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ikeromantic · 1 year

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The Old Switcheroo, Spicy End

Arthur and MC (Haruko) are cursed and end up in each other's bodies. Part 3 of 3. Approx words. 2700 Smut and Spice. TW for gender dysphoric descriptions.

The Old Switcheroo pt 1

The Old Switcheroo pt 2

Haruko got back to the mansion much sooner than Arthur would have. She’d left right after the chess game. Arthur’s team trounced Theo’s, and everyone was celebrating but she really just wanted to be home. To find Arthur and tell him . . . not that she was sorry, not exactly. Rather, that she trusted him. Haruko could admit when she was wrong.

Despite his late night hobbies, Arthur loved her and remained true. She wanted him to know that she knew that. She still wished he would spend more time with her rather than out but she understood now.

When Haruko arrived home, Sebas greeted her in surprise. “Arthur! I didn’t expect you to make it back for dinner. Did something happen?”

“No, no. Not at all. And don’t worry about dinner. I came home to - to write! Yes! I have lots of writing. Maybe you can send Haruko up with a sandwich later.”

Sebastian nodded, but his eyes were still narrow with suspicion. “Alright. I don’t know if Haruko will be up to bringing you anything though. She came back from the market completely frazzled. Dropped off the groceries and went straight to the baths.”

“The market? You sent him - ah, I mean her to the market?” Haruko felt a little spike of guilt. What if he’d met Jack and got the wrong idea?

“Yes? She goes nearly every day.” He looked even more suspicious now. “She brought back some lovely chocolate creme rolls, if you -”

“Thanks, Sebastian. I- I’ve got to go.” Haruko hurried past. She could just imagine Arthur sulking in the hot water, angry and hurt and probably thinking all the wrong things.

She hurried to the baths. When she got to them, she took a deep breath and then threw open the door and marched in, explanations ready to go. Arthur was in the bath - well, in her body, anyhow. Just seeing her bare shoulders above the waterline stirred that unfamiliar hunger in Arthur’s body. Haruko thought it felt a bit like an ache or a burn. Something in need of soothing. The feeling drew her forward even as she tried to ignore it.

“Jack is just a friend!” She blurted the words clumsily, with no prelude or even a greeting.

Arthur’s eyes opened wide in surprise. Haruko had to admit that her face looked pretty cute when she did that. Then he smirked and that expression, even on Haruko’s lips, was all his. “Is that so, luv?”

“Yes. I- I know I should have said something but, but hey! You didn’t tell me you were friends with a - a working woman either so . . .”

“Genevieve and her girls just need a hand sometimes,” he said, his voice going high and squeaky. Haruko wondered if that was how she normally sounded to him. “And it’s not like they make me special treats, hm?”

Haruko frowned. “They don’t, hm? Not even Serafine?”

“Not - what? No! I mean, she offered. But the only woman I ever want is you.” Arthur let out a sigh, the narrow shoulders of Haruko’s body drooped. “I love you. More than anything. And if I’m honest, meeting Jack today terrified me. I don’t want you to ever feel like some other man gives you something - offers you something - that I don’t. So . . . I guess I’m saying, luv, that I understand. And I’m sorry.”

All the angry words Haruko had ready to launch evaporated like mist in the morning sun. What could she say to that? She loved him too. “I . . . yeah, you’re right. I feel like that when I see some beautiful woman flirting with you. I know I don’t look like them and I wonder if - if that's what you’d rather have.”

“I never want anyone but you.” He smiled up at her and then laughed. “Feels damn strange saying that with your mouth, looking at myself. But it’s true.”

“Yeah. It’s pretty weird to watch myself talking to me. But . . . I know what you mean. There’s no pastry that could lure me away from you. Or anything else.”

Haruko’s face took on a decidedly un-Haruko-like expression. One with more wicked mischief than she had, at the very least. “Why don’t you lean down here and give us a kiss, luv? Tell me with a touch how much you still love me.”

“Arthur!” Haruko felt her face - well, his face really, flush with heat. They’d kissed plenty of times, and more, but it still made her feel so shy when he just said things like that straight out.

“Is that a no?” Arthur pouted, making a moue of Haruko’s lips.

“Of course not,” she laughed self-consciously, and bent down, leaning over the water.

