from side to side.

“Uhm.” You paused and thought. You certainly had no desire to even consider a coffee order when you felt someone’s linger gaze boring into you. “A decaf con panna, if that’s possible.” The girl confirmed it was with a nod then left the table side.

“Con panna?” Steve’s lips pulled into a curious smirk. Something about his smile calmed you.

“Espresso with whipped cream on top,” you answered. “Short and sweet.”

“I’ll have to try that next time.”

Steve sure had a soothing smile. When his thumb stopped tracing against your palm - when did that even start? - you felt an empty sadness about the loss. Wow, what did that even say about your standards when a stranger was brushing his thumb against your hand that you were so grateful for? Well, it was a thousand times better than someone rubbing his -

You winced at the memory, biting down as you clutched your bottom lip between your teeth. Though that shameful feeling hadn’t disappeared, you managed to keep it at bay. But now, it seemed to have left an image you were unable to blink away.

The sweet smell of whipped cream and the shuffling of paper cups broke you from your trance. You reached for your bag to fish out a few dollars but when you looked up, Steve was waving a hand to stop you.

It’s not that you didn’t appreciate his kindness. You did. You really, really did. But given the last half hour, you still had a hard time settling your nervous mind.

“Thanks, Tia.” Steve’s eyes were jumping around the place as the barista grabbed the cash he offered. A loud stomp of footsteps drew their attention as the Subway Gremlin saddled up beside the table.

“Sorry to be a bother, darlin’ - any chance I can borrow your phone?”

You couldn’t help but look at him. Though his words were directed at the barista, he made a point to glance over at you.

You felt Steve’s hands grip yours. When you looked towards him, his eyes were very carefully watching the man. How did he manage to -

“Sorry, we don’t have a dedicated line available to customers.” Tia politely shook her head, pointing towards the door. “There’s a CityBank up the street that can help you, I’m sure.” She shrugged and headed back to the coffee counter.

The man stood still, opening his mouth to argue.

Steve sat back, shoulders broad and steady. “Did you need directions there? I think it’s just two blocks. Maybe 500 paces.” His tone was flat. “Just out the door and you’ll be on your way.”

You kept your eyes on Steve. He kept his stare directed at the man. Finally, after what felt like hours of waiting, the man moved his feet. He turned on his heel, though not before stopping to look at you again.

“I will see you tomorrow, dar-

Steve released your hand and pushed his chair back, standing quickly and grasping the man’s shoulder.

Steve towered over him. “You have five seconds.” The man pulled away from Steve’s grip then finally stomped away. You kept your eyes tightly shut until you heard the chime of the bell indicating the movement of the door. Then, you collapsed onto your arms on the edge of the table.

Steve, meanwhile, headed to the door and kept watch for a few more moments to ensure the man actually departed from the area. Then, he stopped at the counter and exchanged a few words with Tia before returning you.

You were still doing your best to encourage the floor to open up and swallow you whole. How had this even escalated? The worst part was your mind seemed clouded with doubt. This man, you hadn’t even interacted with him before. Why was he suddenly so invested in you? To a point where he might follow you home? Were you just another target or had this been intentional?

You considered yourself a fairly observant person and yet..

You twisted your hands together in your lap and tried to consider what was going to happen now. Next steps, next steps..

“Hey.” Steve returned to his chair. Your eyes flicked up towards him, noticing he was sliding a bottle of water towards you. Your sad little espresso and whipped cream treat was deflated next to it. “Are you okay?”

You reached for the water bottle, twisting the cap open and taking a long drink. “I don’t know.” Chewing on your bottom lip, you shook your head. “No, actually. I’m not. It somehow feels like my skin is on fire and my lungs are failing me and I’m sweaty but I’m not and - and -

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” Steve spoke so calmly and evenly. “Just take a slow breath with me, okay?” You closed your eyes once more and followed his instructions as he walked you through a few breathing exercises. “That’s great, you’re doing great-

When he stopped speaking so quickly, you opened one eye to look over at him. His cheeks were a warm shade of pink and his mouth was twisted into a frown. “What?”

“It just occurred to me I didn’t get your name.” He paused, as if to consider his next thought. “Although, given what just happened with that man, you are under no obligation to tell me anything about yourself. I just.. I’d like to help.”

His genuine concern for you was surprising. You allowed a small smile to stretch across your face. “You’re very nice, Steve.”

You gave him your name and he smiled back, repeating it to himself. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Your smile turned downwards when you looked towards your phone. “I should probably get going. Again, I’m really sorry for dragging you into this mess but I appreciate the… solace.” You took a deep breath and pushed your chair back, pausing to tip the lukewarm espresso into your mouth. “I owe you one.”

You winced when you heard yourself and sighed. Why did you say that? This stranger, this friendly, broad shouldered, tall, handsome stranger who’s day you interrupted, did not need your weird backhanded flirting. In fact, even though every signal in your brain seemed on edge after, well, everything, the only thing that seemed to ground you now was the kindness of Steve. So you tried to will yourself not to ruin it with any additional commentary.

You weren’t entirely sure what had driven you down this particular street into this particular cafe and towards this particular man. But, you were certainly grateful. “Actually, do they have gift cards here? I’d love to buy you one to say thank you and -

“Are you going to walk? Wherever you’re going right now?” When you looked over, you saw that Steve had stood, too. You saw his eyes move towards the door and the far windows up the street where the man from the subway had gone. “I don’t want to overstep but I hope you’ll let me walk you home. Or far enough away to have cleared his radar.”

“I feel like I’ve already wasted enough of your time, Steve.” You truly felt worse and worse for interrupting his afternoon.

“Please, I insist.” Steve tilted his head, half a smirk on his lips. “You just said you owe me one, so. I’m cashing in the favour.”

“The favour repayment you’re cashing in is.. you doing me another favour? Do you know how favours are supposed to work?” Admittedly, you knew you would feel a lot safer having someone walk home with you. And something about Steve made you feel very secure, his presence like a comforting shield.

“C’mon,” Steve replied with a laugh, nudging his head towards the door.

When you stepped onto the sidewalk, you stopped to think. “Let’s go this way.” You turned to the right and Steve followed, staying on your shoulder closest to the street. You walked in a comfortable silence - which made you nervous at first. Then, as your steps fell into a pattern, the quiet soothed you.

You pushed your hands into the pockets of your jacket as you turned down the next block. You looked over at Steve, who turned his head towards you as you shifted. “You didn’t ask anything else about the man.. Who followed me.”

A quiet hum came from Steve. “I didn’t think I should. You seemed shaken up enough.” He shrugged, peering down at you through his glasses. “If you want to talk about it..”

“I work in this big office building in Midtown. The Clifton building?”

Steve motioned his hand diagonally. “Little bagel place downstairs? That’s right down from The Avengers tower, isn’t it?”

You nodded along. Right. Stark Tower was The Avengers Tower, now. It was the most iconic landmark on that block. “Yes. Actually, I work on the 40th floor, which makes for a great angle to see Iron Man coming in.” Your smile was fleeting when you continued on. “It’s a huge building. I work in human resources for this pharmaceutical company.. But there’s a law firm in there, too. Insurance companies, start ups.. Hundreds of people in and out all day long. Yet, that man on the subway has managed to..” You stopped yourself before your chest got too tight. “Let’s just say I’ve seen him around before.”

“Do you know his name?”

“That’s the thing!” You couldn’t help but laugh now, shaking your head in dumbfounded confusion. “No. I have no idea who he is. But he often gets on the same subway line as me, watches me from across the crowd then today..” You stopped and dragged a hand down your face. “It’s a sad truth but I would say most of my friends have been.. Touched inappropriately on the subway before. I guess it’s a weird right of passage or something..”

“Wait - what?” Steve stopped in his tracks and reached his hand out to grab yours. You stopped and looked up at his eyes, somehow both soft and dark with concern. “He touched you? What do you mean?”

You raised an eyebrow, wondering if his ask was authentic. When you saw the disappointment in his face, eyes flooded with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint, you realized his reaction was genuine. You opened your mouth to explain but suddenly it seemed impossible to find the words.

Steve let go of your hand as he absorbed your lack of response and reached for his phone. “You can file a police report, right?”

“No, no.” You stopped him, placing your hand on his as he held his phone. “Trust me, that’s just paperwork that goes nowhere. Without the guy's name, absolutely nothing would come from it anyway.” You shook your head. “It’s fine, really. I might just adjust my work hours and change my route home for a few weeks. Maybe he’ll give up.”

Steve muttered something to himself, shaking his head. His face shifted from concern to something else, like his brain was working on a different trail of thoughts. He spoke your name quietly, drawing your attention to him again. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Steve’s kindness was a strange contrast to the entire experience on the subway. How one man could have such questionable intentions while another apologizes with sincerity for it was nearly jarring. Although, it did suddenly occur to you that Steve was just as much of a stranger.

“The worst part is.. men like that sever any opportunity for trust in other people. Especially blind trust. Like me telling you, a stranger, where I work and walking you to where I live. Funny enough though - every wire in my brain should be telling me not to and how it was a bad idea but.. I guess there is something about you.”

Steve sucked in a breath, eyes wide as he considered his response. “When you walked into the coffee shop, you could have asked the barista for help or tried to hide out in the bathroom. But you sat next to me instead. How come?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. Like I said, there's just something about you, Steve.”

You walked in silence again, feet falling into a pattern once more. The sky was growing darker, the air cooler. After crossing the street again, you looked at him. “How do you feel about Prezio being traded to the Orioles?” You reached out and tipped up the brim of his Yankees hat. “A tragedy, right?”

A quiet laugh escaped him as he tipped his head. “I think it was a huge mistake. Don’t you think we’ve had a hard enough year as it is?” Your silence was filled with baseball talk instead and it seemed to put both of you at ease.

“This is me.” You stopped outside of a short apartment complex, pointing a thumb to the door.

Steve smiled, one hand in the pocket of his jacket as he studied you. Was this it? After the wild rollercoaster of emotions you had spilled onto him in the last hour, parting with nothing else seemed empty. Lacking. He opened his mouth and closed it, once then twice.

Finally, you cut in. “Thanks again, Steve. Really. If you hadn’t played along and scared him away.. well, I’m not sure where I would be right now. It means a lot that you cared enough about a stranger to make sure I was safe.”

Steve sighed out your name. “I’m sorry your barometer for kindness is so low.”

You sighed. “Yeah, me too.” Part of you wanted to do something. Say something else. Linger a tiny bit longer. But your feet shuffled and your hand reached for the door. “Have a good night, Steve.”

—

“I need a favour.”

“Well, good morning to you, sunshine. Did you lock yourself out of your computer again? FRIDAY can help with that.”

“Tony, this is serious.”

“Okay, okay. I recognize that scowl. How can I help you?”

“If I provided you some video footage from a security camera, can we track someone down? Figure out who they are? For full transparency, it’s just a civilian.”

“Sounds like we’re operating outside of the law, Rogers. Can you provide me with more context? I don’t mind the grey area - I just like the drama, too.”

Steve sighed, then reluctantly explained himself. The cafe. Your panicked message. The stalker of a man. The way you dismissed it all as a normal, unfortunate side effect of existing as a woman. His barista friend provided him with camera footage but he wasn’t sure it was enough.

Tony pinched between his eyes. “Men are scum. And I say that as someone in the practice of trying to be better. Recovering scum, if you will. I’ll see what I can do. FRIDAY, how quietly can we get into the security database at the Clifton building?”

—

Although you hadn’t lied to Steve, it occurred to you on your journey home that your guard should remain up. Which is why you had actually allowed him to walk you to your aunt’s apartment, instead of your own. She was happy to see you burst through the door and insisted you stay for dinner. That was a tiny silver lining to the whole mess.

The next day though, the thought of going into work was suffocating. So you opted to spend the day working from home instead, which your boss had been agreeable to, at least. One day rolled into two and you successfully avoided the office building until the following Monday. But then, you needed a plan. Next steps, next steps.

You took an Uber to the office early and left late at the end of the day, leaving out the back stairway and crossing a few blocks to take a different subway line home. It was unfortunate you had to cater your life to the chance you would run into this goon again, but your sense of security was slowly returning. That had to count for something.

Things shifted later that week. There was a sudden new policy sent out to all the staff in your office outlining new building ownership and training about sexual harassment policies.

“It’s a long time coming,” you heard someone mutter out in the elevator as you headed down towards the lobby.

“Guess Tony Stark just wants to own the whole block,” their coworker chirped back, pulling to loosen his tie.

There was even more commotion when you exited the elevator and walked towards the large glass doors. A team of NYPD officers were standing outside, shoving someone in the back of their cruiser. Your eyes narrowed. You couldn’t be certain but from that angle, you certainly recognized the bad buzzcut. Your eyes darted around the lobby anxiously and across the room, a small crowd of suits and officers had formed near..

Tony Stark, himself.

Before you could even try to understand what was going on, you heard someone calling your name. You turned your head and saw someone who looked a lot like -

“Steve?” You took a few steps towards him, pausing to glance from him back at Tony Stark and.. “Oh my god. You’re Steve Rogers. Why didn’t you say something?”

Captain America had walked you home. Hidden behind glasses and a hat. And you always considered yourself observant.

Steve just smirked, shrugging a shoulder. “I didn’t think it was important.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Should I be thanking you for all of this chaos?”

Steve furrowed his brow in mock confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, maybe I’m extrapolating here but the same day my subway stalker gets taken away in cuffs, Stark Industries buys out this building and mandates a new policy and code of conduct.”

Steve pursed his lips, swallowing back a mischievous smirk. “Here’s the thing. It occurred to me that your best choice of action after that day was changing your entire life to avoid that man. And I couldn’t help but think about how broken that system was.”

You sighed. It had occurred to you, too. While you were relieved to shake the man from your trail, your mind considered he would probably turn his attention to someone else. And that wouldn’t be fair.

“Well, Cap. Job well done. That scum of a man had priors in Jersey, too.” Tony Stark himself had walked to where you and Steve stood. His hand clapped on Steve’s shoulder. “You’re at least going to ask her out, right? I mean, I bought an entire building for you - make a move, pal.”

Steve flushed pink and you couldn’t help but do the same.

“I’m getting a bagel. You want a bagel?” Tony raised an eyebrow from you to Steve again, smiling proudly.

“I’m good. I recommend the poppy seed though!” You called as Tony flitted away, narrowly avoiding a proper looking blonde woman who seemed very tired.

You turned your attention back to Steve. “He seems like a lot.”

“He is.” Steve nodded, motioning his hand. “I know it’s only one thing, maybe a ripple in making a difference but.. I’m hoping one less inappropriate person on the subway can give you peace of mind.”

You smiled again. Though you had seen many appearances by Captain America on the news, seeing the man in person was different. It seemed Steve Rogers walked the walk. After parting ways with him before, though he had crossed your mind, you didn’t anticipate your menial issues leading to this.

“Thanks. Really. Even one person makes a difference.” You reached out and touched his arm. “Thank you, Steve.”

“I’m sorry about Tony, though. His comments about asking you out and.. that certainly wasn’t my goal here.”

“I don’t know. You just did me a huge favour getting rid of that gremlin. I think I owe you.”

Steve caught your cheeky smile and stood up a bit straighter. “Well, in that case, the Yankees are playing the Sox tomorrow night. Tony never uses his tickets and the seats aren’t half bad. What do you say?”

“You’re cashing in this favour to take me on a date? Usually people ask for help moving or a ride to the airport or something.” You let out a dramatic sigh. “Sure. I guess you can take me to the game, Steve. If you ask politely, I’ll probably even hold your hand.”

After work the next day, Steve met you outside and you took the subway together to the stadium. You knew this wasn’t the end of it for you or anyone else worried about their personal boundaries being crossed. But, as you gripped the subway pole and your fingers grazed against Steve’s, you could finally breathe again. For the first time in a while, you weren’t anticipating next steps.

It was just you and the kind stranger from the coffee shop.

[isthisthingeven0n]

the list : d.d

brief summary: you grew up with david, and he always wanted there to be more than just friendship between you both. however, now adults and david is dating someone else, you coming back into his life causes him to have doubts about what he wants. (1.8k)

requested: yes by the sweetest anon, i hope you like the outcome!  warnings: none that i’m aware of 

all my links

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK - IT IS ALL MY OWN WRITING

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” You call out as you gather your things in the kitchen, your back turned to the guys as David sighs quietly to himself.

Ilya can’t help but roll his eyes at David’s lovesick expression that remains plastered across his face whenever you’re around. “Dave,” Ilya slaps his chest, causing David to snap out of his trance.

“No!” David blurts out, and you turn around quickly.

“Okay,” You nervously chuckle, thinking nothing of it as you head towards the front door. “I’ll see you later.”

With that, you close the door behind you, and David groans loudly as he buries his face into his hands whilst Ilya and Zane share a knowing look.

“Dude, you gotta get it together.” Ilya states as David shakes his head in his hands. “It’s only Y/n, we’ve known her since High School.”

“That’s the problem,” David mumbles. “it’s Y/n.”

It was true, David had known you for many years but for at least half of them he was sort of (most definitely) in love with you whilst you remained oblivious to it. He grew up alongside you as you had boyfriends, was the shoulder for you to cry on after a breakup and one of your best friends. Yet, David always wished he could’ve been something more.

There had been moments between you both, flickers of something more than just friendship, but nothing came of them.

Yet, David had moved on and was happy. At least, he thinks he’s happy until you walk into any room he’s in with your bright smile and joyful laughter; before he realises David’s back in High school, pining after his best friend.

“Look, David, you have a girlfriend.” Zane states, knowing Taylor is out of town currently. “You can’t be drooling over Y/n like this.”

“I know, I just,” David sighs as he thinks of you, knowing he should think of Taylor in that way. “whenever she’s around I just forget any other girl exists, and I just want to be with her.”

Ilya rolls his eyes once more. “God you need help.” He mutters as he rises to his feet, clapping his hands together as both David and Zane look up.

“What are you talking about?” Natalie speaks up as she walks through into the open space with Todd by her side.

“About David and Y/n.” Zane motions to David who simply shrugs his shoulders meekly at Natalie’s raised brow.

“She finally tell you then?” Todd smiles brightly, unaware of Natalie’s eyes widening. “Why’re you all looking at me like that?” Todd asks as wide eyes stare at him from across the room. “Oh no.” He mutters.

“Oh no is right.” Natalie remarks.

“Y/n likes David?” Ilya asks, sounding astounded by the idea as he looks over at David and back to Natalie. “You sure?”

Natalie sighs before nodding. “She has for a while now,” Natalie starts, and David falls back down into the sofa, his mind dazing over in shock as Natalie continues. “but then David started dating Taylor, so she felt like her chance was gone.”

“Okay,” Ilya begins pacing around the room. “so, Y/n likes David, David likes Y/n, but David also likes Taylor.”

“Thank you Captain Obvious.” Natalie mutters. “Look, David, you gotta sort this.”

“But how?” David asks weakly as he looks around at his friends before Ilya’s face lights up.

“I’ve got an idea.” Ilya smirks as he rushes out of the room, returning with the portable whiteboard. “We make a pros and cons list.” He suggests, ignoring Natalie shaking her head.

“Ilya, that is a terrible idea.” She tells him, but Ilya chalks it up on the board instead.

“Actually, it might not be that bad.” David comments, now standing up as he approaches the whiteboard and twiddles the pen in his fingertips as he eyes the pros and cons list. “If I can think of more cons, then I’ll know she isn’t right for me and Taylor is.”

“Your logic is so fucked.” Todd looks down to Natalie who remains silent, hoping that something will come of this for everyone’s sake.

*

Exhaling deeply, David stands back as he admires the board completely covered in the pros and cons of possibly dating you. “I never realised there could be so many.” David half laughs, now feeling more conflicted than ever before.

“Yeah, this is way harder than I anticipated.” Ilya comments, resting his hands on his hips. “Anyway, wanna order food?”

David nods as he walks out from the room, going to grab his phone whilst Ilya heads into the bathroom.

Both remain unaware as the front door opens, and you walk in with bags in hand. “God, it was crazy out there.” You huff, placing the bags on the kitchen counter. “Even though you said you didn’t want anything, I got you guys Starbucks!” You call out, picking up your drink as you notice the whiteboard out and covered in writing.

You can’t help but be intrigued by the board, and as you read over it, your heart drops. The board is about you, your pros and cons in David’s eyes.

“Y/n,” Ilya speaks up softly, emerging from the bathroom as he sees you standing there, trying to force back tears in your eyes as you remain still, gaze fixated on the board. “I can explain, we can explain.” Ilya starts, but you hold your hand up, silencing him.

“Ilya, I ordered pizza from-” David’s voice becomes closer until he’s stood metres from you and his smile drops instantly. “Shit.” He mutters. “Y/n, I, you weren’t supposed to see this.”

A light scoff leaves your lips as you step backwards, glaring to David. “Gee, I wonder why.” You retort. “You’re unbelievable David.” Your voice softens as you turn around, grabbing your bags from the counter and leave without saying another word, too afraid of your own voice and what will be said.

“Fuck!” David yells, gripping his hair in his fists as he groans loudly. “How could you do this to me, Ilya?!” David shifts the blame to Ilya who stares, utterly dumbfounded.

“I wasn’t the one who wrote the fucking list, David.” Ilya reminds David. “You gotta talk to her, man.”

“I,” David starts, but Ilya stops him.

“No, I mean right now.” Ilya states firmly, pointing to the front door. “Go, you idiot!”

Without needing to be told a third time, David jogs over to his front door, opening it and thankfully, you’re still loading your shopping back into the car as you wipe your eyes repeatedly.

“What, David? You wanna tell me about my pros and cons?” You speak up, slamming your boot shut as you near your car door.

“No, I, I wanna explain, as it wasn’t fair you saw that. It wasn’t something you should ever have seen really.” David begins to try and explain, but seeing you so upset, it causes his mind to fall apart. “Y/n, I, I know we’ve always been friends, and I’ve always cared about you- which you knew already.”

“Thought I did.” You mumble to yourself, causing your heart to ache even more.

“But I gave up the possibility of us ever being together a while ago, and then I met Taylor.” David tries to sound happy about his relationship, that it’s a good thing that he moved on. “Before I knew it I was swept up in this new relationship, and then you came back from your trip, and my feelings kinda dug themselves back up and you’re all I can think about.” He half laughs, realising how ridiculous it all sounds.

“David, don’t, please.” You tell him, now opening your car door as you lean against it, but David simply steps closer.

“Y/n, I can’t help how I feel about you, and I know you feel the same.” A nervous smile crosses his lips as you stare blankly at him. “Todd told us, and that’s kinda what caused all this. We were trying to figure a way of trying to decide if we should date, and it was so fucking dumb as I already know you, and I know you’re close enough to perfect.” David laughs light-heartedly. “And I’m so sorry I hurt you Y/n, just please, give me a chance?”

Silence falls between you both as you remain lost in thought. And then, you break it as you exhale quietly. “You’ve got Taylor, David. I can’t do that to her.” You force a small smile, ignoring the tears that fall down your cheeks. “Maybe we just weren’t to ever be.” You chuckle, forcing back pain in your voice as you climb into your car.

“Taylor broke up with me.” David blurts out, just as you’re about to close your car door.

“What?” You ask, staring up at him as he stands in front of your door.

Lowering his gaze, David tries to keep himself composed. “She broke up with me before she left. She knew something wasn’t right  between us and didn’t want it to carry on and get messy.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” You can’t help but ponder over why he never spoke up, listening along with stories as you all sat together in his house and would leave to speak with her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because all I want to do is kiss you, Y/n.” David admits. “I want to be there with you in the mornings, make breakfast or try to at least. Sing shitty songs in the car and film dumb TikTok's together. I just wanna be beside you, and finally, let myself love you after all these years.” David confesses, feeling a weight lifting off his heart as he finally looks at you, seeing you focusing back at him.

“Wow.” You breathe out, now rising to your feet as you move past your car door, closing it as you stand in front of David. “You actually love me?”

David laughs quietly. “I think I always have, weird right?”

“Super weird.” You chuckle. “But kinda cool, cause I think I’ve always loved you too.”

“Oh,” David stumbles over his thoughts, as you lift your hand up, resting it on his shoulder. “that’s pretty cool. So er, what now?” He asks.

Running your hand along his shoulder, you move your fingers across to the back of his neck. “This is usually the part where you kiss me.” You mutter, smiling shyly to him as he nods.

“I think I can do that.” He whispers before resting his arm around your waist, tugging you closer into his embrace as his lips ghost yours. “I love you.” He breathes out as his lips part.

“I love you too.” You mumble back, finally allowing yourself to open up after all these years, never thinking dreams could come true.

[hes-writer]

The Tarnish Series - Complete

Summary: y/n finds a letter that isn’t meant for her

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of vomiting and nausea, mentions of implied smut, mentions of drunk driving, angst in the beginning, angst in the middle, angst near the end, time skip of 2.5 years and slight fluff

Word Count: 32.3k words

A/N: a repost of my collab with @devilinbetweenthesheet-s​ so you can find all the series parts in one post! p.s the word ‘thought’ was used 72 times

DISCLAIMER: this is not an accurate description of who Harry/Camille are in real life. this is purely fictional for the purpose of entertainment. 

It was one of those days where Y/N had a sudden itching in her body to clean. Not just her closet, or her and Harry’s room--but the entire fricking house. The size of their shared home was ridiculous. There were many times when Y/N suggested moving into a smaller home, a cozy house with just enough rooms to hold them and an unexpected guest for the rest of their nights. It led to numerous fights about how Harry felt like she was dictating how to spend his hard-earned money, but they all ended in mushy hugs and soft-spoken apologies.

Y/N learned how to wake up in an empty house. The sudden chill raised goosebumps on her skin as she walked into the home studio Harry had installed a few months after buying the mansion. He felt as though he would be more productive knowing that he didn’t have to travel when inspiration struck. Harry was a bit private with the room, opting to not have anyone else in there unless he was present; not even Y/N. She understood that he needed something that was just for him. Living in the spotlight surely strips an individual out of their humanity and presented in a cookie-cutter way as if he was perfect. All his childhood memories were simply origin stories--a life he once lived before it changed forever. Now, he was Harry Styles the singer/songwriter, actor, host, and situational comedian.

Despite the voice at the back of her head practically screaming at her to not enter, Y/N was stubborn enough to ignore it. It was the last room she had yet to clean and she wanted to feel accomplished knowing that she was productive today. Y/N hummed mindlessly, twisting the knob before pushing it open. The lights flickered on to dim lighting, the clear glass reflecting a subdued figure of her as the glowing bulbs highlighted the expensive instruments littering the room.

Y/N puffed her cheeks out as she inspected the space. It wasn’t as messy as she had expected, only a few crumpled pieces of paper probably thrown out of frustration beside the trash can, the couch and the mechanic board. She rolled her eyes at Harry’s tendency to not clean up, especially after scratching ideas that weren’t good enough. He didn't want to give those a second thought.

As she approached the coffee table in front of the sofa, Y/N couldn’t help but notice one of the many leather-bound journals that Harry kept to scribble his thoughts and ideas into. A sharp corner of a crisp envelope was buried beneath it.

My love.

Y/N raised her brow at the cursive lettering on the back, assuming that it was her for her. She should have known better when she caught sight of the stamp at the left-hand corner, ready to be mailed but her excitement overshadowed the looming truth, gently raising the flap to pull the handwritten letter out.

My love,

    I hope you find this letter well. I apologize for acting like such an old man, sending a letter by post instead of living in the modern age of instant messaging.

She chuckled at the words Harry wrote. He really did have an interesting sense of humour.

    First of all, I’d like to thank you for sticking with me throughout our relationship. I know that we’ve had our ups and downs but I wouldn’t have anyone to spend it with aside from you, my love. I’m away too much—I know. I leave for work to see the world, to see the fans while sharing them a piece of myself. But I could never forget giving a piece of myself to you. You absolutely have my whole heart in the palm of your hands’.

Y/N blushed at his confession. She felt a little guilty for reading without his explicit permission but there was no doubt in her head that he was getting the best treatment as soon as he walks through the front door. Y/N couldn’t believe how lucky she was for finding a man like Harry willing to be so open and vulnerable with his feelings.

    The times at the cafe where we read together, sipping on our coffees and I’d catch your eyes staring at me.

She sighed dreamily, picturing his forest green eyes in her head. The intensity that he wore whenever he observed made a flush appear on her cheeks and butterflies to go haywire in her stomach. It was what they had done during his break. Starting a book club with him made the actual book interesting because he read to her in the softest voice and asked her what she thought when a character seemingly has done something out of the blue.

    The Beachwood Cafe will always have a special place in my heart.

That was the moment when anxiety struck her like a bolt of lightning; quick to change the enchanted feeling in her heart and replacing it with fear. Harry talked about the cafe with such adoration that Y/N requested for him to bring her there one day. They haven’t done so yet.

Y/N bit her lip nervously, gnawing at the skin despite applying lip scrub on it the night prior. The organ in her chest pounded with each syllable sticking to her tongue as she silently whispered along. Hands shaking with passing seconds, Y/N almost did not want to let her eyes drift to the bottom of the page, fearing that what she feared would stare at her straight in the face.

    I’m finally ready to face my fears of telling her that our relationship isn’t working out. I know that we have both been wanting it to be just us for a while.

She repeated the statement over and over, trying to make sense of who he was talking about. Was it their relationship? It couldn’t be because that would mean that Harry was being unfaithful. Was he cheating on her? Y/N’s mind was dizzy with thoughts being fired back and forth. The impulsive side of her was dead set on confronting Harry about this letter but the logical pair wanted to reach the end of the letter before making an assumption. She couldn’t just start a fight based on a misunderstanding; that was one of the things that Harry hated about his exes. They were too easily manipulated by the media to immediately doubt him when the tiniest rumour rose. But this letter was written right from Harry’s hand, his pen lying innocently on the table beside the journal.

    You're the love of my life, Camille. I promise I'll end it with Y/N soon. We're meant to be, I truly believe it. I love you so much.

Petrified. If there was one word to describe the lump building in her throat and the churning of her stomach going awry; it was petrified. The sinking feeling as if her esophagus was stretched to its extent, swallowing a chunk of realization down her throat to the pit of her stomach swelling in nausea and nervousness.

Four years, Harry and Y/N have been together. There was no doubt in her mind that she loves him dearly, dreaming of a life that they would share in the future. He wanted it with someone else. He was building it with someone else. Y/N released a sob from her soft lips, her breath hitching as she tried to calm down. Talk to him first, she reminded herself. But what was there to talk about? Y/N had evidence in her hand that he was still speaking to Camille (Did he even stop?). That Harry was going to leave her, that he was cheating on Y/N.

Y/N had a plan in case this happened to her. She has watched way too many movies and snickered at the way the character always seemed to let the news of a cheating partner break their whole being. And she would like to apologize to them right now because she understood exactly the type of weight smashed unto her shoulders; too heavy to lift up by herself and it seemed as if she was crushed, watching Harry walk away from them; from her.

The words appeared to jump out of the page, especially her name. Camille. Written so prettily as if Harry took the time to pen her name with such carefulness and design. Y/N wanted to projectile vomit from her discovery but she couldn’t leave a mess in his fancy studio. And God, she hated herself right now for thinking about how Harry would react when her world was crumbling around her.

    I’m leaving Y/N. We can finally be together and I wouldn’t have to worry about getting caught, Camille. I’m sorry that it’s taken me such a long time. I’ve kept you waiting for me but your patience is something that I greatly appreciate.

With her heart rate picking up, Y/N’s hand shook as she struggled to fold the letter properly as if she never saw it. One glance at the paper showed dotted streaks of wetness and only then did she realize the tears lathering her cheeks. Her cornea stung slightly, sensitive to the air as she blinked hard to will her tears back in. How long has this been going on?

“Y/N!?” Harry’s husky shout of her name boomed from the entrance. The large interior reverberating his voice, yet she failed to hear.

Harry quickly walked to the studio to retrieve the letter he was supposed to mail out today before he came home. Unfortunately, he forgot it in the midst of rushing after a slow-session of love-making with Y/N between the sheets early this morning.

Y/N did not know who’s heartbeat was thumping in her ears; hers or Harry. His lids peeled back to showcase surprise and horror plastered on his lips in the shape of an ‘o’. Harry could only hope that Y/N hadn’t gotten too far in reading the private letter. However, the way she rejected to meet his gaze after catching the guilty expression of his features; it was too late.

“Baby, please,” He whispered, the humming of the mechanic board switched on from last night’s session. Y/N shook her head, refusing to hear a bullshit apology spewing out of his mouth in a word vomit of ‘sorry’s’ and ‘i didn’t mean to’ because if he didn’t, why did he do it in the first place?

She walked past him, flinching as her shoulder brushed his and a gasp fell out of her mouth. Y/N didn’t know what to do but she knew that she wasn't to be surrounded by the one person who she thought would never hurt her. Long strides led her to the bedroom where she swiftly grabbed a duffel bag hidden away in the corners of the closet to pack a few items.

Harry stared at the piece of paper gracefully wisping against the air to fall on the ground. It was crumpled slightly on where Y/N held it. Tear stains blotted some of the ink, causing it to bleed through. Did he feel guilty? Of course, he did. Harry felt terrible that Y/N had to find out this way, but he cannot lie that he felt relieved because it’s finally over.

He walked to the seating area just after the entryway to the main door. He stood in the middle of the room with the letter tucked away properly in the envelope. Harry guessed that he didn’t have to mail this anymore. He heard her before he saw her, huffing slightly from the heavy bag on her shoulder. Sniffles scrunching up her nose like a cute bunny.

