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colormepurplex2 · 1 year

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Make You Mine | Purple Silk

↳ Alpha Jungkook x Omega f.Reader ⤜ Enemies/Lovers ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 3,544 ⚠️ Angst, Omega presenting, mostly plot and setting the scene

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"How many times are you going to bring up the eastern territory lines? My answer is still no." Roland, your pack leader, crosses his muscle-banded arms across his chest. "We have enough trouble from the Jeons without trying to shift the claim lines again. I don't care what that musty old map shows, we keep to this side of the river and that's that."

You clamp your mouth shut, fighting the urge to argue again. Are all alpha's this ignorant or just the one leading your pack? You snuff out that thought before it can be read on your face. It's not fair that the Jeon family keeps pushing their claim further onto your family's land. Over the last five years, they've taken almost 100 acres along the river and Roland doesn't seem to give a shit. It makes you hot under the collar.

"Sir, can we move on to the import tariffs from the north? They're increasing again, the fields haven't been producing the way they should so we're relying more on those goods," your father, a well-to-do beta and Rolands second, speaks up from where he's seated across from you at the large oak conference table. It makes your stomach sour how they can move on so quickly from such an important topic. Sweat pops up along your brow, you scrub it away and sneer at the shine on the back of your hand. The leather jacket you're wearing slides quickly down your arms as you shrug out of it.

"Aye, so the reports say." Roland nods then unwinds his large arms to gesture to the man seated beside your father. "Lou, what's going on in the fields?"

Louis, beta and second to your father, shuffles some papers on the table in front of him. "It's not good, Ro. We think the soils are not turning over the way they should. Not enough water coming up through the ground well. It could take us another season, maybe two, before we can get it back to where we need it to produce for the family." By family, he means your pack. It's not really a family like some would think. It's not a set of parents and their children. It's more like several of those kinds of family units joined together. You're not all blood-related, nor even by marriage for that matter. Family, as you know it, is a choice.

You're part of Roland's family because your great-great-grandfather joined Roland's great grandfather's pack. The only reason you'd ever leave the family is if you were cast out or if by some miracle you find a soulmate. That idea makes you snort to yourself. Yeah, right. Already approaching your late twenties, you're starting to consider maybe you're just a really fucked up anomaly when it comes to designations. Most of your kind present just into their early twenties. It's unheard of for someone your age to not know where they fit in the hierarchy. Even if you were to present tomorrow, not everyone gets a soulmate, you have to be extra special for that. No, you're pretty sure that's off the table for you. Speaking of table...

"-this time next year, if we're lucky it won't be th-" Lou is speaking again, explaining to Roland the best process to roll over the vegetable fields.

The smack of your palm hitting the polished wood surface of the table cuts him off. You're not normally this hostile, but this is just an itch you can't seem to scratch. All eyes go to you, narrowing. You know you're being a bit hot-headed, but honestly, why can't they just fucking listen to you? You ask as much. "Why can't you see the obvious fix to this issue?" You lurch out of your chair, the back of your knees knocking it so hard it almost topples. "That land, the land you refuse to acknowledge as being taken from us, is fertile. We grew plenty there before the Jeon's snatched it up. It's close enough to the river that the irrigation possibilities alone would make it worth it. Stop being such a...a-...being such a..." You swallow hard, throat suddenly parched. Black spots pop up in your vision, the maps go out of focus before you on the table. "If you wo-would j-jus-st," the words slur from your mouth.

Why is it so hot in here? You tug at the collar of your shirt, willing some air past the fabric to cool your heated skin. A hand clamps hard on your shoulder, a blurred face looms before yours. You can faintly hear your name being called, sounding miles away. Words, drifting in and out like they're caught in a swirling wind, come just close enough that you can snatch a few here and there.

Okay?

Towel

Ice

Presenting

No. This can't be happening right now. You shake your head sharply from side to side to dispel the absurdity, but it only proves to worsen the ache settling behind your eyes. There isn't enough oxygen in the room, your lungs don't want to fully expand. You're hyperventilating. "Hot," you manage to croak out, staggering back from the hand on your shoulder. The last thing you want is to be touched right now. Everything burns. Somehow you've ended up on your knees, clutching your head in your hands.

"Sweetie," the voice of your mother is like aloe against the pain. "Shh," she coos softly.

"Mom," you whimper, dropping your hands and trying to lift your head to seek her out.

She's kneeling beside you, her graying hair spilling over her shoulder as she leans forward. "It's okay, sweetie, it'll pass soon." You reach out trembling hands, needing her comfort. "Not right now, we have to wait for it to pass," she murmurs brokenly. Part of her aches with you, knowing what you're experiencing. Presenting for a female is different than it is for a male. Biology, always giving someone the short end of the stick. "Just lay down, like that, good." Her constant praise and gentle words keep you grounded.

You slump down onto the cool tile floor of the conference room. Your shirt clings to you, sweat-soaked and uncomfortable. "Hurts," you whine. Everything hurts. You roll onto your side, curling in on yourself. Everything in your abdomen cramps up, a powerful force that makes you whimper low in your throat.

"Here, the ice and towel," it's the voice of your dad. He sounds so concerned, you want to go to him, tell him it's okay. Another wave of nausea steals your breath before you can even begin to form words of comfort.

A sudden coolness is pressed to your brow. The smallest bit of relief in the inferno that is consuming you. "Why is it taking so long?" The voice of your pack alpha is brisk, borderline brutish, and laced with...something, something new, something you've never heard before.

"Ro, sometimes these things take time. There's never been someone presenting as late as she is, it could just be her body working harder to adjust." Again, your mother's words soothe you. Your mother is what many would call a den mother of sorts. She takes care of everyone. Though she isn't an alpha, she sure as hell can act like it sometimes, commanding those around her with just a look. Even Roland won't challenge your mother most of the time. Usually, it's the pack omega's place to be in charge like that. However, after Roland's wife and soulmate, your family's most recent pack omega, passed away a few years ago, your mother fell into the role until another alpha, and their soulmate, take Roland's place.

"What's that smell?" Louis sniffs the air, wrinkling his nose. "It's way too sweet."

A low rumble sounds from Roland, making you flinch. The burning starts to ease, cramps dissipate slowly. Your muscles and arms continue to tremble as you stretch out onto your back. The lights overhead are bright, you have to blink several times before you can keep your eyes open and assess your situation.

"Mom?" You test your tongue against your teeth, prodding at your now slightly elongated canines. "What happened?"

Your mom's beautiful face comes into view, blocking out the blinding lights overhead. "Oh! My sweet, beautiful daughter." She places a cool palm against your cheek and thumbs away a tear you didn't know was there. "It finally happened, sweetie, you presented." There are tears glistening in her eyes, a brilliant smile forms on her lips.

"I did?" You ask hesitantly. She helps you sit up, careful that you don't move too quickly and get dizzy.

"You did, princess," your father's voice is rough, full of emotion. He hasn't called you princess since you were a kid.

There are odd smells in the air. You scrub at your nose with the end of your shirtsleeve. The smells make your nose burn, like walking into a candle shop during the holidays, it's overwhelming.

"What does...?" You trail off, not sure how to ask. Shouldn't you know? You'd think your body would be able to tell you what you are. But, right now, your body just seems confused. There is too much going on around you. The smells, the bright lights, the subtle shift in the air that makes the fine hair along your arms stand up.

Roland steps into your view. He looks so much bigger now for some reason. It must be because you're sitting on the floor at his feet. His dark eyes stare into yours and you know he's measuring your worth. For a moment you think he might hit you, his fists clench at his sides, you hear the faint creak of leather as his shoulders bunch beneath his vest. You're waiting for him to speak, maybe offer something, a crumb of explanation but all he does is glance at your father and shake his head before swiftly exiting the conference room.

You're confused even more now. You look to your mother and open your mouth to ask but she just holds up a hand to silence you. "Roland was just trying to see whether or not you could be...well, whether or not...Mari..." You blanch, eyes going wide at the mention of Roland's late soulmate. Why in the hell would he think you have anything to do with Mari? Your mother quickly continues, "It's just that, well, sweetie, you've presented as omega."

You think you might pass out.

🌘🌗🌕🌓🌒

"Mom, can we not make a big deal about this?" You grumble as she grabs another giant, fluffy ball gown from the rack on the wall.

She turns a cool eye on you. "This is a right of passage," she doesn't snap at you, but you can tell her patients with your increasing distress over everything is wearing thin. "I don't care how old you are. Even if you were fifty, I'd still be dressing you in silk and parading you around the flaming estate for all to see. Now, I don't want to hear another word of protest about it."

It's been a week since you presented as...omega. You still cringe thinking about it. It's not that you don't want to be an omega, you're just not sure why everyone keeps treating you like you're made of glass now. You know Omegas are rare, even more rare than an Alpha. But, it's bad enough you feel like every alpha in your family wrinkles their nose at you, saying you smell kind of funny. They don't smell so great themselves. You just wish they would treat you the same as before.

Your dad explained that because omegas are the only designation an alpha can be truly mated with, we're talking soulmate level bonding, all the alphas in your family have been trying to determine whether your scent matches theirs. It doesn't. The way you smell puts them on edge, their alpha knows you're an omega and they also know that either your true mate hasn't been born yet (maybe never will) or they're part of another family. That last possibility doesn't make anyone happy.

You puff out your cheeks and follow behind your mom as she grabs a few more gowns. She's reserved the entire shop for the whole day, just so you could spend several hours being poked and prodded by the seamstress, to find the perfect gown for your designation celebration.

"I'm sorry I'm being a bit of a mood-killer, mom. It's all just so much already. Everyone is treating me differently and none of my friends seem to want anything to do with me anymore."

Her eyes soften, full of knowing. "Aww, sweetie, I know it's not easy. You just have to understand, being omega means things are going to be different. Granted, I don't know from personal experience, but you know how close Mari and I were. You'd have thought we were weened on the same teet," she chuckles brightly, remembering her best friend, "she confided in me just how demanding it was to be omega. Now, I'm not trying to scare you or anything, but you need to understand that nothing is going to be the same for you moving forward. People are going to look at you differently, they might be wary of you at first, but eventually, that wariness turns into reverence and respect. You're part of the hierarchy now, but a rare part that many could go their entire lives without encountering. So, of course, they're going to treat you a little differently at first. It's lucky that our family has experience with omegas, Mari is a fresh memory for us all."

You get it, you really do, but that doesn't make it any easier. Mari always seemed happy, even after she fell ill, she was quick with a smile and comforting words for any who needed it. "Thanks, mom." You smile but it doesn't quite reach your eyes. Perhaps, all it will take is some time. Time for everyone to adjust.

"Come on, let's get you to try these gowns on. Jules said she'll need at least a week for any alterations and we don't have much more time than that before the full moon. Lots of work to do!" You can't help but smile as your mother continues to chatter about the preparations for your designation celebration. You'd endure this a thousand times over just to see her bright eyes and smile. It's not like your parents will get this experience again. You're their only child, quite uncommon, but your mom had a rough time getting pregnant and an even tougher time being pregnant. No, you can't keep being a stick in the mud over this party, your mom and dad deserve better than that.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of satins and silks. The gown you and your mother finally decide on is exquisite and you're honestly, if a bit surprisingly, looking forward to wearing it. The plunging neckline accentuates your full breast, the tapered waist gives a nice defining line to the swell of your hips. It's rich, violet silk that shifts to darker tones of indigo under the lights. It's floor length with a slit that hits you mid-thigh on one side. The back of the gown is one large panel of intricate, dainty lace with iridescent moon opal accents sewn in the shape of a giant crescent moon in the center of the back. The shiny stones match the moon opal necklace and earrings your mother passed down to you on your eighteenth birthday. They were gifted to her by her mother when she presented. The silver heels that peek out from beneath the hem complete the look perfectly. Your hair is pinned perfectly with thick curling tendrils cascading just so.

The full moon arrives before you know it, the preparations for your party continued right up until just an hour ago when your mother shooed you away upstairs to begin getting ready. Roland is hosting your party, his lavish and extensive home the apex of your pack's land. The sprawling mansion has been in the family for many generations, each new alpha adding his own flair. A man of few words and fewer niceties, Roland begrudgingly allowed your mother to redecorate the bottom floor of his home for tonight. There are beautiful strands of garland wrapping around banisters, beautiful and exotic rugs covering the white marble floors, and flickering candles blaze on every available surface. It's to be a grand affair, one your family will be known for, for years to come.

"You look beautiful," your father states softly. The tender look in his eye makes your heart ache. There is pride shining there, pride in seeing his little girl all grown up, despite being well into your twenties. That's a fact you've tried to remind him of the last few days. Each time he just waves a hand in the air, dismissively, and proclaims you'll never be too old to be his little girl.

There is a swift knock at the door that draws your attention. Before you can move to open it, the door swings open to reveal Roland. He's dressed in a smart suit, charcoal gray with subtle black pinstripes and a white collared shirt. "The Jeons. Really?"

"Now, Ro, let's not get heated over this," your dad begins, stepping around you.

The alpha huffs a low growl. "You expect me to not get heated over them being invited into my house?"

"Dad, what is he talking about? Ro," you turn to your pack leader, "what are you talking about?"

Roland's eyes drift from your father to you. "Apparently, it seems your parents have decided to invite everyone to your designation party. Everyone."

Your eyes flash, heat rises under your skin. "I'm sorry," you turn to your father, hands going onto your hips, "you did what?!"

Your father puffs up his chest, meeting both your and Roland's challenges glares. "She's presented as omega, Roland. You know as well as I do, that means everyone gets invited. Bad blood and feuds are put to bed for the night and we all grit our teeth, plaster on a smile, and celebrate."

You want nothing more than to scream. The last thing you need tonight is seeing any of those smug, land stealing assholes. Five years ago the youngest Jeon presented as alpha and took over their family. He's the one that pushed their borders, he's the one that took land from your family...and now he's going to be showing up at your party. That scream demands to be released. "I need a minute," you grate out between your clenched teeth.

Your dad at least has the graces to give you an apologetic look. "Okay, honey, but don't be too long. Guests are already arriving downstairs. I'll send your mother up in a few."

Your stomach is in knots. You knew for an omegas designation celebration that it's customary to invite all packs. It's a night for rejoicing, a night for true celebration that should put even the worst enemies into good spirits around one another. Your designation is so rare it can bridge the gap between centuries-long blood feuds. If the Jeons are coming then that surely means the Kims, Jungs, Mins, and Parks will be in attendance, too. They're not all of the same family, but they're so close they might as well merge ties. Then, on the other hand, you know the Bartons will be here, too. If there is one centuries-old blood feud that is famous above the rest, it's between the Parks and the Bartons. You're not even really sure why, something about a stolen pack omega some four hundred years ago. Longer than anyone can really remember to get the story right.

The night air is cool as you push open the double doors leading out onto the balcony of your borrowed room. Roland's house is big enough to house many guests when the need arises. This particular room is fairly secluded, overlooking the small rose garden off of the east wing. If you crane your neck and lean out over the railing you can see the lights from the large patio and pool deck. The back doors are wide open, the sound of music faintly carrying to your ears. The patio and giant pergola are draped in twinkling fairy lights. You see bodies moving around, mingling and wonder if any of the figures you see are people you've sworn as your enemy.

You can smell the rose garden below, fragrant even this late in the season. The wind picks up, pulling your hair over your shoulder, the strands tickling along the side of your neck. You take a deep breath to calm yourself. As you fill your lungs with the cool night air you freeze. On the undercurrent of the breath you just inhaled, there is something...something strange. A smell you've never smelled before. You take another large lungful of air, catching the faint scent again. You can't place it. It's heady and intoxicating. You want to stand here and pull in large breaths until you go fuzzy in the head. Whatever it is, it smells delicious.

Before you can take in another tantalizing lungful the door to your room opens. Your mom's light voice breaks through your hazy fog, "it's time, sweetie, let's present you to the world."

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#bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #bts jungkook #bts non idol au #bts abo #jungkook abo #alpha jungkook #omega reader #abo smut #bts knotting #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts enemies to lovers #alpha jungkook x omega reader #jungkook smut #bangtanwritershq

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parkersbliss · 4 years

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Savior | P. Parker

Pairing: Peter Parker X Female Reader aged up, in college

Warnings: (a lot) Depression, insecurity, anxiety attacks, feelings of not being good enough, a hell lot of angst, but it ends with fluff. Swearing. Please don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with any these things as this is a very heavy topic.

wc; 4.5K

Synopsis: You can’t deny your feelings of utter failure anymore and Peter’s scared you won’t let him help you.

Playlist/Song inspiration: MIRRORS by Niall Horan, Little Things by 1D, Perfect Now by Louis Tomlinson and 18 by 1D

A/N: for @cunaeparker’s writing challenge! Also this is solidly based of Mirrors by Niall Horan. Go give it a listen.

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

—

It's a haunting feeling. A constant thought nagging in the back of your head. It never left, just subsided for the day only to come back raging in the night. It was a feeling of sadness, desperation. You want to fight it, but your mask will only hold so long. Peter had watched you walk away, dress bunched in your hands as you weave your way through the mass of bodies. He wants to follow you and make sure you're okay, but he doesn't. He can't. It's not his place. So instead, he turns away, losing you to the crowd and busies himself in talking to someone else. Although his lips are moving, his mind remains on you. You had said it was nothing and you just needed to use the restroom and Peter almost believed you. He wants to believe you're okay, but there's a tugging at his heart that maybe you aren't.

The door softly shuts behind you and you swiftly locks it, ensuring you could be at peace in the room. It's noticeably cooler from the lack of sweaty bodies. You sigh softly, gripping the granite countertop in front of you, watching as your knuckles turn white from your grip. You refuse to look in the mirror, knowing you'll be met with sad eyes and a pathetic excuse of a smile. There's no more fighting it anymore, you let the first sob leave your lips, your body shaking a bit as you tighten your grip on the countertop.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" You cry out, slamming your palms down on the smooth granite, a burning sensation blooming in your palms. You quickly wipe at oncoming tears, roughly dragging your hands down your face. Why couldn't you just feel good for once? One night that's all you wanted, one night where your demons didn't come out, but that wasn't the case.

"Just one night," You whispers to yourself, "one fucking night."

It wasn't much to ask for, just one night where you didn't have to make some pathetic excuse to Peter as to why you had to leave. You knew he was starting to get suspicious, but you couldn't bring herself to tell him. What if he left you? What if he told you that your problems were too much and he didn't need to carry them with him when he was saving the world. You're trying so hard to fight your innermost thoughts, but you're tired and no one's on your side. Your eyes meet the reflection in the mirror and you finally give in, feeling your skin touch the floor as you let it all out. It's a sad sound, a hollow cry in the dark as you bury your face in your hands wondering why you weren't good enough. Your cry bounces off the tile walls, echoing in your eyes and it only makes you sob harder at the broken sounds. You had to be strong. But being strong was so hard when you've fallen this far. You wish someone would hear your cry, as to you the sound was deafening, but the party raged on with no concern for the girl alone in the bathroom.

...

Peter's eyes wander the room, he's looking for you, but there's no trace of the (E/C) eyed girl. It's like you've disappeared from the party entirely, which wouldn't be the first time. But you promised him that you wouldn't do that to him today. You told him you would stay, but then why weren't you here now? Peter wanted you with him tonight because you bring a sort of comfort to him. It's a feeling of being at peace despite being in a room full of heroes. It's about twenty minutes before he finally excuses himself to go find you. He wasn't mad at you, he just wants to spend the night with you. He wants to leave the party and take you home so you two can just sleep. He wants to hold you close in the night and tell you that he loves you, but he can't. He's scared of losing you for his own selfish reasons. Peter signs, running a hand through his chestnut locks, pushing past all the bodies to try and find you. Did you leave him? Were you still in the bathroom? Where even was the bathroom? No, you wouldn't have left. You never ditch him without some reason, even if it was a pathetic one. He should check the bathroom... but what if you think it's creepy? Peter groans before spinning on his heels, he could go for another drink. You would come back, he was sure of it.

...

You're not sure how long you've been in the bathroom, all you know is that your body has stopped shaking, but your heart was breaking. You just want to feel alive again, but these days your life was painted with a dull gray as you struggled to pull yourself out of bed in the mornings. You want to feel your body come alive, filled with excitement at something. You want to be loved, to have someone just hold her in these moments, and tell you it's okay, but your cries go unanswered. Your head falls back against the polished wood of the cabinets, tears slowing to a stop. You're spent as you try to pull yourself together again. Why was this so hard for you? Couldn't you just be happy with once? You want to tell Peter exactly how you feel, have him hold you when your bones are breaking, heart shaking, and whisper nothing but sweet things in her ear.

