claiestve
claiestve
ily.
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HEY I HOPE YOURE DOING GREAT !!! I have an idea so … this scenario is like a week before they became a couple (audio 9) and they had a day off since listener finished a case and they decided to take a day off. As listener got ready for sleep they got a little sad and basically went to sleep crying, Isaac still saw light coming from the room and since it was late he decided to check up on them. He walks in and as he was about to turn of the light he sees the tears and puffy cheeks from sleeping listener THEN ISAAC GETS SOFT AND WORRIED SLOWLY TOUCHING THEIR FACW AAAAAAA
𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ꨄ Isaac
˜”* ❝𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙢 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙛 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚.❞
⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʜᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴏᴋᴀʏ.
⎯୨⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯
It’s been so hard to get used to this type of life. Yeah, it’s been some time but damn, this shit is hard. You felt like you didn’t belong here no matter how much closer you and Isaac got, it just felt like you were out of place. And what about when you left? It didn’t feel like he wanted you to stay even if you wished he would. It was getting difficult for you to hide your feelings for him.
There was nothing left to do anymore. You finished any piece of work that came your way and now, you were left by yourself in your own company. It was peaceful but it felt overly lonely. That’s what you’ve been feeling lately, lonely. It was hard for you not to get all in your head when you were alone like this, especially at this time. Isaac was busy and there was nothing to distract you.
Why did this have to happen? You didn’t need a savior if things just went differently. It just felt like you were a burden on Isaac and you did not want to feel like that. Your eyes tear up at that. The thought that you were a burden on the only person you had, someone you really fucking like too.
Now, you’re sitting here bawling. It seemed so silly, like something you’d do if you were still a kid. Just crying about nonsense. But, it was your head getting to you. You were just glad Isaac didn’t see you like this. It would’ve been mildly embarrassing and you didn’t want to deal with that at all. You weren’t even sure if he was up at this time. You decided to go to bed as it was late and crying wasn’t going to fix anything, no matter how much you needed to.
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
“Y/N?”
Your door cracks and eventually glides open revealing a sleepy Isaac. He came in to check on you since you left your lamp on. He already knew you were asleep but something inclined him to just get closer and check.
“You awake?”
A hand glided across your face with gentle intent. It was a sweet, soft touch almost like a caress. His hand met and caught a tear from your closed eyes. “You’ve been crying… why…”
He focuses on your puffy red face. He wasn’t used to seeing this, not from you at least. All of a sudden, you feel the bed move a bit. When you lifted your head, there he was, draped on the bed next to you.
“Isaac, why are you in here?”
“The light was on and um, I was worried.”
“Aw, thank you for worrying but there’s nothing to worry about.”
You roll over, looking away from him. You knew he saw your face but you didn’t want to draw any more attention to it. You’d rather hide under a thousand heavy covers than let him see your face like this. It was embarrassing and you’ve already embarrassed yourself enough in front of him.
“Please look at me.” He says in a desperate tone. It was on the verge of an eager request with a slight whimper.
With that voice, damn, you wanted to. You wanted to do anything he asked if he asked in that tone.
“Why?”
“I want to look at you when I talk to you.”
You sigh and turn around seeing his face. His expression is full of concern and sympathy. It wasn’t a pitiful expression, no, it was so much kinder than that. Somehow, it was comforting.
“Y/N, why were you crying?”
“There’s just a lot going on in my head right now, don’t worry, Isaac.”
“Are– are you sure? I mean, I can sit here and listen to you talk about it if you want.”
That was sweet of him but you didn’t want him losing sleep. Not for something like this anyway.
“It’s okay. Go to sleep, Isaac.”
“Fine,” He stood up, “Goodnight, Y/N.”
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
i miss isaac so bad now i know how the andrew fans felt UGHSAHG
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kayson my babygirl <33
he would be so hot as a coach, just sayin.
