#sorry for my absence I got a tattoo on my stomach and couldn’t sit

[boxalienist]

“Every person Obi-Wan ever truly loved:

Anakin, Satine, Padmé, and Qui-Gon himself came to a terrible end.

Three of them died before his eyes;

The other fell to a fate so bleak that death would've been a gift.”

- Star Wars: From a certain point of view (Elizabeth Schaefer)

Art Reference: Day and the Dawnstar - Herbert James Draper (1906)

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[flameohotwife]

For the prompt thing, maybe 40 or 43? Maybe a combo of both?? I'll let you decide!!

40. "You are crushing me right now."

43. "You're an idiot" (which I kind of combined with 7. "You're an idiot." "But you love me." because why not)

From this fluff prompt list. Rated G-Tish. 1k words.

Katara was pacing back and forth in the tiny Middle Ring apartment she and Aang shared when they visited Ba Sing Se. King Kuei had tried to insist on an extravagant house in the Upper Ring, but they had both refused, partially due to Aang’s minimalist nature and partially because Katara spent most of these visits working at clinics in the Lower Ring, so their apartment was perfectly situated for them both to get to their jobs easily.

Katara stopped at the window and observed the darkening sky. Stars were just beginning to twinkle to life up above, and the rising full moon was making her antsier than normal. It wasn’t necessarily unusual for Aang to be out this late, but on her way home from the clinic today she had heard about an incident at the palace. Nobody seemed to know the details, but each story she overheard became wilder and deadlier than the last, and the uncertainty was causing her heart to race. She had rushed home only to find emptiness. Empty rooms. Empty tea cups leftover from breakfast, still sitting on the table. Empty apartment. Empty pit in her stomach.

Her nervous energy finally bubbled out and she couldn’t stop moving; first clearing the table and washing the dishes, then arranging their belongings and scrubbing the counters, then sweeping the floors, then pacing. She trusted Aang to come home to her every day. This was all part of being the Avatar’s girlfriend (the Avatar’s partner, really--they were everything to each other. It was only the world who saw her only as his girlfriend, as they were not yet betrothed). He would always have duties to the world. Sometimes she could be by his side, but sometimes she would have to let him take care of things on his own, and she always trusted him to make the right choices both for the world and for them. But it didn’t stop the worry.

She was just gathering her things to leave their now-spotless apartment--thinking she could head to the palace herself to see if they needed a healer--when the door swung open and Aang appeared. His robes were disheveled and maybe a little singed, but he was walking on his own and she couldn’t see any blood. There was a clatter as she dropped her bag and keys to the floor and rushed to him, relief coursing through her.

“Hey, Sweetie--OOF!” Katara clung to him like a spidermonkey. She could feel the exhaustion in his muscles, even as his heart still raced with energy. It was the weariness of continuing to fight battle after battle, either physically or in the meeting room. Her heart ached at his lost childhood. He shouldn’t even know he was the Avatar yet; his sixteenth birthday was still months off, and yet he spent his days (and many of his nights) cleaning up the messes of a century-long war. Katara knew that despite the progress he’d made with his chakras, he still held some guilt over his prolonged absence from the world, and that he attempted to atone by being everywhere at once. An impossible task. She squeezed him tighter.

“Katara,” he gasped, trying to wriggle free from her vice-like grip. “You are crushing me right now.”

“Oh,” she said. “Sorry.” She smoothed her dress and discretely inspected his appearance for injury. “What happened, Sweetie? I heard so many rumors…”

“Everything’s okay.” Aang ran his hands down her shoulders and arms as he spoke, trying to relieve some of the tension there. “Some rogue Ozai supporters thought they’d try to assassinate the Earth King and take over Ba Sing Se, but they were subdued pretty easily. Just some minor damage to the palace but nothing too terrible. Kuei is a little shaken, but fine. Nobody was injured. Well… maybe a couple firebenders got hurt by the rock shackles. And their pride. That was definitely hurt.” He smirked down at her. He had only outgrown her in height in the last few months, and she was still getting used to having to look up at him when they were this close.

“You’re an idiot,” she joked, rolling her eyes. She would never admit it out loud, but that cocky little attitude of his that he always had after a win made her heart flutter. She could tell he was still riding the adrenaline rush from the battle and needed an outlet. She needed one, too, frayed as her nerves were from worry, so she snaked her arms up his chest and around his neck, pulling him down to her.

“But you love me.” His eyes twinkled with something mischievous and he dipped to kiss her deeply, threading his fingers into her hair and pressing her against him once more with a hand on her back. Katara caressed the tattoo down his neck, arching into him when he shuddered.

“You’re right,” she said breathily when they finally parted. “I do love you.” She pulled him back down for a chaste kiss on the cheek, and he blushed, melting her heart all over again. She couldn’t stop smiling. They’d been together for years now but his face still reddened every time she did that, like he couldn’t quite believe it.

“I’ll always come back to you,” he said quietly, reading her subconscious worry. He leaned his forehead against hers gently, and the air was thick with their love as they stood in the entryway, door still open and forgotten. “I know it’s scary sometimes with all the attacks, but I want you to know that the thought of you keeps me going and will bring me back every time. I couldn’t do any of this without you. You’re my anchor to the world and to this life, Katara. I love you so much.”

“Aang,” she whimpered, and leaned up to kiss him again, pulling him impossibly closer. Both their faces were wet, but their hearts were full. They would always come back to each other. They were each other’s home in a world that had destroyed theirs. Each other’s tether in a life that was constantly threatened. They could find safety and comfort in that knowledge, and in each other. She pulled him fully into the apartment and shut the door, determined to take refuge from the outside world in his strong arms for a moment. An hour. A lifetime. Just them.

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

Soulmate September

Series Summary- a collection of one shots exploring different ships and au concepts. The list I created and am following can be found here.

Day Three: A Storm of Stars

 Summary: Soul tattoos don’t fill in until the other person knows without a doubt that their partner is the one, when everything they are become so ingrained in each other’s lives that their souls become entwined. For Virgil and Logan, this doesn’t happen until well after they’ve been married. When the moments do arrive however, they both know they could never be happier.

Warnings: none, If there are any please let me know!

Ships: Analogical (Virgil x Logan)

Prompt: Tattoo that becomes colorful once you meet soulmate

WC: 2645

AO3

Logan’s eyes snapped open as a loud crack of thunder shook the house, rain pelting against the roof and making the tiles creak. His popping joints added to the symphony as he stretched his way into a sitting position. Reaching over to the bedside drawer he fumbled a bit before finding the small remote and clicking on the web of fairy lights strung in the far corner, immediately bathing the room in a pleasant blue glow. He flipped his pillow over to the cool side and took a second to fluff the other pillow a bit, moving it over to be closer to his and smoothing the bedsheets. 

The motions were automatic after so many years of practice, going back to he and Virgil’s first sleepover when they were still guaranteed a juicebox and cookies after school. It had stormed then too, Logan waking up to find his bed crowded with a shaking Virgil and his trusty stuffed tiger, who though was quite courageous had realized she was no match for a storm and had convinced her charge to seek shelter with Logan instead. Smiling softly at the memory Logan settled down to wait. He knew as his husband had grown older he wasn’t afraid of storms anymore so much as his anxiety ran with endless possibilities of what they could do to them or the house- which Logan was often inclined to agree with but played his role of devil’s advocate for the sake of Virgil’s well-being.

Right as he was beginning to wonder if he should leave to go and collect Virgil, the floorboards in front of his door squeaked in protest. A moment later a figure bulky with sweatpants and a hoodie slouched into the room, quickly shutting the door behind him and practically diving into the bed and under the blankets. The bed springs creaked along with the roof tiles as they both fidgeted and fussed trying to get comfortable, Logan biting back a small laugh as Virgil nosed his way underneath his chin. His soft hair tickled Logan’s lips as he pressed a kiss to the top of his head and wrapped his arms around him. Finally they were still, Virgil’s breathing slowly matching his own as he made sure to take deep calming breaths.

The rain was already quieting, the storm moving on and leaving the two night owls to their bubble of peaceful warmth. Logan readjusted slightly as Virgil snuggled in further, hoodie sleeves riding up as he snaked his arms around his waist in an attempt to pull them closer. Logan did laugh at this, planting another kiss firmly on the other’s forehead.

“I think if you squeezed any tighter we’d fuse, stormcloud. How are we supposed to compose an email when our absence excuse would be cuddling too hard?”

“No such thing,’” Virgil mumbled. “I’ll cuddle you as hard as I want and they’re just gonna haftadealwibit.”

The last half of the sentence trailed off into near indecipherable gibberish but Logan understood well enough. “You are exceptionally adorable when you’re tired. As much as I hate that storms cause you anxiety, I'm glad that nothing else has changed.”

He grinned as the side of his neck where Virgil’s face was pressed against warmed and quietly congratulated himself through the disappointment that he couldn’t currently see Virgil’s crimson face. ‘Still got it’ he thought to himself as he wiggled a bit to try and find a comfortable spot where Virgil’s rather bony arms weren’t poking into his ribs, failing miserably until he managed a sigh. “I’m sorry stormcloud, I’m getting a bit of a cramp. Why don’t you lay on top of me instead; that’s comfortable for you as well isn’t it?”

Humming in confirmation, Virgil leaned back and let Logan flip onto his back. A moment later he let out a small groan of surprise as Virgil flopped solidly onto him, burrowing into his chest and holding Logan tight by his sides. Smiling, he brought the blankets up over them both and carefully tucked them in, bringing his arms out and resting them on Virgil’s shoulders to make sure it didn’t slide off. 

“Thank you for always doing this.” Logan scrunched his brow at the frustrated tone in Virgil’s voice. “And don’t you dare say ‘why wouldn’t I’ because you always ask and I always say it’s because I’m too old to be afraid of storms and then you logic your way around me because I’m too tired to argue. This is just something I always thought I’d grow out of.”

“Sometimes we grow out of fears, sometimes not. The ones that linger aren’t something you can help or should blame yourself for.” Getting no response other than a frustrated huff, Logan continued, beginning to hum and rub soothing circles on his back. “Whether the fear is rational or not- and whether or not the threat is real- I will always be here to protect and support you however you need. Seeing as I’m not exactly in the best shape for fighting crime or fending off rabid dogs, comforting you through a storm is something that I love that I’m able to do. And I will continue to love doing it because I love you and would rather you be here with me seeking comfort than by yourself too stubborn to ask for help.”

“Logan?”

“Yes, Virgil?”

“You’re making it really hard to be edgy and self-deprecating right now.”

“Heaven forbid.”

Virgil snorted, knocking the top of his head gently into Logan’s chin until Logan sighed in mock exasperation, craning his neck to kiss him softly on the forehead so he’d settle back down. As he laid his head back down onto his chest a warm, tingling sensation spread from underneath Virgil’s cheek and covered his collar bone and part of his shoulder. Gasping he nudged the other up, poking more insistantly when the stubborn emo refused to disentangle himself. Ignoring Virgil’s confused look as he made to pull off his shirt he practically whipped it across the room and placed a hand to his soul mark, eyes shining as he took in the sight. 

His mark had always looked so odd to him, big blobs of shapes over his right shoulder and collar bone with jagged black scars streaking from them and down his chest. He could never even begin to picture what it could be, though a friend suggested once that it might be a warped forest of some sort, doubtful as his tone had been. Instead, his warm fingers traced over jagged streaks of lightning, such a bright purple they nearly glowed in the dark. The blobs above them had filled in with every shade of gray he had ever seen, broken occasionally by shadows of purple and blue where the lightning was. It was unexpectedly beautiful, his vision blurring with tears as he realized what this meant.

“I always knew.” He looked up as Virgil spoke in a hushed whisper. “I always- but you just felt so safe and you never...you always make me feel better about it and so safe and I guess-”

Logan opened his arms and Virgil gratefully dove back into them, catching his cheek with a kiss on the way down. They resettled quickly, the rain nothing more than a gentle patter against the roof letting them rest easy. Cracking an eye open, Logan strained to look down as Virgil laughed and held him tighter.

“Of all the things that keep me up at night, I’m so glad I was right about this.”

Logan smiled and hugged him closer in turn. “I agree.”

----- -----

Virgil sat up slowly, blanket falling from his shoulders and pooling around his waist as he struggled to cross his legs in the tangle. After a minute of failing miserably he huffed and flopped back, kicking both legs up as far as they would go while catching the blanket on the bottom of his feet and then kicking forward violently to dislodge them. Unfortunately the trick failed, landing more fabric between his legs and scrunching his pants uncomfortably in the process. Scissoring his legs just twisted everything around more and by the time he was halfway through attempting bicycles the situation was hopeless enough he considered just going back to sleep and dealing with it when he woke up. He had closed his eyes to do just that when he heard a muffled snort from the doorway, picking his head up to peer at Logan through squinted eyelids.

“Would you like some assistance?” Logan asked while making a half-hearted attempt to school his features.

Huffing, Virgil flopped his head back onto the pillows. “Clearly I have everything under control.”

“Falsehood. Your wiggling was very impressive but the blankets quite obviously won in the end. Was falling back to sleep after a ten hour nap and a failed battle the plan from the start?”

“No one likes a smartass Lo.”

“And yet your love for me persists.” Smiling lightly, Logan made his way to the side of the bed and climbed on, swinging his legs up and over Virgil’s stomach and plopped down gently with his hands splayed over his chest. Grunting out pseudo complaints Virgil reached up and took both of the hands in his own, giving each a kiss in turn before settling them back just below his collarbones. The sight of Logan blushing- bright enough to be visible even in the dim room- was one he would never grow tired of.

“Illogical as it may be.” He agreed. “Is that why you love your darling husband? I’m your most difficult logic puzzle that’s guaranteed to last a lifetime?”

Logan rolled his eyes. “No, that’s absurd. I love my husband because a pain in the ass though he may be- he’s a constant I find myself unable to live without.”

Feeling his own face heating up Virgil longed for his hoodie to hide in, especially once Logan’s expression turned smug from rendering him speechless. “Logan, it’s much too early for you to be this smooth.”

“Virgil, my love, it’s seven in the evening.”

Virgil blinked. “Wow. you weren’t kidding when you said ten hour nap.”

“I never kid. It’s important to be one hundo percent, one hundo percent of the time.”

“Who gave you that one?”

“Patton.”

“Yeah, maybe don’t trust the dad-friend for flashcards, starlight.’

Flushing slightly, Logan disentangled their fingers and rolled off the bed. “Duly noted. Now please get up, we have plans.”

“We do- ah!” Virgil found himself face down in his pillow, having flipped around with Logan’s rather aggressive flourish of snapping the blankets out from around his legs. Remembering that they had, in fact, had plans for the night, Virgil rolled out of bed as quickly as he could with apologies already hot on his tongue. “Logan I’m so sorry I thought that was tomorrow and I had stayed up late for stupid reasons and I hope we aren’t running late do I have time to change-”

“Virgil, breathe.” Logan cupped a hand to his cheek and gently ran a thumb under his eye. “I assure you we have plenty of time and I’m very glad you got the sleep you did. I would have liked you up earlier only to see your lovely face and to make sure your sleep schedule wasn’t ruined. But if you slept that long you must have needed it, and I certainly am not going to fault you for that.”

Closing his eyes, Virgil took a breath and held it for a second before breathing out slowly. Logan’s hand left his cheek and he caught himself leaning forward to chase the warmth, his resulting blush filling that void for the time being. 

“Do what you need and then come in the kitchen; I made fried noodles.”

More awake now than ever Virgil hurried to the bathroom. Logan’s cooking was the best he had ever had and he’d be damned if he was late for noodles.

-----

A cool breeze rustled through the thick grass and flipped over the corner of the blanket Logan and Virgil had set up an hour before. Sputtering, Virgil flipped it back from his face, spitting bits of dandelion fluff out of his mouth in the process while pointedly ignoring Logan’s snicker. He pushed his hoodie closer to the corner to prevent further mishap and snuggled closer to his husband for warmth, head resting comfortably on one arm with his other wrapped around Logan’s shoulders. 

Logan lay on his side with his head on his shoulder, the bottom of his cheek pressed into the still black soulmark that traced a shapeless blob from the top of his elbow to the nape of his neck. Soulmarks filled in based on the other soulmates feelings- when they truly felt like they had found the one. Of course that was a romantic conspiracy for the most part and to Virgil it seemed to go against the entire idea of fate. If you could choose your own, then what was the point of the marks? 

Choosing not to think about it for the time being, he continued staring up at the sky. The night was clear and this far out not much light pollution tainted their view of everything the night had to offer. Stars glittered for miles with barely there colorful space dust in between if you squinted. Logan had told him what it actually was once- something about it being high temperature nebula gas absorbing starlight- Logan had explained it much better in the past.

Logan always explained everything better.

“You’re quiet tonight.” Logan remarked.

“I’m sorry- just thinking.” 

“Mm, don’t be sorry.”

They laid in silence for a few more minutes before Virgil decided to speak up. “They always make me feel really small- stars I mean- and I know I am small compared to everything but all that just leads to...existential dread I guess. Seeing everything laid out, it’s beautiful, but it’s also a bit daunting.”

“Virgil, if you’re uncomfortable-”

“Lemme finish first before you do the sweet thing you do where you overanalyze everything for the sake of everyone else’s comfort.” Seeing Logan smile and roll his eyes he continued. “I always feel small looking at them, but it never matters because you make me feel big. Like I could take on the entire world even when the anxiety’s being a bitch.”

He felt Logan smile against his arm...and then it started to tingle. Tiny pinpricks raced up and down his arms from his shoulder to his neck and he quickly disentangled himself and started blindly slapping at his mark to get whatever bugs off that had decided to ruin the moment. Noticing Logan had his mouth covered with his eyes wide in shock staring at his arm he quickly looked down and gasped with his own.

His unsightly black blob of a soulmark, which he had long ago stopped trying to guess at the shape of, was now a glittering galaxy. Striking blue and dark purple swirled in intricate patterns behind stars that shined so brightly on his skin he would swear they had been plucked from the night sky and flicked onto him. The tingling finally stopped, the whole field seeming to hold its breath along with the both of them before Logan finally broke the silence with a hoarse whisper.

“In an entire universe I found you.” Snapping his head up, Virgil saw tears gathering in his husband’s eyes. “I was sure I already knew but- I’m so happy I found you.”

Laughing wetly Virgil dove forward, knocking them both over and half in the grass but neither could bring themselves to care. Under the stars, with Virgil himself wrapped in a galaxy, he had never been so happy to have an impossibly small space in Logan’s arms to call his own.

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[kurt-nightcrawler]

Decay: part II

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝐱 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warnings: this talks about alcoholism, implications of sex, mentions of technical assault (Jessie kissed Warren while he was drunk and she made him think she was Mother Nature!), also we get into Warren’s backstory a bit. I’m not trying to make anyone out to be a villain, but the story overall is much more upsetting than usual.

Word Count: 5.4K

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy! Not exactly the mood needed right now— I am very sorry, but I’m working on a much happier piece for Mother Nature and Warren! I’ll try to have it out before the end of the month!

Part 1 if you need a refresher!

Warren didn’t want to tell anyone about what happened. He wanted to pretend it never happened. To just hole up the memory of the night deep into his mind. He always hid and pushed away trauma. Why should this be any different?

His friends wanted to get Alex or maybe even Charles involved, but he protested. 

“It’s my word against her’s.” 

“Yeah, but everyone’s going to support you, and Jean and Charles are telepathic—”

“What can I really do? Press charges? If I do that then and use Jean or Charles to back me up, it becomes a whole mutant’s rights issue. It’s not worth it.” 

(Y/N) hated seeing Warren look so defeated. Jessie going about Xavier’s unscathed by everyone who wasn’t close with Warren, and him thinking it was his fault. 

(Y/N) had said she must have eaten something bad at the Halloween party, causing her to feel sick and sprout poison ivy. Also why all the plants died. 

If Hank and Charles could tell she was lying, they didn’t say anything. 

Rumors started amongst students about what had happened at the party— if Warren had actually cheated on (Y/N), if he did something to Jessie, or if Jessie forced herself onto him. 

Warren didn’t like the rumors involving (Y/N) in the mess. He didn’t like the stares and whispers they got when people saw them together. 

“Poor girl, staying with him even after he cheated.”

“Maybe she’s too naive to realize.”

“I knew they’d never work out— (Y/N)’s too good for him.”

“I bet he forced her into going out with him.” 

“I mean… he’s not ugly—”

“Yeah, but he’s not a good person and (Y/N) is!”

It made him sick to his stomach. Warren didn’t force her into anything— and he thought he had changed, that people were finally trusting him. 

Guess he was wrong.

—

Warren wasn’t even paying attention in his environmental sciences class. They were watching a video on how a plant species can be invasive, required to take notes on it. 

Warren was texting (Y/N), phone brightness turned down all the way. He just wanted to go to bed for a while and ignore the real world.

When the bell rang, dismissing students, Alex told everyone they’d finish the video, next class. 

Warren got up to leave, but Alex stopped him. 

“You doing alright?” 

“Uh, yeah.” He lied. “I’m not in trouble am I?” 

Alex hesitated to answer. 

“No.”

Warren nodded, noticeably nervous. 

“There’s a rumor going around saying you assaulted Jessie Rowe.”

Warren’s heart fell into his stomach. “I didn’t.”

“Okay… But something happened, didn’t it?” 

Warren didn’t respond.

“Warren, you have to tell me what happened.” 

“I got tipsy and she kissed me. I thought she was (Y/N), but then (Y/N) walked in and Jessie tried to act like I tried to kiss her.”

 Warren’s eyes were pleading— pleading for Alex to not get mad at him for drinking, or mad at him for not speaking sooner. 

“Um, no one got hurt, and now there’s just a rumor going around, so you can like, give me detention for drinking or whatever it’s fine—”

 “I’m going to have to tell Professor Xavier,” Alex told him. 

“Please don’t tell him I was drinking! I can’t— I won’t—”

Alex could see the desperation in his eyes. Warren had nowhere else to go. He, like many other students, depended on Xaiver’s entirely.  

“You’re a good kid Warren— you’ve opened up to others, you were sober for almost six months, you have a good group of friends and even a girlfriend— Charles isn’t going to punish you. I just don’t want you to spiral down and lose all the progress you’ve made…” 

“I just,” Warren rubbed his eyes. “Don’t wanna make a big deal about it. I’d rather it just blows over. Everyone will eventually forget about it anyway.” 

“Are you aware of the rumors involving (Y/N)?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay, so, this involves her and Jessie. I know—” 

Alex and Warren turned their heads to the door. Someone was opening it. 

(Y/N) stepped inside. Warren hadn’t shown up to the library during their shared free period like he said he would, so she was worried about him. Plus, he hadn’t been doing too well since the Halloween party…. Neither of them had been. 

Her eyes were pink and purple— she was full of worry for her boyfriend. 

“Oh!” She gaped, soon as she saw Warren and Alex sitting at his desk, in the middle of what looked like an important conversation. 

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” She asked. 

“No. You can stay.” Warren told her. (Y/N) dragged a chair over and sat next to him.

“Right, as I was saying, Charles isn’t going to expel you, but he might want to make a police report. I’m not sure what good it will do, but—”

“I don’t want to. It’s not going to do anything but cause problems.” 

(Y/N) was immensely confused. She had no idea what they were talking about. 

“We’re gonna talk to Jessie, maybe a few of your friends, and knowing Charles, he won’t expel either of you. We’ll do everything we can to get the rumors to stop…” 

Oh! It finally clicked in her mind. 

It was about the party. 

“Okay… Thank— thank you, Alex.” 

“Yeah, we should go to Charles’s office— what class do you guys have next?” 

“I have lunch.”

“AP art.”

“That’s… Ms. Burnwood, right, (Y/N)?” 

She nodded.  

“I’ll make sure your absence is excused.” 

“Thanks.”

Alex took them up to Charles’s office. Warren then explained everything that happened, while trying to not get his friends in trouble for also drinking. 

Jessie was brought up to Charles’s office and questioned. She caved pretty easily, with (Y/N) glaring at her the whole time, and amid their telepathic principal, lying wouldn’t do her any good. 

Jessie was “grounded”— she couldn’t leave campus during the semester until after Thanksgiving break— she was also to stop encouraging the rumors, and had to talk with one of the school counselors once a week until they deemed it no longer necessary. Jessie’s parents weren’t in the picture, so notifying them wouldn’t do any good. 

Warren’s punishment was less severe, he couldn’t be out later than nine on weekends, (just until Thanksgiving break) and he was required to go to group therapy to help him deal with his former alcoholism and past traumas, for the rest of the school year.  

—

“You don’t have to tell me what goes on at group therapy.” (Y/N) told him. 

“I know.” 

“You don’t have to tell anyone.” 

Warren smiled a little, “I know.” 

“Okay…” (Y/N) kisses his cheek. 

Warren wrapped his arm around her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I hope it goes well… it should.” 

(Y/N) nodded, “Yeah… Here,” Her hand was in a fist. When she opened it, she revealed a daisy and a four-leaf clover. 

“You don’t really need luck or anything but, um, I thought, you know—“ 

Warren accepted the small gift, taking it from her hand. “Thanks, baby. I love it.” 

—

Group therapy was awkward. Warren hated it. He knew it would be good to talk about… well, everything, probably, but he had a hard time opening up to total strangers. 

“Alright, in case you’re new or don’t remember, my name is Allison… We have a new member with us today, he’s going to be with us for a while.” Allison looked at Warren. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

“Okay… Um, my name is Warren.”  

Everyone replied with, “Hi, Warren.” 

“And um, I’m a mutant.” 

Allison smiled, “That’s great! Do you go flying a lot? 

“Uh, yeah.”

“What kind of metal are your wings made of?” A girl with washed-out blue hair asked.

“Titanium, I think.” 

“Well, Warren, welcome to the group,” Allison interjected, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Now, we’re going to do an ice breaker of sorts, and then just have like, regular conversation. We can all go around and say our favorite color and why.” 

Warren blinked. He didn’t— he didn’t have a favorite color. 

“And don’t say you don’t have a favorite color. If you can’t pick a favorite, choose one you hate the least… We can start with Trey.” 

Warren thought of color options—

Black?  No. Black wasn't his favorite, despite being 95% of his wardrobe. It absorbed the most light, helping him blend in with the darkness and look tough, something he needed in Germany. 

Blue— The color of Kurt— his roommate and friend, who he tried to kill. Twice. Something he still felt remorse over. And Apocalypse. The man who gave him the metal wings and tattoos, forcing him to aid in mass destruction, only to leave him for dead when he was no longer useful.

Red— the color of Alex’s plasma beams. And how the Horsemen were a result in him almost dying.

White and Silver— the colors of his wings. Past and present. How each reflected hardships from Warren’s life. How he hated them and a child and almost resorted back to that self-deprecation when they shifted into metal and the consequences finally sank in. 

But what about green? The color of healthy plants that thrive. The color of (Y/N)’s eyes when she’s happy.

Warren liked the color, despite (Y/N)’s eyes rarely being green around him. However, it didn’t mean she was unhappy with him.

Her eyes were pink around him. A way of saying “I love you” without actually saying it. The pink meant she cared about him more than most people— that she trusted him, accepted him for who he was despite his past, and that she would be there for him when he needed her. 

Not many people could say they would do those things for Warren, or that they had.

His father cared more about the family name and how his son couldn’t possibly be a freak. His mother didn’t want his wings to tarnish her image, and while she was still his mother, she left him on his own most of the time. 

And how all his past relationships and flings— they didn’t have much meaning. There was never any real affection behind them. They saw the cage fighting king and wanted a piece of that. 

(Y/N) looked past all of that. She saw how he responded to what life threw at him. She saw the tough guy act, the big softie, the broken boy who ran away in fear, the man who thought he wasn’t good enough— she brought out his good side, making him realize he deserved happiness, love, and a home, that when you hit rock bottom, you can only go up from there. 

He decided pink was his favorite color, because it showed someone cared for him in ways he wasn’t used to. He would do anything to keep it around forever.

“Warren, what’s your favorite color?” 

“Pink.” 

He got a few funny looks. They were probably expecting him to say black, based on his general aesthetic. 

“And why is that?”

“Um, it’s my girlfriend’s eye color… she’s also a mutant.” 

Allison smiled, “That’s very sweet.” 

She moved on to the next person, “Rose, what’s your favorite color?” 

She said, “Green.” But Warren wasn’t paying attention to why. 

The ice breaker eventually ended, and Allison shifted the discussion to other things. 

“Now Warren, since you’re new, usually new members spend most of their first meeting talking about themselves. Just so we can get to know you and whatnot.”

“Okay… um… anything specific you want to know?” 

“Why don’t you start from the beginning?” 

“Okay… So, I was born into a really small family. Just me, my mom, my father, and his brother. I don’t really know what happened to my grandparents. I never asked... 

When I was three we moved from Westminster to Centerport.”

“Where’s that located?”

“Oh, uh, Westminster’s close to London.” 

Allison looked impressed. 

“I went to a private all-boys school when I was little. I don’t remember the name of it though.” 

“Were you born with your wings?” Allison asked.

“No.” Warren responded. “They started to grow when I was eleven… I was terrified. I spent almost every day trying to rip them out… but once all the feathers are gone, you’re left with nothing but bone. It hurt like hell, but I used a pocket knife and a razor to try and cut them or at least file the bone down.” 

“It wasn’t hard… but it hurt a lot. I spent so much time worrying about my wings and if people would discover them, that I started to fall behind in school… I wasn’t like failing or anything, I had access to all kinds of tutors and everything, but my parents quickly found out I was falling behind. My father was barely aware, telling my mom to ‘deal with it.’ She tried her best, but I was so scared of them discovering my wings…”

   Warren sighed, “My parents had a beach house in Italy, and we were supposed to go there for my fall break. I was so terrified. I couldn’t go swimming, they’d see my wings… But I couldn’t find a way out of the trip. I was twelve at the time and my mom… She saw my back when I came out of the shower...”   

“She screamed, and my father came running to us. When he saw my back, he was disgusted. The look on his face was drilled into my skull for years. And it wasn’t even that bad, they were just growing back after being cut, so they weren’t even that big… but I just remember how scared my mom was, and how disgusted my father was… I just started crying and apologizing, but it didn’t do anything.” 

“We left our trip four days early and I was pulled out of school. My parents decided to homeschool me, which basically meant, cut all contact with everyone from school and have a few tutors come to the house.” 

“Did you have contact with anyone outside of your home?”

“I saw some family friends, and one or two kids of my parent’s friends… my parents hired countless doctors and all kinds of people, doing tests on me, trying to find a “cure”. Every time they failed my parents just got more upset— I was becoming a waste of time and money. They were becoming more distant and cold, wrapping themselves up in their work, and I was locked up.”

“What happened to your wings?”

“My mom said the scars they would leave were ugly, but I was forced to let them grow out.” 

“My parents were arguing a lot, always sad or angry… mostly because of my wings… I was getting tired, tired of hiding, tired of the arguing, I wanted it all to stop…”

“Can you please stop?” Warren thought he was going to cry. 

His father glared at him, disgusted by the wings, and how his son was on the verge of tears. 

Warren could hear his parents arguing from down the hall. That’s all they seemed to do when they were home— fight. 

Warren blamed himself. If he was just normal. If he didn’t have those damn wings!

He wanted them to stop. He’d do anything to make them stop. 

Warren thought about getting on to the roof and jumping. Not even flying down, just falling to his end. His end of suffering, and his loveless, lonely existence. 

“Are you going to do it?” 

Warren looked over his shoulder to find his father standing behind him. Watching him peer out the highest window in the house. 

“No! I— I’m sorry! I wasn’t—”

His father scoffed. “Did I raise a coward?”

Warren couldn’t look him in the eyes. “No sir.”

“I’ve scheduled for you to have spinal surgery next week. Your doctor is coming to prep and evaluate you for it. This surgery should fix you.”

Warren’s eyes were closed, trying not to imagine the pain, trying to not cry in front of his father. 

“Or you can fall out the window… in a freak accident.” 

“So I jumped out the window. I didn’t fall to my death as he had hoped, but I flew. I flew far away. I flew across the Atlantic for a few hours before I started to get tired. I spotted a ship and I got close. It was a fishing boat, a large one. The crew let me stay for the night until they went back to land… After that, I flew from São Miguel to Cascais. From there I just kind of fucked around Europe.” 

Warren sighed. Allison told him to take all the time he needed and he could stop if he wanted for the day. Let someone else talk. 

Warren nodded and kept quiet for the rest of the meeting. 

—

Alex picked him up when the meeting ended. Alex didn’t ask about the meeting. It wasn’t his business and he knew Warren would talk when he was ready. 

“Where do the others think I went?” Warren asked. 

“Training. They’re busy anyway, most didn’t notice you were gone.” 

Warren silently nodded. 

Alex pulled into Xavier’s garage, parking and letting Warren slip out and go up to his room. 

Warren kicked his shoes off and laid on his bed, putting in his earbuds and playing some soft songs. 

(Y/N) was heading up to Warren’s room to use his shower. She was covered in paint, for she helped clean up after the fourth graders used the art room. 

(Y/N) knocked on the door, making sure no one was there before she entered. 

Warren didn’t hear her and (Y/N) almost didn’t notice him laying on the bed. When she did, however, her entire demeanor changed. 

“Hi, Angel!” She went over to practically smother him in light kisses. 

Warren pulled out his earbuds and smiled. “Hi, Flower.”

“When did you get home?” She asked, scooting over to the open side of the bed. 

“Like ten minutes ago. What have you been up to?” 

“I got paint all over me,” (Y/N) frowned. “I was going to take a shower and wash it off.” 

“You can do that. I was just kind of laying here.” 

(Y/N) bit her lip, unsure of how to handle the situation. 

“If you disassociate your whole day will feel off. You should take a nice relaxing shower with me, instead.” 

Warren chuckled. 

“Not like that, Bird brain!” She exclaimed. “We can use one of my lush bath bombs and my rose-scented exfoliator.” 

“Are you saying I smell?” Warren joked. 

“Eh,” (Y/N) shrugged before slipping her bra off and throwing it in the hamper. 

Warren scoffed and wrapped his arms around (Y/N), peppering her neck in kisses. “How dare you!” He teased. 

“Ah!” (Y/N) laughed. Warren’s lips on her neck tickled her skin. “That’s why I’m going to bathe.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll join you.” 

(Y/N) hummed in victory, wiggling out of Warren’s grip, and headed into the bathroom to grab her stuff. 

The last time she used the girls’ communal showers was before they were even dating. (Y/N)’s toothbrush made its way into Warren and Kurt’s bathroom, then her shampoo and conditioner, and then eventually most of all her other hygiene products. 

(Y/N) set her soap and other things on the edge of the tub and drew up warm water, filling the bathtub up about halfway. 

She sprinkled in rose petals and got Warren into the bathroom. They both stripped off their clothes and stepped in the tub. A bit difficult, for Warren had to fold his wings back and get in first, with (Y/N) practically sitting in his lap, face to face, but they made do. 

(Y/N) dropped an orange bath bomb in the water and grabbed her jar of exfoliating scrub, rubbing it on her arms and legs to help remove the paint. 

Warren closed his eyes and rested his chin on her shoulder. 

“How’d it go today?” (Y/N) asked as she grabbed a bar of soap and rubbed it onto her skin. 

He didn’t respond. 

“I’m sorry…” She murmured. 

“Don’t apologize. It wasn’t terrible… I talked a little bit about my parents.” 

(Y/N) nodded as she applied her rose exfoliator onto Warren’s skin. 

“I’m really sorry…” Warren let out. He sounded as if he was on the verge of tears. 

“Baby,” (Y/N) looked into his eyes. “it’s okay.” 

“I— I just—“ Warren hiccuped, letting out a choked sob and releasing some tears from his eyes. 

(Y/N) rubbed his back, avoiding the tender spot around his wings, whispering, “Let it out, it’s okay, Angel.” 

Warren silently cried into (Y/N)‘s shoulder. Her arms wrapped around him in comfort. The emotions he felt almost made him sick— love and affection— and a lot of it too. He couldn’t remember a time before when he felt like that. He never wanted to leave (Y/N)‘s embrace. 

Warren lifted his head up and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. 

“Sorry— um—“ 

“It’s okay.” (Y/N) cupped his face in her hands, leaving a kiss on each cheek. “Want me to wash your hair?” 

Warren nodded. 

“C’mere—” (Y/N) grabbed the shampoo from the bathtub ledge, pouring some in her hands, and then lathering it into Warren’s mop of curls. 

Her hands gently massaging his scalp felt like a touch of heaven to Warren. He didn’t want to cry again, but he couldn’t help himself.  (Y/N) was heartbroken at her boyfriend’s demeanor, but it was good he was letting it all out.  

She finished washing his hair and drained the tub— them both getting out— Warren holding onto (Y/N) as she gently dried them both off. 

“Thank you, He mumbled.

“Of course, Baby…”   

—

Most of their dates shifted to either being at the mansion or during the day. Warren felt bad, having to limit things for them, but (Y/N) didn’t care. 

“We can do more stuff during the day… And at night all our friends will be gone… We’ll be all alone…” (Y/N)’s tone was almost teasing. Warren had to chuckle to himself, she was doing her best to make the situation work.

His second group meeting was set a bit later in the day, around 6 pm on a Saturday. Warren told (Y/N) he probably wouldn’t be back until after dark. 

“Call me if you need me. I’ll be here—” She motioned to her empty bedroom. 

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” He teased.  

“You too, Baby.” 

Warren drove himself to his second group therapy meeting. Alex offered to drive again, but Warren felt bad having him taking time out of his day to drive him to group therapy. 

Not everyone who was at the first meeting was at the second one— but Warren saw some familiar faces. 

“Hey, Warren! Welcome back,” Allison greeted him. 

“Hi.” 

He took a seat near a guy in a grey hoodie with an eyebrow piercing. 

“Alright everyone, we’re going to go around, say our name, and if we have any pets. If you don’t that’s okay! You can say, what kind of animals you’re interested in. Let’s start with Collin…”

Warren zoned out for a bit until it was his turn. He didn’t have a pet, and he didn’t really have an interest in a specific animal. People made jokes about him being a bird, but he didn’t necessarily have a connection with them. 

“I don’t have a pet… My girlfriend has a lot of plants though…” 

“Ooo! What kind?” 

“Um… Almost all kinds— her mutation helps grow them and stuff…”

“That’s cool.” Someone commented.

Warren awkwardly nodded. The ice breaker continued around the circle, and when finished, Allison had some people give updates on how they had been since the last meeting, others talked about how they were feeling in general. 

“Warren—”

“Yeah?” He asked. 

“Do you want to continue talking from where you left off last week?”  

“I can, sure.” 

The floor was given to him, and Warren continued his “backstory”. 

“I ended up in Germany. Messing around, staying overnight on stranger’s couches. I tried to find work, but it was hard being almost 15 at this point and no papers… I ran into muggers and they tried to, well, rob me, but I fought back. I wasn’t very good but it got them off and away from me… I ended up in a bar… The last thing I remember was falling asleep and then waking up in a locker room of sorts. A bunch of men shouting in German, um, some in English, but basically I was told to go out into ‘the ring’. People were watching— shouting and cheering, for the other guy in the ring. He was kind of short and hairy, but he had these claws, and he could really kick ass. I barely made it out of there— I didn’t win— but I didn’t die. People enjoyed watching us. They cheered, calling him Wolve-something, and they called me, Angel.” 

“I wanted to leave, but the people running the ring gave me some money and I found a place to stay for the night… the job offers weren’t exactly lining up… so I agreed to more fights. I got really good, fighting other mutants, probably in the same situation as me, but I quickly realized, kill, or be killed…” 

Warren quickly realized people had very concerned looks on their faces. “I didn’t kill anyone! But I did beat them up pretty badly— the more fights I won the more money I got— and it was that or die… I did it for about two years before I met someone… 

I was alone at a bar, I was bruised and a bit bloody, and this girl with purple hair came up to me. She was one of the guards in the fight club— she worked for some guy named Caliban, I think. I don’t remember… Anyway, her name was Betsy. She said she’d been watching me for a while, saying my fighting was impressive but could be improved… Uh, She offered to help me out, and we went back to her place. She helped clean up the blood on me, and um, then we made out, and I spent the night… This went on for a while, she’d watch me fight and give me tips and pointers, and we’d make out and stuff…”   

“How long is, awhile?” Allison asked.

“Um, Like two-ish years? I don’t know— but um, we had this like thing going on, and I thought we were maybe dating? I dunno. But whatever we had I fucked up.”

Warren groaned as Betsy aggressively pressed her mouth against his. He had just won another fight and went back to her place to “celebrate”. 

“God, B… I love you...” 

 Betsy froze, her body tensing up. 

“What?”

Warren panicked, her face did not seem pleased. “It slipped out— I’m sorry—”

“No… You don’t mean it… We can’t be together.”

“What do you mean?” He asked. “I thought we were together.” 

“Angel— this isn’t a relationship— we just fuck while I give you some pointers on your punches.”

“I know this isn’t traditional, we don’t go out on dates—”

“You don’t love me! We’re too young— I’ll lose my job. I spend all this time one you so I don’t lose my job, you’re the best fighter—”

“You keep me trapped here?” Warren asked, slowly piecing things together. 

“It’s not like that—” She tried to explain. 

“I’ve tried to quit fighting for almost a year now! I told you I wanted to leave, and this whole time you’ve been keeping me here?” 

“You’re young and naive, and I’d lose my job, everything—” 

Warren stood up, ignoring Betsy’s excuses. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Away. Since we’re not together and I don’t love you.” Warren slammed the door behind him and headed back to the ring. He needed to let out his anger. 

—

Warren went on a winning streak— he won ten fights in a row— the feeling was borderline euphoric, the crowds cheering for their champion, Warren getting to sink someone’s teeth in or watch them fall to the ground. 

Warren was amped up for his eleventh fight— the announcer was talking about his next opponent— 

“The Incredible Nightcrawler!” 

A lanky, devil looking, blue boy fell out of a cage onto the floor of the ring. Warren circled him for a moment before meeting him on the ground. 

He wasn’t fighting, just teleporting around the cage in small bursts. 

“Fight!” Warren yelled at him. “Or they’ll kill us both!” 

The blue boy looked terrified, but he fought back when Warren attacked him. 

At one point he managed to drag Warren against the side of the electric cage, burning his wing. 

“Ah!” Warren cried out in pain. Suddenly he saw the blue devil escape from the bottom, so in a risky move, he flew up and ripped off the upper walls of the cage, and flew out. His flying was wonky and jagged for one of his wings was broken.

Warren had nowhere to go, so he went back to the one place he shouldn’t have— 

Betsy’s place. 

—

“I was drunk as shit and angry and this blue wrinkly man came with Betsy and some other girl I didn’t recognize, and he just held his hand out and metal grew out of my back and on top of my wings. I was healed, in a way, but also it kind of ruined my life. The blue man also just held his hand  out and gave me these tattoos…”

“You weren’t one of the horsemen with Apocalypse, were you? Like last spring I think… Out in Cario?” One girl in the circle asked.

“Yeah… Um, I never killed anyone, and I don’t do that anymore. The X-Men took me in and I’m trying to get my shit together.” 

“We don’t judge here, and from what I’ve heard, the X-Men do great things! Like the Fantastic Four and Spider-Man.” Others in the group murmured in agreement. 

“You’re built like a transformer dude,” The guy sitting next to him commented. 

“Thanks…” 

“I think you can do a lot of good, Warren. You’ve spent a lot of time running from your problems, but you seem like you’re grounded now… I was told you came here because you relapsed.”   

“It was an accident— I haven’t drank since.” 

“And that’s good! It can be really hard to open up and talk about your past, but you did it…”

Warren nodded along to what Allison said. 

“I think you can do even better if you acknowledge your mistakes and learn from them… and don’t be afraid, don’t push them into the back of your mind… I think— if you haven’t already— talk to your girlfriend about some of this. Doesn’t have to be a lot or all at once, but being open and honest does good in relationships.”

“Yeah, um, sounds good.” Warren’s heart fell into his stomach. He was terrified to talk about all of this with (Y/N).

She didn’t deserve the burden. (Y/N)  was this innocent, happy, light in his life. Warren didn’t want to ruin that. 

He thought (Y/N) was too good for him, and she would eventually realize that and leave him.  

But he trusted her. He trusted (Y/N) with his life. Perhaps a bit foolish, but he rarely ever felt sure about those types of things. He decided to trust his intuition.

—

Warren drove home in silence. 

He pulled into the garage and put the keys on the key rack before heading up to (Y/N)’s room. 

He didn’t even bother knocking on the door. He just walked right in and flopped onto the bed, in (Y/N)’s lap.

She was surprised, but she quickly came to her senses and tried to figure out what happened. 

“Baby?...” (Y/N) looked down at Warren’s face as she tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear. 

“I…” Warren burst into tears, all his bottled up emotions coming out at once. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Warren sat up and (Y/N) hugged him tightly. 

“I have… things… I want to tell you… about my past…” Warren scrunched his nose. 

“My parents and other stuff… but I’m scared.” He admitted.  

“Warren, baby, I’m not going anywhere. Tell me whatever you need to, whenever you feel ready, okay?” 