“Y/N, I’m--,” Harry reached out to her, not knowing why he did but seeing her struggle was never a sight he wanted to see.

Y/N stuck the palm of her hand out to him, pausing him in his footsteps, “I never want to see you again. Don’t contact me.”

The shiver crawling up his spine was something that he would never admit. Fear was picking away at his insides but he won’t let it show. Not when Harry was the one that insinuated it in the first place. And he won’t lie, his ego was as bruised as a ripe peach because annoyance immediately filled his body right after.

“Thank God,” He rolled his eyes upwards, placing his hands on his hips, “Took you long enough to realize that I don’t want you around anymore,” The moment the words leave his lips, Harry regretted even thinking about them. It wasn’t exactly the whole truth. He still cared for and he still wanted her around--just not in the way he used to. Maybe they could even be friends but he fucked up that chance when he decided to speak like an asshole to her, especially when he could practically see Y/N holding on to her last thread of not letting the tears fall in front of him.

His ego clawed at his muscled chest, exacerbating everything when he continued, "I'm not in love with you. Don't think I ever was. You're nothing compared to her and you know it. Can't believe I ever dated you,”

Y/N was trying to process his words on top of the emotions that were swirling inside of her. She felt as though her mind was about to explode. It was overwhelming. All these feelings and new information confusing her to the point where she was rendered speechless because didn’t Harry just tell her that he loved her last night? And weren’t they talking about starting a family last Christmas in his childhood home? Anne had even dropped the ‘baby’ bomb during dinner to which Harry blushed and stuttered his words over. Memories flashed before her, yet the only thing that came out of her mouth was a dreary, flat question of, “How long?”

“A year,’

Y/N knew that she had opened a can of worms ready to plague every happy memory she shared with him because a year ago, Harry and she were celebrating their third year together in Italy. A year ago, he promised to stay by her side ‘forever, until the end of time’. Exactly twelve months ago did Harry slow dance with Y/N at a friend’s wedding, drunk off his ass but coherent enough to mumble, ‘Want you to be my wife, Y/N,’ in her ear.

Harry was remorsing it more and more with every word that came out of his mouth. Though, he could not stop because he wanted to get the last word before she left.

“Y’know when I said I wanted a family with you? I lied. I felt sorry for you. No one else is going to want you anyway, so I thought I might try.” He was close to tears himself, his lip pursing tightly because all he ever wanted was a family with her. They had spent so many nights planning where to live if kids came up in the future. Harry can’t give up his facade now, not when suddenly apologizing will make him look like a jerk and an asshole.

“She's pretty y’know? Could’ve never have lived up to that. . . Camille, she's someone I'd want a family with. I'd marry her because she's worthy of me. Who are you in comparison?"

Who was she? Who was Y/N without Harry? Her life was centered around the one man she thought would stick around until her skin wrinkled in old age. Until her voice withered with a shaky plead. Until her arms felt too weak lift and so they had to settled for a simple graze on the hand.

Her shoulders slouched with emotional exertion. She didn’t even notice her fingernails digging into her skin as she pondered over her next words. Staring at him with a wilting confidence as he breathed heavily, daring her to talk back at him. To answer his difficult question fully knowing that Y/N didn’t know the answer to it and Harry has no problem taking full advantage of the way he was put on a pedestal in this relationship with her.

Y/N was trying her hardest to be strong. No way was she going to let Harry see her cry. Harry who has seen her cry many times before due to serious reasons and silly breakdowns because the book she had been reading didn’t end the way she wanted it to. And this relationship wasn’t progressing like how she had envisioned it to.

He was blatantly describing how much he did not appreciate her. Putting her down by attacking her with dreams that she had discussed with him because it was the easiest way for him to dispose of the guilt and sorrow he would’ve been feeling otherwise. Making it seem like it was her fault for not being enough for him when she has always been a match for him. Y/N knew that she was worth something and Harry not seeing how valuable she is doesn’t mean she had lost the ability to see herself as someone worth loving.

Y/N held his gaze, memorizing every speck of gold litter on his irises as she took off her engagement ring, throwing the jewellery at him without a second thought. In a rush of confidence, Y/N raised her arm to retreat behind her and shoot forward with a slapping sound as her palm met his cheek. If Harry taught her anything during their relationship, it would be to ‘treat people with kindness’ and that included herself.

She staggered a few steps back, watching as he stayed unmoving, his cheek reddening with a handprint. Shaking her head, Y/N aimed for the exit, opening the door to leave.

“Wait!”

She was only human to admit that that one word sparkled the light of hope within her. Y/N turned around, gripping the door handle.

“I feel guilty, my love. Please don’t leave, let’s talk about this properly,”

“I’m sorry you feel that way but you’re a liar for making me think that this relationship wasn’t over a year ago when you started cheating on me with her. You’re a coward for not telling me that your feelings have changed and an arrogant son of a bitch to not admit that you’re sorry,” It was her turn to speak now and it was best if Harry stayed put and listened. Perhaps it would even be the last time that he shared this close distance with her.

“I can see it in your eyes, H. I know you. You don’t mean it when you say you didn’t love me because I felt it and you showed me. I just don’t understand why you couldn’t tell me when—” Y/N suddenly clutched her stomach, cupping her hand over her mouth.

Harry’s body moved before he could even think, reaching his arms to steady her as she stumbled slightly. The hinge of the door creaked as she used the momentum to stabilize herself and push him away from her. She coughed harshly, piercing his ears as the dreadful sound scratched her throat. Harry was scared because Y/N wouldn’t let him touch her.

Y/N gagged, racing to the kitchen sink to empty her stomach. Retching sounds filled the otherwise quiet home as Y/N held her hair away from her face. Harry offered to thread his fingers through but she shook her head. He backed away.

Hushed coughs dripped past her lips, her body slouched and panting over the sink.

“Love? Are you okay?” Harry remained his distance, following her body in case she fell. The furrow in his brow warmed Y/N’s heart but she soon realized that caring was in his nature.

The refrigerator door opened, Y/N grabbed a bottle of water, twisting the cap open and putting the opening against her mouth. “Don't touch me. I don’t want you near me. I never want to see you again,” She slammed the half-drunk bottle on the counter, not caring if the water spilled; it’s his mess now.

Harry followed her like a lost puppy, “Where are you going? You can't go out in that state,"

Y/N ignored him, opting to crouch down to pick up the duffle bag she had dropped with a searing glare directed to him.

"Please wait, stay here. You're sick. Y’can't go out, love,”

At the sound of the word ‘love’ leaving his lips, Y/N shuddered. All she can remember was reading the letter addressed to someone else when all this time she thought it was reserved for her. She turned around, gasping in surprise when he abruptly stopped in front of her. Harry’s hands wrapped around her waist to prevent Y/N from falling backwards.

Upon inspection, Harry could see that Y/N was paler than usual. Her eyes decked out with glossiness and he wasn’t sure if it was from the tears she had managed to hold back or from the recent sickness. She pushed him away harshly, heaving all her strength to create distance between them.

“No,” Y/N spoke with grit, “You wanted to leave, right? I’ll make it easier for you—I’m gonna leave first.” Her clumsy nature decided to act up, causing her to stumble down the short steps of the door to the walkway. Harry caught Y/N by the forearm.

Y/N shrugged his warm hand off of her, “Get away from me!” Her shrill voice pierced a knife in his chest. Harry’s lips began to quiver because she has never pushed him away before.

“You'll never speak to me again?"

The door slammed in front of his face in response.

“Hmm, I guess not.”

The driveway is littered by the sound of her engine starting, then driving away. Now, Harry’s alone in the spotless house that Y/N had cleaned all day. He sat on the sofa, fiddling with the ring that Y/N had taken off. He had not let himself fully immerse in the gravity of how much he had hurt Y/N yet. He was about to--but one ring of his phone distracted him.

Harry smiled at the caller ID, swiping his thumb to answer.

“Hi, my love.”

When the relationship ended, Y/N imagined being bed-ridden. A lack of motivation to do anything casual such as standing. Watching the television seemed to be a task that required all of her energy and full-attention to be able to understand the subtitles on the screen. Her friends would knock continuously on her door to be met with no response because she was asleep or Y/N couldn’t be bothered with pitiful conversation asking her if she was okay. She would be too tempted to ask how Harry was doing when she could easily pull out her phone and search his name in a few quick taps. These used to be easy; as easy as breathing and loving Harry was easier than loving herself.

How was he doing? Y/N hoped that Harry was regretting his actions. She was yearning for the vibration of her phone to restart her heart like an AED stuck to her chest, sending her pulses to remember that they were not what they used to be. Or maybe the snippy ringtone Y/N had set specifically for him and only him would ring through the air as she wallowed in a burrito blanket. Frankly too emotionally worn out to even move an inch as she watched her phone face down on the bedside table of her new apartment.

Life doesn’t wait until Y/N is capable of being back on her feet before thundering down with the foundations of living. Five days into the breakup did she realize that the money she had saved up would be spent faster than she can replace it if she stayed any longer at the hotel near the heart of downtown. It was a spur of the moment decision to ‘treat herself’; she thought she deserved it after being called names and thrown aside like a used toy. And on the fifth day, she was on the lookout for places to live in as she adjusted to her new life without Harry.

It wasn’t like Y/N was completely dependent on him. She had a well-paying job; just not as good as his. And she could afford a nice apartment, just not as nice as his mansion. Nor did it have the same toasty feeling that enveloped her when she walked through the doors. Y/N told herself that she would give it a few months; that maybe it was just the change in setting that misplaced every bone in her body because everything she did felt off. Deep down, Y/N knew that things weren’t the same without him. She could either live a life reminiscing how she--they--used to do things or she could change and adapt to this ball thrown at her.

The decision was in her hands, yet she hesitated with every gambling thought crossing her mind. On one hand, she was used to a routine. It was a routine that never got boring to her, solely because Harry found a way to make things interesting; refreshing. On the other, Y/N would be in a never-ending comparison of how much she missed him or pat her shoulders because she was able to compromise the old parts of her that existed when Harry was around and to integrate it with a new version that was wary of anybody getting close to her.

The challenge was not easy when the media got hold of the news. It seemed as if everywhere Y/N went---mixed reactions and judgement attacked her with doe eyes offering the best of luck or disgusted snickers telling that she deserved it and that they--Camille and Harry--were perfect for each other. But when Y/N quite literally was carrying a piece of him and her inside her stomach did she step up to what she had to become to raise her baby.

It seemed like yesterday when Y/N stared at her reflection in the en-suite bathroom of Harry’s home, pinching at a subtle layer of fat that she was sure wasn’t there a few days ago. Bloated cheeks that added a fullness to her face were substituted as the result of a bright smile plastered on her face because she Harry had pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead before she left for work that day. The sudden aversion to fragrant foods she absolutely adored flew right over her head and excused as a bad batch.

And the most painful memory was the day Harry and Y/N’s relationship ended. The beginning of something new, something beautiful was right under their noses. Y/N wondered what could have happened if she didn’t find the letter. When the symptoms of pregnancy became more obvious each day; would Harry notice the change in her physique? The crinkle of her nose when met with a sandwich containing pickles that she used to love?

Y/N couldn’t help but envision holding the stick with a tiny ‘+’ pixelated by dark colours. Sitting on the closed toilet seat as she contemplated delivering the news to him in the early hours of the morning after she was awoken by a flush of morning sickness. Y/N daydreamed about watching his sleeping face smooth out of any lines as he dreamed peacefully and wondered if this was still a part of what he wanted with her. Maybe she would jostle him gently, rousing him with a poke as she kneeled on his side of the bed, flailing the pregnancy test between her fingers until he blinked the sleep out of his waterline. Harry would present her a doozy smile before realizing what she held--to which he would sit up faster than he had ever done, gazing at her with a pleading stare. For Y/N to confirm that yes, she was pregnant. Yes, they were going to have a baby and yes, Harry was going to be a father. A little family in the works.

But that daydream was reeled in like a fishing hook in grave waters as reality grounded her. She was apparently two months into her pregnancy when Y/N had mistaken the sickness as an inevitable reaction to finding out his infidelity. Hearing him say the term of endearment as if he had not used it with another person made Y/N want to grab him by the shoulders to hold a steady contact, jostling him until answers spilled out of his mouth. Answers that Y/N deemed justifiable but was there ever a good excuse for cheating? She wanted to strip him out of the apologies filling his mouth and get straight to the question of why he had done it. But even then, Y/N knew that there was no way she was going to be satisfied with his answers. It was just a matter of her accepting that the idea of ‘what could have been’ would live inside her head because she was the only one that knew about the life inside of her.

Harry had not made an effort to speak to her besides arranging the dates to pick up her things. She had to wear large clothes to hide her growing belly because Y/N wasn’t sure if she even had the right to tell him something so personal anymore. It fit well with the narrative that she was a depressed homebody that craved the touch of his fingertips on her skin, the taste of his lips on her tongue and the weight of his arms around her. Albeit that he was the father, Harry had obviously moved on way before they ended; a little over a year ago now to be precise.

Y/N was almost one-hundred percent sure that Harry had blocked her number. Scratch that, she was certain if the way her messages failed to send were anything to go by. She could handle seeing the handle of ‘read’ on the bottom of a message because at least she’d know that Harry did read it and that he was aware. But watching the encircled, crimson exclamation point appear was just another reminder that he planned to erase four years from his life to start anew.

So what if at four months, Y/N was attending another doctor’s appointment by herself, trying to amount to as little attention as possible? Well, today was the day that she was going to find out the baby’s gender. Her bump was definitely noticeable now and extremely uncomfortable especially sitting on a plastic, grey chair in the waiting room. The device in her hand felt like stone perceiving the icon of blaring red that indicated yet another failed message to the contact previously named ‘My Love’, now to just ‘Harry’.

Y/N: I’m finding out the gender of our baby today

Y/N: I’m hoping for a girl but either way, I just want the baby to be healthy.

“Y/N? Dr. O’Sullivan is ready to see you,” The nurse clad in scrubs walked out with a clipboard gripped in her hands.

Y/N stood up, pausing to retrieve her items. She took a breath before entering the room, catching sight of the doctor in his stereotypical white coat focused on the computer screen that showed her information.

“You know what to do. Good luck today,” The nurse mused, handing her a folded hospital gown to change into as she pointed towards the direction of the room with a little nook to change privately. After struggling a bit with pulling off her top, Y/N tied the strings of the hospital gown.

“Hi, Y/N. How are you today?” He asked, standing up to gather the items he would need. Y/N made herself comfortable on the small bed, the white paper crinkling as her weight shifted.

She sighed deeply, “I’m alright. Really excited, actually,” A grin appeared on her face with just how close she was to find out the gender of the baby, “How about you?”

“Good as always,”

Connor O’Sullivan was the name of the doctor. They met when Y/N was in search of the top-tier family doctor’s around the city and instantly had a connection. He had a trustworthy aura that Y/N deemed acceptable to guide her to a healthy pregnancy. A friendship had definitely blossomed around the doctor-patient boundary but they stayed within their limits. Inside jokes existed but it had never crossed the line. And sure, touches to the shoulder happened once in a while but nothing had escalated further.

Y/N’s baby bump was exposed to the cool room. She shivered when a gloved hand applied the gel on her taut skin. Stretch marks were littering the sides of her tummy. It was itchy and uncomfortable. However, it was tolerable especially after applying a combination of creams and oil to soothe the ache. It was also another reminder that she really was about to become a mother.

“Cold?” Connor teased with an easy smile. Y/N rolled her eyes upwards in response, “You’re the doctor here,”

He chuckled, directing her attention to the small screen beside them. The static fizz of black and white slowly morphing to a more discernible image as he attached the device to her skin, finding the perfect angle to produce a clear picture. The first time Y/N saw her little baby; it was the size of a lemon. The next couple of visits showed progression in their growth; tiny baby feet, stubby legs, and sprouting fingers could be seen on the ultrasound.

They looked more and more like a proper baby now--like the ones one would see in the clinics and Y/N really couldn’t believe that she was about to find out their gender. Y/N couldn’t tell just by inspecting the picture because of her lack of expertise.

“You’re having a. . .” Connor began, edging his voice at the last word. He wiggled his brows as Y/N’s eyes widened.

She balled her fists, “Oh, hell. Just spit it out, C,”

“A girl. You’re having a little girl,” He peered up at the patient, watching tears fill the brim of her waterline as she gasped, palming her slightly open mouth.

“A-a girl?” Y/N craned her head to look at the square image, blurrier because of the tears but beautiful nonetheless. “I can’t believe I’m having a girl,”

The doctor wiped the gel off of her tummy with a cloth, switching off the machine as he waited for another reaction out of her. Y/N tossed her legs to the side, putting on her slip-on vans to fully-comprehend the news. “I’m having a baby girl,”

Connor nodded, releasing an ‘oomph’ at a sudden pressure around his middle. Y/N wrapped her arms around him, feeling the tube of his stethoscope dangling against her cheek. Her lashes fluttered, happy tears streaming out. He returned the gesture with soft rubs on her lower back.

“I’m sorry, I’m so emotional,” Y/N pulled away with a huff, using her fingertips to rub the wetness towards her temple. “I’m so happy but I just wished that he was--,” She cut herself off, pursing her lips as an image of Harry carrying their baby appeared in her head.

“I understand, Y/N.” Connor mirrored her distraught expression as he really did feel sorry for Y/N. However, he couldn’t explain the extra twinge in his heart at seeing her frown over a lost love. “You’re doing great on your own,”

She sighed for possibly the tenth time that day, “We both wanted to name her Halo if it’s a girl or Arlo if it’s a boy. It reminds me of what an angel she will be,”

“Wait until she gets older,” Connor joked to lighten the mood, receiving a glimmer from Y/N. “What d’ya say you get changed and I’ll print out this ultrasound, sounds good? A few more months then we can meet baby Halo,”

Halo.

Harry’s relationship with Camille was a dream. It was everything he imagined, maybe even better. The first time they dabbled on getting together was four years ago, before Y/N was even around in his life. There could be so many things right about a relationship and it could still be wrong. Maybe it wasn’t the right place, the right time, or they simply had too many disagreements and flaws that both parties were unwilling to work it to make them--work.

Usually, the third time would be a charm but Harry felt that he and Camille didn’t need a third time. As he said, the past couple of months felt like a dream. He could close his eyes and still feel the soft skin of the woman he loves grazing his fingertips. He couldn’t help but transpire into a new chapter of their love; one where it wasn’t just them tumbling in the sheets. When the squeals in the kitchen while making breakfast were paired with pleads for whipped cream on their pancakes; a child.

Harry was old enough to know what he wanted--at least, he thought he was--and a family was in his books. He finally found a partner who had the same mindset in their future; Camille. At first, he was absolutely sure that Y/N could not be erased from; but her name wasn't set in stone and once he found someone better--no way in hell was he going to let that be a missed opportunity.

__

Camile sighed softly, laying on Harry's bare chest as he pulled the sheets over their clammy bodies. Their orgasms settled in their veins, the rush and panting breaths calming down with each blink of an eye.

With her finger swirling patterns on his skin, Harry stared at the ceiling in hesitant contemplation, “Babe, have you ever thought of getting off the pill?” She paused.

“Uh, sure, but then we would have to use a condom?” Her voice raised at the end in curiosity.

Harry released an awkward chuckle, gently swivelling her body off of him so he could sit up. Reaching over, his fingers found the flip of the light switch that turned the bedside lamp on. He smiled at her appearance, mirroring his stance as she sat on the bed, a sheet clung around her body.

He shook his head, “No, no. No condoms, no pills and, y’know. . .”

The confusion was evident on Camille’s features, “I don’t exactly understand what you’re trying to say, H--,’

“‘M asking if y’wanna try for a baby, love.’

Silence overtook the room. Harry held his breath in his throat, seemingly trying to swallow down the lump that had formed because of her lack of response. She cleared her throat.

“A baby?” Harry nodded with excitement despite the flat tone whipping past her lips. “I--don’t know how to say this, Harry. I’ve never wanted kids.”

His face fell, the words lingering around his head like a flock of birds. The dizzying epiphany rattled his head clear of any other thoughts besides the fact that there was a hole in his book; burnt and toasted with sparks inkling his skin.

“W-why not?” His palms fell flat on the silky sheets, fisting the fabric to keep him settled. “A mini you and a mini-me running around the house. Won’t that be fun, baby? Don’t you want that?”

It almost hurt Camille to see the grin plastered on his face, hopeful eyes practically begging her to change her mind. But she couldn’t.

“Harry, that part will be fun. What won’t be fun is getting huge, morning sickness, weird cravings, hormonal imbalance, the aftermath of labour, the sleepless nights, the puke, the changing diapers, the back pain, the headaches, the fights when they’re older and so much more” Her accent rippled with each explanation rejecting the idea.

Harry huffed, crossing his arms subconsciously to shield himself, “But it’ll be worth it,”

“It won’t be,” Camille scooted closer to him, situating herself on her knees so that she could look into his eyes clearly. “Look, I made up my mind ages ago and I thought you felt the same since you haven’t settled down yet”

“I was jus’ lookin’ for the right person,” His head dipped down, dropping his gaze their intertwined hands. “It’s gonna’ be okay, Cam. We can make it work. We’ll have our own family. We’ll be okay,”

She shook her head in refusal, “It will be okay for you, H.” Harry could feel her hands itching to slip past his. He held her tighter. He didn’t want to lose her. “You can get back to work immediately. I’m a model and it takes time to lose weight. Even when I do--I won’t look the same. It’ll take me months, if not years to even resemble my present body.

“I don’t care how your body looks. You’re still gonna’ look amazing. You think I won’t love you after birthing our little baby?” With brows pressed together, he pouted his lip in curiosity as she rolled her eyes.

Camille sighed exasperatedly, “I don’t want children, Harry. The sooner you understand that the better. It’s MY body. I’ll be carrying the kid around for 9 months. No thank you.” She stood up, stumbling slightly as the sheets tangled around her feet.

He followed suit. His height towered over her as she crouched down to collect the pieces of clothing strewn around haphazardly in a rush to have each other. “But it’ll be MY baby, Cam. OUR baby, don’t you want that?”

Fingernails dug into the skin of her palm, holding her clothes as she spoke, “I don’t, Harry. Why can’t you just accept that?”

In the heat of the moment, Harry couldn’t help but quell the ache in his chest with a memory he thought he had thrown away, “Because Y/N and I planned to have a family. A-and I thought you and I could have one too,”

Camille huffed, keeping her distance. She walked to the bathroom, “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have fucking cheated on her then,”

His fight with Camille left the both of them on edge, barely able to handle the thick tension surrounding the house. Even though she took refuge in the bedroom and Harry wandered to the kitchen to cool off; it was impossible for them to stay in one place without having another argument.

Harry didn’t mean to let the memory slip past his lip. He hated it when he found himself comparing his past relationships to his current one. He felt that there was no need to do so, especially when the point of all of it was to start anew. Harry guessed that his desire to have a family was too powerful to keep his thoughts in check. The ache bubbling in his chest rose to a boil with each rejection that Camille answered with.

It wasn’t like he didn’t respect her decision. He really did. But Harry didn’t know if he was going to be happy being with her without progressing into something more through the years. What he was asking from her is just as difficult as what she was asking from him. Camille didn’t want to have children and Harry didn’t want to not have kids. There was no room for compromise if they both, mutually, wanted to respect each other's' decisions’ to the absolute fullest. However, the chances of him living a content life were zero to none.

And that was how Harry ended up at a bar, alone, at nine o’clock in the evening. They were invited by his friend, Kora, to a birthday celebration. Harry was reaching the limit of his threshold having to fake a smile and a chuckle while saying, “Camille’s feelin’ a bit sick tonight. ‘S just me,”

The thing with this celebration was that Kora was initially Y/N’s friend. He and Kora had become close friends while he was with Y/N and he guessed that that was the reason why he was invited. Although, it made him wonder why one of Y/N’s best friends invited him when she was aware of what happened between them. Surely, there was no way that Kora would invite Y/N, Harry, and Camille to the same crowded space, would she?

The sudden nervousness swirling at the pit of his stomach came with a quick neck as Harry scanned each premise of the bar. It was difficult considering the dim lighting and endless amounts of heads moving against each other. He hoped to see Y/N; just to see how she was doing! But he also felt like puking the alcohol he consumed because--as much as he wanted to admit it or not--he missed her.

After a half-hour of being vigilant, Harry willed himself to relax by the counter. Leaning one elbow on the wood as he spoke to another person regarding his upcoming album.

‘Yeah, yeah. It’s goin’. ‘M really excited for it cause’ I’ve got a lot of inspiration for some reason,” Harry answered with unyielding precision.

“We both know where that came fro--Oh hi! Sorry, H. Gotta check in on, Johnny,”

He rolled his eyes under closed lids, sipping on his drink, eyeing Kora when he heard a quip of Y/N’s name. Harry inconspicuously moved closer to her, making sure that he didn’t catch her attention.

“You’re not here,” Kora yelled with a whine to her tone. Her drunk self was still coherent enough to embark on the bartender to make another drink for her. However, Harry guessed that her senses were obscured with the way she yelled through the phone despite it being held to her ear and the function tapped to ‘speaker’.

“I know. I’m sorry. I promise to make it up to you, Kora,” Y/N’s gentle chuckle rumbled through the speaker, making Harry smile. It was the first time he heard it in a while. He sometimes wondered if he had the right to feel relieved when Harry was the one that blocked her number in the first place.

“It’s my birthday! Why aren’t you here drinking with us?” Kora quietly thanked the bartender.

Harry’s curiosity spiked; why wasn’t Y/N here tonight?

“It’s because I’m pregnant, silly. Can’t really do that when I’ve got a bubba in my tummy,” Both women giggled, Kora, making a sound of acknowledgement, “Ohhh right!“

He really wished that he would have stuck by long enough to hear more of their conversation but Kora’s boyfriend was approaching her and he wasn’t in the mood to discuss anything if he was honest.

She moved on fast, Harry thought. He was definitely sounding like an entitled jerk. Hear him out though; Harry was happy with Camille. Yes, he had been cheating on Y/N for a whole year and yes, she had to find out through a letter but Y/N was pregnant. Did she really move on that quickly?

Despite the guilt gnawing at her for missing her best friend Kora’s birthday, Y/N was also looking forward to getting some sleep. It was a couple of hours after their phone call together when the nauseating tightening of Y/N’s chest woke again and had been for the past three days.

It was a horrible feeling that spread from the confines of her stomach. The bile rising up from her throat that left a burning feeling from the acids that escaped her mouth as she quickly threw the covers away from her legs, running towards the direction of her bathroom where she emptied the remnants of her stomach from last night’s craving of pickles and hot Cheetos. Her chest heaved with exertion as she draped her arms over the white porcelain of the disinfected toilet, hunching over as her stomach seemingly pumped away toxins.

Y/N wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, visibly shuddering as she pointed a finger to flush the toilet. She had a feeling that she won’t be getting any more sleep despite the time being three o’clock in the morning. Halo was insistent on staying up past normal bedtime hours. Y/N sighed, walking lethargically towards the dresser to retrieve her phone before heading to the living room nearby.

Y/N: You up, doc?

The blue loading bar swooped to the right as Y/N sent a message to Connor. She was at the peak of her pregnancy and her due date was occurring within a few weeks. A lot had changed since the day she found out the gender of her baby. Between the emotional trauma of having been broken up with--the hard-hitting fact was that Y/N was pushed into a direction of pregnancy that wasn’t exactly her ideal path. She pretty much preferred the dream-like sequence of having Harry accompanying her to her ultrasounds.

Just as Y/N was about to delve into another imaginary scenario of Harry sending her cute baby onesies that he would absolutely need to purchase for their little one, the humming of her phone pulled her from drowning in pathetic wishes and desires.

Connor: What’s up, Y/N?

She jutted her lips as she typed out a response. Contemplating whether or not to send the message as Y/N’s thumb hovered over the arrow, she paused to wonder why she was feeling so guilty in texting another man months and antecedent her break up with Harry. He was happy with someone else, yet Y/N felt as if her feet were planted in a puddle of sticky glue; unable to move on from the life she built in her head. Although it hurt to admit that Harry only existed in her memories now, reminiscing the spoken words they have discussed was another stab to her already bruised heart.

Y/N: Halo’s keeping me up again..

Connor: Want me to come over?

To keep you company

The reply was instantaneous and she could not deny the flutter of her heart beating subtly despite the extremities it had endured. And Y/N couldn’t help but notice the jitter of her baby bump morphing a plump bulge where Halo had kicked it as if it was a stamp of approval of the man coming over.

It wasn’t the first time that Connor drove to her place at the brink of dawn to keep her company in case the sickness became too much for Y/N to handle. The first time was simply a desperate action because she was rattled by the sudden spike in dizziness and incoherence of her sickness that Y/N wasn’t confident in herself to handle it alone. Times after that were more for his comfort when Connor said that he would ‘rather be safe than sorry’ while he rubbed his palm up and down her back.

Minutes later, a knock on her door sounded, forcing Y/N to haul her plump body to the comfort of the sofa, pausing the rerun of a television show. She waddled towards the entrance, the fit of her pyjama waistband snuggly wrapping around her mid-belly. A stretch of skin exposed between her bottoms and her tank top.

“Hi, thank you for coming,” Y/N greeted shyly, widening the door to let Connor in as he chuckled, toeing off his shoes by the closet door.

He waved her off, “It’s no problem, really,” Connor assisted her back to her couch, aiding her by letting his hands stabilize in the air in case anything happened.

The moment their bottoms hit the cushions did Y/N realize the gravity of the guilt spiralling in her chest. Connor laughed softly, his back resting on the couch with his right arm resting on the top, fingertips barely brushing over her shoulder. He reached over the coffee table to obtain the bowl of freshly popped popcorn, picking one to munch on but not before looking over at Y/N.

“Want some?”

She snapped out of her daze, cheeks heating profusely at being caught blatantly staring at how Connor fit naturally into her home both physically and metaphorically. He couldn’t have appeared at a better time when Y/N not only needed medical assistance and a support group by her side. However, she asked herself if he could be anything more than a friend. She shook her head ‘no’.

“No thanks. I’m quite full,” Y/N pressed a palm to her belly when a kick halted her breath. ‘Okay maybe a little,” She rolled her eyes, scolding Halo. “She’s a hungry one,”

“I’m gonna pop some more popcorn, kay? Be right back,”

Y/N heaved a sigh, watching Connor’s retrieving figure. Her admiration was cut off by the ringing of her phone.

Harry wasn’t so sober when he opened the door to his car. He wasn’t in his right mind either when he unblocked Y/N’s number and tapped on her name, switching the screen as it rang. He threw his head back against the headrest, biting his lip when the dial tone rang and rang.

“Hello?”

Harry’s breath hitched, losing his voice momentarily before his slowed brain caught up to move his tongue.

“Y/N? It’s Harry,” He spoke quietly, “Don’t hang up. Hear me out,” His ears stretched to pick up the click of a dropped call but he didn’t hear any.

“Heard from Kora that y’were pregnant, yeah? And I was wondering, whose is it?” The venom in his voice dripped. His drunken stupor rendered him unable to grasp reality.

“I’m not answering that,” Y/N’s tone was firm and direct. Harry could imagine her pursing her lips inwards.

“Why not? Scared that y’gonna have to admit that everything you put on was an act? How can y’move on so fast and give me shit about it?” The parking lot was filled with cars yet Harry could see that he was the only one currently occupying one. If there was a better metaphor of feeling alone in a crowded place; then he would love to hear it.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Harry? You cheated on me! You slept with another woman while we were together. You loved another woman while we were together. For an entire year, you lied to me and deceived me,”

“Jus’. . .answer the question,” He pinched his nose bridge, a headache pounding from the bottom of his skull.

“How dare you speak to me this way? You have no right calling me up out of nowhere,” Y/N lowered the volume of her voice, “and asking all these ridiculous questions,”

“S’not ridiculous,”

She gave a smile to Connor who entered the room with a bowl of delicious smelling popcorn. Y/N clutched the phone to her chest. Connor situated his body beside her with a glimmering smile, his mouth twitching as he eyed her bump, “Can I talk to her?” A gentle question breezed past his lips, moving closer when Y/N gave him approval.

The man kneeled down on the floor, leaning his head downwards to speak to Halo, “Hey little one, y’gotta be nice to momma, okay?” His fingers waved when her feet kicked out. Connor looked up to Y/N with a proud smile, “Did you see that? She responded!”

____

Harry felt his heart clench as a new voice filled the speakers. His neurons were fried with each thought firing endlessly, “Who’s that?

“Don’t call me again,”

The dial tone rung in his ears, echoing in the quiet space of his Range Rover.

_____

Pressing the power button for a few seconds, the device turned black and was left on the arm of the couch. The excitement in Connor’s voice brought a dreamy smile to Y/N’s face, chewing on some popcorn. The beating of her heart seemed to double at the sight of him being so thrilled with her baby.

“We can’t wait to see you. I bet you’re gorgeous,” Connor dropped his volume to a whisper to prevent Y/N from hearing, ‘’Like your mom,”

Y/N’s relaxed and comfortable state of mind mindlessly worked her hands to thread the hair on top of Connor’s head. Just like she used to do to Harry. Her expression dimmed at the thought, painting a faint simper when Connor looked at her in surprise before shrugging it off, continuing to talk to her bump. She shivered when a warm pair of lips attached to the skin of her stomach. Gentle pressure planting a kiss as Connor said his goodbyes to baby Halo.