...

Your coffee's cold. You sit in the small cafe, laptop resting on the table, taunting you with the essay you know you have to write, but your mind is elsewhere. You're more focused on the boy in front of you, golden eyes, and messy chestnut curls. Peter Parker, your best friend since middle school.

"Earth to (Y/N)!" Peter said, hand waving in front of your face. "Hello?"

You shake her head, a few pieces of hair slipping from behind your ear. Peter has to resist the urge to lean across the table and push them back in place.

"Sorry Petey, just thinking. What's up?"

"I was asking if you've been doing okay."

Your heart clenches at the thought of him caring about you, but you know it's not in the way you want him too.

Peter knows a bit about you, not as much as he wants too, but he respects your privacy. He knows enough to be able to figure you out. Like why you sometimes spaced out, or left a party a bit too early, or just wanted to sit alone in your room all day. He gets it, but he can't help but ask if you're really okay. Peter wants to hear you say that you're great with a real smile on your face. Not your normal forced, "'m fine" and crooked grin, but it's not his job to protect you, he wants it to be though. Peter wants nothing more than to hold you close at night and let you cry on his shoulder. He wants to be the one pressing kisses to your forehead and wrapping you both in soft blankets, stuffing your faces with junk food when the world becomes too much to bear.

"'m fine," You said, smile plastered on your face. And Peter sees right through your facade, but he has to remind himself that he's just a friend too you. A friend who so deeply cares about you and is itching to know the truth, but he settles for your coffee dates instead.

"If you say so," Peter replies, looking out the window and onto the busy streets of New York. The skies are blue, something neither of you has seen in a while and it's a fresh reminder that the school year is almost over. However, the streets don't grab his attention for long before he's focusing back on you. This time, you're focusing on the laptop in front of you. Your bottom lip is trapped between your teeth as you try to form a few sentences. Peter watches as your eyebrows pinch together each time you get an idea and how your fingers move flawlessly on the keyboard, a pleasant clicking following. You don't even know you're doing these little things that are driving Peter crazy. He's just studying you, taking in your raw beauty that he hopes you see too. He could stare at you all day and get lost in your (E/C) eyes that reflect the soft lighting of the coffee shop. Or your rosy cheeks, flushed from the heat of the summer. The longer he looks at you the more he sees the small details that make you, you. He's not sure how long he's been staring, but it's not like it matters, he had finished his essay long before it was due, he just wanted to spend time with you.

"Peter," You said, softly.

He snaps out of his daze, moving his hand from the spot under his chin to rest on the table, "Sorry, were you saying something?"

You let out a quiet laugh and Peter swears the butterflies in his stomach are running wild.

"I said, it's almost 7. We have to go."

"Oh," Peter said, glancing at his laptop screen and seeing that it was indeed almost 7. "Right, sorry, I guess I just lost track of time."

"'s okay," You smiled, packing your laptop back into your bag and zipping it up. You pick up your backpack, effortlessly swinging it over your shoulder as you wait for Peter to do the same. You walk out together, talking about your next exam. Peter pushes open the glass door, stepping out of the way to let you pass through, and you thank him. There's a slight breeze that pushes your hair in your face, which you desperately try to push back, only for it to slip out again. There's a heavy silence as you stare at each other, trying to figure out what to say before you part ways. You open your mouth but Peter beats you too it.

"I hope you know, you're beautiful, have you ever been told?"

You're a little shy and you freeze, trying to process what he just told you. You're taken aback and stand there, lips parted. Peter offers you a delicate smile, thinking he probably messed up. "sorry, I just thought you should know. I'll see you around, (Y/N)."

As he walks away, you slowly break a smile. You debate calling out to him, but you don't know what to say. So instead, you whisper a quiet thank you that you hope the wind carries to his ears.

...

You finally pull herself off the floor, but one looks in the mirror and you can feel another wave of pain and remorse wash over you. You cry out, eyes screwed shut as you wills the tears to stop. Peter is out there and you should get back to him, but if Peter cared why hadn't he found you yet? "There's a logical reason for that," You tells yourself. Or maybe he doesn't want to find you. Maybe he's completely forgotten about you and left you alone to cry in the bathroom. Pull yourself together! But you can't, you're trying so hard to just breathe, but you're only falling deeper into the grave you dug yourself. It takes all your strength to look in the mirror and face yourself. There was no way out except up, but when you're this far down how do you get back up? How do you break the surface when you're being weighed down? It's a battle that you know you have to fight and you have to win. You stare yourself down in the mirror, trying hard not to focus on your imperfection and instead, find something good, but there was nothing good. You can't stand the sight of yourself, even when your face wasn't caked with smudged makeup and tear stains. Your eyes are red, nose runny and you sniff, running your hands through your now tangled locks. You think back to the time at the coffee shop. When Peter told you you were beautiful, but as you look in the mirror, you can't find it in yourself to believe that. How could he see you as pretty when there were so many imperfections? Like the way your lips are chapped because you couldn't be bothered to drink enough water. Or how your hair was always tangled and frizzy no matter how many products you used. How could he think you were pretty when the dark bags under your eyes made you look like you'd been punched in the face? There was nothing beautiful about you.

"I have to win," You whispers, "I don't have to be good enough."

But you don't believe yourself. You can't believe something coming from someone so broken, someone who was unlovable. Someone who couldn't feel her own heartbeat in her chest. You didn't even know if you were alive. It didn't feel like you were. Your thoughts are so loud, pounding against your head and you feel like the entire room can hear them. But you remind yourself that no one cared. No one else was here, it's only you.

...

It had only been an hour. One hour of staring at your textbooks, re-reading the same information over and over again. It seemed no matter how many times you read it your brain simply wouldn't retain the information. You were getting more frustrated by the minute. Each second passing by reading the same passage was another second where you should be studying something else. Exams were in a week and you couldn't remember one single thing. You didn't know why it was so hard this time. Maybe it was because of a certain brunette boy sitting across from you. A certain brunette that your mind couldn't seem to forget about. You sigh softly, closing the textbook, deciding maybe you need a little break. But then you look at the clock and it mocks your failure and reminds you that you didn't have time to take a break.

Peter can see you out of the corner of his eyes, he watches as you glance at the clock, then back at your closed textbook before slowly prying it open again. He notes the look of trepidation on your face as your eyes begin to scan the same page again. He had watched you study the same page for an hour, but he didn't say anything. Who was Peter to criticize your study habits? So he lets it go and returns to his book, but only half an hour later he can you sniffling.

You were at your breaking point, but you refused to do so in front of him. you didn't want to be the annoying girl that just starts balling because you couldn't study. No, that wasn't you. You close your eyes, taking in a few shaky breaths, holding back the tears. You need to leave, right now. But if you leave Peter will not something is up and you don't want him to worry about you. He doesn't need to think about that now. You're fine after all. You stand up from the bed, pushing your textbooks to the ground.

"(Y/N)?" Peter questions from the sudden outburst. "Are you okay?"

You nod, lips pursed, "'m fine Petey, just gonna use the bathroom."

Peter's heart sinks as you leave him, he almosts stop you, mouth open, the words on the tip of his tongue, but then you're gone and Peter returns to his studying, not knowing of your true intentions in the bathroom.

You closed the door, locking it and dropping to the floor. You feel the cold from the tile seep into your skin, but you're already cold from the lack of warmth in your life. You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the tears prickle at your lashes and you let them slip. You were trying her to best to suppress the sobs, hoping the wooden door would muffle them enough so Peter didn't hear you. You felt hopeless, wondering why you couldn't control your own emotions or flat out tell Peter, "No I'm not okay and I need you to hold me." You're hiding behind a face nobody knows a face that wouldn't last much longer. Time was running out and you only had so long before someone found out or you break down and lets it all go. One way or another, you couldn't keep this act up for long. You were drowning in a pool of her tears. A pool that had started empty, but now was close to overflowing. For years you had been able to keep it steady, but now it was at the brink of flooding and you couldn't stop it.

Peter had heard you loud and clear. He could hear your soft sobs and he knew you were trying to keep them quiet for his sake. It broke him that you didn't feel like you could confess your problems to him and as much as he wanted to knock on the door and tell you the words that have been on his lips for almost three years, he can't. If you didn't trust him now he was sure that him professing his love to you through the door wasn't going to help. God, he just wants you to be happy again. He missed the good ole' days in high school when the world wasn't crashing down on you both. When you smiled and didn't hide your problems from him, but that didn't mean Peter loved you any less. If anything, he thought you were beyond strong for being able to still carry all of this with you and be here with him. He wishes you could see what he sees, to Peter you were perfect. He wants you to understand that even if you don't think you're perfect because of all these little things well these little things are what separate you from everyone else. These little things are what define you and he loved them unconditionally. He thinks back to the time in the park, you'd been there for hours, the night only growing colder and darker. Two now adults having fun amid the night. Only half a year left before you were done with high school. It was reckless, spontaneous, and maybe even illegal, but for the two of you, it was what you needed to escape. You shivered and Peter pulled you closer to him, pressing your face into his chest, letting you bask in his warmth. You had held onto him like you never wanted to let go and you didn't. But there came a time when you did. And Peter had watched you disappear into the night, his heart beating incredibly fast in his chest and he knew then, he didn't want you to leave him ever again.

...

Another twenty minutes had passed and Peter still couldn't find you. At this point, he knew he had to. There were no more excuses, no more self-doubt he needed to tell you and he needed to do it now. Peter placed his drink back down on the bar, pushing off his seat and diving into the crowd and searching for the bathroom. He becomes increasingly frustrated when the party-goers don't seem to even acknowledge him and keep pushing against him like a tide pulling him into the sea, but he refuses to let them. His girl was out there and he needs to reach her and finally tell her the words that have been on his mind since the night in the park. He just hopes he isn't too late. After five minutes of shoving through drunk bodies, he stumbles into an open area with a door. There's an obvious sign that signals the bathroom and Peter practically collapses out of relief. He stands outside the door, fist raised to knock when he hears it. The soft sniffles and ruffling of your dress. He presses his ear to the door listening to your muffled cries and frantic breathing. Peter slowly sits on the ground outside the door, knowing you were also pressed against it and it makes him feel slightly closer to you. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his speeding heart and reminding himself this was for you.

"(Y/N)?" He said, voice barely above a whisper and he can hear you stop crying.

"P-peter?" You stuttered. Peter feels his heartbreak in his chest, cursing himself for dragging you out here in the first place.

"Yeah, it’s me.”

“What are you doing here?”

“You told me you were okay! You promised!”

"I'm sorry," You spoke through the door. "I'm sorry, I should be out there with you and instead you had to come to find me in the bathroom cause I'm just a fucking screwup."

"No," Peter said, shaking his head, leaning back against the door. "You're not a screwup, (Y/N). I'm the one who should be sorry, I should've come to check on you earlier. I'm sorry for even taking you here in the first place. I don't know what I was thinking. I just, I guess," He stumbles over his words, trying to work it out properly. "I guess I was scared."

"Of what?" You ask softly, rubbing at your eyes.

"Of losing you," Peter breathes. "I know you've been hurting for a while and I told myself I'd let you come to me first. I didn't want to scare you off because I can't- I can't lose you, but god, it hurt so much to know you were in pain and you couldn't talk to me. I was trying to be patient, really, I was, but I can't do it anymore. Please, please, talk to me."

There's silence and Peter doesn't even realize he's been holding his breath. He waits patiently, praying he didn't just screw it up when there's a small click. He rushes to his feet, brushing down the dust off his suit. He places his hand on the handle, ready to turn it, waiting for you to tell him it's okay.

"You can come in."

Peter doesn't waste another minute, he slowly pries the door open and shuts it behind him, locking it to ensure your privacy. He then turns around to look at you and his heart shatters, he reaches a hand out, tentatively, not sure if he can touch you. There's a moment where you debate the action, but you reach your hand out and lock your fingers together and Peter pulls you to his chest. He shushes you as you begin crying again, he carefully lowers both of your bodies to the ground, holding you close to his chest, pressing kiss after kiss to your forehead. His own tears slipping down his cheeks. He's gentle, just holding you and rocking you both back and forth until he can tell you've stopped.

"Peter?" You whisper into his chest.

"Yeah?”

"Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"That day at the coffee shop, when you called me beautiful."

Peter gently cups your face, pulling you to face him.

"Yes, I still do."

"But why?" You prod. "I'm not- I can't-" You hiccup.

Peter shushes you, brushing your hair out of your face, "I know you can't see it. And it puzzles me to this day how, but I'm not here to judge you on that. What you call imperfection, I call mistakes. Beautiful mistakes. These things that you hate, I love. And I will treasure them until the day I die. They're what make you, you. It's how I can tell you apart from everyone else. They remind me that you're real. I know you don't see it and that's okay, but please at least let me." He stands up, offering a hand to you as he pulls you off the ground. He rests his hands on your shoulders, turning you toward the mirror, not missing the slight flinch you give off.

"See these bags under your eyes?" He asks and you nod.

"They remind that you're up late studying because you can't wait to graduate and go out into the world and do amazing things. And your chapped lips remind me of summers spent in the sun, getting sunburnt and not bothering to drink anything but the fruit cocktails they make at the beach bar we love. Or your fizzy hair from too much time spent outside and testing out dumb hair hacks."

You slightly giggle at that and Peter feels his heart jump.

"You love them?" You ask, meeting his eyes in the mirror and he knows he has to say it now, he can't hold it in much longer.

"(Y/N), I have loved you since we were eighteen. That night when you left me in the park, I knew I couldn't stand the thought of you leaving me again. Even if it was to go home."

"That long?"

"Yeah," He replies, sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I want to be the one to hold you at night and make sure you get a goodnight's sleep. I want to be the one telling you it's okay to cry and holding you each time. I want to be the one who gets to kiss your lips every night and day because I can't get enough of you. I want to be the one who reminds you that you're beautiful in your own unique way."

You turn in his arms, lacing your hands together, marveling in the way they fit so perfectly. "Well, Peter, I want you to be the one to do all those things. Staring now."

"You're beautiful, you know."

"I do, thanks to you."

Peter leans down, resting his forehead to yours, pressing his hands to your cheeks. He brushes his lips against yours and your eyes flutter at the feeling and he takes the chance to finally do what he's wanted to do since he was eighteen. And he can't believe he's waited this long, you fit perfectly in his arms like you were made for them and he never wants to let you go. He wonders if you can read his mind when you press your hand's on top of his, a silent reminder to him that you aren't going anywhere.

"Thank you," You breathe out, still feeling like you were on cloud nine.

"For?"

"For saving me."

"I love you," Peter blurts out and you laugh, pulling him closer to you.

"I've loved you since we were eighteen, Peter."

Peter smiles like an idiot when you say that, he feels like his life is full now. A beautiful girl in his arms, a month away from graduating from college, and a girl who's loved him since the time he loved her.

And you, you, felt alive, happy, and loved. Your heart beats wildly in your chest and a grin bursts across your face as you realize the feeling of being empty was gone and instead replaced with the feeling of being in Peter's arms.

"My savior," You whisper against his lips.

"My beautiful girl," He replies before pressing his lips to yours once more.

—

a/n: please please please remember that you are beautiful in your own way. no one is perfect and people shouldn’t expect you to be. you should never go through this alone amd please talk to someone if it gets worse. You’re beautiful and you don’t need a mirror to tell you that. Someone one loves you. I love you. My inbox is always open!

🏷 Peter Taglist: @peterspideyy @runway-to-my-aid @yoinkyourheart @theolwebshooter @thegirlwiththeimpala @multi-universe21 @bibbidibobbidibarnes @abitofeverythinggg @harryismysunflower @cams-lynn @keenmarvellover @ducks

Fic tag: @averyfosterthoughts

strike through- can’t tag you

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larryfanficwriter98 · 3 years

Text

Chapter Six

*Fake It Until You Make It Real*

I got my new monitor and I finished editing this and decided to post it. TIME JUMP!!

Louis lasted all of two minutes under his mother's stare before he was trying to look busy. Usually if he looked busy, she'd leave and wouldn't stick around but not this time apparently.

"Who's Harry?" Louis froze only a second before he continued his organizing of children's books.

"Who?" He asked.

"Freddie mentioned him a lot over the weekend. Said you were getting married?"

"I am?" Louis asked trying to feign innocence, but he knew he failed when his mother didn't budge. "We've....discussed it."

"And I haven't even met this young man. Or heard about him."

"Fine. When we started discussing marriage, we decided it was time for him to meet Freddie. He has a daughter, and she doesn't know anything. We kept it a secret from everyone to see where it went. He's a doctor, works weird hours and we only see each other a few times a month. We've restricted ourselves to texting and the times when I don't have Freddie we see each other as much as we can." Louis said looking at her, she was sitting on the couch with her leg crossed over the other and her arms crossed across her chest.

"How long have you two been together?"

"Over a year." She narrowed her eyes at him, and he swallowed turning away chewing his lip as he focused on the books.

"Were you with him over the weekend?"

"I was. We...um..." Louis pressed his lips together tried to suppress a grin, "we looked at venues." He spoke quickly before he turned away and headed to the kitchen grabbed random objects just to misplace them somewhere else.

"Venues? Like Wedding Venues?" Louis nodded grabbing a napkin and cleaning off the dry erase board for the month. September was ending in a few days anyway, so he didn't need it anymore. "So, you're getting married to a man we haven't met yet?"

"I've met him. Freddie's met him." Louis tried to defend himself.

"Has Zayn met him?"

"No."

"Is he...a criminal?"

"I just said he's a doctor. He works weird and long hours. We're getting married January nineteenth." His mother stared at him, but he refused to back down as he looked back at her.

"Are you pregnant? Is this your way of tying someone down?" Louis' eyes widen and his jaw dropped before he laughed shaking his head.

"No. He proposed to me. I'm not pregnant this isn't like that." Louis said.

"Fine then tell me what this is like? You've been together for a year Louis...what if you don't like his personality in the morning...what if he treats Freddie badly after he gets comfortable...what if he traps you into a loveless marriage popping kids out...what if-" Louis sighed and headed to the table sitting down across from her as the sounds of Freddie playing with his train set could be heard. He grabbed his phone and opened the video of Harry and Freddie as they built that set then gave the phone to his mother.

Her eyes widen briefly when she saw him, and she looked at him making him roll his eyes. The video played and he could hear Freddie's consistent chattering and questions and Harry's calming voice answering his questions and telling him not to do something repeatedly. Harry's endless patience impressed Louis and his parenting style despite not having a child to parent all the time was also calming and nothing like Louis could have ever hoped for in a partner. He knew the moment his mother finally let some of her worries go, it was same moment he allowed himself to trust Harry with Freddie. Freddie had been jumping on Harry's lap only stopping a few seconds at a time when Harry told him to. Freddie was a toddler still however, so he chose to play over listen more often than not and as a result had ended up accidentally hitting Harry in the head with his own. Harry, unlike most people even parents themselves, Louis included sometimes, didn't even react except to calmly make sure Freddie was okay then set him on the ground beside him and told him to stay there or go play. Freddie had sat beside Harry without comment. Harry didn't look angry, didn't let the injury make him lash out, didn't even look to be annoyed at all. It was one of the many things that came with Toddlerhood unfortunately, Louis has had many bloody gums and lips because of Freddie. Later Harry had explained that he had many patients head butt him on the daily and Freddie's head wasn't as hard as a grown man's was. He had also been preparing for it and it wasn't that big of a deal. Injuries happen in the parenting journey and how the parent reacts can reflect on the child. Harry made Louis feel stupid and inadequate a lot, but he never meant to, and Louis made sure to never actually tell Harry he made him feel like a bad parent more times than not whenever he got into his doctor mode.

"He seems lovely and he's cute." She said wiggling her eyebrows, "I can see why you wanted to keep him all to yourself."

"It wasn't like that. We both didn't want Freddie or Maddison to know until we knew it was serious. When marriage became a topic, we knew it was time to meet Freddie." He said taking his phone back, "when I saw how well they got along we started talking about in depth and decided to do it in January. Smaller intimate wedding with just immediate family and close friends."

"And his daughter?"

