Chase's 'it's Tuesday I still like you' bit was fucking unhinged can we talk about this?

Girl when was the first time dr ren romanced reader chan?

Ren was nervous.

He had never tried this before.

It wasn’t his style, not in Medical school, undergrad or even high school. Ren wasn’t the guy people found charming, or handsome, or understanding. Any girl he fucked was just that, a girl, and he told them straight up he wasn’t going to talk to them after.

But now there’s you.

Waltzing into his life, with no fucking warning, burrowing into his cold heart. Ren thought you would be a quick fuck, something pretty to see when he had the time, that was it! You seemed to be that way too, young and smart. Still working through school, didn’t have time to be chasing men.

He was lucky you even gave him the time of day, after you rocked his world. And every night after that, your silky cunt clenching around his cock. Ren felt like passing out just thinking about it, hot and bothered as he sat at his desk.

All the patients were gone for the day, he had finished his chart work. Nursing staff had bid their goodbyes, telling him to have a good weekend or whatever. Ren tapped on the desk with his pen, the only sound in the room now that the halls were empty.

“This is stupid,” he muttered, throwing down the pen to cradle his face. It had been four days since he spoke to you, 6 days (if you’re counting) since he saw you. Ren had tried to play it cool, you usually texted him a few days after fucking to say hello and let him know what was going on.

Or that one time you called him because you were busy with your hands. And you both ended up just existing together on the phone, you doing homework while he read through charts. Talking like you were face to face.

Radio silence now.

Maybe you were done... it would be understandable. There were much younger, more emotionally available men in your corner. Or women, don’t think he forgot about that time you told him about. That he now fantasies about when he’s lonely...

Ren was no prize, from the outside yes he was attractive. Unconventional, but broad, thick, nice hair, deep voice, big hands, a ‘monster cock’. But he wasn’t what people called good company.

He grabbed his phone out, wincing when he saw no messages from you. The last thing in your thread is a message from Ren saying ‘have a good day.’

Ren typed out a message, didn’t want to seem too desperate.

Hey, I just got off work. Can you be at my place tonight?

Nailed it.

He waited.

Waited.

Watched the message sit there for 3,4,5,6... oh no 10 minutes?

👍🏼

———

Ren was so excited, he didn’t respond to your emoji. It would seem too forward, so he left it at that and grabbed everything for the weekend. Stopping at a few stores for supplies, some bottles of wine and cheese.

Do women like flowers?

You would be the first woman he had been with sexually for longer than a month... do they expect flowers?

What if you’re allergic?

“Fuck,” he grabbed some anyway, if he panicked he could throw them out the window before you arrived. Ren rode up the elevator in silence, trying to steady his breathing so he could focus on getting the apartment ready.

Fumbling with the keys when he made it to his door, Ren let out a sigh of relief when he got in. Setting everything on the countertop, he popped open a bottle. Taking a few swigs to make sure it wasn’t poisonous.

He decided to put the flowers in a vase, how he had a vase he wasn’t sure, that way they could look like a gift to himself in case you hated them. No big deal, he would just be crushed if you did. Ren took a quick shower, after a small workout so his muscles would be on display for you.

Ren noticed when he was naked and you basked in each other’s embrace, you liked to trace his shoulders and biceps. Fingering the veins that laid under his skin, cording down to his wrists. Before you’d suck on his thick fingers...

A knock at the door drew him away from his pinning, maybe he would get you to lay with him tonight. Long enough to smell your hair while you drifted off like a tired, fucked out little kitten. He schooled his features before opening the door, ready to see what gorgeous outfit you wore this evening for him.

“Hi, don’t touch me I’m sick,” you shoved past him. Sneezing into a tissue you held in your hand, he watched with startled eyes as you dropped a bag on the floor. Looking around the room confused, you looked awful. Cheeks red, nose colored, lips puffy and swollen, your eyes were tired. Decorated with under eye bags, your hair was a mess. Separated into two twin braids down your scalp, it looked like you slept in them. Creating a halo of frizz.

You coughed into your elbow, “Whys it so dark in here?”

Ren blinked, shutting the door and approaching you slowly. Shocked to see you moving around his kitchen like you owned it, flipping on more lights. Taking a mug from the cabinet, he watched you turn on his keurig.

“Pretty flowers,” you nodded to the vase, “Your girlfriend get them for you?”

“Are you,” he approached slowly, “Are you sick?”

You laughed, well tried. It was a hoarse rasp, something that shredded your once sweet melodic laugh, “No shit sherlock, you should be a detective instead of a doctor.”

He watched you make yourself some tea, handing you a box of bags that you couldn’t reach. Ren was shocked, you didn’t tell him you were sick. He would’ve understood, and how could you be still enchanting when you looked like a drown rat?

You sighed in relief as you inhaled the scent. “Sorry, I’m grumpy. Been fighting this for like a week now, did you get me sick?”

He shook his head quickly, “No-I didn’t.”

“Well, you do work at a hospital,” you mumbled, sipping slowly before waltzing out of the kitchen. Ren followed you slowly, watching you snatch a blanket, the same one you laid on when he fingered you on the couch.

Curling yourself into it before kicking open the door to his bedroom. Setting your mug down on the nightstand, after finding a coaster, and plopping down in his bed.

“So, you wanted me to come over?”

“Yeah.”

You both stared in silence, Ren watched you bite your lip. Suddenly nervous even though you waltzed in like you owned the place. “Look,” you coughed for a moment, “We can have sex, I just can’t do anything. So I can just bend over or whatever, then I can leave after.”

“What?”

“That’s why you called me, right? We haven’t had sex in a week, and you have flowers and wine and all that so, here you go. Be warned, I don’t have matching underwear on tonight.”

Ren watched as you tried to underdress, struggling to present yourself to him. He rushed over to you, pinning you to the mattress, “Hey-stop,” you coughed hard, “Don’t push on my chest, just wait a second and then you can do what you need to.”

“No,” Rens voice was sharp, even startling himself for a moment, “Stop undressing.”

You looked at him confused, your glassy eyes now clouded with insecurity and regret. Ren had to stop you, explain that he didn’t call you over for just sex.

Well, he wanted to have sex, but that wasn’t the main point. Ren watched you recoil, swallowing thickly as your eyes brimmed with tears, “Okay, um. Well I’ll just go, I’ll see ya around.”

You swung off the bed, letting the blanket fall. Ignoring your tea that was steaming on the table, he chased after you. Grasping the back of your hoodie, ignoring the sounds of your sniffling.

“No, stay. Please,” he wrapped an arm around you, keeping you flush with his chest, “I-I just wanted to see you.”

You felt you wiggle, turning to look up at him with wide eyes. Sneezing, very adorably he might add, before speaking, “Really?”

“Yes, I am a doctor, I could take care of you...”

“Oh.”

Wrong thing to say...

“I missed you, or whatever.”

You stayed still.