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hehehehehhe
Across
Niall & Reader
Warnings: passive suicide attempt
You walk briskly, hurrying to make it home before the downpour. Out of your periphery, you see a hunched figure creeping toward the road, ignorant of the red light.
Your heart leaps, adrenaline allowing you to dash forward and pull them back just as a car speeds past, honking angrily. They freeze, and you choke on your expression of concern.
The librarian, who had given you the books in your bag not an hour ago, stares at you with red-rimmed eyes.
“Niall?” you gape, a shiver running down your spine. You let go of his arm. “Watch out next time.”
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YAYAYYYAYAYYAYAYYAYYAYAYAYY
Kayson ──★ ˙ ̟!!
R U Mine? ★!!
“She's a silver linin', lone ranger ridin' through an open space”
I LOVE HOW THIS TURNED OUT PLZ LIKE IT
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oh that's....
Helloooo
Okay so I need some ideas, how would Dontis react if Xanthus was a traitor in some form (like working for the trimidian) or how would Xanthus and Dontis react to love if THEY were a traitor? (Can you tell that I’m obsessed with traitor AU’s)
AUs in particular are rather hard to imagine because it's not in their character to do that. Xanthus would never work for the Trimedian so I don't know.
If Love did then Xanthus would just kill them.
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sneakity peakity 2 motivate me more
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sighh ..
Asirel Cain
Blood Sport - Sleep Token
“i made loving you a blood sport, i can’t win
so let’s play”
IM SO DOWN BAD FOR THIS MAN ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY
IDC IDC IDC WHAT HES DONE HES MY BABYGIRL
HEY!! this design is clearly different from his canon design (mostly because its from a reference) cus i’m not quite fond of it 😔😔😔 i’d still smash tho
here’s the speedpaint!!
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i pray that any pain elias has is given to asirel 🙏
#zsakuva#asmr#sakuverse#elias#asirel cain#i am his number one hater#asirel i will hunt u down#elias hmu
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oh so he GETS it.
And odd question but,
How old were Isaac and Elias when they loss thier v-card? Also,
Which characters would have the highest body count?
Have a good day ^^
They were probably both around 18, though I'd expect Elias would lose it sooner.
Excluding mythics, Zaros.
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:(
Iron on my Tongue
Isaac x Reader
Isaac has a bad feeling about your meeting. (Isaac's POV)
Warnings: anxiety, description of blood, death of character
@chilliesillie and @kieran-rhoades created a vivid image in my mind of this scene so here it is written for you my loves<3
I hope I was able to capture this the way you imagined!
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
It’s a dim afternoon, grey clouds are settled in the sky with a promise of rain later and the wind is chilly. My partner isn't with me right now, maybe if they were I would be enjoying the weather more. I hope they make it back home before the shower.
They're out on their own business, a meeting with a client I introduced them to. As much as I'd like to pride myself in my improvements thus far, I still can't quite let them leave the house to meet someone completely unknown to me. Whatever client I hand over to them are well researched and kept on tab to ensure their meeting environment is a safe one and they’ll be able to get back home to me.
I still have my doubts regardless, but I can't control their every move. They deserve to live. It’s funny because they tell me the same thing, "Isaac you deserve to live, without the worry and torment."
I don't think I'd ever be who I am today without them. The day I met them all those months ago, I'd never believed it if someone told me we'd not only be partners in my field of work, but also lovers. They're the one thing that means the most to me and I absolutely cannot let them get hurt. I trust them, and I know they'll do their best to stay safe but the underlying worry still bothers me.
There's this unusual feeling in my chest, the kind I haven’t experience in a while and worst of all, I'm not sure why it's there. It's bearable, but it's not. A distant but static feeling that hazes over my body and clouds my senses.
I take a sip of my coffee and its burns my tongue. It's hot, way too hot.
"Fuck" I pinch the space between my eyebrows and sigh.