Arthur reached up and grasped her shoulders. It was funny to notice how small her body was, how her little hands felt when she reached up and held onto Arthur’s shoulders. Then he pushed off the bath wall with his legs and pulled Haruko into the bath with him, still fully dressed.

Haruko hit the water before she could react and came up spluttering. “You! Why? Arthur!”

Laughing, he kissed her. She expected for a moment to sink into his arms, but in Arthur’s body and him with her smaller frame, it just didn’t work. After a moment of awkward shifting around, they settled into a new embrace, laughing at their clumsiness.

“Never realized how good it feels to be held like this,” Arthur said between kisses.

“Mmm. It is nice.” Haruko squeezed him tightly. She ran her hands down Arthur’s back. “You feel good too.”

Arthur made a little sound, something between a sigh and a moan. “Is - is this what you feel when I hold you? My whole body is - it’s just . . . like tension all through me - but good.”

Haruko would have blushed if her cheeks weren’t already red from the heat of the bath water and the kiss. “Yeah.” She was feeling some things as well. The softness of her breasts crushed tight against Arthur’s chest, the warmth of her body sliding against Arthur’s solid frame . . . it left a tightness in her low belly. A hunger that ebbed and flowed with the beat of Haruko’s human heart.

“Yeah?” Arthur asked, his tone teasing.

She understood why he sounded so gleeful a moment later as Arthur wrapped his legs around her hips. For a moment, her mind went completely blank. A flash of desire hit her so strongly that she could not think, couldn’t even breathe. She ached to be closer, to meet skin to skin. Arthur’s body was strung tight with need, almost shaking from it.

Arthur kissed Haruko, crushing his mouth against Arthur’s wider lips. He pushed her lips apart, tongue pressing insistently, desperately.

Haruko answered his desire with her own. She kissed him with his own lips, and taunted him with his own playful tongue.

Arthur slid a hand through her hair, tugging lightly at the back.

This was something Haruko did to him and it felt amazing. A slight tinge of pain that made everything else happening in Arthur’s body, all the hungry tension, the pleasure of the kiss, the physical need to be closer, the drum of his heart - all of it felt suddenly sharper, more intense. She’d thought she understood what it was to want someone. To crave their touch and the feel of their skin on yours, but this was something else.

“D-does it always feel like this . . . for you . . . too” she murmured in the breath between kisses.

Arthur laughed, a soft breathy sound that tickled the tiny hairs on Haruko’s cheek. “Depends, luv. If you feel like you might burst your trouser seams and your heart is so full it hurts, then yes.” He slipped one of Haruko’s hands down Arthur’s chest, opening buttons and pushing aside wet fabric.

Haruko shivered, feeling Arthur’s body react to this new intimacy. The feel of her soft hand on Arthur’s chest, fingernails tracing a fine line from his sternum and down. Down to the plane of her low belly.

“Should we go lower still, luv?” He grinned, and Haruko could not help notice how pretty her own smile was through Arthur’s eyes.

“That- that isn’t how this usually goes,” she said, hearing the rising pitch of Arthur’s voice as she spoke. “You usually tease me.”

“So . . . tease.” His smile was a challenge and an invitation.

Hesitantly, she leaned forward to kiss along the pulse she could hear and feel beneath Haruko’s soft skin. Her lips caressed the line of Haruko’s neck and down her shoulder.

Arthur arched under her touch, gasping in a way that only made Haruko want to hear more.

She lifted him out of the water just enough to reach her breasts. She’d seen them her whole life and never appreciated them as she did now. To Haruko in her own body, they were . . . ok. Not perfectly matched, with one a little bigger than the other, and always seeming a little too big or a little too small depending on the occasion and the dress. But tonight, they looked divine beneath Arthur’s loving gaze.

Haruko tentatively flicked a tongue over one hardened nipple.

The sound Arthur made was somewhere between the word ‘yes’ and ‘please’.

She could not help but obey both his gasped entreaty and her body’s desire. Haruko’s mouth closed around the nipple, lathing it with her tongue, letting Arthur’s fangs scrape against the skin. The urge to bite down was almost undeniable. Like holding a candy between your lips without letting yourself taste it. It made every small motion, every bit of what she could touch feel more.

