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wiypt-writes · 4 years

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Riding High

Ch14: True Perfection Has To Be Imperfect

Chapter Summary: Frank gets the keys to the new apartment and the renovations start. Everything seems to be going so well for them all, until Fliss gets some news that rocks the very foundations they’ve been building.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: As always, if you like and enjoy please comment and Re-Blog. I’d love to hear your thoughts and questions!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 13

It’s your time, it’s your day, it’s never too late, to change lanes.

Frank could tell something was off the minute he pulled onto the yard. The usual chatter that rang out was absent and there just seemed a general air about the place that he couldn't identify. But it wasn't long before he found out why.

"Fliss is on the floor!" Mary’s voice loud with worry as she pointed into the paddock. Frank glanced over as he shut the door to his truck and felt himself grow cold. He broke into a jog, heading towards the fence and let out a sigh of relief when he saw she was moving.

“Wait here…” he instructed Mary before, with a flourish, he vaulted over the side of the paddock and jogged across the riding paddock.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Oh, hey Sailor!” Fliss grinned up at him, where she lay flat on her back, Thor led by her side, head on her thigh. “Just had a fall but everything’s working, just giving myself a minute to get my breath and what not.” “Nothing broken.” Joanne looked at Frank from where she knelt by Fliss, the reins to the big, black horse in her hands

Frank knelt down next to Fliss and looked at her as she reached out and gently ran her hand down his forearm. “How d’ya fall off?” “Oh Bronson got confused at the jump, was trying to dodge out to the right. I corrected him and he kind of took off, twisted mid-air and I got unseated.” she explained.

“It was a pretty good show of acrobatics.” Joanne nodded in agreement.

Thor gave a little whine and his head moved, his eyes looking up at Fliss who scratched his ear.

“I’m ok, mate.” she said softly. “I’m good.”

"This wouldn't happen on a boat ya know" Frank teased gently and she looked up at him, quirking an eyebrow as she propped herself up on her elbows.

"Boats are boring...nothing like having a half tonne animal between your legs" she replied, causing him and Joanne to smirk.

“You’re terrible.” Joanne shook her head as Fliss simply grinned.

“Okay, I’m good to go." Fliss sat up fully. Frank got up off his knees and held out his hand, gently pulling her to her feet. She dusted herself off and then turned to take Bronson's reins off Joanne.

"Can you give me a leg up?" She asked and Frank felt his heart stop

"You cannot be serious!" He spluttered back.

"What?"

“You’re getting back on?”

“Yeah.” Fliss looked at Frank as if he was stupid “I’m not hurt, not really, just gonna ache like hell for a few days. It’s the same as riding a bike, you don’t stop if you fall off!” “It’s a little different to riding-“

“Besides,” she spoke over him, “he’ll be unsettled and if I don’t get on and end the session well it’s gonna be in his mind, and mine for that matter, for next time and it’ll just be a nightmare so…”

Frank knew there was no point in arguing with her. Instead he held his hands up and backed away as Joanne boosted her up.

“What happened?” Mary asked as he reached the paddock fence she was now perched sideways on, her legs hanging either side.

“She fell off.” Frank answered simply. “She’s okay though. She’s back on.” They watched as Fliss gently walked the horse round before picking up trot, then canter and then turned him straight for the jump. Frank grimaced slightly but he needn’t have bothered, the horse cleared the fence and Fliss gently slowed him down, patting him.

“Fucking crazy.” Frank mumbled to himself, shaking his head.

Whilst Fliss wasn’t seriously injured, she was certainly feeling the effects later on that night. Frank had called Verity, despite Fliss’ protests that she was fine, who had dropped round to Frank’s with some painkillers that were slightly stronger than your average ones. Fliss had taken two before dinner and as a result had started feeling a little bit woozy and light headed, commenting to Frank that it felt like she’d been smoking something funny. After diverting Mary’s questions on what that meant, they’d watched a bit of TV until Fliss announced she was thirsty.

“I’ll get it.” Frank made to move but she stopped him.

“I’m fine.” she sat up with a grimace, grabbing at her notoriously bad shoulder.

“Baby, just-“ “Frank, stop it!” she said a little sternly. “I’ve fallen off more horses than you’ve had women.” “Wow.” he looked at her, and she snorted.

“I just mean it ain’t the first time and it sure as hell won’t be the last, kinda comes with the territory. I’m just gonna a bit bruised.”

“Fine” he relented, and she pushed herself up off the sofa and walked slowly into the kitchen.

A moment later he heard her groan “Fraaaaaaank.” “What?”

“The soda’s on the top shelf. I can’t stretch my arm.” “What’s that? You do need my help?” “Stop being a dick.” she shot back, and with a wink at Mary who was laughing, he stood up and headed into the kitchen.

Not long after that they all ended up heading to bed. Frank knew that tomorrow was going to be a long day as he was getting the keys to the new apartment in the morning and they were starting the work straight away, Bill already scheduled to come and help. He’d booked as much time as he dared off work over the next week, given that he hadn’t been working there all that long but thankfully his Team Leader had been very understanding and Bill had said he’d take over on the days Frank had to be in.

Fliss stretched out, hissing at the bite of pain that coursed through her side and shoulder, the noise she made caused Thor to immediately spring up on the bed, nuzzling his face into Fliss' causing her to wince a little as he basically led over her like a huge teddy bear.

"Careful, buddy." Frank gently chastised the dog, reaching over to scratch his ears. He knew the animal was incredibly tuned into Fliss’ feelings, as were Cap and Heidi, the two horses she owned. It was something that genuinely amazed him and, if he was honest, made him smile a lot.

"Stupid soft git." Fliss muttered fondly, as Thor lay his head on her chest, teetering on the edge of the mattress, precariously, until a few seconds later he rolled and toppled off causing them both to giggle. The German shepherd shook himself off, shot them a scathing look, before he headed to his bed and flopped down with a loud huff.

"He didn't like it when you were on the floor before." Frank said softly, as she moved tenderly to lay her head on his chest. His hand reached round to card through her hair and down the side of her neck.

"No he never has." Fliss said gently "Ever since I got him he's been like that. He would always be the one that would lay by me, lick my face after...." she trailed off, the sentence didn’t need completing. "He would growl something rotten at John when he started, but it was Loki that went for him in the end. That's why John killed him"

Frank stiffened, his hand stilling on the crown of her head, not quite sure he had heard right. "He killed your dog?" he repeated, questioningly.

"Yeah." Fliss swallowed. “He said he had bought him as a guard dog for the property not for me." She sniffed a little. "He poisoned him"

"Oh, Lissy, I..." Frank sighed and she gently tangled her hand in the hair on his chest.

"I know."

They lay still for a moment, her hand tracing shapes on his skin before she suddenly blurted out.

"How do you do it? How do you make being with you so fucking easy?"

"What?" Frank frowned.

"This...I mean...you're kind, gentle, smart, funny, considerate. You know I’d half convinced myself you were gonna be crap in the sack to compensate it all but..." she shook her head. "I don’t get it."

"You don't get it because you spent almost four years living with a cunt who treat you like shit" Frank said simply, anger flooding his system. “Lissy, I’m not perfect, far from it. I’m stubborn, opinionated, shit with words, I’m really untidy as you’ve noticed and, well, up until meeting you my longest relationship in the last ten years lasted for six months.” He shook his head. “All I do is treat you how you should be treated, with love and respect. Don’t put me on a fucking pedestal for being normal.”

She tilted her head and looked at him for a second, as Frank took a breath. That outburst had been a little uncalled for and harsher in tone than he’d meant, but he wanted her to understand that their relationship was normal. The way he treat her was normal. He was uncomfortable with this idea that she thought he was something special because he didn’t abuse her or hit her.

“I’m sorry I just…” he felt her stiffen besides him and he let out a soft sigh.

“No, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to sound so abrupt.” He gently pulled her closer and nuzzled his face into her hair, kissing her head “You’re worthy of everything I said as a bare minimum. It’s not me being some kind of saint.”

“Can I put you on a pedestal for being gorgeous?” she asked after a moment’s pause and Frank snorted, shaking his head. “Well you are.” She protested at his response. There was another pause, until she broke the silence once more. “I do get it you know. Maybe I do appreciate you more because you’re not like him but, is that so wrong?”

“I’m not saying that, we’re together, we should appreciate each other.” he pressed. “I’m just telling you I’m not flawless.” “I know that.” she shrugged “Neither of us are. But isn’t that what makes this so perfect? It is because it isn’t. Better a diamond with a flaw than a pebble without”

“Confucius.” Frank raised an eyebrow at her, a small smile on his face as she looked up at him once more. Her eyes flashed and she grinned at him “How very philosophical.”

She laughed “We’ll you’d know all about that, Professor.”

“Okay, here’s another one of his.” Frank grinned back. “Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall…”

“See, I told you I was right to get back on Bronson.” she quipped and at that Frank laughed.

******

Fliss woke the next morning to Frank gently kissing her cheek, softly running his hand over her hair.

“Morning Sweetheart.” he placed a mug of coffee on the side as she blinked and looked at him “How you feeling?” “Fucking sore.” she groaned. “What time is it?” “Half eight. I just packed Mary off on the bus.” “Half eight?” she sat up suddenly, immediately regretting it and winced once more. “Fuck, my alarm”

“Yeah I turned it off. Think the last batch of painkillers you took at three am wiped you out.” he sat on the edge of the bed as she shuffled up. She made to reach for her drink and let out a little huff of pain so Frank stopped her and handed it to her.

“Thanks.” She smiled. “I’ll ease off when I start to move about.”

“Well, don’t rush about.” He instructed as she took a drink of her coffee, before he saw her face fall.

“Oh, shit. I have a lesson to give at ten in St Pete’s…” she frowned, and Frank could she she was starting to worry so he gently reached out, tucking her wild auburn locks behind her ear.

“Just chill.” He shushed her. “Joanne called before.” He nodded to her phone “I answered and told her I didn’t know if you were gonna be in but she said she’d open up and reschedule your morning appointments. Then you can see how you feel this afternoon.”

For a moment he thought she was going to flip out at him effectively making a decision like that for her but after a second or two pause she gave a grateful smile and sat back against the pillows.

“Thank you.”

“Take your time, your mom and dad will be here in a bit. Then we’re gonna get the keys and start on the apartment.” Fliss grinned as she took another drink of coffee.“You excited?” “Yeah, yeah I am.” He said, honestly. “Just wanna get it all started and then we can move in.” She smiled and he stood up. “Your mom’s bringing breakfast, said something about her boys not being able to work on an empty stomach.” He arched a brow. “Her boys?” Fliss smirked over her mug. “You really have got her wrapped around your finger.” He chuckled “Well what can I say, I’m a likeable guy…” “Hmmm you’re something I’ll give you that.” she quipped, and he laughed, placing a kiss on her cheek before heading back out of the room.

It wasn’t long before Fliss’ parents arrived and they ate breakfast, Verity fussing over Fliss who kept assuring her and her dad that they were fine. Once they’d eaten, Bill and Frank headed over to meet his new landlord and after he handed over the keys, they got to work. For their first task they shut the utilities off and ripped out the bathroom, which wasn’t too big a job seeing as half of the damned suite was smashed up anyway. Once that was done they moved into the living room and tossed out the tatty old furniture that had been left before doing their first run to the local dump. Then they moved onto ripping up the carpet in the living room.

“Shit!” Bill spluttered as a cloud of dust rose up from where they had wrenched the offending item free from the tacks. Frank blinked, backing up slightly, before he stood up, arm across his mouth. “Didn’t think it would be that bad.”

Bill rose to his feet and they both moved away, Frank picking up a bottle of water that was on the side and rinsing his face with it. He tossed it to Bill who did the same, the pair of them looking at one another before snorting a laugh each, and shaking their heads.

“And I thought this would be the easy bit.” Bill wiped his face. “Was less hassle ripping out the bathroom.”

It took them an hour or so to cut the carpet into easily manageable pieces, rip it up, and toss it into the back of their trucks. By now it was scorching outside, and also inside as the air con wasn’t on seeing as they had no power. This meant both men were dripping with sweat and Frank couldn’t remember ever feeling so damned warm or grubby in his entire life.

By lunch time they’d pretty much cleared the lot. Carpets, broken light fittings, broken kitchen doors and also the old washing machine. Grabbing another bottle of water, Frank stood outside the apartment, hand on his hips and smiled at Bill who gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“Good job, son.” he nodded. “It’s a blank canvas now. Dave will be here soon with the new bathroom, shouldn’t take us too long to plumb it all in, connections are already there. We can start the tiling tomorrow.”

Frank smiled and grabbed his T-shirt at the bottom, lifting it up to wipe at his face and as he did so he heard a sharp wolf whistle. When he emerged from his shirt he grinned and looked at Fliss who was slowly walking towards them with Verity, Thor following behind, both women carried familiar paper bags.

Frank made his way over and she stopped, where as Verity carried on, quite tactfully towards Bill and Fliss grinned.

“Hey.” she greeted him as he leaned down to give her a kiss and she wrinkled her face. “Gross, you’re all filthy and sweaty and…” She trailed off, her eyes glinting as her voice dropped slightly and she ran a hand up his arm to his shoulder “Actually…” “Behave.” he raised his eyebrow at her.

“Don’t wanna.” she pouted.

He shook his head and nodded to the bag. “You bring me lunch, Honey?”

“You need to keep your strength up.” She winked. “Mom drove us to Subway.” “I love you Verity!” Frank called as he fished out his Turkey sub and she grinned at him.

The four of them settled down where they could, Fliss sitting on the steps, Frank by her feet on the lawn and Bill and Verity perched on the tail of Bill’s truck. They ate together, Fliss telling Frank she’d postponed her teaching now until Monday to allow herself time to heal a little, which he was secretly pleased about. It wasn’t long after they had finished lunch that the new bathroom turned up the women left them to it.

Frank and Bill worked well together and between the two of them they had it fit in little under two hours and Bill connected the water back up to test it. When it worked properly Frank gave a nod of satisfaction and smiled. The suite was an off white colour, nice and with a modern large bath. It might have been second hand but you couldn’t tell, and Frank liked it.

“Not bad for a day’s work.” Bill smiled. “The tiling shouldn’t take too long tomorrow and then, well, it’s just a case of decorating and a new carpet.” At that point the two men heard footsteps and looked up to see Mary bounding in, followed by Fliss and Verity.

“Hey Stack.” Frank greeted her as she looked around. “Whaddya think so far?” Mary nodded appreciatively. “Least it has a toilet.” The adults laughed and Frank nodded “Yeah, I mean we can move in now.” “What?” she frowned “There’s no carpet in the living room!”

“I was being sarcastic.” Frank replied and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Roberta says sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.”

“Well, she’d know.” he shrugged.

“Am I staying there tonight?” She questioned Frank.

“It’s up to you.” he replied “We’re not going out are we, Honey?”

Fliss shook her head “No way, I ache too much, but I was thinking we could BBQ maybe? All of us?” “Ooooh, yeah!” Mary nodded, agreeably “Then Roberta can come too.” Frank shrugged “Yeah, I’m ok with that.” “Mum, Dad?” Fliss asked.

Verity and Bill exchanged looks and Bill nodded. “I need to nip home and shower first but…” “No need.” Fliss shook her head. “We swung by and picked you a spare change up. You can shower at Frank’s.” “Oh can I?” Bill looked at her. She grinned back in response as Bill turned to Frank “That okay? You know, seeing as it’s your place, not hers.” Fliss stuck her tongue out at her father whilst Frank simply shrugged.

“She acts like she owns the damned place when she’s there anyway so it might as well be.” he teased and she glared at him, digging him in the ribs.

“Shut up”

*****

The next ten days consisted much in the same vein. Frank had to work on the Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday but Bill took over the painting for him, and then on the Friday, a week after they had started, they fit the new carpets. The Saturday they spent fixing on the new kitchen doors and plumbing in the washing machine and on Sunday morning Frank fit the final touches, screwing in the new light fittings and then it was done.

That afternoon, Frank and Fliss stood in the middle of the living room admiring the finished article. It smelt of new carpet and wet paint, a smell Frank had grown immune to having been breathing it in for god knows how long.

