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bosbas · 6 months

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Chapter 8: no one wanted to play with me as a little kid

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pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.4k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love (sort of. it's like pre idiots in love. on the cusp of idiots in love), fluff (so much fluff)

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: you know what. let's pretend all of the ages/years make sense. kisses to all of you!

December 4, 1809 - Dearest, loveliest, most wonderful Y/I (your initial),

I am so sorry I have not written in almost two weeks, though I did enjoy the very strongly worded letter you sent me reminding me of this fact and demanding a response. I wish I had a better excuse, but truthfully, this term has just been hectic. But to answer the question you so politely asked: yes, I will be home in time for Christmas, and I will be staying for New Year's and your birthday (your birthday is not even two weeks after Christmas, darling, give me some credit!). Though I rather think you owe me a present instead of the other way around after calling me an oblivious toad.

As an apology for my silence, I've attached my reading list for the courses I am taking at Oxford this term so you can also read them. I am sure you will be able to find them in your library but do let my mother know if you cannot find them. We should also have copies in our library. I will be heading back to Aubrey Hall in ten days to see the lot of you, and I will eagerly be awaiting all of your thoughts on this term's reading.

Yours, B

You couldn't help the excited gasp that left your lips as soon as you were finished reading Benedict's letter. You hadn't even managed to leave your entryway before you hastily opened the envelope addressed to you, blurting out a thank you to your slightly startled butler, who had been taken aback by your eager rifling of the mail.

Now that Benedict was at Oxford, you barely got to see him at all, so you were more than a little excited when you read that you would only have to wait ten more days to see him. The three weeks he was home for the winter holiday were the bulk of your in-person interactions with him for the year, as had been the norm for the past three years he had been at university.

It wasn't all bad, though. Proof of that lay in a box in your bedroom filled with every single letter or note you had received from Benedict while he was away at Oxford. Even the short ones, when he was studying for an exam and barely had time to write a coherent response, had found a place inside your box. You supposed the box contained most of your friendship with Ben over the past three years, neatly organized by date from oldest to newest and separated by term.

Sometimes, you found yourself missing Benedict more than usual, and you would read through your favorite of his letters. Often, it ended up being the shortest notes that were the sweetest and ones you would read over and over. Even years after he had sent the letters, you found comfort in his messy scrawl after an afternoon playing Pall Mall without Benedict and his typical banter. But once you saw him at Aubrey Hall every December, it would be like no time had passed at all. You kept him up to date on everything happening at home with your family and his, and he told you wild stories from his time at Oxford.

And although you enjoyed hearing about his life, it was also bittersweet. You were so jealous of him, wishing more than anything that you could go to university, too. But alas, the pesky issue of your gender prevented you from furthering your education. You got as close as you could, though. Benedict would send you all of his readings every term, and you enjoyed discussing the books you read at length when he returned for the holiday season.

This is not to say that your conversations about literature and art were limited to your in-person time. In fact, most of your correspondence was about the books you were reading or the galleries you had gone to. Ben could spend pages and pages talking about a particular part of a painting, the way the artist had captured the way light filtered through the trees. And you loved every bit of it, engaging in your usual discussions. In a way, if you ignored how much you missed him, it was lovely to have a physical representation of your friendship.

However, you would soon stop being constrained to receiving correspondence from Ben every few days, and you could simply knock on his door if you were particularly interested in talking about an aspect of your book. Your time at Aubrey Hall had become your favorite time of year, three weeks of daily interactions with your best friend being the absolute best birthday present you could've ever asked for.

But this year was different. This was the last time you would have to say goodbye at the end of the holidays, seeing as Benedict was graduating in the spring and returning from Oxford permanently. To say you were over the moon was an understatement. You could barely wait to spend hours in his studio watching him paint again or reading aloud to him under the shade of the tree in your backyard on particularly warm days.

---

August 12, 1799 - Y/I, I thought you would like this one. Yours, B

Bypassing Alex and Anthony having a heated debate about who was better at billiards, Benedict headed straight in your direction across the garden, ignoring Daphne, Colin, Theo, and Bastian, who had been playing some team game that devolved into an argument. Benedict patted your head as he came by to sit beside you on the grass, momentarily drawing your attention away from the massive book on your lap.

Grabbing the book from your lap and transferring it to his own, he asked, "So, what do you think?"

You let out an excited squeal, shaking Benedict's nearest arm with both hands. "It's amazing, Ben! An entire book about flowers, who knew? I've spent hours looking at it already, and I'm not even halfway through! It's got so much information I could die. It's incredible. Thank you so much." Though it was left unsaid, Ben knew these were hours you would have otherwise spent alone. The twins were especially adamant about not having you play with them, and Alex and Anthony were too caught up in their never-ending competitions to pay any attention to you. With your mother and his being occupied with the toddlers, Francesca, Cass, and Eloise, who had only just begun to walk and talk, you and Ben were truly the only odd ones out. But it was no bother to him. He loved when you read aloud to him, and you would happily listen to him talk about his sketches for hours on end, something he could not say about any other member of the Bridgerton-Beaumont cohort.

Ben could only laugh fondly at your excitement, internally very proud that he had found a book you really enjoyed. "It's called an encyclopedia. There are loads of them about just about anything and everything in the world," he told you, leafing through the book himself. Gently pushing the book back in your direction, he prodded, "Well, go on then. Show me your favorite flowers so far."

Grabbing the book, you hastily turned the pages until you reached the flowers, starting with the letter 'd.' Standing up, you rushed to the nearest corner of the garden and dug around for a few seconds, coming back with a bunch of small white flowers clutched in your small hands.

Ben let out a short laugh, but you quickly shushed him, whining, "Stop it! It'll make sense in a second, I promise."

"I didn't say anything!" responded Ben defensively, putting his hands up in the air but unable to conceal the smile you had elicited from him.

"Okay. Look at the page. The daisies. They're also called Bellis perennis, but that's in Latin. We have them here in the garden! Isn't that lovely?" you said excitedly, placing the flowers beside Ben.

"Oh, that is quite nice, Y/N," he responded, picking one of the daisies up and placing it behind your ear, eliciting a bright smile from you. "Did you know that a Violet is a type of flower? And so is a Primrose."

"You mean both our mums have flower names? That's so fun. I wish everyone could have a flower name," you responded, excited to have learned new information.

"You could always give your daughters flower names," Ben suggested, enjoying the pure joy you were getting out of this.

"Well, before I have daughters, I would have to get married. And I don't want to do that! I just want to keep reading books. I want to read every single encyclopedia in the world!" you exclaimed, reaching your arms as high as they could go.