My luck hasn't been the best today, but maybe a shower would wash away whatever this is and I can finally settle down. I push the cup aside and head for the bathroom, peeling the clothes from my body.
I let the water slide off my skin, the only thing on my mind is them. I could chalk this feeling up to just my anxiety, but this is more. This is an additional weight that presses against my chest and squeezes at my heart. An extra burden to carry on my shoulders, one I'm unfamiliar with yet I distantly relate to. Some sort of gut feeling that’s pointed in some unknown direction. I could easily pick up my phone and call them but their voice rings in my head.
"Here's the deal Isaac, no calls from you this time. We have to work something out little by little until you're comfortable with me leaving the house. Instead of you calling me, I'll call you before and after my meeting. Deal?"
I agreed to it of course. I want to be better. For them I want to be better, so each time I think of calling, I turn my phone screen down. I know their meeting started at 3pm and lasts about two hours, so I'm expecting a call at 5.
I step out the shower, tying my robe at the side. The first thing I do is glace at the clock.
4:55
I should be receiving that call soon, and since a shower did absolutely nothing to sooth my nerves, I'm hoping their voice will.
I'm back in the kitchen again, my phone sitting in front of me and I reach for the coffee I had left earlier. I take a sip and now it's too cold. What a day. I dump it down the sink without a second thought, it’s not important right now anyways.
5 o'clock rolls around and I'm impatiently bouncing my knee. There isn’t a single notification from them. 10 minutes. I'll wait 10 minutes and then I'll call. The feeling in my chests grows heavier and heavier and I'm counting down every second. I can't look away from my phone, waiting and hoping to see my screen light up.
5:07
That's basically 5:10 right? If I call now, it wouldn't make a difference. I frantically find their contact and click the small button near it. I take a deep breath, then exhale. It's okay. They'll answer and say their meeting ran a little late and scold me for not waiting a full 10 minutes like I promised. Nothing bad is going to happen. I’m able to fool neither my mind nor my heart.
It rings, and rings, and rings... then disconnects.
There’s no answer. My heart rate picks up and I call again.
Same as before, it rings but no answer.
I attempt to call again, but the phone slips from my grasp. I hadn't noticed it before but my palms are clammy and covered in sweat, cold sweat. I drag them against my robe and quickly snatch the phone off the floor, skipping a call entirely to find their location.
The little icon is not at their meeting location, it’s not at the coffee shop they enjoy visiting, its nowhere close to home. Instead it stays stagnant at a foreign location, a maze-like pathway between a block of buildings.
I’m unsure about almost everything at the moment, but one thing I know for certain is that I need to find them. I leave my house right away. I call until their voicemail is engraved into my skull. I send text after text, but there’s still no response. I check their location again but the only icon that moves is my own as I get closer to my destination.
The rest of the way I need to continue on foot. I have a gun tucked into the waist of my pants and I don’t know what awaits me, or if I’ll even be able to fight it but if I don’t find them I might go completely insane. My stomach turns at the scent, and sight before me. It’s a dirty alleyway, much dirtier than the one I found them in. It makes me sick. The unease in my body casts over me like a giant shadow and it’s starting to make sense. It feels like a rat in my stomach trying to claw its way through my mouth. I hate it. I hate it so much.
I find their phone, their bag and random sheets on paper scattered through path. They’re covered in muddy footprints and soaked in murky water. Something bad happened, that much I knew, but there’s 3, 4, 5 maybe 6 pairs of footprints here. They were outnumbered.
“Name!” I yell. “Where are you?”
I run further and further down but there’s no sign of them. My heart is pounding against my chest and I’m so so scared. I’m looking everywhere but there’s no one here. I grip onto my hair in frustration. Where are they? Did those people take them away? Who were they? There’re hundreds of people who’d want to hurt me but specifically WHO?
“I-Isaac…?” a weak voice calls behind me.
I’m overcome with relief when I hear them, but the state I see them in as I turn around fills me with worry and rage.
