#u can tell how long this sketch has been sitting half finished by the fact i started this right after he built the temple | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bahngray · 2 years

Text

LIMERENCE

Disclaimer This work is for mature audience.

Pairing hyunjin x reader x felix

Synopsis - guess it was my fault to love you ever so dearly but to lose you too soon.

Because I never really felt the need to express things with him. He was always there. Right beside me when I needed him. But what hurt me was the reality. The fact that he never really wanted to give in himself to me, that he never gave me the chance to claim him as mine. When I tried to escape he held me in. And though it hurts I was trapped in a prison I had created myself.

This is my story,

Chapter 1: A Fault In My Star

Hyunjin and Y/N have been friends since they were 5, grew up in the same neighborhood and eventually became best friends but little did they know their feelings were growing towards each other in a romantic way as they grew older. Hyunjin was never the type to bring things up, he would always wait until someone brought it up and would then only spill his part of the story.

On the other hand Y/N always kept waiting for Hyunjin to confess because she herself wasn't confident enough to express her feelings as she felt like it could act as a threat to their long friendship, so they kept it in for as long as they could.

"Hey what's up?" Hyune asked

"Nothing much really, wby?" I said

He frowned, giving me a concerned look. And just as I thought I could get away with it he blurted out, "You haven't found a partner for literature did u?"

I gasped, just realizing how much he knows me, how he can see through me. Without sparing time for me to answer he knocked the silence out, " Dw I'll be ur partner, we have always been partners since the beginning so why not? Right?"

And there he just got me again. Once again I started to cross the line I had created.

" So, okay we start today, meet me in the spare room after class" he said

"Cool" and with that being said he left as if it was all just so easy for us to be that way.

After class I walked out of class to meet hyunjin, as I was about to enter the room, I saw hyunjin set in concentration trying to finish the sketch he has started. He looked so ethereal, just breathtaking and painfully true to be false.

I watched as sweat trickled down his forehead, his long hair hiding half of his face while he kept biting his lips in frustration not sure what to do next.

My mind kept telling me to move and go sit beside him get the assignment started so that it'd end soon, but I just couldn't, my feet felt frozen and all I could do was watch him mesmerizing me once again with his beauty. Hyunjin wasn't just beautiful he was breathtakingly gorgeous .

"Hey y/n what r u doing there come on in, let's get this done with!" Hyunjin yelled and like an embarrassed idiot I walked inside the room to take a seat beside him.

We took our copies out and started to discuss abt the assignment. After half an hour of discussion we decided on doing Romeo and Juliet. We decided to convey their emotions in the assignment. I took out my notebook to note things down, "Let me do that", hyunjin took the notebook from me and just as he opened it he saw a picture of him and I on homecoming,

I quickly shoved the notebook away from him, but he was too stubborn to let go, he held it tight in his hands, "hyune let go!"

But instead he pulled the notebook harder and we were so close to each other I could feel his breath. He looked up at me and realized the situation, we both froze. He looked in my eyes and I could feel myself lost in him again.

The sincerity in his eyes made me feel loved, his breathing grew tense as he kept coming close, until his lips brushed against mine, that gentle familiarity felt wrong somehow.

I could feel him trying to control himself, as if he would move away any second then so i did what i shouldnt have done i crashed my lips on his and kissed him with all that i had in me. He was quite taken but he didnt stop he held me and kissed me deeper, softer.

Moments after we pulled away to let ourselves breathe, resting our foreheads against each others. I was just happy that hyunjin was finally letting me in, giving me a chnace to be his but then he broke the silence, "We shouldnt be doing this", and like that it was gone.

The moment that felt so warm and fuzzy turned into the most painful step I had taken.

I looked up at him, my eyes teary and without saying another word, I rushed out if the room. I ran out of the the building as fast as i could.

Tears streaming down my eyes, "Ouch!"

And I fell on top of someone i shouldnt have.....

72 notes · View notes

lovely-necromancy · 3 years

Text

A Cure for Insomnia CH.6

You wake up sometime around one. Not too late in the day given your morning. With a decent amount of sleep under your belt you roll over and start striping your bed of its sheets. Then you make your way across your room, picking up stray clothes as you go to your hamper and dump your collection of dirty linens and clothes into it. You carry the hamper to the bathroom where you load half into the washer. There's no real point in separating the clothes from colored items and pastels or whites. You're only twenty-four and don't have your life totally figured out yet. You can be a little lazy with laundry.

Once your first load of laundry is being washed you go to do your weekly tidy of your home. The one good thing that came from the paranoia of your car's break in was you rearranged all the furniture of the home, thus cleaning as you went. So that means it's more of a quick wipe down of counters and sweeping today. Maybe you'd organize your art supplies while doing your laundry. It's an activity that wouldn't distract you too much and make you forget you had laundry in the wash.

You finish washing the dishes from this morning you begin wiping the counters and tabletop when you notice your fidget cube is still on the table where Toby left it earlier.

'Don't want to lose this. Back to the bookshelf where you belong.' When you get to the living room's bookshelf you notice one of your book's is missing. Ironically it's The Book Thief.

'Tobias probably picked it up and put it down somewhere.' you'd keep your eyes peeled for the book while you cleaned.

