#turned it back on just a sec ago. it's quarter to midnight

[drlavenderpepper]

hi there i was out having a social life somehow!

[tvdiaries-imagines]

Old Flame: Pt. 12

Warnings: Cursing, of course

Word Count: 3262

OLD FLAME MASTERLIST: CLICK HERE

A/N: Just a heads up, my darlings. This is not going to follow the show’s timeline/plot. I’m going off of my own personal timeline/plot :) Enjoy!

-

It is nearly midnight and the streets of the French quarter is filled with hoards of people, the majority inebriated. As you waltz down Bourbon Street, you take in everything around you from the street performers to the jazz band playing in the club you just walked past. Even a couple tourists flashed themselves for cheap beads being thrown from the balcony. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the juvenile gesture. You truly appreciated this city’s rarity and alluring culture. 

Rousseau’s caught your eye and you stopped in your tracks. You recall befriending the bartender, so you cross your fingers, hoping that she is currently working a shift. A familiar face other than the Mikaelsons is what you need right now.

Gently pushing through the crowd towards the bar, you are lucky enough to catch Camille tending the bar with her fellow coworker. She snatched her tip from the bar top before noticing your presence. “Hey! Long time no see.” She beamed. “Y/N, is it?” 

“Yup.” You sighed, taking a seat on a newly vacant bar stool. “I’ve had a day, Camille.” 

She raised her brows, briskly wiping down the bar, snickering. “Tell me about it. So what can I get you?”

“Whiskey. Neat.” 

“Gotcha.” She mentioned, pouring your drink and taking your cash before assisting other customers.

You freed your phone from your handbag as you sipped your whiskey, hoping you’d receive a response from Kai. Now’s the perfect time for the two of you to get into some trouble, but there was no word from him. 

Although, you were relieved that there are no missed calls from Klaus. He must not be aware that you’ve left and you wanted to keep it that way.

“Hey beautiful. What’s your name?” An unfamiliar male voice muttered beside you. 

You glanced up from your phone, noticing that the man beside you was talking to you. “Oh, are you talking to me?” You raised a brow, unphased. 

“I mean, yeah. You’re the prettiest one here so who else would I be talking to?” He mentioned with a grin. You mentally rolled your eyes at the cheap pick up line. 

“Thanks.” You said blandly, unbothered by his compliment as you take another sip of your whiskey whilst scrolling through your phone to show that you aren’t interested.

“You seem bored. Let me buy you a drink and we can get to know each other.” He hummed, inching closer to you. “You tell me your name and I’ll tell you mine.”

“No, I’m good.” You remarked, eyes never leaving your phone screen.

“Come on. Don’t be like that.” The annoying male put his hand at the small of your back and it caused you to snap.

You glared up at him, gazing into his eyes to expeditiously compel him. “I said I’m good! Now leave me alone.” Without hesitation, the stranger turned on his heel and disappeared elsewhere.

“Hey Y/N,” Camille started, leaning closer towards you, flickering her eyes at the guy walking away. “Are you good?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You shrugged, throwing your phone back in your purse before taking another generous sip of your drink. 

“Are you expecting someone? Like your friend, Kai?” The bartender asked. 

“Actually, I am not. It’s just me tonight.”

“Oh. Well I’m about to clock out for my shift.” Camille mentioned, blue eyes focused on you. “Do you wanna grab a drink some place else?” 

Your expression softened from the gesture. “Sure. That actually sounds fun.”

Camille finished serving a few more customers’ drinks until another bartender arrived to clock in for her shift. Then, your blonde acquaintance grabbed her purse from the back room and met you outside of Rousseau’s.

“So. Where do you wanna head to?” Camille asked eagerly. 

“You’re the local, Camille.” You peered at her. “Show me around.”

Camille took you inside of a jazz club just a few doors down. There was a crowd of people gathered together to watch the loud band play their instruments perfectly in sync. After some small talk and a couple more shots, Camille seemed to gain some liquid courage. “I’ve been dying to ask you something, Y/N.”

“Sure. What’s up?” 

“That guy at Rousseau’s.” Her brows furrowed. “Did you like, compel him?”

“Excuse me?” You asked, pretending you didn’t understand Camille’s question, though you understood completely. Luckily you were able to prevent a shocked expression from forming across your face. You already know that Camille and Klaus are friends, but you forgot to ask him if she knows about vampires or if she’s in the dark about it.

“Your friend Kai didn’t tell you? He tried to compel me that day that I first met you two, after you left to see your ex again. But what he didn’t know is that I wear vervain now, so…”

“Oh…” You reeled back, shocked and relieved that she knew about vampires. Now you don’t have to feel like you need to hide it from her all of the time. “Well to answer your question. Yes, I did compel that annoying ass guy.” You let out a chuckle and Camille joined.

“Unfortunately I do know about all the supernatural in this city and I can’t help but be caught in it sometimes.” Camille let out a breath. 

“Sorry, I totally forgot to ask Klaus if you knew about vampires, werewolves and witches when I brought you up.” 

“Klaus? As in, Klaus Mikaelson?”

“Yes.” You gave a pointed look. 

“I’d ask how you even know him, but now I know you’re a vampire and he’s an original, so every supernatural person knows him and is practically out to get him.”

You gestured to the bartender to hand you another round of shots. “Well Camille, he is the reason why I’m even in this city.”

“Wait a sec.” She shook her head, utterly baffled by this new information. “Hold on. So you’re telling me that Klaus Mikaelson is the ex you’re visiting here?”

“Yes, but I don’t even know what we are right now considering that he’s been calling me by my old pet names again and we ended up...sleeping together.” You downed your shot. Camille mirrored. “Oh and we just got in a fight. Hence, why I’m out and about. So I guess it’s complicated.” You added, sighing faintly. 

“For the amount of time I’ve known Klaus, I’ve learned that he is a complicated person with a hot temper. But,” the blonde paused, “I’ve noticed he stopped seeing me for sessions since I’ve met you. I guess that’s all thanks to you, huh?”

“Technically thanks to his sister Rebekah for begging me to come here.” You answered, shaking your head. 

“I have to tell you, Y/N,” she implied lightheartedly, “I bumped into Klaus this morning and he was running around on a mission for breakfast food. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him take breakfast food so seriously.” A burst of laughter left Camille’s mouth and that’s when you sensed her drunk is creeping up. “Now it makes sense because he was getting it for you. That’s sorta romantic for someone like him. Don’t you think?”

“Another round, Camille?” You asked her with a forced smile across your face. You’re still upset with Klaus, so you wanted to move onto another topic.

After a couple more shots and swaying to the rhythm of the jazz music, the two of you exited the vicinity and continued your drunken stroll down bourbon street, arms clinged to one another. What you didn’t expect to happen during this drunken escapade was to run into Marcel and a friend of his, who you nearly bumped into. “Hey there you.” Marcel said to Camille with a smile plastered on his face. He had a brown bag in his hand. 

“Marcel! Hey!” A drunk Camille exclaimed, wrapping her arms around Marcel in a hug.

“I’m guessing you’re a friend of Marcel’s? My name’s Y/N.” You mentioned, shaking hands with Marcel’s shy friend made of caramel skin and dark hair. 

“Josh. Nice to meet you.” He muttered, smiling softly.

“Glad to see that the two of you have become friends.” Marcel peered at you and Camille. “So where’s Klaus? I thought the two of you were attached at the hip.”

“They’re kind of fighting so…” The blonde human let slip due to her inebriated state and you shrugged at Marcel and his friend Josh.

“I’m not surprised. He is known for pissing everyone off. But come join us at my spot for a shin-dig I’m having.” Marcel lifted his brown bag at eye level. It seems there’s liquor inside. “That’s if Klaus doesn’t have my head for it.”

You smirked. “Nik doesn’t even know I’m out in the first place. So let’s go.” 

(Meanwhile…)

For a long while, Klaus attempted to get into Elijah’s head, but he did not prevail. His mother’s magic was far too strong, so he had no choice but to retrieve the Merlock orchid for his favorite older brother. 

