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lollypopsx · 3 years

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Flatmate!Harry: I'll Make It Up To You - Part 2

Please like if it’s not too shabby, reblog for anyone who may enjoy this and follow if you want to see more! Any suggestions are happily taken for future writing! I love you all! be safe and be kind x

Warnings: Hints of depression and anxiety

Part 1 - Part 3

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Days had passed since the audition, and while you were sat on your laptop every hour searching for new jobs, new projects, more auditions and pure hope of some miracle, you couldn't help but starting to feel like you were failing slightly.

You liked to write happy songs and create stories using your music, but you were finding it harder to find the inspiration. Usually you and Harry would sit and talk ideas for hours, but since he made you miss your audition, you were distant from him, it was only the last day or two that you had been getting slowly back to normal.

Every day since the incident when Harry came home after working at the studio, he would open the curtains to make sure you had fresh air and daylight after cooping yourself up on the sofa all day, in the dimly lit living room. Not only that, he would check the cupboards, fridge and the sink to check that you were eating enough. He had seen you stressed and upset before. He had been there through some difficult moments in your life, and had always been your rock throughout the years, especially when your mental health was struggling during these times. But this time was worse. He couldn't help being concerned for someone he loved and cared for.

"Hey pumpkin..." He whispers softly, settling himself down beside you after completing his daily routine "Have you done much today?" he gently combs his fingers through your hair before dropping his arm round your shoulders.

You just sigh softly, looking ahead blankly at the quiet TV, simply shaking your head. If only he could see what was going on in that pretty mind of yours then maybe he could make everything better.

"I see you used the piano and the guitar today though..." he states, although it came out more like a question.

Minutes of silence filled the room until out of the blue, some words left your lips. "...Adam came to get the ring today" you whisper, feeling the tears brim your eyes once again, for what felt like the millionth time today.

"Oh darling" He frowns, pulling you into his chest tightly, just like he did the night you found out your (now ex-) boyfriend, Adam, was cheating on you. Unfortunately, you happened to find out minutes before he proposed to you, in front of all of your friends, including Harry. You didn't know what to do, so you took the ring, said you'd think about it and you left him standing alone. This all happened months ago, and you really thought that you was totally over it.

"Everything that's happened this week...I-I just...I feel like such a failure Haz. It just feels like I...I-I'm falling...falling apart and nothings going right! Why isn’t anything going right! I can’t even write one stupid song that makes sense" you let out hard sobs as your hands fisted his clean white t-shirt.

"No...no, no, no don't say that...please don't ever say that." He frowns, pulling away from you, but still staying close. His warm hands press against your cheeks as he lifts your face gently "hey, hey look at me" he whispers, begging you to look at him.

Your sad wide eyes flickered up into his, gentle tears falling down your face. "I know...I know it's hard at the moment. But everything happens for a reason. And everything will get better...I know it will. Do you trust me?" He whispers, his eyes gazing deep into yours, almost like if he looked hard enough, he could read your mind.

You give a hesitant nod as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before wiping the tears dampening your cheeks. Being affectionate together wasn't anything unusual for the two of you, you really were the best of friends.

"I'll go make some dinner okay? Pasta sound good?" You just nod your head gently at him as he leaves your side. You let out a deep sigh and head over to the living room window, watching the sunrise beginning to set over the busy London town. "So...how's the studio going?" You ask him curiously, your gaze still at the window.

"I erm..." He clutters around in the kitchen. His job was a topic he had been avoiding for the last few days. He didn't want to rub it in that he was busy writing an album for millions of fans, who would be screaming his lyrics back to him all over the world in years to come. "It's...good. I mean, its tiring but I...yeah. It's good" He nods.

"H, you don't have to avoid it. I forgive you for what happened. I know you would never have done it out of spite...and you deserve your life style, you work hard!" You say as you head into the kitchen, re-filling the water in the vase on the table, your vibrant roses and lilies still looking as beautiful as the first day Harry bought them for you.

"You work hard too!" He frowns softly "Harry I don't think moping around on the sofa, drowning in my sorrows, is the definition of working hard" You let out a gentle chuckle.

"So...how's it really going?" You hop up onto the stool beside the kitchen counter.

"Well, we have 4 songs so far...and they are...different to the last album. I mean they reckon three of them will be on the pop charts...maybe even a number one slot there" He sighs softly.

"Oh wow, that does sound different to before...and you...don't want that?" You ask curiously, judging by the lack of excitement. "Well...it's not that. I just...it's hard to write another album when the last one did well, and you have to make sure it's better than the last one." He sighs softly as he cooks. "They want me to write some slower, more emotional songs. I just can't...well the words don't fit right. I'm just not feeling emotional about anything, so I don't know where to get the emotion from"

"Well you can't put a price on emotion Haz, you can't just go and buy it in Gucci. You have to really feel it. Even if you aren't thinking about something specific or direct to you. I used to find that sometimes when I was trying to write, I'd create these characters in my head, and I'd give them all these different stories and personalities. And I...I used that to really help me write music. It's not easy." You explain while getting two of the plates from the cupboard and pouring two drinks for the table.

"You used to? You mean you don't use that method anymore?" He asks curiously, while giving the pasta one final stir.

"I...I think I've decided that I'm not going to write music anymore" You shrug softly, your eyes unable to life to his. "I need a proper job. And things aren't going well with auditions lately and I make a total fool out of myself every time I go into a meeting. It's time I looked for a proper job. Besides, the price of bills in this house keeps going up and up."

"What?! Y/N you're so good at writing songs and music! You can't throw it all away now! That is your proper job. And I love hearing what you write, it inspires my own stuff!" He frowns, his brow furrowing, trying to understand you. "Think of all the songs no one will get to hear"

"No one hears them anyway...It's different now. The entertainment industry is changing more and more by the day. Maybe the stuff I write just isn't as trendy anymore." It was difficult for you to admit, but you knew you had to accept it.

"There's a fine line between us Styles, because the difference is, you're already there. You have the whole world in your hands Haz, you can go anywhere and do anything. You could sing a song to a fish and the whole world would be adored by you still! If I did something like that...I'd be laughed out of every interview, audition and meeting for the rest of my life. But we’ll be alright" You smile and shrug, your mood had certainly been hit and miss the last few days, but you knew you had to carry on with your life.

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“Hey Y/N come here!” Harry calls from the living room. You were currently in your room, scrolling through your Instagram, while in a pasta coma after dinner. You rush over to the living room “What’s up?” You ask, seeing him sat at the gleaming white piano, which as always was sat under the window.

“What do you think?” He starts to play a few notes on the piano, looking between the scruffy paper notes cluttering the top of the piano and his hands.

“Can’t put a price on emotion...it’s something that you just can’t buy...you...you’ve got my devotion...but....but” He sighs softly, playing around with the notes and the wording on his notes.

You smile softly as you recognise his acknowledgment of your earlier conversation “...but man, I can hate you sometimes” you sing gently, testing to see how it could fit.

“Hey that’s mean! Why would you say that!” He fakes a pout up at you “I thought we- hey actually...you’re right! That really fits!” He chuckles, pulling you onto the stool beside him. “Can you try a G chord, B chord and....lets try a C...” You nod and smile as your fingers gloss over the keys effortlessly, while Harry fits the verse together and tries to find the right tempo.

“Wait...it doesn’t sound right. Maybe lets try a D instead of C?” You suggest as you re-try, playing those three chords over and over again.

“You...are...a genius!” He grins and wraps his arms around your waist. ”Keep going!” He smirks, pushing more lyrics in front of you. Sometimes having a fresh pair of eyes really helped...or perhaps he just wanted to prove that you had talent.

You peer down at the pages upon pages of words flooding your view. “...I don’t want to fight with you....and I...and I don’t like to sleep in the dark...we’ll get the drinks in...I...I can’t stop thinking of her...”

Harrys fingers join yours at the piano “We’ll be a fine line....We’ll be a fine line...”He smiles softly as he taps on a few random keys.

You pull your fingers away gently “It...your song sounds...really good H. It’s beautiful actually.”

“You mean our song...” He whispers.

“Harry no, it’s your song, all the pieces, I just put your jigsaw together” You smile. “I know how it is writing songs and the first draft is never the same as the final version. You might decide to change it all completely” You whisper.

“Not with your lyrical genius ability and words of wisdom...your name will be all over this track” You felt a shock of electricity ripple through your veins as you felt his eyes burning into yours. His lips pressed gently against your forehead, lingering against your skin longer than usual. That sort of affection was normal from your best friend...so why did it just feel like something completely different? And what did he mean about my name being all over the track?

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Tag List: @harryhoney-bee - @sunandherflores - @sad-capuccino

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #one shot #hslot #flatmate!harry #roommate!harry #fine line #lollypopsx #fanfic #imagine #request #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #Harry styles fluff

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thegirlwhowritesawksh-t · 3 years

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point of no return (georgenotfound x f!reader)

author: me! @thegirlwhowritesawksh-t

word count: 3.6k +

warnings: maybe a bit of angst, hella fluff? if there’s any you think you see, let me know!

A/N: first off: hi guys! this is my first fic ever (i’m a noob lmao), so please be gentle! i am in the process of writing some more about whoever I feel like simping for next... probably still George, mi amor *kisses* and second: to whoever’s reading this: stay hydrated, smile and laugh! let me know what y’all think! *sending besitos to y’all :))

Sometimes it was hard to find the words to say I like you, much less, “I love you”. For (y/n), it was easy to say it to anyone. Friends, family, ex boyfriends. Everyone. Everyone but him. Pacing across her room in the flat she shared with George, all she could feel were her nerves on edge. Down the hall, in his own room engaging in a do not laugh match with Dream in Minecraft, George sits oblivious to the predicament (y/n) has currently placed herself in.

Her phone chimes with an incoming text from the man invading her thoughts -

GogyBogy: just about to finish up with Dream. movie night? your choice?

She can’t help but let out a soft scoff, but smiled and typed a yes back, slowly getting ready to head downstairs to make the popcorn and pull out the assortment of films to decide to watch.

It’s not like she knew that she was attracted to him the whole time. It had only been recently, when George decided to attempt a cooking stream, and all she could do was focus on how he had spent time looking for the best outfit for the stream.

“I have to look like I know what I’m doing, you know, I’m Chef George!”, letting out a giggle as he perfects his outfit. Maybe it was how he looked in his outfit, or maybe it was how his hair looked soft to run her hands through. One thing she knew for sure: like a shit ton of bricks, she was over the moon for him, and she just realized that now.

Since her earth-shattering realization, (y/n) has tried her best to remain cool and collected around George. There have been a few mishaps, though. One incident in mind merely happening just this morning. >>>

Cooking eggs in a skillet, (y/n) hums lyrics to a popular song, eyes closing every so often fighting to stay awake. Finding plates for two, she starts to flip the eggs, humming louder each passing minute, only loud enough to fill the empty room. Lost in the focus to flipping the eggs, she fails to notice George trudging in, pulling another late night editing videos for his YouTube channels.

“Isn’t it a bit early to be singing?” George mumbles, as she pauses mid-song. “How else am I to wake? It’s either I hum, or I blast some album full blast on Spotify. Want to listen to One Direction then? They have the Best Song Ever” (y/n) chuckles.

“Touché”. He remarks, (y/n) laughs and deciding that the eggs are fully cooked, she plates them, and adds garnish, consisting of pepper and a pinch of salt.

“Do you want tea?” (y/n) asks, as George responds with a yes.

“Can you get the mugs then? I’ll start heating water in the kettle” she asks as she starts looking for the kettle.

“Mugs are already on the table, and I’ve just grabbed the kettle. Let me do it, you’ve made breakfast this morning.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m right here already- “ (y/n) says as George quickly moves to the sink, filling up the kettle with water. “Don’t worry! I am an expert on making tea, (y/n)” George states, with a scoff rolling off of (y/n)’s lips.

“Right, and I’ll be the next Queen of England” she snorts, finally pleased with her creation. Turning around to put the finished masterpiece on the table, she jumps back realizing that George is right in front of her.

“What the heck!?” she asks as she’s still balancing the two plates on her hands. George only stifles a small smile.

“I told you, I’ll make the tea”, he replies. (y/n) opens her mouth to object with something snarky when all thoughts have gone out the window.

George, in the midst of heating the kettle, leans forward unconsciously holding onto (y/n)’s waist, as he reaches behind her to place the kettle on the burner next to the previously used skillet. Not only does she feel him grasping her waist, it then emphasizes that she’s trapped between the stove and George. So much for avoiding feelings, (y/n) thought.

He returns to his previous position, not yet letting go of (y/n)’s waist. Whether it be on purpose or on accident, (y/n) couldn’t tell for the life of her, she was focused on not dropping the plates of eggs. (y/n) then quirks an eyebrow, as if questioning why he’s still in front of her, holding her waist. George can only look back at her in confusion, eyebrows furrowing.

“I didn’t think you were clumsy to the point you decided to hold onto me”, (y/n) mutters as George’s eyes widen, hand dropping to his side as quick as he placed his hand on (y/n)’s waist. Just as quick as he dropped his hand, (y/n) felt immediate loss on what seems to be like her burning waist.

(y/n) can’t help but look down at the plates of eggs, no doubt that they started to cool off before she glances at his hand. The hand that held her, of course. Cheeks blushing, she attempts to side step at the same time as he does. He laughs and tries to side step in the opposite direction, yet she can’t help but make the same mistake again. Hearing George giggle at the latest mishap, (y/n) tears her eyes away from his hand the eggs to look up at him.

Her breath once again hitches at the close proximity between the two. She can’t help but glance at his hair, smiling at how messy his waves look. Looking lower, she stares at his eyes, his eyes staring back with humor, probably to their blunders only moments ago. With eyes slowly decreasing of crinkles, he takes a small breath, just pausing as he looks at (y/n) with renewed curiosity. (y/n) slowly starts to glance even lower, settling at just his lips. She sees words coming out of his mouth, yet she’s zoned into the idea if her lips would mesh well with his. Maybe it’s her imagination, but George seems to pause and reciprocate the idea of looking at (y/n)’s lips, licking his bottom lip slightly to ease the dryness that seemed to fill the air.

Minds contemplating, (y/n) decides to inch her face closer to George, with George seeming to think the same. - Just a few more milli-

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH! The tea kettle whistles and George immediately jumps back, at a loss for words. Embarrassed at his sudden action, (y/n) hangs her head down, and mumbles out,

“I- I uh think I’ll have the tea later. Enjoy your breakfast. Wait, lun-, oh whatever”, (y/n) rushes out as she speed-walks to her room, with both cold plates of eggs, sweaty hands, and a confused George still holding onto the tea kettle, seemingly at odds with what just happened.

>>>

Maybe I’m just going crazy, (y/n) thought as she starts to heat up the popcorn. Quarantine is still in effect, and it has been a while since she’s seen other people. She’s only seen George and George only. Not that she minds, of course. With a sigh, she turns to the microwave, running her thoughts back to this morning, lost in her thoughts. Were we about to...?

“(y/n)!” George whispers. She whips her head around to see George standing in the doorway leading to the living room, a faint glow of yellow behind him. “Yes?” (y/n) asks as she takes the popcorn out of the microwave, cursing as she burns her hand on the paper bag.

“Isn’t it your choice tonight to decide on a movie?” He ponders, walking towards (y/n), her taking an instinctive step back. George raises an eyebrow but doesn’t question the sudden movement.

“I think so. How do you feel about Harry Potter?”

“Oh, come on! We watched Deathly Hallows Pt. 2 when you chose last time!” George groans as (y/n) moves past him into the living room, dead set on the film.

“So, we can start over again! Sorcerer’s Stone it is!”

“I don’t see how this- “ “George, please?”

Taking a moment to glance at (y/n), DVD in one hand, the other wrapped around her waist, George mutters a yes as she begins to put in the film.

“If we watch this, you’re playing Minecraft next time on stream”, he grumbles, grabbing a blanket to wrap around his body before settling onto the three-seater couch.

“I mean I suppose so…” (y/n) chuckles, grabbing another blanket and settles onto the couch. Only as she sat down did she realize she’s sitting in the middle of the couch, George sitting to the right of her.

“Didn’t we decide that you would sit on the left end of the couch and I would be at the other end, since you kick, and I tend to shuffle around a lot?” George smirks.

“I- “ (y/n) pauses. It’s true, she thought. She assumes she was happy choosing the film, that she decided to plop down beside him. Or so she thought. After taking a minute, she sighs and replies,

“Would you like me to mo- “ “No! It’s fine! Just unusual is all.” George says quietly.

“I can move if you want me to. I don’t have cooties, but I can move if you’d like.” (y/n) mumbles. Her heart slowly starts to beat faster with each passing second as silence begins to fill the room, the only light being the t.v. radiating in the background. Don’t make me move, George, (y/n) prays inside her thoughts.

After about a minute, George shakes his head.

“It’s fine. Sit!” He chuckles, before settling deeper into his spot. (y/n) breathes out a sigh of relief, thanking the heavens for him not noticing how much she’s blushing.

I’m fine, it’s just George, (y/n) repeats inside her head, no doubt failing. The movie begins to play, and (y/n) feels all of her worries fade away, smiling at watching her favorite childhood movie again. Relaxing deeper into the couch, her mind wanders back to the earlier memory of this morning again. Mind going numb with endless ideas, she failed to notice George’s arm tucked behind her head absentmindedly pulling her strands of her hair. He moves his hand slowly down to rest on her left shoulder, rubbing endless amounts of shapes, searing the imprint of warmth. Chest tight, she realizes the state she’s in with George, feeling the pressure raise higher as his hand remains there. (y/n) starts to sit frigidly, as if one wrong movement could set off dominoes. In this case, another awkward situation with the man she’s found herself lost for.

Where are we even in the movie? Really? Harry going to the zoo? Holy- (y/n)’s thoughts pause as George softly grips her shoulder - with her tensing up even more - before removing his hand to rest at his side, and (y/n) blushing at the sudden loss of contact. Cursing at her awkward being, she starts to readjust, hoping that George wouldn’t notice how wound up she is all from him. All from a shoulder touch, and she’s fully convinced she won’t ever recover from the man that is shy, sweet, confusing George. Still readjusting herself on the couch, she manages to cross her legs under her, holding onto George’s left thigh. Eyes wide, feeling George tense up, she manages to turn her head a bit to the side, to see George’s gaze on his thigh. (y/n) retracts her hand away.

“Sorry, you know how long these movies are…”, she mutters, cheeks flushing at the close contact. George can only cough and nod as he tries to focus back into the movie. I don’t know how much longer I can take this, (y/n) repeats into her head, trying to zone back into the movie.

>>>

How (y/n) was able to watch half of the movie without dying of embarrassment, she did not know. But she was thankful to appear normal in front of him, or so she would hope. Rigid with each movement, she felt scared making a move with the worry that she’d cause an uncomfortable situation. Yet, her head thought otherwise. I think I’d do just about anything for his warmth on me again, even if it’s just his hand on my shoulders, (y/n) thought.

The Golden Trio met Fluffy for the first time, and all (y/n) could think about (besides the man next to her) was going to Hogwarts, wishing it was real. The spells, the robes, Quidditch, everything about the universe has always called out to (y/n), and all she could do was endlessly hope it could potentially be a reality, even if she did look foolish for believing in that. George managed to discreetly glance to the side and see her dazed eyes zeroed onto the screen, and mouth moving to quote each line. All he could do was stare in awe, of her knowledge of this magical world, her persistence to memorizing each spell, and how there seemed to be a basking glow upon her figure. She looked like heaven, the epitome of warmth. What (y/n) couldn’t see was that he too, was enamored with her as she was with him.

George had an idea to test the waters. If she responded, he would continue. If she didn’t, he’d forget all about it and attempt to move on from the woman he was sure was the one. (y/n) saw from the corner of her eyes that George readjusted himself that while he was sitting casually beside her, he lowered his hand to rest on his thigh. Heart still stuttering, she lowers her eyes realizing that her thigh is directly next to his, mere millimeters from touching.

Rigid, she sits straight up, unintentionally knocking her thighs into George. She stares at their thighs, chuckles a bit and struggles to watch the movie again, knowing her thigh is definitely touching his thigh. With arms crossed against her waist, she can’t help but watch his hand in the mere hopes that it would ‘accidentally’ brush her thigh.

As she keeps her eye contact on his hand, George begins to tap his pinky finger on his thigh. He taps, wiggles, slides his pinky with his hand still resting on his thigh. While still resting his hand, he slowly starts to move his hand to the left, making it that his hand sat on part of his thigh, and the other part was on top of (y/n)’s thigh, starting to shyly tap his pinky on her thigh. Letting out a gasp, (y/n) could only freeze at his hand - no his pinky - tapping her thigh, and it’s already turning her into a nervous mess. What the hell is he doing to me?, (y/n) asks to herself.

If you go down this route, it’s past the point of no return…

But it’s worth it…

How can you even be sure if he feels the same?

(y/n) can’t help but engage in a battle with her thoughts before finally coming to a decision.

Yes.

With bated breath, she slowly moves her hands to rest on top of her thigh, the hand closest to George shaking slightly. With a bit more confidence, she begins to move her right pinky on her thigh, moving in contradicting patterns, just barely touching George’s thigh. Soon enough, their pinkies start to move in sync, and (y/n) can’t help but bask in his warmth, even if it’s just his pinky. So used to his pinky against hers, (y/n) eventually hooks her pinky against his, effectively stopping their movements.

George lets out a huff of air, and (y/n) freezes, overthinking that she went too far. A full two minutes pass, only hearing Harry Potter finding the Mirror of Erised, and silence from George himself. Getting ready to back off, she releases a breath and begins to retract her hand from George.

“Okay, I’ll just- “

George shuts her up with his hand on top of hers, effectively placing his hand of top of their thighs. He then releases a shuddering breath, only to be met with complete silence. (y/n) looks at their thighs, then their hands, then George, back to the movie, to him again. She starts to find the words, only to come out with nothing. What can come out of her mouth besides, your heart is all I need.

Taking a minute to regain her composure, she lowers her guard, opening her hand so slightly that his fingers fill in the spots in-between hers. With a soft smile, he slowly grips her fingers, starting to rub her thumb with his.

“I don’t think you understand how long I’ve wanted to hold your hand,” George mutters quietly, as if he were to speak any louder, he’d shatter the moment, whatever this moment is.

“And you think I haven’t?” (y/n) asks.

“I didn’t say that,” George pauses. “How would I know? There weren’t any signals, no signs or hints, (y/n).”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed, George. I’m always scared of messing up around you now. I can’t breathe, knowing that we breathe the same air. And how do you think I feel about us living under the same roof? I have to stop myself from tearing my hair out and- and stomping over to your room and just… confess. I’ve become desperate for your touch, yet I’m scared that if we pass that boundary, you wouldn’t feel the same! I mean, look at this morning, y- you- we almost kissed and you didn’t say anything! I assumed you just thought it was nothing, and we’d work past it. How is it not obvious that I’m in love with you!?” (y/n) blurts out, ripping her hand away from his, only for him to grip her hand again. Despite the nerves in her veins, she can’t help but relish in his hand still holding hers.

“Can you tell that my hands are shaking? Because they are, (y/n). Is it obvious that I don’t know what to do in situations like this? All I know is that just one look at you, I fall apart. I-I-I can’t begin to count all the times I’ve wanted to hold your hand. And that’s just holding your hand. Kissing you, calling you my Love, Darling, my Everything? I don’t know what else to say except that I fall apart from you. Everything you do makes me scared and I have no idea what to do, because I am just now realizing how much I adore you.” George confesses. (y/n) can only stare back with adoration, yet confusion swirling in her thoughts.

“You know, I can tell everyone how I feel. I love my mom, I love my sister, I love pets, I love One Direction, for gods’ sake! Yet if I say that to you… why is it that I feel like I would break apart? Saying those three words to you just confirms that I am so hopelessly in love with you, and anxious to tell you to be mine. Screw it, I want you to be mine, I’ve been yours. I am yours. I want everything and anything with you, and all I need is a yes. A yes from you is it for me.” (y/n) replies.

“I’m not good with my feelings, expressing them, especially with this. There’s no turning back.”

“Stop giving excuses.” She scoffs.

“I’m not. I’m giving you a way out. In the case that one day, you might not think that I am enough for you.”

“Who said you weren’t? You’re everything to me.” (y/n) says, and George whips his head up to face her. She continues on,

“I’m ready to be yours. Hell, I am yours. I-I can’t even begin to say how much I- “ “Love you. I love you, (y/n).” George blurts out, hands still grasping hers. Gasping, she takes a deep breath, finally ready to succumb to her desires.

“I love you, George.” (y/n) admits. George closes his eyes and softly smiles, before opening his eyes and looking back at (y/n). Now when he’s looking at her, does (y/n) realize how reciprocated her love for him was. Raising their conjoined hands to her face level, she places a kiss to his hands, with George releasing a heavy breath at the intimate action. With a smile, she lets go of his hands, George whining at the loss of contact of her hands.

“I think you’ll like this more.” (y/n) laughs. Slowly, she brings up her hands to cup his face, George immediately melting into her touch. With his head leaning towards one hand, he raises his hands to rub hers once more.

“You really like my hands, huh?” (y/n) remarks.

“They’re officially mine to hold. So, a short answer would be yes.” George smirks as (y/n) hums in content, feeling his stubble tickle the inside of her hands.

Grasping his face, (y/n) slowly tears her gaze away from his eyes to focus onto his lips, and for the first time, there’s a clear sign that he’s feeling the same. They both look at each other one last time, fully taken with one another, the space between them reducing by millimeters.

This is-

Finally capturing her lips, George shivers as (y/n) gasps into their kiss. Maybe he’s the heaven I’ve imagined. Perfection, (y/n) thought. After what seems to be minutes of giving into their desires, they pull back, chests heaving. George’s lips swollen, (y/n) can’t help but steal another kiss, earning a chuckle from George.

“I love you. You’re it for me. I- I love you” (y/n) repeats. George smiles for what seems to be the millionth time that day and says,

“I love you, (y/n). I- I am yours, and you’re mine.” George gushes. Going in for the third, but not final time, they embrace and kiss sweet nothings into their lips, each as a promise to love each other with no holding back.

#georgenotfound #gnf #georgenotfound x reader #gnf x reader #georgenotfound x y/n #gnf x y/n #georgenotfound x oc #gnf x oc #georgenotfound x you #gnf x you #myct george #myct x reader #myct #george myct #gnf myct #georgenotfound myct

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levis-coffeecup · 2 years

Text

Chapter 13 | Silent Rains

WC-5.4 k

Content/Warnings

canon- compliant, canon-typical violence, descriptions of PTSD, grief, depression, heavy angst and themes, strong language.

Author's note:

Hi guys, I’m back again.

Firstly I’m so so sorry for not replying to the comments on the previous chapter yet. I’ve genuinely been very busy. And the internet at my campus is REALLY shitty, and it takes so long to upload chapters as well. But I promise I’ll reply back to you guys today:)

This chapter takes place 2 weeks after the previous chapter, and the song for this chapter is yet another desi song - Channa Mereya by Arijit Singh. (the lyrics are translated in the top comment.)

Chapters

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22

Masterlist | Playlist | Other Works

JUL 846

The morning sky looks colorless. Budding rays of sunlight hide behind thunder clouds. And vultures run around in circles, their piercing cries haunting and ominous.

Thunder reverberates around, and the sounds of teeth clattering amplifies as a result.

"This is a bad omen, vultures are harbingers of death."

"Shut up, it's the weather, that's all it is."

Tension lingers in the atmosphere, as the Survey Corps staff waits at the headquarters’ main gate. The soldiers are out for the mission and medics, chefs, maids, are all lined up, praying for their fortunate return.

Shades of gray become silvery as the sound of a thousand taps takes over. The quiet reticence is broken by the sound of people bustling as they run to take cover inside the open corridor.

It’s almost the end of July and the first rain of the year. Marking the outset of the monsoon.

Mae stretches her arm outside, into the rain. Pearly beads of water trickle down the back of her hand.

Ivan has already left two days ago. And Mae has resigned as well. She’s just waiting here to see if Hange comes back alright from the mission. And bid them a proper farewell.

And she wants to meet Petra as well.

To be honest, she doesn’t really want to leave this place. There are wonderful people like Hange and Petra who have been so nice to her. The job is stable and even though the pay isn’t much, most of her living expenses are covered by the Survey Corps budget.

But she has to make a choice between the pain in her heart, and her comfortable life in the Survey Corps.

It’s been 2 weeks since that incident with Levi, and she hasn’t spoken to him ever since. The tables have turned, and now she avoids him as if he is a plague. Now she walks away every time he steps into the room.

The events of that day feel like a distant memory. Sometimes she wonders if Levi really did that and berated her as he held her up by the collar.

After all, it was her Levi. The same Levi who gave her food when she had nothing to eat. And who gave her a shoulder to cry on when she was left all alone in this world.

And if it wasn’t for him, she would have probably killed herself, because only she knows how lonely and miserable she felt after her parent’s death.

How could he of all people do that to her? How could someone be so double faced? How could someone fake their concern and emotions to this extent?

Humiliation, anger, disgust , distress, she felt it all that day. And it is indeed ironic that her feelings for him are still relentless. They seep into every thought and interrupt her every action.

Ever present in the chambers of her mind, and shattering her heart in the most ruthless ways possible.

It’s embarrassing how much she still pines for him. He literally told her to never show him her ‘disgusting’ face again. He lashed out at her, he lifted her up by the collar. Even when it wasn’t her fault.

Then how could her stupid excuse of a heart still want him, when he has spoken out loud, how much he despises her. How could her heart still want her to forget all that he has done, and run back to him. Does she have no pride? Is this how despicable she really is?

She needs to forget him.

She needs to forget the person whose mere thought submerges her in a pool of misery.

