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storytellerofuntoldlegends · 3 years

Text

an icarus and his sun: chapter 6

A/N: seeing y'all freak out over the last chapter when i have the outline and i know that things get worse... it feels me with evil glee. also vyeoh drew some amazing art of the last chapter, show them some love!! <3

Warnings: crying, hugging, arguing, threats of violence, heartbreak

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

Jimmy still felt like he was in a daze when they made it back to his empire. Lizzie hadn’t let go of his hand once, and he was grateful for the grounding touch. She was still murmuring words of comfort and asking what happened, but Jimmy could only nod numbly. Every single thought and feeling he had of Scott felt tainted now. Was anything he had felt even real? Or did Jimmy just fall right for Scott’s plan (whatever it was) hook, line, and sinker. Just thinking about it made Jimmy feel nauseous.

Katherine and Joel landed beside Jimmy and Lizzie, and Katherine looking equally as distraught as Jimmy felt shook him out of his stupor slightly. Wordlessly he let go of Lizzie’s hand to pull Katherine into a hug. He held her tight as she hugged him back, crying into his shoulder.

“It’s gone. It’s all gone. There’s barely anything left of my castle,” she hiccuped. Jimmy didn’t know what to say as he held her, but gently rubbing her back seemed to help.

“Fwhip was plotting against the House Blossom Alliance the whole time, Sausage too. I think Gem, Pearl, and Scott were involved as well,” Joel explained. Jimmy just about shuddered at the mention of Scott, trying not to cry.

“Why would they do that?!” Lizzie gasped.

“Fwhip said something about how the alliance was too argumentative, and should be destroyed before anything worse could happen and bring down our empires,” Joel explained. Katherine let out another hiccupping sob at Joel’s words, and Jimmy murmured words of comfort to her. Then he looked up to the skies, and his heart froze. Three figures were flying towards them- one with elytra, one with bright yellow feathered wings, and one with white feathered wings tipped in gold. Joel noticed Gem, Pearl, and Scott in the air as well, and grit his teeth as he put a hand on the hilt of his sword. Lizzie rushed over and put a hand over Joel’s, shaking her head.

“Stay on guard, but let’s hear them out. We only know that Fwhip and Sausage were the masterminds behind this. But if they are here for trouble, we’ll make sure they regret it,” Lizzie said, tone going dark at the end of her statement. Joel hesitated for a moment or two, but dropped his hand from his sword with a frustrated sigh. He and Lizzie did, however, stand protectively in front of Jimmy and Katherine as Gem, Pearl, and Scott came to a landing in front of them. Jimmy let go of Katherine, but she didn’t go far, taking his hand and gripping it tightly.

“I know we’re not high on your list of people to see, but hear us out. We didn’t know that Fwhip was going to take such… drastic measures,” Pearl explained, hands up placatingly as her wings fluttered anxiously.

“But you did know Fwhip was up to something,” Joel countered.

“We knew he wasn’t super happy about the House Blossom Alliance, but we thought that he would just pull a harmless prank or pick a fight with Jimmy or something. Not destroy Katherine’s castle,” Gem continued, Pearl nodding along with her. Scott stayed suspiciously quiet, and Jimmy’s mouth settled into a firm line as he let go of Katherine’s hand.

“But Scott knew. Didn’t you,” he accused, glaring at Scott. His expression immediately turned guilty, and that was all the confirmation Jimmy needed.

“I wanted to tell you, really! But-”

“But you kissed me instead of telling me or ANYONE about Fwhip’s plan!” Jimmy shouted, stepping forward and gesturing angrily, that cold numb feeling from before now replaced with molten fury. Lizzie gasped, drawing her sword and fully intending to lunge at Scott, but Joel quickly scrambled over to hold her back.

“Joel, let go of me, I need to give Scott a piece of my mind for taking advantage of our sweet swamp boy’s heart!” Lizzie fumed, straining against Joel’s hold. Joel glared at Scott, but his grip on Lizzie didn’t let up.

“Scott, you better have an explanation for this, or I will let my wife loose on you,” Joel warned. Scott actually looked a little terrified, and part of Jimmy hated the fact that he was relieved at that.

“I should have warned people about the TNT, I know. I just- it was stupid of me to hope that Fwhip was going to change his mind. And I was going to tell Jimmy, but then I saw Fwhip in the distance, and he had his crossbow aimed at him. I- I figured that Fwhip wouldn’t take the shot if it meant hitting me too. So that’s why I kissed Jimmy, and by that point it was too late to warn anyone,” Scott explained, his expression pleading and apologetic. Joel and Lizzie seemed to accept his explanation, as Joel let go of Lizzie and she sheathed her sword- but they both still glared at him. And Jimmy wanted to believe him, wanted to say he forgave Scott and rush back into his arms again- but there was something else that bothered him.

“What did Fwhip mean, when he said something about ‘playing the part?’” Jimmy asked, absolutely terrified of the answer but needing to know the truth anyway. Scott swallowed nervously, expression overcome with guilt once more.

“Fwhip told me to keep an eye on you, make sure you wouldn’t be a problem. It wasn’t just Katherine goading me into being nice that kept me coming to your empire, at first. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t-”

“Leave,” Jimmy growled, having enough of Scott’s excuses. Scott flinched at Jimmy’s tone. Good, it was about time people stopped seeing him as the sweet swamp boy or the friendly Codfather. He was done being pushed around, done being used and tossed aside.

“Jimmy, please- believe me, I really do care-”

“I don’t wanna hear it! I’m sick of your lies and manipulation! I never want you to set foot in the Cod Empire again, if I ever even SEE you again I will make sure you regret it,” Jimmy shouted, the words fracturing his heart into a million pieces. But he couldn’t afford to trust Scott ever again.

“Jimmy…” Scott trailed off, any fight finally leaving him as his wings drooped. His gaze shifted between Jimmy’s angry glare, the tears on Katherine’s face, the glares from Lizzie and Joel, and the sympathetic and apologetic expressions on Gem and Pearl’s faces. He looked back at Jimmy one last time, eyes glassy- before taking off into the night sky. Jimmy couldn’t even watch him leave.

“We truly are sorry for everything that happened. We know it doesn’t make up for it… but we wish you the best, Codfather and allies,” Gem said softly, before taking off into the sky as well. Pearl gave them a weak smile before following Gem. Jimmy waited until he could no longer see either of them in the sky, and finally let himself cry, falling to his knees as ugly sobs wrenched their way out of his throat. Lizzie scrambled to his side, pulling him into a hug and letting Jimmy cry into her shoulder.

“It’s okay, let it out. I’ve got you,” she soothed.

“He tricked me. And like a fool I fell for it, I fell for him,” Jimmy said between sobs, desperately clutching at Lizzie. Joel came over to kneel at their side, pulling both of them into his arms and rubbing Jimmy’s back. Katherine joined the hug pile too, on the opposite side of Joel. Jimmy wasn’t sure how long the three of them all stayed there with him, but they all held him until he finally had no tears left to cry.

After Jimmy had finished crying, Lizzie gently prodded him into changing, insisting that he would feel better in his normal clothes. She was right, and a lot of the tension drained from his shoulders once his trusty cod head was back on his head. From there, Lizzie and Joel brought him and Katherine to Lizzie’s empire, saying that Katherine could stay in the embassy she built, and that neither of them wanted either one to be alone at the moment. Katherine and Jimmy didn’t argue, neither of them wanted to be alone either. So they ended up huddled together in Katherine’s embassy, a borrowed blanket from Lizzie over both of their shoulders. Lizzie stayed with them and made sure they were comfortable, while Joel flew to Pixandria to update Pixl on everything that had happened.

“This is all my fault,” Katherine said numbly, after a long silence. Jimmy and Lizzie looked at her in confusion.

“It’s really not, you didn’t blow up your own castle, after all,” Lizzie pointed out. Katherine smiled weakly, shaking her head.

“But none of this would have happened if I didn’t insist on making friends with everyone. Everyone would have been fine if I just stayed out of it and stopped trying to bring people together,” Katherine said, voice watery.

“Katherine, if you hadn’t tried to bring us all together, I’m sure much worse would have happened. Who knows how many empires would have been destroyed if it wasn’t for you,” Jimmy countered softly. Katherine let out a small sob, hand clasping over her mouth as she tried to collect herself.

“But if I hadn’t started those meetings, pushed you and Scott to be nice to each other- then you wouldn’t have to be feeling this way,” Katherine said, voice as fragile as glass when she dropped her hand from her mouth. Jimmy shifted to face her, gently gripping her shoulders and looking Katherine in the eyes.

“Katherine, listen to me. My- my heartbreak is not your fault. None of what is happening is your fault. If anyone’s to blame, it’s Fwhip. You hear me?” Jimmy asked, voice gentle but no less serious. Katherine’s eyes went wide.

“You’re heartbroken?” she asked in a shallow gasp. Jimmy gave her a sad smile, throat growing tight as he felt his eyes watering again- funny, he thought he had run out of tears.

“I learned what love was, only for it to get crushed barely a day or two after. So… yeah. I think I am. But that still doesn’t make it your fault,” Jimmy said, tone forlorn before it turned gentle and serious once more. Katherine let out a shaky sigh, nodding her head.

“Okay. Okay. I’m still sorry you’re feeling this way, though,” Katherine said softly. Jimmy just smiled, pulling Katherine into a hug.

“So what’s our next step? Plotting our revenge on Fwhip?” Lizzie asked, and Jimmy couldn’t help but chuckle at her casual ruthlessness.

“I think before we do anything revenge-related, we should help Katherine rebuild her castle,” Jimmy replied, frankly not wanting to think about getting revenge on Fwhip, because that would likely lead to getting revenge on Scott as well. And Jimmy definitely didn’t want to think about Scott at the moment.

“I don’t know if you’re the best person to help me build,” Katherine teased lightly. Jimmy gave her a weak smile in response.

“I think I’ll be able to manage if you’re guiding me,” he replied softly.

“I would definitely appreciate the help,” she said with a smile, and it was the first time Jimmy had seen her smile, truly smile since the ball.

“Then I’ll help, mediocre building skills or not,” Jimmy insisted, glad to have something to look forward to so he could think about anything other than Scott. He was done with him, no matter what his traitorous heart thought about his sunshine smile, his laugh of gold, or those icy blue eyes that contradicted them both. So much about Scott felt like a contradiction, now. He snarled and teased and jabbed, but there was a hidden fondness too, or at least it seemed like there was. Jimmy wasn’t sure if it was ever real to begin with. Then there was how he sided with Fwhip, even though Katherine was his true ally, a business partner too. Nothing made sense, and Jimmy wondered if he should have let Scott explain- no. Jimmy was never going to give Scott a chance to use that silver tongue on him again, paired with a smile that was only gold-plated. He wouldn’t be hurt again.

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#empires smp #jimmy solidarity #scott smajor #ldshadowlady #smallishbeans #katherine elizabeth #pearlescentmoon #geminitay #flower husbands #seablings #mcyt #aiahs #sage writes #i am making the executive decision to keep maintagging this #if scott and jimmy see this that's their problem #interact at your own risk flower husbands /lh

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mylifeisactuallyamess · 3 years

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A/N: So. I wrote Anakin. Honestly the man has been living rent free in my mind for so long and we all know what I’m like for an angry angsty Star Wars boy. I am suffering with Imposter Syndrome massively with this because I don’t think I got his character down 100%. And well, I am a perfectionist. Anyway, here have this dumpster fire of a one shot.

Anakin Skywalker x Sith!Reader

Warnings: Canon violence, character death, lots of a Jedi hate talk. Damn fucking Jedi. Oh and a shit ton of angst.

Word Count: 1909

Your black robes fluttered around your legs as you peered over the ledge, a Jedi ship had come into land and you let a sly smile creep across your face. It was the Jedi you wanted, you could feel the ripples of his power through the force, the anger and darkness always with him even if he didn’t use them. You moved away and headed deeper into the compound, he was coming to stop you, take you back to the Jedi Council. You felt the presence of the 501st as they spread out looking for you but their force signatures were dulled by the brightness of him. Already the anticipation of battle thrummed through your body, the hilts of your sabers melded perfectly to the curve of your palms. Pulling down the visor on your mask you paced feeling him coming closer and closer until finally the door opened and there he stood in his black Jedi robes.

“I assumed you’d got lost,” you shot at him.

“I could sense your loathsome presence as soon as I landed,” he replied haughtily. You carried on pacing, seeing his saber still attached to his belt, the sure arrogance he had in his abilities made you proud. He was always such a cocky bastard but he had every right to be.

“What happens now, Skywalker? You think I will go quietly so you can hand me over to the traitors of the Galaxy?”

“The Jedi are not the traitors here!” He roared.

“Yes they are! And you know it!” His eyes followed you, across the floor, his expression darkening. “How can you not see their narrow minded ideas are strangling the Galaxy? They sit in their temple, allowing this war to continue all the while saying they don’t advocate it. They are apparently keepers of the peace and yet shattering it time and time again!”

“No! I will not listen to your lies!” You lifted your chin in defiance.

“Then come and shut me up,” your voice sneered through the vocoder. He moved quickly and your sabers came alive in your hands, the loud clash of the beams sent sparks over your heads. “The Jedi are a lie, their only legacy is failure…” you continued.

“No!” The force push hit you in the chest and a laugh burst from your chest as you slammed into the wall.

“Yes! Use that rage on me, Anakin.”

“You don’t want me to fight you,” he threatened, making you grin behind the mask.

“Oh baby, I’m counting on it.” You ducked as his blue lightsaber pierced the wall, you took the opening, punching him in the stomach making him grunt in surprise and retreat, before coming at you again. The sabers danced in a pattern that was all too familiar. You met each other move for move, nothing survived the brightness of your blades as you both cleaved a path of destruction. You spun out of his reach, putting some debris between you knowing it wasn’t much of a barrier, not when it came to you and Anakin. “They are oppressing you Anakin! They will never set you free to accomplish your true potential! They do not see the power you possess.”

“And you do?” He asked aggressively, pointing his saber at your chest as he roamed across the floor.

“I have always seen you.” He frowned and you sensed his confusion at your words. Retracting your blades you removed your mask letting it fall to the floor with a thud. “They told you I was dead didn't they?” You asked softly. The brightness of his own blade diminished followed by the ripples of surprise and crushing sadness but he stayed where he was. “More lies,” you pointed out.

“I don’t understand, Obi-Wan…”

“Obi-Wan misled you. He didn’t want to tell you the truth in case you came looking for me,” you spread your arms. “But the force guided you back to me anyway.” He whispered your name like it physically pained him, taking a step back as you stepped forward. “Change is coming, the end of an era giving way to the dawn of the Empire.”

“No, stop!” He cried.

“Join me Anakin….we can make the Galaxy a better place.” You backed him against the wall, his blue eyes closing as though he could stop himself from seeing you. “I know the pain you bear,” you whispered leaning into him. “I can help you face it, use it.”

