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xyzcekaden · 3 years

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🚍 unsuspecting sunday afternoon 🚍

by me, xyzcekaden! a pokemon fanfic about when the one you hate to love is made for you

How capable is the human heart now?

fandom: pokemon, gen 3, advanced generation characters: ash, may, steven stone in a “supporting” role ship: advanceshipping genre: romance, angst themes: friendship, pre-relationship, slowburn, 6+1 if you squint setting: modern, hoenn, pokemon universe lite word count: 4.6k rating: T

read it below, on ffnet, or on ao3!

A/N (9.7.201): So this has been in my drafts since about April 2020 😅 Sure, I'm happy to finally share something new with the small yet strong advanceshipping fandom; but more than that, I'm relieved this document can no longer taunt me with its incompletion, hahaha. Do let me know what you think! Especially with this opening formatting; I'm trying something new. :)

Nothing sensitive in the fic, but the characters are all adults so it felt fitting to rate it T. Title taken from the song of the same name by the Backstreet Boys, and its lyrics/sentiments are interwoven throughout. The narrative is inspired and framed by monstaxnight's anonymous ask. If you recognise it, it doesn't belong to me. Thanks for reading!

~~~

fall for someone whose body would start fires

On a Saturday, May asked Ash to come over the next day. “I need a second opinion on something,” she had said. “It’ll be super quick.”

Of course, ‘super quick’ means Ash has enough time to set his switch up on May’s gigantic living room tv and play a few rounds of his favourite fighting video game while she gets ready for something or another in her room. He always acts like he has better things to do than help her with her sundry weekly ventures, but they both know he’d rather do ‘nothing’ with her than ‘something’ on his own somewhere else.

“Okay, Ash, are you ready?” May’s voice rings out. “Yeah,” he answers distractedly, strategically button smashing.

“So I kept the jeans from this last outfit, but this top I just got two weekends ago and haven’t had a chance to wear yet,” May narrates as she exits her room. “I had the, frankly, brilliant idea of using the jacket from Outfit 1 and pairing it with those heels you paid for for my birthday, et voila!”

The clacking of heels stops at the entrance of the hallway. “What do you think?’

Ash redirects his attention to May. His avatar dies on screen, just like his voice dies in his throat.

“You, um, you look great.”

In actuality, May looks smoking hot, but that’s not new for either of them. His best friend is supremely attractive, and he knew it and had no problem acknowledging it normally. This time, however, May doesn’t just look physically great, she also looks like she feels like she looks great. He doesn’t know how much sense that makes; but there is decidedly something different, and Ash feels a strange sense of dread in his chest.

May beams, taking the inarticulate response in stride. “Well that’s a winning endorsement if I ever heard one! Now let’s just hope Steven has as great of a reaction.” She turns to one of the many full-length mirrors stationed around her condo and reviews the outfit with a critical eye.

This brings Ash out from his stupor. “‘Steven’?” he repeats as he sits up on the couch. “You’re going on a date?”

“It’s not a date,” May replies in a tone that clearly conveys that she would not be opposed to it turning into a date. “My dad is having dinner with an old business partner, and the guy’s bringing his son along, so me and Max were invited, too. We were kinda friends back when we were young, but it’s not like we’ve kept in touch or anything. I just figured I should make a good second first-impression… You know, for my dad’s sake.”

Ash can tell the last bit was just something she’s telling herself to rationalise why she’s trying so hard, and it doesn’t sit right with him. He slinks back down on the couch dejectedly and halfheartedly starts a new game.

He finds himself wondering how often they hung out and how much whatever-that-number-was-teenth impressions were worth. He hopes it’s a lot.

~~~

fall for someone who always runs from his kiss

“… And I was right! They were roommates!” May boisterously ends her story, almost losing her ice cream to physics as she wildly gesticulates.

They’re just strolling around the park that’s honestly nowhere near either of their apartments; but over the years, it became their park anyway. They didn’t even set plans to hang out today, but it kinda just happened―a recurring theme in their friendship, admittedly.

For his part, Ash hides a smirk with a lick to his own ice cream, not bothering to say or do anything to protect her treat. If she hasn’t learned by now, she never would. “Oh my god, they were roommates,” he deadpans instead.

May sends him an unimpressed smirk and lightly smacks Ash’s shoulder. He yelps. She yanks her hand back as soon as she realises, but the damage is done.

He blinks down at the cold, vanilla, rainbow-sprinkled stain before raising his gaze to meet May’s equally stunned one.

They stare in silence for a moment, then May cracks a conciliatory grin. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry?”

He shrugs it off easily. “I probably deserved it,” he says, making peace with the knowledge that his previous unwillingness to protect her ice cream from any accidents is the undoubted origin for his current poor luck. He nods toward the path. “Shall we?”

“We passed by a restroom a little bit ago. We can clean you up,” May disagrees, tugging on his arm in the opposite direction.

“‘S fine,” he argues as he tries to continue walking forward.

“Ash, it’ll stain!” She tugs harder.

“It’ll be an improvement!” He’s overpowering her, but not as easily as he’d like.

“Why are you being such a butthead about this!?” She’s pulling with all her strength now, this being a matter of pride to her at this point.

“Come on, May!” Ash heaves one last time.

They tumble head over feet onto the ground, but that’s not the reason Ash feels like his world has turned upside down.

May’s body weighs comfortably on his, his hands naturally settle on her waist with hers on his chest, and his brown eyes bore into her blues. Their ice cream has fallen… somewhere, but Ash doesn’t concern himself with that considering this is the closest they’ve been since they first met.

They’ve been toeing this line since then, too.

I’m gonna do it, he thinks to himself.

He closes his eyes.

He leans in.

May scrambles away.

Ash sits up and blinks at the sight of May’s confused, furious eyes. “Ash, what are you doing?” Her voice croaks like her throat is dry. It makes him clear his own before dumbly responding, “I was trying to kiss you.”

“Why??” she asks, her voice strangled. He pushes himself off the ground warily as he watches her hold herself, bite her lip, shake her head in a panic; and somehow in all of that, he understands.

“I thought it wasn’t a date.” Ash tries so hard not to sound accusatory, but her wince in response proves it didn’t work. It also proves his fear correct.

He turns, hiding as if the people walking by could discern his transgression and shame by the sight of his face alone. Besides, his mind can conjure up an image of her running away just fine on its own.

Ash notices the remnants of their impromptu outing splattered on the ground near his feet. He picks up what he can and stomps over to the nearest trash bin, throwing it in as hard as he can to let out some of his frustration.

He hopes he hasn’t gone and screwed everything up.

~~~

fall for someone whose lips belong to someone else

They don’t talk about it, and then it’s too late.

“Ash, this is Steven,” she tells him softly, as if it could make up for how it feels like the sight of her arms wrapped around the guy’s torso and his arm casually thrown over her shoulder assaults him every time he blinks.

“Steven Stone. It’s great to finally meet you. May speaks of you highly,” Steven introduces with a dignified air. Not pompous, no; he is just someone who was raised being told that he was going to do important things and who happened to believe it.

They shake hands, and Ash’s fingers feel cold, a marked contrast to how there’s something in his chest that’s burning.

Inside the restaurant, the waitress asks if a table is okay, and no one asks for a booth instead. In his seat, Ash is neither directly in between nor directly across from the newly-established couple, and he wonders if this is where all his luck went into.

Lunch goes better than expected.

Ash was prepared to hate the guy, but what is there to hate? Steven has a decent sense of humour, loves pokemon but loves rocks even more, and is COO of the biggest enterprise in Hoenn. He is a safe, sensible choice. This guy isn’t going to break May’s heart.

As the meal winds down, Steven offers to pay for everyone; but Ash still has his pride. In the end, he manages to negotiate paying for just his own plate and drink, knowing he has no right to battle for the privilege of paying for May’s.

He wouldn’t even do so on a typical occasion anyway; but as far as Ash is concerned, Steven’s presence throws all of the friends’ typical rules of engagement out the window.

They say goodbye and part ways in front of the restaurant.

A few steps later, Ash snaps his fingers as he recalls something. He turns around to remind May of their movie plans in a few days, and he is met with the sight of the couple sharing a sweet kiss on the corner while waiting for the light to change.

Steven could never break May’s heart, but he sure can break Ash’s.

Ash turns back and continues walking. He hopes May can remember on her own.

~~~

fall for someone whose touch is way too much

May insists that nothing has changed between them, but clearly something has because Ash doesn’t remember ever being so anxious about her proximity before.

He had always been aware of her, though. Always. When your first meeting is saving the other from getting run over by a tour bus, you quickly develop the habit of keeping track of where the person is at all times.

Between his athleticism and her natural proclivity towards tactileness, casual physical exchanges quickly became their norm: hugs and high fives, friendly elbows in the rib after a good joke and sharing a blanket as they watch a movie, (lingering touches on the shoulder and holding hands even after they’ve escaped a crowd… or did he make those up?).

They were controlled yet unmistakably affectionate markers of their relationship.

But now?

When she shifts one centimetre closer to him in line at the mall food court, he accidentally overpays by fifty pokeyen out of distraction. When she grabs his fork out of his hand to try a piece of his takoyaki, he jerks so hard at the contact that he spills his soft drink all over the table. When she pats him dry using flimsy food court napkins with a joke about ice cream in her voice and fondness in her eyes, he needs to claim a rapid-onset fever in order to give himself an excuse to cut their lunch short immediately.

These innocent touches have been an ever-present facet of their friendship since basically the beginning; and even when he realised he was in love, they hadn’t affected him like this.

Things are different now, despite what she says.

Well, maybe not things; maybe just him.

He had allowed himself to revel in their familiar touches when she was single because he could, because there was no one else that she was supposed to be able to make feel like this. Even if the feeling wasn’t meant for him, it wasn’t meant for anyone else either.

But now.

He can’t, in good conscience, allow his heart to rush and his smile to form and his hand to squeeze back. It wouldn’t be fair to May, not when she’s trusting him with her friendship and he’s taking more from her than that.

Even though he’d like nothing else than to keep that closeness, to go back to how it was between them before, this is the way it has to be now. He just hopes she can understand.

~~~

fall for someone he doesn’t want to feel for

On sleepless nights, he wonders when.

He knows the who, what, why, and how; but the when eludes him.

...

They were both breathing heavy, attention focused on the spot of the road where the girl would have flattened like a pancake if it weren’t for his quick reflexes and hero complex.

The clapping of a few passers-by snapped them out of their shock and into the realisation that he still had her protectively cradled to his chest.

They quickly broke apart, and he took the time to wave off the praise from the gathered crowd while she checked her purse to see if everything was inside.

“You got everything?” he asked after people’s attentions finally turned back towards their own lives.

“Yeah, I do,” the girl replied, and her voice was rather cheery considering the ordeal she just survived. (He would later learn that was her default.)

“Great,” he said, genuine yet awkward.

They continued staring at each other. The adrenaline from their brush with danger hadn’t worn off yet; his heart was still beating very fast.

“So, um, have a good day,” he bade after it was clear neither of them had anything more to say. He made to return to his errands, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

“You saved my life, and you’re just gonna walk away?” she asked incredulously.

He blinked at her. “I’ll be honest; I wasn’t aware there was an after-action protocol for this sort of situation.”

She was incredulous for only a second before she giggled at him. “The least I can do is buy you lunch to say ‘thank you.’”

“Well, I’ve never turned down a free meal,” he accepts with a grin.

She giggled again then stuck out her hand. “My name’s May.”

“Ash.”

...

No, it wasn’t then. Nor was it during the meal they shared, nor at the bar where they happened to see each other that weekend, nor while they were escaping from the bar fight that she accidentally instigated that night.

...

“Is this going to become a running gag? Will I have to constantly be saving you from trouble you unintentionally get yourself into?” Ash panted after he directed her to duck into a nearby alley.

“Hey, as far as I’m concerned, this automatically makes me the most interesting friend you’ve got,” May countered.

He took one extra second to check no one was following them then cut a glance at her. “I don’t know about you, but most of my friends have my number.”

She rolled her eyes with a smile. “Smooth.” They switched phones and exchanged numbers.

“Better memorize that by heart,” he jested as he handed her her phone back. “Don’t wanna waste your one phone call at the station just because you mixed up the last two digits by accident.”

“If the next time you hear from me is because I went and got myself arrested, just leave me to rot. I must have earned it,” she smirked.

...

Luckily, the next time one of them reached out to the other wasn’t to bail the former out of jail. May invited him to a pool party for her birthday, where he handily won a water balloon fight and impressed everyone by fixing the grill for their barbeque. Their friendship continued to progress naturally: movie nights that turned into impromptu sleepovers, brunches that turned into walks around town. Several shopping trips and video games and hikes later, they were each other’s best friends. It was basically inevitable.

So when? When would he have had the chance to fall in love with her?

...

“Hello?”

“Ash, you picked up!” she sounded surprised―happy, but surprised―and he winced. He knew he’d been blowing her off a little more often lately, but making her think he’d turn down her phone call?

“Heh, yeah, sorry about that,” he said, betting on the hope that she somehow implicitly understood everything he was apologising for. “Is everything okay?”

For an extended second, she was quiet, then she said, “I need to tell you something.”

His hackles rose, and he started grabbing his keys and putting on his shoes. Maybe she finally ended up in jail. “Where are you? I can be there in ten minutes, maybe twenty with traffic―”

She giggled, and he paused. That was her nervous giggle. “May?” he asked, still wary but not about to race out of his house with only his boxers on.

“No! No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just… Steven told me he loves me.”

His breath left his lungs.

“And I told him I love him back,” she continued.

All the adrenaline that had surged through his body only moments before completely left him at her words, and his limbs locked up instead. He felt cold.

“Hello?”

He didn’t even realise he had sunk to his knees until he meant to take a step back towards the couch. He just slumped onto his butt. “That’s―” He had to clear his throat. “That’s gotta be recent.”

He could slap himself. He sounded as dead as he felt. He tried again: “I mean, that’s great news, May! He’s a lucky guy. Yeah.”

She sighed with relief. Could Steven tell what her sighs meant over the phone? ”I’m the lucky one, I think,” she said happily, and that was his last straw.

“Heh, yeah, well,” he sputtered out, just to have something to say. “Listen, since you’re not in danger or anything, uh, you actually caught me at a bad time, so I gotta go. I’ll catch you later, yeah?”

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

“Wait, Ash! Before you go!”

He held back a sigh. “What’s up, May?”

“It’s just… You’re right; it is recent. You’re actually the first person I told.”

“I’m honoured.” He couldn’t help the sarcasm that spilled out, but he backtracked quickly. “I mean it. Thank you for telling me.”

“Of course, Ash; I tell you everything. At this point, it’s like I have to; nothing would ever feel real otherwise.”

He shut his eyes. He really couldn’t take this anymore. “I know what you mean. Same here.”

She made a cute sound, a quiet little ‘hmm,’ and that was when the first tear spilled out. “Alright, I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’ll text you later!!” she promised.

“Later,” he repeated, both an echo and a goodbye; and finally, blissfully, he ended the call.

...

When, when, when?!

That was supposed to be one of the sweetest moments of her young adult life, and she called on him―trusted him, even―to be happy for her. When did he get to the point where he couldn’t even do that? Instead, he recalls it now as he struggles to fall asleep, playing the memory at half-speed over and over again in his imagination, and all he does is hope.

He desperately hopes it’ll stop hurting so much.

~~~

fall for someone with the sweetest rebel heart

When he finds out he didn’t get the promotion he was vying for at work, there’s no one else’s comfort he sought but May’s.

“I’m sorry that happened, Ash,” May soothes as she rubs rhythmic circles into Ash’s back. They’re in her condo, noticeably nicer maintained than Ash’s flat, side by side on the sofa. It is the first time he’s let her touch him in weeks, and he really needs it. “At least now they know you’re interested? It might be your turn next time.”

Ash snorts but nods anyway. He’s usually the type to look at the bright side, but it would be an understatement to say that he is simply disappointed. After all the L’s he’s been taking in his personal life, he had been hoping at least something would go his way professionally.

May continues, “Just make sure not to let this setback actually set you back. Keep putting your best foot forward, and I know you’ll win those guys over… just like you did with me!” She ends with a wink, trying her hardest to inject some levity into the situation.

Just like that, Ash’s mood sours even more. “You can’t say that to me, May,” he angrily replies as he shuffles out of her hold.

“What are you talking about?” she pouts as she feebly tries to get him to lay back against the couch so that the cold air can’t get under the blanket they are sharing.

“I didn’t ‘win you over,’ clearly.” He shrugs off her touch and scoots away. He has spent so long trying to keep his bitterness inside, but he doesn’t have the emotional wherewithal to regulate himself right now. He’s tired of trying to get over things that make him upset.

May frowns, the furrow between her brow getting deeper as she sits up straight on the sofa. “Ash, why are you talking like that? I meant, like, how we became friends, obviously. I didn’t grow to love you by accident.”

Ash stands then, balling the blanket up and throwing it back on the couch. “I bet Steven wouldn’t be too happy to hear you say that.”

She follows suit, her voice elevating in volume as if to match. “I bet Steven wouldn’t appreciate being judged by someone who’s only met him once―despite my efforts otherwise, might I add.”

“I bet Steven would love to hear his girlfriend say she loves another guy.”

“I bet Steven isn’t dumb enough to think I can’t love you both.”

“You don’t love me, May!” Ash finally explodes.

He has never raised his voice like this, not to her, but he’s tired. He’s tired of loving someone he can’t have, he’s tired of hating himself for it, and he’s tired of the guilt when he takes it out on her despite all his attempts not to.

She looks like she’s torn between yelling right back or kicking him out; and before she could make up her mind, he collects himself enough so he could bring his voice down. He states simply, “Not the way you love Steven.” Not the way I love you.

He doesn’t say it, but he can tell she hears it anyway. He clears his throat and turns around, trying to hide without running away. “Hearts don’t work like that,” he murmurs into the room.

He makes to leave, but May’s hand on his shoulder stops him. She forcibly turns him back to face her, and Ash is shocked at the determined set to her face. Her eyes, bluer than a water stone and twice as powerful, hold him as captive as they always have. “You listen to me, Ash Ketchum.” Her tone brokers no argument. “If you thought for a second that I stopped loving you because I fell in love with Steven, you clearly underestimated what my heart is capable of.”

Her grip on him tightens, as if making sure he is still with her in the moment. “It’s big enough for the both of you; and if that’s not the way hearts are supposed to work, then I’ll just be the exception that proves the rule.”

She pulls him into a hug then, like locking that promise between them, and he dares let himself hope she means that.

~~~

fall for someone whose heart needs sewing up

Ash wasn’t expecting a knock on his door this late at night, and he definitely wasn’t expecting to see a beautifully made up May Maple standing in the hallway, mascara-tinged tears and runny nose notwithstanding.

"Steven is moving to Alola to support Devon Corp’s expansion," is all she said, but even that much is hard to make out through her watery voice.

The news sinks in, and Ash’s heart feels like someone moved it three centimetres to the left: still there, still functional, but not at all where he needs it to be.

"You’ve always talked about going to Alola," is the only way he could respond, thinking of all the times they’ve imagined taking a week off and vacationing in the tropical region. He won’t, can’t let himself think about anything else or else he’d break down.

In his heartbreak, he cannot recognise May's tears, which are too raw and too loud to be that of someone bearing regrettable news. These are the tears of a confused, broken heart.

"Ash, I'm not going," she sniffles, still stiffly standing outside his door. "He asked me not to."

Finally understanding that he misunderstood, Ash is even more disoriented than he was before. "Why would he do that?" he asks, obviously still trying to wrap his mind around what the hell was happening.

"I don’t know!" May yells while clenching her fists and stomping a high-heeled foot. It is the most movement she's made since he opened the door. "I demanded a reason, and he spewed nonsense at me! He said―" and she stops. Her whole body slumps back into stillness but without the stiffness of before. She continues quietly, "He said he didn’t want to see what I’d look like with my heart so far outside of my chest," like a guilty confession. Ash is at once reminded of their almost-fight a month ago, and he still isn’t sure what this all means.

He almost asks, Why wouldn’t he believe your heart was right where you were? or How capable is the human heart now? but he doesn’t.

Instead, he finally welcomes May inside. He sits her on the couch and helps her take off her heels before she wraps herself up in the blanket he keeps there―a blanket he only has, he remembers, because when she first visited his apartment, she insisted his couch needed one. She doesn’t just hold the blanket around her shoulders; she hides her entire frame within its folds. He merely sits on the couch next to the lump and places a solitary hand on top, unsure where it was resting yet hoping it is providing comfort nevertheless.

He wonders if May ever let Steven see her like this, the way she needs to shut out all stimuli as if to physically recreate her darkest moments. He wonders why he loves that she does that, even though it causes him so much selfish pain to be close enough to see her like this but shut out from her healing.

"I don’t think I have a boyfriend anymore," May says at length, voice dampened by the space and fabric between them.

It would have been the happiest news of Ash’s adult life if it weren’t for the extreme melancholy that laced her tone as she said it out loud.

He squeezes his hand into a fist on top of the blanket, his signal that he’d like to hug her if he could.

"I would have missed you if you left." Ash gives a nonsequitur-confession in response. May burrows deeper into the blankets and says nothing.

Instead, she reaches a hand out from a heretofore unseen opening in the fabric and holds on to his other hand tightly.

Ash stares at her slender knuckles, made paler from her firm grasp, and stops hoping.

He gently plies her fingers from his palm and tries not to feel guilty about the shocked, embarrassed way the hand pulls back into the blanket as he leaves her there.

The love of his life needs compassion right now. This is not his opportunity to sweep her off her feet; this is not his second chance.

He returns from the bedroom, settles back into his place on the couch, and forces May out of the blanket.