As much as Hayley wanted to run off and rip Esther’s head off, Klaus convinced her to stay put in the compound with the wolves. He didn’t want to risk Hayley being held hostage by Esther, followed by Elijah waking to the news.

Klaus dreaded the mere thought of the journey to search for the unique orchid that is said to revive Elijah. The hybrid had a tiring day, so he decided it’s best he rest up a few hours before beginning his journey. Regrettably leaving his poor brother to suffer in bed, Klaus stepped out down the hallway. He was downright exhausted from today’s escapades, so he decided he should shut his eyes a few hours before he begins his journey with you in the bayou. 

If Elijah can handle being daggered for days on end, he can survive this dreadful night. The hybrid thought. 

He learned his lesson from your kidnapping this morning, so no matter how much of your wrath he’s going to have to face, you are coming with him.

Walking along the hall, Klaus halted when he reached your door.  Klaus outstretched his arm to turn the doorknob, but withdrew it once his finger tips grazed it. The disagreement you had not too long ago appeared in his memory.

Klaus began pacing in front of your door. He even thought about knocking on it. But after serious contemplation, remembering that the disagreement the two of you had was still fresh, he decided to give you your space in the meantime and call it a night. He didn’t dare risk facing your wrath because that’ll only lead to him firing back at you, so he made a beeline for his bedroom. 

(The Following Morning…)

You’re so grateful for being a vampire because you didn’t have the displeasure of waking up with an excruciating hangover. Especially after the amount of alcohol you consumed last night. 

Speaking of last night, the majority of it was a blur but you do recall having a great time with Marcel and his many friends. 

After waking up on Marcel’s couch with your same clothes on from last night and a blanket draped over you, Marcel strutted in with a tray of mugs with coffee nearly filled to the rim, along with other essentials. “Not sure how you like your coffee Y/N, but I brought milk and sugar.” Marcel said, setting the tray on the coffee table. Josh, getting up from the other couch, grabbed a mug and drank his coffee black. 

This started reminding you of your mornings with your good old friend, Stefan. He always knew how you liked your coffee. 

“Thanks Marcel.” You scanned around, noticing someone’s missing as you poured a little bit of cream and sugar inside your coffee. “Where’s Cami?”

“Oh. You don’t remember? One of my guys dropped her off at her apartment last night.” Marcel replied. 

You snorted. “I don’t remember most of last night honestly.” 

Suddenly, a cell phone buzzed from across the room. Since Marcel is closest, he walked over to grab it. “Y/N it’s your phone.” He mentioned, walking towards you.

“Who is it?” You sat up even straighter, curious. 

“Who do you think?” Marcel raised a brow, handing you your cell phone. 

After seeing that it’s Klaus calling, you pressed ignore and began searching through your call log and text log. You let out a sigh of relief learning that you didn’t drunk call or text Klaus last night. Then, you threw your cell phone beside you on the couch and began to sip your coffee. 

“Uh, aren’t you gonna answer that?” Marcel asked. 

“I’m not in the mood.”  

“Well hey,” Marcel started straightforwardly, “Your company was great and all. But if Klaus finds out you’re here-”

“He won’t Marcel.” You implied. “I’m actually about to head out. Do you have an extra tooth brush by the way? I don’t really want to wait until I get home.” 

 “Yeah sure thing.” 

Several minutes later, your teeth are brushed, your heels are back on, your friendly goodbyes are said and you are out the door. Marcel sent one of his guys to drop you off, but suggested you sit in the back seat.

Your damned phone buzzed again and you groaned seeing Klaus’s name flashed on your screen. You pressed ignore and placed your phone back inside your purse. 

Now that you are back in the French quarter, you found it as the perfect opportunity to choose a victim for breakfast. You hung out in an alley, just watching the people walk by, none yet that looks like the perfect victim for your current mood. You even stayed on the lookout, making sure Klaus isn’t wandering around searching for you. 

But finally, your patience paid off because you found a young male who looks to be in his twenties. He is alone, looking down at his cell phone. You quickly approach him before he could get too far. “Excuse me, I need your help.” You said, tapping his shoulder. 

He looked up from his phone, gazing into your eyes. “Sorry miss. I’m not from here.”

“That’s okay.” You shrugged casually before compelling him. “Follow me.” 

The young man quickly obeyed and followed you deep into the alley behind a large trash bin, out of sight by any passerbys. “Don’t make a sound or else.” You ordered. He nodded his head in a daze. 

“Or else what?” An annoyingly familiar voice blurted from behind you. 

Your nostrils flared and your expression hardened as you screamed internally in anguish. “Leave and forget this.” You muttered after a deep breath to your failed victim.

You turned on your heel to face the familiar man before you, grimacing. “What are you doing here, Nik?”

“Pardon?” Klaus leered. “I was going to ask what time you left this morning, but I can smell the liquor from your pores so it must mean you’ve been gone all night.” 

“Okay and?” 

“Where the bloody hell did you go?” He asked, demanding an answer. 

“Don’t worry about it.” You scowled with hostility. 

“Y/N.” His pupils flared, ready to snap at any given moment. “Where did you go?” 

All this conversation did was irritate you and you were hungry for blood, so you turned your back to Klaus and began stomping away. You had to send your victim away, so your next best thing was to go to the compound. There’s always a stash of blood there. 

“Answer me!” Klaus roared in fury, which flowed through him like lava. 

“I was out with Camille okay!” You spat back, turning to show your irated expression, hands clenched into fists. “Jesus, Nik. You don’t have to fucking yell.” 

“Perhaps you should have answered me the first time instead of walking away like a child!” Klaus was breathless with anger, so much that passerbys down the alleyway noticed, but still kept walking. Klaus lowered his tone. “Let alone ignore my phone calls.”

A dark chuckle escaped your lips as you grimaced at the hybrid before you. “Why should I? Last time I checked, you were the one giving me the silent treatment.”

“You know,” Klaus pointed a nagging finger at you, “I nearly ran off to Esther assuming she’s taken you again.” 

“Well she didn't, okay? I left voluntarily.” Your expression remained hardened. 

“What is the meaning of this childish attitude?”

“Like you’re the one to talk.” You scoffed, continuing your steps towards the compound without a backwards glance. “Don’t even fucking start with me, Nik.” 

There was no further conversation during the walk to the compound, as Klaus didn’t want to cause a scene in front of the many tourists. Instead, he trailed behind you.

As soon as you passed the iron gate, entering the Mikaelson compound, you made a run for your bedroom at vamp speed but Klaus was much quicker than you. 

“We’re not finished here.” He muttered in a threatening tone, facing you while his back faced the door. 

“Oh really? Well it’s a good thing that I don’t take orders from you.” You threw your hands at your hips. 

“I’m serious.” 

“What the hell do you want me to say, huh? I’m sorry that I left without telling you? Because I’m not. Now get out of my way before I make you.” You attempted to shove him away, but his tall frame is a wall of hard muscle and he did not shift. 

You groaned in frustration before making your way to the nearest room with a bar, pouring yourself a glass of blood and chugging it, still leaving a good amount inside. Klaus followed and took a seat beside you on the bar stool, examining your expression.

After a minute of making no eye contact with Klaus, you glared at him for a moment before whipping his cheek with your palm. It made you feel slightly better, but the gesture wasn’t returned with any response from Klaus. He just sat there waiting for you to say something first. 

“You said our conversation isn’t finished, Nik. So go on. You can talk now.” You folded your arms across your chest.

Klaus suddenly rose to his feet. It nearly made you anxious because you weren’t sure if he was going to yell at the top of his lungs or not. He can be unpredictable at times. 

“Were you going to come back?” He asked, pouring himself a glass of bourbon before sitting on the nearest couch, facing you. 

“What?” You blurted, spinning the bar stool around to fully face Klaus. 

“After your recent escapades, were you planning on returning to the compound?”

“Of course I was.” You paused, clearing your throat. “I was just upset and I needed to get away for a minute.” Klaus blinked. Your eyes narrowed. “Did you think I was going to go back to Mystic Falls?” 