“She’s a smart one, that much I can tell,” He confirmed, moulding his body to the lingering shape he had left behind in his previous position. And Y/N was flustered to say that she might have scooched a little closer to his body, snuggling her head at the junction of his shoulder.

“Can I?” She asked, doe eyes raising a question that would allow them to cross the boundary they had limited themselves to. He nodded reflexively as if he was awaiting this moment. Connor took the initiative to pull Y/N closer to him, subconsciously kissing the top of her head. The scent of the woman’s shampoo wafting through his nose and invading his senses in a sweet smell that he would gladly immerse himself to.

It was the most pleasant feeling for Y/N to completely let go of her former worries about starting anew when Connor was as cozy as a heater. He made Y/N feel safe and secure with his body shielding her and his actions hinting at a subdued attraction he hadn’t fully shown to her.

And Connor was proud of himself for not quite literally freaking out when Y/N smothered her face to his chest as time passed and the sun rays filtered through the blinds as she fell asleep. Her words mumbled in a jumbled mess about how she wished that morning sickness wasn’t called morning sickness.

It wasn’t totally accurate, she complained. She thought that it was a misleading name; catfishing perhaps. He had chuckled in response, tracing his fingers up and down her arm and feeling goosebumps rise on her skin.

The orange hue of the bright star painting the sky lighter and lighter until the pitch-black sight morphed into a mixture of shades that could only be described as beautifully grandiose--just like Y/N’s sleeping face when the sun casts a shadow to highlight her nose, scrunching with the slight graze of the back of Connor’s finger rubbing the tip. Or the way the luminescence caressed the apples of her cheeks where her lashes rested, mouth puffing breaths of air as she allowed herself to be vulnerable for the first time in months.

____

A heavy feeling had settled into Harry's chest after Y/N hung up the phone. The new voice he had heard had unmistakably been a man's. Who was he? Was Y/N having that man's baby?

Before he could help it, Harry was seething. He saw red, and if he were in a children's movie there would be steam coming out of his ears right about now. How dare she move on so fast? How could she have a baby with another man so soon? But when he thought about it; Harry couldn't even recall how long it had been since they'd broken up. It made him feel somewhat guilty. He hadn't meant to forget her. It had just happened.

His guilt soon manifested into frustration-- her being pregnant was a constant reminder that she had moved on with another man. Insecurity clawed at his insides- did he really mean that little to her? 'You cheated on her' his conscience pricked, but he brushed away the thought. He hated being reminded of his infidelity to his fiancée.

His defence mechanism kicked in like clockwork, using aggression to shield his insecurities. He opened his messages app and clicked her contact, typing drunkenly.

Harry: 'Your a whore'

'You're*'

'Diid yu cheat on me? I bet youu did'

'Do u sleepp arond a loot?'

'fck u'

He smiled smugly at his phone screen, satisfied with what he had sent her. He shut his phone off, and started his car, ready to drive back home. He knew he was being irresponsible, but between his current girlfriend not wanting a child and his ex being pregnant with one; he couldn't bring himself to care. He drove himself home, only to find a terribly worried Camille waiting for him to arrive.

He glanced at the huge clock on the wall behind her. 1:32 am. He shrugged his shoulders and brushed past her to their bedroom. In his drunken gait, he knocked over a metal tray. The loud 'clang' made him hiss and clutch his temples, a headache pounding in his skull.

Camille sighed and made her way over to him, wrapping her arms around his torso and muttering a "come here, H" Despite his sour mood, he found himself craving affection. What he wouldn't admit was that he didn't crave Camille's affection in particular. He just wanted to be held and feel safe in someone's arms. Anyone's arms. But despite himself, he mumbled, "m'sorry I left like tha'. Should'nt 've spoken to ya that way,"

She nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "It's okay, Harry, you're back home now. C'mon, let's get you changed and then let's sleep."

He bobbed his head up and down, willingly letting her drag him up the stairs to their shared bedroom, "Love ya,” Camille helped him out of his trousers.

She smiled softly, "Love you too, mon Cheri,” He giggled drunkenly at the showcase of her accent.

Harry woke up with a pounding headache, whining as his alarm rang at eight am in the morning. He opened his eyes to see that Camille wasn't in bed with him. His lips fell into a pout because of waking up alone.

There was a note on the bedside table.

'got called in for an emergency meeting for the show next week. be home by 5pm. love you!'

He sighed and reached for the glass of water she had left him. His brows furrowed when he didn't see Ibuprofen next to the water. Y/N left him ibuprofen beside the glass of water. Always. Harry snapped himself out of his daze, reprimanding himself for even thinking about her. Why is he thinking about her?

__

After a hot shower, Harry made his way downstairs to make himself breakfast. 'Eggs and toast', he thought. Placing 2 eggs in water and setting it on the stove before loading the toaster. He looked mindlessly through the drinks in the fridge, settling on 'Organic Orange Juice'. Y/N had introduced him to this particular brand after he had complained that all the others had too much sugar to be 'healthy'.

"This has no added sugar, H," she mentioned, "They sweeten it with honey."

Harry groaned, snapping himself out of the daydream, ashamed for thinking about his ex. Again.

He placed his breakfast on a plate and poured himself a glass of juice, sitting at the dining table alone. He chewed slowly with a mouthful as he unlocked his phone, beginning to go through his notifications.

Camille sent him a text. It was a selfie of her at her meeting, smiling and holding up a peace sign. He mirrored the expression, sending a tet back

Harry:  "stop being so cute"

He clicked the ‘back’ icon.

The second he does, his heart positively skips a beat. Not in a good way, either. Y/N's contact was just below Camille's, suddenly remembering the nasty things he had texted her the previous night.

"Fuck," He whispered under his breath, opening her contact. 'Read' was plastered under the messages he had sent. Y/N had seen them.

____

Connor had left a few hours later because he had morning rounds at the clinic the next day. Y/N had bid him goodbye with a shy kiss to the corner of his mouth,

“Thanks for coming, C,"

He smiled and pulled her into an embrace "Anytime, angel," into her hair. A warmth spread through her chest--one that she hadn’t felt in a long while.

After Connor drove off (with a final wave from his car window, of course), Y/N walked back in to settle on her couch again. Halo kicked a few times as she sat down, making Y/N squirm and giggle.

"Hi, you little goose! What's got you all excited, hm?" She rubbed over the area where Y/N felt the kick. As if, in response to her mother's voice, baby Halo kicked out again, right where Y/N's palm was. "Are you trying to high-five me, precious girl?"

Y/N cooed at her swelling tummy, a huge smile plastered across her face. "Or are ya just excited about Connor coming over to spend time with us? Got a good feeling about him, have you?"

She feels a gentle kick, it was almost as if the baby in her tummy wanted to say 'yes'. Y/Nhummed softly, caressing her tummy, "Me too, angel. I've got a good feeling about him, too."

___

A few minutes later, Y/N reboots her phone her previously switched off phone so that she could see if Connor had texted her. He had.

C: Thanks for letting me spend time with you and Halo tonight. I loved it. I have a  bit of time off on Sunday, do you want to get Pizza?'

Her eyes gleamed, but she hesitated for just a second.  Connor had texted her. But so had Harry. He had sent her five messages, and Y/N wasn't sure if she wanted to see what he had to say.

She wanted to make sure before texting Connor back. Y/N was not sure what she was expecting or hoping for, but what she saw was certainly not it.

Harry: 'Your a whore'

'You're*',

'Diid yu cheat on me? I bet you did

'Do u sleepp arond a loot?'

'fck you'

She felt tears stinging her eyes, cursing at the pregnancy hormones that have gotten her feeling this emotional about drunk texts from her ex. Her body ignited with fury quicker than she realized she could. Y/N doesn't hesitate to click the 'block' button to his contact.

She didn't need a man like him around her or her baby. Or her potential boyfriend.

Y/N: 'Hiya!,'

'it was great having you over, and I'd love to hang out! Down for pizza anytime. Halo loves it too :P'

The reply was instantaneous

C: 'Great!'

'See you Sunday, then! What are your favourite toppings?"

Y/N smiled brightly, finding his curiosity incredibly endearing. She typed back a response, gleaming with joy at the fact that she finally had someone she could rely on.

____

"Fuck. fuck fuck fuck," Harry repeated, clicking the call button to Y/N's contact. He needed to apologize. Desperately. He needed her to know that he didn't mean any of those things; he was just drunk. Not that that was an excuse.

'The number you are trying to reach is not in service', an automated voice said.

Harry groaned in frustration, opening her message contact, typing out;

Harry: "I'm so sorry, I don't know what had gotten into me. I was drunk. I'm very sorry, Y/N xx H."

He took a bite out of his toast before looking back at his screen to see if she had read the message yet. He almost wished he hadn't. Harry’s heart plummeted. His chest constricted as tears stung at the back of his eyes. Throwing up the meal he just scarfed sounded like an option right now.

A flaming red exclamation mark met his startled glance, and his chest heaved as he read,

'Not delivered,'

A writer that cannot write is dead.

When one loses the ability to tell their stories and anecdotes through the mere action of swirling words together to create an imaginable atmosphere of real-world fantasy; they are dead. A writer recovering from the mundane and mediocre way of penning experiences to bounce back into what they used to be is difficult. It is easier to free fall and drown in the depths of despair. The moment thoughts and rumination fog up to form a blurry image of conviction is a warning sign, blaring at the back of their minds and sometimes even in their faces.

Harry is a writer--or, he was. Picking up the pen to style the words lingering in his head used to be as easy as blinking; quick and natural. Now, the words claw at the swell of his throat, trying to spit an adjective to describe the way he felt. It was at the tip of his tongue, waiting to be lathed into existence. It did not matter if his cognition was mingled with various chemicals aimed to be able to feel happiness.

He was sober but he had trouble placing his finger on why it was so strenuous to narrate his feelings throughout the breakup. Being high or drunk was never the answer for him. Weed made him tired and made him have a case of cottonmouth. Harry learned from a young age that he should only ever engage with alcohol if he was in a mindset and setting that catered to increase existing good vibes. He thought that maybe he was in an odd phase of perceiving the opposite, and so he intoxicated himself enough to understand that it didn’t matter if he was soaked head-to-toe in sobriety or whizzed out of his mind by the amber liquid swirling in the glass in his hand. But that wasn’t the circumstance. It also didn’t matter if he was grasping his favourite pen to write--because it was comfortable--or tapping his calloused thumbs against his phone keypad. Hell, it didn’t make a difference when he sat down and prepared his typewriter to indulge in a headspace of vintage songwriting. Maybe that would help.

It didn’t.

He had stories to tell. Everything was laid out in misty overcast yet Harry’s great ideas morphed into gentle mistakes, harsh mistakes and discoveries that had him almost ripping his hair out of the roots of his scalp. When he felt the wave of his ocean-thoughts rise and peek where the sand shifted, his fingers were ready to move and discern for the eyes to see. But with each fritter, he couldn’t seem to get even two paragraphs in to decide that it was utter shit.

Harry was old enough to understand that slumping on the wet sand was a part of life. Sometimes picking up a fistful of grains and throwing them back to the sea was a great way to release frustration. But it seemed like this plunge of his ability to write was a hole of quicksand. He was trying his hardest to displace himself as swiftly as possible but it only made his scenario worse. The muddy sand clung unto his legs like sticky glue, heftier with each effort to leave. He wanted to move on. He wanted to forget everything that occurred in the past four years. Harry wanted to erase Y/N from his life because she wasn’t around anymore to bring those memories back to sparkly existence.

What he needed to do was nestle himself into a certain depth, calmly, in order to pull a limb out and ensure that his progress on the so-called ‘moving on’ did not have any drawbacks. Until then, he cannot possibly create songs that he was well-known for if he wasn’t patient enough.

He wanted so badly to tell his side of the story. Harry craved to think as clearly as he did when he told Y/N about his plan for their future. Admitting to his feelings was a hard route. Sure, he can be vulnerable but it took a great deal of convincing on his part to immerse himself in the deepest parts of his brain to understand why he felt the way he did. He usually had the means of songwriting to help him out but that obviously wasn’t working out that good for him.

___

Harry was packing the rest of Y/N’s things in boxes to be picked up later in the afternoon. He was annoyed at first at how she depended on him to fold her clothes properly instead of doing the bundle of the work herself. But he guessed that she didn’t want to be around him for longer than she had to. To be frank, he also did not want to indulge in what might turn into an argument if they spoke about the reason for their breakup. It was just a bit confusing because he had an urge to still want her around despite their less than likely situation.

Torture. If Harry had one chance to describe the way he felt right now; it was torture. With every nook of Y/N’s side of the closet emptying into brown, cardboard boxes--he physically how much she had integrated her life with his. How much space she took up in his life. How his clothes and her clothes were so interchanged between them that he couldn’t decide if the gray pull-over was actually his or hers. And in a moment of selfishness did he tuck it away for his safe-keeping despite seeing the tag imprinted on the inside; a shop that he hadn’t set foot in so it was a guarantee that it was hers.

Her scent embedded in the thin threads of each fabric wafted to his nose; each with a new wave of memories engulfing his senses as if each piece garnered a specific scent tailored to a specific event. Like her sunflower sundress--it smelled of fresh flowers as if the print was a scratch and sniff that released a fragrance. Or their DIY-ed tie-dye shirt of pastel blue and cotton candy pink. It was a matching piece made out of the cheap dye and a simple white tee but it was theirs. Things like these made Harry want to yell in frustration because every time he thought that he was completely over her-- Y/N appears out of visibly nowhere and towers over him.

Seeing her for the first time in days was a breath of relief. She looked fine. Glowing even, and Harry did not know what to make of it. As sadistic as it sounded, he was expecting dry-stained tears and a birds’ nest of hair trampling her head. Instead, Y/N was dressed for comfort in her baggy jeans and an even looser sweater covering her body. Her lips were drawn in a thin line, giving him a nod in greeting as he gestured to the boxes littering the floor.

Harry offered to help--it was the least he could do. And somehow, silence protruded from the tense atmosphere, begging to be cut by a knife yielded through their voices nipping at each others’ emotions.

“Let go of my damn hand,” Y/N stated, her hard stare could turn Harry into stone. He just wanted her to listen before she left.

He shook his head in denial of her request, tightening his grip further. “No. Listen to me, Y/N,”

“What do you possibly have to say that will change anything between us?”

And maybe it was her fault for assuming that he wanted to fix things. The sliver of hope thinly dressed behind closed lids enabled her to think that maybe he was going to say that he wanted to make things work again. That he had broken up with Camille and he realized what a stupid he had done throwing away everything they built up to for the past four years for an affair that couldn’t quench the thirst of his desire to have a family.

Harry sighed, a shadow of mischievous smirk painted on his lips. But maybe it was Y/N’s sight in deception because she could never see Harry as anything other than sweet and kind Harry incapable of hurting a fly.

“What? I don’t intend to. We’re broken. We’re beyond fixing,”

The hitch in her breath was as sharp as the stare he was searing her with. Forcing her to please understand that this would be their last conversation--if time and fate were on their side. “You’re not something I would take the time to handle,”

“Stop saying shit you don’t mean, Harry” Y/N rolled her eyes in annoyance. His macho act was barely an act and more like a stage curtain easily pushed with a flick of a wrist.

“Things I don’t mean?”

“You heard me,” She crossed her arms over his chest in defence, leaning against the closed trunk. “Say what you will but our love was real. Don’t make me seem like I’m crazy. Don’t tell me that I’m a mistake,” Her voice was filled with confidence because she knew the affection that Harry diffused.

The cradles of his palm at the small of her back when they had to walk past a crowd. The subtle graze of the back of his fingers caressing the bare skin of her arm. Kisses pressed to her temple as she read a novel and swirling fingertips twirling her hair. These were acts of love that happened nearly every day in their relationship. A routine that felt different if it wasn’t done to or with each other.

Exasperatedly, Harry felt the same itching crawling up his spine. His ego ballooning into a delicate size and one more word from Y/N’s lush lips would have him on his hands and knees, begging for her back.

“This, us, was a fuckin’ mistake,” Harry’s accent thunked heavily in her cochlea, practically spitting the words out of his mouth as if they were poisonous. Ringed fingers gesticulated the space between them to emphasize how much of a misunderstanding they truly were. “I should’ve known the second things went further than planned,”

Y/N felt her heart drop to her full stomach. The feeling so nauseating that she instinctively palmed her belly over the fabric to protect her little baby from his harsh words. Even though they weren’t directed towards anyone but Y/N. She didn’t think that their unborn child deserved scrutiny from their own father.

“You don’t mean that, Harry.”

Because how could he? Not when he emulated sincerity through his syrupy voice. Not when he spent hours loving on her tummy and spoke to it like he would if she were pregnant. Especially not when every kiss from him felt like a buzz of electricity coursing through her veins because he was the main distributor of her happiness.

Harry truly was an asshole for making her hope and wonder of what the future held when he was unsure himself. He did want a family. That was a statement in all its truthfulness. What he wasn’t sure about was if he wanted a family with Y/N. He could have a family; kids of his own in his own time. But Y/N didn’t have to necessarily be the mother. So was he besotted with the concept of family and marriage regardless of who it was with?

“But I do,”

The rain started drizzling in frequent spurts, planting a fat droplet on her cheek that could be argued as a tear escaping Y/N’s eye. It hurt a lot to hear that from him. The man of her dreams blatantly denying each sugary word because his plans had changed.

“You’re a goddamn mistake is what you are,’

“Why are you. . .saying all these things to me? Are you trying to hurt me?” The shakiness of Y/N’s tone had Harry swallowing his words down his strep throat.

He shook his head in disagreement, “No, I’m not. ‘M just tryna make you see my side. So you can understand,” His head dipped to the side, softening his tone yet stern as though he was speaking to a child.

And that was one of the reasons why Y/N didn’t believe his all-too stoic demeanour about her. Harry was great at making others see his side regardless of how much in the wrong he was.

So why was he struggling?

___

Needless to say, he wasn’t very respectful towards Y/N any other time afterwards. He had unblocked her number months after blocking it at one point and demanded answers that he didn’t have the right to know. In retrospect, Harry was embarrassed by the way he acted. He did cheat on her and suddenly he was a saint because she moved on quicker than he thought she would? Unbelievable.

In his defence, the night he became the drunk caller was the same night he fought with Camille about having children; having a family they can call their own. Ever since that discussion did Harry notice a dispatch in their relationship. It was like they were aware of a missing link that had disappeared in their connection, but neither one of them wanted to be the one to bring it up. Harry supposed that now that Camille knew what he wanted (and vice versa)--she was feeling the pressure of giving in to him. Don’t get him wrong, Harry absolutely wanted a family and he thought that Camille was the right partner to build it with. However, he couldn’t help the voice at the back of his mind slyly whispering that he had forced her to give him what he wanted for the sake of saving their failing relationship.

It had been two and a half years since he mildly and miserably accepted that his dream family was being erased like a pencil on paper.

The first year; Harry still clung to the obscure hope that Camille might change her mind of having kids. Many fights sprouted between the two of them concluding in them sleeping at different places for weeks on end until they eventually crawled back to each other like an invisible string. The second-year; Harry brought up the idea of adoption. It was a hard choice for him as he desperately wanted kids of his own. A boy that looked like him and his love or a little girl that smiled at him with deep dimples mirroring his own.

And Harry liked to think that he was just on the edge of convincing Camille to consider the option when his tour was scheduled a few months after. A new dealbreaker was that Harry wasn’t going to be around much to watch and nurture the little bub they might’ve adopted. It was a sudden intrusion to think about since Harry was good with kids. He knew that. That was why he had three godchildren of his own. But what hit him the most was how sure Camille sounded when she yelled at him about leaving for months at a time and returning for a bit, only to leave again. Now, Harry hadn’t considered that part. But surely he will be ready to choose between a family and his career, right? When the time comes, he thought.

It pained Harry to admit that his relationship with Camille was dwindling down the drain. The knowledge that there was no future--the one that Harry envisioned--for them was getting more and more real each passing day.  

A late-night grocery trip was one of the many examples that had Harry rethinking his actions for the past couple of years. It was the time period where night owls arose and barely any customers littered the aisles. Still, Harry made sure to keep his hoodie up to shield his face.

Camille had an early flight to Milan in just a few hours later that day and she wanted to purchase some things to bring with her; in case they weren’t available in the country. So here they were at three in the morning.

As Camille walked ahead of him in her sweatpants and a plain tee, Harry couldn’t help but let his eyes flicker to the clothing section to his right The first-floor space was decorated with pastel blues and pinks; a stroller was displayed with a price would not make a dent in Harry’s bank account.

“‘M just gonna grab somethin’ over here, Cam,” Harry muttered as he pointed a thumb behind him. She nodded, “Meet me at the produce? Need to get you some fruits,”

Harry felt guilt thudding his chest because although he was losing feelings he thought were written in stone, Camille appeared to care for him the same way she always had.

He walked to the brightly lit area, puffing his cheek as a cute onesie caught his eye, “You’re so golden” with the word ‘golden’ printed in a shiny, yellow glimmer. He smiled at the thought of baby angel cooing at him as he tickled her tummy. Harry passed by the shoes next, picking up a pair barely the size of his palm. His mind flashed back to a conversation with Y/N years ago,

“I’m just saying,” Y/N took a bite of a pickle she held on her left hand, “Baby shoes have no business being that expensive,”

Harry chuckled from his place across the counter, “Babies need shoes too, love,’

She grabbed her fork and stabbed a piece of strawberry from her bowl, “I didn’t say the don’t need shoes. For tiny things, they could at least be a bit cheaper,”

Harry watched as she munched on a pickle on her left and took a bite of a strawberry on the other. His tongue poked out in a gag at the odd combination, resorting in glare and a huff from Y/N.

“You should try it instead of judging me,’

“No, thank you. Watching you eat it is enough for me,’

Harry craned his head at each aisle, hoping to find Camille and to distract himself from the endless Y/N related thoughts that somehow returned to his brain. He needed his girlfriend to remind him that he cannot just knock on Y/N’s door and ask her about the baby she has. If he could hold them for a bit because his baby fever was through the roof.

Locating the produce section, Harry whistled mindlessly as he searched for a blonde head of hair, failing to notice that there was a basket in front of his feet. He had kicked it, jolting him out of his thoughts in a hurry.

A man with brown hair sporting an outfit similar to his (sweats and a hoodie), chuckled at him as Harry leaned down to retrieve the gray basket filled with a jar of pickles.

“Sorry man,” Harry muttered, holding the handles up for the man to carry.

“It’s alright, it happens,” The guy had not seen his face yet, too busy inspecting the carton of strawberries.

He decided to continue the conversation, “Strawberries and pickles? Odd combo, huh,” Harry was briefly reminded of Y/N’s obsession with the two rival products.

“Yeah, m’lady loves ‘em. Had a craving in the middle of the night. She’s in the car right now with our lil bubba,”

Harry’s heart fluttered at the mention of a baby. He needed to get his rails in check. He cannot keep having his heart bursting with adoration at the mere mention of a baby.

“I’m Connor,” He said, finally facing Harry after choosing the best carton.

“I'm--,”

“Harry!” Both men turned their heads towards Camille carrying a basket full fruits and green veggies, “Got you some stuff to blend for your smoothies,”

Connor squinted his eyes at the couple and Harry internally screamed because he knew that he and Camille had been recognized. “Harry. Yeah, I know you,” The sudden hostility made Harry confused as Connor grasped his basket from him in a harsh manner, heading towards the checkout.

The rest of the time inside the store was filled with curiosities as Harry carried the paper bags towards the car, barely recognizing Connor’s figure heading towards his own vehicle. Luckily, Harry has parked only a few slots away and could inconspicuously watch Connor and his so-called ‘lady’.

Except, Camille was ushering him to hurry up as she still had a few things to pack at home.

On most days, Harry was used to waking up alone. Used to feeling the shiver crawling up his side, used to seeing the indent left by Camille’s body instead of her. He had grown familiar with the sudden cast of loneliness blanketing him thicker than the duvet on top of his body.

The early morning trip to the store had tired him out, paired with the overthinking of the man named ‘Connor’ that flipped his attitude towards him quicker than he could kick the grey basket with his feet. He flopped back to the mattress after washing his face and brushing his teeth. It was noon when he jolted out of bed again at the sound of his front door opening, voices filling the empty space that had Harry running towards the foyer in case there was an intruder.

His tense shoulders sagged in relief when he caught sight of his mum and Gemma, “Oh, s’just you guys,”

Both women looked up at him at the top of the stairs, “You forgot we were coming over for the weekend, didn’t you?” Gemma teased as she headed to the living room. Harry followed, walking down the stairs.

He scratched the nape of his neck nervously, “No. . . “

“Can you help me reach this, H?” Anne called out from the kitchen.

His mum gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Yes, you did, by the way. Slept through the whole morning. Good thing Camille let us in before she left,”

At the sound of a bag crumpling and squeals echoing the hollow house, Harry scrunched his nose in curiosity, briskly walking where Gemm was currently holding up tiny baby clothes in front of her. “Who’s that for?” He thought of any possible friends that had had a baby recently but couldn’t recall any.

She immediately stuffed the clothing into the bag, nervously placing a hand on her chest, “Gosh, Harry, you scared me,” Her brows went high on her forehead in alarm, sharing a look with her mum trailing behind Harry.

“Well? Did I miss something?”

“Oh, it’s for one of my friends,”

Harry contemplated on his next words, “D-did you know that Y/N had a baby?” It couldn’t be right if his sister and mum knew about his exes baby and not him, right? That’s just plain odd to still be in touch with an ex's family. His brows furrowed in suspicion as both of them declined his question.

“What? Nooo,”

Awkward silence filtered through the air as Anne sipped water from her mug and Harry was slowly putting the pieces together. Gemme dove to the centre of the couch where her phone was when it rang suddenly, surprising all three of them. Harry was quicker, eyeing his mum and sister and inspecting the emoji substituting as a name before sliding his thumb to answer it.

"Hey, Gems! Are you coming to the park? We're waiting for you,”

Harry felt his heart drop to his stomach just as the phone nearly slipped from his clutch. That voice. He could recognize it from everywhere having spent nearly every morning for the four years that they were together hearing it lulling him out of sleep. It was Y/N’s voice calling his sister who was looking extremely anxious.

He tapped on the ‘mute’ button, “What does she mean ‘we’?”

“Nothing! Give me my phone back,” Gemma tried to reach for the device but Harry held it high beyond her reach.

“I saw the picture you sent me. I told you that you and Anne didn’t have to get me anything,” Harry felt dizzy. “Connor and I got some things a few weeks ago. But that skirt is so adorable!”

One part of him was glad to hear her voice. In fact, Harry found himself smiling too, despite what he just heard. Connor. “Harry, won’t be there right? Hello? Have I been talking to myself this whole time,” Y/N laughed a little; she had a habit of talking endlessly when she was excited. It made Harry more sombre, letting his guards down and his arm in reach for Gemma to grasp.

“Hey! I'm just organizing the clothes, see you soon!" Gemma jammed her finger on the red end call, anxiously glancing at her brother, piecing everything together.

“Who's Connor?" Could it be that the Connor he met last night was the same as Y/N’s? The one who bought pickles and strawberries--one of Y/N favourite food combinations? He mentioned that he had a little girl and Y/N just called to meet his sister and his mum at the park. And baby clothes?

Anne and Gemma looked at each other, quickly deciding that for the benefit of Harry that they should tell him at least a little bit. He was looking as if he was going insane, especially with his bed head pointing his hair out in different directions.

“He’s Y/N’s partner”

Harry gulped, reeling his thoughts to a halt, “Partner? And the baby is...?” The last bit of confirmation was all he needed to lash his feelings out.

“Is... waiting for us at the park! Sorry H gotta go,” Gemma was swift enough to gather all the bags without having Harry chase after her. His state of confusion and shock was enough to render him partially speechless and immobile.

“Hey wait!”

Anne garnered his attention, “Oh, Mrs. Q from next door wants me over for dinner. I’m sure wants to see us both. Why don’t you get ready, Harry?” Anne tugged his arm in the direction of the staircase pushing him to stumble up a couple of steps.

Harry was confused. He made the sounds of his footsteps creeping up the wooden stairs, hearing his mum quietly talking to Gemma on the phone, “Elmsway Park, you said? How long till you're home? I’m not sure how long I can keep him occupied,”

With that being said, Harry was out of his house, silently unlocking and locking the door. He was dressed in some basketball shorts and a graphic tee, slipping on the first pair of sneakers he had tossed aside. Harry jogged to his car, typing in the name of the park on his phones’ GPS. The route was only a few minutes away so he decided to take his time, gathering his scattered thoughts along the way.

He parked just beside the playground scouting the trees around the premises. Harry decided that it was the perfect day. The sun was out. It wasn’t too humid and the birds were chirping on the branches. He could see why the playground was full of children running around in delight. The green patches of grass were partially filled with picnic blankets and food to be shared. Families laughed with each other as one in particular caught his eye.

It made him smile at first, seeing just how adorable the couple was with their baby. He exited the car, making sure to lock the vehicle. With his hands jammed deep in the pockets of his shorts, Harry could feel the tethered grass rubbing against his legs. As he got closer, he couldn’t help the twinge of familiarity spark in his chest, recognizing that what he was staring at was Connor playfully chasing a little girl of about two-years-old as she squealed at how close he was getting to tagging her.

Harry stood by a tree, shielding him away from view. He tried to appear invisible without seeming too creepy. He knew that it was only a matter of seconds before his eyes found the woman he had been missing, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

Connor picked up the little girl in his arms, dotting pecks all over the girls’ cheeks, causing her to giggle and push his face away with a tiny palm. And there she was standing outside the raised platform of the playground, coming up to the both of them with a juice box in hand to hydrate the little angel. Connor turned his attention to Y/N, planting the most adoring kiss on her lips that made her smile so wide and the baby cover her eyes. They laughed together, looking like a picture-perfect family.

Gemma sat on the bench, flickering her gaze to the precious family in front of her and to the figure of her brother walking away from the scene. Her heart broke for Harry, and it cracked, even more, when he turned back. This time, watching Connor and Y/N cheer on baby angel to go down the slide. Both of them clapped their hands in enthusiasm as the girl hesitantly slid down the plastic slide. The smile on her face was infectious.

It almost made Harry smile, too.

Harry was crying.

Admitting his feelings when he was younger was quite a task for him. Now that he was nearly in his thirties, the journey of being vulnerable with himself and with his feelings became easier with each emotion that he permitted himself to submerge in. Harry validated those emotions--he was allowed to experience them because it makes him human. It added texture to the ever-growing mosaic that painted who he was as an individual. Adding to the people that surrounded him, influenced by their kind-nature and the goodness of their heart to become who he was now.

And now, it seemed like his emotions increased tenfold. The clench of his abdomen and the harsh jolt of his chest forced his slouched shoulder to stay deflated. His breathing hitched as sobs threatened to take over, throat sore with the effort to keep it all in because Harry was smart enough to know that these emotions coursing through him right now were ones he wasn’t validated to feel. Paired with the latest information that that little girl being held by another man was his own daughter--and that the woman who was glowing with her caring, motherly-instincts was supposed to be his family; it broke him completely.

Quaking thoughts circled his brain and punctured his muscles as if they were attacking him not only mentally, but physically as well in exchange for his past mistakes that he couldn’t quite place if he deeply regretted or not. Was it a mistake to cheat on Y/N? To leave her alone in the exposure of the public eye while she was carrying his child in her tummy?

Harry should have known the day she fell sick and vomited in their kitchen sink. He was, sadly, too busy throwing a subdued celebration of finally having time alone with Camille. He should have noticed the way her face brightened with radiance. Or the way her cravings for strawberries and pickles either grossed her out or completely compelled her to consume more than she usually would.

But Harry guessed that that was around the time his efforts went out the window because he didn’t have to pretend to care as much anymore. Camille appeared to be his one and only. With their relationship coming so close to being revealed and Y/N having one foot out the door, Harry let fate play out the rest. Don’t get him wrong, Harry still loved Camille; that was why his slashed heart still throbbed at the sight of her watching over her little cousin, yet knowing that the topic of children was still not a card on the table.

The distress that he was feeling right now was core-shredding, heartbreaking grief that left a hole in his heart. The worst part was that Harry didn’t exactly know how to fix it or whether he even could. As he walked to his car with hands jammed into his pockets, he was grateful that the hood of his sweater hid his face and the tears sliding down the slope of his cheeks.

His senses were in overdrive, figuring out how to fix the mess he created. Wanting to run up to Y/N and ask her why she didn’t tell him, needing to feel his little girl in his arms. Pinching his skin to transfer the pain he felt in his heart because of the thought that he missed his baby’s first words, her first steps. Was it ‘dada’ that babbled out of her mouth? Did she reach out for Connor when she stumbled over nothing when she walked on stubby legs? Did Y/N mention his name to her?

“Harry!”

He kept on walking despite the hushed call of his name, assuming that it was a fan that caught sight of him and wanted a picture. Harry adores them, but now is hardly the time to fake a smile or act like his life didn’t just flash right before his eyes--quite literally.

The vehicle beeped as Harry pressed the ‘unlock’ button on his key fob, just about ready to pull the door open and shield himself from prying eyes. He flinched when a hand fell on his shoulder, “Harry,”

He looked up to find Gemma panting, resting her hand on the roof of the car, “Are you. . .alright?” Her drifting eyes inspected his face, tinted a slight pink and moist with the salty liquid dripping from his tear ducts.