He slowly nodded, still crying. 

(Y/N) kissed his forehead and rubbed his back, being silent and supportive. 

“Can… Can you promise me… Promise me you won’t leave because of my past. I’ve done really bad shit and—” 

“I promise I’m not going anywhere. I mean it.” She reassured him.  

Warren wiped his nose with the back of his hand, his tears slowing down.

“Thanks…” He mumbled.

“Of course, anything for you, Angel.” 

[cakesunflower]

Know Me [C.H. One Shot]

A/N: Hellloooooooo! Here is the awaited Trust Fund Cal!AU. As always, I did not expect for this to get so long. 29,893 words to be exact. I kind of hate myself for it but, like, whatever. Grab a snack (or a whole meal idk) while you read!

P.S.: Nura’s name is pronounced Noo-rah. P.P.S.: For those of you who don’t know, “beta” is Urdu for “child.”

Happy reading babies!!

People were predictable. That was one of the first things Nura Ansari learned when she first started working at the Little Palm Island Resort and Spa when she was sixteen. Nearly six years on the job and she’d developed the skill of reading people; just one sweep of her gaze and knowing exactly the kind they would be. The resort was a luxurious one, its patrons that of high celebrity rank or families with loads of money to throw around that wouldn’t make a dent in their bank account once it was gone. She could pick apart the parents who didn’t care what their kids got up to, the younger crowd with the sponsors booking them the finest room the resort had to offer to show it off on their social media garnering millions of followers, those who legitimately wanted to enjoy a family vacation, and everyone else in between. Different people, all ultimately the same beyond the surface.

But despite the exasperation she often felt with most of her encounters, Nura had learned to become patient, as well. Had perfected a smile fake enough that it seemed real—or maybe she was only given that illusion, seeing many of the patrons were blind to everything but their good time—and had become capable of accommodating the most difficult of customers. She started off as a lifeguard before moving onto waitressing and bartending, a job she came back to every summer since she turned sixteen. Hopefully, this was her last.

“Look alive, Nura.” She straightened her back immediately at the sound of Patrick, her co-worker’s voice, exiting out of Tumblr that had been opened up on her browser. This morning she was covering Elaine’s shift at the front desk, and would be off by two and would have the day to herself until her waitressing shift from seven to midnight started. 

Sticking the orange flavored gum to her mouth, Nura drew her attention to the guests approaching them, sharp eyes taking in the group of four guys and three girls. They rolled in with the breeze that engaged the plants by the door in a dance, the scent of sea salt one Nura’s nose had become numb to over the years. The early afternoon sun was high in the summer sky, the glass walls of the lobby allowing for the bright sun rays to bathe the room, the wooden and glass furniture glimmering amidst it. If she listened closely enough, Nura would be able to hear the swishing of palm trees right outside, or the relatively distant waves of the ocean. No matter how many years of this job Nura had under her belt, those were sounds she would never grow tired of hearing. Ironic, given that she’s trying to get out. Not just the island, but Florida as a whole.

The group of seven were giddy, chattering amongst themselves as the sounds of their voices carried throughout the open lobby, taking advantage of the welcome cocktails Amber was offering them by the door. The girls were carrying their totes and guys were each wearing backpacks, and Nura caught sight of Mattie and Rob, the two bellhops, each rolling in with a cart full of luggage. Nura’s eyes shifted back to the group approaching the front desk, taking them in in all the glory of their glowing skin and shining hair and bright smiles. She couldn’t forget the designer clothes that, not for the first time, made her feel inadequate in her uniform of the resort’s signature baby blue button down tucked into a black pencil skirt that stopped above her knees. 

Nura swallowed down that unwanted thought that was good for nothing but putting herself down. Comparing her appearance to that of others was something she’d put an end to years ago; she had to, in order to work this job. So she put on her smile, gaze shifting to the guy in front of the group, whose head was ducked as he used his free hand to dig out his wallet, the glass already half empty in his other hand. “Good afternoon, welcome to Little Palm Island Resort and Spa,” she began, the rehearsed speech rolling off her tongue effortlessly despite manning the front desk not being her priority. “I’m Nura, can I—”

“Yeah, can you get us checked in quickly, please? Four Island Grand Suites, all under the name Calum Hood.”

She instantly clamped her mouth shut just as the glass clinked on top of the counter which it was rested on, the familiar vein of irritation being picked at when the dark haired man in front of her dropped his I.D., credit card, and phone with the reservation confirmation pulled up in his e-mail. Nura’s gaze dropped to the items in front of her, a silent breath inhaled through her nose before she lifted her gaze, brown eyes meeting unapologetic brown.

Patrick was standing right next to her—she wished they’d gone to him instead.

Willing for her smile to remain on her face, Nura pulled the items towards her, hating that she allowed herself to take in the man before him. Tattoos inked around his skin, shown off by the short sleeved black Guess shirt that hugged his torso tightly, tucked into a pair of jeans Nura knew only someone who was accommodated to hot weather could wear in their spot of Florida. She looked down at the picture on his license—a California license, which made sense to his comfort in clothing choice—before glancing up to back at his face.

He wasn’t even looking at her, instead showing off the sharp line of his jaw as he listened to whatever the tall blonde guy was saying to his right. Even so, Nura picked up on the spark of amusement in his dark eyes, framed by long lashes, despite the absence of a smile from his plump lips. She itched to reach for her iced tea sitting under the table to flush out the thought of how handsome he was in the softness of his face and the contradictory sharpness of his features. Inviting and unforgettable. 

Nura turned her attention to the computer, pulling up his reservation order with a few clicks of the mouse. “Sorry about him.” She looked up to see one of the other guys, black hair contrasting starkly against hazel eyes, stepping up with a dimpled grin on his face and an arm draping around the first guy—Calum’s—shoulders. With a hand coming up to pat at Calum’s chest, who in turn shot a mildly irritable look towards his friend, the guy added lightly, “Apparently he didn’t nap enough on the near five hour flight.”

She didn’t miss the way Calum’s eyebrows lowered, wondering if it was for the truth behind his friend’s words or the fact that someone else was accounting for the snappy first impression he’d made. Calum’s eyes swept over to her, and she caught the very moment he finally saw her properly. Nura’s eyes were sharp, didn’t miss a single thing, catching the relaxation of his eyebrows with a blink of his eyes and the ever so subtle part of his lips.

He saw her, and yet he didn’t apologize for cutting her off or the impolite way he’d done so.

The two of them were caught in a brief lock of gazes, and Nura fought the dry smile from quirking at her lips because she knew she wasn’t going to get an apology out of him. She doubted he even knew what he’d be apologizing for. So instead she brought back her customer service smile and rather than acknowledge the brief, awkward encounter, she read off the reservations Calum had made just a week or so ago.

Nura tried not to scoff at the duration of their vacation—lasting the entire three months of summer. Which made sense, given the total that she’d caught a glimpse of at the bottom. The suites they reserved cost a little over a grand a night, each. Toss in four of those, all for a three month long stay? It cost more than her four years’ attendance of university combined.

The hum of chatter between the group never ceased, and Nura promptly ignored the gaze she felt burning a hole in her face as she made sure everything was in order before reaching in the drawers to pull out the appropriate keycards for every suite and their respective card holders. Nura finally looked up, offering the cards to the man before her, who couldn’t be that much older than her. She smiled, professional and polite, as she said, “Here you go, sir.” His eyes, deep and dark and intense, never wavered from hers. Nura didn’t back down, either, despite feeling something unfamiliar tickle her in the pit of her stomach. “Mattie and Rob over there will show you to your suites. Enjoy your stay.”

Calum picked the cards out of her grasp, the tips of his fingers brushing against hers as he did so, finishing off the rest of his drink and Nura was surprised that she had to fight herself from observing the way his throat worked. He put the glass down and as he held out the other cards for his friends to take, all of them voicing their thanks before walking away from the reception desk, Calum lingered.

He offered a nod, a subtle gesture with ducking his chin, the corner of his lips just barely lifting up to showcase what others probably found to be a charming smirk. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Nura.” Her name was slipping past her mouth without much thought, jumping at the opportunity to give herself a name. She refused to be boiled down to what was supposed to be a term of endearment but essentially had her nails curling into her palm. If it came from a significant other, that was fine. She encouraged it. But not from strangers who called her as such for the purpose of being patronizing. Her smile remained, though steely to match the hardness of her eyes. “My name’s Nura.”

Calum eyed her for a moment. If he hadn’t expected that from her, he didn’t let it show—and he was good at it. Instead, he scoffed, hitting the card he held with a finger as he said, almost boredly, “Noted.”

He turned, then, following his friends out the doors to follow Mattie and Rob to where their bungalows were on the island. They disappeared the same way they came, a chorus of chatter amongst them, absent of the deep voice of Calum Hood as they went. When they were gone, Nura let out a huff, finally picking up the iced coffee under the table as the cubes swished in the confined space of the cup before she took a long sip.

“So?” Patrick spoke up for the first time, prompting her to look at him as she enjoyed her refreshing drink. With a tilt of his head towards the lobby doors, he asked with a wry smirk, “What kind were they?”

Nura licked her lips, looking towards the door as if they’d reappear again. But she’d seen enough. Well—she’d seen enough of one person. And from what she perceived, the least talkative guy out of a group of them, all in clothing Nura couldn’t really afford and didn’t care enough to, anyway, was the only one on her mind as she answered Patrick in the form of a too fitting lyric, “Super rich kids with nothing but fake friends.”

*****

The smoke billowed past his lips in a thick cloud, disappearing into the air as Calum watched it dissipate into the night sky. His gaze flickered back to his friends, the glow of the tiki torches’ flames dancing across their shadowed features as they looked over the menus the host had given them. Calum looked to his left, observing the ocean that lay before them beyond the restaurant deck. The tides weren’t severe, a soft lull of water tickling the shore every so often, the sound nearly muted over the chatter of his friends.

The breeze was calming against his skin, a pleasant contrast to the warm weather. Florida heat was different than Californian heat, enough to prompt him to put on a pair of linen shorts his mother had advised him to pack. He hated wearing shorts, unless they were his athletic pairs and he was on his way to the gym. But jeans felt too restricting, and the whole point of this vacation was to let go. To relax and enjoy the company of the only people he truly enjoyed being around. It wasn’t off to the greatest start, considering he was already on his fourth—fifth?—cigarette today. He was supposed to be cutting off.

As if reading his mind, Ashton huffed to his right. “Hey, come on—none of that,” he said, frowning as he reached over to pluck the cigarette out of Calum’s hand. He let him, watching blankly as his dimpled friend snubbed it out in the ashtray on the table. Leaning back in his chair, Ashton shot him a look. “You’re supposed to be quitting.”

Calum scoffed lightly, arms crossed over his chest as he, too, remained leaned back. The breeze hit his face gently, the flames of the tiki torches dancing against the night sky as Calum shot Ashton a look. “I’m not much of a quitter.” He paused, a corner of his mouth quirking up wryly, feeling Ashton’s gaze on him as he added as an afterthought, “At least, I wasn’t.”

He didn’t even have to look at Ashton to know his friend easily picked up on the resentment coloring his tone, a bitter taste in his mouth as he thought of the moment that pushed him over the edge, eventually leading him to book a three month vacation. He wasn’t sure why Dawn getting married had churned at his heart so harshly; they’d broken up over two years ago—she was, by all accounts, free to live her life the way she pleased. Not that she hadn’t been when they were together, but Calum hadn’t expected her to be getting married.

Correction: he hadn’t expected her to be getting married to someone who wasn’t him.

Next to him, he heard Ashton sigh over the chatter of their friends and the other patrons sitting around them, feeling Ashton give his shoulders a squeeze. Calum merely pursed his lips, eyes on the snubbed out cigarette in the ashtray, ears only focused on the gentle crash of waves and crackle of the tiki torch fire as, from the corner of his eye, he saw a figure approach their table.

He didn’t look up, not until he heard them say, “Good evening, everyone. I’m Nura and I’ll be your server for tonight—can I start you off with some drinks?”

Calum head raised, gaze flickering up to the waitress who was also behind the reception desk when they checked in earlier in the day, only this time she was in the glow of the torches and the moon above and wearing a different uniform. This one was a standard white blouse tucked into black pants, a notepad in her hand and her dark hair once again in that slicked back pony tail. An easy going smile was present on her red lips, yet he didn’t miss the way the corners of her lips subtly strained when her dark eyes met his, his presence apparently not one she wanted to be in.

That was a first.

He kept his gaze on her, stubbornly so, as she jotted down the drink orders his friends were saying until, ultimately, Nura’s eyes met his. She expectantly watched him, waiting, and Calum found himself wanting her to wait it out. Testing her patience, almost. He wasn’t quite too sure why he was doing it, but Calum kind of enjoyed the way her pen was already impatiently tapping against the notepad she held. Nura’s eyes twitched into slight narrowing, and he saw the exact moment where she picked up what he was trying to do—it hadn’t taken her long.

Nura remained silent, brown eyes on brown, an intensity present in hers that told Calum she didn’t at all appreciate his childish antics despite the small, polite smile that remained on her lips. And they were childish, Calum knew. Yet he didn’t stop. He wanted to see how long she would hold out, despite the curious and confused gazes of his friends watching them. Their silence was louder than when they talked, the absence of their voices making room for the suffocating quiet Calum had been wanting to avoid.

The curl of Nura’s lips were now twinged with an unpleasantness reserved just for him. “And for you, sir?”

She’d lasted about forty-eight seconds, which in hindsight, was a long time to remain numbingly silent in an unforeseen standoff such as this one. In the expectant pout of her lips, Calum fought the urge to smirk at the annoyance that tightened her mouth as well, clearly bristling at being the one who had to submit first. One corner of his own lips curled up, not entirely a smirk, as he told her, “Whiskey on the rocks.”

She was gone with a sharp turn of her heel and fierce swish of her ponytail, and as Nura left, Luke scoffed from across the table. “Are you trying to get her to spit in your drink?”

His words earned some laughter from everyone else, and Calum merely scoffed as he lifted his left elbow to rest on the bannister of the wooden railing they were seated next to. He scratched at the back of his head leisurely, uncaring as he gave a one shouldered shrug. His gaze only briefly swept over in the direction of which Nura had left before smirking at his friend. “She’s too much of a professional to do that.”

Crystal raised her eyebrows, an amused grin tilting at her glossed lips. “Oh, and you know her so well?”

Calum smirked lazily as the scent of the flames on the tiki torches tickled his nose. It was a familiar combination, mixing in with the salty sea breeze, something he’d smelled whenever he attended a bonfire on the beach back in California. Here, though, it was fresher. More intoxicating. “No, but she never stopped smiling,” he informed, his words prompting Crystal to scoff in disbelief. “She’s the type to smile at customers and talk shit about them behind their back—but she’d never actually do anything to jeopardize her job.”

“Don’t think she’d appreciate you psychoanalyzing her, man,” Michael chortled from next to Crystal, leaned back with his arm draped on top of her chair.

Rolling his eyes with a click of his tongue, Calum waved Michael off. His tone was bored as he responded, “Doubt she’ll care, so long as she’s gettin’ paid.”

Ashton shot him a disapproving look, one that Calum promptly ignored by shifting his gaze back out to the ocean. He heard them move on from his maybe insensitive comment rather than chastising him for it beyond the look Ashton had given him. Calum wasn’t in the mood to listen, they all knew that. So he watched the ocean, the moonlight glimmering against the ripples of the water and the silhouettes of people walking upon the white sand, feeling the urge to sink his own toes into the sand before diving into the inviting water.

Everything about the resort spoke to its tranquility; the rooms didn’t even have television that would pull them into the real world. Wi-Fi availability was a given, sure, but the suites themselves didn’t come equipped with TVs or anything like that, giving guests the opportunity to relax with the help of technology. Calum was ready for it. He didn’t want to reach for his phone anymore, didn’t want to open up his laptop and somehow stumble upon something he knew would upset him. This vacation was to help him get out of his own head; a resort such as this, as well as his guitar tucked away in his suite, should be enough to help him out. Being trapped in his own head never did him any good. Why worry about his ex’s wedding when he could wonder about how many times he could go scuba diving in three months?

He listened to Luke and Sierra talk about their excitement for the impending dolphin encounter they definitely wanted to take part in, silently wondering if he should take a look at the different activities the island offered. It would serve as a distraction, wouldn’t it?

Footsteps caught his attention as Nura approached the table, a tray in her hand filled with glasses. “Here we are,” she smiled, moving around the table to put down the appropriate glass in front of each of them. The act was followed by polite thank you’s spilling from everyone’s lips, while Calum merely met her eyes as he picked up his glass and took a sip.

If Nura was perturbed by his lack of gratitude, she didn’t let it show as she tucked the tray under her arm and clicked her pen. Gaze sweeping over the table, she asked, “Are we ready to order?” Her question was met with a hum of approval and she started with Luke before moving around the table, quickly writing down everyone’s orders. When she got to Calum, however, he was mildly surprised when she raised an eyebrow and innocently asked, “Would you like another minute?”

Clearly she was still irritated with his earlier antic with the drink order, tilting her head at him as Calum pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, fighting the smirk from appearing. The patronizing tone wasn’t one she tried to hide, and Calum could tell his friends had picked up on it as well, trying not to laugh at his expense. Not that he was embarrassed. Mildly surprised and impressed, but never embarrassed. “No,” he answered with a lift of his chin, not one to break eye contact as he closed the menu and offered her a tight smile of his own. “I’ll have the shrimp and spaghetti skillet.”

Nura didn’t say anything, instead just wrote down his order and Calum wondered if she was fighting the urge to roll her eyes. As she collected the menus, a man standing in the doorway that led to the indoor dining area called her name. “Nura—I gotta step out for a few minutes, mind getting behind the bar?”

She looked over her shoulder, giving him a nod as she answered, “Sure thing, Ted.” Then, smiling at the rest of them, she said, “I’ll be back with your food.”

Before she left, though, Michael raised his eyebrows. “Are you a bartender, too?” With an impressed scoff, he asked, “What don’t you do around here?”

Nura let out a soft chuckle, menus in one hand and the tray in the other. “Uh,” she pretended to consider for a moment with her face scrunched and an eye squinting shut. Calum took a sip of his whiskey, focusing on the spicy taste rather than cute expression of the waitress. “Housekeeping—I hate making my own bed, never mind someone else’s.”

Her response enticed laughter from the table, smiling as she chuckled along before her eyes met Calum’s. He wasn’t as engaged as the rest of them, sipping his drink and threatening to empty his glass before his food even arrived. Nura’s smile lessened as she pressed her lips together, looking away from him and nodding at the rest of them as she repeated, “I’ll be back with your food.”

The air was lighter to breathe once she left, and while Calum didn’t quite understand the tension he created with someone on his first day here, he also didn’t quite care enough to fix it.

Fuck. He either cared too much or not at all. He needed to find a balance, fast, before he drove himself crazy.

*****

Yoga hadn’t ever been something Nura was interested in. She preferred a good cardio workout, maybe blow off some steam with a willing partner in bed, but yoga hadn’t ever been on her radar. But somehow she’d ended up in a yoga class during the fall semester of her junior year at college and decided it was something she actually enjoyed. It woke her up, made her in tune with her body and reveled in the stretch of her muscles. Which was why on the days her shift didn’t start until later, her day would still start with the sun coming up and partaking in morning prayers before leaving her room to make it to the eight-thirty yoga class the resort offered to its guests.

The sessions were held on a large deck facing the beach, the sun already warming them as the crash of waves along the shore served as a peaceful soundtrack behind the voice of the instructor. It was easy for Nura to get lost in the tranquility of the practice, allowing herself this moment’s peace before jumping into the rigorous activities her job required from her. While the rest of the class would go off to enjoy the resort, Nura would be getting ready to dive into an eight to ten hour long work day. Yoga in the morning was just one way to ensure she didn’t lose her mind, even if she was in the company of women who attended classes with dangling earrings and designer leggings and sports bras.

“Heard you had front desk duty yesterday,” Christy, the yoga instructor, hummed once class was wrapped. With a knowing smile, she asked, “How’d that go?”

Nura scoffed, shouldering the bag that had her yoga mat rolled in. “Turns out some people are just as irritable checking in as they are before they get their food,” she responded, keeping her voice appropriately low in case a guest or two heard her.

Christy’s grin widened with a chuckle, reaching up to tighten her pony tail, the action only reminding Nura of having to take out her space-buns when she got ready for her shift. “Don’t you just love humans?”

Nura’s expression fell flat, voice dry as she returned, “Not particularly.” Checking the time on her watch, she let out a breath and said, “Alright, I gotta go get ready. I’ll see you later, Chris.”

Her friend waved in return. “Happy waitressing.”

To get to her own suite, Nura had to trek past a cluster of guest state suites, but it was a walk she enjoyed. The trees stood tall all around her, leaves surviving as a canopy to shield from the sunlight. No matter where you stood on the island, the sound of the ocean could always be heard, soft and steady as the waves fell upon the shore. The salty air tickled Nura’s nose pleasantly, a scent she’d become accustomed to as it mixed in with the fresh citrus smell that clung to the island as a whole. It smelled like home.

It hadn’t always felt that way. Nura had gotten her job at the resort the summer she turned sixteen, serving as a lifeguard and occasionally a waitress. It was a two hour drive from her home in Homestead, and not a journey her mom was particularly fond of her taking, but it was the best job offer she received at the time. The money was good, as were the accommodations, but Nura was only thinking of it financially. Whatever money she didn’t use for herself, she sent to her mom to help out. Being a single mother working as a teacher, supporting two kids, Nura did her best to make it as easy for her mom as possible. 

Biting the inside of her cheek, Nura reminded herself to call her mom when it was both their lunch breaks.

The sound of something melodic pulled Nura out of her reverie, her steps slowing as the strum broke through her thoughts. She furrowed her eyebrows, eyes darting around to trace the sound before her gaze lifted a bit to land on the back porch of one of the bungalows. Nura stopped, eyebrows raising when she caught sight of one of the guests she’d checked in as well as served the other day. The kind of rude one with dark hair and admittedly handsome face—Calum, she remembered.

Her grip on the strap of her yoga bag tightened, head tilting ever so slightly as she observed him sitting on the porch. He hadn’t noticed her, and the porch wasn’t too far from where she was, and Nura noticed the ink that was wrapped around his arm coloring his chest. Calum was oblivious to her presence where she stood on the sandy pathway, head ducked as his fingers plucked at the strings of the guitar he was playing.

It sounded nice, whatever he was playing, a consistent tune that streamed through the towering trees and was carried by the island breeze. Nura couldn’t help but think how it fit him, the broody, kind of asshole musician vibe he apparently owned. She knew it was probably unfair of her to label him so negatively, since she only had two interactions with the man, but Nura had become an expert in reading people based on how they treated her and/or the way they acted in general. You would think people would be their most relaxed self on vacation, but Nura had come to understand that more often than not, these people were running away from whatever their reality was back home.

Nura let out a breath and maybe Calum heard it, or he just looked up at that exact moment, but his eyes landed on hers and she saw the quirk of his eyebrow as he recognized just who happened to be watching him. She watched the way his chin lifted, fingers ceasing their work on the string as the guitar remained resting on his thighs, and even from where she stood, Nura could see the way his eyes narrowed in observation. Could feel his gaze take in the sight of her and hated that wherever his gaze seemed to linger on her body, she felt a warmth spark without her wanting it to.

“This isn’t a free show,” he called out, deep voice carrying a rasp that traveled with his arguably annoyed voice.

Nura bit her tongue, eyebrows lowering into a frown at his words as she ignored the warmth that bloomed in her cheeks. But biting the tip of her tongue didn’t seem to be enough, and it was like Nura lost all control of her mouth as she instantly retorted, “Wouldn’t pay for one, either.”

Her breath hitched in her throat, eyes widening as she heard her own words echo in her ears and saw the way Calum raised his eyebrows. Shit. For six years, she’d become so good at keeping her mouth shut, at always waiting for a guest to be out of sight and earshot if she ever wanted to voice the irritated, mocking thoughts that ran through her head during interactions she could do without. Never had Nura allowed for a resort guest to hear the way she occasionally badmouthed them—she couldn’t help it. Dealing with uptight, self-righteous rich people was difficult and Nura had to blow off some steam some way. 

But never in their presence. And now here she was—talking back to a guest right to their face.

She felt mortified, especially knowing if this got back to her boss, Mr. McNulty, she’d be in deep shit because the guests were basically the gods around here. Nura held her breath in her lungs, eyes wide and lips parting as her frozen brain tried to break out an apology—though, apologizing to Calum, who Nura was slowly realizing looked something akin to amused, was not how she wanted to start off her morning.

Calum scoffed, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he gave a challenging tilt of his head. “Excuse me?”

Was amused the right word? He looked surprised at her response, as if no one had ever close to insulted him to his face before. Maybe they hadn’t. Nura had been around the filthy rich long enough to know they only ever were told what they wanted to hear, always kept happy because they had money and were therefore superior to them. A bunch of bullshit, in Nura’s opinion. But she needed the money they were so willing to spend, so she stayed silent and did her job. Until now, it seemed.

Though apologizing to the dark haired man tasted bitter in her mouth and she wanted to do nothing but spit out another dry remark, Nura still managed to stammer out a quick, “I, uh, I’m sorry.” She forced herself to move on, feet moving quickly as the warmth in her cheeks intensified, uncaring of some of the sand slipping into her flip flops as she went and all too aware of the intense gaze burning a hole in her back that seared through her clothes.

Nura could only hope he wouldn’t file a complaint. She knew of guests who did so for much less.

*****

“Aw, man—you gotta stop with that.”

Calum instantly exited out of the app and locked his phone, dropping the device on the space between his legs as he remained sitting on the poolside chair. But it was too little, too late given that Ashton had seen exactly what Calum had been doing on his phone, and the brown eyed man let out a defeated huff as he linked his fingers together. Feeling the need to defend himself, Calum grumbled, “It’s not like I’m hung up on her.”

Ashton pursed his lips, a shadow of a dimple appearing under the scruff he’d decided to sport while on vacation. His hazel eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, but Calum knew his best friend well enough to know he wore a look of disapproval. “No, you’re just hung up on the fact that she’s getting married.”

The inside of his cheek would soon start bleeding with the way his teeth were biting into it, lips pursing at Ashton’s words as the sun beat down his back. “It’s not that, either,” Calum responded, voice quiet among the hum of the beach. Ahead of them, he could see their friends enjoying the clear blue water of the ocean, the music playing from Michael’s speaker next to them consistent. 

He could hear the confusion in Ashton’s voice as he asked, “Then what is it?”

That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it?

He didn’t miss Dawn—Calum knew that for a fact. They’d dated for seven months and Calum liked her enough to stay with her that long, but deep down, he’d always known they weren’t together for the right reasons. He’d wanted a warm body at night, a hand to hold at events, and she. . . She’d wanted his money. Calum had always kept that thought in the back of his head, not wanting to think about it too much but not allowing himself to forget about it, either. He’d known it, his friends had known it, and yet Calum kept Dawn around a lot longer than he should’ve. 

Finding another girl to fall in bed with would’ve been easy. But then it would be the same thing all over again, wouldn’t it? Just another person wanting to get into his pockets. That’s how it was with almost every person Calum met, except for the friends he’d escaped to Florida with. Except he’d escaped with a hollow pit in his chest and a bitter taste in his mouth. He was lucky his friends hadn’t called him out on his less than enthusiastic attitude, even if they’d only been here for three days. The point of being here was to forget about the shit that seemed to weigh him down back home and so far, he wasn’t doing too good of a job at it.

Calum rolled his lips into his mouth, dragging his upper teeth along his lower lip before letting out a long sigh. “I don’t know,” was all he could say to Ashton. And it was the truth.

They were silent for a moment, listening to the buzz of the beach around them, and Calum knew Ashton was trying to find some words of comfort, encouragement, support for him. Calum appreciated it, but he didn’t need to hear them—nor did he need them, period. Calum didn’t need pity over a problem he couldn’t even figure out. What he needed was to forget about it altogether.

Apparently Ashton seemed to have the same idea.

“Come on—let’s get a drink,” he declared, clapping Calum’s back as he stood up.

Calum followed him with his eyes as Ashton veered off to the right, before sighing and standing up as well to walk with him. Unsurprisingly, Ashton filled the silence between them, talking about a new band he’d discovered while fooling around on Spotify that he thought Calum would like. And although his mind felt heavy, Calum still remembered the name Ashton mentioned to look them up later. New music was always something Calum was looking for.

They made their way to the beach cabana bar, dodging groups of people playing tanning and kids making sandcastles as they went. The kids were few, Calum noticed. Most of the guests were either people his age, or those older wanting to enjoy a vacation without their kids, probably having left them behind with grandparents or nannies. Calum pursed his lips; that’s how it had been with him. His parents had always been busy with the distillery or some other kind of business that always took priority; loving when they were around, completely absent when they weren’t.

“Hey—Nura, right?” Ashton’s laugh cut through Calum’s thought, forcing him to blink back into reality as his gaze zeroed in on the woman behind the round bar. Oh, great. Calum took in a breath as he gripped the edge of the bar and braced himself on it, watching as the front desk girl-slash-waitress turned to face them. Her pink lips lifted into a smile directed towards Ashton, faltering ever so slightly when her dark eyes met Calum’s. Ashton folded his arms on top of the bar, dimpled and charming smile on his own face as he introduced, “I’m Ashton, and you already know Calum.”

“I do.” She didn’t sound too excited about that, and Calum found himself having to fight back a smirk as she stood in front of them, bracing her own hands on the bar. Unlike this morning when he’d seen her in leggings and a fitted tank looking like she’d just come back from an early morning workout, Nura now wore the familiar white blouse with a name tag. “What can I get for you?”

Before Calum could answer, Ashton said, “Two tequila sunrises, please.” Then, turning to Calum, Ashton continued, “You know what you need?”

Dragging his gaze away from Nura, who’d immediately pulled away to make the drinks, Calum raised an eyebrow at Ashton, voice dry as he rebuked, “Other than a three month vacation?”

His friend chuckled. “Well, that, but also a big ass, five course meal that I’m pretty sure we can set up for dinner tonight,” Ashton said, an excited grin on his face. “A private dinner type of thing right on the beach. That can be done—right, Nura?”

Nura, who had just returned in front of them to place down their drinks, raised an eyebrow at her sudden inclusion in the conversation. She looked at Ashton before shifting her gaze to Calum, surprise evident on her face before she looked back to the dimpled man. “Oh, uh, yes it can. You just give the front desk a call and they’ll set it up for you.”

“Awesome,” Ashton grinned, slapping the bar top with his free hand, the other wrapped around the glass as he pulled himself away from the bar. “Thanks, Nura.”

While Ashton was already walking back to where their friends were, Calum had been pulling out his wallet to pay for the drinks. He placed down the money, eyes drifting to the tip jar that already had a bunch of bills inside. Calum scoffed lightly before pulling out some more bills, folding them up as his gaze lifted to Nura. She was drying a glass, gaze on her own actions, seemingly making it a point to not look towards Calum as she pretended to listen to a conversation some other customers were having on the other side.

A corner of Calum’s lips curled up at her obvious disinterest, arm folding on the bar top to lean forward as he held the folded bills up between two fingers. Nura looked over, raising an eyebrow, and Calum tilted his head ever so slightly. Before he could help himself, he mused, “Unlike you, I’m capable of being nice.”

A surge of satisfaction shot through him at the way Nura’s lips parted at his words, eyes narrowing as she watched him purposefully stuff the bills in the tip jar. She wasn’t hiding the irritation that sparked through her brown eyes, his smug act of kindness one that obviously seemed to tick her off. Nura scoffed lightly, taking two steps towards him, hands braced on the bar and showing Calum the thin silver chain she wore around her neck which hid beneath her shirt. 

He could clearly see the way his words had prickled at her skin, pink lips in a tight smile as she returned, “There’s a different between being nice and being decent. You’re only just barely proving yourself to be the latter.”

Calum scoffed through his nose, his smirk still on his lips despite the shot she’d taken at him—one that did, strangely enough, both amused him and threatened to rile him up. He remained put longer than necessary, brown eyes locked onto hers, momentarily wondering if she was going to apologize for the snappy comment like she had earlier this morning. He wondered if the slight pinkness across the apples of her cheeks was because of the Florida heat or something else.

“Nura.” A voice cut in, and she finally broke her gaze and Calum looked over her shoulder to see another resort employee step behind the bar. “Time for your break; you gonna take fifteen or the full hour?”

Nura was already untying the black waist apron she wore. “Hour. I gotta pray and call my mom,” she informed the other worker, folding the apron under the bar before moving to get out. Calum pushed himself away from the bar, watching as Nura went, sipping his drink and smirking around the straw when she glanced at him over her shoulder before quickly turning and walking away.

Calum chuckled lowly, feeling a bit better than he had before. The pinkness in her cheeks had nothing to do with the heat, he was sure.

*****

“Nura, I need you waiting on the private dinner,” Mr. Gonzalez, the restaurant manager, informed her just as she gave the order for table seven to the kitchen. “Lorraine will cover your tables.”

Nura blinked, not entirely expecting to give up her section to serve just one table. “Oh, but—”

“No buts, Ms. Ansari,” Mr. Gonzalez cut in with a shake of his head. He’d always been a bit of an impatient man. “They specifically asked for you, so go. They’re ready to order drinks.”

He didn’t give her any room to argue, already turning away as Nura defeatedly pressed her lips together and exhaled sharply through her nose. She had a feeling she knew exactly whose private party that was—especially if they specifically requested for her. Tightening her pony tail, she made her way towards the doors of the restaurant that led to the outdoor seating before following the path down to the private area of the table on the beach. As she neared the table, the chatter reaching her ears along with the distant sound of the ocean, her suspicions were proven correct when she recognized Calum, Ashton, and the rest of their friends.

“Good evening, guys,” she greeted, putting on her best customer service smile once she was by them.

“Evenin’, Nura—great seeing you again.” The smug patronizing tone wasn’t lost on Nura as her gaze darted to Calum, who was grinning up at her a bit too widely. Truth be told, if any of them, other than Calum, had been the one to request her service, Nura wouldn’t have minded. From the few interactions she’d had with them, they all seemed like genuinely nice people. Nura knew how to pick them out from the ones who smiled to her face but had less kinder thoughts running through their minds. Calum’s friends didn’t seem like those type—Calum, on the other hand, was a different story.

And as much as she didn’t want to give into his contempt, had taught herself better, Nura couldn’t help but return, a bit dryly, “I’ll bet, especially since I’m told I was specifically asked for.”

Calum leaned forward, arms crossed on the table as he looked up at her from where he sat on the right side of the table, the other end from her sitting next to a pretty blonde haired woman. “You were such a wonderful waitress last time and served us so well—we didn’t wanna mix it up.”

His patronizing words sunk deeply in Nura’s bones, and though she fought to keep the effect of his statement off her face, it didn’t stop Nura from clenching her jaw and tightening her grip on the pen. She noticed the looks the others at the table were sending Calum, silent warnings, but he didn’t seem to care. Why would he? She was just the help—it never mattered to people like him that their words could have any kind of impact, big or small, on the people whose job it was to make sure they were happy.

Her skin was warm, Nura could feel it under his douchey smirk. And while hate was a strong word she never used lightly, Calum was really coming close to it. Who the hell did he think he was, so blatantly poking at her profession? This wasn’t what she wanted to do for the rest of her life, and even if it was, who the hell gave him the right to shit on it? Nura knew people like him; they either built themselves from the ground up, or never had to work a day in their life and were rich off the expense of everyone else.

One look at Calum, she knew it was the latter.

A fire simmering in the pit of her stomach, Nura ignored Calum’s words, forcing politeness into her tone as she asked the rest of the table, “Can I get you started with some drinks?”

They all seemed to slowly snap out of the looks they were sending Calum, one by one telling her of their orders as Ashton took it upon himself to order the first round of appetizers as well. Nura jotted it all down with a riled up flushed face, barely looking at any of them as she quickly said, “I’ll be back with your drinks.”

She turned around to leave, only making it a few feet away when she heard one of the girls say, “Cal, what the hell’s gotten into you?”

At least not all of them were assholes.

Nura didn’t stay long at the table after dropping off their drinks, heading back inside to check on their appetizers before bringing the dishes of a shrimp platter and fried calamari to the table. The minutes of taking their orders for their entrees had passed by in a blur, settling into reality only for the brief moment of telling the blue eyed, blonde guy the specials of the night. She didn’t bother looking at Calum as he told her his order, thought she wasn’t immune to his gaze resting heavily upon her.

A polite, “Your food will be ready shortly,” later, and Nura was gone.

She found herself in the bathroom after dropping off their orders in the kitchen, sighing as she stepped out of the stall to go wash her hands. Her frustration had settled a bit since first hearing Calum’s words, though she still couldn’t believe the audacity of the guy. Just because he had money, didn’t give him the right to basically insult her in front of her friends. And although Nura had tough skin, it didn’t mean nothing got to her. Was it so damn hard to treat another human being with respect?

As she dried her hands with the air dryer, she heard the ladies’ room door open, turning when she heard her name being called. She looked over her shoulder to see the blonde girl from Calum’s table, turning around once the dryer stopped as the woman offered her an apologetic small. “I just want to apologize for Calum,” she said, heels clicking on the linoleum floor of the bathroom. “I’m not trying to make excuses for him, but honestly, he’s normally not so rude.” She was nervously twisting a ring on her left hand, and Nura wasn’t surprised to see the rock that was on her ring finger. “He’s just going through something.”

Nura wanted to laugh. This woman seemed nice, and although she said she wasn’t trying to make excuses for Calum, it sure sounded like she was. Chin lifting, Nura let out a breath through her nose and surmised, “Everyone’s going through something. It doesn’t give him the excuse to patronize others.”

She nodded quickly, and Nura was jealous of how shiny her blonde hair was under the bright lights, or how her blue eyes seemed to glitter as well. “You’re absolutely right.” She offered another small smile. “I just wanted to apologize on his behalf.”

It would be better if Calum decided to take responsibility for his own words, but Nura appreciated the sentiment nonetheless. So she returned the smile with a single nod. “Thank you, uh. . .”

“Crystal,” she supplied, finally naming herself with a grin.

Nura smiled once again before taking a breath and awkwardly gesturing towards the door. “I should, uh, go check on your food.”

“Oh, right, of course,” Crystal laughed lightly, stepping aside to let Nura pass.

Nura made it halfway down the hall of the bathroom before stopping abruptly when someone turned the corner to walk in her direction, teeth instantly pressing together when she recognized Calum. He stopped as well, as soon as he saw her, chin lifting and lips parting as he let out a short yet amused chuckle. The sound irritably poked at Nura’s nerves, no matter how stupidly handsome the guy was.

Pursing her lips, she broke their gaze and continued on her way, determined to make it past him without so much as uttering a word. But Calum seemed to have a different thought in mind, because as soon as there was about three feet of distance between them, he spoke up.

“I’m surprised you didn’t fire back like you’re so fond of doing,” he hummed, effectively stopping Nura in her tracks as her dark eyes met his. Calum looked down at her, full lips adorning that damned smirk as the chain around his neck glimmered under the light. With a condescending quirk of his eyebrow, he added, “Wouldn’t want your boss finding out ’bout your lack of customer service, huh?”

Nura narrowed her eyes, tilting her head as her skin flushed once more in an angry heat. Fuck—what was up with this guy? Arms crossing over her chest, Nura threw caution out the window. She’d already shot back at Calum more than once, at this point, despite her constant professionalism for the past six years, she didn’t quite care. “What would you know about customer service?” she asked, taking the few steps towards him, undeterred by their significant height difference as she looked up at him. 

Nura then pointedly gave him a once over; the chillier weather for tonight warranted the Dr. Martens, black pants, tucked in shirt and leather jacket he wore. And pushing aside the thought of how good he looked—and ignoring the flutter in her stomach at the jewelry he also adorned and how everything looked stupidly perfect on him—Nura scoffed. “I doubt you’ve worked a day in your life. Only someone with a lack of appreciation for hard work would be so casual in basically threatening someone else’s job.”

His eyebrows lowered into a frown, the muscle in his jaw jumping as his expression transformed instantly. With a rasp in his voice, Calum returned, “I didn’t threaten your fuckin’ job.”

She scoffed with a roll of her eyes, shaking her head up at him. Of course he didn’t understand the implication behind his own words. People like him had no problem saying shit if it meant they could show off their own superiority, and it pissed Nura off. “Oh, you didn’t?” she asked innocently with a tilt of her head before her eyebrows knitted together in a glare. “Then what was that about my boss finding out about my lack of customer service?” Calum pursed his lips and Nura saw the way his throat worked, saw it in his dark, conflicting eyes that he knew she was right. “Money doesn’t give you the right to look down on others. It doesn’t make you better than anyone else. Now if you’ll excuse me—” She stepped back, neck tense as she took a breath in order to calm herself down, brown eyes meeting, what she could almost say, were disgruntled brown. “—I have to go check on your food.”

She walked past him without another word, without letting him say another word, with shoulders squared and head held high and the image of his taken aback, disgruntled expression seared into her head. Even if the anger swirled in her stomach and her skin was flushed with an indignant embarrassment as she curled her fingers into her palms, nails digging into her skin so her outrage didn’t lift her. Hate was a strong word, and while Nura didn’t feel it for the tattooed man behind her, she did feel it for the way he made her feel like she was lesser than.

*****

Pulling her hair out of the tight ponytail it had been in all day was something short of a sweet relief—she’d only feel completely relaxed when her bra was off, too. But for now, Nura settled for her dark hair falling around her shoulders as she ran her fingers through it, feeling the dull ache of a sore scalp as she approached the still open bar in the resort restaurant. It was late, nearly eleven at night, and most of the resort had cleared out save for the few guests milling around. Nura was off the clock, and that’s all that mattered.

“You look like you could use a drink,” the main bartender on duty, Riley, grinned from behind the bar, already fixing up a drink for her.

Nura huffed, leaning forward on the bar as he made the bourbon on the rocks. “Some toddler almost threw up on me. I think I prefer it when the snakes leave their kids at home.”

Riley sighed dreamily as he slid the cup over to her. “Don’t we all?”

Nura chuckled, raising the cup in silent cheers before taking a sip. Patting the bar top with her free hand, she told him, “I’m gonna get some fresh air. Thanks, Riley.”

He waved her off and she left the restaurant, walking towards the pool area. It was locked off to prevent guests from sneaking inside after hours for safety reasons, of course, but there was one gate that didn’t lock properly and maintenance never got around to fix it. The thought always made Nura scoff in contemptuous amusement, given the status of the resort and the lack of upkeep for this particular gate. But she never said anything, not when she could get into the area so easily. Not to mention the several blind spots from the security cameras.

Seriously. What were they paying millions of dollars per year for? The rich never failed to amuse her.

Nura settled down on a poolside chair, watching the pristine blue water ripple in front of her, glowing with the in-pool lights. The silent hum with the ever-present ocean waves was calming as she sipped her drink, arms resting on her knees and figure crouched forward as she sat. Nura loved sitting by the pool at night when no one was around, the usual busy hum of guests splashing and chattering away something that had gotten tiring very quickly. And with the dark sky above her, glittering with stars, it was a calming way to unwind before she headed back into her room to turn in.

“Drinking on the job?”

Nura prided herself in not letting out a startled scream at the sudden voice, head whipping to her right to follow the sound, sitting up straight when she saw Calum standing over her. He wore athletic shorts and a white and red shirt, right arm wrapped around the neck of the guitar she’d seen him playing the other day. Her heart had began racing, but calmed down when she realized there was no threat—not a physical one, anyway.

She pursed her lips, adopting a bland expression as she quirked an eyebrow up at him. “Do you see the company name anywhere on me?” she retorted tiredly, referencing to her lack of name tag that was now in the pocket of her pants. How did he even get in there?

Calum pursed his lips and Nura looked out towards the pool again, feeling her muscles tense in his presence. She hadn’t seen him for a few days, ever since she waited on his table for their private dinner. After her little confrontation with him in the hallway—which, frankly, she was surprised she hadn’t heard about from her boss—Nura had put on a smile for the rest of the table and didn’t stick around longer than necessary. Saying that she regretted giving Calum an earful would be a lie; something told her he didn’t have many people talk back to him the way she did, and doing so was as much for herself as it was for him. The guy needed to be brought down a peg or two, and although Nura couldn’t be sure it did the trick, it felt damn good to say what she wanted to.

The look on his face had been pretty fucking satisfying, too.

“Can I sit?”

Nura felt her eyebrows wanting to furrow together at Calum’s words, but she kept her expression blank as she lifted the cup up to her lips and plainly said, “You’re the guest.”

She heard him sigh quietly, exasperatedly, before sitting down on the poolside chair to her right as she took a long sip. A silence settled upon them, awkward and heavy and Nura held back from snapping at him for ruining her peace and quiet. Dozens of other chairs around the pool and he had to pick the one next to her. What damn game was he playing?