He glanced away. “Yes.” 

You were taken aback. Of course you’re utterly upset with Klaus, but the thought to run back to Mystic Falls never crossed your mind. You were slightly insulted that he would even think that.

“Nik, I would never.” Your brows furrowed, eyes boring into his with irritation. “Yes, I was mad at you, but I wouldn’t leave just like that. I can’t believe you thought I would ever do that.” You scolded. 

“I don’t know what to think especially after…” He trailed off. 

Your heart sunk into your chest. “After finding the ring?” You finished his sentence, staring at your fiddling fingers on your lap. 

Dammit, you’ve been dreading this topic.

-

A/N: Ahhhh please don’t hate me for ending it here! There’s more to Y/N and Klaus’s conversation and it will be continued in Part 13! Anyhow, thanks to everyone for following along with me since the beginning and a hello to any of my newer readers. I hope this chapter was worth the wait for you guys. 🖤 Comments are always appreciated! 😊

TAGS: @ynm1505 @ravenmoore14@xdontxcare @seasiren96@anyasthoughts @woodworthti666 @agentmarvel13@miss-lumiere@elizabeth-ann1090 @physically-a-cheesecake@azhar1422 @morsmornte @retrocontessa @kollover24 @thewolf-and-thesheep @xoxoaudreymarie @dezzym17@siphonersalvatore @yolobloggers @akshi8278​ @simonsaysyasss​ @eggingamazinglove​ @brooklymw @baseballbitch116​ @hyperion-moonbabe​ @iamjustaslytherinrose​ @lillianeh879  @hannahzlee @bokettolove​ @hyperion-moonbabe​ @gangofhoes​ @sashimi-cat​ @marvel-ousnesss​ @deathkat657​ @rauwz​ @star-adorned​ @bobamilqtea @lunareclipse-e @krazykatkay456 @geeksareunique @hybridgirl99 @romyislief @psychicwinnerstranger @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere3

[sxfterhearts]

22. [4:22 pm]

“That’s all for today, good job everyone on your midsemester exams, and don’t forget to submit your assignments by midnight on Saturday.” Loud rustles echoed around the room as impatient students began to pack up their things and leave. “See you next week, class.”

Even before you dismissed your tutorial class, nearly three-quarters of the room was already vacated. As the last few students got up and bid you goodbye, a few of them stayed back to ask you questions about the midsemester exam you just reviewed. Being an experienced tutor for this unit, you listened intently to every single one of their questions and worries, providing them with answers to the best of your knowledge. It was common for you to get held back for nearly fifteen to twenty minutes because the unit you tutored was known to be difficult yet essential for all students from your major. You remembered taking this unit yourself two years ago and all the grief it had caused you, hence you fully empathised with your students.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar blonde-haired boy leaning against a table and browsing casually on his phone as you placed all of the midsemester exams back into the cardboard box, along with your stationary and other tutorial material. He was the last student left. “Bambam,” you called the boy. “How can I help you?”

“What are you doing after this, Y/N?”

You tried your best to resist the strong urge to roll your eyes. Bambam had been over the moon when he found out that you, his former class president from high school, was assigned to tutor his class for the entire semester. Ever since high school, he had made countless futile attempts to get closer to you. Most girls back then would have been flattered by the vice president of the student council’s undivided attention – he was always trailing around you like a lost puppy, offering to help you with tasks that you were fully capable of handling, or leaving you small gifts like chocolate and miniature wooden figures from his Woodwork class.

Undeterred, you never caved to his advances, for many reasons. For one, the two of you were polar opposites. The only similarity that you shared was that you were both teachers’ pets who sat on the student council. Anything beyond that, such as your personalities (you were the studious, quiet type; he was popular, smart and sporty) and your interests (you loved escaping to the library and reading; he practically lived on the basketball courts) were miles apart. Secondly, you absolutely loathed all the attention he gave you. You disliked his grand gestures that quickly became the talk of the school. There was so much unnecessary gossip surrounding you due to Bambam’s actions and you hated it when people talked behind your back. Some girls even started sending you anonymous threats on social media for being the apple of Bambam’s eye and for rejecting his heart. It was just too much for you and you decided that you wanted nothing to do with him.

Things were much more different now, of course. Most people mature when they enter university and thankfully the students who used to harass you either studied elsewhere or lost interest in the situation completely. You had enjoyed your peace and quiet without him in your first year when Bambam had decided to take a gap year, but he had since returned from his worldly travels. You rarely came in contact with him in your second year as you had completed a year of studies abroad, but this year, by some twisted stroke of luck, you had been assigned as his tutor.

He was the same old Bambam, always so persistent, but a bit more mature in his approach. He would ask you the same question every other week, about your schedule, and whether you were free to ‘catch up’, but he knew how to stop and wish you a good day once you rejected him. You always gave him the same answer, a polite “No, thank you,”, before parting ways with him. That is, until last week.

It was the week of midsemester exams. Due to the exam timetable, the exam of the unit you tutored fell on a Monday, four days before the exam that you had to sit which was on the Friday. Normally, this would be an ideal timetable, however another one of the tutors came down with a serious case of the flu and the professor assigned you to mark her load of papers by Friday. By Wednesday afternoon, you were marking papers in an abandoned corner of the cafeteria, running on a lack of sleep and an astronomical amount of caffeine in your bloodstream. When Bambam walked up to you and sat across you, spouting his usual questions, you just lost it. “No! I have nearly two hundred papers to grade and a difficult exam to study for. No, I am not free, so leave me alone!” You yelled at him, nearly on the brink of tears.

Bambam was clearly taken aback by your outburst, of course. You were soft-spoken and demure, never one to raise your voice in a public place. He could see the resemblance between the woman before him, struggling to hold back the tears, and the girl he saw hiding in an abandoned classroom three years ago, bawling her eyes out as she crouched amongst a sea of books and papers. He remembered that you never really dealt with academic stress very well.

On the surface level, Bambam seemed the stereotypical rich boy on campus, shooting hoops with the boys every day while playing with a different girl every night. It wasn’t true, though. There’s more than meets the eye.

You learned that when he had respectfully asked whether he could stay with you, and if he could bring you somewhere to take your mind off things. Suddenly exhausted, you finally gave in to him, watching him tidy up your things and place them into your bag. You figured it was about time you took a break from this madness anyways. He led you towards the footpath by the riverside across the road from your university campus. The two of you walked in silence, with nothing but the sound of waves crashing against the bay filling your ears. He took you to the far side of the bay which you rarely frequented and sat on the bench facing the river. There were many more yachts docked nearby, their periodic swaying therapeutic to watch, and the occasional dog would pass by, wagging its tail in greeting. Being in nature was calming, and you felt yourself relax in his presence.

“Hello, earth to Y/N.” Bambam waved his palm in front of your face. “Are you alright? You spaced out there for a sec,”

You swung your backpack over your shoulder and picked up the heavy box filled with stacks of paper. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Did you miss my question? I asked you about your plans after class.” The blonde boy reminded, walking side by side as the two of you exited the tutorial room.

You were still somewhat shaken by the flashback you had. It left a deep impression on you, and casted Bambam in a completely different light. “Uh, yeah, sorry.” You readjusted the box in your hands. “I’m just dropping these off at the professor’s desk.”

“Wait, did you just give me a proper answer?” Bambam wondered aloud, clearly taken aback by your less-than-usual response. I’m making progress, he thought. “Can I come with? I was hoping you’d be free after that too, I wanted to take you out for a coffee.”

“Why?”

“Well, see, I wanted to talk to you about last week. You know, when-” He was interrupted by your soft wince as you readjusted the box once more. “Do you want me to carry it?”

You shook your head adamantly. “It’s not heavy.” You shot him a pointed look. “I’m stronger than I look.”

Bambam stifled a laughter at your determined expression. “Yeah, I have no doubt about that.” He quickly stole the box out of your arms and cut you off before you could protest. “You know, Y/N, you don’t have to act so strong all the time. Let others help you once in a while, no one will think any less of you for sharing your burden.”

