#anyway i saw some lovely ocs and felt inspired to make one of my own so hope y'all enjoy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

purplekiwis · 2 years

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𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗜𝗡 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡🔸

Summary: Tracy Turner's Valentine's Night plans couldn't have kicked off any worse... but could it be that stumbling into a secret, private club after hours changed the fate of her night?

Warnings: A bit of ANGST, some CURSING, and a shitload of SMUT

Wordcount: 13k

AN: Is it too late to post a Valentine's Day themed fic? Probably but I'll do it anyway! This story is set in San Francisco, in 1986 🌞 It's also inspired by a bunch of 80's songs, and especially “Chain Reaction” by Diana Ross 💗

P.S: Even though the main character of this story is an oc, I made an effort to keep my descriptions of her physique to a minimum, so that it was all still somewhat bleary and inclusive ✨

I had a date tonight.

He had told me to put on something fancy before he left, so I did.

I wore red because he liked it - a turtleneck striped sweater, a miniskirt and matching gogo boots. I even pulled my roller set from the back of the drawer to try and tame my feathered hair into something resembling of the trendy Farrah Fawcett waves. Needless to say that that didn't go as planned, but it wasn't a total disaster either. I felt pretty and that was what mattered... a little frustrated too, once I saw the wall clock’s hands tick past the time he had promised to be home to pick me up.

A car honked outside, and I ran to the porch window to look. A huff left my lips when I saw it wasn't Andrew… just my neighbor's friend who happened to own a car of the same model he did - a 1974 Ford Maverick, that was currently pulled over the side of the road. I watched through the drapes as my neighbor fled out of the house sheltered under a vinyl umbrella and slid inside the car, where the driver greeted her with a passionate kiss.

The car's windshield wipers were on full blast, which reminded me that Andrew should also be driving in rainy weather. Before I knew it, I was nervously chewing on my thumb, as a vast collection of worst-case scenarios came popping into my head. Andrew had always been a fast driver, and the worn tires on that old car of his should have been changed months ago... but money had been tight – It always was, with me working at the five-and-dime and him constantly jumping from one temporary job to another.

He had never been the hardworking kind, and neither had I, but I tried… I showed up on time on the days my boss was there, smiled at rude costumers, and did my best not to spend much on myself...

I couldn't say the same about him.

That was the main topic of discussion under our roof - Andrew's spending habits. He bought more than he could afford and was never willing to make sacrifices - he went for a beer with the boys every night, while I stayed home and invited my friends over. He ate our leftovers outside meals, while I took less food into my plate than I wanted. He made foolish investments, promises he couldn’t keep, and never, ever put my or our interests first when it came to money.

Remembering these things was starting to make me feel angry, but I was more worried than anything else. For every extra minute that passed, there were 8 more laps I made from one side to the other of the hallway.

I was starting to get a bad feeling about his lateness but decided not to focus on that. It was Valentine’s Day, and he had promised this morning that he would take me somewhere nice… where we would eat duck in orange sauce and share a bottle of chardonnay… and then we’d go for a moonlit walk in the park before he drove us home, where he would make love to me.

I knew his promises weren’t to be trusted, but surely he wouldn’t let me down like this, would he?

I had probably just misunderstood the time of our reservations. That's what I told myself while I slung my leather coat over my shoulders and grabbed my purse from the hanger stand - just so he didn’t have to wait for me when he arrived.

And I waited.

And waited.

But that feeling of relief didn't last, once I realized he was drunk – not just drunk, but rotten. My arms naturally crossed over my chest while I stood there speechless, watching my boyfriend stroll inside the house without a care – hollering about football and dropping beer from the bottle in his hand onto the lobby rug.

Until he showed - two hours later and accompanied by two snarky big guys that I knew to be his friends.

“Oh my god!” I jumped up from the sofa, where I had ended up sitting after many minutes of standing by the front door like a dog waiting for its owner. The first emotion that went through me was relief, in finding my boyfriend was still in one piece and not dead in a ditch somewhere, like I was starting to worry he might be.

I could feel the indignation starting to bubble inside me, taking over my features and heart. “Andrew!” I yelled, but frankly I don't think he heard me. It was like I was invisible in his world, a world filled with nothing but beer, chants of victory and body sweat, apparently.

“Andrew!” I repeated, louder this time, what finally got the three heads to turn to me. Upon taking notice of my angered disposition, Andrew’s bulky friends exchanged a look in between them. As if they were debating if they should leave, but I saved them the time – “Out.” I growled, before they could take another step towards the sofa, where I knew they were headed. They followed my order, shutting the door behind them.

“Tracyyy!” Andrew sang back at me. The shit-faced grin he portrayed made me want to smack him unconscious on the spot, but I refrained from it… I needed to yell at him first.

The thing was I was at a loss of words - I couldn't believe this was the life I was living - a life where my boyfriend had stood me up on our special day to go get smashed instead. It wasn't unusual for Andrew to come home like this, but I expected more today. Maybe that was my problem… that I continued to expect different from him, even when everything I despised about him remained the same.

The sudden sound of a clash and porcelain shattering cut through my thoughts.

Andrew, who was moving like a stranger inside his own house, had bumped on the accent table on his way inside the living room - sending the lamp perched over it tumbling down. “Oh shit. My bad,” He paced back with his hands raised, stepping all over the shards and causing them to break into even smaller pieces.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” I finally managed to shout. His eyes jumped to mine, and what I saw in them disgusted me. He was staring at me with lust - like I was prey he had an appetite for.

“Tracy, Tracy, Tracy...” He murmured my name as he advanced – or stumbled – towards me. “You look so fuckin’ good…” He hissed through his teeth, reaching out to grab and kiss me.