As much as her heat still sways towards him, from now on her mind will always remain stable.

And forgetting him will be much easier once she gets out of the Survey corps. Once everything in the place doesn’t remind her of him. Once he is out of her sight, she’ll push him out of her mind as well.

Her eyes land on the open headquarter gates and she thinks about the life she'd have outside them.

Minutes pass by, and it starts raining harder.

A picture forms in the horizon. Her hand flies over her mouth and a gasp escapes her lips as she sees the marvelous landscape forming far in the distance.

Glossy threads of water disperse everywhere as horses step into puddles of water. They gallop at full speed, and the fog around the forest makes it look like they are emerging from the clouds. Soldiers tread closer at a rapid rate. Raindrops rebound off of them and a silvery silhouette hovers over. Their olive cloaks fly behind them harmoniously and they look like heroes. Heroes coming from heaven.

The sound of hooves becomes louder.

The gates are open wide, and everyone holds their breath as the soldiers draw closer. Waiting to know the result of the expedition and nervous to see how many soldiers have died this time

Stallions fill the courtyard. And the soldiers finally return home, smeared with blood, sweat, and dirt. A closer look at their faces, and anyone can tell that they have been through hell.

But there is a difference this time, there is a fire in their eyes and hope in their marred faces.

The halls get lively once again. The scouts descend off their horses. Some rush towards their friends and hug them, and some stand frozen, mourning as they take out the dead and injured out of the wagons.

Stretchers fill the corridor. Nurses rush in, to check the pulse of the wounded.

It’s common for expeditions to have heavy casualties. Sometimes people die in the wagons itself, as its constant movement leads to more blood loss and damage.

And the medical unit in the Survey Corps has always been inadequate in strength. They have plenty of beds and six big wards. But they don’t have enough staff, because that’s not something they can afford with the budget they have. And so it is important to determine who is in need of attention, first. And treat people according to the severity of their injuries.

Doctors dart to the infirmary, and the critical ones tail right behind them, loaded on stretches that soldiers carry.

Anya stands in front of the infirmary door. Jotting down the names of the injured and the doctors looking after them. Doctors get occupied one by one, but the injured coming in don’t seem to stop.

"How many more?" Anya yells out in a panicked tone.

"There's a lot this time," Mae deducts, pointing a finger out as she counts the number of stretchers coming their way.

Fifteen, seventeen, twenty -

Her actions stall as her eyes land on a head of jet black hair. Face doused in red, drops of rain washing it away to reveal lithe eyebrows and features way too familiar.

No sound comes out of her mouth, but her feet move forward with a will of their own. And she scurries to him mindlessly. Pellets of water hit her head as she pushes her way through the crowd.

Murmurs float around, and the soldiers seem to rejoice despite the fact that so many have returned injured again this time. Their whispers peck her ears, and she finally makes sense of what’s happening.

"Captain Levi killed 12 titans on this mission itself."

"Impossible, that's more than the kill count of Humanity's Strongest."

"Captain Levi is the new Humanity’s Strongest now idiot. I witnessed it, he saved us all back there."

Her feet start moving faster, and her heart lurches forward as she gets closer to him.

Skin ghostly white, blood dribbling out of his lips. Levi's body lays motionless, drenching in the rain, doused in his own blood.

Her hand quivers as it reaches out towards him, fingers wrapping around his wrist. Her thumb hovers over his pulse point, hoping that this is just some nightmare, yet scared to find his pulse too still.

The scouts carrying him stop, as they recognize the white gloves that only doctors wear.

The raindrops clear Levi’s crimson face, and an eerie silence falls over as more and more people recognize him.

Another round of murmurs fills the courtyard. And this time everyone is aghast.

Seeing Levi this battered, injures the new found hope they had found as well. Their eyes travel to Mae, who stands next to Humanity’s Strongest. And it's tragic how much they look up to the doctor whose mind is busy convincing her to leave this place, and the man that has hurt her so much.

They are looking up to a doctor who is a little too lost in her emotions, a little too biased by her experience. And a conflict is brewing inside of her as her hand gently strokes his wrist.

These were the same hands that unrelentingly lifted her by her collar, holding her there and berating her until tears pricked her eyes. And now the pulse beating through them is low.

Her finger then rove over his parted lips.

And this was the mouth that had rudely dismissed her when she had confessed, despite him not uttering a single word to her in weeks. And now the exhales coming out of it are so slow and shallow.

The things that happened with them were surely tragic. But if today is the day Levi dies then she would want to do things differently.

She would want to yell at him, punch him. She would want to ask him, if he was using her to learn this language along? And if the time they spent together truly meant nothing to him.

She would want to if the Levi she knew, was never the actual Levi after all, but just a deception.

Red. She stares at the pads of her fingers, which are now slathered red with his blood.

Love, anger, pride, resentment, sadness. A weird concoction of emotions storms inside of her, as her heart and mind wage war against each other. She doesn't know what she’ll do next. She doesn’t even know how he feels about his state. She just knows that she is prickling in its sheer red.

She just knows that she's burning in this heavy rain.

Someone taps on her shoulder, and before she can respond a voice hits her ear.

"Please, Mae you have to save him." Pleading blue eyes look down at her, it is Erwin.

He, of all people, knows exactly what had happened that day. He of all knows that she has resigned already.

Two weeks back he told her to stay until he found a replacement for her, three days back he told her that he'd found someone fit for the job.

She is just here to see Hange. And Hange is alright, standing at the corner with a list in hand, as they check how many soldiers have returned back.

And Mae is free to leave. A new life is awaiting her, just outside these barracks. No person, no responsibility holds her back this time.

But her heart runs rampant at the sight of him. And she is so embarrassed of this part of her that wants to save the man who’s hurt her countless times. Who’s the reason for all of her sadness.

Does he even deserve an ounce of her kindness?

"Please Mae," Erwin’s hands are clasped in front of his chest. For once, he isn't commanding but requesting.

The injured are lined up one after another. And so many of them are in a critical condition. And waiting for a doctor only means making Levi wait in such an unstable condition.

Unable to meet Erwin’s eye, Mae gazes at the people surrounding them. And silencing her anguished heart, becomes difficult once she sees all the soldiers looking at her with such trust in their eyes.

Oh! How she hates the injured man in front of her. Who disposed her off, as if she is some trash that disgusts him.

But what she hates more is her weak and pathetic heart.

And the way she feels for him. So strong that it sweeps her into a spiral-like the winds of a cyclone. So strong, like flowing in waves that are sure to drown her down.

That are sure to kill every ounce of self esteem she has.

But right now she’s not just looking at the man who has hurt her immensely. She is looking at the man, who’s proclaimed the new Humanity’s Strongest. She’s looking at the man who all these soldiers look up to with so much hope.

A doctor’s job is to save a life. And is Levi any different just because he hurt her?

The thought toys with her injured heart a little more. And she hates him so much, for the way he makes her doubt herself and her actions.

But she also hates seeing him like this. Covered in his own blood.

After all, this is the same Levi who was once the only source of light in her life.

She doesn’t even know what she feels for him at this point. Love hate, or something blurred between those lines?

Slowly, her head turns to Erwin, the desperation in his eyes overrules her ego as she gives in to her heart's desires.

The lump in her throat makes it difficult for her to speak in proper sentences, so she just gives him a weak nod. Because she knows her pathetic heart will never stop tormenting her, if she leaves him in such a horrible condition.

To the end she’ll be the bigger person, because when she thinks of Levi a year later, she doesn’t want to feel that at some place she went wrong.

And so she’ll let her heart win for a day. She will allow herself a moment of weakness. Because after this, she’ll be somewhere far away. She’ll move on with her life.

And she’ll never see Levi again.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Fresh air flies past through the window next to Levi. It tousles his hair, as his body lays unconscious , draped in bandages and pricked with injections.

The beds next to him are empty, and the area is silent. He is placed in a small ward, where it's just him and no one else.

Mae insisted on keeping it that way, and not placing him with all the soldiers who are jam-packed in all the other wards.

She claimed that Levi likes solitude, and well who knows Levi better than her in the Survey Corps?

Sitting on a chair, right beside his bed, she gawks at the sun as it drowns itself behind the looming trees. It was hardly seen today, hiding behind the thunder clouds that still rain relentlessly.

Levi hates rain. It makes a mess out of everything.

The sound of the door opening resounds through the room, and Mae turns around.

"I heard you’ve been here all day," Petra says, as she stands at the door frame with some tea and biscuits in one hand, and a cast wrapped around her other.

Mae pulls another chair next to her as Petra limps forward.

The Special Operations Squad returned heavily injured from the expedition. Eld is resting in another ward, and Gunther is still unconscious. Petra has fractured one hand and sprained her leg, and Oluo is the only one who made it out without a scratch on him.

"You haven't eaten anything, take it?" Petra extends the tray forward once she sits on the chair.

"I don't feel like it…” Mae’s voice trails off as her gaze flickers back to Levi again.

"How is Captain doing?"

Mae remains silent for a moment before she says. "He's fractured his leg and his ribs... but I am most concerned about the wound in his stomach, it's very deep and has caused a lot of blood loss…”

Petra looks at Mae with concern. She’s been sitting here for hours now. Not letting Levi leave out of her sight for a single second. Not even getting up to take a break or eat something.

“I made you tea,” she offers.

Levi always told her to give Mae some tea whenever she looked upset. And today he isn’t here to brew her the tea himself. So she made some hoping that it alleviates some of the worry in her heart.

Mae picks the tea cup, and throws Petra a grateful look. She is quick to take a sip and her face turns into one of distaste. “No offense, but it seems like your fracture has affected your tea-making skills… “ She takes another sip despite the taste, “But I’ll finish the tea either way, because l really, really appreciate you making it for me.”

Petra smiles sheepishly at her words. Of course she can’t compete with Captain and the tea he makes. “Yeah it was a little hard, making it with one hand.”

Mae's heart warms and she smiles for the first time in many days and Petra places her hand on Mae’s and squeezes it to convey reassurance. "He'll be alright, I'm sure of it."

But the words bring no reassurance to Mae, to her they just seem like baseless predictions just made to make her feel better. And Petra can sense that by the way Mae’s gaze falls to the ground.

“Hey,” Petra gives her hand another squeeze. “I know you don’t believe me, but I’m not saying all these things just to make you feel better… An abnormal titan had penetrated deep inside our formation this morning, when we were returning back to the walls. And that left a lot of people heavily injured…We had to stop midway to give them first aid, the soldiers wouldn't stop pleading about it. We stopped at a destroyed village, there weren't any titans nearby so we thought it would be okay. But then Section- Commander Miche heard footsteps, and titans came rushing before we could wind everything up..... The injured were on the ground, medical supplies and food sprawled all around them. Everyone was panicking until Commander Erwin told our squad to fight the titans and buy some time."

Her hold on Mae’s hand tightens for a second and then her face turns into one of awe

"They just kept coming and he just kept killing them. He killed 12 titans all by himself Mae! I can't even tell her how fast he was, so fast that I couldn't even see his movements… He is so exceptional, he fights like he has nothing to lose." She raves, and Mae can see the admiration that sparkles in Petra's eyes as she speaks about Levi.

"And he didn't even injure himself because of a titan, his gear malfunctioned and he crashed. Can you believe it? He is so good, that it wasn't even his mistake." She pauses mid-way, and a silly smile crosses her features as she realizes that she’s ranting.

Petra’s hand shifts from Mae’s and lands on her shoulder. "All I'm saying is that Captain is a fighter. And you have nothing to worry about."

Mae finishes her tea, and flashes Petra a genuine smile. “Don’t forget to take care of yourself as well, Petra.”

Petra nods and she places the plateful of food on Mae’s lap,”I'll go check up on Eld and Gunther now, please do eat when you feel like it." And with that, she picks up the empty teacups and tray and hobbles away.

The room becomes quiet and Mae finds herself alone with her thoughts once again.

She looks at the fearless man Petra talked about, as he lays swaddled in blankets.

To her, he isn't fearless, nor is he a hero or humanity's strongest. He is just a human she befriended. Just a human who knows everything about her- from her favorite color to her deepest insecurities.

Levi’s right-hand pokes out of the blankets. The injections pricking into his forearm, acts as a barrier against the blanket that covers his whole body.

Mae places her fingers on his hand, roving them over the coarse skin of his palm.

It is cold.

The atmosphere is gloomy, the endless downpour adds to its melancholy. Levi isn't just a capable soldier anymore, he is an idol, giving people assurance that maybe, they do have a chance at beating the titans. And seeing him so bruised and battered has taken its toll on the entire regiment.

Even the soldiers who were happy to have come back alive look like they are losing their spirit. And to Mae, it seems like even the sky can't stop crying today.

She takes his hand and holds it in both of hers. "A lot of people came to see you today Levi. A lot more than your awkward self would have liked anyway." A faint chuckle escapes her lips.

"Everyone is waiting for you to return… come back to us Levi, come back to me," she blurts, staring at him with pleading eyes, for the millionth time.

Mauve-colored bags stare right back at her, eyes sealed close and skin still blanched.

Tired, she rests her head beside their entangled hands, a single tear falls on the pristine, white bedsheet as her eyes shut close in defeat.

It rains the entire night as well.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Sandal soles strike the floor heavily, as Mae rushes out of the restroom .

It’s 4 in the morning, and Anya just told her that Levi has woken up. Her back is sore from sitting straight next to him, the entire night, but she ignores it as she enters the infirmary. And she heads straight towards the room he is in.

Rounding the corner, her eyes dart towards Levi, seated on his bed in all his glory. Erwin, Hange, and his squad circle around him, as his fingers fiddle with the hem of his blanket.

The moon shines from the window behind him, and the sky contrasts his bare chest and the cream-colored bandages wrapped all around his waist and shoulder.

A jagged breath leaves her lips as she remembers how profusely his blood had flowed, seeping through her cotton gloves and dyed her fingertips crimson. It was nauseating, sitting in that room, suffocating in the metallic smell of his blood.

This has been the most gruesome case she has ever operated on, and she is proud of herself.

It's almost been 2 years since the fall of Maria. 2 years since that man died because of her, and all this while she was so scared of the possibility of messing up.

And even though her mind was panicking, her fingers didn’t tremble as she stitched his wounds. Her eyes didn't water seeing him so pale and her heart didn't freeze seeing him so close to death.

Her hands were stable and steady, and her body knew exactly what to do. All those double shifts and late-night study sessions have paid off.

She steps a foot forward, wanting to run to him and tell him how she was finally able to stay calm. She has improved and maybe she could start thinking about giving meaning to that old man's life just like he’d told her so many days back. And maybe he'll pet her head and tell her he is proud of her too.

But he isn't a part of her life anymore, and her mind has long decided to stay as far from him as possible. So why is her heart filled with the ardent desire to hug him, to hold him so close that she can listen to his heartbeat, and relish in the color that fills his once corpse-like body?

Her foot retracts and she sharply inhales as she hides behind the wall. Her eyes travel up, and she looks at the plain white ceiling.

Levi’s favorite color is white and he is sure to dust off the spiderwebs in the corner, once he recovers.

She clenches the sides of her dress in an attempt to quench the ever-growing tightness in her throat .

She tried so hard. Discarding her own self-esteem countless times and scurrying to him like a lost puppy. She tried so goddamn hard. Always being the bigger person and trying her best to understand him better. And yet he isn't hers to keep. And yet she is the one stealing glances at him from behind the wall.

And what good is care that strangles your own neck in the end? What good is the selflessness that tramples on your own pride instead of adding onto it? What good is the friendship, that instead of giving you courage, steals away your ability to speak?

And what good is the love, that makes you hate yourself?

The spiral she is falling into isn't unfamiliar.

Hopeless, it is hopeless, spending so many tears on someone who doesn't even care.

These halls are etched with memories that torment her mind and remind her of every painful thing that has happened between them.

She needs to get away.

Twisting from her spine, she rests her hands on the door, and looks at him.

Her eyes burn as she drinks in his sight for one last time. The candle flickering on the side table, paints his silhouette golden, carving out his jawline perfectly. A subtle pink dusts his cheeks. And a rare smile tugs on his lips as his squad bickers about something.

He looks angelic.

She snaps her eyes away, and presses her lips into a thin line.

She needs to get away.

She needs to stop pining for a man, who will never be hers to begin with. She needs to stop caring for a man, who’s once fixed her heart, only to break it into a million more pieces.

Pivoting away instantly, she walks away, with her head high as she strides towards the reception.

"Anya, I'll get going now, the captain will be under your care," she urges and Anya hums, taking a notepad out to jot the doctor's instructions.

"His diet should be semi-solid only. The deep cut on his stomach is still healing, so we don't want to put too much load on his organs there. But do give him a lot of protein and milk....... And make sure he has a complete week of bedrest. He has recovered pretty quickly, but we must still take all the necessary precautions."

“You are leaving, as in leaving with Ivan right?”

Mae hums in agreement, but her mind still runs with thoughts of Levi and his recovery. "Also he's going to be a complete ass about this, nagging every second he gets, but don't let it get to you. Call the commander if it's necessary. He's going to grumble the most about this room being filthy, so take him back to his, 2 days later, that is, if he is recovering properly. And for the times when he's being a bitch, just give him a romance book to read, that shuts him up pretty quickly."

"Oh...okay," Anya sputters. Taking a moment to figure out whether she is speaking about the Captain or Ivan. And now that Mae has stopped talking she is baffled at how much she seems to know about him.

The captain is a closed off man, his stoic face is unwavering. And there is always a sense of mystery around him.

Yes, there was a lot of gossip surrounding Levi and Mae, when Mae had first joined in. But Anya never thought it was serious, because they were never even seen together after that famous incident in the mess hall.

"Don’t take me wrong with this question Mae… But you know Captain so well… What are you guys?"

Mae’s throat constricts at the question. And heaviness spreads throughout her heart.

She knows this emotion all too well. It’s an ache, caused by the threads of attachment that are tangled to Levi’s fingers. One pull and she comes rushing towards him, like a dog following its master.

And what if this knot is something she could never entangle?

She needs to get away.

"Strangers.... that's all we are now." The slight tremor in her voice betrays the smile that she forces. And her feet walk away instantly, desperate to get away from this painful situation

Waving a quick goodbye, she ambles back to her room in haste.

The corridors are dark, and lonely. Perfect for someone who is struggling to keep their emotions at bay.

In no time she reaches her door. Turning the knob to her room she closes it with a soft thud.

Her back presses against the door, and she stares ahead. The candles run cold and the curtains are drawn taut. All that she can see is the white blanket that lays crumbled at the foot of the bed.

But she doesn't need sight to know that the new, ' better-quality , broom that he bought leans against her cupboard. And how she brought two teacups instead of one when she shifted to this room. And how the napkin that he used to bandage her knee, is still in her drawer, clean and neatly folded.

Slowly, she slumps down, and the stark darkness of the room swallows her whole. Her butt plops to the floor and so does a single droplet that unknowingly escaped her eyes.

She places her elbows on her knees, and rests the top of her head on her forearms. And she buries her face into the square that had forms between her arms and her chest.

Tears fall freely, accumulating on her thigh. She can feel the chilly wet trails on her face and the hot insides of her mouth, but what she feels the most is uncertainty.

It's pathetic how she’s left here all alone, when he’s happy and surrounded by so many people who care for him.

And it's pathetic, how miserable and weak her heart is. Ready to cling on to him despite the way he breaks her pride. She has always been a little lonely, but when did she get so pitiful and desperate enough to thoughtlessly toss her self esteem just to have someone stay with her?

Silent cries turn deafening, as the wet patch on her thigh grows bigger and bigger.

Millions of questions run through her mind. What would she do? Where would she live? Would she be comfortable? Would she ever be happy?

Her body shivers as it registers the coldness of daybreak. The chilly air leaves goosebumps on her skin, in its wake.

Warmth is what she needs, a long hug by her father, telling her that everything will be okay, or just some sweet tea, that will heat her up from the inside. Just anything.

Warmth is what she lacks as she sleeps on the cool tile floor, tear trails now icky, and the taste of her tears still lingering on her lips.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You're doing it, aren't ya?" Hange looks at Mae incredulously.

The skies have cleared up. It's 8 am, and the morning light filters into the room. Perfectly shining light on Mae’s features.

Clumpy lashes rest on swollen eyelids, nose still red and hair all clammy. It doesn't need a genius to figure out that she has cried all night.

"I am," she affirms, her face impassive and vacant.

Hange places their arms on her shoulder and pulls her into a hug.

She is stepping into a new life, and from what she had told them, it is only going to get tougher. Different home, different people. They just hope that she doesn't get more miserable.

Their hand strokes her back in a comforting manner. And their voice is low as they voice out the question their mind has been hesitating to ask since forever. "Will you be happy?"

Mae remains quiet and her hand slides down to her pocket. The cold silver ring and the warm handkerchief still lay in there. She had to make a choice and she has made it.

The impact Levi had on her life is great and she’ll never be able to forget him.

He saved her at her lowest, but now she has saved him too. And with this they are equal. It's time to move on. It's time to let go.

She breaks the hug and places the neatly folded napkin in Hange’s hands. And with this she is ready to forget him. She is ready to drop the memories that she’d thought she’d cherish forever.

Mae throws Hange a tight-lipped smile and then she walks towards the door.

"I'll learn to find happiness," she says as she steps out of the room.

Author's Note:

So that’s all for this week! I hoped you liked the chapter.

Ever since I have shifted to my college campus, things have drastically changed. Life is so much more happening and I have so many more things to do and distractions as well, so I haven’t been as regular with the writing and I am slacking a bit. So I might take another 2 week break, but that will only happen once I finish this arc so I won’t leave you guys hanging lol.

But since the past few days I have been trying to write everyday, so hopefully, I can catch up and publish these chapters without any breaks.

As usual, any comments or feedback are highly appreciated. I hope you have a great day ahead! See you next Sunday.

Taglist: @keijikunn @evas-leslas

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freddiekluger · 3 years

Note

please drop the essay length analysis Judas and Jesus (extra gay Swedish edition), O great and knowledgeable monarch of our times

alright, you ask i deliver! please excuse any typos, my eyes aren't exactly working rn

welcome to my probably super subjective but correct analysis, aka

Judas Was Right and Jesus Was A Victim (At Least, In Swedish)

Before we get started, a couple points: i’ll try to avoid comparisons to other specific productions, i’ve only seen the other recorded 2012 british version which i didn’t like for reasons including but not limited to the amount of white people with dreadlocks. Also, my understanding of swedish is limited to a couple words and phrases, so most of the lyrics i reference will be english subtitles from Ola Salo’s swedish translation and therefore might not be the most accurate !

There’s so much i could cover in this, but for now i’m going to focus on how jesus and judas are portrayed in the 2014 swedish arena tour of Jesus Christ Superstar (JCS) starring Ola Salo as Jesus and Peter Johansson as Judas, along with how this production more implicitly views god.

From the opening number, translated into swedish as En Dimmig Himmelsdröm (A Foggy Heaven’s Dream), Peter Johansson’s acting and semantic differences in the lyrics present us with a deeply sympathetic portrayal of Judas. Looking purely at language, the english equivalent Heaven On Their Minds instantly paints Judas as much more of a faithless doubter- lyrics exclusive to the english version like “all your followers have gone blind / too much heaven on their minds” and “they think you’re the new messiah / and they’ll hurt you when they find they’re wrong” strongly enforce Judas’ main motivation for his actions being that he has less belief in Jesus and God’s plan than any of the other disciples with strong statements judging the other disciples for following him and claiming that Jesus ISN’T the messiah. The swedish translation doesn’t paint exactly the same picture- the focus of Judas’ number becomes his fear for Jesus’ wellbeing, not because he isn’t the messiah (the production remains fairly ambiguous on this point), but because Jesus can’t cope. The root of Judas’ concern comes from fear for Jesus’ wellbeing, and the disciples are referenced as regularly misunderstanding and wilfully twisting Jesus’ words. The swedish equivalent lyrics for the above examples are “they say, “jesus is god’s son” / but you know how people can change” (judas isn’t concerned with truth, just the danger that jesus will be in if the tide turns), and “the kingdom of heaven is within us, that’s what you said / bu they sew it, stitch by stich into some kind of foggy heaven’s dream”. Judas is showing that he HAS been listening and cares for Jesus’ teachings, but ‘they’ [his disciples] are turning them into something else entirely, and Judas’ worries that the support of the masses is fragile at best- the lines “and everything you say gets twisted by your lackeys / it will be anything but what you’ve said” and “you are being used by people who want you in their battle” reinforces this again. When combined with Peter Johansson’s tough but tender performance, in which he dances between disdain for Jesus, the institution, and affection for Jesus, the man (an important distinction), Judas is the harsh realist doing his best to look out for the man he loves. The way he takes Jesus hands and looks at him with love and urgency straight away establishes that his motivations are pure- Judas is doing what he thinks is best, even though it feels like no one will listen to him.

That was long, but En Dimmig Himmelsdröm is the perfect character introduction for Judas. He’s not totally unrecognisable, still delivering digs about ‘Jesus, the little carpenter’s son’, his manner is still rough and at this point we’re not sure whether or not the claims he makes about the disciples have any truth to them, BUT we can also see how much Jesus means to him, an important point that give context to the intensity of their future arguments and really makes the whole story much more heartbreaking.

This brings me to Ola Salo’s Jesus. Delightfully camp and queercoded, Judas describes him as being caught up in his own magic and mystery and buckling under the pressure, and he’s not entirely wrong. Throughout the first act, Jesus basks in the luxuries that being messiah can give him (the oils Mary paid for using disciple funds that were supposed to go towards helping the poor, him absolutely thriving in the shopping cart in What’s the Buzz?), and is shown actively avoiding any reminders of the seriousness of his position. He’s sick of the disciples asking him for a plan, he chooses the comforting Mary, who’s theme consists of telling Jesus everything is okay and he doesn’t need to think about anything, over Judas, who is less perhaps ‘cosy’ but is actively trying to warn and protect Jesus from an awful fate. During The Temple, he starts to crack as he’s overcome by the followers begging him to make him well, fear in his eyes as he raises his arms while frozen on the spot trying to avoid being devoured by the frenzy in desperate need of a messiah. Judas’ point about Jesus buckling under the pressure is starting to look more and more reasonable, and the dashes of showbiz campness add to the sense that much of Jesus is a persona constructed for the masses to give himself enough distance to prevent him from being crushed by the weight of God entirely. Jesus, the institution, prances around, lays his hands on his followers, and projects an air of easygoing calm. Jesus, the man, is scared and alone, and Jesus, the man, really comes out in Last Supper, but before we get there, I want to circle back to the Jesus/Mary/Judas thing.

Jesus, Mary, and Judas are presented as a love triangle: so much so, that Judas seeing Mary sing of her love for Jesus (I Don’t Know How To Love Him) is actually played as the inciting incident that sends him to the pharisees. Judas, the picture of the jealous lover, storms onto the scene, breaking them up and attempting to kiss Jesus, who instead shoves him to the ground in disdain. Judas, who is perhaps a little controlling, realises that any influence he had over Jesus has gone, and it’s likely a combination of jealousy and the knowledge that Jesus won’t stop that prompts him to head to the pharisees. In his meeting with the pharisees (known in english as Damned For All Time, although that phrase doesn’t appear once in the swedish), Judas’ expresses outright that “I’m the one who sees / Jesus, he can’t handle it anymore” “the truth is that this hysteria is making him lose control”, once he can get past explaining how much this plan of action feels like a last resort. He never even verbally or physically accept the pharisees’ offer of money, he denies it twice before it is eventually thrown over him after he reluctantly gives them the date and time to find Jesus- we never even see him pick it up, unlike other productions which show Judas grabbing for the cash and place a higher emphasis on Judas making sure he ‘won’t be damned for all time’, painting Judas as far more self serving. When it comes to Jesus, Judas is active- he’s running around trying to help, caressing him, embracing him, grabbing his hand, kissing him. They share countless moment of intimacy, especially at the start, establishing the fondness between them instead of instantly jumping to their conflict. When it comes to Mary (and admittedly, this is partially because she’s a secondary character- don’t get me wrong I still love her and Gunilla Backman does a brilliant job), she’s much more passive. Other than the much more gentle kisses in I Don’t Know How To Love Him and her penchant for dabbing Jesus’ forehead, she’s mostly just ‘there’. She cares for Jesus after the fact, and even when performing acts of intimacy like the oil and the kiss, she maintains a lot of physical distance- her songs touch on this as, much like Jesus (admittedly for different reasons), she actively distances herself from feelings to protect herself, so naturally she literally places distance between herself and the object of her love.

This brings me back to Last Supper, Gethsemane ( I Only Want to Say), and the kiss of death that broke all of our hearts. Throughout this segment, this is when Jesus, the man, really comes through, and it’s devastating. In Last Supper, he properly expresses the sheer amount of loneliness he feels, reiterating how he feels everyone will forget about him once he’s gone, and doesn’t really care about him as a man (”for you, my blood is not worth more than wine / for you, my body is not worth more than bread” “you will have forgotten me as soon as i give up my life”). This devolves into the disciples fighting each other and, you guessed it, ignoring him. For the first time, Jesus meaningfully lets out his anger, and as it turns to Judas, Judas does the same. Because of the set up of their complicated romantic relationship and the stakes involved, the amount of personal attacks and anger that comes out of Jesus and Judas’ repeated fights (which get physical) make complete sense- Jesus’ frustrations come from the fact that his entire fate has been predetermined and to him, Judas is just another instrument in the ways he’s been controlled (both with Judas being his betrayer, but also the way that Judas’ constant advice and interference with Jesus’ life (most obviously, the mary thing) are acted by Ola Salo as becoming increasingly frustrating to Jesus)- these frustrations are directed at their real cause, God, in Gethsemane. Judas’ frustrations come from the fact that no matter how hard he tries to help Jesus and keep him safe, Jesus keeps rejecting his efforts resulting in “all that we’ve built up [being] destroyed”- Judas’ heart hasn’t just been broken by Jesus rejecting him romantically, but on every level. Here, he’s actually shown to be the disciple most passionate about helping people practically and long term, being the only one concerned about Mary taking money which was supposed to help people, manipulated by the pharisees with the promise of doing good for the masses, and criticising Jesus for how they could be doing so much for people, ending his part of Last Supper with “every time i look at you i ask myself why you let all your things go so wrong? / all i ever wanted was to help you”.