“And,” he mumbled, “The flowers are for you, I didn’t know you weren’t feeling great. I would’ve gotten some food that wasn’t wine and cheese.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, looking over at the counter from his arms. Rens heart swelled when you leaned your head against his chest, both of you sighing in relief.

“First thing we are doing,” Ren tugged you back to the bedroom, “Is getting you in a bath while I burn your clothes.”

———

ROMANCE THE DR REN WAY is a disaster.

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Coffee and A Wedding? Chapter 1

Ello! This week’s Tuesday update is the start of a very long and very late birthday gift to @winterisakiller and @alexakeyloveloki. Ever wonder how many tropes Kit can fit in one series? Better get counting. Ever wonder what Kit uses her extensive coffee knowledge for? This. 

We’re looking at weekly updates on most Tuesdays unless I fill the slot with a one shot. Please do enjoy.

This has made me nostalgic for a man I used to know. He was much older than Clint is in this series but he reminds me a lot about Clint. I think Clint would run a cafe the same way this man ran his. This man taught me everything I know about coffee and is the reason I can’t drink Starbucks and examine the machine before ordering a espresso drink. This man almost gave me his cafe when he retired. Here’s to you, Mr. Green. 

Warnings: Fucking trope-tastic. Eventual smut. Some light angst toward the end. 

Rating: M for eventual smut

Pairing: Clint x ofc, written first person.

Summary: Look, it’s perfectly normal to have a crush on your boss at some point in your life. You can’t tell me you hadn’t had it happen to you, can you? And Don’t tell me you haven’t made up an imaginary boyfriend to tell your family you had while you were away at college so they would stop nagging you, right? Perfectly normal. And surly you’ve based that imaginary boyfriend off your boss/crush, yeah? It’s normal, we’ve all done it once or twice. How was I to know that my sister would show up at the Arrowpoint Coffee to hand deliver our invitations to her wedding with our names printed in pretty swirly golden lettering right into the hand of my ‘boyfriend’. “Oh, I’m so pleased to meet the man treating my little sister so well.” Yeah, I bet you are. “I loved that date you took her on to a movie in the park! So thoughtful!” Yeah, I know you did. Thanks Sarah for letting the cat out of the bag but thank god Clint can roll with the punches. Now, we’ve got to go to a wedding together and pretend to be a couple and he won’t. Stop. Flirting. With. Me. Is this all a joke to you? I KNOW you just see me as a kid who works for you!

Tropes I’m hitting so far: Fake dating, weddings, age difference and so much more. Have a trope you want to see me try to work into this series? Let me know! Seriously, Let Me Know- I’m trying to hit as many as I can and sorry, the are not roommates.

Coffee and a Wedding

I thought of myself as forgettable and that was just all right by me. Even my name was forgettable, at least in my own opinion. It was easier to focus on your schoolwork when everyone sort of just forgot about you. I was lucky to get into a prestigious University and while uprooting my life was a logistic challenge, it didn’t feel like I was leaving a whole lot behind in order to chase the opportunity provided by a full Stark Scholarship.

The money covered all of my school expenses so long as I managed to keep my grades up so in the end, I did a lot of studying. School was expensive for anyone and this school- it was expensive no matter who you were. If Tony Stark and his company want to pay for me to go, I was going to keep it that way. When I wasn’t studying- I was working. The scholarship paid a portion of my rent after school expenses but that was it.

My family didn’t approve of my choice to study biology over medicine and so there was no help from them. It was the need for social interaction from someone not studying all the time like my classmates that drove me to choose a job working in a cafe. Well, that and the oddly decent pay. What can I say? I had quickly grown tired of eating cardboard noodles and beef flavored salt packets.

  From where I stood behind the counter while working, I could see the rise of Stark Tower in the distance. It made me smile, seeing it. The Tower was a marvel of technology and Eco-efficiency, having been off the electric grid for over a month now and showing no signs of failure in it’s power system. While I had no passion for engineering- Biology was where my heart was, I still was fascinated by it.

While the socialization I got working at the cafe was enough to keep me happy, my family was still prone to worrying. They were old fashioned at best, viewing a woman as incomplete without a romantic attachment and I had none. It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested in anyone, just that I was forgettable and he was both older than me and far too handsome for me to catch his eye. He probably just saw me as one of the kids he hired anyway.

It seemed harmless enough when it first started. Mom would ask me if there was anyone and I’d talk about a man who had his shit together, who treated me right. He had bright blue eyes and soft brown hair that bleached in the sun, giving it a warm golden glow. At first he was just a guy I liked but my family pushed for more.

Ask him out. Are you flirting with him? Make sure you do your hair up nice. Don’t go to class frumpy. Have you kept with your diet? Have you been flaunting your assets? They would remind me again and again that you had to hook a man if you wanted him. Such was not my way, however. I was far too timid to make the first move. And while my family thought he was a classmate though he was older than me, in truth he was my boss.  

It seemed harmless enough as I modeled this man who went from crush to camera shy boyfriend after the owner of the cafe I had been working at. It’s not as if anyone would ever find out. My family would never come out to the city to check up on me and he could be busy when I came home to visit. They could break up and I would be allowed peace while heartbroken. They never had to know and there was no way he would find out. My crush would stay private and they would be off my back for a while. Plus, I could live in the fantastic fantasy of being his girlfriend for a bit.

No one had to know it wasn’t real.

  While I sat by the window in the cafe, sipping at a mocha with the phone pressed to my ear, I listened to mom as she went on and on. In truth, I was only paying partial attention to the words being spoken from halfway across the country.

He was in today, as he was every Saturday. He said he worked them because he had nothing better to do and wanted to allow the kids who worked for him to take turns enjoying their weekends. It was because he worked every weekend that I made a point to offer to work them as well.

“You’ll come to the wedding, won’t you?” My mother asked.

“Mhm” I really didn’t want to go, truth be told. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see Sarah get married, it was just that I really didn’t want to go back home. Small town gossip would surely claim me as it’s victim yet again.

“You’ll bring that boy you’re seeing, won’t you? What was his name?”

“Clint Barton.” Instantly, I realized my mistake. I hadn’t been thinking. I couldn’t help it, I was too busy looking at him and just blurted out his name. That was how my family got the last name of the man I was secretly in love with.

Still, it was a big city. It’s not like my sister Sarah would hunt down the cafe I worked at by piecing together clues from what little she was able to see about where I worked from the few pictures she had access to in the next week, right?

  I was tired. Somehow I thought it was a good idea to stay up all night studying and truth be told, I was pretty sure I had forgotten to eat all of the day before. I was so damn tired but it was Saturday and I wouldn’t be calling out though Clint wouldn’t have minded.

He had always made a point to tell all the students working for him that our health came first. Our grades came first. We were all trying to make something of ourselves and he respected that. He would say that we didn’t want to end up working in cafes all of our lives like him. He would say as if his cafe wasn’t successful enough to provide a decent enough life for him.

“Good Morning.” I was surprised to turn and see him jogging up behind me as I made my way toward the cafe. Normally he would have already been in the shop by four in the morning to open at five.