~~~

May jerks her head up, shocked and angry and still embarrassed from her rejected attempt to seek Ash’s comfort, but she is quickly mollified into confusion. The expected sight of Ash’s lit up form in his lit up living room ends up being no different from the blackness from which she thought she was rudely taken.

It is so dark under the extra, larger blanket that she can’t even see Ash’s nose even though she can sense his head is mere inches from hers.

His hands find hers in the darkness and squeeze. Relief flashes through her as she finally surrenders to the deep, thick slice of heartbreak.

May wants to see his face, but she settles for a hug.

#pokemon #pokemon fanfiction #advshipping #advanceshipping #ash ketchum #may maple #aamaylove #satoharu #unsuspecting #xyzc*

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vanaera · 5 years

Text

Of Cliches and Romcom Tropes

Synopsis | You find yourself literally living a classic Romcom trope by being the nerdy introvert in love with her unexpected friend, Kim Taehyung, your university’s golden theater boy and campus heartthrob. It only turns more disgustingly cliché when you learn he part-times as a prince actor in the same carnival where you work as a ticket booth attendant. Trusting on the clichés you’ve watched in numerous Romcom films, you embark on a plan to get your crush to like you back this Halloween. Pairing | prince actor!taehyung x ticket booth attendant!oc Genre | So much fluff, slight angst, humor that’s close to being crack Wordcount | 10,184 AU | Carnival Prompt | “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.” – “I bet you tell everyone that.” Warnings | None A/N | This is for @foreverpark’s Halloween Writing Challenge! It’s my first time joining a challenge like this so thank you so much Sarah for giving me an opportunity to experience this! For my hons out there, here’s my Halloween fic for you! Please also check out Sarah’s fics and the other fics for this challenge, they’re all great! Happy reading!

At every start of success story speeches, there is a ninety percent probability you will hear “Fake it ‘til you make it.” How Mark managed to chance upon an idea of an app, How Sarah snagged the director position she dreamed of, how introverted Kim developed progressive networks–it is an imperative that saying will pop out in every single one of these stories. Well, except yours, because it’s the other way around in your life. At times “Fake it ‘til you make it’ does makes a cut, but in most of your major life events where you desperately wished for it to work, it doesn’t really work. You know because you’ve long tried to fake you’re so invested in your part-time job, only for you to cry out at night that you didn’t want to do it anymore.

Sitting on an uncomfortable stool with a small fan on your right as reprieve from the heat, you spend most of your day with cramped legs inputting number of tickets sold, handing over ticket stubs, becoming an instant customer service attendant, and smiling through clenched teeth at the people that stop by your booth. Working the most boring job in the carnival is not something you can fake to enjoy until you make enough savings for your college tuition. That is, until Kim Taehyung came.

“Wonder boy” is an extreme understatement to describe that guy. Kim Taehyung is cute and has a model-esque body and his voice sounds so nice when he’s in his prince costume entertaining the kids who enter the Fairytale Land booth. Okay, maybe you’ve been staring at him too long than you’re supposed to when you’re at work. But in your defense, you’ve known Kim Taehyung long before you discovered he also part-times at the Enchanted Carnival–long enough for you to harbor a massive, embarrassing crush on the boy.

Kim Taehyung studies in the same university as you and you first saw him the day you didn’t attend your history class just so you can prepare for your midterms in the said subject–the irony of college students’ philosophy. That day, you just entered a classroom you frequent for study purposes, knowing it will be empty during your history period. Except for that day because the moment you pushed open the door, a stable vibrato echoing within the rooms’ walls halts in an awkward coughing fit.

Your anxiety-driven nerves immediately take over you. “Uhh, I’m sorry I just barged in I didn’t mean to interrupt you–”

“No, it’s o-okay,” the boy coughs, hitting his chest repeatedly. “I was just su-surprised.”

“I’m really sorry for interrupting you,” you take a step back, your hand grasping for the knob. “Continue on, I’ll just find another room–”

“No, it’s okay, you can share the room with me.”

“A-are you sure?” you squint, still rooted at the door. “You don’t have like, a class in here or something? You have a projector set up on the teacher’s desk.”

“Nah, it’s just my prop when I do my final runs.” He walks to the projector and flips down its lens cover. A picture of a wooden fort set in what looks like cobble-stoned streets of 18th century France flashes on the white board. “See?” The boy turns to you, grinning. “I’m cutting just like you. No pressure, mate. Stay.”

“B-but you’re practicing, I may distract you.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind some audience–unless, you get distracted from studying by music, then I’ll go and find–”

“No, it’s okay,” you chuckle. “I don’t get distracted by music. I love music. Actually, I like listening to songs while I study so yeah, go on.” You set your papers on the nearest seat and plop down.

“You do?” The boy asks and you find yourself smiling at his beaming face. You’ve never seen someone who smiles so bright like him on a constant-interaction basis.

“Yeah, I do. By the way, what are you singing for?”

“Oh yeah,” the boy scratches his nape, reds forming on the tips of his ears. “uh, this is for my Drama club. I’m still in the application process and we have this task to play and perform as a theater character tomorrow Friday. I wanted to do Jean Valjean from Les Miserables.”

“Wow, that’s great,” you smile, “actually I’m studying for my History midterms, so yeah, your practice is very timely. You can be my background music,” you chuckle, “to give me the better feel of what I will be crying over later back at my home.”

Taehyung laughs and you chuckle before going back on your own devices. An hour and a half passes with you flipping furiously through your reviewer in time with the instrumentals behind Taehyung’s velvet voice. When the bell rings and the afternoon class scheduled in the room starts to form a mini clique outside, you scramble out the door with a mess of papers pressed to your chest and a new name to mull over during your breaks: Kim Taehyung.

Unlike what you predicted, that encounter was not the last you will have with the theater boy. You had a couple of classes with him in the next semester and he sat next to you in each lectures. You also became partners for a pair project in your Communication Theories class. Kim Taehyung became a regular presence in your college life that at the end of your sophomore year, you knew his dream of becoming a theater actor, all his likes, dislikes and insecurities, and even his secrets he said his friends knew none of like “Y/N, do you know I used to dream of becoming a Disney prince? Not used to, actually I still low-key dream of playing Shang from Mulan just so I can sing ‘Make a Man Out of You.’” You never imagined you would hit up such a friendship with someone who’s the total polar opposite of you. Taehyung’s a social butterfly while you hate going out of your house. He knows almost three-fourth of the total population in the university with him getting to manage nine clubs while still maintaining his academics. In total contrast to you who never got to join any organizations, too afraid of making commitments you neither can fulfill nor prioritize over staying at home and reading your fiction books. Not to say Taehyung’s on the top of the strata with his handsome looks, blessed physique, impressive talent, and wide range of friends. While you’re someone who easily blends with the crowd’s background noise, with nothing too much to offer but a small group of friends and a fascination for critiquing movies–especially those that are really bad.

You guess that people say, “Opposites attract” for a reason because when you and Taehyung move on to sophomore year, you find yourself crushing hard on the boy. However for you, the attraction is definitely going to be one-sided. You’re sure of it because how can Taehyung ever like you back? You’re the epitome of average-ness that you even became the stepping stone for the girls who want to snag a date with Taehyung. Of course you wouldn’t let Taehyung miss out on cute girls he can probably date when he can have any girl he wish to be with. And, you’re too chicken to act out even a hint of your feelings for him. Clammy hands, jumpy heart, and equipped with an instinct to run to the opposite hall when you so much as glance at Taehyung’s approaching figure, you are sure he will be the death of you. Everything turns worse when you learn he part-times this summer break in the same carnival you work pathetically.

“Yo, Y/N, you work here, too?” Taehyung nears you, clad in a white polo dangerously unbuttoned down his chest, navy trousers that cinches his narrow hips, and brown combat boots. He is also wearing an unbuttoned red military jacket, its shoulder pads making his shoulders look broader than they’d ever been. A rich red cape embellished with golden details flows behind him, complementing the gold tassels on his jacket and his golden crown that makes him look impossibly more ethereal. He fucking looks like a brunet Howl from Howl’s Moving Castle.

You consciously glance down at your outfit: sweat-stained purple polo shirt with Enchanted Carnival’s logo embroidered on its breast pocket, tucked in generic black slacks that doesn’t fit you well. When you reach up to tuck the stray strand of hair that escapes your ponytail, you’re reminded you’re still wearing the silly mandatory headband with pink bunny ears. Your face feels oily, your hair’s unwashed, and you just remembered you’re not wearing any makeup on. Great, you fucking look like all college students’ worst job nightmare.

“Hey, you’re still there?”

“Ye-yeah, uh, hi, Tae,” you smile awkwardly, snatching your headband off and hiding it behind your back. You tried to make yourself look less embarrassing but it backfired when all short strands of your hair messily spill down to your cheeks. You smile wider. Okay, this is the worst day ever.

“I didn’t know you’re also working here,” Taehyung says.

“Umm, yeah. I forgot to tell you, I’m sorry–”

“No, no, no, it’s okay!” Taehyung waves his hands, laughing. “In fact this is great!”

“Great?” You want to jump off from a cliff right on.

Taehyung remains oblivious in your self-pity and just grins. “Yeah, it means I get to see you everyday even when we’re outside uni!”

“We do see each other outside uni. I tutored you for six months straight in the library.”

“Yeah, but I mean, it’s nice we get to be co-workers. It’s good to have a familiar face around so work wouldn’t be so boring. Say, Y/N, why don’t we have lunch at the cafeteria later? I have so many to tell you and–”

“Yah, Kim Taehyung! You’re up next, what are you doing outside?” you glance behind your friend and see Jimin, dressed in the same uniform as you minus the silly headband, wildly waving for the boy in front of you. When Jimin notices you, he breaks into a smile, “Oh, hi, Y/N,” and then he returns to his agenda. “Taehyung come here quickly! The batch of kids is nearing the Princess’ Castle, boss is gonna chew us out if you didn’t get back to the booth in three!”

Taehyung sighs and looks at you with shoulders drooped. “I have to go back now. Guess, I’ll see you later?”

“Okay, later, then. Have fun, Tae,” you wave at him with a smile.

When you head back for your booth, you cross your fingers and hope you don’t see him later. How can the universe do you this dirty by placing him so near you right when you are at your worst?

At the end of the day, you learn the universe just does you dirty for the hell of it. Taehyung bounds your way for lunch break in his prince costume, grinning stupidly just when you’re about to sneak off to the comfort rooms. Nevertheless, you accept the lemons life is giving you and decide to relish in your crush’s presence as you joke over lunch. You just didn’t expect that day will start an unannounced routine with Taehyung eating lunch with you and him walking you home after your shifts for the rest of your summer break. The seemingly grey area in your friendship with Taehyung turns more mind-boggling when the man keeps up with the routine even after the summer break has ended, with you two continuing your part-time jobs at the carnival every weekend.

Truth be told, your set-up with Taehyung is a blessing in disguise. He may see you greasy-faced, constantly suffering at work, and daily pissed at your cramped station with poor ventilation but at least you get to see the man you fell in love with everyday. Not just the Taehyung who’s the campus crush and the talented actor every kid in the carnival loves. But the Taehyung who stays up with you until three in the morning talking about what you want for yourselves, who genuinely laughs at your puns and memes everyone else finds corny, and who tells you he’s enjoying himself in his job because finally, he gets to act like a Disney prince.

So when you find yourself only falling for Taehyung deeper, getting over him becomes the last resort in your to-do list. You start to let yourself get ahead of you and assume that maybe, just maybe, there is a chance Taehyung likes you back. Or else he wouldn’t do all those things with you with his stare lingering on your face, and his hand brushing against your own on multiple occasions you swear are not conjured up by your lovesick heart. Right?

With the Halloween season closing in and your part-time contracts at the carnival nearing its end, you are compelled to finally make a move on Taehyung. The carnival is the only place where your social and visual gap matters the least. You’re going to get an answer from him before this perfect chance expires. All you have to do now is have courage for the things you’re about to do and you pray that this time, the universe lets you successfully fake it ‘til you make it.

***

Plan 1: The Makeover Montage

You’ve watched enough Romcom films to know that a good makeover montage creates an obvious statement that a woman is about to claim her man. And so, you started making your wallet cry and your fingers ache by splurging on cosmetic brands and watching YouTube makeup tutorials. You’re proud of yourself when by the time Monday rolls in, you are confident you can pull off the cat wing and coral peach color scheme you learnt in exchange of sleep-deprived nights.

You wait by your locker and glance at your watch. 7:48 A.M. Great, just in time. You look down on your outfit: a white ruffled blouse tucked in a pink and yellow plaid skirt. Spending three hours planning today’s outfit was totally worth it, you mentally pat yourself.

Three minutes pass and then the bell chimes. You stand up straight and crane your neck to look for your target. Amy from History, Dave from Economics, Amanda from the College Secretary’s Office, Jimin from Arts and the Enchanted Carnival–There! Kim Taehyung.

Taehyung catches your eye and waves at you. He whispers something to Jimin before he bounds toward you. “Hi, Y/N. Didn’t know you’re an early bird now. I thought your first class today is later at eleven thirty?”

“U-um, I have so-something to pass to Ms. Terry at the Department of Arts and Communication,” you laugh awkwardly.

“Oh is that so? Wait,” Taehyung looks at you, eyes wide. “Is it a homework I may have forgotten to do at home?”

“N-no! There’s no homework! It’s just uh–a follow-up on a project!”

“A project? Did Ms. Terry announce any project? I’m sorry, I’m just confused because we take her class together and–”

“It’s a personal project!” you interject with a grin. “I…uh, I’ve been working on it since last month. I forgot to tell you about it, but it’s not much, just a collection of…news clippings.”

“News clippings, hmm, that sounds interesting. Tell me about it at lunch, I will go ahead now to my first period,” Taehyung steps back and makes a salute, his alternative of a goodbye wave to you. “Good luck with your project!”

“Wa-wait, Tae!”

Taehyung halts in his steps and looks at you. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“I–uh, did you notice anything new today?”

“New?” Tehyung tilts his head. “Is it a new promo for the diner we frequent?”

“Uhh, no.”

“Umm,” Taehyung bites his lip, “is it a new movie you sent to me in our Discord?”

“Uh, also no. And, I will gush about a movie first to you in person before I send it to our Discord.”

“Oh, right,” Taehyung chuckles. “Is it a new book then?”

“No.”

“New supplies in the bookstore you love?”

“No.”

“A new flavor of coffee in the vending machine?”

“No.

“A new–”

“Goddamn it, Taehyung, you know what, just go to your class,” you purse your lips and Taehyung gawks at you.

“W-why? Did I say something wrong, Y/N?”

“No, it’s just, you’re so obliviou–UGH!”

“‘Obliviou-ugh?’” Taehyung looks more confused than ever he’s been in his life.

You take in deep breath and take it as a signal for you to retreat. “Don’t mind me it’s just my mood swing!” you holler as you turn your back and walk fast to the exit. Following-up with a faint “See you later!” to the bewildered boy by the time you step out the hallway.

After what happened today, you guess Taehyung won’t easily notice your makeover with just one encounter. You decided to keep it consistent for the rest of the week, waking up earlier to curl your hair and apply makeup before going to your classes. And every day you kept trying something new – a change of shade in the lip gloss, a swipe of a bolder eye shadow, a shift from preppy to sophisticated clothing styles–Taehyung still fails to notice anything. Even when you turn up for your shift in the carnival with full-on makeup for the very first time, Taehyung just passes you by with his usual demeanor.

“Hi, Y/N!”

“Hi Tae!” You cringe at how chirpy you sound. “Umm, you look exceptionally good today!”

“Yeah?” Taehyung looks at his clothes, the same Howl costume he always wears in his shift. “Well, I look like this everytime in my shift so thanks?”

“But, have you noticed anything new today?” you bat your mascara-laden lashes for emphasis.

“New?” Taehyung leans closer to you and this time you feel your heart pounding in suspense. Of course he’ll notice it now, you never wear this much makeup at work–

“Oh, your ID lace!” Taehyung snaps his fingers, grinning. “Right, you changed your ID lace, how can I miss out on it? You always complain about the neon orange you used to have and now it’s black just like how you always want.”

You balk at him. “Uhh, it’s still the ones provided by the staff. They just changed the color.”

“Yeah, isn’t that great? You’ve always wanted a black ID lace! Remember when you used to tell me you’re gonna file a petition to change the neon orange lace to black? It’s finally black!” Taehyung claps you on the back and then makes his signature salute. “See ya later at lunch Y/N. And congrats to the ID lace!”

You poke your cheek with your tongue in annoyance. You’ve done such a good job perfecting your makeup and all he notices is just your ID lace?! What the motherfucking–

Okay, maybe Taehyung doesn’t get makeover montages. You cross Plan 1 out and step up to Plan 2.

Plan 2: The Assertive Approach

If Taehyung can’t notice physical changes, maybe this time, he can notice behavioral changes. In the films you have watched, you’ve seen countless protagonists be successful in catching the eye of their love interests by changing their flirting style. You’ve always dreamt of becoming like Julia Roberts in her hit romance films: confident, bold, and unafraid to make the first move. So this time, you get to finally be the woman of your dreams and you hope she can also entice the man inside your heart.

You started your metamorphosis by sitting closer to Taehyung during lectures, leaning closely to him whenever he’s talking with you, closing the space between your faces with a mere inch of breath. You also let your hands do the speaking for you whenever you walk home from work, masking the frequent brushing of your fingers against his, an obvious open invitation for him to hold your hand, seemingly accidental. But whatever you do, Taehyung still can’t get any hint. He’ll just smile at you and proceed to what he’s doing without even a waver in his tone.

Fueled with desperation, you decide to cross the boundary from subtle to blatant assertion in your lunch break with Taehyung.

“Today’s a pretty beat day,” Taehyung remarks, taking off his sweaty cape. “Some teens decided to not go with the usual flow of the booth and visit the stops in reverse. I felt sorry for Jimin. He looked so stressed manhandling each teen out of the booth and giving them a stricter run-over of the booth’s rules.”

“Yeah?” You slide closer next to his seat and cross your legs. “Then what about you, did the teens made fun of you? I heard from Seokjin that Lisa almost broke down when they poked around her unicorn costume.”

“I’m glad I’m the last stop. Jimin already entered the booth when the kids made the ruckus at Lisa’s stop.” Taehyung sighs, running his hand through his damp fringes. “I couldn’t imagine myself dealing with such troublesome people. If I were in Lisa’s place, I would have already been screaming at them for being bastards at such a young age. It’s a relief, it didn’t happen. I would have lost this job.”

“I’m glad, too, you didn’t get hurt.” You lean towards him, resting your head against his shoulder. You felt him stiffen in his seat and you smile. “I would have been so worried, you know. I don’t know what I will do,” you grab his hand, intertwine it with yours, and look up at him, “if I don’t see you around here anymore.”

“Really?” Taehyung turns to you and you nod. He smiles. “Thanks, Y/N, for your concern. I would feel the same if you were to experience that. Oh, we should probably eat now, our food’s getting cold.” Taehyung immediately detaches his fingers from yours, leaving you gaping in your seat.

Your lunch proceeds like usual and the awkward hand-holding you pulled off was never brought up again. Like Plan 1, you kept Plan 2 consistent for the week. However, Taehyung still remains painfully oblivious.

Plan 2 is unsuccessful so you cross it out and decide it’s time to take your game to the full notch.

Plan 3: The Vixen’s Touch

If Taehyung can’t recognize physical and behavioral changes, he cannot miss out on a temptation handed over on a silver platter. Plan 3 is the ultimate overkill. No one can resist the seductive vixen. You already braved through doing a Julia-Roberts-character. Going for the longest mile with Megan Fox shouldn’t be a problem. This is probably just your ego talking but you’re not gonna let the smallest bit of shame creep in to you now. Not now, when you’re putting all your cards on the table for Taehyung’s heart. This is all or nothing.

