#the bed and desk are where theo spends most of his time so i spent forever on them. his bed needed to be overwhelmed by stuff

[mattodore]

theo’s bedroom is slowly coming together

[luverofralts]

Arkhelios Adventures

"So here's your new accommodations. You won't have a roommate here, we keep a low enough population so they're never needed. We find it's best that every student has their own space to perfect their skills."

Leofric Fromm gestured excitedly at the room Theo was staring at in bewilderment.

It was larger than the room he shared with Adam in Pleasantview, but far more empty. There was a desk and bed and easel and that was about it.

"I don't want to be here," Theo declared. "I need to be in Pleasantview. I need to see Adam. Maybe the coven changed their minds. I should try calling them. They might want me back."

"I'm afraid that that's not going to happen," Leofric replied. "The coven will not change their minds until you have made progress. You haven't even spent a single day here. You can't rush things as important as this. Pleasantview has stood for millennia, it will still be there when you are ready to return."

"Can I at least talk to my boyfriend? You guys must have phones here, right? Or even a computer?"

Leofric laughed. This was clearly a question that he answered a lot.

"Not for students. Not at your level, at least. We take a traditional approach to education here. Many of our students require some degree of privacy from the outer world, and student like you don't need the distraction from your studies. How will you ever learn to control your abilities if you are texting your friends and spending hours on the internet? We have arranged for you to talk to your parents once a week as a video call. You will be required to make the call from the office, where all of our technology stays. Many students don't have that accommodation, you should be thankful. Your aunt and step-father are both very persuasive people."

"And Adam?" Theo had listened to everything the counselor said, but there was nothing about the most important person he had to talk to.

Leofric laughed again seeing the look on Theo's face.

"Ah, young love. You remind me so much of my own daughter, never any time for her family, just her friends and romantic partners. The life of a teenager is rather narrow in its focus. Your boyfriend is not part of your accommodation, I'm afraid. The two of you together is what brought you to us in the first place. You can never learn to control yourself if the object of your desire is still within reach. By learning who you are without Mr. Darktide, you will learn who you can be when you do reunite. All it would take is a spark between you two, a moment where your emotions get the best of you perhaps, and you will put him at risk for further injury."

"Further? What happened? Is he okay? I need to talk to him! No one will let me even call him!"

"I know it's frustrating," Leofric said kindly. "I'm afraid that I don't have any information on his condition, only that he is alive and apparently still sharing a connection to you based on your entrance exam. Be patient. Our students don't usually spend more than a year with us. We are a quick stop in their lives, and they live out the rest of their lives in a better place than they would have alone. I'm sure that you'll be able to see your friends in no time. I'll let you unpack and get settled. There is a kitchen on the third level with prepared meals if you're hungry."

Leofric left the room, leaving Theo alone for the first time in what felt like forever.

"Yeah, that's not happening," he muttered to himself. "I'm getting out of here."

Theo opened the door to find a glowing sigil waiting for him in the hall. Obviously the school didn't want him wandering around unsupervised. Then how was he going to get the food that Leofric promised? He surely had to leave his room to do that.

When Theo's mind thought about the kitchen and how he would probably starve to death because he was magically forbidden from leaving his room, the sigil on the floor dimmed bit by bit until it seemingly vanished.

"Yes! Freedom!"

As soon as Theo took a step out of the door with the intention of escape, the sigil snapped back into place, glowing as fiercely as ever.

"Ah, intention based security," Theo groaned. "We don't learn how to beat those until fourth year."

If this system could even be beaten. Everything in this place seemed both ancient and cutting edge. He didn't even know what country he was in or what kind of society he had entered.

His heart sank when he realized the truth: he wasn't breaking out of this place any time soon. He had raw power on his side, but this place was old enough for the sovereign to have attended for a semester as a teen. He was no match for centuries of experience dealing with teenage demons. Plus them having knowledge of his true name was brutal. Every warning his teachers had ever given him about protecting that name suddenly made perfect sense. His only hope of escape was to once again change his true name...which only happened once a lifetime, if at all. He did his best magic when Adam was around and it had been Adam who helped him change his name accidentally in the first place. If Adam were here, he might have a chance. But alone? Theo got the feeling that he was going to be stuck at this school a very long time.

"Fine."

Theo stormed back into his room, hoping to find a way to contact the outside world. He tried his en suite bathroom, only to find what he could only assume was a spell put in place by the school. Either that, or its previous occupant was trying to leave him a message, however disturbing that was.

Theo slumped onto his bed, completely frustrated and angry with himself. He should be powerful enough to escape this place. He should be at home instead of worrying if Adam had been seriously injured. He should be in Pleasantview with his friends, not wherever the hell this place was.

His parents had to be miserable without him. It had been the hardest goodbye of his life so far having to leave them for an unknown amount of time. By the time the school had opened the portal for him to enter, Roman was visibly holding back tears while Abe was so choked with emotion, he hadn't been able to get any of the words he wanted to say out. Their goodbye hug had lasted several minutes, until the portal started glowing menacing colours. Theo even missed his siblings, though he'd never admit to it.

Once classes started, the days began to pass quickly enough. If Theo thought he had homework in Pleasantview, he was sadly mistaken. Here, there was nothing else to do but homework. His classes weren't heavily populated and many times Theo wouldn't see the same classmate until days later. No one seemed to have a consistent schedule of classes and many of his classes were just one on one instruction with a teacher or a teacher's assistant.

Alys even taught him a few lessons, such as energy manipulation and exercises to calm his mind. She barely spoke to him when it wasn't their approved teaching time, but Theo kind of preferred it that way.

His second week, Theo had the bright idea to use his lessons on manipulating his emotions and magical focus into escaping his room at night. He succeeded in making it to the ground floor entrance...

...only to be returned within a blink of an eye to his room, and a stack of new lessons and homework piled next to him as punishment. Centuries of unruly students had tested this school and made it near impossible to escape. Even Remy would probably have a difficult time sneaking out of here and she boasted about being able to sneak out of anywhere.

Buts thoughts of Remy inevitably led to thoughts about her brother, spiraling into a depression every time. Did Adam think of him often? Was he okay? Had the coven explained to him why Theo wasn't in school? Did he hate that decision as much as Theo did? Did he even want to see Theo again after what happened?

It didn't seem like his questions would ever be answered. If he closed his eyes and tried to control his senses like he was learning to, Theo could maybe still sense Adam's place in the universe. Their weak connection was a guide, pointing him in the right direction to find the reassuring warmth of Adam's spirit. It wasn't strong enough to communicate with him, but feeling what he hoped was Adam's presence gave Theo hope.

With no phone, computer or television, there wasn't much to do aside from read or finish homework for entertainment. An easel had been left in the room and Leofric would often encourage Theo to try it. Painting was a form of self expression and could display his complex inner world for others to understand him better. It could be a relaxing outlet or just a way to pass the time between classes. Abe had once tried to teach Theo how to sketch, but neither of them really had the time to dedicate to it. Saturnia loved to draw with her siblings at the craft table, if Theo got home before she was a teen, maybe he could share his new hobby with his sister.

At the rate he was going though, Saturnia might be the one showing him how to paint.

[farfromharry]

Birthday Girl | Dad!Mob!Tom Fic

Summary: you just wanted to spend your birthday with your boyfriend, but when that isn’t possible he has a lot of making up to do.

Word count - 3,277

Warnings - violence, language

a/n - i don’t really like this but oh well🥰

Tom always started his days early, one of the downsides to not being able to predict what would happen in your ever so dangerous job. You hoped that today of all days would be different. Surely he’d let you wake up next to him on your birthday, cuddled into his chest, or at least wake you up before he left, even just to give you a quick kiss and a happy birthday.

You didn’t get any of that. When you finally opened your eyes just before 9, you were met with a lonely bed, Tom’s side being exceptionally cold, meaning he’d be gone for a while.

You rolled over so you didn’t have to keep looking at his empty side of the bed, now noticing the small gift on your nightstand.

Tom was a very traditional man, he liked to give you love notes and letters every so often, rather than sending a text with it all in, he felt like it meant he was trying harder.

You reached over and picked up the piece of paper, unfolding it to see Tom’s messy handwriting scribbled all over the paper.

Sorry I couldn’t be there baby,

be home by 2, ask Harry for a lighter.

Happy birthday my love x

Tom

You sighed, smiling at the thought he put in, even if it wasn’t exactly what you wanted. Your eyes landed on the cupcake sitting on the side with a single candle sticking out of it.

Not yet feeling like getting out of bed, you picked up your phone, sending Harry a simple text asking if he’d bring you a lighter to light your candle. While you waited, you replied to a few birthday messages from friends and family before heading to Tom’s contact to send him a thank you text.

Thank you for the cupcake and the letter x

You weren’t expecting a reply. Tom was notorious for forgetting or being too busy to text people back, so you’d learnt to simply not expect too much.

There was a gentle knock on your bedroom door a few minutes later, Harry entering with a certain awake little boy on his hip. Theo grinned when he saw his mummy, his chubby little hands reaching for you as soon as his uncle stepped through the door.

“Hi bubba,” you cooed, unable to stop your voice changing pitch into a so called baby voice.

Harry didn’t hold back his laugh as he let you take the boy from his arms, watching as you placed kisses all over his face until he was babbling with baby laughter.

Harry held up the lighter, letting you see that he was about to light the candle for you. You sat up more against the headboard of your bed, not caring that Harry was seeing you in your lazy pyjamas. You shifted Theo so he was sitting better in your lap, moving your legs into a criss cross position so Harry could sit down.

“Happy birthday, Y/N.” He held the cupcake up for you to blow out the candle, letting out a little cheer when the flame went out.

“Thank you.” You took the cupcake from him, taking out the candle and placing it on your side. You took part of the icing on your finger, holding it to your son’s mouth so he could try a little bit. You knew he wouldn’t be able to take a piece of the actual cupcake, but you felt bad for not sharing.

“Do you want some?” you asked Harry, receiving a headshake in response.

“I’ve been instructed to take you and this little man,” Harry teasingly tickled just under Theo’s chin, the boy trying to wiggle away from the touch. “to breakfast, seeing as Tom can’t.”

At the mention of Tom you felt your mood decrease, trying not to show your disappointment to Harry, even though the male had already guessed you’d be quite upset, even maybe angry with his older brother.

“What’s he doing?” you asked, obviously referring to your boyfriend. Harry shrugged, flashing you a sympathetic smile.

“I have no idea, you know how Tom is.” You nodded, plastering on a fake smile. “Anyway, go get dressed and then we can go.”

Harry left pretty much straight after that, but not before he gave you a hug and placed a brotherly kiss on your head, very loudly announcing that he was ready when you were.

You very strategically laid Theo in the middle of the bed, watching him carefully with every move you made, just so he wouldn’t fall off of your bed. As soon as you were dressed in some warm winter clothes you moved on to attempting to get your baby boy ready, knowing it was already going to be a challenge.

“Your turn.”

In almost no time you were ready to go, most of the time taken being spent on getting the little boy into his clothes for the day. He wasn’t exactly a fan of the process of putting on numerous amounts of clothing. However, it was cold in London and you didn’t want your 10 month old baby to freeze.

Harry hadn’t told you where he was taking you, not at home, or on the car ride there. It was only when you stopped in the car park that you realised you didn’t even recognise it.

“Where are we?” you asked, moving out of the car to start unbuckling Theo from his car seat.

“Tom suggested it actually.” You knew that probably meant he had connections inside, but you couldn’t blame the place, because who wouldn’t be scared of a dangerous mob boss who could shut you down in a heartbeat. On your way inside you tried to lighten the mood, well, your mood rather than Harrys.

“This place is fancy, are you spoiling me Holland?” He chuckled, giving his name to the host who then led you to your table. They generously set out a highchair for Theo to sit in, so the boy wouldn’t have to stay in your lap the entire time.

Part of you was worried that he’d cry at some point, annoying all the, what looked like, stuck up middle aged women in the restaurant. Harry tried to reassure you it was fine, your boy was an angel and you knew the only sounds you’d hear from him were his adorable baby babbles.

“Did Tom really not tell you what he was doing today?” Harry rolled his eyes. He thought you’d want to forget about Tom for at least an hour just so you could enjoy your birthday breakfast with your friend, but apparently not.

“No, he said good morning, fed Theo and then left.” He was being completely honest, because Harry was a horrible liar and you’d know if he wasn’t telling the truth. All he knew was that his older brother had some dirty work to do and would be back home around 2 that afternoon, in time for the small party you were throwing with your friends and family.

Harry ordered a bottle of champagne, your eyebrows raising as you glanced at the time on your phone screen.

“It’s 11am.” He shrugged his shoulders, a small grin on his face as he amused Theo.

“It’s your birthday, live a little.”

It didn’t take long until you were feeling slightly tipsy. Being practically a single mum due to the ridiculous hours that Tom worked, meant you never got the chance to go drinking with your friends, or drinking at all. So even the littlest bit of alcohol was enough to have you giggling more than normal.

Theo noticed your unusually bubbly energy that he hadn’t seen since he was a few months old, his hands reaching for you with a smile.

You gently kissed the backs of his tiny hands, smiling as you did so. Harry was glad you were enjoying yourself, feeling a little bit like he’d accomplished something because he hadn’t seen you like this since Theo was born.

Harry was first to notice the people heading over to your table with a cake in hand, confusion setting in deep. He nudged you so you turned your head, your eyebrows furrowing into the same expression Harry held.

“We didn’t order that,” Harry stated, looking at the cake in confusion. The chef waved his hand, calling nonsense.

“Mr Holland requested we bring it out, for the birthday girl,” he explained. You looked at Harry with a raised brow, silently asking if this was his doing. When he shook his head it pretty much confirmed what you thought on your way in, Tom has connections here.

“I didn’t-“ he started.

You cut him off, flashing him a tight lipped smile. “I think he means Tom.”

You gratefully accepted the cake, thanking the older gentleman greatly. You and Harry came to a silent agreement that you’d both eat it there, taking your cutlery of choice and taking a first bite.

“I hate that this is really good.” He could sense your annoyance from where he was sitting. He was partly failing at the task he’d been given by Tom, keep you occupied and happy for the morning. Although you were occupied, you were definitely not happy.

“It’s a sweet gesture,” he tried to defend his older brother. You scoffed, beginning to grow really annoyed with Tom’s actions.

“Yeah, he’s doing everything but actually being here.”

»»——⍟——««

The ringtone of Tom’s phone came blaring out right as he yelled the threat at the man, his eyes rolling as he let it ring.

Tom had been at this for too long and he was beginning to get bored. He wanted answers, simple. He wanted to know who made the threat and where they were, and he was making it his mission to find out.

He had Harrison making calls every time the pathetic excuse of a man in front of him blurted out a name in the midst of pain. But each one led to a dead end that only infuriated the mobster more.

“Just tell me who it was,” he finished his demand with another strong hit to the man’s face. He looked back at Tom with a bloody smile, his eyes catching sight of something behind the male.

“Pretty family you’ve got there.”

Tom didn’t even have to look to know he was referencing the picture on his desk. The one where you were holding a giggling 4 month old Theo while on a picnic with Tom, kissing the little boy’s cheek.

“Don’t even look at them,” Tom hissed. His threat was followed up by another hit that caused the man to groan. Tom shook his fist, noticing the marks starting to appear on his knuckles.

His phone rang again, interrupting the hundredth threat Tom was about to make. He rolled his eyes, motioning for his best friend to answer it for him.

The mobster got back to the task at hand, letting the phone call drift to the back of his mind while it was the least of his concerns. He was getting ridiculously frustrated with the man in front of him, not having planned on this taking most of his day.

“Just give me the right name!” he demanded, his voice level growing louder and louder with each word.

“Tom,” Harrison muttered, placing the phone back on the grand desk. He looked over his shoulder at his right hand man with no trace of amusement in his face, silently telling him that now was not the time.

“You’re late,” he simply stated. His eyes widened when he caught on to what he was saying, looking at the clock to see it was 2:10, 10 minutes after he said he’d be home.

“I haven’t even got her gift,” he rambled, looking at Harrison in distress.

“You go, I'll sort this out, catch up with you later.” Tom nodded, thanking him.

“Fuck, i’m late,” he cursed to himself under his breath, grabbing his stuff together and ignoring the pleads of the man on the floor in the middle of the room. He halted and motioned for Harrison to grab him. “Keep him somewhere until I get back, and don’t let him die.”

With that he left his office, rushing out of the building to his car with the intent of making it to you as soon as possible. He truly had wanted to spend the entire day spoiling you, but business called and when a poorly executed threat came in, threatening his family moreso, someone had to be dealt with.

Tom would’ve arrived quicker if he hadn’t had to make a quick stop first. He’d taken your present to get resized because he knew it wasn’t going to fit, and the only time he could pick it up was today.

»»——⍟——««

Tom made it home just before 3, being met with his angry mother standing right by the front door. Now Tom wasn’t scared of much, he couldn’t be in his line of work, but an angry mum definitely scared him to death.

“You’re late,” she seethed, slapping his arm with whatever it was she was holding. Tom sighed and retreated further into the house like a puppy that had just been scolded, taking his gun from his holster and making sure to lock it in his safe.

“That poor girl is up there thinking you aren’t coming.”

That made his heart ache, a frown growing spreading on his thin lips. His mum tried to tell him to leave you be, to let you get ready with your friends in peace while he helped set things up.

“Where’s Theo?” She pointed him to the kitchen, where Tom found his youngest brother cradling a cranky baby boy. Theo was crying, ignoring Paddy’s attempts to get him to quieten down.

“Here, let me take him,” he offered, relieving his youngest brother of the agitated baby. Tom held his son to his chest, patting his back and quietly cooing in his ear.

His cries quietened down after a little while, happy to be in the arms of his dad. Tom swayed with him, pressing kisses onto his head until his baby was bubbling with laughter.

“Yeah, are you okay now?” He lifted him up in the air, slowly lowering him to blow raspberries on his clothed belly. The boy squealed loudly, reaching for his dad as though he wanted to do it again.

Through the excitement, Tom hadn’t noticed you standing in the doorway with a small smile.

Your heart fluttered at the sight of your boyfriend being silly with your baby boy. You didn’t really get to witness moments like this as of late, so seeing Tom smile like that with your bub was something to cherish.

“Come on, we’re bringing out the cake.” In his defense, Paddy didn’t know you were upset with his brother, so pulling the both of you into the kitchen and placing you next to each other was honestly an innocent gesture.

You were still slightly annoyed with Tom. The fact that he’d put his work before your special day really hurt your feelings, but you weren’t going to cause a scene in front of everyone, so you very stiffly leaned into his embrace, forcing a smile on your face.

Tom rubbed your shoulders, muttering a quiet apology in your ear as he kissed your head.

“Happy birthday to you,” you groaned, covering your face with your hands out of embarrassment. You always hated getting sang to on your birthday, you never knew what to do in the moment, choosing instead to cringe at your awkward stance as you looked around at your friends, more specifically Sam who was holding your birthday cake.

Once they’d finished singing, you blew out the numerous candles, making a wish in your head. Theo placed one of his baby kisses on your cheek, Tom following his son’s actions with one on the top of your head.

You made sure to thank everyone, letting them make their way to various parts of the house where the ‘real party’ was set to begin. Seeing as Tom had been the one to set this up, there were of course more mobsters, along with their wives, that he was doing business with.

He’d left to go and mingle with said mobsters, once again talking about business, business that could wait for another day.

Nikki found you and Theo sitting in the kitchen alone, wrapping her arm around your shoulders.

“Why don’t you let me take him, go get a drink, have a break,” she offered. You thanked her, allowing her to take the little boy into her arms. She thankfully headed towards his uncles, who were far away from any of the awfully dangerous men in the room.

Your eyes roamed around the area, noticing that there wasn’t particularly anyone you wanted to talk to right now. You grabbed yourself a glass of champagne, the same one that you’d had at breakfast with Harry, and headed out to the patio.

You didn’t happen to be alone for too long, your boyfriend finding his way out to you when he couldn’t find you anywhere in the house.

“What are you doing out here?” You didn’t have to even look to know that voice belonged to Tom. The man strolling over to you in his fancy, expensive suit.

His hand slid around your waist, pressing his front to your back so there was no space between you. You leaned your head back, resting it on his chest with a sigh as you looked over the luxurious gardens of Tom’s mansion.

“Just wanted some air.” You weren’t exactly lying. You felt like everything inside was just becoming too much and then seeing Tom working just topped it off.

He sighed, sensing you weren’t in a particularly great mood right now. He pressed a few lingering kisses to your temple, trailing his hands to your arms where he rubs them up and down your skin.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there this morning,” he whispered, placing a kiss just behind your ear. You just hummed, not exactly paying attention to what he had to say. He sensed that, letting out a soft sigh.

“Can I at least give you my present before you completely shut me out?” You rolled your eyes at his choice of words, mumbling an ‘I guess.’ You heard a little bit of shuffling behind you.

“Y/N.”

You turned your head over your shoulder, seeing Tom down on one knee on the floor. It felt like your heart had stopped beating and you were too occupied with the dopey smile on his face to even notice everyone watching from inside.

“I know you’re a little bit mad at me right now.” You giggled, willing away the tears that were tempted to fall down your cheeks. “But you know I love you, and I’m so grateful for you giving me the best thing in my life.”

He didn’t need to say much else, no more than those 4 words.

“Will you marry me?” When he opened the ring box you noticed the fresh bruises littering his knuckles, making a mental note to go at him about those later. But for now, you just nodded, unable to speak without letting out a sob.

He slid the ring onto your finger, placing a soft kiss to the back of your hand before he stood up. You wrapped your arms around his torso, burying your head in his neck so you could cry without everyone seeing. He chuckled, his hands threading in your hair, kissing your forehead.

“Happy birthday, darling.”