“Good Morning, Mr. Barton.” He rolled his eyes at me.

All of his employees called him ‘Mr. Barton’ regardless of his protests. We called him so out of respect for him and all the support he offered us. Many of his employees lacked support from their families for whatever reasons and so he took them in, called them his family. Some were turned out for their sexuality, others for how they wished to identify themselves. There was a girl who’s parents thought her too dumb to be a doctor yet she was starting medical school in the fall and Clint was eager to enrage her each step of the way.

“Clint. My name is Clint.” With a shake of his head, he tried to hide the smile on his face.

“You’re running late?”

“I can’t be late.” He protested, strong hand dramatically held to his chest. The flair for dramatics he often showed always made my heart flutter, though I’d never tell him that. “I own the place.”

“Right.” He smiled down at me as I laughed. The way he looked at me, if I indulged in just a moment of daydreaming while we walked, I could pretend we were on our way to an early morning coffee date.

The weight of his hand settled on my shoulder as we stopped in front of the cafe. He looked at me, studied me and for a moment I feared my crush was written on my face. “Alexis? You look...” Beautiful? Radiant? Like a fire pixie? A dream come true? His soulmate? A girl could hope. “Exhausted. Do you want the day off?”

That wasn’t what I wanted to hear but I wasn’t surprised at all.

“I’m fine, really.” I may just be an employee to him, too young for him to even notice I was sure but still, I didn’t want to miss out on a Saturday morning with him.

“Have you eaten?” As much as I wanted to believe it, I just knew he was asking as a boss, a big brother figure to all his employees and not because I was any more special than any other employee. I didn’t want him to see me as just another employee, a little sibling like he calls all of his employees.

Clint opened the door for me, keyed off the alarm and flipped the lights. “I’m fine. I was just going to grab something on my break.”

“What if…?” He hummed.

“What if what?” I set about taking the chairs off the tables, trying to pretend that I couldn’t feel his eyes on me.

“What if we call in a breakfast order at the diner?” He offered from where he was checking the display case’s temperature readings. “My treat.”

He was always doing things like this for his employees. While we had packaged sandwiches and snacks, he rarely let his employees eat the cafe’s food. I knew better than to try and argue out of it. Still, I didn’t want to leave him to open by himself when he had gotten in late. He wouldn’t hear any of it though and before I knew it, I was set off with a few twenties while Clint opened the cafe on his own.

  Saturday mornings tended to be slow until around seven. The diner was open 24 hours and the early morning breakfast pick up orders were nothing new to them. I often wondered if Clint ever made his own food. He would have food delivered to the back door, if not for the whole staff, at least for himself.

I expected to come back to the cafe with a bag containing the two takeout containers like it was nothing. Admittedly, I was a bit excited about the prospect of maybe getting to sit down with Clint and eat. We’d likely have to take turns getting up and helping customers but it was something. Sure, still not a breakfast date but it was as close as I’d ever get.

The fall air was crisp and the leafs crunched under my feet. It was a good morning, really. The door was cool under my fingers. It opened smoothly, as it did any other time. Clint maintained every inch of the cafe almost obsessively. His employees would joke when he wasn’t around that he was single because of his love of coffee and his love of the cafe. It wasn’t anything he would argue. Clint himself had often said he was married to his shop and that he needed nothing but coffee to survive.

“Babe, you didn’t tell me your sister was going to be in town.” Clint’s voice called out as soon as I stepped through the door. “If I’d known, I would have ordered breakfast for three.”

Turning, I looked around the cafe. Surely I had stepped into some alternate reality. “Mr. Barton?” It took a moment longer for me to realize that Sarah was standing at the counter.

“Come on now, Babe- no one else is in yet.” The smile on his face was memorizing. He was giddy almost as he made his way around the counter. My heart stopped as I realized, Clint Barton called me ‘babe’ twice now. He was making a point. He knew my secrete, at least part of it.

“Sarah, I didn’t know you were coming…” It was a surprise to say the least. “Why didn’t you call? I could have taken the day off.”

“She brought us an invite to her wedding.” Clint held up the ivory colored paper, our names neatly printed in looping gold ink as if it were a prize.

“Of course she did.” I tried not to groan.

“I should let you two get to work. Seeing your boss, so sneaky! No wonder you didn’t want to tell mom more about him.” Sarah wiggled her fingers at us as I joined Clint behind the counter, setting the bag of takeout containers between us. I thought about breaking her fingers for a moment. I loved my sister but she had an amazing talent to grate on my nerves. “I look forward to seeing you at the wedding, Clint.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” With a wiggle of his fingers and a wide grin splitting his handsome face, Clint waved bye and Sarah turned and started walking out.

We stood in silence as we both watched Sarah walk away through the window. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. This was every one of my worst nightmares come true. It is time to wake up now. Any second now. Yeah no, sadly this was reality.

“Sooo…” Clint let the word hang for a moment. “Want to explain or should I start guessing why your sister thinks we’re dating?”

“I can explain.”

“Good,” He shrugs and I try to read him. Is he mad? Offended? Disgusted? Fucked if I could tell. “Then I can eat while you tell me why I’m going as your date to your sister’s wedding.”

“I swear, I didn’t mean for you to find out.” I sat down as he set our food out. He was acting as if it was nothing. This wasn’t nothing. This was an earth shattering secrete out in the open. Act like it, won’t you?

“Should I be offended by that or not?” Clint poured himself a cup of black coffee and put a steaming mocha down in front of me. He always knew everyone’s preferred drink and while we all knew how to make our own drinks, it seemed to bring him joy to be make them for us. It was just one of the ways he was too damn perfect.

“I mean- When I made up this fake relationship I didn’t think anyone would find out.” I shrugged, not really ready to meet his eyes yet. I prayed for customers to come in to save me.

“And how were you going to handle the wedding?” It may have been easier if he was angry with me.

“I…”

“You?” He taunted, though his voice lacked any real malice.

“I was going to say you were busy. That you couldn’t make it. I figured I’d say we got into a fight after and broke up.”

“Mhm.”

“You know, since you- fake you couldn’t put me first.”

“I guess you only gave them my name then. I thought maybe I was your dream man but I would never do that to you.” It sounded almost like he was dancing around saying something. Surely I was just reading too much into it.

“No, I didn’t- I don’t think you’d do that. I just- It’s hard to keep up the lie and if they think I’m heartbroken I’ve got peace for a bit.”

“Why did you do it?”

“What?” It took a moment for me to realize what he asked.

“It’s not like you can’t get a real boyfriend.” He shrugged, shoveling the rest of his food into his face.

“I just- It got them off my back.” He was just saying that, surely. I’ve had plenty of dating woes and had yet to find a decent man that wasn’t him.

I explained my family, their old fashioned ideas and constant pressure to find a man. That was the whole point of University to them. It was a place for young women to find men with promise to become their husbands. When I tried to play it off as my lack of creativity that resulted in my imaginary boyfriend having the same name as him, he almost deflated.

