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vanfleeter · 2 months

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Matched: Chapter 4 - The Fight

Characters: Jake Kiszka x Thea Foster Warnings: 18+. Fluff. Kissing. Angst. Language. Jealousy. Yelling. Arguments. Broken glass. Physical violence. Mentions of a car accident. Hospital. Drinking. Smut. Oral sex (m receiving, implied f receiving). Unprotected sex (p in v). Breeding kink. Author's note: Second to last chapter before we take a mid series break after chapter 5! And when we come back, there may be some huge steps being taken ;) Also if there are any grammar mistakes, I'm sorry, I edited all the ones that I could find.

I can feel her soft hand running along the skin of my chest. Her nails are gently scratching as she goes. Her hand moves further down my body, inching closer and closer to the waistband of my briefs. I knew I was already hard, but she’s making it impossible. I keep my breathing even, in hopes that she doesn’t realize that I’m awake but it’s growing incredibly difficult to pretend that I’m sleeping.

Though I gave myself away when her hand finally touched me and my hips jolted on their own. She giggles and leans over to kiss my cheek. I pull open my eyes and look down at her as she innocently smiles up at me.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“I could feel you against my ass.”

I snort and pull her against me. “Did you know that it’s a common thing for men to have erections in the morning? Happens more often than not.”

She giggles before pressing her lips to my chest. “Well I’m glad you do,” She says. “Morning sex is always the best.”

“Oh is it now?” I say with a smirk. “Considering we’ve done that, what–two or three times?”

She giggles again, nodding her head as she keeps moving down my body. My eyes flutter closed as she starts to kiss my length. My breath hitches and my hand moves down to her head and tangles with her hair. Her tongue slides up and down, curling and licking me everywhere. I can’t help the moan that escapes me as she sinks her mouth around me, devouring the whole of my cock.

She’s bringing me closer to my release. Sweat beads on my skin. I can feel my legs shaking, the warm feeling in my body beginning to fill every part of me. Curses fly from my mouth before I could stop them as she has me hurling into my orgasm. I finally released my grip on her hair, my knuckles aching as I uncurl them.

Her lips come back up my body until they meet my own.

I slide my own hands down her back and squeeze her ass in my hands. She moans against my lips and I smile. Rolling us over, I spread her legs before inserting myself. She moans again, her hands finding their place on my back. Her nails dig into my skin and I groan.

My thrusts become intense, the need for her growing. Pulling her hands off my back, I pin them to the pillows beside her head, locking my fingers inside of her as I continue pounding into her. She moans my name. Her body arches against mine, the muscles of her torso rolling against mine.

Visions of the children flash through my mind. I dreamt of them again, seeing their little faces, hearing their laughter.

The feeling of her tightening around me, pulled me from my thoughts. My second orgasm slowly creeped up.

“Come on Jake..” She breathes. “Fill me…”

“Yeah?” I say, burying my face into her neck and kissing her skin. “Want me to fill you so full? Give you a baby?”

She laughs, her chest vibrating against me. “As long as they have your nose,” She says. She cries out as her orgasm takes over, mine own following seconds later.

We spent most of the day apart again. I had some appointments to attend while she was off at work. Though I could hardly pay much attention because all I could think about was her. Even during the interview that Josh and I were paired up for to discuss the upcoming festival shows, Josh did most of the talking and sometimes nudged me to talk myself since I’ve hardly uttered more than five words.

“Look, I get it, you’re in love–you finally have what you’ve always desired–but damn, Jake. I can’t always be the one to be talking during these things.” I raise an eyebrow, knowing full well that he loves to talk. “Okay fine, I don’t mind it, but you were silent ninety percent of the time.”

“I’m sorry, I promise in the next one I’ll talk more.”

“Yeah you better,” Josh takes a gulp of water before sitting up in his chair and clearing his throat.

After finishing up all the interviews for the day, I quickly raced home after a trip to the store, and got started on making dinner. Thea texted saying she'd come back over only if I promised to make her burgers. So here I am, pressing hamburger meat into small patties to grill.

I can feel her arms wrap around my waist as she comes to stand behind me at the grill. “You look very sexy when you cook.” She says as she kisses my shoulder.

“Oh do I now?”

She hums before kissing my shoulder again. “Can I help with anything?” She asks as she slides over to stand beside me.

I shake my head. “Burgers are nearly done, I have everything ready on the kitchen counter. Go on in and pour us something to drink while I take these off and bring them inside.”

“Okay..” She softly speaks before stepping back inside the house. Plating the burgers, I carry them in and set them on the counter. She comes over and hands me a glass of wine and takes a drink of her own.

“So I met with Sam for lunch today,” She says.

“I remember,” I say, recalling the memory of her texting me during one of the interviews. “How did it go?”

“It went…okay,” She says with a shrug of her shoulders. “It was so sudden..”

“What was it?” I ask, noticing how her voice trails off.

“He told me that he still loved me…”

My hand tightens around the wine glass. “He told you..what?”

“That he still loved me..” She takes a sip of her wine and sets the glass on the counter. “I tried to tell him that I didn’t love him like that anymore but then he–”

“Then he what?” I say setting my glass down so I wasn’t tempted to throw it.

“He kissed me…”

“What?!” I could feel the anger boiling in my veins. I refused to let the dream invade my thoughts again. I had moved past it, forgotten it entirely. “Did you kiss him back?”

“What?”

“Did you…kiss him…back?” I repeat.

It takes her a couple seconds to respond. “N-No.. I didn’t, I swear..”

“Did you want to?”

“Jake–”

“Did you..” I heard my voice raise, exactly how it did the last time I yelled at her so I forced myself to calm down before I continued. “Want to kiss him?”

“N-No..”

“Thea.. Do not lie to me.”

“I.. I..” She stammers. When I look at her, I can see the tears filling her eyes. “No, I..”

“Dammit…” I curse as I swing my hand knocking the wine glass off the counter. “So close.. So fucking close..”

“Jake, it happened so quickly and–”

I hold my hand up to silence her. “I need to cool off..” I say calmly before going over to grab my keys by the garage door.

“Where are you going?” She calls after me as I throw open the door. “Jake!” Was I all heard before I slammed the door closed behind me.

I didn’t know where I was going. Had no destination in mind. The thought crossed my mind to go to Josh but I knew he would just send me back home. ‘Talk it out with Thea’, he’d tell me. And I should. I know I should and I know that I can’t let this jealousy cloud my every thought because I know at the end of the day, she still chooses me. But I can’t help but to still feel jealous of their history. Short history, but history nonetheless. He loved her first, and she loved him first. A part of me can’t help but to also think that she’ll also love him too.

I ignored my phone vibrating in the middle console from yet another call from Thea. Even as I pulled into Sam’s driveway, the anger still boiling in my veins.

How could he confess that he still loved her?

How could he kiss her?

When he knows that she’s with me now, how could he do it?

The door opens after I pounded my fist upon. Before I could realize what I was doing, my hands were on his chest and shoving him backwards as I yelled at him. “YOU KISSED HER?!”

“Jake, listen-”

“No, you listen!” I yelled as I pushed him into the wall. “You gave her up! You don’t get to waltz back in and confess to her that you still love her! I finally feel like she loves me completely and then you fuck it all up!”

“It just happened, Jake.”

“That doesn’t “just happen”, Samuel,” I say as I shove him again. “Don’t mess this up for me Sam! I went through hell because of her and goddamn it, I won’t fucking do it again.” My vision blurs over as the tears rise. “Just let me have this.. Please..” My voice cracks.

“I can’t lie, Jake.. I meant what I said.”

“Sam! I am begging you, let me have this!”

“Jake, I let you have everything! I gave up my own dreams for this band! We all did! And I know I screwed up with Thea and I gave her up, but I will always love her! And maybe–who knows–she might come back to me. You do have a bad rep with women, we all know that.”

My fist suddenly collided with the side of his face, sending him to the floor. The pain shoots through my arm and I clench my teeth and my hand.

“Stay. Away. From. Her.” I say as I stand over him. “I fucking mean it, Sam.”

“And if I don’t?” He asks from his position on the floor. He cups his face in the palm of his hand.

“I may be smaller than you, but I can still beat the shit out of you.”

“Oh..” He dryly chuckles as he pulls himself to his feet. He wipes the blood that dribbles down his chin. I probably knocked a few teeth, but I don’t care. “You can beat me all you want, but that won’t change the fact that I still love her.” He towers me over, just slightly before he raises his hand and points to the door. “Get out before I call the police.”

“You’d really call the police on your brother?” I laugh and shake my head. “You’re despicable..” I say before turning away and heading for the door.

“Says the one who charged in here and punched me!” He yells as I slam behind me on my way out.

My fist aches as I drive home. I clench and unclench multiple times, willing the pain to go away. She’ll see it when I come back home and she’ll question me about it.

Pulling into the driveway, I see the front door swing open and she’s running down the walkway to my car. “I can’t believe you went over there!” She shouts. “And you punched him?!”

“I don’t want to discuss it.” I say as I make my way up to the door.

“You’re lucky he didn’t call the police on you!” She continued once the door was closed.

“And what good would that have done?”

“Jacob, you can’t just do that!”

“No?!” I spin around to face her. “I pined after you for years! I went through hell because of you! I thought you choosing Sam was the end of it all! I believed that I wouldn’t ever get the chance to love you the way that you deserved or to feel you love me! And then he comes back and confesses that he still loves you?! And kisses you?! And then you stand there,” I raise my hand towards the kitchen for a more dramatic moment. “And try to tell me that you didn’t want to kiss him when we both know that you did want to!”

“But I didn’t kiss him!”

“But you wanted to! Admit it, Thea! Admit to me, right now, that you wanted to kiss him! That you still love him!” Our eyes are locked on each other’s, our breathing heavy as the air continues to fill with anger and pain. “Or you can just say nothing and leave, but that will just prove to me that you do.”

“You’re being impossible..”

“I’m being impossible?!”

“Yes! You!” Thea says. Her hands come to my chest and she’s shoving me backwards. “I came to you, completely truthful about what happened! What more do you want from me?!”

“To be truthful now!” I shout. “Tell me right now if you wanted to kiss him!”

“Yes!”

My fists instinctively clench into balls at my sides. The pain is still imminent in the one that I used to punch Sam. But that pain doesn’t compare to the pain I feel in my heart from her finally admitting that she wanted to kiss him. The next question I want to ask her again, I know I’ll regret it if she gives the answer that we both know is the truth. The answer that my heart won’t be able to handle again.

My voice shakes as I begin to ask it, “Do you… Do you still love him?” I feel a tear slip down my cheek. Her face is already covered in her own. “As much as I can’t bear to hear the truth, Thea, I am begging you to be honest with me.. Do you still love him?”

“Yes but–”

“Then go..” I say. “Please..”

“Jake.. Please, don’t-”

“I said go.” I say more sternly.

“Please, Jake, we need to talk-”

“And we will.. After we have our space.. I need you to figure out for yourself what–and who–you want..”

“I want you, Jake..” She says as she grabs my hands.

I shake my head, pulling my hands away and taking a step back. “You need to leave..” I say before taking another step back and turning away to go to the kitchen.

I noticed the broken glass was cleaned up and the food put away. I can hear the front door open before shutting a couple seconds later. Pulling open the fridge, I grab an ice pack and press it to my hand.

Just when I thought it was all finally working out, all it comes crumbling down again.

It’s been a week since the fight. I hadn’t spoken much to Sam, except for what needed to be communicated. Otherwise, we kept our distance. I hadn’t even spoken to Thea. As much as I wanted to, I knew what I did was right, despite how painful it is. In the end though, I need her to decide who she’d rather be with. Me or Sam? And I can’t compete with him. I won’t.

Today’s the first festival show of the year, and the first show all together. I wanted her there, watching us–me play from the side of the stage. I had forgotten I had asked for her to be placed in my room at the hotel and I had forgotten that I planned for the night to be for us when our set was over. When I stepped into the room that night, I found a bottle of champagne and two glasses. The bed was covered in rose petals. Cheesy but I wanted the first night to be romantic. Make it a great first show back. Start off the tour with a bang.

The room is quiet, save for the AC blowing from the ventilation system. Stripping out of my clothes, I start the shower and get in. The hot water nearly scalded my skin, but that didn’t matter much compared to how crushed my heart felt. Sounds so pathetic.

I thought we had this epic love. Now it's all just a bunch of questions that I don’t have the answers to. Answers that I don’t think I’ll ever have.

Finishing up the shower, I come back out of the room and clear off the bed, throwing each petal into the trash. I've been haunted every night since I made her leave, her face always there. Those tears that fill her eyes ricochet off the walls of my brain, constantly making itself known. I know I hurt her, I know I treated her poorly, but didn’t I also have a right to feel hurt too? To know my brother still loves her too, and will fight to get her back. Don’t I get to be upset too?

I hear my phone ringing on the nightstand and I go to pick it up, only to see her name. She hasn’t reached out at all since that night, nor have I.

My heart thrums in my chest. Anxious over seeing her name, her smiling face looking at me from the photo I used for her contact. I missed that smile. I wasted my time admiring her picture when it disappeared from view and was replaced with the notification bubble that I had one missed call. I waited to see if she’d try calling again, but nothing. Not even a notification that she left a voicemail or sent a text. Maybe it wasn't important enough, I try to tell myself as I get into bed.

The next morning comes quicker than I wanted it to as my alarm blares. Turning over, I grab my phone and shut it off. A few notifications pop up. All from Thea.

1:30am: ‘I’m sorry for bothering you so late..’

1:31am: ‘But I just really want to hear your voice..’

1:33am: ‘Sounds pathetic, I know.. Especially after what happened.. But.. I miss you…”

Doesn’t sound pathetic, Thea. I miss you too. I can’t tell you that because I’m still hurt, I’m still angry.

Reluctantly, I get out of bed and go to get dressed, when my phone buzzes. I pick it up, heart pounding in anticipation of it being Thea. But instead it’s a message from Josh asking if I’m ready to go yet. I type back a response before shoving my phone into the pocket of my pants.

Stepping out into the hallway with my bags slung over my shoulders, I find Sam waiting in front of the elevator with his things as well. He glances over, giving the petty action of looking me up and down before turning back to face the elevator. Huffing a sigh, I go over to stand beside him. Maybe I should talk to him. I can’t always be mad at him. He’s my brother.

“Sam, I–” I go to speak before he stops me.

“If you’re not going to apologize for punching me in the face, then I don’t want to hear it.” He says as the doors of the elevator slide open.

“I am sorry,” I say as I follow him into the elevator. “I resorted to violence because I was angry and I knew it wasn’t right but I still did it anyway.. I don’t like to fight with you, and I can’t stand not talking to you either.” I sigh, my shoulders dropping. “I don’t want a fucked up relationship with you.”

Sam stares straight ahead at the closed doors of the elevator. The only sign that he’s even aware of where he is is the blinking of his eyelids.

“Sam?”

“I’m sorry too..” He grumbles with an eye roll. “But I meant what I said.. I still love Thea..”

“Sam-”

“But I know you love her too. You always have.” He sighs and lowers his head. “I made a mistake, Jake, by letting her go. Though I guess I’m just jealous seeing you two together, so happy and in love. And I know I should just be happy for you, and I am, but there’s still that part of me that wishes that she still loves me back.”

“She does..” I say. “She told me she still loves you, right before I made her leave.”

His head snaps to the side as he looks at me. “You did what?”

“We got into this huge fight and I told her to leave..”

“Wh.. Why?”

“We needed space, to figure out what it is we both want. I mean, I think I made it pretty clear what I wanted.. But I know she needs to figure out for herself what it is that she wants.”

“It’s you,” He says. “She told me that after I kissed her.. I could see it, as much as I wanted to deny it. She chose you, Jake, and I guess I’m just gonna have to live with that. Sure she still loves me, but she only loves me as a friend.”

The elevator stops on the main floor and opens up to reveal Josh and Danny waiting in the lobby. “So.. Are we okay now?” I ask.

Sam nods his head. “Just promise to never punch me again?”

I chuckle. “I’m your older brother, it’s my job.”

“Of course,” He says with a roll of his eyes.

“I see smiles!” Josh beams. “I take it we made up?”

Sam nods his head. “Yeah, we did.”

“Thank goodness,” Josh sighs in relief. “All this tension has been agonizing.”

“Are you going to talk to her?” Josh asks me after we get seated on the plane.

I shrug my shoulders. “I want to..”

“So then what are you waiting for?” He asks. “Just call her.”

“It’s not that easy, Josh.”

“Not easy? Sam’s backing off.. So go get her.”

I shake my head. “She has to decide who she wants.”

“She wants you–”

“But she loves Sam.”

“She loves you.”

“She loves Sam.”

“Jake…”

“Josh…”

“You’re being difficult..”

I scoff and shake my head. “You don’t understand, Josh.”

“Then enlighten me, please–because I’m so lost in this whole thing you won’t tell me anything.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I say as I pull out my headphones and rest them on my ears. I can see Josh shaking his head before sinking in his seat and pulling out a book to read. Turning on music, I lean back in the seat and close my eyes.

Pulling into the driveway and cutting the engine, I head up to the front door. I start to unlock the door when my phone buzzes. Just one day, I just want one day where I won’t be disturbed. Taking my phone out, I see a phone I didn’t recognize so I decide to ignore it and go inside. Dropping my bags on the floor, I head into the living room and pour a drink when my phone beeps. Taking it back out of my pocket, I see a voicemail left by the unknown number.

Sighing, I unlock my phone and click on the notification bringing me to my voicemail. I barely registered most of it before I was running out of the front door and back out to the car.

Everything went by in a blur as I sped through the city. I didn’t care if I got a speeding ticket and I didn’t care if she hadn't made her decision but she asked for me. That has to mean something, right?

Coming to a halt in front of the hospital, I toss my keys to the valet and rush inside. “Can I help you?” The lady at the desk asks.

“I uh, I’m looking for Thea.. Thea Foster?” I say as I impatiently tap my fingers on the counter.

“Thea Foster, ah yes, she was admitted into the ER.”

“Thank you,” I say before heading off towards the ER.

After convincing the staff that I was her husband, even though I’m nowhere near having that title, they allow me back through the double doors. A nurse shows me to her room and leaves. Gently knocking on the door, I slowly open it and peer my head inside. She’s half asleep when I step around the curtain.

“Jake?” She says, her voice raspy.

“It’s me..” I say as I walk over to the bed. I pull a chair over to sit down. “What happened?”

“I take it you didn’t listen to the voicemail the nurse left you?”

“Just enough to know where to find you.” I say, earning a light giggle from her. She winces and clutches her ribcage. “What happened?” I ask again.

“I didn’t think you’d show after–”

“Thea..” I say, leaning on the bed. “What happened?” I ask for the third time.

She takes a deep breath. “Some idiot ran a red light, t-boned my car. Luckily it was on the passenger but it still fucked me over.. I’m sorry that I bothered, you were just the first person that came to my mind and I wasn’t sure if you were back home or not,” She intakes a deep breath. “I really didn’t think you’d come o-or even care.”

“Of course I care.” I say as I grab her hand.

Tears start to fill her eyes and her bottom lip quivers. “Jake, I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I was so stupid.”

“Let’s not talk about that right now, okay?” I say as I squeeze her hand.

“But-”

“Hush, you need to stay relaxed. Get some sleep while we wait for the doctor to come back.”

“Will you still be here when I wake up?”

I nod my head and kiss her hand. “I’ll be here..”

I didn’t know that I had fallen asleep until I was being awoken by Thea. She was sitting up in bed and carefully trying to tie her hair back behind her head. “Oh, I’m sorry,” She speaks softly. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay..” I grumble before I yawn. “What are you doing?”

“I need to walk,” She says. “I’m tired of being stuck in this room.”

I chuckle. “It’s only been a couple hours. Are you even allowed to leave your room?”

She nods her head. “The doctor came in a little bit ago to discuss my tests. Won’t be done for at least an hour, so I asked if I could go for a walk and he said it was okay.”

Standing to my feet, I help her put on her shoes before carefully lifting her off the bed. “Mind if I join you?” I ask.

“Please.. I’m gonna need someone to lean on.”

I smile and wrap my arm around her. The walk was quiet as we made our way around the ER halls. I kept my arm wrapped around her as she leaned up against me. How I’ve missed having her this close. If I can’t handle being away from her for a week, how can I ever handle never being around her? I suffered enough once before, I don’t think I can do it again.

I can feel her tapping my arm. I look down at her and she’s smiling. “You’re thinking..” She says.

“Better than seeing old men butts.” I say making her laugh.

She groans and holds her chest. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks.

“Umm..” I clear my throat. “You..”

“Me?”

I nod my head. “I don’t know what you’ve decided, but I’m being selfish and just wanting you back.. This past week has been hell not having you with me and this, right here, despite the unfortunate circumstances, makes me miss you even more.”

“I miss you too.”

I huff and stop walking. “I love you, and I get it if you still love Sam so.. If he’s who you decide on, then I’ll respect that, regardless of how painful it is.”

“Well I have made my decision,” She says. “Can I tell you?” I nod my head, preparing to hear Sam’s name roll off of her tongue. Instead she’s reaching up to kiss me.

“Me?” I say when we pull apart.

“You..” She says with a smile. “It’s always been you.”

I pull her in, careful not to harm her any further, and kiss her again. “I love you.” I told her. “I really do.”

“I love you too, husband.” She winks at me before slowly turning on her feet and continuing on down the hall.

“I only said that so they’d let me past the doors.”

“Feels good to say it though,” She says as she turns around to face me with a smirk.

“Now, most of your normal activities you can resume, except for anything strenuous.” The doctor says. “If at all that your pain persists or gets worse, please come back. Any questions?”

“Yes,” I lean forward in the chair. “When you say no to strenuous activities, does that include–”

“Jacob!” Thea hisses as she slaps her hand across my arm.

The doctor laughs and pushes off the sink in the room. “Not the first husband to ask, and definitely won’t be the last. Yes, you can–but be gentle. I am going to get out of your hair now, you have your discharge papers, come back if the need arises, but go home and get some rest.”

Instinctively I drove back to my house, convincing her to stay with me. “You just want me back in your bed.” She says as I carry her up the stairs.

“Would that be a bad thing?”

“No, not at all.” She says before starting to kiss my neck. Her hands travel to my shirt as she starts to undo the buttons, which weren’t much. “Just be gentle.”

“I can be gentle.” I lay her on the bed and slowly start to undress her.

“Well when he said to take it slow, I don’t think he meant this slow.”

I laugh and stretch up to kiss her. “Maybe I don’t want to rush it.”

“Jake, please..”

“Okay,” I sing as I move down her body. “But don’t blame me if we have to go back to the ER.”

________________________________________________________

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mx-pastelwriting · 2 years

Note

Hi! If its not much trouble, may I please request a Kate Denali x fem reader a fluffy one shot? Where R is an old friend of Rosalie so when she comes to help be a witness she meets Kate who happens to be her mate.

Love it so much!!

Kate Denali x GN Vampire!Reader

Summary: Request up Top!

Warning: Fluff, Meeting your mate

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

Getting the invitation to your friend Rosalie's brother's wedding was a let-down, as you were on the other-side of the world, running from the Voltuir. They said your crime spoke for itself, but you knew what they really wanted was your gift.

Though you couldn't make it to the wedding, really all you wanted to see was your dear friend and her family, not really caring about the human girl's wedding. You joined the coven for a year, even though you couldn't handle everything they did, and you missed being with them.

Things started to feel out of place when the faint scent of Demetri faded from the air. The feeling of relief filled you not long after the questions started to begin.

All the years of his scent getting closer, even though the months were always a rush because it meant you had to find a new place, but now it wasn't getting closer to your little cabin deep in the woods. No, the scent was very familiar. It was coming close and fast. You still couldn't figure it out, but you didn't have to.

Your dear friend Rosalie and her husband came to knock on your door. Seeing her after all these years, happiness flooded your body, but the hug was cut short as they told you of the news of the hybrid and upcoming war.

You gladly took the opportunity to join.

Though the question of meeting the little girl cut short your warm welcome with Esme and Carlisle. Having not been with a vampire in such a long time, you had forgotten the strength of them, the smell, the feeling of being in your own corner, so as not to threaten one of them. It makes you scared of meeting the new vampire.

Walking towards the girl, Edward could hear your worries. The man next to the girl, who smelled like a badly washed dog, saw your face and looked concerned. "Hello," the little girl spoke as she waited for you to knell. She quickly placed her hand on your cheek, showing you her memories.

"I know, but she's our sister. We can't just turn on her!" A load of voices boomed into your ears before the girl quickly made her way back to her parents. Two blonde women quickly came your way, arguing out loud about their sister. You said the sister is what started this, as from the information you were given on the way here.

As the one with the straight hair looked over at Rosalie to say something, her eyes quickly met yours. The air was sucked out of your dead lungs as her amber eyes looked into yours. She had you feeling as if your heart could start beating again under her eyes. Coming back from the trance, you noticed how everyone stayed silent.

"I finally found you." You breathed again as her words made their way into your ears. You could help but smile at the realization that you had so quickly found your mate.

———————————————————————————

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is and grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

#kate denali #kate denali x reader #the twilight saga #twilight saga #twilight

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xaharadesert · 2 years

Text

Domestic LI Headcanons

Arcana Characters (Main 6) x MC

A/N: this one is for @rotten-alex, who has promised to send me many more requests soon! I’ll be holding you to that lol :) it’s almost 4am when I’m positing this, so I don’t know if any of it actually makes sense :) please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes! Requests are open!

TW: super brief mention of depression and PTSD in Muriel section

❤️Julian❤️

He often struggles to help out around the house as much as he’d like to

Since he’s never really settled in one place for a long time, he doesn’t know how to do a lot of the chores that most people do

He wants to help though, so if you teach him how, he’ll make sure he does them perfectly every time :)

Can’t cook though

Don’t even bother teaching him

Actually, just keep him away from the kitchen all together, he’s a menace

He has his own little office space in your house to keep all his notes and leeches and such

It’s absolute chaos, but he insists he has a “system”, so please don’t clean it

Sometimes his leeches escape, and he’s so sorry and he always promises that it’ll never happen again, but of course, it does

As far as interior decorating goes, he knows nothing, so it’s completely your call

All that he requests is a very large bed, tall ceilings, and a long couch that he can actually stretch out on

Speaking of the couch, one of his favourite things to do in his down time is cuddle up with you and read a book

That’s probably one of the few peaceful activities that he regularly participates in

As we all know, he’s a huge theatre nerd

So he’ll probably spend a lot of time traipsing around the house, practicing his lines for an upcoming performance

If you don’t mind, he loves it when you help him practice

He also occasionally writes his own pieces; monologues and short scenes are his specialty, and you’re always his first audience

🧡Portia🧡

She’s lived on her own in one place for a long time, so she’s super independent, and it takes her a while to get used to living with another person in the house

It’s nice, though, to have someone else to rely on

Chores and cooking are split up pretty evenly between the two of you

She’s arguably more busy, since she’s pretty much in charge of the palace staff, but she always insists that she do equal work at home too

Not to mention she bakes really often

Your house always smells of whatever baked goods she’s made most recently

And you have so much of whatever she’s made that you’ll probably be able to gift some to your friends as well

She also likes to keep dozens of potted plants inside

Not to mention her massive garden outside

She’s got a green thumb, to say the least

Plants love her as much as she loves them, and you’ll never see any of hers die

She names her favourite after you

Oh by the way, I hope you’re not allergic to cats

Because Pepi’s hair is literally everywhere

This inevitably includes the food you eat, I’m so sorry

💛Lucio💛

You’ll be spending so much time with his pets, seeing as he views them as family

They’ll be accompanying you almost anywhere you go, so you won’t have a lot of alone time

This also means that pretty much everything you own is covered in dog hair

You invest in some lint rollers or whatever the Vesuvian equivalent is to help with that

Since neither of you have to cook or do chores, you have a lot of free time on your hands

Lucio usually finds entertainment in parties and fighting, so hopefully you have similar tastes

He likes to plan parties with you and thinks it’s a good way to bond

But if you prefer more low-key activities in your spare time, he’s willing to accommodate

Really, he just wants to spend time with you, impress you, and have all of your attention

His favourite time of day is first thing in the morning when he can just drape himself on top of you and refuse to move

Then you’re forced to cuddle with him for a long while in the comfort of the warm bed

Honestly not a bad deal

There’s no strict schedule for the two of you, so you kinda just go about your day as you’d like

💚Muriel💚

He’s not super picky about chores being done

Often times he completely forgets to do them

He’s lived in his own for so long that it didn’t even occur to him that you might have a different opinion on the matter

If you do the chores, he’ll be incredibly grateful

Sometimes he has days that are worse than others, depression and PTSD-wise, so doing everyday tasks can feel like a lot

If you’re willing to step in and help more than usual on those days, then he’ll be eternally appreciative

It means the world to him that you still love him even on the bad days

When he has a good day, he tries to make up for it by doing more chores than usual, and cooking your favourite meal

Usually, it’s whichever of you has the time to cook that does so, but occasionally one of you will go out of your way to treat the other

Little acts of service are one of Muriel’s favourite ways to say “I love you”

Inanna is like a third person in your house

She always wants to feel included, so whatever the two of you are doing, you can bet she’s inserting herself into the situation

It’s cute though, so you can’t really complain

But, again, her hair will get literally everywhere

And when she sheds, you’ll probably end up coughing up a hair ball from how much you inhale from the air alone

💙Asra💙

Cleaning is absolutely not his thing, so I’m sorry, but that’s up to you

On the other hand, he loves to cook, and he loves to try out new recipes that almost always turn out amazing

So he’s in charge of all of your meals

He’ll often wake up before you just to have breakfast ready for you

You might think that’s odd, because Asra is the type to sleep quite a bit, but it turns out that taking naps throughout the day is actually a great way to be able to wake up early after a nighttime rest

With that being said, the naps are constant

He’s like a cat; he sees a patch of sunlight and just plonks himself down in it and sleeps

You’ve probably tripped over him a few times on accident

But usually Faust is hanging out with him, keeping watch, so she’ll warn you before you step on him

She’s a good friend like that

Sometimes Asra will convince you to nap with him (it’s actually one of his favourite things to do together)

He adores cuddling, and naps are a good excuse to snuggle up to you for a long period of time

He also knows how to sew

And he loves to make you and him all kinds of comfy and often ugly clothes (are they ugly on purpose? No, he just has terrible fashion sense)

💜Nadia💜

Her domestic life and her work life often blend together, unfortunately

It comes with being the countess; she always has to be prepared to work to make Vesuvia a better place

It can be annoying, having to sacrifice your downtime together for her to work, but you know it’s necessary

She’s getting better at separating the two, so that’s wonderful

When it’s just the two of you together with no expectations, she feels genuinely free and happy

She likes to spend time curled up on the couch in the library with you, reading a good book and perhaps having a glass of wine

Alternatively, she likes simply having long and meaningful conversations

Your lives have been so different, so it feels like there’s endless subjects to discuss

She can spend time explaining the political landscape of foreign countries and how they affect the economy of their neighbouring countries, or you can talk about a new spell you’re working on; it doesn’t matter to her, as long as you’re someone time together

Sometimes the two of you like to play little games as well, like chess

She always wins, no matter how many times you play

She’s just naturally talented (or so she claims— you know she practices)

Late at night, after a particularly rough day, she likes to slow dance with you in your shared bedroom

It helps her relax before you go to sleep— a reminder of the simpler and happier things in her life that she can look forward to every day

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nepenthendline · 4 years

Text

Quiet S/O cheering them on - Karasuno

this is so cute, hope you enjoy! sorry if theres any spelling or grammar mistakes I’m using a new keyboard so it’s taking some getting used to lol

Request: maybe how karasuno (or whichever team you’re in the mood for) reacts to their normally quiet s/o coming to a game and busting a lung cheering for them?

