gently in the cold dark earth
scum villain's self saving system
word count:Â 2k
canon divergent / no system au; sy transmigrates into an empty npc role; gray lotus binghe loves his shixiong more than life and he's ready to make it everyone's problem
title borrowed from work song by hozier
read on ao3
x
The first thing Luo Binghe does when he escapes the Abyss is return to Cang Qiong Mountain.Â
With Xin Mo secured to his back, the way could be instant if he so choseâthe journey of a thousand miles reduced to a single stepâbut he unsheathes the elegant jian at his hip instead.
Yong Liang sings sweetly for him, the snow white blade still shining and untainted even after years of helping Luo Binghe carve his way through hell. It has never once failed him, soulbound to the one person still on this earth who has never failed him.Â
âTake it,â his shixiong insisted, low and urgent. The Abyss was behind them, an even deadlier threat was ahead, and Without A Cure clogging his meridians made Luo Binghe the best choice to wield the only unshattered spirit sword they had between them. âBinghe, take it.â
He pressed until Luo Bingheâs grip curled tight around the hilt, not hesitating to put his soul in Luo Bingheâs hands even with the rosy glow of an unsealed demon mark shining on his face.Â
Luo Binghe flies at a pace best described as dangerously reckless, hardly smelling the fragrant spring air or feeling the sun on his face. His robes are a disgrace, his hair a tangled, matted mess, and it occurs to him that he could stop somewhere and clean himself up, make himself presentable, but itâs a brief, fleeting thought.Â
Shen Yuan would be furious to find out that Luo Binghe wasted even a single second returning to his side.Â
ââ
He passes through the ancient wards effortlessly, feeling them fall away from him like water. Itâs a simple thing to tamp down on his demonic qi, to disguise the parts of him that those so-called righteous cultivators would scorn. He ghosts through the familiar grounds as eagerly as a starving animal bolting down a fresh game trail, but one by one, all of their familiar haunts come up empty, without even a lingering trace of Shen Yuanâs spiritual energy left behind. Â Â
The head discipleâs room is dusted and undisturbed, as if its occupant might walk through the door at any moment, but the lack of clutter and the empty book shelf makes it very clear to Luo Binghe what the truth must be.
If Shen Yuan returned to the peak after the Conference, he didnât stay.Â
All at once, images crowd the front of his mindâhis shixiong grieving, pulling away, turning his back on those responsible for his heartache.Â
Yue Qingyuan, always only a step behind wherever his precious Xiu Ya sword went, promised that no one wanted to hurt them. They only wanted to help.
He looked so solemn and righteous that Shen Yuan reluctantly allowed himself to be convinced. Luo Binghe, who had gone to the man for help after a bloody whipping when he was a child, only to be given a walnut cake and turned away at the door, knew better.Â
He wasnât surprised when Shen Yuan was wrenched away from him, and shizun sent him staggering off the cliff with a spiritual dagger buried to the hilt in his chest, all of it happening within a matter of secondsâbut it still hurt.Â
Shen Yuanâs scream followed him all the way down.Â
Iâm alive, Luo Binghe thinks, with no one there to tell it to. I came back to you. Let me come back to you.Â
ââ
Including time spent in the abyss, itâs three years before they meet again.Â
Luo Bingheâs revenge is his second priority at best, but he is nothing if not efficient and knows how to kill two birds with the same stone. Huan Hua affords him ample resources and opportunities to scour the world for his missing shixiong while playing the role of earnest and diligent new disciple. He snatches up each mission that comes along as though eager to prove his worth to the sect that so graciously took him in, but he takes every excuse to wander, to search, to make conversation with vendors and innkeepers and passing strangers.Â
Have you seen my heart? It lives outside of me in the form of a beautiful young man and tends to wander. Very contrary, likes to fuss over people, could argue the stripes off a lushu just for fun. Youâd know it if you met it. Youâd never forget.Â
The days blur together, meaningless and gray, but he doesnât stop looking. Shen Yuan still exists somewhere in this world, because otherwise Luo Binghe wouldnât. Itâs the only thing that makes sense. The alternative doesnât bear thinking about.Â
And then, finallyâan afternoon in Jinlan City, when Luo Binghe arrives in a throng of incompetent gold-clad Huan Hua disciples, to investigate a plague of all thingsâ
Heâs there.Â
In dark, neutral colors and plain clothes, a traveling cloak with its hood resting down around his shoulders, as if his beauty could possibly be lessened by cheap, shapeless fabrics rather than effortlessly enhanced. His hair falls from its half-tail in glorious wavesâhe never did have the patience for anything elaborate, only wearing braids when one of his sticky shidimei cajoled and convinced him. Traveling alone, who could he possibly have to roll his eyes at and complain about and sit patiently still for?
A pale green ribbon is all that decorates his hair. Luo Binghe recognizes it instantly.Â
âYou should spend your allowance on yourself, Binghe,â Shen Yuan scolded him, not for the first time and certainly not for the last.Â
âBut I did,â Luo Binghe protested, widening his eyes and clasping his hands earnestly, the way he knew worked best. âI wanted it! And now that I have it, I want to give it to you.â
Shen Yuan was too clever by half to be truly fooled by the innocent act, but he always folded like paper anyway. He spoiled all of his shidimei but Luo Binghe most of all. Anyone on Qing Jing Peak would be hard-pressed to think of a single example of Shen Yuan telling Luo Binghe âno.âÂ
Sure enough, after a second spent visibly wrestling with himself, he blurted, âOh, fine! Hand it over.âÂ
He wore it every day since. Heâs wearing it now. The wind catches the ends of it, sending it streaming behind him like the tails of a paradise flycatcher. Lovely.Â
For a brief moment, Luo Binghe is frozen where he stands, finally faced with the very thing that heâs been missing for years, that heâs been living a miserable half-life without.Â
And then he remembers himself and lurches forward. His voice is a tangle in his throat but he manages to choke out, âShixiong!â
A strike of lightning couldnât have jolted Shen Yuan into more perfect stillness. He stops mid-step, every inch of him as good as carved from precious jade. He doesnât turn his head, and the sliver of his face visible from where Luo Binghe stands is very pale.Â
Luo Binghe wonders suddenly if this has happened to him beforeâif Shen Yuan has heard a voice on the road or in the market that was almost familiar, that was almost the one he was hoping for, only to be disappointed when he turned to follow it and found a stranger.Â
Luo Binghe shortens the distance between them with a few anxious steps and tries again.Â
âShixiong.â
The older boy whirls around abruptly, as if to get it over with. Heâs bracing himself, but Luo Binghe barely has a second to absorb Shen Yuanâs painful-looking anticipation before it bleeds out of his face in favor of something else entirely.Â
He looks like the earth has fallen out from beneath his feet, like he hardly dares to believe his eyes. Zheng Yang gleams golden at Shen Yuanâs hip, reforged and whole again.
âBinghe?â Â
âItâs me,â Luo Binghe says softly.Â
Thereâs a tableau heâs afraid to break, as if theyâre in a delicate dreamscape and a move too sudden or loud might dissolve it. He wants to say Iâve missed you the way lungs miss air, immediately and needfully, I havenât breathed at all since weâve been apart. He wants to say youâre my light in the dark, I can only stand in front of you now because I love you too much to ever truly leave you.Â
Instead, he tells his dearest friend, âThis one made you wait. But your Binghe is here.â
Shen Yuan sprints the rest of the way to meet him, almost before heâs even finished talking, and they collide in a solid embrace that knocks the air from them both.Â
His arms wind around Luo Bingheâs waist like steel bands, fingers digging into the back of his robes, precious face pressed into the crook of his neck and shoulder. Luo Binghe doesnât hesitate to gather him up close, holding him as tightly and securely as he knows how, burying his nose in his shixiongâs hair and breathing in the familiar, beloved smell of him. Â
Shen Yuan is a few inches shorter than he remembers. All the better to tuck him beneath Luo Bingheâs chin, to cover and surround him so completely that not even the heavens above can get a decent eyeful.Â
He wants to grab and bite and pin Shen Yuan beneath him and never let go. His jaw aches with wanting it.Â
âIâve been looking for you,â Luo Binghe says, eyes wet. âI went home first.â Unsaid goes the obvious but you werenât there.Â
âHow could I stay?â Shen Yuan bites out, managing to sound all at once strangled and bewildered andâcharminglyâoffended. He shakes his head without lifting it, an aggressive nuzzle against Bingheâs shoulder. âAfter what they did to you, Iâd rather die than represent their stupid sect another minute.â
âStep away from it, Shen Yuan,â shizun said coldly. âIâll put that beast back where it belongs.â
âNo,â shixiong said in a voice that was smaller than usual, one that shook. He was frightened, clearly overwhelmed, but he didnât budge from where he was plastered in front of Luo Binghe like a breathing shield.Â
âNow.âÂ
âNo, shizun.â
âShizhi,â Yue Qingyuan said gently, offering his hand. âCome here. It will be alright.â
Shen Yuan said, âNo. You canât hurt Binghe. Heâs not bad just because of who his parents are. Heâs as good as he was yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. Heâs hardworking and loyal and a sweetheart to anybody who gives him half a chance. Heâs so good.â
Liu Qingge was behind the sect leader, sword drawn. Shen Qingqiu was quickly losing what little patience he had, face twisted into a sneer, dark eyes stabbing hatefully at Luo Binghe from over his head discipleâs shoulder. There were more figures rapidly drawing closer, the other peak lords following the flare of Yue Qingyuanâs qi. The standoff was becoming more and more untenable, and Shen Yuan was too smart not to see that, shrinking back against Luo Binghe as much as he could without crowding him closer to the edge.Â
âYou canât hurt him,â he said again, the closest Luo Binghe had ever heard him come to tears, âheâs my shidi.â
Luo Binghe is unsurprised by his shixiongâs loyalty, because itâs already been proven to him over and over. Itâs unremarkable at this point, which is an absolutely remarkable thing in itself. It makes him feel warm with gratitude and affection and ownership.Â
Shen Yuan is clever and quick on his feet and always three steps ahead, more knowledgeable about flora and fauna than anyone else Binghe has ever known combined, and probably a force to be reckoned with as a rogue cultivator, where the only rules of conduct he has to adhere to are his own.Â
But Luo Binghe hates to think of him on the road alone, without the little martial siblings who follow him like ducklings, without his Binghe there to make sure he remembers to eat all his meals and comb out his hair before bed. Heâs a creature of comfort, made for airy rooms with too many cushions and an abundance of sweets and books to read.Â
Luo Binghe has fantasized more than once about building a home for Shen Yuan to lounge prettily in. It was, in fact, his favorite flavor of daydream since he was about thirteen.Â
If Shen Yuan wants to rogue cultivate, then thatâs what theyâll do. But Luo Binghe thinks, if he constructs a palace thatâs as comfortable as it is grand, and fills it with trashy romance novels and obscure beasts and his own hand-made meals, he can convince his friend to live in it with him.
Shen Yuan needs to be taken care of. Luo Binghe needs to be the one taking care of him. Theyâre together now and theyâll never be apart again and those needs can both be met.Â
That possessive, proprietary feeling coils dark and deep inside him, undulating lazily like a serpent whoâs fed enough for days, reminding him over and over what he already knows:
Mine.Â
200 notes
·
View notes
Been over here trying& failing to understand how this hotel is charging $500+ per night for a room like mineâŠ
73 notes
·
View notes
Against my better judgement I'm watching more of the 2016 ppg reboot and lemme tell you something. I HAAAAAAATE the way they write Utonium I HATE IT!!!
But sometimes there'll be a little moment here or there where he's kinda...cute > ^ <
16 notes
·
View notes
having boyf thoughts but not being able to articulate them into words so i'm just gonna *screams into a pillow* /pos
2 notes
·
View notes
I came across an "I redraw your art" video on YouTube and it legit made me sad idk...
5 notes
·
View notes
About that 18th episode of Masterforce.... The good thing is that Minerva didn't end up like Movieverse Jazz. Yikes
LMAO YEA TRUE (rip jazz tho đđ€đ„)
A harrowing experience but luckily, we can actually thank Sixknight for that!
ALSO RELATED, THEYRE SO FUCKING TINY COMPARED TO HIM OH MY GODDD đâšâšâš (edit: I've added an episode summary in the tags idk but anyone who sees and reads it tysm đ„șâ€ïž)
-Kuni :3
5 notes
·
View notes
I'm not jealous (I just want to crash her face)
It took time anon, but here you are! You can find the request here đ
I hope it was what you had in mind :)
In this world, Alexia knees are perfectly fine and I want to live here.
TW : Jealousy, angst
______________________________________________________________
Despite the difficulties your teammates face because of the Spanish federation, you are still happy to find yourself in training camps. This means that, for once, you find yourself alongside your friends and not facing her, you who has been one of the pillars of Real Madrid for many years. You have done all your formation at Madrid and you feel perfectly well in this team, even if we must be honest and admit that FC Barcelona dominates you head and shoulders.
Even if you are enemies in the field, you get along perfectly well with almost everyone. So you are more than happy to find Mariona, Ona, Cata, Aitana and of course Alexia. For your part, you join the training camp with Olga, Athenea and Misa, with whom you also get along very well. Itâs been a while now that social networks are seeing you as a couple with Olga and make a lot of clips and video about booth of you. And your friends tease you a lot with it. Whether itâs your teammates in Madrid or your friends in Barcelona.
In truth, you have never hidden your sexuality and the jokes and innuendo you make about it on social networks are multiple.
Thereâs finally only one person that this fabricated relationship doesnât amuse, and thatâs your real girlfriend. Who is no one but Alexia Putellas herself.
People are far from suspecting the nature of the feelings you share, it must be admitted that the fact that you live in Madrid and Alexia in Barcelona probably helps a lot. Even most of your teammates arenât aware, thereâs really only Ona and Aitana, who caught you in an intense kissing session against a wall supposed to be hidden from view at the last Classico. You made them swear not tell anyone, and you know your secret is safe with those two. However, this doesnât prevent them from teasing Alexia on the subject, according to the complaints from the blonde when you call each other at night.
You are a little disappointed to learn that you share your room with Olga, secretly hoping to be with Alexia but the latter ends up with Aitana. Maybe the brunette will agree to let you change, but Olga should be given a valid explanation. Which will have to be pretty good since the latter is the one of those you are closest to in Madrid, even if she does not know the reality of the nature of your relationship with Alexia.
"Donât make that face, Y/N" laughs Cata as you pout when you get your magnetic cards.
"Iâll never get rid of this one" you joke and give Olga a playful hip kick.
"Oi, a little respect please!"
Your answer and Olgaâs make others laugh around you, but you can only see Alexiaâs tense face behind the others. This expression is accentuated when Olga takes you by the arm to go and get your room at the end of the corridor. When you turn around while Olga opens the door, you no longer see Alexia.
"I think Iâm going to take a nap" says Olga by dropping on her bed after you put your things away.
"You have marmot blood, Olga, I swear"
The player mumble you a vague answer in return but seems already half asleep when her face met her cushion. You take the opportunity to take out your phone and write a message to Alexia.
From You
Olga's sleeping, where are you?
From Ale đ
In my room
From You
Can I come?
From Ale đ
Why? Not enjoying your time with your girlfriend? đ
From You
Ale please stop
I miss you đ
From Ale đ
Jenni's here
You answer nothing, a little annoyed by this information. If Alexia canât stand the presence of Olga at your side, you have a hard time with the idea that Alexiaâs ex-girlfriend could spend more time with her than you. You throw your phone on the bedside table, waking Olga on the other bed.
"Donât be so noisy god" mumbles Olga, before turning around and falling asleep again quickly.
You roll your eyes and sigh as you put your arm behind your head. Eyes fixed on the ceiling, you let your mind fly towards the few escapades that you had with Alexia. You didnât post anything on social media that would suggest it, but you spent the holidays together before you had to go back to Madrid, Alexiaâs family welcoming yours so you could be together.
"What are you thinking? I hear your brain smoking from here"
You take a surprised look at Olga, whom you thought was asleep. But you shrug your shoulders and sigh softly again.
"Nothing. Iâll go explore the hotel I think"
You get up and put on your tap shoes before heading for the door.
"Iâm coming with you" Olga yawns as she stretches.
You wait for her to reach you patiently, before going for a walk in the corridors. You end up meeting Ona, Laia, Eva and Lucia who settled in a room with a TV and a game console. They seem to be thrown into an intense Mariokartâs Game, with Eva trying to knock Ona out of her seat to prevent her from finishing first again.
Considering that this is a great way to change your mind, you sit with them, watching them play. When Lucia arrives last for the fourth time in a row, she gives you her controller, swearing. Laia proposes to Olga to play too and you find yourself stuck between Ona and Olga, deciding to separate Eva and Ona to avoid any cheating between the two.
You are joined by several other teammates while waiting for dinner, but no sign of Alexia, Jenni or Aitana. You realize a little too late that you forgot your phone in your room, but youâre a little lazy to go back up and look for it.
At dinner, you manage to sit next to Alexia on a bench, facing Misa and Mariona. If the conversation is light and lively, you feel chills running through you when Alexiaâs leg sticks against yours. Itâs been a few weeks since youâve seen each other and youâre still so addicted to her touch.
"Fancy to see you without Olga" mumbles Alexia, taking advantage of the absence of Misa and Mariona gone to look for a dessert.
"I could tell you the same thing about Jenni" you answer in the same tone, before finishing your glass of water.
You take a look at her, realizing sheâs already watching you. She seems thoughtful and reflective, but this doesnât prevent you from blushing and turning your eyes away under the intensity of her gaze.
"Stop looking at me like that" you sigh softly.
"Like what?"
"Like youâre gonna rip my clothes off in two seconds"
Alexia answers nothing and just smirke at you maliciously. You canât continue this conversation for very long because your two table companions are already coming back to you.
"Meet me outside my room door at 10:30 p.m."
********
Youâre on time in front of Alexiaâs room, hidden under the hood of your sweater. You are nervous, the blonde seems to be late and if a member of the staff catches you outside your room at this time, you will take ten laps of the field in addition to everyone the next morning. Besides, it would mean that you couldnât enjoy the stolen moments with Alexia, which youâre desperately waiting for.
Fortunately, the door eventually opens a few minutes later and Alexia grabs your hand to take you to another room.
"How did you get the card from another room?" you whisper watching her open it.
But Alexia just smiles and winks at you before she lets you into the room. She closes the door gently behind her before turning to you.
"Finally" you whisper against her lips when she kisses you.
You feel her smile against your lips, her muscular arms passed around your waist. After a few kisses, you put your arms around her neck to bury your face in her hair, closing your eyes, seeking to make the most of the feeling of comfort she gives you.
"Come lie down" whispers Alexia after a few minutes in this position, taking your hand back to take you to the bed.
You let yourself fall on the mattress you bounce on, laughing when Alexia decides to jump on you instead of lying next to you. Passing a leg around her thighs, you roll yourself to find yourself above her.
"Hello you" you smile maliciously, your face only a few centimeters from hers.
You lean to kiss her, but it was not knowing Alexia well to imagine that she would not try to regain the advantage. After having addressed you a mischievous smile, she makes you turn again so that you find yourself under her, your hands imprisoned in hers at the height of your face.
"Better this way"
You donât have time to answer before her lips are on yours again and honestly, you donât care who won or not your little game. You take advantage of this moment to exchange many kisses and discuss a little, everything and nothing. Lying face to face, you play with her fingers while admiring her, listening to her tell you the latest love adventures of her little sister.
When you find yourself lying on her, your ear on her heart, you have to struggle not to fall asleep. His heart rate lulls you and you feel your eyelids become particularly heavy.
"Donât fall asleep mi Amor" Alexia whispers. "We have to go back to our rooms"
You moan as you hear her, burying your face against her. You have absolutely no desire to leave the comfort and warmth of her arms.
"We can stay here"
Alexia has a small sigh and you know very well that it is not possible. But what would you give to be able to sleep with her tonight. It is therefore with regret that you take off from her, not being able to mask the displeasure that it gives you.
"Donât make that face" Alexia says, imprisoning your chin between her thumb and index finger.
"Sorry" you mumble without looking at her.
Alexia doesnât let go until your eyes are in hers, which takes a few seconds. It gently kisses each of your cheeks, nose and lips before resuming speech.
"Weâll try to find a longer time just the two of us. Okay? I miss you too"
"Yeah"
You shiver when she lays kisses along your jaw but your breath cuts when you feel her imprisoning your skin between her lips and biting her. Itâs easy for Alexia to make you lose track of things and when you realize sheâs leaving a mark on your skin, itâs too late.
********
Of course your teammates notice your hickey. It didnât last five minutes after you separated from your hoodie so that Misa and Sandra saw it, both teasing you so much that soon the whole team knows. If Alexia initially seems to find this very amusing, you see her face tense when Eva teases you again.
"Weâre going to have to ask you and Olga not to be in the same room if you canât behave yourself"
Olga, who was drinking, almost chokes with her water and itâs finally Aitana who flies to your rescue.
"Leave them alone for two seconds. Youâre worse than the fans youâre complaining about."
After that, you find yourself being trained by Aitanaâs arm as a training partner and you are grateful to her. On the other hand, you do not miss the inquisitive look of Olga or the withdrawn air of Alexia.
"Youâre in a lot of trouble" said AItana, starting the stretching exercises.
"Donât tell me about" you mumble
At the end of the training, as you wisely return to the changing rooms to wash a minimum before lunch, you feel that you are grabbed by the arm to train in a corner of the corridor. You were hoping to see Alexia, but you find yourself in front of Olga.
"I havenât said anything so far Y/N, because youâre my friend and Iâm trying to protect you. But I think I deserve to know who did this to you"
She puts a finger on your hickey, making you shiver with pain.
"Ouch" you grimace by pushing her hand sharply, frowning.
"Everyone thinks itâs me, but you and I know very much that itâs not me. Who is it?"
You hesitate for a split second, the guilt of what you are doing to your best friend crushing you during this time.
"Iâm sorry" you sigh softly as you put a hand on her arm. "I didnât think it would turn against you like that."
"I donât care, I can do it for you. But I just want to know who I need to protect."
"What are you doing?"
You suddenly jump when you hear the voice of Jenni Hermoso ringing behind you, retreating a few steps away mechanically. If the brunette has an amused look at you, Alexiaâs green eyes throw flames.
"Nothing" you sigh softly as you roll your eyes.
Jenni being unable to hold her tongue, most of the entire team is quickly aware that her and Alexia have supposedly surprised you two on the verge of kissing in a hallway of the stadium. At the end of the afternoon, your nerves are so tense that you want to hit your head on the ground.
"Iâm not with Olga!" you end up yelling at Misa and Jenni, losing your last nerves. "Leave me alone now, thatâs enough."
You cross the football field with big strides, joining Ona who welcomes you with a sorry smile. You have two advantages to being with her, to begin with she is aware of the truth of your relationship and then you know that she will not ask you any questions.
"Alexia looks tense" sighs softly Ona when you are divided into four teams for a games tournament.
Your eyes are mechanically focused on your girlfriend who seems to have avoided you all afternoon and you see that each of her muscles looks tense. Maybe because sheâs on the same team as Olga. Your bestfriend seems surprised by the cold and distant behavior of your captain, even if you quickly understand why.
But Alexia finds herself talking to her badly, even refusing to pass her while she finds herself several times well placed to score. Itâs as subtle as your hickey and you soon notice the surprised and questioning looks your teammates exchange.
"She will make us discover" you sigh to Ona who, like you, noticed Alexiaâs behavior.
"Would that be disturbing?" asks you Ona with curiosity.
"No" you finally answer after a few seconds of hesitation.
Itâs not you who wants to keep your relationship private, but Alexia. Her reasons are however perfectly understandable and if things were reversed you would probably do the same. If Alexia wants your relationship to be hidden, itâs to protect you and prevent you from getting threatening messages, messages that arenât necessarily nice either. You appreciate being recognized for your football and not the person you love. Thatâs what you discreetly explain to Ona, before being interrupted by your trainers.
"Ona, Y/N, stop two seconds your flirting and please focus"
"Iâm going to lose my nerve" you mumble to Ona who squeeze your Arm in a comforting gesture.
Youâre particularly bad at this practice, missing goals that your grandmother would have managed to put in the back. At the end of the training, you and Alexia are caught apart by your trainers. You to refocus on the real reasons youâre here if you want to play in the next game and Alexia to behave better with Olga. Eyes down and cheeks red, you mumble excuses before heading straight to your hotel room.
"At least now, I know who it is" Olga points out when she finds you in your room.
You groan in your beard, taking your phone in your hand when you hear it vibrate on the bedside table.
Ale đ
I canât do this anymoreâŠ
You
Do what?
Us?!
Ale đ
No! God, not us mi Amor, obviously
I just can't stand people thinking you're in love with Olga
It makes me sick
You
Well I think she saw it today, you've been pretty mean to her đ
And you know what I think about it, Ale. I know you meant to protect me but I am strong enough to deal with the eventual shit the fans will say about me. And you'll be there for me, no?
Ale đ
Of course I will. Can I come to your room to talk? I hate texting
You
Olga's here actually
Ale
Well at least I can excuse myself for my behavior? đ
********
Alexia actually joined you in your room, flatly apologizing to Olga who naturally accepted. She took the opportunity to ask you a few questions before leaving the room so that you can discuss your relationship in privacy. You and Alexia decided to finally stop hiding, but at the end of the camp. Your hidden couple has already caused enough incidents like this.
A few days later, you play your match against Sweden. An important match, requiring a victory on your part if you want to guaranteed qualification. You are part of the starting eleven, like is Alexia. Just like Olga, Aitana and Ona. You are as often a little nervous before the start of the game, not being able to stop yourself from jumping on the spot before enteront to the field. Irene wearing the captainâs armband for today, Alexia is standing behind you and you feel her hand resting on your shoulder.
You donât have to exchange words when your eyes meet, you smile at her and she smiles back at you. And thatâs enough. Obviously, the exchange isnât missed by some of your teammates, but finally you donât care. The fact that Alexia no longer wants you to hide makes you much happier than you imagined.
The match is tense, neither of the two teams managing to find the way to the nets despite your many attempts. A few yellow cards were handed out during the game to try to keep a clear mind. Sweden was on the verge of scoring several times, but fortunately Cata made some great saves. Just like Zecira Musovic in front of you.
"Come on, weâll end up scoring!" repeats Alexia, continuing to encourage her team.
Itâs in fact the team of Sweden which has the next opportunity, Lina Hurtig running towards the goal of Cata after a fault not whistled on Ona. You find yourself on the other side of the field but makes your speed speak to try to catch her. You gain ground quickly, Hurtig being at the end of the race. She manages to strike, but you throw yourself in front of the ball so that it doesnât take the direction of the goal. You feel the ball bouncing off your back to the other side. What you hadnât thought of was that the Swedish playerâs cleats came into contact with your face.
The pain is immediate and your hands on your face when you fall on the floor.
"Y/N!"
Among all the exclamations, you only hear Alexiaâs voice far away from you. However, itâs Cata who is first towards you, turning you on your back and trying to remove your hands from your face.
"Call the doctors!" scream Olga as she sees the blood blushing your fingers.
Her voice tells you that she is so close to you and you hear Hurtig apologizing at full speed in English, certifying that it was absolutely not wanted. You know that, of course.
The experienced hands of a nurse take hold of your hands so that they can see your face and the lights of the stadium partially blind you. You see Olgaâs blurry face and Cataâs just behind, but theyâre not the ones you want to see.
"Alexia?"
"Iâm right here Bebita"
You feel her kneel next to you after a second of hesitation and take your hand.
"Howâs Ona?" You ask when you remember the brunette on the floor, looking for a topic of discussion so as not to think about what the doctors are doing to you.
"Iâm fine"
You turn your eyes towards the voice, smiling softly as you see that she actually seems to be fine. You then shift your attention to Alexiaâs worried face and you donât take your eyes off her, except when asked to follow the flashlight light.
"It seems to be fine. However, you must protect your face if you donât want to have stitches"
You pout but donât flinch. Alexia helps you stand up and insists on accompanying you to the touchline, her arm tightly tightened around your waist. You lock your eyes in hers when she gently puts her hand on your cheek before smiling. Two seconds later, she returns to the field to resume the game and you find yourself facing a smiling nurse.
"Come on, Casanova, close your eyes."
You end up winning the game thanks to a goal from Jenni in the last minutes. At the end of the Game, you find yourself in front of Hurtig who apologizes again and again, re-explaining that she never tried to hurt you.
"I know" you smile as you squeeze her shoulder with your hand in a comforting gesture. "But really, itâs okay. I wonât even have stitches apparently"
You donât see Alexia approaching you, but that doesnât prevent her from sliding an arm around your waist again without interrupting your discussion. You willingly let yourself go against her, gently pressing your head on her shoulder for a few moments. You donât miss Linaâs surprised look, but she apologizes to join her teammates when Ona and Olga join you.
"Jenni is not going to be able to stop teasing you, you know that, right?" Olga laughs. "Everyone understood now"
Alexia smiles and shrugs. When you look up at her, she smiles at you. And you tell yourself that if Alexia keeps smiling at you like that to the rest of your life, youâre ready to bear all the teasing in the world.
784 notes
·
View notes
old money ~ george russell
instagram au
synopsis: Y/N and George are everyone's favorite couple, and everyone seems to think they just scream old-money romance
my masterlist
âĄâĄâĄâĄâĄ
liked by lilymhe, landonorris and 2,194,176 others
yourinsta i love life with you đ€
tagged: georgerussell63
view all 483,957 comments
georgerussell63 i love you
yourinsta i love you more
landonorris why
yourinsta why not
landonorris we're sick of seeing your cute couple photos đ
yourinsta not my fault
user1 they are so old-money coded i can't- đ„Čđ„Č
user2 Y/N is the definition of perfect, George is so lucky
user3 they're so classy đ©đ©
alex_albon looking good
georgerussell63 always mate
user4 will Y/N be at the next Grand Prix?
yourinsta i will ! đ„°
user3 MOTHER IN THE PADDOCK đ©đ©
francisca.cgomes i can't wait to see you !!!! đ€đ€
yourinsta me too!! â€ïž
user4 the friendship we didn't know we needed
f1gossippofficial we love seeing you guys!
liked by yourinsta
user5 her style is to die for
user4 for real, she is so classy and elegant all the time
user5 and she is so sweet too. i met her at a grand prix a while back and she was so happy just talking to me and stuff. even got george to sign my hat for me, she is so kind
user3 she sounds like such a nice person to be around
user6 would she accept friendship bracelets from us?
yourinsta i do !!! i have a collection at home, bring them to me and we can exchange them !! <3
user6 omg đđđđ you just made my day
liked by yourinsta, lewishamilton and 3,913,756 others
georgerussell63 Back to work đȘđ»
view all 832,579 comments
yourinsta ooof, who's this handsome lad? đ©
yourinsta so proud of you
yourinsta i love you â€ïž
georgerussell63 i love you too, baby đ€
user1 not Y/N being just as unhinged as us in the comments
landonorris thank you for sparing us
yourinsta i will hit you đ
georgerussell63 i'll do it for you, babe
landonorris please don't
oscarpiastri why is Lando so scared of you all of a sudden, George?
yourinsta it's me he should be scared of
oscarpiastri got it
georgerussell63 you heard her
user2 such a good weekend for George â€ïžâ€ïž
user3 Y/N was there to be his lucky charm, he did so good đ„čđ„č
user4 i want what they have, i need to know what their love feels likeđ„čđ©đ©đ©
alex_albon did Y/N take these photos?
georgerussell63 she did. why?
alex_albon i was just appreciating the first good photos of yours that i have seen
yourinsta don't be mean alex
user5 Y/N to the defense, we love to see it
landonorris surprised you didn't pose shirtless
georgerussell63 y/n wouldn't let me
yourinsta damn right, those abs are for my eyes onlyđ
landonorris i didn't need to know that
yourinsta why did you leave a comment then?
landonorris i don't even know anymore
user6 where can i buy myself a George?
yourinsta you'll find them for free in King's Lynn
user6 she responded, i'm gonna cryđđđ
liked by yourinsta, yourbff and 94,286 others
f1gossippofficial Fan favorite grid couple, George Russell and Y/N Y/L/N, looking as good as always during the afterparty of the Singapore Grand Prix.
tagged: yourinsta and georgerussell63
view all 16,285 comments
user1 they are so old money, i swearđđ©
user2 Y/N is so stunning, George really hit the jackpot with herđ©
yourbff gorgeous, my favorite old-money couple
yourinsta not you as well đ
user3 existing at the same time as them should be considered a blessing
user2 amen to that
user4 i wonder if the old-money aesthetic comes naturally or something
user5 probably, apparently Y/N actually comes from a very old-school rich family
user4 really? she's really down-to-earth and humble for someone who comes from a rich background
user5 she's always wanted to make a name for herself without using her family's money, apparently
user2 we love an independent queen
liked by yourbff, landonorris and 2,382,470 others
yourinsta little getaway with my love â€ïž
tagged: georgerussell63
view all 938,172 comments
georgerussell63 spending time with you is my favorite thing to dođ€
yourinsta i love youđ«¶đ»
landonorris i thought you were going to stop this
yourinsta just get a life lando đ
georgerussell63 i agree with her, mate
francisca.cgomes you two are soooo cute !!!! â€ïžâ€ïž
yourinsta not cuter than you and pierre my love !!
georgerussell63 yes, we are. sorry pierregasly
pierregasly in your dreams, brit
user1 they are my roman empire
user2 WHY ARE THEY SO CUTE OMFG đ©đ©đ©
user3 why can't i have what they haveđđ
alex_albon you two look like you just stepped out of a novel or something
yourinsta thank you alex, that is very kind of you to say
georgerussell63 so we basically look like book characters?
alex_albon yes
yourinsta georgie, it's a good thing, don't worry
georgerussell63 ooh, got it
lilymhe alex won't do this with me :(
yourinsta UNACCEPTABLE !!!
alex_albon you haven't even mentioned anything???????
yourinsta you're supposed to read her mind, alex
alex_albon ...you are both killing me
liked by yourinsta, alex_albon and 3,284,927 others
georgerussell63 kind of seeing where the trend comes from
tagged: yourinsta
view all 834,271 comments
yourinsta we're dominating pinterest right now
georgerussell63 as we should
yourinsta that's the attitude babe
alex_albon noooooo, now i can't make fun of you two with this anymore :(
georgerussell63 sucks to suck
alex_albon did y/n tell you to say that?
yourinsta no comment.
user1 they are finally embracing it
mercedesamgf1 we love you two â€ïž
yourinsta we love you too, merc admin â€ïž
georgerussell63 â€ïž
user2 they get classier and classier every time they post â€ïžâ€ïž
user3 i want this
francisca.cgomes you two are goals â€ïž
yourinsta i love you !! â€ïž
liked by francisca.cgomes
yourinsta i love you, sweet boy
georgerussell63 i love you more, my sweet girl
user4 you guys are killing us
formula1wags she is the best wag on the grid, nobody can change my mind
user2 this
user3 facts
user1 she really is
comments and re-blogs help us grow!
much appreciated!!
JOIN MY TAG LIST HERE
REQUEST HERE
âĄâĄâĄâĄâĄ
Tag list: @outerudeth @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @dardouni @saturnssunflower @moony-artemis @blissfulsunsetstuff @samantha-chicago @nikfigueiredo @therealcap @iloveyou3000morgan @daemyratwst @rqlstefanny @bwormie @hangmandruigandmav @kagome45 @enidsinclairaddamsthesecond @tallrock35 @sesamepancakes @boywondrgrayson @evlkking @evie-119 @ijustwanttoreadlols @cixrosie @poppyflower-22 @hiireadstuff @ellouisa17 @paintedbypoetry @hellowgoodbye @lpab @xlinxdax0704 @decafmickey @teti-menchon0604 @ctrlyomomma @sya-skies @likedbygaslyy @booksandflowrs @acidburnsthings @dhanihamidi @mynameisangeloflife @5starl1ght @teamnovalak @ferrarisfailedstrats @basicuniter @jxnellat
727 notes
·
View notes
The Fisherman's Wife | Oneshot
no-outbreak!AU, no-Ellie!AU (đ), (basically it's pretty much devoid of anything canon, I'm sorry đ I just was desperate to see Joel as a fisherman.)(also don't ask what time-period this is set in i have no clue)
pairing: fisherman!Joel, soft!Joel x afab!fem!Reader
content: arranged marriage, angst, fluff, smut.
summary: The free-spirited Reader is arranged to marry a divorced Fisherman named Joel Miller. And although she protested this at first, she soon wonders if maybe she could be happy with her new husband.
word count: 28.2k (yeesh)
warnings: NSFW 18+ - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. mentions of death, age-gap (reader is 27, Joel is 48), smut - oral (f receiving and m recieving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex, reader is inexperienced (meaning loss of virginity), lovesick Joel, and not beta'd! (if i left anything out please let me know :))
(oh and an obscene use of Y/N bc i write in third person đ©)
Ao3 Link
A/N: Hiii~!!! so usually I write fics for a completely different realm of content. but I haven't been able to continue my most recent fic bc this idea has been stuck in my mind for fricken weeks!!! and it wouldn't get out of my head until i actually wrote it down. TLOU has just been on my brain constantly these days i guess đ (đ„°). anyways i thought i'd write it, post it here, and then disappear back into my usual corner of the internet, never to be seen again đ. i hope you enjoy my story!! ILY <3
Far out from the rainy coast of the Pacific Northwest, sat a small island, always caught in the throes of an aimless sea. It was called the Isle of Ardor. Named after the burning passion of love. It was a peculiar name for the island, as it was always embedded within dark, curling swirls of stormy rain clouds; As well as the sour emotions that came with the stormâ provided, of course, by the residents of this Isle. So the island was often left without the feeling of love. Neglected, for lack of any other words. Far from the symbol of love that was known by the world.Â
Sure, there was the love that was bestowed by marriage, when a man first sets his sight on his arranged lover dressed in white. Or even love passed between a parent and a child, when a mother first hears the first laugh that tumbles out of her sweet childs lips. Or the fumbling platonic love that creates itself in whispered secrets during sleepovers between friends. But none of it was burning. None of it was passionate. It was a simple form of love. A perfect representation of the simple life that was often led on the Isle of Ardor. Despite its exciting name.Â
A more fitting name would perhaps be something more simple. Unembellished. Basic. Ordinary. Sturdy. Something to match the uniform march of the adults in this town, as they traveled along the cobblestone roads in early morning light. Headed towards their humdrum jobs that kept the economy of this island churning like a slow cog in the machine. Meanwhile, the children were taught about this monotonous life in school. Sat rigid in their seats, the stiff collar of their uniform scratching at their necks. Forced to listen, forced to learn that there was only one path for them to take. All signs pointed, roads led and everything suggested that these childrenâ Just as their parents, and their grandparentsâ were destined for a life of simplicity.Â
It was the exact opposite of what Y/N wanted. She abhorred the idea of simple. She wanted excitement. Yearned for passion. Craved the burn of love that left scars on your heart and bruises on your lips.Â
Her wants and desperate needs were proven in the way she grew up. There wasnât a day that went by where she wouldnât step out of line. Her wrists would be sore from the snap of her teacher's ruler. Her ears would grow tired of the constant reprimand from her father. And her knees would bleed freely from the times she would escape the horrid monotony of life, out into the nature beyond. But the island was small, and her feet could only take her so far, so she would always easily be caught. She would return home with her sore wrists, tired ears and bloody knees, and sit by her bedroom window, hoping for something greater to take her away.Â
It never came.
Eventually, she grew older. She matured, and she learned how to stay in line. For the most part. But as she aged, her tongue grew sharper with wit, and she soon often got in trouble for using words that could rival a sailorâs. By the time she was of marriageable age, no one on the island wanted anything to do with her. This all of course was to the dismay of her father. Who at this point thought that he would never be rid of his rambunctious daughter.Â
He loved her with all of his beating heart, of course. But on the Isle of Ardor, all fathers wanted the same thing for their daughters. By the age of eighteen, they wanted their girls to find a satisfactory suitor to take care of them so that the fathers didn't have to worry as they faded into their old age.Â
By now, all of Y/Nâs classmates were already married. While at the age of twenty-seven due to her wild nature, no one had brought any offers to their household for her hand in marriage. Her father grew weaker and weaker as worry settled into his bones.Â
Y/N on the other hand was ecstatic by her lack of prospects. Being a spinster meant she didnât have to worry about some silly husband, wife or partner she didnât truly care about. If people thought she was crazy? So be it. It was all worth it for the price of her freedom.
And now as she had no other burden brought on by school or a job, she would oftentimes be found by the raging ocean. Her toes deep in the blackened sand, skin salted by the sea and her hair tangled by the mischievous winds. And this is exactly where she was the minute she found out about the news that would tear her world apart.
Her father had found her a suitor.
The news was brought to her by the young messenger boy who would carry the most recent word of mouth with him on his rusty bicycle. Her father had flagged him down, offering a bill or two to find his daughter and bring her home immediately to meet the man she was destined to marry.Â
The poor boy. He didnât deserve to be met with the rage of a mad woman, but that was what he stumbled across when the news of her arranged marriage escaped from between his lips. At the sight, he suddenly understood why she was considered the town spinster. She was angered and chaotic, screaming into the wind when his words finally registered. She looked like a feral animal, the way she gnashed her teeth, yelling about the unfairness of it all.Â
Him being no older than ten years old, couldnât really understand why she was so upset about this news. She mumbled a few thingsâ Something about her loss of freedom and self expression. But it was all very strange. He was used to the usual reaction from young women whenever they heard the news of their engagement. They were always⊠ecstatic. Squealing like pigs as they clutched onto their nearest friend, family member or even just a stranger. Or if they were unhappy with the prospect of marriageâ just as Y/N was nowâ they were always able to hold their tongue until they were alone.Â
Her reaction was all just very⊠strange. Very different.Â
And different, it was. She now sat, stewing in her anger, refusing to even spare a glance towards her future husband.
A celebratory dinner, made carefully and happily by her aunt, sat on the wooden table stretched between them. It was all the distance she needed to ignore the man she was meant to be betrothed to. But even though she could avert her gaze, there was no getting past listening in on the conversation that flitted between this man and her family members.
She had learned that he lived on the other side of the island. So now it made sense that she didnât recognize his surname when the messenger boy first told it to her. She barely got to know the names of her neighbors, let alone those on the windward side.
He was known as Joel Miller, only learning his first name when her father greeted him at the beginning of the evening, with a sturdy handshake at their front door, the casual name falling from his tongue as they exchanged niceties. As she stood behind her fatherâs shoulder, she refused to look at him even then, her eyes steady on the toes of her boots.Â
Now at the table, the topic of his occupation also arose during the conversation. He spoke of his adventures out at sea, and what he encountered in his life as a fisherman.Â
Typical. A fisherman. The most sought out job on this island as they were mainly considered as gods since they provided the island with prosperous amounts of food and good fortune. The people that held the title of âfishermenâ were always the most sought after when it came to marriage. Y/N wondered how her father was able to find a man like that for her.Â
But as the dinner went on, the secret was soon revealed. Because she soon learned that his wife had left him. Many years ago, late in the night as a stowaway on a cargo ship headed towards the mainland. The only thing worse than a spinster was a man whose wife had left him. And now the puzzle pieces were fitting together.Â
They were a match made in heaven. The crazy woman and the unwanted man.Â
Y/N felt nothing but sympathy for his first wife. Surely, she was just the same as she. The only reason a woman would leave her partner was if she yearned for freedom beyond the tassels of marriage. Maybe eventually, Y/N would make the score two for two. Leave him behind just as his first wife did. The thought brought an overwhelming onslaught of anticipation that burned within the girl's core.Â
But she had to be patient. She couldnât just leave him when all eyes were narrowed in on their engagement. The whispers on the street all revolved around her, and how she was finally able to snag a man after all these years. Even more speculation was offered when they found out who the man was. Apparently these two were a circus act around the Isle of Ardor. A horrific accident that none of the residents could tear their eyes from.
Maybe thatâs why their wedding was so crowded.Â
A few weeks had past, and she had yet to grant the man with her gaze. All she knew of his looks was the quick glimpse of silver she saw scattered amongst the brown in his hair, and the hard set of his jawline, clenched in an anger that seemed to always be present. So as she walked down the aisle, her fingers clenched around a wilting bouquet of daisies, she kept her eyes pointed towards the horizon that lingered in the distance.