You see, the Vixen’s Touch is the epitome of all Romcoms’ super power move. Just one scene is enough to turn the tables around and let the heroine achieve whatever outcome she desires. However, such great power comes numerous setbacks. One can only do a vixen move once and never more because if it’s overdone, it will lose it’s mystery, charm, and power–everything that makes it an effective Romcom move. So, you planned your Vixen Touch meticulously.

You can’t do a Megan-Fox-move at school because you’ll attract too much attention, especially with Taehyung who’s already at the spotlight of social interactions. Instead, you will pull it off in the carnival, where you can have your crush all to yourself without worrying about ambitious bitches intruding your scenario. You’ll enter the Fairy Tale booth during your break time and sneak to the backstage from the “Authorized Personnel Only” door on the left of the second stop. From there, you will do Lisa’s advice to take a right turn and then a left. It will lead to a connecting hallway that ends with the red curtains behind the Princess’ Castle. There, you’ll surprise Taehyung, who’s waiting for the princess’ cue, with a tingling touch against his spine and a sexy and breathy, “Hi, Tae.” Taehyung will be shocked and you’ll close the gap between the two of you. With the dark setting and the seemingly scandalous set-up, the thrilling mood will compel you to lean towards him and he will close his eyes and interlock his lips with yours in a passionate kiss. If you make it fast to the connecting hallway, you will have enough alone time with Taehyung before the batch of people even reaches the third stop from the princess’ castle. You grin to yourself. Your plan has never been this perfect.

Weekdays pass with you continuing your Assertive Approach. Taehyung’s still clueless, making the transition to Plan 3 much more thrilling. When Saturday finally rolls in, you set your game-est face on.

It’s a week before Enchanted Carnival’s Halloween Party, which means the management is lenient on the part-timers’ work uniforms. After all, you only have one week left before you end your contracts. And so, you pull out your fanciest casual outfit–a little red dress with off-shoulder sleeves, partnered with fishnet stockings that go well with your black combat boots. You also perfected your makeup: eyebrows on-fleek, cat wings on-point, deep brown smoky eyes, and blood-red lips. To top off your look, you put on a thin, black choker. You smile at yourself. You did a good job making yourself look hot. You know it’s not just your ego talking because when you arrive at the ticket booth, Jimin compliments your look.

“Yo, Y/N, I never knew you could look this pretty,” Jimin grins at you.

"You also look good today,“ you return, taking note of how well his striped buttondown fits his frame. “I didn’t know today is leg day,” you add, admiring how his ripped jeans accentuate his legs you never knew were this muscular.

Jimin smiles, “Say it for yourself, Y/N. You look a solid twelve.” He rocks on the balls of his feet back and forth. “I guess the management did a good job letting us wear our casual clothes. You don’t know how bad I wanted to take off our horrendous uniform whenever we work.”

“That’s…highly inappropriate but I guess you do you,” you point finger guns at him. Jimin chuckles and waves goodbye to you, heading for the Fairy Tale booth. You seat yourself in your work station. Today’s a good start. You hope your luck continues until break time.

Lunch passes by and so far everything’s a breeze. You haven’t seen Taehyung today, probably caught up with the kids who frequent his booth in large batches as Halloween approaches close. Nevertheless, it’s good news. Your surprise will totally knock him off his feet.

The clock chimes two. Seokjin comes over and takes over the ticket booth as you take your break. It’s show time.

Just like your plan, you head for the Fairy Tale booth in quick strides. Lisa manages the entrance to their booth today and she lets you in without any ado, already used to you and Taehyung crossing to and fro your respective booths. Greeting Val, the Elfen soldier of the first stop and Yeji, the mermaid from the second stop, you head for the “Authorized Personnel Only” door and push it open. It leads to a darkly-lit hallway with a heavily carpeted flooring. You follow Lisa’s tips, taking a right turn and a left. True to her word, the connecting hallway ends with the thick red curtains. And there in the corner, is your dream man facing the curtains and waiting for his signal. You don’t hear any clamor of people nearing the Princess’ Castle, even the faintest of chatter inaudible. You thank the universe for this luck. You made it in time.

The seconds seem to slow down into minutes as you stepped closer to Taehyung. Your heart pounds loud and fast against your ears. This is it. You’ll finally make Taehyung realize you have your heart laid out for him. And if you’re lucky, he will also give his to you today.

With a mere foot left between you two, you reach out for him.

“Hey, Taehyung–”

“What the fuck–”

Everything happens too fast. Instead of Taehyung’s surprised face, a hard punch straight to your nose is what greets you. Intense pain spreads over your senses and you reel over, feeling your entire face on fire.

"Oh my fucking, God, I’m sorry! Oh my God, Y/N, I didn’t see you–are you alright?!“ Taehyung catches your arms as you stagger backwards, pulling you to your feet to prevent you from falling.

You nod and waved dismiss-ally to his panicked state.

Just right then, you feel something wet trickle down your lips.

"Oh my God, Y/N, you’re bleeding!” Taehyung screams and he immediately leads you to a chair propped on the corner. He frantically pulls out tissues on the table nearby and dabs the wetness that seeps on your skin. “Shit, what are you even doing here?! I thought you were a ghost, I’m so sorry I punched you!”

You’re too dazed to register everything that has happened and your lack of response causes Taehyung to panic more.

"Fuck, Y/N, I’m so, so, sorry! Oh my God, this is all my fault. Just sit right there, I’ll call for help!“ Taehyung rushes to the end of the hallway and you hear him scream for Jimin. Pounding footsteps follow and then it’s not just Taehyung fussing over you, but also Jimin.

"Do you think it’s broken?” Taehyung asks Jimin, voice trembling.

"I don’t think so. She’s not bleeding that much. Taehyung, relax, I already called for first aid–”

"How can I relax when Y/N’s in pain?! Which I inflicted on her! You know what, let’s call the ambulance!–”

This is not what you planned for. This is not how you imagined you will spend your last shift at the carnival with Taehyung.

Wetness trickles down your cheeks and before Taehyung can rush over and wipe your tears away, the Carnival’s first aid team has already barged in and crowded over you.

You were led to the small clinic of the carnival where you were given a tissue to stick in your nose. The physician told you your nose was luckily not broken and your body has just undergone shock. Once the bleeding has stopped, you’re good to go. Seokjin also called you he already informed your boss about what happened, telling you he’ll take over your shift and you’re now free to go home. The next few minutes pass in silence and you sink further onto the foldable bed. However, the universe decides it’s not yet done fucking up your day when the door opens with a loud bang and there stands Taehyung, huffing and drenched in sweat.

"I’m sorry I only got here now. Boss scolded me for what I did to you,“ Taehyung sighs deeply as he sits on the chair next to you, leaning his elbows on your bed. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. All of this wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t overreact.”

"I-it’s okay, Tae. You didn’t know I was there.“

"What are you even doing at our booth? Much more creeping in the dark?”

You bit your lip and look away. “It’s my break, it’s just,” you sigh, “I thought of surprising you today and well, it didn’t go as well as I planned it.”

"Plan? For what? Is there something we’re supposed to celebrate today?“

You turn back to Taehyung and meet his eyes. His eyes are focused on your face, waiting for your answer.

Well, maybe not all Romcom cliches work just like how they appear to be in movies. Maybe not all romantic gestures need to be grand in order to convey the sincerity of one’s feelings. Maybe it could be as simple like this– two people staring at each other in a clinic, uncaring of the world happening beyond your little bubble.

And as you stare at Taehyung’s face and see the reflection of yourself through his eyes, confused and tired, you decide it’s time for you to finally say it. No more orchestrated pretenses. No more intricate plans.

"Today is our last day in our work and I wanted to surprise you by finally being true to my feelings. I no longer look at you as a friend, Taehyung. I’m in love with you.”

Taehyung doesn’t reply. He just stares at you. You slowly feel the air getting squeezed out of your lungs, and it’s not just because of your stuffed nostril. Another beat of silence passes and then Taehyung’s face falls as he gapes at you, confused, shocked, and for a moment you see disappointment flash across his face. “W-what? Y/N, when did you-I, I don’t know what to say, I-why now?”

You bite your lip, feeling the tears well in your eyes. “Why not now, Taehyung?”

"Because–” Taehyung sighs and he purses his lips, dragging a hand over his face. “Y/N, you’re my friend, but I–”

"You know what, Taehyung, I get it,“ you turn your back on him, tasting blood on your lips from biting too hard to keep the tears at bay. You won’t cry because of him and in front of him at the same time. He doesn’t get to see you this weak. “You can leave me now.”

"But, Y/N, I–”

"Does punching me in the face not enough for you?! Just leave!“

You hear Taehyung sigh. The mattress of the bed puffs up again as the weight leaves. A faint “I’m sorry” resounds in the stifling silence. When the door closes with a soft click, the tears finally fall.

You stifle your broken sobs on your pillow.

***

You’re back in your old cycle: Eat, sleep, study, and lie low at the background. You steered clear from Taehyung in your classes, seating far away from your usual seat. You neither stopped by his locker in the mornings, nor waited for him in front of your own locker for lunch. You even went as far as avoiding your common friends, the thought of people asking about what happened between you and Taehyung makes you reel back to the embarrassment and disappointment of that day.

As much as you wanted to hate Taehyung, you find it hard to admit that every single thing that has gone wrong points back to you. You assuming anything more than what you already have with him, you doing outrageously unnecessary things for him, you bending yourself backwards in your desperation for him – it has always been yourself.

You tried to stay as identical to the background as you can be, away from Taehyung and anything that is associated with him. Because as much as you feel like an empty vessel for every single day, you cannot find it in yourself to erase Taehyung from your mind. Even when his last words with you kept on re-opening the wounds you’ve been trying hard to stitch back together. And, you can’t have that. You can’t run back to him and let him kick you back to the curb. It’s time for you to learn your lesson.

But no matter how successful you were the past days in running from Taehyung, you know you cannot avoid him forever. Especially when Enchanted Carnival has required the part-timers to attend their annual Halloween Party tomorrow, arranged by their permanent staff. After all, it’s the day you’ll terminate your contract and receive your last salary for your job.

You have never sorely regretted your past decisions like this before. You’re love-fool state of mind back then has induced you to buy an expensive costume. A fancy dress that has a carnation pink rayon bodice and full skirt, layered with delicate purple cotton voilewhich looks like soft rose petals that perfectly cinch the waist. It has long, glittered see-through sleeves that ruffle at the end of your arm, and it is adorned with golden intricate curvilinear details that go around the bust area and matches the golden flower belt on the waist. It even came with a faux golden crown with a short pink veil attached to the back. Yes, you fucking bought a princess bride costume just to match with Taehyung’s usual work attire because of course, Taehyung will come looking like a Disney prince. And now that everything you planned has gone downhill, the excitement is over and the only thing you feel is bitterness and a desperate wish to get things done and over with.

You reached the carnival at seven and by that time, the party is in full swing. Enchanted Carnival looks like a cirque-esque other-world. Small Jack o’ Lanterns replaced the usual light bulbs to light the carnival in an alluring tangerine glow. Signboards of “Happy Halloweens” range from small cutouts that hung from the poles, to gigantic illustrations pasted right on the walls of the some stalls. Pumpkin and ghost-shaped candies were sold at almost every corner and the people that pass by, carnival staff or not, embody the fantasy and surrealism of the carnival. You’ve seen pirates, sirens, faeries, and even witty realistic horror such as Jung Hoseok, the roller coaster attendant, wearing casual jeans and shirt with electric bills pasted on his chest and back.

“Hey, Y/N! I thought you weren’t coming.” You look to your left and see Lisa in a No Face costume. Seokjin follows close behind, dressed like Sokka from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

“Uh, yeah–I mean,” you clear your throat “how can I not come when I get to be paid at the end of the night?”

“Yeah, that’s the spirit,” Seokjin chuckles. “The salary is my only motivation when I lost a bet to Yeji and agreed to dress like…this.”

“Hey, Sokka’s not bad!” Lisa frowns. “Avatar: The Last Airbender is the best show ever and Sokka’s like a perfect ten.”

“Yeah, but it would have been better if you know,” Seokjin huffs, “I get to be Toph. So I can finally un-see Hoseok’s stupid’s antics, especially his dumb electric-bill costume tonight. It doesn’t get to be low-cost, witty, and funny all at the same time. It’s unfair.”

You laugh, feeling your jaw hurt a little from smiling so wide. It’s been a while since you smiled, with the past days spent crying and moping around in your room. You’re grateful for Lisa and Seokjin who tried to cheer you up throughout the night, distracting you from thoughts that revolve around Taehyung by pulling you into ride after ride, playing games in stall after stall, and stuffing your mouths with delicious treats.

You were having the best night of your life, until you find your group stopping in front of a booth – The 13th House.

You turn to Lisa. “Hey, you didn’t tell me a horror booth is included in our itinerary.”

“Because I don’t need to,” Lisa grins. “Horror booths are a classic! How can Halloween be Halloween without some spook?”

“Right, and relax Y/N,” Seokjin says, “It’s not like we’re gonna leave you. And trust me, it’s not that scary. I already visited this booth to prank Jungkook. Too bad I was unsuccessful that time with Jungkook already immune to jumpscares from manning the effects and all.”

Except it is scary. The 13th House is the only booth you didn’t dare to visit during your entire work period. Your remember how your legs turned to jelly the first time you saw its front: An old gothic mansion with dilapidated walls and broken windows, its wooden main door covered in bloody handprints, and its gray, dry lawn surrounded by amputated body parts. You know all of it were just manmade but it doesn’t lessen the creeps you get when every detail and props are fashioned too realistically.

Nevertheless, you went along with Lisa and Seokjin and get your ticket-bracelets scanned by the booth marshal. Even if you feel like running away the moment you hear the loud, sinister creak of the main door when you start for the first stop, you stood your ground and wear your big girl game face on. It’s your last night in the carnival, might as well do everything you were never able to do before.

The first half of your trip in the booth were somehow a smooth ride. Although you almost jumped at the scream of the bloody Victorian bride from the first stop, almost backed out on the second stop because of the swinging headless knight, and almost cried on the spot because of the wailing man with its guts ripped apart from the third stop, you’re still far from getting scared out of your wits.

That is, until you reach the middle stop.

The fourth stop required you to do an easy escape-room task with a ghost kid guiding you through a fake Ouija board session. You quickly finished the activity and the wooden walls shifted to reveal a small passageway with thick hanging cobwebs. Lisa leads the way and you find yourself gripping her hand and Seokjin’s tighter as you enter a dark hallway lit only by torches fastened to gray, blood-splattered walls.

And then, out of nowhere, foreign hands cover your eyes. You scream and thrash around but your suffering is only momentary when you find yourself back in the hallway with no looming figures behind your back. Okay, maybe it’s just part of the booth experience–Wait. Where’s Lisa and Seokjin?

“Lisa! Seokjin!” You call for your friends’s names. They were just with you earlier. You were holding their hands for Christ’s sake! “Where are you, guys?! This is NOT funny!” You bite your lip and wring your hands in anxiety. “Guys, I swear to God, this is not fun–”

The lights of the torches flicker. The background music starts to grow louder, and eerier as it now plays with Latin incantations. And then there’s a loud bang.

The lights were blown out. The blood-splattered designs on the walls turn neon. And, the rest of the hallway goes complete dark-out.

“Holy shit!” You run, straight ahead. Heart pounding loud on your ears, you don’t think anymore and just run. Surely, there will be some end to this hallway, right?

Except there’s none, because a forked path greets you just right when you thought the hallway is getting too long. The two paths stare at you, the neon designs on their walls starts to get disturbing with child-like drawings of disfigured people and morbid beasts.

You slump on the ground. This is a complete nightmare. You wish you didn’t go with Lisa and Seokjin. You wish you didn’t let your loneliness get to you and spent the whole week crying about your crush who doesn’t like you. Because now you’re trapped in this hellish booth and you’re gonna die alone and pathetic. You didn’t even get to experience at least the “moving on” happy ending alternative of Romcom films. You didn’t –

Just right then, there’s a flash of light from the end of the left path. A second later, a voice echoes loud. You didn’t understand a word from the echo. Hell, you’re not even sure if it’s from a human. But at least it seems to have a light that is nothing part of 13th House’s props. Before thinking twice, you’re already running toward the direction of the light. You run and run and never dared to stop. The light’s getting near, you’re gonna get help soon! You won’t have to die alone because you’re gonna get out of here and–

Light blinds you.

"Ahh!“

"What the fuck-! I’m sorry!”

You feel the light on your face dim down. And the moment you bring down your raised hands, you can’t seem to speak.

"YN?“

Taehyung stands in front of you, flashlight in hand, and looking handsome as always. But, it’s not his presence that makes your heart still. Enchanted Carnival’s purple polo shirt, generic black slacks, and the silly headband with blue rabbit ears atop his head–Taehyung’s wearing the carnival’s ticket booth uniform.

And Taehyung’s jaw is ajar seemingly for all the same reason. Pink princess gown and glittering princess crown–you were an open book to him now.

"You…you’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

All of a sudden, everything that has happened in the last weeks comes back to you and you feel your eyes stinging with tears as the dam of bitterness floods your chest. “I bet you tell everyone that,” you scoff, “since you’re such a disgusting flirt.”

Taehyung’s mouth hangs in shock, “Di-disgusting flirt? You’re the only one I told you that!”

You stand back to your feet and meet his eyes with a steely glare. “I find it hard to believe that, Kim. Especially your type of guys.”

Your eyes seem to do tricks to you when you see Taehyung wince at your tone, but that wasn’t for long because Taehyung now sounds defensive. "What are my type of guys?“

You scowled. "The type who leads on girls and cruelly rejects them after they’re done playing with them.”

"What rejection are you talking about? I did not reject you! How could you-“

"What else could your reaction mean when I told you I love you?!”

"I was trying to move on from you, okay!“ Taehyung screams. "And that day, you just–dropped the bomb like that. How do you expect me to react huh? Especially, when I fucking spent one year trying to make you realize I see you more than as a friend and you just ignore me as if my feelings don’t matter to you. And then, when I finally decide to move on from you, you act weird for a couple of weeks. And out of nowhere you’re telling me you love me. How can I even react properly? You didn’t even wait for me to process things,” Taehyung’s voice breaks, “You just up and go and shut me out!”

"W-what?“

"I liked you, Y/N. For so long. And you never turned my way–you wave off my advances as if they mean nothing to you, you keep on setting me up with other girls, and you run away from me whenever I so much glance at you. You don’t even let me see you properly when we’re at school. You hide from me and run away as if you’re gonna die just by being with me. And last week, you’re suddenly telling me you love me? So, how can I be a disgusting flirt when you’re the one who’s sending me mixed signals?!”

"Mixed signals?“ you frown. "For the past year I’ve been your friend Tae, I tried to love you in my own way. I stayed up late with you as you told me all your problems. I’ve been there with you in whatever shenanigans you thought of. I spent almost every break I fucking have with you talking about whatever we want. They are blatant signals, Taehyung! So I’m sorry if I have to hide or run away sometimes, because if you didn’t fucking know, we don’t belong in the same world.”

“What do you mean we don’t belong in the same world? Fucking hell, Y/N, you’re not an alien–”

“In your world, I am! In your world, you are the star, the life of the party. People who belong in your world live their fucking fantastic lives as the star of their own stories. They achieve their dreams, they get whatever they want, people look up at them for being so great. But, people like me? We spend our fucking lives looking into your world from the outside. Pathetic side characters of their own pathetic lives. People just pass us by, some even run over us. No one even remembers our fucking name. So, even if these don’t matter when I look at you, I can only love you from afar because people will look at us and all these shits will come back for me.”

“Jesus Christ,” Taehyung huffs, carding a hand through his hair in frustration. “There are no worlds separating you from me because people are just different! And these differences cannot dictate who should belong with who because guess what? We’re the only ones who can let other people in or out of their lives. So can you just stop for a second and see that there’s nothing that actually separates you from me? I thought you would already know this by now since we’ve been friends for so long.”

You feel tears blurring your eyes and you look away from him. “But still, that’s not enough to explain all the shits that’s happened this past week. Okay, we may be different and I tried to express my feelings in my own way. But I tried to change it up, Tae. I worked so hard to pattern my advances to every Romcom clichés and of course they all went wrong when it came to you.”

“W-wrong? Y/N, what Romcom cliches–”

“The cheesiest Romcom clichés!” You snap. “You know, the makeover montage, the Julia Roberts’ Assertive Approach, the Megan Fox Vixen Touch. You were telling me how oblivious I were to your advances but you never fucking noticed how I changed up my advances just for you. You ignored how I dressed up pretty-to-the-tip for you. Even after I came to you and blatantly asked you if you noticed something new. You don’t take the cue when I freaking hand over my feelings for you in a silver platter. Hell, you even punched me in the face when I tried to be sexy!”