Huffing in annoyance, Harry clutched the handle to let himself in. Gemma followed his actions, shutting the door and locking it. The tinted windows of the car provided a semi-private enclosure that was filled with Harry’s sniffling and Gemma’s heavy breathing, trying to catch her breath.

“H-her name is Halo,” Gemma began, gulping when Harry paused his ministrations, straining his ears to listen despite the dull thud occupying his vessels. “She’s almost two years old,”

“You said you didn’t know,” Harry’s gruff tone echoed. Gemma anxiously rubbed the ends of her palms against her jeans. “Why didn’t you tell me? You knew all this time and y’didn’t tell me,”

“I-I was--she didn’t want me--”

“Why would she tell you and not me? I’m the one that dated her,” He raised his voice with every syllable he spoke. The frustration he felt from seeing the woman he once loved living the reality they shared together, except he wasn’t anywhere in the picture and that reality was only a fantasy in his life now. “It doesn’t make sense,” He rested his forearms on the wheel, facing the car’s symbol.

“The baby is yours, Harry,”

His head quipped with speed, grazing his forehead on the rounded leather but that pain didn’t amount to the new wave washing over him. “W-what?”

“It’s really not my place to tell,” Gemma said nervously, making eye contact with Harry’s searing yet teary gaze. “She wanted to tell you but you were so happy with Camille. She was posting these things on her Instagram about your trips and Y/N called me crying because you looked so free and happy without her. Y/N didn’t want to ruin what you guys had by dropping this on you,”

"That's-that's my baby?" Harry stuttered over his words while tugging his head out of his memories. Gemma nodded in confirmation. “Then why in the world was she--Halo?--calling him ‘dada’?

“Look, Harry, you’re not stupid. You know why Halo called Connor her dad,” Gemma spoke slowly, “This is a conversation that you need to have with Y/N if she lets you,”

At the mention of the man’s name, Harry couldn’t help but be filled with anger. He barely knew this man yet he received everything that Harry wanted in life. ‘But she’s my kid. I’m her dad. I’m the one who’s supposed to give her kisses and make her laugh,” He mumbled quietly as if his inner thoughts were far too strong to be kept in his mind

He was staring mindlessly at the numbers on his dashboard, hands gripping the leather steering wheel to try and ground himself. "But if that's my baby, how can she call someone who's not her father, dad?" He whipped his head towards Gemma, searching for validation that would make him feel better but the siblings were aware that he lost that title three years ago.

“I think you know you lost that place in their lives,” She reached a comforting hand to pat his arm, feeling just how tense he was under the fabric.

Harry shrugged her off, pinching his brows and pursing his lips as sadness began to swirl down the drain only to be replaced with resentment, irritation and bitterness. The taste on his tongue was hot with anger and his ears felt warm as he wheezed air instead of opting to yell his dissatisfaction near his sister.

“This isn't fair. She's m’baby too. Connor is not her father,” He spat with venom, “I am,” A pointed finger poked his chest. "She knew she was pregnant when she left me. She’s so fuckin’ selfish. How could she do this to me?

Gemma was quick to remind him of his actions, "You cheated on her, Harry.” Gemma cowered back at Harry’s beady eyes glaring at her with an unreadable emotion, stone-cold. “Maybe you should go home. Calm down a little bit,”

“No!” Harry cut Gemma off, “Need t’a hear her say it myself,”

Harry didn’t know what his plan was when he harshly slammed the car door behind him, practically storming on the patches of grass like a mad man. It wasn’t hard to spot the picture-perfect family sitting on a park bench which brought a scowl to his shielded face. He wanted to give Y/N a piece of his mind and it wasn’t necessarily the nicest thoughts that crossed his brain.

Halo was sitting on Connor’s lap while he was feeding her a peeled cupcake. Red velvet with cream cheese frosting--Harry felt like he was punched in the gut. The baked good was Y/N’s specialty and it had a lot of sentimental value to both of them. It was what she baked for their first year together. He could vividly see her frosting-dotted nose, aiming to splotch the cream on his cheek while she laughed. Harry wrapped his arms around her, hugging Y/N from behind and proceeding to kiss her sweet cheek, leaving the perfect opportunity to stain his skin with the frosting.

But he didn’t care if he was smashed headfirst into the cake (as long as it wasn’t ice cream cake)--Harry just wanted to see her smile and hear her laugh heartily.

Y/N was snuggled on Connor’s shoulder, fixing Halo’s hair as she made grabby hands at the confection. He cannot lie--Connor was a handsome man. Harry rarely felt intimidated or insecure, but seeing that this man managed to snatch everything Harry could ever want seemingly in a blink of an eye; Harry felt very jealous.

He pouted, eyes rimmed red and lips quivering wishing that Cory or Connor--whatever that little shit’s name was would disappear so that Harry could take his place instead. Actually, it was his spot in the first place. Only if he didn’t mess up, he thought. He missed Y/N so much! Seeing Y/N in her element of niceness and bright-gleaming smiles sent a truck full of sand down his throat as he gulped his emotion below the surface. The closer he got to them, his vision tunnelled towards Halo; brown, flouncy curls and a cute dimple embedded in her cheek as she giggled, accidentally knocking the cupcake on the ground.  

If that wasn’t symbolism staring at Harry straight in the face; a sign that their so-called relationship really had no chance of reprieve. Harry chose to ignore it.

Connor clutched Halo tightly against him, crouching down with a napkin to clean up the scattered cake on the ground. Y/N was the first to notice him, her forehead creasing as her eyes bulged at the sight of Harry walking towards them. She subtly poked at Connor’s arm, hurting Harry even more because it meant that Y/N felt uncomfortable with his presence.

He was close enough to read her pink lips, “We should go,” matched with Y/N’s frantic actions of packing the juice boxes and the Tupperware of cupcakes into the tote bag beside her. Connor searched the park until his gaze landed on Harry, protectively shielding Halo from him.

Is he serious? Harry thought. That’s my own daughter.

Speaking of Halo, the two-year-old happily continued munching on her new cupcake, frowning slightly when Connor stood up, “Why we leaving, Daddy? Did I do somethin’ bad?”

Y/N sighed, they promised that Halo could play at the park all day and now it was cut short because of a certain someone.

“No, you didn’t, bub. Let Daddy explain at home, okay baby?” Connor hitched Halo higher on his hip, hoping that she wouldn’t ask any more questions until the trio left.

“Who’s that?” Halo asked, pointing at Harry only metres away from them. Her stubby finger outstretched at the stranger in front of her, eyes bright and sparkling with curiosity. There was no sign of recognition painting her green orbs.

Harry gulped, wanting so badly to scream “I’m your dad!” but he knew that Y/N will add that to the list of his mistakes he had made.

“No one, angel,” Connor planted a kiss on her head, looking over at Y/N who had finished packing everything up. He tilted his chin in an attempt to scare Harry off.

But the thing was, Harry was already scared. He could feel his stomach in his throat but vomiting wasn’t the right word to describe it. His heart drooped deeper than the levels of the Earth. He was scared because his family was right in front of him but he couldn’t touch them or hug them in his arms. He was only allowed to look from the outside because there was a small possibility of being forgiven.

“Y/N. . .” Harry began hesitantly. The surge of confidence he had decreased with each passing second. He kept a close eye.

Y/N shrugged the strap on her shoulder, “Leave us alone, Harry.”

He felt his anger disappearing, a new emotion cascading his tear ducts and the blood in his veins. Harry looked back in retrospect; she really did mean it when Y/N said that she never wanted him around again. “I just want to talk. Please, let’s talk,”

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, Harry,”  Connor interrupted, grabbing the bag from Y/N and wrapping an arm over her shoulder, guiding them away from Harry. “She’s happy without you, mate. can’t you see?”

Harry kept his gaze trained on Y/N’s face, actively avoiding eye contact but drifted when Halo’s frown caught his stare. The little girl’s chin was hooked over Connor’s shoulder, squirming in his arms in an attempt to stop him from walking. Halo was smart enough to know that Harry’s expression screamed sadness and her mummy said that “you need to find a way to make them happy” if someone was sad.

“Wait!” Her shrill yell caused both Connor and Y/N to turn around. A piece of Harry’s heart shattered on the floor when Halo pulled Connor down by the nape of his neck, small hand leading his ear next to her lips. Then, she did the same to Y/N, pointing at Harry which caused him to straighten his stance, wanting to impress his daughter even though there was no point.

The couple shared a look before ultimately having Connor walk closer to Harry. Halo gripped her cupcake towards him, “‘ere y’go hawwy,’ She still couldn’t pronounce her ‘r’s’ yet.

Harry began to sob.

It was his daughter and those were the first words she had uttered to him. She didn’t know him yet Halo treated him with kindness and it ripped at his chest because Y/N must’ve taught her that. His palms became wet as tears streamed from his eyes, dampening the sleeves of his hoodie. He didn't care about looking foolish in front of them, not when his daughter saw him as a stranger and called Connor her ‘dada’.

Halo recoiled at the sudden reaction, her lips curving downwards, “Dada, mama, he’s cwyin’,” She tucked her face at the junction of Connor’s shoulder and neck, scared that she made him cry. Halo didn’t mean to make him cry. She felt so guilty that she started spilling tears of her own too, her face contorting into a scrunched expression as her mouth wailed open sobs, matching Harry’s.

Harry’s first instinct was to take a step forward and comfort Halo but he was rendered frozen when Connor shot him a glare, shifting Halo’s body out of reach and he could only see her face over the man’s shoulder. Y/N dimmed her eyes, brows pinching when she couldn’t help but let a smidge of sympathy wash over her. She muttered a few words to Connor, pushing him by the small of his back towards the parking lot.

When they were out of earshot, Y/N faced Harry, “What were you thinking? Are you trying to mess everything up again?” He tried to cut in, “Isn’t it bad enough that we’re talking about this in public? Why must you ruin everything, Harry?” She whisper-shouted, trying her best not to garner them any attention.

“N-no, Gemma told me and I jus’ wanted to see her--and you. Wanted to hear the truth come out of your mouth,” His large hands jammed into his pockets to prevent him from fiddling with them.

“Look, you have no right coming here,”

“I know that b-but I--,”

She held a palm up, “I’m not sadistic like you Harry. If you thought that I wouldn’t let you around her then you’re wrong. As much as I hate to admit it, I do miss you and I wish that you were there for us when we needed you,”

“I had no idea--,”

“Will you let me speak?” Her tone carried irritation. “But we’re alright now and we don’t need you anymore.”

Harry never thought that those statements would ever come out of Y/N’s mouth. “Don’t you think I deserve to get to know her?”

She sighed, “Deserve? Definitely not.” He nodded in agreement. “But I’d live in regret if Halo never got to know her real father. . .”

Harry’s expression lit up, hopeful eyes shooting glances at her, “D-does that mea--? Are you--?”

“You can see her. You can get to know her but only because you’re Halo’s father,” Y/N took a brave step forward, ignoring the way her heart throbbed as if she was being stabbed by a thousand knives. Painful memories drifted in and out of her train of thought until she shook her head to muster them out. It was in the past but she could never forget the feeling of hopelessness taking over her whole body.

With a hand on his shoulder, she continued, “Anyone can be a father and you’re just that. Don’t think that you’re entitled to anything more. You will never be her dad. Connor is. Understood?”

Harry took a deep breath and swallowed a heavy gulp, “I. . .understand. Thank you, Y/N. For letting me back in when I don’t deserve it,” He glanced at the two tiny figures piling in the car. He could just imagine himself plucking little Halo into her booster seat, booping her nose as she asked for the hundredth time why she had to sit at the back and not at the front with them.

“I’m not finished,” She deadpanned, “You are going to be there for her. Not for me, not for us because our relationship is over. You can hurt me as you did before and I can accept it but don’t you dare try to hurt her,”

And it was true. Having endured his painful game once before, Y/N was stronger now. She could take heartbreak as agonizing as that but she wouldn’t dare stand seeing Halo’s teary eyes staring back at her, asking why Harry had left them. She was far too young to experience the feeling when a piece of herself is ripped apart.

“I won’t hurt her. I promise,”

“I heard those words come out from your mouth years ago and look where we are now. Once you hurt her, it’s over.”

“Y/N, t-that’s hardly fair. I am her dad, aren’t I?” Harry cleared his throat at Y/N’s raised brow.

“No, you’re not. We just went through this, Harry.”

“Don’t call me that,” He muttered quietly because she only ever called him ‘baby’ or ‘h’.

“Will you stop? I laid out my cards. If you want to even have a speck of presence in her life, then you have to abide by what I said,” She crossed her arms in defence, “You will never be Halo’s dad, Harry. Connor is her dad. I don’t know how many more times I have to repeat this before it gets through you thick head,”

He opened his mouth to talk, “No wiggle room whatsoever?”

“No. Do I have to write a letter for you to understand that?”

In a moment of hurt and despair, Harry spat out, “Might as well, yeah? Waited over two years to tell me anyway,”

“Are you kidding me?”

His throat ran dry, realizing that he just ticked another box to favour against being a part of his daughter’s life, “I-I’m sorry. I didn't mean to,”

“Whatever. Are you willing to make the sacrifice?”

“This isn’t the place to talk about this,” Harry suggested, wanting to have some sort of foot on the ground so he doesn’t feel like he’s topping over with guilt and sadness. “Maybe you can come over to my house,”

Y/N shook her head, glancing briefly at her phone when it buzzed, “No. I will not step foot in that house again. If you really want to discuss it, you can come over at our place,”

“Your place?” Did they all live together? Well, that was another slap to the face. Not only was Connor playing dad to Halo, but he was also part of the household. Harry’s face must have contorted into a grimace because Y/N sighed softly.

“Yes, our place. Meaning all three of us,” She gestured behind her. “I have to go. You can probably get my number from Gemma; you can text me then.”

“Yes, yes! Of course, I want to talk to you. . . about this, I mean,” Harry lowered his enthusiasm. The small voice in his head reverberating that this was not about him and Y/N; this was about Halo.

“And make sure you don’t bring anyone else,” Y/N said sarcastically, subtly pointing in the direction of the paparazzi hiding behind some bushes. Harry was usually good at spotting them but today was just a puddle of hurt and confusion. “I don’t want her having to read nasty things like I did,”

What Y/N said may have been a side comment, but Harry couldn’t help but take it to heart. Was this a good idea? Sure, he wanted to be a present dad in Halo’s life. However, is it worth it to stir unwanted drama? If only he didn’t cheat on Y/N, all of this could have been avoided.

With his mind in a haze, Harry barely noticed Y/N’s figure moving away from him. He jogged to catch up with her, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. Harry felt numb to the way she shrugged her touch off of her immediately, “Were you ever going to tell me about our daughter?’

Y/N stared at him quizzically, tilting her head a little bit sideways, “I thought I did? Wait!” A look of recognition plastered across her features, “I did try to tell you but you blocked me before the message sent through,”

Harry gulped with realization. He blearily remembered  bitterly blocking her number just as she texted “I need to tell you something,”

Y/N: Since you’re not picking up my calls

I need to tell you something

Y/N took a deep breath as her thumbs tapped on the letters slowly as if to withhold the news from him. She was not at all ready to reveal that she was pregnant and that he was the father but Y/N knew that it was the right thing to do. Despite the fact that he was currently out of the country on vacation somewhere on an island with sandy beaches with Camille. Y/N was aware that this spike of courage was rare and so, she had to do it now.

Y/N: I’m pregnant

And you’re the father

She locked the device as soon as she pressed the arrow to send the message, clutching the phone close to her chest and shutting her eyes so tightly that it hurt. Minutes passed with no response and Y/N was shouldered by curiosity to check if he had sent anything back or simply left her on ‘seen’.

It was neither. The screaming red exclamation mark surrounded by a circle indicated that she had been blocked.

The times when she left missed calls on his phone were for a reason much bigger than the two of them. Y/N didn’t call to beg for him back or to ask Harry to want her again. He was ashamed to admit that he had rolled his eyes upwards every time he clicked on a voicemail she had left, stating, “Hey H, it’s me. Call me back when you hear this. I need to talk to you,” which he deleted without a second thought. She didn’t text him endlessly to politely ask for her things packed and settled for her pick-up because Y/N could not bear to spend another second in a room with him.

It wasn’t that at all.

Y/N was physically moving farther and farther away from him, settling herself into the car before driving off to hers and Connor’s shared house. Halo sat in the backseat, singing along to the radio.

Harry was surrounded amidst the joyful squeals of children and reprimanding voices of their parents.

He stood alone with no one but loneliness by his side and the brisk flash of cameras in his peripherals.

Harry felt out of place.

As a world-renowned pop star, he was used to being paid a different kind of attention in most of the places he went to. He should be used to it. Harry had to take measures in order not to get recognized for stepping into a local coffee shop. Even in hot weather, his recognizable tattoos gave easy access for fans to whisper amongst each other, wondering if it was the right time to ask for a photo or merely share a conversation with him.

His voice--the thing that made him as famous as he is now--was tinted into his fans’ heads. Recognition blaring in their ears when the deep, gruff tone projected the open air. It would be quite disturbing if he had to change the pitch for everyday errands. Harry would rather feel out of place than go to extremes to change who he was.

This lifestyle was something that he was used to, having been under the scrutiny of the public eye for a little over a decade now. But Harry knew that Y/N was a small, town girl practically bickered and poked until she was forced to cough something out to taint Harry’s name in vain. From the way, he preferred sniffing his nose into a hanky instead of a Kleenex. The way he snored loudly when his nostrils felt dry. The way his hair isn’t as naturally curly as it appears to be. All of these things were the borderline crossing of his privacy that she could’ve taken to the press, urging in many articles written about his odd habits or preferences.

Not that he thought Y/N was that type of person to spill secrets in the midst of desperation, but Harry had cheated on her for God’s sake. If she did run her mouth, Harry wouldn’t blame her. He was horrible to her; cheated on her for a year, not even bothering to tell Y/N that his affection was teetering in favour of not hurting her and wanting to keep his side relationship a secret for a taste of adrenaline that came with his less-than boring life.

Harry left her alone while she was going through a life-changing period of her life. To be fair, Y/N didn’t actually tell him. She tried, but the message never reached his cognition. Harry wanted to save his salvation by choosing to believe that it was her fault for not visiting him in person to tell him the news.

Really though, how could Harry possibly know about her pregnancy if she didn’t make the effort to inform him of his own child. It wasn’t like he was supposed to check in on her, his ex-girlfriend, right? That was unheard of. And frankly, Harry thought that the day everything blew up--when she read the letter meant for Camille; Y/N made it very clear that she did not want to speak to him again. So really, Harry was just respecting her wishes.

Y/N was supposed to be the one feeling out of place; not Harry. If only she had told him when she identified the symptoms of pregnancy, he could have helped out. Harry wasn’t sure if he would have left Camille to begin a family with Y/N (if she took him back) or if he was only a parent of support. One that was there for the sake of raising a child but not sharing the means and affection to build a relationship with Y/N.

These were Harry’s thoughts as he sat with the family of three. In between Y/N and Connor as they sat on opposite ends of the round table with baby Halo in her high chair and Harry across from her. Halo was staring at him with wonder and curiosity; a shy type of look that tinted her cheeks a tad rosy and her lashes to peer at the man adjacent to her, wondering why he was joining them in their family dinner.

Harry felt out of place.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Connor asked, feeding the child a spoonful of peas. “Not usually like this,” She shook her head, tucking her arms together and pursing her lips inwards in a sign of rejection.

Halo looked at Y/N who was giving her a soft smile, then to Harry. “She’s not usually like this. She must be shy that you’re here tonight, Harry,” Y/N explained, a tone of indifference that she tried to mask to help Halo feel a little more comfortable.

Harry gulped heavily. His child was uncomfortable because of him. He almost felt guilty for wanting to scoop her up and canoodle Halo in his arms. Harry still hadn’t had the chance to do that.

When the door opened earlier this evening, Harry was met by Y/N’s furrowed brows, firmly reminding him that this dinner was for him to be slowly introduced into Halo’s life. Harry would get the chance to care for her by helping the child with her nighttime routine. That included brushing her teeth, tucking her in, a bedtime story and possibly a kiss on the forehead.

Harry was giddy, to say the least. Harry was confident with kids and could easily mould into what they needed. If they wanted him to pretend to be a car while they jumped on his back as they grasped onto his curls to steer him, he would. If Harry was instructed to be a pretty princess with a plastic tiara on his head, he would exaggeratedly lift a pinky up to play the part. It was easy for him to win the hearts of his little nieces and nephews because they were familiar with him. They knew him as ‘Uncle Harry’ who gave them gifts whenever he came over to visit or if there was a large family reunion.

He couldn’t exactly do that with Halo. She was familiar with him, yes. However, the one time they interacted, Harry had made her cry. It didn’t sit right with him that tears sprung from her corneas when she was only trying to make him feel better, sensing that her parents wanted nothing to do with him.

It wasn’t like Harry knew what she liked either. Did Halo like playing with dolls? Animals? Race cars? The most basic of things, Harry didn’t know. What was her favourite colour? When was her birthday? His resumé was already tarnished since he wasn’t present when her mother fell pregnant. Then, he missed her first steps, her first words. He was just a stranger to her.

And it showed from the way he stepped foot into the kitchen.

Harry heard her before he saw her. Tiny squeals and giggles fell from her mouth as Connor chased her around with plates grasped in his hands. Y/N had scolded the man for getting distracted instead of setting the table. Halo’s noises quieting down when she caught sight of the familiar yet unfamiliar man loitering the doorway.

“‘M sorry, love. Halo wanted to play,” Connor gripped her waist to pull Y/N closer to him, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she fought off a smile from splintering her face. “Right, cutie?”

“Wanted to play! Sowwy mama,’ Halo apologized, tugging on her pant leg.

That was when Harry realized the possibility of ruining the little family they had in the words. But this was supposed to be his in the first place so he couldn’t care less if he wrecked it. As selfish as it may be, Harry thought that there was meaning in him accidentally hearing Gemma’s conversation with Y/N. Sure, it was bound to happen, but it couldn’t have come at a better time. The hole in his heart caused by Camille’s confession of not wanting kids was growing each day, accentuated by the late-night trip to the grocery store and seeing the small baby clothes that took up half of his palm.

It was a sign, right? He felt like he was drowning in a relationship that had no future and the next day, he was met with Y/N and their baby.

Symbolism. As a writer, it was absolutely crucial to introduce some sort of word, item, place, or person and infuse it with impeccable meaning. Irrefutable to the point that that noun is and will be what the writer makes of it.

Round tables were supposed to be better at sprouting conversations than rectangular or square tables. Any conversation between a pair must be shared with everybody who sat around it. There was no room to quietly snicker or ration secrets. Yet somehow that theory was not working. At all.

Harry felt like an intruder sitting in a table that never held more than three people because it was always just them: Y/N, Connor and Halo. As the child got more comfortable with his presence, she slowly started babbling incoherent and coherent words alike, conversing with her ‘parents’ as they asked her about her day at daycare. Y/N asked about Connor’s day at work and the latter reciprocated the question which she was currently answering.

“It wasn’t as busy as I thought,” Y/N shrugged her shoulders, forking a piece of mash. Connor made a sound of recognition, “S’that why you texted me to go home instead?”

Y/N nodded, helping Halo scoop her own forkful of mash, “Yep, I had time to go to the store. I know that you were swarmed at work,” The couple allotted a loving glance towards each other.

Harry’s heart was cracking. He was witnessing what he could have had and He had a front-row seat to it. Was it jealousy? Maybe. He was in a relationship so he shouldn’t feel like swarming Y/N’s smaller frame in his arms, shielding her and baby Halo away from Connor. But he did.

“What about you, Harry?” Connor questioned him with a kink to his brow. Harry could tell that the question wasn’t sincere, purely out of consideration.

In a surprise, Harry coughed a little, reaching out to his cloth to dab the corners of his mouth. Truth to be told, Harry spent the day in a state of anxiety. From the moment he woke up, Harry could feel his chest expanding with nervousness, heart beating loudly and pounding in his ears. He picked at the skin of his lip in the wonder of what he was going to wear. If he should wear cologne or if it will irritate Halo’s senses. He spent the better half of the morning browsing online for toys he could get in a hurry to give to Halo.

Harry contemplated cancelling the dinner because of the uneasy feeling boiling in his stomach. Heightened senses and pinched nerves convinced Harry that he could feel the muscles of his esophagus contracted as he swallowed. Lungs punctured with the tip of the pen he was using to scrawl a list of ideas to build a bond with his daughter

“It was alright,” Harry said warily, “Didn’t really have anythin’ to do today except come here,”

Y/N pulled her head back in surprise, “Sorry, we ruined your day off,”

His eyes widened immediately. Harry’s usual aura of confidence nowhere to be seen, “N-no, no. I didn’t mean it like that,” He could feel stray curls hitting his cheekbones lightly. “I jus’-- it’s m’break so I haven’t got anything for the next couple of months,”

___

Harry’s settled nerves were awoken when it was time to clean up. Y/N insisted on doing the dishes with Connor while Harry bonded with Halo.

“Remember, you’re doing this for her,” Y/N whispered in his ear, causing shivers to crawl up his spine, “Don’t be nervous, Harry. She’s going to love you,” She added, seeing the way he blinked warily at Halo and Connor. Even going as far as giving him a comforting smile.

“Thank you, Y/N--for giving me this,” She nodded in response, jutting her chin downwards.

“Hawwy? Mama said you gonna help me get to bed?” Halo’s green eyes still shone despite the dim kitchen lighting, reminding Harry that this was his and Y/N’s creation. Throughout the dinner, the child had somehow warmed up to Harry’s presence. With a promise of an ice cream trip after her nursery classes earlier in the morning, Halo was quick to befriend the man who she pointed out: ‘has the same dimple as me!’--while poking a stubby finger to her plush cheek, grinning to showcase it.

Harry could feel his heart thud, crouching down to her level, worried of her straining her neck looking up at his tall stature. “Tha’s right. Wanna show me where the bathroom is?” She nodded, grabbing Harry’s index finger to drag him along, exerting his lumbar to keep his height low. He could feel Halo’s feet stumbling, keeping her balance by tightening her grip on Harry.

Their time in the bathroom was fairly short. Halo had learned to brush her teeth by herself. She only needed Harry to guide her up the stool so that she could reach the sink, spitting the foam from her mouth when Harry made a funny face in the mirror, giggling loudly that had Harry’s chest feeling light.

As they walked through the hallway, Harry couldn’t help but let his ears be numb to Halo’s babbling about her favourite stuffed toy. He didn’t mean to. Instead, his neck craned to the door left agape, assuming that it was Connor and Y/N’s with the way the Gucci shoes that Harry had bought her were neatly placed at the bottom of the foot of the bed. He stared down at his moving feet, mood souring despite the bright colours of his loafers imprinted in a little rainbow--the same ones that he just caught sight off and wavered just as quickly.

“You like it?”

He snapped out of his thoughts when Halo climbed on her tiny bed, clutching her favourite stuffed toy. Harry plastered a beaming grin on his face, inspecting the painted room, the small desk pushed against the wall and the numerous artworks taped to almost every surface.

One, in particular, had his heart aching more so than it already was.

It was a hand-drawn stick figure portrait of Y/N, Halo, and Connor. Harry couldn’t even pretend that the skinny, stretched black marker was him because the child messily penned Connor’s name underneath. The figures were holding each others’ hands, oblong faces paired with a curved mouth shaped upwards. It didn’t help that the title at the top was “My Famli” which was crossed over with a red marker and re-titled underneath as “My Family” in neat handwriting that Harry could recognize as Y/N’s.

“Hawwy?” She repeated, wondering why he was staring so hard at the drawing taped on her bedside table. Her brows furrowed when a drop of tear fell from his eye and landed on Connor’s head, smudging the ink and making it blurry disarray as Halo gasped. “Oh no!”

“‘M s-sorry, Halo,” Harry’s tongue felt too thick in his mouth, sobbing threatening to escape but he remembered how that would make his daughter feel. Halo placed her soft hand on top of his.

“It’s okay, Hawwy. I can do it again,” Her timid voice made his heart flutter. Halo didn’t want Harry to cry again and it looked like he was about to so she scurried in planting her shaky legs on the floor. A blank paper was already stable on her desk, grabbing a marker to draw the ruined project again. She could see Harry’s shadow towering over her, thanks to the light projected by her lamp.

Flipping the paper over, Halo giggled, “Go away! Y’cant see it till it’s done,” She used her force to push him backwards which wasn’t a lot so Harry walked backwards until the back of his calves hit her bed frame. “Stay there and play with Honey,”

As she got back to work, Harry searched for ‘Honey’, finding an oatmeal coloured bear with a pot of honey clutched between its threaded paws. He stared at the plush toy for what felt like forever, wondering how special this must be to her. And how Harry wasn’t the one to have given it to her.

“Done!” Halo’s timidness returned, hiding the paper behind her back yet Harry heard the slight crumple.

Placing the stuffed toy on the bed, he asked, “Are y’gonna show me?”

She handed the artwork to Harry while he watched, smiling softly. Halo slapped her palms on her cheeks when Harry turned it over, his breath hitching when he saw the extra figure that she had drawn.

Harry. With a head of wild curls and dotted green eyes that appeared more black with the lighting.

He couldn’t help it when happy tears seared his waterline which Halo mistook for complacence. “You don’t. . .like it Hawwy?”

“I-I do. I love it, honey,” Harry admitted, chuckling slightly as he patted his upper thigh. She climbed onto the bed with him, the wood creaking beneath Harry’s weight. Halo clumsily climbed on his lap, lifting his heavy forearm so she could sneak between his legs.

Harry could feel his nonexistent double chin crowding his neck as he looked down at Halo who was cuddled to his chest, lips turned into a pout, looking at her quick-minute work. “I like it cause you’re there,” She pointed at the ice cream in Harry’s hand before yawning loudly.

“You’re sleepy, baby Halo?’

She nodded, pressing a small hand on his chest. Harry took the initiative to lay the child down on her pillow despite every nerve in his body urging him to stay in that position. But Harry figured that he had probably overstayed his welcome for the night.

Harry pressed a passionate kiss to her forehead, caressing her head gently. Sleep eyes stared at him as he pulled her fleece blanket to her chin. “Stay?” She questioned, fists crumpling to clutched the end of the fabric.

“I can’t, bub,” He informed with regret, shaking his head sadly and his mouth curved downwards. His knee was sore with weight pressed on his knee cap and his lumbar was aching with how he crouched down one too many times this evening, but all pain seemed to disappear when Halo picked up Honey the Teddy Bear from beside her and gave it to Harry. “For me? Thank you,”

Halo laid back down on her bed, “Mhm,”

“Why?”

As a two-year-old, Halo could only say so many words, yet her thoughts went far deeper than her brain could comprehend. That she felt a profound attachment to Harry despite seeing him twice. How pleasant it was to spend even just a small amount of time with him. Harry was nice and gave her forehead kisses and rubbed her head that placed a smile on her face. He cried because he loved her artwork and he apologized when he did something wrong. He contorted his lips into a silly face to make her laugh. He was going to be picking her up from school and Harry said he was going to buy her ice cream tomorrow!

“I dunno,” Halo shrugged, peering downwards to avoid eye contact. Harry chuckled heartily, puckering his pink lips to another peck on her forehead, and then both of her cheeks.

Harry tried to see the brighter side of the situation because it truly was something to look forward to. Having the chance to get to know Halo was something that he should be grateful for. As Y/N said, Harry did not deserve to be a part of her life, despite the fact that he was the father. And somewhere, somehow— he understood where she was coming from.

Harry honestly wouldn’t know what he would do if the roles were reversed; if Y/N were the ones to have been cheating on him. He would not have a clue if Harry would be as kind to her as she was with him. If an outsider were to assess the situation between Harry and Y/N, they would definitely choose her side to be in favour of. So far, Harry still wasn’t able to pinpoint what exactly Y/N had done wrong for him to be swayed by an illicit affair. Was there even a moment in time that he could vividly see where he made the decision to just up and betrayed her trust? Because if there was; either his memory has gone to shit or Harry was more of a jerk than he served himself.

To put things into perspective, Y/N was the perfect partner and Harry had somehow lost sight of that by cheating on her. Don’t get him wrong; Camille was good, great, even. Yet Y/N was an amazing woman who knew exactly what she wanted. Coincidentally, those were the same type of things that Harry needed, too. As much as it pained him to say it, Camille’s rejection of their own little family made him rethink his decision-making process. Harry has learned more about himself in these past few months than he did in his entire lifetime.

For starters, he cleared it up that he had absolutely no excuse for cheating on Y/N except the fact that his retention span lasted a good few years before he was in search of something fresh; something new and exciting. Maybe it scared him just how serious she was in having a family in the future that his subconscious thought that Harry needed one last hurrah to get the infidelity out. Besides, divorces are more complicated when there are children involved.

Secondly, being with Camille was an infatuation that lasted for a long, three years—beginning while Harry was in a relationship with Y/N. Feelings were still there for sure, but he just didn’t know if it was enough to make him stay, especially when Y/N and baby Halo were right there waiting for him. They actually weren’t; Harry just liked to pretend that they were so that he could justify the consequences of his actions.

