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rikalovesrice · 2 years

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The Eternal Day : Tales of Arcadia - Chapter 9

Previous Chapter

Author’s Notes : THIS CHAPTER IS FLIPPIN’ LONG

Whew chile. We’re in the home stretch y’all. I want to apologize so hard in advance for......everything :’) Also I’m really sorry if the formatting is off... (Tumblr and Ao3 confuse me x_x). I didn’t want to go through 50 pages worth of text (on BOTH websites) to manually fix it so please bear with me rip (If anyone knows a solution, let a girl know lol)

Without further ado, please enjoy the chapter!

The Call To Become

“Walt?”

Barbara stood in the doorway. Walter had gone to a servant room with a single bed. He was sitting on the side closest to the window, faced away from her with his head in his hands. Without the mounted torches in the hallway, Barbara wouldn’t have been able to see him. Nightfall had turned the already overcast world pitch black, brightened only by flashes of lightning and the luminous form of the Forest Titan outside.

For the last two hours, Walter hadn’t moved. At the sound of Barbara’s light footsteps and the bed dipping as she sat beside him, he didn’t stir. But the moment her arms folded around him, his body was seized with trembling. He doubled in on himself, hands becoming fists in his gray hair. The paralysis of shock melted away and his shoulders began to rise and fall with ragged breaths. Barbara pressed her lips to his temple and held on. There were no words. Only more tears.

“I’m sorry, Walter. I’m so, so sorry.”

Walter managed his first words since they’d returned, voice clogged with grief. “I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t save her.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“She’s gone. And we failed.”

“You did everything you could.”

Walter’s hand found Barbara’s on his shoulder. He shook his head, his tears finally spilling forth. “My friend…She was my oldest friend.”

The fragments of Barbara’s shattered heart dug deeper. “I know.”

“It should’ve been me.”

“It shouldn’t have been either of you.”

Walter fell apart. “Nomura…!”

Melancholy hung in the air. Unbreathable as smog. Heavy as the rainfall.

Claire had lost her ability to stand and couldn’t stop her tears. Jim hugged her close, his eyes raw from crying and staring at nothing. Toby was laying down with an arm over his face. Next to him was Aaarrrgghh, sitting against the wall and sniffling. Blinky tearfully approached each of them and offered embraces of comfort.

“I just can’t believe she’s gone,” Claire said.

Toby sat up and furiously wiped his face. “Skrael’s gonna pay for this!” Aaarrrgghh scooted closer and Toby wept into his fur.

Nomura’s scimitars had been set down on a bedside table. Jim’s eyes found and he went to them, skimming his fingers over their sunset blades. He noticed the webs and slashes of enchanted frost staining the edges.

“She went down fighting,” Jim croaked.

“Undoubtedly,” Blinky said.

Douxie, Zoe, Archie, and Nari joined them. Douxie brought Claire into a hug and Zoe did the same with Jim. Archie settled between Toby and Aaarrrgghh, bunting them both and purring in solace.

Douxie pulled back and rubbed Claire’s shoulders. He wiped her tears with his thumb. “I’m so sorry. Truly I am.”

“She was a very strong and courageous soul.” Nari took Jim’s hand. She looked up at him, an ache in her spirit. “She will never be forgotten.”

“No, she won’t.” Jim held her hand back. “Glad you’re with us again, Nari. Having you back is the silver lining in all this.”

Nari couldn’t fathom why. Her gaze went downcast. “I am so sorry. I have been an instrument in all of this pain. In your great loss…”

“That’s not true.”

“It is.” When Nari looked up again, it was right into Jim’s eyes. “Jim, you could not control yourself. But this whole time, before all of this, I could.” Everyone was listening now. “When the Great Eternity…When my father left this world, I felt so alone. So afraid. Bellroc and Skrael became so cruel, but I wanted us to stay together. No matter the cost.” Nari shut her eyes. “How high a cost it was. And I do not believe I have paid for it.”

Douxie knelt before her, taking her hands. “Maybe you won’t have to.”

“What makes you say that?” Nari asked.

“I saw your memories. I saw the Great Eternity. Surely if he was so merciful to everyone, he’ll be just so with you, Nari. You’re his daughter after all. And you’re nothing like Bellroc or Skrael. I believe your father has always known that. I think…” Douxie breathed. “I think he’d be so proud of you.”

Nari inhaled. Her heart caved and her eyes flooded with tears. “Proud…? How can that…No, that cannot be…”

Nari nuzzled Douxie’s jacket when he brought her in. Douxie recalled those glimpses into Nari’s past, the snippets of the Great Eternity. Pictures of his wrath, the magnitude of his power, though momentary sent trembles of fear through Douxie’s body. Yet when he had seen the Great Eternity spare the world and felt his fatherly presence through Nari’s mind, Douxie couldn’t deny the compassion that radiated off of him, that incandesced within those indescribable eyes of his.

But at the end of it, Douxie didn’t know for sure what would happen. He could only hope, as he always did.

“You’re here with us now,” Douxie said, hugging Nari closer. “That’s all that matters.”

Nari clutched him back. Her tears slipped into the fabric of his hood. “I am so afraid. But I promise I will protect this world, all of you, until the end of days.”

“And we’ll return the favor,” Archie said, landing on Douxie’s shoulder to touch her forehead with his nose.

Across the room, Varvatos had been at least stabilized. A prism of Nari’s magic hovered over his chest, glowing strands of green ingrained into his wound, coupled with the shard of heartstone right beside him. Krel had brought whatever helpful contraptions he could think of from the study, creating a makeshift sort of cylindrical radiator device.

“It should emit restorative energy waves like the ones in stasis chambers,” Krel had said. But despite that, Nari’s magic, and a heartstone piece, Varvatos still hadn’t so much as twitched. Aja sat fetal on the floor with her back against his bed. Krel eventually moved next to her and held her two right hands. Luug licked at her toes, whimpering when she didn’t respond.

Others went over to check on Steve and Eli. The Creepslayerz were talking quietly, Eli sitting up in his bed and Steve’s hand on his back. Nari had done wonders on Eli’s burn, clearing blisters and reversing the damage done to skin and tissue, so that all his arm needed now were bandages, ointment, and maybe one more treatment spell. Steve’s broken arm had been pieced back together but he was told to keep movement to a minimum for at least an hour, lest he disrupt the magic’s healing work.

“You guys good?” Jim asked.

“I’m alright. It just feels like a really, really bad sunburn now,” Eli said. “And I’ve had a lot of those.”

Douxie glanced at Aja, then looked at Steve. “Is she…?”

Steve just shook his head, face gloomed and worried.

Krel turned to fully face his sister. He kneaded her hands. Images of two Akiridion ships full of human civilians flashed painfully in his mind for the hundredth time. The ships had been damaged so severely by the Fire Titan that the kinetic shields had malfunctioned. Two full impact crashes from hundreds of feet. There had been so much screaming. Terrified, helpless screaming. A dreadful chorus still echoing in Krel’s head.

“Aja…,” Krel said weakly. “Aja?”

She didn’t move. She kept her face buried in one of her left arms while the other hugged her knees. She could see all their faces in the darkness. Faces that had gone still under the wreckage. Faces of survivors, what few of them they’d salvaged. The shellshock eyes, the flat voices, the broken bleeding bodies branded into Aja’s mind. Both Akiridion pilots had been lost, along with several others who’d traveled from Akiridion-5 to assist. And now Varvatos…

Krel pulled Aja into his arms with a sob. Finally Aja reached up to clutch his arms and couldn’t hold it back anymore. She wheezed into Krel’s shoulder, hot tears starting to pour. Steve sat down in front of them. Eli, Jim, and Douxie stood close behind. Claire and the others quietly gathered around but remained at a distance.

“What happened?” Jim asked softly.

When Steve told them, Zoe covered her mouth with her hands and turned away. Claire shook her head at the ceiling, eyes flooding with more tears. Toby looked like he wanted to scream. Jim had to take a second to breathe, clenching and unclenching his hands. Douxie dropped to his knees. He looked at Nari, who stood silent with her face sunken with grief. Of course she’d known.

“What happened to the survivors?” Claire asked.

Eli spoke this time. “We had to send for another ship.” He sniveled, swiping his arm under his nose. “We only found like sixty people. One man knew some English and he…” Eli shuddered. “He was asking where his ‘little boy’ was and we h-hadn’t found any k-kids…”

Eli cried into his hands. Everyone was too overwhelmed to say anything, the gravity of what Bellroc had done crushing, suffocating. Sorrow wrung their hearts and more tears came. Hundreds of casualties, human and troll, a number of Akiridions. Nomura dead. Varvatos unmoving and in critical condition. One Heartstone left.

Candles had been lit all around the room, drops of flame flickering mild in the inclement dusk. Yet the world seemed darker than ever before and none of them knew how much more they could take.

Jim, Claire, and Toby embraced, Blinky and Aaarrrgghh soon joining them. Aja and Krel hugged each other tight while Steve linked an arm around Eli’s shoulders, Eli reciprocating with a firm hand on Steve’s back. Ricky and Lucy held one another, the pair of them solemn with Luug whining at their feet. Douxie clutched Zoe’s hand, Nari leaning on his side and Archie pressing close on his other.

Outside the storm raged and Arcadia’s fiery Heartstone glinted like a warning. The Forest Titan turned its head to the town in response.

They all knew there was only more to come.

◇

Krel took his place at the wall. “Ready?”

Zoe went up in front of the stained glass windows. “Yeah. Go for it.”

Krel locked on through the scope of the net gun he’d made. He sucked in a breath and fired, an electric blue capsule the size of a baseball blasting out of the barrel and across the room with the speed of a bullet. A second before impact the capsule spun open like a flowerbud, thin petals of electricity fanning out and weaving together. Zoe stumbled back into the windows as the arcane net flung tight around her.

“Are you alright?” Krel asked, jogging over.

“I-I’m good!” Zoe gasped. She watched sparks of energy flit off the net’s webbing. A twinge of panic pricked her. She breathed deep. Her magic wasn’t gone. It was compressed, no longer at her fingertips or buzzing beneath her skin, but she could still feel it in her aura. Her efforts to summon it were successfully nullified by the arcane net. It was a scary feeling but she had to get excited. “Krel…Krel, I think we did it—”

Yet as soon as she said it, the net turned dark blue and loosened, falling off in a heap around her ankles. Zoe and Krel locked eyes, shock soon turning to dejection. This had been the sixth attempt, with hours of adjustments in between.

Krel sank to the floor, burying his face in two of his hands. Zoe settled cross-legged beside him and placed a hand on his back.

“Hey…,” she said.

“I don’t understand why it’s not working,” Krel said, on the verge of tears. “Kleb! We’ve tried everything! If this doesn’t work…more lives will be lost…No, it will be the end…”

Zoe bit her lip, slowly breathing through her nose. He wasn’t totally wrong or right. There was a chance they could still pull a victory out of all this. The Trollhunters had done it before. The aliens and the Creepslayerz had done it before. Douxie had done it before, against the Order no less. But that had cost him his life, and the fact that he hadn’t stayed dead was a literal miracle. And what they were dealing with now was the Arcane Order on the cusp of their full power, unstoppable ancient terrors.

Zoe’s eyes wandered to the failed net. Removing the Order’s magic factor was their best bet for a guaranteed win and, maybe, a smaller death count. But that would still be too many. She tried to imagine what Aja and Krel had seen only hours earlier. She thought about Nomura and Varvatos, how she’d just started to get to know them. Zoe was no stranger to death. But for some reason, this was already taking its toll.

“We have to keep trying,” Zoe said. She got up and made her way to a holographic panel that displayed the arcane net’s charts, studying them closely. “The net definitely worked that time, so we’ve got that down.”

“But it won’t stay on,” Krel sighed. “For some reason the net’s power just won’t last. Electron stabilizers, trifurcate chargers, radiation adapters, static converters, current dividers, your own technological magic, nothing’s working!” Pain swam in his eyes. “What else can I do…? I have to make this work or…”

“Krel, this isn’t all on you,” Zoe said softly. “I’m here to help, remember?”

“I know…I know, I just…What else can I do?” He squeezed his eyes shut and choked. Zoe went back to his side and knelt.

“You need a break. Why don’t you go back downstairs for a bit?”

“No, I can’t! I need to—”

“You need to ease up on yourself.” Zoe pulled at Krel’s arm until he got up then started nudging him toward the door, ignoring his protests. “Just take ten minutes. All the minutes. I’ll keep working up here so don’t worry.” She finally got him outside the study. Zoe stood in the doorway and met Krel’s gaze. The fear and sorrow in his eyes provoked a tenderness that she hadn’t felt in ages. Not since her little siblings moved on. “It’s gonna be alright. We’ll get through this.”

Zoe really, really hoped so.

Krel was mum while returning Zoe’s stare. He let out a shaking breath after a moment and nodded, holding one of his arms as if wounded. Zoe didn’t miss the glimmer of gratitude in Krel’s eyes before he descended the escalator. She pushed the door closed and pressed her back to the wood, letting her head tip back. When she righted herself again her eyes caught the lime green gemstone set into Excalibur, the sword still lodged within a chunk of earth, waiting to be unsheathed. It made her think of Jim, which led to her pondering his armor recreated by Krel. A perfect, functional blend of Akiridion tech and magic.

“...to achieve the same power…”

Zoe collected the net off the floor, using her magic to spin it back into its electric blue capsule. She placed it back next to its twin in a transparent case all hooked and wired up to more Akiridion machines. She faced the monitor that showed the nets’ power levels, insanely high from all the tweaks but still not enough, and started thinking maybe it had little to nothing to do with the batteries. In fact, Zoe had found that was rarely the case when it came to technomancy. It was all about the parts. If one had all the parts, if all the pieces were in place, the required magic would do its work and the cogs would turn without a problem. If they had plenty of magic, which Zoe did, then there was simply an element missing.

Zoe leaned her elbows on the panel, head in her hands.

“The same power…,” she whispered. “The same…” Her eyes flew open. She snapped her gaze back to Excalibur, chastising herself because did she not realize sooner?

That’s what they needed.

◇

“James Lake.”

Jim gasped awake and sat straight up in darkness. He was sitting at a desk. There were desks around him and a whiteboard ahead. Silver light poured into the classroom. His classroom.

“What…What’s happening? H-How did I…” Jim looked down at his hands and immediately wanted to vomit. Blue skin. Only four fingers on one hand. Jim scraped his hands over his scalp, eyes burning with tears at the hardness of horns. “No…No, no, no, NO!!!” Jim knocked his desk and chair over as he stood, eschewing more desks as he stumbled for the door. His insides were being stabbed by iron hot needles. His brain was bloated with internal screaming and bad thoughts but it just wouldn’t explode. He dropped to his knees in the haunting school hallway and heaved violently. He dragged his nails over his skin. Banged his forehead against the ground to wake himself up. “No…No, I don’t want to be a monster…Please, please, please I don’t—”

“James Lake.”

The voice somehow cut right through the whirlwind in Jim’s mind. He brought his face up to see an iridescent glow at the very end of the hall. Wisps of light beckoned in the dark.

“Jim!” It was Claire’s voice.

“Claire?” Jim crawled forward, hand reaching out.

“Jimbo!”

“Master Jim.”

“This way, Young Atlas.”

“Come on, sweetie.”

“Tobes? Blink?” He staggered to his feet and started after the light. “M-Mom! Walter, wait! Please…!”

The light made a turn, taking the voices of Jim’s loved ones with it. Jim broke into a run, his tears flowing sideways. Shards of glass manifested all along the walls, and Jim could see the monster in his peripherals. Sprinting next to him, flashing its fangs in a sickening grin. Jim blinked. The hall was a bloodbath. He blinked again. The floors were clean.

Jim finally rounded the corner to see the cluster of light exiting the school through double doors. The voices kept calling.

“I love you, Jim.”

“We’re not leaving you.”

“You’re not alone, Jimbo.”

“No cheeks about it, Lake!”

“You’re not a monster.”

“I never blamed you for Merlin’s death. Not once.”

“You do not have to hide anymore.”

Jim’s foot made it outside and suddenly he was in the canal, in front of a pile of rocks. The light disappeared through the cracks and Jim fell to his knees, digging desperately through the rubble. Then the earth beneath him gave way and he was falling through pitch blackness. Voices continued to echo around him, but mixed in now were horrified yells and the deep raspy breathing of a beast above it all. Jim smushed his hands over his ears. In the darkness he just made out a pair of wooden bloodshot eyes ringed with fire, then a giant gray hand emerged. Jim screamed his throat sore and curled in on himself.

Jim struck the ground hard, bones rattling. Suddenly there was blinding light and he covered his face with his arms. Spots of blistering pain seared his body. He couldn’t escape. He was burning alive. Then he couldn’t move at all but it still hurt. It was still burning. Jim wanted it all to stop. He just wanted this to end. He never wanted this.

I can’t do this anymore. Claire. Mom. Blinky. Someone, anyone…I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m…

“James Lake.”

The white sunlight was wiped away to reveal a moonless night sky. Jim’s whole body relaxed into the grass, no longer petrified. He stared up at the billions of stars. Listened to the trilling of crickets. Traced with his eyes the silhouettes of leaves pinned to branches. Then, like a peaceful wraith, the cluster of iridescent light passed over him.

“Wait…!” Jim sat up and turned to not lose sight of it. But he wasn’t looking at a ball of light.

There was a man sitting on a rock. He was dressed in a simple wine colored tunic and brown pants torn at the calves, revealing black claws on each of his toes. His nose wasn’t quite human, still bridged but more flat and heart-shaped like that of a sheep. Horns curled out of a wild, tousled golden mane. A magnificent pair of silver feathered wings tucked against his back. Most perplexing of all were the man’s eyes, two big pools of every color one could imagine, and many more that Jim couldn’t name. The man seemed to be made of light itself, his whole being glowing softly under the night, turning his hair to fire, his silver wings into folded blades, and his eyes into galaxies.

“Who…,” was all Jim could say. Was he still dreaming?

“Hello, James,” the man said with a smile. “Jim, rather.”

Something about the man’s voice made Jim feel safe. It was deep but soft, strong yet mild. Jim twisted onto his knees then slowly stood, unable to look away.

“Who are you?” he asked.

The man raised a clawed finger. “Think for a moment. You have indeed seen me before. Albeit briefly.”

So Jim thought, trying to match the shape of this man to his memories. His eyes roamed over the horns and wings and claws again. A single bright green firefly drifted into his vision, and then it clicked.

“T-The Great Eternity!” Jim exclaimed. He jumped back and fell on his rear. The Great Eternity stood and started approaching. Jim didn’t know why but he was suddenly terrified. “O-Okay…Okay, whoa, this is…um…”

“Peace,” the Great Eternity said. “And yes, this is still a dream.”

“What? H-How did you—”

“I know everything. But there’s nothing to fear. Rise.”

Jim didn’t move. In this moment, this strange fabricated moment in his head, Jim knew without a doubt that the Great Eternity scared him more than every terror he’d ever faced. More than Gunmar. More than Bellroc. More than the Titans. It pulsed in his heart, in the depths of his soul. Power flowed from the Great Eternity like the light encompassing him, raw unimaginable power that could create entire worlds and snuff them out in a blink. The Great Eternity’s intimidating splendor had Jim flinching down. And then he saw his grotesque hands and remembered. He was a monster again. He was a filthy beast. He could only hurt, kill, destroy. Panic banged inside his skull, then the Great Eternity spoke.

“Jim. It’s alright. Lift your head and rise.”

His voice sliced right through the chaos, and Jim looked up. He timidly searched the Great Eternity’s face, the tension in his body easing when there was no trace of scorn or disgust to be found. Jim slowly stood and hugged himself. The Great Eternity towered over him and he didn’t know what to say.

“Um…well…Great Eternity, sir—”

“A bit impersonal, isn’t it?” the Great Eternity said. “You may call me by my name. Elyolam.”

“Ell-yoo-lamb?”

“Close enough.” Elyolam smiled.

Jim felt the corners of his mouth twitch. He cleared his throat. “So…what’s this about? Why are you here?”

“Why, I’m here for you, of course.”

Jim shifted. “What do you mean?”

Elyolam gazed at him. “Come with me.” He turned and started walking, his light illuminating a path through the darkness. Jim hesitated, but then quickly followed, a host of fireflies floating into the space left behind. They strolled into a forest, dark and ordinary. That is until Elyolam stepped through the entrance. Luminous flower buds miraculously ballooned and flourished along the path wherever he passed, residual light speckling leaves and fluttering away as moths. It reminded Jim of the Forest Titan’s flower beds. Soft white light tinted blue.

Hope these won’t try to kill me… Jim thought. Although I’m dreaming so I guess it’s fine?

Elyolam snickered.

The trees eventually fanned out and formed a circle around a clearing. A small pond glimmered in the center of blooming candescent dandelions and hibiscuses. Elyolam reached the water’s edge and turned to Jim, waiting. Jim came closer but froze inches away from the pond, anxiety pushing up his throat at the thought of glancing into it.

“There’s nothing to fear, Jim.”

“No…No, there is.”

“And what would that be?”

Jim shook his head. “I don’t want to look at myself.”

“What harm will that do?”

“You ask a lot of questions for someone who knows everything.” It came out ruder than Jim meant it. “I-I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

Elyolam glanced at the pond, then back at Jim. “A mirror never lies. It only displays the truth. So come and see the truth for yourself.”

“This is just a dream. This is all in my head,” Jim said, meeting Elyolam’s enigmatic eyes. “How do I know any of this is true? I mean you’re,” Jim gestured at him, “probably not the real Great Eternity and I don’t know why my brain’s brought you here.”

“Mm. You feel so, yet you’re terrified of me.”

“I know you can do some scary things.”

“I’m not doing anything now, am I? Why are you so afraid?”

Jim swallowed. “I don’t know. Dreams do that. They always make sense in the moment, right? I’m going to wake up and see how crazy this all was.”

“Crazy, is it?” Elyolam chuckled. “James Lake Jr.. First and only human Trollhunter, chosen by the Amulet of Daylight itself. Defender of troll and humankind, of Magic and Man. Slayer of Bular the Butcher and his father Gunmar the Black. You’ve traversed through shadows and fought with wizards. When the Eternal Night fell, you were the sun. Goodness, aliens are real and you’re a time traveler!” He shook his head, expression fond. “And the world had known nothing. Pretty crazy, don’t you think?”

Jim opened his mouth but didn’t find words.

“Is it so outlandish, then,” Elyolam said, “that I, the Great Eternity, can appear in your dreams with the power you know I possess?”

Not at all. But Jim really didn’t want to look into that pond.

“You really saw everything, huh?” Jim said quietly.

“There is nothing I haven’t seen,” Elyolam said. “That includes what goes unseen.” He stepped in front of Jim.

Warmth folded over Jim’s shoulders, and with it came the feeling of his insides melting. Jim looked up, eyes watering and body trembling at the kindness on Elyolam’s face. It washed over him, filled his lungs, flowed through his veins, trickled over his skin.

“You’ve suffered greatly, my boy,” Elyolam said, giving Jim’s shoulders a squeeze. “But to suffer for what is good, what is right, for the ones you hold dear, I assure you there’s nothing greater.”

Jim turned his head down, blinking rapidly. He heaved a sigh. “Well it hasn’t felt all that great, if I’m being honest.”

“I know. How odd it would be if it did. But those who endure hardship for what is good have truly lost nothing. In fact, there is only gain, and what you have gained will never be taken from you.”

“I’ve lost nothing?” Jim shrugged Elyolam’s hands off and backed up, his own hands balling into fists. “Are you kidding me right now? What about my Amulet? What about being the Trollhunter?” He was getting louder, voice quavering. “What about my high school graduation? My ability to feel sunlight or eat regular food or sleep?” Jim took several ragged breaths. “What about Draal? What about Nomura? What about…” He shut his eyes. The phantom of monstrous rage emerged from the blackness. Douxie and Archie crushed beneath his weight. Merlin sent to his death through a window. Claire gasping for breath. Jim’s eyes tore open, loosing his tears. “You think you know everything? Just look at me!” He took two strides and thrust his face over the pond. “Just look—”

It was Jim’s human face staring back at him in the crystal water. Jim’s human self breathing harshly with tears streaming. He touched his cheek, felt his absent fangs. Sure enough, his troll hand appeared human. He turned his face side to side. Felt his head with both hands, confirming his unkempt hair and horns. Yet every move he made, human Jim copied.

“What? How…T-This isn’t right. I’m not—”

“What’s not right about it?” Elyolam asked.

“This isn’t me!”

“Who is it then?”

“It’s…It’s not…”

Elyolam leaned forward and hovered his own face over the pond. He looked just as he was. “Hm. That’s me alright. And we’re both looking in the same mirror.”

“How is this— I don’t…” Jim’s human reflection reached out as he dipped his fingers into the water. He choked back more tears. Jim hadn’t seen this face, his human face, for so long. Now it was right in front of him, moving with him, looking back at him, and the world wasn’t spinning or distorting or collapsing yet. “I don’t get it.”

“It’s as I said. Mirrors never lie.” Elyolam crouched beside Jim and brought a hand to the back of his head. He coaxed Jim to look his way. “My meaning was not that you hadn’t suffered the pain of loss. It was as I said : You have truly lost nothing. Not your fallen friends, and not yourself.” Jim sucked a breath. Elyolam’s tone grew impossibly softer.

“Who you are, Jim. Your strong, caring, selfless, and courageous heart and soul. The reasons why you were chosen for such a destiny,” Elyolam turned back to the pond and Jim followed his gaze, “it’s still there, you see?” He looked back at Jim’s troll form. “You bear many scars. Far too many. But you have remained true, my boy. You remain, and so you can become.”

Jim blinked and suddenly his troll self was rippling in the water.

“What?!” he gasped. And when he reached out to skim the reflection, it was with human hands. Jim held his human palms up to his eyes before patting down his scrawny human body. Jim dug his fingers into the damp earth and craned over the water, the troll mirroring him.

“It could have destroyed you. Then, it was made to destroy,” Elyolam said. “Still you have remained. Remain, Jim. Remain, and become. Become, and take hold. Take hold, and become.”

“What do you mean? I don’t understand.”

“When you awake, you will.”

“Wait…” White mist was creeping into Jim’s vision. His next words were slurred. “W-Wait, Great Eternity! Elyo…Elyolam!”

“Become.” Elyolam was gone but his words resounded.

“Hang on…!” The mist thickened and rendered the clearing translucent. Jim could just make out a ball of iridescent light. He glimpsed his reflection one last time. His face was human on one side, troll on the other. Puffs of white shrouded the water.

“Become.”

“Elyolam…!”

“Become.”

“How…will…I…” Jim tipped backwards.

“Jim. In darkness, in daylight, do what you were meant to do.”

◆

Become.

“Huh?!” Jim sprang up. Drowsiness fogged his brain and he swayed where he sat. He blinked several times, trying to make sense of everything in the dimly lit space he was in, and finally registered rows of wooden beds. Soft, even breaths reached his ears and looked beside him, the sight of Claire sleeping soundly melting his heart. Jim caressed her cheek while he scanned the rest of the room. Toby was dead asleep on the neighboring bed. Blinky, Aaarrrgghh, and Archie conversed quietly in a corner. On the opposite end, Douxie sat on the floor and strummed his guitar, Nari leaning against him with her eyes closed. Varvatos was still in a fragile, motionless state. Aja stood at the foot of his bed with her arms crossed, her eyes clouded and distant. The door creaked open and Krel wandered in, noticeably crestfallen. Lucy was going around offering refreshments on a tray.

Jim’s eyes rested back on Claire. He pressed his lips to her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open.

“Jim?” she murmured.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said. When she smiled at him, he kissed her on the lips. He pulled away and she gave him a kiss back. One more kiss and then she sat up with him, their fingers intertwined. Jim gazed into her beautiful brown eyes. “I love you, Claire.”

Claire gaped. Her cheeks turned pink. Her heart did a cartwheel. “I love you, too.” She tilted her head, noticing that Jim’s eyes were a little clearer. “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine, I think,” Jim said.

“You seem different.”

“Yeah. I…I feel different somehow. I’m not sure why, though.” Jim rubbed his forehead with his knuckles. “I think I had a dream. But I can’t really remember.”

Claire considered this. “They say dreams you can’t remember are usually good ones.”

“Then this would be the first since…forever and ever.” His smile was a weary one. “It’d be nice to remember it.”

“Maybe it’ll come back to you,” Claire said.

“Yeah.”

Toby stirred beside them, stretching his arms and yawning loud. “Jimbo? Claire?”

“Rise and shine, Tobes,” Jim said.

“Man, how long were we out?” Toby asked as Aaarrrgghh and Blinky came over.

“Two hours,” Aaarrrgghh said.

“Two hours?!” Claire said in a panic.

“Thankfully there’s been no sign of the Order yet,” Blinky said. His eyes lingered on each of their faces. “You all certainly needed the rest. How do you feel, Master Jim?”

“I’m alright, Blink. I…” Jim trailed off. Sitting here with Claire, Toby, Blinky, and Aaarrrgghh sent a wave of odd nostalgia through him. Maybe it was because they were facing yet another global catastrophe together. But there was something else. Each of their voices whispered in his mind.

I love you. We all love you, Jim.

You’ll always be Jimbo to me.

Jim friend.

I can think of no one more becoming than you, Master Jim.

He listened to the rain outside, the sound of dripping water. A faint memory. Was it the dream?

“Jim? You still with us?” Claire leaned into his line of sight.

Jim gazed at her, then at each of them in turn. Claire, the love of his life. Toby, his best friend. Aaarrrgghh, their big lovable rock. Blinky, his fatherly mentor. Jim’s heart swelled to bursting with fondness and gratitude as it always did whenever he thought about everything they’d been through together. Whenever he thought of their unwavering love and support. Their willingness to carry Jim through. Their understanding. Their forgiveness. But in this moment, the words of comfort and encouragement they’d been speaking over him all this time were a little clearer, made a little more sense to him.

Jim shook away the strangeness and breathed a laugh. “Yeah. I’m still here.” He bunched the bedsheet in his hand. “I’m really sorry if I haven’t said this enough. Just…thank you. I love you guys.”

Claire squeezed his hand. “We love you, Jim.”

“Uno reverse, as they say!” Blinky said, all six eyes shimmering. He came around to fold his left arms around Jim. “The honor and pride as I look upon you now…there are truly no words.” Blinky looked Jim in the eyes. “I have no doubt, Master Jim, that of Destiny’s gifts, our paths crossing, the everlasting friendships we’ve forged,” Blinky gestured to all of them, “has been the greatest of all.”

Toby and Aaarrrgghh looked at each other.

“Agree,” Aaarrrgghh said with a tender smile. “Made many friends. Have Wingman.”

“Copy that, Big Guy,” Toby said, trying not to cry and meeting Aaarrrgghh in a fist bump.

Jim got off the bed to give Blinky a proper hug. “I think so, too.” He hugged Aaarrrgghh next, then it was Toby’s turn. “C’mere, Tobes.”

Toby sniffled hard and rushed into Jim’s arms. Claire joined in, and Blinky and Aaarrrgghh hugged the three of them.

“Here’s to more adventures,” Jim said. If we make it past this one.

A fleeting smile had made it onto Aja’s face at the sight. She directed her attention to Krel, sitting on the ground with his back against another bed’s footboard. He’d settled close to Douxie, his eyes tired and absent as he listened to the dulcet melodies being played. Aja went over and sat next to him. He looked at her. Aja brought him into her arms and he held her back. Neither said anything, sharing their weariness and despondency in silence. Luug snuggled up to them and whined.

