#that one client I talked to on the phone who forgot about her issue and just told me how hard it was to lose her husband | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hotxcheeto · 2 years

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━ 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐀𝐖𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, alcohol consumption ( legal ), brief mention of needles ( tattooing ), ex's and awkwardness, fluff lmao

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - I hope you enjoy! I did forget about this for a while but it's back and I really do like this part more than the second!!!!! I'm in a better mental state right now and things have felt good, expect some OG works soon . . .

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☾ ONE NIGHT STAND MASTERLIST ☽

To say she felt different was a definitely a statement, and to say that each text message she sent felt like a love letter would be a bit dramatic.

But it was true, you explained to your cat. Poppy sitting pretty in the kitchen windowsill while you moved your hands around like a crazed woman each day something Ellie said would get you excited.

Ellie wasn't like the other girls you'd talked to, and she sure wasn't like Anya who still drunk texted you from time to time which you promptly ignored and then forgot about.

Focusing your energy elsewhere, elsewhere being Ellie and Poppy who did not care about you nor the girl you squealed about each day while practically hugging your phone.

And now the day came, the day you'd set up a real date with the practical stranger, hoping that you weren't psyching yourself up again all for it too fall through the floor like it usually did.

She was straight, or she was taken. She didn't want you or she wanted you so bad but wanted that other girl too.

It was always something, but this time was different. You could feel it.

"Finally." You heard her voice as you stepped up towards her table outside the restaurant, rolling your eyes playfully while hooking your purse on your chair. "Oh shut it, I already told you why I'm running behind."

You sat across from her, hearing her all too familiar chuckles.

"Yeah, yeah. Cat's are evil, I'm telling you." "You don't know Poppy, she's an old soul, she has attachment issues."

You felt like you had the first night you met her, butterflies tickling your insides while with each breath you felt the air escaping you. It was as if she was stealing it away.

"I forgive you.. this time." She shrugged, leaning back in the chair, her hands resting between her legs on her thighs. "I'd hate to have you mad at me.." You rested your head on your palm, crossing your legs in front of you as you met her darkened green eyes.

"..but I'd bet you'd love it. Especially finding ways to get rid of it." "If it was anything like the first time then yeah, and I wasn't even mad then." You felt yourself going hot, instead focusing away on a waiter walking up to the table with a notepad in hand, scribbling a number down.

"Decide what you guys want to drink?" "Coke." Ellie replied without tearing her eyes away from you, making you nervous under her stare.

"Um.. sorry I'll have a mimosa." "You got it." He stared at you for a second longer before walking off leaving you both to yourselves once more.

"How's work been?" You then asked, turning your head to face her once more while a lopsided smirk displayed itself on her lips. "Boring. Jesse's been getting all good clients."

"What do you get the valley girls wanting matching cherry tattoos? Or maybe the dicks that want their dicks done."

Ellie snorted messing with the fork on the table while shrugging.

"Something like that. What about you?" "It's been slow, since you payed me the little visit in my office." Your phone buzzed but you ignored it, continuing on. "Besides that... nothing much." "Oh c'mon, someone like you can't have that boring of a life."

You giggled with a shrug seeing from the corner of your eye a waiter walking towards your table, setting your drinks in front of you.

"I dunno, I've been focusing most of my time to a few certain people." You thanked the waiter, taking a drink of your beverage. "Decide what you want to eat?"

You knew that voice anywhere, glancing up to meet your ex's eyes, throwing an awkward smile on your face last minute. Swallowing harshly while you nodded.

"Yeah, actually. Right?" You turned to Ellie wanting to avoid Anya's face as much as possible while Ellie's eyes went a bit wide nodding, confused as hell it would've made you laugh if you weren't about to fall off your chair.

"Veggie burgers, for me." "Sounds like you, Y/n." You wanted to puke, sending her another sharp smile. "You guys know each other?" Ellie then questioned, biting her lip while Anya spoke for you.

"Yeah, funny enough–" "Long time ago, friends." You shrugged, Ellie again looking at you awkwardly while Anya glared you down.

Ellie said her order, glancing back to you every now and again. Your legs vibrating up and down while you stared straight ahead and prayed that she'd just go away already, and finally she did.

"Everything alright?" Ellie laughed a bit, keeping it light hearted while you nodded. "Yeah, all good over here. Just wasn't expecting to see her." You laughed. "But back onto you.. what do like to do besides go to lesbian bars?" Again Ellie laughed, taking a drink of her soda.

"I draw, obviously." She could've smacked herself in the face for that one, but you giggled getting a grin out of her. "I like to play.. the guitar?" "Is that a question or a statement?"

From the corner of your eye Anya stood at another table, but was looking over at you. Yet you refused to give her your eyes, nodding as Ellie continued.

"Statement. Shit, sorry.. just.." "You're fine. Did you not see me five minutes ago?" You chuckled, adjusting your dress before again resting your chin in your palm. "Yeah I play, my foster dad taught me." "Aw, that was sweet of him." "Yeah he's great. Joel's a good guy." "You still live with him?"

She shook her head, looking down at her hands while playing with them.

"No, he adopted me after a shit ton of shit," She laughed. "but I moved out last year."

You nodded with a hum, your eyes unintentionally glancing away seeing Anya once more at another table. But with her gaze set on you.

"He sounds amazing." You then said, turning back to her. "What about you?" She then changed the subject, leaning back once more.

You took a breath.

"They're alright." You shrugged. "Me and my mom don't really get along but for the most part they're pretty cool. I have a few siblings but that's about it." "Siblings?" You nodded, sipping your drink seeing Anya disappear into the restaurant.

"A sister and a brother. Both older and upstate. But we text and call each other all the time. It's like we're all teenagers still living in the rooms beside each other."

Ellie stuck her bottom lip out, humming. "I'm guessing you're an only child?" "That obvious?" "A little, just the personality gives it away, but only a little." You referenced it with your hand, hoving the pads of your fingers over each other.

"So it's just you and Poppy in the city?" "Yep." You said popping the 'p' with a grin. "She was gift, from my grandma before she passed. My grandma's favorite flower was Poppies, we agreed on the name together before.." "Maybe she really is an old soul."

Ellie winked while you gave her a soft smile, sitting up a bit at that.

"That's a sweet way to think about it. Do you have any pets?" "Not in my apartment. Joel has a dog though, he's old but he's awesome."

Anya then appeared at the table as if she teleported there, just as you were beginning to forget about it all, about her. Sinking back into Ellie's sweet voice that seemed to get excited at the idea of her old pet.

But thus it was interrupted by the she-devil herself.

"Here's your food." "Thanks." You replied sharply with not a care of your tone getting a glance from the girl across from you. "You're welcome Y/n/n." You stared forward at your plate, Ellie thanking her before she walked off.

"You sure she's an old friend?" "I'm not letting her ruin the date, eat and tell me about the dog." You snatched a fry from your plate, hearing Ellie laugh harder then she had the entire time you knew her.

"His name is Vegas." "Vegas?" You smiled. "Yeah, fits him. Trust me." "Will do, I'm guessing he's sweet though." "Very, has trouble getting up and down stairs though so Joel started sleeping on the couch. It's getting closer though.."

"Aw I'm sorry." She moved her shoulders. "Comes with life." "You've got quite the view on death, don't you?" "Just seen a some of it..." You nodded quietly, choosing your next few words. "If it helps.. so have I?"

Taking a few bites of your food, a comfortable silence around you both, allowing you to enjoy your food. Ellie watching you for a moment, deciding if she was going to bring it up, until she made her choice.

"She's not an old friend is she?" You took in a deep breath, opening your mouth but nothing came out. You could see the regret in Ellie's eyes from even asking the question, your phone buzzing once more.

"Hold that question for a sec." You smiled, trying to seem like you were as disheveled and uncomfortable as you were. Turning your screen on to see a few messages from the waitress herself, asking if it was you and who is she. The last being a teasing message poking fun at your taste in women.

"She's an ex. That's all." You said, practically shoving the phone into your back and turning to your alcoholic drink, avoiding Ellie's stare the entire time. "Not a fun one either, so no we are far from friends. But please, just let's get back to you or me. Anything but her."

Ellie wasn't sure though, awkwardly moving her jaw around while trying to push down her unsure feelings. She liked, she did, but your mind was far from her now.

"You alright?" Ellie forced herself to ask, feeling your leg bouncing up and down at your nervous picking at your nails. "Fine, I'm fine. Do you write songs?" "Sometimes. When I'm bored enough, or have good inspiration." You continued to eat while she talked, nodding to her words.

"You should come in for a tattoo." "Trust me I'd love to see you in your element, because fuck that just sounds hot," You smirked, seeing a little blush appear on her freckled cheeks while she looked away, "but a little needle being on my skin for more than a few seconds, yeah I'm opting out for now."

"Well, if you work up the courage." "You'll be the first I call. Have you thought about extending your career with art?" Ellie thought for a second, looking past you, eyes then shooting back to yours. "No, no probably not but when I was a kid I wanted to be an astronaut."

She smiled when you began to laugh, then deciding to cover your mouth.

"Sorry, that's adorable, reminds me of my brother. Would you ever go down that path?" "Maybe not now," She shook her head, matching your giggles, "but who knows, right?" "I wanted to be a writer as a kid, still now, working on my book and then the firm. I guess it was always meant to be."

"Guess so, I'd like to read some of that writing." "Hm, well you're making a great case for yourself. None of my friends are allowed too, but your... different?" "Is that so–"

"Would you like the check?"

You could've jumped, and Ellie nearly did, looking to your side as Anya gave you the fakest expression she could probably have mustered in that moment. And you've seen the girl be fake before.

"I guess?" Ellie said quietly looking at you while trying not to break out in laughter, but you were completely frozen, staring down at the table again.

"Alright, be back babe. Sorry, I mean Y/n." Anya snickered, like it was some sort of bad joke her date made and she wanted to pretend she liked them until it was over. "Yeah."

"You know, the food isn't bad here. The staff is terrible though." "I agree." You then spoke softly, trying to pull a happy face when you let her suck you back in. "Maybe next time we stick to an apartment?"

She could tell you perked up at the idea of a 'next time', a genuine beam of energy coming out when you spoke again.

"Poppy would love to meet you? Besides, maybe you can see more than just my bedroom?" "Don't hate the idea. But I did clean recently."

Her eyes then moved behind you once more, a nervous expression crossing her face and flooding her eyes.

"Everything alright?" You grabbed her hand, running your thumb along it gaining her attention before it hit you and you pulled away. "Sorry." "No you're fine.. fuck." She whispered under her breath, rubbing her fingers along her lips.

"What's your favorite season?" She could've replayed the way your face changed a million times over, like a confused puppy before you piped up once more.

"Winter, or fall, I do really like fall. Fires and hot chocolate. Cuddling. It's perfect." You shrugged excitedly, "yours?" "Fall, same reasons too." Her eyes went right passed you once more before Anya again teleported beside the table with the check in hand.

"Here–" Ellie took it from her and pulled her wallet out from her pocket. "Hey wait, we can split." "I got it, don't worry about it." "Ellie!" She smirked at you before shoving her card in the pocket of the check and signing the receipt.

"I said it's fine." She handed it back to Anya who couldn't help but glare at the woman across from you. "Besides, makes up for the terrible service." Anya stood there, almost stupidly while watching Elie hand her back the little black book, your ex walking off without another word.

"Thank you.. for the great date and for paying." "Eh, had to make it up for the shitty surprise you got."

Then, once more, she looked behind you, finally getting you to turn around.

"Hey, what about color?" But you didn't answer, seeing a woman sitting at the table with a familiar face. The girl who'd come to your office with Ellie, and a few others at a table.

But the woman wasn't looking at them, she was now looking at you after she'd been looking at Ellie.

"Pink, or brown. I like off-white too though." You then replied, turning back to her. "And you?" "Green." You began grabbing your bag, placing it on your shoulder while you both stood up awkwardly from the table.

"You want me to walk you home?" You grinned at her, nodding a bit. "If you'd like? And wouldn't mind?" "Shit, farthest from minding at this point." Ellie went to take your hand though it wasn't long lasting.

"So–" "Ellie!" The girl you'd made eye contact with earlier skipped over, brushing passed you in order to hug your date. Ellie seeming taken aback and a bit uncomfortable at the interaction.

"Hey Cat." She gritted her teeth and hugged her back, looking at you standing there trying not to look at them both for too long. Not wanting to seem invasive despite it being your date with her.

"I thought it was you! I wasn't sure though.. it was hard to see you.." She glanced at you yet didn't even care to introduce herself nor decide to turn to you at all. "Here's your card." Anya returned getting your attention while Ellie was handed back her card.

"I'll talk to you later Y/n/n." "What?" Ellie went to talk to you only for Cat to grab her arm, looking at you. "You're the girl Dina was talking about! Shit this is a date, isn't it?" Cat questioned, tilting her head like she was taunting you, but you weren't sure if she meant it that way.

"Sorry, I'm Cat, Ellie's ex-girlfriend. You've gotta be Y/n." "Yeah, actually. Nice to meet you–" "Awesome!" She then turned back to Ellie. "Come sit with us after you're done here."

You shifted uncomfortably, crossing your arms while looking to your date.

"Actually Cat–" "I've gotta go anyway, Poppy's waiting on me back home and besides, they're your friends." You gave her a reassuring smile before grabbing her upper arms and kissing her cheek.

"Just text me later, okay?" "Yeah sure, are you sure though?" Cat seemingly scoffed trying to pull her off towards the table.

"She doesn't need a knight in dull armor Ellie, she's got it." You laughed at the joke, giving Ellie a reassuring squeeze.

"All good, but I'm expecting a good conversation later." "Yeah, yeah of course."

And with that you walked off, hugging your arms as your dress blew in the wind. Your stomach finally dropping at the terrible date that had just took its course and for once you both shared a though.

That was awful. She thought.

"That was awful." You whispered

#ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams #tlou 2 #tlou x reader #tlou #tlou part 2 #the last of us part 2 #the last of us #nevy writes

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skulduggery-pleasant-bp9 · 7 months

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Playing with a Coroner and a Detective is not wise - Skulduggery x Male!Reader Universe

WARNING!: Anger issued Reader, cursing, threatening, mild violence, Fergus x Beryl (They are really people responsible for snger issues) AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !

Part 1 - Gordon’s Testament

Gordon was dead and the Edgley Family was with Gordon’s lawyer, to hear who inherited what. Fergus, Beryl, Carol and Crystal were VERY impatient, while they had to wait for two more people.

“Can’t we just start without them already ?!”, Beryl demanded like a spoiled brat.

“No, we have to wait for the last two people.”, Mr. Fedgewick answered nervously.

Then a man, face completely covered in a scarf, hat and sunglasses, entered.

“I apologize for my lateness, it really didn’t get sooner.”, the man excused himself.

“You are ?”, Fergus asked with annoyance.

“Skulduggery Pleasant.”, the covered man answered.

Beryl scoffed and looked at Melissa and Desmond.

“Of course YOUR brat will be late ! At such an important day he HAS to be late !”, she yelled.

“Don’t talk about my Brother like that.”, Stephanie defended.

Then Melissa’s phone rang and she sighed in relief as she saw her Son’s name appear. She answered and put him on speaker.

“Hello, Son. Where are you ?”, she asked worried.

“Hey Mom ! I am so sorry ! I forgot to bring something to my workplace and had to go there to turn it in, because it was due for today. Then I wanted to drive straight to Mr. Fedgewick’s and meet you all there, but I am stuck in traffic. A car accident happened and I am stuck in here. I will need another 10 to 15 minutes to get out of here. Do you think you can wait that long ? Otherwise I am fine with you all hearing Uncle’s Will without me. It will be saddening that I am not there, but this was really unexpected and I am unsure how long Mr. Fedgewick will have time. He probably has other clients too...”, a teenage boy’s voice explained.

Before Beryl and Fergus could snarl at Fedgewick, to read the Will already, Stephanie replied.

“We can wait. This reading means a lot to you and you are Family too.”

Melissa nodded and smiled at her, while Stephanie’s Aunt and Uncle scoffed in hatred.

“She is right, Son. Just be careful and don’t drive too fast, yes ?”, Melissa said worried.

“I will be careful, Mom. I will be there soon. I am really sorry, that I am so late today. Usually I am always the first one to arrive and this is just embarrassing...”

“It could have happened to anyone, Son. Don’t sweat it. I stuck a lot in traffic and came late to work and meetings. No one was ever mad at me for it.”, Desmond replied happily.

The boy chuckled.

“Thanks, Dad. I love you two, see you soon. And Steph...when I arrive there, you better give me back my SD card.”

Stephanie chuckled.

“I have it in my bag.”

“Good.”

With that they hung up and waited a bit more.

-Twenty minutes later-

He cursed as he ran through the corridors and to the office. Why had this to happen to him at this day ?! Got he could beat himself up about this right now ! He soon arrived at the door and knocked gently.

“Come in !”, Fedgewick’s voice called.

He opened the door and breathed heavily, then entered and closed the door, taking off his coat.

“I am so very sorry that I am late. Traffic was a nightmare. The police gave my side two minutes to pass, while the other got ten. The traffic lights were broken and there was a nasty car accident, so police had to deal with it. Did I miss anything important already ?”, the Teenager asked.

“Are you M/n Edgley ?”, Fedgewick asked.

“Yes, that is me. Do you need my ID ? I have brought it with me, in case.”, M/n replied.

Fedgewick nodded and M/n quickly got out his purse and pulled out his ID card. He gave it to Fedgewick and he checked it over, after that he nodded and gave it back to him.

“Well then, FINALLY we can start.”, Beryl replied pissed and glared at M/n.

M/n scoffed as he sat down.

“Shut it, woman, you are the most disrespectful person here. If I were you, I would be praying that I even got something from my Brother in law. For your personality, I wouldn’t be surprised if he would only give you a boot to the head.”, he replied to her comment.

“You little shit ! Respect your elders !”, she yelled.

“You are older than me ? Then fucking act like it. All I see is a spoiled little brat that is a five year old. You aren’t older than me.”, he scoffed.

“Why YOU-?!”

“Anyways. Now that I am here, let us start, yes ? I still have so much paperwork to do...”, M/n said slightly saddened and rudely interrupting Beryl.

Just then he spotted Skulduggery Pleasant and he gave the person a smile.

“I think we haven’t met before. My apologies, that I didn’t notice you, Sir. My name is M/n Edgley. What is yours, if I may ?”

“It is nice to meet you Mr. Edgley. My name is Skulduggery Pleasant.”, the man covered in a scarf, sunglasses and had said, nodding his head in respect.

“Ah, Uncle talked a bit about you. His best friend, as much, as I recall. Nice to finally see you in person. I was worried that Gordon was messing with me at this point, given I never saw you around.”

The man chuckled.

“I was pretty busy, but came to visit often.”, he replied.

“Ah, that explains it. The job must be pretty serious then, otherwise you would have a lot of time. Every job is different after all.”, M/n said smiling.

Skulduggery nodded.

“He is a weirdo. Who covers their face like this ?”, Fergus scoffed in disgust.

M/n’s smile fell and it turned into an annoyed glare.

“Believe it or not, Mr. Snotty 24/7, there are people that are VERY insecure about their looks and rather hide them. From where would YOU know, what this Gentleman went through, huh ? Maybe he had a terrible accident and his face got it worst or he was attacked once and barely made it out alive or he was born a bit weird looking, that he started to hate it. Who the flying FUCK are YOU, to judge people that hide their face, hmm ?”, M/n snarled back in disrespect, getting fed up with his and his Wife’s attitude.

“You little-!”

“Now then, I deeply apologize for these Crack heads. Can we start ? I fear if I stay any longer with them in here, I will start a scene. I never got along with these people.”, M/n asked kindly and rudely interrupted Fergus.

Stephanie smiled in amusement and Fedgewick chuckled slightly.

“You are almost like Gordon was. Honest and still humorous.”, the lawyer said.

“What can I say ? I take more after him. I liked the way he was as a person and looked slightly up to him. Thanks to him, I am the person I am today.”, M/n said happily.

Stephanie, her parents and Fedgewick smiled at that, while the other half of the Edgley Family glared at him. Then Fedgewick started to give them all his condolences, with Baryl interrupted rudely, wanting to cut straight to the chase, which made M/n lose his smile yet again. He turned to her.

“Shut the fuck up, will you ? Here are people that cared about Gordon. Just because you don’t, doesn’t that mean, that you can tell anyone what to do. If you don’t wanna hear it, then get the fuck out. No one wants to hear your snotty, bratty attitude.”

“How about you learn manners ?!”, Fergus yelled.

“How about you look in a mirror and take your own advice, Fergus ? You, your Wife and your children are all VERY disrespectful. So shut the fuck up and if you don’t like it, get the fuck out. No one wants to hear you, you Gold diggers.”, M/n snarled back in hatred.

“You little adopted shit !”, Carol yelled.

M/n glared at her.

“You, better bake VERY little buns right now, you little Bitch. Get involved again and I might make you shut up in a way you won’t like.”, he threatened darkly.

“Is that a threat towards my daughter ?!”, Beryl yelled.

“Yes, it is ! You all apparently didn’t learn any manners as children, so I might as well, smack her across the face if she keeps it up ! You two grown up idiots can’t even raise your own kids properly !”, M/n hollered.

Stephanie got up and went over to her older, adopted, Brother. She pulled him into a hug, while he continued to glare at the wedded couple with hatred and disgust.

“Calm down, M/n... They aren’t worth it.”, she tried to calm him down.

“I can’t do this anymore, Stephanie ! Everywhere we go or show up with them, they are like this ! They treat everyone like utter shit and think they are the most perfect people ever ! I am sick and tired of it ! All they do is embarrass us ! God, every time we go somewhere with these people, I am in second hand embarrassment ! I have to pretend that I don’t even KNOW them, with their disgusting attitude ! I’m sick and tired of it !”

At that everyone was dead silent. M/n was pissed off and that rightfully.

“I HATE them ! All they do is care about themselves ! They never cared about Uncle Gordon and now they demand to get something from him ?! I hope they get close to nothing from him !”, he yelled.

Stephanie hugged M/n tighter and he hugged back, tears coming to his eyes. No one could tell if it was from rage or sadness, but it, none the less, made everyone go silent at once, while Stephanie was there for him.

After a while, she parted and pulled her chair next to him, so she was close, in case he had another rage episode. M/n was always short tempered and quick to rage when Fergus and Beryl were around with their kids. It wasn’t always like that, but one day, they were just toxic to each other and M/n wanted nothing to do with them since, only if necessary, did he spend time with them. And with necessary, it meant when Melissa forced him to stay and spend time with the whole Family.

“Excuse me...please continue.”, M/n got out with a quiet voice.

He was still calming down, but Fedgewick nodded and started with opening the Testament. Again giving his condolences and everything, this time, no one interrupted him, in fear M/n will lash out again.

Skulduggery kept a close eye on M/n. The Teenager seemed to be between 15 and 18 years of age and he seemed very sad.

Then Fedgewick read out what Beryl and Fergus got.

His Car, boat and a little present. As they asked what the present was, in excitement, he opened a small box and in it laid a brooch. It looked old, but M/n, none the less, smirked.

Gordon’s car wasn’t worth much to sell, the brooch was old and pretty, but not much worth and then the boat. It was a small one and also not worth much, because it was old and needed some work to look better.

M/n would have laughed, if he wouldn’t feel so incredibly sad at the same time. His Uncle was dead. He always brightened up his day after work, always knew what to do with him...He was the best and he left. Why couldn’t someone from Fergus’ side have died ? They were always rude and mean...and they only cared about the money Gordon made anyways. They didn’t like M/n either and they never helped, nor supported him, in anything he did.

It was unfair !

After that, they tried to know what else they got, but that was all, which made Beryl wail. M/n scoffed and stared at her with darkness in his eyes.

“Kindly get out of the room and cry. As many say in my workplace ‘Cry silently, Chantalle.’”, M/n scoffed. (In my school we knew that term, please don’t take it as offense, whoever knows a Chantalle ! We just had that saying !)

Fedgewick then looked at Skulduggery Pleasant and read out a small text that Gordon wrote down. He left the man only an advice.

“Your path is yours alone and I don't want to dissuade you, but sometimes we find the greatest enemy within ourselves and fight the greatest battles against the darkness within. A storm is coming and sometimes the key to safe harbor remains hidden from us. Sometimes, however, it is right in front of our eyes.”

Everyone stared at Skulduggery with wide eyes, besides M/n. He was very interested in that advice. It sounded more like a riddle he had to solve. M/n got out his phone, opened Word and then wrote the whole thing down quickly. He will figure this out ! His Uncle was very cryptic, but he knew for a fact that this was a riddle. He will solve it !

Stephanie looked at her older Brother and saw that he typed it all down quickly. So he thought it was important and a riddle to solve. She knew, from the moment this stranger entered the office, that there was something about him. Something mysterious and dangerous.

M/n stuffed his phone back into his pocket as he finished and waited for the rest to snap out of their momentum. Skulduggery only nodded silently. Fergus then told his Wife that they were at least lucky enough to get the few things Gordon had, instead of some stupid advice. She just hissed at him to be silent, which made him cower away.