“G-go on. You can.” Arthur’s breathless permission made her pause, remembering the feel of it when he drank from her. The ecstasy of the vampiric bite. She wondered if Arthur ever felt what it was like to be bitten.

Just thinking about drinking from Haruko made Arthur’s body shake with need. But she didn’t want to give in yet. Instead, she switched her attention to the other breast, giving it the same sweet attention as the first. Desire ached through her, a thirst for blood and a physical need to be even closer, to touch. Her hand slid along the inner length of Haruko’s thigh, lightly squeezing.

Her fingertips sought the heat between Haruko’s legs, warmed from the hot bath and slick with desire. Haruko was surprised at the feel of her own skin, the silk-soft delicacy of it. She moved slowly, exploring herself through Arthur’s hands.

Arthur pressed into the touch, eager and desperate. “Oh . . . oh god . . . you . . . that feels . . .” His vocabulary shrunk down to a wordless moan as her thumb brushed the hardened pearl of her arousal.

Haruko knew exactly what touch she enjoyed. Her fingers played a rhythm in time with her racing heart, teasing moans from Arthur’s lips that only built the fire of need in her. She felt dizzy with it, fevered. She buried her face in Arthur’s chest, kissing and nipping with a desperation she did not know she could feel.

He undid the belt buckle and the trouser buttons so deftly that Haruko barely noticed them billow out from her legs. But she did feel the sudden caress of the hot water on Arthur’s hardened member. It jutted from between his legs, angling for the space that her hand currently occupied.

Arthur wrapped his fingers around it, and Haruko thought for a moment she had died. Her breath stopped. Her heart lurched in her chest. The solid frame of Arthur’s body trembled and she felt shaken within it. This . . . was what Arthur felt when she touched him? The thought was distant, faint, as her mind and body drummed with one desire.

Haruko’s fingers plunged into the satin heat of herself. Her thoughts were all one cry of need. A cry Arthur echoed in the bath chamber as Haruko’s body arched into the touch, pushing her fingers deeper. Arthur’s cock throbbed with the need to be there, promising a pleasure far greater than her hand could accomplish.

Never in her life had she wanted something so much as she wanted him now. Thoughts of teasing burnt away. Haruko shifted her hands, her grip moving to Arthur’s thighs. And then slowly, so slowly it almost hurt, she pushed into him. She felt every millimeter of silken fire embrace her. Flesh met flesh, fitted perfectly together, and it felt like heaven. Like home. Like her body was singing. Her nerves blazed with the sensation. This was what Arthur felt every time they made love. That thought was lost in the ecstasy of the moment.

Arthur was undone in her arms. His breath came in gasping, whimpering moans. His hands rested on her shoulders, hips rolling forward to press deeper, faster.

Haruko knew how much sweeter the release would be if she could draw it out. Her hips moved with slow deliberation, though she too ached for climax. Every stroke felt so good it almost hurt to slide slowly out of that satin grip but the return was glorious. She cried out in Arthur’s deeper voice, unable to form words for what she felt.

They moved together with hedonistic abandon, breath mixing with their hungry kisses.

A tremor ran through Haruko’s body as Arthur brushed the edge of climax. He gasped in surprise at the intensity of the sensation before he was taken by it fully. The sound of his voice rose as Haruko filled him, plunging as deeply as she could go. Arthur arched back, whole body rigid, and then collapsed against her as he felt for the first time what it was to come as a woman. He could barely catch a breath as Haruko’s body quaked in the throes of pleasure.

The feel of him brought Haruko to the brink as well. Arthur’s body was just as tense, straining as if holding back with all she had, while reaching . . . reaching . . . Her mouth kept returning to the delicate, sensitive skin of Arthur’s neck. Her own skin, that tasted sweet as nectar to Arthur’s tongue. She kissed down to the rising slope of her breast and then, instinct and desire her guide, bit lightly down.

Haruko was shocked at how it felt to drink. To feel the scarlet trickle across her tongue. Hot and coppery, a tang of salt and sweetness. The pleasure of biting was only a little different than being bitten. Arthur’s body thrummed with bliss. She couldn’t hold him back any longer.