Daichi:

he feels so supported by just seeing you in the stands, and he knows that being loud and cheering isn’t for everyone

just give him a ‘good luck’ kiss before he goes out and he’s already pumped up

during a difficult part of the final set, Daichi makes an incredible receive, sending the crowd into a fit of cheers

but the one voice he heard clearly was you, calling his name and cheering for him

he was stunned, turning to find you, giving you a huge smile and a thumbs up

Daichi didn’t want to make too big of a deal out of it, as he knew it was probably a spur of the moment thing for someone as quiet at you, but his heart swelled, and the warmth didn’t leave him for the rest of the match

he was definitely going to play well now

he didn’t bring it up much afterwards, except giving you a tight hug and thanking you for coming, however the affect sticks with him for a while

Sugawara:

he’s usually head cheerleader for Karasuno, and he loves being able to get others cheering too

he knew he probably wouldn’t end up playing, but he still loved when you came to watch his matches to support the rest of the team

Kageyama got sent out to cool his head, and Ukai brought him in instead

he was standing on the court with the ball close to his face, trying to shake off the nerves and pressure

he tried to block out all the sound in the gymnasium, focusing on his breathing alone

that was until he heard a yell of his name, and a ‘good luck’ in a strained voice, knocking him out of his concentration

he knew that voice, and his head shot up to find it

he saw you waving at him, calling out to him again with a grin on your face

his eyes teared up a little, but this wasn’t a time for crying, he could do that after when he didn’t have a game to win

he send you a wide, bright grin, then focused back on the ball, sending the set to the other side and scoring a point

he was still nervous, but he felt like you had his back, no matter what

Asahi:

he had been feeling so anxious about this upcoming match since they were facing Date Tech again

everyone, including you had been telling him how amazing he was going to do, and how that, even if his spikes got blocked, he could try again

even so, he couldn’t get the fear out of his head

you had come along to the match to, hopefully, make him feel a little more settled, and even just the hug you gave him before he went out made his heart calm down just a little

the match wasn’t going too well so far, every spike of his had been shut down, and he could feel the panic rising

he couldn’t call for the toss again, he was going to mess it up, he should leave it to Tanaka or Daichi-

he was knocked out of his thoughts when he heard you yell from the crowd, screaming for him to call for the toss

it was so sudden, but he felt himself overcome his anxieties

he didn’t feel like an ace, or someone worthy of being able to knock a spike through, but he couldn’t let you down, not after you supported him like this

if you could get past your worries and quietness, he could get past his fears

so, he called for the toss, screaming as loud as you did, and used the weight of his anxieties to smack down the ball on the other side

he was a little dumbfounded as he heard the referee give them the point, realising he had gotten through the blockers

he was speechless and looked to you in the crowd

he knows you couldn’t hear him, but he send a ‘thank you’ your way, and a bashful smile

Nishinoya:

he knew how quiet you were, which was the complete opposite to him, but he thought you complimented each other perfectly

he loved having you come to his matches and watch him; it made him feel invincible and full of energy

even if you were quiet, just knowing you were there was enough for him

you loved being there to support him and the team had been doing so well

sometimes you felt a little bad as you didn’t cheer along with the others since it was so against your usual nature, but you wanted to push yourself and do more for him

it’s not much, but you knew how much cheering for him would mean to him

each team player was called one-by-one onto the court, and as Nishinoya’s name and number was introduced, you yelled out, cheering for him

as soon as he heard your voice, he found you in the crowd and started jumping up and down, yelling back to you

he ran over to the side closest to you, waving and blowing you kisses until the referee blow his whistle in a warning

he didn’t seem the slightest bit embarrassed though, and kept taking glances and waving to you when the referee wasn’t looking

he kept a huge grin, and a positive attitude for the entire match

he was so touched and proud of you for cheering for him, and he knew that he could win this for you

Tanaka:

it was always his dream to have his girlfriend cheer for him at matches, and he always thought he would react in a tough, manly way that exuded ‘yeah I’m a cool guy with a cute girlfriend’

it was the first match of his that you had come to, and while it was so far out of your comfort zone, you knew how much supporting him meant to him

so, as he spiked the ball and scored against three blocked, you cheered for him, so loud that you even surprised yourself

you both looked at each other in complete shock

he could feel his cheeks burning hot, and his legs going weak at the sound of your voice

he could feel tears welling up in his eyes, and it wasn’t until Noya smacked him on the back, giving him a thumbs up that he snapped out of his stare

his pink cheeks lifted as he grinned, beaming at you

he couldn’t wait to run to you after the match and give you the biggest hug

after every point he scored, he looked at you with a smile, pointing to you, as if telling you that he won that point for you specifically

he held no embarrassment in letting the whole crowd know that he was yours, and his strength came from you

Tsukishima:

since you were both quiet, you worked together so well and enjoyed talking about deeper things and your interests rather than small talk or unnecessary words

he felt a little nervous inviting you to his match, but you had mentioned many times how you wanted to watch him

at least you’d be quieter than the others and not draw attention to him, right?

so he was not expecting it all to hear you cheering for him, with so much enthusiasm when he successfully blocked the ball

at first, he winced a little at the loudness, until he realised it was you calling out to him

he had so many thoughts running through he head; how the hell was that you? since when have you been able to yell so loudly? and mostly, why?

he wanted to be embarrassed, but as soon as he saw the big, proud smile on your face, he could feel himself melt a little

he send you a smile back, and a shy, little wave

maybe having you there to support him wasn’t so bad

Yamaguchi:

when you had asked him to if you could come along to his match, he felt so insecure telling you that he wouldn’t be playing, so you’d just be watching the others instead

you insisted you wanted to come anyway, just in case, and you could still support Tsukishima and the others

you’d send each other little waves as he stood in the bench lineup and you sat in the crowds, and he was a little relieved that you were quiet and didn’t cheer for anyone, as he knew he would have doubted himself and his skill even more

the team had come to a standstill with getting points, and Ukai called for a member change

oh no, Ukai was calling for him to go on

he couldn’t stop shaking as he walked to his spot, tearing up in the anxiety of doing his serve

his trembling hands could barely hold the ball as he positioned himself

as soon as he heard you call out to him, he dropped the ball and instantly faced you

“you can do it Tadashi!” you shouted, then gave him a thumbs up and blew him a kiss

his mouth fell open and his face was bright red; he was half embarrassed that now all the attention really was on him, but half so touched that you supported him like that

he was in a complete mess of a daze until he heard Tsukishima call his name

“listen to them,” he said with a flat tone

with both of your support, he knew that he could at least give this his best shot, and if it didn’t go well, then he knew he wasn’t alone

Kageyama:

from his time in middle school, the only calls for him were to tell him to get off the court, or that he was being too selfish

he’s never really thought about having someone there to cheer him on

just having you by his side at school was so strange for him, yet so comforting

he really wanted you to watch him play, and to hopefully be impressed by his skill and fall in love with volleyball

ok, and maybe fall for him harder too

seeing you in the stands mean’t so much to him; the two things he loved the most were together, and he couldn’t feel any better than in this moment

since you were usually so quiet, you had sent him your best wishes and given him a kiss on the cheek before he had to head off for stretching - that alone at almost sent him into a puddle

stepping onto the court, he felt so calm and collected knowing you where there to support him

what surprised him was when you began loudly cheering as he walked to his spot to set

he had no idea what to do or what to think, he’d never thought this would happen

he just stood there with his eyes and mouth wide, staring up at you while gripping the ball

you sent him a soft smile as Hinata started ranting about how he wants a girl to cheer for him, and how jealous he was

he smiled back at you, then rested the ball on his forehead, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath

all that was in his mind was your voice and winning

Hinata:

Hinata had been begging you to come watch him play since the moment you started dating

he just really wanted you to see how cool volleyball was, and also how good he was

the second years had been constantly talking about how jealous they were that Hinata had a cute girl to cheer him on since they found out about his relationship, and, even though he knew you were too quiet to actually cheer him on loudly during a match, he knew you were wishing for him to win and that you gave so much support

he waved at you in the stands when he entered the court, thinking you looked so cute as you shyly waved back

he felt so energetic having you there to watch, and also so cool, like ‘wow! there’s someone here to watch me! and only me!’

he was doing so well during this match; his jumps were strong, his spiking was incredible, and he was able to help the team get a number of points from being a decoy

it was match point for Karasuno so the tension in the gymnasium was high

Hinata and Kageyama’s fast quick had scored them the winning point, the two yelling at each other about how good it felt

he was knocked out of his euphoric moment as he heard your voice cheering for him, calling out his name and yelling

he almost had stars in his eyes as he found you, yelling back at you and waving with his cheeks a little pink

his grin was so bright, and it felt so, so good hearing you cheer for him

his chest felt so warm; this felt even better than winning

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wasabipoptart · 2 years

Note

Hi! I really like your way of pyschological observation on OFMD! Your post about Ed's id, ego and superego is very interesting so I want to ask you something about Stede's behaviour I still have problems to understand (I still wasn't able to watch the whole series yet so I'm sorry if the upcomming ask may be a a bit silly):

I want refer to the act of grace and Stede's reaction to it. When Ed hears that he has to sail for the british it seems he just then realizes what it means for him to give up in return to save Stede - 1. his freedom as pirate 2. Blackbeard. I guess he's sad for 1. but the relief the whole "Blackbeard" character and its weight is taken away from his shoulders/heart makes more than up for it. Stede seeing Ed signing the contract also realizes what Ed "sacrifices" for him but reacts differently. Edward later tells him it's ok for him (bunk bed scene) but Stede doesn't believe (?) him? Is Stede sad about Ed has to give up Blackbeard? Imo Stede seems to feel a bit uncomfortable in the presence of just Ed (Nobeard) without his "Blackbeard"-character? Stede seems to feel guilty for Ed's sacrifice and still hopes it's just a plan by Ed "staging" he is ok with it? Sorry I don't know how I can express it better.

Later on the beach when Stede remembers Mary's speech "I know we wouldn't have chose each other in million years but all we have is this one life" I don't quite get the conext - does Stede think about getting back to Mary because he feels guilty he left her and the children without saying goodbye? Or shows it Stede's want to go with Ed because he actually just has only this one life and leaving everything else behind?

All his mimics/gestics in the beach scene don't show imo a 100% agreeing to go with Ed - there is stll uncertainty, guilt, low self-worth (I hurt Mary, my children and now Ed)? Or maybe I'm just dumb. -_-'

When Stede is taken hostage by Badminton and told he defiles beautiful thing (Mary, Ed) imo Badminton says what Stede thought the whole time about himself? And seeing the self-shooting (a trigger?) by Chauncey puts Stede under shock to flee from everything, go back to his old life to 'fix' everything?

Is there a parallel about his 'fleeing from Mary and the children' and the 'fleeing from Ed'?

I'm sorry for all the mistakes in languages/grammar and if I switched up things! I'm looking forward to your opinion! Thank you for taking time for my ask in advance! <3

Good questions...I don't think Stede is uncomfortable around Ed without the Blackbeard persona, but Stede doesn't understand that Ed didn't do it *just* for Stede; he also did it because he didn't want to be Blackbeard anymore and this was his out (a kind of "retirement," as it were). What Stede is uncomfortable with is the loss of his own freedom. He ran away from his family because he wanted to be free, and now having found it (with Ed, so he thinks) he's being forced to sign it away again. So Ed and Stede both want very different things: Stede can't understand why Ed is ok with losing his freedom, but Ed doesn't see it that way at all.

I think Stede finding out that Mary had him declared dead sent him into a panic. If all we have is "this one life," he didn't even have that one life anymore. He fucked up and now he thinks he has to go back and make it right.

I agree that he had no intention of going through with the escape, and had Ed not been so lovestruck by the kiss he might have seen that. (This whole scene was so, so cringey for me on my first viewing because I could guess what was going to happen next.)

Stede left Ed because he thought he could go back to his old life, and he thought Ed would go back to his, and everything would go back to the way it was; unfortunately, neither Ed nor Mary wanted to go back and Stede was very wrong to make that unilateral decision.

Chauncey telling Stede that he "brought the greatest pirate to ruin" basically echoed what he was already thinking. Chauncey, along with Stede and Izzy, thought the legend of Blackbeard was glamorous and romantic and it was unthinkable to any of them that Ed the man wanted out of Blackbeard the myth. The irony, of course, is that one of the very first things Ed ever said to Stede was that he didn't want to do this anymore, but Stede never understood that.

Stede left Mary and the kids for selfish reasons, and came back to them also for selfish reasons. Stede thought he was being selfless for leaving Ed, but really, it was just as selfish because he never considered what Ed really wanted.

#ofmd meta

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sanakoreanlangblr · 3 years

Text

2021 Goals

Heyy! I’ve decided to put my goals for this year here, hoping that that might motivate me further, and maybe motivate someone else as well. Good luck everyone! And please take extra care of yourselves and your health, mental or otherwise! Everything else can wait.

This year has been difficult for all of us. As for me, even now, the upcoming semester is a big question mark. Currently I’m studying in France, and this semester I was supposed to go on an exchange to Taiwan buuuut that’s not happening anymore, as it has been cancelled. So per my school’s requirements I need to find an internship in the place of expatriation, which is a pain now. And that basically just means I have no idea where I’m going to be in the coming year or what I’m gonna be doing ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Sorry, needed to complain for a bit, as I am going absolutely insane with the stress…

Anywayyyy, I still hope I will be able to uphold most of these goals, wherever I will end up. I tried to not make them overly big, so that I won’t get burned out too fast. But I have a whole year for those, some of these have dates for which I could expect to finish but I will not keep to them very strictly. Whatever happens, happens :))

Also, sorry if there are any mistakes, English is not my first language!

Korean (A2 -> B1)

1. Do 100 lessons of grammar from the HowToStudyKorean website.

I’ve started a few grammar books but in the end decided to settle on this website as I like its explanations best, and it provides the most example sentences when introducing each point. A nice touch is also the fact that it includes a list of a number of new words before each chapter, which gives me some new vocabulary to learn :)

So far I’ve divided the grammar points introduced in lessons into „to learn”, „to revise”, „already know”, and turns out I have:

66 „to learn”

35 „to revise”

32 „already know”

So if I did 3 points a week, I should be done around August.

2. Read 2 little stories per week from “Easy Korean Reading for Beginners”.

There is 30 stories in the first one (I already did 5), so I should be done by the middle of April.

3. Do one chapter per week from “My first hanja guide”.

I just got this book for Christmas and haven’t had the time to fully go through it so we will see how it goes.

4. Do Anki at least three times a week.

Every day would be preferable but I know that would last like a week at most.

5. Have iTalki lesson at least once a week.

That one is not a problem as I have been doing one or two per week for the last year, but I would just like to keep it up.

6. Try writing at least twice a month, and at least 2 pages.

Yeahhh that one is a bit of a bother, as writing still takes me a long time so we will leave it a twice a month and see how it goes.

7. Watch one youtube video per week on Korean grammar or vocabulary.

Generally I would say my goal is to use Korean more, as I know quite a lot but when I’m speaking I tend to go towards the easier words and grammar, which is why I am thinking that writing more could help me. And also I really want to focus on learning vocabulary as that’s always been a pain for me, I’m more of a grammar lover :))

French (A2 -> hoping for upper B1/ beginning of B2)

1. Finish the intermediate grammar book. I’m currently doing „Grammaire Progressive du Français” Intermediate edition, for A2/B1.

The problem is that my grammar knowledge of french is a mess , so going through this book is a bit of an annoyance, as most chapters I technically know but each time I find some nuance I wasn’t aware of... therefore I need to go through it, even the chapters I would have assumed I know :|

So I divided the chapters the same way I did Korean, into „to learn”, „to revise”, „already know”, and I ended up with:

14 „to learn”

34 „to revise”

4 „already know”

So technically if I did 2 points a week, I should be done in June.

2. Read the two french books I got for Christmas (“Les aventures d’Alice au pays des merveilles” and “Le tour du monde en quatre-vingts jours”).

3. Read at least two of the Harry Potter books in French.

I have started the first one this week, and I can tell it’s gonna be a very very slow process. It’s the first book I’m reading in french so it’s a bit difficult and frustrating but hopefully it’ll get better as I go along.

4. Watch at least 4 french movies, with french subtitles.

5. Learn a french song.

6. Read one story per week from „French Stories for Beginners”.

These are quite easy, but they are a nice practice for switching to books later on.

I don’t know if I’m gonna keep this one in, depends on how much my reading of actual books will progress.

7. Get to point 5 on the Duolingo tree.

I use Duolingo mostly as a revision tool, so I’m not really going to focus on it much, but still want to keep it up.

8. Watch one YouTube video per week (on any topic).

9. Listen to two podcasts per month.

10. At least one iTalki lesson per week.

11. Do Anki at least 3 times a week.

I really need to listen to french more, as I’m good at reading and I usually understand that pretty well, and I’m not the worst as speaking, but I am absolutely terrible at listening :| So that’s a priority.

Chinese (tbh I don’t know...end of HSK1/Beginning of HSK2 -> let’s say the goal is HSK3 for this year)

1. Finish the book „Integrated Chinese”

I’m having a tough time to pick a book from which to learn but I guess for now I’ll continue with that one.

Again, I divided the points in the book to „to learn”, „to revise”, „already know”, and ended up with:

47 „to learn”

11 „to revise”

15 „already know”

So doing 2 a week I should be done in July.

2. Learn 15 characters a day

I am way behind on learning characters.. I remember the words well but I didn’t put enough time to learn the characters at the start and now that’s gonna be a bit annoying to catch up on :|

3. Finish the drama „Go Ahead”.

4. Watch 3 Chinese movies, with both English and Chinese subtitles.

5. Have one Italki lesson per week.

6. Learn a children song in Chinese

7. Watch one youtube video per week on grammar.

8. Do Anki twice a week.

Generally focus more on characters. My speaking isn’t terrible (well besides the tones), but I need to work on the grammar a bit more as I seem to mess up the structures quite frequently. I need to put more work outside of my lessons. Since I found out I’m actually not going to Taiwan this semester my motivation has fallen a bit, but on the other hand I now have more time to prepare for fall, at which point I will hopefully be able to go!

Personal

Read 20 books.

I have always loved reading but in the past two years the amount of books I’ve read has gone down, which upsets me a bit… On the other hand the amount of fanfiction I’ve read is tremendous, so there’s that. However I would like to make more effort to read this year, especially since I’ve accumulated a huge pile of books over those few years.

2. Workout regularly.

Right now I’m at home, so that should be easy to do. I don’t really know what’s gonna happen this semester, so we’ll see what I’m going to do about that later.

3. Eat better.

Meaning: cut down on sugar, eat more veggies and fruit.

4. Get a bit closer to my ideal weight

I’m not necessarily focusing on that this year as the previous one has been hell and really managed to deteriorate my mental health back to high school levels... but still hopefully working out a bit and eating less sugar, more veggies, I will be able to lose a tiny bit of weight. But overall I just want to focus on being a bit healthier.

5. Clean out my wardrobe

Sorry that’s a silly one but I’ve been getting to it for half a year now and I’m just too lazy to do that... maybe once I put it here I will have some motivation

6. Take care of my face and hair

So my sensitive skin hates wearing masks and needs extra care these days I need to really focus on it and baby it, to not go back to the awful red mess it was two months ago

As for my hair, I have kind of 3a curls which I haven’t been taking care of properly and plus I damaged them with hair dye (still I refuse to give up ginger hair, I blame Merida). So now during lockdown and quarantine season I finally had some time to read up on hair care of curls, and honestly after a month I can already see the difference, and well I hope for the best :)))

7. Get a tattoo

It’s something I’ve always put off since I either didn’t have the money or time. And now again both are problematic, so I will wait for the decision until I know what my school semester is going to be like. Maybe this time I will find a good moment! (Although honestly saving up for travelling after all this is over is also a great idea :))) )

8. Don’t go to sleep at 5

Yeah so during lockdown and because of online classes my sleeping schedule got so messed up I don’t even know what to do about it anymore. And while my goal isn’t to switch it to 10 pm, cutting it to 2 am at max would be nice

9. Watch 25 movies

10. Sell/donate the things that I don’t need

I’ve accumulated a huge pile of books, movies, CDs, Xbox games, art products - that I need to get rid of - and I’ve been saying that for like three years now, about the same pile of things. I will try to do that one this year!

I hope everyone’s 2021 will be a ton better than 2020! Keep fighting!

46 notes · View notes

puckinghell · 4 years

Text

Let It Snow | William Nylander

Summary Request:

alternatively, our flights get cancel and we’re two strangers who rent the last available car together (it might be a little dangerous but we’re living on the edge)

and

we always carpool home for the holidays from college but a storm hit and now we’re taking the last room at the local b&b

and

we don’t know each other that well but i found out that you’ve never been sledding skating and feel like it’s my personal mission to change that

Words: 10k (I’m SORRY) Note: So, a few things: I wrote most of this when I was either drunk or sick, so excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes. Second of all, you guys wanted one long thing instead of parts, so here’s 10k of word vomit. Third of all, this is cliche central, and I’m not even sorry. And lastly, I know Will’s family doesn’t live in Calgary anymore but I very well couldn’t have them drive to Sweden.

---

“I hate snow.”

It’s meant to be mumbled under your breath, for nobody to hear but you; you didn’t even really mean to say it out loud, but it kinda slipped.

You really hate snow.

The guy that’s sitting opposite you looks up. So far, he’s been engulfed in his phone, but now there’s an interested look on his face as he takes you in.

“Why?” he asks.

As if that’s a totally normal thing to ask a complete stranger in the middle or a crowded airport.

You shoot him a dirty look, take a sip of your coffee before answering him, your voice deadpan. “Have you looked around you?”

The guy looks, as if he actually hadn’t noticed before that the airport around him has been getting busier and busier, the people there more annoyed and miserable looking by the second.

“Oh,” he says.

Yeah, oh.

You huff and return your attention to the announcement board again, hoping the message is going to magically change.

It doesn’t. Flight delayed, it says.

“Are you going to Calgary too?” the guy asks.

Now it’s not really his fault: he hasn’t personally caused a huge snow storm to hit Toronto and he’s probably just trying to be nice, but you’re already in a bad mood.

So you snap: “No, I’m just sitting here for shits and giggles.”

“Never mind,” the guy mutters, and his eyes fix on his phone again.

Great, now you feel like shit about that.

However, the universe needs to give you a break. This has literally been the worst week of your life and it’s only Thursday: the only thing that has pulled you through so far is knowing you’re going to see your dad, and now it’s looking like that might be going up in flames.

“Excuse me, may I please have your attention,” a voice sounds over the speaker at your gate, and you perk up in your seat. “We regret to inform you that, due to the upcoming snow storm, all air traffic in this area has been cancelled until further notice. Your flight will not depart today. For more information, you may contact the information desk.”

“Fuck.”

The guy opposite you raises an eyebrow. “If you don’t want people to start a conversation with you, you might want to stop talking to yourself.”

He stands up leisurely, as if the cancelled flight is no bother to him at all, and grabs his suitcase. He points to the board, where it now says Flight cancelled instead of Flight delayed – fucking fantastic – and motions at it, as if to say “what can you do”.

“How are you so chill about this?” It’s more that you’re wondering out loud than actually wanting an answer, but of course the guy grabs the opportunity.

“Well, it’s still four days to Christmas, and Calgary isn’t on another continent. It sucks that there won’t be any flights anytime soon, but you can’t change the weather.” He smiles. “I actually love snow, personally. And a little snow has never stopped me before. So I’m gonna rent a car and drive to Calgary.”

You stare at him. “Drive? To Calgary? That’s insane.”

“I mean, not as insane as spending Christmas away from my family,” the guy reasons, and….

He might have a point. You could stay here, and be miserable alone, or you could drive to Calgary and spend time with your dad like you planned. You could be enjoyed your dad’s pancakes, drinking hot chocolate by the fire place watching Elf, within a mere 40 hours, if you put the gas pedal down.

It’s, objectively, insane.

“I’m gonna rent a car too.”

“Great,” the guy says, jovially. “We can walk together then!”

And that was not really your plan, but to be fair, you don’t really know where you’re supposed to go to rent a car and this guy is walking as if he does this every day, so you dutifully follow him.

You take this time to look him over; he looks funny, in sweatpants with white sneakers – in the snow! - and a hoodie with a coat. He has a beanie on and there’s a few blond streaks of hair escaping from under it. He’s wearing thick black framed glasses. The suitcase he has with him has the Gucci logo on it, and you find yourself wondering if it’s real.

The guy is dressed like he’s either super rich but doesn’t care, or is slightly blind and got a 13 year old high school boy to pick out his clothing at a weird second hand shop.

“What’s your name?” the guy asks, and you frown.

“Why do you care? I wasn’t aware we were going to become best friends in the time it takes to walk to the rental car booth.”

“Nice to meet you,” he says, remaining completely unbothered as if you didn’t just snap at him. “I’m Will.” He glances over at you, seemingly amused. “It’s just a cancelled plane, you know. Not the end of the world.”

“It’s not just about the plane.” You almost tell him about the week you’ve had, but you decide it’s not worth the trouble. After all, you’re just going to rent a car and then you’re going your separate ways, and you’ll never see him again.

That’s the plan, at least. But it wouldn’t be this time in your life if your plan didn’t get ruined.

“I’m sorry, miss, that was the last car we have available,” the woman behind the computer says, right after she’s handed Will some keys. “Everyone is trying to get outta here by car, now that the planes aren’t going.”

You nearly, nearly, start to cry.

“What do you mean the last car? Surely you have a car somewhere,” you beg. “Any car. A bike. I don’t care. I have to get to Calgary for Christmas, you don’t understand…”

“I understand,” the lady interrupts, the friendly facade sliding off her face. “Unfortunately, I cannot help you. Have a good day.”

Have a good day?

“Look, lady…”

You’re about to yell at her some more when you feel someone tap your shoulder. Of course, it’s Will, beaming down at you with the keys to your last option in his hand.

“Yelling at her won’t work, you know. It’s not gonna make you feel better or stop you from being in a mood.”

Something inside you snaps.

“In a mood? You wanna know why I’m in such a mood, Will? I’m in a mood because this Monday, I got told my residency at the hospital I work at might not be available to me next year, because they’re cutting personnel at the department. On Tuesday, I ran my legs out of my body for 15 hours before they told me that I shouldn’t come back after Christmas. On Wednesday, my boyfriend of almost a year broke up with me because he’s looking for different things in life, whatever the fuck that means. And the only, only thing I was looking forward to was seeing my dad again, and now this stupid snow has ruined that for me as well. So excuse my mood, but I will yell at whoever I want to!”

Will blinks at you, then raises an eyebrow. “Feel better?”

Slowly, you exhale through your nose. You do, actually, feel better, and Will seems to know that because he’s grinning.

“If you’re done yelling, I was gonna ask you…” he trails, “do you want a lift?”

---

Arguably, this is a bad idea. You don’t even know this guy. He could be literally anyone.

“You could be a serial killer,” you tell him, putting on your seatbelt and sinking into the passenger’s seat. “You could drive me out of the city, murder me, dismember my corpse and leave me in the woods.”

“Hmm,” Will hums, as he starts the car. “I could, but that would massively delay my arrival time.”

You kick up your feet on the dash and play with the radio; the only songs you’re getting are Christmas songs, and that’s just not the right mood. Of course, as soon as you settle on some station that’s not playing Christmas music, Will frowns.

“Do you hate Christmas? Cause if you’re the Grinch, I’m gonna have to kick you out now.”

You look out the window; Toronto traffic is bad as always and you’re standing still barely out of the airport.

“I’m not the Grinch. I just don’t love Christmas.”

“How?” Will exclaims. “Christmas is the best holiday of the year!”

“I prefer Halloween,” you say, and Will rolls his eyes.

“And I’m the serial killer.”

“Christmas is overrated. I don’t care for trees in my house, creating a mess, Christmas movies are cheesy, Christmas songs are objectively bad and everyone is just stressed around Christmas time, trying to find gifts and decorate and wear stupid sweaters and go to parties with people they don’t like.”

You don’t tell him that you also don’t like Christmas because when your mom left, she said she would send you a Christmas gift.

As if that made it okay for a mother to leave her 12 year old daughter behind.

“Grinch,” Will mutters under his breath. You reach out and smack his arm, and he yelps in surprise. “Hey, don’t hit the driver, we could crash!”

“We’re literally standing still.”

“I could accidentally press the gas!”

“Then you’d be an idiot!”

You sigh and drop your head against the headrest, staring out of the window at all the headlights surrounding you.

It’s gonna be a long trip.

For the first few hours of the drive, it turns out the not be the worst. First, you and Will talk about your families a little: he’s got four siblings and his parents are still “very grossly in love” (his words) and you tell him that you’ve got just your dad and grandma left.

You don’t tell him what happened with your mom and he doesn’t ask, which is probably good judgement from his side.

Most of the time, however, you nap and Will drives or you drive and Will sleeps; you both decided that you want to get to Calgary as fast as you can, and not stopping is the way to do that.

It feels like it’s been days, but in reality you’ve only been driving for about 8 hours when Will stretches beside you and yawns.

“We should stop for gas,” he says, “and get me at least two liters of coffee to inject into my veins.”

“Probably a bad idea,” you deadpan. “That volume of liquid into your system would probably kill you instantly, and if it didn’t, the caffeine would give you a heart attack. Also, if you have to pee in an hour I’ll kill you.”

Will grins. “No good outcome possible for me, then, huh?” He points out the window. “Gas station.”

While you’re driving down the lane, he turns to look at you.

“You’re a nurse,” he says, and you frown.

“Yeah, I told you that.”

“I know, but like, you’re an actual nurse. I didn’t think about what that meant. But that’s really cool.”

You sigh. “Well, yeah, but if I don’t find another residency I’m gonna be half a nurse. And that won’t pay the bills.”

“You’ll find one,” Will says, easily enough, as if it’s a mere fact, and for the first time since you got the news, you feel some of the anxiety in your stomach settle.

It’s probably strange, that the fact that this guy, who you have only spent one day with, can tell you it’s gonna be fine and you believe it.

Maybe it’s because he seems truly genuine in his conviction. Maybe it’s because you’re just that desperate.

“Coffee?” Will asks, and you shake yourself out of your thoughts.

“I’ll go get it, you fill the tank,” you say, because you really want to stretch your legs. You spend your time wandering the little shop, getting two large coffees and also a few snacks for the road – what else is there to do in a car but eat and nap – and when you finally reemerge, Will is talking to someone next to the car.

“So awesome to meet you, dude, huge fan,” the man says. You watch as Will scribbles something on a napkin with a pen.

“Anytime. Sorry I don’t have paper.” Will smiles at the man politely as he hands him the napkin.

“No problem!” The man seems very excited about the napkin, and as he walks back to his car, he looks at Will again over his shoulder and waves. Will waves back, then turns to you and makes grabby hands for the coffee.

“Gimme!”

“What was that?” you frown, holding the coffee out of his reach. “Who was that?”

“A guy,” Will deadpans, “and a napkin. Coffee, please?”

You don’t hand it to him but he somehow manages to snatch it out of your hands; he’s faster than you’d think he’d be, and he’s back in the car before you can ask again.