They’re holding onto the mouldy walls, sliding down to the ground when they couldn’t support themselves anymore. Their body and clothes are covered in mud and dirt, ripped and bruised. I rush over to them, supporting their weight against my own body.
I’m worried, so worried but I’m relieved they’re still here. I’m relieved they’re still alive.
“God, Pickle” I place a hand against their back, its warm and wet, and they wince in pain at the pressure. “Where are you hurt? Who did this to you?”
“Isaac,” they smile up at me, a hand reaching for my face. “You came. I knew you’d come.”
I hold their hand against my cheek. “Of course, my love. I’ll always find you I promised to protect you always.”
“My knight.” Their voice comes out faint and dull.
“Yours, always yours.” I lean down to kiss them, gently on their lips. It was supposed to be a simple kiss, more as reassurance to my self than them but I taste iron against my tongue, metallic and salty. I pull away abruptly and their body bends forwards choking on coughs as the red liquid spills from their lips. Blood.
It's on the concrete, my pants and my hands? The hand I had against their back… It's covered in blood?
Their jacket wasn’t soaked with water? The warmth I felt wasn’t from their body? It was their blood.
“Isaac.” Their hand is on my face again, pulling me from my thoughts. “You’re *cough* spacing out my darling.”
I don’t bother responding, pulling their jacket off their shoulder. Red, it's all red. Their shirt is soaked through and through with blood and ripped in multiple areas. Stabs, fuck they were stabbed.
“No no no!” I panic. “I need to do something, I need to get you out of here!”
“Isaac please, I can barely move. Its’s *cough* gonna be okay, just please stay here with me.”
“How could I let this happen to you? Why not me instead?” I feel tears roll down my cheek and I’m terrified.
“It’s not your ugh fault Isaac. Please, for my sake, don’t blame yourself.” Their voice continues to weaken. I feel stupid for honouring their request of just staying here, but some part of me knows that there’s nothing I can do now.
“Isaac, I love you”
“Yes, I know my love. I love you too, I love you more than anything.” I feel like a child again, crying my eyes out. I should be the one comforting them, but my voice is filled with fear and my breathing is unsteady.
“Thank you… for all you’ve done for me.” Their voice fades in and out. “Please don’t ever forget me”
Their hand falls from my face but I catch it pressing it back onto my skin. “No, you have to keep your eyes open! Please! Keep your eyes open name! Don’t let go of me!”
“I’m… sorry Isaac. I don’t think I can.” They barely whisper, their eyes struggling to stay open.
“No please, not now! I’ve only just gotten you, you- you can’t leave me yet.” I held them close, sobbing into their hair.
We never made it home before the downpour. I stayed there with them to the very end. I held them in the freezing cold until their breaths slowed. I held them until the warmth drained from their body and they also grew cold. I stayed there until left me for good.
I held my composure, for their sake, wrapping them in my jacket and took them home. I washed their body until they were completely clean before tucking them into bed. One last time, they were by my side. Tomorrow they’d be resting in my garden resting among the flowers, and my mother would finally meet the love of my life. I hope she’d be proud of me, I hope they’d reflect fondly of me.
I hope they’d forgive me for the things I must do in the future.
I hope they’ll shield their eyes and stay blind to the things I will do. Every last breath of mine will be used to avenge them. I will find those who are responsible for this, and I’ll make sure they regret it.
I couldn’t protect as a knight, so I will destroy everything as a shadow.
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Hi Saku! Quick question, how would Elias react to Barista hugging him from behind (by the waist) while he is cooking for them?
Oh he'd love it. He'd also force them to move with him around the kitchen so they waddle~
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Hello saku! Hope you had a good day! I'm curious,
1. Since it was implied Pickle was attractive, would Isaac do something if they gained his client's attention during a meeting?
2. Was Pickle willingly abandoned or their parents just died? And did they grow up in a loving family? Got kinda confused on their backstory
3. How would Isaac feel if Pickle occassionally gave him surprise kisses if ever he gets out of his office to get something?