This is also the point where Judas’ claims about the disciples are essentially confirmed, and this productions intent to portray Judas as more of a tragic hero become absolutely clear. In the english version, the disciples chorus remains virtually the same each time it appears, generally being far too calm considering their leader is about to die, revealing their aspirations to be apostles, and their intent to write the gospels to be remembered. the swedish translation still achieve this, but with variations from chorus to chorus it becomes much more poignant. i’m just going to stick to ttwo, which are choruses 1 and 3. In chorus 1, lines roughly translate to “i’ve always wanted to be an apostle / life is so nice when you’re saved/ then when we’ve got time we’ll write the gospels / then everything will be the way we want”- the apostles declaring that life is so good when you’re saved supports Judas’ opening statement that they care more about some idea of heaven than anything else, not to mention ignoring the absolute horrors that Jesus will have to go through to be saved, while the final line about the gospels introduces their intent to change whichever details they need to make ‘everything the way we want’: once again, exactly what Judas warned us of in En Dimmig Himmelsdröm. In chorus 3, taking place after Judas storms out for the last time, these lines change to “never really liked that judas / never saw what jesus saw in him / then, when we’ve got time we’ll write the gospels / and we’ll angle it so he gets all the blame”. Judas as a sympathetic character is confirmed here, as the disciples straight up admit how they don’t like Judas anyways and intend to write him as a villain (also inadvertently admitting that, since they have to write the gospels to make it look like only Judas’ fault, Judas isn’t really the sole one responsible for everything that is to come). It’s deeply unsettling, and for me was the point where I really began to question how good any of these disciples were, and by extension, how good is this production’s God if his truly sanctified followers are acting like this?

Jesus vents out all of his anger and desperation in Gethsemane. He acknowledges his own powerlessness and begs him to change the plan, but with the dark stage and no response (along with Ola Salo’s spectacular acting) it becomes clear that if anyone is there, they’re certainly not listening (”you, who have all the power / can you please change the plan / for i can already feel the pain burning in me”). It’s worth mentioning that a lot of the imagery in this swedish version is much more intense than the english, both in this song and the production as a whole. Jesus plainly calls god “thoughtless”, begging to understand, and it’s that this point we realise that he agrees with much more of what Judas has been saying than he’s been letting on- Jesus’ faith appears to be the only thing keeping him from listening to Judas and running away. Judas’ messages about people misunderstanding Jesus’ words also come out (”you care that everyone sees / but not that anyone understands”), and his eventual agreeing to die is played less as an inspiring act of faith, and more an act of desperation as he realises, he realise has no other choice. In this song, we see just how much of Judas Jesus has valued and taken on board, and that his air of carefree aloofness which frustrated Judas was, as we’ve already touched on, a complete act. The line “might as well finish what i’ve... what YOU’VE started” is absolutely miserable, reinforcing one of the major themes of this production: the idea that Jesus and Judas were both just ordinary men tormented by futures defined by forces out of their control. Just as Jesus has absorbed Judas’ logic, as an audience so we have, and it’s difficult to view the rest of the play’s events as anything other than an immense and unnecessary act of cruelty.

we’re almost done i promise!

Even knowing what Judas has/will do, Jesus still greets him with love. Judas, still under the impression that Jesus will be okay and that he’s doing what’s best, approaches him with the utmost tenderness, and the kiss is a beautiful signifier of two things. For Jesus, the return of his love for Judas shows his realisation in Gethsemane that Judas isn’t the one who’s sealed his fate and has only being trying to help, it’s god himself who has decided Jesus’ future. For Judas, the kiss shows that despite all of the anger and frustration that has been pouring out of him, he truly does love Jesus, and the way he cradles the scared and alone Jesus to his chest afterwards shows just how much he wishes he could be the one to help him and keep him close. Even with all their arguments and dysfunction, here Jesus and Judas find comfort in each other, and it almost seems like everything will end up alright. It’s in this moment that Judas and Jesus are most identifiable not as enemies, or as villain and hero, but as archetypal lovers from a Shakespearean tragedy. Neither of them set out to hurt each other, but through miscommunications, their own flaws, and external forces (both natural and supernatural), their love is simply never to be. Furthermore, in the following torture and spectacle, everything that Judas predicted for Jesus is about to come true. Another detail I find interesting is the way that Jesus and Judas both sport black nail polish, leather pants, and similar length hair: along with just looking cool as hell, the similarities really reinforce how close they are and how much they influence each other- it feels like a contemporary version of carrying a cameo or a lock of your lover's hair with you, a way for 'star crossed lovers' to keep a piece of their beloved no matter what.

The disaffected persona of Jesus, the institution, comes back as he’s taken by the authorities and subsequently insulted, degraded, and whipped. Also the swedish version of The Arrest, when the chorus starts singing questions, contains this dick joke and I think we all deserve it: “why were you dating a whore? / talk about a huge magic wand!”

Skipping forward to Judas’ Death, this is where both his character and the production’s conception of god beautifully (and miserably) align. When Judas runs to the pharisees, minor semantic changes (along with the genuine concern and great acting from Peter Johansson) reinforce that this Judas genuinely didn’t know that Jesus would be beaten and sentenced to death the way he has been, and Judas’ concern regarding how things look is played less as ‘oh no people will hate ME!’, but how having sentenced the man you love to death is one nightmarish thing, but for everyone to think you did it knowingly and willingly and then congratulate you for it is unthinkable. Where the english shows Judas’ attempting to evade responsibility for Jesus death, the swedish is more focused on Judas’ guilt, horror, and regret. The english “I’d save him all the suffering if I could / don’t believe our good / save him if I could” is swapped in swedish for “If anyone should die here I should / don’t say I’m good / better if I died”. While the english statements are somewhat empty (sure, Judas says he’d save Jesus’ suffering if he could, but he can’t so we’ll never truly know) and are still focused on Judas’ attempt to construct himself as a good guy, the swedish translation has Judas admit his guilt (even if it’s not really his fault), and make the promise of “better if i died” which, given the name of this sequence, he later delivers on. When english Judas sings “Christ, I’d sell out the nation / For I have been saddled with the murder of you”, swedish Judas sings “Jesus, I’ve been deceived / because of my act your blood’s now being spilt”, and instead of ending this first section with “I should be dragged through the slime and the mud”, swedish jesus returns to the theme of character assasination with “i will be cursed as the one behind your murder”.

The swedish translation of the next rework of I Don’t Know How to Love Him also places much more emphasis on Judas’ genuine romantic love for Jesus- we’d be here for hours if i listed everything but here are a few key contrasts. The english has Judas sing “I don’t know how to love him / I don’t know why he moves me”, whereas the swedish has Judas crying while singing “how do I show my love / all I want is to be close to you”. Along with acknowledging Judas already loves Jesus, the entirety of this segment is shifted from Judas singing about Jesus in the third person ‘he’, to a direct address. Judas isn’t performing his sadness, or venting his emotions, he’s emitting one last desperate cry to the man he loves as he sobs on a stage completely shrouded in darkness, and it’s devastating. Peter Johansson lets his voice run raw as he’s belting, and interrupts lines with sobs, and this Judas answers the question of “do you love me too? do you care for me?” with a quiet “no”- Judas is about to go to his death convinced Jesus must hate him, just as Jesus will face his knowing his love inadvertently put him there.

We finally reach Judas’ actual death, and the production’s far more ambiguous (if not negatively geared) depiction of god comes to a head. Judas’ screaming at god the moment he realises that his god essentially forced Judas to be the one to kill Jesus (an act of ultimate cruelty given their love) comes across as horrifying in it’s validity, unlike in other english language productions where it follows the more common characterisation of Judas being an unbeliever who can’t take responsibility for his own actions. When he spits on the ground, screaming “you have murdered me!”, we can’t help but agree- Judas was trying everything he could to stop Jesus from dying, and yet here he is. Most notably, Judas doesn’t set up his own suicide- a noose literally descends from the heavens, already tied, and Judas is literally trapped between the edge of the stage, and the symbol of death behind him. Much like he didn’t choose to kill Jesus, Judas has no choice in his own suicide- it’s suggested to merely be another part of the plan god has for him, and Judas raising his arms to form a crucifixion pose before he finally turns and jumps, disappearing into the depths of the theatre as the rope trails down (somewhat evocative of a leap to hell), highlight the sick joke. Much like Jesus begging in Gethsemane, a plea with god that in anyway implies fault or cruelty is met with silence followed by a death sentence.

When Judas reappears to the broken and bloodied Jesus in Superstar, he appears as more of a twisted hallucination than the literal spirit of Judas. He’s the opposite of everything he was in life, draped in colour, surrounded by red lighting instead of the signature blue, his hair quite literally let down, joking and dancing. Despite singing about him, Judas virtually ignores Jesus for the whole song except when he’s taunting him, snatching his hand away after a broken and desperate Jesus reaches out for the image of his beloved (refuting Judas’ belief that Jesus would die hating him), along with the swedish additions of Judas repeatedly addressing him as “little Jesus”. Where the living Judas was serious, sometimes harsh but always well intention, often paying more attention to Jesus than he received, this Judas is the opposite: light hearted but cruel, not caring about Jesus one bit. It’s somewhat an inversion of the beginning of JCS, where the tormented Judas was constantly reaching out to Jesus, and often met with scorn and insult (see: most of their arguments, this line from Everything’s Alright: “the thought is beautiful but quite unrealistic / yes, even quite stupid”). As the song goes on, and even as Jesus is crucified, the victorious scoring of the Superstar theme ends up reinforcing the cruelty and questioning of god distinctive of this production: Ola Salo’s Jesus is one of the bloodiest Jesus’s (Jesii?) I’ve been able to find, with blood covering his torso, his arms, and all over his face, not in passive dribbles, but violent ‘swooshes’ spreading out from his eyes, emphasising the fear and pain contained within them. As the music suggests how great and wonderful Jesus’ death is, the images straight out of a horror movie before us don’t seem to match up: as both Judas and Jesus question, if no one is understanding what Jesus is saying, why kill him? instead of making a point, you’re ensuring that the falsehoods continue to circulate, unless spreading the true message isn’t really the intent at all. or, simply that Jesus was wrong: his interpretation and teachings of god were far too kind and practical, and the true god really is the one that he briefly saw in the garden of Gethsemane, and that Judas saw before his death- a cruel and vindictive god using them for his own sick purposes. If you're a strong Christian, I'm sure you could watch this production and still believe that God was right (although I think Jesus and Judas being in love counts as blasphemy), but I think in doing so you'd lose part of what makes this production so hard hitting and, as i keep saying, devastating.

that’s pretty much it for this one! i feel like jesus and judas as a queer couple is less significant to this production than the fact that it’s specifically jesus and judas that are in love - they don’t face explicit homophobia as such, although i do think the paratextual and historical associations of queerness (both with them each looking visibly queer, and them as a couple) adds a beautiful dimension by subverting the standard christian teaching of Jesus’ sacrifice as “a love that changed the world” and making the love that truly could have been transformative (and was, to a degree) the love between Jesus and another man, not to mention the way in which queerness is often viewed as radical perfectly upholding the ‘radical’ views of god and the story of Jesus shown in the production. Why wouldn’t the love between two men be the love which has us questioning god, faith, and that which many of us have been taught since birth? Ola Salo has talked about how he’s able to be positive and negative towards christianity, along with how he wanted Jesus and Judas to really represent two sides of the same coin (’faith and intelligence’), and being bisexual along with having alluded to being raised christian (not to mention Breaking Up With God, a song by his band The Ark), it’s not surprising he’s managed to present such a nuanced and layered interpretation of Jesus Christ Superstar that even me, a trans exvangelical, can fall in love with.

UPDATE: @bands-and-hobbits has just let me know that Ola's dad was a priest! Apparently he's said that he liked the organs and the music, but that was all when it comes to christianity, which (when combined with Ola stating in interviews that the JCS soundtrack has been one of his favourite albums since he was 14) makes a lot of sense about the level of familiarity he had with the text giving him confidence to go in and make changes to really capitalised off of some of the themes that are hinted at in the english version- you have enough information to understand how everything works together, but aren't so dedicated to preserving belief that you feel you can't improve/change things (and my god are we glad he did)

#thank you if you made it this far!#also the inherent rhythm in swedish as a language just makes all of the songs sound better i'm gonna say it #english is really hit and miss when it comes to music and can get especially clunky with musicals requiring exposition #also sorry there's so much i've left out !#anyways enjoy #jesus christ superstar #jesus christ superstar swedish arena tour 2014 #jcs #peter johansson #ola salo #also i have barely edited this so i hope it's coherent

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extraintrovertedalien · 3 years

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I should warn you that this was not proofread at all but I just had to post it cuz I said I was gonna do it but then I got distracted by a million other things so it took a long time and there's this au august by @/tsshipmonth2020 next month and I wanna do a few of the prompts there so have this poorly written oneshot that was based on this post by @aplethoraofquotes

Ship: Prinxiety(I mean what else do you expect from me) and a little bit of implied logicality

Word Count: 2017

cw: caps / mention of something on fire / tentacles mention / swearing (just one)

“WHAT IS UP EVERYBODY?” Thomas exclaims for the video intro.

“FINALLY!” Roman angrily but excitedly shouts after. The two other light sides pop up to also complain about the lack of videos in production in the past year, all the while attempting to calm down the royal side.

“Ok, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m doing it now, ok?” Thomas shouts over the complaining sides to divert the issue at hand. “It hasn’t been particularly easy. You know that guys, right?” He continues as he glances at the empty spot at the bottom of the stairs. They all silenced with a guilty look on their faces aside from the logical side, as he has been the one trying to compose the internal panic Thomas continuously endures within the past year. “Okaaaay! Let’s lighten things up a bit! I’m so glad you guys are here because we are having another Q&A!” Thomas excitedly announces to the three sides present.

"Not to put your siren to sleep but, you can't just repeat an episode, Thomas," Roman interrupted.

"I do concede with Roman's opinion here, Thomas. Haven't we talked about the originality of your videos before? Continuously repeating concepts not only bore viewers but also lessens the probability of their engagement to any or all of your future content," Logan discusses.

"I don't think 'all' would be possible, Logan. But, Thomas, isn't there anything else we could do today, maybe? We have been gone for a while, kiddo, so maybe there's other stuff we could do?" Patton adds.

"Calm down, guys. You're all starting to sound like Virgil. But, let me explain first. We're doing a Q&A because, as you said, it's been a long time since the last video AND even longer since the last Q&A, and so much has changed since then," All the sides present appear to be content with the explanation provided.

"Plus," Thomas adds. "This one has a twist," he says directly to the side to his right. Logan slightly nods in approval but remains skeptical. "And, what might that be?" asked Roman.

"The questions will be provided by each of us," Thomas states with pride seen on his face. Roman and Logan met eye to eye with worry and slight fear in their eyes. "I'm sorry. Can you elaborate more on that, Thomas?" Patton worriedly asks.

"Well, we have to think of a question that we want everyone to answer. For example, I think of a question and each of you has to answer it,"

Now, all three sides share glances with worry seen in their faces. "Why do you all seem worried?" Thomas asks with a nervous chuckle. "Roman has been bothering me with this idea for a few months now, I thought you all would be okay with it," All eyes were on the royal side. "I didn't think of that idea…" He trails off.

Realization falls to the four after a few seconds. "Ahh. I forgot. I'm not your only 'imagine dragon'," Roman confirms their suspicions.

~*~*~

"Which one of us scares you the most?" Thomas asks the four sides present.

They all agreed to the concept Thomas has presented and seem to be convinced that 'playing wouldn't hurt.' They eventually got the anxious side to play as well after a few minutes of convincing(and bribing).

"I used to be scared of Janus' scales before but I'm fine with it now. Hmm... Oh! Remus' tentacles really creep me out," Patton answers and shivers a little with the mention of tentacles.

"I'm offended you're asking me! I AM A PRINCE! I have nothing to fear. And none of you can do actual harm to me as far as I'm concerned," The four give the royal side a 'refuse to take that answer' look. "Fine," he sighs in defeat. "Remus," he says with an unexplainable expression on his face. They all agreed before that they're allowed to not explain their answer if they aren't comfortable with it. So far, until the current question, only the anxious side's answers remained without explanation.

It's now Virgil's turn to answer and they wait for it even though they already seemed to know. "Roman," he stated. All the sides were taken aback but refused to ask him to elaborate. Roman's expression was unexplainable and distracted for the duration of the entire game.

~*~*~

After a few, they were now on the last question, and it was Patton's turn. He suggested that it should be a little personal but not too much, and they were still allowed to refuse to explain their answer. They were all skeptical, so they agreed that if the question Patton thought of was too personal for them, they'll just rethink another question and edit out that section for the final cut of the video.

"Okay, what was your worst romantic gesture?" Patton asked. They all nod to signal that they were all comfortable answering the question.

"Well, I am the romantic side so I don't think I even HAVE a bad romantic gesture..." Roman answers but continues to think of an incident. "Oh. One time, I had a crush on someone and I didn't know how to handle it, so I filled their room with heart-shaped confetti…" Roman answered while rubbing the back of his neck from embarrassment.

Virgil's head shot up to look at the royal side. "That was YOU?" He didn't mean it to be that loud. He immediately covered his mouth with his hand and lowered his head back down, avoiding the others' glances.

Roman blushed and froze in place. He forgot that Virgil was right next to him.

Thomas made a mental note to cut the video from after Roman's answer to before Virgil's answer.

"I left them flowers but I never told them it was from me" Virgil tried to make his answer as vague as possible to prevent any more mishaps. Thomas and the other two sides could almost hear the cogs turning inside Roman's head as they heard Virgil's answer.

~*~*~

After their recording session was finished, the four sides sank down to return to the mind palace. They all rose up in their living room except for Virgil as he is the only one allowed to rise up anywhere directly from the real world. An ability Logan plans to learn about soon when Virgil allows him to. Roman retreats to his room, still processing Virgil's answer earlier. While Patton asks Logan to help him prepare their dinner, he also processes Logan's answer to the last question of their game earlier.

*time skip brought to you by Roman's band references*

Virgil was, no surprise, wide awake in the middle of the night, still reading the little notes written on the "confetti." Apparently, Roman thinks that tons of pieces of paper, three inches in size, are considered confetti. Some of them have lines from song lyrics. Some with lines from poems. While some were just plain feelings. How Roman described Virgil's eyes and how beautiful he looked in his makeup that day in small letters written on the piece of paper (front and back) almost made him melt. And how Roman apologized for how he treated Virgil before made him regret not putting a note or not giving the flowers to Roman personally instead of leaving them on the royal side's bedside table.

*flashback brought to you by my hopeless romantic ass*

Virgil just finished his shoot with Thomas for his "80s-Glam-Virgil" look. At first, he wouldn't stop complaining about why he gets to have a glam look while Logan and Patton got the casual look. Eventually, he let it go cuz' he slowly was starting to like the look. After the shoot, he was so exhausted that he couldn't bring himself to rise up in his room directly so he rose up in the mind palace living room and dragged his limp body to his room.

As he opened his door, pieces of paper flooded a small portion of the hallway in front of his room. He looked inside and saw that his entire room was flooded too. He went inside and snapped his finger to close the door and to get the papers outside back into his room. He was too tired to deal with the suspected "prank" at hand so he snapped his finger once again to gather all of the papers into a giant box to keep in his closet for the time being.

The box remained untouched for months.

*end of flashback*

Roman sat on his bed, staring at the red roses he kept in a vase on his dresser. It was made of red heart-shaped pieces of paper glued together to the shape of a rose. Something about it seemed familiar yet mysterious. Roman could sense it was made with the magic from the imagination, but it wasn’t his. And, it definitely wasn’t Remus’, for obvious reasons. There was a bit of dark but endearing and comfortable aura. Roman laid his back on the bed in defeat. Covering his face with his hands as he blushes and groans at the same time. He tried to get some sleep but couldn’t keep his suspicions off his mind.

His knuckles hover on the purple door for a few moments before fully knocking, knowing the side behind it was also wide awake. He heard some paper shuffling and a sliding door closing after, presumably a closet door. A few moments pass before the door opens just enough for a part of Virgil’s face to peer out. “Please tell me this is as important as something burning on fire or I am slamming this door on your face,”

“Uh… Not really but-” Virgil resumes to close the door only for Roman to grab the door frame at the last second. “Ah, shit!” Roman whisper-shouted.

Virgil returned to his bed, leaving Roman in his current state, not even bothering to close the door anymore. Eventually, Roman let himself in, clutching his hand. He sat down on the beanbag in the corner, glaring at the other, while Virgil stayed on his bed with a blank expression. Virgil, then, gestured to Roman expectantly as if to let him continue what he was going to say.

Roman, then, slowly lowered his hand but continued to glare at Virgil. “Was it me that you gave the flowers to?” Roman asked skeptically. Virgil seems to have lost his confidence and slowly lowered his head, unable to look at Roman. “I'm gonna take that as a yes. You know, you could have easily gotten away with giving me flowers if you told me that you also gave the others flowers, seeing that it was Valentines that day,” Roman, amused, grinned smugly.

“Still not as sappy as your stunt,” Virgil snickered, glancing at his closet door. “Yeah, about that… I’m actually glad you didn’t bring it up anymore cuz’ it was actually a spur in-moment kind of thing,” Roman confessed, averting the other’s gaze. Virgil admitted it was actually kind of sweet and that he hasn’t finished reading each of the notes.

“Sooo…” The anxious side trailed off. The tension was so thick that both of the sides were staring at the floor as if it was a fireworks display. “Sooo…? You like me too…?” Roman started. “I mean, I thought I made that pretty clear when I answered the question about our worst romantic gesture,” Virgil chuckled and blushed as he attempted to catch the other’s eye. “Well, I like you too,” Roman blushed, and the two fell in comfortable silence before Virgil patted the spot beside him to invite Roman to sit with him.

Virgil’s smile fell suddenly as he looked at the taller side next to him and asked “So, what now?” Roman looked back at him with a small smile and gently reached for the other’s hand, “You tell me. I’m down with anything you’re comfortable with,” Virgil laid his head on the other’s shoulder with a sad smile, “Can you just stay here for a while?”

“I can do that, Mr. Darkside,” Roman replied with a quiet voice.

Yeah sorry this has "written at 2 am" vibes. Cuz half of it is. Also I just found out that I don't know how to write dialogue by Patton or from his perspective at least. And I am very proud of the band references my 2 am brain thought of

Also thank you to @thethreeunity for the last-minute comments before my sorry ass posts this without giving it a second thought XD love you lots Trin <3

Bonus:

“What is it with you and your band references today?”

“I was hoping you’d notice,” Roman answered with a chuckle.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #prinxiety #prinxiety fic #ts virgil #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #ts prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #implied logicality #em writes

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blackcherrykiss · 3 years

Text

BLOOD BOUNDARIES - Enhypen OT7 Fanfic (ch.3)

[CH.1] [CH.2 ] previous chapters

[CH.4] next chapter

genre: vampire au, romance, drama, mystery, thriller

note: written inspired by enhypen's storyline, given-taken lyrics & teasers. please keep in mind all members are apart of this fanfic and the main theme is mystery/drama!

...

"Kyungeun is that a... Hickey?" You blush at the unfamiliar sight.

"N-no n-not exactly...? I'm actually not allowed to show others this..." She exhaled deeply.

"Allowed?" You questioned her word choice.

"I-I mean, other girls would think I'm a slut if they saw this? I guess..."

"Oh, I understand. The girls here can be so judgemental... I can see why you'd want to hide it," You proceeded to comfort her as you felt unwillingly suspicious of her, "Don't worry! secret safe with me!" You pretended to zip your lips closed. However, you were still sceptical of the lack of confidence she had sewed in her words. But it wasn't like you were going to fish for the real story and details.

"You're literally an angel sent from the heavens..." She fiddled with her slender fingers, "You're so innocent and pure... Please stay that way." She said with a sentimental tone. "What about you? Don't you have any weight on your shoulders? I feel bad that you're always the listening rock." She frowned.

You could tell she would genuinely listen, giving you a bit of confidence to speak up, "Actually, I do have something."

"Mhm? What's up?" She went into an attentive mode.

"Well... You know of Lee Heeseung right? He's a senior, relatively tall, red hair, fawn-like eyes... I'm sure you're friends with him."

"Yeah, I-I know him."

"Well... This sounds a little unrealistic but I've been needing to tell someone cause it was just so bizarre but, yesterday I fell in front of him and scraped my hand." You cracked up in between from the embarrassing story, "And so it started to bleed right?"

Kyungeun stared into space, emotion leaving her eyes, "Right...?"

"Again... I know this sounds so strange but then he..." You hesitated as you got to the weird part, making every word harder to say. "But then... He licked it... T-the blood..." You awaited a laughing face from her but instead received a silent reaction. "Sorry, you probably think I'm lying right? But I swear it happened." You scoffed at yourself.

"No... I believe you..." Kyungeun spoke softly.

"In fact, it actually happened while I was walking back to the dorms with Jungwon." You added in the detail.

"Jungwon!? Are you still hanging around him?!"

"Jeez, he's not that big of a loser... Jungwon's been getting kind of popular amongst the girls actually. I hear some girls talk about him." You were kind of flustered pointing out those observations, quickly fanning away those awkward feelings.

"Do you usually hang out with Jungwon alone?!" She said with concern filled eyes.

"Woah, when you put it that way haha... It sounds scandalous." You whisper even if it's just you two in the change room.

"Look Y/N, you need to stop hanging around with-" She cut herself off when a wave of girls burst into the clearing.

"Hmm? With?"

"Nevermind. Let's go do the warmup!" Her mood flipping like a switch in front of the sudden crowd

You wrap up your morning classes that day, which only moved slower with nothing in your body but water and an hour of sleep.

Packing up after your physics teacher deciding to end class early, you're moving at the speed of light to be the first to the dining hall. That is until you pass Jaeyun packing up his textbooks. Your two stares meet, triggering something bad in your intuition. Many bad feelings seem to be associated with him now that you know what kind of people he hangs around. You begin to walk funny upon such small interaction with him. With mismatched steps, you shuffle through all kinds of laughter and conversations amongst your classmates. You weren't exactly dismissed yet but it was your mission to leave earlier than everyone else and avoid the lunch wave.

With some luck, you slip out of the room successfully entering the vacant hallways. The emptiness and white noise of the halls haunting you. In short, your school was originally a castle built during the 18th century and retained its character over the years. However, the design made it much scarier to roam.

"Y/N... can I ask you something?" You hear a loud echo from behind.

You just know exactly who that is. You don't even need to turn around to know the only possible soul it could be is Sim Jaeyun. You were more surprised he knew your name more than the fact this was the first time you heard his voice clearly.

You hear the heels of his shoes ring against the clean polished tiles.

"Not sure if I'll answer but ask away." You turn around unaware of how close he had gotten. You move your foot back as he looked deep into your soul. It was as if he knew exactly that eye contact was your weakness.

"How much do you know?" He questioned while taking an alarmingly close shift toward you, cornering you.

"About?" You weren't sure of where this conversation was going but you were honestly clueless.

"About us. Don't act like you don't know who I was referring too." He was now just barely outside your 'personal space'.

An airy chuckle escapes you, "Is everyone trying to hide something from me? The answer is nothing. All I know is you're apart of some pretty boy gang and I shouldn't get involved with you."

"Sweetheart once you get involved with us, you can't get out." He bent closer with a sneer.

"Huh? I've only met half of you and you're all weird as hell. All I did was fall in front of Heeseung, how am I involved with you guys?" You push him back with your index finger.

"I heard about that situation. Heeseung's kind of bold isn't he?" Jaeyun snickers, "It's just fun for us to see someone who knows so little yet so much about us now."

You tried to express both your confusion and frustration through your face. It was unbelievable what he was saying but it was interesting that Heeseung would mention the incident to other people. "So little yet so much? I swear my roommates know more about you guys than I do."

"Do they? Or do they just know what we want them to?" He looked satisfied seeing your brain melt trying to process what he meant. "Think a little harder about what Heeseung did to you the other day."

You shook away the long thoughts he left you with, "Look. I lost my appetite earlier from you guys. I have not eaten since last night and I'm about to explode. Can we continue this another time-"

He bit the side of his lower lip, looking around before bringing himself to a distance where he was so close you could kiss him with just the slight movement of breathing, "I'm starving too but I've got my boundaries."

You felt like he was challenging you as a way of hooking you deeper. "Really? Are you sure you aren't crossing those boundaries?" You whisper clearly into his ear, with your head wide above the crook of his neck as you notice Jungwon behind Jaeyun.

#enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #enhypen vampire #enhypen scenarios #yang jungwon #lee heeseung #park jeongseong #sim jaeyun #park sunghoon #kim sunoo #nishimura riki #jungwon fanfic #heeseung fanfic #enhypen jay fanfic #sunghoon fanfic #sunoo fanfic #enhypen niki fanfic

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asleepinawell · 3 years

Text

Been having a lot of Thoughts about the nier series recently and the larger themes of both games and wanted to jot them down and toss them into the void of the internet.

Massive spoilers for nier automata follow, including for ending e. Do not read this if you ever intend to play nier automata. There are spoilers for nier replicant as well, though not for ending e.