“He is right, be grateful, Beryl. And you know what the best part is ? This Gentleman is taking it with dignity and respect. Just an advice and yet, he accepts this and doesn’t whine about it. I understand why he liked you, Mr. Pleasant.”, M/n said smiling.

Skulduggery chuckled softly and nodded.

“Thank you. His advices are greatly appreciated. I need them a lot.”, he replied.

M/n smiled.

“My Uncle was cool in that way, aren’t I right ? He helped me with these a lot too.”

“Hah ! A Team member then, huh ?”, he asked jokingly.

“Seems so.”, M/n chuckled.

Then Melissa and Desmond had their turn. He joked about leaving Desmond his Wife, that he successfully took away from Gordon. Of course it was a joke. They were saddened a bit and then Fedgewick read out that Desmond also inherited his Villa in France.

Beryl made a scene at that, while Fergus wanted her to stop her tantrum. She went on about how much worth it is and it made M/n’s blood boil.

“Fergus, put her on a leash, before I snap and slap her so hard that she will see starts, pass out and wake up in a hospital.”, M/n growled out pissed.

Fergus grew worried. M/n never threatened to hurt Beryl.

“Beryl, please calm down...”

“NO !”

M/n snapped up and stalked towards her.

“You shut your ugly trap right now ! Otherwise you won’t like the outcome, Bitch ! I warned you multiple times that I am VERY close to snap at you ! Sit your fat ass down and shut it !”, M/n screamed.

“You are my Nephew ! You have to RESPECT ME YO-!”

SLAP !

The whole room was dead silent and Beryl looked at her left, eyes wide in shock, while her right cheek formed a red handprint. M/n glared at her, his hand still in position to give her a backhand slap too. M/n looked livid.

“I. Said. SHUT THE FUCK UP AND SIT YOUR ASS DOWN, BITCH !”, M/n screamed at her pissed off.

She whimpered and sat down instantly, tears in her eyes.

“Just WHY do we have to deal with people like YOU, Beryl ?! My GOD are you ANNOYING and OBSESSED with showing off and money ! No wonder Uncle Gordon didn’t want you to have anything too expensive ! Such an ungrateful woman like you, I have NEVER met in my LIFE !”, M/n raged.

Stephanie quickly pulled him to his chair and hugged him tightly again. She was his anchor, when he let his rage consume him.

“DON’T mess with my Family, Bitch ! They deserved the Villa, because they CARED about Gordon as a PERSON, not some fucking PAYCHECK !”

“We are Family too, M/n.”, Fergus said softly.

“NO YOU ARE NOT ! I WILL NEVER ACCEPT YOU AS A PART OF MY FAMILY ! ALL YOU EVER DID WAS HATE UNCLE GORDON ! YOU !!! HIS OWN FUCKING BROTHER !! GO TO HELL, FERGUS !”, M/n yelled in rage and pure hatred.

He looked away, scared for his life.

“M/n, Brother, remember what the psychologist said a few years ago, yeah ? Don’t let your rage consume you. Take deep breaths. Relax. No one is hurt. We are all fine. Remember what Uncle Gordon said, yes ?”, she whispered into his ear.

M/n’s rage was gone in a flash as she mentioned Gordon. His eyes went wide and then he hugged her back, tears again in his eyes.

“S-sorry, Steph...”, he muttered out.

“It’s okay. Just stay calm, okay ? No one is hurt and we won’t have to endure them that long anymore, okay ? After this testament is over, we can leave and have some bobba tea, okay ?”

He nodded with a small smile and sat down again, this time Stephanie sat on his lap, to keep him grounded.

“Is he always like this ? No judgment, just curious.”, Skulduggery asked softly.

Melissa and Desmond looked at him worried, while Stephanie felt like she had to answer him.

“Only if someone hurts us, threatens us or if Beryl and Fergus are around him with their kids. He is very overprotective of Family and he hates people that see his Family as an object, they can use. So he gets pissed off very easily.”, she answered softly.

M/n wrapped his arms around his little Sister and hid his face in her left shoulder, still trying to calm down. She felt that he was shaking. Skulduggery only nodded at that. He knew that kind of rage and protectiveness. It has been a while since he saw someone, who was just like he used to be.

“Can we please just continue ?”, M/n asked softly.

Stephanie rubbed M/n’s hands softly, to help him calm down. Fedgewick looked back down at the paper and continued to read, understanding that M/n got more and more unstable.

“With all that sorted out, I want to come to my Niece and Nephew now.”, he read out loud.

M/n and Stephanie looked at him with wide eyes. They will also inherit something ? Is Uncle Gordon serious ?

“I regret that I never had children of my own, but at the same time I felt lucky that I never had any, if I think at what Fergus and Beryl produced.”, he contined to read out.

M/n smirked and Stephanie had to keep her chuckle in.

“Although I have to admit that I saw Steph and M/n like my own kids at some point, sorry Melissa and Desmond, but I had to be honest. M/n, I know that you are adopted and that you always felt like, you weren’t good enough for anyone. That you felt like you never tried or did enough, but I promise you, you are enough. You do enough. You try enough. I know you are only 16 years of age, but you already finished school and college with 13 years of age, thanks to your incredible intelligence. I am proud of you and of how far you have come in such little time. And as you know, I let you move in with me, so you have more space to work and storage notes in and for Stephanie to finally have a bigger room to herself. I don’t want you to move out, so I decided, since you and Steph were both like my own kids that you have to share my house together.”

Their eyes went wide and M/n smiled happily. He was already worried where he should go that had enough space for him to work even from home, but now, this was a blessing to him. And he will share it with his little Sister ! He hugged her tightly, he didn’t mind sharing, all he wanted was for her to own the house too and he was happy they both own it now.

“Stephanie, my wonderful niece, I hope you aren’t all that mad with that decision. I want to give you also a few words, before I reveal what else YOU alone will inherit. The world is bigger, than you think, and scarier, as you can imagine. The only currency, that is worth something, is that, you always stay loyal to yourself, and the only goal, that is worth going for, is to find out, who you really are.”, Fedgewick read out.

She was giving a sad smile, while M/n smiled at her too, saddened, but with slight joy for her.

“Make your parents proud and take care, that they are lucky, to have you, because I am leaving to you all of my possessions, my financial assets and my royalties. They shall with the day, you’ll turn eighteen, be transferred to you. I want to use this opportunity and tell you, that I love you all in my very own way, even those, that I don’t like very much. I mean you with that, Beryl.”

Beryl scoffed softly, but instantly cowered away as M/n glared at her, with a dark promise.

“Before we end this whole testament, I want to remind you of something, M/n.”, Fedgewick continued to read out.

M/n snapped his attention back to him, listening.

“We all know you have serious anger issues and you are very overprotective, maybe even a bit territorial, of the Family. Anything bad, no matter how small, sets you off into a raging storm and that goes to Family only. Remember what I told you. No matter how outraged you get, try to keep a clear head for me, okay ? Rage can make you blind and you could lash out, doing or saying something, you didn’t mean to. Rage makes you think illogically, so please, always try to stay calm enough to take in your surroundings. Think, before you act. I know you are a very smart and clever boy, so please use that head of yours. I know you will miss me terribly, because now you have no one that will help you out, when you are stuck or stressed out, so I thought of something small, but don’t have too much hope on it.”

M/n listened very carefully and he was confused. What was his Uncle planning ?

“I bet you met Skulduggery Pleasant, my friend that I told you a bit about. You two have almost similar jobs. I ask of Skulduggery, as a very good friend, to give you his phone number. He might be able to help you in some problems you are going to be stuck in. And no, Skul, I don’t mean any physical problems, I mean in his job, some problems. After all...your jobs are almost the same. Please help him out when he asks for your help. I trust you enough for this. I love you all and I hope you will live happily.”, Fedgewick finished and took off his glasses.

M/n was surprised and Skulduggery seemed to be too.

“Similar jobs, huh ?”, Skulduggery asked.

“What kind of job, M/n ?”, Melissa asked.

M/n felt himself sweating at that question.

“Marketing ! I got promoted and I do marketing stuff now and I design websites. I didn’t know Mr. Pleasant had something similar to it.”, he lied quickly.

Skulduggery seemed to pick up on it, while the others blindly believed him.

“Ah, yes. I do something quite similar. I am surprised you do such a job as well.”, he replied, playing along.

“You might have some tricks that I don’t know of. Can’t wait to learn from them.”, M/n played it off.

“Of course.”

Stephanie got up and M/n stood up as well. Beryl threw a fit and M/n raced out of the room, wishing Fedgewick a nice day and thanking him for everything. Skulduggery was close behind him.

“Alright.”, M/n said as he was alone with the mysterious man.

“What are you actually doing for a job ?”, M/n asked.

“You say yours first.”, Skulduggery replied.

“I work as a Coroner.”, M/n answered honestly.

Skulduggery was stunned into silence.

“You, a Coroner ?”

“Yep. I worked and studied very hard for it and with 13 years I got the job. I have been very good since, but there are newly some...clients that seem to have died...weirdly. Or better...murdered....weirdly... Any time I was stuck and couldn’t make sense of it, Gordon helped me. He made me relax and then we talked about it, then he came up with conclusions and at least one of them was always right.”, M/n explained.

“You are sixteen and you work as a Coroner ?”, he repeated.

“I had to grow up way faster than others. When you lived on the streets for a while and saw horror at its worst, as a kid none the less, you don’t get scared that easily anymore when you work with corpses.”, M/n said slightly monotone.

“Oh dear... I work as a Detective.”, Skulduggery answered softly.

M/n stared at the masked man in surprise.

“Huh. Uncle was right then. We have similar jobs. You solve the Crime and who did it, while I inspect the corpses and what killed them.”

“Seems so.”

“Though, I bet you do a different Detective job, because I’ve never seen, nor heard of you around here before. So I guess you work on ‘special’ cases. Am I right ?”

“You can call it that.”, Skulduggery confirmed.

“Okay... I have some ‘special’ cases sometimes, that the Crime police doesn’t want to waste their time on, because they think it is stupid or too much of a hassle. I can send you one and you could tell me if that would fall into your categories of ‘special’ cases.”, M/n offered.

“That would be a good idea.”

“Well then...phone number ? I could send you pictures of the reports then.”

“Oh, right.”

Skulduggery pulled out a pen and paper and wrote down his phone number, then he gave it to M/n.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“If we work together a few times, just call me Skulduggery. Sir makes me feel older than I am.”

“Okay, Skulduggery. I will text you later, when I have the reports.”

“Splendid.”

Then Skulduggery looked at his pocket watch and sighed.

“Well, I have to get going to work now.”, he told the Teen.

He was about to leave as M/n stopped him.

“Hey.”

“Yes ?”, Skulduggery asked.

“If you need help or something, tell me, yeah ? I might look like I don’t know a lot, but I know more than anyone thinks. If you are stuck on something, tell me and I’ll try to help. Helping goes both ways, after all.”, M/n said softly, with a kind smile.

Skulduggery felt touched.

“I will. Same goes to you. If you are in ANY trouble, call me. I will come to help.”

“Any trouble ? Even physical ones ?”, M/n asked softly.

“Any trouble. That includes physical trouble. If you feel watched or are being followed, call me and I will come.”

M/n smiled brighter and nodded.

“I will, thank you.”

“You are welcome. After all, Coroner is just as much of a dangerous job, as a Detective one’s is.”

With that Skulduggery left and M/n felt a bit touched. He understood now why Gordon liked this guy.

Masterlist HERE !

#skulduggery pleasant #derek landy #male!reader #not the canon au #read warnings above #valkyrie cain #my au #skulduggery pleasant x reader universe #Gordon Edgley #Stephanie Edgley #Family Edgley #Fergus #Beryl #Carol #Crystal #Mr. Fedgewick #Playing with a Coroner and a Detective is not wise - Skulduggery x Male!Reader Universe #Part 1 - Gordon’s Testament

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fectiverundercroft · 1 year

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Little bit of life advice.

Be cautious if you sign up with some local-only or family-owned service of some kind. The personal touch might be nice, it’s usually good to have workers personally invested in their clients’ lives and communities, but they also often lack the resources to do a job with all the thoroughness and professionalism you find at a bigger company.

Or maybe it’s just that bigger companies have a lower “we can afford to give them what they want if they’ll go away” threshold. It’s hard to deconvolute those two phenomena.

My experience was with a local credit union. It was attached (not physically) to my church, which was convenient; I could stop there before or after mass if I had to, it was easy to set up automated giving, I’d see the tellers at church, we got to know each other a bit.

Then I left. Moved to a new time zone, where they certainly didn’t have any branches. Went in before I left and asked how to close my account, and they said I could do it with one phone call when I had a new account set up. Easy.

Thinking it would still be easy when I couldn’t walk in and talk to a real person if I hit any snags was my first mistake.

I didn’t cancel my credit card right away but I did empty my checking account since it was easy to write a check for the whole balance when I got to where I was going. I did destroy the credit card as soon as I paid off my last statement once I got a new card through my new bank. This has has sufficed as a de facto cancellation in the past, to the point where I’d get letters from a company saying “you haven’t used this in six months so we’re closing the card.” Then I procrastinated and then forgot about it for a while.

That was my second mistake. Don’t do what I did.

Fast forward a year and I got a statement on that old credit card again. My credit card account apparently was still open, and someone hacked it to make a fourteen dollar purchase. Not a lot, maybe it was just a test by the hacker, but I realized I had put off too long what I should never have put off at all.

I called the credit card company and told them what happened. They promised to take care of it. I made my next mistake here, but I made it again later so I’ll explain it at that time. Then I called my credit union and explained the same thing, adding that I wanted to close my account for good now, what with there apparently being a liability. I even mentioned the credit card situation. They told me the person who handled this stuff was out of the office but she would take care of it when she got back. I knew they had my new contact information so I let it go.

I trusted them enough to forget about how long it would take for the financial wheels to turn. Then I got another credit card bill, not for the zero dollars I expected—I assumed this would be a final “you’re all set and we will miss you as a customer” letter like I’ve gotten before, but no—now for the original fourteen dollars plus a fourteen dollar late fee because I didn’t pay on time originally.

Okay, time to stop trusting and being patient.

I started calling the credit union and the credit card company to get things resolved. At the time it seemed wise not to close my savings account until I had my card issue resolved, but it ended up not working the way I wanted anyway. It wouldn’t have worked anyway, as you’ll see.

So I’m on the phone with the credit card company. I explain my account was hacked and I was challenging a bogus charge, and I wanted to close my account for real. Spelled out that I moved out of the area from where my union was located and I had destroyed my card a year ago so there was no way I could have used it to buy whatever the thing was. For some reason this didn’t get through. I was surprised because when I first called, I actually picked the phone tree option to report a stolen card/fraudulent transaction. But she kept “explaining” that she couldn’t close the card until I made my late payment. I told her again I wasn’t doing that—in retrospect it would have been easier, but I was getting angry enough now I didn’t want to let it go—because it wasn’t my activity on the card, and I had called a month before to report it but nothing happened.

I started to wonder if that first bill I received was a scam and I had actually called a hacker, but my card hadn’t been used again and it was the same phone number as on my union’s web site.

So we’re going back and forth, and it’s like talking to a brick wall. I’m trying to tell her I’m reporting a fraudulent charge, she seems to understand that’s what I’m asking because she’s actually repeating my words, and I want my card cancelled for real, but she’s also telling me it needs to be paid before the card can be closed. Eventually she talks her way in a full circle and I raise my voice when I remind her that I shouldn’t be paying for any charges or late fees on a card that was electronically stolen, especially not after I already called and was told this would get taken care of.

She reminds me that the call is being recorded.

I almost reminded her that she also has been recorded asking me to pay a charge that I have been recorded reporting as fraudulent. She probably wasn’t thinking about that and just got lost in her script somewhere, and remembered her “if they get upset, say X” escape hatch, because then she offered to transfer me to an account closure specialist. No apology for misunderstanding me for fifteen minutes, but at least it was progress.

The specialist can’t find my credit union in her directory.

False alarm: its name was some shorthand neither of us would have guessed.

So, she…transfers my call back to the credit union. Where I started. Where I was told I needed to call the credit card company to take care of that part of it.

At least now I’m talking to someone who, I hope, can get something done.

I explain my situation all over again. I’m told the account closing person is off that day but everything she needs will be provided to her by the guy I’m talking to now, but do I want to have the $28 credit card debt taken out of my savings before it’s closed, or pay by some other way?

I was ready to lose it again but at least this was the first time I was talking to this guy. It’s been half an hour now. Here’s the second mistake I made again: I didn’t take notes on all the conversations I had with everybody about all this. I still had my original statement with the fraudulent $14 charge, and I know I called the day I got it, but I didn’t get the name of the guy I talked to; nor did I remember the name of the woman who got defensive when I told her I’m not taking her advice to pay the fraudulent charge I’m challenging, nor the name of the specialist who routed me back to my union. It might have helped if I could have thrown more of their records, with names and dates and timestamps, back in their face when they started repeating “well all this happened because you didn’t report a stolen card,” which I did once a month ago and about five times twenty minutes ago and another time ten minutes before that when I called the credit union to see what I needed to do to get the ball rolling.

Finally, this guy seems to understand: I want to close my savings and card accounts, and there is fraudulent activity on my card that didn’t get taken care of when I tried to ask them for help a month ago or half an hour ago.

The next day I get emailed an electronic form to sign for the closure of my account. The email states the $28 charge will be reversed as well. Perfect.

A week later I get a banker’s check for what I had left in savings, along with a letter stating my accounts were all closed, and I would not be obligated to pay that $28…even though the problem was that I never asked them to take care of it before I “missed” the payment due date.

Let them believe what they want at this point. Not my circus, not my monkeys. Not anymore.

Coda: my new bank sent me a letter a week later saying “we’re not sure this check you deposited is real. We’re letting your new balance stay where it is for now but if the check doesn’t clear we’re taking it back.” I shouldn’t be surprised, after the amateur hour I went through, that they were skeptical of my old credit union. But it’s been a month, again, and I still have all my money. In a nationally recognized bank. That was recommended to me by trusted family members.

Not one of those shitty ones that tallies up all your withdrawals for the month before they tally up your deposits so they can charge you for covering would-be-but-not-really bounced checks. Don’t make that mistake either.

So there’s that.

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realityescapee01 · 3 years

Text

When Klaus was jealous, you do everything to calm him, and then it was your turn to get jealous and it's Klaus's turn to calm you down...

Klaus x Reader

You have been dating Klaus for 5 months now. Everything's going okay.

Elijah loves you for Klaus. Same with Rebekah, citing that Klaus finally can be happy.

Kol was fascinated. He tried to scare you, just for the fun of it, intentionally making Klaus rage out, complete with his true face. Hybrid, eyes and fangs. But you were not scared. Kol asked why, you said, you know what they are and what they do or can do. It's not always rainbows and butterflies and glitter.

Everything was great with Klaus.

Except when your ex-lovers cross paths with you. Klaus would be mean and harsh.

Elijah calling him out and saying: Y/N is not even having a time alone with her exes. They just pass by each other, say a little hello. Or they just happen to be in the same building.

Just like tonight. It's your date night, but apparently, the chef in the restaurant is your ex. An extra plate came with your order. Klaus informed the waiter that you didn't order that. And the waiter said it was from the chef. You 2 looked over, and saw your ex wave from the kitchen door.

Klaus narrowed his eyes. You immediately hold his hand to calm him down. And that was the last time you ever entered that restaurant.

But it reached an all time high with your first boyfriend. He was a client in the hospital you were working on. He brought in his son for a checkup. You two separated on a good note, and so were okay to talk a while. Both of you were only in middle school then. You just laughed about how silly you both were then. You gave him the results of his son's checkup and bid goodbye.

You looked awfully happy talking to him. Klaus said, foot hard on the gas pedal. You explained who the man was and that it was just a silly kids' love story and to please slow the car down a little. You try everything to calm him down. Assuring him and all. Everything, to make Klaus not jealous anymore.

One time, one of Klaus's ex love interest, came visiting New Orleans. Claims to have some witch issue business. Klaus disappeared the moment he heard about her. And you never see or heard from Klaus all afternoon then.

Rebekah dragged you to Rousseau's and saw Klaus and the ex in there. You were a little jealous. Rebekah told you who the woman was and how Klaus was all over her before. Relentlessly.

You ask Rebekah why, and she just said, Klaus was always the one being calmed down from jealousy, let's see how he does when he's the one doing the calming. Rebekah told you to just go along. Told you to wait by the door. Then she approached Klaus.

Klaus and the other was very engaged in the conversation. Smiling. Laughing. Then Rebekah tapped Klaus's shoulder. You left this, Y/N asked me to give it to you. Rebekah dropped the phone in front of him

Then she said: well, we're leaving now. We? Klaus asked. Oh, me and Y/N. Rebekah then walked towards the door. Klaus looked over and felt... guilty. Rebekah just dragged you outside.

Klaus looked at his phone. A lot of messages and missed calls from you. You were supposed to meet in the plaza to watch your favorite band. Who were touring. Lucky enough to stop by New Orleans. And you missed them. Because Klaus was busy here. Drinking, with his ex.

Klaus let out a sharp breath and bid goodbye to his ex. Then followed you.

Love. Klaus called for you. You just continued walking. Please, love. Klaus stopped you by your hand. I am sorry. He said.

Sorry for what? You wanted him to say it. It was kinda ironic that he did the thing he always accuse you of: seeing your exes. But you never really did. You never go out drinking with them like Klaus did.

I forgot about our date. Klaus said. Because you were drinking with your ex. You retorted. Now you know how I feel. Klaus said out of spite. I don't go drinking with my exes. You calmly said. Klaus doesn't have an answer to that. You left him there as you walked home.

Klaus was sermoned by Elijah. Pointing out the things that he already knows he did wrong. There was a lot of back and forth with them until Klaus resigned himself into his room.

The next day you were woken up by music. You were still sleepy and couldn't quite recognize what it was. But you were sure it's coming from outside. You went to the balcony, and there you saw Klaus, with your favorite band, playing in front of your apartment.

Klaus?!? You called from above. Can I come up, love? Klaus asked. You nodded and he was out of the street and was beside you in an instant. Holding you close. I'm sorry. Then he kisses your cheek. Please, forgive me. It will never happen again.

You love him so much, so you forgave him. Klaus felt calm at last. Do you always feel like this when calming me from my jealous feats? Klaus asked. Oh, no. It's harder. Way harder than this, trust me. You said. Klaus just let a little laugh and kissed you

-+-+complete+-+-

master list here

#klaus #klaus mikaelson #imagine #reader #oc #klaus imagine #klaus reader #the originals #tvd #to

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1plus1kiyoomi · 3 years

Text

Chapter 6: Fight or Flght Response

[prev] [next]

[masterlist]

——————————————————————————

warnings: mentions of sex and pretty much a toxic relationship

Morning comes and Kuroo wakes up with a headache. Eyes still closed, he taps on the other side of the bed, his hands looking for your body. “Love?” He groans. “Love, can you bring me some medication? My head hurts.”

Kuroo falls asleep once again and then wakes up an hour later. He sits up, his head ringing. “(Y/N)? Love?” He leaves the bed and doesn’t feel any presence of you in the house. “Oh, it’s 9AM. She must be at work already.”

Well, Kuroo’s not wrong. You are at your office but you aren’t working. You’re weeping at your table because you can’t seem to get rid of Kuroo’s words to his friends.

“So (Y/N) and I are trying to work our marriage out for a year, and she’s taking it way too seriously. While I can’t even look at her face! She messages me all the time about where I am, what I’m doing and all of that. She begs me to go on dates and nags at me if I miss it. I want to tell her off sometimes, but she’s a really good fuck. Like she’s amazing in bed and she lets me have it anytime so yeah. I guess it’s worth to stay.”

It keeps repeating in your head like a broken track. And your tears run down your cheeks and you know it won’t stop for a while. You stand from your desk and move to the little bedroom that is in your office. You lay on the bed and bury your face on the pillow.

The moment you heard his words come of his lips last night, you wanted to slap him hard, beat him up, tear his hair off his head, but you couldn’t. You were glued on the wooden floor of Kenma’s house, not able to believe Kuroo could say that. Your heart shattered into pieces that couldn’t be even counted.

But still, you went home with him. Even slept with him.

If your friends, especially Iwaizumi, find out about this, they’ll definitely tell you to leave him. No excuses. And you don’t want to leave Kuroo.

“Where did I go wrong? Is it because I’m ugly?” You take your phone out and open the camera app. “Very ugly right now. This is why he doesn’t want me to post anything about our relationship.”

Someone knocks on your office door so you wipe your tears quickly and open the Netflix app so you can pretend that you’ve been watching a sad movie this whole time.

“(Y/N)? The flowers are here,” Terushima says as he enters your office. “Why are you crying?”

Speaking of Terushima, he and Kuroo have become friends after their fight. When Kuroo picks you up sometimes and Terushima’s also there, you always find the two talking about hair. The blonde even goes to your place sometimes so he can style Kuroo’s hair. It’s their form of bonding so you really don’t have a say about it.