After a while, Aja eased back from her brother and looked him in the eyes. She then wiped her tears and shakily stood, going back to Varvatos while tapping on a palm-sized communicating device.

“What’re you doing?” Krel asked.

“We can’t sit around anymore,” Aja said, hoarse and thick. “I need to contact Zadra. I have to get our troops ready. All of them.”

Douxie stopped playing, and with that this fragile reprieve they’d all been clinging to evaporated. They’d given themselves time to rest, to think, to mourn, all the while being on edge and ready at the drop of a hat to suit up and go to war. Two hours wasn’t nearly enough. But two uneasy hours later, that time was up. Bellroc and Skrael were on their way. At any moment now, it would all be over.

“I’ll go fetch the others,” Archie said to Douxie, somber. When he returned, Steve and Eli followed along with Ricky, who was yammering on about tailored suits. Zoe trailed in behind them.

“Your mother is with Walter,” Archie said to Jim. His ears drooped. “She said he didn’t want to be disturbed. I left them be.”

It was another stab in everyone’s hearts.

“That makes sense,” Jim said softly. “Thanks, Arch.”

Steve went to Aja, taking her second pair of hands that weren’t occupied. His eyes flicked to Varvatos.

“How’s he doing?” he asked.

“The same,” Aja said, not looking up. Her fingers tapped rapidly on her device but she kept messing up. She started shaking. “I can’t tell if he’s getting better or worse. But I know he wouldn’t want me to keep moping around. I need to— Ugh, why can’t I type this stupid transmission code!?”

“Aja, hey…Come on, just take it easy.”

“I can’t take it easy, Steve!” She ripped her hands out of his, backing away. Luug yelped and scurried away to Nari. Guilt stung Aja’s core when she saw the hurt on Steve’s face but her frustration bowled over it. “Didn’t you see what happened? I made a promise as Queen to protect this planet and I failed! All of those people…Even the Akiridions on the ships were…A-And now Varvatos is like this. I couldn’t…” Aja shut her eyes and wheezed. “We have to act now! Bellroc has to be stopped or the universe will be destroyed!”

Aja’s wording took everyone aback.

“What do you mean the universe?” Zoe asked.

“Bellroc said they wouldn’t stop with this planet,” Aja said. Her tears began to fall. “He wants to destroy other worlds and remake them the way he wants. The Arcane Order isn’t going to stop. I can’t let that happen. I won’t let them take more lives. I won’t fail again…!”

“Aja—” Krel reached out to her but she was already out the door, worried gazes following her. Him and Steve were about to go after her, but Eli moved in front of them.

“I think she needs some space,” Eli said.

“I’d sock you in the face for that lame pun but I’m too bummed,” Steve blubbered.

Krel stared at the doorway, his core aching. He hung his head, briefly catching Zoe's gaze before going back to Varvatos’ side to check on the radiator, and to pray that it was actually working. Eli inspected with him.

“Might need more help,” Aaarrrgghh said. “Titans can summon monsters. A lot.”

“Aaarrrgghh’s right. The Ice Titan’s frosty ghost minions just kept coming no matter how many we took out,” Toby said.

“Can your Titan do the same, Nari?” Douxie asked.

Nari scratched Luug’s belly. “Our Titans are capable of spawning creatures to serve us, yes. But I must focus all of my power on Bellroc and Skrael. My carnifloras will not be as plentiful.”

“So we’ll need more backup then,” Jim said.

“Just as well. The trolls of Harmonia have offered their aid,” Blinky said. Jim and Claire’s eyes lit.

“That’s Luma for you,” Claire said. “But will that be enough?”

“Luma send Stalkings to tell other trolls,” Aaarrrgghh said.

Blinky thought. “Other troll clans won’t know what’s transpired since then. Perhaps we must depart on our own excursion, my friend. It must be known that the primordial Heartstones have fallen, aside from one. Here, in Arcadia, where our last battle must be fought.”

His words hung in the air. Arcadia. Somehow it always came down to Arcadia Oaks.

Aaarrrgghh held Blinky’s gaze for a moment, then nodded with a resolute grunt.

“We’re coming with you,” Toby said.

“I’ll shadow us wherever we need to go,” Claire said.

Blinky shook his head, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Preserve your strength, Fair Claire. The gyres will make do.” Aaarrrgghh sulked despite himself.

“How about we take a portal to Harmonia first? We can take the gyres from there,” Jim said.

“Very well, Master Jim,” Blinky said.

Jim looked over at Douxie and Zoe. “What’re you guys going to do?”

“Zoe and I have some associates of our own,” Douxie said.

“I personally know entire communities of underground wizards, and not just the guys at Hex Tech,” Zoe said. “They might be willing to lend a hand. Or a wand, I guess.”

“I personally have many…uh, previous mates I may or may not have ticked off,” Douxie said. “B-But the end of the world should be enough to mend burned bridges, right?” Archie rolled his eyes.

“Well that’s something,” Jim said with a small smile. He turned back to Claire and the others. “We should go right away.”

“Stay safe,” Douxie said. He stepped closer and gripped Jim’s shoulder. He took a long look at each of their faces. “Please.” They all returned Douxie’s sentiment, eyes glistening, hoping for each other’s well being. The group nodded in earnest, then vanished. As soon as they were gone, Douxie swayed on his feet, pins and needles pricking his fingertips.

“Doux…!” Zoe quickly supported him. “Hey, you good?”

Douxie sniveled. “I just…I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

“Me neither,” Zoe whispered. She’d been the newest to all of this and she wasn’t one to open up so easily. But Zoe knew that these were friends she wanted to keep for a while. “It’s gonna be alright. We’ll get through this. Together.”

Douxie looked down at her and his heart clenched. If there was ever a time, it was now.

“Zoe,” he said.

She looked up. “Yeah?”

“There’s…” Oh no. “Um…T-There’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you. No…I need to say to you.” Douxie’s mind flailed and he already wanted to backpedal.

Her electric blue eyes widened. Her cheeks dusted pink and she berated herself because there was no way he was going to say what she wanted him to say.

“...Yeah?”

“Yes.” Yes? Douxie’s stomach flipped. Blasted buckets of fuzz, it’s all gone off the rails and I’m still at the bloody station! “Yes, I…You see, for a very, very, very long time now…I’ve…”

Zoe’s heart thrashed. Calm yourself, woman!! “You’ve?”

Just spit it out, Hisirdoux! He locked eyes with her so intensely she jumped. “The truth is, Zoe, I…I-I lo–”

A mighty roar boomed through the castle. Douxie conjured his staff, bracelet coming alight and fear burning in his throat. Sparks zipped around Zoe’s fingertips.

“W-What was that?!” Krel cried, reaching for his serrator.

Another roar reverberated, this time closer. Steve and Eli rushed out the room, weapons in hand. Douxie, Zoe, Nari, and Krel hurried after them. A third roar resounded as they all ran down the hall. It was coming from the foyer. They crossed the threshold out of the servants’ quarters and beelined toward the towering archway, weapons poised and magic churning.

“Tenebris—” Douxie skid to a halt, as did the others and they all nearly barreled into each other. Aja was already here, serrator configured into a cannon but lowered. All of Douxie’s anxiety melted away as he watched Archie nuzzle against the familiar furry face of a leonine dragon. “Charlie!”

Charlemagne the Devourer turned to Douxie and guffawed. “Hisirdoux, my boy! I’ve been roaring to see you! Bwahaha!”

“Father, please…,” Archie mumbled, but didn’t lose his smile.

Douxie ran to hug Charlemagne’s chest. “Charlie! It’s good to see you, mate!”

“Have you gotten smaller?” Charlemagne held Douxie in his paws. He took note of Douxie’s sunken face and the bags under his eyes darker than ever. “You’re thin as a wurm’s whiskers.”

“Seems I’ve lost my appetite a smidge,” Douxie sighed. “End of the world and all.”

“A blood berry pie is in order! Where’s your kitchen?” Charlemagne noticed Aja and Krel staring up at him. The two jumped when he bent close to study them. “Hmmm…Or would these ones prefer blueberry?”

“I-I’d prefer blue berries over bloody ones,” Krel said.

Aja tentatively touched one of Charlie’s horns. For a moment, the weight in her eyes lifted and a small smile found its way onto her face.

“You’re one lively creature, Charlie,” she said.

“Lively? Ohohohoho, I like that one!” Charlemagne said. “What’s your name?”

“Aja Tarron, Queen of Akiridion-5. This is my little brother, Krel. He’s the King In Waiting.”

“Akiridions, you say? Mmhm! You must be the visitors from other worlds I’ve heard so much about.”

“You’ve heard about us?” Krel asked.

“Of course! I don’t live under a rock, you know.”

“You live in a den. Underground,” Archie said.

“Hoho, I live under several rocks, you could say!” Charlemagne sniggered. “But yes, ancient tomes have written about beings such as yourselves. You’re closely connected to our world, according to myriads of texts. Or should I say, Akiriding to them! Wahahahahaaa!”

Archie groaned. “Father— Alright, alright that’s enough! Look, this here is Steve and Eli!”

“Nice to meet ya, Dragon Dad,” Steve said.

“Hello, Sir Dragon, sir,” Eli said.

Archie flew to Zoe next. “A very dear friend of mine here. Zoe Ashildr. She’s accompanied Douxie and myself on countless adventures.”

“Oho! I’m,” Charlemagne pointed at Zoe’s hair, “tickled pink to meet you!”

Zoe made a face. “Aha…Yeah. Hey there, Archie’s dad who…I didn’t think I’d be meeting. Like ever.”

“Archie’s never told you stories about old Charlemagne?” Charlemagne asked.

Archie pressed a paw to his snout. “Please don’t—”

“Wait, Charlemagne?” Zoe’s head snapped to Archie. “As in that Charlemagne?” She gaped for a second, then bit her bottom lip and snorted. “Archie…Seriously? No…This? This is the big bad draconic terror you’ve been telling me about for the past millennium? And he’s your dad?”

“Archibald’s always been quite the storyteller! Or, or rather I should say,” Charlie wiggled his rump, “Storytailer? Bwahahahaha!”

Nari giggled. “You are so funny.”

Charlemagne’s hearty laughter fizzled. The humor on his face gradually transitioned into grave focus the longer he looked at her. He stalked forward and, like with the others, inched his nose close to examine her.

“Funny…Very funny indeed,” he said lowly. Wariness sparked in his eyes, pupils turning to slits. His lip pulled back to flash the tip of a fang. “And what are you about, Arcane one?”

“Father…,” Archie said, flying next to him. “There’s no need for that. Nari’s a friend.”

Nari stared back. “I promise, I do not want to harm anyone. I am no longer of the Order. I am here to fight against them. To protect this world.”

“It’s true, Charlie,” Douxie said, stepping beside her.

Charlemagne’s eyes flickered to Douxie, then back to Nari. He reared away then took a seat, his gaze softening just a tad.

“Very well then,” he said.

Archie settled utop his head. “Thanks, Dad.”

“And thank you for coming,” Douxie said. “You’re here to help us…right?”

“This dragon never sits on his claws,” Charlemagne said.

“Yeah, I heard,” Zoe said, teasing Archie with a smirk before taking her phone out. “Speaking of help, we should start making calls, Doux.”

“Right,” Douxie said.

They got to work sending text messages and leaving voicemails. Krel went back to the servants’ quarters while Aja, Steve, and Eli chatted with Charlemagne and Archie.

“Oho, that’s right, I have a berry pie to make!” Charlemagne exclaimed.

Nari slipped away to the halls, checking each window until she could see her Forest Titan. It’d been facing the Heartstone hovering over Arcadia, but now turned to, having sensed her acknowledgement. Nari climbed out the window and scaled the wet stone walls, lifting herself over parapets and onto a walkway. Remorse coursed through her when she skimmed the ruined portion of the castle, its shattered stone walls marred by char and frost. She hopped and padded on all fours up a watchtower, unbothered by the slickness brought about by the rain. It had also rained endlessly back then, when the Titans had first been unleashed. As much as Nari relished the coolness dripping over her skin, trickling through her hair, she missed the moon, the stars, the sun. She missed them even more now. Her Titan’s natural green glow. The fiery brilliance of the Heartstone in the distance. The soft blue Heart of Camelot keeping the castle aloft. It seemed those were the only lights left in the whole world. When she reached the top of the tower, Nari called her Titan closer.

“I am sorry,” she whispered when it came to stand below her. “This was never supposed to happen.”

Whether it was the end or not, Nari feared she’d never see the light again.

◇

Jim held Claire against him as she wept. They were sitting across Luma in her den, a warm nest of lustrous gems where they’d found much solace and had been given much counsel. To come back to this safe place in these circumstances, to just hear how many of their Harmonia friends they’d lost to the Ice Titan, was beyond devastating.

“They all fought with such valor, my dears,” Luma said quietly as she looked upon them. She held Claire’s hand across her crystal table, her grief equally palpable. “I know they would have done so again.”

“I can’t do this,” Claire sobbed. “I can’t take this anymore. I can’t….!”

All Jim could do was hold her tighter in silence, tears running down his face. He shut his eyes, his hand on his knee balling and shaking. It had been one sorrow after another the past several hours. But in this moment, boiling through his veins, a furious current in a haunted ocean, was rage like he’d never felt before.

“Bellroc and Skrael are gonna get what’s coming to them,” Jim spat. “If it’s the last thing I do I’ll— I’m gonna—”

“Jim. I understand your pain and anger,” Luma said. “But hatred must not be what drives you.”

“Well I do hate them!” Jim rose off his seat and glared into Luma’s eyes. “I hate them because all this is their fault! All they’ve ever done is destroy and hurt people! Because of them there was an Eternal Night. Because of them now hundreds of people and so many of our friends here are dead! Nomura…!” He faced the wall and took a huge breath before locking back on Luma. “What Skrael did to her…What Bellroc did to those ships…! What both of them did to me—”

Jim gasped. The following silence was filled with his ragged breathing. Luma calmly stared back at him.

“Jim…,” Claire said, reaching for him.

“I hurt you.” Jim looked at her. “I hurt Douxie. I hurt all of my friends because of them.” He turned back to Luma. “So yeah I hate them. I hate them so much.”

Luma folded her hands on the table, gaze lowering in thought. Claire got up and touched Jim’s arm. It was the first time he’d actually said it, that the Arcane Order was to blame.

“Your hatred is not misplaced,” Luma said. “Of course, we must hate the evil that has caused all of this. But your hatred must not consume you. Is that not how the Arcane Order has done its business? With their ruthless hatred?”

Jim said nothing, but his eyes softened.

“Do not misunderstand me.” Luma stood and maneuvered around her table. Her gaze glowed with affection as she placed one hand on Jim’s shoulder and the other on Claire’s. But then her expression darkened, a dangerous glint in her eyes, and her tone became low and hushed with sincerity. “I’m very, very angry, my dears. And so I will wage war with these harbingers of darkness and destruction. But not with more bitterness. But with love for what is right.” Luma looked at Jim and Claire’s faces. “For what is good.”

“‘For the good of all.’” Jim met her gaze. “That’s what you always say.”

Luma smiled. “And for all that is good.”

“Our friends won’t have died for nothing,” Claire said, wiping her cheek.

Luma caressed her head. “No, my dear.”

They left the den just as Toby, Aaarrrgghh, and Blinky returned from their separate trips. The Wingmen had taken one gyre while Blinky had taken another. Jim and Claire had returned before them, having revisited Moonglow Hollow and one other troll clan.

“How’d it go for you guys?” Jim asked.

“Quagawumps did not hesitate,” Aaarrrgghh reported with a smile.

“Good ol’ Queen W basically sent her whole crew to spread the word,” Toby said. “But the Kruberas said they’d have to think about it. They want to know for sure we’re serious about the whole going to war thing.”

“We still couldn’t get through to Alabast,” Claire sighed. “But I mean, I get it. He’s scared. Who wouldn’t be?”

“He did point us to some other trolls, the…Geowarts?” Jim said. “Anyway, they didn’t seem too keen on joining us, either. But at the very least they said they’d help get the message around. What about you, Blink?”

“The trolls of Gobble’s Grotto and Diamarket displayed similar reservations,” Blinky said. “Uncertain but willing to inform others.”

“Our Stalkings are also carrying the news,” Luma said. “We’ve created quite the ripple effect.”

“Let’s just hope they answer the call,” Jim said.

“Should they not,” Luma touched his shoulder, “we must hope still.”

They all gazed at her and nodded.

◇

“I sincerely apologize for setting your shop on fire, really! Why don’t we bury the hatchet?” Douxie jerked his phone away from his ear when the sorcerer on the line started screaming some choice words. “No, not in my skull please…C-Come on, mate! The world’s ending for real this time and we could really use your—Hello? Hello? Fuzzbuckets…”

Zoe shook her head, still on the phone. “Thanks, Regina. Tell everyone I said hey. Alright. Bye.” She hung up and sighed at Douxie. “What was that, the fifth one?”

“Fourth one, thank you very much,” Douxie grumbled. “You know, half of these offenses were Archie’s idea!”

“And you went along with all of them,” Zoe said.

Douxie crossed his arms. “Well you’re not entirely innocent. Don’t act like you never participated in some of our tomfoolery. And how many warlocks and fortune tellers have you stolen from for your,” he waved his fingers, “hedge witchy shenanigans, hm?”

Zoe met his playful tone with a smirk. “First of all, my missions with you guys never ended in the accidental destruction of property or someone yelling, ‘You’re gonna pay for this, Casperan!.’ And second, I’m not buddies with people I’ve stolen from.”

“Including me?” Douxie said, feigning hurt. “Because you’ve definitely stolen from me.”

“What? I have not!”

“I think you have.”

“When?”

Douxie grinned and started counting on his fingers. “Oh I don’t know, my little knife when we first met, my boots so I would stop following you around, my bracelet that one time…” My heart. “Just to name a few things.”

Zoe rolled her eyes. “Okay, I didn’t keep any of it so technically I didn’t steal anything.”

“Not true.” It came out quiet, and as soon as he said it, Douxie’s cheeks warmed. But he gave a little more. “There’s…something of mine you stole a long time ago. And I’m certain I’ll ever get it back from you.”

Their eyes met and the teasing was over.

“What are you talking about?” Zoe asked, but for some reason her heart started racing. When Douxie didn’t answer, just kept taking her in with his golden eyes, she took a breath. “By the way, what were you going to say earl—”

A shadow portal manifested and out came the Trollhunters. Douxie hurried over to throw his arms around Jim. Zoe squeezed Claire in a hug.

“Glad you all made it back,” Douxie said. He ruffled Jim’s hair.

“How’d it go?” Zoe asked.

“Lot of heebie jeebies but news of the impending doom is getting around so there’s that?” Toby said.

“I suppose that’s not the worst report,” Douxie sighed. “All we can do now is hope.”

They followed Douxie to the foyer to make Charlemagne’s acquaintance.

“Welcome back guys!” Eli said while his serrator scraped against Steve’s axe.

“Still no sign the of the Arcane Buttsnacks,” Steve added. “Get ready for the Palchuk Swing, Pepperjack!” He pushed Eli off and spun into another strike. The Creepslayerz continued their sparing while the others reconvened with Aja, who was engrossed in another one of Charlemagne’s stories.

“Dragons are infamous for collecting treasures. But Troll Dragons are unusually bewitched by whatever sparkles,” Charlemagne said. “Which is why the late Troll Dragon King, Zong Shi, met his demise. It was his insatiable greed. Didn’t even care for his own flock!”

“He let them all die to save his own scales,” Archie huffed.

“He sounds like an awful king,” Aja said. “All he cared about was himself.”

Charlemagne smiled softly and poked Aja’s cheek. “And what do you care about, Your Majesty?”

“Not just myself,” Aja said quickly, in earnest. “I care about my friends. I care about my planet and this planet and everything in it.” She stared at her hands in her lap, core aching. “I’d do anything, everything I could, to protect them.”

“Now that’s the heart of a Queen!” Charlemagne laughed. “Oho, my apologies. Core, is it? That is the core-rect term!”

At this point, Archie had stopped trying. But Aja couldn’t help but be tickled every time. She chuckled into her hands while her friends rolled their eyes and tried not to laugh.

“And I thought my jokes were bad,” Toby said.

“Mmm they still are,” Jim said.

Toby snapped his finger guns. “And you still love me!”

Aja quieted. She had a sense of why Charlemagne had told her about a lousy king, a ruler who chose selfish ambition over caring for his citizens. Charlemagne said she had the heart of a Queen. Her core glowed with gratitude, yet continued to burn with shame. The memory was still there, a deep cut that was still fresh.

“I couldn’t save those people,” Aja said quietly.

“You’re right. You could not,” Charlemagne said.

Archie glared. “Father!”

“Let me finish, Archibald. You couldn’t save them, but you made an effort! And while your efforts failed, you,” Charlemagne pointed over Aja’s core, “have not. Why, in this old dragon’s eyes is no failure, but what a Queen ought to be!”

Claire settled next to Aja and touched her arm. “I gotta say I agree.”

“Same here,” Jim said.

“I’ve met some pretty heinous nitwits of rulers in my day,” Douxie said. “You’re not even close, darling.”

“And you’re not alone.” Aja looked up to see Steve coming closer. He knelt and took two of her hands, looked into her eyes. “Not to quote some lame musical or whatever, but we’re in this together. We’re here for you, Aja.” He cradled her cheek. “I’m here for you.”

Tears swamped her eyes in seconds and she threw her arms around him. “I’m so sorry I snapped at you.”

“It’s cool, Aj,” Steve said, folding her into his embrace. “You’re still my Akiridion Ninja Queen Honey Muffin.”

Aja giggled and pulled back, brushing tears away. “My adorable blond oaf.” Steve chuckled and booped her nose. She peppered kisses all over his face before landing on his lips.

Steve inhaled, enraptured by his bubbly bright blue angel, Aja Tarron. “I’m like the most biggest, highest percent sure that I’m in love with you.”

Aja gasped, then melted into breathy laughter. “I love you, too, Steve!” They smooched again, both smiling ear to ear, the sound of someone coughing going right over their heads.

“Awww!” Eli said.

“That’s sweet,” Douxie said.

“Yeah,” Zoe whispered. Her eyes flickered to Douxie, and he just missed it.

Steve and Aja broke apart, foreheads touching.

“Thank you.” Aja looked around at her friends, affection and gratefulness flowering in her chest. “Thank you.”

“Aja!!” Everyone turned to see Krel running into the foyer. He slowed to catch his breath.

Aja hurried to him. “Krel? What is it? What’s the matter?”

When Krel looked up, his eyes were shimmering. “It’s Varvatos! He’s awake!”

They all booked it to the servants’ quarters. Varvatos was sitting upright, Nari, the Blanks, and Luug with him. Aja sprinted to throw all four arms around him. The others gathered around the bed, relieved smiles on their faces.

“Varvatos Vex is still recovering, Your Majesty,” Varvatos rasped, but he hugged her back tight.

“Thank Seklos!” Aja cried into his shoulder. “I-I thought you were gone! I thought we’d lost you!”

Krel joined the embrace, weeping softly. “We’re so happy you came back, Varvatos.”

“Varvatos Vex will always come back for his royals,” Varvatos said. “However…he does fear his core is permanently damaged.”

“What?” Aja looked at Krel, then at Nari. “What does he mean?”

“My magic and your brother’s technology were able to restore your friend’s soul,” Nari said. “But it has been deeply scarred by Bellroc.” Her gaze went to Varvatos. “It has left his life core weakened and fragile.”

“If his core gets hit again,” Krel’s voice broke, “he’s not going to make it.” He wiped his eyes with his arm. “But I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Aja gazed at Varvatos, her guardian and mentor. One more slip up, one more lapse in focus, one wrong move and he’d be gone. Another lost. She gripped Varvatos’ hand and cried, the very thought crushing her to the point of breaking.

Varvatos kneaded her hands. “There is no need to shed tears. Varvatos Vex will be just fine.”

“I’m so sorry,” Aja sobbed. “I let this happen.”

“M-Me, too,” Krel said. “I couldn’t help you.”

“You need not blame yourselves,” Varvatos said, gruff but gentle. “It is simply the nature of fearsome, glorious battle. And Varvatos Vex doesn’t feel his royals have failed him.” He tucked away a strand of Aja’s hair, eyes going tender on her and Krel. “What a glorious Queen and King In Waiting you’ve become. There is no greater honor for Varvatos Vex…for me than to fight by your sides. Words cannot formulate how proud I am. How proud your parents would be.”

Aja and Krel’s eyes flooded with more tears and they rushed back into Varvatos’ arms. Luug wiggled into the embrace, barking and slobbering all over their faces. Aja laughed, scooping the little purple alien up. Steve kissed the top of her head. Krel and Eli hooked arms around each other’s shoulders with a fist bump. Ricky and Lucy, being the Blanks, squeezed the daylights out of all of them.

“I’m just glad Varvatos is with us again. Thanks to my amazing little brother and,” Aja looked over at a certain forest child, “Nari.” She went over to hold Nari close. “Thank you so much.”

Nari hugged her back with a giggle. “It is my joy.”

“You are a joy,” Aja said.

“That she is!” Douxie hoisted Nari onto his back.

“You are all my joy!” Nari said. Douxie spun her around and she squealed in delight.

Smiles and laughter all around. Thunder boomed outside. Rain continued to lash against the castle. The darkness was ever present, drawing ever closer. But what had been rekindled in their hearts in this moment, the smallest flame of peace, filled the space with unmatched radiance.

Jim pondered that fateful day at the canal, as he’d done countless times. Aja and Krel thought on the siege of Akiridion-5, their crash landing on this speck in the universe called Earth. Centuries of hiding in shadows and keeping others at arm’s length came to Douxie’s mind. Everything that brought them all here. All the trials, all the loss, all the pain to follow. None of them would wish it upon anyone. But as they gazed around the room, their hearts were warm and thankful.

Jim fell into conversation with Zoe, which was soon interrupted by the Blanks advertising toasters. Aja greeted Blinky and Aaarrrgghh, ever enthralled. Charlemagne dipped his head and she stroked his snout. Krel and Claire rescued Archie from a happy Luug’s mandibles. Nari sat with Eli and asked him about being so close to the stars. Douxie relaxed next to Steve and Toby as they listened to yet another Varvatos speech about pulverizing one’s enemies.

Friendships they wouldn’t give up for the world.

◇

Trollmarket’s Heartstone glinted with every crash of lightning. The storm had gotten so turbulent at one point that they’d shuttered all the nearby windows. Douxie leaned on the windowsill, mind wandering as he looked out into the squalling night. Six hours since they’d all returned from facing the Titans, and the Order was still yet to be seen. Dawn was surely approaching, hidden behind the thick wall of black clouds. Douxie had been through his fair share of near apocalypses. But this time he truly wondered if the sun would ever come out again. Douxie frowned. No. They had Nari. They had one another, so anything was possible. They had hope. Despite the doubt, despite the fear of what was to come, there was always hope.

“Great Eternity,” Douxie whispered. “I don’t know where you are or if you can hear me. But we could really use your help, mate.”

“Talking to yourself?” Zoe had found him in the hallway. She smiled then joined him at the window. “Keep it together, Casperan.” Douxie rolled his eyes with a chuckle. They both gazed at the Heartstone for a silent moment. “Not that I’m complaining but…what’s taking the Order so long? Part of me wishes they’d just show up already.”

“I’ve been wondering, too. Last time they took a while, it was because they were injured,” Douxie said. “Maybe Skrael had a number done on him.”

Zoe saddened. “Wouldn’t rule that out, knowing Nomura.” She rested her head against Douxie’s shoulder when he brought her close. “Do you think we can win this one?”

“Some say faith, hope, and love are the three things that never go away,” Douxie said. “I think I believe that. And I think that’ll be enough.”

“You’re such a sap.”

“You’re not disagreeing so I can’t be the only one.”

Zoe’s eyes narrowed at the Heartstone. She softly asked, “How many times have we faced the end of the world, Douxie?”

Douxie followed her gaze. “I’ve lost count. We’ve…” Him and her. From plagues to world wars, evil magicks to supernatural catastrophes, asteroids to right now, Zoe had always been right by his side. He looked at her next to him, at her cute nose and pretty lashes and soft lips. With this current apocalypse having the most dreadful prospects to date, Douxie feared it would be their last. No more distractions then. “Zoe.”

“Yeah?” She turned to him, and her heart skipped. The way Douxie was looking at her, as if she was the only person in the whole world, made her flush. It wasn’t fair, when he looked at her like that. Her reasoning, her excuses, her satisfaction with remaining his closest friend forever, all of it came crumbling down. When Douxie looked at her like that, it made her think he felt the same way. It made her want to hear what he was going to say before.

“What I was trying to say earlier, if you recall…” Douxie’s cheeks warmed and his insides caught the jiggles. He took Zoe’s hands, latching on firm before he got cold feet. He heard her gasp and he thought it was utterly ridiculous how, even now as he was doing this, he was denying that her red face and eager eyes meant anything. “Zoe, you’ve been my closest friend for centuries. You’re…” Douxie swallowed. “You’re the most brilliant and brave and big hearted person I’ve ever met. I’ve always wanted to tell you that I don’t know where I would be if…if you hadn’t been a part of my life. If you hadn’t put up with me. Zoe, you’ve given me so much courage. You’ve always inspired me as a person and—and a musician and of course as a wizard and I—”

“I like you.”

Douxie stared at her, mouth open, words lost. Zoe stared back, breathing deep. A second passes, then ten. After fifteen, all Douxie could manage was a feeble, “...What?”

Zoe gulped. She was shaking. “I like you. When I first met you I thought you were, like, really annoying cause you wouldn’t leave me alone. But I liked that you did that. You…You were my first real friend. You didn’t give up on me. I like how you never give up on people. And how you stick up for them and take care of them. I like how you’re always so kind, even when you don’t have to be. I actually really like how reckless and dumb you can be. I like how you always do things your way, no matter what anyone thinks. You’re always unapologetically you. And I…I like everything about you. A lot.” Zoe squeezed Douxie’s hands. His big, warm, gentle hands. “I like you, Hisirdoux Casperan.”

Her words were an enchantment, leaving Douxie speechless still. When the spell finally settled upon his heart, all he could do was breathe a laugh. When it took full effect, Douxie’s legs nearly failed him. He tilted forward, his forehead coming to rest on Zoe’s shoulder. His heart danced and his aura sang in his spirit. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this happy.

“I love you,” Douxie said, voice thick with emotion. He gazed fully into her dazzling blue eyes. “I’m in love with you, Zoe Ashildr. I’ve always been in love with you.”

Then her arms were around his neck and his hands were cradling the small of her back.

“Is this for real?” Zoe whispered.

Douxie hugged her against him. A perfect fit. His lips brushed hers, the lightest touch that sent electricity rippling through his body.

“Does that answer your question?” Douxie breathed.

Zoe laughed, breathless with a single tear falling. “I love you, too.”

Douxie pressed his lips against hers, sliding one hand up to cup her cheek. Zoe unwound her arms from his neck, clung to his jacket and kissed him back. They’d both convinced themselves this moment would never happen, sharing a kiss that was real. No sneaking into balls or playing pretend for a mission. Just the two of them finding their harbored feelings reciprocated. It was everything they’d imagined and more. Zoe loved Douxie’s lips, chapped and warm. She loved how he always smelled like soap, burnt cloves, and motorcycle oil. Douxie wanted to keep Zoe in his arms forever. She was soft and sweet and always had the faint perfume of bubblegum. They pressed closer, lost in each other. Nothing else mattered. But when their lips broke apart, regret flooded in.