Camille was trying to make things work with him; Harry could see that. However, there were only so many things that she could do to improve their relationship before she had to change the choices that she had made years prior. Camille really didn’t want to say that she had refuted the idea of not having kids for the sake of making a relationship prosper, but maybe it was what she had to do to make him stay. She wanted a happy life with someone who wanted the same things as her. Harry wasn’t the man who shared a mutual agreement and she was pushed to question her options.

Nonetheless, Camille and Harry stuck with each other because they were all they knew for the past three and a half years. It was definitely ironic for Harry to say that he couldn’t just leave a three-year relationship behind for another woman; because he had done that before. Now, he was a hypocrite too? His ego cannot take it.

Connor wrapped his arms around Y/N’s middle as she washed the dishes in the sink. Their water heater was broken so the stream that came from the faucet sometimes teetered from freezing cold to extremely hot. Right now, she was scrubbing the sponge on the porcelain as quickly as possible while the water was at the right temperature.

Y/N turned her head to the side, pressing a kiss on Connor’s cheek. He rested his chin on her shoulder, bobbing up and down as she moved her arms.

“Is this really a good idea, baby?” Connor asked, staring at the way her lashes fluttered in a pregnant pause, taking a deep breath.

She nodded, reaching over slightly to rest the wet dish on the drying rack. “Halo deserves to at least know her real father,”

And it was true. What kind of mother would Y/N be if she kept a secret like that from her own daughter? The past two years was a constant ping-pong battle of reaching out to Harry and sharing the news to him; then, Y/N would be hit with a shot of realization, wondering if this would ruin his current lifestyle.

“I understand. What if he leaves again? Hate to remind you but Harry left you once before, don’t think he’ll hesitate to do so again,”

She froze at Connor’s words. Y/N was aware that he only said that in good faith, to remind her of how hurt she was at the time and just how long it took for her to be able to finally breathe again.

One side of Y/N urged to still defend Harry. She wanted to turn and around, yell at him because Connor doesn’t know Harry as she does. Harry wasn’t the type to build a child’s dreams up only for him to personally manhandle the heart and crush it in his fist. There was a reason why he was a godfather to so many kids; Ruby, Arlo and Jackson—because he was capable. Harry was a nurturing father who put himself on the back burner in favour of making sure that the little ones were safe and secured. He had no problem being third if it meant that the kids were first, then Y/N, then him.

It all sounded so good in Y/N’s head; so well-rehearsed and very well thought out. The monologue that had somehow stuck in the sides of her brain like a script taped to the wall, ready for the time it needed to be recited. The shredded pieces of paper also reminded her that Y/N might’ve known Harry before, but she certainly doesn’t anymore. In fact, she knew just as much as Connor did.

Just like Y/N had grown and evolved into a new person, Harry was not the same guy he once was when they were together.

“I told him the consequences if he did,”

Connor pulled back, stepping away from her. “But wouldn’t it be better if we didn’t take that chance? Who knows what he might do. . .” He trailed off, grabbing a dry rag to wipe the water dripping from the dish.

Y/N took a leap of faith in letting Harry in. He was a wild card. He could promise one thing but would mean another. Or he could recite a vow and completely annihilate the person as he did with her. Yet somehow, Y/N couldn’t resist the opportunity to give him one chance. Maybe it was because a small part of her craved to re-create a happy family that they had always wanted.

“It’s a risk. I know that” Y/N rinsed a cup, swirling the water in circles. She felt like that whenever Harry was around.

“So why are you still doing it?” Y/N opened her mouth to answer, “And tell me the truth this time, yeah?”

Her boyfriend stared at her with an unreadable emotion in his eyes, lips drew taut in a straight line and arms were crossed over his broad chest. The pressure was immense on Y/N’s shoulders. She was torn between admitting what she had buried deep below the sand or simply glossing over it like a figure skater. Nonetheless, Y/N was on thin ice.

For years, she had flicked away the remaining feelings that stayed with her. But they were persistent in sticking by her side. It wasn’t like Y/N could completely erase Harry from her life--from who she was. She still dressed like him, evidenced by the matching pair of Gucci loafers she chose not to wear for the night in fear that he would coincidentally be sporting the same footwear.

Furthermore, they had a child together! Halo was the spitting image of him. It was hard not to be reminded by a man she once loved when their little baby was both of them mixed in one. So did Y/N still love Harry? She couldn’t deny how much her heart fluttered seeing him stutter over his words at the park. Y/N just wasn’t sure if it was from anxiety and nervousness or excitement and anticipation.

Unbeknownst to the couple, Harry had sneakily closed a sleeping Halo’s bedroom door. His trek back to the kitchen was slow, slightly afraid of the awaiting talk he and Y/N--and possibly Connor-- have yet to have. Harry wanted to be there for Halo and for Y/N every step of the way, but he knew that Y/N would not allow him around if his intentions were to cater to a relationship with her. She was already tolerating him as is.

Standing behind the thin wall that acted as a partition from the hallway to the kitchen, Harry carefully placed his hands against the barrier to steady himself. He didn’t know if his legs could take whatever answer would spill from Y/N’s mouth. If she admitted her true feelings, he would stumble and melt into a puddle. He would be confused, but Harry wouldn’t be opposed to it; he was in a relationship after all. If she denied it--which was the more likely option--, his heart would break silently in his chest.

Harry numbed himself of the guilt raking at his ankles. He was well aware that this was a private conversation but hey; it was not his fault that he had ears straining to listen to Y/N’s reply.

“Do you still love him?” Connor followed up, voice grim. Almost fearful to find out the truth. Harry was, too.

Y/N paused her thoughts as well as her actions, flinching at the sudden intrusion of Connor’s question. She flinched, yelping a little and jumping backwards when the broken water heater subdued the filtering liquid into a burning hot splatter on her skin. Connor picked his feet up in alarm, grabbing at Y/N’s wrist to see the minor injury on the back of her palm.

“Ow!” Y/N whisper-shouted, soothing the ache by situating it between her thighs before shakily showing it to Connor; the doctor.

“Let me see, baby,”

Harry peeked his head around the corner, almost losing his cover with the way his feet instantaneously wanting to move towards a hurting Y/N. Good thing he caught himself. Surely they would put two and two together and realize that Harry was eavesdropping.

That decision came with a laceration to his heart. Harry got a first-class ticket to register that the couple was everything he and Y/N were. The pet names, the domesticity of their actions. The caring glances and constant check-ups.

Deciding to come out of hiding, Harry almost had a heart attack when he turned the corner and was met face to face with Connor. His brows had dipped in worry, face determined to grab some cream to apply to the burn from their first-aid kit in the bathroom. Harry guessed that his whizzing thoughts failed to hear the quiet instruction.

The man jolted in surprise, stopping quickly in his tracks, “Oh hey! Is Halo asleep?” Connor gave him a smile despite the confusion etching in his forehead. Harry nodded dumbly, lips pursing like a fish. “Y/N’s just burned her hand, nothing too serious though,”

He looked over his shoulder to see Y/N eyeing the both of them suspiciously, still clutching the burnt skin close to her. “Oh, I see,”

Connor smacked a firm hand on his shoulder, stepping around him to grab the cream. Harry walked towards Y/N, noticing that she was soothing the painful ache with ice wrapped in layers of tissue. She was softly hissing through her teeth once in a while.

“You okay?”

She tilted her head at him, appearing to be dazed out in her thoughts. “Yeah, uh, nothing too bad,”

Harry kept his distance, leaning on the other side of the counter. He started off by saying, “Thank you for giving me this chance,”

Y/N graced him with a smile, standing up straighter when Connor appeared with a tube in his hand. Harry watched as he unscrewed the cap, placing it beside her. He squeezed a bit of the cream unto his fingertip before applying it directly on Y/N’s skin. She winced, wanting to pull her wrist away from his grip but Connor didn’t let her, “It’s gonna be fine, baby,”

He pressed a kiss to her temple, continuing to rub circles on the burn until Y/N visibly relaxed through slouched shoulders and less shaky breaths.

Harry was staring at them like a kicked puppy. He was fussy and frustrated all in one. He wanted the attention that Y/N was giving Connor. He wanted to be Connor, but both of them were too wrapped up in their little love bubble to notice Harry’s squinted eyes and pinched brows.

He was frustrated because even if he wasn’t the direct cause of her pain, Harry had somehow found a way to continue hurting her and Connor was always there to pacify his wrongful actions. Harry hated that this was how fate had planned his life.

Harry cleared his throat, raising a fist to his mouth, “Think I should go,” His thumb pointed over his shoulder, “Uh thank you again,”

Y/N snapped her head to him, gaze lowering in a timid manner as if she forgot that he was even there in the first place. Connor was the first to reply, “Alright, man. See you whenever,” He capped the tub, shoving it in his back pocket to return to its place.

She leaned on her tiptoes to press a kiss on his lips, muttering something in his ear that had Connor teasingly wrapping his hands on her hips. Harry looked away, taking long strides to the entryway instead.

“Harry, wait!”

He shuddered at the memory of the words that had changed his life when Gemma told him the truth. Harry’s shoe was half-way one when he turned around. “Yeah?”

Y/N was holding a folded brochure, “Halo has a recital this weekend for her dance class,” She handed it to him, “Maybe you’d want to go? You can bring Camille if you want but I think it would be better if you didn’t. She’s still new to this and I don’t want her asking too many questions until she can unders--,”

“I’ll go,” Harry cut her off, unfolding the folded paper. The venue was about twenty minutes away from his place. It was only an hour-long considering the skill set of two-year-olds but it was a fun way for parents to cheer on their little ones. Harry’s previously sour mood was now replaced with giddiness at the sight of his daughter in a pretty pink tutu, twirling on her feet. He was sure that Halo was born to become a performer like him.

She sighed in relief, puffing her cheeks out cutely, “It’s a private dance class. Pretty high end so the security should be okay,”

And there it was again. The constant reminder that Harry was otherworldly to some people. As much as he loved living his lifestyle, he sometimes wished that he was a normie. That was a lot to ask for considering his current situation with his daughter, but a man can dream.

“Got it,”

Y/N leaned over to show him the back of the leaflet, “Just show them this ticket and security should let you in. Halo wanted me to give that to you because she was too shy earlier. I know it’s short notice but I guess she was comfortable enough to ask you,”

Harry blushed at the admittance, mentally patting himself at the back for making his daughter feel at ease in a short amount of time.

“I’ll be there,” He pushed his heel to adorn his sneakers. Y/N bit her lip, she looked hesitant, “It’s okay if you don’t want to go, by the way. I can explain that you’re busy. She’ll probably understand,”

He placed a hand on her shoulder. Harry wasn’t going to ruin his progressive relationship with his daughter on ‘probably’. “Y/N, s’alright. No problem, yeah? I’ll be there,”

Where was he?

It was two days after the dinner and Harry’s promise of attending Halo’s recital was vanishing with each passing second. Every time the hand of the clock ticked to indicate that another minute had elapsed. Harry still wasn’t jogging through the carpeted middle of the small theatre to where Connor and Y/N were seated. Two empty seats were left at the end of the aisle to aid Harry--and possibly Camille--a smooth arrival without creating any distractions.

There were only five minutes left before the stage crew were to dim the spotlights illuminating the room. Y/N was checking her watch what felt like every second, clicking her phone on and off once in a while worried that something may have happened to Harry. Maybe security wouldn’t let him in. The gnawing feeling at the pit of her stomach suggested that Harry just forgot the event tonight but Y/N would cross the bridge when they got to it. Regardless, her nerves were left unsettled as swallowing proved to be more difficult with the way a sip of her water had her gulping audibly. Connor wasn’t there to lend a soft hand on her upper back to help her breathe.

Speaking of, Connor had taken the initiative to visit Halo backstage. The ballet teacher was growing weary of the way the little dancer ran out from beside the stage to stop in front of her parents, asking, “Where’s Hawwy?”.

Halo had done it three times in hopes of receiving an answer aside from, “He’s not here yet,” Y/N tucked a fallen strand of hair from the otherwise sleek bun from beside her cheeks. Her daughter’s form slouching as her pretty eyes watered slightly, “He’s not coming? You told me he was coming, mama,”

Y/N glanced at Connor nervously, being met with an ‘I-told-you-so’ look which didn’t really help the situation. Luckily, the teacher had approached them with a clipboard on hand, searching for the ballerina. The teacher had suggested that one of them stay with her behind the curtain until the show began. Connor volunteered.

“Better hope he comes or else we’ll have to deal with the consequences. I really don’t want to see her heartbroken before of a promise he couldn’t keep,” Connor muttered, following the woman but not before thumbing circles on Y/N’s flushed cheek.

Y/N knew that he meant well. She also didn’t want to comfort a heartbroken Halo because Harry failed to show up where he promised he would be. And now, with a little less than two minutes before showtime, Connor was sent back beside her. Parents were being ushered to find their seats before the lights dimmed and it would be difficult to maneuver through knees and legs.

“Is he here?” Connor questioned, draping a hand on her shaking knee. Y/N shook her head, casting another glance at the auditorium doors. He waved at Halo who peeked her head between the silk curtains, wandering eyes looking at the empty seat beside Y/N.

“No. Hasn’t texted or answered his phone either,” Y/N was about to dial Harry’s contact once more in a desperate attempt to reach him. However, the dimming lights indicated that it was too late. Connor laced their fingers together, offering apologetic eyes and a tight-lipped smile; they would have to nurse a broken heart later tonight.

Harry was in the middle of buttoning his patterned shirt, staring at his reflection in the mirror to silently judge his fashion choice for the night. Was it too much for a kids’ ballet recital? He deemed that it was, stretching his arms to remove the fabric adorning his chest, moving to grab the pink, flamingo patterned shirt instead. He took his time, granted that he had about an hour before the recital started.

He smoothed the fabric over his broad shoulders, pausing when Camille walked in. Harry locked his green eyes at her through the mirror as she walked to their shared bed, sitting at the foot of it.

“What d’ya think?”

She hummed in response, absentmindedly nodding in agreement when Harry asked if it was good. Both Camille and Harry had talked about his relationship with Halo as soon as she landed at the airport. He didn’t want to keep any secrets from her. Fortunately, Camille was very understanding of his situation, offering him support and encouragement to build a bond with his daughter.

What Camille didn’t reveal was that she was a bit antsy of Harry’s relationship with Y/N. She meant everything she had said to him, but it was no guarantee that Harry would ignite another connection with his ex-girlfriend. Not that Camille didn’t trust him. It was just a bit concerning because she believed that how a relationship starts is how it will end. Harry certainly had a history of straying away from his present partner.

Harry was currently in their walk-in closet, finding a pair of slacks that weren't too formal or casual. Camille mulled the thoughts in her head. She loved Harry dearly and would do anything for him. Well, anything except having children of their own. He had mostly accepted her decision, only wincing a little when the topic of a family was brought up by mutual friends and family once in a while.

Truth to be told, Camille was scared. She was afraid that Harry would leave for Y/N because she had Halo. They were the family that he had always wanted and although Camille wasn’t too keen on giving him the same; she was debating on it.

“How’s this, Cam?” Harry retreated with two pairs of pants. On one hand was a pair of straight-leg skinny jeans that he hadn’t worn in years. The other held brown, corduroy, striped slacks. “Or this one?”

She bit her lip, standing up slowly, walking over to him. “What do I think?”

He nodded, innocently jutting his bottom lip at her as he looked back and forth.

Camille swathed her hands on his shoulders, ghosting her mouth over his ear, “I think I like you better without them,” Her finger traced his collarbone, swirling at the dip of his throat. “Without anything,”

Harry gulped harshly. He felt Camille unbuttoning his shirt, gliding her palms downwards until she was cupping his bulge, “Camille, wait,” He flicked his watch to check the time. It took twenty minutes to get there, maybe even more with traffic and parking.

She dragged him to the bed by the ends of his opened shirt, locking her lips with his plush ones. He rested a knee on the mattress, his hands at the back of her head as Camille continued to pull him down.

Pulling away, Harry panted, “What are you doin’?” He laid his creased forehead on hers.

Camille supported herself on her hands, moving her face back until she was able to get a clear view of his perplexed expression, “I was thinking that maybe we could. . . try having a baby, H,” Her voice was soft, almost timid and she was doing her best not to break eye contact to show her sincerity.

Harry gasped in surprise, “Wha--? Really? Are you serious?” His tone gained a pitch as excitement enthralled his senses. The smile on his face was wide and reached his bright eyes. “Baby, are you sure?”

Camille nodded, grinning softly. “Yes,’

“Oh my--this is. . .,” Harry pulled at the locks of his hair, pacing around the room. “This is great! Our own family. Jesus. I can’t believe it,” Tears sprung on his corneas.

He kneeled between her legs, taking her wrist and pressing a gentle kiss on her skin, murmuring ‘I love you’ repeatedly.

“Are you going to keep doing that?” Camille asked, spreading her legs rhetorically. Harry observed her position, nodding enthusiastically.

Another glance at his watch indicated that Harry was absolutely pushing it with being late to Halo’s recital. Yet one enchanting kiss from Camille wiped his thoughts clean. He was getting what he wanted; a family of his own.

Harry puffed a breath of air from his plump lips, chest weighing heavy with the pressure that came from Camille’s head. Her blonde strands were splayed all over his inked chest, fingertips softly tracing over the detailed butterfly on his belly. The giant smile spread over his cheeks made the muscles hurt, yet Harry couldn’t help the expression from overtaking his face.

He was happy.

Camille nuzzled her face closer to him, only looking up when she felt Harry thread his digits through her hair, “Do you think we did it?”

Harry chuckled, wrinkling the skin under his chin as he captured her gaze, “If not, we can always try again, no?” He leaned over to press a kiss on her hairline, breathing deeply to catch the last scent of her shampoo.

The woman cast a glance over the shimmering metal-wrapped around Harry’s wrist, the hands of the watch ticking with each second passing by. “Wanna try again now?”

Harry blinked his lids, tired from their ministration. However, the enthralling feeling boiled from deep within his chest, excitement buzzing all over his vein. The throbbing itch on his fingertip had him doubting the events of today. Like a red shoe-string knot tied over his index, Harry felt like he was missing out on something important.

The discarded shirt laying limply on the floor had Harry’s thoughts humming with whispering desire. Was he too fascinated with the prospective idea of starting his own family that he forgot about the one he already had?

With that thought zooming in his brain, Harry sat up with intensity, accidentally jolting Camille’s upper half with a quiet ‘oomph’ slipping past her lips.

“Sorry! Sorry Cam,” Harry yelled over his shoulder, bending down to grab his shirt. He trudged down the steps, sliding his taut arms over the holes of the shirt as he scrambled to button the stubborn links to close the shirt.

He almost lost his balance on the last couple of steps because of his socked feet against the varnished wood, catching himself at the last minute with a ringed-hand clutching the railing tightly. Harry reached the foyer dresser where he kept his essentials--his keys and leather wallet--, patting down the back pocket of his dress pants to check if he had his phone with him.

Harry paused for a few seconds once he slammed the front door shut, catching his breath. He watched the last rays of sunset projecting over the horizon from where his mansion stood from the hills, wondering if he was too late. Clicking his phone on, Harry’s eyes bulged from the white letters bolding the time.

A few minutes left before Halo’s recital was yet to begin and Harry had to figure out some magical way to make his twenty-minute trek shortened into a mere five minutes. Not including the time he had already wasted frozen on his porch step because of idling fear creeping up his spine. He was scared because there was no way that Harry would be able to make it on time-- he knew that. But he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try.

Y/N cheered Halo on when the curtains swayed to reveal the tiny dancers. Her fluffy tutu made her look absolutely adorable as she stood on her tiptoes, gracing her arms over her head with a practiced smile on her face. The music from the speakers shifted the mood to gather the guests’ attention to the girls on stage, parents cooing at the sight of their small children dancing their hearts out.

Y/N was unofficially assigned to gesture with silent claps and bold thumbs ups’ whenever Halo happened to glance over in their direction. Connor squared his fingers to clutch the edges of his phone, the red button rippling as the time duration changed, recording the whole performance from start to finish.

Despite the fact that the dance classes’ media team made an announcement that a professional videographer would be capturing the whole thing, Y/N wasn’t going to let memories of her child be left in clear-cut transitions. Both her and Connor wanted the recital captured from their point of view. To be reminded of the time Halo rewarded their sleepless nights with a proud, gleaming smile because of how talented and well-rounded she was at such a young age---it was all worth it.

For a moment, Y/N was reminded of the empty seat beside her, the cushions cold and not at all moulded to the shape of Harry’s body. She wondered if his expression would mirror hers; brows drawn in, eyes wide and lips slightly agape as their little girl gave them a subtle wave before doing a twirl.

Y/N couldn’t help but notice Halo’s dimmed features when she caught sight of the gap beside her mum, her ballet slippers skidding of the varnished flooring of the stage, causing little Halo to stumble and fall hard on her knees. A loud thud echoed throughout the auditorium from the hollowness of the flooring, her head staring down at her hands, shoulders slouched as her tutu spread over her minuscule limbs.

Connor shifted his device lower, peaking over his hands to see the child glance around helplessly. Her lashes fluttered around the room; the concerned faces of the audience, her teachers’ gesticulate hands urging her to stand tall, and finally, to her parents’ gentle encouragement.

Y/N shared a quick look with Connor before the couple directed tender smiles to Halo.Y/N mouthed silent cheers, watching Halo’s lips morph upwards, green eyes gleaming against the reflection of the stage light. With one last hopefully glance at the doors, Halo’s pink tights stretched over her knees gathering the strength to push herself up. She shook her head, her adolescent thoughts wondering why she ever put her trust in Harry.

Halo didn’t even know him that well! He was just a person that showed her much of what she wanted, enabling her to the type of love that felt so natural to the point that she pondered why Harry hadn’t been there to drop her off on her first day of preschool. Or made pancakes for breakfast with the small breaks of flour fights in between while Y/N slept soundly in bed. Why Harry’s eyes were the same shade as hers and how her tiny fingers fit perfectly well on the dimples on his cheeks---the same one she had on her plush ones!

The pain in the child’s chest was confusing for her to fully comprehend, yet Halo understood enough that it had to do with Harry's absence in a performance that she was excited for him to attend. Halo tried her best not to look at where her parents stayed seated because she knew that that empty seat would make her lose focus and that was exactly what happened.

With the remaining minutes of the set, Halo blocked the sight of the unoccupied chair, opting to watch her parents instead until the set came to an end and she was to switch costumes for her the grand finale with the rest of the students later on in the evening.

Harry slammed the end of his palm against the leather material of the horn, honking blaring sounds that hurt his own ears. Cursing under his breath, he huffed at the driver who flipped him off for not running through the yellow light, causing Harry to get stuck behind him. He could’ve pressed on the pedal and speedily grasped through the next intersection. Albeit unsafe, but that was the last thing on Harry’s mind.

The digital clock on the dash switched to ten minutes after the performance. Harry was hoping that there was some sort of technical difficulties that pushed the designated time back. Possibly rowdy parents were unable to find their seats because of excitement. And as ashamed as Harry was, he hoped that a child had thrown a fit about performing because that always ate uptime.

His fingertips tapped in a staccato pattern against the rim of the wheel while the other pinched the skin of his bottom lip between his index and thumb. Sweat formed on his hairline, only then did he notice the heat turned up to the highest level from the night before. Harry adjusted the knob, feeling immense coolness from the air vents, thinking once more when the light turned green.

It was an asshole move to honk 0.001 before the light turned green, but every nerve in his being urged Harry to move faster and quicker. He really wished that he could snap his fingers to erase the traffic ahead of him, his mind immediately crossing the bridge to wonder if there was even any parking at the lot--but that was a problem that he’ll handle once he gets out of the congested roadway.

Harry knew better than to text and drive, knowing that his attention span wasn’t meant to be split. Not when his gaze was wild on the road, eyes bouncing back and forth from the time to the seemingly endless traffic. He attached his phone on the car mount, speaking hoarsely to ask Siri to ‘call Y/N’

After the call went straight to voicemail, Harry spewed the words clawing up his throat, “Hello? Y/N? It’s Harry. I’m sorry that I didn’t make it on time. S-something came up and I’m runnin’ a bit late--fucking shit!”

His foot slammed hard on the brake pedal when a sneaky traffic light switched to red. “Sorry I-I’m almost there,”

The beep sounded a few seconds after. Harry was grateful because he had no more words to say after that, realizing that whatever he had to say had to be spoken in person. It was much more sincere--and with the way, his chest was being burdened with guilt---apologies over the phone were never going to fix this.

“Mumma! Dada!” Halo squealed, running over to the both of them. Y/N and Connor were down on one knee, greeting Halo from her height with an engulfing hug with the child in the middle.

The medal on her chest bounced against her body, wrapping her short arms around both of their necks. The couple showered her chubby cheeks with endless kisses, making Halo giggle with delight.

“I’m so proud of you, angel,” Y/N spoke, grazing a thumb over her hairline. Connor handed her a mini-bouquet of flowers which she accepted with glee. “Thank you!”

The dance teacher, Mrs. Dabney, approached the couple armed with compliments for little Halo.

“She truly does deserve that award. Halo comes to class with a friendly aura. Always eager to learn,” Mrs. Dabney shared, evoking a heartwarming feeling in both Connor and Y/N. “You two did a great job raising her,”

Y/N blushed, glancing in amazement at her child. Connor chuckled, kissing Y/N’s temple, “It’s mostly her doing. Such an angel,”

Halo’s grip loosened the slightest bit on Y/N’s and Connor’s hand, zoning out when the adults got into specifics of the choreography and future tuition prices due to the expansion of the dance studio. Looking around to see the families celebrating with the performers, Halo couldn’t help but let curiosity take over her.

Where was Harry?

“It was great seeing you guys,” Mrs. Dabney concluded, rubbing Y/N’s shoulder softly.

Connor examined the emptying room, seeing the families exit through the doors, probably heading out for dinner. The rumbling of his tummy reminded him he was hungry too.

“Ready to go, love?” He asked. Y/N nodded, pursing her lips at Halo’s sad expression.

“Yeah, it’d be best to take this off of her mind,” She kneeled down to Halo’s level, lifting her wobbly chin. Y/N’s heart shattered upon seeing the teary irises staring back at her, “He didn’t come, Mumma. Hawwy didn’t come,”

Halo’s tiny whimpers were a stab to the heart, nearly dropping her mini-bouquet as she sobbed into her mothers’ arms. Her salty tears damped the skin of her neck. “I know, bubba,”

Y/N made eye contact with Connor, who offered her a sympathetic smile, stroking the nape of Halo’s neck in a comforting manner.

Connor crouched down as well, muttering quiet phrases of ‘it’s okay, angel. “How about we get something cake, yeah? ‘Know y’like those, don’t you?”

Halo lifted her splotchy face-off of Y/N, swiping a small finger under her eyes. “A cake?

Her pretty pupils dilated with the light, as well as the prospective concept of her favourite treat dangling under her nose. “Yeah, baby. A chocolate cake,” Y/N voiced out, aiming to remove the pain from the little girls’ heart.

“That’s right, Halo. You can have as much as you’d like,”

Y/N squinted her eyes, she really wasn’t up to a sugar-high Halo nearing bedtime but she guesses it was better than nursing a mopey one. Connor mouthed a ‘what?’, his grin betraying him.

“Alright, let’s go,”

Harry frantically rammed his thumb on the key fob to lock his car. The latch of the door barely grazed past the edge of his sleeve before it slammed shut. He inhaled deeply, not taking notice of the nearly empty parking lot as he ran as fast as he could. Harry’s many experienced years of physical activity--including yoga, football (soccer) and early morning jogs-- have made this so much easier on his calves and asthmatic lungs.

“Fuck,” He whispered out, tightly closing his eyes, backtracking the progress he had made. He unlocked the car, hastily walking over to the passenger’s side to retrieve Honey the Bear situated on the leather seat. With the stuffed animal gripped tightly in his hand, Harry boosted his speed once again towards the entrance.

He stopped in his tracks abruptly when a family opened the door from the inside, almost hitting him square in the nose if his fast reflexes didn’t halt his frame. Harry smiled apologetically, large hands clasping in front of him as he bowed slightly to show sincerity. He could see the flash of recognition whizz past the man’s eyes.

Before he could say anything, the little girl coming to about hip level tugged on his pants, reflecting his attention to her. Harry quickly slipped past the opening, adjusting his vision to the dim lighting. He jogged down the slanted flooring, the carpet aiding him not to skid, especially since he was not wearing sneakers.

Harry panted with exertion, feeling the uneasiness weighing in from the tips of his fingertips, buzzing through his forearms and embedding itself in his taut biceps. His shoulders slumped, using his arms to propel himself towards the front faster. The emptiness of the room should already tell him what he was frightened to face. However, Harry wouldn’t let this stop him.

He dashed straight to the backstage area, not caring if he was caught since he really wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place. Still clutching the toy in his palms, he peeked his head in every room he found only to conclude that it was barren of life, lights switched off and the only sound that echoed was the radio somewhere in the area.

Harry could feel his slim hopes dwindle down the drain. He rested his lumbar on the wooden stage, staring at the Honey the Bear and wondering if it was worth it to miss Halo’s recital for selfish reasons. But was it really selfish?

Halo would have a half-sibling. She would be an older sister. Surely, it wasn’t too selfish of a deed, right?

He sighed lowly. Disappointment showing with the way Harry closed his green eyes in realization. The sound of rolling wheels snapped him out of his destructive thoughts, making contact with the janitor sweeping the dusted floor covered in pink confetti and ruffles. The broom shifted the dirt into one area.

The janitor took note of the paper that Harry held in his hand--his ticket that granted him access to the venue. “A bit late, huh?”

Harry chuckled bitterly at the sarcastic humour. Of course, he was too late, emphasized by the emptiness of the room and the barren reverberation of his voice.

“Just a bit, I guess.”

“Got a lot to make up for, then?” The man asked him, whistling during the pauses they took in the conversation.

Harry nodded, nudging his chin outwards. “S’messy out there, yeah?”

“After every show,”

Harry glanced around at the amount of tidying there was to do, halting suddenly at the row near the stage. He briskly walked over the little ways towards the spot, focusing his gaze on the stickman drawing on the blank paper, moving slightly with the wind.

“Harry”

The label at the centre of the page was capitalized in black marker with stars around his name. Brown circles of curly hair rested on the oblong shaped face that Halo had drawn. His arms, legs and body were thin lines but the smile on the drawings’ face was wide--similar to the one Halo had drawn in her bedroom. The sheet was crumbled, creasing more with the compression of Harry’s grip.

He messed up. Really bad.

With a sleeping Halo nuzzled under the crook of Connor’s arm, the little family cuddle on the soft cushions of the couch with a Barbie Mermaidia movie playing on the screen.

It was only about halfway through the plot when Halo fell asleep. Her hair was freshly washed, smelling like grapefruit and berries. The tendrils of her hair were released from the tight bun which sat at the top of her head for the majority of the night.

Her tired body was exhausted from the activities of the day, begging for relaxation and sleep that came easily with the way her tummy was filled with yummy food. Halo mumbled something in her sleep when the doorbell rang. The loud sound ringing through the house.

Connor hummed in his sleep, shifting his neck to rest more comfortably on the neck of the couch. Y/N rubbed her eyes clearly, checking the time and wondering who could possibly be ringing the doorbell at this hour. She stretched her arms over her head, releasing a sleepy yawn.

She stuffed her feet into her slippers, shuffling the soft footwear towards the front door. Y/N peaked through the hole to find Harry’s face filled with worry. Rolling her eyes, Y/N unlocked the barricade, swinging the door open.

“What do you want?”

“Look, before you say anything,”

Harry paused, looking up at Y/N with a pleading gaze.

“I told you not to hurt her. I told you that you had one chance and you messed that up,”

“I know but I was--” Harry shut his mouth instantly. What was his excuse?

Y/N raised a brow, annoyance wafting from her body language and the firm tone of her voice. “Well?”

He gulped hard, shown by the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “There was traffic. . .”

The woman in front of him laughed humorously, “Oh there was traffic? That’s what you’re going with? You could’ve left your house early, you know?”

He agreed with her, “I know, but I--Camille, s-she told me--”

“Camille?’

Y/N crossed her arms, kicking off the doorframe where she previously rested her body.

Scratching the nape of his neck nervously, Harry meekly responded. “Camille said that she wanted to start a family. She didn’t want to before but she must’ve changed her mind,”

Harry’s usually syrupy speech increased in speed. The information swirling around Y/N’s head as she tried to make sense of what she was hearing. He missed his daughter’s recital for what?

Y/N shook her head to herself. There was absolutely no way that she could get herself to think that Harry was capable of doing that but the facts were stacking up against him.

“Please tell me you didn’t,” She spoke, hating the way a pleading tone was drifting in and out. “Oh God, you did!”

Harry didn’t say anything; he could barely move. He stayed stoic and let his silence do the talking.

“You missed your daughter’s recital to have sex?” Y/N said incredulously, trying to keep her volume down to no wake up the sleeping individuals in the living room. “You’re despicable,”

“Y/N, you have to understand. I just wanted--,” Harry paused, his gaze landing on the small child creeping behind her mum.

Y/N snapped her neck to look behind her, seeing Halo walking over towards them in the chilly night air. “I’m sorry, did Mumma wake you up, bub?” She stroked her head softly, feeling Halo nod.

“Hawwy?”

“Hi, my love,” Harry greeted, crouching down to get closer to her. However, the child moved away from him, hiding behind her mothers’ leg. Harry felt the pinch in his heart at the action.