Traditional Ardorian weddings were always held in the same place. On the cliffside, hanging over the tempestuous sea that always danced near the shores of the Isle. The same clergyman, performed the same ceremony, spoke the same gentle words every single time. She has been to countless versions of this very same wedding throughout the duration of her life. Though, she never thought that it would be her who was forced to stand under the wedding arch. Especially in her late-mothers wedding gown, in front of the entirety of the small town that sat on the coast of Ardor.Â
The most surprising part of it all was when she exchanged her âI doâsâ effortlessly and without any complaint.Â
Maybe that was what also surprised most of the wedding-goers, as they began to whisper to one another. The crowd seemed disappointed, almost as if they expected a spectacle from the woman they deemed a recluse. From the rumors theyâve already heard through the grapevine, maybe they were expecting her to grow reckless with abandon. To stomp her feet and scream out to the gods. So when they were met with this quiet, timid version of the woman, who spoke her vows with no contradiction, they all stood and left the wedding. Completely missing out on the part when the man was told to kiss his bride. Which he didnât even do.Â
A very strange wedding indeed.Â
It all came to a head when the man called Joel finally brought his new wife towards the threshold of their (used) marital home. It was a few hours after the ceremony, and usually this part of the evening was paired with bright, eager smiles as newly-weds were finally allowed to consummate their love. However, as we already know with this couple, the night went very differently than the norm that is usually presented.Â
As soon as he had unlocked the door for his established home, the woman stormed through the front entrance, her eyes darting around each corner as she took in each aspect of her new home. Trying to find something to dislike. But it was an agreeable home. Comfortable and cluttered with trinkets that mustâve meant a great deal to the man. It was⊠interesting. So after finding nothing she could truly complain about, and be the disastrous wife she planned to be, she whipped towards him in an unexpected flurry, her arms folding across her chest.Â
Her eyes finally landed on him for the very first time. And she stilled.Â
He was older. Much older. But she already knew that from the information she learned from her father. What she didnât know was how good age looked on the man. He was handsome... And so much larger than she had thought. His shoulders were wide, emphasized as he stood in the doorway. His hands looked strong and calloused, obviously capable of working against the aggression brought forth by an unforgiving sea.Â
Then there were the features she had only caught glimpses of, but yet she was overly familiar withâ due to the flashes of her memory that blared across the dark of her eyelids whenever she tried to sleep. His brown curls were unruly across his forehead, despite his attempt to manage them with gel, most likely trying to look put together for the wedding. They were painted with faint hues of gray, evidence of the twenty-some years he had against her.Â
Her eyes tugged towards his familiar jawline. Strongâ just as she remembered. But it wasnât clenched in anger, or anything else of the sorts. His features were molded in a form that looked to be like curiosity. Maybe this was the first real look he had of her as wellâŠ
Thatâs when she met the deep brown irises of his eyes. The sight of which was a drastic contrast of anything else she had known of him. They were almost⊠warm and forgiving, bordered by the faint outline of crows feet, formed over the years. His gaze was soft in the way he considered her features and dragged over the curves of her body. So different from the harsh lines of the rest of his body.
She held her arms tighter against her form. Feeling vulnerable under his stare.
âI donât know what youâre expecting to happenâŠâ Y/N finally spoke the first words she ever said to the man who was considered to be her husband, âBut I can assure you that itâs not what youâre thinking.â
The man simply stared at her, his eyebrows raising at her words. She took a step back as he took a step inside, but felt foolish as he only did so to turn around and shut the front door behind him. The familiar sea breeze now lost to them.Â
When he turned back around, he spoke the first words he ever said to the woman who was considered to be his wife.Â
âI wasnât expectinâ anything.â He replied, his sentence simple and his accent faded.
She had heard his voice before. When he was speaking to her father and reciting his vows. But now that it was directed towards her, it finally dawned on her how deep it was. How it rumbled through his chest in such a way that it settled deep within Y/Nâs bones.
She was perturbed by the sensation. So much so that her next argument was lost on her tongue.
âFollow me.â He said, in the absence of her words.
Since there wasnât much left to do, she did just that. The small house shifted under the weight of their footfalls as they ascended up the creaky stairs. Y/Nâs eyes were trained on the sight of his broad back, taking up so much space as he ventured through the hallways of this two-story home.Â
Her eyes were soon torn away from his form as she took in the decor of the rest of hisâ their house. It matched what she saw downstairs. Everything was nautical themed, something common within the homes that littered this island. But the way this house was decorated was different. Instead of the manufactured ocean aesthetic that Y/N was used to, everything about this house was⊠natural. The way she felt in this house felt exactly how she felt on the beaches that ringed around this tiny island. She never thought sheâd ever meet anyone who was able to capture the essence of the natural world so effortlessly. She began to soften, similar to what she felt when she saw that look in his brown eyes.
She squared her shoulders against the thought, forcing her resolve back to the forefront of her mind. This was the last place she wanted to be. She had to remind herself of that.Â
âThis is your room.â Joel muttered in that deep voice of his, stopping at a door sat at the end of the hall. His large hand twisting the golden doorknob, it swung open as he pushed against the wood.Â
âMy room?â Y/N questioned, as she stood on her tiptoes, staring into the confines that were now revealed from over Joelâs shoulder. She took in the sight of a wrought-iron bed, a vanity and a wardrobe built out of dark-stained wood. Furniture to call her own for the first time.Â
âYourâs.â He nodded in confirmation. And then he stepped aside, letting her venture further into the room. She breathed in the fresh air that was granted by the windows that still stood open against either wall, crickets calling through the crevices, seeping in from the dark of the night.Â
She ran a hand over the handmade quilt that covered the mattress, cool against her palm, unslept in for monthsâ maybe years.Â
The floorboards squeaked under her feet as she turned quickly towards where Joel was standing. But the doorway was empty. Her words of gratitude fell flat against the air now that there was no one to direct them to.Â
He mustâve snuck off as she was admiring the room, assuming she wanted to be left alone. Which she did. But no one had ever respected her privacy before. She definitely wasnât expecting the courtesy from the man she was forced to marry.Â
A weird feeling wormed its way into Y/Nâs heart, one she had never felt before. She chose to ignore it as she plopped onto the mattress, springs squeaking under her weight, staring at the vacant space where Joel once stood.
~
Weeks passed by, and neither one of the newlyweds tried to make any contact with one another as they resided in their separate bedrooms.
Since Y/N was now destined to be a doting housewife, no one had any expectations for her beyond the household she currently lived in. And since Joel was avoiding her just as much as she was him, it was easy to dismiss his heavy footfalls that rang out against the house in the early hours of the morning. All she had to do was wait until they faded off the steps of the front porch, and then she was free to roam the house that was now half hers.Â
Though after her exploring was finished, most of her days were spent in the garden, overgrown from lack of maintenance, but Y/N happened to like it that way. She was elated to find it, as she stood on the precipice of the backyard that very first morning. And now Y/N could be found curled on the antiquated porch swing that sat among the weeds, a book cradled in her lap, stolen from the office she also discovered on her second day of living with her new husband.Â
However, as she relaxed in the garden, sun shining over every inch of her exposed skin, guilt would soon riddle her bones. It was another feeling she wasnât used to. But now that she was married and now that she knew that Joel wasnât the horrible intrusive husband she thought he would be, she decided he deserved to come home to a warm meal. So eventuallyâ after a few of her days spent basking in the sun, the guilt becoming too muchâ she would one day venture to the market nearest their marital home and pick up ingredients to make the man some dinner after his long day at the docks.
She would never actually eat with him, of courseâ only leaving the homemade food in a ceramic pot stationed in the middle of the kitchen table. But she hoped her gesture proved enough that she wasnât exactly angered by his newfound presence in her life.Â
Despite the fact that she still planned on her escape.
It was obvious that Joel wasnât a bad husband. And of course, that brought pause to the woman. She wondered what exactly it was that drove his first wife to leave him when he wasnât nearly as bad as she thought. But the mystery still couldnât counter with the fact that Y/N was desperate for her freedom, and desperate for a love that would set her heart on fire. Surely she couldnât find that sort of thing on this tiny insignificant island. She had to escape. Didnât she?
The topic stayed constant on her mind as she perused the books in Joelâs tiny library (library being a generous term, it was actually just one shelf tucked in the corner of his office). One day, in the living room, she even stumbled upon a great big atlas that Joel had left behind, turned open on a page that showcased an image of the world. All the little squiggles and lines that made up the map of their great big earth, her soulmate must have resided within one of those faraway places. He couldnât have been so close, on the tiny dot that represented the Isle of Ardor, it seemed impossible.
Now lost in thought about chances and percentages, the young woman paid no mind to the time that passed as she flipped through the large pages of the atlas. The sun was dipping low beneath the horizon, painting the skies with pinks, and oranges. She had yet to even make dinner when Joel had walked through the front door.
She stood quickly from her spot on the couch. As a habit, her tongue fumbled through the words that would leave her mouth whenever her father would return from work.Â
âWelcome home.â
Joel paused in the doorway. His brows furrowed in confusion since by this time the woman was usually found locked in her bedroom. And typically, when one welcomes you home, youâre supposed to reply with some form of gratitude, at least this was custom to the Isle of Ardor. But Joel was at a loss for words. To have his new wife, ready and expectant of him was unfamiliar. Especially since she had granted no interest in him for the past few weeks.
âI forgot to make dinner.â She told him, seemingly desperate to fill the silence. Her tone was soft with apprehension, she looked like a timid little rabbit. âIâm sorry.â
Taking in her words, and the sight of herâ chest heaving as she stood by the couch, almost as if she were caught in the act of something despicableâ Joel soon realized that this was all an accident. He wasnât meant to find her like this. She had only gotten lost within whatever activity she was currently indulging herself in.Â
He caught sight of the atlas he left on the couch late last night. It was there since he was currently making plans for his upcoming fishing trip, but it was quickly forgotten once the threat of sleep had forced him to make his way back towards his bedroom. Was that what she was looking at? His lips parted with even more realization, if that was the case. He had a sneaking suspicion why she would be interested in a book like that. But he wasnât about to ask her any incriminating questions.
âThatâs alright.â He breathed, shutting the door behind him and foregoing any accusations he could potentially throw her way. âI can make something.â
âNo, please.â She begged, as if guilt forced her back into the role of a doting wife. âYouâve had a long day. Allow me.â
She moved through the small living room of the house in long strides, headed towards the kitchen. She was determined to be the good wife she promised to be when she made her vows. Even if it was a lie at the time. Even if it still was as she planned for her escape.
As she brushed past Joel, her wrist was suddenly encased in a pool of unexpected warmth. His calloused fingers were wrapped firmly against her skin. In the month that they had been married, this was the first time he had ever touched her. Her heart lodged itself in her throat. Her gaze shifted so that she was staring wide-eyed up at her husband.
âLet me help you.â He murmured, his own eyes pleading her for something she was unsure of.Â
âOkay.â She whispered, nodding her head slightly, since there was nothing else she could do.
Now here they were, standing in their humble kitchen, stove hot and burning as they both stood over the swirling pot of spices, vegetables and fish. This form of intimacy was unfamiliar to them. It was the closest theyâve been in weeks, and it felt far more vulnerable than it did when they stood across the aisle as they spoke their vows. Joelâs hand was gripped harshly against the wooden spoon as he stirred the contents of their stew. Y/Nâs fingers were latched onto the salt shaker, her eyes trained on the little grain of bitter crystal that was lodged in one of the holes.Â
âHere.â Joel practically whispered, holding up the spoon for his wife to taste. She glanced up at him through her lashes, hesitantly, before slowly leaning forward.
Her supple lips formed around the wood as she slurped at its contents. Joel shivered at the sight. He knew that his new wife was pretty, but seeing as she took his requests so willingly, was a sight to behold. Her lips seemed so plush, and the way her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she blew cold air across his offered taste, almost had him down on his knees. His adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed harshly against his dry throat, mind littered with filthy innuendos.
âHowâs it taste?â He asked, his voice strained, forcing away the provocative thoughts that forged to the front of his mind.
Her brows furrowed in concentration as she held the flavor on her tongue. But soon a small grin flickered across her features. Joelâs stomach dipped at the sight. A feeling he hadnât felt in yearsâ maybe decades... maybe ever.
âItâs good.â She replied, wrapping her own smaller fingers around Joelâs hand as she brought the spoon up for a second taste. The touch of her hand was a shock, to say the least. It was only their second instance of skin contact and yet it was so much different than before. Only because it was her that was touching him. Willinglyâ no, purposefully. Embarrassingly enough, the surprise of it all was somehow too much for the older man. The spoon slipped from his grasp, clattering against the tile, splashing stew across the lower half of the surrounding cabinets, as well as the long hem of Y/Nâs skirt. Joel took a large step back, the heat of shame licking up his neck to the tips of his ears.
âSorryâ Iâ Sorry.â He stammered, finishing his words somewhat lamely. He felt like a shy little school boy, he couldnât even meet her gaze. It was humiliating.Â
That was until he heard the sound of her laughter. Soft and tinkling, with no hint of malice. She wasnât laughing at him, she wasnât even laughing with him. It was more like she was laughing at the entire situation, or maybe at nothing in particular. He finally braved a glance up at her, to see those supple lips curled into a bright smile. His heart lurched at the sight.
She didnât say anything. Didnât acknowledge his fumbling apology, instead she shook her head slightly, rolling up the sleeves of her sweater, a smile still apparent on her face as she got to her knees and began to clean up the mess. She didnât even worry about the splotches of blooming red that was scattered across the white fabric of her pretty skirt. She let it stain. Lasting proof of the very first dinner they shared as man and wife.
He served it up in heaping spoonfuls. Steam lazily swirling up from the hot meal, confined in ceramic bowls that Joel had pulled from the cabinets. After Y/Nâs laughter had faded from the air, the only sound that graced their ears was that of spoons scraping against the stoneware as they savored their last bites.
No words were spoken as they sat at the kitchen table. And the woman couldnât decide if it was awkward or not. She was never one to be deterred by the presence of silence, but she was curious if the man who now sat across from her was.
Not that he was a man of many words. He was silent in the very way he lived. His actions were always careful and well thought out. Maybe thatâs why she hadnât heard of him before their betrothal. You donât turn the cogs of the rumor mill if you keep to yourself. Which is what Joel seemed to do.Â
So maybe he liked the silence. Y/N decided she did as well.Â
Though it was finally broken when they stood at the kitchen sink, Joel was washing the dishes while Y/N driedâ All serenaded by the sound of running water and clanking utensils. That was all it was until his words filtered in through the white noise.
âIâm leavinâ tomorrow.â He told her, eyes trained on the tiny soap bubbles attaching themselves to the skin of his hands. They were iridescent in their color. The distraction of it left the furrow between Y/Nâs brows unknown. She wondered where on earth he could possibly be going. But the question was soon answered as he continued.
âItâs the first fishinâ trip of the season. Gonna be gone for a week or two.â He explained. Her mouth formed around a silent âahâ as understanding dawned on her.
Fishing expeditions were always a big spectacle in this little town. Caught in glimpses on her way to school, Y/N always observed the teary-eyed farewells passed between the fishermen and their families. Hands up in the air in enthusiastic waves of goodbye as the ship drew further out to sea, becoming a small insignificant dot and then turning into nothing against the horizon.Â
She liked the return days far better. They always seemed much happier when loving arms wrapped around trembling shoulders, a warm embrace to signify how grateful the fishermen were to be brought home safe and unharmed. It was one of the few times this island lived up to its name.Â
And now the woman was left wondering if Joel expected her to become one of the teary-eyed family members waiting down by the docks.Â
âWhat time are you leaving?â She asked, carefully setting down the bowl that resided in her hands, it clinked against the wooden countertop.
âEarly.â He replied, his large fingers hooking around the faucet lever, shutting off the constant stream of water. In its absence, the silence was louder and the same could be said of that deep voice of his. âDonât worry. Iâll try not to wake you when I leave.â
So now the question was answered. He didnât expect anything from her. Just like he said that very first night. It was still a foreign concept for her. She wasnât sure if she truly believed it.Â
Though the belief finally found her when she woke up late the next morning, the sun deep in the sky, shining bright over her bed and warming her skin. She laid there for a minute, staring up at the ceiling as she considered the quiet state of the house. It was silent now more than ever. Left without the sound of Joelâs familiar footsteps as well as a final goodbye.
~
The time spent alone in the little house was surprisingly dreary.Â
At firstâ once the realization that she had the house to herself settled in, the woman was ecstatic. She had never been left to her own devices before. Usually she would have to cheat her way out of the ever-present company of her family, just for five minutes of precious solitude. Now she had hours of itâ days of it. It was exhilarating. It was freeing. It was⊠lonely.
And maybe just a little bit scary, as she curled under her sheets at night, unable to explain away the creaks that filtered in from under her door now that Joel was gone.Â
Joel.
The absence of him presented Y/N with the unexpected discovery that he was a form of comfort that surrounded the walls of this house. Almost as if he were the protector of this hearth. And now that he was gone, the little noises she heard at night shifted into dark threatening creatures within the confines of Y/Nâs overactive imagination. Â
She cursed herself for her sudden lack of backbone.Â
However, the daytime was somehow worse. Because at least during the night, her fear would soon subside once the calming tendrils of sleep coaxed Y/N back into her dreams. But during the day, when she was sitting on that squeaky porch swing, boredom would be the next thing to burden her. And there was nothing she could do to alleviate herself from it.Â
There were only so many books in Joelâs collection. Only so many rooms that were left to explore (excluding the master bedroom of course). And only so many activities that she could think to do to distract herself. So as she sat there aimlessly, swinging back and forth under a late afternoon sun, it dawned on her that she was most entertained when navigating this new delicate life that she shared with Joel.
Which eventually brought her to the greater realization that it wasnât fear or boredom that caused the ache that burned low in her stomach. No, it was the fact of the matter that she had simply missed Joel. One might describe that ache as yearning. But Y/N would definitely not be the one to do so. So she ignored the feeling.
She ignored it until it was replaced with the growing buzz of anticipation when the day of Joelâs return finally arrived.Â
Excited whispers were passed from mouth to ear as everyone spoke about the ship's return. Y/N had caught a conversation while perusing the pitted-fruits at the market, relaying the information that the boat was set to dock later that evening. And as she quickly returned the contents that resided in her basketâ replacing it with enough ingredients for a meal made for two rather than oneâ Y/N wondered if she was perhaps sharing in the excitement that took over the small island.
Which would be very odd, for she never once felt united with her fellow townspeople, and she could hardly believe that she was excited to see the man she was forced to marry. Though the oddest thing was, (and this was still unbeknownst to the young woman herself) was that she hadnât thought of her underlying desire to escape, whatsoever. Not even once while she was left alone for the past two weeks, which by all means would have been the perfect time to plan her getaway. But the notion was completely lost to her mind as she hurriedly made her way back home so that she could start on dinner.
It was a sight to behold.
Later that evening, as Joel stood in the entranceway, limbs overtired from his harsh venture out to sea, he thought he was hallucinating. The last thing he expected when he walked through that door was to be met with the image of his wife, looking oh-so pretty in a light blue dress, waiting eagerly by a table full of food. The whole scene of it was washed in a golden light from candles set across the room. It was set to look like a dream. Was he dreaming?
He had thought their dinner the night before he left would be the last one. In fact, he had thought that would be the last time he'd ever see her.Â
Joel wasnât an oblivious man. He knew how she felt about this whole arrangement. It was obvious in the way she would avoid looking at him when they had first met. And even if he couldnât see the hatred she harbored for him within her irises, the woman wore her heart on her sleeve. He could see her indignation in the way she huffed around the house and stomped her way into the garden. Which was all made much more confusing when she started leaving him hot meals after his work was finished by the dock. He didnât anticipate such a kind gesture from her.
She was a mystery. But he supposed she leaned more towards the side of completely hating his guts as she was still bent on avoiding him those first couple of weeks into their marriage.
Not that he could blame the woman. He only said yes to her fatherâs proposition because the man looked so desperate. He was practically down on his knees. And Joel couldnât say he wasnât enticed by the idea of not having to return to an empty home any longer.Â
But Joel wasnât attached to the idea of their marriage.Â
So if she wanted to avoid him, he would grant her the space she needed. If she wanted to huff at him in anger whenever their paths did cross, he would take the onslaught. And if she wanted to escape into the night, never to be heard from again, who was he to try and stop her?
In the meantime, he would enjoy the meals she left for him.
Then came the night when she decided to share it with him. Sure, it was an accident. And the entire encounter was fumbling and awkward. But it sparked a small bout of warmth deep within his chest.Â
He supposed that feeling was hope. Or at least that was the conclusion he came to as he was rocked to sleep by the ebbing waves underneath his ship. He had felt hope before, itâs been a long time, but he knew what it was. Thatâs all it could ever be. But what was he hoping for?
Hope that this could be something more than a marriage certificate? Hope that she would stick around, at least for a few more weeks? Hope that he would see her face amongst the crowd as their ship pulled back into the dock?
When he didnât see her, the warmth was lost to him. And in its absence thatâs when he knew thatâs exactly what it was. Without that flame of hope, he was now shrouded in darkness just like he knew his house would be when he returned under the setting sun.
So he was not expecting this. Not at all.Â
âYouâre here.â He said, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them. A little line appeared between her two brows as confusion riddled her features.
âWhy wouldnât I be?â She asked, head tilting with the question.
âI donât know. I just⊠thought that maybe youâd be gone.â He replied, shaking his own head slightly as he admitted his suspicion out loud.
Busted.Â
Y/Nâs shoulders tensed as the words hung in the air between them. She should have known that heâd catch on to her plans, she wasnât usually the type to be subtle with her grievances. But there was a twinge in her stomach at his admittance. The one thing he expected of her was exactly the one thing she wanted. And he wouldâve let it happen. The hidden honesty in his words coerced the same thing from her own lips.
âI thought the same thing.â She confessed, a small bashful smile forming on her lips. The corners of Joel's mouth twitched up into a fleeting smile. It was gone within seconds. But the gleam of it still shone within the depths of his brown irises.
Then he offered her a small understanding nod. And that was all that was needed. The flame of hope flickered on.
They both took their seats and ate the homemade dinner in comfortable silence.
~
The same fragile routine had now taken place every night since then. As soon as Joel would return home from the docks, he would be greeted by the sight of Y/N chopping up the chosen vegetable for that night. If he came home early enough, there would still be certain tasks that needed to be finished, and she never complained when he would step in beside her with freshly washed handsâ the sleeves of his flannel rolled further up his forearmsâ ready to help.Â
He liked those times the most. There was something serene in the way they moved around the kitchen together, as if they were living proof of perfect harmony. So most days, Joel would finish the menial tasks at work as quickly as he possibly could to return home before she finished cooking. He was greedy for more of these interactions to hold under his belt. And he would always be slightly disappointed whenever he found the table already set. Though that grievance wouldnât last long as he was soon greeted by Y/Nâs smile, that seemed to be getting brighter with each passing day.Â
Unfortunately for Y/N, she was not granted with the same reassurance.Â
As it turns out, Joel was a brick wall of a man, which was a fact he was completely unaware of. So his expressions of contentedness were lost on the woman. She wasnât observant enough to notice how he would return home from work earlier and earlier each day. Or to catch on to the way his eyes would linger on her while they silently ate their dinner.Â
What she did notice was how he never smiled. It was as if he never learned how to. Maybe he had been a sad little baby from the moment he was born. Or perhaps he did know how to smile, and he just never had a reason to. Not even now. Not even with her.Â
Which, to be honest, was a punch in the gut for the young woman, since she had been finding so much joy during the times they shared together.Â
She tried to be rational, because Joel had always been a very unemotional man. But Y/Nâs brain always kicked into overdrive whenever she was left alone with her thoughts, and it always boiled down to the conclusion that perhaps Joel just didnât like her very much.Â
Oh, how the tables have turned. One minute she detested the man she was betrothed to and in the next she lapped up any attention he had gifted her like a small pathetic puppy. She was desperate to know more about the man. What was it that made him smile? Who was he? What were his interests? What was he like as a child?
And why on earth would his first wife ever leave him?
She had found out the answer to thatâ as well as caught her first glimpse of the surprising range of his emotionsâ all in the same night.Â
There was a storm that evening. Dark and unrelenting as the onslaught of rain pounded against the roof of their quaint little house. Big bolts of lighting hung low in the sky, illuminating the world in small fractions of time. The thunder rolling deep on its heel.Â
Joel was hours late. The dinner that sat on the table was ice cold. Though that fact was unnoticed by the woman, as she paced the distance of the kitchen, her bones wracked with worry. This was the perfect example of how her mind kicked into overdrive in times of distress. She assumed the worst.Â
She imagined Joel dead, left unbreathing, body lost under treacherous waves.Â
Panic quickened the beat of her heart. Any efforts she made to calm herself fell flat. Reason and rationality were lost to her completely. All she could do was to keep moving her feet.Â
Back and forth. Back and forth.
Until her feet took her further. Soft footsteps rang out against the floor of the living room and then up the stairs. They paced the length of the hallway a few times until the woman found herself stationed in front of the door to the master bedroom.
Her hand had somehow found itself gripped around the cool metal of the doorknob.Â
When she twisted it, the door swung open with ease.Â
It was easy for Y/N to dismiss her worries when it was replaced by a burning curiosity. She stood at the precipice of his bedroom, eyes flickering over every surface.Â
There was a large bed that sat in the middle of the room, left untidy by the man who stumbled out of it early that morning. The image of his large form tangled in the sheets flickered to the front of her mind, before she forced herself to focus on the next part of the room.
There was a bay window, looking out over the back garden. The bench underneath it was adorned with countless throw pillows, a detail that must have been added by his previous wife. Joel didnât seem to be the type to appreciate that type of decor. A weird surge of jealousy was added to the other emotions she was already riddled with that evening. It burned bright behind her sternum.Â
But then her gaze roamed over the bookshelf that towered over the rest of the room. It resided next to a door, but what could potentially be hidden behind it wasnât what had her feet moving deeper into the room. (Since it was most likely a bathroom, anyways.)
It was a picture.
Sat on one of the middle shelves of the bookshelf. It was framed in an intricate engraved pattern of gold-painted wood, a happy memory captured in black and white.Â
Frozen in time was the image of a young girlâ most likely not even reaching double digits in her age. Her smile was bright and somewhat stubborn as she grinned up at her from the frame. She had dark skin and soft eyes that reminded the woman of Joel. Her hair framed her face in disorderly curls, tousled by the seabreeze. Y/N smiled softly at the wild look that sparked in the girl's irises, as if ready for any adventure that would be thrown her way. She ran a finger over the smooth glass, like she could caress the girl's face in her own hands.
âWhat are you doing?â
It wasnât the words themselves that caused the woman to drop the picture, but rather the rage that was intertwined within them. Her eyes snapped up to find Joel standing in the door, backlit from the light in the hallway. His brown hair was matted against the skin of his forehead, soaked by the heavy rain. The rest of it dripped off of his clothes as they clung to his skin, creating a puddle around his boot-clad feet.Â
The glass of the frame shattered once it hit the floor.Â
âWho told you, you could come in here?â He seethed, reaching her in just a few long strides. She cowered against the bookshelf in his advancement but the collision never came. He bent towards the ground, large hands shifting through the broken glass.
âI-Iâm sorry.â Y/N stammered, dropping down to help him. He pushed her hands away.
âDonât.â He snapped.Â
âWhy would you do this?â He then added, his words were harsh. He looked up at her, his eyes were dark with his wrath. A small pathetic sound squeaked out of her throat, she shook her head, unable to find the words.
And then the next thing she knew, she was running. Was it the anger that caused her to run? Or perhaps her own embarrassment. She didnât know. But the sudden invasion of his unconventional display of emotion had become all too much. The same feet that carried her towards the master bedroom brought her out into the garden.
Y/N barely realized where she was until she registered the harsh rain that bombarded her skin, her hair and clothes instantly soaked as she ventured out among the overgrown weeds. Her legs didnât stop until her palms wrapped around the familiar wood of the porch swing she spent so much of her time with. Her shoulders shook with shame, cursing herself inwardly for her intrusiveness.Â
And then⊠Somehow, through the howling wind, Y/N had heard her name.Â
She whipped her head towards the house to see that Joel had followed her. He charged through the storm, through the vegetation that whipped wildly in the wind, until he reached her. She expected more of his anger.
Instead she was met with two large hands cupping her cheeks.
âAre you hurt?â He asked over the raging of the storm, before she could make any questions of her own.
âIâ what?â She faltered, her hands instinctively moving up to caress the skin of his wrists.
âAre you alright?â He repeated himself with new words, his brown eyes flickering over each feature of her face, as if he was making sure each part of her was still there.Â
âItâs only rain. Of course Iâm alright.â She answered, a bit impatiently. Did he really think so little of her and her competence?
âYou certain?â He asked, and thatâs when Y/N took notice of the panic that resided in his brown irises. His breathing was dissonant and in a sense, frightened. This was something else entirely.
âJoel.â She said her tone shifted drastically from annoyance to something much softer. But his movements were still frantic as he searched her for any injuries.
âJoel!â She said again, louder this time, hoping to gain his attention. When she didnât, Y/N tightened her grip around the wrist of his right hand, and shifted it towards her beating heart. She hoped he could feel the proof of her life that thrummed against the skin of her chest.Â
The evidence of her heartbeat calmed Joel down, his breathing evened out.
âIâm fine.â She murmured, tilting her chin to kiss the palm of his left hand. She was unsure of what brought her to do it, but it seemed to help as Joel then pulled her into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around her shoulders. He sighed once he felt her weight against him.
âIâm alright.â She reiterated into his soaked flannel. His arms wound tighter around her.
And then they were back inside. To her objection, he had made her take a shower, to extinguish any chill that the rain might have instilled in her bones. She almost got away with not taking one until her chattering teeth proved her otherwise. He had given her such a demanding look that she had no other choice but to do as he said.Â
So once she was showered and dressed in warm pajamas, (and once he did the same). They were now sitting in the living room. Her knees were curled up to her chest as she sat on the couch, Joelâs feet were solid against the patterned rug that sat beneath them, in an armchair angled directly in front of her. Their usual silence had found them again. Was it comfortable or not? Y/N had yet to find out. Joel broke it before she could.
âIâm sorry.â He told her, his cheeks pink with shame and his eyes averted to the ground. She shook her head in defiance to his apology, even though she knew he couldnât see her.
âNo, it was myââ She tried to counter. But he pursed his lips, causing her to promptly keep her mouth shut.
âI shouldnâtâve yelled at you like that.â He said after a brief pause.
âIt was well deserved.â Y/N admitted, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. âI shouldnât have entered your room.â
Joel shook his head the same way she did, only slightly, but Y/N caught it.
âIt was about time, anyways.â He commented. She resisted the urge to pry for more, cause she knew that eventually he would indulge in her curiosities. And he did.
âShe was my daughter.â He murmured, knuckles white from his grip on the arms of the plush leather chair he was sitting upon.
âThe girl. In the picture.â Joel clarified when he was met with her silence. But Y/N already knew that. Her silence to his explanation was due to the word he used. Was.
She repeated it out loud, in the form of a question.Â
A sigh escaped Joel's lips, he leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. He still wouldnât meet Y/Nâs gaze.
âDo you remember that storm twelve years ago?â Joel questioned, his palm running over his forehead as he prepared himself to tell this story. Y/N responded with a soft âyes.â It was a horrible, outrageous storm that caused so much damage to their little town. So much loss and heartache that hung over the island, even to this day. She was fifteen years old. The fear of it all was still present in her memories.
âWell, my daughter⊠Sarah. SheâŠâ His voice cracked, he dragged in a shuddering breath. âSomehow she got outside. Debris from the old farmhouse across the street was picked up by the wind. Pierced right through herââÂ
A sharp sob interrupted his sentence. Y/N wasted no time. She pushed up from her spot on the couch and was on her knees, sitting in front of him in a moment's notice. Her hands were splayed across his own thick thighs, she squeezed her digits around the muscles in reassurance. He didnât need to say anything more. The picture was painted.
âShe was nine years old.â Joel whispered into the hand that was still hiding his features, finding the courage to speak more about it once he felt her touch through the fabric of his pajama pants. âNine years old, and she lost her life.â
And now everything was clear. It made sense why he was so scared for her life out there in the garden. He had experienced a loss like that before. A cruel twist of fate that took the life of his daughter. Right in his front yard.
âI wish every day that it was me instead of her.â He admitted, more sobs wracking through his body, large shoulders shaking.
It was peculiar to see him like this. Usually he was such a vision of strength, but now that these emotions were presented to Y/N, everything made so much more sense. He was hiding himself. Scared of more loss, if he opened his heart up to anyone else. This was only more confirmed as he continued.
âMy wifeâ My first wife, she couldn't handle the loss of our daughter.â Joel relayed, âI donât think she was happy with me. Not until Sarah was born. And once she was gone⊠She didnât have a reason to stayâŠâ
His words died in the air after that. But yet again there was no need to continue. Y/N understood. And all she could do was shift her hands so that her arms were now wrapped around his neck. She pulled Joel in as close as she could, her waist now fitted between his thighs. He clutched onto her in return, fingers gripping into her nightgown. His head resting in the crook of her neck, mouth pressed against the tendon.Â
âI wonât leave you.â Y/N whispered into his hair, still damp from the recent shower.Â
She wasnât exactly sure what brought her to say those words, but once they were hanging in the air she knew them to be true. And she knew he did too once she felt his lips form into a distinguishable kiss against her skin. It was faint, but the spark of it lingered, and it changed everything.
~
A few months had passed since the night of the storm and a lot had changed for the woman, at least inwardly. But their routine? It was all the same. They would make dinner, share in their comfortable silence (sometimes punctuated with lighthearted conversation) and then theyâd return to their separate bedrooms. Every. Single. Night. Nothing more, nothing less.
It was a bit frustrating to say the least.Â
And then he would leave every few weeks, on a venture out at sea. Where he would be gone for days at a time. And of course, she would miss him terribly. But would Y/N accompany him to the docks whenever he would leave? No. Would she ever be there to greet him home? Also no.
So it was safe to say that the blame was partially on her. Which frustrated the woman even further, because now she couldnât even rely on the fact that the indifference was all one sided. Her actions apparently proved otherwise.
But what was it that she wanted to change? Maybe she expected their conversations to be much lengthier now that they had crossed the boundaries of hidden grievances. Or maybe she expected him to extend an invitation to sleep in his bedroom, now that they had participated in small instances of physical touch. Whatever it was, Y/N only knew one thing.
It had seemed they were still stuck at square one.
And with every one step forward there were three steps back. Not so long ago they were so close, lips against skin in the quiet of their living room. Safe in each other's arms as the storm raged on. But now? There was nothing.Â
She resented the fact that she was falling into the wants and desires of the common Ardorian townsman. It all seemed very mundane against the aspirations she held close to her heart before she was married. But as she stewed in these feelingsâ especially during the times that Joel was awayâ she wondered if these desires were just part of the human experience. Perhaps they were even the desires that came with the burning passionate love she yearned forâŠ
Now that she knew what it felt like. It all seemed so natural. You meet the one who befuddles your heart and soul and all you want is⊠more, more, more.
Would she ever get what she was hoping for?
Maybe she could, if she was brave enough.Â
The opportunity presented itself the eve of Joelâs next expedition.Â
He had gotten home early that day, so he was around to help finish up dinner. Y/N remembered being unable to look away as his large hands sliced each potato that needed to be added to the pot. He was attentive with his actions, just as he always was. She was jealous of the knife that resided gently in his grasp. Heat burned under her cheeks at her desperation.
Of course every detail of her wants and needs went unnoticed by Joel. Everything about their usual marital customs went off without a hitch, why should he think anything different could happen?
They ate their meal in silence. They cleaned up after themselves, as always. And then they slowly made their way up the stairs, just like they did every night.Â
Joel stopped on the landing at the top. Y/N followed his actions. This wasnât unusual, the same thing happened on every eve of his long departures. He stood, towering above her, she looked up at him with hopeful eyes.
âIâll be gone before you wake up.â He told her, his voice gruff. She nodded, once. Simple and to the point. Just like always.
Joel nodded back in confirmation and then turned to go, like a captain dismissing his subordinate. It was all very formal. Almost passionless, which was such a great contradiction to what the young woman was feeling inside of her chest. She was just about ready to burst. So even though she wasnât exactly intending on doing soâ she wasnât surprised when her hand shot out to clasp her fingers around his wrist, stopping him before he disappeared into the secret confines of his bedroom.Â
âYou okay?â Joel asked, once he was facing her again. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern, but that wasnât the way she wanted him to look at her. She shook her head, but it wasnât an answer to his question. It was more like she was trying to tell him that that was the wrong thing to ask. Or rather, the wrong thing to do.Â
âWhatâs wrong?â He inquired.Â
As it turned out, Joel was not a mind-reader. And since Y/N was too afraid to speak out loud about any of her desires, she did the next thing she could think of.Â
Her hands moved to grasp firmly against the lapels of his flannel. The floorboards beneath her creaked as she shifted onto her toes. She pulled Joel closerâ closer than heâs ever been. She squeezed her eyes shutâ almost like she was terrified when really this was all she wantedâ and then before either of them knew it, she slotted her mouth against his own in a fervid kiss.
Joel stilled under the soft touch of her lips, surprised by the action, heart thrumming in his chest as he wondered if this was real. But the hesitation only lasted a split second before he reciprocated her kiss, leaning into her. The eagerness of which had caused their bodies to shift so that Y/Nâs back was against the wall. She gasped against his lips, the grip on his shirt loosening.
He pulled away, but only slightly. His nose brushed against hers as he searched her eyes for any protests. He only found her pupils blown out with lust, paired with an indiscernible nod, a concession to keep going.Â
In an instant, his large hands were now cupping her face, calluses rough on her skin but she didnât mindâ in fact she relished in it. Her fingers twisted into his shirt once again as he traced her bottom lip with his tongue, pulling another soft gasp from her. He used that to his advantage, slipping his tongue against hers. She whimpered at the taste of him, earning a groan that rumbled deep in Joelâs chest, each of her sweet sounds causing an involuntary twitch from behind the zipper of his pants.Â
Joel was becoming more eager, selfish for more of that saccharine sound, his hands started to inch downwards. Smoothing over the curve of her neck, following the path of her shoulders, trailing down her arms, until his hands rested near the small of her back. He pulled her in closer, away from the wall. His fingers clutched onto the fabric of her dress. In a haze, he gathered more and more of the cotton within his hands, unknowingly exposing Y/Nâs skin as he did.
She shivered as the back of her thighs met the frigid air, and soon almost the curve of her ass. It brought more attention to the heat that was pooling between her legsâ A more intense version of a feeling that sheâs only felt a few times before. It was harsh and greedy and it only grew stronger as Joel detached himself from her lips.
A whine spilled over her tongue at the loss, but all was forgiven when he began to press ardent kisses to the skin of her neck. She arched her back into his large frame, bringing notice to her nipples pebbling under the lace of her bra, another moan escaped her lips. He returned the noise with his own grunt of pleasure as his beard scratched against her supple skin. Suddenly she was aware of every single part of him.Â
His lips sucking softly at the skin just below her jawline. His flannel-clad chest was strong and solid underneath her hands, heartbeat pulsing into her palms. His own larger hands pulled her closer between every groan that vibrated through his throat. And then there was the hard heat of him pressed against her lower stomach.
The sign of his arousal had caused an ache so deep within her core that it shocked her. It was new and exciting, but it was overwhelming and it made her afraid of the strength that her desires possessed. The burn of shame licked white hot against her skin.Â
Joelâ unaware of her inner turmoil as his lips kissed against the tendons in her neckâ was given quite a shock when her hands pushed him away with surprising strength. He stumbled backwards, back hitting the other wall of the hallway. His eyes were wide and fearful that he did something wrong. Cheeks splotched a pretty color of pink and his lips swollen from her kiss.
Y/N covered her face with her hands, embarrassment and immense arousal caused her shoulders to tremble.
âIâm sorry.â She squeaked between her fingers, âUm, Thank you for⊠that, but I shouldâŠâ
She backed away as she spoke, her sentence unfinished as she quickly escaped through the door to her bedroom. It slammed shut, abrasive in the action itself.Â
Joel stood with his back flush against the wall and a harsh strain against his zipper as he stared dumbfounded at the wood of her closed door.
~
Her humiliation kept her within the boundaries of her room the entire morning that next day, refusing to step even one foot out into the rest of the house until she knew Joel was gone. The sounds of his footsteps came and went just like they did every time he left for the docks. But Y/Nâs dread seemed to have projected itself into the way time moved.
It felt like ages before he was actually gone, almost to the point where it felt like he was dragging his feet, hesitating to go. Like he was waiting for something to happen.
But that couldnât have been the case, because Joel had his morning routine down to an art. So Y/N was convinced it was her own hallucination that caused time to move at such a snailâs pace.
Once the sound of the front door swinging shut rattled the foundation of their home, Y/N finally allowed herself to breathe. Just his very presence within this houseâ even separated by walls and other roomsâ had such a strong effect on her that she couldnât let herself recount the events of last night until she was certain she was completely alone.Â
And once those images returned to the forefront of her mind, she immediately pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes.Â
Though that only made the memory of it stronger through the stars that burst behind her eyelids from the hard press of her hands. A frustrated whine escaped her lips as she squirmed in her sheets. The movement of it caused her to take notice of the slick pooling in her panties, ever present since the first touch of Joelâs lips. Â
She rubbed her thighs together, trying to relieve some of the ache (though of course her efforts fell flat).Â
How was this at all possible? How was Joel able to pull such aggressive lust from just one single heated interaction?Â
Maybe it was because no one had ever touched her like that before.
The awkward, clumsy kisses she had shared with others in the past couldnât hold a candle to what Joel had done to her. Forgotten was the memory of her very first kiss, which was frail and timid like a wounded bird. Or those later in life which were nice and gentle, but nothing special. Those moments of her past were now replaced by a roaring beast of want and desire. Joel had made her feel like the world had shifted on its axis, that he shifted it himself with his own two calloused hands. Just for her. And that was only with the touch of his lips. What else was he capable of doing?Â
The sheets rustled under Y/Nâs weight as she quickly sat up in bed, regret stirring deep in her belly. She just realizedâ what with the way she reacted last nightâ she may never be able to find out. It was such a monumental milestone for their steady forming relationship and she had ended it by pushing him away and leaving him behind in the dark shadows of the hallway. She hadnât even spared a glance in his direction, his reaction to her abrupt dismissal will remain forever unknown.
Or at least until he returns home.
But that wouldnât be for another three days. Sure, luck was on the girls side since it was on the shorter side of his usual expeditions. But seventy-two hours left a lot of room for her overactive imagination to run rampant.Â
And she was now stewing on the outlandish conclusion that based on her reaction Joel would never want to touch her again. The frustration of that notion followed her throughout her morning.
It prickled at her skin as she stood in the shower, the hot water not doing enough to wash it away. Her skin was practically rubbed raw by the time she stepped out into the steamy bathroom, her hopes to scrub away her humiliation going down the drain, along with the lavender scented soap bubbles.Â
It caused her hands to shake, as she tugged the soft green fabric of her favorite dress over her head, the skirt of it swirling around her ankles as it fell into place. Y/N had thought if she wore her favorite clothing item that she might feel better about the whole situation.
But it didnât help.
In fact, none of the aspects of her usual morning routine had helped her calm her beating heart, or her racing mind, or even the arousal between her legsâ that, yes, was still there despite her forcing away any reminder of how it felt to have Joelâs lips on her skin.
She now stood at the kitchen counter, her eyes clenched shut as she begged her brain to conjure up any other image. But that just brought up a confusing mixture of childhood memories intertwined with the heavy sound of Joelâs breathing in her ear. Which made her feel shameful as she felt so much more different than the young restless girl she was back then. Was this the loss of her innocence? She supposed it was.
But then again, she was married to Joel. And these feelings were quite expected for a wife to feel towards her husband. There was no reason for her to feel ashamed by these thoughts, especially if they seemed reciprocatedâ brought forth by the evidence she felt last night pressing against her stomach.
The reminder brought heat up to her cheeks and that very same ache deep in her core when she had first felt it.Â
Y/N breathed in the air around her, dragging it into her lungs, pushing it out in a heavy wistful sigh. A flash of Joelâs hands flitted across her mind. Goosebumps littered her skin as she recalled the way his fingertips felt on the skin between her neck and shoulder.Â
Subconsciously she brought her own fingers to that very same spot. Tilting her head, she dragged her fingernails over her skin in slow circles, causing shivers to run up and down the length of her spine. She imagined how Joelâs hand was soon replaced by the soft touch of his lips, and her hand moved to her collarbone, a place she wished he had discovered with his tongue. Another sigh left her lips as her imagination replaced her hand with Joelâs. Her eyes were closed again, softer this time as she conjured up the fantasy.
Lips against skin. Hands wandering. Breathing heavy.
Though the tantalizing image soon vanished into the air like a bubble popping, when the sound of the front door slamming shut rang out through the tiny house. A gasp slipped from between her lips as she whipped around towards the intrusion. Her palm flush against her chest to calm her beating heart.