“It looks great.” Fliss smiled, taking the fresh, light grey walls, darker grey carpet which was complemented by the brushed steel modern light fittings.

“Yeah, not a bad job.” Frank grinned. “We can start moving the stuff over tomorrow.” At that point Mary barrelled in from the hallway and beamed “My room looks awesome, Fliss, come see!” She gushed. Fliss allowed Mary to pull her out of the living room and followed her down the hall to the room on the right. It was a good sized bedroom, and it was freshly painted in light blue, a colour Mary had chosen herself.

“Frank says I’m getting a new cabin bed soon with a desk underneath and I’m gonna put it against that wall.” She rambled on. “And on that wall I’m gonna stick my shells and there I’m gonna have my shelves for my books and a TV…” Frank leaned in the doorway watching as Mary pointed everything out to Fliss, his face curling into a smile. He’d never thought something so simple as having her own room would make the girl so damned happy.

“…and Fred can have his own basket, although he never sleeps in them anyway…” Mary was continuing and Fliss looked up and caught Frank’s eye. He smiled at her gently and she beamed back. “…and I can put my photos here…” Mary finished “What do you think?” “I think it sounds amazing, Stack.” Fliss said, smiling at her “I can’t wait to see it all finished.” “Okay.” Frank pushed himself up straight from the door frame “Let’s go grab your stuff Stack and head over to find out what V’s made for dinner.” “I hope it’s beef.” Mary said, skipping out “Her Sunday beef is the best.” “It’s chicken.” Fliss whispered as Frank laughed, dropping an arm round her shoulders as they made their way outside. He locked the door and they headed back to the apartment, Mary collecting her stuff. Once Frank had checked she had everything she needed he tossed it into the truck and turned to Fliss.

“I’ve been thinking.” he said, as Mary climbed into the seat.

“Sounds dangerous.” Frank rolled his eyes “I know we said we weren’t gonna move in together yet, but, well, how about you bring some stuff over once I’ve got all the bedroom furniture and then that way you don’t need to pack a bag when you come stay.” Fliss smiled at him. “A sensible suggestion.” she agreed, her arms sliding around his neck.

“It has been known.” He grinned, his hands dropping to her hips as he leaned down to kiss her. They both jumped as the horn on the truck sounded and Mary leaned across the seats.

“Come on, stop kissing, I’m hungry.” “How about we ditch her on the side of the road?” Frank spoke loudly to Fliss and Mary scoffed.

“Stop making empty threats, Frank.” she sing songed.

Frank looked at Fliss who burst out laughing “You have no idea how damned similar the pair of you are.” She smiled with a shake of her head. *******

It was almost a fortnight later when Mary casually told Frank she had reached her decision about Evelyn. It was a Friday and she had been at University for two classes that morning, and was heading to normal school for the rest of the afternoon. Part of the reason that Frank worked late on a Tuesday was so that he could be flexible when it came to things like this and could pop out for an hour or so to go and pick her up when he needed to.

He greeted her in the hallway as always and she slipped her little hand into his as they walked back outside and over to his truck. She glanced in the paper bag which contained her lunch he had bought her from the deli near the boat store, a treat he liked to get her every Friday now he could happily afford it without worrying and she grinned.

“Save it for when you get to School. Otherwise everyone else will be eating and you won’t.” She folded the top of the paper bag over and grinned at him as he eased his way up the freeway.

“You drive like an old lady.” she grinned and Frank took a deep breath, a smirk on his face. That was a comment Fliss had made to him on numerous occasions, one which he normally retorted back with some reference to her driving like a maniac.

“It's Florida. I'm blending in.” He said simply to Mary, smile still playing on his lips. She side-eyed him for a moment, in a way that made her look ridiculously like Diane, even though he knew, again, that was a habit she’d picked up from Fliss. Or Roberta for that matter. Frank had a feeling that as Mary grew up she was going to be a perfect candidate for the whole nature v nurture debate…

“I talked to Fliss last night.” Mary said.

“I know, you stole the phone off me when she called and ran off to your room.”

“Yeah, why didn’t she stay with us last night?” “It’s Thursday, she never stays on a Thursday. You know this. She had paper work to do.” Mary fell silent.

“What were you going to say?” Frank gently pressed her.

“Huh?” “You said you talked to Fliss. Was that all you wanted to tell me or…” “Oh, no.” Mary replied “I asked her about whether I should see Evelyn.”

Frank took a deep breath, his face remaining passive “Right, so what did she say?” “The same as you. That it was my decision and whatever I wanted everyone would understand and be okay with it and that no one would be mad…”

“Of course no one will be mad.” Frank looked at her. “Evelyn is your grandmother, and it’s your decision if you wanna see her. Not mine, not the courts, not anybody’s but yours. And no one, not even me, is gonna be upset about what you decide, you got that?” “I know. And I’ve made up my mind.” “Yeah?” She nodded “I want to see her.” “Okay.” Frank licked his lips. Truth be told he wasn’t sure how he felt about this but he meant what he said. It was up to Mary and at least now he would have some control over the access. “If you’re sure then I’ll call her on Monday and we’ll make some arrangements.” “Maybe she can come here, see our new place.” “Maybe.” Frank nodded, although he had a feeling that hell freezing over would be more likely.

There was a moment’s silence as both of them were lost in their own thoughts. Frank stole a glance at his niece as she sat looking out of the window, chewing her lip and he decided to move her away from the subject as he turned off the main road.

“How was school?”

“Fun.” Mary nodded. “Not like regular school fun. But interesting.”

Fun. Regular. Two words Frank had craved for Mary all her damned life, and it made him smile to hear her so full of life, so happy, so settled.

Mary’s attention flickered from him to the seat next to her and she moved her lunch bag to look at it.

“What is this book?” she asked, picking it up and flicking it open.

“Discourse on Method.” Frank said, giving her the title of his latest read “Rene Descartes.”

“What's it about?” she pressed.

“Existence.”

“Existence?”

“Yup. I think, therefore I am” he said, a small smile on his face.

“Well, of course you are. That's obvious.” Marry rolled her eyes and Frank supressed a snort. Everything was so logical in her little brain, there was an innocence to it all that he loved.

“I think about Fred, therefore, I am Fred.” she continued.

“Cogito ergo Fred?” Frank teased looking at her.

“He's a dude and he's a guy,” Mary grinned, “and he only has one eye.”

Frank let out a chuckle as Mary tipped her head back and continued in a loud, ridiculous voice.

“Fred! Fred! Fred! Freeeeddddyyyy, Fred, Fred!”

Frank laughed began to slow down, pulling up by the school.

“All right, here we are.” He glanced over and saw Mary was fiddling with her belt and opening the door. “Hey, wait till I come to a stop…” he started to protest.

“Then come to a stop already!” Without so much as a glance back she grabbed her lunch and shot over to the playground which was brimming with other kids. He watched, a small smile playing on his face as she made her way over, dropping her lunch to the floor and throwing herself into a game. Something that he would never have believed possible back in September when she’d first started. But here she was, almost seven months later, like she’d been there all her life. His attention flicked to Bonnie as the woman shot him a friendly wave and a nod, which he returned before he set off back to work before someone called the cops on him for sitting outside a school staring at a yard full of kids.

****

As he was winding up at work for the day, Jake called him, an impromptu guys night out was being organised for that night as Jake had a ‘pass out’, his words not Frank’s. Frank hesitated for a moment, he hadn’t planned anything with Fliss as such, but it was Friday, their night…

“Oh come on!” Jake snorted as Frank rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me Frank Adler is hesitating over a night out!”

“No, it’s not that…” Frank protested “We’ve just had a really busy fortnight and…” “Man you’re whipped. Already. What is this? Like month five and you’re already in the-”

“I’m not whipped, I just like spending time with my girl, what’s wrong with that?”

“Dude come on!”

“Okay, okay.” Frank sighed. “What time?” “Eight at Fergs, and if you don’t show I’m gonna come round your gaff and drag you out myself.”

Frank shook his head and cut the call before he dialled Fliss.

“Hey, Sailor.” She greeted. “I was just thinking about you.”

“About me or that thing I did to you on Wednesday night?” he grinned and she snorted.

“No, about you. Although now I’m thinking about that thing.”

Frank chuckled. “So what were you thinking about?”

“Oh, erm, tonight. Thought we could grab a pizza and head up to the marina for a walk, maybe grab a beer.”

“Erm, yeah.” He sighed. Shit.

“We don’t have to.” She responded, clearly reading his voice tone. “It was just an idea.”

“No, I do, I just….” He took a deep breath. “Well, Jake called, said the guys are going for beers and it’s been a while since we all got together so I was…” “Frank…” Fliss laughed softly “You don’t need to justify yourself. If you wanna go out, go out.” “You don’t mind?”

“Why would I mind?”

“Well, Fridays are kinda our night.”

“I know but, well it’s not as much of a big thing now Mary has her own room, we kinda get our own nights a bit more often.” “Ok, fair point.” he smiled and she laughed.

“Maybe I can wait for you at yours? I can go to Roberta’s for a little while with Mary.” “You don’t have to ask.” Frank smiled softly “You can stay whenever you want, you know that.”

“Well, that’s settled then.” she replied, before someone shouted to her and she retorted before coming back to Frank “Sorry baby, I gotta go but I’ll see you later.” “Ok, love you.” “You too…”

***** After Frank headed out, Fliss wandered down to Roberta’s with a bottle of wine and after more loud hairbrush-karaoke, Roberta had cracked open the Bourbon and the two women had sat on the stoop until just gone eleven when Fliss had headed back. Throwing on one of Frank’s T-shirts she crawled into the king sized bed (an excellent purchase decision that she had talked him into) and snuggled down into the new blankets (another excellent purchase decision), Thor jumping up and taking his position by her feet.

She can’t have been asleep long when she woke as Thor gave a low whine and jumped off the bed, nudging the door open and heading out into the hallway.

Then she heard a thud, followed by cursing.

“Shit. Who put that there?” She heard Frank groan, then he started laughing “Thor! Get down!”

There was more laughing, and protests which Fliss listened to for a moment, before she swung her legs out of bed and headed down the short hallway. She quickly checked the front door as she walked past to make sure he’d locked it behind him, and then headed into the living room to find Frank led on the floor as Thor basically jumped all over him, licking his face and wagging his tail.

“Some guard dog you are.” Frank laughed again as he attempted to push the dog off him.

“Good job you’re not a burglar then.” Fliss spoke, causing Frank to look up, grinning stupidly at her “Mind you, the amount of noise you’re making you’d be a pretty shit one…”

“Heeey…” he grinned, as Thor finally moved off him and he pushed himself to his feet. “There you are!”

“Here I am.” Fliss nodded, and she couldn’t help but smile at the look on his face. He was beaming at her, a stark contrast to how John was when he used to come home drunk, but then that was Frank all over, a completely different person, and she knew that.

“There you are, my girl.” He stopped in front of her, his hands falling to her hips. “C’mere…”

“Ok, someone had a good night.” She grinned as he placed a sloppy kiss on her lips.

“Yeah, it was.” He nodded and then he suddenly looked around “So the bedroom moved.” he turned back to her and whispered conspiratorially. “It’s not where it usually is...”

“No, you moved.” She laughed. “You moved apartments, remember?”

“Oh yeah.” He nodded, before he looked down at her, taking in her bare legs “Is that my T-shirt?”

“Yes.” “Take it off, thief.” “Okay, let’s get you to bed.” Fliss patted his chest.

“Yeah?” He arched his eyebrow grinning.

“To sleep.”

“No sleep.” He pouted, dropping his head to gently nuzzle at her neck. “Wanna give you some lovin’...”

“Yeah and how are you gonna do that when you’re too drunk to take your pants off?” Fliss laughed as she led him down the hallway.

“You can take em off…” He said as he stopped in the bedroom, looking round.

“Oh I can, can I?” She asked as he kicked off his sneakers.

“Yes…” he nodded as he sat on the bed. “I’ll allow it.”

“You'll allow it?” Fliss deadpanned as he started to undo the buttons on his shirt. Eventually he gave up and reached back, grabbing it behind his neck and with a tug pulled it over his head, tossing it to the side. He reached out to Fliss, pulling her close to him, his arms wrapping around her back as he looked up at her.

“I will allow it, but only because I love you.”

“Ok so let me get this straight.” Fliss chuckled as she ran her hand through his hair. “You're gonna let me take your pants off because you love me?”

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“I'm so lucky…” She snorted

“Hey, I’m a catch…” Frank let go of her and flopped back on the bed.

“I never said otherwise.” she grinned, moving to take his belt off.

“Ah ha ha see, you do wanna get in my pants.” “I want to get you in bed, so help me out here hot-shot.” With a grin Frank raised his hips and she tugged down his jeans, dropping them by the side of the bed.

“Come on…” she patted the pillows and Frank shifted, moving the right way onto the bed and after a bit of a battle with the covers he’d settled himself down, one arm thrown over his head as he watched Fliss who gently turned off the lamp and settled down next to him. Shifting onto his side, his hand gently ran up her thigh, resting on her hip underneath his T-shirt.

“I love you.” He said softly, and she smiled and kissed the tip of his nose.

“I love you too.” she smiled “Even when you’re being a drunken idiot.” “I’m not drunk.” “Course not.” “Okay, maybe just a little bit.” he conceded after a moment. “But I do love you.” “I believe you.”

“So much, you know what? One day, I’m gonna marry you.”

“Oh, are you?” Fliss asked, running her hand through his hair.

“Yup, and then we’re gonna make little Franks and Flisses and…” he stopped as Fliss’ laughter filled the room. “Why are you laughing?” he asked her, his tone indignant “You don’t wanna marry me and make babies?”

“Not after us being together for like less than 6 months.” she laughed.

“Well that’s just rude…” he mumbled, dropping his head forward so it fell to her chest.

He stayed still for a moment, mumbling something else as Fliss continued to run her hands through her hair, and it wasn’t long before his soft snores told her he was asleep. With a fond smile she dropped a kiss to his head and closed her eyes.

*****

Fliss took great delight the next morning in telling Frank exactly how much shit he’d been talking when he came home, including telling her that he wanted to marry her and make babies. He’d groaned and banged his head on the table as he sat nursing a coffee, instantly regretting that as his head was pounding as it was. Thankfully, Mary had gone with Fliss to the yard and spent most of the day there leaving him to suffer in peace, firing abuse to the Circle Of Trust What’s-app group, his only slight consolation being they all seemed to be suffering just as much as he was.

He collapsed into bed on the Saturday at just gone ten pm and slept straight through to eight the next morning when he was woken by Fliss softly kissing him awake. He knew what she wanted, and happily obliged and once they were both spent and slightly sweaty from a particularly energetic sex session, they both showered and after a breakfast of Waffles and fruit, spent the rest of the morning browsing the IKEA website for a bed for Mary. They then headed over to Bill and Verity’s for the usual dinner before they’d all collapsed in bed at Fliss’ after watching a film together.

Monday morning brought the usual routine, shower, breakfast, kiss Fliss goodbye, drop Mary at school, head to work, check the list of active jobs for the week, start one of said active jobs, pause for a mid-morning snack from the coffee shop, resume work. All standard stuff, so it was a little surprising when the routine of the day was broken.

“Frank?”

Frank popped his head up from the deck of the boat where he’d been working on the steering column and looked at Fliss who was stood in the open entrance to the workshop.

“Hey…” he smiled, “What are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you but…”

Because he was, he was always happy to see her, he was simply surprised as they hadn’t arranged to meet for lunch like they sometimes did if she was teaching over this way. He stood up and reached for a cloth to wipe his hands on before he climbed down from the boat and as he noticed the look on her face he frowned.

“Baby, what’s the matter?”

“I err…I got a call and I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do and I just needed to see you and…”

“Hey, hey.” he soothed, his hands on her arms “Calm down.”

She took a deep breath as Frank glanced over to Paul, his co-worker and nodded his head to signal he was heading outside. Paul waved him away and Frank dropped an arm round Fliss’ shoulder and steered her outside into the sun and out of the view of everyone.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her and she nodded, taking a deep breath. He could see she’d been crying and he searched her eyes with his own as she looked at him.