One of the biggest themes both nier games tackle is the tragedy of an uncaring universe. Bad things happen to good people, people who think they're good and doing the right thing find out they were actually committing atrocities, the very idea that there's 'good' and 'bad' people is dissected and rejected. At the end of the day, the universe doesn't give a shit about any of us and none of it matters. Enjoy your existential despair!

In nier replicant, the main character starts off as an optimistic young boy who wants to save, not only his sister, but the entire world. After the time skip, nier is a young man whose optimism has (partially) been tarnished and whose goal has narrowed down to just saving his sister. As you move through each route you understand more and more how tragic the world is and how, despite your best intentions, you are only adding to the tragedy of the world. The original 4 endings of nier replicant are all tragic in some way. Ending D has a glimmer of hope in it in the form of nier being able to save kainé at the cost of his own existence, but it's a bittersweet ending and the world is ultimately doomed anyway.

Which brings us to nier automata. Even more so than replicant, automata hammers home the meaningless of everything, the uncaring universe, tragedy both avoidable and unavoidable. The main characters are locked in an endless loop of violence and despair. The worst that could happen, does, again and again. It thrives off the type of tragedy porn I usually hate.

Except....

Except it doesn't. If endings a and b are the opening statement, endings c and d are the facts and body of the essay, but then there's ending e, the concluding paragraph which takes everything we've been told and gives you the chance to draw your own conclusion from it.

Route e starts after you've gotten both ending c and d and is no longer about the characters in the game at all. Route e is about you, the player, and what you believe. It says "we've given you a story of complete despair, we've shown you the universe is unfair and doesn't give a fuck about you, we've shown you things that end in tragedy. despite all of this, do you still believe it's worth fighting for the hope of something better?"

And then it asks you to prove it.

Route e is the ending every fan has asked for when they've said "I'll fight the creators to give my favs a happy ending." Today is your lucky day!

Route e is the ending credits of the game, except that the ending credits have turned into a bullet hell mini game. In fighting the actual credits themselves, you are fighting the game devs. You are saying fuck you I don't believe that everything is pointless. Fighting for better is always worth it. The meaning that we imbue in life is important to us and that matters.

The bullet hell of the end credits starts out fairly simple and gets harder and harder as you go, lasting something like 15 minutes total, which is a brutally long time to be playing something that requires split second timing and 100% of your focus. It's meant to feel insurmountable, just like the challenges the characters in the game faced (the larger plot challenges, not the combat). You will likely die a lot and check points are few and far between.

But there's more to it than that. The first time you die, a prompt comes up:

And then when you die again:

Except now, there’s a message on the screen. A message that appears to be from another player, somewhere in the world.

And again:

(this one really fucked me up, but that’s for a different post).

And then finally:

(thank you user MR-YE-1996)

When you accept the rescue offer, you go back to the bullet hell again, but now you have a wall of other players around your weak little avatar, shielding you from harm. The music, which has been a single vocal track up until now, gains an entire chorus of voices to represent the army of actual players who’ve shown up to save you (and there’s a lot I could say about the use of the (exquisitely good) music in the nier games, and especially about the difference in lyrical themes between ashes of dreams and weight of the world). Every time a bullet hits one of the players surrounding you, there’s a message saying that user’s data has been lost. Users from all over the world are sacrificing themselves to help you. It’s a very nice, heart-warming moment that you still don’t understand the full impact of quite yet.

After you beat the credits, you’re rewarded by a final cutscene. The android protagonists have been reconstructed and will receive a second chance at life. The narration at this point talks about how life exists within the spiral of life and death we are all trapped in. One of the two pods talking points out that even though the androids are being given a second chance at life, there’s a possibility that things will go just as poorly once again. And the other pod agrees, but adds: “However, the possibility of a different future also exists.”

And then the scene ends with this quote: “A future is not given to you. It is something you must take for yourself.”

And this is really the final conclusion of the game. There is no inherent meaning in the universe, so the meaning we give our lives is the most meaningful thing. (And the ‘you’ here isn’t necessarily an individual either. It can be, or it can be humanity as a whole, or even one group). And you, the player, thought that it was worth fighting to give these characters a second chance, and other players out there in the world thought it was worth helping you to do so.

It’s such a wonderfully beautiful piece of meta interpretation posing as a game ending, and also a departure from the final conclusion of previous Yoko Taro games. It feels like a much more mature and nuanced interpretation of the world than the ending of replicant was (I won’t comment on the new ending e of replicant just yet since it didn’t come out that long ago). (Also, for the record, I love nier replicant and the characters in it with my entire heart. This post is not bashing it).

But the game has one more surprise in store for you. After the cutscene ends, you’re given one last choice. The game asks if you have any interest in helping other players the way you were helped. And if you say yes, you��re told that the only way you can do this is to sacrifice all your save data.

I think that sacrifice hits differently for different people. Some people genuinely won’t mind that at all. As someone who probably still has save data from games I played 20 years ago, it felt like a gut punch. To me, save data represents all the time and emotion and energy I’ve put into a game. Games are so deeply important to me in so many ways and have been since my childhood when they were one of the few ways I could escape from a lot of terrible shit going on in my life. (There’s a reason my blog title is what it is). I could talk a lot more about that point, but I’ll leave it by saying that when I saw what the game was asking of me it felt like someone had knocked my legs out from under me.

For more practical players, it also is locking you out of chapter select, the best way to go back and get all the things you missed and grab the achievements/trophies you still need.

The game will point out that you’ll get nothing in return for this (not a lie, there’s no secret reward), that you will likely never know if or who you helped, that you won’t be thanked, that the person you help could be someone you intensely dislike, etc. And with all of this comes the realization that all those people who came to help you in the credits had already done this. Those people whose data was sacrificed to help you get to the final cutscene had already sacrificed their save data to help you.

We’ve now gone from a world where everything is meaningless, to a world where other real actual human beings out there have sacrificed something that represented hours of their time and a varying amount of emotional investment without any hope of reward to help a stranger see a message of hope.

When I was younger, I was more drawn to dark, hopeless stories. Stories about how dark and meaningless the world was. The world was a terrible place then too. 9/11 happened when I was in highschool (an incident that influenced yoko taro’s creation of nier replicant and had a huge impact on me at the time), the pointless wars that happened after and the recession and a million other things seemed to infuse everything with hopelessness. In that world, stories about everything being meaningless and hopeless felt correct. They felt validating. Yes, everything really does suck that much!

That sort of story lost its appeal for me later on. Pointless and horrible things continued to happen, and still continue to happen. The world events of the last few years have been an unnerving reliving of those earlier years, except even worse. The cycles of tragedy are still there with no end in sight. I’m exhausted from all of it. It really does feel hopeless a lot.

But stories that stop at that point no longer appeal to me. Stories like nier automata--stories that say yes, things are terrible, but there’s always hope, you can create your own meaning, it is always worth it to fight for better even if you fail, your life is worthwhile simply for existing--those stories are the ones I think we all need more than anything.

#nier automata #nier automata spoilers #nier spoilers #nier #nier replicant #niermp #mp #sitting around having existential thoughts on a sunday afternoon #as one does #nier meta

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angelixskz · 4 years

Text

see you again; k.sm

↳ pairing; kim seungmin x reader

↳ word count; 3.4k+

↳ genre; fluff,angst, soulmate!au [reincarnation]

↳ summary; with each goodbye came the same five words because this wasn’t the first time the two of you met and it most definitely would not be the last.

↳ a/n; my skz fic for the month :) this is my first time writing a reincarnation!au, so I don’t know what I’m doing. feedback is always appreciated! please enjoy <3

↳ warning(s); death, mentions of blood

He looked so peaceful.

Seungmin glowed under the moon, the light reflecting ethereally on his pale face. He shouldn’t have looked that angelic under the moon’s kiss, not when all the blood was draining from his body and soaking into the material of your clothes. His breathing was calm, way too shallow and much quieter than the hiccups that you relentlessly released as tears streamed down your face. It wasn’t fair how he was able to smile weakly, barely forcing a chuckle out of his mouth as he whispered how silly you were for crying. It wasn’t fair how cold he felt when his hand grasped yours. He mumbled about everyone being too loud with their shouting and the pounding of their feet on the concrete.

You were about to tell him to shut up. You were going to tell him that he was the silly one for taking the arrow to the chest. However, when he languidly blinked his eyes closed and laid more weight onto your arms, the words died in your throat.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me!” you cried out, cupping his face.

“You’re comfy,” he managed to murmur, struggling to open his eyes.

“Seungmin, no,” you frantically brushed your thumb on his cheek, “stay with me.” With your other free hand, you clasped the ring he offered to you just minutes ago. “You didn’t even finish proposing to me.”

Your eyes were open; his eyes were closed. Your temperature was rising; his was lowering. Your pulse pounded in your ears; his was slowing down. You swallowed, his body limp in your arms. He opened his mouth, releasing a promise with his last breath.

You sat up with a gasp, forehead precipitated in sweat and arms shooting upwards as if to lift someone up. You stared down at your clothes. There was no blood. You touched your face. There were some tears. Sighing, you pushed off your blanket and dragged your feet to the kitchen.

The green numbers 4:39 glared from the microwave, casting a tiny glow in the dimly lit apartment. Your fridge hummed loudly as you pressed the dispenser for some water. You relished in the cool contact with the glass cup and savored each drop of water that graced your tongue.

With a satisfied ‘ah’ you placed the cup on the counter. The dream replayed in your mind. There was something about the boy that left you unsettled, like you’ve met him before. You frowned, the name of the unknown boy resting at the tip of your tongue. You dragged out the ‘s’ sound, hoping you’ll remember. It’s not uncommon, however, for your brain to randomly introduce strangers in your dreams and reassure you that you knew them. You only rolled your eyes at your attempts to say the mysterious boy’s name, muttering to yourself that you sounded like a snake. Your focus then drifted to your surroundings.

The apartment was bare. All the, very few, items that belonged to you were safely tucked away in their respective boxes. Your lips pursed into a pout upon remembering that you’d have to carry those boxes down several flights of stairs since the elevator was broken. Clicking your tongue, you refilled your cup once more and made your way back to your bedroom.

A gloomy, discontent overcast sat on your head as the dream lingered in the back of your mind. Bits and pieces were slowly disappearing from your memory. However, those five, muffled promising words stood out to you and quietly drizzled in your ears.

After contemplating for a good ten minutes, you grabbed your keys and made your way to the front door. It was your first day off. A day where you were free to do what you wanted and be stress free. So why not spend that day exploring the area?

As you locked your apartment door, you heard your next door neighbor’s door click shut. In the whole two weeks that you’ve been existing in this new building, you never once saw the person who lived next door.

“Oh, that guy?” the dimpled guard (he always greeted you whenever you passed by) scratched his chin. “Well, I see him out pretty frequently. Most of the time, though, he arrives when you leave, or you leave when he arrives,” he chuckled, “it’s like the two of you always miss each other.”

You pushed Chan’s words to the back of your mind and ignored the disappointment that swirled in your stomach. While you didn’t plan to be best buds with the boy who was a wall away, you thought it’d be nice to actually know someone other than the friendly guard. You shook your head, breaking away your lingering gaze on the gold numbers on the door next to yours.

He has his own life, and so do you.

You found yourself driving to a nearby cafe. It looked fairly busy and your hand hesitated to open the door, for you worried the wait would be long. Waving off the petty concern, you swung open the door. A harsh wave of deja vu hit you when you stepped into the bustling room. The sky dimmed and the people in the cafe faded away.

The stars signaled that the cafe was closed, yet you knocked on the locked door anyway.

He didn’t ignore you, he invited you in. He didn’t shout at you, he offered you some tea. He didn’t sigh in disappointment, he gave you a patient smile. And you knew. You knew he was filled with questions, you knew how hurt he was, yet he sat there. He sat there with expectant eyes and open arms.

You hated it.

You twiddled your thumbs, eyes lowered to the recently cleaned table.

“I’m moving.”

His voice was quiet, stable, but quiet. “Is that why you were avoiding me?”

“I thought it’d be best if you hated me,” you mumbled, a lump lodged in your throat, “that way, it would be easier to say goodbye.”

Seungmin took your hands into his, “First of all, I don’t hate you. I never have, and I never will.”

You sniffled, still refusing to look at him.

“And secondly,” he lifted your chin, “we won’t be saying goodbye.”

There were his eyes. You wanted to laugh at all the scientists who located the galaxy up high in the sky and out of this world when each and every star, each plant, each spec of dust, was floating in Seungmin’s eyes; the galaxy wasn’t up there, it was right here. The corner of his mouth quirked up at the cute furrow of confusion in your brows. “What do you mean, Seung? I’m moving.”

he chuckled, “don’t you remember?”

and there were those five words again.

“I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

You flinched at the touch of the waiter’s hand on your shoulder. You blinked at him, the face of the boy in your flashback disappearing and slowly dissolving into a freckled boy. He stood there with concerned eyes and a tray full of broken glass. His eyes weren’t the same. “I’m fine,” you quickly told him, making your way out towards the exit.

Not a minute later, a guy entered the cafe. “Woah, Felix, what happened here?”

You, on the other hand, sat in your car, head spinning as nausea crept up your throat. You didn’t remember. You don’t know what that boy, s- seu- You cried in frustration as nothing but an ‘s’ sound flowed off your tongue.

Just as the dream you had two weeks, bits and pieces started to fade away. You don’t remember why you were crying, you don’t remember what his reassurances were, and you don’t remember hiss name.

What bothered you the most, were the five words he told you. It was a melody you didn’t know the lyrics to.

“Have a nice night.”

You replied with a brief ‘you too’ before shoving your wallet into your pocket and grabbing the grocery bags filled with junk food. After that incident at the cafe, you’ve been finding it hard to do anything other than laze around your apartment all day.

You let out a yawn. Today was no different. You woke up to lay in bed for the whole morning, only to rummage through your near empty fridge and pushed away your thoughts on finishing the essay that’s due in two days. It could wait, you thought, pressing play on the remote.

You had successfully stared at a blinking cursor for fifteen minutes before feeling the sudden urge to sleep, which you did. You woke up an hour and a half later, the sun setting outside of your window.

Another day was wasted.

Although you barely did anything, your stomach growled for food. That’s how you ended up walking to the convenience store across your apartment complex, hoping to fulfill your hunger with some instant ramyeon.

Your grip on the plastic bags tightened as you passed by an alleyway. The looming darkness caught your eye, but you refused to explore the curiosity. At least, that’s what you were hoping to do. Instead, your feet paused, body frozen as you heard rummaging in the trash can.

And suddenly, the darkness consumed you.

“Come here kitty,” you beckoned, waving an open can of tuna in front of the hissing cat. You frowned, “Okay, okay.” You gently placed it in front of him, squatting calmly as Seungmin, you named him, started to slowly make his way out of the tattered box.

“Hey Seungmin,” you cooed, the cat’s ears flattening at your tone.

“How do you know my name?”

You jumped up, the shaggy, orange cat following suit before scurrying away into the darkness. You turned around and glared at the stranger. “He was just about to eat, you kn-”

Without any warning, the stranger shoved you further into the alleyway, pushing you against the wall and covering your mouth with his hand. You protested, pushing his shoulders and biting his finger. He hissed at the pain, body still pressed against yours as he quickly peeked towards where the lamppost was.

“Help!” you shouted, hearing heavy footsteps coming your way.

His eyes widened, “shut up.”

You only pushed his unmoving figure, mouth opening to shout louder. However, before you could even have a chance to, the stranger put his finger on your lips.

“I will kiss you if you shout again,” he warned.

You blinked at the boy, his face still hard to see under the shadow of the brick walls surrounding the two of you. “Isn’t that like, harassment?”

It was hard to see, but you could tell the boy rolled his eyes. “Just be quiet or else you’ll find out the real definition of harassment, and those guys won’t be as nice as me.”

“Seungmin,” you whispered, his name breezing through your teeth as if that was the first word you ever learned.

He turned his head to you, “So you really do know my name.”

“Well, that’s what I named the cat, but apparently it’s your name too.”

He raised his brows at your comment, about to say something else before the shouting and footsteps got louder. You felt your heartbeat pick up and you squeezed your eyes shut. He pressed you closer to the wall, almost as if the two of you could magically phase through the bricks and disappear.

You held your breath as you heard footsteps falter at the entrance of the alley. Seungmin leaned his forehead against yours, arms clutching around you. It was oddly comforting.

“There’s nothing here, let’s go!” yelled a gruff voice.

For a few minutes the two of you stood there. You slowly opened your eyes, shocked to see the boy already staring at you. It was unfortunate that your eyes adjusted to the darkness because your, once normally beating heart, picked up the pace and started beating like you finished jogging a marathon.

“I think they’re gone,” you whispered.

He cleared his throat, immediately backing away from you, “right.”

You swallowed, dazed by how cold it felt without him near. Seungmin didn’t spare you a glance, simply turning away and making his way out to the sidewalk.

“Wait,” you called out, catching up to him. Your breath was taken away, words lost at the familiarity you felt thru his gaze. You shook your head, eyes focusing on the cuts he had on his face. “Don’t you want to get bandaged up?”

He grinned at your offer. “Sorry, sweetpea, but I have to keep moving.”

You were disappointed by his rejection.

“But,” he added, “there’s always the possibility…”

“A possibility…” you repeated, trailing off just as he did.

The way his grin widened made your stomach flip, but the five words he uttered, made your head spin.

“I don’t have any money!” you yelped, heart palpitating in your chest when the cat sauntered past you. The night air created goosebumps on your arms and it sadly did not make up for the lost warmth you got from the stranger in your… dream? How odd to randomly dream at a moment like this.

As quickly as the dream appeared, it left.

You let out a loud breath as the cat meowed. You made a face at the cat who tilted her head innocently. “Don’t look at me like that,” the cat meowed again, “I genuinely thought you were a person who was going to mug me.”

The cat walked towards you, rubbing her head against your leg.

“Yeah, yeah,” you tsked, “I get it. You’re cute, but I don’t have any food you can eat.”

The cat then started to purr. You sighed, “Wait here.”

Walking back to the convenience store with your bags, you shot a smile towards the yawning cashier. “You’re back,” he commented.

You planted the cans of cat food on the counter. “Yes I am,” you glanced at his name tag, “Jeongin.”

He scanned the items, “How funny.”

You raised your brows at his statement, handing him your card. “What is?”

“Some guy also bought the same thing just a few minutes ago,” he chuckled.

Those words shouldn’t have weighed so heavily, but they left you feeling empty, like you missed something very important.

“That is funny,” you mumbled, a slight pounding in your head recalling indecipherable words to ring in your ears.

You made your way back to the alleyway. “Kitty, hey kitty!” you called out, slowly approaching the cat. You paused when you realized she was eating. “Huh,” you frowned.

You really felt like you missed something important.

“Are you sure you don’t feel tired?” Chan greeted, gesturing towards your eyes as you exited the elevator.

“Is this your way of telling me I have eye bags?” you pursed, eyes squinting at his accusation.

He shrugged, “I’m just saying that, judging from the weight under your eyes and how you seem to be yawning every time I see you, that maybe you’re tired.”

You yawned. “See,” he pointed out.

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe I’ve been a little restless at night, but”—you wiggled your finger—“that’s just because I feel…”

“Restless?” Chan guessed.

“Wow, you’re so smart,” you deadpanned, rolling your eyes at his ‘thank you.’ “Anyways, as I was saying, I’ve been feeling, for a lack of a better word, incomplete lately, like I’m forgetting, or missing something. And I’ve triple checked that I turned in all my assignments due on Friday.”

Chan watched as you took a moment to mentally check off everything that was due.

“Have you ever...dreamt while being awake?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s called daydreaming, y/n,” Chan lightly laughed.

“No, no! Like- like you feel like you’ve been to this place before-.”

Your friend interrupted you, placing a hand on your forehead, “Are you alright? Maybe you should go back to bed.”

You shook your head, pushing off his hand, “I’m fine, it’s just…”

“That deja vu feeling?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, “like I’ve been here before.”

You exhaled sharply and turned to Chan, “Do you have some time to spare?”

“So, you’re telling me that you’ve been having these...dreams ever since you were young?”

You laughed, “Oh no! No, no. It only started having these when I moved here.”

He hummed, And you get a heavy sense of deja vu?”

You nodded your head, “Usually accompanied with a headache.”

“The same guy, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Those, um, dreams?” he clicked his tongue, “they feel real?”

“Strangely, yes. And for some reason, I can never remember the guy’s name, nor the last words he says to me before I’m brought back to reality.”

Chan was silent for a moment, finger tapping on his chin as he pondered. “What if they’re memories?”

“Memories?”

He leaned back in his seat, “Yeah, you know, a recollection of something. What if you’re remembering stuff from your past lives or something.”

“Past lives?”

He chuckled, “Why do you keep repeating everything I say?”

You glared at him, “Because it doesn’t make sense.”

“My grandma used to tell me about soulmates and reincarnation,” he commented, “maybe that’s what’s happening to you.”

“Reincar-” you stopped yourself from repeating what he said upon seeing his raised eyebrows, “What about it?”

“Two people,soulmates, are reincarnated in different lives and in each life, they always find each other.”

“Why would I be getting these dreams then?”

“I don’t know. You’re manifesting,” he suggested, “in hopes that your soulmate will find you soon.”

You gagged, “Soulmates aren’t real.”

“That’s what you think,” he cheekily grinned.

You shook your head, “No, it’s what I know.” You got up from the couch and walked to your mailbox; it’s what you came down to the lobby for anyway.

“You never know, y/n,” Chan called from behind you, tone sing-songy.

You ignored him. “Hey, did the mail come today?”

“Yes it did.”

“Do you recall seeing mail getting put into my box?” you asked, opening and closing the door of your mailbox.

He hummed, “I think so.”

You opened the door for the nth time, disappointed when the mail didn’t magically appear, “I don’t think so.”

“Maybe you don’t have any mail?”

You pursed your lips, “Maybe. If that’s the case, then I came down here for nothing.”

“You got to talk to me, though,” Chan reminded you.

“And what did I get out of talking to you?” you chided, looking at him with crossed arms.

He feigned a hurt expression, “You wound me, you know that?”

“You commented on my eye bags.”

“Like a good friend should,” he smiled, walking you to the elevator, “you know, I think your manifestation will pay off real soon.” He pressed the ‘up’ button, “but for now, you should go back to sleep. Maybe you’ll dream more of your soulmate.”

The doors to the elevator opened. “Again, soulmates-”

“Are closer than you think,” he finished, pushing you into the elevator. “Sweet dreams!”

You glared at him as the doors closed. “Curse you Chan,” you muttered, angrily pressing the ‘9’ button, “putting that stupid thought of soulmates into my head.”

Unfortunately, the thought lingered and overstayed its visit in your mind.

It was simply a coincidence that his face was the same in every dream, you thought, that was just your mind making up your dream boy. You found yourself sounding out the ‘s’ sound.

“What was his name?” you frowned, “seung…” You hummed in uncertainty as you exited the elevator, slowly walking to your apartment. “Seung,” you kept repeating, keys jingling as you attempted to find the right one.

You pushed in the key, struggling to twist it. “Seungcheol? No, that doesn’t sound right.” You pulled out the key, jamming it back inside the keyhole before twisting it again. “Seungmin!” you gasped, the door unlocking.

“Do I know you?”

You paused, his voice ringing in your ears. Quickly, you turned, vocabulary disintegrating when you saw his face. You recognized the slope of his nose and the blush of his lips. You recognized the arch of his brows and the apples of his cheeks. Most of all, you recognized the slight twinkling in his eyes.

He stood there, face scrunched in thought. “I dreamed about you,” he blurted, the thought leaving his mouth before it processed in his brain. “I- yikes, he nervously chuckled, scratching the nape of his neck, “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

Your heart swelled at the red that tinted his ears.

“Seungmin,” you tested out.

He blinked at his name being called

“My dream boy,” you grinned, “would you believe me if I said I dreamt about you too?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” A smile tugged his way into his lips and he looked at the mail in his hands, your name in bold letters. “We’ll see each other again.”

#inkidz #stayhavennet #askz.seungmin #seungmin fluff #skz fluff #seungmin imagines #seungmin scenarios #skz imagines #skz scenarios #kim seungmin #skz seungmin #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #seungmin angst #skz angst #stray kids angst #idk how to tag this

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padfootagain · 4 years

Text

Girl Crush (XXX)

Chapter 30: Farewell Sweetpea Memories

HERE WE GO!!!! New chapter! Long one! I hope you all like this chapter!

There will be angst, BUT it's also going to start getting better!!!! So hold on!!! You'll see, the end of this chapter is heading in the right direction!!

I don't know if you've seen the interview Harry did with Howard Stern, but that guy was a complete asshole throughout the whole thing. I'm using his energy (and him, actually) in one of the scenes, you'll see. Do I exaggerate the type of nonsense he was speaking? Honestly, I don't think that I am exaggerating too much, the guy was a complete jerk. Thanks for objectifying women for an hour and a half, pal!

Anyway, that was my little angry disclaimer, cause I used his name in the chapter, so had to put it here. Using tons of lyrics too, you'll see :)

And… actually, we'll soon say goodbye to this fic, because… the next chapter will be our last. I know, it's sad, but we have a chapter left!

Anyway, please, come scream at me, punch me, hug me... anything you want, I am here to receive whatever your reaction might be at the end of this very long chapter!

Word Count 6583

You hadn't spoken to him in three months. Thirteen weeks. It felt like forever.

Harry's album had just come out, and he was drowning in interviews and performances now.

He had never found all these annoying questions about his private life more ironic. While every host asked him about how he could get any woman he wanted, or commented on his looks, or his charms, or whatever other ridiculous comment they could come up with, it turned out that the only one he had truly loved had given her heart to another man.

The irony was bitter to say the least.

Still, he had an album to promote. He had a tour to prepare. He had talk-shows to attend and interviews to reply to. And all the while, he had to hide that his heart was broken. This album he had spent so long writing, that was so personal, that he was so excited to show the world suddenly meant little to him. When he listened to it now, he thought of how you wouldn’t hear it with him for the first time. Chances were that you would not listen to it at all. The more he thought about it, since that evening he had dropped his album at your door, the more he reckoned that you wouldn't listen to it. Your deafening silence was the final sign, it seemed.

Of course he couldn't blame you. You loved someone else. He knew all too well that no one could control their heart, and if yours didn't belong to him, all he could do was hope that you were happy with whoever you loved.

He sang his songs on a few shows, and every time he wondered if you were listening, somewhere out there. You used to keep track of his interviews, would use them to tease him all the time. Oh, how he wished you were still listening, wherever you were…

He thought that simply being away and not talking to you or about you would make your ghost go away. But it seemed that the more time the two of you spent apart, the more he thought of you.

Where were you? Were you home? How was your shop doing? Did you get these peonies you loved so much? Were you happy?

Yes, that was the main question. The one that kept him up at night and seemed to never disappear from his thoughts no matter what he was busy at.

Were you happy?

He needed to know. He needed to hear the answer to that question. Because if you were happy without him, then it was okay. A voice in his mind told him that if you were happy, he could move on. He wasn't going to pretend that it would be easy, but he would move on. He would accept it. He just needed to hear that you were happy without him, he wouldn't get closure otherwise.

So, for the first time in three months, he picked up his phone and called your number, hoping you hadn't blocked him.

He let the phone ring but fell onto your voicemail.

"Hey, Y/N. It's Harry. How are you? I… I hope you're doing okay. Look I… I just… I wanted to talk to you, just… hum... I know you probably don't want to hear from me right now after what happened, but…"

He closed his eyes and heaved a deep sigh. He couldn't even finish one sentence.

"I'm not trying to make you change your mind, I… I just need to see you one last time. Just… I mean, we were friends for so long and… I know that I fucked up and it's my fault, but… I feel like it would help me to get closure, if we could speak one last time. Could you call me back, please? I promise you, it won't take long I just… want to make sure you're okay, that's all. Call me back, please."

And you almost did.

Because the truth was, you missed him. You missed him so much, it felt like a part of you had been torn apart. You missed him so much sometimes it was hard to breathe. But then, he was your best friend, and that was why, right?

So, you didn't call him back. You couldn't gather the strength to erase his voicemail either. You would, eventually, you just needed a little time… right?

A week passed, but your life was unchanged. And in an attempt to avoid thinking about how much you missed Harry, and question yourself too much, you threw yourself into work.

You spent almost all your time there. You arrived way before the shop would open and left late at night. You kept yourself busy by creating new bouquets, and pretending to check if you were selling enough to stay afloat. But the truth was, all was going well for now in your shop. People were attracted by the novelty at first, but some had come back already. You guessed you were doing a good job.

You didn't listen to Harry's album. You didn't listen to his interviews. You didn't know what he was doing, and on which show he was, and what he was singing. A part of you worried about him constantly: was he alright? Did he sleep enough? What questions were asked? You hoped for nothing too rude…

But then, you knew that if you let yourself drown in his music or his interviews, you wouldn't get over him. You couldn't pretend that you were moving forward with your life and yet keep up with whatever he was doing. You simply couldn't. Cutting ties was all you could do.

And it was painful, and it asked what you guessed was strength, although, maybe it was madness. Anyway, days passed one by one, and you pretended that you were fine. You were so good at hiding your anxiety and problems to the world that you almost convinced yourself too that you were okay.

Two weeks had passed since Harry's voicemail, and you were rearranging a bouquet of peonies. They reminded you of him and the necklace he had given to you long ago, but you pretended that it wasn't why you were making your eighth bouquet with these flowers of the day.

For once during the day, the shop was empty, and you took your time to get a coffee and arrange the flowers with care. You didn't notice the man outside, who was peering in the shop and looking at the flowers before the front door.

Harry let his fingers wander across the soft petals. There were peonies everywhere. A smile formed on his lips at the sight.