“The best birthday.”

tom holland taglist - @seutarose @lmaotshollandd @photoshopart15 @hopelessly-harry @bvttercupbby @call-me-baby-gir1 @fallinfortom @strawberrytom @siriuslyslyslytherin @musicalkeys-blog @itstaskeen @icyhollands @tpwk-grande @zspideyy @chrisosterfield @givebuckyhisplumsnow @lowkey-holland @hollandcrush @wizkiddx @sannie-san-shine @sonnydoesrandomshit @hopeless-romantic-baby @dummiesshort @itsbieberxholland @lillucyandthejets @piscesparker @mymilliefrommarketing @spideyspeaches @kujokura @l0velyevans @jess-holland23 @holland-parkers

[barzzal]

I loved your last blurb 😭 would you consider doing a part two? Maybe reader takes their son and is gone by the time mat gets back

read part one and part three here

maybe it was the fight or flight thing. maybe it was everything mat said. either of those, you just didn’t care. not anymore.

as you carefully put your sleeping son in his car seat, all equipped with his picture books and stuffed animals, you place his bag on the other side, making sure you have everything you need.

it was a good hour after mat left but his words were still stuck on your head. you weren’t the kind of person to bail on the people you love especially when it’s your marriage with mat. sure, you fight every now and then, but isn’t that how marriages are supposed to work? you fight and argue but make up in the very least.

in your case, however, was it still worth making up?

the only thing you know now is the fact that you couldn’t bear to see your husband. you weren’t in your right mind to face him. much more fight him again.

you can’t help but think about all the unsaid maybe’s you didn’t know you had in the first place.

maybe it was all too much. maybe all the changes happening in your lives all at once has been all too overwhelming for him. maybe you had mistaken the joy theo had brought when he came for something that would later blow up on your face— exactly like what happened an hour ago.

you kiss your son, still unfazed with his eyes shut in deep slumber before you climb onto the driver’s seat and start the car.

as you pull out of the driveway, your quiet house stares right back at you as if it was the ghost of what had been for you and for mathew. maybe he was right. but until then, leaving would be a better choice than admitting he was right all along.

mat has spent the entire drive thinking about the things he said out of spite. to say that he wasn’t thinking was an understatement. he didn’t know what got into him not until he heard his words out loud.

he knew that he hurt you and he knew it would take a lot for him to make it up to you. he hated himself for letting his pride and ego get a better hold of him, making him forget what it meant to have you to come home to.

as he stare at the pub across where he was parked, his work phone catches his attention. he hasn’t been able to check it in a while being that the boys often hit him up on his personal phone and the two of you didn’t really need to communicate through that phone because let’s be honest, you live under the same roof; and mat has gotten used to the tedious routine that the two of you have for most days.

when he scrolls through his messages, he sees a number of unopened voicemails from you from over a week ago. he must have been too busy practicing to even notice.

your voice embraces the insides of his car as he tapped on the latest one.

it was dated two days ago, when the two of you fought about him not being able to attend one of theo’s after school events.

“hey, babe. i– i just wanted to say i’m sorry about last night. and i’m sorry i had to go to work so early. but don’t worry, i already dropped theo at the daycare, and there’s also some breakfast left for you on the table.” mat had to wait for a little while for there was a sheer silence behind the call, assuming that you were off driving to work at the time.

“anyway, know that i didn’t mean any of the things i said. you’re a good father, matty. and you’re the greatest husband anyone could ever hope for. i’m beyond lucky to have you. let’s... let’s try not to fight anymore, okay? i love you.”

he lets out a deep sigh before moving onto the next one which was dated from last week, when he forgot to stop by the grocery store to pick up some fruits that theo wanted and of course, the dinner you had told him to make because you still had a lot going on at work.

that night, when you came home after having an absolute bad day, you saw mat lounging on the couch and with theo beside him eating all sorts of junk that would only make him all hyped up to even care about going to bed.

at the sight of your husband with a cold beer in his hand, the other caressing your uncleaned little boy, you failed to contain your bottled frustrations and ended up pouring it all over mat.

“honey, could you pick up some raspberries on your way home? i’m quite stumped at work right now and i don’t think i can make dinner— so could you pick up something off for theo? don’t worry about me, i’ll just grab some on the drive. please don’t skip dinner, alright? and don’t forget to drink that green thing you asked me to make for your morning practice tomorrow. i’ll see you boys in an hour or two.”

as soon as he got over all the mails you’ve left, the realization of who you really were in his life hit him. perhaps, even a little too hard– just enough to make him rev up the engine to turn his way back home.

you weren’t just his wife or someone he comes home to after a taxing day. you were y/n. the glue that holds everything together. the reason behind why despite having a kid around, he still manages to do dumb and stupid things and act like he was still some big-shot bachelor in the city because you, the woman he promised to have and to hold, was doing everything in her might just to make ends meet, just to make sure the family you both once dreamed of having wouldn’t end up spiraling like everyone else’s.

too bad mat has only realized this now, for as he opened the front door, instead of the well-lit room that used to welcome him everytime he came home, was instead replaced by a pitch black hallway with a deafening silence mathew was definitely not fond of.

“babe?” he calls out the moment he turns on the lights.

he starts walking towards the living room, seeing everything still in place exactly how he left it a while ago. when mathew came to the kitchen, instead of the image of you making dinner, the sight of your silverware neatly placed on the corner of the island you left to dry was what greeted him.

“baby?” he calls for you again, this time a little louder, panic evidently rising from within him.

mat strides his way, almost running for the stairs.

he opened theo’s room, all the same, untouched and well-kept. but how could it be his son’s bedroom when neither him nor his clothes were in sight?

sure it was a dumb thing for him to do but he still did it anyway. the pang in his chest begins to linger everytime he calls for your name and you weren’t there to answer, to come running in his arms like you used to with your tousled hair pushed back into a messy bun, your mom clothes, and your all too familiar scent. 

no matter how hard mat tried, he had nothing.

once he got into your room, instead of you spending the night reading on your side of the bed with only your night light on, what mat saw was the horror of not having you around anymore.

your closet was empty, and so was your work desk. all were alienated by the sight of a y/n-less house.

mat couldn’t do anything else as he failed to support himself and fell onto the bed, staring at the whole room— quiet and so not like the one he was used to seeing.

the walls stare right back at him rather mockingly. as if it knew how fucked up his life was about to become. as if it knew what thoughts mat had running in his head at the moment.

mathew anxiously buried his face in his palm, unsure of what to do next. the only thing going on his mind, if you might ask, is much like what you had in yours, playing like the same old busted vinyl record.

this house will never be a home unless you were in it.

[sayonarasanity]

Reverberation

Chapter V

link to AO3

Chapter 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

notes: the song that will be mentioned in this chapter is She's a Rainbow by Lola Marsh and also here is the Spotify link. I highly recommend you to listen to it especially while reading that part. it's truly an incredible song

The first year of high school passed by in the blink of an eye. Between the adjustment of classes, advanced math, and literature, teachers of idiosyncratic character treats and a variety of teens in the class he didn’t even understand the period between September and June. If he was being honest there wasn’t much noteworthy difference between middle school and high school except for the lessons and maybe some physical changes among his peers as well as himself. Save for the height part. Apparently, he wasn’t gifted like that giant Mike or the very sophisticated Erwin Smith.

There was nothing much to do during the summer break. He worked alongside his uncle in the market to at least gain some money and not spend his whole time lying on his bed, sweaty and gasping for a breath while a single leaf on a tree begged for a tiny breeze to make it wiggle. He read some books, watched some TV shows, played soccer with the other boys in class; Mike, Erwin, Oluo, Guther, Eld and even Moblit when or if they were around. Went to the beach with the same squad in addition to girls like Petra, Nifa, Nanaba and Hanji.

Most of his time was spent with Hanji, of course. On the roof, in the attic, in each other’s rooms, sometimes at the library—because the heat didn’t stop Hanji from being a complete nerd—and sometimes she helped him in the market while stuffing his mind with countless  mind-blowing  topics.

And so came the second year of high school.

And it took Hanji only two weeks to be late for the first class in the morning.

“I can’t believe you actually slept in,” Levi told her after she came inside the class during the break, gasping, her face flushed red possibly from running, hair dishevelled and absolutely not  combed,  and sat down on her desk in front of him.

She was trying to adjust her breaths as she turned over to face him. The dispersed, brown strands were covering her face, some of them had stuck on her reddened cheek and forehead. After the not so successful haircut, Levi had given her, she had also gotten bangs. Courtesy of her mother. “I was reading a book last night.”

“And?” He raised a brow.

She pushed the glasses up, and leaned in closer, putting an elbow on top of his desk. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“What kind of book could possibly make you stay awake all night?”

“It’s called The Blind Owl.” She shivered as if a chill had gone through her body. “It was the most disturbing thing I’ve ever read. And the thing is I couldn’t stop reading it because it was also ridiculously intriguing,” she sighed and rubbed her eyes under her glasses. “It cost me my sleep though.”

“That bad, huh?” Levi asked, but it was obvious from the dark circles under her eyes.

“I mean, it wasn’t that bad actually. It was masterfully written for sure. It was just—”

“Disturbing.”

“Yes. There is no other word to explain it.” She ran a hand through her dispersed hair, but her fingers got stuck between the knots. Then she looked at her wrist and groaned frustrated. “I forgot my hair tie.”

One of the things the almost six years of friendship with Hanji had thought him was to collect the items she had a habit of forgetting, mostly in his room. He had a drawer full of her lost, black hair ties. He kept a few on his pencil case or sometimes, like today, he carried one of them on his wrist. “Here,” he said extending it to her.

“What would do without you?” she whined as she took the tie from him.

“You wouldn’t survive a day,” Levi pointed out. It wasn’t even half-joke.

“Agreed,” she nodded. She had finished tying up her hair. Now her face was more on display, the flush on her cheeks was nearly gone. Levi realized that her nape was not covered with the too-short strands that couldn’t make it into her sloppy, little ponytail.

His hand moved instinctively, naturally even. “Your hair has grown long again,” he told her with a frown. And when his fingers touched her bare nape, she winced quite clearly for his frown to get deeper. He retreated his hand upon her reaction.

Her hand held the place he had barely touched seconds ago and when she noticed his expression she laughed. “God, your fingers are cold.”

Levi folded his hand as a fist, pressing his fingertips on his palm to see if his fingers were indeed cold as she had said. His body temperature was low, it was no news to him but at the moment his fingertips was not that cold for her to give such a reaction. Maybe because she had run here it was her body which was unnaturally hot, he reasoned, not really satisfied but he would accept it for the time being.

“Do you want me to cut it?”

“No,” she objected, avoiding his stare. “I’ll use it like this for a while.”

Her hand went on rubbing her neck, it seemed like an almost unintentional, absent-minded motion at this point.

“I made some research,” Hanji said when the silence got a little awkward for their standards. She then looked through her bag with both hands and slammed a wrinkled piece of paper on his desk.

“What’s this?” He examined her inelaborate handwriting but couldn’t understand the overall concept of what was written. Meanwhile, Hanji brought a pen over the page and underlined two words that were written in capital letters.

ROSE and SINA.

“These two are the best universities of the country,” she started to explain. “Both in terms of education and in terms of different opportunities for students. Student clubs are very much active also the campuses are huge.”

Levi had heard of the universities of course. They were named after the cities they were located in. Sina was almost three hours away from their town and Rose was even further in the opposite direction. But they had to leave the town at some point if they wanted to receive a good education. As Hanji had told the two of them were probably their best options and if they manage to keep their grades high enough there was a chance for both of them to make it into the same university. But, which one?

“But?”

“But” she carried the pen over the word Sina and drew a circle around it. “Since Sina is a technical university, I think it is a far better option for us considering the departments we want to study.”

Levi hummed thoughtfully. She did have a point.

“Also,” she continued, eyes glittering. “Great professors like Keith Shadis, Theo Magath and Darius Zackly are teaching there. Imagine the lectures…” she shrieked with excitement and wiggled in her seat. “It’s gonna be so fun!”

Levi shook his head at her quite early thrill and snatched the pencil out of her hand. He drew an arrow to the word Sina and wrote elegantly above: GOAL. “Sina it is then.”

Hanji took the pencil back and while nodding she scratched the word he had just written and instead, bringing the pencil a little to the crosswise she wrote: DREAM.

She looked at him then as if to confirm, with a bright smile on her lips and eyes full of the glitter of the dream she held so close to her heart. It was contagious. Levi felt his lips curling up, and maybe a tiny bit of that lustre in her eyes had reached out to his own. And he thought that maybe it wasn’t that hard after all.

How naïve, a sly, foreign voice whispered in the back of his mind. Little boy, how naïve.

-

“So, what’s going on between you two?”

Hanji lifted her eyebrows upon Nifa’s question and moved her stare to whom the question was directed. Nanaba gulped her bite with seemingly a little more force than necessary and blinked innocently at Nifa. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” Nifa wiggled her brows, smirking mischievously at their suffering friend. “You and Mike.”

Petra hid a chuckle behind her hand as Hanji bit her cheek inside to stop her smile from shaping so obviously. They were sitting in the backyard of the school on an arbour for lunch. There was still for about half an hour until their next class and from the looks of it, Nifa had decided to use it for some gossip.

“Nothing,” Nanaba answered nonchalantly then she brought the straw of her peach juice to her mouth and took a very long sip. Hanji didn’t miss the faint blush on her cheekbones. “We’re friends.”

“You’re a little too close for being friends, don’t you think?” Nifa asked with a sweet voice, dropping her chin on top of her intertwined fingers, smiling.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Nanaba brushed her off, taking another bite from her sandwich.

“Stop tormenting her, Nifa,” Hanji interrupted just as Nifa was about to say something else. “She can tell us when she feels like it.” Hanji then smirked at a very pissed Nanaba, who was glaring at her so hard Hanji thought she could catch flames just by responding to her stare.

Suddenly, someone dropped something in front of her with a loud “pat” and Hanji looked down, startled, to a packet of chocolate milk, then looked up to a frowning Levi.

“Did you eat?”

“Yep!” Hanji rested her chin on her palm and smiled at him. “Did you?”

He nodded silently and gestured at the milk standing on the wooden table. “You’re gonna pay me back for that later.”

“Stingy,” she murmured as he turned his back to her. Hanji saw the other boys gathered up around a bench a little away from where she and the girls sat. And before Levi went too far away, she shouted behind him, “When shall we meet again?”

He glanced at her above his shoulder. “After school,” he said, flatly.

“Come on, Levi!” She lifted her chin from her palm, disappointed. “You should’ve said “when the hurly-burly is done”, I thought you were better than that!”

He turned his whole body to her this time, walking backwards. A smirk played on one corner of his lips, midday sun caught his eyes, and her heart skipped a beat. “And you should’ve asked, “in thunder, lightning or in rain?” I thought you were better than  that , genius.”

Take him and cut him out in the little stars.

Levi was beautiful. Hanji recalled the day she had first realized it, the faint yellow leaves and the crackling sound of fire. The realization had hit hard, and she couldn’t have understood the reason why right away. It was startling that was for sure but after some thorough and logical consideration, she had decided that it was all about being a teenager.

It was that simple. Thinking a boy was beautiful was natural. Besides, it wasn’t just Levi. Erwin, for instance, was attractive. With a sharp chin, bright, blue eyes and that shiny yellow hair that always looked so soft like cotton. He wasn’t necessarily beautiful though but attractive still, handsome even.

And he will make the face of Heaven so fine.

Levi turned his back to her again and Hanji snorted, opening the straw of her chocolate milk. “He got me bad.”

When she put the straw between her lips for a long sip, she realized the silence that has settled on the table and when she took a glance above her glasses, she saw the three other girls looking at her.

“What?” she asked after gulping.

“What’s with you two?”

“Huh?”

It was Nifa again and this time the question was directed at her. “You and Levi?”

Hanji blinked, trying to reason her question. “What about us?”

“You seem close,” Petra added instead of Nifa. Her hazel eyes curious as she observed Hanji. “Like real close.”

Hanji frowned and pushed her glasses back to their proper place. “We are best friends.” They seriously hadn’t understood it for a year?

“I bet everyone thinks you’re dating,” Nifa said laughing.

Oh? “That’s ridiculous,” Hanji said, shaking her head. “Why would I date my best friend?”

Nifa shrugged, and Petra looked thoughtful. “How long have you been friends?”

Hanji didn’t know why but she felt her stomach curl. “Since we were eleven.”

Petra hummed and the conversation seemed to be over like that. Hanji chewed the plastic stick thoughtfully and with distress, she couldn’t find the reason why. The curl stayed solid in her stomach, sharp and insistent. Absently she noticed that Petra was staring somewhere with a strange expression in her eyes and when Hanji followed her stare, she saw Levi standing in front of the bench the other boys were sitting. Mike who was standing next to him had wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and he looked content, his features relaxed, his black hair looked smooth touching his forehead.

That all the world will be in love with the night.

Goddamn Juliet, she thought bitterly, frowning she took her eyes away from him. Goddamn Shakespeare.

*

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

It was Wednesday afternoon on a nice autumn day. Near them was a tree slowly getting peeled off its leaves, and the clouds were reflecting the orange light the sun created. It was also reflecting on her ginger hair, making it shine almost yellow.

“I, uh…” Petra cleared her throat, squeezed her hair behind her ear as the blush that had appeared on her cheeks gradually became more visible. “This is harder than I expected.”

Levi raised his brows. He had been wondering what Petra wanted to talk to him ever since she asked him if they could meet after school in the backyard this morning. He had found it a little awkward because it had felt like she wanted to talk to him in private and he couldn’t have thought of any reason why she would wish for that.

“You look nervous,” he told her.

“Well, of course, I am,” Petra laughed, not a cheerful one. “I am trying to…”

She let out a sharp breath as if she was angry at herself and she wasn’t looking at him too. Her eyes were scanning their feet, her fingers were fidgeting, brows furrowed.

And Levi was quietly getting an idea about why she wanted to talk to him.

“Just tell me,” He tried to encourage her, feeling his own heartbeat getting faster abruptly.  

Finally, she looked up at him, her cheeks painted crimson and she took a long, deep breath before she said, “Would you like to go to the cinema with me?”

“Oh,” he said.

Not the kind of reaction he should’ve given apparently. Petra bit her lower lip anxiously at first, searching his eyes. He must be pretty shocked for she looked a little discouraged upon his reaction. But within seconds she gathered herself up, her shoulders held high.

“I… liked you since the seventh grade,” she said, the blush spread from her cheeks to her neck, but she continued to be resolute without looking anywhere else than him. “And I thought that there is nothing wrong with asking a boy out if that boy doesn’t seem to be doing it anytime close.”

Levi felt his own cheeks heating up. Admittedly, he had never realized Petra had such feelings for him. “Sorry.”

Petra laughed, somewhat forcefully. “It’s okay,” she gulped, and a weak smile vibrated on her lips. “Just don’t be harsh if you’re gonna say no.”

Levi considered her offer quietly. Petra had always been a good friend and she was a nice person too. Kind, tidy and even funny. She loved painting and drawing and was pretty gifted at them as well. And she smelled fresh, Levi guessed it was because of the softener she used on her clothes, her hair was soft, and her eyes were pretty.

“When do you want to go?”

Said pretty eyes glittered as she beamed at him. For a second, in the back of his mind, he saw a very similar image belonging to another girl with auburn hair and hazel-brown eyes who had a smile that reminded him of the rainbow after rain and sun.

“What about this Friday after school?” Petra asked, excitedly.

“Sure,” Levi responded, trying to smile and ignore the weird feeling in his stomach.

*

When he stepped into the roof, the night was chilly, the sky was full of transparent, quietly moving clouds, the stars were shining behind them, the Wanning Gibbous was hanging low on the horizon, and Hanji was standing on the edge of the roof, her head laid backwards.

Levi didn’t even know if he breathed, his heart jumped to his throat as he threw his schoolbag to the ground and walked closer to her from behind cautiously. “Hanji, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Watching the sky,” she replied, smiling.

Levi felt a muscle move on his jaw; his heart was beating so loud it almost hurt his ears. He focused on adjusting his breaths. In and out. “Don’t be ridiculous. Get back down.”

Hanji shrugged and Levi nearly had a heart attack right then and there. He felt his eyes widen, and his breath hitched. “I feel closer to the clouds like this.”

“Hanji,” he took slow, careful steps towards her. The night breeze was toying with her dispersed hair, her face was tranquil, her eyes never left the sight of the clouds. The smile that was drawn on her lips was unmoving like it was craved there by the hands of a masterful sculptor. And he watched her, his heart still beating fast and loud, his breaths irregular, and his eyes wide, and he thought about—

Stars

how free she looked at that moment like she belonged to the sky, the stars and the moon. As if they shone for her only.

hide your fires.  

Brown hair and brown eyes but Hanji was luminous. She kept the colours hidden, had a brush and a palette ready in her hand. The murky night did nothing but to contrast the light, she had a way with the world which made her stood out among the dullest of sounds and faces. Even on top of a derelict building, she was—

Let not light see—

the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He grabbed her wrist, inhaling hard and thick then he drew her back with a quick move of his arm. Her body turned and crashed against him, and he stumbled backwards a few steps, but he kept his balance, wrapping his arms around her waist securely, without any intention of letting go. He vaguely heard the surprised shriek Hanji made upon his unexpected move. And he half-expected her to push him back, to laugh it off and to say that he was being dramatic again. That nothing was going to happen anyway, it wasn’t like she was going to jump.

Yet instead, her arms circled his neck as she rested her cheek on his head and at that very moment Levi realized that he had never thought of losing her, of what would happen if she were to leave his life. Just like he had never imagined a day without the sun rising. The thought was uninvited and unwelcomed, and it cropped a fear in his heart so profound, he drew a shivering breath in before he buried his face on her neck. Then he pushed that thought deep down to the dungeon in his head never to see daylight again.

“I’m okay, you know,” Hanji spoke after seconds.

“Stupid,” he said, holding her tighter. “Stupid four-eyes.”

“Mm,” she muttered, amused. Then she started to move left and right making him follow her movements as if they were dancing. “I’m going to let all the world know that Levi Ackerman cares for me.”