After wiping down bookshelves, tables, counters, even the mantel over the fire place you still hadn't found your missing book. You probably picked it right up and placed it right back down without even realizing. You'll just keep an eye out until you find it. You don't even reread books, you really just kept a copy to lend out to people when they ask what your favorite books are. It isn't a real big deal if you can't find it, plus there's bound to be a copy floating somewhere in a thrift shop or yard sale.

The washer chimes right as you grab the broom to sweep. Pausing this task to go retrieve your laundry and do the rest. You empty the dirty clothes left in the basket onto the floor and place the clean wet ones inside the basket. After starting the final load you carry the basket out back. As nice as this home is its still small and doesn't have a dryer, which early summer is fine but come fall and winter might be more cumbersome. Seeing as you have to hang the laundry out to dry outside. Maybe when it gets cold you'll just do smaller loads and hang them up in the bathroom or over the fire place. But that's a thought for future you. Right now current you is struggling yet again to get a fitted sheet to sit on the line. Fitted sheets are probably Satan himself in disguise.

When you finish stringing all the laundry up you take a moment to just enjoy the quiet and the peace that comes with the outside. It's nice out here, maybe after you finish the last few chores today you can come out and just draw, it'd be a good way to also keep an eye on this weather in case it turns. While it hasn't happened yet you're very aware of the risks you take by ignoring the existence of meteorologists. And by that you mean just not bothering to look up the weather for the day.

Heading back inside you restart your task of sweeping. Like you thought you've finished before the washer has even completed it's first cycle. The house isn't too big so it's easy to clean it from top to bottom within a day normally, but today you had even less to do thanks to this week's rearranging. So you move on to organizing your art supplies and separating all materials by medium.

Of course arranging materials is never easy, after all you end up staring at all your horded empty sketch books and note how your thumbnail notebooks are just covered in doodles and random scribbles but no real art or ideas. Maybe it's time to start kicking yourself into gear. You ran into a major period of burnout before moving and now with this fresh start you might be able to focus on progressing with art, even if you don't pursue it as a career. You've always loved the ability to draw and create images that make others happy. But right in this moment you just want to make yourself happy. Maybe you could start small just a few still lifes and see how you feel after that.

Hearing the chime of the washer you hurry to finish putting away the supplies in their newly assigned places. Just as before you transfer the wet and clean clothes into the awaiting basket and take them out to be hung to dry. You don't have another fitted sheet this go round so it goes by much faster than it previously had. Now with all of your washing for today hung you head back inside to grab a fresh sketchbook.

Having never been one for scenery, more of a portrait artist, you start off with small things. A few stills of a flower under the window, the old tire swing on the tree, and even the blue jay that dove for dinner right in front of you. Of course all of these were warm ups done in a few minutes, though you really wish you had more time on the blue jay one. You really need practice with things that aren't people.

The warm ups of course don't look very good, but you can still see what you'd been going for. The hatching and smudging you'd done, to increase depth and give the quick drawing more life, did help a little but it was clear this was an area where you weren't skilled. But that didn't deter you, after all you needed more practice and wouldn't be getting better without it.

Deciding to draw the scene before you, a small open meadow surrounded by trees, in other words your backyard with your drying laundry. You start off slow and make sure to actually look and take in the yard in front of you, doing your best to not just make up the trees and their shapes as you go. Soon you are lost in the meditative muscle memory of drawing. The scratching of pencil scrapping across paper further lulling you into a trance like state as you etch out the scenery.

A harsh breeze blows through and the loud flapping of sheet hitting sheet knocks you loose from your trance. Checking to make sure none of your laundry was flying off, it hadn't the laundry was still secured to the line. Smiling you glance down to actually see what you've sketched out so far. It isn't too bad, though you aren't sure how long you've been working on it, the trees all have a distinct shape rather than your typical cartoon one size fits all attempts. Scanning the page your eyes catch onto something off, out in the tree line it looks like you'd drawn a figure hiding behind a tree.

Hearing the beating of your heart that's currently hammering against your chest you look around. Did your mind do that as a joke or had someone genuinely been watching you draw? Your mouth is dry as your eyes scan the tree line for any sign of what could've been mistaken for a person, but you saw nothing. No one was there. Had anyone ever really been there? Why would you draw that? Why wouldn't you remember doing it? You don't feel safe out here anymore. There are eyes watching you you can feel it. They may not physically be there but the phantom eyes that surround you and cause your skin to crawl make sure you know of their presence. You take that as a sign to head inside for the evening, one that doesn't need to be repeated.

You lock the door immediately behind you and check your phone. It's seven, and you have an email notification. Thanking whatever power for the distraction you slide down your back door and open the notification. It's from Hollis!

YN r u coming to SND? It's that teen beach zombie movie u love. Y;know the awful D list one Blk and wht with the 50yos playing teenagers

Lemme know I'll save your seat.

Sent 6:47 P.M.

They're so sweet to remember you loved this awful D list zombie movie. Horrible subplots and main plot and all. But you're a little spooked right now and watching even that joke of a horror movie is probably too much for you. You doubt you'd feel better by the time ten rolls around to watch it. Not to mention your battery's still drained from Toby this morning. And knowing for a fact you'd probably stay late to talk till morning with Hollis, Jake, and Kirby you decide it's best to skip this week. Just not having the energy to handle Saturday Night Dead.

Nah, sorry man. Battery's dead from being social earlier. Thanks tho, I do appreciate you! ….....,.... lemme know what next week's movie is!

Sent 7:10 P.M.