"That's where it gets messy. Her mother isn't...great. Before you say there are two sides to the story trust me this woman does not deserve the title. Maddison goes to the school I work at and I see this woman all the time. She doesn't let Harry see her, the only time they see each other is if Harry comes to the school for a few minutes or when her babysitter let's Maddison use her phone. It's a mess. Harry pays for child support, but the mother uses that money on herself and not Maddison then has the audacity to ask for more money from Harry and Harry let's her. He gives her money. Hannah will bribe Harry of seeing his daughter for money only for something to come up and say next time only to ask for more money. Harry's afraid if he says no it'll look bad in court, so he just gives her money." Louis explained as he rested his head in his hand, his mother let his words sink in before she slowly nodded.

"I can see why it's been a secret then...so he's taking her to court?"

"November he's asking for regular visitation then after six months of visitation he can ask for custody. She wants to move to America and take Maddison with her, Harry wants to keep Maddison here with...us for stability and since she has already started school. All of her family is in the UK her mother's side and Harry's side included. Her babysitter is here."

"Stability. Is he pressuring you to get married sooner for this reason?"

"No mom though I won't lie it has influenced us a little. I want to marry him and we both want a winter wedding. We are sacrificing a bigger wedding for a small one so it's easier to plan on short notice, but it's not because he's pressuring me. We have already been planning for Freddie and me to move in with him this November when my lease is up so getting married comes next and we're taking the step a little sooner than we would thought but not for the wrong reasons." Louis said carefully making sure he said the right things.

"Promise this isn’t him pressuring you?"

"I promise. Look I can't promise anything as a sit-down meeting but next time I see him I'll facetime you. Deal?"

"Deal. So, where's the ring?"

"At his house. We want to tell Maddison without her asking questions about a ring on my finger."

*****

Louis jumped and looked up at the knock on his own classroom door and stared at Harry in shock for a minute before he grinned. He stood up and walked up to him.

"What are you doing here?" Louis asked glancing over at his students briefly.

"Came to see what you and Freddie are doing later tonight."

"Who's this Mister T?" A male student asked teasingly, "a boyfriend perhaps?"

"Great. Thanks. You couldn't have texted me?"

"I was on my way here anyway. Figured I'd stop by to see you and ask about your plans."

"We are free why?"

"Sleepover?" His class immediately reacted with 'oooh's and laughter, "it's Friday night and this is my weekend off. I'm over my overtime anyways so I can't go into work until Monday even if I was scheduled."

"I'll ask Freddie what he thinks when I pick him up. I'm sure he'll be more than happy to say yes."

"Good. I'll text you." Louis nodded watching as Harry headed down the hall towards the staircase.

He shook his head and sat back at his desk ignoring his class as he focused back on grading. When the final bell ran fifteen minutes later Louis was the last one out as usual and headed to the main lobby. As he was walking down the stairs, he saw Harry and Hannah talking with Maddison between them. Louis watched for a few moments before Hannah finally rolled her eyes and stormed off leaving Maddison with Harry who kneeled upfront of her. Maddison nodded rubbing her face and Louis' heart broke realizing she was crying. Harry hugged her tightly, his arms covering her entire back as he pulled her into his body and her arms wrapping around his neck. Louis smiled at the scene they made and was about to head out but caught Harry's eye who smiled at him and wiggled his fingers in a small greeting. Louis waved back and headed their way smiling at Maddison when she turned to him.

"Hey sweetie." Louis said.

"Hi Louis." Maddison said smiling up at him, "guess what."

"Hmmm....let me guess....you cut your hair?"

"Nooo."

"You grew your hair?"

"Nooo silly."

"I know what it is. You're turning grey." He said making her laugh.

"No, I'm staying with Daddy this weekend and he promised that if you and Freddie come over, we can build a big fort and watch Toy Story."

"That sounds like the best Friday night a man my age could ever have. I'll be sure to tell Freddie the plan when I go pick him up." Louis said.

"Pizza sound good?" Harry asked looking at Louis who nodded.

"Pizza is always good. I'll come by after I grab some clothes for the weekend if Freddie is agreeable."

"Perfect. We'll be there awaiting your arrival."

**** Louis took the offered blanket with a soft thanks as he sat on the patio swing overlooking the large backyard space that was rare to find in Manchester or anywhere in the big cities for that matter. Harry sat beside him, and Louis made sure to give him enough of the blanket to keep warm in the chilly night air.

“So, I’d say all things considered today was a great step.” Harry said watching the dogs run around to find a good spot to do their business.

“Yeah. Only three fights and one tantrum. A lot better than I thought it would be.”

“To be fair Maddie definitely had it coming when she tried to put makeup on him.” Louis laughed shaking his head remembering the fight they had to breakup. Maddie had somehow convinced Freddie to dress up as a princess with her, but Freddie refused to wear makeup, so Maddie decided to try and do it anyway.

“I can’t believe you let her do your makeup…I never thought I’d see you with lilac lipstick Harold.”

“I was rocking that lilac lipstick Louis don’t deny it. Lilac lipstick and bright yellow eyeshadow with light pink blush is a killer look.” Louis didn’t say anything as he slowly sipped his hot tea in his mug held between his hands.

“Sure it is.” Louis said smirking lightly as he remembered he still had to send those pictures to his mother before bed, “Maddie took the news well.”

“She likes you. It makes things easier on her part I guess since she knew you from school. What did you two talk about?” Harry asked turning to look at him completely.

“Oh, she asked me if she had to call me Papa and I explained to her and Freddie that our names will be fine and that there is no pressure to call us anything they don’t want to. Apparently, Hannah’s boyfriend makes her call him dad upfront of his family.” Louis said glancing at Harry hesitantly, but he just nodded, “You knew?”

“Yeah. He’s been trying to adopt her as well, but he can’t. Not without my consent and obviously I’m not giving it.” Louis shook his head looking over to the dogs.

“I can’t believe people are this petty…or horrible…why keep a father from his child?”

“I wasn’t the best boyfriend Louis…not back then. I was so focused on my education I neglected her emotionally that is. I didn’t bully her or anything, I wasn’t abusive by any means, but it’s not completely her fault. When she took Maddie and left I…I was so pissed, and I had the cops called on me for domestic dispute. Luckily, they didn’t have to arrest me as I left willingly, but I wasn’t innocent in this mess. Sometimes I’d take a last-minute grocery run with Maddie when I had her just to keep her a little while longer and it pissed Hannah off. I didn’t mean it in a rude way I just wanted more time with her than the few hours she gave me randomly. When I turned her down to rekindle the relationship because I finally wanted to be me and be with guys and be gay and be a doctor, she became like this and worse.”

“She cheated Harry…she wasn’t there to help you study or ease your stress from medical school. She wasn’t making sure you had hot food when you got home or anything. She started it and she let it grow and then she cheated and took your daughter and left without any type of communication. You may not have been giving her flowers every Friday or complimenting her everyday like you think you should have, but she also wasn’t do the same for you. None of it is your fault. You may not have solved the situation when you could have, but you didn’t cause it. Not really.” Harry looked at Louis, his hand holding his head up as he smiled at him.

“Thanks.” Harry said reaching out and taking his hand squeezing it, “I know I tell you this every time we talk, but I really do appreciate this.” Louis looked at him with a smile as he intertwined their fingers together and looked back out to the dogs. They sat there in the calm silence of the chilly night, letting it calm them from the busy week they both had.

“So, you never did tell me why you had Maddie. You started to but we got summoned for fort construction.”

“That’s right. Well, we got called into a meeting about her reading and writing. They want her to start tutoring and I argued, tutors always made me feel dumber and I learned by having at home help. Hannah had this whole sob story about not having money for a tutor and how things have been tight as she was wearing a designer belt. But you know the man, the father is always in the wrong, so he believed her and asked me if I’d be willing to pay for a tutor. Long story short I refused. I said she needs help from someone who has dyslexia, someone who gave it to her. AKA ME. It was a tense meeting but at the end of it I figured me refusing to pay for a tutor would look bad, so I agreed to pay the hundred a month for school hired tutor. When we left Hannah and I started arguing because I asked if I could have Maddie sometime soon as I had news, I wanted to share with her. Hannah wanted to know but I didn’t tell her and eventually it ended up with Hannah leaving after telling me to just keep her until Sunday.”

“Sounds like a fun conversation. Sad I missed it.” Louis said smirking lightly making Harry’s eyes roll.

“Jerk. Ready to go inside?” Louis nodded standing up and grabbing the blanket noticing that Harry didn’t let go of his hand as they headed to the glass sliding doors. At Harry’s whistle the dogs darted inside and towards the fort where the kids were fast asleep still after watching Toy Story. Well after watching thirty minutes of Toy Story to be exact. Harry, his hand still holding Louis’ headed up the stairs quietly and walked him to his guest room, “What do you want for breakfast in the morning?” He asked leaning his shoulder against the wall, his hands now holding Louis’ hand in them.

“I think the kids mentioned pancakes.”

“That they did. Pancakes it is then. Goodnight Louis. See you in the morning.” Harry said.

“Goodnight. Thanks for walking me to my door.” Harry laughed.

“Well, I’m nothing, but a gentleman.” He said before he gently kissed Louis’ cheek before he turned and headed to his own room.

#larry stylinson fanfiction #larry fanfiction #larry shippers #Larry Stylinson #larries #fake marriage #nonfamous au #larry fake marraige au #doctor harry styles #teacher louis #parents au #Wattpad #archive of our own

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the-walking-memelords · 5 years

Text

Allegiances: Chapter 18

Series is rated M

Word Count: 3911

The school never seemed so far away.

Read it on Ao3!

Read it on Wattpad!

As the sun rose, turning the dark blue sky to shades of soft orange and gold and the fluffy clouds pink and blue like cotton candy, Clementine’s future crumbled before her, the debris crashing down on her. Her ribcage felt as if it was squeezing every bit of air from her lungs, leaving her gasping as she stared at her mangled leg.

The life she had been building had been suddenly snatched from her grasp. Dying along with everything else in this godforsaken world. Dying like she was now dying.

Dying.

Forced to now leave them all behind.

With one single bite, her lifespan depleted from potential years to mere hours.

This can’t be happening.

She gripped the torn material tightly, resisting the desperate urge to claw the bite from her flesh as if it would somehow save her.

It didn’t save Lee.

“C-Clem?” She suddenly remembered the little boy who sat shaking next to her, tears welling in his eyes.

“Please don’t leave again. I-I-I just got you back you can’t leave me again!”

“AJ…” Clementine didn’t know what to say. They both knew what would happen now.

Her eyes stung with tears and she pulled him close so that he wouldn't see them fall. The boy sniffled and shook as he clung to her denim jacket while Clem squeezed him tight as the tears silently slid down her face, the anguish felt between both of them unbearable.

No time to cry now, Clementine.

You still have a job to do.

“AJ, look at me.” She held his shoulders. Seeing his cheeks glisten with tears broke her heart, especially that he was crying over her.

“We need to get you back to the school. The people there will take care of you. You’ll be safe. I promise.”

“But what about you? You always said we’d escape together.”

Clementine knew how hard it was to start over alone with a bunch of strangers, but she knew he’d be okay with them. She knew they would look out for him. She knew Louis would protect him.

Louis…

Did he even make it out? Did Tenn? All she could do was hope they’d be there when they got back.

If she made it back.

Just let me say goodbye…

That’s all I want…

“We don’t have time, AJ.” She positioned the axe to give herself leverage as she attempted to stand, her leg screaming in protest. Louis said they wouldn’t be far from the school, right? They just had to keep moving forward.

“Push on… Fight on... Look forward…”

Clementine fell to her knees as her leg refused to hold her weight, her body heavy and slow, weak from blood-loss. She pressed her forehead to the end of the wooden handle, mustering the strength for another attempt.

“Never back.” AJ finished the mantra for her. He looked to her with a steely gaze to fight his tears. They both knew neither of them could fall apart right here.

“That’s right.”

Clementine forced herself to her feet once again, her head beginning to feel foggy as she began to march along one step at a time. She leaned her weight against the axe, using it as a makeshift walking stick.

---

They followed the path with AJ taking the front. Though she couldn't see his face, she could hear him sniffling every now and then.

"Just don't think about it right now." She didn't need to be psychic to read his mind right now.

"Just think about something else. Anything."

“What are the other kids like?” He asked nervously.

“They’re good people. They look out for each other. They’ll look out for you too.” She assured.

“They forgave me when they found out about the Delta. Trusted me to help them bring everyone home. They’re… a family. A real one. And they wanted us to be a part of that family.”

“Me?” AJ asked in confusion.

“But they don’t know me. How do they know I’m not bad?”

“Because they know me and they know how much I care about you.” And all the lengths she’d go to protect him.

“That’s good enough for them.”

The boy still seemed unsure and saddened. There really wasn’t a way to dance around the topic without the constant reminder that there would soon be someone else taking care of him.

“There’s nine of them. Most of them are closer to my age but Tenn and Willy are a bit closer to yours.”

Clementine continued to describe the members of the boarding school.

“Violet was the blonde girl that got taken. She’s really strong and fierce. Protects the group.”

I hope she won't take out what I’ve done on AJ.

“Brody was the other girl. She’s been through a lot since the first time the Delta came after them, but things are going to get better now.”

Now she can finally start to heal.

“Mitch is smarter than anyone gives him credit for. He’s the one who made the bomb that took out the boat, and had the guts to go toe-to-toe with Dorian.”

He stuck up for Louis, I hope I get to thank him for that.

“Omar is a really good cook. The food is way better than what the Delta gave us, or, what they gave me at least.”

Hot meals every day for the rest of AJ’s life.

“Tenn and Willy are the youngest ones. Tenn is really smart and he loves to draw, like you. Willy is a bit of a troublemaker, which is a given since Mitch practically raised him, but he’s a good kid.”

They’re both good kids. I hope they have the chance to be kids for a while longer.

“Aasim is an expert hunter. He makes sure everyone has enough to eat and will do whatever it takes to get food on the table. He also has this diary thing he calls his ‘History Book’ where he writes down things that happen at the school.”

He’ll have one hell of a story to tell about all this.

“Ruby is really sweet and looks out for everyone, especially the kids. She’s the doctor of the group and she’ll help you if you get hurt.”

She’d be willing to help him if he got sick, unlike The New Frontier’s doctor.

“And then, of course, there’s Louis…” Clementine felt a sudden pang of guilt.

“Louis is the sweetest person I’ve ever met.”

I’m so sorry…

“He’s really funny, makes everyone laugh.”

We were going to build that house together.

“He loves music, he sings and plays the piano. He could teach you how.”

We were going to be a family… the three of us.

“He taught me how to live, not just survive.”

He taught me how to love as well.

“Is Louis your favourite? You sound like you like him more than you like the other people.”

Clementine nearly choked on air.

“Uh… yeah, he’s uh, my favourite.” Clementine managed to chuckle through the despair.

“He’s going to look after you when I’m gone.”

Clem's pace slowing more and more as they travelled. She moved as fast as she could to keep up with him but her body began to betray her already. AJ's pace began to slow as well until he walked by her side, taking her hand as he squeezed her fingers.

"I'm sorry I lost your hat." He said with a tone of shame, unable to look up at the older girl.

“I know I was supposed to protect it for you but I lost it and now it’s gone.”

Clementine had grown used to not having it with her. Yet still, watching it fall into that pit of walkers felt for a moment like losing her parents to the walkers all over again. That hat had seen about as much death and torment as she had, maybe now it would be able to rest as she soon would be able to as well.

“AJ, it doesn’t matter.” She said as he finally met her gaze.

“My hat meant a lot to me, sure. But it was just a thing. You’re more important than a smelly old baseball cap.”

“I love you, Clem.”

“I love you back, kiddo.” She wanted to stop for just a moment. Just a moment to enjoy the time spent with him.

Peace.

She fought so hard for it all she wanted was to feel it for one goddamn second.

Her steps became clumsier and heavier. Whether it was from blood loss or infection she didn’t know and didn’t really care. Her left boot squelched with each step, her foot sticky with her own blood.

“I-It’s… It’s not that far.” She stuttered out through her rapid yet laboured breathing. Telling both AJ and herself.

“Wait.” AJ halted in place, gripping his pistol tighter.

“Something’s here.”

Clementine stopped, the axe barely holding her up. She tried to listen, to sense what he sensed, but the ever growing fog in her mind made it difficult to concentrate.

The sound of bodies clumsily meandering through the trees slowly came into focus too slow for them to avoid the threat of being quickly surrounded.

Why are there so many this far from the ship?

The path around her seemed familiar as she spotted the dilapidated frame of James’ barn peeking out from within the trees. She knew it could keep walkers in, but could it keep them out?

Clementine tried to run, but her leg betrayed her at the most crucial moment, sending her crashing to the ground as the herd continued to surround them.

Get up. Get up. Get up!

Clementine screamed at herself as she pushed down on the axe, her boots digging into the dirt. She let out a frustrated grunt as she willed her body to cooperate.

A body hand harshly grabbed her hood in an attempt to pull her up that was definitely not good-natured. She tried to swat it away, not having enough strength for both of the tasks at hand.

A bullet ripped through the walkers skull and slumped to the ground nearly on top of the sickly girl. If they didn't already have the herd's undivided attention, they certainly had it now.

"C'mon Clem, please!" AJ pleaded, pulling her right arm over his shoulder.

She leaned against his tiny form as they hobbled quickly towards the barn's double doors. AJ managed to not only hold her weight but shoot away the dead that got too close. Clementine couldn't believe how much he'd changed. He was still her little boy, but the amount of skill he possessed was far beyond his years.

The Delta will do that to you.

Clementine didn't so much as push the doors in as she more fell into them, sprawling into the scratchy hay as AJ slammed the doors behind them, the herd immediately on their heels. Clem leaned against the doors with all of her weight, unable to actually push. AJ helped, though the strength of a girl an inch from death and a five-year-old wouldn't be able to hold back the unfaltering wave of the dead outside.

"AJ... f-find something!" Her feet dug deep past the hay into the dirt as she desperately rammed her back against the aged wood.

"We need to... brace... the door!"

AJ frantically looked around for something sturdy to stick between the handles. Without his small amount of effort holding the doors became exponentially more difficult. She prayed there was something to find.

“Clem, I found something!” The boy pulled out a rake with a sturdy looking handle from beneath a pile of hay.

“Do it!” She yelled, feeling herself slipping forward under the pressure of the hungry dead outside.

The moment AJ shoved the rake through the handles of the door, Clementine held her breath as she slowly leaned off the door, testing the waters of whether or not it would hold. Hold it did, and Clem let out a sigh of relief before the walkers reminded her that you can’t run from death forever.

With the door sealed shut, the walkers moved on to other potential points of entry, resorting to tearing through the walls of the barn if it meant getting at the two living inside. The snarls outside grew angrier as if the dead were frustrated that the two had the audacity to lock them out.

“AJ, get out of here.” She looked up to the roof where several holes allowed the first rays of daylight pour in, illuminating their only way to salvation.

“They’re going to tear this place apart you need to go!”

“What? I can’t leave you here!” He cried, aiming his gun wildly at the walkers who tore at the wood from all directions, ripping the fragile building apart at the seams.

“I’m dead anyway!” The words felt like bile in her throat but at the same time, they felt very true.

She looked at her little boy and saw a fire in his eyes. A spark of determination that she recognized in herself whenever she participated in a fight.

“Cover me.” He nearly ordered, holding his gun out to her.

The metal felt frigid against her scorching skin. She held the heavy object with a shaking hand, trading the gun with her knife.

AJ bolted to the stall doors, metal screeching against metal as he heaved it along the rail. It slammed shut just as the walkers burst through the wall. They slammed their bodies against the sliding door but thankfully it didn’t even budge. The child ran in a zig-zag pattern, slamming closed every door as the arms of the walkers swung wildly through the bars. The snapping of wood came from every direction as the dead began to flood in. Clem watched in horror as AJ slid the final door closed, only for a bony hand to slip between the gap and force it back open.

“Get back!” Clementine screamed as she focused her aim on the walkers who entered, firing shot after shot and while some landed in the walls behind them, others sent them crashing to the ground. More entered, however, and the empty clicking of her pistol upon pulling the triggered sent a new wave of fear up her spine.

AJ looked back. As their eyes met she found her fear was not mirrored in them. His steeled bravery burned onward as he raised his knife. He went for the knee, ruining the walker’s balance and causing it to fall where its head was within reach. With one final stab, the walker was dead, but there was always more where that came from. Ducking and dodging, Clementine was amazed at his capability, dispatching of two more in the same manner with little difficulty.

What did they teach you?

How much did I miss?