Everything seemed to go well inside. He had spent about half an hour hesitating, watching the shop from afar, and it seemed busy with clients all along. But he had never doubted that your shop would be a stunning success, just like you had never doubted him…

He looked inside by the glass windows, and spotted you there, behind the counter. You were making a bouquet. You looked tired, but then, he guessed you had been very busy, with your new shop to manage.

You still looked so beautiful though…

Did he have the right to get in? Did he have the right to disturb you? To step back into your life, even if he meant for it to last but for an incident?

For a moment, he decided against it once more, his mind had kept on changing his decision for the past two hours. He turned around and was ready to leave.

But he needed to know if you were okay.

So instead of walking away, he turned to the door, and walked in.

The little bell on the door rang and you looked up with a polite smile on your lips, but the gesture vanished the second your eyes landed on his green gaze.

What was Harry doing here?

"Hi, Y/N."

You weren't sure were you breathing or not. You wanted to cry.

He took a couple of steps more, but remained at a fair distance from you, as if he were afraid to scare you away if he came too close. Before your silence, he cleared his throat and spoke again.

"I… How's the shop doing?"

You shook your head.

"You shouldn't be here, Harry."

He forced an understanding smile, nodding, struggling to keep the tears from spilling.

"I… I know. You're right. I… I just… did you get my voicemail?"

You could have lied. You guessed it wouldn't have hurt him so much then. You could have pretended that you hadn't called him back because you didn't know that he had called in the first place. It would spare him some pain, but that was lying, and you reckoned that on the long run, it wouldn't help.

"Yes, I did have your voicemail."

He nodded again.

"I… I just… I just wanted to check on you. Make sure you were okay. That's all."

"I'm okay," you replied. "You should leave now."

You turned your back to him, hoping he would leave. But you didn't hear any footsteps.

There were a million things that he wanted to tell you, and a million more that he wanted you to answer. About you, and Gareth, and did you regret all that had happened too? Did you miss him all the time just like he did? Did you miss him sometimes? Did you miss him at all…?

But he reckoned that he didn't want to spoil the couple of minutes he had before you would get angry and he would have to leave. So he kept his questions for himself and went for a amore casual subject although it still mattered to him.

"My album is out. Did you listen to it?"

You shook your head, your back still to him, and he nodded once more. He was relieved you weren't looking at him though, it gave him a chance to brush away the tears at the corner of his eyes unnoticed.

"I was expecting that," he went on. "'Was just curious. I… you're sure you're okay?"

He gulped, before asking the main question he had come here to ask.

"Are you… are you happy with him?"

You looked up at the ceiling, an old trick to keep the tears from falling, but it didn't help with the fact that your throat was so tight now, you could barely breathe.

Were you happy? You had been terrified to ask yourself this question ever since Harry had been pushed out of your life. And now… now you had to answer it. You not only needed to face the question, but you also needed to lie about the answer.

What about this value of yours about never lying to Harry?

But how could you tell him that you missed him so much your entire life ached. Could you tell him that the pain of not having him by your side the way you used to had made you numb to everything else?

Of course, you couldn't. You couldn't even tell this truth to yourself, how could you speak the words aloud then?

"Yes, I am."

"Good."

You heard him sniffing, although you knew he was trying hard to not make a sound.

"I… I'm gonna go now," he spoke again. "I… I won't be bothering you anymore. I'm sorry if I did bother you by coming here today. I… I didn't mean to. I… I'll leave you alone, from now on."

You waited for the sound of his footsteps to echo through the shop, but you were only met by silence.

"I… I have a show to record, like a… an event," Harry went on instead, "and it's… It's in L.A, so I thought, maybe you'd like to come. Which is stupid, because I just told you that I would leave you alone, and you clearly… don't need me anymore. So, that's… silly… but… I brought two tickets, so… Maybe you can…"

His voice broke, and he had to clear his throat to be able to speak again. He hurriedly swiped the tears away before they would run down his cheeks.

"Maybe you can give them to someone who would be interested. Jas perhaps? I haven't seen her since that day either. I… I'll put them on the counter."

He took an envelope out of the pocket of his jacket, and put it on the counter, as he had announced. His eyes lingered on the peonies you had left there, on your mug still half-full with a coffee that was growing cold. He leaned against the counter, his hands splayed on the wood, and if you had turned now, you would have noticed that he hadn't even bothered to put on his rings that morning.

"I… I'm gonna go now," he repeated, stalling, and he hoped you would ask him not to leave like he had never hoped for anything before. And maybe that was why he kept on talking, why he was buying himself some time: because he wanted to spend more time with you, but also because he was giving you more chances to change your mind too, no matter how much of a fool's hope that was. "But… huh… I want you to know, before I go… No matter when, or why, if you ever need anything, I'll always be here for you. I'm not going to contact you again, I don't think that's what you would want me to do, so I'll leave you alone. But if you need me one day, doesn't matter if it's in a week, in a month or in fifty years, I'll be here. Okay? I'll always be here. And I hope… I wish you all the happiness in the world. I hope you and Gareth will be happy. Thinking back about it, I think you were right. I see it now. He'll love you better than I ever could."

His voice broke again, but after a silent moment, you still didn't make a sound. He reckoned it was time to go. He took a step back, took a few seconds to take you in: your frame before the window, sun coming in and embracing your form, surrounded by flowers. And if he longed for the chance to see you like this every day for the rest of his life, it wasn't his decision to make. It was only yours to decide who would have that honour, and you had given that power to someone else.

It was time for him to let you go.

"Goodbye, Y/N."

Slowly, he turned around and walked to the door, reluctant movements he had to make anyway. Steps after steps, he was slowing down, each of them harder to take than the previous one, until he stopped before the door, rising his hand to the doorknob but hesitating one last time, almost as if he was giving you one last chance, again.

He opened the door.

"Harry, don't go…"

Your voice was but a whisper made hoarse and drenched by tears, a shaky sound so fragile that it barely reached the door. It didn't matter though.

The bell upon the door had already rang, and the door had closed, and Harry was gone before you spoke his name.

Gareth was talking to you, you knew he was. Was it about his day? About his friends? About his job? The topic had long since been lost to you. You heard his voice in the background while your mind wandered to other thoughts, like a song playing in the next room that you could hear but couldn't focus on.

You nodded from time to time, or gave an occasional 'yes' to pretend you were listening. And you felt guilty for not giving your boyfriend the attention he deserved, and you should have been listening to him. You should have been interested by most of the things he talked about. But your thoughts made a storm in your head that was way too vivid for you to pay attention to anything else.

Harry's silhouette walking out of your flower shop was the only thing you could see. A picture that your mind painted against your eyelids every time you closed your eyes. You saw his face first on everyone you came across.

He was your best friend, after all, and maybe that was normal to feel like this when you lost someone who was so dear to you. But another voice, right there, at the back of your head, whispered an unspoken truth.

You missed Harry more than you had ever missed Gareth. You ached at the thought of him more than you had been pained by anything else. And when you thought of the happy memories you shared, your heart felt both broken and warm, as if it recognized one of its missing pieces.

Was the love that your heart held for him only platonic if you wondered who were the women he spoke of in his songs and wished the answer could be your name?

You knew that Harry had an interview today on the radio with Howard Stern. You had heard the announcement the day before, and you were dying to listen to it. Would you dare though?

Your reason ordered you not to do it, your heart begged you to hear his voice again.

He had come to your flower shop worrying about you, but he wasn't the only one permanently wondering about the other's well-being. You woke up in the middle of the night worried that he wouldn't sleep these days. You thought about how nervous he became before big interviews, when he had to perform there, and you found yourself making sandwiches for him to make sure that he would eat something that day, the same way you had done dozens of times before, that you would never bring to him.

Maybe you could listen to the interview… just for a few minutes. He would never know. Gareth didn't have to know either. But the very thought of hiding it from him made you feel like a terrible person.

"Have you talked to Harry lately?"

His name being spoken finally pulled your attention back to Gareth.

"Hum… Not since he dropped by at the shop the other day."

"It's really sad that the two of you can't repair whatever went wrong between you. You were friends for a long time."

"Yeah… but… I don't think that we can go back to what we were before."

"I heard about an interview today, are you going to listen to it?"

You hesitated, but shook your head.

"I don't think so."

Gareth studied your expression, trying to read through you. He shrugged.

"I'm not gonna lie, I didn't like him much anyway. I'm not very surprised that he ended up doing something that made you mad enough to not want to talk to him."

You clenched your jaw.

"He's a good person. It wasn't really his fault."

And you were earnest as you spoke those words. Harry had crossed a line that night, but you were far from innocent. And it wasn't his fault if his feelings for you had drifted towards something they weren't supposed to. You knew him well enough to know that he didn't mean to hurt you. You weren't even angry at him, you only felt guilty. But you didn't blame him for it, your own messy head and blurred feelings were not his doing, it was yours.

You suddenly felt an unbearable craving for something containing chocolate. Anything, really. Where you stress-eating again? Probably… but you didn't have it in you at that moment to resist.

You stood from your spot on the couch to walk to the fridge, but there was nothing there. You opened all your cupboards, but your kitchen was empty. Only one cookie was left, and that would be far from enough. You guessed that with all that had happened, you had forgotten to replenish that box you usually kept full of sweets.

Actually, going out to get some seemed like a great idea all of a sudden, so you grabbed your car keys instead.

"I'm gonna buy a few snacks," you told your boyfriend. "Won't be too long."

Before he could answer you were grabbing your jacket and headed for the door.

It was a short drive to the closest store, but you reckoned that it would do you good to be on your own for a while, so you headed further downtown instead, to another convenient store a little further away.

The radio was turned on automatically as you started driving, and you didn't pay enough attention to it to be bothered to turn it off. It was only some kind of add for a product you wouldn’t need.

You were waiting at a red light though when his voice filled up your car.

You checked the station. But there was no doubt when he spoke again, you could have recognized that voice anywhere. Hell, it haunted your dreams.

It was Harry.

Your first instinct was to turn it all off, but you stopped yourself as your hand was only inches away from the right button.

"Yeah, I can't wait to be on tour again, to be honest. I think… I've grown to enjoy all the steps of the process, from writing to releasing music that I've made myself. But there's nothing like singing along with a full crowd. Performing live is still my favourite part of it all. Being with the fans and seeing their reaction to the songs is amaz..."

The honking car behind you brought your mind back to the present and to the light that had turned green. You raised your hand in apology to the car behind you and hurried forward. The radio was still on.

Your throat had tightened, and you were surprised that your eyes weren't already filled with tears. But no matter your racing heart, you found out that hearing his voice soothed the aching in your chest.

So instead of pushing him away, you let his voice surround you in your tiny car, in hope it would heal everything broken inside you and make all your doubts and worries disappear.

And for a while, it worked.

"I mean, people come to your show, and they support you by buying a ticket. But it's not the most important part to me. They support you by singing along to songs that you wrote months before in a dark room surrounded by a bunch of people as crazy as you, and they love it, and they cheer when you're done singing… it's amazing."

"Yeah, but the part when they buy the tickets is quite important to the label, right?" Howard Stern's voice emerged from what seemed to be nothing, and Harry chuckled in response.

"I guess."

The conversation went on, and you ended up driving pointlessly through the city of angels. You didn't even recognize the road you were on now, but didn't care at all. All you cared about was listening to his voice again, and it hurt so much and yet it healed everything. How could something that broke you also fix all your scars?

But the set of questions asked by the radio host drifted from the album to more personal matters, and your hands tightened around the stirring wheel. You had heard that kind of questions dozens of times before, but they still made you so mad.

They all assumed what kind of man Harry was, when he wasn't like that all. It didn't matter how many times he proved them wrong or denied it all, the same questions came back again and again every single time.

"Are you single?"

"I am, yeah." You heard the quiet nod in Harry's voice, and could imagine him shifting his weight uncomfortably on his chair or stool.

"For you that's a choice though, isn't it?"

"Umm… not… not really, no," Harry answered slowly, letting out an uncomfortable and almost anxious chuckle.

You knew how these questions made him feel, and all you wanted to do then was to rush to this studio, wherever it might be, and slap some sense in that interviewer.

But all you could do was keep on listening to the interview and drive further on still.

"I mean… let's be honest here for a second. You have everything. Every woman falls in love with you in the span of minutes. That's an incredible power, man. And I'm not saying that in a bad sense, I'm saying that you can literally choose any woman you want and you'll have her."

"That's not how it works," Harry replied and here again, you could hear that he was shaking his head and clenching his jaw by now, sign that his discomfort was turning into something closer to anger. But Harry was polite to an annoying degree in these circumstances, so you knew that he wouldn't get mad, no matter what was passing through his mind at that moment.

You didn't know, though, that things were different this time. Harry was exhausted, he barely slept these days. And he missed you, God, he missed you so terribly. The pain in his chest had numbed the rest of his body as it spread, except for the constant ache in his heart. Even at night, your memory kept him awake.

And he was tired of these questions, he truly was. The question had never made less sense than it did now.

He could have any woman he wanted? It couldn't be further from the truth. The woman he loved didn't feel the way he did, and he reckoned you never would.

"I mean, it does! For you, it does!" Stern went on, oblivious to the obvious unease that had settled through his studio, including the members of Harry's band who looked down at their feet or gave Harry concerned looks. "And that's fucking amazing! That's the dream life! You're not gonna be heartbroken because someone you liked pushed you away. You can just have whoever you want."

And for once, when Harry answered, his voice wasn't just distant, but cold as ice. The tone clearly carrying a cool anger that asked nothing but a spark to turn into full flames.

"You're very wrong about me. I don't know what else to tell you. It's just wrong. We should talk more about the album though."

Stern was clearly not used to this kind of reactions, and neither was anyone who knew Harry. His words were still polite, and rather innocent, but his tone was everything but friendly now. Jeffrey was frowning hard in a corner, while the rest of his friends stared at him with surprise.

In your car, you pulled over, feeling angry tears rushing to your eyes and blurring the road ahead.

"I'm just stating facts here, man," Stern didn't back down. "Girls just go crazy around you. They just all fall for you. But it's amazing! It's a great gift! It means you're gonna be free of rejection and of that kind of heartache."

You almost expected him to get angry this time. But he didn't. Instead, his voice grew hoarse as his throat tightened.

"That's not true. I wish it was though. But that's not true. And I can testify first hand that loving someone with your entire being isn't always enough to make them feel the same about you too. Sometimes, it's not enough to love someone more than yourself to make them choose you."

He cleared his throat while a heavy silence settled on the studio.

"Let's talk about another song, shall we?" Harry asked, changing the subject, but you didn't need to see him to know that he was brushing a tear away from his eyes.

Meanwhile, your cheeks were stained with the bitter droplets. And the only thought your mind could make was by staring at the empty road ahead and asking to yourself…

… what on Earth had you done?

You drove for a while longer, trying to find your way back to your home. You had turned off the radio, unable to handle listening to the rest of the interview.

You didn't know what it was, if it was because you had seen Harry again, or because of the interview, or because of both, but you suddenly needed to listen to it.

You rushed inside your home, tripping over as you took off your shoes in a hurry, and aimed for the closet where you had hidden Harry's gift.

You knew, somehow, that it was his album. It wasn't that hard to guess, considering the shape of the wrapped object.

You reached for your gift and sat down on the ground in front of your player. You noticed then that Gareth was in the bathroom, the vague noise of the shower barely reaching you. You didn't pay any more attention to it though. Gareth was the last thing in your mind now.

You tore the paper apart, making a mess in your haste, and stared at the album for a moment. Your fingers traced the shape of him on the front picture, before you placed the vinyl on the player to start listening to his songs, and turned the album around to check what you would be listening to.

You found attached at the back a little note scrabbled over a torn out piece of paper. Your heart stopped beating altogether when you read it, your eyes travelling across the letters over and over and over again in what seemed to be a desperate attempt to grasp the real meaning behind his words. But the meaning was plain and simple, and you were stunned more than anything else as the words sank in.

Golden was starting to play, and you tried to focus on the song, although you were still in shock, your body and thoughts numbed by what you just read.

All my love songs are about you

You started to cry when the lyrics Don't wanna let you know / I don't wanna be alone rang through the room. It didn't stop until the end of the album.

With each song, now that you knew that they were about you, you found lines that hurt you too much, that made you clench your hand against your heart. Words that sometimes echoed conversations you had with Harry, and you recognized them, you recognized all of them…

No matter if the words just resonated so intensely with your situation.

You don't have to say you love me

You don't have to say nothing

You don't have to say you're mine

And there's no one to blame but the drink and my wandering hands

Forget what I said

It's not what I meant

And I don't wanna make you feel bad

But I've been trying hard not to talk to you

It's hard for me to go home

Be so lonely

Your flowers just died

Plant new seeds in the melody

Let me inside, I wanna get to know you

I don't wanna make you feel bad

But I've been trying hard not to act a fool

Or if they were just too raw, that if they were really meant for you, you reckoned that you didn't know what to do with that kind of love aimed for you.

Loving you's the antidote

Just let me adore you

Like it's the only thing I'll ever do

What if I'm someone you don't want around?

And I get the feelin' that you'll never need me again

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I just hope you see me

In a little better light

I'll be gone too long from you

I'm going, oh, I'm going home

We'll be a fine line

We'll be alright

Or if they were words that one of you had spoken once, and you recognized all of them.

Just let me adore you

And I'm well aware I write too many songs about you

You've got my devotion

But man, I can hate you sometimes

Spreading you open

Is the only way of knowing you

And through the lyrics you travelled back in time to moments the two of you had shared, no matter if it were the two of you singing madly in your kitchen while baking, or shopping together, or going on adventures in the wild for the weekend…

There's a piece of you in how dress

I couldn't want you any more

Kiss in the kitchen like it's a dance floor

Sunflower

My eyes

Want you more than a melody

You gotta see it to believe it

Sky never looked so blue

So hard to leave it

That's what I always do

So I keep thinking back to

A time under the canyon moon

She plays songs I've never heard

An old lover's hippie music

Pretends not to know the words

Yes, you reckoned, he wasn't lying, they really were all about you.

For how long had he loved you like this?

When Gareth finally joined you in the living room, you were still crying, sitting on the floor, the record still playing although there was no music left to listen to.

You were clutching a note in your hand, and he wondered what it said, but a part of him didn't want to know, he seemed aware that he wouldn't like whatever was written on the piece of paper.

He sat down next to you.

"Hey, stop crying. Why are you doing this to yourself, anyway? You shouldn't have listened to his album. Come on, it'll be fine."

He hugged you, holding you in his arms and patting your back to calm you down.

And you could smell his cologne, and the familiar weight of his body against you, and the size of his hands that you recognized easily, and the feeling of being held by him.

And you cried even harder because you didn't want any of it.

It wasn't his cologne that you wanted impregnated into your lungs, it wasn't his body you wanted to feel leaning against you, it wasn't his hands you wanted to touch you and wasn't in his arms that you wanted to hide now.

It was Harry's.

You wanted Harry. Right then, as you were at your lowest, and everything hurt, you couldn't fight against the thought that had been messing with your mind and heart for such a long time.

It was Harry. It had always been Harry. Even when he was with someone else, it was already him. And even when you were with Gareth, it was still Harry.

You had pushed him away thinking it wasn't fair to spend time with him while you were with Gareth, but the truth was, this was the part that was unfair. It was unfair to everyone, and you had been such a fool. Claiming a higher moral ground because you remained true to your boyfriend, when in reality, you didn't want to cheat on him, you wanted to be with someone else. It wasn't being loyal, it was being absolutely stupid.

Because by trying to not hurt Gareth, you were hurting all three of you. No one was happy in the end. Maybe Gareth was, a little bit, for now.

But what about Harry? And what about you?

You shook your head. You couldn't go on like this… it was all so wrong. You had been denying the truth for too long, and now, it was time to make things right.

And the first step was to be taken now.

"I can't be with you."

Your voice was a mere whisper and Gareth thought he hadn't heard you right.

"What?"

You cleared your throat, shaking your head.

"I can't be with you, Gareth. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but this… this isn't right."

"What are you talking about? Are you… are you breaking up with me?"

"It's… it's for the best. I'm sorry it took me so long… to get it right."

You pulled away, drying your cheeks.

"Are you going to tell me that you want to leave me just because you listened to his album?"

"No… no, it's just… I think it made me realize that he really meant it."

"That he meant what?"

"That he loves me. Or used to love me, at least."

"Is that why you don't talk to each other anymore? Because he tried to make you choose him?"

"No… not at all. I mean… He didn't try to make me choose him. He… he never told me anything about how he felt. But then, the night of the opening, we were on the beach and… we kissed."

You could see the pain crossing Gareth's features, and wanted nothing but to brush it away. But it needed to be done. Because you couldn't be with the wrong person for any longer. Not when you were so absolutely certain that the right person for you thought that you were the right person for them as well.

"Nothing else happened. I promise you, nothing else happened. And then… I felt so bad, and… it was so unfair to you, and I cared… I really do care about you, and I love you but… I felt so bad, so I told Harry that we couldn't be friends anymore, because of that kiss, and because it couldn't happen again. And he told me he loved me, but I think I didn't… I don't… it… I knew he did love me, but I don't think that I knew how to handle that. And you were innocent in all that, and I didn't want you to be hurt, so I… I pushed him away. And nothing happened. But I… I'm not happy like this, Gareth."

You shook your head, taking a few seconds to gather your strengths and go on. Meanwhile, your boyfriend was stubbornly quiet.

"I'm not happy. When Harry came to the shop, he asked me if I was happy, and I couldn't lie to myself anymore because… the answer is no. I'm not happy. I haven't been happy since I pushed Harry out of my life. And I'm so sorry, because I know you're earnest, and I know you love me, but I can't… I can't love you the way you love me. And I can't be happy with you, not at my happiest, at least. And I want to be. And you deserve to be with someone who will be at their happiest because of you, then, they can make you be at your happiest too."

He remained quiet for a little longer, taking it all in. He was crying.

"I want to know something though…" he finally asked, his voice low and deep, but clear anyway and a little cold, like he wasn't about to fight for you. Something inside of him told him not to, told him that he didn't stand a chance anyway. "Why him? Why do you choose him instead of me? Why is he better than me?"

You shook your head, searching for the right words. But you reckoned that there wasn't any logical explanation to give, only the blunt truth.

"I don't know if he's better than you. I don't know. But I have to choose him because… because I love him."

**************************************************************************

Taglist : @ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet@notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky@snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity@i-padfootblack-things @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi@jigsawlover10 @emyyjemyy @addictedtofictionalcharacters @staringmoony@madamrogers @cronias13 @stylesfics-xx @mellamolayla @mariaenchanted

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles series #series #fanfiction #fanfic #imagine #writing

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lovecolibri · 3 years

Note

SaL anon here with this week's Malex song, namely Sight. For myself, I usually take God to mean beauty or goodness, and I think in that sense the lyrics are a good match for Michael's change of mind from 3x03 to 3x04. Michael views the good of his actions in terms of their outcomes, like giving up college was good because he kept Isobel safe, but Alex views the good of his actions in terms of what they say about Michael. After the Malex scene I think Michael is starting to see that "reflection".

Hello my friend! I know I say this like, every time, but I LOVE this song and I think it’s my favorite of the songs on the Senses EP, though Touch is a very close second. This one gives me chills and makes me a little misty-eyed every time I listen to it! We know Ryan is religious, as am I, which is part of why this song means a lot to me, but I love that it’s about seeing the beauty and goodness and “things are bigger than just me and my struggles”, in the simple things.

I debated how I wanted to do this because this is another song that doesn’t really work with a full breakdown, but there are some specific bits I wanted to point out. So I think for this song, I’m going to do what I kinda did when we first started this, which is pull a few lyrics to talk about but I will have the full lyrics and the video posted below. This song is done for choir rather than instruments (though there is some pipe organ that is just *chef’s kiss*) and as someone who was in choir most of high school and all of college, this song is just simple but stunning to listen to. Just so, so beautiful. I’m also going to include a snippet from Ryan’s blog post about this song because I think it’s an interesting look at how the song was constructed and it talks about longing, and puzzle pieces which just make my Malex brain go brrrrrr.

I loved the idea of a song for the sense of sight being about blind faith, about perception. So in each of the verses, I began to write small portraits of ways in which I believe I see God in this world...As I wrote each of those "I see God" verses, I realized there was a sense of longing in each line.. almost like I was telling someone that even though I see pieces of God in everything, maybe even patting myself on the back for the progressive ways in which I think I see God, and admitting that it all still feels like such an inadequate picture. Venting, almost. Like putting a jigsaw puzzle together, and realizing you're short most of the pieces. So that line above made me realize that, though this song is very much about my personal faith (all its missing and fitting pieces alike), it's actually a letter to my daughter, whom I get the sense has a far greater understanding of God than I do. So those countless moments of holding her in one arm, and working out the music of this song in the other, that experience eventually informed the music as well as the lyrics.

Okay, so there are a couple of lines that really stand out to me that I want to talk about.

First, this verse.

i see God in healing bones, in the sanctuary of our homes. i see God in the wilderness, in our magnetism to recklessness.

So I think often about that post regarding a lecture where it was mentioned the first mark of civilization was remains of a person with a broken leg that had healed because it meant other people had to come together to take care of the injured person until they healed. That made me think of Michael and how he wouldn’t have been able to work after what Jesse did to him, and probably would have needed help doing simple things and, if he wasn’t 18 yet, avoiding any awkward questions that would get social services called. We saw him and Alex together but I’m sure Isobel was around (and to some extent Max though we know the incident with Rosa changed things with them) helping provide bandages and stuff too, and maybe using her gift to keep anyone from asking questions. I’m also thinking of the safe space Alex and Michael built together in the back of Michael’s truck, his home at that point, and how they would hide in the desert together. Also having thinky thoughts about “recklessness” and how love can make people do reckless things like possibly exposing their alien secret to save someone they love, or stepping between that person and danger, or removing themselves in order to take the danger with them, and protect the person they left behind.

Now I want to talk about that chorus for Malex as to me it speaks to how they see their love for each other, because that love, that connection they have, is something sacred to them, and right now they both may not believe the other loves them the same way but I feel like that is all going to start to change soon.

i see God in our damaged good, but you see God in ways i wish i could.

This makes me think of that bunker scene and Michael saying he loved Alex for always seeing the good in people, and the scene where Alex says with such conviction “I know you loved me” when his dad tried to sell the lie that Michael’s attention was a manipulation and how they have both had moments of wanting to see things the way the other does.

We get a lot of different words in the two versions of the chorus, “without instruction/obstruction”, and, “without assurance/insurance, you believe” followed by “without container, or dualistic framework”, and “without condition or the promise of heaven” which all just really hits me in the “both Alex and Michael have self-worth issues and don’t believe they deserve love” feels, and how in awe they are over the other person looking past everything and seeing them. And finally ending with “you see the Holy Ghost in broad daylight/and i see the reflection in your eyes.” which to me speaks of this journey we are going to be getting where Michael and Alex start seeing themselves through each other’s eyes and finally recognizing all the love and respect and desire the other has for them, and I am so excited to see that journey taking place (if I say it enough times, will the show give it to me?).

And also a special shoutout to this line because the imagery is beautiful and it’s one of my favorites.

black or white or vivid color, after a while, it all runs together. our stained-glass means nothing without light.

And here are the lyrics in full.

i see God in symmetry. i see God in our make-believe. i see God in our grand attempts to make something beautiful before life ends. i see God in irony, in fragile heirlooms within children’s reach. i see God in our damaged good, but you see God in ways i wish i could. you see God in ways i wish i could without instruction without obstruction, you believe. without container, or dualistic framework, you see the Holy Ghost in broad daylight and i see the reflection in your eyes. i see God in healing bones, in the sanctuary of our homes. i see God in the wilderness, in our magnetism to recklessness. black or white or vivid color, after a while, it all runs together. our stained-glass means nothing without light. i see God in our damaged good, but you see God in ways i wish i could. you see God in ways i wish i could without assurance, without insurance, you believe. without condition or the promise of heaven, you see the Holy Ghost in broad daylight. and i see the reflection in your eyes. i see the reflection in your eyes.

youtube

#my sweet nonnie friends #sleeping at last anon #roswell nm #malex #alex manes #michael guerin #sleeping at last #sight #i had a really hard time with this one today because i cannot brain i have the dumb #but it's one of my faves and so pretty

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spidernerdsblog · 4 years

Text

I forgot that you existed : Chapter one

A/N: okay chapter one is here going a little slow with the storyline wanted to add a little bit of details to the lives of the characters. I can guarantee in next chapter our hero will be in full form and not just in flashbacks. Hope you like it. Feedbacks and suggestions are always welcome.

Pairing : Tom Holland × Singer reader

Summary: It's been more than five years since you and Tom have gone their own ways after a heartbreaking breakup which had left both of you shattered. Both of you thought that you were finally over with each other and were happy in your respective lives until you meet again at a reunion trip planned by your best friend and you realise you are still not done with each other.

Warnings: none, flashbacks.

Mini playlist: love story, ME! By Taylor Swift

We were both young when I first saw you

I close my eyes, and the flashback starts

I'm standing there

On a balcony in summer air

Sounds of giggles and laughter " No! she is my best friend" Harrison exclaimed pulling you by grabbing your left hand towards him "No she is my best friend!" Tom said, pulling your right hand. You couldn't stop giggling as you were stuck between a tug of war between your two best friends who stated that you can only be best friend to any one of them not both. You were only 5 years old then Tom & Harrison both 3 years older than you but you loved hanging out with them.

Your parents shifted from LA to London for their work and coincidentally your house was in the same neighborhood as were of the boys. You all became friends through your mothers when they used to take you to the park when you were toddlers. You were the only girl of the whole boys gang consisting of Tom, Harrison, Harry and Sam and they were very protective about you. You used to boss them around.

As Haz and Tom were quarrelling over whose best friend you were in the backyard of the Holland's house. Tom out of nowhere declared "if it's that so Y/N is my girlfriend" and gave a gentle peck on your lips, you stood there in shock and soon you started blushing as you covered your face with your hands and ran inside to your mother who was chatting with Nikki.