“It is not the Jedi way, I will not fall for this!” You turned away from him growling with frustration.

“Stop being so blind! How do you refuse to see through the veil of deceit they have draped over us?” You screamed.

“How do you refuse to see the good! Has the touch of the light left you that much in the dark?” It hurt you, seeing him like this, sensing his pain and torment but it was necessary. If you could get Anakin onside the war would be won and you would be Darth Sidious’ prize apprentice. Turning the Chosen one was a task only you could accomplish, because out of all the people in the Galaxy, you were the one Anakin would not bring himself to destroy.

“Where do we go from here?” You asked him, watching as his chest heaved in distress.

“You will come with me, maybe the Jedi can help you…” you tutted in annoyance at his words.

“What a ridiculous notion! The Jedi can’t even help themselves let alone anyone else. Look at Ahsoka…” his blade roared to life in his hands as he flew at you, clashing against your red blades.

“You will leave Ahsoka out of this!” He snarled.

“But she is a part of this, we are all a part of this story that the Jedi have written,” you shouted over the crackling of your blades as he forced you back. The blades scissored out and his face grew close enough so you could feel his breath on your face. “You know I speak the truth Anakin, it’s why it upsets you so much.”

“No!” The air was pushed from your body and you fell backwards, your sabers falling from your grasp and skitting across the floor. You looked up into the light of the blue blade, seeing him standing over you with that twisted look on his face. The light of it shone in his tear filled eyes and you waited with bated breath. “I trusted you! Why didn’t you come and find me?” He shouted.

“What good would it have done? Would you have helped me like you helped her?” His saber lowered, but it didn’t go out and you chose a different tactic. “They asked you to spy on the Chancellor didn’t they?” He frowned, not hiding the shock he felt at your words. “I have my sources,” you spoke before he could question where you got the information. “Did that feel right to you? Is that a Just course of action for the Jedi to take?”

“I don’t…” you stood up slowly keeping eye contact.

“Use your brain Anakin!”

“I am!” He yelled turning away, his hand held out to you as though he wanted to stop you advancing.

“Anakin,” you whispered. “Just embrace the darkness.” His body slumped and you felt the streams rushing past you as he accepted the pain and anger inside him. You laughed, opening your arms at the vortex created by the force, it swirled around him, welcoming him. “You will not regret this Anakin! He will reward you beyond your wildest dreams!” You retrieved your sabers off the floor, snapping them to your belt before picking up your mask. When you turned Anakin was right behind you, his piercing eyes staring straight through you.

“What do we do now?” He asked and you hesitated slightly, sensing something still had to be unlocked within him but you didn’t know what. It wasn’t your place, you weren’t his master. You were his equal.

“I will take you to my master. He will know what to do.” You began to walk off but his hand snatched at your arm.

“What did he tell you about the rules of the Sith?”

“Enough,” you responded. “We could overthrow him,” you suggested with a smirk. Anakin released your arm and you relaxed slightly. “We were always such a team, unbeatable even on the side of the light, imagine what we could accomplish with an entire Galaxy at our fingertips?”

“I missed you,” he whispered and you took a step towards him. You leaned your forehead against his temple finally allowing your feelings to come to the forefront. Anakin had been everything to you, it had killed you to leave him behind but Sidious had promised you happiness in the end and now here you are achieving that. Your hand sought his own out, his fingers clammy as he gripped you tightly.

“And I missed you,” you breathed against his skin. His face shifted, his nose pressing against your cheek and your heart pounded at finally being reunited with the one person you wanted in the entire Galaxy. “The Clones are coming,” you murmured.

“I can sense them,” he replied, still not moving away from you. His expression was one of torture and you swept a strand of hair gently off his brow.

“What’s wrong?” You asked softly.

“There is….something I need to do.”

“Can I help?” You whispered, brushing your lips against his cheek.

“Yes.” He shifted, your chests pressing together as he finally kissed you. His lips were soft and lingering making you melt into him so you were unprepared for the burning sensation in your side. Your mouth opened against his in a loud gasp of surprise, his tears glinted in the glowing blue light of his saber as it protruded from your body. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. You couldn’t speak, your body refused to take a breath and you could see the darkside emitting from his irises as he gazed mournfully at you. “My master sent me to find you.” He sobbed when you slumped against him, not able to hold your weight anymore, the smell of your own burning flesh making you feel sick. His blade retracted but still the pain remained, the sting of betrayal coupled with the hurt of your life ending by the hand you trusted the most.

He followed you to the ground, your legs folding like they had no bones left in them as numbness spread through your body. “I will see peace and justice reign in the new Empire.” Your eyes widened, the only response you were able to give as the life slowly ebbed away from you. “I will never forget you.” You wanted to ask why, he had been genuinely surprised to see you under the mask and then you realised you’d both been played. Only the strongest would come out of this room alive, but you had been blinded. Tricked by your own feelings that maybe, just maybe he would have joined you rather than burying you in his quest for power. His hand cradled your head, his tears pattering onto your skin, mingling with the lone tear that ran from the corner of your own eye. We could have done this together, Anakin….

“It never would have worked. I’m saving you.” He replied as your world grew darker. “You were the one war I could never win….until now.”

#please don’t hate me #star wars #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x sith!reader #sith!reader #angst #I’m sorry #don’t come at me #this is my first time writing Anakin

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itsjustmyfantasyroom · 3 years

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Unexpected

Warnings: Based on two episodes with my twist. Just case talks, the squad actually not being friendly, hurt reader and fluff

I wrote this SO long ago, second guessed putting it up, but its time it saw the light.

WC: 2226

Enjoy x

“I told you not to put her on the stand. All you guys do is treat me like I don’t know what I’ am doing. I handed you all a solid case that didn’t involve her and you have blown it”

“You’re out of line Detective” Rafael spat back to you.

“No, you’re out of line Counselor, you know it all”

“You need to calm down Y/N” Liv said firmly with a slightly raised voice.

“I’ve had enough of this crap I should have stayed in Brooklyn, at least they listened and wanted me there”

You stormed out of Rafael’s’ office slamming his glass door behind you making the whole wall shake.

“Is she always this emotional?” Rafael frowned at Liv

“Well, No. She is right Rafa, about everything” He rolled his eyes at Liv.

“Who’s the ADA here?”

“You, but she is right”

You had been at Manhattan SVU for 4 months after transferring from Brooklyn SVU. You and Sonny were old friends. You had finished the academy together, and then finally crossed paths again in Brooklyn. You actually wished you had stayed there. Back in Brooklyn you were one of them, you got along with the ADA, and everyone was close friends. Sonny had recommend you to Liv after you cracked a big string of rapes and she wanted to meet you. Liv offered you the position and you stupidly took it, thinking that you would have been welcomed with open arms, how wrong you were.

From the moment you walked in you felt like an outsider, even Sonny was different with you, even though he was your partner. He never backed you up on anything, you were always wrong. They treated you like you didn’t belong there and never took on board anything you had to say. Even if they asked you for after work drinks, you were left out and would leave early. It got to the point that you dreaded walking into the bullpen every morning. Rafael was the worst of all, he treated you like you were invisible, which you hated because you had feelings for him from the moment you laid eyes on him.

A huge case had come in. A women had accused an Olympian, and once it was made public 2 other women came forward. You had a funny feeling about the 3rd women that came forward, all she had was the story, nothing else to back it up. The first two victims had doctor’s reports and had told someone as soon as it happened. You had worked hard on your own to make a new case file with just two victims who had all the evidence from their attack and gave it to Rafael one day when he was in the squad room before the trial started.

“She is lying”

“You don’t know that” Sonny said back to you.

“Barba don’t put her on the stand, I have given you everything with just the other two victims, it's bullet proof.”

“Why Deactivate? Because you have a feeling?” he smirked at you “Three victims have come forward, three victims will be put on the stand”

“You’re making a big mistake”

“How about you let me do my job. We don’t go off feeling here, we go off evidence”

“Yeah and she has none” you snapped back.

Rafael ended up putting her on the stand and the defence ripped her to pieces. She confessed that she was paid by another Olympian to say she was attacked by the other just to get him out of the running for the Olympics, which ended in the case being a mistrial and he got away with the other two attacks.

Rafael had felt bad after Liv walked out of his office. He had put the case file you had made him in his draw the day you gave it to him, not even bothering to take on board what you said. Rafael pulled it out and had a look, you had been right. You had given him a bullet proof case which would have guaranteed the attacker would have been put away.

You were a good Detective and very beautiful, but you never looked happy, you were always stand offish and never got involved with them. Everything fell into place in his mind. Everyone did treat you like you didn’t know anything and they never included you. He thought back to how he treated you and regret filled him. From the first day he meet you and you smiled at him, his tummy filled with butterflies. But he didn’t want to get hurt, so he did what he did best and closed himself off to you, clearly doing a lot of damage.

You sat in Forlini’s on your 2nd double vodka soda. Everything was running through your head, you were so angry it was making you cry. After everything that had happen, you pulled your phone from your pocket and opened your emails and sent one to Liv asking for a personal week next week, and then emailed your old Lieutenant asking to have a meeting with him when he was free.

You couldn’t do it anymore. It was all too much. These last 4 months had been horrible. Your old Lieutenant didn’t want you to leave in the first place, but had told you there was a position for you whenever you wanted to come back. You hit send when you felt someone sit next to you. You looked over and it was Sonny.

“How much have you had to drink?”

“Why do you care?”

“Come on Y/N, why are you acting like this?”

“You’re really asking me that question?” You frowned at Sonny.

“What do you mean?”

“From the moment I walked in, all you guys have done is make me feel unwelcome. You’re my partner and you don’t even back me up. I hate it here, I wish I never made the transfer. We were friends before here, you’re so different. I don’t know you anymore”

“I didn’t mean-Why didn’t you talk to me about it?” Sonny had a sad look on his face.

“And what’s the point in that? You would just laugh it off and go back to ignoring me with the rest of them”

“I’ am sorry”

“Bit late for that. Just go”

Sonny looked at you, got down off his bar stool and walked away.

A couple hours later you were on your 5th drink, it was getting dark out. You could feel the alcohol making your head swim. But you felt numb which is what you wanted.

“How many of them have you had?”

“What’s it to you?” You didn’t even look up to see who it was.

“How many have you had Detective?” Rafael was standing next to you frowning when you finally looked up.

“Why does everyone seem to care all of a sudden?”

“Excuse me” Rafael sat down on the chair next you and ordered some water and fries.

“What do you want Counselor?”

“Look, I should have listened to you. You were-you were right”

You looked up at him through glassy eyes.

“Doesn’t matter now anyway, I’ll be out of your hair soon enough”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ am going to transfer back. Well hopefully I can. I mean I want to. I have a meeting next week. I hope the boss says yes” you skulled down the last of your drink.

“Why do you want to leave?” he all of a sudden filled with sadness.

“You’re as dumb as Sonny if you don’t know the answer to that question” He frowned to you “All you guys have done since I started here is leave me out and treat me like I don’t know my stuff. And you are worst of all, you treat me like I’ am invisible”

“No I d-”

“Yes you do. I can’t believe I ever had feelings for someone like you”

Rafael sat there and watched you, not sure if it was just the alcohol talking or if you really meant what you said. You felt uncomfortable him starring at you so you started to get down off the bar stool.

----

“Do you always let your girlfriend drink this much on a Friday night?” the Doctor gave Rafael a funny look.

“She’s not my girlfriend, she’s a co-worker”

“With the amount of alcohol in her system and the knock to the head. We will be keeping her in for tonight. She needs her concussion monitored. Maybe you should take better care of your co-worker while drinking.” The Doctor gave him a dirty look.

You woke up to a dark room and a crashing head ache. You let your eyes adjust and a figure caught your attention. You turned your head and Rafael was sitting there with a hospital blanket over him. You tried to adjust yourself, but you made so much noise, it woke him up.

“Sorry I woke you” you muttered.

“It’s ok” he rubbed his face “I’ am glad you’re awake” he gave you a soft smile.

“What happened?”

“You fell and hit your head on the bar. You have a concession”

“Explains the head ache” he laughed at you “Thanks for staying, but you can go now”

“No it’s ok, I’ am happy to stay”

You laid back down looking up at the ceiling.

“Did you mean what you said?” Rafael asked softly.

“Which part?” you sighed back.

“All of it”

“Yeah. I have next week off and I’ am going to talk to my old Lieutenant when he tells me what day I can” tears were filling your eyes.

“OK. But I’ am not just talking about that”

You took a deep breath and let out a small sigh.

“Why does it matter now anyway” You spat back at him sitting up in bed. Rafael walked over and sat on the edge grabbing your hand in his.

“Because I would like to know. Please”

You pulled your hand out of his,

“Of course I meant it. I just needed 5 drinks to finally say something. But like I said it doesn’t matter now”

“Can we ta-” Rafael started to say before you cut him off.

“No”

“Can I talk?” you finally looked into his eyes, they were such a beautiful shade of green and you slightly nodded.

“I’ am sorry. About the case, about making you feel the way you felt. I didn’t realise how I was treating you. I’ am sorry, please think about staying.”

“It’s a little too late for that.”

****

You were let out of Hospital the next day. Rafael ended up leaving early that morning, the DA called him in for a case. You got home and showered when there was a knock at your door. You were shocked when you opened it, seeing who was standing there, Liv, Sonny, Amanda and Fin, each holding a brown paper bag.

“What are you all doing here? Ah I mean come in” you stood aside and let them all in.

“Barba called Liv and told her what happened, so we decided to come over and I’ am going to cook” Sonny said back to you.

“And we want to apologise” Amanda grabbed your shoulder “For making you feel the way you do. We didn’t mean it, we were assholes and we don’t want you to leave”

“I know you have got in contact with your old Lieutenant, but please reconsider” Liv looked at you with a small smile.

Lunch was amazing and for the first time you felt like part of the squad. You just hoped that it would last. Everyone had left after helping to wash up, clean up, the left overs put in the fridge. You had just sat down on the couch when there was another knock on the door, you were even more shocked with who was standing there,

“I know everyone has left, but I brought dessert” Rafael had a big smile on his face “Can I come in?” you moved out of the way to let him make his way in, sitting the bag he was carrying on your kitchen bench “Sorry I wasn’t here with everyone else, the DA wanted me to go over a case, took longer than I expected. How are you feeling?”

“A bit better, thanks. Why did you call Liv?”

“I was worried about you. And, I guess, I hoped she would talk you out of leaving”

“Why?”

Rafael walked over to you, grabbing your hand to pull you around to look at him.

“Because, I like you”

“Is that how you treat people you like? Hate to see how you treat people you love”

“For that. I’ am sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was protecting myself”

You raised your eye brows at him. Before you had chance to say anything back, his lips came crashing on yours. Butterflies filled your tummy and you lent into him moving your head for him to deepen his kiss, Rafael resting his hands on your neck, you resting yours on his waist. After a moment you pulled away to catch your breath and looked into his eyes,

“That was unexpected” you smiled at him, Rafael smirking back at you.