“God, can you let it go? I already said I’m sorry!” Taehyung huffs and you look down on your feet. Taehyung sighs, “I was trying to move on from you during those weeks you’ve acted really, really weird. So obviously, I will be very confused. Secondly, Y/N,” Taehyung sighs, “Romcom clichés are called like that because they only happen and work the way they are portrayed to work, in Romcoms. Romcom is a film genre. Sure, they may reflect some aspects of reality, but Y/N, they are planned out, manipulated in a controlled environment. They’re not your life. Life doesn’t work that way.”

“I’m sorry, I just–” you bite your lip but it’s not enough to prevent a tear slip from your eyes. “This is my first time feeling like this and I don’t know what to do. I absolutely have no fucking idea what I should do next and I–I’m just so sorry for dragging these shits up and made our lives messier than it should be. I’m sorry for probably making you feel guilty about yourself for this past week I ignored you like the plague. I’m sorry for being so stupid, I just–I’m so sorry, Tae!” your voice breaks at the end and before you know it, your tears have already consumed you to the ground.

"Oh shit Y/N, don’t cry.” Taehyung panics as he kneels next to you. You shield your face from him with your hands, but Taehyung pries them away and cups your face in his large, warm hands. You feel the pads of his fingers wipe away your tears and when you look up at him, Taehyung’s face is too close to yours. Too close that you can practically see the deep, dark circles under his eyes despite the darkness. The thought that you caused him this made you tear up more.

Taehyung goes frantic. “Y/N, do-don’t cry. Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry. Y/N, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry–”

“C-can you just h-hug me?”

“O-okay,” Taehyung hesitantly loops his arms around your shaking frame. “Thi-this is fine with me.”

You close your eyes and lean on your friend’s chest. You don’t care if Taehyung’s shirt get wet with your tears. He’s partly at fault for making you cry. But still, you squeak out a muffled. “Thank you, Tae.”

Taehyung hums. “It’s okay.”

Amid this night’s horror and breakdown, silence, for the first time in a while, envelops you in comfort. Even with no words, Taehyung easily dries away the tears. He just pats your back and rubs soothing circles on your tensed muscles, leaning closer to you when you hug him tighter.

“I hate fighting with you, Tae.”

Taehyung turns his head closer to yours. “Are we already fighting?”

“W-well yeah,” you hiccup. “Somehow.”

“Okay…Next time we’ll understand each other better so we don’t need to have unnecessary fights like this, okay?”

“Okay,” you mutter. You sink deeper into Taehyung’s arms and he holds you tighter in his embrace.

Even if you can’t see his face, you know Taehyung’s smiling.

It doesn’t take long for your sobs to die down that you’re now slowly disentangling yourself from him.

“Are you okay now?”

“Y-yeah. Thank you.” You lean your back against the wall and Taehyung sits next to you. You look at him and he smiles at you. For a moment you stay like that, staring into his eyes, falling deep in the little world you’re sharing with him. And then, it hits you. Taehyung’s still here. Even after you blurt out every insecurity and self-doubt you have that others may find petty and invaluable, Taehyung’s still here. Even after he voiced out his disappointment of you and things you’ve done him wrong, Taehyung hasn’t walked out. He didn’t run away, he didn’t leave you. Taehyung stayed.

And so, you take the cue the universe is giving you and put all your cards on the table again. You cross your fingers as you ask the question that has plagued your mind ever since Taehyung confessed he has long liked you. "Tae, Ha-have you already moved on from me?”

Taehyung sighs and for a second, you don’t breathe. But, you don’t have to hold it for long because when Taehyung looks at you again, a soft smile is on his face. “Unfortunately, no. Because even after all the shits you put me through, you still occupy my heart–and mind.”

“S-so, can I kiss you?”

“I’m the one who’s supposed to say that, but, ye-yeah you can kiss me. Anything for you, Y/N.”

You close your eyes and lean forward. Your lips meet his in a soft peck and everything suddenly stops. You don’t feel the perspiration on your back from all the running in the booth. You don’t think about the dust and dirt soiling your dress. All you could feel was Taehyung’s soft lips. All you could taste is the sweetness from the crumbs of cherry tart left on his lips. All that fills you nose is Taehyung’s smell that’s so naturally his and his ocean mist spray you gifted him on his birthday. All you could hear is the loud pounding of your heart, and even with your eyes closed, Taehyung’s face is all you could see. And, you can’t think of anything but Taehyung–him and him alone.

The world suddenly moves again when Taehyung leans deeper and interlocks his lips with yours. You immediately let your heart take over. You mold yourself closer to him, kissing him with every ardor you’ve kept locked in yourself for so long. You fist his shirt and Taehyung caresses your cheeks and puts his hand on the back of your neck as he kisses you deeper. You loop your arms around his neck and return the vigor of his kiss. Teeth bumping, fingers reaching and clutching onto anything, sloppy interlocking of lips–you don’t care. Even if you have your first kiss in a gloomy, creepy horror booth, nothing else mattered but the boy in front of you. Taehyung’s here and he’s finally in your arms. You don’t have to long for him from afar anymore because now he’s here with you and he’s not leaving you. He’s finally yours.

The same thought probably runs into Taehyung as you feel him grin into your lips before kissing you again. And even when the creepy background music of the booth starts again, you can only focus on the gentle way Taehyung’s thumbs coursed over your cheeks while tenderly pecks your lips as your kiss comes into a close.

As you draw back a little to look at your friend, your crush, and now your lover, Kim Taehyung, in the hideous purple uniform you used to wear in the ticket booth with silly rabbit ears perched atop his hazel locks, you can’t help but smile. Taehyung may be the center of the world while you watch him from the side, but at the end of the day, he’s right. You’re just two people who are happy being with each other. There’s no boundaries, no walls separating him from you and you from him. You just have to see him for what he is and take the leap. You don’t need to re-enact Romcom clichés just to bring him towards you because he’s never been away from you from the start.

Taehyung leans his forehead on yours and smiles. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve waited for so long for this.”

“Me too,” you grin, “And, I love you too, Tae.”

Taehyung chuckles and presses another peck on your lips.

Just right then, you can feel a vibrant white light on your face.

“Yo, lovebirds, are you finally together?”

You turn to the direction of the voice and it’s Jimin. Behind him are Lisa and Seokjin, walking from the right pathway while making kissy faces at you.

It all clicks in: Lisa and Seokjin hanging out with you, leading you to the 13th House, and disappearing like smoke the moment you reached the longest hallway of the booth. It’s to get you alone with Taehyung and finally talk everything out before you leave your part-time jobs.

You frown at your friends. But, before you can voice out how can they just up and leave you like that, Taehyung beats you to it.

“Jimin, you bastard! You pushed me towards the backstage passageway, shoved a flashlight into my hand, and just left me in the middle of this fucking scary booth. Is this how you treat your best bud?!”

Jimin laughs. “But at least you got the girl!”

“Yeah,” Lisa says. “Watching you two stupidly tiptoe around each other for so long started to make me sick.”

“And we know you two can’t sort out your stupidity alone, so we decided to give you a little push.” Seokjin looks at Taehyung. “Quite literally in your case.”

Taehyung scowls and opens his mouth but Jimin cuts him to it.

“Thank me later, lover boy. It’s time we get out of this booth. Jungkook’s gonna piss me out for practically renting the 4th stop without paying.” Jimin heads to the right path where he came from. “So let’s take our exit now so you two can finally ride together into the sunset.” He turns to you and Taehyung and smirks, “Well, literally and figuratively.”

Taehung attempts to hit him but Jimin scampers away and hollers, “You’re welcome, bro. And you too, Y/N!” Lisa and Seokjin laugh as they follow Jimin, leaving you and Taehyung walking at the back.

Taehyung turns to you. “So…are you free tomorrow? I realized I haven’t taken you to a date yet. Like, a date date”

“Yeah, I’m free. But, where will we go?”

Taehyung rubs his nape. “Well, I don’t know yet…I’m sorry I asked you when I don’t have any plans yet, I just want to be with you tomorrow–”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “We can meet at the carnival, then.”

“The carnival?”

“Yeah. Not as the prince and the ticketbooth attendant or vice versa. Just Taehyung and Y/N.”

Taehyung smiles. “I would like that. Pick you up at your house on five?”

“That’s alright with me,” you lean into his arm and look up at him, “boyfriend.”

Taehyung blushes and you giggle. You let him hold your hand as you make your way out of the horror booth to spend the rest of Enchanted Carnival’s Halloween Party with a salary waiting for you, happy and giddy, and most importantly, in love.

In every success story, there is a ninety percent probability you will hear “Fake it ‘til you make it.” Sometimes, it worked out for you, but most of the time, it didn’t. Like how you tried to use this tactic to get your crush to like you, your plans don’t usually go the way you expect them. But it’s okay, because life doesn’t work that way. It took you stressful planning days, frustrating reactions, and tearful nights for you to realize that life is not always a stage where people can just “fake” everything ‘til the script is fulfilled. Roles can be changed and mistakes can happen. What’s important is: You may have not “fake it ‘til you make it,” but at least you worked for it ‘til you made it.

A/N pt. 2 | I wrote this fic after having a massive eureka moment and I haven’t edited this out yet because it’s 2 A.M. and we die like brave men here. Anyway, planning this story was really a challenge! This is the first time I tried this AU so I researched stuff and had to like, fix and re-fix some of my plot points as I write through. Second, I wanted to incorporate the adorable prompt in a completely unexpected way so I hope it did what I intended for it to do. Also, I enjoyed making up the names of the Romcom clichés OC used. They are literal Romcom clichés but I can’t find what they’re officially called (aside from Makeover Montage) so I just made the rest up AHHAHAH. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it!

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tbr-agency · 3 years

Text

why not?

synopsis ∣ It was a last minute plan and Nara knew Jackson, Bambam and Yugyeom would immediately agreed to it - not knowing the exact detail where they are going.

timeline ∣ December 2020

characters ∣ The Bangs, Bang Nara (The Bloody Roses), Jackson Wang, Bambam, Kim Yugyeom (Got7)

a/n ∣ fluff and soft, a little crack, it’s normal that Bambam is nervous but Jackson and Yugyeom are extremely nervous for no reason. Italic means they are speaking in English!

“What!? Please tell me you’re joking, Nara!”

“I’m serious, Bam.”

“Turn back! Turn back!”

“We’re almost there, oppa! There’s no point turning back!”

“Yah! We didn’t bring anything with us!”

A deep scream comes from Jackson and a few whines coming from Bambam and Yugyeom as Nara could only laugh to see them panicking.

Nara had invited them for dinner and she knew Jackson, Bambam and Yugyeom were the only ones who would agree immediately - no matter how busy they were, they would make time for the maknae of The Bloody Roses.

But what the 3 members of Got7 didn’t know is that they are going to a family dinner - personally made by the Bangs.

“Yah! I could have worn a suit or something! Look at what we are wearing now!” Jackson complained as he pointed at himself - wearing a more comfortable outfit rather than a formal one.

“Hyung is right! We look like we just woke up from a nap or something!” Yugyeom added with a slight frown as he looked at Nara who was driving.

“Why are the two of you panicking?! I should be the one panicking since I’m meeting my girlfriend’s family!” Bambam yelled in nervousness but somehow, there is a little excitement in him.

Nara chuckled to see them basically panicking at the back. She wasn’t nervous or anything since her family invited the Got7 members, so she was fine and Nara knew her family is fond of the Got7 members since they had attended her sister’s wedding so they are considered family.

Nara glanced towards Bambam through the rear-view mirror to see him looking a little quieter than usual but he was still, himself - but more calmer.

Coincidentally, Bambam caught her gaze as he proceeded to give her a cheeky wink - making Nara roll her eyes.

Maybe he wasn’t nervous or panicky at all.

“Dude! Your house is huge!”

“It’s not my house, Jackson. It’s my Mum and Dad’s!”

The 3 of them looked towards the extravagant home. To be honest, the 3 members weren’t too surprised knowing all of the girls’ family background.

“C’mon! Don’t be a stranger! You guys met them during my sister’s wedding!”

“But they might forget us!” Yugyeom pouted and Nara tilted her head, gesturing to come in as they passed through the gates.

“No, they don’t, Gyeom. They all love the 7 of you, trust me.” Nara added, after seeing Jackson clinging onto Yugyeom as they walk ahead, following the path.

Bambam weirdly grew quiet, causing Nara slightly looking towards him.

“Bam, you good?” Nara questioned, reaching out for him as she holds onto his hands, gripping slightly.

“Can I be honest? I’m nervous,” Bambam whispered and Nara's expression softened into a smile.

“Why? You met them before,”

“Yeah.. but this is a family dinner, it’s considering a formal kind of meeting,” Bambam answered while pouting slightly - making Nara stop at her tracks, pulling Bambam as he faced her.

Nara looked towards where Jackson and Yugyeom was as she decided to have a word with Bambam privately fast before the 2 members saw them.

“Remember that night where you said you wanted to make our relationship public?” Nara questioned and Bambam nodded as his answer.

“Well, this is the first step - I’m just saying. This dinner is for them to get to know you better without being too formal. My parents aren’t a fan of too formal dinners. It’s boring but they have too since their job is basically full of meetings. But this… they have a choice so they wanted to make it casual and comfortable, for you, me and for everyone. Also, the others were invited because my sister misses them so..” Nara explained with a slight shrug in the end as she mentions her sister.

Bambam sighed in relief while engulfing Nara for a hug.

“I love you so much, Nara.” Bambam whispered, earning a giggle from Nara.

“Feeling better?”

“Well—

“Hey lovebirds!” A familiar voice called, making Nara and Bambam to turn towards where the voice came from to see Nara’s sister leaning against the door while wiggling her eyebrows.

Bambam immediately pulled away from Nara while looking down shyly while Nara was looking at her sister’s way with a disgusted look.

“I’ve been standing here for 5 minutes and none of you noticed me! Jackson and Yugyeom have entered in now so it’s just the two of you!”

“Okay pervert! We’re coming!” Nara yelled, causing Bambam to laugh out loud seeing the two sisters bickering with one another.

Bambam should have trusted Nara’s words because she was really right. As soon he stepped into the big house, he could already see Jackson and Yugyeom basically standing beside Nara’s mother - talking and laughing and as soon as Nara’s mother turned her head towards Bambam’s way, her expression turns into a smiley one as she made her way towards Bambam, engulfing him into a tight, crushing hug that Nara’s father had to stop his over-excited wife.

They were so welcoming and it scares Bambam that they are a replica of Bambam’s family.

Nara’s family was an example of any typical big family and what Bambam liked about hers is that as soon as they sat on the dining table area, her parents - especially Nara’s father - were quick to ask everyone to dig in.

And unlike other families, Nara’s parents' first question towards the 3 Got7 members was what they always do during their free time and that’s when a whole new conversation that related to pets, games and music are being brought to the table

Nara just watches the members talk their heart out mainly to Jackson regarding his Team Wang plans, Yugyeom talking about his love for Dalkyum and him getting teased especially by Nara’s mother about Hyunji and Bambam talking about his family.

Jackson and Yugyeom then proceed to lowkey diss about Bambam at the same time praising Bambam regarding his personality and attitude.

Bambam knew the spotlight was about him but Nara’s parents were nice enough to make more conversations with Jackson and Yugyeom - in an attempt to make them comfortable too.

In conclusion, the 3 Got7 members enjoyed their dinner.

“My dear, what do you see in Nara that you somehow… want to be with her?” Nara’s mother questioned Bambam as he was helping her to wash the dishes.

With just a simple question, Bambam’s heart began to beat faster in nervousness, hence his facial expression shows.

“You don’t have to be nervous… I’m just curious…” Nara’s mother added with a slight smile then hearing Bambam’s awkward chuckle.

“Nara is a gem, really. I have never met a girl like her before. She is real, genuine and beautiful and I see a future with her. We match so well,” Bambam confessed while focusing on the dishes.

Nara’s mother slightly turned towards Bambam - seeing him looking so serious. She knew the young man was serious, he wasn’t that funny and loud guy previously at the dinner table.

She could tell he was really genuine about being with her precious daughter.

“Does she make you happy?”

Bambam turned towards the middle-aged woman, seeing her turning towards Bambam with a small smile.

“Yes.” Bambam answered with a nod.

“Then there’s no reason to be nervous around us, Bambam. We already accepted you in the family, try to be more comfortable around us, alright? I can tell Nara really loves you. That girl always mentions you and Got7 whenever we bring the topic of Thai-food and music,” Nara’s mother slightly chuckles, earning a chuckle from Bambam too.

He was really happy, too happy.

“Yah! Joohee! Why are you letting Bambam wash the plates!?!” A deep voice came from behind, causing both Bambam and Nara’s mother to jump slightly - then realizing Nara’s father was standing behind them with a frown.

‘Well, the nice gentleman offered so I just let him! No one in this household wants to help me!” Nara’s mother grumbled as Nara’s father turned towards Bambam with an apologetic smile.

“Well, I’m sorry, my love but I have to steal Bambam away! We are short with one player! C’mon!” Nara’s father pulled Bambam away, linking the older man’s arm on Bambam’s shoulder as they walked out of the kitchen.

Nara’s father was one of a kind and at first, Bambam was truthfully afraid of her father because when Bambam was walking around the house with Boyoung - Nara’s sister who kindly wanted to walk the 3 guest around the house, Bambam saw this big glass shelve that was filled with trophies and certificate of Nara’s parents.

Both of Nara’s parents had a title which was a higher rank and it was normal for the 3 members to be nervous but with Boyoung’s words of calmness, the3 members were relaxed since she said that her parents are the chill type.

The family weren’t the type to talk about work-related stuff when they are having dinner - as what they have experienced when they were eating with them.

Bambam had somehow gained a friendship with Nara’s father - and surprisingly but thankfully, both of them had a love for cats and Thai food. It wasn’t a surprise since his daughter loves thai-food too.

Bambam could see that Nara’s family were really caring and genuine as they prepared a bunch of dishes for the whole 7 members of Got7 which includes hand-made kimchi, whole lots of turkey especially for Mark, Jackson and Bambam, seaweed soup and a whole lot more.

Jackson, Bambam and Yugyeom had to carry 2 bags each and Nara too carried 2 bags since her mother prepared for the girls too.

“That was fun! Thank you for inviting us, Mr and Mrs Bang! The hyungs will surely be happy with your gifts!” Yugyeom thanked Nara’s parents in excitement while hugging them - making Nara’s mother giggle.

Jackson on the other hand gave a tight hug to Nara’s parents while wishing them to live longly and have a healthy life since they were really precious.

“We will wait for the two of you in the car!” Jackson informed Nara and Bambam before dragging Yugyeom away - not letting Yugyeom to even say his opinions as the Hong Kong man dragged the maknae away.

“Come and visit us when you are free, Bambam,”

“Dear, he’s busy with work, right Bambam? Starting from this week, he’s going to be busy because they just have their comeback,” Nara’s father answered while holding onto his wife closely.

Bambam nodded while shaking hands with Nara’s father and unexpectedly, her father engulfed Bambam into a tight hug.

Nara’s mother said a few words to Bambam which was asking Bambam to take care of himself and to eat more for health purposes then hugging Bambam.

“Okay! Move along, you two! Drive safely!” Nara’s father shooed the two young ones, causing Bambam to laugh - seeing Nara’s expression.

“Geez… Relax.. We are leaving,” Nara muttered under her breath, giving her two parents a big tight hug and kisses on their cheeks before walking away, together with Bambam.

“Nara-ah! Call us when you reach home!” Nara’s father yelled, causing Nara and Bambam to look back - with Nara giving her father a thumbs up and a wave to them.

“That was fun!” Bambam commented, sounding happy and Nara tilted her head towards him.

“I told you it’s going to be fun! You should see the whole Bloody Roses girls in the house - it’s going to be more chaotic!”

“And the hyungs too! It’s gonna be fun and loud!” Bambam added his girlfriend's words, then watched Nara laughing as she continued to tell him different stories about the other girls whenever they were visiting Nara’s family.

Nara’s mother's words were stuck onto Bambam’s head and that’s when Bambam’s love for Nara grew bigger and he would forever remember this fun, enjoyable and soft night.

masterlist : Got7 Bodyguard Au

#got7 bodyguard #got7 bodyguard au #got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #got7 bambam #got7 bambam scenarios #got7 bambam imagines

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l0chn3ss · 4 years

Text

do you remember that day, you were so beautiful

Written for @se-rarepair-day September 2020 Prompt: Roadtrip

Maka x Black Star; MaStar: Before coming to terms with their feelings, and before embarking on the road trip that took them all across Nevada, Maka and Black Star take their friendship to high school prom. AO3 | FFNET

Companion Fic to dust the cracks in my heart with stardust, make me anew; Reverb 2017

---------------

During their junior year of high school, Maka and Black Star were caught up in the hype surrounding prom, of course. There were rules to these sorts of things.

Choose your crush to be your partner, go outfit scouting three months ahead of time, plan your king and queen campaign, prepare matching corsages, group-rent a party bus, get the pre-prom party ready, and above all, make sure you ask them out in the most public and romantic way possible.