“I’m sorry I waited until now to tell you,” Douxie said. He touched his forehead to hers. “I was too afraid that I would lose your friendship. That I would lose you.”

Zoe’s fingers stroked his cheek. “Same. I mean even though you were attempting to hit on me when we first met, I didn’t think you actually…you know. And when we kissed in the past to dupe people, I thought that was all it was. I just always thought you were being you. Mister Chivalry and all.”

“I felt terrible whenever we had to do that,” Douxie said. “I was convinced you hated it.”

Zoe gazed into his beautiful golden eyes. She took his face in her hands and stood on her toes to kiss him. She pulled away only for Douxie to chase her lips into another one.

“Mordrax’s miracles, it’s about bloody time!”

They gasped out of their kiss and looked to see Archie and Nari peeking around the corridor entrance. Heat burgeoned in both their faces, but Douxie’s arm remained around Zoe’s waist as the pair approached. Nari bounded up to them, positively beaming.

“Oh this is so wonderful!” she said. “Douxie, you have finally done it! You have shared your love!”

“After nine hundred insufferable years,” Archie said as he hopped onto Douxie’s shoulder. “You both were driving me mad.”

“You always knew, didn’t you,” Douxie said.

“Merlin’s beard, everyone knew. Except the pair of you, evidently.”

Zoe turned redder, thinking back on her talk with Claire. “That’s…a little embarrassing.”

“No, it is beautiful.” Nari held hands with them. “Your romance is a gift. Are you going to get married now?”

A string of coughs seized Douxie while Zoe’s face went an even brighter scarlet.

“T-That’s a bit…Well I mean, that would be nice,” Douxie sputtered. He couldn’t look Zoe in the face. “I-I mean would that…be nice? It would be nice if you thought so, Zo, but you don’t have to think that would be nice if you don’t—”

“It,” Zoe’s eyes flickered to his, “would be…nice. I mean we agreed a long time ago we’d be in each other’s lives forever.” She lifted her face to look at him properly. A soft smile. “I guess in that way we’re already an old married couple.”

“Heavens knows you both act like one,” Archie sighed. He leapt off Douxie’s shoulder and rejoined Nari on the ground. “Might as well be official.” For all his snark, Archie’s eyes were nothing short of fond elation as he watched his Familiar and the love of his life.

Douxie held Zoe’s coy gaze. The implications of her words brushed his heart and he couldn’t help smiling back, a breathless laugh leaving him. Yet he knew it wasn’t the time to fixate on it. The thought of that time never coming brooded in the back of his mind along with the regret of having waited a millennium. So Douxie just cradled Zoe’s cheek and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering long. She smiled and leaned into him, holding his arm around her waist.

“Have you ever been in love, Nari?” Douxie asked. “Just wondering.”

“Oh yes. I love you and all of my friends very much,” Nari said.

He chuckled. “No, I meant romantically.”

Nari cocked her head. “Mm, no. My father did not create us with such feelings.”

“Righto. All the lads in the world are safe then,” Douxie muttered. Zoe elbowed him.

“We love you, too, by the way,” she said, stroking Nari’s hair.

Nari’s eyes glimmered. She was about to respond when footsteps echoed down the corridor. Jim and Claire turned the corner.

“There you guys are,” Jim said.

“I was wondering where you disappeared to, Teach,” Claire said. “I had some questions about my magic…” She spotted Douxie’s arm around Zoe’s waist. Realization sparked in her eyes and a smile formed. “Wait…Are you guys…?”

Zoe simpered with a slight nod.

“Oh my gosh!” Claire squealed, hands on her cheeks. “I freaking knew it! I’m so happy for you guys! I’m so telling Aja and the others.”

“Looks like we were all right,” Jim said.

“Was it really that obvious?” Douxie asked, baffled.

Jim smirked and crossed his arms. “Oh yeah.”

Douxie and Zoe shared a look before sighing through smiles of defeat. His arm slipped from around her waist so he could take her hand, their fingers linking.

“So what was your magical question, Claire?” Douxie asked.

“Something feels…off. In my aura,” Claire said. She looked at her palms. “It’s like something’s pressing in on me and I’m pretty sure it’s not good.”

Douxie examined himself and found he had no such inklings. As he pondered it, unease permeated his lungs.

“You’re naturally gifted with shadow magic,” Douxie said, “which makes you more sensitive to the presence of darkness. Which means…”

“The Order. They must be getting closer,” Zoe said, squeezing Douxie’s hand.

“We need to tell the others and get ready,” Jim said. In the corner of his eye, Nari moved to the window. “Nari?”

Her palm touched the glass as she stared intently at the Heartstone. Then she bent her fingers, claws scratching the sinister night.

“It is time,” Nari uttered. She focused on her faint reflection. “This time, I will do what is right.” She turned back to her friends, eyes mournful and determined. “I did not fight against Bellroc and Skrael before. But now, I will make sure they do not win. I will use my Titan, all of my strength, against them. So that what was meant to destroy will instead be a weapon for goodness.”

“Now that’s what I call a pep talk!” Douxie said. He noticed Jim go wide-eyed. “Uh, Jim? You alright?”

Actually, Jim was having an epiphany. Nari’s words struck the back of his mind and similar words bursted forth.

“It could have destroyed you. Then, it was made to destroy. Still you have remained.”

Fragments of memories flashed, as though a gate had been flung wide open in his brain. His troll form. The school. The ball of light. The stars. His reflection in the pond. The voices.

“I remember,” Jim gasped. He looked at Claire. “I remember my dream!”

“Your dream?” Archie said.

Something compelled Jim to walk right up to the window. For the first time in a year, he looked right at his reflection and took it in. The shape of his face. The color of his eyes. The scar on his brow. He waited for the crippling anxiety to come, for the shame to wring his neck, for the monster to warp his features. His heart hammered and his breathing was rapid, but this time it was different. Now that Jim remembered it, the realness of the dream flooded through him. That moment of looking into the pond as a troll and seeing his human face shone clear in his mind.

“Jim…!” Claire watched him, nervous and shocked. “A-Are you…okay?”

“Yeah.” Jim looked at his friends. “Yeah…I think I am. Parts of it are still fuzzy but…In my dream, I was troll again. It started off as another nightmare. But then I heard your voices. And then there was this pond and all of you guys, all of my friends were there. Then things were okay. I looked into the pond and…” Jim touched his face. “I saw myself. My human self. And then this crazy thing happened where I was human again and my reflection turned into my troll self. It was…It felt so real.”

The dreamy scene of every one of Jim’s friends and loved ones surrounding him around the pond overwhelmed him. Claire, Toby, his mom, Blinky, Aja, Steve, Douxie, Nari. Nomura. All of their voices, full of nothing but love and encouragement for him, soothed Jim’s mind like a melody.

“I love you, Jim. We all do.” Claire.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, mate.” Douxie.

“We’re all here for you no matter what.” Eli.

“Best friends forever and ever.” Toby.

“Nothing is lost.” Luma.

“Not Jim’s fault.” Aaarrrgghh.

“You’re the same to me.” Krel.

“I see no beast within you.” Nari.

“I’ve seen enough monsters in my day. You’re nowhere close.” Nomura.

“Take a look, Young Atlas. It’s alright.” Walter.

“You’ll always be my boy.” Mom.

“A champion. A friend. A son. A magnificent son. I see it still.” Blinky.

Jim’s friends had been telling him these things over and over, constant reassurance. Not once did they ever relent in their support, even though he couldn’t believe it. But for some reason now, their words were clicking into place. He could hear them a little better, a little louder. Maybe the dream had felt so real because, Jim was beginning to consider, it was real. Perhaps that’s the reason he’d chased that ball of iridescent light like a lifeline. It’d been the truth all along.

“Guys, I…” Jim blinked, expelling tears he hadn’t noticed gathering. He looked back at himself in the window. His gaze sharpened. “There’s something I have to do.”

They found everyone in the foyer, Varvatos having regained the strength to stand. A modified breastplate was secured to his chest, electric blue lines of Akiridion influence making Vs down the steel. He was having a quick spar with Aja, putting the sturdiness of its protection to the test.

Walter and Barbara finally rejoined the group, Walter speaking quietly with Blinky while Barbara checked on everyone else. Aja took notice of Douxie and Zoe’s intertwined hands and let out a giddy cheer. Eli clapped his hands while Steve hooted and hollered. The Blanks belted a very flat and pitchy version of “The Wedding March.” Once everyone was done teasing and gushing over the new relationship, they had to break the news.

“The Order’s on their way. Claire’s feeling their presence,” Douxie said.

“About time,” Walter said, low and quiet. The look in his eyes could melt steel.

In the midst of all the nerves, Jim murmured a request to Krel. Surprise lit on Krel’s face, but at Jim’s certain gaze, he nodded and asked for Aaarrrgghh’s assistance. Minutes later the pair returned, and in Aaarrrgghh’s grasp was the slab of earth that sheathed Excalibur.

Realization dawned on the group, and they all fixed their eyes on Jim with bated breath as he slowly approached the sword.

“Master Jim, are you certain?” Blinky asked.

Jim nodded, determined to keep his eyes forward. He dared to meet Excalibur’s green gem, braved stepping closer to the sword’s ethereal shine. But then it came. Whispers of doubt and fear. A burning sensation on his skin. It was too bright, searing right through him. But Jim didn’t stop. He climbed onto the rock and took hold of the sword’s hilt.

“You good, Lake?” Steve asked, noticing how hard Jim was breathing.

“I-I’m fine. I can do this. I can…” He was trembling. His teeth chattered and he swallowed hard, closing his eyes, trying to concentrate. When Jim looked again, the brightness was painful. His knees wobbled. The green gems were starting to glare. “N-No…No, I—”

A hand touched the rock, then several more, circling Jim’s feet and Excalibur’s hidden blade. Jim looked around to see all of his friends smiling back at him.

“We’ve got you,” Aja said.

“Together, mate!” Douxie said.

“We believe you can pull it off!” Charlemagne laughed.

The dream and all its empowerment beamed through Jim’s mind, filled his heart. So he clung to it as he refastened his grip on the sword and started pulling.

Take hold.

Jim furrowed his brows at a voice he didn’t quite recognize, yet it was giving him strength all the same. Excalibur wiggled.

Remain and become. Become and talk hold. Take hold and become.

Jim caught a hint of his reflection in the shining handle, and he recalled the pond, the troll in the water. Gasps and laughter sounded around as the mighty blade slid free inch by inch. Heat radiated in Jim’s torso, deep in his gut and chest. Excalibur’s surface flashed bright and everyone shielded their eyes as a beam of light shot towards the ceiling. A clap of thunder boomed, so boisterous the entire castle seemed to shudder.

Become.

Jim unsheathed Excalibur with a shout, raising its blade to the heavens. He was shrouded in blinding light and his body overflowed with blazing energy. It was power unlike any he’d ever felt.

Become.

Zipping down the halls of Camelot, rocketing into the foyer, came Jim’s reforged Amulet of Daylight. Toby ducked his head as it found its place over Jim’s heart, its gears spinning wildly as his brilliant armor clicked into place.

In darkness. In daylight. Become!

One more blast of light, and then the brightness finally dimmed. Everyone gradually lowered their arms away from their faces.

“Oh my gosh,” Claire gasped, her eyes blown wide.

“No way…,” Toby breathed.

“Master Jim!” Blinky uttered. “You’re…!”

Wild hair. Blue skin. Horns and fangs. Taller. Standing upon the rock, wielding Excalibur, was an armor-clad Jim in his troll form. Jim stared back at them, trying to catch his breath. He held Excalibur in front of his troll face, inhaling sharply at his transformed mirror image.

“How?” Douxie whispered.

Claire shook her head, her worry rising. “No…Jim—”

“It’s okay.” Jim gazed at her, then back into the sword. He watched the troll blink as he did, breathe as he did. There was a twinge of horror pricking him. The fear was still there, brushing the back of his mind. But as Jim looked at his friends, their faces weren’t twisted in disgust. No one was running for the hills in terror. He looked at his mom, her undeniable love for him still intact. Despite the anxiety, Jim felt it. He knew. “I’m still me.”

His body tingled. In a golden puff of light, he was human again, his armor shrinking with him.

Toby nearly fell backwards. “W-Whoa!”

“Great Gaylon!” Krel said. “How did you do that?”

Jim went for it again. He closed his eyes, focusing on this new energy teeming in his veins. Another puff, and he was a troll again.

“Impossible…,” Walter said. “Young Atlas, you’re…a changeling!”

Jim stepped off the rock and reverted back to a human. He positioned Excalibur over his back, the sword fitting itself against his armor like a magnet.

“I-I…I guess so.” He looked at Douxie. “Could I always do that?”

“I’m afraid I’m just as perplexed,” Douxie said. He breathed a laugh. “Magic never ceases to amaze me.”

Charlemagne gave Jim a sniff. “Very curious. Even this old dragon’s never seen anything like this.”

“I have not either,” Nari said. “Changelings have only been Morgana’s work.” She came closer, searching Jim’s eyes. “How do you feel?”

Jim contemplated, wondered how in the world he’d even begin to comprehend this. But as his eyes roamed over each of his friends’ faces, it made more and more sense.

“Obviously some kind of magic is at play here,” he said. “But…I think I can do this because of you guys. I felt so useless and I couldn’t stop hating myself. I felt like a monster. I felt so…broken.” Jim’s heart welled. “Claire. Tobes. Blink, Aaarrrgghh, Walter, M-Mom. You guys didn’t give up on me. You took care of me. And all of you guys. Doux, Aja, Krel…I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you.” His voice quivered. “Whatever magic this is, I think it’s because of you guys. It’s because I have such awesome friends. I love you guys.” The tears started spilling down Jim’s cheeks. “I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused. Thanks for being here for me.”

He was wrapped in hugs from all sides.

“Oh sweetie,” was all Barbara could say through her sobs. She kissed Jim’s forehead. “You haven’t been any trouble.”

“I love you, Mom.” Jim sniffled into her shirt.

“I love you so much, honey. I’m so proud of you. I’ve never not been proud of you.”

“We’ll always be here for you, Jimbo,” Toby blubbered.

“We love you,” Claire said.

They all stepped back as Blinky came to grab Jim’s shoulders, all six of his eyes glowing.

“How you’ve become, Master Jim,” Blinky said. “Just as you have time and time again.” Jim rushed into his four arms. “Excalibur’s worthiest master.”

“Ugh…!” Claire clutched her chest and dropped to her knees. Jim and Douxie rushed to her side. “T-The feeling…! I-It’s getting worse…!”

Jim looked at Douxie. “They’re close.”

“Seems that way.” Douxie grabbed Claire’s arm. “You’re alright, lass. Deep breath, that’s it.” He closed his eyes, his bracelet lighting as he murmured a chant. Nari set her hands on Claire’s back and joined him. After a minute, the tension in Claire’s body loosened. “Better?”

“A little bit. Thanks guys,” Claire said as Jim helped her up.

“The hour is upon us,” Charlemagne said. “We best get to formulating.”

“Right. Let’s all meet at the Round Table,” Douxie said. While everyone processed to the Hall, Douxie spotted Zoe and Krel heading elsewhere. “Where are you going?”

Zoe and Krel looked at each other.

“We need to grab something from the study to show everyone,” Zoe said. She took his hand. “It’s pretty important.”

Douxie raised a brow, but didn’t question it. He gave her hand a squeeze. “Alright, love. See you in a bit.”

Zoe blushed. “Right back at you…love.”

Douxie smiled and kissed her knuckles, ignoring Krel’s deepset grimace.

“Ai yi yi….”

Aja was addressing the group when Douxie joined them. “All of my troops will be here in less than one horvath. We will have an entire planet of soldiers. Izita and Eli will command our aerial fighters. Varvatos and Zadra will lead our troops on the ground.”

“Harmonia and the Quagawump trolls are with us,” Jim said. “Other than them, we’re not too sure. But it definitely ups our numbers. And these guys can dish it out and take it no problem. Doux?”

Douxie winced. “Zoe’s got plenty of magic-doers on our side. If I have convinced anyone, most of them might be after my neck as well, haha…Um, Nari! What’s your game plan?”

“I will do my best to keep my siblings away from the Heartstone,” Nari said. “When they arrive, I will behave as though I am still under their spell. It will give me a chance to strike them first.”

“A surprise attack. Nice,” Jim said.

“Douxie, when I give my signal I will need you, Zoe, and Claire to join me,” Nari said. “Then we will perform the spell I taught you on them.”

“But…I thought you said we didn’t need the spell to beat them,” Claire said.

“We do not need the spell to kill them. But I do not want to kill them. The spell will only remove their physical forms—”

“You don’t want to kill them?” Walter snarled, slamming his fist on the table. His pupils were black slits. “After everything they’ve done, everything they’ve taken, you still want to play your little mercy game, nymph?”

“Walter…!” Barbara pleaded.

Nari looked upset. “No, no it is not a game. That is not at all what I—”

“You said it yourself. So many lives have been lost because you didn’t deal with the Order sooner. And here we thought you’d come to your senses—”

“Hey!” Douxie stood behind Nari and glared Walter down across the room. “I think you’ve said enough, mate.”

“Nomura would’ve said the same thing,” Walter hissed. Grief mingled with the rage in his eyes. He hung and shook his head. “I…I apologize, Nari. But they need to pay for what they’ve done.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to take their lives,” Douxie said.

“So then what? We let them have another chance at fulfilling the apocalypse?”

“We shouldn’t let hate be our motivation, Walt,” Jim said.

“Hatred has nothing to do with wanting to save the world, Young Atlas.”

“Varvatos Vex is leaning more towards the winged green one’s reasoning,” Varvatos said.

“No surprises there,” Toby muttered.

“Whether or not the Order dies, we’ll need to find an opening first,” Aja said. “These are ancient, powerful, and skilled fighters. We have to make them vulnerable, and that won’t be easy.”

“I think we have a solution for that.” Zoe and Krel stood in the entrance way. In Krel’s hands was an Akiridion coded shotgun with a long, bell-shaped barrel. He placed it carefully on the Table.

“That’s pretty brutal, dudes,” Steve said.

“Not that kind of firearm, Steve,” Krel said. “Zoe and I have been working on something for the past couple of delsons.”

“We didn’t want to say anything and get everyone’s hopes up, in case we couldn’t make it work,” Zoe said. “But I think we’ve done it.”

She nodded at Krel. In his palm was a chip the size of a strip of gum. Krel glided his finger over it, activating the holographic blueprint of what looked to be a net, dots connected across its webbing like constellations. Upon further inspection, Douxie realized the lines and points created magic runes. Powerful ones.

“Now what’s this all about?” Charlemagne asked.

“The arcane nets. We built two of them,” Krel said. “One for Bellroc, one for Skrael. I’ve loaded them both into this net gun.” He held up two fingers. “Two shots. If we can trap them in these nets, their magic will be completely nullified.”

“Come again?” Douxie said, sharing everyone’s bewilderment. “How’s that even possible?”

“Well we were starting to think it wasn’t,” Zoe said. “Even though magic and Akiridion tech are compatible, the nets weren’t working. But…I had a friend of mine send me some of these.” She held up a bundle of cloth, pulling back layers to reveal a colorless transparent stone, smooth as marble with spinning threads of monochrome within. Bits of it had been chipped off.

“What is that?” Eli asked.

“A sealing stone!” Douxie met Zoe’s gaze. “So...you think these arcane nets will work now?”

“They should,” Zoe said.

“Should? Meaning you didn’t test them again?” Jim asked.

“We didn’t want to risk it,” Krel said, glancing at Zoe. “I was able to replicate your original Amulet’s power. Our theory is that incorporating these stone fragments into the arcane nets will yield similar results. If that’s the case…Zoe would lose her magic abilities for one horvath. Maybe longer, depending on how the technology and magic have configurated. Which would not be good.”

Douxie sighed. “No arguments there.”

“I really do think we have something here,” Zoe said. “But regardless, we have to try. Removing the Order’s magic is our best shot.”

“Literally,” Toby said.

“Then let’s go for it,” Jim said.

Krel nodded. “Leave it to me.”

“We’ll turn those Arcane Butt-klebs into magicless burritos!” Aja declared, punching her two left palms.

Steve hooked her waist with his arm. “Right on, Queen babe!”

“When that happens,” Walter glowered at Nari, “what will you do?”

She met his gaze, pain and conflict within her own. “I am sorry. For all of this. I promise I will do everything in my power to stop them. But I will say again. I do not want to kill my siblings.”

More anger darkened Walter’s face.

“The Order won’t win, Walt,” Barbara said. She moved in front of him and touched his arm. “Isn’t that all that matters?”

“No,” he said softly. “It isn’t.”

“I know what it’s like to lose the ones I love,” Krel said. He shared a sad glance with Aja. “It’s unbearable. I was so angry. I almost did something I would regret.” He looked at a repentant Varvatos. “I miss my parents every delson. But vengeance isn’t the answer.”

“I miss Nomura like crazy. We all do,” Claire said, blinking back tears. “But Nari still cares about them. And…I care about what she wants.” She smiled in Nari’s direction. “No matter what, she’ll do the right thing.”

“We can still do right by Nomura, by everyone, without letting our anger control us,” Jim said.

Uneasy silence fell over the Hall as Walter continued to pin Nari down with his stare. Several long seconds passed before he folded his arm and looked off to the side, having nothing else to say.

Douxie cleared his throat. “Right. That’s our plan then. Nari will handle the Fire and Ice Titans. Aja and Krel will focus on securing the arcane nets around Bellroc and Skrael. The rest of us will deal with whatever monstrosities emerge and wait for Nari’s signal. But take blows at the Titans whenever you can. We have to keep them away from the Heartstone or it’s game over.” His eyes swept over all their faces and his chest tightened. “Stay alive.”

The rest was unspoken.

Jim put his hand out. Claire and Toby joined him, then Aja and Krel, then Douxie and Zoe, Steve and Eli. Archie leaned in off Douxie’s shoulder, extending a wing towards the pile. Nari beamed and went up on the balls of her feet to reach. Barbara and Walter stood behind Jim with arms outstretched. The Blanks tried to squeeze in wherever they could, Luug wiggling in Lucy’s hold. Blinky, Aaarrrgghh, Varvatos, and Charlemagne formed a protective outer circle. The Guardians of Arcadia regarded one another. United in their resolve, and moved in their hearts by the friendships they’d made.

This family they’d become.

◇

Jim looked at himself in the window. His mom had boarded the last evacuation ship with the rest of Arcadia Oaks. But not before showing him a light blue diamond ring on her left hand.

“That’s awesome, Mom,” Jim had said, hugging her close. “I’m happy for you guys.”

“Thanks, sweetie.” Barbara took her son’s face in her hands and just looked at him. “I want to say ‘Don’t be a hero.’ But I know that nothing can stop you. You’ve always been a hero. My hero. It’s just who you are.”

“You were my hero first, Mom.” Jim sniffled. “I uh…I think NotEnrique would make a perfect flower girl.”

Barbara laughed and hugged him. “All your friends are invited.”

All Jim could do was hold her tight and let his tears fall.

Now as he watched a deep crimson hue bleed across the black sky, Jim’s fears were tamed. He closed his eyes, feeling the fit of his armor and the weight of Excalibur on his back. His body burned, but it didn’t hurt.

Don’t think. Become.

Jim opened his eyes to his troll self in the glass.

“Many of you fought alongside my mother and father,” Aja said. She was broadcasted on every screen of the Akiridion fleets headed for Earth, her people listening intently. “Thank you for fighting by my side now, for this little mudball planet your King In Waiting and I have come to love. But this isn’t just a battle for Earth. This is a war for the universe itself. House Tarron and Akiridion-5 will always fight for what’s right!”

In the Hall of The Round Table, Krel ran his fingers over the net gun. He’d never been much of a warrior. At least, that’s what he’d come to believe. Maybe he couldn’t lead an army, or skillfully wield a serrator with three hands behind his back like his father could. Instead his greatest declarations, his statements in the face of adversity, had always been what he built with his mind and hands. It was how he protected what mattered most.

Krel strapped the net gun to his back.

Maybe the core of who he was was enough.

[It’s okay to be afraid. I’m quite terrified myself, if I’m being honest. I may be a Master Wizard now, but I’m the furthest thing from invincible.]

Douxie stilled his thumbs on his phone, thinking. He took a breath and kept typing.

[Merlin used to tell me a wizard never makes mistakes. So I want to relay that to you, fellow magicians. And it doesn’t matter if we’re on top of the world or at the darkest, lowest points within ourselves. Unexpected possibilities await us. Isn’t it astounding, what a little bit of magic can do?]

[I have my doubts. But it won’t stop me from trying. It won’t stop me from fighting for what’s right. I hope any fears you have won’t stop you either. Take heart. Be courageous. Stay true. Then nothing will be impossible. Not even today.]

He sent it to the massive text group he’d compiled.

“That’s a good little speech,” Zoe said, peeking at the screen to skim.

“Encouragement goes a long way,” Douxie said, pocketing his phone. “The current situation is a wee bit stressful.”

“Just another doomsday.” Zoe faced him as he took her hands. Douxie kissed her and warmth fluttered through her.

“I can’t believe I can do that whenever I want to now,” Douxie said, grinning against her lips. “You’re adorable when you blush.”

Zoe narrowed her eyes. “I think you’re really hot.”

She had no idea a person’s face could go that red that fast. Douxie was rendered a flushed, sputtering statue of a man. Zoe snickered into her fist.

“Do you…you really think…so?” Douxie murmured, barely above a whisper. The answer was yes but Zoe just kept laughing.

Nari had mounted her Titan and moved deeper into the forest until Camelot was in the far distance. She watched the red stained darkness, scanning way beyond the town’s borders for further sign of her siblings. It came in the form of a screeching roar piercing through the thunder, and a thin layer of frost draping across the woodland. The Forest Titan reared its head towards the sound, lifted its front legs away from the cold. Nari faced the clouds as the Fire Titan descended from their depths, streams of red fire turning sheets of rain to mist. The landscape ruptured as giant icicles exploded from the horizon and rapidly overtook the forest. The Ice Titan smashed through an icy wall, stomping its way closer.

The Forest Titan inched forward to meet its siblings. Nari steeled herself, hid her emotions away as Bellroc circled above before landing beside her, the earth trembling under the Fire Titan’s mass. Her eyes fell upon Skrael, and she had to grind her teeth to halt any outward reaction. His left arm had been severed. In its place was a new appendage of black ice, markings of fiery red and frosty blue wrapping the limb like tattered bandages. It remained stiff and unmoving at his side. Skrael’s eyes glinted with cold, lethal hatred. Nari had never seen him so angered.

“How sentimental of you to wait for us, Nari.” Bellroc’s low reverberating voice grated Nari’s ears. “Would you look at what your disgusting ‘friends’ did to our brother. They deserve the agony we’re about to inflict, don’t you agree?”

“Enough waiting!” Skrael spat. “I’ll kill them all. I want to watch them all writhe like worms and suffer! Nari!”

Nari swallowed. She willed her Titan to stand by Skrael’s side. A sickening grin stretched across Bellroc’s face. The three Titans advanced towards the Heartstone’s light, ice and lava trailing behind. As they entered the town and neared the Heartstone, they were met with the Guardians of Arcadia already there, standing guard upon surrounding rooftops.

Douxie magicked up a megaphone. “You can stop right there, you elemental goliaths!”

“So you survived,” Bellroc hissed, “only to prolong your death.”

“We won’t let you do this,” Douxie said. His gaze flicked to Nari. “You’ve taken far too much, not only from us, but from the world you convinced yourselves you were protecting. When in reality, you’re nothing but heartless killers. You may have taken our friends. You may have taken Nari. But your campaign of terror ends today!”

Jim drew Excalibur. Claire’s palms filled with shadows. Toby twirled his hammer, Aaarrrgghh slamming tiles with his fists. Blinky was manning one of the mech suits, having loaded its cannons with dwarkstones. Walter leapt into the air and drew two knives.

The Creepslayerz struck their poses, Steve brandishing Toothache and Eli locking on with his serrator gun. Aja and Krel each had their own hoverboards now. Aja configured her serrator into a laser and took aim, Varvatos following suit. The Blanks smiled wide and flashed their cannons and torches. Luug growled with all four mandibles curled.

Charlemagne soared above and roared a battle cry. Pink electricity whipped between Zoe’s fingers. Smoke billowed from Archie’s jaws. Douxie poofed away the megaphone to replace it with his staff.

“Nari was never yours,” Skrael snarled. With a swing of his staff, the Ice Titan summoned an enormous shroud of cold mist. From the haze came a countless host of frospecters.

“You have our thanks for the entertainment,” Bellroc said. The Fire Titan belched a river of lava. Salamanders the size of crocodiles with igneous scales and feral six eyed hellhounds emerged from the infernal current by the thousands.

The Forest Titan bashed the ground with its front legs, hoards of carnifloras spewing forth from the earth. Gigantic venus flytraps, some with more than one head. Trees with multiple mouths crammed with razor teeth. Plants of every variety, sharp and pointy and drooling. A bloodthirsty jungle.

“You really think you can stand against us?” Bellroc shouted with a crazed smile, their firestorm eyes flaring.

Aja brought her hoverboard higher and yelled, “Actually, we do!”

On command, the entirety of the Akiridion fleets parted the black clouds, filling and illuminating the sky electric blue. Three hundred foot combat robots dropped from hatches, crushing buildings as they struck their landings. Hundreds of battle pods zipped alongside ships. One pod dove low. Izita opened the hatch for Zadra to leap out. She freefalled then flipped to land next to Varvatos, her double sided scythe drawn, not a single sweat broken. At that moment, Stuart’s taco truck came weaving down the road with its horn blaring.

“Hello there, your Majesties!” the putrid green alien hollered out his window. “Lovely weather for a brawl!”

Bellroc and Skrael glowered as more reinforcements came pouring into Arcadia Oaks from all sides.

Clans of trolls came rolling in. Quagawumps, flocks of Stalkings, the Geowarts with their gemstone blemishes, Gobble’s Grotto trolls, the diamond horned Diamarket trolls. Trolls with tiger stripes and polka dots, mohawks and walrus tusks, long necks and long limbs, blind trolls, deaf trolls. Trolls from far and wide. The Krubera came marching, wielding swords and spears. Gnome Chompsky rode in on NotEnrique’s back, hoards of gnomes flanking them.

“Just in time for the party!” NotEnrique said. He waved at Claire. “Good ta see ya, sis!”

Chompsky cackled his gibberish, raising a tiny knife. Excited garble rose from his fellow gnomes.

Luma strode forward with all of Harmonia. And, to everyone’s surprise, the Moonglow Hollow tribe had joined them.

“Eeeek!” Alabaster squealed, his spear shaking in his hands. His trolls mirrored his fright. “B-B-Big scary— I want t-to go home, I want to go hooome!”

“And you shall,” Luma said, drawing her dagger.

Last to arrive were armies of spell-casters hailing from all across the globe. Village healers and street performers. Shamans and psychics, alchemists and summoners, warrior mages and potioneers. The technomancers of Hex Tech. Vigilante warlocks and enchantresses. Even a few other shadowmancers. Wizards and witches who’d answered the call poofed, manifested, teleported, levitated into place alongside the heroes, magic at the ready.