Ben laughed, highly amused by your antics. "Just like me, then. Except instead of reading it's painting," he responded as he laid down fully on the grass, looking up at the sky and feeling particularly thankful that someone understood how he felt. On the other hand, you took the opportunity to dump all of the flowers you had picked onto his torso, arranging and rearranging them into different designs. He could only laugh, not at all bothered that his shirt would surely be dirty now, just happy to watch you enjoy yourself.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, you spoke up as you tried unsuccessfully to stack the flowers on top of each other. "That's perfect, then. We can get married, I can read, and you can paint, and we can have a daughter and give her a flower name."

"That sounds wonderful! I'm glad that's sorted," he laughed, lifting his head to find you flashing a toothy grin. "D'you like the name Daisy for our daughter, then?"

"That's lovely! And you can paint her a painting of a daisy for her room!" you responded eagerly. Benedict hummed in assent, busy imagining the dynamics of a blissful imaginary marriage.

---

January 3, 1810 - Y/I, Happiest of birthdays, darling. Come downstairs, where I have a proper gift and card waiting for you. Yours, B

As you came downstairs, you already feared the fate that awaited you. Every year, your birthday would begin with a very extreme and frankly excessive snowball fight involving all the Bridgerton-Beaumont children. You could trust no one. Alliances would easily crumble under pressure, and people were just as likely to betray their siblings as they would someone from the other family. You and Benedict, ordinarily inseparable, could become sworn enemies in the span of two snowballs. You couldn't even trust sweet Hyacinth, only seven years old, to be loyal to any team, seeing as she was an outstanding double agent, a lesson you had all learned the hard way. It was absolute chaos, and you loved every second of it. It didn't matter how old you were; this was always the best part of your birthday.

As soon as you stepped outside, a snowball the size of your fist hit your right shoulder. Slowly turning toward the perpetrator, you narrowed your eyes once you saw it was Gregory, who had helped you defeat Bastian and Francesca in one fell swoop last year. Clearly, that alliance was gone, and you would have to find someone else to rely on this year.

Since it was your birthday, the fight officially started when you threw the first snowball, and this year, you chose to throw it at Cassandra, your own sister, who had annoyed you at dinner yesterday by incessantly flinging peas at you. Once the tightly packed ball left your hand, all hell broke loose. You were hit in the stomach and leg simultaneously as you fired snowballs in every direction you could, laughing as you did.

You briefly ducked behind a tree trunk, needing a moment to breathe. You took advantage of the fact that you weren't a target to form a massive snowball. You carefully stepped away from behind the trunk, checking that the coast was clear. Without a second thought, you flung the snowball as hard as you could in the direction of the person closest to you.

Unfortunately, it hit Benedict straight in the face, blinding him for a few moments. Your mouth hung open, trying not to laugh because you knew you had packed quite a bit of force into your throw. You ran to Ben's side, apologizing as much as possible without bursting into laughter. He cleared the snow from his eyes and turned to you slowly, an evil grin forming on his face.

"I believe you have just declared war, Miss Beaumont," he said finally.

You screamed and ran in the opposite direction, knowing he would be absolutely merciless. You couldn't even look back, not wanting to slow down. After a few seconds of frantic sprinting, you felt Ben tackling you onto a massive pile of snow. Both of you were laughing hysterically while trying to catch your breath. He turned you over so you were lying down side by side, both of you panting heavily, looking up at the winter sky.

"I miss you," you said finally, turning your head toward him, only to find that he was already looking at you. He pulled you closer, wrapping both arms around you tightly before he helped you up and brushed the snow off of your coat.

"I know. I miss you, too. But it'll only be like this for a short while longer, and then you can come round every day and read to me while I paint, yeah?" he said, lifting your chin to look at him.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt your heartbeat quicken, his brown eyes not letting yours go. Your eyes flickered to his mouth briefly, your lips parting slightly. Looking back at his eyes, you saw something flash in them that you couldn't quite parse, an expression you hadn't seen before. Finally, you nodded, letting him pull you into him and kiss your forehead, enjoying the warmth and comfort you felt as you were wrapped tightly in his arms.

---

September 17, 1805 - Y/I, I can't believe you had a book about the exact artist I was talking about! I'll pop by yours later to say a proper thank you. Yours, B

Benedict walked into your sitting room, sprawling on the couch before you with his arm behind his head, silently waiting for you to look up from your book. But you had just gotten to an exciting part, and your eyes remained glued to the page, ignoring your best friend's attempt to get your attention.

You heard him huff and muttered a soft "Just a second, Ben" as your eyes raced across the page, eager to know what happened next. In response, he slid further down the couch and crossed his arms, eliciting a laugh from you and finally drawing you away from your book.

"You were barely waiting ten seconds, Benedict!" you exclaimed, secretly pleased he was so eager to see you. He was leaving for Oxford in a few weeks, and although you were trying not to think about the reality of him going, you were acutely aware that you would soon be unable to see him every day.

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, responding with a teasing, "It felt like ten years!"

In recent months, the two of you had become inseparable. Your days were spent reading next to him as he painted, listening to him talk about his most recent artworks, or going for nature walks if you found yourself in Aubrey Hall. Anything to keep him close by before he left for Oxford, you reasoned. Though you couldn't help the growing affection, you were feeling, finding it impossible to look away when he tousled his hair just so and being a bit too pleased every time he complimented you. Every handsome smile or cheeky wink he sent your way lit you up inside, melting your heart just a little bit.

The problem was, and of course, there was a problem, that Benedict was always like this. Nothing about his demeanor had changed; your friendship was still the same as it had always been. Except now you found yourself spending a little too much time in the mornings making sure your hair looked good in case he popped by unannounced. Regardless, you knew Ben did not reciprocate your affections, so you tried to ignore these feelings as best as you could, folding them up very small and tucking them neatly in the corner of your heart for later examination.

Now, you found yourself on a couch against a wall of Benedict's studio, reading Romeo and Juliet as he was quietly sketching. This was quite possibly your favorite thing to do. Spend quiet afternoons together, reading and painting, enjoying each other's company. You took a moment to look at him as he scrunched his nose, unhappy with a certain aspect of the sketch.

He sighed and looked up at you, nodding toward your book. "What has Shakespeare got to say today?"

"That marriage is a death sentence," you replied, voice deadpan.

Ben burst into laughter. "Oh, come off it. It can't be that bad in real life. That's only a play! Besides, you've still got a while before you have to think about that," he tried to reason with you.