Clementine sat helpless as he frantically attempted to slam the door closed once more, the track becoming blocked by a walker crawling on the ground who lunged at the boy, it’s rotting arm grabbing his foot and pulling him towards it’s snapping jaw.

AJ didn’t hesitate, plunging his knife into the walker’s skull repeatedly until it released him. Kicking it back to the other side it was finally over for now as the final door slid shut.

“G-Good job, AJ. You did it.” Clementine let out a whimper as her back hit the hay bale, leaning her head against it as she lacked the strength to hold it up any longer.

So this is the end.

All of this was unnervingly familiar

Is this how you felt, Lee?

Locked in a small space. One bitten, A child about to be left alone surrounded by the dead. She looked at AJ and saw her younger self staring back at her. A child’s eyes full of fear as their protector lay bitten and wasting away in front of them.

Clementine felt like a mere shell of the person she used to be. Her skin pale and clammy, her eyes adorned with dark circles hanging underneath. She squinted at the sunlight that peeked through the holes in the ceiling, her eyes stinging against the brightness only making the pounding in her head worse. The smell of the corpses who’s hands reached for them from between the bars made her stomach lurch. Clem resisted the urge to vomit, though she hadn’t eaten since yesterday evening she doubted there was much to come up.

“Come on.” AJ said through panting breaths, mapping a way to climb to the roof.

“The monsters can’t reach us up there. It isn’t that hard, we can do this.”

All Clementine could do was give him a hopeless look. She couldn’t even stand, how could she possibly climb?

“You have to try, Clem. Please.” The boy begged, urging her onward.

Try Clementine did, though she didn’t get far. Every movement sent a sharp ache through her joints, the ever growing pain sapped what little energy the girl had left in reserve as she slumped down back in her spot after her fruitless effort.

“You can’t give up!” AJ tugged on her arm in an attempt to raise her to her feet.

“Not now!”

“AJ, please stop.” She whimpered weakly, pulling her arm back.

“I need you.” Tears welled in his round eyes once again as the reality of what was happening sunk into them.

“You don’t need me…” Clementine dismissed. The guilt of her past failures only weighing her down more.

“All I ever did was get you into trouble. Look how well you did just now. I’m so… proud of you.”

Clementine always saw herself as a magnet for trouble, as if she was some kind of bad omen. A black cloud that emanated from her being, infecting all who crossed her path and dooming them all to pain and death.

Now it was finally catching up to her.

“My… little Goofball.”

“It’s Alvin Junior.” He said stubbornly.

“You’ll always be Goofball to me.” Clem felt a tear drip onto her hand. She hadn’t even realized she was crying.

“I’m so sorry, kiddo. This is just what happens sometimes.”

“But it wasn’t supposed to happen to you.” The tone in his voice broke her heart. She didn’t want to leave him. She would give anything to stay and watch him grow up like she promised so many.

“AJ, look at me.” She urged the boy to come closer which he obliged, kneeling next to her with his hands in his lap and his head hung low.

“You’re such a cutie, how did I get so lucky?” She placed her hand on his cheek, raising his head to see his face. She smiled although he wore a mournful expression.

She took her hand and quickly booped him on the nose, a tactic that before when he was younger would send him into a fit of giggles. She let out a small laugh even though her weak attempt to cheer him up even a little failed.

“Please don’t be silly right now.”

“I just wanted to see you smile.” Clementine let out a shaky breath as more tears slid down her pale cheeks.

“Just… one more smile, before I go?”

Through the tears that fell down his face, the boy was able to manage a small smile. He was only able to force it for a moment before it faltered, falling back into the gloom.

“Lovely.” Her voice struggled to remain above a whisper.

“AJ, I need to know you remember… the things I taught you… the rules.”

Their rules hadn’t warranted much use over the past few years, but still, just like Lee, she never stopped teaching. Teaching him the rules he would need to follow upon their eventual escape, though she had hoped she would have more time to guide him.

“What’s rule number one?”

“Never… Never go alone.” He stammered.

“Which is why I can’t leave you here!”

“AJ…”

“It’s your rule!”

“You won’t be alone… not for long.” The others would take care of him.

“You just have to get back to the school.”

“I don’t know where it is.” He argued.

“It’s easy, it’s just West of here. So keep the sun at your back, and let your shadow lead the way.” The school wasn’t far. He could make it. She knew he would.

“Remember the first thing I taught you? You need to make sure they can’t smell you.”

She waved her hand in the direction of the rotting corpses that laid fully dead in front of them. She cringed as AJ swung the axe down on the walker’s torso, sticking his hands inside and rubbing the disgusting red all over his clothes and face.

“Now, what’s rule number two? What do we do when the monsters come?”

“We shoot ‘em in the head.”

Clementine looked almost disgusted at the silver pistol she held weakly in her hand, the clip emptied into the walkers that laid around them.

“Got any ammo?” She croaked, her throat drying up.

“No, it’s all gone.”

“Fuck.” Clementine pronounced in mild horror as she looked at the axe.

“And… the last rule?”

“Clem, no… I-I want to stay here, with you.” AJ cried as he gripped the axe in his small hands.

“I know what will happen, and I don’t care. You always said we’d get out together, but if I leave then that won’t really happen! But if I stay… then we can stay together, just, a different ‘together.’”

What was he saying? He’d rather turn? Clementine couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Not a chance, kid. I’ve got a job for you.” Clementine’s dismal gaze hardened as she forced out the words.

“I need you to go to the school, sleep in a bed, and have friends, and grow tall, taller than I ever was.”

I’m not letting him give up because of me.

“I need you to live, AJ. For me. That’s your job now.”

“Okay… Okay, Clem.” The blood-soaked boy gave in to her wishes, no matter how obvious it was he’d still rather remain by her side.

“That’s my job.”

“Last rule.”

“No!” AJ gripped the axe tightly in his hands.

“What do we do if I get bit?” As brave as Clementine was, they both knew there was something that scared her above all else.

“Are you gonna make me say it?”

AJ couldn’t formulate a response, all he could do was cry.

“You have to leave me, AJ.” No words felt sourer as they rolled off her tongue. Vocalizing it somehow made it all feel more real.

What a fitting place to turn.

James’ barn of the dead.

Clem wondered if James was still alive and if he was if he would return here find her. The first walker in his new collection.

“But before you said-”

“I know, but now that we’re here? I can’t make you do it.” She could recall the deathly look in Lee’s eyes as if it happened yesterday. She wondered if she appeared the same to AJ.

“I had to do it for Lee, and it never left me. I don't want you to have to live with that on you.”

“No. I won’t let you become a monster!” AJ raised his axe above his head in defiance swinging it down onto the girl who was his protector.

AJ knew he’d have to live with what he’d done, but he knew he could, because this time, Clementine was wrong.

#allegiances #my writing #fanfic #angst #twdg clementine #twdg aj

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looselucy · 6 years

Photo

July

Two noises awoke me on the Sunday morning of the festival. The first was noise of heavy rain crashing down on my fabric roof. The second was the sound of my tent opening. Neither was a good noise.