“I really want to see where this goes, I promise I don’t love how I like”

Tags: @detective-giggles @beccabarba @witches-unruly-heart @dianilaws @scarletsoldierrr @lv7867 @permanentlydizzy @averyhotchner @infiniteoddball @fandom-princess-forevermore @madamsnape921 @annabelleb49 @alwaysachorusgirl @thatesqcrush @lovelymischief

#ada rafael barba #ada barba #rafael barba #rafael barba fanfiction #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x yn #barba fanfic #barba x reader #rafael barba and reader #rafael barba x you #reafael barba x reader #rafael barba x reader #law and order svu #SVU fanfiction #SVU FANDOM #svu fan

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futurewriter2000 · 3 years

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If I can't have you, nobody can - pt. 9 - final part

A/N: I know it's kind of a shitty ending but I just wanted to end it without all the dramatic affects. Like, let's be honest. This is how it would go because all men are pu**ies.

James walked in his apartment drained. He felt his limbs go numb as soon as he stepped on his threshold. He could barely put the key in but when he did, he opened the door with force, kicked off his shoes and threw himself onto his bed.

The image of Lily's tears haunted him. It wasn't as horrible as he imagined. It was worse, far worse but he couldn't keep deceiving her. He couldn't pretend to love her when he loved you. It was that easy. You can only love one person at the time. Loving both makes him selfish.

There was no doubt on he was to choose. There even wasn't a choice for him. He knew exactly who he wanted and that person was you.

He deserved the slap. Definitely deserved it but Merlin did she had to hit so hard? His cheek was still burning from her hand and it wasn't any less redder than it was before.

He didn't want to see you today either. Tomorrow and for the rest of his life, yes. But today? Today he just wanted to sleep through and get it over with. Despite everything, he still cared about Lily and the time they were together was not just wasted time for him. He cared... cared enough to feel pain in his chest as he did so but that didn't mean he loved you any less. He just needed to grieve a bit for he had lost an amazing woman but love is love, and you can't really choose for who you fall in love with and with you he was head over heels.

"PEEK A BOO!" came a loud voice from the living room. "Prongs?"

"Ugh, noooo..." James grumbled into the pillow. Apparently this day is far from being over.

"Oh, there you are." Sirius smiled as he popped his head into the bedroom. "Alright there, mate?" he jumped on the bed and started bouncing off.

"No." he mumbled into the pillow.

"Hell, who hurt you today? Was it Moody? Was he a bit harsh on you today? Oh wait, we're not Aurors yet." Sirius laughed sarcastically and slapped his forehead. "Must have been-"

"I broke up." he mumbled into the pillow but Sirius couldn't quite hear him.

"You're worker?"

"No, Pads." James turned around to face him. "I broke up..." he paused, watching Sirius' eyes furrow. "... with Lily."

Sirius kept watching him in silence, replaying thoughts and words in his head. "I thought you wanted to marry her?" he stood up and crossed his arms over his chest. He knew the reason why, stuck far back in his head but he wanted James to say it. "Weren't we ring shopping four days ago?"

"I know. I know." James sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his eyes. "I just... I talked to Remus-"

"oF cOUrsE!" Sirius threw his arms in the air. "And he gave you some Yobe Kenobi wisdom about love and commitment when a man cannot even commit to the fact that he turns into a wolf every full moon."

"Pads, that's not fair." James scolded him. Every one of them knew how much Remus suffered. It wasn't fair of Sirius being ignorant about his friend and Sirius realised that.

"I know..." he looked down in regret. "But can't you- why? You know what don't tell me why. I know why? It's because of (y/n) isn't it?" he glared at James.

"Yes but-"

"I bloody knew it! She's not for you James!"

"How in the bloody hell would you know that?! Huh?! Why aren't you just happy for us?! Why are you pissed?!"

"Because if I can't have her, you shouldn't either! Nobody should!"

And if words could have physical strength, they would push James back a few steps.

"You git!" James stormed to Sirius and pushed him against his chest.

Sirius stared at him for a moment and when James started to push him again, he pushed back first.

"You were selfish all this time!"

"So what if I was?! You and her would never work out because she still has feelings for me!"

"Don't act like a child, Sirius! She's not a 12 year old girl and you're not all mighty God! She's a grown, sensible woman, who doesn't wait for you just to crawl back at your feet. If she would, she would have done it a long time ago but she didn't, did she?!" he shouted. "She moved on and she got her life together or did she sent you a letter or called you that I do not know about?" he continued but Sirius just stared at him, defeated. "She doesn't love you. She doesn't love you because you had rejected her YEARS ago but she does love me. She always loved me because if she didn't, she wouldn't have given me a second chance! So you have no right to be jealous, mate, when you're the one that pushed her away! Not only from yourself but from us too! And there was no reason for that except today that you were just too selfish about it!" he pushed Sirius through the door. "Now, bloody leave! I don't want to see your face for a couple of days because I am furious at you!" James stared at Sirius and Sirius pouted like a little child.

He stomped away and disapparated into thin air.

---

You had laughed when James was telling you this story. He was laying in your lap and angrily complaining over Sirius as a little child as well. He threw his hands in the air and started to get heated as he explained the argument.

"After all I've done for that git!" he turned to the side and furrowed his eyebrows. "That little asshole." he continued to pout as you had continued to laugh.

"Come on, Jamie." you gently caressed his cheek. "We were all just kids when everything happened. We didn't know better, especially Sirius. You were just as stubborn and arrogant as he was."

"I know but still!" he sat up and looked at you, not angry but sad. "If I didn't know better now, I wouldn't have been with you."

You cupped his cheeks and awed at him. "But you are and Sirius is just being dramatic. You know he wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone hurt his best friend."

"I bet you five galleons he will knock on that door tomorrow, if not today with Fizzing Whizzbees and ton of Chocolate Frogs just to apologise."

"He had never apologised in my entire time of knowing him."

"Oh, he doesn't really say it but you know what he's meaning to say."

And just as James was about to answer, there was a knock on the door.

You smiled coyly at James. "Get your wallet, Potter."

James rolled his eyes and smiled at you. He walked to the door and opened them to see a tall man with regretful puppy eyes and candy in his hands. "You just made me lose five galleons, mate." he said and gestured to let him come inside.

"What do you mean?" Sirius smiled as he walked after James, later seeing you sitting on the sofa.

He stopped in his tracks and stared at you. No second movement or proof that he was breathing appeared. He just stood and stared like a linden tree.

"Hello, Sirius." you waved at him.

"Hi." he said than quickly regained his saneness. "Oh, so you're the thief behind the five galleons."

"Guilty." you laughed. "You had always done this whenever you and James had got in the argument. James was ranting to Remus, Peter and I, meanwhile you were out there sneaking to Honeydukes for sorry candy."

"Which always worked in the end." Sirius winked and sat down on the arm chair in front of you. He rubbed his hands together and looked away from you, before facing the uncomfortable topic. "So... he told you..."

"Quite passionately, might I say. I felt as if I was there when he was telling me the story." you teased as James filled himself with Chocolate Frogs and laughed.

"I'm really sorry, (y/n)." he said, causing James' eyes to widen. He had never heard Sirius apologise before but now that he did, it must have been sincere. "I really didn't know what I was doing... or saying... you were just so fun to be around and I guess I didn't want to share you with anybody."

"I get it..." you said, letting your hand fall behind James' neck and looking at him with awe. "We were all just stupid kids and I always wanted us to stay friends." you smiled back at him.

Sirius smiled back. "So you're not mad?"

"I was never mad, Siri. I was just disappointed but everything turned out for the best in the end." you looked back at James, who didn't take his eyes off you since the moment your hand touched his skin.

"Yeah." Sirius said, then stood up and patted his jeans. "Best I leave you two love birds alone then." he said and both of you looked up at him. "I really am happy for the two of you." he said before disapperating away.

Though he said it to the two of you with a smile on his face he never meant it. Why not? Because seeing you with James was the most painful thing he had to witness.

Seeing you there, so grown up, so different from when he last saw you was torturing. He just wanted to pour out of himself the why's and the because's. Oh, how he wanted to hug you and tell you everything but he couldn't. He couldn't have done it because of James.

He had messed up so much for you, for James and for himself that all he had to do was restrain himself of his own emotions. He can never tell you now.

He had his chances and now he doesn't. He would think it was not fair when everything made sense. It was fair. He did have chances, opportunities to tell you the truth but was too late for him now.

James was right. You didn't wait for him. You moved on and everything he made you feel was now gone but everything you made him feel was still inside of him.

You were happy. James was happy and him? Sirius? He was miserable because he had let you slip through his fingers forever.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter imagines #marauders #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #marauders era #marauders imagines #marauders imagine #marauders x reader

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earthchica · 3 years

Text

ungodly hour ➝ part two

Chris Evans x Reader OFC! ( Zariyah Hawthorne )

Summary: in which Chris and Zariyah have to work alongside each other despite being exes.

Warning: More Angst & Cursing

Word Count: 1.5K

Note: Sorry for the wait, we’ll be back on track. 💗

like, comment and reblog! 😁

WATTPAD LINK click here

December 15th, 2016 ➝ Los Angeles, California

I should’ve given Chris the benefit of the doubt, but everything happened so fast, that it was hard to comprehend.

I needed answers, I needed them now and somehow I got them. I sat here for a moment, not believing what I was staring at.

It was all a lie and I believed it, I fucking believe it. My publicist found out that someone was paid to send me a fake cheating picture of Chris.

I sat my phone down for a second and covered my face with my hands. Tears began to come down my face.

Chris was telling the truth and I didn’t believe him. In a matter of seconds regret, sadness and heartache filled my whole body.

I needed to talk to him, I had to talk to him. I sniffed and wiped my tears, decided to text him until my eyes caught something.

I scrolled and stopped at the E! News article headline. I gasped not even .

Are Chris Evans and Lily Grace Dating?

December 15th, 2016

Is there something romantic going on between Chris Evans and Lily Grace? Actor, Chris Evans (37) and Model, Lily Grace (29) were spotted having dinner together at a restaurant in Orlando, Florida on Wednesday. They were also spotted at Disney world a few days ago by fans.

An eyewitness told E! News that "They were flirting, laughing, and looked to be having a great time" The pair had first sparked romance rumors two months ago, neither star had confirmed the nature of their relationship.

Is #Evansthorne really over? Has Chris really moved on? Are Chris and Lily really dating? Leave comments below on what you think!

My heart broke into a million pieces, it was over. I let him go and now he’s happy with someone else.

I broke down into tears, angry at myself, angry at the fact I let someone lie and manipulation destroy our amazing relationship.

I cried and cried until I couldn’t anymore and fell asleep. I jumped awake, wondering where the hell I was.

I realized that I was at home and had fallen asleep. I glanced over my shoulder to look at the clock and it was only five in the morning.

I felt so numb that it was hard setting up in bed. I leaned my back against the pillows and stared at the ceiling for about three hours.

―――――――――――――――――――――――――

It's been a few days since I found out the truth, and It’s been really hard, especially with fans tagging me in Chris’s instagram post.

It was true, he had moved on to someone else and I couldn’t be mad or jealous about it.

I haven’t been able to leave my bedroom, all I’ve been doing is sleeping, eating and crying.

Whenever I woke up too early I would toss and turn until I was a lot more comfortable and fall asleep again.

The bright light coming from the crack blinds threatened my eyelids to open but I kept them closed, wanting to keep sleeping.

I was about to go back to sleep when my phone made a noise. I put it up and saw that I had a text from my sister, Zoey.

All of my family and friends have been texting and calling me, they must have heard of the news and wanted to check on me.

I of course lied and said I was okay. I slid to unlock my phone and looked at the text.

zoey 👻 “Are you okay, Zari?”

what I really wanted to say { no, I'm not. I'm heartbroken and I made a huge mistake. }

DELETED...

zari ✨Yeah, I'm great. why wouldn't I be?

zoey 👻 Are you sure because sometimes you pretend to be okay when you're really not.

zoey 👻 i'm here for you, Zari. You can tell me anything?

what I really wanted to say { I made a huge mistake, I found out Chris wasn't really cheating. The picture I saw was fake. I feel so stupid for not believing him and now he's moved on. my heart is breaking }

DELETED...

zari ✨ I'm 100% okay! I'm happy for chris and plus, I've moved on and seeing someone 😏💗

zoey 👻 Oh okay, zari! I love you and if you ever feel you need to talk. Call me! 💓

zari ✨I love you too, Zoey and thanks, really appreciate it.

zoey 👻 You're welcome. oh hey, do you wanna go to the bar tomorrow?

what I really wanted to say { no, I can't too damn depressed }

DELETED....

zari ✨sure, I love it!

―――――――――――――――――――――――――

"Are you sure, you're ok Zari?" Zoey asked for the one billionth time, and I gave her the same answer every time.

Even though I was lying, I had to fake it until I'd make it, and eventually, I'll get over it. It was late at night, the bar was crowded, loud, and surely smelled like alcohol.

Zoey and I found a table and ordered some drinks. My eyes began to wander around the bar as she rambled on about her new man.

My heart stopped when I saw him with her. I looked away quickly trying to calm my nerves but nothing worked.

Zoey caught my eyes and realized who I was seeing. "Are you ok?" She asked, placing her hand on my shoulder.

I nodded. "Yeah, um I'm gonna go talk to him."

"Are you sure?" She asked. I nodded, walking over to him and when he saw my face, his eyes went blank to amused, which was weird.

"Hey, Zariyah" Chris greeted me with a fake smile. I nodded at him and looked at the girl. She was pretty, alright.

"Oh, I'm being so rude. Zariyah this is Lily, my new girlfriend, and Lily this is Zariyah, my ex-girlfriend" Chris says coldly.

My heart broke when he said ex. His new girlfriend didn't even care, she looked me up and down, shrugged, and went back to sipping her wine.

"Um...Chris, can I talk to you for a minute please?!" I asked, already feeling an annoying vibe from his new girlfriend.

"Whatever you have to say to him, you can say it in front of me" Lily spoke up, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

Bitch who are you?

"You heard my lady." He says, with a smirk, taking a sip of his beer. "Are you serious?" I asked and he nodded.

If he wants to be like them, so be it, two can play that game.

"Okay, well I don't know how to say this but I'm pregnant with your child Chris" He almost spit his drink out while looking at me.

I rolled my eyes and walked away, Zoey knew that was our cue to leave the bar.

"ZARIYAH!" Chris called out my name as we were almost to the car. I told Zoey to go ahead and that I'll be there in a second.

"What the hell was that, you're not pregnant." He says with anger in his tone.

"I know I'm not, I just wanted to talk to you alone" I answered with my hands on my hips. Chris stared at me intensely.

"What do you want, Zariyah?" Chris asked, putting his hands in pockets. I took a deep breath as I began to speak.

"I-uh-um I want to talk to you about us-" He cut me off.

"US? There is no us, Zariyah. You made that clear when you broke up with me, so what is the real problem?" He asked.