"Well, maybe. But it just sounds so unappealing. I want to do this. What we're doing now. I want to keep doing it. I don't want to be a wife! I just want to read and study," you argued.

Benedict stood up, coming to sit beside you and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I know, darling. I'm sorry," but he knew you had more to say.

You groaned, pushing your forehead into his shoulder. "I just don't think I'll ever be happy if I'm forced to marry. And I most likely will be, knowing my mother. She'd rather die than have one of her daughters turn into a spinster," you huffed, missing the sympathetic look you got from Ben. "And who will my husband be? A clueless man with no interest in me beyond my ability to be a good wife? I cannot imagine a worse fate."

---

May 8, 1810 - Y/I, I'll keep this one short, seeing how I'll be properly back in a few days! I've been quite busy with graduation, but I'm excited to come home. Yours, B

You smiled as you placed the last letter you had received from Benedict back in your box. The collection was complete. Three years of correspondence between the two of you finally come to an end. You carefully closed the box and returned downstairs, where a big family gathering was occurring in the garden.

As soon as you stepped outside, Ben was at your side, chatting your ear off about one thing or another. He had barely left you alone since he had been back, granting you only a few minutes to yourself, but you couldn't complain. You wrapped an arm around his torso as you walked back to the garden table.

"Oh, you look so darling!" cried Violet, cooing at the two of you.

"You're proper adults now! Both of you! How the time has passed," your mother added, reaching out to hold Violet's hand.

Benedict could only smile, too happy to be back at your side to focus on anything else. He had missed you loads while he was at Oxford, but having your arm around him now, he realized just how much he needed you. Ben placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, unable to help himself as you sat down at the table. He sat right next to you, taking one of your hands into his own so he could play with your fingers as you chatted with Primrose and Violet.

Oxford had been a riot, to be sure, but he was so glad to come home to you.

—

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andreafmn · 5 months

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12 Days of Ficmas ❅ Day 1

Word Count: 4.8K Paring: Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader Prompt @alloftheprompts: Character A and Character B broke up but now they meet at a Christmas party.

Summary: In unpredictable Beacon Hills, Stiles and (Y/N) being together was one of the only things that made sense. But sometimes the smallest of changes can create the biggest of chaos. And a simple college admission letter can do just that. Maybe all it takes is the right Christmas gift to make things better.

A/N: yup, that's right, I'm doing 12 Days of Ficmas again (even if I haven't finished Kinktober 🫣🫣 but I am nothing if not a masochist (and a slight procrastinator) But enjoy!! This story actually made me tear up, honestly. But it wouldn't be one of my stories if there wasn't an insane amount of angst 😅 Also, disclaimer, I have not seen the last two seasons of Teen Wolf or the movie so, sorry for any inconsistencies.

Next ->

“Let’s just get this over with,” (Y/N) sighed as she fixed the Santa hat on top of her head. “They don’t have to know yet.”

“Yeah,” Stiles grimaced. “It’s better to wait until after the holidays, I guess.”

It was the first time Stiles and (Y/N) had ever been terrified to enter Scott’s house and face all of their friends. Even worse, they had to pretend everything was fine between them.

Since they were little, the pair had been inseparable. Being next-door neighbors allowed them to grow close at a rapid pace. It was in her that he found solace on the nights his mother’s illness would take the best of her mind. He would run over to her house and climb the lattice that ran all the way up to her room.

And she wouldn’t ask questions. (Y/N) would simply let him in through her window and distract him until he eventually drifted off to sleep. She did not need any explanations or reasons to comfort Stiles. She simply knew he needed her, and so she was there for him. Because if there was anything she knew of, it was the pain of slowly losing a parent.

They shared a bond that no one could break. Even as Scott entered their duo and they became the perfect trio, Stiles and (Y/N) shared a connection like no other. So, it came as no surprise to anyone when they got together. Even after Stiles had continuously professed his love for Lydia. Even after (Y/N) and Boyd had a quick fling. Everyone knew that it would be the two of them at the end of the day.

What no one expected was that one day, they wouldn’t be Stiles and (Y/N) anymore. Hell, not even they had seen it coming.

Their downfall had begun the second week of December. For some reason, the couple had not spoken about what happened after high school. In their senior year, they were focusing on the present, leaving the future where it was. Because what they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them.

(Y/N) had applied under early action to various colleges, thinking nothing of it. But there was one college that had been her dream since her father had passed, and that was her only early decision application. She had worked every day since to make sure she was at least close to being accepted. But it was never a sure thing.

She had promised herself to put it in the back of her mind. Stressing over that envelope would only drive her into madness. As much as she wanted it to be true, she knew the reality of the situation. The chances she could ever get in, much less with a full ride, were slim to none. And hoping only made things worse.

Still, that hadn’t stopped her from applying; it hadn’t stopped her from wishing.

“Honey,” her mother had said one afternoon after she got home from school. “Look what came in the mail.”

In her hands, there was a white manila envelope with blue lettering that clearly read: University of Oxford.

(Y/N) could have sworn she could feel her heart in her throat, beating at an unnatural pace and threatening to leap out of her body. She crossed the distance between her front door to the kitchen faster than she had ever done before, needing to feel the paper in her hands. Only seeing it was not proof enough that it was real.

“I don’t think I can open it,” the girl worried. “What if it’s bad, mom?”

“You won’t know unless you see, my darling,” she smiled softly. “But no matter what, you will still be the most impressive young lady I have known. And any college would be lucky to have you.”

With trembling hands, she broke open the envelope and pulled out a beautiful and crisp piece of white paper. “Dear (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” she read before taking a steadying breath. “It is with greatest pleasure that we inform you that the Admissions Comittee has decided to offer you admission to Oxford University through our binding Early Decision (ED) option on a full scholarship.”

As (Y/N) read those words, tears spilled from her eyes, and the papers fell from her hands. Her mother wrapped her arms tightly around her, showering her with words of love and encouragement. It had been everything she had worked for. Something not even the supernaturals of the world could take from her.

“You’re going to Oxford, baby girl,” her mother cooed. “I knew you could. Your dad would have been just as proud as I am.”

That moment should have been the happiest in her life so far. But there was a dark cloud that lingered over her as she celebrated. She had not told anyone she was applying to a college so far away, much less the reason she would be doing so. Mostly because she was terrified she wouldn’t get in. But part of her knew it was because she was leaving all her friends behind, leaving Stiles behind. And that was the hardest part.