“This drama is just so sad,” you lie, showing him the screen of your phone that is playing a random sad movie.

“I didn’t know you were the type to cry cause of movies,” the blonde chuckles. “Anyways, fix yourself. Because we will be decorating a big function room starting this afternoon.”

“I almost forgot. The client wanted all real flowers right?” You sigh and sit up from your bed. ‘No time for crying. You’re a busy woman.’

“Yeah, so we have to make sure that the flowers will not wither tomorrow,” Terushima confirms.

You brush your issue with Kuroo under the rag and focus on your work instead.

Evening comes quickly and it’s finally time for your team to set up at the function hall. You had to wait until late evening to start since there was an event beforehand. The bestman of the wedding, Yuta, joined your team as the supervisor.

While you are setting up on the stage, you can feel your workmates throwing weird looks at you. “What?” You raise an eyebrow at them and one of your colleagues walks up to you.

“The best man has been staring at you ever since we got her,” she whispers with a teasing smirk. You roll your eyes at her and brush it off.

It’s always like this. At every event, your colleagues ships you with every best man or groomsman that shows interest towards you. They don’t know you’re actually married and think you’re single so they tease you. In hopes that you finally get to plan your own wedding. Sadly, you already are married and no wedding will take place.

You take a glance at the said man and he is staring at you, but not in a creepy way. As soon as you make eye contact, he smiles at you. You swear your heart skips a beat but at the same time you will never admit that it did.

“Miss (L/N)?” Yuta calls you out of nowhere. Surprised by his sudden presence, you fall on the ladder you are on and land on top of him.

‘What in the drama is this?!’

“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” You push yourself off of the man quickly and bow repeatedly.

“It’s alright! It’s my fault for surprising you.” Yuta stands up as well and when your eyes meet, you burst into laughter. “You’re much prettier up close.”

“So you’re the straightforward type, huh?” You let out a chuckle and he smirks at you. “I thought you’d be a shy one since you have been just staring until now.”

“Well, since you think I’m the straightforward type, let me ask you. Are you single?” Yuta smiles at you shyly this time and you feel your cheeks burn hot.

‘You’re married, (Y/N)! Don’t even think about flirting back.’ You mentally scold yourself and look away from the man beside you. “Find out yourself.”

The glamorous wedding finally ends and it was one of the best weddings you have every coordinated. The couple is so in love with each other and they are surrounded by supportive family and friends. The guests were very uplifting and fun in general. You even made friends with some of the guests and have gotten closer to Yuta.

“Thank you for planning our wedding. This is such a dream come true!” The bride thanks you with a bow. You bow back and say your thanks as well. “And Yuta’s a good boy.” The bride winks at you before she and groom leaves.

“(Y/N)!” Speaking of the devil.

“Yuta!” You wave at him. He runs towards you and pants when he’s finally in front with you. “Can I help you with something?”

“Do you have a drive home?” He asks you so you shake your head no. You’re just being honest. “Can I drive you to your place?”

“My place is just a 10-minute walk from here, so it’s okay,” you reply. You check the time and it’s already past midnight. “I have to go now. It’s really late. Bye!”

“I’ll walk with you!” Yuta offers. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Okay, then. Whatever makes you sleep at night,” you joke and he just laughs.

The two of you walk home and Yuta shares random stories about his childhood. You like it. You like how he is open to you without you trying. You like how he’s initiating first. You like how gentle he is when he is talking to you. You like how he softly calls your name. You like how he’s not hiding that he’s interested in you. But you hate how you want Kuroo to be like that towards you. You hate how you’re still thinking about him.

Kuroo’s words come crashing into your mind again and you badly want to take Yuta’s hand and ask him to bring you home. But your mind is also telling you to come home quickly to Kuroo, even if you know he won’t be waiting for you.

“I’m here!” You say as you arrive in front of your condominium building. “Thank you for walking me.”

“No problem.” Yuta scratches the back of his neck. A change of demeanor happens, and Yuta becomes shy. “Can I get your number? I want to tak-”

“(Y/N)!”

Your world freezes as you hear Kuroo’s voice. It’s 1AM. Why the hell is he outside your building as well? You turn your head see him glaring at you with his arms crossed.

‘What do I do? Kuroo might misunderstand! And I can’t tell Yuta that Kuroo is my husband because he wants to keep our relationship a secret. Oh my gosh! What to do?’

You’re panicking. Your whole system is. You can feel your fingers tremble. Kuroo is walking towards the two of you and is already so close but you still don’t know what to do and say. The particles in your container are bouncing on the walls of your space rapidly because of pressure, and it’s making your mind go blank. Your fight or flight response is not functioning well.

Kuroo has been waiting for you at your building’s lobby since 10PM. He was waiting for your message about him picking you up at the hotel, but clearly you forgot about that. He thought you forgot because of fatigue but clearly that’s not the case.

Especially now that a man he has never seen before walked you back to your place.

“Who’s this?” Yuta and Kuroo ask in unison. Yuta glares at Kuroo, not liking how provocative the guy looks. Your husband raises an eyebrow at Yuta, his feline-like eyes glaring back at the unfamiliar guy.

“Kuroo, this is my friend Yuta,” you start to introduce but they aren’t even listening to you. They’re in this staring contest you don’t know about.

“And Yuta, this is Kuroo, my brother.”

——————————————————————————

Facts:

Your reactions when you are nervous are driven by the production of hormones and equip us to fight or escape from situations that are dangerous or threatening. This is known as the fight or flight response.

Nervousness can cause stuttering and rambling.

Anxiety may be partly genetic.

People who are anxious are quicker to pick up on changes in facial expressions than those who are but they are less accurate. Thus, it causes misunderstandings.

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#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smau #haikyuu series #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro smau #kuroo tetsuro fanfiction #kuroo x reader #kuroo smau #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x you

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my-soul-sings · 3 years

Text

kiss the girl: ch 2

Fandom: Tears of Themis Characters: Artem x Reader

Summary: Armed with a trusty book, Artem Wing attempts to win the woman of his dreams.

ch 1 | ch 2

***

“Surprise her with flowers.”

Artem has skipped to the second half of the book where the practical suggestions are, because he doesn’t have the patience to carefully read the lengthy explanations of the “psychology of love”. The practical tips are simple enough, but the explanations following each of them are unnecessarily long and repetitive.

Ignoring those, he highlights the ones that stand out—those that sound more doable for him, at least.

The first one he notices is a classic: flowers. Of course. He’s done it before actually—he’d given her a bouquet of garden cosmos because she told him that she liked them. She didn’t really show much of a reaction back then, but he recalls the warm smile it had put on her face for the rest of that day. He doesn’t mind seeing it again.

But, would it be boring to do the exact same thing? Maybe he can change it up slightly… If he recalls correctly, the book said something about how to send a bouquet of flowers in a way that will “keep her on her toes”.

It doesn’t take long for him to scan the book and find the relevant page. However, as he goes over the detailed suggestion, his brows gradually turn downwards into a frown.

“Will this really work...” he mumbles to himself, pressing a finger to his temple. Frankly, it sounds unnecessarily cliched and cumbersome… not to mention embarrassing. No doubt, if Celestine catches wind of this, she won’t let him live it down.

But, he supposes, if he’s going to take relationship advice from a book, then he might as well go through with it fully.

Having made up his mind, Artem picks up his phone and begins typing up a draft message.

***

You’ve barely stepped into the office when you hear Kiki calling your name in an unusually high-pitched voice. Your first thought is that she’s managed to get tickets for the upcoming concert for her favourite idol group.

But then you arrive at your desk and realise a marked change from how you had left it the night before: your usually clean and neat desk now has a large bouquet of garden cosmos placed right in the middle of it.

Artem’s is the first name that comes to mind, but you dismiss the thought quickly. With his shy and reserved personality, it’d be strange to expect him to send you flowers out of the blue.

Your sharp eyes don’t miss the little pink rectangular card sticking out from the side of the bouquet. Kiki spots it at the same time as you do, and her eyes widen with a playful gleam, not even trying to be subtle with the way she’s leaning over to you, to take a peek at the message.

With a cheeky smile, you lean away from her too, deliberately hiding the card from her view, which only makes Kiki kick up a fuss about wanting to see too. Thankfully, Celestine isn’t in the office yet. You don’t think you can deal with two overly-enthused friends this early in the morning.

Ignoring Kiki’s protests, you open the folded card to read it. As it turns out, there’s not much to hide from her. The message is a simple and curt one:

I hope this makes you smile. Have a good day.

“There’s no signature,” you remark, handing the card to Kiki who practically lunges for it. Her disappointment at the short message is obvious. “Why would someone give you flowers without signing off on it?”

“Maybe they forgot?” you venture, although you carefully search the bouquet in case you missed something else.

“Don’t tell me… Did you send this to yourself?”

You’re unable to hold in your laughter at the absurd idea, and the both of you simultaneously burst into giggles. Just then, your finger feels the edge of another piece of paper hidden between the wrapping paper. You pull it out, and it’s just a small, square card with the letter ‘M’ written on it in fancy, embellished lettering.

“Maybe it’s the first letter of his name?” Kiki suggests. “Who do you think it’s from?”

The letter ‘M’... You don’t know that many people whose name starts with that letter, and a familiar face is already coming to mind—he’s the only one who would pull a stunt like this, especially after you told him specifically a few days ago that you did not want him to send flowers to you, and especially not to your workplace. You don’t want to be teased by your colleagues and worse, Artem might get the wrong idea if he sees it.

“I think I might know who the culprit is…”

With a clenched fist, you pull out your phone and search up the contact before hitting the ‘call’ button. Kiki is left behind, cleanly forgotten, as you storm out of the office to give the culprit a piece of your mind.

***

When Artem enters the office that morning, the first thing he notices is Celestine and Kiki whispering to each other at the pantry while stealing glances at a certain attorney’s way. He follows their gazes to her desk where she’s seated and doing work as always, although today there seems to be a frown etched onto her face, and the bouquet of flowers are nowhere to be seen.

He panics for a moment, wondering if something had gone wrong with the delivery, but then he notices the wrapping peeking out from underneath the table when he walks past her desk and heads towards the pantry, where her two friends are obviously talking about her behind her back—literally.

“What’s going on?” he asks in a low whisper after exchanging morning greetings with them. “Did something happen?”

Celestine discreetly points in the direction of their sulking friend with a grimace. “She’s been like this ever since she got the flowers this morning.”

Artem’s brows knit together, and his mouth opens and closes a few times before he finally manages to piece together his thoughts into a coherent sentence. “I thought... she’d be happy to receive flowers.”

“I thought so too,” Kiki nods, “but when I asked if she knew who the sender was, she suddenly got angry. Said she knew who the culprit was and stormed off. Then she came back and she’s been doing work like this ever since.” She finishes her explanation with a drawn-out sigh, and her eyes return to the back figure of the junior lawyer who’s furiously typing away at her computer.

Artem follows her gaze, and nervously swallows a lump that had formed in his throat without him realising. As always, Celestine is annoyingly quick to catch on to what he’s thinking, and she startles him slightly with an elbow nudge to his arm. “Shouldn’t you put your things down in your office? Or are you here for coffee again?”

He’s not even in the mood to humour her right now. With an absent hum, he nods and quietly trudges towards his office.

Once he’s inside and the door is shut, his bag falls to the ground by his desk and his jacket is flung unceremoniously onto the back of his chair before he sinks into it, fingers entangling in his hair.

He’s screwed. Did he send her the wrong flowers? But she said she liked garden cosmos and he had sent her the same flowers before, so that can’t be it.

Then, was it the message? But he took pains to make sure that it was short, simple and pleasant. Or was it because it was too short? Had she been expecting more?

No, no, but Kiki said she got angry after she figured out who the sender was… which meant that she was angry at him. Had he overstepped the boundaries by sending flowers to the office?

That’s probably it. He messed up horribly. Of course she would be upset that her boss sent her flowers to the office—that was inappropriate. Entirely inappropriate. Why didn’t he think this through properly? Stupid, stupid stupid…

He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t even register the sound of knocking on his door. It’s only when he hears his name being called that he looks up, only to meet the gaze of his colleague whom he can’t bear to face right now.

Hastily, he fixes his hair from the crazed pulling and tugging just seconds ago, and sits upright in his chair while eyeing her cautiously. He’d better pick his words wisely here. “Yes?” The word comes out strained, as if he’s choking.

“I’ve completed the draft statement of claim for the Macrosoft employee issue—the one about the breach of restraint of trade clause and the conspiracy claim,” she says, placing a set of papers on his table. “I’ve also completed the legal opinion you requested for the resulting trust analysis on the Williams’ matrimonial property issue, and I will send you the draft affidavit for Mrs Jones’ case by the end of today.”

“Ah. Thank you…” Artem waits for her to say something else, all while scrutinising her face. She doesn’t seem as angry as before—although she does look a little confused when she meets his gaze.

“Did I miss anything?” she asks, already visibly starting to panic.

“N-No, it’s not that...” Should he just apologise right now and avoid letting the issue fester? He’s not sure if he should be happy or unnerved by how perfectly normal she’s acting. Is she not angry anymore? Or is she just doing an exceptional job of holding her anger in? All those reminders he used to give her about maintaining composure in front of clients and in court must have paid off.

“Okay. Then, if there’s nothing else, I’ll go—”

“Wait, just— just a second.” She peers at him curiously as he stands to his feet and walks over to her, all the while refusing to make eye contact with her.

“T-The morning... flowers… you...” For goodness’ sake, he makes a living off speaking before the court, and yet here he is, reduced to the equivalent of a blabbering toddler in front of his colleague.

“Ah... you saw those?” she looks away, and he sees the frustration from earlier returning to her face.

“You… don’t like them?”

“It’s not that,” she replies, twisting her lips. “It’s just a stupid prank to play on someone.”

“A… stupid… prank?” Each word is like a stab to his chest. Did he do something to give her the impression that he was making fun of her, or playing a joke? Most people think he’s too serious to crack jokes in the first place...

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve settled it with the culprit.”

For the first time in the conversation so far, Artem doesn’t sink further into his internal pool of self-pity. Instead, he’s now genuinely puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I just called him to tell him to not send me flowers to the office anymore. I’ve told him before, but he really doesn’t listen to people.”

“Who?”

“Marius. You know how he is.”

“You think… Marius… gave you the flowers?”

“Yeah. He kept denying it over the phone, but I know better than to believe him. Who else would send me flowers for no reason?”

She’s staring at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to laugh at her rhetorical question or respond to it in some way.

Artem doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know how, because his mind has drawn a complete blank at this point, save for the one question ringing in his mind:

Where the heck did she get the idea that the flowers were from Marius?

In his stupor, Artem doesn’t realise that the silence in his office has been stretching on for far too long for it to be comfortable. And he doesn’t notice the realisation that clicks in her eyes after a while, until he hears a quiet, “ Oh .”

She sheepishly meets his eyes. “By any chance, was that letter on the card meant to be a ‘W’? As in, ‘Wing’?”

Should he admit it? If he does, will her anger shift to him? Should he just let Marius be the scapegoat and live the rest of his days in quiet atonement and regret?

Artem doesn’t get the chance to admit it, because she easily reads the answer off his very perplexed and obviously guilty expression. Obviously, he’s far better suited to defending criminals than acting like one.

“Are you mad?” he asks her, when she too, falls silent.

“Huh? No, no, of course not. Why would I be?”

“You were angry when you thought Marius sent you flowers.”

“That’s because it’s Marius. But I’m glad the flowers were from you .” Her lips spread into a warm smile, and in that instant, all of Artem’s worries dissolve into thin air. “I love the bouquet, it’s beautiful. Thank you.”

A smile of relief makes its way onto his face, and he nods. “I’m glad you like it.”

So there is some truth to the book that Celestine gave him after all.

In that case… maybe next time, he can send her roses. He hopes he’ll have the occasion to, anyway. For now, he’ll take it one step at a time.

#artem wing #tears of themis #artem fanfiction #artem fanfic #tears of themis fanfiction #tears of themis fanfic #my writing #this is up on AO3 as well if u wanna read it there!#my handle is morninwarri0r #kiss the girl

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charmingyong · 3 years

Text

Sukidesu

Genre: local!Yuta x tourist!reader (gender neutral), fluff, a dash of angst

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.9k

Plot: You went on a solo trip to Japan after your friend backed out, despite the fact that you barely knew Japanese as you were relying on your friend to be your translator. Thankfully, a local boy helped you out with his limited vocabulary in English.

A/N: in loving memory of my japan trip that got cancelled last year (eff you covid!!) Please let me know if there are any issues with the gender-neutral assignment.

gif: mine

- ❀ -

“I’m really so so sorry, Y/N. I feel so bad,” Aeri said over the phone.

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine. And I’m always down for a challenge.”

Aeri being the one who planned the trip was upset that her boss decided to be rude and have her come in for work, stressing about her presence being needed to handle a very important client. “I swear, I would have handed my resignation letter if it weren’t for the good pay.”

You rolled your eyes at her words. “Don’t say that. I’m sure we can go again together in the future.”

“Yeah, but are you really okay going alone? You don’t even know any Japanese except for like four words or something.”

She was right. You had only picked up a few words from the handful of anime shows you watched, not to mention that you knew nothing on how to read any of the writing systems. “I have the translator ready on my phone. I should be fine.” Though your confidence wavered the last second before hearing the boarding announcement of your flight, you tried to remain strong and think that everything would all work out. “It’s time for me to go now. I’ll text you when I get there.”

- ❀ -

[Memory one]

You let out a long sigh as you stared at the foreign characters on the menu board, never learning any of the Japanese writing systems. The lady owner patiently waited for you to give her your order.

“I… I don’t know,” you muttered, your head hanging low. Anything would do as long as it filled your stomach and was an authentic local specialty.

“Um hello?”

You heard from behind you. Turning around, you found a boy giving you a shy look. “Oh hi,” you politely greeted back with a confused look.

He shifted on his feet. “I uh... you help?” he offered with an unsure tone as he struggled a bit with his broken English.

“You want to help me?”

He nodded.

You smiled gratefully. “Thank you so much! I just want anything good and will add to my experience here.”

“Good?” The boy picked up and said, “I...” and lost his words before pointing at him and then at the owner.

“Oh, you want to order for me?”

He hesitated but nodded eventually when hearing ‘for me.’ “Yes.” The boy turned to the lady, placing an order with two fingers held up. The lady smiled and quickly got to work preparing the round fried food, and soon enough handed two plates of takoyaki to each of you.

You thanked her and took a bit of it with your chopsticks, eyes going wide with the flavour bursting in your mouth. “Woah! This is really good!” you beamed happily at him. “Thank you so much! And oh, I almost forgot. I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself with a wide grin.

He mirrored it back, making him look like an angel with his healing smile. “I Yuta.”

- ❀ -

[Memory two]

“So cool,” you uttered under your breath as your eyes wandered around the vast array of Japanese sandals on the walls.

Too busy deciding which style to go for, you didn’t hear another customer enter the small traditional shop until they spoke your name.

“Y/N?” The voice was familiar, and you twirled around to see Yuta’s smile grow, relieved that he guessed you right.

“Oh! Yuta!” you smiled back. “It’s nice to see you again.”

He nodded in agreement. “Yes. How... are you?”

“I’m great, except...” your eyes traveled back to the wall.

His face fell slightly in worry. “What wrong?”

You shook your head. “Nothing bad. I just don’t know which pair to buy. They all look so good,” you pointed to the variety of sandals.

He hummed and asked, “Can I help?”

You blinked at him. “You want to?” An opinion from the local cute boy was definitely something you’d be down for.

His pearly whites were on full display as he nodded eagerly. “Yes.”

- ❀ -

[Memory three]

Just as your eyes were fixed on observing the cute little souvenirs on the shelves, you heard a series of loud knocks on the window and you jumped, being startled greatly by it. You looked out the window and found a familiar Japanese boy peeking into the shop, laughing happily when he caught your attention. He backed off to make his way into the shop.

“Yuta, you scared me there,” you laughed it off.

He sheepishly apologized. “Sorry.”

Shaking your head, you said “It’s okay. But it’s nice to see you, once again.”

He nodded and was lost in his thoughts for a moment. “Um Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“You alone?”

You nodded. “Yeah, my friend couldn’t come, and I really wanted to explore Japan. So I came alone.”

He took in your words, his brain on full gear to process them. “Can I help?”

“Help? Like how?”

He pointed at himself. “I... uh travel... you...”

It took you a few seconds before you were able to grasp his thought. “Do you want to be my tour guide and show me around here?”

“Ah! Yes. Your tour guide,” he beamed excitedly like a little child who learned a new word.

That sounded like a great idea. While you had the itinerary that you and your friend prepared, you weren’t dead set on doing everything list there as long as you were able to enjoy your time and explore to your heart’s content. After all, you were going to come back anyway with your friend in the future. And a plus point with having Yuta as a guide, you wouldn’t be struggling with your limited Japanese ability.

You nodded, your lips curling up joyfully. “I’d love that.”

- ❀ -

[Memory four]

“Yuta? Where’s-”

You had probably asked the Japanese boy a million things by now when shopping inside the variety store. Before Yuta became your traveling buddy, you had to rely on capturing the Japanese writings on your phone and have the texts translated via an app. Not to mention having to stroll down the aisles endlessly looking for a particular thing.

He showed you the ramen cups of interest as well as recommended some face masks, cleansing tissues, and sweet treats, especially matcha flavoured. “This good,” he pointed out.

You hummed curiously and put them all in your basket. “Thanks, Yuta. You’re a lifesaver.”

His ears perked up at the thought of him ‘saving your life’ and smiled proudly.

- ❀ -

[Memory five]

“You sure you’re doing it right?” you asked worriedly.

Getting lost in Japan was not on your to-do list. But it was fine to as long as you weren’t alone.

Yuta was trying to figure out how to get the tickets printed at the Kyoto Station. “Long time,” he chuckled nervously.

Going around Kyoto was apparently something he hadn’t done in a while being an Osaka man. You shrugged, “Looks like this will be an experience for both of us,” you joked.

He managed to have gotten the right tickets and you two sat in the train side by side. “Kyoto pretty,” he commented. “Very good,” he added with thumbs up.

The train began moving and you by the window made sure to pay attention to the scenery.

“Wow! The cherry blossoms are so beautiful under the blue sky,” you chatted cheerfully. “And those houses look so pretty,” you gushed, getting anime vibes from how neighbourhoods looked in them.

Yuta watched you getting excited over the sceneries, and was pleased to show you something that wasn’t on your itinerary in the first place.

- ❀ -

[Memory six]

Yuta watched you closely as you licked the matcha soft serve in hand.

You let the cold cream swirl around your tongue and hummed. “Wow, this is nice!”

He beamed, squealing as he clapped his hands from the happiness. “Yes,” he exclaimed. “My favourite,” he pointed to your cone.

The cream got stuck in your throat and you choked a little. His eyes grew concerned and asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah yeah, don’t worry. It’s just... you look so cute when you get happy like that,” you spoke a little shy.

He blushed deeply and looked away, a smile threatening to tug at his lips from hearing you call him cute.

- ❀ -

[Memory seven]

Ferris wheel.

The perfect way to end your trip by looking out into the nighttime view of Yuta’s hometown.

He sat across from you as you curiously looked at every lighting in the city. “Wow, it’s all so really beautiful, Yuta,” you breathed out.

His smile wasn’t his usual one. It was more forced, almost sad and you noticed it.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook out of his thoughts and said, “Nothing. Um... you like Japan?”

A fond smile took over your features. “Yes, very much. It’s all thanks to you, Yuta.” Your heart started aching at the memories made during your trip. If it weren’t for him, you would have struggled to get through with the littlest things.

He hummed and gave you a courteous smile before fixing his eyes out the transparent windows of the cart, silently willing himself to not tear up in front of you.

- ❀ -

[Memory eight]

Tears threatened to spill out of your eyes as you became emotional and super grateful standing in front of your personal Japan tour guide for one last time at the airport.

“Thank you so much for all your help, Yuta. It was really nice meeting you,” you smiled sorrowfully. Truth being told, you were sad that you had to say goodbye to an amazing friend made on your beautiful journey. “Let’s keep in touch. You have my contact, right?”

He nodded. “Yes. Um Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Yuta dug his hand inside his pocket and pulled out a cherry blossom keychain. “For you,” he said, holding it out for to take.

You were speechless, not expecting a gift from him. “For me? Why?”

He was quiet for a moment before speaking up. “I like you.” His confession caught you by surprise. “I hope you come back. I... I hope we still talk...” he trailed off, doubting himself if he said the right thing at the wrong time, considering it was minutes before you’d have to catch your flight.

Slowly, your head nodded to his words, confirming them all. “We will. We will keep in touch, I’ll come back again. And I like you too,” you spoke sincerely with soft eyes.

- ❀ -

You reminisced the beautiful memories made in Japan with Yuta. It had been almost a year and the two of you were in frequent touch, talking about anything and everything in your video calls. You even learned some Japanese while he worked on improving his English.