It depends on what the attention was. If it was simple staring, he wouldn't say anything about it. But if the attention became physical, then he'd absolutely intervene.
Their backstory isn't explicitly defined to give me some leg room.
He'd be a little tsundere about it: swatting them away but with no power at all.
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somebody get on this rn i’m not playin.
desperately need a fic of Pickle getting hurt outside and Isaac finding them again cus they didn’t answer his calls and he got worried and UGHHHHHH LIKE ITS A REPEAT OF THE FIRST EPISODE BUT THIS TIME HE IS TERRIFIED
(this was inspired by an ask that saku answered)
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luca :
“no one is available to take your call. please leave a message after the tone”
andrew :
“this is for rachel, you big, fat, white, nasty, smelling fat bitch why you took me off the motherfuckin' schedule with your trifflin' dirty, white, racist ass, big fat bitch oompa loompa body ass bitch”
thank u for coming to my presentation
#zsakuva#asmr#sakuverse#andrew marston#luca#angst#is it giving sad angst sad aw oh no#is this a knee slapper
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this to distract from the luca slander i’ve seen
morning kisses for mocha <3
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the rant hit close 2 home n this so cute
Tangled in Love
Andrew x Reader
Okay before you continue this, I wanted to let you know this fic mentions description of hair texture. The reader has wavy/curly hair! Additionally, this fic is a rewrite of part 6 of Andrew’s story.
+a lil rant before the actual fic (you can skip the first part but please read the second)
I wasn't going to post this because it's a self-indulgent piece but hey I’m sure someone out there will enjoy it too. I've struggled with my hair for quite a while. It was one of my biggest insecurities, and I never knew how to take care of it. For the majority of my life, I've treated my hair as though it was straight, using straight hair products and styles, because that's what I wanted my hair to be. I hated the 'frizz' which in actuality was just me damaging my curl pattern😭 Thankfully, even though I couldn't see it, the people around me did and helped me manage and properly care for my hair. These days, I embrace my curls, and I love them more than anything! If I'm not rocking my curly hair I feel incomplete, it's become a huge part of me! I still have a long way to go, but I'm beyond happy I was able to finally recognise how beautiful my hair is.
That being said, I want to remind all of you that YOU ARE PERFECT! I know we doubt and pick at ourselves from time to time, but it's important to remember THOSE DOUBTS DON'T DEFINE US! Every imperfection and flaw is what makes you perfectly, uniquely and most of all beautifully YOU. Please remember to be kind to yourself and never ever stop loving yourself ❤️
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It's been months since Andrew ended things with me. At first, I prided myself in being mature and acted like the entire thing never even happened. I stopped sitting where his eyes can easily find me, I never take similar routes as he would and avoided his office at all cost. It was easy to find a temporary tutor to help with my assessments, that way I didn't even need to attend his tutorials.
The less contact with him the better. This little routine was good and dandy, getting me by as I immersed myself completely in y work. If I distracted my mind, I wouldn't need to think of Andrew, right? Wrong.
So fucking wrong.
Every other thought, he was on my mind. I wondered how he'd answer questions on my exam preps, and his opinion on every sentence I wrote. I thought of him so much, it was sickening and before I knew it I was tired and relapsing.
I gave university my all until I couldn't anymore. I was heartbroken and ignoring my feelings only made them worst. They burdened my mind, and I spent nights upon nights crying my eyes swollen into my pillows. I knew I had to accept it somehow but the ghosts of him haunts me, even in my dreams.
Last night’s dream was an especially painful one. I vividly remember the look on his face and the way my heart shattered into a million pieces as he drove away that day. What a shit start to my day!
I rolled out of bed, heading straight for the bathroom where I splashed my face with cold water and looked into the mirror. What a mess, my hair was messy and unkept and not in and attractive, quirky way, more closely resembling a bird’s nest. I wonder if Andrew could ever love me even when I look like this.