Luckily, he’s stuck with you in this car for a while.

“That wasn’t just a guy,” you say, stubbornly. “He was really excited to see you. Does he know you?”

“I don’t know him,” Will answers, and that’s about the best deflecting you’ve ever heard.

“Not what I asked.”

Will sighs. “Fine,” he grumbles. “Do you watch hockey?”

“Hockey?” you repeat dumbfoundedly. “Like, where people skate after a piece of rubber? No, why?”

“But you know hockey is a pretty big deal in the city, yeah?”

You don’t know why Will is pressing the issue; you’re more interested to find out who the man is, but Will seems very intent on this line of conversation, so you decide to let him get away with it for now.

“Yeah, my boyf… ex boyfriend is a big Maple Leafs fan.”

Will snorts, but before you can ask what he means by that, he points to your phone, that’s laying in your lap.

“Google Maple Leafs number 88.”

“Why, is he hot?” you tease, but you do as he says.

William Nylander, your screen tells you, and beside it is a picture of Will.

“Kinda,” Will says blankly.

You look at Will, and then at your screen. Then back at Will. “That’s you,” you bring out, and Will chuckles.

“Well, yes. Does that explain enough to you?”

And it does. You might not watch hockey – you don’t really watch sports anyway – but you know from your ex how big a deal it is to some people, and you can imagine what it must be like to be a Leafs player living in Toronto.

You also remember your ex screaming at the television screen.

“Rough season so far, huh?” you say. “That why you wanna go to Calgary so badly?”

Will smiles, but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes. “Yeah, kinda. I mean, new coach, new opportunity, I’m excited, it’s just…” He pauses, seems to ponder his answer. It doesn’t sound like a rehearsed media answer, when he finally speaks. “I really need that new start, but I need a little break to empty my mind a bit, first. Put it into perspective, I guess. My dad is really good at helping with that, and so is my brother. Alex plays in the NHL too, and my dad used to. It’s… They know what it’s like, but they’re not on my team, so they offer more of an outside view.”

“You can tell me?” you offer. “I don’t know shit about hockey, so I’ve got an outside view.”

Will is laughing, then, and his eyes are twinkling and the car feels strangely small, suddenly.

“What do you do when you suck at your job for a while, and everyone loses their faith in you, and then you get better but nobody believes in you anymore?”

For the heaviness of the question, his tone is light, and he’s tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in beat with the music, as if he asked about your holiday plans.

You think of your mom.

“When I was little, I used to patch up my dolls with plasters and tell my mom I wanted to be a nurse. She said I couldn’t because I fainted at the sight of blood.” You shrug. “You just have to show them, I guess.”

Will nods slowly, then breaks into a smile. “Did you really faint at the sight of blood?”

“Shut up,” you chide, and the mood is lifted. It’s getting dark outside and you know you’ll have to start napping soon if you wanna take over driving in two hours, but for now you’re perfectly happy listening to Will’s chatter and the soft rumble of the engine in the background, as the car speeds down the highway, getting a little closer to Calgary with every passing minute.

---

Your eyes flutter open to darkness around you, and the car sitting in the parking lot of a gas station.

You turn just enough to see Will: he’s behind the wheel, eyes closed, his mouth slightly agape as his head hangs back.

The car is surrounded by snow: white flurries of it floating down to the ground, hitting the car.

For a second, you wonder why you’re not cold. Then you catch sight of Will’s coat, draped over your legs and stomach. You can’t help but smile at it, and then you close your eyes again.

The situation feels safely serene and safe, and you might as well take advantage of that and get some more sleep.

---

When you wake up, it’s to the sound of Christmas music coming from the speakers, Willy’s voice singing along.

“Not the time for Christmas carols,” you groan, and Will laughs.

“It’s always time for Christmas carols, Y/N,” he chides. You hear rustling, and you finally open your eyes.

“I stopped for a few hours,” Will says, “just to get some sleep. But we’re up and running again.”

Ah, that explains the scene you woke up yesterday. You glance at the clock: 7am. The sun is slowly starting to rise.

“It’s too early for you to be this happy,” you grumble. You haven’t had any coffee yet and that means you’re really not in the mood to have Will radiating energy around you.

“How are you not this happy?” Will asks. “Look outside!”

Outside is the road, but you understand what he means. Everything is covered by a thick layer of snow.

“It’s… white,” you say, because that’s about as far as you’re getting.

“It’s beautiful!” Will’s eyes are lit up with excitement.

“You’re insane,” you state, because that has been proven by this exchange.

“No I’m not! Snow is amazing. It’s beautiful, and it’s fun. Everything gets better in winter.”

You crank up the heat in the car and rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Everything does not get better in winter,” you frown. “First of all, it’s cold. Everything is slippery because of the frost, the snow turns to yellow mush within a few hours. You have to shovel the driveway.”

“Or you could build snowmen with it. You can go skating on the ponds. Have snowball fights.”

You snort. “Snowball fights? What are we, 12?”

Will’s eyes widen slightly. “You’re never too old for a good snowball fight.” His voice is fond as he continues. “I play in the snow with my younger siblings every winter when I’m home. That’s like, the best part of Christmas.”

And, well…

“I can kinda get that, in concept,” you say softly. “There was never really anyone to play with me, I guess.”

Will’s eyes are a little sad as he glances over at you, but he doesn’t say anything. You appreciate that: you’re not ready to share anything more and it’s like he senses that. Instead, he changes the subject.

“Hey, have you ever been skating?”

“Nope,” you say, and the grin Willy shoots you is a little wicked.

“We’re changing that today.”

---

What Will means, apparently, is that it’s a good idea when you’re halfway between Toronto and Calgary to stop in a small little town and find an ice rink.

“This is insane,” you protest. “We’re losing time!”

“We’ve got 48 hours til Christmas,” Will shrugs, “and only an 18 hour drive left. Come on, after this we’ll drive straight through. It’ll be fun.” His eyes are shining and you can literally feel the excitement buzzing off of him, and, well…

Skating did always seem like fun to you. When you were younger, you asked your dad to take you once, but renting skates costs money so it never happened. You remember the disappointment in your dad’s eyes as he had to tell you no, so you didn’t dare ask again.

“I’ll buy you hot chocolate after,” Will coaxes. You don’t understand why he wants to go that badly: he spends most of his days on the ice, anyway, surely he’d be happy for a break.

“Fine,” you grumble, and you can’t help but laugh at the smug look on Willy’s face as he pulls the car to the side of the road.

The rink is small and filled with people. There’s a lot of small children that are skating behind little chairs, and you can picture yourself being there too.

“I’m gonna be so much worse than them,” you whine, at the same moment one of the kids falls onto the ice. A woman helps the little girl up and she goes right back at it.

You don’t think you’re gonna be that brave.

“Oh, shush, I’m not gonna let you fall,” says Will, and you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

This whole situation is so freaking cliche, and you are not going to fall for it.

You rent skates for you and Will brings his own, because of course he brought skates in his suitcase. You’re struggling with the laces on the bench next to the rink, mostly to stall for some time; your heart is beating fast in your throat and your hands are a little clammy.

“Need some help with those?” Will is sitting sideways on the bench, and he’s grinning at you amused while you struggle. Feeling a little bold, you swing your leg into his lap.

You can tell he wasn’t expecting it because his eyes widen slightly, but then the grin only broadens and he starts carefully lacing up your skates. You watch as his fingers work the laces expertly – it’s clear that he’s done this a million times before – and then, his hand curls around your ankle.

“Other one,” he orders, and you switch legs.

Finally, the skates are on and Will hops to his feet, extending his hand and helping you to your feet. You’re already wobbling and you’re not even on this ice yet.

“If I break my leg, I can’t drive,” you say, mostly because the thought pops into your head.

Will rolls his eyes. “You’re not gonna break your leg.”

“If I hit my head and have a concussion, I can’t drive either.”

“Y/N.” Will’s voice is firm enough that you look up at him. He’s frowning. “You’re not gonna break anything, or hit anything, or fall. If you really don’t want to do this, we can leave now, but if there’s any part of you that agrees that this could be kinda fun, I promise you I’ve got you.” His eyes are a little shiny as he adds: “Trust me?”

And it’s stupid, you know it is, because you barely know Will. You’re pretty sure you’d have found out if he truly was a serial killer or any other type of psycho, but you can’t be sure he’s not irresponsible – although he did pull over in the snow – or prove that he’s trustworthy in any way.

And yet…

“I trust you,” you say then, and the blinding smile that crosses Will’s face is worth the fear in your heart when you place your first foot on the ice.

You can feel it slipping right away, but Will literally hops on the ice next to you, two feet planted firmly on the slippery surface, and places his hands on your hips, steadying your waist. In a reflex, your hands curls around his biceps, and once again you are reminded that holy shit, he’s a professional athlete.

“Wow, easy,” Will hums. He slowly guides you further away from the door, and your other foot adds to your first, and then you’re gliding.

You can’t call it skating: Will is moving backwards and pulling you with him, but you’re not necessarily moving on your own.

The first round goes like that, and then you decide to be brave and start moving your feet.

To be fair, Will keeps his promise. He never leaves your side, his hand firmly on your lower back even when you do start skating yourself, ready to catch you whenever you stumble – which is a lot.

“I’m doing it,” you yelp excitedly, when he finally lets his hand hover a little away from you. “I’m skating!”

Will laughs. “Proud of you, babe.”

And it’s probably just something he says; he probably calls a lot of people babe, it probably means nothing, and yet…

“Help,” you manage to squeak, and then your arms are waving in the air and your feet are slipping from under you and you try to maintain your balance, but you can pinpoint the second it’s a lost cause.

For a split second you’re plummeting towards the ice, but then two arms are wrapped around your waist and you just kinda… hang there.

“Thanks,” you say dryly. You’re hanging in Will’s arms as he’s hysterically cackling out laughter above you. It takes him a few seconds to compose himself and pull you up.

“Majestic,” he giggles, and he tightens his grip on your waist when you slap him in the chest.

“Rude,” you grumble, but you can’t help the smile that’s tugging at the edges of your lips.

It’s weird, but suddenly you notice how close he is, and when his eyes travel to your lips the smile falls from his face and you can tell he noticed too.

You stare at him, and it’s like the air is charged with something; your heart is beating in your throat and you swear he’s moving closer.

Oh, you think, we’re gonna kiss.

Strangely enough, the thought doesn’t send panic to your throat the way it did when your ex kissed you the first time, the way it always has when someone kissed you. Instead, it’s like everything inside of you goes calm and quiet.

You want him to kiss you. And it’s a little scary how not scary that is.

You’re interrupted by a small voice.

“Mister Nylander?”

Will startles, yank back fast enough that you nearly tumble straight back down to the ice, but one firm hand on your waist keeps you standing. He turns around then, to face the little girl that spoke: she can’t be more than five years old and is wearing a helmet with a cage, holding a hockey stick in her hands and staring at Will with wide, starstruck eyes.

He bends down into a squat – on skates, literally, how – and smiles at the girl.

“Hi, yes, that’s me. You can call me Willy, though. What’s your name?”

“Amanda,” the girl beams. “Can I get your autograph, mister Willy?”

“Sure, kiddo,” Willy says. “How about I bring my friend here to the safety of the ground and I shoot some pucks with you, huh?”

Amanda looks like someone just offered her the entire world and everything in it. “Please,” she says, and Will quickly guides you towards the side of the rink.

“I won’t be long,” he promises, and he almost looks apologetic, which…

Which is ridiculous. Because you can tell that him just being here made that little girl’s day, and you think of the things you wanted as a little girl and the heroes you never got to meet, and…

“Take all the time in the world, please,” you say. “I’ll go get myself that hot chocolate.”

For two hours you sit at the side watching Will with the kids. Somehow after Amanda more and more kids appeared and now he’s created somewhat of an impromptu hockey team because they’re all playing and the adults cleared the rink.

It’s entertaining, to watch Will with the kids. He’s a good teacher, and you can see them hitting the net more and more as time passes on, and he clearly makes it fun: they’re all laughing and screaming and at one point, a few of them tackle Will to the ice, where he rolls around and pretends to be unable to get up, yet hops to his feet the second the kids get distracted.

It’s insane, how comfortably he moves around. Like, you knew this, because he’s a professional hockey player, of course he can skate, but you didn’t really think anything of it until you see it in action. He’s obviously not even trying to do anything fancy, and he’s probably not trying to be fast either, but he is, and he stops without problem and turns in any direction and even jumps over a puck, at some point.

You can’t lie. It’s kinda hot. But then, you’ve always had a thing for people who were clearly good at something.

For example, your ex was a really good painter. He was also really good at being a lying, cheating bastard.

Before you can go too far down that rabbit hole, there’s commotion on the rink, someone crying and then Will’s voice, too loud: “What happened?”

When you look up he’s kneeling in front of a little boy, who’s crying and staring at his hand.

You jump up, worrying, but Will has already lifted to kid in his arms and is skating towards you now, with big strides.

“He took a skate to the hand, we’re gonna need some bandages,” he says, and a parent yells something about getting a first aid kit while Will puts the kid on his lap on the bench. “Can you look at him?” he asks you, worry evident in his voice even though he’s clearly trying to remain calm. He’s a little pale, but you don’t have time to deal with that right now.

“Hey, buddy,” you coo at the kid, kneeling in front of him, placing your hand on Will’s knee to steady yourself. “What’s your name?”

“Tim,” the kid cries. “My hand hurts!”

“I know it does, Tim. But the good news is that we can fix it,” you promise him, examining the hand. It doesn’t look too bad: there’s a cut, but not deep enough to perforate anything more than flesh, so you’re not too worried.

The first aid kit arrives and so does Timmy’s dad, who doesn’t seem too bothered. “He falls all the time,” he says, “that’s what hockey is, isn’t it?” He preens at Will, who dutifully ignores him in order to talk to Timmy in a low voice.

You wrap up Timmy’s hand and tell him to take it easy for a few days, and then before you know it you’re in the car and Will is holding the steering wheel so tight his knuckles are turning white.

“Do you want me to drive?” you ask tentatively. There’s no answer, but Will isn’t turning on the car. “He’s gonna be okay, you know.” Silence. Another try. “It’s not your fault.”

“I just can’t believe,” Will starts, but he seems to choke on the last word and lets the sentence die, drops his head and inhales sharply. It takes a while, but finally he speaks, a little more composed. “I hate when parents tell their kids that hockey is about pain and sacrifice. It can be, sometimes, but it shouldn’t be, not for a little kid. It should be about fun, and learning skill, and being with teammates, and loving it. It shouldn’t be about falling and injuries.”

He sounds so frustrated that it tugs at your heart strings, and for a split second you allow yourself to wonder what Will was told by his dad, when he was a kid himself.

“He wasn’t even trying to soothe him,” Willy bites. “He was too busy fawning over the presence of a professional hockey player, and I don’t… I don’t wanna be the person these idiots believe I am.”

“And you’re not,” you blurt out. “Will, these kids had so much fun with you.”

Will smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I just… Me and my brother, we always had fun skating. My dad told us it was important to always have fun. But I’ve seen it happen to friends. They were so passionate about hockey, but their parents pushed them, wanted them to be better too quick and told them to suck it up when the skates hurt their feet and it just fizzled out, you know? Until one day it wasn’t any fun and they quit.”

“It’s a shame,” you echo. “But your dad…?”

“He was hard on us, sure.” Will shrugs, smiles for real this time. “Pushed us to be better. But he always made it fun.” He turns to you. “Your dad… He stood behind your dreams?”

You remember you told him your mom didn’t think you could be a nurse, and you laugh. “The blood thing, you mean? Yeah, he didn’t agree with my mom. He always told me I could be whatever I wanted to be, and if I decided I wanted to be something else, I could be that, too. He’s always been there for me.” You shrug. “I’m lucky to have him. My mom… She left when I was 12. And I…”

You stop, for a second, wondering if you’re really gonna tell this to a complete stranger. But the thing is, Will doesn’t feel like a complete stranger anymore. Talking to him feels more comfortable than talking to most of your friends, and you can tell he really cares about what you’re saying, and you just, you want to tell him, so you do.

“I don’t like Christmas because my mom left right before Christmas, and she said: ‘I might not see you for a while, honey, but I’ll send you a Christmas gift.’ She didn’t, and I never saw her again.”

When you glance at Will, he’s frowning, a deep crease edged into his forehead. “That’s messed up.”

“Yeah, but, it was a long time ago. I’m mostly over it, I just never learned to love Christmas the way most kids do, I guess. My dad tried to make it fun for me, but it was always the reminder, you know, that I didn’t have a mom and other kids did.” You laugh, a little bitterly. “And then this year my ex-boyfriend dumped me on the 16th. My mom left me on the 17th. So I guess December is just not a good month for me.”

“Your ex is an asshole.” Will says it with such force, gritting his teeth, that you can’t help but reach over and put your hand on his knee.

“It’s okay,” you muse, and the tension leaves Will’s shoulders as he carefully wraps your hand in his.

His hand is warm and a little rough and there’s something hammering in your chest, and you wonder how it’s possible that you met him two days ago and he’s already making you feel more than your ex-boyfriend ever had.

You guess you never really liked that guy as much as you told yourself you did.

“It’s not,” he says, but he doesn’t so upset anymore. “And if he was here, I’d punch him in the face. But I’m glad to see you didn’t let him hurt you too much.” Will grins. “And now you’ve been skating, so, like, fuck him.”

“Fuck him,” you echo, and Will starts the car.

18 hours to go. And then you’re in Calgary, and you’re gonna see your dad, and you’ll probably never see Will again.

For some reason that thought leaves a sinking feeling in your chest.

---

“Psst.” You groan as someone softly tugs your arm. You try to turn around, but there’s something digging in your back and you can’t quite get there. The tugging gets more persistent. “Hey, Y/N.”

“What?” you grumble, finally forcing yourself to open your eyes, and it’s only when you see Will’s face in front of you that you realize you’re not in your bed. You’re in a car, it’s pitch dark outside, and you’re standing in front of a lit up building.

“Snow storm is getting really, really bad,” Will says. “We have to stop for the night. It’s not safe to keep driving.”

You’re about to tell him to stop being such a baby, and you’ll drive, no problem, when you risk a glance out the window and see… nothing.

Literally, almost nothing. Just a big building, and some lights that could be from streetlights or UFOs, for all you know, because there’s a big blanket of white covering your sight. Snowflakes are streaming down in a curtain, and you can hear the wind howl around the car.

Okay, yeah, maybe it is unsafe to drive.

“Where are we?”

“Hotel,” Will says. “I checked, only hotel within 10 minutes of the highway. Pray that they have a room for us.”

He leaves you in the seat to wake up a bit more, and goes to get your luggage; he swings your bag over his shoulder and hauls his suitcase out of the trunk, and finally opens your door.

“Come on.”

You grab his hand and let him pull you out of the car, although you walk in front of him to enter the hotel. The woman behind the desk looks up as you open the door.

“Please close that behind you,” she says, friendly enough, “I swear if that cold comes in I might freeze, here.”

“Hi,” you say to her, “I know, it’s bad, right? We were hoping you have two rooms available for us, so we can escape the storm?”

The woman types something on her computer, then frowns. “I’m sorry, it’s very busy at the moment. Lots of people stopping in from the highway. I have one room left, if you’d like? Double bed.”

Oh, fuck. You’re not sure if you’ve quite wrapped your head around in, when Will chimes in next to you.

“Cool, we’ll take it.”

“We…” you start protesting, but Will raises an eyebrow and looks at you with so much attitude that it shuts you up.

“Would you rather freeze to death in a car?” he asks pointedly. “I’ll take the couch or the floor, or whatever, chill. I promise I won’t murder you in your sleep.”

Getting murdered is not what you’re worried about, to be honest. You’re worried that sharing a hotel room with Will is just gonna make these feelings in the pit of your stomach worse.

But there’s not really another option.

“Fine. We’ll take it.”

“You know,” Will chirps, when you’ve got the keycard and he’s taking the luggage up the stairs, “there’s a lot of girls that would kill to be forced to share a room with me.”

“That’s because they’ve only looked at your face, and don’t know your personality,” you drawl, and you know you’ve made a mistake when Will’s face lights up.

“You think I’ve got a pretty face?”

“Not what I said,” you answer quickly; too quickly, because Will is looking way too smug as he takes the keycard out of your hand and opens the hotel room door.

The room itself is nothing special. It’s small, but the bed looks comfortable and it’s warm, so you’ll take it.

“Shotgun on the bathroom,” you say as soon as you get in, and Will rolls his eyes but dutifully flops on the bed and starts typing on his phone while you find your toothbrush and disappear to the bathroom.

When you walk out, Will is laying sprawled over the bed, although he’s luckily still on top of the duvets. His hoodie has ridden up a bit and his sweatpants are – dangerously – low on his hips, so there’s a strip of skin showing.

Your mouth goes funnily dry, all of a sudden.

The thing is. You might not have wanted to be stuck in a hotel room with a guy you met at the airport only 2 days prior, but if it had to happen, Will is not a bad guy to be stuck with. He’s, objectively, very hot – you’re not blind – and he’s funny, and easy to talk to, and he’s been nothing but nice, even when you were a teeny tiny bit rude to him at the airport.

Did you mention he’s very hot?

“I’m gonna shower,” he says, jumping up from the bed.

While he’s doing that, you lay in bed and scroll through Instagram on your phone. Maybe you stalk Will on Instagram, only for a little bit, and you find a picture of him with his siblings that’s so cute it has you smiling at your phone.

“What are you smiling at?” Will’s voice surprises you so much that you drop your phone on your face with a yelp, and the sound of his laughter rings in your ears as you bury your red hot face into the pillow.

You hadn’t even heard him open the bathroom door again. Luckily, you don’t think he saw, but you lock your phone just in case.

Then, you look up, and if you thought you couldn’t be any redder in the face, boy were you wrong.

Because Will is wearing boxers, and nothing else. Now, you think to yourself, as you glance at him before shamefully returning your gaze to your hands, if you had a body like that, maybe you’d be more keen on showing it off too, but…

“You’re gonna be cold,” you tell him, and you can hear, more than see, his eye roll as he says:

“Okay, mom.” Then, he opens the closet and takes another duvet out. “I’ll be fine, I have this.” He grins a little cheekily, as if he fully knows what he’s doing to you. “Normally I sleep naked, but…”

“But not today,” you squeak, and he’s laughing again.

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of letting him know that he’s getting to you, you throw the second pillow at his head and then roll to your side.

“Goodnight, Will.”

“Goodnight,” he answers softly. You listen as he potters around the room; probably tries to get his ‘bed’ for tonight as comfortable as possible. Finally, the lights click off.

You can’t sleep. You know it the second the lights are off, and Will’s breathing evens out. Your mind is going a million miles per hour and there’s so many things that happened, that you’re going to have to overthink before you can sleep. What’s not helping, either, is the fact that Will keeps tossing and turning.

You’re starting to feel a bit bad. You’re in a bed that’s big enough for two – maybe even three, it’s that big – and Will is laying on a cold, hard floor, with just one duvet and a pillow.

Outside, the wind is howling, and you know if you looked out the window the entire world would be covered in white. The room is warm enough, but you picture how there must be a draft, so close to the floor, and suddenly you can’t take it anymore.

It’s selfish, to make him sleep on the floor all because you’re worried about wanting things you can’t have.

“This is stupid,” you say, sitting up. “You should just sleep in the bed.”

For a second, it’s quiet. When Will speaks, he sounds unsure. “Are you sure? I mean, the floor isn’t great, but I don’t mind, I promise, if you’d rather not…”

“Look, we don’t have to, like, cuddle, or anything.” You can feel yourself blush but in the darkness of the room, there’s no way Will can see, so you keep talking. “You stay on your side, I’ll stay on my side, and it’s basically the same distance as having you on the floor. Just, the floor is cold, and uncomfortable, and there’s no need to…”

“Okay,” Will cuts you off, and he jumps up, duvet in hand. He’s grinning as he slides into the bed, curling the duvet around himself. “You don’t have to convince me, I was just being a gentleman.”

You snort. “Don’t do it again, it freaks me out.”

“You drive tomorrow, then,” Will hums, and it already feels better, to hear his voice right next to you instead of from somewhere at your feet. He sounds better, too; lighter, and more comfortable. “Hey, Y/N?”

“Hmm?” you answer, finally closing your eyes.

“If I had to cross the country in a Kia during a snow storm with anyone from that airport, I’m glad it’s you.”

You think of what you were thinking before, and smile.

“Me too, Willy, me too.”

It’s quiet again, and Will’s breathing starts evening out. For some reason, you still can’t calm down: you try to match your breathing to his, but it’s too shallow and you can feel your heart beating in your chest.

“You’re fidgeting,” Will says then, his voice loud in the quiet room. Only then do you notice that you have been twisting the duvet between your fingers time and time again. Will goes to lay on his stomach and turns his head to you. “You okay? I can sleep on the f…”

“It’s not you,” you interrupt him. It is, of course, but not in the way he thinks.

“Okay,” Will says slowly. “Then what?” Before you can answer he reaches out and slowly wraps his hand around yours, causing your fingers to dis-attach from the duvet.

And, the thing is…

You could tell him to mind his business. You could tell him a lie, or something that’s kinda true but not the real reason.

Tomorrow, you’ll be in Calgary. On your dad’s couch, drinking hot chocolate. And Will is gonna be in his own house. And then after Christmas, you’re both flying back to Toronto, but you’re not stupid. Will is a famous, and really attractive, athlete. You just got out of another failed relationship. You’re not good at relationships, turn out; you don’t even know if you really believe in love, anymore, don’t know if you even think it’s worth it to try.

But right now, you’re here, and he’s here, and you swear you’re not imagining the way he looks at you, sometimes.

You’ve had to deal with cancelled planes, problems at work, a dumb ex boyfriend, and this stupid everlasting snow, ruining your life one day at a time. So, you might as well give yourself this one thing that you want.

“Or, it is you,” you say, and you can feel Will stiffen beside you. “But it’s not that I don’t want you in this bed with me. In fact, it’s kinda the opposite.”

You can feel your cheeks flush: you’re not good at this, don’t really know what to say.

But then Willy grins and suddenly he rolls around, his body now hovering over you as he pushes himself up on his forearms.

“So does that mean I finally get to kiss you?” he hums, and you answer by pressing your lips against his.

---

Hours later, you’re both naked, a mess of tangled limbs in sheets, and Will’s chest is rising and falling with every peaceful breath. You close your eyes and bury your face in his neck.

Outside, it snows, and it snows, and it snows.

---

You wish you could enjoy the next 10 hours.

First, you spend 2 hours getting showered and ready – it would’ve been a lot shorter if Will hadn’t slipped in the shower with you, so it’s his fault if you’re late – and then you have breakfast at the hotel while Will tells you more about his family.

His face lights up when he tell you which Christmas gifts he’s got for his siblings and it’s adorable.

Then, you drive. The final 6 hour drive, and it flies by so fast you would’ve believed it if someone said it was just 2. You drive the first few hours and then Will takes over for the last part, and you chat the whole way there.

At some point, Will starts singing along to Christmas songs, and you don’t even change the channel.

“Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow,” Will croons; you can’t help but laugh and then you’re both laughing and singing along at the top of your lungs.

You wish it never had to end.

“So,” says Will, “this is your street, huh?”

You decided he would drop you off and take care of returning the rental car, and you’re almost regretting that decision cause you would’ve liked those 20 extra minutes with him. However, you know that that is, objectively, insane, so you ignore the knives that are being ran through your heart when Will parks the car on the curb.

“Home, at last,” he says, softly. He’s not smiling anymore. “So, when we get back to Toronto, we should…”

“Don’t,” you interrupt softly. “We both know this is where it ends for us.”

At this, Will frowns. “It doesn’t have to.”

“Yes, it does.” You swallow heavily, try to get rid of the lump in your throat. It doesn’t feel right but it is, and you need to let it end here before you end up with hopes that will crash and burn and expectations that will never be met.

“What if I don’t want it to?” he asks quietly.

As much as Will might believe he wants to see you again – and you don’t doubt that he’s being truthful about that - it’s just not realistic.

People don’t meet the love of their life in an airport after a cancelled flight, don’t live together forever after long a cross-country drive, don’t live happily ever after after a snowed in hotel.

People do leave their husbands and kids the week before Christmas, they do cheat on you, they do break your heart.

Snow might make things seem more magical, but after all, it’s just frozen water.

“But I want that.”

Will’s face falls, his eyes sad and honest, but he nods slowly. “Okay,” he says. “Thanks for the drive, then.”

His voice is distant, now, cold and impersonal: you know you deserve it but it hurts, anyway, and you scurry out of the car, take your suitcase out of the trunk.

You’re standing next to the car, ready to walk down the driveway, when the window opens.

Will’s head pops out, and he sends you what you think is meant to be a smile. It’s not a real one, and he still mostly just looks sad, but he’s trying, you think.

“I know December is a hard month for you, but I truly do hope it’s gonna get better. Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

The window closes and the car drives off, and something inside of you breaks.

“Merry Christmas, Will,” you whisper with tears in your eyes. You could’ve stood there for hours, but the front door opens.

“Y/N?” your dad’s voice calls. “I’m so glad you made it, you won’t believe the snow we’ve had…”

---

There’s a blanket on your lap as well as Snuggles – your dad’s cat – and you’re drinking tea while Elf plays on the television.

Your dad has been talking excitedly all through dinner, but now it’s quiet as he watches the movie. He seems happy, light, and it soothes something inside of you.

Sometimes you worry about him.

It’s not until the end credits roll that your dad turns to you. “Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asks tentatively, and that’s all that you need to hear in order to break into tears. “Oh, honey,” he sighs, then takes your hand in his. “What happened?”

You have no idea where to start.

“Dad,” you whisper, “do you think you can die from a broken heart?”

Your dad smiles sadly, shakes his head. “If you could, I would’ve been gone by now, probably,” he jokes, but it doesn’t land. “Is this about that boyfriend of yours?”

And, well, the funny thing is, you haven’t told your dad about the break up, but it doesn’t even matter. Your heart is broken and it has nothing to do with your ex.

So you tell him about Will. You tell him about how you almost weren’t here, tell him about cancelled planes and one lone rental car, about how he went from Will to William Nylander right back to Will, about coffee breaks and sleeping on the side of the road and skating and the little kid who hurt his hand, about snow storms and a hotel room with one bed – not about anything else from that night, though – and finally you tell him about goodbye.

When it’s all said and done, your dad frowns. “You keep saying it had to end. But honey, it sounds like you really like this guy.”

You do, oh God, you do.

“Why would it have to end?”

You don’t say anything, but as always, he knows exactly what you mean.

“Just because it ended for your mom and I doesn’t mean it always has to end, you know. Sometimes it’s worth to try.” He pats your hand. “I think you should call him.”

And that’s when it hits you. It doesn’t really matter if you’d wanna call him.

You don’t even have his phone number.

---

“Y/N! Patient in room 11!” your colleague yells. “I’m going to the kid in room 4 if you need me!”

You sigh and throw down your clipboard. You have no idea why the hospital is so busy; it’s December 28th, which promises a disaster on New Years Eve, which is usually your busiest day of the year.

Fireworks, man.

You’ve been on your feet for 9 hours but you don’t even really mind. Just the thrill of working in a new hospital has been keeping you going; it might have something to do with the fact that this hospital will let you finish your residency, too. They called you the day after Christmas.

Some might call it somewhat of a Christmas miracle.

“I’m on it,” you call back, then start making your way to room 11. You nearly bump into the doctor you’re working with today, and she halts you by putting a hand on your arm.