She felt it in her low belly first, an unbelievable tightness, followed by a flood, a release as sudden and intense as a breaking dam. A tsunami in a storm. A feeling beyond expression that took her and shook her like a ragdoll, body and soul. A line of white-hot pleasured heat that connected her to Arthur, drawing out of her even as she drank him in. A circuit of pure bliss that left her empty and full all at once. And then it was gone, leaving her weak and thin and thready.

Her legs felt like jello and her heart beat like a mad drummer. “I love you,” she said, her voice hoarse and low. Arthur spoke it at the same moment in Haruko’s soft, breathy tone.

Haruko shut her eyes, overcome with sensation and emotion and exhaustion. There was a feeling behind her eyelids of motion. Like drifting in a current, being tugged along gently forward. When she opened them again, it was to see Arthur’s blue eyes watching her. His lips curved in a sated smile. She reached up to touch her face. Her own face. Her mouth and nose and eyes. Her hair, that fell now against her sweat-damp neck.

“That was amazing, luv,” Arthur spoke so softly she almost couldn’t hear him. “Feeling you, being you . . .” He grinned. “And now I know how good I really am.”

She swatted at him playfully. “Don’t get too full of yourself.”

“Mmmm, but it is you that is full of me.” He moved his hips just enough to remind her, and the feeling sent another wave of pleasure through her tired limbs.

“You can’t be serious,” she laughed.

Arthur kissed her, his answer clear in the movement of his body against hers. “It’s not my fault you always leave me wanting more of you,” he told her when their kiss broke.

“I’m sure it is.” She tried to tease back, but the embers of desire in her were already kindled anew and she couldn’t fool him. Not for a moment.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp arthur #arthur conan doyle #really spicy #smut #ikevamp smut #otome guys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic #body swap #tw gender dysphoric descriptions

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 1 year

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Yandere Best Friend

Tw: childhood abuse, divorced parents, bullying, violence, angstt, parental neglect

ageless blogs n minors DNI blease tq <3

my masterlist

hi guys after a long hiatus i come back , coping mechanism time

i wrote this like from 11pm to 3am in a frenzy so dont exepct much , ridden wih typos, contradiction,grandma misrake and idk if the reader here is fully gender neutral or i accidentally sprinkled some afab in there

thersras like a part 2 to this so eyah stayetuned

enjoys

He was there from the very beginning, that quiet boy from elementary that you shared your sandwich with when no one bats an eye at him.

He was quiet, you were considered uninteresting. Both of you are somewhat outcasts and the other children held no interest towards you and him. Perfect match for each other, instant best buddies, bonded by mutual loneliness.

Well, maybe, not instant. He was weary and so were you, it took a while before you gained his trust. He made sure you didn't stuff nasty, gritty bugs in that sandwich like how all the other kids would do. You made sure he didn't accept it just to throw it in your face.

Once it was established that you didn't add an extra ingredient and he isn't going to play bread frisbee, the door to a long and strong friendship was established. He doesn't have much to say, but he's never short on kind gestures when it comes to you. Are your bags heavy? Let him carry them, he's a strong boy; he drinks his milk and gets his healthy amount of sleep. You forgot to do your 5th grade long division homework? He is going to swap his completed homework sheets with your empty ones, he's okay with being scolded. He has some stupidly thick skin from what goes on at home.

Your yoyo is really cool, you said. You own that yoyo now. No, really, it's okay. He doesn't really need it and it made you happy when you had it in your small hands. Yes, it took him months of begging his busy, overworked, broken, divorced, struggling, knee-deep in debt dad and a couple of missed lunches to get that shiny yoyo, but he loves seeing your surprised expression and dazzling smile.

Oops, you spilled your drink all over another classmate's book, or you broke a window, or you dented a teacher's car. It doesn't matter how many people witness it, it doesn't matter what you say, he's responsible and will gracefully accept all repercussions and punishments even if that means receiving a couple more ugly bruises on his body that night.

Who doesn't like candy? He sure loves them. That's why, he uses up all his already scarce pocket money to buy you some. You protest, he's confused, don't you like candy? Yes, he knows he won't be eating a lot these few weeks because he can't afford it, but don't you like candy?

Are your hands dirty from eating all that chocolate? Here, use his white shirt as a napkin. No, really, it's okay! He's your friend, he would do anything for you... are your shoes muddy too?