The sight of Joel standing in the doorway knocked the air out of Y/Nâs lungs. It was as if her improper thoughts had manifested him to be standing right there in front of her. The curls of his hair were askew, as if he had been running his fingers through it, over and over. His large chest was heaving with slow heavy breaths, the same way her own chest was moving.Â
He swallowed, the adam's apple in his throat bobbing. He shook his head slightly, his brows furrowed, and then he looked back towards the door he just walked through. As if he hadnât realized where he came from or what he was doing.
âJoel?â She questioned, her tone was breathless, desperate for something to fill the silence and tension that was slowly forming between them.
ââm sorry.â He breathed, when he turned back to her, his eyes shining with something that Y/N couldnât quite place. Was it surprise? Curiosity? âDidnât mean to scare ya.â
âWhat are you doing here?â She asked, somehow feeling brave enough to take a step forward. âI thought you were leaving on your trip?â
âI wasâ or I am.â He stumbled through the words. âIt just got delayed for a couple hours. There were some last minute repairs needed on the shipâŠâ
âAnd you had enough time to come back?â She questioned.
Joel paused, swallowing again. His eyes scaled over Y/N, taking in the look that resided behind her irises, the way she was breathing heavily, and how that green dress caressed her curves. She looked like she had just been caught in the act of something inappropriate, despite her just standing in the kitchen. An endeavor that was innocent in and of itself. Butâ godâ the look of her, standing there in the golden light streaming in from the window above the sink, she looked downright sinful. Or maybe that was his own lust taking control and projecting itself onto her.
A lust that had kept him on edge this entire morning. Throughout the night too, when he was restless in his bedâ remembering what happened between themâ tossing and turning like the ocean tide. It never relented, so much so that when Tommy told him they had a few extra hours, Joelâs feet were already moving back towards his truck so that he could spend that time with Y/N. In this house. And even though he told himself to behave when he walked through the front door, It persisted. Even now as he stood in front of her, taking in the sight of her blown out pupils, eyes darkened with what he hoped was that very same lust.Â
âI forgot somethinââ He then said, as he realized she was still expecting an answer. âHad to come back to get it.â
âOh⊠alright.â She replied, blinking as if she were just pulled from a trance. âWhat was it? I can help you look for it.â
Joel shook his head, deliberately this time. He took a step forward, the tension growing thicker as he did. His brown eyes held her stare. âI know where it is.â
His words were soft as they rolled off his tongue, causing an involuntary shiver to forge its way through Y/Nâs bones. It was much more forceful than what she had felt under her own touch, only a few minutes prior. Joel must have taken notice of the effect that his voice had over her body, as he dragged in a low shuddering breath.
He took another step forward. And then another. And another, until he joined her in the kitchen, standing right in front of her, their chests only centimeters apart. Y/N had to tilt her head up to be able to look him in the eye. Which she was shocked she was brave enough to do, considering how he looked like he wanted to devour her.
âWhat are you doing?â She whispered, her eyes flicking down to his mouth as Joel dragged his tongue over his bottom lip. The sight of it was magnetic, pulling her in so that her chest was now brushing against his with every breath.Â
âTell me to stop.â He said, his voice in that same hushed tone. âTell me to stop, and I will.â
Y/N, defiant in her own nature, replied. âWhat was it that you forgot?â
âI didnât forget anythinâ.â Joel told her, honestly, his fingers moving to pinch at a piece of her flowing skirt. As if the small action would keep her right there in front of him. Where he was desperate to have her. Hoping that it would keep her in place instead of having her running away like last time.Â
âItâs more likeâŠâ He continued, tilting his head down so that his forehead rested against hers. She gasped at the skin contact, relief flooding her form as she quickly realized his touch wasnât lost to her like she had feared. âSomethinâ I regret not doinâ.â
âAnd what do you regret, Mr. Miller?â She murmured, her eyes averted to the floor beneath their feet. The surname fell out of her mouth unexpectedly, as if garnering his respect would grant her the knowledge of his secret.
âWell, Mrs. MillerâŠâ The reminder that she shared that very surname with him by holy matrimony caused a jolt of surprise to coarse through her veins. But it was replaced with satisfaction soon enough. She marveled at the fact that she wasnât exactly bothered by the concept, in fact she almost relished in it. And then Joel said his next words.
 âI can show you exactly what that is⊠if youâll let me.â
She didnât have it in her to speak. Any reply that she couldâve had was lost in the back of her throat. All she could do was to nod eagerly, any shame she couldâve had at her desperation was tossed out the window.
âI need you to use your words.â Joel said in response to her movements, his voice hoarse as if he were holding himself back and the action of doing so was terribly difficult.Â
âIâ Yes⊠please, Joel.â She whispered, her breath fanning across his cheeks. âI want you to show me.â
This time, Joel was the first to bring their lips together in a zealous kiss. The green fabric that resided between his forefinger and thumb was soon shifted to be gripped by his hands as he pulled her in. Their bodies were now flushed together. The softness of her breasts pushing into the solid form of his chest. Simultaneous sighs of relief intermingled on their tongues when they finally let themselves melt into one another.
Y/N gasped into his mouth when his teeth nipped at the plush skin of her bottom lip. She had already known how brash he was with his movements from their kiss last night, but now it seemed as if all of his inhibitions were lost to him, his hands now smoothing over the curve of her ass. Joelâs fingers gripped at the supple flesh through her dress, pulling her waist into his own.Â
She moaned at his touch, as well as the sign of his arousal digging into her hip. Her arms shifted to wrap around his broad shoulders, her fingers digging into the muscles on his back, urging him to move closer, if that were even possible.Â
And in this instance, she wasnât disappointed by the loss of his lips, because he was quick to replace them somewhere else on her skin. It was as if he had to kiss every inch of her before he moved on to undiscovered territory. Joelâs lips were kissing at the corners of her lips, and the apples of her cheeks before he moved down to her jawline.Â
Though this was where he became more selfish in his actions, nipping at the skin so he could hear the sweet little whimpers that would waver from between her lips. Then he would lick over the bruised skin, soothing her of the slight pain he mightâve caused, heart hammering at the soft sighs of satisfaction she gifted him. Joel groaned at the sounds she made, relishing in the glory of every moan, whine and sigh. He could feel as he grew harder against the strain of his pants, the pain of it almost too much to bear. But this wasnât about him. Instead, it had everything to do with the woman arching into his lips.
Thick fingers curled around the square neckline of Y/Nâs lovely dress, knuckles brushing against her sternum as he tugged down at the fabric. A sharp gasp rang out into the air as her sleeves slid down her arms, allowing the exposure of her nipples to cold morning air, already hardened by her arousal to the man committing these actions. The flesh of her breasts bouncing slightly from the momentum in which he moved.Â
Joel pulled his mouth away from her, eager to get a look.
Y/N could feel herself flush under his stare, suddenly shy as he drank in this new image of her. She wanted to look away and hide in her self-consciousness, but she couldnât take her eyes off of his dilated pupils and the endearing shade of pink that tinted his cheekbones. A burning need was flashing across his brown irises, the sight of it sparking an odd sense of confidence in the woman. She straightened her shoulders, letting him look at her. Because he would be the only man who would ever get to see her like this.Â
He groaned again, at the sight of her perked nipples paired with her newfound boldness.
âSâ pretty.â He mumbled, smoothing a large hand up over her breast, he could feel the pebbled skin pricking into his rough palm. She hummed at the compliment as well as his touch. Though a second later it was replaced with a harsh âahââ pulled from her lips when his hand shifted so that he could pinch at her nipple.Â
It was the most torturous form of pleasure she had ever felt in her life. That was until he guided her body until she could feel the kitchen table digging into her lower back. His free hand gripped at the flesh under her ass, lifting her up and making it so that she was now sat against the surface. With her now stationary on the table, he was able to bend over, lips finding purchase on the nipple that wasnât trapped between his fingers.
A high pitched moan was ripped from her throat as she subconsciously spread her legs, Joelâs hips fitting perfectly in the space between her thighs. Her hand splayed out on the wood behind her as she arched into his tongue that was now currently swirling lazy circles around the sensitive bud. And though she had never done anything like this before, her hips started to move in the only way that seemed natural. The only way that seemed to relieve the ache that pulsed between her legs.
Y/N rolled her hips up into Joel, the hardness of him firm against her clothed center, soaked from her constant arousal since their first kiss. She wondered if she would make a mess of the pants he was wearing, but the thought was fleeting once Joel pulled away from her skin.
âFuck.â He stammered, resting his forehead in the valley of her breasts, his brown curls tickling her skin. âD-donât do that, darlinâ.âÂ
Y/N stilled. âWhy? Did I hurt you?â
He laughed breathlessly, the air of it fanning over Y/Nâs chest. âNo, nothing like that⊠Just feels tâ good.â
âOh.â She said, a bit bashfully, but a small smile tugged at her kiss-bruised lips. Pride started to swell deep in her stomach at the admission that she made him feel just as good. And that idea was too precious to pass up on. âThen maybe I should keep doing that.â
She grinded her hips against him again, forcing him to remove himself from her chest, sucking in a harsh breath. His hand shot out, gripping onto the supple flesh of her inner thigh, now exposed as the skirt of her dress had shifted during their hectic movements.Â
âPlease, sweetheart.â Joel begged, his nails digging into her leg. âYou gotta stop.â
âBut I wanna make you feel good.â She pouted, hips stilled by the brace he instilled upon her. Joel released a shaky breath, moving his forehead to rest on Y/Nâs once more. His gaze was averted to the green fabric bunched up under her breasts, his brown eyes lost to her.
âYou have no idea how much I want thatâ how long Iâve wanted that.â He murmured. âBut I came back here for a reason.â
His voice sounded more determined by the end of his sentence. In doing so, it made the womanâs tone that much smaller, but she was still quite the contrarian to his words.
âI thought this was the reason.â She countered, sliding her hand up behind his neck, fingers toying with the curls at the base of his hairline. This time it was him shivering under her touch.
A soft smile curled upon Joelâs lips, he shook his head against her forehead, in slight laughter. âNo. Itâs close to what I was picturinâ... but not quite.â
âThen what were you picturing?â She asked.
Joel leaned back, finally gracing her with the sight of his eyes, He didnât answer her question, only holding an excruciating form of eye contact with the woman. And then, the once rough fingers that had tugged at her clothing and groped at her flesh were now trailing soft patterns into the skin of her thigh. Y/Nâs breath hitched in her throat as they started to move closer to the spot between her legs. The ache she felt for him was now burning with great white heat.
Her own hands were gripping in their respective areas, meaning one was tugging at Joel's hair, pulling satisfied groans from his lips, while the other was locked around the edge of the table. Her hips jutted forward by their own accord when his fingertips skirted around the edge of her panties.
âJoel.â She whined, frustrated by his featherlight touch, though strangely enough also reveling in his gentle caress.Â
âI know.â He whispered, dropping his head onto her shoulder. âI know⊠Iâll give you what you wantâ just let meâŠâ
He splayed his large hand onto her thigh, pushing against it so that sheâd spread out wider for him. There was no resistance from her, only eager relinquishment. There was a harsh twitch of his cock at the thought that she would let him do anything with her, along with the idea that her body was all his for the taking. A covet he never thought would come into fruition.Â
âPlease, Joel.â She urged again, and Joel realized right then that he was just as much hers as she was his. He would do anything for her. His body ached to give her exactly what she wanted.Â
So he did.
Y/N gasped when his thumb pressed firmly against the darkened spot on her panties, a similar gasp falling from Joelâs lips when he finally learned how wet she truly was. And it was all for him.Â
He moved his digit at an agonizing pace, moving in slow circles around the most sensitive part of her, not even sparing a fleeting touch to the bud of nerves. The torture of it all was exquisite. Y/Nâs head fell backwards as she moaned, the tendons of her neck stretched out in front of Joel, the sight of it too enticing for his own good. He leaned forward, touching his lips against her skin.Â
Now having to focus on two things at once, his movements against her core became sloppy, and his touch harshened, slipping over Y/Nâs clit. An embarrassing squeal forced its way from her throat as she jutted her hips fiercely into Joelâs thumb. He grinned against her skin.
âOh, you liked that, didn't you?â He chuckled, placing more kisses down her neck, his beard scratching her skin as he moved. Y/N had a response to his teasing tone, perhaps it was even quick-witted, but it was stolen from her lips and replaced with another desperate moan when his tongue swirled around her nipple.
It was all becoming too much with every tiny ministration he committed on her skin. She felt as though she could burst into flames. Little did she know that it would all come to a head when Joel would kiss his way down her body, heavy knees dropping to the floor. There was no patience left within him when he practically ripped Y/Nâs panties off of her body, hands roughly pushing her thighs apart.
âJ-Joel, what are you doing?â She questioned, forearms braced against the table, being pushed back further up the furniture as Joel started nipping at her inner thigh, goosebumps following in his wake
ââm doinâ what I came here for.â He mumbled into her skin, teeth grazing the malleable flesh. She was about to ask exactly what that might be, but the question was answered when he licked a long stripe through her slick folds.
Curses tumbled out of Y/Nâs lips as he used his mouth on her. Never in a million years would she imagine that he would do something so⊠obscene. And she never would have anticipated how much she loved it. Her eyes were wide as she marveled at the sight of him. His brown eyes were staring back up at her from over her mound, drinking in every little reaction he spurred from her. His hair was wild, the look of it brought on by Y/Nâs fingers as she ran them through the tendrils, forcing him closer and closer. And then there were the noises of him slurping and groaning and relishing in the taste of her.Â
At the beginning, Joel was slow with his actions, his tongue going up and down the length of her slit. Again he would frustratingly avoid touching her clit, tracing big circles around the bud, building up anticipation deep in Y/Nâs stomach. But as he continued, every so often he would flick over it pulling more whimpers from Y/Nâs throat. He would moan against her folds in satisfaction, the vocalizations causing slight vibrations to run through her entire form.Â
Y/Nâs head fell with a soft thump against the table, her back arching up into the air, squirming under Joelâs actions. A hand snaked up from Y/Nâs thigh, placing itself on her sternum. His palm was rough against the skin between her bare breasts, holding her down and keeping her in place.Â
Finally, seemingly deciding that the woman had been through enough torture, Joel wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking on it harshly. She all but screamed at this new sensation overcoming her, her right leg slipping over his left shoulder, unknowingly trapping him in place. They were locked in a heated tryst, his hand still braced on her chest, her calf pushing into his back and Joelâs mouth and tongue were still unrelenting.Â
She couldnât help but to twist her fingers into his hair, tugging him closer against her cunt, she grinded her hips into his face, any tribulations that she might be hurting him lost in her pleasure. But if only she knew how much Joel adored her desperate nature as she chased after her high on his tongue. In fact he had never been this hard in his life. He could feel himself dripping inside of his pants, making a mess of his boxers as precum spilled from his tip with every twitch of his cock. His hips were thrusting into the air beneath the table in his own desperation. The seam of his zipper was rubbing firmly against the length of him. Joel honestly would not be surprised if he ended up cumming without even having to touch himself.
And as it turned out, eventually he would.
Joelâs name was now falling freely from between Y/Nâs lips in broken fragments. The movements of her hips were becoming clumsy, stuttering as Joel continued to lick at her clit, groaning everytime she pulled at his hair. The heat burning low in her stomach began to grow hotter and more incessant. And with one more deliberate move of Joelâs tongue against her clit, it all began to burst.
The sight of Y/N cumming was the prettiest thing Joel had ever seen. Her head was thrust back against the table, supple lips drawn open as more of her moans escaped into the air, along with the sound of his name. Her whole body was tensing and shaking as the waves of her orgasm washed over her body. Joelâs mouth was ruthless on her cunt, drinking anything she had to offer him as the proof of her orgasm splashed over his tongue. The sight of her, as well as the taste of her, was all too much to bear as his own hips involuntarily jutted into nothing, the confines of his pants working against him in a way that had him finishing. He shuddered at the sensation, his shoulders trembling as he could feel his own cum spill into the fabric of his underwear. He whimpered into Y/Nâs cunt, breathing sharply out of his nose, still trying to coax her down from her own orgasm as her body became limp and her breathing heavy, until finally everything started to slow down.Â
Searching hands groped around until they finally found purchase on Joelâs shoulders. She tugged at his shirt, forcing him away from her oversensitive core and out from between her legs.Â
She was met with eyes blown out with lust and a fading orgasm, red lips parted in amazement and beard shining with her cum. His clothes were askew and his brown curls were all over the place. He looked completely out of it. Though she probably couldnât say she was much better.
And Joel admired the image of it as he stood above her. She blinked up at him, leaning back on her elbows, a look of pure wonderment painting her features. Her green dress was bunched around her middle, nipples still perked in the cool air of the kitchen, her chest stuttering with every breath. He smiled softly at her, leaning to snake a hand around her waist, pulling her up into a sitting position, her hands instinctively looping around his broad shoulders.
âYou alright?â He asked gently as he stood her on shaking legs, the skirt of her dress now falling back in place. She shivered when she felt the touch of his knuckles on her chest once again as he shifted the top of her dress back in its proper position.
âIâ um⊠yeah.â She said breathlessly, words lost to her in her post-orgasmic state. Joel couldnât help but grin at her flustered demeanor, bringing a hand up to her cheek. She was grateful for his touch, leaning into his hand as he caressed her cheekbone with his thumb. He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to her lips causing Y/N to taste herself upon his skin.
âDid you⊠get what you were looking for?â Y/N questioned, once they pulled apart. Earning soft laughter deep from within Joelâs chest. The sound of it quirking up the corners of Y/Nâs lips in a shy smile, pride swelling in her belly since she was the one who caused it.
âThat I did, sweetheart.â He smiled, running a hand over her hair, his eyes sparking with contentment. Her shy smile morphed into that of a bright grin, pulling him back in towards her to share a deeper kiss. He groaned into her lips, unexpected for the both of them as another surge of lust sparked between them, seemingly unsatisfied by what they had just finished. She whimpered back into his mouth as tongues started probing and teeth nipping once again. At a particularly boisterous moan from Y/N, Joel had to pull away.Â
âW-wait.â He breathed, âIâ We canât, we donât have time. I have to go back.â
Y/N deflated at his words, but ultimately nodded her head in understanding. She took a step back from him, needing the distance to quell her need to melt into him once more. Though Joelâs fingers quickly wrapped around her own, stopping her from moving away any further.
âYouâll still be here when I get back, yeah?â He asked, the question causing Y/Nâs heart to drop down to her stomach. As she looked at him she found insecurities scrawled across his features. Maybe she hadnât done enough to convince him that she wasnât going anywhere. Or perhaps this was leftover from pain he endured in the past. She brought his hand up, brushing her lips across his knuckles in a sweet kiss, and then covered that spot with her free hand.
âI promise.â She whispered, her gaze locked on his searching eyes, flickering over her features, trying to find the truth. When he found nothing but her earnest smile he felt brave enough to go, but not before leaving her with one more breathless kiss.Â
Y/N had watched silently as he got ready to leave, washing his face with the bar of hand soap left on the side of the kitchen sink. She didnât say anything as he readjusted his clothes and threw his bag over his shoulder. And she didnât beg him to stay when he finally placed that final kiss upon her lips. All she did was sink further and further into the throes of missing him, despite the fact that he was right in front of her.
It only grew stronger as he whispered more promises of continuing when he returned three days later. She held onto that promise, close to her chest like a dying flame, watching as the view of his truck disappeared over the horizon.Â
She prayed to the gods above that time would fly quickly.
Though perhaps she shouldâve been praying for something else entirely.Â
Because later that night and hundreds of miles out from the shoreline, a little ship bobbed at sea. The workers on deck scrambled in preparation. Worry stiffened their brows. Prayers to Poseidon fell from their lips. A soft pattern of rain began to sprinkle over their heads, it was unassuming in its very nature. But that was just the first sign of the oncoming danger as they headed into the eye of the storm.Â
Three days came and went.
Joel had yet to return home.Â
Y/N knew that the life of a fisherman was dangerous and unpredictable, she had heard many stories, most of which when she was younger, whispered to her by her classmates as they relayed the most gory details from the sad news of a shipwreck. Some were overheard at the local pub, traumatic events recounted around a bottle of brandy as fishermen tried to top each other's stories.
Frankly, these stories hardly bothered the young woman like it did to others in town. She couldnât indulge in the disturbance of it all because the way these stories were told, relayed like an unattainable fairytale. It was all folklore in her mind. She was certain that nothing like that could ever affect any aspect of her life.
She was eating her words now.Â
It was on the sixth day that Joel was gone when she heard that it was a storm that delayed their ship, knocking it off its course.
The information was brought to her front doorstep by her very own father, who in his old age made the trek across the island to do so. This left Y/Nâs stomach unsettled, for he would never go to such great lengths unless something truly terrible had occurred.Â
She was reminded of the day her mother died. He adorned the same face that painted his features now. Eyes downcasted, lower lip trembling, hands twisting around his patched cap. He was sitting on one of the wooden chairs strewn around the kitchen table. Y/N was leaned up against the counter, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
âWe didnât get the message until early this morning. Radio was down, they barely got it workinâ when they reached us...â He said quietly, to the toes of his boots.
âAnd?â Y/N urged, knowing her father had more to say.
âThey lost a few men.â He said quickly, as if he couldnât stand to have the words left on his tongue. Y/N sucked in a breath. She turned around, facing the window over the sink. She braced her palms on the counter, vision blurring as tears pricked the corner of her eyes.
âDid they say who?â She asked, words choked between her tightening vocal cords, constricting from her tears.
âNo, couldnât keep the signal for long enough.â He murmured, she could hear him stand, the legs of the chair squeaking against the tile. âBut they did say theyâll be returning by this evening.â
Y/N whipped around at that, her features twisted in vexation. The lead buried so much deeper than it needed to be. She would have to keep her annoyance left unsaid, however, as now there was no time to waste.Â
She brushed past her father hastily, ignoring the way her name was called after her as she staggered around the living room, clumsy in the way she tugged her boots over her feet. Her jacket was long forgotten on the hook by the door as she hurried outside, the thought of it only coming once the cool winds whipped at her exposed arms and cheeks. But she wouldnât turn back for it. Her adrenaline kept her warm, anyways.
It was a two hour walk to get to the docks. Beads of sweat ran down her spine, blisters pinched at the heels of her feet, her breathing was labored as she pushed her anxiety out of her lungs. Though none of that mattered. All she knew was that she had to get to the docks. She had to get to him. If he was even thereâŠ
She swiped angrily at the tears that now carved pathways down the skin of her cheeks. Never in her life had she ever been able to keep her emotions at bay, she was always willing to scream at the sky and cry til her throat was raw. That fact was unchanging even as she grew older. So she let her tears fall. They didnât distract from her current mission, anyhow. Her eyes were set on the small town that appeared over the horizon.Â
The whole town congregated at the docks. Passersby stood on the cobblestone streets, their inherent nosiness ill-concealed by their feigned looks of concern. Whispers flitted between them as if this were all just a dramatized show to keep them entertained. Y/N let no apologies slip through her lips as she pushed her way through them, knocking into their shoulders and earning glares as she did.Â
When her footsteps rang out on the wood of the dock that's when she was surrounded by the people like her. Family members worried for their loved ones lost at sea. They all stood silently as their eyes were set towards the ocean, hands clutched in prayer, whispering hopes that it wasnât their spouse, parent or child who lost their life to an unrelenting sea. Y/N was too impatient to do the same. She just stood and waited for any kind of sign that Joel would be home soon.
It came only thirty minutes later. When a small boy at the front of the dock screeched in anticipation, pointing out a small dot wavering in the distance. Y/Nâs stomach swooped down in a mixture of hope and apprehension. She was terrified to learn the truth of what happened.
But twenty minutes after that, the truth had arrived as the ship pulled in with the tide. Everyone advanced closer to where the fisherman would eventually unboard. Y/N stayed behind, her feet frozen to where she stood. Maybe she was trying to delay the inevitable.Â
Relieved cries and overjoyed calling of names soon swirled into the evening air as loved ones were reunited. Warm embraces and fervent kisses were exchanged between them. But it was all backtracked by the ones who received news of a death, heartbreaking wails mixing in with the sound of reunion.
It was an unsettling cacophony of sounds. The way love and loss intertwined within one another. Two sides of the same coin. And Y/N still had yet to know which one she was on.Â
Her hands were shaking. Her sight was restricted by the many heads that stood in front of her. She scanned each face, none of them holding the warm brown eyes sheâs grown accustomed to. Her stomach sank deeper and deeper, her throat started to constrict again, a sob threatened to burst out from between her trembling lips.
She couldnât hold it back once she registered a mess of brown and gray curls making its way through the crowd. The sob released itself, though not in anguish as she had thought, it was instead paired with the most intense form of relief she had ever known. Her feet started to move by their own accord.
His name fell desperately from her lips.Â
Joel stilled once he heard the sound of it. Brown eyes wild as he searched frantically for where it was coming from. When they found her through a split in the crowd, Y/N was met with the same look of relief she knew was apparent within her own irises.Â
His stride lengthened as he worked fast to cut the distance between them. As she drew nearer, he registered the tear stains on her supple skin, fresh ones following the same path. His heart lurched at the sight, the overwhelming need to hold her burning his skin. Burning hotter as she drew nearer. Setting him ablaze when she was right in front of him.Â
He tossed his bag to the side in favor of wrapping his arms around her. He relished in the way she sank into his arms, curling into his chest. He felt how her heartbeat pounded against her ribs, beating in the same pattern as his own. Joel held onto her even tighter.
âYou scared the hell out of me.â She cried, tone muffled by his cable knit sweater as she hid her face in his warmth. A large hand smoothed over the back of her head, bringing her in even closer if that was even possible. His nose dropped down into her hair, the scent of her invading his senses, comforting him. He was back home. Safe. And she was here waiting for him.Â
âI know, baby, Iâm sorry.â He murmured, the nickname falling freely in his solace.Â
She didnât seem to mind.Â
They returned home just as the sun dipped below the horizon, losing the orange hues of the sunset to a dark velvet sky littered with stars. The journey was much easier on the way back now that they had Joelâs old truck that was waiting for him down by the docks. As well as the fact that the reassurance of Joelâs return replaced the heavy feeling of fear that had haunted Y/N for the past three days.
They were greeted by a homemade meal, left behind by Y/Nâs father. A gift either of consolation or celebration. She was grateful it was the latter.Â
And once their bellies were full and the pain of the day was washed away in soothing streams of hot water, the two of them stood in the hallway once again. Y/N was unsure of what to do. Less than a week ago they had crossed a boundary she hadnât even dreamed of. Now they were standing at the precipice of something even greater. And since Joel was safe at home once again, the anticipation to act on it was dripping from the walls.Â
Was she ready for such a feat? Was Joel expecting something like this to happen? Nerves brought a tremor to her hands.Â
Meanwhile, Joel could feel the tips of his ears burning at the memory of what happened the last time they were alone together. Her moans had him weak in the knees, her skin was soft to the touch, things he only knew since Y/N had made the first move in this very hallway. A bolder woman than what stood in front of him now, as her eyes stayed glued to the floor, her breathing fragmented from timidity.
His gaze softened as he took in the sight of her.
âI donât know what youâre expectinâ to happen...â He breathed, a soft smile turning up the corners of his mouth, âBut I can assure you itâs not what youâre thinkinâ...â
Y/Nâs eyes flickered up at the teasing lilt to his words. She was met with a mischievous gleam in those brown eyes as he repeated the very first thing she ever said to him. She couldnât help her own grin that bloomed across her lips.Â
At her smile, he felt brave enough to bring a hand up to her cheek.Â
âYou have nothing to worry about, darlinââ He then murmured, stroking his thumb over the soft skin. She leaned in his touch, peering up at him through her lashes. âWe donât have to do anythinâ.â
âI want to.â She whispered back, her words causing his breath to hitch in his throat. âEventually⊠but tonightâŠâ
He nodded, removing his touch from her face. âI understand.â
The floorboards creaked as he took a step back. But surprise shot up his spine when she moved to clutch his fallen hand with both of her own.Â
âBut tonight could you just lay with me?â She quickly added.
She looked up at him expectantly, the plush of her bottom lip dragged between her teeth. He let out a low labored breath.
âY-yeah.â He nodded, the word weak on his tongue. He was afraid that if he spoke any louder he might scare her off. Though the grip of her fingers locked around his palm proved to him that she was there to stay. A reassurance he was always grateful for.Â
Y/N tugged at his hand, urging him to follow as she guided their way into her bedroom. It was an odd choice, considering the master bedroom was just right there and the bed was bigger. But to be invited into her private sanctuary was an opportunity he would never pass on. So his feet followed eagerly.
It was dark in the room when they entered and it stayed that way as no one made a move to turn on the light. Unfortunately, what she had done to make the bedroom her own was lost to his eyes, but that regret was soon forgotten as he heard the squeak of mattress springs and the shuffling of blankets.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he found Y/Nâs form on the bed in front of him, he stood on the side, basking in the glory of this moment.Â
âCome here.â Her whisper found him through the dark. His stomach swooped at the sultry sound of her voice. But he ignored any provocative thoughts that wormed its way into his brain. Instead, he obeyed her command, the mattress dipping as he slid under the covers beside her.
In an instant, his senses were invaded by her scent as well as her warmth. There was only an inch or two of distance between them. Both lying on their backs, staring up at the ceiling, afraid to move, afraid to breathe.
A sharp intake of breath rang out from Joel when the touch of her fingertips smoothed over his open palm in the space between them. Naturally, his own digits curled around hers. He heard as she sighed happily from his reciprocation.Â
And somehowâ despite how fast his heartbeat was when he had her writhing under his tongue only a few days prior, it was nothing compared to the small gentle act of holding her hand.
~
Joel was up before the sun.
As was the case every morning, since his body's internal clock was intune with the demanding schedule his occupation thrusted upon him. So he was used to opening his eyes to a darkened world, not yet warmed by rays of sunlight.
Though today was slightly different. He wasnât woken by the natural fluttering of his eyelids as his dreams from that night slipped away; Instead it was the press of another personâs form against his body, an arm draped over his torso, legs intertwined between his own, head resting on his chest.
He stiffened once he remembered where he was and who it was.
Y/N.
She was warm through the fabric of their pajamas. So much so that Joel didnât even miss the warmth of the sun like he usually did during these dark and frigid mornings. A deep contented sigh pushed through the structure of his chest, Y/Nâs head moving in time with his breathing. The movement elicited a small whine from her lips.
The sound had his heart racing yet again, reminding him of the other noises she was capable of making.
Those noises had been replaying over and over in Joelâs mind ever since he was blessed to hear themâ even better, to create them with the touch of his own hands and lips. He brought the memory with him when he was on that small boat, miles out at sea, restless in his cot as he ached to return home to her.Â
When they were caught in the throes of that storm all he could think about was her. The drive of it kept him alive throughout the chaos.Â
Now here he was, sharing in her warmth, despite the awkward navigation of their newfound forms of intimacy. Anticipation surged through his muscles, pulling away the last dregs of sleep that had plagued his limbs.Â
Joel cursed under his breath as something else began to stir to life.Â
This was a young man's game. He was in over his head with the feelings she evoked from him. Never in his life had he experienced anything quite like this. The way every part of his body begged for every part of hers. Everything heâd felt for those before her was just a crude imitation of what he felt for her at this very moment. It was almost an insult to compare. Nothing could ever compare..
And he had no idea what he was supposed to do.Â
Which was funny. Because this woman was his wife. She was the one person he should feel this for. But with the way they had started Joel wasnât sure what he was allowed to take what he wanted. Was he allowed to be selfish the way he wanted to? Everything surrounding the two of them was delicate. And Joel was terrified of breaking it with his large and clumsy hands. Â
For now he would just have to hold himself back. Be gentle in the way that he navigated this unknown territory. Which meant he had to do the hardest thing in the world.Â
He had to get out of this bed.Â
Slowly and cautiously he detangled his limbs from the woman beside him. He trained his eyes on her face, searching for any sign that his movements were waking her up. The line between her eyebrows showed itself when her cheek lost the firm foundation of his chest, but thatâ and a few incoherent mumblesâ was all that occurred as he slipped himself out of her bed. Luckily, she seemed to be a sound sleeper as she curled up into herself without Joelâs warmth.Â
Joel stood above her, almost caught in a trance from how disgruntled she looked now that he was gone, proof of the effect he had on her as well. A small smile danced on his lips. And then he allowed himself one indulgence as he leaned over to brush a faint kiss over her forehead. He felt her features smooth under his lips, seemingly content with his departing gift.
~
To wake up alone in a cold empty bed was not what Y/N had expected that morning. There were a few instances during the night, when her dreams took a pause that she would wake up, eyes blinking in the dark. And she quickly grew accustomed to the strong presence that Joel was. The soft steady sound of his snores was a comfort to the girlâs ears as they rumbled through his chest. At some point in the night his strong arms had encircled around her waist, pulling her into his warmth.
That very same warmth, having been taken away from her, was now sorely missed. She stretched an arm out over the expanse of her bed, fingers groping at where Joel once lay.Â
She supposed she shouldâve expected to wake up like this, considering how early he left every morning. But she would have thought she wouldâve woken up when the time came. At least long enough to spare a goodbye before he headed off to work.Â
Disappointment sat heavy over her form like a stormy rain cloud. Y/N tried not to dwell on it, but as always her feelings were too strong to contain, so throughout the whole rest of the day she moved about the house wistful in demeanor. Yearning for Joel despite the fact he would be home in a few hours time.Â
Was this usually how it happened when you start to feel this way towards someone? Like your whole world stops turning when they arenât near? Whatever the case, she knew that these feelings were not to be taken lightly. There was a rarity to them that made her heart much more precious to the woman. She felt like she needed to keep it safe, deep in her pocket where no harm would find it, and no one would be able to see the extremities of her feelings.
And thatâs where she kept it as her restless feet wandered into town.Â
But as she walked, something funny happened. Everywhere she looked, everything seemed so much brighter. The people who passed her by greeted her with warm âhelloâsâ and âhow are youâsâ. Kids were laughing as they played in the street, laughing. There were lovers in front of shops holding hands and exchanging stolen kisses. Birds were singing. The sun was⊠shining? Everything that used to be dreary about the island, everything that Y/N hated, had somehow flipped to be the exact opposite of what it used to be. Or perhaps⊠it had always been like this and she just hadnât noticed, too caught up in her own pretension and desperate need to escape.Â
Perhaps this island really did live up to its name.
Why was it that she had just noticed this now? What had changed?
She thought of her beating heart, hidden in her deepest pocket. And then froze in her tracks.Â
She was reminded of something. Something she had only heard in the old sea-shanties her father used to sing while he cooked. In the stories her mother used to whisper to her at bedtime. And that used to worm her way into her dreams late at night, planting the idea that she had to escape in the first place. She had to go find it.Â
It was love.
And it hit her like a ton of bricks.Â
Well, not the love part, that made sense to her as the loose ends were finally tied together. What surprised her the most was that she didnât have to travel to the furthest reaches of the earth to find it. It had been on this very island the whole entire time. And it was fated to be shared with the man she was hell-bent against marrying.Â
Incredulous laughter began to bubble out of her throat. So much so that she had to brace herself on her knees as she gasped for air. She was definitely living up to her reputation as the crazy woman, earning strange glances from passersby. But she didnât care. She never cared. All she really cared about was burning passionate love, thatâs what she had been yearning for all her life. And she was almost too stupid to realize that it was right under her nose.
Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong!
The clocktower in town was chiming at the start of the new hour. Five oâclock⊠It pulled Y/N out of her unexpected fit of laughter. Joel would be on his way home right at this very moment. And without thinking twice, the woman began to run.
~
Joel returned to an empty house. This wasnât entirely unusual, as there were some days Y/N would be out in the garden, lounging on the porch swing she loved oh-so much, having lost track of time. He would always find her, caught in the middle of a fascinating passage, one she couldnât tear her eyes from. The idea of dinner would not have crossed her mind, as it was often lost in the clouds.
He never minded that, though. In fact, he quite liked finding her like that because then it meant that he would get the chance to be by her side while they made their meal together. And he also couldnât lie about the fact that he enjoyed seeing the image of her, so carefree, with her knees tucked beneath her, skin glowing underneath the evening sun. He would always take a moment to stop and watch her, drinking in the sight of her peace before having to force her out of it.
A small smile spread across his lips at the thought heâd catch her like that now. His heavy footfalls rang out into the quiet household as he crossed the floor towards the back door. His anticipation flickered deep in his stomach once more, excited to see her.
But he was left in disappointment and slight worry when he was greeted with the sight of an empty porch swing. It looked so much sadder without her presence, the loss of her making obvious the peeling white paint and rusted chains that made the furniture what it was. Lackluster without her. A feeling now all too familiar to Joel as he searched the rest of the house, finding empty room after empty room.
He had seen this before. Lived through it. Deja vu in the form of his ex wife whittled its way into his brain. He recalled the day he found her missing. How he felt when he realized she wasnât coming back. This was so much worse. Because now it was Y/N.
The woman he had unexpectedly fallen for, head over heels. The woman who promised him she wouldnât do the same and that she would stay right here with him in this house.
It mustâve been too much to ask for. Joel must have wanted too much. Taken too much. She must have come to her senses and realized the potential she was wasting in a marriage with an old man like him. Dread was quick to overtake him, he knew that much. But he had never been a lucky man. Everything he ever loved was always lost to him. Why would anything change now?
Joel found himself sitting on the front step of his porch, head clutched in his hands. He wasnât exactly sure what it was that brought him out there. Maybe he needed the fresh air to rid the panic in his lungs. Or maybe it was that flicker of hope that still burned within his heart. Maybe she would return home to him. If his hopes werenât for nothing.
âJoel?â
His head snapped up to find Y/N standing in front of him. She was out of breath, a sheen of sweat covering her skin, causing her to glow brighter than she usually did. Her irises sparked with worry as she took in the sight of his hunched form on the porch. Though once he registered that she was really there, standing in front of him, he shot to his feet.
âY/N.â He replied, his voice riddled with a confusing tone of surprised awe, eyes thick with relief. The girlâs brows furrowed. He took the remaining two steps down to where she stood, his hands bracing themselves on her shoulders.
âWhere were you?â He questioned, somewhat angrily, though through that she could see a form of desperation hiding behind it all.
âIâm sorry I wasâ I just came from town.â She answered, having not yet fully caught her breath, the words were hushed between her overworked lungs.Â
âWhy didnât you tell me?â He practically begged out the question. âI couldâve brought you home.â
âIâm sorry.â She said earnestly, wrapping her fingers around his wrists. âI didnât think of it. I was in a hurry to get back.â
âWhy?âÂ
She looked down at the ground between their feet, the distance between them small, soon to become even smaller, she was sure. A bashful smile crept up onto her lips.Â
âI wanted to see you.â She murmured, eyes still averted as a slight heat pinched at her cheeks. Somehow it was much harder to face him, now that she had put a name to what she had been feeling.
Surprise stiffened her shoulders when Joel let out a harsh breath of relief, his head dropping into the crook of her neck, arms looping around her waist. She soon softened under his embrace, her fingers tangling within his sea-breeze tangled hair.Â
âI thought you left.â He mumbled into her skin. Y/Nâs stomach dropped at the hidden fear behind his words. She now understood completely where this strange new demeanor was coming from. She quickly shook her head, knowing Joel felt as she did when her cheekbone brushed against his ear in time with the movement.
âNo.â She whispered. âNo, I would never.â
His hold on her tightened with the words spoken. Y/N smoothed her hand over the back of his head, hoping it brought some form of comfort to the man. As his shoulders began to relax, she knew that it did. She continued her reassurance.
âIâm sorry.â Y/N tilted her head towards him, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. âI wasnât thinking clearly. I shouldâve come down to the docks.â
âWhy didnât you?â He asked, pulling back from his hiding spot, eyes searching for the answer.Â
Y/N drew in a deep breath, the heat in her cheeks burning fiercer than before. She averted her gaze towards the gravel pathway, taking a step back so that possibly she could find her words within the created distance. Nerves, fairly quickly, took over her form.
âWell⊠to start, I thinkâ pretty early on in our marriage you must have realized that I wasnât exactly ecstatic about the whole ordeal.â She rambled as she began to pace, wild with her movements the way she was erratic with her words.
Joel opened his mouth to confirm, but she was speaking so fast that he never had the chance. So he watched on, almost incredulously, eyes following her as she paced back and forth in front of him, avoiding his gaze.
âI mean⊠I donât think you were totally happy with it either, considering how we were at the beginning⊠âAnyways, none of that matters now.â Y/N waved her arms, trying to get rid of any more unnecessary words.
âThe reason I was so unhappyâ at firstâ was because I was so desperate to fall in love.â She continued, the last word ringing familiar in Joels ear. A smile perked up the corners of his mouth as realization dawned on him, patiently waiting for the girl to finish her rant.
âAnd I didnât think an arranged marriage could have any possibility of that.â Y/N glanced quickly over at Joel, finding him nodding along in exaggerated understanding, strong arms crossed over his chest.
âBut then a funny thing happened, when I was walking into town and I suddenly realizedâŠâ She stopped moving, facing the man head on as she said her peace. âI think I may be in love with youâ No⊠I know that Iâm in love with you.â
As he considered herâ standing in front of him, with begging eyes and shaking handsâ he bit back a brighter grin. With this onslaught of information he wasnât exactly sure how he should say what he wanted to say. If the girl would even give him the chance to do so.
âAnd thatâs why I didnât meet you at the docks.â Y/N finished, quite lamely, hands raised out from her sides as if offering him the floor. Though, her arms flopped back down to their original position quickly after.
âSoâŠâ Joel started slowly, killing the woman with every second his pause dragged out. âYou didnât come to the docks⊠because youâre in love with me?â
âIt would seem so.â She confirmed, her voice small with apprehension. âDo you have anything to say on the matter?â
âJust one thing.â He breathed, before taking a step forward, he looped an arm around her waist pulling her against him. A gasp fell from her lips at the eagerness in this action, her hands impulsively landing on his chest. Joel's other hand moved to rest on the side of her face, guiding her lips to slot against his in a deep-seated kiss.Â
It was as if the entirety of her being were in her lips, like there was nothing else in the world as he pressed soft kisses to the plush skin. Kisses that somehow conveyed the entire range of how he felt towards her. The passion showed itself as he nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth. The tenderness shown in the gentle caress of his tongue. The love being presented as he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, it shining in the deep brown of his eyes.
âI love you too.â He confirmed what she saw within his irises, her heart swelling that she wasnât on her own in feeling this way.
âI didnât realize thatâs what it was until I thought you were gone.â He told her, âI think I mightâveâŠâ
His words trailed off, replaced with a deep breath as he pulled her in closer, as if making sure she was really there in his arms.
âI think I mightâve felt this way for a really long time.â He ended. Y/N smiled warmly up at him, tilting her head to brush her nose against his own.
âMe too.â
And neither one of them really knew exactly when that could have been. Perhaps it was the very first time they laid eyes on each other. Or during one of their many shared meals as they sat across from one another in comfortable silence. Or the distance that kept them apart by raging seas. Maybe it shifted with the constant storms that would rain down over their house. Or maybe it was written in the stars, destined to happen. Whatever the case, it didnât really matter to them now as they melted back into each other, lips crashing in a great crescendo portraying exactly the burning passion this island was supposed to be known for.Â
Their next movements were like a white blinding light as they forged through the front door of their home, shoes left behind,â the excitement that shouldâve been present on their wedding night was now following them through the living room and up the creaky stairs. Y/Nâs grip on Joelâs hand was strong as she pulled him down the hallway towards the master bedroom, but she still wasnât strong enough to keep him moving when he stopped abruptly. She turned to face him.
âWhâ?â Her question was interrupted when he pressed her against the wall, his lips finding hers once more. A small squeak of surprise from the young woman was muffled by Joelâs kiss, swallowing it down. His hands were firm on her waist, fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt. Her skin was hot to the touch.Â
âJoel.â She moaned against his lips, the touch of his thumb rubbing slow circles into her skin sending bolts of electricity straight to her toes.
His name sounding like that coming from her was enough to have Joelâs entire being on fire. He could feel himself harden with every moan she gifted him, as well as his resolve weakening, patience wearing thin.Â
Shifting his grip, his hands were now clutching at the back of Y/Nâs bare thighs (since she had miraculously had the good sense to wear shorts today). On instinct, using the leverage of Joelâs grasp, she jumped into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist. The momentum of their bodies coming together had Joel stumbling backwards, back hitting the other wall. The artwork hanging on aging nails rattled in their frames, threatening to crash to the floor as they shook from the collision. Neither husband or wife paid this any mind as they clutched onto each other, lips still vehemently attached, moans and grunts being traded within their kiss.