Douxie jumped when an old stone-faced sorcerer glared his way. “C-Clancy Pendragon! Glad you could make it, old pal! Your turnips doing well?”

“I’m not your pal, Casperan” he grumbled.

“Hope that’s a yes…,” Douxie murmured.

The Arcane Order seethed and summoned even more monstrosities. Volcanic behemoths and skeletal frostbitten wolves the size of horses.

Cords of lightning lacerated the slate heavens. Thunder vibrated the atmosphere. The rainfall was cool and humid, relentless as both armies held in charged anticipation.

Bellroc sneered. “How shameful. Our fellow creatures of magic, you’ve all condemned yourselves with the mortal vermin.” They raised their staff. “Come, my siblings. Let us slaughter them all and torture their spirits as we reclaim this world!” Their eyes fixated on the Heartstone. “Yes, this wretched world and the stars beyond…Mine…It shall all be m—”

The Forest Titan rammed its sharpened antlers into the Fire Titan’s side, while its hind legs brutally smashed into the Ice Titan. Below, every single carniflora suddenly turned on the beasts of flame and frost, strangling and swallowing whole.

Warrior shouts erupted, rivaling the thunderclaps.

“For glory and Eternity!” Luma cried.

“For Nomura!” Walter snarled.

“For the good of all!” Jim roared. His friends echoed him.

The Guardians of Arcadia and their allies surged forward.

Previous Chapter

Author’s Notes : I’m so tired lol

Those of you who made it to the end of this insane chapter, thank you so much reading. Changeling!Jim wielding Excalibur has finally entered the ring >:D Also ZOUXIE!!!!!! >w<

Someone asked me who exactly the Great Eternity is. The best way I can explain it is by comparing him to the Arcane Order. Whereas the Arcane Order were the one pulling the strings throughout the series, I wanted Elyolam to be that but for the good guys. Hopefully it’ll make more sense by the end!

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Bless and thank you again for reading and for all your comments. I’m determined to have this fic completed by July 21st. In the meantime, onward to the final battle!

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zackcrazyvalentine · 3 years

Note

can i request malleus and reader’s future child time travelling to meet their parents when they still go to nrc pls 🙏 i just really think this is cute eeeEE

Heehee~ This prompt is always a fun one to see in fandoms

-- -- --

A bright light, the sensation of falling, a scream being torn from their throat, and finally, landing.

"U-U… U'cl Lilia..? P-Papa..?" They sniffled, hugging their trusty dragon plush close. "I-I don kno…" Tears stung their big round eyes.

The small one took some shaky breaths, wiping away the tears with their sleeves. This was somewhere unknown, somewhere outside of Valley of Thorns, so they should not let their guard down to cry.

Little feet began to walk, mesmerized by the seven looming figures surrounding them. "Ah! Gweat Wi'ch!" Their pace quickened once the horned figure crossed their line of sight.

Innocent to the onlookers' eyes, the toddler babbled words and letters engraved on the statue's pedestal.

"What is a child doing here?" Ace asked.

"Since when do kids visit this school? Aren't they too young to be on a school trip?" Jack threw the tiny figure a sideways glance.

Deuce was somewhat unsettled, "Are they lost? Didn't they wipe away tears?"

Ace snickered, "Say, Deuce, don't ya wanna be a policeman? They help lost kids~... Why don't you practice for the future?"

The blue haired glared at his friend, but before a retort could be said, Jack parted from the group.

"O-Oi, what do you think you're doing?!" Ace exclaimed in surprise.

However, their whole motions were stopped when a certain pistachio haired boy entered the scene.

"Just what do you think you're doing, child?! Show more respect to the great Witch of Thorns!" Sebek speedwalk directly to where the (now scared) kid stood.

"What are you doing touching her statue with dirty hands?! And reading her accomplishments in disarray?! Were you not taught proper manners, to respect the Great Seven?!" As Zigvolt droned on with his scolding, the child's eyes filled with tears once more.

"U'cl Sebe doodoo head!" They wailed, letting their tears roll.

"What was that?!?!" The irritated first year yelled.

Jack resumed his stride, but stopped a few steps away due to the high pitched cries bothering his sensitive ears. Ace, Deuce and Epel stood in shock at the scene. "U’cl? ...Uncle?"

Running steps interrupted the scene “Sebek, what is wrong with you? Screaming at a small child?!” [Name] rushed in, standing between the kid and Zigvolt.

“M-Mo…! Mo!!” The young one immediately hugged the legs of who was standing in front of them.

“But I simply-!” “Oh, hush now! Stop yelling, lest you wanna upset the kid more.” They quickly interrupted whatever the exalted first year wanted to say.

The [hair color] bent down to lift the toddler, “Uh… Hello there, little one! Are you lost? Did you come here with someone?” They spoke gently after helping wipe the tears away.

“N-No… no lost, Moddy wid me naw. U’cl Lilia…” At the mention of Diasomnia’s vice leader, everyone had wide eyes.

“Lilia? You came with...for Lilia?” They tried to coax more information out, but the little one only leaned onto their shoulder and wrapped the unoccupied arm around the student’s neck.

As if on cue (and spooking all grown ups in the process), Vanrouge appeared. “Mentioned my name?”

Immediately, the infant turned to look at the bat. “U’cl Lilia! Upu upu!” They made grabby hands and, of course, Lilia complied.

“What an adorable whippersnapper! You have such wonderful green eyes! That look awfully familiar…” The fae stopped his tickling to recall where he had seen those bright eyes. A sudden flash of baby Malleus with big tears in his eyes crossed the old bat’s mind.

“Master Lilia, what matters do you have with a child?” Sebek questioned.

“Ah, huh… I’m about to find out.” He answered, turning to walk away, but was stopped by displeased groans. “Mo! M-Moddy!” A sob accompanied the kid’s cries, arms outstretched towards [Name].

Tiny hand wrapped around bigger fingers as the one they called out came closer. Lilia understood, “[Name], can you be a dear and follow me? Seems like our visitor here doesn’t want to let you go.”

They snapped out of it, “O-Oh! Certainly.” There was something about holding that small hand that brought forth warmth in their heart.

Before they tailed the 3rd year, they stopped and whispered to Jack, “Inform the Headmaster. Whoever this child is needs to go back home securely and quickly.” The 1st year nodded.

As they made their way towards wherever Lilia led them, child and [1st/2nd/3rd] year student bonded. Playing hide and seek, singing lullabies, asking questions about the kid’s trusty dragon companion, anything to make sure they were distracted and wouldn’t get scared by anyone or anything around them (especially once arriving at the dark Diasomia dorm).

“Old Man… [Name]-san, and a child..?” Silver greeted the group, perplexed at the scene.

The fae smiled as if there was nothing unusual, "Evening, Silver hair! Do you happen to know where Malleus is?"

"Uh-..huh… I believe he’s in his room." He decided not to ask questions, although his face told of his clear confusion.

"Wonderful! Let us go to our destination, then. [Name], do come with."

"As you say. Keep leading the way, please."

“Shi’va, ba-by~!” Tiny hands waved at the boy who slowly returned the gesture. “What is going on? They knew..my name?”

Once standing in front of Malleus' chamber, Vanrouge knocked on the door. A click of the door unlocking and opening was the only answer. This gesture made the toddler perk up.

"Malleus! How many more times have I need to tell you to signal the visitor they have permission to enter? Don't just open the door with magic." Lilia let himself in, "Apologies for his manners, [Name]. This is the one antic I couldn't drive out of him."

Draconia rolled his eyes as he continued tending to his virtual pet.

"Papa!" Again, small arms stretched towards the figure before him.

The dragon prince became curious at the youthful voice and looked towards the door. He was met with the sight of Lilia carrying a child while [Name] stood beside them.

"Tell me you didn't steal this one, Lilia. I don't want history to repeat itself--"

"Silence, you… No, this one was wandering NRC until Sebek and his friends found them." Pout turned into a smile as the bat took Gao Gao-kun from Malleus' hands and replaced it with the child, "Now I think I've deciphered what happened."

"Papa, papa! Gao!" The little one said, placing their toy on Malleus' face.

He only duck away from the plush, "Papa? No child, I believe you're mistaken."

"Oh no, they're absolutely not mistaken~!" Lilia giggled, "It appears our visitor here is accidentally a time traveler. Probably got in the way of a spell and ended up here."

"Time traveler?" The other two occupants of the room said, startled in their own levels.

"Indeed. Want to know the interesting part of this?" The younger students looked at each other in slight confusion, nodding at last.

"This child… has vibrant green eyes, a head of [texture] [color] hair, and if you touch their crown, you can distinctly feel two little hard bumps…" While the bat described the little one's appearance, [Name] moved to stand close to Malleus and the kid.

"In case that rings no bells," Vanrouge continued, "I shall uncover the truth… Dear [Name], Malleus… I believe with all my mythical intuition that this is a whippersnapper of your own."

“Of our own…?” Draconia echoed.

“Our kid?” [Eye color] looked into two pairs of lime green.

“Papa, moddy! Gao!” As if sensing the mood, giggles escaped their mouth after their parents reunited.

Sparks and butterflies ignited two hearts after hearing their beloved (future) child giggle so merrily.

“I-! I- ugh… ahaha~ Well, would you look at that?” A blush erupted on the [1st/2nd/3rd] year’s face, “Ahem… looks like we’re more than highschool sweethearts, huh?”

The crown prince could only bring his child closer, embracing him tenderly in his warmth. “If… Only if you allow us to be more than that. The future can always be changed.” Malleus looked at them, both of them, with fondness.

“How do you expect me to change opinions when you’re both so darn cute, ya big lizard?!” [Name] internally squealed and aww’d at their future family. Emotions so colorful, they went over and joined the hug.

Lilia smiled brightly at the small family, “My Queen, My King… I know both of you surely are proud of your son, wherever you may be now.” A melancholic sigh left him, “I shall take my leave. Time travel issues can be resolved later, let them bask in happiness.”

[END♡]

-- -- --

OMG HOPE THIS WASN’T SUPER CONFUSING TO KNOW WHEN I REFERRED TO READER AND TO THE KID AAAAA Sorry if many “the child/kid/[X] year student” were used! Was the only way I could think of working around this

Thank you for the request! We all know Silver, Sebek and Lilia will definitely be part Malleus’ kids’ family, so of course the baby here knows their name :b

(lol sorry for the terrible baby talk too, idk with what sounds do kids struggle with the most when learning to talk) (ALSO!!! supposedly “moddy” is a gender neutral term for parents, a mix of “mommy” & “daddy”)

#march 2021 special #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #zack writes #soul cuddle #request pavilion

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aenaxes · 3 years

Note

OMG ok for the 200 follower celebration (based on your smoking post) PLZZZ write sharing a spice blunt with cross or any batcher of your choosing I would simply die 😩💅🏻❤️

vapor trails

[crosshair & hunter x f!reader] you don't really run with the fett twins' crowd, but you find yourself at one of their parties anyway (in reference to this post lol)

warnings: college!au, recreational drug use, suggestive themes, but consent is sexy & mandatory & sober babes

w/c: 3.8k

a/n: anon, you ask for one batcher, but why not two? thank you for enabling me nonnie & @mallr4ts lol (im so sorry to all the previous requests for the event, this one has just been needling in my brain all day and i had to get it out hsdfs)

event details here! requests are open until july 4th!

You don’t know much about the Fett twins.

They’re something like campus legends even though they’re only a year your senior and at the tail end of their fourth years. But as much as you’ve heard their names slung around in weekend plans and excited chatter, you’ve never once met them, much less seen them yourself. Between idling class whispers and dining hall conversations, all you can piece together from the rumors is that: one, they’re from a big family (you’ve heard anywhere from two to twelve other brothers, yikes); and two, as much as they work hard (because the venture capital and pre-professorial tracks seem rigorous enough), they play even harder.

It helps that they apparently own one of the biggest apartments off campus, one in which you find yourself hopelessly and miserably lost. And overdressed.

Great.

It hadn’t occurred to you that your roommate, who is nowhere to be seen, had been dressing up for her girlfriend, and that most people who had half a mind would wear something comfortable that could withstand a few spilled drinks and ash. So seeing the rest of the room in rumpled tees and sweats has you and your little black dress seeking out the nearest wall as you fiddle with your questionably sweet cup of margarita mixer.

You feel like a first year, and it sucks.

But for once, with everyone too busy mingling amongst themselves over the heavy thrum of some mumble rap beat, you manage to slip by unnoticed.

Every now and then, you dart your eyes around the ever shifting landscape of faces in the dim room, looking for even the vaguest familiarity that might let you feign being tipsy and join a group for the night. But every time you try, there’s no luck.

Fuck, you haven’t even seen anyone here before.

But there might be a god watching out for you yet when the crowd shifts just enough that you catch sight of the couch, and on it, someone you suspect to be one of the twins as he greets a few girls with a disinterested nod.

Emboldened, but mostly nervous that in the crowd of bodies and red solo cups you’re still helplessly alone, you push off the wall and squeeze past huddled cliques of conversation to make for the dark couch.

By the platinum bleached hair and big-name consulting group quarter zip, Crosshair—at least you think it’s him—lounges over the couch. He isn’t the only body on the suede seats, but he keeps to himself, his head dipped low as he works one hand over a small metal canister in his other palm.

If you weren’t having luck with the other nameless faces around you, maybe the Fett twin would keep you company—at least until your roommate came back to find you (if she did). And worst case, you’d just slink back to your dorm and mope until your roommate apologized to you with your favorite overpriced smoothie bowl the day after.

Mustering every ounce of courage you have, you plant your feet by the couch and finally speak.

"Is your name actually Crosshair?" you ask.

The man on the couch pauses, his motions stilling over the small metal cylinder in his palms, and he lifts his chin just enough to flick his eyes up towards the sound of your voice.

You always thought the girls in your droning 9AM gen-ed were wildly exaggerating his hype for their own devices, squealing over his (apparently) brooding charm and sharp looks to nip at his stash for free. But for all the vague haze surrounding your perception of the twins, you never thought that they were telling the truth.

If you had been in broad daylight under the incandescent glow of your creaky lecture hall lights, you might have called him cocky, almost haughty, how he meets you with an unreadable look for having interrupted him. But in the purple LEDs and heavy haze of vape juice and shitty tequila, he’s captivating, all dark eyes and perfectly lit skin, marked only by the needle-thin design tattooed over the right side of his face and a worn wooden toothpick bitten between his teeth.

You swallow down the dry lump in your throat when you catch him flick his eyes from your face, down the short length of your dress, and back up again.

"Smoke with me; maybe you'll find out," he drawls, toothpick bobbing as he speaks. He twists the cylinder once and offers you a wry smirk. And when you stay, speechless but there all the same, Crosshair scoots to the side and pats the narrow space between him and the couch arm, inviting you close.

"I've never smoked before," you admit a bit shyly as you drop down beside him. Your dress hikes up your thigh, and you shiver when your skin presses up against the soft denim of his jeans.

"Not even cigs?"

You shake your head. And you tell yourself that when he leans close and brushes his shoulder up against your arm, that he’s only doing it because someone’s boosted the bass, and you can’t hear him over the reverb.

"Well, good thing I'm here, yeah?"

He gives the metal canister a final twist and sets it down on the coffee table before you. Swapping the canister for a small brown sleeve, you watch in a daze as he pulls a semi-transparent leaflet from the folder and tears a strip of cardstock straight from its flap. He has pianist fingers, you think wistfully, neatly kept nails and slender grace, and you wonder if he’ll entertain you if you ask to compare your hand to his.

“What’s your name?”

You scrabble back to the present at the sound of his voice. “Uh, y/n,” you offer.

“Well, y/n,” he says with a soft laugh, having caught on to your daydreaming. “Step one, you fold your filter.”

You nod along absently as Crosshair artfully crimps the thick paper into a neat roll. As if there isn’t thirty-some odd people crammed into his apartment, he quietly takes you step by step, offering you the filter, the paper, then the contents of the canister (a grinder, he explains) like it’s a game of show and tell. But with every piece he places into your hands, you gravitate closer, closer, until you’re flush against his arm and practically hanging over his side to watch as he gently taps a line of bud over the paper.

“Here, let me give you a better look,” Crosshair says.

You expect him to bring the neat line of bud to you, but when nothing comes, you look up and find him waiting for you, one arm open in invitation as the other pats once on the dark denim of his thigh.

“Uh—”

“Sit,” he says as if you haven’t just met him fifteen minutes ago. “Front row seats if you want ‘em.”

On one hand, you barely know Crosshair outside of the rumors you hear on campus. On the other hand, he’s a genuinely pleasant person, careful to accommodate for your boundaries and offering a snide playfulness that’s banished your nerves from earlier in the night.

He’s also really fucking hot.

“Okay,” you murmur, and you let him wrap his arm around your waist and tug you onto his lap. And he’s right. Perched over his thighs, you see with perfect clarity (and without the strain in your neck) as he gently folds the paper over the mound of bud and carefully twists. It’s the prettiest joint you’ve ever seen—though it might be because it’s the only one you’ve seen.

"Final touch," Crosshair's voice rumbles over your back, shooting straight into your core as he lifts the paper's vellum edge to your lips. “Lick it for me.”

Since you sat down with him, you’ve only been the passenger, nodding along as Crosshair’s long, nimble fingers creased over filter paper and patiently pointed out things like the stray pistils in his baggie and the keef gathered at the bottom of his grinder for if you really want to get fucked up. And even though you aren’t doing much (because licking paper doesn’t really seem too crazy), it’s a step forward from the comfortable rhythm that had settled between you, and you twist around in his lap to shoot him an uncertain glance.

“Just,” Crosshair flicks his tongue over his lower lip, flashing a brief glimpse of a ball piercing towards your wide eyes. And if you weren’t so flustered, you might have recognized the coy playfulness in his gaze. “Give it a lick, right over the edge.”

“I—uh, what if I—” you stammer.

“You’re not gonna mess this up, darling,” Crosshair chuckles. If his hand squeezing brief over your waist wasn’t enough to bring heat searing over the tops of your ears, his next words, crooned low and breathy into your ear, certainly do. “You’re a smart girl. You can do it.”

"My brother giving you trouble?"

Another voice cuts through the din of the party, sparing you your stammering nerves as you whip your head up in its general direction. You’re greeted with the sight of his brother, peering down on you as he takes a sip from his cup.

“You’re such a killjoy,” Crosshair mutters, drawing his arm tighter around your waist as he jabs the half-rolled joint to where Hunter sprawls down onto the couch beside him. “No, I’m not being a creep. I’m teaching our pretty underclassman here how to roll.”

Oh.

Heat rushes over your cheeks, and you can’t decide whether you want to shrink into yourself or bask in it and beg for more.

He called you pretty.

“With her in your lap,” Hunter snorts into his cup.

“It was your idea to invite your entire fucking rugby team. Where else would we do it?”

“I’m so sorry he’s like this,” Hunter laughs, tilting his head and looking up at you through his (unfairly) long lashes. Where you thought Crosshair’s tattoo was bold, Hunter’s practically blows him out of the water, a well-worn swath of ink on the left half of his face, curving into neatly stylized teeth right at the edge of his lips. “I’m Hunter.”

Huh, maybe you do have a thing for tattoos.

“Y/n,” you squeak. “It’s, um—it’s nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart,” he says as he offers you an easy smile. “Has my baby brother been treating you right?”

“God, two fucking minutes,” Crosshair snaps. You hear the embarrassment seeping from the vitriol, and it strikes you like a shot to the head that he’s trying to play cool in front of you. “I come out two minutes after you and—”

“We’re fraternal, and I got all the oxygen in the womb. Explains why he has awful people skills,” Hunter fake-whispers loud enough for Crosshair to hear, and you giggle as the other man groans from behind you.

“No, he’s been really nice,” you say softly once you realize that you’ve been laughing a little too loud. “He’s teaching me about weed.” It sounds juvenile when you say it, awkward and clumsy on your tongue. It’s a dead giveaway that has Hunter’s smile mellowing into something soft.

“Your first time?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, Cross here’s high as shit at least four hours every day. Says it helps him do the math. I hate to say it, but you’re in good hands.”

“You try running a nonlinear regression sober,” Crosshair snorts. “Anyways, we were just finishing up this joint before you decided to kill the vibe.”

Crosshair lifts the half-rolled joint back up to your chin, and this time, he leans forward and presses his chest close against your back as the playful snark leaves his tone, in its wake, something patient and calm as his voice rumbles by your ear.

“You gonna help me finish the job, sweet girl?”

You surprise yourself when the initial trepidation vanishes as you tip your chin down and stick out your tongue. Maybe you’re showboating now that you have an audience, feeling Hunter’s dark eyes on your lips when you touch the tip of your tongue out over the edge.

Whether it’s your lip gloss or the fine crumbs of bud stuck to the roll paper that fills your mouth with something earthy and sweet, you can’t say. All you know is they’re both following you with that intense intent, the bass and blend of voices faded out around you; just you in Crosshair’s lap and Hunter pretending to care about the drink in his hand as you lift your tongue off the far corner of the paper and close your lips.

“Good job,” Hunter muses, and you’re pretty certain he’s not talking about the joint when you feel his gaze boring into you alone.

The smell of smoke pulls you out of Hunter’s gravity, and you look back in front of you to see Crosshair snap a scuffed metal lighter shut and toss it onto the coffee table. He brings the joint back down in front of you, blowing a neat stream of whitish gray smoke past your ear.

“You know how to pull?” Crosshair asks, and his chin brushes over your bare shoulder as he speaks. He’s so close. You can smell the burn, acrid and sour, but it doesn’t matter that it doesn’t smell like some bubblegum vape when you feel his breaths curling over your skin. You just want more.

Mutely, you shake your head.

“Mm, you know how to shotgun?” Hunter offers, and you hear Crosshair huff laugher from behind you. “Might be easier for your first try.”

You shake your head again.

“It’s,” Hunter pauses, and his brows knit close as he thinks for a moment. “It’s kind of like a kiss. But not really. I take a hit and you catch my smoke. That sound okay?”

You don’t think it matters that someone’s hit shuffle on the playlist, filling the room with a hard electronic beat that might have otherwise drowned out all sound. All you hear is your heart pounding in your ears as you nod and watch Hunter lift the filter to his lips and inhale deep, then pass the joint back to Crosshair.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, white trails of smoke curling over his upper lip as he lifts one hand to cup over the base of your neck.

“Open,” Crosshair whispers.

Wordlessly, you obey. Your lips part just as Hunter pulls close, so close you feel the heat of his skin spreading warm over your cheeks, and blows a soft stream of bitter smoke into your mouth. It can’t be more than a few seconds, but all the while, you can’t seem to tear your eyes from his.

“Breathe in, deep,” you hear Crosshair instruct as he begins to rub one thumb over the curve of your hip.

The smoke is thick, sluicing down your throat and filling your lungs like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s not bad, just new, and pressed between the twins over the couch, you think it just might have been worth being ditched by your roommate earlier in the night. But your lungs ache, and you slowly exhale, watching as your vision fogs with a loose cloud of smoke until your chest feels clear again.

“And you didn’t even cough,” Hunter smiles. His calloused fingertips follow the slope of your neck, lingering one moment more before he pulls away. And you aren’t sure if the low buzzing in your fingertips is the weed or their combined warmth as Hunter rubs over your knee and Crosshair leans his head against your neck. “Good girl.”

“Wanna do it again,” you whisper as the buzz begins to crawl up your neck, fizzling around your temples as you lean your cheek over where Crosshair nuzzles into your shoulder.

“With him or me?” Crosshair murmurs, his lips brushing over your skin.

“You,” you say dreamily, and Hunter laughs, a sound that suddenly seems so far away as you tip your head and press close against Crosshair’s silver hair.

Crosshair leans into your touch, pressing his cheek up against your neck one last time before he’s lifting his head and bringing the joint to his lips. You hear the hiss of his inhale, smoke curling up through the narrow body of the joint as the charred end glows warm beside you.

And instead of Hunter’s approach, level with you, Crosshair looms above you, meeting your wide eyes with something of a fond smile. Dragging his hand up your chest, he follows the line of your neck and holds snug over your chin. He squeezes softly, and your jaw falls slack, lips parted in a soft ‘o’ as he dips low. He's closer than Hunter as you feel his mouth just brush over yours and breathe smoke over your tongue.

This time, it’s easier.

You swallow down the smoke and hold, just a beat longer than before. But both Crosshair and Hunter notice as your lips stay parted, and they share a soft laugh that has you exhaling smoke and pride all at once when you finally relax your diaphragm and breathe out.

“Fast learner,” Crosshair muses, nosing up under your jaw as you sink back against his chest.

You mumble incoherently, chasing his touch as the high creeps heavy and warm from your chest to your collar and settles at the back of your throat. It anchors you, molding you up against Crosshair who feels nothing short of perfect as he circles his arms loose over your waist.

You turn your head to thank Hunter when you distantly register him pressing a cool cup into your hand (water, you think you hear him say), but the words slip back down into your throat, your eyelids suddenly unbearably heavy and coarse over your blurry vision.

“You wanna lay down?” Hunter offers, and his voice comes to you like you’re underwater, warped and bubbling past the din of the party around you.

You're pretty sure you nod.

For a few moments, you catch traces of an unintelligible exchange between the twins, only aware of the rumble of Crosshair’s voice at your back, and then you’re being lifted up off the couch, the music and raucous laughter fading behind you.

A door opens, squeaking half-shut, and you wince as a light clicks on beside you. Whoever was carrying you sets you down on something soft and cool, and you sway as the light dims and you settle into your seat.

You’re on a bed, you think.

Crosshair’s, judging by the shock of light hair that you can make out through your lashes. He helps you into a worn tee that reaches past the short hem of your dress, and you wiggle into it with a soft whine, holding it tight.

But where you expect a familiar weight to dip down next to you and pull you close, your eyes fly open when you see his figure turn away from you and towards the neon lights of the party outside.

“You aren’t staying?” It's the most coherent you've been through your first high.

“Not tonight,” Crosshair says softly. He turns back towards you and reaches up to fix the strap of your dress as you sit on his bed. “Baby’s first tokes got you all dopey. Right now, what you need is this,” and he presses a plastic bottle of vitamin water he’s seemingly produced out of nowhere into your palm. “This,” he adds, pressing your phone into your other hand. “And a good night’s sleep.”

“And what if I say I need you, too?” you pout.

Some part of you—the conscious part locked away in the back of your skull—bangs up against the hazy high at the crown of your head because when you’re good and sober and when Crosshair inevitably turns you down, you won’t be able to look at yourself in the mirror for the next semester.

But he breaks into a smile that crinkles at the corners of his eyes before he leans down to press his lips to your forehead. It’s just a split-second of warm, chapstick-soft lips on your skin, but it floods you with an indescribable good from the top of your head all the way down to your toes.

And as high as you are right now, you have a hell of a hunch that the flutter in your chest is going to stay, even when the room stops wobbling around you.

“When you’re all sobered up in the morning, we’ll make you breakfast, and we’ll figure it out from there,” Crosshair says after he’s pulled back, reaching up to smooth his palm over your hair. “Sound like a plan?”

You nod, probably with a little too much enthusiasm, but you’re rewarded with another low chuckle that’s practically music to your ears. His hand gentle and firm over your shoulder, Crosshair guides you down onto the bed and pulls the covers up to your chin.

“Now text your roomie so she doesn’t call the cops on us, get some sleep, and drink all of that, okay?”

“Okay,” you respond.

“Good girl.”

And when the lights click out, you curl into Crosshair’s pillow, breathing in cold, fresh notes of his cologne, and then you’re asleep.

You climb out of bed the next morning, your minidress rumpled under a long shirt. It's not like a hangover, no, you just find yourself a bit lightheaded and throat parched, and the disorientation makes your head spin as you’re greeted with the smell of fresh coffee and something savory—

Your roommate doesn’t wake up earlier than you, and she can’t cook for shit. And why were your sheets grey? Whose shirt were you—

Oh.

Fuck.

You practically burst out of Crosshair’s bedroom, and you’re not sure what you expected, but somehow you hadn’t expected to see Hunter sipping mildly on a mug of coffee while Crosshair pushes something around in a pan over their kitchen range.

“Mornin,’” Hunter offers you a small wave, and reaches for a third mug on the countertop. “Wasn’t sure how you liked your coffee so we just made it black.”

“What happened last night?” you gasp. If you weren’t so panicked, you’re certain the sight of them sporting nothing but grey sweats would have been your only concern, but you’ve just woken up with foggy memories and the slimy dread of anxiety that follows a blackout night.

“Easy, easy,” Crosshair assures you as he steps away from the stovetop. “Nothing happened after we smoked. You took, like, two hits, and you were so hazy you couldn’t remember your dorm number, so we put you to bed, and I slept out in the living room. Fetts are wild but we’re not scumbags, promise.”

And judging from the throw blanket sliding off the edge of the couch cushions, you’re fairly certain you can believe him. Relief floods your chest.

“Oh thank God,” you sigh, and your shoulders sag as the weight of panic sloughs off your back.

They both laugh softly, the sudden tension lifting from the bright morning light, and you can’t help but join in. And when that rosy relief gives way to silence again, it’s Crosshair who speaks next.

“So, you staying for breakfast?”

“Can I borrow some actual clothes first?”

“Done deal.”

#fun fact: my signature party trick is flirting with a guy and then stealing his blunt ✌️😗#thinking about how schlorbe n i agreed crosshair listens to souncloud mumble rap :/#its ok i kiss him anyways #hc that crosshair’s an econ/finance bro and hunter’s a history major hehe #sequel series: crosshair goes venture capital (gross)#tech's probably at like the space equivalent of mit or something #and i will Die on the hill that wrecker's super smart with kinesiology #crosshair x reader #hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #the bad batch x reader #anon #yaej.writes

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haitanizzz · 3 years

Text

!contains tokyo revengers manga spoilers!

cw: angst, swearing, alcohol mention, slight violence, blood/bruises mention, slight sa? (non-consensual kiss), spelling errors

characters: draken and inui

summary: draken gets drunk and got his ass into a fight. inui picks him up and takes care of him but draken can't seem to move on from emma. inui can't tell the difference between platonic and romantic attraction, kinda one-sided love?, draken basically being depressed lol also set in the timeline where they own a bikeshop together

note: i don't ship them but i don't have anything against the ppl who do, i just thought their relationship was a great angst material :) i rushed the end a bit tho cuz i was getting out of ideas lol hope you enjoy!! also big thanks to the people who requested from us and we're a bit slow, but we're working on them don't worry!<3

-L

"hey inui! inui! seishu are you okay?"

draken was having it rough for a few days now, his nightmares about emma coming back to him each night like a curse from the past. inui noticed that his friend was more tense around him or when draken would hesitate to call out to him, but he didn't say anything since he knew that mental health was a touchy subject for his partner because of a certain girl. he was having a hard time ignoring it though as it left a bad taste in his mouth, but he didn't know why. is it because draken is his dear friend or maybe it is because he was in love? ken was so nice to him and he was his friend because he was inui seishu and not somebody else, right? he was so lost in his thoughts he didn't even hear draken call out to him.

"huh?"

"i've called out to you 3 times already! you look like you've been stressing so much lately-"

"oh no, no! im totally fine don't worry about it, i was just daydreaming a little bit!" he said as he let out an awkward laugh.

draken flashed him a gentle smile and patted his back.

"if you say so! but don't hesitate to ask for anything if you're not feeling well, aight?"

