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talesofstyles · 5 years

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Half A Heart II

Here it is, folks! Thank you for all the love for the first part. Hope you like this one as well!

“What the fuck are you on about, exactly?” Harry snarled. You could tell that he was raging by the vein that popped out in his neck. Harry had come a long way of controlling his temper so it was rare for you to witness him in that state. A little part of you was scared but you didn’t let it show.

“Not once I ever said a word whenever you’re being a dick to me because I know that you’re just overwhelmed with work. You’re stretched too thin. I know that you’re stressed but you just crossed the line by coming after my children.” You went on.

Harry’s voice kept rising in volume. “Yes, I yelled at them but I’ve got my reasons why. I’m not a nutter who goes around yelling for nothing.”

“Then why?” You challenged him.

“Your daughter was being a brat. You’ve failed to teach her to listen to others. She’s got absolutely no patience at all. She always has to have her own way and-”

You cut him off mid-sentence. You just simply couldn’t bear to listen to more. “Oh God is that how you talk about your own child? Listen to yourself Harry, she’s bloody three for fuck’s sake!”

“It doesn’t mean that she can act like a spoiled brat. I know a lot of three year olds who’s got better manners than your dau-”

“Stop saying your daughter as if she wasn’t yours!” You yelled in frustration.

His face crimsoned. “You literally just referred to them as your children,” He let out a huff before he continued. “Besides, you do it all the time!”

“Yeah, but I always say that in a playful manner. It’s usually when I’m joking or I’m teasing you about the kids taking after your habits or something like that but this,” You let out a harsh breath. “This doesn’t sound anything like that.”

“Argh!” Harry groaned in frustration. His nostrils flared and his pupils dilated. You were certain that that was the most cross he had ever been at you, but frankly, you weren’t much better. Your jaw clenched and if look could kill he would’ve been dead for fifteen minutes by then. “I’m never right with you. Being with you is so hard sometimes, it’s not worth it!”

As soon as his lips snapped shut, you left the room without saying another word. You were too cross to even form a sentence. You were boiling with rage that you swore that if you spent another minute in the same room as your husband you were going to poke his eyeballs out. Or whack him in the dick. Whichever more convenient. You didn’t realise your eyes swam with tears until you felt something cold rolling down your cheeks. You wanted nothing more than just to take a shower and cry your eyes out in there or curl up under the blanket and cry on your pillow. But you promised your littles for a little outing to the park and surely you could use the fresh air. You needed to step away from that cactus of a husband of yours for a second to breathe. You needed to calm yourself down because even though those words still hurt nonetheless, you knew for sure that deep down he didn’t mean anything he said.

You knew George and Eleanor had been listening to the whole exchange when they ran to you to give you a hug as soon as they spotted you walking into the kitchen. You looked down and smiled at your children, your fingers running through their hair.

“Don’t cry, mummy. S’alright, you’re alright.” George mumbled on your hip. You let out a wet chuckle realising that that was the exact same thing you usually tell your littles when they cry. It hit you that the way you talk to your children becomes their inner voice, and the fact that Harry just yelled at them made you feel worse because you didn’t want your children to think that was acceptable. But in that moment, knowing how much empathy they’ve got at such a young age made you realise that you did a good job raising your little ones, and if Harry couldn’t see that then it was his sodding loss.

And you were smarter then than when you first got together with Harry, or even than in the beginning of your marriage. You knew it was best to just let things go unsettled for a time sometimes, and you realised that space without resolution wasn’t a bad thing. In that moment, space was taking all three of your littles to Kensington Garden so they could get their wiggles out and enjoy the fresh air before stopping by your favourite Italian restaurant for dinner. You relied on your littles to distract you because they are the sweetest distraction until things at home settle back down, which you know they always do. You knew taking three children aged five and under on your own to a restaurant was going to be tricky but you weren’t ready to come home yet. Besides, after all the tears and shoutings and harsh words that had been said, your children (and you) deserve a nice stone baked pizza.