Maka and Black Star followed all of these rules, just not with each other. Instead, they convened to share ideas and made sure they were doing steps in order. Maka brainstormed obnoxious ideas on ‘how to ask a girl to prom’ on YouTube for him while Black Star fed hints and nudged her prospective partner to do exactly what she wanted in return. They went to Macy’s to get their outfits at the same time; Maka picked out her top five dresses to show her friends while Star had everything except for his vest and tie. Finally, they carpooled to the pre-prom party in Sid’s mini van with flowers in their lap and nerves scattered throughout. Not once did it occur to them that they should’ve just gone with each other until they were both abandoned on the dance floor, finding that the people they’d gone with were boring beyond boring.

Senior year was different. About seven weeks before the night in question, Maka was at Black Star’s desk while he was lounging on his bed. It was a school night, but Maka didn’t want to be home. Instead, she went to her second home and kicked Black Star off his chair and onto his sheets. He went without much protest, already used to the routine. The only thing was that his seat was warm— his bed was not.

She snorted at him, saying that it was more comfortable on his bed anyways. Star, in turn, grumbled about how his bed made him tired and how the living room sofa was occupied. They settled into their new places for the rest of the evening, each with their own tasks in mind.

It was only forty minutes later that Maka checked her Google Calendar and saw the marked event approaching. She turned to Black Star suddenly, who was distracted on his phone reading fanfiction, and said easily, “Wanna go to prom together?”

“When’sza again?”

“The Saturday after we have dinner with your dad’s cousin.”

“Oh, yeah.” He finished his paragraph before finally giving Maka his attention. “Sure. What color do you want?”

Maka balanced herself on just two legs of Star’s chair. She leaned back and looked to his ceiling, thinking. “Purple looks terrible on you. And I really don’t want to repeat colors from last year.”

He nodded. “No yellow or… whatever color you chose again.”

“It was feldgrau.”

“Yeah, that… Gods, just call it green like normal people.”

Maka planted the chair back on all fours again. “It wasn’t green, and it wasn’t gray. It was feldgrau.”

“Whatever, Maks.”

“Good point, though. Green is still on the board.”

“Nope! That’s been your color since kid-you rolled in that freshly cut grass. You got it all in your hair and clothes.” Black Star wasn’t budging. “I’d be at a disadvantage.”

Maka shot him a look, but chose to not pursue his anecdote. “Well, you just dyed your hair. So we definitely can’t do red. Orange would be worse. That pretty much leaves blue, which matches you more than me, too.”

“Come on, blue is best!”

“Absolutely not. I’d rather have green.”

“Blue.”

“Green!”

They stared down at each other until a giggle escaped one of them, then the other in quick succession. They solved their color issue the same way as they did as kids— with a sigh and a laugh.

“Teal it is then.”

“The one that’s more blue right?”

“Absolutely not, Star.”

---------------

The day came quickly, especially since they weren’t at all focused on preparing for it. After getting past the hurdle of settling on the right shade of teal, the rest of their tasks came easily. Maka still had her contacts from arranging flowers for her community service events, and Star had recently gotten a new Jeep from a second-hand seller about two cities over. Pictures would be taken in Aunt Mira’s backyard, and it would’ve been overkill if they won homecoming and prom king and queen in the same school year. There was no need to run again.

As for the tie, vest, and dress set, the color that they chose was perfectly equal. It was neither too green or too blue; the both of them made sure of that. They met exactly in the middle after a couple of hours in a Joann’s Fabrics, and they took a cut of the shade to go buy their outfits separately.

Black Star’s extended aunt adjusted his tie for him on prom night. She had her camera wrapped around her cousin Sid’s neck to hold for safekeeping since it would’ve gotten lost on a table or some random counter otherwise.

Aunt Mira wasted no opportunities to scold her nephew. “You’re late, boy.”

Star had to counter, “Maka is, too.”

“Aye, but she’s also been here for two hours to get ready upstairs,” Aunt Mira said, pulling down Star’s vest and straightening out the front. “You, on the other hand, had instructions to arrive at eighteen hundred hours.”

That was 6 o’clock for military talk.

“Yes, ma’am,” Black Star said, still pouting slightly.

After giving him a final pat, Aunt Mira had Star pose in various areas around the house, snapping a photo or nine at each place. She claimed that she didn’t want to take too many without Maka there, especially since Maka was still learning about the exposure and shutter speed settings on a manual camera. It was just easier to show rather than tell.

Sid helped enough by clearing parts of the room where Aunt Mira’s crafting projects were dispersed in strange places. He also went into the backyard for a moment to check for the lighting and weather for their couples shots. He took the chance to call Spirit and assured him at length since Maka hadn’t allowed him to stay past her initial drop-off. All was prepared.

Just five minutes later, Maka finally emerged, stepping onto the landing and then following the railing down the stairs. Catching on Aunt Mira’s chandelier lights, her gold-teal eyeshadow shone and her cheeks glowed a pretty pink. She wore a sleeveless sweetheart bodice that hugged her torso closely, cutting off at her midriff. It was then that he understood what she meant by a two-piece dress. Her skirt started not far from where the top was; it went from high to low— thigh short in the front and floor length long in the back— and framed her legs beautifully. Golden embellishments swirled throughout, matching her make up choice well, mesmerizing.

He was caught in between moments where nothing made sense, and yet everything felt right. The room fell away with her every step, shattering the background behind her as she got closer to him. It was like seeing her for the first time— a new girl with a familiar name. Maka became the only one left in his eyes.

Still at the top of the stairs, Maka went slowly, adjusting her left earring while making sure her feet went one after the other. She wasn’t poised or ready— fuck, she wasn’t trying to be beautiful or heartstopping. She just was.

However, Maka made a small grunt while she held onto the railings. Black Star remembered how heavily she complained about going down the stairs in heels last year, so he went up to meet her half way and extended a hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Black Star teased once she reached him.

“Stop it,” she said, lightly smacking his arm before taking his offering to brace herself.

As they walked down together, Star couldn’t take his eyes off her. It was only when they reached the bottom that Maka let go and broke the spell. He felt a part of him leaving as she did, even though she wasn’t going anywhere far. She was only going to the refrigerator to get their corsage and boutonnière.

Left alone with his dad and aunt, he finally realized that they were being watched with knowing looks. “What?” He glared at them heavily, hoping to hide whatever they saw on his face.

Sid seemed to cover a laugh with a cough while Aunt Mira fiddled with her camera. She muttered, “Got some good shots from that,” which caused her nephew to ‘tch’ loudly. He turned away from them, faced towards the wall to hide how pink his face had turned from her comment.

When Maka returned, she set the flowers down on the coffee table and looked to Sid first. “What do you think?” She twirled on her heel and the train of her skirt spread far.

Sid nodded. “Your papa would be pleased.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” Maka snickered.

“He wouldn’t at all,” Sid agreed.

“You look lovely, Maka.” Aunt Mira made sure to give the validation that any girl would’ve wanted. “I’m surprised you got into it on your own.”

“Well, I had trouble with getting the back zipper, which is why I’m so late.”

Aunt Mira hummed. “Boy, go check to make sure it’s on properly.”

Before Black Star could begin to protest, Maka had already turned around and brushed her curled hair to the front. She said, “I think I got it up all the way, but it’s hard to reach.”

He approached her carefully, swallowing a lump in his throat and blinking away his disbelief. He looked just for a moment to see that the zipper was about an inch and a half from closing, and he finished it for her quickly, blushing the entire way there.

“There,” Star said, coughing into his hand like Sid would. “You almost got it.”

Maka looked over her shoulder, surprising him once again. Her disarming smile and appreciation only made her look more foreign— but not in a bad way. He may have followed her anywhere then.

“Thanks.”

“‘Is whatever.”

She laughed openly at his awkwardness while he got the corsage. It was made of three white roses and baby’s breath, all tied together with a teal ribbon in the center. He heard Maka reminding him of something familiar.

“Corsage on the pulse; boutonnière over the heart.”

It was his turn to laugh. “I know, I know.”

Maka was embarrassed that he heard her at all. “I’m just saying!”

He pulled the elastic over her left wrist and gave it a snap. “Yeah, sure.”

“Careful, Star. I’ll prick you with the pin.”

“This jacket is hell— I mean, hecka thick.” Star briefly glanced over to his aunt to check if she caught him cursing. If she did, she didn’t show it. “You can’t pass the pin through.”

Maka grumbled, grabbing him by his lapel roughly and tugging him to her, making him yelp. “Hold still.”

With her so close to his chest, he caught her scent mixed in with a new Bath and Body Works spray. It was subtle, but starkly different than her usual smell. The vanilla tickled at his nose, and somehow, it made him more embarrassed to be by her than ever. He was acting ridiculous— they were just going as friends.

As much as Maka was a perfectionist, she once again couldn’t get the boutonnière to sit on straight. Star had to roll his eyes and assist her, bumping hands every so often as they struggled to pin the stem correctly. They were distracted because of a couple of clicks from the camera, but eventually, they managed to get the flowers to sit securely with the help of an extra pin.

Sighing, Maka took him by the hand— as if she needed to convince him to come with her. “Let’s get pictures before the sun sets now. Then, it’s off to prom!”

“I’m still driving, right?” He asked stupidly, as if there were another answer. “I mean— never mind. We’re definitely getting Taco Bell after we leave.”

She squeezed him more tightly. “We will, I promise.”

The rest of their night went without a hitch. They took their miniature road trip down to the venue and took note of the late night diners on the way there. At the event, Star pulled out a can of Coca Cola to share while Maka complained about how warm it was from being in his pocket. Luckily, she realized how badly it must’ve been shaken and she went to exchange it at the free soda bar instead. It would be someone else’s problem. Later on, Maka slid their photo booth pictures into her clutch while Star went to request her favorite song to the DJ. Most importantly, there were no hidden agendas or boring partners to entertain, only each other.

Just thirty minutes before prom ended, Maka held onto Star’s jacket while he took a pee break down the hall. They planned to make their escape before the King and Queen were announced, but their sudden victory shocked no one except themselves. Her new tiara was balanced on her head while Star’s crown was looped around his bicep, especially since it kept falling off while they were dancing.

Once he got back, they snuck past the supervisors and successfully climbed into Star’s Jeep. There were burgers and milkshakes just ten minutes down the road and a lifetime of adventures still waiting for them.

---------------

There’s something different about tonight... He barely recognizes he’s been thinking about her and what he wants from their relationship for so long until Maka emerges from the shower in her random shorts and tee, toweling her hair. The thought strikes him harshly that she looks just as good to him at this moment as she did when he saw her dressed up for their high school prom.

That’s it. She’s it for him.

If this blows up in his face, he has no idea what he’ll do.

“Don’t— don’t make this weird.” He nearly falls off the edge of the bed at her voice, not expecting her to speak.

“Weird? What’s weird?”

“I don’t know, Star… Just stop looking at me like you’ve never seen me before,” she murmurs, glancing at him as she hangs the towel over the back of a chair. “You have that face on like when you run into someone from high school you don’t remember.”

— From Day 9: the interval between reach and grasp; dust the cracks in my heart with stardust, make me anew ; Reverb 2017 By @happyisahabit

#mastar #makaxblackstar #soul eater #serarepairdays #nessie spills #makaxstar #maka and blackstar #roadtrippin #roadtrippin au #liz u the illest

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niallsstainedcoffeecup · 5 years

Text

The Weekend Cottage

Harry dislikes his friend’s girlfriend, and attempts to destroy their relationship. Y/N finds herself aggravated from Harry’s tricks. Will Harry succeed in destroying the relationship, or will he find himself at the hands of fate? I hope you all enjoy. Feedback and requests are welcomed. Lots of love! ----------------------------------------

Her drooping eyes peeked through the narrow lines created by the raindrops trickling down the foggy windows and out onto the gray streets. An exasperated sigh parted her dry lips while she knuckled the sleep from her eyes. The mint green scoop emptied bitter coffee grounds inside the black coffeemaker. The neighbor’s cigarette smoke bled through the apartment’s thin wall. Her feet covered by fuzzy socks padded across the stained linoleum floor toward the buzzing fridge, her hands bypassed the overnight oats she prepared with the intent to eat healthier and slipped around the milk’s damp handle. Milk soaked the colorful cereal and marshmallows while she sipped the steaming coffee. Her thumbs scrolled past emails and messages from colleagues and friends. Joyce, her best friend since university, offered a free lunch at their favorite sandwich shop located near Y/N’s apartment. Y/N agreed, checking the hourly forecast with outfit ideas in mind. After breakfast, she dressed appropriately for the weather aside from the worn, white sneaker she wore everywhere. She fished through her black purse for the jingling car keys. A new message from Joyce’s long-term boyfriend, Andrew, reminded Y/N how late she would be if she didn’t find her keys in the next couple of minutes. A successful snicker escaped her lips once her fingers wrapped around the metal keys. She jogged down the creaking staircase and into the empty lobby. Y/N exited the apartment building, eyeing the red car she purchased after her university graduation. The black leather seats and lavender-scented air-freshener greeted Y/N once she opened the doors. She unlocked her phone, sending Andrew one last message before she left her building. I’ll be a few minutes late, but I can’t wait to see you! * * * * * *

Thick maroon curtains swayed against the beige walls lined with gold paintings. Men and women dressed in sleek, black suits paced around the candlelit store. Glass displays illuminated the expensive jewelry sat among the black velvet cushions. Andrew leaned his body into his sweaty palms pressed against the glass display’s gold trimming. “I selected three rings that I thought Joyce might like,” Andrew mumbled, releasing his teeth from his bottom lip. Y/N admired the three sparkling engagement rings, “Andrew, they are beautiful.” Five weeks ago, during a late dinner, Andrew asked Y/N for help choosing the perfect engagement ring for Joyce while Joyce snuck off to use the restroom. Now, Y/N blinked back happy tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks as she admired the rings. “Joyce would love all of these three designs. Hell, I love all of these rings, but the princess cut with the white gold band would look great on Joyce’s hand,” Y/N breathed out, looking into Andrew’s tear-filled eyes. Andrew’s beaming grin spread across his face before he wrapped his arms around Y/N. Y/N giggled, burying her face in Andrew’s sturdy chest. The spicy cologne Joyce purchased last Christmas for Andrew suffocated Y/N’s nose. Andrew tore away from the hug, informing a nearby salesperson about the decision. “When are you going to propose?” Y/N wondered. Andrew’s smile widened, “I asked my parents if we could borrow their weekend cottage. I’m sure Joyce will invite you to join us, but I planned on asking her during dinner with our friends.” “I can’t wait to see her reaction. Do you want to join us for lunch?” Y/N asked, walking toward the heavy oak doors. Andrew shook his head, pushing the door open with his hand and shoulder, “No, I told Joyce I had an early meeting. Don’t tell her anything.” Y/N rolled her eyes, “I won’t spoil the surprise. I’ll see you this weekend.” Andrew waved goodbye, darting through crowds of people walking around the shopping center. Y/N spun around, heading toward the sandwich shop where Joyce waited without knowledge about Andrew’s plan. * * * * * *

“Andrew’s parents let us borrow their cottage for the weekend. Will you join us?” Joyce asked, lunging forward to cup Y/N’s hands. Y/N chuckled, shrugging her shoulders, “I don’t know. My boss assigned everyone a new project.” Joyce’s bottom lip jutted out, “Please, Andrew is inviting his friends, and I want my best friend with me. His friends are attractive too.” Y/N snorted, lifting the sandwich drenched in olive oil, “Why do his attractive friends matter?” “You could flirt with these men. The cottage is also near a gigantic lake,” Joyce gushed, wiping the lemonade glass’s condensation from her palm. Y/N groaned, “Fine, you win. I’ll visit the cottage with you this weekend.” Joyce squealed with joy, bouncing back and forth in the plastic stool. Y/N giggled, stabbing her fork into the salad drenched in dressing. She couldn’t believe the excited freshman handing out chocolate chip cookies to everyone on their floor would be engaged by the end of the weekend. * * * * * *

Tall, oak trees grew near the curvy dirt path that led to the sandstone cottage. The green branches intertwined, blocking the sun’s warm rays from the shadowed path. The beige dirt crunched under Y/N’s car tires. Her eyes widened the further her car traveled through the woods. Vines dangled from the cyan tin roof and snaked around the stone bricks. After Y/N parked her car next to the four vehicles, the cyan screen door swung open with an eerie squeal. Joyce raced down the creaky porch stairs and toward Y/N with open arms. “You’re here. What do you think about the cottage? I don’t know if it has a horror or romantic vibe,” Joyce rushed out, looking around the forest. Y/N chuckled, tugging the heavy suitcase from the trunk, “I imagine Hugh Grant waiting inside the cottage for me with roses.” Joyce giggled, slinging her arm around Y/N’s shoulders, “What is your obsession with Hugh Grant?” “Have you seen young Hugh Grant?” Y/N asked, following Joyce through the front door. “Before you walk through the house, Andrew mentioned the house is a no-shoes house,” Joyce announced, slamming a hand against Y/N’s chest. Y/N whined, rubbing the sore spot on her chest, “Okay, I’ll remove my shoes.” Y/N’s worn white sneakers joined the lineup of sneakers located near the squeaky door. Her sock-clad feet sunk into the stain-free cream carpet. Floral candles covered the musty scent radiating off the stone bricks. Family portraits and expensive marble statues decorated the silent cottage that felt the opposite of comfortable. Y/N followed Joyce through the living room and into the narrow kitchen, where Andrew and friends conversed. “Y/N, how was the trip?” Andrew asked, wrapping his arms around Y/N. “I loved the scenic drive,” Y/N mumbled, tearing away from Andrew’s hug. Y/N faced Andrew’s friends, prepared to introduce herself to the new faces. Her mouth dried up once her eyes landed on the familiar short, curly locks that she adored. His crystal green eyes stared back into her own. “Hello, I’m Y/N. I’m Joyce’s friend,” Y/N announced, waving to the three strangers and Harry. Harry smiled, waving back at Y/N, “I’m Harry, that is Lina, Justin, and Mark.” “How long have you known Andrew?” Y/N asked, tearing her eyes from Harry. Lina snorted, “I’m Andrew’s childhood neighbor, so I’ve known him since birth. Mark, when did you meet him?” Mark huffed, searching for the answer in the ceiling, “I met Andrew during university.” “I’ve known Andrew since secondary school,” Harry mumbled. “You are all saints to put up with him,” Joyce joked, “Y/N and I met during university.” Y/N nodded, “Well, I loved meeting everyone. I need a restroom break.” “Right, the restroom is the second door on the left,” Andrew pointed toward the dark hallway. Y/N followed Andrew’s instructions, locking the white bathroom door. A shaky sigh parted Y/N’s lips while her sweaty palms clutched the gray counter. Her trembling fingers wrapped around the silver knob with the blue label. Cold water splashed onto her wrists and hands. “Honey, are you okay?” Joyce’s concerned voice startled Y/N’s attention away from her panicked reflection. Y/N cleared her throat, “Yeah, I’ll be outside in a few minutes.” “Andrew and I are going grocery shopping. Are you freaked out about Harry?” Joyce asked, praying Y/N wouldn’t disown her for keeping Andrew and Harry’s friendship a secret. Y/N rolled her eyes, opening the bathroom door, “Yeah, I did not expect to meet my idol today. Wait, you didn’t tell him that I love him, right?” Joyce fervently shook her head, “No, I would never do that. Are you okay?” Y/N smiled, “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Have fun with Andrew.” Joyce waved goodbye, running down the hall after Andrew. Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes at their sweet relationship. She followed the voices toward the backyard where Harry and Mark stood. Y/N admired the way his white t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders. She slid the glass door open, listening to Harry’s conversation. “Can you believe Andrew’s proposing to her? Why can’t he see that she doesn’t love him? She’s dating him to get his money,” Harry complained, pressing the beer bottle to his rosy lips. Y/N gasped, stumbling over her feet. How could someone who preaches treating people with kindness, talk bad about his friend’s girlfriend? Y/N would not let Harry talk badly about Joyce when he didn’t know her. “Hey, you can’t talk bad about Joyce. You don’t even know her, so how do you know she wants Andrew’s money? Joyce would never use anyone for their money,” Y/N hissed, watching Harry and Mark slowly turn around with unamused scowls spread across their face. Harry chuckled bitterly, “Listen, what is your name? You should eavesdrop on someone else’s conversation.” Y/N glared, pointing her finger at Harry’s smug grin, “You are an asshole. Why would Andrew invite you?” “He invited me because I’m his friend. He invited you because he pitied Joyce for her lack of friends,” Harry stated through that smug grin. Y/N shook her head, disappearing inside the house. She couldn’t ruin Andrew’s romantic surprise with her complaints about his rude friend. She decided her best bet was to avoid Harry this weekend. * * * * * *