"Fine, who is that bitch? Like for real, Chris" I burst out. Chris shook his head, chuckling at me, turning to leave.

"Chris, please wait!" He stopped and turned back towards me. "Why should I, Zariyah?"

"Because I'm sorry and I love you. I made a huge mistake by breaking up with you. I should've believed-" He cut me off again.

"Believed me when I told you I wasn't cheating. Yeah, you're right!" He was getting aggravated, moving closer to me.

"I cried every fucking night for you, do you know that? I spent every single day wondering why you didn't believe or trust me. I loved you with my fucking heart, and I've been loyal since the day we started dating. I would die before I do anything in my bones to hurt you"

I didn't say anything because I knew what he was saying was true.

"But now that I'm with another woman, that made you realize your mistake and that this whole thing was a big misunderstanding. You have no right to be jealous or hurt when you're the one who left me." Chris says.

"God, I wish I never met you," He says. I nodded as the tears came down my face. His face softened when he saw me crying, he really hated when I cried.

"Zariyah I-" He started but I cut him off.

"No, no I deserve that and I'm sorry for hurting you, I really am. I believed everything and everyone but you. I'm so sorry I hurt you, Chris and I'll do anything to get another chance" I whispered.

Chris and I stood there, just staring at each other in silence, he was about to say something but he was cut off.

"Chris, are you ok?" Lily called out, he turned to look at her for a second before turning back to me.

"I think it's best if we both move on!" He says, not giving me a chance to reply. He walks back inside the bar with his girlfriend.

It begins to rain and I could feel more tears come down my face as my heart bleeds out. I couldn't be mad at anything or anybody but myself.

―――――――――――――――――――――――――

tagged @chvntelle-99 @ultracevans @fentyblinders @spndarling

IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED LEAVE A COMMENT OR HIT ME UP IN MY INBOX!!!!

#chris evans #chris evans series #cevans #chris #evans #chris evans x black ofc #chris evans daddy #chris jamal evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fluff #social media #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x woc #chris evans social #chris evans x reader #chris evans social media #chris evans x original female character

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creweemmaeec11 · 2 years

Note

That most recent post really struck a chord with me.

[Feel free to skip reading this, funnily enough it got a bit sad n personal]

I kept trying to justify that that isn't me since I've just as often had the problem of an overabundance of emotion. But then I realized that all the times I've even had strong emotions in the past... I don't even know how long, either it was gone in a few seconds or I regretted it.

You're right about the hanging on to anger, I think. I used to think it was a sign of progress in some way, that I was angry instead of sad. So yeah. I've been there and I'm kind of still there. And then I joke about hating myself or not wanting to have emotions and I realize that this is not a healthy place to be in.

Anyway, what you write is always awesome, whether it's happy escapes from reality or something a lot of people really needed to hear. I wish you all the best <3

I always read everything I am sent <3

So many people with depression are surprised when they find out strong emotions aren't meant to fade in 5, 10, 20 minutes. whether its happiness or sadness, these feelings are meant to stick around and be felt. Which can be really hard to do when we've become so programmed to shut it down.

I think that is something a lot of people feel, that the anger is better then the numbness. A lot of the time this can happen because we get to the point of being tired of feeling numb, we're in the same spot we were with sadness, we can't tolerate it anymore, we're desperate to feel something else. Anger is a strong emotion that is a lot easier to ignite then most others. But know it isn't the solution.

I think that's something a lot of people don't realize. They picture a good, healthy life as one without sadness, but it's not. A healthy life is one with an array of emotions. Like food, we need to eat more then just grain. We need to feel sadness to appreciate happiness, we need failure to feel pride at success, we need betrayal to understand the value of loyalty.

Bad emotions aren't bad for you inherently, just like sugar isn't bad for you until you start eating too much of it. Self deprecating jokes can be a very tricky one. On one side, its a coping mechanism, normalizing ideas that could be scary or hard to think about make them seem less scary. The idea of Voldemort, not saying his name, making it a scary topic gives him more power. On the other side, you don't want to normalize the idea of thinking bad about yourself, because you'll stop realizing when you even do it. So be careful <3 Also that means the world to me, it's literally why I post my stories. If I can make just even one persons day better, that's all I want.

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lillotte17 · 3 years

Text

Tomorrow

Got hooked watching Word of Honor and Zhou Zishu's Sad Face Journeys in episodes 33-34 came for my life, so I wrote a little scene set after the whole Heroes Conference Thing. ...And then Wen KeXing showed up and just...*gestures vaguely* I don't know what happened here. XD

Zhou Zishu sits quietly beside the bed, watching Wen KeXing's sleeping face with an ache in his chest that has nothing to do with his failing body, and everything to do with the fact that he is about to die.

When his shidi had made a miraculous reappearance at the Heroes Conference, his first reaction was gut-wrenching surprise. It felt as though the ground had suddenly dissolved beneath his feet. His heart leaping so high in his throat that he forgot how to breathe. Dizzy with the overwhelming rush of joy and confusion. Uncertain whether to laugh or cry.

But once the shock had subsided, the anger had been hot on its heels. And he wanted to be mad about it. Wanted to take Wen KeXing by the shoulders and shake him so hard that his teeth rattled around in his skull. Wanted to scream and sob and rail against the now inevitably fast-burning candle of his fate. At the unfairness of losing his life just as he had found something worth living for again. Someoneworth living for. For a few moments, the fury had burned so brightly in him he thought it might be enough to kill him then and there. That the fire between his lungs would simply burst his chest open and engulf everything around them in a sea of red.

But when they had caught each other’s gaze, he had seen the apology roiling in Wen KeXing’s dark eyes, raw and miserable, even without a word being said. The apology, and the fear. That same fear Zishu had seen flicker across his face every time he had tried to coax him into confessing that he was from Ghost Valley. The same fear he had seen in him the night Wen KeXing had snuck out of the Four Seasons Manor to intercept Ye BaiYi and tried to prevent him from reveling his identity. And yet again, when Han Ying had died, and he had nearly killed himself in a blind panic trying to fix it somehow. The fear whispered that death was preferable to his hatred. That his blade would be kinder than his revulsion. That Wen KeXing would sacrifice anything to avoid being abandoned once again.

Zhou Zishu was helpless in the face of it; as he always seems to be. The look that passed between them had been fast and fleeting, there and gone again with barely a blink, but it was enough to douse the flames of his anger with a tide of chilling and fathomless grief. The rest of the Heroes Conference passed before him in a daze. Vengeance, and justice, and pride. Wen KeXing blazing in the brightest and truest version of himself for all to see. Dazzling and mesmerizing and impossible to look away from. He does not know if he has ever loved him more, even as he felt his heart slowly sinking down into the pit of his stomach. The numbness of acceptance settling into his bones.

There will be no escape from death, this time.

He had been quiet on the way back to Jing BeiYuan’s Manor. Quiet enough to worry both Wen KeXing and ChengLing, who always seems to see more than he understands. He had listened to their reasons and excuses, and he had done his best to reassure them afterwards, but his own words sound hollow in his ears. The best he could do was to get Lao Wen hopelessly drunk, and pray that it made him less intuitive. The suffusion of elation and hope in the air had nearly been enough to choke him, though. He did not want to rob them of it, but he found he could take part in it either, no matter how much he wanted to. He could not bring himself to celebrate a future he can no longer share with them.

Zhou Zishu understands Wen KeXing. He understands that he is just as abysmal at properly conveying affection as he is himself, if not more so. The man only knows how to protect people he cares for by either sending them away from him or drowning them both in blood. It is how he had managed to survive all those years surrounded by madness and chaos and death. Zishu had done much the same, while he was working in the capital. Hiding all of their softer places far away from where the light could reach them. Playful banter has always passed easily between them, but tenderness is heavier, and vulnerabilities almost impossible to speak aloud. They are both trying to do better, struggling to pull their own humanity back into their hands where it can be shared freely, but Wen KeXing’s hurts are older and deeper. His path back to the world of the living inevitably more winding and complex. He still has not mastered the art of articulating his fears and concerns.

Zhou Zishu’s health was tenuous even before he had been kidnapped and tortured. As much as he hated to admit it, he had been in no fit state to fight an angry mob. Wen KeXing hid the truth from him because he knew that he would chafe at being told to stay out of harm’s way; that they would have argued about it until he was either allowed to participate in the scheme or he was spitting blood and passing out on the floor. Zishu cannot even say that this assessment of his character was a bad one, but it still stung to be kept in the dark, and the hurt was lingering. And yet, however deep the barb of this secret may have landed, however misplaced the caution may or may not have been, he knows without a shred of doubt that Wen KeXing’s deception was born of love, and he can hardly hold that against him.

Especially not now.

Wen KeXing turns his head slightly, mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like an extremely slurred version of his name. His expression is smooth and peaceful, his hair a dark fan across the bed behind him. The rosy glow of happiness and alcohol still pinking the apples of his cheeks.

Zishu smiles despite himself. It is much easier to find traces of the little boy his master had planned to take for his second disciple when he looks like this; safe and sleeping and completely at ease for the first time in who knows how long. He wishes he could recall those few precious days they had spent together as children with more clarity, but the memory of it is like a silk brocade left to sit too long in the sunshine, its delicate patterns fading as the colors wash away in a flood of light. Zhou Zishu had been too young to fully comprehend the weight of death when his master had returned from his trip to collect the Wen family without his shidi or his parents in tow. That his master had been sad about it was enough to impact him, but in the grand scheme of things, the wounds to his own heart had been minimal.

What would have happened if they had kept looking for Zhen Yan, he wonders. If he and Wen KeXing had grown up together as best friends and martial brothers and soulmates? Would their master have found a way to soothe Zhen Yan’s rage before it consumed him? Would Zhou Zishu have made the same mistakes with the Window of Heaven if Wen KeXing had been at his side? Perhaps they could have saved each other before things had reached the place they were now. Or perhaps Wen KeXing would have died under Zhou Zishu’s leadership with the rest of their sect, and his failures would have tasted that much more bitter.

He sighs quietly. There is no sense dwelling on things he cannot change. He had been a child, and just as powerless to save Wen KeXing from his fate as the boy himself had been. Feeling guilty about it was meaningless at this point. It was enough to have him here and now. Enough that they had had any time together at all. Enough that Wen KeXing had fallen off of that cliff and somehow still managed to walk back to him.

It has to be enough, because it is all they have. All they can have. Even if he wants more.

“Ah Xu?”

The voice is thick with sleep, but marginally less inebriated than before.

“Mn,” Zhou Zishu hums in acknowledgement, his gaze shifting slightly to watch Wen KeXing blink himself back into wakefulness.

“You didn’t go to bed?” he asks, bleary and swaying slightly as he attempts to sit up.

“There is someone in my bed.” Zishu points out archly.

Wen KeXing looks murderous for a few seconds until he realizes that the person in question is, in fact, himself. When the clouds break, his expression immediately shifts to one of insufferable satisfaction. He leans precariously off the side of the bed, robes and hair both hopelessly askew.

“I am always willing to share everything I have with Ah Xu,” he declares with feigned sweetness.

“How kind of Philanthropist Wen to make a present of what he stole from me,” Zhou Zishu snorts, “Your generosity knows no bounds.”

“Ah Xu!” Wen KeXing objects. “How is it stealing when you gave it to me freely? You think I would come to your bedroom with the intention of sleeping?”

“I’m sure I don’t know anything about your intentions.” The reply is given with a smirk, but his eyes dart away from him. “You asked me to drink with you, but the jar you brought was empty. Besides, I am thinking about giving it up. I have been told that it is bad for my health.”

“Aiya, first Ah Xu accuses me of being a thief, and now he tells me such scandalous falsehoods!” Wen KeXing shakes his head, attempting to seem wounded despite the grin on his face. “I already accepted your punishment earlier, there is no reason to be cruel.”

“Who is a liar here?” Zhou Zishu inquires laughingly, gesturing back and forth between them. “Which one of us is the most scandalous?”

“It’s me, it’s me,” Wen KeXing acknowledges, his head bobbing up and down in agreement, “But Ah Xu, you cannot expect me to ever believe that you would willingly give up drinking good wine with me? And as for not understanding my intentions, well…I believe that even less.”

“Was your intention to make sure I could not get any sleep?”

Wen KeXing only smiles at him widely.

“…I regret asking such a question,” Zhou Zishu chuckles, reaching out to lightly slap the side of Wen KeXing’s face in both fondness and chastisement. “Ask a shameless man a question and you are sure to get a shameless reply.”

Wen KeXing grabs hold of his hand before he can pull it away, leaning into it with a sigh.

“What is so shameless about it at this point?” he wonders, something soft and shining igniting within his gaze. “Living together. Dying together. Watching as our hair turns gray with old age. We’ve already promised to share these things, haven’t we? Why give me your bed when we could share that, too?”

Zhou Zishu takes a long look at him. At the dark hair spilling across his shoulder in disarray. The front of his robes just rumpled enough to expose the elegant line of his throat as well as part of his collar bones. The flush of his cheeks and the promise burning in his eyes.

He cannot deny that he wants it. Even knowing it might make things more painful later on. He wants to be selfish. He wants to be greedy while he still can. While he can still hear Lao Wen calling for him and feel his skin beneath his hands. His sense of taste and smell have gone already, but can still see him, and that could be enough. More than enough.

But will it be enough for Wen KeXing?

This is the last thing they have to give each other. The last pieces of themselves they have been holding back. Mostly because there simply had not been time for it amidst the chaos swirling around them. It always seemed as though either their lives were in danger or one of them was injured. Up until now, even Zishu had been optimistic enough to assume they would have time for it later, though. Time to use physical intimacy as an almost second meeting. To learn how they need each other in the quiet and the dark. To learn the ways they can be gentle, and the ways they can be fierce. To burn each other up in desperation and desire.

It seems too heartless to have it be a farewell instead.

Zhou Zishu lets out a long breath.

“…Not when you are drunk,” he says quietly.

Wen KeXing blinks at him in astonishment, eyes blown wide and round as saucers, clearly expecting a flat-out rejection.

A moment later, the blankets have been hastily flung aside, and he is staggering off of the bed has fast as he can. Which, as it turns out, is not very fast at all. Zhou Zishu easily catches him with one arm, lightly pushing him back into a seated position.

“Lao Wen, where do you think you are going?” he laughs.

“I need to sober up,” Wen KeXing explains, looking so serious about it that Zhou Zishu cannot help but reach out and pinch his cheek. Lao Wen slaps his hand away, his expression mulish.

“Don’t pout,” Zishu scolds, still chuckling, “It is too late to be staggering around someone else’s house. With my luck, you would drown yourself in the fish pond, and then BeiYuan and Wu Xi would be terribly put out.”

“But Ah Xu, if you won’t let me leave, and you won’t share the bed, just what do you want me to do?” Lao Wen complains. “Even if you don’t want to have sex, you should at least lay down and rest properly. I want you to get well as soon as possible.”

Zhou Zishu’s mouth stiffens slightly.