Nura looked down at her cup, the drink teasing her just as an unfamiliar scent overpowered the chlorine of the pool. Fresh, kind of citrusy, tickling her nose in a pleasant way. Nura bit the inside of her lower lip when she quickly realized it was whatever cologne Calum was wearing; fuck, of course he smelled good. Of course whatever designer perfumed he owned smelled like a fucking forest god or something. It only served to annoy Nura more.

“I wanted to apologize.” Her eyebrows drew together in a frown, not looking towards Calum as his words resonated in her ears. What? “For what I said the other day. I didn’t—I don’t think I’m better than anyone just because I have money.”

There was a tense discomfort in his voice as he spoke, particularly when he acknowledged whatever financial upper hand he had. Nura knew, instantly, she’d struck a nerve when she had thrown it in his face and, truthfully, she was surprised he was even making the move to apologize. She had dealt with many people on this resort, and most of of them never even considered apologizing to the staff for things said and done. And they were meant to just deal with it with smiles on their faces. 

Hearing Calum apologize, especially when he clearly felt so out of his element because of it, was refreshing. And Nura didn’t take that lightly.

“I’m also sorry for the way I’ve treated you since I got here.” Oh, he was still going. This time, Nura did look at him, brown eyes meeting apologetic brown, showing him that she was listening. The guitar was on his lap—he was practically hugging it, like a security blanket, which was oddly endearing—and his features had settled into soft solemnity. With a breathy, sheepish chuckle, he added, “I know I didn’t make the best first, second or third impression but I swear I’m not usually such a—”

“Self-righteous dick?” Nura supplied, unable to help herself and rolling her lips into her mouth, cheeks flushing. He was trying to apologize and she was basically insulting him.

But Calum let out another chuckle, this one more accepting as he nodded. “Yeah,” he said. Then his lips curled up a bit, a ghost of his signature smirk appearing as he added, “I mean, I’m a dick but not that shitty.”

That had her laughing lightly, some of the tension between them rising into the night sky, allowing Nura to relax slightly as she offered a shrug. It was weird, feeling even a little bit at ease around Calum, but she didn’t find herself minding it too much. “Well, I can be bitch but normally not to that extent.”

With a quirk of his eyebrow, Calum allowed his smirk to widen a bit as he said, “Dare I say we bring it out in each other?”

Nura scoffed with a single shake of her head. “If that’s true then there’s no hope for civility between us.”

Calum grinned a boyish, lower lip biting smile that was a bit too handsome on his face, and Nura took a sip of her drink when she noted the sharp lines of the crinkles by his otherwise soft, smiling eyes. “’S going well so far,” he pointed out as Nura swallowed the sip, watching as he raised the little red pick he’d been twirling between his fingers. “You mind if I. . ?”

“That depends,” Nura hummed, feeling the smirk tug at the corners of her lips. “Is it a free show?”

Calum’s eyes danced with a glimmer and Nura pretended it was a trick of the moonlight as his smirk returned and he sat the guitar properly on his lap. She tried not to focus on his biceps or the ink snaking around his arm as he returned smoothly, “On the house.”

Nura suppressed a laugh, though her smile remained as Calum returned it before his attention went the instrument on his lap. She watched his fingers place themselves in what she assumed were the right places—she knew nothing about instruments—before her gaze lifted ever so slightly to his face. His head was ducked, short dark hair unable to hide the concentration that settled on his features as he took a soft, almost inaudible breath—Nura heard it in the quiet of the poolside—before he began strumming.

The melody he played was soft, tranquil tune and Nura couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. The peace she thought Calum had destroyed with his presence was instantly returned with the gentle strum of his fingers, the rings on his fingers glinting with the movement against the pool lights and the moon above. She watched him; watched the way his attention was solely on what he was playing, the movement of his fingers, and the gentle bop of his head that went along with the tune. 

It didn’t go unnoticed how lost he looked in the music he was playing, and it wasn’t lost on Nura how he was creating magic with his fingers. She knew art when she saw it, when she heard it, and although she knew he was playing a song by Coldplay, he still played it beautifully and expertly. And the more he played, the more at ease Nura found herself being, finishing off her drink and leaning back on one hand as she listened to him. Not exactly how she thought she would end the night, but truthfully. . . She couldn’t complain. As surprised as she was, she couldn’t complain.

“Nura, is that you?”

The tune that had softly filled the night immediately ceased as both Calum and Nura looked up, and she felt her jaw tighten when she caught sight of Keith Holt, the pool supervisor, approach them. He was older than her, around thirty, with surfer style shaggy light brown hair and green eyes and a goatee that made him appear a lot older than he was. She felt her grip on the cup tighten, not entirely keen on being in his presence. Truth be told, Keith kind of creeped Nura out, especially since he’d asked her out last summer and she’d said no. 

“Hi, Keith,” she returned, hoping to keep the nonchalance in her tone as he stopped in front of them.

His gaze looked from her to Calum, eyebrows raising before looking back at her. “You know you’re not supposed to be out here after hours,” he pointed out, and just the tone of his voice had her biting her tongue. Like he was chastising a child with the teasing way he spoke in. Trying to be endearing but only coming off as. . . Creepy.

“Right, right, sorry. Won’t happen again,” Nura said, her words falling quickly as she stood up. The less she could be around Keith, the better. Nura then glanced down at Calum, who had been watching along silently, and she took note of the look in his dark eyes; observant, curious. Forcing a smile, Nura said, “Come on, Calum. We should go.”

Calum met her gaze and maybe he saw the mild urgency in her eyes, the tightness of her smile, and Nura was relieved he didn’t protest it as he nodded and stood up. He gave a nod to Keith, lips flat before saying, “Sorry ’bout that, man.”

Keith watched them with sharp eyes, and just as Nura turned to go, he said, “McNulty won’t be happy if he knew you were sneaking in guests to the pool.”

Nura paused, eyes squeezing shut in exasperation and annoyance, feeling the heat of Calum’s gaze on her profile as she refrained herself from snapping at Keith. Two things he always made Nura feel: discomfort and annoyance. Opening her eyes, she planted the sweetest smile she could muster, all too aware of Calum’s gaze as she looked over her shoulder at Keith and mused, “But he won’t know, will he? Please, Keith?”

She never felt guilty for using his strange likeness of her against him. Keith returned her smile, nodding as he said, “Only because it’s you.” Gross.

“Thank you, Keith,” Nura responded before offering him a wave and making her away out of the pool area.

Her and Calum walked in silence for a few moments, and Nura dropped the plastic cup in a recycle bin they were passing by, Calum broke their quiet by scoffing. “You must dislike that guy more than me—at least with me, you’re better at faking nice,” Calum said, a lightness coloring his tone to ease the tension Nura felt in her muscles.

It had worked, surprisingly. As they walked in the general direction of the staff suites in the building behind the pool area, Nura chuckled lightly. “Just get bad vibes from him,” she chose to say. Simple, but true. She saw Calum nod from her peripheral, one hand still securely holding his guitar as he hummed once in acknowledgment. Nura licked her lips, feeling the awkwardness creep in. “Your, uh, bungalow’s that way,” she found herself adding, gesturing towards the right.

Calum followed her gesture with his eyes before nodding, brown eyes flickering down to meet hers as they walked. “I know. Thought I’d walk you back just—you know, in case.”

The sentiment wasn’t spoken but it wasn’t lost on Nura, and though Calum quickly broke their gaze when he spoke, jaw clenching as he looked straight ahead, Nura still felt her heart pathetically skip a beat. The act of walking her back, just in case Keith decided to be a creep. . . It was sweet, far more than Nura thought he was capable of. 

Fuck, he’d just played the guitar for her by the pool. She was either delirious from her long shift, or she truly couldn’t make sense of reality.

They reached the door to her suite soon enough, and as Nura pulled out her keys, the corners of her lips tilted up as she offered Calum a smile. A real, genuine one she hadn’t given him before. “Thanks for walking me back,” she said, and although the kind tone she spoke to him in felt foreign, it didn’t feel wrong. As she unlocked the door, she added with a gentle smirk, “And the free show.”

At that, Calum’s lips split into a smirk of his own, cheeks pushed up and utterly boyish as he looked down at her. She didn’t miss the way his top teeth just barely grazed his lower lip before he said, “Next one’s gonna cost ya.”

Raising an eyebrow as she opened the door, Nura shot back, “When did I say I wanted another one?”

A mock expression of hurt crossed Calum’s face, sucking in a breath through O shaped lips before he clicked his tongue. “Alright, ouch. Thought we were good now, Nura.”

She smiled, playful and mischievous as she entered her suite, flicking the light on and turning to face Calum, who stood out in the hall. He had his eyebrows raised, waiting for her response, his short laugh echoing in the hallway when all Nura did was hum back, “Maybe,” before shutting the door to end the strange night.

*****

“Fuck,” Calum breathed out, using the towel to wipe the sweat he could feel running down his back as he and Luke exited the resort gym. His triceps, chest and quads had a delicious soreness in them after the workout he and Luke decided to take part in, water bottle nearly empty from downing it. Next to him, Luke chuckled as Calum added, “That felt good.”

“Much fucking needed,” Luke agreed, using his own towel to dab at his face, letting out a sigh of relief when they stepped out of the building and out into the night. The sun had long since set, the resort fluttering with the sounds of the waves and crickets chirping, and the mildly chilly breeze felt refreshing against their warmed, worn out skin. “Hey, is that Nura?”

Calum looked at Luke, noting his narrowed blue eyes looking off ahead, and Calum followed his gaze until his own landed on the woman in question. His eyebrows raised as he saw her, taking a second to recognize the dark haired woman in something other than the resort uniform he always saw her in. Calum’s footsteps slowed without really meaning to, eyes taking in the black skirt, heels, and bandeau top she wore so damn well as her long dark hair danced lightly in the breeze. Shit.

“Hey, Nura!” Calum blinked at Luke’s sudden call, watching as Nura looked the other way before finding the two men who were approaching her—Calum more reluctantly than his best friend. “You look ready for a night out.”

Nura smiled as she took a few steps towards them as well, fingers playing with the chain of the purse that hung off her shoulder. “I am,” she confirmed and Calum distracted himself by pulling his shorts up higher on his waist and checking the time on his phone. Anything to keep himself from letting his gaze linger too long on the pretty woman in front of him. “A couple of the staff and I are going to this club a few blocks away.”

“Really?” Luke hummed, eyebrows raising and Calum had to only glance at him briefly to know what was coming next, an excited glimmer in his blue eyes. His smirk returned, a dimple popping. “Which one?”

Calum wasn’t surprised when about an hour and a half later, he ended up with his friends at the club Nura had mentioned. It wasn’t how Calum had expected the night to go after his gym session with Luke, but he hadn’t been surprised when his friends had immediately agreed to Luke’s proposal of going out, and as soon as everyone was ready, they were piling into Ubers and heading over.

Calum sat in the middle of the U-shaped couch, the table in front of him holding bottles and glasses that glimmered against the strobing blue and purple lights that flickered with the beat of music. Green laser lights flashed against Calum’s eyes every few minutes, but at this point, he’d become accustomed as he sipped from his Negroni, licking his lips as he lowered the glass and let his gaze wander.

His friends were around him, Luke and Sierra on their feet as they danced in their VIP section, singing along to the music while the rest of them remained seated on the couch. It was busy in the club, unsurprising given that it was a weekend as well as the summer, and still Calum found his gaze searching through the silhouettes of people in the dancing crowd or by the bar, trying to catch sight of the familiar face he knew to be there.

He stood eventually, feeling the mild strain in his muscles as he did so, letting out a soft grunt as he decided that he needed to stretch his legs. And if he happened to see Nura somewhere in the crowd, that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

Calum sipped his drink as he moved around, avoiding as many people as he could from rubbing up against him, shoulders shifting and moving along the wall as he went. His leather jacket stuck to his body, the heat of the club and the dozens of bodies around him only contributing to the warmth he felt, but Calum didn’t mind much—especially not when his eyes finally landed on who he was searching for.

He stopped where he stood, catching sight of Nura leaning by the bar and before he knew it, Calum was making his way over. He shouldered his way through, large frame giving him an advantage to move forward. He wasn’t sure why he’d been so adamant on seeing her, but his feet were moving without much thought and before he knew it, he was right by the bar, up to her left.

Nura seemed to be trying to get the bartender’s attention, and Calum licked his lips after taking a sip of his drink, arms folding on the bar. She didn’t notice him yet, an exasperated sigh escaping her when the bartender once again evaded her, and Calum smirked lightly. “We’ve got bottle service if you’re sick of waiting.”

She glanced over at him, eyebrows lifting in realization before she let out a gentle scoff. Nura stood straight, left hand on her hip and the other braced against the bar as she tilted her head up at him. “Then what’re you doing here?” she rebutted.

Calum looked down at her, doing his best to keep his gaze fixated on her glimmering dark eyes—never daring to go lower in fear of focusing too much on her red lips. She looked gorgeous, and although her eyelashes were long and her face was glittering with makeup, Calum knew she looked stunning all of the time. Hair tied back or loose around her shoulders, face full of makeup or completely bare—Calum could easily admit that Nura was the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. Ironic, given how much of a dick he’d been to her.

His people skills had definitely taken a hit lately.

Calum smirked at Nura, shrugging one shoulder as he easily responded, “Rescuing you.”

She scoffed almost incredulously, an amused smile lifting her lips as she locked her gaze with his. “From what?” Nura challenged, narrowing her eyes slightly. “A life without access to the advantages of money? So kind of you, Cal.”

Though her words themselves were sharp, Nura spoke them playfully, a glimmer in her eyes that told him she was just teasing. And while Calum would’ve been insulted before, he merely rolled his eyes at her, pursing his lips before returning, “You gotta be a dick about it?”

Nura grinned, a laugh escaping her as Calum scoffed out a smile as well. She pressed her smiling lips together, glancing over her shoulders and Calum recognized just a few of the faces as some of the staff at the resort, and Nura looked back at him. He saw the hesitant turn her smile took before she gave him a shake of her head. “Thanks for the offer, Calum, but we’re, uh, fine here,” she finally said, a kindness in her tone to show her appreciation for his offer. 

Calum leaned back ever so slightly as he inhaled a small, albeit surprised breath. He hadn’t entirely expected for her to reject the offer, no matter how nicely she’d done it. Calum had become all too used to people jumping on the offer of joining a table he’d bought, too used to being used for the advantages of the size of his bank account. Most people Calum had encountered only ever associated him with what he could do for them, mostly when it came to footing the bill. And while he didn’t at all mind doing it for his closest friends—especially because they never asked him to, always either offered or ended up paying for themselves—Calum had, at one point, become numb in doing it for others. He kind of expected to just do it, because others expected it from him.

Now when he was voluntarily offering to do it for someone else—someone he didn’t really know—the logical rejection had his eyebrows knitting together in confusion and curiosity. “Are you sure?” he found himself asking.

Nura nodded, waving him off. “Yeah, we’ve already got a tab going and, uh, you know—” she paused, gaze taking him in before her brown eyes lifted to meet his. “—staff and guests shouldn’t really fraternize.”

Calum raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced by her reasoning. “We’re not on resort grounds.”

She let out a short laugh, gaze averting as she gave a shake of her head before looking at him once more. With a pointed raise of her eyebrow and jut of her chin, Nura finished meaningfully, “Go back to your friends, Calum.”

He did, reluctantly and with a frown on his face, because Calum had a feeling that Nura’s guest and staff mingling reasoning was some type of bullshit—and that her real reason had something to do with her previous comment about the advantages of being in the VIP section.

Calum scoffed to himself as he took a sip of his drink and continued back to where his friends were. He was so used to people throwing themselves at him because of his money—fuck, had a whole relationship based off of it. And now, in the face of someone who actually rejected his offer because of it, Calum kind of felt at a loss. 

Though, because it was Nura, he shouldn’t be surprised. That woman wasn’t like anyone else he’d ever met. And although her comments, at first, had pricked his skin the wrong way, his mind had started to change. As he settled back down on the couch next to Kaykay, his thoughts seemed louder than the deafening music and busy hum of the club. Nura was unlike many of the people he’d encountered in his life, and that suddenly wasn’t such a bad thing.

Around forty minutes and two drinks later, Calum was leaving the bathroom, back pressing against the wall as a group of girls giggled past him as the upbeat music of the club was no longer muffled. His face scrunched as he air dried his hands, no paper towels available in the bathroom and the machine was out of service, and just as he turned the corner to enter the main part of the club, Calum came across a sight that had him slowing down, eyebrows knitting together as he watched Nura in conversation with that guy from the pool the other day. Keith, he vaguely remembered.

Except it didn’t seem to look like a conversation Nura was particularly enjoying, Keith’s figure easily looming over her shorter stature as she frowned up at him, shaking her head as she talked animatedly. The other night, Calum hadn’t been blind to the quick escape Nura had made from Keith at the pool, remembered how she had said she got “bad vibes” from the guy, and it only had an alarm bell ringing through Calum’s head when his sharp eyes caught Keith’s hand reach out to grab Nura’s, who instinctively pulled hers away.

She had said earlier she didn’t need rescuing, but Calum couldn’t, in good conscience, walk away knowing Nura wasn’t comfortable with the guy.

“Hey, Nura,” Calum smoothly stepped up to her left, catching the way she instantly looked up at him with raised eyebrows, the surprise evident in her features. She expertly wiped it off as Calum’s dark eyes met hers, an easy smile on his face as he jutted a thumb over his shoulder. “Everyone’s lookin’ for you at the table.”

Nura’s red lips parted in realization, eyes shining with relief before she smiled and nodded. “Yeah, sorry—I was just coming to you guys,” she answered. Then, looking back at Keith, who was watching them with a frown and an irritated look Calum didn’t care for much, Nura told him, “Like I said, Keith, I’m here with friends and I’m not really in the mood to leave yet.”

Calum’s jaw tightened at her words, fighting to keep the easy smile on his face though he felt his fingers curling into the palm of his hand as he realized Keith’s intentions. He stood still, feet planted in place and giving no dancing body around him the power to push into him. He wouldn’t move until Nura was going with him.

Keith looked between the two of them, failing to ease the smile he wore as he asked Nura, “Are you sure? We could—”

“I’m good, Keith,” Nura cut him off pointedly, and Calum’s lips twitched into an annoyed curl at Keith’s insistence. She was already turning away as she added, “I’ll see you later.”

Calum’s brown eyes lifted to meet Keith’s green, unapologetic about the warning glare that crossed his features as Keith’s lips thinned. Nura’s hand then grabbed Calum’s leather clad arm and was pulling him away, releasing him once they were somewhat engulfed in the crowd and over the music, she shouted to Calum, “Thanks for that.”

“No problem,” Calum responded, feeling the tension in his muscles ease now that they were away from Keith. This time, Calum grasped her arm, his touch light on her warm skin, ducking his head slightly as Nura looked up at him. “But, seriously, Nura—you and your friends should join us.”

Her lips parted, ready to object. “But—”

Rolling his eyes, Calum cut her off with a wave of his free hand. “Look, I know you don’t want to take advantage of my money after shitting on it so much, but I insist.”

He watched the way her jaw slackened in amused incredulity, staring up at him as a short bout of laughter escaped her and he grinned, knowing he’d caught her off guard. Nura grinned and Calum desperately tried to keep his gaze away from the way her tongue trailed across her lower lip, raising his eyebrows expectantly as she considered his offer with an averted gaze.

Finally, she let out a groan, rolling her eyes to the ceiling as she gave in, “Alright, fine, fine.”

Calum grinned triumphantly, unable to stop himself from draping his arm around Nura’s shoulders to guide her towards their table as she pulled out her phone to let her friends know where to go. 

At one point of the night, when Nura was two margaritas in and was sitting in one corner of the couch, she felt someone sit down to her left and glanced to see Luke settling in, head leaning back and long legs spread. She feared someone would trip on them, given that almost everyone was on their feet, drinking and dancing.

With an amused chuckle escaping her, Nura asked him, “You good?”

“I’m great,” Luke answered with a chuckle, dimples shadowing his features, splashed in the purple and blue lights of the club. Sitting up properly, he offered her a smile. “Thanks for showing us this place—it’s awesome.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Nura laughed lightly, glancing forward to see Ashton pour Elaine and Willa another drink. “Thanks for my showing my friends and I how the VIPs roll,” she added with a teasing grin, earning a laugh from Luke in return.

“Your first time?” he questioned and when Nura nodded, Luke laced his fingers together, sitting forward with his arms resting on his thighs. “Yeah, I remember mine—it was ’cause of Cal, actually. He knew I wanted to go to a Laker’s game for my eighteenth birthday and couldn’t afford to go and he knew, like, I was incapable of accepting a court side ticket, even if it was for my birthday. He ended up getting tickets for all of us just so I had a great birthday.” Luke scoffed with a smile, shaking his head as he leaned back. “He’s a good friend, no doubt about it.”

Nura listened to him intently, unable to help the way her eyebrows raised slightly at Luke’s story. Court side tickets to an NBA game weren’t cheap and although Nura knew Calum had money, the fact that he would get several tickets for all of his friends just so Luke could have a good birthday had her heart warming. She sipped her drink after a soft “wow,” escaped her, chewing on the straw as she acknowledged the small bit of guilt she felt pool in the pit of her stomach for calling Calum out about his money. She didn’t entirely regret it, given how their first few interactions had went, but Luke’s story only confirmed a thought that had been brewing in Nura’s mind: Crystal had been right, that night in the bathroom. Calum was proving himself to be not as bad as Nura had originally thought, especially when he pulled her away from Keith and had her and her friends join him and his friends.

She had always prided herself in reading people with the job she had; maybe, just this once, she was just a little bit wrong.

*****

Her room smelled like Chinese food and rain, and Nura loved every bit of it. Having woken up a couple of hours ago, she showered off last night’s booze stench and as she put on  her lounge shorts—pajamas on top for the few minutes she took to pray—

and an oversized Queen shirt, she ordered Chinese food enough to feed a family of four. It was her day off—which was one of the few reasons why she had decided to go out last night—and she fully intended on sitting in her bed with her food with Brooklyn Nine-Nine playing on the TV right across.

Until a knock sounded on her door.

She sighed exasperatedly, her food already spread out on a tray on the bed, and got off the bed, blinking in surprise when she opened it and there stood Calum. “What’re you doing here?” Nura asked, eyebrows raised before they knitted together. “Did you walk in the rain?”

Calum, with his hands buried in the pockets of the black rain jacket he wore, responded with a dry smile as he responded sarcastically, “Oh, good afternoon to you, too, Nura. I’m doing great, thanks for asking.”

She pressed her lips together briefly, expression deadpanning before she stepped to the side and let him in. It wasn’t like it was down pouring outside—which was why she didn’t feel bad about ordering takeout—but the drizzling still had Calum’s dark hair wet, as well as his jacket. “Good afternoon, Calum,” Nura stated, a sweet smile gracing her lips that had Calum scoffing as she gestured for him to take off his jacket. “What’re you doing here?”

What could possibly have made him cross half of the resort to get to her room? Especially in the rain? She raised her eyebrow at him as she hung his jacket on the row of hooks behind the door, facing him with her arms crossing over her chest.

Was she imagining the sheepish expression that softened his features, hand raising to run through the short strands of his wet, dark hair as he let out a chuckle. “I just, uh,” Calum paused, clearing his throat before settling for a small, boyish smile. “Wanted to check in on you, after last night. How’s the hangover treating you?”

Nura felt her lips part ever so slightly at his words, expression relaxing into a subtle surprise at the thoughtfulness he was displaying. All of them had gotten pretty drunk last night, a time well spent, and she remembered Calum, Michael, and Crystal walking her back to her room before they went to theirs. She also remembered throwing up last night—fortunately she’d made it to the toilet—and had brushed her teeth thoroughly before taking a shower and deciding to order her favorite hangover food.

Calum didn’t have to come to check on her, especially when it was raining, but it was an unexpected gesture she felt warming her heart as a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “I’m actually about to dig into some hangover food,” Nura laughed lightly, gesturing to the bed where the Chinese spread was laid out. She pulled her lower lip into her mouth, considering her next words carefully. Technically, Calum shouldn’t even be in her room. Nura was well aware of that. She was also well aware of how she didn’t want to kick him out. So she smiled up at him and asked, “Care to join?”

Calum’s eyebrows shot up, gaze flickering to the bed before resting on her once more, unsurely. “Are you sure? I didn’t mean to, like, show up and—”

She cut him off with a roll of her eyes, turning to go back to her bed and giving him no chance but to follow. He joined her as he sat next to her at the head of the bed, back against the headboard and Nura leaned down to open the mini fridge by the wall. “Water or Coke?” she asked him as she felt the mattress shift under her while he settled.

“Water, thanks,” Calum responded, taking the bottle from her before chuckling at the spread. Raising an eyebrow at her, he asked, “Do you always order this much food?”

“When I’m hungover? Hell yeah,” Nura chuckled, quickly pressing play on the TV before picking up the container of white rice and putting some on her paper plate.

They settled into a comfortable silence as they helped themselves to the food and watched the show play on TV, and as she leaned back against her pillows, legs crossed and plate in her hand, Nura couldn’t help but think how strangely this situation had progressed. She didn’t make a habit of having resort guests in her suite—in fact, it never happened. She kept her distance, especially since many of the ones she encountered were people Nura was fine with never seeing again. It wasn’t lost on her how Calum had been one of those type of guests when he first arrived.

But something had changed that night at the pool, where they’d been able to be civil to one another for more than a few seconds after Calum had apologized for the things he had said and the way he had acted. No longer was he another guest with some kind of superiority complex the amount of money he had gave him, nor was he the asshole who tried to get under Nura’s skin on purpose. Things had shifted between them without Nura truly being able to comprehend the moment it happened, but now that it had, she couldn’t complain. Hanging out with guests on company property wasn’t allowed, and Nura wasn’t a risk taker, and yet. . . She didn’t want to kick him out of the room. Especially when he made the little noises that came with the opening theme of Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

It felt easy, sitting in her room, eating Chinese and watching one of her favorite shows. Calum had taken off his shoes, legs crossed as he ate the shrimp lo-mein, a comfortable silence between them only broken by the TV and the gentle rainfall that had surprised them. Nura didn’t care that she probably looked like a bum, too comfortable in her clothes and her hair falling messily around her shoulders, even though the guy next to her looked unsurprisingly good even if he was in only a pair of athletic shorts and a shirt. She was definitely not checking out the way the muscles of his tattooed arm flexed whenever he reached for his water bottle.

Nura quickly focused on her attention on the show, watching the episode play out. And in her purposefully sought out distraction, she’d momentarily forgotten who she was sitting next to, and after swallowing a bite of her food absently murmured out, “I would totally hook up with young Scully.”

Calum’s short, incredulous laugh pulled her into reality, and Nura’s face flushed in realization as she shoved another forkful of rice and orange chicken into her mouth. She was surprised, then, when Calum hummed thoughtfully before saying, “Really? I’d go for young Hitchcock. He’s got nice hair.”

Nura blinked before looking at Calum, face scrunched up in skeptical confusion. “You’d go for him because he’s got nice hair?” she repeated dubiously, scoffing with a shake of her head despite Calum’s defensive slackened jaw. “That’s not a reason to get with someone!”

His lips parted, incoherent protesting exclaims escaping him before he gestured to the TV with a challenging furrow of his brows. “Why do you wanna get with Scully?”

“Because!” Nura started, earning an expectant raise of eyebrows from Calum as he gestured with a shake of his head for her to continue, and Nura rolled her smiling lips into her mouth as the laugh threatened to escape. She pushed herself further into her headboard before admitting, “He’s got a nice jawline. And he’s taller than Hitchcock.”

Calum’s expression fell flat, before his dark eyes narrowed almost comedically and he rebuked, “So basically my reason isn’t as superficial as yours?”

Her cheeks heated up before she waved him off, looking towards the TV once more and saying, “Shut up, watch the show,” which only earned a laugh from him.

They continued watching in silence, the food slowly lessening as they kept eating. By the time the next episode started, Nura was full and Calum was asking her, “Did you read all of these?” She glanced over, catching him looking at the five novels piled on the bedside table, picking up the top one. It was her favorite book, Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe. Nura hummed in confirmation and as Calum opened the book and flipped through the pages, let out a soft, incredulous breath. “Shit—not a page left unmarked, huh?”

She laughed after taking a sip of her Coke. “That’s my favorite book—have you read it?” When Calum gave a shake of his head, eyes still taking in her writing in the margins and the highlights, Nura continued, “You should. It’s beautiful. And the marks are just how I read.” She chuckled lightly. “The dream’s to work in the editing field of a publishing firm. Reading new stories all day from all kinds of people is, like, the perfect way to spend my time.”

Calum looked at her upon hearing her words, eyebrows raising in surprise and what Nura thought was a hint of admiring as his lips curled into a smile. He nodded, smile soft and warm that sent a flutter ripple through Nura’s stomach. “That’s pretty cool, Nura,” he said. 

“Thanks,” she returned, unable to keep the smile off her face. Whether it was because of Calum or the topic at hand, she couldn’t be sure. For her own sanity, she chalked it up to the latter. “I worked as an editorial intern the past two years during the school year, so that really helped with my resume. I’m hoping to hear back from a couple of places I applied to soon. With any luck, this’ll be my last summer working here.”

“I’m sure you’ll get loads of acceptances,” Calum nodded, voice holding a kind of sincerity she hadn’t heard before as he put the book back down.

Nura twisted her lips to the side briefly before offering, “Do you wanna borrow the book? I mean, if you’ve got free time to read since you’re, like, here for a while.”

Calum glanced at the copy before raising an eyebrow at her. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, a bit too quickly, before smiling. “Yeah, totally. Just don’t drop it in the ocean.”

He scoffed out a laugh, grin showing off those crinkles by his eyes Nura found too adorable. “Yeah, thanks,” he agreed before pushing up from the bed, raising an eyebrow at her. “Can I use your bathroom?”

Nura hummed, gesturing to the door off on the left that Calum soon disappeared behind. She leaned back against the headboard once more with a happy sigh, no longer trying to make sense of this situation as she watched the show play in front of her. Though, that only lasted for a few moments as knocking on the front door interrupted her. She paused the TV before heading over, jaw instantly tightening as she mentally chastised herself for opening the door.

“How can I help you, Keith?” Nura asked, hoping she kept the heavy disdain out of her voice as much as possible. She hadn’t forgotten last night when he had tried to get her to leave the club with him, only ceasing his insistence when Calum had swept in to pull her away. That rescue, she was appreciative of.

“Hi, Nura,” he returned with that smile of his that never settled well with her. His hands were clasped behind his back as he looked down at her. Unlike Calum, he looked like a wet dog because of the rain. “Something about last night has been bothering me.” She quirked an eyebrow; was he going to apologize for being so pushy? “That guy you were talking to last night—isn’t he a guest here?”

Nura stared up at him, bewildered and taken aback at his question. That’s what was bothering him? Her grip on the door handle tightened, shoulders squaring and chin lifting as she narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. “Yes,” she answered, albeit slightly hesitantly. Her stomach twisted, not liking where this was going. 

Keith hummed with his lips pressed together, eyebrows raising, and expression reading one of I hate to do this to you, but. . . “You know employees aren’t allowed to mingle with guests like that, Nura.”

Was he fucking serious? Nura didn’t think it was possible for him to get more annoying, and yet he was proving her wrong. She fought from letting her aggravation show on her features, keeping them as neutral as possible as she calmly responded, “Yeah, but we weren’t on company property, Keith.” She saw the corner of his lips twitch in annoyance. She knew she was right, and his desire to seek her out and try to make some power move over her only fueled her dislike of him. “And it’s not like I was the only one there. Have you talked to the other employees I was with? Or am I the only one on your agenda?”

Keith scoffed through his nose, looking down at her with a miffed curl of his lips. “I was getting to them,” he said, voice slightly strained, and Nura wanted to laugh. Bullshit. He was only ever going to try and hold it over her head. “If you’re seen entertaining the guests in more than a professional capacity, I’m afraid I’ll have to report you to McNulty.”

Nura’s jaw slackened at his words, staring up at him in disbelief with an angry knot tightening in her stomach. Her grip on the door handle tightened, the metal digging into her palm as she pressed her teeth together and exhaled through her nose. He was threatening her. The son of a bitch was actually threatening her because she was, what, becoming friends with some of the guests? As opposed to normally wanting to be as far away from them as possible and cursing them out behind their back?

She was too speechless to say anything in return, to tell him to shut the fuck up or mind his own damn business, and Keith merely smiled at her and said, “Have a good one, Nura.”

She stared at the space where he stood for a brief moment until her thoughts kicked in and Nura slammed the door shut with an aggravated grunt. “What the fuck,” she muttered through strained teeth, fingers running through her hair as she stepped away from the door.

“Shit—was that because of me?”

Nura’s breath caught in her throat, momentarily forgetting of the man that had been in her bathroom until she caught sight of Calum, leaning against the wall on his left shoulder and a frown on his face. Nura licked her lips, hands clasped behind her back as she leaned against the wall opposite of him. She saw the downturn of his lips, looking bothered by the conversation he had just overheard.

“No,” Nura answered with a sigh, giving a shake of her head. She saw the guilt that caused him to chew his lower lip and she found herself wanting to get rid of it. “That was just Keith. . . Being a piece of shit.”

“Are you sure?” Calum asked, frown deepening. He crossed his arms and Nura’s gaze flickered briefly at the way his biceps became more apparent, the tattoos only making her throat dry. “He sounded pretty—”

“Petty? Bitter?” Nura supplied with a scoff. She rolled her eyes, looking off towards the window. The awning above her window prevented the rain from getting into the room, working with the screen on the window itself. The sound of rain only served to calm her now irritated nerves. “I’m not gonna stop being friends with you just because he’s unjustifiably jealous.”

Calum raised his eyebrows at her and Nura saw the ghost of a smirk curl at his lips. With a subtle tilt of his head, he asked teasingly, “We’re friends now?”

Nura felt her cheeks heat up, smile turning shy and embarrassed as she pressed her palms against the wall behind her. Friends may be pushing it, but Nura believed that they were getting there. She definitely didn’t find him as rude and terrible as she had before, the change more or less slapping her in the face. But whatever they were now, it was far from annoying guest and disgruntled employee. His gaze felt heavy, playful, and Nura melted under it. Feigning confidence with a life of her chin, she shot back, “I took full advantage of your bottle service last night; yes, we’re friends.”

Calum laughed at that, grin wide and real and showing off those crinkles and annoyingly perfect white teeth. His laugh held a rasp that sent a shiver down her spine as he ducked his head, nodding along in agreement. When his head lifted, brown eyes meeting her own, Nura felt a calmness in her chest, a flutter in her stomach especially when he confirmed, “Right. We’re friends.”

*****

Nura had seen a ghost. Or, at least, that’s what she looked like.

Calum watched her from where he sat at the table with Kaykay and Ashton, eyebrows knitting together behind his sunglasses as he watched her listen to whoever was on the other end of the phone call she’d taken. He saw it in the way her lips parted, shoulders rising and falling with the quick breaths she’d began taking and how she had reached behind her to grip the guard railing around the outdoor section of the restaurant. Her ponytail danced in the wind but it didn’t do anything to hide the alarmed expression painted across her face.

It wasn’t his business, he knew it wasn’t, but the way she pocketed her phone and ran a hand down her chin, looking around with a panicked gaze before her quick feet took her to the inside the restaurant had a worried knot forming in Calum’s stomach. Before he knew it, he was pushing back his chair and was on his feet, barely hearing Ashton’s, “Where’re you going?”

Calum only granted him and Kaykay with an absent, “Be right back,” already halfway into the restaurant.

He folded his sunglasses on the neckline of his shirt and looked around, not even acknowledging the other guests on different tables as his eyes searched for Nura. He found her talking to the guy he recognized as the manager, who put a hand on her shoulder and nodded at her, a look of reassurance on her face. Nura was quick to nod, hands reaching behind her to untie the knot of her apron as she handed it to him and began making her way towards the exit.

Calum moved quickly, following her as his eyebrows drew together, his longer legs allowing him to get in front of her with a hasty, “Nura, hey—are you okay?”

Nura stopped short, her gaze lifting to meet his, and up close Calum saw the panic and mild fear swirling in her dark irises that only had his worried frown deepening. Her eyebrows drew together, the distress clear in her features as she let out a sharp breath. “Yeah, I just—” Her throat worked, licking her lips as she glanced away briefly. “My mom’s sick—she has, uh, a bad case of the stomach flu and I’m just really worried, y’know? It’s just her and my brother back home and I, uh, I need to go see her.”

Calum pressed his lips together, feeling a weight settle on his chest as he took in her hoarse voice, thick with concern. She looked out of it, which Calum understood as he asked, “You’re gonna drive back?”

“No, I’m gonna fucking take a magic carpet, Calum.” He clamped his mouth shut, her words as sharp as her voice and, again, he understood. He kept his gaze on her, eyes soft and features worried, and Nura squeezed her eyes shut as she brought her hands up and covered her face, a soft groan muffled in her palms. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—shit.” She dropped her hands, sad eyes meeting his. “Yeah, I’m driving, why?”

Despite her snapping at him, Calum hadn’t really carefully considered the next few words that tumbled out of his mouth, rushing them out in an uncharacteristic ramble, “Let me drive you—I mean, it’s none of my business but I just—I don’t want you on the road by yourself when you’re so worried about your mom, y’know? I can take you. Let me help.”

It sounded so stupid once the words were out of his mouth, and although Calum’s intentions were purely just for the purpose of wanting to be there for Nura, he understood how they could be misinterpreted. But, shit, seeing her so worried, so frazzled, had his heart leaping out of his chest and he wanted to be able to do something. This had nothing to do with him, but he wanted to help, wanted to be there for her.

Nura gaped up at him, completely taken aback by his offer, eyes holding nothing but disbelief. Half of him expected her to tell him to fuck off, so he was pleasantly surprised when all she did was stammer out a bewildered, “I—no, Calum. You don’t have to. Y-You’re on vacation. Why would you even—”

“Because, uh, you gave me a really good book to read.” He said it with a soft smile, a real smile, and at this point he was willing to give her any reason or excuse in the book if it meant she would accept his help. He still had so much time left on his vacation, what was a little time away from the resort if it meant making sure Nura and her family were okay?

They’d become friends over the past two weeks, and Calum had a bit of a habit of going above and beyond for his friends.

Nura scoffed slightly, lips just barely curling up in a smile she couldn’t afford right now. He didn’t want her to smile if she couldn’t. Not when her mom was sick. “It’d be a three day thing, Calum. I’ll be running around doing errands for my mom and—”

“And I’ll help you with them,” Calum cut in, his words earning a skeptical eyebrow raise from Nura. His shoulders dropped, thinning his lips at her as he told her dryly, “I can help you.”

“You’ll help me or pay someone to help?” Nura retorted and Calum was glad even in a tense, worrisome moment such as this, she still found it in herself to joke around. Even if it was at his expense. At this point, her poking fun at him for his financial status was something he truly found amusing. It was way better than her taking advantage of it.

“I’ll help you,” he said with a roll of his eyes. When Nura rolled her lips into her mouth, seemingly considering his words, Calum dropped his chin and raised his eyebrows at her, silently encouraging her to say yes. “Let me come with you.”

Her dark eyes met his, looking as if she was searching for something in his gaze. Whatever she found, she must have liked because she finally dropped her shoulders and sighed with a nod. “Okay.”

The two and a half hour drive to Homestead was filled with Nura’s playlist playing in the car, a variety of songs Calum approved of as he lowly sang along to them. Nura didn’t talk much in the car, opting to stare out the window and chew on her unpainted nails, only speaking up when she told him a faster, easier route than what the GPS dictated. Calum didn’t mind her silence, though he hoped she wasn’t letting the worry consume her, knowing there was no real way he could stop it from happening.

His friends had been surprised in his new plan, but none of them tried to talk him out of it. Not like Calum expected them to; they’d all come to really like Nura and thought it was sweet of Calum to help her out in whatever way he could. Nura had just looked too overwhelmed, too scared for Calum to let her go on her own. 

When they finally pulled into the driveway of a one story house in a cul-de-sac, Nura broke the silence as she turned off the music in the car. As they unbuckled their seatbelts, Calum felt her gaze on him before she commented, “You’ve got a nice voice.” He looked at her and she smiled. “I didn’t know you could sing.”

“It’s just—” Calum stammered and he felt something heat up his cheeks. Since when did he fall over his words? “Just in the car and the shower.”

Nura’s smile was sweet, words sweeter, “You’re really good.”

She got out of the car then, and Calum let out a slow exhale as he followed her actions, glancing up at the bright blue sky and wondering when his heart learned to skip a beat or two. They grabbed their duffels out of the car and Calum followed her up to the front door after handing her the keys, which she then used to unlock the door and step inside. 

Just as the door opened, Calum heard a woman’s voice from inside call out, “Nura, is that you?”

“Yeah, Mama,” Nura called back and as Calum shut the door, she toed off her shoes by the corner and he followed her lead, placing his Docs properly with the other sandals and sneakers already there. He then looked over to the living room to the immediate right, caught sight of a woman who had apparently been lying down on the couch sit up as Nura dropped her bag on the floor and walked over, “Asalamalaikum.”

Nura’s mother stood up, dressed in a printed tunic and leggings as she smiled and returned, “Walaikumasalam,” before putting her arms out so Nura could walk into her mother’s hug. He saw Mrs. Ansari close her eyes as she hugged Nura, a smile on her tired face as she said something in a foreign language.

“I’m good,” Nura answered her before pulling away, which was when Mrs. Ansari’s eyes landed on Calum, who was lingering in the entrance a bit too awkwardly. He felt out of place, the strap of his duffel feeling heavy on his shoulder as he offered a small smile. At her mother’s questioning look, Nura said, “Oh, Mama, this is Calum. He drove me here.”

Mrs. Ansari blinked in confusion as she looked at Nura. “Why didn’t you drive yourself?”

Nura scoffed. “Because I was basically in a catatonic state after finding out you were sick. Calum offered to come with me.”

Mrs. Ansari shot her daughter a flat look at the first part of her statement, but then her lips lifted into a kind smile as she looked at Calum. “It’s nice to meet you Calum. Thank you for accompanying Nura.”

He felt some of the awkward tension in his muscles ease as he returned her smile, chuckling lightly. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Ansari. And, really, it was no problem.” His eyes met Nura’s as he added. “It was the right thing to do.”

Mrs. Ansari’s smile widened before stepping back and gesturing to the couch. “Please, come sit,” she said to him before settling on the smaller couch by the window. 

Calum walked further into the living room, taking note of the pictures on the wall. Many of them of Nura, especially when she was younger, with a boy who he figured was her brother and lots of family photos of them with their parents. But Nura hadn’t mentioned her father, and if he was still in the pictures put up on the wall, Calum could only correctly imagine where he was.

“So, Mama,” Nura said, settling on the three seater couch that Calum sat on the other end of, putting his bag down as Nura focused on her mother. “Kya hua? Bilal said you’ve been sick for a few days? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you, beta,” Mrs. Ansari said with a click of her tongue, as if she hadn’t wanted Nura’s brother telling her. “The doctor prescribed me antibiotics and I’m getting a lot of rest. I’m not contagious anymore, which is good, Alhamdulillah, but I’ve just been feeling a lot of weakness.”

Calum noted the worry on Nura’s features, in the furrow of her eyebrows as she looked at her mom. “Is it getting any better with the medicine?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Ansari nodded, shifting so she had brought her legs up on the couch, back resting against the arm rest as she faced Nura and Calum. “Really, baby, I should be fine in a few days. You didn’t have to come.”

“I was worried,” Nura told her. “I’m staying for the weekend, okay?” When Mrs. Ansari opened her mouth to protest, Nura shook her head. “No, Mama. I already told them I’d be here and I have lots of personal days so it’s fine. Deal with it.”

Calum felt his lips curl up slightly in amusement as Mrs. Ansari let out a sigh with a roll of her eyes. Clearly she wasn’t the type who particularly liked being fussed over. “Acha, fine.” Then she glanced at Calum before looking back at her daughter and gesturing to the kitchen. “Oh, go get him some water or something. Don’t just sit there.”

Nura’s face scrunched up, looking over at Calum who had rolled his lips into his mouth. Nura scoffed, telling her mom, “He can get it himself.”

He suppressed the chuckle. He should’ve seen that one coming—why should she have to serve him in her own home when she already did so at the resort? Except Mrs. Ansari didn’t see it that way, clicking her tongue as she warned, “Nura.”

Rolling her eyes with a huff, Nura stood up reluctantly. “Fine,” she grumbled, shooting Calum a sharp look as she walked past him, only to stop before facing her mom again. “If you’re not contagious anymore, I’ll sleep with you so Calum can have my bed.” Mrs. Ansari nodded and Nura shifted her gaze to him, raising an eyebrow. “Hope you’re okay with downgrading to a full sized bed.”

Calum scowled after her, shaking his head at her dig before looking back at Mrs. Ansari, letting himself smile at the woman watching him. She then sat up, voice coating with curiosity as she spoke up. “Nura said you were friends—do you work at the resort, too?”

