#my dear dutiful roommate had to scrape them off for me

[morkleemelon]

off the ice || chapter 4: don’t look back

previous || m.list || playlist || next

pairing: college hockey player! mark x fem. college figure skater! reader

genre: fluff, sports au, college au

word count: 6.5k

warnings: blood, mention of surgery, description of injuries, swearing, financial struggle

author’s note: huge thanks again to my beta readers @writing-frog​ and @skiimmiilk​ for being a great help to making this story better! the slow burn fire is finally burning in this chapter and I’m so excited :) if you haven’t been listening already, I highly recommend the playlist for this chapter! enjoy~

“What do you mean ‘it’s fine’?,” you sobbed, gripping the side of her hospital bed. You wanted to give your best friend a hug, but you didn’t want to risk hurting her more. Yuna’s right leg was pinned into an apparatus, the intricate metal carefully holding together the broken bones, her usual perfect skin marred by scratches of red and patches of blue. 

“I mean what I said”. Even with a sore voice and her current situation, Yuna managed to speak with dignity.

“And Ms. Kim is right,” the doctor agreed, jotting down a prescription on her clipboard, “the surgeries went well and she is in stable condition. The good news is that with proper rest and physical therapy, she will be able to walk again. Now, it’s my duty to be honest with you. You said you’re a figure skater?”.

“Yes”. Yuna uncurled her fingers, inviting you to hold her hand. You accepted it, bracing both of you for the bad news. Ten sat at the other side of the bed pressing her other hand to his lips.

“While we cannot rule out the possibility, the likelihood of you being able to skate again is very low. Especially for the next few years”. 

Yuna’s tough façade started to crumble at the shocking reality and her lips trembled as she choked back tears. You pressed your forehead to her hand as you hid your own tears from her. 

“God damn it!”. Ten yelled, getting up and kicking away the stool he was sitting on. The loud bang was followed by the sound of quiet weeping. “I shouldn’t have let you out of my sight. I shouldn’t have told you to go to the car first. None of this should’ve happened, god damn it”. The older boy cried into his palms as he placed the blame on himself. 

“Please settle down and refrain from disturbing the patient,” the doctor warned, “but we would like to talk to you about the details of the accident, Ms. Kim, now that you’re awake and stable”.

Yuna nodded, a few tears escaping and rolling down her scraped-up cheeks.

“Your right leg is broken in three places upon impact with the vehicle: two in the femur and one major area in the tibia. You then sustained minor external injury as you fell to the pavement, scraping your arms and face. We will run additional tests later on to determine if you also have a concussion. If you can remember any details of how this accident happened, please describe them to me and we can notify the police to help find the suspect”, the doctor continued.

“I,” Yuna cleared her throat, “I was at a party last night and I had a bit to drink. We stayed pretty late and Ten is close with the host, so we just decided to sleep over. Then this morning, I woke up early and I wanted to go on a drive to clear my head. Ten had to get something so I left the house first. I- I checked both ways before I crossed the street to his car, but before I knew it… it came out of nowhere and I was on the ground. I don’t… I can’t remember anything about it. The next thing I remember was being in the ambulance with Ten”. 

“I heard the whole thing happen,” Ten added softly, “I was inside the house at the time and I heard the screeching tires and Yuna screamed. By the time I ran outside, the car was gone and Yuna was bleeding on the ground”. He closed his eyes and clenched his fist. “All I could do was call an ambulance. I- I didn’t see the car or the bastard driving it. All I could do was sit with her in the street while we waited. She wasn’t waking up and all I could do was sit with her. I couldn’t even move her because I was afraid it would make it worse and she was bleeding everywhere. All I could do was sit there”. 

Tears stream down your face as you listen to Ten break down. The normally bright and optimistic man now had his face in his hands, hiccupping uncontrollably at the thought of how close he came to losing the love of his life.

“Hey,” Yuna groaned, struggling to keep her own voice steady, “baby, I’m okay. When we met, you were hurt and struggling, but you got through it because we were together. We’re still together and we can get through this too”. She touched her fingers through his hair gently. 

“Thank you for your cooperation, Ms. Kim, and both of your friends. The police are currently asking for witnesses for your hit-and-run case and will update you with any findings. These are your prescriptions”, the doctor slid the piece of paper onto the counter, “the nurse will come find you later to talk about your treatment. For now, I’ll leave you all alone”. 

The room fell silent, only interrupted by the occasional sniffle as the doctor shut the door behind her.

“Hey y/n?”. Yuna turned her head gingerly to you.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I can’t do the competition with you now. I promised I would but…”

“Don’t even… how could you worry about that right now?”, you sobbed, “don’t you worry about it, Yuna, the competition doesn’t matter at all. I’m just glad you’re okay right now. You should focus on getting better, not worry about me of all things”. 

“Y/n is right,” Ten agreed, “you were there for me when I got hurt. And when I thought there was no way out, you held my hand and pulled me up from the darkness. Doctor says you have a good chance of walking, so let’s get you there first. Then we’ll work on beating the odds and getting you back on the ice again”. 

“You guys…” Yuna smiled slightly, careful not to strain her bruised jaw. 

“I’ll come visit you as much as I can,” you promised, “I can bring my sleeping bag, clothes, and a jar of peanut butter. We can just be roommates here instead. There’s free AC and disney band aids too, it’ll be great”. Your attempt to lighten the mood was well received as the couple chuckles together. 

“By the way, I called your parents while you were in surgery and they’re on their way over now. They should actually be here soon,” Ten noted.

“I’ll leave you guys then,” you offered. There was a two visitor limit and you didn’t want to intrude on Ten and Yuna’s chance to have some private time before her parents bombarded her with concern. Not to mention Mark has been sitting in the waiting room for a few hours now and you wanted to be respectful of his time too.

Offering your last words of support to Yuna, you shut the door quietly behind you. Dabbing at your watery eyes with the edge of your sleeve, you attempt to fix your run-off makeup using your phone camera. Everything felt kind of numb. The events of the last 24 hours were surreal and staying up the whole night with Mark certainly did not help as the tiredness was catching up to you. Concern, upset, worry, and frustration formed a thick cloud in your thoughts. Your brain was like a jammed printer and the thoughts were not processing. You were in shock to say the least.

You shuffle your way down the hall to the waiting area and look for Mark’s familiar blonde hair. You spot him fast asleep in his seat, arms crossed over his chest as he leans his head back against the wall. His mouth is slightly agape, forming a soft ‘o’ as he breathed steadily in and out. Seeing him sleep so peacefully made you relax a little. 

At least there was something good about today.

“Hey,” you whisper, shaking him gently. His eyes blink open slowly, wincing at the bright hospital lights. 

“Hey,” he croaks, rubbing his eyes as he sits up straight. “How’s Yuna? Did you get to see her?”.

“She’s…,” you pause, “she’s okay. She said she was okay when I saw her just now and the doctor said she’s stable but…,” your voice trails off. 

“But what?,” Mark asked gently, placing a comforting hand on your back. You look around to make sure there was nobody around who could overhear. A few people sat around the waiting room a ways away, texting on their phones or flipping through the free health magazines. The receptionist’s monotonous voice droned on as she answered a phone call.

“The doctor says that Yuna might not be able to skate again,” you murmured. Even though the doctor made it clear before, saying the words out loud felt extremely surreal. You imagined if it were you lying on the hospital bed hearing this news. To not be able to skate again… it was too awful to comprehend. Tears roll down your cheeks before you could help it, dangling from the point of your chin before falling onto your green volunteer shirt. 