Soon, Joelâs feet were moving once again, carrying Y/N over the threshold of his bedroom. Like a man was supposed to do with his bride, finally given the chance to do so. Though his grip almost slackened when she pulled her lips away from his, replacing them on the skin below his ear. He cursed under his breath as she began to suckle against a sweet spot he never even knew existed.Â
Against all odds, he made it to the bed, falling backwards against the plush surface, springs squeaking under their combined weight. Y/N was not at all deterred by this new position, her forearms bracing themselves on either side of Joel's head as she kissed her way down his neck, hoping she was even half as good as Joel was at this sort of thing.Â
She supposed she wasnât half bad as his breathing was soon labored under the touch of her lips, thick fingers twisting into the fabric of her shirt. She smiled against his skin, especially so when she finally lowered her hips down over his own, the sign of his enjoyment pressing harshly into her inner thigh. Y/N rolled her hips into him, hoping for that very same reaction she had gotten the first time she did this. With no surprise at all, she prevailed.
âShitâ.â He hissed, hands darting to grip at her hips. âWait.âÂ
Somehow he was strong enough to still her movements. Or maybe Y/N couldnât help but obey the words said by this man. In either case, time began to slow down, their frantic movements ceasing. Y/N pushed up on her hands, sitting back on her heels so that she could meet his gaze. Joelâs hands found their home on the skin of her thighs, thumbs instinctively rubbing those soothing circles once again.
He drew in a breath, staring up at her with soft brown eyes. âHave you ever done this before?â
A shy look flitted across the woman's pretty features, her bashful smile weakened as her bottom lip was tugged between her lips. She shook her head, eyes trained to the top button of Joelâs shirt.
He swallowed against a newly dry throat as he realized she was willing to give him everything. Pink swelling up into his cheeks when his cock convulsed at the thought. Surely she had to have felt that, the gasp slipping from her lips proving that she did. Â
âI⊠I donât wanna rush you into doing anything youâre not ready for.â Joel murmured, âWe can take it as slow as you need.â
Y/N offered him a sweet smile at his words, her fingers toying with that button she had her eye on. They were trembling slightly, not out of fear but instead a steady form of anticipation.
âWeâve been married for almost a year now.â She responded, her tone soft. âI think weâve taken it slow enough.âÂ
âAlright then.â Joel responded in that same tone, a small smile matching her own, his heart lurching at what was to come next.Â
And he could have easily slipped back into the pace they had set when they had crashed into the room. His desires were certainly begging him to do so. But this was their first time indulging in this act as a married coupleâ her first time at all. So despite the protests of his aching body, Joel would take his time, offer every part of himself to her and hope she would offer the same.Â
He smoothed his hand up her thigh, carving his way up to rest his fingers behind her ear, thumb against her cheek. Without much force at all, he guided her gently until their lips were touching once again, this time in a slower kiss. She relaxed against him, chest resting on his. A small whimper escaped the back of her throat at the tenderness of it all.
The small noise spurred Joel into rolling Y/N onto her back, flipping the preexisting roles, covering her with the shadow of his form. His hands were braced on the plush surface beside her head, holding his weight above her. His knee was positioned between her thighs. She was a whimpering mess, grinding up into him, desperate to relieve the ache between her legs. Joel couldnât help the smirk that appeared over his lips. The bold woman who was kissing down his neck just a mere few minutes ago was long gone. A dark part of him took pleasure at the sight of her like this, desperate for him. It didnât help how pretty she was splayed underneath him, eyes darkened with lust, bottom lip trembling, hips rutting towards the thigh that was too far away from where she wanted him.
He wouldnât give it to her. Not yet at least. He was going to take his time. He set his hand against her hip, forcing her to stop her movements, holding her in place.
Lowering himself towards her, he brushed his lips across Y/Nâs in a quick kiss. He placed another on the apple of her cheek. Another on her temple. And again at the corner of her mouth. He was moving so slow that she could feel the flutter of his eyelashes tickling her skin. She sighed at each kiss, relishing in his attentiveness.Â
She was cold when he removed himself from her, standing up at the side of the bed. Even more so when his hands lifted the hem of her shirt, pulling it up over her head. Her nipples were pebbled against the white lace of her bra, made more obvious as she leaned up on her elbows. His darkened eyes roamed over her body, no inch left undiscovered. His fingers continued to do their work of revealing more, when he popped open the button of her shorts. The garment soon discarded on the floor with her shirt.Â
All that she was left in was her undergarments, grateful she had put on a matching set that morning. Joel stood fully clothed in front of her, on unequal ground but somehow the thought excited her. She could feel herself flush behind the skin of her cheeks, turning her head so she could hide behind the back of her hand.
âDonât hide from me, darlinââ He whispered, catching her in the act, fingers clasping around her wrist. She complied letting the limb fall back to its original position. She dared herself to meet his strong gaze as he continued, another gasp swirling into the air when he spread her thighs, the wetness between her legs more obvious once the cold air contrasted with the heat of her arousal.Â
âLook at youâŠâ Joel groaned, toying with the hem of her panties where her thigh met her center, the fleeting touch of his fingers causing her hips to twitch up towards him. He watched her restlessness with slight amusement, though he granted her some form of relief as he dipped his pointer finger into her soaked panties. Though he only did so to pull the fabric away from her burning heat, and a second later he let it snap back down, the sound louder than expected as it smacked against her folds.Â
âDonât do that.â Y/N whined, squirming under his teasing.
âWhat? You donât like it?â He did it again, causing the girl to jolt up further on the bed. She whined once, but she didnât exactly have any words to argue with him. She sort of did like his teasing. But impatience was taking over her.
âIâ I think Iâm ready.â She breathed heavily through her nose as his fingers continued to play around with the fabric of her panties.Â
âReady?â He questioned, brows furrowed.
âReady for you toâ for yourâŠâ She stammered, embarrassment flooding her senses as she couldnât find how to put it.
âFor my cock?â He finished for her. She squeaked at the unexpected harshness of his words, but was pleased by the sharp ache that probed at her core.Â
âMhm.â She nodded, shutting her eyes, almost as if bracing herself.Â
They shot back open at the sound of Joelâs soft laughter filling the room, she was greeted with the sight of his bright smile, his head shaking.
âWhat?â Y/N asked, slightly perturbed at the fact he was laughing at her. He only shook his head, bending to loop an arm around her waist, shifting her body with ease so that she now lay properly on the bed, head sinking into the plush material of his pillows. She huffed in annoyance, lifting herself up back on her elbows so that he could feel the full force of her glare.Â
âYouâre not even close to ready for me, sweetheart.â He told her, a strong knee propped on the bed. His fingers were working on the buttons of his dark green shirt, revealing a smattering of hair that was once hidden by its confines. Y/N paused as she hungrily drank in the reveal of his skin, but was soon disappointed when he stopped at the third button down. Any complaints she had were lost on her tongue when he swung his other leg onto the bed, trapping the woman between his knees as he sat above her.Â
He looked like a god in this position. Skin shining under the sunlight that slid into the room in its golden hour, the shadows of his strong features accentuated. She wasnât sure if she should cower under his might, she was more grateful to be bestowed with this sight of him. Ready to sacrifice anything to him.
âI feel ready.â She murmured up to him, âWant you inside of me, Joel.â
An unanticipated shiver shot up the length of Joel's spine at her admission, his erection growing harsher within the limits of his underwear. He sucked in a deep breath, shaking his head as if he had to deliberately make the move to hold himself back.
âI want that too, baby.â He mumbled, shifting to smooth his hands down the expanse of her stomach, needing his hands on her in some shape or form. âBut âm too big for you.â
âToo big?â Y/N parroted her eyes widening. He nodded.
âHave tâ get you ready for me.â He relayed, âEspecially since youâve never had anythin' up there before.â
âYes I have.â She countered, her tone becoming more defiant. Joel stilled at her words, knowing that could only mean one thing.
âYour fingers?â He swallowed against the words. Y/Nâs shy demeanor returned, she looked away.
âYes.â She said, her voice small.
Joel held back a groan threatening at the back of his throat, the image of her playing with herself, cumming around her fingers, forcing its way to the forefront of his mind. He could feel as more precum leaked out of his tip, slicking against his skin. His heartbeat was ringing in his ears.
âItâs not gonna be the same.â He strained, shaking his head.
âWill it hurt?âÂ
âA little⊠at first.â He told her honestly, âThatâs why I need you to be ready for me. Itâll hurt you less and I⊠just wanna make you feel good.â
Y/N softened at the earnest look in Joelâs eyes as he spoke, her heartbeat hammering in her chest with how much care he was providing for her.Â
âOkay.â She relented, her hands moving up to grasp at the bottom of his shirt, tugging him towards her. He followed her movements with no resistance, leaning down to kiss her, deep and steady.Â
âMake me feel good then.â She whispered into his lips.
âAs you wish.â He replied, in the same hushed tone.
Joel sat back on his heels, admiring her in the golden light for just a second longer before he started. They held each otherâs stare, the love they confessed blooming in the air between them, warming their bones, making their hearts beat in time.Â
His touch was light as he slid her panties down her legs, losing the piece of fabric somewhere on the bed behind him. He placed a featherlight kiss across her collarbone as he unclasped her bra, her back arching into him so he had the room to remove it. He tossed it in the same aimless direction. And when he sat back, she was bare to him.Â
âBeautiful.â He mumbled, tracing his knuckles down her sternum to her belly button, she shivered under his touch, or maybe from the compliment.Â
Then he placed himself gently on the pillow beside her. He brought a large hand to her chin, tilting her head to the side so that sheâd meet his gaze. Kissing her lips gently, he slid that same hand down the length of her stomach until his fingers were pressing into her pubic mound. He pulled away from her lips, so he could see every little reaction that she had for him.
Her pretty lips fell open when he dipped his fingers lower, collecting the wetness that was pooling at her entrance. He hummed at how wet she was, the slick covering his two fingers when he brought them back up to rub circles into her clit. A moan was instantly pulled from her, her body jolting at the sensation, breasts bouncing as she did. Joel drank in every minute of it.Â
And once he knew she was completely ready, he finally slipped a finger inside of her.Â
Y/N sucked in a harsh breath, she wasnât expecting his finger to feel so large inside of her. But it was nothing to what she had felt before when she tried something like this on her own. She felt so full with just the use of his finger, stretching her out so resolutely, that she wondered how it would feel once it was the real thing. She was whimpering once again due to Joelâs actions, her hands shot up to grasp at Joelâs bicep, his shirt taut over the flexing muscle.Â
âYou want another finger?â He asked into her temple.
âY-yes.â She breathed, already wanting more from him. And he wasnât going to deny her of what she wanted. So he added the second finger, the obscene sound of it squelching into the air. He changed the position of his hand, as well, his thumb now prodding at her clit whenever he thrust his hand back into her.
Y/Nâs hips moved in time with each of Joelâs movements, even as he sped up, the sound of his palm smacking against her wetness growing louder and louder. Her moans were now tumbling over her tongue at a constant rate, her head thrown back against the pillow.
Joelâs eyes were still watchful over her, he gaped at how beautiful she looked, coming undone with only the use of his fingers. He couldnât stop from grinding himself into her hip, moving at the same pace as his fingers, too turned on by her to try and hold back.
His own moans were muffled when he started kissing at her neck, and then down the soft flesh of her breasts, until he flicked his tongue over her sensitive nipple.
That was the beginning of Y/Nâs breaking point. Him curling his fingers inside of her, probing at a small spongy spot hidden deep inside of her, was the end.Â
Her orgasm ripped through her like a freight train, her cum splashing itself onto Joelâs palm. Her legs couldnât stop shaking, even when he pulled his digits out of her. He chuckled softly as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his chest. On instinct she curled into him, fingers clutching at the lapels of his shirt, her body still trembling as she floated back down from the sky.Â
âHow was that?â He questioned, holding her tighter against him. She could feel her own slick on his fingers as they pressed into her lower back.Â
âGood.â She said into the crook of his neck, voice shaky, earning another laugh from the man.Â
âWe can stop now, if you want.â He told her, lips pressed into her hair.Â
Y/N pushed against his chest, freeing herself from her previous hiding spot. She looked at him with furrowed brows and found nothing but honesty and adoration flickering across his irises. God, he really would stop for her, if she asked him too. In fact, the look he was giving her told her that he would do anything for her. She let out a frustrated breath, surely he wasnât so stupid to think that she wouldnât do the same for him.Â
âI donât want to stop.â She said, genuine with her words. Maybe a bit too forceful as she sat up.
âO-okay.â Joel relinquished, eyes wide at her eagerness, following her in the action of sitting up, his back now straightened.
âItâs slightly unfair, you know.â Y/N then said, placing a hand to the center of his chest, pushing lightly so that he would rest against the headboard. There was no resistance, he did as she said.Â
âWhat is?â Joel inquired, his breathing quickening as Y/N sat on her knees beside his hip. His eyes were trained to the crease between her thigh and waist, relishing in her every curve. It was a cruel reminder of his hardened cock trapped in his pants, twitching at the sight. He didnât even notice as her hands started to unbutton his shirt. That was until she started kissing at each newly revealed piece of skin. He sucked in a harsh breath at the touch of her lips.
âYou always get to see me like that.â She said between kisses. And he couldâve argued that it had only ever been twice, but he didnât want to know what would happen if he interrupted her wrath. âAnd yet you always hide from me.â
âI donât hide from you.â Joel countered, his knuckles white from his grip on the sheets beneath him. âYouâre just not the opportunist like I am.âÂ
A surge of pride spread out under Joelâs skin as Y/Nâs sweet laughter bubbled into the air. The sound of it doing as much to him as her moans did. He loved hearing her laugh. Like it was proof that she was actually happy with him. Though he supposed the proof was right in front of him, as she continued to leave loving kisses across his chest.
Joelâs shirt was finally discarded, granting Y/N the sight she had been desperate to see for so long. A beauty to behold. He wasnât exactly all hard lines and jagged edges. But he was strong and large, and soft in the places he needed to be. His skin was tanned and taut over muscles that could only be carved by the waves of a raging sea. But there were scars left behind, probably a result of tragedies endured on his countless journeys. Y/N left a soft kiss over each one.
And then her hands were soon preoccupied by a new task, the metal parts of his belt clanking against each other as she removed the constriction.
Joel waited with bated breath. He had to force himself not to ask if she was really sure about this. Because if she wasnât, she definitely would not be slowly sliding open the zipper to his pants. Or then tugging them down his thick thighs, revealing the black fabric of his boxer briefs. And she definitely would not now be palming at the bulge between his legs. Which she was.
A groan fell from his lips once she had her hand squeezing at his erection. His hips jutted forward into her palm, his need for her touch too obvious for his own good. His eyes flickered up to find a look of pure wonder on the womanâs features, maybe she was surprised she could elicit such reactions from him.Â
âFeelâs sâ good, baby.â He reassured, the words falling from his lips between soft grunts of pleasure. Y/Nâs eyes snapped up to meet his. He stared back, lids hooded over darkened eyes overblown with lust. His hips were now rolling up into her hand, over and over, unable to stop.
âReally?â She squeaked.
âYeah.â He grunted out, any coherent sentences lost to him as lust overtook him. Especially when her fingers hooked around the hem of his underpants, pushing them down to follow the path of his pants.
He gasped when the cold air hit his burning erection.
She gasped at the sight of it.
His cock sprang up once it was finally free from its confines, the tip hitting his lower belly, leaving behind a splotch of precum against his skin. And Joel was right⊠he was big. It was thick, just like the rest of him, with protruding veins running up the side. The head of it was red and angry, shining with the proof of his arousal.Â
And surprisingly, despite the aggressive look of his erection, the woman wasnât scared like she thought sheâd be. Instead she was drawn to it. Drawn to him. Because she was drawn to every part of him. So there was no time wasted when her smaller hand wrapped around his length.
Joel cursed under his breath, head falling back against the headboard with a dull thud. Just the touch of her hand already had him weak, ready to unravel. He wasnât sure if heâd be able to last once he finally felt the tight confines of her cunt fluttering around him. So for now he enjoyed the soft touch of her hand, closing his eyes as her thumb spread his precum over the tip with gentle touches.Â
She was slow with her movements, which was alright by Joel. It granted him time to breathe, as well as the fact that this was the first time sheâs ever done anything like this. He didn't need to move any faster than this if she didn't want to. His arousal sat low in his belly, happily waiting in the anticipation.Â
Though, his blood spiked when he felt the wet touch of her tongue against the head of his cock.
âW-what are you doinâ?â He asked, head snapping up to find her crouched down at his waist, hands splayed out on his thighs. She looked up at him through her lashes, tongue still unyielding against him. It was a sight he had dreamt about and longed for, but he never expected her to do anything like this tonight.
âYou did this for me, right?â Y/N said between the tiny kitten licks she administered, ââm only returning the favor.â
âYou donât have to do that.â He replied, shaking his head slightly. He brought a hand to her jawline, ready to pull her away from his erection, âYou donât owe me anythinâ.â
âOkay⊠Well then itâs because I want to.â She countered, ignoring the presence of his hand and dipping her head downwards again. This time she wrapped her moistened lips over the entire tip.Â
âFuck.â He hissed into the air, his hand moving from her cheek to her hair. He tried to be gentle with his grip, knowing she was new to all of this, but it was increasingly difficult to do so. Especially when she hummed in pleasure around his cock, seemingly relishing in the slight pain of having her hair pulled. She swirled her tongue around him, pulling a stuttering whimper from his lips.
She looked up at him at the sound. His head was thrown back once again, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin, he was breathing harshly through his nose, his handsome features twisted with euphoria. And it was all because of her.Â
Y/N felt as more wetness pooled between her legs and dripped down her inner thighs, she squirmed slightly as her arousal increased once again. As it turned out, she seemed to like having Joel like this, writhing under her in immense pleasure, whimpering from the touch of her tongue. She wondered if this is how he felt when he did the same thing to her. If he was this hard in her mouth because he gained pleasure from her pleasure. The thought spurred her on, moving her mouth further down his length.
Another deep groan rumbled out from his chest, eliciting a sound of affirmation from the woman, the vibration of her vocal chords shooting electricity through his body. He glanced back down at her, watching as she took him in as deep as she could.
âGod, you look sâ pretty like that.â
And she did. Her mouth around his rigid cock, tears filling her eyes as he pushed deeper down her throat, her pupils blown out with need for him. He could cum to that sight. Noâ he was going to cum at the sight. He could feel the coil deep in his core about to snap as she continued. But he wasnât going to let it end here.Â
âW-wait. Please, darlinâ, you have to stop.â Joel said softly, as he gently pulled her off of him, Y/Nâs features held a look of confusion and disappointment.Â
âDid I do something wrong?â She asked as he pulled her into his lap, his burning shaft now pressing nicely against the curve of her backside. He could feel how wet she was as she pressed her center into his lower abdomen, soaking the coarse hair spattered across the skin there.Â
âNo.â He shook his head, âNo, you were absolutely perfect, sweetheart. I just⊠I want to be inside you before I finish.â
âOh.â Y/N smiled shyly, her head dipping down in slight embarrassment. âOkay.â
âDo you think youâre ready for me?â He asked tenderly, placing kisses onto her cheeks. She closed her eyes against his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and nodding her head.
Soon she was on her back, head surrounded by Joelâs fluffy pillows. The sun had slowly dipped further down towards the horizon, only leaving a little bit of light left in the room. It was soft and gentle, caressing the two of them in dimming shades of blue. Joel braced himself over her, bicep flexing when he lowered himself to leave a kiss against her lips.Â
âIâll start slow.â He whispered to her afterwards, leaning his forehead onto hers, a large hand smoothing over her outer thigh. The pressure of his fingertips were somehow soft within his guiding grasp, positioning her leg over his hip. A shock of pleasure erupted in Y/Nâs core as she felt the length of Joelâs cock nestle in between her folds at this new position. Joelâs shoulders trembled, breathing growing heavy, his reaction to the same thing.
Y/Nâs own breath hitched in her throat as Joelâs hands snaked between them. He wrapped his calloused fingers around his shaft, guiding the tip through Y/Nâs slit and brushing it lightly against her clit. Simultaneous gasps intermingled in the air between their lips as they relished in the sensation.Â
âJoel.â Y/N whimpered, the unsaid words begging for more. He only nodded in return, his attention locked on the space between their hips, slowly growing smaller as he finally pushed the head of his cock inside of her.
Y/N could immediately tell the difference between this and his fingers. Before was barely anything compared to this. Now she was finally full, finally complete. And it was only the beginning as Joel slowly pushed himself deeper.
She whined at the stretch of him, fingernails scratching over his back. Joel wasnât any better, hiding his face in the crook of her neck, releasing the most sinful of moans as he was slowly sucked in by her tight, wet warmth. The feel of her around him was more incredible than he imagined. So much so that he pushed in faster than intended, earning a sharp gasp from the woman beneath him. He stilled, immediately.
âAre you okay?â He asked, pulling away from her neck to gauge her true reaction. Her eyes were shut, bottom lip tucked between her teeth.
ââm alright.â She replied, her heavy breathing causing her sensitive nipples to brush against Joel's chest, another spark of arousal surged through her bones. Another harsh moan was released from the man above her.
âShitâ baby, donât do that.â He gritted his teeth.
Unknown to Y/N, when that bout of pleasure had traveled the length of her body, she had clenched around him at the sensation. The instance of which made Joel feel as though he might burst into flames. His cock jerked inside of her, the coil returning, slowly starting to unravel.Â
âThink you can take any more?â Joel questioned, once he could calm his beating heart as much as he could have.
âThereâs more?â She stammered, confused since she already felt so full.
âY-yeah thereâs more.â Joel told her, trying his hardest not to move an inch, the task becoming increasingly difficult. Y/N released a shuddering breath.
âYeah.â She nodded, âI can take it.â
âThatâs my girl.â Joel chuckled airily, the affirmation causing a nice pool of warmth to settle in Y/Nâs belly. But the feeling was soon replaced by the head of Joelâs cock as it moved deeper inside of her, the length of him making her believe he was truly proding into her stomach.Â
Slowly but surely the rest of him was sheathed inside of her, proven by the soft tickle of his pubic hair against her inner thighs. Joel let himself rest inside of her, allowing her to adjust to his size, his breathing deep and heavy as her walls squeezed around his cock.Â
She started squirming beneath him, desperate for him to do more.
âPlease Joel.â She whimpered, âMove.â
âYou want me to move, sweetheart?â He murmured, nipping at her earlobe with his teeth, her desperation causing something wicked within him to start teasing.Â
âY-yes please, Joel. I need you.â She breathed, squeezing around him again. âWant you to fuck me.â
Joelâs entire body lurched at the words that slipped from her tongue. His heart hammering against his ribcage as it was completely unexpected. It caught him off guard, but he regained his bearings quickly, shaking free from the surprise as he took enjoyment from her dirty language.
âYou do, huh?â He mumbled back, feeling her nod into his shoulder. âIs that what you want? For me tâ fuck you?â
âYes.â She whined, a bit impatiently, more soft chuckles tumbled out of his lips.
âOkay, sweetheart.â He answered, âAnythinâ for you.â
And then he started moving. Slowly, so torturously slowly, sliding out until it was just his head that was left inside of her. Then, just as slowly he would sink all the way back in. He did that over and over again, causing an onslaught of pleasure to rip through the girl as the grooves of his cock carved into her walls so deliciously. She was a mess beneath him, shuddering and gasping with each slow movement he made.
Y/N arched into him, hands grasping at his back as he dipped his head, placing a kiss to her shoulder, moaning softly into her skin. Pleasure radiated throughout her body at every point of contact his skin had with hers, burning the brightest where the two of them connected. Even more so as Joel started to gradually speed up, still making long deep thrusts, but a little faster each time.
The bed started creaking beneath them, mixing in with the sound of their sensual moans as well as their skin slapping together in time with Joelâs thrusts. A cacophony of pleasure swirling around the room and serenading this moment as they finally connected in the way they always wanted to.Â
The sting of Joelâs size was now long forgotten as Y/N savored in the pleasure of him. Her arms were wound tightly around his neck, holding his head into her shoulder. She could feel his lips pressing into her skin, leaving deliberate kisses after each thrust. Her legs soon followed the same pattern as her arms, looping around his waist, pulling his body in close. Now there was no part of them left untouching.Â
His own arm soon snaked around her waist, drawing her in even closer if that was possible, her clit now firmly pressed against his pelvic bone. Y/N threw her head back with a deep moan, Joelâs lips attaching to her neck in record time. The heat low in her stomach returned from before, signifying that everything soon would come crashing down in a crescendo.Â
Joelâs cock twitched inside of her as he felt her walls fluttering around him. His own impending orgasm weighing heavy in his chest. He pulled his lips away from her skin.
âLook at me.â He said softly, despite the fact that his thrusts became sloppier by the second, his pace staggering as he involuntarily thrusted harder inside of her.
Y/Nâ despite struggling under the onslaught of her own oncoming orgasm, opened her eyes for him, meeting his soft brown gaze as they chased their highs. It was strange to see that gaze in this context, especially since the first time she saw it she would have never guessed this is where it would bring her. But now that she was here she couldnât ask for anything she wanted more.
Except for one thing.
âKiss me.â She said in return, and since Joel couldnât deny her of anything, he did just that, bringing their lips together in a tender kiss. The touch of it sending Y/N over the edge.
Joel felt as she came around his cock, squeezing onto him like a velvet vice, her cum gushing out around the base of him, soaking his skin. He moaned deep and heavy at the sensation, his own orgasm on the precipice. He placed his thumb on Y/Nâs clitâ hoping that will be enough to help her down from her highâ as he pulled himself out of her.
He grunted with each spurt of cum splattering itself onto Y/Nâs stomach, his free hand tight around his shaft, the length of it jerking in his hand. His thighs tensed as his orgasm shot out from his hips, shoulders trembling from the pleasure of it all, his heart racing.
Then, as the euphoria began to fade, his legs were weak as he sat back on his knees, chest heaving as he looked down at the mess he made on his beautiful wife.Â
His cum was shining white against her skin, the gleam of it reflecting in the moonlight as her stomach moved up and down with each passing of her shallow breaths. Her limbs were limp against the mattress, eyes hooded as exhaustion took over her form. He smiled softly at the sight of her, sliding a hand underneath her to bring her up to his level. He pulled her into his lap, holding her flush against his chestâ not caring that his cum was now smeared across his own stomach.
âYou did so well, sweetheart.â He whispered to her, stroking his knuckles across her cheekbone, she leaned into his touch, humming in content. Joel leaned forward, placing a kiss on her forehead.
They sat like that for a minute, savoring the silence between them and the embrace of their lover. But it didn't last too long as Joel spoke once more.
âCome on.â He abruptly said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, taking Y/N with him as he did. She whined when she realized she was being pulled away from the comfort of a warm bed.
âWhat? Why? I wanna sleep.â She argued when her feet hit the wooden floor beside his own, moving to dive back under the covers. He caught hold of her before she could.
âWe gotta wash up.â Joel countered, pulling her towards the door that sat in the corner of the room, the mystery (that was not so mysterious) soon to be revealed.
âAnd then we can go to bed?â She questioned, as her shaking legs became more willing to follow him
âNot quite.â Joel grinned, guiding her into the shower. When she offered him a look of confusion at his words, he answered the question written on her face.
âWe still have to make dinner.â
And soon, after all the proof of their passion was washed clean from their skin, underneath swirling puffs of cedar-scented steam and occasionally interrupted by stolen kisses, the two of them made their way down to their kitchen. And an hour later, as they sat across the table from one another, under the golden glow of their kitchen light. They divulged in their carefully prepared meal, sharing shy smiles and fleeting glances between each bite. The sight of them alone contradicting any statement that the island they resided on didnât live up to its name.Â
~~~
A/N: honestly this fic was born because of the smut scene in the kitchen, i can't lie đ© and then i rewatched the music video for adore you by harry styles so i wanted this oneshot to be something romantic and whimsical in it's nature, so i hope that came across. Is it corny? yes! but I had so much fun writing this so i hope you had fun too!!! thank you so much for taking the time to read my work !! and now i'll be leaving, goodbye forever!! <33
2K notes
·
View notes
â ⧠isohel
i·so·hel (noun) a line on a map connecting points having the same duration of sunshine
pairing. hong joshua x reader
description. fairytales can be rather misleading, can't they? when you and your mother are ripped away from your life at the castle, you spend over a decade resenting the royalty. so naturally, when you find prince joshua at your doorstep, youâre more than eager to shut the door on him. but as your life takes twists and turns, you happen to find yourself in the arms of a man you never thought you'd have to see again.
genre. slowburn, modern royalty au, angst, fluff
tags. prince!joshua, developing relationships, slut shaming, allusions / references to greek mythology, dialogue heavy, implied se
fic playlist
w/c. 26.2k
a/n. lwk don't like the beginning but i swear it gets betterđ thank u @cheolhub for beta reading & @jeonghantis & @gyuswhore for reading it over and helping out w this bc i think i was going insane over this story by myself >_<; ... i highly suggest listening to the song isohel by eden! it was a major inspiration for this whole story and i think it encapsulates the vibes really well c: hope u enjoy!
The sound of glass shattering isnât foreign to your ears.
Itâs common in the sweltering heat of the summer when the air is hot and sticky. Maids running around to tend to the evenings balls and parties only for the sweat to breach their fingers and suddenly their stack of fine china goes tumbling to the ground.
A bed of hyacinths sits in front of you as you bring up the hose and spray them down, watching through the tinted glass as two male helpers rush to the woman on the ground, quickly helping her clean up the shards of glass.
Turning your attention back to the plants in front of you, you turn the hose off and roll it back into the corner as you skip to the end of the greenhouse where thereâs your motherâs desk space. Itâs a measly little space but she hardly sits there anyways, always tending to the gardens in the courtyards, leaving the floral and herbal greenhouses under your care while sheâs away.
After all, your mother is a gardener and botanist in the Hong palace, and having been a trusted employee for the past half decade since your father passed, she exudes the little privileges of getting to bring her daughter to work.
At least thatâs what you think, because youâre only nine years old and naive.
She teaches you wellâyouâve only been accompanying her on the weekends when you donât have school, but youâve already picked up on how to tell the differences between an infected plant and an unaffected one, the characteristics of a good caterpillar and the characteristics of a bad one, the exact amount you should water each species, and exactly when you should let the vapor run down.
Itâs easy work, and you love it.
You love sitting at your motherâs desk and imagining what itâd be like to be herâsuccessful and working in the castle, doing what you love instead of working some stupid nine to five. You love looking out the glass of the greenhouses every few moments when you pause reading your book. You love the rare moments when you get to lay your eyes on one of the members of the royal family walking by.
Youâve started to pick up on their characters in the small frame of time you get to see them when they pass by. The Queen has kind eyes, the King is a bit intimidating, and Prince Joshua ⊠Prince Joshua has soft features you canât quite read.
âHeâs only a year older than you!â one of your friends from school said when you told her that you stayed at the castle during the weekends to help your mother. âYou should marry him and become princess!â
You had to push her away and watch her disappointed eyes when you told her that you hardly get to see him for more than ten seconds, even on the rare occasions that he crosses your vision.
The sound of glass shattering isnât foreign to your ears, but hearing it more than twice in one hour does have some alarms ringing in your head. When you glance back up at the window, time stops.
Your mother is on the ground. Limbs sprawled out with eyes wide in horror, she scrambles against the rough stone path as a man looms over her. He dons a deep purple robeâthe kind that belongs to the advisors of the Courtâand your young mind races through the possibilities of what warrants the disgusted look on his face.
âSneaking around with royal blood. Who do you think you are?â
A man watches, dark and brooding from the corner, and then you recognize him. Advisor Lee. He stops by the greenhouses sometimesâa high advisor of the Counsel and distance relative of the Kingâs. Youâre nine years old and naive, but you are not dense.
Something had happened between your mother and Advisor Lee. Something tells you itâs more than you can understand, but in this moment, you feel you understand perfectly.
âYou whore,â the man in the dark robes spits out, punctuating his disgust with a stomp of his feet right by your motherâs leg.
Youâre only nine years old, but that is old enough to know that that is not a nice word. Nine years old, and you know that that means a very bad thing. Nine years old and when you look at your motherâs grief stricken face, you are certain that everything is about to change.
Your house was always on the edge of the town. Before the affair between Advisor Lee and your mother, it was because she liked having the space to open a garden in your backyard. The city is crowded and full of bustling roads and buildingsâitâs no fit for the small cottage that she wanted.
Now, after the affair, your house is on the edge of the town for a different reason.
The first day after your mother is fired from her position at the castle, you go to school with your head hanging low. Itâs in the city, and for the first time in your five years of schooling, your mother tells you to go alone.
âI canâtâI shouldnât drive you anymore,â she tells you as you pack your backpack. She walks you to the bus station and hands you a paper telling you which stop to get off at and how to walk to school from there.
Youâre not sure what youâre expecting when you two walk up to the little stop by the street, but when you approach the small crowd of people waiting for the next bus to come in, their chatter hushes. Sparing glances at you and your mother, they whisperâsome hushed, some blatant, some sad, some angry.
Thatâs where she stops and puts a heavy hand on your shoulder. âYou can take it from here, yeah?â she asks, but you know itâs not really a question. Nodding, you slowly walk towards the crowd of people as the next bus parks in front of the stop.
You donât turn around and look at your mother because you know thatâd be a mistake. Instead, you let your neck droop, following the quiet crowd as they pile into the bus, clutching the strings of your backpack.
There arenât any places to sit, so you reach for a pole but suddenly the bus starts and you lurch forward, falling to the ground. Thereâs black and brown dust on the palms of your hand as you push yourself up, no one saying a word or bothering to help as you keep your head down and grip onto a pole.
The knees of your stockings are dirtied, and itâs the only thing you look at the whole ride, itâs the only thing you look at when you silently take the walk to school, and itâs the only thing you look at when you make your way onto campus.
Itâs the whispers again, and as you quietly sink into your normal seat, you hear them louder.
Did you hear about her mother? She isnât allowed in the castle grounds anymore. What did her mother do? I canât believe she showed up, Iâd be crying at home. I wonder what sheâs thinkingâ
Nothing. You think nothing when your teacher announces that class will be starting. All you focus on is the board and your notebook. You spend your recess and lunch at the schoolâs library, and as soon as the final bell rings, you scurry off campus and towards the bus station.
It isnât like the morningâpeople donât hush and stare, but nine years old is smart enough to know that itâs because they donât know youâre your motherâs daughter. There arenât any empty seats just like the morning but this time, a nice gentleman offers you his spot.
You can tell he isnât so sure of his decision though, when you finally get off at your stop and you run off to your mother whoâs waiting for you by the bench. From the corner of your vision, you watch the man through the bus window, jaw tight and gaze cold as he watches you slip your hand into your motherâs.
Your mother doesnât talk on the short walk home. She doesnât ask you about school and she doesnât ask you about what the other kids said. You figure that she doesnât need to hear it anyways, and so you purse your lips together.
You have a lot to get used to.
Your life doesnât change much, and you get used to it.
School days are spent with your head buried in a new book with every break you have. Your time at home is nothing but studying and your mother teaching you how to tend to the garden in your yard.
Soon you are graduating and moving on with your life as you make the transition to college, although you canât say much changes. You study, you read, and occasionally you commission a project. Itâs usually just renovating a citizenâs yard, sometimes itâs designing a public garden, but itâs never anything too serious.
Right now, youâre perched on a wooden stool, elbows leaning on the counter as you swipe your thumb over your tongue to flip the next page of your book. The paper is worn through, soft under your touch as a show for all itâs been throughâbought second hand from your boss.
Your boss is a kind old man who happened to be a friend of your late grandfatherâs, and when his little bookstore was teetering on the edge of being forgotten, you couldnât refuse the offer to step in to work.
Youâre around halfway through the book when you hear the familiar ringing of the bell above the door, head snapping up only to see your boss at the front door with a few envelopes in one hand, a plastic bag in the other.
âHolding up the fort, I see,â he greets with a low chuckle as you stand up and walk over, taking the bag from his hand to help out.
âAs always, Mr. Min,â you reply, setting the bag of books down on the counter. âAre theseââ
âTheyâre your mothers. I was walking by your house this morning and she asked me to take these and add them to our stock, since she said she doesnât need them anymore.â
âHuh,â you say softly, taking out the various books about plants. âNot sure how big the market for gardening books is anymore, but Iâm sure I can add it to our catalog after hours today,â you mutter, setting them on the table behind the register as he places the letters in his hand.
âYour mother also told me to give you this,â he says, his tone an octave lower as he plucks out one the envelopes and hands it to you. You knit your eyebrows together, wiping your dusty hands down on your pants before taking a look at it. âItâs fromââ
âThe castle,â you whisper, holding the envelope closer to your face to make sure youâre seeing it correctly. âOh my godâitâs from the castle.â
âYeah. Must be important if your mom felt the need to send it through me instead of just waiting for you to come home and take a look at it.â
âA-are you sure this is meant for me?â you manage to ask, flipping the envelope over a few times to make sure you read your name correctly.
âYup,â Mr. Min replies, pointing down at where the intended recipient is listed. Sure enough, itâs your name listed in dark and bold ink in one corner, and then thereâs that stupid royal emblem of the sun in the other corner.
Your heart sinks to your stomach at the possibilities of what could be inside, raking your mind for an answer. Was something wrong? Was it about your mother? Or was this just some big mistake?
Dear Madam,
The Hong Royal Counsel wishes to find you well, as we present a request.
Your reputation with your motherâs work as well as the operation of your own gardens throughout the city, along with your academic achievements at our very own Hong University have reached our ears, and we believe you possess the skills required for a special project we have in mind.
You will have the opportunity to lead this project as you please and earn a notable financial sum in payment for your efforts.
Please indicate your acceptance by replying to this letter at your earliest convenience. We eagerly await your response and sincerely hope that you will be able to grace our kingdom with your talent and presence.
Thank you,
Hong Royal Counsel
You donât have to read the letter more than once before you scoff, tossing the crisp paper and letting it drift down onto the counter before muttering under your breath, âWho do they think they are?â Crumpling the envelope and letter up, you throw it down into the trash can by your chair.
Knocks on your door arenât normal. The delivery and mailmen know better than to do that, leaving your packages and mail by the doorstep and doing no more than that.
Knocks on your door usually mean Mr. Min is here for somethingâpicking up some of the veggies your mother grew because the store prices are too high, dropping off a book, or indulging in some pleasantries and casual small talk.
Itâs eight in the morning when you hear the soft rapping against your front door. Your mom is in the kitchen and your room, right next to the foyer, has walls thin enough to let the sounds through. Youâre on your bed though, and itâs comfortable, warm, and itâs too early to be out and about anyways. Youâve just spent the past nine months laboring away at college, so youâre granting yourself these few moments of peace in the morning.
Pressing your head into the pillow, you try to drown out the noise of your mother conversing with Mr. Min this early in the morning. After you hear the door open, thereâs a silence and for a moment, you think youâve succeeded in plugging your ears well enough.
Youâre about to smile to yourself and drift back into a heavy sleep before you hear a loud gasp.
It takes a lot to surprise your motherâyouâve come to learn that in recent years. It takes a lot to stun her, to have her gasp as you just heard. Scurrying out of bed, you press your ear against the wall in hopes to catch a glimpse of whatâs going on.
All you hear is silence.
It hardly takes a second for you to shove off your blankets and throw yourself into the hallway, rushing towards the foyer where you see your mother standing in front of the open door. She stays unmoving and you wince for a few moments, eyes still adjusting to the morning light as you make your way closer to the door to see what exactly has her so shocked.
And then you catch it: a glint of that wretched, golden sun emblem stitched onto a purple velvet coat.
âWhat the fââ
Your motherâs hand flies up and grabs your wrist tightly. Itâs the first time you see her move, and as she turns around to face you with dark, warning eyes, you press your lips shut as you glance over her shoulder. In front of your doorstep is a man you never thought youâd get to see in person again, not after that day.
Prince Joshua is just as handsome as the tabloids and social media make him out to be, and his presence in your life also seems to be equally infuriating.
âWhat is he doing here?â you hiss, pulling your mother closer to you so sheâs close enough to hear you.
Her eyes are somber, and you silently wonder how she can be so calm, so docile, soâso tame. âTheyâre here for you,â she whispers, turning her whole body so her back faces the prince.
âWhat are you talking about? Why wouldââ
âThe letter sent to you from the kingdom. I thought you told me it was a mistake.â
âIt was,â you mutter, eyes glancing at Prince Joshua behind her. His gaze is averted, presumably out of respect for the conversation youâre having with your mother right now, but you canât find it in yourself to appreciate him for it.
âThen why is he asking for your name?â
You gulp anxiously, eyes flickering between your motherâs eyes and the floor. âI donât know.â
âTalk to him. It must be important,â she orders, walking forward and toward the kitchen and you grab her shoulder quickly.
âAre you kidding me? Whyâwhy would I talk to him? Why would I talk to any of them?â you argue louder than you intended, and your mother swats your hand away sharply.
âTheyâre royalty,â she says, voice strained with caution.
âAnd? Itâs not medieval times where they actually rule over us soââ
Your mother sighs heavily and then it hits you that no matter how much logic you try to expend, itâd be futile. âTalk to him. It isnât quite like you have a choice.â
âYou of all people shouldnât put up with this,â you state and the second the words leave your lips, you regret it. Her face hardens and thereâs a cold feeling that sinks in your stomach as she frees herself of your grasp and marches away.
Youâre left watching her back fade into the rest of your house as your eyes are wide and youâre becoming increasingly aware of the presence of another person behind you. A person who is very important and very famous and very much a representation of all the things you loathe.
Turning on your heel, you donât bother to push your lips up into a morning grin facing Prince Joshua with tired eyes and frown etched into your mouth. Taking a deep breath, you glance back at your mother who is in a far off room, deciding that whatever he needs to say to you, she doesnât need to hear.
Slipping on some slippers, you quickly walk out of the house and close the door behind you, putting you right in front of Prince Joshua who waits for you with bright eyes.
âHi,â he greets, voice airy and light as he takes a few steps back so he can bow, of which you begrudgingly return. âSorry to bother you so early in the morning, I was just taking care of some work in the area and was told to stop by and talk to you about something.â
He sounds sincere, and his lips curve into a pleasant expression when he speaks, and you wonder if heâs plain stupid playing dumb to save you the humiliation of the situationâa royal prince speaking to the daughter of âa slut who seduced the royal advisor.â
So unable to decipher anything about his true intentions, you ask bluntly, âIs it about the letter I got from the kingdom two weeks ago?â
Prince Joshua chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and you catch the fancy white fabric of his buttoned up shirt underneath the coat. âI mean, yes it is andââ
You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. âWhy do you guys even bother sending letters? Itâs the 21st century, you know? Emails exist.â
His face reddens, looking away before pursing his lips together. âSome things are just kept out of tradition,â Prince Joshua reasons quickly. âBut I totally understand that, weâll keep emailing in mind. But for the meantime, thatâs, uh, kind of what Iâm here for. We didnât hear back a response, and I would like to take your answer back to the castle for you.
âIsnât no response enough of a response?â
âWellââ
âMy answer is no, if that wasnât obvious,â you say, turning back to the door. âIs that all?â
âWait!â he exclaims, grabbing your arm with his white leather gloves. Itâs a bit surprising, reallyâhe seems awfully timid for a prince and youâre a bit unnerved by how he hasnât reprimanded you yet for being disrespectful. âIs there a reason why you donât want to take on the job? If there are some specifics, maybe we can adjust the arrangement so itâs more to your liking.â
Your eyes widen, bewildered. âWhat? No IâI donât care for anything like that, I wonât take the job.â
âArenât you just a ray of sunshine,â he mutters under his breath before his eyebrows knit together as he looks at the ground, seemingly trying to figure something out. âIs it the money? We can negotiate your salary,â he offers and you shake your head.
âNo, itâs not the moneyâI donât care about the money,â you say harshly. âItâs not any of that, I just donât want to.â
âCan you tell me why? Itâs just, Iâll have to report this back to the Counsel and if Iâm not able to recruit you, theyâd at least want some reasoning for why.â
Inhaling sharply, it takes all your self control to not let your eye twitch and slam the door in his face. âAre you really asking me why I donât want to?â Pursing your lips together, you glare at him harshly. âYou were there that day, werenât you?â you ask more quietly, and for a moment you see Prince Joshua falter. âNot that Iâd expect you to care but surely you can at least understand why I donât want to.â
âI-Iâm sorry, but I really canât change the past.â
Scoffing, you turn on your heel and open the door. âIâm not asking you to.â
âWaitâjust wait a secâ!â he calls out, stopping the door with his palm before you close it. âYouâre in your second year at Hong University, right?â He doesnât wait for a response before he continues. âWeâll pay for the rest of your tuition.â
The air in your lungs seems stuck for a passing moment, and you shake your head to yourself, stepping into your house and turning around one last time with cold eyes and a deep frown. âNo.â
The prince looks around hastily before blurting out, âWeâll do all of it!â
âAll of what?â
âWeâll pay for all of your tuitionâreimburse you for what youâve already paid.â You donât care. You shouldnât care. âAll of it, plus your hourly wage,â he adds, and you donât even have a chance to think before you feel your motherâs hand on your back.