The deafening silence at the empty house finally knocked some much-needed sense into Harry’s head. He had been craving the silence so that he could work, but when he finally got what he wanted, he didn’t even last more than five minutes on his chair let alone to actually work. He paced around the house like a bloody nutter, it was as if he was lost and he just didn’t know where to go. His chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. He couldn’t stay still for longer than a minute because he felt like someone just punched him in the gut if he did so. After nearly half an hour of that walking around nonsense, he finally chose the kitchen as his safe place and sat down on the floor, before he broke down and cry.

He recalled everything he said and felt even sicker as the words went around his head. How could he yelled at his little girl just because he couldn’t be arsed to just get up and walk to the kitchen to make her some tea and give her some bloody biscuits? Who was that twat back there in the kitchen who acknowledged the mess in front of him, yet failed to see his children who were trembling with fears? Who was that scunner who talked about his own daughter like she was the most terrible human being on earth? Didn’t he promise her when she was born, to always lift her up? Didn’t he promise her to always speak to her as if she’s the wisest, kindest, most beautiful and magical human on earth, because he knows that what she believes is what she will become? And who was that prick who told his own wife that she wasn’t worth it? Honestly, he was surprised that she just left the room instead of whacked him one.

He knew that crying on the floor wouldn’t help anything, so he got up and began to prepare dinner so you wouldn’t have to. He thought that was the least that he could do. Whilst he was waiting for the lasagna to bake in the oven, he cleaned the entire kitchen and didn’t stop until it was spotless. He was doing his best to make it up to his wife and children the way he knew how.

But it was already half seven and he began to worry. He immediately ran upstairs to check on yours and the kids’ clothes just to make sure and sighed in relief when he found everything was still there. He fished his pocket to grab his phone and just when he was about to call you, he heard the front door being opened and a fit of giggles came from downstairs.

“Hey!” He greeted you and the kids as he walked down the stairs. “Did you guys have fun at the park?”

You couldn’t believe that he was acting like nothing happened. You gave him a dirty look and began unbuttoning the kids’ coats and hung them. On any other day, the kids would run to him and tell him every little detail of their outings because they knew how much he loved to hear it. The little details made him felt like he was there and that he didn’t miss out much, but in that moment none of them seemed to care.

Harry walked towards you and the kids but the kids hid themselves behind your legs instantly. He frowned at the sight of the kids hiding away from him, hurt clouded his features. He crouched down in front of them so he could be on the same level as the kids.

“Daddy’s sorry, yeah?” He spoke softly. “T’was really mean of ’im t’yell like tha’.”

Eleanor hid further behind you, tightening her grip on the hem of your jumper as she whimpered “mummy” and George was fidgeting, playing with his fingers impatiently and didn’t even spare his dad a glance. None of your kids paid any attention to Harry. You knew that must break his heart, but you also knew that you couldn’t blame your children either for reacting that way. Not once had they ever heard their parents raised their voice at them before that day so it was shocking for them.

You looked down at your husband before you cleared your throat to get his attention. “S’almost past their bedtime,” you reminded him. Your tone was flat, not showing any hint of emotion. You were just exhausted and you wanted to bathe your kids and put them to bed as soon as possible so you could go to your own bed too. “C’mon my loves, let’s get you in the bath.”

“I can help with the baby,” he offered, knowing that his nine months old was the only one who wouldn’t scream bloody murder if he tried to come close.

But you shook your head. “No need. You were busy, right? Need t’get things done?” You were just being petty but you couldn’t care less.

So you went upstairs to Eleanor and George’s shared nursery. You put the baby down to wiggle around on the rug for a bit whilst you got the water running in the ensuite for your kids and took out their pyjamas and put them on the bed. You disappeared for a second to the baby’s nursery next door to get her things before you came back to put all three of your children in the tub. You don’t usually bathe them together because good lord your bathroom looks more like a water park when they’re done, but that night was an exception. The day sucked and you just wanted to get into your bed as quickly as possible.

You sat on the wooden little red chair next to the tub, keeping an eye on the kids as they played a bit in the water. The sound of giggles filled the room as the kids made a beard on their faces with the bubbles, even your littlest let out a proper belly laugh at her silly big sister and brother.