Levi placed his forehead on her shoulder, pressing hard. “Someone needs to care for your sorry ass, or you’ll drop it down a goddamn building.”

She laughed, and it felt so good to hear it he immediately craved the sound soon as it faded away. Hanji stopped moving afterwards, then put her hands on his shoulder to push him slightly back. He withdrew reluctantly but kept his hands on either side of her waist not ready to let go just yet.

Her eyes were somewhat misty as she watched him, as the sharp peak of a mountain lost behind a grey fog. Levi frowned at her, searching for a sturdy branch to hold and to obtain some kind of a clue about what she was thinking. He came back empty-handed, and Hanji snapped out of it soon after, smiling at him brightly and warm. Her hair was all over her face, her glasses were askew, and he brought a hand up to fix them.

Then he flicked her forehead instead.

“Ouch!” She exclaimed, touching the slightly damaged skin.

“That was for almost giving me a heart attack,” Levi said nonchalantly and walked past her to grab his schoolbag. Then he sat down, bag between his legs as he searched for the snacks he bought after school.

“Geez, I’m sorry,” Hanji muttered as she placed herself next to him. “But you were just being dramatic. I wasn’t going to jump anyway.”

*

So, here was the thing, he needed to tell Hanji.

But he didn’t know how. Through all those years they had been friends, there had never been a secret among them. He knew everything about her. From the fact that she had fed a frog in her room when she was only seven without telling neither of her parents and how she accidentally killed the poor animal by forgetting to feed it properly. And to the very first crush, she secretly had on a boy who didn’t even know who she was when she was ten. Each and every detail in between had been craved in his head, everything about her was a book he had learnt by heart, and he knew that for her it was the same.

He didn’t understand why he was so unwilling now about telling her about Petra. Frankly, he was going to tell her yesterday but when he saw her standing on the edge of the goddamn roof, he had forgotten all about it in a second. Thursday, which was today, he couldn’t have found a chance to talk to her alone and tomorrow was Friday. And he had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do.

Levi traced the shadows on the ceiling with his eyes, lying on his bed. It was near eleven pm but he didn’t have any sleep. Should he call Hanji? But no. It wasn’t something he could tell on the phone. It would be absurd and out of nowhere—

His phone started to vibrate on the bedside table.

He jumped a little, surprised at hearing a sound other than the voices in his head then stared at the phone for a while until he decided that it was going to ring till he opened it. And so, he did.

“I thought you had fallen asleep,” Hanji spoke before him as he lied back down, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“I was trying to,” he lied.

“Oh, sorry,” she apologized without sounding a bit sincere. “But this is more important than your sleep so…”

He raised a brow. “What did you learn again?”

“A lot of things. But that is not the reason why I called.” Levi heard some clatter he guessed it was the pressing of the computer keys. “I found a new song.”

He exhaled, wearily. “Seriously?”

“Wait before you judge,” she said. “Do you remember the time when you said, this is going to sound weird but, I was a rainbow?”

“No.”

“I hate you,” she said, darkly. “It was our first time in the attic. I had told you about –”

“I know, Hanji.” He rolled his eyes. “Of course, I remember.”

She grunted and said some things he couldn’t quite pick clearly under her breath. “You don’t really deserve this but since I’m a nice person I’ll let you listen to it.”

He snorted, lips curling on the corners, and he waited for the song to start. And not long after, he heard the first notes, then a soft voice of a woman followed. He also heard Hanji accompanying quietly behind, murmuring the lyrics alongside. Then he closed his eyes to focus on the song properly.

Dearest, I'm broken

My body is unspoken

How could I be loved?

Wake up in the morning

Feeling uncertain

Like a burning old scar

For I remember

The joy I’ve had as a child

Various colours I’m hiding inside

She’s a rainbow

And I am

A difficult man

It was as if the song, the lyrics, the notes, the singer’s voice were each had little hooks, they captured his soul relentlessly. He felt captive, unable to move. The song made him feel way too many things, with an intensity that nearly choke him as he lied there. His throat felt tight, even after the song ended, notes faded, and all he could hear was Hanji’s regular breaths a complete opposite of how his heart pounded at the moment.

“So?” She asked when he was unable to speak. “What do you think?”

Levi cleared his throat, he needed to talk dammit. “It was nice.”

“Just nice?” She didn’t sound pleased at his response. “But you have to listen to it every day Levi so that you wouldn’t forget me.”

“Forget you?” Was she kidding?

“We don’t know where life would take us,” Hanji told him, her voice calm now. “It’s the reality of the world. I’m just guarantying myself.”

Oh, so she didn’t know? That no matter where life carried him, no matter how high and wild the waves would be it would change nothing. The sun would rise from the west, and all the world would crumble, melt and disappear. But he wouldn’t forget her.

“What if you forget me?” Levi redirected the question to her, wondering her answer.

“I wouldn’t,” she said, not hesitating.

“How do you know?”

“If I’m a rainbow then that would make you the sky, remember?” Some distinct shuffling came to his ears, and he imagined her lying on her side, the phone still on speaker resting on top of her pillow. “Whenever I look up at the sky, I will think about you.”

“Sappy,” he whispered, ignoring the aftershock her words caused.

She chuckled in response and yawned loudly. “Only for you, clean-freak.”

*

Friday after the last class ended Hanji gathered up her things quickly. It had been an incredibly long and tiring week. She couldn’t wait to spend some time with Levi on the roof, just talking about things that didn’t matter, things that were easy to speak of because they were still young and had years ahead to take them seriously.

She waited for Levi outside, leaning against the school building as he went to the bathroom. She busied herself with observing the exhausted students leaving the school borders, chattering between themselves. It was getting chilly and the black denim jacket she was wearing didn’t do a good job at protecting her. She pulled the sleeves of her sweater to her palms to at least cover her hands. She spotted Petra a few inches away from where she was standing. She was walking back and forth, fiddling with a piece of paper she held in her hands. Hanji found it a little strange but shrugged, deciding it wasn’t her business.

Finally, among the rain of students that walked through the school gate, Levi appeared. His face and some parts of his hair damp, indicating that he had just washed his face.

“Feeling refreshed enough?” Hanji asked, smirking.

“Yeah,” Levi murmured, and he looked around briefly.

“Come on,” Hanji pushed herself up from the wall. “Let’s go. We better grab something to eat on the way. I’m starving.”

She had taken only a few steps when she heard Levi calling out to her quietly. “Hanji.”

“Mm?”

He appeared to be uneasy as he looked at her, brows knitted, and lips pressed. Curiosity rose within her swiftly as she expected the words he was about to say.

“I can’t come to the roof with you today.”

Of all the things she thought about that was the least, she had expected to hear. Her stomach started to burn again, and she imagined a cauldron inside. Burning so fiercely and it never promised anything good. “Why?” Hanji asked, sounding just as surprised as she possibly looked.

Levi’s eyes moved to somewhere above her shoulder. She wanted to trace his stare but was too busy observing his expression, a little anxious, tense and what? Embarrassed? But why?

“Levi?”

“I… am going to the cinema,” he blurted eventually, his eyes finding her again. “With Petra.”

Cinema… with Petra?

“As a date?” She sounded bewildered again as if she couldn’t believe her ears. It wasn’t something to be that surprised about considering their age, hormones and everything. But it was Levi. Levi… It had always been the two of them, now imagining him spending time alone with someone else—she hadn’t prepared herself for that.

“I guess,” Levi rubbed his neck. Oh, he was shy about it too? Was he excited, was he looking forward to it? Was he going to hold her hand as he held hers? Did he even  like  her? When had this thing happened anyway?

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

He seemed guilty, and he should be too. They were best friends for a reason. If she wasn’t going to be the first one to know about his first  date, what was the point to it?

“It happened just this Wednesday. I couldn’t find a proper time—”

“This Wednesday?” She tried not to reflect her disappointment in her voice. “It was two days ago, mind you. You had plenty of time.”

“Hanji—”

“Did you ask her out?” Hanji went on, not giving him any chance to speak. “How long have you liked her?”

“It’s not—” He frowned, his jaw tightened, and a blaze came to life in his eyes. “She asked me.”

“Oh? How brave!” She felt like laughing and somewhere deep inside she knew that she was exaggerating, that she should be happy for him instead. Yet the disappointment was much heavier, and it stood out so blatantly, so arrogantly that it didn’t give her any time to think reasonably.  

“Hanji, don’t.” He stepped forward but she withdrew in an instant.

“Have a nice date,” she said, and she failed at hiding the sarcasm behind. And she thought she saw a flickering of hurt in his eyes but didn’t stay long enough to acknowledge it. With a final look she gave to a confused Petra, she walked out of school. And the cauldron bubbled, bubbled and it burned, and it hurt. Then Hanji wished it would turn the wildflower to ashes to its roots so that it wouldn’t spring again. Wishful thinking it was because the wildflower was already the reason why the flames come alive in the first place.

*

Hanji didn’t quite remember when or how but she was sitting on the swing on the park near Levi’s house, the park they had buried the dead bird all those years ago. Strange how the years passed. She felt old for some reason despite the fact that she was only sixteen and life hadn’t even started for her yet. But she yearned for that little girl now, playing snowball fight with a boy who drank a little too much tea and swore a little too much for their age. Then she cursed at herself for being so frail, for letting her emotions draw the road she would walk.

The streetlamp near the park had a weak light. It trembled from time to time, squeaking as if it was at death’s door. She pondered it was a good metaphor as to how she felt now. Exaggerating? Maybe. But Levi had become such a constant in her life, it felt like the time Jack had crashed her glasses. She remembered how blurry everything seemed and how dizzy she had felt.

“Hanji?”

She blinked and following the voice she lifted her eyes up from the ground. It was Erwin, standing in front of her, with a curious expression painted on his face. What was he doing here?

“Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Hanji shook her head, realizing that she had been blinking at Erwin absently. Then nodded, voicing a half-hearted chuckle. “Yeah, I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

He sat down on the swing next to her, dropping his school bag on the ground. It was a funny sight. A boy of Erwin’s age and height sitting on a child swing. His legs were much too long for that, but he used them to move back and forth slowly.

“I was just passing by,” he said, shrugging. “What are you doing here alone? Where’s Levi?”

She didn’t need to be reminded of the fact that whenever someone saw one of them alone, they immediately wondered where the other was.  I am acting like a child.  Then she started to move back and forth herself, holding the chains on either side. “He is on a date,” she informed Erwin. “With Petra.”

Then the movements of her legs fastened to the point where she had to curl them so that they wouldn’t slow her down. She used her body against the wind, it ruffled her hair, and her hair blocked her vision. And she thought about Levi who was with Petra and Petra who was kind and pretty. Petra who had shiny hair which was always combed and tidy. Petra who was funny and nice and—

“Hanji!”

Ah, her vision was blurry. Had she dropped her glasses again?

“Hey, slow down!”

She couldn’t slow down but someone, Erwin, she remembered, made her. He was holding the sides of the swing, kneeling down in front of her, he looked into her eyes. Hanji noticed his eyes were a different kind of blue not so fierce like the winter ocean, but kind and worried at the moment. Yellow, thick eyebrows knitted, “Are you okay?” Erwin asked.

It was the second time he had asked the same question and it confused her a bit. Did she look that bad? “Yeah,” she confirmed. Her voice came out cracked.

Then Erwin reached out with his hand. Hanji waited silently as he wiped her cheek with his thumb and under her chin with his knuckles. His hand shone under the shrieking light of the streetlamp when he withdrew it, with tears, she realized with a startle. She lifted her hand then, her eyes wide and touched her damp cheek.

“I can walk you home if you’d like,” Erwin offered with a voice so gentle Hanji thought she hated it. Hated because she didn’t want pity when she was the one that had brought this upon herself.

She blinked at her wet fingers, her sight getting blurry again and used her other hand to adjust her glasses.  She could walk herself home, and she opened her mouth to say that much to Erwin. But words betrayed her half-way and what came out was, “I’d appreciate that,” instead, as she accepted, silently. “Thank you.”

[rokutouxei]

a storm of a woman

part 7 of atelier heart

ikemen vampire: temptation in the dark theo van gogh/mc | T | 3146 | [ao3 in bio]

a/n:just pure, tooth-rotting, domestic fluff, because the latter part of Theo’s route is just miles and miles of agony.

a series of snapshots in the daily life of Theo, now romantically entangled with you, a storm of a woman, if he had any say in the matter.

Theo has always been an early riser. He likes to get his day started as the sun is rising; it gives him an extra boost of energy and motivation like no other. But as of late, he’s had some motivation to stay in bed a little longer than he ever has before, if only to watch you for a few minutes, sleeping soundly next to him.

You usually scoot extra close to him at night, so he’s careful as he wakes up so he doesn’t jostle you or get you out of your comfortable position. Presses a kiss on whatever patch of skin is closest to him—your shoulder, your cheek, your hand—and watches: sea-blue eyes trained on the person he loves the most. Joins you in your synchronized breathing, in, and out, you give him a peace the sunrise can’t compete with.

His stubborn mind and experience tells him it’s wrong, but somehow when you’re with him he feels like nothing can go wrong—that this is the epitome of peace—that it can’t get any better than this. So much has been lost to him, so much has been left behind, so much has passed. Fate has been crueler to Theo than he ever was to himself in many ways, and yet you’re here now, like an apology, like a recompense for all the misery.

So Theo takes his time with you.

The healthy sheen of your skin under the early-morning sun; the tenderness of your flesh; the curl of your eyelashes against your cheek as you’re deep in sleep. The gentle in and out of your breathing; the warmth of your hand curled against his; the thrum of your blood underneath your veins reminding him: you are here, you are here, you have not let him, and if the world is kind, you never will.

But nothing—nothing!—knocks the wind out of him in his early-morning reverie quite like your sweet, sweet smile, your scrunched eyes, the soft sound you make as you stretch, reaching out to him in many ways, and your groggy, hoarse, “goedemorgen”—

Oh, you’re so bad for his heart.

-

It is simple to say I want to become an art dealer too but much harder to do, so once you’ve finally made up your mind to follow him on his journey, the learning begins. While of course there are many things you learn on foot, like in between exhibits or visits to artists and patrons, there are also other things that you learn in between pages of a book. Like art history, techniques and styles, methods and design. Theo is a stern tutor, and the both of you spend nights huddled up on his bed in his room memorizing and discussing, making connections between observations in real life and things learned on paper.

And it’s not like you’ve come from the 21st century entirely empty-handed, so when he teaches you about this or that era you can name a few artists, the most familiar of them. But what excites Theo the most is when you talk about the future. Pathways of art that have long been found from where you are from that are still being looked for; he makes sure to take note of the names you mention, the timeframes. And when he does, you’re always laughing because “how did it end up that I’m the one teaching you? Theo, focus!” is such a fun way to tease him, but—

(you always talk about the future with wide-open eyes, and Theo can’t help but dream of even the most unimaginable things coming true with you)

He has so much to learn from you, how can you blame him from staring?

-

There are loud days. Disagreements aren’t that surprising when Theo’s words are commonly coated in barbs, and no matter how long you’ve spent with him there are a few things you just can’t let pass. So there are days you fight. Sometimes it is quiet; cold shoulders and unwillingness to cooperate. But on others, it is loud. You are screaming down the hall and telling him you don’t understand why he has to be so stubborn and he asks why you have to be so insistent.

The room is cold.

Today, you’re fighting over something so silly he doesn’t even quite remember what it is anymore, maybe just a slip of the tongue or some unmeant insult—but either way, the one thing he does know is that it isn’t worth all of this shouting. You’re sitting on the other side of the bed from him (his side of the bed, ironically) with your arms crossed over your chest, a deep frown on your face. And maybe if Theo listens even closer, he’ll be able to make out your little sniffles.

He knows that getting into disagreements with him makes you the most upset, but they are unavoidable, not when he is stubborn and insolent like that and you are a hundred years from the future. It’s understandable, he knows, but it doesn’t have to be normal.  

So he reaches out to place his hand on yours from across the bed, and when you flinch and pull back he holds it down. “Let’s talk,” he says, softly, as to not scare you, “I don’t want to fight anymore.”

And you turn, smiling weakly at him, and softly say, “I don’t want to fight anymore either.”

-

Then there are quiet days. Days for recovering after a long week at work, days for just relishing in each other’s company. Somehow, the two of you have found a way to spend these afternoons lounging in the mansion’s rather impressive library, picking up books and reading it to each other.

You’re holding up a book of Classical Literature, a stack of other books on one side, as you’re prancing around on the carpet in front of the sofa where he’s laid down, happily reading out loud the cheesiest of lines from literature, ones he tries to counter back. Though at this point, the both of you have prepared for this exchange in advance, so most of the lines are said from memory; the conversation goes:

You say, “Your love is the weather of my being. What is an island without the sea?"

He says, “I love thee with a love I seemed to lose with my lost saints.”

“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,” you say back, with as much flair as you can.

And Theo says in turn, “She walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that’s best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes.”

You grin just as you say your winning line, reading, “My love is as a fever longing still, for that which longer nurseth the disease,” and Theo gasps, offended—

“Is that Shakespeare? How dare you!”

And he pulls you by the wrist as the two of you tumble onto the sofa, laughing, legs tangled together in the most inappropriate of ways, sharing a kiss.

-

You go on dates. You say that every work day spent with him is nearly like a date anyway, when it’s all enjoyable, looking at art and going to different parts of the city and sometimes even out of the country, but he makes sure to take you out on rather “normal dates” too. A lot of it depends on the schedule, but “normal dates” include at least one of the following: going to galleries, walking along the Seine, eating at new (or old, familiar) cafés, taking King out for a walk, or taking a carriage to nearby towns.

It doesn’t help, though, that when he is alone with you, with no work to think about, no worries, he gets so distracted because all he has to think about and focus on is you. It doesn’t help either that he’s constantly still trying to make sense of how you make him feel, a million different metaphors rewriting itself over and over again in his mind.

The one that sticks with him is that you are like a drop of rain after a long-lasting drought; the beginning of a storm. A storm that will turn into a flood, ravaging the hills, causing landslides. Drowning villages, leading rivers to overflow into the ocean. A storm that will take everything with it—and one he will take for washing away all that he’d have.

You’ve made him new and it hurts and it’s raw but you’ve made him who he wanted to be.

“Theo?”

Oh, the sound of his name on your lips; he returns back to the present and looks up at you with that lovestruck smile he doesn’t know he wears. Regularly. You get lost in it for a moment, before the flush settles in your face.

In mock anger, you furrow your eyebrows. “What were you thinking about?”

“You,” he quickly answers, and you feel your effort to tease him come rebounding back at you in ten times the force. What can you do when it’s you who had opened up his heart to honesty—but to suffer the brunt of the blow?

-

Theo cannot deny the fact that he is some sort of workaholic, but just because his work ethics are like that does not mean yours have to be the same—is what he constantly says to you. Not that you listen, because yet again he’s found you hunched over a desk in between sorting documents and checking your notes, and with a tsk and a gentle pat on your head he’s off carrying you to bed. This has happened once or twice now, but tonight’s is different, because you’re burning up with a fever that’s snuck up on you in between all the fatigue. In the morning, you wake up dizzy, and hot, the sun already high in the sky and Theo’s half-dressed, as if hesitating.

“Am I sick?”

Theo frowns. “Can’t you tell?”

“Just making sure,” you say, with a cough to match it.

He sighs in response and sits next to you on the bed. “I thought you’d get better by morning.”

“Wait, we have an important meeting today, don’t we? Oh, today’s supposed to be full. Artists in the morning… tools in the afternoon… the patron by evening.” You shake your head weakly. “Don’t worry about me, go to work.”

“I don’t think I can go when you’re like this.”

“You have to!” you say, but your voice betrays you. You clear your throat and try again. “No really, I can handle myself.”

He presses a hand to your warm cheek and frowns out of worry. “I’ll need to go to that patron by evening, but I can stay with you for the rest of the day.”

You want to argue that he has to go—which is true, even your feverish mind can figure that out—but there’s only so much you can do when your mind feeds you the rest of the images on its own: Theo next to you for the rest of the day, which instantly makes you feel calmer. Theo giving you water when you’re too dizzy to stand. Theo helping you eat. Theo holding your hand. Theo easing you out of your fever just by existing. You sigh, then curl up against his body, pulling the blanket with you. “I think I’m delirious. I’m giving up. Please stay.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead and then slapping a wet towel over it for good measure.

-

Theo isn’t the kind to jump at all your bad ideas, but it doesn’t take much to convince him to do it anyway, so now the both of you are cuddled rather awkwardly in your shared room’s private, solo bathtub. The new equipment of running water thanks to the turn of the century but also Le Comte’s great influence as a nobleman is something you were not going to take lightly.

Theo’s got in his hand a bottle of your homemade shampoo, and you’re holding in yours a bar of your also-homemade soap, because as much as you’ve gotten used to 19th century life, you’re still up for 21st century bathing techniques, should the opportunity arise. You’ve asked Theo to wash your hair, saying that you’ll in turn wash his back, but he’s too fixated on trying not to get your ass pressed too hard onto his crotch, because one more time and he’s sure he’ll—

You make a noise that is borderline pornographic just as Theo returns to the task of massaging the shampoo onto your scalp. The sound goes straight between his legs, and when he growls, you turn to him with a silly grin.

“Need some help there, big boy?” you ask, and Theo growls as he pulls you closer by the waist.

“You’re doing it on purpose!”

-

“I told you to be careful,” he sighs, as he puts you down on top of a low cabinet, making sure not to jostle your scratched knee. You had tripped while rushing past a crowd in the middle of running errands with him and had landed rather terribly, considering you did have layers and layers of skirts and petticoats on top, and you still landed knee-first onto the pavement.

You pout and it doesn’t show on his face but you know just that expression on you is enough to let you off the hook with Theo. Especially if it’s such a small thing such as this. “I’m sorry. It’s not too bad though, at least it didn’t bleed that bad.”