âSheâll do it.â
Your mother chuckles as she helps you tie the lavender colored robe around your waist. Youâre not sure what she finds so funny about this, but you bite your tongue when you start to catch on how she ties the ribbons with such ease.
Over ten years of being away from the castle canât erase the time she spent there, tying her own robe every morning before she was stripped of her title, and in turn, also the life she worked so hard to build up.
As you look down at the smooth fabric sent to you a week earlier from the castle, youâre forced to begrudgingly admire the intricate embroidery. The collar and ribbons are decorated with a darker purple stitching that runs in all sorts of twists and turns and swivels around the curves of your body.
âTheyâve made them look nicer since Iâve last seen them,â she thinks out loud, matting her hands down your shoulders to smooth the fabric down one last time before taking a look.
âI donât understand why youâre still soââ You inhale sharply and press your lips together, warning yourself to not say anything more when she shoots you a cautionary look. âSorry,â you mutter, turning away so you can glance at yourself in the mirror. You do look pretty nice, if you had to admit.
âJust think about the money,â your mother encourages. âTheyâre covering the cost of all your schoolingâall those days spent at Mr. Minâs can now go towards things you enjoy, rather than paying for your university.â
âI guess,â you grumble, adjusting your hair one last time before grabbing your phone and keys, walking towards the foyer.
âYou know the way right?â your mother calls out as you slip on your shoes and walk out onto the front porch.
âI wish I didnât,â is all you say, low and under your breath as you make your way to the car.
The castle lies in the heart of the city, so itâs quite the drive. Youâre careful as you try to keep your robes clean, bunching it up to your thighs as you drive, and once youâve made your way to the castle, youâre sure to make sure the hem of the bottom doesnât hit the ground.
Reporting to the entrance that was given in your email (why they send emails for instructions but not the actual invitation to your job still remains a mystery to you), you carefully tuck your phone into a crevice of your robes.
The entrance starts at a gate on the east end of the castle, and you make your way to the little hut that sits at one end where a woman in a lavender polo and dress pants sits at a desk. Knocking on the window, you smile nervously as she looks up from her papers.
âCan I help you?â
âYes!â you say, holding up your phone and pointing to your first day instructions. âItâs my first day here, and Iâm not sure how to get inside and all.â
âDid they give you a code?â
âUh, yeah let me check again,â you murmur, looking back at your phone to find the 5 digit code you were sent. âItâs, uhâ32423.â The lady hums and nods, checking something on her computer before looking up at you with a smile.
âThatâs correct. From now on you can just come through the smaller gate on the sideâit should be to the left of this big gate, and just put in whatever code you have. It changes every few days but youâll be notified with the new password every time it does.â
âThank you,â you say, glancing over your shoulder to look at the gate sheâs talking about.
âFor now, just follow me. Since itâs your first day, Iâll show you the way to the ⊠where was it you need to get to?â
âRight here it says the Advisory Quart?â
The girlâs eyes widen as she sits up from her seat and walks out of the hut, leading you toward the smaller gate. âSeriously?â she asks as she punches in the code, the gate automatically opening once sheâs done.
The gate leads to a narrow pathway that runs slightly uphill in the midst of a lush field of trimmed green grass and sparse flowers that was previously hidden from you by the large stone halls. You remember the scene vaguely, but itâs a lot lovelier in person than you remember. Glancing up the pathway, you catch sight of the large castle in front of you, and the vision has an uneasy feeling floating in your stomach.
âUh yeah, is that surprising?â you respond, hoping the small talk will distract you, even if itâs only a little.
âI mean the Advisory Quart is no joke. Those people work like crazy dogsââ she says with a laugh before looking at you with wide eyes. âWait, Iâm sorryâplease donât tell anyone I said that, theyâllââ
âDonât worry. Your secretâs safe with me. But please do continueâwhat were you saying? I havenât been in that castle in a longâIâve never been to the castle before, so Iâm not up to speed with all the different Quarts and sectors and stuff.â
âOh well, itâs just that the Advisory Quart does a lot of work ⊠I swear theyâre always running around, talking about some new project theyâre working on,â she says as you follow her up some steps, nearing an entrance to a building connected to the castle.
âWhat kind of projects?â you ask curiously.
âOh gosh, everything, I tell you, they do pretty much everything. From helping the King with his own decisions to doing absolutely random, huge projects, there always seems to be someone whoâs on top of everything. I remember I had a friend whose husband worked up thereâthey were working on designing a whole new ballroom and no one had any idea why! So what are you going to be doing there?â
Chuckling nervously, you arenât sure if you should tell this girl that you donât really know. âOne of those random projects, I assure you,â you tell her because youâre pretty sure itâs true. After all, youâre almost positive they wonât have you be doing anything thatâs worthwhile.
âAh, well youâll probably be swamped either way,â the girl says with a sigh as you reach a large wooden door. âAnyways, weâll part ways here. Just go through these doors and thereâll be a big hallway. Ignore all the different corridors and doors on the side, and just go straight and you can see thereâs an open room at the end of this hallway. Thatâs where your check-in will be, and the people there will direct you to wherever you need to go.â
You blink a few times, taking in all the information before nodding meekly, bowing and thanking the girl for her time as she walks away. Taking a deep breath, you open the door with a loud creaking noise, stepping into the grand hallway.
The walls are beige with ornate accents lining the bottom and top, intricate designs carved into the ceilings that hang chandeliers in intervals. Your sandals clack against smooth travertine marble as your eyes roam the entrances to different corridors and rooms, doors dark and wooden, similar to the one you just entered through.
There arenât many people in the long hallways, passing by only a few others who seem to have their attention busied by papers or their phone. Some of them are wearing similar fashioned robes to yours, while most of the others are wearing the same lavender colored polo and white slacks as the girl who brought you here.
Smoothing the fabric below your waist one more time as you near the large open room you were directed to, you glance around and find a desk with a kind looking receptionist talking to a man wearing your kind of robes.
Quietly approaching the desk, you stand a few feet behind him, patiently waiting for them to finish so you can step up. Neither of them seem to notice, being caught up in a conversation that seems a bit of a mix of professional and leisurely.
Twiddling with your fingers behind your back, you rock side to side on your feet as you wait for the two to finish up talking about how theyâre excited for the next ball thatâs coming up, not bothering to think about who these people might be and why theyâre even invited to it.
âOh, Iâm sorry,â the man at the counter calls out, âI can help you.â He smiles and waves you over before nudging the other man on his shoulder. âSeokmin, goâyouâre distracting me.â
The man he pushed is a handsome looking guy, light brown hair falling just above his eyes as he turns around and gives a small smile, stepping to the side but not fully backing away. âAh, sorry about that. Go ahead, we were just catching up.â
âNo worries,â you say quickly, walking up to the receptionist. âIâm here to find the Advisory Quart I think? I was told to report to this entrance, and the lady at the front told me to come hereâitâs my first time here soââ
âYour first time in the castle?â the other man asks you with wide eyes.
âUh, wellââ
âDonât mind himâSeokmin, you know better than to mess with the newbies,â the receptionist murmurs, and you frown at the word. He catches on and looks up at you, holding a hand out. âNo offense.â
âN-none taken. So could you help meâIâm really not sure where to go.â
âYeah of course. Does your email say who youâll be reporting to?â
âIt says here âMr. Park.ââ
âOh okay, his room numberâs going to be 77, right down that corridor right there,â the receptionist tells you kindly, pointing at one of the side hallways you saw while walking here. âSince itâs your first day, Iâll let him know that youâll be coming down so he can be ready. Iâm sorry, whatâs your name?â
âThank you so much,â you say bowing, quickly telling him your name. So caught up in the kindness of these peers, you almost forgot why you were so reluctant to come here in the first place, but no worries, this receptionist does a good job of reminding you.
His lips press into a thin line as raises a brow, asking you to repeat your last name again. When your answer slips from your lips, itâs much quieter. A heavy cloud sinks over you as you realize that even after years away, your family name is still tainted.
âOkay,â the receptionist finally says briskly, and youâre taken aback by how cold his voice has become. âIâll let him know youâre coming down. You can proceed now.â
He doesnât give you a âgood luck,â or a âhave a nice day,â or a âdo you have any questions,â despite his cheery attitude from before. Now heâs looking at you with an expressionless face and eyes that wonât meet yours as you shamefully turn away.
So caught up in the disappointment, you hardly notice how the other manâSeokminâis still watching the scene unfold. As you walk away from the open room, thereâs a hand on your wrist. Whipping around, youâre faced with a Seokmin whose face seems unreadable, just like the receptionists. Except something is ⊠different. He seems sincere, and you feel safe.
âYou might get lost trying to get there,â Seokmin says rather casually, letting go of your hand and walking next to you. âCome on, Iâll show you the wayâIâm working under Mr. Park too actually, Iâm his internâso I know the way pretty well and can fill you in on what heâs like.â
You wonder why Seokmin isnât acting like the receptionist. Your family name is still somewhat taboo in the city outside the castle, so you were pretty confident when walking into the actual place of the âcrime sceneâ that youâd be even more ⊠generally disliked.
Seokmin seems to be different though, and you canât quite figure out why.
Seokmin lets you know Mr. Park is mean when he wants, which seems to be always. Direct with his words but also, you have to read in between the lines sometimes if you donât want to get scolded. Youâre not sure what to do with that information, because Seokmin doesnât tell you much else.
You walk down the corridor with him before stopping in front of a wooden door to your right, labeled with that familiar sun emblem and a golden plated plaque reading â77.â âCâmon, he should be in here right now,â Seokmin says, pressing against the frame and pushing the door open.
Inside is a room unlike the others youâve seen before. The ceiling is much lower and baskets of plants hang from it, vines lining the limestone walls, and pots and beds of plants sit by the smaller desks that litter the area. Thereâs a larger desk at the end opposite to the door, and you see a man with grey hair and firm eyes sitting at the ornate chair, reading through a stack of papers.
âAh, Seokmin,â he says, standing up when he notices the two of you by the door, and itâs not you realize that this man is Mr. Park. Both you and Seokmin bow hastily. âI was waiting for the two of you to arrive.â His gaze then turns to you, and itâs sharp. âWhat took you so long?â His tone is harsh and you almost wince. âIt isnât your first time in the castle,â Mr. Park says bluntly, and for once you are taken aback because no one has addressed the cloud hanging over your head so directly yet.
âIâm sorry sir, I havenât been here inââ
âNo excuses. Donât be late again.â
âY-yes sir,â you reply meekly, faltering in your step a little.
Mr. Park sighs heavily and looks at Seokmin, waving him off. âGo to the Ballroom and ask around to see if they need anything for tonight. Donât be slow like last time.â
âYes sir! Right on it,â Seokmin says with a nod, quickly turning on his heel and scurrying out of the room.
âAnd for you âŠâ Mr. Park mutters as he takes in your figure with an unnerving look on his face. âI need you to lead a project.â
Your eyes bulge out of your head. âLead a project? I donât even know whatââ
âWord has it that the Prince himself had to bribe you with a whole four years of Hong tuition to get you here. Surely you didnât think youâd be given light work.â people knew about that?
âWell, I didnât know much about anything and I donât even know what work Iâm supposedââ
âYouâll figure it out, soon enough,â Mr. Park tells you briskly, walking over to his desk where a large chalkboard sits to its left. Using a stick, he points at a word written in a corner. Garden. âThe Queen has a courtyard that she no longer likes the look of. Itâs been stripped down, and youâre in charge of turning it into a garden of her liking.â
You knit your eyebrows together. âA-a whole courtyard?â
Mr. Park raises a brow. âAre you saying that itâs too much for you?â
âN-no!â you exclaim quickly. âIâm just surprised, thatâs all. I donât get why I would be chosen to do this.â
Mr. Park huffs, and you wonder how such a tiny old man can fit so much sass in him. âIf you must know: the Queen loved how your âŠâ he pauses and within a fraction of a second you have a feeling where this is going, â⊠your mother designed the gardens on the West end.â
Mr. Park walks towards his desk and sits down, not looking at you as he cards through a few binders. âThe Queen wants a similar style for this courtyard but since we canât exactly have her back âŠâ
You wince for real this time as you conclude, â⊠you tried to get the next closest thing.â
Mr. Park nods, not returning a snarky comment this time, much to your pleasure. âIâm the head of Design & Architecture, by the way, if you have any questions ask meâas long as itâs not stupid. You lead your projectâdesign it and plan it. When you need people to work on it just talk to Seokmin and heâll assign someone. You have three months to finish it. If you need an extension, youâll have to get it approved by me.â
âOkay,â you respond quickly, trying to take in all the information at once. âIs there, like, a theme? Anything she wants in particular?â
âThatâs a stupid question,â Mr. Park says bluntly and you frown as he points at a desk behind you. âYour desk is there. Any information you need will be there.â
âY-yes sir, thank you,â you say, bowing and turning on your heel to sit down at your new chair. The desk is dark, wooden, and completely barren except for a thin folder set in the middle. Opening it, thereâs a single paper inside with only a few bullet points typed out, and it hardly takes you a moment to read through all of it.
Itâs vagueâyour only real requirements are the adherence to the kingdomâs symbolic purple colors, and inclusion of a general theme throughout the courtyard.
You furrow your eyebrows at the lack of guidanceâwere you really left to make such major decisions about such a large space in a castle you havenât been in years? Thereâs so much room for error and disappointment and rejection, and after the past years of being treated like your family was nothing but a mistake, you arenât sure if you can handle any more of it.
Closing your eyes, you absentmindedly nod to yourself in a silent promise. Closing the folder, you stand up. âMr. Park, sir, do you know where the courtyardââ
âThere is a map on the wall. Figure it out.â
You huff, glancing at the large map of the castle next to the chalkboard. This is going to be harder than you thought.
You run into Seokmin just as you leave 77, and he helps lead you to the courtyard. âSo youâre working on this one, huh,â he says under his breath as you both appear in front of a large plot of land surrounded by castle buildings on all sides. Youâre both standing on the East entrance to the courtyard, and there are four adjacent and opposite entrances on all other sides.
âUh, yeah,â you say steadily, glancing back down at your minimal instructions before looking back up at the courtyard. Itâs a square, and if you had to estimate, each side would be around 50 yards long, leaving quite a great deal of space for you to work with it.
âPretty big project, huh,â Seokmin says, although his tone seems much more lighthearted than your mood. How the hell are you supposed to transform this in three months?
âYeah,â you mutter, squinting at the bright sunlight as you analyze the plot.
âYou know, I can totally help if you want,â Seokmin begins to say, and you take note of how quickly he talks. âI donât know if Mr. Park told you but you can basically ask me for help on anything and like, Iâm really doing this whole interning thing for funââ Who the hell works as an intern for Mr. Park, for fun? ââso Iâd be happy to help.â
âThanks. Iâll ask if I need anything.â
âGreat!â Seokmin cheers, clapping his hands together before looking behind your shoulder and letting his smile brighten. He waves at someone behind you and you purse your lips together, wondering if you should brace yourself for yet another salty interaction.
âMinnie!â a deep voice greets and suddenly, your feet seem glued in their spot. You know that voice.
âShua, hey!â Seokmin says cheerily, and you silently cringe. âCrazy running into you here, gosh, I havenât seen you since last week!â
Prince Joshua laughs, and it reminds you of all those years ago when you watched him from inside the greenhouse. You hate how you remember.
âYeah, my fencing instructor let me off earlier so I thought I might browse around the castle for a bit,â he explains, and when it all goes quiet and you realize that he must be looking at you, but you donât dare to turn around.
âOh,â Seokmin exclaims, as if heâs just realized that he forgot something. You feel a tapping on your shoulder, and for a second you debate just running the other way and never letting yourself return to the castle but for something, youâre planted in your place. âHey, look,â he says quietly in your ear, âItâs the Prince.â
Like you donât fucking know that. Nodding, you slowly follow his lead and turn around, eyes trained on the ground as you bow.
âOh, well if it isnât that little ray of sunshine,â Prince Joshua says, and it takes everything to not let your eye twitch as you finally look up at him. Heâs wearing the same royal uniform you say to him when you showed up on his doorstep and his eyes are crinkled as he smiles widely.
Your face burns as Seokminâs eyes flicker back and forth between you, and your lips are pressed together in an awkward silence. âYou know each other?â His face displays nothing but perplexion for a few moments but then it seems that some of the cogs turned and his lips open wide into a large âo,â and Seokmin waves his finger while nodding. âOh youâre the girl Shua said he had to offer four years worth ofââ
âSeokmin,â Prince Joshua interrupts, putting his hand over his friendâs mouth after catching the look of mortification on your face for bringing it up. âMr. Park was calling you, Iâm pretty sure.â
âUgh, are you kidding me? I thought this would be fun for the summer but he actually has me doing stuff!â As the two converse casually, you wonder how hard itâd be to quickly slip away.
âNot sure what you expected,â Joshua chides his friend before Seokmin groans and you hear the heavy footsteps of him walking away. He calls out your name once and your eyes shoot up as you bashfully wave your hand at him, bidding goodbye.
Youâre left in this corridor with the empty thoughts in your head and the goddamn prince of the kingdom. You half expect him to just wave at you and go about his own business, but it seems like you still have a lot of learning to do.
After all, Prince Joshua is a fickle man. âItâs nice to see you again, Sunshine,â he greets, and you think you might pass out from embarrassment. Glancing around, you see a few maids overhear him using the name and murmuring their own whispers amongst themselves as they rush away.
âH-hi,â you say nervously, suddenly aware that much attention is on you now that the prince is speaking to you.
âSo this is what youâre working on?â he asks curiously, not paying a single mind to your awkwardness, walking toward the door which leads to the East entrance to the courtyard.
âYes sir,â you murmur. You could be snappish outside the walls and in the boundaries of your own home but here, youâre bound by royal courtesy and witnesses that surround you. Compliance is all you can manage out in the open.
âDonât call me sirâyouâre around the same age as me, so it feels weird,â Joshua says dismissively, and you furrow your brows at how casual heâs being. âSo,â he starts, looking out at the empty yard of dirt, âyou got any idea of what youâre going to do with it?â
âNot a clue,â you reply honestly, keeping your answers brisk. Joshua seems to catch on and he pouts at you. How can a man act so childish? The thought lingers in your head for a moment before he starts talking to you.
âSo cold. Brighten up Sunshine. Iâll stop in soon to see how itâs going hereâIâm interested!â he says cheerily before stepping back and nodding. You bow as he walks away, waving to you one last time before leaving you in the corridor with not a single thought in his mind.
There seems to be a distinct odd air around the prince, except you canât quite place why that is.
Itâs been three weeks since you started working at the castleâtime passes quickly when you have loads of work to do and not much time to do it. You spent the first week hunched over at your desk simply raking your mind for ideas, for anything that would give you even a smidge of inspiration.
77 is rather sparse. Itâs only really you and Mr. Park actually working in there, with the occasional Seokmin running in and out to tend to everyoneâs miniscule needs.
And then thereâs Jihoon, who is the only other person who actually works at his desk, even if itâs only for an hour a day. Jihoon is slightly brooding and always has his nose buried in some work, but he seems standoff-ish to just about everyone. He isnât unkind though, just ⊠just reserved, and you feel thankful that thereâs another person somewhat like you here.
77 is kind to you and your heart. Everyone works on their own schedule and is in their own head, and no one seems to treat you extraordinarily different. You wish the same would go for the rest of the castle.
On the second day of your work, the embroidered name on the fabric over your right breast was clear enough for people to start learning who you were and recognize your face.
But youâre used to the staresâboth the subtle and obvious onesâand you are used to the whispers, the guessing games about whether or not youâre a slut just like your mother was.
Youâre not, by the way, but youâve had enough experience with these kinds of people to know that they can guess all they want but you know the answer, and the truth will come to light at some point. You donât have to prove yourself to anyone, they'll figure it out on their own. Eventually.
By the second week, you figured out a plan and needed to get to work on executing it. Seokmin seemed to be pleased when you asked him for help on that.
âI need people who can build a pathway,â was all you needed to tell him and then he was on the phone, and then the next day you had ten men ready for you by the dirt field ready to work. âI want stone tiles and it needs to curve exactly like this,â you told them, showing them a scaled down map of the area with a long, curvy line running from the North to South ends, and another even more curvy one running from the East to West end.
They didnât ask questions, which youâre grateful for, because coming up with it was a whole feat on its own. Explaining it would be a whole other story.
As you walk up to the castleâs entrance today, you catch sight of a girl who sits in her little hut in front of the East gate. Sheâs the same girl who helped you on the first day, you realize. She was kind then, you remember, but now as you meet her gaze, she turns away and pretends to go back to her phone.
You donât frown or let the gesture sear your heart because in all honesty, thatâs exactly what youâre expecting. Sighing, you make your way to the smaller gate and walk the small way up to the actual castle grounds before heading straight to 77.
Jihoon is sitting at his desk but is just about to get up, sending you a quick nod as he stacks his files and walks out of the room. Mr. Park isnât here, for once, although you did overhear some information about a ball happening tonight so you figure he must be busy.
Youâre thankful Seokmin is here, and you catch him watering one of the plants. âHey, what are you doing?â you ask him hastily, walking up behind his back before grabbing the watering pot from his hands.
âUm ⊠watering ⊠the plants?â
âThese are yarrows,â you emphasize, pointing at the white flowers he was just watering.
âOkay ⊠I am really not sure what to do with that information,â Seokmin says slowly as if he isnât quite processing your words.
Huffing, you tell him, âYarrows donât need a lot of water. You arenât watering them ⊠I think a better word would be drowning.â
âOh,â Seokmin mutters, looking down at that pot thatâs now rich with soaked soil. âSorry, I, uh, didnât know,â he apologizes, and you purse your lips together because he does sound sincere.
âItâs okay ⊠sorry for being mean about it,â you add quietly, returning the pot to his hand. âI can send you a list laterâof all the plants here and how much water they need.â
Seokminâs ears perk up. âReally? Thank you, but you seriously donât have to, you know.â
âI know, but I enjoy talking about plants and stuff. And Iâd rather the ones in this room be taken care of nicely, so the least I can do is help you,â you offer before retreating to your desk. âI think I need your help by the way, so can you come with me?â you ask, pulling out a measuring tape from a drawer.
Seokmin nods, dropping the watering bucket by his own desk and following behind you as you leave the room. The journey from the Advisory Quart to your courtyard, which is located near Royal Residence Quart, is quite the walk, and youâd be lying if you said you werenât a little bit pleased that you had someone like Seokmin as company.
âHowâs the project turning out?â he asks as you make your way down the long hallways. You catch a few other workers spare the two of you glances and you try to hold your head up and look forward when you respond.
âIâm a little behind,â you admit. âBut the construction manager told me that they should be finished with the pathway today, and I asked them to start tilling some other parts of the field so I can get some flora in there soon.â
âOh really Thatâs niceâI stopped by the place just the other day and the pathway was looking pretty coolâthe color fit in really well.â
âHm, thatâs good ⊠I was worried about that,â you murmur to yourself thoughtfully, pulling out your phone so you can glance at the list of things you need to get done before heading back to 77. Tucking the device back into a crevice of your robe, you smile as you near the East end courtyard entrance. âI gotta get a plaque up here or something,â you remind yourself, looking at the empty space above the entrance.
âYou want me to get on that soon?â Seokmin offers and you shrug.
âI guess. Iâll still have to come up with a name for this place âŠâ you say, walking into the courtyard.
âWow,â Seokmin mutters as he follows behind you. âThe pathway looks great!â He pats your back and you throw him a small smile when you look over the two twisting paths that connect the 4 ends of the courtyard. âWhat was it that you needed my help with againâOh hey! Shua!â
Oh for fuckâs sakeâ
âSeokminnie!â that familiar, smooth voice appears from behind you as Seokmin turns on his heel and scurries toward his friend. Slowly and carefully, you tuck your hands behind your back and bow when you turn around and are met with the sight of Prince Joshua. âSunshine,â he greets with a smile after exchanging his casual pleasantries with his friend.
âGood morning sir,â you murmur as Seokmin bounces up and down on feet from a newfound excitement. How does he have this much energy at nine in the morning?
âI thought I said donât call me sir,â Prince Joshua tells you, scrunching his face up when you let the word slip from your mouth. âFeels weird.â
âIâm sorry but youâre kind of the prince. I donât think thereâs anything else for me to call you other than âsir,ââ you huff lowly before slapping a hand over your mouth. Youâre not scared of what Joshua might do, per se, but the thought of someone else overhearing your snarky remark has you reminding yourself to be more careful.
Joshua only chuckles. Is there anything that bothers him? âYouâre funny,â he comments. âYou can call me Joshua, like Minne over here,â he tells you, patting Seokminâs shoulder affectionately.
Your face sours and you shake your head, âIâm sorry that doesnât feel right.â
Joshua rolls his eyes playfully, choosing to ignore what you said and instead looks around the courtyard. âNice pathway. Itâs cool that it isnât straightâis it supposed to be something?â
âSort of,â you say, turning around to look at the stone on the ground. âItâs confusing.â
Joshua scoffs. âTry me.â
You furrow your eyebrows. Why Prince Joshuaâor as he would like you to call him, just Joshuaâis so curious about a random courtyard is beyond you. âTheyâre just lines that follow the movement of sunlight. I guess. I donât really know how to explain it.â
âThatâs cool,â Seokmin chimes in when he sees you pulling out a roll of measuring tape. âOh yeah, sorry, I didnât get to hear what you said you needed help with.â
âOh yeah, I just want to measure aââ
âSorry for interrupting,â Joshua says, and you frown when he pulls out a buzzing phone, holding it up to Seokminâs face. âWhat did you do this timeâwhy is Mr. Park calling me?â
Seokminâs eyes widen in panic as you watch the scene unfold. âWhat?! I havenât done anything wrong recently. Well I donât think I did and Iâm pretty sureââ
Heâs cut off by Joshua pressing his finger over his lip, effectively shutting him up. You almost laugh at the way Seokmin complies so quickly, but hold it back as Joshua holds the phone up to his ear. The sounds that come from the call are muffled but you can vaguely make out the voice of your boss before Joshua sighs and ends the call.
âWhat are yarrows and what did you do to them?â he asks his friend, and this time you actually do stifle out a giggle. Joshua glances at you as you quickly press your lips back into a fine line, both of you turning your attention back to Seokmin whose ears are turning bright red, shoulders tensing up.
âOh noâI really donât want another scolding!â he whines.
âWell buckle up, because heâs asking for you back at 77 right now,â Joshua shrugs as Seokmin huffs, stomping off back into the corridor and presumably back toward the Advisory Quart. âSorry,â he says, turning to you, âI keep sending your assistant away when you need him.â
âItâs fine,â you say gruffly. âI, uh, I can still do this all by my stuff so itâs not really a big deal.â
Joshua narrows his eyes. âAre you sure? I donât have fencing for another âŠâ He glances down at his star studded wrist watch for a second, â⊠thirty minutes so I can help out.â
To say youâre mortified by the offer is an understatement. A prince helping out you? He must be fucking with you becauseâ
âStop giving me weird looks. I know how to help out around here, you know?â
âDuly noted, but Iâm not sure how it would look on my end if the prince was helping me out withââ you gesture to the field around you, ââyard work.â
Joshua laughs, and once again youâre left in perplexity. âWerenât you the one who reminded me that this is the 21st century? I donât just sit around and do nothing, you know that right?â
âBut still,â you mumble.
âOkay fine. If youâre so obsessed with this royal hierarchy thing, then I, as Prince Joshua, am officially requesting you to let me help. Surely you wonât turn that down.â
This man is so weird.
âFine,â you relent, holding up the measuring tape. âYou see that little circle in the middle where the pathways sort of curve around? I need to measure the circumference of it.â
âThatâs it?â Joshua asks casually, grabbing one end of the measuring tape as you make your way to the plot. âOh, I mean I guess itâs kinda big,â he adds, glancing down at the measuring tape. This one only goes up to 15 feet.â
âYouâre right,â you mutter to yourself. âOkay here, letâs just use this,â you say, pulling out a roll of thin string and handing one end to Joshua. âIf you stand here Iâll just circle it around and measure the length of the string,â you explain, unraveling the roll and walking around the outer edge of the circle, trailing the string behind you.
Joshua just stands in the spot that you placed him, holding the string and frowning. âI feel like Iâm not helping much.â
âTrust me,â you reply under your breath. âYouâre helping me just enough.â You donât mean it to come out bitter, but it does anyways.
âWhat happened to all the royal hierarchy stuff that you were on about?â
Your eyes harden on him as youâve made it halfway around the length of the circle, pausing to make sure he notices your subtle glare. âIf you didnât know, this is kind of my job on the line, and while youâve made it clear that what I say doesnât affect you, Iâm not sure the same could be said for what other people see. So Iâm sorry if I donât want people looking at us and getting the wrong idea.â
âWhat do you mean the wrong idea?â
Huh. And here you thought that with all those royal tutors, the prince would be smart. Too bad for Joshua, but right now, heâs coming off as just about the densest guy alive.
Youâve been working at the castle for five weeks now. Since your last meeting with Joshua (he insists you get rid of the âPrinceâ and âsirâ so diligently now that even in your head, youâve removed him of those honorifics), youâve only seen him twice.
The first was three days after he helped you measure the length of your soon to be pond. You were on the phone with a construction contractor in 77 when Joshua popped in to say âhiâ to Seokmin (how and why the two are friends, you donât know, and you donât care enough to ask). Noticing you were here past the regular working hour of six, he waited for a few moments to let you finish up your call before walking up to your desk.
âYou know you donât get paid overtime, right Sunshine?â he asks, confused on why exactly you were still here.
âWell work needs to get done,â you sigh heavily, taking a few seconds to clean up your desk and throw away a few old designs you sketched earlier.
âHey, those looked cool, whyâd you trash them?â
âThey didnât work,â you tell him, rummaging through more papers to find the few that you actually wanted to keep.
âTold you,â Seokmin comes up from behind Joshua, patting his shoulder. âSheâs a tough judgeâeven on herself.â
âI get what you mean now,â Joshua murmurs, nodding along with his friend.
Your eyes snap up. âWhy are you talking about me as if Iâm not hereâwait, why do you guys talk about me when Iâm not here anyways?â
âYouâre like the only one thatâs nice to me in 77! Well, sort of,â Seokmin reasons with you.
âI mean you do kind of suck as an internââ
âHey! I just happened to get distracted a lot. Iâm an honest worker, trust!â
You huff, finally finding the paper that you were looking for. Itâs a design for a couple plaques that you want posted above the entrances, and you tuck it into a folder.
âIs that in Latin?â Joshua piques when he catches a glimpse of the wording.
âUh, yeahâyou know Latin?â
âHeâs a prince. Of course he does,â Seokmin tells you, turning around to nudge his friend on the side. âThis spoiled brat has been learning Latin since he was six!â
Joshua scoffs. âWhoâre you calling a spoiled brat? You were in those classes with me too!â
You consider wondering about who exactly Seokmin is and why he was in those classes with a prince, why heâs so close with Joshua, and a plethora of questions run through your mind, before you remind yourself that you really donât care.
âYeah butââ Seokmin tries to reason with his friend before you stand up and both of their attention are directed at you.
âYouâre right PriâJoshua. I donât get paid overtime, so Iâm gonna get going now.â You bow at him and then Seokmin, grabbing your folder and bag before pushing in your chair and heading to the exit. Awkwardly, the two boys say bye to you before glancing at each other.
âThat was weird,â Seokmin says, and Joshua shrugs.
âI guess.â
âDid you actually understand what she wrote or were you just bluffing? I donât remember shit from those Latin lessons.â
Joshua rolls his eyes and nods. âYeah, but I only got the second word. Said âinvictus,â I think.â
âHuh, cool. Got no clue what that means.â
âIt means undefeatable, dipshit,â Joshua groans. âSeriously, howâd you pass that class!â
âHey, I was a great studentâI just have, uh, bad memory,â Seokmin pouts.
âYeah I can tell ⊠seriously, how did you manage to fuck up the yarrows even after she,â Joshua gestures behind him as if to point at where you exited just a few moments earlier, âsent you all those instructions and all!â
âGod, donât remind me. I actually feel really bad, âcause Mr. Park yelled at her too for giving me âthe wrong instructions,â but I really just forgot what she told me.â Cringing at the mental image of both you and Seokmin being scolded by Mr. Park, Joshua shakes his headâthat is not a pretty scene.
Joshua sighs, the two of them making their way out of the empty 77 and walking down the corridor towards the Royal Residence Quart. âWhyâre you even interning for him? You donât need a job, especially not as one being an assistant.â
âMy dadâs pissed at me, remember?â Seokmin tells his friend gruffly, and Joshua purses his lips at the mention of the older man.
âRight.â
âWanted to punish me for the summer or whatever, but I guess itâs not too bad. The staff are actually pretty funny, and your Sunshine girl is really bossy so she gives me a lot of work to do.â
âI canât tell if youâre complaining or celebrating.â
âBoth, I think,â Seokmin replies, the two of them laughing together. âWhy do you talk to her so much? Sheâs even snappier to you than to me, and trust me, I can be pretty damn annoying.â
âLike I donât know that,â Joshua mutters teasingly, earning him a punch on the arm. âBut anyways, she seems interesting. Like cool, you know what I mean.â
âI guess,â Seokmin says absentmindedly. âWonder what my dad would say about that.â
âOkay well your dad isnât the King so I donât really think it matters what your dad says about it.â
Seokmin raises a brow. âYou sure? My dad almost had me transferred out of 77 because he heard I had to work with her.â
âWell thatâs his own problem I guess. Just donât let him bring it up with my dad because Iâm not keen on having any more drama in this castle,â Joshua mumbles, stopping in front of the big door that leads to the residence.
Seokmin nods at one of the guards standing by the door, and she presses a code to a small box on the wall and the doors open. âYou coming? Dinnerâs about to be served,â he calls to Joshua when he walks forward but realizes his friend isnât by his side.
Smiling, Joshua shakes his head and waves Seokmin off. âIâm gonna take a breather for a bit. Tell them to start dinner without me.â
Seokmin laughs. âYou know they wonât do that.â
âI know, I know, but itâs the gesture that counts anyways. Iâll be back in twenty, trust.â
The second time you saw Joshua was yesterday evening just as you were just leaving 77 to head home, your arms full of papers to look through in the night. After getting the pathways cleaned up, you needed to work on adding more structures to the courtyard, but were at a loss of what to make and what to make it with.
With your stack of papers that were littered with different possible materials and architectural structures that you promised yourself to get through by the end of the night, even if it meant pulling a whole damn all nighter.
âIs Sunshine leaving at a normal time for once?â Joshua asks with a faux gasp as he comes across you in the hallway.
With the paperâs digging into your arms, you can only manage to grunt out a short, âThankfully, I am,â before increasing your pace so you can get all this stuff to your car as quickly as possible.
âHey, wait!â Joshua calls out from behind you, and you almost whine because your arms are killing you and you arenât sure how much more of this you can handle. âDo you need help? I canââ
Heâs cut off by the sound of your phone slipping from your pocket and crashing to the ground. âShit,â you whimper under your breath as you try to balance all the papers on one hand while crouching down to pick up your phone with the other. Youâre wobbling under all the weight, and you have half a mind to give up right here and now but then a larger hand is pushing itself into your vision.
âHere,â he says, quickly turning over the device to check for any cracks on the scene. In that fraction of a moment, your phone turns on and flashes your very bright and very embarrassing lock screen. Your face burns as you snatch the phone from his hands and tuck it back into your pocket. âIs that Percy Jackson?â
Adjusting the papers in your hand, you shuffle your feet and start walking toward the exit. Joshua follows, as expected. âUh, yeahâI know itâs embarrassing butââ
âUh, you did not just say that,â Joshua scoffs, and when you catch the oddly offended look on his face, your annoyance dissipates for a moment. âPercy Jackson is not embarrassing. Those books were like the defining character of my pre-teens.â
You chew on your lip, wondering how you should respond to this. âThatâs cool. I used to like the stories too âŠâ
âSeems like you still do, considering itâs like, your lock screen and all.â
âLook, I just have it âcause it looks cool,â you tell him bashfully, speeding up the pace of your steps in hopes that itâll bring this conversation to end faster.
âUh yeah, sure. Totally believe you.â
âIâm serious,â you huff. âI liked the books ages ago, but now Iâm only interested in Greek mythology. It just so happens that the best art of Greek gods comes from Percy Jackson fan artists.â
âSure. sure,â Joshua says blankly with a smirk teasing at his lips. âAgain, totally believe you.â You donât know why his subtle teasing has you gripping onto your papers so tightly, why it has you gritting your teeth together. And then you remember who this is and it all makes sense.
Joshua is playful and lighthearted, but he is still the Prince, after all.
Your sixth week at the castle, and youâre nearing the halfway mark for your projectâs timeline. Youâve spent the past week working on getting some stone benches built into the courtyard, and just this morning you sent in an order to get some plaques engraved.
Mr. Park stopped by when you were checking out your progress earlier, glancing at the pathways and the nearly completed seating. He didnât say anything, simply nodding and walking along, and you figure that thatâs the best youâll get from him.
Your day goes by fine, for the most part after that. When you take your lunch break at the cafeteria, Seokmin tags along and youâre pleased that for once, you wonât have to eat alone. He has to leave soon after thoughâapparently Jihoon called for his help, and so youâre left to take care of this afternoonâs work by yourself.
Not that you mindâpeople let you be in the castle, and itâs actually quite nice for getting work done. When you return to 77, itâs only occupied by Mr. Park who, as always, pays no mind to you. Taking a look at your schedule, you arenât sure if you feel like smiling or frowning when you see your next activity lined up.
Visiting the greenhouse.
Thereâs an odd feeling that blooms in your stomach as you walk there. You havenât been to this side of this castle yet, partly because you donât need to, but mostly because you donât want to.
Itâs when you leave the walls and take your way out to the Northeastern gardens of the palace that the pathways start ringing bells in your head. The familiar green bushes that you remember your mother tending to. The fields of daffodils, and the little built in canals that lead toward the row of greenhousesâitâs all flooding back to you, and you canât figure out if you like it or not.
When you first came to the castle, you figured that you could avoid confronting the remnants of your past, but you shouldâve known that everything eventually goes full circle.
Which is how you find yourself standing in front of the greenhouse where everythingâyour life, your motherâs life, all of itâended on that day over ten long years ago.
Taking a deep breath, you go up to the door of the largest greenhouse ,tentatively tapping on the blurry glass before pushing it open. Peeking inside, youâre met with the familiar sight of flora arranged in neat lines of soil beds.
As you step in, the air is moist and stuffyâwhen you inhale, youâre reminded of those early Saturday mornings where you sat by your motherâs desk and watched her tend to the plants. The humidity was usually uncomfortable, but you learned to love it. Right now, you learn how much you missed it.
âCan I help you?â a gruff voice interrupts your thoughts, and you whip your head around to find an elderly woman glaring up at you.
âHi, I called earlier and you said I could take some of the hyacinths. I just wanted to ask which greenhouse theyâd be in becauseââ
â31C,â she says bluntly, immediately turning back around to tend to whatever she was doing earlier.
You watch her for a few seconds blankly, before snapping out of your haze, âO-okay, thank you.â Pursing your lips, you let your head hang low as you start walking toward the door.
âThat damned slut,â the woman mutters quietly. You donât think you want to hear it, but you continue to listen anyway. âThinks she can just send her daughter over andââ
âAnd?â
You donât think youâve ever been more happy to hear Joshuaâs voice.
Looking up, heâs just entered through the entrance you were about to exit through, and while you would usually mull over the possible reasons he would be here, youâre far more focused on watching the bewildered look on this womanâs face
âNothing sir!â she replies quickly, back straightened as she presses her hands behind her back.Â
âGood to hear,â he says simply. You watch from the side as Joshua gives her a look that you canât really gauge before turning to you with a brighter look on his face. âSeokmin told me I would find you here?â
âIâyeah, he was right.â
âWell I can see that Sunshine,â Joshua chuckles and waves your hand in a gesture to follow him. You donât have any other choice than to follow him out the greenhouse and into the much freer, lighter air. âWhatâre you doing here anyways?â he asks when you start finding your way to 31C.
âI need to look at some flowers.â Joshua asks you quite a bit about the courtyard, and although you donât really get it, youâve learned that itâs easier to just reply to his questions honestly than try to avoid them.
âFor the courtyard?â he piques as you finally find the smaller greenhouse, opening the door to thankfully find it empty of anyone else.
Your gaze lands on a bed of hyacinths as you reply, âWhat else?â
âOkay, you need to stop answering all of my questions like Iâm stupid.â
Huffing, you pull up a pot from under the bed and fill it up with soil before digging your hands into the dirt around one of the hyacinth plants. Your fingers search under the earth before feeling against the roots and carefully pulling out the plant.
âMaybe stop asking stupid questions then,â you suggest.
âSeeing as you think Iâm dumb ⊠do you want to tutor me?â
âWhat?â you deadpan, looking up at him with your hands still in the dirt. âWhy?â
âI mean like, youâre smart and all, plus we get alongââ
You click your tongue, finally pulling the plant out of the soil and pressing it into the pot. âNot so sure about that second part.â
âOkay well we have some shared interests and stuffââ
âLike?â you counter, walking over to a sink so you can wash the excess soil off.
âPercy Jackson. Greek mythology?â
Your ears perk up at that. âYou like Greek mythology?â
âYes! See! Thatâs like, already two common interests, Sunshine.â
âMore like only two. And one of them is a book series I havenât read in about nine years so Iâm not even sure it counts,â you rebut.
âOh no, it definitely counts,â Joshua counters, watching you pick up the flower pot and head towards the greenhouse exit. âWait, weâre diverting from the point here.â
âWhat is the point again?â
âYou need to tutor me!â he whines as he follows behind you, up the pathway back to the castle.
âI need to? Uh, sorry, but I donât think tutoring the Prince is under my job description.â
âThis is a different job though!â
You knit your eyebrows together. âAm I getting paid?â
âYou might,â Joshua smirks. âIâll pay you by the hour.â
Pondering, you chew on the inside of your cheek, before you finally respond, âHow much are we talking?â
Joshua grins, shaking his head. âShouldâve known money was the way to your heart Sunshine.â
âMoney is not the way to my heart. Itâs just the way to get me to tutor you. Donât mix those two up.â
âDonât worry Sunshine, I wish you all the best in finding your sugar daddy husband eventually.â
Glaring, you chastise him. âJoshua!â
âWhy did you ask me to do this again?â you ask, stepping into the room Joshua has just led you to. Itâs near the Royal Residence Quart of the castle, and youâre a bit on edge. Joshua assured you earlier that no one would question why you of all people would be here with him, but youâve also noticed that the boy can be a bit distant from reality.
âBecause,â Joshua starts, watching you look around the room (it is a very nice room; bookshelves line the walls and thereâs a grand desk in the middle, a rolling chalkboard on one end and a vintage map on another rolling board scattered off to another end). âI donât like the royal tutor they have, and youâre smart,â he says casually.
âYou canât ask for another one?â you murmur, raising a brow as he moves to the desk and hands you a folder.
âI could, but my mother would get upset if I keep running through them. Iâve changed my tutors far too many times by now.â
âAh,â you say dryly. âThe extreme difficulties of the royalty. How unfortunate.â
âSunshine,â Joshua grins, ignoring your snarky comment. âCan you at least pretend you want to be here?â
âUm, Iâll think about it,â you reply honestly, pursing your lips together as you glance at his chalkboard which has a list of things he needs to go over. âWhat is it that you need help on?â
âWell Iâm good at math and stuff but Literature and Chemistry are quite literally killing me,â Joshua says with a sigh, sitting down at his desk.
âLiterature?â you ask with narrowed eyes. âYouâre the Princeâisnât Literature supposed to be like, I donât know, your forte?â
âWho told you that?â Joshua asks with a pout, pulling up a packet of papers and letting it down on his desk with a thud.
âI donât know, I guess I just assumed theyâd be having you read Machiavelli or something like that from the age of two.â
Joshua scoffs, holding up the book so you can read out the title. Oh, itâs The Waste Land. âOkay I get that this is a kingdom and all but seriously, who even uses Machiavellianism anymore? Thatâs from like six hundred years ago.â
âLess than that,â you correct, but shrug anyways and sit down at the chair on the other side of his desk. âBut whatever, you need help with The Waste Land?â
âI mean, yeah Iâve read it a bunch but I just never get it and my mom is obsessed with it for some reason and I really donât want her to make me sit through another read of it so I really need to write up something good on it that will satisfy my Literature instructor and my mom so I can get it out of the way.â
âA paper?â
âYeah, you know: analyzing themes and stuff.â
âOkay I know what a paper is,â you snap and Joshua rolls his eyes.