“I know.”

Wen KeXing’s brow furrows in concern. He reaches out a hand, long fingers hovering just above his heart, when Zhou Zishu catches them tightly in his own. He is not certain if Lao Wen could glean the truth about his condition from his pulse while still tipsy, but he is not about to run that risk tonight.

“Are the nails bothering you again?” Wen KeXing asks, doleful this time.

“No.”

It is not a lie.

“Then come to bed,” Lao Wen cajoles, using their joined hands to tug him closer, “I promise not to molest you unless you ask me to.”

Zhou Zishu makes a sound of grumbling disbelief, but still allows himself to be pulled down next to Wen KeXing. The bed is big enough for two, but only just. Lao Wen retrieves the formerly discarded blankets from whatever corner he had toss them and bundles them up together like two caterpillars in a single cocoon. His face is close beside him on the pillow, warm breath fanning the side of his neck. An arm drapes loosely about Zishu’s waist, and he turns his head slightly, intending to shoot a warning glare in the other man’s direction.

This is a mistake.

Wen KeXing’s eyes are dark and intense in the moonlight, half closed with either sleep or desire, it is hard to say. His lips part slightly as Zhou Zishu turns to him, and the hand draped around his waist clutches faintly at his robes as if on instinct. Both of them seem to have forgotten how to breathe.

“…Ah Xu, you can kiss me, if you like,” Lao Wen whispers finally, so soft it almost seems like a dream.

“What makes you think I want to kiss you?” he means it to sound teasing, but it comes out in almost a sigh.

“Because I want to kiss you,” Lao Wen replies matter-of-factly.

“I never thought of you as a pillar of self-restraint,” Zhou Zishu huffs.

“I promised to be a gentleman.”

Zishu closes his eyes and lets out a deep, soul-rattling sigh. He is almost glad he cannot smell the oils Wen KeXing uses in his hair or the trace of alcohol on his lips. The proximity is staggering enough all on its own.

“…It would not stop with a kiss,” he admits aloud to both of them.

He does not open his eyes again, but he can feel Wen KeXing’s body tremble slightly as he laughs, and that is almost as bad.

“Ah Xu, I would hardly complain,” he replies, testing his luck by shifting close enough so that their foreheads are lightly touching. “But you want to rest, and I want you rested, so it is no great loss, either way. You will still be here with me tomorrow, after all. There is no need to rush these things. Sometimes, a slow spring is sweeter.”

“Yes,” Zhou Zishu manages to reply around the lump lodged in his throat, “I will still be here tomorrow.”

#Word of Honor #Wenzhou #wen kexing #zhou zishu #fic #this was supposed to be all angsty #but they are SO EFFING FUNNY #it's so fun writing their banter #askdjghasdfgk #i am sorry #i have no idea what emotions this actually conveys at this point #i just work here

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taetaespeaches · 4 years

Text

“I still choose you every single day.”

seokjin x reader (or oc) genre: angst; fluff word count: 2.1K

a/n: Hi, lovelies! Here’s a minor angst, mostly fluff piece to end your weekend with. This takes place about two days after their big fight in “I want to be happy about this but I’m just so angry”. Though they resolve the fight in “Love, we need to talk” this drabble deals with the remaining emotions and tension. As always, I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))

WATCHING Jin sleep next to you, you wished you could keep him in that peaceful of a state forever. You’d been watching him take extra care of you the past couple days, choosing every word and action carefully as he tried to prove himself to you. His unconscious state each night was the only break he got from your mental burdens he always carried on his shoulders as if it was his responsibility to do so.

He had fallen asleep while you were spooning him, but you couldn’t fall into the same slumber. You stared at his back and you felt like soothing your hands across it, but you didn’t want to wake him.

The expanse of his back was large, his shoulders strong and wide. But it had to get tiresome carrying around his own worries, much less yours, didn’t it? And you had only added to the load, giving him more concerns.

There is a sense of responsibility you feel for a person when you love them so dearly. Their struggles are yours, and yours theirs. But part of that responsibility includes protecting each other’s happiness. It’s hard to come to terms with the realization that you aren’t contributing to your loved ones’ happiness, but are rather hindering it.

If only you could go back to two days ago. If only you could control your irrationalities.

Quietly and slowly, you peeled the blankets off your form, gently getting out of the bed. Creeping to the doorway, you turned to look at Jin still sleeping before you exited the bedroom. You continued your careful steps down the hallway as you made your way to the sofa.

As you sat in silence, staring out your window at the night sky, you thought about your recent fight with Jin. The idea of him not loving you seemed silly now, but you knew the feelings were very real at the time. But were those feelings conjured by his way of loving you or your way of receiving the love?

Sitting alone with your regrets, you started to realize it was on you. Of course you both were different and needed to meet each other in the middle more, but the big issue weighing on your mind was your own mental health and how it affected your relationship. Jin was an independent man, and he always had been, even when you were just friends. It never really bothered you unless you were having a rough time individually. That’s when the doubts crept in. And that wasn’t Jin’s fault.

A shadow appeared in the living room, silhouetted by the bright moon shining through the window, making you turn to look at Jin standing above you with messy bed hair and puffy eyes.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his voice quiet and husky.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you told him, watching as he pouted at you.

“Can I sit with you?” He asked, you smiling in response to his cuteness.

You patted the cushion next to you. “Come here, my love.” He sat down, immediately resting his head against your shoulder as you both stared out the window at the street lights that shined above the empty boulevards. You always loved the feeling of stillness in the very early hours of the morning. The outside world almost ceased to exist after 2 am.

Jin breathed deep and slow against your body and for a moment you almost thought he had fallen asleep. The poor man had been bending over backwards the last two days, trying to assure you and heal your wounds that he wasn’t even responsible for in the first place. It was heartbreaking seeing him try so hard to show something you both already knew he felt.

Just as you thought you were sure he was asleep, he rested his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly in his grasp. The roughness from the bandage on his pointer finger lightly scratched your skin, reminding you of the wound he’d received picking up the glass you broke two days earlier.

He insisted on picking up the glass from the tumbler you dropped and received a laceration on his finger pad. It turned out the injury was deeper than you both initially thought and kept bleeding for most of the day before, resulting in Jin having to change the bandage multiple times.

You gently ran your own pointer finger over the top of the bandage on the opposite side of the wound. “Does it still hurt?”

“Huh? No,” he shook his head, giving your leg another squeeze as if it proved he was healed. “I mean, not really, just a numb pain.” You lightly lifting his hand from your leg to study the digit. “It’s not bleeding anymore,” he told you. “Just a little sore.”

You hummed in thought. The wound wasn’t bleeding, but the pain was still there. Even if just a dull ache that was easily pushed aside in the busyness of the day, when things calmed down, the pain made itself known with a small throb.

When you shattered into pieces right in front of him, he attempted to collect your shards and he got cut. He put on a brave face, your man, but you knew that when everything slowed down, he was left with the lingering pain of your doubt.

Your unfounded skepticism in his love was pulling him apart, no matter how strong he tried to appear. You had projected your insecurities onto him and he absorbed them deep beneath his skin. You’d given him wounds, and maybe they weren’t bleeding, but they were solidifying into a little scar of remembrance.

“What are you thinking?” He asked you in a voice so quiet it was barely audible in the silence of the living room.

“You’re hurt,” you told him, dragging your finger tip along his knuckles as you kept your stare on his hand.

He leaned toward you, pressing his lips to your cheek bone. “Hardly,” he whispered against your face just before leaving a second sweet kiss. Resting his forehead against your temple, you sighed.

“No, I hurt you,” you told him, Jin pulling his head back to look at you in confusion, you slowly turning to meet his gaze. “I’m supposed to the one protecting you and here I am cutting you.”

Jin shook his head in negation. He knew what you meant but he refused to hear it. “The glass cut me, not you.”

“Jin,” you breathed out.

“What?” He asked you, suddenly looking much more awake than a few moments ago.

“Stop,” you whispered.

“Stop what?” He asked in confusion.

“Stop tiptoeing around me and just,” you paused for a small moment, Jin staring at you intently. “Just say something, yell at me, tell me how much I hurt you, I don’t know, just do something.”

“I don’t want to yell at you,” he told you, his eyebrows pulling together as his eyes traveled your face. You stared at him feeling pitiful for putting him through this. “I don’t.” You wanted to shake him until his held back words and pent up emotions came tumbling out. Even if the words came out as daggers, you wanted them.

He sighed, sitting up a bit as he took your hands in his. “I need you to understand this, ok?” He asked you, you staring at him attentively. “I love you, of course I do, and I have for a long time, but what’s even more important than that is I choose you. That’s a conscious decision I make each day.”

You felt tears prick your eyes at the words and his intense expression softened just a bit.

“We’re not so naïve to actually think that loving each other is easy every single day,” he told you with a sad edge in his voice. “Sometimes it’s hard, love. We’re stubborn, and occasionally we’re selfish, and sometimes we’re just on totally different pages and don’t even realize the other’s needs. But I still choose you,” he told you, holding your gaze as he talked. “Every single day.”

A tear slid down your cheek as you licked your lips. “I just don’t want to contribute to anything negative in your life, that’s not what a partner should do,” you told him and his eyes grew wider in surprise.

“I’m not saying I love it when we hurt each other or put each other through hell but it’s going to happen sometimes,” he said, squeezing your hands. “It’s not like we’re intentionally trying to cause the other harm. So, you get stuck in your head sometimes? So what?” He asked, so impassioned it was almost comical. “Those are the days choosing you is even more intentional.”

Your shock at his words must have shown in your face, because Jin’s lips quirked up just slightly. “What?”

“Why are you so good at talking?” You let out a small chuckle, Jin’s smile widening.

“I mean it though. Are you ok?” He asked, concern etched in his fingers as soon as the smile faded.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Do you have more?”

“Yeah,” he smiled just slightly once more.

“Keep going,” you told him, adjusting your sitting position so you could face him more directly.

“I don’t want to hear anything about you protecting me from you. You were headed there and I don’t want to hear it, because that’s ridiculous. Just like I choose you, I choose who and what I let affect me. I appreciate your support and I want it, I really do, but I don’t need you to save me. Especially from you,” he told you, you staring at him thoughtfully.

“I just don’t want you to be stuck picking up my pieces all the time,” you told him sadly, Jin shaking his head immediately.

“We’re in a relationship, love, I’m going to help you carry your burdens. You do the same for me all the time, are you seriously forgetting that?” You sighed, and he rolled his eyes, nearly making you smile. “The days you’re shattered on the floor, you bet your ass I’m going to be there picking up as many of your pieces as I can. If you want to lighten the load for both of us, start showing up for yourself,” he told you softly.

You both sat in silence, eyes locked on one another’s as you searched for your next words. “Do you want me to say one more thing?” He asked, a smile spreading across your face, unable to hold it back.

“Please,” you let out a small chuckle.

Jin smiled back, soothing his thumbs over the back of your hands. “When I say I choose you, I mean I choose the good and the not so good. I choose the woman who battles insecurities every single day, I choose the woman who sometimes lets her mind play tricks on her, I choose the woman who has so many feelings she doesn’t even know what to do with them all, I choose the woman who would probably literally kill for me, I choose the woman who nurtures the hell out of not only me but the six idiots I spend my life with, I choose the woman who somehow really genuinely laughs at my jokes,” he adorably ranted, making you giggle. “I choose the woman who supports every single thing I do as if it’s the greatest thing that’s ever been done,” he continued on, you falling against his body in embarrassment.

“Stop,” you whined against his chest.

“What, too much?” He asked, through an obvious smile, you laughing as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. “I’m just saying, I know exactly who I’m choosing and I don’t take my decision lightly.”

“Ah, fuck I love you a lot,” you mumbled against his t-shirt covered chest, Jin chuckling as he left a kiss to the top of your head.

“Yeah, I know you do,” he joked, you groaning in response. “What’s not to love?”

Sitting up, you glared at him. “You’re supposed to say it back.”

His eyes blew up wide as he got his ranting expression on. Oh god. “As if I didn’t just express my deep and profound love to you,” he yelled in exasperation, you giggling loudly at the man.

“Tell me again,” you teased, Jin lunging at you as he pushed your back to the couch cushions, you laughing as he did so.

“I choose you, I love you, you’re my world,” he started mumbling against your face as he pressed kisses to your features, you laughing and screaming at a volume that was much too loud for 3 am, but neither of you cared, finally feeling light and happy again for the first time in days, and really, months.

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peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

perfidy;tom holland|21

chapter 21: the film.

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

chapter summary: The puzzle, and not being able to pretend anymore

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: angst, fluffy angst, angst and more angst.

word count: 10.2 k

playlist(1: with song names)

playlist 2 (Spotify link)

Playlist: perf1Dy (one direction+solo songs)

social media before you read : Behind the scenes.

previous chapter Perennial-Prologue series masterlist

Hi :) thanks to @peachybloomss for being my beta reader.

Yes, this is the last chapter. No worries, Perennial is coming soon. (Next Friday!) But Here we go, anyways. Thanks for everyone who read this and for all the support. I hope you are as excited as I am for perennial, and well. Yes, I’m emotional you’ll be too. Cry with me.

Tom has cried with movies before. Most of us have. That unexplainable feeling that comes when watching their emotions, while rooting for the main character and seeing how it all tumbled down right before their eyes. You know, that cramp on your chest when the last hope dies, or that feeling when you don’t get a happy ending. But you know you couldn’t get one, and the bittersweet ending is the best you can hope for.

Yes, he’s cried with movies, not with movies like Titanic. No, no. Sure, it was sad. But not really the feeling they’d understand. He and y/n had talked about it, once, how neither of them had cried with that one. Even if they were so different, when it came to their emotions, they were very much alike.

And with movies, even if y/n could sometimes be one of those pretentious film students, if she enjoyed a movie, no matter how cinematically wrong it could be, she didn’t mind, she would cry. But Tom knew y/n was brilliant with emotions, she perfectly knew how to crush hearts with one sentence, with one idea for a scene. He’d seen her do it.

And that’s what led him there. Built-up scenes made to hurt him.

Tom had never felt this wrong. Like a dagger going through his chest. Dry mouth. Swollen lips. He’d swallowed his words. As if saying anything would rip off his throat.

He guessed it was his fault. Life paying off for crushing and loving his brother’s crush. It was a very complicated situation which he had yet to address with Harry. Yes, he had apologized. To his parents, to Harry, to Emma, well he had tried to, she hadn’t listened to him, and Emma’s parents. To Sam. Apologies for some sober thoughts that had accidentally transformed into drunken words.

He felt selfish, and he felt conflicted. If he’d done this to help Harry out, then why the hell did he feel so wrong?

But at least he had apologized. He had meant that apology. He was sorry, and he had said it.

Not to y/n, though. Not to y/n.

Did he have to? He probably did. Because he felt guilty because he knew that her words hadn’t been written in vain. She meant them.