And it didn’t; just a light scrape that has made the flesh pink, but one that could probably use a bit of antiseptic and maybe some gauze. Theo has carried you directly to one of the buildings the both of you have rented lately, to be used as exhibit space, fully knowing he has a first aid kit in there somewhere.

You clean yourself up with antiseptic, and Theo holds the gauze in his hands, still (faux) glaring up at you. “From the moment I’ve met you up until now, you’ve done nothing but worry me. When are you going to stop?” he asks with the most overdramatic sigh you’ve ever heard from him. Well, he’s getting better at his acting, at least—and it’s rather amusing.

But instead of praising him, you go the roundabout way, the way he does, just to bite back at him. “You should stop worrying now, because now you are at least watching over me, right?”

And he groans in defeat, but he knows you’re right.

-

A phonograph is nothing to Bluetooth speakers of the 21st century but it’s still music, and the two of you are in one of the rooms in the mansion that’s being used as Vincent’s little storage area for all his paintings. There’s no need really for anything to ease boredom or exhaustion, because Vincent’s art is all magic and stunning in one place, but Theo’s set up a phonograph on the corner anyway, to play some music as you two go through the piles of canvases for paintings that will go along with the theme of the new exhibit the both of you are planning.

There’s nothing quite like appreciating art while a little tipsy though, and the whiskey you’ve been drinking (happily gifted by Vollard) makes it easy for the both of you to get lost in the music, to get distracted by its swaying tunes—and soon the two of you are face-to-face, slow dancing in the middle of the room under the late-afternoon sun peering through the window. Theo’s got his arms around your waist and your hands are around his shoulders and you have a cheek pressed against his chest.

One song slides into another and maybe they’ve replayed already but you’re not quite sure, not when Theo’s already tilted your face up to share a kiss—he had told you once that sometimes he just can’t stop kissing your stupid, stupid face—and you’re laughing into this one at the memory. He gives you a look but you shake your head and kiss him again, the kiss like something the both of you are not taking seriously, just something passed around. Clumsy mouths pressed against each other. Back and forth, back and forth, you’ve taught him, this is what it means to share, you say, this is what it means to not carry it all on your shoulders. And after one impertinent round of laughter he bites your lower lip and tugs—and you’re not one to be bested so you curl your fingers into his hair and pull, and the kiss is something and everything all at once.

It steals Theo’s breath away and he’s thanking it.

Your lips on his, the warmth of your touch, the music, the setting sun—this moment feels like it will last forever.

-

Theo thinks of much of his life—both in this and the past one—shrouded in a veil of darkness, the same way dark clouds cover over the sun just before it crashes and falls. But you’ve made him think differently of storms now. A storm that will take everything with it—that’s what you are to him, and at this point, he doesn’t mind if you ravage his lands as long as he gets to keep you, the rain that makes his flowers grow.

And one morning, Theo wakes up, much, much too late, on a day-off, after a very, very busy night in bed, to find you already bundled up and curled up on the armchair near the window, sipping a warm mug of coffee. It’s raining outside, mid-autumn showers that make the red leaves fall.

You look so lovely.

So delicate, so strong, and yet so fervent.

Oh, to fall for a storm of a woman like you.

You are teasing each other for morning breath as you both wake up. You the future he is trying to build. You are the arguments settled between bouts of tickle fights and laughter. You are centuries of books on romance combined. You are running in the rain because it suddenly poured and there is no shelter. You're warm soup and fresh bread. You're pushing all the limits. You're comfort and adventure.

He thinks back to everything that has happened in the past. To everything else that can happen in the future—the good, the bad, the ugly. And he hopes, hopes deep inside his heart, that nothing goes wrong. Nothing goes wrong when you’re with him after all.

So it’s himself he hopes for. Hopes that he can get this right, this time around.

-

in the atelier: The Storm, by Pierre Auguste Cot

[ravenpaw-93]

So I fucked up the last post trying to link my fic 🤦🏻‍♀️ It's been a rough night and the tumblr algorithm doesn't like it when I link shit apparently. So instead, here's my oneshot 🖤

Summary:

Draco's entire eighth year at Hogwarts had been a nightmare. Most of his peers avoided him, he had no prospective job opportunities for when he left, and then there was his extremely inconvenient crush on Harry bloody Potter. But his luck begins to change when he gets an unexpected invitation to the Spring Masquerade Ball.

Draco Malfoy found himself settled under a tree along the shoreline of the black lake, enjoying the warm spring air on his face as he did his Runes revisions. Or, more accurately, stared at Harry Potter doing loops on his broomstick, under the premise of doing his Runes revisions. Bloody showoff, he thought as Potter landed seamlessly after an admittedly impressive dive a few yards away. He was immediately surrounded by a gaggle of swooning girls. Draco watched, seething, as Harry smiled easily at them, laughing at something one of them had said. He had no right to feel so jealous, he and Potter were friends, nothing more. But they didn't call it the green eyed monster for nothing, and everyone knows, there's no reasoning with a monster. He slammed his book shut with a huff, more annoyed with himself than anyone else. He piled his belongings back in his bag, slung it over his shoulder and trudged towards the castle, giving Potter and his fanclub one last scathing glance over his shoulder.

His foul mood carried all the way to dinner as he sat sullenly at the 8th year table pushing his peas around his plate aimlessly, determinedly avoiding Potter's gaze. Despite his best efforts, he looked up as a seventh year Ravenclaw, whose name Draco could not remember, approached their table where Potter sat. His stomach twisted unpleasantly as the girl twirled her hair on her finger and batted her unnaturally long eyelashes at Potter, no doubt asking him to the Masquerade Ball that was a mere week away. This had to have been the fortieth invite Potter had received, and subsequently declined. Draco, to no great surprise, hadn't been asked by anyone. He tried to convince himself that's why he was jealous, that it had nothing to do with wanting Potter for himself. He accidentally met Potter's eye, his heart stuttered in his chest when his face split into a wide grin. Draco glanced over his shoulder, convinced that smile was meant for someone other than himself. When he saw no one behind him he gave Potter a shy smile and promptly returned to his peas, ignoring the blush creeping up his neck. Merlin, he was pathetic. 

"What's with you?" Blaise asked once they were back in the eighth year common room, sitting in their usual corner by the window. "You've had your wand in a knot all day."

"I have not!" Draco replied indignantly, knowing full well it was a bald-faced lie. 

Blaise pursed his lips and raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow at him.

"It's nothing." Draco insisted, setting his jaw stubbornly, his eyes wandering to the corner where Potter sat nodding off in an armchair, a textbook open in his lap. Gods, he looked adorable. Draco felt a pang in his heart knowing that he would never have the person he wanted most.

"Hm..right. Maybe if nothing had ridiculous hair, dorky glasses and terrible posture." Blaise returned, rolling his eyes and nodding subtly to Potter. 

"Drop it. Please , Blaise." Draco hissed, shooting him a venomous glare.

"No. I'm sick and tired of watching you pine and sulk over some idiot boy not asking you to a stupid school dance. Why don't you grow a pair and ask him yourself?" Blaise snapped impatiently.

"Fuck you." Draco spat, storming out of the room toward his and Theo Knott's shared dormitory, vaguely aware of green eyes following his every move.

He flung himself onto his bed and stared miserably at the ceiling. Who did Zabini think he was? He didn't understand. His family remained neutral in the war, he wasn't Marked, he didn't have to sit trial in front of the entire Wizengamot or have his name in the papers all summer. Draco was a social outcast, no one wanted to be around him, no one wanted to speak to him, nevermind take him to a cheesy school dance. Potter and he had become friends this year, but they weren't close and he definitely did not want to take Draco to the ball, or anywhere else for that matter. He stood up for Draco at the start of term, even to Weasley and while Draco appreciated it at the time sometimes he wished Potter wasn't so nice. Wished he wouldn't sit with Draco in the library, wouldn't fly with him on the weekends, or sit in the common room with him when the nightmares kept them both awake. It would make it much more difficult to love him if he would just go back to being a git. Maybe then Draco wouldn't lay in his bed at night thinking about the way he smiled at him in Charms, or how he helped him correct his stance when they were partnered together for Defense Against the Dark Arts, or any other stupid little interaction that Draco replayed over and over again in his mind. 

He needed to get over this useless infatuation with Potter. The end of term couldn't come fast enough. He needed to not see his stupid cute face and impossibly green eyes every day. He wanted to not feel the constant ache of loving someone who deserved far better than himself. He was an ex- Death Eater, with little money, no future, thanks to a terrible decision he was forced into making at sixteen, and an impossible amount of baggage that came with it all. He wasn't good enough for Potter. He wasn't good enough for anyone. Draco gave a shuddering sigh, closed his bed hangings and allowed himself to succumb to his feelings. He buried his face in his pillow and screamed until his throat ached and his pride finally allowed the tears to spill. They didn't stop until he drifted off into a restless sleep.

When Draco awoke the next morning he was relieved to see Theo had already left for breakfast. He dug in this trunk for a clean uniform and made for the boys' shower rooms. He scrubbed the stench of misery from his skin and dressed quickly. As he brushed his teeth he examined his reflection, frowning at the deep purple circles under his red rimmed, still puffy eyes and the spot on his chin. He ran a comb through his damp hair and heaved a great sigh before returning to his dormitory to retrieve his robes and bag. He opted to skip breakfast, not ready to forgive Blaise yet and knowing Pansy was going to be too busy mooning over Theo to be of any comfort to him. Instead, he made his way to the Charms corridor and slid down the wall opposite the classroom door, to sit on the cold stone floor. He leant his aching head against the rough bricks behind him and shut his eyes. He ought to be revising his essay, but he couldn't be arsed to care. He had exceptional marks in Charms, one mediocre paper wasn't the end of the world. It's not like anyone was going to hire him anyway, even with six N.E.W.Ts. 

"Hey, are you okay?" Potter's voice was soft, but still startled Draco causing him to jump, his eyes snapping open.

"What? Yes, I'm fine, Potter." He huffed impatiently. Yeah Draco, lash out. That'll help, idiot.

"Have I done something to piss you off or something? You've been avoiding me for weeks. I tried to come talk to you yesterday, but you took off." Potter asked, taking a seat next to him. Draco could smell his earthy cologne and it was making it hard for him to concentrate.

"No, not at all. I haven't been avoiding you, I've just been busy." He lied, sneaking a glance at Potter trying to discern if he bought it. He had been avoiding him, he thought some space would make things easier. Clearly, not one of his better ideas.

"Oh. Right. Well, er, what are you doing during free period? Do you want to go for a walk or something? It's really nice out today and it's been ages since we've hung out." Potter asked hopefully, looking for all the world like an eager puppy. 

"Sure, that sounds good." Draco replied managing to flash him a smile, sounding much more calm than he felt. His palms were sweating, his heart was racing painfully fast, his mind spinning. 

He did an abysmal job focusing during Flitwick's lesson. Potter had sat next to him  and instead of listening to his teacher Draco had retreated into his head to over-analyse their conversation in the corridor. On one hand, he was dead chuffed Potter had sought him out and wanted to spend time with him. On the other, he knew better than to read too far into it. They were friends, and Draco had been distant, he probably just wanted to catch up. There was no reason for Draco to get his hopes up. Potter prodded him with his elbow bringing him back to the present. Draco looked over to see him holding an orange under the desk.

"You skipped breakfast." He whispered, grinning. 

"Thanks." Draco mouthed, taking the offered fruit and giving him a small smile. His stomach fluttered pleasantly and he felt pathetic that such a simple gesture made him feel so giddy. Get it together Draco, it's an orange, not a love confession for fuck's sake. He discreetly peeled the orange in his lap, vanished the scraps and popped a segment into his mouth bending over his parchment as he chewed. He tore another off, nudged Potter's arm and passed it to him without looking away from Flitwick. He nearly choked when Potter bumped his knee against his. 

He was quite proud of how well he held himself together once Flitwick turned them loose to practice Protean Charms. Draco had already mastered the charm in his sixth year, for reasons he desperately wanted to forget. Much to his surprise it only took Potter two attempts to succeed. At the end of the lesson Flitwick handed back their quizzes from the previous lesson. Draco was rather pleased to see he'd gotten a perfect score. A remarkable feat, considering he'd spent more time than he'd care to admit fretting over how dreadful Potter had looked in class that day. He stuck the parchment hastily in his bag waiting anxiously for the bell to ring so his free period could begin.

He and Potter walked together in silence to the eighth year common room to drop off their bags. Draco dropped his bag onto his bed and pulled his robes over his head and folded them neatly. Potter was waiting for him in the common room, sleeves pushed up to show his firm, tan forearms, and his purple and black tie was loose around his neck. He led the way out to the castle grounds to the treeline of the Forbidden Forest. They walked along it in silence for a few moments, the only sounds were the crunching of twigs beneath their feet and bird calling from the trees. 

"Thanks for agreeing to come with me. I've really missed spending time with you, I really thought I had done something wrong." Potter said at last, turning his head to look at Draco briefly.

Draco felt a swooping sensation in his stomach and he had to fight to keep the smile off his face. He missed me? Holy shit he missed me...No. No, keep it together Draco, don't make it more than it is. 

"I've missed it too." He admitted trying to keep his voice from shaking. "Sorry I've been a bit distant." 

"It's okay, it happens." Potter replied amicably. "Er, so there was something I wanted to talk to you about." He continued, sounding a bit nervous and coming to a stop.

Fuck. Draco felt like his heart had plummeted from his chest down to his stomach.

"Okay." Draco said hesitantly, looking at Potter with his lip caught between his teeth. 

"Well I was wondering if maybe you'd want to go to the ball with me? I know it's kind of stupid, but I think it might be fun." Potter asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Draco was sure he had misheard. Did Harry Potter just ask him to the ball? No. That can't be right, it had to be some sick joke Weasley put him up to.

"Are you fucking with me?" Draco asked in response, his tone much more accusing than he intended. 

"What? No! Why would you ask that?" Potter recoiled slightly, as if Draco had slapped him.

"Why else would you ask me to the ball?"  Draco countered quietly dropping his eyes to look at his shoes.

"I thought that was obvious. I asked you because I fancy you." Potter explained giving him a crooked grin.

Draco was quite certain he stopped breathing for at least twenty seconds. His heart thumped painfully quick in his chest and he felt a strange, sudden urge to jump up and down.

"I fancy you too." He replied sheepishly, feeling his cheeks heat, unable to keep from smiling.

"So is that a yes?" 

"Yes, you dolt, it's a yes." Draco chuckled with an exaggerated eye roll, trying to conceal how elated he felt.

That evening he made up with Blaise and apologised for sulking over Potter for so long. He decided not to tell his friends he was going to the ball, to save himself the embarrassment, just in case it fell through. Though the fear of that happening progressively lessened as the week went on. Potter held his hand during their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson Tuesday while Professor Arrowood did a lecture on Dementors. On Wednesday they spent their free period studying for Charms together, under a tree by the lake. Potter told him he had a pretty smile. Draco had blushed furiously and stammered something incoherent about Potter's eyes.

Classes were dismissed at noon the day of the ball. Draco was a bundle of nervous, excited energy. He attempted to get some of his school work completed before he had to start getting ready but it was a lost cause. He bounced from subject to subject, unable to keep his focus. At five thirty he snuck away to the showers hoping to get his in before the other boys started getting ready for the ball. He had just slipped into his pyjama trousers and a long sleeve knit top when he heard several voices from outside the door. He gathered his dirty clothes and slipped past Macmillan, Weasley, and Longbottom and returned to his dormitory. He waited for Theo to come in and out of the room what seemed like fourteen times before getting ready. He stripped his pyjamas off and pulled on his all black dress robes set with gold fastenings and knotted his black and gold pinstriped tie. He fussed with hair in the mirror trying to get it to look intentionally tousled before sliding the ornate black and gold eye mask over his head. He felt a bit stupid wearing it, but supposed that would go away once he saw everyone else wearing one. Just as he was giving himself one more look over in the mirror someone rapped on his door.

"Draco, it's Harry. You ready to go?"  Potter called from the other side. 

Draco took a deep breath to calm his nerves before crossing the room and opening the heavy oak door. Gods, Potter looked stunning. His dress robes were such a dark shade of green they looked almost black, with silver fastenings. He'd opted for a deep emerald green mask with intricately painted black vines, that complimented his eyes beautifully. His hair lay much neater than it usually did, but still looked just wild enough to make Draco want to run his hands through it.

"You look amazing." Potter said breathlessly flashing him a bright smile, sending the butterflies in Draco's stomach twirling again. Though, at that moment, he could have sworn they were pigeons. 

"Thank you. So do you." He replied timidly, trying to hide the flush that crept up his neck and tinted his cheeks. "Hang on, can you even see me? Where are your glasses?" He asked torn between amusement and utter confusion. How on earth was Potter going to dance with him if he couldn't see?

Potter gave a deep hearty laugh, a warm sound that filled Draco's heart and sent tingles over his skin. 

"Yes I can see you, silly. I have contact lenses. They're a muggle thing. They're literally these little flexible, soft lenses that I put in my eyes, not on them." He explained with a chuckle.

"Wow. That's actually really inventive. Wonder how come wizards haven't thought of that?" Draco wondered aloud. 

"Who knows. Probably the same reasons why they insist on parchment and quills." Harry snorted with a shrug. "Shall we head down?" 

A sense of euphoria spread throughout his body as Potter took his hand and led him to the Great Hall. He was on cloud nine, not even the stares and mutinous whispers following them as they made their way through the castle could bring him down. As they descended the entrance hall staircase Draco watched other students craning their necks, desperate to see who had been fortuitous enough to have captured the interest of Harry Potter. Draco revelled in their envy, meeting each scathing, disbelieving glare with a smug smirk. 

"I should warn you before we go in, I'm a terrible dancer. Your toes will probably be sorry you ever said yes to this." Potter admitted with a charming grin as they wove through the throng of students gathered outside the Great Hall.

"Toes mend." Draco replied gently, giving Potter's hand a light squeeze.

"Well in that case, come on. Let's go dance." Potter said pulling him through the crowd into the noisy, exquisitely decorated Great Hall.

Their first dance was a bit clumsy, involving a lot of tripping each other, trodding on feet, nervous giggles and whispered swears and apologies. But by the third song Draco's nerves had completely disappeared and he laughed as Potter spun him around, looking at him with such an adoring expression Draco lost his breath. He felt a bit silly that he was enjoying this so much, but he couldn't help it. Even surrounded by dozens of other students, Potter only had eyes for him; nothing had ever made him feel so happy. As the song came to an end Potter took him by the hand and led them, giggling as they wove through the crowded dance floor, to the refreshment table on the east wall. The dark haired Ravenclaw that had asked Potter to be her date glowered at a Draco from a few feet away as they stood in the queue for the punch bowl. Draco caught her eye and gave her a falsely sweet smile just as Potter placed a hand on the small of his back and nudged him forward.

Time was passing far too quickly for Draco's liking. After they had their drinks they returned to the dance floor. Potter danced with him as if no one was watching, like it was only the two of them, bodies moving in sync, Potter's hips grinding tantalizingly against his arse. It took every ounce of self-control Draco had not to snog Potter senseless on the spot. The crowd had thinned out considerably, most of the younger students having gone off to bed. The DJ announced the last dance and the beginning notes of a slow ballad filled the air. Potter snaked his arms around Draco's waist and in turn he draped his over Potters broad shoulders. Their faces were mere inches apart now and in the dim light Draco could make out the light dusting of freckles on the perfect ski-slope bridge of Potter's nose, his brilliant green eyes shone so bright they appeared to be glowing as they bore into Draco's. 

"I wish this didn't have to end." Draco admitted, with a sad smile as he swayed with Potter to the rhythm of the music. 

"Maybe it doesn't have to." Potter replied with a grin as the music started to wind down. "Come with me." He leant in and whispered, his breath tickling Draco's neck. 

Draco's fingers laced through Potter's as followed the raven haired boy through the sea of couples still dancing as the last song came to an end. He led Draco to the third floor, through the clock tower door, letting it shut gently behind them. Potter caressed Draco's cheek and pulled his mask down to hand loosely around his neck, doing the same to his own.

"Christ, you're beautiful." Potter whispered tenderly. Draco felt his face heat as Potter brushed a stray hair from his eyes. "One more dance? 

"There's no music." Draco answered, wrapping his arms around Potter's neck anyway. 

"You don't need music to dance." Potter smiled as he rested his hands on Draco's hips and began to sway with him.

Potter rested his forehead against Draco's as they clung to each other in the moonlight. Potter looked stunning with the silvery light shimmering across his brown skin and Draco felt as though he were living in a dream. No one had ever looked at him the way Potter was. No one had ever touched him so gently, as if he were made of precious glass that could break at any moment. His heart flooded with emotion as he found himself hypnotized by emerald eyes. 

"Thanks for asking me to the dance, Harry." He murmured, the corners of his mouth quirking up into a small smile. 

"Thanks for coming with me." Harry returned, chewing on his bottom lip, as if deliberating what to say next. "About what I said earlier, I wasn't talking about the ball, you know. I meant this , with us, it doesn't have to end just because the ball is over."

This time Draco really did stop breathing.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Is this really happening? Did Harry really just say that? Holy shit. Okay. Don't freak out just answer him. For fuck's sake, speak Draco don't just stand there gawking at him. 

"Really?" Draco asked quietly, at last, his eyes wide as they stared into Harry’s.

"Yes, really. I’ve had feelings for you for awhile, I just couldn’t work out how to tell you. I'm sorry I took so long." Harry answered cradling Draco's jaw gently in his hand. "So what do you say? Wanna be my boyfriend?" 

For once, Draco didn't think. He leant forward and pressed his lips to Harry's bringing a hand up to tangle in his wild curls. His heart soared when Harry's hand pressed into the small of his back, bringing their bodies flush together. He scraped Harry's bottom lip gently with his teeth as he pulled back.

"Only for ever." Draco grinned and brought their lips together once more, knowing in his heart that he finally had the person he wanted most, and was never letting him go.