Calum’s lips parted, half feeling the need to give into the lie. But he quickly talked himself out of that useless point, fingers laced together as he let out an almost sheepish chuckle. “Oh, no. I’m, uh, actually staying there with a few of my friends. I met Nura on my first day there.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Ansari sounded, eyebrows raising in intrigue. She tilted her head before asking, “And you left to accompany Nura?” Calum’s throat worked, not entirely sure if she approved of his actions or not. He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. No doubt it was strange that her daughter arrived to help out with a man she hadn’t seen before. It probably looked fucking weird, but Calum didn’t regret it. So he nodded quietly, felt something ease in him when Mrs. Ansari smiled and said sincerely, “Thank you.”

He returned her grin just as Nura reappeared, a tall glass of water in her hand that she begrudgingly offered him. His smile only widened, finding the pout puckering her lips really fucking adorable. With a tick of her head, she said, “I’ll show you to your room for the weekend.”

Just a few moments later, Calum was stepping inside Nura’s bedroom, utterly neat and minimalistic in every aspect. The bed was perfectly made, bright green plants in one corner of the room, a study desk opposite of the bed and a bookshelf filled to the brim with books—which was not at all surprising to him. To the left of the door they’d walked through was a dressing table, only a few makeup and belongings on top as Calum remembered most of them being in Nura’s suite back at the resort. The walls were a pastel mauve color, so light he had to squint to see it, and the floor free of carpet, the wood sleek under his sock clad feet. There was a picture frame on the single bedside table next to the lamp and alarm clock, a photo of a younger Nura with a man he recognized from the other pictures in the living room. Her dad, Calum could tell. Same eyes, same nose.

As he carefully put his duffel down on the floor next to the bed, Calum turned to see Nura leaning against the wall by the door, eyes on him. She was watching him intently, a small smile teasing the corner of her lips, and Calum raised his eyebrows under her gaze. Did he look out of place? He kind of felt like it, but the room smelled of vanilla and shea butter, a scent he had come to recognize Nura by, and he didn’t want to admit how easy it would be to fall asleep engulfed in it.

“What?” Calum finally asked with a low chuckle, wondering what was running through her mind.

Nura grinned, teeth biting into her lower lip as she glanced out the door. She then looked at him, the sun seeping through the window washing her brown skin in a pretty glow as she quietly, conspiringly, said, “I’ve never had a boy in this room before.”

Calum’s eyebrows shot up at that, feeling his smile return. Not what he had been expecting, but the way she had admitted it was tugging at his heart. From what Calum knew, Nura was Muslim, and although there were certain parts of the religion she did and didn’t practice—as far as he knew from what she had told him—he wasn’t surprise over the lack of boys that entered this room. He felt like a fucking thirteen year old boy at the mild case of excitement twisting his stomach as he asked, “Really?”

“Mhm,” Nura nodded with a gentle laugh. “I mean, my mom’s not so conservative, but my dad was. So, y’know, no boys ever stepped foot into the room when he was around. But, like, he passed when I was fifteen and after that, I still didn’t wanna bring boys in here. So, yeah,” Nura chuckled a bit nervously. “You’re the first.”

Calum felt his smile soften, briefly biting the inside of his cheek as Nura’s eyes met his. They gleamed against the sunlight, a sight he wouldn’t ever get tired of. “Well, I’m honored.” Nura laughed lightly, watching as Calum looked around her room some more, his grin returning as he gestured towards the bookshelf with an amused, “That doesn’t surprise me.” She rolled her eyes, unashamed of her overflowing shelf and Calum sat down on the edge of the bed, fingers linking together in the space between his legs. “Reminds me of my room; I’ve got this, like, big shelf filled with old vinyls and albums and stuff.”

Nura raised her eyebrows, teasing smile upturning her lips. “Really? You’re into music?” She blew air through her lips. “I had no idea.” He shot her a look at her sarcastic tone, earning a laugh from Nura. “Is it just a hobby? Your collection of music?”

He took a breath, hands bracing behind him on the mattress as he leaned back a bit. Her question was simple, innocent enough, yet it had Calum pausing to consider the thoughts running through his head. Music was the only thing that kept Calum sane; it was the only thing, other than his friends’ support, that kept him together when all of the bullshit with Dawn had happened. Playing his guitar was a hobby, but he found relief in collecting vinyls and records and listening to music. The way Nura lost herself in the books she read, it was the same for Calum when all of his focus went into the lyrics being sung and chords being played. He wanted to make a life out of his love for music, whether it be collecting his favorite records or selling them—hell, he knew how to play a few instruments, he wouldn’t mind teaching others how to play, either.

“I don’t know,” he finally answered Nura, catching the silent inquiring look that crossed her face. “I guess. . .” He trailed off with a thoughtful furrow of his eyebrows, head tilting back as he gazed up at the ceiling. “It wouldn’t be so bad, making some kind of career out of it. Maybe then I’ll have an appreciation for hard work.”

His last statement was spoken with a knowing smirk shot at Nura, who scoffed out a laugh as she remembered those words all too clearly—she’d snapped them at him that night at the restaurant. Her laugh had Calum grinning, and Nura ran her fingers through her hair as she shrugged. “If you’ve got the means to do it, I’d say that’s a wise way to spend your money,” she told him, the encouraging tone not lost on him.

Calum smiled. It felt. . . Good that someone other than his best friends thought his idea was one worth pursuing. He doubted his parents would care much what he did, too busy with their own business and too invested to let go of it any time soon. Something loosened in Calum’s chest at Nura’s smile, tone appreciative as he simply said, “Noted.”

*****

“I thought Billy liked barbecue chips—these are salt and vinegar.”

“Yeah, those are for me—hey, put them back in the cart!”

“Nura, we’re supposed to be shopping for your mom and Billy, not you!”

“A girl has her needs, damn it, Calum.”

He pursed his lips with a shake of his head, shooting Nura a look as she huffed and continued to push the cart along. The two of them continued down the aisles of Wal-Mart, finally heading towards the check-out with their stuffed cart. Nura may have gone a bit overboard, but it was their last day in Homestead and she wanted to make sure the fridge, freezer, and pantry were fully stocked before they left.

The past three days had been nothing short of interesting. It was a strange dynamic, having Calum around, and Nura was surprised how well he got along with her mom and Billy—which was kind of understandable, given that he hadn’t acted like a dick to them right off the bat as he did with her. But that was in the past.

In fact, Calum had been a huge help around the house, despite Nura’s constant teasing that he took in stride—and knew he deserved it, especially when he nearly sucked up one of Billy’s DS cartridges in the vacuum. Other than that near mishap, he helped her around the house, surprising Nura with his efficiency in the kitchen, got along really well with Billy and played video games with her seventeen year old brother, and had been quick with a small garbage can when Mrs. Ansari vomiting acted up and she couldn’t make it to the bathroom on time.

He hadn’t even been disgusted, and if Nura ever had any doubt about the kind of man Calum was, it was gone.

If anything, she could feel her heart pick up its pace every time he looked at her, felt the butterflies tickle her stomach whenever he smiled. She was falling, and it was probably a bad idea, but she didn’t care. 

“We’ve got everything?” Calum checked as they got to the self-checkout, eyeing the cart with a small smirk.

Nura snorted. “For the house and even some road trip snacks, yes.”

The two of them worked together as Nura scanned the items and Calum bagged them before putting them back int he cart, and not for the first time this weekend she found herself thinking how good of a team they made. Who knew the pretty rich boy was good at mundane things he could pay people to do?

When the last of the items were scanned and bagged, Nura reached into her purse to grab her wallet, eyebrows knitting together when she didn’t find it. “Huh?” she sounded, confused, as she opened it and dug through, groaning when she realized she didn’t have it. She didn’t even think about how she’d driven to Wal-Mart without her license on her, but was more pressed about the fact that now there was no way to pay for her groceries. Shit.

“What’s wrong?” Calum asked, eyebrows knitting together.

Nura’s shoulders fell, turning to look at him with disdain on her features with a little bit of self-loathing. “I think I forgot my wallet at home.”

Calum blinked. “Oh.” Then he stepped towards her and Nura watched as he pulled his wallet out of his jeans pocket and slid out a credit card. “We can just use mine.”

Nura’s eyes widened, grabbing his bicep as she stopped him. “Wait, no—I can’t let you pay for two hundred dollars’ worth of groceries, Calum.”

He looked down at her, a furrow in his eyebrows as if he didn’t understand the problem. It was stupidly endearing. “Yes, you can.” Then with a chuckle, he added, “Not like you have much of a choice, Nura. It’s okay.”

Her stomach twisted, eyebrows knitting deeply as she barely sounded a protesting, “But—” when Calum inserted his credit card. She took a breath before chewing on her lips, not entirely feeling right about this. Logically, Nura knew he had the money, knew that two hundred dollars wasn’t much to him, but that wasn’t the point. Taking care of her family was something Nura had become accustomed to; she and her mom did it together, even Billy chipped in with the summer jobs he’d get. It had always been the three of them, and while she definitely appreciated Calum’s kindness, it just felt strange accepting it. She didn’t want to owe him anything, and didn’t want him thinking she wanted him to pay for something for her family. It wasn’t his job.

When he pulled his card out and signed his name on the pad, Nura shifted her weight on her feet and peered up at him. “Thank you, Calum,” she said, her voice holding the genuine appreciation she felt over him fixing her blunder. “I’ll pay you back.”

She saw the frown that drew together his eyebrows as he pocketed his wallet, shooting her a near bewildered look. “The hell you will,” he said with a scoff. Calum shook his head, walking to the back of the cart to grip its handles. With a pointed look at her, he added, “I didn’t mind doing it, Nura, and I didn’t do it for you to owe me anything. I was happy to help.”

The look in his eyes told her that he wasn’t going to budge on his stance, and Nura just kind of fell for him a bit more in that moment. She also felt a wave of guilt for all the teasing she had done regarding him and his money, and wished she could take it back. Coupled with what Luke had told her that night at the club and him paying for her family’s groceries—not to mention the fact that when they’d stopped to get gas on their way to Homestead, he’d paid for it—Nura knew that Calum Hood wasn’t like any of the guests she’d ever encountered, and the money he had, he would use it for others before using it for himself.

That little trait only made him all the more attractive.

As they exited Wal-Mart, Nura tried, “Will you at least let me get you a drink when we get back? On me.” She didn’t know how much that would mean, given what he was paying to stay at the resort, but it was all she could think of doing. It was a small gesture, nothing compared to what he’d done.

And yet, Calum grinned at her, sharp features melting into a giddy softness as he pushed the cart along and nodded. “Absolutely.”

Nura left Homestead with a lighter heart than the one she’d arrived with. Most of it had to do with the fact that her mom, thank God, had started feeling a lot better than when Nura first got home. Her antibiotics seemed to kick in, and they did plenty in helping her mom out with the nausea and pain she had been feeling. With Calum and Nura chipping in to help around the house, even if it was only for three days, her mom was able to get as much rest as she could and it helped her recovery along.

She was no longer pale or running between her bed and the bathroom anymore, the pain had nearly subsided, and Nura knew her mom would be okay. And after telling her brother to be good and take care of their mom, and with Mrs. Ansari and Billy thanking Calum for all of his help, Nura and Calum left her house and were back on the road to the resort. This time, she joined in with him in singing along to the songs playing through the car at a louder volume; lighter hearts made for a happier car ride back, and Nura really fucking appreciated Calum’s help in it all. While she had been caught completely off guard when he had offered to come, she was so relieved he did.

They got back to the resort late in the evening when the sun had set and, ever the gentleman, Calum walked Nura back to her suite. Their footsteps softly thudded on the sleek floor, the hall empty as they reached her door around eight in the evening. Nura unlocked it and stepped inside, dropping her bag on the floor and turning to see Calum watching her, leaning against the doorframe with his hands in the pocket of his leather jacket which she couldn’t understand how he wore in the Florida heat.

Nura wrung her fingers together as she took a step towards him, feeling her skin flush as she began, “Calum—thank you, honestly, for helping out this weekend. You didn’t have to take time out of your vacation to do that and I—I really appreciate it.”

Calum’s eyebrows so briefly pulled together as his face scrunched up in protest, giving a shake of his head. “You don’t have to thank me, Nura.” He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’ve been takin’ care of us and it just felt like the right thing to do.”

She let out a breathy chuckle at that, about a foot or two worth of space between them as she raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, well, it’s my job to. You did it because you’re a good person.”

She saw the way his eyebrows raised, corner of his lips tugging into a wider smile as he scoffed lightly through his nose. There was a teasing glint in his dark eyes as he said, “Means a lot, coming from someone who once said I was just barely a decent person.”

Nura rolled her lips into her mouth, an embarrassed heat flushing her skin as Calum chuckled quietly at her reaction. Of course she remembered saying that to him, right after he had basically tipped her out of spite. It seemed like so long ago, rather than just a month. “Yeah, well,” Nura mused, not at all minding the way the space between them seemed to be closing. Her gaze lifted so brown eyes could remain locked with his, a teasing flutter in her stomach under Calum’s intent, purposeful stare. “Safe to say you’ve proven me wrong.”

They were so close, her vanilla scent mixing with the woodsy freshness of his cologne, a combination Nura desired more of as she looked up at him. Calum leaned towards her, nose brushing against hers, fueling the fire sparking in Nura’s veins as his voice dropped into a raspy, deliciously teasing murmur, “Enough to break your fraternization rule?”

Nura’s response was tilting her head up to finally give into the heat his body was radiating, to succumb to the way Calum was pulling her and connect her lips with his. She felt herself inhaling sharply as he returned the kiss, his hands finding her face as he kept her close, moving his lips with hers. Nura leaned into him, her own hands gripping his wrist as her lips parted, deepening the kiss earnestly, the softness of his lips curling her toes, pressing herself into him. She couldn’t possibly be close enough to him.

Calum’s hands were warm against her skin, the couple of rings he wore chilling her gloriously, and he tasted like the mint gum he’d been chewing in the car. The subtle flutter in her stomach whenever Calum smiled at her had erupted into a hoard of butterflies, his tongue sliding against hers. God, she knew it was a bad idea, knew she was crossing a professional line she had never ventured near. But the way Calum’s thumbs caressed her cheek, kissed her so softly yet intensely, had Nura throwing caution in the wind. How could she possibly focus on anything else when Calum was kissing her like it was what his lips were made to do?

They pulled apart too soon, a brush of lips and labored breathing, and Nura kept her eyes closed as she reveled in the warmth Calum’s body provided. Her heart was racing, his nose brushing against hers, and Nura found herself wanting to stay close. Bad ideas never seemed so good right now. “Yeah,” she finally breathed out, ragged and overwhelmed, eyes still closed as her lips curled into a dazed smile. “Definitely worth it it.”

*****

It was a long day. Every so often, the long days caught up to Nura and the day couldn’t be over quick enough as she made her around her specific areas. Her sneakers, though they were comfortable, at this point seemed to be too tight on her feet and she couldn’t wait to go back to her room and collapse for the night. Except it was one in the afternoon and her hour lunch break wasn’t for another half hour. A little bit less, she realized as she glanced at her Apple Watch and read the time as 1:06. Not fast enough though. And it didn’t help that she was waiting to hear back from some publishing firms she had applied to work for, itching to check her e-mail every few minutes. The day was already taking a toll on her.

God, she wanted to nap.

The Florida sun was something she was used to, but today it only seemed to slow her down. She kept walking from the restaurant to the pool, providing guests with drinks and snacks whenever they demanded them. Mundane, repetitive, but she got paid for it, so Nura walked around and did her job with a pleasant smile on her face despite it feeling so strained on her cheeks.

It wasn’t too bad, though, because at least while she was around the pool, she got to see Calum. He, Luke, Sierra, Michael and Crystal were all by the pool, and it was taking all of Nura’s willpower and every ounce of her professionalism not to openly admire the glow of Calum’s skin under the beaming sun, or trace the ink decorating his skin with her gaze. Their eyes would meet every now and again, and though Nura focused on doing her work, she could still feel the weight of his stare on her. It was nerve wracking and thrilling in the best ways.

Ever since their kiss last week, there had been so many more snuck in. While she worked, Calum spent time with his friends in various activities the resort offered, but as soon as she clocked out, he was joining her in her room for dinner and a TV show to binge—even if, by the end, the show was long forgotten and they were too busy with dizzying kisses and wandering hands. It was a dangerous game they were playing, Nura knew, but all of her worries seem to melt away when she was with Calum. And it felt good, for once, to not constantly think of life’s problems that had taken residence on her shoulders. It felt so good to get lost in Calum’s kisses, his touch, to melt under his warm gaze and be the reason for that stunning smile. 

“Nura, you can take your break after dropping off that order,” Mr. Gonzalez said as she picked up a small tray with a single mango smoothie on it to be delivered poolside.

She nodded, stifling the yawn threatening to escape as she made her way back to the pool to give the drink to the middle aged woman who had ordered it. Nura balanced the circular trap on the palm of her right hand, left hand gripping the rim of the tray for extra security as she made her way over. The woman was sitting just a few feet away, and Nura couldn’t wait to give her the drink and go for her break.

And maybe she’d gotten lost in her thoughts, let herself get too distracted, but Nura hadn’t registered the two kids that were running past her, hadn’t heard their excited shoulders behind her over the busy poolside hum. But just as she reached the woman, the kids, probably about nine or ten years old, roughly bumped into Nura as they went, and the startled gasp ripped past her throat faster than she could grab the glass as it toppled over, sending the yellow colored smoothie splattering right onto the woman who’d been waiting for it.

Nura heard the few gasps around her, but they sounded distant over the sound of her rapid heartbeat and the woman’s startled shriek of, “Oh, my God!”

Face flushing in an embarrassed heat, Nura covered her mouth briefly, eyes wide in mortification as she stammered out, “Oh, God, I’m so sorry, ma’am. I—Let me grab you a towel.”

“Don’t!” the woman snapped, ripping her sunglasses off her face to fix Nura with a fierce glare with icy blue eyes. Nura stopped, blood frozen and eyes apologetically wide. She was all too aware of the stares she and the now soaked woman were receiving, and she couldn’t be more horrified over the whole encounter. Especially as the pissed off woman sat up and continued, “You’ll manage to fuck that up, too. What, do you not know how to walk?”

They had been trained for moments such as this, where the customers create a scene just like what the woman was doing. But in the six summers Nura worked at the resort, nothing like this had ever happened to her, and in this moment, she forgot all about what she was told as she remained frozen in her spot, humiliated by the way she was being spoken to and angry that she couldn’t say anything back without the risk of being fired.

“Ma’am,” Nura began, hating that her voice was a bit unsteady, holding the tray to her chest and picking up the now empty glass. Throat working, she continued, “Let me get you a towel and—and another drink—”

“Don’t bother,” the woman scoffed, pulling out the towel she was laying on to wipe at her skin. The scowl was a permanent fixture on her face as she looked up at Nura. “You’re lucky you didn’t break the glass, or else I would’ve sued your ass faster than you can—”

“Hey—it was an accident and she already apologized. Move the fuck on.” Nura’s eyes widened, heart stopping in her chest as she whipped her head to the right to see Calum next to her. She gaped at him, breath still in her lungs as she wondered what the fuck he was doing as his own scowl was directed towards the seated woman.

Who, in turn, stared up at him with incredulity and irritation. Though many people were watching the scene, Nura was absently relieved that all action around the pool hadn’t ceased, because if there had been complete silence, she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle any more humiliation than this. “Who the hell are you?” the woman demanded with a frown. “She spilled the damn drink on me—can’t even fucking do her job right.”

Nura’s face was on fire, that much she was certain of. And it certainly didn’t help when Calum took a step forward, figure looming and intimidating, as he snapped, “Accidents happen. If you’re so bothered, get off your ass and get your drink yours—”

The woman’s eyebrows had show up and jaw had dropped in astonishment, and Nura quickly cut in with a hasty, “I’m so sorry, ma’am. I’ll send someone else for your drink,” and, without thinking, grabbed Calum’s arm and roughly pulled him away.

Nura was too aware of the eyes on her, hearing Calum’s flip flops drag on the floor and his indignant protests as she told Lorraine to help out the pissed off lady by the pool, and it wasn’t until they were away from the pool and restaurant and headed towards her room where she finally let out a sharp breath.

“What the hell was that?” Nura demanded harshly, not even bothering to look at Calum as she made her way towards her room. She didn’t even want to eat anymore. She just needed to be in her room where she could have a proper fucking meltdown. Thank God her suite wasn’t far. They were already entering the hall with the brisk steps Nura had been taking.

Calum easily kept up with her pace, and she could hear his own anger as he returned, “She was treatin’ you like shit. I couldn’t just let her do that.”

Her vexation getting the best of her, Nura let out a humorless laugh, jamming her key into the door before shoving it open. “That’s fucking hilarious coming from you.”

Calum shut the door, the slam sounding distant as Nura’s heart pounded in her ear as she turned to face him. She didn’t even pause to admire him standing there in just a pair of black swimming trunks, the scowl on his face matching the one she wore. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he demanded, scoffing as he took a few steps towards her. Nura stood her ground, jaw tight. “Are you seriously bringing that up again? I thought we were fucking passed that, Nura.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, defiant as her skin remained hot to the touch. “I thought so to, until you decided to say fuck my job and tried to play the hero when I didn’t ask for one.”

He genuinely looked bewildered at her statement and Nura knew it was because he didn’t think what he did was wrong. And while if she was more level headed, she would understand why he thought that, but right now it only fueled the fire burning her blood. There was a good chance he just made things worse. Gesturing towards the door behind him, Calum exclaimed, “That woman was being a bitch to you!”

Nura clicked her tongue loudly, looking away with an irritated shake of her head before returning, “It’s just part of the job. You’d know if you ever had one!”

Calum scoffed, incredulous and angry all at the same time as he raised his eyebrows at her. “Excuse me?”

“It’s all a part of working in customer service.” Nura let out a breath, lips curling in a near condescending smirk as she eyed him. “But I wouldn’t expect a trust fund brat like you to know that.”

His eyes narrowed, darkening as he took the few steps towards her, tall body towering over hers and Nura hated the excited twist in her stomach, and the thrill that shot down her spine, when Calum’s voice dropped and he returned darkly, “Only one being a brat here is you.”

Electricity shot through Nura’s core at Calum’s words, only being able to release a small breath until his lips captured hers in a rough, dizzying kiss that had her instantly wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. It was a frenzied kiss, desperate and heated as Calum’s fingers instinctively worked on the button of Nura’s black uniform shorts, and thank fucking God he was only in swimming trunks as he pushed her shorts down her legs and she kicked them off.

They were a mess of heavy breaths, needy kisses, and working hands as the kiss briefly broke when Calum lifted Nura’s shirt off, a fire brimming in her chest as he pushed her onto the bed before climbing over her body to connect their lips once more. He tasted of beer and cigarettes, and Nura didn’t at all mind the combination as the scruff on his chin scratched at her skin, his warm body pressing into hers as Calum broke their kiss and Nura let out a dazed, breathy gasp when his plush lips teased her neck with kisses.

Her anger and humiliation from before melted away under Calum’s body, eyes fluttering shut as one hand went to the back of his head, fingers threading through his growing dark hair and head tilting back as she reveled in the way his lips and tongue and teeth worked at her neck. She was overwhelmed by him; by his taste, touch, scent as Calum moved lower, lower, lower, his lips leaving a trail of electricity in his wake as he kept going down her body, brown eyes absent of his own previous aggravation and flashing with wicked mischief as she watched him reach her underwear.

When he pulled it down, Nura bit down on her grinning lower lip, head tilting back into the pillows as his lips teased the inside of her thighs with kisses. 

Fuck a nap; this was exactly how she wanted to spend her break.

“I’m sorry ’bout what happened at the pool.” Nura felt Calum’s chest lightly vibrate under her ear as he spoke in a rasp, her gaze fixed on he way her fingers played with his. The room had fallen into a tranquil silence, the steady beat of Calum’s heart calming Nura more than a nap would have. “I just hated seein’ the way that woman spoke to you. Reminded me of how I spoke to you and I’m sorry for it.”

Nura’s eyebrows furrowed at that, lifting her head to look at Calum. He was resting against her headboard, the sheets doing well to cover her bare chest as she laid next to him. Calum’s brown eyes met hers and Nura’s features softened as the little bit of guilt she could still see in them. “You don’t have to apologize. I forgave you for that a long time ago.” The corner of his lips quirked up but Calum still didn’t let himself smile, and Nura rested her hand on his chest as she sighed. “Thank you for defending me. And I’m sorry, too, for being such a bitch about it.”

“No, don’t,” Calum said with a shake of his head, his left hand coming up to cover her right one on his chest. Nura glanced down, feeling a smile tug on her lips at his warm touch, at the way his tattooed hand seemed to perfectly hold hers. Her brown eyes met his soft ones, feeling herself melt under his gaze all over again. “It wasn’t my place to jump in like that, no matter how much it pissed me off. I put you in a tough spot and that wasn’t fair of me.”

Nura felt her smile grow, heart fluttering in her chest at the sincerity in Calum’s voice. She then let out a chuckle, shaking her head as she responded to Calum’s curious expression with, “Either we suck at apologizing to each other, or we’re really good at it.”

Calum scoffed, his grin finally appearing, bright and beautiful. “I think it’s the latter,” he said with a quick wink, leaning forward to connect their lips in a toe curling, breathtaking kiss.

She would’ve continued it, except her phone let out a notification ding, and Calum groaned in protest when Nura pulled away with a light giggle. She reached over Calum, ended up laying with her stomach on his as she grabbed her phone from the bedside and read the new e-mail she’d received. And as her eyes took in the words on the screen, Nura’s heart dropped and a gasp escaped her throat. “Oh, shit!”

“What?” Calum asked, worry creeping into his voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, my God,” Nura laughed, the excitement widening the grin on her face, reading the e-mail one last time before letting out a thrilled squeal. She kicked her legs excitedly, earning a bewildered laugh from Calum until she finally announced, voice high with enthusiasm, “Penguin Random House is offering me a job in their editorial department! Oh, my God—I got the job!”

She looked back at Calum as the words fell past her lips, catching the way his eyebrows shot up and something flashed across his eyes, akin to happiness and pride, before a grin split across his face. Those crinkles she adored so much appeared, just for her, as Calum laughed, “That’s incredible, doll—congratulations!”

Her stomach was wild with butterflies, cheeks aching from the grin she wore as she let out a squeal and pushed herself up to hug Calum. She laughed against him, feeling his arms wrap around her as he squeezed her tightly, bodies flushed as she felt his nose nudge at her neck. “Oh, my God—I’m moving to New York.” That had been the dream; to land a job at a publishing firm, preferably in New York City, and move there to start her life as proper adult. The thought was fucking terrifying, but one that brought Nura a kind of happiness she couldn’t comprehend.

Fuck, if only she didn’t have to go back to work in ten minutes. She’d properly be able to celebrate—especially since Calum was already in her bed.

*****

“Nura? Mr. McNulty would like to see you in his office.”

She looked up from where she was leaning against the bar, checking her e-mail to see another offer had come in. Over the past few days, ever since that first e-mail from Penguin Random House, the other firms Nura had applied to had finally reached back after the many video interviews she had done. She’d gotten job offers to most of them, including Simon & Schuster, which was her top choice, with Penguin being her second. Her days, despite dealing with the same kind of people all of the time, carried on with a happier note with each acceptance.

“Okay,” Nura nodded, pocketing her phone and taking off her apron. Riley took it from her, storing it under the bar as Nura walked out of the restaurant and in the direction of the main lobby of the resort. She couldn’t be sure why Mr. McNulty was calling her, but it was opportune; Nura could take that moment to tell him she wouldn’t be coming back next summer. Or ever again.

She reached his office door, knocking until she heard him answer with a “Come in.” Mr. McNulty glanced up from his computer, leaning back as he said, “Oh, Ms. Ansari, good. Please, have a seat.”

Nura was good at reading people, and right now, she got an uneasy vibe off of Mr. McNulty. He didn’t look entirely happy, elbows resting on the arm rests of his chair and hands linked together as Nura slowly sat down on the chair in front of his desk. “Is everything alright, sir?”

“I’m afraid not, Nura,” he said with a sigh, leaning forward as he clicked something on the laptop in front of him. Her eyebrows drew together as he turned the laptop to show her the screen as he said, “This is you with one of our resort guests, correct?”

Nura’s gaze went to the screen, heart in her throat as she watched a video of her exiting Calum’s bungalow from a few days ago, pausing on the steps as Calum leaned in to kiss her. The video ended with Nura turning around, giving the camera a clear shot of her face before it automatically stopped—along with Nura’s heart.

Shit. Oh, fucking shit.

Her lips parted, blood rushing in her ears as she tried to find the right words. “Sir, I-I can explain—”

“You know our policy, Ms. Ansari,” Mr. McNulty cut in with a shake of his head. He didn’t look angry, per se. Just disappointed, which Nura knew was worse. Especially since she knew the man, they got along well. She had never had such a transgression, and she was absolutely mortified. Fuck. She knew this would happen, knew they hadn’t been careful. “Engaging in relationships with our guests is against company regulations, and is grounds for immediate firing.”

Which would go on her record, and although she was going to quit anyway and already got offered jobs at all those firms, there was still the risk of them finding out about her getting fired from the resort. And she knew the reason for it wouldn’t be taken lightly, either. Shit. She was screwed.

She couldn’t even look Mr. McNulty in the eye, gaze dropped to her lap where she picked at her nails, face flushed in an embarrassed, saddened heat. How could she have been so dumb? So careless? Fuck.

“However—” Nura looked up when Mr. McNulty began speaking again, taking in the resigned expression he wore. “You have been with us for over five years, and despite your mistake, you’ve been an essential employee at Little Palms. Which is why I’m willing to offer you a deal.” She sat up, breath stilling in her lungs, eagerly and carefully listening. “I’m going to give you the chance of voluntarily submitting your resignation, effective immediately. You will get paid for the hours you have worked, but you will need to leave by the end of the day. This way, it doesn’t go on your record. Does that sound fair to you?”

Nura let out a heavy breath, disbelief crossing her features. She had already been planning to quit, and although that wouldn’t have been effective until the end of summer, doing so now was better than being fired. It would suck, Nura knew, having to leave the friends she made here quicker than she had anticipated, but Mr. McNulty’s offer was the lesser of two evils. At this point, she didn’t care what was fair or what wasn’t. It was her fault for being careless despite knowing the rules of the resort, and Mr. McNulty’s generosity wasn’t something she was going to take with a grain of salt.

“I—Yes. Yes, sir. That’s fair,” Nura nodded quickly, throat tight. None of it was fair, but it wasn’t like she was going to be unemployed. She had jobs lined up. It would be okay. She would be fine. “Thank you, Mr. McNulty.”

He nodded as the two of them stood up, and he reached his hand out and said, “It was wonderful having you with us, Ms. Ansari. I wish you the best of luck in your endeavors.”

She offered a small smile, shaking his hand firmly. “Thank you, sir.”

It wasn’t until she walked out of his office did Nura let out a breath, eyes closing briefly before opening as she leaned her head back and looked up at the ceiling. She wasn’t going to lie—that was kind of shitty. And although she knew she could use the extra time to pack up her life and get ready for her move to New York, it still left a small hole in her heart. Mr. McNulty only allowed her to resign out of her loyalty to the resort; so easily could she have just been fired, and Nura knew that would’ve sucked more. Still, it wasn’t wrong—or at least, she didn’t think it was—that the situation left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Nura sighed once more, giving a shake of her head as she began walking, figuring she might as well head to her suite to start packing. Her phone let out a ding and she pulled it out, eyebrows raising when she saw an e-mail from a Penguin Random House address. Nura hummed in acknowledgment, walking as she read the message from the woman who was the head of the editorial department, feeling a small smile tug at her lips as she read that the woman was excited to hear more from her, and that she hoped Nura accepted their offer.

And the e-mail had made her smile, reminding her of the hope she still had and how today wasn’t so shitty, until she got to the last line of the e-mail.

I’m so glad Mr. Hood—or Calum, as you may know him—recommended you to our firm. His e-mail only reaffirmed our decision in moving forward with your application.

Nura stopped, eyebrows slowly knitting together as she read those two sentences over and over again, hoping that she was only imagining them. But the more she read them, the clearer they got, and the heat that simmered in her veins only seemed to intensify with each second that passed by.

What the fuck.

He had reached out to them on her behalf? What the hell had he been thinking? Nura ran her fingers through her hair, letting out a sharp breath as she remembered the day she’d gotten the e-mail from them. He had been with her and he kept his damn mouth, didn’t even think to mention that he’d talked to them. 

Good thing he hadn’t, or else she would’ve probably ripped his head off while he was naked in her bed.

Heart drumming wildly in her chest, Nura texted him with trembling thumbs, casually asking him where he was. When he responded almost instantly, telling her he was at the beach, Nura didn’t think twice. She didn’t care she had to get her things ready—she needed to have a conversation with him first.

She arrived to the beach quickly, deaf to the sounds of people enjoying themselves and music playing and waves crashing. The sand was soft under her sneakers, eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun as she searched for Calum, or maybe even his friends, knowing he was with them. She walked in the direction of the shore, looking right and then left, jaw clenching when she caught sight of him resting on a towel under an umbrella. 

Nura stormed over, her anger and indignation overwhelming her, ignoring the greetings his friends offered her as she stood in front of his now sitting body when he heard her name being uttered by everyone else. “I need to talk to you,” Nura stated through gritted teeth. God, she was so angry, so outraged that he would meddle in her business the way he had, no matter his intentions. 

Calum frowned from behind his sunglasses, taking them off before he slowly stood up. Not even his stupid tattooed body could distract Nura from the glare she wore. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?”

Nope. No endearing nickname would distract her either. Nails digging into her palms, Nura demanded, “Did you reach out to Penguin Random House on my behalf so they would give me the job?”

She saw the realization flash across Calum’s face, lips parting as guilt tugged at his features and the knot in Nura’s stomach tightened. All of Calum’s friends had fallen silent as he started, “I—yeah, I did, but Nura—they were goin’ to give you the job anyway.”

“Maybe!” she exclaimed defiantly, eyebrows shooting up. “But it was what you did that made them go through with it, and I didn’t fucking ask you to do that.”

“Nura—” Calum let out a breath, frowning down at her as he gave a shake of his head. “I was just tryin’ to help.”

The sun was burning down her back, and it only drove Nura’s irritation further. Her chest felt tight, hating every minute of this. “I didn’t ask you to,” she repeated through gritted teeth, expression as hard as her eyes, and she knew Calum could see that. “I want to have a job because of my own hard work, not because of anything else.” She crossed her arms over her chest, voice lacing with a bitter venom as she added, “But I guess that’s too hard for someone who hasn’t worked a damn day in their life to understand.”

The hurt flashed across Calum’s face and for a moment, Nura regretted the words she’d uttered. God, they had been past that. She had stopped throwing his access to money in his face, had realized he was so much more than his bank account. But she was so angry in his act of meddling, and she lashed out when she was hurt, uncaring of who got caught in the damage. And it didn’t matter how much she liked Calum, how much he made her smile or laugh or feel good. He hadn’t respected her work ethic, had interfered when he wasn’t needed, and it only ended up hurting her. So she hurt him.

Nura took a step back, thinning her lips at him, uncaring of his friends’ stares as her brown eyes remained locked with Calum’s. His eyebrows were drawn together, the hurt more prominent on his face than anything else, and although the sight of him looking at her light that tightened Nura’s throat, it didn’t stop her from saying, “You cost me two jobs today, Calum. Do me a favor and stay the hell away.”

He saw the alarmed confusion in his eyes at her words, but Nura didn’t give him a chance to say anything as she turned and walked away, arms crossed tightly as she made her way off the beach. She knew he tried to go after her, was stopped when Ashton said, “Let her go, man,” and a dry sob escaped Nura as soon as she was far enough away from them. She felt her face scrunch up as she fought to keep the tears away; tears of anger, of sadness, of hurt—whatever the fuck they may be. It all came crashing into her after disappearing from Calum’s intense, pleading gaze, and Nura only let the tears fall when she was in the privacy of her bedroom.

She had expected to say goodbye to the resort soon enough. Saying goodbye to Calum, though, had never crossed her mind. 

*****

“She’s settled well in New York,” Mrs. Ansari told him with a smile, a happiness in her eyes as she spoke about her daughter. “She always wanted to get out of Florida, and even though I don’t like her being so far, I know she’s happy. That’s all I can ask for.”

Calum smiled, looking down at his hands as he twirled one of his rings. “She’s definitely a city girl—I’m not surprised she fits right in,” he said, unable to keep the fondness from slipping into his tone. Her face flashed across his mind; glimmering brown eyes and a smile that rendered him breathless every time. “They’re lucky to have her there.”

There was a silence that settled upon them briefly, and Calum heard the sound of porcelain clicking against glass as Mrs. Ansari put her mug of tea on the coffee table. “She told me what you did.” Calum’s throat worked as he looked up to meet the older woman’s gaze, surprised when she smiled at him gently. “Your heart was in the right place, Calum, and I know Nura knows that. She’s just. . .” She trailed off with a soft chuckle. “She’s independent, always has been. Her father and I raised her to work hard for what she wants and what you did, although it was only out of good intentions, made her feel as though you didn’t value who she was.”

Calum sat up, hating that that was ever a thought in Nura’s head. He admired her, so fucking much. And helping her had been such a natural instinct that Calum hadn’t stopped to think how it could be interpretated. Fuck, he should’ve known that the only way to help Nura was to support her in how she chose to run her life, not pave a pathway for her. Calum shook his head with a sigh, gaze dropping once more as he stared at his half drank cup of tea. Without even thinking, he murmured, “I value her more than anything.”

And he did. Of course he did. She’d come into his life like a whirlwind when he least expected it, when he was too busy being bitter over the way Dawn’s life had been moving forward despite her taking advantage of him. Nura was better than anyone Calum had ever met. She never took advantage of him, was quick to knock him down a peg or two when he needed to be, and, fuck, he loved her for it. Of all the things in the resort, Nura was the one who gave him a peace of mind, who pulled him out of the vat of bitterness that Dawn had thrown him in. He’d gone to Little Palm to so the beach and ocean and everything else in between could distract him. But it was Nura who did so by keeping him on his toes in the best way possible. 

He heard the smile in Mrs. Ansari’s voice. “Give her some time, beta. If you truly care about her, and I can tell that you do, you’ll try one more time.”

The late October chill of New York was something Calum was familiar with. He enjoyed it, a nice change from the warmth of Los Angeles, and he didn’t mind standing out on the sidewalk, back leaning against his car as he kept his gaze fixated on the front door of the building in front of him. His hands were kept warm in the pocket of his long dark grey coat, watching each person that walked out of the door, hoping it was the one familiar face he had been in search for.

He had half a mind to pull out a cigarette to warm him up, but he didn’t want the first time she saw him in months to be when he smelled of tobacco. Fuck, he didn’t even know if she wanted to see him. For all he knew, she would see him waiting outside and turn right back into the building. His heart drummed in his chest, and no words of reassurances from his friends or Mrs. Ansari echoing in his brain could ever prepare him for the moment that Nura emerged from the revolving door of Simon & Schuster, dark hair dancing in the breeze as she took in a breath of the late afternoon New York air.

Calum’s heart leaped in his throat the second he saw her, pushing himself off the car and standing straight, feeling every drop of blood racing in his veins as Nura started descending the concrete steps and looked up, only for her dark eyes to lock onto Calum’s.

Nura stopped where she stood, hands buried in the pocket of her own peacoat and he wondered if she was trying to determine whether she was imagining him or not. He saw the shock on her face, lips parted as Calum took a tentative step forward. There was still about fifteen feet worth of space between them, filled with people passing by, and he was desperate to close it.

“What—” Nura let out a breath, and Calum swore he didn’t think he had missed her voice so much. She finally descended the stairs, making her way towards him, eyebrows drawing together as she asked, “What’re you doing here?”

For a moment, all Calum could do was stare at her. Standing in front of him after months of just being a memory in his head, Calum was desperate to drink in the sight of her for as long as he could. She looked beautiful, unsurprisingly, having replaced her resort uniform with jeans, heeled boots and a turtleneck under her coat. Absolutely stunning.

“I—” Calum paused, clearing his throat before he reached into the inner pocket of his coat, pulling out the item that had been weighing it down. Nura watched, her eyebrows rising at the item in his hands. “I thought you’d want your book back.”

A scoff escaped Nura’s upturning lips, taking her copy of Aristotle and Dante from his hands. She had never asked for it back when she left the resort, and it had been the only thing Calum had of Nura’s once she left. He’d read the book once and then twice over, soaking in the words that had become her favorite to read. He felt closer to her every time he read it, momentarily allowing himself to forget how he had fucked things up between them.

Nura rolled her lips into her mouth before lifting her gaze to meet his eyes, gently asking, “Did you like it?”

Calum rolled his lips into his mouth, hands returning to the pockets of his coat. “It was beautiful,” he nodded, voice softer than he intended. He looked down at his shoes then, black Docs stark against the pavement. “Ari kind of frustrated me, though.”

“How come?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, considering his next words carefully before he told himself to just stop thinking. He’d been thinking of saying them for so long. Now, he finally would. “It took him so long to figure out he loved Dante.” Calum’s gaze met Nura’s, offering her a small, close mouthed smile, a bit sad, but truthful. “But for me, figuring out I loved you was the easiest thing.”

Calum heard the sharp inhale Nura took at his words, brown eyes framed by long lashes widening as she gaped at him, and Calum didn’t regret it. He’d been holding those words in for so long, had kept them in his chest to the point where it had become almost painful. Now they were out there, spoken to the person they were meant to, and now Nura had the power. So he stood there, watching her, waiting for her to say something. Anything.

He saw the subtle way her eyebrows drew together, grip on her book tightening as her throat worked. “I—” Nura took an unsteady breath and Calum wondered if she could hear his pounding heart. Nura dropped her gaze, looking down at the book, letting out a nervous chuckle as she said, “Well, Ari’s a gay kid in 1987, so things weren’t so easy for him figure out—”

God, if she was anyone else, Calum would’ve hurt his eyes by how hard he would’ve rolled him. Instead, he felt himself letting out a breathless chuckle, some of the nervous tension easing in his muscles as he took a step towards her and cut in, “But I also admire him.” Nura pressed her lips together, watching him as Calum offered a small smile. “Because he gave me the push to come out here, to tell you how I feel, to apologize for the way I fucked things up.”

She was listening to him intently, eyes wide and earnest, and Calum pulled his hands out of his pockets and cupped her cheeks. Her skin was as soft as he remembered it, felt a ghost of a smile curl his lips when her eyes fluttered as soon as he touched her. Even in the heart of New York, he could smell her delicious vanilla scent.

“You make me better, Nura. With your jokes and your ethics and all of the things that make you, you. Watching you push yourself pushes me, and that makes you the best person I know.” 

“Oh, shit.” Calum let out a short laugh at the whisper she let out, looking up at him in awe and incredulity. He hadn’t meant to make her speechless, but he needed her to hear the truth, every ounce of it. She licked her lips, the corners tugging up. “That’s, uh, a lot of credit you’re giving me.”

Calum’s own lips formed a smirk, still feeling his nerves buzz in his veins. “You deserve it,” he told her before tilting his chin and widening his smirk. “You pushed me to open up my own record shop, after all.”

Nura’s eyebrows shot up, surprise crossing her features. “What? Seriously?”

“Mhm,” Calum confirmed, thumb stroking her cheek. “Over in Brooklyn. Complete with records, instruments, and even lessons by yours truly.” Then, with a cheeky grin, he added, “Gonna check out that hard work thing you’re always talking about.”

Nura laughed at that, using the book to lightly smack his arm as Calum laughed, feeling the knot in his stomach loosen almost completely. When her laughter quieted, brown eyes lifting to meet his, she softly asked, “Did you mean it, what you said? That you. . . You love me?”

Calum’s smile softened, throat working as her eyes provided him with a warmth against the New York chill. He lowered his chin, eyes on hers as he confirmed, “I love you.”

Nura’s chest fell with a sharp exhale, and Calum briefly caught sight of her wide grin before she closed the gap between them with a press of her lips to his. Heat warmed Calum throughout his body as he kissed her back, leaning into her the way he had been desperate to do so for months, feeling her arms wind around his waist as she held him close. It felt so good, so fucking right to kiss her, to feel her so closely, to love her like he wanted to.

“I love you, too,” she murmured against his lips, a giggle escaping her as she uttered those words so happily. 

They pulled away with thundering hearts and giddy grins, and the flush in her cheeks told Calum that they would be okay. It was all the reassurance he needed. Calum grinned, snickering lightly as he hooked an arm around Nura’s neck and mused, “Money can’t buy me that.”

Nura’s expression fell flat, bemused despite Calum’s teasing grin, and she smacked her lips together with a roll of her eyes before saying, “Shut up and kiss me again.”

His face hurt from how widely he was grinning, ready and willing to comply. “Yes, ma’am.”