There wasn’t time for me to dwell on it however. People began to filter into the shop, keeping first him busy while I finished eating and then both of us. The incident was nearly forgotten by the time I had to grab milk and cream from the back cooler to restock the bar after the lunch rush.

“What are you doing after work?” I about jumped out of my skin when Clint’s voice filled the chilled air.

“Studying. Why? Do you need me to work late, Mr Barton?”

“If I’m your boyfriend, shouldn’t you start calling me ‘Clint’?” I cringed as he laughed.

It was as if he didn’t care if anyone overhead him. Spinning on my heel, gallons of milk in each hand I tried to hush him as threateningly as possible. All it really did was cause my hair to fall in my face from the force of my spin. With no hand free I had no choice but to try to blow the hair out of my eyes. It worked about as well as you can imagine until Clint’s warm fingers brushed the hair to the side, letting me see just how close he was.

“I figured we can plan our trip for Sarah’s wedding.”

“Excuse me?” I stuttered out the words. “Our trip?”

“Yeah. To the lovely Sarah’s wedding. I did tell her I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Now that they have a face and cafe to go with the name, I can’t let you paint me as the selfish boyfriend who can’t take time off for his girl’s sister’s wedding.”

“Can you even take time off for it? Hell, can I?” I motioned toward him halfheartedly with the three gallons of milk gripped in one hand that was starting to cramp up while he portioned out the coffee grounds for the first of the drip coffee machines, seemingly uncaring that he was blocking the way out of the cooler with a task that normally was done outside the chill room.

“I’ve trained y’all well enough to take off for a bit. I just don’t because I have no life.” Finally, he moved and we both made our way to the counter. In the back, Matt was washing dishes. The sound of metal clanking together and water sloshing around drowned out our conversation. Clint shrugged, slipping the filters into place and starting the coffee machine.

“And me?” I ask, slipping the jugs into the small refrigerator under the counter. “You can’t go to the wedding without me.”

“Duh. You’ve got PTO. Consider your request approved.”

“I didn’t request it yet.”

“But you were going to.” He countered and I hated that he was right.  

The grinder kicked on as I rolled my eyes while pulling out pitchers and two small mugs. With lunch rush over and Matt having done most of the clean up, all I had left to do was watch Clint as he worked. It was one of my favorite things, though I would rather die than admit it to him.

He switched off the grinder, he flipped open the catcher and let grounds fall into the espresso pod before scraping it level with the flat end of the tamper, letting the excess fall back into the grounds container. I watched while he used the tamper to compact the grounds within the pod with a twist of his wrist only to pull the tamper out and knock the side of the pod, knocking grounds off the rim and press again.

It was a science, making coffee. One that he was proud of and had spent time teaching every one of his employees. Each knew how the grind should look, how to adjust the grind, how much force the grounds needed to be packed right, how long it should take for the water to pour through the pod and how the shot should look as it’s pouring. Pouring a bad shot of Arrow coffee simply wasn’t acceptable.

Clint clicked the pod into place in the machine, an old semi automatic that regulated the water temperature and how much water was forced through the pod and nothing more. If asked, Clint would lament endlessly about the death of the manual machine and how all the coffee from the large chains always ended up burnt because they simply trusted their machines and didn’t know what espresso should look like and the grind on those fully automated machines couldn’t be adjusted even if someone knew it was off.

He flipped the switch and set the timer. While the numbers ticked down, he leaned back against the counter and set his blue eyes on me. I hated how damned good he looked, bar rag hanging from his back pocket and sleeves pushed up just over his elbows.

“Pick the dates and I’ll arrange everything.”

“What?” I wasn’t sure I heard him right.

“Pick the dates and I’ll book shit.”

“you’ll book shit?”

“Are you a goddamn parrot?” He laughed and I snapped my mouth shut before stammering some sort of response that he simply talked over. “I’m not going to make you buy my plane ticket. Or my hotel room. And it’s cheaper if we book together so, I’ll book shit.”

“I’ll pay you back for-”

“No you won’t.” The timer beeped just as the machine switched off. “Perfect.”

“What?”

“The shot- it poured perfectly.” Clint poured it into the small ceramic cup I had set out for him and grabbed the cinnamon, adding a sprinkle to the top. “You may have gotten yourself into this mess with a dumb lie but I assure you babe, I’ve done dumber shit.”

I blushed and he gave a cocky smile as he raised his cup at me in toast before downing it as the first customer of evening came into the shop with a sprinkling of more hot on their heels. It was time for that weird midday afternoon rush that happened when it was too late to be called ‘lunch’ anymore. For a solid two hours the only time either of them had to chat was with customers while taking their orders. Still the rest of my shift passed with warm smiles and easy jokes passing between us as if he hadn’t just found out he was my imaginary boyfriend a few hours ago.

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G E N E R A L

[ name ]: Catarina Loss [ nicknames ]: Cat, if you must.  [ birthday ]: I know that it was in early to mid August, but keeping track of the date was difficult in those days, and my mother was uneducated. But really, what does it matter? I’m immortal. Birthdays are hardly an occasion.  [ birthplace ]: Lisbon, Portugal [ age ]: Don’t you know that it’s rude to ask a lady her age?  [ eye color ]: Naturally, they’re blue. Under the glamour I usually wear, they’re dark brown. [ height ]: 5″4 [ weight ]: Really? First my age,  and now my weight? I’m fit, according to the BMI index, and since I’m a nurse, I would know. [ nationality ]: That answer to that question is a bit more complicated than it seems. My mother was originally from Africa, but taken to Portugal to be a slave. I was born there. My father, however -- well. He has no nationality, nor do I care. [ astrological sign ]: Leo [ location ]: My apartment in Brooklyn, New York.  [ siblings ]: My mother had no other children. I suppose I could have some half siblings, somewhere, but I have never cared to find out.  [ pets ]: I’m a nurse. Having pet hair all over my clothing would be unhygienic. Besides, I’m never home enough to take care of one. Perhaps when Madzie is older, though! [ in the morning i’m ]: either coming home from a shift at the hospital, or on my way to one. [ all i need is ]: coffee and a great deal of patience.  [ love is ]: the reason we are all here. The love of our parents, the love of each other -- ultimately, it is why I live the way I do, why my life is dedicated to healing and the daughter I’ve adopted.  [ i’m afraid of ]: loss. Being unable to protect Madzie. Failing at the job I’ve chosen. I’m afraid of many things, but the centuries have taught me to live despite these fears.  [ i dream about ]: Usually? Camping trips far away from civilization. 

H A V E . Y O U . E V E R ?

[pictured your crush naked?] Oh, for heaven’s sake. Yes. I suppose I have. [ used someone? ]: I have lived for a long time, and I have made mistakes. Yes. I have.  [ been used? ]: Yes.  [ been cheated on? ]: Technically, I suppose so. But I was not invested in the relationship, and he knew it -- so I’m not sure he can be blamed for that decision. [ considered cheating? ]: No. If i don’t want to be in a relationship any longer, I end it. [ been kissed? ]: I am not a nun, so. Yes.  [ done something you regret? ]: Can anyone live for as long as I have without regrets? I find it unlikely. 