“I got a phone call…from the Victim Assistance Services.” Her eyes were wide “John’s been granted the right to a Parole hearing. They’ve set the date for 23rd May, six weeks.” Frank took a deep breath, concentrating on keeping calm despite the fact he could quite happily have kicked something there and then.

“I don’t know why I’m so shocked.” Fliss continued “I mean I always knew this would happen, but hearing that he’s finally got a date...” she looked at Frank “If he’s successful, then he could be out by the end of June and…”

“Honey, just because he’s been given the right to a hearing, doesn’t necessarily mean he’s going to get out.” “The woman on the phone said that there’s a better chance that it will be refused if I appeal. But if I want to do that then I’ll have to either go in person or do a written or recorded statement and I don’t know if I can…” A tear fell from her eye and Frank gently wrapped her arms around her, pulling her to him. “I stood in a courtroom last time, telling them exactly what he did to me, about how he beat me and degraded me, only to be told I that I was a liar, and that I liked it rough, that I egged him on and… I can’t….I can’t do that again Frank…”

She was rambling into his chest and he could do nothing but pull her close and drop a kiss to her head.

“No one’s gonna make you do anything you don’t wanna.” he pulled away slightly, cupping her face in her hands.

“They’re sending me a letter.” she said “Explaining my rights and stuff in more detail.” “Want me to call Greg?” He asked, a sudden inspiration coming to him. “I know he’s a Family lawyer now but he did do some time with this type of thing a while back, if you’re happy to speak to him I’m sure he’ll be more than willing to help…”

“I don’t know if I can.” she sniffed. “I don’t know if want him knowing every detail, I mean even you don’t know it all…” “I know.” he agreed. “And you don’t have to tell him anything to start off with, just ask his advice.”

She sniffed gently, and looked at him. “I have to tell you don’t I?” She said softly, “All of it?”

Frank hesitated. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but if this was going the way it looked like it was going to go, he would find out sooner or later, and, as he looked at Fliss, he knew that no matter how hard it was, how shitty it was going to be to open up fully, she would need to do that herself to keep some control over the situation.

“You don’t have to do anything. But if you decide you want to, then I’ll listen.”

He dropped a kiss to her head and pulled her back to him, gently rocking her to-and-fro as he squinted out over the harbour.

**** Chapter 15

#riding high #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #gifted #gifted fan fic

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Riding High Ch 14: True Perfection Has To Be Imperfect

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: As always, if you like and enjoy please comment and Re-Blog. I’d love to head your thoughts and questions!

Chapter Song: Rewind by Stereophonics

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

It’s your time, it’s your day, it’s never too late, to change lanes.

Frank could tell something was off the minute he pulled onto the yard. The usual chatter that rang out was absent and there just seemed a general air about the place that he couldn’t identify. But it wasn’t long before he found out why.

“Fliss is on the floor!” Mary said, her voice loud with worry as she pointed into the paddock.

Frank felt himself grow cold as he began to jog towards the fence, but let out a sigh of relief when he saw she was moving.

“Wait here…” he instructed Mary before, with a flourish, he vaulted over the side of the paddock and jogged across the riding paddock.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Oh, hey babes!” Fliss grinned up at him, where she lay flat on her back, Thor led by her side, head on her thigh “Just had a fall…but everything’s working, just giving myself a minute to get my breath and what not…” “Nothing broken, everything’s working.” Joanne looked at him from where she knelt by Fliss, the reins to the big, black horse in her hands.

Frank knelt down next to Fliss and looked at her as she reached out and gently ran her hand down his forearm. “Why did you fall?” “Oh Bronson got confused at the jump, was trying to dodge out to the right. I corrected him and he kind of took off, twisted mid-air and I got unseated.” she said

“It was a pretty good show of acrobatics from him.” Joanne nodded in agreement.

Thor gave a little whine and his head moved, his eyes looking up at Fliss who scratched his ear.

“I’m ok mate.” she said softly. “I’m good.”

“This wouldn’t happen on a boat ya know” Frank said gently as she looked up at him, quirking an eyebrow as she propped herself up on her elbows.

“Boats are boring…nothing like having a half tonne animal between your legs” she said, causing him and Joanne to smirk.

“You’re terrible.” Joanne shook her head as Fliss simply grinned.

“Ok, I’m good to go….“ Fliss said, sitting up fully. Frank got up off his knees and held out his hand, gently pulling her to her feet. She dusted herself off and then turned to take Bronson’s reins off Joanne.

"Can you give me a leg up?” She asked and Frank felt his heart stop

“You cannot be serious!” he spluttered back.

“What?” she frowned at him.

“You’re getting back on?”

“Yeah.” she said, looking at him as if he was stupid “I’m not hurt, not realty, just gonna ache like hell for a few days. It’s the same as riding a bike, you don’t stop if you fall off!” “It’s a little different to riding-“

“Besides…” she spoke over him “He’ll be unsettled and if I don’t get on and end well it’s gonna be in his mind, and mine for that matter, for next time and it’ll just be a nightmare so…”

Frank knew there was no point in arguing with her. Instead he held his hands up and backed away as Joanne boosted her up.

“What happened?” Mary asked as he reached the paddock fence she was now perched up on.

“She fell off.” Frank said simply “She’s ok though. She’s back on.” They watched as Fliss gently walked the horse round before picking up trot, then canter and then turned him straight for the jump. Frank grimaced slightly but he needn’t have bothered, the horse cleared the fence and Fliss gently slowed him down, patting him.

“Fucking crazy…” Frank mumbled to himself, shaking his head.

Whilst Fliss wasn’t seriously injured, she was certainly feeling the effects later on that night. Frank had called Verity, despite Fliss’ protests that she was fine, who had dropped round to Frank’s with some painkillers that were slightly stronger than your average ones. Fliss had taken 2 before dinner and as a result had started feeling a little bit woozy and light headed, commenting to Frank that it felt like she’d been smoking something funny. After diverting Mary’s questions on what that meant, they’d watched a bit of TV until Fliss announced she was thirsty.

“I’ll get it…” Frank made to move but she stopped him.

“I’m fine.” she said, sitting up with a grimace, grabbing at her shoulder.

“Baby, just-“ “Frank, stop it!” she said a little sternly. “I’ve fallen off more horses than you have women.” “Wow…” he said, looking at her and she snorted.

“I just mean…well it ain’t the first time and it sure as hell won’t be the last, kinda comes with the territory. I’m just gonna be a bit bruised.”

“Ok…” he relented, and she pushed herself up off the sofa and walked slowly into the kitchen.

A moment later he heard her groan “Fraaaaaaank.” “What?”

“The soda’s on the top shelf…I can’t stretch my arm.” “What’s that? You do need my help?” he teased. “Stop being a dick.” she shot back, and with a wink at Mary who was laughing, he stood up and headed into the kitchen.

Not long after that they all ended up heading to bed. Frank knew that tomorrow was going to be a long day as he was getting the keys to the new apartment in the morning and they were starting the work straight away, Bill already scheduled to come and help. He’d booked as much time as he dared off work over the next week, given that he hadn’t been working there all that long but thankfully they’d been understanding and Bill had said he’d take over on the days Frank had to be in.

Fliss stretched out, hissing at the bite of pain that coursed through her side and shoulder, the noise she made caused Thor to immediately spring up on the bed, nuzzling his face into Fliss’ causing her to wince a little as he basically led over her like a huge teddy bear.

“Careful buddy…” Frank gently chastised the dog, reaching over to scratch his ears.

“Stupid soft git.” Fliss said fondly, as Thor lay his head on her chest, teetering on the edge of the mattress, precariously, until a few seconds later he rolled and toppled off causing them both to giggle. The German shepherd shook himself off, shot them a scathing look, before he headed to his bed and flopped down.

“He didn’t like it when you were on the floor before.” Frank said softly, as she moved tenderly to lay her head on his chest. His hand reached round to card through her hair and down the side of her neck.

“No he never has.” Fliss said gently “Ever since I got him he’s been like that. He would always be the one that would lay by me, lick my face after….” she trailed off, the sentence didn’t need completing. "He would growl something rotten at John when he started…but it was Loki that went for him in the end. That’s why John killed him"

Frank stiffened, his hand stilling on the crown of her head, not quite sure he had heard right. “He killed your dog.” he repeated.

“Yeah” Fliss swallowed “said he had bought him as a guard dog for the property not for me.” She sniffed a little “he poisoned him”

“Baby, I…” Frank sighed and she gently tangled her hand in the hair on his chest.

“It’s ok.” She said, instantly understanding. “I know.”

They lay still for a moment, her hand tracing shapes on his skin before she suddenly blurted out.

“How do you do it? How do you make being with you so fucking easy?”

“What?” Frank frowned.

“This…I mean…you’re kind, gentle, smart, funny, considerate…you know I’d half convinced myself you were gonna be crap in the sack to compensate it all but…” she shook her head and Frank snorted. “I don’t get it.”

“No, you don’t get it because you spent almost 4 years living with a cunt who treat you like shit” Frank said simply, anger flooding his system. “Fliss, I’m not perfect, far from it. I’m stubborn, opinionated, shit with words, I’m really untidy as you’ve noticed and, well, up until meeting you my longest relationship in the last 10 years lasted for 6 months…” he shook his head “All I do is treat you how you should be treated, with love, respect, care…sweetheart, don’t put me on a pedestal for being normal.”

She tilted her head and looked at him for a second, as Frank took a breath. That outburst had been a little uncalled for but he wanted her to understand, their relationship was normal. The way he treat her was normal. He was uncomfortable with this idea that she thought he was something special because he didn’t abuse her or hit her.

“I’m sorry I just…” he gently pulled her closer and nuzzled his face into her hair, kissing her head “You’re worthy of everything you said as a bare minimum honey, it’s not me being some kind of saint.”

“Well can I put you on a pedestal for being gorgeous?” she asked after a moment’s pause and Frank snorted, shaking his head. “Well you are.” she protested at his response.

There was another pause, until she broke the silence once more

“I do get it you know…” she said gently “Maybe I do appreciate you more because you’re not like him but…is that so wrong?”

“I’m not saying that.” he pressed. “I’m just telling you I’m not flawless.” “I know that.” she shrugged “Neither of us are. But…isn’t that what makes this so perfect? It is because it isn’t…Better a diamond with a flaw than a pebble without”

“Confucius…” Frank raised an eyebrow at her as she looked up at him once more. Her eyes flashed and she grinned at him “How very philosophical.”

She laughed “We’ll you’d know all about that…”

“Ok, here’s another one of his…” Frank said “Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall…”

“See, I told you I was right to get back on Bronson.” she quipped and Frank laughed.

******

Fliss woke the next morning to Frank gently kissing her check, softly running his hand over her hair.

“Lissy, hey sweetheart.” he said, placing a mug of coffee on the side as she blinked and looked at him “How you feeling?” “Fucking sore…” she groaned. “What time is it?” “Half 8.” he said “Just packed Mary off on the bus.” “Half 8?” she sat up suddenly, immediately regretting it “Fuck…”she groaned. “My alarm…”

“Think the last batch of painkillers you took at 3 am wiped you out.” he said, with a chuckle

“I have a lesson at 10 in St Pete’s…” she was starting to flap and so he gently sat on the edge of the bed, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Just…chill.” he shushed her “Joanne called before.” he nodded to her phone “I said I didn’t know if you were gonna be in but she said she’d open up and reschedule your morning appointments. Then you can see how you feel this afternoon.”

Fliss gave a grateful smile and sat back against the pillows “Thank you.”

“Take your time, your mom and dad will be here in a bit. Then we’re gonna get the keys and start on the apartment.” Fliss grinned as she reached for her coffee, “You excited?” “Yeah, yeah I am.” he said, honestly “Just wanna get it all started and then we can move in.”

She smiled and he stood up “Your mom’s bringing breakfast, said something about her boys not being able to work on an empty stomach.” “Her boys?” Fliss smirked as she sipped her drink “You really have got her wrapped around your finger.” He chuckled “Well what can I say, I’m a likeable guy…” “Hmmm you’re something I’ll give you that.” she said, and he laughed, heading back out of the room.

It wasn’t long before Fliss’ parents arrived and they ate breakfast, before Bill and Frank headed over to start working. For their first task they shut the utilities off and ripped out the bathroom, which wasn’t too big a job seeing as half of the damned suite was smashed up anyway. Once that was done they moved into the living room and tossed out the tatty old furniture that had been left before doing their first run to the local skip. Then they moved onto ripping up the carpet in the living room.

“Shit!” Bill muttered as a cloud of dust rose up from where they had wrenched the offending item free from the tacks. Frank blinked, backing up slightly, before he stood up, arm across his mouth. “Didn’t think it would be that bad.”

“And I thought this would be the easy bit.” Bill said, “Was less hassle ripping out the bathroom.”

“Good job son.” he said, “It’s a blank canvas now. Dave will be here soon with the new bathroom, shouldn’t take us too long to plumb it all in, connections are already there…so we can start the tiling tomorrow.”

Frank nodded and grabbed his T-shirt at the bottom, lifting it up to wipe at his face and as he did so he heard a sharp wolf whistle. When he emerged from his shirt he grinned and looked at Fliss who was slowly walking towards them with Verity, Thor following behind, both women carried familiar paper bags.

Frank made his way over and she stopped, where as her mother carried on, quite tactfully towards Bill and Fliss grinned.

“Hey…” she said as he leaned down to give her a kiss and she wrinkled her face. “Gross, you’re all filthy and sweaty and…” she trailed off, her eyes glinting as her voice dropped slightly and she ran a hand up his arm to his shoulder “…actually… “Behave.” he raised his eyebrow at her.

“Don’t wanna.” she pouted.

He shook his head and nodded to the bag. “You bring me lunch, baby?”

“Need to keep your strength up” she winked “Mom drove us to Subway.” “I love you Verity!” Frank called as he fished out his Turkey sub and she grinned at him.

The 4 of them settled down where they could, Fliss sitting on the steps, Frank by her feet on the grass and Bill and Verity perched on the tail of Bill’s truck. They ate together, Fliss telling Frank she’d postponed her teaching now until Monday to allow herself time to heal a little, which he was secretly pleased about. It wasn’t long after they had finished lunch that the new bathroom turned up the women left them to it.

Frank and Bill worked well together and between the 2 of them they had it fit in little under 2 hours and Bill connected the water back up to test it. When it worked properly Frank gave a nod of satisfaction and smiled. The suit was an off white colour, nice and modern large bath with a matching stainless steel shower and basin unit. Second hand but you couldn’t tell, and he liked it.

“Not bad for a day’s work.” Bill smiled “The tiling shouldn’t take too long tomorrow and then…well, it’s a case of decorating and a new carpet…and you’re good.” At that point the 2 men heard footsteps and looked up to see Mary bounding in, followed by Fliss and Verity.

“Hey Stack.” Frank greeted her as she looked around. “Whaddya think so far?” Mary nodded appreciatively “Least it has a toilet.” The adults laughed and Frank nodded “Yeah, I mean we can move in now…” “What?” she frowned “There’s no carpet in the living room!”

“I was being sarcastic.” Frank said and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Roberta says sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.”

“Well, she’d know.” he shrugged.

“Am I staying there tonight?” She questioned Frank.

“It’s up to you.” he replied “We’re not going out are we honey?”

Fliss shook her head “No way, I ache too much…but I was thinking we could BBQ maybe? All of us?” “Ooooh, yeah!” Mary nodded, agreeably “Then Roberta can come too.” Frank shrugged “Yeah, I’m ok with that.” “Mum, Dad?” Fliss asked.

Verity and Bill exchanged looks and Bill nodded “I need to nip home and shower first but…” “No need.” Fliss said “We swung by and picked you a spare change up. You can shower at Franks.” “Oh can I?” Bill looked at her. She grinned back in response as Bill turned to Frank “That ok? You know, seeing as it’s your place, not hers…” Fliss stuck her tongue out at her father whilst Frank simply shrugged.

“She acts like she owns the damned place when she’s there anyway so it might as well be…” he teased and she glared at him, digging him in the ribs.

“Shut up”

The next 10 days consisted much in the same vein. Frank had to work on the Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday but Bill took over the painting for him, and then on the Friday, a week after they had started, they fit the new carpets. The Saturday they spent fixing on the new kitchen doors and plumbing in the washing machine and on Sunday morning Frank fit the final touches, screwing in the new light fittings and then it was done.