Mark thought about what he could say in reply to the devastating news, but decided it was best to not say anything at all. Pulling you in for a hug, you cry silently into the crook of his neck. You wrap your arms around his torso and hold on for dear life. 

The next few weeks pass by rather uneventfully after the incident, at least comparatively. Police were still on the case of Yuna’s hit-and-run perpetrator, but they struggled to find witnesses when the crime occurred so early in the morning. Even the local CCTV didn’t cover the area where it happened and the driver was still ultimately at large. 

The Lee’s and your other friends texted in the group chat plenty and you grew much more comfortable with having them around. Mark drives you to the hospital to visit Yuna a couple times a week and the three of you would eat lunch together in her room for a small sense of normalcy. It was a tough transition for you nonetheless- your best friend and roommate who you were used to seeing every day now was now seemingly so far away and your time together was reduced to a few hours a week. However, the initial shock of the situation eventually faded and the two of you came to terms with how things were. Yuna and you agreed to not cry about it anymore until she got started on physical therapy and gave recovery her best shot. Thankfully, Ten was there with her everyday and night, so it was bearable for her. 

Mark’s always been sweet about your comfort zone, too, never pushing you to talk about your feelings yet at the same time, always there for you when you needed him. Neither one of you brought up the almost-kisses, the first reason being you weren’t ready to remind yourself of the horrible things that happened afterwards and the second being that Mark wanted to respect that you needed time to process it. 

So the days tick by and seeing Mark became part of your daily routine. It was something you looked forward to when you got ready in the morning and although you didn’t really know it, it was something you needed to make your day feel complete. His good heart shined more and more to you everyday as you chose to continue to accompany him to Sunday volunteering. You got to witness how Mark’s eyes glowed whenever he talked to the people he served. He treated everyone there as if they were his own family and even though many of the people he helps are much older, he continues every conversation with sincerity and maturity. 

In addition to walking you to class everyday, Mark now has a special seat next to you in the front row of your economics lecture, leaving Jeno and Ten snickering behind you as they watch your close interactions. You ate lunch at the willow tree by the basketball court on the days you weren’t visiting Yuna. After a while, you grew used to the dirty looks from the girls across the court, even glaring back when you met Hillary’s fiery stare. Nonetheless, you developed a comfortable social routine and everything was going quite well, except for one abundant issue weighing heavily on your shoulders.

The middle of October rolls by and you grind your way through your evening shift at Frankie’s. Thankfully, it was a Tuesday, so late-night stragglers weren’t an issue. You finish scrubbing down the counters in the kitchen and wipe your hands on your waitress apron. Unfortunately, it was your turn to close so you were the only one left working tonight. Your back ached from the hours of waiting tables and your cheeks hurt from the wide smile you offered all of your customers, rude or not. Sighing, you count your tips for the day.

A bell chimes from the door.

“Sorry we’re closed-,” you stop your words as you see the figure illuminated by the low diner lights. 

“Is it too late for me to talk with the pretty waitress?” Mark grins, unzipping and taking off his wind breaker. You roll your eyes but your smile tells him you aren’t actually annoyed.

“The pretty waitress is covered in barbeque sauce and all purpose cleaner. Proceed?”

“Oh no, not barbeque sauce! Cancel request! Cancel Request!”

You laugh, throwing a nickel at his dramatic show. 

“Wait, give that back to me. I need every tip I can get,” you say, holding out your hand to receive the coin. Mark obediently picks it up, handing it to you as he takes a seat at the bar. You thank him, flipping through the crinkled, greasy bills from the tip jar. The creeping disappointment must have shown on your face because Mark broke the silence.

“Not a good night?” His words were careful. He understood you were under a lot of stress recently, but he didn’t have the heart to pry further and make you tell him why, which you appreciated. Mark assumed it was about Yuna or grades, but you never confided the real reason of how much your financial situation really scared you.

“Not a good…” you debate telling him everything. On one hand, you didn’t want to come off as needy or desperate. You were infamously bad at sharing your burdens with others. On the other, you wanted to tell Mark because you know he would listen and it would make you feel better. “Not a good anything,” you finally admit, setting the scraggly bills down on the clean counter between you. 

Only $26.84 for the whole night.

Mark’s soft brows were creased in concern as he waited for you to elaborate. He rested his chin on his knuckle, watching you pensate your feelings carefully. You meet his soft gaze, his eyes telling you that it’s okay. You let your shoulders relax, not even realizing the tension they were carrying.

“I…,” you start, letting out a small sigh as you walk your way around the counter to sit on the stool next to him. He spun his stool so he was sitting facing you. You pick at the mysterious stain on your apron. 

How do I even tell him about this? Hey Mark, I’m broke! I might drop out because I don’t have money for school, thus ruining everything my parents and I have worked for. 

“I guess I’m just worried,” you resolve after a minute, “I’m worried because, well, because of money”. You wince at hearing the words out loud but continue before you could take it back, “my parents are working really hard to get the money for my tuition, but things aren’t looking good for next semester”. You continue to tell him about how you’ve been picking up extra shifts to try to save up, but skating fees and money for basic necessities eats whatever you earn right up. The thought of quitting skating to save money came to your mind, but you never followed through because that was as much of a necessity as anything. A miracle occurred with the skating competition, only for some sick bastard to hurt Yuna. You asked around but everyone already had a partner or were too busy to participate in the competition. So now you could either go rob a bank or take a gap year and hope you’ll be able to return. Mark listened to your qualms quietly until you finished.

“The competition, did you ask people who aren’t on your team?,” Mark inquired, resting a reassuring hand on yours.

“Yeah, I even asked the girls on JV, but nobody wants to do it since they think they can’t win,” you confirm with a sad nod.

“That’s so dumb,” Mark stated, “you’re like, the best skater ever. Even the worst girl on JV could win if they did it with you”.

You look at him in surprise. His thumb ran comfortingly across your knuckles, sending tingles down your arm. A blush creeps onto your cheeks as you look back down at your joined hands. To be honest, you weren’t really sure what you guys were: officially, you were just friends at the moment, but anyone could see that there was something there. As of late, too much has been on your mind for you to possibly sit down and ponder it. Neither one of you has confessed feelings of any sort, but the night at the lake couldn’t just be ignored. And do normal friends hold hands like this?

“Right, tell that to them. Nobody wanted to be my partner, so yeah, I’m kind of in a pickle with tuition right now”

“Well can anyone be your partner?,” Mark asked.

“What do you mean? Like, just ask random strangers to skate with me?”

“No I mean like… I could do it”. His expression was serious, alluding that he meant every word of his ridiculous proposition.

“You could-” you stop to consider, “I mean I guess? I don’t think Coach Tanya said anything about the participants needing to be on the team… or be a girl. But there’s a big problem we’re not considering.”

“What problem?”

“You don’t know how to figure skate”. You free your hand from his and punch him lightly in the arm. 

“But I play hockey and I’ve skated all my life,” Mark bargained, pointing to himself smugly and shrugging, “how hard can it be?”

“How hard-” you wheeze. You laugh out loud as the serious boy looked on indignantly. “Figure skating is miles different from what you guys do. Y’all go, what, forwards and backwards? Can you do a jump?”.

“I can too do a jump,” Mark defended.

“Okay, what about a single axel jump?”

“Uh…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you giggle, grabbing the counter and spinning your stool around. Mark watches you endearingly.