You went up to your mom and asked innocently "Mom, Tom said that I'm his girlfriend and gave me a kissy like you give me every night before bed. Is he no more my best friend ?" Both the mothers started laughing as Nikki spoke “no peanut he will always be your best friend and if you love bugs stay like this forever maybe he can be your husband too."

You scrunched your face and said "eww!! I will not marry him"

“why is that so? " your mother asked laughing

"he always steals my chocolates" you said innocently “no I don't!! Tom said from behind as he entered the house with Haz, “yes you did yesterday only you took it from my bag at school” both of you now started arguing. Nikki and your mom burst into laughter after hearing it. That was the beginning of your love story.

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone

I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run

You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess

It's a love story baby just say "Yes"

.........................................................

You loved to listen to songs as it helps to release your stress and this song of yours was very dear to you as it reminded you of some sweet memories. You were scrolling through the photographs that you had taken back when you were living in London together with the boys as you thought about that whole incident, your actual first kiss, you smiled and shook your head at the realization that you both had disappointed your mothers.

You finally dialled Harrison's number he picked up instantly

"Hey Y/N!"

"Hello.. this is 911 what is your emergency?" You chuckled

"You will never change will ya?"

"That was the plan actually to never change"

"Talking to you after a long time man missed your voice so much"

"Me too Haz.. So how's everything going there?"

"Yeah everything is fine here just wrapped up my new film."

"Great!! How are the boys, Nikki and Dom?"

"They are all fine. Harry is busy with his new film's plot, Sam as usual experimenting with new dishes."

"An.. and how's he?" You hesitatedly asked

"He's good too wrapped up Avengers 5 will be returning home tomorrow.

By the way congratulations for the success of your new album to be honest it's a badass album the lyrics are dope."

You giggled.. "Thanks Haz"

"So now are you free or still have any upcoming projects?"

"I can never be free Haz I m always working, always thinking of lyrics for my next song. Leave all that, what was the emergency that you said to call so urgently?"

"Ummm.. Y/N I want something from you."

"Anything for you Haz"

"You have to promise me first Y/N that whatever I say you have to say yes"

"When have I ever said you no anyways just tell me"

"No! Y/N first promise me"

"Uggh Okay Haz I promise now spit it out. Sometimes you really act childish." you rolled your eyes.

"I want you to come back home I mean back here at London I have planned a 10 days trip to Cornwall at my beach house which we all used to go every summer when we were kids it's a sort of reunion for the whole gang I have invited Z and Jacob too"

"Haz you know I only go on Christmas every year to spend time with you guys because that is when I m free. And I'm pretty busy this month. I have a recording to be done next week for my upcoming single."

"Y/N you promised you will not refuse me. I just want a little time from your busy life.”

"But Haz…"

"And also I'm gonna celebrate my 30th birthday there, your man is getting old love."

"Umm... I don't know what to say Haz I'm confused"

"If you're thinking about him I can assure you there will be no problem besides he is not single anymore so why worry?"

That is the problem Haz you said in your mind.

"Umm okay I'll give it a thought and let you know after confirming the availability of dates." You ended the call and fell back on your bed, your hands and legs spreading across the bed like a starfish. You face palmed and groaned.

You went into a deep thought, your brain still processing the whole conversation you had with Harrison. After a few minutes you heard your phone buzzing and you smiled as you looked to see who was calling. It was Zendaya, face timing you. You had seriously wished to talk to someone right now. You have very few close friends in the industry and Zendaya was one of them. You collaborated with her for your bad blood music video and you guys clicked instantly from that day you became really close. She was your 3am BFF and you both knew each other's darkest secrets. You picked up the call.

"So Haz called you up didn't he?"

"Bingo!! So what are you thinking?" Zendaya laughed

"I don't know Z. I just feel scared. I know I have met him a couple of times during my Christmas visits after everything happened but that was just a one day thing and this whole 10 day trip is freaking me out. I also don't want to disappoint Haz. I missed all of his birthdays for the past few years on purpose just to avoid Tom."

" You are just over thinking babe everything will be fine and I will be there to cheer up your emotional ass. Besides as much as I know Tom is very chilled out he will not bother you."

" I don't think so. He has a very cold attitude towards me even now whenever I go back home. "

After you moved to NY you almost begged your parents to move here and stay with you but they were adamant of staying in London so once in a year you used to visit your family and friends during Christmas. The Christmas Dinner was always hosted by the Holland's after your break up you always panicked to go to their house. The first year when you went. The boys, Nikki, Dom welcomed you as if nothing had happened; they hugged you with joy. But when you went to give Tom a hug he just backed off and out of formality gave you a shoulder hug and you got your hint to stay away. He even brought his new girlfriend for the dinner which you thought he did on purpose to make you jealous or hurt you. And you were actually hurt at the thought that he really moved on so quickly. So you avoided family gatherings to prevent such awkward situations.

"Babe your life doesn’t revolve around Tom he was a part of your life which is over. Start living your life. And we are in our early 30’s and still single don’t wanna die like that do you ??. Even if you want you can have your sweet little revenge by showing off that hot body on the beach and show that asshole what he missed." Z smirked.

You quirked your eyebrows “So you're telling me to be a bitchy ex who doesn’t want to see her ex boyfriend happy”

" Nooo!!! I didn’t mean that just show him how happy you are, that you are one of a kind, he will never find anyone like you in his life. We are gonna have a blast honey and you are coming so start packing."

You had to finally give in with a deep sigh you said .."okay Z I ll go but if I jump off the cliff after all the mental stress I'm going to get in those 10 days you and Haz will be responsible for it." you laughed.

"Oh we won't want that. Besides you have handled more stressful moments than this you will be fine dramaqueen." Zendaya said.

You talked to Alex about the whole trip to sort out the dates. He was a little sceptical at first about the whole reunion with ex trip , but he believed in you and gave you a nod for the trip. You informed the good news to Haz of your approval to the whole trip. Before you could leave for your unplanned vacation you had to finish recording and shooting for your new upcoming single featuring Breidon Urie.

"I promise that you'll never find another like me

I know that I'm a handful, baby, uh

I know I never think before I jump

And you're the kind of guy the ladies want

(And there's a lot of cool chicks out there)

I know that I went psycho on the phone

I never leave well enough alone

And trouble's gonna follow where I go

(And there's a lot of cool chicks out there)

But one of these things is not like the others

Like a rainbow with all of the colors

Baby doll, when it comes to a lover

I promise that you'll never find another like

Me-e-e, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

I'm the only one of me

Baby, that's the fun of me

Eeh-eeh-eeh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

You're the only one of you

Baby, that's the fun of you

And I promise that nobody's gonna love you like me-e-e"..............

The song was soon officially released by the music company and the audience loved it and your work was done for the moment and now you could focus on the trip. All of a sudden you were really feeling excited about the whole thing. You and Z were constantly texting each other to plan about the journey.

The day arrived and you met Z at the airport. "So ready for the battle?" she chuckled. You rolled your eyes and laughed "going on a battle would have been much easier compared to this I guess" but in your mind you were confident. Yes you had finally decided that you're ready to face Tom Holland to show him that you have also moved on. And to show him that he'll never find another like you.

The nine hour flight was uneventful as both you and Z slept most of the time which proved that you both were in dire need of a vacation away from your hectic glamorous lives.

It was around 5 ‘o’ clock in the morning in London when your plane landed. Both of you collected your check in luggages. Check out was hassle free as it was early morning with few people around and nobody recognised you as both of you were in your hoodies. As you came out of the exit door you started to look amongst the crowd and finally you saw those familiar icy blue eyes approaching towards you.

“Ah!! Finally the star arrived” Harrison hugged you tight

“And all credit goes to you Z because our star has stopped listening to her best friend may be got someone else to replace me” he hugged zendaya and started laughing

“getting rid of you has been one of the failures of my life" you pouted

"Ouch!" Harrison dramatically placed his hands on his chest as if hurt.

"No one can ever replace you from my life you idiot" you lightly punched his arm.

Harrison chuckled and said with a fake French accent "I m your chauffeur for the day, madame your car awaits at the parking lot."

After you three put all your luggages in the car. Z and you sat at the back seat and Harrison sat on the driver's seat as he started the car. It was an approximate four hour ride to his beach house.

" You know Haz I really missed the summer in London so glad I said yes to your plan."

"The only thing I liked about London when I came for Spiderman:FFH shoot is the Harry Potter museum" Zendaya declared

You noticed Harrison looked a little off today so you asked "you look a little bit stressed out Haz what's the matter bud?"

"How do you read my mind so easily?" Harrison sighed.

"I'm your best friend dumbo now tell me what is the thing that is bothering you so much?" you said with concern in your voice.

"Okay I need to say you something, just don't be mad Tom will be bringing his fiancee too at the beach house. But don't worry everything will be fine I promise."

Your face went expression less as you looked at Harrison then to Zendaya. You were starting to panic from inside. You let out a sigh and rolled your eyes as you leaned on Zendaya's shoulder. She rubbed your shoulder to comfort you as you thought in your mind "what a great start to this cursed trip."

..................................................................................

Taglists:If you want to be added send in an ask i will be happy to add you.

@sophs-library

#tom holland #tom holland series #tom holland × reader #tom holland imagines #haz osterfield #zendaya #taylor swift #tom holland fluff

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wefoundloveunderthelight · 3 years

Photo

Wonderland by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Or on FF

Tagging: @kmomof4 @lfh1226-linda @teamhook @itsfabianadocarmo

Chapter 7: Trust

“How do you think you’re doing so far? A few more days and you will have completed your first two weeks.”

“I guess it’s going well. I’m not really sure how else it could go.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Killian. It’s not easy facing truth’s we aren’t ready to see. And you’ve been handling that well.”

Killian wasn’t sure he agreed with the good Doc. The only thing he had faced was admitting out loud that the accident was his fault. Perhaps he was a bit surprised that he had told Emma. He didn’t expect to do that. Honestly, he had followed the girl out to apologize for being so harsh in group, only to end up telling her about the accident. He didn’t know what it was about Emma, but the woman had him a bit off his game.

“So, today let’s talk about what happened after the accident. More specifically the loss of your hand, how did you handle the news?”

He straightened in his chair, rubbing his palm on his knee. “Like anyone who is just told that their entire life had changed.” He sat back in his seat and shrugged his shoulders. “Really badly.”

“When did you find out?”

“I woke up in the hospital sometime after the accident, my brother Liam was there. I could tell something was wrong. He told me about my hand first. I guess I was in shock. I didn’t react at all honestly. It was like being numb. I don’t have any other way of explaining it. I’m a musician and suddenly that’s all gone.”

“You play guitar?”

“Played. I dunno what I’ll do now. Honestly, I haven’t even thought about it. It seems so trivial considering everything else I lost.”

“I wouldn’t say trivial, Killian. It’s your life. Your livelihood.”

“Rob always tells me I have my good looks and acting to fall back on, but honestly I did all that because I could. Music was my passion; it was something I did because I wanted to.”

“And that is something that the accident took away from you.”

Killian shuddered with guilt to even feel anger about the loss of a career. “None of that mattered after he told me about Milah and the baby.”

“And how did you handle that?”

“I lost my mind. Ripped my IV out, Liam had to bring in security to restrain me. When I finally calmed down, he asked if I had been drinking that night. The look on his face showed so much disappointment. I got angry, kicked him out of my room. Refused to speak to him for days.”

“Why do you think you reacted that way?”

“My whole life I’ve been living in Liam’s shadow. He was always the golden boy. Dad used to tell me that if the Jones brothers were to make anything of their lives, I just needed to watch my brother. He was the best of us.”

“What does Liam do for a living?”

“He’s a hero.”

“In your mind, I’m sure.”

“No like an actual damn hero. While I was making music on a stupid guitar, he was off fighting in a war.”

“Do you feel like your success was not earned because it wasn’t won the same way as Liam’s?”

“It wasn’t honorable like his. I sing stupid lyrics about dumb shit that doesn’t matter to anyone but me.” He stood up and started pacing the back of the room. “The night we got our record deal, his convoy got ambushed. I got the call that night that that his platoon had gone missing, presumed dead or captured. Days went by before we heard anything. A week later he came home a goddamn hero. Walked his whole platoon out of danger, fought off an attack, and won a fucking Gold Star. I got a record contract. A fucking record contract and he saved ten people. There was no living up to that.”

“Your success shouldn’t be compared to your brother’s sacrifices. It is admirable what he did but that doesn’t mean that everything you have earned means anything less.”

He paused, considering his words but knowing that nothing he would ever do could possibly match the honor of his brother.

“Have you thought about inviting him for family day coming up?”

“I’m not certain he would come even if I did.”

Killian continued to pace behind the couch. He spent the rest of his session thinking about his brother and the disappointment he had caused in the past year. The last time he had spoken to him still haunted his dreams.

“Killian you need help.”

“Fuck off, I’m fine.”

“How much coke is up your nose right now?”

“Enough that you are killing my buzz!”

“This isn’t you. The girls, the drugs, I don’t even know you anymore. You and Milah were…”

“Don’t, don’t talk about her. You don’t know anything about her. You don’t get to say her name.”

“Killian.”

“Get out, Liam. I never want to see you again.”

When he emerged from the office, he was surprised to see Ruby waiting around outside the door.

“Hello lass, are you next?”

“No, I just wanted to check on you.”

Killian had been impressed at how nice the girl had been to him since the incident on the beach where he was unable to perform a simple act of intimacy. He smiled at the girl. “No need, love. I’m fine, barely a scratch.” He joked.

He stilled when he saw the blonde he had been avoiding approaching them from the other side of the courtyard.

“Hey.”

“Hey Emma, meeting with Hop?” Ruby asked her roommate.

“Um yeah, guess it’s my turn to get my head shrunk.”

She made eye contact with him and he quickly looked away. He hadn’t spoken to the girl since she banished him from her sight after their last group session. That didn’t mean he hadn’t thought about her since then. He cursed the fact that it had been more than once.

“If you don’t mind Ruby, I am going to take a run.” He excused himself and left the ladies staring as he walked away.

~*~

“You scared him off.” Ruby complained as soon as he ran off.

“What did I do?”

“You’re always so mean to him.”

She rolled her eyes. “Geez Rubes, I get it you’re fucking him but I’m not going to be lectured about being nice to someone that has made my life hell since I got here.”

She flinched and then narrowed her eyes. “You give as good as you get. Hell, I’m surprised the two of you haven’t fucked with the way you go at each other.”

“Not if he was the last man on this island.” She stated louder than she had intended.

“Trying to convince me or yourself?” She pursed her lips and walked away.

“Whatever.” She pushed through the door and into the office.

“Good afternoon, Emma.”

“I guess.” She said sourly.

“So, last group session we spoke a lot about Neal? You’ve implied that your parents liked him.”

“Of course, everyone likes Neal. My parents think he’s the best thing for me.”

“And what do you think?”

“No one cares what I want, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“You’re pregnant?”

“That’s what happens when two lines show up on the fucking test, Neal.”

“How the hell did this happen?”

“It’s called sex, you asshole.”

“And you’re sure it’s mine?”

“What the hell, Neal.”

“Ok, sorry, what are you going to do now?”

“What am I going to do? Like this is all on me?”

“Emma, I’m just saying, we can’t have a damn baby.”

Later that evening as Emma’s legs worked the exercise bike in the lonely gym, she tried not to think about the child she gave away. She had seen his dark head of hair, ten fingers and ten toes, and she knew that if she even held him for ten seconds, she would have never let him go. So instead, she refused to hold him, only telling them his name as they took him from the room.

Henry.

She wondered where he was, what family had accepted him as their own. If he was being loved and taken care of.

She pushed herself faster, sweat pouring off her brow as she cycled harder and faster than she could even maintain. She screamed as loud as she could, pressing her feet against the pedals.

“I think you bested the mechanical beast.”

She jumped at the sound of another voice in the darkened silence of the gym.

“Can you not sneak up on me, for the last time?”

“Sorry, love. It was not my intention to sneak up on anyone. Apparently, you and I had the same idea for blowing off steam tonight. I can leave if you would prefer.”

She blew out a loud puff of air. “No, it’s not my gym, if you want to be here, I’m not going to stop you.”

He climbed onto the bike next to her and she noticed they each seemed to be matching the pace of the other, when she sped up, so did he. It was like a competition that neither would admit to entering.

The sweat was starting to drip down her back, her hair caked to her forehead. She chanced a glance in his direction and saw beads of sweat glistening on his skin. She wished to hell that didn’t make him more attractive than he already was. She silently wondered what it would feel like to run her hands across his wet flesh, immediately squeezing her thighs together as she worked the bike, the heat between her legs intensifying the more she glanced in his direction.

Suddenly his pace slowed beside her, and she breathed a sigh of relief, an unspoken win she would claim.

“You win.” He chuckled, with his hands in the air as he slowed his legs on the bike.

“Wasn’t aware we were in a race.” She tried acting as disinterested as she could.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

She glared in his direction. “Really, what gave you that clue?”

“Are you always this difficult or is it just for my benefit?”

She slowed down her speed and turned to look at him. “What do you want from me? Because I’m just trying to get through this fucking bullshit without losing my mind.”

“May I offer a suggestion?”

“From you?”

“Try something new darling, it’s called trust.”

“I don’t trust anyone but myself.”

“Come with me.” He climbed off his bike and gestured for her to follow him.

“What are you playing at?”

“No games, love.” He stared at her, his blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight coming through the large glass windows.

“Fine.” She groaned and followed him throughout the complex, leaving the lights of the buildings behind as her eyes saw the water come into view.

They walked without speaking for ten minutes, before he stopped and bent down to remove his shoes. “Come on, love, the sand begs to be felt, not trampled on.”

She stood defiantly watching him set his shoes to the side, pulling his socks off and standing before her, barefoot in his sweatpants. She held her breath before bending down and removing her shoes and socks and setting them next to his.

“Now what?” she said dryly.

“Let’s walk.”

She followed him reluctantly, the sand cold and coarse between her toes. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, with each footstep she felt her burden of the last few days become lighter.

“When things get to be too much, I find that the water, she calms me.”

Emma looked over at him, his hair blowing in the breeze, she noticed that his expression was lighter and calmer than she had ever seen him.

“She?”

“Aye, the ocean is my mistress.”

She laughed lightly. “Do you live near the ocean?”

“Aye. Seattle. And you?”

“New York, but I spend more time in the city than I do at the beach.”

“See that wasn’t so hard now was it?” He joked.

“What are you talking about?”

“Getting you to talk is quite the challenge. It’s like you’re afraid. Afraid to talk, to reveal yourself. To trust me.”

“I don’t trust anyone, don’t take it personally.”

“Not even Neal?”

She laughed loudly. “Nice try.”

“Sorry, love. Just trying to figure you out.”

“Why?”

“I like a challenge, I guess. Besides, no one should go through something like this alone.”

She stopped walking. “I am alone. None of us are here for each other. I don’t know you; you don’t know me. I’m not here to make friends.”

He turned to face her. “You’re not alone, Emma.”

Emma groaned. “Oh my God, why do you even care, you hate me anyway.”

“Actually, I quite fancy you from time to time when you’re not yelling at me.”

For a moment she just stared at him, his eyes latched onto hers. And then she started laughing. It began in her stomach and it overwhelmed her until she was practically giddy with choked giggles and tears that formed under her eyelids. She didn’t even know why she was laughing, nothing about what was happening to her was funny, yet here she was, full belly laughs almost taking her off her feet.

When she finally calmed, he was looking at her with a smile across his face. “Wow I haven’t laughed like that in years.” She said softly.

“Long overdue then, I should say.”

He didn’t push for anything else, he simply continued the walk, taking in the views of the ocean until his watch started to beep and they both realized the time.

“Guess we should head back.”

She looked up at him, wondering what else was going on behind those eyes of his. “Um yeah.” They turned back to where they left their shoes. “Thanks.” Her voice was so quiet she wondered if he even heard her. But he simply nodded and bent down to gather his shoes.

She expected him to say something as they went their separate ways to their rooms, but he surprised her with simply a smile and a nod before heading to his room. She didn’t know what to make of Killian Jones. But for a moment they seemed to be at a truce.

“Where have you been?” Ruby was waiting for her in their room, sitting on the edge of her bed.

“Just walking. Therapy was a bit rough today.”

“Oh. Sorry. I’ve had a couple of those days.”

“You didn’t happen to see Killian around tonight, did you?”

“I’m not his keeper.” She said quickly.

“I know, I was just looking for him, couldn’t find him anywhere.”

“Booty call?”

She laughed. “Nah, just worried about him.”

Emma’s brow furrowed. “Oh, why?”

“I don’t know, he doesn’t really talk about himself much, but I could tell that his last few sessions were really getting to him.”

“I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe check the gym next time. I think he goes there once everyone has left.”

“Oh?”

She turned to change her clothes, ignoring the questioning looks from her roommate.

“Get some sleep Rubes.”

Emma pulled the covers under her chin, basking in the darkness of the night. She didn’t know what to think of her evening on the beach. There were times she absolutely hated the man with one hand. Loathed the way he stared at her, knowing he was trying to get under her armor. She didn’t understand Killian Jones. But what gnawed at her even more was the fact that she wanted to understand him.

~*~

Killian fell into bed that evening with thoughts of Emma Swan. It wasn’t until he woke the next morning that he realized he didn’t dream of Milah. There was no nightmare of her in his arms, her life drained from her body. No dream of her hair blowing in the wind on the deck of his ship. A part of him was angry that Emma invaded his thoughts and kept him from seeing Milah’s face in his dreams. The other part was curious to understand what this woman had that was invading so much of his life.

“There you are!” He looked up to see Ruby approaching his table, her tray of food in her hand. “I looked all over for you yesterday.

“Sorry love, I was a bit lost in my head yesterday. Was everything alright?”

“Of course, silly. I just wanted to see you.”

He smiled tentatively at the girl. He liked Ruby. She was very nice to him, had kept their relationship or lack thereof private, and seemed to truly care about his wellbeing.

“Well, here I am. So, tell me, lass. How are you doing?”

She smiled widely. “I’m doing great. Family day is coming, and my Gran is definitely coming.”

“That’s excellent news.”

“What about you? Are you inviting anyone?”

“I don’t have my phone privileges for another day. But I haven’t decided yet if I will be inviting anyone.”

“You really should consider it. It’s another big step in your recovery when you can work through things with those you love.”

“Thanks, I’ll consider it.”

He looked up and caught Emma staring in his direction and he found himself wondering if family day would bring Emma’s boyfriend to the island. He almost wanted to see the man that had destroyed her view of trust and helped push her down the path that led her here.

He already disliked Neal, he’d heard enough in their group session about his part in leading a 14-year-old to drugs and alcohol. What kind of a man could do that to someone they care about?

How could anyone love someone yet assist them in destroying themselves?

“Come on Killian, what’s the big deal. It’s like alcohol but faster.”

“Can’t you get addicted to this stuff?”

“Baby, it’s just for fun. We won’t let it go that far. Do this with me, just this once.”

“Alright love, just this once. Anything for my Milah.”

He pushed the thoughts away, shoving the last of his food into his mouth and excusing himself from the table. He would be forced to face enough truth’s in his sessions with Dr. Hopper, he’d be damned if he were going to drive himself mad at breakfast.

#wonderland fic #wonderland #emma x killian #killian jones #emma swan #emma x hook #captain swan #captain swan au #captain swan fics #captain swan modern au #stacy's fics

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dontasktheradiodemon · 3 years

Text

Sitting Room #1 (12/31/2020)

Click here if you’re like “what the heck is this about?”

Alastor decides that today is a good day to lay on top of a piano and sing. Valera @autokrates decides to accompany by playing the piano. Angel @sluttyspiderpolkacock plummets out of the sky and kills Alastor in one shot.

Alastor

What do we have here!

Alastor's been wandering the estate scouting out sources of entertainment—when he crosses paths with a sitting room stocked with a gorgeous grand piano. Entertainment located.

He trots over, plays a few keys to make sure it's in tune, considers his options, and then hops up to sit on top of the piano. Nice! Sturdy. He lays down on the piano.

What kind of song is appropriate to play while laying on a piano?

He thinks for a moment; then summons up his microphone, kills the lights, sends his shadow to play a dramatic arpeggio, rolls dramatically onto his back, and sings into the mic, "At first I was afraid~ I was petrified~"

Valera

Valera was happily sitting in the gardens, enjoying the ocean breeze of their home planet, the rustling of the leaves and the perfume of the flowers. It was only them and their thoughts out here.

How serene, how calm. You'd never guess their house was full of overpowered sinners hiding from a mass execution. All their fears were assuaged, not a single of the myriad of terrible incidents they'd expected had come to pass...

Wait. Was that... The opening bars for I Will Survive? Was that *Alastor* they saw through the gauzy curtains?

Fuck being alone with their thoughts, they *had* to get in on that good time. Hope Alastor doesn't mind if they hop right through an open window to offer some backing brass for his piano!

Alastor

Alastor sits up when the room is suddenly invaded—oh, how wonderful! There aren’t all that many places where you can start a musical number and fitting musical accompaniment just barges in! He’d thought he’d have to summon up his own private brass band.

Hand on his chest and hamming up as much as he can, he goes on, “Kept thinking *I* could never *live* without you *by my side*~”

Valera

Look at the man go, Gloria Gaynor would be proud. They plop themselves down next to his shadow on the bench, humming along under their breath while they ready themselves for their cue. In fact, while they're here...

A twitch of a fin, and a hazy amber spotlight flickers into existence to shine down on Alastor. There, mood lighting for the star of the show. Nothing but the best for a guest!

Alastor

Oh! Look at that! Proper lighting! They could be in Hell’s finest jazz club. Alastor’s really warming to his new role as a diva. “But then I spent so many nights, thinking how you did me wrong, and I grew strong~ I learned how to get along~”

He winks at Valera—time to really let loose—and belts out, “And now you’re *back*, from *outer space*—!”

Angel

Shielding his face from the glass, Angel continues to fall as he wildly fishes through his fluff for the charm Valera gave him for emergencies. It was so nice ( for his once human aesthetic appreciation ) that he told himself he'd never have to use it.

Then again, putting himself in this predicament wasn't exactly a conscious decision of his either. Making a clean enough break to salvage as he fell to his certain death was an unorthodox placement of priorities, but time was wasting. SOMETHING flashed before his eyes.

_ " ... And now you're **back!** From **outer space - !** " _

_Alastor...? I thought this was gonna be takin' me to Valer -_

And DOWN he sailed like a crimson comet into a cacophonous landing of glass, rattling keys, strings, once immaculately polished wood, and ( 1 ) local Radio Demon. A singular beat of moaning and groaning before he locked eyes with the island's Hostess with the Galactic Mostest and sprung to his feet, hip popped and arms dramatically jazzed.

" CIAO, MI LUCE DEI MIEI OTTO OCCHI ~ !! How's my BABY ~ ? "

Valera

An inhale as Valera prepares to start laying into the trumpet, smiling around the mouthpiece as Alastor belts out the lyrics. An inhale, and-- uh oh.

A tingle runs up their spine, eyes widening as they drop the instrument and jolt to their feet. Too late for any warning, here comes Angel, streaking from the ceiling in a blaze of glory and glass and splinters flying up from the shattered remains of their poor undeserving piano. They'd be more upset if they weren't immediately distracted by Angel Dust's darling voice.

Beaming fin to fin, Valera lunges forward to wrap their arms around their friend, tail all awiggle behind them as they bury their face in tit fluff. "Il mio amore! Mio caro! I'm so glad you could make it! Seapup is doing great, he'll be over the moon to see you here." A happy sigh, and they look up at Angel through his fluff and purr... Wait. Shit. Pull back, they have to peer around him to the wreck of the piano where their diva had once been.

"Alastor, do you need a medic?"

Alastor

Of all the ways to go, Alastor wasn’t expecting a meteor made out of red velvet.

And then the meteor climbs off of him and starts speaking Italian.

Alastor blinks up at the ceiling, half-dazed. “Probably, but that’s never stopped me before.” He sits up gingerly, leveraging himself out of the pile of devastated piano. “You know—I actually came to this universe to *avoid* getting murdered by an angel.”

Angel

It was very possible to not have enough arms with which to hug a dear friend, even when you had six. Angel gave her a big squeeze, tight enough to momentarily lift clawed feet from the floor as he nuzzled his face between her horns.

" GREAT! Place blew like ya wouldn't BELIEVE, Babe. Emergency getaway fa SURE ~ " he sang with a flash of an open palm of charm debris, which would promptly disappear into his fluff before he swept his cloak behind him.

" ALASTOR! THERE ya went! " Angel extended his hands to offer some help. " Ya ok? Sorry about that, uh, sudden change a plans. "

Valera

Oh to be a fish wrapped in the arms of a spider. What warmth, what comfort. A few seconds of bliss leave Valera's hearts feeling ready to melt, what could be better! A mental note to see about getting Angel Dust another charm, and she moves around to look Alastor over from a barely respectful distance. Poor thing got GOT.

Alastor

He sure did get got. He actually takes Angel’s hand to help haul himself up. “It’s not the change of plans I mind so much as your choice of landing pad!” Audience laughter. He cracks his back a few odd angles, then straightens out and starts brushing himself off. “You were at some big overlord shindig, weren’t you? Did the exterminators get in?” Oh, wouldn’t that be a delightful way to ring in the new year, getting rid of that rotten lot. The only overlords he cared about were either not the type to go to such a party or else excluded from the exterminations anyway. “Glad *you* made it out.”