For the rest of the week, as she celebrated internally, she hid the biggest news of her life from all of her friends and the boy she had deemed the love of her life. Anyone would have thought she was the one harboring a secret supernatural life with the way she was guarding her secret. And, maybe it shouldn’t have been something she kept to herself. Maybe they would have all been excited for her and understood the reason for the distance. But something deep in her stopped her every single time.

If her friends had noticed there was anything different from her demeanor, they didn’t say a thing. In the midst of final exams and the Christmas holidays soon approaching, everyone seemed to be stuck in their own heads. So, if they were in their heads, they couldn’t know there was something happening in hers.

But that Friday night, at the same hour Stiles would always sneak in, (Y/N) knew there was no way she could continue to hide her secret any longer.

“Come on,” he chuckled as he jumped onto her bed, holding his arms open. “Tell me what’s going on with you.”

“What do you mean?” she said, forcing a smile. “Why do you say that?”

“You know you can’t lie to me. I may not have super hearing, but I can tell, (Y/N).”

“Yeah,” she chuckled softly. “You know me too well.”

“Of course I do,” he smiled as he crossed the distance between them and caressed the softness of her cheek. “Now, please, tell me what’s wrong?”

That was it. That was the moment that had changed them, the moment that had broken them.

(Y/N) took a steadying breath and took his hands in hers, focusing on the veins on his hands rather than his worried eyes. “I got a letter last week,” she started with a sigh. “I told you about all the colleges I had applied to as early action.”

“Of course, you bright mind, you,” he said. “Did you already start getting the acceptance letters?”

“Uh, there’s another college I actually applied to. Early decision.”

“Like binding early decision?”

“Yeah, exactly,” she said, her voice trembling as she spoke. “I, uh, I applied to the University of Oxford. And I got in.”

Instead of embracing her, Stiles dropped her hands, taking a step away from her. “In England?” he asked as though he was offended. “Why would you wanna go that far?”

“It’s not about the distance,” she grimaced, finally meeting his hurt eyes. “It’s about what that school means. That’s where my dad went to school. That’s the place my parents met. That was the school that started my entire life, Stiles.”

“So, why didn’t you tell me about it? If it was so damn important, why did you never mention it?” Stiles seethed, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “You wanna start a new life, is that it? Follow in your parents’ footsteps and meet the love of your life there? Great, (Y/N). And you made sure you did it in a way you couldn’t back out.”

“Stiles, that’s not…”

“So, what? Were you gonna wait until graduation to tell me that you were moving halfway across the world to get away from us? From me?” the boy cried. “Or were you simply going to disappear and start a new life without telling anyone? But I guess that’s your thing now, huh? Keeping big shit like this until you can’t anymore.”

“That’s not fair, Stiles,” she frowned, hugging her arms tightly across her torso. “I didn’t want to get my hopes up, so I didn’t say anything. That doesn’t mean that I would have never told you about it. I’m not looking to escape. I’m looking to start my future.”

“And it looks like you were starting it without me then,” he croaked. “What does that mean for us, (Y/N)? We ride it out until graduation, and then you leave for the rest of your life?”

“I don’t… you wanna b-break up?”

“It’s inevitable now, isn’t it?” Stiles said in a tone that broke her more than the words he was speaking. “You’re gonna be in England, and I’m gonna be god knows where. It’s better just to do it now.”

That night was nothing like she had imagined it would be. She had hoped Stiles would have been excited for her and promised her everything would be alright. That somehow he would have the answers to how they could withstand so much distance because they had to make it. Out of everyone in their friend group, those two had to make it.

Instead, it had taken a turn for the worse. One second, Stiles was standing before her with a smile on his face, and the next, he was leaving through her window with tears streaming down his face. What she had most been dreading was that scenario to play out, and a week before their friend’s holiday party, it had. They had gone through life-threatening and mind-boggling situations, but it was a college acceptance letter that broke them apart.

The coming days (Y/N) spent buried in bed. Although she should have been celebrating one of her biggest achievements –other than saving lives and defeating many, many creatures– she had wasted more tears during that time than she had done the past years of her life. She was distraught and defeated, and she had no idea how she would make it through the last semester of high school, much less how she would have made it through a Christmas party.

Somehow, they had arrived at Scott’s house at the same time, even after she had made sure she left twenty minutes after Stiles. The universe liked to play its mean tricks, but that one was almost unforgivable.

“Let’s just try to stay out of each other’s way,” he grimaced. “The less we are near each other, the harder it’ll be for them to find out.”

“Harder to find out what?” Scott asked as he swung the front door open, his signature goofy grin stretched across his mouth. Instinctively, Stiles draped his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders and smiled brightly. “Ooh, did you bring your brownies, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “Still warm from the oven.”

“Wouldn’t be a party without them,” Stiles commented. “Now, let us in. It’s kinda cold out tonight.”

The second they were inside, Stiles broke for the living room while (Y/N) moved to the kitchen with Scott. She set the tray on the overfilled kitchen island, noticing to the side that the dinner table was perfectly set up. “Oh, the table looks nice,” she commented. “But I thought we’d be doing something more low-key.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled awkwardly. “Lydia thought it’d be fun to do a more grown-up dinner party.”

“Yeah. Place settings and everything.”

“We were waiting for you guys to start eating,” he said. “We’re doing gifts after.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Slowly, the rest of the group trickled into the kitchen, greeting and hugging (Y/N) as they looked over all the food and served themselves their plates. And, of course, her seat was right next to Stiles’. Even if she had wanted to sit anywhere else, the rest had already taken their assigned seats, and the only open spot was the one that had her name.

She gave her ex-boyfriend a small smile, looking anywhere but into the brown of his eyes. Her heart beat against her chest, threatening to jump out of her body. It made her fidgety as everyone ate, thinking any of the wereanimals around her would be able to tell how she was feeling.

But Scott was laughing with Stiles, Malia was talking to Lydia, and Hayden, Liam, and Mason had their own conversation running. (Y/N) was all by herself. She was surrounded by all the people she loved, but it was the loneliest she had felt in a long time. Without the usual comforting words from Stiles, she couldn’t help but feel so out of place. It was the happiest time of the year, but the girl was miserable, and it hurt that it didn’t seem like the boy she loved was sad as well.

“Alright,” Lydia spoke up as everyone ignored their mostly empty plates. “Now that our bellies are full, I think it’s time for Secret Santa! And I truly hope you all kept it a secret this time.”

“Not that it’d matter anyway,” Liam chuckled. “We all know we ask for help every time.”