“Are you a Leafs fan?” she asks.

It might be the weirdest thing someone has randomly asked you; the conversations you have had with this woman have ranged from “can you get me some blood from the vomiting boy” and “in what room do I find the catheters” and now she’s asking you about your sports teams?

Your heart clenches tightly as you think of Will.

“Not really,” you answers. That seems to be the right answer because the doctor smiles and waves towards the room, telling you to enter. You’re still confused by the whole exchange when you walk into the room and nearly trip over your own feet.

“Oh,” Will says slowly, “that’s quite a coincidence.”

It’s like your tongue has grown two sizes; you can’t speak, can’t even begin to think of what words to say, when suddenly you notice something.

“What the hell happened to you?”

There’s blood all over the hand he’s clutching to his chest, and his face is white as a ghost. Next to him is an equally pale guy wearing a Leafs sweater, who is staring at you with wide eyes.

“Uhm, I fell,” Will says sheepishly. “Turns out snow is quite slippery.”

It hasn’t snowed in Toronto in days.

“He didn’t fall in the snow,” the guy next to him grumbles. “I tried to wrestle the remote out of his hand and he fell into the Christmas tree and sliced his hand open with an ornament.”

“And Kappy has just promised to clean everything up, right, Kap?” Will asks with a sly smirk. Some of the color is returning to his face, which is more than you can say for his friend Kappy.

“Okay, well, let me have a look,” you mutter, and you gather some of your supplies before sitting next to the bed.

If you try very hard to avoid Will’s eyes and focus completely on the gash on his hand, that’s between you and the hospital room.

“So, first aid, huh?” Will asks. “Found a new job? Told you.” He sounds stupidly smug, so you raise your eyebrow and press the gauze to the wound. He inhales sharply. “That’s mean.”

“I’m trying to clean it,” you tell him sternly. “Sit still. God, Timmy was a better patient.”

“Hey,” Will protests, offended. “I’m a perfect patient.”

When you see how deep the wound is, you wonder how it’s possible that Will is still so chatty, and you also feel a little nauseous; it’s always different when it’s someone you care about.

“I’m gonna go get doctor Summers,” you say, and your voice is a little unsteady.

You’re probably imagining the edge of disappointment to Will’s voice when he says: “Yeah, okay.”

While doctor Summers examines Will’s hand, his eyes are fixed on you, and you keep yours fixed on your shoes. There’s so much you want to say to him, so much you want to do, but this is not the time or the place and also you have no idea how to start a conversation like that.

You tune back into the here and now when you hear the word “surgery.”

“It’s not a real surgery,” doctor Summers says, “I just think we need to set a bone and we also need to stitch up the muscles.”

Will is a little pale again as he nods.

You get send away to prepare the necessities for the procedure and when you come back, Will’s friend is gone.

“He’s gonna pick me up when I’m done,” says Will, who sees you looking. “Are you gonna… Are you gonna be here, while she does it?”

“Nope,” you answer, and this time you’re definitely not imagining the way his face falls. “Are you gonna get in trouble with the team for this?”

Will pulls a face. “I’ll probably get a stern talking to from Kyle.” When he sees your expression, he laughs. “My boss.” He sighs, looks out the window.

It’s started snowing, again, because apparently the universe loves taunting you.

“You know what the worst thing is? I ruined my tree.”

“That’s definitely not the worst part,” you roll your eyes. “It’s after Christmas, you should’ve probably taken it down anyway.”

“I couldn’t take it down yet,” says Will, his face completely serious, “there’s still one Christmas miracle I’m waiting for.”

He’s staring at you intently and you can feel your heart beating in your throat.

There’s no way he means…

But what if there is?

You make a decision then, and when Will is getting his hand worked on in a different room you run to the cafeteria.

“Hey,” you yell at the lady behind the counter. “I’m gonna borrow this for a second!”

She looks at you like you’re a crazy person and you can’t blame her: you’re literally standing in your scrubs, screaming at her from the middle of the cafeteria after having just yanked a tiny Christmas tree from the table.

“Okay?” she yells back, and it sounds more like a question than a blessing, but you take it and run anyway.

Room 11 is still empty; although Will’s coat is still lying on the bed, so he must be coming back. You take the tiny tree and put it on the bed side table, plug it in.

There’s only about 10 lights in the tree, but when you flick off the big lights, it still looks pretty Christmassy.

And so, you wait.

To say you’re nervous would be an understatement; there’s every possibility in the world that Will has changed his mind since you last saw each other, and the last thing he wants is you confessing how much you like him in a hospital room after just having destroyed his hand, but you have to try.

Every time you think about bailing, you hear your dad’s voice in your head.

Sometimes it’s worth it to try.

This is one of those times.

“No strenuous activities, take it easy…” Finally you hear doctor Summers voice and you stand up.

The door opens tauntingly slowly, and there is Will. At first, his eyes widen as they catch the Christmas tree, and then his head swivels around and he sees you; a slow smile spreads across his face.

“A Christmas tree?” he asks.

“Well,” you smile, “you did say you wanted a Christmas miracle…”

“But you don’t like Christmas,” Will points out.

And that’s true, but…

You take a step closer and Will raises an eyebrow, questioning but not looking like he wants to run away.

“I don’t,” you admit. “I didn’t. But then something happened… Or, well, someone happened. And now I’m thinking that I might have to give Christmas a chance.” You’re standing right in front of Will, now, and he had all the time in the world to back off but he didn’t. Instead, he’s looking at you with an amused expression on his face, the corners of his mouth curled into a tentative smile.

“I think there might be a few things I have to give a chance,” you finish.

“God,” Will breathes. “I really hope you mean us.”

Instead of answering, you kiss him.

It feels somewhat familiar and yet as if you’ve never been kissed before: there’s fireworks in your stomach and everything feels warm and fuzzy, like nothing matters except for the feeling of Will’s lips on your lips, his chest pressed against yours.

“Y/N!” someone yells from the hallway, and you reluctantly pull away.

“I have to get back to work…”

“Okay,” Will whispers, pecks you cheek quickly. “But we’ll talk…”

“I’m done with work in an hour,” you interrupt.

Will nods. “I’ll tell Kappy he doesn’t have to pick me up.” He grins. “Unless you’d rather not drive in the snow?”

“Shut up,” you tell him, but it’s with nothing but fondness.

You’re already running to the hallway, ready to see the next patient, when you hear Will yell after you: “You said you hate snow!”

And that’s kinda true, but…

Sometimes, even if it messes up your plane, or gets you stuck in a snowstorm, or makes you fall on your ass…

You just have to let it snow.

#william nylander #toronto maple leafs #winter prompts #william nylander imagine #william nylander one shot #nhl fic #nhl imagine

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winterironspiderling · 4 years

Note

Sorry if you’ve answered something like this before but, do you have any tips of writing slow burn, and just writing in general? Lol thank you and love your work!

No worries! I’m always down to talk about writing. Thank you for your kind words. :)

To write a slow burn, you will want to start with the main pairing as strangers, acquaintances, or even enemies. You could also start them as friends, but if you begin with the two having a close relationship already, it would be hard to draw that out because friends to lovers basically only adds kissing and physical intimacy, but if you start from the very beginning/first meeting you have more time to develop the relationship, which will take more words, and make the burn slower.

No matter what level of relationship you start the pairing at, there has to be a reason why they can’t be together yet because if you start with no obstacle, it will be hard to justify why they aren’t together. Obstacles could be the characters are in other relationships, one or both might have just gotten out of a bad/abusive relationship, they’re in a bad place mentally/physically, and distance or other characters are keeping them apart. This also gives you something to overcome not just in the relationship, but for the individual characters and their journey, and it adds depth to the plot. And the richer the plot, the more you can draw it out and slow down the burn!

To make the slow burn enjoyable instead of annoying or frustrating, try not to make overcoming the relationship obstacles or individual challenges “too easy” for the characters. They should have near misses and setbacks, or it won’t feel satisfying or intriguing when they finally get together, or oppositely, if it’s too hard and drawn out, and there’s one shitty event after the other, it will feel like okay!!! enough already!!! So try to space out good and bad events and keep it balanced. :)

Know when to time skip and when to accept that you just need to write an entire scene. Time skipping can rush character development and make the ending feel unearned, but writing every detail of the characters’ lives can get boring to read. When you need some exposition or world building and not just fun plot or explicit scenes try to use the seemingly mundane interactions to your advantage to further the plot, introduce characters, build character(s), build relationships, foreshadow, or make fun references to canon.

For an example of all of the above points, in my story Disorder, Tony and Peter have their first meeting, and what’s holding them back from being together is Peter’s age and his poor mental health and self-image. He has a lot of good moments and bad moments, and doesn’t just lose weight and gain confidence over night. I take Tony and Peter throughout a working relationship, then a friendship, and then the buildup of an intimate relationship, and when I’m not outlining every personal training session between the two, I’m building their relationships and friendships with other people and giving both of them a chance to interact in other spaces besides the gym. So Peter will be at school with Ned and MJ showing his sense of humour, interacting with Flash, and maybe mentioning the upcoming Decathlon ten chapters later, so that when I bring it up later, it doesn’t come out of nowhere. Then I might skip a week to the next lesson with Tony because if you’re reading a Starker story, obviously you want most of the interactions to be Tony/Peter. :)

Adding in more people than the main pairing makes for a well-rounded story because other characters exist and help make the main pairing who they are. (For Peter, I like Ned, MJ, May, Flash, and Mr. Delmar, and for Tony, I like Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, Jarvis, and Nebula. Bucky is just a necessity for every story, also. ;) ) Making the side characters funny or interesting, or inserting running jokes about them will make the parts with those people more enjoyable to read, even if the pairing isn’t featured.

Short chapter length or transitional chapters are necessary, but can be tedious because you don’t want to have an info dump, but you don’t want to go through the pain of writing an entire interaction and scene just for the sake of increasing word count, so accepting that not every chapter is going to be the Best Chapter is important. If you need to get information across about the backstory, or exposition, you can have it expressed through dialogue, or do a little bit of info dumping at a time and try to weave it into other things, so it’s not huge chunks of info that can be boring or confusing.

Add a little bit of your own personality to the writing too. I’m not really a poetic writer, and I prefer to write snappy dialogue and let character dynamics do the work, but some people can talk about the flowering trees and the winding roads of the countryside. I don’t know anything about that lol, so when I try to write it, I feel silly and then the scene suffers because I’m not saying anything I actually care about. So write the style that feels most natural to you and it won’t be boring because you’ll be able to feel your energy in the story, and writers are what bring a lot of the emotion to the fan fiction. Every reader likes something different, so write for your own tastes and the people who like your style will stick around.

There’s a time and place for surprises or complications, but the type that you put into the story should be consistent with the expectations you and the readers have—whether you’ve stated these by your tags or the plot summary. Example, a coffee shop AU doesn’t turn into a sex worker AU, or soft, domestic Tony doesn’t turn into a dark stalker. Those are valid occurrences, but they’re so different that it’s not a fun twist for readers…it’s legitimately not what they signed up for. A surprise in Disorder that works is when you find out Tony’s own personal struggles during his POV with Rhodey. It adds depth to his character and another layer to his dynamic with Peter, but it isn’t shocking or contrary to what I’ve already written.

For most of Disorder, Tony and Peter each don’t think the other would be interested, or if they were, “not right now” or “not because of the age difference” etc... and I kept having them almost connect/admit it, but then I’d hold back. Knowing when and how I wanted them to get together from the very beginning helped with the slow burn as well because I had to think of how to get them from point A to B. I knew I wanted Peter to be at good place mentally, but not perfect, and I wanted May to be more accepting of the relationship, so it became a game of filling in the blanks instead of just starting a story with no end in sight, and then it feels difficult to give it direction.

Creating outlines and templates for a story helps me. Like a table that outlines which characters are featured in a chapter, and any major plot points, and just general info.This way when you go to write future chapters or edit, you don’t have to reread everything, and when it’s all laid out in front of you, it can be easier to be like, “Oh, this just happened in Chapter 1, so I don’t want another crazy event to happen in Chapter 5 because I want the energy of the story to be evenly spaced.”

Edit not just for grammar but for subtle mistakes like repeating a lot of the same phrases and words. I tend to overuse “just” and start a lot of sentences with, “well”, so I have to be careful of that. Also for continuity like if Peter is sitting down in one paragraph, and then you say he sat down in the next paragraph even though he’s already sitting...

Decide how you want your story to be regarding realism, whether it’s in the context of an AU or a canon-compliant story. Maybe you don’t care about being realistic to our universe, and maybe you want to write something completely off the wall. There should be some sort of structure and consistency with the characters so that the reader feels stable and like they can trust where you’re going. Even if you want to write a master/slave AU where Tony keeps Peter on a leash, or something like a body swap, there’s still things that you can do to keep it realistic in the context of that story. Like if Tony was portrayed as a very loyal and possessive master, he’s not going to be sharing Peter with someone later in the story, unless you’ve decided that him getting over that is necessary to the plot, and sufficient character building shows him slowly becoming more open. Or in a body swap, if Peter and Tony switch, they’re not going to immediately go and put each other at risk or use their bodies to betray one another.

So I don’t know what you’re writing, but no matter what, try creating mystery by leaving things unsaid/undiscovered, or raising questions within the plot for readers to find out later. You don’t have to give up everything right away! (I know it’s hard not to spill the beans, but it lets people figure things out on their own or wonder if you’ll mention it again.) (Make sure you remember if you’re doing this so you don’t accidentally create a plot hole.) An example of this in Disorder is raising the topic of will Peter go to college, or not. Eventually he decides. Another is why Tony doesn’t like to give cards in his gifts, and then eventually he gives one to Peter, and it makes it really special. <3

I hope this helps!

#ask #writing advice #disorder

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bunny-doyounq · 4 years

Text

Happy (belated) birthday to my bunny boy. Another year with you and again, I am wishing you the best for this year + of course the rest of the years. Thank you for being you and I love you so much. Your voice and laughter are a few of my favorite sounds because I get filled with joy and my love for you grows. You are so contagious in a way thag I am always laughing or smiling with the things that come out of that mouth of yours and your actions.

I am getting wayyyy to sappy for this mans, so I’mma end it here by saying that I am proud of you and I can’t wait to get more content of you with the upcoming comeback. Rest well, take care of yourself, and continue to being yourself. 💞

Enjoy and I barely edited it so sorry for any mistakes in grammar or that it’s slightly rushed at the end. I just wanted to put this out ☺️.

genre: extremelyyyyy fluffy ; dad!doyoung

synopsis: it’s Doyoung’s birthday and you and your daughter wanted to surprise him with a cake.

----

Giggles and whispers were heard in the kitchen when Doyoung entered the apartment. He smiled as he peeled off his shoes and hung up his coat on the rack before making his way to the source of his happiness.

In his line of vision was you wrapping your arm around your four year old daughter, holding her hands to using a hand baking mixer. Your daughter was squealing at how mean you were being, using her as a shield to protect from the flour flying out. Doyoung’s knuckles tapped the frame, catching both of your guys’ attention.

Your daughter’s eyes widen before whispering to you, “mommy, daddy’s home.” You hushed her and lifted her off the stool, placing her down. Patting her behind, you tell her to go say hi to him.

Doyoung squatted down to her height, opening his arms out, grinning. “Come here, baby girl.” The little girl sprinted to her father, welcoming him home and wrapped her small arms around him, and he hugged her back tightly, pecking the top of her head. He picked her up, grunting slightly before looking towards you. “Are you going to welcome me home too?”

You rolled your eyes with a grin and made your way towards him before giving a quick kiss with a small ‘ew’ from your daughter. You both chuckled at your daughter and shared a mischievous look before you started to tickle your daughter, igniting giggles from her. Doyoung began to give your little one random smooches, as she tried to fend for herself against you and now Doyoung.

After you three calmed down from playing around, Doyoung motioned towards the baking materials asking what was happening before he walked in. “Mommy and I were baking.” your daughter responded, trying to get away from his grip to run back to the stool. You wrapped an arm around his waist and leaned into his figure. “We just decided to bake.” Doyoung being Doyoung, he would never question anything the two of you do because you two were the dynamic mother-daughter duo. He told you that he’s going to wash up and head to bed early, skipping dinner because he has to get up at 3am for a schedule. Nodding, you gave him a peck on the cheek before resuming to bake with your daughter. Doyoung lingered a bit, smiling at the interactions between you two and quickly walked to the bathroom to wash up.

You sighed with relief and poked your daughter’s stomach. “That was a close one, honey.”

“uh-huh!” your daughter nodded, handing you the finished mixed bowl.

----

You quietly slipped out of bed, and went to your daughter’s room down the hall. Your lips curved up slightly as you watched her sleeping and at first, you didn’t have the heart to wake her up, but it was necessary for the mission.

Gently shaking her awake, you cooed her to not make any sounds and carried her to the kitchen. You got the cake and lighter and ushered your daughter to follow you to the room. She held onto your shirt as you guys arrived infront of the door. You lit the candles up and whispered her to go wake up her daddy. She saluted you before running into the room, screaming at Doyoung to wake up. You could hear him jolt up, worriedly asking your daughter what happened and where you were. Kicking the door slightly to the side with your foot, you started to sing happy birthday and your daughter joined in, bouncing in Doyoung’s lap. Doyoung started to tear up and smiled widely, clapping with your daughter.

The song finally ended and the cake is now infront of Doyoung. Your daughter tells him to close his eyes and make a wish and he complies. Once he finished making his wish and opened his eyes, he propped your guys’ daughter better on his knee. “Will you help me blow out the candles, princess?” She excitedly agreed and the three of you counted to three and Doyoung and your daughter blew out the flames.

You shuffled towards the night stand to turn on the lamp before sitting down next to Doyoung and your daughter. “Happy birthday, my love.” Doyoung’s gummy smile made his eyes crinkle up and tears leaked out on the side. He wrapped his free arm around you, giving you a kiss on your temple and did the same to your daughter. “I love you both so much.” Your daughter leaned into Doyoung’s chest, telling him she loves him too.

You three sat embraced for a few minutes, before your daughter chimed up. “Can we eat the cake now!?” Doyoung laughed and dipped his pointer finger into the frosting before swiping it across her cheek, causing her to yelp out. She bent over to do the same and kept telling Doyoung to lower his head down because she couldn’t reach his cheeks. He would move his head everywhere but down, so your daughter ended up standing up on his lap and painted his right cheek with frosting.

You bursted out laughing at how ridiculous they looked before being attacked by your daughter and Doyoung with their frosted coated finger. Then, Doyoung took a picture of you three with frosting on your guys’ cheeks and sent it to the NCT group chat.

You cleaned up the cake and once after everyone is free from frosting, your daughter asked if she could sleep with the two of you which you both complied too. The family of three snuggled under the covers and Doyoung began to tell your daughter a story about Uncle Haechan and Uncle Johnny doing something at the practice room. And after a while, one by one, you all drifted to sleep, with hearts full of love and stomachs full of cake.

#doyoung #doyoung x reader #doyoung imagines #doyoung scenarios #HappyDoyoungDay #doyoung fics #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct doyoung imagines #nct doyoung scenarios #nct doyoung fics

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alchemist-shizun · 5 years

Text

To tend thee is my care

ACT I

ACT II - Read on Ao3!

See the awesome fanart!

Word count: 13,679

Taglist: @lesbianturtle @len-art-trash @i-need-you-buddy @jeevashun @quietlypondering @creativity-killed-thekitten @bookwyrminspiration @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing @softanxiouspatton @be-more-chaotic @pheonix-inside-reblogs @www-dot-ohshit-dot-com @datfearlessfangirl @alltimevirgilant @royalnerd829 @just-fic-me-up @theblankest123 @theotherella @thesleepyraziel @gaylotusthatexists @sendingcookiesfromhell @mijako98 @logicalberry @maybe-i-like-the-misery @orderly-opaline @purpledemond

(Please tell me if you want to be added too for Act II!)

Characters: Virgil, Nonbinary!Roman

Summary: You’ve heard of enemies to lovers now get ready for acquaintances to friends to now we’re fighting because I’m scared of your rejection so I’m pretending it’s your fault when it clearly is mine to friends again, even though you’re an idiot, but I still love you to lovers.

Roman and Virgil are both part of the theater group of their school, Roman is one of the actors, while Virgil is the head of the stage design group. Despite being in the same year and having lessons in the same building, they hadn’t really ever talked to each other, but everything was about to change when the teachers, heads of the whole theater group, announced that they were going to challenge themselves by presenting one of Euipides’ last plays: The Bacchantes. Follow our two main characters helping each other out as one is forced to learn how to act in a matter of months and the other goes through a journey of self-discovery as he studies his role.

Pairing(s): Prinxiety (I’m unpredictable)

Warning(s): Mild swearing, Death mention (mostly when talking about the tragedy), Blood mention (once), Negative thinking, Implied toxic parenting (once), [Me projecting heavily onto Virgil (also Ro at some point)]

A/n: I’ve been writing this for months and I can’t explain how proud I am to show you guys this! Before you start reading, I want to inform you that the school system I write about here is not the American one since I know little to nothing about it. Instead I’ll be using the one of my country for reasons of simplicity. (All names I use here are invented, so you can place the events wherever you’d like.) I thought about doing a long for this plot but I chose to write a one shot instead, since it’s pretty long I decided to divide it into two acts, the second one is coming very soon. I studied and read the whole play translated in my original language, that’s where the inspiration for my au came from. All the English translations I used for the play are from here, here and here. The song mentioned is So Contagious by Acceptance. That being said, hope you enjoy!

✾✾✾✾

What now?

It was during an October’s Tuesday that Virgil had started panicking due to school stress.

It wasn’t like his teachers hadn’t been pressuring his class ever since they entered their first fifth year lesson: partly because of the final exams, the rest of the time they asked about their university choices.

This year’s archaeological excavation, an experience reserved only to the students of his course, was also placed exactly in those three weeks of October were the theater group had started.

Tuesday in October for Virgil meant lessons until half past midday, research for the upcoming excavation exhibition until two p.m., theater club for an hour, then back to doing research with one of his teachers and half of his classmates until 17:00.

In all honesty, he wouldn’t have minded being buried alive when they’d have to cover back up the site.

Virgil had tried convincing himself that it wasn’t really that hard, besides the club had just started and the first few days were mostly focused on helping the first years settle, be comfortable with the teachers and also test out their abilities. And this one was only the second meeting.

But, of course, his day had to get worse. Life was trying him, and boy, did he hate sudden drastic changes.

It was when he noticed all the odd attention he was getting by the teachers that he realized something was definitely going to go wrong.

Everyone took a seat on the wooden bleachers of the old gym, they were basically attached to the pavement and the obnoxious yellow-painted walls of the large room. A quick glance around and you had the feeling that everything was going to collapse at any moment.

Virgil saw some familiar faces, some new ones, but he definitely couldn’t forget about the regulars: his beloved stage deseign group, which were a bunch of students that the teacher trusted him enough to take care of and teach them what they had to do during shows and how to prepare the stage. And next to them some actors from the last three years, Dave, Bonnie, Lukas and Roman.

He and Roman were the only ones brave enough to stick around even during the toughest year of that hellhole, so everyone silently respected them. And just as much as Virgil helped the newcomers in his group, Roman was happy to lend a hand in acting along side the most talented fourth and third years above mentioned.

« Well hello and welcome back here, guys! » Mrs. Michaelis had started, clasping her hands together, she was an English grammar and literature teacher.

After making sure everybody had arrived, they explained that since the week after they were going to see the first years’ “auditions” as they liked to call them, but they were really simply methods to check how promising someone could be at acting.

« I know this may sound shocking, we still can’t believe it- »

« Mostly because normally it takes us a couple of months before choosing a script. » Mrs. Eagan, an ancient Greek and Latin teacher, had interrupted, causing multiple chuckles from the students.

« … As I was saying, yes. We already know the play that we’ll be covering this year, we also have scripts ready for almost everybody. But there’s some news! »

« This year we decided to sign up our group and participate to some kind of challenge! » murmurs began to fill the room, as uneasiness set in Virgil’s stomach. Why make things harder for everybody? Wasn’t it just as good doing a simple show one night and one morning?

« Some, let’s say, “judges” are going to attend our play and afterwards, if they’re satisfied enough, they will let us take our production to the biggest local theater! »

The murmurs transformed into gasps, that theater was placed in the city of their province, getting an invitation was a huge challenge.

« And our play is going to be … » Mrs. Eagan’s eyes met Virgil’s and fixated on them. That’s when he began overthinking. Why was she looking directly at him? That never meant good news. « … Euripides’ tragedy, The Bacchantes. »

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Only his eyes widened among the confused looks of most of the students. He had studied that play, along side many other ones, in his fourth year. He did truly love them, but damn him if they weren’t already a challenge to portray.

« That’s right Virgil, you know it. » why was also the English teacher giving him his attention? What were they planning, did he have to explain the play to everybody?

All the students turned to face him, some quietly asking what was the plot, some fourth years of his same course demanded to know if it was a difficult topic.

« Easy now, everybody, he’s already been tested last year by Mr. Richardson. » one of the teachers interrupted, walking closer to the spot where Virgil sat, for some reason he had found himself next to the “talented actors group”.

They explained the plot for everybody after that.

« We know it might be real tough, so this year we already agreed on the roles beforehand. Don’t worry, if you didn’t get your time to shine this year, in the next ones you totally will. »

Wait, he wasn’t part of the actors group, why did this have anything to do with him? Why were they still staring at him?

To his relief, the teachers addressed the newcomers first. « We were thinking about giving the role of the chorus to the first and second years, they have long bits, but we can split them instead of making you all recite them, so that you don’t feel too burdened and the role becomes easy for all of you. »

« The roles of the messengers will be given to our third years, messengers are used to explain everything that happens that does not happen on scene. One of the rules for tragedies was that the scene had to take place in the same time and place. Also, they didn’t show blood and/or murders/suicides on scene. They were all narrated. »

« As for our three fourth years. » they looked over Virgil’s shoulder to Dave, Lukas and Bonnie. « Your roles will be Cadmus, Tiresias and Agave. They play a very important part in the whole story, we trust you’ll do a great job. »

« As for our main characters, Pentheus and Dionysus … » they set their eyes on Roman, who looked more expectant than ever.

But then they also shifted their glances to Virgil.

« We were thinking our only fifth years could have their roles as a good way of saying goodbye to them, since this will be their last play. » everybody else was nodding in agreement, Roman was beaming but slightly confused. Wasn’t Virgil part of the stage design group?

In fact, our little emo kid could only look back in disbelief.

« Roman, Virgil, would you like to become a king and a god, respectively? »

What now?

As the beloved actor was about to answer, Virgil interrupted with a shy apology. « I’m sorry, but there must be a mistake, I’m not part of the actors group, I’ve never acted in the past four years, actually. »

« We know Virgil, but we really thought it might be such a nice way of thanking you guys for your contributions all these years. »

Oh yes, you’re right, putting me in a stress condition by making me do something I have no idea about for a big project that could take us to one of the largest theaters of the country is definitely the best choice you could have made.

All he was able to say was a stuttering noise, as they continued with their little speech. « And Roman is such a good actor, he’s going to help you for sure, aren’t you? »

The mentioned boy nodded vigorously, then proceeded to show one of his brightest smiles. « I always come to the rescue of my fellow actors in need. »

Yeah. Amazing. He was stuck with their decision.

« Besides you already probably know each other pretty well by now, so it won’t be a problem! »

The two students looked at each other. The recognizable expressions of two teens that, despite being in the same year and club, had never said a single word to each other apart from when needed during rehearsals.

« … Right. »

« But what about my group then? » Virgil questioned, he was definitely not going to leave them behind just like that.

« You don’t have to worry about them. This year your History of Art teacher will be lending a hand with the stage and volunteered to be the head of the group. »

Right. Mr. Williams, one of the only teachers that were pretty tolerable in his class.

« And look at them. » he did so, and he was met with happy smiles and encouraging faces. « I’m sure they’ll do a good job after four years with you by their side. Right, Anastasia? »

Anastasia was one of the oldest of the bunch, if not one of the wisest and most skilled, sometimes they wondered if she could just do anything that crossed her mind. « You got it! » she leaned in as if to get closer to the older boy. « We’ll be cheering for you Virge! » she concluded, followed by a couple of “Yeah!“s.

Everybody was so joyful and expectant that he couldn’t help but comply, so he decided to simply sigh and reply with nothing.

As the teachers continued with their topics for the meeting, Virgil couldn’t help but have a single thought in his mind.

This is going to be the most awkward thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.

✾✾✾✾

As soon as the meeting came to an end, Virgil was fast to get up and rush towards the dungeon’s stairs that would lead again to the surface. Basically there were two buildings, the school and the gym, linked by a little dungeon were there were all the labs and computer rooms.

He had to get back to the library as soon as he could, or god knows what “you’re late” speech his teacher would have given him. He was always literally on the verge of marking his students as absent if they didn’t show up to the lesson in the exact minute before the bell rang.

Virgil decided to panic about the dumpster fire that had come his way during the meeting after that. One issue at a time. First of all, he had to reach the stairs’ gate and push-

« Hey! Wait for me. »

God, he didn’t have time for this. He kept walking, ignoring the voice behind him and hoping for it to give up and leave him to his well-deserved peace and quiet. At least for three minutes.

As he walked, he found none but Roman himself matching his pace and walking by his side with a curious look. Who could blame him for wanting to be nice?

« You forgot your stuff in your classroom too? » he tried, not a brilliant starter for a conversation, but he had to get something out of the boy.

« No. » cut and dry, that was the only thing that Virgil dared to let escape his mouth.

« Where to, then? »

« The library. »

« Oh, are you waiting for a bus? Maybe I could keep you company. »

« Listen. » they made to a stop as they reached the last floor, not that far off from Virgil’s destination. « Today’s already been as stressful as it is, could you just … go straight to the point? I don’t have much time here. »

It was not like he had meant to sound rude, it wasn’t like it was his purpose either to brush off someone just like that or to see the other boy’s hurt expression. But he had reached a limit in which he didn’t really care-

« Oh, my apologies, then. »

And there was the guilt.

« I was just wondering if we could exchange numbers, if it isn’t uncomfortable for you. I guess we’ll need to hang out in the future. » he tried to sound as confident as he could, but it was as if “awkward” was scribbled all over his face.

« Sure, are you asking me on a date next? » with all the sarcasm injected in his words, he sure as hell wasn’t expecting Roman’s remark.

« Well, if you wouldn’t mind. » a sly smile made its way through the actor’s face, but was soon replaced by a troubled expression when he saw Virgil’s eye roll and sigh.

« Was I … was I too straightforward? I didn’t- »

« You’re fine, calm down. » Virgil quickly took out his phone and unlocked it before passing it to the other student. As he quietly typed after a murmured “alright”, Virgil couldn’t help but wonder if he had ever upset anyone with his bold statements. It wasn’t like this town was open minded, while he seemed … particularly flamboyant.

Before he could finish his thoughts, he had his phone back in his hands and the not-so-much-stranger-anymore was already heading towards his classroom to get his backpack.

« I sent myself a message. » he warned, then he disappeared and reappeared in a matter of seconds, marched down the hall and flashed him a toothy smile while waving his hand.

« Don’t be a stranger, I’ll see you tomorrow! »

Virgil only nodded and found it impossible to take his eyes off of him until the last lock of hair had vanished down the stairs, wondering what had just happened. Maybe that was the magic that worked on his public every year.

He gave a rapid look at the screen of his phone, noticing that the boy had saved himself as “Princey” with a star emoji right next to it.