Suddenly you heard a footstep coming closer before Harry appeared on the door frame. You glanced at him for a second before turning your head away and looked at your children instead, taking one of the coloured cups that were floating in the tub and pour the water on your baby.

“Hey,” he greeted and the kids looked up to him for a second. “Daddy just put your PJs and blankets in the dryer so they’ll be warm for you.”

George turned his head to his littlest sister, completely ignoring Harry as he raised his hand and ask for a high five, something that the baby had just learned to do a couple weeks prior so it was still exciting for everyone.

Meanwhile, Eleanor tensed. She immediately looked at you and you could see fear crossed her face. She whimpered for you again. She raised her hands, asking for you to pick her up.

“Hey, hey, you’re alright.” You rubbed her cheek and tried to calm her down without picking her up because she wasn’t done yet.

But her little body trembled in fear and she yelled “no!” repeatedly as Harry walked closer to the tub. Her yell got louder with each step that Harry took towards her. You could see her breath getting heavier before you fully noticed that she was hyperventilating.

“Harry, get out!” You yelled at your husband when you realised that your three year old wasn’t just throwing a tantrum, she was having a panic attack. Harry ran out of the room like a bat out of hell and you quickly took her out of the tub before wrapping her in the towel and brought her close to your chest. You kept whispering “mummy’s here,” in her ear to help her to calm down, which thankfully she did within minutes, but that was without a doubt still the scariest three minutes of your life.

After Eleanor had calmed down, you drained the water in the tub and quickly rinsed off your other children before herding them back to the nursery. When you were back, you found their PJs and blankets piled on George’s bed. The warm PJs reminded you how much Harry truly loved your babies and that’s the kind of father he is. He’s the kind of father who pays attention to the littlest detail that doesn’t even cross your mind sometimes, like warming up their pyjamas and blanket and triple checking their shoes to make sure that they’re wide enough not to crush their pinky toes. He never forgets to make sure that there are no monsters under the kids’ bed every night after he kisses them goodnight. He always makes sure that the baby’s nighttime soother, the one that glows in the dark, is clean before bedtime. You swore that the amount of dummy your baby has cost you could pay a small country’s debt, so it never really matters to you which one she uses but Harry thought the one that glows in the dark would be easier for her to find it in the middle of the night.

After you put their lotion and put their PJs on, you read them stories on George’s bed and tucked the big kids into their own bed. You cuddled Eleanor extra tight before you kissed her goodnight.

When you exit the nursery, you found Harry sat on the floor outside of their door. His back leaning against the wall, his head hung low. He jumped up when he saw you, you could see clear as day the sadness that clouded his features and you couldn’t help but feel bad for him.

“How is she?” he asked. You had known the man in front of you for a little over eight years and you could count with your fingers how many times you had seen him cry. He was never the one to wear his heart on his sleeve, so you were quite surprised when you saw that his eyes were glistening with tears.

“She’s alright now.” You mumbled as you walked towards the baby’s nursery with your littlest on your hip.

“Can I put her down?” He murmured before he went on. “Please?”

As much as you wanted to whack him one in that moment, you also knew that you couldn’t say no to that. After what happened he just needed his baby. “Sure, but she needs to nurse first.”

“I’ll wait for you to finish.”

***

Harry furrowed his brows when he entered your bedroom and found it empty, but then sighed in relief when he heard the sound of hairdryer from the ensuite. On any other day he would just waltz in without even thinking twice, but this time he knew he better wait for you to finish.

His heart thumped loudly when the ensuite door was opened and you appeared from behind it. When you walked into the bedroom, it was the first time both of you being in the same room after your fight earlier. The tension was so thick it was suffocating.

Harry hated the silence because he knew it wasn’t the good kind of silence. Both of you quickly learnt early in your relationship that silence isn’t always a bad thing, so you quit trying to always fill the quiet gap and embrace the silence. You loved knowing that you were comfortable enough with each other to just sat together without the pressure of having to entertain one another.