“Anyways,” she said, ignoring the soft laughter that erupted from the group. “Let’s go to the living room, and (Y/N) you’ll go first.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” she smiled as she followed the group into the living room. She crouched under the decorated Christmas tree, pulling out the gift that had been there for almost two weeks. “I got Lydia.”

“How wonderful!” the redhead mused, quick to hug her friend and rip away the wrapping paper. Inside the gift box was a mosaic picture of Lydia, Allison, and (Y/N), the first time they had finally considered each other friends. “Oh, it’s beautiful! I wish I could take it with me everywhere.”

“It was hard to get it just right, but I loved how it turned out.”

“It’s perfect, (Y/N),” she beamed. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I love you, Lids.”

“Love you too,” the girl said as she wrapped her friend in a tighter hug. “My turn!”

Lydia had gifted Liam nine books out of his TBR list —nine because of his lacrosse number. Then, Liam gifted Scott a new leather jacket so he could “actually look cool when riding his motorcycle,” Liam snickered. Scott then gifted Malia a light blue hoodie to add to her ever-growing collection, while Malia gifted Hayden a journal and pen set, saying it was for when her mind felt too busy. After a warm smile and a hug, she announced her gift was for Mason, laughing as he pulled out an ugly cat sweater. Once the loud laughter subsided, Mason gifted Stiles a massage mat for his Jeep.

“For when you’re taking really long drives,” the boy smiled, clearly proud of himself. “There’s quite some distance between here and D.C. It’ll come in handy.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled as he hugged Mason. “Thanks, man. It’s great.”

“Don’t mention it.”

As Mason sat back down, Stiles cleared his throat as he pulled the last gift. Everyone knew by then who it was for. There was no one else left. “Well, I guess you all know who this is for,” he said. “I hope you like it, (Y/N).”

The girl received the bag with a soft smile, trying her best to swallow the tears that were threatening to spill. She had forgotten for a second how cruel the universe could be. She pulled out the white tissue paper first before finding a beautiful brown bear dressed in a blue knit sweater. Around its neck, there was a necklace with something she could only assume was a soundwave. With curiosity washing over her, she looked to Stiles for an explanation.

“Uh, so, it’ll make a lot more sense if you press the bear’s hand,” he stammered. Once she died as told, the sound broke her. From deep in the belly of the teddy bear, her father’s voice rang out, singing the words of “You Are My Sunshine.” There was not a single night when she was little that her father didn’t sing that to her, and even as she grew old for the lullaby, he would call her sunshine. “I got a recording from your mom of your dad singing the song when you were a baby,” Stiles spoke over the music. “And the necklace is the image of the soundwave of your dad calling you sunshine.”

Tears had long since fallen down her cheeks, clutching the bear in her arms as though it was her own father. With her eyes closed, it was almost as though he was right there, singing to her. But it was what came after the song that shattered her. “You’re gonna do great things, (Y/N),” her father said through the bear. “I love you forever, my little sunshine.”

At that moment, all she wanted to do was hug Stiles and kiss him like she had done a million times before. That was the boy she had fallen in love with. The one that cared and listened. The one that had made her heart race and her stomach turn into butterflies. She wanted to tell him she loved him and never let him go, but she couldn’t. Just like she could never do with her father.

“I, uh,” she said as she stood from the couch, feeling as though she would faint in the crowded room. “I need some air.”

(Y/N) stammered her way out of the living room and through the front door, only allowing herself to break down when she was at the end of the driveway. She fell to her knees and hugged the bear to her chest as she cried, letting the hurt that had accumulated over the years spill onto the pavement. In less than six months, she was going to walk into a new life halfway across the globe without the support of her father and now, without the support of Stiles. All alone.

She should have been celebrating. She knew that. She should have been crying tears of joy and jumping into her love’s arms. Instead, it was the bear’s arms that she could feel. The softness of its fur, the sound of her father’s voice.

Without even realizing it, she had begun singing along to the lullaby, sniffling between words as the tears didn’t relent. “You’re gonna do great things, (Y/N),” her father said once more through the bear. “I love you forever, my little sunshine.”

“I love you too, dad,” she cried.

“Hey,” his voice startled her. Through teary eyes, she looked up to find Stiles draping a jacket over her shoulders. He slid to the ground next to her, facing the house before them as she was now. “I’m sorry. I bought the gift weeks ago, and I wasn’t sure if I was still allowed to give it to you.”

“No, it was… i-it was perfect,” she stammered, running her hand over the bear’s fur. “It’s just everything rushed over me. Like the breakup, the fact that I won’t be here next year, the fact that my dad won’t even see me gradua…”

Another string of sobs ransacked (Y/N)’s body, but that time it wasn’t the bear she was hugging. Stiles had wrapped his arms around her, pressing her into his chest. She could smell his cologne and feel his warmth, a feeling she had missed for the past seven days. All she wanted was to melt into his touch and profess to him all that she felt. But she couldn’t. Not anymore. Because he didn’t want it.

“I didn’t want things to be this way,” she cried into his chest. “I didn’t want everything to fall apart.”

Stiles remained quiet as she cried, a hard feat for someone like him. But he let her cry and cry until only quiet sniffles filled the air. Because he hadn’t wanted things to be that way either.

He knew he had overreacted. When he had told (Y/N) his plans of enrolling in George Washington University all the way across the county, she had told him they could make it work. Especially if she got into any of the ivy leagues she had applied to on the East Coast. It had been fine. Hell, it had been perfect.

But when she told him that she wouldn’t just be a couple of states away but that she would be on another continent, he couldn’t help but let his abandonment issues take control.

He knew she was brilliant. He knew she deserved to do and be all that she had dreamed. But he feared that once she achieved all of her goals, he would just not fit into her life anymore.

“You’re gonna go on to do great things, (Y/N),” he sighed sadly as her tears stopped. “You’re gonna go to Oxford, just like your parents, and you’re gonna probably graduate at the top of your class on your way. And I’ll be here —well, in Washington, technically—cheering you on.”

“But why couldn’t we be great together, Stiles? We couldn’t we both go on to do great things, together?”

“Come on, (Y/N). Once you’re there, you’re gonna meet so many people, and you’ll have guys falling on their knees for you,” he chuckled dryly. “I won’t fit into your new world. I mean, you said it yourself: that’s where your parents met and your life began. And now, maybe you’ll have a new beginning. And years from today, we’ll run into each other, and you’ll tell me about your job and your husband and your kids, and I’ll be so happy for you. Because you serve all the love and happiness in the world, even if it’s without me.”