That afternoon, Frank and Fliss stood in the middle of the living room admiring the finished article. It smelt of new carpet and fresh paint, a smell Frank had grown immune to having been breathing it in for god knows how long.

“It looks great” Fliss smiled, taking the fresh, light grey walls, darker grey carpet which was complemented by the brushed steel modern light fittings.

“Yeah, not a bad job…” Frank grinned. “We can start moving the stuff over tomorrow…” At that point Mary barrelled into the room from the hallway and beamed “My room looks awesome, Fliss, come see…” she said. Fliss allowed Mary to pull her out of the living room and followed her down the hall, passed the bedroom and then to the room on the right. It was a good sized bedroom, and it was freshly painted in Lilac, a colour Mary had chosen herself.

“Frank says I’m getting a new cabin bed soon with a desk underneath and I’m gonna put it against that wall…” she rambled on “And on that wall I’m gonna stick my shells and there I’m gonna have my shelves for my books and a TV…” Frank leaned in the doorway watching as Mary pointed everything out to Fliss, his face curling into a smile. He’d never thought something so simple as having her own room would make the girl so damned happy.

“…and Fred can have his own basket, although he never sleeps in them anyway…” Mary was continuing and Fliss looked up and caught Frank’s eye. He smiled at her gently and she beamed back. “…and I can put my photos here…” Mary finished “What do you think?” “I think it sounds amazing kiddo.” Fliss said, smiling at her “I can’t wait to see it all finished.” “Ok…” Frank pushed himself up straight from the door frame “Let’s go grab your stuff Stack and head over to find out what V’s made for dinner.” “I hope its beef.” Mary said, skipping out “Her Sunday beef is the best.” “Don’t tell her it’s chicken…” Fliss whispered as Frank laughed, dropping and arm round her shoulders as they made their way outside. He locked the door and they headed back to the apartment, Mary collecting her stuff. Once Frank had checked she had everything she needed he tossed it into the truck and turned to Fliss.

“I’ve been thinking.” he said, as Mary climbed into the seat.

“It has been known…” he grinned, his hands dropping to her hips as he leaned down to kiss her. They both jumped as the horn on the truck sounded and Mary leaned across the seats.

“Come on, stop kissing, I’m hungry.” “How about we ditch her on the side of the road?” Frank said loudly to Fliss and Mary scoffed.

“Stop making empty threats, Frank.” she sing songed.

Frank looked at Fliss who burst out laughing “You have no idea how damned similar the pair of you are…” she said, with a shake of her head. *******

It was almost a fortnight later when Mary casually told Frank she had reached her decision about Evelyn. It was a Friday, meaning that she had been at University for 2 classes that morning, and was heading to normal school for the rest of the afternoon. Part of the reason that Frank worked late on a Tuesday was so that he could be flexible when it came to things like this and could pop out for an hour or so to go and pick her up when he needed to.

“Save it for when you get to School” he said gently. “Otherwise everyone else will be eating and you won’t.” She folded the top of the paper bag over and grinned at him as he eased his way up the freeway.

“It’s Florida. I’m blending in.” he said simply to Mary, smile still playing on his lips. She side-eyed him for a moment, in a way that made her look ridiculously like Diane, even though he knew, again, that was a habit she’d picked up from Fliss. Or Roberta for that matter. Frank had a feeling that as Mary grew up she was going to be a perfect candidate for the whole nature v nurture debate…

“I talked to Fliss last night.” Mary said.

“I know, you stole the phone off me when she called and ran off to your room.” Frank said, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, why didn’t she stay with us last night?” “It’s Thursday, she never stays on a Thursday. You know this. She had paper work to do.” Mary fell silent.

“What were you going to say?” Frank gently pressed her.

“Huh?” “You said you talked to Fliss…” he said “Was that all you wanted to tell me or…” “Oh, yeah…” Mary said, “I asked her about whether I should see Evelyn.”

Frank took a deep breath, his face remaining passive “Right…so what did she say?” “The same as you. That it was my decision and whatever I wanted everyone would understand and be ok with it and that no one would be mad…”

“Of course no one will be mad.” Frank said gently “Evelyn is your grandmother, and it’s your decision if you wanna see her. Not mine, not the courts, not anybody’s but yours. And no one, not even me, is gonna be upset about what you decide, you got that?” “I know.” she said “And I’ve made up my mind.” “Yeah?” She nodded “I want to see her.” “Ok.” Frank said, licking his lips. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this but at least he would have control over it. “If you’re sure then I’ll call her on Monday and then we’ll make some arrangements.” “Maybe she can come here, see our new place.” “Maybe.” Frank nodded, although he had a feeling that hell freezing over would be more likely. No, contact would probably take place over some impersonal lunch to start with…but, well, he’d keep an open mind. This wasn’t about him, it was about Mary.

“How was school?” he asked.

“Fun.” Mary nodded “Not like regular school fun. But interesting.”

Fun. Regular. 2 words Frank had craved for Mary all her damned life, and it made him smile to hear her so full of life, so happy, so settled.

Mary’s attention flickered from him to the seat next to her and she moved her lunch bag to look at it.

“What is this book?” she asked, picking it up and flicking it open.

“Discourse on Method.” Frank said, giving her the title of his latest read “Rene Descartes.”

“What’s it about?” she pressed.

“Existence.”

“Existence?”

“Yup. I think, therefore I am” he said, a small smile on his face.

“Well, of course you are. That’s obvious.” she said with a roll of her eyes and Frank supressed a snort. Everything was so logical in her little brain, there was an innocence to it all that he loved.

“I think about Fred, therefore, I am Fred…” she continued.

“Cogito ergo Fred?” Frank teased looking at her.

“He’s a dude and he’s a guy…” Mary grinned “And he only has one eye.”

Frank let out a chuckle as Mary tipped her head back and continued in a loud, ridiculous voice.

“Fred! Fred! Fred! Freeeeddddyyyy, Fred, Fred!”

Frank laughed began to slow down, pulling up by the school.

“All right, here we are…” he glanced over and saw Mary was fiddling with her belt and opening the door. “Hey, wait till I come to a stop…” he started to protest.

“Then come to a stop already!” she said, rolling her eyes. Without so much as a glance back she grabbed her lunch and shot over to the playground which was brimming with other kids. He watched, a small smile playing on his face as she made her way over, dropping her lunch to the floor and throwing herself into a game. Something that he would never have believed possible back in September when she’d first started. But here she was, almost 7 months later, like she’d been there all her life. His attention flicked to Bonnie as the woman shot him a friendly wave and a nod, which he returned before he set off back to work before someone called the cops on him for sitting outside a school staring at a yard full of kids.

As he was winding up work Jake called him, an impromptu guys night out was being organised for that night as Jake had a ‘pass out’, his words not Frank’s. Frank hesitated for a moment, he hadn’t planned anything with Fliss as such, but it was Friday, their night…

“Oh come on!” Jake snorted as Frank rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me Frank Adler is hesitating over a night out…”

“No, it’s not that…” Frank protested “We’ve just had a really busy fortnight and…” “Man you’re whipped. Already. What is this? Like month 5 and you’re already in the-”

Frank sighed. “I’m not whipped, I just like spending time with my girl, what’s wrong with that.”

“Dude come on!”

“Ok, alright…what time?” “8 is at Fergs…and if you don’t show I’m gonna come round your gaff and drag you out myself.”

Frank shook his head and cut the call before he dialled Fliss.

“Hey Sailor…” she greeted

“Hey sweetheart, listen, we didn’t have any plans tonight did we?” “No, nothing specific why?” “Jake just called, said the guys are going for beers and it’s been a while since we all got together so I was…” “Frank…” Fliss laughed softly “You don’t need to justify yourself. If you wanna go out, go out.” “You don’t mind?”

“Why would I mind?”

“Well, Fridays are kinda our night…”

“I know but, well it’s not as much of a big thing now Mary has her own room, we kinda get our own nights a bit more often…” That was true. Frank grinned as he recalled the last time Fliss had stayed over, a rather heated make out session on the couch had ensued…something that seemed so normal to everyone else but had been such a damned big deal to them, being able to actually do it when they wanted instead of scheduling it round when Mary was gonna be out, or they were at Fliss so she was in the spare room…

“Ok, fair point.” he smiled and she laughed.

“I’ll text Roberta.” she said “I can take a bottle of wine round later with Mary…then I can, maybe, wait for you at yours?” “You don’t have to ask.” Frank said softly “You can stay whenever you want, you know that.”

“Well, that’s settled then.” she replied, before someone shouted to her and she retorted before coming back to Frank “Sorry handsome, I gotta go but I’ll see you later.” “Ok, love you.” “You too…”

***** After Frank headed out, Fliss wandered down to Roberta’s with a bottle of wine and after more loud hairbrush-karaoke, Roberta had cracked open the Bourbon and the two women had sat on the stoop until just gone 11pm when Fliss had headed back. Throwing on one of Frank’s T-shirts she crawled into the king sized bed (an excellent purchase decision that she had talked him into) and snuggled down into the new blankets (another excellent purchase decision), Thor jumping up and taking his position by her feet.

She can’t have been asleep long when she woke as Thor gave a low whine and jumped off the bed, nudging the door open and heading out into the hallway.

Then she heard a thud, followed by cursing.

“Shit…who put that there?” She heard Frank mumble, then he started laughing “Thor…get down…”

There was more laughing, and protests which Fliss listened to for a moment before she swung her legs out of bed and headed down the short hallway. She quickly checked the front door as she walked past to make sure he’d locked it behind him, and then headed into the living room to find Frank stood laughing as Thor jumped up at him, wagging his tail. The coffee table was slightly askew, and she suspected the thud had been him banging into it.

“Some guard dog you are…” Frank mumbled.

“Good job you’re not a burglar then…” Fliss said, causing Frank to turn round, grinning stupidly at her “Mind you, the amount of noise you’re making you’d be a pretty shit one…”

“Heeey…” he grinned, walking towards her “There she is…”

“Here I am…” Fliss nodded, and she couldn’t help but smile at the look on his face. He was beaming at her, a stark contrast to how John was when he used to come home drunk, but then that was Frank all over, a completely different person, and she knew that.

“There you are, my girl…” he stopped in front of her, his hands falling to her hips “C’mere…”

“Ok, someone had a good night…” she grinned as he placed a sloppy kiss on her lips.

“Yeah, it was…” he said, and then he suddenly looked around “So the bedroom moved.” he turned back to her and whispered conspiratorially “It’s not where it usually is…”

“No, you moved.” she laughed “You moved apartments, remember?”

“Oh yeah.” he said, nodding, before he looked down at her, taking in her bare legs “Is that my T-shirt?”

“Yes.” “I like you in my shirts.” he grinned, his hands flexing on her hips “Prefer you outta them though…” “That so?”

“Yep.” he said, popping the P “My LIssy…” “Ok, let’s get you to bed…” she patted his chest.

“Yeah?” he arched his eyebrow grinning.

“To sleep.” she said

“No sleep.” he pouted, dropping his head to gently nuzzle at her neck “Wanna give you some lovin’…”

“Yeah and how are you gonna do that when you’re too drunk to take your pants off?” Fliss laughed as she led him down the hallway.

“You can take em off…” he said as he stopped in the bedroom, looking round.

“Oh I can, can I?” she asked as he kicked off his sneakers.

“Yes…” he said, nodding as he sat on the bed. “I’ll allow it.”

“You’ll allow it?” Fliss asked as he started to undo the buttons on his shirt. Eventually he gave up and reached back, grabbing it behind his neck and with a tug pulled it over his head before tossing it to the side. He reached out to Fliss, pulling her close to him, his arms wrapping around her back as he looked up at her.

“I will allow it, but only because I love you.”

“Ok so let me get this straight…” Fliss chuckled as she ran her hand through his hair. “You’re gonna let me take your pants off because you love me?”

“Yeah.” he nodded.

“I’m so lucky…” she snorted

“Hey, I’m a catch…” he said, letting go of her and flopping back on the bed.

“I never said otherwise.” she grinned, moving to take his belt off.

“See, you do wanna get in my pants.” “I want to get you in bed, so help me out here hot-shot.” With a grin Frank raised his hips and she tugged down his jeans, dropping them by the side of the bed.

“I love you.” he said softly, and she smiled and kissed the tip of his nose.

“I love you too.” she smiled “Even when you’re being a drunken idiot.” “I’m not drunk.” “Course not.” “Ok, maybe just a little bit.” he conceded after a moment. “But I do love you.” “I believe you.”

“So much, you know what? One day, I’m gonna marry you.”

“Oh, are you?” Fliss asked, running her hand through his hair.

“Yup, and then we’re gonna make little Franks and Flisses and…” he stopped as Fliss’ laughter filled the room “Why are you laughing?” he asked her, his tone indignant “You dont wanna marry me and make babies?”

“Not after us being together for like less than 6 months.” she laughed.

“Well that’s just rude…” he mumbled, dropping his head forward so it fell to her chest.

*****

Monday morning had rolled around with the usual routine, shower, breakfast, kiss Fliss goodbye, drop Mary at school, head to work, check the list of active jobs for the week, start one of said active jobs, pause for a mid-morning snack from the coffee shop, resume work. All standard stuff, so it was a little surprising when the routine of the day was broken.

“Frank?”

Frank popped his head up from the deck of the boat where he’d been working on the steering column and looked at Fliss who was stood in the open entrance to the workshop.

“Hey…” he smiled, “What are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you but…”

“Baby, what’s the matter?”

“I err…I got a call and I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do and I just needed to see you and…”

“Hey, hey…” he said softly, his hands on her arms “Calm down.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked her and she nodded, taking a deep breath. He could see she’d been crying and he searched her eyes with his own as she looked at him.

“I got a phone call…from the Victim Assistance Services…” she said, her eyes wide “John’s been granted the right to a Parole hearing…they’ve set the date for 23rd May, 6 weeks.” Frank took a deep breath, concentrating on keeping calm despite the fact he could quite happily have kicked something there and then.

“I don’t know why I’m so shocked…” Fliss continued “I mean I always knew this would happen, but hearing that he’s finally got a date…” she looked at Frank “If he’s successful, then he could be out by the end of June and…”

“Ok…just because he’s been given the right to a hearing, doesn’t necessarily mean he’s going to get out.” “No, but…” she swallowed “The woman on the phone said that there’s a better chance that it will be refused if I appeal. But if I want to do that then I’ll have to either go in person or do a written or recorded statement and…I don’t know if I can…”

A tear fell from her eye and Frank gently wrapped her arms around her, pulling her to him.

“I stood in a courtroom last time, telling them exactly what he did to me…about how he beat me and degraded me…only to be told I that I was a liar, and that I liked it rough, that I egged him on and… I can’t….I can’t do that again Frank…”

She was rambling into his chest and he could do nothing but pull her close and drop a kiss to her head.

“No one’s gonna make you do anything you don’t wanna, ok?” he asked, pulling away slightly, cupping her face in her hands.

“They’re sending me a letter.” she said “Explaining my rights and stuff in more detail.” “Ok, well, how about I call Greg?” he asked, a sudden inspiration coming to him. “I know he’s a Family lawyer now but he did do some time with this type of thing a while back, if you’re happy to speak to him I’m sure he’ll be more than willing to help…”

“I don’t know if I can.” she said “I don’t know if want him knowing every detail, I mean even you don’t know it all…” “I know.” he agreed. “And you don’t have to tell him anything to start off with, just ask his advice. And when we get the letter, we’ll deal with it together ok?”

She sniffed gently, and looked at him. “I need to tell you don’t I?” she said softly, “All of it?”

Frank hesitated. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but if this was going the way it looked like it was going to go, he was going to find out sooner or later, and as he looked at Fliss he knew that no matter how hard it was, how shitty it was going to be to open up fully, she would need to do that herself to keep some control over the situation.

“Like I said.” he looked at her “You don’t need to do anything…but if you want, then I’ll listen.”

He dropped a kiss to her head and pulled her back to him, gently rocking her to-and-fro as he squinted out over the harbour. He had no idea how this was going to turn out, but he did know one thing, he’d fight with to his last damned breath to keep the woman he was holding in his arms, his girl, his Lissy safe.

@momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @marvelfansworld @cobalt-gear @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13 @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @navispalace @patzammit @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @djeniiscorner @ayamenimthiriel @coldmuffinbanditshoe @disneylovingal @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @southerngracela @goldenfightergir @kellymat @official-and-unstable-satan @icanfeelastormbrewing @pagesoflauren

#riding high #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #gifted #gifted fan fic

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funkymbtifiction · 5 years

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how to find enneagram fixes?

hi funky, thanks for your reply to the “hey here’s how I found it” ask! I’m the same infp anon here. so I’ve been trawling the blog for a while as to my enneagram fixes and I’m sure of the 6w5 part and partially sure of the 1 fix, but how do I determine my last heart fix (it could be anything and confirm the 1 fix (make sure it’s not 9)? thanks so much for all your resources so far, but maybe if you could please tell me how the fixes in this order relate to the 6 core and how to figure them out. (not asking for one size forcefits all answer ofc) (oh, and sorry for the long and rambling message the other time. :P)

What helped me was a variety of things, but it mostly came down to thinking about how I handled various things in my life as relates to the different centers of the Enneagram. You need to look for proof in your life of those centers.

Centers are as follows – head fixes deal with fear (how do you cope, what do you do?); image fixes deal with how you relate to other people (what do you want from them?); gut fixes are what you do with anger and what angers you.

It’s sometimes helpful to compare with others you know, but also to think about what people observe of you and have said about you in the past. What about you fits the stereotype for your type, or does not fit the stereotype?

IMAGE CENTERS:

I felt a pull toward 4, but after reading Enneagramer’s 4 and thinking about it, and my own interactions with 4s who are exactly like that, I realized I am not a 4, because my problems never defeat me. I never wear them as a badge of honor, and I am never so devastated by them that I can’t keep producing until I have dealt with those feelings. My 4 friend told me, “When you speak about the bad things that have happened to you, you downplay them / make no big deal out of them. I know they must have hurt you terribly at the time, but you have healed the wound and moved on in a way I can’t.”

My image fix was the toughest to figure out – turns out that is because it was 3; they become what they need to be, and focus on finishing things, because they are “goal-oriented.”

A couple of things helped me realize this – the comment a friend made once that I do nothing by half, it’s “as if you are getting paid to do your hobbies, because you have to be the best at them, and you work hard to ensure you ARE the best.” I also thought about the fact that people in real life are shocked that I identify as a 6. Why would that be? Because the confident persona I put on in front of them all doesn’t lend itself to projecting anxiety. 6 is blending into 3’s self-confidence and making me project confidence, even if I do not have it.

Then too, I am incredibly aware of what “others may think.” I am always thinking about presentation, about how this will be perceived, about what people may say. Once, when a girl attacked me on the internet, I backed off and thought, “She is going to make a fool of herself. I meanwhile will look like the powerful, sensible, reasonable, and in-control one, since I refuse to react in public.”

I am quite good at blending into an unnatural environment despite being a Fi. (I find it impossible to write anything I disagree with, but I find ways around it, so people think I am “one of them” without me lying about it.) I do not relate to any of the soc-first 3 chapters or profiles I read, because they are all too arrogant and care about social climbing techniques, which I don’t give a fig about – what I DO relate to is the tendency to put my self-worth into my writing; I am what I “produce.” What I “create.” If one of my beta readers finds a mistake, I am mortified. Because even my beta is supposed to think it’s 99% amazing! ;) And it’s damn near impossible for me to take two days off, or even an afternoon off, unless I’ve worked myself into exhaustion, without feeling like I am being a slacker. I NEED A PROJECT AT ALL TIMES. I have literally not gone for more than a week without working on a novel for over 17 years. Because in doing nothing, in producing nothing, I am nothing.

(I decided I am a 631 for obvious reasons; co-mod said my sp3 is so strong I could be a core 3, but I’ve always known I’m a 6. :P)

Comparison to people in my life with the other image fixes:

2s: care way less than I do about presentation, about looking the best, about having their stuff perfect, because to them, what they create is not reflective of their worth as a human being. They will extend themselves more to help people, and feel good about it, while I will do it out of duty and then gripe about it later.

4s: dwell in their negative feelings way more often and almost never want to solve their problem (which is problematic for me, since I’m here to fix you ;). What most shocked me once was when a 4 said they can’t create unless they are “in the mood.” I just kind of stared at them, like “What’s the mood got to do with it? You show up and write!” I believe diligence and daily working at it gets things done, which is how the 3 operates: it’s not about whether I “feel” like it today, I’m doing it!

Think about it. Which do you do? Which can you prove you do? Which have people commented on, that you do? If it’s 2, I expect you to have a list of times you selflessly helped others. With 3, I expect to see a list of accomplishments and things to show for your hard work. With 4, I expect to see an emphasis on being “in the mood” and needing it to have your own personal stamp on it for it to be good.

GUT CENTERS:

The evidence for my 1 fix is right in front of you. I lecture people all the livelong day about finding out their type and its weaknesses and blind spots SO YOU CAN ALL BECOME BETTER PEOPLE, AND GET ALONG BETTER. That is the 1. I see how you could improve yourselves, how the world can be a better place, with the 1’s idealistic zeal, because right now, IT IS IMPERFECT. This is why 1’s write de-cluttering books, and teach you how to get your finances in shape, and tell you to stop wasting your money, and teach the Enneagram, so you can all fix yourselves! Proof? I have been called judgmental more times than I can count. I’m not proud of it, sometimes I’m ashamed of it and wish I could be less hard on people, but sometimes what someone else is doing is WRONG and HURTING OTHER PEOPLE.

In comparison to the other fixes:

9s: are far less judgmental and want to get along way more. The only reason I don’t tell people off more often is my 6 is afraid of the fall-out and hates fights. That does not change the fact that my 1 wants to, and will on occasion, assert itself and point out what is wrong / inaccurate / imperfect / immoral / bad about whatever you just did. 9s are also less focused and more easily distracted than my 1 fix. I am tapping my foot impatiently and irritated with the 9 who is “always late” while they are happily going about their comfy morning routine.

8s: are far more inclined to blow up and not apologize for their anger or feel bad about it, unless someone they cared about got upset. 1s tend to sit on their anger, repress it, and try not to show it, because that represents a loss of control, and GOOD PEOPLE (what a 1 wants to be) only get angry over righteous causes. 8s do not care whether leaving a pop can in a parking lot and running over it for fun on their way out is littering or not. 8s do not think about the right / wrong about encouraging someone to lie on a warranty claim, since “it only expired 48 hours ago!” A 1 would never even ask; warranty’s expired. Too bad, but that’s the rules. Breaking the rules makes you “bad.”

Head types:

Not that you need to figure out your head type, but I’m forever being told that I need to “trust myself more,” “trust my gut more,” “go with my first hunch,” and “stop letting other people pollute my clear-headed thinking,” the bane of a 6 who is reliant on and swayed by others unless she’s careful (or in a stubborn mood that day; the plus side is, I’ll never become so arrogant that I won’t consider an opposing argument). The minute I read that 6s feel like they missed out when God was handing out an internal guidance system made me go “YES.” Why is it other people can just know what to do? And move forward confident, even arrogant, that they can do it? Can I get some of that, please?

In comparison to the other head types I know:

5s: are way more secretive, private, paranoid, and unrealistic in some ways, also far more argumentative and certain of being right. They are much less emotional and far more removed from their own feelings. They are more able to be objective, but also more rigid in their refusal to change their mind, because you are wrong and they are right.

7s: are far more flighty, irresponsible, and not inclined to see things through. 6’s show up and put in the long hours; 7s get bored after a week and skip on down the road. They are also more optimistic, funnier, and a ball to be around, but that comes with a dose of “I don’t want to talk about anything negative” and a lot of refusal to look at the bad side of life or admit to their mistakes.

Does that help? I hope so.

Also TAKE YOUR TIME. This is about internal reflection and is not a race.

- ENFP Mod

#question #enneagram #enneagram 1 #enneagram 2 #enneagram 3 #enneagram 4 #enneagram 5 #enneagram 6 #enneagram 7 #enneagram 8 #enneagram 9 #submission

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1dffsummerexchange · 7 years

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Play For Keeps

Written For: @what-comes-from-within

Written By: @harrysmeadow

Pairing: Harry/OFC

Word Count: 8,086

Warnings: Language

Summary:

When Harry and Tilly meet each other after Tilly's weekly music rehearsal, Harry knows he has to get to know her better. But when Harry takes the leap, has he gone too far or was it just the push Tilly needed?

3 till 4pm on Tuesday afternoons were Tilly Renford’s favourite time of the week, and the old Red Brick Music Room on campus was her favourite place to be.

After her last class of the day, which she was more than happy to get out of, she scurried across campus eagerly, almost tripping once or twice on the loose laces that were tucked into the sides of her shoes.

Struggling to sign her name on the door because of the mountain of folders she was carrying from previous classes, she was more than happy to drop them in the corner of the room when she finally entered. Taking her place on the piano bench, a familiar sense of relief flowed through her when her hands took place on the keys, she felt at home.

Although her allocated practice time was a mandatory part of her course, spending an hour in the music room each week never felt like a chore to Tilly. Music was her first and only love in life.

She tried with all her might to learn the sequence before her, concentrating hard, her bottom lip was pulled between her teeth, yet her fingers danced effortlessly across the instrument, creating a sweet and gentle melody that sounded nothing like the hard expression on her face.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, she noticed her time was nearly up, but Tilly felt good about the progress she’d made. Feeling confident she’d do well in the exam, she made a mark on the sheet as to where she had remembered the notes off by heart, and allowed herself the last ten minutes to play what she liked.

Since her parents had first bought her Piano lessons at the age of 8, she never felt pressured by them to reach a certain standard, and Tilly was thankful for that. They were never pushy or disappointed if she didn’t meet a grade; only encouraging to do her best. She loved to play, and her Mum had always told her the minute she didn’t love it anymore, she could stop. That was the reason she like to set aside time to just play for herself, rather than practice a set piece, she knew the moment she didn’t want to play for herself, was the moment she wouldn’t progress any further.

Leaning across the piano bench, Tilly shuffled through her bag reaching for her favourite sheet music. It was crumpled and torn, and had various ring shaped stains from the mugs of tea she’d placed on top of it over the years. To be honest, Tilly really didn’t need the music in front of her anymore, the songs she loved to play were so clearly etched in her mind she was sure she’d have to sustain a brain injury to forget the notes. But she found it comforting to have them in front of her. She smiled to herself as she looked at the scribbles she’d made as a 16 year old learning it for the first time, little prompts and tips and even small little drawings were scattered across the pages.

She propped the pages up on the stand and began to play, letting the music fill the room, she relaxed as the familiar notes soothed her and she began to sing along, washing away the tension she’d hadn’t realised had built up as she’d practiced for her exam.

*I’ve made up my mind, don’t need to think it over. If I’m wrong, I am right. Don’t need to look no further, this ain’t lust. I know this is love.*

****

Harry Styles had prepared himself to be bored while he waited for his allocated practice slot in the Red Brick Music Room on a Tuesday afternoon. Bringing along an array of coloured pens and highlighters with his notes, he’d planned to do ten or fifteen minutes or so of revision while he waited; but he found himself struggling to concentrate on his composition notes as he hummed along to the pretty sounds coming from the room.

*But if I tell the world, I’ll never say enough, cause it was not said to you. And that’s exactly what I need to do. If I end up with you.*

He tapped his pen against his leg in time with the melody that was flowing out from under the door, as he scanned the pages in front him, willing himself to learn the things he needed to know. The melody must have must have stopped at some point though, and Harry had slipped back into his studying until a voice caught him off guard, and the yellow highlighter slipped off the end of the page and onto his jeans.

“Oh I’m so sorry, did I overrun into your time?” a slightly panicked voice questioned.

He looked up to the doorway where the beautiful sounds had come from earlier, and a found a wide eyed girl holding the door open for him with her entire body weight, clutching tightly to an array of books and folders.

She was petite, and had short brown hair that fell in uneven waves just past her ears to her chin. The knitted green jumper that was haphazardly tucked into only one side of her denim skirt was falling off her shoulder, and she raced to pull it back into place without dropping the mountain of work in her arms. A pair of tortoise shell reading glasses were slightly askew on top of her head, and Harry noticed that rather than tying the laces of her tattered white converse she had simply tucked them down the side. She seemed uneven, kinda wonky (and that wasn’t just the way she was leant against the door), imperfect even, she had a presence, a kind of aura that Harry found himself drawn to.

Harry sprang up from where he was perched on the bench opposite the door. “No! Not at all, I just got here early!” He said with a smile, hoping to ease her worry. He didn't like feeling as though he'd been part of the reason she felt that way.

“Oh ok. If I ever do run over though, don’t hesitate to kick me out. I find it quite easy to lose track of time when I’m playing.” She chuckled, more to herself Harry thought, as he gathered his things up.

He smiled to himself as he imagined this girl getting so lost in the music she was creating and playing, she ended up in a world of her own. He didn’t think he ever would kick her out though, Harry thought he could have sat for hours listening to the melodies he’d heard her play.

“I presume that was you playing just then?” He asked, finally reaching for the door, allowing her to take her weight off and she stepped past him, her shoulder brushing against his arm when she turned round to face him again.

She was close enough now that Harry could really see her. He liked the way the little bump on her nose was covered in freckles, that then went their separate ways to create little dotted patterns on her cheeks. Her brown eyes were swimming, sparkling like she was thinking of a thousand things at once, but Harry had no doubt she was giving him her full attention.

“Mmhm.” The girl nodded, shuffling the folders in her arms so she could use a free hand to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Harry couldn’t help but smile again as he watched her dainty fingers run through the strands. He was in awe of how such delicate things could create such bellowing, yet amazing sounds.

“Well it was amazing, I’ve always loved the piano and you’re very talented.” He praised, and Harry considered himself lucky when he saw a small blush rise to her cheeks at his compliment, it was then he decided next week he’d arrive early again.

****

Over the next few weeks Tilly saw the curly haired boy who liked to chat, outside the Red Brick Music Room every time she finished her session. She was pretty sure the allocation times hadn’t been changed, and she wondered why he was making so many appearances when she was sure she hadn’t seem him at all during first term.

She didn’t mind though, not one bit. In fact, Tilly had developed what her flatmate Martha had described as ‘a school girl crush’ on the boy with emerald green eyes, when she didn’t stop talking about him for a solid twenty minutes the other day while they were meant to be catching up on the new episode of Criminal Minds.

It was harmless though, Tilly thought, she liked having something (someone) to daydream about, and she’d found quite quickly that the curly haired boy, with green eyes also had dimples. And well, could you really blame her?

Tilly checked the clock more often in her piano sessions now, and she often had internal battles with herself to make sure she stayed in the room for the full hour, even though she so desperately wanted to leave five minutes early to spend more time with Green Eyes. But, she also knew that practice made perfect, and she really wanted to get a good mark on her exam. So, every week she played her piece over and over, committing the sequence to memory until her fingers looked as if they moved of their own accord and they were made to create that music.

But true to her word, Tilly always saved time for herself to play what she wanted, and once again her fingertips played the song she loved to hear, and the happiness she felt flowed through her veins. The smile that graced her lips could be heard in the lyrics she sang, giving the normally sombre song a twist that Tilly loved.

*Should I give up, or should I just keep chasing pavements? Even if it leads nowhere? Or would it be a waste? Even if I knew my place, should I leave it there?*

Tilly was always smiling when she entered or left the Red Brick Music Room, but usually the high she felt from the music, faded pretty quickly when she walked back to her flat. But recently she found her good mood would stick around a bit longer.

Stepping out of the room at her normal time, her grin only widened when she saw Green Eyes leant against the wall, closer to the door than he usually was.

“Hi!” Tilly greeted the boy whose eyes had been locked on the door from the moment she opened it.

“Hey!” He returned with a smile just as wide, pushing himself off the wall to stand in front of her. “You played great today, again.” he said.

“Thanks!” Tilly replied cheerily, but she couldn’t help but feel like there was something important missing off of the end of her sentence. Like a name.