F A V O R I T E

[ food? ]: Lately, I’ve been rather partial to Kung Pao chicken.  [ fruit? ]:  Apples. [ candy? ]: Snickers. I eat an embarrassing amount of them from the vending machine in the hospital break room.  [ color? ]: Embarrassingly enough, I’m partial to blue. [ number? ]: I can honestly say I have never had a favorite number. [ animal? ]: Doves. The symbolism behind them is rather beautiful. [ drink? ]: Coffee. Or craft beer, depending on the circumstance. [ soda? ]: Coke. [ book? ]: The Princess Bride. Harlequin romances. [ room? ]: My living room. Or Ragnor’s office, though I certainly wouldn’t tell him that! [ movie? ]: Gone With the Wind

D O . Y O U ?

[ have a boyfriend/girlfriend? ]: No.  [ like cleaning? ]: Absolutely not. For that, I use magic. [ have a tattoo? ]: No.  [ have any piercings? ]: My ears are pierced.  [ cheat on tests/homework? ]: I never had a formalized education, so I never really had the opportunity.  [ drink/smoke? ]: Drink, yes. Smoke? That’s a repulsive habit, even if I am immortal and cannot die from lung cancer. [ swear a lot? ]: I suppose that would depend on your definition of ‘a lot.’ I try to keep it to a minimum around Madzie. [ like watching sunrises or sunset? ]: If I have the time, yes.  [ pray? ]: Not in a long time.  [ go to church? ]: No. [ have secrets? ]: No, of course not. No secrets at all.  [ have a best friend? ]: Magnus Bane or Ragnor Fell -- I refuse to even attempt to pick between them. Magnus would pout for ages, and Ragnor would become even more prickly.  [ like your own handwriting? ]: I may not be a doctor, but my handwriting tends to resemble that of one, unfortunately.

A R E . Y O U ?

[ obsessive? ]: Does anyone admit readily to being obsessive? I suppose some people may think my dedication to healing is obsessive, but it isn’t. [ excited? ]: Under the right circumstances! [ bored? ]: I live with a five year old, and have a high pressure job. When do I have time to be bored? [ happy? ]: Most days.  [ missing someone? ]: Always. [ confused? ]: Only when discussing fashion with Magnus. [ tired? ]: Again, I live with a five year old and work in a hospital. What do you think? [ mad? ]: At this moment? No. [ sleepy? ]: Are sleepy and tired two different things now? I’m not answering this twice.

D O . Y O U . E V E R ?

[ wait around just to talk to someone? ]: I’m not a teenaged girl, so no. [ write about those ‘special’ moments? ]: No.  [ wish you were a member of the opposite sex? ]: I used to, frequently. Men could become doctors, officially, and had many more opportunities in the medical field. I am happy with where I am, now, but I would have liked the opportunity to do something different.

W H O . W A S . T H E . L A S T . P E R S O N . W H O ?

[ you talked to? ]: Magnus -- he called to check in an hour or so ago. [ you hugged? ]: Madzie, before bed. [ you kissed? ]: Also Madzie, on the forehead, after I tucked her in. [ sent you a letter? ]: Do fire messages count? I believe that was Tessa. [ you sent a letter to? ]: A response to Tessa, most likely. [ you laughed with? ]: One of the other nurses. Humor in the ER is always important. [ slept in your bed? ]: Madzie, after a nightmare. [ you shared a drink with? ]:  Does Magnus stealing sips of my wine count? [ you went to the movies with? ]: I have no idea. I haven’t seen a movie in a theater in a very long time. [ yelled at you? ]: Ah, a parent of a patient I could not save. The girl was only thirteen, and her mother was distraught. I didn’t blame her for yelling. [ you called? ]: The babysitter, to be sure she was still able to watch Madzie during my shift today. [ you kicked? ]: I haven’t kicked anyone in recent memory -- is that something that people normally do? [ you saw? ]: Madzie, before I put her to bed.

W H O . I S ?

[ the most handsome person you know? ]: Hm. I’ve always thought that Ragnor was rather nice to look at.  [ the weirdest person you know? ]: Most certainly Magnus. [ the funniest person you know? ]: I think I’ll award that one to Simon Lewis. [ the loudest person you know? ]: That would be my darling daughter, after she has had a chance to warm up to everyone in the room.   [ the quietest person you know? ]: Tessa, maybe? [ the sweetest person you know? ]: Though she has been gone for many years, this title will always go to my mother -- a woman who risked her life every day for eighteen years to look after a blue, magical child. [ the most serious person you know? ]: Ragnor, I expect. [ your best friend? ]: Again? I still refuse to pick between the two of them. [ the person you hate the most? ]: Valentine Morganstern. If what he did to the Downworld was not enough, what he did to Madzie would have put him at the top of that list on its own. [ the person you see most? ]: Madzie. [ your soul-mate? ]: I don’t believe in this nonsense.

W H A T . I S ?

[ the first thing you thought of when you woke up? ]: Madzie - she was bouncing at the edge of my mattress! [ the song that best describes you? ]: This one. [ your best feature? ]: I’m rather partial to my hair.  [ your most treasured memory? ]: When I was very young, my mother took me to the river near our home. It was always just the two of us -- this was long before I knew what a glamour was, let alone how to use one -- but I got to leave the cottage, and was able to run around and chase after butterflies while my mother watched. I treasure all of the time I spent with her, but these memories are some of my favorites.

I N . T H E . F U T U R E

[ what is the age you hope to get married? ]: I hardly thing age is the important factor in that decision. [ number and names of kids? ]: I have raised a child already, and his name was Aurelio, and now I have Madzie. I can’t say that I will never take in another, though I’m fairly content now. [ where do you see yourself at age twenty? ]: Oh, for the love of --  [ describe your dream wedding? ]: I have no idea. I’ve given up on dreaming of such things, for the most part. [ when and how do you want to die? ]: This is a fairly morbid question! I suppose I’d like to die peacefully, somehow.  [ what are your career plans? ]: I’ve been a healer for hundreds of years, and don’t plan on changing that anytime soon. [ some place you’d like to visit? ]: I’d like to return to Portugal, someday. I always enjoy London, as well. 

L A S T . T I M E

[ last time you went out of state? ]: The last time I went hiking with Ragnor, before his death. [ last time you were outside? ]: On my way home from the hospital this evening. [ last time you had a snowball fight? ]: I don’t think I ever have! [ last time you were listening to music? ]: I have jazz playing now, actually.

O T H E R

[ how many people would you say are good friends of yours? ]: Friends that are still alive? 2.  [ what hurts the most, physical or emotional pain? ]: Emotional.  [ have you felt this recently? ]: Grief is the worst sort of emotional pain, and we have all suffered loss, lately. [ what do you wear to bed? ]: sweats, usually. [ when’s the last time you slept with a stuffed animal? ]: Madzie brought her bear to bed last time she had a nightmare and climbed in with me, so then, I guess. [ have you ever used a ouija board? ]: No. I prefer not to interact with the spiritual realm. [ how many rings before you pick up the phone? ]: Admittedly, I’m awful at answering the phone. Usually, it rings until it goes to voicemail, and I have to call back later.