“Have you even asked yourself if that’s what I want?” (Y/N) asked as she left his warm embrace, her red eyes boring into his. “I’m not leaving because I’m searching for a new life. I want to go to Oxford because it’s one of the last things I can share with my dad. I can walk down the same halls he did, I can take classes in the same classrooms, and eat at the same places he did. But I was always going to come back, Stiles. Because my friends are here, my mom is here, because you are here. I don’t want to run into you and talk about another man or the kids I would have with him. I don’t want to run into you at all. I want to walk beside you, Stiles. If I ever have kids, it’s only if they’re a part of you too,” she cried, fresh tears falling down her already-stained cheeks. “If you don’t love me anymore, then fine. I can understand that, and I can walk away. But don’t you dare say that you wouldn’t fit into my life because you’ve been there longer than anyone I know, and I need you to be there until the end. Because I already lost someone important to me and I can’t lose you too. Not you.”

“(Y/N), I don’t want to lose you either,” he sobbed. “But how can we fight with the distance? How could we ever withstand the fact that we’ll be an ocean away?”

“We have gone through worse battles than a plane ride, Stiles. We have been on the brink of death more times this past year than any person would in their lifetime. Do you really think being in a different time zone is the limit to our relationship? I know the future isn’t promised but you were the one person I always knew would be there.”

“I’m scared, okay?! I’m scared that you’ll meet someone better than me, (Y/N). I’m terrified that you’ll realize that maybe I’m not the guy that can give you your happy ever after,” he finally confessed. His voice croaked, and his chest heaved as the words fell out of his mouth faster than he could ever stop them. “This week has been torture without you. But it’s made me realize that Beacon Hills has always been too small for you. After May, you’re gonna go out there and find your place. And this town will be nothing but a memory you’ll come back to.”

“There is no one better for me than you, Stiles, and Beacon Hills will always be my home,” she replied softly. Her cold hand found his cheek, and she wiped away his tears with her thumb. “I don’t want to know a life where you’re not there. You can’t give up on us without even trying, Stiles. You just can’t.”

Without thinking twice, (Y/N) crashed her lips onto his, sinking into the warmth of his mouth. After a week, kissing him felt like the very first time. It was desperate and filled with need —the need for closeness and passion, the need for love. Instinctively, Stiles’ hands found her waist and pulled her closer to him, wondering how he ever thought he could live without her touch.

“I love you, Stiles, and I don’t even want to think about ever having to love someone else,” she whispered as she parted from him. “My heart belongs to you. And if this is the end, it’ll still remain in your hands.”

“I couldn’t love anyone else like I love you, (Y/N),” he replied with a soft smile. “But I just can’t help the thoughts that flood my brain sometimes.”

“Then don’t listen to them and listen to me when I say that since the moment I met you, I’ve known you were it for me. There is no other man waiting for me in Oxford. It’s you, and it will always be you,” (Y/N) said before kissing him softly once more. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me, Stiles Stilinski, and you’re the only thing that I want to keep happening to me.”

“I can’t believe I ever broke up with you. Especially during Christmas,” Stiles chuckled as he rested his forehead against hers, flicking the tip of her nose with his own. “It was honestly the worst week of my life.”

“Including being possessed?” Scott’s voice startled them as he came into view. “Although, I get it because this was completely avoidable.”

(Y/N) chuckled as she took Scott’s extended hand and got on her feet, wiping away any tears that still remained. “Did you hear that whole thing?”

“More or less,” he chuckled. “It’s a bit hard not to when I was coming to see if you guys were okay.”

“We’re good now, Scotty,” Stiles grinned. “Just had some unresolved feelings to work, though.”

“Can you not mention the whole thing about the breakup? I don’t wanna make it a whole thing.”

“That’s a bit hard, (Y/N),” Malia called from the open front door. “We all kind of already know.”

“Oh, cool, great,” she said as she hid in Stile’s embrace. “That’s not embarrassing at all.”

“Eh, at least our parents are back together,” Liam commented. “Best Christmas present.”

“It really is, huh?” Stiles whispered as he kissed the top of her head.

“Yes. Very cute and adorable,” Lydia added in a desperate tone. “Now, can we go back inside before Hayden and Mason finish all the brownies?”

As the group walked back into the house, Stiles and (Y/N) shared one more moment together on the front porch. “Hey, look up,” Stiles said with a smile. “Mistletoe.”

“Funny that they’d hang that at a werewolf's home,” she chuckled. “Although, I’m pretty sure that one’s plastic.”

“And I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to kiss me.”

“Maybe I’m waiting for another guy to kiss under the plant.” Stiles frowned at her words, and all she could do was laugh. “Too soon?”

“Much,” he said. “Now, come here.”

He snaked his hands on either side of her face and kissed her passionately. He kissed her for every day they had spent apart. He kissed her for every hurtful word he had spewed. He kissed her as a promise of his love for her. Stiles kissed her like she was his future.

Next ->

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lgbtpopcult · 8 months

Text

October 2024 wlw entertainment rundown

youtube

Lucky My Love, First episode drops October 28th on YouTube

youtube

Everything Now, Netflix, October 5

youtube

The Fall of the House of Usher, October 12, 2023

Movies

youtube

Tripped Up, October 20,

Books, Games, Music etc.

In A World Of Our Own: Chasing Dreams And Love

Sophia Miller, an openly lesbian supermodel, enjoys her solitary life in the bustling heart of New York City. But when her gay millionaire best friend, Chris Anderson, requests her to play his pretend girlfriend for a family gathering in Texas, she can't refuse. After all, Chris is on the brink of becoming the CEO of the billion-dollar Anderson Corp.

Enter Alissa Anderson, the Oxford and Cambridge-educated, closeted lesbian daughter of the conservative and formidable Henry Anderson. With the CEO position at Anderson Corp now up for grabs, Alissa finds herself in a fierce rivalry with her own brother. Ascending to the top of the family business and shattering traditional gender roles has always been her ultimate dream. However, her well-laid plans begin to unravel when she encounters her brother's "girlfriend" at a pivotal family gathering on their Texas ranch.

When Sophia and Alissa's worlds collide at the Anderson estate, everything is on the line: the coveted CEO position, concealed sexual identities, a sham relationship, and a burgeoning real one that threatens to bloom amidst the chaos.

“Sushi for Empress Setsuko” is a cozy and comedic point & click adventure game and yuri dating sim set in a fantastical Japan-inspired land. Follow Mizumi Nagashima as she travels around the Empire, seeing gorgeous views, catching delicious fish, and charming beautiful women.

RELEASE DATE:

3 Oct, 2023

Iris Kelly Doesn't Date

A fake relationship after a horrible one-night stand is anything but an act in this witty and heartfelt new romantic comedy by Ashley Herring Blake.