“Y/n” the sound of your name stops your childish break and you look at him expectantly. “What if I practiced every day. I can learn your uh- single axis”

“Axel,” you correct.

“Axel. I can learn this axel jump and I can practice it and whatever else you need so you can do the competition”. You couldn’t tell if he was being serious, but your heart skipped a beat nonetheless.

“Deadass?” 

“Deadass,” Mark nodded. 

“Why… why…”. You struggled to find the right words.

“Because I like you,” Mark interrupted, “and I want to do this for you because it would make you happy. I’d streak across campus fully nude and screaming if it made you happy”. 

Did he just...confess?

“It would,” you nod seriously.

“It would? Which part? The competition or-”

“No, the streaking,” you shake your head, ignoring the steady increase of your heart rate. You press your lips into a flat line and nod to feign seriousness. Mark paused before getting up. He reached for the hem of his shirt, sighing before lifting it up over his head. 

“Let’s get this over with,” he sighed, reaching for his belt buckle. You shriek, shielding your eyes from his half-nude appearance. Although you didn’t want to admit it, you let your eyes linger on his lean torso through your fingers.

Damn, maybe hockey does have some benefits. 

“I was kidding! Please put your clothes back on!,” you cry. You heard him laugh as he pulled the fabric back on. 

“Okay I’m decent. I’m decent,” Mark assured, taking his seat next to you again. “But seriously, I meant what I said and you don’t have to reply until you’re ready. I completely understand if you don’t know yet. Just know that I am here for you and I,” he grabbed the edge of your stool and pulled it firmly so you were facing him, “really like you. As more than friends”.

You felt surprisingly confident; the stress of life always went away when Mark was around and you forgot all about the scattered pennies and nickels on the counter. Although his confession was so sudden, you had a feeling it was coming eventually. It didn’t feel shocking, but more like… finally. That being said, you were unsure of what to say. You weren’t sure you were ready for a relationship and most of all, you weren’t sure about your feelings for him. The last thing you wanted was to say you like him back and have it end up not being true. 

Like always, the understanding, patient look in Mark’s eyes told you that he would wait for you to reply when you’re ready.

“Okay”. You smile. 

“Okay”. He mirrors.

“Let’s do it, the competition,” you decide.

“Really?”

“Yeah, let’s give it our best shot! After all, it’s a crowd vote and your popularity might gain us favor,” you tease, poking his chest. “What time is it?”

“It’s 9:48pm, why?,” Mark replied, checking his lock screen. You hopped off your stool and began untying your apron.

“You drove here right?”. He nods. “Then there’s somewhere I wanna go if you’re willing to drive”. You shove your tips for the night into your bag. 

“You know I’m always down for you,” Mark smiled, grabbing your jacket off the rack and helping you into it. He stood in front of you and zipped you up without you asking, fixing the hood so it was proper. You watch him in silence and awe as he smooths down the wrinkles by your collar carefully and slings the strap of your bag over his shoulder without a word. It’s always these things, the little things, that leave you speechless.

The drive was pleasant. Mark put on your favorite radio channel and the two of you vibed comfortably to the acoustic music, the only interruptions were your quiet directions to the desired destination. You examined Mark’s face as he focused on the road, tipping his head back and forth to the beat with one hand on the wheel. It was dark, but the passing street lights illuminated his features in mesmerizing flashes, almost as if they were afraid to show his face for too long, the beauty would be too much to handle. His cheekbones were especially accentuated by the small smile on his lips. Looking at him made you feel… calm.

You pulled into the familiar parking lot. The blue neon lights above the building reading “Skate City” buzzed with electricity as the two of you got out of the car. 

“You wanted to come here? To a kid’s roller rink?”. Mark chuckled as he shut the driver side door. 

“Make fun of me now but you’ll see why” you rolled your eyes, walking through the building door which Mark held open for you.

The interior of the building was just like you remembered: the dark, ragged carpet was covered in colorful squiggles and dots resembling an abstract representation of worms and confetti. If that wasn’t bad enough, the matching wallpaper and UV lights topped off the hallucinogenic nightmare of a roller rink. Usually, it was also filled with the screams of children. Due to the lateness in the day, the rink was empty and usual disco funk was turned off. You would think it was closed if it weren’t for the man watching TV behind the counter.

“Mr. Joseph,” you call out with a wave. The man grunted, pulling his feet from off of the counter and shuffling through the mess of papers to find his glasses. He was an unassuming man in about his early forties, balding, pot-bellied, and proud. Nobody would guess that he was the man who taught you to skate all those years ago.

“Why, is that Miss y/n?,” Mr. Joseph exclaimed, rounding the counter to hug you.

“How have you been, Joe?”

“Well, you know me. I’m gettin’ by. Who’s this fella over here?”. Joe adjusted his specs and squinted at Mark.

“This,” you nudge the shy boy forward slightly, “is my friend, Mark. Mark, this is my family friend and former coach, Mr. Joseph. Also known as Joe,” you introduce.

The two men exchange a firm handshake.

“Nice meeting you, Mark. You treating her right?” Joe narrowed his eyes.

“Um so,” you cough, saving Mark from the awkward question, “Joe, we need skates for Mark”. 

“Wait but I already have skates, y/n-,” 

“No, you have hockey skates, Mark. You’re gonna need proper figure skates if we’re gonna do this competition right,” you explain. 

“Competition, huh,” Joe gruffed, waddling into the back room and motioning for you to follow. 

“Yeah, I don’t know if my parents told you, but Yuna was in an accident and now she can’t do the pair skate with me. Mark’s a hockey player but,” you glance at him with a smile, “he offered to pick up some skills and be my partner”.

“Here,” Joe smacked a pair of skates into Mark’s arms, “try these, boy”.

“Thank you, sir”. Mark bowed and went out to the bench to try them on.

Once he was out of sight, Joe leaned down to you, “you like this boy?”.

“Stop!,” you cry, covering your reddening ears with your hands.

“I’m just saying,” Joe held up his hands innocently, “I can tell he likes you by the way he looks at you. Even from meeting him just now”.

“Yeah… I just,” you stop to think about it. Well it’s true he likes you...

Do you like him?

You look to the door where you could see his shadow lacing up the new skates. You wish he would hurry back. Being without him felt like something was missing. Even if he was right around the corner, it didn’t feel good that you couldn’t see him and feel his reassuring presence. Realization began creeping in and you turn to look back at Joe’s I-told-you-so expression. He gave you a pat on the shoulder, “Make sure he’s good to you”.

Mark’s figure reappeared at the doorway, oblivious to your pounding heart and emotions which were becoming slowly more apparent. You watch endearingly as he stepped awkwardly into the room wearing the skates, stretching out his arms to maintain his balance. 

“I think they fit!,” Mark beamed at you, causing the butterflies in your stomach to migrate all around. 

“That’s good, boy. Take them on the house,” Joe guided him back out to take them off before he could hurt himself. 

“Oh no, sir-”

“Please, they were collecting dust in that storage room. Nobody wants men’s figure skates anymore these days and I’m glad to help y/n out” Joe dismissed. 

“Joe,” you stop him, wrapping your arms around Joe’s neck to give him a big hug, “thank you,” you whisper. 

“Of course, kiddo” he pat your back, “you make me proud”.