âLook now youâre just picking fights over everything I say. Just relax andââ
âI am relaxed,â you huff, but the tension in your shoulders says otherwise. To be honest, youâre still not sure why Joshua decided to choose you of all people, as if you havenât made it clear multiple times that you werenât his biggest fan.
You can respect the effort, you guess, but the way he seems so unbothered by your snarkiness is getting a little bit irritating.
âWhatever you say Sunshine,â Joshua says with a shrug, turning the packet and handing it to you. The poem is littered with annotations, underlines, and highlighter marks all over, and you squint for a moment trying to remind yourself of what you remember from the last time you looked at the work. âYou read it before? The Waste Land?â
âUh, yeah, ages ago though. Like back in high school,â murmur, flipping through the pages to jog your memory.
âWhy were you reading The Waste Land in high school? Seems like too much, no?â
âWell not everyone was granted the freedom to do as they please with whoever they please,â you tell him, eyes flickering between Joshuaâs curious face and the packet in front of you.
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â Joshua asks, and his voice is slightly whiny.
âIt means that people didnât want to talk to me so I had to spend my time reading. Even if it was âtoo much,â or whatever you said.â
âOh,â Joshuaâs voice is quiet. See, you remind yourself, clouded from reality is what Joshua is. âWell Iââ
âForget it. I think Iâm going to have to go home and reread The Waste Land if you want me to be of any help. What else do you have to work on, or do you just want to do Chemistry?â
âUh, sure we can move onto Chemistry,â Joshua replies hastily, tucking the paper back into his folder haphazardly before shoving it into a drawer and pulling out a much thicker notebook. âI kinda need help with a lot of it. LikeâIâm sorry I just donât get itâwhat the hell is an electrophile and a nucleophiles and why the hell I need to know them for alkanes andââ
âSlow down,â you say, sticking your hand out. You grab the notebook from his desk and skip over the contents before looking back up. âIf you want me to do this for you, weâre going to have to start from the basics, okay?â
Joshua gives you a look which tells you he doesnât think he needs to do that, but you open the notebook to a new page, pulling out a pen. Begrudgingly, he nods and leans his head in to see what youâre writing.
Heâs oddly compliant when you ask him to be, despite his jumpy and bubbly personality, and for a fraction of a second, you wonder about his potential. Quickly, you push that thought out of your mind.
Itâs late afternoon when you reach the courtyard, smiling at the progress. You told the workers to get started on digging up the pond this morning, and youâre pleased to see that thereâs already a large dugout in the century.
âGood work!â you chirp to Jungho, the contractor you talked to over the phone. He seemed nice enough over the phone, but you soon realized within the first time that you two met in person that he was just as standoff-ish as the rest. âBut weâre going to need to get the insides patted down and compressed so when we put the water in, the soil wonât just soak it up,â you try to tell him casually.
Jungho points his thumb behind him at some of his men. âYeah we have a guy for that,â he says gruffly, not even meeting your gaze.
âThanks ⊠maybe have it finished within a week?â
âOkay. Anything else?â Jungho looks around awkwardly, before adding. âWant us to get the water in there too? Then we can get outta ⊠outta your hair and stuff and donât have to keep coming back.â
âUh, noâthereâs some lining I want to do with the pond, and Iâve got to do that before thereâs water in it. But itâs something I want to do myself, so you can just take care of compressing the soil and Iâll take it from there.â
Jungho gives you a weird look but you brush it off. âAlright. Weâll have it finished by tomorrow,â he finalizes, and with that he turns on his heels and walks back to his workers who you can tell were watching him from the corner of their vision.
âWhy are those guys looking at you like that?â
You whip your head around, seeing Joshua standing just a few meters away from you on the pathway coming in from the East entrance. He glances around and finds a marble bench thatâs just been made, sitting on the edge casually.
âJoshua, youâve seen people look at me like that before and I think you know exactly why,â you mutter, walking over to where he sits. Joshua doesnât respond and instead averts his gaze to the ground.
Thereâs a stray kitten bouncing around at his feet, and heâs quick to drop to his knees on the pathway and engulf her in his large hands. It would be an endearing sight, you think. Sorta, you guess.
âWhatever. Youâre still coming in on Sunday right? My instructor prepared this stupid Chemistry exam for me on Tuesdays and I know you canât help out on Mondays so I kind of really need you to help me on Sunday so I can prep. So please, please, pleaseââ
âYou know Iâm gonna come in, so you donât have to pester me so much about it,â you say with a sigh, putting your folder down and crouching on the ground so you can pet the kitten. Sheâs cute, with wide slanted eyes and soft brown fur, the wet kitten licks feeling warm against your palm.
âBut you put up with it, donât you?â You roll your eyes but Joshua still grins when you donât disagree.
âI donât understand you,â you mutter, truthfully speaking your mind as the kitten rolls around in Joshuaâs lap. You smile without thinking, and Joshua carefully watches your usually taut face unravel in front of him.
âAre you kidding me? Iâm literally an open book. You know Sunshine, you can find my whole life on Wikipedia.â
You giggle. You fucking giggle at that, and itâs hard to tell who is more surprised between the two of you. âYou know thatâs not what I meant,â you murmur, struggling to hold back another laugh, the kitten jumping out of his lap to play around on the ground under the gentle hands of you and Joshua.
âNot that I would know. You think Iâm stupid anyways.â
âWhat? No I donât.â
âOh my god, please donât even try to counter that. When I told you I didnât know why helium was named helium, you looked at me like I was the dumbest person to ever live.â
âOkay thatâs only because you say you like Greek mythology! How could you not put that togetherâitâs so obvious! Helium and Helios sound totally alike, and everyone knows helium is like, one of the most abundant elements in the sun.â
âMaybe you know that. Youâre also insanely smart,â Joshua counters.
âWhatever you say. But for the record, I donât think youâre stupid. Maybe a little dense, but thatâs it.â
Joshua pouts. âArenât those basically the same thing?â You know heâs only being playful, but something about the way he says it makes you think twice. Heâs being sweet. So sweet, it feels almost bitter.
âNo. You have a smart head, Joshua. Honest. I think you just gotta learn how to use it,â you tell him, more softly this time.
âThanks Sunshine,â he replies gruffly and you frown, realizing that your attempts to make him feel better havenât quite worked.
âIâm serious. What? You donât think Iâm serious?â Joshua shakes his head, and you roll your eyes when you pick up the kitten yourself and pull her into your lap.
âYouâre mean. So no, I donât think youâre being serious.â
You gasp, using the hand that isnât playing with the kitten to place it over your chest dramatically. âI am not mean. Iâm just honest. Iâm being honest right now.â
âWhatever,â Joshua quips, turning his nose and looking away pettily.
âOkay, are you actually upset?â you groan, cradling the kitten up to your chest. You arenât sure if youâre more annoyed because you canât tell if Joshua is upset, or because you might be the reason heâs upset.
âWho knows. Not that you would care.â
âI obviously care, because Iâm asking,â you deadpan, letting the kitten roll around in your arms, letting out a squeak of surprise when one of its claws gets caught in the belt of your robe, making a tear in the silk.
Joshua gives you a funny look when he says, âYou can be quite pestering when you want to.â
âCongratulations! You now know how I feel.â
âSee what I mean! Youâre mean. I want the kitten back.â
You clutch the little close to your chest and nuzzle your face into her neck. âNo can do. Iâm afraid sheâs mine until you admit you know I donât think youâre stupid.â
âOh my god, is this how it feels when I annoy you?â Joshua grumbles, throwing his head back. âRemind me to never pester you again. Ever.â
âSelf awareness is great and all, but like I said, youâre not getting her until you admit it.â
âFine. I donât think you think Iâm stupid. Happy?â
You hum and shake your head. âMm, no. Gotta sound more convincing.â
Joshua knits his eyebrows together. âIf youâre so insistent on this, then I guess it must be true. I donât think you think Iâm stupid,â he repeats, but his tone is gentler this time.
âGood work.â
Joshua stands tall on a hill. His broad shoulders are sharp with his straightened back and taught jaw. The sky is orange and you watch him from below, the clouds moving slowly above his head in the background.
Heâs looking out at something, but you canât quite tell what. Itâs off in the distance, but his eyes are dilated and unwavering for a few long moments.
Wind whistles in your ear, and then the sky grows brighter and brighter until itâs no longer orange and suddenly turning yellow and then white. So white that it hinders your vision and youâre wincing through the light until you realize Joshua is not on the hill anymore.
You look around frantically to no availâyou canât see anything but white with black spots in your vision and you feel like youâre going blind. And you want to scream but when you open your mouth no sound comes and the blowing of wind grows louder and louder until it sounds like youâre at the beach.
Looking around, you see your legs knee deep in ocean water and youâre no longer hearing the rampage of wind and instead the crashing of waves against rocks. There isnât a hill anymore, thereâs a cliff, but still no sight of Joshua.
Itâs still so bright, so bright and you close your eyes tightly again until you feel a shade fall over your figure. A gasp escapes your lips when you see whatâs above you.
Wide wings, ornate with white and golden feathers, perched over Joshuaâs back as he hovers above you. Heâs not looking anywhere else now, only you.
His face glows and then he smiles and you close your eyes one last time but when you open them again, all you see is darkness.
Youâve never been great at remembering dreams. More often than not, you wake up with no remnants of the life you lived in your head the night before, and on the rare occasions that you do happen to recall something, itâs only just random snippets that also hardly make sense.
Last night was no different, although you do wake up with an uneasy feeling, not because of what you dreamed aboutâyou donât remember thatâbut because you know you dreamed about Joshua. Itâs just the wake up call you need to tell yourself that maybe, just maybe, youâre spending more time with him than you should.
Itâs a Saturday morning as you trudge out of bed and to the kitchen, trying to settle the weird feelings that course through your veins when you see your mother brewing a pot of tea. âHowâd you sleep?â she asks, not looking up from the boiling water.
Shrugging as you grab a home-grown orange, you respond, âWell enough.â
âCanât believe they have you going to the palace on the weekends too ⊠I never had to work on Saturdays or Sundays.â
You wonder how she brings up her time at the castle so casuallyâyou donât know if youâll ever understand her. âI really donât have toâI can work on my own schedule basically whenever, as long as I get the courtyard finished by the end of three months.â
âAnd howâs that going?â
âBehind schedule. Obviously. Thatâs why Iâm heading in again.â
Your mother smiles and walks over, ruffling your hair. âIâm glad youâre working hard on thisâI can tell youâre enjoying it, as much as you didnât want to go there.â
âItâs nice, I guess. I get to be creative, and get paid. Really, getting the money is all I care about,â you tell her casually, taking the peel off the orange and popping a piece into your mouth.
âYou donât talk about it much, but Iâm assuming people donât give you that hard of a time? You always come home fine.â
They do, it just doesnât happen to be anything youâre not used to. Your mind flashes to Joshua and Seokmin for a moment, and youâre once again reminded of the unnerving fact that you did dream about the former, and you canât even remember what it was about. âThings are fine.â
Youâre three tutoring sessions in with Joshua, and itâs finally the day that you pull out your own copy of The Waste Land. âOh thank god,â he says with a breath of relief when he sees it. âThis paper has been bugging me foreverâif we didnât get started on it soon I mightâve combust.â
âI appreciate the vivid imagery,â you say dryly, âbut I really did not need to picture that in my head.â
âSorry,â Joshua says with a shrug as you sit across from him. âSo whatâre we gonna do today, Sunshine?â
âHmm, get through the first part hopefully. We can read it back and forth and talk about it together, so you can take notes. It might be easier that way, so you can get all your thoughts and ideas out, and then itâll be easier for you to write that paper.â
âSounds boring.â
âI guess Iâll just pack my stuff andââ
âOkay! Okay! I was just joking. Letâs start, please,â he complies easily, and you smirk as you sit back down.
âGood to hear. Read this part.â
Youâre around an hour and a half into the lesson, still working through the first part as Joshua frowns when you finish another stanza.
âDo we have to keep going?â he whines.
âYes we do. Letâs work with this part now. Read it out for me,â you instruct, pointing out a stanza on your own paper.
âWhyââ You give him a look. ââokay fine.â
âYou gave me hyacinths first a year ago;âThey called me the hyacinth girl.ââYet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could notSpeak, and my eyes failed, I was neitherLiving nor dead, and I knew nothing,Looking into the heart of light, the silence.Oedâ und leer das Meer.
When heâs done, Joshua looks up at you blankly. âIf Iâm being honest, I have zero clue what this means.â
You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. âYouâve said that every time you read a new section, but I know thatâs not true, because you literally always come up with something.â
Joshua scrunches up his face and slaps his hands to his cheeks in frustration. âBut now Iâm being serious! This is making no sense to meâI hate Literature, okay? My brain is dead right now and I donât think I can do any more Sunshine.â
âWeâve been doing this for less than two hours,â you say bluntly. âLookâyou said you like Greek mythology right? Try and draw some connections. Maybe thatâll make this more enjoyable.â
âI hardly think T.S. Elliot could produce anything I enjoy,â Joshua huffs as he tilts the page so he can read it better, âBut fine. I still donât get what about this has anything to do with mythoâoh!â
âFinally! You get it?â
âHyacinthus!â You nod eagerly, gesturing your hands to tell him to go on. âUh, it was that story with Apollo. Shit, what was the story again?â He looks up and taps at his chin, but when you open your mouth to help him out, Joshua sticks a hand in front of your face and shakes his head. âNo wait, I remember. The one where they were in love but Apollo accidentally killed him when they were playing a game!â
âYouâre right. The blood of Hyacinthus was eventually turned into flowers by Apollo to honor his death or something like that. In the context of this poem ⊠the giver of the hyacinth flower is almost like a sign ofââ
Joshua snaps his fingers in the air and grins. âForgiveness!â
âWell, not exactly giving forgiveness, but asking for it.â
âKind of like ⊠saying youâre sorry?â Joshua smiles brighter when you nod. âHoly shit, maybe I do enjoy T.S. Elliot.â
You roll your eyes and point at his notebook and pen. âGood, now write that down. You are going to have to write about this, remember?â
Joshua pouts, but picks up the pen nevertheless. âWhatever you say Sunshine.â
âJoshua told me to tell you that he thinks T.S. Elliot sucks,â Seokmin says, coming up to you in the cafeteria as you polish off your own tray. Itâs a large and grand areaâan old ballroom that turned into a commonplace for the workers.
Large mirrors plate the walls, and across from you, you can watch Seokminâs reflection as he sits down next to you. Rolling your eyes, you turn to look at him, âHeâs only saying that because I told him to write the paper himself.â
Seokmin furrows his eyebrows as he places a white box, a little larger than the size of your hand, on the table. Glancing around, you catch people in the mirror watching you with wavering gazes before turning away when they find you looking at them.
Huff lightly, you turn your attention back to Seokmin. âWhatâs this?â
âJoshua told me to give it to you.â
Thatâs new. Tentatively, you lift the lid a little to peek inside, only finding a haphazard mess of stuffing paper with something purple concealed underneath. âWould it be a smart decision to open it right now?â
âOh my gosh, itâs not an explosive or anything.â
âYou donât know that!â
Seokmin rolls his eyes himself this time. âYes I do. I packed it.â
âUgh, even worse. Iâm not opening it if youâre around. Thatâs embarrassing.â
âIs not! I think that you shouldââ Seokmin is cut off by the sound of his own phone ringing, cursing under his breath when he sees the caller ID. For a moment, you consider peering over and taking a look, but Seokmin stands up too quickly. âI gotta go for a second. Iâll catch you before you leave!â he calls out when heâs already pushing his chair in and rushing off into the distance.
You laugh at his hurry, wondering what could possibly ensue such nervousness from the boy, but you quickly remind yourself that this is Seokmin and he gets the jitters when he even has to think about being around Mr. Park for more than twenty minutes.
Soon, you start to clean up your area yourself, putting your trays away and throwing away your trash in the weirdly fancy bins they have scattered around the hall. As your lunch break nears its end, you grab the oddly light box, your phone, and make your way back to 77.
The room is empty, safe for Jihoon whoâs got his head buried in his laptop, and you think itâs a good time to check whatâs inside. If it is an explosive, youâll just have to apologize to Jihoon in the afterlife.
Opening the lid, those same, crumpled papers lay on top, but this time you notice a little white card in the middle. Pursing your lips, your eyes flicker to your side to see if Jihoonâs watching (he never is, but it doesnât hurt to check), and when your privacy is confirmed, you flip the paper over.
Thereâs a message written in purple pen, adorning a handwriting that you can distinctly recognize as Joshuaâs.
Thank you for all the help. I really owe you one.
You arenât quite sure what heâs talking about, and you make a mental note to ask him about it when you see him later. Right now, you rummage through the papers, hands feeling the space beneath them before they land on a smooth layer of fabric.
Confused, you pull it out, only to see itâs a ribbon, much like the one tied around your own waist. Same color, same material, same emblem, the only difference being âŠ
You glance down at your own robes where the ribbon has a small tear at one end from where the kitten had pawed at you. You have to blink a few times to realize what Joshuaâs intentions were, and when you do, you canât help the warm smile that begrudgingly makes its way onto your face.
Quickly, you tug the ends of the ribbon around your waist and let it unravel, taking the new ribbon and tying it just as your mother taught you. Itâs the same thing as the one before, yes, but this is different. This is a gift.
Donning Joshuaâs (your?) ribbon, you start to clean up your desk space and tuck your old ribbon back into your bag. You forgot to tell Seokmin youâre tutoring Joshua this afternoon, so as you pack up you text him a sincere âthank youâ message, and let him know that you might not be able to see him before you go. You donât get a response, which is slightly odd since Seokmin seems to always be on top of things, but you shrug it off and remind yourself that heâs busy.
Today, you make your way down the smaller halls with a little skip to your step. Joshua showed you this pathway earlier so itâd be easier to get to his study room without being seen; itâs a nice little series of corridors that are a little dimmer and narrower, but still hold the lavish feel you always get walking through the palace.
You can hear the voices of a few people, but it seems quiet, hushed, and somehow a little heatedâin other words, caught up in their own world. Being in the castle for almost two months now, youâve learned to realize what kind of situations need your caution and which ones donât. This is the latter.
You smile to yourself, smoothing your palms over the new, not-torn silk ribbon around your waist, as you near the second entrance to his study, about to enter another hallway to the final stretch andâshit.
When you turn a corner, your heart stops.
You turn back and run down the corridor. You donât know if Seokmin saw you, and quite frankly, you donât care.
It didnât take you more than a second to put two and two together and suddenly youâre pushed back into your nine year old bodyâyou donât really know whatâs happening or why itâs happening, all you know is that it hurts.
Youâre going to have to apologize to Joshua for flaking on him. Surely heâll understand that you were just a little bit upset by the sight you had to see.
After all, you did just witness Seokmin, quite literally your only real friend in this damn castle, speaking to Advisor Lee, the man who tore your motherâs life down. And now is when everything starts to click, because you realize that Seokmin is Advisor Leeâs son.
Of course he was close with Joshuaâhe probably grew up on these very castle grounds. Of course they attended the same classesâhis father was the Kingâs advisor and cousin.
It makes sense now, and in your bleary haze as you make your way back to 77, youâre not sure what to do. You rush past a few other staff members murmuring under their breath when they see you, and you usually wouldnât be bothered by the sight but now you remember that this is the first time youâve cried since you got here, and itâs all because of that man who started this all in the first place.
As you lock yourself in one of the staff bathrooms, you catch your disheveled appearance and furiously wipe at your cheeks. Fuck. You shouldnât be crying. You canât be crying over this, because god knows you did not spend years thickening your skin for it to be cut open like this.
You shouldâve known. Shouldâve fucking known.
You try to stop your tears, telling yourself that theyâre all the same. That you shouldnât have expected anything more from these people, that you shouldâve picked up on how Seokmin was definitely someone important, that you shouldâve never fallen for his and Joshuaâs sweet games.
âShit,â you gasp out as a sob rips from your throat, and you clutch the side of the sink as uneasiness bubbles up in your stomach and spreads through your limbs until youâre trembling.
Maybe you let him get so close because you thought he saw you for something else. Maybe you believed that he saw you as more than a pity project. More than someone who was defined by their past.
Joshua and Seokminâthey knew. They knew everything this whole damn time.
And now youâre angryâyouâre so fucking angry. Tugging at your hair, ripping up your clothes, and thrashing your limbs around kind of angry. The kind of anger that poisons your bones and makes your body ache until you canât take it anymore. The kind of anger that wraps its hand around your throat and squeezes the air out of you until you can do nothing but relent. The kind of anger that has you looking at yourself in the mirror and thinking, what the fuck.
The worst thing is you canât even be mad at him. You want to be mad at him and you want to be mad at Joshua. You want to have the will to go up to them and slap the smiles off their faces because how dare Seokmin be the own flesh and blood of Advisor Lee, and how dare Joshua know and not have the guts to tell you.
Because after everything, Seokmin and Joshua were your friends andâfuckâthey were some damn good friends. Your best friends, maybe, if you ever had the liberty to even know what that means.
And it wasnât because they were overly nice, or excessively cheery, or because Seokim was always grinning and Joshua was always smirking, but because when they talked to you, they were talking to you, and not some shell of your past.
Finally, now, when you press your face into your hands as your last attempt to calm yourself down, you feel like you can breathe. Youâre not sure where your head is at, and something tells you that itâs gonna take a damn long time to figure it out.
Youâre a little lost.
You were just trying to get to the South end entrance of the courtyard but you must have taken a wrong turn or something because youâre walking down a corridor youâve quite literally never seen before. Itâs similar to the hallways of the rest of the palace, but itâs slightly taller and a bit more narrow, and the workers walking through wear faces that you arenât familiar with. Youâre a little nervous about where your feet are taking you, and you consider just turning around and retracing your steps when you hear a voice.
Seokminâs voice is loud when he calls your name, and you press your lips together tightly when it rings in your ears. âWhat are you doing here? You usually donât come down to the South eââ he starts to say when walks up to you from a corridor to your left.
âNothing,â you reply briskly, turning on your heel so your back is pretty much facing him. âI was just leaving actually.â
âWhatâhey! Slow down! Whereâre you going?â
â77,â you mutter under your breath as you speed up your pace.
âSlow down!â
You donât relent. âSeokmin, donât you have stuff to do right now instead of following me around?â You canât see the look on his face, but you can only imagine itâs one of defeat.
âIââ his voice is quieter this time, âOkay.â
The footsteps that were one following you die out, and as you browse the corners of your vision, you conclude that heâs finally left you alone. You should feel relievedâhappy that heâs not bothering you nowâbut sometimes uneasy churns inside of you, and you arenât sure what it is.
The rest of your day goes as it usually does in a palace. You tend to your work and as it hits late afternoon, you start making your way to Joshuaâs study. Once again, youâre not sure where your head is at.
âIs everything alright?â Joshua asks you the second you walk in. âSeokmin told me you looked upset and wouldnât talk to him so Iââ
You inhale deeply before, putting your hands up in a stopping motion. âI canât tutor you anymore.â
Joshua looks at you weirdly. âWhat, why?â
âOr talk to you,â you add.
âWhatââ
âJustâjust donât talk to me. Or ask me to tutor you. Or ask for my help, or ask to help meâyou know what just likeâI dunno, stay away from me.â
âSunshine, where is this coming from?â Joshua pinches the bridge of his nose, and you donât think heâs understanding the weight of his words.
âWhy do you even talk to me?â you snap. âLike seriously, if you can bother any worker in the castle, why does it have to be me?â
Hurt flashes in Joshuaâs face for hardly a second before he frowns deeply. âIâwhatâs going on?â
âDo you and Seokmin think this is funny? Being nice to me likeââ You throw your hands in the air. ââlike Iâm some kind of joke?â
âWhat? No, Sunshine, what are you even talking about?â
âI know who Seokminâs dad is.â
âOh.â
âYeah,â you scoff. âSo if Seokmin still wants to know why I donât feel like talking to him, maybe consider telling him that Iâm not interested in being around someone whose father is literally the reason me and my momâs lives have been so fucked up.â
Joshua winces at the last statement. Youâve been irritated with him, annoyed with him, and all that petty stuff, sure, but this is different.
âSeokmin isnât like that, okay? He isnâtâyou knowâlike that.â
âAnd how would you know?â you snap. âPrince Joshua, what do you know about having people be, quote unquote, above you? You have everything in front of you, and when people look at you and Seokmin itâs not âcause of some fucked up scandal which pinned your mom as the kingdomâs slut of the century, itâs âcause they literally bow down to your presence andââ
Something tells you to stop yourself. Maybe itâs the fact that you know youâre not actually angry at them. Maybe itâs the fact that youâre so fucking tired of being angry all the time that you canât take it anymore. Maybe itâs the fact that when you finally look him in the eye, Joshua looks sad.
âIâm sorry,â he finally says meekly. âSeokmin shouldâwe shouldâve let you know earlier. I promise we didnât be your friend just âcause of that,â he rambles. âI mean obviously we knew about it but we didnât wanna bring it up because everyone was bringing it up andâIâm sorry. You know Seokmin isnât like that.â
âAnd you?â you quip, but you know your retorts hold no weight. âHow do I know you arenât likeâlike that.â
Joshua falters and you watch him gulp. He looks tired and his lips are red from how hard heâs been chewing on them as you speak. âY-you know,â his voice is quiet, âYou know Iâm not.â
You have your answer before you even have to think about it, but you pause for a few moments, waiting to respond. All that comes out is a shallow breath as you look down and squeeze your eyes shut. âOkay.â
âOkay?â
âI justââ You sigh weakly. âI donât know. I donât know anymore.â Joshua doesnât respondâhe knows youâre thinking.
You wonder what to do with yourself. Youâre not angry. Not sad either. Uneasy? Maybe. Itâs the uncertainty of it all. You donât understand why youâre not mad, and you donât understand why you want to forgive him so easily, but youâre starting to realize that you should stop trying to understand the things that might never make sense.
Finally, you nod. âItâs fine.â
âSorry again. I guess we didnât wanna make that whole thing all about you. Because like, youâre you, and whatever happened is separate.â
You purse your lips and nod. âThank you.â
âWas that sarcasm?â
You glare at him. âDipshit, no it wasnât!â
âIâm taking this as a sign that youâre feeling better. Am I correct?â
You bite back a smile and shrug. âI guess.â
âCool, âcause I think youâd like to know that my mom stopped by the courtyard the other day.â
âOh yeah? Whatâd she say? This is all for her isnât itâhopefully she liked it.â
âYeah no, she said it was great. She thought the patterns of the pathway were cool and so she asked me if I could figure out why they were designed like that and I said no. By the way, why did you design them like that?â
âThereâs this song I like. Itâs called Isohel, and when I first heard it, I liked it a lot,â you explain. âSearched up what it means and stuff and then a few weeks later I was taking some filler class for the credits and my professor goes on some tangent about god-knows-what, and somehow he brings up pictures of an isohel map. An isohelâitâs basically a line which maps out the places that have the same duration of sunshine. Pretty cool, I think.â
âIs that what the pathways are? Are theyâwhat is itâan isohel?â
âMhm. On an isohel map, theyâre not always just linesâthey come around full circle sometimes so it looks like these funky, squiggly ovals sometimes,â you ramble. âSo I took one of those circle-ish things and broke it up and pieced it together like a pathway.â
âThatâs really smart.â Joshua pauses. âYouâre really smart.â
Itâs not the first time someoneâs told you that. Fuck, itâs not even the first time Joshuaâs told you that, but it feels different now. He means it, you know it in your bones.
âI-I dunno,â you stammer. âI guess. It just relates to the theme of the sun. My mom taught me about it when I was youngerâI loved the sun.â
âSo thatâs what the theme of your courtyard is? Me and Seokmin have been betting on that for ages.â
You scoff, âYou guys bet on that? Seriously, do you have nothing better to do with your time?â
âClearly not!â he shoots back, causing you to laugh. âAre you really feeling better now?â Joshua asks sincerely, and when you smile and nod, he grins. âHey, I just realized you talked to me about your feelingsââ
âDonât mention it,â you snap gruffly, crossing your arms over your chest.
Joshua clicks his tongue and chuckles. âThereâs the Sunshine I know.â
Itâs the next day when you walk into 77. Jihoonâs desk is empty, Mr. Park is just about to leave as you enter and you bow to him quickly as you settle in your desk. Seokmin is in the corner watering the yarrows, seeming to not have noticed you yet.
You watch him closely, smiling softly when you notice he stops before he can overwater them. Quietly, you set your stuff down and Seokmin begins to talk. âOh, Jihoon, Mr. Park was just looking for youâoh,â he cuts himself flat when he turns around and sees you.
Youâre not sure what to do, because Joshua didnât exactly tell you if he told Seokmin about your conversation and what not, but the look on Seokminâs face is telling you that heâs just a little behind on the news.
âHey,â you say casually, throwing a hand up to wave at him as you set your bag down on your desk. Seokmin opens his mouth and then closes it a few times, as if heâs searching for the right words but they donât quite come out for a few moments.
âJoshua told me that, uh, you know thatââ He pauses and glances at you, trying to watch for any hints of anger on your face, but none comes.
âDonât worry about it,â you say with a shrug, and Seokmin has to blink twice because heâs not sure he heard you correctly at all.
âW-what?â
You narrow your eyes at him. âI said donât worry about it,â you state again, and then add more softly, âYouâre not your father. I get it.â You get it more than anyone. âAnyways, did you get the workers to start planting the hyacinths?â
Seokmin shakes his head once to snap himself back into reality and then shakes his head again a second time. âWait no, I meanâwait, yes! I mean yes! I did do thatâI should go remind them to get on that,â he rambles quickly, clearly a little flustered.
You chuckle. âItâs good to see youâve been watering the yarrows properly now. Mr. Park finally beat it into you?â
âY-yeah I guess. Iâve been getting better at remembering them all,â he tells you, starting to fall into a more casual tone. Itâs normal, you think. Nice and normal. Nice and normal and just what you need.
âWhat are you doing here?â
When you turn around with your bag slung over your shoulder, youâre surprised to see Joshua. âUm, working?â
âItâs a Saturday night,â he states, lips pinched together in a funny expression, like he canât figure you out.
âI think I know that,â you chuckle. âI didnât know if I could come in on MondayâI need to stop by the university campus for somethingâso I just came in today to take care of some stuff.â
âYouâre a dedicated worker huh ⊠you should just work here foreverâthe pay is great.â
âMm, Iâm not sure about that,â you say honestly as you look him up and down. It strikes you now that Prince Joshua truly is a handsome man. Dark velvety robes that are even more grand than the ones youâre used to seeing on him, well fit dress pants against his legs and shiny leather shoes that seem to fit his image perfectly. âAnyways, I heard thereâs a ball tonight? Youâre not going?â
Joshua shrugs as he turns around and starts walking, waving you over to follow him. âCâmon follow me.â You contemplate your choices before telling yourself, whatâs the worst that could happen, scurrying on after him. âI leftâit got boring, so I got about twenty-five minutes before someone calls me and asks me to come back. My bets are on it being Seokmin âcause heâll get bored.â
You snort at that as the familiarity of this route starts to sink in. âHey are we going to my âŠâ
âYeah. Seokmin told me you finally got it named, and I want to check it out.â
âUh, yeah,â you murmur bashfullyâyou hadnât expected Joshua to be that interested in it. You walk through the empty corridors to the hallway that has the North entrance of the courtyard, and Joshua cranes his neck up to look at the golden plaque that rests above the entrance.
âSol Invictus, huh.â
You nudge him on the side playfully. âYou know what that means, Mr. Latin Genius?â
âOf course I do,â he retorts with a roll of his eyes. âSun god, or whatever,â
âGod of sun, but you were close enough I guess,â you mutter as you walk through. The courtyard looks different in the night. Itâs nearly done, and as the little warm lights you had placed in intervals along the path light up the scene, you canât help but feel overwhelming pride with how well youâve done.
âCâmon, letâs sit here,â he says, pointing down at the circular patch of grass that surrounds the pond in the middle. Joshua sits down first and you watch him carefully before quickly sitting next to him as well.
The grass is cool under your skin, but as a comfortable silence envelopes you and Joshua, you start to think you really donât mind.
âI think lots of people think Iâm stupid or something,â Joshua finally speaks up, and some uncomfortable feeling boils in your stomach at the words. âYou know, the only thing people usually compliment me on is my fencing, really. And fencing is one of those things that, if youâve been doing it as long as I have, you sort of gotta be good at it.â
âI donât think youâre stupid.â
âI know. Thank you.â Thereâs a silence as he reaches over the stone lining of the hyacinth beds, plucking a few from the shrubs.
âJoshua!â you complain. âI had those planted just last week.â
âItâs fine,â he mumbles, handing the two he plucked to you. You donât hesitate to keep your palms open for him, his fingers brushing over the skin of your arms as he does so. You rub the smooth petals between your fingers and a thumb, bringing one close to your chest before taking the other and handing it back to Joshua.
He looks at you, eyes clearly confused, but holds it to his own chest anyways. With your hands behind you on the ground, you lean back and look up at the sky, letting your shoulders relax. The night air pinches at your skin, but the soft fabric of Joshua tuxedo is warm as it brushes next to you.
âWhyâd you name this pond Eridenus?â Joshua asks, pointing at the plaque by the pebble lining which spells out the word in fancy lettering.
âYou donât know where itâs from?â you sigh, lifting your head so you can shoot him a stern look. Joshua rolls his eyes and nudges your cheek with his shoulder, motioning you to lean back down at him.
âYou know Iâm a rascalâIâm forgetful. Tell me what it means.â
âItâs confirmed: youâre a fake mythology fan. Iâm suing the universe.â Joshua chuckles and pokes you, egging you to go on. âDo you remember the story of Phaethon?â
Joshua hums. âUh, son of Helios. Didnât believe that he was his son. Asked to ride his carriage but lost control and almost burned the Earth?â
You shrug. âWell thatâs most of it I guess. Heâs racing down to the earth and everything is chaosârivers boiling, forests on fires, people turning to ashâand so Zeus throws his bolt at him and kills Phaethon right in the sky.â
âKind of like the story of Icarus. But the opposite I guess. Instead of getting too close to the sun, he brings the sun too close to the earth.â
âYou could put it like that. They have the same meaning, I think. But anyways, Phaethon falls out of the carriage and as he dies he falls into this river called Eridenus.â
âOh.â Joshuaâs voice is quiet as you both watch the gentle water lap back and forth in front of you. The small waves hitting the stone barriers of the pound is the only sound that permeates the night sky, besides your shared breaths and the occasional whistling of wind.
âItâs kind of likeââ You.
âDonât say it.â Joshuaâs words are crisp and short, and he doesnât look at you. You want to say the wordsâIâm sorryâbut they get stuck in your throat and ripple through your limbs as you scoot closer to him.
âAnyways,â Joshua finally says, but the word is only followed with silence.
âI think you need to get back to the ball,â you tell him quietly, lifting your head from his shoulder. Your skin burns from where it was previously pressed against him and you silently chide yourself for letting yourself get so close.
Joshua finally turns to face you, and youâre surprised when he chuckles. âSo eager to get rid of me, Sunshine?â You scoff, pushing him away gently.
âI-I just donât want you to get in trouble!â you stutter as you push yourself off the ground, Joshua following suit.
âAw, so you care about me?â His eyes crinkle up in that familiar way when he says it and you canât help the childish grin that makes its way onto your face.
âMore like I donât want you to complain to me about how you got scolded!â
âMm, sounds a lot like you care about me,â Joshua counters, returning your smile with one of his own. You roll your eyes and carefully skip in your dress toward the exit on the North end of the courtyard.
When you almost trip over your robes, Joshua catches you and his rough palm presses against the small of your back as you regain your balance, the two of you giggling together as he drops you off at 77 before heading to the ballroom.
Itâs almost laughable how happy you are. Silly you for forgetting that fairytales donât happen in real life.
The walls look brighter, the chandeliers that hang from the ceiling seem to glitter a bit more, the ground seems smoother; you enjoy walking through the castle in a way you never thought you could.
Itâs a normal evening and youâre nearing the end of your time at the castle, but you choose to ignore the odd feeling you get when you think too long about leaving this place. Thereâs still more work to get done, and you donât want to spend your time focusing on things that you know will only distract you.
Youâre in the middle of Sol Invictus today, looking through a paper and phone as you go through some old plans and checklists, trying to figure out if there is anything you should do before you pack your bags and head towards Joshuaâs study.
Just as youâre about to unclick your pen and tuck your things away and head back to 77, someone speaks to you from behind.
âA lovely courtyard we have here.â You know this voice. Everyone knows this voice.
Your blood runs cold as you turn around and face the King, neck craning down immediately as you bow down, stepping away while you hold your hands behind your back.
âG-good evening sir,â you stutter, almost tripping over the stone of your own pathways when you stand up and straighten your back. Itâs your first time in years seeing him in person, and you tell yourself as your stomach churns that this was bound to happen at some point.
âCare to tell me about what youâve got going on here?â he asks, walking around the little stone circle that surrounds Eridenus. âYouâre the head of the project, is that right?â
âYes sir,â you reply quickly, bowing again slightly when he finally goes full circle stopping next to you. His hands are behind his back as you watch him look over the almost complete fields of flowers. âIâuhâitâs called Sol Invictus,â you say. âTheââ
âGod of Sun.â
âY-yes sir. Apollo and Helios,â you begin to explain. âWhich is why Iâve used these flowersâtheyâre from one of Apolloâs love stories. Theyâre quite beautiful, if you ask me, and they fit the kingdomâs colors well.â
The King hums in response. âThatâs interesting,â he finally tells you, looking down at Eridenus in front of you. You follow his gaze, staring down at the clear water as you feel your heart rise to your throat in anticipation. You donât really know what you expect, but if you were preparing yourself for anything, it wasnât the King saying, âItâs my understanding that you talk to Prince regularly, is that right?â
Your breath hitches in your throat and lodges there along with your heart. âWell, I wouldnât sayââ
âI was speaking to Mr. Park just yesterday.â Oh. âYou seem to be a very smart, professional young lady, and it shows in your work.â This canât be good. âHowever, I am obligated to remind you: there are boundaries within these walls between the family and its staff.â
âOf course sir. I understand.â
The King watches you carefully, and just when you think he's done, he continues. âThere are guards around the castle at all times. there isn't much they miss, Iâm sure you know.â This isn't good. This really isn't good.
âIt's quite impressive,â you agree, thumbs pressed against each other behind your back. You hear the king take a deep breath, and you wonder if he sucked the air out of you doing so.
"I've heard the pond here is named Eridenus.â
"Y-yes sir."
"Interesting," he murmurs. "Phaeton asked for a bit more than he could handle, didnât he?" the King chuckles but you hardly hear it over the way your heart pounds. "Let mistakes be learned from, alright?"
You feel your knuckle might buckle. Is this how your mother felt? All those years ago?
The Kingâs words arenât nearly as harsh as the advisor who berated your mother, but still, your body swaysâyou canât tell if itâs all in your head with all the thoughts that race through, or if itâs the sheer weight of his words that has you almost stumbling.
âIt was good to meet you. Iâve enjoyed what youâve done with this space,â he comments finally, and you step away to face himÂ
âThe pleasure was mine, sir,â you bid, bowing as he turns and walks back to his assistants who whisk him away. You watch the King fade into the distance and disappear to the North end.
He spoke to you for a reason, and the King was right. You are smart. You are smart and professional, and tonight, you know exactly what you must do.
âWe need to talk,â you state firmly, closing the door behind you in Joshuaâs study. Youâre supposed to tutor him tonight, and he doesnât look up at you as he writes away in his notebook, a smirk making its way onto his face as he starts to speak.
âThatâs all I get, Sunshine? No âhi,â âhello,â âhow are you?ââ he teases, but then he looks up at you and catches the grim look on your face and the sound of him dropping his pen echoes through the room. âWhat is it?â
He stands up so quickly that his chair falls down, but Joshua pays no mind to it, his hands gripping the end of his table as his eyes bore into yours. âWhat is it?â he asks again and this time heâs hissing it. You know he doesnât mean to be harsh, but your heart sinks even further than you could imagine.
âJoshua,â and when you say it, your voice is meek. You shouldnât cry over thisâfuck, you hate crying, especially if itâs because of his people. Youâve done more than enough crying over them in your lifeâyou canât cry over any of this anymore.
âSunshine, whatâs going on? Youâre scaring me,â Joshua eggs you on worriedly, moving away from his desk so he can walk over to you. One hand cups your cheek, and youâre struck by the realization that this is the most intimate heâs ever been with you.
What unfortunate circumstances, you think.
âYour father,â you say, having half a mind to push his hand away from your face, but you keep it there because you donât think youâll have the will to keep on talking if heâs not touching you.
âWhat about him?â Joshua asks hastily, grip on your jaw tightening.
âHe knows, Joshua, he knows.â
âWhat are you talking about?â Joshua furrows his eyebrows and asks the question but thereâs that voice in his head telling him that he already knows the answer.
âA guard saw us at the courtyard andââ
âWe didnât even do anything,â Joshua tries to protest and with just one look at his face, you can tell heâs trying to figure out ways to rebut whatever that stupid guard saw that night.
âJoshua, you know we canât do anything about this,â you say exasperatedly, your voice a little louder now that you clutch the elbow of his arm thatâs holding your face. âI overheard him talking to Mr. Park.â
Joshuaâs eyes widen. âMr. Park knows? What about your job? Are you going to get to finish the project? Are youââ
âJoshua,â you choke out, and for once you cannot stop your tears. âI donât care about my goddamn project, I care about you.â
âYou love that courtyard,â Joshua argues, and you wince at the way heâs still thinking about that damn courtyard. You brush his hand off of you and for a second it looks like his heart has just broken in two, but then you reach for his face and hold his cheeks with your own two hands.
His skin is smooth and supple with the light grain of stubble that itches against your palm near the underside of your jaw. âJoshua,â you whisper, and itâs now that you feel the warm drops of water hit your skin. Joshua is crying and you donât think youâve seen anything that saddens you more. âDonât cry, please donât cry,â you beg, fruitlessly wiping away his tears as he silently cries into your hands.
âWhyâre you acting like this is the end?â he hiccups and he must hate the sound because he slaps a hand over his mouth and buries his face into it.
âJoshua, no,â you murmur and pull him into you so that his hands can fall and you can cradle his head into your neck, letting your own tears drip onto the silk of his shirt. âItâs not the end,â you try to reason, but he pulls his head away to look down at you with glassy eyes.
âYouâyouâre lying to me,â Joshua says harshly.
âWhat are you talking about, I donâtââ
âI know you. I-IâfuckâI fucking know you,â he spits out, causing you to falter backwards. âWhy do you think we canât work this out? Iâm the prince, I canâI can change everything and we can be togetherââ
âYour father ââ
âWho gives a fuck, Iâll be king soon anyways andââ
âWhat if he does something?! What if he revokes your title?â
Youâre met with stillness and you think Joshua might just comply with your silent plan but suddenly heâs shaking his head vigorously.
âOkay, then let him. I donât care about being prince, Iââ
âYou canât throw your life away Joshua, not for me!â you protest, holding his face again so you can focus his gaze on yours.
âItâs my lifeâwhy, why not?â
âBecause I love you. And you canât sacrifice thisâthis amazing lifeâfor me!â
âI-I canâtâI donât,â he stumbles and searches for words as tears fall from his lashes and roll down your hands, your wrists, your arms, ââcanât do it, not without you.â
âYouâve been doing it for years, Joshua, youâll learn,â you tell him, using one hand to grip his cheek, the other to wipe away at your own.
âYou donât love me,â he chokes out. âYouâyou wouldnât do this to me if you loved me.â
âDonât say that, please.â You press your forehead against his and close your eyes because you canât bear to look at his tear-streaked cheeks any longer. Itâs quiet for a moment, and you canât help but think that this is the calm before the storm.
âWeâll work it out,â Joshua finally whispers, pulling his head back and cradling the back of your neck with his hands. You donât say anything, and Joshua doesnât give you the chance anyway. âLet me have you,â he begs. âWeâll work everything out and itâll be okay,â he says over a strangled sob, âJustâjust be with me tonight.â
And so when you nod, he wipes his tears and pokes his head out of the study to make sure the corridor is empty before tugging your wrist and pulling you to his room. Itâs big and grand, just as youâd expect for the prince but Joshua doesnât want you to look at the intricate walls or the tall ceilings or the golden furniture.
Joshua makes you focus on his burning touch and lets you explore his mouth, his body. And stripped, your bodies are so hot and with wet lips against sheen skin, you feel you might melt into each otherâs bones.