Everyone around Iris Kelly is in love. Her best friends are all coupled up, her siblings have partners that are perfect for them, and her parents are still blissfully married. And she’s happy for all of them, truly. Iris doesn’t want any of that—dating, love, romance. She’ll stick to her commitment-free hookups, thanks very much, except no one in her life will just let her be. Everyone wants to see her settled down, but she holds firmly to her no dating rule. There’s only one problem—Iris is a romance author facing an imminent deadline for her second book, and she’s completely out of ideas.

Perfectly happy to ignore her problems as per usual, Iris goes to a bar in Portland and meets a sexy stranger, Stefania, and a night of dancing and making out turns into the worst one-night stand Iris has had in her life. To get her mind off everything, Iris tries out for the lead role in a local play, a queer retelling of Much Ado About Nothing, but comes face-to-face with Stefania, whose real name turns out to be Stevie. Desperate to save face in front of her friends, Stevie asks Iris to play along as her girlfriend. Iris is shocked, but when she realizes the arrangement might provide her with some much-needed romantic content for her book, she agrees. As the two women play the part of a happy couple, lines start to blur, and they’re left wondering who will make the real first move....

Moonlight in Garland is a cozy open-ended life-sim video game that sees you making a new life in the bustling metropolis of Garland. Find an apartment and make it perfectly yours, befriend your neighbours, grow your urban garden, solve community problems and experience all the weirdly wonderful stuff that city living offers.

Of course, city life isn’t all farmers markets and fancy coffee. Will you step in to stop the heritage building from being torn down and preserve a piece of history? Look after the neighbourhood so more residents stick around? Figure out which jerk is stealing packages from the mail room? Be swept up in a whirlwind romance along the way?

138 notes · View notes

mistydeyes · 10 months

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summary: You and Kyle are no longer two small kids running around in the flower garden, you've graduated and he's a Sergeant. Despite being each other's childhood love, you haven't spoken in years. What happens when life forces you back together again?

pairing: Gaz x childhood love! fem!Reader

warnings: swearing, alcoholism, mentions of grief/depression

a/n: this is it, we are at the end! thank you to all who have shown this series love and I hope you enjoy :)

🏷️ @the-faceless-bride @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @justmare @crunchlite @sofasoap

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After Kyle's offer to spend the holiday, you stopped responding completely. Something about him saddened you. Whenever you picked up your phone to text, you were overcome by an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. When Kyle went back to university, you politely called his mother. "I know this sounds harsh but please tell Kyle not to visit me, it's too hard to see him right now," you spoke shakily. She tried to protest but you pleaded with her to follow your request. "Okay, Y/N, but please you have to see him sometime," and with that, she hung up the phone.

For the next five years, you would never see Kyle again. In the fall of 2015, you received word that he was graduating. Apparently, he had done so at the top of his class. His parents offered you the opportunity to come but you refused. Instead, you sent a bouquet of mountain laurel (ambition), purple cornflower (strength and health), coronilla (success crowns your wishes), and eucalyptus (protection). Weeks later, he texted saying he missed you and with a thank you for the bouquet. As you saw his smiling face with your bouquet in hand, you couldn't help but feel a piercing sense of sadness.

At the end of the school year, you left sixth form and were granted admission to the prestigious University of Oxford. No one thought you could do it but you were revived by the notification of your acceptance that November. You quietly went through the declaration of a major, deciding on Classics and English. Delilah's parents made sure you had the proper financials to attend and offered to manage the shop and home while you were 2 hours away in Oxford. By now, Lila was 20 and able to fully run the shop on her own. You fought with yourself over this decision before Delilah's parents sat you down and told you that you were going. You trusted them and they pushed you to leave, far away from your small town with shattered memories.

The next three years were uneventful, uni was divided into three terms and you would always return to your empty home during holiday. You took solace when you were at home and went about helping Lila with the store. Lila helped you when you needed her most. She kept you updated as you read your book assignments in your flat and collected the mail for you in your absence. As she promised, whenever you arrived home, there would be a pile of mail waiting for you. You would flip through the junk mail until you always found a postcard or letter addressed to you. Sometimes it was from the Garricks, wishing you well and hoping you would visit Manchester sometime. The other half of the time were letters from Kyle. When you were in sixth form, the letters were angry. He was hurt that you pushed him away and begged for you to talk to him. He asked why you stopped calling and told his mother to never visit. Once you transitioned to Uni, there were letters reminiscing over old memories and some updates on how he was doing. One time, you received a letter saying, "I did it, Y/N. I set a record," and you knew this was about his dream of joining the prestigious SAS. This letter sat on top of another card. Upon your graduation, he sent you a congratulations card with it. Inside it read,

"An old buddy of mine had a sibling graduate from Oxford and I saw your name in the program. Congratulations, flower girl! Just know that my family and your mum are so proud of you. Write me back when you get this!"

As you read the card, a part of you wanted to reply. You even went too far as to rummage some old stationery from your mum's room. However, when you went to write something on the page, you couldn't bring yourself to. And so in a vicious cycle, you always told yourself you would write or text back but the letters kept piling up in a drawer. Eventually, 4 years passed and you were home again, a degree and the forgotten pile of letters waiting for you.

In all reality, your Classics and English degree just offered you a distraction. You know we're working full-time to expand your mother's business. Both you and Lila had expanded to primarily online orders and offered shipping overseas. Your mother would be proud to see what a businesswoman you were.

That May you were helping Lila prepare a large order for a baby shower. You threw around baby's breath and wisterias for everlasting love and a welcoming invitation. She fashioned a crown out of the stems and presented it to you. "For my queen of the flowers," she said and you let out a hearty laugh. Lila had become like your older sister these last few years as was the only one who made you laugh like this. "Why thank you, madame," you said and bowed in return. As you began to clean up, you noticed your phone had lit up with a new voicemail. You leaned over and saw it was from Kyle. You could feel your face grow pale at the icon.

"Um Lila, I'll be right back," you said before pushing the backdoor open. You felt the warm afternoon sun on your face as you stared at your phone. You wrestled with the idea of answering it. Based on his last few correspondences, he was pleading for an answer but respected your wishes to not see him until you were ready. You sighed as you clicked the voicemail box.

"You have 1 NEW MESSAGE. Hey, Y/N it's been a while," you could hear him start to say. He sounded older, no longer having the squeaky voice like before. You couldn't imagine what he looked like now. "I know you said to give you time but I just wanted to call, it's been like what? Five years now. Anyways, I don't know what you've been up to or if this is even still your number but I'm back indefinitely. I'll be working in London so just call if you want to meet up. I could even come out to the country for some lemonade. I miss you and," you listened attentively to the last three words. "I love you."