After chatting for a bit longer, you bid your goodbyes to Joe as he locked up Skate City for the night. In the car, you hold your breath and turn towards Mark. Strangely, your head was in the clouds as you examined his face, a face you’ve grown so familiar with in the past few weeks, yet seemed brand new. Suddenly, he leaned in close, close enough to count his pretty eyelashes, warranting your breath to hitch in your throat. Unaware of your, Mark places the box of skates in the backseat and sits up straight again to buckle his seatbelt. You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

Right, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself.

“So, are you tired or do you wanna do some skating today?,” you finally ask.

Mark flashed you a crooked smile, starting the car, “Y/n, I’m always down for you. School rink?”.

You nod. 

The whole drive back to the school was noticeably more awkward, at least to you. You tensed  at every word he said and felt your heart clench when he hummed along to the soft radio tune. Saying nothing or giving short, one word replies, you didn’t trust your voice to say more. Instead, you opted to look out the window at the passing scenery for the fear of Mark noticing your flushed expression. You tug uncomfortably at your jacket collar, beginning to regret asking him to skate tonight. Ironically, and perhaps foolishly of you, you’ve received his confession yet you’re unwilling to admit the good news of mutual feelings to yourself. What should you do or say? Surely it’s not right to just say ‘I like you! I figured it out haha let’s date!” out of the blue. 

Pulling into the sports center parking lot, you notice the locks on the front door.

“Oh crap, I forgot it’s a weekday. The rink is closed after 11,” you mutter, slightly relieved at the thought of heading home to sort out your feelings alone. 

“Don’t worry, we can sneak in through the side door,” Mark answers nonchalantly, getting out to open the car door for you. You don’t disregard the kind gesture and instead feel the familiar pressure in your chest again. 

And sneak in you did. 

Mark had clearly done this a few times judging based on the way he led you confidently to the obscured side door which was propped slightly open with a rock.

You went your separate ways in the eerily empty stadium to your respective locker rooms. Splashing your face with cool water, you attempt to rein in your fiery flush. 

How should I bring it up? Or do I wait? He already said he likes me, but what if he didn’t mean it? 

After changing into your skates, you take a deep breath and head out to the ice.

He was already there waiting for you by the railing. Mark must have heard your footsteps approaching and he turned to give you a warm smile. 

“You’re right, y/n, these skates are kinda different”. He tapped the toe pick into the padded floor.

“Yeah… right,” you mumbled, struggling to meet his bright eyes. 

He’s so cute.

Pale moonlight streamed through the glass ceiling panels and illuminated your surroundings. Mark’s hair made his face glow silver and his eyes sparkled with the reflection of the moon. His face fell at your weak response, reading it as disinterest.

You open the gate and skate out onto the ice in front of him. Mark tentatively skated out to follow you, wobbling slightly at the different sensation. You reach out to grab his arms and steady him, meeting his gaze briefly before blinking away. You loosen your grip on his sleeves, the contact making your feelings go wild.

For a few moments, the two of you silently glided across the ice. For the first time ever, it seems, you weren’t sure what to say to him.

“Listen,” Mark finally spoke, struggling to a stop. He looked down at his skates thoughtfully, “If it’s about what I said earlier, if it’s about me liking you and that made you uncomfortable, I- I take it back. I feel like I didn’t give you a chance to say no if you wanted to-”

“No it’s-,” you interrupt, skating slightly ahead, “It’s not that”. 

“Then why are you acting so strange?,” Mark asked, struggling to keep up.

“I just,” you circle to a stop at the middle of the rink. How do you even begin to explain how you feel? Never in your life have you felt like this about anybody. Never in your life have you felt so special and so cared for than when you were with Mark. You would have been lucky enough just being able to know him, but he even likes you. Out of all of the people he could have chosen, he chose you.

Mark careened to a halt behind you, waiting for you to finish. You take a deep breath.

Now or never.

You turn around to face him. 

“What you told me in the diner, tell it to me again”. Your voice came out weaker than you had intended.

Mark’s eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and worry that you were upset with him. He wanted to pull you into a hug, tuck that piece of hair back behind your ear and tell you it’s okay if you didn’t love him back.

“I-,” Mark cleared his throat from his emotions, “I said that I like you, y/n. I like you as more than friends”. He looked down towards his feet but before he could blink, he was crushed in between your arms as you jumped to hug him. Your face fit perfectly into the crook of his neck and you breathed in his familiar, warm scent as he wrapped his arms delicately around your waist. The force from your impact caused both of you to drift slightly, but you kept steady. Not brave enough to look him in the face, you whisper your confession to his ear.

“I’m ready to answer you. I… I like you too. As more than friends”

Mark’s grip tightened around your waist as he lifted you slightly off the ice. Spinning around, he curled his fingers into the fabric of your sweatshirt as if he never wanted to let you go. Your heart swelled at the feeling as you held onto his sturdy shoulders. Neither of you needed to say anything more. He pulled you close so there was no space left and you listened to the gentle rhythm of his heart beating for you.

Pulling away at last, you rest your forehead against his. Your eyes fluttered closed but you could feel the tip of his nose brush gently across yours, his warm exhalation fanning across your lips. 

“You don’t happen to have your phone on you, do you?” Mark mumbled deeply, savoring the moment.

You let out a small giggle, “no, do you?”.

“Nope”

And with that, you tilted your head up ever so slightly and Mark cupped your cheek to bring your lips together. You melt into his kiss and touch, allowing the way his soft lips moved against yours to express his silent affections. Exhaling through your nose, you sigh into the kiss, moving your hand to rest at the back of his head to pull him in deeper.

Finally.

Mark ran his thumb affectionately across your cheek, his lips speaking of all the times he’s wanted to do this. Your fingers lace their way through his soft hair, loving the way he reacts as you tug against the strands slightly. 

A loud bang from a closing door causes you to pull apart finally. The bright beam of the security guard’s flashlight flashes across the ice as the two of you look on like deer caught in headlights. 

“Hey, you two! Get out of there!,” the guard shouted, pointing a finger at your embracing form.

“Run!,” you whisper yell, pulling him quickly towards the gate. The two of you run as quickly as you can in your skates, pulling them off before you enter the hallway. 

“Hey! Stop right there!,” the guard yelled, stumbling down the stadium stairs.

“Quick! In here!” Mark tugged you into the boys locker room, shutting the door before the guard could see and ushering you quickly to hide in the gap between two lockers. You squeezed in with him, panting softly as the adrenaline pumped through your body. Mark’s arms wrap around your body to pull you closer as the guard opens the door. The flashlight flicked menacingly across the dark room. You hold your breath as it comes particularly close. Finally, seconds that feel like hours pass and the security guard grunts before deciding to move on. You exhale in relief. 

Mark rests his chin on top of your head and you realize how closely you’re pressed together. You giggle into his chest, loving how warm he felt. 

“I can’t believe that I get to hold you,” Mark whispers. His fingers draw invisible shapes across your back.

You nuzzle your face into his tee shirt. “Well I can’t believe we’re doing this in the boy’s locker room after being chased down by security,” you mumble against the fabric. His chest sounded a low vibration as he chuckled back, moving his hand up to stroke your hair. 

“You are so, so beautiful, y/n,” he moves to kiss the top of your head, “I don’t know the words to express how beautiful you are to me”. 

You press deeper into his body at the words you’ve always wanted to hear. Lifting your face up from his chest, you press a small kiss to his lips, heart jumping at the still-new sensation. It was sweet, his lips ghosting over yours breathlessly as you nestle your nose gently against his in a slow eskimo kiss. 