I pulled my sleeping bag over my head and groaned loudly, not sure which one of the lads had chosen to climb into my tent, and not fussed to see any of them. The only thing that made me move my cover, was the thought that maybe it was a stranger who had stumbled into my home. It was Mike. “Pippa, do you know what time it is?” He asked. “No.” “Do you want to know?” “No.” “Are you rough.” “No.” “Liar.” He chuckled. Obviously, I was lying. I was rough as hell, and not in any state to get out bed quite yet. I needed a little time to recover. Only the day before, I had been gloating about not having hangovers at festivals, and yet there I was, rough as rats. I moved my hand out of the sheets and stroked my thumb over Mikes forehead. “You caught the sun.” I sulked at his bright red skin. “Not gunna happen today though, is it?” He tutted up to the sky. The sound of rain was always amplified in a tent, but I could still tell that it was genuinely pissing it down outside. All the more reason to stay in my tent. “Where are the lads?” I asked, waking. “Louis stole a gazebo, so we’re sorted. He’s already drunk.” He grinned. “We miss you though. We want you to join the fun.” I missed them too, if that was physically possible. The sleep I’d had was obviously needed, but the more I stared at Mikes adorable little burnt face, the more I was regretting staying in my tent. “Okay.” I sighed. “Go on. Tell me. What time is it?” “It’s three.” “THREE?” I cried. “Three.” He repeated through a smile. “Shit. I need to get up.” “Yeah, ya do.” He nodded. “I’ll leave you to it. But if you’re not out in five minutes, I’m coming back to bother you.” He kissed my forehead and then shuffled uneasily out of the tent. My tent was small even for me, never mind Mike the giant. I sat myself upright, shivering in my tent as I grabbed a thick jumper and started pulling it over my head and piecing together the evening before. All I could think about was how wonderful my evening with Harry had been. How for a few hours, it was like I had completely forgotten the wreck of a situation I was in when it came to him. How for just a while, I spent time with him, and everything was normal and everything was nice and I could just be with him without over-thinking it. I hated that it all fell apart before we ended the night. The evening was going to be absolutely perfect, and the worst part was, I wasn’t sure the evening had unravelled just because I had looked into it too much, just because my damn brain was in a whir. I grabbed my little compact mirror to see my face, and in my frenzy the evening before, I had obviously forgotten to take off my makeup. I had mascara stained down my cheeks. I cursed to myself, hating the thought that Mike had obviously just seen that and could possibly be mentioning to the boys. He was more than likely out there telling them all that he thought I had been crying, and then they would start asking why. I cursed to myself again. I rushed to put my hair in a ponytail and wipe the black stains from my face and got out of the tent as quickly as I could, in the hope I had escaped before they had chance to talk about me. But as I stood up straight outside my tent, the boys were all staring at me, sympathetic little smiles on their faces, none the of them saying a thing in their stupid little chairs, beers in their hands. Why has no one ever taught the male species about faking a conversation to save someone’s face and feelings? I bent down to grab a can from my crate, rolling my eyes at the lot of them when they couldn’t see, and then sat in my chair, keeping my head down. “I stole a gazebo.” Louis pointed to the green thing sheltering us from the rain. “You’re my hero.” I replied, grateful he had started a conversation. “We’re refusing to let the rain get us down.” “How you feeling?” Zayn asked me, trying to cover the concern in his voice. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I shrugged. “I just- I’m gunna go grab some food before I start drinking, does anyone want anything?” I couldn’t stand them all looking at me like I was a lost puppy, and I figured if I just gave them five minutes to push past it whilst I went a grabbed a burger from the nearest food van, by the time I got back they would all be fine. Even Harry, who looked just as rough as I did. They all mumbled a no, except Louis, who leaped straight up to his feet. “I’ll come with you.” He chirped. “Alright.” We began darting through tents until we found ourselves on the footpath, the rain belting down on us as Louis zipped up his waterproof jacket and I put up my hood. “Mike mentioned the mascara.” He began pretty quickly. “What? No way! I couldn’t tell at all!” I groaned sarcastically. “What?” “You were all looking at me with these sad fucking eyes. Bloody hell. Made me feel like an idiot.” “Were you crying over Harry? You should never cry over boys. Boys like Harry secretly thrive off that shit. Gives them power.” “I cried over you!” I shot. “That’s because I’m a bastard, and I still feel shit about that!” He pointed out. Harry had admitted to me himself that he had issues with power, so what Louis was saying made complete sense, I just hated the thought of Harry feeling smug about my tears. I didn’t want to think it was true, but I wouldn’t put it past him. “Promise I’ll never cry over you again.” I smiled. “Promise to never make you cry again.” The nearest food van was lit up in the near distance like a lighthouse at the end of a perilous journey overseas. The yellow lights illuminated the mud around the area, warm, welcoming, and the geniuses had even invested on clear gazebos to cover the wooden tables they had outside. “You want anything?” I asked. “Nah. I’ll go sit down and wait for ya.” I realised as I ordered my food, that the place was still alive, in spite of the rain, The true heroes were still out of their tents, music on, dancing and thriving off the thunder that growled through the clouds. The ground was slippery and dangerous beneath my feet, the sky grey, but still the atmosphere and mood of the place refused to shift anywhere other than magnificent. I thanked the van-man for my food and then dashed over and sat across from Louis, who still had a beer in hand and a lazy smile on his face. “I can’t believe you’ve been drunk since before I even managed to wake up.” I said, before taking a bite. “It’s what I do. I went to my first festival last year, and I was out of control. I planned on keeping it up this year, and I have fucking nailed it!” He really had. I wasn’t sure if I had seen him sober once all weekend. I wasn’t even sure he was sober when he arrived. Louis was making the most of the whole festival thing, and how it was acceptable to be drunk at any hour of the day “You had a good time?” I chuckled. “Amazing. Have you?” “So good. Reality seems very unappealing right now.” He nodded, agreeing with me and silently eyeing me across the table, before he hesitantly approached the topic, like I knew he would. “So, why were you crying?” I knew he was going to ask, even though he knew it was about Harry. But I guess what he was really questioning, was what exactly had happened that had brought me to tears. I could barely answer. “I don’t really know.” I sighed. “I had a really nice night with him, and everything was fine and I felt fine, but… then I think it just hit me how much I like him. I’m not even sure, I was fucked. So, I cried, like I always fucking do. Have you ever known someone who cries as much as me?” “Probably not.” He laughed. “Exactly. So maybe you shouldn’t read into my tears too much. Those puppy dog eyes are really condescending.” “Apologies.” He held his hands up. I took another big bite of my burger and playfully stuck my middle finger up at Louis, which he gladly returned. I still couldn’t quite believe that it was Louis who I had decided to talk to about this, but as he sat there across from me, drunk and cheery, he seemed like the ideal guy to unleash my misery on. + + + The weather got worse before it got better, and we all ended up huddled in Mikes bigger tent once the wind began blowing the raindrops under our cover. I lay between Zayn’s legs with my head on his chest, the choice of music mine as I opted for Blur, which got a nod of approval from everyone. Louis kept checking outside the tent in the hope we could retreat relatively soon. “It hasn’t been raining as much for like, ten minutes.” He said hopefully. “LOUIS DO YOU MIND? I’M TELLING A STORY!” Mike cried. “Sorry, man. Go on.” “So I said to him, excuse me sir, I ordered a pint, and this is not full to the top, and he said, well, it wasn’t even me who served you. And that’s when I realised we were in a completely different pub, and that was a completely different pint. I went home after that because I was too drunk.” It had reached the stage where we all genuinely found Mikes terrible stories funny, because it was his thing. If Mike ever told a funny story, I think none of us would laugh, we would be too confused, but it was thanks to the lack humour in every tale that he told, that we often ended up in stitches. My head was bobbing up and down like crazy thanks to Zayn laughing. “You should write a book.” Harry told him through chuckles. “A book?” “A book of stories. Just your little anecdotes.” He grinned. Mike was flattered, probably because Mike obviously thought his stories were great, but that was for different reasons than we did. “You think?” His eyes were wide. “What would I call it?” “Talking Shit. A professional guide. By Mike Jones.” Mikes face absolutely dropped and we all laughed even more, Harry seeming very proud of himself for getting such a good reaction from his crowd, taking up an entire side of the tent as he lay on his side and stretched across, his arm propping up his head, and one knee pointed to the sky, like someone was bloody sketching him. “Harsh, man. Harsh.” Mike nodded. “Fuck. I really don’t wanna go home.” Zayn smacked a kiss on the top of my head. “I don’t miss my bed or anything.” I sighed. “I just want to be here forever. It’s like another world.” “Fuck, guys, I forgot to tell you!” Louis cried. “I heard some people talking last night, and apparently there’s a secret stage somewhere.” “That shit is a fucking legend.” Zayn snorted. “I’ve heard that for the past sixteen years of my life. I’ve never found it. It’s not real.” “No no no, man, I heard!” Louis argued. “I heard them talking about it because they’d been there! We gotta find it.” “There’s nothing to find.” “I heard them saying that there’s a tunnel! I’m telling you, it’s real.” “A tunnel?” Zayn scoffed. “Can we go find it? Please? We need to at least look.” Zayn tutted and sighed, but Louis had these glistening eyes that were definitely hard to say no to. On top of that, Zayn really loved Louis. “Alright. Does everyone want to waste their time looking for the non-existent, secret stage?” We all cried our replies at exactly the same time. Though they did vary. “I’d love to!” I beamed. “I’m down for that.” Harry shrugged. “Fuck yes, bitch, let’s do it!” Mike cried. I sat upright in an attempt to go and put on some more acceptable clothes, since it had been dry-ish for quite a while now, and I was ready to get back into the arena and enjoy our final evening, but I was brought to a halt. “Guys, there’s just one thing, before we go.” Zayn spoke. “What?” I quizzed. “Every year on the last night, everyone puts on loads of bright makeup and glitter and stuff. S’a bit of a tradition.” “You want me to wear makeup?” Harry scowled. For what felt like the millionth time, I rolled my eyes at Harry’s protection over his dear masculinity. It just made me want to plaster foundation all over his face and constantly be following him and littering him with glitter, dancing around him and singing Spice Girls songs. He needed to take a leaf out of Zayn’s book. “Honestly, mate, you’ll look more out of place if you don’t put makeup on.” Zayn said to him. “I think I’m okay with that.” “Well, you won’t be seen with us then.” Mike tutted. “Fun-sponge.” “Pip, will you do my makeup for me?” Louis grinned. “Of course.” I laughed back. “I’ll do everyone’s makeup.” All our heads turned slowly to Harry, wondering if he could drop his bravado for just one night and join in the fun with the rest of us. Though he seemed reluctant, he finally agreed. “Fine. I’ll wear fucking makeup.” He fumed. + + + There weren’t many occasions where I had been so close to Harry’s face, and the gap between us hadn’t been closed. There had never been a time I was so close to Harry, applying glitter to his face. I doubted he ever wanted it to happen again. I had done my own makeup after getting changed, then I did the other three boys, who were outside enjoying the dry atmosphere whilst it lasted, drinking and singing away, and then it was just me and Harry in Mikes tent, Harry unwillingly opting for minimal makeup. I was putting silver glitter on his temples, shaping his eyes beautifully. “Would you cheer up!” I chuckled and whined. “I look like an idiot.” He groaned. “You don’t look like an idiot, you’re just acting like one.” He was looking deep into my eyes as I shaped the lines of his face, putting light traces of the glitter beneath his cheek bones, looking anywhere but actually at him, wishing I could get through the entire process with my eyes closed. “Easy for you to say.” He huffed. “Just ‘cause you look idiotically beautiful with glitter all over your face.” It wasn’t quite a flinch, because Harry wouldn’t have ever let himself, but it was like an alarmed look on his face, like he hadn’t meant to say it, it just slipped out. The glitter was, thankfully, hiding my pink cheeks. “Don’t try and butter me up.” I tried to brush past it. “I’ll just end up putting more glitter on.” “I wasn’t trying to butter you up.” He sighed. “You need to learn how to accept a compliment.” “Hey! I know how to accept a compliment.” “Then let me say something, and just say thank you.” He said, so I nodded. “You are fucking beautiful.” It was like he knew he had been close to flinching and he just needed to change that by repeating the statement in a more confident manner, so I wouldn’t know he was human and he faltered sometimes. I looked down to the floor, not able to look at his face for another second, but Harry didn’t let me escape that easily. He took his finger and his thumb, pinched them between my chin, and lifted my face so I was staring into the headlights again. He nodded, prompting me to talk. “Thank you.” I did as I was told. “You’re welcome. Now are we done?” He grinned. “Yeah. We’re done.” “Thanks, Pip-Squeak. You’ve made me look terrible, and I’m grateful. You ready to go?” “Mhm.” I wasn’t ready to go. At all. I was very concerned that if I tried to stand up I would just go toppling back to the ground like a damsel in distress. That was genuinely how I felt. I was genuinely distressed by the whole thing. Harry scuttled out of the tent, and was greeted by the boy’s whey-ing and cheering the fact he had some kind of decoration on his face, much to his dismay, and I sat on my knees in Mikes tent just trying to control my breathing so I wouldn’t pass out. Harry had said nice things to me previously, complimented me, flattered me, made me blush, but he had never said anything that had gotten to me quite like that. It was that whole thing; how I could just tell he couldn’t help himself. That he had just told me that so honestly. It was one of the first times in my life that I felt truly beautiful, and I was too shook up to appreciate it. Then on top of that, I just started getting annoyed with myself, for only feeling beautiful because a boy had told me I was. But it was Harry. Harry had told me he thought I was beautiful, and suddenly my feelings felt more delightful than they did daunting. “Pull yourself together.” I seethed to myself. I practically ran out of the tent and re-joined the boys, because the longer I stayed on my own, the longer I gave myself to reflect over and evaluate what it meant, which was never good. Especially for me. I could overthink a cough if I wanted to. I blamed those lectures studying people and body languages, but it was something I had done for years. I guess, maybe, it was down to having a sibling. A childhood with an older brother consisted mainly of dirty looks and sly remarks and hidden messages. All those things, on top of being a pretty typical female, had made me one of those people who couldn’t just forget things. Everything needed to be looked into and investigated. I clambered out of the tent as soon as I could. As soon as the fresh air hit me, so did a can of beer. “Sorry!” Mike laughed. He had obviously predicted that I would have a speedy reaction when he chucked the drink to me, but quick reaction skills weren’t something I could claim. That’s why it hit me in the face. I bent down and picked up my can, clicking it open and looking at the boys. Zayn looked mesmerizing. He had gone for glitter on his eyelids, thin, long, striking; making every look he gave seem as though he was mid-photoshoot. Like he was a model and we were all just basking in his presence. He also had glitter all over his lips, marking how plump they were. Louis was all cheekbones, thick stripes against the already striking structure of his face, another thick stripe down the centre of his forehead. Of course, Mikes glitter was all over the place. He had requested a dot on his chin, one on his forehead, a love heart on one cheek and a star on the other. “You all look fantastic.” I smiled, and took a swig. “Yeah yeah, we know. Now c’mon, let’s go.” Louis whined. “I think I might know where this secret stage is.” “I know exactly where it is.” Zayn chortled. “In your head.” In protest, Louis began marching towards the entrance gates, shaking his head, truly believing, and also very excited, about this secret stage he had heard so little about but held all faith in. We all began following, not quite as excited, but people say it’s about the journey, not the destination, and that worked well here; because even if this secret stage didn’t exist, I was definitely excited to look for it. “You think we’ll find anything?” I asked Zayn hopefully. “I genuinely don’t. I’ve looked for it for years, and never had any luck.” “Well if it’s been a rumour for years, don’t you think it’s true?” “People have believed in the Loch Ness Monster for years, and that’s definitely not real.” “Have you explored the depths of Loch Ness?” I grinned. “I don’t bloody need to!” “No, mate, I’m serious, here’s the thing.” Mike began. “My mates mate has a cousin with a mate, who lives in Scotland, and he said he’s seen in ten times!” “Fuck sake.” Zayn groaned. “He just said he respects its privacy.” He concluded. Zayn was running the risk of ruining his makeup by stroking over his eyes with great dismay as Harry was trying very hard not to choke on his beer. Louis was well ahead of us. “With Louis’ determination and Mikes madness, we’ll find this secret stage in ten minutes.” I chuckled. But that was not that case. Hours of searching, literal hours. We stopped occasionally, to get a bit of food or to dance a little more, to buy drinks and to soak up the atmosphere of each different arena, but Louis refused to give in, and for hours and hours, we chased our tails, looking for a place that I too, was beginning to believe was just an urban myth. A few minutes before midnight, we all sat down against one of the stages that shut a little earlier in the night, all pretty tipsy, having still had a good evening regardless of our failure, and decided to relax a little bit. I’d never seen Louis look so disheartened. “I officially give up.” Harry sighed. “We’re gunna have to. It shuts at two on the Sunday night.” Zayn told us. “These are our last two hours officially at the festival, and I refuse to waste them.” “So where’d you wanna go?” Harry asked him. “It’s your call.” “I dunno, man. I like the tree arena.” “Treena.” Mike said to himself. “Okay, let’s go there.” Harry smiled. “Does anyone else need more beers?” “I’ll go see if the band left any backstage.” Mike grinned. He began crawling round from the front of the stage right to the back as we all absorbed where we were for the final few hours, so beyond content it was almost uncomfortable. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the feet that had danced and jumped on the very spot I was on, the bands that had performed their music on the very stage I was resting my head on. “Can we come back next year?” I asked. “We’re doing this every year now until we die.” Zayn smirked. “I’m totally cool with that.” Harry breathed. “I’m stuck with you guys til I die?” Louis baffled. “Meh. Alright.” “HOLY SHIT!” We heard from behind us. I bolted my head around in a bit of a frenzy, because the thought of Mike being hurt or in any kind of trouble made my heart stop. “MIKE? Are you okay?” I cried. “GUYS THERE’S A FUCKING TUNNEL.” Louis came alive. He went from slouching to being the stiffest person ever, his eyes so wide he could have convinced anyone he was on acid, which wouldn’t have been too much of a surprise at that festival. Zayn still wasn’t getting excited. “DON’T FUCK WITH ME, MAN!” Louis whelped. “I’M BEING SERIOUS! GET YOUR ARSES BACK HERE. HOLY SHIT!” Louis ran round before any of us even thought Mike was being serious, because I was expecting Louis to get to the back of the stage/tent and begin shouting at Mike and calling him a prick for leading him on. That wasn’t what we heard. “GUYS HE’S NOT LYING!” Suddenly we were all on our feet, darting around to the back of the stage, standing over all the wires and technical crap that hadn’t been packed up quite yet, and seeing that dead centre, in the back of the tent, was a small, round tunnel, leading to the unknown. Mike turned his head to us slowly. “The secret stage.” He whispered. + + + The secret stage didn’t close at 2am. When it got to 3am, I wasn’t sure it would ever close. The daunting thought of having to up and leave early in the morning, was not a thought that crossed any of our minds at any point in the evening. The lights at the secret stage were just pinks and purples, too transfixing and consuming to ever want to leave. We were pleasantly surprised by the amount of people who had managed to find the stage, because it was busy, but not too busy. Loud, but not too loud. It was perfect. We couldn’t have ended the evening any better than being in there. We were on top of the world, so much so, we weren’t really sure when to quit, when to call it a night. I guess our only signal, was that around half an hour before, Mike had been placed on a seat right next to the DJ, and he had fallen asleep. “Maybe it’s time to get him back.” Zayn shrugged. I had to agree. None of us wanted to outdo ourselves, and it turned out you couldn’t actually buy any drinks in the secret arena, so we were all actually relatively sober (bar Mike, I don’t know how he managed it) but it was good. It was like Zayn had said on the Friday morning. It felt good to be aware. It felt good to be fully in that moment, to be conscious and in the right frame of mind, to fully understand how wonderful the festival was. It couldn’t have gotten better. Crawling through that pitch black, dirty, smelly tunnel, had definitely been worth it. Crawling back through it, and trying to get Mike through it, was not quite as rewarding. Especially since a lot of the time, this being one of them, boys don’t have that maternal instinct and need to look after their friends. It ended up being me who had to drag Mike through the tunnel. “C’mon, Mike. You can do it.” “I could just sleep here.” He mulled drunkenly. “You’re in a tunnel.” “You’re in a tunnel.” He retorted. “I am indeed, Mike. I’m also ready to get out of the tunnel so, c’mon, take my hand.” “HURRY UP!” I heard Harry from behind us. “SHUT THE FUCK UP, STYLES! I’M WORKING ON IT.” I held my hand out in the darkness, hoping Mike would reach for me, and he did. I shuffled backwards out of the tunnel, thankful to get out, and then helped Mike up to his feet as soon as we were free, still the only one helping him stand upright as the rest of the lads started walking back to camp. “I love you, Pip.” He groaned. “I love you too, Mike. Now c’mon. Bed time.” I took hold of his hand, and we walked back to camp with each other, not able to catch up with the others, as Mike began listing off things that he loved. He loved me. He loved pineapples. He loved cups of tea. He loved the colour pink, but don’t tell the lads. He loved The Killers and he really loved Atomic Kitten. This list would have been fine if it hadn’t started raining again whilst we had been at the secret stage, and by the time we were finally back at camp, the rest of the lads had already retrieved to their tents, and I looked like a drowned rat. “GOODNIGHT, BOYS!” Mike screamed as he fell into his tent, Louis practically waiting with open arms. “Goodnight!” I added. They all said their goodnights, having to be extra loud over the rain as I quickly got in my tent and zipped it up tight. I took off my wet clothes immediately, and shoved them into my backpack, proud that I had been organized enough earlier in the day to pack everything away, leaving my tent almost empty. All there was, once I shoved my bag into the foot area of my tent, was me, and my sleeping bag. I tucked myself up and began thinking over my weekend, the ups and downs of my emotions, but how, even after all that, including the tears, I probably wouldn’t have changed a second of it. Nothing needed to be changed. The whole place was magical, and I hoped to take some of the fairy dust that was sprinkled on those fields, and on our faces, and bring it into my real life. I was completely still. Completely content. Then I heard a voice. “Oi. Pip-Squeak.” “Harry?” My tent started to unzip, and within a matter of seconds again, it was closed, and Harry was inside with me, shivering. “My tents raining in.” He sighed, sleeping bag tucked under his arm. “Do you mind if I kip in here?” I wanted to say no. That stupid pink tent was so tiny, having that proximity with him again had the ability to kill me off. So, of course, I decided to make a joke. “You sure you can stand sleeping in my pink tent?” I sulked sarcastically. “I’ll survive, I’m sure.” He rolled his eyes. He unravelled his sleeping bag and lay it out on my spare side and I tucked into my own a little more, very aware I was only in my tiny bra and knickers, then purposefully laying on my side so I could see him. He settled in pretty quickly. “Does your sleeping bag have a built-in pillow?” I beamed. “Yeah!” “That’s amazing!” “I know!” He nodded, deadly serious. “Can you believe the bloody technology we have these days?” “Do sleeping bags count as technology?” I quizzed, grinning. “They do when they have pillows built into them.” “Ahh. Okay.” I chuckled and closed my eyes, and it surprised me that this was the most comfortable I had been all weekend. I thought being that close with him would put me on edge, but it relaxed me. It made me so comfortable, having him there with me. It was familiar, something I hadn’t even realised I was missing. I was suddenly overwhelmed with appreciation that Harry’s tent was so rubbish.The only thing I wished, was that I had a sleeping bag big enough for two. “I’m sorry for being mean about the little pink tent.” He spoke. “The little pink tent is currently saving you from drowning.” I smirked. “I think you should thank the little pink tent.” “Thanks, little pink tent.” He obliged. “She says you’re welcome?” I giggled. “She?” Harry grimaced. “Well, this is the first time I’ve been inside a woman for quite a while.” “HARRY!” I cried. I pulled my arm out of the sleeping bag and hit him hard, which he probably expected/wanted as he sniggered, very impressed with his own quick wit, and how he was making me squeal. “That’s disgusting.” I concluded. “I aim to please.” He shrugged. As I lay there, trying to control my titters, staring at him, all I wanted to do was tell him how grateful I was that he was there with me. My weekend would have ended on a high even if I was in that tent on my own. Just having him there with me, making inappropriate jokes and looking smug, was making me so happy. “I don’t want to go home.” I whispered. “This should be a week-long thing.” He said, turning so he was facing the sky. “Hm. Yeah. I might want to go home if it was a week. Three days just isn’t long enough.” “I know, as well, that I’m going to get home tomorrow and just want to crash, and my dad’s will just be dying and screaming and asking me if I had a nice time.” “And what will you tell them?” I asked. “I won’t tell them anything. I’ll be asleep.” “Well, what will you tell them when you wake up?” “That I had the best weekend ever.” I wondered how the second year of uni would play out. I wondered if I would still be staring at him with the same longing eyes, admiring every single word he said, or if things would change, my feelings would pass and he could go back to being just Harry rather than Harry. It was just under two months, and I would be living with him, and Zayn. I couldn’t contain my excitement. I was practically wishing away those months. I just wanted to get all my things in that grotty little house, and start my new life with the two of them. I guess, in my head, it seemed like a fresh start. I was hoping I would have a fresh look on things, too. “It’s been a beautiful escape from reality.” I mulled. He turned back to face me, and shuffled towards me slightly, taking a deep breath in and seeming to calm. I felt like sleeping was crawling towards us. “It’s like a different world, isn’t it?” “Mm.” I agreed. “It’s like… nothing is real here. Almost like there’s… no guidelines. No... consequences to your actions. It’s just... a fantasy. Fiction. Like we can do whatever we want.” I definitely couldn’t do whatever I wanted. Because doing whatever I wanted would involve getting out of my sleeping bag and kissing him until my lips were stinging, until they were swollen and ugly, until there wasn’t a single chance any other girl would ever cross his mind again. That’s what I would do, if I could do whatever I wanted. I closed my eyes and looked down, trying to think of anything other than his lips. “Pip.” He whispered for my attention. As soon as I looked back up, Harry proved his desires ran alongside mine, as he threw himself at me, and kissed me. It was hard, rushed, racy. His arm captured around my back automatically so that he could pull me closer to him, practically dragging the top of my body out of the sleeping bag as I snaked my arms around his neck and moaned into his mouth. I was in heaven. His hands were stroking down my spine, his tongue was gracing its way into my mouth, my moans were real and alive as I made sure I was as close to him as I could physically be. I needed him. I kicked my sleeping bag off my body, and as soon as Harry had done the same thing, I leaped so that I was on top of him, straddling his beautiful hips and pulling his t-shirt off his body. His skin was surprisingly warm under my itching fingertips, so soft and silken. I felt like it was made to blend with mine, like only my hands could touch his skin and feel it for exactly what it was. I moved to kiss him again, running my fingers through the curls either side of his head, grinding my core against him, feeling him harden beneath me whilst he grunted into my mouth like an animal. “Fuck.” I panted. He flipped us so that I was on my back again, and without saying anything, he started to remove his jeans. That’s when I knew it was going to happen. That’s when it sunk in, that this wasn’t just going to be like the other times. This time, we were going to cross the line, we were going to explore a realm that had only been fictional before, because we were in a fictional world and we could! We finally felt as though the consequences of our actions couldn’t hold us back. Within seconds, he was totally nude, and climbing back over to me. He didn’t need to ask, but I could tell he wanted to. I decided to answer his question before he even had the chance to voice it, by dipping my fingers into the sides of my knickers, and taking them off, slowly, watching him watch me. He looked me deep in the eyes once they were off, and I just nodded. He knew. We both knew. He smothered the top of my body with his as he moved between my legs, kissing me so deeply I felt like I was going to pass out. All I could hear was the rain beating down on my tent, and our heavy breathing, and for once in my life it was all I needed. I just needed us, I just needed to be there. Suddenly, he slowed the kiss down, and pulled away, looking into my eyes like he could read every single word I had never told him. That’s when he gently took hold of himself, and slowly, pushed into me. I wanted to roll my head back, amazed by the feeling in my stomach, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. I had to look into those green lightbulbs to really let the moment sink in. Despite everything, I was finally feeling him fully. He began to move, calm and filled with ease and grace, still looking me in the eyes, his breathing all over the place, but I wasn’t sure I was breathing at all. I bit my bottom lip, and finally cracked my neck, letting out a moan of approval, and that’s when he seemed to calm down, and he really started to move. He began kissing at my jaw as he thrust his hips into me, picking up speed as his hands gripped at my waist. Suddenly he was harsh, quick, and with every peak he hit, he grunted, or groaned, or made any kind of noise that that sent my senses soaring. “I’ve needed you for so long.” He whispered. He began rolling himself into me as I pushed back up against him, gripping at the hair on the back of his head and pulling him so his lips met mine, licking his bottom lip as he granted me access again, one of his paws moving to my breast and the other gripping at one of my cheeks. He was kissing me like he had never kissed me before. I could feel his passion oozing from his mouth and seeping into me, filling me up right from my toes to the top of my head. We were so fucking close with one another, I couldn’t tell where his body ended and mine began. I’d never been like that with someone before. I’d never been so involved, so pleasured. I trailed my fingers down sweetly over his spine, enjoying the feel of his thrusting rushing through his back, the thought of how being with me was taking over his whole body and mind. He was completely mine. Once I had trailed down his whole back, I gripped at his bum cheek, my nails digging into the delicate skin, and it made him work even harder, beating into me and biting my bottom lip, before cursing to himself. “Fuck. Fuck, Pip. I need- I’m gunna- Fuck.” I knew we weren’t going to last long. It somehow felt as though we’d been taking part in months of foreplay. He moved his hand down to my clit, not losing stamina for even a split second as he began rubbing two fingers quickly against me, sending sparks of rapture shooting through my veins as I panted and moaned and writhed underneath him, losing my mind as soon as he was touching me there. “Please… Harry, I’m so close.” I cried. “C’mon.” He rambled through gritted teeth. “I need to feel you. I’ve waited so long to feel you-” He pushed deep into me, tongue buried into my mouth but never stinting the gorgeous noises that our intercourse pulled from him. He felt so good, so fucking incredible that I wanted to stay within that moment, right there in the initial stages of my orgasm, with his tongue tender and tough with mine. His fingers dipped a little lower, practically cupping some of my wet desire before he lift them back up, and rubbed those juice against my clit. I came with no more warning than that. I had been almost sure he could make me reach my peak just through certain looks, never mind when he was fucking me like I’d never been fucked before. Harry was shaking, just feeling me release myself on him like that was sending him into a state of sexual hysteria, thrusting even harder, his hand dragging up to me until his fingers wound into my loose hair and gripped onto it so tightly I cried out in both pleasure and pain. I watched the dull lights from outside light up the glitter on his face as he looked down to me, and he was just so consuming. He had pulled me into him and I wasn’t sure I would ever breathe real air again. In that moment, I didn’t want to. “Kiss me.” I called. So he did. Once our lips were in contact again, I could feel Harry faltering, I could feel him nearing his end, the way his lips were shaking, the way his thrusts were slower but quicker all at the same time. Then, when it was happening, I could feel him inside me, I could feel his body shaking as his lips stopped moving and he just stopped breathing, completely stopped. I kissed his bottom lip, and tightened my legs against his hips, watching him as his orgasm hit because of me. I just watched him, totally in awe. It was almost like a relief, when he started breathing again. It felt like it had been so long. He looked back down to me, his chest vibrating, then he nuzzled his nose against mine. I couldn’t help but show the joy that tugged upwards on the corners of my lips. He flopped down to the side after a short while, his chest still heaving after the workout, as was mine, but I felt fully unwound as I turned my head to the side and just watched him for a while, totally silent, just admiring the profile of his face, the way his jaw looked like it could cut diamonds. He was astonishing. Bewildering. “Unzip your sleeping bag.” He huffed after some time. “What?” I was still out of my head. “You think after that, I’m just going to get into my own sleeping bag and you’ll get in yours? No way. I’m staying on another planet with you.” “Okay.” I hushed. So I did what I was told. I grabbed my sleeping bag from the bottom of the tent, and completely unzipped it so that it was like a duvet, and spread it across the two of us. As soon as that was done, I turned to face away from him, hoping he would slot against my back and put his arms around me. But that wasn’t what he wanted. “Turn around.” He whispered. I groaned, but conformed, grinning because it felt so obvious, for the first time, how much he wanted me. I was willing to do whatever he requested. He ushered me into his arms, and we settled together, one of my legs draped over his hip, his butterfly against my stomach, my breasts against his chest, and his lips on my head. We lay in silence for a while, consuming our closeness, and what had just happened. I knew it might have been stupid, in the long run, but I didn’t regret what had happened for a second. I kissed his chest, silently concerned that Harry would feel differently. He soon proved I had nothing to be worried about. “This is perfect.” He gulped, holding me a little tighter. “You’re perfect.” I said accidentally. But I didn’t regret saying it, because the two of us were so caught up in the moment, I knew I could have said anything, really, and nothing could truly shock him. Then, on top of that, he was perfect. There was no denying that. “Goodnight, Pip.” He mumbled. “Goodnight, Harry.” We fell asleep like that, the rain still pelting down over our heads, the wind shaking our walls, and my feelings shaking my heart.

#o-fucking-kay #lets go #can't wait to hear your thoughts #BB34 #1DFF #Harry Styles

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keywestlou · 3 years

Text

SIZABLE PORTION OF BIG SUR WASHED AWAY

America has been blessed with many beautiful nature scenes. One is Big Sur in California. Officiously known as California Highway 1.

Many years ago, I was in the area of Big Sur to play golf at Pebble Beach. My tee time one of the days was in the afternoon. I decided to see the Big Sur I had heard so much about.

Rented a car and was on my way.

The coast of California near San Francisco and running through Carmel is one huge cliff. Not as high as those in Santorini. High enough, however. At least 1,500 to 2,000 feet up.