--

tags: @irwinkitten​ @loveroflrh​ @softforcal​ @sweetcherrymike​ @astroashtonio​ @meetashthere​ @novacanecalum​ @captain-what-is-going-on​ @angelbbycal​ @singt0mecalum​ @hopelessxcynic​ @lfwallscouldtalk​ @bodhi-black​ @findingliam-o​ @softlrh​ @highfivecalum​ @calumsmermaid​ @erikamarie41​ @quintodosuniversos​ @longlastingdaydream​ @babylon-corgis​ @lukehemmingsunflower​ @imfuckin10plybud​ @pastelpapermoons​ @conquerwhatliesahead92​ @rotten-kandy​ @metangi​ @neigcthood​ @ohhmuke​ @old-zeppelin-shirt​ @5sos-and-hessa​ @trustmeimawhalebiologist​ @vxlentinecal​ @pettybassists​ @vaporshawn​ @lu-my-golden-boi​ @visualm3nte​ @isabella-mae13​ @dontjinx-it​ @lifeakaharry​ @neonweeknds​ @antisocialbandmate​ @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave​ @calpalbby​ @grreatgooglymoogly​ @sunnysidesblog​ @miahelizaaabeth​ @madelynerin​ @dramallamawithsparkles​ @kaytiebug14​ @hoodskillerqueen​ @bitchinbabylon​ @empathycth​ @xhaileyreneex​ @inlovehoodx​ @aestheticrelated​ @bloodlinecal​ @sublimehood​ @madbomb​ @raabiac​ @britnicole11​ @outofmylimitcal​ @wildflower-cth​ @wildflowergrae​ @bloodmoonashton​ @vxidhood​ @gosh-im-short​ @thesubtweeter​  

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rare [Javier Peña x f!reader]

A/N: mmkay so this happened. enjoy. (inspired by rare by selena gomez?? perhaps…..)

Summary: You’ve fallen for DEA Agent Peña, but you feel like he doesn’t feel the same way about you. So you decide to walk away.

Warnings: pure angst (with a happy ending cause we deserve it), violence, death, blood, fluff.

Word count: 2.7k

masterlist

You’ve had it enough of him. You’ve had enough of caring and always being there for him and not getting the same treatment in return.

Javier Peña is an asshole. The type of man all the whores in town know very well. The type of man that just wants to get his dick yet. The type of man that leaves in the morning and never calls back. And you just couldn’t take it. Besides all the looks and whispers from people in the office, you really didn’t feel like he cared about you. He’d show up whenever he wanted, and after, you wouldn’t see him for weeks until he’d show up again. Every time, you’d wake up alone and upset, when all you wanted was for him to like you the same way you liked him.

You cursed the day your boss insisted for you to interview one of the DEA agents involved in the manhunt for Escobar. She wanted a story and she wanted from you. You were new to the small publisher, so you’d accepted the challenge without thinking twice. So you’d met Javier ‘coincidentally’ in a bar and made your move. You thought you were just using him to get information, when at the end of the night you’d found yourself moaning his name between the sheets of your bed. And you hate to admit but ever since that night, Javier Peña never left your mind.

But as time passed you realized what kind of man he was. So you’d distanced yourself. You decided you deserved better. You weren’t going to sit and wait for him to change for you, which was clear it wasn’t going to happen. Until he showed up at your office. Again.

“Agent Peña,” You say, looking up from your computer. You’re not surprised, since this is the third time he comes to your workplace to nag you. Your boss thinks you’re fucking him inside the office, so you make sure to leave the door wide open this time. “What can I help you with?”

Peña chuckles dryly, his gaze on the floor, his hands on his hips like he always did when he was upset.

“So formal…” He mumbles and you pretend you don’t listen.

“Are you finally here to comment on how the manhunt is going?” You question, trying to keep your voice steady.

Javier shakes his head and finally looks at you. Your heart clenches when you see the hurt in his eyes. Maybe he’s really sorry, maybe he really regrets not giving the attention you asked for.

“You moved.” His voice breaks.

It’s true, you had moved from your old apartment after you ended things with him, but that was only because it was closer to your workplace and a friend had offered you to move in with her. It was cheaper, closer to work and it had everything you needed. In times of war it wasn’t wise to walk around in the city late at night. The fact he thinks you did it because of him makes you feel sorry for you, but you don’t tell him the whole truth.

“I did,” You answer nodding. He nods too and you miss the way he presses his lips together, wanting to say so much. He takes a moment to speak again.

“I took you for granted–” He starts, but you interrupt him so fast that you don’t even notice the sadness in his voice.

“Leave,” You demand, standing up from your chair.

“Just listen to me!” He exclaims and hesitates when see tears in your eyes. He sighs and looks behind him to see the entire office has taken an interest in your conversation. He carefully closes the door and looks back at you to see your back facing him. “I’m sorry! I really am, please, just give me another chance!”

You’re trying so hard not to cry when he calls for your name and you almost cave in. Almost.

“Just leave,” You tell him, back still facing him, voice breaking. You realize you must look pathetic and try to pull yourself together, looking at him again.

“Don’t do this to me, Mariposa.” His voice is barely a whisper and you close your eyes at the nickname he gave you. After your first night together, Javier had loved the butterfly tattoo on your hip and the nickname stuck. Your heart always melted at the name, but apparently it meant nothing. Names and words mean nothing when his attitude is shit.

You just look away from him and wait for him to leave. Eventually, he does and you let out a sigh, sitting back at your desk. You don’t feel feel better or relieved by his absence, if anything, you actually miss him. But you just return to typing in your computer, growing accustomed with the feeling.

After a few hours, our boss pokes her head in your office and knocks on the door, interrupting your line of thought. She gave you a pity look and smiled.

“Maybe you’re too involved in this,” She starts and you know exactly what she means. “I’m giving the article to Rosa.”

You got too involved with Javier to publish the article; knowing it’s true, you just wave her off and accept it. Rosa is a nice woman, she’s one of your only friends actually. She’s the one who was there for you every time you got disappointed with Javier. She’s the one who offered her spare bedroom for you two to share an apartment. She’d told you needed a friend and that she was there for you. Maybe she’s going to write that story better than you. But you don’t mind.

You didn’t really want to write it anyway.

…

“A toast,” You say, raising your glass half full of whiskey. You’re sitting with Rosa, at the kitchen counter, celebrating her first front page article. “To the best writer I’ve ever met!”

You’re both a little drunk already, giggling and chuckling, feeling the alcohol in your head, your cheeks heating up.

“Stop.” Rosa laughed, taking a sip from her drink. “I only got it because of you.”

You smiled at her, downing your drink and slamming the glass on the counter. You look at each other and Rosa notices the sadness in your eyes.

“Are you still sad because of that Agent?” She asks and you let out a big sigh, reaching for the bottle of whiskey that is now empty. You let out a little whine and lean your forehead on the cold surface of the counter.

“Tonight is for celebrating,” You whine. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Rosa chuckles, putting a hand on the back of your head.

“That much, huh?” She says and it makes you laugh, looking back at her.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” You repeat, feeling tears on your eyes.

“Hey,” She says comforting you. “Listen to me.” You look up at her again. “You are rare. One of a kind. And if he can’t see that… That’s his loss.”

You smile, tears pricking out of your eyes. You don’t wanna cry, so you shake your head and try to smile. Rosa gives you a pity look and you wave at her. 

“You know what, I’m gonna go get some more alcohol and we’re gonna continue celebrating, how about that?”

Rosa laughs at your sudden mood swing and nods, asking you to bring a bottle of red wine for her. You leave your apartment complex, walking quickly to the store nearby. You don’t take too long, not wanting to be out at night for long, so you buy another bottle of whiskey and a bottle of wine as quick as you can As you walk back to your apartment, something feels weird. You have a feeling in your guts that something’s wrong and you shiver instantly, walking faster.

The feeling increases each step you take towards your apartment. You sigh as you go up the stairs and when you reach your floor, you see the door slightly open. Your heart drops to your stomach as you push the door open. 

A moment of pure fear: Rosa is lying on the floor, a bullet in her head. The blood was all over the carpet and splattered across the wall. Beside her, the newspaper with her story about the Escobar hunt in the front page.

You drop the bag with the drinks on the floor, hearing the glass break,  and try not to scream. Then, you run from there as fast as you can.

…

The knocking is constant and continuous and he takes a moment to fully wake up and walk to the door. Breathing a curse, he runs a hand on his face, rubbing his right eye as he opens the door with the other hand.

You’re in his doorway, white as a sheet, tears in your eyes and shaking hands. Javier immediately wides his eyes, calling your name as a question and you let out a shaky breath.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” Your voice is just a whisper, trembling and cracking.

He doesn’t hesitate and grabs your hands, pulling you into his apartment. He closes the door and puts his hands on your shoulder. You’re a mess by now, tears streaming down your face, eyes wide open.

“Hey, you’re okay. You’re here now,” His voice is soft, like velvet and you close your eyes and let out a sob. Then, he embraces you in his arms and you let it all out.

“S-she– She–” You try to speak, your voice muffled into his shirt. “D-dead. T-they killed–”

Javier pulls away to look at you, putting his hands on the side of your face, wiping your tears.

“Who’s dead?” He asks, a frown between his eyebrows.

You sob once more and try to calm down. “M-my roommate. Rosa.”

Javier sighs and takes your hands, leading you to the couch in the living room and, as you sit down, he makes a phone call to the station, calling the murder in. You look at the floor all the time, unable of not thinking about Rosa’s blood on the carpet.

“Mariposa,” He calls you softly, after hanging up the phone and you close your eyes, letting more tears run through your cheeks. He takes your hand and rubs circles on the back of it, comforting you. “What happened?”

“It could’ve been me,” You say, wiping your nose. “They k-killed her because of that s-stupid article I started writing.”

He frowns. “You mean the one about the manhunt?”

You nod, swallowing hard. “My boss– She-she passed the story to Rosa. T-the story I was writing.” You look at his eyes for the first time through blurry vision and another wave of tears fall down from your eyes. “It… It could’ve been me, Javi.”

He stares at you for a moment and thinks about it. It really could have been you they’d killed, if you had written that article. But you could’ve been killed anyway if you were inside the apartment when they’d broke in. And his heart clenched at the thought of you dead on the floor, with blood all over the carpet.

Javi pulls you into a hug and buries his hand on your hair, softly playing with it and letting you cry on his shoulder.

“You’re gonna be okay,” He whispered, hugging you tighter. “I’m here.”

…

You open your eyes and the light of the morning hurts your vision for a moment. Your head hurts and your eyes are still burning from the cry you had last night. You look around you and see yourself on Javier’s bed, on your own. You swallow hard and realize you’re very thirsty, so you stand up and wobbles your way to the kitchen.

When you get to the living room, you see Javi lying on the couch, fast asleep and, for a moment, you smile faintly. You’re glad that you’d came to him and not the police.

In all of your booty calls with Javier, you’ve been to his apartment only once. Not much had changed ever since. When you get to the kitchen, your head is pounding and you take a deep breath, trying to focus on anything else, but the events of last night. So you think about him. About how he held you and comforted you while you were a making a mess on his shirt.

You cringe as you think of yourself with snot coming out of your nose and ruining Javier’s shirt. Closing your eyes you rubbed your forehead, you think how you don’t even remember falling asleep, which leads you to think he carried you to his bed, took off your shoes and tucked you in with a soft blanket.

“You okay?” His voice’s low and husky, as it always sounded when he wakes up.

You look at him, a little startled by the interruption of your thoughts, and smile as best as you can. The smile comes off as tired and sad. He smiles back: an apologetic smile.

“Do you have pain killers?” You don’t recognize your own voice, sounding so tired and rough. “I have a headache.”

He nods and walks into the kitchen and opens the lower cabinet as you take a clean glass from the counter and fill it with tap water. When you turn back to face him, you bump into his shirtless torso as he’s standing too close. You both chuckle and he takes a step back to give you some space, with his hand open to give you the pill. As you take it from him, your fingers brush into his skin lightly.

You swallow the pill quickly and drink some water. You turn your back to him once more, placing the glass in the sink. There’s a moment of silence while the both of you think of what to say. After a few minutes, you decide to break the silence.

“Listen–”

“I'm–”

You both say at the same time and then pause, laughing right after.

“You first,” He says, giving you a small smile.

“Thank you for last night,” You breathe. “If it weren’t for you… I think I’d still be in shock.”

You chuckle dryly, your smile disappearing right after. Javier, then, approaches you, but hesitates to touch you.

“I’m sorry about what happened.” He says, gently. You’re amazed of how gentle he’s been ever since you’d showed up here. “You don’t have to thank me, I’ll always be there for you.”

You feel tears blurry your vision and tear your gaze away from him.

“God, I was such a bitch to you at the office…”

Javi smiles at you, now gently putting his hands on your face, wiping the tears, like he did last night.

“I deserved it.”

You sniff and smile at him.

“I meant what I said that day,” He continued, looking right into her eyes. “I did take you for granted and when you left I realized… There’s no one like you. I realized I’d never find another girl like you. I’m sorry I was an asshole.”

Your eyes dart between his and, for a moment, you just stare at them, seeing the honesty and humility in them. You know he’s telling you the truth. Without thinking twice, you approach him, closing your eyes and pressing your lips against his.

It’s a light kiss, but as soon as your skin makes contact with his, you melt into his arms. Your hands are suddenly on his shoulders and he pulls you closer to him. When you pull back he smiles at you.

“I’ll give you a second chance, then,” You whisper, your hand now tangled in his hair, playing with it.

“Thank you, Mariposa.”

He kisses your cheeks and buries his face in your neck pulling you into a hug.

You smile at the touch of his lips to your neck and close your eyes, thinking about how Javier Peña just told you that you’re rare. Just like Rosa did. He pulls away and kisses you one more time. You melt into his touch. That’s when it comes to you.

You’ve fallen in love with Javier Peña.

[liquor-and-intellect]

Clouded- Part 2

In which Jules might or might not have feelings for her best friend, Harry, who is getting engaged to another girl and everything just becomes… more complicated.

or

friends to lovers to enemies to lovers- it’s complicated 

part one

Here’s a huge part 2. I hope you all like it!!!

There was this one time when I was younger where I had burned myself.

   A lanky braced-face boy that I had the biggest crush on had asked my friend to the school dance and that was all she had talked about for the lunch hour. I was crushed, heartbroken and alone sitting in front of my fireplace while my parents were next door at the Styles’ home for their usual small-town gossip over wine.

   The fire was warm and brilliant. The flames rising and licking at the air, the orange and red bleeding into one another.

   I had sat there then and wondered if it was really hot. I wondered if the flames would hurt me or if it was just a work of fiction. Maybe it was one of those myths parents just told their children to sound wiser.

   I realize now that what I did next was completely idiotic. That people died in house fires and that flames were determined and powerful and didn't spare anything in their path. So why would it choose to not burn me?

   I guess I never got that far because when I tried to grab the flames, my hand was immediately caught and licked followed by a scorching burn. I had yanked it out and ran towards the kitchen and stuck my hand into the cool water flowing from the sink.

   The relief was instant. The cold water running down and across my hand to soothe the ache and pain that only a fire could cause.

   That was how I felt now.

   I felt the water healing all the hurt and grief I had put myself through. Harry was the stream, flowing through me and mending the wounds I didn't know I had.

   His arms immediately wrapped around me, pulling me as close as I could get and kissing me so passionately that— I swear— I felt my heart leaping out of my chest and running towards the door. I've never felt this way before- this was the click I talked about but never experienced.

   His hands slid down my sides, leaving ripples of goosebumps in their wake. The both of us breaking and sparking against one another, like a welder putting a torch to metal. It was so wonderful it hurt.

   There was no speaking, just the two of us in each other’s embrace, letting out all the love we had built up over every single year. His nose dragged down the length of my neck, stopping to let his lips leave a tender kiss on the edge of my collarbone. But the cold was too much and I pulled his lips right back to mine.

 Letting him slide into me was slow, exotic and passionate. It was a breath of fresh air after years of swimming through water. It was like my lungs were filling up for the first time after I’d spent a lifetime learning how to be okay with shallow breaths. There was an irony as he rocked into me and the orgasm bubbled in my stomach. It felt refreshing.

  I was a bundle of emotions being let loose when we hit our climaxes together. This was everything I realized I wanted in life. I wanted to feel like this every single day, to kiss him on his bare chest like I was doing and watch his eyes close and reopen to look right into mine as he was engulfed in pleasure, riding out his high in between my hips. I wanted to be his today, tomorrow and the rest of his life because you didn't kiss someone and feel like this and let it slip through your hands.

   His fingers skimmed up the sides of my waist so gently it was almost not there, but I felt it and felt my heart skip over beats it should have been given. This was everything.

 ***

   My eyes fluttered open the next morning. The absence of arms around me had woken me up, I was left feeling the cold wrap itself around my body. I had been too preoccupied last night to turn the heater on.

   I had fallen asleep with Harry's arms wrapped around my waist, my back pressed against his bare chest and his breath slightly blowing my hair. It was the best sleep I had gotten all year.

   I had my back to him, but I could still hear Harry walking around in the bathroom that branches out from my room. He had pulled himself away from me about ten minutes ago and I have been laying here with the biggest smile on my face.

   It had been one of the best nights of my life. I loved him. I realized that now. I loved Harry more than just a best friend, it's been there my entire life, but it took one night to allow me to fully see it.

   I heard footsteps pad across the floor to stop at the edge of the bed. I could feel his eyes on me, burning into my bare spine.

   I rolled over to face him, letting the white sheet fall around me. I couldn't hold back the smile that broke on my face as I laid on my side and took in his appearance. His usually perfect hair was sticking to the side and the morning light was hitting his tattooed chest with ease. I let my eyes wander up from his black boxers to his unreadable green eyes that were staring at me.

   “Good morning,” I giggled, high and girlish-like. I tucked my hand underneath my head.

   Something twitched in his jaw and he tore his eyes away from me. He didn't smile back.

   “What's wrong?” I asked, sitting up on my elbow to get a better look at him, the smile slipping off my face like water off a burn.

   He eyed the bed sheet that was falling from my chest, the muscles in his jaw tense.

   “Jules, I-” his voice cracked and he refused to meet my eyes.

   I stared at him, feeling my euphoric high slowly diminish.

   “I'm going to propose to Elaine,” he said, finding every ounce of courage he could muster and holding his chin a little higher than before.

   I looked down so he wouldn't have to see my heart being torn from my chest cavity. I pulled the blankets of the bed tightly around me, feeling so utterly small and exposed.

   “I-” his voice cracked again and he took a deep breath before continuing. “I'm going to propose to her and we’re going to get married.”

   “Harry, stop-” I muttered, wrapping my arms around myself. I couldn’t listen to this.

   I saw sympathy flash in his eyes before he pushed it away. “No, Julia, I have to say this.” He never called me Julia.

   I felt my breath becoming tighter.

   “I'm going to marry Elaine and we are going to be happy and no one will ever find out about this,” he said.

   I closed my eyes, feeling the tears in the back of my throat. Stop, stop, stop. I needed him to stop talking and for me to wake up from this. Not when I had found everything I needed, not when I've come to face my feelings.

   “Please, stop. I'm begging you,” I whimpered, wanting to put my hands over my ears like child but deciding against it.

   When I opened my eyes again, he was looking out my window, breathing deeply as his eyes glistened.

   He took a deep breath. “I need to go,” he whispered.

   “Harry-”

   He shook his head. “You're only going to make it harder on yourself, Jules. Please just let me leave and we can talk about this later.” He didn't look at me as he grabbed his clothes and walked into the bathroom.

   While he was in there I took the chance to quickly push a sweatshirt and leggings over my bare body, tying the drawstring when I heard the door open again.

   I turned to look at him with expectant eyes. He couldn't leave like this.

   “I'll see you later,” he muttered.

   I ran down the hall after him, we'd been in this situation only last night. “Harry! Please you can't leave like this!” I yelled.

   “What do you want me to say, Jules!” He turned around and yelled back. I haven't seen him this mad in years. “That I regret it? That I just cheated on my fucking girlfriend when I was ring shopping for her only yesterday? No matter what I say it's going to hurt you! I'm trying to do the least painful thing for the both of us.”

   “Really?” I yelled back, my anger flaring. “Please. Telling me that you and Elaine are going to be happy is sparing my feelings? And here I was admitting to myself that I love you, Harry! And— and you're walking out!” I shut my mouth immediately. I had said too much. There, my heart was now on the floor in front of us and he could willingly push it underneath his boot.

   And he did.

   “Jules, I only love you like a friend,” he said, his voice low and dangerous and already ripping me to shreds. “And you feel the same way about me, you're just confused.” Then he turned and walked out, the door hinges still squeaking because he never fixed them.

 ...

 Harry never called me. He never came over so we could “talk about it”. He did, though, propose to Elaine. When she had posted a picture of the extravagant diamond ring on Instagram, the press went crazy. “Here,” they published in Buzzfeed articles. “we have one of the most beautiful couples of the year!”

   Or my favorite question that Elaine had answered, “What is it like to have such a gorgeous and talented man putting a ring on your finger?”

   To which she answered, “It's such a blessing! I couldn't ask for anyone else.”

   And here I was crying over the friendship that I had lost.

   I don't know what I was thinking. That he would give up this gorgeous girl who was talented and successful for someone like me from his small childhood town? Someone that had seen all his bad nights when he was bullied? The bad haircut when he was 12?

   I sighed, glancing down to the dirty sweats I was wearing. I had sulked for two days straight after he left and then moped for five days after that and I was done feeling sorry for myself. I sat up from my desk in my bedroom where I had been rereading the notes from today's lecture ten times because each time I spaced out and started to think of what Elaine and Harry's children would look like— then I would hurt again.

   I yanked my stained sweatshirt off and pulled on a long sleeved shirt and ripped dark jeans. I had been inside for too many hours this evening and I needed to get my mind off of this. I grabbed my coat and boots and walked down the steps of my apartment complex.

  The air was chilly as I rode my bike down the sidewalk, the breeze whipping through my loose hair and burning the tips of my ears.

   The coffee shop I drove up to was on the corner of the University campus, the lights already lit up on the street. I pushed my bike into the bicycle rack, wrapping the chain tight around it and walking to the entrance. Before the front door was a magazine stand with a picture of Elaine and Harry. “Harry Styles: Engaged!” it read.

   “Seriously?” I said out loud before I could stop myself. “Does everyone in the fucking world need to know?”

   “I'm not so positive, but I don't think magazines will talk back,” said a voice from behind me.

   I whipped my head around to see a man around my age, his hands on his bike and his brown laptop bag slung around his body. He had soft blonde hair and rosy cheeks, his blue eyes looking at me with an easy presence.

   I sighed and looked down. “This is embarrassing...” I said, hiding my face in my hands. “I promise this isn’t…” I waved at my appearance and the magazines. “normal for me.” I lightly laughed at the half-hearted joke.

   “Well I hope not,” he chuckled back, giving me a bright smile. “My name’s Charles by the way.” He stuck his hand out.

   I gave the smallest smile I could conjure up. “Julia,” I offered and shook his hand.

   “Do you want to get some coffee with me, Julia?” he asked, his eyes bright in the lamp lit street.

   I looked down, immediately thinking of Harry's green eyes and how this Charles guy didn't have green eyes. It had only been a week since we slept with each other and I realized I loved him, that wasn't long at all.

   It was long enough for Harry though, my subconscious provoked, he's already planning a wedding.

   It wasn't like I was going to date the guy... Just coffee.

   “Yeah... Yeah I'd like that,” I told him and walked inside behind him.

   We ended up sitting in the back with our overflowing cappuccinos, classical music playing above us and the tapping of fingers across keyboards surrounding us.

   “You go to the university?” he asked over the rim of his coffee cup.

   I nodded. “Yeah,” I replied. “going for psychology.”

   “What kind?”

   I pursed my lips. “Not sure yet...I'm thinking children's therapist. Not sure if I want to work with little ones all day or not.” I chuckled.

   “Not a children person? Come on,” he said.

   I shrugged. “I can be. I'd like to take care of someone else's rather my own.”

   “Why not?” he asked. “You'd be a lovely mum.”

   I laughed, taken off guard by his assumption. “You don't even know me.”

   He shrugged. “I'd think someone who yells at a magazine stand would be the most wonderful mother.”

   I took a sip of coffee. “I think you had a twisted childhood.”

   Charles sat back in his chair, eyeing me. “Give me you verdict then, therapist.”

   I crossed my arms over the table and narrowed my eyes. “Hmm.” I said thoughtfully, glancing down at the horoscope reading on the back of the newspaper that sat on the table. “I say you've got some baggage you have just got to let go of. Parents will be parents and there's nothing you can do,” I said sarcastically, shrugging my shoulders.

   He nodded. “Okay, okay. My turn.” He narrowed his eyes at me, tapping his chin with his finger. “You have just got to realize that no matter what they say, the little paper magazine is not responsible for what was printed onto it so don't yell at it. They’re sensitive.”

   I laughed, covering my face with my hands. This is the first time I've actually smiled this week.

   “Yeah okay,” I said through giggles.

   I stayed with him for the next hour, sipping our coffee until it was all gone before I realized it was already ten o'clock.

   “I've got an early class in the morning,” I told him glancing at my watch and standing up. “I really should go.”

   His smile slipped, but he stood up as well. “Yeah, I should really get going too... But uh-” he scratched the back of his head. “can I have your number? Maybe we can do this again sometime.”

   I wasn't sure if I wanted to date exactly, but I humored myself and typed my number into his phone. What harm would it do?

   I rode my bike down the moonlit sidewalk, coasting up to my apartment. The road was quiet and the night air was chillier than the day. It felt nice getting out finally, nice to be away from my thoughts for a couple of hours.

  I had just walked in and closed the door when my phone started ringing in my back pocket, reading it was Elaine.

 Oh shit.

 My eyebrows knitted together. Why was she calling me?

   I cleared my throat. “Hello?” I answered. There was no way she would have found out about Harry and I… was there?

   “Hi there, Julia!” she chirped through the phone.

   I closed my eyes, her happiness pained me more than seeing the newspapers. “Hi...” I replied, assuming she didn’t know.

   Something shifted on the other end, as if she were moving papers. “I just wanted to know if you were free— maybe tomorrow evening?”

   I know I for sure was free but that didn’t mean she should know. “Um... I don't know...” I muttered.

   “Oh! That's okay we can work around it,” she told me, a smile clearly in her voice. “can you get with me the next day? I know its such short notice but I wanted to talk to you about the wedding. You're one of Harry's best friends and I wanted your input.”

   I closed my eyes and rested my head against my hallway wall. I wanted to say no so badly but... I felt that with everything I had done, it was the least I could do.

   “Yeah, that's lovely,” I replied, my voice terse. “I... I can do it tomorrow evening if it's after five.” I made up a random time on the spot, so she didn't think I had lied.

   “Yay!” she squealed and I grimaced as I pulled the phone away from my ear an inch. “Great. I'll see you then. Can you meet me at Harry's?” My heart clenched, of course she would be staying with him while she was in London, she didn't have a place here. Jealousy was pulsing in my chest, making my eyes water.

   “Yeah.”

   “Okay see you then.” she sing-songed.

   “Wait—Elaine,” I said before I could stop myself.

   “Yes?”

   I lowered my voice, “Will Harry be there?” I swallowed a lump in my throat.

   She groaned. “No, he'll be with the boys. I'm sorry. I know you probably wanted to see him.”

   Yeah, something like that.

  ...

 I took an exam in class the next morning, breezing right through it. Maybe because of the fact that I had locked myself inside my room with my textbooks for one week straight. I had to do something to take my mind of off him and studying seemed to be the solution.

   When I left the class, I went back to my place, sitting on the couch and regretting my decision to go over to see Elaine at Harry's. It was possibly one of the stupidest decisions I had made yet.

   I don't know where Harry and I stood. He acted as if he liked me one moment, wanted to be more than friends, sleeps with me and then...what? Walks out saying he wanted to spare my feelings?

   Everything with him was so clouded. Almost like looking through muggy water trying to see your reflection. I didn't know who I was without him, but there was no way that I could go back to being his friend after letting him kiss me like that. After feeling the way I did.

   I straightened my hair out trying to kill time. Applying makeup hoping it would help me feel better about myself, even though looking in the mirror now I immediately started comparing every feature of mine to Elaine’s and quickly wiped it all off.

   I was hopeless. I ruined my relationship with my best friend and here I was wishing I could some how look prettier than his fiance'. I knew Harry wasn't that kind of guy and yet I felt that if I looked more like her he might rethink leaving me like that.

   It was stupid- I was so, so stupid.

   I grabbed an oversized tan sweater and black boots. The weather in London was being relentless, colder and colder each day with a steady drizzle. It didn't help my sinking mood.

   I checked my phone yet again, hoping somehow that Harry— maybe— would have wanted to talk. There were no messages and I ignored the sinking into my stomach that my heart did.

   Grabbing a black knit scarf, I called a taxi and walked down the steps. Feeling the chill hug me immediately like it had been awaiting my arrival.

   Harry lived on the opposite of town, where all of the nice condos and penthouses were. He owned a penthouse in a skyrocketing building—they had doorman and everything.

  “Julia how are you?” said the receptionist, recognizing me from the numerous times I came to visit. Harry had a list of people that were allowed to come up immediately without a buzz from downstairs, but most had to go through clearance. There were so many times when fans would attempt to sneak in.

   “I'm good, may I go up?” I asked and walked toward the elevator when she nodded.

   I honestly didn't want to see her. I didn't want to think of Elaine planning her dream wedding with Harry, I didn't want to think of him touching her or kissing her- or even telling her he loved her. It wasn't fair that he did this to me- he made me feel this way.

   I smiled at her, giving her a strange obligatory hug and rolling my eyes when she kissed both of my cheeks. She smelled like vanilla cupcakes and expensive perfume. Following the back of her dark curly hair, I walked through the large corridor that opened up into modern living room.

   Harry at first had a personal decorator, but when they didn’t understand his vibe, he just stuck with a sleek black leather sectional couch and chic glass coffee tables, vinyl albums cluttering the top of them. It all glistened sitting on sparkling white tiled floor that stretched out into different parts of the apartment.

   Elaine took a seat on the couch, folding her legs neatly and smoothing out her dress. From the coffee table she pulled out a spiral notebook with pink ink tattooed in the inside.

   “Thank you so much for coming, I've been so busy this week with wedding arrangements,” she sighed, trying to sound exhausted.

   I gave her a smile and even though she was friendly with me I could feel the awkward tension in the air that wasn't completely invisible. We had never really said more to one another but hello and a few things about Harry, I knew deep down that the only reason I was here was for him- not because she particularly cared for my opinion.

   Sitting across from her, I asked, “So soon?” lifting my eyebrows.

   She gave a laugh that hit my ears like breaking china glasses. “Yeah, I've waited two years for this, I'm not wasting anymore time.”

   “I bet...” I mumbled.

   “Well,” she continued. “I've planned the engagement party for next week and a few of our close friends and family members are all being asked to make a little speech, you know, about Harry and I.” Her eyes lit up with those words.

   My insides twisted, thinking of Harry and his husky voice, “What are you doing to me, Jules?”

   I sighed. “And you want me to make one- a speech?” I wasn't sure how he would really feel about this, we weren't exactly at a good place.

   She nodded. “For Harry. I know he would really want it.”

   I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Are you sure...? I mean, wouldn't he rather one of the boys or something?” I asked referring to his band members whom he was exceptionally close with.

   “Well of course Jeff was planning on it. I just thought since you guys were childhood friends and all,” she gave me sympathetic look, laying huge emphasis on childhood as if it minimizedr hv my role in his life.

   I snapped my eyes back up to hers. “Well we are best friends... So I guess I will.” I gave her a terse smile.

   I could see the minute twitch in her lip when she gave me a tight smile in reply.

   There was the sound of a door shutting from the hallway and heavy footsteps drumming from the corridor. My heart immediately twisted and my breathing sped up. She said he wasn't supposed to be here...

   I looked up to see Harry stride through the doorway, his head had been down, typing on his phone, sunglasses loosely pulling his hair back. He stopped to greet Elaine, his lips frozen when his gaze fell onto me and his mouth in a silent “o”. Quickly, his eyes flickered from me to her and a sudden panic lit up his face.

   I swallowed a lump in my throat from seeing him since... You know.

   “Harry!” Elaine squealed, overly excited as she jumped up from the couch. “I didn't expect you until late.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss-

   I looked away, feeling heat light up my cheeks. This was the worst form of torture.

   “I forgot to tell you that Julia was going to stop by,” she told him, her arm slinking its way around his waist.

   “Yeah.” His voice sounded a bit too high pitched. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, you sure didn't tell me.”

   I stood up from the couch, grabbing my bag that was on the floor. “Wow,” I said—maybe —a bit too dramatically and glancing at my watch that was on my wrist- the one that still hasn't been updated since last Christmas, I just thought it looked cute- and giving a shake of my head. “look at the time. I really should go, I have some plans.”

   Something sparked in Harry's eyes, he could tell I was lying, he always could.

   Elaine gave me her best pouting look, her pink bottom lip stuck out as she said, “But you just got here.”

   “I know...” I gave fake sympathy. “And really I would just love to talk more about the wedding, but...” I pointed my finger towards the door and shrugged. There was no way they could be buying this.

   She nodded. “Yeah, I understand.” She tilted her head to rest on Harry's chest and I took a deep breath before walking toward the corridor.

   “Well I guess I'll see you guys later...” I said, walking around them and feeling my chest tighten.

   “Bye, Julia! I'll see you at the party,” she called.

   Yeah, maybe, I wanted to reply.

   I shut the door behind me, leaning on the wall outside and steadying my breathing. If I can get through this then the wedding should be a breeze. I cringed at the thought and started walking toward the elevator.

   “Jules!” an all too familiar voice called from behind me, giving me butterflies.

   I stopped in my tracks, thinking that if I turned around now it might just be my imagination.

   “Jules, wait!” Harry called again and I spun on my heel to see him jogging down the hall toward me. What catastrophic event put us in this place? Put us where we always seem to find ourselves chasing one another towards the door?

   But what did he really have to say to me? He wouldn't even look at me in there. He just left me facing the slammed door in my apartment, tears starting to slip over my face. And yet he didn't call me... Didn't want to work things out.

   “Let me drive you,” he breathed. “it'd be faster, you don't want to take a taxi.”

   “Now you care?” I snapped, letting venom taint my words.

   He flinched. “I never stopped caring-”

   “Stop,” I told him, feeling my heart want to leap for him. I couldn't let it, I couldn't fall for this again. “I'm tired of going back and forth with you.”

   He let out a long breath, closing his eyes. “Just... just let me drive you. Elaine already suspects something is up,” he whispered.

   So this was about Elaine's perfect wellbeing. Not mine—it never was.

   I didn't reply, but followed him downstairs to his awaiting car. It took everything within me not to run away when the door shut behind me. I couldn't stand being in this close of a premises with Harry with so many unsaid words floating in the tight space between us. They would choke me.

   For the first two solid minutes nothing was spoken. The silence was thick, wrapping its hands around my throat, skimming my pulse. In a twisted irony, I realized there was so much to say and then there was nothing to say at all. Where did we stand with one another? Could we fall back into the pattern of being just friends again? Were either one of us capable of that? I could feel all of the questions drowning me.

   Harry took a deep breath. “Listen, I know I didn't call you-”

   “No you didn't,” I interrupted.

   “Jules!” he yelled. “Just let me talk for a fucking minute!”

   I flinched, staring straight out of the window, refusing to look at him.

   “I don't know what to do here either, okay?” His voice was still raised and hoarse. “I- I don't know what to say to make things better. I have nothing.”

   I sighed, leaning my head against the back of the seat. There was a piece of me twisting and writhing inside wanting to go and comfort him. It didn't want to see him so distressed. He was your best friend, remember? It told me. Do what friends do. But I didn't have the audacity to admit to that part of me that the friend bridge was slowly being burned and I was left standing on the other side wondering which way to go next.

   “Then why did you-” I stopped, swallowing the weakening tears. “Why did you kiss me then-“ my voice cracked “-why would you put that kind of thoughts into my head?”

   “Don't act like it was just me,” he replied, his voice low. Dangerous.

   “No, it wasn't,” I told him. “but you still did it. Why didn't you stop? Why didn't you pull away and give me an excuse, Harry? Because that would hurt a whole lot less than this.” I gave a humorless laugh.

   A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I don't want to hurt you,” he whispered.

   I looked out the window. “I know.”

   I did know he didn't want to hurt me, but it still doesn't erase the fact that he’s doing it right now. It didn't obliterate the evidence of arson to our bridge, it didn't kill the silence squeezing my neck, and it sure didn't make the pain go away.

   The car pulled to a stop in front of my apartment building. How many times had we sat here in this spot together, laughing or joking? So much being built up to just be torn down.

   “Listen, Jules,” he muttered. “I love you— I really do. But there's nothing for us. There's nothing to fall back on. Elaine is my future.”

   I flinched. “So, what?” I asked him. “You want to erase the past twenty two years of our lives?”

   He held his head back, looking at the roof of his car. “I know what I want to do,” he whispered. “I just don't know what I can do.”

   For the sake of my sanity, I forced myself not to question him or read too far into his words. That's what got us into this mess. I ran my hands down my face, feeling the fatigue of being around him for too long.

   “Okay,” I breathed. I didn't hesitate to open up the door and grab my bag. “Thanks for the ride,” I mumbled.

   He didn't say anything, just sat in his car until I climbed the stairs and shut the door behind me. Glancing out the window, I could see him still in the driver's seat, his eyes intensely focused on the wall of the apartment building. He slid his sunglasses on—despite the setting sun— and drove away.

 ...

   Harry’s POV

   I hit the boxing bag again, my fist ramming into it with more force than I usually put forth, followed by my other hand. I punched it until my face was dripping sweat, until my arms were pulsing until my body was about to collapse. I needed this, I needed to collapse. If I collapsed then there would be no more pain, this knife in my throat would diminish for a little while longer—long enough for me to breathe.

   “Whoa, Harry, let's take a break, yeah?” Jeff said from behind the punching bag, he had been holding it for me for the last hour.

   “No,” I panted, pulling more strength from somewhere unknown. I hit the bag again, Jeff taking a step back from the force. “I… just… need... a few more minutes,” I gasped through my aching lungs.

   I could feel his quizzical gaze on me, the wondering eyes that knew too much.

   “No,” he said with finality, shaking his head and grabbing my shoulder to pull me back. “You're done for today. You're about to overdo yourself.”

   I grabbed the bag, my hands on either side and rested my sweaty forehead against the red material. “That's the point,” I muttered so low I wasn’t sure if he’d hear. I didn’t care whether or not he did.

   The morning that I had walked out of Julia's apartment I had spent the rest of the day at Jeff's trying to ease my guilty conscious. I was so confused, I didn't know what to do. The things I felt for Julia were something I've never experienced before, something wild and exotic and rare— but it felt so natural. I had been a wimp, though. I had gotten terrified that maybe I liked the way it felt to hold her in her sleep or to kiss her collarbone. I liked it more than psychically, I wanted her that night emotionally. I wanted every piece of her soul to be in the palm of my hand. And she has placed it there. She had given it to me— and I had walked out like a scared child.

   I wiped the towel across my forehead and around my neck, resting it on my bare shoulder.

   The other thing was Elaine. I loved her. I really did. She was safe, someone that I knew wouldn't throw unexpected things at me, someone I trusted to keep me in familiar territory. I didn't like surprises and when it came to me, she held none.

   So I had gotten scared and did the only thing I knew to do. I proposed to Elaine. Thinking that if I was engaged the thoughts of having a relationship with Jules would be pushed out of my mind. That I would see more clearly and realize that I didn't actually have feelings for her, it was just pre-wedding jitters.

   “What happened yesterday?” Jeff asked, slipping a hand through his dark brown hair. I had told him everything about Jules and me—well, leaving out the details— and he didn't judge me or scold me, but had insisted on me getting my shit together more than once.

   “Apparently, Elaine invited Julia over to talk about wedding details and I came home a little too early,” I mumbled, squeezing water into my mouth.

   His eyes widened. “That's…awkward.” He grimaced. “Did Julia say anything to her?”

   I shook my head. “I had thought she would have, but now I know she would never do that. She didn't look so happy to be there though.”

   “Can't blame her.”

   My heart leaped at the thought of Julia, immediately replaced with the familiar pain that seemed to follow recently. Sitting down on the gym bench, I laid my head against the wall, closing my eyes.

   “So are you two... what— like friends now?” Jeff asked, sitting next to me.

   I shrugged. I honestly didn't know. “We can't even act civil towards one another.”

   “But do you want to be is the question—civil that is,” he pressed.

   Did I want to act civil towards her? No. No, I wanted things to go back to the same way it was before. “I just want things to be normal,” I mumbled.

   He turned his head toward me. “Can they be though?”

   I snorted. “No, not after that night,” I said. “I can't even fucking look at her without thinking she looks beautiful.” I put my head in my hands. “What the fuck is wrong with me? I'm engaged,” I groaned.

 I opened an eye to see him silently chuckling at me.

   “What have you gotten yourself into?” he laughed.

   Even though there was no humor in it I began to laugh with him, feeling the tight muscles of my body relax.

   “I don't even know,” I told him. And the truth was… I really didn't.

  …

Julia’s POV

I sat in class, listening to the lecture and jotting down every other word. My mind anywhere but English. I had been so upset with Harry after I had walked into my apartment. He was so confusing, so infuriating. I had no idea where we stood with one another.

It also didn't help that I had felt queasy all morning. The smell of my morning coffee making me gag before I poured it down the sink. I couldn't even look at my cereal.

Putting my head in my hands, I rubbed my temples gently, trying to relieve the pressure. I had two more classes to go and there was no way I was going to make it.

When the professor dismissed us, I grabbed my bag and walked toward the student center, hoping to grab a quick coffee before my next lecture. Maybe the coffee I used this morning was bad and I needed to buy some more. I've never gotten so nauseous over that before.

The brand they used here at Uni wasn't as gross as the one back at my place, but still made my stomach churn. I chose to ignore it, taking a sip and swallowing it back before my body could protest. I needed the caffeine this morning or there was no hope for the rest of the day.

Some strange way, I made it the rest of the day. Arriving at my place just in time for my body to collapse on the couch and my eyes to slip close. These nights I had barely gotten any sleep, my thoughts all over the place but always coming back to Harry and his green eyes.

My phone started to ring on the coffee table, and I groaned as I was pulled away from the peaceful sleep.

“Hello?” I mumbled.

“Julia, hey!” Lauren, my friend from college, greeted through the speaker. “A few of us are going out tonight, I was wondering if you wanted to join.”

I sighed. “No, not tonight-”

“But please,” she continued. “we haven't seen you in like— what?—two weeks? You've been cooped up in that apartment acting like you're going through a break-up or something.”

“Something like that,” I muttered, but we never were even together.

“I don't care what excuse it is,” she brushed off and I could practically see her standing with her hand on her hip. “you're joining us tonight whether you like or not and you are going to put on a nice dress or I'm coming to drag you here.”

I tried to decline a couple more times after that—each unsuccessful— and finally ended up in my closet staring at the row of dresses I had. As much as I didn't feel good—emotionally as well as psychically— a night with girls and feeling pretty felt like a necessity at the moment.

I picked out a black dress, pulling it over my aching body. It was thin silk dress, the back dipping dangerously low, with thin straps holding it up. Pulling my dark hair from its ponytail, I let it fall down my back in its natural dark waves. I couldn't help but think of Harry saying how much he liked it loose around me.

After strapping on a pair of black heels, I mentally scolded myself before walking out the door to the awaiting car.

“That's the Julia I know!” I heard Lauren call from the driver's seat, her blonde hair placed in a messy bun on the top of her head. “You beautiful party animal.” She winked.

I rolled my eyes.

“Where have you been? I feel like I haven't seen you in such a long time,” Jessica said, turning around in her seat to look at me. She was another friend of mine, the one always pressing us to go to parties and always attaching herself immediately to a different guy every night.

I knotted my hands in my lap. “Home,” I said. “I haven't exactly felt like going out much.”

Lauren's eyes snapped to mine in the mirror. “Your voice sounds strange. Why is that?” she demanded.

I shrugged. “Really I'm fine—”

“Is it a man?” Jessica asked.

I didn't know how to answer that. “I-”

“It is!” she declared. “Julia has feelings!”

“Wooooo!” Lauren cheered, jumping up and down in the seat before taking a turn.

I put my face in my hands. “No- really-”

“Is it that Harry lad? The hot one from One Direction that's your boy toy?” Jessica wiggled her eyebrows.

“He is not my boy toy,” I said through my teeth. “And he’s solo now.”

“But he is hot though.” Jessica smirked. “Please, feel free to give him my number if you're not going to go for it.”

Lauren laughed. “Jess, he's engaged anyways, it was all over Twitter last week.”

She shrugged. “Well then give my number to that Horan lad, he looks a fun time- or any of the boys, I don't want to be chosey.”

I rolled my eyes, not wanting to explain that he wasn’t in the band anymore.

Lauren drove us to a night club in the center of London. We'd been here a couple of times, I never was one for partying though.

Before getting out of the car, Jessica leaned over, pushing her breasts up until they were ready to over flow from her tight shimmering dress.

“Are you wearing a push up, Julia?” she asked me, adjusting her newly dyed deep red hair.

I looked at my neck line. “No, just my regular bra...”

She observed my chest, tapping her finger to her chin. “Your boobs are getting bigger. Lauren, aren't her boobs getting bigger?” Jessica looked to Lauren who was applying red lipstick in the mirror.