“You didn’t go,” Halo said, stating the obvious, yet both Harry and Y/N knew that the statement ran deeper beneath the surface. “You pwomised Mumma you’d come. I was waiting fo’ you,”

“I know, baby,” He cooed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t make it, angel. I promise I’ll come to the next one,”

Y/N snickered under her breath, like hell she was inviting him again. Harry stared at her briefly with pain in his eyes.

“Look who I brought,” He revealed Honey the Bear in her sight, giving a smile in hopes that that would make everything better. Halo merely stared at the toy in his hand, a sad pout on her lips. She was even hesitant to make eye contact with Harry.

With a bit of coaxing, Halo took the bear from Harry, inspecting the animal with a careful gaze before throwing it on the dirty ground. Y/N tensed at the action while Harry audibly gasped.

“I don’t want it and I don’t want you!” Halo ran back inside the house, disappearing through the wall that separated the living room.

Harry slowly picked up the dirtied fur, holding it by the clean area. Y/N felt bad for him but she knew that he deserved it. There was only so much she can do to console the child to forgive him and Halo was pretty adamant about not doing so from their talk earlier.

“I hope it was worth it, Harry.”

“No no no, please. Give me one more chance,” Harry slumped his knobby knees on the welcome mat, grasping at Y/N’s exposed ankles from the short stature of her pyjama pants.

Y/N tried to kick him off, but he was insisting. “Get off of me, Harry!”

“Not until you give me another chance. I can fix this,”

“No, you can’t,” Y/N stayed firm, “I made it very clear that if you hurt her, it’s over. And you did. Over what? So you can have sex while Halo spent her time looking for you? Do you know how helpless I felt seeing the way she looked at the door, hoping that you would walk through?”

Harry expected that, but it did not do grace to the guilt that was mounting.

“She fell, Harry. Halo stumbled on her spin and she fell because she saw the empty seats beside me and saw that you weren’t there,”

Harry stood up to his full height, staring at Y/N and waiting for her to tell him that it was all made up. “I-I didn’t mean to,”

“Of course, you didn’t. You never mean anything, do you, Harry?” Y/N stated exasperatedly, “You didn’t mean it when you said you loved me, that we would wed and that we would start a family. You didn’t mean jack-shit when you promised not to hurt Halo--your daughter--but you did. You didn’t mean it then and you don’t mean it now. So please, save both of us the energy because we both know that you’ll break it over and over again,”

“T-that’s not true,”

“Is it not? You hurt me. I’m still hurting from what you did to me and I tried so hard to protect Halo from you. I gave you a chance because I couldn’t take the burden that Halo might never meet her real father and this is what you do?” Y/N closed the door behind her when she took notice of her voice rising.

“All you do is hurt people, Harry! You don’t care about anyone but yourself. You wanted a family so bad that you leave the one you could’ve had to start a new one,”

“That’s bullshit,” Harry said more firmly. “You would’ve never let me back into your life and you know it,”

“That’s not the point! I wanted you to be present in her life, not mine,” Y/N coughed a little, lifting a balled fist towards her mouth, “We have a child together for God’s sake. I love you, Harry. I still do and I don’t think I’ll ever stop because every time I look at Halo, I’m reminded of you. The good, the bad, the happy and painful memories. I can see it all playing in my head when she looks at me with those big green eyes or gives me a smile and your dimple pops into my mind,”

Y/N sighed, “I love you but I know my limit. I wanted you around for Halo, and now--I understand why we would have never worked out. You’re too selfish,”

“Selfish? That’s hardly fair, love. I tried my best, didn’t I?”

“That’s not enough. You’re too enthralled by the idea of this perfect family that you run back and forth between Halo and I or Camille. When the other doesn’t play out the way that you want, you change gears so fast to the other. That’s selfish in and of itself.”

Y/N lingered her hand on the golden doorknob, twisting the mechanic to open the door. “You can’t just leave when things don’t go your way, Harry. That’s not how it works.”

“What does?” Harry stuttered out.

“That’s not how love works,” Y/N smiled sadly, looking into his eyes as if trying to take him back to their relationship years prior. “That’s not how a family works.”

Harry’s expression crumpled, wrinkled his eyes and dampened his rosy cheeks.

“I hope you find your happiness one day, Harry. It wasn’t with me and it’s not with Halo. Wherever it is, don’t mess it up as you did with us.”

Harry was rendered speechless.

His mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. The arm of Honey the Bear dangling from his fingertips as he watched the door shut behind her.

Over the years, Harry had tried desperately to get in contact with Y/N and Halo. All he wanted was his family back. His relationship with Camille was spiralling down the drain with each passing day, dwindling hopelessly, and Harry felt helpless.

He had overheard that Y/N and Connor had moved houses-- somewhere a few miles away. He had persuaded her old landlady to give him her forwarding address, and he had flown out that very weekend. He wanted his family back-- no, he desperately needed them.

He doesn't know what exactly he's expecting when he shows up at the doorstep, but Y/N's harsh tone of voice and unwelcoming demeanour was not it. He had hoped-- prayed, that there might be a sliver of a chance that she might forgive him; that Halo might forgive him. He hadn't seen the little girl since that night; Y/N hadn't allowed it.

"Come here again and there will be a restraining order sitting on your doorstep, Harry, I promise you that. And unlike some people, I keep my promises."

"A restraining order--? Y/N that's not fair!"

"Take it up legally if you'd like. Want to have a custody battle? Bring it on. Let's see whose side the judge is on after they find out that you cheated on me while I was pregnant with Halo."

"I didn't know you were bloody pregnant, dammit!" He yelled, tears pooling in his eyes.

"Oh wow! That makes it all better! You didn't know I was pregnant so you cheated on me. Nice. Great going, Harry!"

"Please for heaven's SAKE stop fucking calling me that!"

"Get out, Harry. Leave. I don't want you here. She doesn't either. And if you think I'm joking about getting a restraining order-- think again. I'm serious. Do not come near my daughter."

"She's my daughter too!," He all but shouted, "you can't keep her away from me!"

"Watch me."

And with that, she slams the door shut in his face, ignoring his incessant knocking and pleading through the wooden panel.

It was years later.

It was a cold February morning, and Harry was fresh out of a hot shower, and he put on a woollen jumper to keep from freezing.

The weather was distasteful, dull and cold, but a smile pulled on Harry's lips. It was her birthday. His little girl's birthday. So what if he hadn't seen her in 10 years? So what if Y/N hadn't spoken to him in a decade? Tears stung in his eyes at the thought that he was missing yet another of his baby girl's birthdays. Except, she wasn't really a baby anymore. She turned 13 today.

There was nobody on the planet he felt more love for than that little girl, of that he was certain.

So when Harry sat down with his letter pad and ink pen, his thoughts drifted to the short span of time he had spent with her. He reminisced on her sweet smile, the tiny dimple that carved into her cheek. Her tiny lips quirked into open-mouthed laughter. He walked to his closet and picked up Honey the Bear from among his clothes.

"Hi," he grinned, talking to the bear as if he were 5.

He sat the bear in his lap and sat at his dining table, and began to write. To his daughter, his little love. He knew that a letter wouldn't make up for what he'd put her through. He didn't even know if he was going to send her this letter, or if Y/N would let her read it.

But what's the harm in trying?

From 'Hawwy',

Hi, my love

______

Reading this again brought a lot of emotions to the surface

[heyheyloki]

Meddle About

Summary: Spencer starts to get jealous of your relationship with Derek

Spencer Reid x M!Reader

Requested.

Word Count: 2775

Another day, another case. That’s just how it is for you. While you did work more than sleep, which you swear should be illegal, you did have some form of entertainment. The entertainment coming from your friends, but more specifically Derek Morgan. The two of you weren’t a pair to be messed with, in fact, most people you two meet end of thinking you both are dating. Which, isn’t the case. In fact, you already had eyes on someone. Though, when you act the way towards Derek to your other co-worker and friend Spencer Reid, you get the vibe that he’s uncomfortable with your flirting. So, you stopped, and so now your comments have only been at Derek, and sometimes Hotch but that’s only to piss him off. 

You weren’t the most corporative in the morning, in fact Hotch and Rossi tried to make it a priority to stay away from you until you had at least two full cups of coffee. However, your foul morning mood was something that Derek had fun playing with.

Before you could sit down at you desk, an arm snaked its way around your shoulders and halting you from moving any further. You knew who it was, so when you turned your head to stare at Derek’s smiling face, you gave him an unimpressed and frankly annoyed look. 

“Can I help you with something, Morgan?” You hissed. You never call him by his last name, even at work. 

“Ouch, now that’s cold.” He stated. “You need to learn how to be a morning person.”

“I don’t think that skill is required to do my job, but I’ll make sure it keep it in mind, sugar.” You yawned out. 

“Jeez, you are a hand full in the morning.”

“You’re just figuring that out now?” You stated. A pause started between the two of you before laughter surrounded the both of you in a peaceful and relaxing manner. 

After, you shooed Derek’s arm off your shoulder and moved down to sit at your desk. You looked up at the handsome man with a soft, playful smirk as he lowered his body down and gripped the arm rests of your chair. His face was close, but you didn’t mind. 

You started him up and down, making sure he noticed your eyes wonder before asking, “Damn, what did I do to deserve such a nice view?”

Derek moved his head on a tilt, his enchanting smile on full display. “Who knows, but I could totally give you a better one.”

“Yeah?” You hummed out. You were about to make a rather teasing and dirty comment before noticing a fellow co-working walking in. He had two cups of coffee in his hands as well as a purple scarf wrapped around his neck and draped over his sweater. “Oh, Spence is here.”

Derek’s playful mood died down quickly as he stood up straight and allowing you room to breath without being hit by his cologne. When Spence came in front of the two of you, he was biting both of his lips as he stared awkwardly between you both.

“Good morning,” you hummed out with a gentle smile.

“Morning.” He awkwardly stated before noticing the beverages in his hands. He soon after outstretched his arm to you, offering you the other coffee. “Got you this. Your favorite.”

“Oh, thanks, Spence.” You said as you tried to hide your nerves from the one in front of you. It wasn’t like he did this everyday, and the fact that he did at least told you that he thinks about you when you aren’t around. 

“It’s no problem,” he uttered out before shuffling out to his own desk, which wasn’t too far from your own. 

You smiled softly to yourself as you took a sip of the coffee Spence got for you, completely disregarding the other that started to get cold. It wasn’t until you heard some laughing that you looked up and started to notice Derek still hanging around. He took this time to take a seat on the corner of your desk, basically claiming that spot as his. 

“You got pretty boy wrap around your finger, don’t you?” He laughed out. He wasn’t even asking a question, more like stating a fact.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You asked as you removed your lips from the plastic top.

“Just now,” Derek said as his face contorted into pure confusion. “Wait, you’re telling me you’re a profiler and you can’t even figure out on your own how much pretty boy likes you?”

You stared at your friend for a moment. While your heart jumped at the words, you know in your gut it wasn’t logical. “I don’t think so. I mean, he always looks so uncomfortable when I try and make a move so, that’s probably not likely.”

“He just awkward.” Derek stated, the words itself making you raise a brow as you took another sip of the coffee.

“Still don’t think that’s the case,” you hummed out as you turned back to your desk that was littered in paper work. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better though.”

The case was another gruesome one. Three dead, one missing. It was purely FBI jurisdiction thanks to the killer kidnapping the fourth victim in the next state over. You were at least glad you didn’t have to deal with local cops, seriously, most if not all of the times they would be complete assholes. 

When you got on the plane you took your seat next to Derek and across from Hotch and Reid. Everyone else scrambled about the private jet. This was the usual seating pattern that would happen, and then on the way back home you’d probably switch out for the couch to take a nap.

“You got your two cups in?” Hotch asked cautiously, his eyes piercing into yours.

“I got three actually.” You hummed out as you flipped through the case file. Though, you soon put it down on the table and crossed your forearms over it. Your body leaning forward as you asked with a suggestive smirk, “If you have a question just ask, Hotch. C’mon, I don’t bite.”

You noticed your boss tense up before letting out a sigh, his eyes going back to his own file as he mumbled, “Why did we hire you again?”

“I heard that.” You stated with a dull tone of voice. You leaned back into your seat, the small chuckles of a familiar someone coming into your ears. You turned your head to Derek who had an annoying smile plastered all over his face. “You got something to say, chuckles?”

“Hm? Me?” Derek sarcastically asked. “I don’t know why you have to lie to Hotch like that.”

“And how exactly am I lying?” You questioned, everyone’s attention now drawn to the conversation at hand. 

“Well,” Derek trailed off as he moved closer to your body, his eyes never unlocking from yours. “If my memory serves me correct, you do bite.”

You heard a few of your co-workers laugh in amusement at the response, others kept to themselves with a small smile, and one remained unnaturally quiet as he watched. 

You playfully shoved Derek back. “In your dreams, lover boy.”

Derek’s smile never faltered, in fact, you swear it grew larger. “You, sugar, are the only thing I wish to see in my dreams.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that one, your elbow coming out to rest on the table as your hand suddenly now held onto your face. Your gaze kept on your best friend before saying with a seductive tone, “If you keep talking like that then maybe it doesn’t have to be only in your dreams.”

While Derek did keep your attention, Derek himself couldn’t help but gaze over at Reid for a moment. He hadn’t heard from the genius for most of the plane ride, and when he looked at him, he instantly knew why. His gaze was flickering between his work and you, this look of irritation and uncertainly heavy in his chestnut hues. Derek has seen a lot of sides of Reid, after all he was like a brother to him. However, this look was new on Reid, though it was one Derek could identify easy. His little genius brother was brimming with jealousy.

During the case Derek got paired with Reid while you stayed at the local police station to set up a timeline for everyone when they get back. As the two were driving to see the family of the kidnapped victim, it was uncomfortably silent. Derek was currently driving so it didn’t bother him so much, but he could tell Reid was on edge with his foot tapping. 

“Yanno, kid, you’re going to have to do a lot better to get [Name] to notice you instead of just getting him coffee every now and then.” Derek suddenly said, his words making Reid immediately gaze over at him and finally stop his tapping foot.

“What’re you talking about?” He asked.

“Playing dumb isn’t one of your strong traits, yanno.” Derek said. “I see the way you look at him.”

Reid sighed, giving in. “Why are you telling me this? Don’t you like him?”

Derek couldn’t help but laugh at that one. He knew he shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t control it. “Me and him? Listen, pretty boy, unlike you two I only like women.”

Derek watched Reid’s face flush up with a soft pink color, his eyes keeping to the ground as he said a quiet and nervous, “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, kid.” Derek hummed out. “But instead of getting jealous, maybe ask him out.”

It wasn’t until later in that day that Spencer actually saw you again. You were tapping a pen against your forehead as you wrote up a report for the day for Hotch. It was something he made you do frequently, so it wasn’t an unfamiliar sight to see. Reid knew you didn’t notice him until he sat down besides you by the way you flinched.

Spence pressed his lips together awkwardly before letting out a soft, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You let out a few deep breaths before a smile come onto your lips. “It’s fine, Spence. Why don’t you keep me company until I finish this up? I’ll make it worth your while.”

Reid’s eyes flicked everywhere but your gaze when you said that. There was something suggestive in the tone of your voice when you spoke that last sentence. The way it flowed off your tongue and the way your eyes sparkled with a hint of sin made thoughts flood into Reid’s mind like raging waters. He thought things that he thought he would be able to suppress around you after all this time, but that didn’t seem to be the case. 

“Uh, okay,” he uttered out as he watched your hand come out to touch his own that laid on the table in a comforting and friendly manner. He knew that’s how it was intended to be, but when your skin touched his own it was like you lit a match to his skin and made it burn with no remorse.

You smiled and nodded before going back to your work, your lips taking in the end of the pen. Reid knew it as a habit of yours when you were thinking, it was your faster way of getting things. A more rushed way. This fact alone made Reid shuffle a bit in his chair. He began to question you were so eager to finish up your work, it wasn’t like he had any plans after.

“You don’t have to rush, yanno, I, uh, don’t have anywhere to go.” Reid said in an attempt to make you slow down.

You didn’t look up from your paper as you began to write. “It’s okay, I wanna get this down so we can do something. I don’t want to keep you waiting.”

As soon as you said that, Reid went quiet as his thoughts spiraled like a love-sick school boy. There was calmness in your tone, yes, but the words themselves made his heart pound like a tiny machine gun. His nerves were through the roof and he felt like if he got caught staring it would be like his secret would be scattered about the room for you to easily identify. 

He couldn’t get over a lot of things about you, the most obvious ones were your smile, personality, and eyes. Though, the more complex ones dug deep into your personality. He loved the way you freely showed yourself off. There was thing one time you both went undercover and instead of treating it professionally, you made it seem natural, like you were just out on the town with your boyfriend. 

Boyfriend.

The word itself was so foreign to Spencer. He didn’t normally think about stuff like that, but when it came to you, every time he saw you he wished that you would greet him with that smile you show off to Derek and say with a loving tone of voice, “Hey, baby!”

“Spence?” A voice called out to him. Spencer completely had gotten back into reality when he heard your voice, his mind suddenly focusing 1000% on you when he stared into his eyes that he got lost in. You somehow had infected his mind, his veins, almost like a drug. However, his was one he didn’t want to get off of.

“Spence? You okay there?” You asked with a concerned tone, your gaze softer than normal. “You spaced out for a minute there and you rarely space out unless it’s about something important. Spill it, boy genius.”

“Huh?” Spence said quickly, his pitch going higher than normal for a moment. “What do you mean?”

You turned your chair so you could face Spence more, your pen dropping on the almost done paper. “Spill it, what is that big brain of yours thinking about? It’s got to be important for you to literally space out on me of all people.”

“Okay,” Spence nodded as he bite both of his lips. He leaned forward, closing more distance between the both of you. “Have you ever wanted to kiss someone, a lot, but, uh, you just couldn’t?”

Spencer didn’t know why but he almost saw a hint of sadness rise to the surface of your memorizing colored eyes that he could get lost in. His heart felt like it skipped a beat for a solid moment, he could feel it from the minute it started to the final moment that it ended.

“Well, I mean,” you uttered. Your voice was softer than normal but you quickly regained your confidence when you said, “What’s exactly stopping you?”

Reid’s eyes danced around for a moment. “I don’t want to be wrong.”

You sighed as you leaned back in your chair. “Spence, no offense, but I highly doubt anyone wouldn’t want to kiss a guy like you.”

“A guy like me?” Reid asked and licked his lips. “I’m not, uh, I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You’re a great guy, Spence. I mean, you’re smart, have a great job at a hella young age, you do that thing with your lips when you’re nervous, spit out random facts when no one asks,” you laughed. Your words trailing off before softly saying, “and well, you’re just you.” 

Spencer was at a loss for words, his eyes darted between your eyes and lips. He hesitated, though only for a moment until those words you spoke came back to him, “What’s stopping you?”

In his mind, he lost all reason to have a specific reason. Then, it happened. Without any warning Spencer leaned in as fast as he could and connected his lips to yours, his hands cupping your face to make the kiss as passionate as possible. There was a small pause in the beginning though, a pause to make sure you were okay with it. However, when he heard you softly whispered, “kiss me again,” he knew he had finally won.

Outside of the small office Reid and you were in, a few agents stared at the display from the outside. Hotch rolled his eyed before walking away while Rossi, JJ, and Morgan stayed for a moment.

“Finally,” JJ said. “How long have those two liked each other?”

“I would say maybe since [Name] got here,” Rossi suggested. “I’m pretty sure I saw Reid give him actually heart eyes this once time at a meeting.”

“Those two need to get a room, look, Reid is all over him like some kind of starved dog.” Morgan said as he leaned his head a bit to side to get a better view. “I’m pretty sure I saw a hand go somewhere it’s not supposed to go.”

“Let’s give them some privacy.” JJ said with a smile as she dragged the two older man by their arms out of the building forcefully.

[phlox238]

i wrote a pretty long rymin fic and half of it is min being anxious and getting advice from a lesbian at a gay bar,,, it sucks but here it is anyway

2.5k words this is the most ive ever written

"So," The girl began, gesturing wildly with her hands. "You think you're in love with your best friend, who you've known since you were born, and you're in a band and traveling across Canada and the USA with. What did you say your name is?" 

"Oh, fuck." Min-gi sighed, letting his head rest in his hands. "This is weird, isn't it? I barely know you."

"Nah, I just thought that, if we're going to have a slightly drunk chat in the back of a gay bar, then we should know each other's names. I'm Eryn, and you?" Eryn stuck out her hand, the many bracelets she wore on her wrist clanking together. 

Min chuckled a little, then took her hand and shook it. Her dark skin was warm, which was surprising, since this part of the bar was near freezing. "Min-gi. But you can call me Min." 

"Awesome. So, tell me about it, Min." Eryn tightened her ponytail, leaning forward on her arms. 

"Tell you what about it? There's so many things that I could say." He was so caught up in this gay crisis stuff that he hadn't even considered stopping for a moment to really think about it.

Eryn shrugged. "Whatever you want to say. Get stuff off your chest, just let it out, if you want to. There's like, nobody else back here. Doesn't really matter, right? I'm not judgy." 

"Okay...well, he has a girlfriend, first of all; has had many of them. So he's not into dudes." Min crossed his arms. 

"Hey, he could still be. Just because he dates women doesn't mean he's straight. Could still be into guys. Don't give up hope just yet, okay?" Eryn laced her fingers together, as if she was planning something. The dark lighting of the bar didn't help anything.

“Damn,” Min rubbed his eyes. “I didn’t know you could like both.”

Not without laughing at him first, Eryn started to explain. "Oh, wow, you really are new to this, huh?" She chuckled a little more, shaking her head. “That’s okay. There’s a lot of different ways to love people, you just gotta figure out what works for you. Oh, also; it isn’t just both. There’s the genderqueer people, too, don’t forget about them!” She smiled. 

Min didn’t quite know what genderqueer meant, but he figured he could find out later. He was asking too many questions already. "Damn...how do you know all of this? I only realized I was, er, gay, like six months ago."  Min marveled at her, the same way a nerd at school would marvel at the 'cool kids.' And honestly, she really looked like one, with her ponytail and undercut, her yellow, patched leather jacket, even the flashy jewelry she wore.

It made Min want to start dressing differently. Dressing cooler, like Ryan, like Eryn. Maybe he could.

Eryn grinned wider. "Oh, you know. It's just things you pick up along the way. I've known that I'm lesbian for a long time, since I was like 11. And I'm 21 now, so that's a long time. Lots of experience." She shuffled a little in her seat, taking another drink of beer. "Anyway. We're getting off track, aren't we? Keep talking, man." 

Min laughed, a real laugh. "Okay, okay. A year ago, we, er…" He reached desperately for an explanation for the train, but decided that, just maybe, he could tell her. Really, the worst that she could think of him is that he's a drug user. "Can I tell you something? It's going to sound absolutely insane, probably, but I just. Need to tell someone." 

She looked concerned, her dark brown eyes wide, but nodded anyway. "That's real ominous. But sure, go for it."

"Okay. So. Stick with me, here. A year ago, him and I got on a train, right? But then, there was another train door within the train. We just...went into the door. Well, the bastard threw my keys into it and then ran in, so how could I not follow?" Eryn was looking at him intently like she understood. Min could tell he was pretty drunk by now; he'd never be able to open up to someone this much sober. But that's okay. More than okay, really. 

"It gets even weirder from then on. Ryan- that's his name, by the way- and I woke up on a giant, infinie train in the middle of nowhere. Gotta be pretty unbelievable, though. You probably think I'm on drugs." Min sighed.

Eryn was silent for a moment, but it was obvious she was getting ready to explode. "Dude, no fucking way!" Yep, there it was. "I got on that train! When I was eleven. I was super conflicted on my sexuality, had a shit ton of internalized homophobia as a result of having homophobic family. I felt like a disgusting person. So I got on the train, and it actually helped me through it." She'd completely lit up when Min mentioned the train. Looked like she was going to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. 

For a moment, Min was speechless. Soon, though, he regained his voice. "You're kidding," was all he could muster.

"Nope." Eryn's grin nearly reached her ears. "Did you have someone to help you along, too? There was a white cat named Samantha for me. She was French, for some reason. But I miss her." 

"Oh! Yeah, Ryan and I had a floating, talking bell named Kez. Weird, right?. I miss her, too. Wonder how she's doing." Min thought for a second, completely and utterly relieved to have met someone else to share an experience with. Then something clicked. "Hold on...I might have met this cat you speak of. Yellow eyes? Uh, blonde...hair?" 

"Blonde hair? Well, she didn't have that. But yeah, yellow eyes, French accent." Eryn nodded. They were silent for a moment. 

Min chuckled, suddenly getting the urge to continue on with their story. Telling someone about the train would feel wonderful. "We had a lot of...issues...regarding our friendship, at the time. That's why the train picked us up in the first place." He fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "The train did help us. But we had a lot of weirdly intimate moments on it, and that's where my sexuality crisis started. Like, there was a car where we had to perform a song with each other to get out of it, and of course I got stage fright right before it. I left him alone on stage. Again." Min paused, the guilt almost making him feel like he was living through that moment again. 

Eryn nudged him. "And? That doesn't sound intimate. What happened next?" 

"I hid in the bathroom. So he came in, and at first he was angry, but I was having a full on anxiety attack. We sat in the bathtub, hip to hip, knee to knee. It was weird, but nice. He helped me calm down. And like...in our last year of Highschool, I gave him a shirt with our band name on it. In that bath tub, he had it with him. He kept it. Said he'd never done a show without it." Min laughed, but there wasn't much humor about it. "Man, I wanted to kiss him so bad right then and there. But I didn't." 

Eryn had a soft look in her eyes. "I dunno about you, but that sounds pretty damn gay to me. Maybe he's just dating other people to distract himself from his crush on you, who knows! All I'm trying to say is, don't give up on this, Min. You two have something going on, I don't know what, but it could blossom into a relationship." She patted him on the shoulder, then took another drink of her beer. 

Min did the same. "What if he's not gay?" His voice was small. "Worse, what if he's homophobic? I don't know...fuck, it's terrifying. I could lose him because I'm gay." 

"Well," Eryn paused for a moment, "you could try and subtly bring it into conversation. Maybe, like, bring up a celebrity who's gay. See his reaction." She gestured with her hands a lot, Min noticed. 

Min nodded. It seemed simple in theory, but he knew he'd manage to fuck it up somehow. The logical part of his brain knew Ryan wouldn't leave him for being gay, but at the same time, there was this voice in the back of his head. Irrational thoughts, irrational fears; that's all it spoke of. 

"Thank you. Really. It's been nice to talk about this, especially with someone who's been on the train. That thing is...a freak of nature. Maybe not even nature, I don't know. I'll try that with him, too." Min said finally, after some silence. Eryn laughed. 

"Yeah, it absolutely is." She smiled widely. Eryn glanced around, her eyes finally landing on the only visible clock in this part of the bar. Her eyes widened. "Shit, I should really get going! Sorry. I told my girlfriend I'd be back around now." She, out of nowhere, gave Min a hug. It'd been a while since he'd hugged anyone, he realized, and it felt nice. Although, very unexpected. 

Min hugged her back, sort of awkwardly. They separated soon after.

"That's okay. Again...thank you, so much. I should get young too." By now, it was almost 11 pm, and he figured he should leave as well. Ryan should be back at their apartment soon enough. 

Min was about to turn and leave, but Eryn stopped him.

"Hey! How about we exchange phone numbers? This was a good chat, eh? I'd like to stay in contact." Eryn searched her pockets for a pen and some paper, but only found a marker. "Can I, like, write it on your arm and you can do the same?"

Min knew Ryan would tease him over it, but oh, well, he made a new friend. "Yeah, that's fine." He laughed, offering her his arm. She quickly scribbled her number on it, and honestly, it was barely legible. But he could read it, somewhat. 

He then wrote his number on her arm, they exchanged goodbyes, and were on their way. Min dreaded returning to Ryan, who would definitely start to go on and on about his girlfriend, and just prove to make Min feel worse about his stupid crush.

But maybe, just maybe, Eryn was right. Maybe things would finally go his way for once. 

•••

Min's walk home was quiet (as quiet as New York can be at night) and cold, it being the middle of November. Snow was just beginning to fall. Being outside Eryn's words stuck in his head like glue. Talk to him. As if he could do that. The idea of even just mentioning anything close to being gay made anxiety rise in his throat like bile. 

He couldn't. Probably.

Before he could think much more on it, he was home. Home. Back to the decent one bedroom apartment they'd scraped up all of the money in their pockets to buy. Back to the scent of cigarette smoke in the air, back to the strange stains on the carpet in the hallway. Most importantly, back to Ryan. No matter how much resentment Min-gi might hold to him for having a girlfriend, Ryan usually made things better. 

He walked up the stairs and down the hall to apartment number 202, ironically. Unlocked and opened the door to find it dark inside save for a single lamp. Min walked in, curious, just to find Ryan curled up in the fetal position on the sofa. That really made him anxious.

"Hey...Ryan? You good, man?" Min sat on the empty portion of the sofa, near his head. 

Ryan stirred, rolling over onto his back. His head was resting a bit on Min's thigh, and it felt kind of nice. 

"I dunno…" He mumbled. "She broke up with me." 

"What?" Min looked down at Ryan, surprised. "Lisa? You're kidding." 

"Nope, not kidding." Ryan laced his fingers together over his stomach. "The thing is...I'm like, kind of relieved that she did it? How fucked up is that?"  

Min tilted his head in confusion. He really wanted to run his hand through Ryan's hair, but that was a really inappropriate thought for the moment. 

"She, uh...said some things. When she broke up with me." He sighed. "Called me a fag." Ryan laughed, like he found it funny. Min didn't. 

"Dude, what? Why?" Min's voice was a little shaky, for no other reason than that they were talking about gay people. 

Ryan sighed. "Take a good look at us, Min." He brought his forearm up to cover his eyes. "We're two dudes, living in a one bedroom apartment together. We do everything together. Of course she's gonna think there's something going on." 

Min felt like he was going to fucking disintegrate. "U-Uh...and that's a bad thing?"

"I mean...no. It just kind of clicked that...maybe she's right. Maybe I am gay." Ryan sat up, his back facing towards Min. He didn't look back. " I always assumed that I'd be straight, but this...it makes sense. None of my relationships have ever worked out. With women." 

Min reached out and gently touched his shoulder. "Ryan...it's okay." 

Ryan looked back, now, and his eyes were watery. Min frowned.

“How could it be okay?” His voice cracked as he spoke. “It’s just another reason for people to hate me. For my parents to hate me. Hell, maybe even you.” By the time that he finished talking, his voice was almost inaudible. 

"No!" Min almost shouted, jolting forward. "No. Ryan, I could never hate you." Fuck, how was he supposed to tell Ryan he's gay now? Part of him wanted to shout it out impulsively, but the other part, it just wanted to keep hiding. Because what if something goes wrong? What if Ryan's in love with someone else? All what ifs. He really needed to stop. 

Min inhaled deeply. Here goes. "This is gonna sound really coincidental, but...I'm gay too." 

Quickly, Ryan turned around to face Min. His eyes were wide behind his glasses. 

"What? No fucking way. You're kidding." Ryan was leaning forward, using his fists to prop him up. 

Min shook his head. "No...I'm not. I was gonna tell you soon anyway, but now seemed like a good time." He scratched his head awkwardly.

Then, Ryan launched at him, hugging him. Arms wrapped around his neck, knees touching Min's thighs, the whole package. Min was sure he'd die with how flushed his face was; but thankfully, he didn't. 

After what felt like a while, Ryan finally spoke. 

"I love you." He mumbled into Min's shoulder. 

Min paused. "In a gay way, or…?" 

Ryan laughed. "Yeah, you idiot." He shook his head in amusement. 

"Good. That's...great." He hugged Ryan tighter, finally letting himself run his fingers through his hair. It was soft, just like he expected. "I love you too." 

[newtonsheffield]

Hi! Love your work. Fo you have anythong about Lucy and Gregory before he realised that he loves her. I think at one point you wrote about him thinking he likes Hermione from the reception, before he came to his senses 😁

Hello! I've really left you hanging on this one but as we know, I love and adore Lucy and Gregory and I just... need them today.

Ahhh Yes, Gregory was an idiot, And was not in control of the Bridgerton Family Brain Cell™️ on his first day in the office and being the sweetheart he is, who was desperate to put his love somewhere, he bestowed it on Hermione Watson at the reception desk, rather than the woman standing 2ft to her left.

So this is really Gregory + being oblivious.

Gregory Bridgerton had been, frankly very excited to find the love of his life, the moment he'd walked into his brother's now his as well, he supposed office. And honestly, she was stunning, with her blonde hair, and her green eyes, and her polite smile. Yes, Hermione Watson was beautiful. The only problem was she was wholly uninterested in him. She had a boyfriend, he'd heard from Lucy, but even so, every morning he'd stand next to her desk o wait for Anthony to arrive and Hermione would exchange pleasantries with her friend, and ignore Gregory completely. What am I doing wrong Lucy?! He'd whined across the bull pen at his coworker, tossing her a fruit salad chew and Lucy would look at him with the oddest mixture of pity and something he couldn't place and say Gregory, you need to ease up. The smile and the glasses and the bowtie are probably enough without you popping up everywhere as well. She looked away clearing her throat as though she felt awkward. You need to leave her alone and she'll wonder why. And so he resolved to try.