Happy birthday! It's a very special day for you and him too, that's why, he saved up enough to buy you a tasty cake and a pair of beautiful promise rings made up of gold! Isn't that cool? Don't worry about how he got the money and please ignore the giant, bloodied cotton gauze on his head, please ignore his black eye, please ignore the strange burn marks on his limbs. His extra injuries are due to... him falling off a bike. You know that's not true. That's not how he got them. He is going to be really sad if you don't accept his gifts, better just shut up, smile, say thank you, kiss the boo-boos away, stuff your face with delicious cake and wear the damn ring.

Good morning, good afternoon, good evening, good night, goodbye, I love you and all the other greetings are something you hear everyday from him. Hm, the teachers are complaining that he isn't that polite to them or to the other children, all they get are silent blank stares at best, a scowl and a spitting hiss at worst.

Halloween's here, you're dressed up as a generic bedsheet ghost because its the cheapest to do. While he's dressed up as a horror movie survivor. Wow, the cuts, tattered clothes, blood, abuse marks and limping walks really sold the costume. But you and him both know very well that these aren't done using makeup or prosthetics.

You and him went on trick and treating quietly.

Aww, you both are so adorable. Candies for days. Your pumpkin buckets filled up quick, that's because your friend keeps piling his candy into yours.

Aren't chocolate bars his favorite? Yes, of course. They're so expensive, delicious and very unafforable. But why does he keep giving them to you and leaving none for himself? Because they're everyone's favorite, including yours, duh!

Such a young gentleman, he is the type to lay his coat over a puddle of water for you to cross over it.

Middle school is where children usually begin to explore the concept of romance. Maybe you saw him as a brother, maybe you weren't attracted to him at the time, maybe you wanted to put his devotion for you to the test. Whatever the reason was, you consistently friendzone him whenever he tried to court you.

But it's okay, he is willing to wait. He is willing to have his eyes sting with tears, heart broken over and over again. He is willing to grit his teeth and clench his fists while forcing a smile, watching you experiment with the idea of having a boyfriend or girlfriend with other people. He is willing to be the third wheel to every single one of your dates with other kids. Your friend is always going to be there for you no matter what, he is your unyielding safety net, he is your second choice, he is always the best alternative or default when the puppy love didn't work out. And, he found solace in that. Others come and go, he is the fucking constant.

Then, he is going to try his luck. He will do it over and over again. You're going to accept it one day.

Your friend loves flowers. He speaks the language and gives you bouquets of red roses and pink Camellias. You usually chuck it in a vase filled with water and let it wilt, they're going to be replaced anyways.

He found that the food in the cafeteria can be awful, with goopy expired milk, to half frozen pizzas, they're bound to cause some poor kid to puke their guts out later in the day. He is making sure you're not that kid, so, he dedicated what precious free time he had to hone his cooking skills. He is a busy boy, working god knows how many jobs a 12 year old can work in a day, just to fund this essential skill of his.

Middle schoolers can be so cruel, your friend may not look the most feminine, but it's the actions he does out of love that makes the children pick on him for being different. Ew! He likes flowers and cooking! Gross! Evil! Unnatural! Independent! So not Alpha!

It starts off rocky at first, bullies will sabotage him whenever they can, kick him while he's down. Ruin his stocks, call him names and vandalize his belongings, but he gets the last laugh when he makes fucking bank by selling warm, hearty, tasty meals. They're a big hit among the staff who have no time to cook for themselves and have half a brain to know eating from the cafeteria is a bad idea.

Of course, his beloved sweetheart gets to eat for free. And has the privilege to go for seconds, thirds, fourths, however much your stomach desires. Yours are always personalized to fit your palate and presented in the most appetizing way.

Soon, other children began buying his meals too. As it turns out, they fucking slap.

He began expanding, selling resold candies at a ridiculously marked up prices, but the way he marketed and packaged them, gave an illusion that he's selling a premium product. They sold out like hotcakes, while you ate wrapper after wrapper without needing to pay a single cent.

Hey, he really has a knack for business! He is raking in profits, bringing you out to eat, spoiling you with riches a self made, young entrepreneur would have, excelling in Business studies, Accounting, Mathematics and Psychology.