I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling shy.

Lauren turned to face me, giving me an approving nod. “They really are, they look nice. It's not fair.”

“Can we stop talking about my boob size now?” I asked, pushing myself out of the vehicle and adjusting my dress around the chest, hoping it didn't look as tight as they made it out to be.

Jessica walked around to my side of the car, placing her hands on her hips. “We are just admiring your tits,” she laughed.

Lauren covered her mouth as she snorted with laughter. “Oh, girl, your tits look so nice today,” she mocked between giggles and playfully tossed her hair.

I gave in and laughed with them. “Have you lot already been drinking yet?”

Jessica looked to Lauren. “Maybe just a few before we left...”

I rolled my eyes and continued to walk in through the doors, out of the crowded parking lot. The music was already blaring from the live band and Jessica immediately disappeared following a dark-haired man. Lauren and I ignored it, taking a seat at the bar.

“Want a drink?” she asked me.

I shook my head. “No, I haven't felt very well today.”

She brought a glass to her lips. “A drink will make it better,” she hummed before taking a sip.

“No, I don't really think so,” I replied, looking for Jessica in the crowd.

When Lauren went to dance, I crossed my legs and put my chin in my hand, feeling anything but entertained as I listened to the music. I honestly didn't want to be here right now, surrounded by drunk people. I couldn't remember why I came in the first place.

“You look bored,” said a voice from behind me.

I turned around to see Harry’s manager and friend, Jeff, standing with his elbows on the bar, his forearms crossed in front of him. He had his dark hair pushed up messily and a button-up shirt.

I sighed. “I don't exactly want to be here right now.” I gave him a weak smile.

His eyes slightly narrowed at me, almost as if analyzing my demeanor. “Rough week?” he asked.

I snorted. “Yeah, something like that,” I mumbled, wishing I would have taken Lauren up on that drink offer.

He nodded. “Have you talked to Harry lately?”

My hand twitched as I went to brush a hair away from my forehead. My heart pulsing too fast at the sound of his name.

I pressed my lips together. “Yeah,” I told him, my jaw clenched as I looked down to my lap. “yeah- I uh- talked to him a couple of days ago.”

“So you know they moved the wedding to March?”

My eyes stung a bit as I swallowed the rock in my throat. “March?” I asked, my voice sounding smaller and weaker. “As in four months from now?”

I felt his eyes studying me, the hazel color taking notice of my deep breaths and white knuckles. “Yeah, a rush isn't it?”

I inhaled through my nose, filling my lungs until they were so full they might burst and my heartbeat was steadier. “Yeah, such a rush,” I muttered.

He tilted his head, observing my appearance. “But you don't want them to get married,” he said, his voice lower as if he didn't want to be overheard as his sentence became more of a statement than a question.

I snapped my head toward him. “What are you saying?”

He cocked his eyebrow, lifting his drink to me and taking a long sip before setting it down on the glass countertop. “It's okay,” he muttered. “I don't actually either.”

I stared at him, not sure exactly what to think. Jeff was Harry's closest mate, he always told me about him and the many times I had hung out with his band, he had been one of the nicest.

“Don't stare at me like that,” he said calmly, looking at me from the corner of his eye. Lowering his voice, he whispered, “I know you two slept together.”

I sat up straighter, looking around nervously for anyone that might have been eavesdropping. A few eyes wondered to Jeff, recognizing the boy from magazines or television but none particularly paid much attention to us.

“Julia,” he whispered. “relax. Harry told me.”

He said that as if it made my beating heart slow down at all. It was worse actually, the thought that Harry would have shared that night with-

Jeff cursed, cutting off my thoughts. “No, no, no not like that at all,” he hurried to correct himself after seeing my white face. “ I meant, he just told me what happened. He had needed someone to talk to.”

I put my face in my hands, the knife burying itself deep into my chest. I screwed up. I hadn't been there for Harry when he needed me.

“He's probably ecstatic to get this wedding done then, yeah?” I mumbled bitterly. “Everything he can do just to push me further out of the picture...”

I slapped my hand on the bar. “Can I get a drink over here, please?” I called to the bartender, giving up on my previous decision to have a calm night.

Jeff pushed the glass away from before I could grab it. “No, she doesn't need it,” he told the man who stood in front of us confused.

“I ordered it actually-” I started stubbornly.

“You are not going to bitter drink, okay?” he scolded me, my mouth snapping shut with shock. He grabbed the glass and handed it toward the waiter. “Here you can take this back, charge it to my tab if you need too.”

I swallowed back angry tears—I had been way too emotional lately.

Jeff pulled himself into the chair next to me, turning it to face me. “Drinking is not the solution, alright?”

I didn't respond, feeling like a child.

“Both of you are being so fucking stupid,” he muttered, exhaustedly dragging his hand down his face and the stubble that resided there.

“What are you even talking about?” I snapped.

“He doesn't want you out of the picture, Julia,” he said with equal force. “and neither do you. I don't know why he's being so idiotic and trying to hurry the wedding up. He's trying to fill this void by hoping if he marries Elaine it will go away.”

I sighed. “I'm not following,” I mumbled, feeling tired already by this conversation.

He threw his head back, letting out a groan. “I don't want him to-” He stopped and looked around, leaning closer and lowering his voice. “I don't want him to marry her either, okay? Unlike everyone and their fucking mom, I can tell he isn't exactly happy with her. She's not my favorite person in the world as well.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, pursing his lips and debating whether or not to tell me.

“No,” I said, seeing the hesitant look on his. “you're going to tell me.”

He bit his lip. “I just get this weird feeling about her, you know? She seems way too giddy all the time. She really flirts with the other band members and I a lot. She's quite annoying.”

I couldn't help it. A smile formed on my lips at his words. At least I wasn't the only one.

“You're smiling,” he observed, the corners of his mouth lifting a bit too.

I laughed. “And here I was thinking I was delusional,” I said.

We both laughed together. It felt so good to talk to someone who actually knew the situation. I would have never guessed that the person would have been Jeff though.

In the middle of my laughing, I felt my stomach churn again. The familiar nausea taking over and my face becoming cold and white. I pressed my hand to my mouth.

“Are you okay?” Jeff asked.

I shook my head. “I'll be right back, give me a second.” And I got up to walk to the bathroom, shutting the stall door just in time for my body to push up what little I had eaten today.

I groaned as I rested my head against the cool bathroom wall, my face felt clammy.

When I was fairly certain that I was done throwing up, I washed my mouth out with water and pressed a damp paper towel against my forehead. I must have caught a stomach bug.

Walking out, Jeff pushed himself away from the wall outside of the women's bathroom. He must have followed me back here.

“You okay?” he asked, eyeing the paper towel I had against my face and the pale complexion of my skin.

I took a deep breath. “Yeah... I just haven't felt very well today.”

His eyes narrowed. “Have you been drinking?”

“No!” I mumbled. “I haven't drank anything at all today actually... besides the coffee this morning, but the smell was horrible—I think it was expired.”

He nodded, his eyes still studying me.

Wanting to move out of his quizzical gaze, I started walking back into the main area. “I'm going to head home anyways,” I told him. “I have had enough for tonight.”

“Here, let me drive you,” he replied and I didn't object as his hand met the small of my back and ushered me through the wasted, dancing crowd.

Inside his car, I rested my head against the cool leather seat, taking deep breaths and encouraging myself to not puke in his nice vehicle.

Jeff turned the air condition on high, despite the dropping December temperatures outside.

When we pulled out onto the main road, his phone started to ring through the Bluetooth of his speaker.

“Hello?” he answered, after pressing a button on the steering wheel.

“Hey, lad... It's me, you busy?” a familiar voice said through the car speakers, sending my ears perking up.

Jeff eyed me, asking almost for my permission.

I gulped and nodded.

“Um not particularly at the moment...” he said, pushing his hand through his hair as the car felt smaller and smaller.

Harry sighed on the other end. “I'm just... I don't know. Confused, I guess,” he muttered.

“About what?” Jeff asked.

“Everything,” he gave a humorless laugh. “Elaine is going all out for the wedding and I don't even feel like I'm really into it-”

“Pull over,” I told Jeff.

He looked over to me, his eyebrows drawn together.

“Pull the fucking car over,” I whispered.

And he did, right in time for me to lean out of the door and throw up on the ground.

Jeff cursed. “Um, hold- hold on for a second, Harry,” he said, leaning over the console to pull my hair out of my face.

“Who's in the car with you...?” Harry asked, clear suspicion leaking through the car speakers. He knew my voice from anywhere.

“Hold on a second,” Jeff shouted to him, grabbing a napkin from the drawer and handing it to me. “Are you okay now?” he asked me.

I closed the door, wiping me face. “Yeah, thank you,” I said.

Harry was silent for a beat before—“Am I on speaker?” he demanded.

“Here's some water,” Jeff mumbled, passing me a bottle that I used to rinse my mouth out.

“I was driving,” Jeff replied back to him.

“And... and—Julia,” his voice cracked. “she's with you?”

I took a deep breath, not knowing if I was still nauseous from my stomach bug or from Harry saying my name like it caused him pain.

“Yeah, I was just taking her home, man,” he said, his voice lower as he eyed me from the driver's seat. “She wasn't feeling well.”

He was silent, his steady breathing the only sound in the car. I wish I could see him right now.

“Is she okay?” he whispered.

A muscle in Jeff's jaw twitched as he watched me. “Harry,” he breathed. “if you want to know how she is doing, man, pick up the fucking phone and call her.”

And then he hung up.

“You didn't have to be such a dick to him,” I whispered.

Jeff began driving again, following the directions that I had given him. “You know him better than I do. You know the only way he would have listened is if I was a dick to him,” he said.

I sighed. I did know. But it didn't hurt any less.

Jeff stopped in front of my apartment, the engine purring in the silence.

“Thank you—for taking me home...” I told him, reaching to open the door. “and for... talking with me.” I felt so small and uncomfortable discussing this with Jeff. “I really needed it.”

He nodded. “Harry is one of my best mates,” he said. “and you've done a lot for him. I 'm trying to stop him from throwing away the best thing he's ever had.”

I sucked in a breath, too shocked to reply.

“And— one more thing, Julia.” His voice was only a whisper now, pushing its way through the atoms separating us to me.

“Yeah?”

“People, like you and Harry—end up together.” He leaned his head back against the seat. “It's inevitable. Somehow, someway, something is going to happen and the universe will fall back into place and the two of you will be together.”

I closed my eyes. “Don't say things like that.”

 part three

A/N: I’m not gonna beg like Justin Bieber, but if you like this pls like/reblog or send me an anon. I wrote this story when I was 15 and I’m 21 now so I’ll only keep uploading it as long as I have people interested :)

hope you liked the angst!!

join my taglist!

[megan-is-mia]

One Night Only Chapter 1 (Poly! Giomis w/ Artist! Reader)

(more reposting, reader’s nickname is ember)

((the gangbangers names are a reference to the three stooges))

“This is nice” (Y/n) said to herself laying on the floor with her sketchbook open and a pencil in her hand. Her phone was unlocked and was displaying a picture she’d taken that morning. There was a light knock on her apartment door that was then followed by the handle being turned as her boyfriends let themselves in.

“Shit it’s been a long day” Mista groaned kicking off his shoes and tossing his hat and coat on the couch before sinking into the floor next to (Y/n).

“Hang your coat up Guido, at least be a courteous guest,” Giorno said clicking his tongue, he hung his coat up and put his shoes away before joining his lovers on the rug in front of the couch.

“Nope, too tired” Mista replied slumping back and using the couch as a back pillow as he stared up at the ceiling. (Y/n) let out a chuckle as she blew a kiss at her boys before returning her attention to the sketchbook.

“Whatcha drawing?” Giorno said leaning down to squint at the few lines of graphite already on the paper before glancing at (Y/n)’s phone for context.

“Don’t look! It’s not ready yet!” (Y/n) protested trying to swat him away. “It’s supposed to be a sketch of the Veiled Christ, but I’m having some trouble with drawing the fabric,” she said glumly. Giorno let out a soft hum before pressing a kiss to the top of (Y/n)’s ear.

“I think it looks nice,” he said with an affectionate purr that was answered with a light punch from the girl who’s face had turned pink with a blush.

“Oh shush, how would you know? You say that about everything I draw, you know flattery will only get you so far” (Y/n) mumbled with a serious expression despite her flushed cheeks.

“Oh? How far will flattery get him, Ember?” Mista chimed in his eyes dropping down as the pet name left his lips and he grinned at (Y/n). She rolled her eyes and sat up closing the sketchbook with a sigh.

“Maybe a kiss or two. Anyways it doesn’t look like I’m not gonna get any work done until you idiots go home” (Y/n) said getting to her feet and putting her sketchbook away in her bedroom. When she returned, Mista was still sitting on the floor but Giorno had moved into the kitchen and started preparing dinner in her brief absence.

“Since I told you what I did today, mind filling me in on what shenanigans my gangstars got up to since I last saw you?” (Y/n) said sitting down next to Guido and leaning against his shoulder. (Y/n) had learned that Giorno and Mista were in the mob very early into their relationship.

To be honest, it kinda bothered her, but she understood why they did what they did. Between the choice of having them in the mob and having them behind bars for their crimes... she’d always chose the former without a second thought. (Y/n)’s only rule was that they were as honest as possible with her about what they did as mobsters.

“Nothing much ran from the cops, shot some drug dealers. You know the usual” Giorno provided nonchalantly as he mixed something in a pot as a pleasant aroma began to permeate the apartment. When he was finished cooking he called (Y/n) and Mista to the table so they could eat.

Halfway through the meal (Y/n)’s phone began ringing loudly. With a bemused expression, she rose from her seat to answer it, walking to her bedroom so she could have some privacy.

Giorno and Mista exchanged looks, shrugged before continuing eating. They stopped eating upon hearing a mournful cry from the bedroom. Rushing to the door and peeking in to watch (Y/n) pacing back and forth with the phone pressed to her ear.

“Summer’s in the emergency room? She was shot ten times? In the head and spine?! The surgery’s been going on for two hours? Is she gonna be okay?! Yes, I want to see her! Yes, I’ll be over soon!” (Y/n) said before hanging up and shoving her phone in her pocket.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, lock the door when you leave. I love you!” she said throwing a passing glance at the boys as she went. Running as fast as she could down the street before hailing a taxi to speed her the rest of the way to the hospital.

Bursting out of the cab and sprinting to the front desk, (Y/n) slammed her hands down on the counter in front of the receptionist. The woman to her credit did not jump and instead looked calmly up at the frantic girl.

“Hello, how can I help you?” The woman said smoothly in a tone meant to put others at ease. But (Y/n) was not at ease as she panted furiously trying to catch her breath so she could speak.

“Which room is Summer O’Reilly in?! I’m her sister (Y/n), O’Reilly! I want to see her as soon as possible!” She babbled out still a bit out of breath. The receptionist, with a smile still on her face, looked down at her computer screen and typed something in. A few moments later she looked back up to address (Y/n).

“Officer O’Reilly is still in surgery but I can direct you to which room she will be taken too once the operation is complete,” the lady said helpfully and wrote down on a sticky note the location of Summer’s room before handing it to (Y/n) who uttered a quick thank you as she rushed towards the elevator.

Waiting for and then riding the elevator felt like an eternity to the girl who spun around impatiently. Once on the correct floor, she dashed to the room to find it mostly empty. The only person present was Summer’s patrol partner Officer Arabella Aramina who was slumped in a chair by the window.

“Well, it’s about time you showed up kiddo” Arabella said barely gracing (Y/n) with a glance. She kept her face neutral even though on the inside she was seething with rage and sorrow.

“The hospital just called me but they didn’t tell me much. Only they Summer had been admitted to the emergency room with multiple gunshot wounds” (Y/n) said dragging a chair over to Arabella and sitting beside her.

“Yeah gunshot wounds that’s putting it lightly,” Arabella said with a derisive snort. “It was more like those motherfuckers were trying to turn her into human Swiss cheese” she added with a growl. (Y/n) gave her an inquisitive look and she sighed deeply.

“Let me give you the facts before anybody tries to feed you shit. It wasn't supposed to get nasty yah hear. Me and Summer were scoping out a drug deal undercover. We were gonna find the perps and arrest them no pain no foul. But then a third party decided to show up. Turns out the deal was just a set up by Passione to clear out the bottom feeder drug dealers on their turf” Arabella explained her eyes darting around the room trying to avoid making eye contact with (Y/n).

“It turned into a firefight and Passione’s men slaughtered the dealers in a matter of minutes. I managed to get to cover but Summer didn’t and took the worst of it. Weird thing is they quit shooting after her sunglasses came off. And one of the thugs said something about them getting killed for injuring the Don’s member or whatever” Arabella said finishing her story and leaning back in her chair.

“What do you mean the Don’s member? And were they talking about Summer?” (Y/n) said more questions forming in her mind as she proceeded the details of Arabella’s story.

“I don’t fucking know, I couldn’t tell what they were saying! I was hiding in an alleyway. Though if I had to make a guess, I think they mistook Summer for a member of their Don’s inner circle” Arabella said with a sigh. (Y/n) felt her stomach twist into knots as she slumped down into the chair.

About half-an-hour later Summer was rolled in on a gurney and transferred into the hospital bed. Leaping out of her chair (Y/n) was by her sister’s side in an instant hugging the older girl lightly and crying.

“Sumi! You’re okay!” (Y/n) babbled using her sister’s childhood nickname as she pressed her head against the other’s chest. Summer raised a gauze-covered head to weakly ruffle the younger girl’s hair.

“Yup I’m okay, sorry for worrying you Emby” Summer said using her childhood nickname for her little sister in an effort to calm her. It didn’t help much as (Y/n) continued to sob against Summer’s hospital gown. The sisters remained embraced for a long time neither speaking until Summer began drifting off from all the drugs still in her system.

(Y/n) didn’t want to leave her sister’s side but the night-nurse kicked her out after about an hour. She began walking home to jittery to call a cab, her eyes darted mistrustfully down every alleyway she passed as she balled her hands in her pockets.

“Well, well, well what do have here? A little lamb wandering out in the night all by her lonesome” a creepy man’s voice said as he sidled up to (Y/n). His grin was rotten and half the teeth were missing from his mouth.

“She’s a real cutie ain’t she? What’s a fine young thing like you doing with a frown on your face?” Another man had snuck up on (Y/n)’s other side also grin unpleasantly. He had more teeth than his friend but his face covered in scars and bumps from brawls.

(Y/n) kept her head down trying to ignore the men, she even tried to walk faster to shake them off but they easily kept pace. The men (Scars and Smiles is what she decided to call them in her mind) were soon joined by a third man who walked directly behind the girl.

“Did your boyfriend dump you, sweetheart? I could be your new boyfriend sweet cheeks” this third man said, (Y/n) glanced over her shoulder and shivered at the sight of the man’s heavily tattooed skin.

“S-s-sorry, I’m not interested. I already have boyfriends, but thank you for the gracious offer” (Y/n) said her stomach flipping like a fish. She quickly dubbed the third man Tattoos as she tried to get away.

“Aww the little lamb is so flustered she can’t even think straight” Smiles groping (Y/n)’s ass and chuckling cruelly when she let out a squeak.

“I bet that pretty mouth of hers can make lots of other cute noises when it’s wrapped around my cock” Scars growled and smacked his lips loudly before grabbing at (Y/n)’s ass as well. Unlike Smiles though, he didn’t let go and continually squeezed the girl’s rump like a stress ball. Without thinking (Y/n) swung her fist and slugged him in the jaw. Scars released her ass to grab his face while Smiles and Tattoos stared dumbly.

Not wasting a moment (Y/n) began running as fast as she could. If she could make to her street she’d probably be safe but that was eight blocks away and the men chasing her were closing distance fast.

One of them took the lead and threw himself on top of her slamming her to the cement. Her hands were torn up by the friction of the concrete against her flesh and her nose was broken on impact.

“Gotta now you little bitch” Tattoos hissed and leaned down to lick (Y/n)’s neck having been the one to tackle her as Smiles and Scars finally caught up.

(Y/n)’s head had hit the ground pretty hard so it was understandable that her ears might be ringing a bit and her vision might be cloudy as a black limo pulled up to the curb beside her.

“Well, what do we have here? If I’m not mistaken it’s Liario, Elmo and Ricci~” A familiar voice said as the limo window was rolled down. “Weren’t you three already warned that the Don won’t tolerate this behavior anymore” the man in the limo went on in a bored tone.

“Help me! Please!” (Y/n) croaked spitting out blood that had trickled down from her nose into her mouth.

“Shut up bitch the men are talking!” Tattoos snarled slamming (Y/n)’s head back down against the ground. She let out a howl of pain which was answered by the sound of a gun being cocked.

“Please don’t shoot me! I don’t wanna die! Please, my sister’s in the hospital!” (Y/n) blathered the blood running into her eyes now as the limo door was opened and the man inside stepped out before slamming the door shut behind him.

“I told you to be quiet!” Tattoos roared bringing his hand back to strike (Y/n). She squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation of the hit but when it didn’t come her eyes popped open in curiosity. The man from the limo had grabbed Tattoo’s wrist mid-swing before pressing a pistol against his temple with a grim expression.

“I wouldn’t hit her again if I was you Ricci” the man from the limo said coldly. “I really wouldn’t, do you know how many times you just insulted the Don just now?” the man said in a low tone his eyes dropping down to look tenderly at (Y/n) before returning to gazing at Tattoo with an icy gaze.

“What the fuck is going on?” Scars muttered massaging his still sore jaw as the man from the limo clicked his tongue.

“By my count that was two acts of physical assault and two acts of verbal abuse against the Don’s property,” the limo man said his brow furrowing in annoyance. “Of course it had to be four, absolutely unforgivable” he added which rung a faint bell of recognition in (Y/n)’s pain-addled mind.

“I don’t think you even deserve a second warning for this heinous crime. No one disrespects the Don of Passione or his prized Ember” the limo man said firing a bullet through Tattoo’s brain killing him instantly. Scars and Smiles received similar punishment even as Smiles tried to run yelling “Please Capo forgive us! Have mercy Capo Mi—“ but he was dead before he could finish the plea.

With all three thugs dead, the limo man pulled (Y/n) up from under Tattoo’s corpse and off the pavement into his arms. He opened the limo door and gently placed the girl inside before sliding in himself. Blinking weakly (Y/n) felt her heart skip a beat as she realized there was a second man in the limo.

“Well, I didn’t expect you to get out to scold them Guido, or kill them for that matter. They must have really ticked you off and—” the second man whose voice had been causally bored came to an abrupt stop when he looked down at (Y/n). The girl felt herself blushing under the blood on her face and tried to sit up but the first male put a hand on her chest to keep her laying flat. The second male gently cupped her face in his hands with an expression of concentration.

“Stay still Ember, this is going to hurt but please bear with it” the second male said his golden curls of hair resembling an angelic halo to the bewildered girl’s unfocused gaze. A moment later sharp pain shot through (Y/n) and she began moaning out in pain. The first male had taken up petting her sides and mumbling encouraging words while his partner fixed up her wounds.

The shock of the fix-up was too much for (Y/n) to handle and she passed out before it was over. When she next woke up somebody was dabbing a wet towel against her face. Her eyes flickered open to see an unfamiliar girl with a determined expression dipping the towel back into a bowl of warm water and continuing to clean up her face.

“I’m Shelia E” the girl provided before (Y/n) could even open her mouth to ask. “The Don and his right-hand man brought you in about an hour or so ago” she added answering the second question (Y/n) had planned on asking as she looked at the room around her: it was a very ritzy looking bathroom.

“You were covered in blood and your clothes were filthy so they were throw out” Shelia E went on moving the towel to clean behind (Y/n)’s ears. At the mention of clothes the girl’s eyes darted down and she blushed when she saw all she had on was a silk bathrobe. Even her bra and panties had been removed making her shift uneasily as she became aware of the sensation of the air on her nethers.

“Hold still, I’m almost done. I had to cut part of your hair off because of all the blood and dirt. Hope you weren’t too attached to it” Shelia E said sternly as she finished cleaning (Y/n)’s face and surveyed her work with a satisfied nod.

“Let’s get you dressed,” Shelia E said pulling (Y/n) to her feet and herding her out of the bathroom into the small sitting room attached. (Y/n) sank into a large comfy looking loveseat that took up a quarter of the room trying to process what was going on.

“Wait what? Why do I have to get dressed?” (Y/n) said confusedly as Shelia E dropped a large box with a bow on it in her lap.

“Well I don’t want to judge but I think you need a little more clothes than just a robe. I don’t think the Don would like want your first introduction to his underlings to be so racy... but hey that’s your decision, not mine” Shelia E said with a shrug. Blushing vividly (Y/n) opened the box to find a beautiful red dress made of crushed velvet. Lifting out it out of the box, the bottom of the dress fell to the floor and the shoulder straps tied behind the neck.

“Where are the undergarments?” (Y/n) said turning the box upside down with a perplexed expression, a throng dropped on her lap but there was no matching bra. Shelia E shrugged and gave (Y/n) a nonchalant look.

“Great he’s a pervert just my fucking luck. I hope my boyfriends never find out about this, they’d never let me hear the end of it” (Y/n) grumbled and untied the robe dropping it on the floor. She slid the panties up before letting Shelia E help her into the dress which zipped up the back and fortunately had a build-in bra so her boobs were under control.

She refused Shelia E’s efforts to style her hair or put makeup on her face. Tying her hair back into simple braids that wrapped around her head like a circlet before joining into one braid that ended at the nape of her neck. Then applying some light make-up before turning back to Shelia E with a nervous smile.

“Okay, I’m ready to meet the Don... I guess” (Y/n) said allowing Shelia E to lead her out of the sitting room and down a set of carpeted stairs into the bustling club below. (Y/n)’s heart pounded and she kept her eyes down as she was led through the crowds of people talking, drinking, and laughing.

Until a familiar laugh caught her ears and made her head shot up to look for the source: Giorno. Once her eyes locked on him it was like everyone else in the room faded away as she sprinted towards him. She bumped into people and almost tripped in the stupid shoes she’d been forced to wear but it didn’t matter.

“GIORNO!” (Y/n) squealed and threw herself at the blonde. Giorno barely has time to react to his girlfriend launching herself into his lap but he managed to wrap his arms around her even as his chair tipped and toppled under the sudden movement.

The Don’s guards hadn’t been able to react in time to the girl throwing herself into the Don’s lap and knocking him over but they quickly swarmed in ready to remove the intruder. Giorno put up a hand to signal there was no need to act even as his face was covered in kisses by (Y/n).

“Hey don’t I get some sugar too?” Mista said squatting next to (Y/n) and Giorno. Without a single word (Y/n) eases her waist off of the blonde so she can tackle-hug the brunette and shower him with the same intensity of affection.

“God I’m so happy to see you! I was hoping I’d have a chance to... before I had to go see the Don and his lieutenant and thank them for saving me from some thugs” she said half-laughing and half-crying from the stress. Her head dropped to press against Mista’s chest as the laughing devolved into just crying.

“I’m a fucking mess aren’t I?” (Y/n) said between sobs. “Summer got shot by mobsters and I think she might have accidentally gotten involved with Passione’s Don because.... because” she was too distraught to speak as Mista scooped her up and carried her into a quiet drawing room with a couch at the back of it. He sat down on the couch with (Y/n) curled up in his arms like a puppy.

Giorno followed after his boyfriend and girlfriend into the drawing-room shutting the door behind them. He placed a hand on (Y/n)’s back petting lightly as he sank onto the couch beside Mista.

“Start from the beginning, all we know so far is that you left your apartment in a hurry and ended up on the bad side of town,” Giorno said in a soothing tone as he continued to pet the girl’s back.

“You’ve met my sister Summer right?” (Y/n) began and received affirmative nods. “And you know she’s a cop...” again she paused and again she was given the go-ahead to continue speaking. “Well while she was on a stakeout for a drug deal there was a firefight lead by Passione. And they stopped after hitting her cause they didn’t want to get in trouble for killing the Don’s member. She’s at the hospital now and in critical condition” (Y/n) managed to say without falling back into sobs.

“And then on my way home from the hospital I got jumped by gangbangers but a limo stopped and I guess the man erm men inside were the Don of Passione and his right-hand man. So now I owe a debt to the Don for saving me and I need to make sure my sister won’t be attacked by anyone while she’s in the hospital” this time she fell into sobs and Giorno and Mista let her cry until she regained control of herself.

“You look nice” Mista offered trying to lighten the mood. He hated seeing his girlfriend cry and he hated seeing her stress over things even more. He was hopeful that the flattery would trigger the normal response of brushing-off the words yet secretly accepting them as well.

“Don’t you even start Guido! I didn’t pick this monstrosity! Apparently, the Don had my old clothes thrown out and left this red eyesore as my only choice of attire” (Y/n) irritable said before Giorno’s nose pressed against the nape of her neck under where the dress was tied.

“So you don’t like the dress?” The blonde commented nuzzling absentmindedly at her neck. (Y/n)’s cheeks turned almost red as the dress as she let out a nervous giggle.

“Well okay, I guess calling it an eyesore is a little strong. It’s just... this dress must have cost thousands of lires. It’s too expensive for me and I’ve got practically nothing on underneath this thing” (Y/n) admitted quietly, noticing with some secret satisfaction that both boys looked hot and bothered now. Giorno has started kissing down the expanse of her bare back and Mista’s face had burrowed into her bosom to motorboat.

“Stop it! I still need to look presentable for the Don! I’ll come find you after my appeal and—“ (Y/n) was cut off by Mista’s head popping up from her boobs to crush his mouth against her lips playfully.

“—Nope, your appeal is happening right now” Mista said pulling back briefly then sticking his tongue in (Y/n)’s mouth and reaching around to untie the straps of her dress. Giorno has taken hold of the dress zipper in his mouth and began pulling it down. The drawing room’s door opened as Shelia E poked her head in. Both boys paused while (Y/n) scrambled to make herself presentable again.

“The car is ready and waiting out front Don Giovanna,” Shelia E said neutrally before shutting the door. (Y/n) stared blankly at the door before beginning to laugh nervously.

“Funny, that’s funny I could have sworn she called you Don just now” (Y/n) said still laughing uneasily when Giorno and Mista stared at her calmly her laughter began to fade into silence.

“Y-y-you’re the Don of Passione?” the girl said incredulously. When she received only cool nods, she felt her stomach twisting and her limbs became wobbly. If Mista hadn’t been keeping her on his lap with one arm around her waist, (Y/n) was sure she would have fallen onto the floor.

“I think I’m gonna faint” she mumbled as Giorno and Mista led her to the limo the blonde sliding in first before (Y/n) was set in his lap and the brunette sat beside them slamming the car door shut as he did. (Y/n)’s brain struggled to put all the pieces together but when it all came together her face fell into a grimace.

“Summer’s going to be targeted for being my sister isn’t she?” she said numbly. “I’m entwined with the mob now and that means I’ve put her in danger just for sharing blood” (Y/n) tearfully melting against Giorno’s chest desperate for the stability he usually brought.

“Don’t worry about your sister, I’ll have some of my men sent over to the hospital to watch over her. Nobody will lay a finger on her except for the doctors until she’s at full health again” Giorno soothed running his fingers up and down (Y/n)’s sides in a calming matter.

“Really? You’d do that for me? Th— How much will I owe you Don Giovanna?” (Y/n)’s tone warped halfway through her response going from cheerful relief to cold resignation. Giorno felt a painful pang in his chest at hearing his title leave her lips.

“There’s no need to call me that Ember. Giorno or GioGio will be fine” he said nuzzling her forehead and kissing her. “Nothing’s changed, I’m the same person I was a few hours ago” he added pressing a kiss to (Y/n)’s chin.

“But I’m not! A few hours ago I was just (Y/n) O’Reilly. Now I’m Don Giovanna’s hussy!” (Y/n) said as a troublesome thought started worming its way into her mind. What would happen when Giorno and Mista grew tired of her? Surely they wouldn’t have her killed right? But the memory of how Mista had coldly executed the gangbangers was still fresh in her mind and she shivered in silent terror.

“Don’t worry so much, everything will be fine. Believe me” Mista murmured into her ear reminding (Y/n) that he was present and slipped his hands under her dress, pulling at her panties so they slid to her ankles. “We’ll be home soon so we can resolve some unfinished business” he added with a purr and kissed her bare shoulder.

Despite these words sounding like there’d be a brief respite for the girl, the dress was already on the floor of the limo before the three reached their destination. (Y/n)’s shoes had also been lost somewhere in the car amidst the passionate chaos.

Mista took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around (Y/n) making her decent enough as he lifted her up into his arms to carry inside the mansion and upstairs to the bedroom he shared with Giorno. The girl hid her face against his chest which made his heart skip a beat excitedly. Once in the seclusion of the bedroom he set (Y/n) on the bed and began smooching up her neck before making hickies. However, he didn’t get much further before the sound of light snoring ruined the mood. Somehow, someway, (Y/n) had fallen asleep despite the romantic attention.

“Heh guess somebody’s too tired to get freaky” Giorno commented yawning and stretching as he began to undress. Mista threw him an evil look but also began changing out of his suit. (Y/n) continued to sleep sprawled out naked as a babe until one of the boys’ finally manned up enough to grab an old tee shirt for her to wear.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to talk business tomorrow then, maybe she’ll finally agree to move in with us” Mista mused as he tucked (Y/n) under the covers before sliding in beside her and pressing his face against her chest. Giorno made himself cozy against the girl’s back kissing her shoulders lazily a few times before resting his head on a pillow. Tomorrow would be a new day, and a new dawn would rise on the story of the Don, his Lieutenant, and their Artist Ember...

[myhockeyworld87]

Choices - Tyler Seguin/Jamie Benn - Part 2

Word Count: 2183

POV: Starts with Tyler switches to Reader

Warnings: Cursing

Musical Inspiration: Leela James - Fall For You

Notes: So glad you all liked this idea. Thanks to everyone that voted. Here’s the second part. I will give it 48 hours for voting then start on Part 3. Happy Reading! As always feedback is appreciated. Peace, Love and Hugs all!

Link to Choices Masterlist

TYLER’S POV

 Every instinct in your body told you to head straight back stage and confront (Y/N). Taking a few deep breaths, you collected yourself; reigning in those emotions. It wouldn’t do any good to cause a scene. With one last breath, you opened the door and headed back inside; to wait for a better opportunity. Her voice stopped you short, and you stood in the back where you knew she couldn’t see you.

 “So, this next one we’re going to do, is new. Sometimes, someone comes into your life and they just change everything. They make you believe that love is possible again. This one’s for you JB.” She was smiling brightly as she spoke the words. JB, when the hell, did Jamie become known as JB? Again, she was sitting at the piano, as notes started to drift to the back of the room.

 Here we are together, and everything between us is good.

I’m riding this cloud, baby; ready to fly but before I take another step.

Would you catch me if I fall for you?

Cause I’m falling, I’m falling, I’m falling.

 You didn’t need to see Jamie’s face to know that he was staring adoringly at (Y/N). Who wouldn’t when the girl you were in love with, was singing a song about how she was falling for you? It reminded you of that night, when you and (Y/N) had been out in the hot tub in Toronto. You’d begged her to make up a song about you; tickling her mercilessly until she relented. She ended up doing a free style rap about your tattoos; both of you dissolving into a fit of laughter. At the end of the night when you were both laying in bed, naked, her head on your chest; she softly sang a ballad filled with love and hope, that had you falling more in love with her.

 Will you promise to be there?

Stay by my side, always? Whenever I need you

Don’t let me down, no, no.

If I give you my all, don’t let me fall.

Would you do that for me, hold me?

Will you love me, Will you love me?

 The words haunted you, they were calling you out on what you had done to her; as much as they were asking Jamie to love her. You’d fucked up, you knew that; paid for it everyday after. But why Jamie, of all people? Why did it have to be him? Who were you kidding, it didn’t matter who it was, you’d still be jealous.

 My heart is ready, for love and to be loved

And I choose you baby; That’s the one thing I’m sure of

So I will take this one last step

So catch me I’m falling for you

I’m falling, I’m falling, I’m falling.

 Her fingers, hit the keys of the final chord; and she looked over, blowing Jamie a kiss. The crowd erupted into applause as the band left the stage. You had no choice but to take your seat at the table and wait for her to join you.

 “Jesus Seguin, you missed the whole show. What the hell were you doing?” Of course, Jamie would notice your absence; you knew he would. He’d wanted you here to meet his new girlfriend and you’d missed the majority of her performance.

 Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you said. “Sorry man, couldn’t be helped. It was Cassidy.” Hopefully that would be an acceptable explanation.

 “Well (Y/N) should be out soon. I hope you were able to resolve everything.” You nodded that things were fine; out of the corner of your eye you saw her enter the main room. She got stopped by someone, probably praising her on her performance. She glanced over; Jamie waving to get her attention. She smiled at him, then surveyed the rest of the table; visibly her face fell, once she made eye contact with you. Slowly, she made her way over.

 Jamie rose from his seat to embrace her and give her a kiss. A sick feeling took over your body, as you felt bile rise to the back of your throat. The kiss wasn’t passionate, nor did it last long but it was something you did not want to see.  She pulled back from it quickly, yet remained pressed against Jamie’s side. “I didn’t realize you’d invited friends tonight.” Her voice held a note of surprise to it.

 “Yeah, I thought maybe if you met some of my teammates; I could coax you into coming to a game.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “By the way you were great as always hun. I love your new song.” He winked at her and she smiled becomingly at him. Discreetly you coughed, drawing their attention back to you. “Oh right, (Y/N) this is Tyler Seguin, one of my best friend’s and teammate. Segs, this is (Y/N).”

 You held your hand out to her, which she took; the minimal contact like a shot of lightning straight to your heart. “I feel like we’ve met before.” It wasn’t right, you shouldn’t be toying with her; yet you couldn’t stop yourself. You wanted to see how she would respond.

 “You do look oddly familiar to me.” (Y/N) had always been quick-witted and never one to backdown from a challenge; so, you weren’t surprised with her response. “Though I can’t quite place why.” It was her next words that had you taking a step back. “Oh, I think I have it. You remind me of my ex-boyfriend.”

 Was she really going to admit that the two of you dated? Before you could take the questioning further, Kathleen stood. “Hi (Y/N), I’m Kathleen; Tyler’s girlfriend.” You rolled your eyes. Kathleen was not your girlfriend; though how you were going to get that point across to (Y/N) you had no idea.

 (Y/N) smiled sweetly at Kathleen. It was fake; you’d seen her do it before. They shook hands, as (Y/N) said; “Nice to meet you Kathleen; and might I say you two are so cute together.” Kathleen wrapped both hands around your arm and you recoiled; taking a step away from her. (Y/N) eyed you skeptically. “If you guys will excuse me. I’m going to go grab a drink and I’ll be right back.”

 “No need baby, I ordered you one.” Jamie kissed her forehead; it was as if he couldn’t keep his hands off her. You remembered that feeling all too well; wanted to reach out and feel her now. “Sit, relax, let’s all chat.”

 Everyone sat down, you figured now was as good a time as any to get some answers. “So, (Y/N) tell me how you met Jamie.”

 She pursed her lips at you, before answering. “Oh wow, where to start. I got transferred here about five months ago; so, I’d been here a few weeks before we met.” Jamie nodded his head in agreement. “I was in the grocery store, just doing some late-night shopping. I think it was the frozen food aisle.”

 “Yeah by the veggies.” Jamie piped in.

 “I didn’t see the water that was leaking from the freezer and totally would’ve biffed it; if this one hadn’t caught me.” Jamie grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips.

 “Best night of my life.” God they were so disgustingly sweet; you wanted to puke.

 (Y/N) smiled genuinely at Jamie, though you noticed she didn’t remark that it was her best night as well. Vaguely you wondered what was. “Anyhow, he asked me if I wanted to go get drinks afterwards; and well, as they say the rest is history.” A round of drinks arrived then, halting the conversation momentarily.

 READER’S POV

 You’d been dreading this moment since the day you found out Jamie was a hockey player for the Dallas Stars. The moment you would come face to face with the man that broke your heart, was finally here. When you walked out from backstage and saw him with Jamie; you felt your heart break all over again. He was still as handsome as ever; which didn’t help the fluttering going on in your stomach.

 When he made mention of knowing you, you thought you would die. Keeping the knowledge that you’d dated Tyler from Jamie; had been a hard decision. You didn’t like keeping anything from him; even though he’d kept a vital piece of information about himself from you. Honestly, during the whole encounter, you hadn’t noticed the blonde, Kathleen, was it; until she introduced herself. Meeting her changed your whole demeanor. Gone was the broken-hearted girl, Tyler left two years; replaced by the strong woman who emerged from that heartache. Kathleen was everything you thought of when you pictured the girl, he cheated on you with.

 Glancing at Jamie, you were reminded of how much he’d brought love back into your life some four months ago. You drew from that love now as you started answering all the questions you knew Tyler would have. Which started immediately after the waitress left. “What a cute story. That was what, playoff time? I don’t remember seeing you at any game then. How come?”

 It was Jamie who answered first. “Well that was my fault. I kind of kept what I did for a living from you, didn’t I babe?”

 “Seems like a hard thing to keep from someone.”

 Cocking your head at Tyler, you said. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I didn’t know until…when was it…I think we’d been dating for six weeks.” You looked at Jamie to confirm the information, before continuing. “I know it sounds completely absurd. How could I not know?”

 Jamie chimed in. “I’m embarrassed that I kept it from you. It was just nice that someone was interested in me for me and not the hockey player.” You kissed him on the cheek; Jamie had to be one the sweetest men you’d ever met. How anyone could not like him just for him; was beyond you. “I wanted to tell you on the second date; but then you told me about your ex-boyfriend being a hockey player and how you’d never date another professional athlete.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I couldn’t tell you then, thinking you’d never go out with me again; and I couldn’t have that. I already knew in just those two short dates; you were something special.”

 Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tyler roll his. Obviously, you weren’t anything special to him. He’d only been gone five weeks before he cheated on you. “Well by the time you told me, I was too head over heels for you; to let you go.”

 Jamie winked over at you. “That was my plan.”

 “But enough about us. Tell me how you two met?” Jamie nudged you under the table, as if to tell you; you shouldn’t have asked that.

 Kathleen smiled brilliantly over at you. “Nothing quite as romantic as you two.”

 Tyler’s words halted anything further she was going to say. “We’re actually not together!”

 You blinked rapidly, hadn’t she just introduced herself as Tyler’s girlfriend? Jamie squeezed your hand under the table. As if the situation couldn’t get more awkward. Kathleen, looked over at Tyler; tears forming in her eyes. “If you’ll excuse me.” She got up and left the table; headed in the direction of the restrooms.

 Jamie looked over at Tyler, that glaring one you’d seen him use on the ice when you watched him on tv. “What? She’s not my girlfriend. She knows that, yet she still continues to call herself that. I was just setting her straight.”

 “Christ Seggy, you could’ve picked another place and time to do that.”

 You weren’t sure it was your place, yet you still asked. “Should I go check on her?”

 “No, she’ll be fine. Let her go.” Tyler told you. “Please tell me more about your fascinating love story.” The sarcastic tone in his voice was quite evident.

 “Jesus Seguin, I asked you not to be an ass tonight; though you can’t seem to help yourself, can you?”

 “Fuck off Chubbs.”

 You could see the anger in both Jamie’s and Tyler’s eyes. “What the fuck is your problem tonight Segs? I know you were lying about the call from Cassidy. You’ve been an absolute jackass since you came back inside.” Things were getting out of hand. Tyler kept looking at you, making you squirm in your seat. This was not the way you wanted Jamie to find out that Tyler was in fact your ex-hockey playing boyfriend.

 “You want to know what’s bothering me Chubbs? I’ll tell you.”

 Every bone and muscle in your body was screaming NO; yet you didn’t know what to do.

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

 Now it’s your choice again!

A)      Stop Tyler from saying anything. You can’t let Jamie know about you and Tyler.

B)      Let Tyler tell Jamie the truth, it would be a relief for him to finally know.

C)      Tyler decides not to tell Jamie the truth and makes up a lie; until he can talk to you in private.

[jawnjendes]

bonus: why is their luck in a deeply sad moment? | shawn mendes

some type of au idk man, shawn x goth ex gf

WARNING: there is talk of death and suicide in this chapter. read at your own risk.

AN: i cant squeeze this into the next big fic nor can i fit it into shawn meets bc everyone hated it so its a bonus in the gg story lmao also im starying the Next Big Fic in a few days :)

masterlist | annalise’s playlist

2026.

"Sometimes I think about the what ifs,"  Ann said, “but I like where I am. I like what I’ve made for myself.”

Shawn had to invite her over to his house a second time, because the first time left him with many questions unanswered. He couldn’t be mad at what she said, though. He was in the same boat; he liked the life he made. You know, without the crushing loss and run in with the supernatural.

“Well, I’m happy for you,” he told her, and he really meant it. “I’m glad we were able to successfully do our own things straight after breaking up.”

“Nothing like filling the void in your heart with work!” Ann replied with a giggle. She moved a strand of hair behind her ear, and that’s when Shawn noticed something.