While your eyes were focused on glancing at all the people sitting in the cafe, the door chimed open and in walked the Japanese boy that you had been waiting forever to see again.

He spotted you immediately and made a straight beeline towards you. “Y/N!” He beamed excitedly. “I’m so happy to see you again!”

You laughed at his cuteness. “Same, and you’ve gotten better speaking English.”

“All thanks to my beautiful English teacher,” he flirted boldly.

You rolled your eyes playfully at him and asked, “So Yuta, are you ready to explore my country?”

#cznnet #nct #nct 127 #yuta #nakamoto yuta #nct yuta #yuta x reader #nct x reader #yuta fluff #yuta scenarios #yuta imagines #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct imagines #charm

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casifer-is-king · 3 years

Text

Private Investigator

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x fem!reader

Rated: T

Warnings: some language, infidelity.

A/N: This is my first piece of writing in like five years.... I'm gonna warn everyone right now that this is probably not great hahaha. But it was impossible for me to get this idea out of my head and once I started writing it just kind of kept going.... And since it's all written out now, I might as well post it. So if you read this, thank you so very much 🥺💜 This is cross posted on AO3 under my username BlondiMarie.

You always gave your husband the benefit of the doubt. Even when all of your friends warned you about their suspicions. So, when it came down to you telling them you weren't going to confront him about anything without proof, they took it to heart and got planning.

That is how you found yourself in a crowded coffee shop during the lunch rush. Your two best friends, Ashley and Erin, sit across from you as you all wait for the Private Investigator that they had found who knows where. Supposedly, though, he was very qualified. And prompt, you noted, as the man you assumed was here to meet you walked up to your table three minutes before the appointed time.

"You must be my 12:30 meeting?" he asks."I'm Frankie Morales."

"It's nice to meet you," Ashley speaks up, then goes around introducing you all.

Frankie shakes hands with each of you before taking the empty seat next to you. In the crowded room, his chair is set close to your side and you can feel the heat of his body next to yours. He's definitely a cute guy you notice, in a rough, outdoorsy kind of way. His hair curls out from under a worn baseball cap and his facial hair is scruffy, but kept short with a patch along his jaw that doesn't seem to grow.

“So how can I help you ladies?” he asks.

“Well it's really for our friend here,” Erin states, gesturing to you. “It's her husband. We are pretty certain he's cheating on her.”

Frankie glances over at you. “Pretty certain, huh?” he asks as the waitress brings a cup of coffee over and places it in front of him. You find yourself suddenly distracted as he tears open two sugar packets with long, deft fingers, then picks up the spoon to stir it in.

Realizing that he's probably waiting for an answer, you feel yourself blush faintly. “They are pretty certain. I just want to be sure either way. I don't have any specific proof that he's cheating,” you say, finally tearing your eyes away from his hands. He's thoughtlessly twisting the spoon between his index finger and thumb. It's somehow entrancing, the way his fingers move.

“But he's definitely pretty shady,” Ashley steps in. “Suddenly he's working long hours at work, coming home late from the bars and claiming he's with his friends. Plus when is the last time he even took you out?”

The question is pointed at you, but you ignore it by looking into your tea cup instead. It had been months since the two of you had gone on a real date. It's something you both enjoyed a lot in the early years of your relationship - going out to a new restaurant every weekend and ordering three course meals just for the fun of it.

"Yeah, I see this shit all the time," he assures, saving you from having to answer. "If he's doing anything he shouldn't be, I'll find out."

Your friends and him discuss his rates and when payment is due before they rush off, both having to get back to work.

"Did you have to get going too?" Frankie asks you when it's just the two of you left at the table.

"Not yet," you reply.

"That's good." He ducks his head a little so you can't see his eyes anymore, "I was wondering if I could ask a few more questions. Like about your husband's schedule and where he likes to spend his time."

“Of course. He works at an architecture company downtown. It used to be a Monday through Friday, 8 to 5 type of job. But the past few months he's been working late, sometimes he's even going in on Saturdays. Says it's some big project and he's expecting a promotion by the end of it.”

Frankie takes note of your husband's workplace on one of the tiny napkins. When he sees that you're watching him, he ducks his eyes from view again. “Forgot my notebook,” he says sheepishly.

You crack a smile at his embarrassment, but don't say anything, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable. You continue on like nothing happened. “He goes out with his friends a lot, but he's always been that way. I stopped going with him a while ago. He said it brings their team spirit down when he always has to explain the game to me.”

“Not big into sports?” Frankie asks, and you can detect a bit of teasing in his tone.

“Not even a little bit,” you laugh openly.

Frankie makes a little bullet point on his napkin and writes, ‘X sports,’ on it. “Any specific places your husband goes to watch the games?”

“Usually Sally's, over on 7th street,” you provide.

“Yeah, I know it. They do the karaoke after the game,” Frankie states nonchalantly.

“Yes! That's why we agreed on that bar. I'm a sucker for bad karaoke,” you laugh.

“You should see my friend Pope after he gets a few drinks in him,” Frankie chuckled. “Man can't even sing when he's sober, let alone drunk off his ass.”

“Those are just the best performances, though,” you say with a smile.

“It's definitely something,” Frankie nods with a snort.

Your phone chimes an alarm, alerting you off your next meeting you need to get to. "I'm sorry, I actually do have to go now," you apologize, actually feeling sorry that you had to leave this conversation. Frankie is easy to talk to, and an attentive listener.

"Oh, right. Well maybe I could get your number? Ya know, just in case I have any other questions as I go?" Frankie asks quietly, dipping his head again and fiddling with his long-empty coffee cup.

"Of course!" You agree readily, taking his offered phone and adding your details into his contacts. "And thank you again for doing this. It may end up being nothing, but my friends are very overzealous."

"It's not a problem. Just doing my job. I'll let you know what I come up with either way," Frankie replies with a small smile.

As you walk out together, he holds the door open for you and your turn to him once you both come out onto the sidewalk. "Does it often end up ending well? For people you've looked into in the past..." you ask.

Frankie squints a little and his eyes show flecks of warm caramel in the sunshine. "Not often," he replies finally.

You nod, your heart dropping faintly. His honesty is appreciated though, so you grace him with a small smile. "Thank you again."

You don't hear from Frankie for the next few days, but you do think of him. Especially any time your husband does something that makes your gut do that little tug of dread.

It's five days later that you get a text.

Game night tonight. Did your husband happen to say if he was going out? Frankie asks.

You reply maybe a bit too quickly, of course he is. He's leaving here soon to meet up with the guys.

You feel a little less self conscious when it's barely a second later and Frankie is already typing back. Well let's hope that's where he'll actually be.

He'd never miss a game XD, you reply. Sports are like religion to those guys. So you get to just go to the bar and watch them watch the game? Sounds fun hah.

No one ever said it was a glamorous job, Frankie sends back. But it's always a perk when I can drink and watch some football while I'm at it.

You send back some laughing emojis, and set your phone down to heat up some dinner.

Your husband sweeps through the kitchen, grabbing his keys and jacket. “I'm meeting the guys now,” he says.

“Ok, have a good time,” you reply, turning to face him. He nods, pulling on a hat. “I love you.”

“You too,” he replies briskly, dropping a faint kiss on your forehead and walking out the door.

You sigh, plating your food and wandering back to the living room to watch something on TV while you ate.

Your phone flashes a notification and you look down to see Frankie had sent another text.

How have you been doing? He asks.

As well as can be expected, you text back.

Try not to stress too much. I'll let you know if I find anything out, he replies.

It makes you smile, even if you know there's no way you'll stop stressing at this point.

The weeks went by and texts from Frankie became more frequent. He'd ask a few questions about your husband, then branch off into asking about your day. Those conversations then opened up to you both telling stories about your jobs, which would lead to talking about other aspects of your life. You talked a lot about your pasts - he tells you about how he grew up, some funny and interesting stories from his time in Delta Force, and about his best friend's MMA fights.

You tell him about your family, tell him stories about all the ridiculous people you come across at your job, and do a lot of venting about your crumbling marriage and husband.

You feel bad every time you bring it up, but it's always so much easier to talk to Frankie than it is even Ashley and Erin. At least with him, each of your concerns weren't met with a look of pity and “I told you so,” retort.

The marriage has been spiraling for several months now, and maybe hiring a private investigator was the push you needed to really bring the issues to light. You noticed more often when your husband chose to spend nights out “with the guys” and when he'd go into the other room to check his phone. And when you finally point out the lack of time he spends with you anymore, he gets automatically defensive.

You felt alone in your relationship and it was starting to make you feel bitter. He was definitely hiding something, and you trusted that Frankie would find out for you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frankie had been working this job for a few weeks now. He'd worked a ton of infidelity investigations since he'd lost his pilot license and finally got clean. But this one was different. He wasn't sure what drew him to her, but he couldn't help but want to know her.

Was it professional to text your client every day asking her if Sally from the overnight shift left a pile of work behind for her to deal with for the fourth day in a row? Probably not. But that didn't stop him from trying to glean any little piece of information about her that he could.

He kept it friendly, though, trying not to cross farther from that line between client and something more. But she was a sweet woman, and she had seemed so quiet at that first meeting in the coffee shop. And sad. Like she didn't want to get caught up in the things her friends were saying, but somewhere deep down knew what they were saying was true.

And, dammit, Frankie always had a soft spot for sweet, sad women.

Which is why he is spending his seventh night in a row sitting in his car across the street from her husband's workplace. During their earlier conversation she had mentioned that her husband claimed he was working late tonight. But in the weeks that Frankie had been on this case, the man never worked late once.

Right on time, his target exited the building. He was not alone this time, though, having his arm around a brunette that Frankie recognized as one of his co-workers that he had gone to lunch with a couple times.

Frankie snapped a few pictures of them together, the target’s arm pulling the brunette closer than appropriate, in Frankie's opinion. They both got into his car and Frankie began to follow behind.

Just as they parked at some restaurant across town, Frankie's phone rings and Benny's name lights up the screen.

“Hey,” Frankie greets.

“Dude, where are you?” Benny asks, his voice pitched a bit higher than usual.

“I'm working,” Frankie replied, keeping a close watch as his target is sat conveniently at a window table.

“Come on, Fish, it's Friday night! Will and I are already at the bar drinking.”

Frankie checks the clock and scoffs a bit when he sees it's only 1830. “Sorry, Benny, but I have to work late tonight.”

“You make your own hours. Isn't that why you chose that damned job? So you can decide when you do and don't work. So just decide you can't work tonight and get your ass over here!” Benny all but whines. “What's the deal with this case, Fish? I thought it was a simple cheating husband. You're not usually so obsessive over these ones.”

And leave it to Benny to call him out on his abnormal behavior. “I'm gonna close this case tonight, I have a feeling. Sorry, brother, but I'll see you tomorrow afternoon for practice,” Frankie placates his best friend.

“Sure, ok man. See ya then,” Benny finally gives in.

It's another boring hour of staring at his target before they are finally on the move again. Back to what Frankie assumes is the brunette's house, where they both go inside and Frankie adjusts himself in his seat to find a comfy position for the foreseeable future.

It's another two hours later when the door finally opens and Frankie scrambles to get his camera up, keeping his head down. He hopes for a little luck and is rewarded when both parties enter the doorway and embrace with a final, passionate kiss.

Frankie's camera keeps clicking away, even as his anger continues to rise. He has to hold himself back from throwing himself out of the car and punching his target in the face. He wants to know why her husband would bother with another woman when he has her at home waiting. Wants to know why her husband would throw away everything he has with the sweet woman who was so trusting at the start of all this. But that would definitely be crossing a line, and Frankie has never felt the need to go that far before. So he reins himself and waits until the target has driven away and the brunette has closed the door behind her, before he drives home himself to develop the pictures and complete his paperwork.

Developing pictures at home can be time consuming, but Frankie usually finds comfort in the task. It's a hobby he took up to distract himself from his cravings, and the darkroom usually brings him comfort after particularly stressful days. Tonight, though, watching these images fade onto the photo paper, he is angry. He knows this news is going to crush her, regardless of her suspicions. And while this is usually the case with clients, Frankie isn't sure that he could handle it if you broke down in front of him as some women have in the past.

He's learned so much about her in the past few weeks, from her favorite color to her favorite song when she was 10, and all of these things have endeared her to him in a way no other person has before. And he's opened up to her in return; in a way he hasn't any other woman in his past. But she makes it easy.

It's late when Frankie has finished compiling the file, so he decides not to text her yet and strips down for bed and drifts off, hoping for at least a few hours of restful, dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You got a text from Frankie late the next morning, hey, dulzura. What are your plans today?

Finally my day off lol, you text back.

Think you could pencil me into your busy schedule? Say in an hour?

Frankie had yet to schedule another meeting, opting to ask any questions he had between texts about their days. With a sinking feeling, you quickly type out, definitely. How about the same café as before?

Sounds good. I'll see you then.

You got ready with a sense of dread. You knew that this meant Frankie had found something. There was that small chance that he came up with nothing in these past few weeks, but the more realistic side of you knew how this would end.

The drive to the coffee shop was short, and the parking lot was thankfully much less crowded than last time. Walking in, you spotted Frankie right away at the same table by the windows. You placed your order before heading over to the table. He was stirring a cup of coffee again, but quickly turned his whole focus toward you as you sag across from him.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Frankie asked. “Your friends couldn't make it?”

“I'm good. It's nice to see you again,” you answered. “I actually didn't tell them. I kinda wanted to find out the truth privately. I'll tell them as soon as I've processed whatever you have to tell me. I'm assuming that's why you wanted to meet? You found what we were looking for?”

Frankie's hand moves to the back of his neck as he gives a slow nod. He pulls a yellow envelope from the chair next to him and places it on the table between you. “Yeah. I have some pictures here.”

You begin to reach out, but stop short before touching the folder. You know if you look now, in the middle of this café, you'll just break down when you see the proof of your husband's affair.

“Please just tell me,” you implore, eyes looking up, but not quite reaching his.

Frankie is quiet for a moment, studying you with his chocolate eyes. Finally he lets out a short sigh and responds, “Andrew's having an affair with a coworker. Looks like it's been around five months.”

The news hits you directly in the chest. It makes it hard to breathe. Knowing it was likely that he was cheating and having picture proof of it are two different things. You feel like it shouldn't hurt this much, but can't help the way your body collapses into itself.

“I know it's not the news you wanted,” Frankie starts, but you cut him off.

“No, but it's what I needed to know. So thank you. I appreciate all the work you put into it. I'm really sorry, but Ashley just went out of town and she won't be back for two weeks. I can get Erin's half of your fee, then get the rest as soon as Ash is back.” You quickly switch to the business end of the meeting, hoping to delay having to come to terms with this new information.

Frankie looks a little whiplashed at the sudden change in topic, but catches up quickly. “It's really not a big deal. I'm not too worried about two weeks. How about we just meet up again once you all have everything together. No stress.”

His hands are fiddling with his coffee cup again, and you focus on them as one index finger absently caresses the handle of the cup, the thumb of his other hand moving up and down the opposite side of it. You're caught off guard again by the movement of his fingers. It's sensual, how his large hands and long fingers massage the warm ceramic.

You're distracted from your observation of those hands when the barista sets your to-go tea in front of you. Finally looking up again, you see Frankie's brows have pinched together, forming a little worry line between them.

“I'll get it to you as soon as possible,” you finally fall back into conversation.

“That's fine. Really, don't stress about it,” Frankie reiterates.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask softly after a brief pause.

“Of course, hermosa.”

“Why did you become a private investigator?”

The question catches Frankie off guard for a second time; you can tell by the subtle widening of his eyes followed by a brief knitting of his brows. Then he quickly hides his eyes behind the bill of his baseball cap, feigning stirring his coffee a couple times. Not used to being able to see his face when the two of you have conversations, you realized he's actually quite expressive. He must know it too, because you note his hidden eyes as something you'd seen him do the first time you met him.

“You don't have to tell me,” you extended a way out for him, noting his sudden discomfort.

“No, it's fine. Um, remember when I told you before how I moved on from being a pilot to this?” At your nod, Frankie continued on slowly, like he was forming each word in his head twice before speaking it. “Well, it was less that I moved on and more that I lost my license. Uh, addiction issues. I know how that sounds! But I swear I'm clean now and -”

You can sense Frankie spiraling, so you impulsively reach out and place one of your hands on his large one. “You don't have to plead your case with me, Frankie. I'm not judging you.”

Frankie freezes momentarily, then relaxes. You feel one of his long fingers twitch on the tabletop under yours and quickly remove your hand. There's a little sigh from him before he continues, “well, anyway, this was kinda just something that fell in my lap. My friend, Ironhead, works with enlisted still and heard it's pretty easy to get into if you have the background and patience for sittin’ around and waiting. Well, I had the experience with my past in Delta Force, figured the patients would come along as I go. Never did like surveillance gigs.”

The last sentence seems like an afterthought, but you catch the mild disdain in his voice and it makes you smile to see the man in front of you sounding so petulant. “Ok, but Ironhead is an interesting name,” you comment.

Frankie huffed a laugh. “His call-sign actually. Most of us had one on my squad.”

“Oh really? And what was yours?”

“Catfish,” Frankie responds immediately.

“Catfish?” You repeat. “Where did that one come from?” you laugh a little bit.

“And that's a story for a different day,” Frankie responds with a laugh of his own.

After another small pause, your eyes drift back down to the inconspicuous envelope sitting on the table in front of you. With another small smile and a nod, you reach for the envelope. “I better get going. Lots of errands to get through on my day off.” It's a lie, but you figure a swift exit is necessary in this moment.

Frankie nods, then shifts his hat to run a hand through his already messy curls. Hat back in place, he stands and gestures that he'll walk you out.

Back outside, in the bright afternoon sun, Frankie looks down at you as he walks you all the way to your car. His eyes are caramel again, but they hold a bit of something akin to sadness in them. He drops his head, those eyes disappearing behind the bill of his cap, and slides his hands into his pockets, shoulders curving inward. “I really am sorry,” he begins. “I had hoped it would be different this time. You deserve better than some cabrón who can't see that he already has something great right in front of him.”

Frankie sounds so sincere that it stops you short. You look up at him as he peeks from under his hat. His mouth is twisted into a frown under his mustache. And that's all it takes for your eyes to begin to fill with tears.

In an instant, Frankie's arms are around you. He doesn't hesitate to pull you into a loose hug. One you could easily step away from if you had the care to do so. Instead, you step forward and accept the comfort. In a second, his arms close around you tighter and you're wrapped in his warmth, face pressed into his brown jacket. Trying not to fall apart right here in the parking lot, you catalog how his arms feel around you, and how warm his chest is.

His jacket smells like an auto garage, faintly like oil, but his shirt underneath smells woodsy - probably whatever cologne he sprayed on this morning - and, underneath that, clean like fresh linen. It's a comforting scent, and you breathe it in for a second longer than probably necessary before you finally lean back. He drops his arms immediately and takes half a step back.

“I am so sorry,” you apologize instantly.

“No, don't be. You have no reason to be. Just, um, get home safe ok?” That worry line is present between his eyes again. “Text me when you get home.”

“I'll be ok,” you assure him. You climb into your car and allow him to close the door gently for you. He steps back and gives a tiny wave before he turns and walks over to his own truck.

The drive home is a bit of a blur. You call Erin and Ashley on the way to tell them the news. Erin is instantly in her car and on her way over. “We are gonna change the locks and have ourselves a movie night,” she proclaims.

Ashley frets over not being there, but you assure her you're okay and she should enjoy her vacation. You only called because she'd freak if you told Erin before her.

Erin gets to your house 30 minutes later with a box of cheap wine and a bag full of snacks. You talk her out of changing the locks, but it doesn't matter either way because when you text Andrew to tell him you're having a girls night he tells you he's going to be out late anyway and not to wait up.

Your heart drops the way it always does when you suspect a lie. This time, though, it's not just speculation. You have the proof right in front of you, in an unopened manila envelope partially covered in chip bags.

“So is that them?” Erin speaks, noticing your gaze on the offending envelope.

“I guess so. Pictures and proof of my husband's affair with some front desk girl at his office.” Your tone is mild, but you feel a pressure building behind your eyes once more and that crushing weight settling over your sternum.

“Have you looked yet?” Erin asked.

“Nope.”

“Are you gonna?”

“We can open them together,” you suggest.

But before she can answer, your phone beeps to alert you that you got a new text message.

Hey, bonita, is everything ok? You never texted me… You safe?

His words bring a small smile to your face. Frankie always has a way of making you feel like he truly cares. Checking in often, but never overstepping into being overbearing. It's a warm welcome compared to the icy breeze of you and your husband's cohabitation of the same home, but never really living together.

You type out, yes. Sorry. Erin insisted on a girls night, and hit send.

That's good. Did she bring the salsa verde doritos?

Your smile grows at the mention of your favorite chips. Of course he'd remember something as silly as that. Frankie had a knack for remembering little details. Things you sometimes even forgot to had ever mentioned he would bring up weeks later in a random conversation. It's probably just a Frankie Morales thing, but it still always made you feel just a little special that he remembered such details.

“What has you suddenly shining like the sun?” Erin questions with a raised eyebrow.

“Nothing,” you know you're blushing, but you try to play it cool. “Just Frankie checking in. Making sure you're taking care of me.”

“Um, of course I'm taking care of you! Who else is gonna do it?” Erin jokes, pushing your shoulder teasingly. “Unless Mr. Morales was trying to volunteer for the job?”

“He's just being kind,” you roll your eyes at Erin's implication. “He's been very supportive through this whole thing.”

“Supportive, huh? And what kind of support might he be offering?” In a swift motion your phone is suddenly in your best friends hands and she's danced off to the other side of the room. Ignoring your protests and attempts to claim back your property, she starts swiping through weeks of conversation between you and Frankie. “Holy shit! Have you two even stopped talking since you met?”

“Come on, Erin,” you beg, “he’s just been asking for more information for his investigation and making sure I'm okay.”

“Two days ago you told him about the goldfish you got in college that died within the week. Was that pertinent information to his investigation?”

Seizing an opportunity, you snatched your phone back, clutching it to your chest. “Shouldn't you be trying to cheer me up?”

“Looks like your new bestie Frankie should be here instead,” she snarks with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh shut it and pour me some wine,” you reply with an exaggerated eye roll.

While your friend is busy you quickly type out a response to Frankie. She's pretty much the worst. Brought bbq instead even though she knows I hate them.

Frankie's reply is quick, or maybe that's why she brought them. So she wouldn't have to share with you, avara.

I don't know what you just called me, but I know I'm offended.

Frankie's reply is a long string of laughing emojis.

With the photos forgotten, you let Erin put on some 80’s movie and tried your best to enjoy the night. The envelope would still be there tomorrow, so for tonight you just relax.

It will probably be the last time you'll be able to in a while anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frankie hasn't heard from her in a few days. She doesn't text as often and it doesn't feel like his place to bother her.

Today, though, he woke up late after being out late on a surveillance job to a text from her. I'm kicking him out. I can't stand to live here with him anymore. I just want him gone and out of my life.

Squinting down at the bright screen if his phone, Frankie replies, is there anything I can do for you, bonita?

Recommend me a great divorce lawyer? Is her response. He knows it's sarcasm, but he shoots her a list of a few lawyers he knows of and trusts anyway.

Frankie was glad she wasn't going to stick around with the bastard. He'd seen that enough times to know it never works out anyway, and always makes things worse in the end.

You're amazing Frankie. Thank you for everything. I also have your payment in full btw. Do you have time this weekend to meet and grab it?

You really don't need to thank me, dulzura. I just want to help. This Sunday is good for me. At the café?

Her reply takes a little longer this time, so Frankie finally drags himself out of bed. A quick look at the time tells him he barely has time for a shower before he has to meet Ironhead and Benny for their planned fishing trip. Once Frankie is back, she had finally replied with a simple, yes.

She had rarely been short in her texts before, and it made Frankie's stomach sink a little. Shooting off a quick, let me know if there's anything you need, he pockets the phone and heads out.

A few more days pass with minimal texts. Frankie makes a point to text at least once a day. Maybe it's intrusive, but she never complains about it. And, if he's honest with himself, he misses her too much to stop now.

He realizes that she has become a fixture in his life. Going from texting multiple times throughout the day to barely a good morning text over his morning coffee makes him twitchy and he feels like he's always wondering what she's doing.

Sunday finally comes and Frankie is at the café ten minutes early, ready to finally see her in person. Ready to hold a conversation with her, even if only for a moment. But the ten minutes pass, then another ten and his leg starts to bounce under the table. She's never been late before, and Frankie checks his phone for a 20th time to make sure she hasn't texted to tell him she's had a change of plans. He decides to shoot her a text himself to make sure she didn't forget about their meeting.

Twenty more minutes with no response to his text and Frankie is back in his truck. He's already talked himself out of driving to her house and just knocking on the door several times. But as his truck rumbles to life and he exits the parking lot, he ends up turning left instead of right. Going to her house would be viewed as crossing some line in Frankie's eyes. He's never gone to a clients home without invitation before. Generally it's best to go about as if you don't even have that information, just to keep people from getting creeped out.