A highway was carved out which runs sometimes on top of the cliff and other times a road has been cut into the side of the cliff.

Below the Pacific Ocean! Majestic waves pounding the base of the cliff.

Majestic! Beautiful! The only way to describe Big Sur.

I was sorry I was alone. The drive is one to be shared with someone with whom you have a close attachment. Such is the mood!

This morning’s news carries the sad story that a significant portion of the highway has been washed away by a winter storm. Obviously that portion of the highway will be closed till repaired. Could take quite a while.

One last observation. There are very few homes along the way. Only nature in all its pristine glory.

Joe Manchin is Governor of West Virginia. A Democrat who seems over the years to have voted more Republican than Democrat.

Can’t blame him. West Virginia a deeply Republican state. Coal mining a major industry.

It was announced yesterday that West Virginia was a “vaccine success” story. Eighty five percent of its doses requirement received and used. Yes, 85 percent of West Virginia has been vaccinated.

Only North Dakota has done better.

Why West Virginia and North Dakota can do it and the other 48 states still struggling to get going, I do not understand.

The numbers reported were by the CDC and not West Virginia itself.

A civil servant in charge of the program said it was the result of “creativity” and “innovation.” West Virginia studied what was happening in the rest of the U.S. and came up with their own plan.

The State did not activate the federal partnership with CVS and Walgreens. Instead went it alone.

West Virginia is more rural than big city. The State went to the small independent drug stores. Many mom and pop operations. State officials thought such would prove productive. Obviously, they were correct.

The small drug stores went to the people’s homes and farms. They did not wait for them to come to town for a shot.

Many persons live 40-50 miles away from the big cities and chain drug stores.

One story told involves a mom and pop type operation with a couple of employees. They stored the vaccine in a special refrigerator in their home kitchen. Six every morning they were at their kitchen table figuring where to go that day and arranging the vaccines to be carried.

It all worked! God bless Joe Manchin and the people of West Virginia!

I would like Florida’s Governor DeSantis to plan better as Joe Manchin did. Every DeSantis planned program thus far has failed. Looks good up front and then peters out.

Going to run Day 6…..Greece the First Time at this point. Then return to some other news items I wish to share.

DAY 6…..Greece The First Time

Posted on June 2, 2012 by Key West Lou

Greece is a time bomb waiting to explode.

The people are unhappy. The financial crisis is choking them.

Economics is the topic of conversation everyday. Expressed with increased vehemence each day.

Riots around the corner. Protests already. The situation a tinderbox ready to ignite.

I was on my way to the Metro Underground beneath the plaza in front of Parliament yesterday. Thousands of people walk the plaza hourly. In one corner near the entrance to the Metro, several young people were carrying signs. One was talking into a loudspeaker.

Speaking Greek, of course. I neither speak nor understand the language.

About 50 persons milling about listening. I mingled in the crowd. I was able to pick up the gist of the protest from comments made by onlookers. Economics. The euro.

Listeners aroused. The name Merkle caused several to spit on the ground.

Recently, Greece had an election. Neither the left nor right obtained enough votes to control the government. So the Greek Parliament is floating along. The country in limbo.

A new election is scheduled some time in June.

Italy’s former Prime Minster Berlusconi announced yesterday that unless Germany backed off the euro, Italy should return to the lira. Germany appears the only European nation benefiting from the euro. The Greeks and Italians dislike the Germans. They feel Germany is being hard ass about doing something corrective regarding the economy. Whatever might be done would not be to the financial benefit of Germany.

Beware. I sense bad days ahead. Keep in mind that we live in a global world. Whatever happens in Greece and elsewhere affects us in the United States.

I spent 3 hours doing yesterday’s blog. I sat in one position and typed for the three hours. When I finished, my legs from my knees to my ankles were full of fluid. I went back to my room, took a fluid pill and lay on the bed three hours till the problem was relieved. Today I am getting up and moving about on occasion as I write.

I took the Metro Underground. It is a subway. I have not been on a subway since my senior year in college in New York City in 1957.

The purpose of taking the Metro was to visit Acropolis and the Parthenon. Way up a hill. Better to ride than to walk. One stop on the Metro.

A problem. The Metro Acropolis stop was still at least a mile from the entrance. An uphill walk. At a constant 30 degree angle. In the boiling sun.

Not my cup of tea. I had to stop not several times, but many times to sit and rest. As I sat, many passed me by going to the top. Many older than I. Some obviously infirmed. While Louis sat, they marched.

The first part of the return trip was a problem also. The initial path down was of marble. Huge irregular blocks. Slippery. Small cuts in the marble to minimize the sliding factor. I slid, did not fall. It was not easy.

The trip was worth it. I was a part of history during the time I was on top. Acropolis, the Parthenon and other smaller temples. The most stimulating factor for me was the realization that all I saw was constructed BEFORE Christ. Way before.

Acropolis a temple to the Gods. The most exciting feature of the Parthenon the columns.

The smaller temples had columns also. However, they were copies. Some time back, there was a violent earthquake. The columns could not handle the movement. To protect them from a future abuse by nature, they were removed and replaced. The originals sit in a museum at a point down the hill.

Two generationally different fat cats responsible for much of what has been done. Pericles back in the 400s BC. The Rockefeller Foundation in recent times.

All the buildings are fragile. Thousands of years old. Modern man is constantly working to preserve that which was. There are scaffolds and cranes every where.

There had to be a topping on the cake after such a glorious walk back in history. It came in the evening. Dinner at Dionysus Restaurant.

Dionysus sits at the foot of the historical mountain. About a mile away. It is a huge outdoor restaurant. Top self. Great lamb. Greater view. Expensive. Worth it.

There in front of my eyes on top of the hill sat the Acropolis and Parthenon. All brightly lite. Awe inspiring. The viewing emotional.

Traditionally Dionysus was the God of the grape harvest. He was also known as Bacchus. Party boy! Festivals galore!

Did I sleep last night? Finally! The first full night’s sleep since starting this trip. I hope the jet lag is behind me.

Today is my last in Athens. Tomorrow I leave for Santorini. I still have not danced nor thrown dishes around. Hopefully tonight. There is a little Zorba in each of us.

Yesterday was Ally’s birthday. Seven years old. I forgot. I will Skype her later and make up for it. I selected a birthday gift for her before I left and gave it to her. So I am only half bad in forgetting.

I know not what today holds. Whatever, it will be good. I am in a place where it cannot be bad. And tonight….hopefully dancing and dish breaking.

Enjoy your day!

Back to today’s news.

Trump continues to have lawyer problems. Big ones! No one wants to represent him in the Impeachment trial. First Giuliani and some others withdrew or could not accept the responsibility for various reasons. A new team of 5 came on board.

The five lawyers withdrew with the trial scheduled to begin 10 days from today. The reason was a difference of opinion as to how the trial should be handled.

Trump insisted election fraud be the top item. His attorney’s disagreed. The trial should surround impeachment issues and not whether Trump was elected. Sixty one courts had already shot Trump down on that issue.

I admire the attorneys for withdrawing. A doctor does not let the patient tell him how to do the brain surgery surgery he is facing. So too with the attorney-client situation. A competent attorney would do as the 5 attorneys did. My way or the highway.

L. Lin Wood is a Georgia attorney who brought several election fraud conspiracy cases to court. Each wherein he represented Trump in one fashion or another.

The Georgia Bar Association has now entered upon the scene.The Bar has asked Wood to undergo a mental health evaluation. Lin has refused. Refusal could mean suspension or disbarment.

Lin has opted to fight. He has taken the position he did nothing wrong, only exercised his Constitutional right to free speech.

Amazing isn’t it how many of those who have tried to help Trump eventually end up behind the eight ball.

What happened to the Republican House and Senate members who feared for their lives on January 6, who hid under tables and benches behind locked doors, etc.

With the Trump impeachment trial around the corner, their tune has changed. Poor Donald! He didn’t tell the demonstrators to do bad, etc.

Whores one and all!

January 6 reminds me of the Reichstag fire in Germany on February 27, 1933. Hitler inspired. The fire solidified the establishment of Nazi Germany. Hitler’s government became entrenched.

The U.S. is not yet entrenched in any movement opposite to what it has been for many years. However, it could be moving that way. People on both sides are aroused.

Sunday, oh Sunday! Will my home quarantine ever end? Some days I think it is getting to me.

Enjoy your Sunday!

SIZABLE PORTION OF BIG SUR WASHED AWAY was originally published on Key West Lou

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sailorgreywolf-legacy · 7 years

Text

Legacy - Chapter 31

America cut in yet again "Well you can tell Enrique that he was right to be jealous." Mexico smirked "Funny, but I think that he figured that much out. I'm not keeping our relationship a secret from him or anybody else." The blonde scoffed "That's not my point. He was jealous of me when he hardly had anything to do with each other. I can only imagine what he feels like now." Mexico didn't seem uncomfortable with the topic, but all the same, he changed the course of the discussion, "It doesn't matter what he feels about you. Anyway, Enrique isn't vitally important to the story yet. He was a distraction."

The blonde looked down at his own hand, which was still on Mexico's thigh. He seemed to be thinking back on his own experiences for a moment before saying "It is ironic that France assured Spain that the revolution would not spread, considering that he soon had a revolution on his hands. I can imagine that the French revolution freaked Spain out." Mexico replied "It was certainly quite the topic of conversation for a while. We were all wondering what it meant for us. I was probably the only one who could guess how it was affecting Spain." ______________________________________________

Peru laid another card from the stack down on the table as he spoke "Can you imagine it? The French peasants cut off their king's head?" Mexico had been hearing this speculation for months now, ever since King Louis XVI had been killed, every colony secretly cherished that moment because it proved something very fundamental to rebellion: That monarchs could be destroyed. Perhaps that was why all of them kept thinking back on it. Venezuela was the first one to respond "That's old news, last I heard, they'd executed Robespierre as well. It's pure savagery." It was unorthodox that Venezuela was the only woman in a room full of men, but in this case it was allowed simply because Venezuela had so much status within the empire.

Peru, Bolivia, Mexico and Venezuela were playing cards in a smaller sitting room, far away from Spain's ears. Colombia had decided not to join them once he heard that Mexico would be there. Chile had opted to avoid the gossip and was instead reading a book silently in another part of the room. He was still listening in, but not being required to give any opinion on the matter. All of the colonies were careful of what they said, after Spain's speech about revolution, they all feared that they were under suspicion and might be at risk for being occupied by the sizable Spanish armies.

Mexico made the next comment using a carefully sarcastic tone, "Ironic, then, isn't it? That such brutality should take place in a European country, when they claim we are the ones born of savagery." Nearly everyone around the table either laughed or smirked, except for Peru, who seemed to be predisposed to disagree, "Watch what you say, Mexica, you may have Antonio's ear, but that does not mean you can say anything. Don't you dare call Europeans hypocrites." Mexico smirked and threw down a card from his hand, "Strangely, you don't frighten me." The other looked down at the card for a second and then back up at Mexico, "Your arrogance will be your undoing."

Bolivia cut in, "Do you two ever stop fighting? The point of the matter is that France's revolution has upset all of Europe." All of them were well aware of the fact that all of Europe was worried, this had not been predicted, and it had turned out more violent than the revolution in the 13 colonies. Mexico had his own reasons to be worried. France knew about his correspondence with America, and as long as France was stable, there was a chance of the secret being revealed to Spain. Thankfully, no one had seen France since the revolution had started. All Mexico could do was hope that it stayed that way. Too much was at stake to let a slip on France's part ruin everything.

The topic of conversation didn't change, Venezuela was speaking now, "Unless this spills into Spain, which it won't, the French revolution doesn't mean that anything will change for us." It was quickly becoming clear that everyone was more interested in keeping tabs on each other via the conversation than they were in the card game. No one was winning; they were just shuffling the cards around the table. Mexico couldn't see any trace of rebellion in anyone else, which was just as well.

The game was interrupted by a voice that they all knew very well, "It's good to see that my colonies are getting along." Mexico was the one with his back to the door, and was consequently the one who had to turn around to look at Spain, who had just walked in. The Spaniard, rather unsurprisingly, was looking directly at Mexico. Peru made a desperate attempt to shift Spain's focus, "Holla, Antonio, to what do we owe the pleasure?" It was completely unsuccessful, Spain's attention was still fixed on Mexico, "I hate to interrupt, but I have rather pressing matters to discuss with Alejandro." The feeling of resentment that went around the table was palatable. Mexico didn't feel at all relieved; Spain's "pressing matter" was not likely to be a good thing. Peru shot a glare at Mexico before saying "Yes, don't you always? I suppose you want us to leave." The Spaniard wordlessly nodded.

The room cleared out quickly, which left Mexico alone with his colonizer. Spain sat at the newly vacated seat next to Mexico. The latter put down his cards face up, as he now saw that the game was over. Spain looked at them, "I should not have interrupted, you had a winning hand." The Aztec boy smirked and very deliberately uncrossed his legs. He meant to tempt Spain, because that kept him somewhat under control. He responded to Spain's comment, "Yes, but they didn't know that. What do you want to talk to me about, Tony?" Spain shifted the cards that Peru had left on the table, but he spoke deliberately, "I want to know why you refuse to dine with me at night. You have been pushing me away of late, and I want a reason."

The statement was true; Mexico had been guarding himself more to keep Spain from seeing the rebellion in his eyes. Times were volatile, and Spain would most likely be very vigilant, especially considering that Mexico had already been individually warned by Spain. He responded, trying to conceal his real reason, "I have told you, I have chosen to spend my dinnertimes with my fiancé." The Spaniard looked unconvinced, "That's not the real reason, and we both know it. I want the real reason, and I want it now." Mexico leaned forward, so he was closer to Spain, and said pointedly "I didn't want to force you to dine with someone you didn't trust. You think I am unduly influenced by the United States, and for that reason, you do not trust me." Spain understood at once and sighed, "I thought that might be the reason. You're mad at me for singling you out when I was speaking about revolution."

This was a test for Spain, how he reacted would indicate how suspicious he truly was. As of yet, he had not said anything revealing. The older man took a deep breathe, as though bracing himself, before saying, "Alejandro, I understand your scorn, but I could not help myself." He reached out and brushed his hand against his colonies face while he continued, "I have never been able to forget that Alfred touched you. The thought of losing you, to someone else or to revolution, is agony to me. I could hardly sleep, even when I knew that you were safe, but far away in the Americas." Mexico let himself lean forward farther, which meant that Spain's hand remained on his face. Spain seemed to be getting everything off his chest in the moment, he continued, "I need you by my side. I singled you out, because I worry most about you, not because I do not trust you, but because I would be lost without you. Losing you would destroy me. I think I would kill myself if you rebelled against me."

Mexico could hear the emotion that seized Spain's vocal cords, these were genuine. In that moment, it dawned upon him more fully than it ever had before: Spain was not faking any of his emotions. Somehow, over years of lies and boldfaced temptations, Mexico had managed to become precious to Spain, more precious than anything else. Nothing could be more to his advantage, the feelings made Spain weak. Mexico mirrored Spain's gesture and put his hand on the other's tan cheek as he spoke, "You know me better than anyone, Antonio. You know that I am not lying when I say that I am loyal to you and no one else. Can any of your other colonies make the same statement? So, you do not need to worry about me." Mexico added to himself You think you know me, Spanish bastard, but you are wrong. Spain seemed to swallow the lie, as he had swallowed every lie that preceded it.

The physical contact between them broke as the Spaniard leaned back. He changed the subject to the one that seemed to be on everyone's lips, "You can stop speculating about the French revolution. It is over; a man by the name of Napoleon Bonaparte has become the emperor of France and somehow managed to bring stability to France." Mexico asked the most logical question about Spain's statement, "And what does it mean to us? Will your relationship with France change?" Spain was much more comfortable with this subject and replied quickly, "Provided nothing unforeseen happens, me and France will continue to have our friendship. But Napoleon is a dangerously ambitious man, and he is at the head of one of Europe's strongest armies."

The Aztec boy responded, "Can he hurt us?" Spain nodded, albeit grudgingly, "If France decided to destroy me, he could. I am not as strong as I was, as you very well know. If he attacked, I would lose. I don't fear that, though, since Francis has no reason to want to hurt me." Mexico leaned back finally. He struggled to keep himself from smirking; it was all falling into place. Perhaps the flirtation with France would be worth it. Now a plan was forming, it would require a good deal of risk, but would bring the chance for independence that Mexico longed for so ardently. Spain had no idea that France could be given a reason to attack his old friend. Mexico now need only provide the proper motivation. _______________________________________________

France opened his front door to find Mexico standing in front of him, wearing a thick black coat to hide his identity to an extent. France's blonde eyebrow arched while his mouth curled into a smirk "Well, well, this is a visit I didn't expect." The Frenchman stepped aside to let Mexico walk by him. Once he was inside, Mexico turned to look at France. He finally spoke, "I am here because the winds of fortune have shifted, as you said they would. I have had a change of heart, as it were." France smiled now, just as Mexico knew he would, "I suspected as much." The blonde took a step forward and softly let his lips touch Mexico's. It was not a passionate kiss like Spain's. It was a soft sweet kiss. But within it, Mexico could feel that France was holding back. The Frenchman spoke softly, "You don't stop me from touching you now, do you?" Mexico responded "Of course not, this is your house; I will follow your rules here." France, if possible, was worse than Spain at hiding his lust. He smirked again and then licked his lips, "I'll bet you will. Come, I think I will treat you to some wine."

With that, he started walking down the hall. Mexico followed, being careful to observe France's movements. Once they reached a sitting room, France poured two cups of wine. He handed one to Mexico. At this point, France started to speak, "I did not expect this, right after I went through the agony of revolution." The Mexican boy took a sip of the wine. It was excellent, although somewhat mellower than Spanish wine. He took a step closer to France as he spoke, using a voice that was carefully seductive, "You are like gold, passing through a flame. You were strengthened by the revolution, not weakened by it." France took a gulp of wine, a single drop rolled down his chin.

He replied to Mexico's comment, "Perhaps I am stronger than I was not that I have a strong leader, not a weak king. Do you have a taste for French wine?" Mexico knew he needed to woo France if he wanted his schemes to come to fruition. France was being maddeningly controlled. Mexico was going to force the matter, simply because he didn't have the time for romance. He took another step forward, so he was very close to France. He licked up the path the drop had taken on France's neck. He ended at France's jaw, where the goatee made continuing difficult. When he pulled away, Mexico said softly, "I could learn to like it."

France took a couple unsteady breathes. The Mexican knew from the way France's breathing had changed that he now had France right where he wanted him. The Frenchman didn't speak; instead, he grabbed Mexico around the waist. He leaned in close enough to whisper in the younger boy's ear, "I see, you aren't one for small talk. You are used to Antonio and his sudden attempts at seduction. I will show you what true physical love is like." France put his own glass of wine down to free his hand that was not on Mexico's waist. The newly freed hand went to Mexico's butt. The pressure on his backside was not hard and fast, like it was with Spain. It was softer, and somehow more alluring.

France's lips worked on leaving a trail of kisses up Mexico's neck. The touch of the lips was soft as a feather. The touch made the skin of his neck burn with a sweet kind of lust. The Aztec boy found himself panting. France first licked the very inside of Mexico's open lips, and then kissed him. The skill in the kiss was undeniable; France's soft lips easily manipulated the younger boy's lips. His tongue entwined with Mexico's tongue. The Aztec boy didn't hold back any vocalizations; he let small moans escape his throat. France released Mexico's waist to take the glass from the boy's hand and set it on the table. The Frenchman used his hands to start undressing the boy, starting with the coat, which fell to the floor.

Mexico was not actively doing much because he knew that France, like Spain, was an imperialist and loved the feeling of complete control over a lover. He had no intention of letting France go all the way, but enough temptation must be offered. France moved one hand under Mexico's shirt, where he lightly brushed his hand against a nipple. He did not know about the tattoos, or else he would have used those too. France broke away from the kiss several times, but always returned with the same ferocity. It was a strange mix of powerful passion and softness.

France finally made a move to put his hand on the front of Mexico's pants. This was the point the Mexican boy had been waiting for. He pretended to have a kind of moral epiphany. He stepped backwards quickly to break all contact with France. The Frenchman responded with the expected surprise, "Was that too much?" Mexico shook his head and took another step backwards, "It isn't you. I would do this if I had the liberty. But, I don't. Antonio will know that I let you have me, and he will punish me for it." France sighed, yet again holding his composure surprisingly well, "Antonio won't be able to tell you have been unfaithful, I assure you." Yet again, Mexico shook his head and feigned emotion, "He will see it in my eyes. I can't do this while I am under the control of the Spanish throne."