But this silence was nowhere like that. Harry felt like he could cut the tension with a knife. You could feel his eyes glued on your every move, staring at you intensely as you took a clean white nightdress from the wardrobe and slip into it. Your creams were left untouched on your dressing table, you simply couldn’t be arsed to put them on, knowing you would just mess it up anyway with Harry staring at you like that. You knew that he was desperately trying to come up with something to say. You caught him from the corner of your eyes opening his mouth like he was about to say something but he quickly sealed his lips tight again. It was when you took your pillow and began walking towards the door that he finally said something.

“Where are you going?” He rushed to stop you from going towards the door. You were certain that he knew exactly where you were going but you answered him anyway.

“Spare room.” You replied coldly.

He shook his head. “Absolutely not. You’re sleeping here tonight, with me. Not once in nearly nine years we’ve ever slept apart under the same roof.”

“I can’t stand you right now.” You could feel your expression hardened and you began to get frustrated at your husband who just wouldn’t let you go. To be honest, you were doing him a favour there, because if you slept with him on the same bed you were almost certain that you would kick him off the bed at some point in the middle of the night.

“I’ll sleep on the floor. Just… please, don’t leave this room. I’m sorry for everything I said.” He pleaded.

You looked down, twisting the wedding band on your finger instead of looking at him because you knew the second you looked into his eyes, you wouldn’t be able to stand your ground. “I can’t do this anymore, Harry.”

Harry felt as if someone just knocked the air out of his lungs. That was the five words that he never thought would hear from you. “W- what?” He choked a response.

You went on. “It really pains me to say this but I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t think I’m worth it.”

“Love, don’t say that.” He begged you to stop. He couldn’t hear more of that coming from you.

“No, don’t love me and I will say whatever the fuck I want to say.” It’s rare for you to curse so when you do, he knows that you’re really upset.

“You know it isn’t true.” He spoke lowly. “I didn’t mean anything I said.”

You seethed. “No, I don’t know. I hope it isn’t but I can’t shake the thought that it might be true. The way you said it, it was just very conv-”

Harry cut you off. “It isn’t true. Please don’t let that idea get into your head. I was a complete twat, I didn’t even know what I said. M’sorry.”

You still refused to look up into his eyes, not only you knew it would melt your heart in a second, but you also did it out of pettiness because you knew how much he hated it when someone didn’t look at him in the eyes when they were talking to him.

“Love, say something.” He pleaded again. The silence was killing him and he couldn’t bear it anymore.

“What d’you want me t’say?” Your tone was flat and it sounded cold but he was glad you still at least spoke to him.

“You’re not leaving me, are you?” You were still upset at him, but you couldn’t ignore the pang in your chest at the vulnerability of his tone.

You sighed. “No, but I’m fuming at you right now.”

“I know, I was horrible. M’surprised you haven’t put me in the bin yet.”

Your brows snapped together. “That’s not funny, I’m really pissed.”

“M’sorry.” He apologised again. “Got panicked for a second when you hadn’t come home around seven. I thought you left.”

Knowing that he wouldn’t let you sleep in the guest room, you turned around and walked towards your side of the bed, placing the pillow that you’d been holding back to where it belonged. “Went for dinner.”

“Where did you go?” He asked. You knew that he was trying to make a small conversation, hoping it would distract you and made you forgot that you were pissed at him because most of the time it worked. “I made lasagna. Even put extra cheese because I know the kids love it.”

“Tha’ pizza place in High Street.”

He mused. “Oh, tha’s really nice. They’ve got the best pizza.”

You didn’t reply. You turned your back and closed your eyes whilst he took a pillow and placing it on the hardwood floor. “Night, love.” He mumbled before he closed his eyes. He was dying to give you a proper goodnight kiss but he knew you wouldn’t like that. Not in that moment at least.

***

“Ow, ow ow ow. Ow…. ow ow,”

The sound of your husband groaning in pain woke you up from your deep slumber. You tried to close your eyes again to go back to sleep but it didn’t work, so you sat up and looked down at him. “What’s wrong with you?” You sounded a little annoyed.

“I can’t get up. M’back hurts.”

You tried not to laugh at the sight of him wiggling around the hardwood floor and moaning in pain with his every move. “Come up here and get tha’,” you tilted your head towards his bedside table, referring to the bottle of almond oil in the drawer that you usually use for massage.