"got it boss"

"hey! i told u stop with that!" he playfully scolded inui as both of them began laughing. "anyways i just wanted to ask if you could close the shop today? i'm going out with some friends to drink, so.."

"of course! you can count on me, just give me the keys and you can go!

"thanks inupi! i owe you one!"

it was already dark outside when draken began to pack his things and passed the keys to inui.

"don't forget to close it or i'll beat ya ass if anything is missing tomorrow!"

"yeah yeah, just go already!" inui said as he pushed his friend through the door of their office.

"see you tomorrow seishu! "

he woke up to his ringtone, phone buzzing on the table as he got up and tried to wipe the sleep from his eyes. he didn't even have the energy to look at who was calling him so he just picked it up.

"yeah! see ya!" he sighed and almost slammed the door shut on accident. he was nervous but why? he could feel a pit in his stomach like when something bad is about to happen but he ignored the feeling and chose to dose off for a small nap on the sofa that was in the office.

"hello?" he answered the phone with a groggy voice.

"hey inui! sorry to call you this late but i need you to come here!"

"kazutora? it's not often that you call me, what's wrong?" he was dumbfounded that kazutora callled him as they barley even kept contact with each other.

"it's draken."

"what?"

"that idiot got drunk and punched a dude."

"oh god, again? " inui pinched the bridge of his nose not wanting to get up and drive there because he didn't like dealing with drunk people especially when it was ryuguji who got drunk. "im coming don't worry, thanks for giving me a call kazutora.

"thanks inui, we're at the new bar, just 2 streets down. we'll wait for you at the entrance!" kazutora said and immediately hang up.

"i swear that dumbass is going to be my death one day.." inui murmured and grabbed his jacket and the keys to his bike. "thank god it's not that far, just 2 streets down or i wouldn't even go to get his drunk ass."

the engine of his motorbike roared as he stopped in front of a bar, that had neon lights around it. everything was so bright he got a little dizzy and almost had to close his eyes. he spotted kazutora and draken sitting together at a random shop's staircase that was next to the bar. he got up from his bike and began walking towards them and it was when he got closer, that's when he noticed the blood sitting on draken's white shirt and bruises all over his face.

"what the fuck happened?!"

the two of them jumped at inui's voice not expecting him to shout at them.

"sorry to drag you out to get him this late, i could've bring him home myself but chifuyu and the others are still in there and im kinda worried what would they do when there's nobody to look out for them." kazutora said as he slightly bowed his head as an apology.

"don't worry about it man, don't apologize." inui gave kazutora a slight smile as he took draken's arm around his shoulder to make sure he wouldn't fall. "i'll be taking him home now..thanks for looking out for him."

"it's nothing. have a safe drive and call me if something is up!"

"yeah will do!" inui said as he began walking back to his bike with now draken slumped over him. it was very strange that draken wasn't talking at all, he was usually very loud.

"im not a kid you know? i can take care of myself inupi."

"oh so you now know how to talk? and it didn't seem like you were doing so good, so just shut up and let me drive you home!"

draken let out a laugh as he sat on the back of the motorcycle and grabbed the spare helmet.

"aight, aight! just don't be so loud, my head is killing me.."

"i wonder why?" inui scoffed as he sat on the front. "just make sure you don't fall off or you'll have to go to the hospital by yourself."

the drive to draken's apartment was quiet. none of them talked, the only thing that was making noise was the motorbike and those few cars that passed them. they were almost there when inui felt arms wrap around his waist and felt some weight on his left shoulder and he tensed under draken's touch, his heart hammering in his chest.

"i swear to god if you puke on me-"

"are you mad?" draken's voice was soft, almost like when a child got caught stealing candies.

inui didn't answer not knowing what to say to a question like that so he just kept quiet.

they soon arrived to draken's apartment complex and inui parked his bike.

none of them said a word and seishu helped his friend up the stairs, then to his door. keys jingled as draken searched his pockets and struggled to fit the key to his door inside the keyhole. inui gently pushed him away and opened the door and draken almost immediately went and crashed on the couch. seishu shaked his head and closed the door behind him, took off his shoes then followed draken to his livingroom.

"come on man, we need to get you patched up and change! i promise you can sleep all you want after we're done." draken just groaned and put his head on inui's shoulder s a sign to help him to his bedroom.

"i think the booze is really starting to get to me.." draken said as his words were slightly slurred from the alcohol he had consumed. inui helped him up and staring walking towards draken's room and sat him down onto the bed and turned on the lights. draken hissed at the sudden brightness and inui just let out a chuckle then went to the bathroom to get the first-aid kit. he came back with the box and sat next to draken and grabbed his chin.

"come on this gonna hurt a bit, but i'll be as careful and quick as i can so bear with it 'kay?" the tatted male just hummed as an answer and inui took it as a sign to start cleaning his bruises. he started dabbing under his eye first, then right under his jaw with careful movements. draken didn't seem to be giving any reaction so he just continued until his eyes sat on his slightly busted lip. seishu looked away for a moment then went to dab the sanitizer on his lip when draken took a hold of his wrist and he dopped the cottonball he was holding.

"what's wro-" seishu's words were cut off when draken kissed him. inui's whole body froze as memories from his high school years started to pry at his mind and tears filled his eyes. he didn't know what to do. was it the right thing that he just sat there without doing anything but his hands shaking? he will never know the answer to that. he only came back to reality when draken pulled away and smiled at him with red dusting his cheeks, inui didn't know if it was from the alcohol or because draken was embarrassed.

"i love you..emma." draken whispered against inui's neck and passed out. seishu couldn't process what was happening and his chest started to hurt. he quickly pushed draken off of him (who surprisingly didn't even budge) and stood up with wide eyes, tears threatening to spill out of them. he didn't even bother to pack the first aid kit as he was almost running to the door. he slammed the shop's keys on draken's kitchen island and left.

the next morning draken woke up with a headache.

"..what happened?" he said as he looked through his room, the first-aid kit on the floor. he tried to remember what happened last night as he went to get dressed for work.

he was confused when inui didn't came to work that day.

#tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #tokyo rev x male reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers inui #inui seishu #draken #draken ryuguji #platonic tbh #inui i love you im sorry

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hongcherry · 3 years

Text

eleven || pjm

“After you and Jimin break up to pursue your separate goals to achieve life’s success, Jimin tries to rekindle the spark that’s been flickering ever since the split.”

🕚 Pairing: Jimin x exGirlfriend!Reader(f)

🕚 Rating/Genres: NC-17; Angst, song-inspired, exes to lovers

🕚 Word Count: 5.0k

🕚 Warnings: Major character death, brief description of death scene (blood, body position, scene itself), pet names (kitten), car crash, not happy ending

🕚 Betas: @hoebii and @moccahobi // The amount of feedback and comments I received were so overwhelming. I’m so honored to have you both beta this piece. I feel like I don’t deserve to have such amazing betas D: Thank you both for making this piece sparkle. The common denominator comment was “oh no oh no oh no” lol. Thank you for the great reactions.

🕚 Author’s Note: This is inspired by YUNGBLUD and Halsey’s song 11 Minutes (feat. Travis Barker). I really love the story they created and the mv always gets me so emotional. Dom’s explanation of the song is so heart-wrenching that I just wanted to write about it. I hope you enjoy it. I’ve had a really bad case of writer’s block lately, so I’m trying to break through that. That being said, I apologize if it’s a little bleh. Also, who would’ve thought fanfic would allow me to work on my editing skills. Kinda’ proud of the banner.

🕚 Song: 11 Minutes by YUNGBLUD, Halsey (feat. Travis Barker)

“Modern society teaches us that being successful or powerful is kind of more important than loving someone else.” - Dom, YUNGBLUD

bts masterlist | main masterlist

Success.

Power.

Success and power are vital in one’s life. Success means being financially stable while having power means having the opportunity to claim what you desire from anywhere, anyone, and however you might see fit. Those are life’s top priorities.

Be successful. Be powerful.

While love is powerful, it doesn’t equate to success. Find success. Obtain power. Then maybe you can find love.

Jimin scoffs as the shit advice lulls in his mind. He forms a trench in the middle of his living room. It was easy to believe those words once upon a time—a time when he sought advice from those around him in the crowded confines of high school. From teachers to advisors to parents to friends.

Success. Power.

But where did happiness come into play?

Was it supposed to be when he found success? Was he supposed to feel happy during his journey to success? Or maybe when he gained enough power to use others as carpet? When was he supposed to smile?

No one provided an answer to that.

The light from his phone blares in the darkness of his apartment that is near campus. His thumb hovers over the telephone icon as he debates with himself. He hasn’t spoken to you since you both went your separate ways three years ago. His eyes dance over the grey circle with your initials in the middle that replaced the years-old photo of your smiling face. He always found your smile painstakingly beautiful, but now it hurts in another way. He isn’t sure how long he can cradle his trembling heart in his hands before it crumbles in his palms.

Taking a deep breath, he slams his thumb on the screen harder than necessary.

Six rings.

Then a click.

“Hello?” Jimin’s voice is hoarse, filled with emotions he is slowly coming to understand. Resentment. Guilt. Fury. Sadness.

“Jimin?” Comes the soothing voice he’s heard echoing in his dreams. The dreams that involved you both in high school, sharing laughs in different locations—the classroom, the cafeteria, your home, the café near his home, your parent’s lake house. All the places he remembers fondly with you. It all comes flooding back with his name falling from your lips.

There’s a pang in your chest and you’re filled with disbelief as you wait for his reply. His name flashing across your screen yanked you back into the past so fast you were dizzy. There’s an inkling of happiness that feels foreign to you now. A feeling that was felt so regularly was shriveled throughout the years. Your heart hammers in anticipation, yearning to hear the voice you told yourself to get over repeatedly.

You were meant to be the “it” couple from high school. That couple that was disgustingly perfectly molded for the other. You were the couple that had their faces plastered in the yearbook’s superlative section for “Couple Most Likely to be Together in 100 Years.” It was silly to Jimin, but not to you. He wished that turned out to be true.

“H-hey,” he repeats, dazed with the memories of you.

“Did you need something?” Your voice is low, wavering, and unsure. Almost as if you would shatter glass if you spoke too loudly. Surely, he wouldn’t be calling just to chat. Not after years of zero contact. While you were hopeful, you were also leery of his intentions. He was never a manipulator, but your walls were too thick to allow a single crack.

“N-no,” then hurriedly, “I mean yes. I-” Jimin struggles for his words. He takes a deep breath, pauses, then releases gradually.

“How are you?” He tries again. There’s silence on the other end that stops his heart. He pulls the phone from his ear to check if the call is still connected. It is.

“I’m fine,” you reply curtly. You’re still on the edge, teetering on if you should hang up or if you should hear him out. There’s a sliver of wishfulness that he’s calling to tell you he wants you again. That he misses your touch and the sound of your voice. But that puts your heart on the line, and it’s already too fragile.

Jimin misses when your reply would entail a dramatic story of how your day went, even if he was there at some of the events. The short answer arouses a sense of detachment and he wants to pinch himself for allowing this to happen.

His pace across his living room slows.

“That’s good,” he answers. “Are you almost on summer break?”

Jimin glances at his couch, legs aching from how much he’s moved them in the last hour, but he’s still too nervous to sit.

“Yes,” you say slowly. Jimin can sense your uneasiness.

“Would you want to meet up soon then? M-maybe we can visit the café.”

Jimin doesn’t need to elaborate on which café he is referring to. After lounging in the café near his house for hours upon weeks, it became the third home for you both—your own homes, each other’s, then the café.

The hope in your chest begins to bloom along with your anxiety. Your heart races at the idea of being in close proximity again. To see the face you could never rid from your memory no matter how hard you tried.

Belatedly, “I’ll be in town in two weeks. Does eight work for you? I’m busy in the morning.”

Jimin opens his mouth to reply eagerly but stops himself. He feels you’ll scurry off if he’s too brash.

“Whatever works for you,” he says. He hopes you can’t hear the pounding of his heart over the line. “Eight is perfect.”

“Okay,” you respond. Jimin presses the phone closer to his ear as you speak, trying to decipher your emotions over the call. Were you excited like him?

“Okay,” he echoes. “I’ll see you then. I-I’m glad to hear from you again, Yn.”

“Me too,” your voice comes out as a whisper before the call flatlines.

Jimin’s hands are shaky when he pulls the phone from his ear. He locks the device then tosses it on the couch. He runs his hands through his unkempt hair as he exhales. His heart has yet to slow, making him feel the need to move in order to get the jitterbugs out of his system.

So he imprints his steps into his living room floor as he paces the small area again until the clock strikes two in the morning.

The café is a 15-minute drive from Jimin’s house in his hometown. Ten if he speeds.

Despite this, he is running late.

Two weeks whirled past him. The short, quick text messages exchanged between the both of you had Jimin’s palms sweat. In his three years of college, he’s never been happier. The messages occurred daily but the conversations never lasted more than an hour. He wasn’t sure if you were too busy or if it was just a coincidence. No matter, he would take the thirty-one-sentence messages rather than none.

The advice he remembered earlier rings in his ears as he rushes to find his misplaced car keys. His carefully fixed hair is becoming undone as he dashes around his home. Why did he consume their advice like they were sacred words? Would things have been different if he followed his heart rather than his head?

An exasperated huff escapes Jimin’s parted lips when he finally catches sight of his keys. He snatches them up, storms his way past his front door, and slides into his car.

Ten minutes.

He can make that.

The ride stirs a mixture of emotions in his chest. The familiar windings of the road have him recalling memories of the two of you.

“Don’t you know the eight ball goes in last?” Jimin chuckled as his gaze lingered on the pocket the ball you hit rolled into then to your remaining solid balls scattered across the green cloth. Your glare told him no.

“Claws in, kitten,” he teased and plucked the black ball from the pocket. He placed it back in its previous location then took a step back.

“Oh, look, the Time Fairy appeared and rewound time. It looks like it’s your turn,” Jimin nodded his chin toward the table. “Again,” he mumbled with a small smile that was a borderline smirk.

Your glaring lasted a few seconds longer before you lifted your chin and moved toward the table. Your eyes dropped down and found your next hit. You aligned the cue stick, narrowing your eyes as you calculated your angle, then made your shot.

Your shoulders slumped when the blue ball you were aiming for stopped a few centimeters short of the pocket. Jimin “accidentally” bumped into the table, causing the ball to slowly roll into the pocket.

“Wow! What a shot, kitten!” Jimin exclaimed, offering you his charming smile.

“I give up,” you whined and set your cue stick across the table. You peered up at your boyfriend with a pout. Jimin laughed at your dramatic expression, setting his stick with yours before enfolding your body into his strong embrace. His pillowy lips found yours easily, caressing yours in a soothing kiss—causing tingles to race throughout your veins. No matter how many times your lips locked, the love-sick feeling never ceased.

“You did great,” he mumbled into your hair after he pulled away. He sealed a second kiss to your forehead and you allowed your body to melt into his at the tender touch. “Just not as great as me.”

“Babe,” you groaned and pushed against his chest to leave his grasp. Jimin’s hold tightened.

“I’ll make it up to you and buy you whatever you want at the café,” he replied and began moving toward the exit with you by his side.

“But you do that already,” you argued and glanced up at him.

“Fine,” he paused as he held the door open for you before taking you under his wing as you strolled to his car. “I’ll let you pay this time.”

“Jimin,” you huffed, causing Jimin’s laugh to echo in the half-filled parking lot.

If he didn’t think success and power were more important than love, would he still be filled with regret? Would the regret have been about not achieving his career goals instead of letting you slip through his fingers? If you were on the same path, would you both be going to the same college as each other? Would you have stayed together even then?

Jimin’s knuckles turn ghostly white as he forces himself to slow his speed when he rounds the corner. The café is in his sights.

There is no point in dwelling on the what-ifs. It isn’t as if he hasn’t done this already. No matter how much he calculated his past actions, the equation never added up. There was always something changing—always another follow-up question.

Things were changing though.

It’s been long enough to realize the empty gap in his heart wasn’t due to him not making progress to success—he was—but it was the lack of happiness in his life. And the biggest source of happiness came from you. With the endless study nights, he rarely found time for himself. He isolated himself from others and dug his head into his books. He wasn’t sure if he was cramming his nights with textbooks to distract his mind from you or if he was really trying to stay on top of his classes. It was probably both, but he didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want to admit he needed you because that would mean he was lied to all those years ago. That you were both lied to. That you didn’t need each other; you needed to be successful.

He can’t remember the last time his smile reached his eyes.

After being seated, his phone rings. It’s two minutes until eight.

“Hey,” he answers, voice sounding more cheerful than anticipated.

“Hi Jimin,” you reply, the sound of your blinker emitting in the background. “I’m eleven minutes away. Sorry, I’m running late.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jimin replies, unhesitantly. “Take your time. I’m in a booth to the right when you walk in.”

“Sounds good,” you pause and Jimin can hear the churn of your wheels as you take a turn. There’s a silence that signals he should hang up, but he can’t find the strength to. There’s an odd sense of comfort in listening to your breath on the other line.

“I-I missed you,” you stutter after a moment, hesitant to reveal how you truly feel. Speaking it would make it true, and that worries you. After denying you still cared for the man for three years, it was difficult to allow yourself to be optimistic. You’ve been distancing yourself to keep your heart from fracturing for a second time, but as the days passed you just wanted to yank down your walls. So many jumbled thoughts are on the tip of your tongue. You have missed him all day. His face would appear every time you shut your eyes. He was prominent in your mind.

“I’m glad you called,” you add when you realize this meet-up was his doing. If it weren’t for his call two weeks ago, you would be hiding in your house as you shoved all the memories of you and him that this city resurfaced.

Jimin’s heart clutches in a way he hasn’t felt for years at your words. He stares out the window, watching as the last bit of sun disappears along the horizon.

“I missed you too,” he breathes out shakily. He swears he hears a sound akin to relief from your end.

“I’ll see you soon then.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you soon.”

Three words die on his lips as the call disconnects. It’s too soon to say those words again but after years of ending a phone call with them, it felt strange not to. Maybe he can get back to that point in your relationship. It will come easy to him to fall back into that pattern with you. It’s not like that feeling left his heart. His entire body is stained by you. He’s a fool to think he can scrub you off him.

The prospect of being able to hold you in his arms or feel the softness of your lips makes his heart somersault. Hell, just being able to be in a six-foot radius makes him giddy.

The thought of you moving on already is in the back of his mind. He knows it’s a possibility, but he will solve his emotions if that moment ever transpires. He’ll rather fantasize about you smiling and telling him you love him than frowning and saying you didn’t. Perhaps he is being delusional, but he will hold on to the hope you still want to rekindle what you both had.

As the minute ticks by, he grows disheartened. It’s been more than eleven minutes and you haven’t stepped foot inside the café. The coffee he ordered himself is becoming cold.

Perhaps there was traffic. There wasn’t any when he traveled, but maybe you were taking a different way. Or maybe he sounded too eager on the phone. Did that scare you?

The onslaught of questions pours on him as he bows his head and fiddles with his phone. You’ll call any second and tell him how you’ve hit every red light and were running later than planned. He’ll sigh in relief, tell you it’s okay again, and maybe he’ll get you to stay on the phone longer. The sound of your voice was comforting to him, and it made warmth spread throughout his body.

He holds onto that feeling while he waits for you.

The café is closing.

The staff tells him he has to leave and ushers him out so they can clean and go home.

Jimin is distraught.

His phone remains without notifications. He had heard you driving so surely you didn’t stand him up. But perhaps you were driving somewhere else and used that as an excuse to say you were on your way. No. That didn’t sound like something you would do. You wouldn’t go through that hassle instead of telling him a simple no.

Regardless, you don’t show.

It crushes him more than he’ll admit.

He sits in his car for a few minutes, thinking of what could have happened. He decides to drive the route you probably took if you were to go to the café from your home. Maybe he can find you stuck in traffic. It’s a silly idea, but he doesn’t want to believe you stood him up.

Just his luck.

There is traffic.

The cars in front of Jimin move at an agonizing pace. He’s tempted just to ring your cell and ask where you are, but he’s fearful he was right and you played him.

He drives at an odd angle to see if there’s construction. Instead, he sees blue and red lights flashing in the middle of the four-lane road. There are three police cars and two ambulances, but none of them have their sirens on.

When he nears the accident, he spots parts of debris from the vehicles scattered along the road. He slows down more as he passes, partly due to being careful not to hit anything or anyone and because humans are curious creatures.

Illuminated by the street and emergency lights are two cars—one bigger than the other. The smaller one is flipped on its top; some of its windows are broken. The bigger car is upright, the head crunched significantly. Something about the flipped car pings familiarity but he’s not sure why. Whatever it is though, it’s strong enough to make him detour and park next to an empty cop car. He can hear the police direct him to get back in his car and leave when he steps out.

Jimin tells them something, but he’s not even sure what he’s saying. He’s too zeroed in on the upended car.

It’s not until he rounds a police car to get a better look that it clicks.

There’s an “I ♥ Billiards” sticker on the car’s bumper that he pranked you with years ago. The packaging had said it was easy to remove, but from the torn, jagged edges and scratches across the surface, that was a lie. Despite the initial groans and whines from you when you first spotted it, he knew you were secretly fond of it.

The sticker is more tattered than the last he saw it. It is as if you had tried to unstick him from your life, but similar to the strong adhesive, it wasn’t completely successful. There were still remnants of him.

Jimin walks dazedly to the front of the car. He staggers on legs that feel like twigs, struggling to support his weight. The soft pink of his cheeks is draining before he sees it.

The sight has him immediately reaching for the cop car for support, but it does nothing to stop the buckling of his knees as they collide with the concrete. The pain in his kneecaps is nothing compared to the pain in his chest.

The flashing red and blue is reflected in your eyes that stare blankly into his. One arm lays limp outside your shattered window while your head rests at an uncomfortable angle. There’s blood on your body but he can’t see its origin from his blurry vision. He swears he can spot the slow rise and fall of your chest, but he knows in the back of his mind he’s just hallucinating. Your eyes are a portal to your emotions and he can see the remnants of remorse. The look resembles how you looked at him the last time he saw you.

“Have you figured out which college you want to go to yet?” You questioned while you sat up from his warm embrace. Jimin’s hand glided down your back as you repositioned yourself to straddle his lap. He followed your lead and shifted so his back was propped against your headboard.

“Yeah, it’s in Seoul so it’ll only be a three-hour drive to see you.”

You gave him a smile, but Jimin could tell it wasn’t filled with the happiness he expected. He didn’t like the way his chest clenched involuntarily.

“That’s great, babe,” you said, flickering your gaze to his chest briefly. Jimin could sense your detachment and it scared him.

“What’s wrong? Three hours isn’t that bad. I’ll come to you so you can stay in your dorm.” Jimin reached up, wrapped his hands around your wrists then gently tugged you to his chest. Before you could protest, he encircled your back with his arms. Jimin waited for your body to relax, as it usually did when you were in his arms, but it never did.

Silence filled the room. The pounding of your heart was loud enough for Jimin to hear and he wondered what happened to have you so distressed. As he opened his mouth to reassure you again, you spoke.

“I got a scholarship,” you blurted. Your eyes closed as you rested your head against his toned chest. Despite wanting to mold your body into his, you couldn’t block the anxiousness from seeping in.

“What?” Jimin asked and pulled you away slightly to look at you. “That’s great news, kitten. You’re too intelligent to not get one.”

You hummed, a shy yet melancholy smile forming on your lips. Jimin scrunched his eyebrows when he noticed your lack of excitement.

“Isn’t that good, Yn?” He questioned. You bit your bottom lip in thought. Jimin could see the war you were battling internally and it caused red flags to sprout.

“I-It’s in the States,” you stammered and searched his eyes.

Jimin’s arms tensed around you. His crestfallen expression had you break eye contact. It was simply too painful to watch his face crumble.

“I-” Jimin started but stopped himself. He what? He’d fly every weekend to visit you? Once a month? He didn’t have that kind of money.

“I can call you every day. We can video chat,” Jimin said suddenly, eyes filled with hope that had you falling more in love.

“Yeah,” you answered, but you didn’t believe your own words.

Jimin knew it was wishful thinking. Every long-distance relationship he’d heard of ended in failure. The video calls were sufficient for the first few weeks, but as the semester got crazier, the less time the couple had for each other. They would end up drifting apart regardless of the attempts to salvage whatever was left.

“I would’ve denied it if it weren’t for the scholarship,” you added. “The university also has the major I want. My counselors believe I can be really successful there.”

While there was a glint of excitement in your eyes, the sorrow overpowered it. Jimin nodded in understanding. He was told Seoul was his best opportunity to excel in his career field. How could he pass up the opportunity to be first in his classes? With the tough competition in his field, he could use any leverage he could get to rise to the top.

“I’m happy for you,” Jimin replied. He meant it. He was genuinely proud of you and you knew that. But it didn’t make anything easier.

“Thanks,” you mumbled. Silence loomed over you both as you each got lost in your own thoughts. Your eyes trailed over his features. From his plump lips to his scattered moles across his forehead. You memorized every detail of his face and as each detail filed itself in your mind, your heart grew heavy.

“We’re not going to make it, are we?” You questioned and moved your gaze slowly to his. His eyes were dark, swirling with affliction and dread. You could already see his defense walls rising.

“I’d like to,” Jimin answered softly. “But I… It’s unlikely.”

“I love you,” you declared abruptly, the urge to tell him one last time too strong to ignore. There was a desperation to your voice Jimin has never heard before.

“I love you more, kitten.”

Jimin’s voice was gentle and angelic. You were so engrossed in the way his voice engulfed you that you didn’t realize the fallen tear on your cheek. Jimin was quick to wipe it away with his thumb, the coldness of his ring making you shiver slightly.

“I should go,” he whispered, almost reluctantly. You nodded meekly and climbed off his lap. He gracefully maneuvered off your mattress and strolled to your door.

“I can walk you out,” you offered and forced yourself to meet his eyes. In the brief time it took to move from your bed to your door, Jimin had his own tears sliding down his rosy cheeks. You mimicked his earlier actions and smoothly wiped at his cheek. He faintly leaned into your touch.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, then with a deep breath, stepped away from you. His hand was on your door handle when you gripped his wrist.

“Wait. Please,” you begged. “C-can you,” you trailed off but glanced at his lips to indicate what you wanted. He seemed hesitant. His jaw clenched as he mulled over your request.

“Just this once,” he murmured and cradled the side of your face as he leaned in. “Just one more moment like this.” His breath tickled your face as he spoke.

The kiss was overwhelming. What started off as a gentle kiss quickly turned into desperate glides of lips and tongues. Both his hands were caressing your cheeks while yours clutched his lower back. There was no hatred in the kiss. You nor Jimin were upset with each other. You both had known this was bound to happen; high school couples rarely lasted after graduation. You told yourself it was just another hardship in your life. That letting Jimin go was the right thing to do. You didn’t allow yourself to imagine a life without him because then it would be too easy to follow him to Seoul.

Only when neither of you could breathe did you pull away. The gasps of breaths and harsh breathing filled your small bedroom. The rapid thumping of your heart matched his. He was the first to pull away.

He stared at you as he placed his hand on the handle again. Your eyes were wide, silently begging him to stay, but you knew this was for the best. This was destined to happen. This wasn’t going to work in the long run and you would need to focus on your studies more in college anyway. Maybe once you graduated from university could you try to reach out again. But who knows? He could forget about you by then. You had the briefest thought of if this was truly the route you wanted to take. Was everyone right to say you needed to be successful in order to thrive in life?

Before you could change your mind, Jimin opened your door and slipped behind it.

He had seen the turmoil behind your eyes. There was a flicker of tentativeness but he couldn’t allow himself to linger any longer than he already had. You had both known your fate. If you didn’t call it quits then, you would at graduation.

But maybe you could have made it work. Maybe if you both had just tried.

From the look in your vacant eyes, he could sense the same thoughts had run through your mind. Were your last thoughts of him then? Did you die regretting listening to the same foolish advice he has been pondering over lately? Had you wished you told him you loved him one last time? Did you die wanting to hear him tell you he loved you more? He’s reminded of the way those words got caught in his throat earlier on the phone with you. Suddenly those three words tastes sour in his mouth.

His eyes refocus on you in the car.

He can’t breathe.

There’s a firm grip around his throat, blocking his airway. He feels as if the grim reaper is sucking his soul out of his fragile body. He might as well be.

Jimin can’t stop the sob that rips from his throat as his hands dig into the floor, unknowingly pressing into glass shards. He can’t feel the coldness of the concrete, the impaling of the shards, or the saltiness of his tears.

The voices around him sound distorted. They’re slow, drawn-out, and distant; but they don’t echo.

There are hands around his arms that he staggers out of.

"Please,” he hears his voice faintly in his ears. Has he been speaking this whole time?

He doesn’t make it one step because the set of hands is on him again—more forcefully this time. He tugs on the restraint, freeing one arm, but that doesn’t aid him in his escape. He’s grabbed by a second person.

He drags his feet, creating a pathway in the debris when the people pull him away from the scene.

Away from you.

Cold metal is enclosed around his wrists before he’s tucked inside a vehicle. He belatedly registers that he’s been handcuffed and stuffed inside a police car. He stares outside the window. Your static face is still in view and he presses his forehead against the chilled glass.

He squeezes his eyes shut and feels the streak of tears fall for the first time. Memories of the two of you replay in the darkness of his vision. He slams his head against the window in anguish. He needs to feel something other than this suffocating guilt.

When he opens his eyes, you’re still there.

Would things have been different if he didn’t believe the advice and sought success and power? Would he still be able to cradle you in his arms and kiss your lips swollen?

There’s nothing stopping the torrent of questions from drowning him. Everything he envisioned for the two of you comes plummeting around his feet. He wonders if he will ever be able to find true success without you.

A shuddering whimper racks his body as he continues to torture himself by staring at your lifeless body.

He desperately wishes he could sell his soul for a bit more time with you.

A/N:

“We don’t realize how much we need something until it’s taken away from us. We are so distracted and focused on what’s next, we can fail to see what is actually in front of us.” - Dom, YUNGBLUD

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

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petersnya · 3 years

Text

SOMETIMES PT.3

PETER PARKER X FEM!READER

Warnings: Angst (alotttt. I’m sorry lol)

Word count:1873

[A/N] So that there’s no smut in this part but it is SO worth it (trust me I hate when there’s no smut but this part is so SO GOOD)this part kinda like, BROKE my heart… ok it DID break my heart… SEND ME YOUR FEEDBACK AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST FOR EACH CHAPTER! ENJOY… (send a request for anything you want me to write or if you have any ideas)

-J.T.S xxx

PART ONE PART TWO

Ever since the incident at the drive-in theater, Y/N has been avoiding Peter. Whenever MJ, Peter, and Ned would walk out of school together, Y/N wouldn’t be leaning out of the window of the car smiling and waving at them. She would have the window rolled up and looked either straight out the ahead or down at her phone.

Peter told Ned about the whole situation but didn’t tell MJ. He knew she would kill him because Y/N is her cousin and their like sister towards each other.

“Peter I don’t know what your gonna do, but you gotta do it fast cause sooner or later MJs’ gonna find out and your not only gonna lose the girl you have a major crush on but also your best friend,” Ned pointed out to Peter. Peter didn’t want to admit it but he was right. He had to come out with the truth to Y/N one way or another. He had to tell her that he does like her and that he lied about the stark internship.

He had to tell her that he was Spider-Man.

“Yeah Ned, I guess you right.”