[ill-skillsgard]

More Than That - Henry Deaver x Mistress

Warning: 18+ sex/cheating/mature themes. Please read at your own discretion.

Note: This is another, longer, one from Henry’s point of view. I liked the idea of getting to know our little mistress a bit better since we’re all in this together now. As always, thank you to the wonderful beauties that send in asks and keep letting me get away with this shit. I love you all. Kisses, kisses.

Read more Henry x Mistress here > Masterpost

My head was in the clouds all morning. I just got back from Prague and it was the first day of corporate meetings, the first six hours that I spent away from her in a long time. She was at her desk in front of my office far from view. But I knew she was on the same floor as me and that made the day's stale events feel not so dull. Once I got through the meetings, she would be right there.

We discussed the formalities and performance trends with a positive review and sat around the conference table afterward discussing weekends, vacations and all manner of private matters.

"Speaking of new assistants... Henry, I can't help but notice the new little piece."

I stared through the glass, skimming the rooftops, seeing if I could squint and look into the other buildings from where we were.

"Henry?"

I snapped to attention and saw all my colleagues looking at me with shit-eating grins and wobbling eyebrows.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Your new assistant is smoking hot."

"Oh," I chuckled, blood shooting up my neck. "My assistant?"

"Your replacement for whats-her-face. You can't tell me that wasn't a deciding factor in hiring her," a man named Theodore Cottrill elbowed his neighbouring tablemate.

I shrugged my shoulders, not wanting to give an inch away. "Oh... Yeah. It was between her and somebody else."

"Was the other one as hot?"

My cheeks must have glowed as they all snickered around the table.

"Don't make the man blush! He's happily married, ain't that right, Henry?"

"Speaking of... We have that benefit coming up with our sister companies. Can I still count on you and the wife splitting a table with Debra and me like last year?"

Panic set in and I clutched my fist underneath the table. I wasn't wearing my ring and none of them noticed yet. I tried to recall what he was talking about until it clicked in.

"The benefit, right. Yeah. Uh, I'll have to talk to her about it."

"Well, it's this Friday. Call her up and ask!"

I nodded my head but Theodore didn't divert his attention from me. He gestured at my pocket with an expectant grin on his face.

"You mean right now?" I asked.

"Yes! It's not too late to buy a table, right guys?"

"As far as I know, it's only seventy percent sold."

"Hm, not as much of a turn out this year?"

"Guess not."

"Henry, you gonna call her or what?"

I waved my hand. There were too many voices talking all at once. "I'm sure it's fine. Go ahead and buy the table. I'll wire you the money."

"Ah, I'll just have Debra take care of it. She talks with your wife now probably more than you do these days."

"What?" I asked.

Theodore blinked dimly in my direction. "Our wives. They talk a lot. You know... Working together and all. Jesus, Deaver, are you okay? You've been elsewhere all morning."

"Sorry. Must be the jetlag."

"I'll have her call your assistant to get everything set up. Should we carpool? Make it a double date?"

My stomach twisted in a knot at the thought of playing house. But I was caught in a corner. It was then I realized that I needed to do something to clear the air. I couldn't keep sneaking around with a ring on, without a ring on, pretending like everything was okay in my marital bed. I nodded to defer some attention off me.

"I'll have my assistant reach out. Don't worry about it," I informed him.

He set down the pen he was chewing on and raised his eyebrows. "Okay, if you insist. You should invite her, too."

"Who?"

"Your assistant. God knows she has a nicer ass than my wife."

"She looks really familiar. Did you promote her from within?"

I looked down at my watch as the questions whizzed by my head. Our meeting already concluded so I stood up, bowing to my colleagues as I rose.

"Gentlemen. I have some other matters to attend. Good seeing everybody. Keep up the great work," I dismissed myself and left the conference room quickly, despite a few mouths opening to halt me with more questions.

She was staring down at something on her desk when I approached. When she looked up and saw me I felt every muscle in my body relax. Her eyes twinkled customarily and the smile that I always wanted to devour spread over her face. I suddenly hated Theodore and resented all that he said about her. She was mine. I didn't want to picture his beady stigmatized eyes staring at her lustfully.

"Hey," she greeted, waving a pen in her hand frustratedly.

"What's with the pen?" I asked her.

"I think it just ran out of ink. Stupid thing."

"Here," I reached into my jacket pocket, felt around for the pen I kept and passed it over the desk.

"Thank you, Mr. Deaver," she flashed a secret grin at me.

"It's a good pen. Don't lose it," I jested.

"How was the meeting?" She asked.

"Great. Hey, do you have time for lunch?" I asked hurriedly.

"Well, I suppose that depends on what the boss has to say," she replied.

I scoffed at myself. "Of course, let's head out in five?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Deaver."

We took my car to a small Italian restaurant a few blocks away and she noticed my discomfort almost as soon as I turned left onto the street.

"Everything okay, babe?"

"No," the word fell out of my mouth before I had a chance to deny anything. Oh well, I thought, I didn't want to lie to her anyway. Prolonging the conversation would only make matters worse. "I'm going to need you to set up a couple of meetings for me. One with my lawyer first and then, depending on how our conversation goes, I might need more of you."

"Okay... What for?"

"I'm getting this divorce thing underway. I have to meet with him and ask him how to go about this in the most professional way possible. I'm done pussyfooting around this."

She drew back against the seat and stared forward, surprise written on her face. I decided to continue to fill the silence in the car.

"That means that you're going to be in contact with my lawyers a lot. You might even have to deal with her."

"That wasn't in the job description," she mumbled.

"I know. And I'm sorry. But... This has to happen now. I'm done living a lie."

Her work phone rang and she excused herself from the conversation to answer it. "Henry Deaver's office... Oh, hi Theo. Yes... Mm-hmm."

I watched her eyes drop before flinging back to me. If Theo was already calling, I could only imagine he wanted to discuss plans for the benefit. Dread sat heavily in my stomach as I pulled into a parking spot on the street. We walked while she talked, one finger plugging her ear so she could better hear.

"Sure, I'll let Henry know." Her hand dropped after the call ended and she looked at me sympathetically. "I guess you have dinner with your wife on Friday."

"Oh, for Christ's sake," I groaned. "I told Theo that I would take care of it."

"Yes, that's what he told me you said but he decided to take matters into his own hands. Debra already called your wife and she's on board."

The inches separating us grew into feet and she crossed her arms under her chest as we waited to be seated. She wouldn't look in my direction. I didn't say anything until we were sat at the back of the restaurant next to a painting of a wicker basket.

"I told him I would take care of it so that I could get out of it. I didn't think the bastard was going to go ahead and commandeer the whole thing. Please don't be pissed."

"Oh, I'm not pissed. How could I be pissed? My boss is attending a benefit with his wife and some colleagues for a very worthy cause! What is there to be pissed about? Oh, and Theo said they will pick you up at the condo before the dinner, too!"

"Baby--"

"So, about getting on the phone with your lawyer. Did you still want me to go through with that or did you want me to run your wedding ring over to the jeweller to have it polished?"

"Don't say stuff like that. Of course, I still want you to set up a meeting. I never meant for this to happen, all right? It just popped up!"

"Well, it's happening," she brushed me off and crossed her arms again. "Things like this pop up."

When the server came around she lit up like a lantern, placed her order and denied a drink with me, deciding to stick to water. I sighed and let her fall back into her bad mood once the server took the menus along with him.

"You think she'll sign the divorce papers before your date this Friday?"

I dropped my face into my palms. My eyes ached and lethargy drained my will to continue with the conversation.

"I take it you won't want to see me tonight then?"

"Tonight?" She cocked her head. "Why would I see you tonight? I only work until five."

"Come on, babe, don't do this to me. You knew that things were going to get messier before they got better."

"This is me helping you out with your mess. I think we should just be employee and employer until you both sign a document. You need to go public about this."

"Fine. I'll call my lawyer. I'll handle this. But I don't want you to go home tonight."

She frowned at me and turned her water glass around and around. "I have to go home sometimes, Henry. We can't always be together."

The way my chest stung after what she said made me want to shrivel. I knew she was right but it burned so flagrantly. My selfishness was getting in the way again. All I wanted was to bring her home with me after work and do all the things that couples do together. And not just sex. We'd had so much sex. I wanted to know her now. Know her better.

"Not tonight. Please. Just come over and stay the night. And just spend time together. We can do normal stuff."

"Normal stuff?" She laughed at me. "What's normal stuff?"

"I don't know. We can talk. Watch TV. Make dinner together. It doesn't always have to be about sex. I like to think what we have is much more than that."

"I'm going to make you that appointment with your lawyer," she changed the subject.

~*~

After a lot of convincing, I swayed her into coming by after she went home to shower and grab a few things. My lawyer agreed to meet tomorrow and I made the potentially stupid mistake of asking her to come to the meeting as a show of good faith. I didn't know if I should have invited her but I couldn't rescind after she accepted.

The unease of the day melted away when I had her lay on top of me. The TV was on and I didn't care what show was playing. All I cared about was the feeling of her with me, the smell of her hair, the sound of her breathing. Then her hands started to travel lower and before I knew it, she was tugging at my belt.

"Hey," I nudged her.

She didn't stop. Her hips pushed up against my leg as her face nuzzled into my chest.

"What are you doing?"

Her eyes shot up, wide and glazed. An evil little smirk twisted her lips and I knew what that meant. I clamped my arms around her to keep her from squirming but she wiggled out of my grip and sat up before me on her knees, clutching the back of the couch.

"Babe, please don't," I said. She was at my belt, pulling the strap through the buckle when I caught her hand.

"I want cock."

"Come on, let's just watch this show," I tried to reason with her.

She shook her head and continued trying to get my pants down. She looked up at me with confusion written on her face when I held my pants up to keep her from shimmying them down my legs.

"What are you doing? Why won't you let me?" She asked.

"Because. I told you... I just wanted to spend time with you tonight. Not sex... You know, do something else. I feel like the only time we talk is when you're craving dick."

"We must talk a lot then because I'm always craving it," she giggled.

"I'm serious," I stopped her hands by grabbing her wrists. "Please stop."

"Are you okay?" She scoffed.

"I'm fine. Are you?"

"No. I don't understand why you won't fuck me."

I shook my head. Sometimes she liked to miss my point on purpose. I knew she wasn't ignorant, but she loved to act it.

"Do you not want to spend actual time with me? Why does it always have to be about sex?"

"I thought you liked it," she pouted.

"Oh, no, no, no," I replied. "Don't turn this around. You know how much I love it... With you. That should be an unshakeable fact. So don't pull that card. Why can't we just lie down together and relax?"

"Fine," she sighed and laid her head down on the opposite side of the couch away from me.

"Baby... Please come back. I'm cold now."

She grumbled, and I sat up to chastise her silently but she returned her eyes to the TV screen, now suddenly interested in the programming. She was easy to overpower though, and I scooped her up to bring her back to my side. I laid her in front of me and held her close, tucking her head under my chin, keeping her there locked in my arms.

When she started nipping at my neck, I pulled back with a sigh and searched her impish eyes.

Lowering my voice to a whisper, I stroked her hair back and prepared to ask a question that I feared the answer to. "Why is it always about sex?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do. Tell me."

"You're hot? I don't know. You make me horny."

"I've made you orgasm about twenty times in the last few days. That's not enough for you? We can't just spend a night together having dinner and enjoying each other's company?"

"Yes, we can."

"Well?"

"I'm sorry. I thought that's what you wanted."

Shaking my head, I tried not to sigh too heavily. "Of course, I want sex. But I need more than that. Don't you want more than that?"

Her mouth formed a contemplative line across her face and she took her eyes from me. "Yes."

"Are you sure? Because it seems like all you want to do is tear my clothes off or tease me or something."

"Sorry," she whispered.

I kissed her warm forehead, enjoying the feeling so much that I had to do it again. She nuzzled back into me but kept her hips still. A hot sigh spread over my chest and she clung to me. Finally.

I watched TV, and she pressed her body up close, hooking her arm under mine for comfort.

"Can we talk about something?" Her words crept up my neck. I drew back an inch to look at her, nodding hastily.

"Of course, baby."

"I'm afraid if I don't give you what you were missing... You'll just go back to her and I won't have you anymore--"

"Oh, baby--"

"I'm not done," she gripped the front of my shirt until I pressed my lips shut. "I'm scared that you'll get bored just like you got bored with her."

I started to shake my head, not wanting to cut her off but what she said punched through my ribs and took hold of my heart in a razored grip. Enough quiet passed through to indicate she was open for a response.

"It's not that I got bored with my wife... I mean, yes, it got boring, but that was because she wanted as much distance between us as possible. I know it might suck to hear this but... I tried everything to save my marriage. I didn't want it to end. Of course, it ended but now I've found somebody that matches me in all the best ways. Beautiful, smart, so kind to everyone, hilarious... Little sex-fiend."

"That's another thing I wanted to talk to you about."

"What?"

"The... The sex thing," she hesitated.

I said nothing to allow her as much floor as possible. She toyed with a button on my shirt and for a moment I thought she might have changed her mind about speaking until she sighed through her nose and looked up at me again.

"I'm just afraid if I don't put out for you, you'll find someone else who will."

"That... That's silly. That's not what you do in a relationship."

"I know... But--"

"You don't just move on to the next because somebody doesn't feel like having sex for a day or two."

She nodded soberly and ran the pad of her finger over the shiny button. I kissed her head again and returned to my position searching her expression for any other information.

"Why do you think that?"

She shrugged her shoulders quickly, but it was just a way to dismiss the question I knew there was an answer to. I pushed her only a little more.

"Hey. Why do you think I'll leave you if you're not constantly fucking me?"

She gave a fake chuckle. "I don't know."

"Well, I don't want you thinking that way. We can have a day like this of just talking. I'm not going to throw in the towel because my girlfriend doesn't want to fuck me for one day."

"I love it when you call me that," she sighed.

"It's true. You're mine. Whether we skip sex for one day or two... Or longer. Yes, I got hooked on your body when we first met. But it's more than that now. Don't you think?"

"I hope so," she whispered.

"It is! You know it is. You make me so goddamn happy. I could just exist with you."

The smile returned to her face and the icy clutches around my thumping heart loosened. "You're so different from any other man I've been with."

"Then you probably haven't been with any real men. Just boys."

"My ex is the one that put me in that mindset... By the way," she informed me.

"Oh?"

"Yes," she nodded. "He wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Babe," I murmured.

"I was useless to him if I wasn't giving him some."

I didn't want to hear what she was saying but I would never tell her to stop. Closing my eyes, I tried to will away the hatred that burned there for somebody I didn't know. Anyone that may have hurt her in the past was my enemy. I didn't need to see their faces to know that I wished the worst for them. And I wasn't a vindictive person. But when it came to her, something inside of me went wild. I thought of the things Theodore said about her earlier that day and that only added timber to the fire stoking in my chest.

"Listen to me," I clutched her face earnestly. "You don't owe any man a fucking thing. Not me or anybody. If you say no, that's it. It's no. I will never ever push you past that point if it were to arise. And I never want you thinking that you have to earn your spot next to me with sex. That's... God, that pisses me off."

A small laugh left her mouth. "It's all right--"

"It's not fucking all right. That's not all right at all."

Her lips brushed mine but I was almost too angry to return the kiss. She stuffed her face into my neck and hugged me tightly until I returned the gesture.

"I love you," she spoke against my throat.

Don't cry, Deaver. Don't you fucking cry.

[blackjacktheboss]

those memories from the kiddies are so adorable I love them!!!! Do Percy and Annabeth have favorite memories with them or memories that stick out or is just every memory with them their favorite cause it’s their kids lol

thank you! 

Percy: 

Theo’s first breath changed Percy’s whole life in such a fundamental way and every time he watches Theo blow out his birthday candles, that’s the moment that his mind goes back to and it makes his heart feel like it’s gonna explode form happiness 

when Amelia was like 12 she told Percy she just “couldn’t do school” that day so he called out sick from work and they spent the day playing hooky together. They spent most of it at the aquarium, just talking about everything and making up stories about the animals in the tank (some of which the animals did Not appreciate) and on the drive home Amelia just looked at him and said “dad, you’re one of my favorite people” and he said “you’re one of my favorite people too, peanut” 

one time Percy got super sick with the flu and while he was largely delirious, he remembers waking up periodically to Ruthie’s face right up in front of his and her little voice saying “daddy are you alive” and he’d say “yes baby I’m alive” and she’d just say “okay” or “good”, kiss him on the cheek or the forehead and run off back to whatever she had been doing. Afterward, Annabeth told him that Ruthie kept telling Annabeth what he needed (water, soup, medicine, etc) and even if Annabeth had already done it, Ruthie would not relax until Annabeth went and physically showed her what she had gotten/done for him. She even stole Annabeth’s phone and called her uncle Malcolm who is a doctor (PhD doctor, but still) to ask for his “professional opinion” 

Annabeth: 

Well the first time she heard his heartbeat, she thought that it was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. But also she remembers one night when she got home late and had been working really crazy hours. Theo was 4 and Amelia was almost 2 (Ruthie was yet to be on the way), and Annabeth was feeling really bad about herself for not being around enough. Percy had already gone to bed and she was down on the couch just sulking and drinking wine. Eventually she fell asleep and when she woke up, around 4, there was a blanket on her that had not been there when she fell asleep. At first she thought it had been Percy, but when she went to shift, she suddenly realized there was a weight next to her. Theo had wedged himself under her arm as she slept on her side and his right hand was lightly holding her left hand. She snuggled him in close and went back to sleep and the next morning, Percy showed her all the drawings (building designs) Theo had been making all week for a “portfolio” that he wanted to show her. She didn’t have to be perfect. She was doing okay. One of her most important mom moments. 

the first summer Amelia started going to CHB she had seemed completely unaffected at drop off. She didn’t cry or beg her parents not to leave, she just said bye and see you in a couple months. So the next week when Annabeth was at her work desk and the mail clerk delivered a letter from Amelia Jackson at Camp Half Blood in Long Island, New York, she was a little stunned to say the least. That was the beginning of a summer long correspondence, and Annabeth saved every letter her daughter sent her (about one every other day). It was easy to think Amelia had outgrown her, and that summer was a good reminder that her cool exterior was just that, and her baby girl still wanted to hear from her mom.

When Ruthie is 7, Annabeth takes her on a work trip to San Francisco where they end up visiting with Annabeth’s dad and step mom. While she had met them before, Ruthie had never spend any significant time with that set of grandparents but it seemed to go well when they were there. On the drive back to their hotel, Ruthie commented that the rental car smelled weird and Annabeth nodded along, just trying to decompress from the family time when Ruthie pressed on and said “Mommy, how come Nina doesn’t like your step mom? She seemed nice to me.” Annabeth tried to process what her kid had said and what followed was more question dodging than Annabeth thought a 7 year old capable of (except when she thought of herself at 7) and what she was left with was knowing that 1) Ruthie apparently prayed to her godly grandmother, and it seemed as though the goddess answered 2) Athena did Not like Frederick’s choice of wife “but she likes uncle Bobby and uncle Matthew… she says they’re smart like grandpa Fred”. Just a perfect example of her little ray of sunshine reaching to every stretch of the universe, so bright that even the great goddess Athena couldn’t ignore her. 

[captainsonofabitch]

Steter or Steo- Harry Potter AU

im sorrrrrrrry, this isnt really what I was imagining but my brain didnt really want to cooperate :)

Stiles was in the Room of Requirement again. It was nothing new; he spent most of his time in there now, in one form or another. Since Scott had been adopted into the ‘Cool, Popular, Interhouse Squad’ as Stiles liked to call it, the boy had left his former best friend in the dust. Apparently intelligent, hyperactive Slytherins were Not Allowed. And so, as Scott began to spend more and more time with the group, Stiles had to find something to fill the void left by the Gryffindor.

That something ended up being the Room of Requirement. You see, no matter what mood Stiles was in – whether he wanted to read or dance or cry or simply find something to occupy his ever-active mind – the room had a variety to suit. Of course, Stiles had his favourites; the dim, cosy, purple lounge that often appeared to match his melancholy; the light, bright, yellow study that he could spend hours upon hours researching in; the gentle, cavernous, sky blue bedroom that he had spent many a night hiding away from his dormmates within. It had a colour for every emotion, a setup for every passion. Stiles had tried ballet in a studio it had conjured one day, ice skating another. The room had created a swimming pool, a muggle-esque gym, a painting studio, hell there had even been that one time where the magic had conjured an entire muggle kitchen and Stiles had spent a long afternoon and evening baking to his hearts content. Long story short, Stiles loved the room, the room loved Stiles, and nobody had ever bothered him within its comforting confines.

Until one day, because for unfortunately for Snakes like Stiles, their Head of House took student wellbeing and safety very seriously. Sometimes. When he had a vested ‘interest’ in the student.

It had been an afternoon like any other. Scott was sitting down for lunch with the usual group; Lydia, Jackson, Derek, Cora, Isaac, Erica, Boyd and Allison, and Stiles was across the Great Hall tucking into a veritable feast of fresh fruit alone. The guy sitting beside him – What was his name again? Theo? – leaned uncomfortably close to Stiles’ ear and chuckled, “You know Professor Hale is staring at you again, right?” To which the boy promptly choked on his mouthful and spat semi-chewed raspberries across the table in front of him. Theo laughed again.

“What the fuck, man! Why would you say that?” Stiles turned to glare at the boy beside him, narrowing his eyes. The smirk Theo sent back was infuriating.

“You know as well as I do that he’s obsessed with you. What, with the way you two flirt in Arithmancy I’m surprised he hasn’t… I dunno… Snapped and fucked you over the desk or something.”

Heat filled Stiles’ face and he spluttered indignantly.

“We do not flirt! If anything, he antagonises me and I retaliate! There is no flirting going on at all! None!”

Theo hummed.

“Whatever you say, dude. Doesn’t change the fact that he looks at you like he wants to eat you. Pretty hot if you ask me.”