The thought of getting a back rub was enough to motivate him to hold onto the bed and finally pulled himself up. He opened the drawer and blindly looked for the bottle and took it out and put it on the bed when he found it.

“No, not the lube you prat!” You scolded him. “The oil!”

“Sorry sorry! Didn’t see it. It hurts.” He moaned again as he looked for the right bottle.

You mumbled, trying to bit your lips to keep yourself from laughing. “Such a baby.”

When he finally found the right bottle, he got up and sat on his side of the bed before laying down on his stomach. “If this doesn’t prove my love for you I don’t know what will.”

“Shut up, m’still ticked at you.” You deadpanned.

He let out a moan, a good moan this time, but not that kind of moan when you began rubbing his back. “I was going mad when you left with the kids yesterday.” He started.

You furrowed your brows. “We left for three hours.”

“Felt like there was half an arrow in my chest.” He went on.

You tried to stifle your chuckle. “Did you just quote your own song?”

“Oh shoot, you still remember. But s’true.” He replied.

“Course I remember,”

“Tha’ was your jam, wasn’t it? 15 year old you must be so cute singing around to tha’.” He was bashful and you loved the shift in the mood.

“Ha. You wish.” He was right but there was no way you would admit that. Absolutely not.

“Oh no, I know your favourite. T’was the other one, hold on-” he hissed as he took a second to think. “Ah, Through The Dark! Oh I will carry you over, fire and water for your love.” He began singing.

“Yeah, go on, keep taking the piss. Tha’ really helps me to dissolve my anger towards you.”

He ignored your comment and kept on singing. “And I will hold you closer hope your heart is strong enough.”

You tried to control the 15 year old girl inside of you who wanted nothing more than just to scream because who would’ve known that even after three babies later with one of the singers, the song still had that effect on you.

He reached for your arm and pulled it down. You squealed as you fell on your stomach next to him.

“I love you,” he blinked. “M’completely besotted. Absolutely enamoured. Hopelessly in love wi’ you. Best thing tha’ ever ‘appened t’me, yeh are. T’is Harry talking, your husband, so y’av to believe me. The pillock yesterday wasn’t Harry.”

“Oh, was tha’ Henry?” You joked.

“Thought Henry was m’cock’s name?”

“Exactly.”

“You’re right. The bloke yesterday was a cock.” You cackled and he continued. “M’sorry for what I said about Eleanor too. I’m disgusted at myself. Can’t believe I said those words about m’own baby girl. I don’t deserve her, I’m a shit father.”

“You were a shit father yesterday, but you’re a great father any other day, H. Always have been.” You affirmed him.

“You’re just saying that cause y’av to.”

You shook your head. “No I don’t. If you’re a shit father rest assured I’ll tell you that on your face. But you’re not, I’m telling you the truth. Just please don’t ever take it out on the kids and I again if you’re stressed or frustrated with work.”

“I promise. I’m sorry.” He apologised again.

“You need to apologise to them.” You reminded him and he nodded.

“I will. Absolutely. I’ll try to make it up to them today.”

***

George and Eleanor ignored Harry all morning. Thankfully Eleanor was better, she didn’t want to talk to Harry but at least she didn’t freak out whenever he was close. Harry tried to get on their good side by offering toast and nutella for breakfast, which rarely happens in your house because you don’t normally allow chocolate for breakfast. They munched on their toast happily but they didn’t say a word to Harry except a simple “thank you” when he handed them their plates. You chuckled because they might be pissed but they were still polite.

After breakfast, you put on some Sunday morning cartoon in the living room for the kids. You were sat on the sofa, sandwiched between your two babies whilst Harry sat on the armchair with your littlest on his lap playing with his wedding band because George and Eleanor didn’t let him sit on the sofa.

“My loves, do you wanna make some choquettes for snack later?” Harry asked the kids when Fireman Sam finished on the telly. George shook his head but Eleanor completely ignored him.

“Daddy’s asking you a question, poppet.” You turned to your little girl. “S’not very nice to ignore someone when they’re talking to you, is it?”