This time, he entered the library with an amused expression.

✾✾✾✾

Roman kept repeating in his mind that it wasn’t his fault.

Yes, it was Firday. Yes, he had gone the rest of the days without a single word to Virgil, not even when he noticed him in the halls during break or when they either entered or left school. Some days he didn’t even see him.

Yes, he could have texted him. But it felt too weird, yet, they didn’t know each other at all! Plus they didn’t even have the script ready.

Yes, he felt like he had the weight of this play’s success completely on his shoulders and depending on him and still shied away from acknowledging it.

But Virgil kept avoiding him! He couldn’t do much without him.

If he saw him during the ten minutes break, Virgil would walk past him without a second thought as if he didn’t think he needed to talk to him.

Some other times he pretended he didn’t even see him. It was getting tough to even have his attention anymore, as if he had to be added to the mean girls table. He needed a miracle.

And maybe the deities were in his favor that day.

As Roman walked down the path that was made next to the plaza, he noticed a familiar little figure sitting on a bench with a backpack next to him and earbuds in his ears. He was watching in front of him as life flew by and didn’t notice Roman approaching at all.

« Virgil? »

The boy in front of him jerked his head up and took out both of his earbuds; his clothes looked much more worn and randomly put together, as if he had dressed himself in the dark. What got Roman the most was the quantity of dirt that was on them and … was that blood under some of his nails?

Roman dropped his bag on the bench, worry expanding in his chest. « Oh my goodness are you okay? » he made to reach for his hand, only to stop himself just in time to remind him of personal space.

Virgil gave him a confused look and brought his fingers to his eyes, close enough to examine them. « Not again. » he groaned, a huff coming out of his lips.

« Wait, I should have something. »

« You don’t have to, it’s noth- »

« Here! » Roman grabbed a box from his bag triumphantly, he took a couple of plasters and waved them in front of the other.

« Why do you even have so many? »

« What can I say, I’m a clumsy person. »

« Mh. Charming. »

« At least I rescued you! Now, show me your hands. » he ordered, but as soon as he saw Virgil’s mouth open to argue, he was ready to remark « I don’t care if you can do this by yourself, you have literally injured fingers, let me help. »

Seeing that there was no other way out of it, he complied.

As soon as he placed his hands over his fingers, Roman couldn’t help but notice how different their skin tones really were compared to one another, sure the difference was obvious at first glance, but seeing it this close was completely something else. He gently dabbed the fresh blood away with a tissue he had taken out with the box a few instants earlier.

Three plasters and a thank you later, the concerned face came back again and Virgil wanted nothing more than the sweet liberation of death. What was his deal, did he never dig on dirt as a child?

« How did you get hurt? »

Virgil simply pointed behind his shoulders, where Roman could only see a huge pile of dirt resting against a tree. He tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy, a sight the other would have found endearing if only he wasn’t so exasperated and tired.

« I’ve been working all day, Princey. »

Roman smiled at the familiar nickname, but still found confusion in his thoughts. « Aren’t you supposed to be at school? »

« It’s linked to school. Haven’t you heard of the excavations that our school is doing? »

Now that he mentioned that, he had heard a bunch of things, but never really paid attention since it was something that wasn’t related to his course.

Roman attended the Languages course, in which he could learn Spanish and French, other than his mother language, with literature comprehended, and all the experiences linked to it were the cultural exchanges during the third and fourth years.

Virgil, otherwise, was part of the Classical course, meaning that he had signed his death certificate by committing to five years of learning ancient Greek and Latin plus the respective literature as main subjects. But other than that and the famous one week school trip to Greece every three years, Roman had no clue what they did other than study until they couldn’t remember their own names, just like any other student.

Yeah, they couldn’t say their school system was perfect.

« I don’t exactly know every detail. Are you guys doing this? »

« Kind of. What we’re doing is carry on with the work we did the past two years, where we had opened other excavations. Let’s say we’re looking for clues. We’re supervised by an actual archaeologist though. »

« That’s so cool! Did you find any gold? » Virgil wasn’t really expecting such excitement coming from Roman. Apart from the all too familiar question, he often found his interlocutors to be pretty uninterested by the topic.

« No gold, but … remember last Tuesday? » Roman nodded attentively.

« On that morning, during one of Mr. Richardson’s lessons, one of our classmates video-called us saying there was an urgent matter to show us. They had found possibly a Roman coin. » he tried to bite back the smile that threatened to form on his lips at the joyful memory, but nothing could take away that particular twinkle in his eyes.

« Are you serious?! That’s wonderful, what if you find a hidden treasure? »

« Unlikely, but it would be nice. »

« Wow. » Roman breathed out, staring at the scene beside his … new acquaintance? « How did you hurt yourself, anyway? »

« See that pile of dirt? I’ve been scanning every bucket full of soil that was thrown in there. My job was searching in the dirt for possible relics that were missed out while others did the digging. We installed a little assembly line. And running your fingers through that for hours makes you sore I guess. »

« That doesn’t seem very fun, though. »

Virgil shrugged. « I didn’t mind. I like working by myself, especially when the job is as simple as it is important. » And it was true, it wasn’t like the archaeologist put him there because he was just hopeless with the other instruments, every little clue was important and looking for them was a crucial point that can be easily taken care of if you’re a perfectionist.

Plus, the archaeologist seemed to have taken a liking into Virgil, so that didn’t make him feel left out at all.

« Even though, today one of my classmates came to help me. » the boy turned to see that Roman was still listening to him, with no intention of changing the subject. That was new, too.

« You know those terribly annoying ones? He slowed down our chain to the point that he had to argue with this girl that was in dire need of empty buckets while we still had all of them full because he wanted to look through every inch of dirt before handing it out. » he let out a deep sigh, as if he had just been venting for hours.

« That was pretty idiotic, what happened then? »

« Uh, well, we went back to working, just as I was doing before he came to help. »

Roman snorted, imagining the scene in front of his eyes. « So he made a fuss only for it to go back as before and prove him wrong. I’d say he’s pretty amazing. »

« Yeah. » Virgil agreed, « Anyway, sorry for rambling. » he added in a lower tone, while checking his phone for notification, before putting it away quickly.

Roman arched his eyebrow at his words. « As someone who whines constantly, I don’t really think you should worry. »

At least, that succeeded to steal a chuckle from the tired one.

« Did you find anything? » Virgil was really starting to believe this guy couldn’t have a minute of pure silence.

« Well, there’s always a couple of bones, some weird ferric objects, teeth and … » he stopped, remembering the event of the week before.

This time, a wide smile appeared before he could stop it as he searched through his phone’s camera gallery; it was the one thing he was real proud of, possibly the prettiest of his findings.

He handed the phone over to Roman, whose eyes widened at the sight, in front of him he could see a pic of a piece of ceramic with white, brown, yellow and blue decorations, dirt was still covering it, but you could already make out how beautiful it was.

« You found this in here? »

« Yes, it was amazing. I was standing there, » he pointed to a vague direction in front of the dirt pile, excitement rising in his chest as he remembered. « and someone was throwing the dirt on the pile and I recognized the bottom of the piece. We had already found other ceramics and I was hoping it was one too. So I picked it up as soon as I spotted it and there were at least three inches of dirt on top. I moved it away with my thumb and I was met with that decoration. I think I might have yelled. » he leaned in to take another look at the pic, as if never satisfied with it.

Roman certainly didn’t miss how bright he appeared when he was talking about the excavation, all the tiredness was gone and the pain in his whole body caused by eight hours of work was long forgotten. He looked genuinely happy, a contrast to his unusual dark and broody persona.

« Did you choose you university yet? » he had a thought, while handing the phone back, which could have maybe helped the injured boy.

« Jumping a bit? Uh, no, honestly I have no idea. »

« Ever thought of doing something with archaeology? »

« Uhm … » Virgil tapped his fingers on his palm. It wasn’t like he hadn’t considered the possibility in the past, but he had been told that it was probably too hard and maybe too boring from his point of view. On the other hand he truly enjoyed working in the site …

« You still with me, buddy? You don’t have to choose in the next five minutes. »

« Shut up, I was thinking. »

« Your thinking is too loud. »

« And here I was considering you as actually not that bad. »

« I know you secretly admire me. »

« The important thing is you believe that. »

Their wise and profound conversation was interrupted by Virgil’s ringtone going off, he picked up, had a brief talk and tucked the phone away in his pocket.

« My mother’s arrived to pick me up. » he informed, pointing at a car parked a few feet away from them.

They both stood up, but none of them made to move at all.

« Uh, I was thinking … » Roman struggled to find the right words, as if anything he said might offend Virgil at any given moment. « I don’t want to pressure you or anything, but maybe we could meet up sometimes to talk about the play? Or I could start helping you as soon as we get the scripts. »

Virgil made a face, as if he had been trying to forget a bad nightmare and had just been reminded of it. Still, he had no right to escape that any further, and he was already anxious about not being able to make it in time, even before he could start learning his lines. So maybe starting to work on it sooner wasn’t that bad of an idea.

« Sounds good. » he hesitated, not sure how to continue, when an idea sparked in his mind. « Maybe I could give you some insight on the tragedy. »

« That’d be awesome! When are you free? »

Hah. « During week-days I’m busy until five p.m. everyday. At least for another week, when this project will be over. »

That explained why he was still in town at almost six p.m.

« You guys dig everyday? »

« Something like that. We’re divided into two groups and we dig every other day. When we don’t we still have to stay at school and do researches for the final exhibition. »

Roman’s eyes lit up at the last words, he was going to ask him about it the next time the occasion presented itself.

« That sucks. Okay, look, I don’t wanna steal anymore time from your beloved mother, so I’ll text about it to you later, okay? »

« Cool. » Virgil raised his hand and waved it ever so slightly.

Roman returned the good-bye and got back to his task, marching down the sidewalk, but as Virgil had just opened the door of his mother’s car, he remembered to yell “And don’t forget to get some rest, I’m starting to confuse your makeup with your dark circles!”.

Virgil got into the car with an exasperated sigh and found his mother giggling to herself while she looked at him.

« Was that a friend? »

« God I hope not. »

✾✾✾✾

Tuesday came back in a hurry, along with the theater club, some worried and some bored students. Virgil stood in the middle of “time to panic and/or cry” and “if I don’t fall into eternal slumber right now I will burn this building to the ground”.

If he could name some of the most atrocious backstabbers he had ever met, he’d instantly name his teachers: at first they told his class they’d make it easy for them since they were so busy with the project, now they pretended the students had to be more organized with their studying and homework. Tests and interrogations had been made despite them being at least nine hours at school instead of five, some even coming home later than that.

In a word, they didn’t care, it was the students’ fault.

Virgil had his back against the wall, sitting on the top step of the bleacher with his legs close to his chest, the meeting had been starting for a couple of minutes and, of course, he didn’t have anything to do except hating himself and wait for another uneventful hour to pass.

« Hey Gerard Way Too Dark, look what they gave me. »

Or maybe not.

Virgil looked up to be met with Roman standing in front of him with two binders in his hand: the two of them had agreed on meeting up only when school would let them breathe enough to find a single day where they were both free from studying. Which was yet to be a thing.

The beloved actor handed him one of the binders, it read the title of the play, the author and the characters. He didn’t like how his role was the very first one on the list.

« At last. » he dryly commented, flipping the pages quick enough to not read a single actual word out of it.

Roman sat down next to him and examined the first page, as if looking for some kind of unspoken treasure, then he turned to take out a stash of highlighters Virgil had no clue where he kept. He showed them to him, waiting for him to pick a color.

By the looks of them, they seemed brand new and neatly arranged in the colors of the rainbow. Virgil picked out the lilac one, he had always preferred the gentler colors, it made it easier to study with the lights on.

His colleague chose the red one and began going through the pages and highlighting all the lines he had to learn as Pentheus.

Silently, Virgil did the same with the lines Dionysus said, recalling the scenes as he went through them. Though … he noticed there were far too many. He never realized how impossible it looked in his eyes until he had it plainly laid out in front of him.

Great, you’re going to mess this up, you won’t ever be able to do this in time. Plus you’re probably going to forget everything the moment right before going on stage. Who thought this was going to be a good id-

« Are you okay down there? »

He didn’t realize he was rubbing at his face with his hands, while trying to shake off the storm forming in his mind. In doing so, he had also let the marker fall to the wooden step with a clatter, which caught the other’s attention.

« Yeah, ’m just tired. » he managed to let out through his fingers in a muffled sound.

Roman made a humming noise, then proceeded to cast aside all his stuff and let himself relax against the wall. « Then I’d say we call it a day and sleep until it’s time to part ways. »

Virgil looked at him, surprise written all over his face, wasn’t he supposed to work even harder than normal because of the occasion? Either way, he mirrored the boy, pulling up his hood so that he could find some comfort.

« I think I’m too worried about all this mess, » he retorted, gesturing at his script. « to be able to even close my eyes. »

« Then tell me about it. »

He considered the option, he did actually promise him he’d do it before, besides he’d be distracting himself from the impending doom, be actually productive and explaining the tragedy to the actor. A double win for both parties.

« The story is centered around this group of Bacchantes that came from Asia and want to enter Thebes and spread their cult, they’re also guided by a lone nomad that none knows is actually Dionysus, the founder of the cult itself. » he turned to face Roman, in a silent “tell me where I lose you” manner.

« They are stopped by Pentheus, now king of the city, son of Agave and nephew of Cadmus, the founder of Thebes. Tiresias is a famous seer that understands the potential of the cult and invites Cadmus to preach the god with him. They try to reason with Pentheus, but it’s all in vain. In the meantime, while this king is busy insulting the cult, Dionysus makes all the women of the city go mad and follow the Maenads. »

« Payback? »

« More like first warning. » Virgil counted to one on his right hand for emphasis. « After that, Pentheus sent his soldiers to capture him. And they succeeded, he didn’t resist and kept up his act, only to free himself of the chains thanks to his magic. When Pentheus found him, Dionysus pretended he was helped by the god and began charming him until the king gave in. »

« You mean, how he made him dress up as a Maenad? »

« Yes, but not only he did that, he drove him crazy, too. » did anyone else ever notice the slight green spots in Roman’s brown eyes or was it just the trick of the light? Virgil couldn’t tell, so he decided to explain further. « Pentheus claimed to be seeing double and having hallucinations. He was also very careful of his clothes, hair and posture, he wanted to be the perfect Maenad. He tried to convince himself it was for disguise purposes, but in my opinion he was rather enjoying that dress-up. »

« Really? » Roman questioned, he still had to look into his character, the more he knew about him, the better he could portray him. He always took every bit of information he could find, to the point in which he could somehow relate to them or at least be able to link him and the role. That way, he was able to love acting as every single one of them.

« You need to read their last conversation. Even you would say that at first glance. Anyway, the play ends with the Bacchantes shredding to pieces the body of Pentheus. The practice is called “sparagmòs”. After that Agave and Cadmus have a touching scene and it ends there. A bit shocking for her since she just killed her son, but the god made sure the women all saw a beast instead. »

« That’s cruel, though. »

« Princey, he disrespected a fucking god, dying is the least that could happen to him. »

There was the nickname again. And, as if on cue, Roman’s lips twitched into a small smile that disappeared right after. He wasn’t aware of the reason why he didn’t want to get caught, but … did Virgil really not remember?

« He didn’t give him a chance to apologize! »

« Then again, the cult of the Bacchantes includes a ritual where a human needs to be sacrificed. If he had ever been sorry, Dionysus would have probably ordered him to sacrifice himself so that he could be satisfied and purified by his action. »

« Okay, okay. » Roman put his hands up in surrender. « I recognize I’m talking to a smart one over here, I give up. » he pretended he was waving a white flag to his side.

Virgil chuckled at his words. « I’m actually just average, but I can be passionate about some things, too. »

« Just average? I doubt all of your classmates still remember the entire plot of a tragedy and also can provide conspiracy theories. »

« Conspiracy- what are you talking about? »

« You know I’m right, you were totally on the verge of geeking out about this one. C'mon who’s your favorite character? » the actor mocked resting his face on his palms while a sly expression surrounded him.

« I will throw you off the stairs the next chance I have. »

« Good luck with that since you can’t even reach. »

Oh that was the last fucking straw.

Virgil turned his head to look at him in the eyes so rapidly that Roman feared his neck would give in and break right then and there. But the most disturbing image was the rage that was forming around the boy’s aura.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t the wisest thing to-

Virgil surged forward in a sudden movement and the actor jumped away pleading for salvation, it was only when he heard a foreign laugh that he turned around only to be met with the same dark and stormy guy, doubled over himself with laughter, teasing Roman.

« Did you seriously think I was going to attack you? »

« You can be scary sometimes, shut up! » heat began running in Roman’s cheeks out of embarrassment and he pretended nothing happened while Virgil quieted down next to him.

It was exactly in that moment that the meeting was called off.

As Roman followed him to the library, he wondered if that was going to be a regular thing after-

You idiot, this is the last week of your project.

« Oh, by the way. » Virgil stopped at the top of the stairs. « Don’t take it personally if I brush you off or disappear for the next few days, but the exhibition’s coming and I still have no idea what to say. »

« Talking about efficiency. » the actor rolled his eyes, recalling a few other examples he could give on the marvelous organization of teachers.

« Yeah, our teacher gave us tons of useful information. » he dead-panned, approaching the library’s doors.

« I will forever respect you for putting up with Mr. Richardson. »

That was able to get a chuckle out of Virgil.

« See you around, Pentheus. »

And with that, Roman was left walking home by himself with the warm feeling of having made a new possible friend spreading in his chest.

✾✾✾✾

It was Saturday morning when he noticed the fliers hanging around school. They showed a bunch of excavation pics and the subject of an archaeological exhibition centered around the school’s town. Roman took note of the date: it was exactly that same day!

So that was how he found himself during afternoon pacing around the plaza and stepping into an old tower, where a little crowd of at least fifteen people of all ages were standing and listening attentively to a student. There was only a little group of them, which he figured was because the exhibition took place multiple times during the week.

He just wondered if he had been lucky enough to find …

As he made his way through the front, so that he could see all the materials and boards exposed he heard the female voice say « Now I will turn it over to my classmate, Virgil! »

As soon as he heard his name, he followed her gaze and finally met an unusual sight: instead of the usual hoodie, he wore a black button up shirt and skinny dark blue jeans that might as well have been mistaken for the same other color. So he did know how to be fancy if he wanted.

Before he began explaining, he noticed Roman standing right next to their theater teachers and bit back a smile. He didn’t recall inviting him, actually he hadn’t wanted anyone he knew to witness him mess everything up as he was used to do. So what was he doing there?

Virgil welcomed everybody once again, then turned over to all the materials exposed.

And when he started talking, Roman was enthralled.

He didn’t know if it was the way the words rolled down his tongue, how he brushed the objects as if they were sacred treasures that would turn into dust at the slightest touch, or the sparkle in his eyes when he took in everybody’s attention and curiosity.

But there was a thing he did recognize: it was passion, that was definitely what he was radiating, the one emotion he knew all too well which helped him getting his public hanging at the edge of their seats.

And this time, he was the hooked one.

The two locked eyes multiple times, Virgil was surprised enough to find comfort in having someone to constantly smile at him, or in Mrs. Eagan’s nodding, in all those mouthed “you’re doing great”. He couldn’t stop going back at them everytime he looked up.

Before anyone knew it, his time was over and the group moved onto the last part of the exhibition, which was outside; the crowd followed the last student to the site that was still open and the remaining students in the room sighed with relief as Mr. Richardson followed them too for the final thanks.

Some minutes and a standing ovation later, Roman was already back into the small room as bright as ever, walking toward his favorite little archaeologist.

Virgil paced towards him at the same time, hissing a “what are you doing here?” while a small grin let itself spread on his face.

With no warning and an abrupt move, Roman’s arms had already wrapped themselves around the other boy’s upper chest, lifting him a little in the process.

Well, that was definitely new.

Not being used to such excitement, Virgil was only able to awkwardly return the hug after an initial moment of vacillation. Seeing his energy on stage was a thing, experiencing it like that was completely something else, but deep in his heart he knew it wasn’t a habit he wouldn’t have liked to adapt to.

Wait, what was that thought coming from? Why would he have to adapt to anything, he was just going to help him through acting and that was it.

Still, a new friend wasn’t a bad idea either …

« You did amazing! » was what Virgil heard after being released from the embrace, but not quite completely as Roman was still holding onto his arms.

He blinked a few times. « What are you talking about, I messed up and started stuttering at one point- »

« Oh shut up and let me compliment you, I didn’t even remember you did, king of modesty. »

« More like king of self-deprecation. »

« Can you stop for once in your life? »

Right in the short amount of time they weren’t talking, a single line caught their attention.

« Look at all this trash. »

What?

« Yeah, these are all so obviously fake. »

Thunderstorms.

Thunderstorms and lightning, howls of rage formed in Virgil’s chest, burning in a bonfire which heat traveled through his blood and reached his eyes only to darken them with fury.

His body stiffened, he wanted to scowl at them and tell them how wrong they were, just how dare them invalidate all the hard work of three weeks?

« Oh, Virgil! » Roman seemed to distract him, but he had a plan in mind as he moved both of them close to the materials table. « Remember that day I visited you while you guys were digging? »

But there wasn’t any- was he onto something? « Oh, yeah, you were walking home from school and you decided to stop. » he played along, as his friend nodded, making sure to be heard by the rude couple.

In the meantime, one of the students had gone out to update their teacher on the situation.

« Yeah, when you found that beautiful ceramic piece! » Roman turned to recognize the piece he had seen in the pic he had been shown, then pointed it. « Is it that one? »

« Yes, I can pick it up for you. » Virgil did so as he spoke.

« Wow, it’s even more gorgeous. »

« We had a hard time cleaning everything, so we tried to do the best job we could. Getting dirt out of bones is also … not super easy. »

« You guys are awesome. » Roman kept glancing around the room arranged for the exhibition, while the now embarrassed couple decided to leave under the incinerating stare of Mr. Richardson who had just came in to witness the situation.

Everybody in the room went to either grin or laugh inside, while the two boys shared a high five.

After making sure everything was under control, the teacher decided to begin cleaning up the place, so all the guests that stayed to chatter were dismissed.

« Hey, uh … » Virgil struggled to get out his voice, a little for being tired, a little because in moments of shyness his tone would go out as nothing more than a simple mutter. « Thank you for earlier and … also for coming, I guess. »

« Both of them were my utter pleasure. » Roman had a thing for being extra, and if he chose that aesthetic, he better had to stick to it by doing a theatrical bow at his friend.

« You are a nerd. »

« With style! »

« Whatever helps you sleep at night. » Virgil turned around to face the tower and began walking away. « See you around, Princey. »

There went another one.

Roman had to giggle quietly to himself, every single time his mind traveled to that one particular moment back in the first year when-

« You know, this is what I was talking about. »

He felt a presence walking by his side, suddenly, and found Mr. Eagan glaring at him with an almost nostalgic look.

« I’ve been telling him for years that he has the acting potential. » she sighed while Roman simply nodded along. « He’s been getting better, you see this isn’t the first exhibition they do, I’ve seen them all. »

« Oh, really? »

« Yes. And you can totally sense how much emotion he’s putting, you can tell he’s invested. »

« I agree, I’ve had the occasion to see that. »

« And honestly I feel bad for forcing him into this play thing … but I’m sure he’s going to shine. I’m so proud of him. » she smiled at herself, then stopped in her tracks and looked up at her student. « And I’m also sure you’ll do a good job. Bring out his talent, Roman. In your own special way. »

He remained speechless for a moment, just how much trust did these teachers actually have in both of them? He found it endearing, he felt almost as if they had some kind of motherly appreciation towards them.

« Thank you. We’ll work very hard on this one, you’ll see! »

They exchanged their farewells and Roman headed home, this time by himself, having all kinds of thoughts in his mind.

But most of all, he felt worried.

All of a sudden, it seemed like a blank page was being replaced in his head instead of all the knowledge apprehended through his life.

He had no idea how to start helping Virgil.

✾✾✾✾

Despite the initial awkwardness, things had begun to go way better than both of them had imagined. The occasional staying late after the theater meetings had allowed them to grow closer, so much that they at least shared a few words during break every day at school. And that was a huge effort for Virgil as he preferred to stay in class where almost none hanged around and simply scroll through his phone, waiting for the last two dreadful hours of lessons.

And, well, random texts weren’t late to arrive to the party, too.

Princey: okay but can we talk about what an idiot Pentheus is?

Vee: this is a weird midnight text to get, but go off I guess

Princey: I’m serious! Come on, like why don’t you just let people do their thingsss

Vee: Oh you’re taking this to heart, alright

Princey: Yeah?? Am I not supposed to be emotionally invested in my own play?

Vee: You’re talking as if you’ve written it

Princey: Maybe I did

Vee: gasp are you Euripides reincarnated

Princey: The one and only

Vee: My apologies sir, you have all the rights to whine about your own plot

Vee: I also have no clue how you know english

Princey: It’s the muses’ power!

Vee: Melpomene?

Princey: Bless you

Vee: Wow okay, go to sleep

Princey: Sleep is for the weak

Vee: And you’re gonna be weak in the morning so it really doesn’t matter

Princey: Alright, mum, why would you stay up then?

Vee: Reasons

Princey: Are you still scrolling through Tumblr and sticking to your natural emo kid persona?

Vee: ouch

Vee: no, but I’d love to

Princey: mhh then you forgot to do homework or study?

Vee: You know me, I’m too anxious about my parents’ judgment to do that

Princey: demanding parents?

Vee: sorta.

Princey: sore topic?

Vee: Yup.

Princey: Alright then, you’re watching a movie? An anime?

Vee: No, I’m just talking to an idiot who won’t go to sleep

Princey: Oh I see, sounds like a total badass guy fighting the system

Vee: Yeah, fighting his body’s shut down system if he doesn’t get enough sleep.

Princey: bold of you to say that when we’re in the same situation

Vee: listen we’re talking about you stay focused

Princey: you know I’m right

Princey: C'mon why are you still up

Vee: no reason tbh

Vee: I just can’t seem to fall asleep so I’m tyring myself out until I can pass out on my bed

Princey: thaaat doesn’t seem very healthy

Vee: I never said I wanted to take care of myself

Princey: LOVE YOURSELF BITCH

Vee: HAH

Vee: no.

Princey: i will make you!!

Princey: one day we’ll have a big relaxation day and you will be able to see the beauty in yourself!!

Vee: sounds unrealistic i’m in

Princey: come on work with me emo nightmare

Vee: i’m too lazy to live i’m sorry

Princey: then why don’t you just s l e e p

Vee: bc my sleep schedule is a mess and i cant seem to even shut my eyes everything in my life is going straight in the trash can and uhhhhhh yeah everything sucks

Princey: woah slow down

Princey: okay look you’re having me a bit concerned here

Vee: haha no it’s the usual daily stuff for me

Princey: ……….. it shouldn’t be????

Vee: eh

Princey: hey, would you answer if I called you?

Vee: if this is because of what i’ve just said, you’re worrying too much

Princey: nah it’s just for a distraction

Princey: and maybe you’ll be able to fall asleep

Vee: are you implying your voice is boring or you want to sing me a lullaby?

Princey: i’ll pretend i didn’t read the first part but i’ll have you know i have a very beautiful singing voice

Vee: pf alright i’m not entirely convinced

Princey: i’ll buy both of us coffee at the vending machine tomorrow morning before the first lesson starts

Vee: okay i’m sold, hit me up

✾✾✾✾

« This is unacceptable! I’m sorry, our friendship has to end here, I’m leaving. »

« I’m telling you, I have my reasons. »

« You can’t just simply dislike Hercules! »

Virgil sighed in defeat and resigned in his plastic seat; Christmas holidays had been around for a week, new year’s was already approaching and two youngsters had decided to spend an afternoon together with the excuse of reading some lines out of their scripts and helping each other out.

It wasn’t really the first time they did that, plus with the arrival of winter it was a nice excuse to be comforted by a warm cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream.

Just like they were doing in that moment, only that it seemed that they had completely forgotten about the play because of how much they were invested in other topics. Such as, obviously, Disney movies.

« It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just … so wrong. »

« Oh my- it’s not Percy Jackson, it’s Disney, they’re allowed to take some creative liberties. »

« I know, but I didn’t watch it as a child, I saw it recently- »

« How dare you. »

« -shut up. What I mean is: my studies have ruined its likability. »

Roman closed his eyes and put his hands together in front of his face in an exasperated manner. « Then let’s hear these freaking reasons, enlighten my blindness, o wise one! »

Virgil couldn’t help but smirk as the other one huffed. « First of all, thank you for the compliment. »

« But, see, the first thing that got me was the character of Phil. The actual Philoctetes wasn’t a satyr, he was a hero that fought in the Trojan war who also happened to be Hercules’ friend at some point. »

« Well, they were linked in the end! »

« Let me finish. All the deeds that Phil claimed to have made? All those heroes he trained? Bullshit. Everything was done by Chiron, the only wise and composed centaur of greek mythology. And like centaurs were thought as savage beasts, satyrs were always linked to Dionysus and described as libidinal creatures. Philoctetes would have probably felt insulted. »

« Your studies may have ruined your view but you’re ruining my childhood right now. » Roman muttered the words as a childish pout formed on his lips.

« Ah, also Megara was a city, not a person. » said Virgil with nonchalance.

« WHAT. » the wide-eyed actor jumped in his seat and surged forward a little, blinking a few times.

Without expecting it, Virgil’s composed face contorted with a snort, which then grew into giggles and then again transformed into a genuine and amused laughter that couldn’t stop.

He tried to breathe in. « Princey, you- » he cut himself off as another wave of giggles hit him, so he held one hand up as if to tell him to wait until he could properly compose himself.

And Roman knew he otherwise would have felt offended, or at least in a playful way, he knew normally he would have instantly asked what was the matter. But he couldn’t really shake off the feeling of wanting to protect and carve this picture into his memory until it was the only thing he could remember.

And he truly wanted to share that angelic laughter, participate to the mirthful moment, yet he found himself solely staring at the unusual sight in pleasant disbelief at how stunning that scene was.

He could merely twitch his lips upwards and consider how much he adored hearing the nickname in such an entertained voice.

Something inside Roman clicked as Virgil finally gained enough breath, and he knew he was done for.

« Sorry, uh, » he was finally able to breathe out. « I was actually messing with you. She did exist. »

He looked him in the eyes and all Roman could think was “finally”.

After a beat, noticing the other didn’t respond and assuming he was upset or something, he continued. « Though she and their children were afterwards killed by Hercules according to some. Others think he killed his children and Megara compelled him to commit suicide. Awful stories for great heroes, I guess. »

Roman, who was still starstruck, was only able to comment. « Breathtaking. »

Virgil made a face and lowered the cup he was raising to his lips. « What? »

« Uh … what? No I was just- the TV! Behind you, yes. I was commenting that. »

The confused one turned ever so slightly to quickly glance at the old black screen facing his back. « Alright, I won’t question your weird obsession with old style televisions. »

Nailed it.

Their discourse went on escalating to different topics, but never once brushing the fact that they met to keep up their theater practice, like good procrastinating students. It wasn’t like they were avoiding it on purpose, for the first time they felt like spending quality time with each other was their main priority.

« Okay, listen, Tripping in the Darkness. I went on a cruise once and even there I was able to reveal my beautiful voice. »

« So sorry for the passengers. »

« I should have left you outside freezing in the cold. » Roman scoffed after a beat.