“I-”

“Ah, Y/N!” Your professor exclaimed, stumbling upon you on his way to meet a colleague. “Are those the papers?”

You and Bambam bowed in greeting. “Yes, sir.” You answered, taking the box away and handing it to your professor. “One of the students had their marks calculated wrongly, I’ve already sent you an email with his student number and the new score. I’m really sorry for the mistake, sir, I promise-”

“That’s fantastic, Y/N. Always so efficient and meticulous. There’s really no need to be sorry! As humans, we are bound to make mistakes. What’s important is how we fix them and how learn from them. Thank you for your hard work, Y/N. You’ve done a good job.”

You turned your gaze downwards, slightly shy due to his kind words. “Yes, sir. Thank you.” You replied softly.

“And who is this young man, Y/N? Are you getting him to do all your dirty work? I saw him carrying the box earlier. It is heavy, though, if I do say so myself.” The professor extended his hand in a handshake, to which Bambam responded with a bright smile on his face.

“My name’s Bambam, sir. I’m doing your unit too, and Y/N is my tutor.”

The professor’s eyebrows quirked up in interest. “Oh? Is this something I should be worried about?”

“Sir, what does that mean?” You asked hurriedly.

He laughed boisterously in response, his half-moon glasses nearly falling off the tip of his nose as he did so. “I’m just joking, you two. Tell me, Bambam, how is it like being tutored by your girlfriend?”

“What-” You shrieked.

Bambam denied hastily. “Girlfriend? She’s not-”

“Sir, this is a misunderstanding, he’s not-” The two of you were gesturing and shaking your heads in unison, denying the professor’s words profusely.

“Ah, young love.” The professor readjusted his glasses as a knowing smile graced his lips. “Listen, son, I’ve known this young lady for two years now and I can assure you that she’s one of the good ones. Treat her well, she’s hard to find and hard to keep.”

Bambam flushed pink at his words. “You can say that again, sir.” His eyes met yours as he flashed you a bashful smile. Little did the professor know that he had been chasing you for the past six years, since the first day of high school.

(And little did you know that, indeed, opposites do attract. Seems like the blonde boy had a soft side that he kept hidden under that goofy exterior of his.)

(Of course, a few months down the road and a dozen coffee dates later, he would ask you to be his girlfriend.)

(And you agreed.)

[inthesummerswelter]

recipe for disaster: chapter fourteen

They don’t talk about it, that early morning with Penn lying on the floor and tea spilling out of the quivering cup in her gran’s hands.

There’s more tenderness between them though, with gentle touches on the arm, hands placed comfortingly on shoulders as they soldier on together, the days getting longer as the New Year comes in on tip-toe.

They don’t talk about it, not when their positions are reversed just under a week later, and Penn is screaming into her mobile, asking for emergency services as her legs buckle underneath her at the sight of her gran, fallen and unconscious at the bottom of the stairs, a small pool of blood staining her pure white hair a sickly shade of peach.

Seeing the gurney wheeled in through the front door has her in near hysterics, utter chaos flooding the living room. She nearly forgets to slip on a pair of shoes before locking the door and rushing out into the back of the ambulance, leaving Cardy and Clove frantically dashing around the flat.

They don’t talk about it, not when Penn’s knuckles are the same sort of pale as the inside of the ambulance, a side effect of the sterile, overhead lighting and from clutching the bars of the gurney too hard. The emergency medical technician in the back drapes an arm over her shoulders, just enough to keep her from flying into the walls as the vehicle takes a sharp turn. All of the sounds come muffled, as if someone’s stuffed cotton into her ears, drowning out the wailing sirens with an eerie blanket of nothing.

She calls Zayn again, numbly, after they restrain her from bursting through the heavy swinging doors where they’ve taken her gran in to do further examination on the severity of the head wound. The reception is bad on his end, crackling with fuzz and static, but she knows that he can hear her telling him about the tacky art adorning the whitewashed walls of the waiting room.

They talk about it when Miriam Bunting gets a room to herself, condition having stabilized enough for Penn to go in and see her.

Or, Penn talks about it, really.

Gingerly holding her hand, made trickier with the tubing feeding into her body, Penn talks about it.

“You’re not scared, I know. But I am. I’m ridiculously scared. And I shouldn’t be, I know. It’s just hard. I know all these things. I know that tomorrow the sun will rise, and I know that tomorrow you’ll still love lily-of-the-valley. I know that the restaurant still exists, and that the clams are one of the most popular appetizers. But I don’t know the scariest things. Where will you go? How long will it take for you to get there? Will there be ovens and lawn chairs and Pop?”

Her voice gives out at the end, and she’s silent for a long time.

The slow beep of the heart monitor is the only other sound in the room, along with the constant whir from the air shaft, providing ventilation in the small room.

“I’m scared and I’m worried and I’m so tired. And I love you so much. I just wish we had more time.”

The monotonous drone is broken by the sound of footsteps. A nurse comes in, presumably to complete a cursory check of the patient, and Penn takes that as a cue to leave for a bit.

All the hallways look the same. She doesn’t pay attention to the signs as she wanders around, taking stairs up and down when she can to avoid groups of people clustered about.

Soon, however, she finds herself in the natal ward, standing just opposite a large pane of glass, behind which lies orderly rows of newborn babies in hospital bassinets, the nursery surprisingly busy.

There’s a digital clock right near the front, flashing the time: 12:48 a.m.

They left the flat at quarter ‘til nine in the evening.

Crossing her arms and bracing them on the small ledge in front of the glass, she watches the babies sleep, reading the name cards over and over again until her whole world consists of linking letters together.

It’s a welcome distraction, until someone nudges her shoulder and pushes something into her hand.

Ashton stands beside her, hair sticking up at odd angles, dark thumbprints of exhaustion evident underneath his hazel eyes. He’s got an old flannel on and a pair of sleep trousers, and a carry-out cup of something in his hand.

“It’s really crap tea,” he mumbles before sipping from the rim of the cardboard cup. She barely registers the cup that’s pushed into her hand seconds before, struck dumb by his presence.

How had he known…?

Pausing in the midst of blowing across the surface of the liquid in an attempt to cool it, he turns and looks at her, taking in her wide eyes and open mouth.

“Zayn,” Ashton says, shrugging his shoulders and turning away, causing the plaid pattern of the flannel to stretch and warp momentarily across the broad plane of his back. “Called me up, told me what’s been going on. Y’know, since you’ve decided to keep me out of the loop and all.”

“I -”

“Told me that I shouldn’t be coming onto private property uninvited? I know you’re hurting, Penn, but that’s no reason to push me away.”

He doesn’t look at her, staring instead through the glass at the little bassinets, one now with waving fists, an apparently unhappy occupant. They watch as a nurse bustles in and takes the newborn in hand, cradling it to her chest and swaying around in loose circle before its cries wake up the other residents.

She didn’t mean it, not really.

He had stopped by on an especially bad afternoon, and she had just, well, snapped.

“I…,” she tries again. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It was me. It’s just me.”

“I fucking know it’s you, Penn, okay?”

Startled at the vehemence in his voice, she accidentally spills a bit of her tea, splattering the pristine tiles.

“Don’t do this to me again. You didn’t answer my calls or my texts. I may not understand exactly what you’re going through, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be there with you, helping you!”

Penn closes her eyes and gently leans over until her head hits his shoulder. It’s shaking.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve fucked everything up.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you have.”

They stand there in the hallway, waiting for nothing in particular.

Everything is quiet now, blanketed with the stillness that only after-midnight hours bring. So quiet that Penn thinks she can hear the thud of their hearts, beating together in a syncopated rhythm.

All that’s missing is a change of scenery, a change of situation. Something that’s not so utterly grim and tinged with a sort of low-budget desperation that washes out all characters on the screen into pale facsimiles of themselves.

Ashton huffs out a sigh, fingers curling into the cool metal of the ledge before finally swinging his head to look at her from underneath honeyed eyelashes.

“Hold this a sec for me?” He gestures to his cup of tepid tea, placing it in her other hand when she nods.