“I am right Pete. Now go get your Princess Leia,” Ned teased as the bell rang, signaling that it was time for them to leave. The two boys made their way out of the building, talking about their project they still had yet to finish. They didn’t see MJ around like how she usually is until they heard familiar voices coming from behind them.

“Here’s your schedule and your and the supply list. You can also sign up for clubs if you would like,” an administrator said.

“I’ll think about it. That you so much.” there it was. That voice. It was Y/N talking to the administrator. But I thought she was homeschooled? Peter thought to himself, trying to wrap his mind around what was going on. It’s not like it was a bad thing that Y/N was coming to Midtown, but MJ told him that she really wasn’t the type to go to school. She hated big crowds of people and was never really good at making friends.

“Ok well, I can’t wait to have you as a new student at Midtown!”

Peter and Ned looked at each other with wide eyes then turned fully around to see who was behind them, even though they already knew by the voices. “Peter…”

“Ned,” he said to the tan boy next to him. They were both in shock by what they just heard.

“Y/N’s going to Midtown?” they said in sync.

“Yes, she is,” MJ added as she and her cousin walked over to stunned boys. Ned sent them both a smile and Y/N sent him one back with a small ‘hi’. Peter couldn’t help but notice that something was different about her.

She’s not wearing her glasses.

The four of them walked out of the building together, telling Y/N about all the teachers and classes at the high school. She also explained that she was tired of being homeschooled and wanted to have something to do outside of her one personal bubble. This new information didn’t make much sense to Peter. She seemed so happy when she was at home from what he could see.

Ned said goodbye to the two girls before heading over to the bus, beckoning Peter over.

“Later MJ, b-bye Y/N.”

“See ya, Parker,” MJ responded before getting into the passenger side of the car, kicking her feet up on the dashboard.

“Hey! Feet off the dashboard dude,” Y/N yelled at her cousin. MJ mocked her expression before chuckling lightly- keeping her feet on the dashboard. “Goodbye, Peter,” she said coldly, turning back to Peter before getting into the driver’s side, pulling away from the curb before speeding off down the road.

“I miss you.”

The brown-eyed boy whispered to no one, but it was meant for Y/N. He truly did miss her. Even if they had met only one week ago, that same surge of energy raced through him. Peter knew this wasn’t an ordinary crush- he didn’t know what it was. But he knew he couldn’t afford to lose it. He felt like he was falling apart without her. He didn’t intend to be that rude to her that night at the drive-in, it just happening and he regretted it the second he did it once he saw that heartbroken-hearted look on her face. But instead of apologizing to her, he just sat there.

“Sup penis Parker!” a kid named flash yelled and he sped by him, causing Peter’s brown curly hair to fall into his face. Great.

“Hey kid, I ain’t got all day. Ya getting on or not?” the bus driver said to Peter. He slumped his shoulders and lugged himself into the bus, taking his seat next to his best friend. “It’s gonna be ok man,” Ned told Peter, trying to comfort him.

I hope so.

///

Peter was late-night patrolling as he usually did and spotted MJ’s place. Not being able to restrain himself he swung over to the building next to it. He noticed that that same room light was on that was on the first time he stopped by MJ’s on a night patrol as Spider-Man.

Looking through the window to the lit room, he saw Y/N. she was sitting on her bed, her legs crisscrossed as she wrote something down in a thick, brown, leather-backed journal.

He smiled at the sight before him. Y/N was wearing the glasses. She pushed them up on her face with her knuckle and continued them to write. Someone must have called her name because she got up from her position on the bed and left her room.

Curiosity took over Peter as he swung over the ledge of the fire escape that was right at Y/N’s window. He peered into it and used his mask to focus closely on the open journal sitting on the bed. It was a letter:

Dear dad,

I can’t do this anymore. I miss you so much. You were what made me smile every day, and you still do. But I thought I had found someone who could make me smile even more. He’s beautiful dad. He has amazingly curly brown hair and the brightest brown eyes I had ever seen. His smile made me smile just like how your smile made me smile. He was the one that convinced me to wear my glasses… your glasses. Not MJ. not mom. He did. I thought he liked me as much as I liked him, but I was wrong. And now I can’t stop thinking about what you told me: some people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes. I think he was the one dad, the wrong one. The one I wasn’t supposed to be with. But why does it hurt so much? I’ve been preparing for this to happen to me ever since you told about false love. But now that it actually happened, I cant take it. I cant let him go. But I-

The letter stopped. And anyone could tell that Y/N had been crying as she wrote it- there were tear strains covering the page.

Peter felt lightheaded. Tears flooded his chocolate eyes and he unfocused his mask from the page. He slumped down, his back not facing the window. He was hurt. It felt like everything in the world had stopped, as time had frozen. He couldn’t bear to know the fact that he hurt Y/N so much to the point she thinks it’s her fault.

He yanked the mask off of his face, his cheeks burning a shade of crimson just like his eyes. Peter ran a shaky hand through his hair, gripping it as he grounded out in frustration.

Letting go he slammed his fist against the brick behind him, yelling out in pain. But not physical pain. He felt like someone just ripped out his heart and stomped on it.

“Hello?” Peter jumped at the voice coming from inside of Y/N’s room. Nows your change Peter. Just go tell her the truth. That’s what one side of Peter said, the other side was the opposite. You cant tell her now, she’ll just hate you more. You have to wait for the right moment.

But when was the right moment?

“MJ, did you hear that or am I fucking crazy?” Y/N asked as she exited the room. Peter took this chance to get away without being seen. He made his way but to his shared apartment with Aunt May. Entering his room and sitting on his bed, tears ran down his face as he silently sobbed.

///

“Students, I need your attention,” everyone quieted down their own conversations to hear what was about to be said. “I would like to introduce you to our new student, Y/N,” Peter’s head snapped but to look to the front of the class. His eyes landed on Y/N. he couldn’t help but admire her outfit. She was wearing high-waisted but loose, flared jeans with a grey Slytherin sweatshirt and black converse- ones like MJs. her fingers were covered in rings and she has a small necklace. There was a bag draped over her shoulder and her hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail. She was holding her glasses in her hand, not daring to put them on.

Not in front of all these people. More importantly, in front of Peter.

Her head hung and she stared at her feet, twisting the ring on her thumb. The teacher told that she could take a seat at an empty chair, and just to her luck, Ned wasn’t at school that day. So she was forced to sit next to Peter. She didn’t want to argue so she took her seat and sat there quietly not daring to even glance at the boy next to her.

Half an hour went by and Peter noticed Y/N fidgeting next to him. Her hands were shaking, her ears were turning bright red and she shook the table from how much she was bouncing it. She was taking notes but the handwriting was illegible she was consistently squinting at the board, trying to read what was being written.

“Hey Y/N, are you ok?”

“Fine,” she let out shakily, avoiding eye contact with Peter. He grabbed her hand, causing her to look him in the eye. Y/N’s eyes were red, tears swelling in the corners.

“We’re going to the bathroom. Now.”

“No Peter I’m f-fine.”

Peter grabbed Y/N’s arm, pulling out of the chair and into his arms, picking up their belonging with his free arm. They snuck out the back door to the classroom he and Ned used to sneak out of.

Walking through the halls, Y/N’s breath became shallow. “Peter, peter I wanna go home. Please take me home. There are too many people in there. They were all looking at me a-and I didn’t want them to look at me. MJ. Peter where is MJ. I need-”

“Ssshhh, relax Y/N. I’m gonna take you home,” Peter said, rubbing her back. She nodded her head at him as they walked through the back doors of the school.

SORRY THAT THIS PART WAS SHORT BUT THE NEXT ONE WILL BE LONG AND I HAVE SOME REALLY GOOD SURPRISE COMING IN THE NEXT PARTS. I LOVE YOU GUYSSSSS

-J.T.S xxx

@love-granger

@moonlightbaby10

@oakiedokie

@hallecarey1

@tomhollandreader

127 notes · View notes

wroteasongabouther · 3 years

Text

can’t stand to see you lonely: part 3

a/n: we love a little throwback with this gif, my heart 😭 again, i can’t thank you all enough for the love you’ve shown my writing it’s truly the sweetest thing and i’m happy you guys are liking the story so far! this was is the longest part so far with a lot happening, so happy reading! remember to leave some feedback and reblog cause it’s always appreciated.

and as always, thanks to the lovely jess @arrogantstyles and jill @havethetimeofyourstyles for beta reading ❤️

word count: 19k

warnings: mentions of a partner cheating (f*** mark), minor mention of drugs (aka weed lol), alcohol consumption (tequila anyone?), and serious! sexual! tense!

fic page // let’s chat // cstsyl playlist

Y/N didn’t realize she had left Harry’s apartment the other day with his hoodie on until the next morning when she had woken up to the sweet smell of faint lavender and laundry soap. She didn’t return the hoodie, though. In fact, she shamelessly slept in the hoodie for three more nights; it was just really comfortable, she tries to convince herself that’s the only reason she’s wearing it to bed each night. It wasn’t because the smell that calmed her, reminding her of that dimpled smile and dazzling green eyes that would wander into her dreams every night now and then. And it was especially not because she found herself falling for those same pair of eyes, no, not a shred of feelings besides friendship there.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” Sammy deadpans.

“What are you talking about now?” Y/N questions, keeping her eyes on her phone as she texts back Harry.

“You and your little affair,” Sammy quips back. His choice of words causes Y/N’s head to quickly snap up and look at her friend. He’s giving her a bored look, a smug little smile on his face that makes Y/N narrow her eyes.

“I am not having an affair, Sammy, so let’s not start that rumour around the office, please,” Y/N says to him in a hushed voice. “Plus, Mark hasn’t bothered to call or text me in almost a week now. So, I’m pretty sure the next time we do talk it will be to end things officially,” Y/N explains, her voice falling flat as she feels her heart rate pick up just thinking of her and Mark breaking up. Regardless of the fact he’s hurt her feelings, annoyed her and so on - it’s still a break up, and they really freaking suck.

“I sure hope so,” Sammy says. “You know I’m team Harry all the way,” he gives Y/N a wicked smile which she only rolls her eyes at.

There were no teams to be on, she thinks. She was just becoming friends with Harry, and yeah, she found him ridiculously attractive and really sweet too, but she wasn’t dumping Mark for him or anything. If she was dumping Mark it was because of how their relationship turned out, without Harry’s help, and how neither of them are benefitting from being together anymore. Hell, they didn’t even have sex last time he was in the city. It also didn’t have to do with the fact that Y/N would be nervous that Harry could hear them. Nope that thought didn’t cross her mind not even once - Y/N finds herself biting on her bottom lip as she’s deep in thought and trying to convince herself certain things.

Her phone buzzes where she left it on her desk brings her back to reality. She picks it up and swipes up as the face ID recognizes her, opening up the messages, between her and Harry, that she was previously on. Y/N can’t help it as a chuckle leaves her lips. She notices how Sammy leans back in his chair and raises a brow at her, but she chooses to ignore him and instead keeps watching the gif Harry sent on loop over and over again.

It was a cartoon Santa, dabbing. Yes, Harry used a gif that had to do with a trend from the world's youth. Y/N never would have guessed Harry even knew what dabbing was. She holds back another chuckle and looks up a gif to respond to his. She goes for one that’s a cartoon of Rudolph, his nose lighting up like a strobe light as he dances on two legs. It’s silly, but she’s enjoying this back and forth texting of stupid Christmas themed gifs. It’s been going on for about five minutes and she doesn’t even know why or how it started, but she loves it.

How’s work so far today? Harry texts after sending a gif of the Olaf the snowman from Frozen, dancing in the field of flowers. Y/N tilts her head to the side and leans further back in her seat, stretching her legs under her desk. The work that was on her desk was long forgotten when her and Harry began texting earlier.

It’s good, I finally have a few moments of downtime at my desk. We had like four clients in this morning for some fittings for the many Christmas parties going on next week. Y/N sends that off before typing, How’s your day? Write anything good yet?

Glad it’s less busy now, don’t let me distract you with all these amazing Christmas gifs though. And I’ve got a few things written while at the cafe, finally found the right melody for another song I was working on last week. Harry types out to Y/N, biting on the nail of his thumb after hitting send. He’s been leaning on the guitar in his lap for the past twenty minutes. That melody was found, but pushed away after he got into texting Y/N.

Not too distracting, although I think Sammy is jealous no one’s sending him any silly gifs. A second text shows up only seconds later, Harry’s sometimes surprised at how fast Y/N can type. And that’s good though! Will I ever get to hear you play in person besides through the wall our apartments share?

Harry smiles over his thumb at the first text but then is biting at his nail again as he reads over the second bubble a few times. He isn’t too surprised that she can hear him play from her apartment, but he is surprised she’s asking to hear him play. He doesn’t think he’s all that great of a guitar player. It’s kind of hard to think when he’s best mates with one of the best guitar players in the industry; Mitch could outplay him any day. Harry stops biting on his nail and hovers his thumbs over his keyboard. Although he’s usually too nervous to just sit and play for someone, he finds himself imagining playing for Y/N.

Tell Sammy I’ll send him some gifs too if he wants. And as for playing for you, maybe... if you catch me on a good day. Y/N shakes her head at his response, somehow not too shocked that’s what he says. She recalls him not telling her what popular songs he had written, how his cheeks grew a shade of pink at the mere idea of Y/N knowing of his work. So, she’ll take her odds and pray that someday soon she gets Harry on a good day and hears him play something.

“Y/N,” Amanda’s voice calling her name causes Y/N to jump, sitting straight up in her seat and nearly dropping her phone. She shuts off the screen and feels the vibration from her Apple watch, a notification reading that it was time to head into the conference room to interview new interns with Amanda. Y/N looks over her shoulder to see Amanda standing behind her with her eyebrows raised and her lifeline of a notebook in hand. “You alright?” She asks, slight concern in her tone.

“Yeah,” Y/N clears her throat and stands from her desk, wobbling on her heeled boots as she gathers up her laptop and cell phone. “I’m all good, ready to find us some new interns,” she states with a smile.

Amanda gives her a look as if doubting her, but then nods as Y/N steps in front of her and they move into the conference room. It’s not until their third candidate that Y/N thought of her boyfriend. Her watch buzzes, flashing up at text from Mark, then one from Sammy right away. She ignores them and tries to focus on listening to yet another fashion student talk about their love for the industry and the company. She was once just like them, sitting on the other side of this conference table and grinning ear to ear from just being in the building. She still felt excited to come into work every day and she feels very grateful to still feel that way. So, therefore she doesn’t hate sitting there for a few hours and having a handful of first impressions with girls that she once was. But, in the back of her mind she’s wondering what Mark could have texted her. It’s been five days since the phone call she ended up hanging up on him. What could he possibly have to say?

“Thank you for coming in today,” Amanda says with a smile to their last interview of the day. The small blonde stands up as the two of them do, and reaches across the table to shake both of their hands before saying short goodbyes and letting one of the receptionists walk them out.

“I think I liked her the best,” Y/N comments, writing a quick note beside her resume.

“I agree. We’ll email back and forth a bit more about it. I’ve got another phone meeting with a few clients for the new year first,” Amanda explains as she’s reading over her planner before snapping it shut.

“Sounds like fun,” Y/N nods before walking separate ways from Amanda and heading back to her desk. As she gets closer, she can't help but notice the oversized bouquet of flowers on her desk. Her eyebrows pinch together as she slows her steps, taking in the beautiful pinks and oranges in the bouquet before reaching for the card that stuck out of it. Sammy pops up then, right by Y/N’s side almost breathing down her neck.

“Did you not get my text? These showed up like halfway through your interviews,” Sammy states, trying to read the card before Y/N can. She shields it’s away from his eyes and looks at him over her shoulder. “Sorry,” he apologizes and takes a step back.

Y/N reads the printed out note and finds herself sighing as she reads it over again. I’m sorry - Mark. Y/N shakes her head and rolls her lips into her mouth, staring at the bouquet again. That’s it, just sorry? She thinks, but then remembers that he had texted her too. Maybe there’s something more there but Y/N finds herself doubting it.

“Who’s it from?” Sammy questions. Y/N ignores him and pulls out her phone from her back pocket. She unlocks it and taps on her messages app, having to back out of her conversation with Harry in order to open up Mark’s text from earlier.

Did you get the flowers? The company sent me a notification saying someone signed for them. Y/N rolls her eyes at his careless text message; not an ounce of emotion behind any of his words, through text or on the note. She doesn’t find herself smiling at the flowers, thinking how it’s a nice gesture, but instead finding it ridiculous that her boyfriend missed the whole point of the fight and just thinks some random bouquet of flowers will fix everything that she’s feeling. Is he even bothered by the fact they fought and haven’t spoken in five days? She wonders as she shuts off her phone screen without responding.

“Mark sent them,” Y/N finally tells Sammy, turning around to hand him the card. After he grabs it, and Y/N turns back around and places a hand on either side of the vase. She turns on her heels and walks around her desk to the left, moving Sammy’s chair out of the way and placing them on his desk instead. “You can have them, they look better on your desk,” she stays in a flat tone of voice, feeling indifferent about if she should just throw them out or not.

“Are you going to break up with him?” Sammy asks, his voice is quiet and soft - sounding like a caring friend instead of a gossiping coworker.

Y/N bites down on her bottom lip and nods, “yeah, I think I am going to. I just don’t know how, breaking up with someone on the phone feels so shallow and I would hate to be broken up with over the phone.” She explains, turning back around to look at Sammy again. He’s frowning, a look of pity in his eyes.

“But it’s unfair to you both to keep this relationship going on like this, Y/N,” Sammy says, letting out a deep sigh and tosses the card in the garbage bin by Y/N’s desk. “You’ll know what to do, you always do,” Sammy adds on with a smile.

Y/N tries to mirror her friends smile but feels it fall flat on her lips. She’s doubting herself, doubting her choices with Mark these past four months, and she keeps doubting herself all day till she’s walking into her apartment. She closes her door and slips out of her coat. Y/N sighs and pulls out her phone while walking to her bedroom, taking a seat on the end of her bed before pulling up Mark’s contact.

Her fingers hover over the call icon, her heart beating a million miles an hour as she imagines how this phone call is going to go. Should she really break up with him over the phone? She thinks, yet again doubting herself. This was really the only way to do it, seeing as he won’t be in the city for who knows how long. Y/N didn’t want to be in this relationship anymore, especially since it started to feel less like a relationship as the days went on this past month. Y/N inhales deeply just as her phone begins to ring, Mark’s contact picture of him kissing her cheek fills the screen in her hand. Y/N exhales before tapping the green icon on the phone and bringing it to her ear.

“Hi,” Y/N says softly into the phone.

“Hey, you didn’t answer my text earlier,” Mark starts off the conversation with a hard tone of voice as if he’s annoyed. Y/N licks her lips and nods, even though Mark can’t see her.

“Yeah, um, sorry, work got busy,” she lies. She had the time to text him back, she just didn’t know what to say as her thoughts were clouded with how to break up with him.

“Did you get them?” Mark asks.

“The flowers? Yeah, I did,” Y/N sighs. She’s racking her brain on how to do this. How do you break up with someone over a phone call? She shakes her head and brings a hand to her forehead, pushing her fingers through the roots of her hair. “Mark, we need to talk,” she says, feeling that’s the best she can do - the good ol’ classic line.

“Yeah, we do,” Mark agrees with a sigh from him now. Y/N listens as it’s like something shuffles on the other end of the phone, as if Mark switches his phone from one ear to the other. “Look, Y/N, you’re a wonderful girl, truly, you are. But we’re not really benefiting from this, are we?” Mark says, snapping Y/N out of her thoughts as her brows pinch together.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Y/N questions.

“Uh, yeah-”

“No, no, I’m breaking up with you. I have thought long and hard about this for days now, and I don’t think we should be together anymore, Mark,” Y/N blurts out quickly, feeling as though her moment that she’s been talking herself up to all day was being taken away from her. She releases the grip she had on her hair and stares straight ahead at the painting on her wall, waiting for Mark to say something.

He lets out a long breath, “then I guess this is a lot easier for the both of us then, huh?” He says. Y/N shakes her head in disbelief.

“I guess so,” she mumbles.

“I’ll uh, I’ll send my assistant over soon for any of my things I’ve left at your apartment. She’ll bring the few things of yours that are at my place too. Are you available tomorrow?” Mark explains, asking the question so casually too. In fact, he sounds like he’s distracted with something on his end of the call too.

“Have you had this planned for a while now or something?” She asks, her eyebrows only pull together tighter in confusion. How can he act so unbothered only seconds after breaking up with her? She thinks. Sure, it’s a mutual break up, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t bothered by it still.

“Uh, no,” Mark mutters, not sounding convincing at all. Y/N rolls her eyes and shakes her head at herself - how did she even date this guy?

“You know what, whatever,” Y/N breathes out as her eyes close and she runs a hand through her hair, “I’ll be home from work around five in the evening tomorrow for your assistant to come by. Tell her to be on time, please,” she tells Mark.

“Alright,” he says. There’s a couple beats of silence between them, and she doesn’t feel upset over it at all. In fact she feels at peace with this breakup. She supposes that they didn’t date for long, and they never said I love you to each other and really didn’t spend too much time with one another the past two months. Maybe that’s why she’s not bothered by this break up at all.

“Well, it was fun, Mark,” Y/N says, “I wish you the best,” she adds.

“You too, Y/N,” he replies. And with that, Y/N brings the phone from her ear and ends the call. Staring at the screen that was on Mark’s contact info for a few minutes as she lets herself fall into her thoughts.

That was a lot easier than she imagined it to be earlier today. Y/N falls back on her bed, her hair fanning out around her as she holds her phone to her stomach and stares up at the ceiling. Did he have this planned though? She finds herself thinking. She imagines that he sent those flowers earlier to butter her up, maybe, before he called to break her heart only hours later. And having already made plans for his assistant to go through his apartment and bring her things to her. Maybe he already had gathered her things beforehand, meaning over a week ago he would have packed it up - only to come over to her house and fight with her for days on end before making her drive him to the airport. Y/N just shakes her head as her thoughts run wild.

Y/N knows exactly what she needs to do to get out of this overthinking stage that she’s got herself into. She gets up from her bed and opens her closet, her figure skates sitting on the bottom of the closet leaning nicely against each other. She finds an empty tote bag and tosses them inside, then quickly gets dressed into a pair of light blue skinny jeans, a plain white turtleneck long sleeve, and then layering by putting on a dark grey crew neck that has ‘LA’ in white writing across the front.

After making sure she has her wallet, phone and keys, she puts on a black puffer jacket and heads out her front door. Harry’s walking out of the elevator just as Y/N is locking up, he’s got a Starbucks hot drink in hand and a smile on his face.

“Hey,” Harry says, but then his eyebrows pinch together as he realizes the time, “where are you off to?” He wonders. Y/N brushes her hair from her face and lets out a small sigh.

“It’s, like, two weeks till Christmas and I haven’t gone skating yet, so I just got up and grabbed my skates to go out,” she explains, lifting her shoulder that her tote bag was hanging off. Her skates are poking out the top slightly, Harry notices the white figure skates with a pair of matching light pink guards on the bottom.

“Oh, fun,” Harry nods, meeting her eyes again.

Y/N doesn’t even think twice before she’s asking, “did you want to come with me?”

Harry smiles, causing Y/N to mirror him, before he takes a few moments to nod in response. “I would love to, yeah,” Harry clears his throat, noticing how overly excited he may have sounded. “I should dress a bit warmer, though, it’s supposed to snow tonight,” he tells her, motioning to his apartment door down the hall.

“Good call,” Y/N says, following him to his doorway. Harry holds open his door for her after unlocking it, then letting it close softly behind them as he takes off the lighter jacket he had on. Y/N smiles at the decorations around his apartment, loving how the glow from the lights of his tree filled up the space around them before he can turn on any lights.

“I don’t have my own skates, suppose I’m not a real New Yorker like that,” Harry states as he opens the closet beside his front door and starts ruffling around in order to find where his scarfs were hiding.

“That’s fine,” Y/N says with a soft chuckle, turning around to watch as he sticks his head into the closet and pushes things around. “They have rentals at Bryant Park,” she tells him.

“I’ve never been,” Harry admits. He finally gets a hold of the long burgundy scarf with a brown leaf pattern on it, his mum had gifted it to him a few years back. Harry pushes the doors of his closet closed and puts the scarf down for a moment, hanging it on the door handle before he grabs his long black coat to slip it on. Once he’s got that on, he wraps the scarf around his neck, fixing the collar of his coat and the scarf so it’s comfortable.

“You’ve really never been to Bryant Park?” Y/N asks surprisingly. It wasn’t Central Park by any means, but anyone who lived in the Manhattan area typically had walked through Bryant Park.

“Nope,” Harry says, grabbing for his forgotten Starbucks drink, bringing it to his lips for a quick sip. He looks up at Y/N to find her smiling at him. “What?” Harry questions.

“Nothing, I’m just excited for you to see Bryant Park. It’s beautiful during the Winter,” she states.

“Well then, let’s not waste any time, come on,” Harry nods his head to the door and gives her a smile while holding it open for her. She thanks him, waits for him to lock the doors before they fall into step with one another to the elevator. Harry beats her to hitting the button, literally leaning in front of her in order to push the down button before she can. Y/N shakes her head at him, smiling.

“So how was your time at the cafe earlier?” Y/N asks Harry, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

“It was good,” Harry says, tilting his head to the side so he can look at Y/N, “wrote another song about love,” he adds with a smile. Y/N chuckles and raises her eyebrows.

“Never would have guessed,” she teases him.

The whole walk to Bryant Park, all Harry can think about is when the hell was the last time he skated? That and how good Y/N looked, which is a thought that’s always going through his head, to be honest. But he’s stressing himself out, hoping and praying that some sort of muscle memory clicks in and he doesn’t embarrass himself in front of Y/N. God, maybe he should have just saved himself the embarrassing situation and declined her invitation. Harry knew the moment he looked into her eyes there was something a bit off with her; how her smile didn’t quite reach its full potential - so the moment she asked if he wanted to come along with her, he didn’t even think twice before saying yes. The girl has her own figure skates, Harry wouldn’t doubt it if she’s about to skate circles around him.

“All black outfit,” Y/N comments as she watches Harry pick out a pair of black skates in his size, “I don’t think I’ve seen you wear all black before,” she adds with a smile.

“I used to only wear all black,” he admits, “back in uni, I really didn’t venture out in fashion and only wore black jeans and black t-shirts basically all year,” he explains to Y/N, letting her lead the way to the area for skaters to sit on the many benches and do up their skates.

“I truthfully can’t even imagine that,” Y/N replies, taking a seat on the bench right by the open door to the ice rink. She looks out at the about forty people on the ice, lit up by the many Christmas lights hanging over it and a few light posts in each corner too, as the sun has fully set now. The city around them is still hustling and bustling as it always is, which makes her smile.

“It was a tragedy, but I got older and realized that fashion can be fun, especially after moving to New York, seeing what people wear out for some innocent ice skating,” he mentions, taking in Y/N’s fashion forward outfit. The style was very trendy these days, he had noticed - online and in the streets.

“I would be an abomination of a former FIT student if I just walked around New York City in leggings and a hoodie,” Y/N states, “if I’m going somewhere, with someone, I always feel the need to look good.”

“And you do, by the way, look good,” Harry says, his words coming out quick and in a bit of a stumble. Y/N can feel the blush creeping onto her cheeks. She says a quiet ‘thank you’ before she begins to lace up her skates.

Y/N has her skates done up before Harry, so she has an extra minute to take out her phone and open her Instagram app. She checks out her newest comments, liking a few, before she finds herself aimlessly scrolling through her feed and liking some posts there. Checking up on Harry, she notices he’s almost done doing up his skates, so she stands up and grabs her tote bag that now holds her skate guards and chunky black boots.

“Did you want to lock anything up?” Y/N asks Harry, motioning to the small lockers to their left.

He shakes his head, “no thank you,” he says before his attention is back on tying his skates. Y/N smiles at how his tongue pokes out just slightly passed his lips before she turns around and walks over to lock up her tote bag, making sure everything but her phone is inside.

Once the small locker door is closed, she walks over to the wall of the ice rink and opens her Instagram again, putting on a quick filter that makes it look like it’s being filmed with an old film camera before she pans her camera around while holding down the button on the screen. As she turns to face where Harry is, she cuts off the video and double checks he’s not in it. With having so many followers, she always makes sure that her friends and family are comfortable with being posted before doing so. Y/N adds a quick caption of ‘first skate this season’ with a white heart emoji before she posts it to her story, then she slips the phone into her back pocket and walks over to where Harry sat waiting for her.

“Ready?” Harry asks, smiling up at her.

“Yup,” she nods, smiling back at him. Harry nods, muttering ‘alright’ under his breath, and then stands up on wobbling legs. Y/N chuckles and reaches for his elbow, helping him stand up straight. “You’ve skated before, right?” She asks, realizing now that she only assumed that he had.

“Uh, it’s been a few years,” Harry admits, flashing another nervous smile her way. All he can think about is her hand on his arm, and how she hasn’t let go of him yet. Harry hadn’t even thought about the potential arm holding, or hand holding maybe, they could get into here. She has a boyfriend, he reminds himself over and over again as he watches her lips tug up as she smiles back at him again.

“Alright, we’ll take it slow then,” she assures him, pulling at his arm gently to get them moving forward on their skates.

Y/N takes the first step onto the shining ice, letting her blades slide over the top slowly before she takes a sharp turn and is in front of Harry in an instant. His eyebrows fly up his forehead as his eyes fall down to her skates again, noticing how worn out they look now, her left foot lifting up as she sticks the toe of her skate blade into the ice - her whole stance made her look like some sort of professional. Harry’s head snaps up and he meets her gaze, lips now smirking at his stunned expression.

“You’ve been skating a lot before then, hm?” Harry gulps, looking back down at his feet as he inches slowly to the ice.

“Since I was a kid,” Y/N reveals. He’ll touch more on it later, but first he wants to get himself onto the ice and get this embarrassment over with. Harry sighs and starts to place his right foot into the ice, letting out a deep breath as he does but just as quickly as he makes the move he’s slipping. Harry sucks in a sharp breath, ready to fall before he even has both feet on the ice. But both of Y/N’s arms fly out and grab a hold of his forearms, causing him to wrap each of his hands around her much smaller forearms.

Harry shakes his head and just decides to get it over with, pushing both skates onto the ice in a quick motion. Y/N is fully prepared for his sudden movement and skates backwards, checking over her shoulder quickly to make sure she doesn’t get in anyone's way. She keeps a tight grip on Harry’s arms and smiles as she looks up at him and sees the stressed out look on his face.

“You’re doing great,” Y/N assures him, her voice causing Harry to look down and meet her soft eyes. “We can move a bit closer to the wall so you can hang onto it for the first bit?” She suggests, motioning to the wall beside them.

“Probably for the best,” Harry agrees, nodding his head and finally taking his eyes off Y/N’s in order to make his way to the wall. The few movements on his part aren’t as hard as he thought they’d be to get over to the wall. He thinks his muscle memory for skating will click in soon, hopefully.

Y/N takes it slow beside Harry, waiting for him to get comfortable enough to only need one hand on the wall before she lets go of his arm. She already misses the warmth from his touch. Not even one day into her and Mark’s break up and she’s already feeling touch deprived. To be fair, her and Mark hadn’t so much as given each other a few quick pecks and barely snuggling on the couch the last couple days they were together. Y/N shakes her head slightly at her thoughts of Mark.