Angel

" Uh... " It was settling in little by little, now. The foreboden consequences of his actions. " Yeah! They did! Uh, I wouldn't check into the place right now! Y'know, signals goin' haywire, S. O. S. 's off the shitshow... Thinkin' of it's givin' ME a headache, so I can't IMAGINE what it'd be doin' t' YOU, Smiles... Lucky ME though, ah? " _He used to be a much better liar._ Angel's ceaselessly sheepish smile left little to be assumed. Knowing this, he whipped back towards Valera, arms wildly animated as ever. " SO! How's e'ryone holdin' up over here? " He started a strut about the room, testing the soreness of his leading leg. " Ya DO have room fa one more in this fancy schmancy pad, yeah? "

Valera

She steps back, satisfied that Alastor wasn't about to keel over dead, and reaches out to take two of Angel's hands in hers to squeeze. Friend is here, nothing else matters yet! Even if the way he's acting is super sus, he's probably in shock from his DYNAMIC ENTRY to an ALIEN PLANET. That's the story she's sticking with until proven otherwise. Nobody needs that stress.

"Everyone's doing great, Angel! We've got four different Alastors, two Pentiouses, and we haven't even had any..." A glance towards her ex-piano. Another glance towards the radio demon brushing himself off. "... *Major* damage! I'll show you your room, if you want!"

Alastor

“No major damage *yet,* anyway! There’s still time to knock down a lighthouse or two!” He sounds absolutely gleeful.

At the moment, he doesn’t trust Angel at all. The dramatic entrance is perfectly fine, of course—he’d do no less himself—it’s this *insistence* that Alastor not check in on their universe. He absolutely needs to check in on it, as soon as possible.

But he’d rather hear about it from Angel first.

Not in front of their host, though. For the moment, he continues quietly straightening out his clothes and bones.

Angel

" PROPERTY DAMAGE ~ " he sang with a playful swing of their clasped hands, " Ain't a party wit'out a HEFFER of a BILL... " Angel then shadowed Valera's glances. Might be true of _some_ places, but certainly not HERE, his best friend's grand estate they've opened to such a handful of sinners out of the goodness of their heart.

" Sorry... about ya piano, though. I'll get ya a new one! " _No, you won't._ " I've got connections! " _Not anymore._ " Might not 'ave any special Veci designin' on it, but I'll do ya good! " _You just made THE worst mistake of your life. You're fresh OUT of GOOD._

**_YOU'RE never gonna know peace AGAIN._**

" I'm ON YA TAIL. Lead the way ~ " Angel belted playfully with a brush of those flickering fins and a glance back at Alastor. " Ya all good, there? If y'all wanna finish ya song later, I've got m'strings on me ~ "

Valera

"What, you want to replace my piano?" She scoffs, arms reaching up to give Angel's shoulders a gentle squeeze before dropping down to twine a hand with his. "Darling. Mio caro, I don't care about that old thing. You're alive! You made it here! You're in one piece! That's all that matters to me."

Trilling cheerfully, she rocks in place. Hand in hand with her best friend, safe in her home, decidedly not murdered by Heaven's dogs. The ominous stress could come later, for now she had to be a host. "We'll get you set up with a room, get you a warm meal, and then we can all play some music together, since you've so *generously* offered. Sound good to you two?"

Alastor

"Considering what happened the last time I tried to sing it, I think continuing 'I Will Survive' would be tempting fate." He plays the whistling sound of a falling missile and a distant explosion. "You don't both need me there to assign a room, do you? Perhaps I should head down to the kitchen and get that warm meal going!" Angel certainly hadn't gotten anything to eat at that big overlord function, Alastor would bet anything on that.

Angel

Angel clung to Valera's words and the way she fussed over him with such tender loving care like a lifeline. _This_ was what he deserved, ( wasn't it? ) He planted a kiss off her temple and smiled meekly. " Sounds good t' me! But uh, " he started with a sweep of a free arm in Alastor's direction, " Ya just gonna up an' be a host e'rywhere ya go? Valera ain't got this place staffed better than ours so you can chill? I'm already here, an' no one CRASHES as hard as ME ~ "

Valera

"Oh, I don't know, Alastor. Maybe tempting fate is where the REAL entertainment is."

Valera snorts, idly plucking a few stray splinters off of Angel's fluff. "I'm pretty sure I'd have to hold him at gunpoint to keep Alastor out of the kitchen. And unlike you, I simply don't have enough arms to keep all four in check. You might as well accept your fate of trying alien cuisine prepared by the radio host himself."

Alastor

“TEMPTING fate, sure! But it loses some of its charm when fate succumbs to temptation and pile drives me!” He pauses thoughtfully. “Although ‘falling man lands on innocent grand piano’ is a delightfully ironic twist, isn’t it?”

He flings an arm around Angel’s shoulders. “You’d rather have me cooking, anyway! Valera’s helpfully provided a list of Veci recipes that are *edible* to humans—but I’ve been tweaking them to make them *palatable* to humans.” Palatable by Alastor’s standards, anyway, which are either “freakishly high” or “raw bloody meat” with basically nothing in between.

Angel

Angel combed some more splinters from his chest with his hand before abruptly bending his knees to level with Alastor's pull. " Guinea piggin' it is, then! I don't think ya ever made anythin' I passed on. " Raw bloody meat included. _Everything_ was appetizing after a hard day's work. " DO ya worst ~ " With a pat of his back, he again took Valera's hand. " I'll sample the edible stuff anyways, t' compare an' not let all ya hard work go wastin' ~ "

Valera

Gods, Angel was comically tall compared to the other two, it was easy to forget that the spindly spider was slouching all the time. She purrs and gives Angel's hand a squeeze, bumping her nose to his cheek in the approximation of a kiss. "You're a peach."

A moment, and she turns to lead Angel away. So much to do! Did she have brushes..? Yes, she could brush him off, make sure he was splinter free without needing a whole shower... Don't mind her, she's already ten steps ahead trying to figure out how many extra pillows she should put on his bed.

Alastor

“Sample shmample! You’re getting a full plate. I’ll bet the closest thing you got to a proper meal at that party of yours was an olive in your martini.” He half-bows in farewell, and leaves them to head for the kitchen.

Angel

_Well he wasn't WRONG._ If memory served him, that last shot wasn't meant for his taking, either. Lightly chewing the inside of his cheek, he gave Alastor a shallow curtsy and fell into Valera's stride.

" So ~ ! " Angel whistled as he panned his sights over the architecture and decor of the hallway, affectionately hooking his arms about Valera's elbow and shoulders. " How big IS this place? I been t' Hell's palace fa a job before, but if I learned ANYTHIN' about VECI... " He snorted to himself before he could even finish his joke. " Y'all's style is... _outta this world ~_ "

Valera

Valera saunters along, an arm looping around Angel in return to give him the gentlest squeeze. "That joke was *terrible*, darling. As far as the estate goes? Fifty bedrooms, twenty of which are meant for guests, twenty nine for staff, and then the master bedroom. Though I'd call it more of a master apartment, the previous owner sure liked having plenty of space to themselves."

The size of the place was really one of the reasons Val barely ever visited this place, too much room. But that made it perfect for this visit. Space, isolation, plenty of areas for sinners to hide away if they needed privacy... And bedrooms big enough for the stupidly tall sinners to feel comfortable in. Here's Angel's! A twelve by ten four poster bed, white marble and gold from floor to ceiling, a balcony suitable for any necessary brooding or swooning over a sea view... Just what a spider needed. Plus a tiny orange ball comfortably sleeping in the middle of that luxurious bed, but don't mind him.

#extermination party palace #autokrates #sluttyspiderpolkacock #chat log

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upthenorthmountain · 4 years

Text

Heartwood - Chapter Nine

Previous Chapters

The final chapter! Enjoy!

And a special thank you for the very special @karis-the-fangirl, for all her help now and always x

Chapter 9

“...Anna?”

Anna woke. She didn’t remember falling asleep, but now it was clearly morning. Kristoff was sitting on the side of the bed, fully dressed.

“Mmm?”

“I’m sorry, this is such a pain, I forgot I have to go into Town today - I have to go or I’ll miss my train. Will you be okay?”

“Mm. Yes. I’m fine.” He had said something about going to London the day after her birthday, and she’d forgotten too.

“I’m so sorry, I meant to…” he looked at his watch. “I’ll come home as soon as I can, okay? And we’ll - talk. And there’s something else I wanted to do yesterday but - anyway. Later, okay?”

To her surprise, he leant forward and kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll see you later. Go back to sleep.”

“See you later,” Anna said, and watched him go.

-----

It was almost eight, not so very early. Anna wasn’t sleepy any more so she got up and dressed. Yesterday’s events seemed distant already, almost dream-like - but they’d happened, and she could barely sit still, she was so caught up in wondering - had the doctor made a mistake? She couldn’t think of another reason why she was still here, breathing, heart beating as normal, as she paced the length of the garden and back.

At nine she rang the doctor’s surgery and made an appointment for later that morning. Kristoff would have taken the campervan to the station but she could call a mini-cab, or perhaps ask Lillian for a lift - no, she knew if she did that, she’d end up telling her everything. She had almost told Lillian, so many times, but she hadn’t wanted to make her sad; hadn’t wanted the time they had to be coloured by it. Kristoff had been good as his word, and never referred to Anna’s health, never treated her as if her strength was any less than his, and she was unbelievably grateful for it.

He’d said they needed to talk. Was he drawing the same conclusion she was? Or was he thinking that she had lied all along?

-----

“I see here,” the doctor said, reading her computer screen, “That you were scheduled for a follow-up from your last appointment but you cancelled it, any particular reason?”

“I - there didn’t seem much point.” Anna cringed a little, expecting to be told off.

The doctor frowned at her computer screen and clicked through a couple of tabs. “Yes, you’re probably right,” she said. “Looking at your results - not much point.”

Well, that was a little horrifying, coming from her doctor. Anna winced.

“Yes, a lot of people have these little blips,” the doctor was saying. “It’s good to have it in your records in case it gets worse but for now, no need to do anything. Have you had any further symptoms?”

“No,” Anna said. “Nothing.”

“Then I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“I shouldn’t worry about…” Anna paused. “I’m sorry, I’m confused. When I saw you, last year, you said...you gave me this.” Anna rummaged in her handbag and produced the letter, now looking a bit bedraggled. The doctor took it and glanced at it; then frowned and read it more carefully; then turned to her computer again and started clicking through various screens. “Odd,” she said. “I don’t see why - ha. Yes, we did have trouble with that one…”

“With what?”

“Oh, the machine - it wasn’t calibrated correctly - but we called everyone back in,” the doctor said. “Didn’t you get a letter?”

“I - moved,” Anna said. Well, that was true. She wasn’t going to sit here and say that she’d had a letter - possibly, actually, more than one - and ignored it.

“Oh, goodness, I am sorry. Yes, I can see your results here but it’s definitely wrong, we’ve estimated what it should have been although of course we can redo it if you like.”

“I’m not dying?”

“No, no. A mild murmur. Won’t cause you any trouble.” The doctor was watching her face carefully. Probably wondering why I look so horrified, Anna thought dully.

“I’m so sorry,” the doctor said. “I will of course follow up with the admin staff and find out why they didn’t contact you again.”

“Of course.”

The doctor cleared her throat, then reached across her desk and picked up a card. “And if you wish to contact our official complaints service, then I’m sure…”

Anna shook her head. “It’s fine. It’s....I’m sorry, I have to go.” She grabbed her bag and stood up.

“Miss Rendell -”

“Mrs,” Anna said, and fled.

-----

And suddenly, all the happiness of that past year was gone. All of it had been built on a lie, a lie that had ended up being at someone else’s expense. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Didn’t even get a second opinion. Anna almost ran out of the surgery and along the road to the taxi rank by the station. She saw Kristoff’s camper in the station car park and flinched away from it, even though he was miles away.

No wonder Kristoff hadn’t wanted to talk to her last night, had hidden away to avoid her. He’d realised what it meant, when the incident at the train track didn’t hurt her; he’d realised Anna was perfectly healthy, and that meant he was stuck with her forever. Or at least for another two years, wasn’t that how long it took to get a divorce? Or was it five? Either way. Oh, what if he’d thought she was lying all along; he must have been so angry. He probably wanted to talk to her later just to throw her out.

It was cowardly, to leave while he was at work, but she knew she needed to do it. She didn’t want to put him in the position of having to pretend he wanted her to stay, to say he didn’t mind. She had made him marry her under false pretences and she didn’t deserve his understanding. She didn’t deserve anything.

“Could you come back in an hour and pick me up again?” she asked the taxi driver when they pulled up at the end of the lane.

“It’s a bit of a drive out -”

“I just need to get my things together, I need to leave before he gets home,” Anna said. It wasn’t until the driver’s expression changed that she realised what she’d said.

“Of course, love,” he said. “I’ll be here. Do you want me to wait here while you get sorted? It’s no trouble.”

“Oh, no, it’s nothing like that -” But it would take too long to explain. “He’s at work until late. I’ll be fine, thank you.” The driver nodded but she noticed he didn’t pull away until after she’d reached the house.

-----

It took only half the time for Anna to pack her suitcase. Banjo rubbed up against her legs as she squeezed her clothes into the case and she bent down to scratch him under the chin. “I’m sorry, puss,” she said. “I’ll miss you.”

There were a few other things scattered around the house, and as she was gathering them in a carrier bag Anna realised that she did need to tell him why she had left. She should leave a note. But the only paper she could find was the shopping list pad, which had a design of cheerful vegetables - that didn’t seem very appropriate. Or the back of an envelope. Oh, dear.

Without thinking, she ran down the path to the office. It was locked, of course, but the key was under a flowerpot - she’d seen him take it out a hundred times. She didn’t think at all about what she was doing - she was just focussed on needing a piece of paper, and this seemed the most likely place to find one.

She’d expected a desk, maybe shelves or filing cabinets. There was a small table with a laptop, but it was connected to some other electronics she didn’t recognise. That was definitely a microphone, and speakers. His guitar was on a stand in the corner. But they weren’t paper, so she didn’t pay much attention to them. Instead she spotted an inkjet printer in the corner and took a piece of paper out of the tray, then went back to the house, locking up behind her.

Anna put her case and the bags outside the front door, then she sat down at the dining table with the paper and a biro from the kitchen drawer. Her mind was racing. What could be enough? Nothing. But she had to write something.

Kristoff,

I’ve gone home. I went to see my doctor this morning. She told me that there was a problem with the machine they used to diagnose me last year. There was never anything wrong with my heart and I am perfectly healthy and should live for decades.

I’m so sorry. I never meant to deceive you (she had to stop here for a moment to rub her sleeve across her eyes) and I hope you can forgive me. I will contact a lawyer and hopefully we can be divorced soon. I will of course pay all the costs.

Thank you for the happiest year of my life.

Anna

She took the ring off her finger and left it on top of the letter.

-----

The taxi was waiting for her at the end of the lane. It had taken Anna a couple of trips to get all her belongings there, and the driver helped her fit everything into the boot.

She wasn’t going to cry. And she wasn’t going to look back at the house or the lane as they drove away.

The radio was on, and she asked the driver if he would turn it up, which he did quite happily.

‘....and now we have an exclusive - the new John Foster track, which I know you’ve all been waiting for -”

Oh, she’d forgotten about that. She’d seen about his new album online a few days ago, but with everything, she’d forgotten.

“- and you won’t have heard this anywhere else. I’ve heard it, and it’s a cracker, so settle down and enjoy. This is John Foster, his new single, Heartwood.’

The song began, and Anna’s brow wrinkled. This song wasn’t new - why, hadn’t she heard Kristoff play that intro a dozen times. He was always sitting around holding his guitar and playing little bits of tunes, and she’d liked that one. John Foster, you’re a plagiarist, she thought.

The lyrics began. Unusually for Mr Foster, it seemed to be a love song. There was a girl, and he loved her. He loved her, but they only had a year. For everything there is a season. That was what Kristoff always said. Well, she supposed it was no wonder she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

[They say

For everything there is a season

However many or how few

But if we only have a season

At least I spent this one with you]

She was going to cry. She concentrated on the words to try and avoid it.

[Your hair is honey in the sunlight

Your kisses honey on my lips]

Kristoff had said that. Something like that. Hadn’t he?

[When I come home and you’re not waiting for me

Your sweet smile is what I’ll miss]

[They say

For everything there is a season

However many or how few

But if we only have a season, Anna

At least I spent this one with you]

Anna sat bolt upright in her seat. Did he say her name? She was imagining it. She…

...she knew Kristoff wasn’t John Foster; she’d seen John Foster perform. But she also knew that he didn’t write his own songs, there had been a heated discussion about that online that she’d avoided, because what did it matter? The songs themselves mattered. She hadn’t given much thought to who the songwriter actually was.

Except that she was married to him. That’s how he’d got the tickets to the concert, why he already knew the tune, how he made his money. And he’d written her a love song. His first love song.

No. She’d lied to him - however unintentionally - and it was a good idea for a song. It was a nice song; he was a talented man. She hoped the people of the world loved it and he made a heap of money, which he deserved, for putting up with her all this time.

But. He’d written her a love song.

She hadn’t let herself think about her feelings for Kristoff. Because she knew what they were. She’d known for a long time. If things had been different, if she’d met him otherwise - well, who knew how that might have gone. Maybe he’d have tired of her, anyway. Maybe she’d still have ended up alone, no matter how much she loved him.

Anna swallowed hard, and stared out of the window, watching the trees give way to houses, until they pulled up outside Elsa’s door. Anna’s door.

The taxi driver helped her get everything out of the boot and carry it up to the door. Anna tipped him well, found her old door key in the bottom of her handbag and let herself in.

No one noticed her, for a little while. She brought everything inside and started to carry it up to her bedroom, which was exactly as she’d left it. Anna wondered if it had been left for her deliberately, if Elsa had thought she might come back; or if no one had thought about it at all.

She was putting away some of her clothes when Elsa appeared in the doorway. “Anna?” she said. “Why are you here?”

“Because I’m not going to die,” Anna said, sat down on her bed, and burst into tears.

-----

Elsa clearly didn’t know what to do, but she sat down next to Anna and patted her on the shoulder, which is more than Anna would have expected. She listened while Anna told her the full story - or most of it - and she only said ‘Why didn’t you get a second opinion?’ once and ‘I wish you’d told me’ twice, which to Anna was acceptable.

“I’d actually been meaning to come and see you,” Elsa said, after they’d sat in silence together for a long moment. “I wanted to tell you something.”

“Tell me what?” said Anna, taking a whole handful of tissues and blowing her nose.

“I bought Bennett’s Field.”

“What? For what?”

Elsa hesitated, and looked at her hands. “The council has been looking for sites for a new country park. I bought the land to donate it. I thought - if you agree - we could combine it with the land we already own.”

Anna stared at her, mouth open. Then she said “That sounds wonderful.”

“I know that - you and I haven’t always seen eye to eye. I didn’t know how to be your guardian. I knew I wasn’t doing a good job, but I had no idea how to fix it.”

“It’s okay,” Anna said, automatically.

“No it isn’t.”

“We can start again. From now. As adults.”

“I’d like that.” They sat side by side for a while. “I haven’t even met your husband,” Elsa said.

Anna sniffed. “He won’t be my husband much longer.”

Elsa squeezed her hand. “You never know.”

-----

The doorbell rang at almost eleven that night, as Anna was contemplating going to bed. She didn’t want to climb into those white sheets, alone, but it had to be done; she’d put everything away, tidied it all neatly, had a long hot shower, and now going to bed was the only thing remaining. Until the doorbell rang. Elsa answered it.

“May I speak to my wife, please?”

Anna stopped at the sound of his voice, and listened, but Elsa’s reply was inaudible. Anna leant on the wall and peered round to try and see down the stairs.

“I just need to talk to her. I think - there’s been a misunderstanding. My fault. Is she here? Please?”

Anna walked out of the hallway and onto the top stair. Kristoff was standing just outside the front door, and when he saw her he stepped forward; Elsa moved backward to let him into the house. She glanced at them both, then shut the front door behind him and disappeared into the living room. Anna barely noticed her leave. Kristoff was standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking at her with an expression on his face that she couldn’t place.

“You can come up,” she said, for want of anything else to say. “Um. If you like.” She didn’t wait for him to reach her, but walked slowly into her bedroom.

“This is your room?” was what he said when he joined her.

“Yes.”

He nodded, slowly. Now that he was here he seemed to not be able to think what to say.

“Kristoff,” Anna said, “Are you a musician? A songwriter?”

He smiled, lopsided. “Yes.”

“I heard your song. On the radio.”

He nodded. “I knew it was being released today. I was going to play it for you yesterday, on your birthday. And tell you everything. Then I was going to do it today, but I got home and you weren’t there.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“About the songwriting?” He shrugged. “At first just because I knew you’d want to meet John and he and I don’t really get on. He’s a bit of a dick, to be honest. The record company matched us up, we aren’t friends.”

“But you don’t mind him recording your songs?”

Kristoff shrugged again. “They’re all just nonsense.”

“No, they aren’t. Kristoff, you don’t know what they meant to me, those songs, when I was alone and miserable. They’re wonderful.”

“The only one I care about is the one I wrote for you.”

He took both her hands in his. “I read your letter. You’re not going to die?”

“No. No more than anyone else, anyway.”

He squeezed her hands and she looked up to see him beaming at her. “Come home,” he said.

“You don’t want me to do that. You don’t have to be polite.”

“I’m not.”

“I can’t come back,” Anna said. “And we have to get a divorce. I’ll do whatever you need me to do. We can be friends. But I know you only married me because you felt sorry for me and wanted to help me out. And I can’t stay married to someone who doesn’t love me, no matter how I might feel about them. It isn’t fair.”

Kristoff nodded and let her hands fall. “That’s my fault,” he said. “That you think that. Alright, yes - I married you because I knew you’d be miserable if you went home, and I thought I could help you. I thought you’d stay until you got your money, then you’d be off, and I was okay with that.”

Anna opened her mouth, but he wasn’t finished. “I didn’t love you then,” he continued. “Though I liked you well enough. And by the end of the summer I realised I was falling for you - but I remembered that you were going to die. And I couldn’t - I tried, I tried to stop myself. I told myself it was nothing. But my god, when I saw that train bearing down on you, I knew that I loved you. You have to believe me.”

He was so very earnest, that was the thing. He had never lied to her; looking into his eyes, she knew he wasn’t lying now.

“I love you,” she said. Kristoff smiled. He put his hand in his jacket pocket, and pulled out the ring Anna had last seen on her letter, on the table. He held it out to her in his open hand.

“Then come home,” he said.

And Anna realised that the only thing stopping her was the little voice in her brain saying that it was too easy. It was too right. How ludicrous, to have something you wanted so much offered to you freely, by someone who desperately wanted you to take it. But how wonderful.

Until her dying day - many, many years in the future - Anna never forgot the expression on Kristoff’s face as she took the ring from his hand and put it on. Never forgot how it felt when he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, knowing that this time, it really was forever.

-----

Anna woke, and it was so comfortable and familiar that it took her a few minutes to remember everything that had happened over the last couple of days. But she was home; this was home. Forever.

Something was unfamiliar, though. She could hear two men, talking. She got up, put on her dressing gown, and opened the bedroom door.

The back door was open, and the conversation was happening just outside it.

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” one man was saying. “Either just put it in the bathroom as it is or knock through here. Or could use that space for a shower. I’ll do you a couple of quotes, if you like.”

“That’d be great, thanks.” That was Kristoff.

“Lovely spot you’ve got here. Can see why you don’t want to move.”

“We’re fond of it.”

“You know,” the other man - a builder? A plumber? - said, “This floorplan, what most people do, is put some stairs in and convert the loft. You can probably get two bedrooms up there, or a nice master suite. Keep one bedroom downstairs if you want. That storage building, it’s brick, right?”

“Breeze block,” Kristoff said.

“So it’s a permanent part of the existing building, right, you could get planning to add that onto the house. Might not even need planning permission. You could get three bedrooms in here, easy, without having to make the actual building any bigger, except maybe some dormers in the roof. Up to you, of course. Depends how much space you think you’re going to need. Just the two of you, is it?”

“At the moment, yes. Though that’s certainly something to think about.”

“I’ll put together a rough estimate on that as well if you like. You don’t want to have to move when you have kids. Lovely spot.”

“That’s very true. Though right now I mainly don’t want to spend another winter listening to my wife complain about how cold the loo seat is.”

Anna laughed, and Kristoff looked over at her and smiled. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Anna said; and it was. The first, best morning of the rest of her life.

#heartwood #kristanna #modern au #fanfic #fanfiction

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mrs-i-have-too-many-biases · 4 years

Text

Bang Chan// Sun and Moon (-light)// Chapter six

Summary: Sun and Moon, different from another, but both unmissable in the world. The sun is warm, it provides daylight. It represents life, strength and growth. The moon, the brightest and largest object in our night sky. It makes the earth more liveable and represents admiration, change, mystery and feelings. The sun is untouchable and unreachable, but what if his ,independent, sun(-shine) becomes his world? Tropes: Enemies to Lovers Season: Spring Pairing: Bang Chan X Reader (ft. Seo Changbin) AU: | Delinquent!Female Reader | Vice President!Bang Chan | School!AU | Non!Idol AU | Genre: Fluff/ heavy Angst Word Count: 7,7K Warnings: Themes of bullying, HEAVY Themes of Abuse, swearing, insults, Anxiety Requested: Yes, (Reference) A/n: For the sake of the fiction, Chan is a twat in the story (his mother is very unpleasant in the story/this chapter), but only for imagines/ fiction purposes only. We all know better than that. I have mentioned his real-life sibling’s names in this chapter/story. Please remember to not harass them.

Y/n had been doing her best to avoid Chan after their incident. Chan felt terrible for his actions, for scaring her and making her cry out loudly. The vision of her broken state was burned into his memory and he couldn’t sleep because of it for days.

He had been trying to reach out to her, trying to call her and drag her out of class eventually so he could talk to her and make up for his mistake. But she didn’t feel like talking. She wasn’t feeling like she needed to be around him anymore than she already was.

Sooyun had taken notice of that and took it into her own matter to cling onto Chan as if her life depended on it. Everywhere Chan went, she went. As if it was their old life again. It saddened Chan, because he didn’t wanted it to be this way. Yet Y/n had probably the same mindset of, reversing back to how it used to be, as she had her ice tinted mask back on. Chan would be confused at her attitude change. He missed the sweet Y/n he had gotten to known and he tried to get her back into his life as he dragged her out of her class once again.

But she would once again walk away from him, making him follow her. “Please I just want to talk.” He muttered loud enough for her to hear. “There is nothing to talk about Chan.” She mumbled back as she kept on walking straight ahead. Chan sighed and reached for her wrist, but she quickened her pace as she shouted that Chan was right here, causing a swarm of girls to surround the boy, leaving him startled and sad.

Chan had tried for days to get her to talk to him. And eventually he would’ve had enough. He knew she would be in the library to study for that one hard history exam that was coming up. Chan has noticed her in the back of the library and trapped her in between the books and his chest. Her eyes widened at his action, feeling surprised to see him, but soon after she seemed unfazed by his manners. “Why won’t you talk to me?” He asks. “I don’t want to talk to you.” “Is this about the other day, please I just want to apologise.” He cried out softly. “There is nothing to apologise for Chan, just forget it.” “Please, Y/n just talk to me. You can trust me. You know that. There is no way I would abuse your trust like that.”

A triggered in Y/n’s mind made her body stiffen. She stared at him in fear as she rewind the words that had left his lips. The colour in her face would drain to a paler shade, Chan saw her frightened state and he could conclude without her confession, the situation she was in. “Y-y/n, are you being-“ “Don’t ever talk to me again. I don’t want to see your face eve again. Just pretend you don’t know me. Delete my number and move on with your life Chan.” She snapped before she swiftly made her way past him and rushed out of the building. ‘

Chan was still in shock, but he knew enough by the fear that he could hear in her trembling voice. He wanted to chase her and try to talk to her again, but when he was outside, she was already out of his sight. He didn’t know what to do with this information. He tried to call her over and over, but she wouldn’t pick up the phone. She was scared that he had found out, she didn’t trust him anymore. She couldn’t trust him anymore.

Chan was left frustrated and confused. The overwhelm was taking over his mind and he felt like he wanted to cry.

Later that night he’d be producing with Changbin. Chan tried to concentrate, but he couldn’t help but think of Y/n. The fear in her eyes broke his heart. He wanted to shake off the thoughts, but being with Changbin made it worse.

‘Did she go to him for her problems? Are they dating or not? Is she actually living with him? Does he know? Does he know about me?’ So many questions yet so few answers.

“Do you perhaps know a Y/n?” Chan subtly tried to ask. He couldn’t resist asking him, the feelings were eating him on the inside. Changbin could be his only chance for answers. His friend froze in his actions and started to mutter to himself under his breath. “Fuck, did I ever mention her name?” He questioned. “No.” “I-I-“ “Is she, you know. ‘That one friend’.” Chan asked carefully. Changbin sighed in defeat and turned to his friend and looked at him seriously.

“Look, I tried to be vague about it, because she doesn’t want anyone, besides me then, to know. How do you even know about this and how much do you know?” “I don’t know. I kind of connected the dots myself. And I know not that much to be honest, but this confirmed a lot though.” Chan admitted truthfully. “Please keep this to yourself, because if there will something happen to her. I will blame you for it Bang. Am I understood?” “Yes.” Chan said as he gulped loudly.

Chan realised that Changbin and Y/n really must be tight together as friends, or maybe as even more. And in the meantime, we have Jisung sitting in the corner feeling bamboozled as he overheard their conversation.

Some time would go by and Changbin’s head would suddenly shot up and look to his left where Chan was sitting, minding his own business again as he tried to come up with new lyrics. “Wait, are you the annoying vice president?” Changbin blurted out. “Excuse me-“ “Nothing!” Changbin would quickly say as he turned around, but Chan’s respond told him enough as well.