“I’ve liked you for so long,” Mark whispers in between kisses, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long”.

You answer by gripping the fabric of his collar to pull him in deeper, moving your lips rhythmically against his. 

“I think I’ve liked you for a while too,” you admit as you catch your breath, “I just didn’t understand it. Or some part of me wasn’t ready to admit it”.

“That makes sense” Mark rests his forehead on yours, smiling, “I would have waited a thousand years if that’s what you needed”.

Again and again, he captivated you with his words. He was so good to you and never made you feel like you were anything less than perfect. Day after day, his patience with you never faded and slowly, you let him break down your walls. His comforting smile and optimism always filled you with reassurance and peace. 

So standing there, making out in the boy’s locker room, illegally, in the dead of night on a Tuesday, you became sure. You were sure that you wanted him in your life. You were sure you wanted to try to be a part of his. As you pressed your lips to his and as he ran his fingers through your hair, there was no turning back.

previous || m.list || next

#cznnet #neowritingsnet #neohours #ultkpopnetwork #kdiarynet #dreamwritersnet #nct fanfiction #nct fanfic #mark lee x reader #kpop fanfiction #mark lee #nct writing #mark lee fanfic #mark lee fanfiction #kpop fanfic #nct series #kpop series #nct au #mark lee x you #mark lee x y/n #nct writers #nct x reader #nct x y/n #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct mark #kpop fluff #kpop au

[snowdice]

One More Dance (Part 11 of the Series “Is There Anything Left of Patton?”)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton, Virgil & Patton, Logan & Virgil, Roman & Patton

Characters: Patton, Logan, Virgil, Roman, Remy

Summary: Logan and Virgil try to keep better track of their zombie roommate now that they know he can open doors. It doesn’t work.

Notes: Zombie Apocalypse AU, Patton is a zombie

This is the eleventh part of a series of one-shots called Is There Anything Left of Patton?

Previous parts:

“Something Left”

“Someone You’ll Never Meet”

“Food You’ll Never Eat”

“Things You’ll Never Do”

“There Are Things That Are Lost”

“There Are Things That Are Missing”

“And There is a Question”

“Is There Anything Left of Patton?”

“And There is an Answer”

“But What Does It Mean”

My Master Post

In the weeks that followed the macaroni revelation, Logan and Virgil kept a closer eye on the zombie in their home. They intended to keep him upstairs all the time, but a problem with this goal quickly arose. That is, Patton did not want to be upstairs all the time. Logan had even tried keeping him on his leash, but it quickly became apparent that, while Patton certainly hadn’t been able to get off the leash before, he very much could now. Logan had gone to sleep with him tied to a chair one night and had woken up with him in their bed, the leash still tied to the chair, but no longer attached to Patton.

For a while, he and Virgil traded off on watching Patton duty, but they quickly became exhausted and it seemed the moment they took their eyes off him, he was down the stairs to hold staring contests with Roman and Remy. They eventually gave up and let him do what he wanted. Apparently, he wanted to have not-quite conversations with Roman which always managed to make Logan’s blood pressure spike, but Roman would just chatter away while Patton stood there not reacting. Somehow, Roman never suspected anything was amiss and Logan eventually forced himself to relax about it and did his best to get on with life.

It was about a month after Roman and Remy first arrived. Patton was upstairs as it was still early morning and he’d been asleep when Logan had woken, and Logan was watching and silently judging Virgil as he started ripping up the couch once again. “Ugh, where is it?” Virgil asked.

Logan sighed heavily. “Did you honestly lose your hoodie again?” he asked.

“I swear! I swear I put it on the couch last night. Seriously, I didn’t touch it afterwards.”

“And yet, the fact that it isn’t there indicates otherwise.”

Virgil glared at him with a couch cushion in his hands. “You know, you’re kind of a dick sometimes.”

“What’s going on?” Remy asked, chewing on a hunk of bread as he exited the kitchen.

“You know you’re a monster, right?” Roman spoke up from where he was currently laying on the floor on the other side of the room. “There’s jam and honey in the kitchen. Why would you choose to eat plain bread? You didn’t even toast it.”

Remy just rolled his eyes and flipped him off.

“I lost my hoodie,” Virgil said. “Have you seen it?”

“Mmm, nope,” Remy replied, before stuffing the rest of the bread into his mouth. “But I lost my sweatshirt too so tell me if you find mine while you’re looking.”

“Please don’t talk with your mouth full,” Logan said, his face screwed up with his displeasure.

“Wait,” Virgil said. “Your sweatshirt’s gone too? When did that happen?”

Remy swallowed his food and shrugged. “I left it on the armchair last night and it was gone in the morning.”

“Weird,” Virgil said. “I left my hoodie on the couch last night and it was gone in the morning.”

“Ask Patton,” Roman suggested. “I heard him up and about last night again. Maybe he grabbed them.”

“No,” Logan replied, “That’s…” Ridiculous is what he’d been about to say, but then he paused and locked eyes with Virgil. Logan thought for a long moment. “Laundry,” he said softly.

“What?” Virgil asked.

“There was half folded laundry in the living room and blood in the kitchen,” he said distantly.

He turned on his heel and walked out of the room. “Hey, Logan, wait, what are you talking about?” Logan ignored Virgil in favor of continuing down the hall past the steps into a room he hadn’t used since before the outbreak. He heard Virgil and the others follow him and gather near the door to the small laundry room. He flipped open the lid to the washing machine and reached inside. “Is this the sweatshirt you were looking for?” he asked Remy.

Remy took it from him. “Yeah,” he confirmed. “Why was it in there?”

“Laundry and cooking,” Logan said in response. “He was… I believe Patton may have… gotten confused and was performing chores as he would before the outbreak.”

“Oh…” Remy replied.

Logan turned back to the washing machine and pulled out a different article of clothing before holding it out to Virgil. Virgil blinked and then snatched it away, his mouth open in surprise and possibly a small amount of outrage. “Apologize to me,” he demanded.

“…There is no way that I could have known.”

“Apologize!”

Logan pursed his lips. “I apologize.”

“Heck yeah, you apologize,” Virgil said. Then he blinked down at his hoodie. “H-how long has this been going on?”

It was a good question and, while Logan wasn’t sure of the exact date, it quickly became clear that the answer was a while.

There were small things he hadn’t noticed until he looked for them: doors in different positions then they were left, clothing moved about in drawers, the faces of the stuffed animals in the closet sometimes in different places.

Yet the most notable thing was when he’d come downstairs almost 3 months after Roman and Remy showed up to see a bucket in the corner of the living room by the armchair. “I think Patton got a bit confused again last night,” Roman explained when he asked. “I saw him pouring water in the corner, so I put a bucket there. That way it didn’t get anything wet.”

Logan cast his mind back through the months to when the water first started to appear. How much had he missed or looked over with Patton, he wondered. This, whatever it was, had been going on since last December at least as that’s when he’d first noticed the “leak.”

He had no idea what any of it meant.

God, it was really hot today, Virgil thought. Usually he didn’t like to have idle hands, even now, in the middle of July, he was always preparing for the winter, but today it was just too hot for working in any capacity and everyone else seemed to agree. Virgil was currently sprawled out across the couch, his feet over Patton’s lap, Logan was reading a book in the armchair and Remy was laying face down on the floor.