La la la Lucy! Gregory had sung at her as he met her in the foyer of the building, waiting by the lift, getting her to hold it for him to ride up together like normal. She'd rolled her eyes though smiled when she saw him, her perfectly manicured hand holding the button down. It's Wednesday Lucy so you know what that means! He'd said brightly add Lucy had answered without missing a beat New comic day. And it's been a while so I'm assuming Wonder Woman aaaaand Thor today? Her eyes had smiled at him, and he'd grinned back nodding excitedly. You know me so well. He's said, and their eyes had caught for a moment, a crease forming between her eyebrows something building between them until the lift door had dinged open and she'd made an odd noise as her eyes slid away from his when she turned to exit saying softly Yes, I think that's the problem. And she'd left him standing there wondering why on earth knowing a friend so well would ever be a problem.

Lucy hated to be that girl. Had spent her entire life being practical and logical to avoid being the sad girl in the romantic comedy who was hopelessly in love with someone who didn't want them. Well no, that wasn't fair. Gregory Bridgerton did want her, but he wanted her to be his friend and every time he said it the words stung at her. And he had no idea. Absolutely no idea just how handsome he was. How when he smiled at her it sent her heart fluttering and made her feel a little off kilter. How when he nudged her arm lightly to get her attention over something stupid Anthony and Kate were doing it seemed to burn at her skin. And worst of all, he had absolutely no idea that when he dropped a slice of cake or an iced coffee or tea on her desk when he got back from running Anthony's errands with no indication that he was going to do it and he smiled at her thanks and said What are friends for? It made her chest ache. Because the woman he was in love with was perfect the kind of perfect that she (and her Uncle) desperately wanted her to be. And so when he got confused and kissed her, for a minute she almost let herself believe that he'd realised that she was right there too. But of course he hadn't and he had no idea that imperfect Lucy Abernathy fell apart, shamefully crying into the arms of his sister in law.

This got a bit angsty, I'm so sorry!

[narrators-journal]

Late night chats

Xeno was off relocating a satyr, so Senku was free to pad down the stairs of the home he shared with his mentor in his boxers, an old shirt, and socks. Besides, it was late, with a heavy, full moon in the dark sky, so even if his mentor was there, it wasn't likely that he'd be out of his room at such an hour. So, the leek-haired man wasn't expecting to come into the kitchen to rummage through the fridge for a late-night snack and find a familiar split-haired succubus sitting on the counter with his tails swaying lazily in the darkness.

For a moment, Senku didn't register the demon when he was revealed by the slice of pale light, but then he whipped his head around and stared at the succubus.        "uh? Excuse me, what the fuck are you doing in my house?" The demon shrugged,        "I wanted to see you again! After all, you're quite the interesting man, Senku-chan," That made the leek's cheeks turn toasty for a moment before he cleared his throat,        "Have you not met an asexual hunter before? Or at all?" He asked, and Gen thought for a moment, then shrugged,        "Not really, or...well, I haven't talked to many of the asexuals I've run into. As a sex demon, I tend to focus on feeding, and, as you've proven, I can't feed on those who have no sexual attraction to me, so" He hopped down from the counter to punctuate the statement, "But that's not why I'm interested in you. You intrigue me because you're the first hunter to have asked me about my biology, most just want to banish me." As he spoke, he sidled over to the hunter, coiling a tail around one of his arms and batting his blue eyes at the man.

However, Senku just watched him in the white light of the still-open fridge, gauging his intentions. I should just throw him out. It's super sketchy to have a SEX demon in my home so suddenly. He told himself, his crimson eyes watching the strong, white, tail around his arm squeeze the limb, kind of like how a girl would with a guy she likes, However, this could also be a chance to ask more questions and get more primary sourced answers.

For a moment, the monster hunter pondered the predicament. Then, after some thought, decided to take the risk,         "Well, alright. I guess we can sit in the living room for a while and talk a bit more, but then you have to go. I don't want you sticking around while I sleep." Senku said, looking at Gen with a firm look that left him no room to argue his case, so instead, the succubus nodded and smiled brightly. So, Senku shut the fridge at last and led the succubus into the living room to sit on the pleather couch.          "I'm gonna guess you want to ask about my species, again?" Gen hummed as he released Senku's arm and flopped onto the couch, watching the hunter nod and pouting in return, "Fine, but I want you to ask about me too. I'm more than a specimen," the succubus sniffed, Senku just snorting,          "Alright, how old are you?"          "I am about 25 years old," The leek plucked up a notebook and pen from a side table and began taking notes as Gen sat up properly with a chirp, "My turn! How old are you?"           "I'll be turning 21 this year. Do you breed like humans do, or are sex demons only made through lustful souls? Matter of fact, how do you even create a sex demon?" He fixed his strawberry-colored eyes on the demon, who thought          "I know I was born from two demons, so I guess that answers your first question. As for the second, I don't know, I haven't tried to impregnate anyone." he shrugged.

Senku continued to note down all of the answers he got while Gen watched and waved his tails while thinking up his next question,         "Do you live here alone?~" The flirtatious tone in the demon's voice wasn't acknowledged as the man wrote,         "No, I live here with my monster hunting mentor. He and my father are friends, and Byakuya thought me staying with Xeno would be the safest way for me to learn. Do you have any sensitive areas?" Senku looked up from his notes to see that Gen was staring at him, obviously wanting to question him, but he'd moved the conversation along too fast. So, he instead feigned bashfulness,          "Oh, Senku-chan! How inappropriate, asking about my erroneous areas!" Senku swat at him while he giggled,          "Just answer the question, you perv,"          "mmm, well, I don't want to." He decided, "I haven't been asked a single personal question before now, and suddenly you want me to divulge my secrets?" Senku grimaced, having forgotten that the demon wanted him to ask more about him as a person, Would asking about his family life be TOO personal? But asking about his favorite foods feels too easy... He spent a long moment humming and hawing, not liking the way Gen's dark blue eyes looked so hurt,           "A-alright, what do you do as a hobby?" He finally asked, and the pain in his chest instantly went away when the demon's face lit up like a child's at Christmas,           "I enjoy doing magic tricks! I love the confusion and astonishment it can cause!" he crowed, his tails wagging like a happy dog. So, Senku went into the kitchen and dug a deck of cards from one of the drawers. He then brought them to the demon, finding he enjoyed the wholesome smile they brought to the odd demon's face.

After that, the duo sat and Gen did card tricks for the hunter. Normally, the leek-haired man would've had no interest in the show, since he didn't believe in magic, but he found himself enjoying the challenge of debunking each trick with logic. In turn, the demon seemed to enjoy doing the tricks and explaining them to the curious hunter.

With that, the original question was forgotten, and, once he'd run out of tricks to show, Gen was free to move on to his turn.          "I'm sorry if this seems rude, but how come someone as smart as you is training to be a monster hunter? Do you maybe have a fetish for inhuman creatures?~" Senku snorted at the implication, picking his notebook back up to continue his notes on his turn,         "I'm only working as a monster hunter to save for college. I wanna work for NASA and build rockets, my only interest in monsters is figuring out what makes you tick." He punctuated the answer by jabbing the succubus in the arm, snickering as he feigned pain,          "Do you have venom or anything? If so, is it some form of aphrodisiac?" He watched the demon stretch out on the dark pleather couch, thinking for a bit,          "I don't think so? I've only really bitten someone during feeding, so I can't say if it would be an aphrodisiac or something else," he admitted with a shrug, and Senku wrote that down before thrusting his arm at the demon,         "Try to bite me.” Sadly, the words had left his mouth before his brain could veto the plan. He had no real plan for if the succubus' potential venom did anything other than arousing him, he'd just wanted to experience the effects and determine whether or not he could feel it being injected, not just the effects.

Thankfully for him, Gen shook his head and pushed his arm back,         "Sorry, Senku-chan, maybe another time," The leek nodded quickly, his face feeling hot and his stomach twisting under the threat of him upchucking. After that, he simply asked the demon more questions about himself, hoping to make up for the weird request until they both began to yawn and the hunter's thoughts felt too much like sand to formulate good questions.

At that point, he put his notebook aside and stood up, stretching with yet another yawn,          "I think it's time for you to go, I'm gonna head to bed," he hummed, and the succubus nodded, getting up himself,          "Can I come back some other time?"          "So long as it's not at 3 am again, go for it, this was fun," The two smiled at one another at that, and said goodbye without too much more fanfare before splitting for bed.

[miguel-manbemel]

Roman’s Brightest Idea

It’s been ages since I wrote a story. But today I had an idea for a story full of angst, and then while I was writing it, I couldn’t help filling it with platonic logince, so here you have this short story and I hope you enjoy it.

INDEX POST

Roman was writing in his room, with his finest golden fountain pen. It had all started, as usual, from a little spark, but Roman saw from the beginning that this spark had potential and he decided to develop it into an idea for a story, and finally he stamped his seal on the last page, then put all the papers in a red velvet folder.

“I did it! This time I did it! This is the best work I’ve ever made in my life! This is my brightest creation!”

Roman started bopping and giggling, like he always did when he finished a work he was proud of, which tended to be the majority of works he finished. It was like, for a minute or so, he returned to his five year old self, who reacted the same way when he finished his first ever fairy tale.

“I can’t wait to show it to Thomas! He’s gonna love it!”

And so, Roman grabbed the red folder and sank out to the outer world, looking for Thomas. He found him in the bathroom, having a shower. It was noon and he had just woken up.

“Hi, Thomas!” Roman yelled

“Jeez!” Thomas screamed, startled “Oh, goodness gracious, Roman, don’t do that, you scared the heck out of me!”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself, I’m overexcited!”

“Oh, is that so?” Thomas said while he turned the shower off, then grabbed a towel and got out.

“Yes, because, you see, I’ve got great news, I’ve got a new idea for a story that you…”

“Yes, that’s great and all, but could you talk to me about that later? It’s getting late and I’m still naked, and I still haven’t got my breakfast, then I gotta go to the office fast, I’ve got a meeting today.”

“But this story…” Roman said, his smile had left his face.

“Later, Roman, I promise. I’ve got a long day ahead of me, please try to cooperate with me, okay?”

With that, Thomas put his bathrobe on and headed to the bedroom to get dressed. Roman was left behind in the bathroom.

“Okay, Thomas, if you’re busy I won’t bother you now… I’ll try later.”

Roman sank down and returned to his room. He looked at the red velvet folder.

“Perhaps it’s not that good?” Roman pondered. “Maybe I need to give it some more time before I bother Thomas? He seemed pretty busy… But no, Roman, you gotta trust yourself a little bit. It was a real masterpiece and when Thomas sees it, he’ll agree too!”

Roman waited a few hours.

“I’m tired of waiting. Perhaps Thomas has finished his meeting already. Yep, I think it’s the time to show him my work. Let’s go.”

Roman sank down and he raised up… standing in the middle of the table right on Thomas’ meeting. Nobody seemed to see him except Thomas, who showed a face of horror.

“Whoops…” Roman said. “I guess it wasn’t over yet…”

“Are you okay, Thomas?” one of his team members said “You look concerned.”

“I… I have a little pain on my tummy, that’s all. I didn’t want to say anything to let him finish his exposition, but truth is I could use a little recess to use the bathroom, if it’s okay with you.”

“No, it’s totally fine, I think we all need a break, this meeting has gotten longer than expected.”

“Then it will be 15 minutes. See ya later guys.”

All the meeting members went out of the room.

“I’m sorry, Thomas, I thought…”

“Don’t ever do that again, Roman!” Thomas said with a voice of anger

“But I’ve been waiting all day and I wanted to show you this idea. I warrant you that it’s the best work you could…”

“It’s not the time for that, Roman! You can’t just pop up whenever you want without permission!”

“But this is…”

“Nothing warrants you the right to do that, Roman! If you continue like this, I’m gonna start to think that you’re not so different from Remus after all!”

“Wha…?” Roman face went ajar, his eyes immediately filled with tears.

“Now, go away, and don’t bother me for the rest of the day until I tell you you can come, is that clear? I wanna hear it from you.”

“It’s… it’s clear, Thomas…” a little sob interrupted the sentence but he managed to pronounce it with all the dignity he had left in him. “I won’t bother you anymore.”

“Good, now go. I have to go to the bathroom so that the others don’t suspect. Look what you’ve made me do, now the meeting’s gonna last forever. Go now!”

Roman sank down, then returned to his room. Now the tears were falling down his cheeks. He looked at the red velvet folder. He opened it in an explosion of anger, grabbed the pages and tore them to pieces while he yelled like a wounded beast, then he threw the pieces of paper to the floor and started crying on the table, sobbing so loudly that he caught Logan’s attention from his own room. Logan was repelled by feelings of that kind but still, he couldn’t help but worry about his friend and decided to check on him.

“Roman? What’s wrong, are you okay?”

“What… what do you want?” Roman said mid sobbing “Don’t you see it’s not the moment to bother me, Teach? Leave me alone!”

“I would, Roman, but logic tells me that if I did, that only would be bad for you. I may not be an expert of feelings, and I don’t know a lot of things in that field, but I know that you are my friend. You know you can count on me for anything you want, and I’d be glad to help you if I can.”

Roman looked at Logan, his eyes all red and his makeup all ruined. His face showed then a grimace of hurt as he opened his arms, inviting him to hold him in a hug. Logan hesitated for a second as he didn’t like that sort of affection, but Roman’s devastated face made him realize Roman needed it, so he just went next to Roman and held him tight. Logan could feel Roman’s tears soaking his shirt and the humid warmth of Roman’s breath after each sob muffled on his chest right on his necktie. It was an unpleasant sensation for him, more for the emotional charge that it had that communicated to him how broken Roman was, something he didn’t like to see at all, something that would have hurt him if, he thought, he had feelings like the others. He didn’t know why he had the need to do so, but Logan started petting Roman’s hair while Roman went on crying a river on him.

After a few minutes like this, Roman’s crying slowly started weakening and he finally calmed down. Still, he stood hugged to Roman for a few minutes more in silence, Logan still petting his hair. It was finally Logan who broke the silence.

“Are you okay now, Roman?”

Roman just nodded in silence, still reluctant to let go off Logan.

“Take all the time you need, then tell me what happened.”

Roman still stood hugged to Logan for five minutes. Then he finally let go.

“Thank you, Logan… oh, I’m so sorry, your shirt and necktie are soaking wet.”

“That’s not important, but it tells me that you have lost a lot of hydration, so here…” Logan invoked a bottle of water and gave it to Roman “drink some water, you need it and it will make you feel better.”

Roman started drinking. He really was thirsty as he finished the whole 24 ounces of water in no time.

“Want some more?”

“No, it’s fine. Thank you, Logan.”

“Now tell me calmly and slowly everything that happened, Roman.”

Roman proceeded to tell him how the day was for him. Logan listened to the whole story without interrupting him, focusing all his attention on Roman.

“...and then you arrived” said Roman, finishing the story.

“I see…” Logan said pensively “I can understand Thomas’ reaction to some extent, but I’m sure he didn’t mean to be so nasty to you, Roman. I’d say that you startled him so bad he acted out of instinct, in fear. It was just bad luck and bad timing, that’s all.

“I’m not so sure… Thomas hates me, especially after my appearance in the meeting.”

“I strongly disagree, I don’t think Thomas hates you, Roman. I’m sure under other circumstances, he would have loved to see your story. Thomas has always loved those worlds of fiction you invented for him. Even if I never fully understood them, I knew they made him happy and that was enough for me to approve your labor. You just caught him busy and stressed out, that’s all. And we all say things when we’re angry we regret later.”

“Have you ever been angry in your life, Logan? I thought…”

“Who hasn’t been angry at some point in his life, Roman? No matter if it’s for something that happened to us or something that happened to others or in the world, everyone experiences anger from time to time, it’s as natural as breathing. But anger always calms down and allows us to judge things more calmly. I’m sure Thomas will have that time to ponder what happened and he’ll come to you.”

“Do you think so?” Roman said, then he noticed the floor all full of pieces of papers “Oh, look at what I’ve done… my story idea is all ruined. Now Thomas will never see it…”

“Can’t you rewrite it all again?”

“No, I don’t think so. Once I put an idea into paper, it’s like waking up from a dream, I forget most of it. I could try to rebuild it from the pieces, but it would never be the same.”

“I can help you pick up the papers and maybe from the little pieces…”

“I don’t know, it would take forever and Thomas cannot stay that long without a story idea.”

Thomas rises up in Roman’s room.

“There you are, Roman!” Thomas said.

“Thomas? What… what are you doing here?”

“I’m so sorry, Roman. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I treated you all day during and after the meeting. I hope you can forgive me.”

“It’s okay, Thomas. It was my fault for appearing so suddenly. I thought you had finished the meeting but I was wrong. I apologize too.”

“Well, now I’m totally free for you and I can see that bright creation of yours, if you still want me to.”

“If I still want you to? Nothing would have made me happier, Thomas. Unfortunately, it’s too late…”

“Why, where is it?”

“You’re standing over it.”

Thomas looked at his feet, saw all the pieces of paper and understood.

“Oh, Roman, I’m so sorry… But maybe we can fix it.”

“We could try, but it would take forever and it would never look the same as it was when I first created it. I don’t know if it’s worth the time to try.”

“Yes, it probably would never look the same… but it could look even better than before. Let’s pick up the pieces and get everything we can from them. You are Creativity, you’re not gonna get scared by a little hard work, do you?”

“Of course I won’t. I’ll do my best to reconstruct the idea if you want me to, Thomas.”

“And we’ll recruit the help from everyone, that way we’ll finish it faster, and maybe everyone could give their contributions. It can be a fun task for the rest of the day, okay?”

“Okay, Thomas. I’ll do my best.”

Thomas gave Roman a short but very tight hug that pleased Roman, then called the others. It took a few hours, but everyone together managed to pick up all the pieces, reorder everything they could and, filling the gaps with everyone’s ideas, they managed to create a story that would eventually become one of Thomas’ most viewed and acclaimed videos ever, something Roman would always be proud of, especially because he had the chance to create it with the help of all his friends and that made that his most cherished creation of all.

[duchesschameleon]

what if - chapter 1

summary: a long lost letter leads to an adventure in Italy for three people who find love and healing along the way. a letters to juliet au

pairing: Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader words: 1871 a/n: the first romcom au! and this is also a birthday present for the amazing and masterful tali (@winterscaptain) have a wonderful, wonderful day dear! thanks to @qvid-pro-qvo and @writefasttalkevenfaster for the beta

You take a deep breath and turn your face towards the sky, letting the warmth from the sun soak into your skin. It’s hard to believe you’re actually in Verona, you’d talked about it so much and for so long.

It’s hard to believe you’re here alone.

You’d talked about this trip with your partner often, making plans for a “pre-wedding honeymoon” and talking about all the food you’d eat, wine you’d drink, the sites you’d see together. All of the plans you’d made were together and now it’s just you.

You shake your head, bringing yourself back to the present, and look around. Dwelling on the past does you no good, so you search for signs to orient yourself and set out to explore Verona.

--

The bells are tolling, pulling your attention from your notebook. You look around you and see the courtyard clearing out as visiting hours for Juliet’s Balcony ends. There are some teary-eyed women walking past you and you raise an eyebrow, looking around for what could cause them to be so emotional. As the crowd thins out, you see a woman picking pieces of paper from the wall and putting them into a basket. Your eyes scan the wall and see a bunch of pieces of paper folded into the cracks of the wall beneath Juliet’s balcony. Love letters, your mind supplies and it clicks into place.

Once the woman has all the letters in her basket, she walks out of the courtyard and down the road. You follow her, your curiosity getting the better of you. Some things never change, you hear a familiar voice whisper in the back of your mind. You smile bittersweetly and continue following the woman with the basket. She leads you to a restaurant in a nearby piazza and you steel your nerves before walking inside.

“Hello?” you call out, looking at a table with four women seated around it pulling letters from the basket. “I, uh, I’m just wondering why you took those letters from the wall?”

The woman you’d followed stands up and approaches you. “Are you the translator I asked for -”

“Oh no! Just, visiting. And curious,” you explain.

“Ah, so you’re a writer?” she asks and you frown, silently asking how she knew. “Your notebook, and the pen. So, a writer?” You nod. “Then join us. We are the secretaries of Juliet. We take the letters the heartbroken leave at Juliet’s balcony and we respond to the ones we can,” she explains. She introduces herself as Isabella and the other three women - Francesca, Maria, and Donatella - as well as which letters they respond to. You’re blown away by the whole process, the whole system they have to respond to these letters and give lovers advice or in some cases, closure. Isabella invites you to sit with them and read the letters, to learn about the secretaries and if you feel like it, respond to a letter.

You settle into their rhythm quickly, laughing with the women and occasionally throwing in your two cents for a reply. You’re comfortable with them and enjoy spending time with them when you aren’t walking around the city. When the bells chime at five, you know you’ll be meeting Isabella in the courtyard to grab the days’ letters and bring them to the restaurant.

It’s your fourth day in Verona when you find it, a letter hidden behind a loose rock. It’s dated from the 1960s and written in blocky lettering that can only belong to a man.

“I didn’t go to her Juliet, I didn’t go to my Carolyn. Her eyes were so full of trust, I promised I’d meet her and we would run away together. But I didn’t go. I left her under our tree and now I’m in Verona. I return to the States in the morning and I’m so afraid. Please, Juliet, tell me what I should do. My heart is breaking and I have no one else to turn to. Love, Dave,” you read aloud. There’s a hush in the room as everyone takes in this letter that’s been hiding and waiting for years. 

“I have to reply,” you declare.

“Then write,” Isabella says, passing you paper and a pen. You focus on the letter and work different versions of a reply for hours. It takes time, but you get there. A reply that feels worthy of this long a wait and a letter of this magnitude. You hope that Dave still lives in DC, where he said he was going back then. You hope he gets your letter and it brings him some peace.                                       

--

“Excuse me, is one of you Juliet?” a strange voice asks. Isabella stands up and responds to the man standing in the doorway. You can only see his silhouette, the evening sun blocking out his features, but you can tell he’s tall and the accent is American, something familiar after almost two weeks in Italy.

“We are the secretaries of Juliet,” Isabella explains, “how can we help you?”

“I’m looking for the person who wrote this letter to Dave Rossi.”

“I did,” you say, raising from your chair. “Did he get-”

“Did you think for a moment before writing and sending that letter? Did you think that since he’d written that letter and left it here he’s lived a life? A great life by the way, and now he’s uprooted everything on a whim and come to Italy to search for someone who’s also lived a life since he last saw her,” the man rants.

“Wait, Dave’s here? In Italy?” you ask, unable to hide your excitement.

“Yes he is, when he should be back home in DC but he’s here following the advice from your letter against everyone’s better judgement!”

“Where is he? I’d love to meet him,” you say walking towards the door.

“What? No! You can’t meet him, I’m convincing him to go home, he’s lived a life, he can’t be doing this,”  he says indignantly. “Besides, I don’t even know your name.”

You stand before the man and introduce yourself, holding out a hand for him to shake. You can see him now that the sun isn’t blocking him out. He has brown hair, tamed with gel you think, and he’s thin but sturdy. He’s attractive you notice, but his face is arranged into a frown, definitely disapproving and based on the lines on his face, he doesn’t smile very often. He breaks your train of thought when he takes your hand, “Aaron Hotchner. I wish I could say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but I wish I wasn’t here,” he says bluntly.

Your eyebrows rise to your hairline. “Well, I’m sorry it's such a burden for you to be in Italy,” you scoff. “Now that we’ve been introduced, can I meet Dave? I’m a little shocked that my letter reached him so quickly.”

Aaron turns away and heads down the stairs in lieu of a reply. It takes you a second to recover from your shock before you’re following him. He’s walking out of the restaurant and heading on a familiar route, going back to Juliet’s balcony. You follow, a few steps behind him, and when he turns into the courtyard you see the man who must be Dave Rossi sitting on a bench. Aaron leans down to talk to him and you hesitate before approaching.

“Dave Rossi?” you ask. He nods and you introduce yourself, explaining that you wrote the letter to him. His eyes light up and he immediately turns towards you, leaving Aaron out of your conversation.

“Your letter, I can’t put into words how much it means. That even after all this time, you think Carolyn is out there and I can find her,” Dave says, grabbing your hands.

“Of course. I couldn’t let your letter go unanswered, no matter how much time had passed.”

“You could have. Easily. It’s been years. Everyone involved has lived their lives and left that summer in the past. Left each other in the past. It’s the logical thing to do,” Aaron interrupts.

You turn to him and say dryly, “Oh sorry, I didn’t realize true love had an expiration date.”

He scoffs at you before addressing Dave, “We should get back to the hotel and get some rest. It’s been a long day. And then we can talk about getting back home because this whole thing is ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous to you, Aaron. Not to me. And you’re the one who insisted on tagging along.”

“Someone has to look out for you Dave.”

You smile at their banter and take a step back, moving to return to the secretaries. Dave calls out your name when you’re almost out of the courtyard and you turn. “Aaron’s making me turn in tonight, but how about we grab lunch tomorrow? Talk some more?” You nod in response and Dave gives you their hotel name and you promise to meet them there. There’s a hopefulness blooming in your chest as you walk back towards the restaurant, a levity that’d been missing for some time and you feel a smile tug at your lips. Adventures in Italy, just like you’d promised.

Lunch the next day includes a lot of the same bickering. Dave wants to follow the advice from your letter, to go look for Carolyn where he first met her and Aaron is staunchly against the idea. When Dave gets up from the table for a moment, Aaron turns to you, brown eyes sharp.

“He can’t do this. You have to stop convincing him that this is a good idea,” Aaron spits out.

“And why can’t he do this? Don’t you want him to be happy?” you shoot back, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Who’s to say he isn’t happy already? That he hasn’t already found his love and lived out his life?”

“But is that person his true love? Did you even read the original letter, he loves Carolyn! Still does after all this time I’d say, given that he’s here in Italy to find her!”

“Don’t you understand? Dave found love in DC. He had a wife, Hayden. They had a daughter together and now he has a grandson. He doesn’t need this and he certainly doesn’t need you meddling in his affairs,” Aaron hisses as Dave walks back to the table. You try to relax your features, to look less like you want to murder Aaron, but one look at you and Dave knows. He sighs and folds his hands together on the table.

“You know, I was hoping the two of you would start getting along Aaron,” he says, facing the other man, “especially since I’ve decided that I want to ask our friend to join us on this adventure. That letter made this whole thing possible, I think it’s only right, wouldn’t you agree?” he asks, looking pointedly at Aaron.

Aaron sighs and rubs his face with one hand. You cock an eyebrow at him, waiting patiently for his response. He slowly turns back to you and meets your eyes. “Yes, it’s only right you join us,” he grits out.

You smile and wink at Dave. “Well then, sounds like an adventure.”

taglist: @qvid-pro-qvo @averyhotchner message me to be added!

[jwritesandrambles]

“Your Heart Rate Went Up-”

Hi! Here’s a pretty old but still cute TimKon ramble. It was not until much later that I found out that Kon didn’t have super hearing.  But hey, DC doesn’t care about continuity, why should I? This is a cute concept and I stand by it.  This is likely OOC as it was the first thing I wrote for TimKon. I hope you enjoy though, it’s lighthearted fluff with dumb mushy tropes.  _ _ _ _ _ _

Tim sat in the common area of the live-in head quarters. It was one of their rare days off. Everyone else was either relaxing, catching up on much needed sleep, or just spending a bit of time with each other.  Tim has set up his laptop, streaming bad old horror movies while he did a bit of school work. His English project had been a basic sort of daily journaling thing for the past month. For anyone else it would have been simple but Tim, who spent most nights on roof tops trying to take down mafia members and not get shot, answering the questions “what did you do last night?” became daunting. Writing the same boring lie over and over. His teacher seemed suspicious and Tim was worried that his teacher was going to think he was a drug dealer, what with the suspiciously bland overused daily routine and that Tim accidentally let slip his knowledge on how to cook meth whilst writing an essay on drugs and their portrayal in media. He sighed and dropped his head in his hand, pouting at his empty page.  “Hey Tim?” Tim’s head turned towards the voice. Kon leaned in the door way, his hands in the pockets of his stormy grey, lazy-day sweat pants. Kon was for once not wearing his usual Superman S t-shirt, but instead a plain black tank top. Tim was fairly certain one of Kon’s arms was thinker than Tim’s entire body. Kon made sure to remind Tim how tiny he was in comparison. It was ridiculously annoying. Kon was ridiculously annoying. He relied on nothing but his bronze and when that failed, he just let the team just clean up his messes. He was prone to being short tempered and impulsive which lead to issues on the field. When Kon wasn’t being impulsive he was-  “Sorry, did I startle ya?” He asked Tim, the corner of his mouth twitching into a slight smirk. “What- no, you didn’t? Why would you say that?” Tim asked, dropping his pen into his note book.  “Your heart rate went up,” Kon replied.  -Annoying. Kon was still annoying.  He wandered over to Tim and sat down on the couch next to him. “What’cha workin’ on?” He asked, his arm on the back of the couch behind Tim’s head. “Nothing interesting, just catching up on school work,” Tim noticed Kon’s hair was wet, and he smelled of something fruity and sweet. He must’ve just just gotten out of the shower. Tim’s eyes dipped back to his paper. Why was eye contact suddenly so hard? “That’s a pretty empty lookin’ page for catching up on homework.”  “Shut up,” Tim hit Kon’s chest.  “Hey! I was just gonna offer to help! I mean- I’m not great but two heads are better than one?”  Tim sighed, he couldn’t really argue there. It’s not like he was getting anywhere on his own. He grabbed his note book and pen and turned to Kon. Tim hesitated for a moment. Their faces were much closer then Tim expected.  “You sure you’re okay?” Kon asked looking Tim up and down quickly. “Your heart rate went up again,” he glanced over Tim’s shoulder, at his laptop screen, “Maybe give the cheesy horror movies a break.”  “Y-yeah, maybe,” Tim scooted away from Kon, shutting his computer and begun to explain his homework. He handed kon his note book to Kon, “I guess my excuses are just getting kinda... dry?” He explained.  “Well-” Kon began. “You’re dripping on my paper, stop leaning your wet hair over it!” Kon rolled his eyes and slumped back into the pillows, “As I was saying- what if instead of making up stuff, you just... rephrase what you did?” Tim tilted his head, confused. “Y’know,” Kon paused thinking for an example, “Well, what did you do yesterday?”  “Trained with the team. We worked on hand to hand combat and fighting without powers,” Tim replied.  “So write that you were doing a group work out, or at a martial arts club or something?” Kon reasoned. 

Tim paused, “that’s... actually pretty helpful... thanks, Kon. Maybe you’re not the worst,” he said with a slight smile, pale blue-grey eyes meeting the krytonian’s. Maybe Kon wasn’t always  t h a t  annoying.  Kon smiled brightly, “Good, glad,” he replied. Then he stood and stretched, “Well, my work here is done, I’ll get out of your hair and let you-“ “Wait,” Tim scrambled to his feet, “it’s nice having the company, if you’re not busy. And- I’m still not really great at this. Mind sticking around a little longer?”  “Yeah, sure, I don’t mind. You don’t have to be so nervous?” “I’m not nervous?!” Tim snapped scowling. “Heart ra-“ “I stood up quickly!” “Ohmygod- if that’s all it takes, your body ain’t right,” Kon teased, sitting back on the couch. Tim groaned and rolled his eyes. “I think it’s the caffeine. It’s destroying your blood pressure.” “Do not tell me to stop drinking coffee, Kent,” Tim said punctuating the word ‘Kent,’ with an elbow to the other boy’s side.  “Besides, It’s like, one cup in the morning!” he added in a grumble.  Tim put the movie back on from his laptop, and started writing his English journaling, quietly checking things in with Kon every now and then. By the time the movie was over, Tim was packing up his work, pushing his pencils and paper into his bag. “You know... I’ll have to write stuff for what happens tomorrow- think you can help me out again?” He asked softly. “Yeah- sounds good,” Kon agreed. They started putting aside time each night to meet up and put on an episode of cheesy old TV shows, while Tim did his journaling for the day. Slowly, they started sitting closer together. Kon’s arm migrated from being over the back of the couch to being over Tim’s shoulders. Neither seemed to notice  that their heads were closer together. If there was time left in whatever they were watching when Tim was finished writing, he would let his head rest on Kon’s shoulder. But it didn’t mean anything, right? It was just comfortable... yeah, comfortable and therefore, logical. It didn’t mean anything. If Tim fell asleep curled into Kon’s side, the krytonian didn’t dare move him. But it didn’t mean anything right? It was just the nice thing to do....yeah, nice thing to do, and Kon was a good friend, (even if his arm was getting kind of numb) and therefore, this was just polite. It didn’t mean anything. Two weeks later, Tim slumped on to the couch, head dropping immediately on to Kon’s shoulder, groaning softly. “What’s up?” Kon asked him, a hand loosely falling on Tim’s back, between his shoulder blades. “I just... something is bothering me.” “What is it? And why’d your heart rate go up?” “It didn’t!” “It did. Now tell me what’s wrong- Do you need help with more school work?” Kon asks. 

Tim stat up, tucking his hair behind his ears, in a feeble attempt to keep it from falling in his face. “Yeah, um it’s not really school it’s... okay so- uh I,” Tim bit his lip. The tips of his ears were going pink. 

“Are you... nervous?” Kon asked, slightly confused. 

“No! Okay, yeah I am-Just-shut up for sec!” Tim slammed his palms down on his knees and took a breath. “You’ve been helping me, and I’ve been spending time with you a lot and it’s been great! I was talking to Dick and he started teasing me about liking you. As more than a friend, I mean. And it was super annoying!” 