“Well I didn’t,” Stiles snapped, and the conversation was finished. He stood up with a screech of the bench and hastily gathered his things, stalking from the Great Hall with his face still an embarrassing shade of red.

Stiles didn’t see Professor Hale getting up to follow, but Theo did. His cackles followed them both from the room.

Mood sufficiently soured and with no classes for the remainder of the day, the Slytherin decided to forgo the common room and his dorm and instead head towards his little sanctuary, wondering at what room would await him today. It took little time to reach the seventh floor, the seventhsixhs-year ducking in and out of shortcuts he had discovered throughout his many escapades through the Castle.

Blissfully aware of the figure shadowing him, Stiles emerged from behind a suit of armour and practically jogged over to the wall that housed his favourite room(s), hastily walking back and forth his required three times before a small, dark oak doorway appeared. With a murmured ‘Fuck yeah!’ he pushed it open and ducked inside, grinning dopily at the pale blues that made up what he had dubbed his ‘Comfort Room.’

The room was pretty small, cosy and well-lit with magically created sunlight streaming in from a skylight in the very centre. Sitting elevated in the shafted sunlight was a four-poster bed decked out in royal blue, silken sheets with an abundance of blankets and pillows strewn haphazardly across the top. There wasn’t much more to the room, plush carpets in a baby blue making up the floorspace and a decadent chaise-lounge settled in the far corner, but it was what Stiles needed when his head was too loud or he was feeling particularly homesick or vulnerable and that’s all that mattered. It provided comfort he couldn’t find anywhere else in the Castle, and in that room the Castle took care of him.

Stiles made a beeline for the bed, kicking his sneakers off and ditching his robe as he dug his toes into the thick material of the carpet. His bag was put down with little finesse and, with a silly little noise of content from the back of his throat, he flopped face-first down onto the smooth sheets.  Manoeuvring himself further onto the large mattress, the boy rocked onto his side, tucked his knees up to his chin and simply exhaled, allowing his eyes to flutter shut with every intention of simply taking a much-needed nap.

Apparently, someone had other plans.

There was a pointed cough and then a voice echoed across the room.

“So this is where you’ve been disappearing to. I had wondered why no one has seen you in the common room in a while…”

Stiles could only groan. Why, out of everyone who could have confronted him, did it have to be Professor Hale?

“What, your spies tell you I’ve been skipping out on our weekly Slytherin board games night? Were you worried about me, Sir?” Stiles snarked in response, rolling over so that he was laying on his side but now facing the doorway where his Head of House was standing.

“I only spy because I care. You know this. Well, because I care and because it entertains me endlessly to so blatantly abuse my authority over my Prefects,” he replied.

Stiles stifled a laugh with the hand trapped between his body and the bed. He met the man’s eyes and flushed at the fond look the elder was sending him. Sometimes Professor Hale did that; looked at him with such sincerity and care that soothed some part of Stiles that he hadn’t even realised was in unrest. Peter started towards him.

“Tormenting Jackson does sound like an enjoyable pastime, I suppose. In that case, I guess I can forgive the blatant abuse of power, Peter.”

“Much appreciated, Mieczysław.”

Peter stopped just beside the bed where Stiles lay, grinning down at his pupil. The boy in question smiled in return, falling onto his back and snorting out a quiet laugh.

“So what happens now that you’ve discovered my secret hideout? Are you going to give me detention for the rest  of the year? Kick me out of the house? Tell me how much I’m letting Slytherin down? Because, don’t worry, I already kno-“

Stiles was cut off by a firm hand over his mouth, furrowing his brow and glaring up at his professor indignantly. Peter looked… anxious? Stiles couldn’t quite decipher the look, but as the man leaned down closer, face hovering inches above his students, realisation dawned.

“Please,” Peter murmured. “Tell me to stop.”

Stiles, eyes wide, shook his head slightly as the elder’s hand left his lips.

“And if I don’t?”

Lifting from the bed mere inches, the boy squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his mouth carefully to the others. Peter gasped quietly against him. When Stiles dropped his head back down onto the pillow, his professor followed, lips chasing the sad attempt at a kiss. Letting his eyes blink open, he witnessed the look in Peter’s eyes go from shocked to amazed in mere moments.

Their lips connected once again, this time more firmly, and a large hand came up to cup the nape of Stiles’ neck, keeping them pressed close. Humming contentedly, the boy dared to flick his tongue out, running it cheekily across Peter’s lower lip and grinning at the sweet tang of Pumpkin Juice that must have lingered from lunch. It was Peter’s turn to make a low noise, climbing so he was astride Stiles on the bed and pretty much securing the younger to the bed with his weight. Reluctantly, the professor pulled back.

“We… We shouldn’t do this. Talia will have my head…”

Stiles scoffed. “What can the Headmistress do about it? In a few months I’ll be out of here forever, off to Romania with Charlie. Soon enough it’ll be out of her jurisdiction all together, so what does it matter?”

Stiles gazed upwards at the man as he pondered what the boy had said, fear giving way to consideration and finally settling on confidence. His signature smug smirk returned and he pressed a chaste kiss to Stiles’ brow.

“You’re right. As usual, I suppose. I do so adore your smart-ass nature.”

Stiles barked out a laugh and grinned stupidly up at his chuckling head-of-house.

“Well, you’re stuck with it now.”

[aidanchaser]

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince: Everyone Lives AU

Table of Contents beta’d by @ageofzero and @magic713m

Chapter Six Draco’s Detour

Malfoy Manor had become a busy place this summer, but Draco did his best not to participate. He kept to himself as often as he could. His bedroom, with its high ceilings and gold and silver leaf decor over white marble, was a relative safe-haven, even though being alone with his thoughts was not ideal.

He spent most of his time attending to one of two mental tasks: either Occlumency or, as Draco had begun thinking of it, “The Plan.”

Occlumency was easy, at least in concept. He had to practice not thinking, and hope that when Aunt Bella tried to read his mind at breakfast the next morning, he could conceal his thoughts from her. It had been difficult at first, and he’d seethed as she teased him about Pansy Parkinson or his struggles in Care of Magical Creatures. The worst breakfast had been the one where she’d uncovered a memory of a letter he’d nearly sent to Remus Lupin last year — he’d thrown it away, it was nothing, really — but it didn’t stop Bella from going into one of her worst tirades. She’d suggested if Draco wanted to learn something from a vicious creature, he could spend an evening with Fenrir Greyback.

Draco shivered just from the memory of it and tried to clear his mind in the way Occlumency required, but it was hard to get Bella’s shrill, furious voice out of his head.

So instead he turned his attention to the Plan. It wasn’t a great plan, not yet, and he would need to have reserve plans, just in case one of them failed. So far, he only had the outline of the first one.

Draco paced his bedroom slowly. By now, he was familiar with exactly how many steps it took him to circle the room, as familiar as if it were a prison. Ten from bed to window, where he could look out at the pure white peacocks that strutted around the yard and shrieked as shrilly as Aunt Bellatrix. The sun was just beginning to rise and Draco rubbed his eyes. He did not realize he had been up all night.

It was five more steps to his desk, where old textbooks were stacked and blank parchment laid out. Draco had initially sat down to write out his ideas, but he’d found himself afraid to put anything to paper. Instead, he kept all his thoughts in his head, which, while allowing him some measure of secrecy, certainly made it more difficult to review details.

But secrecy was a necessary measure. His mother had tried, fervently, to make him reveal his Plan, but he knew he didn’t need her help. She probably thought his silence a sign of incompetence, and it only made him angrier. He resented each time she asked to help or offered advice. He had a plan, and the sum of it was rather good; it would just require some very difficult magic Draco wasn’t sure he could perform.

But there was magic he was certainly good at — the Imperius Curse, for one. While Draco had been unable to resist the Imperius Curse in Moody’s class, he’d become adept at performing it under Aunt Bella’s tutelage. Macnair and Yaxley could have done with a lesson from Moody.

The Imperius Curse, however, was only a backup plan. Draco knew it could be unreliable. The victim could be discovered or they could lose their mind resisting and his entire plan would unravel. And, he would somehow need to communicate with the Imperiused person without being detected. It was too risky. Useful, but on its own it would not suffice.

It was only three steps from his bedroom to the door, which opened up into his own private receiving area. It had been something of a nursery when Draco was younger, and as he grew, it turned into his own private parlor. When his parents guests brought their children to dinner parties, their children would spend time up here, with Draco. Occasionally that meant Crabbe and Goyle, who were as thick as they were wide and did little other than eat the snacks the house-elf had provided. More often, it was Leonardo and Theodore Nott who visited. While Leo was a few years older than them, Theo was Draco’s age, and they’d been close as children. The books on the shelves were ones they held a common interest in — books about dark creatures, diagrams of mysterious artefacts, or mysterious, unexplained phenomena in wizarding history. In addition to the books, the shelves were full of dark artefacts and preservation jars of dark creatures, not unlike Snape’s dungeon back at Hogwarts.

Beneath the window was a tea table, where the house-elf was carefully setting out tea. Though her hands shook so badly the silver clattered loud enough to give Draco a headache, he felt relief. If Winky was setting tea up in his room, there would be no formal breakfast downstairs. That meant the Dark Lord was away on business.

Worse than Occlumency lessons, worse than Unforgivable Curse lessons, worse than mulling over the Plan, was dining with the Dark Lord. Draco had met him for the first time last Christmas, when he’d come home from Hogwarts for the holiday. While the Malfoys had never been exuberant celebrators, the Dark Lord’s presence had made for an exceptionally damp and dreary holiday, especially since the Dark Lord had been furious with his recent failure in seeking out the prophecy about Harry Potter. This summer, since the prophecy had been destroyed and Lucius Malfoy arrested, had been far worse.

The door opened without warning and Draco immediately steeled both his mind and nerves, prepared for a Legilimency attack from Aunt Bella, or something worse, but it was only his mother in the doorway. Usually she knocked, but she appeared to be in quite the hurry.

“Good, you are awake. And you’re dressed — are those yesterday’s robes? — never mind, Draco, we need to leave quickly.”

Draco noted the wide-brimmed hat on her head and the purse in her hand. “Where are we going?”

“Diagon Alley,” she said impatiently. “You need your school things.”

Draco flushed. He had told his mother he’d be going to Diagon Alley today, but he’d meant it more as a polite way of informing her he’d be out of the house. He had not meant it as a request for escort. He had other things to take care of, things he couldn’t do under her watch. “I don’t need you to take me, Mother. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Hurry up, eat your breakfast. It will take us quite some time to get through the security at Gringotts — and you —” Narcissa Malfoy’s mouth curled in disgust as she turned to the house-elf, “— that racket is entirely unacceptable. If you can’t even serve a meal without banging dents in the silver, what are you good for?”

Winky the house-elf bowed quickly, stammering out a flurry of apologies and promising to appropriately punish herself. She wasn’t so different from Dobby, though she burned meals less often, which Draco appreciated. Winky had joined the Malfoy family after the Triwizard Tournament. She’d needed employment after Barty Crouch, Jr. had been killed, and the Malfoys had been suffering with a small wizard staff for two years. It was a drain on comfort and finances, as far as Draco was concerned. Winky had been an excellent solution, until the Dark Lord had borrowed her shortly after the winter holidays. He hadn’t said why, only that he needed to “check on something important.” Winky hadn’t been the same since she’d returned.

But his mother had a point. House-elves were not meant to make a scene, so Draco had little sympathy as she vanished from the sitting room, presumably to punish herself.

There was little Draco could do to get out of going to Diagon Alley with his mother, so, with as much sulk as possible, Draco ate his breakfast and followed her down to the entrance. Her heels clicked against the white tile flooring, which had the unfortunate effect of alerting Aunt Bella to their departure.

She appeared in front of the door almost as quickly as if she had Apparated there, though it was impossible to Apparate within Malfoy Manor.

“Where are you two off to?” Aunt Bella asked in a falsely sweet voice.

Draco did his best to empty his mind as his mother answered.

“Just getting Draco’s school things, Bella. It’s a shame you can’t join us.” Narcissa tried to step past her but Bella grabbed her arm.

“Oh, come now, little sister. It wouldn’t be terribly hard — I could just take a lock of your hair and put it in a little potion. Draco and I could have a lovely shopping day together.”

If Narcissa was at all terrified of the idea of her sister stealing her identity, Draco couldn’t see it on her face. She was as polite and impassive as ever. “If it would please you, Bella, by all means, take Draco to Gringotts. He’ll need new robes from Madam Malkin’s, and his N.E.W.T-level textbooks from Flourish and Blotts, and fresh potion supplies from —”

Bella let go of Narcissa with a roll of her eyes. “You can’t even indulge me in a little joke?” She stepped aside and let Narcissa open the door. “Have a good time with mummy, Draco.” She blew him a kiss. “Do let me know if she takes any detours she shouldn’t.”

This last statement sacrificed her falsely sweet voice for a terrifyingly honest snarl. Draco hurried after his mother without even a good-bye.

Bella had watched Narcissa like a hawk this last month. Draco didn’t know the details of it, but he knew his mother had gone to Snape for help and Bella had been displeased. Draco had been displeased, too. He resented the way his mother bent so easily under the Dark Lord, under Bella, and he resented the way his mother didn’t believe he was capable of fulfilling the Dark Lord’s order. She didn’t believe he could do it, and she’d gone to Snape — Snape of all people — for help.

True, Snape had been Draco’s favorite teacher for years. Snape was head of Slytherin and had always been helpful to Draco in both Defense class and Potions class. Snape had a deep knowledge of the Dark Arts that Draco respected and admired. But that seemed like a lifetime ago.

Since then, Draco had lost his father and he knew it was Snape’s fault. Snape was the one who had told the Dark Lord that the prophecy was stored in the Department of Mysteries. Snape was the one who told the Dark Lord that there might be more he hadn’t initially overheard, and that the Dark Lord should find a way to claim it, perhaps finding the secret to killing Potter. Snape was the one who had been the bait to lure Potter to the Ministry and — worst of all — all the Death Eaters knew Snape was still fond of Lily Potter.

Draco didn’t know which disgusted him more. That Snape loved a Mudblood or that Snape was responsible for his father’s sentence in Azkaban. Or, worse than that, Snape was still on Voldemort’s arm, at least as close as Bella was. Draco was going to change that. He may have feared Bella, but he was eager to make her proud, to make the Dark Lord proud, and to avenge what was done to his father. Failure was not an option.

Narcissa Apparated them to London, which Draco supposed was one benefit of going with his mother. He had another year before he would be seventeen and could even take his Apparition exam. They entered Diagon Alley through the Leaky Cauldron, as most wizards did. Draco was used to Tom, the barman, greeting them with a certain amount of grace. Today, Tom hardly looked up from the glass he was polishing.

The unusually empty bar should have been a clue to Draco, but he was still stunned to see how much Diagon Alley had changed in the few short months since the Dark Lord’s return was made public.

Every shop window had been covered in Ministry of Magic leaflets and posters. It was impossible to window shop; all someone would get out of it would be a sense of paranoia, terrible advice on defending oneself from Dark Wizard attacks, and maybe a sneer from an Azkaban wanted poster. The ice cream shop next to the Leaky Cauldron was boarded up and a notice had been posted saying, “Please owl Auror Marcy Longfellow with any information on the whereabouts of Florean Fortescue.” It was marked with the gold Ministry of Magic seal. The windows of the shop next door were plastered in Death Eaters. Aunt Bella’s face looked strange to Draco. She was laughing maniacally, and her eyes were crazed. She was so haughty at home. Perhaps not as poised as his mother, but she’d shown a measure of control, and even the photographs of her and Narcissa from their youth showed her arrogance. That wasn’t to say Draco had never seen her madness, he’d just only seen it in her rage, not her laughter. He shivered, unsure which was worse.

Narcissa and Draco hurried on to Gringotts at the end of Diagon Alley. They passed several stalls that had cropped up over the summer, advertising defense against werewolves, Inferi, dementors, and even Dark Wizards themselves. Draco wondered how some magical broach could possibly determine who was or wasn’t a “Dark Wizard,” but he gave the booth as wide a berth as possible.

The most interesting shop and most noticeable, by far, was the brand new “Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.” Everything in the windows flew, flipped, or flashed. A bright purple poster with gold lettering heralded their latest product: “U-No-Poo.” It was an excellent parody of the Ministry of Magic posters plastered in Diagon Alley and just for that, Draco almost found it funny. He had little interest in supporting a Weasley business, but there were a few things advertised in that shop window that caught his eye. Their advertisement for their recently imported Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, for one, looked particularly useful. Draco made a note to pick up a catalog when they passed by it again.

As his mother had predicted, it took them quite a while to get their money from Gringotts. Draco wasn’t fond of goblins, but at least they didn’t throw the Malfoys distrustful looks, no more than they did any other wizards. The only thing that the goblins had an interest in was keeping their clients’ gold safe and ready for use. The Malfoys were still important clients. That didn’t protect them from all the wand-waving, probity-probing, and sight-scanning all clients had to go through before being allowed to access their vault.

Once they’d secured enough gold to last them a fair while, they made their first stop at Flourish and Blotts. Draco had received an Outstanding on his Potions O.W.L., so he picked up Advanced Potion-Making. He also got the new Defense textbook, Confronting the Faceless. Draco didn’t know who the new Defense teacher would be, but the book certainly looked more interesting than the one Umbridge had assigned. He also guessed by the title that they would do something they’d never done in her class: actually cast defensive spells.

Draco was also taking Charms and Transfiguration at N.E.W.T. level so he picked up those textbooks as well. He’d achieved O.W.L.s in a few other subjects, like Astronomy and Herbology, but he didn’t have much interest in taking those classes.

Truthfully, Draco didn’t have much interest in any of his classes. Potions and Defense had always been interesting subjects to him, but even those didn’t matter much in the face of the task he’d been given. If he’d come to Diagon Alley without his mother, Draco might not have even stopped for his school books or the potions supplies they picked up next. He had interest in one thing, and it was around the corner in Knockturn Alley.

But Draco certainly wasn’t going to take his mother with him for that task. He’d have to find a way to slip out of her sight.

Draco was just considering telling his mother he needed to run back for a bag of gnarl quills he’d forgotten to grab from the potions shop, and surely she could go along without him, when she pulled him into Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions.

The shop bell jingled as they entered, and the bustle of Diagon Alley vanished, replaced by the click of a sewing machine and the gentle sound of a harp. Madam Malkin stood from her desk as they entered and the clicking noise stopped. She took off her glasses to get a better look at them.

“My, Mister Malfoy, how you’ve grown. I imagine your school robes hardly fit anymore. Come, come, let’s get you fitted.”

“He’s outgrown his dress robes as well,” Narcissa said, as they walked to the full-length mirrors and the fitting stool. Draco ignored her hand and stepped onto it without assistance. “Have you anything new in stock?”

“I have a fresh design set from Berlin, arrived just last week. We can look over the patterns and see if there’s anything to Mister Malfoy’s taste, perhaps even something for yourself, Mrs. Malfoy.”

“Thank you, but I’m just here for Draco today.”

“You didn’t need to be here,” he muttered.

“I couldn’t let you go about Diagon Alley by yourself, Draco.”

She reached out to stroke his hair, but Draco ducked away from her. He held his arms out and let Madam Malkin pin the robes on and tried to look serious. The face looking back at him in the mirror just looked petulant.

“I’m not a child, in case you hadn’t noticed, Mother.” He stared at himself as he spoke, watched how his brow furrowed like a child’s might before a tantrum and tried to compose his features. It only served to make him look tired. He’d always been pale, but he thought he looked lighter than usual. Maybe the lighting in here was just awful. He tried again to sound grown up. “I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping alone.”

Madame Malkin clicked her tongue at him as she pinned the sleeve of his new robe to the shoulder. His pale skin turned pink as she chided him, like he was a toddler instead of sixteen.

“Now, dear, your mother’s quite right, none of us is supposed to go wandering on our own anymore. It’s nothing to do with being a child —”

One of the pins caught in Draco’s shoulder and he flinched. His exhaustion and his frustration overwhelmed him. “Watch where you’re sticking that pin, will you!”

Madam Malkin huffed irritably as Draco stalked from the single full-length mirror to the three-fold mirror that would show the robes from all sides. He caught sight of four people standing at the door and he did not think his mood could get worse, but it did.

“If you’re wondering what that smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in.”

Madam Malkin hurried over with her tape measure as Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Neville Longbottom each drew their wands. Hermione Granger stood behind them, trying to pull them back, insisting it wasn’t worth the fight, but she only had two hands.

“I don’t think there is any need for language like that!” said Madam Malkin. “And I don’t want wands drawn in my shop, either.”

“Yeah, like you lot would dare do magic outside of school,” Malfoy snapped. “Really, Longbottom, what curse do you think you’re going to get off on me? You’re not even pointing your wand the right way.”

To Draco’s delight, Longbottom did in fact check to make sure he was holding his wand correctly.

“That is quite enough!” Madam Malkin said. “Madam — Please —” She looked back at Narcissa for help, as if Draco would somehow listen to her more than Madam Malkin.

Narcissa strode over and the disgust she’d shown at Winky’s poor service was visible once again as she looked over Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom. “Put those away.” There was no anger in her voice, only hard, cold, immovable steel. “If you ever attack my family, I shall ensure it is the last thing you ever do.”

Potter stepped forward. He seemed to wear the white scar marring his dark forehead like a proud badge. His green eyes flashed with arrogance. “Going to get a few Death Eater pals to do us in, are you?”

Madam Malkin looked like she was going to have a heart attack. Her hands flew to her chest and all the color drained from her face. “Really — you shouldn’t accuse — dangerous thing to say — wands away, please!”

But Potter did not stow his wand.

“I see,” Narcissa said in a low voice, “that being Dumbledore’s favorite has given you a false sense of security, Harry Potter. But Dumbledore won’t always be there to protect you.”

Draco’s heart raced. His ears grew hot, but his face seemed cold. It was not a confession, barely even a warning, but Draco knew she meant those words, more seriously than Potter could even fathom.