Teeth against teeth, nails scraping against skin so hard it digs into the muscle, bruising holds, and sloppy kissesâthe feeling is so intense and it crashes onto you and Joshua so hard that you have no other choice but to grip onto each other as you would a lifeline.
And your bodies move so languidly through the sheets, like waves against a shore, or like the wind whistling through the air, until you're trembling and drifting off in each othersâ arms.
It would have been perfect. Perfect, if only Joshua had woken up and you were next to him.
Joshua is lost.
After a frantic hour of running around the palace, asking if anyone had seen you, looking for Seokmin to see if he had any answers, Joshua finds himself in the middle of Sol Invictus. And he racks his brain for answers, for a smidge of anything that gives him a reasonable explanation as to why you werenât in his arms this morning.
Joshua is lost.
Heâs staring at the ground now, and all Joshua can wonder is if it was all a dream. If that moment you both looked out his glass window at the stars before you kissed him on his bed was just a figment of his imagination.
He wonders if you actually did thread your soft fingers through his messy hair and hold him close as both hit your peaks together, and he wonders if your lips really did ghost over his skin as he drifted off into sleep.
Joshua almost doesnât feel Advisor Leeâs hand on his shoulder. He only hears his voice, really, and when he does, the sound grates against his ears.
âSheâs gone.â Advisor Leeâs voice has always been harsh, and Joshua wonders how the same man couldâve produced somethingâsomeoneâas lovely as Seokmin.
âWhat are you talking about?â Joshua is good at feigning ignorance, but his voice still quivers.
âI know. Your father and mother know too.â
Joshua is lost.
Joshuaâs eyes snap up and suddenly his hands are at Advisor Leeâs collar. When the older man doesnât seem surprised, Joshua sags. âWhat the fuck do you know. Whatââ He inhales sharply as he lets go and steps back, inching closer to Eridenus. ââwhat did you do to her?â
âShe left herself.â
âWhat areââ Joshua heaves. âWhat?â
Heâs doing it before he even realizes it. Stumbling toward Eridenus with his lungs and heart mushed together so tight heâs got a hole in his chest, Joshua steps over the stone lining and crashes into the shallow water.
Seokminâs face pales when he walks in on the scene. Coming into the courtyard from the South end, he sees Joshuaâs figure before he even recognizes itâs him.
Thatâs not Joshua, he thinks as he watches his father stand in front of Eridenus where the prince sits. Thatâs not Joshua.
Joshuaâs shoulders are always sharp and his eyes are bright. Joshuaâs smile is full and his hands are always ready to love.
This isnât Joshua, and Seokmin feels it in his gut when he approaches Eridenus.
Joshua sits in the middle of the pond. His knees are bent and the cold water stops at the middle of his chest, leaving the upper third of his body dry. His royal coat and velvet pants, his polished shoes and silk button up, are submerged and rub against the algae coated rocks on the bottom of Eridenus.
Advisor Lee doesnât speak as Seokmin stands next to him, Eridenus in front of the two with the prince in the middle. Joshua doesnât say a thing. In fact, it seems like he doesnât even know Seokmin is here now. His neck is tilted down and he stares at his soaked slacks blankly.
Seokmin is stunned.
This canât be Joshua, because Joshuaâs shoulders are always sharp but now they are hunched over and hardly moving, even as he breathes short breaths through his pale lips.
This canât be Joshua, because Joshuaâs eyes are always bright but now they are dull and dead. Seokmin knows Joshuaâs eyes are always bright, but he failed to realize what exactly it was that was lighting them up.
Seokmin thought it was the sun but he was wrong, because even now, as Joshua sits under broad daylight, he is still and his eyes are dull.
Two weeks since youâve seen Joshuaâs face and you miss his smile.
You miss his smile, the one that crinkles up all the way to his eyes when he laughs at one of your snarky comments. The one that shines his teeth and the one that seemed to never leave your sight when you were with him.
You miss his smile, but his laugh still rings in your ear, early in the mornings when you blink awake and late in the nights when you gasp in hearty breaths and try not to cry. When you take the walk through the city to your work at Mr. Minâs bookshop, the ringing of the street vendorsâ bells are bright and cheery, and sometimes you can hear Joshuaâs laugh in the mix.
One month since Joshua last looked you in the eye and he wishes he didnât know why you left. He wishes he was oblivious, because then he could be angry at youâhe could have a reason to forget, to move on, to stop loving you.
Joshua knows why you left and it hurts more than anything because this is nothing like a betrayal at all. You left because you love him, and Joshua cannot dispute thatânot now, not ever.
Sometimes he walks through Sol Invictus and plucks a hyacinth, letting it blow off into the wind. He hopes youâll find the lost petals one day.
Two months since youâve been in the castle and your life is normal. Well, as normal as it can get for you.
Your first semester of the new year started a few days ago, and youâve since moved into an apartment near your campus. Your mother thinks itâll be good for you, and you understand her sentiment but you donât think she understands.
Ironic, you think. Youâve gone full circle, really. Maybe it does run in your blood, like all the whispers said.
You realize youâre okay with that. Maybe you made a mistake with Joshua, maybe you didnât. Maybe you almost royally fucked up your reputation more than it already was (thankfully, the Royal Counsel was better at keeping it under the wraps this time), maybe no one cares. Maybe your life is a little bit more messed up now, but againâyouâre okay with that.
You miss Joshua. You donât think youâll ever stop missing him. Youâre also okay with that. Youâre starting to realize that youâre okay with pretty much anything when it comes to Joshua. And once again, youâre okay with that.
Six months since heâs seen you and Joshuaâs chest aches. Partly because he was distracted during fencing and took a jab straight in the middle but mostly because he misses you.
He stands on the balcony of the royal dining hall, waiting for lunch to be served as he looks over the palace and the kingdom that spread beyond. Joshua sees the tall buildings, the rows of houses, and the infamous Hong University that lay in the middle of the commontown around the hill the castle sits on, and he wonders.
You told him youâd be taking an astronomy class this semester, which should have started a month ago. Joshua is old enough and smart enough to know that collegiate astronomy is more than just the moon and the sun and the pretty little dots that button the sky, but still, he wonders.
The sun and its sunlight, rotations and revolutions.
Will you think about him?
Joshua doesnât need to wonderâhe knows.
The sun is bright today and even though itâs winter, the clouds are nowhere to be seen. Itâs a bit of a rare occurrence for the cold months, but Joshua doesnât mind. When he looks at the blue sky and briefly glances at the sun, his shadow on the stone floor, the reflection of light against the railing, Joshua breathes in the chilly air, filling his lungs deeply.
He knows.
Eight months and you still hear Joshuaâs laugh.
You hear it when wind whistles in your ear as you walk to a flower shop to buy a pot. You hear it when you look up at the sun and imagine youâre in the middle of Sol Invictus. You hear it when you crouch down on your balcony, placing the little hyacinth into the pot and packing soil around the base.
You miss Joshua, you miss his smile, and more than anything, you miss his laugh. Right now, as you bathe in the memories of a man so far yet so close, you realize that you can miss him all you want, but you wonât forget. You canât ever forget.
Ten months later and Joshuaâs chest still aches, but heâs okay with that.
He sucks in heavy breaths as his lungs search for air on the fencing match, his trainer leaving the room, leaving Joshua after his request to take a break. Through the rush of blood in his ears, Joshua hardly hears the door behind him open.
âMingyu told me youâve been struggling with fencing recently,â his mother says, approaching him. Joshua shuffles in his fencing gear, throwing his helmet to the side.
âIâve just hit a stump.â
âSomething tells me this is more than just a stump,â she inquires as Joshua kicks off his boots.
Joshua scoffs, âWhat makes you say that?â
âJoshua, whatâs wrong?â
He pauses, about to pull off his gloves when he looks up at the Queen. âEveryone in the Royal Counsel knows. Iâm sure you know too.â
His mother sighs heavily when he stands up, and she follows him out the training room and toward the Residency Quart. Thereâs a silence that gaps the mother and sonânot that Joshua isnât used to it. He still smiles and grins, he hugs and he bows, and oftentimes it is genuine, but thereâs a silence that always follows. A silence that he never forgets.
A silence he holds when he watches the same kitten you held cross his path when he walks through Sol Invictus, slightly bigger but just as nimble and heart warming. A silence he holds when his eyes gloss over the set of Percy Jackson books in the shelves of his room. A silence he holds when he sinks into his covers and presses his nose to the sheets, wondering if heâll ever be able to taste your skin on his tongue again.
âI wonât ever understand what went on between you two,â his mother finally says.
âThere isnât anything for you to understand,â Joshua tells her, heading towards his room, but his mother stops him and he narrows his eyes. âWhat? I felt bad for her, alright? When I saw her all those years ago when it all happened out in the gardensââ
âJoshua, what are you talking about?â
âThatâs what you want to know, right? Why I talked to her? Why IâI love her?â His mother gives him a stern look, but Joshua doesnât relent. Heâs starting to realize heâs been too comfortable with this silence. âI never asked you to understand it, but Iâll tell you anyway. Maybe because I pitied her or felt sorry for her or all the same stuff, and maybe I didnât think she deserved to be ostracized for something she never did butâwhatever. Iâm not asking you to understand, but I am asking you to leave it alone.â
âYouâre my son, Joshua.â
The Queen is Joshuaâs mother and she doesnât understand. She may never understand, and Joshua is okay with that because if heâs being honest, he doesn't think anyone will ever understand. Heâs okay with that too.
You will understand, and for him, thatâs enough.
You get two letters from the Royal Counsel in your lifetime. You received the first over a year agoâthe one you opened with Mr. Min standing across from you in his little bookstore under dingy lights and over the dusty counter. The one you crumpled up and tossed into the dustbin without as much as a second though. The one that led you down a long, winding path which brought you to Joshua.
You receive the second now, standing in your apartment as you look down, except this time you arenât staring at a paper, youâre staring at the screen of your laptop. You giggle quietly to yourself; Joshua must have taken the Royal Counsel up on still sending letters.
Youâve only looked at the subject of the email so far. Itâs got your name and the word ârequestâ written in bold, and you wonder what they want.
Glossing over the text, a wave of nostalgia washes over you. âThe Hong Royal Counsel wishes to find you well, as we present a request.â Same shit, huh? âYou will have the opportunity to lead a project as you please and earn a notable compensation in payment for your efforts.â Yeah, pretty much.
Itâs the same thing, you realize. They want you backâfor what, you arenât sure, but you have a feeling that it doesnât really matter. Because signed, at the bottom of the email isnât the usual, âHong Royal Counsel,â but instead is, âHong Royal Family.â
The little sun emblem sits below the signatures of the King and Queen, and you press your eyes shut and hold the screen close to your chest, silently praying under your breath that is not a dream.
You donât know what happened, donât know what Joshua told them, but to be frank, you donât care. Youâre smart enough to read between the lines.
I donât understand, they're telling you, But that doesnât mean I canât try.
Itâs your first day at the castle. Well, your second first day.
When you park your car at the base of the hill, you smile down at the silk over your waist. You abandoned the new ribbon sent to you by the Court, instead donning the one that came to you in a little white box ten months ago. Sometimes, when you hold it close enough, you still think you can smell Joshuaâs skin.
You wonder how long youâll have to wait for him, but as you look up at the sky, you have your answer.
Something speaks to you when you return to 77. Mr. Park is still gruff and cranky but you swear you see the peek-a-boo of a smile on his lips when you walk in. Jihoonâs there too, he greets you regularly.
And of course thereâs Seokmin who is hugging you so tight, it reminds you that he is a full grown man and not a child trapped in a large body. You think he almost cries when he laughs with you about how he almost killed the yarrows again (but he brought them back to life! Trust!), and then he beams and tells you that you gotta check out Sol Invictus.
Itâs beautiful.
Bright hyacinths that line from east to west and your heart is happy because Seokmin told you heâd get everyone to finish planting them and he did. The purple petals let wind whistle through its stems and leaves, the rustling echoing off the walls of the castle that surround Sol Invictus.
The water of Eridenus gleams under the sun, the stone of your pathways glows brightly, and as your eyes flicker around, you notice something new. In each corner field of Sol Invictus, sits a medium sized sculpture, each of a pegasus but all slightly different in pose and manner.
And then you see him, his back facing you, standing in front of one of the statues that sits in one of the fields on the west end.
Walk the line.
Tracing the pathwaysâyour pathwayâfrom East to West with your shoes clacking their short heels against the tilesâyou know he can hear you, but still, he doesnât move. His hands are neatly holding each other behind his back as his neck tilts slightly upward to stare up at the pegasus.
âAethon, Aeos, Pyrois, and Phlegon,â Joshua says when you finally stop next to him, shoulders barely brushing against each other. âThis one is Pyrois.â
âHeliosâ pegasi,â you murmur, glossing over the fine details and intricacies of the statue.
âI thought you might like them.â
You donât say anything for a moment and grin, watching his eyes light up from the corner of your vision. âI love them.â
âThank god. You were taking so long to respond, I thought you were going to yell at me for fucking up Sol Invictus.â
You laugh and shake your head, both of you shuffling as you face each other.
âHi,â you say so lightly it comes out as a breathy laugh when you both finally look each other in the eye.
âSunshine.â Joshua smiles, holding out his hand. The light is warm when it hits your skin, and Joshuaâs dark hair glints a light brown under the beams. You take his hand and run your fingers over the calluses of his palm; his skin is warm when his fingers grasp around yours and as you look at his eyes, you feel it in your bones.
This is Joshua, this is Joshua, and every path you follow will always lead you back to him.
find an alternate ending here!
edit. thanks 4 making it this far! if ur interested i expand on the concept of an isohel more here and little tidbits here, and it's honestly just a ramble but i hope it makes clear why i made some decisions w the story if ur interested :3
a/n. aaah it's done! as per em's request, i will be posting a one-shot of these two and their lives in the future bc i feel like i robbed u guys of a possibly fluffier ending so keep an eye out for that ... anyways, i hope u enjoyed, comments / reblogs would mean the world to me and >_< thank u for reading!
taglist. @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @todorokiskitten @98-0603 @hipsdofangirl @minnie-mouser22 @minhui896 @whippedforjihoon @nishloves @woozarts (strikethrough could not be tagged)
2K notes
·
View notes
my sp story <3
hi besties! if you've been following my blog for a while you know that i've been single for a while, partly because i like to be independent and single, and partly because i just didn't like anyone. obviously i could just manifest a guy out of thin air, but when im not confronted face to face with a crush then i just don't care about being in a relationship so i never manifested someone out of thin air lol
but then a couple of weeks ago i was at the movies with my friends, and there were couples cuddling around us and i was like "aw :( kinda wish i had a bf now." and what do we do when we feel any type of desire? we immediately fulfill ourselves, no matter how "small" the desire is! so that's what i did. i imagined for like two seconds that i was cuddling with a boy at the theaters, and then i got distracted by the movie and forgot all about it
then like 15 minutes later, a guy that i'd had a crush on four years ago randomly slid into my dms. i never pursued him four years ago bc my bff at the time had dibs on him, but we're not friends anym and haven't been for years so it was my time to shine!!!
anyway, we talk for like a week. i know this guy is funny and shit bc of when we hung out irl, but like all he's sending me are unfunny memes that don't really warrant a response. so it was kinda tough
and this is the part where you guys are going to yell at me!!! i was like oh i should use my manifestation skills and make sure this goes smoothly....but then i was like nah im just gonna go with the flow đđđ and i know you guys are like REM!!!! u manifest EVERYTHING u can't just turn it off!!!! anyway.....long story short a week into us talking this mf randomly blocks me!!!!
so im instantly like đđ damn fine i'll manifest him back bc im stubborn and do not like being told no in my reality
so how did i do it? how did i manifest him back?
if you guys have followed me for a while, you know that i manifested an sp a couple years ago by simply affirming "i love [his name] so much" any time i'd think of him and this would conjure the feeling of the wish fulfilled. (NOT mindless affirming. i'd say it maybe two or three times to catch the feeling and then move on)
ANYWAY so that's what i did! and let me tell you....i was not "perfect" by any means đ in fact this manifestation really kinda opened my eyes on how EASY manifestation truly is. like i already knew how easy it was, but damn!
if you know that your desire is promised and that it is coming because you gave it to yourself in imagination (even ONCE) ... there is NOTHING that will stop it. i was gonna make a separate post on this and i tried but i just couldn't articulate it correctly so im going to try again:
it took 12 days to manifest him to unblock me and message me. im sure it would've taken a shorter amount of time if i was more disciplined with myself but it's kinda crazy bc of how UNdisciplined i was đ tbh i was just kinda like...unsure if i even wanted to manifest him at all bc thats how much i value my alone time and my independence lol
anyway, i always get asks from people who are stressed and anxious bc they think that in order to manifest your desire, you can never enter the state of lack ever again and that dwelling in negative thoughts will "ruin" your manifestations. but i am here to tell you IT DOES NOT MATTER!!! you do not need to be "perfect"!!!! as long as you are staying faithful to the idea that you have your desire in the 4d, it'll manifest in the 3d.
another thing i see so many people confused and stressed about is whether or not they're naturally thinking from the state. for instance, every time you think of your sp, you think from the end of being in a relationship with them, before you think of the fact that you're not together yet. and let me tell you....while this CAN happen, it's not always gonna happen and it's not necessary. let me tell you, the DAY before my sp reached out, and even the day that he did....i would catch myself thinking about how we weren't together! but the gag is....YOUR THOUGHTS DON'T MANIFEST!!!! yes, they indicate what state you're in, but the actual thoughts themselves don't mean shit!!! they don't manifest. they just don't!
so i'd shift back to the state of being my sp's girlfriend when i'd have these thoughts, but i was fully aware we were not together in my 3d and i never naturally thought of us as being together before i saw any evidence of it in my 3d. all i had was the knowing that my inner man was with my sp, and that since i'd decided i had it in imagination, it would push out into my 3d. because that's how the law works!!! and honestly, that's all you really need. you just need to know that since you gave yourself your desire in your imagination ONE TIME, it WILL manifest. and if you have a true understanding of how the law works and you've read source, you will have no trouble knowing that it will come.
you also do NOT need to be in the state of the wish fulfilled 24/7!!! at all!!!! i cannot stress this enough. and tbh i used to feel the same. i felt like i had to be aware of having my desire in imagination 24/7 or else it wouldn't come. i thought i couldn't perceive the lack or opposite in my 3d or else it wouldn't manifest (see this post about dismissing the 3d btw if u need help with that). but the gods honest truth is that all you need to do is DECIDE you have your desire in imagination & not take no for an answer & KNOW that your desire is GOING TO REFLECT IN YOUR 3D NO MATTER WHAT!!!!
and that's not to say that you wont still get anxious and have intrusive thoughts and be like "oh god what if it never manifests." like... im human and i had those human moments. but i just reminded myself that i know the law and ive proven it to myself many times and i know that it had to manifest.
anyway. back to my sp story!
so for these 12 days that im blocked (lmfao) all i did was affirm "i love [his name] so much" whenever i thought of him until i caught the feeling of the wish fulfilled. that's it. and i knew for a fact that he was mine in the 4d and therefore we'd be together in the 3d bc that's the law!
anyway on friday (5 days ago) at 8pm? im scrolling thru the ulta app and then im like "oh i havent fulfilled myself today i dont think" so i fulfilled myself for like 2 seconds and then get distracted by some product and then two minutes later i get a notif that this guy followed me and then dmed me đ
it's funny cuz my irls don't know about the law of assumption so i sent them a screenshot and i was like "look who came crawling back" and they were like BOOOOO!!! and i was like no guys!!!!! i created the blocking and i created this like i promise we can trust him đđ hahahaha
anyway. let me tell you. if you are manifesting an sp, DO NOT DO THAT SHIT IN STEPS!!!!! i mean, if you really want to, i can't stop you, but i really don't recommend it.
with my old sp (the one from two years ago) i'd always manifest contact and then get it, and then he'd ghost me and and id have to manifest contact again and it'd be a never ending cycle!!! bc i was just focusing on contact, not on how i felt or how he felt about me.
the reason i loveeee to affirm "i love my sp so much" INSTEAD OF "HE loves ME so much" is because it helps me catch the feeling of the wish fulfilled so much more. not only that, but because remember, THERE IS NO ONE TO CHANGE BUT SELF!!!! changing the way i see my sp and the way i feel about him is all i need to do. im not trying to change him and make him love me lol. this is about me and my inner reality, not him! he'll reflect whatever i am in the 4d
another reason i love affirming this is because TO ME, this is what implies we are already together. whenever im in a relationship, i always find myself laying around all giddy thinking about how obsessed with my bf i am and how i love him so much. so i emulate that when im manifesting an sp.
and it's PERFECT because by jumping straight to the end where we're already together, i don't have to focus on all the things that lead to us being in a relationship. i don't have to manifest him following me, or texting me, or asking me on a date. these things all just happen naturally bc im living in the end.
NOT TO MENTION, it naturally turns your sp into your perfect partner? like remember when i said when we were talking before he blocked me he was kinda dry and he'd just send memes that i didn't find funny? THIS DUDE DID A COMPLETE 180!!!
he's sooo funny, he is the OPPOSITE of dry, he is everything???? and im obsessed.
anyway he unblocked me and dmed me, and then asked for my number and we had such funny and cute convos and then boom 4 days later he asks me on a date and i say no (đđđđ i was busy) but i agreed to go on a date the next day and the way this boy showed pure unencumbered excitement đ„ș im obsessed
anyway im sorry this is so long? i really just wanted to share how all i did was apply what i've been preaching about on this blog for years and it worked out flawlessly! hopefully this gives you guys some good tips and maybe motivation? <3
779 notes
·
View notes
Hey babes. I loved your series and Iâm wondering if you can do a
PAIGE X FEM!READER headcannons where yall live far away from each other and you suprise her at a game?
THANK U SMM UR SO SWEET!!! iâm sorry this is so short đđ
first of all ââ we all know paige is already dramatic asfâŠso naturally, she already misses you all the time. like you could be sitting right next to her but still sheâd look at you with a cute little pout like âi miss youâ
and youâd be like âiâm sitting right next to you?âÂ
but sheâs just not having it cause if youâre not touching her sheâll be like âyou arenât close enoughđ€šâ
so god forbid thereâs actually distance between the two of you
sheâd call you any chance she got and text you pretty much any time sheâs on her phone
and you promise to watch all her games on tv which never fails to make her fr giggleÂ
literally look at her phone like thisÂ
the girls are starting to grow tired of hearing your name đŹ
cause paige brings you up all the time
âif my girl was here sheâd __â
âsheâd like thisâ
âi miss herâ
âi get to see her in a weekâ
and theyâd be like âbro we get it đâ
she doesnât stop though
she just misses youâŠyour touch, your voice, your smell
she misses just being around you and doing absolutely nothing but still spending time together
sheâs counting down the days until she gets to see you again
so imagine her shock when she sees youâŠat her gameâŠa week before she was even supposed to see you again
she literally does a double take, her eyes widening as she blinks a few times to see if her mind is playing tricks on her
but you were fr sitting there, in her jersey, smiling widely and waving when you catch her eye
her heart drops and she just wishes she could run to you but the game is starting
she plays her ass off, naturally trying to make you proud (plus sheâs got all that extra motivation from seeing you)
once the game is over (they won obviously) sheâs dodging interviewers until she gets to you
she hugs you so tight while you express words of praise for how well she played
she can barely hear you over the sounds in the gym but she can feel you and that alone is enough to make her smile widely
âiâm so glad youâre here, i missed you so much, you look so pretty, i love you so muchâ just a bunch of rambling especially since sheâs still high off adrenaline from playing
you just chuckle at how fast sheâs talking and you kiss her softly
âi missed you tooâ
336 notes
·
View notes
toxic ex rafe would pick you up from a bad date no matter how pissed he was at you bc at the end of the day nobody can make you cry but him duh đ he had ur best interests at heart not them! - đ°
heâs not that toxic really in this but i couldnât help myself
đ«§đŠąđȘ.âĄâ ËïœĄâàšà§Ë
heâs already rambling as he shows up, rolling his window down as he pulls up into the parking space next to where you stand. âwhat, this guy doesnât drive or what? who fuckinâ⊠leaves a girl outside the restaurant âstead of driving her home? jesus, this guys got no game.â he complains, all huffy and pissed off because why are you going on dates when you should be with him?
ââsaid he had somewhere to be.â you mumble, humiliated as you climb into his passenger seat, fumbling for the seatbelt. when you canât do it, he sighs and reaches overâ pulling it across your body and plugging it in.
âyeah, real charming guy. i can imagine.â he shakes his head, turning to look out the back window as he reverses to turn the car around, an arm on the back of your seat. to this day the action still makes your stomach go funny.
he drives away, and for a moment thereâs silence, just filled by the rumbling of the car and your pathetic sniffles.
âsorry for calling you. i know itâs not idealââ
he waves you off with a lazy hand, eyes fluttering in irritation at himself for being so whipped.
âits fineâ iâ couldnât just leave you there. sâdangerous.â he licks his lips thoughtfully before his eyes glance over at you. âwhat happened anyway? whyâre you cryinâ over that nobody?â his nose twitches in disgust.
âyou donât even know who it was, rafe.â you wipe your eyes on the backs of your hands, refusing to look his way. he scoffs, a victorious if not slightly malicious smile on his face.
âyou think people at the country club donât talk? âcourse i do.â
another silence passes, because youâre frustrated.
âhe was just so⊠rude. iâve never been spoken to like that before⊠just made me feel like nothing on our first date. it was horrible.â your lip wobbles and he sighs.
âwhy are you taking anything that freak says seriously, huh? shouldâa known you were too good for him from the start. now his ego is boosted nâ heâs trynâa humble you. i know how guys work, baby.â the nickname slips out on instinct and you almost wince. moving on from rafe has been hard, because as problematic as he is â he feels like home, and after the day youâve had you want nothing more than to backslide and let him scoop you up in his arms and make it better. you sniff, a gentle smile gracing your features as he pulls into your drive.
âso wise of you, what happened?â you joke as he stops the car, head turning to glance at you but getting caught in your gaze, unable to tear his eyes away from your beauty.
âits called maturing, alright? became a man.â he tries to sound nonchalant, but even then its clear heâs trying to prove himself as better. you nod before reaching for the door handle.
âthanks for the ride, rafe. i appreciate it.â
âyeah.â he blinks, not looking at you. you climb out the car, shutting the door and as you begin to walk away, he winds the passenger window down once more, leaning over to speak out of it. âwhâ hey.â
you turn around, tilting your head curiously. âcut that guy off. i mean it.â he raises his eyebrows and you nod, still naturally obedient towards him which makes his chest clench.
a week later, you spot your date at the beach with a big black ring around his eye. you wonder where it came from.
đ«§đŠąđȘ.âĄâ ËïœĄâàšà§Ë
414 notes
·
View notes
melodrama
charles leclerc x musical theatre actress!reader, social media!au
summary a melodrama is defined as a dramatic piece with exaggerated characters and plot-lines that play to the audienceâs emotions. when charles leclerc dates a queen of drama, there is bound to be some that seeps into his life.
notes yes, the title was from the lorde album. warning, google translated french
the anniversary posts
yourusername
Liked by lilymhe and 582.382 others
yourusername mon amour â€ïž i never couldâve imagined that i would spend 5 years with you⊠and i never imagined that i could find someone so amazing, who could make me feel like the most spectacular person in the world, the most special girl, yet also remind me of how human i am and how iâm allowed to be only human. you always manage to whisk me away from the pressures of life, push everything away, and make it feel like itâs just us in this world. you, my darling, are the comfort and calm of my soul. with you forever by my side, i can face anything
view 366 replies
12 March 2023
arthur_leclerc i can't believe it's been 5 years since you two started being publicly insufferable
‷ charles_leclerc nous t'aimons aussi, arthur đđđ (we love you, too, arthur)
carmenmmundt congrats on 5 years and cheers to many more!!
‷ yourusername thank you love! â€ïž
f1wagsite the caption is too sweet im jealous
‷ ynfans2023 literally their relationship makes me wanna go in the bathtub with my hairdryer
charles_leclerc
Liked by alex_albon and 906.438 others
charles_leclerc always the light on my darkest days, my sunshine when it rains, melting away all my worries and doubts, always bringing me up from the lowest of low points. you are my courage and strength. you shine so brightly that you light up everything around you, including myself. you bring out the best in me and love even the worst. you give warmth to the deepest corners of my soul. with you, iâm the best and most natural version of myself. these 5 years together have been the best years of my life, i wish i had met you sooner. even eternity isnât enough to be with you, mon Ă©toile â€ïž
view 523 replies
12 March 2023
lewishamilton congratulations guys â€ïž
pierregasly congrats on 5! so where's the ring mate? đđ
‷ alexalbon seconding this đđ
‷ hamilfans pierre?? ALEX?? do they know something we don't or are they playing??
valenciacia the caption??? ME WHENNN đđđđđ
‷ f1girliee RIGHTT like "even eternity isn't enough to be with you"???? i'm going crazy.
‷ leclercwdc i'm about to go take a bath with my toaster rn
charles_leclerc posted âą 8/2/2023 | yourusername posted âą 2/3/2023
charles_leclerc
Liked by pierregasly and 867.338 others
charles_leclerc my favourite actress â€ïž unbelievably proud of you, mon cherie @yourusername.
to be blessed with the love of such a hard-working, talented actress is an honour. you performed amazingly tonight and every other night before.
11 February 2023
view 406 comments
yourusername charlie you are such a sap (i love you so much)
‷ charles_leclerc only for you darling (i love you more)
itsnessa they make me believe in love
‷ loveleclerc real i don't know what i would do if they broke up
‷ wdcleclerc i think i would lose hope in love
44britcedes my fav couple đ«¶đ«¶đ«¶
yourusername
Liked by charles_leclerc and 724.198 others
yourusername all's well that ends well
3 May 2023
view 698 comments
myagramm is the ring on yn's finger a new addition orrrr
‷ pierregasly i guess we found where the ring is
‷ leclercism beating the breakup allegations with marriage allegations. only them.
‷ myagramm PIERRE?? HELLO???
httpsainz is that ring what i think it is
solarpiastri im actually crying they rlly said fuck the break up rumours and decided to start up engagement rumours instead
a/n: might make a part 2 if i feel like it in like 5 months
923 notes
·
View notes
The landing | joel miller x f!reader, 13.2k
Summary: You feel him before you see him. Heâs still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you.
Or
The one where your orbits finally collide for the final showdown.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, NO SPOILER (read A/N), ANGST, cheater!joel, discussions of infidelity, mention of food consumption, yelling, crying, the briefest mention of smut thoughts, sprinkle of fluff (blink and you'll miss it), as always let me know if I missed anything đ
A/N: Ok, *deep breath* I know I can't make everyone happy unless I write alternate endings đ
and I understand that infidelity can be a very triggering concept. I gave them the ending I felt they both deserved, but if you're looking for a story where they are at each other's throats for 13k words, maybe this is not for you and you are more than welcome to kindly move on.
I won't spoil the ending in the Warnings, so proceed with caution, you know what the main theme is all about. All I can tell you is that this part of the story is divided into two main scenes because I didn't want to drag it out with one little scene after another. *she says after spilling 13k wordsđsorry about thatđ*
As always, I would love to read your thoughts on the last part and please keep in mind that writing is almost always self-indulgent.
P.S. I want to thank each and every one of you for the love I received for this mini-series, I never thought it would engage so many people. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You've all been so kind and sweet to me, so this journey filled my heart with joy!
I love you all, take care of yourselves and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments!
Oh! My asks are always open if you want to know more about their story. I could even write drabbles or one-shots about anything you'd like to know in particular. Ily, bye đ
P.S. I deliberately left the last two lines without clarification of who says what, I leave that up to you. đ€
Dividers by @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics @plum98
previous |
FOUR YEARS AFTER THE FALL
Are you still falling?
Youâre not sure anymore. Maybe youâre just used to it. Or maybe you just learned how to fly. It certainly feels like everything has slowed down. Sometimes it feels like floating. As if youâre a feather, so lightweight, swirling around aimlessly. But you can never touch the ground. Gravity canât quite pull you down. Every time you feel like youâre finally landing, a force of nature pulls you back up.
Maybe it is a soft, warm, summer breeze, a memory of Joel.
Maybe it is a whirlwind, a contact from the lawyers.
Maybe it is a snowstorm, sign the papers, please.
Maybe it is the whispering of a gentle wind, the possibilities of what might have been, or the lack of real closure.
But itâs nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.
You never thought youâd enjoy leaving the big city and making a home for yourself on a ranch. But you loved it. You loved the peace and quiet, you loved this new community of people, you loved taking care of the horses, riding them, being around them. And then there was the house. A place you could almost call home. It was beautiful, rustic, warm, inviting, lacking none of the comforts a modern house needs, because you canât quite get the big city girl out of you. The entire land had a soft, yellow-golden light enveloping every tree and every rock, everywhere your eyes reached, as if the sun shone differently here.
The days are easy. The chores are more than enough to keep you focused, thereâs always something to do around here. It feels good to be busy, to keep your mind from dwelling on the past. You welcome the exhaustion of a full dayâs work that accompanies your body when night comes.
Evenings are mostly good. You shower the day off, you cook, you chill on the couch with a good book or a film and more often than not, as the time passes and you feel more comfortable sharing the privacy of your home, you have friends over for dinner and drinks.
Nights though, nights are hard. At night, you pray that you are tired to the point of exhaustion so that you can sleep through it peacefully. Sometimes it works, but most of the time, not so much.
Time has intensified and lessened your emotional burden simultaneously.
The sharp pain that feels like thick acid being poured into you mellows in an inexplicable way. It still hurts, the pain oozing out of your every single pore even in a physical way. Only now, it has transformed into a sweet, slow poison conquering every hollow of your body, every vein leading from your heart to the ends of your limbs.
Itâs almost a welcoming feeling, this pain, reminding you that youâre still alive, that he was real, that everything that happened was real. Because sometimes, sometimes, when you let yourself relax, when you let your guard down, all of this feels like a dream. Sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night, confused, reaching with your hand for the other side of the bed and finding it empty. And for a split second you get that feeling. The feeling of how it used to be with him next to you.
Then you remember.
You know why this is happening and whoâs responsible for it. This is a mix-up. This is what your treacherous brain does to mess with your resolve. It blends the bad stuff into the good, creating the strangest of concoctions. The clear image of black and white, neatly and perfectly hung in the center of the walls of your mind is now splashed with colorful memories from your life together, like a Pollock painting. You do your best to resist, to bring back scenes from all the vivid recollections of the night your life changed forever but your uncooperative brain pops another memory up, a good fuckinâ memory, like a projector, illuminating those bare imaginary walls with laughter and touches and whispers and scents and warmth. Itâs relentless.
This dichotomy creates an uneasiness inside you, you choose to reject and pretend not to notice. Which in turn leads to self-contempt because, as always you canât lie to yourself. You may lie to others but deep in your core you have to be honest with yourself. That is something youâre owed. To be aware, present in the reality of your life. So, you know, you know, you just sweep things under the carpet as a copy mechanism. You know what you should do.
You should confront him. You should demand answers and then finally say what you need to say to him. Not for him, not for his sake, but for yours. But you canât. You've lost count of how many times you've picked up the phone and your thumb hovered over his contact to call him but you just canât bring yourself to do it. And every time you tried to text him, to start a conversation, it felt too awkward. The only acceptable subject of discussion initiated by you was the progress of the divorce papers. You were unable to even remotely insinuate a more meaningful encounter. And he didnât make any advances either. Not that you gave him any room to try and talk to you, but still, he seemed more settled with that, rather than not.
Maybe that fact itself was your cue to let it all go. Heâs probably moved on. You donât cheat on someone so blatantly and then want them back. Obviously, this whole delaying of the divorce is a power play, like everything else, it seems.
Good, yeah, thatâs it. Thatâs it.
Now, let go. Move on. You solved it. Let go.
But this annoying little voice is scratching the walls of your weary brain, nudging the limits of the carefully made up serenity thatâs hanging by a thread.
You should confront him. For your peace of mind, for your equilibrium.
But itâs nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.
Joel, will you please sign the papers?
Itâs early in the evening and youâre in the garden in front of the house near the porch, on your knees, plucking a few weeds from the ground. The fatigue of the dayâs work has begun to take its toll on you, your shoulder is slightly trembling as you rest your weight on one palm to dig around with the other. Sweat covers your torso, rolling down between the valley of your breasts and the hollow between your spine, leaving your t-shirt clinging to your skin, your hair sticking to your forehead, which is lightly covered in a thin layer of dirt at some places as you keep wiping your forearm over the little beads of salty water that concentrate over your brows.
You feel him before you see him. Heâs still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you.
There's an overload of sensations before you shift your body around to confirm what you already know in your bones. You can smell him, taste him, feel him on your suddenly tingling skin, all at the same time.
You turn slowly and your breath hitches on your throat. You just stay in place, frozen, time infinitely stretching as you take him in from where you kneel on the ground. He stops abruptly the second his eyes meet yours and you could swear heâs holding his breath, his face completely unreadable.
He looks.. he looks like your Joel and nothing like him simultaneously. Soft yet imposing. Handsome yet battered. Determined yet lost. His clothing is simpler, dark jeans, green flannel over a black t-shirt and laced boots, as if he just returned from a working site. His curls are longer, framing his handsome face in a ridiculously good way, more white hairs nestle in his beard that is not that trimmed. Neither of you speak quite yet, taking each other in.
Your mind, your bizarre, ridiculous mind is working on figuring out what day it is. Why does it matter? Did you have an appointment? This is unexpected and a long time coming all at once, regardless of the day of the week. What comes next? Do you draw up an astrological map to determine if it's a compatible date for you to meet? Get it together.
Your facial expression must be pretty funny because Joel smiles awkwardly while scratching one side of his bearded cheek; hey, itâs me.
No, shit, you mentally respond, as if you could ever forget him. Furious is the word that best describes you because these are his first words? Hey, itâs me? And that feeling escalates into an explosive retort because you now realize that you had expectations. His first words? Who cares what his first words are? Were you expecting a tearful reunion, masterfully staged and executed like a romantic film? The guy betrayed you in your own house, sorry, his house. Wake the fuck up.
âDid you sign the papers?â you spit as you rise from your spot and he reacts as if you have punched him in the stomach. His face falls; you see a series of micro-expressions pass over his features before he settles on the last one. Has he been hurt? Did you hurt his feelings? Did he also have expectations?
âUh-â, Joel raises his brows in genuine surprise, things probably not going the way he expected or hoped.
âItâs nice to see you, too.â, he replies with mild mockery.
Your eyes snap shut and you laugh in anger, lowering your chin to your chest and then looking back up at him, your eyes blazing, your brows mimicking his previously surprised expression, âAre you serious right now?â you cross your hands defensively over your chest.
You stare at each other for a good minute, both of you taking a moment to compose yourselves and regain your balance.
You break first, dropping your head back to your chest, looking down at the heel of your shoe scraping the ground beneath you, exhaling audibly.
âHey,â Joel tries again, after speaking your name tenderly, your name on his lips, his head dipping down and to the side to try and get your attention back to him, his gaze filled with a mixture of warmth, regret and fear, âhi.â
You shake your head from side to side in repentance, what a great start this is, you keep thinking, âHi.â is all you give him, still not looking at him.
âHi,â he repeats, âitâs really nice to see you, bab-, shit, sorry.â, he winces, covering his mouth with his palm, embarrassment creeping into his features. You let out a quiet laugh, exhaling through your nose. You donât comment on the slip of endearment that leaves his mouth, you donât correct him, accepting privately that you liked it, you missed it, you longed for it.
Joel studies your face, but makes no comment on your silence. âYou look...â he pauses for a split second before deciding to continue, âyou look really good.â He hesitates, he doesn't want his compliment to come across as a feeble attempt to patronize you, because he really means it. You do look good, all sweaty and muddy and human and real. You are real. If he took a few steps forward, he could actually reach out and touch you, feel your skin under his fingertips, smell your heady scent, perhaps discreetly lick the remnants of your sweat from his thumb after carefully removing the strands of hair sticking on your forehead. But he doesnât do that. He doesnât do any of that.
You donât quite know how to respond to that, any answer crossing your mind seems stupid or cheesy or dismissive. How do you respond to a compliment from the man who made you worship in his altar, only to have your faith ripped out of your heart?
His eyes keep roaming over your face, your figure, memorizing everything he can, like a blind man who has finally found his light, while he fidgets with an envelope in his hand which reminds you-
âDid you sign the papers, Joel?â, is what escapes your lips before you can think twice.
âNo.â and now itâs his turn to lower his head, his eyes avoiding your gaze, as he looks down at his feet.
âJoel!â, you exclaim infuriated, rolling your eyes at him, knitting your brows together in a sign of frustration.
âNo, no, itâs not like that. Iâll do it. Iâll do whatever you want.â, Joel raises a hand in your direction to stop you from what seems to be a fair assumption, his palm up, facing you in an unspoken surrender. âI thought that- me, not signing, was a way of showing you how deeply sorry I am, how much I wanted to fix our marriage, but I understand now,â his voice wavers slightly, âthat I need to respect your wishes. Itâs the right thing to do. If this is still what you want, Iâm gonna sign it.â
You donât reply to that last part, only pointing out that âYou didnât have to come all this way to tell me that.â
âNo, I didnât.â Joel agrees.
âThen why are you here?â you insist, reluctant to entertain the idea that he has actually come all this way to apologize.
âBecause I owe you an explanation.â is his honest and direct answer, sending little jolts of electricity through your nerves.
âJoel..â you sigh in exasperation. Not in warning or frustration, not really, but in something else. A feeling you canât really put a name to, the closest you can come to describing it is that of a burden, woven deep into your heart, blossoming rapidly with each beat. There are so many things left unsaid; it makes you feel helpless, like youâre drowning. You want the dam youâve built around your soul over the years to break so everything you've been holding back can finally pour out of you, but thereâs just so much of it, of everything, that youâre terrified. Will the overflowing tank of emotions be completely empty? Will there be anything left unsaid? Untouched? What if the remnants left behind keep licking around your wounds, their waves pushing, shaping whatâs left of you into something new, unrecognizable?
And what if, the tank will indeed be completely empty? What youâll be left with, then? Nothing? Just.. empty? Will you remain empty? What, if anything, will take its place? Will you recognize your new self? Will you like yourself? Will you be able to live in harmony with this shell of a person? This you; you know. You hated and pitied and caressed and comforted and forgave and nurtured you into some version of a new you. But this? Everything will be torn apart, the wounds will be freshly opened, accessible to be examined in detail, plucked and bled and bruised in an all-too-familiar way.
Joelâs voice snaps you out of your trance, âNo, I do. I owe you more than that, actually, but thatâs the least I can do. And I wanna do that while Iâm still your husband. I want to explain myself as your husband. Apologize to my wife, as her husband. Then Iâm gonna sign anything you want me to.â
âAnd if I donât wanna hear what you have to say?â
âThen Iâll just sign the papers and leave you in peace.â Joel confesses in all his honesty.
You just nod, looking down on the ground. You take a deep breath to ground yourself. You can do this. You want to do this. You need to do this.
You walk towards the house and sit down on the steps of the porch, as he looks at you awkwardly, not knowing where to stand. You gesture with a tilt of your head for him to come sit next to you. You can do this. You realize that you didnât invite him into the house and you feel a bit rude for that, but it's beyond your empathetic capacity to deal with him being here and to let him into the house as well. âI just like it out here, itâs calm and-â
âYou donât have to explain yourself to me, whatever makes you feel comfortable; I know you donât want me here any longer than I have to be..â he interrupts you as he sits down next to you, his one side pressing against the end of the stairs, where the railing begins. He places the contract between your bodies, on the wooden floor.
It makes you uncomfortable, his statement, you always want people to feel welcome and relaxed around you. You internally chastise yourself for worrying about his feelings instead of yours, but you canât help it, itâs embedded in your DNA. âItâs OK, Joel, I donât mind, we can talk.â
Joel nods, but he remains silent. You donât break the silence, giving him time to collect his thoughts. He chuckles defeated, shaking his head while rubbing his hand over his face.
âAre you sure?â
âYes, you donât look that mighty to me anymore.â you blurt out before you can stop yourself and you immediately regret it. It didnât sound so insulting in your head. You only meant to say that he doesnât intimidate you anymore. Which is sort of a lie and a truth at the same time. You used to find him imposing, even his mere presence had the ability to make your skin crawl, your heart flutter and your words get catch in your dry throat, you were in awe of him. Every time you laid your eyes at him, even when you were straddling his lap or gazing at his profile as he slept beside you, you always felt as if you were looking up. You admired him.
His heart loses several beats to that. He can read between your lines now. He has lost your respect. Your admiration. The time when you looked up to him in awe is long gone.