I sigh, rubbing my temples and trying not to cry again. Maybe a nice long shower would help, so I did just that. I stayed under the running water for more than an hour, then detangled my hair before stepping out. It did help, at the very least I felt clean and refreshed.
Today was going to be more or less going to be simple, there was a single task posted on Moodle and that’s all I needed to get done.
I settled into a comfy set of clothes and started drying my hair, only to be interrupted by a knock on my door. Who could that be? I threw the towel over a chair and opened the door, and my eyes are met with the last person I wanted to see.
“Hi, I’m here to speak to you” His mouth is agape and he looks a bit shocked.
Speak to me? Here to speak to me? My mind roared. Absolutely not. I was about to slam the door in his face, but he steps forward.
“Only as a professor!” He clarifies. “May I please come in?”
“Fine, but make it quick.” I demanded.
He sighs, “Thank you.”
He steps inside and I lock the door behind him. A waft of his scent hitting my nose, God how I missed that.
“I've emailed you several times about booking a tutorial, whether that be online or in person, and I haven't heard anything back. Me being here is a last resort. It's part of my job to make my students are well, and that if they're struggling, I can point them in the right direction.” He paused, finally taking his eyes off me to look around. “You have a nice place. It's what I imagined it would look like.”
“That’s not why you’re here And- Mr. Marston.”
“Yes, strictly business it is then, though, I don't want to treat it as such.” His eyes are on me again, but I refuse to give him the same attention choosing to fidget with my fingers instead. “I'll try and keep things brief for the both of us. You've been attending as usual, on top of your work as usual and nothing on the surface warrants concern, but because this is around the time where I need to be updated on essay plans and what you intend to do, us talking to one another is inevitable and for your records, and my peace of mind, we must.”
“It’s going good.” I replied, monotoned.
“It’s going good? Is that’s all I get?” He pushes.
“It’s an update, is it not?”
“It's a different response. In the past when we had our tutorials, that went on for at least an hour, you were so passionate about your subject, you made your own reading list and clearly planned out your arguments. You talked me through every point and asked for my opinion just to be sure you couldn't look at it from any other angle because you were adamant about not just getting it right but understanding different perspectives. Tutorials are only supposed to last around half an hour. Why do you think I always put you in the last slot? The look you have when you lose yourself to your ideas, when your eyes spark with this clarity I never want to stop you mid-thought or let that light disappear.” He rants and I wish he’d stop describing me that way.
“First and foremost, I am your professor. I’m here to nurture your curiosity and always have you searching for answers so when you don't show up to your tutorials I get concerned.”
“But I attend classes and all my work is completed. Is that not enough?”
“Your work is fine but that's not the problem I-” He paused and sighs for the hundredth time, “I want to ask how you are.”
“Now you’re interested in that?”
“I never had the chance to and even if I did try to talk to you would you have answered?”
Well shit, he’s got me there. I stay quiet and stare at my feet.
“You've been avoiding me for over a month now and I completely understand why. It's enough that you're still going to classes and doing your work, and I can't imagine what you must be feeling having to be taught by me even now. For the pain I still give you, I am sorry. For the pain I gave you that day, I am sorry.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Is that why you’re here? To say sorry?”
“I didn't come here under the pretense of apologizing but… it's something I’ve been meaning to do for a while now. The rumours have died down but that doesn't change the thoughts people still have. It's not something that we should live with, but we must.” He regains his composure quickly, shifting the conversation back to university. “Anyway, care to tell me anything else about your essay? Any avenues you're thinking of exploring? Any reading material that's caught your eye?”
“What about you? Howe you Andrew?” I finally find his face with my eyes.
“I thought you wanted to keep this strictly business.” He uses my words against me. “Don't worry about me. I want you to focus on your studies.”
He smiles and it makes my heart skip a beat.