The word choice was deliberate; it was supposed to give France inspiration. It did just that, France repeated, "Ah yes, the Spanish throne. It could be mine, you know." Mexico couldn't hide his smirk this time, he strengthened his voice as he said, "Yes it could, if you threw your military strength against Spain. Antonio is weaker than he seems, it would be easy for you." France took a step forward, closing the space between them. He seized Mexico again and relentlessly kissed the copper skin of the younger boy's neck. He spoke as he did so, "I will destroy Antonio. Then I can do whatever I like with his colonies, can't I?" Mexico responded with a single breathy word "Si." ___________________________________________

America said sharply, "Stop! Alejandro, if you fucked France, just tell me. Don't describe it to me in such obscene details." Mexico shifted his eyes to look directly at his lover, "That really depends on definitions. I obviously got pretty excited, because as we both know; France is very good with his mouth. So, I couldn't really leave in that state. He gave me what you Americans call a 'hand job'. I don't qualify that as sex. I won't describe that to you all the same." America looked far from comforted, as was to be expected. He bit back his retort though, because he knew that Mexico would call him a hypocrite. Instead, the American said, "I never knew you influenced France. I always just thought it was fate helping you." Mexico scoffed again, "You like to believe in fairy tales. A prudent strategist can make things appear to be coincidence, even when they are planned." The blonde man scoffed, "You're too clever, and it makes you dangerous." The other responded, "You knew that already. If I remember correctly, you like the danger in being my lover. As I planned, France invaded Spain, although, I was out of the country by the time that happened." ________________________________________

Mexico was asleep, but not soundly. It had been a few days since he had visited France. He was uneasy; he beginning to worry that France would not attack. His eyes were closed, but he couldn't sleep. He felt a soft touch on his face which woke him quickly. He let his eyes flutter open. He saw that Spain was sitting on the edge of the bed, softly stroking his colony on the cheek. Mexico had to restrain himself from reacting; finding Spain in his bed was not something he wanted. Spain noticed that the other was awake and spoke quickly, "Alejandro, I don't mean to unnerve you, but I don't have the time to wait for a more appropriate occasion." Mexico responded, still attempting to comprehend what was happening, "What's wrong, Antonio?"

He sat up so he was in a less vulnerable position. Spain was holding one candle, which lit up his eyes. Mexico could see worry in the flickering reflection in the green eyes. He suddenly had an idea as to what the problem was. Spain quickly confirmed his suspicions, "I have gotten very worrying news. The French army is marching west, towards our border, not east or North as I expected. France has issued me an ultimatum. I am going to send you away, so Francis can't touch you." Mexico knew it was dark enough that he could smirk without Spain seeing it. His plan was working perfectly. Spain continued to speak, his manner was rushed and somewhat clumsy, "I am sending you back to your home in the Americas. You will leave tonight. Take only what you really need. Take Philippines with you. I am also sending my other colonies back. When France gets here, I want to be alone."

The Aztec boy nodded and replied, "I understand. I will miss Madrid, and I will think of you." Spain looked desperate, but, all the same, he smiled, "I'll never forget the day I first brought you here. You were a willful child. I stole you away from a failing empire, and now I feel I might be doing the same thing again. But this time I am the one who is failing." The Spaniard affectionately put his hand on Mexico's leg, which was now draped over the edge of the bed. He seemed to be struggling to get the right words, "I love you, like a son, like a brother, and like a lover. All at the same time. I will bring you back as soon as possible."

Spain leaned forward, and was overcome by emotions. He wrapped his hand around Mexico's head and pulled the younger boy into a kiss. It was a clumsy kiss, full of emotion. Mexico reacted vigorously, kissing back as hard as he could. This was the last time he would need this trick. Once he was back in the Americas, Mexico could engineer the revolution. All the pieces were in place now. France would take the Spanish throne, and then even loyalist would come to the conclusion that it was time to break ties with Spain. Spain finally broke the kiss and said, "That will be the last kiss until I deal with France. I will taste your lips again, I am sure of it." The Mexican boy added in his own mind The next thing you will taste is my blade. With that, Spain stood up. He offered his hand to Mexico and helped the boy to a standing position.

Once Spain left, Mexico quickly gathered up clothing he would need, thankfully without Spain's watchful eyes. The most essential thing he grabbed was his sword, which he hid in a bundle of clothing. He woke Philippines and said to her simply, "Our time is at hand, Piri." She smiled back at him, "Your time and energies have been well spent then."

They both boarded the ship in the dead of the night. Mexico left with the knowledge that he would never return to this city or this country again.

#aph mexico #hetalia #aph france #aph spain

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youandidontbelieveyou · 6 years

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So I was going to add this story to another post but it was off topic enough it didn't feel right to add to someone else's story. But I still feel like it's important for my own mental health to share so I'm making it it's own post.

So one night after the rush at my restaurant, I was looking out the window at the street and saw a man and a woman arguing. It seemed like it was getting really heated, considering I saw the woman grab hold of one of our tree's branches and swing from it until it broke off and she started beating the man with it. He ran off a little ways and the woman came inside and asked to use our phone.

Now my boss has made it very clear to me not to allow patrons to use our phone, but considering what I had just seen outside (and it wasn't a safe area so I didn't want to just hand over my cellphone in case the whole show was a scam) I handed over our cordless phone and she struggled to remember her mom's phone number, before finally making the call. Once she was done talking to her mom, I brought her some water and through her tears she told me her story.

The gentleman with whom I had seen the heated argument with was, in fact, her boyfriend. She was a girl who grew up in California. I can't quite remember where, but I know she told me. She had met this guy at the bar she was working at and they hit it off right away. They were inseparable and madly in love. When her beloved was offered a better job with better pay in St. Louis, she dropped everything to move out here with him.

Here in St. Louis, she started to realize the one she thought she loved, wasn't really her night in shining armor. In fact, he wasn't even a man. Just some sick scum bag who now had her in a place where she has no friends and no one to turn to. And now she's going to frequently doctors visits because she "peed on a stick and it came up positive." He insists that the baby isn't his, despite her not knowing anyone but him for 6 months. He also keeps insisting that she gets rid of the baby, but from what she told me, the baby is already in it's second trimester. Which, if I remember correctly from health class, is too far along for the baby to abort.

I offered to by her some appetizers, or at least some coffee, before the boyfriend came into the restaurant steaming, and her still sobbing. She still had the phone in her hand, at least until he tore it from her and threw it across the restaurant. Immediately the bartenders ran to get the boss, who's a pretty big and intimidating guy, and the chef, who is bigger and more intimidating. And the guy sees them and walks out the door. Telling the girl to come with him, but she refused leaving him walking alone, saying he was going to get the car.

Everyone in the restaurant started relaxing, but I wanted to help. I asked her was SHE wanted to do, did she want the baby? She said of course she did. Previous doctors had told her she would never be able to carry a child, but here she is. With one inside of her. She told me sometimes she fantasized about just running away from her scumbag and having the baby on her own. Never seeing him again. But she knew she never could because he won't even let her work and earn her own money.

At the time I was only 19 years old. I had a recent broken engagement and didn't yet have a full understanding of the world. But, I was always described as an old soul. I knew things and had seen things that no one my age should know or have seen. I told her my apartment was dirty, but I had a pretty comfy couch and I could help her get a job. I also had a car that could help her get to her doctors visits, and food in my refrigerator. She stopped crying long enough to give me a tight and super long hug, which was interrupted abrupt by her sperm donor.

He was, calmly this time, telling her that he brought the car and it was time to go home. He looked at me, standing between them, and told me it was her 27th birthday and she was drunk, which I already knew. He said he needed to take her home and help take care of her and the baby. The baby that not an hour ago he was shouting at her they needed "to get rid of." I told him, in the calmest and least shaken voice I could muster, "I cannot let her leave with you. You are too drunk and heated and I cannot trust that she could get home safely with you behind the wheel. If after some time and clear thoughts, she still for some reason wants to go home with you, I'll make sure she makes it there okay." And he started grunting and getting heated again, and started trying to go around me to get to the young mother. No one else at the bar seemed to notice. But I was not going to let him get to her. Finally he stormed out and shouted at her "you better find a way home tonight, cause I'm not coming back for you" just before stomping to his car and driving away.

The young woman still refused my food offers. She started panicking thinking "how am I going to get home tonight? Where am I going to go? I don't know anyone! I don't have anyone!" I asked her if there was any way for her parents to send her money and the only response she could mutter was no. I also reminded her that I still had an empty couch and could help her get back on her feet, but the baby daddy got his wish. She had become 100% relied on him. I told her if she wanted I would let her sit at the table next to me until my shift was over then I'd drive her home, but she insisted she went home at that very instant. So I called her an uber so I could watch her journey home and make sure she got there okay. I also have her my phone number and told her to call me as soon as she got home, because douche nozzle had her phone.

As I watched her uber journey, I noticed something that made me freak out. She wasn't even a quarter of the way to her destination, when the ride had cancelled. I called the driver, but by the time he answered on my 6th call, he told me she was already gone and had gotten into a different car. My heart sank and I was relieved from my job, when I just sat in the back room and cried. I never got her phone call. I never got the numbers of her relatives who she was calling because our work phones don't show outgoing calls. But worst of all, and my biggest regret, I never got her name.

A year and a half later, I still check the news in the town I sent her to. Every day I look to see if she was declared missing, or even found dead somewhere. And as relieved as I always am not to see her picture, I'm more worried that she is missing, but her fucker doesn't care enough to go looking.

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louismirage · 7 years

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The Lucky One

They’ll tell you now you’re the lucky one.

Guys, a quick note before you start this chapter. I don't want to spoil this chapter but i have to warn you. There's a trigger warning for a miscarriage. Please don't read if its going to trigger you.

Fame was something Louis had always wanted. He loved music and he loved to watch award shows, wondering if someday he’ll get his very own award. He wanted people out there to listen to what he had to offer. He wanted to sing, to pour his heart out into a song in front of millions of people. He thought fame was everything and that it was going to be what he had always dreamed of. That of course was before he made it, before he got into the industry after being told No so many times. He never imagined that soon he would learn just how cruel it was.

He had trusted the wrong people, and after signing what seemed like thousands of contracts, there was no going back for him.

Now laying down on his childhood bed six years later, he thought back to how it all had started. It had all started exactly like he thought he would. At the end of the day he would always go to bed with a smile on his face. And when more and more people started liking his music and his fame started growing, he had been the happiest.

Lightning illuminated his bedroom at the same time he turned over on his side, cradling his empty belly. He looked up at the clock on his bedside table, that same one he had had ever since he was fifteen years old, and looked away when he saw a picture of him and Harry. He didn’t know it would still be there, and looking at it just made him realize how stupid he had been. He had picked his dream over Harry, and it was something he would always regret. But one thing he had learned, there was no point of regretting things when he couldn’t go back in time, he could only move forward.

He regretted listening to his PR team when they told him a boyfriend would only hold him back, that in the industry, a single artist did better. It had been the hardest thing to do, but after thinking it through, his then eighteen year old selfish self thought it was for the best. He would always say it had broken his heart to break Harry’s until he had understood that the only heart that had been broken was Harry’s. He wanted to call him for months after that, but in the end he had decided it was best not to hurt him more than he had already done.

But hearing people tell him he was so lucky, talented and that he was going to make it big was enough to keep him going. He had been nothing but selfish when he decided to fully focus on his career and never ask about him to his mother. His mother would always mention him, but it was rare when Louis always changed the topic. Now he knows he should have called him.

It wasn’t long before the PR stunts started and Louis was left confused. He had always thought one made it to where they were due to their hard work and the fans, not fake relationships and fake scandals. His first PR boyfriend had been a famous actor who had been nothing but nice to him, but that didn’t take away the fact that he was lying to his fans. He was told that in order to succeed in the industry, he was going to have to make some sacrifices.

That came with sometimes not getting days off at all, and not being able to see his family in months when his first ever tour started. But to Louis, seeing his parents so proud of him and being able to give them a good life, was enough for him to keep going. The stunts were tolerable for now.

His PR stunts continued and so did his scandals, but Louis had everything he could ever ask for. When he finally made it to Madison Square Garden, it had been one of his proudest moments, but after that was over it all seem to crumble down around him.

Louis stared at the ceiling as he remembered no matter how hard he tried to do his best and succeed on his own, there was always a stunt waiting for him. He lost count of how many clubs he had to go and promote. He lost count of how many men he had been linked to, sometimes getting called a slut when he wasn’t like that. The only time he had genuinely liked someone, had been five years later since he had left Doncaster, but it had ended in disaster when he realized he wasn’t with him because he loved him. Fame came at a price, and people only wanted what little promo they could get out of Louis.

The only good thing that had come out of it was that he could help his family out and the many charities he supported. The many organizations he and his mom helped around the country. It always brought a smile to his face and it made him happy to know he was doing something good after all the bad things he had done.

He tried to get some sleep but it was impossible with the storm outside. He kicked the covers away and sat up; he wanted a drink.

There was nothing else he wanted more than some sort of alcoholic drink burning its path down his throat. That was something else he had done wrong the past six years when he had started drinking more than usual, all in attempts to ease it up a little. All he had wanted and still did was something to help him deal with the bullshit that was his life on a daily basis.

Of course he would never stop being thankful to his fans who had stuck with him through thick and thin. The ones who could always see through the bullshit surrounding him and always tried to make it better for him. The ones who had supported him when he finally made the decision of quitting. The spotlight wasn’t for him anymore. He had finally had enough when his own team couldn’t even respect a life. They hadn’t let him mourn his child’s death in peace when two days after, he was already out stunting again.

Louis was never one for relationships after he had broken up with Harry. Hooking up with someone was rare for him when he preferred to be alone, until he came along. A twenty year old singer looking for the same thing Louis had done five years before; fame. The plan was just like the many others. Use him so another person could get that shot at fame. A new PR relationship was born.

Chad quickly became more than a PR relationship for Louis when they started sleeping together after a night out. They both had been completely wasted, yet continued doing it until Chad wasn’t just a fuck anymore. He quickly became more for Louis, someone the blue eyed man adored. Someone who Louis now had a relationship with. He wasn’t in love, but he really liked him.

His unplanned pregnancy had come out of nowhere, in the middle of a PR stunt to which Louis was sure it was more than that for both parties involved. Despite his busy life and career, the bullshit surrounding him, Louis knew he wanted to keep and raise his child. He wanted a family with Chad and their baby. But five years later, Louis’ mistake finally caught up to him. He finally felt the pain of being left behind, of that someone picking fame over him and his child.

Two months into the pregnancy didn’t stop him from moving on after his very public and nasty break up. He had his parents full support and was financially stable to have a baby. He had given up the alcohol as soon as he had found out he was pregnant and things finally started looking up for him. Sometimes his throat would burn and his skin would itch when he wanted a drink, but knowing it was harmful for his baby was enough to keep him completely away from it.

He still had to work like always, never getting a break until the stress was too much for him. He barely had time to eat, much less rest during those months. Louis knew that for them, money was more important than his and his baby’s health. He had to keep his pregnancy hidden as long as he could. He had to work and get things done as fast as he could before he started showing, then he would be able to go home and rest like he had negotiated with them.

The night it happened, he was supposed to already be in bed in order to wake up early for an interview. Going back to that night, Louis wiped his tears away knowing he should have known the signs. His mother was a midwife for god’s sake. But knowing them wouldn’t have been able to stop it. He should have known that when he went to bed that night, he was in the early stages of a miscarriage.

He had had back pain, but that was normal for him when he had it daily. Then it came the abdominal pain until he was severely cramping and he could no longer get up. He had stayed curled up in that bed, crying from the pain until it was all over. All in the span of three and a half hours. Louis had counted them. That night, Louis Tomlinson had finally broken down completely.

It seemed like hours had passed before he was finally able to get up and clean up what was left. He had spent a long time in the shower sobbing until the water was too cold and his mother was desperately knocking on his door. When he opened the door, it wasn't long before he was crying again, letting his mom hold him. The ride to the hospital had been unnecessary when there was nothing left to do. He had been sent home that same night with painkillers and an aching heart.

It was still too painful for him whenever he remembered. It boiled his blood when he had been forced to stunt again two days later when he had spent those two days in bed and refusing to eat. They had promised him it would be his last when the contract was almost over. And when it was, Louis decided to quit and go home. It had caused a scandal, but he didn't care when he just wanted to go home. And now that he was, the pain was stronger than ever.

His eyes filled with tears as he dug his fingernails into the skin of his stomach. Right by his belly button where a life was supposed to be getting ready to be born. He was supposed to have a month left then he would be holding his child, a child that was no more. He filled his broken heart with alcohol until he couldn’t hold it down anymore. He filled his need to have a child with baby pictures from the internet. And it was all so wrong.

He wiped his tears away when he had already cried enough of them. When the storm finally let up, Louis fell asleep in his childhood bedroom after many years.

He was up by seven that morning, when he had been desperately looking for at least a drop of alcohol. There was nothing in his mother’s house. He went back to his bedroom and changed into jeans and a sweater, then grabbed his keys and wallet. His mother had let him stay with the condition that he wasn’t going to bring any alcoholic drink into the house, but Louis needed something to help him soothe the pain. Painkillers weren’t enough anymore. Louis needed them and more alcohol, maybe mixing them up would help erase his pain.

He sneaked out of the house into the garage and opened the door to go to his car he had left parked outside. When he walked out he looked up and stopped in his tracks when he saw them. He knew Harry had moved on and that he had a child. The day he found out he had cried, but he had felt so much better now that he knew Harry was happy. Now he knew the tragedy that had happened, and he wanted to come see Harry but hadn’t done so when his mother told him it wasn’t a good idea.

He watched him give the small baby to his mother before he took her back and hugged her tight. Louis felt an ache on his chest when he was never going to get to hold his own child as tight as Harry was holding his own now. He startled when Harry finally looked up and made eye contact with him, even though Louis’ eyes went back to the child. She was the most beautiful baby Louis had ever seen.

Harry was fast to get in his car and drive away while Anne gave Louis a smile and went inside with the baby. Louis could hear her babbling to her grandmother all the way to the front door before Anne went inside. After many years of people telling Louis he was the lucky one, he now wondered who really was the lucky one.

Louis got in his car and drove away to the nearest liquor store. An hour and a half later he was back in his bedroom with a bottle of whiskey in his hold. He was laying on the floor right next to his bed cradling the almost empty bottle like a baby as he cried. He cried for having being so stupid, for wanting to be famous. He cried for having being so stupid and leave Harry the way he had done. He cried for his baby. He cried when he realized he had nothing good in life. He cried harder when his mother walked in and took the bottle away before laying down on the floor with him to hold him like a baby. Just like Louis would have loved to hold his baby.

After many years of people telling Louis he was the lucky one, he now knew he never was and would never be.

#Louis Tomlinson #LouisTomlinson #Harry Styles #HarryStyles #Larry Stylinson #LarryStylinson #Bottom!Louis #Top!Harry #Pregnant!Louis #Mpreg #New Fic #NewFic

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the-walking-memelords · 5 years

Text

Allegiances: Chapter 14

Series is rated M

Word Count: 4464

Mitch has a plan to stop Lilly for good, and Ruby has a plan to raise morale.

Read it on Ao3!

Read it on Wattpad!

As soon as the pair re-entered the safety of the school walls they split off from each other, Louis headed to find Mitch somewhere in the admin building, leaving Clementine alone to her own devices.

Clementine took the moment she had to herself to survey the damage. The smell of smoke and ash still swirled through the air as piles of charred debris littered the ground. Bullet holes from the previous night’s war dug holes into the toppled picnic tables.

Clem wondered what they had done with the bodies. She couldn’t bring herself to enter that basement again to see if he was still there. Dead or alive she relished in never having to see his face again. Yonatan’s crumpled corpse would have no doubt been moved from the hallway by now, dumped for walker food somewhere outside the walls. Then, of course, there was…

Marlon.

The blood had long dried on the ground but even without touching it she felt as if it would never leave her skin. The stain of her plan going to hell. Her eyes wandered from the crimson pool to the mounds of dirt aligning the graveyard.

One grave stuck out from the others. Grass had grown over the previous graves yet the dirt of one laid loose and fresh. The quiet whines of Marlon’s loyal companion broke Clementine’s heart as Rosie rested her body on the mound. Clem reached her hand out to the dog, letting her give it a sniff before she gave her a scratch behind her ear.