Potter looked around the store, mock surprise fueling his arrogance. “Wow, look at that. He’s not here now! So why not have a go? They might be able to find you a double cell in Azkaban with your loser of a husband.”

Rage burned in Draco, hot, white, eating at his exhaustion. He stepped forward, forgetting Madam Malkin had not finished pinning the hem. He stumbled over the excess fabric.

The shop bell rang as the door opened one more time. Draco’s mother caught his shoulder, holding him steady and holding him back. Then her hands tightened and her nails dug into his skin. Draco looked up and saw why.

“… won’t be long.” Sirius Black turned from whoever he’d been talking to in the doorway and surveyed the scene in Madam Malkin’s shop: the boys’ wands drawn, Hermione trying to talk them down, Narcissa composed and Draco furious, and poor Madam Malkin, who decided it might be best just to ignore it all together, and began fixing Draco’s hem.

Sirius didn’t look too well himself. Half of his face was washed in purple, the yellow edges of a bruise fading into his pale skin. He adjusted his leather jacket and Draco saw his hands, too, were marked with red and purple blotches. Draco thought he’d offer a bag of galleons to whatever Dark Wizard had cursed Sirius Black so completely.

But once Draco got past the injuries, he was struck by just how much Sirius looked like his mother and his aunt. He’d only seen Sirius Black at a handful of Hogwarts Quidditch games, but here, as Sirius and Narcissa stared each other down, it was impossible to deny just how alike they looked. Draco had never, not for a minute, considered that Sirius Black was related to him,. Now he could not see how he had missed it.

Before Draco could decide what to do with this information, Madam Malkin, determined to carry on as if nothing was wrong, started to roll up his left sleeve. “I think this left sleeve should come up just a bit more, dear, let me just —”

“Ouch!” he slapped her hand away, though she had not pricked him. “Watch where you’re putting your pins, woman!” Mother — I don’t think I want these anymore.” Draco yanked the robes off, pins and all, and tossed them to the floor.

“You’re right, Draco.” His mother kept her eyes on Sirius, like she hadn’t decided if she knew him or not. “Now that I know the kind of scum that shops here, I think we’ll do better at Twilfitt and Tatting’s.”

Draco pushed past them, knocking against Ron as he did so. He pulled the door of the shop open to the street and was startled to find a very large shape in his way. Carefully, he edged around Hagrid, and without looking back to see if his mother was following, walked up the street to Twilfitt and Tatting’s.

This time, Draco and his mother did not fight over whether Draco should or shouldn’t be able to do his shopping alone. They maintained a tense silence, commenting only on the fit of the school robes and the design of the custom dress robes they ordered. Narcissa ordered a set of dress robes for herself, as well.

Narcissa slipped the box of robes into the bag of books. “Why don’t we take care of Quidditch supplies next?”

It was a thoughtful peace offering. She knew Draco liked Quidditch, and he would be able to make decisions about the purchases she could not, since she didn’t know very much about the sport. But Draco only bristled. He hadn’t thought once about Quidditch since his last match against Hufflepuff. That was before O.W.L.s, before his father had been arrested, before he’d been given his monumental task.

Narcissa noticed his displeasure and suggested an alternative. “If you don’t need Quidditch supplies this year, then our last stop is getting owl pellets for Ulysses, and I believe he might need a new traveling cage. That old one’s gotten a bit tarnished, hasn’t it?”

“I don’t need to buy pellets for a stupid hand-me-down owl,” Draco snapped.

Draco had seen his mother angry plenty of times, but he’d never seen her angry at something he’d said.

“Ulysses is a family owl, not a hand-me-down. You should be proud to own him — I thought you were proud of him!”

“Finish the shopping yourself. I’ll meet you at the Leaky Cauldron.”

“No —” She reached for him, but Draco had already slipped out of her reach. He did not head straight for Knockturn Alley. Instead, he slipped through the crowd and right into the Quidditch shop. He could hear his mother calling for him, and he waited until she had entered the shop to slip out without her noticing. Draco was content to let her search among the broom racks and practice robes. He had more important business.

His first stop was Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. He knew better than to go inside. He did not think Fred and George Weasley would give him any business, not if they knew it was him. But he snatched one of the catalogs from the stand outside the shop and hastily flipped through it. The description of the Instant Darkness Powder he’d seen demonstrated in the shop window certainly sounded useful. The Decoy Detonators weren’t bad either. He didn’t see much use for the section titled, “WonderWitch,” and the Muggle tricks looked utterly ridiculous. The fireworks, while flashy, probably wouldn’t help him. But some of the prank products seemed practical for Draco’s needs. Even the Skiving Snackbox might be helpful if he needed to make an inconspicuous getaway.

Draco glanced over his shoulder one more time to make sure that his mother hadn’t followed him then hurried back to Knockturn Alley.

Draco had been to Knockturn Alley a few times before with his father, and most often, they stopped at Borgin and Burkes. There were other pawn shops on the street, but none staffed by respectable wizards who were willing to make discrete purchases. The Ministry had tightened rules on Dark Artefacts in recent years and the Malfoys had needed to pass along certain items. At the time, Draco hadn’t realized the half of what the objects could do. Now, he wished he had them. They might make his job much easier.

But the Plan didn’t involve dark objects. It involved one specific object, and a strange event that had occurred last spring. Fred and George Weasley had shoved Graham Montague into a Vanishing Cabinet located somewhere within Hogwarts. Montague had, as the cabinet’s name suggested, Vanished. Draco hadn’t cared too much about Vanishing Cabinets, even after Montague’s disappearance. It wasn’t until Montague came back that Draco’s interest was piqued.

Montague had talked at length about his experience, to anyone who would listen. He would moan and complain about the Weasley twins, and say that while he was trapped inside the cabinet, he’d heard bits of conversation from Borgin and Burkes. That had intrigued Draco, who was well aware one could not Apparate nor Disapparate on the Hogwarts grounds. And when Draco had been set his task by the Dark Lord, he had begun further research on Vanishing Cabinets.

Sure enough, when Draco entered Borgin and Burkes, the large cabinet he’d recalled from his childhood visits was still there.

Mr. Borgin sat at his shop counter, examining a glass box that appeared to be empty. Draco wondered if it housed an invisible object or a curse, but he didn’t dwell on it long. He had a more pressing task ahead of him.

“Ah, good evening, Mr. Malfoy.” Borgin did not smile. He set the box aside. “Are we selling today? I must say, I’d be very impressed if your family had managed to hold onto anything of interest in the wake of the ah… events of the summer.”

Draco stiffened. His upper lip curled, much like his might have were she here. “Actually, I’m interested in this Vanishing Cabinet.”

Borgin’s eyebrows lifted, ever so slightly. “A useful object in these troubling times. You know how it works then? You simply step inside, Disappear, and Reappear when you are ready.”

“I’m well aware of how most Vanishing Cabinets work. Are you aware that this cabinet has a twin?”

Borgin stroked his chin. “Twin cabinets are quite rare. If it does indeed have a twin, its price is double.”

“You misunderstand me. I’m not paying for this cabinet.”

Borgins eyes grew very cold. “Then, Mr. Malfoy, I’m afraid our business is concluded.”

“No, it isn’t. You see, this cabinet has a twin, but the twin doesn’t work. I’m going to fix it. You’re going to tell me how. See, a friend of mine got stuffed into the twin, and kept hearing conversations in this shop. I’d like to repair it, to restore the passage between the cabinets, allowing them to be used for travel. So tell me: would you know how to fix it?”

The shopowner’s lips twitched. He clearly did not like Draco’s business dealings as much as he’d enjoyed his father’s. “Possibly. I’ll need to see it, though. Why don’t you bring it into the shop?”

“I can’t. It’s got to stay put. I just need you to tell me how to do it.”

Borgin licked his lips. He seemed almost grateful to have a way out. “Well, without seeing it, I must say it will be a very difficult job, perhaps impossible. I couldn’t guarantee anything.”

Draco had expected resistance, and he felt a bit of thrill as he began to roll up his left sleeve. “No?” He stepped closer and revealed the blood red mark on his arm: an image of a human skull, with a snake winding around the jawbone, and extending from the teeth like a tongue. “Perhaps this will make you more confident.”

Borgin’s face paled. This — this was what Draco wanted. He wanted the power that came with serving the Dark Lord. He wanted the power to command, to control. He wanted people to listen to him, to follow his orders.

“Tell anyone,” Draco said, “and there will be retribution.” He added the only threat he could think of that might be worse than the Dark Lord himself. “You know Fenrir Greyback? He’s a family friend. He’ll be dropping in from time to time to make sure you’re giving the problem your full attention.”

“There will be no need for —”

“I’ll decide that.” Draco rolled down his sleeve and buttoned the cuff. “Well, I’d better be off. And don’t forget to keep that one safe.” He gestured to the cabinet. “I’ll need it.”

Borgin’s voice still shook. “Perhaps you’d like to take it now?”

“No, of course I wouldn’t, you stupid little man. How would I look carrying that down the street? Just don’t sell it.”

“Of course not, sir.” Borgin bowed, as deeply as he had when Lucius Malfoy had demanded secrecy on some of his sales, or asked things to be held for a time, until the Ministry reduced their raids.

“Not a word to anyone, Borgin, and that includes my mother. Understand?”

“Naturally, naturally,” and Borgin bowed once more.

Draco left in a hurry. He hoped his mother would be waiting for him at the Leaky Cauldron. He didn’t want to spend another minute in Diagon Alley. The thrill of intimidating Borgin faded not long after stepping out of the shop. The pounding in his ears was slowly turning into a pounding in his head. The success of step one was washed over by the pressure of what was still to come. He tried to have confidence in his Plan, but he knew there were many parts that could go wrong.

It did not take him long to reconnect with his mother. She was in the Leaky Cauldron, anxiety barely visible in the tight lines around her mouth. For a moment, Draco felt guilty. Not for making her worry about him — he could handle himself — but for leaving her alone in Diagon Alley. What if she had run into Sirius Black again, and he hadn’t been there to defend her?

But neither said a word as they left and Apparated home.

Draco went straight to his room, determined to avoid Aunt Bella. His mind was buzzing so loudly he knew he would not succeed in an Occlumency test right now. He distracted himself with his new school things, and flipped through his Charms textbook.

Right there, in the course introduction, tucked into the list of standard charms was the Protean Charm. Draco had heard that before…. Yes, that Mudblood Granger had used it to communicate with her stupid group of Dumbledore loyalists.

Draco slipped a galleon out of his pocket and flipped to the page detailing the Protean Charm. He had the beginnings of a Backup Plan, just in case the Plan went poorly. If the Vanishing Cabinet was not enough, if he needed help from outside Hogwarts, he could use a charmed galleon for communication, just as Potter had. Someday, he’d have to thank Potter, Weasley, and Granger for all their help.

[the-girl-who-used-to-write]

Which Alpha?

Ship- Scott McCall x Reader, Theo Raeken x Reader

“Theo, are you sure Scott will be ok with this?” I asked. I was laying on Theo’s chest in his bed, sheets covering our bare bodies. We’d had this quote unquote relationship for a little over two months, except the only problem was that my alpha, a certain Scott McCall, was apparently attracted to me. these weren’t my words, I got them from Lydia who I believe in most things. Theo wasn’t my alpha, in fact he was basically the enemy of my alpha so this was really bad.

“Who cares?” he said. “He’s only your alpha. If you really worry too much, leave.” he said nonchalantly. He always did this, tried to force me to leave with him so we could live the ‘perfect life’. Sure, I learned to love Theo through late nights talking in the library to morning study sessions before class, but running away wasn’t as easy at Theo makes it sound. 

“It’s not that easy Theo. He’s my alpha.” I said. It hurt, knowing I couldn’t spend all my time with Theo but there was something that always stopped me from being completely satisfied after spending moments with him. And that was Scott. Theo was a bad boy, who didn't have many cares in the world so there was a nice freedom coming from a relationship with him. Scott however was caring, loving, someone who could protect you but not be a burden on your life. It was hard to pick between two very different boys. 

“I should probably get back before Scott gets suspicious.” I said, lifting myself from the bed and grabbing one of Theo’s shirts to slip on so I could make my way to the bathroom without the risk of someone walking in and seeing me in my birthday suit. I could hear Theo huff from behind me and from the mirror I could see him sit up, letting the white sheets fall from his chest to his waist, exposing his abs. Looking away so I could break the gaze, I kept my head down as I made my way quickly to the bathroom. However, before I could actually reach the door Theo was behind me, holding my back to his chest. 

“You can’t be serious. Scott is controlling you, can’t you see that. He says he wants you to be safe but he just wants to keep you from the world. I can give you the better life, I’m the better alpha. You’ve just gotta trust me.” he pleaded. It was a constant battle between sticking to my guns and being convinced. My memories with Scott and Theo were so so different so when I was on the edge of fully believing Theo and nearly going along with his plans, I was constantly brought back to the long study sessions and movie nights that I spent with Scott; throwing popcorn and falling asleep slumped over our desks with half empty coffee cups still clutched in our hands. At the time I was reminiscing, my phone rang from the pocket of my jeans and as I fished it out I saw Scott’s name flashing up on the screen. I answered it and Theo backed away.

“Hey (Y/N) I was wondering where you were. I really need to talk to you. It’s important.” Scott said. I could hear a non-believing scoff from Theo behind me and I opted to ignore it. “Do you think you can come over.”. The question hung in the air, and I had my gaze held on an expectant looking Theo, but I made my decision.

[chasingthepoguelife]

Fratboy!Thiam Chapter 3

Liam sweated so much within that 5 minute walk from his dorm to the front of the frat house he's sure all that cologne Allison sprayed on him already wore off. As Liam heard the loud music and flashing colored lights he began to panic. "Ma- ma- ha-ha," Liam started panting, grabbing Allison's attention. "Baby boy you need to calm down!" "What did I say Ally! No calling me a baby or a baby boy!" Liam demanded. "Ok well show me you're not a baby and put on your big boy boxers and have some fun!" "Can we at least have like a safe word if something icky or scary happens," Liam pleaded. "Bottom!" Allison suggested with a smirk. "Why bottom Ally?" Liam asked. "It describes you silly!" Allison said with a very confused Liam staring at her. "Ok," Liam shrugged, bottom it is. Allison grabbed Liam's hand and the two walked into the house of the very wild frat party. Liam had never seen anything like this before. Not even in movies because his mama monitored everything he watched. Liam saw all types of different people, mostly all were drinking alcohol and kissing and touching each other. Liam stared at the highly sexually active college kids and remembered that the only things he's ever touched and kissed were himself and his pillows. He was pulled away from his thoughts when he felt Allison's hand move away from his. "I'm hoping this is your little brother or something because I'd really to spend some time with you," the boy said to Allison. "This is Liam, basically my brother so I'm all free. I'm Allison." "Scott," the boy said. "Is it ok if I steal her from you?" Liam really wanted to say no but he didn't want Allison to be unhappy. He does so much for him , she deserves to have fun on her own. "Yeah of course, have Ally. Meet at the door later though?" "Of course cutie!" Liam watched until Allison and Scott were no longer in sight. Now all he could see was all the partying and stuff he's not used to, stuff that made him feel uncomfortable. He headed for the kitchen, hoping to find some juice. *in another room of the house* "Come on man," Derek said to Theo with his arm around a girl. "It's only the first party of the year. There's plenty of time to get in a few fucks, or even dates if you get all sappy." After Derek wandered off, Theo was alone, now that all his buddies had wandered off. I guess it's true that when you get your hopes up they usually get crushed. "Come on juice!" Theo managed to hear through all that music. He turned his head to the source of the noise, a struggling short kid trying to push what he thought was a soft drink but in fact colored vodka on top of the China cabinet. He gave up after a few seconds and he turned his head facing Theo's direction but not looking directly at him and Theo couldn't keep his eyes off the boy. The boy kept looking around nervously and looked so out of place. He had to be the cutest boy Theo has ever seen. Adorable short, ocean blue eyes, hair that looked so soft feet away, and too god damn cute when he couldn't get any juice. The red shirt he wear made his plump and tinted lips stand out even more. Derek was so wrong. There wouldn't need to be any more parties because the cute boy that wanted juice would soon be Theo's. It had been three hours and Liam still had no juice and no one really talked to him. He was confused and a bit hurt after Allison said his cuteness would attract a lot of attention. Liam had seen some decently attractive boys at the party, but most of them were kissing somebody else and he didn't get the butterfly feeling that Allison explained to him. He was starting to get tired and pull out his cell phone. To Allison: Hi Ally, I'm getting sleepy so I'm going back to my dorm. I hope you're having fun but let me know you're ok since Scott is a stranger. I'll leave a note for the front desk lady to let you up so you can have a room to sleep in. It was only a 5 minute walk but with no juice in sight, Liam drank so much water to look like he was busy doing something, so he needed to find a bathroom. Every door looked the same and he was too scared to open them. He headed up stairs thinking with less people he'd find one. Liam's bathroom search started off bumpy as he opened too many doors revealing too many naked potential classmates. There was one more door he decided to try before he came to the point of peeing his pants. He opened the door to another bedroom, but thankfully no one was naked, at least not all the way. His eyes landed on the bare back of a boy not facing Liam. He had never seen so many defined muscles on one person. The boy started to talk and turn around. "Listen if you're looking for a place to fuck this isn't the room!" Liam blushed at the boy's use of the word fuck. "Oh no gosh no I was just looking for the bathroom," Liam said nervously. When Liam looked up from his feet, Theo has realized it was the cute boy that had been looking for juice. "No it's ok stay here!" Theo said too eagerly. "I have my own bathroom. You can use it free of charge," which was Theo's Lane attempt of flirting. Theo stepped a bit closer to Liam which allowed the light to focus more on him. Liam had just became more nervous than the day his mama found him finishing off two boxes of pizza all by himself. This boy was so beautiful. Liam's heart was pounding out of his chest, making him forget all about having to use the bathroom. "Which door is it?" Liam asked. "I've been looking for one all night but almost every door had naked people behind it." What would Liam look like naked popped into Theo's head. "It's the one with the green door knob. Take your time short stuff." Liam headed to the bathroom without a protests to Theo calling him short stuff. "Uh before I use your bathroom, my name is Liam!" "It's suits you short stuff, I'm Theo." "I won't be too long, thanks Theo." Liam was a happy camper, skipping his way the bathroom. Liam really liked the bathroom. The smell, he assumed was Theo's cologne ,made the hairs on his arms stick up, and that familiar blush in his cheeks crept up again as he laid eyes on Theo's boxers spread on the tile floor. Theo heard the door opening, prepared to ask Liam to stay a bit when Liam tripped over Theo's books on the floor, just a few feet out of the bathroom, catching himself on Theo's desk like a downward dog yoga position. Before Liam could even struggle to get himself up after his fall, Theo was caught in the thought of having Liam bent over like that on his. "Uh Theo, could you help me up?" Theo lunged over to grab Liam up by his arms when he realized he was practically on top of Liam. "Theo, could I get up now please?" "Yeah I'm so sorry. Let me pull you up." Liam was really nervous being with a stranger. There was an awkward silence for a bit. Both boys were ok with that as they didn't want the other to leave. "So Liam-" Theo started as a loud horn was heard from the hallways. "What-what is all that noise Theo asked?" Liam asked. "Look I know we just met but trust me, stay in my room. I can tell you're a freshmen and you're safer in here with me. Every year at the first party there's an hour where my brothers round up the freshman and mess with them." "Theo you're a fraternity member?" "The president actually." Liam didn't know what to say. He was alone with the fraternity president in his room. He wish Allison was answering her phone so he could tell her about Theo. "Oh wow that's really great. But are you sure it's ok?" "Of course Liam. I'm not that big on torturing the freshman but it's a hundred year old tradition so I can't really stop it. We can wait out. Come sit with me, tell me all about yourself." "Well my name is Liam Dunbar. I'm from Beacon Hills, California. My best friend is Allison Argent. She goes to the college not too far from here. I really like candy and juice. I've never been away from home or my mama or Allison even though she's not that far. I kind of get lost and nervous in situations like this and normally I'd be in bed by now but it's all new and crazy, " Liam said without taking a breath, and just when Theo thought Liam couldn't get any cuter. "Well you know me as Theo, Theo Raeken. I'm from a small town a few hours from here. My best friends are Scott and Derek, we went to high school together and we've been frat brothers since our first year. I too also love chocolate and juice," Theo shared. "I love how you call your mom mama like I still do." Theo could've sworn he heard Liam giggling like a baby doll and Liam could've sworn his heart would pound out of him chest being here with Liam. "I'm going to get a blanket for you and maybe some juice if I can find some, if that's ok. I saw you shake a bit when the air came on." "Yes, thank you Theo." Theo spent 10 minutes finding the perfect blanket for Liam, but no luck with the juice. He hurried back to his room, excited to be with Liam again, only to find Liam already passed out in a ball on his bed. "We'll talk tomorrow little juice boy," Theo said throwing the blanket over Liam.

[all-about-drarry]

Thank you @inloveatthewrongtimee ♥

Your prompt really inspired me, so I wrote a little one shot for you :) 

I hope you’ll enjoy it. ♥

Harry Potter watched with eagle-eyes how his best friend dropped into the chair next to Theodore Nott. Harry had settled as usual on their regular seats in the potion lab and had already unpacked the things when Draco and Theo entered the room. It was kind of like always. However, Draco didn’t settle next to him but sat down at Theo’s desk. This wasn’t as usual. Not at all.

“Trouble in paradise?” A trusted voice made Harry look up, after a moment of hesitation, he shrugged helplessly.

“If I only knew that.”

Blaise, who usually sat next to Theo, had settled down next to him. With an encouraging smile he laid his hand on Harry’s arm.

“Dray is all drama, he’ll calm himself.” Blaise gave Harry one of those you-know-exactly-how-he-is-looks and his smile turned into a cheeky grin. “As always”, he added.

Harry nodded and felt much better. Even though Blaise and he weren’t best friends, the two Slytherins were quite close.