He began testing the limits of his trading empire, he began dabbling in service based business such as delivery, doing homework for a price, obtaining blackmail material... that is how he knew your homeroom teacher had an extramarital affair with the principal. Hmm... the principal seems to kiss his ass a lot and you get a bunch of privileges. You wonder why that happened.

His reputation grew as his shrewdness grew. Your friend was too intimidating to be bullied, as one of his business ventures includes hiring others to do some dirty work for him. You don't know the full extent of his giant conglomerate enterprise, and you don't want to know.

You remember seeing a female teacher handing him a wad of cash, her hair tousled, her clothes were messy, her lipstick smeared and weird stains were all over her body. For sure, she didn't just find it laying around in the boys' bathroom... and, there were a lot more boys requesting a bathroom break that day.

Your friend bought you the latest smartphone model on the same day too. You were disturbed with what you saw and the implications, so you asked if she even got anything out of working under him and... if she even agreed to work as... whatever she was. He just smiled, cup your cheek and told you to never, ever, ever, cheat in a relationship. Especially not with him.

He then followed up with his probably hundredth love confession for you. Which you promptly friendzone him again. Your friend would simply sigh and change the subject. Do you like your phone? He asked as you began unboxing it, the loud chatter from the mall's food court drowned the voice of doubt in your head.

His wallet is growing wider, he is growing taller, posture disciplined, voice deeper and he lost the majority of his baby fat. Giving him a sharper, meaner, leaner look, his physique is nothing to scoff at either. All those pastry batter mixing, soup stirring, skull bashing hustling and bustling sculpted those perfect abs and ass. His hair now has a healthy sheen to it since he can afford better things, his skin had no flaw and the protruding ribs on his chest is now covered up with muscular pecs.

Being pretty does have its' privileges, he observed a sale boost in his balance sheets.

Time waits for no man. Before you know it, the both of you are in Graduation togas. Smiling for the camera, you gave your friend bunny ears.

Your friend started worthless in everyone's eyes, something to poke fun at, a punching bag, forgettable and nothing serious. He transformed into this feared, revered, worshipped yet hated entity. Your friend no doubt made as many enemies as allies, that's just how it is in the business industry. Cold blooded, ruthless and absolutely bizarre to you.

He has obviously put some of the staff and students in horrible situations for his benefit and sometimes for your entertainment. They seem to genuinely see him as some sort of god, someone to cleanse them from all their sins. They... loved him. What a manipulative motherfucker.

As for you... your situation is pretty strange too. You are clearly the only person he cared about, the only person he truly ever loved and cherish. No one seem to conjure up the idea to use you against him. You seem... invisible, for the most part. And you are so grateful for that.

At least, that's what your friend wants you to think. You have no idea how many strings he has to pull to keep you safe and oblivious and innocent. You have no idea how much he had to spend to keep you pure and untainted. But, yeah. Keep believing its' due to some sort of cosmic karma system where you didn't incur any karmic debt.

It was the first time seeing his parents at this graduation ceremony, he never liked having you over at his house. They looked like how you imagined them; miserable, horrible, unhealthy and volatile. They really should not be seated next to each other, his parents looked like they're about to strangle each other and your friend at a moments' notice.

His father was smoking, plumes of grey wafted up in the open air. Ashes crumbled and dropped down to his lap. His necktie was undone and his office shirt was disheveled, much like his belt and scuffed shoes. It was a wonder how he's not escorted out of the venue yet.

His mother... she aged horribly. She looks irritated yet distant, she doesn't want to be here. Or does she not want to be with her ex husband? Maybe if they were separated by an opaque wall, the mood would be much more lifted. His mom wasn't mentioned a lot during conversations, you knew close to nothing except the fact that she gets him on the weekends.

Perhaps his mother is simply neglectful and not active, he did mention that its easier to prepare his sellable inventory during the weekends.

You're nervous to meet them, they're really unfriendly and they don't seem to care that much about their son's accomplishments.

Your friend gently wrapped his arm around your shoulders and rubbed his hand up and down your arm. As if to soothe you from the sight of his less than ideal parents.

To you surprise, he just shot them an indifferent look before leading you away. Their relationships must be unsalvageable.