Tilly was British in every sense of the word. Meaning, she drank at least 4 cups of tea a day, was prone to saying sorry for things she didn’t do, and got severely angry when someone jumped the queue. It also meant that if you missed the opportunity to get someone’s name at the first meeting, you’d be stuck making small talk with said other person that never progressed any further, because you can’t get to know more about someone when you don’t know their name.

Tilly had realised after their second run in that she hadn’t asked Green Eyes what his name was, and they’d definitely passed the point where it would be extremely awkward to ask for it now, so Tilly was trying to come to terms with the fact that the most she’d ever get out of him was a comment on the weather.

“Are you playing the Open Mic Night on Saturday?” He asked, raising his eyebrows slightly, but his eyes never left her face, eagerly awaiting her response.

Tilly liked the attention he paid her when they talked. She’d always felt like a bit of a ‘plain Jane’ and never really got noticed by boys, but the way that Green Eyes looked as though he cherished every word she said, like he was going to carve them in stone and worship them every day, was a feeling Tilly liked.

“I didn’t know there was one, so no.” She giggled, trying not to get too excited over the thought that Green Eyes might be trying to initiate something between them.

“Oh, well it’s at The Red Dragon, I don’t know if you have him, but Professor Anderson goes to them, and he counts the performances as extra credit for his modules.” he stated.

Tilly felt let down, like a birthday balloon she’d been filled up with excitement before the party, but started to deflate before the main event. It wasn’t an invite, just more small talk. She was annoyed that she’d even allowed herself to entertain the thought that he would ask her to do something, they weren’t friends she thought. She didn’t even know his name.

“That’s good to know, thanks.” she said, visibly less enthusiastic than before. “Well, have a good session.” She added, offering him a small smile before stepping out of the door and away, not waiting for his reply.

Walking out of the Red Brick Music Room the crisp spring breeze whipped around Tilly’s ankles, causing goosebumps to arise on her exposed skin. Much like the wind, the thoughts running through Tilly's brain were twisting and turning. She could feel a headache coming on.

Tilly did have Professor Anderson for two modules, so it would make sense to go, right? Plus, she didn't want to appear rude to Green Eyes, he was trying to help her. But Tilly had never performed in front of an audience before, and she could feel the nerves bubbling in her tummy at even just the thought of it. She began to wonder if she made an appearance whether it would be odd if she just went to watch, rather than perform like Green Eyes had suggested. She had three days to decide.

****

Harry swore the room was buzzing in the moments after he stepped into the practice room that afternoon. Like the energy that came from the sounds the small girl with the short hair had created was still swirling around the room.

He’d been coming over to the Red Brick Music Room early for four weeks now, just to make sure he got to hear her play, and to have a little chat when she emerged.

Harry wasn't afraid to admit that he was smitten with the dainty girl that always seemed to wear her clothes one size too big, and who always smiled bashfully to floor with red cheeks every time he paid her a compliment.

She was cute Harry thought, and he kicked himself every time he let her pass without getting her name. He always went with the intention to learn it, but every time she stepped out of that room it was as though all rational thoughts disappeared from his mind. To Harry she was like some kind of mystical creature, who only appeared on Tuesdays between 4 and 4.05pm. She was a rare sight, one of a kind, with her wide eyes and freckled cheeks. Harry felt lucky whenever he saw her.

But he had gone with a mission this week to invite her to the open mic, and he was happy he'd achieved what he had set out to do.

The past week, Harry's flat mate Niall had had enough of Harry's constant whining about the girl from the music room with no name.

“Just bloody ask her!” He cried one night while they were meant to be watching the England game, but Harry had spent the last half an hour listing the pros and cons of what could happen between him and the Piano Girl if he never learnt her name at all.

“I’ve tried!” Harry exclaimed.

“No you haven't! Because if you had, you'd know it!” Niall retaliated, on the way to becoming completely exasperated with the whole topic.

“Look Harry.” Niall continued, turning to face him where he had slumped down on the sofa grumbling to himself. “If you want to actually get to know her, you're gonna have to see her outside of that fucking corridor.”

So in the following days Harry had spent his time going back and forth with ideas of what he could ask Piano Girl to do in an attempt to get to know her better. So far they’d only ever spoken about music and what course they were each doing, and Harry had found himself wondering at times thing like; why she never actually tied her laces, or if she had a pet, and why she always played that same song every week.

He knew his options were limited, he didn’t want to come across as too forward, because he didn’t really know the girl. A one on one date at a fancy restaurant was out of the question, it would be like a backwards blind date he thought, where he knew what she looked like, but didn’t know her name. A little meet up at the little independent coffee shop just off campus was also a no, there would be too many opportunities for awkward silences he thought, plus he didn’t even know if she liked coffee. It had to be somewhere casual, with other people, but also somewhere chilled enough where he could ask her all these questions without her feeling uncomfortable.

It was Friday afternoon when the open mic idea had been sprung upon him. Harry was in his last lecture of the week, Professor Anderson’s ‘18th Century European Music’ module, and it was safe to say he had zoned out about 10 minutes into the topic of how the Lute had revolutionised music between the Medieval and Renaissance periods, and he’d been watching the clock ever since.

It was the scraping of chair legs against the floor, and sudden bustle of movement around him that drew Harry out of his daze. The booming voice of Professor Anderson above the racket of students rushing to get home for the weekend was what caught his attention next.

“Don’t forget ladies and gentlemen that the extra credit open mic night is next Saturday, meaning you have a week to get yourselves sorted! I hope to see a lot of you there!”

Although his announcement mainly fell on deaf ears as the stampede of students rushing to the door didn’t slow, Harry felt as though a light bulb had gone off. It was perfect he thought. It wouldn’t be just them, there would be other students, probably people she knew, and it was based around music, something he knew they had in common.

Even though she hadn’t actually said yes (or no for that matter) Harry was quietly confident that she would show up on Saturday, maybe even perform. He often found himself wondering what she looked like when she played when he was sat outside the room, listening to the pretty sounds escaping out from under the door.

Still smiling to himself as he got his own instruments and music sorted for his practice hour, Harry spotted something out of the corner of his eye. There on the floor, just by the piano stool, were two pieces of ratty paper, slightly ripped and torn at the edges. As he moved closer he saw that it was sheet music, probably left by another student he thought. Picking it up he placed it on top of the piano, hoping whoever it belonged to would find it there when they came looking. Just as he was about to set the papers down he noticed the piece title at the top.

Chasing Pavements by Adele

Harry had known the tune to Chasing Pavements, just as well as any other person might have a few weeks ago. But now he knew it off by heart. The lyrics and melodies were ones he found himself humming along to quite a lot recently, as he strolled from one class to another or when he was in the shower. Every week that he’d spent waiting outside the practice room, those notes had flown out from under the door. The song played and sang with such emotion he was always fully captured by the beautiful sounds. He had no doubt who those papers belonged to.

Turning the papers over in his hands, he inspected the marks and wears. With delicate fingers he traced over the darker lines, and Harry could see just how much this music had been played just from looking at it. He smiled as he took in the little doodles and scribbles scattered across the pages, but it broke into a full grin when he spotted a slightly faded mark in top right corner that revealed to him everything he wanted to know.

Harry knew this was his chance. He had waited and been patient, not wanting to push his luck with the pretty girl who was so musically gifted, and the universe had repaid him. His golden ticket had been presented to him at exactly the right moment.

Forgetting his own work that he should have been attempting to complete and practice, Harry grabbed a stand from the cupboard and placed the worn pieces of paper upon them. He picked up his guitar and began to strum according to the music in front of him. After changing the notes to fit with his own instrument, Harry spent his remaining time practicing the adjusted notes and committing them to memory.

He knew exactly what song he would play on Saturday, and he would play it for Tilly.

****

“I can’t believe he’s finally asked you out!” Martha gushed, when Tilly arrived home from practice that afternoon and told her friend what Green Eyes had said.

Tilly would liked to have been able to say that she’d um-ed and ah-ed over Green Eye’s suggestion for her to attend the open mic night, but it had taken her all of ten minutes after leaving the practice room to decide it might not be such a bad idea after all.

She had managed to convince herself on the walk home that she wasn’t attending because it was Green Eyes who asked her, but because it would be good for her grades. If someone else had told her about it, she would still go.

So she rolled her eyes at Martha’s exclamation, and wandered over to the kettle to make herself a cup of tea. “He didn’t ask me out. He just mentioned that it was happening.” Tilly replied with a shrug. She couldn’t afford to be influenced by her flatmates enthusiasm, it would only make her think things were different. Tilly knew she had to be careful about this and remind herself that he hadn’t actually invited her, she couldn’t let her grades be affected because she had a crush.

“Oh please.” Martha scoffed, a smug smile playing on her lips as she placed her own mug down beside the kettle, silently asking for a drink as well. “You’re being too hard on yourself! He wants to see you away from that god forsaken corridor!”

“Martha!” Tilly cried in frustration, the boiling kettle clicked off and the steam that swirled around the air helped to disguise the reddening of her cheeks. “It’s not a big deal. He didn’t ask me. I’m only going for my grade, and even then I don’t know if I’m even gonna get up there, I’ve never performed in front of an audience before.” She sighed, fishing the tea bags from the mugs and placing them on the breakfast bar in front of where Martha had taken a seat.

Tilly’s ‘play for yourself’ mantra had always been an important part of why she continued to play. The degree she was studying for didn’t have a compulsory performance module, it focused on the history of different types of music and the creation and production side of things. She never liked the idea of focusing the thing she loved doing, on the reaction of other people to it.

She wouldn’t say she was shy either, only that the thought of hundreds of pairs of eyes on her set a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Maybe she would just go to observe this time around, then if her grade needed pulling up later in the year she could perform at another.

“Well.” Martha began, taking a small sip of tea before continuing. “You’ve got a few days to decide, but there’s no harm done either way, right?”

****

The sun was shining bright on Saturday afternoon, and Tilly felt glad she’d decided not to put on tights underneath her denim skirt when she got dressed that morning. She was sat in The Red Dragon beer garden, her legs stretched out in front of her, hoping to catch some kind of colour after the dreary English winter had left her as pale as vanilla soap.

The open-mic wasn’t due to start for another hour yet, but Tilly thought it best she down some liquid courage in case she ran into Green Eyes beforehand. Martha, who was sat beside Tilly nursing her own beverage, had tagged along mainly in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the boy Tilly couldn’t keep quiet about, but also for moral support.

The crowd began to grow as it got nearer the time and when Tilly had stepped back inside for a refill she spotted Professor Anderson perched at the end of the bar, a prime viewing spot for the stage that was being set up.

She tried to shuffle away further down the bar, hoping to not catch his attention. She always found it odd seeing teachers outside of the classroom, it was always awkward and she never knew what to say without it getting personal. She’d once bumped into her secondary school biology teacher in M&S and had foolishly asked; “Are you here with your wife?”, when he coolly replied, “Tilly, I’m gay.” She vowed never to speak to teachers outside of a learning environment again.

Unfortunately she wasn’t given much choice in this situation.

“Miss Renford!” Professor Anderson called, just as she attempted to slyly sneak away. She took a tighter hold of her drink, and plastered a fake grin across her face as she turned back round to greet him. “I didn’t expect to see you here, are you performing?” He asked with genuine intrigue.

“Oh no!” She replied frantically, hoping he wouldn’t ask her to perform anyway. “Just supporting a friend.”

“Who?”

Your guess is as good as mine she thought.

“Oh, errrm, it’s….he -” Tilly stuttered. “I don’t think you know him.” She tried. His brows furrowed in confusion at her ramblings. “Will you excuse me?” She squeaked, scurrying off to find Martha before he had the chance to reply.

She spotted Martha’s long blonde hair cascading down her back from the door that led to the beer garden, she hadn’t moved from her shady spot at the table underneath the parasol. When Tilly reached her she immediately grabbed for the hand that wasn’t scrolling through her phone, pulling her up out of her seat.

“What’s the matter!?” She exclaimed. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” Her eyes suddenly widened with excitement. “Was it Green Eyes!? Where is he!? I wanna-”

“Will you be quiet?” Tilly interjected, both pleading and joking tones hinting at her voice. Still dragging Martha behind her, she made her way back inside, (expertly avoiding Professor Anderson) and towards a free table she’d spotted while she was at the bar.

Attempting to whisper in the packed out pub was a fool's errand, so Tilly explained her teacher/student run-in to her friend with the hopes he didn’t overhear.

Suddenly, while Martha was still sniggering away at Tilly’s expense the lights dimmed in the pub and the chatter that had been soaring around them, fell to a low hum. A short boy, with dark brown hair, dressed in a simple jeans and a checked shirt made his presence known on the stage by tapping the microphone. The booming sound bounced around the room, but all eyes were still on the boy who had now picked up a guitar from the stand at the side of the stage.

“Hi, I’m Toby Sherman. I’m in Professor Anderson’s second year Music History module, I’m gonna play you a song.” He looked down to where his trembling fingers were perched, ready to play, but before he began he looked back up to the audience with a smile. “Also, please clap at the end ‘cos I’ll get a better grade. Cheers.”

Everyone laughed at the performers joke, and as he strummed the first notes, the energy soon filtered down though to match the emotions of the song.

“That’s not him is it?” Martha asked, nudging Tilly with her elbow slightly and nodding towards the boy on stage.

“No.” Tilly replied. “You’ll know when you see him.” She said confidently, letting a small smile play on her lips when Martha rolled her eyes.

For the next half an hour or so, students from nearly all of Professor Anderson’s modules appeared on stage hoping to boost their grade, showing off a fantastic array of musical talent.

The effects of the alcohol Tilly had been sipping that afternoon were slowly but surely fading, and she hadn’t even seen Green Eyes yet. She began to doubt herself, a feeling of disappointment starting to build within her. She’d spent nearly all week convincing herself she wasn’t attending just for him, but the uneasy anticipation was building with every moment he didn’t show.

She let her eyes wander around the room, Professor Anderson was sat taking notes, still at the bar, Tilly recognised other faces from some of her classes, she caught their eye and they smiled in return. Finally giving up with her pathetic search for the boy who’d been clouding her mind for weeks, she returned her attention to what remained of her drink in her glass on the table.

Tilly poked around the ice with her straw, a small pout forming on her lips as she let her mind run away with ideas that Green Eyes might have set her up.

“Oh. My. God.” Martha gawped beside her, pulling Tilly away from her negative thoughts. She was looking up at the stage where the next performer was about to begin, Tilly followed her gaze curiously, wondering what could have captured Martha’s attention.

She saw the curls first, laying gracefully over his shoulders just about hiding the shadow cast from his strong jaw, and that alone confirmed to her it was him. He was wearing a striped shirt, the sleeves rolled to near his elbows showing off the tattoos scattered across his skin, and it was unbuttoned a fair way down his chest revealing to Tilly and the rest of the audience a hint of more black ink. The skinny jeans he always wore were pulled over pointed black boots that looked as though they’d had a fresh polish.

Her eyes trailed up to his face, and they snapped to his like magnets. His stare was intense but not overwhelming, like a lit fire in the winter time she found his presence comforting, all the sour feelings exiting her body when a small smile appeared on his lips. Suddenly, Tilly was sure the rambling in the room was becoming duller, as if everyone was becoming mesmerised by the eyes she was captured in too.

His head finally ducked, and Tilly swore she could see a twinge of pink settling on his cheeks underneath the glaring stage lights. It was Martha nudging her side which made her own eyes fall away.

“Think I found him.” She teased. And Tilly had to bite her bottom lip in an attempt to stop her smile growing wider.

****

The steps up to the stage were steep and dimly lit by the glow that was radiating from the big lights behind him. She was the first person his eyes picked out in the crowd when he reached the mic, and suddenly the nerves he was feeling became weaker, a boost of confidence shooting through him like he’d taken a shot of it at the bar.

He couldn’t hide the happiness he felt because she was there, and he could feel his cheeks heating under her gaze. The crumpled piece of paper he’d found earlier that week was folded safely in his pocket, but it felt like it was burning through the fabric. The past week had been spent with Harry trying not to get his hopes up about her attendance. Doubtful thoughts raced through his mind every time he picked up his guitar to practice. She’d seemed so cold when he’d last seen her in the corridor. He wondered what changed her mind.