Frankie justifies his actions now by telling himself he just needs to see that she's okay. That her not showing up is abnormal and thus deserving of investigation.

When he pulls up to the curb across from her house, he notes the two cars in the driveway. His heart drops as he sees that one of them is her husband’s, parked neatly behind hers. Frankie knows she had told him she was kicking Andrew out, but his heart drops as he realizes maybe she had reconciled with him and he moved back. Frankie wonders if that's why she had been so distant lately.

He's about to just pull away when he notices the front door open and there she is. She has her arms full of boxes which she unceremoniously drops onto the sidewalk outside. She looks frazzled, but unharmed, Frankie takes a mental note. But she's yelling back into the house, her face red with anger.

Andrew shows himself in that moment, coming outside to scream something in her face. In the next moment, he's grabbing her roughly by the arm and trying to force her back into the house.

Frankie is out of his truck before he really has time to think. He's across the street and reaching them with quick, efficient steps in only a moment, which causes a pause in the fighting for a second. Frankie takes advantage of their confusion to gently pull her away from Andrew's loosened grip and moving her so that he is between the fighting couple.

Andrew, for his part, still has a look of surprise that has rendered him frozen in his spot. Whether that's from the way Frankie had barged into the situation or the pure anger that is radiating off Frankie's body, it's hard to say. But it gives Frankie the window he needs to pull back his fist and firmly plant it into Andrew's nose. Frankie hears the snap and feels the familiar give of a nose breaking under his knuckles.

“Get the fuck out of here,” he growls. “And I suggest not coming back around. Don't come near her, don't call her, don't even think about her.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once Andrew has run off, finally taking the remainder of his belongings with him, you're left alone with an angry Frankie, his fists still clenched and his shoulders tense.

Honestly, he's sexy as hell and you definitely notice. Anybody would be blind not to, you think to yourself.

You usher him inside, through to your kitchen, and pour two glasses of whiskey, sliding one over to him.

“I'm sorry I barged in,” Frankie apologizes after he takes a large gulp of his drink. “I didn't hear from you today and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Shit, your money! I am so sorry.”

“It's fine, hermosa. I'm not worried about the money. I was worried about you.”

His declaration freezes both of you for a moment, before you lift your own cup to your lips and take a sizable sip.

“He was supposed to come by while I was out today, but he showed up early. I guess he's been trying to get ahold of me,” you finally break the silence.

“You guess?” Frankie repeats back.

“Well, I blocked his number cuz I got tired of his constant calls and texts. He thinks I'm being irrational and we should work this out. But I've also heard that he's been staying with his side piece ever since I kicked him out, so….”

Frankie shoots back the rest of his alcohol. “I can get you paperwork for a restraining order,” he offers.

You smile at that because of course Frankie would offer you more help. “I think you already did enough for me,” you reply.

Frankie's hand goes to the back of his neck and his head dips low, “I shouldn't have hit him. That's just gonna cause you more trouble.”

“Don't worry about that,” you chastise gently. “He got what was coming to him and he knows it. It's just that, you have done a lot for me in general these past few weeks. A lot more than I think I can pay you back for.” Speaking of which, you turn to your purse on the counter, digging through it to pull out the check written out to Frankie.

“Maybe you can pay me back with dinner,” Frankie aims for nonchalants.

It draws a breathy laugh from your throat. “It would take a lot of dinners to cover your fee.”

“Well, we could start with one and see where it goes from there.”

✨✨Part 2✨✨

#triple frontier #triple frontier imagine #pi!frankie #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales x you #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader

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writingsfromhome · 3 years

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Bad Timing III

A/N: Okay. This one has it all: action, betrayal, confessions, concussions (again), snark, and an ending that is neither happy nor sad, or maybe you make it what you want it to be :) This was so different from anything I’ve written and I want to say thank you everyone for reading it and motivating me to continue loll

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

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I’m surprised to find Harry on my doorstep this early on a Wednesday morning. At first, I think he’d cracked the case. But he looks like he’d just rolled out of bed, a stubble roughening his usual freshly shaved face. He didn’t look like he had good news.

“You look rough,” I comment. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” he blows his cheeks out with a breath. “Ab-so-lutely nothing, literally. I’m hitting a dead end with your case and I feel like shit about it.”

“So...you’ve decided to knock on my door at quarter to 8 and? Discuss the case with me?”

“Well I...not exactly.”

“Did you want to come in? Maybe go through some more of my private boxes?” I ask. I was being petty, making him feel uncomfortable. But I also wanted to just put it out there, so it didn’t hang above us like the rest of our past. The last thing I wanted from him was pity, so if I had to make him feel guilty instead I would own that.

He blushes, just like I knew he would. “M’sorry about that,” he mumbles, looking appropriately self-conscious. “I could do with a coffee if you have some?”

“You look like you need one but...I’ve got to head out soon.”

“I’ll give you a ride in,” he offers. “I...we can just talk about the case. This can be professional.”

My laugh is brittle as I open the door to let him in, like a stray I knew I would regret. “Nothing about this is professional.”

He walks right in through to my kitchen--he knew where it was by now. I put on another pot and the awkward silence settles in. This was exactly how my friends described interactions with their exes, I guess I was truly living the life of a divorcee and it was all very mundane.

“So, did you have a guest over?” He asks. I raise an eyebrow and he motions to the two cups sitting on the table.

I roll my eyes and pick them up, “Great observation skills, Detective.”

“It’s my job,” he rolls with the sarcasm, cracking the ice we’d found ourselves in again. He takes a seat at the table and begins, “So the group that hit your bank hit up two more in the last week.”

“Two?” I was shocked. So many victims, I almost want to make a Bank Heist Survivor Group for us.

“Yeah,” he accepts the cup I pour for him. I sit across him with my second of the morning. The first I had drank with an on-and-off again guy I’d been seeing for the last few months--Alec. I never really let myself get serious with him, afraid to get hurt I guess. I knew he liked me, and he was good to me, but I didn’t want to make any commitments. This morning was the first time I let him stay for breakfast...after that letter it felt like something changed in me.

The letter...Harry...I focus back on his words as I realise he was talking to me, “...last one they’ve actually put someone in hospital--the ICU. If she doesn’t make it, it becomes homicide and-”

“Homicide?” Once again, I’m shocked. These people were really terrorizing the banks, and the police had no leads. Or at least that’s how Harry made it seem: “Any leads?”

“Um, I probably shouldn’t say-”

“So that’s a no.”

He looks up sharply before a small embarrassed smile softens his gaze. “Nothing serious.”

“That sounds like a load of useless shite you lot are doing at the station. Three banks and you’ve got nothing?”

He avoids answering, taking a sip of his coffee. “There are some leads, but the group’s really good. I just--I feel like there’s something staring me right in the face but I can’t see it.”

“What’s new?” I raise an eyebrow. He lets out a short laugh, shaking his head as he busies himself with the coffee. “What? I’m not joking.”

“This,” he gestures to me. “This snarky Y/N is a bit of an adjustment. I know you like your sarcasm, I just haven’t had it directed at me in a while.”

I cross my arms, maybe I needed to dose up my attitude so he knew I was 100% serious. When he catches on, he sets his cup down. “They’ve hit your bank up first yeah? I feel like there’s a reason for that, some personal connection maybe? Have you guys turned down anyone for a loan or anything recently? Someone that might want to target your bank first?”

“I’d have to check,” my mind begins to go over anyone we’ve had come in recently with issues.

“Oh!” He jumps in his seat. “The client you were meant to see--did you talk to him? I was going to ask you when you came to pick up the evidence but...”

“I was too busy to go.” I finish his sentence for him. “It’s weird actually, I called and got voicemail. I also emailed to apologise and reschedule but his office is away, I only get automated replies that they’re out of office or something.”

Harry pulls out the notebook he uses and asks me to write down their information, I was sure I’d written it down for him already but I write it a second time. I push the notebook back towards him, and he places his hand on top of mine instead of taking it back from me. I freeze, his large hand familiar and yet, heavier than I remembered.

“What are you doing,” I ask.

“I...want to apologise. For the other day.”

“Please let go of me,” I stare at his hand on mine.

“If I can just say-”

“Let go,” I say, slower. He clears his throat and removes his hand.

I pick up my mug, and move to the sink. Harry realises he’d overstayed his welcome and gets back up, throwing his jacket over his arm and hovering at the edge of the kitchen.

“Thanks for the coffee,” he says awkwardly. “And letting me think out loud. Should I um, wait outside?”

I remember I’d forgone getting to work on time on my own for his coffee and case updates. Fuck, this was going to be awkward. “Sure, I’ll just grab my things.”

He waits on my front stoop, talking on his phone and once he’s done we walk silently to his car when I join him. The silence in the car is deafening. I watch his hand twitch to the radio but he rests it back onto the steering wheel without turning it on. After a few more moments of silence, he speaks up.

“So uh, did you want to ask me about what you brought up...the day you came to pick up the evidence? You said you had questions?”

“Are you serious?” I look at him, incredulous. He really was incredibly thick if he thought I wanted to have this conversation now, after this morning.

“What? I’m just trying to make conversation and you’re the one that wanted to talk about it so-”

“Have I not made it crystal clear that I only want to talk to you about the case? What makes you think that’s a good topic right now?”

He shrugs, and I once again pray that the other people on his team were smarter than him because if he was the lead, my case was going nowhere.

“Can I just ask one question?” He tries again. I almost want to slam my hands on the dashboard but I sigh through gritted teeth instead and tell him he could. “Did you...ever actually read the letter? Last week...you sounded sort of surprised when I mentioned it.”

“I...” I consider lying. but I go for the truth which is a change for us. “I didn’t.”

“Oh,” he sounds dejected.

“I read it last weekend.”

“Oh,” he says again, slightly hopeful. “But this whole time...you didn’t know?”

“That’s another question.” I didn’t want to go into what I thought of him this whole time. “I only agreed to one question.”

“Fair enough,” he taps the steering wheel. We’d managed to get stuck in some traffic. “So that box I sort of looked into the other day...”

“I said no to more questions, Harry.”

“That wasn’t a question,” he says, neatly catching me in his trap. I glare at him, but his cheeky smile tells me he was slightly enjoying pushing my buttons. I make a mental note to never accept a ride from my ex-husband ever again.

We fall silent, and the letter plays through my mind again, I’d reread it a few times before I tucked it into my bookshelf. I’d decided after that, to take The Box and tape it up. I wrote my sister’s address and left it by my front door to mail out when I had the chance. It was time I let it go, I realized. My sister was having her third child, and I was so happy for her. I had people who loved me, and people I loved. I realised that I was holding on to the box and it was just torturing myself. I had enough torturous things in my life, I didn’t need to be one of them.

It feels like forever until Harry pulls up to the curb down the street from my building. I thank him properly, not wanting to be a complete bitch.

But as I walk around to the sidewalk, he calls my name. I turn back to him standing outside his car with his hand outstretched.

“You forgot this,” he holds out my umbrella. I sigh and go back to take it from him but he holds onto it.

“Are you going to let me have it?” I tug again.

“Yes,” he lets go and I have to balance myself on my back leg. “Thanks for taking me in this morning. And for the coffee...you didn’t have to, yet you did.”

“Don’t read into it detective,” I scowl. “It was purely to get more insight on the case.”

“Right,” he smirks.

“But since you had no insights, it was a waste of time.”

“Don’t say that so loud,” he hisses. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“I’m not telling the people something they don’t already know.”

He narrows his eyes and grins, and my heart skips a beat. It was a familiar look, he used to look at me like that all the time. And I realise that maybe I’d just been flirting with him a little, albeit aggressively but...I drop my smile into a neutral expression. He notices the change and drops his own grin.

“I spoke to my supervisor and I’m going to set up in an empty room if that’s alright. I wanted to interview some of your staff, see if they had any clients who might want revenge by-”

“You’re coming in today?” I feel like he’d just pulled some sleight of hand trick on me, driving me to work only to come in with me. “I don’t know if my staff wants to talk.”

“It’s an investigation, they all agreed to further questioning when they gave their statements Y/N, I’m not going to be invasive. You won’t even notice I’m there.”

“I have no choice do I?” I turn around and begin walking up the street. He follows me in.

And surprisingly, I barely notice him in the empty conference room until after lunch when he comes in to tell me he would be back later, that he had to drop by the station for something his evidence team found.

I make a few rounds to my staff, make sure Harry didn’t disrupt their peace. That they were still okay after talking about the thieves. Being on the floor, my eyes continue to dart to the door, eyeing each of the customers.

I lock myself in my office for the last hour, channeling the nervous energy to get work done. It’s a few minutes before closing that I get the email. I rush to open it: the client I was meant to see finally responded.

Good afternoon Ms. Y/L/N,

We apologise for the delay in our response, our offices have been closed for the last week blah blah blah. We’re very sorry to hear about the events that occurred in your bank. As a loyal client, we would like to extend our sympathy...

I skip to what I needed to know:

To respond to your inquiry about the meeting we had scheduled, there doesn’t look to be anything on our end. I’ve spoken to the advisor personally, he had a flight out of the city that exact date so he wouldn’t have booked a meeting at the same time. I think this could be an error on your end but do let us know if there’s anything we can provide to help...

I sit back from my screen, my thoughts racing. I read it again to be sure and bury my face in my hands. I read it a third time to be sure.

Adam had specifically told me the meeting was at 10am sharp, the client threatened to switch banks if I didn’t attend. But if they never booked it...I actually had no reason to be there.

Except I was the only one who had access to the vault.

I stand up in a rush, this was an inside job! Someone I worked with knew who robbed this bank, they worked with them! Harry was right, the truth was staring at us and it was so obvious!

I take out my phone and text Harry: call me, the client for Thursday just got back to me...he wasn’t in the city that day? I think about adding more, but I didn’t want to freak him out. This could be a big misunderstanding, and I didn’t want him to come here only for it to be nothing. I place my phone on my desk and take a few deep breaths to calm myself down.

I walk out of my office, most of my staff had cleared for the day. Two of them deal with the last customers, but my eyes are searching for Adam. I had to ask him more about this client phone call, what number had they called from? Was he sure it was from the correct offices?

But Adam is nowhere to be found, which was weird because he worked until 5pm.

I move to the staff room, but stop in my tracks when a familiar voice chills me to the bone. I knew the voice, it was the same distinct voice that haunted my thoughts for the last two weeks.

I peek around the corner, Adam and a muscled bloke stand right outside the staff room. My shock catches itself in my throat as my heart plummets; the inside man--it was Adam. Adam had betrayed us all. Shy, awkward Adam. Suddenly I remember all of his jumpy behaviours since the robbery, and all his questions about security before. I just thought he was trying to learn more about the bank. Little did I know...my blood boils but I have to put aside my own feelings of betrayal when the conversation grows louder. I strain to hear.

“The phone and the fucking card are missing, you better not be the reason we’re found out!” The muscled guy with the voice jams his finger into Adam’s chest. Adam looks scared shitless.

“I swear, I looked through the evidence they returned. I-I gave you the phone back! They haven’t said anything-”

“But that one detective was sniffing around here this morning? That’s why you texted me right? What did you tell him huh?”

“I didn’t say anything, he hasn’t even talked to me I-”

“That’s right. Make something up, a crazy customer from the day before some shite like that. If you even look suspicious to him, I’m going to come over to your flat for a nice dinner and invite my friend with me.”

My eyes bug out when I see him shift his jacket to reveal the hilt of a gun. Fuck!

I reach down for my phone but I don’t have it, double fuck, I think. I left it on my desk after texting Harry. I was an idiot, a big big idiot.

I try to soften my footsteps as I walk away from the staff room but the conversation must have ended because their footsteps echo on the tiled floor. I push into the nearest door and lay flat against the wall inside. I’m so focused on listening for their voices that I don’t realise I stepped into the men’s room.

“-before I leave..” to my horror, their voices stop right outside the room I’m in. I look around and realise I was in the men’s room. My instinct is to hide in a stall but this was a one-toilet bathroom, there was absolutely nowhere to go.

In slow motion, the door in front of me opens and the muscled, gun-owning guy looks right at me. It feels like a Western showdown as we lock eyes and freeze.

“Hey...Adam,” the guy calls out to Adam who must’ve been behind him. Adam peers around his shoulder and tenses when he notices me. “She’s in the men’s room! Isn’t that weird?”

“I-Y/N...she usually uses the men’s room.” Adam tries to cover for me but my deer-in the headlights expression is enough to give away that I knew who he was. I was trapped in here like prey. Adam lowers his voice, “C’mon, just leave her here and go-”

“She’s seen my face though,” He steps in and I inch into the corner.

“Look, I can forget your face. We can pretend this never happened please, I really really don’t want to die in a men’s room.”

Tattoo laughs, untucking his gun from his waistband. “I don’t believe you. Adam, get some tape so we can tie her up. I don’t want blood on my hands but if you make any noise, I’m painting this room fucking red.”

I keep my mouth shut, and nod. I’m reliving the worst day of my life all over again as I stare at the barrel of the gun. A small part of me wonders how my life could hang in the balance of this man’s fingers, twice, but I stay silent.

“There’s nobody here, everyone’s gone home.” Adam says, more to me. Tattoo pushes me against the tiled walls and pats me down roughly. I protest but he pushes the gun against my skull and I fall silent. Adam tries to step in, offering to make sure I didn’t have anything on me like my phone but I was stupid enough not to have it on me. His friend steps into the hall and makes a call, I assume to his crew.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Adam’s voice breaks as he pats me down gently. I turn to him, with tears in my eyes. I was scared, and I needed Adam to get help. “Adam please, please don’t do this. Whoever he is, the police can protect you I-”

“He’s my cousin Y/N, you don’t understand he will kill me if I go against him. It’s complicated--my family’s complicated. I’m not like them. Y/N I’m so sorry I swear he...” he falls silent as his cousin comes back in. Adam makes a show of taping my hands and legs. I try to whisper, beg him to try but Tattoo notices and shoves me against the tiles. I think I black out for a second because the next moment, he’s pressing tape down over my mouth. I feel the panic I’d kept at bay blow up in full force, along with an ache in my temples. My breathing comes out short and I squeeze my eyes shut so I wouldn’t cry. I was going to die in a men’s restroom; this was what my miserable life had culminated to.

I remember the text to Harry then, maybe he’ll come. With backup. Maybe he’ll save the day for once. And I think about security, they surely noticed I never left the building, maybe they’ll go looking for me.

But my hopes are dashed when a woman comes in, I recognise her voice as the one who’d pushed me into putting the code into the vault.

“The side door was unlocked,” she tells Tattoo. She notices me and smirks, “It’s like you want your bank to be robbed. Who leaves the side door open after hours?”

She laughs and turns back to Tattoo, tells him that the guards were down and the place was officially locked up. They bring Adam in, and check with him that he knew where I kept my passwords, that he could clear out any money still left at this time of the day. I don’t hold back then, my tears flow silently down my cheeks as I watch them all leave me in the dark. If the police still hadn’t arrived, I really was going to die here like this. I don’t know when, but I pass out, and when I come to again I’m being pulled up aggressively while a familiar voice shouts at the people dragging me. Was that Harry?

H’s POV:

The one time I leave my phone in my car, I miss the most important text of my entire career--my entire life.

Around 2:30, the evidence team calls me, there was a breakthrough on the phone and card from the scene. A few numbers, but they were still trying to process the application for the records. I decided I couldn’t sit around and wait so I drive to the station and rush inside, leaving my phone behind.

It’s a waste of time though, the number leads to a burner that leads to a local shop that leads to a credit card. And that leads to a warrant which could take hours. Two hours later and I’m frustrated and moody. I decide to get some fresh air, and check my phone but reaching for my pocket I realise it wasn’t there.

I head to my car and find it between the seats. When I turn it on, Y/N’s name stands out and her text pushes me to my feet and into my car. I call her three times on my way to the bank but it keeps ringing. Fuck, I think. What if something happened to her? How was it that it was now a second time I was rushing to where she worked, afraid for her life.

I pull up the closest parking spot I can find to see security locking up. I rush to knock on the door but he only glances me, points to the closed sign, and walks away disinterested. I was in plainclothes today so he must have thought I was a customer. I reach for my badge to show him, and realise I’d left that in my jacket in my car. I couldn’t get anything fucking right today. I bang on the door but he ignores me, and the people outside begin to stare at me.

“I’m a detective,” I try to reassure them but they hurry past. It was stupid but I squint to see if anyone was inside, but there’s not a single soul. I see movement cast a shadow at the very end of the room but I can’t see anything with the way the glass is positioned. I center myself at the front again but the security is gone--I was going to have to find another way in.

I move around the big block of a building, looking high and low for another entrance into the building but the next shop over is a cafe so I double back and try the other way. A wooden door sits between the bank and the purses crowded in the store window on the other side. I try the door but it’s locked. Of course.

I go back to my car and find my lock pick kit, picking up my badge was a good idea. Within minutes, I’m in and a sterile hall greets me. I try the door on the left, but notice the keypad. After some bad guesses, I consider who set this: Y/N. I try her birthdate, her family’s birthdates--as close as i could remember. My feet tap against the tile rhythmically when the door knob turns right in front of my eyes. I dash to the side and huddle in front of the next door, rattling my keys as if I were trying to get in. Luckily, that door is unlocked and it’s a utility closet. I rush inside and peek through the crack; a man comes out and holds the door open while a woman opens the door I just came in from.

“It was unlocked,” she says skeptically.

“Shite security, just come in. When’s Russ getting here? He’s always the bloody last of us anywhere.”

Something was very wrong, I realize. But I don’t have time to think, I jump out of my hiding spot and manage to slide my hand into the closing door. I nearly crush my fingers but I nudge the door back open and slip into the bank.

The area’s clear, I move in to investigate. It’s only when I move from the hidden passage to the main lobby that the weight of the situation dawns on me. A different man wraps the security’s hand behind his back and pushes him against the wall. Push was nicer than what it looked like, he practically drags the guard into the wall.

My shoes squeaks on the floor and he looks up sharply, eyeing the area I was peeking out from. I crouch down, next to the trash bin and wait for his footsteps to leave. When I peer around the corner again, a familiar face paces behind the desks. Adam, I think it was, Y/N’s assistant.

It becomes clear in an instant, like a timelapse of a foggy night clearing into a bright blue sky. It was right in front of my face: Y/N’s assistant. The one who’d asked her to come in for a made-up appointment, the one who knew her exact schedule, the one who was jumpy and nervous every time I spoke with him. I thought he was just a shy kid but...he’d betrayed Y/N and been the inside man for these robberies.

I take my phone out, ready to text someone for backup but voices coming my way forces me to stop what I was doing. I press myself against the wall, trying to make myself smaller.

“I think she’s knocked out-”

“Don’t hurt her,” That was Adam. I recognised his cowardly voice. “We wouldn’t have gotten this far without her just, leave her in the bathroom. We can take everything and go.”

“You don’t have a say what goes on around here,” the woman says to him. “Your puny arse is why that detective was sniffing around here anyway.”

“She’s seen all our faces,” one of the guys says. “I’ll do it after you go.”

“She won’t remember, please.” Adam tries again. “Leave the charges at robbery, don’t add murder. She’s my boss I...”

The blood rushes to my head: his boss. Y/N was here, and they were casually talking about killing her? I take my phone out just as it begins to vibrate. I jump and manage to stop it in time, but my badge--the one thing I’d taken from my car purposely, clangs against the metal trash can.

Footsteps rush towards me and I stand up with my hands up, “Backup’s on the way, I suggest you lot put down-” they were all pointing guns at me. Bollocks. “your weapons.”

“That’s the fucking detective,” the one I’d seen tying up security waves his gun at me and I try not to panic. I wasn’t involved with a lot of guns, just the wounds they left in victims. I listen to him swear, “Backup yeah? I don’t hear shit. How did you even get in here?”

“I told you, the door was unlocked. The security here is shite.” The woman says, eyeing me. “I say we tie him up with the bitch and skip out now.”

“We haven’t even taken everything, this idiot doesn’t know the passcode-”

“I told you it changes every week. She must have changed it today.”

“Adam, how could you?” I speak up and all eyes-and guns-are back on me. Adam opens his mouth like a fish out of water but nothing comes out, I watch as he squirms and his group moves closer to me.

“Phone,” the one with tattoos points to the device in my hand. “Check his phone, if he called backup it would be on it.

I curse, they were smart. They’d robbed three banks after this and hadn’t left much behind--I should’ve known to be better prepared.

Someone takes my phone, another comes around and shoves the gun in my back which forces me to walk out into the lobby. They go through my phone and snicker at something. type something in and then toss the phone in the trash can beside us. I balk at the sound it makes when it crashes; the gun in my back pushes me forward and I’m forced to walk down the lobby, through a door and up to the men’s room.

“Wake the bitch up,” one of them men speak behind me. “Tie this one up and get her to open the safe with the new code.”

I knew I was outnumbered, they push me through the door and Y/N’s body is curled in one corner. The freshly pressed clothing from this morning are rumpled around her frame and she looks unconscious. The one who tied up security tapes my hands around my back and pushes me beside the sink.