She mumbled. “No, thank you.”

“Alright.” Harry sighed. “I’ll make them for you, I know how much you like it.”

Harry stood up and placed the baby on your lap before he went to the kitchen to make the kids’ favourite pastry. Cooking had never been his forte but you knew your husband could bake even though he only worked as a cashier in a bakery years ago.

The kids still pretty much ignored him during lunch and you could tell that Harry was getting a little frustrated. He tried everything but the kids hadn’t warmed up to him just yet. They’d been glued to you nearly all day so you knew you had to leave for at least an hour so they could warm up to Harry. You took the opportunity to leave when they were napping so they, especially Eleanor, wouldn’t throw a fit when you left. You needed to go shopping anyway because now that it was getting warmer, you needed to get some new spring clothes for the kids and your littlest baby had outgrown most of her onesies and bodysuits.

Again, Eleanor was the first to wake up from her nap and she immediately went looking for you but when she went down, she only saw Harry in the living room with his laptop on his lap. Harry smiled at her as soon as he saw her.

“Ello, poppet. Did yeh av a nice nap?” He greeted her. The little girl hesitated a bit before she walked into the living room, which took Harry by surprise because he was almost sure that she would just run back upstairs.

The three year old nodded before climbing up onto the sofa and plopped herself down next to her daddy. Harry wrapped his arm around her instantly and brought her to his lap after he put his laptop away. “Daddy’s really sorry, poppet. I didn’t mean to scare you yesterday. I was very mean, wasn’t I?”

She nodded again. “You weren’t nice, daddy. You need a time out.”

“A time out?” Harry chuckled.

“Uh uh.” She insisted. “Y’need to sit on the stairs.”

The last step on the stairs had always been the designated spot for a time out for the kids whenever they’re being cheeky in your home. If they don’t listen to you or Harry or if they fight too much they’d have to sit there for three minutes. Harry never knew that would come to bit him in the arse.

“Alrigh’,” Harry agreed. “But will yeh forgive me when I’m done?”

She nodded vigorously. “Of course! But three minutes, daddy.” She held up three of her fingers.

So Harry sat there on the last step of the stairs whilst Eleanor stood in front of him, holding his phone as she waited for the timer to went off. Before Harry finished his time out, George appeared from the top of the stairs.

“George! M’puttin’ daddy on time out!” Eleanor squealed excitedly, making Harry chuckled. “No, don’t laugh, daddy! S’not funny. Y’need to think about what you did.”

Harry bit on his lips trying not to laugh at his little girl’s stern face. She might be a carbon copy of himself but goodness she did sound like you. “M’sorry, m’sorry.”

“We don’t yell, daddy. S’not nice.” George chimed in.

“I know. M’really sorry.” Harry apologised again and the timer went off.

“Time’s up!” Eleanor shrieked. “Y’can get up now, daddy!”

“Can I get a hug?” Harry opened his arms wide for his babies.

“That depends, daddy. Can I get some choquettes?” George gave him a cheeky smile and Harry nodded.

“Wha’ a cheeky lad!” Harry squeezed him tight before pulling Eleanor closer to his chest to wrap her into a hug as well.

***

Eleanor and George were glued to Harry for the rest of the day, even after you and the baby got home. They were his sous-chef when he prepared dinner and insisted for Harry to bathe them. After you put your littlest to bed, you peeked inside Eleanor and George’s nursery and saw Harry sandwiched between his babies on George’s big boy bed. You could see the pile of books on the floor and you were certain he read them not less than ten books. You could feel your eyes welled up as you listened to the things Harry was telling your babies.

“Daddy loves you so much, both of you. I’m so grateful that you are my son and that you are my daughter. You both make me and mummy SO happy. You’re a good boy and you’re a good girl and you’re the best big siblings for your baby sister. You two are smart and funny and kind and I wouldn’t want anyone else to replace you. You make mummy and I very proud every day.”

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speckofglitter · 5 years

Text

get it together - kny

→ word count ; 1.3k

→ genre ; fluff | angst if you squint ??