He was too proud to admit that he missed her. That he’d gotten so used to waking up to her that now waking up alone made his stomach tie up in a knot. He had wanted to kiss her so badly his lips ached. He was too proud to admit that the nights were too long and that they arrived earlier, that the sun wasn’t coming out. Because he’d shown her his weakness and strengths. But it was just another story for her. A scene.

A movie he was crying with.

That’s the worst thing about heartbreak, the aftermath. Having to deal with the fact that she wasn’t there. Having to deal with the fact that no matter how angry, he still loved her. That’s the hard thing about heartbreaks. They hurt, but it’s harder to accept the fact that it probably won’t come back to what it used to be. The worst thing about heartbreak is that not even the pain can be able to take away your feelings; to think that he had the world and it vanished right in front of him, and think he had arrived at war with no weapons and she still had shot fire.

But he missed her.

And he felt it. And he was amazed by how well she knew the feeling. The heartbreak. A chest pain. An intermittent pressure in his chest. As if he couldn’t breathe. A void.

And it made him think. How she had gone through this kind of pain. How had she gotten up? How did she manage to get back around? How can you mend a broken heart? It’s impossible.

Because he remembered seeing her coming back slowly, and maybe it did make sense why when she was back on their family lunches and dinners, she’d have to excuse herself and her nose would be red when she came back. Or how she’d zone out. How she’d stay quiet, very very quiet.

Because words didn’t want to come out of his mouth. Because it had been a heartbreak caused by her. And caused by him. Now he regretted it. The damn morality speaking after drinking too much. And he shouldn’t have. He really shouldn’t have.

He’d heal. Not right now.

He couldn’t. He would, eventually. But not now. Or maybe he would if he saw her again. There was still that hopeful thought roaming around his mind. That they’d be able to work this out.

He wanted to.

He wanted to heal this, heal his sorrow. He wanted to live again, not like this. Not with this pain. How the hell had she done it? Live with the rain.

And maybe he wanted to forgive her. Because after all, she’d forgiven him.

But had she? If she’d done that, had she really forgiven him?

He needed answers.

God, not that, not even that. He just needed to see her, at least from afar. Or maybe he’d look out for her, kiss her one last time. Kiss her goodbye. Wake up from this nightmare.

He wanted this film to end already, he didn’t like it. He had cried with this one, even if he didn’t want to admit it out loud. Loving hurts.

This story was not the love story he thought he’d have with her. He needed another chance, even if they’d run out of them. What would he do if he never saw her again? What if they never had the chance to give explanations. Did she have one?

It wouldn't matter, she was home. And even if she’d hurt him, and even if he was bleeding, he knew he loved her, and he didn’t want to let her go.

And it seemed like fate had listened to his thoughts. He saw her car. And that old vintage car gave him hope, and it gave him memories, too. From their first breakfast together to when he believed it could lead somewhere. Loving can heal.

Was she in the same park as him? Was he looking for him? Maybe she was feeling the same. Maybe she too wanted to pause this for a little bit. He knew he did.

He was sitting down on a bench, Tessa running around, and back to him. He barely had any emotions and he wasn’t as cheerful to play with her. He felt numb. Yes, that’s it. Numb.

But he’d seen her car. She probably was nearby. Was she alone?

And what would he even say to her? Because he needed to apologize too. What kind of apology, he didn’t know, but he needed to apologize.

But he needed to see her, one last time. Even if it would hurt him, his last memory of her couldn’t be a picture of her on his phone. That’s not what he needed.

With pain, excitement, confusion and barely any hope of finding her, he started to look out. And he was expecting the worst. But he knew that she could mend his broken heart, and maybe it wouldn’t stop raining, but he’d enjoy it.

And maybe if someone had told him he’d regret it, he … probably wouldn’t, no, he would’ve searched for her anyway. Because maybe that was the only explanation he needed. As if he’d walked directly into a hurricane as if he was hit with a train.

He’d seen her, arms crossed as Harry was anxiously tapping his foot, avoiding her gaze. And maybe he should’ve run out right there, but he kept watching, because Tom was, beyond many things, stupidly stubborn.

She looked terrible, and that wasn’t normal of her. She looked grey, broken, weak. But she’d looked out for Harry, not for Tom. For Harry, maybe that was the explanation Tom needed. She wouldn’t look for him. And it hurt, because how many times had he not tried to call her these days, how many nights had he not craved the taste of her lips.

And she hadn’t looked up for him.

He couldn’t hear the conversation. He wasn’t close enough.

Harry was holding something, a bunch of papers. What was it?

They were angry, Tom could tell. Probably yelling at each other, their hands going up in the air, finger-pointing, fists, hands to the face. Harry stood back up, crossing his arms, Tom could tell his brother was angry, that his brother was exasperated. Holding his head, as y/n watched him and seemed stressed.

They were arguing.

But it seemed like a weird argument as if Harry didn’t want to hear what she was saying. Harry sat on the bench again as y/n moved her hands quickly, she didn’t know how to explain it.

And eventually, they both went quiet as they were both on the bench, Harry staring at the bunch of papers he was holding.

And then Harry was about to leave, and Tom saw y/n still had a lot to say so she followed after Harry.

But then, he saw it.

His world shattered.

Have you ever felt like the world is sinking? Have you ever felt the world spinning? And suddenly, he could hear every single noise. As if the city had suddenly decided to be loud, he heard car horns, children playing, couples arguing, alarms going off, every single noise getting louder as if someone was setting the fire, shooting. Too loud. The weather around him was getting so warm but he was only getting colder. His chest was shrinking, not leaving any more space for his heart, as it was pressed into a knot.

Tom was pretty sure he was about to faint.

Harry had his hands on her face and his lips on her. Harry had kissed y/n.

Harry was kissing y/n.

Harry and y/n kissed.

And he didn’t know how long it had been, but Tom felt like time had stopped for them and Tom, while the whole world was going too quickly. As if everything around kept going except for them.

Tom was sure he was hearing his heartbeat, a loud thud, his ears were buzzing.

He didn’t even notice he’d let go off Tessa’s leash, and he hadn’t even seen how Tessa had run to Harry, to interrupt the kiss. Harry’s hands had moved to her arms.

Y/N was terrified, she hadn’t moved, she had only frozen, didn’t even notice Tessa. Had she kissed him back? Tom hadn’t seen it. He couldn’t see anything. It was blurry.

She hadn’t kissed him again. And he hadn’t kissed her again. She was in shock, even… Shaking a bit. She didn’t even turn to see Tess.

Harry did, he turned to see Tessa, begging to be pet.she jumped to them.

Y/N shook her head, and turned back into reality, Tom could see she was breathing again. Both Harry and Y/N were in shock seeing the pup. It was going all in slow motion as if y/n and Harry both got the hint as they saw Tess. Y/N slowly looked up, and her eyes found Tom instantly, standing there. Weakly, he had just been shot and his knees were getting weaker by the minute, almost about to fall to the ground.

Y/N with Harry’s hands still on her arms tried to back away as she stared at Tom. She couldn’t map her emotions, that was clear.

Tom urged to rush, to leave. He couldn’t—get in their way.

He saw y/n opening her mouth to say something but he couldn’t hear about it. Everything kept going fast, and slow. Tom was going too slow.

But y/n walked out of Harry’s grip. Tom thought she would rush to him, she didn’t. She walked away from both of them, Harry stayed with Tessa.

Tom didn’t know how he managed to get back home, he didn’t know how he got there, he didn’t remember crossing any streets.

He had lost control, his heart was beating so fast, so loudly, it was going to burst out. He was barely breathing. He had to leave it all behind, that was the only answer he needed to any of the questions he’d asked in the darkness throughout these days and nights.

He probably shouldn’t have to live with it tomorrow, not with all this sorrow. Because that’s how it was supposed to be, right? Harry and her.

Though it hurt, he had to deal with it.

But had y/n kissed Harry back? Did y/n love Harry? Because y/n was an impossible case, and she probably didn’t even know it herself. That’s the problem with y/n, she never knows what she feels. She was never certain, she never did anything for the sake of doing it. She did it because she had a million reasons behind everything she did, she wasn’t spontaneous, she always loved to be premeditated. She always thinks about what she does, so that’s probably why she’d searched for Harry. Because she probably wanted to be with him. It had been her choice.

Tom got to his room, still blurry, he’d ignored Harrison, not because he wanted to but because he really couldn’t hear anything, his buzzing ears were not letting him. A headache was growing and he was slowly catching back his breath as he sat down on his bed. and when all his senses were coming back he saw an envelope.

The story had come alive. That was what he wanted, wasn’t it? Hadn’t he wanted all that his whole life? For his brother to be happy.

Then why the hell did he not want this? How selfish of Tom to be brokenhearted when he had no rights to. This was the way it was meant to be.

It would take him a few days, or months, or years even. He really didn’t want to see it. He needed to get used to the idea that Harry had kissed y/n. And he needed to get used to the idea of that. He knew he needed to get used to the idea that this was how it was supposed to be, the way it led there.

He saw his tv, paused on something. Maybe he had learned the wrong lesson. To fall into the shallow. But it didn’t make any sense. Harrison had told him she had been there before, had she been there to tell Tom how she was choosing Harry?

He shouldn’t have tried anything. Because his brother still loved y/n, if Harry had kissed y/n it had to mean that he still had feelings for him.

Nothing mattered, not even his heartbreak now. Because it hadn’t been Tom, y/n wasn’t supposed to love Tom. That’s a tragedy.

It’s clear they deserved each other, they were perfect together. Not Tom and y/n, no. That’s why throughout these years, they hadn’t worked out. Because they had always been at war, and they weren’t meant to be.

They deserved each other.

He stared at the envelope, ‘Tom’. That’s all it read. Her handwriting. He didn’t want to read it. A box, with his name.

The same box he’d seen in her room, the one box that he had wanted to open. But now he only wanted to throw it away.

How long had it been since their last kiss? It should’ve lasted longer, at least he would’ve made it worth it. It had been 16 hours, and three weeks, that’s how long it had been. But now it didn’t matter. Now he could be free knowing that she’d chosen him. Now he could ignore her, and now he didn’t need all the information she had from her.

He could stop pretending that he loved The Rolling Stones, and he could have dates that didn’t involve ‘a movie moment’, he could go out and have fun. He didn’t have to carry that stupid polaroid everywhere. He could go back to fancy restaurants, and not have to pretend he loved street hot dogs. And he could go back to not try and over analyse props on films, and he could go back to have it all simple. He didn’t have to remember the perfect pancake recipe, and he didn’t have to buy any more 80’s like clothes.

He didn’t have to pretend he cared anymore.

But he had to pretend he didn’t. Because he cared, and he did love all that stuff.

He looked up to his nightstand, yellow flowers and lavenders. And he thought about the ashes in his drawer.

He turned the TV off and opened the box. The first thing he saw was a bunch of papers. The script, printed. He picked it up and then opened his window, would he throw it all away? He gave it a second thought and then slammed it to the floor.

He sighed, took the flowers and then the script, he headed to the kitchen. He searched for a lighter and stared at the flowers and the papers, this probably was an inefficient way of accepting an apology. Maybe he was being cynical but he really didn’t want to see the flowers, and he knew that her apology wasn’t even real. He didn’t want to know what they meant.

He hated this. Because he shouldn’t be feeling this way, and though he wanted to be happy for his brother, Tom really wished it had been him. And he had believed it, that it would be them. And all he had to treasure now was New York.

And Rome. Rome.

Stupid to think that.

He wouldn’t do that again, because Tom was well aware of why he’d gone to Rome. Maybe he had been jealous, and selfish, and stupid. Yes, stupid. Because he had gone to Rome with a stupid excuse, a photoshoot. It wasn’t true. He had gone to search for her because she had been right, he couldn’t stand it, because he was arrogant and selfish and envious, and he loved her too much.

Rome had been a fairytale, even prettier than New York. So intimate, that’s probably when it should’ve started, it could’ve been prettier. Because somehow he had known that New York would be their downfall. In New York, they had touched their bodies, but in Rome, they had touched their souls. And they hadn’t even kissed. That’s how pretty it had been.

And it had all started as a dream.

Rome and New York were so different. New York was them trying to make up for all the times they could’ve kissed, and Rome felt like a summer breeze. And he still remembered that it was the time he knew he’d love her his whole life. With that pretty dress as she was holding her wine glass up, the sun hitting her face perfectly, with those red lips of her. Her laugh still echoed in his mind now and then.

A picture-perfect day. He knew that a polaroid of that day probably was hanging around her bedroom. In that alley, walls covered with plants build up until the roof with the chairs that never. A little restaurant, best pasta he’d ever had. The prettiest laugh he’d ever heard. But it had never been his.

He had been so selfish. Taking her away from Harry. And he wouldn’t do it again. No. Not again.

He needed to set it all on fire, the flowers and the script. He ignored Harrison again as he walked outside, ready to burn them. To erase the story, this was Tom burning their story. He didn’t want to read it ever again.

And he knew that it would leave a scar, and he knew that the ashes would stain, but they’d fade away with the wind. He’d had to wake up alone for a while. Did he have to do it now? Did he have to wait until he wasn’t as angry?

He sat in his garden, not ready to do it. He wasn’t ready to erase her. He didn’t want to.

But he picked up the first page, and he started to light it up in fire, seeing how it was dwindling.

“She didn’t kiss me back,” a voice said.

And Tom swore he had felt like a knife had been stabbed right on his back. He knew whose voice it was. He didn’t want to acknowledge he was there.

“Tom.”

Tom stayed quiet and then picked up the second page, but he didn’t light this one up. He saw Tess had approached him, she was back. And that only confirmed it.

“She loves you. You know?” Harry pushed again.

Tom pursed his lips, as he stared at the lighter. He kept quiet.

“Don’t burn it.”

Tom turned to his brother. How stupid it was they were fighting for a girl.

“And do you love her?” Tom asked.

Harry sat across him. “I don’t know.”

That was the answer he didn’t need to hear.

Tom looked up. He hadn’t really talked to Harry. They’ve said ‘sorry’, and then ignored each other. He knew his relationship with his brother was bruised forever. How would Harry forgive him? He probably wouldn’t. And could he forgive him for kissing y/n? But Harry didn’t have to apologize to him.

“I don’t know,” Harry repeated. “I thought….” He sighed. “All my life I thought it would feel different.”

Tom stayed quiet.

“Dunno why I did that,” Harry gulped her. “The worst thing that could happen to me was losing her and now I pushed her out.

Tom watched him.

“Now she’ll be a stranger, huh, we can’t fix this,” Harry gulped. “She gave this to me,” he said showing the same bunch of papers that Tom had received this morning. Harry took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have done it.”

“What?”

“Kissing her. I guess I thought I would lose nothing. I knew I’d lost her already and I lost Emma.”

“You haven’t lost Emma.”