“Don’t touch her!” I struggle against the arms who hold me back as the tattooed guy hauls her up and slaps her face.

“Wake up, it’s show time.” he shakes her. I push against the body pressing me down as they take Y/N out of the room. Her eyes flutter open and catch mine before she’s dragged out.

“I swear if you guys touch her I’ll snap your neck in half,” I can’t stop the panic turning into rage. “She-”

“Are you sleeping with her or something? Shut the fuck up.” The woman kicks the back of my knees and I fall, hitting my head as I crash down on my knees. She closes the door behind her.

I don’t know how much time passes but it feels like hours. The next time the doors open, they shove Y/N inside and she stumbles. I jump up to help her but with both of our hands behind our backs I accidentally lurch forward and her head bumps off chest.

“God! Harry!” She winces. “Way to hit the one part of my body that already feels like it’s going to explode.”

“Y/N,” I steady her with my chest and lean down to look at her. “Are you alright? Did they do anything to you?”

“Other than terrify, harass, and manhandle me? Oh, and give me another concussion...hm...”

“Here,” I motion with my chin. “Turn around, I’m going to get this tape off of you and you help me.”

She does as I say and I use the sharp edge of the ring I wore to make a small tear.

“Holy shit that’s better,” she shakes her hands out and gets to work on mine. As soon as my hands are free I try the door, there was a slim chance but we were in a restroom. I had to try. But it’s locked. Y/N speaks up from behind me: “They lock from the outside if you have the key--they probably got it from security. I don’t know who I angered in a past life but this is some shitty karma.”

“There’s got to be a way out of this room,” I wasn’t about to give up.

“There isn’t. But shouldn’t there be, like, backup coming?” Y/N takes a seat against the wall, watching me explore every inch of the tiny room.

“I...no. They took my phone before I could-”

“You came here without telling anyone? Even after the text I sent?” She shoots daggers at me.

“Well your text wasn’t exactly screaming danger!”

“I really have no fucking clue how you got your position Harry, surely anyone else would not be this dense.”

“I’m trying to find us a way out of here, this isn’t my fault! And anyway, it is your assistant that’s set this all up,” I say defensively.

“Sure know how to pick the men in my life, don’t I?” She says, but quieter. Seeing her bruised and hopeless there fuels me to look harder for a way our but after a frantic search, there really wasn’t anything in this place. No window, no vent big enough, nothing to pick the lock. I find a first aid that’s mostly empty, but there’s still an ice pack, tape, and painkillers inside. I crack the ice pack and hand it to Y/N who takes it silently, and then I slump down against the wall opposite Y/N and hang my head.

“What do you reckon they’re doing out there?” she asks.

“They were going to clean the place out and skip town.”

“Do you think we’re gonna die here?” she asks, her voice wobbly like she was about to cry. “Don’t. Don’t look at me like that, I’m just...asking.”

I look away from her face, her expression crumbling under my light scrutiny. She sniffs. Without looking at her I say “We’re not dying here. I told my guys to call me when they have something, and if they can’t reach me it’ll be suspicious enough to followup at least.”

“By the time they grow suspicious enough to track you, we’ll be dead. I’ve not got much faith in your team.” Y/N crosses her arms. Even under these circumstances, she’s fierce.

“They’re close to a breakthrough. It was them calling me that got me caught out there actually. Not even the call itself...my bloody badge clanged against the--it doesn’t matter anyway. But they must have something, they’ll be here soon. We won’t die in here.”

I felt more than hopeless stuck here. Out of the two of us, I was supposed to be the one who could make their way out of this type of situation. Months of training and years of experience, and here I sat stuck in a bathroom with the woman I gave up on.

“What a way to go,” she sighs. “In the bloody loo.”

I want to go over and put my arm around her, maybe I needed the comfort more than she did. But based on the way she crosses her arm and keeps her legs up I know she’s guarding herself. I could read the signs. So we sit there silently for who knows how long. Every so often a muffled noise comes from outside, we hear a crash but the silence after doesn’t tell us whether the thieves had left or they were still around.

With Y/N going mute, I look around the room again but there’s still nothing. She slumps further to the floor, and I seat myself back down again. I stare at her, remembering the shape of her face under my hand, the curve of her hips when my fingers traced them. Her laugh, the way she liked to tease me. If I was dying here, and this was my life flashing before my eyes...I sure had missed out on a lot of it. And if the robbers decided to come in here, and put a bullet in each of us, what kind of person had I even been?

A new surge of energy goes through me, I take the slim door handle and try it again. I know it wasn’t going to open but I tug it, again and again. I brace my foot against the wall and try and try again. But it remains stubbornly closed.

Winded, I sit back down. Y/N just watches me silently as the hope officially leaves my body. We sit in silence.

“Are you happy?” she asks after a few minutes. I look over at her bruised forehead, she raises an eyebrow and immediately winces. I reach over--in the small space, even on opposite walls, she was an arm away. I guide her hand with the ice over the bruise.

“I don’t know,” I admit, leaning back against the wall. “Why?”

She shrugs, going silent. I stretch my legs out and she mimics me, finally letting down her guard as her legs rest beside mine. I give her another minute, and she responds. “Your letter, you said you left because you weren’t happy. So I’m just wondering...are you happy now?”

“If I said yes, would it make you feel better?”

“Well, it would make you falling in love with another woman and breaking my heart in the process a little easier to accept...it wouldn’t have been for nothing if you’re happy.”

“You sure have a lot of tact,” I sigh.

“We might die here?” she fixes me with an annoyed glare. “There’s no time for tact when I could get closure? Before I die?”

“We’re not dying in here,” I promise but she shrugs like she didn’t have much faith in me. And why should she?

“Don’t avoid the question: are you happy?”

I give myself a moment, taking in her face. I didn’t know how to answer that without the overwhelming shame and guilt choking me. In a way, yes. In others, no. I settle for, “Sometimes.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” she hits her foot into my knee. “Sometimes? You cheated on me, and dumped me for a sometimes?”

“Okay wait,” I stop her. “I want to get something straight, I never cheated on you--”

“You did! You fell for some woman a-and you literally married her not even a year after we split!”

“Y/N,” I grow serious. She had thought that this whole time that I... “That’s not how it-” I let out a breath, truly realising what she thought of me this whole time. “Y/N, I fell for someone, sure, but I never even went out with her before we split. Nothing happened! It just took falling for someone else to make me realise my heart wasn’t in it--with us. It made me see I wasn’t happy where I was. But I-I went on one date with that person after we split and it was awful. She avoided me at work after that.”

“What?” she furrows her brows. “So-so who the fuck did you marry?”

I almost laugh, but it would be so inappropriate. “Someone else I worked with-”

“Wow, Harry, you really know how to get around.” She crosses her arms.

“I never denied that--you knew me in uni.”

A small smile cracks her guard but she covers it with an eye roll. “That’s the only thing you’ve said all day that’s actually made sense.”

“It’s nice to see you smile,” I say which earns me a glare. I saw it coming, and that makes me smile. Her glare falters at my smile and she covers her face with the ice pack. I continue, feeling more confident to explain. “Anyway, it was this other person from work, we’d worked on a few files together and she was actually the one who asked me out when she found out I was single. I felt like I had a strong connection with her--to be honest I think I was just lonely and h-um,..y’know. Mistook that for a gem, and married her.”

“I always thought you married the woman you fell for. So you could have a baby.”

I have to laugh at that. “I didn’t want a baby that badly--with someone I barely knew at best.”

She shrugs, “Well we were so tumultuous after we found out our chances were low and you were such a bitch to me about that so what else was I to think?”

I feel like an arse all over again. “I was an idiot, a big fucking idiot Y/N.”

“When did you realise?” She leans forward. “Cuz I’ve known that for years now.”

I rub my face with my hand, she was never going to make this easy. “I thought having a kid would make me happy, make me feel complete; it was the missing thing in my life. So when I realised our chances were low, it just killed my hope of ever being happy. Honestly I think even if we got pregnant I would’ve still been unhappy. I was just...using that as an excuse to..break us apart. It was never about you, I was just too cowardly to admit that I was going to hurt you if I told you I wanted a divorce for the real reason: because I wasn’t happy.”

“So...you made me feel like a fuck-up for not being able to get pregnant instead?”

“I...yeah,” there was the waves of shame crashing into me, I was drowning in it. Y/N just sits there, I can feel the judgement and hurt rippling off of her as she pieces everything together. “I feel awful about that. You really didn’t deserve that.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Her tightened fists tell one story, but the tears pooling in her eyes tells a different one. I slide closer to her, crossing my legs in front of her. “There’s nothing I can say to even begin to apologise for that. I should have just been honest, told you I wasn’t happy in the relationship, in my job, where my life was heading. But I let you believe it was somehow your fault and I can never take that back.”

She continues to watch me, her mouth a tight line as she tries not to cry. But with a blink of her eyes, the tears are streaming down her face. I reach out to her, out of habit, but she shrinks away. So I move back to the opposite wall and watch miserably as she cries into her sleeves.

“I was still unhappy, after the other marriage.” The only thing I can do is continue, I didn’t want to watch her cry in silence. “It took me finding her flirting with another bloke at work to realise we were a farce. I split with her, quit my job a few weeks later, and it was only then I felt free. It was a good feeling; the closest to happiness I’d felt back then. And then I lived with my sister for a few weeks while I figured out my next steps. You should know she was fuming when she found out we split, she didn’t talk to me for weeks.”

Y/N had wipes her tears by now, and listens to me talking in silence. When I mention my sister, she smiles. “We talk, here and there. Never about you, but I still keep in touch with her. And your mum. We had dinner when they were in London last year, it was really nice.”

“What?” This was news to me. “They never mentioned it.”

“Obviously not,” a smile pulls at her mouth and I’ve never been more relieved to see it. “They like me better than you.”

“Ouch,” If we got out of this--when we got out of this, I had questions for my mum.

“So,” she traces a crease on her trouser. “you switched jobs? Found the right fit?”

“Yeah, I did really good there. Moved up quickly. I found something I was passionate about, and it felt good. I think I was happy until...recently.”

“What happened?”

A shout from the other side of the door gives us pause, the door bursts open and I quickly move to block Y/N. But someone pushes an unconscious body into the room with their hands tied. With three bodies in here, it’s suddenly overcrowded.

“If you say one more thing to me, I will put a bullet in his fucking head...” The conversation fades out as the door slams and they walk away. Y/N rushes past me to the body and turns it face up.

“Adam,” she gasps. I walk over and her assistant lays there with a black eye and bruises forming all over his face. She unties his gag and I make sure he’s breathing.

“He’s alright, Just unconscious.” I let her know as she pulls off her jacket and piles it under his head. “He is the one who let these people into your life, you remember that?”

She glares at me, “He didn’t have a choice Harry. I spoke to him when I gave him the code--one of them’s his cousin. He said they were going to break in one way or another and if he didn’t help they would shoot him and me during the process.”

“He had plenty of time to tell you after the fact-”

“Have a little compassion,” she throws her hands up. “He didn’t ask to have a fucking criminal family. Just, let’s wait for him to wake up. He’s been through a lot.”

“So have we,” I mumble but she doesn’t acknowledge me. She moves to her wall instead, putting her hand to her head.

“Let me see,” I slide myself towards her and move her hand away from the area. I pick up the ice she abandoned on the floor and hold it to her head but she snatches it back, saying she could hold it herself, right before she pitches forward and passes out herself.

Y/N’s POV:

I wake up confused and groggy, only to see Harry’s face hovering above mine. For a second, I think that maybe I was living in a twisted Groundhog Day type of situation, forced to relive the bank heist until I resolved things with Harry. But then I notice his split lip and remember my life was that unlucky that I was in the same position twice.

“Jesus, you’re awake.” Harry lets go of my hand which he’d been holding.

“It’s actually just Y/N,” I try to crack a joke. It flies past his head, his eyebrows pinching together. He asks me if I remembered my name, where I was, and a dozen other questions even though I insist I was fine. I was laying down with my head in his lap, I realise halfway through the interrogation. But trying to get up made me dizzier so I stay. He shows me the paracetamol he found in the first aid and forces me to down two, and I only agree because my head had started pounding.

“Don’t do that to me again,” he pushes my hair back. I try not to focus on the warmth of his hand on my skin, how nice it felt. I was bloody delirious. “You have to stay awake Y/N, this is the second time you’ve hit your head I think your concussion might be more serious this time if you’re passing out--”

“Harry please,” I put my hand up to stop his rambling. “Your voice is hammering at my migraine.”

“Sorry,” he smooths down my hair again, and again, like it soothed him more than it soothed me. “I’m not used to feeling so useless like this. But there’s absolutely nothing in here that’s going to help us get out. All we can do is sit tight and wait for one of them to come back.”

“So finish your story,” I ask. “You said you were happy until recently. What happened.”

He looks at me skeptically but I insist I wanted to know. I was finally getting the full story, the closure that actually made sense. And I wanted all of it. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

“The box,” he says simply and I flinch because I know exactly what he’s talking about. “Well, seeing you and realizing-- this whole time it’s like, I’ve missed you in the peripheral y’know? And seeing you that day, forced me focus on how much I missed my...best friend. And after that, the box? I realized what I did to you...the impact of it? Maybe I was just daft this whole time for not really thinking about it but-”

“I was pregnant,” I blurt out. If I was going to die, I may as well tell him. “A few weeks before our...breakup. I found out. And I was going to tell you. I was-I was just so excited I’d bought some things prematurely. But then I lost the...baby. I’d just boxed the shite away after that. Carrying it with me...it hurt but I almost believed that I deserved it?”

I watch him swallow, from this angle I can see the muscles in his jaw clench. I reach up and my hand lands on his neck, I move it to rest on his chest where I intended. He looks down and I see the tears coat his lower lashes. I think I was half-drowsy from the pain meds but I want to cry with him, and wipe his tears. A distant part of my brain screams at me for being confused and slightly fucked up, but my medicated brain reach up to pat his face. My heart flutters when he closes his eyes and leans into my palm.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” He whispers.

“Would it have made a difference?” I ask, my eyes drifting shut. But he shakes me rudely and they fly open.

“Stay awake.” He insists. “And...it wouldn’t have made a difference but at least you wouldn’t be carrying it alone.”

“Well I’m not, anymore.” I yawn. “I told you, and you seen it. And m’gonna mail the box to my sister--she’s pregnant by the way. She might have better use for it.”

He eyes me, “How did that make you feel?”

“You’re not a bloody therapist,” I laugh. “Don’t ask me that.”

“I think I’d make a good therapist,” he says over-confidently.

“You’re the reason why I had a therapist,” I mumble. “You’d be an awful therapist. Your patients would need therapy from therapy.”

I laugh, it wasn’t even that funny but everything just felt ridiculous. Harry’s smiling down at me, but a loud crash from outside wipes it. His body tenses, and I watch the door.

“Sorry,” he whispers before gently moving my head off his lap and onto his jacket he’d bundled. He picks something up from beside him--the toilet seat.

“Why are you holding a toilet seat?” I whisper-shout. He puts his finger to his lips and crouches on the side of the door.

“You were passed out for a while, I had time to make a bit of a mess-”

He cuts his sentence short as the door opens and Adam’s cousin comes in swearing at Adam but before he can reach for him, Harry slams the toilet seat over the guy’s head. I watch it all sideways, my head feels too heavy to pick it up. The man crumples on top of Adam, and Harry expertly searches him, picking his gun off of him.

From outside, the woman’s voice come closer.

“What’s taking so long? The car’s outside just grab your stupid cousin let’s go! The cops will be here any min-”

She freezes when she comes face to face with the gun in Harry’s hand. She reaches for hers and in half a second, Harry’s fired his gun into her arm. She lets out a shout and falls to the floor. Harry kicks the gun out of her hand and pulls her inside, blood trailing in her wake. He uses the jacket under Adam’s head to tie her arms and comes back to me.

“Y/N, let’s go. I hear sirens.” Harry bends down and gently lifts me up. I feel like a ragdoll in his arms but I manage to prop myself enough to walk beside him. He closes the door behind him and checks the handle that it was locked.

He helps me down onto a chair, the brightness of the lobby nearly blinds me, my migraine tearing my skull apart. I think I throw up on the floor, I felt entirely out of it. I keep my eyes closed, but I hear Harry letting in some people, and I feel arms putting me on a stretcher, taking me out into the cool air. The fresh air smelled incredible, and that’s the last thought I have before I pass out.

***H’s POV:

It was a crazy 24 hours.

Right before I’d been shoved into a 7′ by 5′ restroom, my team at the station had received the warrant for the credit card. That was the call I received that put me in the tiny room with Y/N. When I didn’t pick up, Detective Cole had taken the lead in tracing it. The credit card belonged to Adam’s cousin and they eventually traced him to Adam. That was the smoking gun for them, they tried me a few times. Finally, tracking my car to outside the bank. Suspicious, they sent out a few uniforms here and when they noticed my car sitting empty, and no guard at the entrance, they called for backup.

I’d debriefed, spoken and written out in detail, what happened. They’d taken pictures, handcuffed everyone in the bathroom, and I’d watched triumphantly as they walked the criminals out. Two had escaped after hearing the sirens, but at least two would be put away.

I drink my third coffee at the station now, when my supervisor finally comes in to talk to me. Tells me I could go home, finally. To get rest--the paramedics had checked me out and I was okay considering what just happened.

But instead of going home, I drive straight to the hospital where Y/N lay like a shell of herself. A tall bloke in a perfectly pressed suits stands above her, brushing her cheek. I watch as she reaches up and holds his hand, I watch him pull her hand up and kiss it. Then he leans down and kisses her bandaged forehead.

My stomach is in knots; I can’t look away. It was the same person who left her flat just this morning--god, this morning felt like years ago. It must be her boyfriend, but she didn’t mention she was seeing someone. Maybe it was casual, I think. But casual wouldn’t come to hospital like this, caress her like that.

The obvious was that I was lucky just to have a glimpse of her in my life again, long enough to clear the air between us. But I couldn’t hold on to her, when I let go so many years ago, I’d lost my grip entirely. And now she was out of my grasp.

I knock gently on the door, Y/N’s boyfriend (?) looks up.

“Sorry, the doctor doesn’t want anyone taking her statement right now-”

“I’m not-” I unclip my badge to show that I wasn’t there for my job. At the same time Y/N rests her hand on his arm.

“Alec,” she says in a hoarse voice. “It’s alright, that’s Harry.”

“Oh,” I can read everything in the two-letter word and the look he gives me. He seems to swallow what he really wanted to say and comes up to me to shake my hand instead. “Thanks, for helping Y/N tonight.”

“I didn’t do anything,” I grasp his hand, he had a strong handshake. Which was a stupid thing to think about I realise, as my eyes land on Y/N. She’s looking at him with a purity in her eyes that she used to look at me with. Something inside of me falls away, it feels raw and dark. I remove my hand from his, “Y/N’s a strong woman.”

“She is,” he looks at her with the same look she gives him. I felt like I should go, like I was interrupting them. But Y/N asks him to give us some space. He happily obliges, like I wasn’t even a threat to him. With what Y/N told him, everything she knew to be the truth before tonight, I didn’t blame him.

“Hi,” she says, she clears her throat, watching me watching her.

“How are you feeling?” I brush her hair back from the bandage on her head.

“Like there’s a rock concert in my head,” she jokes. “Except it’s mostly screaming.”

“Kind of like that one party we went to in uni,” I remind her.

“I thought the party’s theme was emo,” a laugh bursts out of her.

“It was screamo,” I laugh with her. “My ears were bleeding the next morning.”

“You crashed in my bed that night,” she remembers, her voice soft as the nostalgia washes over us. I take her hand in mine and brush my thumb over her knuckles. How times changed.

“You know, my girlfriend broke up with me that day when she found out I shared a bed with another girl.”

“Really?” She laughs again, twice in one conversation with me. She must be high on meds, or finally letting me in again. “You never told me that.”

“I never told you much about the girls I dated,” I say truthfully. “A lot of them dumped me after seeing how close we were. There was always that ultimatum: you or them.”

“Hm,” she hums. “I guess you chose me until you didn’t.”

We lock eyes and I open my mouth--to apologise? To explain something? But she waves her hand. “It’s a habit, I’ve got to get all the one-liners I’ve kept pent up out. I’ll be done eventually, don’t worry.”

“I look forward to that day,” I drum my fingers against the bed. “In the meantime...Alec?”

“Oh,” her face flushes as she looks out the door to where he stands on his phone. “Yeah. He’s been...really good, he came over as soon as he heard.”

“How long?” It was torture for me but it was like I needed to know.

“A few months, on and off again. I think I’ve just been keeping him at arm’s length because...well...”

“Us,” Once again, I’m reminded that I could never fully grasp the enormity of the damage I’d done. “He seems like a smart chap--he’s here for you after all.”

“That would make you a smart chap too,” she says which brings my attention back to her cheeky smile. “If you want to compliment yourself, you don’t have to do it in such a roundabout way.”

I laugh, she was good. She grins back at me and my breath catches, this feeling in my chest made me feel like I was drowning. I couldn’t breathe deeply enough, the old fear of being unhappy had been creeping up on me ever since I got here and saw Alec with Y/N. Now it drapes over my shoulders like a heavy coat.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asks.

“Nothing,” I sit on the edge of the bed. “Just thinking about everything that happened. And what we talked about.”

“I’m glad that we...” she picks at the thin blanket covering her body. “I feel like I have some closure now?”

“I wish I knew...what you thought this whole time. The baby and...everything.”

“I’ve got a long way to go but,” Y/N rubs my arm. “Let’s just agree to leave all the heavy stuff behind. And live our lives to the fullest. Almost dying in a men’s room has really given me perspective. We both deserve to be happy.”

“You should write a book,” I joke. “It would sell.”

“We can co-write it.”

“We’ll title it Bad Timing,” I say. “A memoir of two people, right place, wrong time.”

“That’s good!” She grasps my arm. “And you could write the whole thing and just give me credit.”

“I’m okay with that,” I would do anything for her.

“You’re the writer after all,” she smiles and it strikes me again, how deeply she knew me. I don’t know if anyone would ever know me the way she does. “Do you still write?”

“Not really,” I didn’t at all.

“I was remembering the other day how you used to leave post-its all over my room-”

“I remember that,” I remind her of a few of my famous ones including one I stuck on her back that said kiss me. She scolds me for that and I pretend to be sorry but she knows I’m not.

“I am sorry,” I say, resting my hand on her arm and she understands I’m not talking about the prank.

“I know,” she looks away, out the door to Alec.

“So I should go, maybe I’ll be the one to take your statement? Tomorrow--or I’ll have my best officer come in here for it.”

“You should take a day off,” she says. “We almost died today.”

“You’re one to talk,” I say. “And we were not going to die today. You’re so dramatic.” I flick her knee and she flinches.

“Ouch,” she milks her current position in the hospital bed, rubbing the spot on her knee.

“Did that hurt? I don’t remember any knee injuries in your file.” I lean down over her and pat it extra hard.

“You’re evil,” she grins but for a small second her eyes flicker down to my lips, and when they meet mine again they look uncertain.

“Alright. Rest up. I’ll see you...later.” I lean down, my lips ghost her cheek, and I hear her sigh. “Goodbye Y/N,” I say, and somewhere it feels final. I don’t dare look at her when I stand up. I walk out of the room, and out of her life.

I think back to the one other time I saw her before the bank robbery. It was outside a grocer, and she’d told me to never talk to her again. I was glad the universe or whatever hadn’t listened, that our lives had crashed into each other even though that meant that in the end she was left in hospital and I was left unhappy again, realizing what I was missing in life. But for a brief moment, in the grand expanse of this universe, we orbited each other again.

As I nod at Alec on the way out. I stand to the side as he walks back in. I hear him comforting her, and I hear her tell him she had to talk in a low voice. I leave then, with every intention to leave her alone. She deserved this happiness she was finally finding as she put our past to rest, she didn’t need uncertainty. As for myself, it felt like it was my burden to bear now; Y/N and I just had bad timing, it felt like, but I just wanted her to be happy. So I let her be; I let go.

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littlerosetrove · 2 years

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911 rewatch, 1x2

Overall my hubs is still enjoying the show. He likes Bobby, says he’s nice and cool headed. Oh, and already he is side eyeing how uhhh cops do things in this show, based on this episode and the pilot. He said he doesn’t like when shows like this make it out as if the cop conduct is fine and normal; doesn’t like this false messaging. I agree and he’s in for a heck of a time if he continues to watch. 😶

My thoughts:

Feel more mixed this time around about Carla. I don’t… like how she kinda talks about and treats Buck as, like, a fun hot piece and that’s it. She assumed all firefighters are dogs, thus calling Buck a dog. And she knows Buck has a birthmark, but at one point referred to it as, “looking like he got punched in the face.” That’s just unnecessarily rude and kinda mean to say. Hell, even my husband, who usually doesn’t have a ton to say about shows/movies (he’s a casual watcher), was saying to Abby that she should stop listening to Carla.

I forgot the detail that Carla’s husband is a handyman?