It'd probably be a good time to make something for dinner, there's a box of mac n cheese in the pantry. Simple but always beloved. As you wait for Hollis to respond you start on boiling water. But you didn't have to wait too long since they'd answered near instantly.

Chill, don worry we'll catch ya next week

…..oooop

ot not...Kirb's said it's the start of watching the entire warren file collection

starting from the beginning

...well the first movie released, Insidious. LOL we probs won't ever see you again.

Sent 7:12 P.M.

How dare Kirby betray you like this. First off those movies are awful, and like not cheesy awful just awful awful. Not to mention he knows how you feel about the Warrens and their cases. You have a power point presentation ready for that dick the next time you see him. ...well not literally but you'd make one to prove a point!

Where's Kirby now? I just wanna talk, I just wanna talk is all.

Sent 7:18 P.M.

Already ran off toy vermont probably

will we get blessed with a ted talk nxt week?

Sent 7:20 P.M.

I can't tell if you're joking or not. If you aren't then yea I can make a power point and we'll play that instead of the movies. Every week until this town understands the severity of this.

Sent 7:21 P.M.

Ya just jkin.

Your passionate hate is funny tho, so could be good to do something mid warren marathon.

Sent 7:23 P.M.

Guess the dissertation on how horrendous the “exorcisms” were will have to wait. They'd just been joking. This is probably a good ending of the conversation anyway, it's hard to tell sometimes but you feel you'll just run in circles with the current topic or worse fall into a rant that they won't read all the way through because they'll have left with the rest of the stunt gang to get dinner before heading over to the Cryptonomica for Saturday Night Dead. Hollis is typically a real good sport about this kinda thing but you'd rather not bog down their night with your hate boner for the Warrens.

'I'll let them know later that I'll still come to Saturday Night Dead next week.' you think as you dump the pasta into the water that finally came to a boil. It's quiet as you cook your macaroni dinner. You'd normally not notice the lack of sound or life in your home before, but maybe having Connor and Toby over put things into perspective. Guests aren't really a thing you've ever had, you always feel rude if your social battery runs out before someone's stay is over. But maybe you're lonely, and it's put you on edge.

Though this week would've put anyone on edge, you have still been alone in this house for two months. That can't be healthy for your mental well being, humans are social creatures by nature after all. Maybe you could get a pet, something that'd make it's fair share of noise and give the home a bit more life than your normally hollow shell wondering the halls. Are you even sure you want a pet? Do you have time for one? You have the standard nine to five, but what about when you're off on a nightly trip because of your sleeplessness? What if you forgot about them? Hell your brain's been so foggy these last few months, it wouldn't be surprising.

Like a sign from the divine themselves, the pot of water boils over. Steam is rising as the sizzling is heard. Your head snaps twice to the right as you scramble to lower the heat and raise the pot off the eye. Putting it down on an unused eye you give it a quick stir and thankfully no pasta got burned to the bottom of the pan....this time. The pasta seems a little crunchy but a texture you'll eat so you kill the hot eye and start on the cheese portion of your mac n cheese.

As you eat you continue your original debate about getting a pet. Ultimately deciding that you just aren't ready for that kind of responsibility right now. Sure you'd had tons of pets in your parents' home but that was with a financial safety net and back when your mental health wasn't all over the place. Not to mention the pets were family pets and responsibility was split three ways.

There isn't much room in your home for you to have a roommate, and that presents a whole nother set of challenges. You could try to make friends through online forums again! It's hard to talk to people in general but you always get scared off before replying to a comment or post. Or overshare to the point people infantize you. Even better trying therapy out could help with your loneliness. Hah ok good one, even if you had money for it consistently you don't think you could trust someone knowing all your secrets but not knowing any of theirs. And while that in and of it self is an example of why you need it, you're rational enough to realize you aren't ready for that either.

After finishing your meal you put away the left overs and clean the dishes. You'll be happier tomorrow knowing they aren't your problem to deal with. You start to make your way to your bedroom but freeze just before the hall.

'You shouldn't stay here...you need to leave.'

A glance at the time tells you it's eight thirty-nine, if you left right now you could make it to Saturday Night Dead with time to spare. You don't need to fill the loneliness with new friends, just spend time with the ones you already have. Duh. Turning you grab your keys off the bookshelf and take one of the masks hanging from a hook by the door.

Checking your door was locked and locking your car once you were in, you're ready to drive. Knowing you're still overstimulated you forgo the music on this drive, hoping it will calm you down enough to enjoy the movie and some down time with friends. And that would help put a pin in your self isolating habits. It'd really be nice if you brought movie snacks over to surprise the gang. You're pretty sure the mini mart carries everything you need. Jake likes swedish fish, Hollis is addicted to those extreme sour airhead ropes, and Kirby's a weirdo with his love of red vines and surge. Hahaha that man will die before he's thirty-eight.

Still having the extra time you deiced to stop by the mini mart and grab the candy. What's the worse that can happen you have another panic attack in front of strangers. Plus you hadn't seen Magnolia the last few times and you'd hate for her to think you'd been ignoring her. Pulling into the empty mini mart parking lot you take a breath to steel your resolve before leaving your car.

Tim looks at the door when he hears the chime and stiffens when he sees you. Fuck you did have a panic attack in front of this guy last night, plus you really haven't formally met. But didn't Toby say his roommate was named Tim? And he and Brian were both here talking with Tim last night before you came in. That can't be coincidence.