âYou know, my therapist warned me about this.â, he chuckles bitterly.
âYour-â you canât hide your shocked expression from him as you search his eyes for any sign of him joking around, but you find none. âYouâve been in therapy?â
âYeah, I-, I spent two years hating myself,â he chuckles deprecatingly, âand then I realized it was time for me to stop being an arrogant prick, so I spent another two doing it all over again with the help of my therapist.â
You laugh wholeheartedly at that and itâs the most beautiful sight heâs ever seen in his entire life. âOK, somebodyâs off to a good start. Go on.â
âYou mean about the therapy?â
âI mean about you admitting you are an arrogant prickâ, you say playfully.
He really laughs now, his eyes crinkle up at the sides. You used to love that. You feel your heart warming up. âYou can thank Maria for that.â
âFor what?â
âFor kicking my ass and pushing me to help myself.â Joel admits. âSheâs a good friend.â
âYeah, she is.â you agree through your laughter, the image of Maria actually kicking Joelâs ass is priceless.
âI missed that sound.â Joel is looking at you softly, as if his gaze could break you.
âHm.â you simply smile at him, not finding it in you to respond with a snide remark. The time for that feels like it has passed, like itâs irrelevant at this point. All you really want is to have an honest conversation, irony be damned.
You both look at your feet in silent consideration for a minute or two. âI thought youâd be mad at me.â Joel reveals.
You exhale through your nose, the edges of your mouth turning up in a gentle smile. âFour years is a long time to be mad at anyone, Joel. Even you donât have that kind of power over me.â
âGood. I have enough burden on my shoulders as it is..â, he mumbles and you decide to change the subject.
How do you admit that you are still mad at him but in a different way? How do you describe the deep scar his existence has carved into your soul making it almost unbearable to even exist without him? How do you explain that youâll always carry him with you, no matter what? How do you instill in him that you still believe in the best version of him, the best version you know he can be, the best version of him you once lived with. Yes, youâre not mad at him for the reasons he thinks you are. Youâre mad at him because the way he made you love him is stronger than any hurt heâs ever caused you.
âSo, what did your therapist warn you about?â
âShe, uh- she tried to prepare me for this.â
âOh? What did she say?â
âThat I should not be prepared.â, he laughs in earnest. âThat I should not obsess about what I want to say and just be open and have an honest interaction.â
âI like her, already.â you say with a straight face.
He smiles softly, looking down at his boots, while he rests his elbows on his knees, one palm encircling the other. âYeah⊠I had some digging to do; I still do for that matter and will be for a long time it seems.â
âAnything you wanna share?â you reply, raising an eyebrow as if you had no idea why he was here.
âOh, boy-â he squirms in his seat, already overwhelmed by the turn of the conversation, his chest almost vibrating with anxiety, he can barely swallow, small beads of sweat starting to form around his temples. You reluctantly reach for his forearm, trying to calm him down. âHey, Joel?â
His whole body stiffens at your touch and he wishes his clothes would evaporate so he could feel your skin against his. He fixes his eyes on your delicate fingers lightly squeezing his tight muscles underneath the fabric. âThe worst part has already happened four years ago, so-â you shrug, âjust breathe.â Joel keeps his eyes on your hand, his heart rate dropping slightly; you ground him. You retract your arm and keep your hands to yourself in an effort to maintain a respectable distance between you. You shouldnât have touched him at all.
âI think- I think I understand now.â he begins, still feeling the ghost of your touch on his forearm. âHow I made you feel, what your words meant. You always did that, you know. And I found it so fascinating and so exhausting at the same time.â
You look at him, confused. Joel continues, âYou always chose your words carefully. You had a reason for every single thing you said. In retrospect, I realized that you were handing me everything on a silver platter, but I was too self-absorbed to see it at the time.â
You nod in agreement, gesturing with your head for him to keep going.
Joel takes a deep breath, holding it inside his lungs for a while. His exhalation is controlled, measured. âFuck. Okay. It was not just the fact itself. It was not just the cheatinâ.â
Your stomach clenches violently at his words. The time has finally come and although you know what happened, you where there, when the words come out of Joelâs mouth it's as if you're pulled back to that threshold all over again. It really happened. You feel your hands sweating. âGo on.â, you pronounce carefully, already anxious your voice is going to betray you. You can do this.
âI donât want to sound all full of myself-â Joel hesitates.
âYou wonât.â you interrupt him with conviction. The truth has never frightened you. You welcome it. It feels like a form of catharsis, it feels like youâre finally being seen. Every nerve in your body is on fire. Youâre ready for this, for the truth, if only he gives it to you. Please, set me free.
âI was your everything.â he whispers, almost embarrassed, his eyes not meeting yours. You donât respond to that, not until he looks at you, although the admission shoots straight through your heart. You stare at the side of his face, almost forcing him to turn to you. He does.
âYou were.â Simple. True. Clear as the light of day.
âAnd I ripped that from you.â
âYou did.â
âIn the worst possible way.â
âHmhm.â, you donât trust the stability of your voice.
âAnd no matter what I say, I can never take back what I did. I humiliated you, our home, our relationship, everything. I-â his brows furrow in an expression of disgust, âI disrespected myself. I burned everything down. I left nothing for you to hold on to, nothing for me to hope for, nothing.â
His chin trembles and his voice wavers as he continues. âThe words to describe how sorry I am have not yet been invented. And even if they had, they still couldnât take the pain away; whatâs done, is done.â
He closes his eyes and rests his head on the railing. âI donât know what I wish for anymore. That you had never met me, so you could be spared all this pain? But I canât. I canât wish that, because Iâm so grateful to have met you. I married you, I had you. That is what has comforted me all these years, what has got me through all those sleepless nights.â He looks absolutely devastated, desperate.
It feels genuine, because heâs not directing it at you, heâs not trying to convince you, heâs not trying at all. âI have not thought about my pain or what I want from all this for a long time. All I pray for is-â his glistening eyes are searching frantically on the ground, his brows knitted together in a painful grimace. You rest your head on the palm of your hand, your elbow on your knee. Watching this moment like an outside observer, you realize that he's trying to live up to your standards, reminding you of a child trying to impress his parents, only to fail regardless of the outcome.
âLook, Joel, couples break up, divorce, all over the world, all the time. And I guess, they all thought their partners were their everything until they finally werenât.â, you rationalize, putting everything that has happened into some kind of perspective. It is not the end of the world. It is the end of your world. He doesnât have to carry this burden on his shoulders for eternity. All you need from him is to understand, to acknowledge what he's done to you, how broken youâve been.
But if he acknowledges that, if he truly comprehends the tremendous pain heâs put you through, wonât all that anguish be transferred to him? Isn't it unbearable for a truly repentant man to know that he has deliberately caused so much pain?
âBut, you see; I wanted that, I needed to be your everything.â
âIt certainly fed your ego..â you grin at him.
âNo, no- I craved that- that look on your face when your eyes were on me, like there was nothing else, no one else around you, but me. You drove me to be better, to move forward; I felt I had a purpose. You were my purpose.â
âWell I didnât do much of a job then, did I?â you smile defeated.
âNo, honey, this-â heâs determined to make you understand that it wasn't your fault, even if it is the last thing he is going to do. He licks his lips trying to formulate his thoughts, â-what happened, had nothing to do with you, I- I was just- I got in my head..â
You shake your head dismissively, âItâs a terrible burden to put people on a pedestal and expect them to-â
âBut you see, baby, thatâs the thing. You didnât.âJoel dismisses your comment and if a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown over your head you wouldnât feel so frozen. You search his eyes for meaning, because deep down it stings to hear that you could give more. Is that what heâs saying? You didnât love him enough? Joel catches on and rushes to explain. âYou-â god this is so hard, heâs struggling, canât he just rip his heart open and let you examine it? âYou loved me so much, baby and you never asked for anything in return. You let me be who I was. You accepted me completely. You set me free.â His eyes are blown wide, burning into yours with intensity. You look so lost, how does all this fit in with what he did then?
âDarlinâ,â he expands further, âwe live in a competitive world. Everyone aims to control each other, from business partners to lovers and spouses; everyone manipulates, everyone tries to tell you where to look, what to do, how to act, how to fuck, how to love. Except for you. You let me be. You put your heart in my hands and you set me free. And I took advantage of that and I am truly sorry. Iâm more sorry than youâll ever know. Thatâs how fucked up I am.â you look at him dumbfounded.
âI canât connect the dots; I donât get it, Joel, Iâm sorry, I-â you run your fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp in frustration. What does he mean?
Joel winces mid-sentence because he canât escape whatâs coming. This is his last resort. And he knows it is going to sound cruel and he doesnât even mean the first part the way you're going to perceive it, but for lack of better words, for lack of the better person he could have been, a person who should have never put you in this position in the first place, here goes.
âShe made me feel wanted; you made me feel free.â,
he spits out in a hurry, praying to whatever god is listening, that you wonât even catch it, knowing full well that these may be the last words you'll ever let him speak to you.
You are utterly, completely, perfectly shocked.
Then you feel it for the first time in what feels like ages. That old friend consuming you. Rage. It burns your lungs, twists your guts and pierces your heart like a thousand needles. Everything becomes crystal clear. Youâre so infuriated, that your mind goes blank. A million words and nothing at all come to your mind simultaneously.
âLet me- let me rephrase that, because actually it was never even about her, I just-â Joel begins, in a vain attempt to stop the tide from crushing you both.
Your palms become clenched fists in front of your mouth, pressing against it, crushing the velvety skin of the inside of your lips against your teeth until you draw blood, in an effort to control yourself. You inhale sharply, keeping your eyes fixed on the land in front of you, blurred by the tears gathering in your waterline.
âShe- what?â are the only words you manage to choke out.
âBaby, it doesnât matter, it was never about her, she was a means to an end and-â your eyes bulge out of your sockets at the statement, âI know- I know how that sounds- just-â his palms come together in a prayerful gesture, begging you to give him a chance to explain.
âA means to an- what the fuck are you talking about, Joel?â the veins on your forehead swell under your skin, creating a map of the river of wrath flowing aggressively through your body.
âIt was never an affair sweetheart, but a transaction; one I initiated. She was only a boost to my ego.â
..she made me feel wanted..
..a boost to my ego..
It's all starting to make sense now, and it's the last thing you expect to be confronted with. You've always imagined either a heated affair, a secret love story, him realizing he had found his soul mate in someone else, or him getting bored with you, finding you too much or too emotional or too unlovable. It turns out that you were accused of the one thing you never were.
âAre you-, oh god,â you can hear your heart pounding in your ears now and it takes every ounce of strength not to vomit, âare you saying that you fucked someone else; you fucked your secretary for fuckâs sake, you fuckinâ clichĂ© of a man, because I wasnât jealous of you?â. Your throat is so swollen, you try to scream your words at him but they only come out in wrenched whispers.
You stand up abruptly, dizziness causing you to close your eyes tightly as you see a million white dots behind the blackness of your eyelids. Your whole body vibrates with rage. You steady yourself on the railing and then begin to pace back and forth, your hands unable to stay motionless, but moving over your face, through your hair, lowering and squeezing the sides of your waist as you lean slightly forward in a subconscious way to soothe yourself.
âOh my god, oh my fucking god,â you laugh hysterically now, as angry tears run down your cheeks, as if you've been let in on an inside joke. âItâs my fault, everything is my fault-â
Joel is frozen in place, heâs not sure if he should get up and try to reason with you or stay where he is.. or run for the hills. Heâs witnessing the unleashing of a caged animal. His tongue feels heavy and numb in the cavern of his mouth but he dares to speak again, âThatâs the exact opposite of what I said, sweetheart,â he tries to explain in vain, âIâm sorry if thatâs what I-â but youâre not listening to a single word he utters.
âPeople kept telling me, urging me on, all my life;â and you slap your palms on the sides of your thighs, looking at his direction, but not really looking, âI should be more controlling, more pushy, more..â your voice begins to fade, muttering to yourself through your teeth. âThey warned me, you know, that the lack of pressure in any kind of relationship would be perceived as a lack of interest.â
Don't trust completely; hold something back; men like the illusion of power; show them you need them; make them jealous; be jealous, like a manual to a pre-installed setting.
Do you agree to the Terms & Conditions?
Press âEnter.â
âBut I didnât listen. I never listened. Because in what world do we choose a leash over freedom?â You turn to look at him now, addressing him as if you were talking to a third party, an outsider, asking for advise or affirmation.
Mariaâs words come back to Joelâs mind, words that he had long forgotten about, finally fitting like missing pieces of a puzzle to the bigger picture.
âMaybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âMeans that freedom is for those who can bear it.â
âI was really stupid, was I not? What on earth made me think that this time would be any different, what made me think that youâd be any different? Youâre just- youâre just another man-â you spit your vile angrily as your eyes sweep over him. The look in his eyes is devastated, he feels shuttered, reduced to nothing.
âStupid, stupid, stupid little girl. When the fuck will I learn? When the fuck am I going to accept that I don't really belong? When?â
Joel is staring at you bewildered, he never felt more helpless in his life. A thousand new thoughts and questions form in your head, things you didnât even begin to imagine would cross your mind.
âDid you use her?â you ask with renewed vigor, a surge of energy running through your body.
Joelâs cheeks burn with humiliation but he has already admitted it once, what will it do to him to say it one more time? âYes, I never had any feelings f-â
âNo,â you interrupt impatiently, you don't care about his feelings right fuckin' now, âthat night, did you use her? On purpose?â
Joel looks lost for a second but the cogs in his head finally turn and âNO! No baby, I wasnât even aware of you coming home earlier than expected, no. Donât even entertain this idea; it wasnât intentional, I swear to god.â
Oh. Thereâs a new question for Joel. Why did you leave your business trip early? He had never thought about it before, solely focused on everything else that had happened, which now made him wonder, âDid you- did you know?â
âWhat?â you frown, lost in your own thoughts, not following his line of logic.
âDid you know? Is that why you came back early from your trip?â
Youâre still a bit too far gone in your head to think clearly and try to prevent the next question from coming, âOf course I didnât know, Joel, did it look like I did?â is all you say with a bite, annoyed.
âThen why-â Joel insists, pressuring you for an answer, but he doesnât get to finish his sentence.
âI- fuck- I need a minute.â you declare and start to walk towards the house.
Joel waited on that porch for almost an hour, watching the sun set behind the mountain, afraid to move, barely breathing in case you stormed out and threw him back where he came from as if him standing still would somehow make him part of the landscape; as if he belonged.
And you certainly delivered.
He hears the screen door open, his back still to the house. You are standing behind him, your arms crossed stiffly over your chest, your face tilted down, to avoid his gaze. He could see the red-rimmed and swollen eyes of yours, despite your efforts to hide them.
âI canât do this-â
âPlease,â his whole face contorts in agony, âplease, hear me-â you both speak at the same time.
â-tonight.â
âWhat?â his voice matching the look of confusion on his face.
âMaybe another time, but not tonight.â
âI-â he doesnât know how to articulate his thoughts without sounding like an idiot. He drove all this way, four hours straight, to finally get things straight. His brain has short-circuited, unable to put a plan into action. Should he check into a hotel or a motel or whatever the fuck is around here in the middle of nowhere? Should he go back to his place? Do you really want to talk again? You sort of said you did. You said maybe. Fuck. What does he do?
But honestly, what did he expect? That this would be over in the course of one evening? Of course he would have to come back. His eyes are fixed on yours like a deer caught in the headlights. âI came all this way-â he mumbles, choking on the last part, already regretting the words that came out of his mouth.
âWell, too bad.â you spit emotionless as you turn and head for the safety of your house, leaving him stunned on the goddamn porch.
Joel returned the next evening, but you weren't there. He made the four hour journey and came back empty-handed. And you weren't there the next evening, or the evening after that. But he kept on driving the miles, hot wheels under the Texas sun. He didnât check in anywhere near your small town. He went back home and then back to you again.
The last time he found nothing but a closed door, he finally got the message, so the next time he left the house, before he turned on the ignition, he texted you, as a sign of respect for your boundaries.
Is it all right if I come and see you?
Backspacebackspacebackspace
Is it OK if I come and talk?
And the answer was
Not today.
So, every day he texted you. He didnât mean to be intrusive, he just wanted to remind you that you were never far from his thoughts, that he was always ready and eager to finish what he started.
You denied him for quite some time. You couldnât bring yourself to face him again. The confessions he made have knocked you off your axis. Just when you finally felt like everything was falling into place, he dropped this bombshell, making you rethink everything you thought you knew and had sorted out in your mind. You just couldnât wrap your head around what youâd heard coming out of his mouth. How could he think like that? Why couldnât he just talk to you? You used to talk about everything; what the fuck happened? How did you not see that coming?
You were sure that he would give up, that he would stop bothering to contact you at all. Was it the monster of self-deprecation? Was it a deep disappointment in human beings and their general lack of persistence in trying to nurture and repair a relationship, or at least trying to give it a proper closure? You didnât give it much thought afraid of the answer you might get. But you kept saying Not today, until one day, for some reason-
Can we talk?
Yes.
Joelâs heart is beating through his chest so rapidly, he has to cough to regain some of his composure. He almost drops his phone, trying to confirm the most convenient time for you before you change your mind.
That was the first Yes after the day you saw him again. You werenât sure what you wanted to talk about; if you could pick up exactly where you left off. You werenât even sure you could look him in the eye again, but you had to see this through.
When you hear the sound of his engine and tires on the dirt road, you take a deep breath and walk out of the house to wait for him on the porch.
âCome on in, Iâm cooking dinner.â you announce as you open the screen door for him to enter the house.
âAre you sure?â, Joel is taken aback, he thought the inside of your house was strictly off-limits to him. You were also cooking dinner as if he was an old friend visiting you. He couldnât help but wonder if he should lower his defenses or not but with the way you looked tonight you didnât give him much of a choice.
Youâre wearing a pair of warm cream jeans, paired with a white front tie shirt, the first few buttons left open, giving him a glimpse of your tanned sternum. It almost looks like a manâs shirt, just messily tied up over your soft skin, revealing bits of your stomach. Could it be another manâs shirt?
You are barefoot. The nails of your toes are painted in a fresh glossy black color. Your hair is casually tied up in a messy bun, loose strands falling around your beaming face. Joel has to restrain himself from pushing you against the wall and fucking you on the spot, by clenching and unclenching his fists. His mouth is salivating at the sight of you, excitement building in his groin. It's been so long since he's felt this way, a different kind of hunger is growing in him at a rapid pace, as if something buried deep inside his masculinity has just awakened from hibernation.
âYeah, Iâm sure,â you quirk back at him, as if itâs the most natural thing in the world, what youâre both doing. âIâm starving. Coming?â you leave him at the entrance and go back into the house.
âYou have a beautiful home.â, Joel admits as he takes in his surroundings, thinking that this is going better than he expected. He also can't help but prepare himself for the fact that this might not end the same way.
âThank you.â you laugh nervously.
âWhat?â, he catches the note of disbelief in your voice. âI'm serious, the light is just right, itâs open and warm; it actually reminds me of you.â he says matter-of-factly.
âNo, no, I know you mean it, itâs just- I guess itâs high praise, coming from you.â you admit. You always admired what he did for a living and how good he was at it and him seeing your place for the first time gave you another reason to feel kind of nervous.
âOh, come on, none of that now.â he dismisses the compliment, his voice wavering slightly at the praise.
âWell itâs true, you are excellent at what you do, I mean, the house you built is a work of art and thatâs a fact.â
âWhich one?â, although he knows exactly which one, he presses on.
âThe one we used to live in, together.â You canât call it your house. You cannot. The mere thought of it makes your tongue feel like itâs on fire.
âOh.â, Joel smiles as he presses his lips together in a thin line, âYou mean our house. It was built out of love, that's why. It's the one I'm most proud of.â
âHm.â, is all you give him. DĂ©jĂ vu brings back memories out of the closet -pun intended- for both of you.
âOk, now you really have to tell me. What is it?â, Joel crosses his forearms over his chest. He has to know.
âWhat do you mean?â, you try to buy some more time, cause youâre not so sure you want to go in there.
âYou had the exact same reaction when I mentioned that, four years ago.â
âAh, that.â
âYeah, that.â
âItâs just- it always felt like it reflected your personality rather than mine. Or at least ours.â
Joel looks at you perplexed.
âIâm not complaining, I mean, how many people can claim that their husband built them a house the size of a small hotel as a wedding present?â you chuckle while you continue as nonchalantly as you can muster, âI would have lived in a cave with you, Joel, you didnât have to go to these lengths to house two people. If you want my honest opinion, this was an ego project. I let it slide because it made you happy. And I liked you happy.â Joel looks stunned, his eyes darting back and forth between yours.
âBaby, I- I wanted to make you happy, to give you the best I could-â
âJoel, Iâm not judging you. I am not. But you didnât show me a single blueprint while you were designing the damn thing. You didnât ask me what I wanted or how I imagined it. Sure, you equipped it with all the best stuff money could buy, but you never asked me what I thought about it. Not really.â, you see the hurt in his eyes and it unsettles you, but now the rabbit is out of the hat. âAgain, Iâm not judging you and Iâm not being ungrateful, all Iâm saying is that for some reason you needed your shinny new wife to live in a shinny new castle. It was a prestige thing. Just think about it.â
âJesus..â Joel mutters, pinching the sides of his forehead with one hand, feeling defeated.
âHey,â you give him a wry look, âI tried to avoid answering that question for four years. You were the one who insisted.â you defend yourself, clearly amused by his reaction.
âWhat else do I need to know?â, Joel wonders in a desperate manner.
âWell.. for how long can you keep coming back?â you joke absentmindedly.
âFor the rest of my life..â Joel answers a little too quickly, not a hint of playfulness in his voice.
Your heart tightens at his eagerness, forcing you to admit a consideration that you have had more than a few times before. âYou know,â you look over at him, lost in thought, almost like reminiscing, âsometimes I wish I had met you before your company took off.â You snap out of your daydream and consciously look at him and he looks pained as if some kind of realization has hit him. You change the subject for the sake of both of you. âAnyway, speaking of which, how is work? I heard you closed that deal, after all.â you grin mischievously.
âYeah, I did.â, his voice takes on a strange timbre, almost like regret. But youâre not so sure about anything these days, so you let it pass. He puts the envelope with the contract on the counter in the kitchen and sits down in the chair next to the table already set for dinner.
âGood, thatâs good. Let me guess, youâre all over it? First in, last out? Is it almost done?â you word vomit to cover your nervousness.
âUh,â Joel rubs the back of his neck, âI wouldnât know.â is all he gives you, clearly trying to avoid getting involved in the discussion.
âUm, you donât know?â, you laugh lightly in confusion. âHow is that possible?â, you ask stirring the vegetables in the pan.
âIâm not involved in the project and I have no idea about the status of the construction;â Joel answers your question and continues, revealing, âI quit. Sold my shares and got out.â
âYeah,â you draw the vowels, still not looking in his direction, âright. Big, mighty Joel Miller left his enterprise-â you laugh mockingly, but you are met with silence. âYouâre joking, right?â You turn to look at him, not believing what you have just heard. You feel your blood freeze in your veins.
Joel shakes his head in denial, âIâve actually left the city and the only reason I havenât sold every asset in my name is in case you want to claim any of them. Theyâre all yours if you want âem.â Your mouth is slightly agape, as you try to process what has just been delivered to you.
You open your mouth to protest but he beats you to it, by raising his hand to stop you. âI know you donât want anything from me, but that doesnât change the fact that I donât want them either. Not without you. Just take them. Burn them for all I care, liquidate them and use the money as you see fit.â, Joel insists, trying to find ways to convince you.
âYou can do that yourself, Joel.â is all you say; you donât give a damn about his money. Joel nods and leaves it at that, he knows better than to talk about money right now.
Youâre curious where he lives now, but youâre not sure itâs appropriate to ask, so you donât. You prepare dinner and make small talk about simple things like your lives over the past four years. Joel asks you about the ranch, the horses, the chores; you ask him about Tommy and Maria, their newborn son, whom you haven't had a chance to meet yet. None of you dare to break the bubble of normality in which you have effortlessly found yourselves.
It feels like coming home after a long day, the way you both fall into a comfortable silence. Joel speaks your name softly, drawing your attention and your gaze back to him. âWhat are we doing here?â
âWeâre eating?â Just a little longer, let me have it just a little longer.
âYeah,â he chuckles, âno, I mean, what are we doing?â he gestures with his fingers between him and you.
You look at him and then at your plate, playing around with your food, lost in thought. How do you acknowledge that? How do you confess that youâre trying to stretch time? How do you admit that youâre scared out of your mind of how it's all going to end? How do you even come to terms with the fact that youâre not sure you want any of this to end? How do you accept how natural it feels to have him back in your life? How do you admit that after four years the pain has never stopped, but the force, the roughness of it has changed into something softer, yet persistent; never quite going away, lingering.
How do you admit that all the good memories are emerging, because thatâs what the mind does, thatâs how it protects you, thatâs how it helps you survive another day, thatâs how it tricks you into falling back into a comfortable routine with him. Even if what binds you together now is his betrayal. How do you admit that youâre afraid of what will become of you once you've finished confessing your truths?
Will he cease to exist for you? Will you cease to exist for him? Will he ever bother to contact you again? Do you really want him to? Will you matter to him or will he move on, start again and shake off the last vestiges of your life together?
Or maybe- maybe he has moved on with his life and that's why he's doing all this, putting all this effort into it. Maybe he is preparing a new, clear path for himself and whoever is in his life right now. Is it her? Is it still, her?
Youâre spiraling, lost in your thoughts, biting your lower lip anxiously, like a snake eating its own tail. âBaby?â his baritone voice snaps you out of it, he must have called you several times before you heard him, suddenly aware of hot, fat tears streaming down your face, his thumbs gently brushing them from your cheeks.
You let out a shuddering breath; itâs the first time heâs touched you, in so, so long. And here he is again. The familiar, old friend. Heâs pounding on your door now, relentless as he is, screaming for you to let him in, lead the way, take charge, take care of you. You can almost feel his maniacal banging, vibrating through your chest, let me in, let me in, let me in.
Let me in, better angry than scared.
Better angry than scared.
Your shoulders slump, your head feels unbearably heavy. The world has stopped moving. The world is moving too fast. You savor his features as he leans further in, his intoxicating scent filling your nostrils, his eyes pleading, the brown of his irises inviting you to let him in. Joelâs face is that of a man still in love as he continues to caress your skin and you let him.
You let him, because you are a weak person.
You let him because you have been deprived of his touch, of any touch really, for far too long.
You let him because you want to have something for yourself, selfishly.
You let him, because for once you just want to take. Take, take, take.
You let him because you just want to be held and touched and loved.
And even though your mind knows that you shouldnât want all that from him, your heart allows you that little moment.
âJoel, Iâm tired.â you begin, your voice breaking as fresh tears run down your face and onto his thumbs. âTired to my bones. All I want is to be honest with each other. Do you think we can do that? Can we talk like two adults with nothing left to lose? Can we just be truthful to each other? I know thereâs too much history between us, too much hurt and resentment but we both have to try and put it all behind us. I canât go on like this.â
Thereâs a stillness in him, realization and clarity dawning on him. He thinks he understands now and it shocks him somehow, as a fact, that there are still things to uncover, to revel in, to acknowledge. Every time he thinks heâs reached the end of this journey, a new sun rises over the horizon.
You donât need the specifics of his action, at least not right now, or not anymore. What you need is closure. True, honest closure. And that can only come from him baring himself to you. âYeah, yeah, we can do that. We can do anything you want, baby.â, he squeezes his eyes shut, knowing where to begin, but resisting the thought. He leans back in his seat, dropping his hands from your face as he lets out the breath he seems to be holding in and begins.
âRemember that night before your business trip when you came to my office?â
âUh, yeah? I guess.â, what a strange thing to mention, you think confused. âWhat about it?â
âYou came to me for sex.â, Joel says bluntly, no need to beat around the bush. This is it. This is how he loses you. Once again.
You stare at him and then, for some reason, look down in embarrassment. Youâve fucked him in almost every way you can think of and now the very admission of that fact makes you feel like an exposed nerve. It dawns on you, how far away this era has slipped away. You feel vulnerable as if youâre talking to a total stranger about your most intimate moments. At the same time, you still know exactly how to touch him, how to please him and a light warmth begins to shimmer inside you.
âWell, thatâs one way of putting it, but- yeah..â, you admit, still nervously picking at your food with your fork.
Joel sees your apprehension but he presses on. This is what you asked for. âAnd I refused you.â The look on your face betrays your confusion. Where is he going with this? Only now, he sees more. He can finally see more. The hurt. The disappointment. âWhat happened next?â is his next question and does he really think that you can remember all these years later? Does he honestly believe that you can recall yourself leaving his office defeated and crying yourself to sleep? âI donât remember.â you lie, shrugging your shoulders as convincingly as you can muster.
âYou said you loved me and then you left.â, Joel reminds you.
âYou- you remember all that?â, your eyes are wide and the look on your face vulnerable, Joel wants to pause it all and hold you in his arms.
âI canât seem to forget anything about you,â he reveals, âbelieve me, Iâve tried.â
âWhatâs your point?â
âWhy did you do that?â
âUh.. why did I do what?â, you narrow your eyes in confusion.
His eyes are piercing yours, provoking you to figure it out on your own.
âLoved you?â He shakes his head almost imperceptibly.
Your eyes widen again, in surprise this time, as you finally see what he means.
âWalked away?â Youâre fucking shocked to the core, your voice choked, youâre not sure you spoke out loud.
âWhy didnât you insist?â
Your mouth is wide open, youâre speechless, you flatter your eyelids in search of the right words. This is your second encounter and once again he says what you least expect him to say.
âYou refusedâ you remind him now, âand I respected that.â, your hand moves to rest on your chest, palm open, to calm your racing heart.
âI didnât want you to.â
âYou know how that sounds, donât you?â, you mock with a nervous laugh.
âOh, please,â Joel is quick to respond, his brows knitted in a dismissive frown, âlike you could ever force yourself on me.â
You genuinely are at a loss for words, your gaze unable to stay in one place, your mind running a million miles an hour.
Apparently you both are, because Joel is no better at explaining how he feels. âI wanted you to-â, he stops, his eyes still searching yours for the right words, pleading with you to feel him.
Oh my god. Oh. My. God.
It dawns on you. All at once. You see it all playing out. You know exactly how this conversation is going to go. â-claim you? You wanted me to claim you?â, your voice rises, as does your tone. You feel the presence of your abandoned friend again. You donât want him here. But he creeps in through your veins, nonetheless. He is not giving up. If the pounding doesnât work then heâll poison you, slowly and persistently.
âFrom who? You were supposed to be mine!â, you exclaim exasperated, immediately correcting yourself â-not that I owned you, you know what-â
âThat! Thatâs what Iâm talking about!â Joel points his finger at you, âThatâs what I needed. To be yours!â
âBut you were! Are we really haggling over semantics? Of course you were mine! I just never wanted you to feel suffocated by me. You were not my possession Joel, you were my partner!â
âI swear to you, I would die a happy man, baby.â
âI- I tried so hard to control myself-â you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes back to your head as you shake it in denial, â-all that hunger inside of me, eating me up-â
âWhat?â is Joelâs turn to look like a lost puppy. What the fuck is going on here?
âYou,â you point a finger at him, âyou were my first and last thought every passing day, it wasnât even healthy anymore, Joel. But- I saw that look in your eyes sometimes, a hunger, one I thought mirrored mine and then it was gone in the blink of an eye and I thought that something was holding you back; I- I was holding you back. I thought- maybe I was undeserving..â you divert your eyes from him, embarrassed at your feeling of inadequacy, âSo, I accepted what you gave me if it meant I could have any part of you.â
âOh, baby..â Joelâs hiding his face in his palms and his heart breaks as he realizes where you both stand. How did the two of you get to this point? How could his judgment be so clouded, how could he be so blind to what was happening under his own roof? How could he be so arrogant as to seek validation, one he didn't even need, from someone else? Someone whose validation he didn't even care about. It didn't matter to him. She didnât matter to him. How could he not sense the insecurity tantalizing your very core to the point of feeling inadequate? If only you had told him sooner.
âWhy didnât you tell me?â you mirror his thoughts with your voice.
âWhat should I say to you? I couldnât put it into words, even now I'm not sure I can. It was an all-consuming feeling, an absolute necessity, an overwhelming need that was impossible to handle. I wasnât mentally or emotionally prepared to deal with it. I loved you with such force that it became an obsession. I couldnât even entertain the idea that you might not want me back in the same way. I felt helpless, vulnerable. How could I come to terms with this? With the realization that I had fucked someone else just to get a rise out of you or to prove to myself that I didn't need you that much after all?â
Joelâs palms are clenched into fists on his thighs, trying to keep himself from pressing his lips against yours. Feelings and desires that had been buried in his subconscious for too long came back as he tried to make you understand.
âA r- so, you did fuck her on our bed on purpose.â
âYou asked me that before, darlinâ, I promise you I did not.â
âThen how would you provoke me if you didnât mean for me to find out?â you look at him incredulously.
âI-â Joel winces, âit wasnât a conscious thought, I just kept fantasizing about you finding out and burning the house down for me and that single image made me so h-â Joel shuts his mouth abruptly, not the best idea to describe to you how fuckinâ hard he got, fantasizing about you while fucking someone else. You, bursting into the bedroom all raging and furious, turning the whole place upside down reclaiming what was rightfully yours.
Him.
What a sick fuck he was. âI swear to you, no. Iâm not that fucked up. It was a gigantic lack of judgment, I was fuckinâ drunk, my mind was a mess at that point. That whole week was-â heâs biting his tongue hard to stop himself while rubbing his forehead with his fingers, âI was just being an idiot.â
âThe week I was gone?â
âYes.â
âWhat about it?â
âNothing, âsnothing.â and he doesnât elaborate. âJust a bad fuckinâ week.â
The atmosphere suddenly feels suffocating, as if all the words that have spilled out of both your mouths are hovering over your heads like a black cloud. You need some air to clear your mind, so you make your way out of the kitchen without looking back and walk slowly to the porch, sitting on the steps at the bottom of the stairs. You know he will follow. Your bare feet touch the soft soil beneath you and you try to ground yourself through the little patch of earth you call your own. It doesnât quite work. Thereâs a beautiful golden glow, a last gift from the parting sun, warming your soul. Everything is going to be all right.
âStrange fantasies we both had.â you say as Joel seats down next to you, the contract once again a barrier between you. âYou kept fantasizing about me finding out about your affair-â.
âIt wasnât an affair-â Joel corrects you.
âFine, fine. You imagined that, while I kept fantasizing me holding you so tightly while we fucked that our flesh became one; thatâs how deep I needed you inside me, thatâs how obsessively I wanted to carry you with me all the time, isnât that totally fucked up?â you laugh dejectedly.
âI guess we are the same kind of fucked up. If only we could admit it to each other..â
âDid you really feel that I didnât love you enough?â you whisper, almost too scared to be heard and to get an answer.
âI think we loved each other too much. I think we were both too afraid of losing each other. I think,â Joel pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts and calm his voice, âin our efforts to keep each other we did the exact opposite. More me than you, for sure. I have handled things badly and badly is an understatement.â
âYou were always so patient with me. Youâd always wait for me to come to you, to take my time. I needed the savage in you, or I thought I did at the time. That desperate thing I felt creeping out of you in stolen glances or bitten lips between your teeth, or when we fucked; no one has ever fucked me like you did. I did see all of you then, you know. And I think you saw all of me. If I made you feel confident or safe enough, you would have talked to me. And if I wasnât so self-absorbed I would have asked.â
You never thought youâd hear these words from Joel, but all this time of self-reflection has changed him in a way that reminds you of the Joel you fell in love with. The one you could see behind all those layers of self-protection, the one youâd always hoped would emerge for you. And then he goes on, and you wish you knew what was coming so you could protect your heart from being torn to shreds.
âMaybe-â he closes his eyes looking pained, âmaybe I was a narcissist. Maybe you gave me all you had and I kept wanting more, maybe I needed every part of you for myself. Maybe I needed you on your knees, on a leash, at my mercy, just to have the illusion of the certainty that you would never leave me. Maybe freedom is for those who can bear it, after all. Hell, maybe I was the one who needed the leash in the end. Maybe you gave me too much credit, my love, when you deemed me worthy of freedom.â
His words are earth-shuttering, obliterating, final. Thereâs nothing left to be said, at least nothing of substance. Final. The fucking word plays over and over in your head. Final. This is final. You could swear that you have felt every possible kind of pain during these four long years but new depths of agony are being discovered right now. The acid in your stomach makes your throat constrict. You feel petrified.
Joel can sense your distress, his words have been of no comfort to you. Your skin looks pale, covered with a thin layer of cold sweat; you look physically ill. Your forearms rest on your knees and he gently cups your elbow to check in on you. Are you OK? You smile weakly at him, the expression not reaching the corners of your eyes.
âYou know I would give anything to take it all back, right?â
Your laughter is more lively now, not with malice or sarcasm, but with a sense of humor.
âYeah, yeah, I think I do.â, you shake your head in twisted amusement, tilting your head up, to let the last rays of the sun warm your face, maybe bring back some of your lost color. It's getting dark now, the day is coming to an end, the curtains of the last sunlight are almost closed. Your eyes are closed too, your head still tilted back as you laugh to yourself, âYou did that backwards, too, you know.â
âWhat?â
âYou have burned everything to the ground, only to realize that you want to get it all back in one piece. I mean itâs- itâs-â you struggle to find the right words but Joel offers one of his own.
âRidiculous..â
âI was gonna say pointless.. But thatâs the thing, Joel. Choosing to be with someone is like faith. You believe because you just know. You don't have to find evidence to prove your choice at every turn, otherwise itâs just exhausting. You choose to trust yourself.â
âTrust me as your partner, you mean, not yourself.â
âJoel, it was never about trusting you..â
âIâm sorry, I donât understand..â
âIâm not sure how to explain it- uh..â, you raise your shoulders and your brows in unison as you shake your head slightly, searching for the words. âTrust is a personal journey. âTrustâ doesn't mean âtrust in youâ, Iâm not trusting you. No one can be sure of anyone. âTrustâ means that I have faith in myself, that even if you hurt me, even if you abandon me, I will not fall apart. And..â you shrug your shoulders, hugging yourself with your hands, âlook at me, Joel..â, you finish, suggesting that youâre still here, still standing.
âI am, baby; I am..â Joel replies, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last time heâll ever have the chance to, utterly compelled by your inner glow.
âIâm not mad at you Joel, not anymore. And I believe you, I really do. But I canât get that scene out of my head. I just canât. I can still hear the sounds, I can even recall the way you smelled when you were standing next to me.â
His hands are shaking.
âIâm not trying to hurt you, really.â
âI know.â, his voice is barely audible.
âI think youâve done enough of that yourself. Maybe itâs time to forgive yourself?â
âDo you?â Do you, really? Do you forgive him after all that has been said? Do all these confessions illuminate the facts from a different perspective? Does it change what he did and what you went through? And if so, does that mean you're letting him go? Are you leaving him behind? Is he leaving you behind? Why is it so hard to let go? Why do you choose the safety of the known, even when it hurts you?
You choose not to answer and instead firmly insist, âYou have to forgive yourself, Joel, itâs okay.â Be the better person. If not for him, then for yourself. Let him go.
âI canât do that.â, Joel is adamant, shaking his head while he rejects your request.
âYes, you can.â you urge him again. âAs I can and do.â Let him go.
Joel never thought he would listen to those words coming out of your mouth. He doesnât deserve them. He hasnât earned them. âYou forgive me?â, he repeats in utter shock and disbelief.
âYes.â Loud and clear as daylight.
âI- You canât- I donât- I donât deserve that.â Joel feels like heâs drowning in your so graciously offered Holy Grail, desperately trying to keep his head above the waters of your absolution.
âI canât be the judge of that, Joel, hell, I canât be the judge of anyone. The way I see it, you chose your actions and I chose mine. You chose to hurt me and I chose to walk away. We both lost something. Have we not suffered enough, Joel?â you ask him honestly.
âI donât want to presume, but- isnât it a great burden to carry on your shoulders when you try to move on? All this anger, all that bitterness?â you search his eyes for an answer but he doesnât give you one.
You continue, hoping to get through to him. âYour feelings are your burden Joel and it doesnât matter if I forgive you. Thatâs why it is you who needs to forgive yourself.â
His eyes still refuse to meet yours, stubbornly glued to the ground. âIâm not doing this for you, Iâm doing this for me. We need to move forward, both of us.â is the last thing you say to him, not knowing if he even listened to half of what you just said.
You both fall into a thoughtful silence, but something you said is bugging him. He canât quite figure it out, so he turns to look at you, to savor you while he still has the chance. He knows that his time is limited.
Youâre just sitting there with him, trying to comfort him, you of all people. You seem lighter now, fidgeting absentmindedly with your fingers as if some of your burden has already been lifted. And as his gaze sweeps over you, he sees it again. He sees the white shirt hugging your body and he knows whatâs troubling him.
I donât want to presume, I donât want to presume, I donât want to presume.
His heart beats rapidly in his chest, panic rising inside him.
âIâve been with you for the last four years.â
âExcuse me?â your hands freeze as you turn to face him, clearly confused.
âYou said you didnât want to presume anything and I need to set the record straight. There was and is no other woman in my life except you.â
âJoel,â you blush shyly, âthis is none of my business, you are free-â
âNo. No. I need you to know this, itâs important to me. I meant everything I said. You have done nothing wrong. My feelings for you have never changed-â
âJoel, please..â you beg him to stop, you canât have this conversation now, itâs too soon. No, youâre wrong. Itâs too late; too soon means thereâs a future ahead of you. A future where you both fit in the same universe.
âI donât want you to think that I came all the way out here just to tie up some loose ends and move on. That is not what this is about.â
âIf you expect me to tell you about my personal life..â your what now?
âNo, I donât. And I donât think I could handle it, anyway. You are a free woman and you deserve the world. Unlike me; I donât deserve anything and Iâll never be free of you.â
Your chin is now trembling and you bite your lower lip to stop the involuntary muscle contraction. You canât decipher if itâs from anger for the way things came to be or from deep, excruciating sadness for how Joel feels. For how he makes you feel.
âFree woman, huh?â, you whisper bitterly, looking down at your feet, willing yourself not to cry.
âYes, free, as you should always have been and Iâm sorry I couldnât see it sooner.â
Joel then picks up the divorce papers from the floor next to him as heâs fishing a pen out of his pocket. He stares at you and then at the blank space where his signature should be, next to yours. He splays his palm over the last page as if to straighten it out, but it almost looks like heâs caressing it. He brings the ball of the pen to the white surface and for a moment his hand lingers over it. He doesnât dare look at you again, his resolve is not that strong. Finally, finally he signs, filling the empty spot and he hands you the contract. Itâs a strange moment, the one before the signature and the one after it.
Everything seems to be the same; it is just a signature.
Everything feels completely different; it is not just a signature.
Your fingertips brush his as you reach out to take it, the touch sending shivers down your spine. Your slightly trembling hands hold the papers gently, not sure you wanna hold on to them or scatter them on the ground. Your thumb swipes softly over his signature.
You feel it, now. You feel the ground beneath your bare feet, the warmth of the earth, the weight of your footing. The falling has stopped. The feather finally rests. You have landed.
Joel moves to stand on his feet, as you keep staring at the drying ink, when you feel something fall from above onto your thumb; but you canât see anything as it is immediately absorbed by the hungry pores of the paper, slightly smudging his signature. You look up to catch him as he dries his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
âFree as a bird, baby, ready to fly over the world.â, Joel smiles at you with a look of reverence and devotion in his eyes.
You picture the floating feather in your head and smile back at him with a serenity he hasnât seen in a long time.
âI think I just want to walk for a while. One step at a time.â
He nods, his eyes still full of emotion and you watch as he begins to walk slowly towards his truck, when suddenly he turns his body to face you but continues to walk backward in the same direction.
âHey!â he calls to you with a mischievous smile, raising his chin to you.
âYeah?â you answer, your voice wavering slightly as you try to hide your smile.
âCan I take you to dinner sometime?â he asks as he reaches for his driverâs door and opens it, waiting for your answer, which never comes because you think heâs joking. But he continues to stare at you, with no expectations, quietly, earnestly, sincerely, with a soft, shy smile on his lips. Oh.
Oh.
âJoel..â is all you breathe out, closing your eyes for a moment before you look at him again, because his name is all that is left in your very being right now. Joel.
He seems lighter, too.
âMaybe, one day..?â
âYeah.. Maybe, one day..â
previous |
Taglist: @southernbe, @orcasoul, @auteurdelabre @leggtostandon @sarahhxx03
@zliteraturehoe @msmorningstaarr @gossipgirl-03 @vabeachazn @joeldjarin
@sofiparallel
342 notes
·
View notes