She doesn’t know what she’s expecting him to do - probably bend down to retie his shoe or nip off quickly to the loo, something inane like that - but she knows that it’s not this.

This being him taking three decisive steps forward, until her back hits the drywall just to the side of the large window, liquid in the cups sloshing dangerously close to the rims.

This being him bringing large hands oh so delicately up to slip a lock of hair that had escaped its pin back into place and then back down to cradle the slight curve of her waist and cup the line of her jaw, stroking the skin just behind her ear gently with a calloused fingertip.

This being him using his arms to pull her forward into his front, his chest warm and comfortingly solid.

This being him leaning forward to whisper, his lips a hairsbreadth away from touching the curve of her ear.

“It’s going to be alright. I promise. You just have to be strong a little bit longer.”

He retracts after a moment of hesitation, and, after a moment more, presses a kiss to her forehead, echoing the one on the landing between their flats that seemed like eons ago.

Taking his cup, he mumbles something about needing to see if they’re done in the room and picks up a duffel she hadn’t even noticed off the floor, trudging away back towards her gran’s wing.

Her legs give out seconds later, and she slides down the wall until she’s sitting, all folded up against the wall.

God, what is she even doing any more?

  Less than an hour later, in the dark of her gran’s room, she shifts her head on the coarse canvas of his backpack, nestling further into the nest of spare blankets the nurse on duty had given them. Penn had fallen into a sort of drowsy reverie a lot faster than she initially had thought, and consequently feels just about half-asleep right now.

Her spine bumps up against the long line of his leg, the clacking of the keys on his laptop as he types trailing off.

“‘M still a little pissed with you,” he sighs out, seconds before she feels a hand stroke the side of her head slowly.

The typing picks up again, as Ashton works to finish up a paper, the liquid-crystal of the display casting a glow onto his face for hours after.

They leave the hospital later that next day, in the sun-soaked afternoon.

Ashton comes over and makes up proper tea while Penn touches the pots and pans for what feels like the first time in ages.

   “C’mon, Gran, we’re going to be late for your appointment!”

Penn bustles around the flat, gathering up all the things that they’ll need for their routine visit to the doctor. She’s steeling herself for the day when Dr. Stamford tells them that they should just stay at the hospital until the end, that the cancer has almost completed its goal.

“We’re not going, Penelope.”

Sitting in the rocking chair positioned just close enough to the window to catch the beams of afternoon sun that stream through, Miriam Bunting watches the traffic flood by across the busy fareway.

She stops mid-stride, hand outstretched to grab her keys off the hook by the door.

“What?”

Her gran shrugs. “There’s no point to wasting time with that sort of nonsense. I’ve already phoned up the office and told them. I want to die at home.”

One would think that Penn has cried herself dry by this point, but a flood of tears still rush up unbidden to her eyes.

Illuminated by the shaft of light floating through the window, Miriam looks practically angelic already, pale skin and white housecoat near glowing.

“I’ve made other arrangements for my care for the next days and called for David and Laura. They’re on their way. And, I’ve taken the liberty of going around gathering most of your things. You should go now, Penelope.”

“Wait, what?”

Blindsided doesn’t even begin to describe it right now.

Penn reels at the news. Her gran is dying. Her parents are coming. And she’s supposed to leave her like this?

“You heard me. I don’t want you to see me like...that,” she says, making a gesture off into the air. “I don’t want your last memory of me to be that. Not like how it is with Ichiro. I always felt like we made a mistake, letting you see him in the hospital, but you were so young and so heartbroken…”

“Gran, I’m heartbroken now.”

Facing her granddaughter, there’s steel in Miriam’s eyes, an inner strength completely at odds with her wasted frame.  

“Don’t do this, Penelope. Don’t you dare do this to yourself. You can’t linger and waste your life thinking about this constantly. You have the capacity for great things, and I know you will accomplish them. You can’t linger, can’t waste your life grieving over the inevitable!”

There’s nothing she can do to change her mind, to make her let her stay until the end.

Silently, Penn nods, swiping at her eyes with her fists like a child again.

“I love you, Gran. So much.”

Motioning her closer, she gathers the younger girl in her arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you too, Penelope. Never doubt my love for you.”

After a long while, they draw apart, Penn collecting her remaining things and herding the dogs towards the door after they too have said their goodbyes. She turns to look on her gran, one last time, taking the image to memory before she forces herself to close the door.

The heavy wood hits the frame just seconds before tears start falling onto the weave of the throw rug.

Twilight has come.

   It’s déjà vu all over again for him.        

He looks up as the rain paints pictures against the cold glass of the window, and he smiles because he could use a break from the insufferable writing of his poli sci text right now. Well, from that and from all of the second-hand pain of Penn’s that he’s been toting around on his back.

Ashton doesn’t even bother stripping off his shirt this time, a long-sleeved affair with multicolor stripes. Calum likes to tell him that it makes him look like one of the permanent cast members of Sesame Street.

Opening the slider door that leads out onto the shared terrace, he curls his toes in the puddle that’s already forming under the ledge of the entrance. He closes his eyes and tilts his head up, feeling the torrent run across his face, plastering his wavy mop against his forehead.

There’s just something about the rain that’s special to him, always been special to him.

Ashton cups his hands as he strides out into the middle of the downpour, catching and releasing the water just as quickly as it hits his palms, and he heads for the edge of the small greenhouse structure constructed on the terrace. Penn keeps a few small folding chairs there, and they’re just the right material to get drenched without any damage.

Except, as he rounds the corner, it’s not just the chairs that are there.

Penn’s there, too, just standing right at the edge of the roof with a watering can in loosely wilting fingers. No umbrella, no chastising him for a reckless behavior.

Nothing.

And his heart seizes up in his chest as he realizes just how close she is to the drop-off, watches her feet begin to shift, and Ashton dashes towards Penn, feeling like he’s moving through molasses.

The only thing that runs through his mind right now is Penn Penn Penn there’s something wrong with Penn, and vaguely he knows that her gran is a part of it.

(Something’s wrong, something’s terribly wrong.)

Ashton’s arm shoots out and catches her around the waist, dragging her away from the limestone border of the rooftop terrace and pulls her into him, allowing himself one moment of indulgence in the feel of her body in his arms before he lets go and puts his hands on her shoulders.

“Penn! Penn – fuck, you’re freezing – what the fuck, what the fuck is wrong?” He practically shouts this into her face, her face that’s absolutely devoid of any emotion, and he can’t completely keep the note of desperation out of his voice.

Two words come out of her mouth. “She’s gone.”

He knows exactly who she’s talking about, dead-on with his previous assumption. The only she that Penn ever cared for, and, as far as he knows, ever cared for Penn.

Penn’s eyes finally connect with his own, and it feels like he’s been punched in the gut with the utter loss and confusion and desperation that’s there, waiting for someone to notice.

With all of that, Ashton really shouldn’t be surprised at what happens next, but, Jesus Christ, is he ever.  

Something changes in her expression, and she’s suddenly much closer to him that before. Dimly, Ashton registers the sound of the metal watering can clattering against the tiled roof, but right now most of his concentration is being taken up with trying not to stare too blatantly at the wet shirt draping itself over Penn’s chest.

And then she kisses him.

It’s hot mouths and clacking teeth, and fingers sewing stitches at the nape of his neck and lacing around the curve of his jaw, and he staggers back, clutching her waist again, but this time for balance.

After a few glorious seconds minutes hours days later, he regains some control on his brain and pulls back his hand that’s somehow made its way to the curve of her arse, detaching his mouth from hers in the same motion.

He wants to dive back in as soon as she gives a little, breathy gasp at the sudden lack of him, but, instead, Ashton begins say, “Penn, no this isn’t the right way of doing th –”

His sentence gets cut off by a groan that makes its way up his throat because she’s somehow got her mouth on a point right under his jaw that makes his toes curl, and he knows that it’s going to be a moot point to argue with her when she’s wrangling with his belt in one hand and tracing a steady pattern on the planes of his back with her other.

  It’s not until much later that she gets the call, all crackling static and interference, and she wants so damn much to not believe it, but the words come through with deadly clarity.