“uh...hi?” you say awkwardly standing in the doorway, door closed behind you.

“um, hi?” perfect he's just as awkward in this situation as you are. You can work with this.

Moving through the first two isles you keep your eyes peeled for Magnolia, even though you can make this an in and out trip for candy, you do miss the little bodega cat.

“Wh- hey are you, are you even ok to be here?” Tim calls as he rounds the counter and makes his way to you.

“Huh? Oh...oh yea. I'm chill now.” you hear the bell before you see her. The little ting tin ting of her bell that comes with the grace only fluffy cats have.

“You literally collapsed on the floor last night after blacking out while driving.” his tone is very stern. He and Nate would probably get on like a house on fire. The grumpy old men who secretly care a lot duo.

“I don't remember collapsing...but I know I didn't drive.” well you don't know that but you do firmly believe that.

The man is just turning into the isle when you spot the floof sauntering just behind him. Magnolia didn't spare either of you a glance as she made her way to the counter. Probably going to her bed, an old shipping box for apples, you'd just meet her over there then. With no warning to the man you squeeze past him and and follow the cat. Agitated footsteps following after you in your quest to pet the cat.

Magnolia perks up upon seeing you, the flicking of her tail letting you know she's anticipating her pets. The huffing Tim hovering behind you isn't as pleased with your actions as the cat is. The man is radiating negativity, annoyance maybe or is it concern that breeds frustrated anger? The second he starts to clear his throat, as if to remind you of his hovering, you roll your eyes.

Looking back at him over your shoulder you see him in all his grumpy man glory. His brow was furrowed so hard his thick eyebrows nearly covered his eyes. But with the way his lips emoted the man before you looked more like a pouting muppet. It would be funny if it weren't for the foreboding feeling of the moments before being reprimanded by a teacher.

When you straighten up you take note that your eyes meet perfectly. He's the same height as you that's surprising, you thought he'd be taller than 5'7. His eyes widen slightly at seeing your full height, it must've thrown him off since the first time he saw you, you'd actively been trying, and had succeeded at looking smaller.

“What are you doing here?” well he doesn't get thrown off for long.

Running a hand through Magnolia's fur a few more times as you respond, “Petting Magnolia.” you really are a little shit sometimes.

“No...no, why are you out? Toby had to take you home last night, you shouldn't just be waltzing around town after that.” maybe it was frustrated concern.

“Oh I'm fine now.”

Magnolia at this point has jumped up on the counter and is headbutting you for more attention. Chuckling you turn your attention back to her. Meanwhile Tim behind you is at a loss for words.

“Fine?? You don't just...bounce back from a panic attack.”there's personal experience behind those words.

“I just rationalize things fast.” Hearing the trill of the clock on the wall reminds you that you need to grab those snacks and head over to the Cryptonomica for movie night.

Going to the candy isle you grab one of each of the gang's favorites, you snag a bag of white cheddar popcorn on the way to the counter and place your items there. Tim doesn't get a word out before you rush off to the cooler near the back that is in all honesty pretty sketch. Like who even makes Fruitopia anymore? That stuff got discontinued in the early 2000s. The cooler even has Hi-C Ecto Coolers...you might actually check if they're in date and grab a few.

Rummaging around the cooler you finally spot the weird tech green and black splattered can proudly stating SURGE. It has no date...questionable at best. But hey it's only Kirby drinking it, and it's been well established that man will die well before middle age. Grabbing a can to check the Ecto Coolers, luck is on your side! These cans are from the re-release that happened as a promotion for the Ghostbusters revival a few years back, they'll be good for another two years! For now you'll just take one so you won't have to worry about lugging cans around for the movie.

Once your new items are placed on the counter the expression on Tim's face cannot even be described. The questions of the surge are probably the ones easiest to read...or they're just the most predictable.

“Kirby likes red vines and surge, sickening right?” Maybe a little joke will break the ice.

“...Like that little round pink...thing?” What?

The laughter is coming out before you can stop it, the image of said pink Kirby consuming red vines and surge only to accessorize as your friend comes to mind. It's adorable and cursed at the same time. Adorably cursed. You'll have to draw that and print a few copies to hang around the Cryptonomica.

“No,” you're choking on giggles at this point, “Kirby, the owner of the Cryptonomica.” catching your breath and regaining your composure, “It's that tourist trap just across from the RV park.”

“Oh.” normally such a short cold reply would make you shut down the conversation. But This is Toby's roommate, and if you want to be friends with Toby, you'll probably run into him a lot more. Plus if he's a new night shift cashier it wouldn't hurt to be on good terms with him for when you're out on adventures.

“Yea, hey Toby mentioned you three just came to town, so you might not have known but the Cryptonomica does a weekly movie night on Saturdays. Saturday Night Dead. Normally it's awful old horror movies but next week they're starting a Warren Case files “arch”.” Tim doesn't take the conversation bait at the pause.

“It's a great way to meet other locals, you guys should check it out if you get the chance. It starts at ten and runs till one or so on most weeks.” Olive branch has been extended.

Tim relaxes for the first time since you got here tonight. The sheepish look on his face and twitchy pupils give the impression he's thinking it over. He sighs and nods before saying, “Yea, that sounds...nice.”

Olive branch skeptically taken! You'll count this one as a win in your book. With the mood lightened Tim breaks the ice a bit further.