All day, Roman had been messing around with a guitar they’d found on a scavenging trip a couple of weeks ago. He seemed to have finally actually gotten it in tune and was singing some Disney song. Virgil was loath to admit it, but it was actually pretty nice just laying there listening even if, every so often, Patton would make some guttural humming sounds and shift around, trying to get to Roman and the noises he was making. Virgil always pushed down with his feet to keep him on the couch.

Roman finished the song and strummed idly for a few moments. Patton made more sounds in response. Suddenly, Roman snapped his fingers making Virgil jump and look over at him. “‘Here Comes the Sun!’” he exclaimed.

“What?” Virgil asked, squinting at him.

“That’s what he’s been humming all day!” Roman explained. “Ever since I sang ‘Yellow Submarine’! Do you like The Beatles, Patton?” Roman asked.

Virgil was 99% sure Roman was reading way too far into the sounds Patton had been making. Patton always made sounds when people around him were being noisy. Yet, before Virgil could even think of a way to respond, Roman was already on his knees in front of Patton and had started singing softly.

Virgil had to pause because, okay, yeah, maybe he could hear a bit of a resemblance to the noises Patton had been making recently. He watched as Patton reached for Roman like he reached for every moving thing that entered his vicinity, but Roman took it as something that it wasn’t and grabbed his wrist, yanking the man to his feet and almost topping Virgil off the couch.

Virgil panicked and tried to reach out to stop the disaster in progress, but he was too slow, and Patton was already being spun around the room in Roman’s arms as he continued to sing. He saw Logan jump to his feet as well, his book landing on the floor with a thump, but both of them paused when there was a laugh.

Patton was… giggling? Even Roman stopped spinning around to look at him in surprise. He continued to giggle for a few moments and then his face dropped, and his laughter turned to sobs.

“Oh god,” Roman said, horrified, stepping away from him with his hands raised. “I’m so sorry.”

Logan was across the room in an instant, pulling Patton into his arms as Patton full on started to wail.

“I’m sorry,” Roman repeated in a whisper.

“Don’t be,” Logan chocked, and Virgil knew why. It was because if there had been any doubts that there was something left of Patton alive in the form that had shambled around the house for the last couple of years, they were all wiped away the instant you looked at his face right now. Chin trembling and lips pulled taunt, he cried so hard he was shaking with it. Tears poured down his face and splattered on his hands still half raised from where Roman had been gripping them, and the way his breaths rasped was different than the sound of every rattling breath Virgil had ever heard from him. That was a person, 100%. And he knew what was happening at least in this moment. There was no doubt in Virgil’s mind.

“Hi Patton,” Logan said softly, his own tears quickly pooling in his eyes. He reached up to wipe away a few of the tears on Patton’s face. “It’s okay dear. Shh.” Patton reached for him, but not in the mindless way he always did. Instead of scraping against his cheeks again and again, he grabbed Logan’s face between his palms and pulled his head down, so their foreheads brushed together. “Oh, hello my love. Hello. Look at you!” He pressed a kiss to the corner of Patton’s eye and another to his cheek. Logan continued to murmur soft words and started to rock the man back and forth as both of them cried.

“Come on,” Virgil said to the other two who were starting at the scene in confusion. “We should probably give them some privacy.”

Remy pushed himself up to his feet and grabbed Roman’s wrist pulling him from the room into the kitchen.

They all stared at each other for a few minutes. “So…” Remy said. “Like, is he actually a zombie or what?”

Roman gave him a confused look.

“I honestly don’t even know anymore,” Virgil said.

Want to read more? The next part of the series is

One More Chance

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logicality #roman sanders #remy sanders #platonic moxiety #platonic analogical #platonic royality #zombie au #patton is a zombie #italop #adriana writes

[griffins-fanfic]

Lovesick

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: Prinxiety, Logicality

Word Count: 1855

Logan had planned to spend the night with music, tea, and the stack of library books he had recently acquired, but the universe had other plans for him. Thirty pages into his book, his roommate came into the living room and flopped dramatically onto his lap. Virgil screamed for a good forty-five seconds into Logan’s thighs.

    “I presume that you saw the show?” Roman had invited them to see in a production of some community show he was in, but Logan found that musicals tended to trigger his sensory issues, so he respectfully declined.

    “He has absolutely no right to be that pretty. How is that fair?” Virgil groaned. “How could he do this to me?”

    “I picked up a couple books you might enjoy, would you like to read one of them?” Logan wasn’t sure whether he wanted the distraction, but he thought he should try. Hopefully Virgil wouldn’t talk his ear off for an hour again.

    “I know you avoid those meet and greets like the plague, but there really is another energy to them. I went to go congratulate him afterwards, and I could think about nothing more than how much I wanted to kiss him. Then I gave him the flowers I bought him. I bought him flowers, Logan, Flowers! Why did I do that? What if he thinks that’s weird.”

    “Flowers are the traditional thing to give performers after the show. It started in the 1930s with dancers, and it signifies praise at a person’s performance. The exchange of flowers can be considered perfectly platonic, and Roman is most likely too busy enjoying the validation he got from it to think of it as anything weird. Did you enjoy it?”

    “The cast was good, but he was truly the shining star. He commanded the stage every time he was on it, which was a lot of the time. I was in the second row and I could see how alive his face was, he was having so much fun. He’s so, argh!, it’s frustrating how lovable he is.”

    Logan sighed. “You know-”

    Virgil interrupted him by shoving his hand in Logan’s face. “Pulse.” Logan took his pulse, counting it along with the clock on the wall. It was high.

    “I know what you want to say, but you know as well as I do that I could never do that. Remember, I’ve tried. It didn’t go well.” That was an exhausting day. Logan had to deal with mid-panic attack Virgil in his room at 2 am. But this endless pining was starting to grate on his nerves.

    “Have you tried texting him?”

    “Confessing my feelings over text? To Roman?” He’d never accept that.”

    “A letter? I’m sure his hopeless romantic heart would adore it.”

    “I can never find wording good enough. My feelings are too much to put into words adequately.”

    “So you’re just going to talk my ear off for eternity while I’m trying to read? You need to get over yourself and tell him. I’m telling you that whatever horrible thing you think is going to happen will never transpire. The worst case scenario is a small period of awkwardness until you two deal with it. Roman adores you too much to do the big, dramatic rejection you’re imagining.”

    Virgil mumbled something into his lap that sounded suspiciously like “hypocrite” before he rolled over. “I’ll take one of those books.”

    Logan managed to enjoy the rest of his night with his book, just with the added element of his roommate in his lap

~~~

Logan was pining hard, and it nearly made Virgil cringe. He recognized the change in Logan’s demeanor anytime Patton entered the room. The look in his eyes whenever Patton smiled. The sigh he let out whenever he got a text. It was real pathetic, but he couldn’t comment on it without Logan giving him that look. The look of “you’re one to talk.”

    During a weekly movie night, He got fed up. He had been assigned snack duty with Roman, so he brought it up while they were in the kitchen.

    “We need to deal with Logan.” He said, startling Roman, who had been reaching for the pretzels.

    “What are you talking about?” Roman asked,

    “You know exactly what I’m talking about. His pining is too pathetic, it’s disgusting.”

    “Well I think it’s quite sweet. There’s something magical about the crush stage of a relationship.”

    “Yeah, well, it was cute for the first six months. I’m sure it’ll be even cuter when they grow a pair and actually start dating.”

    Roman scoffed. “You have no romanticism. You probably haven’t even been in love before!”

    Virgil held back the half sob, half laugh that was bubbling up. He had no idea. Instead he sighed, and hopped up to sit on the counter. “Look, can we get back to the task at hand?”

    “I’ve got some piping hot tea for you. Patton definitely reciprocates.”

    Virgil gasped dramatically and put his hand over his mouth. “Shock and awe! I had no idea! Normally I’d say let them work it out on their own, I wouldn’t want people meddling in my own relationships, but if I have to deal with one more lovesick sigh whenever Logan sees a photo of him on Facebook, I’m going to freak.”

    Roman pulled the popcorn out of the microwave. “Ok, I have a plan that might work.” He leaned in to whisper it into Virgil’s ear.