“So how did you get into skating?” Harry asks after a few moments of them finding a slow pace.

“Um,” Y/N pauses as she thinks of how to explain how her parents didn’t want to spend much time with her, so they stuck her into many different hobbies to fill the void. “I was into a lot of the typical little girl hobbies, dancing, gymnastics, art, but figure skating was something that just really stuck with me as I grew up. Probably in connection with my obsession with the holidays, and the winter season,” Y/N explains, noticing already how Harry’s pace on his skates is picking up.

“Are you, like, really good?” Harry questions. Y/N chuckles and looks away from the ice below them to meet his gaze before he’s glancing down at his skates again in order to keep upright.

“Yup,” Y/N nods, rolling her lips into her mouth to hide her grin.

“So humble,” Harry jokes with a chuckle. “You could probably skate circles around me, huh? Do those little twirly things too?”

“I could do a few spins, yes,” Y/N says and nods her head. “I’ll let you get used to the ice first before I throw out any big moves,” she adds, looking down at how Harry’s feet were moving on the ice. Every minute he is getting better, soon enough he’ll let go of that wall and be able to skate in slow laps around the rink with her.

“How very considerate of you,” Harry notes, causing the both of them to chuckle again.

They do another two laps with Harry’s hand just inches away from the wall, hovering over it just in case he made the wrong move. But then soon enough, they’re mixed in with the other skaters and making strong, smooth strides across the ice. Y/N is laughing at something Harry says about how he must look like Bambi on ice, head thrown back and eyes crinkled up, when Harry just about falls. She catches him gasping and opens her eyes quickly before catching his hand in hers.

“You okay?” She asks, clear concern in her voice as she moves in order to meet his eyes. Harry knows this isn’t the first time they’ve sort of held hands, but it still feels like her skin is too warm for his cold touch and butterflies erupt in his stomach as she cards their fingers together so effortlessly. Damn Styles grow some balls and don’t let her make all the first moves, he thinks to himself.

“‘M alright,” Harry mumbles and nods, completely losing focus on the world around them as they float across the ice looking into each other's eyes and holding hands.

Y/N licks her lips, blinking up at Harry in what feels like an innocent way but realizes the moment his gaze drops to her lips that maybe it isn’t. Clearing her throat, she squeezes Harry’s hand and then slowly lets go. Harry can’t help but feel disappointed by how short they’d held hands for, he was hoping it would at least last a whole lap around the rink. Y/N shivers and sticks both of her hands into her coat pockets, playing off letting go of his hand with being cold, but in reality touching Harry’s skin made her feel like she was on fire.

“Tell me what your favourite colour is,” Harry blabs out loud suddenly.

Y/N furrows her brows and looks up at Harry. He’s no longer watching the ice with each stride of his skates, instead his posture is completely at ease almost as he seems much more confident on the ice now. Something tells Y/N that Harry is stupidly good at pretty much anything and if he doesn’t get it right the first time it would only take a few more before he masters it.

“It changes almost every other day,” Y/N admits, biting down on her bottom lip - which causes Harry’s eyes to flicker down to her lips yet again. “Lately it’s been green,” she exclaims, as she speaks Harry’s gaze falls back to her eyes.

“Like my eyes?” Harry teases, batting his eyelashes.

There’s suddenly a group of teenagers in their way, causing their conversation to pause as they have to maneuver around the few bodies. Harry finds that he doesn’t struggle at all with the quick movements he has to make with his skates in order to get around them. He smiles to himself, proud of how fast he’s picked up skating again. Maybe he’ll try the little twirly spin around Y/N to impress her. Too bad she’s much more talented on skates and is picking up speed before making a quick turn and is now skating backwards in front of Harry with her eyes narrowed and a tight smile on her lips.

“Firstly, that was a poor set up to try and get a compliment out of me, I’ll just tell you that your eyes are very pretty,” Y/N states. Harry smiles at her words, those pesky butterflies back in his stomach once again. “And second, my favourite green is more like a dark, rich, forest green,” she explains, quickly looking over her shoulder as they turn the corner of the rink. Harry notices how effortlessly she picks up her skates and crosses them over each other to smoothly take the turn.

“Like a Christmas tree?” Harry wonders.

Y/N smiles and nods, “exactly, like a Christmas tree,” she says, a beat of silence between them before she asks, “what’s your favourite colour?”

“Pink,” Harry answers without missing a beat. It’s been his favourite for years now, since he was just a young lad.

“Like my lips?” Y/N teases, her voice dropping down into a low and soft tone that causes a fire to spark in the pit of Harry’s stomach. His eyes drop to her lips at the mention of them, which Y/N notices and smirks at him before she’s turning on her skates and facing forward again. They both don’t say anything as they skate around the other turn of the rink, avoiding an older couple that has slowed down in front of them. Y/N still has a smug look on her face when Harry glances to his left where she skates beside him. Obviously, yes, exactly like the shade of your lips, Harry thinks and wishes he had the guts to say aloud.

“More like,” Harry pauses and then smiles, “like the Pink Panther,” Harry jokes.

“You know what, fair enough,” Y/N chuckles and shrugs her shoulder.

The two of them continue to ask each other more random favourites, getting the basics down with favourite foods, favourite alcoholic drinks, and favourite word too, of course. In fact, they are just skating at a leisurely pace for quite some time. Y/N notices that the number of people on the rink dwindles down to a mere twenty and she lifts her Apple watch up, so it lights up and shows her the time. Bryant Park should be closing within an hour or two, depending if they’re on holiday hours yet, meaning that Harry and her have spent nearly two hours out on the ice together.

“I think it’s time you bust out some of those fancy figure skating moves,” Harry suddenly says unprovoked. Y/N furrows her brows and shakes her head, watching a young couple, just a few people ahead of them, holding hands, like how she wishes her and Harry could have been this entire time. But it’s too soon, she thinks.

“I don’t know,” Y/N mutters under her breath, her eyes still on the couple as they’re laughing together - much like how her and Harry have been. Did these strangers around them think they were a couple?

“Fine,” Harry huffs and starts to skate a bit faster to be a few strides ahead of Y/N before he comes to a wobbly stop a bit more into the middle of the rink out of everyone's way. Y/N comes to a much smoother stop in front of him. “I’ll give it a shot then, how hard can it be to spin around a few times.”

Famous last words, Y/N thinks as Harry tries to whip his body around to try and attempt to do a spin. She can already see how he’s lifting the toe of his left skate, the small ridges getting caught on the ice while his body is still trying to spin around. Y/N’s eyes widen as she suddenly tries to stop him, her hands just barely getting a hold of his arms before he can fall. But his weight is too much and her skates slip out from under her. A small screech escapes her mouth as the two of them begin their fall to the ice - for surprisingly the first time tonight. Harry turns them both so he gets the worst of the fall, moving Y/N so she falls more on top of him rather than on the ice. Y/N notices and quickly moves her hand to the back of his head to ensure he doesn’t smack it against the hard surface. Her fingers card through his hair, while her other hand is clenching into a fist around the fabric of his coat.

“Shit,” Harry groans as the bodies fall to the ice. Thankfully, he tries to sit up a bit during the fall, so he doesn’t hit his head but instead he feels immediately pain shot up his elbow and backside.

“Oh my god,” Y/N gasps, blinking several times as she takes in what had happened. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” She asks Harry in a rush of words.

“I’m okay,” he nods, which causes Y/N to realize her hand is still brushing through his hair. She rubs his scalp a few times with her thumb before removing her hand and quickly lifting her body off of Harry’s. “I’ll probably have a bruised ass, but I guess that’s karma,” he tries to joke.

Y/N frowns and smacks his arm gently, “don’t pull that shit again, oh my god, I thought we were going to end our night in the ER.”

Harry chuckles and sits up, taking in how Y/N has sat up on her knees with both her hands resting on her thighs. Her hair is a bit of a mess and her eyes wide and wild with emotion - but otherwise she looks alright. Thankfully, Harry did good and kept her safe in their fall.

“Just need a few ice packs and maybe a joint before bed to ease the pain,” Harry says, only half joking.

“Wait,” Y/N’s eyebrows pinch together, “do you smoke weed?” She asks. To be honest, she couldn’t imagine Harry as some pothead. Not that there was a true look to a ‘pothead’ these days. Hell, she’s had her fair share of joints and edibles while in college. Even afterwards too, Sammy loved to roll a joint or two towards the end of their wine nights.

Harry shrugs and begins to get up from the ice slowly. “Not really. It makes me a bit sleepy, truthfully,” he tells her.

“I get that,” Y/N nods, “I don’t smoke often, but when I do, I typically fall asleep within the hour after smoking. It annoys the crap out of Sammy.” She tells Harry truthfully. Harry nods as well, only a little bit surprised to learn that Y/N didn’t say no to drugs in her youth. Not that he was judging, far from it really cause he had no room to judge, but he just simply didn’t imagine her consuming anything more than a bottle or two of wine.

The two of them get up off the ice now, finally getting back on their feet. A sigh leaves Y/N lips as she brushes her hands on her jeans. “I think you falling is our cue to get out of here,” she suggests, skating slowly backwards towards the doorway where the benches were.

“You’re probably right,” Harry agrees and begins to follow her, trying not to whine with his movements as a sharp pain stings his bottom with each stride of his skates.

Y/N leaves Harry to sit on the bench they had used before and goes over to unlock her locker and get her tote bag. Harry’s lucky no one stole his shoes he had just left under the bench with no care in the world, she thinks as she walks back over and sits beside him. She unties her skates and is slipping on her boots before Harry can even untie one of his skates. Y/N puts the guards on her skates and places them into her tote bag before turning to look at Harry, noticing the pained look in his face as he bends forward to work on the laces of his other skate.

“Did you need help?” She asks him.

“No,” Harry pauses to hiss in pain, “I’m fine,” he adds, but Y/N just rolls her eyes and scoots over on the bench till she’s nearly pressing right up against Harry’s side, leaning down in order to work on his laces.

Harry watches her nimble fingers untie and loosen the laces, noticing how her hair falls as she bends down further. A faint smell of roses hits him with the movement of her hair as she pushes it back away from her line of sight. Harry looks away, glancing around them to see if anyone’s watching them because from any other view it may look like Y/N is giving him-

“There you go,” Y/N says with a smile and sits up again. Harry looks at his skates to see them completely loosened and ready for him to slip off easily.

“Thanks,” Harry says quietly with a smile.

After Harry has his trusty not-so-white vans on, they walk over to return his rentals and make their way out of the ice rink area of Bryant Park. Harry notices the shops around the park, the painted white frames and clean windows were rather pleasing to look at while the inside glows with soft yellow lights. He wonders what they sell, but notices Y/N hiding a yawn behind her hand and decides it’s probably best they just head home. Also, his ass really did hurt with each step he took.

“Would you like to get a hot cocoa before we walk home?” Harry suggests, pointing to the small shack that was open and looks like it serves hot drinks and a few treats maybe.

“I would love that,” Y/N answers with a bright smile.

Her heart can’t help but burst at the thought that Harry knows her so well already. Not even a month of knowing one another and he already is so much better than Mark ever was. He would never go skating with her or buy her a nice warm drink afterwards either. It’s a good thing he’s not your boyfriend anymore, Y/N finds herself reminding herself, which causes her heart to pitter patter in her chest again. This time thinking about how maybe Harry could maybe be her boyfriend, one day.

“Hi,” Y/N gives the small brunette at her front door a tight smile.

She’s almost thirty minutes later than Mark said she would be. But to be fair, the subway was later than usual on her way home so Y/N had only just gotten home ten minutes ago. She had texted Mark to let him know and relay the message to his assistant, but he didn’t answer, no surprise there. So, in hindsight it wasn’t the biggest deal that his pretty little assistant was late.

What the big deal was the way she just strolled into Y/N’s apartment and set the box of her things on the couch. Y/N is standing by her door still in disbelief, mouth hanging open and eyes wide at the girls behaviour. When she turns around and gives Y/N a funny look while pointing around at her Christmas decor.

“It looks like Mrs Claus threw up in here,” she says.

“Thanks,” Y/N mutters and walks over to where she stood by the couch. Mark’s assistant steps back, pulling out her phone and tapping away at the screen as she seems bored to be here. “I’ll go get Mark’s things,” Y/N says, but then just as she’s about to walk away her eyes catch something red near the top of the box of her things that Mark had packed up.

She pushes her favourite Eagles shirt out of the way and hooks one finger around the lacy red fabric. The Victoria’s Secret label sticks out of the barely there red thong that’s hanging off her index finger. Y/N doesn’t recognize the underwear, she thinks as her head begins to spin. How the fuck did a pair of woman's underwear get into this box of things Mark packed up? Why would he have a red thong at his apartment that wasn’t Y/N’s? What the actual fuck? Another round of questions are about to spew in Y/N’s head as her heart beats out of her chest but then suddenly Mark’s assistant is reaching for the lacy fabric and taking it out of Y/N’s grasp.

“Oh, those are mine. Must’ve slipped in by accident,” she stammers out the words. Y/N’s head is spinning, her heart is beating out of her chest, as she puts the pieces together.

“Really? A thong just slipped into the box?” Y/N urges, narrowing her eyes at the young brunette standing in her living room. “How long have you been fucking my boyfriend?” Y/N asks and raises her voice, the anger filling her whole body now.

“Ex boyfriend,” the brunette has the guts to utter out.

“Answer the damn question,” Y/N snaps back at her.

Her face is turning red, to match the stupid thong in her hands, “uh, it’s none of your business-”

“Just tell me!” Y/N shouts, feeling like she deserves some truth in this moment. Mark’s assistant visibly gulps, avoiding Y/N’s eyes and looks all around the room.

“Like, a few months,” she mutters under her breath, still not meeting Y/N’s burning gaze.

Her whole body is shaking with the anger coursing through her. She should have known. How could she be such an idiot? She thinks while shaking her head. Of course, Mark was cheating on her during the entirety of their relationship. They were only dating for four months, meaning that for at least half of it, he was busy screwing his fucking assistant - how unbelievably cliche of him, but also how unbelievably naive of her to not guess. Y/N brings a hand to her forehand and rubs at her temple as a headache begins.

“Can I just get Mark’s stuff and go-”

“Get. Out.” Y/N spits out the words, glaring at the brunette who has the audacity to be so nonchalant about being the other woman.

“What about his things?” Mark’s assistant all but winces out the words, her dark eyebrows pulling together.

“Tell Mark to eat a dick,” Y/N sneers, taking a step towards the girl which causes her to step back. She can’t deny the bit of joy she feels at the sight of fear in the girls eyes. “And get out of my apartment, now!” Y/N shouts at the woman.

“Whatever,” she mumbles, turning around and walking to the front door.

Y/N is hot on her heels, making sure to slam to door shut behind her. The moment she’s left to herself, her apartment falling silent around her, she feels the pain settle in. Mark cheated on her with his assistant that he then had the nerve to let come over to her apartment. The realization of how embarrassing this whole situation is hits her, along with the hurt too. Regardless if it was a mutual break up, being cheated on does not feel good. Y/N sniffles, bringing a hand to her mouth as she suddenly is holding back sobs. Tears fall down her cheeks while her brain runs wild thinking of how many times Mark could have fucked his assistant and then just waltzed into her apartment and then they-

Her thoughts are cut short as she’s bolting to her bathroom, throwing the door open and bending down in front of the toilet. She lifts the seat and empties her stomach into the bowl. After a moment she’s coughing, lifting her head out of the toilet and reaching for the lever to flush away any contents that were in her stomach. Y/N grabs the hand towel to her right and brings it to her mouth, wiping away the bit of drool at her lips.

Y/N can feel the vibration from her cell phone after a moment of sitting on the bathroom floor, zoned out on the shower and thinking about how stupid she could have been to trust Mark. She lets out a short sigh and reaches into her back pocket to find her buzzing phone. Her eyes roll on instinct of seeing Mark’s contact photo taking up her screen. A part of her wants to answer, to yell and to scream at him. But a bigger part of her feels sick to her stomach again and just tired, honestly. So, she ignores the call and opens her phone to her contacts and deletes Mark all together. She goes into her photos and does a quick sweep of any photos of them together. It was something she was going to do eventually anyways, but after the news of him being a cheating piece of shit she couldn’t waste another second before getting rid of anything involving Mark.

Mark is a fucking asshole. His precious little assistant came by to drop off my few things and one of her thongs was in the box, so she spilled the beans that she had been sleeping with Mark for months. Meaning that piece of absolute trash was cheating on me like the entire time we were together. Y/N types out the message to Sammy, making sure that he knows the drama first - but also just simply because he’s her best friend.

Sammy is typing back a response as Y/N stands up from her spot by the toilet, flushing it again due to her spitting a few times into the bowl, and then she quickly washes her hands and looks up at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes are red, her hairs a bit frizzy and out of place from the perfect curls she had earlier today, and her makeup is ruined. She decides to wash her face, drying it with a clean towel as her phone vibrates on the counter.

Are you fucking kidding me?! I’m going to kill him. Please tell me we have a murder plan, I know where we can hide the body. Did you want to talk about it? I can come over and bring a big bottle of tequila? Sammy sends each sentence as a separate text, adding a few choice emojis too. The knife is used many times. His enthusiasm makes Y/N chuckle but then she’s frowning again while walking out of the bathroom and to her bedroom.

Honestly, I just want to curl up in bed and cry it out some more while listening to some sad music. But I’ll keep you updated on any murder plans I think up. Y/N sends back her texts before throwing her phone down on her bed.

Letting out another sigh, Y/N strips out of her tight fitting pants and puts on a pair of grey sweatpants. Next, she takes off the collared button up shirt she had worn tucked into her pants today, hanging it back up in her closet to prevent it from getting wrinkled. Her eyes wander around her bedroom, a certain article of clothing was on her mind to put on and snuggle into bed with. Y/N smiles as she sees Harry’s black hoodie on the top of her laundry hamper. To be honest, it needed to be washed, but she needed the comfort of his oversized clothing more. So, she tugs it on, puts her hair into a messy topknot bun, and tugs down the hood before lifting the blanket and getting into bed.

Not even three songs into her ‘depressed? yeah, me too’ playlist of sad songs, there was a knock on Y/N’s front door. At first she thinks of ignoring whoever it is, but then her music is cut off as a phone call comes through. It’s Mark’s number, regardless that she just deleted his contact, she still knew his phone number. Y/N groans and gets out of bed. Her heart is pounding in her chest as she imagines Mark or that little assistant of his having the balls to come to her apartment again and demand for his few things he had left around here. Y/N narrows her eyes and unlocks her door, ready to glare at her sad excuse for an ex boyfriend - but her face instantly softens at the sight of Harry standing there.

“Nice jumper,” Harry comments. A smile on his lips as he takes in how Y/N looks in his clothing, days after he had lent it to her. But that smile vanishes when he notices the redness in her eyes and her pouting lips. “What’s wrong?” Harry asks, his voice full of worry as he fights back reaching for her and bringing her in for a hug.

Y/N sniffles, “um, I thought you were Mark, sorry,” she says in a quiet voice.

“Oh, sorry, is he coming over?” Harry questions. Suppose it made more sense for her boyfriend to comfort her during a bad day, he thinks although it tears him up inside that it can’t be him.

“No, no, he’s in Arizona, or somewhere. I don’t even know,” Y/N sighs, her voice sounding brittle, like it’s about to crack at any second, as she tries to keep herself composed in front of Harry. “I don’t really care actually, we broke up,” she reveals, her gaze down at the floor. Harry’s wearing those dirty white vans again, she wonders if he wears anything else.

They broke up, holy shit don’t freak out Styles, keep it together, Harry’s thoughts are all jumbled up at the news of Y/N and her boyfriends break up, which she is clearly very upset over, judging by her appearance and how she’s sniffling every second - bringing the sleeve of his Columbia jumper to her face to wipe her nose. Harry frowns and adjusts his weight from one foot to the other.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Y/N,” Harry says softly, “break ups can really suck,” he adds - knowing from experience just how terrible break ups can leave a person feeling.

“Yeah,” Y/N breathes out and looks up at Harry now, “but he’s kind of a trash human so it’s for the best, honestly,” she tells him, letting out a breathy chuckle while shaking her head. She shouldn’t be crying so damn much over the guy, she thinks.

“Oh, well then, fuck that guy,” Harry agrees with a nod of his head.

Y/N lets out a genuine chuckle at his words. She brings a hand, that is covered by the cuff of Harry’s hoodie, to her forehead to swipe back any crazy wispy hairs that are in her face. “So, what brought you to knock on my door?” She asks, smiling as Harry realizes he had gotten distracted by her state and forgot why he knocked at all.

“Right,” Harry chuckles, “um, a few friends of mine are in this band, it’s nothing crazy they just play at the pub a few blocks away. And I was wondering if you weren’t busy if you wanted to come with, thought it could be fun. But if you’re not in the mood to leave your home I understand,” Harry explains to her.

“No, I would love to come with,” Y/N insists. She lets out another chuckle and motions to her current appearance. “Just not looking like this, and as long as you promise there will be liquor involved in this Saturday night out.”

“I’ll buy you as many drinks as you need,” Harry promises with a smile.

“Then count me in,” Y/N says, mirroring his big dimpled smile. “Just give me some time to get ready?”

“You’ve got plenty of time, we don’t have to leave for another hour and a half,” he tells her. “I’ll let you get to it,” he adds, throwing a thumb over his shoulder as he takes a step away from her doorway.

“Oh, I’ll wash the sweater and give it to you soon, by the way,” Y/N says, lifting both her arms before letting them fall to her sides. Harry just shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head.

“Keep it as long as you need, it’s no problem, honestly,” Harry tells her while flashing a grin her way, hoping that it makes her feel even a little bit better. And it does, his casual response to her wearing his hoodie and then those dimples - it had her stomach fluttering. She gives Harry a small timid smile, tucking her chin down slightly into the collar of the hoodie as she watches his walk backwards down the hall to his door. “I’ll come knocking again in a bit,” Harry adds before he’s out of her sight and she’s closing her front door shut once again.

Y/N absentmindedly brings her hand to her mouth, biting on her nails as she stares off at her Christmas tree - though the lights are blurry due to her zoning out. You can do this, Y/N thinks and begins to give herself a pep talk of getting out of the sad break up phase and going out with Harry and his friends. Oh my god, Y/N’s eyes widen at her thoughts, what am I going to wear?

Y/N felt overdressed.

After twenty minutes of ripping apart her closet and tearing items out of her dresser drawers, she was truly tempted to just keep on Harry’s hoodie, pair it with some good jeans and some red heeled boots and call it a day. But that would be weird, showing up to hang out and meet Harry’s friends while dressed in his clothing. She was sure they were already going to assume things with him just bringing her along. Y/N didn’t need them thinking they had sex before too.

The thought had made Y/N blush like crazy as she tore off the stupidly comfortable hoodie and grabbed a silky white top that plunged low in the neckline, tying off just at her belly button, and then had long flowy sleeves. Pairing this with her trusted pair of light blue jeans, and for accessories: some chunky gold hoop earrings and layered gold necklaces to fill up the amount of skin she was showing at her chest. To top it all off, she slipped into her go-to black Balenciaga boots and long brown jacket to keep warm. After heading into the bathroom quickly, she brushed her hair through again and restyled the curls, put on a touch of light makeup, and then made sure to stick her lip gloss in her small black purse just as Harry was knocking on her door again.

Harry was dressed in a grey t-shirt with a large yellow smiley face, brown trousers and a blue and cream plaid jacket that quite literally made chills wash over Y/N’s body when she saw the whole fit - but that jacket, it made her head spin with some rather inappropriate thoughts. She’s a fashion major, can’t blame her for thinking clothing can make someone even more attractive. But even then she should have gotten the vibe of this evening and changed into something more casual.

But she didn’t, so now as she’s walking into a dive bar a few blocks away from the apartment building, she feels very out of place. Everyone’s wearing t-shirts and jeans, it smelt like cheap beer and cigarettes, and was definitely not the place to wear a silky white top that cost about five-hundred-dollars.

“You alright?” Harry's voice is soft and closer, as he steps directly behind Y/N after walking into the bar.

He notices how she crossed her arms at her chest and seemed to tense up almost immediately after walking in. Y/N shivers at the feeling of Harry’s breath falling over her exposed neck, having pushed her hair to lay on her left shoulder while he stood over her right. Y/N is still looking around the bar, trying to put together who may be Harry’s group of friends in this crowded bar.

“Y/N?” Harry tries again, this time placing a delicate hand on the small of her back - barely touching her, that he’s not even sure she’s noticed through her thick jacket. But she does, and she feels dizzy at the sweet gesture.

“Yeah,” she sighs, blinking a few times before looking to her right shoulder at Harry. He’s lips are so close, she thinks while trying her best to keep her eyes on his eyes. “Just feeling a little overdressed,” Y/N admits with a tight smile.

Harry shakes his head, “you look fine, better than fine actually. You look amazing,” Harry watches as Y/N’s eyes flicker to his lips for just a split second. He smiles but clears his throat, finding that they’re both blushing at his comment now. “As any FIT student in New York City should, of course,” he adds on to try and make his compliment a little less obvious.

“Thanks, Harry,” Y/N smiles.

When Harry saw Y/N for the second time that evening, it was like day and night from the hour before when she answered her door in his hoodie. She looked incredible, and was so out of his league. Dressed like she was going to a photoshoot, hair flowing down her back perfectly, and accessories that made him visibly gulp - he was a sucker for some gold jewelry on a girl, it was a weird weakness of his. And now, standing in the dim lighting of this dingy dive bar, she did look a little out of place, but in the best way possible, like she shined too bright to be in just a dark and depressing place.

“This way,” Harry says, leading the way to where he notices his friends are sitting at a table. They thankfully got his texts about him bringing Y/N with him and had two seats open for the both of them.

“Should we stop at the bar and get a drink?” Y/N asks. She’s honestly unsure how the service works at a place like this. To be honest, she hadn’t been in too many dive bars in her years.

Harry stops, looks behind him at her, and shakes his head. “We have a waitress that works basically every night my friends play, so she’ll come by and get our drinks for us,” he explains to Y/N. She nods, giving him a tight smile, and Harry can’t help but notice how she’s still got her arms crossed at her chest. Is she uncomfortable here? Maybe he can make some shit excuse after the first few songs and get her home.

Harry notices as he’s turned towards Y/N just how much attention is on her. He’s not surprised, seeing how he already realized how much she sticks out in a place like this, but he doesn’t quite enjoy seeing every male’s - and a few girls too - eyes in this place on the girl he’s brought with him. So, he makes the quick decision of holding out his hand for Y/N to take. She looks at Harry’s outstretched hand and feels her breath get caught in her throat. Playing it off, she smiles and reaches forward, watching as his much larger hand envelopes hers and tugs gently to get them moving again. Y/N’s stomach is already full of butterflies and her head is spinning at them holding hands for all of ninety seconds it takes to get to his table full of friends - she needs a drink, stat.

Harry lets go of Y/N’s hand as he approaches his friend's usual table and has to bring his arms up in order to hug Adam, who’s throwing himself into Harry at the sight of him. Harry huffs out a laugh, making a comment about how drunk Adam must be already, to which he responds by smacking Harry’s back a few times and laughing with him. Y/N can’t help it as the corners of her lips turn up into a small smile at the sight of Harry engulfed in a hug by a man bigger than him. As she’s watching their interaction, she notices how everyone else is watching her. Y/N’s smile falls right away and she finds herself crossing her arms at her chest again.

“Everyone,” Harry speaks a bit louder in order to get everyone's attention as he turns around and holds his arm out to Y/N, which she takes as her singal to step forward for an introduction and smiles timidly at the group of four others at the table. “This is Y/N, Y/N, this is everyone,” Harry announces, smiling at his friends - catching Mitch’s smug look in return.

“Hi,” Y/N says, her voice that soft and gentle tone that he had grown to like, quite a lot, actually.

“I’m Tom,” he’s the first to speak up, offering a hand to Y/N to shake, which she turns just a bit to her left in order to properly greet Harry’s friend. Tom’s got bleached hair that’s not styled and laying flat on his forehead, his roots are a dark brown that match the mustache and bit of bread he’s got. Y/N notices the few different necklaces around his neck while he’s wearing a simple outfit of a black long sleeve and black jeans.

“Jenny,” the woman sitting to Tom's left reaches over the table in order to shake Y/N’s hand. She’s also got bleached hair, and a dazzling smile too. Y/N notices the equally dazzling ring on her finger and she glances down at Tom’s hands to see a wedding band, assuming they are married due to them sitting so closely.

“Mitch,” a long haired young man speaks up just as Y/N and Jenny drop their hands. Y/N meets his gaze and blinks a few times, feeling slightly intimidated by him. Regardless of how he seems like the scrawniest at the table, his eyes just sort of bring Y/N to a stop, but she recovers swiftly and gives him a smile, returning the wave he gives her as it’s too far of a reach to shake hands. Mitch raises a brow at Harry, to which Harry is quick to return. Catching the interaction, Y/N imagines they are the closest of the group. Suppose he’s just a bit protective of his friend bringing a random girl around, Y/N thinks to herself before her attention is grasped by the last person sitting at the table.

“And I’m Adam, the only name you need to remember, obviously,” says the man who had hugged Harry upon their arrival. He’s smiling so widely there’s crinkles near his eyes, which make Y/N feel all warm inside as she stares into his big brown eyes. He’s got a full bread, like Mitch, and matching brown hair that looks like it may need a bit of a trim but he styles it well. Y/N likes his button up shirt that’s a dark navy with little white stars all around it, paired with some plain black jeans.

“It’s really lovely to meet you all,” Y/N says after shaking Adam’s hand, “thank you for letting me come crash your night,” she adds with another timid smile.

“Nonsense, it’s nothing special,” Jenny assures her, waving her hand too before wrapping it around her half full glass of what Y/N assumed was alcohol - or hoped, because she really didn’t want to be the only one drinking tonight.

“Ouch,” Adam scoffs jokingly, “guess your husbands best mates playing is nothing special then, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m hurt, Jenny,” Mitch nods, bringing his glass up to his lips to take a sip of the dark yellow foaming liquid in his tall glass - beer, okay, sweet, so we’re all drinking, good, Y/N thinks. She also notices that Mitch is the only one with an American accent. She wonders how this group all became friends, being from different parts of the world, where did they all connect?

Harry chuckles and shakes his head at his friends, looking to Y/N to find her smiling at his mates too. He places a hand on her elbow, causing her to look at him. He nods his head to the open seats on the other side of the table for them. Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and begins to walk around the table, stepping behind Tom and Jenny’s chairs before stopping at the first one on Jenny’s right. Y/N catches Mitch’s stare, now ignoring the conversation at the table to instead watch Harry and her, but she’s quick to look away from his intense gaze and focus on taking her jacket off. Just as she tosses her jacket over the back of her chair, fixing her top in a discreet manner too, a red headed woman steps up in between her and Harry who is also slipping out of his jacket.

“Hey, Harry,” the woman greets him in a sultry tone. If Harry notices the obvious show she puts into her voice, he doesn’t act like it.

“Hey, Amy,” he says quickly, looking at his chair as he pulls it out and takes a seat.

“Running a bit behind your friends tonight, huh? What took you so long?” She asks. Seems she's rather observant of Harry’s presence, Y/N thinks, while she takes her seat and looks anywhere but to her right where the red head - fake red dye too, it was so obvious - back was mere inches away from her.

“I love your top, it’s so stylish,” Jenny comments, causing Y/N to look to her left at Jenny’s dazzling smile again.