Professional Boyfriend - Gay Romance Novel chapter 4: Shawn

Shawn was wearing a v-neck and a black leather jacket. There was a thin gold chain around his neck. His left ear was pierced, a tiny diamond earring. I felt awkward asking him this, but I simply needed to know: "How did you become a" I didn’t even have to finish the question. He knew what I needed to know. "Rent boy? I'm not a hooker. I'm a professional boyfriend. There's no sex. It's a date." I raised my eyebrows. "But you pretend to be people's boyfriend for money. Is it just guys or" He grinned. "No. It's open-ended. Could be guys, could be girls. I've gone out with people of any age. From 18-year-old girls who want to impress their frenemies by bringing me as their prom date, or 70-year-old single ladies who want to prove their ex-husbands they can also get a young thing to go out with them for their money." I was stunned. "Sounds like an interesting life. Don't you feel bad, having to pretend to be in love with someone you barely know?" He looked confident, the subject didn't phase him. "I travel around the world. I’m very well compensated. I make more money than I have time to spend. They pay for everything. I meet interesting people, they tell me their stories, I know then better than the people in their lives. They usually treat me with respect, most of the time. Every now and then I get someone who doesn’t understand the rules and who tries to make things seem like more than they are. I’m proud of what I do.”

He continued.

“Why should I be ashamed? I didn't make the rules, I just follow them. I need the money. I like it. I make people feel good. I kiss them when they need to be kissed, and I help them feel better about themselves. It's not about faking it, it's about giving them something they can't get anywhere else. I understand your reluctance, what's your reason for being here today? Why did you want to hire a professional boyfriend?" I took a deep breath. "My mom invited my ex-fiancé for Christmas. Here's bringing his girlfriend.” He didn’t show any reaction. "That's horrible. Your mom shouldn't have done that.” It felt good to be understood. "Thanks for saying that. And to make matters worse, I told her I have a boyfriend.” "So we'd have to come up with a story. How did we meet?" I raised my eyebrows. "I haven't agreed to anything yet. Do you usually do this, meeting prospecting clients at hip gay bars?" He looked around. "This place isn't very hip. I don’t do this usually, but I could tell you needed some convincing. I think we should do this. Most people are in the second they look at my profile picture. What happened with your fiancé? He's bisexual. Did he dump you for this new girlfriend?" I felt reluctant, I haven't told many people the details of what happened between Daniel Chase and me. "He got cold feet. He did dump for someone else, a male paralegal. They went on our honeymoon together" "Then why did your mom invite him for dinner?" I finished my beer. "Because we're neighbors. Our families always spend Christmas together, and she wanted to keep the tradition going." "That's bound to get awkward. You shouldn't show up alone. I could help you feel a bit more comfortable. And don't think I'm doing this just for the money. You need someone there." I shook my head. "But this is a bit drastic. I don't want to have to fake all weekend.” He had a calm way of speaking. He seemed to have gone through this before. "Sure. But it's better than letting him win. You two are playing a game. He wants to prove he's moved on, and so do you. You show up with a good looking guy, he shows up with this new girl." We remained silent for a moment. There were a couple of bear cubs making out a few feet from us. "I'm not drunk enough to say yes." "If you don't do this, he's gonna think you haven't moved on. Which I can tell is true." I raised my eyebrows. "How can you tell that? You don't know me." "It's written all over your face. That night we went clubbing, you were alone. You probably spend your nights thinking about him. I get it. It's not easy to move on from a relationship. How long were the two of you together?" "Ten years, on and off" "You need to teach him a lesson. This is revenge we're talking about" "Revenge? That sounds a bit drastic.” "Hey, you want it. What does he do?" "He's a lawyer. He works at this very important company in Manhattan" "Probably a frat douche.” "He wasn't in a frat, but he is a douche.” "He's your total opposite, isn't he?" "I guess, yeah." "Show me a picture.” "I don't have it on my phone.” "Tell me his name.” "Daniel Chase" He grabbed his phone and I looked at my empty beer as he did his research. "Happiness is a girl. What an asshole! He's trying to rub it in your face. He knows you're stalking him.” My jaw dropped. "I'm not stalking him. Maybe just a little." "If we're gonna do this, you need to start being honest with yourself. Which you aren't. You're in denial about a lot of things. Do you still love him?" I looked away for a second, searching inside myself for the truth. "I think I do. I'm not sure. If I see him again, I will know." "You don't love him. You just haven't forgotten him. It's not healthy to spend your time idealizing the time you spent together." "I'm not idealizing. I'm remembering." "You got blinders on. You seem like very incompatible people. And that's what you like about him. You're each other's prizes. He wasn't right for you, didn't treat you very nicely, and you wanted to show him you could make him fall in love with you.” I rolled my eyes. "Drop the drug store psychology, ok? You don't know anything about it.” "I know what I see. A nerdy guy and a jock." "So we're stereotypes?" "You're people. And the two of you together, the pictures don't lie. There's an attraction there. But he was kinda reluctant about your relationship, and that made you insecure. Give me a minute, ok? I gotta take a look at these pictures of the two of you together.” He scrolled down and I went to the bar and asked for a shot of vodka. I finished it in a second and sat down again. "You gained some weight during the last few months you were together. You were eating as a coping mechanism. You knew he was gonna get cold feet. You should've said no when he proposed." "How was I supposed to know that, I thought he loved me." "It's ok. We all make mistakes. But the biggest mistake of them all is lying to yourself. His body language says he wasn't in it for the long haul. He always put some distance between the two of you." "How can you be sure?" "I know what you told me. And if the two of you were that compatible, you would be together right now, and you wouldn't be here talking to me." "But he asked me to marry him. That's gotta mean something." "It means he bought a ring. Getting engaged doesn't solve relationship problems. Was he a cheater?" I blushed. This was getting too personal. "You're out of line, buddy. Do you really need to know all this stuff?" "This stuff is crucial, Matt. I want to know the nature of your relationship." "Let's keep it professional. You don't need to know the kind of underwear he wore." "I don't need to ask you that, I saw it on his Instagram. You were an adorable couple, don't get me wrong." "That's kinda patronizing." "It's the truth." I frowned. "Why are you so interested in this?" He shook his head. "I'm not. I'm interested in you." Hearing that made me very nervous. "Why?" "Because I think you deserve better." "How do you know that?" "Your eyes. There's a sadness there. And It's like you're holding your breath all the time. Relax. You don't have to overthink every little detail.” "Who are you to judge?" "It's not judging, Matt. It's a conversation. We could sit here and tell each other bullshit that neither of us believes. You could tell me about your job, or your hobbies. That's not what makes a person. If we're in a relationship, even if it's a fake one, we're gonna need some level of honesty." I stopped to think for a second. The fact that he was so handsome made it a little distracting. “Are you ready to move on?" I breathe out. "Yeah. I am. What our story? What are we gonna tell my parents? You seem better at this stuff." "I will tell them I'm a doctor. Your parents will love that." "That sounds good.” "And it's Christmas, so I will give them a present. I will give them enough frequent flier miles to travel anywhere." "You don't have to do that" "I'm always traveling for work. I just got back from Hong Kong. I have to go around the globe ten times. No big deal." "That's very generous of you, thank you." "I'm covering our tracks. You're a very nervous guy, they'll be suspicious. You need to learn how to hide your emotions, Matt." I looked away. "Am I that obvious?" "We're all a little more transparent than we like to believe. Your parents know you better than anybody else." "I don't know if that's true. If my mother knew me she wouldn't have invited my fiancé." "She knows you." He finished his Tequila Sunrise. I couldn’t stop looking at his face. He was incredibly pretty. "Matt, there's something else you need to understand. Don't fall in love with me. You're vulnerable right now, and just because a guy pays you attention, doesn't mean you have to hallucinate." I felt a little insulted. "I don't hallucinate. And I'm can control my emotions when I need to." I was starting to sweat. The way he looked at me, it was like he could see right through my soul. I stared at his mouth. I was trying not to think about kissing him. "We're gonna have a good time. What do you say, am I hired?" "Yes. You are." I said with a smile. "Cheers to that. Excuse me." He bought another round and I was left with my thoughts. This was crazy. I never thought I would hire someone to be my fake boyfriend. But I could get used to Shawn. It surprised me how OK I was with the idea. Maybe it was just that he was so cool and handsome. "There we go. Let's toast." I licked my lips and raised my glass. "To what are we toasting?" "To my wonderful new friend. And to our entirely fake relationship. Here's to happy couple, Matt and Shawn." We said this in unison: "To Matt and Shawn!" Our glasses clicked and then we took a sip of our drinks. Afterward, he excused himself to the bathroom and my phone started vibrating in my pocket. I looked at the screen. Unbelievable. It was Daniel again. I didn't pick it up this time. I knew he had nothing to say. "I have to go. I will help you get to a cab." We were standing on the sidewalk and he hugged me. My whole body shook when he grabbed my chin and looked deep into my eyes. We’ve never been closer. "If we're gonna be a couple, we need to have a first kiss. What do you say?" I tried to control my body. "That sounds good." "How is this?" He leaned over and our lips met for the first time. He put his hand on my back and I tried hard not to let him notice how much I wanted him. "You're a smoker." "I'm trying to quit." "You have very sexy lips." I blushed. "You're just saying that." He looked absolutely sure of himself. "I'm not. It the truth. When someone pays you a compliment, just say thank you. You don't have to be so modest." He kissed me again. This time, his tongue caressed my tongue. "You see? I didn't have to do that. But your lips are very soft, I like kissing you." His words echoed through my brain as he hailed me a cab. I got in, and he shook my hand. "Text me the details. And learn the rules. No personal information, no sex and I never date my clients. Understood?" My voice cracked as I answered. "Understood." He closed the door and I took one last look at him. I could still smell his cologne all over my clothes. I rested my head against the window and watched as the car drove me further and further away from my professional boyfriend. My heart was beating too fast. Crap, I was in love again. And this time, it was even more forbidden than the last one.