“Then you’ll just take me through potions”, Harry replied with a grin, making the other laugh.

Since Harry had met Draco at Madame Malkins, the blonde had been absolutely thrilled by him. On platform 9 ¾, the blonde had caught Harry pretty quickly and dragged him to his friends. That was the story how Harry had met Blaise and Pansy. Draco, Blaise and Pansy had been friends since they were little. They liked Harry really quickly, as they did with Daphne Greengrass.

Pansy and Daphne were best friends since the time Pansy had sat down beside the blonde little girl at the Slytherin table. That’s they were. The squad. Draco and Harry, who were inseparable, and Pansy and Daphne, who were also rarely separated, and Blaise, who got along very well with everyone.

Harry also got along very well with Theo. The brunette Slytherin just didn’t like the squad life and prefered to spend his time alone or in pairs. Vince and Greg always did their own thing, just like Millicent and Tracey.

To Harry’s disgust, he had to realize that the “incident” in potions wasn't a one time thing. Draco spent more and more time with the brunette Slytherin. He came to the dorm which he shared with Blaise and Harry late at night, sat at the meal mostly opposite Theo and a few places further away at the table.

The two of them learned together, sat together in the classroom and spent their spare time together, they just did almost everything together. Except for Quidditch, but Harry was sure if Theo had been a part of the team, then they would hang around in training as well. It drove Harry mad. His best friend ignored him and Harry had no idea why.

He had asked Blaise for advice and his best friend Daphne, he had even begged Pansy to tell him what she knew, but the black-haired Slytherin, also known as Dracos best friend, had only shaken her head.

“Harry, he didn’t say anything, I don’t know what’s going on with him”, she sighed, looking sadly at her friend. Harry was stumped.

It was already dawning when Harry went to the quidditch field. He didn’t care that he was late for training. Just how Draco acted lately, he wouldn’t even notice it. Harry had quickly peeled off his clothes and pulled over the quidditch uniform before he went to the field.

When Harry entered the training, he greeted the team briefly. They were doing different tactics, so it wasn’t even that bad that Harry had come too late. As the seeker the strategy and moves hardly touched him.

The training went on as usual. With the one difference that Draco almost didn’t talk to him. Otherwise, he and Harry had often looked at the players and discussed how they could use each team member most effectively. Draco had mostly flown beside him, but since the iron silence he hovered down among the others, he was hardly paying attention to the black-haired boy.

After the workout, Harry had time to take a shower. As he entered the dressing room, Draco was pulling on a dark green sweater. Harry turned away and opened his own locker when suddenly a “Hey” came from his right. He glanced at his best friend. Draco leaned his shoulder against one of the lockers right next to Harry’s.

“Hey yourself”, he murmured, slipping into blue washed-out jeans and a black hoodie. He caught Draco’s eyes and sighed.

“So you’re talking to me again?” It just slipped out. Crap. He didn’t want to bitch around.

Draco raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“It’s new for me that I haven’t talked to you.”

“Well, you didn’t have time to talk to me since you only depend on Nott.” Harry snarled. Dracos couldn’t be serious?!

“I also didn’t know you had a problem with Theo, but good to know, Harry.” Draco pushed away from the locker and headed toward the exit.

“You’d know if you had talked to your best friend in the past two weeks” Harry chided after him.

“I do not need your permission with whom I spend my time and with whom not, Potter”, Draco hissed angrily.

At the sound of his last name, Harry shrank. Everything inside him tensed and with a wistful look at Draco, he called after him a sad “Dray”, but Draco didn’t react. Instead he disappeared from the changing rooms.

Great. The first time they had talked during the last two weeks and they argued immediately. Fabulous.

The next day, Harry saw his friend only in classes and at meals. Literally. Harry had tried to intercept Draco in the morning or the evening to apologize and clarify the matter but Draco had disappeared early in the morning when Harry wasn’t even awake. And in the evening he came so late to the dungeons that Harry was already in the land of dreams. It was like the blonde Slytherin wouldn’t even sleep with them in the dormitory.

On Friday evening, two days after the dispute in the changing rooms, it was too much for Harry. When he entered the empty dormitory after dinner, he rolled up on his bed and cried. Yes, he was crying because of Draco fucking Malfoy, his best friend, who was no longer his best friend for various reasons.

When Blaise entered the dormitory a little later and found the sobbing Harry, he didn’t hesitate for long. His steps led him back into the common room, which he had left only minutes before. He reached for Daphne’s wrist with a sharp “fellow-fellow” and drew the shocked girl into the boys tract.

He pushed her through the door into the dormitory, and when Daphne saw her best friend in this pity position, she cuddled into the bed and pulled the black-haired man into her arms. With a look at Blaise, who nodded and then left the room, she slammed the blanket over her body and stroked Harry soothingly through his hair.

While Daphne was cajoling the black-haired with honeyed words, Blaise was looking for the cause of the evil. He finally found Draco in the library with - oh what a miracle - Theo. Blaise rushed to the table where his two classmates studied.

“Malfoy”, he growled as he reached the table and put his hands on the plate.

“Since when are we on last-name-basis?”, Draco asked skeptically.

“Since one of our friends is crying because of you and actually I thought that you two were best friends and you should be interested", Blaise hissed at the blonde.

Contrary to expectations, Draco did not react first but Theo.

“What? Harry’s crying?”

Blaise nodded with a brief glance at the brunette.

“If you .. oh no, because you two did not notice it”, Blaise began, then turned back to Draco, “Harry is pretty shitty because you ignore him.”

The two Slytherins gave themselves a grown look duel, which Theo only doubtingly watched.

“I don’t know why I’d have to ask anyone with whom I'm allowed to spend my time”, Draco hissed, turning back to his book.

“Maybe it’s not about who you spend time with, but who you’re ignoring after seven years of friendship. Harry just doesn’t know why you hate him all at once. “

With a desperate look at Draco, the black-haired boy shook his head and turned away without another word. In his back, he still heard Theo talking softly to Draco, but he was too far away to understand the words.

Daphne slept next to Harry this night. When the next morning refused to go to breakfast, his best friend simply stayed with him in bed. Blaise brought the two sandwiches, which only touched the blonde. When Harry was still unable to get up at midday, Daphne and Pansy tried to get their friend together.

“Lion, you have to get up,” Daphne murmured as she pulled a strand of hair from his forehead. In a flowing motion, she wiped another tear from his cheek. Not even his beloved pet name could change his mood.

Daphne called him Lion since he told her in the fourth year that the Talking Hat was going to send him to Gryffindor. But Harry had resisted it, because of Draco. That Draco, whom didn't care for several weeks.

“Harry, come with us for lunch,” Pansy pleaded with the black-haired boy, and sighed deeply, “it will be all right. Believe me, I’ll kick him in the ass, but you’ll have to eat something.”

Harry just shook his head and after a few more attempts, the girls said their goodbyes to go to the Great Hall. In the afternoon Harry had slept much, which made the girls spend time outdoors. Towards evening, Daph sat back on Harry’s bed, her back against the wall behind her, while the feet dangled forward.

Harry had put his head sideways on her thighs, and looked at Pansy, kneeling before him on the floor, her hands clasped on the mattress and her head resting on it. She had been talking about her holiday from the summer for almost an hour, and avoided talking as much as possible about subjects that contained Draco, which wasn’t really that easy.

After all, Harry and Draco had almost never been separate since their first day at Hogwarts. Pansy looked desperately at Daphne, who recognized the dumb plea. Never leave me. In reply, she gave the black-haired girl only a loving smile.

The door swung open behind Pansy, which made the two girls look up, thinking that Blaise was coming in. But to all wonder it wasn’t Blaise but Draco, who leaned with the shoulder in the door frame. When Harry saw him, he closed his eyes desperately for a moment, before he straightened.

“Girls, just leave us alone, please”, Draco said. Although his voice was completely calm, the air was electrified as the two girls stood up. Pansy was the first at the door. Furiously, she pressed her index finger against his chest.

“I hope for you, you had damn good reasons and you’ll clarify the matter with Harry, otherwise I’ll kick your ass, Malfoy”, Pansy hissed at him before she pushed out into the corridor. And Draco was perfectly clear she was serious. Like very serious. One head smaller or not. That didn't matter for Pansy. Daphne kissed Harry briefly on the cheek before she also drove past Draco without a word. He entered the room completely, closed the door and leaned against one of his bedposts. Harry, who had meanwhile sat up, slipped to the wall.

For a little while nobody said anything. They only looked into each other’s eyes and a tear blurred from Harry’s cheek.

“Why do you hate me?” The black-haired boy whispered after some time because the silence was worse than not knowing.

Draco said nothing for a moment before a sigh escaped.

“I don’t hate you”, he replied, suddenly sounding tired. Draco sat down on his bed, slid back against the wall and closed his eyes briefly. Again, both were silent for some time.

“Dray, talk to me, please”, Harry pleaded, just couldn’t stand it anymore.

Draco sighed before he began to talk.

“Theo and I understand each other very well because we like the same things.”

Harry frowned but Draco just continued.

“He found out I was … that I’m gay and well, he is too, and I never wanted our friendship to suffer, Harry, but it was so easy to be with Theo all this time.”

Harry swallowed and let the words sink. For some reason, his stomach had contracted painfully at the thought of Draco and Theo.

“So you’re happy with him … and you couldn’t tell me. Do you really think I would be … yes, whatever … just because you’ve got a boyfriend now?”

Draco opened his eyes widely and shook his head vehemently.

“No, stop, Theo and I aren’t together. I mean, well, we kissed one time, but I’ve got feelings for someone and Theo just became a good listener and friend to me. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. I was just afraid you could find me repulsive”, Draco finally became quieter. That was too much for Harry.

“Holy shit, you’re crazy! We’ve survived everything together, we’ve survived Voldemort, we’ve been going through thick and thin since we’re 11 years old. Dray, we … I … I thought you’d know me better.“, he shouted at the other, “and then you think I’m going to freak out because you’re gay?! Do you have that less faith in me?”

The blonde swallowed visibly and stood up, slowly walking toward Harry.

“I wasn’t afraid you’d abandon me for being gay, I was afraid you’d abandon me for this.” Draco had just wispered the last words before he put his lips on Harry’s.

Harry’s body felt like it was going to explode but before he could return the kiss, Draco had already disengaged from him and stepped back. Absent-minded Harry touched his lips with his fingertips.

“I know .. I’m not …” gay, he wanted to say, but for some reason he didn’t say a word. Absolutely overwhelmed, he looked into Draco’s eyes.

“Gay”, Draco finished Harry’s sentence instead, closing his lids. “I know.”

“Yes, no … but … I don’t know”, Harry murmured.

He had never been interested in boys, but he wasn’t really interested in girls either. Suddenly he knew what to do. Harry put a hand on Draco’s neck and pulled him closer.

“I have no idea, but if you want, we’ll find out together”, he whispered against Draco’s lips before pulling him closer and pressing his own lips on Draco’s.

Send me a prompt with a line and a HP pairing and I’ll try to write you a drabble. Maybe not just Drarry :p

[cvptaingiordano]

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SEND ME A SYMBOL FOR… ( meme - accepting )

☁  FIVE TIMES MY MUSE HAS THOUGHT ABOUT YOURS, AND THE ONE TIME THEY DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. @omenwept

i. he’s sitting in class, gaze stuck on the small window as he watched the cars drive past the street, his attention nowhere near the explanation the professor seemed to be giving to him and the other kids sitting on the chairs between the walls of the small space. thoughts wander back to theo’s words, an invitation to a party that was being thrown at one of the students’s place. he knew for a fact that he wanted to go there with someone, and he didn’t even have to think over a couple of seconds to know w h o he’d wanted to go there with him. rosalie. they’d known each other for a while, hung out several times and perhaps even grown quite close. it was nice to be around her, nice to know that there were people out there willing to stick around him even if that stilinski boy was there - walking through the same corridors as him  (  even if mason shouldn’t  ) - ––––––– a doppelgänger something he would have never imagined he’d face. the whole situation seemed to cloud his mind several times a day, and as much as he tried to push all of those thoughts away he couldn’t. it was messed up, yes, yet rosalie still was there, sticking by his side through all the stress and insane stuff that seemed to be going on in his life. he’d told her about it all - how his parents had been murdered, why he was there in beacon hills - he’d told her all of that and she still stuck around him. that’s why she was the first one he thought about. she cared and he’d grown quite fond of her in a short amount of time. mason already saw her as his best friend, the one he trusted the most, the one he’d always call first if there was something going through his mind or he simply wanted to chat. that’s who she’d grown to be in his life in such a short amount of time. that’s why he wanted to take her with him, to that party - to perhaps get a little wasted and just forget about all the dumb shit going on in their lives - yet the boy didn’t. the hunter knew it wasn’t her scene.

ii. boredom is something he felt a few hours later (  or more like almost always  ). he wasn’t sure how much time he’d spent on the sketch in his hands, wrist moving in slow circular motions as he made quick strokes, the ink leaving its trail across the small book. it’s relaxing in a way and it helped to forget about everything that seemed to be capable of driving him mad. which he felt he was going. why he felt so insecure about everything he did in this town as of late he wasn’t sure. it was almost as if everything he did, wasn’t even good enough anymore. every lead he got lead him nowhere, he wasn’t sure where vampires tried hiding at this point. he’d looked everywhere there - but something told him he had to keep looking. black inked pen continued to leave it’s mark across the sketch, lines curving to form the shape of a face, robotic features added into the mix as he added a taint of roughness to the piece. he wasn’t sure what to do. it’s in moments like those in which he wished to be able to do something about it all, to not be stuck like he’d been the past few days. he pauses for a split second, teeth biting into his bottom lip as he found himself thinking about whether he should tell her or not. it’s funny how he kept on telling himself that distractions would last forever, but they didn’t even last a few minutes. mason knew rosalie would understand, hell he knew that a simple chat about it would help him relax and be reassured that he wasn’t going nuts like he felt he was, yet still he wouldn’t tell her. he trusted her, but the last thing he would want was to cause her any more trouble, to worry her. he knew he already was a butt at lunch earlier today, insisting for them to quickly hurry and get some take away. he’d claimed it would be better than anything else - yet the restaurant he’d talked about had turned out to be closed. shaking his head a small laugh managed to part the boy’s lips as he tried to focus his attention back on the sketch, a sketch which was slowly turning out to look more like her than he would’ve imagined, yet he didn’t think too much of it. maybe one day he’d show her.

iii. he’s standing in a crowded room alone, his back resting against the wall as he stared down at his phone. he hadn’t stopped thinking about calling her to hang out - h o w funny considering he was supposed to be having fun at the place he was at. it was a party, the one place where he was supposed to be interacting socially with others, but instead he was there doing nothing at all (  asides from having eaten the entire bowl of doritos all by himself  ) staring down at his phone as he read through their earlier conversation. he hadn’t even mentioned that he would be out tonight (  how odd  ) nor had he asked her if she would like to join him. in a way he pushes it away simply, but the fact that he kept on reading back through the conversation clearly proved how he wanted to just call her and hang out. he realized he’d much rather be with her watching some boring ass movie than drinking cheap beer and getting smashed with others he didn’t exactly give a damn about. it almost seemed like he was torturing himself, doing things he wasn’t even enjoying on purpose. truth was he would love for them doing it all together - something different - something where they’d be able to let loose and actually behave like normal teens (  do the stupidest of things together  ) it all sounded too appealing yet he never mentioned it - he would never say anything about it. she would think he was losing his mind. quickly mason made himself out of the small place, heading home to do something that would at least allow him to not be miserable once again. - that meant spending the whole night playing some stupid game that would lead him nowhere - it’s once again another distraction.

iv. four a.m and he’s still awake. this time he’s shut down his computer after raging at some kid (  h o w pathetic ) - deciding that it was best for him to just quit for the day. he let the weight of his body fall down against the mattress, his cat jumping on the bed as soon as he did so only for a small sigh to part the boys lips, hand reaching out to touch the furry animal as a gentle grin made its way onto his features. it was easy to be a cat, living with no worries asides from eating, drinking and finding a way to get someone’s attention. it seemed so simple. digits brush across the cat as he remember telling rosalie just that several days ago. only difference was that at that specific moment the boy had been complaining about the fact that she was always off to class, while he was either hanging around the park sketching, at home playing the same game for hours or trying a way to figure out who murdered his parent like they did. the simple thought of the dumb question he’d asked her, his mind going back in time as he wondered whether or not she’d asked herself about his sanity in that moment, he wouldn’t be surprised. it made him want to call her in that moment (  he simply liked it more than sending her a simple text  ) but he didn’t want to. the fact that he could wake her up was something he didn’t want to risk. he himself already knew how much it sucked to have their beauty sleep ruined and more so on a friday (  his cat had done this to him on several occasions - how f u n  ). maybe he’d tell her t o m o r r o w.

v. digits are hitting the key’s of his laptop, quickly typing away another entry where he explained all the little details which seemed to lead him somewhere. for once he felt accomplished. perhaps this time he would find out the truth behind the reason of that monster’s actions (  if he ever got to them  ) - he would finally be at peace as he gave them what they deserve. he show rosalie the bits of information that he’d found. something that lead him out of beacon hills and that’s where he stopped typing away the message he was about to send, deleting the whole thing. he’s overthinking the whole thing, he knew so. as relieved as he was to finally have a lead to the unanswered questioned he’s had these past three years he knew if he did let her know of this that anything could go wrong. not that she would mislead him he knew she would never, but it was something entirely different. he didn’t want to get her involved. with a few clicks he saved the document, closing his laptop as he exhaled softly, the tips of his fingers tapping against the wooden desk quickly. he wanted to tell her, he wanted her to know everything but he didn’t want her to get hurt. if he were to piss anyone off on this journey of his they would possibly try and get back at him in the worst of possible ways. hurting the people he cares about, those including her. it’s a classic, a technique even his parents had used in the past to fight off werewolves, but of course he wouldn’t put her life at risk. he wouldn’t let anyone know that she was even a part of his life. if it meant keeping her safe and making sure that no one would end up hurt, he would do so. she’s important to him, really important. it hadn’t taken her too long to become a pillar in his life, one holding everything together, and that’s why he shut his phone off in that moment, making sure that he wouldn’t say anything he’d regret later. it was better for her to be safe, better if he didn’t tell her anything that might make others aware that in a way he was vulnerable, that he wasn’t invincible, that instead there was something that made him care more about someone else than himself. for once he wasn’t selfish, for once he actually care more than he would have wanted to.

vi. another day goes by without talking to her at all. this time he wasn’t sure what brought these thoughts into him, making him - turning him into someone odd (  someone entirely different  ) someone he didn’t want to be. if there was a way for him to stop himself from bringing these thoughts into his head then he’d do so. digits are playing with the phone on his hands, his gaze stuck on the screen of his android as he pondered whether to call her or not, whether to ask her come to the woods, to their spot at the small lake. it’s where he’d hung out the past few hours, as if waiting for her to show up. he knew he had some explaining to do, as of why he’d been avoiding her these past four days. in a way it had been unintentional yet in another way all he’d truly wanted to do was to simply not bother the brunette. how s a d for all of it to be such a mess. gaze flickered across the screen, wondering what he should do. he knew what he wanted - he missed her after all. he wished to be able to talk to her once more and so with a quick shake of his head thumbs began typing away. a quick ‘hello c:’ something that in his world would be understood as an i miss you. it’s tragic for him to suddenly have become so vulnerable, so insecure, yet in a way it didn’t bother him much. it was almost as if things had shifted on his side, his only worry asides from finding out the truth suddenly becoming whether she’d be mad at him or not, whether she’d even answer back, yet he didn’t even give her the chance to type away nor even to come online as he was sending her a voice message this time. ❝ hey - rosalie yeah it’s me !! i uh- sorry for going missing these past few days. i know it was stupid - and i’m sorry but i uh- can you - can w e hang out ?? like right now ?? i’m at… you know where i am yeah ?? the little place we found a few weeks ago - ––––––– so if you want we can - y’know… i’ve got food with me too so if that makes the whole experience better. i won’t open the other bag of doritos i have with me. ❞ he’s rambled, his voice lingering at the end as if he were to say something more, which he felt like he wanted to, like he almost needed to but he sent the audio to her regardless. he wasn’t sure what it was that seemed to have made him so speechless for a split moment. he assumed it was the adrenaline pumping in his veins now that he’d gathered the courage to do this. to finally talk to her again it was - refreshing. still he wasn’t aware of the real difference behind that moment, the real reason why he’d suddenly stumbled over his own words, his self confidence vanishing as he sat there completely vulnerable for a moment. minutes pass as he stares down at his phone, almost waiting for something to happen, but nothing did (  asides for the two ticks turning blue as well as the audio’s color changing  ) the boy only found himself feeling more anxious this time yet he decided to wait - perhaps she’d come, perhaps she’d show up like he hoped she would. as stupid as he’d been the boy meant what he said. he’d missed her, with all his heart. after a while he felt a figure sitting down next to him, the corners of his lips twitching as he turned to see who it was. it’s a sudden happiness washing over him, his hand moving to rest on her knee only for his digits to give it a small squeeze as he watched her, offering her a smile as a breathy laugh dared to roll off his tongue. ❝ i missed you. ❞ he admitted, gaze finally meeting her own as he sat there with her - but then he reached down into his backpack, a bag of doritos being quickly opened before handing them over to her, a wide grin spread across his features. ❝ like i’m serious, i really did. see ?? these would’ve already been gone by now but they’re not. ❞ there’s that teasing tone of voice this time, but he was sure she could see the deep meaning behind his words (  he wasn’t one to share his food, even if she’d always been the exception  ) - this time things would be different or so he would try to make them be. it’s been enough time wasted - an entire week - he wouldn’t do anything like it again. ❝ we should watch a movie later and order some pizza or something ?? you can chose the sauce and basically everything if you want. ❞ he said before adding. ❝ but just saying - my cat’s probs gonna go nuts if she sees you though. i can already tell you that. ❞