→ pairings ; artistl!yoshinori x artistl!y/n

everything is an art form. yet you always seemed to have the wrong paintbrushes or a shaky hand.

yoshinori is lying on his bed, watching you paint. he's admiring you, eyebrows furrowed and tongue poking out as you try to mix the right shades together. you've been working on this painting for the past 3 hours and it still doesn't look quite right. you step away from your canvas, observing it at a different angle before giving up.

you sigh, settling down onto the bed next to yoshinori as he gives you an encouraging smile.

'i'm tired.' you sigh out.

'then let's sleep.'

'yoshi?' you mutter.

'hmm?' he responds.

'can you give me a goodnight kiss?' you plead. he widens his eyes in disbelief, making you laugh out loud.

'fine.' he moves closer, placing a quick kiss on your cheek before licking your cheek and running away.

'argh yoshi that's disgusting!' you yell out, running after him.

yoshinori is your best friend and lifeline. he's the only one keeping you sane. you rant to him about your struggles as an art student, the exorbitant prices of art supplies and about how much your art teacher absolutely hates your guts. you sleep over at his apartment anytime you have a big assignment due. he keeps you calm. you still remember the day you met him. you were in the campus art studio, having a panic attack. you looked like a shell of a human being, shoulders hunched over as you cried over your sketchbook. yoshinori had walked in, choosing to sit beside you, softly stroking your hair as you cried and explained your frustrations. if he hadn't been there you probably would have ended up breaking your expensive crayons and brushes in half. he was so approachable and warm. you supposed there were no strangers in yoshinori's world, only new friends. you two quickly became inseparable after that day.

you wake up to an amazing smell. yoshinori's side of the bed is empty so you look around, trying to find him. he always makes your favorite nutella pancakes when you sleep over. it's become a tradition.

'come in.' he says, turning around to find you peeking from behind the kitchen door.

'good morning, thanks for the breakfast.' you smile, giving him a quick hug as he flips another pancake. his hair is still slightly damp from his shower, the smell of his cotton candy shampoo engulfing you.

you settle down onto the table, scrolling through your instagram feed as yoshinori finishes making the pancakes.

'yoshi, do you think i can make it as an artist?' you ask in between bites.

yoshinori looks at you, stunned by your sudden question. you take a huge bite of pancake, nervously waiting for his answer.

'i know you will.' he answers after a moment.

'you do know mr. clent hates me right? i haven't gotten a single grade above a B this whole semester...' you whisper.

'it's not always about the grades, especially in a creative field. when i see your art, i feel like it's going to jump off the canvas and come alive. your art tells stories that no one else can tell. that's your weapon.' he explains.

he smiles at you and it's that smile. the smile that makes you feel like all of your dreams can come true and everything will be okay. you stuff another bite of pancake in your mouth, desperately trying to ignore the way your heart is pounding inside your chest.

'you're a really good talker mr. kanemoto' you shake your head, trying to hide your smile.

after a quick shower, you're back to painting. a weak stream of light peers through the small window in yoshinori's room, making you look angelic.

you hear beeping and turn around to see yoshinori on his phone texting. sometimes, you wished yoshinori wasn't so popular. he wasn't only liked by students, he was also mr. clent's favorite student. the promising art prodigy. whenever there was an art exhibition, girls would flock to his side. they would ask irrelevant questions about his artworks, mostly interested in the way he would sip white wine and arch his perfect eyebrows as he talked about technique and color theory. surprisingly, he never worked on his drawings in front of you. he probably didn't want you to have a mental breakdown over how talented he was compared to you. you turn back around, painting more aggressively this time.

is it normal to feel slightly envious?

'wanna get some coffee?' he asks.