Want more? Get it at:

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/professional-boyfriend-justine-cox/1134093992?ean=2940163609994

https://books.apple.com/us/book/id1483684046

First Meeting - Killing Stalking Oneshot

Just a oneshot. I was thinking how they might have met if Sangwoo was an Alpha and Bum an omega and this was the end result.

A/N: Youtube is to blame for getting me sucked into this fandom after I was looking at the song Killing Me Softly and I kept seeing these Killing Stalking comments. Then of course I had to search for it and after seeing a fanvid with the Animal song cover that was it, I was sadly trapped Although it’s actually amazing too because I LOVE this fandom.   DISCLAIMER: Just another obsessed fan of Killing Stalking, own nothing.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           My parents had died when I was little. They left me in the care of my uncle. He never really liked me, but he did lust after me. However, he knew that if one day I found an Alpha, they would know what he had done. Laws were more lenient on Alphas, and my uncle did not have a death wish. I was an omega, and so it was natural that I was short for my age but I was also very thin. My uncle kept me on a strict diet. I never had breakfast and only two small meals at midday and in the evening. He had the idea that my waif-like appearance would appeal more to Alphas and he also despised spending any money looking after me. My uncle was looking forward to the day an Alpha would claim me so he would not have the burden of looking after me. I was already in my twenties, and so far no Alphas had shown any interest in me. I had never fit in anywhere. Everyone thought I was weird. It did not help that a doctor had diagnosed me as having borderline multiple personality disorder. My uncle constantly and cruelly reminded me there was nothing that could be done about how plain I was compared to other omegas. I was pale, and rarely slept well, leaving dark circles around my eyes which were very big and dark brown. My jet black hair hung over my eyes, although it was shorter in the back. I had some faint memories of when I was a young boy, playing with the neighbour’s son, who was a few years older than me. He had always been kind to me. I remember he wore glasses and had dark hair but I had forgotten what his face looked like and I could not remember his name. I was sad that I had not even been able to tell him goodbye when my uncle had taken me away from the home I had shared with my parents. As I was growing up, I had hoped that one day I would find my only childhood friend and he would bond with me. However, I knew this was just a fantasy that would not come true. Even if he did meet me again, why would he even want a pathetic omega like myself? Eventually I just stopped thinking about him. It was just easier that way. My first day at college was the day I met my future Alpha, Oh Sangwoo. Of course, he never noticed me but somehow I had the peculiar feeling he was still aware of my presence. He was perfect. Popular, handsome, tall, strong, an Alpha. The complete opposite to me. He had dark brown hair, cut short in the back but the top was wavy and dyed a light brown colour. It was bold, and not a hairstyle that could suit everyone but of course the hairstyle suited him. After that day, I became obsessed with him. I would follow him around, watching him when he was at college or meeting up his friends or girlfriends. Sangwoo was well known on campus, friendly with everyone he met. Betas and omegas alike all fell under his charm like magic. He had an enticing scent, it was like dark bitter chocolate and honey. We were both sitting in the college cafeteria when he looked at me for the first time, his dark eyes resting on me in a stare that seemed to pierce right through me. I felt unworthy of his look, and guilty because somehow it felt like he knew I had been stalking him. I wanted to look away, but I felt trapped under his gaze. Then he smiled at me, a slow, confident smile. I had then run out of the cafeteria, my face flushed red with embarrassment. He had actually noticed me, and now I was not sure how to feel. It was one thing when he did not know I existed but now he knew I was not sure what to do. I did not want him to catch me snooping on him. I had been trying to find a way to sneak into his house. I had actually picked up the nerve to go there and I had written a list of all the possible key code combinations for his door after finding out the keys he pressed on a daily basis. However, I had seen a cop car driving past the house and that had freaked me out. I did not want to explain what I was doing so I had quickly left even though I did not think the cops had even noticed me. When I got home that night I was shocked to find Sangwoo in the living room. He was sitting opposite my uncle, on the old faded couch. My uncle’s small apartment was shabby, and had been a horrible pigsty before I had come to live there. I kept the apartment clean and tidy but the years of neglect from the landlord and previous tenants still showed. I felt very ashamed at that moment. Sangwoo was dressed in jeans and a blazer over a t-shirt – he always looked stylish, although I had the feeling he would look good in any clothing. He did not look like he fit into the surroundings. When he saw me he stood up, giving me a half smile. “Yoon Bum, finally you are home. Your uncle has agreed that you can come and live with me.” “What?” I replied dumbly, not sure what else to say. “Come on, Bum, I’ve already packed your stuff for you,” Sangwoo indicated a plastic rubbish bag and shrugged in an almost apologetic way. “Your uncle says he doesn’t have any suitcases, so it was the next best thing.” I was confused and also horrified by the fact he had been in my room. That he had seen the photo of him I had torn out from the college newspaper and taped onto my wall. That I had stolen one of his pens that had been a gift from one of his girlfriends “Quickly, go before he changes his mind!” My uncle exclaimed, his hand reaching out to grab my arm but then he hesitated as Sangwoo’s eyes bored into him with a fierce, animalistic glare. “Oh, right, right. Sorry.” “I think it will be better if you make yourself scare so I can talk privately to Bum,” Sangwoo went over to the door of the apartment and waited for my uncle to leave, slamming the door behind him. “Bum...I got so excited seeing you just now that I did not even tell you why I want you to move in with me...” He walked over to stand in front of me, reaching up one hand to ruffle my hair. “You see, I know you like me and I have to tell you, you’re very bad at stalking.” “I never – ” “Shut up,” Sangwoo snapped, then his tone became soft and friendly again. “I don’t want you to lie to me, Bum. That’s not the best way to start our relationship, is it?” I hung my head in shame, my hair falling in front of my eyes. “I’m sorry, Sangwoo,” I felt his hand on my chin, lifting my face up. “You don’t want me as your omega. I don’t deserve to have an Alpha like you. Look at me, I...I’m nothing special. And...I don’t know if my uncle told you but I have a condition. I’m ill. I would just be a burden to you...” I sighed heavily. “Besides, you have so many pretty girlfriends. I’ve never seen you with any guys.  