The orange sun dipped below the pines trees and cast a salmon pink glow onto the cottage. Floral scented bug spray masked the smoke billowing from the fire pit. Andrew and Harry heaved thick logs inside the glowing fire pit while Joyce handed out roasting sticks. Lina ripped the plastic marshmallow bag open with her teeth, and Justin and Mark lugged the cooler filled with alcoholic beverages onto the backyard deck. “Are we ready for smores?” Andrew asked, wiping the bark from his sore hands onto his dark jeans. Joyce shook her head, glancing up toward the bedroom window, “I’m going to check on Y/N. Harry, are you sure Y/N said she didn’t want smores?” Harry nodded fervently, “She mentioned something about needing rest from the trip. I offered to run her a bath, but she denied it all.” Joyce frowned, tutting under her breath, “Well, I’ll check on her one more time.” Joyce entered the cool house while Andrew and his friends looked through playlists. Her knuckles rapped softly against the wooden door. “Love, are you okay? Harry told us that you weren’t feeling well from the trip,” Joyce asked, leaning against the doorframe. The wooden door clicked open, revealing the spacious cream-colored room. A pinkish glow settled around the room from the window where Joyce could spot Andrew and his friends. Y/N plopped down onto the white duvet while Joyce admired the expensive art that lined the white walls. “Are you okay?” Joyce asked, sitting down beside Y/N. Y/N nodded, “Yeah, what did Harry say?” “He told us that you declined the smores because you needed rest,” Joyce mumbled, shifting her focus toward the large window again. Y/N nodded, debating whether she should inform Joyce about Harry’s cruel words, or should she ignore Harry for Andrew’s sake. What kind of friend would she be, if she ruined her best friend’s proposal weekend? She huffed, gripping her head, “Yeah, I’m exhausted. We can spend time together tomorrow.” Joyce smiled, wrapping her arms around Y/N’s body, “Okay, I love you. I think Harry is sleeping across the hall, so if you need anything, you can ask him. I think he likes you.” Once Joyce left, Y/N snorted at the thought of Harry talking positively about her. She leaned against the wooden bed frame and flipped through the book’s fresh pages. She read until the sparkling stars replaced the pink sunset. She drifted to sleep while Joyce, Andrew, and his friends celebrated the weekend around the roaring fire. * * * * * *

Exhausted snores echoed throughout the small cottage. Y/N tiptoed past the bedroom doors with her blue tote bag clutched tightly underneath her arm. Sunlight greeted her delicate eyes the minute she entered the living room. She tipped the sunglasses perched atop her head onto the bridge of her nose. Joyce’s words about the gigantic lake warmed the goosebumps that coated Y/N’s skin. “Where are you going dressed like that?” Harry’s groggy morning voice startled Y/N’s hand away from the door handle. Y/N spun around, yelping once her face came into contact with Harry’s bare chest. Harry chuckled, stepping backward, admiring Y/N’s frazzled actions. “What are you doing?” Y/N hissed, shifting her eyes around the room rather than on Harry. Harry snorted, crossing his arms across his chest, “I’m an early riser. Where are you going?” Y/N huffed, sliding the tote bag further up her arm, “Joyce mentioned something about a lake about two miles away, so I planned on visiting it while everyone slept.” “A lake? No, unless you mean the pond almost two miles away that dried up years ago, then I think Joyce lied,” Harry grumbled, furrowing his brows in confusion. Y/N rolled her eyes, “Why would I believe you? You made it clear how you feel about Joyce and me. I’d rather trust my best friend than you.” “Fine, you don’t have to believe me, but I spent multiple summers in this cottage,” Harry stated in his sing-song voice. Y/N shook her head, ignoring the nagging voice residing in her brain that trusted Harry more than Joyce. Her hands gripped the door’s metal handle as she slid the heavy door open without making noise for the sleeping residents. She glanced back, wishing she hadn’t when she spotted Harry’s smug grin as he waved goodbye to her. She rolled her eyes, jogging down the creaking deck stairs and dirt pathway. How could someone as handsome as Harry be cruel? Why did she still crave his rosy lips when he disliked her? She shook her head, choosing to embrace the summer heat instead of her hatred for Harry. The overgrown grass and weeds tickled her ankles while she admired the squirrels racing up and down the tall trees. After strolling through the woods for about forty minutes, she stumbled across the wide yet shallow dip in the Earth. The tan dirt cracked from the dry heat and lack of water. Y/N stood there with her mouth open like a fish out of the water while Harry’s words taunted her mind, “Unless you mean the pond almost two miles away that dried up years ago, then I think Joyce lied”. Joyce lied. * * * * * *

The bottom of Y/N’s feet ached from the rocky path not created for sandals. Her fingernails scratched the red, swollen bug bites dotted around her sticky skin. A sigh parted her lips when her eyes spotted the familiar cottage, but dread churned within her stomach. She wasn’t prepared for Harry’s cocky attitude waiting for her arrival so he could say, “I told you so”. Should she have listened to Harry? Yes, but he never provided enough reasoning for her to trust him. She continued the walk of shame across the deck until the refreshing AC greeted her boiling skin. After she dropped the tote bag beside the door, she found Harry hiding his smirk behind a purple coffee mug. She rolled her eyes, shuffling toward the uncomfortable white couch that Harry lounged on. “Could you wipe that stupid smirk off your face for five seconds?” Y/N hissed, plopping down beside Harry’s feet. “I’m sorry. I’ll try not to smile when you tell me that I was right,” Harry shrugged. Y/N huffed, shaking her head, “You were right about the lake.” “Right, does Joyce always lie?” Harry asked, ignoring Y/N’s jaw drop from his question. Y/N shook her head, “Why would you ask that? Did Joyce lie about the lake? Yes, but she thought I wouldn’t come without a bribe.” Harry snorted, “Bribing isn’t a good trait either. I need to warn Andrew that his future wife lies and bribes people.” “Why do you insist on breaking them up? What did Joyce ever do to you? Are you jealous of their love since nobody can last two months with you?” Y/N growled, standing to her feet. Harry glared, opening his mouth with the perfect comeback in mind when Andrew strolled into the living room. Y/N and Harry straightened up, plastering fake smiles across their faces. “Good morning. What are you two doing up?” Andrew asked, heading toward the kitchen. Harry chuckled, slipping off the couch to chase after Andrew, “Oh, you know how much I love waking up early. Y/N, what did you do this morning?” Y/N shot daggers at Harry’s back as she followed him inside the kitchen, “Joyce mentioned something about a lake, but it turned out to be a pond.” Andrew laughed, pouring the steaming coffee inside a red mug, “I told her about that pond. I had my first kiss at that pond with a nearby neighbor.” Harry tutted, leaning his elbows onto the cold marble counters, “Does Joyce lie to you?” Y/N’s blood boiled from Harry’s question that surprised Andrew enough for him to choke on his coffee. Y/N offered Andrew a nearby napkin to blot the coffee from his chin while Harry waited impatiently for the answer. “Does Joyce lie to me? Well, everyone can’t be one hundred percent honest all of the time. I’m sure she does lie to me, but it never hurts me or my life,” Andrew mumbled, grabbing an orange from the intricately carved glass bowl. Y/N nodded, changing the subject away from her friend, who wasn’t in the room to defend herself, “Yeah, everyone lies at one point in their lives, you must have lied about something, right Harry? I mean, being a pop star requires you to lie—about dating women, your friendship with previous band members, and your entire life.” “Well, at least I would never lie to the person I plan on spending the rest of my life with,” Harry countered. “Are you two hungry? Joyce and I want to grab breakfast from the diner down the street,” Andrew mumbled, breaking the tension between Y/N and Harry. “I’m starving,” Y/N and Harry stated at the same time. Andrew nodded, exiting the kitchen in search for Joyce while Y/N and Harry glared into each other’s eyes. Y/N despised the handsome man standing before her. She couldn’t wait until Andrew proposed to Joyce, so Y/N wouldn’t have to spend her weekend with Harry. * * * * * *

Grease soaked the white and yellow wrappers labeled with different breakfast sandwiches. Roasted coffee beans masked the floral candles burning on the kitchen counter. Lina rubbed the sleep from her eyes while Justin unwrapped their sandwiches. Mark mixed alcohol into the steaming coffee and reassured the entire table that he only drank on the weekend. Andrew and Harry discussed the dinner plans that revolved around either Harry or Andrew grilling. Joyce passed out the sandwiches, and Y/N handed everyone the toasted hash-brown. “Harry, Andrew told me that you don’t eat eggs, so I ordered you the yogurt parfait. I eat them whenever we visit Andrew’s parents, and I can’t get enough of them,” Joyce grinned, handing Harry the yogurt cup. Harry scowled, setting the sticky yogurt cup beside the sweating glass of water. Joyce’s smile faltered from the cold expression she received. Last night, Harry avoided all conversation with Joyce, which sent her worried heart into a frenzy. If Harry didn’t approve of her, then Andrew might listen to Harry and end their relationship. Joyce adored Andrew and couldn’t imagine her life without him, so she asked Andrew about Harry’s favorite items to win his approval. Now, she wished she ordered him the same egg sandwich everyone else received. “I don’t eat sugar in the morning. These yogurt cups may look healthy, but too many of these could spoil a diet,” Harry grumbled, handing Mark the yogurt cup. “Oh, I didn’t think about that,” Joyce mumbled through her plastered on smile. Y/N recognized the fake smile spread across Joyce’s face. Joyce loved pleasing everyone, so Y/N could only imagine how worried Joyce was when her boyfriend’s best friend wasn’t the nicest. Joyce may avoid confrontation with Harry, but Y/N couldn’t let Harry mistreat her friend. She swallowed the dry biscuit down her throat in preparation for her argument. “Joyce, don’t listen to Harry. The yogurt cup is divine,” Mark moaned, spooning the strawberry sauce into his mouth. Joyce giggled, patting Mark’s shoulders, “I’m glad you like it. Harry, can I make you anything else?” Harry shook his head, standing from the table, “I’m not hungry. I think I’m going to relax on the deck.” Y/N mentally thanked Harry for taking his rotten attitude outside, so the rest of the group could enjoy their breakfast. Andrew rubbed Joyce’s shoulders while he wondered what happened to his best friend. Nobody discussed Harry’s distant behavior, but everyone created excuses for the pop star, everyone except Y/N. * * * * * *

Soft indie music flowed throughout the dark woods. The stars sparkled over the seven friends gathered around the dying fire. Joyce cuddled into Andrew’s side, Lina plopped down on Justin’s lap, and Y/N sat between Mark and Harry. The marshmallow roasting sticks, discarded hours ago, sat near their feet. “Justin, how did you meet Lina?” Y/N asked, sipping the sparkling red wine. Lina giggled, pressing her red-stained lips against Justin’s thick neck, “Well, my friend planned on attending the local university art show. My friend dragged me to the show with the promise of free alcohol. I knew nothing about the artist, but I loved her work. After chugging too many glasses of champagne, I found the most beautiful girl standing before my favorite painting. I approached her, and she listened to me compliment the art until she finally confessed that she was the artist. She scribbled her number across my arm, and we met for breakfast the next morning.” “That’s so sweet,” Joyce squealed, squeezing her arms around Andrew’s waist. Y/N nodded, “You are what the kids would call couple goals.” Lina and Justin admired each other’s eyes as if their entire world resided within one another’s pupils. Y/N’s heart craved a relationship like that, where she need only that person. Harry glanced over at Y/N, noticing the longing gaze in her eyes after Justin’s story. His heart fluttered from the idea of staring into her beautiful eyes the same way his friends were doing. “Joyce, how did you meet Andrew,” Harry asked, tossing an extra log into the fire. Andrew and Joyce tensed from Harry’s question. Y/N understood the reasoning behind Joyce’s nervous smile. Y/N and Joyce visited the local bookstore near the campus, where Andrew happened to work. Joyce saw Andrew from across the room and tugged Y/N into the children’s book section to inform Y/N that the love of her life happened to be in the store. Y/N giggled, rolling her eyes because Joyce believed everyone was her soulmate. Joyce fixed her hair and strutted across the store toward the register. Andrew and Joyce flirted for multiple minutes until Joyce returned with Andrew’s number in her phone. What Andrew didn’t know was that Joyce had a long-distance boyfriend that she meant to break up with months ago, but couldn’t find the right time. What Joyce didn’t know was that Andrew had an on-again, off-again relationship with his ex-girlfriend. The two dated until they found out about their significant others. Andrew ended the relationship, which left Joyce devasted for months until Y/N helped Andrew rekindle the couple’s love. Y/N knew Joyce’s story would provide ample reasoning for Harry breaking up their relationship. “I met Andrew at the bookstore, where we flirted until we started dating,” Joyce mumbled, tearing away from Andrew’s grip. Mark frowned, furrowing his brows, “Why are you giving him the short story? What about the part where you were dating someone else, and Andrew wouldn’t stop fucking Claire.” “That part isn’t important for our story,” Andrew hissed, pleading for Mark to shut up. Harry’s eyes darted between Andrew and Joyce, who separated from the awkward story. His mind cheered upon the realization that he could break up their relationship with this story, but his heart sunk when he watched Andrew grip Joyce’s hand to reassure her that everything would be okay. He spent all weekend searching for problems in Joyce when he never noticed the love between the couple. He barely knew the girl that his best friend fell in love with, and he insisted on changing that. “Joyce, I appreciate your story. You and Andrew have a beautiful relationship,” Harry grinned, shooting a subtle wink at Andrew. Joyce smiled with relief, “Thank you.” Y/N’s shocked eyes stared at Harry as if he’d gone insane. Lina changed the subject away from Joyce, but Y/N couldn’t focus after Harry’s kind action. After a short chuckle from the story, Harry shot Y/N a sheepish smile before returning his attention toward Lina. Y/N shook her head, hiding her smug grin behind the wine glass. * * * * * *

“Well, I enjoyed the conversation. I am exhausted,” Harry yawned, standing from the green chair. Everyone mumbled their goodnights as Harry entered the cool house. Andrew continued his story about grade school, but Y/N’s heart replayed Harry’s sheepish grin. She chugged the remaining wine in her glass and stood to her feet. “I am going to bed. I’ll see everyone in the morning,” Y/N spoke through her fake yawn. Everyone nodded, waving goodbye as she entered the house. She waited a few minutes for anyone to follow her inside before tiptoeing toward Harry’s room. Her stomach fluttered from the nerves and butterflies as her knuckles rapped against the wood. What if he fell asleep? What if was mad that she woke him up? What if he acted nice to fool Joyce and Y/N for his ultimate plan? Y/N’s panicked thoughts stopped once Harry’s door creaked open. She expected Harry to look shocked that Y/N was outside his room, but all she found was guilt residing in his green eyes. “Come inside,” Harry mumbled, shifting backward for Y/N to enter. The large bedroom contained the similar white walls and cream carpet aesthetic; however, framed baseball posters lined the walls. The queen-sized bed featured a white duvet with navy blue baseball-themed sheets. Y/N assumed Andrew lived in this room as a child. “I’m glad you came to my room. I hoped you understood my subliminal message outside,” Harry shuffled across the room toward the bed. Y/N giggled, “Yeah, you shocked me outside. I expected you to pick on Joyce for cheating on Andrew.” Harry winced, “Was I that horrible all weekend?” “Yes, you ignored her all weekend, you accused her of lying to Andrew, and you would have mentioned the cheating incident,” Y/N admitted, watching Harry cringe with each statement. Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, “I wanted to apologize to you. I plan on apologizing to Joyce tomorrow when everyone isn’t around. I treated you cruelly, and I am not the type of person to do that. I responded out of jealousy.” Y/N furrowed her brows, brushing a hand down Harry’s arm, “Who were you jealous of?” Harry glanced up into Y/N’s eyes with shame clouding his pupils, “I was jealous of you. Before Andrew started dating Joyce, we talked almost every day about our lives. When I released the new album, I pushed Andrew to the side. He messaged me with the idea of proposing, and I ignored him because the fans needed me more. I expected him to wait for me, but he didn’t, and he chose you to help him instead. I messaged him with multiple ring ideas from Gucci designers, and when he told me the news, I became jealous that you took my spot as Andrew’s best friend.” “I could never replace you, Harry. Andrew is your best friend, but he needed someone who understood Joyce. I think you need to tell Andrew and Joyce how you felt, they will understand. You are a kind man, and you reacted out of fear and jealousy. We are all humans,” Y/N chuckled, smiling wider once that dimpled grin spread across Harry’s face. “Thank you,” Harry breathed out, staring into Y/N’s starry eyes. The couple didn’t notice the short distance between them until Harry’s minty breath fanned across her face. Y/N gasped inaudibly, placing her palms against Harry’s sturdy chest. She admired the blue specks mixed with Harry’s crystal green eyes. “Can I kiss you?” Harry breathed out. “Please,” Y/N whispered, wrapping her arms around Harry’s neck. Harry’s rosy lips brushed against her own until she finally captured his lips between hers. Harry sighed into the kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist while her fingers slotted through his luscious hair. Harry’s tongue traced her lips, begging for entrance into her mouth. A soft moan parted her lips after Harry squeezed her butt. Harry’s tongue entered her mouth that still tasted like the sparkling red wine. Their tongues melted together while they pressed their bodies flush against one another. Harry pulled away from the kiss, searching for Y/N’s consent for their upcoming plans. “I am okay,” Y/N promised. Harry’s fingers clumsily gripped the bottom hem of her shirt, tugging until the shirt interrupted their kiss. They stumbled backward toward the bed, tumbling down onto the springy mattress together. Harry’s sudden infatuation surprised and worried Y/N. Did Harry have feelings for her, or was he channeling his hatred through sex? Y/N didn’t know the answer, but she hoped Harry had feelings for her too. * * * * * *

The chirping birds outside the window stirred Harry from his sleep. His eyelids fluttered open while his hands searched for Y/N’s warm body. The frozen sheets informed him that Y/N disappeared from the bed hours ago. His dimpled grin fell as he tossed aside the sheets from his body. He shuffled down the dark hallway, listening to Lina and Y/N speak about life plans. “Yeah, we could grab lunch next week,” Lina gushed, blending what Harry assumed was a smoothie. Harry knuckled the sleep from his eyes before entering the kitchen. The marble counter contained a purple bowl filled with chopped strawberries, a blue bowl filled with chopped bananas, and a final bowl contained homemade whipped cream. Lina stood near the fridge, where she blended blueberries and other fruits into the purple smoothie that sat in three cups. Harry assumed Y/N and Lina planned on surprising everyone with the extravagant breakfast. His eyes drifted away from the counter as he stumbled toward Y/N’s glowing figure. “Good morning,” Harry cooed, reaching for her hips so he could pull her in for a kiss. Y/N grinned, twisting away from Harry’s arms, “Good morning. Lina, are you almost finished with the smoothies?” “Yes, how did you sleep, Harry?” Lina asked, handing him a purple smoothie. Harry hid the confusion burning inside his chest as he told Lina about his rest. He kept eyeing Y/N, who remained emotionless as she poured the batter onto the sizzling skillet. Did she regret last night? Was she drunk, and forgot that she slept with him? Why was she acting like she barely knew him? “Well, I’m going to wake up Justin,” Lina announced, drying her hands on the dishrag. Harry grinned, watching Lina pad across the kitchen and into the living room. Once Lina disappeared, Harry spun around on his feet to face Y/N. Y/N glanced up from the bubbling pancakes and met Harry’s stern glare. “What?” She asked, flipping the pancake. Harry gasped, walking toward Y/N until their chests brushed against each other, “Did you forget about last night?” Y/N blushed, placing her palms against Harry’s chest, “No, I didn’t forget about last night. I do not think our friends should find out about our adventures because they might assume we are a couple.” Harry’s heart sunk from her words. Did she not want to date Harry? Was she interested solely in sex? Harry adored everything he knew about her, from her feisty attitude to her sweet gestures for her friends. “You don’t want to date me?” Harry asked, attempting to hide his hurt feelings, but Y/N’s sympathetic frown told him that he failed. Y/N cupped Harry’s cheeks, “I want to date you, but I don’t know you. You were mean to me the entire weekend, so I would like to know you outside of this situation. I also don’t want to steal Joyce’s spotlight by telling everyone that we fucked.” Harry chuckled, wrapping his arms around her waist, “You are cute.” Y/N giggled, leaning on her toes to press her lips against Harry’s rosy lips. Harry pulled away from her lips but trailed his lips down her smooth neck. His hot breath splashed across her skin, sending chills down her spine. A moan parted her lips as Harry sucked a fresh love bite onto her neck. “I love the sounds you make. Now, can I help you with breakfast?” Harry asked, straightening up and acting as if he hadn’t left Y/N all dazed. Y/N rolled her eyes, grumbling playfully underneath her breath, “Sure, you can help by finishing what you started.” Harry tutted, swatting a palm against her butt, “We can’t have Andrew or Joyce walking in on me fucking you on the kitchen counter.” Y/N gasped, clenching her thighs from the image of Harry and her on the counter. Harry shot her his famous smug grin before exiting the kitchen with plates. Y/N’s heart stuttered from his smug grin that she once despised. She knew Harry wormed his way into everyone’s heart, but she never expected her heart to be this weak for him. She couldn’t wait until they left the cottage, so she could kiss Harry without worrying about her friends walking in. * * * * * *