“Have you… Have you seen the petition?”
“Yes, I’ve seen it. I considered resigning and letting them win.” My eyes widen at his confession.
“Rumours can get out of hand quickly. Heh, never in my life did I think I’d be called such names. Now people think I let students get close to me to get good grades, no matter the gender. I’m a danger to all apparently.”
He sounds tired too, that’s one thing I can sympathise with him.
“The dean’s comment eased some of the backlash, but this is a burden I’ll most likely carry for the rest of my career.” He continued.
I stay quiet, unsure how to respond to him. I supposed we’ve both been hurting in our own ways.
“Can I be frank with you?” He catches my attention again and I look up from my thoughts. “I don’t regret any of it. It was one of the most honest decisions I’ve ever made. My only regret is not protecting you when it mattered and- and I’ll never be able to undo that.”
Fuck he always makes things so difficult for me.
“When I saw that video, and those comments I panicked. The first thing that came to my mind was how you’d feel reading them and how you’d continue knowing people thought of you that way. I know how that feels, something similar happened to me years ago. It hurts being ostracised and judged on lies and when you wade in that water you still have to hold your head up high, so you don’t drown. But thinking back I was irrational. I let my own fears get the better of me and made a decision that was not only mine to make. I… I should have spoken to you before driving you away. I’m not asking for your forgiveness or pity. I just need to let you know this.”
“So what now?”
“That’s a good question, I would say we continue as we are now, I only have your best interests at heart and that should be more important to me than my feelings for you.”
“You… you still have feelings for me?”
“Of course, I do! You think they just stopped? I tried burying them, stifling them, but every time you walked into my lectures it was impossible not to remember all the things we experience together.”
“Andrew look at me.” I shake my head. “I look awful, I’m a mess.”
“I disagree. You’re still as beautiful as the day I left you. If not, even more. Your hair, I- I’ve never seen it like that. It might just be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
My hair? I haven’t even straightened it like I always do. How could he find this beautiful?
“Still, you said it yourself, this could never work. Why would you-“
“I’m saying my heart wants to follow you again. Despite it all, I still want you.” He sounds so desperate, and I can feel my heart in my throat. “But this isn’t about what I want. It’s up to you. I you want nothing to do with me outside of university, so be it. If you want to give this a chance, a real chance, I’m fine with that too.”
“Andrew I-“
“You don’t need to give me an answer now, or at all actually. Just… do what you feel most comfortable with.”
That day I had a lot more to think of as I stood in front of my mirror once again. My hair was still unstraightened and a thought crossed my mind. I remember Andrew’s words before he left.
“I know I said it before, but your hair really does beautiful. I can’t quite get over it. It suits you.”
Maybe if I was going to give this another shot, it was time to start afresh. No more secrecy and sneaking around. I stare at my hair in the mirror. Maybe it did suit me and it wouldn’t hurt to try something new, would it?
-
Months later I feel so much better, the air is clearer, the sun is shining and I’m finally ready to talk to Andrew again.
I sat the window of the café I asked to meet at, looking over at the door each time the bell chimed. This time I was right, it was him. He spots me quickly and walks over.
“Hi, I know I’m a little early. May I sit?”
“Of course, please do” I urge him.
“I see you changed your hair. It looks really good.”
I run my fingers across the soft curls on my shoulder.
“Less of a change more of an embrace I’d say. I thought it was about time I stopped straightening it and wear my natural hair.”
“Not that you were any less beautiful before, but I find it harder to keep my eyes off you now.”
I smile. My cheeks are probably flushed, I can feel them all warm like the fuzzy feeling in my stomach.
“You know it’s very similar to my decision.” I tell him. “It’s another thing I want to embrace and flaunt to the world.”
“And I'll accept it no matter what it might be. So, what's your decision?”
My ass is off the chair in an instant, and I lean over the table to pull his face to mine. I missed kissing him, I missed kissing him so damn much.
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