He took one last moment to really see her. A smile broke across his features when he noticed the tiny little bun she’d pulled half of her short wavy hair back into, her legs were crossed and swinging back and forth; she had on a faded pair of Birkenstocks, and Harry wondered how many times they’d fallen of her feet as they moved back and forth.

He looked down quickly and with deep, calming breaths he prepared himself for his performance. Harry knew if he was going to get a good grade for this he’d have to perform like he usually did, with all the stage presence and talent he knew he had, completely drawing the audience into the song, but Harry also knew he had an introduction to make.

“Hi, I’m Harry.” He spoke into the mic, while finding her eyes again. “Every week I’m lucky enough to hear the most beautiful rendition of this song, so I’m gonna give it a try myself. This is for you, Tilly.” Her wide eyes looked back at him, full of wonder and surprise, Harry knew if he didn’t look away now he’d get lost in them forever.

With careful, practised fingers he began to play. The music flowing effortlessly like a gentle woodland stream in spring, and his voice the perfect partner, as gentle as a soft breeze that sways the new leaves on the trees.

It’s over before he knows it, and the sudden eruption of applause jolts him out of the trance he’d been lost in. Every time he blinked during the performance he saw her words and notes scribbled behind his eyes, like the moment he lost sight of her in the room she was still there spurring him on.

Harry mumbled his thanks into the mic, before quickly shuffling off the stage. He needed to find her.

Pushing his way through the crowd he only smiled in response to those who gave him praise. He didn’t have time to stop. Not when he knew she was here. His heart was beating faster and faster in his chest the closer he got, with darting feet and quick movements he zoomed through the sea of students.

Harry came to a sudden stop when he reached the booths at the back just past the bar. His eyes ran up and down the back wall looking for her. He searched for the cute little half bun and the pastel pink shirt with cartoon ice creams on it, even looked out for a pair of crossed legs swinging out from underneath a chair. But there was nothing. She was gone.

****

A knock on the practise room door on Tuesday afternoon, for some reason didn’t come as a surprise to Tilly. She’d been expecting to see Harry at some point, and she knew it wouldn’t be the usual five minute convo in the corridor. She muttered a small “come in” to him on the other side, before taking a deep breath in the hopes it would help calm her steadily increasing nerves.

He entered with his head down and shoulders slumped, and he looked to Tilly somewhat like a kicked puppy. His thick curls fell in soft ringlets down the side of his face, as if like a shield that would protect him from any harsh words she had to say. His lips seemed more pink, slightly chapped and dry like he’d been picking and biting at them with nerves. The soft click of door behind him made her breath hitch, as it suddenly dawned on her this was the first moment they’d truly been alone.

“I’m really sorry if I crossed a line. I didn’t mean to upset you at all, I realise now it was probably too personal. I just came to give you these back.” He reached round to his back pocket, and swiftly removed whatever it was. In an outstretched hand, not quite fully extending all the way, Tilly recognised her favourite notes at once, even more folded and crumpled than they were before. She hadn’t even noticed they were missing.

She reached out for them, tugging lightly as his fingers loosened as soon as they felt a pull. Opening the papers for confirmation that they were indeed her Adele notes, she smiled when she spotted a few extra notes and scribbles on the sheets.

“I didn’t steal them by the way!” He said suddenly, causing Tilly to pull her eyes away from the new markings. “You left them here last week, so I just kind of borrowed them without asking. I actually went off of them when I performed.”

Although the paper was old and worn, with the addition of Harry’s scribbles it looked like it had been given a new lease of life. The original printed notes were faded and grey, and the marks Tilly had written as a teenager were smudged and pretty much unreadable, but the fresh black ink on the page in adorably curly cursive looked like it belonged there.

“It was really lovely, Harry.” Tilly admitted, she had been in complete and utter awe of him when he was on the stage. His voice was smooth as silk, like a soft sheet it wrapped around everyone in the room, encasing them in comfort. He was a natural performer, no-one could take their eyes off of him. He wasn’t dancing or moving around, but the emotion he was obviously feeling was like a buzz of electricity round the room.

“Thanks. I’ll go back outside now, I just wanted to give you these incase you needed them. Not that I think you need the practise, you always sound amazing. You have a great voice.” He rambled.

“You can hear me sing!?” She cried, eyes widening in horror.

“Yeah, I tell you every week how great you sound.” Harry said, confused how she’d not picked up on his glaringly obvious compliments.

“I thought you just meant the piano. Oh my god. No one has ever heard me sing. I don’t sing!” She cried, growing more flustered.

“You sound beautiful when you sing.” Harry countered simply.

Her heart lurched in her chest, like it was pulling her towards him. For weeks she’d felt like they were on opposite ends of a string, never knowing anything new, never getting closer. But since the performance she felt it pulling and coiling, wrapping tighter around her. She wondered if Harry felt it too and they were about to meet in the middle.

“You can stay in here if you like. You don’t have to go back in the corridor.” She offered with a small smile after she’d calmed down.

Tilly watched as he took tentative steps towards the corner of the room, away from the door without saying a word. He seemed shy and timid, nothing like the performance he’d put on on Saturday. Tilly wondered if they were more similar than she originally thought. She’s been so caught up in his eyes and his kind words, that she wondered when she looked to floor flustered at his compliments if she missed the pink on his cheeks too.

She took her own seat at the piano, her fingers automatically moving to the keys, playing a simple melody to warm up. She spied Harry out of the corner of her eye, looking for any sign that he might regret staying, but he seemed content with the background noise she was providing as she spotted his feet gently tapping the floor in time with the rhythm.

Tilly continued playing her usual melodies, warming herself up and getting used to the instrument again after a week of not playing. Between pieces she’d chance a glance over at Harry, who was still sat contentedly completing some of his own work, but just as she was about to turn round and start her final one, he looked up too, catching her eyes.

It was things like the unbroken eye contact that had fooled Tilly into think he was more confident than he was, but she liked the way she could look into his eyes, fully knowing he was doing the same to her.

“Why did you leave?” He asked quietly.

Tilly immediately knew what he meant, and the guilt that had been edging at her from the moment her shoes touched the pavement outside The Red Dragon on Saturday, suddenly crashed like a wave during high tide. Now she knew why he was looking into her eyes so intensely, he was searching for signs of a lie.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, looking down to her lap.

Her eyes fluttered up to him, she didn’t say a word, only hoped he could see her regret, because she was sorry. In the seconds after Harry played the final notes of his set she was sure she had tears in her eyes, and Martha wasn’t far off crying either. But the surprise she’d been hit with when he first appeared, which had turned to pure joy when he opened his mouth to sing, suddenly fizzled out, and a spark of fear ignited within her when she watched him begin the path towards her when he left the stage.

Without really thinking she tugged on Martha’s hand and escaped through the back exit by the beer garden. The image of Harry’s beautiful green eyes searching for her as he pushed through the crowd had been etched on her brain ever since.

Even from across the room Harry could see the sadness in her eyes, and it was shattering his heart piece by piece to think he might have had something to do with it. She seemed lost in her thoughts, and didn’t notice when he got up and moved towards her. Taking a place on the end of the piano bench, he spotted the notes he’d become so familiar with on the stand. Reaching past her, he gently pulled the papers to the front and then settled his hands against the keys.

The shifting and shuffling beside her was what finally pulled Tilly from her thoughts. She looked up just as Harry pressed down on the keys, attempting to play the song he’d already performed, just on a different instrument. However, it only took a matter of seconds for Tilly to realise Harry had evidently never played the piano before. She didn’t stop him though. Only smiled as she watched his tongue poke out from between his rosy lips concentrating on a particularly hard combination. His eyes would squint as he looked between the paper and the keys, trying desperately to follow the notes correctly, but when a wrong key was hit and the off tune sound bounced off the walls, his brows would raise so high in surprise Tilly thought they were going to disappear.

Tilly had thought the seed of hope that Harry had planted when he said her name on the stage days before, had wilted and rotted when she left without seeing him; never giving it a chance to grow. But now, with every wrong note played and small cheer of elation when something went right, Tilly could feel the roots of hope and happiness beginning to spread, getting ready to fully bloom.

Although she admired his concentration and perseverance, the out of time and off tune notes meant her own fingers were itching to push him away and play it herself. As much as he tried he didn’t seem to be getting much better, and after what must have been the tenth attempt at one particular set of notes, Tilly could no longer hold in the giggle that had been resting in her throat.

“What happened!? You did so well on Saturday too!” She teased, sliding along the bench closer to him, stopping when their arms touched.

She giggled again when she took in the expression on his face. His jaw dropped open as if he was offended, but she could see the dimple on his cheek starting to form, so she didn’t feel bad laughing at his feeble attempt.

With a sudden burst of confidence Tilly reached out for his hands that were resting against the keys, and took them in her own. Pressing against his fingers in the way they should have moved if he was following the notes correctly. It didn’t sound great, a few wonky notes being hit every so often as their intertwined fingers slipped away, but the accompanying laugh from Harry still sounded like music to Tilly.

Her short hair had fallen from behind her ears, but even through the curtain of waves she could feel his eyes on her when they came to the end. His hands pulled away first, reaching out to push back the hair that hid her from him. A full smile stretched across her features, the freckles on her cheeks seeming to come to life, like stars in the night sky. Harry knew if he could make a wish what he would ask for.

And while Harry saw the stars on her cheeks, Tilly saw the world in his eyes. So bright, and green, and true, she knew they held the answers to questions she hadn’t asked yet, that in times of darkness they’d be the only light she needed. That the green colour that had been etched on her mind, was the same colour green as the leaves that grew from the seed of hope he’d planted within her.

When he leaned towards her, his hand still delicately holding the side of her face, Tilly thought that perhaps the flowers that were sure to bloom from that seed, would be the same shade of pink as his lips.

The kiss was soft and gentle, like the way they had always been with each other, neither one brave enough to push too far, but still a sense of wanting more. Her captured lips were sweet like the pastry she’d snacked on earlier, and their mouths melted together like the icing that had been drizzled on top. Her hands found resting place on his chest, the warmth seeping through her fingertips and into her veins, encasing her in a feeling she’d never known before.

As they pulled apart his thumb grazed lightly over her freckled cheek, as if mapping out the stars, creating constellations he’d look for again and again. She watched as his eyes searched over her skin, and she took advantage of his slightly dazed state to drop a last peck to his lips.

“I think I should stick to the piano, and you should stick with singing.” She mused, nudging him further up the bench with her hip. Her hands automatically found their place on the keys, and the tune that was now so familiar to them both, began to flow between them.

He smiled down to her, completely overwhelmed and in awe, as the dainty fingers that had rested on his chest moments ago danced across the instrument so gracefully.

“What d’ya think?” She asked with a smile, just before the chorus hit.

Harry sang, and Tilly played. In perfect harmony the song was performed like never before, but in such a way that they both knew it was something special.

When the final notes faded out and Harry placed his lips to her hers once more, he knew next week, and the weeks after that, that he’d be arriving at the Red Brick Music Room even earlier again.

#1dff #harry styles #1dff summer fic exchange 2017

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jishua-moved · 8 years

Text

Light Me Up | Chapter 2

Pairing: Vernon x OFC featuring S.Coups & Jeonghan

Genre: angst, fluff, humor

Word Count: 4539

[ Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 ] + Moodboard

Summary: Just as the moon had her scars and imperfections, so did she. And he loved every bit of it. To him, she was the moon that shone brightest in these rare moments. The moon who’s light had been dimmed. To her, he was the sun that would eventually, light her up in every way. Only she hadn’t accepted it yet. She hadn’t yet accepted the light slowly growing inside her chest, but it wouldn’t be long until she did.

“If you can love the wrong one so much, just imagine how much you can love the right one.”

A/N: I don’t even know how to start this note lol. It has been too long since I posted chapter 1 and I apologize greatly for not posting this sooner. I had the worst writer’s block! I would like to thank my lovely secret admirer Vernon anon for giving me that little spark of inspiration that I needed. A huge, enormous thank you to my @kaviea ! You are the best! This would be nothing without your help. Thank you! Once again, forgive me for not posting sooner, so here’s basically a double chapter for y’all. I hope you enjoy!

By the time she got up to her apartment the morning light had already crept into her living room. The light shone through her window, making her realize she’d forgotten to pull down her blinds.

She kicked off her boots and hung her coat by the door, making her way into the bathroom. A warm shower was exactly what she needed right now.

Her makeup needed to be washed off first. Applying makeup was something she’d do every weekend, and sometimes she really hated the trouble that went with it. She mostly hated having to look into the mirror in order to remove it and seeing a bleary-eyed reflection of herself. She was tired of washing off the same unyielding eyeshadow and mascara over and over again. Although taking the makeup off was a pain, it wasn’t as hard as applying it, and it was worth it, as the makeup did make her feel prettier. But it was still something that she’d rather not do routinely.

Eventually, she got out of the shower, put on her PJs and walked over to the window to roll down her blinds. Taking a look outside, she saw Vernon. He still sat at the bus stop, wearing his red cap and rubbing his bare hands together frantically.

She opened the window and called out to him, “Hey! What are you still doing there? The bus should’ve come and gone a while ago.”

He looked around, shrugged and was about to reply when she noticed how he was shivering. Decided, she beckoned a couple of times for him to get up and told him to make his way across the road.

“Apartment 3A.”

He stopped warming his hands together and went completely still. “What?”

“Get up here,” she added before closing the window and pulling down the blinds. She never considered that he might not come up into the apartment of an older woman who he had just met.

He hesitated for a bit, surprised by the fact that she had popped her head out of a window and invited him up to her apartment like that. As cold as it was, though, he eventually got off the bench and crossed the road.

She scanned her living room, making sure it looked presentable, but her eyes, in their mad dash around the room, crashed to stop on her coffee table.

It was a mess of bills for the club, so she kneeled down and frantically started gathering them up.

“Shit!” she hissed, jerking her hand away. Of course, she’d managed to get a paper cut now of all times. The doorbell rang and she quickly shoved the papers into the first drawer she saw, closed it hastily, and made her way to the door.

When she unlocked the door, both of them unconsciously ran their eyes over each other from top to bottom.

He stood in the doorway, his hands shoved into the pockets of his bomber jacket. She noticed how his nose and ears were slightly pink from the cold. The cap wasn’t doing a good job of keeping him warm, and neither was the jacket.

He, on the other hand, noticed her completely different outfit. It never occurred to him to picture her wearing something other than her chic black dress. He was pleasantly surprised that she owned anything as comfy-looking as those PJs, but now that he had seen her in them, it somehow fit. It pleasantly surprised him and he couldn’t help but smile. Was this what she was really like beneath her controlled professional appearance? He found that he desperately wanted to know.

His smile grew even more when she tucked that same lock of hair behind her ear. Only now, her hair wasn’t in a neat ponytail, but in a messy bun. Her locks were dripping with water and her face was bare.

“You coming in?” she asked, as she pushed that stubborn lock of hair behind her ear yet again.

He nodded a couple of times and shuffled into her apartment, mumbling an apology.

“Were you a dollar short again?” she teased. “Or did the bus not come at all?”

He ran his fingers through his brown hair and admitted with a sheepish grin, “Both.”

His grin softened something in her expression, and she chuckled quietly. He felt a little strange, standing in her living room like that, not knowing where to go, but strangely feeling like he very much wanted to belong there, until she pointed to the couch.

“You can sit down there. Just take your shoes off here,” she said. “You can stay until Coups answers his phone if you like. You look like you could use some sleep and the bus certainly doesn’t look like it’s coming anytime soon.”

“That’d be nice, thanks, but I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome. The bus ought to be along any minute now,” he replied.

She didn’t mind him staying. It was just a gesture of kindness in her mind. She wouldn’t be able to sleep if she thought he was freezing to death outside waiting for a bus that was never coming.

“Don’t worry. You’re not,” she shook her head and extended a hand to take his jacket from him. Their hands brushed and she gasped, “Oh my God! Vernon, your hands are like ice!”

He ignored what she said, as his eyes had dropped to her finger with the paper cut, “You’re bleeding!”