Andrew whistled a happy tune while he strolled out from the bedroom. Two pairs of hands gripped his white button-down shirt and tugged him inside the dark bathroom. A startled yelp fell from his thin lips before Harry’s hand clamped against his mouth. Y/N flipped the light switch, illuminating the dark bathroom, and calming Andrew’s fear. “Are you ready?” Y/N and Harry asked, cornering Andrew. Andrew nodded, staring wide-eyed between his beaming friends, “I have the ring in my pocket. Did Mark finish cooking the roast?” “Yes, and Harry helped me bake Joyce’s favorite chocolate cake. When do you plan on doing it?” Y/N wondered, picturing Andrew asking during dinner. Andrew shrugged, running his sweaty palms down the front of his shirt, “I don’t know. Should I ask before dinner?” Harry shook his head, “If you asked before dinner, then she would be too happy to eat. You could ask before dessert.” Y/N nodded, straightening the wrinkles in Andrew’s shirt, “Before dessert sounds good to me. Are you nervous?” Andrew chuckled ironically, “I don’t think I’ve ever sweated more in my life. What if she says no?” Y/N rolled her eyes, “Andrew, Joyce adores you with every fiber in her body. It is normal to feel nervous, but remember that you know Joyce better than anyone. You know how crazy she feels about you, and how much you both want a future together.” “Thank you,” Andrew smiled, wrapping his arms around both Y/N and Harry. Andrew exited the bathroom first, leaving Y/N and Harry alone inside the bathroom. Harry grinned, leaning against the cold tile counter, “You are good at giving advice.” Y/N smiled, stuffing napkins inside the dress’s pockets, “Thank you. You are quite the romantic.” Harry smirked, tugging Y/N closer by the hips, “Can I kiss you?” “You can kiss me whenever you want,” Y/N breathed out, sealing Harry’s lips with her own. The sweet kiss lasted a few seconds before the couple decided they better exit the bathroom before people became suspicious. Y/N headed toward the kitchen to help Mark and Justin while Harry talked with Joyce about Andrew’s childhood adventures. Y/N couldn’t believe that in a few hours, her best friend would be engaged. * * * * * *

“The roast tasted delicious,” Joyce complimented a blushing Mark. Mark swatted his hand, pouring more red wine into her glass, “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I stole the recipe from my ex-girlfriend’s mother.” Lina’s abrupt laughter caused the red wine to spew from her mouth and onto the table, “I’m sorry, but you stole that recipe from an ex-girlfriend’s mom. You date people?” Mark glared, playfully mocking Lina while everyone laughed around the table, “At least I don’t spit my wine out.” “Yeah, we knew you liked swallowing rather than spitting,” Harry joked, collecting the dirty dishes from the table. The entire table erupted into laughter from Harry’s joke. Mark and Harry continued swapping sexual innuendos while Y/N passed the chocolate cake around the table. She noticed Andrew fidgeting beside Joyce, who didn’t notice her boyfriend clutching the small, black box inside his palms. Andrew cleared his throat, the signal for everyone to quiet down. Y/N plopped down beside Harry, waiting with everyone for the moment when Andrew popped the question. Joyce straightened up, focusing her attention on Andrew’s pale figure. “Sweetie, are you okay?” Joyce asked, cupping Andrew’s face. Andrew chuckled nervously, standing to his feet before kneeling on one knee, “I have never been better. Joyce, the minute you entered my life, I knew I wanted to spend forever with you. I want to wake up every morning from you singing in the shower. I want to return home to you after a hard day of work because you make everything better. I want to start a family with you, so we can bring our children to this cottage. I want to stand beside you at the altar, and say those two words. I want to marry you, so will you marry me?” A breathless chuckle fell from Joyce’s lips while her shaking hands covered her mouth. Silent sobs shook her body as tears rolled down her cheeks. Lina and Justin cuddled into one another, cooing from the sweet moment. Mark swallowed the lump in his throat down with wine. Y/N sniffled, dabbing the tears from her eyes with the tissues she stowed away in her dress. Harry looked at Y/N’s beautiful face, deciding he wanted to spend multiple years with Y/N. He reached for her hand under the table, squeezing it to show that he was there for her. Y/N’s smile widened from the sweet gesture, but her eyes never left Joyce, who slowly shook her head yes. Everyone cheered, standing from their chairs and clinking wine glasses together while Joyce and Andrew shared their first kiss as an engaged couple. * * * * * *

“I’m engaged,” Joyce squealed, dangling her hand in front of Y/N’s face. Y/N giggled, admiring the sparkling diamond ring, “I know. The ring looks beautiful on you.” “Thank you for helping Andrew choose the ring,” Joyce mumbled, tilting her hand from side to side. Y/N nodded, leaning her head against the stiff white couch’s cushion, “You’re welcome. You’re my best friend. I knew what you wanted.” Joyce giggled, falling into silence after the small squeal from the ring’s reflections. The whirring dishwasher roared throughout the silent house. Justin, Lina, and Mark retired to their bedrooms after dessert while the rest of the group split off. Harry and Andrew were talking outside under the cloudy night sky, and Y/N and Joyce chose the sofa, where they discussed wedding plans. Y/N yawned, scrolling through messages from Harry that centered around how much he missed her. She rolled her eyes, smiling from his cheesy messages that warmed her heart. “Since I’m your best friend, will you tell me something?” Joyce asked, shifting her attention away from the ring and toward Y/N. Y/N nodded, dropping the phone onto her lap, “What do you want to know?” “How was last night with Harry?” Joyce smirked, laughing when Y/N choked on her saliva. “What? What do you mean? I slept alone last night,” Y/N lied. Joyce rolled her eyes dramatically, “Sure, and I will stop bragging about my ring in a few hours. Andrew and I know about last night because we walked by his room and heard you two. If you didn’t want anyone to find out, then don’t do it in a cottage you are sharing with your friends.” Y/N groaned, palming her face, “Why didn’t we wait? I’m sorry, I didn’t want to steal your thunder, and I didn’t even know if Harry and I were going to date.” Joyce shook her head, holding Y/N’s hands in her own, “You are not stealing my thunder. Andrew and I liked the idea of you two together before you even met. Whenever we noticed the tension between the two of you, we assumed you would either sleep together or kill each other. I’m glad you chose the first option. Do you like him?” Y/N giggled, thinking about Harry’s adorable smile, “I like him. Do you remember when you swore to me that Andrew was your soulmate? Well, I feel like Harry could be that person for me. Sure, I don’t know him, but this attraction goes beyond sex.” Joyce squealed, “I knew it. I’m glad you found someone that drives you crazy.” Y/N laughed, shaking her head at Joyce’s over-excitement. Joyce returned the conversation to the wedding while Y/N messaged Harry. Her heart swooned over the curly-haired man chatting outside with his friend. * * * * * *

“Are you insane? Who chooses Colin Firth over Hugh Grant?” Y/N cried out. Harry clutched his chest, acting insulted from Y/N’s words, “Are you insulting Colin Firth? Hugh Grant plays the asshole, but you still support him throughout the film.” Y/N shook her head, tossing popcorn into Harry’s mouth, “No, I do not support him. He does play the asshole, but I would rather fuck him because he’s hot.” Harry pouted, crossing his arms across his chest, “I’m hot too.” Y/N giggled, setting the popcorn bowl onto Harry’s glass coffee table. She scooted across the smooth, gray suede couch toward Harry’s pouting lips. “You are hot, and I would choose you over Hugh Grant and Colin Firth any day,” Y/N purred, wrapping her arms around Harry’s neck, bringing his lips down to her own. Harry smirked, melting into Y/N’s arms while he enjoyed her soft lips pressed onto his own. Y/N broke the kiss, staring into Harry’s dazed green eyes. “Should we finish the film? I think Bridget might choose Hugh Grant,” Y/N whispered, chuckling when Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, can I hold the popcorn? You keep hogging the popcorn,” Harry whined, reaching for the popcorn bowl. The blonde woman chased after Hugh Grant and Colin Firth onto the street. Harry shoveled popcorn into his mouth with one hand while his other hand held Y/N’s hands. Y/N expected after five dates with Harry, she would get used to her heart fluttering from his touch, but her heart nearly leaped out of her chest whenever she spent time with Harry. She kept her attention on the television screen, unlike Harry, who often took breaks to admire Y/N’s beauty. Y/N brightened his day within seconds, whether in person or over the phone. His smile never faltered around the beautiful girl, and his stomach never stopped fluttering when her skin brushed his. He returned his attention toward the screen, where Bridget followed her true love into the snowstorm. “Hey, do you consider us exclusive?” Harry asked, running his thumb across her knuckles. “Wait, you want us to be exclusive? Shit, I better break up with my three other boyfriends,” Y/N giggled, dodging the popcorn Harry chunked at her. Harry rolled his eyes, chuckling at her joke, “I’m serious. I care about you, and I want to reassure you that I’m serious about us.” Y/N smiled through her racing heart, “Me too. I care about you too. Will you be my boyfriend?” Harry smiled, cupping Y/N’s face, “Yes, will you be my girlfriend?” Y/N nodded, pressing her lips against Harry’s rosy lips. The credits flashed across the screen, but the couple didn’t seem to care at that moment. Y/N couldn’t wait to tell Joyce about her new relationship, and Harry couldn’t wait to thank Andrew for introducing him to Y/N. All Y/N and Harry needed were one another.

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remcase · 5 years

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Chapter 17

Let him kiss me with the kisses

Of his mouth: for thy love

Is better than wine.

-Song of Solomon, 1:2

The opportunity of an empty house presented itself the next day over breakfast. Still sleepy, William was only half listening to his mother cheerily chatter when Noah nudged him under the table, making a slight gesture towards her with his chin. He tuned into the conversation.

“John, love, we need to show our faces.”

“They’re not my friends, Holly.”

“John.”

“Holly.”

Biting back a smile at his father’s petulant expression, William cut over their bickering. “What are you talking about?”

“You know the neighbours down the lane? Claire and her husband? They invited us over for dinner, and John won’t go.” She widened her eyes at her son beseechingly. “Shouldn’t we go? It would be rude not to.”

William didn’t need Noah’s nudge under the table to sense the upcoming opportunity. “Yes.” He blurted out immediately, nodding alongside his mother. “You should go. You don’t want them to think you don’t like them. Besides, Dad, free food!”

John stared at his son, betrayed and wounded. “Will, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

“I’ll be on your side, Dad.” Arthur offered but Holly glared at him. “You’re not even going, Arthur, so keep out of it.”

Arthur wisely backed down, turning back to Olivia with raised eyebrows. She only chuckled, popping a grape into her mouth. They were both spending the night at Olivia’s home, as they did every few days or so, and if his parents went out that night they wouldn’t be home until late. He tried to push Holly a bit farther. “Noah and I will be here anyway, so we can hold down the fort while you and Dad are gone.”

John pointed his knife at his son jokingly. “You’re officially not getting your inheritance.”

“What, that old piece of junk you drive?” William threw back with a grin. “I’m good without it, thanks.”

John just humphed, taking an aggressive bite out of his toast. “Fine. Fine! I’ll go. But there not, and I mean it Holly, there is no way you’re leaving me alone with Claire’s husband. It’s like talking to paint drying. I don’t want to have to fake a stroke.”

“Your acting skills aren’t that good.” Holly said, but reached across the table and covered his hand with hers. “But I promise.”

“Thank you.”

Content now that John had, albeit reluctantly, agreed to go, Holly turned to the boys, her smile warm, “Will, Noah, would you like to come?”

“We’re fine.” William said immediately for them both, ignoring the daggers his father was throwing his way. “We were going to just hang out and watch a movie or something.”

“Well you’re welcome to come if you change your mind.”

Noah returned her smile. “Thanks, Holly.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

After breakfast, William and Noah hurried up to his room under the pretence of going back for Noah’s phone, and once the door was closed behind them they grinned at each other. Noah bounced excitedly on his heels. “You still ok for this, gorgeous?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

“I know we’re planning this, but for your first time I don’t want it to be all awkward and forced. It should feel spontaneous, fun, so leave it to me, ok? Don’t even think about it, if you can manage it.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.” William chuckled, a warm feeling unfurling in his stomach- anticipation mixed with intense, heady love. “But I can try. Thank you for thinking of me.”

“Anytime.” Noah promised, then smoothed William’s shirt over his shoulders. “Now, all we have to do is act normal until everyone is gone. Think you can manage that?”

“I’ll try my best.” William joked, and when he opened the door, Noah smacked his ass playfully with a laugh. “That’s my boy.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur and William was torn between lustful imaginings of how his night would end, anxious fluttering in his chest and stomach as he considered the physical aspect of what they were going to do, and then the desperate suppressing of both of these feelings as he tried to do what Noah had told him. Noah, as expected, was calm and collected, singing cheerily along with the radio as he helped William make lunch, sprawling in the sun room with Chunk and idly scratching his little ears as he and William talked about everything and nothing, and even idly watching a television show in the early evening as John and Holly prepared to leave the house. If he noticed Williams fidgeting, he didn’t let on, keeping a respectful distance from him on the couch while his family were home.

The distance made William more nervous, and he resolved to tell his parents about Noah as soon as he could summon the courage. Maybe across the phone? No. But certainly not now, while Noah was with him, and staying in his bedroom. No, he’d wait until graduation. Then, if anything went wrong he could escape to college. It would be fine. It would be good.

Right?

Eventually, Holly had put the final touches on her outfit and came into the sitting room to wish the boys goodnight and, as William had anticipated, told them that they would be home late so they should turn off all the lights and lock the door before they went to bed.

“Be safe, boys, ok?” Holly said, and Noah hid a smirk behind a hand at her unintended meaning and excused himself to go to the bathroom, leaving William and his mother alone. With a quick glance at the closed door, Holly then turned to William with a conspirator’s smile. “I like him, Will.”

“So do I.” He responded plainly, though it made him exceedingly happy that she approved of him, even in just friendship.

“He’s a good boy, I can tell. A bit quiet at times, and he must be so lonely at home.”

William tried not to picture Noah all alone in the tiny grey apartment of his imagination. “He’s got his parents.”

She clucked maternally. “Make sure to offer or him to stay over whenever he likes, ok? I don’t like the thought of him feeling lonely.”

“I’ll pass on the message.”

“I love you, honey.” Holly said and kissed his cheek, leaving the familiar scent of her perfume lingering around him. “If you get hungry there’s food in the fridge, ok? Have fun.”

“You too, Mom. I love you.”

Holly just blew him another kiss and click-clacked in her heels out the door, shutting and locking it behind her. The house was cast into silence and William sighed with relief, revelling in the total absence of sound, closing his eyes, and relaxing into the couch. The gentle click of the door handle opening caught his attention, and his eyes opened immediately, his every nerve firing with anticipation.

Noah eased the door open slowly and William felt his mouth grow dry and his blood rush throughout his body, pooling immediately in his face and lower stomach. Wearing just one of William’s plain white shirts, Noah grinned coyly at him and crossed the room slowly, with intent. He wore just a plain pair of underwear beneath the already half un-buttoned shirt, and when he stopped before him, instead of standing there as William had expected, Noah smoothly straddled his lap, his arms winding around William’s frozen shoulders. “Hey there, gorgeous.”

William couldn’t have said a coherent sentence even if he wanted to. Noah leaned in and kissed him. It was a kiss unlike any other they had shared, slow, possessive, and unhurried, with Noah’s hand coming up to rest on William’s throat while the other slid slowly, maddeningly, down his chest. It sent his heart hammering, and his temperature skyrocketed. He was hot, too hot, and he only felt hotter when Noah rocked his hips against his gently, drawing a ragged groan from deep in his chest that broke their kiss. “Fuck, Noah…”

“I love it when you say my name.” Noah whispered to him, keeping up the gentle rocking of his hips. He was flushed, and the colour suited him well, making his pale eyes stark by comparison. William’s hands, acting on instinct, ran over his back and hips, mapping out the smooth contours of his body beneath the thin material of the shirt he wore. Noah closed his eyes briefly, seeming to revel in the feeling. “I love it when you touch me.”

“Keep talking.” William urged, his own voice sounding faraway and distant and he kissed Noah again, drowning in the feel of his boyfriend’s hips moving against his own, the way he kissed, the hungry movements of his hands as they slid beneath his shirt, tracing the hard planes of his chest and stomach. When one of his hands dropped lower however, William felt the heat inside of him reach its crescendo and crashed over him. He was on his feet, urging Noah’s legs around his hips. They were moving, and William don’t know how he got there, especially with Noah kissing him the way he was, but soon they were on his bed, Noah’s legs still around his hips, and the goddamn shirt still on.

Sitting back, the sight of Noah lying there, flushed and breathless was enough to make him bite his lip so roughly he was in danger of drawing blood. He was burning, and he was hard, and he grabbed the shirt that Noah still wore and ripped it in one fluid motion, sending the buttons scattering across the bedspread.

“Fuck, that’s so fucking hot.” Noah moaned, sitting up and throwing the now ruined shirt aside, then grabbed the hem of William’s t-shirt and urged it up over his head, his actions rushed and desperate. As soon as it too had been thrown aside, his shaking hands were unbuckling William’s belt. As he worked, William leaned in, kissing his ear, his neck, his jaw, eager for more and more, encouraged by Noah’s groans, his whispered encouragements…and when Noah slipped his hand into the front of his jeans and grabbed a hold of him, he latched onto Noah’s neck to stifle his cry. He let Noah pump his hands a few times before grabbing his wrist and stilling his hand. When he spoke his voice was deep, rough, and made Noah shiver delightedly. “That’s enough.”

Only stepping away briefly to rid himself of his jeans and underwear, when William re-joined Noah on the bed he immediately resumed his attention to his jaw and neck, taking the time to mark his collarbones before Noah grew impatient and tugged on his hair, drawing him into a kiss that made their teeth click in its haste to bring them closer, deeper.

“Noah,” William gasped against his lips, not thinking about the words as they fell from his lips, and said with the fervour of a man at prayer. “I love you. You, you, only ever you.”

Noah just let his head fall back and he moaned. “I love you. Don’t stop.”

William kissed his flickering pulse and made his way down his neck, down his chest, his lips and teeth dragging across Noah’s pale skin, and never staying in one place for long. When his lips reached his lower stomach he traced the fine line of hair descending from his navel with his tongue, holding down Noah’s hips firmly when they bucked. “Don’t move.”

Noah whimpered but tried to stay still as William kissed a slow line of kisses along the waistband of his underwear, then pulled them down carefully, tracing his tongue along his Apollo’s belt, biting at his hipbones. By the time he took Noah in his mouth the other boy was already half-undone, a stream of expletives falling from his lips and his hands coming to grip William’s fair hair, encouraging his movements. William only allowed him to do so for a moment before he let him go with a pop and grabbed Noah’s wrists, placing them over his head and guiding them to grip the metal bedframe loosely. “Keep. Them. There.”

Against their pressed together stomachs he felt the most private of Noah respond to his low, commanding tone. “Fuck.”

“Now you know how it feels.” William murmured, and took Noah in his mouth again, basking in the passionate, lustful sounds coming from his boyfriend who clutched at the bedsheets by his side. Music.

The heavy weight was intimately familiar on his tongue, the steady rhythm now as easy to him as breathing, his jaw and throat relaxed and loose. He was so engrossed in all of the sensations that he didn’t notice Noah trying to stop him until he was forced to let go of the bedpost and caught him, voice wrecked. “Stop, gorgeous, I don’t wanna come yet.”

William kissed him. “Where’s the-”

“By the bed on the floor.” Noah cut over him, pupils blown wide. “Hurry.”

William just rumbled at the order, leaning over the bed and grabbing the bottle there, along with one of the foil packets from the waiting box. Noah took the foil from him, ripping open the packet with his teeth and grabbing William in one hand, rolling the condom on with the other. His earlier nerves kicked in at the sight, and he cut a look at Noah, eyes wide. “Noah…”

“I want you.” Noah whispered to him huskily. “I’ve already gotten ready, so I just need you now, Will. Trust me.”

Wordlessly he nodded, watching as Noah popped open the bottle and took some of the gel onto his fingers. Then, with William watching him, he slowly worked his fingers in and out of himself, eyes shut and mouth falling open on a soundless moan. William would never forget the sight. It was burned, branded in his memory, and hot and impatient he slicked the gel over himself, swallowing back his groan.

When Noah opened his eyes they were filled with an expression that made William’s stomach bottom out. “Come here, gorgeous. Kiss me.”