You were a coward. Despite his message, you never responded. Just like the letters, seeing Kyle was too difficult. It was an insurmountable feat. You thought too much time had passed since you last spoke and he was a completely different person now. You drank yourself to sleep as you tried to force all memory of him out of your mind. Kyle deserved the best, better than you and your sad life could ever offer him. He left you another voicemail that you never listened to.

In October, you invited Lila over for some wine and butternut squash soup. You both formed a routine of weekly dinners and drinks. Eventually, you both settled up on the couch to flip the channels. News broke of the attack at Piccadilly later that evening. You both sat discussing plans for the upcoming autumn collection when you were interrupted by an emergency broadcast.

"What the hell?" you said as your eyes began to read the words on the screen. it notified the public of a situation at the Piccadilly Circus in London and your heart sank.

"Oh my god, all those people," Lila said and clasped her hands tightly together. Your ears started to ring as you remembered, Kyle, Kyle is in SAS, Kyle is in the SAS unit in London, KYLE IS IN LONDON. You fumbled for your phone as Lila spoke but you couldn't hear her. I have to make some calls.

You ran into the kitchen, leaving voicemail upon voicemail for him but to no avail. You silently cursed to yourself for never to returning his calls or letters. What if he was there? What if he got caught in the ensuing attack? Your mind flooded with worry as you dialed his mother. When she picked up you shouted, "Is he okay?" "We don't know dear but we'll keep you updated," she said and in the background, you could hear her husband attempting to find their son through emergency services. "I know we haven't spoken in a while," you swallowed, "but if you hear from him, tell him that I love him."

That night you couldn't sleep. You checked your phone constantly in hopes of receiving any good news. Around midnight, your phone buzzed with a text. It was from Kyle's dad, "His captain says he is safe but he's been reassigned, says we won't be hearing from him anytime soon." You sighed in relief but the text was cryptic. As you lay in bed, you wondered where the hell Kyle was going.

Weeks passed as London recovered, you checked the news constantly for updates and talked to Kyle's parents daily. Apparently, it wasn't a surprise to not hear from him for months on end. You felt guilty as you wished you stayed in touch for their sake. In all these years, you forgot that he was their son too and they had both lost their parents.

While they returned to civilian life, you were wracked with guilt as you plucked flowers from the greenhouse. This was your newest addition to the home and it housed flowers that were difficult to harvest in the fall and winter months. As you gently cut delicate periwinkles and daffodils and added them to the basket, you sighed at the blossoming petals. You picked a periwinkle and crushed it in your hand. With your hand sticky with syrup and pollen, you let out a few tears. As they mixed with the sickly blue color of the crushed petals, you silently begged the universe to bring Kyle home. You would trade all of this- all your flowers and the shop, just to have him home safe in his parent's arms.

It was early December and you were managing the shop alone. Lila had gone on holiday with her family and you worked tirelessly to prepare for the upcoming festivities. It was warm in your store as you turned the sign signaling you were closed for the day. You went to the back to prepare some orders for the next day and hummed a carol as you worked. Just as you bunched another wreath together, you could hear the door's bell chime. "Sorry I don't know if you saw the sign, but we're closed," you said, emerging from the back room. When you saw who it was, you almost dropped the pine leaves in your hand.

"Long time no see," he said and you saw him, it was Kyle. It was him, aged five years, looking tall and broader than you remembered him. Stubble adorned his face as his lips curved into a smile. You eyed his bruised knuckles and scarred forearms, taking in every piece of him.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, cautiously. "Do you want the long or the short version?" he replied and took a step towards you. Soon, he was standing in front of you, a hand gently placed on your cheek. He looked at you and you nodded silently agreeing to his actions. You softened to his touch as he placed his other hand on your waist.

"Either," you breathed in the small space you found yourself in. "Well, the short version is that I needed to do two things. The first is to pick up a wreath for my mother, and the second is because I've wasted too much time not doing this." Before you could reply, he leaned down and you felt his soft lips on yours. Your eyes widened upon the sensation, tasting hints of hot chocolate on his tongue. He moved his hands to your back and pulled you into him. You quickly found yourself holding his biceps, feeling how strong he had gotten during all this time.

When you parted, you still maintained the embrace. You looked into his eyes, he was searching yours for a response. “I need a second,” you said as you rushed back into the prep room. Tears rolled down your face as your mind was clouded with a mix of emotions. Unlike when you left Kyle with a dying Nana, he followed you. “Y/N, talk to me,” he begged as you collapsed against a refrigerator holding cut flowers. “Why did you come here, Kyle?” you asked through tears, he joined you and held your hand as he explained. “I told you already,” he said softly but you wouldn’t accept that answer. “Why did you really come here?” you pleaded.

“I came here because I’ve loved you ever since I was a kid. I knew I loved you when you shoved your bouquet in my hands and explained to me every single one. I loved you when you caught me with your sticky hands and stuck marigolds in my hair. I tried to tell you when it was your birthday and I made that cake for you. I even dated someone who reminded me of you because I thought you only saw me as a friend. I spent the last 5 years trying to move on but whenever I fell asleep I would always dream of you smiling at me from a garden we planted together,” he said and your tears continued to fall as he described all the moments he was hopelessly falling for you. You couldn’t fathom how blind you both had been for all those years. Silence filled the air as Kyle held your hands tightly and you avoided his gaze. Finally, you found the strength to speak.

"I'm sorry," you began to say. "You're sorry?" he said confused, "Did I do something wrong?" You shook your head as you tried to escape his grip. "No, I'm sorry we grew apart. I'm sorry I pushed you away. I'm sorry I didn't go to your graduation and spend the holidays with you. I'm sorry for letting go," you whispered. You were ashamed to look at him and tried to leave his piercing gaze. He let go of you slightly, only to hold your chin to look up at him. "I'm sorry for leaving," he whispered back, "I learned a lot while I was gone. I lost good friends, I'm not letting another one get away," he finished before giving you a small kiss. You were speechless, a whirlwind of happy and melancholy emotions. Before Kyle could respond with concern you spoke for him. "Dogwood blossom, love undiminished by adversity."

"I'll do you one better," he said before pulling out a phlox blossom from his pocket. "Phlox, our souls are united." After two decades, you finally were able to kiss him, your Kyle, the neighborhood boy with marigolds in his hair.

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