If you really want to mate, you have your pick of omega girls to choose from, so why choose a male omega? Especially one like me?” “I know about your condition. When your uncle told me about it, it made sense. Also...I wanted you even more after he told me that. Yes, I have had girlfriends but they are all passing amusements to me. I was never ready to commit to a mating bond until I met you. There’s just something very special about you, Bum,” Sangwoo suddenly wrapped me in a warm embrace, so I was pressed right up against his chest and enveloped in his scent. He buried his face in my hair, inhaling deeply before holding me away from him. “You smell so good. It reminds me of my childhood. Rainy days spent indoors with my mother, and her favourite fruit, strawberries,” A sad expression flashed across his face, so briefly I was not sure if I had really seen it. Sangwoo was the cheerful type, I had never seen him get angry at anyone or be sad before. “I know this seems strange to you, Bum. However, I think we were meant to meet each other and be together. I just decided to speed up the process, but if I had not come to you I’m sure you would have come to meet me one day.” He released his hold on me. “This is a lot to take in, so if you need a few days to think about it, that’s fine. I can leave but I’ll just keep coming back until you accept me.” I bit my lip. He started walking to the door, with slow, measured steps. After he opened the door, he stopped and turned back, looking at me briefly before he left the apartment. I stood still for a few minutes, my mind and my heart having an intense debate about what to do next. It was odd that he was showing interest in me. We did not have anything in common, to my knowledge. We were still practically strangers but I wanted to know him inside and out. I wanted to know everything about him. I knew I should be happy, and I was but yet I still did not understand why he wanted me. It was like a dream come true, except I had never dreamed of such an outcome for Sangwoo and I. He was so perfect and I felt inferior to him. Still, he was willing to tie himself to me permanently, even after knowing how messed up I was inside. I could not let him go, so I chased after him. I got down two flights of stairs and I was out on the streets in the open air, looking around wildly to see if I could see him. I was relieved when I saw him getting inside a car. “SANGWOO!” I yelled, running over to his car. “There’s no need to shout, Bum,” Sangwoo replied, giving me a playful smile. “I knew you would come. Didn’t you forget something?” It was then that I remembered the rubbish bag filled with my belongings. In my panic to catch Sangwoo before he left I had completely forgotten about the bag. “My clothes....” I started to turn back but Sangwoo rested his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. You can borrow my clothes for now, I’ll come back for your stuff another day.” He slipped his hand into mine and pulled me around to the passenger door on his car. “Get in,” He commanded sternly, the grin on his face offsetting the harsh tone I had heard in his command. When I sat down in the car, he leaned across me and latched my seat buckle in place firmly. “There, now you’re safe.” For a moment I thought he was going to kiss me, my heart jumping a little at the thought. We were close enough to kiss, I could feel his hot breath on my face and his eyes were trained on my lips but to my disappointment he pulled away from me and got into the car on the other side. It did not take long to reach his apartment. He lived in a quiet neighbourhood, and I had not seen many other occupants on his street when I had visited before. “What do you think?” Sangwoo asked as he pushed open his gate, and held my hand again as we walked up the stairs together. “It’s a nice house, isn’t it?” “Yeah, it is.” I replied, giving him a tentative smile. “It suits you, Sangwoo.” “It’s our home now,” Sangwoo squeezed my hand gently before he let go and quickly keyed in his door code. After he shut the door behind us, he gave me a brief smile that did not seem to reach his eyes. “You were very close to guessing the code, by the way.” “What?!” I exclaimed, my eyes getting wider than usual. “How did you know about that?” “What?” Sangwoo mocked me. “You keep saying that,” He rested his hands on my shoulders. “I hope you’re not going to repeat yourself all the time. It would be really annoying. I should be upset with you, but I understand why you did it so I won’t punish you.” He sounded like a teacher scolding a student all of a sudden, but then he switched back to his usual genial tone. “Anyway, let me give you a house tour, Bum...” I was taken around all the rooms in his modest, nice home. There were two bedrooms, and for a few moments my mind flashed with images of a little cot and a baby. It was just part of my nature as an omega. I was on heat suppressants but Sangwoo would eventually want me to come off them. I did not feel ready for a baby yet, so I hoped he would not mind letting me continue to use the heat suppressants for a while. Once we bonded, I would not have much of a say in things if that was what he wanted. The bond would hold both of us captive, but me more so than him. It would be very hard to disobey Sangwoo; the omega drive to please Alphas was strongest after they had bonded. It was a little worrying, but Sangwoo was so nice to me. How could anything go wrong between us? Thanks for reading