'yes please, i feel like i'm going to go insane if i see one more speck of gold' you laugh, grabbing your cardigan from his chair.

you walk towards the campus café, noticing the cold breeze as you wonder how yoshinori can wear ripped jeans in this weather.

yoshinori rests his hand on his chin, staring at you with an endearing look. you're ranting about yet another annoying professor as he swirls his straw around, taking frequent sips of his matcha latte. you talk with your hands, bright eyes twinkling as you get to the key point in your story.

yoshinori thinks about how fitting your drink choice is, a caramel macchiato. you pretend to be a bitter artist yet deep down you're the sweetest person he has ever met. you're always frustrated because you run on hope. hope that the world would be a little better, a little kinder. he memorizes the way your lips purse as you take a sip, planning to make you his next project. for him, it came easily. the lines and the shapes came together in his head as soon as he saw you.

summer is settling in and you no longer have to worry about strict professors and artist statements. it's 9pm when you burst into yoshinori's apartment, a tiny bottle of red wine in your front jean pocket. yoshinori doesn't bother asking questions as he lets you in.

'you know that guy i went on a date with last week? i can't believe that jerk ghosted me.. you know what? fuck him he looked like a noodle anyways.' you yell out, walking past yoshinori to sprawl yourself onto his couch. yoshinori chuckles to himself, watching you drink straight out of the tiny red wine bottle. even during rough times you absolutely refused to drink hard liquor.

you notice that yoshinori is drying his hair with a fluffy looking pink towel as he sits next to you. you try not to stare but he looks really, really good.

'not to put you down when you're having a rough time but could you take some of your skincare products home? your 13 bottles of rosewater and clay masks are taking up all the counter space in my bathroom.' he says, running a hand through his damp hair.

'fine. guess i'll just be bae-less and ugly.' you scoff, placing your legs over his.

'you're neither of those,' he whispers.

'what did you just say?' you raise an eyebrow.

he freezes, pink towel in hand as he realizes his mistake.

'i said... you're neither of those. you're beautiful y/n, i've told you that countless time.' voice not coming out nearly as steady as he would have hoped.

'yeah but i'm still bae-less' you whine.

'i could be your bae...' he mutters.

you picked a horrible time to take a swig of wine because the moment yoshinori says that you spit a mouthful of red wine right into his face.

'oh my god i'm so so sorry' you say as you grab the pink towel in his hands, dabbing onto his skin. you didn't realize you were so close until yoshinori places his hand above yours, taking the towel before kissing you softly. he hooks his hands around the back of your thighs as you wrap your legs tightly around his torso. your palms splay across his chest, pressing into him. you taste a little bitter and a little sour from the wine but yoshinori doesn't mind. you let out a small whine of protest as your lips separate.

'i can't do this anymore. i can't pretend not to be into you anymore.'

'i like you too yoshi.... we could be together but you know... i should really to get my shit together before i try to be in a relationship...' you mumble.

'i don't need you to get your shit together y/n. but if you need help, i'll always be here for you. as your friend or as your bae. you call the shots.' he winked.

you thought it over for a few days, isolating yourself in your room as you survived on cubes of cheese. yoshinori was beginning to think he had made a huge mistake by confessing to you. maybe you just weren't ready.

yoshinori had always been there for you, a little too generous if you were honest. you weren't scared of him breaking your heart. you were scared that one day he would wake up and realize he could do better. knowing him, he would probably break it to you in the kindest way possible. your mind wandered back to the first day you met him. if he wasn't ready to be in your life, he wouldn't have sat and comforted you for hours. he wouldn't put so much time and effort into making you pancakes every time you were at his apartment. he wouldn't have been the one and only person who motivated you as an artist.

you suddenly get up, putting on your sneakers as you rush to your kitchen cabinet, grabbing a bottle of vodka. you had never run so fast in your entire life. by the time yoshinori opens the door, you're out of breath and glowing with sweat.

'what are you doing here?' he questions.

'you said i could call the shots so i'm here.' you say, walking past him and into his kitchen as you look for shot glasses.

'let's cheers to us, being baes or whatever the kids say these days' you laugh, pouring him a shot.

as yoshinori watches you down your shot, he silently thanks whatever or whoever guided him to the art room on that day.

masterlist - requests are open !! - ya girl tiyi ❤️

#ygtb #treasure #magnum #treasure 13 #treasure 13 scenarios #magnum scenarios #yg entertainment #yg artist scenarios #kanemoto yoshinori #kpop fluff #kpop au #kpop scenarios #yg treasure box scenarios

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