Obeying his orders, William kissed him lightly, sweetly, before quickly succumbing to their earlier intensity. Before he knew it he was breathless, aching, and desperate for a relief. Noah was no better and canted his hips impatiently. “Please, Will.”

“If I hurt you, we stop, ok?” William said between gritted teeth, placing a pillow beneath Noah’s hips to make him more comfortable and settling himself between his legs. “You stop me as soon as it becomes too much, ok baby?”

“Ok.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise, Will.”

Satisfied, William tried to quell his trembling nerves as he carefully pressed against Noah, watching his face intently all the while. When he only nodded, William pressed in, the first stretch shocking him and he immediately became lost in the entirely new feeling that was so hot, so tight-

He groaned from the bottom of his stomach.

“Keep going.” Noah panted, locking his legs around William and urging him closer, only taking a few moments here and there to adjust before they were joined flush. William couldn’t talk, couldn’t think past the fire pumping through his veins, certain it couldn’t possibly get any better when Noah moved his hips.

Nothing could compare.

William pulled out slightly and sank back in slow, drawing a filthy moan from Noah.

“Again.”

He repeated the action, more confidently, and his boyfriend’s answering cry was enough to eradicate any remaining doubts in his mind.

The room was filled with their sounds. Noah’s heels dug into the small of his back. William gripped his hips tight enough to leave possessive red marks and they only served to arouse him more. The sight of him moving in and out of Noah, of Noah’s begging reaching a new height when William found the spot inside of him that made him senseless, made something slowly click into place inside of William.

He loved Noah. He loved him so wholly that the thought of a life without him was empty. He never wanted to be apart from him, never wanted to stop doing this, never wanted to let him go. He was meant to find him.

He took Noah in his hand, feeling his own slow build-up in his stomach and back, and pumped. Noah’s nonsensical begging fell on deaf ears as the pressure spread through his legs, and sparks skittered down spine.

He wasn’t going to let him go.

There was only him.

Only ever him.

Noah came first, so hard and so fast, and with a sound so strangled it sounded almost like a sob. For William, the fire blazed inside of him, pure white, and the whole world hinged on the second his pleasure reached its peak, drawing it out and wringing him for everything he was worth. He shattered.

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pocketseizure · 6 years

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The Legend of the Princess, Chapter 28

The Legend of the Queen

In which Zelda makes a courageous decision to live happily ever after.

This is the last chapter. Thank you to everyone who’s followed this story – I could never have written it without your kindness and support!

This chapter has an illustration (link) by the brilliant @lightsintheskye!

(Chapter 28 on AO3) (Story Tag on Tumblr) (Cover Illustration)

* * * * *

Zelda stood at the window of her bedroom as the sun set over the western mountains.

She looked down at Castle Town, watching the activity in the streets as people came and went. The roads were filled with travelers, as were the canals. The city’s population had grown steadily during the past ten years. Soon there would need to be wider roads, as well as another bridge, and the walls surrounding the city would have to come down to make room for new construction. In a way, Zelda mused, the damage caused by the riots may have been a blessing in disguise. Now there was finally an excuse to redesign the city’s layout, something she had been discussing with her counselors since her earliest forays into the administration of the kingdom.

Zelda crossed her arms over her chest. She was already laying out a timeline in her head as she assembled a list of priorities. It was good to have a moment to herself to do nothing but think in silence. She was usually forced to occupy herself with her clothing as soon as she returned to her private quarters, either to change into something formal for court or to extract herself from one of the gowns she felt obliged to wear, but at the moment she was comfortable as she was. After returning to the castle from the Temple of Time, she’d ordered that one of her riding outfits be tailored into a military uniform. She was pleased with the results. She looked good in pants and a jacket; it suited her. A princess carefully reviewed petitions and made subtle suggestions, but a queen commanded armies.

Zelda looked past the city and out to the hazy line of the far mountains that marked the border of Gerudo territory, remembering what Tetra had told her about the division of political power. “Delegate,” Tetra said, and that was exactly what Zelda intended to do.

At dawn she had stood on the balcony overlooking the front courtyard and delivered a speech to everyone in the castle, soldiers and invaders and guests and courtiers alike. She pardoned everyone who had participated in the riots and promised to use the royal family’s own funds to rebuild what had been damaged, but then she surprised everyone by proposing an equal council of territories. The monarchy had been in existence for so long that she had only the most nebulous ideas concerning how a republic would work, but she would have time to figure that out. Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to do it alone.

Zelda’s coronation ceremony was supposed to have begun an hour ago. Given the circumstances, plans had changed. Her father still hadn’t woken, so she had simply stepped in as the reigning monarch in his absence. She had thus become a queen without a grand ceremony. This was probably for the best, as resources were scare at the moment. At least the food prepared for the celebration hadn’t gone to waste.

Makar vanished back into the forest, and Darunia stayed with the king, but Ruto and Nabooru had remained at her side throughout the day. Impa had as well, for which Zelda was grateful. Link convinced Barghest to stand with her as she addressed the people who had invaded her city, and he was surprisingly civil as he accommodated her request. Zelda had to take care to treat him not as the former stablemaster but as the leader of a small army, but it was easier than she expected. She had been trained for such things, after all, and he cut an imposing figure.

She sent Ganondorf to negotiate with the Moblins and Lizalfos who had set up camp in the training grounds, asking him to convey her goodwill to them. It was convenient that Ganondorf could speak their language, and it was even more useful that they were willing to listen to him. As far as she could tell, no one in the camp said a word about Ganon, but she would have to monitor the situation. The irony of the faith she placed in Ganondorf not to take advantage of his position was not lost on her. She had made the decision to trust him when she allowed him to claim a piece of the Triforce, however, and she saw no reason to regret her judgment.

Zelda raised her hand to look at the golden triangle on her skin. She reflected on what Tetra said about how the Triforce had split before the flood. It was curious that she, the ostensible reincarnation of the avatar of divine wisdom, had ended up with the Triforce of Courage. Link had been granted the Triforce of Power, while the Triforce of Wisdom went to Ganondorf. This was a surprise to them all. She wondered if the Triforce had somehow chosen its bearers, or whether they chose for themselves, unconsciously asking for what they had wanted all along.

Perhaps one day she would have time to think back on all of this, but it was currently of utmost importance that she take action. Most of the visiting dignitaries would leave the castle soon, probably within the week, and Zelda was looking forward to setting out from the castle herself. Even if she hadn’t been properly crowned, it was the duty of a new queen to tour her kingdom. Or rather, if the talks during the next few days went well, it would be her duty as the provisional leader of Hyrule to make diplomatic visits to the various territories of the republic. Daphnes would stay here and recover, and she would have space to think about how to rebuild their relationship during her journey. He was her father, and she loved him, but she would never be able to forget what she had seen him do, all the while claiming that his actions were to save her.

Considering what had happened to her mother, Zelda was anxious about traveling to the desert. Still, she knew it would be politically exigent if that were the first place she visited. If nothing else, it would be an interesting experience to be a guest in Ganondorf’s court. It amused her to imagine him doing his best to be appropriately courteous and polite to her in public.

There was a knock at the door. Zelda was annoyed, thinking that it was still too early for anyone to come fetch her for the evening assembly, especially since she had specifically asked not to be disturbed. “Come in,” she said brusquely, making her irritation clear in her tone. As a princess, she had taken special care to be gracious and kind, but she was beyond such niceties now.

She waited for the door to open, but she couldn’t hear anything behind her. A moment later she realized how odd it was for someone to have knocked on the door to her bedroom instead of the main door to her quarters. Whoever was at the door had already passed through the rooms below without alerting her. Zelda was immediately on guard. She slowly withdrew a short blade from the inside of her sleeve and turned swiftly while flipping the knife into her hand.

She came face to face with Ganondorf. Her blade was almost touching his throat.

“Good evening to you too,” he said in a flat voice.

“My apologies.” Zelda withdrew the knife and placed it on her dressing table. “I thought perhaps you’d come to kill me.”

“That would be somewhat anticlimactic.”

“Perhaps it would, but it would also be more efficient to murder me in private.”

“Is that what you say to every man you invite into your bedroom?”

“I don’t recall inviting you,” Zelda replied. “Speaking of which, why are you here? I seem to remember asking for a report on the negotiations with Barghest, but surely that can wait.”

“I came because of a more pressing matter,” Ganondorf said, withdrawing a lacquer box from an inner pocket of his robes. He smiled as he offered it to her. “Happy birthday.”

Zelda was taken aback. It was indeed her twentieth birthday, but no one had mentioned it at any point during the day. This was understandable, Zelda reasoned, given the current state of the castle. In fact, she had almost forgotten it herself.

Since she didn’t move to take the box from him, Ganondorf placed it in her hands before lifting the lid to reveal two golden hairpins. They gleamed softly in the light of the setting sun.

“These belonged to my mother,” Ganondorf explained. “They were given to me on my own twentieth birthday, but I had no use for them. I used to wear my hair long like all Gerudo men, but that was the day I decided to break with tradition and cut it short. This is something of a secret, but I happen to know that these hairpins were originally given to my mother by your own. I thought you might like to have them. As a memento, of sorts. Of our mothers, and the friendship they allowed us to enjoy when we were younger.”

“They’re beautiful,” Zelda said, genuinely touched.

“Would you like to wear them?” Ganondorf asked.

Zelda nodded, closing the box and holding it to her chest as Ganondorf moved behind her. He carefully inserted the pins into the bun she wore, using them to tie the ends of her sidelocks back so that they framed her face like wings. He turned her toward her mirror and stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.

“They look good on you,” he said. “They bring out the gold in your hair.”

Zelda met Ganondorf’s eyes in the mirror, assessing him. He seemed content and comfortable in her presence. She suspected that they wouldn’t have the opportunity to be alone together like this often, and she didn’t want to enter into the same sort of painful relationship that their mothers had struggled with for so many years. I need to break this off now, she resolved.

“I’ll accept this as a gift of friendship from the King of the Gerudo,” she said with a thin smile. “It will help me to remember you fondly once you’re back in your own city.”

“About that…” As Ganondorf’s words to trail off, he pressed his thumbs into the stiff muscles between her shoulder blades and began to massage her back. Zelda wanted to tell him to stop, but she had been on her feet all day, and what he was doing with his fingers felt wonderful.

“I’ve been thinking about your decision to initiate a republic, and I’ve made my own decision to abdicate the throne. To tell the truth, it’s something I’ve been considering for some time now. If I hadn’t been born, the position would have gone to Nabooru, and she knows this as well as anyone. I’ve discussed it with her, and I believe she’s amenable to the idea. I’d like to remain in Hyrule as an ambassador.”

“It’s been some time since we had a formal ambassador from the Gerudo,” Zelda said cautiously.

“It’s been some time since you had a formal ambassador from the Rito as well, and it goes without saying that you’ll want to maintain a good relationship with the Darknuts and Moblins. I could help facilitate that.”

“I suppose you could,” Zelda agreed. “How generous of you.”

Feeling self-conscious, Zelda walked to the window and looked out over the mountains, not wanting Ganondorf to see her blush.

“But I should tell you that I have a selfish reason for wanting to stay,” Ganondorf continued as he followed her. “I’ve always loved Hyrule, ever since I first came to your castle with my mother. I’d like to spend more time here, if you’ll have me.”

Zelda thought of the flowers he kept in his rooms, and her mind wandered to the terrible old man in his garden under the Great Sea. By this point she knew Ganondorf well enough to know that he did nothing without reason, but she also knew he was telling the truth about his affection for Hyrule. Perhaps it would fade, in time; perhaps he might one day grow nostalgic for his homeland and long to return. But he was here now, telling her that he wanted to stay with her.

She turned to face him. That would be nice, she wanted to say, or something equally inane, but instead of speaking she reached for him, and then his lips were on hers, hot and demanding. She opened herself to him, and he cupped the back of her neck to pull her closer. She tasted him in her mouth, the sweetness of his breath and the spice of his tongue.

A part of her expected to hear Tetra’s voice in her mind, chastising her for allowing Ganondorf to take advantage of her. Was he really giving up power by abdicating, or did he still have an ulterior motive for wanting to remain in Hyrule? Was this part of a larger game he was playing?

If this man is a threat, Zelda thought, breaking the kiss, then I welcome the challenge. But she was done doubting Ganondorf’s intentions, and she was finished with maintaining her silence.

“I’m going to have to tell you something,” she said.

“Good,” he replied, meeting her eyes. “I want you to tell me everything from now on.”

“You seem to think that Ganon is a cycle, or somehow related to the seal held in place by the Master Sword, but I agree with my father, and I agree with our mothers. I think Ganon is real. I’m worried that you will become Ganon, eventually. As long as you stay in Hyrule, I’m afraid that’s always going to be a danger.”

“None of this changes who I am,” Ganondorf assured her as he kissed her forehead. “I will always be on the side of the men who opposed Hyrule. I’m still angry about what happened to my mother, and I’m still angry that your monarchy has lasted for as long as it has. I will always be angry, and my anger will always be dangerous to you. But would you really want me to be gentle?”

“It would make me happy if you could be yourself,” she answered, relaxing into the strength of his arms.

“You want me to be myself? After everything you’ve seen?”

I’ve seen more than you can possibly imagine, Zelda wanted to tell him. She thought of the man who had cut down each of the leaders of the tribes of Hyrule as gracefully as he had once danced with her in the Great Hall, even as he told her that Hyrule would burn, and she thought of the man with a lined face and stooped shoulders who tended flowers in his garden in the underwater courtyard outside a forgotten library. In the Temple of Time Zelda had realized that Ganondorf loved fighting, that it satisfied a physical craving within him. Or perhaps he needed a form for the violence that raged within him. Zelda had seen Hyrule as Ganondorf must have seen it, passing through one life after another, staggering through a fantastic landscape of disaster and pain, floating under overbright moonlight on the waves of his own darkness.

“I will take control of your violence and exhaust it,” she promised him, meeting his eyes. “I will take you to the end of the world and see that you arrive safely.”

Ganondorf murmured her name and kissed her. He was fervent and urgent as he pressed himself against her, exploring and revealing her, consuming her with his hands and mouth even as he stiffened at her waist, earnest and sincere in his desire. The joining of their bodies was perfect, and they fit together as if they had been made for one another. If it was their fate that their union would only lead to disaster, then so be it. We abandon kingdoms because we want more than kingdoms, Zelda thought, and in his arms she knew it was true.

“You saw something I didn’t,” Ganondorf said as he held her. Zelda nodded, her head against his chest. She waited for him to continue, but he was silent. It occurred to her that, for all the questions she had asked Ganondorf, he never once asked her to explain her own actions. He was never one to ask questions, and she understood now that he was simply waiting for her to reveal herself on her own terms.

“You want to know why I destroyed the baton my father was holding?”

“You said something about seeing Hyrule flood.”

“I did,” Zelda confirmed.

“You said you saw me as well.”

“I did. You were… older. And unhappy. It wasn’t a good future. For you, or for anyone.”

“Did I become Ganon?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Was I still as handsome as I am now?”

“Of course,” she lied.

“If I didn’t see the vision, then it must have been real. You managed to move through time.”

“I’m not sure if that’s exactly what happened, but it felt close enough.”

“That should be impossible.”

“As impossible as the way you move through space?”

“The consequences of moving through space are minimal. You changed the entire reality of our world.”

“Yes, and you should thank me.”

“Would you do it again?”

“I’d prefer not to.”

“You destroyed the artifact the king was holding. What will you do with the ocarina?”

Ganondorf’s body was still warm and pliant against her own, but his voice had become dangerously quiet and still. A part of her had been afraid of him all this time, and with good reason, but she was beginning to realize that he had been afraid of her as well. And with good reason. Still, she was hurt that he couldn’t yet bring himself to trust her.

“I tried to destroy the ocarina earlier,” she admitted, offering the truth without prevarication. “I used the same silver arrows, but they had no effect. That magic only came to me in the presence of the Triforce and the Master Sword, so it may not always work. I think it might be possible that no one person can destroy the ocarina. But…” She paused to collect her thoughts as she tried to remember the shape of Tetra’s pendant. “I think there may be a way to split it into pieces. We should probably ask Link for help.”

Ganondorf’s body tensed, and she pulled away from him. “What?” she asked. “Isn’t that what you want?”

“I don’t like it that you had a child with Link.”

Despite herself, Zelda couldn’t help laughing. “I saw the end of Hyrule, with you trapped in an underwater castle for who even knows how many years, and that’s what you’re upset about?”

“Are you still opposed to having children?”

Oh my, Zelda thought. What a thing for him to ask. “You’re getting ahead of yourself,” she said, still smiling. “I haven’t agreed to allow you to remain in Hyrule.”

“How bold of you to assume that it would be my children you’d be having.”

“I’ve found that I’ve become bolder since I received the Triforce of Courage. Do you feel any wiser?”

“Wiser? No. Although perhaps a bit more… imaginative.”

Ganondorf grinned and tilted Zelda’s chin up to meet his mouth. She welcomed his kiss, and her hands roamed over his robes as she traced the contours the body hiding underneath. Imaginative, indeed. She didn’t mind admitting that she’d been imagining a few things herself.

A faint sound caught Zelda’s attention, and both she and Ganondorf turned toward its source. Someone was knocking at the door to the sitting room downstairs.

“Your Majesty?” a muffled voice called out. “We’ve come to help you prepare for the evening.”

“I should leave,” Ganondorf said, starting to pull away, but Zelda gripped the fabric of his sleeves.

“Stay,” she insisted. “I have no desire for it to be a secret that I allow you to visit me here. I’m a queen now. I can do whatever I want.”

“Is that so,” Ganondorf muttered, his grin widening. “Then what do you want, Your Majesty?”

Zelda gave herself a moment to envision a future in which none of this had happened. Hyrule hadn’t flooded, the Triforce hadn’t been split, and she hadn’t shot the king. She had never seen Link with the Master Sword in his hand, and she had never confronted Ganondorf. She imagined a world in which she had never been visited by nightmares of a raging beast crashing over the kingdom, and her coronation ceremony had proceeded as planned, with the future stretching in a straight line in front of her as far as she could see. But everything had changed, and she no longer knew what to expect.

“I’m not entirely certain at the moment,” Zelda admitted. “For the time being, I want you to redo my hair. I want to show off those hairpins you gave me. Do you think you can handle that?”

“With pleasure,” Ganondorf said, tucking one of her sidelocks behind her ear.

“I also want you to go downstairs and dismiss my staff, if you wouldn’t mind. Please tell them that I won’t be wearing a gown this evening.”

“Is there any reason you can’t tell them that yourself?”

“No, there’s no reason at all, except that I want it spread around the entire castle that I’ve had a private audience with you. In my bedroom. I want them to think I’m currently too preoccupied to meet them.”

“Too undressed to meet them, you mean.” Ganondorf narrowed his eyes. “What are you planning?”

“I’m getting get the gossip out of the way before it becomes a problem.”

“I question the wisdom of sending up smoke where there’s no fire.”

“Who said there’s no fire? The evening isn’t over yet.”

“Is that an invitation?”

Zelda looked into his eyes and smiled, happy that she was finally able to speak exactly as she wished. “Yes,” she said. “It’s an invitation.”

“I’ll consider it.”

“Then I’ll consider it accepted.”

Ganondorf gazed at her a moment longer before heading downstairs. He opened the door this time, rather more loudly than was necessary.

Zelda let out the breath she had been holding and walked to the basin placed next to her dressing table. She splashed her face with water and then regarded herself in the mirror as she patted her skin dry. All things considered, she didn’t look half bad. She would look even better once Ganondorf plaited her hair. Her mother once wore her hair in a style that she’d claimed had been inspired by the Gerudo queen, and Zelda was certain Ganondorf would know how to recreate it. She imagined his fingers in her hair and shivered with pleasure.

“May the goddess grant me wisdom,” she said to herself, blushing at the thought.

Zelda brushed a spot of dust from her trousers and straightened the sleeves of her jacket as she waited for Ganondorf to return. She may be the descendant of a goddess, but she wouldn’t let that stop her from becoming the master of her own fate.

She selected one of the rapiers mounted on a stand beside her bed and belted its scabbard across her hips. The weight of the metal felt good on her thigh. Zelda was only a novice swordswoman, but there would be plenty of opportunities for her to develop her skill once she left the castle. Perhaps Ganondorf could teach her a thing or two – and Link could as well, if he chose to accompany them.

Zelda raised her hand and watched as the golden triangle revealed itself, shining in the sunset. This would be her first night presiding over her court without her father, but Impa and Nabooru and Ruto were waiting for her, and Link and Ganondorf were to be her escorts. Zelda was filled with anticipation. She tightened the straps holding the sword at her waist and prepared to meet her destiny as the newest leader of Hyrule.

#Princess Zelda #Ganondorf #Zelgan #The Legend of the Princess #Zelda fic #my fic

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