“So... your brother is getting on your ner-“ Kon began, brows furrowing.

“I’m getting there! Cause- Then I realized he was right!” Tim’s face somehow went redder than it already was, “And I do like you. And that’s weird, and I don’t really- I haven’t liked another guy before and I guess what I’m trying to say is...do you wanna go out? With me? I mean yeah of course me, that’s dumb I-”

Tim was cut off by Kon lifting his chin and pressing a kiss to his lips. If Kon thought Tim’s heart rate had been elevated before, the poor boy’s heart must’ve been on the verge of exploding. Kon pulled away, hand still lingering under Tim’s jaw. “Stop rambling, dumby. Yes, I would like to go out with you- and sorry I should’ve asked if that was okay...” Kon said, looking a little sheepish as he smiled. “I- I liked it. It was nice,” Tim was bright red, and smiling. “And you know what?” Kon asks, a little smirk appearing on face.

“What?” Tim’s pale blue eyes darted to the kryptonian’s own sky blue eyes. 

Kon leaned forward again, kissing Tim’s cheek, listening to his heart, “Your heart rate went up.” 

Tim laughed in embarrassment, trying to force a pout, “oh shut up!” He hit Kon’s chest lightly. 

“Okay, okay,” Kon laughed, placing an arm around Tim, “so- what were your date night ideas?” He asked casually. 

Tim realized he was about to have lots of new things to talk about in his journal entries for English class. His teacher would soon enough be tired of hearing about Tim’s new date, but Tim didn’t think he’d ever get tired of talking about Kon. 

Not ever in a thousand years.

[thereallinksstuff]

So I rewrote the notes, apologies for spelling errors if there are any. Ps it's also on a03 here's a link if that's what you prefer, plus there's my other fics there too. https://archiveofourown.org/works/27684086

Logan stood in his room, much like he did every morning at 9 am, looking over himself with a small smile in the mirror. Admiring how good he thought he looked in his 'hidden' outfit as he's been refering to it as. A punked out Jean vest with a large amount of science, space and ocean life themed pins and patches with a save the Earth T-shirt underneath. Topped off with one of his Solid Blue ties loosely tied around his neck. A slick clean pair of black skinny Jeans that he had rolled up to cover just the top of his royal blue converse high tops, tied in a perfect double bow knot.

Suddenly Logan felt Thomas summoning him, Not managing to snap into his usual attire before standing, frozen still in his regular spot in Thomas's livingroom. Much like a deer in headlights.

Thomas, Virgil, Janus and Patton each stood in their respective areas looking at Logan, complete surprise and shock on their faces until Virgil breaks out into laughter. Thomas quickly remembered Logan mentioning this outfit many, many months ago when he first created it for himself. He had only told Thomas since as his 'Brain side' Thomas would know about it anyways.

Thomas swiftly got the others to pay attention to him so Logan could Snap into his usual attire when needed by the group. Logan smiled at him ever so faintly and silently thanked him for the metaphorical saving of him in the situation. He joined in the conversation and helped to the best of his abilities, which is to say, how much the others were willing to listen to his input.

For the next hour or so they discussed whether or not Thomas should make a video about them or one of his many second channel series'. He honestly didn't pay much attention. He was too focused on a strange feeling (heh feeling) that someone was in his room.

As soon as Thomas had his issue resolved Logan was the first to say goodbye, of course with a reminder to drink water and be healthy, but he was out of there quickly.

When he got back to his room he didn't immediately see anyone there, curious as to why he felt like someone had been. He began looking around his room to be sure. He noted how all the books were in place, his bed was still neatly made, his closet doors were slightly open as he had left them. Taking a moment to double check inside his closet, he felt as though someone had their eyes on him. As he walked out of his closet he noticed the his punk outfit was now laid neatly on his bed, walking over and picking up his best to put it away before noticing something in the pocket. He took out a small box that hadn't been in the pocket prior. Setting his vest down and sitting beside the outfit to open the box.

Looking inside carefully incase it's another one of Remus's pranks, glad that it doesn't seem to be he pulls out a thrice folded note.

For Logan, the biggest nerd I know,

I know this is random, and you don't like sides in your room but I can't help but give this to you. I have something else to give you, looking in the kitchen, where Patton won't see to find your next clue.

Ps, I liked the smile that this put on your face, you should wear it more, it suits you well.

From nobody.

As curious as Logan was about the who wrote the note, he does love a good puzzle after all. He looked at the outfit before looking to the gift in the box, deciding to snap into the punk outfit again. Agreeing with the author of the note that it does look good on him. Finally looking inside the box to see what gift he's recieved. Inside was a space pin that had 'viva la pluto' written on a small ribbon over an image of the planet itself. To say he was shocked was an understatement. He was unsure as to who would have given him something so sweet and who would have gone through the trouble of learning about his disdain for Pluto no longer being a planet.

Once a planet, always a planet, He thought as he placed the pin on his vest. Making his way down to the kitchen and seeing Patton making some lunch, the others elsewhere in the mindscape.

"Hello Patton, I wanted to apologize for my appearance earlier I didn't have time to change before being summoned, I will make sure it does not happen again."

Turning around and smiling brightly at Logan, Patton waved it off. " It's alright Logan, I just didn't expect you to enjoy that style, but whatever makes you happy kiddo."

"Ah, thank you Patton. I appreciate your understanding." Logan replied with his usual small smile, looking about the kitchen for somewhere that Patton wouldn't be able to see. Staying out of Patton's way while looking around, seeing a small blue envelope propped up on top of one of the cupboards. Reaching up and grabbing it, seeing that it is the next clue he is to be looking for. Pocketing the note to grab himself a snack, before sitting at the table to read his second clue. Nodding to Roman as he joins Patton and Logan in the kitchen.

To my Star

I know you like to read so check your favourite book to find the next clue, this may be short but I know you won't mind.

From someone ;)

As he finished his snack and reread the note, wondering who it's author is, Roman and Patton join him at the table. Both noticing the note and sharing a look before Roman speaks in his usual princely tone.

"Whatcha got there Logan?" He asked simply, Logan looked up from the note to him to respond.

"A note, it's the second I've gotten today and I am trying to figure out who has been writing them. I unfortunately do not recognize the handwriting, would either of you be able to assist?" He slid the note over to where they could see, Patton looking over it like a confused puppy and Roman looking intensely at it.

Logan sat and waited for them to look between the note and each other. "Well? Do either of you have an idea?" Logan asked calmly as Patton slid the note back.

"Well, I know it isn't Virgil's, his writing is more stylized and he likes to change fonts." Patton replied with a small apologetic smile. Roman tapped his chin as he spoke after Patton.

"Well, my king here is correct and I can tell you it was neither of us, it does look like it could be Janus or Remus's, though I'd expect Remus to write in anything but pen." Roman chuckled softly at Patton and Logans reaction to that. "Oh you both know it's true, he does stuff like that a lot. But I would ask Janus, he seems the most likely." Roman finished sincerely, smiling big and taking Patton's hand in his when nudged.

Logan smiled softly at the two, their relationship having first been a little surprising to the other sides and Logan, but being honestly sweet and helping Thomas greatly. "Well, thank you Roman and Patton, I shall retrieve the next note and continue my adventure. I hope you both have a lovely afternoon."

Smiling at the two respectfully as he gets up to let them have their lunch in peace. Letting them know he shall see them at dinner time before heading up to his room.

Bumping into Virgil on the stairwell. "Ah Virgil, I wanted to apolo-" "Don't worry about the outfit Logan, the style is different and I don't think it fits but Patton said I can't laugh again. Plus you do kind of pull it off." Virgil cut off Logans apology, knowing that he doesn't need to be sorry for being comfortable, especially after all Logan has done to help Virgil be accepted the way he is with the others.

"Ah yes we'll, I'm glad you understand and think so Virge. Oh by the way have you seen either Remus or Janus up here?" Logan was hoping the stormy side had but sighed a little internally when Virgil shakes his head no. "I don't know why your looking for either of them but if you find Janus do you mind letting him know I need his assistance later?" Virgil asked quietly, the faintest of purple glow in his eyeshadow. "Of course Virgil, I shall make note to let him know if I pass him. See you at dinner." Logan replied kindly, nodding with Virgil as the leave to their respective directions.

Opening his door to his room and seeing his original copy of ' The Murder of Agatha Christie' sitting on his desk instead of the shelf where he left it. Picking up the book with a smile, quickly remembering all the good times he's had reading it. Opening the book the the page he was on and seeing another note beside his bookmark. Taking the note out and setting it on his desk before putting the boom away on the shelf.

Standing infront of his desk as he picks the note back up and reads it.

To My Earth,

The notes may be done but the hunt is on, the basement is where to go, a snake or a rat, either will work, to get you to where you want to go

Sincerely,

your admirer.

Staring at the note for a few minutes, having a very minor brain freeze when reading that the notes have been because the author admires him. Going through a list of random facts to unfreeze his mind from his surprise. Shaking his head lightly before heading out of his room and down to the basement, knowing that only Remus and Janus hang out down here. Logan looked around, not noticing Janus or Remus in their living room. He sighed softly as he sat on one of the couches, thinking over where one of them would be in the mindscape. After about five minutes his thoughts shift to who would send these notes, after all he was the 'nerd' he was logic. Although he didn't enjoy wearing the professional outfits as much as his punk one, he just couldn't get his thoughts to a conclusive answer about why someone would admire him.

Lost in his thoughts he didn't notice Remus come up from who knows where to stand right infront of him.

"HIYA Logan, whatcha doing down here?"

Be startled back into reality, Logan re adjusted his vest while answering, "I was left a note that said to find either you or Janus." Logan replied with a. Faint blush on his face from being caught off guard. He hoped Remus would notice and turn it into something more than it is.

"Oh well, that sounds fun can I help you??"

Remus asked while bouncing on his feet, excited about being able to help someone rather than cause then distress. For a few moments logan questioned why Remus would want to help him rather than cause him his normal headache. Unable to bring himself to a logical conclusion as to why he may be acting like this before handing the note to Remus.

"This is the last note I received however I do not know who the author is, and as it says I was looking for either you or Janus to assist. He finished with an adjustment to his glasses and a faint smile to Remus. As Remus was reading the Note and doing his weird thinking face, Logan took this time to really get a look at Remus, he wasn't in his normal Dukey attire, he was wearing something more akin to how logan was dressed. Studded biker boots, torn and well worn camo shorts, a black sleeveless t-shirt that read 'could be gayer' across the chest and a fully studded and random yet organized patch covered Jacket. Logan laughed a little to himself about the similarities between his and Remus's styles. "Well, Remus, do you know what you are to assist with?"

Almost as if he had forgotten Logan was there Remus blinked then bounced right back into energy town. "I DO!!" He shouted and grabbed logan by the wrist. "I know this seems kinda crazy but just follow me!" Remus bounced forward dragging logan along with him. Ignoring the nice feeling of skin contact, Logan followed after Remus, hoping it wasn't an elaborate prank.

"Okay I'm gonna need you to close your eyes and trust me." Remus asked as he stopped in front of a door Logan didn't recognize. "May I ask why Remus, I do not wish to be the subject of your pranks."

Remus looked at Logan with a large grin and replied simply. "it's a surprise! But also because we have to cut through a part of my imagination. I don't want you to be er.. grossed out?" Remus finished quizzadically, him being considerate of the others feelings was a bit strange to Logan, seeing as Remus rarely did it, however he was more curious as to who the author of the notes was and why they have been giving them to him today if all days. Choosing to ignore the romantic feelings he has for the imaginative side infront of him, since logically if he's helping the author it wouldn't be him.

"Alright Remus, I trust you to keep me safe, we can go when you are ready." Logan adjusted his glasses to look at Remus, who had been staring at logan with a wide grin plastered on, but slowly it wavered as he processed what logan had said. "You...you actually trust me enough to enter my imagination?" He asked, looking down rubbing hands together to keep them busy. Not used to people being okay with one, trusting him and two, someone being okay with going into his half of the imagination.

"Well yes, you may not have the nicest or cleanest thoughts and ideas, but you are a part of Thomas, and to be honest with you Remus, there are times when I prefer yours and Janus's company over the others. You are unpredictable and can be a bit morbid however, I have no reason to not trust you. You have never directly hurt me, and I can easily sink out to safety if need be."

Hoping that Remus hasn't noticed the light blush and emotions in the words he's speaking. Letting out a small breath he didn't realize he was holding as Remus bounced in excitement. "Okay, let's go!"

Grabbing Logan's hand gently instead of wrist this time, Remus pulled logan into his imagination as soon as the other's eyes were closed.

Logan now with his eyes closed and his hand in Remus's, he hoped Remus knew where he was going, but then again, this was his side of the imagination, the place he spends most of his time. So Logan let himself get pulled along what sounded like a dirt path. Every so often he would hear humming from Remus as the walked. It had only been 10 minutes of walking but to Logan it felt like longer. Logan spending more thought on trying to ignore how amazing it feels to be holding Remus's hand than how much time is passing.

"Okay stay right there with your eyes closed." Remus had asked him calmly, with what seemed like nervousness in his voice if only a little.

"Okay Remus, just please no pranks." Logan replied calmly and did as asked. He could hear Remus walk towards and open something but, without the visuals he couldn't identify it, so he waited patiently playing with the various spikes on his wristband. Remus slowly walked back over to Logan, a bouquet of wilted flowers in his hands, tied with a royal blue ribbon, he tried for days to make living flowers but couldn't,

He gently tapped logan on the shoulder.

"okay you can open your eyes now" he said with such gentleness that the other had not heard before, opening his eyes and looking around at his surroundings, he couldn't help but to be shocked. Up in the night sky there were thousands of glowing stars with a large shining moon bathing both men in a calm faintly blue light.

As Logan looked around he noticed the partially alive trees and bushes that surrounded the clearing they were in. Remus had a wonderful imagination, yes there were random creatures wandering around, random dirty jokes personified and many, many creations of unknown identity that Remus has left in places, but it was wonderful in its own way, Chaotic but organized. Elements of each of the sides were visible amount the seeming chaos.

Slowly looking over to Remus, Logan noticed how he was already looking at him, with a goofy grin on his face holding what seemed to be withered flowers. "I know you are a hesitant person sometimes and that you like to do things in the most logical order. However demented or disturbing to the other my ideas and thoughts are, you help them to understand me better. Which I can't thank you enough for. So Logan Sanders...would you like to... Would you like to make macabre and chaotic things with me? LikeBoyfriendsDo? On a regular bases?"

It took a moment for Logan to process all of what Remus had been saying, and if his thinking was right Remus was the author of the notes, and he was asking him out in a very Remus way. Logan blushed heavily as did Remus. Realizing that it was Remus who got him the pin and has been leaving the notes, the metaphorical butterflies in his stomach going into a frenzy.

For once Logan didn't have the words to respond, the side he has had feelings for, for a while is asking him out and to be his boyfriend. Before his logical thinking could stop him he stepped forward grabbing Remus by his jacket collar pulling him into a kiss.

Taking the kiss as a yes, Remus slid his hands around Logan's waist, kissing him back with passion in an attempt to communicate how happy he is. When they pull apart logan looks at him with a sparkle in his eyes that was usually reserved for learning. However right here right now, with Remus, in his imagination logan couldn't be happier, even with all his grossness or disturbing thoughts, Remus was the one for him.

"Thank you, and to verbally express my feelings, I accept your offer to be in a romantic relationship, Darling."

"Haha I figured from the kiss but thank you, to hear you say it makes my heart explode into a million pieces hahah." Leaning his head on Logan's shoulder with a chuckle and very very large grin. The two spent the afternoon and evening exploring the area of Remus's imagination that Remus led him to, making sure to keep mental and physical notes on the things that may stick with Thomas More than they probably should. Almost loosing track of time before checking his wristwatch and seeing that it's almost time for dinner.

"Patton will have dinner ready in 5 minutes, did you want to grab Janus and head up Rem?"

Logan asked Remus inbetween one of his short monologue. Remus's head shot up and he smiled big, bouncing in his boots. "I would love to! And we can just summon Janus if he isn't there already with his double dicked self." Remus laughed at the look on Logans face, knowing that the he has many, many questions to now ask Janus about his snake side.

Heading out of the imagination with Remus' hand in his own, Logan chose to ignore the snake anatomy questions floating in his mind in favor of thinking about how lucky he is to be able to express his romantic feelings and have them reciprocated. Laughing with Remus, his real genuine laugh because Remus made a joke as they walk into the kitchen.

Both stopping their laughter when Roman yells at seeing them, being a very confused prince that the brain and the dark creative sides are holding hands and laughing. Patton squeeking loudly enough to make Janus rise up and Virgil come downstairs. Janus looked over to where Logan and Remus are standing, tipping his hat to the green side with a small smile. Virgil looking at them both in pure confusion before just throwing his arms up in defeat and sitting at the table, blushing more when Janus sits beside him of all places.

Logan and Remus take their seats, still holding hands as they get bombarded with questions. Logan thinking about how glad he is that the notes were finally given to him as Remus tells Patton about how he set it up.

[chisinpink]

The Only One: A Mastermind!Nagito AU Story - PROLOGUE

Hello lovelies, I’ve posted a *lot* about my Mastermind!Nagito AU on tiktok (I’m @chisben there as well if you wanna check it out), and I rly wanna share it here so here’s the prologue! Special thanks to @servanthaji for helping out with the planning of this whole story in general!

(Content warning for mentions of bombs and bombings, swearing and crying.)

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JUNKO: Yep, that’s the day that it happened. The day everything started getting… pretty scary, if you ask me! I’m just glad you were outta town for that, and baby was home sick. That’s, like, the only reason she’s here today, too!

HAJIME: Wait, wait, slow down! What are you even talking about…?

JUNKO: Uhh, I’m getting to that? Besides, don’t you know that guy too? Nagito Komaeda?

HAJIME: Not really… I mean, I knew of him, but I was in the reserve course. I didn’t really talk to him or anything until I went to school that Monday, and… there was nobody there except him.

JUNKO: Oh, yea? Did he tell you anything?

HAJIME: Not really. After I got shot at and ran in the school, I asked him what the hell was going on, but it was like I wasn’t there either. He just changed the subject to hope over and over again, like I asked a totally different question, and eventually I just walked away. I still don’t know what he was doing there.

JUNKO: Then maybe he doesn’t want you to know, y’know? You’re so lucky you have me, then~!

(She smirks playfully. Hajime stares at her blankly and her face drops. She stares at a map with a pen in hand.)

JUNKO: Come ooon, I’m coping! This is pretty stressful for everyone, y’know, I use humor to forget about all this stupid shit.

HAJIME: Whatever… just… tell me what’s going on.

JUNKO: Well, what happened that day… that was the start of The Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Event in Human History… in my opinion. And that’s saying a lot, because this world is filled with despair! And, like, his whole class helped him do what he did to the country! No idea why that is, but we can all fill you in on the rest, I guess. Preeeety sure we were all there in some way, ‘cept my baby.

(She gestures to the entirety of Class 78 of Hopes Peak Academy, standing and sitting in the basement of the school, as well as Mikan Tsumiki, who has a timid smile on her face as Junko looks back at her. Hajimes face drops.) 

HAJIME: Wh… what?? That can’t be it, that can’t be what happened…! The whole class?? The whole country?!

JUNKO: Eeeyup! They evacuated the school by putting a bomb under their teachers desk, and apparently all around the school, and I have NO idea how that lady didn’t croak! Anyways, everyone had to leave, and… that’s basically all I know. They just repeated that ooover and ooover on the news, it made me sick!!

(She threw her pen at a tiny radio propped up on a few cardboard boxes.)

HAJIME: Wh… this doesn’t… but… but, I...

(Kyoko steps forward and faces Hajime.)

KYOKO: I have some more information on what happened that day. After we were trapped here in the basement, all we had was the radio to inform us of the true nature of what happened. This is what I wrote down from those broadcasts.

(She hands Hajime a folder that contains three sheets of paper, all three of them hand-written notes. He begins reading.)

KYOKO: The class of 77-B was, most likely, all apparently under some sort of drug-induced psychosis. Most witnesses reported that they were acting strangely or out of character before they planted the bombs, and their eyes were hazy and… 

HAJIME: ”swirled”, “mixed”, “terrifying”, “comforting”, “light and dark” ...none of these make any sense.

KYOKO: My thoughts exactly. This entire event is bizarre and without any logical reasoning behind it… if you’d only heard about it on the news. But I think Makoto and I know more than any news outlets.

HAJIME: How?

(She looks over her shoulder to Makoto, signaling him to stand up.)

MAKOTO: Well, about a month ago me and Kyoko were going to one of the computer rooms to print something, but it was kind of out of the way, so we didn’t expect him to be there. N-Nagito, I mean. We saw him talking to Chihiro, and, uhm… I didn’t hear that part.

(He looks up to Chihiro. They stand meekly and fold their arms.)

CHIHIRO: H-he had been asking me to collaborate with him on a personal project, but… I didn’t have any spare time, and I didn’t even know him that well! So I finally just told him no, and he left me alone for a day or two… but t-then…

(Tears form at the corners of their eyes.)

CHIHIRO: H-he told me that… he was gonna… destroy the sc-sc-school if I didn’t-!

(They cover their face, and Makoto reaches out to rub their shoulder.)

MAKOTO: It’s not your fault, Chihiro. It’s nobody's fault but his. B-but anyway, after we heard about that, we decided that we had to keep an eye on him, but… basically the next day is when the bombs went off.

HAJIME: Why didn’t you just… tell a teacher what he told Chihiro?

MAKOTO: In hindsight… yeah, that would’ve been the safest thing we could’ve done. But Kyoko thought that we couldn’t keep an eye on him if he was expelled for that, a-and he could have been doing anything at home, so we fo-

KYOKO: Makoto, please, don’t. I was a coward, and I didn’t trust anybody else to investigate the matter. This whole situation could have been de-escalated dramatically if I had told school faculty.

(Kiyotaka stands from his spot next to Mondo.)

TAKA: You DIDN’T inform a teacher, or the Headmaster?! Miss Kirigiri, the school faculty always knows what is best for us!!

MONDO: Yeaaaah, is that why they all jumped ship and fucked off to who-knows-where so we could fight like dogs in the basement?

AOI: Hey, they did what they could, okay?? They had to protect themselves like everyone else! We’re not any better by hiding in the basement.

MONDO: Where the fuck ELSE were we supposed to go?? Candy land?!

YASUHIRO: Hey hey hey, Chihiro was right to lead us here the day the bombs went off! But I hear ya, maybe we coulda moved out of Japan together or somethin’ instead of hiding in Japan!

TOKO: I-I see why you’ve had to retake this year as m-much as you did now, you dumbass! He could b-be expanding anywhere now!!

BYAKUYA: As much as I hate to agree with her, I do. Nowhere is truly safe, and for all we may know, we’re being actively searched for. It’s only a matter of time before we have to relocate.

SAYAKA: I-I can’t stay here another second!! 

CELESTIA: Oh, so do you two suggest that we run out into the streets and expose ourselves to the predators? Play Nagitos game of cat and mouse?

LEON: Hell NO, I’m not playing that freaks game! But if he’s got his little possie out there looking every which way for us, then we gotta at least try and delay it!

SAKURA: On the other hand, we don’t know what they might want from us, if anything, or how bad the situation has escalated since we decided to hide.

HIFUMI: We don’t even KNOW what’s out there w-waiting for us anymore?! There could be giant mutant spiders wanting to turn us into baby food by now! I’m staying right HERE.

YASUHIRO: ...okay, I’m officially lost. Are we moving or staying?

SAYAKA: Moving!!

BYAKUYA: If you all intend on surviving, then you’ll all relocate. If you intend on being brutally murdered, then by all means, feel free to stay for a bit longer.

LEON: What in the actual fuck is wrong with you?? 

MAKOTO: H-hey, everybody calm down!!

SAKURA: We cannot make a decision until we know more about the outside world. AOI: But isn’t it because of what we don’t know that we have to go out there by now?

SAYAKA: Maybe some of us could go and some of us could stay?

TOKO: W-what if that reveals the hiding spot f-f-for everybody else??

MIKAN: (wiping away tears and hiccupping) N-nooo!!

YASUHIRO: Then we all have to come to the same decision, then.

CELESTIA: Yes, good luck reaching a peaceful consensus during the middle of an apocalypse!

BYAKUYA: I never said that it had to be a peaceful decision. If needed, you will all follow me kicking and screaming so I don’t perish thanks to your idiocy.

MONDO: I’ll knock some idiocy into ya if you keep runnin’ your mouth like that!

TAKA: Remember to take deep stomach breaths, bro! I think we can all solve this by utilizing a popular vote!

HIFUMI: But wouldn’t whoever’s the most popular win anyway??

HAJIME: SHUT UP!!! EVERYONE JUST SHUT UP!!!

(Everyone stops talking and stares at Hajime, who’s trembling and has his face in his hands.)

JUNKO: Daaaaaaamn, rookie’s kinda bold to be screaming at us like that, huh?

MAKOTO: Junko… you’re not helping. He’s obviously overwhelmed and you’re just teasing him.

JUNKO: C’mon, I’m nowhere near him! Hahah!

(Makoto sighs, sitting down next to Hajime on the floor. The rest of the students talk amongst themselves.)

MAKOTO: ...I’m sorry. I know you didn’t ask to be here, but… for what it’s worth, I’m glad that you’re still alive somehow.

HAJIME: … 

MAKOTO: You know… when Mukuro found you unconscious in that class, we all thought you were one of Nagitos’ friends. You seemed too peaceful in your sleep to have been running from anybody, or hiding from anything.

HAJIME: ...then why did you help me?

KYOKO: We thought we could get some information about the outside world. But apparently, you're just as lost as the rest of us.

MAKOTO: A-and because we didn’t want to leave anything to chance. Even if you were one of his people, we didn’t want you to just be out there. I’m glad that you weren’t, though… it feels nice to meet someone new again.

(Hajime lifts his face from his hands, palms and face covered in tears. He looks at Makoto with a faint smile.)

HAJIME: Yeah… feels nice.

☘️ TO BE CONTINUED☘️

[jpegjade]

Hot Coco - Spencer (dad!spencer)

I GOT CARRIED AWAY. 

warnings: angst. like hella angst. and my experience as a panic attack. those experiences vary but i just went off something that i wrote about during dad!spencer night thanks to a request to make it a one-shot. 

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Spencer had been gone for more than a week and there was no sign of when this case would wrap up. You were beyond worried and not getting much sleep.You didn’t sleep well when he was on cases or when he wasn’t by your side in general. He couldn’t talk to you much and your anxiety was at an all time high. You followed the news coverage when you were home and kept up with any social media updates. When you saw that two agents had been shot, their condition critical, you lost it. It could’ve been Spencer. It could’ve been anyone. Fuck, what if it was Spencer. 

You tried calling him and he didn’t pick up. You felt the panic rising in your chest and you weren’t able to calm down. You tried to think about what Spencer said last time, how you needed to focus on your breathing. You need to breathe before you hyperventilate. You couldn't stop watching the coverage, reading the tweets about everything going on. Your head started getting dizzy and you laid down in the corner. It usually wasn’t this bad but this time? It was horrible to think that Spencer could be out there, without his family, in the hospital and no one could reach you. Why wasn’t he picking up…

“Chloe, leave her alone.” Alexandria said, pulling her sister away from their parents’ bedroom door. They saw you start to spiral earlier in the day in the beginning. As soon as you saw the news, which wasn't remotely good, the girls saw you frantically look for your phone and retreat to the bedroom. They knew that if dad was in trouble, they would’ve heard from uncle hotchner or auntie JJ. No one called.

“Alex, she might need us.” Chloe was always scared when you or Spencer were acting strangely in any sense. She was more emotionally driven than her sister. She took after you while Alex was driven by logic, like her dad. 

“Let’s check on her. If we can’t fix it, the last resort is to call dad.” Alex said, crossing her arms. 

They had been through this before but as soon as they opened the bedroom door, they were more scared than they had ever been. You were sitting on the floor, in the corner of the room, rocking yourself and crying. Hard. The girls ran over to you and tried to get you to come out of it when you started shaking harder. You kept repeating something but they couldn’t make it out because it was a mumble that fell out of your mouth. 

“Momma. Mom. Come on, mom. Don’t do this.” Alex said, getting on one knee. She gently touched your arm and you recoiled further into yourself. 

“We need to get you in the bed. Can you get to the bed?” Chloe asked, but you didn’t respond. 

“What’s she saying?” Chloe looked over at her sister, then back at you. 

“‘He’s okay.’ I think she’s talking about dad.” The girls shared a look and continued trying to coax you into the bed. 

“Let’s try bringing dad up.” Chloe suggested, a half whisper directed at her sister. 

“Mom, can you get in bed for dad?” Alex said, getting nowhere. 

“She doesn’t know him as ‘dad.’ He’s spencer.” Chloe chimed in. 

“Spencer?” You said, snapping out of it temporarily. You recognized their faces but the world around you was so dark and everything was spinning still, your heart racing. It was hard to get control of yourself and even harder for the girls to watch this happen.

“Do you want to talk to him? To Spencer?” Alex felt weird referring to her dad as Spencer. It was just a weird thing to do but this wasn’t normal either. 

“Spencer?” You looked around the room but when you didn’t see him, you curled back up. 

“Come on, mom. Spencer wants you to go to bed.” Alex said, holding her hand out to you. 

You gingerly grabbed it, barely getting the energy to stand before Chloe opened the blanket for you so you could collapse into it. 

“I’m gonna call dad. I don’t think mom’s okay.” Chloe said, running to grab her phone. 

They were a little young for phones but you and Spencer agreed that because of the nature of his job, they needed to get in contact with each other. If it was an emergency, they texted “911.” Spencer didn’t care what he was doing. His family came first. 

One 911 text later, Spencer immediately called Chloe. There was a lot of radio chatter in the background so Chloe assumed that he was at a police station. 

“Dad, I’m scared.” Chloe was pacing, just like her father. 

“What’s wrong, Chloe? You should be sleeping.” Spencer was extremely concerned. It was late at night and the girls had school in the morning.

“Mom is having a really bad panic attack and she won’t move. She won’t even talk to us because it’s that bad.” Chloe’s voice was shaking, she was so scared. 

“Okay, put me on speaker and sit me next to her on the pillow. Is Alex making her the drink?” The police noises died down so Chloe assumed that her dad stepped out of the police station. 

At that exact moment, Alexandria walked out of the bedroom and went directly to the kitchen. 

“Yes but I’m really scared. Mom wouldn’t answer anything unless we said your name.” Chloe explained, walking back to the room. 

“I know, chlo. When I get back, we’re going to take her to the doctor but for right now, just put the phone next to her.” Spencer sighed, worried about you in all forms. 

You were getting pretty bad and he was thinking that he was thinking that he might need to ask Hotch for some time off to figure out what’s going on and get you centered again. 

When Chloe got back in the room, she found you curled up in the bed, tears soaking the pillow. Chloe slowly walked up to you, careful not to scare you. 

“Mom? Dad- I mean… Spencer is on the phone. Do you want to talk to him?” Chloe looked at you, watching you as you looked up and her. Chloe put the phone down and left the room. 

“He’s okay?” You asked, quietly. 

“Hey Princess.” His voice was calming, soothing. You instantly choked back a sob, knowing he was okay. 

“You’re…” You started but the words got caught. 

“I heard what’s happening. I need you to do something for me.” Spencer said, his eyebrows scrunching together. He could tell by your voice that it was a really bad time. 

“You can do this, okay? You have to breathe. You have to do it for me. I need you to breathe for me, princess.” 

The more he talked to you, the calmer you became. The easier it was to breathe. The panic attack still affected you but you were more grounded. 

“You’re safe?” You said, more to yourself than to him. 

“I’m safe, honey.” He was trying to make sure you were grounded with his voice, even though it broke him to hear you in such distress. 

The girls walked in, carrying a single hot chocolate in their hands for you. They set it on the bed-side table with a post it note and went to listen to music in the living room.

“Remember your breathing, okay? Your diaphragm is constricting and your heart is racing. The girls brought you some hot chocolate. You can turn over and see the cup with a note. ‘From Spencer and the girls’ written in purple pen. 

“Baby, I’m sorry.” You said, crying. 

“Don’t apologize, princess. I’ll take care of you, okay? Me and the girls are right here for you. Right now, I need you to get some rest. It’s really late, especially where you are, and I need you rested for when I come home tomorrow.” The team was heading back because the police department had the situation under control, or so they thought. 

“Mmhhmm.” You were drifting to sleep. 

“I think we need to get you to a doctor.” He was just talking to you now. “I also think we might need to go on a vacation. We haven’t gone anywhere since the girls were born and you need to get away.” 

“Where?” You asked, yawning. 

“I don’t know. Somewhere peaceful. Maybe an island or a cruise or a road trip.” All options were good options. He was just talking now. 

“Mmhmm.” You closed your eyes. 

“We can see the sunset on the beach or see the mountains. We can go snowboarding or even swimming. It can be like our honeymoon without the parts where we didn’t really go anywhere because we were going at it for hours.” Spencer chuckled at the memory. 

You let out a soft snore into the phone. Spencer knew that meant he was able to calm you down enough to rest. 

“Goodnight, princess. I love you so much.” He said, hanging up the phone. 

He sighed, sitting outside on the curb. 

“Fuck.” He whispered, knowing this was going to take some time to figure out.

___________

Dad!spencer is just so worried about his family when he’s gone. it’s so touching.