“Thank you,” Y/N says, “this may not be the place to wear it, seems more like a casual band tee kind of place,” she notes, narrowing her eyes while looking around at the bar around them. Noticing now just how many neon signs there were in the dark space. The biggest was on the wall behind the small stage, which every table was facing. The bar was at the back of the bar and there were booths lining the wall closest to the door, then a couple of pool tables and gambling machines in the far right of the bar. Y/N had spent too much time in high maintenance bougie bars to find any of this remotely normal - but she didn’t hate it.

“Rubbish, you look hot, definitely got people in here questioning their wardrobe,” Jenny states, gaining Y/N’s attention again, “hell, next time I’m stepping it up to match this energy,” she adds, waving her hands at Y/N’s outfit.

Y/N chuckles and shakes her head, “well thanks, but you look incredible already! There’s no need.”

“Y/N,” Harry interrupts the girls suddenly.

Y/N lets out a small breath before turning to face what she’s been ignoring. The flirtatious red head and Mitch’s strong stare. Y/N raises her eyebrows at Harry. She completely ignores how the waitress now stood facing both their chairs, but she did notice how her hand was resting on the back of Harry’s.

“What are you drinking tonight?” Harry asks her, lips turning up into a smile. He can’t help himself, he finds himself smiling so much around her he’s sure he has wrinkles already.

“Oh,” Y/N says, finally looking at the waitress now. Her dark makeup made her blue eyes pop, it was a bit smudged but Y/N assumes she’s too busy working to notice. The waitress, Amy - Y/N reads her name tag, pinned on her tight black v neck shirt that has the bar's name on it - is staring at her, clearly forcing a smile while waiting for Y/N’s answer. “I’ll have tequila and soda water, bring a few lime slices on the side too,” Y/N orders, knowing exactly how Upper East Side she sounds, “please,” she adds with a forced smile that she mirrors from Amy.

“Coming right up,” Amy nods before turning away, not without a lingering gaze on Harry though.

Her obvious fake customer voice was rather annoying, Y/N thinks as her eyes follow her walking back to the bar. She takes note of the crowd around the bar, many waving at the one bartender stationed behind the bar. He looks older and is struggling to keep up with the rush of people. When Y/N turns back around, to face the table again, she catches Harry eyes on her. She scrunches up her nose at him and he chuckles before their attention is taken away by Adam’s deep voice.

“So, Y/N, you're this bloke’s neighbour, huh?” He questions, nodding his head to Harry. Y/N smiles and nods, sitting back in her chair while folding her hands between her thighs.

“Yeah, we just met in passing and ended up becoming friends,” she states, catching Harry nodding in the corner of her eye while he rests an arm on the table and faces towards her as he leans slightly into Mitch. To which Mitch responds by pushing his shoulder gently, making Harry’s smile widen at how he manages to bother his friend so easily.

“Give us the tea. How shit of a neighbour is he?” Adam asks, causing everyone at the table to chuckle.

“Hey,” Harry playfully whines at his friends.

“He’s fine, great even,” Y/N tells them, earning another smile from Harry as he watches her.

“Surprising considering he’s a shit roommate,” Mitch comments after taking another long sip of his beer. Harry turns in his chair and glares at Mitch, earning a smirk from him in return.

“I am not,” Harry grumbles.

“When were you two roommates?” Y/N asks, finding herself bringing a hand up to adjust her necklaces. Anything to keep her nervous hands busy. Suppose making new friends wasn’t her biggest strength, it was a rather nerve wracking experience to be honest.

“We just room together when we travel for any work stuff,” Harry answers, meeting her eyes for only a brief second before he’s looking back at Mitch. “Mitch here just likes his beauty sleep, while I have a pretty set morning routine I like to stick to,” Harry explains, looking back at Y/N as he finishes talking.

“Yeah, that starts at like six in the morning like a crazy person,” Mitch huffs jokingly.

“Six is way too early,” Y/N agrees, nodding along with Mitch. “At least give the man till nine,” she adds.

“He’s just being dramatic,” Harry states. Mitch mumbles something under his breath before taking another sip of his beer. Sounded a bit like “say’s the drama queen himself” but Y/N isn’t sure. Regardless, the interaction makes her smile. Just as she’s about to make another comment, Amy returns with hers and Harry’s drinks. Setting his down first with a smile before turning to Y/N and placing the glass of tequila and a small dish of limes too.

“Thank you,” Y/N says. Doesn’t matter if she thought Amy had an attitude problem, Y/N had manners.

“Anything else for the table? Another refill for you boys before you head up on stage?” Amy asks, ignoring Y/N completely and instead turning her back on her and looking at Mitch and Adam. Y/N notices how she leans her body into Harry a bit, her arm resting on the back of his chair again. If Harry notices, he’s oblivious to her motives. It almost makes Y/N laugh at how Harry’s ignoring her.

“Please,” Mitch nods, lifting his glass to finish off the rest of his beer. Y/N tries to hide her facial expression as she is impressed with how Mitch manages to gulp down the beer so fast, instead bringing her focus to her own drink - which she was looking forward to downing herself honestly.

She picks up a lime wedge and squeezes it over her glass, watching the juices squirt out and into her glass. After she stirs it with her straw, she brings it to her lips and gulps back nearly half of it. Y/N suddenly feels her phone buzzing in her jean pocket. She sits up slightly in order to slide it out of her pocket and looks at the screen. It’s Mark’s number again. Rolling her lips into her mouth, she declines the call and sets her phone screen down on the table before grabbing ahold of her drink again and having another sip. He sure has some nerve to continue to call numerous times, Y/N thinks as she zones out from whatever Harry and his friends were talking about.

“Y/N grew up in the city, actually,” Harry states. Y/N raises her eyebrows and looks around the table to see everyone’s looking at her now. She’s missed what they were talking about prior so she just spit balls it here and smiles.

“Um, yeah, born and raised,” she nods, “I noticed you all have quite a jumble of accents, where are you all from?” Y/N asks, looking towards Tom and Jenny as they begin to explain where they were separately from before meeting in London.

Harry watches Y/N while his friends speak, mostly because he already knows everything there is about their lives, but also because he likes watching Y/N. Taking in her small mannerisms like how she talks with her hands quite a lot, and how she rubs her ankles together under the table as she listens to Adam talk about his wife and kids back home. They all chat amongst themselves, making jokes and laughing too, for nearly thirty minute before Mitch and Adam are whisked away to the stage. Harry feels his chest bursting as he sits back and watches Y/N interact with his friends as if they are her own. He smiles when she looks his way, her cheeks howling as she sucks on the straw of her second drink - nearly finishing it while staring at him. Harry has to break the gaze as his thoughts run a different less innocent route, causing him to readjust how he’s sitting and clearing his throat just as the lead singer of the band introduces them.

“So, why aren’t you in the band?” Y/N asks as the beginning chords of their opening song play out. She’s leaning her elbow on the table, resting her head in the palm of her hand while turning her head to Harry - shutting out Jenny and Tom completely but they’re too busy watching the band to care.

“Bold of you to assume I have enough talent to be in a band,” Harry says with a smirk. Y/N rolls her eyes and reaches for her glass, bringing the straw between her lips and finishing off the tequila and soda water with three squeezed lime slices in it - Harry watched her prepare her drink both times, finding himself intrigued by her drink of choice.

“You are definitely talented enough,” Y/N says, “from the bit I’ve heard through the walls, you’re great with a guitar and I’m assuming I’m right considering that your job revolves around music.”

“Well, they already have a guitar player,” Harry notes, nodding his head towards Mitch who’s strumming away on his guitar. “And he’s one of the best in the business so if I did have any talent, he wipes me out without a question,” Harry insists.

Y/N is about to respond but then the band is starting to really get into the song. She turns her head, sitting up straight again, and watches the band perform. They’re really good, she thinks and starts to bob her head along to the song. Harry tries to not be obvious, but he stares at her for a few moments before facing the stage to watch his mates as well. He smiles as he watches her get into the music, nodding along with the bass line and tapping her foot to the drums. They’re performing one of Harry’s songs. He had written it a couple years back when he had finally settled into New York, hence the title ‘Ever Since New York’. He didn’t sell the song to any big artist, instead he kept it within his personal folder and when Mitch asked if his and Adam’s band could borrow it Harry said yes. It was one of the few personal songs he would let his friends borrow, others were too much of him to let someone else sing.

Y/N is seriously enjoying herself. The tequila has hit her, settling into her body with a constant buzz, and this band was so good. She’s shamelessly swaying her body in her chair and nodding her head back and forth with the beat. To be fair, so was everyone else at the table. Jenny matched her energy perfectly, even throwing an arm around her shoulders as the course of their third song picked up - Jenny knew the lyrics and sang along, causing the two of them to erupt into laughter afterwards. After Jenny turns her attention back to her husband, Y/N looks at Harry and notices him lightly singing along while bobbing his head too. She smiles and ends up watching him instead of the band for maybe a little too long. He turns his head and catches her stare, raising a brow but she just shakes her head and leans closer to him to ensure he can hear her before speaking.

“They’re really good,” she compliments, “like a lot better than some of the mainstream artists I’ve seen recently,” she adds on just as the band finishes up another song.

“Yeah, they are,” Harry nods in agreement, “but the bands really just a hobby for all of them since they are all involved within the industry already.”

“Oh, that’s sick though,” Y/N says, “not everyone’s hobby includes filling up a dive bar in New York City every weekend with people singing along to your songs,” she exclaims. She had looked around the room earlier during the last song to see it wasn’t just the bandmates' friends that knew the words to their songs. Majority of the people in the bar were singing too, clearly being regulars to their sets.

Amy arrives at their table again, setting down everyone's refills in a rush, thankfully being too busy to stop and flirt with Harry. Is that jealousy, Y/N? She questions herself in her head. She ignores her thoughts and brings her new drink to her lips, not even bothering with the lime slices this time as she’s feeling a bit drunk now and honestly could care less. As the band opens their next song with some strong drums and an incredible electric guitar melody, the crowd goes a bit crazy. Y/N furrows her brows and looks at the people at her table, Tom and Jenny are also hollering at the band while Harry is chuckling. He meets her eyes before echoing the crowd and cheering on his friends. Y/N’s eyes widen and she huffs out a laugh before she grabs her phone quickly and opens her Instagram.

Just in time, she opens her Instagram stories as the song picks up and the small crowd that had formed overtime at the front of the stage starts to dance around. Everyone is cheering and singing along, causing Y/N’s jaw to drop in pure amazement. She holds down the button to record and gets a quick ten second video of the band rocking out while the bar sings and goes nuts as the bass line played by Adam kicks in and their drummer flings his body around to play one of the most addicting beats they’ve played so far. Y/N shakes her head and swipes a filter on before tapping on the screen, turning to face Harry - who’s already watching her, of course.

“Does the band have an Instagram?” She asks. To which Harry just shrugs in response, because he really isn’t too sure - he’s not hugely into social media himself.

“They do!” Jenny says with excitement, Y/N turns in her seat and grins at Jenny as she spells out the bands Instagram handle. “I keep trying to get them to stay active on it but they barely do,” she states.

Y/N slips her drink that she holds in one hand and taps ‘post to story’ on her phone that in her other hand. “Well, they might get, like, a few notifications flood in since I tagged them in my story,” Y/N tells her.

“Oh yeah?” Jenny questions. “Are you big on Insta?”

“It’s kind of grown over the years, I just hit half a million last week actually,” Y/N states. Her words cause both Jenny and Tom’s jaws to drop. Suppose it’s quite a big number, Y/N thinks.

“That’s insane, oh my god,” Jenny says, “is social media like your job then?” She asks. Y/N notices how both Tom and Harry are more interested in hearing about her Instagram than the band’s next song, to be fair it is a slower tune, but still it shocks her a bit.

“Um, not really,” Y/N licks her lips, “I have a career at a fashion studio in the city, we style the city’s elite and some celebrities, do their personal shopping and all that. But the social media thing is really just a little add on, I guess,” Y/N explains, pausing a few times as she feels a bit nervous telling them about her following. Some people saw it as a clout thing, asking for shoutouts and tags so her followers would get their follower count up. While others thought it was childish and weird that she was kind of like an influencer in a way.

“Wow,” Harry says, his voice gets Y/N’s attention as she looks towards him now, “how didn’t I know this?” He questions with a chuckle.

“I don’t know,” Y/N shrugs, “it’s really just like a hobby, barely even that.”

“Like how the band is for Mitch and Adam,” Harry nods.

Y/N smiles and nods with him, “exactly.”

“You’re definitely the coolest girl Harry knows, by the way,” Jenny states, bringing Y/N’s attention back to her left where she sat. Y/N laughs and brushes her hair back over her shoulders.

“I don’t know about that,” Y/N disagrees and shakes her head, reaching for her drink again to take a few sips.

“No, you definitely are,” Harry corrects her, having a sip of his own drink as well. Y/N puts down her glass and smiles, shrugging her shoulders and leaning back into her seat.

“I mean, if you say so,” she says in a joking tone. Jenny, Tom and Harry all chuckle, which makes Y/N laugh along with them. The band is talking to the crowd now, mentioning that their weekly gig will not be happening next week due to the holidays. Then they’re explaining something about their next and final song, thanking the crowd before the song starts up.

“This was their first song as a band,” Tom tells Y/N. She smiles and nods, appreciating the insight from him.

The song is catchy, still fitting the bands vibe but definitely isn’t as good as some of the other songs they had played already. Y/N decides to take a final snap of the band on stage on her Instagram story. Mitch’s head is down, his hair falling forward that she can barely tell that it’s him, while Adam is grinning at the crowd which makes Y/N smile as she swipes on a filter to lighten the picture some and types out ‘new fave band alert’ as her caption, finding a red siren gif quickly before posting it to her story. As the song comes to an end the bar erupts into a roar of cheers. Y/N brings her hands to her mouth and hollers along with the bar, grinning as she watches the four boys of the band come together and bow. As they bend down Harry whistles, having both his hands at his mouth, to show his support to his friends.

Y/N widens her eyes and turns quickly to look at Harry, surprised by the loud whistle that came from him. He matches her look, widening his eyes and playing dumb as he slowly lowers his hands from his face. Y/N laughs, slapping a hand on his arm and leaning back, immensely entertained by his actions. Harry laughs along with Y/N till they both calm down and shake their heads. Just as Y/N is about to say something her phone starts to buzz on the table from an incoming call. She looks down at the screen and sees it’s Mark - again.

“Ugh,” Y/N groans and hits decline, unlocking her phone to go to her phone app. “How the hell do you block a phone number?” She asks aloud to no one in particular.

“Is it Mark?” Harry questions in a low voice, leaning towards Y/N to keep his words between them. Y/N frowns but nods her head once. The tequila in her system starts to mess with her, her screen becoming fuzzy as she thinks about all the crap she learnt about Mark earlier today. And now he was ruining her fun out with Harry and his friends.

“Where’s the bathroom?” Y/N asks, turning to Jenny since she would know the location of the women's bathroom over Harry.

“Down the hall in the back corner over there,” she points in that direction and before anyone else can say something Y/N is on her feet with her phone in hand and heading to the bathroom.

Harry looks over his shoulder as he monitors Y/N’s move across the bar. He’s worried about her, obviously, but he’s also watching to make sure no douche bag makes a grab for her. Although he is sure that she could handle it herself. As he turns back to the table he sees both Tom and Jenny staring at him. Harry furrows his brows and brings his drink to his lips, having the final sip of his third drink tonight. Jenny just shakes her head and looks down at her phone, he’s pretty sure she’s looking up Y/N’s Instagram. Tom’s still staring at Harry though.

“What?” Harry finally asks, setting his glass down with the few other empty ones at the centre of the table.

“So,” Tom pauses, “what’s going on here?” He questions, being annoyingly vague.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks, trying his hardest to not roll his eyes.

“Well you just show up with this bombshell of a woman, who is beyond anything you could’ve described her as by the way, and we’re all just supposed to forget she’s in a relationship?” Tom questions, tilting his head just slightly to the side as he stares down Harry.

“Firstly, I’m insulted you don’t think we could just be friends,” Harry says, he’s about to continue but Mitch and Adam join the table again. They get a round of ‘good job’ from everyone before Mitch is turning to Harry and furrowing his brows.

“What were you saying before?” He asks.

“That it is just possible for Y/N and I to be friends, but also not that it’s any of your guys business cause it’s not even mine, but her and her boyfriend broke up, like, recently,” Harry informs his friends, dragging his fingertip along the condensation of his empty glass in front of him. He feels silly, having to explain himself for simply bringing along a friend to hangout tonight. But he can’t deny it feels good to know that she is single now. Only to feel bad a second later as he knows that Y/N must be hurting, judging by her drowning herself in tequila drinks and getting upset over Mark calling her.

“Well, shit,” Mitch breathes out. Harry lifts his gaze to find his best mate with his usual smug look on his face. “What are you waiting for then, loverboy, make a move,” Mitch coaxes him.

“Did you not hear me when I said they broke up recently? As in maybe I should just let that settle for a while before I try and make any sort of move,” Harry says.

“Well if you don’t eventually and you let this one go, then you’re a bloody idiot,” Adam resorts, “Y/N is a prize, one evening knowing her and I understand your little crush, H,” he adds with a smile.

“Trust me,” Harry huffs out a breath and shakes his head a bit, “I’m well aware. But seriously guys, I’m just going to let it play out and not force anything. I’m happy to just be her friend, honestly,” he explains. Everyone nods, seeming to understand where Harry is at now with Y/N. Perfect timing, Amy shows up with refills for everyone to get the attention of the group off Harry.

“So, Harry,” Amy says after setting down everyone glasses, turning her body away from Jenny and the empty chair for Y/N to completely face him - her boobs practically in his face. He gives her a polite smile, leaning back in his chair in order to get some distance from her. “Who’s this new girl you brought with you? A cousin or something?” She asks, her body seeming to lean even further towards him as she speaks.

Harry opens his mouth, ready to let Amy know her ridiculous assumptions were wrong. When he hears Y/N’s voice from behind where Amy stood. “Classy,” she mutters under her breath.

Amy rolls her eyes rather dramatically before she turns away from Harry and looks at Y/N as she’s pulling out her chair and returning to her seat. “What did you say?” Amy asks, her voice rather snarky in Y/N’s opinion.

“I said, wow you’re hair colour, it’s like, so classy, I love it,” Y/N resorts, putting on a smile just as fake as her words.

Amy’s lips part, her eyes narrowing at Y/N’s bored stare. Whatever bitchy response she has lined up for Y/N is cut short as Amy’s name is being yelled by the bartender. Her gaze falls behind Y/N, looking at who had called for her, before she meets Y/N’s eyes again. She glares again, huffs out a short breath, and then is nearly stomping away from the table like a child who didn’t get the Barbie doll she wanted to play with - or rather the Ken doll. Y/N’s lips turn up slightly into a smug smile as a feeling of pride flushes over her.

“Yup, it’s official,” Jenny says, bringing Y/N back to reality as she looks away to her left. Jenny is grinning as she brings an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, pulling her into her side. “You’re one hundred percent the coolest girl Harry knows,” she states, earning a round of laughter from the group.

“You handled Amy like a pro,” Adam notes, then jutting his chin towards Harry, “H is always too nice to let her know how annoying she’s being.”

Y/N smiles and looks at Harry in the corner of her eye, noticing the slight tint of pink upon his cheeks. She flips her hair over her shoulder and shrugs, “I grew up dealing with the snobby Upper East Side kids, Amy is harmless, believe me,” Y/N ensures the group before grabbing for her drink and sucking back a few good gulps.

The group around the table begins to talk about the performance, compliments and praises to Mitch and Adam all around of course. Even a few strangers come up to give them a pat on the back and ask for a picture. They’re like royalty in this dingy little bar.

Y/N is enjoying sitting back and simply being around people, letting herself push away any thoughts of Mark. She had blocked his number while she waited in line for the washroom, then responded to Sammy’s million texts asking where she was and with who - when she told him she was with Harry he just replied with ‘#TeamHarry for the win’, which she rolled her eyes at but ended up smiling down at her phone and texting him a thumbs up back.

When Y/N finished with her business in the rather dirty washroom - the sink barely even worked, it was not ideal - and she saw Amy at the table beside Harry again, Y/N let her jealousy fly. Then when Amy started leaning so far into Harry that her boobs nearly touched his chest, Y/N just couldn’t help it. It was like her vision turned red suddenly, her chest swelling up as she tried to bite down on her tongue. But she couldn’t, she was too annoyed by Amy’s less than classy actions towards her customer.

“Hey,” Harry’s low voice snaps Y/N out of her own world. She blinks and focuses on him, feeling herself melt at the sight of his smile. “Are you okay?” He asks, more than likely referring to her quick departure to the bathroom after Mark called.

“Yeah,” she assures him with a smile and a nod. “I blocked his number, I don’t want to hear his excuses. I could really care less,” she explains to Harry. He nods in response and is about to say something else, about how Mark is a real idiot for whatever he did to hurt her. But Y/N sits up, places a hand on his arm that was resting on the table between then, and gives him another smile. “But enough about him, seriously, I’m feeling a little drunk and having way too much fun here with you to be bothered anymore,” Y/N tells him.

“Alright,” Harry smiles, peering at Y/N as his heart beats wildly in his chest. He’s pretty sure his skin’s tingling from where her hand rests. But it doesn’t last long before she moves, reaching for her glass - that she then raises into the air.

“I would like to make a toast,” Y/N announces to the table, gaining everyone’s attention and smiles, “to Mitch and Adam’s absolutely amazing performance, new friends, and to having a lovely holiday season,” Y/N beams as Harry and his friends cheer in agreement and everyone lifts their glasses into the air.

The group ends up buying shots after, then another round of drinks, and then more shots. Y/N is laughing so much her stomach hurts. She hasn’t been this happy while enjoying others' company in far too long, outside of work of course. Harry makes another joke, teasing Adam, but Adam dishes it back right away. Y/N finds herself letting her hand slip to Harry’s thigh as she throws her head back with laughter at Adam’s absurd comment. Everyone else is too focused on the banter to notice, but Harry does of course. He’s breath hitches in his throat as he feels her delicate fingers spread over his thigh. He gulps, unsure if he wants to break whatever drunken trance that Y/N may be in. Does she realize that she’s put her hand on his thigh? He wonders. But his thoughts are quickly answered as she caresses her thumb along his pants before lifting her hand slowly off of him altogether.

Y/N’s leaning on her elbow again, her chin propped up in the palm of her hand as she looks at Harry. He’s so hot, her drunk self thinks as she watches his Adam's apple bob up and down for a second time since she had placed her hand on his thigh. It happened by accident to be honest, but she wasn’t sorry about it. God, she was just itching to touch Harry. His thigh, his arm, maybe rub gentle circles on the back of his neck as he talked amongst his friends, but she wanted to touch his lips more than anything. She couldn’t stop looking at his pretty pink lips as he replies to whatever whoever said to him.

Harry catches Y/N’s glossy eyes staring at him in the corner of his eye. He rolls his lips into his mouth to stop himself from smiling. He likes how she can’t seem to keep her eyes off of him, because he does the same thing maybe a little too often. Harry turns his head and meets her gaze, giving her a smirk as she playfully narrows her eyes at him. Her cheeks are rosy from the amount of liquor she’s consumed, while her eyes truly are a bit glossed over from her being more than tipsy. She’s so hot, he thinks, as his eyes shamelessly roam over her appearance. Even hours later at this shitty bar and she still looks breathtaking. Harry’s gaze lingers a little too long on her chest, admiring the way the top fit her breasts; was she wearing a bra? Oh how he wishes he could find out.

Y/N adjusts her position in her chair, letting her left arm fall into her lap while she lays her right arm beside Harry’s. She is liking this game they seem to be playing with their eyes. She sits up straight, knowingly sticking out her chest just a bit as she watches Harry’s eyes fall to her breasts. But she keeps it classy, of course, unlike some people. Y/N lets out a breathy sigh as she looks at Harry’s hand mere inches away from her right hand. Those rings, she thinks, they could do some real damage. Her thighs clench involuntarily, her mind falling into a fog as she imagines them leaving red marks on her bare bottom or how cool they would feel against her throat.

“I really like your rings, have I told you that before?” Y/N’s voice is hoarse, but she doesn’t care as her pinky reaches over to touch the large gold ‘S’ that rests on his pinky. The metal is cool to her touch, just as she imagines. Feeling brave - thanks to her good friend, tequila - she lifts her hand slightly in order to comfortably drag her fingertip over the ‘S’ shape a couple times.

“No, you-” Harry clears his throat, feeling it become dry at the sight of her doe eyes staring at his fingers. His mind goes somewhere dirty, thinking of somewhere else his fingers could go. Tangled in her hair, wrapped around her throat, inside of her. Harry licks his lips before he speaks again, “you haven’t, but thank you.”

“Which is your favourite?” Y/N questions, her finger still lazily tracing the ring on his pinky finger.

“Quite like the inicals,” Harry answers, smirking as she glances up to peer at him through her lashes. She mirrors his smug look easily.

“A very narcissistic answer,” Y/N hums, teasing him. Harry playfully narrows his eyes at her, which she returns but ends up giggling after a moment as he sticks out his tongue at her. These inappropriate thoughts have got to just slide away for a moment, Y/N thinks with a deep breath.

“We’re going to head out,” Tom announces to the table suddenly, helping Jenny out of her chair. Jenny’s beautiful dazzling smile is on her husband as he helps her into her coat. They’ve both had quite a bit to drink too and Harry notes how Jenny latches onto Tom’s side after they’re in their coats.

“I’m still shocked you two both came out tonight,” Harry says.

“We paid big bucks for this babysitter, so they better keep it together for at least another four hours,” Tom exclaims with a wink. Jenny gasps and smacks her husband on the chest as she realizes what Tom is insinuating.

“Don’t go acting like you last longer than ten minutes, bud,” Mitch taunts jokingly to his friend. Everyone laughs as Tom glares at Mitch across the table. Y/N covers her mouth with her hands, finally bringing her finger away from where it laid on Harry’s ‘S’ ring, in order to cover her chuckles.

“It was so lovely to meet you, Y/N,” Jenny gushes, letting go of Tom in order to put her arms around Y/N and hugging her tightly.

Y/N smiles into her bleached hair, squeezing her back just as tightly, “you too, Jenny,” she says.

“Don’t let H keep hiding you away now,” she says, pointing a stern finger at the two of them. Harry laughs and shakes his head at his friend.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Jenny,” he tells her.

Then they’re all saying goodbye to the couple as they walk out of the half empty bar. Y/N glances around the place, noticing how it feels less scary now. Maybe it was the tequila that helped, or how comfortable she felt around Harry and his friends. A yawn suddenly makes it’s way past Y/N’s lips, she brings the back of her hand to cover it but ends up squinting her eyes closed as her whole body feels drained. She meets Harry eyes after the yawning stops, he shows her a small soft smile that makes her return it right back.

“Ready to go home?” He asks. She contemplates it for a moment, because she truthfully doesn’t want the night to end. But she decides to not fight it and nods to Harry.

Harry does practically the same thing as Tom just had. He announces his and Y/N’s departure, helps her into her coat, and lets her say her goodbyes as Adam opens his arms up for a big warm hug. Mitch only nods, waving to them both before Harry leads the way out of the bar. The cold night air blasts Y/N’s hair back, the sharp wind taking her by surprise as she blinks back tears from the cold. She puts both her hands into her coat pockets and zips it up all the way, snuggling into the warmth it will provide her on their walk home.

“I feel like Mitch doesn’t like me much,” Y/N admits after a few minutes of comfortable silence between her and Harry.

“What?” Harry shakes his head, eyebrows pinched together. “No, that’s just how he is. He’s quiet and looks all moody. Give him some time, he’ll warm up, promise.”

“I think he’s just protective of you,” Y/N says, looking up at Harry after they cross the road, “thinks I’m a threat or something.”

Harry chuckles and shakes his head again,“well, it’s definitely not like that with Mitch and I, plus he’s seeing someone. Her name’s Sarah, she plays drums on a lot of tracks we write.”

“If you say so,” Y/N sighs. She looks around at the sights before them. A few other mildly drunk people wander the streets, and she notices a few homeless people too, that tore Y/N’s heart apart, as they were bunkering down in the alleyways. Harry keeps pace with Y/N the whole walk home, letting her control the speed they walked and what they talked about. She would jump from subject to subject the entire time, but Harry thought it was kinda cute that she was so drunk she didn’t even realize how quickly she changed the topic.

And all too soon, they’re in the elevator in their apartment building. Harry presses the number six button and joins Y/N on the back wall. They both lean into the railing, comfortable silence falling between them once again. But it was obviously their thoughts were anything but silent. The elevator doors open on their floor, and Harry lets her walk out first as always.

“Well this is me,” Y/N says dramatically as she approaches her apartment door. Harry chuckles under his breath, shaking his head slightly and letting his eyes fall to the floor for a second before meeting Y/N’s stare again. “I really did have a great time tonight, Harry,” she tells him.

“I’m glad, I did too,” he agrees.

Y/N wants to kiss him. She really really really does. But they’re both a little drunk, and she literally just broke up with Mark yesterday - or maybe technically two days ago now since it’s past midnight. But it didn’t matter, she didn’t want to be that girl. Plus she wanted to really get to know Harry and take this slow and see where it went. That didn’t stop her gaze from falling to his pretty pink lips though. Harry’s thoughts are running laps too. He wants to kiss her. But he knows she’s more than likely still hasn’t recovered fully emotionally from her break up Mark, hell not even ten hours ago she was crying because of her shitty ex boyfriend. Didn’t mean he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her though, especially when her gaze falls to his lips.

Just as quickly as they seemed to fall into some dream like state as thoughts of kissing each other float around them, they snap back to reality. Y/N blinks a few times and takes a step back, bumping into her front door. Harry clears his throat and steps back as well, towards his own front door.

“Polar Express,” Y/N says suddenly, earning a look of confusion from Harry. “We’re watching the Polar Express tomorrow, and you’re going to play me something on that guitar of yours.”

Harry lets out a chuckle and gives Y/N a smirk, “yeah, we’ll see about that.”

“You will,” she singsongs as she focuses on unlocking her door. It takes a few extra tries to get the key in but once she does she unlocks it and opens the door.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Harry smiles.

“Goodnight, H,” Y/N says softly, smiling as well, as she leans against her door to look back at him. Harry’s smile deepens at her using his nickname. She must’ve picked it up from his friends using it earlier during their time at the bar.

She gives him one last look over, knowing very well that she’s going to dream about him in that cream and blue plaid jacket - and maybe only wearing that jacket - before she shuts her door and presses her back against it as it closes. Today was a lot. But she’s beyond grateful that Harry invited her out, introducing her to his wildly unique group of wonderful friends, and letting her get a little bit drunk too. Her chest flares up as she remembers their close moment at the bar, her touching his rings, placing her hand on his thigh-

“Oh god,” Y/N all but moans out as her thoughts go right back to the place they were at before.

She shakes her head and heads to her bedroom. Harry wouldn’t be able to hear a vibration from the other side of the wall, would he? Y/N shrugs and opens her bedside table drawer to grab her vibrator, knowing just how much she needed it tonight as she imagined Harry’s hand between her thighs. Fuck, she’s so screwed, she thinks, biting her lip as she realizes, she really really really likes Harry.

>> part four <<

thanks for reading, please reblog/leave some feedback if you enjoyed it! until next week 😘

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