~~~

Logan was going to die. There was all this room on the couch and Patton had chosen to lean up against him. Patton was a naturally tactile person, anyone who knew him even vaguely was aware of that, but he had no idea what he was doing to Logan.

    His heart was beating indescribably fast, and a little part of his brain was convinced that Patton could hear it, even if the idea was absurd. He was leaning against his shoulder, not his chest.

    Virgil came into the room with Patton’s biggest bowl filled with popcorn. He, respectively, sat at the other end of the couch. Patton sat up a little bit, but was still a little close for comfort, even though most of Logan was enjoying it.

    “Where’s Roman?” Patton asked, and Logan’s heart fluttered. His voice was so soft and caring,

    “He had to take a phone call, he’ll be back soon. Did y’all decide on a movie yet?”

    “The first Harry Potter movie! Logan hasn’t seen it yet, somehow.”

    “You know I find fantasy a little too dreamy for my tastes. I did read the books in high school, but I never cared to watch the movies.”

    Roman rushed into the room. “My apologies, but I’m afraid I’m needed elsewhere. Remy just called me in a panic. Apparently he’s getting proposed to tonight and needs my help on choosing his outfit.” He then checked his phone, pretending to get a text. “And he’s requesting Virgil’s help with makeup.”

    Patton sat up fully then, and Logan was both relieved and disappointed. He missed the warmth. “Oh dear. We can postpone the movie till tomorrow night.”

    “NO!” Roman shouted, way too enthusiastic.

    The room was stunned into silence before Virgil saved it. “Everything’s all prepared, it would be a shame for us to waste it. Besides, Roman and I have seen the movie a hundred times. You two enjoy yourself, we will go help him.”

    They rushed out the door, leaving the two alone. Logan resented them for it.

    As soon as the door closed behind them, Patton started shoveling popcorn into his mouth. “Well, that was the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”

    “Wh-what?” Logan asked.

    “It was obviously just a ploy to get us alone. Remy would never ask for anyone else’s fashion advice, even Roman’s.”

    “Why would they do that.” Logan knew full well why, but he wanted to see what Patton thought.

    “Well, because I’m in love with you, silly. I could hear them scheming in the kitchen.” Logan had been too busy screaming internally to pay attention to them while they were getting snacks and-wait, what did he just say?

    “What did you just say?”

    Logan watched as Patton processed the gravity of the words he had just said. “I mean, uh, I, well. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drop a bombshell like that so casually. It’s perfectly fine if you don’t feel the same, if fact, it’s truly understandable. I mean, I don’t know why I thought you would feel the same in the first place. It’s just a silly little crush.”

    “Patton.” Logan tried to cut him off, but he kept rambling.

    “And I wouldn’t even be offended I was just being dumb-”

    Logan took Patton’s face in his hands. “Can I kiss you?”

    This time Patton was the one that was speechless. “Huh?”

    “Can. I. Kiss. You?”

    “Uhm, yes.”

    And so he did. And he had no idea why in the world he waited so long. No fireworks exploded, no intertwining of souls. But it was soft, and gentle, and was the best thing Logan had ever experienced, and he once solved a Rubik’s Cube in thirty seconds.