“Thank you for saving me.” She said to the dog as she ran her fingers over her warm rust-coloured fur.

Rosie gave her hand a lick as if to say “You’re welcome.” before leaving Clem alone with the grave.

A ring of golden flowers hung around the simple cross, the carefully twisted stems no doubt Ruby’s handiwork.

This grave shouldn’t be needed.

Clementine slowly sank to her knees as the name carved in wood stared back at her.

“I’m sorry, Marlon.” Sorry didn't even begin to describe how she felt about everything that had happened.

“I should have stopped this. You shouldn’t have died.”

Nothing but an eerie silence filled the air as she sat in silence among the graves. She didn’t know if he could hear her, or if he was even anywhere, but she hoped that somehow, he could.

“This isn’t going to happen again. I’m going to bring everyone home.” AJ included.

“Your death won't be for nothing. I promise.”

---

Clementine’s feet carried her a little too anxiously to her dorm room. Turning the corner suddenly, she nearly collided Ruby as the short red-head peeked over the pile of pillows in her arms.

“Oh! Sorry I didn’t uh… didn't see you there.” She nervously laughed in her southern accent.

“What are those for?” Clementine pointed out the tightly clutched pillows, trying to remain casual.

“I was… thinking we could have a fun little hootenanny before we go rescue our friends. To raise spirits, y’know?” Ruby truly had a heart of gold. Even with her face still puffy from mourning her lost friend, she was still here going out of her way to make sure no one gave up hope.

“Tenn’s helping me set up the music room I was just grabbin’ these so we ain’t all just sittin’ on the floor.”

“That sound’s like a nice idea.” A moment to distract them from tomorrow.

“You can come if you want.” Ruby invited, giving Clem a warm smile.

“You don't have to if you don’t want to, but y’know.”

“...I’ll think about it.”

---

Clementine leaned against the door as she closed herself off inside her room.

A party, huh?

The emptiness of her dorm felt more inviting. Perhaps it was no longer her place to sit among them so casually. Curling up with her dusty pillow alone might save everyone the awkwardness of her acting like a wallflower, picking at the vines that poured in from the broken window, or spending her time just letting Rosie lay on her lap.

I doubt they’d really want me there.

Clem ran her hands through her hair as she flopped back on her bed, the old springs digging into her spine as she bounced slightly.

I just need to focus on tomorrow.

Tomorrow. The day the fight continued. They get their friends back and then for the kids of Ericson’s, the fight ends. Clementine couldn’t bring herself to include them in her own personal rescue attempt. Even if she succeeds, when all is said and done, when Lilly has gone and AJ is by her side, what would become of her? Would the others really be able to trust her again? Or would they decide it best for her to take her little boy and leave?

Clementine squeezed her eyes shut tight, too frustrated to think of the tomorrows yet to come. The days that don’t exist yet. The days she couldn’t touch. The only thing she really had? This moment.

Who better to remind her than the boy who came knocking at her door?

Three calm knocks caught the girl’s attention as she slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes.

“Come in.” She said, barely loud enough for him to hear her.

Louis quickly shut the door behind him when he entered. Clementine looked at the freckled boy expectantly as she stood.

“There’s uh… something I wanted to talk to you about but I wanted to wait until we got back.” The boy’s shoulders slouched as he leaned against the bookcase, arms folded and face deep in thought.

“You saved me last night. You shot that raider I was fighting… but you saw them dragging Violet away, too. She needed your help more than I did, but you still picked me. Why?”

Louis’ words became weaker as he spoke, his voice growing uncertain with himself. By the time the final word escaped his lips, it was barely above a whisper and the way he slouched made it look as if he was trying to cave in on himself.

“I mean, I wouldn’t have picked me. Hell, I don’t know anyone who would have picked me.” This time his words flew out in a frenzy, eyes glued to the floorboards.

Haven’t I made it obvious?

“You were in trouble, too. I saw it and I couldn’t risk Lilly getting her hands on you”

God only knows what she would have done to him.

“You’re too important to me, Louis.” Their eyes finally met.

“I can’t lose you.”

Louis left his spot against the bookcase, pacing over to the boarded up window. He looked longingly through the cracks at the outside world.

“I know I’m always teasing her, trying to get her to do that one eye roll she does -you know the one- the one where it’s like ‘You’re such a dumbass’ she has to do a full-bodied eye roll.” Louis wasn’t one to be afraid to say how he felt about the people he cared about.

“I do it because when I do manage to make her laugh… It’s worth it.”

“We’re going to bring her home, Louis.” Clementine knew Vi was smart enough to keep her head down.

“Aasim, Omar, Brody. We’ll bring them all home.”

“I hope so.” The fear in his voice was poorly hidden.

“I’m going to make this right, Louis.” She promised.

“We sneak on, get the others out, and then I go after AJ myself.”

“Wait, you’re going back?” Louis spun on his heel, shock mixed with horror swirled in his eyes.

“Clem they’ll kill you!”

“I don’t have a choice. I couldn’t live with myself if I just let him go.” Her nails bit into her arms.

So many people died to get us this far.

I can’t give up on him now, not while I’m so close.

“He’s my little boy. I’ve gone through hell to keep him alive, I’m not giving up now.”

My little Goofball.

“Well, you’re not doing it by yourself.” Louis took a step towards her, lightly grabbing her shoulders.

“I’ll help you save him. We can bring him home together.”

“I can’t ask you to do that for me.” This final battle was hers. It didn’t feel right for her to ask any more of her friends.

“If they caught you and didn’t just shoot you, they’d do things that would make you wish they would.”

“Which is exactly why I can’t let you go alone.” He refused to drop it.

“It’s exactly why you have to.” Clementine knew what to expect, how to be careful. Louis had no idea what he was getting himself into.

“I told you, I can’t lose you.”

“Well, I can’t lose you either.” Louis slowly closed the gap between them, his breath just brushing her lips as if debating if he should or not. Clementine could only stand frozen, waiting for his decision as she closed her eyes. Louis gave in, letting his lips crash into hers. Clementine’s fingers gripped his shoulders, bringing him as close as possible as she melted at his touch. The two only broke away when their breath ran out. Clem sank into the soft fur of his coat as he pulled her close. A soft smile refused to leave her face as she felt his lips press against her forehead.

“Glad you didn’t secretly hate me.” She chuckled, a warm feeling in both her heart and face.

“Thought about it, couldn’t do it.” He rested his chin on the top of her head.

“It felt way too damn wrong.”

“You’re still not coming with me.”

“Guess we’ll have to talk about it later then.”

Clementine let the topic rest for now, but she knew she couldn’t let him risk himself for this. She stepped back from him. She couldn’t help but match the smile on his goofy face.

Dork.

“So, shall we head out?” Louis smirked as he held his hand out to her.

“Ruby could probably use a hand putting the party together.”

Clementine bit her lip nervously, still feeling uncertain about her attendance.

“Are you sure everyone would want me there?” Her chest tightened with anxiety.

“I mean, I’m pretty sure Mitch is still pissed at me.”

“Mitch is always pissed about something.” He joked, waving his hand dramatically.

“If Mitch has a problem he’s just gonna have to deal with it. You’re one of us. Nothing’s changed.”

She couldn’t begin to tell him how much that meant to her. All Clementine wanted was a chance to fix what she had broken, but it seems she had underestimated how much they cared about her.

One of them

Part of their family.

Clementine slipped her hand into Louis’, intertwining their fingers.

“Let’s go then.”

---

Ruby and Tennessee busied themselves planning decorations for their little party idea. The redhead held her hands up, framing an area she wanted for a banner. The two of them greeted Clementine with warm smiles.

They’re really not angry.

“Need a hand?” Clem smiled back.

“Sure, these damn candles have been givin’ me trouble forever” Ruby furrowed her brows.

“I wanted to light this place up all pretty but I can’t decide on a colour.”

Clem examined the three dyed mason jars in front of her, something about the purple standing out to her from the red and green ones.

“Purple was my dad’s favourite colour, so how about this one.” She carefully held the glass jar in her hands, the calming purple brought back memories of the small garden her dad kept in the front yard. The glistening jar held the same hue as the tiny petals of the flowers she helped him plant.

“I heard purple’s the colour of royalty.” Ruby enthralled.

“And that describes us exactly not at all.” Louis piped up with a snide joke. He leaned an arm against a dust-covered gramophone as he flipped through the record selection.

“This old thing used to belong to the headmaster. Dug it out so I’m not stuck on piano duty all night.”

“Got any classical in that pile?”

“A woman after my own heart.”

Hell yeah.

“Hey, Clem” A small voice called from behind her. Tennessee greeted her kindly with a paint can hanging from his left hand.

“Wanna help me make the banner?”

“A banner?” Tenn nodded to her as he held up part of a long sheet of fabric.

“I was gonna paint something motivational on it.” He spread the rough sheet flat across the floor as Clementine kneeled down next to him.

She wasn’t one for arts and crafts, at least, not in recent years, but the feeling of the brush in her hand as she swirled the paint across the banner was freeing in a way.

We’re bringing them home.

It was a simple message, but a hopeful one.

“I think that’s all I need for now.” Ruby confirmed seeming pleased with the plan.

“By the way, Mitch and Willy wanted to talk to you up in the office. Said they had an idea to stop them raiders from coming back.”

---

The door to Marlon’s old office hung open upon her arrival. She stood hesitantly in the doorway, lightly knocking on the wooden frame as she peered inside.

“Come in.” Mitch barely looked up from his spot on the floor across from Willy, the two of them fiddling with a suspicious looking plastic jug. The floor was scattered with open books turned to various pages.

Knowing Mitch and Willy that thing’s another bomb.

“Ruby said you wanted to see me?” She stepped into the room but kept her distance from the probable explosive.

“We were tryna figure out how to stop those fuckers from coming back after we rescue the others, and Willy here came up with an idea that just might work.” Mitch smiled proudly as he ruffled the boy’s hair.

“We’re gonna blow up the boat!” Willy cheered.

“We stick this baby into the boiler and BOOM! No more raiders.”

I fucking knew it.

“I’m noticing an explosive trend going on at this school.” Clem smirked with her hands on her hips.

“You bet your ass there is.” Funny how Mitch’s hobby seemed to match his anarchist personality. A trait that certainly rubbed off on Wily.

“Bombs are epic, and this little dude is a goddamn prodigy.”

“Aw c’mon, I’m not little.” Willy’s objection only earned him a playful noogie from the older boy.

“You’re shorter than me, kid, that makes you little.”

Clementine giggled at the exchange. A lighthearted moment in the midst of all this careful planning.

“Hey Willy, how ‘bout you go see if Ruby needs any help.” The younger boy caught the older one’s hint, giving him a nod before exiting the office.

Clementine felt her nervousness grow as Mitch returned to his serious demeanour. He gazed at the floor as he crossed his arms, letting out a sigh.

“I’m sorry.” His face softened as he looked up at her.

“For y’know… knocking you out, and tying you up. Everything felt so damn hectic I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I lied to you all, and your friend died because of it.” Clementine wished she had had the strength to tell them sooner, no matter how much the lies rotted in her stomach, the truth remained frozen in her throat. Lilly exposing her was something she kicked herself for allowing to happen.

“You had every reason not to trust me.”

“That doesn’t make it feel any less shitty. You risked a lot to save us, I get that. You had your reasons for doing what you did. Hell, If I had to pick between a group of strangers and Willy...” He scratched the back of his neck as he paced, gazing through the shattered balcony doors.

“I’m mostly worried about Brody. Like, if you just mention the possibility of someone coming to attack us she has a panic attack. I doubt she’s holding up okay.”

“I’m still going after AJ once we get the others back.” She declared.

“I won’t involve any of you, but once I get him back… Can… can we both stay here at the school?” Her confidence drained as soon as she began to vocalize her question.

“What the hell kind of question is that? Of course you can.” Mitch chuckled.

“I’ll even take him on as another student.”

“You are not teaching my kid to make bombs.”

Mitch shrugged his shoulders before kneeling to pick up the mess of books.

The sound of music drifting through the halls caught their attention, signifying the party had started.

“Go on, I’ll catch up.” Mitch waved her away as he continued stacking books into his arms. Clementine gave him one last thank you before following the music to rejoin the others. She hadn’t even arrived to Ruby’s party yet her spirits we’re already feeling lifted.

---

The elegant tune of the classical record she’d chosen blared from the gramophone, decorating the air with a graceful melody.

She caught Louis spacing out next to his prized piano, eyes closed, nodding his head along with the tune. His lips parted in a lively grin as his dreads swung with his movements. He seemed at peace. Naturally, Clementine decided to interrupt him. She managed to move closer unnoticed to the point where she now stood only a foot away from him. She raised an eyebrow, before giving him a light tap on the tip of his nose. The startled boy jumped at the sudden touch, his eyes widening to meet her mischievous grin.

“The party just started and you’re already half asleep.” Clem smirked.

“Please, I was just resting my eyes.” He gazed around at their friends, smiles adorning the face of every kid. The soft light of the candles reflected in his eyes as it bathed the entire room a brilliant purple, mingling with the moonlight spilling inside.

Louis slipped his hand in hers as they wandered to around the room, their bodies slightly swaying along to the music as they walked. She glanced back over her shoulder at the “potato” carved into the piano. It wasn’t exactly small. Clementine didn’t care if the others noticed it. It was probably pretty obvious to the others at this point about how she and Louis felt about each other.

The two said nothing as they moved with each other, clasped hands swinging between them. Louis twisted to stand in front of her, slipping a hand around her waist. The moment felt so whimsical, like something from a fairytale her mother would read her before bed. The prince and the princess dancing together as one during a grand ball. Though royalty they were not, no fancy clothes or pristine ballrooms, this moment was one she’d remember as magical for a long time.

“Alright everyone, gather ‘round.” Ruby set a bunch of steaming mugs on the floor as the others assembled themselves sitting in a circle amongst the pillows.

“I got a game for us.”

Clementine slowly sniffed the dark contents of her cup. The sweet aroma brought a warm feeling in her chest.

Tea.

“What kind of game?” The first small sip scalded Clem’s tongue but she didn't mind as she enjoyed having a hot drink.

“A guessing game. Since we’re all goin’ on this crazy rescue mission tomorrow, you should know who we really are.” Ruby slapped the top of a box stuffed with folders. “These are our official Ericson’s psych evaluations and probationary reports! Basically, all the bad shit we did to get sent here.”

“And all the bad shit we kept doing that got us stuck here.” Louis added.

“I’ll make sure it’s someone you’ve actually met.” Ruby opened up the first file and cleared her throat.

“‘While otherwise a remarkable student, Blank continues to be plagued with fits of anger, uncontrollable cursing, and repeated altercations with the senior faculty…’”

Well, that really narrows it down.

“Come on that's like, all of you.” Clementine could name three off the top of her head that would fit that bill.

“Hey, I am the most mild-mannered troubled youth ever.” Louis nudged her playfully.

“That’s Ruby’s file!” Willy blurted out in a fit of laughter.

“Holy shit, seriously?” Ruby always seemed like the mother of the group. The sweet one who looked after everyone.

“Our sweet Ruby here was... Kinda a nightmare when she first showed up.” Louis laughed nervously.

“She used to chase the adults all around the school. They were terrified of her.” Mitch added

“It was badass.”

“That was a looong time ago.” the redhead laughed.

Holy shit.

Don’t underestimate the nice ones I guess.

She sat patiently as Ruby continued to flip through the box searching for another file. Her face slowly fell as she flipped on and on, looking for someone who was still with them.

“I… I hadn’t realized how many we’d lost…” Her fingers slowed as she let out a sad sigh.

“Remember that Justin guy?” Willy asked.

“And Therissa. And Jasper…” Tennessee continued naming their lost friends.

“That one girl with the coloured braces. And Joey. Maddie. Lamar…”

“Erin.” Louis’ sombre voice seemed to struggle to find volume.

“She had the braces.”

“Alex. Dewey. Trey. Stephanie.” Willy’s list seemed never-ending as the names continued.

“Holy crap, how many of us died?”

“Thirty-two.” Ruby’s number caused the kids to grow quiet as the feeling of loss hung over them.

All the friend’s they’ve lost.

So many kids, abandoned for no reason.

Ruby had scrolled all the way to the end of the alphabetical list when she carefully pulled out a file of someone gone, but hopefully not lost.

“Whose is it?” Clementine’s tone grew quiet.

“Violet’s.”

Vi…

“Should we read it?” Willy asked with hesitancy.

“I could tell you my story instead. What got me sent here, I mean.” Louis interrupted quickly, turning to Clem.

“Only if you want.”

Why Louis was sent away.

The look on his face told her it wasn’t a great story. Most likely his deepest, darkest secret. Clementine tried to guess in her mind what he could have done to be sent so far away from home. He wasn’t violent. He wasn’t mean. He was nice and sweet. What could he have done to deserve any of this?

“I was hoping you’d tell me one day.” She gave him an encouraging nod as he began to speak.

“So, my family was stupid rich. Parents gave me everything I wanted when I wanted it. Except for one thing: singing lessons. God, I begged my dad. Told him I wanted to be a real musician. But all he said was ‘You get to be happy, or you get to be rich, can't be both.’ I know now that he was just trying to teach me some dumb "dad" lesson... but I hated him for that. So I decided I teach him a lesson.” Louis bit hard on his lip as he paused.

“I thought, ‘I'll break up my parents' marriage. That'd hurt real bad, right?’ So I broke into my dad's credit card accounts and made all these purchases in his name. Did this for over a year. This is how rich we were: he never noticed that he was spending a fortune on a mistress that I'd made up for him. But I made sure my mom did. Sent her all the receipts for the hotel rooms, the jewelry... all of it. They had a fight all night long. He denied it. She wouldn't have it. I sat in a corner and cried to help it feel more real. When their divorce was final... I told them the truth. I said: ‘You get to be happy or you get to be rich. You don't get to be both.’”

Louis’ eyes became glassy as he choked out those final words. Clementine sat almost frozen in shock.

He did that to his parents?

Louis always seemed afraid of hurting the people close to him. Always making sure they smiled and laughed, even at his own expense. Clementine now knew why.

“You know, those two would've been happily married forever. But then I had to go be a vindictive fuckhead.” His face contorted in anger, but only at himself.

“I came here... the week after”

“I can tell you regret it.” She said sympathetically.

“They told us we were bad people, Clem.” His voice broke.

“They weren’t wrong.”

“That person you used to be, that’s not you anymore, Lou.” Clementine knew he was just a kid who made a mistake, no matter how bad that mistake may have been.

“You’ve always been nothing but kind to me, even when I didn’t deserve it. You’re a good person, and I believe that whole-heartedly.”

The smallest of smiles appeared on his lips as if to say “Thank you”

“I’m sorry. This was supposed to be fun.” Ruby packed away the box.

“I guess I’m not really a ‘game’ person.”

“You said it yourself, Clem should know who she’s heading into battle with.” Louis picked at a loose string in the rips of his jeans.

“Hey, Louis...” Tennessee spoke up from behind the pillow he was hugging.

“Do you remember when Minnie used to sing us ‘Don't Be Afraid’ when we all used to get scared?”

“Of course I do. I helped her compose it.”

“Could you maybe… play it for us? If Violet was here, she could sing the words. But…” The scarred boy only grew more nervous.

“Yeah.” He said quickly.

“Yeah, I’d love to, Tenn.” His voice lacked enthusiasm but he moved towards his piano anyways.

Clementine saw him stare at their hearted initials for a moment before turning to the ivory keys. He ran his fingers lightly across the smooth buttons as he adjusted his position.

“This is for you, Minnie.”

The way he played was just as elegant as ever. Clem swayed from side to side as the notes filled the room A soft, gentle tune. A song written by a girl who once fought for these people, but now only worked against them. Surely it wasn’t too late for Minerva to come home. The Delta’s conditioning was brutal, but if Clementine could break free, so could Minnie. Right?

Soon the song faded out, the noise of the crickets outside filling the silence. Louis got up from his piano and rejoined the group, and picking up his mug.

“I think that deserves a toast.” He said, raising his cup into the air.

“To our last night alive!”

That’s encouraging.

“How about…” Clementine raised her own mug.

“To bringing everyone home!”

“Yeah… I like that one better.”

“To bringing everyone home!” The group all raised their forgotten cups, clinking them together as they drank its cooled contents.

To bringing everyone home.

#allegiances #fanfic #clouis #louistine #louisentine #my writing

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