« But you didn’t. »

« I’m starting to reconsider. »

« We both know you would never do it. »

« I forgive you only because you’re cute. » oh wait, oh wha- Roman immediately hid behind his cup, drinking the last remaining of his warm beverage. He hoped that the heat would rush off of his cheeks by the time he had finished.

« Wow, I’m flattered. » Virgil didn’t leave his sarcastic tone and didn’t seem to have noticed anything different, until he snorted out loud when he was met with Roman’s face after he lowered the cup.

Roman’s heart sank, was he still blushing? Was he already onto him? That was bad, that was-

« You got … » Virgil’s voice got back to being amused and he gestured towards his face. Oh, great, he had a chocolate-stained face now. Just what he needed.

« Where? Is it gone? » he frantically kept on asking as he wiped around his mouth and cheeks with his bare hand.

His friend shook his head. « Not even close. »

On a scale on one to Roman’s worst embarrassing moments compilation, he would have probably found himself on top of that very ranking, because after that Virgil simply reached for the container on the little table.

« For starters, you take a tissue. » while he did so, Roman could only watch as his friend gently rubbed away the spot on the bridge of his nose. Oh. The cup did touch it earlier.

Alright that was awkward and I’m stupid, let’s move on.

But no, his brain had decided to short circuit and leave him to his impulsiveness; out of the blue, he grabbed Virgil’s wrist before he pulled away completely.

Virgil blinked, confused once again by his behavior. « Uh, what’s up? »

That’s when Roman’s mind finally snapped to reality and, of course, he panicked to find the best excuse he could permit, so he slid both of his hands to cage Virgil’s own. « You’re super cold! » he noticed, lowering their hands to rest on the table.

« Yeah? It’s minus degrees outside? And I’m often anxious? »

« Oh, right. » why was he feeling more sympathetic than usual? « Then, I shall protect you from both! »

« By holding my hand? »

« By making sure your heat level is within the parameters! »

« Alright, Doc. I’ll trust you. »

That was how they ended up holding hands for the rest of the day without even realizing until they had to part.

« You sure you don’t want me to accompany you to the parking lot? »

« I’m fine, don’t mind. »

They were standing out of the cafe to exchange their goodbyes, about to head for different streets and eventually go home.

« You know, you didn’t really have to pay for me, I’m not broke. » Virgil talked in little puffs of condensed air, hands in his pockets and trying to shake off the cold stinging sensation that pierced his skin.

« Oh, soft you now, »

« Is that a fucking Hamlet quote? »

« -it is my duty to ensure your well-being. Plus I know you hate talking to cashiers, so. »

« You’re the worst, but thank you. » Virgil rolled his eyes. « I still feel like I owe you one now, though. »

Well you could just kiss me whenever you feel like, a part of Roman’s brain noted. Uhm, what the fuck is your problem? Responded the other.

« Nah, I’ll probably forget it by the next time we talk. » he admitted, ignoring the weird thoughts that were happening in his mind, a mind that needed to shut up for at least a single second.

Virgil muttered an “alright” and was about to turn around and wave him off, like he always did, when he was confronted by a simple demand.

« Uh, can I, like, hug you? »

He stopped in his tracks, considering for a moment, before a “sure” escaped his lips and he started nodding.

Roman stepped closer and wrapped his arms around his chest, content and making a little pleased sound as the other returned the hug. He wasn’t sure why he was being so uncertain that day.

« Bye, Virge! » he called out as he stepped away from his friend and began walking home.

Virgil waved in return and immediately took out his phone and earbuds: after hitting shuffle he was fast to recognize the song by the first chords.

Acceptance, huh? He had discovered their song back in middle school. Boy, did he try so hard to be edgy. Still, certain songs weren’t really that bad.

Oh no, this couldn’t be more unexpected.

He had just made to turn the corner of a mansion’s fence when a realization struck him. And he was still subtly smiling because of it.

He somehow hadn’t been aware of it in the moment, probably because of their distracting conversation.

The lyrics went by in his ears and he almost didn’t even notice the words flowing in his head as that little memory of their afternoon occupied his mind.

Could this be out of line? To say you’re the only one breaking me down like this.

Roman had been brushing his thumb against his skin for almost all the time he had been holding onto his hand earlier.

He also had hugged him a little bit tighter than how he remembered back in October. And he was very excited too, that day.

And yeah, the majority of sane people would have found the situation simply nice or just a normal friendly action. But Virgil?

Come to think of it, I’m aching.

Yeah, he was already burying his face in his hoodie. God, was that heat rushing at his cheeks? Did his body really want to make it any more obvious?

On account of my transgression, will you welcome this confession?

Oh god, oh fu-

Virgil exhaled deeply and rubbed at his face with his hands, an unwelcome warm feeling spreading in his chest, it felt like as if someone was lighting a fire in there, not caring for the emotional damage that they were about to cause. Like a firework sent up in the middle of the night only to startle you enough to wake you up in a cold sweat and thumping heart.

Keep me hanging on so contagiously.

Virgil abruptly ripped the earbuds away from his ears and stuffed everything in his pockets as he leaned on his school’s gate, staring at the parking lot in front of him. His parents had yet to arrive to pick him up.

He had enough time to calm down.

« Well, I’m fucked. »

Maybe.

✾✾✾✾

Princey: HAPPY NEW YEAR V!!

Vee: yeee here’s to another shitty one

Princey: AW COME ON try to be a bit more upbeat

Vee: YEEE HERE’S TO ANOTHER SHITTY ONE!!!!

Princey: THAT’S MORE LIKE IT COMRADE

Vee: wtf okay

Princey sent a pic

Vee: are those streamers in your hair?

Vee: and … glitter?

Princey: don’t question it it’s your turn now send me something

Vee: i don’t think that’s how it works

Princey: do iiiiiit scaredy cat

Vee: fine

Vee sent a pic

Princey: .. wait

Princey: Are you in bed?

Vee: On the couch, actually

Vee: if that’s what you’re asking yes, i’m at home

Princey: and you’re not having fun? Are you okay??

Vee: yes don’t worry

Vee: i’m by myself

Princey: WHAT

Vee: gee it’s not that weird

Princey: no it’s just i thought you were out with friends

Vee: were all busy

Vee: but it’s fine, i don’t really appreciate big and loud parties

Vee: and i jump at every single loud noise so fireworks are a big no for me

Princey: you should have told me!! i would have managed something, we could have even just chilled alone

Vee: no it’s fine really, thank you

Vee: sorry to bring you down with that

Princey: oh shush

Princey: can i call you?

Vee: that’s sweet and all but i’d feel like i’m bothering you so

Princey: what are you talking about, plus there are so many people here they won’t even realize i’m gone for a while

Vee: i don’t wanna waste your time, it’s ok

Princey: but you’re not doing that!

Princey: idk can I at least visit you for some time? I don’t want you being all alone like that

Vee: no

Vee: i mean not that i don’t want you here but i’d feel guilty, i told you

Princey: you don’t have to!!

Princey: i lo kdjsdsdjk

Vee: what-

Princey: look i care about you, you’re one of my closest friends already and i love spending time with you, so if there’s a way for me to cheer you up i will gladly accept it

Vee: that is …

Vee: the gayest thing i’ve ever read

Vee: you’re a dork

Princey: i will take all that as a compliment

Vee: okay let me just

Vee: get my dog off of me

Princey: ADORABLE DOG

Vee: yeah i love her

Vee: and afterwards you can call me alright

Princey: SCORE!!

Princey: okay

Vee: one thing though

Princey: mirror mirror on the wall what’s the question botherin y'all

Vee: … i’ll pretend i’ve never read that

Vee: are you still getting me coffee tomorrow morning like that one time

Princey: if this is a subtle “do you wanna hang out here” i’m all for it, tho expect me to come up at like 11

Vee: wow you know exactly how to make things awkward everytime

Vee: okay dog’s off, you can call

Princey: on it!

✾✾✾✾

It is widely known and said that time flies by quickly when you’re either having fun, doing nothing or during the holidays. Students had reluctantly returned to their daily routines of lessons, homework and studying, trying to frame everything in the best way, so that they had at least some time to breathe between their tasks.

January, sadly, meant that the end of the first term was approaching inexorably and the teachers suddenly realized they needed more marks than they actually had from every student in a matter of two weeks. Everything for the initial report cards that, in the end, didn’t matter at all compared to the final one.

Thanks to February, students would have some time to breathe and re-gain strength until March, which was another wave of tests in preparation for the real monster: May.

For the last years, though, February also meant that they were going to get more information about which subjects they had to focus on the most for their final exams, which could only be linked to chaos, panic and that anxious but subtle feeling that the big moment was coming.

Thankfully, the weekend existed and with it also places for poor unfortunate souls to release stress and distract themselves from the imminent danger.

And that is how we follow two fellow individuals in distress who had decided upon spending their first free time in weeks walking around town and having a nice chat during night. At least before they ended up in a little desolated playground, their scripts in front of their faces, definitely acting more dramatically than needed.

« Do you perform the rites by night or by day? » Roman leaned on one of the street lamps, permitting him to read his line and, at the same time, he widely gestured with his free hand.

« Mostly by night; darkness conveys awe. » Virgil emphasized his second line with such an ominous tone that made his friend giggle lightly.

« Oh my, I’m thrilled. »

« Okay but you’ve got to admit it’s actually a cool phrase to say. »

« Maybe if we were serious enough, my darkling. »

After Virgil’s usual “shut up and keep reading” (which he had been using for the past fifteen minutes, mind you), Roman complied. « This is treacherous towards women, and unsound. » his voice sounded almost offended, his hand trailed over his heart in a fist.

Virgil bit back a grin at the sight. « Even during the day someone may devise what is shameful. »

« This vile quibbling settles your punishment. » the taller one took a few steps forward, pointing his finger on his friend, accusatory.

« Your ignorance and impiety toward the god will settle yours. » Virgil snarled, imitating the other in pointing fingers.

Roman gasped way more dramatically than needed and placed a hand on his chest, eyes wide with disbelief. « How bold the Bacchant is, and not unpracticed in speaking! »

His acting partner intook some breath, before stopping, narrow eyed, while he read his words.

« What, is something wrong? » Roman demanded, eyes scanning the next lines before looking up.

« This is so fucking gay. » he admitted, a smile playing on his lips as he contemplated the possibility of a different turn of events in the plot.

« Dionysus and Pentheus, but make it gayer. »

« Than it already is? That’s a challenge. »

« I have something in mind. » Virgil didn’t like the mischievous look on Roman’s face. « Keep going. »

« Tell me what I must suffer; what grievous harm will you do to me? » he hadn’t noticed how fast the other was to reach him, the previous grin was still imprinted on his lips. His pace faltered only a bit, but didn’t stop when he was a few steps from his Dionysus.

« First, I will cut off your delicate curls. » how Roman could change his tone from a mocking one to a warm and clear one, would forever be an unsolved mystery to the world. He proceeded to raise a hand to Virgil’s hair and slowly moved his bangs to the side, a knuckle brushing his cheek afterwards.

« My locks are sacred; I am growing them for the god. » Virgil played along and started to remember the lines, a result of their persistent reading every week. Not that he could really tear off his eyes from the looming figure in front of him.

« Next, give me this thyrsos from your hands. » other steps forward and Roman had trapped him against some metal bars he wasn’t aware of.

« Take it from me yourself; this is the wand of Dionysus I am bearing. » with no warning, Roman pressed his right hand, where the actual thyrsos would have been, to the bars and locked their fingers together. He leaned in even further, making sure Virgil could notice the sly sparkle in his half-lidded eyes.

« Last, I will guard your body deep in the dungeons. » his other hand gripped the bars right next to the boy’s head, literally trapping him. He had to stay in character, after all.

The leaning was slow this time, but didn’t seem to be stopping at any moment and Virgil could swear he felt his body move without his consent.

Inches apart, and Roman’s lips twitched upward. He stopped.

Virgil snorted.

Next thing they knew they were both bursting out laughing like they had just heard the best joke their favorite comedian had ever made.

« That was- » Virgil tried, after they both collapsed to the ground, weak in their knees for too much hilarity. « That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. »

« When Pentheus and Dionysus couldn’t get any gayer. » Roman commented through an almost hysterical laughter, while part of his brain began to shut down in a ohgodwhathasjusthappenediwasabouttobutthenididntandisthisthereallife state. An everyday situation to which he was used to, of course.

« Actually, » his friend began, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. « Greek gods are very open about their sexuality. »

« Oh, yeah. Wasn’t it Zeus himself that tried to f- » Roman was instantly shushed to silence, while a pained expression grew on the other’s face.

« We don’t talk about him. »

Fair enough. They had been in comfortable silence for quite a while, sitting on the ground and enjoying the void of the night as the only sources of light showed them only certain features and details of the objects around them.

« Hey, Virge? »

The mentioned boy almost jumped at the sudden sound. « Yeah? »

Roman’s expression, fixated on something ahead of him, was somewhat between focused and in a daze.

« Did you know the teachers wanted to keep your hair growing for the play? »

« What. »

« They decided against it when they realized I actually had to cut them away during the show. »

« Why are you telling me this right now? »

« I was just thinking about … » Roman’s words lingered, as if he thought about whether or not he could disclose a secret.

About me, please say about me. Virgil shook off the bizarre thought while he waited for a response. Are you fucking kidding me? Part of his mind answered. Didn’t all those past experiences teach you anything? Virgil found it harder to concentrate on Roman’s words now, he creased his eyebrows as if he were having a headache.

Those were in elementary school and middle school, you idiot. The other side responded. They were still valid experiences!

« Ohi. » Roman waved his hand in front of the other’s face. « Are you on this planet, sir? »

« Sadly, I still am. »

Roman rolled his eyes at that. « Dang, here I thought the aliens had gotten you. »

« You wish. »

« Anyway, I was about to get going since it’s getting pretty late even for a Saturday night. » he pulled himself on his feet, then smiled brightly and turned to his friend. « Lift home? »

« Thank god you exist. »

And Roman did really try hard to act cool and all, but he found out he couldn’t prevent his face from turning at least the weakest tint of red.

✾✾✾✾

They didn’t know how it was possible, but they made it through until April.

The last two months were a train wreck of multiple meetings between Roman’s wonderful school trip abroad, additional tests, the first exams simulations, and things getting very serious at theater club. The designs, scenes, props and costumes were all coming along neatly and, with everybody giving their all, the excitement for the play could be felt through thin air. Roman was thrilled and he thought that there wasn’t nothing else that could possibly be better than that kind of feeling.

Virgil begged to differ.

He was standing in the middle of the external part of the front of the school with a couple of other classes of his same course; they all had backpacks on their backs and a luggage held close.

Virgil was almost bouncing, unable to stay still, he started tapping his fingers on the handle of his own luggage. The anticipation was killing him, how could everybody else be so calm and casual? They were about to leave for a trip to Greece!

It was the most wanted and awaited of school trips for their course, it happened every three years and not only students were given the opportunity to confront and visit places and subjects they had studied, but also thanks to certain lovable teachers the weirdest and funniest things occurred in those trips. It was a dream come true, finally at their fingertips.

He really didn’t want to seem mean, but Virgil couldn’t stop looking at the time on his phone while one of his closest classmates trailed off talking about how energetic they felt for the trip ahead.

Until …

« Wine god! » what the f-

Virgil and his friend looked up simultaneously to be met with the vision of Roman waving one arm from the top of the external stairs and afterwards quickly running down towards them.

« I didn’t see you anywhere this morning! » he was still half-running when he spoke those words, as he reached them. He put his hands on Virgil’s shoulders.

« We didn’t really leave until now, we had a test. »

His eyes widened « What the heck? Right before a trip? »

Virgil shrugged. They had chosen it was better to do it before than afterwards.

« Well, anyway, I wanted to properly say goodbye and wish you a good travel! »

« Thank you, buddy. You really didn’t have to, aren’t you having a lesson right now? » Virgil raised one eyebrow, uncertain.

Roman showed him one of his stupidly charming grins and put his hands on his hips. « I simply asked to go to the bathroom. »

« I hate to break it to you, Roman, but this isn’t exactly the right way. »

« Oh, shut up. You know I wanted to see you before you headed off for the seven seas! »

« We’re literally traveling through the same sea, what are you tal- »

« It’s been a long day, let me have this. »

Virgil tilted his head to the side, they had been in school for only three hours, what exactly did that make it a long day?

His thoughts were broken by the thundering of one of his teachers who announced that everybody had to get ready since they were going to leave in a matter of minutes.

« Alright then. » Roman murmured with a slightly sad sigh, he quickly replaced his defeated expression with a smile, careful not to be discovered. « I’ll have to leave now. »

C'mon say something. His heart begged for mercy as Virgil looked back up at him and he saw two bright gray irises, the sun’s rays hitting them from the side just enough to make them look like literal crystals.

Anything would do, take your chance, tell him!

His eyes fell to the figure right next to them, still standing there and witnessing every one of their interactions. Well, maybe next time.

Roman leaned forwards and wrapped his arms around his friend’s shoulders in a tight embrace that was soon returned a bit more weakly around his waist. He felt like he was holding on him for dear life more than anything.

His hand trailed at the nape of his neck and stroked his hair for some instants, in which Virgil tightened his own hug and laughed silently on his shoulder.

« I’m not leaving forever, you know? The time zone is not even that different. »

« I know but I’ll be lonely! »

« We both know that’s not true. » Virgil released the other and patted his shoulder. « You’ll be fine and you can text me whenever you want when I’m not in the ferry. »

Roman let out a fake annoyed huff, but smiled anyway. « Have a safe trip, Virge. » he backed away, still facing him while waving a hand.

Then he turned to the other boy.

« Keep an eye on him for me, okay? »

« Will do! »

At this, Roman sprinted away towards his class and could only smirk wider when Virgil called him out with a “Oh shut up, Princey.”

Virgil met his friend’s all-knowing look as he turned away from the spot where he saw Roman disappear, not realizing he had a soft expression written over all of his face.

« Why are you- no. Listen, it’s not what you- »

His friend ignored him, dancing around him. « You’re doing flips, read my lips, you’re in love! » he sang, while Virgil buried his face in his hands since for some godforsaken reason when he was embarrassed he tended to have a weird smile on his face that made him completely implausible. He hated that, it only made people tease him even further.

Which was exactly what happened in this situation, even after Virgil had smacked him behind the head lightly and started to get going towards the bus station as their teachers had instructed.

#prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #ts roman #sanders sides roman #ts virgil #sanders sides virgil #sanders sides au #fanfiction #prinxiety fic #sanders sides fic #ts fic #to tend thee is my care #purp's writings

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literallyprentissstwin · 5 years

Text

𝚒'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. - 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸

request: yes I no

characters: Sonny Carisi x Y/N Y/L/N

others: Lieutenant Olivia Benson, Detective Fin Tutuola, Detective Amanda Rollins, ADA Rafael Barba, mention of Peter Turner (the suspect), Dr. Langford as well as some nurses

category: angst, hurt/comfort, crime

warnings: talk of kidnapping, mention of torture, violence and rape, slight mention of PTSD

previous parts: part 1

A/N: thank you all so so much for the amazing feedback to the first part of this story <3 it literally means the world. i´m having a good time finally being back writing and your feedback is more than welcome. i decided to make this story a three parter since part 2 would otherwise have been too long. so i hope you´ll stick with me and this story till the end. this is my first ever SVU fic and i´m really happy with it so far. again, feedback is very appreciated. don´t forget that english isn´t my native language, so please be kind. i do make a lot of grammar or spelling mistakes and it´s okay to point them out :) now, enjoy reading part 2!

if you wanna be tagged in my upcoming SVU fics, let me know <3

It felt like the world around Sonny Carisi was moving in slow motion.

Ever since he and Amanda had found Y/N in that dark, cold, hell hole, the world around him stopped turning for a while. Things started to slow down and time seemed to pass painfully slow.

It felt like an eternity until the squad had finally arrived at the hospital.

And here they were, patientily waiting in that small, overcrowded waiting room. They´ve already been her for two hours; Barba had joined the group ten minutes after they arrived at the hospital. An uncomfortable silence and tension lingered in the air. Sonny, as usual, was pacing around the room, while Fin and Amanda sat next to eachother and watched their friend, knowing that there was no way that they could get him to calm down. Barba and Liv were standing at the door of the waiting room, trying to have a quiet conversation, while also eyeing their nervous friend.

The more time passed, the more people were leaving the waiting room. Sonny started to to become impatient. He stopped pacing for a minute before he started to speak.

“What is taking them so long?”

“I´m sure they´ll gonna be out here soon.”, Liv tried to reassure her detective, which wasn´t working.

“Nobody tells us anything. We´ve been here for almost five hours and yet, we still haven´t seen a doctor or a nurse who could update us.”, Sonny said, growing more and more frustrated.

“They are all doing their jobs, Carisi. Them not coming out and updating us doesn´t have to mean a thing. So let´s just calm down and take a seat. Your pacing is driving me crazy and it doesn´t help you or Y/N.”, Barba reasoned with the man. Sonny tried one last attempt to talk back to him, but decided against it, when he saw the ADA giving him his famous glare. Letting out a long sigh, the detective sat down next to Amanda, who put a comforting had on his shoulder. He just hoped and prayed that Barba was right and that everything would be alright.

It took another three hours until the long wait was finally over.

“Y/N Y/L/N?”, a doctor asked, as he entered the waiting room.

“Yes, that´s us. How is she?”, Carisi immediately wanted to know as he and the rest of the squad stood up from their seats and gathered around the young, lanky doctor.

“I´m Dr. Langford, I performed the surgery as well as the examination on Detective Y/L/N.”, he introduced himself before Olivia began to speak up.

“I´m Lieutenant Benson, Detective Y/L/N´s boss. How is she?”

“So far, her condition is still not where we want it to be, but as for right now, she´s stable. She suffered a concussion and she had at least five broken rips which had caused an internal bleeding which we were able to stop in time. Moreover, she has a sprained ankle and wrist as well as lots of bruising all over her body. Also, she´s been very dehydrated and malnourished.”, Dr. Langford started to explain.

“D-Did you find any signs for a sexual assault?”, Amanda dared to ask altough she already knew the answer to this.

“We did find signs for a sexual assault, yes. There´s a lot of bruising on her upper inner thighs as well as other indications for a forceful entry. We already did a rape-kit since Detective Y/L/N consented to it.”

“Apart from the physical damage, how is her psychological condition, Doctor?”, Barba wanted to know.

“Well, to put it out bluntly, she´s a mess. She´s very jumpy and flinches at every touch or every noise she registers. We needed to sedate her to actually examine her. Up until now, she hasn´t really spoken yet; she´s still in shock and seems to try to stay distant. I would recommend for her to see a shrink as soon as she´s well enough for it. She´s severely traumatized and it will take a lot of time for her to heal and to deal with everything that happened to her.”, the young doctor explained, giving the squad a sympathetic look.

“C-Can we see her?”, Sonny asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his face all pale and emotionless.

“Detective Y/L/N is still under strong medications and out for most of the time. We don´t want to put her under immense stress, but we also think that seeing familiar faces might help her cope with everything better. So yes, you can see her, but I would recommend only one to two persons at a time.”, Dr. Langford said before his beeper started to ring, “if you´ll excuse me now. Nurse Monica, could you show those detectives the room of Detective Y/L/N?”

The nurse nodded before she joined the group.

“Thank you, Dr. Langford.”, Fin said.

“It´s my job, detectives. If there´s still anything you need, don´t hesitate to reach out to me.”, and with this, the man disappeared.

“I think Carisi should go see her first.”, Amanda suddenly suggested to the group.

“Yeah, Carisi. Go and check on our girl.”, Fin agreed and patted the detective on his shoulder.

“You´re sure?”, Sonny asked, looking ath his friends.

“Go, Carisi. We´ll be waiting here.”, Liv said, carefully pushing the man towards the door of the waiting room.

“Okay...thanks guys.”, Sonny quickly told them, before he followed the nurse to Y/N´s room.

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

The first thing Sonny was confronted with when opening the door to Y/N´s room was silence.

Silence and the beeping of a maschine that helped Y/N with her breathing.

As he opened the door further, he finally saw her.

Unconsciously laying in her bed, almost as pale as the bed itself. She seemed so calm, yet so vulnerable.

Carisi saw all the bruises and bandages and his for once calm demeanour grew angry again.

How could someone hurt another human being so much? The detective could´nt wrap his head around it.

Carefully, he walked closer to the bed, grabbing a chair while doing so and taking a seat right next to her. Equally careful he grabbed her hand and held it in his own. He was so scared to hurt her even more, so all he did was holding this hand and he would not let go of it. Never.

“I-I´m so so sorry, Y/N. This is all my fault. I should have never let you walk home alone.”, he began to talk to her, the tears he had been holding in for so long finally starting to fall.

“I-I-I..I just hope you´ll be able to forgive me.”, he continued, “please...please wake up.”

A moment of silence fell between the couple, but not for long before Carisi decided to continue rambling.

“God, Y/N. I´m a mess. I mean what am I gonna do without you if you don´t come out of this okay? I can´t live without you. Please. I´m really sorry...”

“C-Can you please stop saying that?!”, a voice suddenly said and it took Carisi a minute to realise that this voice belonged to Y/N.

“Oh my god..Y/N. Can you hear me?”, he said, quickly moving closer to the bed.

“E-Every single word you said.”, Y/N hissed, finally opening her eyes, but immediately closing them again due to the light being too bright. Slowly, she tried to open them once again, blinking a few times to adjust them to the brightness of the light. Sonny scooted even closer to the bed, carefully squeezing Y/N´s hand, smiling in relief when he saw Y/N´s beautiful eyes wide open.

“Hey...”, he whispered, the smile never leaving his face.

“Hi..”, Y/N said back, a small smile tucking at her lips as well.

“How are you feeling?”

“Been better, but I´ll survive. How are you holding up?”

Sonny laughed. “You´re the one laying in that hospital bed and you´re seriously asking me how I am?”

“Well...yeah..”, the woman said.

“You´re unbelieveable, Y/N.”, Carisi still laughed, “but to answer your question: I´m better now that you´re awake.”

“Good.”, Y/N smiled, “I´m sorry.”

“Oh, Y/N, no. There´s nothing you need to be sorry for, you hear me? It wasn´t your fault.”, Carisi tried to reassure his partner, as he carefully sat down on the bed.

“Neither has this been your fault, Sonny.”, Y/N replied, looking the detective straight in the eyes at which he sighed, “thank you..for saving me.”

“That´s what friends are for.”, Sonny said and smiled at Y/N.

Another uncomfortable silence spread between the two detectives. There was still so much Sonny wanted to tell Y/N, but yet, he found himself unable to put his thoughts into words. Also, the hospital wasn´t quite the ideal place to confess your love to someone, no. This needed to wait. Sonny´s first and most important priority was to make sure Y/N was okay and safe.

For now, that´s all that matters.

“Where´s the rest of the squad?”, Y/N wanted to know, pulling Carisi away from his thoughts, breaking the unbearable tension between the two of them.

“They are all outside, waiting to see you. Even Barba is here.”, Sonny explained.

“Wow, I´m starting to feel kind of special now.”, Y/N laughed, but immediately winced at the pain shooting through her body.

“Woooah, you okay?”, Carisi asked.

“Ugh, yeah. Just peachy. I just forgot for a second why I´m actually in this hospital bed.”, Y/N answered through gritted teeth.

“I´m gonna get the doctor.”, Sonny said, immediately making his way over to the door.

“Carisi, no, I´m fine.”

“You´re far from being fine. Please, let me help you just this one time.”, the man begged.

Y/N sighed. “Fine, but only this one time and only because this pain is killing me.”, and with that, Carisi rushed outside to get a doctor to look after Y/N.

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

15 minutes later, the doctor was still in Y/N´s room checking her out, while the squad was, again, waiting in front of her door. Before Carisi could open his mouth to start argueing again, Dr. Langford exited the room.

“Doctor? Is everything alright?”, Fin wanted to know.

“Yes, Y/N is doing pretty good right now, all things considered. She´s in a stable condition. We gave her a mild pain medication considering the fact that you might want to get her statement later in the day. Her now healing ribs are causing her a lot of pain right now, but otherwise, she´s okay, physicall.”, the doctor explained, “she actually asked me to send in all of you. I know, I said one to two persons at a time, but she seems well enough to meet you all right now.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”, Liv said before all of them entered the room.

“Hey...”, Y/N whispered as she saw her whole team plus Barba come into the room.

“You have no idea how good it is to see you.”, Amanda said as she carefully came towards Y/N and tried to hug her as careful as possible, checking if this action was okay with her. Since she didn´t flinch away from her, Amanda took this as a sign to actually hug her friend.

“It´s so good to see you too.”, Y/N smiled, turning her gaze towards Rafael, “to what do I owe the honor of you being her as well?”, she joked.

“There´s no place I would rather be right now, Y/L/N. I´m glad you´re still with us.”, Barba replied truthfully.

“Me too, Counselor, me too.”

“How are you doing?”, Liv asked from her place at the foot of Y/N´s bed.

“I´m okay. The pain killers make the pain kind of bearable. But I´ll live.”, Y/N answered.

“Good, because the squadroom would have been pretty quiet without your rambling.”, Fin joked.

This went on for another 10 minutes. Everyone was happy to see Y/N alive and okay, they all just wanted to distract her from what happened to her, but they all knew that eventually, she had to talk about it and much to Liv´s dismay, she had to be the one to break the bad news.

“You know, Y/N, I hate that I have to do this, but in order to prosecute Turner correctly..”, Liv started to talk.

“...you need to know that happened, I know. I-I just didn´t think it would be that soon.”, Y/N finished Liv´s sentence, kind of getting anxious.

“I´m sorry, I really am.”

Amanda and Fin immediately got up to leave the room, while Carisi hesitated to do so.

“Sonny, it´s okay. You can go.”, Y/N tried to reassure her best friend to leave the room, although everything inside her screamed at her to tell him to stay. But was she really ready to let him hear the truth of what had happened to her?

“Are you sure?”, Sonny asked.

“Yes, it´s okay...really.”, Y/N reassured the man and gave him a weak smile, which he returned before he left the room as well. Y/N sighed.

“Okay, so where do you want me to start?”, Y/N wanted to know.

“Right at the beginning. Tell us about the night he got you.”, Barba answered.

“Well...Liv had told us to go home and get some rest since we´ve been trying to catch Turner for days now and we hadn´t really had time to rest. Carisi....I should have listened to him, he has been so concerned. He always talked about how it was unusual for Turner to go MIA and not kill within two days. He said that he thinks that Turner might have something planned. He was worried about me, because I fit the victimology perfectly, but I didn´t think any of it. He wanted to walk me home that night, but I´ve told him that I appreciate his concern, but that I could take care of myself. I reassure him that I would text him as soon as I got home...”, Y/N started to explain.

“But that text never got to him, right?”, Liv asked.

“Um, no. I didn´t even make it into my apartment. He must have followed me all the way from the precinct to my apartment complex. Turner got to me right before I could open the door to my apartment.”

“What happened next?”, the ADA wanted to know. Y/N started to get more anxious at this question.

“I woke up in that basement. He took my bag, my phone, my gun, my badge. He took everything away from me. The first time I saw him for real in front of me was when he first started the live stream for you guys. Right after that..he..he r-raped me for the first time. I-I tried to push him off of me, but he was just way too strong. So I just lay there and let him do this to me.”

“Hey, listen to me. You had to do whatever it took to survive this, okay? What happened to you was not your fault.”, Olivia tried to reassure her detective, carefully placing her hand on Y/N´s, at which the young woman flinched.