    They did get through the movie, but Logan spent a lot of it staring at the man he was cuddling, incredulous.

~~~

Roman and Virgil had found themselves in the park after their escape. It was dark out, so there were no kids on the playground. Virgil was hanging upside down from the monkey bars while Roman paced back and forth in front of him, ranting about story idea that had nestled itself into his mind.

    “So the dragon witch is like ‘roar! No man can save the maiden!’ then the knight goes all Eowyn like ‘I am no man!’ and the maiden and the cook live happily ever after!”

    Virgil did his best to shrug while upside down. “Could be gayer.” The phrase had become a sort of inside joke between the two of them.

    Roman muttered angrily. “Could be-it’s already real gay! It’s lesbian fantasy!”

    “Could be gayer.”

    Roman only scoffed and picked up his pacing again. Virgil loved watching him while he was in the zone, it was one of the only times he could openly stare without getting caught.

    “I love you.” He muttered, then panicked when Roman stopped. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, much less loud enough that he could hear it. “I mean, uh,” That’s when he fell off the monkey bars.

    “By the beard of Zeus! Virgil, are you okay?”

    Virgil stood up and dusted himself off. “I’m fine, just a small scrape on my palm.” Virgil hoped the fall would distract Roman from his confession.

    “We should go get that cleaned up.” Roman paused. “But before that.”

    Virgil wondered what he was going to do, then he found himself being kissed. Ah, he was going to do that. The kiss was short, but passionate, and both were gasping when they pulled away.

    “How was that?” Roman asked.

    Virgil just shrugged, small smile dancing across his face. “Could be gayer.” Roman shoved him away before Virgil pulled him back for another.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #prinxiety #logicality #my writing

[honestgrins]

KC: You're a pro figure skater and I'm taking my child/nephew/cousin for a fun session and you're just finishing up as I arrive and dear lord you’re hot

I’m so sorry this has taken so (so, SO) long, it’s gone through about six or seven major attempts to get it right. Unfortunately, I still don’t think I’ve nailed it. But I finished…something…so I’m calling it. I wish I could do your lovely prompt more justice, @nemesis729, you’re always so kind to inspire me in the best ways. For what it is, I hope you enjoy it, and please wish me better luck with the gift exchange.

Oh, and the next chapter of Delivered. Whoops.

Icy Hot || Klaroline

She’s pleasantly warm and comfy when her phone rings, and it takes everything in Caroline not to ignore it and burrow more deeply into the covers. Recognizing Kat’s ringtone, though, she snakes a hand out toward the annoying device. Her irritation at leaving her nest is only made worse by the fact her roommate was apparently too lazy to just knock on her door. But it’s not until her knuckles rap on the cold metal of an unfamiliar nightstand that she remembers - she’s not in her own bed.

Her eyes pop open as she clutches the fluffy white comforter to her naked chest. Caroline cranes her neck to peek at the similarly naked man grumbling in his sleep next to her. The memories are slow in catching up with her, but the deep pink lips are an excellent reminder of what had been an immensely satisfying night.

Klaus. His name was Klaus.

The wedding from hell had lasted an hour longer than Caroline’s immaculate schedule accommodated for, and she earned a stronger drink from the hotel bar, far away from demanding brides and their brand new mothers-in-law. Meeting a charming stranger made her relief all the sweeter, especially when he offered a more physical stress release. One night stands weren’t her favorite, but Klaus proved to be worth the deviation from her post-work routine.

Caroline silences her phone, figuring she could call Kat during her cab ride of shame. Looking around the opulent suite, she carefully edges out of bed to locate her clothes, discarded so carelessly the night before. Her nose wrinkles at the pile of fabric that used to be a pristine sheath dress, but at least her shoes are neatly gathered right next to it. The purse takes a little more digging, hidden underneath Klaus’s shirt she remembered tossing onto the dresser.

Glancing back to the bed, she chews her bottom lip, uncertain. Already late for work, she really didn’t have time for a proper goodbye - if he even wanted one. The uncertainty of one night stands was a terror for her habit of overthinking, so Caroline forces herself to make a quick decision. She pops one of her business cards from the clutch, grateful she carries them to all the weddings she plans. Scribbling her cell number along her name, she adds a quick note to the back, “This was fun, call me if you’re ever back in town.”

There, no harm done and ball squarely in his court. He had said he was in New York on business, and Caroline could get used to having a part-time fling. Shimmying into her clothes, she half heartedly fluffs her hair into a serviceable look until she could take a shower back at home. With a final glance over her shoulder, she slips out of the room, leaving Klaus to sleep in.

Her phone is already ringing before she can tell the cabbie her address, and she answers with a huff, “I’m on my way home, Kat.”

“Funny, I thought that was what you said last night,” Katherine drawls, unmoved by her friend’s irritation. “Then I’m waking up to a text from you that you met someone in the bar, without an accompanying photo in case you went missing.”

Caroline winces. It wasn’t like her to lapse on their safety protocol, well established since their college years. Still, she has been pretty distracted even sending that text while Klaus’s lips dragged down her neck in the elevator. “I at least sent the room number?”

“I’m just saying, he better have been hot.” Never let it be said that Katherine Pierce didn’t have her priorities in order. “But since you missed out on morning routine, I figured I should remind you that you’re on pickup duty today.”

Katherine was rocking the fierce lawyer/single mom combo, but as best friend, roommate and honorary aunt, Caroline did her best to help out where she could. It was usually easier for her to get away, given her more flexible work schedule during the day. Frowning, she pulls out her phone to check her calendar. Her brain had yet to catch up to real life; she was sure a part of it was still cozy in bed with Klaus. “Um, school or ballet?”

Amused at her uncharacteristic disorganization, Katherine snorts, “Four o'clock at the ice rink, her skating lesson was moved this week for-”

“-The Olympic exhibition, right,” Caroline finally remembers. “Sorry, you know I don’t function well when I’m running late.”

“Whatever, the agency will survive if you take the morning off, especially if half of what you told me about last night’s bride is true. Who even plans a Wednesday wedding?”

Her shoulders lift with a deep sigh. “Rich people who don’t have to get to work on Thursdays. Unfortunately, I’m not one of them.”

Kat’s tone is commiserating when she answers, “Then go to work, just please don’t forget to bring Nadia home from the rink. I’d hate for you to run into another hot guy and get distracted all over again.”

Laughing, Caroline smiles against the window, looking up at the hotel. “Don’t worry, I don’t think my luck is that good. Tell Nadia I’ll see her this afternoon.”

The cab lurches forward as she hangs up, and she feels oddly energized for the day. Caroline almost enjoys the thrum of anticipation under her skin. Maybe Klaus would call before he left town, just so she could finish off her week in a similarly good mood.

After work, Caroline makes her way to the sports complex where Nadia takes her skating lessons. Letting herself into the building, she shivers at the sudden chill in the air. The ice rink echoes with the scrape of skates and parents chatting.

Caroline settles onto the bleachers, quickly finding Nadia among the seven-year-olds watching their coach demonstrate a spin skill. The little girl waves, her curly ponytail bouncing excitedly behind her until she waves back. As the kids break apart to practice their own spins, she’s amazed to see how confident Nadia is on the ice. Cheerleading and gymnastics experience aside, Caroline’s agility and athleticism never had the added complication of blades strapped to her feet.

More impressive, though, was a man skating at the other end of the rink. Dressed in a sleek, black outfit, he effortlessly glided through a complicated routine. Loops, spins, jumps - each punctuated with a ripple of gasps from the kids and adults alike. Caroline assumes him to be the visiting pro skater, just keeping his muscles warm to show off for the next group. There was something familiar to the way he moved, but she could never get a clear read of his face to see if she recognized him from the last Olympics.

The coach clapped, gathering the kids together to end the lesson. In unison, they all cheer, “Thanks, Mister Mikaelson!” The man abruptly stops to give them a final nod, and the class is dismissed. Scattering off the ice toward the bleachers, they hobble toward their respective guardians.

Nadia grins as she scrambles over to Caroline. “Did you see? I got to skate with Klaus Mikaelson!”

“I did see,” Caroline answers, awareness slow to click in her head when the Olympian skates closer to the edge of the rink. He’s chatting with a man in a suit on the other side of the barricade, but he must feel her eyes because he turns to face her. His own eyes widen, surely reflecting the shock in her expression.

It seemed she would be meeting her fling sooner than hoped.

“U-um,” her voice stutters as she quickly focuses back on Nadia, an odd embarrassment itching at her skin. “Are you ready to go?”

None the wiser to Caroline’s nerves, Nadia is slow to unlace her skates. “Almost. It was so cool, Aunt Caroline! We learned how to toe pick a spin, even though we’re not big enough to do it while moving yet.”

“Caroline?”

She jolts at the warmth of affection in his voice, closer than she expected. Looking up, she finds him leaning over the wall, watching her reaction with interest. “Hi. Um-”

“Aunt Caroline,” Nadia shakes her by the elbow, whispering her awe loudly enough for him to hear. “Klaus Mikaelson is talking to you.”

His mouth tightens like he’s trying not to laugh, and Caroline narrows her eyes into an admittedly amused glare. “Put your street clothes on,” she orders gently, moving off the bleachers to meet him at the edge of the rink.

Klaus gives into his smirk as she approaches. “This is a surprise.”

“I’ll say,” Caroline rolls her eyes. “I didn’t know you would be here. I didn’t know who you were, actually.”

Shrugging, he leans closer toward her. “What’s important is that we know each other now.” His eyebrow quirks with suggestion, but he laughs when she lightly nudges his shoulder. “I was pleased to find you left your number this morning.”

She glances down a moment, trying to ignore the growing heat of her cheeks. “Does that mean you were going to call me?”

Freshly dressed and exhausted from practice, Nadia suddenly appears at her side. “I’m hungry, Aunt Caroline.”

With an apologetic frown at Klaus, she pats Nadia’s head. “Okay, sweetie. Get your bag, we’ll pick up a pizza on our way home. Your mom’s working late, so we can even order pineapple.”

Nadia gives a triumphant cheer as she goes to grab her things, leaving Caroline to face Klaus’s admonishing look. “What?”

“Pineapple on a pizza? The Italians would have your head.”

“Come and get me, Mario, but it’s delicious.” Crossing her arms, she barely resists the urge to fidget. “You didn’t answer my question. Would you have used my card?”

A whistle blows as the next class starts, and Klaus seems to deflate. “I suppose you’ll have to find out.” He drops her a nod with a cocky wink. “Maybe next time, I could convince you to stay in bed.”

He glides backward, turning with a flourish to greet the new group of students, and Caroline can’t help the dumb smile that pulls at her lips. Looking to Nadia, she takes a deep breath to hopefully calm her blush. “You ready?”

They walk out of the rink, Nadia chatting happily as she swung their joined hands between them. Grinning into the sunshine, Caroline was feeling pretty good about her week’s prospects after all.

#klaroline drabbles #klaroline #nemesis729 #to rely on the kindness of strangers #asked and answered #thanks for the prompt! #you're a gem #I hope you like It! #my writing