“Surge and red vines can not be good for you.”

“Right! If living off mountain dew and pizza rolls doesn't kill him, this for sure will.” you both have a small laugh at that. It's nice to finally have cleared up the mix up from the beginning of the week. Which reminds you.

“Oh...um...I'm YN by the way. It's nice to meet you...sorry for the two,” your neck tics to the side, “previous nights.” you finish.

“Tim...and it,uh happens sometimes...'s fine.” Score awkward acknowledgment of previous meetings and you can now erase those from your nightly anxieties.

Tim finishes ringing and bagging your items and you pay. Giving another pet to the curled up kitty on the counter you nod farewell to Tim.

A trill rings out from the clock on the wall. It's ten.

Two heads snap to look at the wall. You take a second glance at your phone while Tim checks his watch. Both say the clock on the wall is correct. But it just turned nine not even ten minutes ago. Right? You can brush off yourself loosing track of time but when you involve another person that just doesn't make sense. Tim looks just as concerned as you. Only Magnolia lays unaffected by the lost fifty minutes.

“I should go.” Tim nods numbly to you as you exit the store.

You won't be able to make it to the movie, well you could but you'd disturb someone if you walked in mid movie. Choosing to go home instead you drive, once again without music. Entering your home you hang your mask back on the hook. Putting away the drinks and snacks for next weekend, you make your way to your bedroom. Once again freezing just before the hallway. Turning to your living room you can see a book in the middle of your coffee table. You definitely don't remember the book being there, and doubt you'd miss it out in the open. But as you got closer you could confirm, even in the dark, that it was The Book Thief.

#ticci tobyx reader #ticci toby #ticcitoby #reader insert #timothy wright x reader #timothy wright #timothy wright x brian thomas #brian thomas x reader #brian thomas #masky x reader #masky x hoodie #creepypasta fanfic #A cure for insomnia

14 notes · View notes

luboytn · 5 years

Text

rami’s thoughts about you

a/n: wow. hi there, yall! if you have any ideas of story that I should write about-jus tell me bout it! I’m writing about rami n all characters he played. hope u will like my work! thx tysm

pairing: Rami Malek x reader

summary: you work at the café. rami is having crush on u and after a long time he finally decided to ask u about your number.

warnings: -

word count: 1500+

_________

I watch her long, tanned legs as she heads towards me. Y/N is wearing a white dress today with various colorful flowers; it reaches almost to her knees. She has ordinary white converss on his feet, which are already slightly damaged and dirty. Her hair is once again associated in a ponytail, which is decorated with a sweet, small bow. At the waist, a black apron with a logo of the apartment is tied.

I'm asking myself; How does this girl withstand this weather in this outfit? How aren’t her legs freezing when the north wind blows outside the window, which is like a breath of arctic cold, and every other day it is raining?

I look out the window for a moment. I see many people outside, half of whom are already wearing large, down jackets, prepared for the winter and frosts. What's wrong with this girl?

I bite my lip and tap my fingers on the table top. It's so annoying to have someone absorbing your thoughts. It distracts you from everything, because it is so unattainable, and at the same time literally, at your fingertips.

- Good morning. - I hear her velvety, sweet like candy, voice, so I look at her. In addition to small freckles, today her face is also decorated with a wide, snow-white smile, which sends in my direction when our eyes meet. My gaze goes down to the notebook, which she holds in her hands; I stop my eyes for a moment, focusing it on her long nails. Each of them is painted in a different color, which seems to me quite an interesting solution.

I do not know how long I watch them, but when I hear the girl grunt, I go back to the living and raise my head, looking her in the eye now.

- Welcome to "Lucky Strike" - she says again - Can I accept your order now? - she asks, and I am correcting myself in my chair.

I grab a card of dishes in my hands, although I know well that I am going to order what is usual. I am reading letters on paper again, and then I say:

- Classic Italian espresso. - I smile at her, what she reciprocates, and then sketch something on the notebook sheet.

- Anything else? - she asks without looking up, and I shake my head denying. - I'll give it in a second. - she says.

Y/N turns around, hiding a small notebook into the only pocket of her uniform, and then goes away. I suspend my eyes on her perfect hips, but it only lasts a moment.

I watch her enter the counter. She pushes under the cup shelf one of the crates that lie on the floor and then climbs onto it. She is too small to even now calmly reach for the desired dish. A pretty, charming sight, standing on tiptoe like a ballerina and trying to take off one of the cups. When she succeeds in a moment, involuntarily a creepy smile sneaks into my face, because I can see that it is the one with blue flowers.

I wonder why she is still giving me coffee in it. I mean, in this specific cup. Literally all the other espresso cups are completely white, and the one that stands out is the one that goes to me every next time.

Did she bring her it here? It is quite distinct, because it is the only one that is different. Maybe it's a kind of message? Is Y/N trying to tell me something? Oh, what am I saying. What would she want to show through a stupid vessel? That she likes blue flowers? Absurd.

I shake my head, fleeing my thoughts back to the brunette. I watch her turning on the coffee machine, doing two neat turns. It looks like she really loved this job because you can always see a smile on her face. She comes here every day joyful. She does pirouettes from time to time, for no reason, and laughs at herself, like a small child. It is such a delightful sight that you would like to come here just to see it. It is the best attraction that I have seen in my life.