“She’s gone,” says her mother, no prefacing needed.

And Penn calmly takes the receiver away from her ear. Silently, her index finger presses down on the ‘end’ button, and the phone gets set on the counter, because Penn has to go water the plants now.

She’s since changed into a different pair of linen shorts and a tee shirt declaring her property of whatever university Ashton’s enrolled in, and she plucks at it idly, thinking that she maybe should change.

But Penn has to go water the plants now, so she slips on her favorite pair of Birkenstocks and loops her fingers around the can sitting right beside the slider door. Pushing the pane of glass aside, she steps out into a torrential downpour, but she has to go water the plants now. It makes no difference what the weather is.    

She makes it halfway to the greenhouse before she stops, adjacent to the rim of the roof, and the watering can is now held just tenuously.

Penn looks over, looks through the buzz in her brain, the fog in her eyes, to the streets of the city below.

It’s such a long way down for such a short trip. Just a quick step up and over and that’s it. That’s the end.

Her feet begin to move again – she has to go water the plants now - but this time, she’s caught about the waist with strong arms and held tightly to an unyielding chest, a face bursting into view.

It’s Ashton, and Penn thinks that he’s saying her name, and then she realizes that it’s Ashton Ashton will understand Ashton.

Prying her lips open, she manages to speak.

“She’s gone.”

And the look of devastation and concern that crosses his face makes her heart ache, and she just needs a goddamn distraction right now because - who is she fucking kidding - the plants don’t need a goddamn watering right now; it’s fucking pouring.

It’s pouring, and it’s a Tuesday morning, and her grandmother’s dead.

And Ashton’s there, right in front of her, and Penn wanted a distraction, didn’t she?

The watering can clatters on the ground as she loops her arms around his neck and molds her lips to hers, and damn it, he’s going to kiss her back. Penn sucks and licks and nibbles until he gasps, a deep whooshing sound that takes the oxygen from her lungs, and it’s not her leaning over him now, it’s the other way around.

He pushes back, guiding them away from the ledge, all the while responding with a frenzy of soft touches and slick motions, and vaguely she registers his hand on the curve of her arse and, damn, is she ever okay with that.

Penn’s fingers twine in the hair at the nape of his neck and tug, and he gives this deep groan that reverberates in his chest like a rumble, and everything feels so fucking good until he pulls away and starts talking.

No, no. That won’t do at all.

She takes advantage of the moment, pressing her lips against his jawline, leaving flutteringly small kisses, until there’s a gratifying gasp and his hands mouth presence is back, this time sliding under her skin.

Palms press their way up her sides, slowly peeling the wet shirt away from her ribs, and the pads of his fingers set fire to her bones, and what could be so wrong about something that feels this right?

But it’s warm rain cascading down her cheeks now as her grief truly begins to overtake her, and Ashton’s hands turn from fireworks under her skin to soothing, lazy strokes down her spine that remind her of home. Kisses float from intense to gentle pulls at her lips, and he begins to whisper the nonsensical words of a lullaby in her ear as sobs overtake her body.

It’s an implosion, and they both sink to the terrace, his arms cradling her, building her an ark to stay afloat in. Penn’s sure her face looks horrific right now, so she hides it in the shadow of his collarbones, and Ashton rests his chin on the top of her head, fingers rubbing small circles on her back and carding through her soaking wet hair.

It’s just her and him, clutching to rusted anchors from boats long gone out to sea.

[iputmyselfintothenarrative]

We had our chance (Part 5)

Okay, so this is a direct continuation off Part 4, picking up where we last left off. Thank you for your support, I really appreciate every reblog, like and comment. Really, you all are the best! 

Part 1, Part 4, Masterlist, Requests, Askbox

Pairing: Lin x Reader

Summary: Love is like a puzzle, you have to find the right pieces to create the whole picture. But what happens when the pieces are incredibly small and easy to loose?

Warnings: This will contain angst. Not only angst, a little fluff as well, but the ride won’t really be an easy one. ALSO. This one might contain a little NSFW stuff. Nothing to bad, but yeah. You’ve been warned.

Wordcount: 2,631

Tags: @hopeandlovelastlonger (If more people wants a tag, then just tell me and I’d be happy to include you as well.)

-Continuation: August 2013-

You clenched your mouth together and tried to remain as calm and collected as possible. Slowly, you glanced towards Jasmine and Anthony to see if they had noticed it, and judging by the way Jasmine seemed to be looking at their direction, you assumed that they had. When she looked back at you, you instinctively took out your phone to seem distracted, but somehow you had the feeling that they knew you had seen them as well.

“Hey, let’s roast some marshmallows!” Jasmine almost spat out, seemingly trying to lighten the mood a bit. All you really wanted to do was go somewhere and be alone for a bit, maybe have a good cry or so. But this was not the time, nor the place for that. If anyone would see you devastated as a result of previous happenings, it would be completely and totally obvious that you were almost ridiculously in love with him. And for some reason, you didn’t want people to know that, especially not Lin’s friends. So you just plastered a smile on your lips and nodded.

“Yes! Sounds delicious!” You were actually kind of surprised off how unconcerned you managed to sound when answering her. The incredibly forced smile seemed to have worked out as well, since Jasmine joyfully took out the marshmallows and three sticks that someone had prepared beforehand.

“Lin stayed up all night making these. Apparently, he didn’t want to go with some half-assed forest sticks this time. It is almost like he had something to prove!” Jasmine said and handed you one. You accepted it and let your eyes ponder on it for a while. It was not the most beautiful marshmallow sticks in the world, but they were certainly really functional. You glanced to where he had disappeared, but quickly directed your eyes to the fire instead, trying to keep your chill demeanor. When you put the marshmallow on the stick, it reminded you of the night of the campfire. Of course. You felt a small tug at your heart every time you were reminded off him.

Suddenly, you could feel your phone buzzing. Your heart took a leap and you started to breathe quicker as you thought that maybe, MAYBE it could be him. But the disappointment quickly overtook you when you picked it up to check, since the screen revealed the dentist-appointment-reminder you had in two days.

“Hey, Y/N. He will be back soon, I promise.” Jasmine’s voice forced you to look at her, noticing the slight worry in her eyes. You observed her for a few seconds before forcing that same smile again, wanting to keep appearing like you didn’t care.

“Yeah, whatever, he can go have fun, I don’t care.” Hadn’t it been for your lump in your stomach and the feeling of wanting to cry, you would have actually laughed at how unconvincing you sounded. What Jasmine answered, you couldn’t really comprehend since your mind was wandering off, thinking about what he may be doing right now.

He could be stealing a kiss from his girlfriend in the shadow of a tree right now, or even worse. The thought made you nauseous. As you watched your marshmallow getting browner, the feeling of disappointment slowly began to be replaced by annoyance and anger. You hadn’t heard from him in half an hour now. Not even a single small text or a phone call or anything.

If he wasn’t done with her, then why was he sending you all these signals? Sure, he seemed to be the type of guy who treated everyone like they were special, and maybe you had just been overthinking everything, but still? Since even Jasmine and Anthony had noticed that something was going on with the two of you. As always, this had been too good to be true. He was impossible to be that perfect.

As the night progressed, you didn’t hear from him at all, neither did Jasmine nor Anthony. They were sitting tightly together, having finished the bag of marshmallows a long time ago. You had barely eaten one, and didn’t feel like starting on another. They seemed to be having fun despite the worried looks they gave you at times when you were being especially quiet.

Occasionally you would take out your phone and pretend to scroll through some random social media app, when you were actually checking if he had gotten in touch yet. But no, nothing. Trying to fight back a tear, you opened the text app and clicked on your conversation with him. You couldn’t stand feeling this way anymore, so you decided to take the matter into your own hands.

Hey, where did you go? We’re still waiting on that beer, pal ;)

When you proofread the message before sending it, you started to cringe a bit at the “pal” part. It came off as a little too obvious that you were pushing the “heyyyy we’re just friends hehe” agenda, and you decided to delete the last part before you hit send.