He took her hand and noticed a tattoo on the side of her middle finger: The Triforce.

“You got inked?” he asked, impressed.

“Oh, that’s nothing,” she replied, grabbing her sleeve to roll it up.

There was a sword on her inner arm. It was varying in shades of blue, and it also had the Triforce on it. Shawn recognized it as the Master Sword from the Legend of Zelda games.

“All this is is proof that I’m a nerd,” Ann said as she rolled her sleeve back down. “I notice you have some more ink also… and that you still wear shirts half buttoned.” She pointed to his chest.

Her finger poked the exposed skin. It shouldn’t have been as tingly as it was. Shawn smiled and placed his hand over his chest.

“More than just that,” he told her. “But I can’t show you all of them.”

Maybe it was a little risky to say that. Shawn would have taken it back if Ann’s cheeks hadn’t gone a shade of pink.

“I could say the same thing…”

Shawn quickly came to learn just how many tattoos Ann had gotten over the years. A snake and tombstones on her other arm. Feather on her collarbone, roses on her shoulder. A quote reading, “...but I’m not anymore” with stars around it on her ribcage. Something on her wrist that Shawn didn’t catch because he was busy pressing his lips to her hips and taking off her pants, where he found another tattoo. “Lucky you.” He certainly felt it.

Everything about their time together was so familiar, so easy and almost home-like. Ann’s skin touching his. Her lips perfectly molding over his. The quiet, needy gasps they both released into the bedroom. It was like going back in time, and they were in Shawn’s Toronto apartment instead of his multimillion dollar condo in LA. It was soft and slow, despite Shawn pinning Ann’s arms above her head. He didn’t outgrow that particular move, and she still seemed to like it.

Shawn had never been happier to have been on a break more than now. Most one night stands in the past began and ended very quickly, because he was on tour or in between interviews or on a break for one day. This was one person that he didn’t want to leave behind. They lied down, sweaty and dazed, facing each other. It was silent, but not awkward. Everything had a nice haze around it.

That was also when Shawn finally made out what the tattoo on Ann’s wrist was. He picked his head up in confusion.

“Is… are those torches?” he asked. “Upside down? Just like mine… and are those my initials?”

It was simple line art, less intricate than his own. Torches in an X, with “SM” right below them. Shawn has been floored many times, and this was no exception.

Ann picked her head up as well. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Shawn looked down at his chest, his torches were exactly the same, sans the initials. He wanted to give Ann the benefit of the doubt, that this wasn’t some creepy fangirl thing. Some of his one night stands ended up like that, and it wasn’t exactly easy to forget.

“It’s for a friend of mine,” Ann explained, sitting up and covering her front with the blanket. She took note of the look on Shawn’s face. “Keeping someone’s light on beyond death, remember? I assume yours is for someone too.”

They were both sitting up now, and Shawn relaxed. However, he only relaxed a little bit because now it was time to get deep.

“Mine’s for Brian. He died last year.”

Ann’s face fell. “No. Brian, your best friend? Brian, the one who constantly took the piss outta me?”

He nodded. “He was… there was an accident. Flight of stairs. Instantly killed.” It was all lies, but no human would understand.

A hand went over his, squeezing. “I’m so sorry. He just, he just fell down some stairs?”

“A lot of stairs. I don’t know I guess he was running or something. There was no way to save him. People in the house heard the crash, but by the time they found him - when I found him - it was too late.” He had told this version many times, enough times to where he could almost believe it himself.

“Fuck, man. That’s… that’s fucking terrible,” Ann said sympathetically. “But I seriously can’t believe you just told me that.”

“Why?”

“Because now I have to tell you that mine is for Stella. Those are her initials.”

Stella Martinez. Now Shawn felt a little stupid… but surprised, and he was met with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He couldn’t believe it for a second, but it fully processed in his head, and his heart began to break.

“Stella from college? Stella, who was your literal opposite and also your best friend?”

Ann solemnly nodded. Then she looked down. “She… she killed herself.”

Shawn was stunned into silence, the tightness in his chest only intensifying. The entire time he knew Stella, she was always so positive and bubbly. She was the opposite of suicidal. That’s why it was such a shock… and so sad. Oh god, who was going to tell Camila?

“When did Brian go to the other side?” Ann asked after a moment.

“A year ago last month,” Shawn replied. “And Stella?”

Ann raised an eyebrow. “Two years ago last month...”

It was a strange coincidence, but still upsetting. Both Shawn and Ann lost their best friends at the same time of the year. The urge to spill everything was thick in the air. Still, neither of them said anything for a while.

Instead, Ann reached down to the floor to pick up her clothes. Shawn’s eyes were stuck on her and that was when he spotted another word on her back. Nightmare. Small font, right shoulder blade, surrounded by a cluster of skulls. Then, he realized what she was doing.

“Are you leaving?”

She looked up, bra in hand. She was quiet as she put it back on.

“No. No, I’m not going anywhere.”

And she crawled back into bed. She made the point to keep a distance from Shawn, who was still naked. He was on his side, looking at the woman before him. Only Ann could have sex with him and bring up the subject of death. That brought a new point to mind.

“How do you enjoy death?” he asked. “I think I’ve asked you this before, but after losing someone and attending their funeral, I’m having a hard time understanding your perspective.”

Ann took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling. “I don’t enjoy the act of dying. People die every day in horrible ways. People mourn and fall into depression because of death. That’s not something to enjoy.”

“So what’s your deal with it?”

“I’m just embracing the face that it’s inevitable. I do that for myself. I will die eventually, or tomorrow-”

Shawn made a face; he didn’t like that thought.

“It doesn’t make it any easier when someone I know goes,” Ann continued. “You’d think with all the research I’ve done it would be. The ones we love leave this mortal plane, and all they leave is their absence. And that alone is a lot to process.”

“What’s the hardest part?”

“The what if’s.”

Shawn asked because he really wanted to know more about what happened to Stella. He had to know the things that led up to the tragedy, mostly because he knew Camila would ask for details, even if they were hard to hear.

He figured he should spill his side first.

“The last thing I said to Brian was to get the hell out of my room,” he began. “We were fighting, fighting over something so fucking stupid, and I was so pissed at him. That was our last interaction. He fell down the stairs because he was trying to find me in this big huge mansion…”

Ann sat up a little bit, hand over her chest. “Here?”

“Oh no, not here. I was staying at a friend’s house in London for a work thing. Place was huge, easy to get lost in,” Shawn clarified. “Brian, Andrew, all of them were leaving back to Toronto and I didn’t want to go just yet. Part of it was because I was still pissed. Maybe if I had run into him first before he fell… If I hadn’t kicked him out of my room a few nights prior… If I was less of an asshole…”

“Maybe you would have slipped on the stairs,” Ann told him. “Maybe you guys would have had an even bigger argument later that would have ended your friendship. There’s no way to tell, and sometimes that’s what sucks the most.”

Huh. Most people tell him not to dwell on it. No wonder Ann was a shrink now.

“Losing someone is one of the hardest things we, as humans, have to face,” she said. “It’s not easy in the slightest. Besides, the grieving period takes about three to five years, so you - we - are still in the beginning stages of it. Thinking about the what ifs, what you want to change, what you wish you could say to Brian - all of that is normal.”

The two of them let those words settle for a moment. Shawn’s eyes were a little misty, and redirecting the topic was probably not going to help. But he laid his stuff out on the table.

“What about you?” he asked.

“Me?”

“Your what ifs?”

Ann paused, looking around the room. “What if I had put my Master’s to use and noticed the goddamn signs?”

Shawn watched her, hoping she would at least return the eye contact.

“I’m an expert in this shit,” she said. “I have the years of school, the degrees, and the licenses for detecting things like this. I only figured it out the moment her dad called me.”

“How do you detect when someone is suicidal?”

“In her case, she was elated. When someone makes that decision, they reach a state of euphoria because they know their pain is about to end.”

“But Stella was always-”

“Believe me, I know. I hadn’t talked to her since graduating in Toronto, so I thought she hadn’t changed at all. But I would see on her social media, she just moved back to her parents’ house in Florida, and she hinted that she wasn’t happy about it.”

As if Shawn couldn’t take another blow. Come to think of it, he never heard much about Stella’s home life. He didn’t even think that it could be a negative place for her.

“I was in Jacksonville for work,” Ann continued, “so I hit her up, and we met up for lunch. We talked for about an hour, and she said that I was always a good friend and college wife and that she’ll always love me. And my stone hearted ass just said ‘cool, you don’t suck’ and that was that. A month later, she’s as blue as the pills she took.”

“Ooo…” Shawn sighed, cringing at that mental image. Sweet, warm hearted Stella cold and lifeless. Call it morbid, awful thinking, but Shawn wished Brian looked like that in death instead of the bloody mess he turned out to be.

“Yeah. And her parents had her embalmed and put in an airtight casket, but that’s a whole other rant.” Ann waved it off and lied back down.

Shawn didn’t know what else to do except lie down as well. While sharing the stories of how their friends died, he couldn’t help but feel just a little bit closer to Ann. The first time they met, it took fighting tooth and nail to get her to open up. Now, Shawn felt okay silently reached for her hand, and tenderly holding it in his.

Both of them winded up at the same awards show. Both lost their best friends. Both got the same type of tattoo to honor them. Neither of them anticipated meeting again. This couldn’t be a coincidence.

_______

goth gf taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @ilsolee @mendesromano @kitykatnumber @strangerliaa @iloveshawnieboi @someoneunimportantxx @goldenmndes @calyumthomas @shawnsunflower @shawnvvmendes @parkeraul @havethetimeeofyourlifee @chillingbythesea @wronglanemendes @softmendesss @peruvian-bae @theprivatewritings

[shittyfandomimagines]

Always Fix It

This is sloppy. I’m tired. I don’t wanna work tomorrow.

GIF creds to owner

“Ahh, my favorite person!” Manny opened the door after I knocked. “What’s up!” I hug him and he kissed my head. “We’re just waiting on you and Shawn, who isn’t with you?” He seemed just as confused as I was.

“Yeah, I think he’s at the studio still, I just decided to come over here without him.” I put my jacket on the rack, Manny leading me to the dinner table.

“My girl!” Karen yells and I hug her tightly. “Where’s Ali?” I ask and they both give me a look. “Wanted to go out with friends, family time is annoying at this age.” Karen rolls her eyes and it makes me chuckle.

I absolutely love Shawn’s family, they let me come to their house when Shawn’s on tour, they constantly invite me out for supper, they check in on me at least once a week, I couldn’t ask for a better relationship with my fiancé’s family.

“Well, let’s sit down. Want anything to drink?” She asks and I hesitate before I sit down. “I’ll get a glass of water.” I turn and Manny stops me. “I got it!”

I smile warmly and sit down with Karen, Manny comes back soon with a glass of wine and water. I give my thanks before sipping on it slowly. The food on the table looked absolutely wonderful, roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, beans, rolls. I mean the whole shebang.

“It looks amazing Karen, sorry Shawn isn’t here yet.” I pout a little, I wasn’t surprised honestly. It’s been like that for weeks now and I don’t know how he wanted me to feel about it. Maybe it’s been months, I don’t know, I’ve just learned to cope with it.

“He’d show up late to his own funeral if he could.” Manny joked and I felt like it was Shawn here, I missed his sense of humor and dad jokes.

“How’s the planning going?”

“Oh you know, slowly but surely. Shawn’s been so busy, it’s kind of hard to come to an agreement.”

“He is helping, right? Don’t let him make you do it on your own.”

His mom's scolding was cute, but I still felt the need to lie for him. He didn’t help a bit on the wedding plans, even when I asked and I never realized how much I’ve done alone until now.

“He helps when he can!” I lie straight through my teeth and I see her give me a weary smile.

I look at my phone shortly, hoping Shawn had sent a message to my previous one asking if he’d show up. There was absolutely no response and it was not even seen.

“Y/n, tell us about your promotion! Your mom had mentioned it at work the other day.” I smiled at the friendship between both of our moms, it was amazing. It also helped that they worked together at a real estate company.

“I get to go to the firms and work with the lawyers now, instead of just sitting on the sidelines. I’ll most likely do paperwork or assistant type things, but it’s still the idea of sitting with the council. I finish law school soon so this is just perfect training.” I explain and Manny’s eyes widen.

“No way! That’s amazing hun! Is that why Shawn posted that picture at the club the other night? A good celebration?” He asks and my smile faltered. “Um, well no. He, he went out with his friends to celebrate the song they finished. I worked at the restaurant that night.” I explained and their faces fell too. Truth was that I didn’t even get the chance to tell him, he was so excited about that song that I didn’t want to try to outdo him on it. He had been in a lyrical bend for a week prior to that day.

“Well, you two got to celebrate right?”

“Not exactly, but it’s okay! I celebrated with my mom and dad, though. It’s nothing that big! I mean once I graduate law school, it’ll be a big deal.”

“That’s not right, you worked so hard to get moved up. We’ll throw a party for Shawn’s side. You deserve all the praise.”

—

“Well, it’s been 20 minutes, let’s dig in. No sense in the food getting cold.” Manny said and I made a small plate of food. The nerves of tonight made my appetite decline.

We all ate in almost silence, I had sent Shawn a few voicemails and texts. The knots in my stomach were mostly from overthinking a lot of things in my life.

I felt like everything had been downhill since the proposal, which sounded completely awful. I feel like he did it to just keep me at bay for a while, make sure I was content so he could stay in the studio. I had nothing against his music and I love it fully; but if there ever came a day to wed me or wed his music, I’d be afraid of the outcome.

He’s such a hard worker and I would never want to make him choose, but I feel like I’m a little baby and giving me a ring was like giving me a pacifier; it kept everything at bay with planning and I didn’t have time to realize his total absence.

I felt like I could vomit just at the thought, so I slowly halted my eating. “Everything okay?” Karen’s eyes danced with worry and I nodded quickly. “Ate too fast.” I lied. They tried to ignore it and I just continued to look down at my plate sadly.

My mind went back to what Manny said about the clubbing, my heart hurt that I didn’t even get the chance to tell him. I knew I couldn’t be mad at anyone but myself because I could tell him at any point, but my good heart just tells me to let him have his moment.

“I made your absolute favorite dessert, Peanut Butter Pie, with cookie crust because you hate pie shells!” Karen was thrilled and I smiled warmly. “You’re too good to me.” That wasn’t was a lie for sure; they were both gracious and wonderful.

I took a small bite of the pie, my heart was so happy to have them but my fear of losing them made my heart soar. All of the doubts I was having right now made me panic internally.

The thoughts of Shawn maybe not wanting me as a wife and only doing this to satisfy me made me worry.

The front door opened and my heart hoped it was Shawn for sanity sake, but it was his beautiful sister. “Y/n!” She came to my side to give me a hug.

“Where’s Shawn, he bailed again?” She groans and I felt tears spring to my eyes. I kept my head low as I nod. “Yeah, I guess he’s just so busy.”

I felt all of them staring at me, I didn’t want to let them see me bawl my eyes out, so I shot up quickly to hide in the bathroom.

—

After a good 5-8 minutes of crying softly, a knock was placed on the door of the downstairs bathroom. “Hey doll, it’s Karen. Can I come in?” She asks so sweetly, I turned the lock carefully.

“Sorry about that.” I wiped the tears off and sniffled loudly. “Hey, there’s no need to apologize to me. I raised two kids and I’ve seen plenty of tears.” She got on the floor with me, I felt awful about that.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong? Was it us?” She asks and I look at her scared eyes. “No way! Your family is beyond amazing to me and my family. I just feel a little bad today, no biggie.” I brush it off to make her feel better and she pouts.

“My son is the problem, talk to me so I won’t have to punish my grown man-child.”

“I’m just not enough for him, you know? I’m average, I work a crappy internship and at a small restaurant to feel validated to him. I’m overly clingy and my heart is too sweet to let someone I love know they’ve absolutely crushed me. I’m average looking, I could lose some weight and I’m actually trash. I don’t like all the fancy things like Shawn, I don’t really fit into his lifestyle. Honestly, he probably doesn’t even want to marry me! I mean it’s like there's a ring, please stay hopeful that I love you and try to plan a wedding for a superstar and his mid-average fiancé.” I was ranting and blabbering, my tears had resurfaced before I had the first sentence finished.

“You don’t mean that. There’s no way you could possibly not be enough for him. I remember the day he came home from your first date, the whole hour prior to leaving he hated that I set him up with a coworkers daughter. Then, he came home with those sparkly eyes and was talking to Manny about how unrealistic you were. How crazy that something that good could possibly show up in his hectic life. He told his dad that he couldn’t wait for the next second he got to spend with you.” She explains and I smile at the memory.

“Yeah, that was then though. I’m still below average and I really don’t fit in anymore. That boy is constantly changing and I don’t know if I can keep up with me being my boring self.”

“I thought the same with Manny, he was a business owner and I sold houses, I wasn’t that special. I was afraid I couldn’t keep up but it turns out a good team knows how someone has to carry the torch a little bit further ahead. Some days you’ll be at the same pace or there are other days where someone is the turtle. It isn’t about who is ahead or behind, it’s about how you cross the finish line together.”

“I understand what you mean, I just don’t know how to ever approach him. I lied earlier, Shawn doesn’t even know I got promoted. I was going to tell him but he was so happy to finally get a song done, I knew he was in a rut. I can’t even make him happy and I know music does, I knew I could’ve told him anytime after that but I thought it was dumb too because it’s insignificant to his happiness. I wouldn’t want to bore him.”

“He loves you, he would be happy to hear that you’re happy. He brags about you constantly, he even bragged when you made it through your first tattoo session. He loves you.”

“I guess, I can’t remember the last time he said it nor can I remember the last time he slept in bed with me. I mean I know he’s asleep in the house because he’s thinking of a song but I miss him. I can’t ask him to give up music, I’m not that important compared to that.”

I tried so hard not to sob my eyes out in front of my soon-to-be-mother in law. I really didn’t want to even talk to her about it because I shouldn’t load my drama onto her about her son. I should’ve just cried myself to sleep like any other Thursday night.

“The night before he proposed, he came over to show us the ring. He bought it somewhere in Italy months prior because he knew that was the ring he wanted on your finger. I know he’s an idiot sometimes, he’s my spawn so I can say it, but he does love you. Manny talked about me that way when we were dating, engaged, and still now. I know he’s a mess but he does love you.”

I give her a hug and pull back to grab some tissues off the counter. I wipe the rest of my tears off for the sake of Karen and I’s relationship. I was still hurting so bad because his mom was telling me this but not him. It’s held minimum value even though I loved her.

We both stood up and I had a weak smile. “I shouldn’t have even done that, I’m so sorry. I’ll see ya Karen, love you bye!” I zipped out of the bathroom and bolted to the door.

“Wait!” Ali’s voice stopped me and I turned to her worried face. “Are you and Shawn do? Is everything okay?” She asked quickly and my heart broke. I didn’t even think that far. “It’s all good sweet girl, I just need to go home. I love you okay?” I kiss her forehead, bid Manny goodbye, and made it back to my car before the 4th round of tears.

—-

I found my way to the old walkway behind our old apartment. It wasn’t as awkward as it sounded because behind our old apartment meant 2 miles down the road yet it was accessible somewhere close to the house. Not important. I walked up to the trail, the stars were shiny and the slightly red moon was beautiful.

My phone was buzzing off the hook; between my mom, Shawn’s mom, Ali, and then Shawn. I could only imagine that his mom went off on him.

Deciding to turn off my phone seemed to be the best bet for now. I know it’s hard to love in our generation, even more so when my love is displayed online. And between such a caring family. Therefore, it’s so much for satisfying to just breathe.

I hadn’t even noticed that an hour had passed, I just felt so at ease with the cool air and pretty sky. The tears were off and on but they weren’t as bad. I had to at least face Shawn, even if it was cliche, we never left things hostile or rough between us.

When I pulled up to the house, Shawn’s car was parked there and I could see all the lights on. I took a deep breath before unlocking the door.

“Y/n?” Shawn’s voice was traveling down the stairs as ran down them. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“Where’ve you been? My mom told me something wasn’t right and she was concerned for us. Ali said she’s afraid you’re gonna leave, dad wants to murder me. Baby, please tell me what’s goin’ on.” He tried to take my hand and I pull it away, sticking them into my pockets.

“W-we need to talk.” I stutter out and I could see every ounce of fear soak through his body

He leads us to the dining room table and I see the flowers there, I try not to smile. “I picked them up before my mom yelled at me over the phone.”

“I’m not good enough for you.” I rip the bandaid right off and his eyes widen. “Are you insane? You’re more than enough.”

“I could probably never make you as happy as music or touring can. I don’t really have anything interesting about me anymore. I got promoted at work and the more I think about it, the more I realize that it isn’t that special.”

“Babe-“

“Wedding planning is very stressful. I don’t think you want to really marry me, I mean it’s not like you are right? I mean it was probably just a way to settle me down so you could work on music. Don’t get me wrong, I support you like I support eating chicken nuggets, but you don’t even help. I can’t remember the last time you said you loved me and I tell myself that you're busy with work so you don’t want to sleep with me, but maybe I’m just not something you want to wake up or fall asleep to anymore.”

“Can I plea-“

“I used to always be afraid that you would wake up one day and realize that I’m not enough. I-i think we both see that now. So I get it if you want to leave me, I’m not meant for your constantly changing lifestyle. I don’t like the same fancy things as you and maybe you’re meant to be with someone fully committed to the same things you love. I’m sorry.”

I had tears rushing down my face as I cried loudly, I didn’t even like to cry in front of him, but it didn’t help that he also had tears in his eyes.

“Baby, I love you more than I think anyone has ever loved something. I’m so sorry I neglected you and you are perfectly validated in my eyes. You never ever have to question if you’re enough because I’m the one questioning if I am. I literally don’t know how you love someone constantly on the move. You give so much of yourself to me and I could never thank you enough. I love you so much and I guess I never realized how absent I’ve been in our love.” He stopped his speech for a second to let out a very pained choke of air, I wanted to reach for his hand but it felt like mine weighed a thousand pounds.

“I wanted to marry you after our 3rd date. That sounds so silly but I wanted a ring on your finger for years now, but I knew I needed to wait when the time was right. I- I can’t believe I have made you think I didn’t love you or want to be with you solely for the reason that I get to be a family with you. It was never ever the reasoning you think, I did it solely because the love I feel for you couldn’t be contained to just a boyfriend. I’ll help you restart planning or help you find someone to plan it, whatever you want, I’ll do. You’re my fucking soulmate. I’m so sorry.”

He cried and never looked me in the eyes, I honestly have never seen him cry this hard. It didn’t matter how sad I was over our relationship, I couldn’t stand to see his pain this intensely.

“I didn’t lay with you because I didn’t want to wake you up, I knew how hard you’ve been working to get promoted at the firm, I didn’t want you being sleep deprived because of my constantly moving figure. Which by the way, I am so happy you’re promoted. You literally deserve it all because you are the hardest working woman I know. I wish you would’ve told me sooner. Oh God, I love waking up to you and id do some questionable things just to get to hold you at night. I could never love my music as much as I love you, music makes me happy but you make me live. You know me like the back of my hand, I could never possibly unlove you. I am so sorry, please understand.”

“I do understand and I should’ve come to you sooner, I’m just afraid Shawn. Always.”

“I am too, but I know there is no one else I’d rather face every tomorrow with. Can we call it a truce and let me make you a bowl of ice cream? I can put on Mulan and hold you.” He raised his eyebrows.

Nothing made my heart soar like that mischievous smile that also held so much love. “Fine, I could care less about anything m we watched or ate, I just want you.”

“So you don’t care about anything we get to eat?” He smirked

“You’re on thin ice buddy, thin ice.”

[piperemerald]

Star Crossed

Read on AO3

Adora had the blue mark on the inside of her arm for as long as she could remember. For most of her childhood she hadn’t had a reason to question it. Like most things that she took for granted, it was Catra who brought the significance of her mark to her attention.

There hadn’t been anything special about that day. They’d just finished a training session and had come back to their sleeping area to change into clothes that didn’t reek and stick to them. This was one of the rare times where Adora and Catra were alone in the large room. Adora liked these moments, they were the only ones where she felt she could let her guard down and just breathe.

Once she’d dumped her old clothes in the laundry bin, Adora let herself fall onto her bed. Her gaze drifted toward Catra in time for her to notice a smaller, different blue shape of lines on her friend’s collar. It was just low enough to be covered by her shirt.

“What?” Catra gave her a pointed look when she caught Adora staring.

“Nothing.” Adora had tried to tear her eyes away, but it was as if the mark had locked onto her.

“Okay,” Catra drew out the word. “It’s not that weird, you have one too.”

Adora glanced down at her own arm, even though the mark was covered by her shirt sleeves. Her mark was always covered, the uniform she wore made sure of that. 

“How did you know?” Adora asked, her hand subconsciously touching the spot.

“I’ve seen it.” Catra rolled her eyes. “We change in the same room all the time, stupid. You don’t exactly try to hide it.”

“Right.” Adora looked back up at Catra in time to watch her cover the mark with shirt. Catra let out a sigh and plopped herself next to Adora on the bed. 

“What do you think they mean?” She asked.

“What?” Adora turned to her.

“The marks,” Catra stated.

��What makes you think they mean something?” Adora asked her.

“Because,” Catra shrugged. “You have one, I have one, theres gotta be something behind them.”

“We could ask somebody,” Adora suggested. 

“Right,” Catra laughed. “I’ll just waltz up to Shadow Weaver and tell her that I really want to know what this weird blue thing on my neck means.”

“We could ask someone else,” Adora nudged Catra’s shoulder. “Someone who doesn’t hate you.”

“Nah,” Catra leaned back on the bed. “The people here don’t answer things like that.”

“Well, then we’ll have to find out on our own,” Adora decided. “Together.”

“Right,” Catra smiled. “We’ll do that. Someday.”

“Promise?” Adora held out her hand.

“Promise,” Catra grinned as she grasped it with her own. 

After that Adora didn’t think much about the marks. They became one of the many little promised that tied her and Catra together—the promises that made up a bond she’d once thought was stronger than any force. Back then, she had no way of knowing how simply it would all be shattered.

Living in Bright Moon took some getting used to. Everything was different, and there were times where, despite everything, she found herself missing the life she’d had before. Still, she was grateful that even that quiet melancholy never made her question whether she had made the right choice. She was certain she was where she was supposed to be, she just wished that she understood why that made her heart feel empty.

Out of all the things that joining the rebellion and her new friends had brought her, Adora never thought that the answer to the question Catra had asked her back when they were children was one of them. She was in Glimmer’s room when it happened. She was trying to follow along with the story that Bow was telling them, while also mentally adding to the list of things she was going to have to later ask for clarification on.

Her eyes were scanning the room when they happened to land on Glimmer who was currently sprawled across her sofa. The way that she was lying made the hem of her pants ride up slightly, revealing a bright blue design on her thigh.

“You have one too?” Adora jumped up from the chair she’d been sitting on.

“What?” Glimmer started, looking up at her in confusion.

“That mark,” Adora pointed to her leg.

“Um, yeah?” Glimmer raised an eyebrow. “Everyone does.”

“Really?” That was news to Adora. 

She’d thought that her and Catra were the only ones. She’d never noticed anything like that tattooed on the rest of her teammates. Then again, she couldn’t remember ever being close enough to them to have noticed in the first place.

“They don’t tell you about soulmates in the Horde?” Bow gasped, apparently connecting the dots.

“Soulmates?” Adora looked from Bow to Glimmer.

“That’s just what people call them,” Glimmer sat up from the couch. “The marks are supposed to turn blue when you meet the most important person in your life.”

“Mine has always been blue,” Adora touched the spot on her arm where the mark was covered by her shirt.

“That means you must have met your soulmate when you were really young,” Bow told her. He held out the inside of his wrist. “See, mine is still grey.”

“It doesn’t technically have to be your soulmate,” Glimmer gave Bow a pointed look. “Sometimes, like for my parents, it’s the person that you’re meant to be with romantically, but for a lot of people it’s plutonic, sometimes it’s even unrequited.”

“But that’s rare,” Bow cut in. “For most people it’s romantic. People say that the mark actually mean the person’s name in First One’s language, and that they somehow created the link so that they could find their soulmates.”

“Which makes it confusing for us now,” Glimmer crossed her arms. “Since the only way we can know is keeping track of when it turns blue and some of us aren’t constantly staring at our marks.”

“She’s bitter about it because she doesn’t know who made her’s change,” Bow whispered to Adora.

“That’s not—” Glimmer suddenly paused. “Bow!”

“Um, yeah, Glimmer?” He gave her a confused look.

“The writing is in First One’s language!” Glimmer sprung to her feet before teleporting in-between Adora and Bow. “Adora can read First One’s language!”

Adora watched Bow’s eyes widen with excitement.

“We can finally find your soulmate!” Bow exclaimed, all but dancing around the two of them. “Adora what does Glimmer’s say?” 

Glimmer hiked her pants leg up enough for the blue design to be fully displayed. Adora focused on the lettering. She still didn’t understand how reading a language she didn’t know worked, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she could recognize the lines. Somehow they formed letters that melted into the language and alphabet that she knew.

Bow

“I can’t read it,” Adora blurted. “Sorry. It’s not working.”

“But you could read the door at that temple,” Bow reminded her. 

“I know,” Adora knew she wasn’t a great liar. 

Still, she wasn’t going to read Glimmer’s mark out loud with Bow in the room, not when she knew that his still hadn’t turned blue yet. They just said that sometimes soulmates could be unrequited. Adora didn’t want to be the one to tell Glimmer that she was fated to love someone who didn’t love her back, or Bow that his was destine to break his best friend’s heart. 

“It’s okay,” Glimmer put a hand on Adora’s shoulder. “Maybe we’re not supposed to know what the marks mean.”

“Yeah,” Adora quickly agreed. 

They let the subject go and for the rest of the day Adora tried to keep her mind off of wondering who’s name was written on her own arm. She didn’t want to look at it while Bow and Glimmer were around her, she could tell they barely believed her lie and knew that rolling up her sleeve to study her mark would give her away. That didn’t make it any easier to keep her mind off of it.

For as long as she could remember, her mark had been the shade of blue that it was now. That had to mean that she first met whoever her soulmate was back when she was too young to recall. It meant that they were in the Horde.

That made a pit form in Adora’s stomach. Shadow Weaver had taken her in back when she was a baby, there was no chance that she had met her soulmate before then. She told herself that this was okay. She had friends who cared about her, and a life that was finally her own. She didn’t need romance—even if she wanted it. 

It was only that night when Adora was sitting on her bed that she dared to pull her sleeve over her elbow and expose the blue design. She felt her breath catch in her chest, but, somehow she wasn’t surprised—somehow she had always known that the name her eyes were scanning really was the most important person in her life.

Catra

A soft knock on her door pulled Adora’s eyes away from writing. Quickly, she pulled her sleeve back down. That absence of it didn’t stop the cold longing in her chest. 

Longing for what? The girl she’d let behind? Adora had chosen to leave the Horde. She had chosen to do the right thing, and she still stood by that choice. She had made it clear to herself and everyone else that she wasn’t going to stand aside while others got hurt. She was better than that. She was a good person.

She just wasn’t good enough for Catra to come with her. 

“Adora?” Glimmer called from outside the room. “Are you asleep?”

“No,” Adora called back. “You can come in.”

Not bothering with opening and closing the door, Glimmer teleported to the middle of Adora’s room, then to next to her on the bed. There was a nervous look on her face. That wasn’t something that Adora saw in Glimmer often. Glimmer was always so confident and bright, right now there was a dark haze around her. 

“Hey,” Adora mustered a small smile. “Something wrong?”

“Can I ask you something?” Glimmer met her eyes now.

“Yeah,” Adora nodded. “What’s up?”

“Were you lying when you said you couldn’t read my mark?” Glimmer asked in a soft voice.

“Yeah,” Adora admitted. She’d promised herself that she would eventually tell at least Glimmer the truth. It was only fair to her.

“I thought so,” Glimmer’s hand made a fist in Adora’s bed sheets. “It’s Bow’s name, isn’t it? On my leg, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Adora uttered again. “I didn’t know if you wanted him to know. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Glimmer smiled now. It didn’t reach her eyes. “Thanks for protecting my feelings. Well, I guess both of our feelings.”

“Did you know?” Adora couldn’t help asking. “He said you had no idea who your soulmate was.”

“I had a feeling,” Glimmer sighed. “Okay, I guess I had to have known the whole time. I just didn’t want to accept it.”

“I’m sorry,” Adora wished that there was something else she could say.

“It’s fine,” Glimmer shook her head. “I can deal with it. I mean, he’s my best friend. That’s not going to change.”

“Do you want to tell him?” Adora asked.

“Not now,” Glimmer shook her head. “Not any time soon.”

“That’s fair,” Adora told her.

“I guess.” Glimmer closed her eyes. Adora realized that she was trying very hard not to cry. “What does yours say?”

Adora silently pulled up her leave again, as if the meaning behind the marking could have some how changed. Gingerly, she traced the lines that part of her wished she really couldn’t read. Maybe not knowing would have been easier.

“It says Catra,” Adora told Glimmer.

“That name sounds familiar.” Concern spread over Glimmer’s face.

“She’s the one we keep fighting,” Adora said bitterly. “I mean, it makes sense. For so much of my life she was the most important person to me. In a way, she still is. I wish I was that important to her.”

“You don’t know that you’re not,” Glimmer said softly. “Unrequited soulmates are supposed to be rare.”

“I asked her to come with me and she wouldn’t,” Adora winced. “She put the Horde before me. I can’t be her soulmate.”

Glimmer wrapped her arms around Adora. The hug didn’t warm the ice that had taken hold of her heart, but it made her feel a little bit less empty. For so long, the only person she ever hugged was Catra, but this didn’t feel like the fleeting embraces they’d stolen between training sessions, lectures, and punishments. 

“That means we’re in the same boat,” Glimmer murmured. “At least we have each other.”

“Yeah,” Adora hummed. “We’ll make sure we’re never alone.”

“Promise?” Glimmer asked softly.

“Promise,” Adora repeated.

She didn’t tell Glimmer that all of the promises she’d made before had died that moment that she told Catra she couldn’t go back to what once had been their home.

They didn’t talk about soulmates after that. Adora was slowly able to stop herself from dwelling on the meaning behind the blue mark on her skin. In a few days, Glimmer seemed back to her usual, cheerful self. Occasionally, Adora would notice a flicker of sadness in her eyes. At those moments, she did her best to remind Glimmer that they were in this together.

“It’s okay if you want to talk about it, you know,” Glimmer told her one night. The sleepovers were starting to become a regular thing. This time Bow had gone home for the night.

“I know,” Adora sighed. “Thanks. I just, don’t feel like I have to.”

Because once Adora had gotten over the shock of the universe’s confirmation at her and Catra’s joined fates, nothing had really changed. Adora had always been in love with Catra. She had been ever since they were children, and deep down she’d know that her feelings hadn’t severed when she left the Horde. That was the problem with feelings, you couldn’t just turn them off. 

But if there was one thing that Adora had learned from living in the Horde all those years it was how to solider on. Adora accepted that she loved someone who couldn’t love her back, someone who had declared herself her enemy. At least now, she understood all of that.

And then Catra let her go.

For some reason, Catra had given her sword back and let her and Glimmer escape, and as much as Adora’s mind was on finding a way to heal her friend she couldn’t shake the warmth that the idea of Catra maybe not hating her after all put in her chest. 

She still wasn’t ready for all of the emotions that she felt when Catra appeared at the First One’s temple. Seeing every tiny, important moment of their lives together literally flash in front of her eyes was hard enough, without her breath catching every time their hands brushed—every time Catra got just a little bit too close. 

It didn’t used to hurt like this. There used to be excitement, and the thrill of being this near to someone that she wanted so much, but now the only thing she felt was the dull pain of knowing that this could never be. Not anymore, maybe not ever.

It was that maybe that was driving Adora insane. Not knowing what was going on in Catra’s head was going to break her own. Wrestling with all the emotions that she’d felt as a child, and finally having the argument that some how Adora had known was building up between the two of them for their whole lives, made her snap. 

As Catra was about to storm away from her, Adora reached forward and grasped the collar of her shirt, pulling it down until the blue mark she had only seen once in her life was fully visible.

Adora

“What are you doing?” Catra shouted.

“It says my name,” Adora uttered. She felt like shock had completely seised hold of her. “I’m your soulmate.”

Then Catra was shoving Adora away, breaking her hold on the collar—not that it mattered now that the meaning of the mark was violently echoing in Adora’s mind. 

“You need to start making sense,” Catra all but growled out. “Now.”

“It’s a long story,” Adora stammered. Her brain furiously rewriting every moment, every encounter, they’d had since she left the Horde. All this time, she had still been the most important person to Catra. “But I can read your mark.”

“No,” Catra visibly stiffened. “That’s impossible.”

“I’m not lying, it says my name,” Adora took a step closer to her. “Just like how mine says yours and—”

“Yours does not say my name,” Catra hissed. It took a second for the understanding in her voice to sink in.

“You know what they are,” Adora felt stunned for the second time. 

“What?” Catra’s eyes widened. 

“You’re not questioning why it would say your name or what that even means,” Adora knew she was right. “You’re just getting angry, because you know that we’re—” 

“We’re not anything,” Catra crossed her arms. “And yeah, Force Captain Scorpia’s a princess, she told me what they mean. So I guess that’s one of the many promises you failed to hold up.”

“Catra—”

“Can we just focus on getting out of here?” Catra snapped. 

“Mine does say your name” Adora pressed. “I wouldn’t lie to you about it. You know that I wouldn’t.”

“No, Adora,” Catra’s voice was cold now. “I don’t know anything about you, anymore. Don’t you get that?”

“Well, you could actually listen!” Adora shouted. “And not act like me leaving was about you.”

“Oh, that’s great to know,” Catra laughed. It sounded broken and venomous. “My best friend that I’ve only been in love with since I can remember, who is apparently my soulmate, just abandoned me, but at least it’s not about me!”

“You’re in love with me?”

“Shut up,” Catra sneered. 

“You could have come with me, you know?” Adora took hold of Catra’s hand. “You still can. Catra, I—”

“I don’t want to,” Catra pulled away from her grasp again. “I want to stay in the Horde. Don’t worry, it’s not like that’s about you.” 

And then Catra was storming away from her and whatever chance Adora had or never had of getting the woman that she loved back was gone. What might have been hours or minutes later, when she was hanging for her life and Catra appeared before her, Adora finally felt her heart break. 

They were never going to be on the same side. There was always going to be this between them.

“I’m sorry.” Adora needed to say it. Even if she still wouldn’t change leaving, even if she’d never meant to hurt Catra, even if this was how it was always going to fall out, she was sorry.

“I’m sorry too,” Catra said softly.

“I love you.” Adora didn’t know if she’d get the chance to say that again.

“You know what, maybe we are soulmates,” Catra shook her head. “Maybe you do love me back. Maybe all of this wasn’t supposed to happen, but you know what, that doesn’t matter.”

Catra bent down and reached over the ledge. She grasped Adora’s arm and pulled her up, so that she was just close enough for them to see each other at eye level, but not enough for Adora to be able to pull herself to safety. 

“Because I am never going to be enough for you, you’re never going to put me first,” Catra said. “And now I’m not putting you first either.”

“Catra, wait don’t—”

Adora’s words were cut off by Catra’s lips meeting her own. She closed her eyes and kissed her back. She kissed her even though she was so close to losing everything, she kissed her even though this wasn’t going to change anything, she kissed her even though this was never going to happen again. Adora kissed Catra because she loved her, and at least now she knew Catra loved her back no matter how star crossed their fate was.

“Goodbye, Adora.” Then Catra let go.

[millioncth]

love me back - c.t.h (part 3)

a/n: the long awaited part three is here! i really hope you enjoy and again, i’m sorry if there’s any mistakes, engigh is not my first language. ALSO!! this is unedited and kinda rushed? anyways vvvvv angsty!! feedback is always cool!

part 1 - part 2

*

have you ever felt that pain that starts in your stomach and quickly creeps its way to every inch of your body, from your toes to the tip of your fingers? even though he was drunk, calum could still feel it consume his body. he closed his eyes hard hard hard, and held his head in his hands. barely processing the words coming out of his mouth, he spoke,

“is it because you’re with luke? is that’s why you don’t love me?”

truth is, he still was incapable of getting the image of them holding hands, walking out of the club, out of his hands. it was tattooed on his mind, in bright colors and with a needle he could still feel.

“what? i’m not dating luke! why would you think that?” she was beyond confused. still on her position behind the counter.

“but i saw you leaving with him last night!” he took a deep breath, and swallowed a lump he didn’t even realize that was forming in his throat. “please don’t lie to me, y/n. if you two are in a relationship, i need you to tell me so i can just back off”

she scoffed, “back off from what? from kissing me two times? from holding my hand when we hang out? oh, but that has to be in secret, because people can’t possibly find out that the calum hood is holding someone’s fucking hand!” she raised her voice; anger just splashed in it. at this point, calum had let silent tears make room on his eyes and drop down his face, but he just kept listening to whatever y/n had to say. “i’m not with luke, not that it’s any of your business” she sighed, her tone much softer than before, but not less angry.

“then why were you leaving with hi-”

“i was sad, okay? i was sad and frustrated and crying in the back of that fucking club and luke saw me and he brought me home! he was being a friend! why am i even explaining myself to you? ugh” she had walked over to the couch and sat down next to him, annoyed and exhausted.

“w-why were you crying?” he asked, eyes full of concern. she may not love him, he thought, but he still cared about her.

“because i love you, okay? i do, it’s just… i didn’t tell you because it wouldn’t make a difference okay? i do love you but it’s going to be the same outcome as if i didn’t” her voice groggy. she moved a little and placed her elbow on the arm of the couch, face resting in her palm.

calum couldn’t believe it, “you love me? for real?”.

to be honest, that was all he could register.

“yes” that was when y/n realized that it would make absolutely no sense to keep having this conversation. calum was drunk, he was slurring every other word, and probably wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning. after a brief silence, she got up, offering him his hand. “hey, let’s get some sleep, yeah? we’ll talk tomorrow”

he took her hand, stumbling around and letting her guide him to her room.

“you’re going to sleep with me? in the same bed?” he asked as she sat him down, innocence on his tone, the alcohol finally taking the best of him.

“yes, cal. now, you can sleep in your underwear and a t-shirt, okay?”

“okay” as he got rid of his pants, she climbed to the other side of the bed. “you’re so nice. i love you” he got under the covers, she looked past the i love you. “can we cuddle?”

she knew it wasn’t the brightest of all ideas. she knew she would feel loved only to be let down in the morning. but she also knew that she would get hurt no matter what happened that night, so she just nodded. he smiled big, and came closer to her. she made herself comfortable under his neck, and he hugged her like his life depended on it, a warm feeling in both of their chests.

calum knew that feeling wouldn’t last forever, but he didn’t want to think about it in that moment. instead, all he wanted to do was cuddle her and forget that he was an asshole; he wanted to be close to her, even if it was just that night.

“i love you” he whispered.

“i love you too”

*

the next morning, calum woke up with a headache, and little knowledge as to why he was in y/n’s room. his first instinct was to get up and leave before she could realize, but then he looked at her in his arms, peacefully sleeping, and subconsciously wished that he cold wake up to this every morning. he started to remember the night before, and he was angry at himself for not making an effort to even fight y/n, to tell her that they would be alright.

he didn’t know why he was like this. he really wanted to be with y/n, to be her boyfriend, to stay in with her as she does school work, to watch her concentrated face when she tries to finish up a song. but he couldn’t, he just couldn’t and it hurted. he had made himself so emotionally unavailable in the first years of his career, getting hurt by people who didn’t really love him, that it made him close up to any relationship. and now, this wonderful girl was ready to commit to him, to love him endlessly, and he was incapable of giving her what she wanted.

y/n looked so pretty wrapped in his arms, and he thought that she must be the most beautiful person in the whole wide world. she started to stir a little, the sun softly hitting her face and making her wake up slowly. as soon as she regained consciousness, she couldn’t help but sigh and look up to calum.  

“hi” he breathed out.

“hey” she pressed her lips together, every bit of doubt that she had could be seen in her eyes.

a brief silence appeared between the two, and cal couldn’t help but hug her slightly tighter, trying to make this situation last a little longer. but, when he saw the look on her face, eyebrows furrowed and sad eyes, he knew he had to address the issue. “so,” he started “about last night… i’m sorry, okay? i really am, because all of what you said was true”

she nodded slowly, trying to comprehend why this was hurting so damn much if she already knew how it was going to end. in the three or four years of knowing cal, he had never settled down with nobody, so why did she still hoped that this time would be different?

“it’s okay, cal. i… i understand” she whispered, not really trusting herself to speak louder.

“i just want you to know that i really love you, y/n. i just- i don’t wanna hurt you, and… i don’t wanna get hurt too, i guess” he looked into her eyes, empathetic as always, and for a moment he wished that she wasn’t like that. he wished that she yelled at him for being such a jerk, that she didn’t understand what he was going through, and maybe that way he would feel less guilty. because right now, y/n was taking the heartbreak almost as if she deserved it, and that made calum feel like crap, because all this pain was inflicted by him, and only by him, with no one else to blame.