“Shit, I forgot.” Instead of going to find her first aid kit, she hung up his jacket on one of the hooks near the door and went into her bedroom.

He was still staring at his jacket next to her coat when a minute later she came out holding a soft purple blanket. It wasn’t folded but rolled into a mess of a ball. She awkwardly dropped it onto him where he was sitting and hurried to her drawers that stood near the window. “I’ll make you some tea in a minute,” she added.

He watched her as she carefully rubbed ointment on her finger. Then, she neatly wrapped a band-aid around it, tucked the first aid kit back into the top drawer and peered out the window. The wind outside was stubbornly pushing the trees back and forth and the streets were empty.

“I don’t think the bus will be coming anytime soon and the wind just got worse. Why don’t you wait this out and get some rest? I’ll get your tea now. Make yourself at home.”

The way she talked to him, it was like he was her longtime neighbor and friend. There was no awkwardness or typical fear of a stranger. He felt warm and welcome. It was something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

She handed him a cup of warm tea, wished him a good night (morning) and shuffled away into her bedroom nonchalantly.

He watched her take those couple of steps towards her bedroom door, smiling to himself. She looked so comfortable and happy. A huge contrast to the girl he met at the club. That girl was a polished piece of perfection, but this one, this girl was clumsy enough to injure her finger while picking papers off her coffee table at 5 am in the morning and then treat the tiniest wound like she was a nurse in training. This girl openly invited him into her home and made him tea, keeping him warm and comfortable.

What was astounding, was that she was the same girl. He wondered which side was the real her and why she appeared so different from the first time they met. There were a million questions in his head, but he tried not to think too much. Regardless of which girl was the “real” one, he liked them both.

His eyes were shutting and his body was filled with drowsiness, but, he pulled out his notepad and scrawled down a couple more words before sleep overtook him.

Does she love me Does she love me not I am counting flower petals all day long Does she love me Does she love me not What will the petals answer to me?

In a few hours, he woke up. Now that he was wide-awake, he rose from the couch and took a few steps around the living room.

The place smelled like freshly ground coffee and chocolates. It must have been the scented candles, which were neatly positioned on the shelves, he thought.

It was a small, but comfy space. There were two doors. One that led to her bedroom and the other, which he assumed led to the bathroom. The way to the kitchen was just an opening in the wall.

In contrast to her dark clothes and makeup, the interior of her place was much lighter. In a corner, there was the bright blue three-seater couch that he’d just slept on. It stood next to an ever brighter pink armchair. The drawers that’d she’d rummaged through earlier stood next to her window, which had its blinds pulled down. Amongst the many shelves filled with books, boxes, and DVDs there was a TV positioned right across from the seating area.

One shelf particularly stood out, as it was wrapped in fairy lights. Stepping a little closer, he noticed that it was stacked with movies, some dating back to the 90s. He lightly ran his fingers across the endless boxes, mouthing the titles of the movies that he recognized.

He stopped at one particular spot, reading the words on the box to himself, “School of Performing Arts - Seoul.”

As if struck by a sudden realization, he decided to pull the box out and take a closer look. It was a simple black DVD box, labeled as “SOPA. Annual Talent Show.” There were a couple more similar boxes that stood next to it on the shelf, dating back two years.

The sudden creak of the door made him turn his head towards the noise. She was awake. She wore the same clothes from early morning, but now, a silky lavender robe hugged her shoulders. Groggy from her sleep, she mumbled, “Hey.”

“Hey,” he echoed.

“Find anything interesting?” she asked softly, pointing at the box in his hands.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop, but...” he hesitated, but continued, “...you didn’t say you attended.” He held up the DVD. It was more of a question than a statement, as he remembered the things he told her a few hours ago. She never mentioned that she had attended his dream school.

“So that was the dream school you were talking about,” she replied with an ever softer voice. One that was barely heard. “I didn’t realize.”

“I dropped out anyway,” she added, lowering her gaze.

His eyes widened, “You dropped out?! Why?!”

To him, it seemed like something almost impossible. He couldn’t comprehend how someone like her would leave something like that behind.

“It doesn’t matter. I just left and didn’t go back,” she sighed and shook her head, refusing to tell him anything else.

She’d met Jeonghan at that same school. It was her first week there along with Seungcheol. They’d both applied and had been accepted for showing exceptional talent. Most of her breaks were spent with Seungcheol in the cafeteria or roaming around the campus.

One day, when Seungcheol had to stay home, she decided to wander the corridors of the campus. It wasn’t too long until she heard the sound of someone singing through the thin walls.

The noise came from the auditorium. She made her way towards the door and quietly went inside. The lights were dimmed and the only one who stood on stage, was him, Yoon Jeonghan, the talented senior that everyone talked about, the one with the voice of an angel.

He didn’t notice her at first, so she chose to sit down in one of the comfy chairs at the far back. She sat there and listened for a while. His voice had hypnotized her, but it wasn’t the only thing that caught her attention.

His hair stood out the most. It was onyx black and pulled into a short ponytail, with not a strand out of place. He wore an elegant white button-up and sleek black pants. His patent leather shoes were polished to perfection. He had the aura of a sleazy rich boy, or so everyone said.

When the music came to a halt, she found him directly looking at her. Despite the distance between them, she felt his gaze to be piercing and yet gentle. In that moment, she somehow knew that this young man would be the end of her.

It was love at first sight, a true fairytale. “Prince Jeonghan,” she’d call him. She was overwhelmed with feelings towards him and much to her joy at the time, he’d soon returned them without hesitation. Looking back, she knew that their relationship consisted of late night drives and dates that lasted hours. Some nights they’d lay on the bed in his apartment in Seoul, talking about little nothings including what their days were like in college.

It was everything she’d ever wanted. It was perfectly perfect. But it wasn’t.

And in another year, she would quit her school, move to New York, and become a completely different, secluded person. She would hide away her traitorous heart that she once so eagerly wore on her sleeve. She would forget about ever performing again.

But for now, she lived her fairy tale happily, unaware of the near future.

The way Vernon talked about attending that school, made her feel guilty for quitting. But she’d never let him know the real reason why.

They stood in silence as the memories ran through her head. Vernon looked genuinely shocked but didn’t try to ask any more questions. Somehow, he understood that it wasn’t money that held her back. It was principle.

Her ringtone cut through the awkward silence. S.Coups finally called back.

“Heeeeey,” he said in the most innocent tone he could before she could flip out on him. “I know you’re mad. I’m sorry, but--”

“Don’t ‘but,’ me Choi Seungcheol. Where were you all morning?!” She snapped, turning sideways to avoid direct eye contact with Vernon, who was very grateful that she wasn’t yelling at him, as she was barking curse words at Seungcheol.

While she was on the phone, Vernon slowly put on his boots on and slipped the notepad into the pocket of his bomber jacket that still hung on the wall hook.

“That’s all,” Seungcheol finished, “I just got a little carried away and completely forgot about Vernon,” he abruptly stopped, “Vernon! Shit! Did he get home alright?”

She glanced back at Vernon who flashed a small smile at her from across the living room.

“Well,” she lingered.

“It’s okay, just tell me when I get there. I’m coming up now,” he said cheerfully and dropped the call.”

“Wait--”

Get there? Oh crap. Her best friend had a key to her apartment, of course. What would he want at this hour? Couldn’t he just call me as always? She thought.

The sudden noise of a key turning startled Vernon just as much as it startled her. They exchanged wide-eyed looks and she reluctantly made her way to the door.

Just as she thought he would, Seungcheol froze when he saw Vernon in her apartment. After a moment, he gave her the most accusing wide grin and he pushed past her to stand between her and Vernon, who uneasily sat back on the couch. Seungcheol looked back and forth between them as if fishing for words to say.

She hoped he wouldn’t find them and glared at him with denial in her eyes. No, Cheol this is so not what you think it is, she told him mentally.

“Vernon!” he finally said with a grin and greeted the boy. “Wait, are you two..?” He was gesturing with his hands in a way that made her want to crawl into a hole somewhere and hide.

Vernon scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment and she slapped Seungcheol’s shoulder, “Cheol,” she barked, “really?”

“That’s true you haven’t had a guy over since you broke up wi--”

“CHEOL!” She practically shrieked. Unbeknownst to her, Vernon tilted his head to the side, as if curious.

“Well, it’s about time,” Seungcheol protested.

She threw her hands in the air and muttered, “you try to do a nice thing--I don’t know why I bother.” Exasperated, she gave Cheol another look and he gasped as if he was remembering that he was not actually there to mortify her, and made his way to her bedroom.

“Jacket! I forgot my jacket here the other time!”

Vernon, surprised, realized just how familiar Seungcheol with her place. He seemed to stroll around like he owned the place. But what he didn’t know was that though they didn’t live together, Seungcheol would often spend weekdays watching movies here and just lazing on her couch.

Vernon couldn’t help but wonder if there was something between them. Unaware of what the sudden feeling in his gut was, his eyes darkened with jealousy.

Seungcheol came out of the bedroom, with his jacket in hand and beckoned to Vernon, “Let’s go then, if you two are done,” he mockingly grinned at her expected angry expression, “we’ve got things to do.”

Vernon snapped out of it and nodded in agreement. He quickly got up and flashed a polite, more reserved smile in her direction. She hesitated at the change, but returned it and gave a slight wave of her hand as both went out the door.

Before she closed the door, Seungcheol leaned in and said in a lower tone, “Do me a favor, come to the club an hour earlier tonight. I’ve got something to show you.”

Not having a single idea what it could be, she hastily agreed to get him out of her apartment and shut the door.

Tonight she wore her black ripped skinny jeans and a striped crop top with long sleeves. It was exactly an hour before opening time and Seungcheol was on stage, fiddling with the mics. For some reason, there were two of them.

She still didn’t understand why until Vernon came in through the doors. Were they practicing something? If so, why did she have to sacrifice another hour of her free time to be here? Making herself comfortable at her usual spot at the bar counter, she gave Cheol half a wave signaling that he had her attention.

He smiled and spoke through the mic, “Thanks for coming, boss.” He tapped both mics with his finger, but instead of staying on stage like she guessed he would, he strolled over to her and stood right behind her.

“You gonna sing from here now?” she joked.

He shushed her, cupping her ears and turning her head to the stage, “Just listen.”

The music started up and Vernon pulled the mic from its stand. His cap was off, letting his brown locks bounce freely as he bopped his head to the beat. He took a breath and started rapping.

Lean on me Lean on me

If I am in your heart If I am really in your heart Wherever you are I will follow you

Even if we’re so busy That we can’t see each other often If we get drunk on each other and fall asleep In the dreams, don’t hesitate Lean on me

We are doing well So have strength Even if you wake up from your dreams If I’m really in your heart Wherever you are I’ll be there

As the words left his lips, hers parted in awe. She couldn’t believe how talented he really was. The fact that he wrote these lyrics himself was impressive, but that was not just it. The way he carried himself on stage was incredible. He was the complete opposite of the shy, polite boy that she met less than a day ago. On stage, he was a confident, charismatic young man.

When he stopped, he pushed his hair back with his fingers and humbly smiled, bowing his head.

Seungcheol started clapping at a ridiculously fast pace, but she could only nod in agreement.

She turned to face Seungcheol, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Hire him,” he said simply.

“What?” she snapped. “You know I can’t do that, for a multitude of reasons.”

“Those being?” he shrugged.

She glared at him, “You know more than well that I do not own the club. And he’s only nineteen! Uncle would kill me.”

“No, uncle will listen to you,” he protested.

As they distractedly whispered to each other, Vernon got off the stage and walked over to them, ceasing the whispers.

The three of them exchanged little smiles. She and Seungcheol looked like concerned parents talking about their only child. Vernon seemed relatively unphased and like he wasn’t really waiting for any kind of opinion or answer. She wondered if Seungcheol told him about his hiring plans.

What confused her most was why Cheol would let anyone rap beside him on his stage. She thought about it all night, and then remembered that he would be going back to Korea next year, which was very soon.

Seungcheol had moved to New York with her that one summer, dropping out of school as well to be there for her. Somehow, he never really left and decided to stay with her for a year. Just one year, he said, for reasons he changed each time, but she knew it was until he was convinced that she was truly okay.

Faster than she liked, her time with the last person on the earth who could actually bring a genuine smile to her lips, was coming to an end. She realized that even though he was leaving, he was still trying to look out for her. A part of her wished she could ask him to stay, but she knew he would, and after all he had done for her, she owed it to him to at least pretend she was okay, which sadly, she wasn’t.

The sun was slowly rising once again as she stood at the club’s entrance, with her knuckles curled up in the pockets of her navy coat.

She didn’t just wait for Vernon this time, but Seungcheol as well. Vernon walked out first. The wind blew his hair all over the place and she could clearly see that he regretted not wearing a cap today.

Seungcheol came right behind him, with much more enthusiasm. He wrapped his arms around both their shoulders and they started crossing the road.

The walk to the bus stop was shorter than expected, with small talk, most of which was from Seungcheol, here and there. He talked about going back to SOPA and how he’d miss rapping on the club’s stage. His tone wasn’t sad in any way. Honestly, it never was. Seungcheol was always the positive type, keeping the atmosphere far from gloomy.

Vernon, though, was a little too quiet, forcing a laugh every once in awhile. Seungcheol didn’t seem to notice and kept chattering on about anything and everything, not leaving her any time to interject and ask Vernon what was on his mind.

Once they finally got to the bus stop, Seungcheol gave her a hug and whispered in her ear, “Hire him.”

She gave him another one of her glares and waved goodbye.

“You okay?” she asked Vernon, who had sat heavily on the same bench she saw him on last night, as soon as Seungcheol was out of sight.

She walked over and sat down next to him. This time, she decided, she would wait for the bus to come.

His face lit up, almost like there wasn’t a hint of worry in his heart, but that wasn’t the case. She could somehow tell, which surprised him.

“I’m good,” he lied with an unconvincing smile.

“Then why were you so quiet all the way? Is it because I didn’t hire you right away?” she asked.

His eyes widened and he shook his head a couple of times, “No! Nonono! That’s not it! I promise.”

“Look,” she started, making sure her tone wasn’t too harsh or overly sweet, “You’re so talented, why would you want to waste your time rapping at a club like that? Why don’t you just get on a plane and go live your dream?” She made a lot of hand gestures while she said those things. It was a mystery to her why he’d waste his time like that.

He silently looked at her and then said, “Well, I'm kind of a few dollars short...” He paused, “Few thousand actually.”

All she could blurt out was, “Oh. I see.” He could make it seem like a joke. Somehow that boy always had a smile on his face, no matter how serious the subject was. He was always so positive about things, it was astounding. But after tonight, she knew there was more to that smile than it seemed and despite herself, she was intrigued.

In a few awkward moments of silence, he finally decided to ask her what was bothering him the entire day.

He blurted,“So, are you and Cheol...?”

She immediately understood what he meant and the entire night flashed before her eyes.

“Oh! No! Nononono,” she laughed. “Cheol and I aren’t like that. We grew up together. I guess we give off that vibe sometimes because we have known each other so long and even work together, but no, we’re not a couple. And we never have been.”

She could see the relief wash over him like a cold bucket of water pouring over his head. At the same time, she wondered if he thought she was afraid he’d “outshine” her “boyfriend” on stage. That was clearly not the case in her head.

“Ah, I see,” he nodded awkwardly, catching a quick glance at her and then glancing away.

It was cute that he thought Seungcheol and her were a thing. It was even cuter than he cared at all.

The bus pulled over just in time. They both got up at the same time and exchanged casual goodbyes.

As he took that one step to get into the bus, she grabbed him by his sleeve. “Hey, you know what? You’re hired,” she heard herself say, with shock. She couldn’t believe she’d just hired him! Her Uncle would kill her! There was something about this boy that was always making her do unexpected things!

He turned around and grabbed her hand with the both of his. He shook it a couple of times, thanking her more times than she could count. That’s what finally made her chuckle and as the bus driver called Vernon in, he finally had to let go.

As soon as the bus took off, she crossed the road and continued making her way to her apartment as usual. To her surprise, she couldn’t seem to control the smile that tickled her face. She rubbed her hands together over and over again. Her cheeks burned crimson.

It wasn’t because of the cold, and this time she turned around.

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