The first few minutes of waiting you heart was turning, but as you went another hour without receiving a reply, the nervousness slowly disappeared, being replaced with the same feelings of anger and disappointment as you had experienced before.

You checked the time and nearly gasped when you it showed that it was a quarter past midnight. He had been gone three hours now, and you we’re starting to feel tired. And besides, you didn’t really feel like sitting there and suffer anymore than you had already did. You started to collect your things but as you were about to get up your phone buzzed. Mindlessly you took it out and checked it, expecting anything but a text from him. But this time it was different.

“Hey!! Sorry, I met an old friend and had to talk to them. I will be right there with the beer.” It was from Lin. Not capable of believing that it was actually him that had sent the message, you stared at the screen for a minute while feeling your heart starting to race again. With a quick glance in Anthony and Jasmine’s direction you determined that they hadn’t seen or heard the message coming in.

For the first time in hours, a genuine smile spread across your face as you lifted the phone to respond. But before you could even start typing, another message showed up, also from Lin.

“Um. Actually, could you meet me at the pier instead? I could use some help carrying the beer ;)”

You lowkey wondered why you had to meet him at the pier when the beer was in the car. It was quite the distance, and if he had managed carrying it that far, then why would he need help to bring it the shorter distance from the pier to the fire? Not that it really mattered, though. He had finally responded to you, and according to him, he had only been talking to his girlfriend. You were still not completely willing to accept that as a fact however, since they had been at it for hours, but the happiness his response brought you overshadowed the previous happenings that evening.

“Yes, I’ll be there in a sec. See ya!” your answer was short, but you didn’t feel the need to write something else. As soon as you pressed send you stood up.

“I’m just going to take a walk.” you let them know and headed to the pier. Why you didn’t tell them what you were actually doing you didn’t really know. Maybe it was because you didn’t feel like explaining everything to them, or maybe it was because you didn’t want them to tag along.

As you approached the pier, you could see that he was already standing there with his hands in the pockets of his sweater, causing your heart to skip a beat. But there were no beer bottles at all.

When he saw you, he took out one of his hands and waved at you.

“Hi.” He looked at you, but seemed hesitant to meet your gaze. Actually, his whole demeanor suggested he was nervous, since he kept weighing from side to side, fluxing his elbows.

“Hi! Did you have fun with your friend?” that question was as hard to ask as it could possibly be to receive an answer to. You almost held your breath, expecting a smiley response where he would be all heads-over-heals in love and all. But it didn’t come. Instead he directed his gaze away from you, looking distantly at something far away. He proceeded to shrug his shoulders.

“Not really.” He opened his mouth as to say something more, but seemed to have changed his mouth about it as he quickly closed it again.

He glanced at you.

“We, uh… We hadn’t spoken in weeks.” His words made your heart beat faster and faster. You had seriously no idea of where this was going, making you a bit anxious. You pressed your lips together in an attempt to moisturize them, but to no avail. They seemed to have caught his eyes, however, as his eyes were now wandering between your eyes and your lips.

“Okay?”

“We broke up.” he said, almost interrupting you. He was now looking directly at you, studying your face as if to try to read what your reaction would be. You swallowed a bit of saliva, trying to get some moisture back in your mouth which was now really dry.

“Oh.” You didn’t notice until now that you had crossed your arms in an attempt to shield yourself from what could eventually be coming. But since the news were actually quite good, at least for you if you were being selfish, you slowly lowered them to the sides instead.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nah. It’s okay. It wasn’t really a good relationship to begin with.”

For a moment, you just looked at each other, neither one of you not really knowing what to say.

“So where is the beer? I thought you wanted help with it?” you asked him, looking around to see if he was hiding it somewhere. He wasn’t

Finally, he took out one of his hands from his pockets and started to rub his neck.

“It’s in the car. Sorry.” He was clearly embarrassed, as he was struggling to maintain eye contact with you. You couldn’t help but to smile at him.

“Well, let’s go and get it? Anthony has been waiting a really long time for his beer.” you said with a laugh and turned your back against him, suggesting a direction.

“Yeah!” he responded and took a step forward so that he could walk next to you.

“So did you eat all the marshmallows yet?” he asked with hopefulness in his voice.

“Yes, I’m sorry. Jasmine and Anthony really stuffed their faces, I couldn’t barely get my hand on one! And nice sticks, by the way.”

Your body suddenly tensed as you felt a hand taking yours. You immediately knew that it was his, and that only made you heart beat even faster. You let your fingers intertwine with his, but didn’t have the guts to actually look at him.

“I made them myself! I was up all night!” he said and carefully squeezed your hand.

“I could tell. They worked well despite their looks.” you tried to sound calm and collected, but you could, to your dismay, hear that your voice was trembling a bit. Okay, so you were clearly nervous about the ordeal. Why? It was just handholding, right?

For the first time, it dawned on you that this was the first time the two of you were alone together. For real alone together.

“Don’t you say that! I worked hard on them to make them look beautiful.” he tried to sound offended, but didn’t manage that too well.

“Well, I guess your skills lie elsewhere. Hey, did you know tha-”

You suddenly felt a backwards tug at your arm, as Lin had stopped walking but you hadn’t noticed in time. You stopped as well and looked back at him with a confused expression on your face. He didn’t say anything as he was just looking at you, observing your every move.

And you kind of knew why. This was it. This was really happening. Your chest almost hurt due to your heart beating so fast and you felt yourself starting to shiver. Slowly, he started to pull you closer to him, carefully placing his free hand on your waist. It was dark, so you couldn’t really see his face, but you knew that he was looking right at you, faces only inches from each other.

Wow, you wanted this so bad. There was a part of you that really wanted to run away, but you wouldn’t let your nervousness take this moment away from you.

His hand slowly slid to your back giving it a gentle nudge, but letting you go the rest off the way. It didn’t take much movement from your side, as you were already standing so close. You let your lips brush against his lightly, placing a kiss on his lower lip before fully pressing your lips against his.

Your hand found itself on its way to the back off his head, wanting to tangle itself in with his hair underneath the beanie.

“But… the beer…” you whispered against his lips, feeling his smile grow wider.

“The beer can wait.” he whispered back before resuming to kiss you, hungrier this time. It was clear that he had wanted to do this for a long time. He had not needed any help with the beer at all, this had been the reason for him calling you to the pier alone. The realization brought a smile to your face, hiding behind the kiss. 

Deciding to try and be a bit brave, you deepened the kiss. He latched onto it directly as he suddenly grabbed you a bit harder and started to push you backwards a few steps until you ended up on your back. You felt his weight as he placed himself on top of you, but before commencing, he suddenly broke away from the kiss.

“Hey… You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked quietly, only for you to hear. “Yes, I am sure.” you said, placing your hand on the back off his head and pulling it down to kiss him again.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. How lucky you were that you hadn’t gone home before, otherwise this wouldn’t have happened.

The night was beautiful. The stars lit up the whole sky, and since you were so far away from the nearest city, the artificial lights didn’t spoil anything either.

Your head rested on his chest as you let the sounds of his heartbeat slowly calm you down. He had his chin on the top of your head, shifting between holding you really tightly and stroking the bare skin on your upper arm with his fingers. Yes, the night was cold, but you didn’t notice. You smiled to yourself.

“Lin, I… I have never told anyone I like them before.” you said, hoping that you wouldn’t have to say more. That he would understand and that he would give you his (hopefully positive) response.

“You haven’t?” he sounded a bit surprised, but still reassuring. However, you could feel your smile fading away. You knew that what you were hoping for was a stretch. He wouldn’t just take that as a hint and then start to confess his undying love to you, the world didn’t work that way. But his answer made you feel a bit discouraged so you just closed your eyes and didn’t say anymore. He didn’t mention it.

That could wait. For now, you were just going to enjoy this moment as much as you possibly could.