As the hours went on, Chan kept wondering what was actually going on in Y/n life. Since they spend so much time together, he felt quite involved int her life, maybe not as much as Changbin was, but still a pretty decent amount.

Since Changbin skipped quite a lot of producing sessions, he wondered how bad her living situations were. He also wondered what Changbin did to help her. Did he comfort her with advice and pep talks, or did he hug her whenever she was sad. A flash back of Y/n and Changbin reuniting, shot in front of Chan’s eyes, which made his chest tighten. The vision still made him envious of their closeness. He could only wish to be that close with Y/n. He was almost there, he felt like, but he had to blew it.

Chan wiggled restlessly in his seat. His eyes kept wandering to the back of his class, wondering where Y/n was. He hadn’t seen her in a week and to say that he was worried is an understatement. He knew that Y/n would skip classes and sometimes a day or two, but never more than a week.

A whole week without her and he felt like he was becoming a mad man. His friends really thought he was going crazy. His hair was a permanent mess, and not a hot one. He always seemed to be lost in his thoughts, his old appetite didn’t seem to make return. As the days went on, he began eating less and less. His eyes seemed gloomy and more exhausted than they ever did before. Even more than that one time where the boys were pulling all-nighters as they were producing songs for a client and he got only thirty minutes of sleep.

Chan felt like she had ran away from him.

Chan’s gloominess didn’t go unnoticed. He also seemed to be annoyed at all times. Someone could be using a word wrongly in his or her sentence and Chan would be ready to snap their necks it seemed. When he couldn’t find his phone one morning, he was ready to just sit in his room and cry. Everything just didn’t go as he wished it would.

He had thrown his friends off a lot lately as well. They were pissed at Chan’s behaviour and wanted him to act normal again. “Chan she was independent before, she probably wanted to be that again. She’s unapproachable, she always has been. Just give it up already.” His friends would say, but they didn’t understand. They thought he had gone mad.

Minho had asked Jisung if he knew what was up with Chan, but Jisung also didn’t know the full story, so he couldn’t really explain it to his friend.

In the meantime, Felix knew more than the others. Surprise, surprise, Changbin was his best friend, besides Chan of course. Chan never knew that Felix and Changbin were close. Truth is, the two got to know each other during their Taekwondo training session. Changbin was there with Y/n, it was a few years ago. Felix had met Changbin briefly. Through the years their friendship evolved and they became best friends as well.

When Changbin was gone to Japan for the wedding-month, he asked Felix to keep an eye on Y/n as he travelled to another country. Felix often had to keep his mouth shut, because Changbin would kick his ass if he ever let something slip out of his mouth if it was about Y/n. Felix had always knew that his friend was very protective of his female best friend, so he gladly took that task.

Felix knew about Y/n’s situation, Changbin also sometimes had to get things off his chest and that’s when Felix would come into the picture.

Right now Felix wasn’t sure if he should be informing Changbin about Chan’s state, of course not knowing where Chan stands in his relationship with Y/n or Changbin. But if he knew it was bad, he of course would.

When Changbin was gone, Felix had told him that Y/n seemed happier. The words would hurt Changbin as he thought that Felix meant that Y/n was happy that he was gone. But Felix would quickly explain that that was not the case obviously. She had met someone who seemed like he could be a possible supporter for her, this gave Changbin a bit of peace as he was abroad for so long.

Felix never bothered to mention Chan’s name, not thinking it would matter. Through the weeks, without anyone knowing, Felix had talked to Y/n every now and then. She was furious at first, because Felix knew about her ongoing situation and because Changbin had told someone, especially when she empathically stated that no one could know. Felix was quick to defend his friend and explained to Y/n that Changbin needed to air his heart every now and then.

“He’s a sensitive person, we both know that.” Felix had added. Y/n would feel a little guilty, knowing that she had probably burdened Changbin with all of her problems. Tears would start to brim in her eyes, which would startle Felix a little and out of reflex he brought her into his arms. She let him hug her as she started to cry. “Really, you shouldn’t feel guilty. He loves taking care of you, I can tell that he does. He talks about you all the time, it sometimes makes me crazy, but it only shows how much he cares about you.” Felix quickly said as he comforted the girl in front of him.

And after that, plus a bunch of pictures from Changbin and Felix as prove, she began to trust him. He apologised beforehand for his childish and dumb behaviour from before he knew anything about her. She would forgive him and stated, as usual, that she was used to it by now that people judged her purely based of her appearance.

“I really am so sorry. I’m sorry for the toxic and dumb things I’ve ever said to you. I regret it, because I was careless and insensitive back then. Can I ever make it up to you and maybe become closer with you? What I’ve heard from Changbin is that you’re pretty cool.” Felix chuckled, making her laugh as well. “Only if Changbin is back, he’s my safe haven and I still have some trust issues. I hope you understand.” “That’s totally fine. I get that. And besides I was about to offer that too, knowing that he really is your best friend.” “And so is he yours.” She had replied with a smile.

“Besides, got to double check the facts by my best friend, got to prove my anxiety wrong.” She had joked before walking along.

For now she kept her mouth, wanting to see if Changbin would admit that he basically had hired a secret detective. “Also Felix!” She called as she stopped walking for a second. “Yes?” He responded. “If someone will find out about this. Do not expect me to not blame you for it and make you pay for it.” “Trust me, I believe you will. I’ll keep my mouth shut.” Felix laughed before they both parted ways.

And so far, he kept his promise.

In the meantime, the boys had already lost track of Chan. They had turned around and in a blink of an eye he had disappeared in thin air. Chan had been asking multiple teachers if they had any information on where Y/n could’ve been. None of them knew, to his frustration he even rushed to the library and asked around if they knew where she could be. He could kiss the librarian in joy when she gave Chan the address to Y/n’s house.

He called in sick by the janitor and rushed out of the building. He didn’t know what he was thinking, but he just felt like he needed to be by her side. As if she needed him right now. He drove like a madman. He hadn’t noticed where he was driving to. He took another glance at the paper that he had stuck on his driver’s desk.

‘Yellow Wooden St.’ He had muttered to himself. ‘Isn’t that that disadvantage neighbourhood?’ He asked himself once again.

The sky seemed to darken when he drove into the neighbourhood. He remembered walking through the streets weeks ago. He stopped in front of a house that looked awfully familiar to him and he winced when he saw the rose-tree. He remembered screaming coming from inside of the house and him rushing away from it.

He stepped out of the car carefully and checked his surroundings. Rain was suddenly pouring down and his clothes were soaked within seconds. A suspicious feeling came to Chan’s chest as he walked closer and closer to the house. He was about to knock on the door, but then noticed that the door was creaked open. Chan took the shirt that he was holding, it was Y/n’s that she had left the other day when she had stayed over at his and wrapped it around his hand.

He didn’t know what was about to come, but when he stepped inside an unexpected smell filled his senses. The alcohol was piercing his nostrils and he had to take a breather before he kept on walking inside. The house was crashed.

Furniture were all in the wrong places and in the wrong angles. He peaked into the living room and saw a man passed out on the floor. Bottles of alcohol, filled and empty surrounding him. He wanted to rush to the man, but then he realised that he just stepped into his place and is a complete stranger to him. Chan accidently stepped on a shard, but then to his shock. He noticed something familiar from the corner of his eye.

He slightly regretted looking to his left, when he saw someone laying passed out in the kitchen. He immediately knew who it was. Y/n was laid on the ground, a small poodle of blood surrounding her. There was glass piercing in her arms and her skin was as pale as it ever could be.

Chan’s heart dropped and ran to her. He fell down on his knees, not caring that he was now bleeding himself. Tears sprung to his eyes, not from the pain coming from his knees, but the fact that the girl he loved so much was in pain, unconscious and unprotected in her own house.

‘Was this what Changbin had been protecting her from? Is that her dad? Is this the way she lived?’ So many questions came to his mind and his heart was stuck in his throat as he tried to wake her up, his voice croaking as he did so.

He remembered Y/n telling him about her father. Did that horrible man do this to her? Chan was trying to focus on her and move the questions to the back of his mind and set his priority on her live for a second. He checked her pulse and her breathing. Her heart was barely beating, her breathing was soft, too soft for his liking. He clumsily and stressed whipped out his phone and called the emergency centre.

After he did that, he tried to keep Y/n close. He looked at her dad, who was still passed out in the living room, a few meters away from them. Chan realised that Y/n never lied. The house was filthy and broken down. The windows were broken and ‘fixed’ with plastic bags taped in front of them. Broken chairs were spread around the place, bottles took over the floor and the alcoholic smell the rest of the house.

Chan jumped in shock and was ready to square up when a random lady entered the house. “Oh my goodness, are you okay?” She asked Chan as she hurried to him. She had a friendly face and Chan didn’t feel threatened anymore after taking another good look at her. “I-I’m fine. M-my friend on the other hand isn’t.” “Did you call an ambulance?” Chan nodded in respond and kept Y/n close to him.

Before he knew it, the ambulance and police had arrived at the scene. Many other neighbours also watched what was going on. “Finally they got that bastard, after all these years. That poor girl turned him in so many times, but when it is fatal for her, they belief her.” The same woman mutters, which Chan overheard. “What do you mean ma’am?” He asked politely. “Y/n, your friend, she’s a lovely, sweet girl. She has been abused for so long, but the police needed to have prove for her father’s abusing actions. The bruises she received during the abuse, the police often would categorise them as ‘caused by sport activities’. They never wanted to anything with this neighbourhood, we’ve got a bad name, so they try to stay out of it as much as possible.”

Chan wanted to cry again. He had a feeling her living situations were bad, but not this cruel. “Do you perhaps know why she never left? She could’ve run away, right?” Chan asked with a croaking voice. “She could. We’ve offered her a place in our house plenty of times, she would refuse every time.” The woman sighed, slightly smiling as she shook her head in disbelief. "How come?” Chan asked again. “Under all those tattoos, scars and bruises. Under that thick skin of hers is a big heart, one that still loves her father very much even though he mistreats her badly. She believes in justice and in the good of people. Not everyone gets to witness that from her. She’s a special girl. It’s sad that she had to live like this.” She adds.

“So, what will happen to her father?” Chan and the woman saw Y/n’s father being dragged into a cop’s car, still unconscious like he was earlier. “I talked to the officer really quick, and he said that they would take him to a rehab and maybe to court if Y/n wants to make this a lawsuit-“ “Young man, who are you?” The woman was cut off by a medical worker who now stood in front of Chan. “I’m Chan sir, I’m a friend of Y/n’s.” He tried to say. “If you would, you could come along to the hospital. We could explain the situation further in the ambulance.” Chan agreed and jumped in the back of the wagon. Chan eventually couldn’t hear the paramedic, he was too focused on the bloody body of Y/n’s that was laid in front of him. He held her by the hand as he whispered his apologies to her. He wasn’t there when she needed him. The fight they recently had replayed in the back of his mind, his harsh words ringing in his own ears. He felt bad for turning against her when she called out for him.

‘I will make it up to you, I promise.’

In no time they would arrive at the hospital. Everything was intense and stressful. Chan was led to the waiting room where he was greeted by a hysterical crying Changbin who kept demanding through his cries to see Y/n.

“How did you guys get here?” Chan asked Felix, who managed to make his way to Chan and hug him quickly. “Changbin was one of Y/n emergency contacts. I bet you’re the one who called the ambulance?” Felix suspects. “Yeah, a neighbour where Y/n lives helped as well.” Chan slightly explained, his head still spinning from the intensity of the situation. “Changbin told us briefly what happened. I’m sorry, but we came as soon as we could.” Felix added. “How is he doing?” “Not going to lie, he’s a mess.” Felix muttered before they turned their faces to Changbin.

“This is all my fault. If only I would’ve called her to make sure she would be home with me. She would’ve have gone home to that bastard. He should be locked up in jail. He could’ve killed her. He has mistreated her so badly and I’m such a fool, I’m such a bad friend for not being there for her.” Changbin cried out. “No you’re not, you’ve always been there to help her. You know that.” Hyunjin tried to make out, but Changbin’s cries were too loud.

“What are you doing here?” Changbin suddenly yelled out emotionally, when he noticed Chan. Chan was stiffed in his place as Changbin stormed his way to him. “What the fuck are you even doing here? Are you the reason she had to go home! Did you make her go back to that bastard’s-“ Changbin had Chan by the neck almost, but was quickly stopped by Felix and Hyunjin who back Changbin up as they help him in their grip.

In the meantime Minho and Jisung ran to Chan who was now on his knees, gasping for air. “Bin, he’s the one I told you about. About the school thing with Y/n.” Felix vaguely but swiftly states. There was a physical change in Changbin’s posture as he calmed down. He turned to Chan again and now calmly walked over to him and dropped on his knees as well as he hugged his friend.

Chan was shocked by Changbin’s action and confused at Felix’s words. ‘I’ll explain later.’ He had mouthed, before signing that he would go and call around other people to inform them about the situation. Changbin was still in Chan’s arms, crying his heart out. “Thank you.” Was all he could say.

The boys waited hours for the results. Felix had informed Changbin’s family, since he was too emotional to do so. Besides that, there was no one else really to call. Chan reminded himself to inform the nice lady from Y/n’s neighbourhood, and pass by to tell her about Y/n’s state after they get the results. Changbin’s parents were on their way from work and promised to be there in thirty minutes. But before they knew it a doctor walked out of the hallway. “Y/n Y/l/n’s family?” The doctor called out. The boys all shot up and ran to the doctor, who then asked who is directly related to Y/n. But since no one was, he allowed Changbin to go in first. “…she’s awake and doing fine. Her head is bruised badly, so are her ribs, spine and legs. Her arms have about seventeen or more stiches, the glass was unfortunately quite deep pierced through her skin, but they will be removed within a week or two, but we don’t know that yet depending on how well her body heals itself. When you go in her room, be calm, her head is still pounding from he medicine we gave her, it hasn’t fully set in yet.” The doctor informed before moving along again to arrange some more things.

Changbin had rushed to the room, being led by a nurse of course. Tears start to well in eyes again when he saw Y/n in her weak state. She was shooting her nurse a small smile and thanked her before she locked eyes with Changbin. “Binnie.” She croaked out in a weak voice, but with a bright smile. Changbin rushed to his best friend and sat himself next to her. He held her hand tightly and brought it close to his face as a sign of affection.

The others were waiting in the hallway for their cue to come inside as Changbin talked to Y/n. “Are you the one who brought me here?” Y/n asked Changbin, squeezing his hand slightly. “Actually, it wasn’t me. It was Chan.” The words made Y/n’s heart drop to the bottom of her stomach. “H-he what now?” Changbin could hear by the fear in her voice and her increasing heartbeat that was being measured by the monitor.

Y/n felt scared, because her privacy was now exposed to people who weren’t meant to ever know about this dark side of her life. “Y/n, calm down. Breathe. It’s okay.”

Chan could hear the beeping, that copied Y/n’s heartbeat, coming loudly from the monitor. He could sense that she must be uncomfortable and maybe didn’t wanted to see him at all. They ended things on a bad tone too.

“I think I got to go.” Chan muttered before walking off. Felix tried to stop him and assure him that it would be fine, but Chan couldn’t help but feel like he needed to be away from her, too embarrassed and ashamed of himself as he thought about the last things, he had said to her.

Back in the room, Y/n had calmed down and Changbin called in the others. “Where’s Chan?” He asked Felix softly. “No idea, he ran out.” He softly replied.

“Where’s Chan?” Y/n asked, when she didn’t notice him among the guys. “H-he left.” Felix muttered. “Why?” Y/n asked surprised and sad. “We don’t know.” “Oh, will he come back?” She asked hopefully. Her big eyes slightly sparkled and it hurt Felix’s poor heart. “I-I don’t know- I’ll call him.” He said before he made his way out of the room, not being able to stand Y/n’s puppy eyes.

“How are you feeling Nugget?” Hyunjin asked as he softly brushed Y/n’s hair. “I’ve been better. How’s the shop?” She responded, making Hyunjin laugh. “You really are something else Nugget.” He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss on her hair. Y/n then focused on Jisung and Minho who also were sitting on the end of her bed and she looked at them in confusion.

“I’m sorry, not to be rude, but what are you doing here?” The two gulped loudly and apologised for their immature and toxic behaviour towards her. “…we should’ve have judged you like we did. We’re terribly sorry.” “Well, I’m glad you feel sorry, but the two of you were part of the many people who made my life harder than it already was, harder than it should’ve been. You said some horrible things about me and now here you are trying to get my forgiveness when part of your cruel words almost turned out to be reality.” She calmly said, sending shivers to their backs.

Changbin was fuming with anger and was ready to throw hands at them, even though they were his friends. “You did what! I’m going to kill you both-“ “Changbin no!” Y/n yelled, sitting up straight in one movement, making her gasp and hiss right after as the pain shot right through her whole body. Changbin shot his focus back on her and helped her lay back down. “Don’t do that!” He whined. “Then don’t be mad at them. You and Jisung make a pretty good team when it comes to producing.”

“But they were- hold on, how’d you know I work with Jisung?“ Changbin asked confused. “You’re not that bright when you’re drunk Tat Rat, but that’s beside the point.” “Dumpling, you know we also make a great team, right? You already help me with most of the melodies, lyrics and anything else. You’re so talented. You basically wrote our latest song-“ “You made that? Changbin told us that he had some help, but I never could’ve guessed that you made that. I’m deeply sorry. Please forgive us for our dumb actions. You’re very talented and your music and lyrics are truly amazing. I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you Jisung. That’s kind of you, I appreciate it.” Y/n said, slightly bowing her head in gratitude. “You’re going to let them get away with it just like that?” Changbin asked in disbelief. “I know what they did Bin, but they already had their shock.” Y/n chuckled slightly as the two looked at Jisung’s and Minho’s shaking state they, just like Chan, got from the intense situation. “D-does that mean you forgive us?” Jisung asked, almost surprised. “Not just yet Puffy Cheeks, but you’re on track of receiving it. I still feel a little uncomfortable with you two, but I just have to warm up to you two.” Y/n smiled and shot them a wink. “We promise to make it up to you.” Minho said as they bowed to her.

“It’s fine, really- Felix, did you reach Chan?” She asked as Felix walked back in the room, his phone still in his hand. “Yeah, he’s still on the line.” “Could I talk to him for a second?” Felix handed over the phone to Y/n and then shooed the guys out so she could have her privacy as she talked with Chan.

“H-hello? Felix?” She could hear Chan say on the other side of the line. Man, did she miss hearing his voice. “Where did you go?” She asked him softly. Chan’s heart skipped a beat when he head Y/n’s voice. “Y-y/n?” “Yes Channie?” She answered, driving Chan’s heart wild and bringing the butterflies in his stomach to life. “You didn’t answer my question Channie.” “I’m on the ground floor.” Chan managed to speak out, giving himself a mental speech to get it together and talk to her like normal person. “Oh! Good! You haven’t left yet, why don’t you come back up so we can talk?” Y/n proposed. “S-sure.” “Great, I’ll see you in a few then.”

As soon as Y/n hung up Chan hurried to the gift shop and bought an obnoxiously big balloon, a big teddy bear and a pudding. He carried them all to Y/n room and a smile was brought to his face when he saw her. His breath hitched when he saw her weak state, the stiches in her arms and the dark spots on the rest of her exposed body that peaked out of the blankets.

The others had left to the cafeteria, to wait up for Changbin’s parents and to give Chan and Y/n some space.

“Are those for me?” She asked as Chan walked closer. “Actually just the pudding, I needed some comfort.” He joked before handing her the bear with a smile, tying the balloon to her bed and placing the pudding on her side table. “Thank you.” She said with a smile. “No problem. I know you like pudding.” Chan chuckles. “For that too, but I meant, for bringing me here.” “Once again, n-no problem.” Chan stuttered nervously.

There would be a period of silence between the two, before Chan spoke up again. “Y/n, how long were you passed out for?” Chan asked her carefully. “What day is it today?” “Friday.” “Oh, three days I think.” Her answer made his heart drop to his stomach again. “I-“ “Chan how did you get my address?” Y/n asked, cutting him off.

“I got it from Adelaide, the librarian.” Chan admitted. “Why?” “I wanted to return the shirt you left after our sleepover.” “Chan cut the bullshit.” “I was worried about you, okay? You skip hours, sometimes days, but never more than two in a row.” “You notice that?” She asked surprise. “Of course, as your vice president I am ordered to do so.” Chan states. “Ah, as my vice president, I get it.” She said with disappointment heard in her tone.

Chan didn’t know what else to say about that, but kept quite when he saw the colour fade from Y/n face as her face turned into a concerned expression. “Where is my father?” She asked Chan, slightly panicking. “He- he was passed out in your house, the police took him to a rehab or something? I don’t know, your neighbour talked to me about it for a brief second.” Chan explained as he shifted his position so he was not looking at her straight. “Does he know I’m here?” “No, no! You’re safe Y/n. He can’t hurt you, he’s under supervision at the rehab.”

Her heart was still beating like crazy and Chan tried everything in his power to calm her down. Words didn’t seem to work and it seemed like her heart was getting ahead of itself, he leaned down and softly brought her into his arms, trying to not hurt her. He could hear her heart skip a beat, but stabilising soon after.

“Thank you.” She mutters. The two jumped in surprise when the doctor and a nurse walked in who were ready to inform Y/n about her health condition. After they did, they turned to Chan and introduced themselves to him.

“She will have to stay here for a couple more days, just so we can examine her ribs and spine to make sure nothing will bruise any further or end up being broken. She might like some company whilst she stays here.” “I promise to come and visit as much as I can, I’ll try every day even.” Chan smiled before he thanked the doctors. “Chan you really don’t have to do that, you know?” Y/n whispers after the doctors left. “I have something to make up. It’s the least I could do.” Chan murmured sadly as he looked away from her whilst fiddling with her fingers.

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat, and she thanked God the monitors didn’t expose her.

And so, days went on.

Minho and Jisung visited quite a lot. The first time they did, they brought her homemade cookies, that they made with a little help from Jisung’s mother. They often showed their regrets as well, they didn’t dare to look her in the eye.

Felix had mentioned how Y/n could be sweet but reckless. She could slit your throat or help you out generously, he made sure to know that they should be on her good side, which they now wished to be. Y/n was quick to forgive them, especially since Jisung seemed to be on the edge every time he visited her.

Changbin would obviously be around almost 24/7. He had work though, he was the one who paid the hospital bills and of course spend a lot of quality time with her, since he still felt at fault for not having her at his place. “Binnie, this had to happen one day, this week was that day. It’s fine, besides it was my decision to go home.” She kept assuring him as he was on the verge of a mental breakdown it seemed. She was glad to have him back on her side and would show that in affectionate ways.

They hugged a lot and even exchanged a few cheek squishes and hair ruffles going on between the two, Chan couldn’t lie, it made him a little jealous. Seeing the two cuddled up, calling them cute nicknames and fun ones. It only showed how close they have and had always been.

One day they were all visiting her, having a day off since it was Saturday. They were playing games on Hyunjin’s Nintendo Switch whilst the others went around to get everyone food.

“Here’s your food Y/n.” Chan says as he placed the food on her little table. “Thanks Moonlight.” The words took Chan by surprise and he was glad he wasn’t the one who was strapped onto a heart monitor. Chan wasn’t the only one that was surprised by the words that left Y/n’s mouth. “Excuse me, what was that?” Hyunjin asked as the others still seemed to be malfunctioning. “What? That’s what I call him all the time.” Y/n tried to make out as she kept munching on her food.

A blush that creeped onto Chan’s face betrayed him as he shyly began to eat his food. Changbin was surprised by how close Y/n and Chan actually were. Chan usually wasn’t too fond of nicknames, when it came from girls that weren’t close to him. Changbin could remember Chan telling him that he disliked it how this one girl kept calling him ‘Channie’.

‘I want my future girlfriend to call me that, not some random girl I have no interest in.’ He had said back then.

‘I guess things have changed.’ Changbin muttered to himself under his breath.

It was Monday and school was out. Chan fished a basket of food out of his locker and was ready to head back to the hospital. Many girls would be wondering where he was going to. They were hoping and imagining that he would pick one of the girls out and take them on a date. Unfortunately, as he finally escaped the swarm of girls, he was stopped by Sooyun who appeared into his view. “Where are you going Channie? I thought we could hang out today.”

‘Well you thought wrong.’ “I can’t I have somewhere to go to.” Chan muttered before he walked past her. “Maybe I can come with you! I have nothing to do anyway!” She chirped as she followed him. “Sooyun really, I can go by myself. I’m going to the hospital anyway.” Chan blurted out in annoyance. “Oh! Are you sick! Oh no! Can I do something for you! Why aren’t you at home? Do you have a fever? Is it bad? Maybe you should come with me instead and let me take care of you-“ She rambled on, making Chan sigh and lie to her that he was visiting his grandmother.

“Oh, is she okay?” “Yeah, just a bad fever, she’ll get better.” Chan sighed, he was getting closer and closer to the hospital and he scolded himself for not taking the car today. ‘Darn you beautiful weather.’

“Oh, that’s good! Maybe I could tag along! I would love to meet her.” “Look, Sooyun, I really have to hurry now, she’s expecting me.” Chan tried to say as he quickened his pace to the hospital.

When he didn’t see her next to him, he sighed in relief and entered the building. He asked the nice lady at the front desk if he could go to Y/n’s room and she replied that she would announce his way up. He thanked her and hurried his way to Y/n.

Little did he know, that Sooyun was still closely behind him. “Excuse me, my boyfriend was just here. He had a braided basket with him.” Sooyun lied with a bittersweet smile. “Oh, that sweet gentleman with the blonde hairdo? He made his way up already, would you like me to announce you as well?” She asked. “No, she already knows Chan and I are coming.” “Okay, he went to room 4-19S.” “Thank you, ma’am.”

Sooyun rushed her way up to the next couple floors, she wanted to see who Chan actually was taking care of.

She heard Chan’s voice coming out of the room and decided to stay out as he talked to whoever.

“…I know Moonlight, I’m just worried.” “Y/n, you don’t have to. Your father is under supervision as he is in rehab, you’re healing well and you will be back on track in no time.” “I hope so. After all of this, I hope things will change. I’m done with the abuse, I hope dad will get better as well. I want us to be together as a family, we’re all we both have.” “Well, you have me too now, you have Changbin of course and the others. We’re all here for you.” Chan assured.

“But not for too long.” Sooyun whispered as a plan came to her little mind, making her smirk smugly as she left.

“Isn’t Changbin coming?” Chan asked as he unpacked the basket, making Y/n do a wiggly dance in her bad as she was handed one of his infamous sandwiches. “No, his last client wanted to redesign his tattoo, so he’s kept busy for the next six hours.” She pouted with half of the sandwich already in her mouth, making Chan laugh. “Too bad, I guess someone has to eat his sandwich then-“ “Gimme-“ “Miss Y/l/n?” The doctor said, interrupting them.

“You’re healing very well and you’re allowed to go back home, but due to your situation we need a new address where your medication will be send to.” He said as he handed Y/n a stack of papers. Chan took them from her and filled them in, insisting that she would stay at his. “N-no, Chan really I can stay at Chang-“

“It’s already done, beside I still feel like I need to make it up to you.” He mutters before handing the papers back to the doctor so Y/n couldn’t argue against him.

“Well, since that’s settled then, there are a few things you can’t do, like lifting things. Your muscles are slightly injured since the glass was spread all over your arms and stuck quite deep in them. Besides that, you can’t participate in sports for another couple of months, take your medicine regularly and take it easy for now. You can check out today if you want, just go down to the front desk and sign some couple more papers and you’re good to go.”

“Thank you, doctor.” “You’re welcome, I’ll see you in two weeks for a check-up.” He said with a smile before he left.

“Chan you really didn’t have to do that-“ “I do, your ribs are bruised, your arms are still recovering and I fought with you when you needed me and the guilt has been eating me alive. None of this would’ve happened if I fought with you that week before.” Chan murmured as he got up. “Chan…” “No, it’s okay for now. Let’s get you ready to leave, shall we?”

“…yeah, she isn’t allowed to carry things and she has to take her medicine on a daily basis basically.” Chan explained to Changbin over the phone. “Okay, where are you heading right now?” Changbin asked. “I’ll be taking her home, she’ll have to stay there for a while.” “O-oh, that’s cool. I’ll be going then, my client is done with his break.” Changbin mutters. They exchanged goodbyes and hung up the phone call.

‘I’m not home, where is he taking her?’ Changbin asked himself. He felt mad, he felt like he was stabbed in the back, but he thought that Chan probably had a good reason for his actions, well he at least hoped Chan did. He could do something about it, but in the back of his mind he knew he didn’t had to.

Chan and Y/n had arrived at Chan’s apartment, which Y/n still remembered too well. He told her to wait in the living room as he would go upstairs and get her guest room ready. She felt a little useless for not being able to help him, but he wouldn’t let her, since she wasn’t allowed to basically do anything.

Y/n was shifting back and fort as she waited for Chan to finish, when suddenly a door opened that revealed Chan’s parents, who were quick to look at her in shock. “What are you doing here?” His mother had yelled at her, making her head pound instantly and wince in pain because of it. “Mom, calm down, I brought her here.” Chan was quick to defend Y/n as he hurried back into the living room. “What is the meaning of this Chan.” She demanded, already filling the atmosphere with discomfort that came from her tone. “Her father abused her, she just got out of the hospital and need to be taken care of, besides that she needs a roof above her head. So, stop being so judgemental of her and let her be. If you will excuse us, we’ll be upstairs if you need us.” Chan grabbed Y/n by the hand and, carefully, dragged her upstairs.

Leaving her heart beating loudly for him and his parents speechless.

Gif isn’t mine, but it was too good to not use.

(Also I don’t know how I feel about this chapter, I don’t think I’m satisfied with it, so if you notice any changes in the future you now know why.)

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