“Yeah..anyway..from there on, everything just passed by in a blur. He came to bring me food once a day, but I never ate it. This was when he started to get more violent. He thought I was ungrateful and a shame for my family and the NYPD. He took all his anger out on me. I didn´t even dare to fight back, I was just so freaking scared. I-I´m such a coward. How am I a detective for the NYPD who faces the filthiest of scumbags every day and yet, I can´t manage to fight back and protect myself.”, Y/N said, starting to get herself worked up.

“I think we should take a break right here.”, Barba suggested, sensing Y/N´s discomfort.

“I-I should have just listened to Sonny. For once in my life, I should have just admitted that I was wrong, but no. I refused to believe the people who cared about me and instead I put them through hell and back.”, Y/N continued rambling, getting even more worked up, so that her heart rate on the monitor started to speed up.

“Y/N, listen to me. This wasn´t your fault, okay? Please, you really need to calm down or otherwise, you´ll just hurt yourself.”, Liv tried to reason with her, but it seemed like her words didn´t get through to her.

Y/N had a flashback; she was back in that hell hole. Her heart rate continued to speed up. Liv stepped closer to the bed, carefully trying to put her hand on Y/N´s shoulder. Y/N flinched at the contact.

“NO. GET AWAY FROM ME.”, and with that, Dr. Langford and a few nurses came rushing into her room.

“You need to leave, NOW.”, the doctor yelled while a nurse pushed Liv and Barba out of the room before closing the door. Everything went silent.

Turner had been right. This was far from being over.

SVU tag list:

@lclb13 @playbucky @thefifthmaraud3r @misssirenlove @smolpersonbigworld @illegalcerebral @ultrarebelheart @briannareneea985 @imaginecrushes

#law and order svu #law and order svu imagine #law and order svu fanfiction #law and order svu reader insert #law and order fanfics #sonny carisi #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi fanfiction #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi reader insert #sonny carisi fanfics

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blakescoven · 5 years

Text

Undress Rehearsal (Duncan Shepherd x fem!Reader)

Summary: You got a fashion degree and moved to DC to work as stylist assistant. Unexpectedly you meet a familiar face during a meeting and it seems there’s a spark between you two...but things may take a wrong turn.

A/N: Hey lovelies!! This is my first fic EVER, so be nice! Also, forgive any grammar mistake (English isn’t my first language). Since the ending is kinda open, I guess I could write a PART 2. I’m so happy to finally be able to post this one-shot, even though it sucks! I’d appreciate every comment/reblog/DM about it and about how I could actually improve my writing. This is a sort of experiment! I’m still trying to figure out “my style”. Oh and this is important: bold type means flashback, italics are Y/N’s thoughts and // means a few days passed! ENJOY and thank you for reading! I love you.

Warnings: mean!Duncan (just a little), making out and veeery light NSFW, plot!twist, lol I think that’s enough(?)

Word count: 6.1K

moodboard by the talented @hecohansen31

You were late again. It happened twice this week. But how could that happen? You had always been a punctual and reliable person, at night you ensured that the alarm was correctly set and you never went to bed too late, afraid to not being able to wake up the morning after. So how could it be possible? Maybe because of your jetlag, but after almost a month, well, this had become a really bad excuse. Then perhaps, the frenetic pace was already affecting you that much, making you too tired to hurry up and get ready. This couldn’t happen again; you were jeopardizing your new dream job because of this straggler behavior. While you were running along the streets of Washington DC, those were your recurring thoughts. Your wheezing and the speeded-up heartbeats, pounding in your hears, were drowning out any deafening noise coming from cars and traffic, which always filled the city driveways.

From the early hours of the day, the avenues were swarming with people going to their office, each of them withdrawn into oneself, busy minding their own business with their smartphones, bringing takeaway breakfast on the other hand. You were way too anxious and distracted from running breathlessly; you had already bumped into three stupid human beings, slowly strolling down the sidewalk like damn sloths. Every single step was followed by a quick glance at your cellphone screen, checking the time and ensuring there was no missed call of your boss.

If you knew anything in this world, it was that you had to take this job seriously, dealing with the fact that your exhausting dues would have allowed your eager ass to work your way up and finally become a fashion designer. So, you didn’t expect any great satisfaction to come very soon. And starting from the bottom was really tough. After years of studying and a well-deserved university degree, you were prepared for whatever the future might have brought. Despite that, you didn’t expect at all to end up in DC, working as a stylist assistant. Sure, this would have opened the door to your real dream job, be part of the style department, designing collections for a luxury brand. You had tried your luck moving to New York, but you ended up broke, with no savings left and no available job opening. For this reason, you decided to take that chance here. You hadn’t made any progress till now though. You were new, yes, but your tasks and assignments were hardly restricted to bring coffee or running around the Capital with tons of garment bags for upcoming fittings.

Finally, after that insane 3km rush, without even stopping for a second - no, you couldn’t afford an Uber ride every time -, you arrived. Your feet hurt like hell, your cheeks covered with scarlet shades like the worst of sunburns and your breath coming in short gasps…and your hair, oh dear Lord, it was a mess. You were sure you were also sweating. Luckily, Richard, your boss, was quite nice to you and somewhat tolerant; he was sincerely impressed by all your efforts, skills and abilities, so much that he wasn’t utterly certain what you were doing there.

Five minutes past the established hour and, thank God, the client hadn’t arrived yet. You didn’t have much information or details about that meeting. You only knew that you had to help during a fitting for a client, extremely influential on the political scene. He needed a few new looks and outfits for public appearances, interviews, and fundraising events. Of course, you assumed he would have been an old middle-aged white man, with too much money to count and eager for power.

Mr moneybags is getting late tho. Too busy making grands? you thought.

Meanwhile, you were trying to look more presentable, also to not risk damaging the brand reputation.

“Y/N?”

Your calves burned and, in that moment, you thought that bringing extra sneakers would have been a good idea.

“Y/N?!”

Since the client hadn’t arrived yet, maybe you could sit down and rest for a minute on that super comfy booth near the mirror…

“Y/N!!!! HELLOO!!!” Your train of thoughts was abruptly interrupted by your boss’ yells, which suddenly caught your attention.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry, I zoned out! Forgive me, what can I do for you?”

The man, a healthy and elegant 40ish brunette, looked at you concerned “Y/N I know it’s hard to settle down, but I need you to be 100% focused today. The man who’s coming is a big deal for us, he’s a powerful figure in Washington politics! He has recently taken her mother’s place as CEO of the family company. So, I want us to make a good impression!” after saying that, he looked at you from head to toe, a bit baffled.

“So…” he continued “…I need you to – in that moment you really hoped you were about to receive a major task, finally a turning point – ..to run to the bar across the street and buy some coffee, and come back quickly!” All your expectations fell apart in a sea of disappointment. “Hurry up!”

You put on a forced smile and went straight to the exit.

After having waited in line for centuries, you figured that probably the client had to have arrived, and therefore, just as you had started your day, you came back running as fast as you could, to save time.

You were holding the coffee cups in your left hand, while you were struggling to turn off your phone, which had started ringing. Opening the glass door with your hip, you were still trying to silence the ringtone, this, without even minding where put your feet up. Ugh, mom, stop calling me...always the worst timing! you screamed in your own mind, frowning. Before you could slow down your steps, one of your heels didn’t grip well the lacquered floor, making you stumble and trip. A sudden change in your balance and you couldn’t avoid slipping forward, causing the not-so-angelic flying of coffee directly on the special guest of the situation.

Damn it.

And to make matters worse, you fell to the ground, cursing the day you were born. Hell no, it can’t have really happened to me. You had just made a complete ass of yourself. You would have rather sink below the waves into the oblivion.

“OH SHIT SHIT SHIT I-I’m so sorry! I-I don’t know h-how it happened!” you were apologizing, still keeping your eyes fixed on the once-full cups rolling down the parquet, next to your badly chipped mobile touchscreen.

“The floor must be slippery…please let me make it up to you, I ca- ” you stopped all of a sudden when you lifted your gaze, for the first time since you had stepped in. Standing in front of you there was the most attractive man you’d ever seen. His piercing blue eyes were fixed on you, like two burning flames almost forming deep holes in your soul.

It’s hot in here or it’s just me?

He was tall and his toned arms were easily visible through the once-white shirt. Now that expensive fashion piece was all covered by a huge stain of hot coffee. And it was your fault. You were speechless. Your attention all focused on the man’s features. Your gaze was busy running down those perfect shaped cheekbones and the sharp jawline. Oh boy, gods’ gift indeed.

Oddly familiar to you though.

You clearly remained to stare for too long to not be noticed, because the man himself broke the silence.

“Uhm, don’t worry” he seemed taken aback for a second “I’ll send it to the cleaners or I’ll throw it away, I don’t care” he said, immediately composing himself, while carefully unbuttoning the ruined shirt, with those long fingers... You were blushing. His low soothing voice sent shivers down your spine. But his tone was plain, no apparent emotion, he seemed almost indifferent, maybe even a little annoyed. Ah, pompous ass.

Your attention was caught by your boss, who, with a worried voice, while pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed, proposed him to choose another shirt among the others and take it as an apology gift. The man accepted, nodding with a crooked smile and with smug remarks about the needlessness of gifts for a man as rich as him.

Cocky asshole! You mused, with a roll of her eyes.

Anxious to change the subject, Richard, started the introductions. “Mr Shepherd, she is my smart – but clearly clumsy – assistant, Y/N” at that very moment that name awoke the memories in your mind.

No. It can’t be true.

“Well, nice to meet you” he remarked “Y/N”, repeating your name like he was tasting it on his own tongue “..or so.” he added, with a stupid smug grin on his breathtaking face. When they shook hands, you felt a sort of jolt and realized you had been holding your breath all this time. You remained silent.

That was the same man you met 6 months ago on the flight you took to go to New York, when you moved for the first time. It was him the influential man of the meeting.

Duncan-fucking-Shepherd.

Duncan. This name was the only thing in your mind right now, while you were lying on the couch, in your little apartment, with a glass of wine loosely resting on your lower lip. Oh my God, did he recognize me? Did he figure out it was me? How had he called me that day? Oh, his angel, right. Fuck.

Your head hurt, but you couldn’t help but keep on repeat your two first meetings again and again in your mind. The Duncan Shepherd from today was completely different, compared to the man you had encountered on that plane.

He hadn’t talked about himself very much, just spilled that he was a businessman traveling for work. You had immediately noticed how mature he was to be in his late 20ish. And incredibly handsome. And charming. And seductive.

Ok, stop.

You still couldn’t understand why you. Among all the attractive available women he could easily have, during all the time of the flight, he had been flirting with you. You. He made you feel sexy, desirable and safe, after a very long time.

It was the first class. You were there because of a lucky misunderstanding. While the plane was taking off, you two had a moment, since he saw you panicking. You had started talking for real only two hours after having left Milan. The conversation started casually, then developed into a flirty game. Little did you knew that a few hours later, you would eventually find yourselves making out so much intensely, whilst the rest of the passengers was sleeping with lights off. This wasn’t like you; you were strangers after all. Damn, you only knew his first name. But you couldn’t help your crazy attraction towards him. A sort of electricity, a particular connection that you had never felt with anybody else in your life.

You were staring off into space, completely lost in your inner thoughts, while biting hard your lip and fidgeting with the hem of your oversize t-shirt. You nervously swallowed and closed your eyes. Your hand began to move from the fabric and wander over your bare legs, brushing them with your fingertips. Throwing back your head and swallowing again, you frowned and sighed. You couldn’t make those thoughts disappear. He got under your skin and no matter what you did, you couldn’t shake him.

His soft lips on yours, hot and peachy, the trailing of his wet open-mouthed kisses along your throat and the series of marks he was leaving on your skin, on the way down your collarbone. Feeling the smile of the other against your lips as you two kissed. The best feeling in the world. His small moans when you had pulled his lower lips between your teeth, while his hands were touching and roaming all over your body, as if he wanted to memorize each spot, each curve, each part of you. “Baby I wish it was just the two of us right now, damn, I want you so badly” he whispered. God, if they had been alone, you’d have gone further for sure. You were both turned on, you could tell, especially from the prominent bulge on his designer pants. All you wanted was to climb on top of him, straddling his hips, panting in his hear and feel his hot breath all over you. Intense was the craving to undress him, feel his skin against yours. Shit, it was like a living a dream.

The meeting had been canceled and rescheduled for tomorrow. The situation was quite unpleasant. What you were supposed to do now?

Judgment Day had come. You hadn’t slept at all, all night spent tossing and turning between the sheets and looking at the ceiling. How were you supposed to act now? Should you have mentioned anything? What was really killing you, was the feeling that ‘your moment’ had meant nothing for him. Yes, after 6 months, you had gone over it, also because you had no idea how to contact him. But after seeing him again, all the buried thrills came rushing back. You absolutely needed to test the waters today. What did you have to lose? Well, your dignity maybe. If he wanted to, Duncan could have easily said something. And of course, a man of his status could have anything, or anybody, he wanted. Maybe you were overthinking, maybe not.

Since it was almost dawn, and the sun was peeking through the blinds, creating a delicate play of lights and shadows on the curtains, you decided you could actually distract yourself choosing what to wear for the meeting. You shouldn’t have done it. Your bedroom had become a battlefield, all your clothes scattered all over it, like some lifeless leftovers of the closet, now empty. Almost like a little bomb went off. You kept trying combinations on combinations, each time taking off the pieces and throwing them away anywhere around you, as if you were on the verge of a breakdown. It was still a business meeting; you couldn’t dress up too revealing or doll up too much. But at the same time, you’d never give up on being yourself and express your personality through what you wore. Respecting yourself was the most important thing. Self-love. However, this didn’t solve the problem at all. You wanted to appear at your best, challenge him, in a subtle way.

On your way to the office, an unexpected call tuned you away from your own thoughts.

“Richard! Good morning! Are you calling me for coffee? Because I’ve already stopped off at the bar, now tell me who is the best assistant in the whole world?! And I’m not even late!” your smile vanished as soon as your boss answered.

“WHAT?! What does it mean you won’t be there today?” Your heart skipped a beat and started pumping so much blood through your veins, that you felt as a heatwave was rushing inside of you. “W-well if you have family issues, we agree that it’s necessary to postpone the gathering..I-” your eyes widened at the realization that you’d be alone. With Duncan.

You almost fainted on the spot.

“I’m sure you can handle it on your own! You can still reach me with a phone call, if you ever need me. Plus, don’t you think this would be the right chance to prove yourself and finally level up, get noticed and considered for that vacant position in the style & design dep.? My money’s on you, girl!”

How could you blame him, though? He was always so encouraging.

You sighed through the phone, so he added “Look, it won’t be hard. Remember that Mr Shepherd is in your hands. We have to turn him into one of the brand advocates; he’s young, a self-made man, the best choice to promote the brand awareness. It’s up to you now.”

Wow, that’s very reassuring you figured, shaking your head.

“Ok, you can do this, I have to go now, let me know how it goes. Bye!” Fuck.

“W-wait! I can’t do that withou-” he has already hung up. Looking up to the sky and letting out a frustrating grunt, you allowed yourself a childish whine and mumbled a ‘why me’.

Now you were standing outside the building, trying to collect yourself before entering. You were wearing an oversized see-through blouse, tucked in a black knee-length skirt, and an *accent color* blazer with rolled-up sleeves, to complete the look. You were ready to fight. No more clumsy bullshit.

Breathe, remember to breathe you reminded yourself, looking at the elevator door.

You strode next to the receptionist’s desk, Tiffany, or, as you liked to call her, ‘Crazypants’; since her eyes were always so disturbingly wide open – Does she ever blink? – and her hair painfully pinned back, so tight that must have hurt her. She seemed a cross between a barbie and a psycho killer. As soon as you walked by her desk, Crazypants greeted you overly excited, calling you with her earsplitting high-pitched voice. You put on your fakest smile and replied,

“Morning Tiff, uhm, I wish I could stay and chat, but I have work to-”

“The client is already here. He’s waiting for you in the fitting room” she winked. Hell, you hoped your blushing wasn’t so obvious, you couldn’t even have a few minutes to be psychologically prepared. Well, maybe better pull off the band-aid.

“Thank you for warning me! I’ll be right there” you answered. Not even before your exams you felt all this pressure.

Why is it always so hot?!

Walking along the hallway as if you were going to your own execution, you found yourself in front of the door of the rehearsal room. You gently opened it and entered. Do you know when, at some point in movies, there’s a slow-motion moment with background music?! There it was. Precisely. He had his back turned, gazing the skyline through the glass wall. And the second he heard the clicking of a pair of heels, he turned his head, smiling at you and looking intensely at your figure. You were about to die for real now.

How could someone be so beautiful?

His hair perfectly styled, his hot stubble,... Oh, that stubble was your weakness. You could already feel it between your legs and…

“Hey hey, easy with that” he teased with his deep honeyed voice, pointing the take-out coffee cups you were holding. You winced and giggled

“I’ll never stop apologizing about that, ehm, incident…but if you want one, go ahead!”

You looked at each other smiling for a while, until you had to break the silence and eventually get down to business. “So, I guess it’s better if we start…Mr Shepherd, so then you’ll be free to go back to work”, he exhaled and nodded

“Oh please, just call me Duncan.”

You saw a sort of shift in his features. His face went blank. He adopted a bossier and intimidating position, like last time. Ok, maybe he just wants to keep it professional, I understand.

“When is Richard coming?” he questioned while taking his trench coat off. “To be honest, it’ll just be me today, but it’s all right, you’re in good hands” you slightly smiled. He sighed again and you rose your eyebrow, taking it as an unspoken insult.

“Is there a problem?”

“Well, yes, I didn’t come here to waste my time with a newbie assistant.” Your jaw dropped.

“Excuse me?”

“No need to get upset darling, this is what you are, after all” he stated shrugging. You were speechless; yes, you were an assistant, but the way he said that, as if you were a dumb zero…What an asshole.

“Oookay, since I’m here..let’s continue” he glanced at you, waiting for her next move. “I agree, you can change in the wa-” you paused; he was literally undressing in front of you.

“What? There’s nothing you’ve never seen...I guess” You were confused…was he teasing you or something? “You should be more professional, I’m saying it for you”, your rage slowly increasing and flowing throughout your entire body. He was a completely different man, with all those unnecessary mean remarks. He gave you mixed feelings. You would have punched him, but at the same time, contemplating his perfectly-shaped heavenly body, his toned muscles, his thighs..you wanted to jump on him, kiss him and be his, in every way possible.

“You’re staring.”

“W-what?! No. I’m waiting for you to finish undressing, so I can give you the first change to wear..”

“Sure.”

You’d already had enough of his attitude. “I suggest starting with this evening suit, since Richard told me you’ll attend a charity gala in a few days.”

“Hush, please, save it. I don’t need all your pointless suggestions. I can handle it by myself.” he seemed almost..angry? You didn’t know how to hit back anymore. Why was he acting like that, all of a sudden? He tried on a few different outfits while you were staying there, silent, shifting your weight from a leg to another, your eyes wandering through the room, your lips pressed into a thin line and your mind trying to figure out what was happening. Duncan, noticing the tapping of your fingers on your thigh, rolled his eyes and gave you an annoyed look.

Then he huffed “Impatient, uh?”

You were hovering on the brink of an outburst.

“Why don’t you do your job and bring me some water, or take notes, or whatever you get paid for?”

“My job is helping you find a set of appropriate clothes for various occasions, trying to create the right mix & match that suits your taste and personality...” you retorted in a plain tone.

“Oh, thanks for the not required explanation, Wikipedia..”

“..but I’m not stupid, I know what a fucking stylist does” he was pushing your buttons.

“If you’d allow me to do my job, instead of questioning me, I could recommend something..”

“No need to whine, baby girl…So do it, instead of staying there like a scared little girl.”

“If relying on someone to select your wardrobe really bothers you..why don’t you choose them by yourself?” you sassed, struggling to remain polite.

“Well, I’ve demanded the help of a professional, not that of a ‘coffee-bringer’…and I’m wasting my time here”.

Ok, that’s enough.

He was still a client, but for you being treated like that wasn’t acceptable anymore. “You know what? I don’t fucking care if I get fired after saying these words. But I’m done with your dumbass comments. You’re a douchebag. I’m trying to do my job and, just because you’re rich and influential, you think you can treat me like that. Like I’m trash?” you were finally giving in to an outburst “The saddest thing is that I really hoped you would remember me. About that moment we shared 6 months ago, on that flight to New York. But obviously, I’ve given it much thought. Turns out that I’m just one of many, aren’t I? I’ve been thinking about you for weeks and when I saw you again, it all came flooding back. I’m so stupid. It’s not your fault, I was wrong to think that day could have really meant something.”

While talking, you were struggling to hold back the tears, you weren’t supposed to look pathetic, but your eyes were already watering. “So, do me a favor: end this meeting now. I’ll call Richard and tell him to take care of you, since you do not believe I’m capable enough to fulfill your needs..”

“..oh and don’t worry about seeing me again, I don’t want anything to do with you! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.” you spat, entering the small wardrobe room, without bothering to switch on the light, hoping that your angry tears would have remained unnoticed in the darkness and that Duncan would have gone for good. So you started moving crutches on the clothes stand, to make room for those outfits to restock over.

Unexpectedly you felt an arm around your waist, holding you tightly. It was Duncan. He hadn’t left.

His body pressed against yours, you were paralyzed, his arms keeping a firm grip on you. What’s happening? You knew you should have pushed him back and kick him out, but something inside you decided against it. It was like a part of your dumb heart wanted to stay still in that position forever. You two remained silent, until he whispered in your hear, with his hot breath and his cologne filling your nostrils - a mixture of cinnamon, sandalwood and tobacco.

“I’m sorry..” he sighed. He sounded sincere.

“..I went too far.”

Now your own hands were resting upon his arms. You could feel the heat his body was radiating right now. With a honeyed soft tone, he murmured “Please forgive me, I don’t know what came over me. It’s just that having you standing here again, in front of me, stunned me. I didn’t know what to do and I misunderstood your demeanor. I thought you were pretending nothing had happened, or that you didn’t recall that day, or that you simply didn’t care.”

His hold slowly loosened, allowing you to turn around and look at him with narrowed eyes and a puzzled expression, without a word.

“Uhm, I’m not very good at communicating my emotions, but you’re right. I’ve been a dick. You didn’t deserve it, but I was overwhelmed by the attempt to suppress my own feelings. Since I saw you again,”

he paused,

“you are all I can think about.” he admitted, stroking your tear-stained cheek with his thumb, but you tried to resist him,

“I hope you’re not trying to play me, because otherwise I’ll smash that stupid hot smirk to the ground.”

“So do you think I’m hot, uh?!”

“You dumbass.”

“God, you’re so damn sexy when you’re mad.” he teased, coming closer.

“What?” you giggled. He stared at your lips “I just can’t stop thinking about kissing you right now…” and unexpectedly, his hand drifted to your hip, pulling you even closer. You inhaled deeply. You were against his warm chest, sculpted to perfection. Why must he be so perfect? You placed your hand against it, intending to push him away, but instead you left it there. You froze, from both fear and excitement.

You two stared into each other’s eyes and his breathing quickened as did yours. He slowly leaned in, so his forehead rested against yours. You closed your eyes. Your faces were inches apart now, and he lightly traced your lips with one finger. His other hand placed behind your neck, shortening the distance even more.

Your noses bumped and your mouths matched up slightly-opened, breathing each other’s air directly. He brushed his lips against yours and you freaking loved it. You loved the way your body melted into his. The way your lips perfectly fitted like two puzzle pieces. The way Duncan held you tighter and tighter. It sent shivers down your back. His only desire was to touch you, to move his hands under your layers and feel your smooth skin.

You two broke the kiss for a second to catch your breath. Then he pulled you in, claiming your mouth again, hungry and intense. Duncan lowered his hands down your hips, cupping your ass and dragging you impossibly close. You deepened the kiss swallowing his groan of pleasure as you lost into each other, no space between you two. His hands were exploring your body, while you grabbed his hair tightly to restrain your own moans.

Slowly, you started exploring each other’s mouths with your tongues. Sometimes sucking his lower lip and biting it a little bit. He started kissing your jaw and leaving hickeys on your neck. He didn’t want to let you go, so he pulled you again and kissed you so hard, with much more intensity. He squeezed you, suggesting that he wasn’t going to stop. You didn’t mind at all and continued making out.

He slowly put his hands under your blouse, trying to reach and unhook your bra, eager to run his fingers along your breasts and rub it. You began unbuttoning his button-down, seductively leaving wet kisses and love bites on his chest. He moaned. Then Duncan raised your blouse and took it off completely, so he could see you.

“You’re beautiful” he purred, and started massaging your chest and kissing it hardly, licking and biting gently your nipple. While Duncan was playing with your body, you could only keep on tugging his hair, making his moans vibrate against your body. Then he kneeled down kissing your stomach.

Both of you couldn’t silent your groans anymore, the entire room was filled by sexual noises. But you didn’t care at all. You knew where it was going. Duncan pushed you against a wall, grinding on you and you could clearly feel his hardness pressed against your body. You needed more friction.

“Jump.” he suddenly hinted, and used his veiny arms to hold you up by your thighs lifting you off the ground. You wrapped your legs around his waist. Your core was throbbing at that very moment.

But you were brought back to planet Earth right after; that divine feeling was ruined by a pesky thought that clouded your mind.

What if he’s just interested in sex?

He sensed your sudden slowing down. “If you want me to stop, tell me now,” he whispered. When you remained silent, he brushed his mouth against your temple,

“Or now.”

he followed the line of your cheekbone,

“Or now.”

now he was kissing your chin,

“Or—”

then your lips were against his, again. You kept undressing slowly, savoring the moment.

But that damn thought came back, stuck in your mind. And eventually it hit you. “Wait…wait” you said, trying to steady your breathing.

“What’s wrong angel? I did something wrong or..” he questioned worriedly. “No, not at all, it was perfect..but I don’t think this is right.”

“Wait what?! Why?” Duncan replied in disbelief.

“I’m not a yes girl, Duncan. I’m not looking for casual hookups, I really want to know you better and see where this leads us.” you smiled reassuringly, caressing his cheek. You were scared as fuck. Maybe he wasn’t interested in any kind of relationship, just random booty calls. But you had to take the risk. You wanted to.

“Uhm..yeah. I guess that sounds fair enough.” he chuckled and you released the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “How about a coffee date? I know a place, it’s quite secluded, to not attract the attention of press and journalists” you tilted your head and frowned,

“What do you mean?”

“Angel, I don’t want you to be targeted by newspapers, they aim to find some dirt on me and make every aspect of my private life public. I prefer keeping a low profile, and put you in an uncomfortable position is the last thing I would want.” “Oh, ok. I got it.” you were a little thoughtful, to be honest. But in that moment, you would have agreed with everything he was saying. You used every inch of strength you had, to stop and not go further. Not that there was anything wrong with that. You just wished to learn more about that handsome man in front of you; his desires, his passions, his values and aspirations.

“I’d better get back to work, they’ll wonder what happened to me.” he smirked. “Yeah, you better hurry up, then” you laughed, while putting your blouse on. “I’m gonna put aside the chosen clothes” you informed, but before you could leave the cramped room, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back in his arms, giving a last soft peck on your lips.

“How can I focus now, with the thought of you against me?!”

“You’ll have to make do with the memory..” you shot back “..for now.” you cooed, whispering in his hear.

The rest of the day went off without a hitch. You had exchanged numbers and with all those texts you were sending to each other, you felt like a schoolgirl again. Nothing could have ruined that sensation. Before going back home, Richard called you, questioning you about the meeting, not noticing your struggle to not make disconnected sentences or beat around the bush, to hide your embarrassment. Then, to thank you for having his back, he gave you another assignment: a high-society lady had requested a selection of gowns to choose, to attend a few fundraising events. Another important add-on for your CV. A few more efforts and they would have finally offered you the long-awaited position in the creative team.

The consultation had been set up two days later, you had to go to the customer’s penthouse this time. Ugh, lazy rich people. You rang the doorbell and right after you were greeted by a thin blonde girl, all fake boobs and tinted tips, wearing a dress that seemed closer to a long top, rather than an actual dress.

“Hey, you must be Y/N! Come in! I’ll be right back” she yelled. You came in holding the garment bag; you were shocked when you found out how actually big the apartment was: super modern, black & white themed and with some art hanging on the walls.

Uhm, de gustibus you muttered to yourself.

“Here I am, sorry for the waiting. I am Madison!” Why rich people seem so reluctant to share their last name with me? you mused, smiling to yourself.

“Let’s start, shall we?”

And then Madison took you to what has to be her large bedroom. Odd. That seemed more like a bachelor to you, but judging wasn’t your thing.

The fitting went smooth as silk. This Madison was a bombshell, every single dress fitted her body as it was sewn on her. For the upcoming event she chose a nude silk dress, that perfectly matched her skin tone. She looked pretty excited for the pick, so much that she started screaming and calling out loud, making you aware that there was someone else around.

“Muffin come here!!! I chose the dress!! It’s perfect oh my God! You must see it before I take it off!”

MUFFIN.

Seriously? Do not laugh, please, do not laugh.

You were biting her lip a little too hard. While Madison kept calling her…muffin, you decided to do something and began packing all the stuff back up into the bag.

“Oh finally, you walk so slow, babe…now, look! What do you think?” Before the man could answer she continued “Oh wait, how rude I am. Y/N, this is my fiancé...”

As soon as you turned around and lifted your gaze, your heart stopped beating.

“…Duncan!”

His smile soon disappeared too, replaced by a shocked and guilty expression, like a deer caught in the headlights. You froze in place.

You were trying to hold back the impending flood of tears, washing it away with your anger. A million different feelings rushed through you, but at the same time you couldn’t feel anything, just your own heart, literally breaking down in pieces.

“Do you already know each other?” Madison asked, noting Duncan’s surprise. You gathered all the strength left within you and stated

“Just one of the many customers.”

Then, lowering your broken voice, you sputtered a “Now I really have to go.”

Without saying anything more, you took the garment bag and run straight to the door, shutting it down behind your back. Right after, a teardrop rolled over your cheek, and your eyes started watering. Once that the first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. Before turning into a sobbing mess, you walked fast down the hallway, reaching the elevator and waiting for the doors to open up.

Before you could take another step, a large hand took you by the wrist, keeping you in place. You turned around and instantly pushed him back, trying to free yourself from his grip.

“Please,” he begged,

“Let me explain. Please, I don’t want to lose you! We have something..w-we can talk about it, please, wait!”

“Go to Hell” you snapped;

and then you shoved his hand away, entering the elevator. Stupid. I am so fucking stupid. You two looked at each other one last time, shedding tears. The eyes of both soaking blatantly. And then the doors shut.

That heartbreak felt like concrete drying in your chest.

________________________________________________________________

Tagging: (I hope you don’t mind BUT tell me if you want to be removed, I was just curious to know your opinion about it, if you'd like to read it) MUCH LOVE @ladynuwanda @hecohansen31 @michael-langdon-appreciation @sojournmichael @so-langdon @stupidocupido @sammythankyou @emmyrosee

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hysterialevi · 4 years

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Red Dead Rising | Chapter 3

Fanfic summary: 12 YEARS BEFORE RDR2 - Greed, money, and larceny. These are the only things Arthur has ever known; the only things he’s ever been taught. But when Dutch decides to hit a town called Harlow, what started out as nothing more than a plan to rob the local bank ends up igniting the events that lead to RDR2, and a 24 year-old Arthur is forced to confront his morality while the gang faces a terrifying enemy of their own making.