Let’s all acknowledge or continue to acknowledge that Abby violated Bucks privacy by looking up his phone number. That’s not ok. 🙃

The therapist at some point is let go from working with/for the LAFD, but she should have her license taken away completely. Even before taking advantage of Buck - her client in a gross use of power - she had already crossed a line by friending him on Facebook. And yet she did not cancel the appointment with Buck knowing he was about to be her client. I just– hate it. And I hate how a couple times later in the show people poke fun at this situation with Buck. Like Buck is not at fault in any way in this situation, so I don’t like that it’s ever treated as a joke on any level.

I did like how, for now, Buck was like, “I’ve got issues, so I think just being friends right now is best” with Abby. Honestly the best thing to do.

What animal is Chimney not afraid of? xD

The mention of Buck trying out for the SEALS. He managed the physical part, had issues taking orders, but ultimately didn’t want to become a machine.

#911 rewatch #9-1-1 #911 s1 rewatch

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suituuup · 3 years

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pieces - chapter one

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca sees her again in the most unexpected place.

rating: M (drug abuse, mention of sexual abuse in later chapters) word count: 2,100

ao3 link

“Any messages, Gina?”

Beca Mitchell strode out of the elevator, high heels clicking on marble flooring on her way to her office.

Her assistant rushed to walk alongside her, notebook opened as she handed Beca her second coffee of the day, which Beca took with an appreciative smile.

“Mr. Mendes needs to push back his meeting to Thursday, and Mr. Hozier-Byrne is waiting for a call back, preferably before 2 as he’s five hours ahead.”

Beca rounded the corner to her office and dragged her leather desk chair back, shrugging off her woolen trench coat and draping it over the back. “Got it, remind me what I have planned today?”

“You’re having lunch with Mr. Zimmer at the Plaza to discuss Jesse’s project, and apart from the weekly team meeting at five, you’re expected at Edgy Reggie’s party from 10 pm at the Sapphire.”

A groan surfaced from Beca’s throat and her eyes slammed shut as she plopped down on her chair. “I forgot about that. Luke can’t go?”

Gina winced and shook her head. “Family dinner.”

“Family dinner, my ass. His whole family lives back in fucking England,” Beca muttered before she could help it, throwing her assistant an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Thanks, Gina. Hold my calls until ten, please?”

“Of course, Ms. Mitchell.”

As she did every morning while sipping her coffee, Beca listened to demos over the next hour, forwarding them to Luke if any of those yet-unknown artists spiked her interest enough to sign them into their label.

The rest of the day consisted of two meetings, a dozen calls, countless email exchanges, and not enough studio time. A thick blanket of darkness had veiled the city by the time she closed her laptop and called it a day. She stretched her neck and took a moment to gaze at the lit skyscrapers through her floor to ceiling windows, sighing softly.

It was sometimes weird to think about how this was her life. How the asocial, grumpy freshman from thirteen years ago had made it to the top of the music business and now co-owned one of the biggest labels throughout the country.

Scratch that, throughout the world.

Snapping out of her daze, Beca stood and slipped on her coat, plucking her phone off the desk to call herself a Lyft home. She had just about time to take a shower and eat dinner before heading to that stupid party.

Beca could think of a million things she’d rather be doing right now as she strode down the wet sidewalk towards the lit GIRLS red neon sign in the distance a couple of hours later.

She told herself one drink, an hour tops, then she could head home, put on her pajamas, and finish that true-crime TV show she started yesterday.

“Name?” A dude bulkier than the freaking Rock asked her as she made it to the club door.

“Um, Beca Mitchell. I’m Edgy Reggie’s producer.”

Her artist had privatized a strip-club for his celebration party over his album hitting Platinum, and Beca couldn’t not show up, as... well, he was an important client and brought her label the big bucks.

The guy checked his clipboard and nodded, hitching his thumb over his shoulder. “You’re good to go.”

Casting the bouncer a nod, Beca ducked inside the dimmed, crowded club, wincing at the crappy music heavily pumping through the speakers. Three girls in bikinis and heels stood on platforms, twisting their bodies around dancing poles as dozens of dudes reclined back in leather sofas, shamelessly ogling their forms.

Beca’s nose crinkled as she scanned the room for her artist.

“Yo, Beca!”

Her gaze snapped to the left corner, catching sight of Edgy Reggie (he didn’t want to change his stage name, no matter how much Beca insisted) waving her over.

“Hey,” she cast him a tight-lipped smile, tucking her straight hair behind her ears. She nodded at the other dudes sitting around the low table. “What’s up.”

“Guys, this is the girl behind the magic of my album,” Edgy Reggie explained, throwing an arm over her shoulders before Beca could squirm away. “She is fire. ”

Beca chuckled awkwardly, then pointed over her shoulder. “I’m gonna go get myself a drink.”

Maybe two come to think of it, so she could get herself through this.

She headed to the bar and ordered an old-fashioned, fishing in the inside of her coat pocket for her credit card.

“Thanks,” she muttered when the barmaid (also clad in a bikini that left very little to the imagination) came back with her drink, handing her her card just as the club’s speaker made an announcement.

“Ladies and Gentleman, please welcome to the stage… Ariel! ”

The crowd cheered and hooted, Beca glancing over her shoulder to see what all the fuss was about.

There was no amount of alcohol that could have prepared her for the scene unfolding before her.

There, on the main stage, strutted in a redhead, only wearing a silver g-string and high heels. Beca would have recognized that shade of hair anywhere, and while the lighting in the club was low, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that this girl -- Ariel -- was her former best friend.

Her former best friend who had dropped from the face of the Earth almost five years ago, without so much as an explanation. She hadn’t just stopped talking to Beca, but to all of them, even Aubrey. She was nowhere to be found on social media and when Beca had tried calling her after six months without news, she found out Chloe’s phone number had been disconnected. It wasn’t like they talked on a daily basis before that. After three years spent living on opposite sides of the country, the texts started coming further in between, their communication coming down to a few check-ins a year and on birthdays, until they eventually stopped.

Fearing the worst, Aubrey had called Chloe’s parents, who assured her she was fine, working as a vet in NYC and in a committed relationship. While relieved, the news stung Beca, as it was clear Chloe had deliberately ceased contact.

It took some time, but Beca eventually stopped thinking about her so much, especially when she started getting successful as a music producer and pouring her time and energy into her projects. She soon won her first Grammys, Gold, and Platinum records featured in notorious magazines and talk shows. She could stop working tomorrow and money wouldn’t become an issue, but Beca didn’t like to boast about her fortune, or fame, for that matter.

Despite being insanely busy, she still kept in touch with the other Bellas in their group chat, but she hadn’t seen any of them in a couple of years, missing the last reunion because of her job.

Beca’s mind steered back to the present, where the once most important person in her life was currently dancing for money. Men were staring hungrily at her as she sensually moved around the pole or bent over with her ass in the air to collect dollar bills from the floor, and Beca suddenly felt sick.

This couldn’t be her dream job, right? Something had to have happened for her to settle for this.

Beca grabbed her drink and knocked it back, flagging the barmaid down for another as her mind reeled as to what to do.

She needed to talk to Chloe. In private. Tonight, as soon as she finished… parading in front of these disgusting fuckboys. Only… she wasn’t sure Chloe wanted to talk to her.

“Hey,” she said when the barmaid came back as an idea struck. “How do I get a private lap dance with one of the girls?”

The girl raised a surprised eyebrow. “Backroom, hun. Who do you want?”

“Ariel.”

The platinum blonde let out a curt laugh. “Ariel doesn’t do lap dances, babe.”

Beca’s eyebrows knitted together in a heavy frown. “Why not?”

“Because she’s the boss’ favorite.”

Beca didn’t know what that meant exactly, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out as another wave of nausea swept over her insides. “Is your boss here tonight?”

The barmaid scanned the room quickly, nodding. “He’s the guy over there in the suit.”

“Thanks.” She took her drink and headed over to where the fifty-something dude was talking to another guy. Stepping up to them, she ignored their glares over her interrupting their conversation. “Hey. Are you the manager?”

The dude who looked like he ran a mafia mob turned a bit more towards her. “What’s this about?”

“How much for a private dance with Ariel?”

His gaze flickered over Beca’s shoulder towards the stage, then sized Beca up, unimpressed. “She’s not available, kid.”

Beca gritted her teeth at the condescending tone of his voice. “Not even for ten grand for twenty minutes?”

He slow-blinked, then burst out laughing. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m being serious. Ten grand, twenty minutes. Alone in a room, just the two of us.”

The man’s expression hardened. “And I said she’s not available .”

“Twenty grand.” Hell, she’d throw half a million on the table if that’s what was needed to talk to Chloe. After a beat, she added, “And no touching. That’s not what I’m here for.”

The manager seemed to consider her offer for a handful of seconds. “You got the money?”

Dammit. She couldn’t withdraw that much right now, she needed to call her bank. “Tomorrow night.”

He smirked, snickering. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He turned back to his buddy, leaving Beca grumbling under her breath as she turned around and stalked out of the club. She couldn’t stay. She couldn’t stand the sight of Chloe objectifying her body for money.

As soon as she got home, Beca fired up her computer and typed in Chloe’s name in her browser. Apart from old stuff on the Bellas, she found nothing relevant. Chloe appeared to still be MIA from any social media.

Beca grabbed her phone and scrolled through her contacts, bringing the device to her ear.

“What’s wrong?”

“How do you know something’s wrong?”

“We call each other twice a year on our respective birthdays and stick to the Bellas chat for the rest.”

Beca nibbled on her bottom lip. “I found Chloe.”

A long stretch of silence on the other end of the line followed. “What?”

“I saw her tonight, Aubrey.”

“Where??”

“At a strip club. She’s… a stripper.”

“What? Did you talk to her?”

“No. She was performing on stage. But I will. I’m… buying a lap dance from her tomorrow. I figured… she’ll have to listen to me since she’s being paid for it.” Her eyes slammed shut, scrunching up her nose. “I don’t know. It might be a bad idea, but-- I just wanna make sure she’s okay, you know?”

“Yes, of course. Keep me posted?”

“I will. Talk to you soon.”

Beca shuffled to bed after that, but sleep never came. Her mind kept reeling about Chloe, about what she might say to her once they were face to face, and the possibility that Chloe might shoot her down and refuse to talk to her.

She spent her Saturday trying and failing to make some progress on an ongoing project, willing time to tick faster so she could head back to the club. Mid-afternoon, she headed to the bank to withdraw twenty grand, tucking the envelope in her purse.

“Why does it feel like you’re doing something illegal, Beca?” She muttered to herself on her way out of the bank, slightly paranoid about carrying so much cash on her.

The club was just as crowded when she got there around 10 pm. A different girl danced on the main stage and the manager was nowhere in sight, so Beca perched herself on a stool at the bar, ordering herself another old-fashioned.

“Is your boss around?” She asked the barmaid, a different girl from last night.

“Who’s asking?”

“Tell him the person who wants Ariel is here.”

The girl’s eyebrows shot up at that but she didn’t say anything, nodding before strutting away. Beca sipped at her drink for the next twenty minutes, keeping her back to the stage.

The manager eventually appeared in her peripheral, and he leaned an elbow over the counter, lacing his fingers. “So what’s so special about Ariel?”

Beca slowly set her drink down and fished for the envelope, pushing it towards him while keeping her gaze straight ahead. “I like redheads.”

He plucked the envelope off the counter and peered inside. Twenty stacks of ten hundred dollar bills in exchange for twenty minutes with Chloe.

He nodded. “Follow me.”

Beca finished the rest of her drink, the alcohol managing to muffle her nerves some as she followed the manager towards the back of the club, and down a set of stairs. Her heart pumped hard in her ears and her palms started to sweat as she was led inside a dimly lit room with a handful of sofa chairs and a small stage with a dancing pole, some kind of music that seemed straight out of a porno carrying through the speakers. A spiral staircase was tucked in the right corner, and she guessed that is where the strippers made their entrance from.

Beca wondered how far things usually went in these kinds of private rooms.

She wondered how far Chloe went.

She cast the guy a tight-lipped smile and a nod before he closed the door, and paced the room for a little while, eventually lowering herself on one of the leather chairs and wiping her palms on her designer slacks.

The clicking of heels over metal made Beca’s spine snap straighter. She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder as the steps grew nearer, digging her nails into her thighs as a new round of nerves gripped her insides.

“Good evening, sweetheart,” the huskiness of Chloe’s voice made Beca swallow, and she felt a hand run over her shoulders as Chloe approached from behind.

Glancing up, Beca met familiar, ocean blues.

#bechloe #bechloe fic #bechloe fanfic #beca mitchell #chloe beale #pitch perfect #pieces

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desbianherstory · 4 years

Text

I don’t remember ever playing with dolls, although Barbie dolls were quite the rage then. Wearing skirts and dresses was always a struggle, and I used to fight with my mother when she wanted me to wear them. She could not understand why a 10-year-old was not interested in dolls or pretty frocks. I had short hair, loved stealing my brother’s clothes, wore flat shoes, and my aunts would say, ‘How unladylike.’ My brother would tease me and laugh when I was with my girlfriends; he called us ‘lesbians’ and ‘Sita aur Gita’. I would giggle right back, not understanding what his remarks meant. As I grew older, my attachment to women started bothering me. I started dating men; I would go out with them and sleep with them. I grew my hair and wore a salwar kameez every day. I wasn’t quite sure why I was doing all this; all I knew was that I did not want anyone to call me a ‘dyke’, a word that people would use quite often to tease me. Thankfully, this phase lasted only a year. But I regret my behaviour during this phase of my life; in fact, it has been my biggest regret. For instance, I did things like sleeping with men not because I was in love with them but because I was too afraid to see the truth: I was running away from myself.

I was 23 when I met my future partner, a client at my restaurant. The first time I met her, my heart raced, I was dizzy and I knew then that I had met my Waterloo. Soon after, I had to move to London for my work, while she continued to live in Delhi. I remember staying up every night aching for her. I did not know how to define what I felt for her; all I knew was that my phone bills nearly led me to bankruptcy! Finally, when we both mustered up enough courage to voice what we felt, it was like a dam of emotions had just burst open. I embraced what I felt, and found myself in a same-sex relationship. It was an unfamiliar sense of happiness, a sense of relief, a sense of freedom. We continued our long-distance relationship for three years. Then, I came back to Delhi to be with my beloved in 2000. And life changed. When I was living alone in London, we had the freedom to be ourselves with each other. Delhi, on the other hand, was a completely different story. Homosexuality was a criminal offence in India. We were not free to love each other. I always had to think if we were in a place safe enough to even hold hands. Could I call her ‘honey’ when we were in a store without getting any strange looks? I hoped that this reality would change in my lifetime, but it seemed impossible at the time.

Strangely, ‘lesbian’ has always been a dirty word. Our society is patriarchal and declaring yourself a lesbian is basically saying that you don’t need a man, and that goes against everything we have been taught. When my partner and I started living together in Delhi, we could hear a lot of whispering around us, well, behind our backs. I trained myself to rise above this. I was not going to let it bother me. But then came the time to face some practical problems, for example, when I took on a life insurance cover and wanted to name my partner as my beneficiary. I was not allowed to do that; only a spouse or blood relative could be a beneficiary, I was told. Then, we wanted to open a joint account for running our home but, oops, we couldn’t do that either. Over time, we owned many properties which belonged to us jointly, and ran our business together; yet, there were no clear methods to protect each other’s rights and assets. These were small issues that bothered me. Still, I was oblivious to the law and did not care about it; how did it matter to me? I was safe, living in my own world, where my friends and family accepted – and even celebrated – who I was.

In 2008, I was introduced to a group of lesbians by a friend. These women were involved in the first pride march in Delhi. They casually mentioned that it would be nice if I came and marched with them. A part of me wanted so badly to go, but another part of me was petrified. My partner was dead against it, but something in me just wanted to be a part of that march. I finally went with two straight friends, and loved it. Of course, the next day I was on the first page of the newspapers. Suddenly, all my colleagues at work looked at me differently. My partner was still not out, and she was very upset about her family and friends joining the dots. I had the media calling me – not to ask for my favourite recipe but to ask who I was sleeping with. I had never been closeted but, at the same time, I was not going around wearing a T-shirt saying: ‘I like women’. I was a chef who happened to be a lesbian, not a lesbian who happened to be a chef! I was stressed and upset; yet, at the same time, there was something in me that had woken up. I knew I had to do something, however small; I needed to do my bit.

In July 2009, the Delhi High Court passed a judgment decriminalising homosexuality. Suddenly, my restaurants were full of same-sex couples, no longer afraid. Between 2009 and 2013, I met more gay people than I had in my whole life, all was well, and over the next few years I forgot all about Section 377. In December 2013, however, the Supreme Court overruled the 2009 judgment. We were all criminals once again. All the happy same-sex couples who were out and about went deep into their closets once again. I was angry, helpless and frustrated.

One day in 2015, Menaka Guruswamy and I found ourselves on a flight back from Goa, and we started talking about Section 377. She suddenly asked me how I would feel about being a petitioner. I said yes right away, without giving it a second thought. I was very angry at that point in my life. On the one hand, I was being asked by the Government to come and receive various honours bestowed upon me for the work I was doing as a chef, and at the same time they were making me out to be a criminal. I felt terrible at this hypocritical charade. I could be arrested for just being me and wanting to love a woman. I could no longer sit on the fence – I really felt that I had to take a stand. My family and friends begged me not to do it. I turned to Ella, a dear friend – and now my partner – for advice. She was very blunt with me. ‘You have been moaning and complaining about the law in the country for years, and now that the time has come… Either you do something about it, or don’t ever complain again.’ My decision was made. I am many things, but a coward I am not.

The next two years were strange for me. I had a constant barrage of nasty messages being posted on my Twitter account. Until then, I was only used to getting fan mail. I had the word ‘lesbian’ sprayed on my car window, a stone was hurled at me, a man spat at me at the Delhi airport in front of everyone… I was no longer the darling chef of the country but the dirty lesbian who had the cheek to file this petition. Yes, there were times when I regretted my decision, when I wondered if I had acted foolishly. The strange part was that after a few agonising hours of self-doubt, I always arrived at the same answer: I had done the right thing by filing the petition, and if I didn’t do anything I had no right to complain, like Ella had said to me.

6 September 2018: It was 6 am in London – where I was on work – when the judgment was read out in the Supreme Court of India. I was stunned, shocked and so happy that my jaw started hurting. When I had decided to file this petition, I truly did not believe that I would see a change happening in my lifetime. And on this day, two years after filing the petition, history was finally being rewritten. I am not an activist and never wanted to be one; yet for me this was my life’s biggest accomplishment and nothing else in my life till then had ever given me this sense of pride.

Ritu Dalmia, excerpted from Sex and the Supreme Court, ed. Saurabh Kirpal

#ritu dalmia #section 377 #history #Menaka Guruswamy #people #indian lesbians

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Text

Title: Lovebug (2/10)

Summary:

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 3 4 5

Notes: I was torn between publishing the next chapter of lovebug or outlier tonight so I opted to just go for lovebug. I'll post the next chapter of outlier mid next week. As always, feedback is very much appreciated.

“We’re gonna delay the release of our next fix…” Levi repeated, just a little slower that time. He didn’t trust himself then to speak in anything faster or with a tone any louder.

It was too early in the morning for a meeting, just a little past eight in the morning. He was called into Erwin’s office right after arriving into company grounds and Erwin, a natural early bird, was talking louder than what could have been considered bearable for Levi.

At eight in the morning though, not a lot of things were bearable, especially if they involved a huge change of plans and a glaring reminder that he had a long work day ahead of him.

More importantly, Erwin’s voice was grating in a way that most bosses’ voices were grating when laced with a little more urgency than necessary. “Yes Levi, we’re delaying our fixes indefinitely, not just for Love Alarm but all of our other apps as well.”

Levi raised his eyebrows. “Really? You know we’ve been announcing this big fix for months.”

“I’ve contacted the marketing team. We are pushing the fixes back a week. You think that will be enough for you to finish everything you need?”

Levi shook his head. “There’s no need to push back the release. I can work on this bug now and I can have the other developers and the support team work on getting the regression testing done and getting the release out.”

Erwin shook his head. “I do not want to give Mr. Jaeger the impression that we aren’t prioritizing his complaints. Levi, you have to understand. He’s an important client.”

“I understand that. And I will be on top of things. I’m testing this issue myself.” Most days, Levi left the testing option to the support team. Given the nature of the bug though and the severe urgency of getting it fixed, it had been an easy decision for Levi to take it upon himself.

Erwin hummed in approval. “Yes and I’m happy to hear that you're going to be investigating this bug. I would rather that we didn’t release anything while investigating this.”

“May I ask why? This bug doesn’t involve any of our other functionalities. I can test this myself.”

Erwin hummed. “Zeke Jaeger is an unpredictable man. I don’t think he would appreciate us improving our product while such a glaring bug still exists. He is a very vocal and he might give us some bad press.”

“Oh?” Levi heard the derision in his own tone then, a smooth yet venomous sound. Zeke Jaeger had been outwardly friendly yet for some reason Levi couldn’t explain just yet. He wasn’t at all drawn by the charisma that accompanied it. In fact, the blonde had just been annoying and the conversation only cemented Levi’s first impression of Zeke Jaeger as bad, maybe even terrible.

What the hell does Hange see in him? He added to himself then. How that had entered his own contemplations then, he didn’t know. He quickly brushed it away and mustered the most seemingly uninvested face he could make then.

Erwin had that special talent of seeming uninvested either. As he settled on the sofa in front of Levi, he mixed the coffee just a little too loudly. He had an aura about him that very much meant business. “Have you done some prior investigation?”

“I did,” Levi said. As he soon found out, that aura was contagious.

“Anything new?”

“I’m entertaining the idea that what if…. The application is working fine?”

“Can you explain why his partner had two hearts while he had none?”

Levi cleared his throat. “Assuming the application is working perfectly, we can draw two conclusions. One, someone in love with Hange Zoe had their application on and Two, Hange Zoe isn’t in love with Zeke Jaeger.” That last conclusion couldn’t have easily been true, but still such words left such a sweet aftertaste in Levi’s mouth that he had to make some considerable effort not to smile.

Erwin raised his eyebrows inquisitively. “Any leads on whose application could have been on?”

It had taken some strength, some self confidence and some self discipline on Levi’s side to pull his phone out then. “My love alarm was on yesterday, I forgot to turn it off after the demo…” He navigated to the ‘history’ tab and opened his history to the exact time to late afternoon yesterday.

One person nearby is in love with you. Levi read silently to himself. In that split second, he was contemplating display issues and front end bugs that maybe just maybe accidentally chalked Hange’s heart as ‘love.’ It was highly unlikely though so even before that idea had ripened into something worth an explanation and a support ticket, Levi brushed it aside.

“So your application was on the whole time.” Erwin murmured, looking intently at the phone in front of him.

Levi nodded. “But it’s a good step in the right direction. That means there’s a bug to investigate after all. I just have to isolate it to either Hange Zoe’s application build or mine,” he explained.

“That seems promising and do you need any help organizing a meeting with her.”

“She’s coming today for a little testing.”

“Just like my best engineer to think a few steps ahead.” Erwin asked, a smile curling up his lips. “And you think you can get it done within a week?”

“If all goes well… Even less than a week.”

***

It had turned out that that small meeting had worked well to organize Levi’s thoughts. He had a quick action plan from there and with an action plan, a new burst of motivation, or at least enough of it to carry him from Erwin’s room to his own small office space in a little less than five minutes.

A week to investigate. Levi thought to himself as he leaned back on his office chair. He looked back up at the ceiling for a good few seconds before writing his deadline down on the white board next to him.

He didn’t need that whiteboard, their workflow trackers and excel sheets worked well to always keep Levi in the right state of mind. Yet there was something organic about white boards, something natural about being able to write the numbers with his own hand, freely changing his fonts with just the slight of the hand, impulsively changing formats at just a quick motion.

So he kept it there next to him, a large annoying waste of space to most people. But Levi had taken great pains to make it look organized in his room, measuring each frame to the millimeter. It was a large clean slate right next to his desk in his very small office. And more importantly, it was something that was very much his to play around with like he wanted to.

Under the deadline, he put the new release date of their fix.

We’re delaying the release of the next fix by a week.

Such wise words from someone who didn’t know how the investigation process actually worked. But with an employee and boss relationship, emphasis on Levi being the employee, he had to make it work. That’s how it had always been in the office. Erwin wasn’t a developer. He was a manager. And Levi was being paid by him.

Levi though never liked the idea of delaying fix releases. Once the date was announced, he liked to make sure all of the quality assurance testing and the regression testing was done two weeks ahead. And with that habit becoming custom for the Love Alarm project, he was sure they would have managed to make the release next week. Staring at the workflow interface, he noted the bar was more than half full already, most bugs were tagged as fix. All test builds were submitted and passed and they could have easily moved on to the final regression testing before release.

And regression testing never actually failed. The Love Alarm app after all was a very functionally simple application.

With the weight of a wasted timely release and the powerlessness of corporate politics bare on his back, Levi let out a long sigh.