I do not even know when, and I start to grin with myself and I have to look a bit strange, but I'm not really caring about it at the moment. I have such a sweet view in front of my eyes, I cant help how my body reacts.

I feel my heart beat faster when the brunette finishes making coffee and walks with the t towards me. She looks like a kind who intends to show off her drawings.

She leans over the table at which I sit. She puts a cup in front of me, saying kindly to "enjoy your coffee”. Then I pay attention again to her hands, and more precisely to the fingers that run gracefully through pure porcelain, when, after a really short moment, they disappear from my vision, I raise my head.

Unchecked, I get up on my feet, almost pouring freshly ordered coffee. I make a bit of noise, so the couple from the neighboring table looks at me, but after a few second they return around.

- Can I still order something else? - I ask, one hand raising slightly upwards, as if I was a student in a school bench. Penny turns to me, then with a smile, returns to me and stands at the table, leaning on it.

- Of course. How can I help you? - after asking questions, she reaches for a notebook and a pen, waiting for my next order. I begin to feel a slight anxiety and stress and suddenly, immensely strong, I am tempted to drink.

- Could I get your number? - I say before I even manage to mentally prepare for possible rejection. My eyes widen because I'm shocked that I've gotten the courage to ask her about it.

There is a somewhat awkward silence between us that echoes in my ears. Believe me, even when you hear no sound, this kind of silence can be deadly loud.

- My number? - Asks brunette, frowning, and I feel my face paler. I want to break the window next to us and run outside; run and run ahead, so no one would know where I am.

I'm starting to rebuke myself for my stupidity. Why did not I think she could have a boyfriend? She is so beautiful, kind and young, who would not like it for their self? Who would not want it to be their property? She may even be engaged or, worse, she has already got married; she has a child or even a bunch of them.

My hands are prone to itch because I really want to smash something. I'm mad at myself. Why didnt I thought about that I may be not her type? She probably already noticed that I come here five times a week, at the same time, and order the same coffee; and when I do, I start to observe her. I don’t exclude the possibility that at this stage she considers me a murderer or a pervert. If I was her - would have thought about myself that way. What normal guy, approaching up to fourty, looks at the same woman, in addition younger, for a year, grinning like an idiot, while drinking coffee?

- I think it would be better if you were to give me yours. - I hear Y/N’s voice, which pulls me out of the momentary state of reflection. I am slightly confused and try to understand her way of thinking. I raise one eyebrow, remaining quiet.

Does she not want to hurt me by giving me the wrong number, but she still has no heart to reject me?

- I do not have a phone, I'll call you from the booth. - she explains, probably seeing my embarrassment.

- Oh - I say - Yes, sure. Give me a piece of paper, I'll write it down for you - Im trying to sound natural, although I have a panic attack inside.

The girl pulls a piece of paper from her notebook and hands it to me with the pen. I enter my phone number on the card, trying to preserve the cute character of the letter. When I finish, i give it to the brunette, she puts it in her pocket, after folding it in half.

- What happened to your cell phone? - I ask, hoping that I do not violate her privacy or I do not enter delicate topics. Who knows if her phone has not been stolen recently, along with other valuable things? Or maybe she has no money to buy it?

- I just dont have it. - she answers briefly, seems slightly embarrassed. She has her head down and the pen in her fingers. Oh, if you could see her now; how sweet she is. I bet I assigned her this epithet at least fifty times today. However, it fits perfectly with her, she could be a definition of this word.

At this point, it does not even seem strange to me that she does not have a cell phone. Well, I admit that in the twenty-first century, it's harder to find someone without a phone than with it. Especially when it's a person, more or less, my age, and Y/N seems even younger.

Then I start to wonder how old she actually is? She looks like she is twenty-one, plus I've seen her drinking alcohol more than once, so she can’t be younger, right? I would not call her older than me, I'm sure. Therefore, I estimate that she may be about twenty-two years old. However, her low height and the clothes she used to wear make me puzzled, because if I look only at it, I would call her a teenager, maybe even a preschooler.

- I'll call you before I start work. I hope you are not asleep before eight. - she says with a smile that I reciprocate.

- No, I'm not sleeping. Relax, you have nothing to worry about. - I'm lying, because I usually get up at ten o'clock, but I would pick up my phone even if she was going to call in the middle of the night.

- That's good. - she smiles, hiding the card with my number in the pocket of her uniform. - I need to get back to work - she says, in a sweet voice, then moves away from the coffers in a lively step.

- I’m Rami, by the way - I'm screaming after her before she can get far away from where she would not hear me anymore. She only turns her head, and from her mouth movement I can read - "I know."

It does not take much to wonder how she knows my name. In fact, I immediately reject the idea of divorcing myself.

I sit back in my seat and let it out of my lungs. I'm still watching Y/N, until she finally disappears from the field of my vision as she enters through the dark door to the back.

I want to jump around the whole café; just shout and run around the tables, ignoring the others. I cover my mouth with a hand when a stupid, pride smile sneaks into it. With the fingers of the other hand I hit the table top, because my body is not able to behave calmly now.

Joy, excitement permeate all of me and I have the impression that any moment i will explode from the excess of intensity of these emotions.

I punish myself in my thoughts for procrastination with Y/N’s approach. She is so nice. Who knows, maybe if I started talking to her faster, we would be in a relationship that would bring us closer till we’d become a boyfriend and girlfriend; or at least friends with benefits.