[twisted-petal]

To Those Who Thought I Died: I Did

This is going to be quite the lengthy one. I have no clue who is even on here, I have not checked, and I do not care; This is just going to be a massive vent post as I have no one to talk to, and the few who know half of this shit are either gone because of it, or I did not like their responses and I do not feel like dealing with more of it. Some of this will also be me trying to convince myself that I’m not as fucked up as I think I am, and that I truly did what I thought was best to avoid confrontation or whatever bullshit that happened.

“2016 was the worst year ever!!” Many people said this, and for me it’s still 2016. Too many thing have happened since the start of last year, up until now, that have completely shattered who I am was. All that work I put into finding myself, creating myself, and nearly coming to accept my existence. Here I am at ground level.

Most of this shit is my fault, and despite what some have told me, I believe I am to blame for every second of every incident - whether I understand it or not. I am supposed to take responsibility for my own problems as an adult, right?

At the start of last year I got incredibly sick from walking to and from work all winter. As much as I hate taking days off, I just could not function, and they barely had me working any days those three weeks, anyway. I took the bite out of my paycheck. Even though my savings from my previous job were meager, I knew I could take it fine enough (so long as there were no emergencies). This sicky tidbit comes into play later.

Around this time I was also (sort of) dating a co-worker - Corey… After spending more money than I am proud to admit to bake him cupcakes from scratch (I had no baking supplies, either) for Valentine’s Day, he tells me he spent the morning with an ex (who he caught getting plowed by her ex, in their home), and that he realized he still had feelings for her, so who would not come to see me. Gee. I wonder what happened. ¬__¬ Maybe it didn’t. Maybe it did. All I know is that I am too nice for my own good, and yes, he is going to be a major topic throughout this post; I accepted him back.

There was a side to him that truly glowed for me, a part of someone I adore, and a part that he (and many others) does not show anyone else. His passions, his past, his fears, and all sorts of dumb shit. Because of this, and the few times he would surprise me with thoughtful action, I endured far more than I should have. I will get into his sexual guilt, later. Maybe… Iunno, just done talking about him for now.

One of the nice things about him was that if I had a hard time walking home, all I needed to do was make him feel bad enough that I was hurting or that it was pouring rain and he would finally pick me up and take me home because he was worried. To avoid more about him…

Almost three years ago I injured myself at an old job and I was never able to the injury checked out or fixed. No Worker’s Comp as my store manager saw me as a liability since there were no cameras, and she believed I wasn’t following the rules; Ironically enough, this was the one day I was following the rules. Longer story short, as this is a post for 2016-present: I slipped on the stool I needed to reach the top of the trailer (solo truck unloader), twisting my ankle, banging my knee on a point of the metal accordion rollers on my way to the trailer floor, landing on the side of my foot, and twisting it a couple more times. I then continued unloading the truck, helped everyone get the U-Boats (weird carts) in their place, and finished my shift stocking what I was assigned. Then stocked my departments the next day. Aaaannnd just kept on working

At my last job, it was a three mile walk to and from, which I started in fall, along with moving in with a friend’s brother (more on that ordeal, later), and with my already bad knees hating the cold, I was now dealing with an ankle that absolutely despised the cold and gave me Hell. Walk to work, stand at the register, stock shelves, arrange inventory (Christmas trees, lights, various decor, plants, soil/mulch, cement bird baths/lawn statues, grills, mowers, lawn furniture/umbrellas, pots, etc.), run carry-outs/help load trucks and shit, cover other departments, push pallets, and other stuff I should have been doing on my ankle, then finally walk home to take care of my bunny boys, maybe eat some noodles while watching Game Grumps, then sleeeeeep.

It is not news to anyone that as known me for very long at all that I do not like to burden anyone; I do not like asking for/accepting help or complaining/making a fuss over things, nor do I like confrontation. I just deal with shit. I do as I’m told. I see to others’ comforts and needs before my own. I am too nice for my own good. Yet somehow, as I’m about to vent/rant/vrent (about), I got kicked out of where I was. I seriously have no clue why! He legit refused to explain. I asked. The entire time I was there he would not tell me a single fucking thing! Such as: late-night parties I would come home to at midnight, leaving town for 3-7 days where I just assumed the role of cat-sitter (nothing new there, and guess what, more on this in a bit), needing any help around the house or financially, letting me know he lost his job (saw unemployment letters while sorting the mail. I get it’s his business, but we live together and I’m there to help?), if I bothered him in any way, or, just… Anything.

Point being: I wouldn’t ask for a ride, and I would frequently turn offers down. When I had my early morning shifts my roommate offered me a couple rides since he was up early anyway, but after a ride or two I started to feel bad as he ended up needing to wake up earlier to take me. There were a few I accepted because they seemed too concerned to deny, and once or twice I called up my roommate due to some shady characters hanging around me after my shift (when I was scheduled late at night).

Honestly, I did what I could to just stay out of his hair… Cleaning the few dishes I used (generally ate noodle cups - more on this rant and more in a sec) immediately or the next day, didn’t mess with his stuff even though he gave me permission on most things, and avoided asking for assistance or favors or asked to borrow anything, and I tried offering things to help out like buying the washer and dryer I had living with an old boyfriend (so he didn’t have to drive to do his laundry and I didn’t have to walk as I felt bad for asking and he wasn’t offering - though a friend drove me to another town to use his…), and getting Food Stamps to help, as per his request.

Now… Originally I suggested we buy a cheap washer and dryer together, to which he would continuously ignore my messages until finally getting upset saying he didn’t want to, so I bought a set myself. I wasn’t about to haul a sack of laundry for a mile, use up a bunch of quarters, and hike it back every week or so, and I thought I was being helpful in offering to help pay, or even pay for it myself (which ended up happening) if he would just check them out with me. Apparently I did wrong? The only explaination I received was that he just didn’t want to, and that then he wouldn’t have an excuse to drive to his brother’s place to play games… Either way, I told him I was getting them and that he could use them if he wished.

As for the food… I kept him up-to-date on the status of my benefits (when I was getting them and how much), and told him if he wanted to get anything to let me know. Whether that be asking to pick things up from work or go on a shopping trip. The only thing that he ever said were complaints that he only ate ramen (which was far from the truth, and how he couldn’t afford food after I was lowering the amount he paid in rent by paying him is beyond me), but he would never ask, and I was tired of reminding him that I had my card and we could get food. … Correction: He asked me to buy supplies for him to make enchiladas for his fu-friend, but I didn’t get the message until my lunch break at 8pm, sooooo I was too late. My bad… Sorry? I would have… I told him I work ‘til midnight…

So for the most part I would eat cheap burgers at McDonald’s (woo! 10% discount! More than my own employers gave me…), ramen, noodle cups, and other microwave stuff here and there, and he seemed to make a lot of rice dishes so I hiked home with a 20# bag of rice and showed him where it was (he never used it). I was saving my benefits for when he finally took the initiative and offers to finally get food. Ended up getting my benefits cut because of this, which is the main reason I started eating more. Even though I felt horrible for eating at home because he never asked! He’s a big boy. I told him I had them and we could get food. I… Ugh! Repeat rant…

The cat… I miss him dearly… He just showed up one day. I exit my room one afternoon, housemate was gone, and there was a small, black kitten staring at me. He became my little buddy… Always greeting me when I got home and begging me to pick him up so he could rub his face on the bill of my hat efore clawing his way to sit on my shoulders. I played with him every day (freaken high energy thing!), and was training him to fetch and other small commands. I’m a dog person… ^^;

His owner neglected him… His (Ninja’s) bowl would be left empty all day… Brief explaination of the day-to-day: Housemate left for work about 4:30 am (I forget when he would get home, as I would usually be working, and he often wouldn’t get home until much later in the day), and I generally left work around 11am (whatever my shift, I was gone at least 12 hours from a full shift and walking). I checked his bowl every morning and night. Sometimes he would have a few bites left and sometimes it was empty. There were a few days where I was in a rush and didn’t have time to fill it. On these days where it was/near empty, I would get home and the bowl would be empty. He informed me early on that his plan was to keep it filled. I kept it filled.

Oh hey! Character limit! XD I’ve barely begun and only know to extend this by making multiple posts… Posting in reverse so hopefully it’s a more seamless read… If read.