The event comes to an end, your friend mingled with everyone who, the majority, had clenched fists behind their back. He then went to socialize with your parents, he knew them well and they also knew them well. Their opinions on him are lovely.

He continued his endeavors, trying out many different ventures. It was extremely dizzying with the sheer amount of businesses he had. Your friend moved out of his parents' house(s) and struggled with finding a place for a while. So he stayed over at your parents' house with you for the time being. You get to wake up to the smell of deliciousness every morning, the plants would be watered, furniture dusted, home sparkling clean. Though, he was rarely around.

Eventually, he found his footing and lived in his own place. It's a little cramped and it could qualify as a weapon of psychological warfare, but that was all he could afford at the time.

He fought tooth and nail to obtain a massive bank loan for his main business plan, he was stressing over opening his first restaurant. The logistics of it all, the raw materials, the hired help, the equipment, the advertising-- the pressure of it all was enough to break the average person, but not him. Oh, he thrived on this. He was calculating, he knew the costs, the risks and he saved up enough for a rainy day.

It took him many months, many trips to the bank, many meetings, many phone calls, emails, uncountable hours working 3 jobs a day, an eternity in the kitchen, in the sweltering heat of lit stoves heating up pots and pans, many times where he would lose his voice from aggressive marketing, persuasion, severe sleep deprivation, starvation, networking, tears, blood and sweat. There were more times than you can count with your hands that he was almost driven to insanity if it wasn't for you.

The thought of you alone was more than enough to ground him and keep his eyes on the prize, he is going to make so much money that, you and he wouldn't ever have to work ever again. You both would live happily ever after as a married couple, comfortable and never needing to worry if he could afford the next meal or keep the lights on.

That's nice. You wouldn't need to know what he went through, he doesn't want you to go through a life of hardship like how he did. You wouldn't ever need to work a day in your life.

Your friend rubbed his aching, calloused hands, ridden with cuts and scars. The golden promise ring sits around his finger, it wasn't his to begin with, he stole them from his parents when you both were kids. He found solitude knowing that your hands will never be like his, your back will not ache from overexertion, your muscles will be relaxed and your mind will be quiet, at peace. But only if he kept going. Only if he does not give up.

Everything he does, he does it for you. He thought to himself, as he rubbed his bloodshot eyes staring at the screen of his phone. It's showing that 5 more customers placed an order for his famous party platter through a popular social media app. Your friend sighed as he tucks his phone away before opening the door to his mini fridge containing all the ingredients needed for the orders. It's 11pm, he has to be at one of his workplaces at 6am tomorrow.

The day finally came where he would open the doors to his very own restaurant. There was a crowd waiting in front of the shiny, polished glass doors.

His team of service crews, cooks and baristas anxiously watched on as your friend glanced at his old, marred and cracked wristwatch. His hand was tightly gripping on the door handles as he watched the minute hand twitched. His eyes and mouth were dry, probably due to the dehydration he endured for a while now.

As soon as his accessory shows that it's time for the grand opening, he opened the floodgates.

Customers come rushing in like a torrent of water in a river. Some new, some old, some here to do their jobs as a journalist, some are his other associates, some are his estranged relatives, some are his rivals. It was an assortment of people, a mixed bag.

The Chefs are cooking up a storm in the kitchen, the wait staff are serving customers left and right, bringing them to their tables. Baristas are whipping up as much drinks as they can, as perfectly as they can. Not a single foam bubble out of place, or else all those training would have gone to waste.

It was loud, busy and fiery. Chaos yet it was controlled, Disorder but it was ordered.

Your friend was leading the flow, the rhythm. The pulse of the restaurant depended on him. He made sure everything is in line, satisfaction at an all time high and disappointment non existent. He barked commands, firm and domineering, he controls the scene with an iron hand.

Waitstaff were trained to strike up friendly conversations with customers whose orders will take a longer time, to give the illusion of speed. Cheery faces, toothy smiles, giggles and laughter filled the establishment's air, alluring aroma of cooked goods filled everyone's nostrils, making many stomachs growl. It was colourful, it was tumultuously harmonic, expression of glee would made its way to the patrons' face when their dishes gets served. All the meals go beyond their expectations, in terms of smell, texture, taste and plating.