Point of view: third-person

This story is also on AO3 and Wattpad

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Author’s note: Apologies for any spelling/grammar mistakes. It was really late when I finished this and I don’t have the energy to review it lol. Hope you enjoy regardless though :)

TWO MONTHS LATER

APRIL, 1887

INDIGO PEAK

Scribbling down a few more lines into his journal, Arthur added some last-minute touches to his sketch of Indigo Peak, doin’ his absolute best to capture what was in front of him.

There was a whole array of purple mountains just sitting in front of this camp. They all sat in a majestic, uneven line right above the horizon and towered over a gathering of evergreen trees, separating the sky from the wildlife that lived in the fields and meadows below.

The white sun also hovered above the mountains in a thick blanket of blue-tinted clouds, and provided the landscape with an abundance of rays. They passed through the space between the summits like something out of a painting, and touched the ground in a scattered pattern, giving the grass a dotted look.

It was extraordinarily beautiful, in Arthur’s opinion. He had seen nature’s beauty many times before, but... it was just one of those things that never got old.

Unfortunately for him however, he absolutely despised his drawing.

“Dammit...” Arthur muttered, smudging some of the graphite out.

How did people do this? Arthur originally got the idea to try it from Thomas who was constantly sketching away in his own journal, but the man made it look so easy. His “doodles” were always so detailed and lifelike, and in the meantime, Arthur’s looked like someone drew them in the midst of an earthquake. Or, at least, that was how he saw it.

The young outlaw let out an annoyed sigh and shut the journal closed, deciding to take a break for now as he relaxed on a nearby tree stump.

He was planning to visit Mary, anyway. The woman sent him a letter not too long ago, and apparently, she was in the region with her family. They were attending the wedding of one of her cousins and were staying at a farm that her grandparents owned, just outside of Harlow. Arthur figured he may as well stop by and say hello before they left.

He just hoped he could avoid Mr. Gillis.

None of the people in Mary’s family really liked him to begin with, but that man was an absolute menace whenever Arthur was around. The young outlaw didn’t know what the hell it would take to please Robert, but the fact that the one person who wanted him dead was the father of his fiancée worried him, to say the least.

Arthur understood Robert’s concerns about letting his daughter marry someone who was a criminal -- any good father would -- but at the same time, he thought he had more than proved himself during his time with Mary.

Arthur never put her in danger, or allowed her to get involved with the gang’s activities. He kept her well away from anything Dutch or Hosea did, and even promised to leave that life behind once he and Mary finally tied the knot. There was also the fact that little Jamie seemed to enjoy having Arthur nearby.

He just didn’t know what else he could do to show Robert that he would be a good husband. Maybe he thought Arthur wouldn’t keep his promise? Or that he was too incompetent?

Well, whatever the case was, Arthur had a bad feeling that Robert was going to be more of a headache than he originally expected. He assumed the man would’ve warmed up to him by now -- the wedding wasn’t too far away, after all -- but that obviously hadn’t happened yet.

He supposed he would just have to keep trying. Mary always told Arthur to have hope, but the young man wasn’t so sure that’d be enough anymore. Mr. Gillis was probably the most stubborn man he’d ever met in his life, and if things didn’t work out between the two of them -- well, that was a bridge they’d have to cross when they got to it.

Arthur just prayed he wouldn’t ever have to worry about that.

Breaking the silence, the sound of people arguing suddenly drew Arthur’s attention away from the landscape and cut off his train of thought, leading him to see what all the commotion was about.

It looked like Thomas and Mac were currently stuck in a spat about something at the moment, and the latter seemed to cling to his companion while he strode around camp, desperate to get away from the quarrel.

“--I’m just saying,” Mac reiterated, “we can’t wait forever!”

“And we won’t,” Thomas replied, clearly vexed. “But we need to be careful.”

The two of them came to a halt, carrying on with their argument not too far away from where Arthur was.

“C’mon, Mac. We’ve been robbing stuff with Hosea for nearly a year now. You know how this works. We make a plan, we wait, and when the time comes, we strike. It’s always the same.”

The other man crossed his arms. “Yeah, but we ain’t never robbed a bank before!”

Thomas placed his hands on his hips. “All the more reason to make sure we do this right. We only have one chance to pull this off, Mac. You understand that? One chance. Ain’t no way we can come back from this if we fail.”

Mac let out a sigh, still not convinced.

“It’s been two months, Thomas. How much longer are we gonna wait?”

Moreau leaned against a tree, shrugging. “I don’t know.”

“And what happens if the law finds out we’re here? We gonna move camp again?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, what about Shaw? Has he made any progress with Farley?”

“I don’t--!” Thomas took a breath, calming himself down. “...I don’t know.”

Arthur jumped into the conversation before the two of them could argue any further and glanced over his shoulder, trying to defuse the situation.

“Hey, uh... you boys alright?” He called out.

Thomas dismissed the question, evidently just wanting to walk away from this.

“We’re fine, Arthur,” he answered, his tone saying otherwise. “Just... a tad anxious about the upcoming robbery.”

Mac scoffed. “If it ever comes.”

That caused Moreau to snap somewhat. “Yeah, well, you got any better ideas, Callander? Maybe you think we should just run up to the bank and shoot our way through the front door? In broad daylight. Oh, and while we’re at it, we could say hello to Sheriff Farley on the way back to camp! Maybe stay at his place for a cup of tea.”

“You know what, Frenchy,” Mac fired back, “you can be a real pain in the ass sometimes. Why Hosea even bothers puttin’ up with your bullshit is beyond me. He shoulda left you in New Aubertin as far as I’m concerned.”

“My bullshit?” Thomas repeated. “If I recall correctly, it’s always me who’s cleanin’ up after you and Davey! Like that hell y’all raised back in Mercy when Hosea first found you.”

“Oh, you’re really gonna pull that one out now--”

“--Gentlemen!”

Bringing the dispute to an abrupt halt, a guttural voice suddenly cut Mac and Thomas off right before things started to get heated, causing everyone to fall silent as a third party joined the scene.

Sauntering in their direction, Dutch casually walked up to the pair of outlaws with an amused grin on his face as he took a long drag on his cigar, chuckling at their behavior.

“You know, gentlemen, while I do appreciate a good ol’ fashioned fight like no other man alive...” he breathed out a puff of smoke, “...I’d rather you saved the killin’ for Farley’s boys. We got enough of a storm comin’ our way as is.”

Thomas sighed wearily. “Sorry, Dutch. It’s just... folk are gettin’ restless. We been sittin’ on this bank robbery for two months now, and Shaw has yet to give us the all-clear. Some are worried that we’re never gonna pull this off.”

Dutch smiled, pointing with his cigar. “Now, listen to me son, if there’s anything you’re gonna learn from your time with me, it’s that losin’ faith never did no one any good. This robbery is going to happen, and it’s going to happen soon. In fact, I actually received a letter from Benjamin yesterday evening. He thinks we can make our move at any minute now..”

Mac’s expression lit up with a newfound interest. “What? Really? When?”

The other man didn’t promise anything just yet. “I don’t know, but I’m planning to pay him a visit in Harlow. We’ll speak to him face-to-face, and see when we can get things rolling.”

Arthur picked up on that. “We?”

Dutch turned to him. “Yes. I need you to come with me too, Arthur. Apparently, Ben’s got a job for you to do. He asked for you specifically.”

Well, it looked like Arthur wasn’t going to see Mary as soon as he thought. The young man concealed his disappointment. “...Alright, I guess.”

“Good. Then you and I will take a trip down to Harlow, see what Benjamin wants, and in the meantime...” Dutch brought his gaze to Thomas and Mac, “make sure the camp stays in one piece while we’re away, would you?”

Thomas nodded. “Things’ll be fine when you get back.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Dutch put out his cigar and headed for the horses, beckoning Arthur. “Come on, son. We got a job to do.”

Slipping the journal back into his satchel, Arthur removed himself from the tree stump and followed Dutch at a brisk pace, sticking close-by while Thomas and Mac returned to their business.

It looked like the two of them had calmed down by now, and to finish things off, they exchanged some final words before parting ways for the afternoon.

“Hey...” Mac murmured apologetically, “sorry for, um... what I said back there. Y’know I didn’t mean it.”

Thomas let out a fatigued breath. “...Sure. I know.”

The hot-tempered outlaw threw in a quick offer. “...Wanna head down to the saloon later?”

Thomas repeated his answer, although a bit more relaxed this time. “Sure.”

Arthur grinned at the sight and chuckled quietly to himself, shaking his head in amusement. He supposed he and Marston weren’t the only ones who had a relationship like that.

There was no doubt that the little boy drove Arthur insane sometimes, but deep down, the young man knew he could never really hurt John. The kid was like a baby brother to him, after all. Dutch and Hosea pretty much raised them like siblings, and underneath all the havoc, Arthur couldn’t deny that he loved Marston.

He just wished he could get some alone time once in a while. Lord knew John loved getting attention.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt any plans you had,” Dutch suddenly remarked, bringing Arthur back to the task at hand. “I know I dragged you into this rather quickly.”

Arthur decided to be honest with him. “Well, I was gonna visit Mary, actually. She’s in the region right now, and wanted to see me before she left. But it’s like you said, we got a job to do first.”

Dutch approached Belle-Dame, unhitching her from the post. “Mary’s in Harlow?”

“Not Harlow,” he corrected. “On a farm outside of it. She’s stayin’ there with her father and grandparents.”

“Ah. Well, tell you what -- we’ll just have a short chat with Benjamin, hear what updates he’s got for us, and afterwards, you can go on and see Mary. Sound good?”

Arthur mounted Abitha, readying himself for the ride. “Sounds good.”

Dutch smiled at him, climbing on top of his own horse. “Thank you for bein’ patient with me, Arthur. I know this process has been long, but we are gonna do this. We just gotta push a little bit more, and soon, that bank’ll be ours to pillage. Now, c’mon. Harlow awaits.”

~~~~~~~~~~

THE GALLOWS, HARLOW

Falling with a sudden drop, the criminal collapsed beneath the gallows’ surface and dangled morbidly in the air, causing the noose’s rope to go taut while the crowd watched in both horror and fascination.

Harlow was normally a peaceful town, and even prided itself on having such a low crime rate, but recently, things had changed for the worse... and everyone could feel it.

No one knew exactly where this feeling came from or why it was appearing so suddenly, but for the past couple of months, a peculiar sense of dread loomed over the town like a dark cloud that just wouldn’t leave.

There were more thefts, more break-ins, more fights... and even more murders. The people of Harlow were either vanishing or dying one-by-one, and as a result, the entire town was on edge. Though, no one was quite as stressed as their beloved sheriff, Ronan Farley.

The man had the population of a small city depending on him. Harlow always looked to him for answers whenever things went wrong, and normally, he was able to provide.

With everything that was going on though, the sheriff was at a loss for words. Ronan truly had no idea why the town’s overall safety had deteriorated so quickly, and the possibilities of what could’ve been at the heart of all this made him shudder.

Farley had been dealing with outlaws for long enough to know that crimes like this didn’t just fall out of the sky. There was something bigger going on here. Something lurking in the shadows... but he couldn’t act on pure speculation alone.

If Ronan was going to get to the bottom of Harlow’s turbulent situation, he’d have to hope that the people responsible would expose themselves eventually. His hands were full enough as is, and without any proper evidence to conduct a thorough search, there was really nothing more he could do.

Farley’s hands were tied.

~~~~~~~~~~

A FEW MINUTES LATER

SHERIFF’S OFFICE

“That’s the third execution this week...” Deputy Leighton said with a discouraged sigh, gazing out the window. “What is happening to this town?”

Ronan removed his hat and placed it down on the desk, offering some reassurance to his friend.

“Keep it together, Andrew,” he reminded the young lawman. “This ain’t the first time we’ve dealt with this.”

“True,” the deputy conceded, “but lately, it just feels like... the wind’s shifted in Harlow. Like our luck’s run out. There are more criminals hangin’ from the gallows than there are bounties on our wall, and this idea that we can’t do our job as lawmen anymore is startin’ to propagate.”

Andrew took a seat at the desk, leaning back in exhaustion. “...Everything’s just a mess.”

Andrew Leighton was the youngest out of the four deputies, and also happened to be the newest, apart from Deputy Shaw. He had only been working with Ronan for about six months, whereas Buchanan and Sommer had been at the sheriff’s side for a couple of years.

Andrew was twenty-one years old, and in contrast to his fellow lawmen, carried a slightly more gullible demeanor to him, often making him a target.

He wasn’t naive, necessarily. Andrew had seen more than his fair share of violence in the past, but he had also been blessed with the curse of wanting to believe the best in people. He tried to maintain the idea that no man was truly evil, and that good nature was reflected in his appearance.

Leighton had a clean-shaven face, a pair of kind blue eyes, and a head of short blond hair that he always kept in a neat style. He wore a slate-blue Classic Frock coat on top of a white shirt and black vest, and adorned a black Paragon Town hat to go with his boots.

Sheriff Farley, on the other hand, sported a much rougher temperament. The hardy man had loose and short brown hair, a full beard, and a noticeably wounded look in his eyes. He was only in his late-thirties, but had a few extra wrinkles creasing his face due to all the stress and lack of sleep.

Ronan’s usual attire consisted of a somewhat weathered Gaucho hat, a dark-brown duster coat, and a scarlet-red vest that he wore on top of an opened white shirt. His boots were nothing fancy and bore no sort of design, but they were sturdy enough... sort of like the people he worked so hard to protect.

Gazing blankly at the empty jail cells, Andrew decided to put professionalism aside for a moment and posed a more colloquial question to Ronan, hoping to get his honest opinion.

“Hey, sheriff...” he said, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

Andrew softened his voice a bit, not wanting to announce their conversation to anyone in the vicinity.

“...What d’you think is really goin’ on in Harlow?”

Ronan paused at the vagueness of the question, not entirely sure what Andrew was getting at.

“What do you mean?”

The deputy took a second to clarify. “The deaths, the disappearances, the sudden lack in morale... Harlow’s had its rough patches, sure, but nothing quite like this. You think it’s all just a coincidence?”

The sheriff didn’t crack his shell just yet. “Coincidence or not, we’ll get through it.”

Andrew didn’t buy it. “...With all respect, Ronan, I’ve known you long enough to know you’re not that dense. I’m sure you out of all people can sense something’s wrong in Harlow. Something that... we might not be ready for.”

Ronan took a seat across from Leighton, hoping to relax for just a second.

“It ain’t our job to speculate, Andrew. When there’s a problem, we’ll deal with it. But we can’t go searchin’ for trouble when we don’t even know what to look for.”

“I know,” the deputy agreed, “it’s just... I hate this feeling, y’know? This feeling of sittin’ around, not being able to help the folk ‘round here. Everyone’s worried that we’ve got a rough road ahead of us, and they expect us to solve all their problems, but... we can’t even do anything without solid proof. I suppose I just wish I could do more.”

Ronan leaned forward in his chair, resting his arms on the desk.

“You’ve got a good heart, Leighton, but we’re the last people this town needs to be gettin’ paranoid. Stay vigilant, and remember to use your head. If anything does happen to Harlow, it’s gonna need all of us to protect it.”

Andrew nodded in reassurance, deciding to drop the subject for now. “...You’re right, you’re right. I can’t go startin’ trouble when there might not even be any. I gotta keep my head on my shoulders. It’s just... it’s difficult when you don’t actually have a target to shoot at yet. But... you’re right. We’ll be okay.”

The deputy stood up from his seat and headed for the door, leaving Farley to his thoughts.

“...Anyway, thanks for listenin’ to me ramble, sheriff. I didn’t mean to put all that on you. You’re a rock for more people than you realize. I just hope I can repay you someday.”

Ronan’s expression remained flat, but it was still clear to Andrew that he appreciated the remark.

“You don’t owe me anything, Andrew.”

Opening the door with a firm pull, the deputy wasted no time in getting back to work and headed out into the open, only to stop in his tracks when he found someone blocking the doorway.

It was a woman. She was about ten years older than Andrew, and a head of black hair that had been tied into a loose bun.

The dress she was wearing appeared rather simple in terms of design, but it still carried an elegant shape regardless. The upper part was a soft shade of white, and the bottom had been dyed mahogany brown. As a way to top it all off though, the woman had also tied a yellow scarf around her neck, and let most of it hang off her back like a miniature cape.

The young deputy recognized her immediately upon seeing her, and gave her a brief greeting.

“Afternoon, Mrs. Farley.”

The woman smiled in response. “Hello, Mr. Leighton.”

Allowing Mrs. Farley to step in first, Andrew waited off to the side until she was in the office before finally making his way out, shutting the door closed behind him.

As for Ronan, the man got up from his desk almost as soon as he saw his wife and approached her, concerned about what she might be doing here.

“Annabelle? Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” she replied calmly, sensing her husband’s uneasiness. “Everything’s fine. I just wanted to check up on you. You haven’t been home much lately.”

Annabelle glanced out the window, lowering her head in fear as a grim expression spread across her face.

“I... heard about the execution today. That’s the third one this week, isn’t it? Or is it the fourth?” She let out a sigh. “I can never keep up. The days seem to blur together now with all these hangings. Are you... doin’ okay, Ronan? All of this pressure can’t be easy on you.”

Ronan sat on the desk’s surface, sliding a hand down his face.

“I’ll be honest, Annabelle. I’m... I’m worried.”

Annabelle stepped in front of him and gently held his hand, rubbing it in a comforting manner.

“Worried? About what?”

The sheriff gestured to the door. “Well, Andrew was talkin’ about this just before you came in, but... he feels like Harlow’s luck has run out. As if our time as a safe hamlet is over. And I’m inclined to agree with him.”

That sparked Annabelle’s interest. “Really? Why? Has somethin’ happened?”

Ronan shook his head. “Nothing in particular, but it don’t take a genius to see that Elijah, Curtis, and Suzanna’s murders are connected. Accordin’ to the evidence we found, they were three separate cases with three different killers -- and we hanged all of ‘em -- but... something just doesn’t feel right. Even after all that chaos, it feels incomplete.”

Annabelle took on a more steadfast tone. “Well, what do you think is happening? Forget the evidence. Forget what people are saying. What does your gut tell you?”

The sheriff fell silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

“...I think there’s more goin’ on here than we can see. I think somethin’ big is coming our way. I dunno what, or how, or even when... but I believe the true killer is still out there. The murders just seemed too similar. Too easy to solve. It all felt contrived to me, and I believe Harlow won’t be safe so long as the real murderer is still roamin’ about. I believe it’s gonna get a whole lot worse before it gets better.”

The woman furrowed her brows in anxiety, mindlessly tightening her grip.

“...You’re frightening me, Ronan.”

The man snapped out of his suspicions for the time being and put them aside, bringing a loving hand up to Annabelle’s face.

“I’m... I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to scare you. Things have just been tense around Harlow these past couple of months. I guess I needed to get that off my chest more than I realized. But don’t you worry. I’ll be home tonight. Before you go to bed.

Annabelle beamed at that, afterwards pecking a kiss on Ronan’s cheek. “Good. I miss you.”

The sheriff chuckled softly at that. “I miss you too.”

Mrs. Farley took a step back, still grinning from their conversation. “Well, I’ll let you go now. I’m sure you have many things to attend to. Just... be careful, okay? Harlow needs you now more than ever. And so do I.”

Ronan nodded firmly. “I will. The same goes for you.”

“Of course.”

Annabelle wandered closer to the door, offering some last-minute advice to the troubled sheriff before she left.

“These are strange times, Ronan. The only way we’re gonna get through them is with each other. Don’t forget that.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A WHILE LATER

THE BLUE BRONCO SALOON, HARLOW

Sitting on top of a barrel, Arthur avidly sketched in silence while Dutch slowly paced around in boredom as the two of them stayed patiently behind Harlow’s saloon, waiting for Benjamin to turn up.

It had been quite a long time ever since Arthur last saw Ben. The man visited their camp occasionally to keep Dutch updated on things, but Arthur couldn’t remember the last time he and Ben actually sat down together and just... talked.

He wondered what he looked like now. What he was doing. How he was getting on.

Sure, Ben wasn’t always the nicest man, or even the most righteous, but as strange as it sounded, that was one of the reasons why Arthur liked him. To him, it made Ben seem to more genuine.

He may not have always been the most eloquent with his words, and sometimes he straight-up tried to avoid people, but Arthur knew that deep down, Ben never worried about hiding behind some sort of pretense.

He said what he meant, and he meant what he said, so there was never any doubt whenever Benjamin expressed his thoughts. Ironically though, he was the one Dutch chose to act as somebody else.

Arthur didn’t know why Dutch thought he’d be the best person to work as a mole. Ben never struck him as somebody to go undercover like this, but despite Arthur’s concerns, Dutch seemed to have no skepticism surrounding Benjamin’s capabilities. According to him, he was the “perfect” man for the job.

Arthur just hoped everything would turn out okay. The gang had worked so hard and for so long to get this robbery done, that for something to go wrong now would’ve been a major setback.

The folks back at camp were nervous enough about robbing a bank for the first time, and Arthur didn’t even wanna think about the chaos that would ensue if their plan failed.

It was like Thomas said. They only had once chance to get this right, and there was no room for impulse. They needed to focus.

“Whatcha workin’ on there, cowboy?” Dutch asked, making Arthur pause mid-sketch.

“Drawing.” The boy answered simply.

His companion smirked. “Oh? Drawing what?”

Arthur shrugged. “...Things.”

“That so? What kinda things?”

The young man gestured aimlessly at their surroundings, admittedly somewhat shy to talk about it. “Y’know, stuff. That we see. Horses, people, trees.”

Dutch chortled humorously at that. “Oh, okay.”

Arthur sighed. “Look, it ain’t nothin’ fancy, alright? I just do it when I’m bored.”

The other man’s grin only grew wider at his annoyance. “Well, please, don’t let me disturb you. Carry on with drawing your... ‘things.”

The young outlaw mentally groaned to himself, returning to his work.

Just before he could start sketching again however, a third person walked into the scene, causing both of them to divert their attention.

“Gentlemen.” Benjamin Shaw greeted flatly, strolling in their direction.

Benjamin was a scraggly-looking man with sunken cheeks due to his growing addiction to alcohol, and displayed a collection of small scars on his face, the most prominent one being a thin, horizontal gash that sat just above his left brow.

As for his hair, it was chocolate-colored and reached long enough to touch his shoulders. In terms of style though, the strands were rather tangled and messy, and his facial hair wasn’t anymore tame.

Benjamin had nothing more than a prickly layer of scruff sticking to his jawline, but there was a slim gap in his mustache from another scar that sliced downwards across his mouth.

On the topic of clothes though -- at the moment, Benjamin was wearing a black Collar Overshirt with a hickory-colored leather jacket that made his badge stand out like a beacon in the night, and he adorned a dark pair of trousers as well as some Sleeked Riding boots to match the Stalker hat that he always wore.

Overall, he looked pretty much the same compared to when Arthur last saw him, and that made the young man happy.

“There you are!” Dutch replied excitedly. “How the hell are you, my boy?”

Benjamin didn’t appear to return the enthusiasm. If anything, he looked exhausted.

“I feel like shit and I look like shit, but I got some information you might be interested in, Dutch. Though, it ain’t all good news, I’m afraid.”

Dutch’s expression dimmed instantly at the news. “Straight to the point, I see. Very well, then. What is it?”

Benjamin lowered his voice. “Well, the good news is I think we’ll be able to hit the bank soon. Ronan and his deputies trust me. It took some convincing, believe me, but they finally see me as one of their own.”

“Extremely well done, Ben. I knew you was the right feller for this job. When do you think we’ll be able to rob the bank?”

The “deputy” thought for a minute. “Give me... one more week. I’ll be able to get things rollin’ by then.”

Dutch switched to a more serious tone. “Just one more week? Are you certain? We don’t wanna rush this.”

Benjamin insisted. “I’m certain. I’ve got the whole town on edge with a string of recent crimes, and tensions are startin’ to build. Now is the time to do this. If we wait too long, this may not work.”

The other man nodded in understanding. “Okay, then. I trust your judgement. One more week and then we’ll finally hit this goddamn bank. I’ll let the people back at camp know. Now... what’s the bad news?”

Shaw leaned in a bit more, making sure that no one else could hear them.

“I did some investigatin’ into Sheriff Farley, and it turns out, that ain’t even the man’s real name.”

“What?” Dutch questioned, taken aback. “Then what the hell is it?”

Benjamin was quiet for a second, almost like he was worried to see his friend’s reaction.

“O’Driscoll.”

Arthur’s eyes popped wide open. “You’re shittin’ me. The sheriff of this town is an O’Driscoll?”

“Not just any O’Driscoll,” Ben clarified. “He’s Colm’s older brother.”

Dutch’s face scrunched into a glower. “How d’you know this?”

“I overheard Ronan and his wife talkin’ about it,” Benjamin explained. “Apparently, he changed his name to ‘Farley’ many years ago ‘cause he didn’t wanna be associated with the O’Driscolls no more. Sounds to me like he and Colm didn’t get along.”

“So, he’s not working with the gang?” Arthur asked.

“No. I don’t think so. Ronan’s got a strong hatred for outlaws. I highly doubt he’d ever work with them.”

“Still,” Dutch added, “it’s something to think about. When we first arrived at New Aubertin, Thomas told me there had been rumors of the O’Driscolls being in this region. If Colm’s got any affection left for his brother, and he finds out what we’re doing -- we need to be extra careful from here on out.”

“Agreed.”

“Well,” Dutch said, heading back to his horse, “I’m gonna return to camp. Let ‘em know about the plan. In the meantime, Arthur will help you out with that job you mentioned. Stay safe, you two. And keep a low profile. We’re this close to robbin’ that bank. We ain’t botching it now.”

Taking his leave, Dutch removed himself from the saloon’s vicinity and rode back to camp like a bat out of hell, eager to deliver the good news to the gang as the sun steadily began to set.

Meanwhile, Arthur stayed behind with Benjamin and simply remained seated on his barrel while the other man found a comfortable spot next to him, leaning against the saloon’s wall in a casual manner.

“So...” Arthur began, “what was that job you had for me?”

Ben took off his hat, wiping some of the sweat off his forehead. “There was no job.”

The young man raised a brow. “What? So why’d you ask Dutch to bring me here?”

“Because you’re one of the few people I like to talk to, and I need a break from this mess.” Benjamin quickly lit a cigarette, offering one to Arthur. “Anyway... how’ve you been? Things goin’ good at camp?”

Arthur took the cigarette and waited for Ben to light it, continuing the conversation. “As good as they can be. I’m plannin’ to visit Mary later. Apparently, she’s in the region.”

The other man’s face sagged with obvious disapproval. “Ms. Gillis is here?”

“Yes. You mean to tell me you still don’t like her?”

Benjamin put out the match. “It ain’t that simple, Arthur. Mary’s a sweet girl -- I ain’t suggestin’ otherwise. I just don’t know how serious she is about marrying you.”

Arthur couldn’t deny that he struck a nerve. “What do you mean by that? She said yes, didn’t she?”

“Well yeah, but how long before that dusty, old shithead father of hers gets in the way? You really think he'll have no influence on Mary? He’s already tryin’ to put your head on a pike as it is.”

The young man let out a cloud of smoke. “Mary loves me, Ben. And I love her. Nothing’s separatin’ us. Besides, what her father does ain’t her fault. I really don’t understand why you and Grimshaw dislike her so much. ”

Benjamin sighed in defeat. “We’re just lookin’ out for you, Arthur. You’re a good man. Much better than a lot of us. We don’t wanna see you get hurt. But... if you trust her, then I guess it wouldn’t hurt if I did too. Just don’t expect me to weclome her with open arms anytime soon.”

Arthur picked up on Benjamin’s agitated tone, suddenly worried about his friend’s well-being. This wasn’t just about Mary... was it?

“Hey...” he said, speaking more softly, “r’you good, Ben? I mean, you’ve always been an angry bastard, but you seem especially irritated today. What’s goin’ on?”

Thinking to himself for a moment, the deputy remained quiet and ignored Arthur’s question as he thought about what to say next, clearly conflicted about something.

It was unusual for Ben to be so reserved. He wasn’t a social butterfly by any means, but... even then, this sort of behavior was odd for him. Normally, he’d crack a joke or two -- maybe throw in a hint of sarcasm here and there, but today, he was completely serious.

It made Arthur suspect that this whole job was having more of a toll on Benjamin than anyone in the gang truly understood. Dutch did kind of force him into this, after all, and Arthur really had no idea what sort of experiences Ben was going through in order to get the gang where they were now.

Arthur just hoped that Ben wasn’t angry with him personally. It was no secret that Dutch favored the young man over anyone else in the gang, and part of Arthur couldn’t help but feel as if that was what got him out of doing this job, despite the fact that Hosea originally planned to send him or Thomas.

Just what was going on?

“...Y’know what, Arthur,” Benjamin finally said, sounding far more drained than before, “I won’t lie to you. These past two months with Ronan and his men... they’ve opened my eyes to some things. Things that... that make me question everything I’ve done in my life.”

Arthur turned to face him. “What d’you mean?”

Shaw looked at him with a guilt-ridden gaze, taking a drag on his cigarette.

“...I’ve done some terrible stuff throughout the years, Arthur. Stuff that even you don’t know about. I’ve hurt people like it was nothing, killed others for the sake of money, and even turned my back on a few folks who loved me just like you and Dutch do. But... after workin’ with Farley, I’m not sure that’s the man I wanna be anymore.”

Arthur quirked a brow at the statement. “Wait, are you sayin’ you wanna become a lawman for real?”

“Not a lawman,” Ben corrected, “but I dunno if I’m gonna be returning to the gang after this robbery. I’m thinkin’ of maybe going my own way. Starting a different life with the money we take, while I still have the chance. I’m... I’m sorry, Arthur. I probably should’ve said something sooner.”

The young man protested. “You can’t leave, Ben. We need you in this gang. Not only are you one of the best people we’ve had, you’re also my friend. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Benjamin flipped the subject to him. “And what about you? You’re gonna be a husband soon, Arthur. Possibly even be a father someday. You can’t stay in this life forever. It’s gotta be left behind eventually if you wanna be there for your family.”

Arthur felt admittedly somewhat cornered by the response.

“I-I know. And I’ll leave it behind when the time comes, but I still owe it to Dutch to stick with him throughout this whole thing. He saved my life. Yours, too. You’ve said it yourself.”

“Yeah, but my life wasn’t worth savin’ when he first found me. I wanna make sure that it is before I go.”

Somewhat overwhelmed by Benjamin’s sudden confession, Arthur gave the man nothing but a concerned gaze in response and simply sat there with a cigarette in his hand, watching the smoke dance from its tip as it slowly burned away.

Meanwhile, Benjamin threw his to the ground and swiftly stubbed it out with his boot, marking the end of their conversation.

“Do me a favor, Arthur,” he said before returning to his work. “Don’t become the same man I was. When the time comes, make sure you do what’s right.”

Arthur wasn’t sure how to take that advice. “It ain’t always that easy, Ben.”

“I never said it would be easy,” he countered. “In fact, it’s probably gonna be a goddamned nightmare before any of this blows over... but it’ll be worth it. So long as you do the right thing. Remember that.”

With that being said, Benjamin walked off into the busier parts of town just as more people started pouring out of the different establishments around Harlow, ready to go back home for the evening.

He threw a casual wave over his shoulder, saying one last goodbye.

“Take care of yourself, Arthur. Lord only knows what the future holds.”

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