“i love you too cal. but you’re not ready for a relationship and i get that. i respect it. i think it’s mature of you to not wanting to jump into something you’re not one hundred percent sure of” she said in a low tone, trying to swallow all of her feelings.

gently, she got out of calum’s embrace and to her drawer. she got out an ibuprofen and a bottle of water that was sitting on top of it.

“here,” she handed them to him “for your hangover”.

he didn’t know why that small action sprawled a sudden realization through his body. he took the pill and the water out of y/n’s hands, his bottom lip shaking and his whole demeanor changed into someone so weak, and so so lost. he closed his eyes hard hard hard.

“what’s wrong?” she asked, concerned by calum’s abrupt change.

“you’re s-so nice to me, it’s unfair”

“what?” she chuckled, sitting up next to him.

“what i mean is that you’re so great, so fucking great and pretty and amazing. and you’re so talented and smart, and you like the same things that i do. and you understand me, you get me. you’re so kind and you take care of me and you’re so perfect for me but i’m just such a fucking asshole. i don’t know why i can’t be with you, but it’s killing me and i’m so sorry. because yesterday you told me that you loved me too, and i couldn’t believe it, even though you told me you didn’t love me first, when you said it back i felt like i was on cloud nine so i’m sorry i hurt you, i’m really really really sorry” he blurted out so fast, his eyes full of regret, and his voice was choked, trying not to cry.

that morning would be the last time they both would talk alone for a very long time, and it ended with soft kisses, full of calum seeking forgiveness, and y/n forgiving him, even if it would leave her with a heavy heart for a long time.

*

y/n spent her summer busy: writing for a lot of artists, producing some tracks and helping the guys out with their new album. truth was, she kept herself busy in order to think about calum as little as possible. they all had been working really hard, and ashton decided that it was time to take a break. so, he invited the guys, plus their girlfriends, plus y/n to eat dinner and relax one afternoon in mid-august.

y/n agreed to go. she thought it was going to be a chill day, and she would get to hang out with her best friends and take a little bit of time off.

y/n sat between ash and luke at the large table. everyone was enjoying the food, laughing and having a good time. michael and crystal looked more in love than ever, and luke was so happy with sierra. it was nice to see him like this, y/n thought. after all, they all had seen him at his worst.

just as she was going to point out cal’s absence, he appeared a the door. everything was normal, until she noticed that he wasn’t alone. he had a girl in his arm. as soon as she saw her, she kind of zoned out, not wanting to hear whatever calum had to say, but she heard anyway.

“hey guys,sorry i’m late. this is my girlfriend, chloe”

chloe was a pretty girl. she was almost as tall as calum, and she had long brown hair. and all y/n could do was to smile and greet her, even if she felt all of her insides ripping apart.

of course he would be over her. of course. how could he not? it’s not like she tried to be a constant in his life. but she had hope. and for someone in her position, with the guy she loves being a star, it was dangerous. because, like that moment just proved, hope can be destroyed so fast.

they decided to sit right in front of her, and y/n couldn’t help but to shoot luke a look of help. everyone around her seemed to noticed how she was suddenly uncomfortable. everyone but calum and his girlfriend. thankfully, they didn’t ask her about it, restarting their conversations instead.

when they all finished eating, she excused herself and sneaked to ashton’s backyard. he sameplace where her and cal had their first kiss. y/n shook the memory out of her head, running her hands through her face and hair before sitting down and lighting a cigarette. taking a long drag, she closed her eyes, and tried so hard not to think about calum having a girlfriend. she didn’t even wanted to head inside for the rest of the evening, because she didn’t want to stare at calum’s general direction. she just wanted to forget about everything that happened between them, take every single moment they spent together and shove it in a box and throw it in the back of her closet and leave it there.  

her thinking time got cut down short by the last person she wanted to talk to in that moment.

“that hoodie of yours is full of burn holes” his voice said from behind her. she didn’t even realize that he was there until he talked, much like what happened with luke that night in the club.

“well, it is my smoking hoodie” she answered with a dry tone. “i guess i knew i was going to smoke a lot today” she said taking a last drag, and quickly lighting another one.

“woah, slow down there…” he sit in front of her. he almost continued whatever he was saying, but when he saw the deadly glare she gave him, he stopped himself.

he resorted to get out a cigarette himself, and patted down for a lighter, with no luck. when y/n saw this, she lit up her own, lighting the cigarette for him.

“i need to talk to you,” he said after a while “about chloe”.

that phrase made y/n roll her eyes so hard that it stung a little, but she let him talk. “go ahead” she said. “it’s not like i have much to lose, right?” her voice was barely above a whisper.

“y/n… i know that this was fast, after we talked… it’s only been two months. but she’s great, a-and i really like her” his eyes were pleading, almost begging for y/n to give him any signal that she approved of this, but he refused to meet his gaze, deciding to focus on one of the trees in the backyard instead.

“i get it, calum. i just…” she thought about telling him what she really thought about it, but determining it was better to keep her mouth shut, not wanting to cause any trouble. “whatever. i’m sure she’s great. i’m happy for you. excuse me” she muttered so fast and her face remained emotionless as she got up from her seat and quickly made her way inside.

“hey, ash” she tapped him on the shoulder “can i go lay down on your guest room for a bit? i have a headache”

“of course, love. tell me if you need anything. you know where the guest room is” he answered with kind eyes. she just nodded and headed upstairs, closing the door behind her once she reached said room, but not locking it.

she laid down on the bed, finally letting her stomach churn and her head daze in peace. she closed her eyes and breathed out hard, trying to get rid of the lump that was forming in her throat, and also trying to distract herself from the pain that was blooming in her chest and creeping its way into every inch of her body. it wasn’t until it reached her fingertips that she realized that she was in actual physical pain. at that moment, there was no point in trying to contain her cries inside anymore, so she started to let out silent sobs, and turning her body in a position where her face was buried in a pillow and her arms were under it. she stayed there until god knows how long, a soft knock at the door bringing her back to reality.

“y/n? honey, it’s us, open up” sierra’s delicate voice said on the other side.

“it’s open” y/n croaked out. sierra and luke let themselves in, the girl going immediately to check if her friend was okay, while luke closed the door and locked it this time.

“how are you feeling?” her sweet voice asked, while running her hands through her hair.

“like shit” y/n sounded rough.

“how dare he show up with a girl knowing you’re here? i swear that if michael didn’t stop me he would already have left” luke started to rant.

“it’s not his fault” y/n sat up, now sporting a real headache after all the crying.

“why are you still defending him?” luke sounded confused.

“because…” y/n took a deep breath “it’s really not his fault, guys. i mean, we are nothing. we don’t have a relationship. he made that very clear, that he didn’t want a relationship with me, that he wasn’t ready. i just hoped that maybe one day he’d be ready. turns out he is, just not for me” she sighed, her tone trembling. “but whatever, he’s happy i guess. and i have to respect it”.

both luke and sierra were frustrated at how calm y/n was about the whole situation, but they knew that she was like this. that she always put others in front of her. right now though, y/n looked so beat down, so done with the whole situation, so exhausted, that they decided it was best not to argue with her about it.

*

tag list:  @rexorangecouny @ruth-is-a-koala-bear @5secondssofssummer @mellany1997 @harringtonsblackgf @you-of-ghost @birdsbeesndaisies @pansexualpancakeslife @amandash113 @calumsbabydolll @juliabrghs @flowerchild8341 @calssunflower @inlovehoodx @sugarcoatedcalum @youmaycallmemrshemmings

[lordofassgard]

Play Pretend {Part 3}

Requested: | yes | no |

Pairing: Mark Tuan x f!Reader

Summary: life moves on but you don’t. and neither does mark

Genre: non idol!au, tattoo artist!au, angst, fluff

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: cursing, mentions of violence

A/N: so here’s part 3. is it still the last week of september? thank you @blizzardfluffykpop for the request and pls don’t hit me. next to be uploaded is jeonghan’s birthday scenario and then five times 2. hope you enjoy :)

masterlist in bio

gif credits to markiepoohismysunshine

Status: complete

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 find parts 1 and 2 in my masterlist

You didn't realize how much impact Mark had on you until you started to build yourself back up. After spending a week in bed surrounded by ice cream and tissues, you decided that it was time to move on. If Mark could do it, so could you.

You started by cleaning out your apartment, throwing away any traces of Mark's existence or memory. You brought home flowers, different ones. Sometimes sunflowers, sometimes daisies, but never lilies.

The tattoo on your wrist, a memory of Mark that was literally engraved on your skin, was hidden most of the time. In Samoan, tattoo means open wound and in a certain way, it suited your situation. To you, Mark was an open wound, maybe it'd always be, no matter how much you tried to cover it up.

It took some time, months until you could tell people you were okay without lying. You weren't completely honest, but there was some truth behind your words despite the feeling that there was something missing. Time would eventually teach you how to live like that, time would eventually give you something to trick you into believing that nothing was missing anymore and you were okay with that.

One morning, on your way to work you stopped for coffee. You ordered your favorite drink and when the girl behind the counter handed it to you, someone called your name. Turning around quickly, hoping you weren't just hearing things, you saw Yugyeom. Your breath hitched in your throat as you stared at the younger boy gripping your plastic cup tightly. He motioned you to approach him and you did. You weren't sure why maybe out of guilt.

“Have a seat.” He gestured towards the chair in front of him.

You hesitated, glancing between the chair and Yugyeom but ended up sitting down. You set your cup down and played with your fingers under the table, hoping the floor would swallow you whole.

“How have you been?” He asked, a cheerful tone in his voice.

“Uh, good. How about you?”

“Me too.” He paused “How are things with Mark?”

You tensed up at the mention of Mark's name. You hadn't heard it in a long time and it sounded worse coming out of Yugyeom’s lips after what happened.

“They…” You cleared your throat “They're not.”

“Oh, what happened?”

Something you loved and hated about Yugyeom was that he always asked questions no matter if it was the right time to ask them or not. In that moment, you hated it.

“He's engaged.”

“What?” His eyes widened “Since when?”

“Since...that night.” You paused “I was too late.”

“Why didn't you say anything? You didn't have to go through that alone.”

You almost started crying at his words. After all you did to him and after what he did for you, Yugyeom still managed to be kind. And for a second, you wished you could love Yugyeom just as much as you loved Mark. Things would've been so much easier that way.

“I was embarrassed.” You looked down at your hands in your lap.

Yugyeom took in your body language. You were tense but trying to make yourself smaller hoping that he'd magically stopped noticing you. With a sigh, he leaned forward on the table.

“You don't have to.” He reassured “We're still friends right?” You nodded hesitantly “Friends help each other out.”

“That's...really sweet Yugyeom. Thank you.” You smiled.

You glanced at the watch on your wrist and noticed that you'd be late if you didn't leave right away.

“I have to go or else I'll be late.” You got up and grabbed your untouched drink “It was nice seeing you Yugyeom.”

“(Y/N)” He grabbed your wrist before you had the chance to leave “Promise me we'll hang out one of these days.”

“I promise.” You smiled before saying goodbye and leaving the coffee shop.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・

You kept your promise. And that hang out turned into many more. Sometimes at your place, others at his and occasionally at another location where the two of you would do something that brought you lots of laughter and good memories for future moments, like bungee jumping or ice skating.

Yugyeom became a part of your daily life. On the days he left work earlier he'd always show up at the flower shop where you worked with food and coffee. On your days off, you'd show up at his dance studio and watch him interact with the kids, a fond smile on your lips.

You could even say that Yugyeom had an important role in your recovery. Your life was back on track and you were happy with it. But you weren't over Mark, far from that. Instead, you learned to live with his absence like you knew you would.

And things were going okay. That was until Bambam, the boy from the tattoo parlor, showed up at the flower shop. He was just as surprised as you, probably not expecting to see you and by the look on his face, you knew that he knew. Or at least what Mark told him. He could have lied for all you knew. Yet, no one mentioned it as he placed a bouquet of red roses on the counter and you rang him up as if he was just another customer. Because that was exactly what he was.

So it shouldn't have come as a surprise when Mark showed up at the flower shop a couple of days later. Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets and your breath hitched in your throat. He was slightly out of breath as if he had ran all the way there and it took him a few moments to get himself together. In the meantime, you were frozen, your heart beating fast in your chest as the pain from a few months prior started to get settled itself in your chest once again.

“What are you doing here?” Your voice sounded harsher than you intended it to be and you didn't miss the way he flinched at that harshness.

“I-I left her.”

“What?”

“I broke up with her. I…”

“Hey (Y/N), they didn't have your favorite frosted cupcakes so I brought…” Yugyeom paused mid-sentence when he saw Mark “What are you doing here?”

Mark, who had turned around as soon as he heard Yugyeom’s voice, clenched his jaw.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“You have a lot of fucking nerve showing up here after what you did to her.”

Mark took a step towards the younger boy, a threatening aura around him, but Yugyeom didn't back down.

“At least I don't follow her around like a lovesick puppy.” Mark retorted.

Something flashed in Yugyeom’s eyes before his fists connected with Mark's face. You gasped, and knowing Mark's short temper you knew he wasn't going to back down. And he didn't. Next thing you knew, Mark retaliated and Yugyeom stumbled back. Before things could get any worse, you set yourself in the middle of the two of them.

Mark's gaze dropped from Yugyeom to you as soon as you stepped in front of him, your back turned to the younger boy. The look in Mark's eyes, a look of pure love, made you never want to look away. But you had to stand your ground.

“Get out.”

“But…”

“You've done enough Mark.” Your voice sounded defeated, and maybe that was why he nodded.

And so he left with his head down, shoulders slumped as if he was carrying the world on his back and a nasty cut on his lip. You almost felt sorry for him. After the door closed, you turned to Yugyeom whose eyes were still trained on the door as if he was expecting Mark to come back at any second.

“I'm sorry.” You ran a hand through your hair in frustration “I had no idea he'd show up.”

“It's okay.” He reassured.

“Wait, come here.”

You grabbed his hand and took him to the back room to get some ice for his jaw. Your grandma, the shop's owner, always kept some ice in the freezer because you were really clumsy. For once, someone else would use it instead of you.

“What did he want?” Yugyeom asked after you held the ice pack against his jaw.

“He said he left her.”

“His fiancee?” You nodded “Are you okay?” He asked after a while.

“I don't know.” You sighed “I don't know how to feel about this.”

“Do you still love him?”

Your silence was the answer he needed. After all Mark did to you, after all the harsh things he said during countless fights you two had, you still loved him. It was almost embarrassing to admit it, it was like you loved the pain. The thing was, you loved Mark and that was enough reason to endure any pain.

Yugyeom used his free hand to pull you in for a hug, his fingers tangled in your hair as you cried with your face buried in the crook of his neck. Every once in a while, he'd whisper reassuring words that you wanted so desperately to believe in.

He left her. What were you supposed to do with that information? Run back into his arms? Congratulate him? Feel sorry for him? Feel relieved? There were so many questions that you wanted to ask but you wouldn't get an answer for. Your heart ached, but flowers bloomed in your stomach. He was free and the first person he thought about was you. Did he still want you back? And most importantly, did you want him back?

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・

If it wasn't for Yugyeom, you would've probably gotten back to the state you were in after you found out Mark was engaged. It was incredible how much Mark affected you. He had so much power over you and wasn't even aware of it. But truth to be told, you probably had as much power over him.

But you still couldn't forget the look in his eyes. How they went from glaring at Yugyeom to look at you as if you were the most precious thing he had ever laid his eyes on. And in that moment you wanted nothing but to cup his face in between your hands and kiss him.

It was frustrating and you almost went to the tattoo parlor a couple of times to give Mark a piece of your mind but always stopped yourself just in time. And maybe it was for the best because you didn't trust yourself, or Mark for that matter, alone in a room with each other.

“(Y/N)” Yugyeom snapped his fingers in front of your face to get your attention “Earth to (Y/N)”

“Uh, what?”

“I asked you about your day.” He repeated.

“Oh yeah. It was...okay, I guess.” You shrugged “How's your jaw?”

Gently grabbing his chin, you turned Yugyeom’s face to the side to check his jaw. The bruise was starting to fade away into ugly tones of yellow dotted with purple and red. It had been a few days since Mark showed up at the flower shop and luckily, you hadn't seen him since.

“Do you have any plans tonight?” Yugyeom asked, scoffing a few seconds later “Of course you don't, grandma.” He laughed when you gently hit his arm “I'm going out, do you wanna come along?”

“No.” You shook your head “I'm going to catch up on sleep.”

You hadn't been sleeping properly since Mark's visit. Besides, the shop had more clients than usual and you spent your days running around arranging bouquets, ringing up customers, doing inventories and ordering whatever the shop needed. It was needless to say, you were exhausted.

After you closed the shop, Yugyeom was kind enough to drive you home, the two of you singing loudly to whatever song that was on the radio, not caring how bad you sounded.

Later that night, you were snuggled in bed watching Netflix. It was still early but your eyes were already heavy. A knock on your door startled you. Glancing at the digital clock on your nightstand, you wondered who was at your door at 10:45 pm. Tossing the covers aside, you got out of bed shivering when your bare feet touched the cold floor. There was another knock on the door when you were halfway down the hallway.

“I'm coming!” You grumbled through a yawn.

You opened the door without looking through the peephole thinking it was probably your best friend or Yugyeom, who decided to call it a night earlier and keep you company. Instead, your eyes met Mark's and you almost closed the door on his face as a reflex.

“What are you doing here?” You asked once the initial shock passed.

“I want to talk to you.”

Did he actually have the nerve to show up at your door after what he did to talk?

“Please.” He begged.

You were about to say no, but one look at his defeated eyes and you moved to the side with a sigh allowing him to walk in. Sitting down at the kitchen table in front of Mark, brought you back to the last time you were in that spot. A lump formed itself in your throat but you gulped it down and sat up straight as if his presence didn't affect you.

“What do you want?” You spat.

You waited but the answer didn't come. Mark was just staring at you, frozen in his seat as if he had forgotten everything he wanted to say.

“I’m sorry.” He finally managed to reply “For everything.”

You raised your eyebrows, feeling anger coursing through your veins.

“Do you think…” You paused rubbing your temples with the tips of your fingers “That after all you did to me, you can come back here and apologize and I'll forgive you just like that?”

“No but…”

“But what Mark? Uh? You think I'll come crawling back into your arms so that you can push me away and go back to your girlfriend. I'm sorry...fiancee. You think I'm that stupid?” You got up, your chair scraping against the kitchen floor “You told me you loved me and then got engaged. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“You're right. I don't deserve your forgiveness. I was was a selfish dick and a coward who didn't own up to his mistakes. And believe me, I'm paying the price for it. But you have to believe me when I tell you that I never intended to hurt you and for that...I'm sorry.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard. His shoulders were slumped as he looked up at you, eyes glossy and bottom lip between his teeth. You had never seen him so vulnerable and you didn't like the idea that it was because of you. Tears welled up in your eyes at that thought and you rubbed your eyes in frustration.

“Aren't you tired of all this?” You sighed.

“I am.” He admitted “I'm tired of us pushing each other away and always ending up like this.”

“Then why do we keep trying?” You cried.

“Because we love each other.”

“It's not enough.” You shook your head.

“It is.”

Mark quickly stood up and walked over to you, cupping your face with his large hands. The smell of his cologne reminded you of a time where things were simpler and his warm breath fanned your face.

“It's enough because it's all we have. And it's all we need. This time without you has been...hell. I broke up with her because she’s not you. She doesn't have your smile, your laugh, your body, your personality. And the only thing I regret is not doing it sooner. Going home didn't feel the same because you weren't the one waiting there for me. And fuck, you'd be so nice to come home to.” He gently wiped away your tears with his thumbs “Please don't cry for me. I'm an idiot, I don't deserve it.”

Even though he was telling you not to cry, his eyes were still filled with tears that he was trying his hardest not to spill.

“And you're right, I don't deserve you or your forgiveness but I'm going to try my fucking hardest to make it up to you even if it takes me forever to do it. Because I love you and you love me and that's enough. It's always been enough. And I'm sorry it took me so long to realize that.”

Mark's eyes held hope as he finished his speech. You pried his hands off your face and watched as his face fell before you wrapped your arms around his waist and cried into his chest. He sighed in relief and wrapped his arms around you, his chest trembling as he silently cried in your embrace.

The two of you stood in the middle of your kitchen in each other's arms crying. After a while, you pulled away enough to look at him. His hands dropped to your waist when you leaned your forehead against his. Mark leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours but stopped himself allowing you to back off if you wanted.

“I need you to hear you say it.”

“What?”

“That you accept my apology.”

You hesitated. By accepting his apology, you had to be willing to put everything Mark did behind your back and trust him enough not to hurt you again. But you loved him and you wanted to be with him. It was like your head and your heart were fighting and you had to decide which one was right. But with his face so close to yours, you couldn't think straight like your mind was clouded by some mystic fog that only appeared whenever Mark was around that stopped you from being rational.

“I forgive you.”

Mark smiled before finally kissing you. Your body quickly responded to his touch even after so long. His hands gripped your waist tighter as if he was afraid to let go as yours played with the hair on the back of his neck. His lips were as soft as you remembered making you smile into the kiss.

When the two of you pulled away with a moan, swollen lips and lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, Mark opened his eyes staring at you lovingly.

“I love you.” He mumbled against your lips.

“I love you too.”

Hearing those words made your heart speed up in your chest. Never in your life, you had felt so alive. It was a feeling you never wanted to let go. With flushed cheeks, you hid your face in Mark's chest and closed your eyes as you listened to his heartbeat that was as fast as yours. For the first time in a long time, you felt peaceful and relaxed. So much, that Mark found it strange when you had been still for a while.

“Are you asleep?” He chuckled.

You lazily looked up at him and smiled.

“C'mon, let's get you to bed.”

Mark carried you to your bedroom and gently placed you on the bed. Before he could leave, you grabbed his hand.

“Stay.” You mumbled.

Mark nodded before taking off his shoes and slipping under the sheets next to you, immediately pulling you into his chest. Despite how tired you were, the two of you talked until the crack of dawn as you gently traced his tattoos with your fingertips. You fell asleep first when the first rays of sunshine came in through your open window, hair sprawled out all over your pillow, hands on his chest and legs intertwined with Mark's under the soft sheets. Mark watched you with a fond smile on his face as he resisted the urge to kiss you, afraid to wake you up.

Things were finally back to normal, if not better. It felt unreal but even if it was, Mark would cling onto it with every fiber in his body. And right before he fell asleep, as he fought to keep his eyes open just to look at you for a little longer, he knew that you were the one he'd always want to fall asleep and wake up next to.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・

Bonus:

Yugyeom found it weird when you didn't pick up the phone in the morning or answered his texts. So he decided to check it out for himself. With the spare key you gave him, he walked into your apartment at around 11 am and frowned when he saw your shoes by the door. Were you still asleep?

Silently walking towards your room, he noticed that there was someone else in bed with you and his eyes widened. Walking closer, he easily recognized the other person as Mark. The same Mark that broke your heart more than once.

Yugyeom felt himself getting mad until he noticed you. For the first time in his life, Yugyeom saw you peaceful you looked, even in your sleep you were happy, a small smile adorning your features. The same thing happened with Mark, his arms set around you tightly as if he was scared someone would take you away from him.

And as much as he hated Mark for what he did to you, he looked happy and so did you. He wasn't going to ruin that. So as quietly as he walked in, he walked out of your apartment making sure not to leave any traces of his surprise visit behind.

Yugyeom would never tell you what he saw that morning and he'd never tell you why he wasn't mad when you told him you were dating Mark or why he didn't hate Mark anymore, no matter how much that change of attitude confused you. Yugyeom was happy that you were happy and that's what mattered to him. Because after all, that's what you do for the girl you're in love with, isn't it?

feedback is appreciated :) i’d link my ask box but tumblr is a dick

[minbaepark]

Unfold [02/??]

Pairing(s): Poly!JiKook x Female OC

Genre : Angst, Smut, Pining.

Warning(s): Homophobia (in later chapters), Violence (in later chapters), Mature Content, Vaginal, Anal, and Oral Sex (Later Chapters)

AN: Ooof this should not have taken me so long, considering how short it was but this was stressful. My mind is all over the place right now, but I hope yall enjoy this chapter.

It was 45 degrees and dropping in the city and Jungkook had on was a pair of Grey sweatpants, a loose black shirt, and his favorite pair of Timbs. He debated on going to the little diner down the street and waiting for either his brothers or his former landlord to show up, but he didn’t want to run the risk of Kate using his absence as an excuse to not let him in.

 Defeated, he sat against the cold metal door, his arms folded securely in his shirt, which didn’t do much but ease the bite of the chill hitting his skin. He had received a call from Jimin a few minutes earlier and was silently hoping the older male would get there sooner. At least then he could sit in Jimin’s warm car until he could get inside to get his things.

If Jungkook was honest with himself, he was kind of relieved that this was all happening. As much as he wanted to prove he was grown enough to take care of himself, he enjoyed being taken care of by his brothers, especially Jimin. He always made sure Jungkook was happy and protected him no matter what

Even when Jungkook knew that Jimin was tired from the odd jobs he used to do before he got a job as a choreographer, Jimin would make sure that Jungkook’s needs were met. When Jungkook would come home from school with tears flowing from his big brown eyes and scratches on his face because some kids at school decided to pick on the boy, Jimin was the first one to storm out of the house in search of the person or persons who dared to make his baby boy cry.

 The more Jungkook thought about it, the more he realized he had depended on Jimin more than the rest of his brothers growing up. The relief that once filled him was quickly replaced with guilt. Jimin had his own little family with Kennie now, and here he was intruding in their life. For all Jungkook knew, Jimin might have left whatever he was doing with Kennie to go pick him up. It had happened more than Jungkook liked to admit. Whenever Jungkook needed something, Jimin dropped everything to give it to him.

 Biting his bottom lip, Jungkook tried to push past the feelings of guilt that slowly clouding his mind. Kennie never made him feel bad when Jimin left her side, but he still couldn’t help but feel guilty. He made his mind up that he wasn’t going to intrude in their life for long and made a plan to only stay there for three to four months tops. He wasn’t going to be a burden in Jimin’s personal life anymore.

 Jimin might not have been the oldest of their little family, but he took care of everyone. He constantly put their needs above his and honestly, they were all excited when he introduced them to Kennie. The guys knew that Jimin had dated, but none of them were serious, never lasting more than two months before he was on to the next person.

 Jimin was always putting up a front when he saw the others with their significant others, always saying that “he only had enough love for his brothers” which was farthest from the truth. Jimin had a big heart hidden underneath the tattoos and piercings.

 He had a smile that would light up the whole room and the way his eyes would turn to crescents when he found something really funny always made Jungkook’s heart do backflips. When Jimin was happy, Jungkook was happy. When Jimin was sad, Jungkook would cry along with him. He was that way with all of his brothers, but his bond with Jimin was stronger.

 Jungkook wondered if his other brothers thought he didn’t love them or loved them less. He didn’t. He really didn’t, it was just that it was Jimin. His Mini-Hyung. The first person to ever protect him, to love him. Of course, he was more attached to Jimin. How could he not be?

 Jungkook was so deep in thought, that he didn’t see Jimin’s matte black Range Rover pull up in the alleyway, nor did he hear the older man got out of the car and stride towards him. Jungkook didn’t notice Jimin until he crouched down in front of him and stuck out a black hoodie in the young man’s face. The motion damn near caused Jungkook to piss himself, but he quickly noticed the black dragon tattoo that decorated Jimin’s hand. He looked up and felt his heart flutter at the sight before him. Jimin was smiling his usual smile, crescent eyes and all, and Jungkook no longer felt cold.

 “Put the Jacket on before you get sick baby boy.”

 Jungkook grabbed the warm clothing from Jimin and slipped it over his head, embracing the warmth that soon began envelope his body. Jimin reached for Jungkook’s hands and proceeded to pull him up as he stood. “Let’s go wait in the car until that bitch gets here.” Jungkook nodded, following behind the shorter man. They quickly climbed into the car, blocking the chilly air from outside and giving Jungkook a chance to get lost in his thoughts again. Jimin’s attention was on his phone when he was properly seated, and Jungkook assumed he was texting the others or Kennie.

 Jungkook flipped the Hoodie of his jacket up, covering his face and rested his against the window, looking at nothing in particular. He lifted his legs, resting his feet on the on the dashboard of the car. He hummed softly to the music playing through the car’s speakers, hoping to ease the guilt in the pit of his stomach. He knew he didn’t have anything to feel guilty about.

 Neither Jimin or Kennie made him feel bad about invading their space, but either they were both too nice to say if he was or Jungkook was just being insecure again. Jungkook couldn’t help being insecure. He had been that way for all of his life but did a damn good job at hiding from everyone but his brothers. They knew him better than he knew himself sometimes.

 Through the years they told him he had nothing to be insecure about, especially once he started to bulk up. Jungkook was an attractive man. He had a killer smile and a face that was sculpted by God himself, but that little voice in his head told him otherwise. He didn’t seem to notice the way the women and men in his classes would stop and stare whenever he entered the room, their eyes roaming up and down his body.

 He didn’t seem to hear the hushed whispers of lust from his students whenever he would lift his shirt or when he that look in his eye when he was dancing. Jungkook was blind to all of it, so blind that he didn’t notice the way Jimin was looking at him, pure adoration and love in his eyes. He didn’t notice when Jimin snapped a photo of him with the intent of letting the others know that Jungkook was safe and sound in his vehicle, but ended up saving it in his phone with the other photos he took of the young man.

 Jimin knew Jungkook was in his head again. He could see the Jungkook’s furrowed brows and the way he was worrying his bottom lip. Jimin wanted nothing more than to kiss away the worried expression on his face but decided against it. He reached over and ran his fingers through the soft strands of hair that poked out of the hood of his jacket instead. Jungkook’s focus turned on to Jimin, who offered him a warming smile as he watched the younger man’s expression.

  “You wanna talk about it, whatever is troubling you?” Jimin asked, pulling his hand back reluctantly. Jungkook felt his flush as pink began to dust his cheeks. At that moment, he hated how easy it was for Jimin to read him. He knew if he said no, Jimin would let it go until Jungkook was ready to talk about, but Jungkook also knew that he would also worry until he did.

 “I’m sorry Hyung, I’m intruding.” Jungkook muttered, looking everywhere but Jimin’s face. He could hear Jimin sigh heavily and felt the car move as Jimin shifted in his seat, turning his full attention to Jungkook. “What do you mean you’re intruding?” Jimin’s sounded exasperated with Jungkook, which only made the younger male feel worse. He had upset Jimin and he knew it, so he didn’t respond, instead focusing his attention on his shoes like they were the most interesting things at the moment. “Kookie…baby boy….what do you mean?” Jimin asked again, his tone softer. Had he done something to make Jungkook feel that way? Did he say anything to make him feel like that?

 Jungkook let out a shaky sigh, feeling hot tears prick his eyes. He could feel a panic attack began to rear it’s ugly head and was trying to calm himself down. Jimin noticed the way Jungkook’s chest began to rise and lower faster, his breathing coming out harsher, as his eyes seem to glaze over with a look of panic washing over his face.

 Jimin knew where this was going. Jungkook used to get panic attacks really bad when he was younger, but he had gotten better over the years. Jimin watched as tears began to slid down his cheeks and got out of his side of the car running over to Jungkook’s side.

 He swung the door open and pulling the younger man out and pulling him into a tight hug. He felt Jungkook relax in his embrace as the Jungkook rested his head on Jimin’s shoulder. Jungkook was a couple inches taller than Jimin, but he always felt so small and safe in his embrace. Jimin rubbed the young man’s back and whispered positive affirmations in his ear like he used to do when this happened.

 Once Jungkook began to calm down, the cynical part of him wanted to laugh at how this must have looked. The “bad-boy-tough-guy” image he built of himself on the internet completely gone. He was weak; a fake, at least that’s how he felt in this moment. He sighed heavily for what felt like 100th time that day and just melted in Jimin’s embrace.

[waypathfinder]

Crimson Lane - Chapter 8 - The Client

Moodboard by @ashtyntaytertot  Beta’d by @kathknight and @ashtyntaytertot

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Chapter Text 

A howling scream ripped Rey from her sleep. Faint at first, teasing her out of her slumber, infiltrating her dreams.

Her eyes shot open, disorientated as to where she was or what was happening.

“No! No! Stop!” a high-pitched voice shattered through the night air.

Rose!

Rey bolted upright, ready to leap out of bed when a strong hand pressed down on her shoulder.

“Stay here.” The voice was deep, so rich and tactile that she could almost feel it brushing against her ear.

“No, I want to—” Kylo Ren’s dark shape disappeared out the door. “Help.”

The darkness heightened Rey’s senses; she could hear the fan of a laptop working in the corner, see the dim shadows reaching out like fingers across the bedroom.

She wouldn’t wait any longer. She wasn’t helpless..

Grabbing her robe, she pulled the door open and almost ran straight into Rose.

“Oh God, it’s just you,” Rose said, clutching her hand across her heart.

“Rose, was that you screaming? What happened?”

She didn’t need to answer, Rose’s eyes were red-rimmed and wet, her pink camisole torn in four different places and there were angry scratch marks across her arms.

Rey’s jaw tightened and she scrunched her hands to fists, nails digging into her palms.

No one hurts Rose. No one.

“Who did this to you?”

“I don’t know, it was that new guy, Dathomir something.” Rose stifled her cries, hiding them with deep, heaving breaths. “He got really violent out of nowhere. He pulled a knife on me and… there’s something wrong with him.”

Her words denegrated into a babbling string of sobs and incoherent words. Rey put a consoling hand upon her shoulder, wrestling with the overwhelming desire to run down the hall and unleash her last seven years of martial arts training on Rose’s client.

A loud crash came from down the hall, followed by the sound of shattering glass. Rey’s heart leaped in her chest.

Kylo had gone to help Rose. Was he still in there with that psycho?

A horrible feeling coiled in her stomach.

Why was it so quiet now? What if he was hurt, or worse?

She had to go and help him. She could hold her own in a fight. If Kylo was bleeding out at the hands of some crazed madman while she stood there and did nothing—

“I’m going to help him.”

“No, don’t!” Rose’s voice rose in alarm. “Kylo can handle it, trust me. He’ll roast me alive if I let you go in there.”

“But he could be hurt—”

Another crash, this time louder and more violent, as a bloodied man with dark hair spilled into the hallway as though he had been spat out. His knees buckled and he threw his arms against the wall to lessen the impact.

“Kylo!” Rey gasped, clutching her hands to her mouth in panic. But when the man looked back at them, she saw his teeth were filed into points and his face covered in black, angular tattoos.

He pulled himself to stand and hissed at them with a murderous scowl. Rey stepped before Rose, reaching her arm in front of her friend protectively. And then Kylo stepped out, chest heaving. Their eyes met across the distance and Rey could breathe again.

“I want my money back!” Dathomir shouted, spitting blood onto the floor.

“You’ll get your money back.” Kylo shoved him down the hall. “Now, get the hell out of here.”

Dathomir swung around, his hands clenched in a fist as he attempted one last blow at Kylo, but he was too slow as Kylo kicked him in the chest, sending him flying down the stairs and hitting the wall at the bottom with a dull thud.

“Phasma! Get this wanker out of here and fucking blacklist him!” Kylo roared down the stairs.

Dathomir’s grumbling protests came from below, but soon after, the door slammed shut and he was gone.

“You alright?” he asked, looking at Rose, who seemed to have lost the use of her voice, mouth agape and sniffing. She answered with a rushed nod.

“I’m sorry, that escalated really quickly,” Rose said, her tears finally subsiding.

“It’s okay,” he said stiffly. “Are you finished for tonight?”

“I still have two clients left.”

Kylo looked away from her in silent thought.

“Tell Phasma I said you’re done for tonight.”

“It’s okay, I’ll be okay.”

“Rose, go home.” Kylo’s voice was so tender and empathetic, Rey had to check the words were coming from him. “Go home to your daughter.

“Here.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out some notes and placing them in Rose’s trembling hand. “Take this for a cab ride home, and some extra to cover the loss of your earnings.”

Rey could have hugged him; but instead, she stood there at a loss for words, watching as he turned and left them alone, retreating into the darkened room, the glow of his laptop screen lighting up his face.

Rose gripped Rey in a hug. “What the hell just happened there?”

Rey shrugged. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t know what Rose was talking about. Kylo’s actions had been surprising and gentle, and above all, kind.

And kindness was not a word she would have associated with him, ever.

Once Rose had left, Rey sauntered back into the room.

Kylo was sitting at his laptop at the desk by the wall, fingers on the keys.

Tap, tap, tap, click. The quiet sounds filled the silence. Rey watched him from the door. He was impassive and focused, as though the act of painting the walls red with another man’s blood was nothing new to him.

Who are you? she thought as the door closed quietly behind her. His run-in with Dathomir hadn’t appeared to shake him, not even a little.

Job done. Problem removed.

Cold.

But not entirely heartless.

She shivered. The bedroom fire had died out, the muted embers straining through charcoal and ash. She thought back to the first night they had slept together, when he had pulled her into his body as though they made up a taijitu. Two halves of a whole.

But what would happen now, would he make her get back on her knees and finish him? That was what she was here for anyway, a fact she sometimes forgot.

She sighed; she should go to him. It could be worse. He could be worse. Instead, he was strange … intriguing. Like a black hole, a shadow of darkness, dragging her closer and closer.

She took a step, the cool timber of the floor smooth and distracting beneath her feet.

He shifted in his chair, back straightening. She had been studying him for far too long.

The force of his gravity lured her like a moth to the flame, calling one foot in front of the other. She stopped behind him, close enough to run her fingers across his shoulders and he stiffened, sensing her. With a series of clicks, the browser windows disappeared, fading into black.

***

A gentle breeze slipped in from the window, shimmying in beneath the curtain. Rey could feel the rapid beating of her pulse and the sound of his breathing, her awareness heightened by the absence of light.

She reached out tentatively and put a hand on his shoulder. He breathed in sharply at the touch, almost flinching at the gentle way her fingers skimmed against his skin.

His hand closed over her own, and Rey felt like there was a storm inside her, the rumbling of thunder, loud and wanting. How could his touch both ground and elevate her?

She took a step closer, feeling like her heart was trapped within a cage, beating hard against the walls of her body, trying to break free.

He pulled the palm of her hand against his cheek. It was soft beneath the stubble, long and smoothe

And then he —

Did he?

She was sure she felt the brush of lips at her fingers. They were soft, teasing and tender. And then he released her, hands falling gently by her side, warm with the heat of electricity.

“Are you coming to bed?” she asked, hating the way her voice wavered with uncertainty, terrified that beneath the question he would know what she was really asking him: That despite everything, that traitorous body was yearning, clenching to be in his arms, to roll like waves upon the ocean.

He turned on her, peering up at her face. The light of the street lamps gave a soft glow to his eyes. There was such a haunting beauty about that face, how could she not have noticed before?

“Are you working at the restaurant tomorrow?”

She paused nervously. “Yes. ten ‘till three.”

“And then you start here at six pm?”

“My shift starts at five. They like us to be here to set the room up.”

He nodded, contemplating her words. “So where does sleep factor into all of this?”

“It doesn’t,” she answered with a sleepy smile. Even hearing the word “sleep” had started her yawning. “But it’s okay, I don’t need to—”

He raised a questioning eyebrow. “Get some sleep, Rey.”

Then he turned his back on her, returning to his work.

Rey hesitated. He was paying for her. She squeezed her lips together, brow furrowing, hating herself for what she was about to do.

“You don’t seem to be getting much bang for your buck,” she said at last.

“You noticed?” He made an odd sound, almost like a muffled laugh, before he turned around to face her.

But Rey was not laughing, or smiling, in fact, she was trying very hard to hide the underlying sting that had been manifesting ever since he pulled away from her on the first night. Perhaps he didn’t desire her. She was small-breasted, with a body she often thought of as boy-like. She wasn’t sexy. God knows why Phasma thought she would be good at this job… but here he was not using her. Not that she wanted to be used in that way, but, like, really?

“What’s the matter?” he asked, bemused, almost innocent.

Rey rolled her eyes and pouted. Really? Was he going to make her spell this out?

“You—” The words failed her.

“Yes?”

“Do you no—“ Shit, this was awkward.

He leaned forward, peering at her from beneath his brows, eyes dark and curious.

Rey held her arms stiffly by her side and took a deep breath.

“Do you not want me?”

Kylo stared back at her; unblinking, his expression unreadable.

“Are you asking me if I want to have sex with you?”

She wanted to die, bury herself in a hole somewhere and hide there forever. She opened her mouth to speak, but her capacity for language seemed to have fled. So instead, she just nodded.

“Err.” He couldn’t even meet her eye.

He was stalling.

Fuck! He was trying to come up with some excuse, and even in this light, she could see he was blushing at the confrontation.

His awkward silence was deafening and Rey shrank back.

“Good night, Kylo.” She went to hide under the covers of her bed, but as she turned, he had leapt out of his chair, reaching out to stop her from walking away. When he captured her wrist, he tugged it gently, forcing her back.

She was dying, her face burning with a scorned blush that stretched from her cheeks all the way down her chest in giant blooming blotches. Her lashes skimmed her cheeks as she kept her eyes glued to the ground, hiding her humiliation and the fact that she was genuinely upset. It was dumb to care, she shouldn’t care, but it was hard not to.

“Rey, look at me.”

Did she have to? Couldn’t he just let her slide away and hide for the rest of the evening beneath the covers? A gentle nudge of his thumb lifted her chin and she was forced to see the way he was enraptured by her.

His eyes were consumed by the black depth of his pupils, those wide, soft lips parted as he leaned towards her, radiating a primal hunger.

Rey struggled to breathe properly, as the briefest touch of a smile formed on his lips.

“Of course I want to.”

“Then why don’t you?” She looked up at him and swallowed again.

“Why don’t I what?” he asked, leaning more into her, his black gaze darker and hungrier than ever before.

“Say it!” he growled into her ear, as the pulsing desire threaded through her veins, pumping blood between her legs.

She blinked. “Why don’t you have sex with me?” Her soft voice quavered only a little less violently than her knees as his dark eyes narrowed in on her, head tilting, face curious.

“I’m waiting,” he answered with that expressionless face.

“For what?”

“For you to want me to.” His low, rumbling voice echoed into her mind and for a moment in time, he captured her in his gaze, locking her in place.

Waiting.

She looked away from him, screaming at that wild desirous part of her body that wanted to throw herself at him, to tear off her clothes and lie back on the bed with her legs spread, wet and waiting for the weight of his body to bear down on her, for him to crush her in his embrace, for—

What the hell was happening to her?!

“Okay,” she whispered softly.

“Okay?” he asked, his right eyebrow arching as a nervous tick twitched beneath his eye, reaching his hand to cup around the curve of her waist, smooth and silky beneath the satin robe.

“I mean, okay, good night,” she said, flushing profusely as she backed away from him in a rush. “Night, Kylo!”

She turned away quickly, her body sliding into bed as though it had turned to liquid. Once in bed, she noticed he had gone back to work, seemingly oblivious whether she was here or not.

She watched him for a long while, listening to the melodic tapping of his fingers on the keyboard. She fell asleep like that, watching him work.

With only a few hours before dawn, Kylo closed his screen and stood, muscles stiff from the hours he had spent researching the past, and paths of the future. As he rounded towards the bed, he was arrested by Rey’s sleeping form.

How could she have thought he had not wanted her? He’d never wanted anything more. A soft moan escaped her lips and he was reminded of … things.

His body reacted, aching for release.

He couldn’t trust himself to be close to her, to feel her body fit snugly into his. Not yet. Not with this overwhelming desire within him.

He made a beeline to the bathroom and turned the shower on, soaking beneath the torrid flow of scalding water.

Visions of the past, the first time he had pulled her clothes off, touched her, ran his fingers through her hair, into the warmth of her core…

He reached out, palm pressed hard against the white tiles, the other hand reaching below. Grasping firmly, he thrust his hips as his hand pumped hard and fast, building the friction to match his desire. The visions of her arching her back as his mouth pressed between her lips, the wanting cries building in crescendo.

God how he wanted her, wanted her in every possible way a man could want a woman. His breath came heavy in his lungs, the muscles in his arm tiring sharply as the wave of release shuddered through his body.

He collapsed against the wall, panting, throbbing, the water dripping down his hair and face.

Eventually, he turned the shower off, staring into the mirror, his face flushed from the effort of his secret endeavours. He breathed in through his nose, filling his chest.

He couldn’t touch her. Not now. Not after what Maz had told him. Not until he was sure that she wanted him to.

But fuck, he wanted to.

If only she knew how much.

He slipped in beside her, wrapping his large arms around her body and drawing her into his chest. She didn’t even stir.

“Rey?” he whispered and waited, but her only answer was the rise and fall of her chest, the slow soft breaths puffing from her parted lips. He stroked the loose strands of dark hair that had fallen across her cheek, clearing a space to feel the soft warmth of her skin.

Perfect.

“Life has been cruel to you, Rey,” he whispered, “but not anymore.”