Harry smiled sadly. “She gave the ring back,” he shook his head. “I don’t blame her. I was still confused.” Harry scowled. “Well, I dunno. I guess Emma realized it, and I blame myself, I always did give it to Y/N. I know I always moved mountains for her, and I can’t blame Emma. And I can’t believe I made Emma feel less important, and I wouldn’t blame her. No, I can’t believe I let the love of my life go for something that I knew would never grow. And I didn’t… I didn’t do it for that, you know?”

Tom looked down at the script he was about to burn.

“But after years of loving someone knowing that at some point they loved you… It’s scary, and stupid and you hate timing, of course, I’d be confused. And It wasn’t like I wanted to be with her, you know? And I can’t believe I did that, because I want her to be happy, and I wanted you to be happy, hell we shouldn’t even have… I dunno, Tom.”

“I shouldn’t have dated her,” Tom said.

“No, that’s where you’re fucking wrong, Tom, when you love someone you do something about it,” Harry said. “You don’t--You don’t have to wait, look at the mess that comes when you don’t say what you really mean.”

“How do you really feel about her?” Tom asked.

“I don’t know. I guess I always wondered how she felt about me. She always felt guilty, I know that, I could see it, how any time I tried to make a move, she’d feel guilty. Just like she did today as if she felt bad that she can’t reciprocate. I think she forced herself back before Rome, as if she was trying to accept it, it didn’t feel… natural. Not even for me, even today, when I kissed her it felt… Weird.”

Tom frowned.

“And we’ve made a mess, and… I don’t know.”

“How did it feel weird?” asked Tom.

Harry was sad, Tom could tell his brother was probably trying to hide away the fact that he probably was broken-hearted too. Somehow, he felt that his brother was lying. Tom knew his brother, and Tom knew that Harry didn’t mean what he was saying.

“It was gross,” Harry said after a while, probably trying to word it outright. Because he had seen Harry’s stress fade away when his lips had landed on y/n’s. Harry hid his hands in his pockets.

“What?” Tom frowned.

“I kissed her and it was gross,” Harry snapped, clenched his jaw. He fidgeted with his hand. “She didn’t kiss back and I have no…. Feelings for her. I know that. And she doesn’t love me.”

Harry was lying. Clearly.

Tom watched him and pointed at the script. “Read that.”

Harry shrugged. “I only read the ending,” He explained. “And judging by your reaction it’s exactly what you didn’t read.”

Tom crossed his arms. “She wanted it to be you.”

Harry shook his head. “But it isn’t.”

“And do you want to be?” Tom asked.

Harry shook his head looking down. “I know she wants it to be you,” He explained.

“But do you still love her?”

“I think I’m never going to stop loving her, really,” Harry said. “It’s been years for me, don’t know how long it’s been for you, but feelings never really fade away. They transform. I think… I don’t know, I’ve made a fool out of myself for her and I don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to go. I don’t know. I’ve spent my whole life crushing on her eyes, and her smile, memorizing every single thing about her, her favorite songs, her favorite films. Knowing how to make her laugh, and knowing who made her cry. If she likes silver earrings or gold ones, it depends on her dress. The way that she drinks coffee in the morning and tea in the afternoon, two cups if it’s raining. I know which song I can play to make her dance and I know that she is so stubborn, that even if she won’t like an ice cream, she’ll try it anyway the very next day.” Harry nodded slowly, to himself. “I know that she still sleeps with that plush frog and if she travels or forgets it, she’ll end up hugging a pillow.”

Tom didn’t know what to say. His brother knew y/n, perfectly. And he was right, he’d seen y/n lookout for a pillow in her sleep to hug, a small pillow even if she was holding Tom, she’d always unconsciously search for a small pillow.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about her, Tom,” Harry gulped. “How many poems she’s written about you, and how many times she’s cancelled plans for you. I know why she didn’t show up to the premiere that one time. I know her first kiss wasn’t that Nicholas guy, and I know she always ends up buying the same shade of red lipstick every now in a while, and that she always ends up boxing them.” Harry bit his lip. “I know that her most sincere smile came the day you took her to prom, and I know that she really did love you and she’ll keep choosing you.”

Tom looked away.

“Do I love her? I don’t know. But if you’re asking if the kiss could lead to anything more, no, it wouldn’t from me and it wouldn’t from her. Because we both know she’ll end up choosing you.”

Harry walked away Leaving Tom confused. This wasn’t his brother’s fault. Maybe y/n’s. Probably y/n’s.

“But yes,” Harry sighed. “I still love her, always will.”

“You fucking lied you know?” Tom said. “To me, to y/n, to Emma. Especially to Emma. You still love y/n. “

Harry stopped as if he was going to turn and say something, he didn’t, he kept walking.

Tom didn’t know what that meant. He didn’t want to know it, he was not going to do anything. What was there to do?

But she hadn’t kissed Harry back. Tom watched Harry leave, and then stared at the script. He didn’t want to think about it. Had Harry given him his blessing? And did he even want it? Did he want to go back to that place with y/n?

He didn’t want to read the script, though. Not even if the ending changed everything. He really didn’t want to go there, not right now at least.

He needed time. So he’d take even more days. She didn’t reach out for him. He didn’t reach out for her.

Both of them were quiet. Very, very quiet. He didn’t know if it hurt him more that she hadn’t told him anything about it. Or if he understood it, did she have to tell him anything?

Maybe she didn’t want to.

Because Harry had spoken for himself, but Harry didn’t know if nothing had been awakened on y/n. Maybe y/n had had her own explanation.

Tom had his, though. Maybe Harry hadn’t done much because he knew y/n was in love with Tom. But Harry didn’t know how y/n had wanted it to be y/n.

Y/N eventually called him.

He didn’t answer.

And she called again.

He didn’t answer.

And again.

Maybe she gave up.

But she left a voicemail. Tom didn’t listen to it. Because why the hell should he?

He had let the flowers die. He hadn’t burned them. He had ignored it. A dvd, a box and an envelope.

And he had purposefully avoided them, because he still had something to look up for. It wasn’t a memory, it was something he could still look forward to. But he was curious. Very, very curious. Why had y/n bothered to bring her box to him.

And it bothered him. He had asked Haz when she’d brought it. And it made sense that she had closed the door to Tom. But what the hell was on it?

He couldn’t help himself, he opened it, but then he closed it again. He was furious, defeated.

He opened it again. And it hurt, opening it. Polaroids, from their dates in New York, from Rome, and the first polaroid from two months ago, with Tom smiling as he was eating a pancake, another one from the time Tom asked her out, lipsticks,a beer bottle from that lunch with their parents, a napkin that had ‘NY hot dogs’ written on it, the plane ticket from their first date, a baseball she’d bought after that other one, a dried out yellow flower, pebbles, more pictures,, a drawing, movie tickets, a spiderman toy, a broken teacup from that time they were kids and Tom had accidentally stepped on it, an xbox broken controller, he remembered it, perfectly the controller that had stopped working right after their first kiss.

A lego piece, a Barbie-- he remembered that one, he’d cut her hair and y/n had cried. And many, many more things that were only tokens… For what?

Tokens of their… relationship. As he was taking out each and every object he was reminded of every single thing. As if every time he touched an object, a memory flooded his brain. The yellow flowered dress she’d worn to Harry's party was the one that hurt the most. A wine bottle, a beer cap . Lipsticks, many lipsticks. An old lighter. The Sour Patch empty bag from that same night at the hotdogs….

Maybe Tom was wrong, maybe their story wasn’t New York and maybe their story wasn’t only Rome. For how long had she built this?

He kept going through it, toys from their childhood, a package of cigarettes, a hair comb and…

A pregnancy test?

A pregnancy test.

A pregnancy test!

Tom suddenly felt cold as he saw it laying down on that corner of the box, waiting for it to be seen. He didn’t want to see it. Was she pregnant?

Was this… Was he going to be a dad? He had to take care of her, and the baby. Was this her way of telling him? And how would it work? Did they have to make it work? What the hell was he going to do?

But it couldn’t be.

No, but it could.

“Fuck.”

It didn’t make any sense. But it could make sense. They hadn’t really stopped… New York had been fun. But had it been?

But fuck, this couldn’t… It could be. But why hadn’t she told him before? How the hell… When had she found out? He had been an idiot for waiting so long. Maybe he should call her. What was he even going to tell her? He was sweating cold. He would take care of them, but fuck, how complicated would it be? And poor baby, the whole story their parents had. Fuck, this was going to be difficult.

He blinked as he slowly reached out for it. He felt it. That fear. But… a baby could solve their problems, but what king of bloody thinning was that?

And he finally reached for it, snatching it quickly and bringing it up to his sight.

One lined. It was negative.

And Tom felt a relief. Not because he didn’t want to be a father, but because his relationship with her was too complicated and adding a baby would ruin everything, or would it? Was he really thinking about that?

He couldn’t have a baby, for god’s sake. No, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t, though. He didn’t have to worry about that.

He laughed, slightly. He knew y/n, she probably had done this exactly to get that reaction. But it hurt, to think she was giving all of this back. Because that meant she didn’t want to have them anymore.

He looked up for the DVD next. He decided to play it.

It felt weird.

“Hello! This is y/n!” An old video started. With barely any resolution, as a young, probably 4 year old y/n was speaking to the camera, her face too close, and her lips purple stained.

Tom sat on his bed, staring at the video in front of him.

She lifted up the almost finished purple popsicle, and pointed behind her. “There’s Tom, ugly Tom,” she said as she moved to her hand to angle just slightly right to show Tom sucking on a blue popsicle. “There’s—Jamesy!” She said as she pointed the camera to her brother, too busy away kicking a football. “He’s playing! And I’m here—So I stole my mum’s new—campera—camra, camera, and we’re gonna—“

“Bloooooooooooop!” Tom has snatched the camera from her as he recorded his face just as he ran away.

“Tooom, no, give it back, it’s mine!” Y/N could be seen running after him.

“It’s not, it’s not!” Tom laughed. “Too slow, y/n!”

Y/N was already tearing up. “Tom!”

“It’s mine!” Tom laughed.

“Tom give it back!” She continued, and the young innocent voice faded away and grew into a deeper voice.

“Tom give it back—“an older y/n appeared on the screen now, from a few weeks ago. Back in New York, on set, as Tom was running away with her phone. “give me my phone back.”

This had been just weeks before, when her smile still made him smile. When he wasn’t a fool.

“No,” he lifted the phone out of her reach. The sight of Tom watching her, as she walked over.

“Thomas,” she laughed. “Can you give it back?”

“What for? you were already recording my pretty face, I’m only helping you!” He laughed as he scrunched his nose to the camera. “I don’t even know what kind of vid you want here, so I’ll just—“

“Baby!” She complained as she tried to reach for it.

He smirked as he turned to her. “Baby? Oh, so I’m baby now,” he grinned. “You’ve never called me baby.”

She blushed, instantly. “Give it back, dumbass.”

“That sounds more like you.”

“Can I have my phone back?” She asked, Tom grinned as he walked to her.

“Yeah,” he smirked. “I’ll only just—“he pointed the camera at her face, she tried to snatch it away. “Can you wait? A second?”

She laughed and crossed her arms. Tom only pointed the camera at them before placing a long kiss to her lips.

“oh—shit, oh shit, shit, shit, y/n and Tom are kissing. Fucking hell!” A voice said over their kiss, before switching to the video it belonged to.

The prom kiss, a Snapchat video from someone who had been coincidentally recording the part. Y/N and Tom in a little corner as they kept kissing.

“It’s y/n and Tom, right? Yessss bloody hell!” “Bloody hell!” “Tom—and y/n—“

“Tom and y/n!” The voice said as it turned yet into a different video. “They’re dancing—“ Elaine’s voice was speaking now.

“They’re adorable,” Nikki's voice said on camera.

“They’re not fighting!”

It had been at that wedding, when y/n looked adorable with that pink dress.

Tom remembered that night. It was the night he finally admitted it out loud to himself. “I like y/n.” Shortly after the first yellow flowers.

And they were dancing. Children being silly, holding hands but throwing them up in the air.

“But they’re dancing!” Elaine commented again.

And as Tom twirled y/n, another video appeared. A most recent one, too. When they had been sillying around at Tom’s dance rehearsal. After their Dirty Dancing moment.

“Okay, y/n,” the choreographer said. “Come here, Tom, pretend she’s Maddie.”

“Why would I do that?” Tom laughed, as he brought her close to him. “And how would I? Y/N here is a terrible dancer.”

She chuckled. “Shut up!”

“Unless she’s drunk,” Tom pointed out.

Tom kept watching the video, videos of them transitioning from children, to teenage years, to Rome, to New York, to everything. As if the videos proved how they hadn’t changed, just transformed.

Feelings never fade away.

Tom wasn’t even watching it. What was the point of that? Why did he… feel like this? He finally opened the envelope. A few pages. At first, Tom thought it was a script. It wasn’t. It was… a letter.

Dear Tom, Hello, To you,

Tom.

Yes, I’m sticking with that one. Sorry if I scratch things. Sorry for the bad orthography, grammar or the unfinished thoughts. No, that’s not the thing I should be apologizing for, but it’s a beginning. I’m writing this from my heart and I am trying to write this as sincerely as possible. It’s what you deserve. I initially wanted to think all of this through but I realized that if I let the pen flow, I’ll get to say everything I want to say. I also thought I would try and tell all of this in person but I’m afraid you won’t listen to everything I want to say. This is easier.

You know me. I always have second thoughts and I never do anything that isn’t premeditated. This was the most spontaneous thing I could do, I just picked up the first paper I saw, so yes, it’s stained with coffee.

How does one even begin to write a letter? This is not the kind of stuff I like doing. I’m not good at this. Hell, I don’t know if you’ll even read this. I don’t know if you watched it. That DVD. Hope you did. I really hope you’re watching it.

Though it might be stupid and cheesy and probably not really the romantic gesture you’d expect from me, I have no choice. Because I’m really trying to prove a point here.

I initially thought I would write a script, you know, write a story to make you understand my point of view, but now I barely want to, a script ruined the best thing I ever had. But I guess, it also started it.

I wish I’d told you sooner and I really wish it hadn’t started that way, but it made it start.

You see, that script is the biggest con I’ve ever tricked myself into, making myself believe I would be doing it for a stupid script, when in reality, I guess it’s all I wanted, for you to fall in love with me. I shielded myself saying I would break your heart, I shielded myself saying it was only for the sake of my job. When it really wasn’t. It was me trying to give it another chance. I blew it all up.

And yes. I did write I wanted to break your heart. I don’t even know why. Why did I have to break what I love so much?

Want to know a secret? I never knew how I would do that. My “plan” went as far as to make you fall in love with me, no further shenanigans, because, really, that’s all I really wanted. I didn’t know how I’d break your heart. I didn’t have any plans because I knew I really didn’t want to. I only wanted you to love me.

Hope you did.

Hope you didn’t, too. Because if you didn’t, then I will at least pretend I didn’t hurt you as much.

I know I did. And it’s fucked up, very fucked up.

I’ve been struggling to find the right words to tell you. I know sorry won’t cut it. It’s not enough.