Your friend made sure that the cooling system was working perfectly, as he works in a kitchen, the easiest way to get snappy and grumpy is to be hungry in an oven. Calming music that's faintly playing in the background also helps, but its' mostly for him and the other staff. Everyone else is too occupied with their own matters to notice.

Today should be a day of accomplishment, happiness and gratitude. Why shouldn't it be? Revenue is projected to be high, profits are guaranteed and expected to go through the roof. Logically, this restaurant will be sustainable for many decades to come.

But your friend... he is getting antsy, upset, distressed, unhappy. His staff is noticing that he isn't all there, he's getting crabbier by the second. They were baffled, everything is going well, he is handling it wonderfully and the pressure is actually slightly dying down.

Where are you? He had scanned the dining area many many times now. No sign of you... but your parents were there. That somewhat calmed him down a bit, if they're there, you should be there too... right? You're probably at the salad counter or the bathroom. He anxiously massaged his hands, where are you?

He trusts his staff to handle everything on their own. He decided to take big strides towards your parents. Your friend greeted them with a warm smile, an animated Hello. Your parents mirrored him and returned the affability.

He was desperate to see you again... oh god, how long has it been since he last saw you? Hear your voice? It must have been months. As this realization dawned on him, he felt the coldest chill run down his spine.

Did he... unintentionally neglected you in the process of building the perfect life? No, that can't be. He sent you texts everyday.

He clenched his jaw and pushed his gnawing thought away momentarily. He made small talk with your parents. It was fine until he abruptly cut them off and got to the point; Where are you?

Your parents glanced at each other and a look of discomfort washed over them. Your friend was using the table to support his weight as he leaned forward. His knuckles turning white from gripping the edge of the furniture too tightly.

They're studying abroad. They said. Your friend froze in place and widened his eyes.

What? Why didn't you tell him? Why didn't he know? Why--

He hastily whipped his phone out and frantically tapped on his cracked screen.

He trembled as he realized you never received his texts, let alone read it.

Your parents explained to him that you changed phone numbers two years ago when you left to continue your studies abroad.

Two years...? Its been two fucking years?!

Your friend began hyperventilating, his face was flushed and he was gagging and gasping. No, no, no this can't be. He is nothing like his parents! You meant everything to him, he had never intend to ignore you, he had never meant to neglect you! Your friend is losing grip on himself, he is shaking like a leaf. No one paid any attention to him, as he is simply insignificant at the moment.

Please... I-I need to call them, please let me call them! He was choking on his tears that were streaming down his face, dripping onto the pristine floors below.

Your father handed him his phone, your new number already dialed.

They're probably having an exam today. Your father tried to warn your friend, but he didn't hear a word. All he could think was you.

Your friend snatched it out from his hand and made a dash past all the staff, customers, chefs...

Until he reached the back door, upon which, he exited through it.

He sobbed, pressing the device against his ear, listening to it beep indefinitely.

The call eventually dropped because it wasn't picked up. His face was scrunched and his sniffles were bouncing off the walls and green dumpster nearby.

He tried again. The call dropped. He tried again. The call dropped.

He tried again,

Your friend crouched down to the ground and pulled his knees to his chest. His cries unheard by anyone, everyone else is in the restaurant. He is the only one at the back.

The call dropped.

I'm sorry. He mumbled repeatedly to himself.

He tried again.

I'm so sorry. He sobbed much harder this time, he cradled his face in his hand.

The call dropped.

Please forgive me. He squeezed his arm, his fingernails digging into his flesh.

He tried again.

You're always my number one. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have neglected you. He drew blood from piercing his skin with his nails.

The call dropped.

I'm sorry, I was only trying to build a better life for us. He took much shallower breaths.

He tried again

I would give up everything just to hear from you again, it means nothing to me if you're not here... with me. Please, I'm sorry. He was growing despondent, desolate. He was clutching his head, a ball of quivering mess.

The call dropped.

I love you. He whispered as he broke down completely. Angry at himself, angry at the world, angry at everything. Life isn't fair. He has done everything he needed to do and yet he the only reward he ever wanted isn't granted; you. He ruined everything, all of it, all his hard work, all of it was worthless. He felt worthless. The guilt and remorse and anguish of being a neglectful friend and partner was crushing him to death.

He wasn't there at the very end.

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