#rami malek #rami malek imagine #imagine #one shot #imagine rami malek #mr robot #imagines #eliot alderson #freddie mercury #malek #rami malek x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #rami malek fanfiction #writing #writer #rami x reader

62 notes · View notes

cksiren · 6 years

Text

Caroline’s Roses - Chapter one: Orchard Lane

Hey guys! This is a story I started writing in 2015. It’s completely inspired by All Time Low, so I’m going to call it an Alex fic.

Caroline's life by the woods with her grandmother was going to change when the moving trucks rolled in, and a new boy arrived at school. She didn't really like how obnoxious he was, but she did like that familiar laugh and the way he said her name. Alex is happy to be home, but he has no idea what he missed while he was gone, and Caroline isn't sure she wants to dig up the past with him.

A U-Haul roared up the road, leaving dust in it's wake. The street hadn't been paved in a few decades; they were actually lucky if a pothole got filled in. It was as good as dirt nowadays. There were a few old-style, ranch houses dotting the dead-end road half a mile after you turned on to Orchard lane, really giving it that "out there in the woods" feel that the spaced-out inhabitants enjoyed.

Caroline heard the roar of the large truck's engine from the back porch, watering can in hand as she was about to step off and water the first sprouts of flowers in the gardens - It had been a rather dry spring, and she didn't want the seedlings to suffer. Distracted by the noise, she tried to see over the bushes but could only make out the orange and white top of the truck backing into the driveway of the house that sat diagonally across the street from her own.

The house had sat vacant for some time now. Caroline hadn't even noticed when the "For Sale - Berkshire Realty" sign had disappeared, even though she'd grown used to seeing it since she was in the fourth or fifth grade. She gripped the edge of the watering can tighter and pursed her lips, thinking back on the last family that had lived there and how God awful they had been, and how happy she and her grandmother had been when they left. She hoped these people would be as quiet and peaceful as the rest of the old couples living on Orchard Lane.

Afternoon sun hit her skin as she walked to the soon-to-be flower beds that needed watering. The late March temperatures still made her shiver a little in the mornings, but the sun brought promise of Spring.

---

For a week, the Halls of Hopewell High school were haunted by the presence of Alex Gaskarth, who had just moved from Manhattan, New York. Most people who heard this raised their eyebrows, wondering why in the world any family would move from metropolis to suburbia featuring a few rural routes. In a matter of days he became fast friends with almost everyone and fast enemies with anyone that sat up front in Mr. McKinnon's English class with the intent of paying attention. Caroline's eye twitched with annoyance as something else was thrown to the front of the room while the teacher's back was turned to the board, this time an eraser. The game seemed to be to throw as many things from the back without Mr. McKinnon noticing until there was a small pile of crap accumulated just before his desk.

"Watch out for the pretty girl," she heard a voice say behind her. Alex's, she was almost sure. "She didn't notice last time..." a different voice - Jack Barakat, seated right beside the other boy. Instantly Caroline's hand flew to the back of her head, sifting through her dark, shoulder length hair for any unwanted accessories.

Mr. McKinnon went on with his lecture, explaining something about Lenny's character sketch that the class was supposed to pick from Of Mice and Men. The girl sitting beside Caroline breathed a sigh of impatience that mirrored Caroline's own feelings.

"...As we've all been saying, Lenny's a gentle giant. Very misunderstood... Very dependent ..."

Another eraser flew to the front of the class, this time landing an inch away from her desk. Mr. McKinnon turned around to address the class on a point and for a moment, the objects stopped flying. "Now let's take a moment to focus on George. You all know he's Lenny's caretaker, making sure that every time they get into a mess, he gets them out of there and moves them onto the next place. So aside from the fact that he's very patient and very caring, what else makes him tick?"

He turned back to the board and as if on cue, this time a cheap blue pen landed with a clack at the side of the teacher's desk. Caroline rested her chin on her palm, tapping her foot with impatience.

"Hardworking, good," Mr. McKinnon was writing George's character trains with little arrows pointing to his name. "Sociable, that's a good one, he's a good talker..."

Another pen flew on the other side of Caroline's desk.

"Can you please just cut that out?!" Caroline whipped around to face the smirking Jack and Alex, making Mr. Mckinnon turn as well and the other students stare at her with wide eyes. "Some of us are actually trying to focus here," she spat, turning back and crossing her arms.

"Everything alright?" said the English teacher with a frown.

"Dandy!" Alex piped up from his seat. "We're just loud learners is all," he said playfully. Mr. McKinnon frowned again and shook his head, shrugging it off and turning back to his lecture.

When the class ended, Caroline rushed to pack up her notebook and pens. Color had crept into her cheeks since her outburst and she didn't want to be around long enough to give anyone the chance to say anything to her. "Loud learners," she muttered to herself as she zipped up the maroon backpack she used for school. "My ass."

"Hey!" Alex took a large step, trying to catch her attention just as she was about to turn towards the door to leave. "I'm sorry," he stated, before she could say anything, or pretend to ignore him.

Caroline shrugged, unsure if he was being sarcastic, finding a way to make fun of her or give her a hard time. "Whatever," she said lowly.

"No, seriously. I'm sorry, I'm just new here and it's rough. I'm trying to have a good time, you know? And come on. Of Mice and Men? Seriously most over-analyzed piece of literature out there next to To Kill a Mockingbird. Right?" He gave her a half smile, leaning one arm onto her desk. He was a good few inches taller than her, and he smelled like some kind of American Eagle cologne.