And since I know you don’t read until the end, I am really doubting if I’ll give this to you. It’s not on you, I wouldn’t have read it. Maybe I’m just writing for myself, probably. But it helps. I’ve never been good with words, which is ironic, I’m a screenwriter, or I pretended to be one, I guess. You know me, I’m more about moments. I’m more about little details.

I did send you the script, though. It’s in that box. It’s yours. Keep it. Burn it. Rip it off. Do whatever you want with it. I don’t blame you.

It’s yours.

But it’s there. With a lot of other things. Things that finally explained something I haven’t understood for a while. Until now.

I think that among these years, I’ve found myself in a predicament. You’ve seen it. You’ve heard it. And I’m pretty sure you’ve said it.

I don’t love who I’m supposed to love.

That’s the reason behind it right? I’d like to think so.

That’s what they said, right? I don’t love who I’m supposed to. Not the perfect guy, not the guy who’s been there all along.

And everyone said it, you should date him, that guy it’s your endgame. But I didn’t—feel it.

Maybe for a bit, I did. But I ended up coming back to you.

I didn’t love who I was supposed to love. And that’s what the script said, too. I don’t love the guy who has danced with me under the rain, or the guy who’s taken the best picture of me under the rain too.

No. I love the guy who’s probably the worst thing that could ever happen to me, and who’ll probably be away most of the time. I love the guy who was the storm.

But I still love him. So dearly. And so much. And I miss him. I really miss you.

And I’m sorry.

Really sorry. You don’t know how sorry I am. I can’t believe I fucked up that much.

I am the monster. Not you. I fucked up. And I can’t blame you if you don’t ever want to see me again, I understand it. And I won’t blame you if you burn this. I can’t blame you, I’d probably do the same.

But I’m sorry.

I can’t believe I did this to you, the love of my life.

But it all comes to that. Doesn’t it?

I don’t love who I’m supposed to love.

Except, Tom. I do. That’s what we’ve both got wrong. I do love who I’m supposed to love.

Searching through our memories, I wanted to build up the puzzle, understand every situation that’s led us to where we are now. To two very broken hearts. To lost battles. To understand why I loved someone who has crushed my heart into tiny little pieces, throw it into the ground and then step on it.

You read it, how I described you. How I described what I was doing. How I said you were a monster. How you hurt me. How you were only my…

Perfidy.

1: the quality or state of being faithless or disloyal: TREACHERY.

2: an act or an instance of disloyalty

3: deceitfulness; untrustworthiness.

It’s a war concept, it was used to refer to someone who won someone’s trust only to betray them. Must like us.

We don’t make sense, do we?

I tried to understand a lot about us, and I think I’ve found the answer. It’s complicated, bare with me, and please, this time, keep reading. I can’t afford losing you to another unfinished story. I already lost you, I know.

I know where we went wrong.

We thought of each other as a war, a game, a prank, an apology. And we didn’t have to, that’s where we went wrong. I guess we really were blinded by the idea of a sworn enemy that we walked in thinking this was a war and waiting for the other one to shoot first, when nobody should’ve shot.

All is fair in love and war. But don’t get those two mixed up, because then, it’ll be all unfair.

That’s our problem, you even said it, a war song reminded you of me, I used to describe you with a war concept.

We thought this was war Tom. And it shouldn’t have been. It didn’t feel like one.

And I don’t even know what to tell you now. This wasn’t a war zone. We were wrong. We didn’t have to be careful, we didn’t have to. And I shouldn’t have pulled the perfect perfidy.

But after years of battles, did we expect not to?

The fact that you love me, if you do, and I really hope you do, doesn't change the fact that you hurt me. I think that’s the best thing we can do for now, accept the fact that we’ve both hurt each other so much.

I did write you were a monster. And yes, most things in the script are true. I guess I have to acknowledge it. I own it, I wrote it.

Yes. I love you.

But I can’t pretend I didn’t cry for months, I can’t pretend that night at the club I felt like the whole world tumbled upon me. Because it did. And you know it. I can’t pretend I wasn’t diagnosed with a broken heart and I can’t pretend that I really started this thinking you’ll do it again.

I can’t pretend I was alright, and that your name didn’t feel like a dagger for a while.

It would be stupid for me if I said you never hurt me. And I know, I know, I fucked up this time. This time was on me, but Tom, really. How many times did I not cry for you?

How many times did I not trash my room because it had you all over the place? I can’t pretend that didn’t happen.

Yes, the script narrated that. I can’t pretend it didn’t happen.

But I also can’t pretend that I won’t come back to you. I can't pretend I don’t love you. Because I do, and I loved every single kiss. I can’t pretend all those good times didn’t happen.

And yet, even after every battle. I come back to you. Because I am supposed to love you.

And I tried to build it up. And you know what? It makes sense.

I don’t know if you’ve seen the DVD, in my stupid mind, because you know me, everything is for the story, the aesthetic, but in my mind the DVD is playing right as you read this, in the background. Maybe you look up a little, smile at something and turn back. You probably aren’t. You probably won’t.

He was, actually. The video stayed in the background. He looked up to see it,

“So we’re here at y/n’s 18th birthday party. She’s currently sober. As your biggest enemy y/n I need to have on record on how you’ll get wasted.”

“Shut up dumbass.”

“You shut up idiot!”Tom said.

“Shut up!” Another Tom appeared on camera, turning to a different video, of her dorm room in Rome, Tom was by the window.

“No no, sing again I want to hear you sing,” y/n said behind the camera. She approached him, and opened the window.

“I’m not going to sing,” Tom warned again.

“Come on, everyone in Rome wants to listen to you,” she laughed as she stuck her phone out from the window, recording the beautiful afternoon in the italian city.

“No.”

“Ah, come on, maybe go downstairs and serenade me,” she suggested.

We haven’t changed Tom. Or maybe we have, for the better. But I hope you see it, I am supposed to love you.

And I know you probably want me to go fuck myself, I get it. Maybe this letter will be burned.

I’d do it.

Like those yellow flowers you gave me. I shouldn’t have burnt all of them. Should’ve kept one.

But that DVD, it shows it. You are the guy I was supposed to fall in love with, we’ve built it upon our whole lives. Or maybe we were destined to tumble down. You choose.

I really like to think we are both so stupid that we are meant to be. Maybe that’s toxic.

Probably, yes.

But we have to change it, don’t we? Maybe not.

But we did change it. It just took me a few minutes to realize we transformed all the bad things into good things.

And hell, they were very nice, while it lasted, weren’t they?

We’re the same stupid kids, Tom.

Either we’ve hated each other our whole lives and we fucked up by falling in love. Or we were madly in love and fucked up by hating each other.

Either way, we fucked up.

I also gave you a box, yes that same box you saw in my bedroom, it has your name and it’s scratched and ripped, a little. You don’t know how many times I’ve had to hide that box. And I’ve kicked it and I’ve repaired it.

Inside you will find more of the puzzle I solved. Polaroids, picture-perfect memories, an empty box of pasta, lipsticks, a beer cap, that yellow-flowered dress I wore that day. Everything that’s led us here. Memories that I used to either remind myself that you were stupid, or that I was stupidly in love with you.

I hope you remember most of the stories. I know I do. They’ve built us up to who we were. Like that broken teacup, that teacup was around the time I was about 5, maybe 6. It was kind of the first time you made me cry, ugly cry.

There’s that Xbox controller that stopped working before our first kiss. Do you remember it? That’s why you were the only one playing.

It’s weird now that I think about it. And stupid, how I’ve been in love with the guy who gave me my first kiss for my whole life. Sounds pathetic out of context. Maybe even more with context.

Don’t know if you found the pregnancy test. If not, there’s one in there. Yes, I was scared, it was a few days ago, I was so bloody scared, a baby? Having a baby? At first, I thought, it doesn’t make any sense but it would, considering our… routine in New York. But it was negative. Hurray, I guess.

And yes, a dried out yellow flower. No, you didn’t give me that one. You know it, I’ve never kept any yellow flowers you’ve given me, ones I threw them away, the second ones I gave them back and we know what happened to the third one. So no, you didn’t give me the yellow flower on that box. That one. It’s got a story. After Rome, yes. I once stared at that box, and I promised myself I wouldn’t fall in love with you. I broke my promise. I never fell out of love.

And I remember one day, I was with Timothée, actually. We were on a date, and I remember the day was so bright, the sun was shining again. After all those grey storms, the sun had come out again. I was smiling, I was laughing again.

Don’t know if I’ll ever be able to again. I’m sure of this, I’m never going to New York again.

But I was with Timmy that day, we were in that café I used to go with him, outside. I had noticed from the early beginning of the date that we were sitting by near a kid with a spiderman t-shirt. I didn’t really think of you at that time, I kept on with my date. I did… feel something, maybe a little jump inside of me. I remember I ignored it.

Because... I was so happy, genuinely happy. I thought I had come out of the tunnel. Didn’t want to ruin it. And I remember as I saw the vase on our table, full of yellow flowers. I cried instantly. Couldn’t explain it to Timmy at the time, but I did take it out and kept it.

Sounds stupid, doesn’t it? The power the flowers have. I cried while I got the ones I sent you.

I guess that’s why I used that yellow-flowered dress. I don’t know. I was trying to tell you I wanted to turn it into something beautiful.

You know, Tom. Whenever I used to think of you initially I thought into frogs, yellow flowers and my hair being pulled. Broken tea cups, and stupid games that would get me full of dirt.

Then it changed, to a first kiss, dancing to an 80’s song and late night with videogames.

Then again it was prom night, with that pink dress I used, the first lipstick I had to box in here because I didn’t want to wear it anymore because you had kissed my lips while I was wearing it, and you guessed it, yellow flowers.

For a while, it was a mix of all of that, you bothering me, a kiss, unusable lipsticks, yellow flowers, dancing, frogs. Endless discussions, broken bones. Stupid, silly things.

For a while to think of you, it meant pain, yellow flowers, a nightclub and Rome.

I thought that would never change anymore.

But look at me now, whenever I think of you I think of pancakes, yes my favorite food, Of an elevator, dirty dancing, again an 80’s song, and laughing, and kissing, and other stuffing.

Sometimes what you expect never comes, but it’s the unexpected that changes your life. All I knew the day after we said you loved me was that I needed to be there forever. And I already know your worst, but hell, I wish I can still learn your best. You feel like home, Tom. You feel like it’s raining outside, and you feel like a crowded buzzing city, with people rushing, but you feel like coming back home to a warm pair of arms.

And I really hate that you had to see my worst when I should’ve given you my very best.

And now I won’t have that box, and I’ll give back every polaroid because I don't want them haunting them, and because I don’t need anything to remind me that I fucked up, because I know I won’t have you anymore.

How am I supposed to deal with this?

I don’t know if I can live with this, knowing you’ve touched and kissed spots the sun has yet to see, and it probably won’t ever see them. You’re a fast learner, you know? You knew every single beauty spot, even the ones I didn't know I had, you’ve learned them. The most sensible and subtle touch, the sensitive cardinal points. Underneath our clothes, under the sheets, you learned my story how am I supposed to live with this? Knowing that my body will now remind me of you? How stupid does that sound? You know it now Tom. I’ll never go to war again, I’ll never shoot again. I promise.

If it’s not clear yet...

It’s you. It’s always been you. No matter how cheesy it sounds, it’s you and I don’t want to hide it. Because you own it, you know? the place where my thoughts hide. My thoughts, my heart, fuck, even my body now. It should’ve been an endless story, and maybe it is. And now I know I’ll keep seeing you everywhere, because I’ll be able to smell your skin in some of my clothes. And I know I’ll see your shadow in the moonlight, and I know I won’t be able to sleep now that I can’t hear your heartbeat next to mine.

And I won’t pretend I’m alright this time. I don’t think I’ll be able to.

And I’m sorry, and I will never forgive myself for hurting you. I shouldn’t have. I should’ve explained it to you sooner. But right now, I doubt there’s anything I can say now. I think all apologies are worn out. We’ve been good at apologies. But we are gone, aren’t we?

And though I still want to fight for this, I still would go to war for you, I don’t want to stay in a narrative that includes hurting. I don’t want to stay in a narrative where I’m fighting for an ending that won’t be read. I’m choosing to stay away, maybe we’ll write a different ending next time, not right now, because I can’t afford living knowing I ruined the amazing relationship the love of my life and my best friend have. And though I know I’m losing you both, I’d rather stick with more good memories than bad ones.

I don’t even know what I wrote here, I don't know if it’s too much or maybe it’s not enough, I just wrote for the first time something spontaneous.

I don’t want to promise I’ll stay away, I’m not good at keeping promises. I just want you to know that I really liked our film, I’m just going to pretend it never ended. In my mind, we will be infinite, everlasting. And maybe in another story, in another script, I’ll find a way to make you stay this time, and we will find a way to get out of the warzone.

With love,

y/n.

Tom finished the letter as he hunched his shoulders, the DVD had kept on playing and he looked up just to get the last stone to hit him.

“The princess?” A younger y/n asked, to yet another video, this one seemed different. Not recorded by their parents. “Alright, so the princess is going to…save the prince!” Y/n explained to Tom. “Because she is in love with him!”

“Why does it have to be a princess?” Tom frowned. “Why not be a superhero! Besides, it should be me who saves the damsel!” Tom pushed.

“This is my movie, Thomas,” y/n complained. She was wearing her yellow princess dress.

“This is my movie, Thomas,” he mimicked. He groaned. “Why can’t I be the dragon? Why does Sam get to be the dragon?”

“Because you’re the prince!” Y/n said with a bright smile.

He took the script off her hands. “What does it even say?” He asked as he read it. “This is stupid!”

“No, it’s not!”

Tom frowned. “Why would we kiss?” He wrinkled his nose as he stuck his tongue out.

“Because we like each other.”

And then it faded out. It had all been so quickly. And Tom had to think about it. If they loved each other. Why the hell wouldn't they kiss? Why the hell couldn’t they be together? It didn’t take him more than two minutes to stand up and decidedly go and look out for her. He had made one quick stop, but then he had rushed to her building. He had used the stairs, the elevator had taken too long. He couldn’t wait to see her.

And when it hadn’t been her, the one who had opened the door, Tom didn’t know how he was feeling.

“Oh, another one with flowers, great,” The girl said, she had a clearly not british accent. She looked very similar to y/n though.

“What?” Tom asked. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Yes, first one brought peonies, second one daisies and you… what are these?”

“I don’t… I don’t know,” Tom gulped. “I’m… Where’s y/n?”

“Seems like we have… Chamomile, primroses, evening primroses that is, and… Heleniums,” The girl pointed out as he stared at the flowers Tom was holding. “Huh, what’s up with y/n having three hot guys bringing her flowers, girl is lucky.”

“Who--who are you?”

“I’m y/n’s cousin, Cherry, nice to meet you, Tom I presume.”

Tom blinked, in shock. “Where’s y/n?”

“She’s gone now, buddy. Left London this morning.”

The end?

previous chapter Perennial-Prologue series masterlist

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