He opened up his slack channel and typed out a few words.

We’re delaying the next fix release.

But it wouldn’t just be the Love Alarm which would be affected, all the other applications would be affected as well. His notifications exploded within five seconds, all feedback from each time. Levi started to wonder, maybe he should have put everything in one message.

So he edited his old message.

We’re pushing it back a week.

Under that, he put a new date and time as a reminder to all other employees. There were many why’s, many protests and his application continued to shake with notifications.

He checked the time on his phone. Hange had agreed to meet at nine and she should be texting soon. With little to no brains pace to create a summary of his meeting with Erwin in less than ten minutes, Levi typed out two words.

Erwin’s orders. Without waiting for anymore protests, he closed his laptop, packed up his things and ready to move to the small conference room he had reserved for him and Hange.

It was a few floors below. A small room among others but Levi was familiar enough with the layout of their offices to know it was very much soundproof.

Any unwelcome alarms, unwelcome notifications and unwelcome conversations would stay in that room. Even before Levi had dropped off his things in the conference room, Hange had already texted.

Her car was by the gate already.

Meet in the lobby. Levi texted back as he quickened his pace, quickly turning back towards the elevator, laptop bag still in hand.

He could have been too slow. Or Hange could have just been too fast but by the time he had arrived in the lobby, she was already on one of the seats next to the reception, playing around with her phone.

She was wearing a light sweater, her brown hair was pulled up messily into a half ponytail. Levi though had to note that it still looked very much like it fell into place. For a second, he had given her a good onceover, admiring everything at once.

Only a split second later, he was cruelly reminded that he had made her wait, long enough for her to have to sit down in one of the lobby sofas. “How long were you waiting?” It wouldn’t have been the first greeting Levi would have liked to give then. His heart was racing though and soon he realized, maybe he had taken up the unnecessary challenge of jogging down those five flights of stairs while keeping his laptop safely in tow.

Hange looked up from her phone seeming surprised. “Are you busy? Was this a bad time to visit?” Hange asked. “We could reschedule... “

More and more, the first greeting then was seeming less and less ideal. “No, no. This is great. I don’t know what just came over me. Thank you for taking the time to test this bug with me.”

Hange shook her head. “No, no, I asked my partner to invest in this application for a reason. I see great potential and I’d be happy to tweak some of those bugs with you.” Her lips widened into a smile. “So what’s the game plan?”

Levi gestured towards the elevators. “We do some simple testing. I just need to isolate the cause of this bug.”

“Oh? How does application testing work?”

“We use the application,” Levi answered matter-of-factly. Was there any other way to test it? It didn’t seem like something he should be asking the very important partner of a very important person though so Levi kept that last question to himself, instead keeping his face then as something both subtle and questioning.

“That’s cool,” Hange said. “So how’s your job?”

“It’s fine,” Levi answered. “The investigation will keep me busy.” He stared at the numbers on the elevator, getting lower and lower and Levi could have sworn it couldn’t go any slower. He could have found some consolation if anybody else had joined them in the elevator then, to at least abate that awkward need to carry some conversation between them.

Any other employees though had chosen for themselves to wait in front of other elevators. Levi was almost considering doing the same thing.

After all, Hange was talkative. She was asking questions. When they entered the elevator together, the very slow elevator, there would be more than enough time to send two to three questions back and forth. And Levi was quick to realize, he was an incredibly boring person.

“So do you have any hobbies?”

“Programming.” What about you? Levi had readied himself to ask in that long split second of silence that followed.

Hange though was quick to respond even before he could take control of the conversation. “Well aside from your actual job.”

“I like to clean,” Levi answered. He started to wonder how dorky that hobby sounded like. He needed to rephrase. “I meant--- organize things…” He added a second later. “Like Marie Kondo.”

“Oh yes, I’ve heard about her,” Hange said. She had at least allowed for a split second silence then, long enough for Levi to take the reins of the conversation.

Hange though was a high profile person, her partner was one of the richest men in the country and Levi’s mind was racing with hypotheticals. Was it okay to ask her about her hobbies? Her interests? Or was that supposed to be an exclusively professional meeting?

Soon, with all the questions nagging at him at once, he unearthed a question at the back of his mind that he had been meaning to ask since he had met Hange down at the lobby.

So how’s your husband?

Where’s your husband? Do you hang out with him often? Do you usually do stuff alone? A question that couldn’t so easily be answered by a single google search on an incognito window, only that night, he had tried searching keywords just to be sure.

Hange Zoe Zeke Jaeger Relationship

And soon after searching that just once. He had made sure to clear his browser history just in case he didn’t do it in some incognito window. After all, night mode and incognito mode had almost the same interface.

He soon found out though after jumbling around keywords over a search engine that Google wasn’t omnipotent as it turned out. The only one who could have satisfied his curiosity at that moment was the brunette next to him then.

He couldn’t bring himself to ask it just then though. So he went for another question, a very vanilla one but it seemed like a safe bet. “What about you?”

“What about me? What do you mean about me?”

Levi was starting to doubt the flow of the conversation of a while ago. Did he remember it correctly?

The elevator dinged like it was announcing some coming of a messiah. That had been more than enough to break the awkwardness of that exchange and Levi quickly slammed the open elevator door, just a little more loudly than usual. He gestured for Hange to go ahead.

“Hobbies,” Levi said as he met her outside the elevator.

“I like research,” Hange answered.

“Is that your full time job?” Levi asked. He didn’t need to ask. He had read more than enough articles of Zeke Jaeger’s partner to have seen ‘neuropsychologist’ used as an epithet enough to be convinced that that was her full time job. The last thing he wanted to do though was actually accidentally imply in a conversation that he had googled a few keywords for answers before clearing his browser history.

Hange nodded. “Yes it is.”

“Well… Hobbies aside from your actual job?” Levi asked. He kept his own word usage and his own phrasing similar to what Hange had used with him. If Hange asked it that way, that should have been a socially acceptable way to ask.

“I like plants,” Hange said firmly. She wasn’t looking at him. Although Levi had wanted to see the face she was making then, he started to realize that craning his neck to get a good view of her face might just look a little too weird.

So he settled for her side profile. From his view he could see eyes were everywhere at once from the hallways to the doorways just a little further away from the area that opened up as soon as they exited the elevator. “Where are we going?”

“Over here,” Levi said, he was quick to pull her towards the other side though, before she found out that he had taken a good few steps already in the wrong direction. “The conference room is over here…”

“We have a meeting?” Hange asked, her voice suddenly very tense.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just thought it would be better that I reserved a room, so we could do some testing where we wouldn’t bother anyone.”

She let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good. I thought I was supposed to be preparing something.”

In those few minutes, he had made her wait, made her navigate some awkward conversation and made her panic. Then and there as he led her to the room, he was guessing what kind of dashing review she’d be giving Zeke about their first meet up.

More importantly, was he giving a great second impression? It was nine in the morning, too early for him to be confident that he was a fully functioning human being. Or so, that was what he repeated to himself then. He could make up for it after lunch.

Hange settled on one of the chairs nearest to the door. “Do we sit together?” She asked. The meeting room was designed for a maximum of ten people and for a good few seconds, he wondered if he should have gotten something much smaller.

Even before he had figured it out for himself, he was looking between sitting right next to her or towards the other side of the room. They weren’t married. Could he sit beside someone who was married?

But if he sat too far, he might not be able to hear her. He went for a very safe in between. He dropped his laptop bag on the seat next to her with some flourish, as if to say, he was married to his job and he was happy with that arrangement before sitting on the seat right next to his bag.

There was a bag between them, they were a safe distance away and Levi pulled his laptop out and booted it up. “I’m suspecting that the issue with your application might be the build. Can you redownload it for me?” He asked. The laptop had been a reminder at least that they were there for business. And business meant that they had a topic of conversation and he had practiced that script enough times to know, he probably didn’t sound like an idiot.

“Are we testing now?” Hange pulled her phone from her bag.

“Yes we are. Just download the app from the app store. I need to confirm that this isn't just your build in particular being faulty,” Levi brought out his own phone, deleted the application from the folder before redownloading it into his phone.

The ‘downloading’ message next to the love alarm application served some form of inspiration for conversation topics at least. “So, how does your husband like the app?” Levi asked. That line was straight from the basic customer service manual and he was very much sure that was acceptable territory for a professional conversation topic.

“Ahh Zeke? He loves the application. He told me himself, he sees potential in it too.”

Did he tell you over dinner? Over car rides? Somehow, Levi was picturing them over a happy dinner in their European style dining room in their very expensive penthouse apartment down town. He knew how it looked. He had seen it in one of the lifestyle articles he had googled just the night before. “That’s good,” Levi said, he felt that comment catch at his throat. He cleared his throat. “The bug... How does he feel about it?”

Hange’s face fell at that. Subtly at least, but with Levi had been staring at her for the past few seconds, it was very much noticeable as a split second movement. “Yeah, about that…”

“Did he say anything about it?”

“We did research on the application last night… And we were theorizing… so the heart could have been from him… and from someone else right? Someone else had their application open then. And he was saying it was you.” Hange’s eyes were wide with disbelief. “But I remember you said, it could be a bug right? And I’m sure you turned off your phone before we tested it…”

“And we’re testing again,” Levi said as he opened the newly downloaded application on his phone. “Log into your account.” He ordered, looking pointedly at Hange’s phone.

The biometrics were already in his account, all he needed was to log his fingerprints again. Levi took a glance at Hange’s phone laid out on the table.

She had gone through the log in process quickly. He turned the love alarm on and rested his chin on his hands and waited. Hange only needed a few seconds. Soon she had turned it on.

And within a second, her phone buzzed then his phone buzzed. It did wonders to shake the whole table then, enough for Levi to have to grit his teeth as the table shook sending a bolt of shivers up to his chin.

He could have sworn he felt blood rush to his face then. He quickly turned off the alarm. “It might be a problem with our phones. I”ll bring down some test devices and we can try this again. He avoided Hange’s gaze only brushing his hands on her shoulders long enough to make his point known. “Just wait here.”

Hange mumbled something with a seemingly obedient tone. Levi didn’t bother to guess. He quickly made his way out of the room, up the stairs--- he was in no mood to run into anyone in the elevator.

It had taken him roughly ten minutes to go back up to the office and come back down with a bag full of gadgets. He dropped the bag on the meeting table, maybe a little too loud and a little too roughly. “These are the most common gadgets used for testing the love alarm. They’ve all been factory reset so just set any one of them up and we try the application again.”

Hange seemed frozen with surprise, at the least she had managed a nod.

Setting up the device was a simple process and Hange didn’t ask too much about it. She had at least kept quiet through the whole ordeal and although it was second nature for Levi to set up a device, he made sure to keep his head down, his eyes intent, feigning deep concentration.

Or maybe he needed to concentrate. His hands were shaking just a little bit, his heart was racing.

He was sure he only needed to try it one different device, one commonly used model for both of their phones to rule out any problems with build or model. It was a decisive move.

And the climax of such a process came once again when Hange had motioned to click the love alarm again before looking up at him. Before they even met eyes, Levi clicked the on button on his end.

It was at the moment when the alarms rang in unison again did Hange avert her gaze. Levi bit his lip as he stared back at his phone.

One person nearby is in love with you.

He glanced up, at Hange’s phone. Although he couldn’t make out the words on it, the characteristic heart near the center was enough. She was getting the same heart.

He grabbed the phone from her. “It might be related to the model,” Levi said, Years of experience working with applications and phones were telling him, it wasn’t related. One working phone was more than enough proof. Looking at the watch at the end of the meeting room, he saw it was far from lunch time, he had at least ten devices in the bag. “Let’s try it on other phones… Just to be sure.”

***

“Levi, what if…”

“What if…” Levi nodding his head at Hange slowly, a subtle gesture for her to continue speaking.

For lunch, they had settled for one of the diner just along the wide shopping streets only a few minutes walk from the building.

An eventful few minutes walk. Levi had turned on his love alarm, put an earbud to one ear and listened to the alarm ring on repeat as he followed Hange through the streets. There were a few other notifications that popped up and left as he listened. But the ringing coming from that one heart which he had already surmised long ago, was from Hange’s heart had settled into even the cadence of his steps. It became an ubiquitous part of the short walk to the shopping street.

When they had settled in the diner though, Hange was quick to drop her phone in front of him and show him the history of her application. On her phone, there was one heart that remained steadfast through the whole ten minute walk as well.

At that moment, Hange pointed at it, then glanced quickly at Levi’s own phone. “What if… You are attracted to me. And I’m attracted to you? Because this love alarm, it doesn’t just check love right? It checks attractiveness. So if a passer by thinks you’re attractive, your alarm rings,” Hange said.

Levi leaned back on the diner behind him, picking at his fries with a fork. He couldn’t bring himself to eat one, just the results of their testing that morning had him losing his appetite. Consequently, he had ordered the burger meal at the front of the menu, something he was in no mood to eat.

“So maybe…” Hange said.

“Hange, we just met. During all the tests. I have never made anyone’s love alarm ring. Besides, I don’t think I’d be the type of guy to get attracted to someone at first glance. I don’t believe in love at first sight.” And someone who’s married at that. If Levi had something in his mouth then as that thought ran through his mind, he was sure he would have choked. He was more grateful than ever that he hadn’t started eating.

“But, we saw it already… The application was giving the same reading and when we were walking too… It never stopped ringing…” Hange explained. Still she looked like she was still finding the right words.

Levi understood her clearly though. “Hange, are you in love with me?”

Hange turned a bright red. “What? No, I'm married. Also, we just met and I don’t believe in love at first sight either”

“So do you believe there’s a bug?”

Hange nodded. “Maybe? Or maybe the data you put into the application was flawed. Maybe there are things that need to be improved.”

“That is a good point. So what do you suggest then Hange?”

“I’ll help you research. I pitched this application to Zeke because I wanted to try rolling something out similar to hospitals, psychiatric units. And if he invests maybe we could improve the application, work to make it more accurate?”

“That’s the plan. But he said so himself, he’s not going to invest in the application until the bug is fixed.”

“But what if it is working as expected… What if it’s just a matter of fixing the data?” Hange looked out the window, seeming deep in thought. Levi wondered if that last question had been for him or for herself.

“I can do further testing on this. Just to make sure,” Levi said. “The problem is… How are you gonna convince Zeke to invest in this?”

Hange sighed. “I guess it's going to be a question of timing. I'll catch him when he's in a good mood and--”

“Hange, are you willing to admit to your husband that you might just be attracted to some stranger?”

That shouldn't have been such a difficult thing. He had heard before of married couples who window shopped so Levi amended that question in his mind.

Are you willing to admit to your seemingly unhinged husband that you might just be attracted to some stranger?

***

Sometimes, the only way to find the bug is to break the application.

Levi and Hange got caught in the lunch time rush. But Hange wasn’t a typical worker, Levi wasn’t a typical eight to five employee either.

So Levi saw opportunity for a little test. “Open your love alarm,” he whispered. He put one earbud to his ear, motioning for Hange to do the same. He turned on the application once again, letting the shill ring grace his ears one again.

It was annoying at first, but over time, he had started to see it as an old friend. He was far from the denial stage already and he was already threading the lines of acceptance.

He was a developer. He had fucked up the coding and a bug had appeared. And that issue, it was a bug for sure, a bug he needed to investigate.

And any opportunity for data and evidence, was an opportunity he couldn’t waste.

“We walk through the lunch crowd,” Levi said. “Usually when I walk through, I get two to three rings. Sometimes more. There have been issues before that getting too many at once, sometimes the application would conceal all the hearts and the only way to get it to work again is to reset the application.”

“So what do we do?” Hange asked.

“Turn on your application and we walk through the crowds,” Levi repeated matter-of-factly.

The crowds around him though were disconcerting and he could understand how Hange would have needed some guidance then.

What did she know about testing? When Levi asked himself that question, he started to pick out another question too. What did he know about testing?

He was an engineer and he had been working with applications for years. He had experienced a lot about testing. But he had never experienced testing with a customer married to one of the biggest opportunities of a company and being accused of being in love with her by his own brain child.

He was treading unfamiliar grounds.

The ringing of the alarm was always unsettling at first. By the fifth ring, it always found a rhythm. Or maybe it was his own brain that found rhythm in it.

And he walked to that rhythm, he pushed past the crowds to that rhythm and every two to three rings, he would take a glance to see Hange beside him, her face had settled to some rhythm too. Sometimes, she would look back at him, other times she would look behind her, as if she suspected someone had set her alarm off.

But he had become part of her rhythm too. From his peripherals, he could see she snuck glances at him. Very quick glances that Levi had been perceptible, invested enough to notice.

They could have been walking for five minutes, or maybe even ten. Soon, Levi realized, the love alarm had embedded itself into the background noise, an annoying ring amid faint voices, conversations, public announcements.

It had only seemed loud once again when the street had opened up to an open space at the center.

In front of them was an empty park, and it usually was empty when the lunch crowds had made their way back to their offices. Levi had worked there long enough to know.

The chaos of the alarm had subsided into one noise. He turned to Hange to see that she was looking up at the sky then, one hand over her forehead, shading the view from the bright afternoon sun.

The light from the sun had done wonders to make her cheeks look a bright pink and for a second or so, Levi just stared, long enough for Hange to have noticed. Or maybe it was her plan to look to him eventually.

“Did it stop?” Levi asked as soon as he became aware of those hazel eyes on him. He averted his gaze and looked around the empty park. Nobody should be ringing his alarm. Nobody should be ringing her alarm. But them.

It should have been a win-win situation. If that had worked to break the application, Levi could have clocked that as the bug and investigated that instead. If it worked as expected, if the two applications continued to ring, then maybe it was working.

His alarm was still ringing. He did a thorough 360 of the park. No one was near enough to even meet the ten meter radius. Just to be sure though he turned to Hange. “Anyone around our ten meter radius?”

The park was empty save for one old man on a bench a good distance away, definitely more than ten meters. He hoped it had sounded like a redundant question.

Hange shook her head. “Nobody. But the application is still ringing.”

“Did it stop at all? During the walk?”

Once again, Hange shook her head.

Levi took a deep breath and dropped his shoulders back. “Erwin gave me a week to figure this out. I’ll do some of my own personal investigation after this.”

“Hey, I’ll do what I can too. I really want you to get those funds.” Hange took her hands in his and Levi had half the mind to pull away. If her hands weren’t so soft and maybe a little too warm even for a cool spring day.

Levi had been almost disappointed when Hange dropped his hand and turned back to her phone. Just ‘almost’ though. They just met, he couldn’t be too invested in hands.

So he thought back once again to backend work to the numbers that made up the love alarm. And he thought of Hange’s little suggestion. “You said something about flawed data right?”

***

“My plan is I’m gonna see if I can convince Zeke to take up that love alarm,” Hange said.

“No need to hurry. I have a week to get it working,” Levi muttered. He wasn’t looking at Hange then. His laptop was propped on his lap and he was looking through open support tickets.

They had a support team and being a developer, answering customer queries wasn’t his job. At that rate though, he was looking for anything to keep him busy. Zeke would be coming to pick up Hange and the last thing he wanted to be was free enough to stare at them.

“I have some books on love, I could send them over,” Hange suggested

Levi looked up from his laptop. The support ticket on ‘how to download the app’ was not very interesting after all and he found reason once again to stare at Hange’s bright hazel eyes. “Why would I need books about love?”

“You seem… inexperienced with love?” Hange started. She seemed unsure with that answer.

“Inexperienced with love?” Levi narrowed his eyes at her.

“Allergic to love,” Hange repeated. “so I thought it might help if you read on them.”

“Why would you care if I read them?”

“If we’re gonna work together to improve the accuracy of your alarm, I think you should learn. I’ll do my part too. I’ll learn a bit of coding.”

Levi shrugged. “Send them over then. I’ll look through them if I have time. First things first, I need to get a little more testing done.”

“They might be useful for testing. Or maybe they’ll be able to help you pick out which sensations in particular point to love.”

“I loaded the data. I would know,” Levi said.

Hange raised one eyebrow at him in playful suspicion. It had done some magic in helping Levi recall that all he remembered were the numbers and some hints about sweating, palpitations and some quickening paces. But machines had a tendency of learning more about the users over time.

“Maybe I’ll read one or two before bed," he added a second later.

“Great. Then I’ll do my homework too. I’ll see what I can get from Zeke. Hopefully I can convince him to invest, even with the bug.”

“You have my number---” Just update me. Before Levi could let those words out, he had fallen back into that support ticket about that one person not knowing how to download the application.

It was still a boring and stupid support ticket. But when Zeke had padded into the lobby like he owned the place with a butler in tow, Levi decided that the idiot of a ticket was still a better view than Zeke at that moment.

“Thank you for picking me up,” Hange said in an almost melodic tone, a tone that made Levi’s ears bleed.

“My meeting ended early and I don’t think we had a good dinner since last week. What did you have for lunch?”

“Burgers and fries.”

“Burgers and fries? Hange, I gave you more than enough money for a good meal." Zeke sounded mortified.

Levi froze. He had suggested the diner for its strategic location. He found himself running his right hand slowly over his wallet in his front pocket. He was sure he had the money for anything more expensive.

“It was good.”

“Well, I’ll make sure we get something better tonight. There’s a new restaurant, just outside town, they sell the pink fatty tuna and Kobe beef imported straight from Japan, same day shipping apparently so it’s definitely the freshest we can get here. What do you think?”

“That sounds great,” Hange said.

She had said it in such a tone, a tone she had never used with Levi before. Like she was tasting the food as she spoke of it. Of course she wouldn’t use it on you. You just met her. Levi thought to himself. As he willed himself to get back to his senses, he realized the ticket was still untouched. Although he had been staring at it since a while ago, he hadn’t made any progress at all.

He looked up at Hange then at Zeke. “Apologies for only taking her to a diner. Next time, I’ll make sure to take her somewhere a little…” Rich, expensive, snazzy, exclusive, snobby? Too many adjectives were running through his head then but Levi settled for something seemingly more professional, or as professional as he could go. “More your tastes.”

“That would be very much appreciated,” Zeke said. He took one of Levi’s hands in his, too suddenly and too forcefully that Levi had to smack his laptop to keep it balanced on his lap. “Thank you again for taking very good care of my Hange here.” He had slipped a hundred dollar bill in between Levi’s hands and maybe he had expected Levi to smile and say ‘thank you.’

And most days, Levi was polite enough to have mustered one but his ears were still ringing, not from hearing the love alarm non stop that day but from those last words Zeke had said.

My Hange.

Hange waved, motioning with her hands to ‘text soon,’ then she turned her back on him.

Levi couldn't’ even get a good view of Hange as she walked away. Soon enough, Zeke had wrapped one arm around her shoulders. From Levi's angle, he couldn’t tell whether Hange had pushed closer to him or Zeke was the one who pulled her closer.

For a second longer, he pondered it. Of course Zeke would pull her closer, that’s his Hange. Of course Hange would move closer to him, she’s his.

Levi looked back at the support ticket, he had opened again.

How to download application. Please help.

He closed his eyes and leaned back on the sofa. He closed all his open tabs before laying his eyes again on the empty draft.

Within seconds, he had closed that tab as well. There were larger issues then than a customer not being able to download an application.

***

Hange had sent books about love in a drive folder and she had emailed it to him. When Levi opened it, he was quick to figure out, they were all self help books

Scott Peck? He could have sworn he had heard that name somewhere and when he opened it, he found the book was hundreds of pages long. He didn’t have the attention span for that.

Maybe I’ll read one or two before bed. He had promised Hange that evening. But he didn’t actually have to read it right?

So instead, Levi googled the summary.

Genuine love is volitional rather than emotional. The person who truly loves does so because of a decision to love. This person has made a commitment to be loving whether or not the loving feeling is present. ...Conversely, it is not only possible but necessary for a loving person to avoid acting on feelings of love.

Levi was quick to close it after that. If that concept of love was real, that would defeat the whole purpose of the love alarm. The last thing he had wanted to do so late at night was invalidate his own brain child.

“Book one for the night. Done,” Levi whispered to himself as he opened the next book on file.

Before you love others, you must learn to love yourself.

“Cliche,” Levi said. But soon after reading it, he turned back to the application on his phone. He turned it on to see an empty blue screen void of hearts. There wouldn’t be hearts, he was alone in his apartment.

He thought back to Hange’s mention of flawed data. He thought back to the alarm that wouldn’t stop ringing. They had been testing it that whole day, there was nothing wrong with the application and the developer in Levi knew there weren't any glaring bugs.

But the testing would continue. He hadn’t completely tested all the scenarios after all. The alarm ringed with Hange but would it have alarmed with anybody else? His five years worth of experience testing the application told him 'no.'

Or maybe he just hadn’t been actively looking for the right people.

Even at night, the gears in his mind managed to turn and soon, he had a plan albeit a vague one. But the first few steps were clear at least. Levi navigated to his play store and typed a few words on the screen. A few minutes later, he was downloading an application with a familiar flame icon on the screen.

He took a deep breath. "This is part of the testing process," he muttered to himself. He was gonna be spending the whole night swiping.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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