She paused for a minute, sizing him up. His eyes were a dark brown, and his smile was extremely friendly. His hair was sandy colored and messy. He had on a black tee-shirt with an unbuttoned shirt over it, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. "Right, well, that doesn't really make it ok for you to make it rough for everyone else," she said finally.

The smile disappeared from the boy's face as he straightened up. "I'm sorry," he said again, this time with a little pout. "Won't happen again, your highness. I'm Alex by the way," he stuck out his hand, as if trying to start anew.

"Cool," Caroline answered, turning away from the boy's peace offering to hear out the door. It had been a week since Alex had started haunting these halls, and Caroline already knew she didn't like him.

---

"How was school, dear?"

A question Caroline was accustomed to hearing upon walking through the front door to the house she and her grandmother shared. It was old, built in the 1800's, and much too big for a young girl and her grandmother. She was sat at the kitchen table, sifting through a crossword puzzle from the morning paper.

"It was fine," Caroline answered as she slipped off her backpack, placing it by the door. She walked around the stairwell towards the back of the house, where the kitchen was located. "I'm probably going to finish the book we're reading for English tonight. Got a 93 on that geometry test I was telling you about."

"That's great dear. Six letter word for a mystery that's already been solved?" Her grandmother asked.

"Riddle," Caroline replied as she reached into one of the cabinets for a glass. She filled it with tap water from the sink as her grandmother penciled in the answer that she gave. The older woman looked up for her paper, a smile playing across her wrinkled, tissue paper face.

"You're much better than me at these things," she said as she folded up the paper. "Going out to check on the garden soon?"

The teenager nodded, drinking down the last of the water in the glass and setting it on the counter. "In a moment. Did you see any of the new neighbors today?"

"No," her grandmother answered, shaking her head. "All quiet. Seems to be just a middle-aged couple looking for a quaint place to live. There was a Jeep that left early this morning though, they might have a son.”

Caroline frowned and reached into the pocket of her sweatshirt in search of a hair tie to pull her hair back. The last time they had assumed there was a middle-aged couple searching for a "quaint place to live" it had ended terribly. She knew that the same people couldn't have moved back, and it was foolish to think that tragedy could strike twice like that. It was years ago. But still, it made her nervous; she tried her best to shake the feelings of unease off her shoulders as she made her way to the back door.

The metal watering can sat where she always put it on the stone porch that led to the garden. She took a deep breath and winced at how cold the metal was in her hand, but decided instead to focus on the refreshing breeze and the clear blue sky. It had rained last night, leaving the watering can almost full, so she didn't waste any time refilling it with water from the hose. Besides, not every flower bed would need to be watered - just the roses that were closer to the back, under cover from a particularly voluptuous willow tree.

Caroline's backyard was the most peaceful place in the world to her. It was where she went to clear her head or to be alone, or to search for inspiration and motivation. In the Summer she could sit under the willow tree and read, or on the stone bench by the goldfish pond to listen to her grandmother tell her stories about her parents. In the fall, Caroline could walk past the garden to the Apple orchard and fill a basketful to bring back to the kitchen for fresh apple pies, cider, and whatever else she and her grandmother could come up with. It truly was a quaint life on Orchard Lane, and Caroline was very protective of it.

As soon as the rose bushes were within sight, Caroline could tell that something was not right. She stopped, gripping the watering can tighter, wondering if she should turn back to the house. It was probably just an animal that she heard rustling in the bushes, but it could be rabid, and that might be dangerous. "Hey," she said hoarsely, hoping the noise would scare whatever it was off. "Hey, Get out of there!"

"Ow!" at the sound of a person, Caroline's pulse started to race.

"Who's there?!" she demanded, setting the watering can down, ready to stand her ground. "Come out!"

The body of a teenaged boy erupted from the lilacs and the roses that sat right next to each other. Caroline groaned, stressing herself out as she wondered of the damage to the plants. "What on Earth are you doing?!" she asked as the stranger brushed off the leaves and twigs from his hair. It was only as he turned to face her with a wide-eyed, deer-in-headlights look that she recognized him.

"Hey! Girl from English,” said Alex, a lop sided grin playing on his face. “What are you doing around here?”

Caroline's eyes went wide with fury as the anxiety slacked off. "Excuse me?!" she started. "I LIVE here. YOU are intruding!"

"Wait a minute - you live here?" Alex’s voice dropped in volume; he looked taken aback. He stepped towards her, head cocked to one side, a hand reaching up to stroke the stubble on his chin. “For how long?”

Caroline was breathing heavily, desperately trying to calm her racing heart from the scare. “My whole life! And not once have any of these bushes grown a BOY!” she exclaimed, still waiting for an explanation for his sudden appearance.

Alex stared at her, his hand still covering his mouth in thought. His eyes looked her up and down.

"I'm going to call the police," Caroline stated, taking a step back, away from him. Color crept up her neck, nerves and anger swelled inside her chest.

"No, no," Alex raised his hands as if in surrender, "Don't do that. I'm sorry, I just moved across the street and... Jesus, your name is…" he swallowed. "Caroline, isn't it... Carrie?"

#Alex Gaskarth #Alex Gaskarth fanfiction #All Time Low Fanfiction

0 notes