“Get off!” I used my arms and hands to push him off my face. “Your breath reeks of beer - it’s disgusting.” I spat bitterly, shoving his shoulders back to force him to plunge on the sofa.

When faced with my rejection, Andrew groaned. “Right… let me hear it, what the fuck did I do to you this time?”

I scoffed a laugh, in utter disbelief. “Are you kidding me, right now? We had a date tonight, Andrew! A date you didn’t show up to!”

He sighed. “Yes, I know we had a date but baby… didn’t you watch the news? The niners won their first game of the season today. Do you have any idea of how big that is for us? It’s huge - and it’s also why I had to go celebrate with the guys...”

I shut my eyes and breathed in effort to calm down. “Are you… talking about football right now?”

“Yes, Tracy… the niners. As in, the best football team of all time.” He scoffed condescendingly, like he thought my question was dumb. “Oh, babe you should have seen them… Joe Cool was blistering through that field. The man was unstoppable. It was… fuckin’ epic.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable…” I shook my head, incredulous at his words. I could have been forgiving if he'd forgotten… it was something that could happen to anyone... but clearly, that wasn’t the case this time. Andrew had remembered the plans he’d made with me, and consciously decided not to follow through with them. His reason? A frigging football match. That! That was his reason. - “Why Andrew? Just… why?” I yelled in exasperation but all I got back was a vacant look. There wasn't a single flash of regret in his drunken eyes. It was like he couldn’t even see that he’d hurt me. “Why do you do this to me? Why am I always the one thing that comes last on your priority list?”

“Are you really going to start a fight over this? It was a fuckin’ dinner date, Tracy. We can go tomorrow.” I snorted at the utterance of that phrase. – “We’ll go tomorrow” – That was what he always said… but then, when the time came, we never got to go.

I let out a desperate sigh, running my hands through my hair. “No, Andrew. We can't! Because today was the day. It was today! Not tomorrow. Not the day after. Today!”

Andrew’s voice rose at my tone, now much more exalted. “And what does that even matter? It's a day, like any other day. It doesn't have to mean anything.”

“It meant something to me, goddamn it!” I finally snapped, stomping my foot hard enough to make the broken pieces of porcelain on the floor dither. Hot, mascara dyed tears began to stream down my disgruntled face, leaving traces of black in their wake.

Andrew stared at me wide-eyed when he noticed them. “Jesus Tracy, calm down… you don't have to cry.” He sneered. “If you’d told me dinner was this important to you, I obviously wouldn’t have missed it. Christ… I mean, you could have just said something instead of-”

“That’s the problem! I shouldn’t have to say anything.” I sobbed, even though I knew it wasn't going to be worth it. How could I expect him to understand the motives of my anger, when he couldn't even see I had motives to be angry? - “Do you even realize how selfish it is of you to ask that? You shouldn't be breaking promises! You shouldn’t even be making them if you're not counting on keeping them!”

“Oh so now I'm the selfish one? You’re the one who’s never satisfied with anything I do! You’re so fucking ungrateful, and then you cry just to make me feel sorry.”

I blew out a scathing laugh. “Oh I wish making you feel sorry was that fucking easy…”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch all the time it would be.”

His accusation made me flinch. I fell silent for a moment, once again left speechless. We argued sometimes, but he had never stooped so low as to call me that. “What did you just call me?” I asked, incredulous.

Andrew squirmed uncomfortably on the sofa. I could tell he knew he'd said the wrong thing, but it was too late to take it back. “It’s what you’re being right now…” He said with a shrug.

Andrew’s reply didn’t surprise me. I knew better than to expect an apology from him. That was another thing about Andrew, the word Sorry never seemed to be part of his lexicon…

That was the kind of guy he was.

That was the kind of guy I was dating.

In this case, however, it didn't matter if he chose to apologize or not... he had called me a bitch - that was something I could never excuse.

I walked out of the room for a moment, just for as long as it took me to reach the closet where I knew Andrew’s sports bags were. I picked one at random - the first one I got my hands on - and took it back with me to the living room. “Here.” I tossed it into his lap, harshly and with no preamble. “I’m giving you half an hour to pack your things and walk out that door.” I said as I put my coat back on and shouldered my purse, considering I had stripped off both during my long wait. “I’m going for a walk. When I come back I want you gone. You can come get the rest of your stuff tomorrow.”

“What?” He practically barked, leaning forward on the sofa. “Are you out of your mind? You can’t kick me out - this is my house too!”

“Why are you never in it then?” I asked, knowing he would have no answer to give me. “Besides, I was already living here before you moved in from your parents’s. All you have to do is go back to where you were months ago. It's not like it's going to make much of a difference to you anyway.”

“Tracy, wait…” I was already on my way towards the front door when I heard Andrew’s calls for my name. My intention was to ignore them, but unfortunately I couldn’t because in his drunken state he had somehow managed to get up and come after me. “So that’s how it’s going to be? I screw up once and you decide to throw it all away?”

“Once…” I repeated through a humorless chuckle, turning although my fist remained firmly wrapped around the doorknob. “When’s our anniversary, Andrew?” I asked suddenly, what took him by surprise. I knew he didn't know because the date had gone unnoticed by him months ago. “What’s my favorite flower?” He had never given me any. If he had, he'd know that whatever he chose would become my favorite. “What’s my biggest dream?” I asked and on his part, again, there was silence.

“Babe c’mon, we don’t have to do this...” He supplicated, grabbing my wrist, and forcing me to stop and face him again. “Look, I’m sorry okay? I know I haven't been the nicest lately, but I love you… can't you see that?”

I rolled my eyes and turned my back to him. There was nothing about his statement that rang true. I turned the knob, but he tugged on my wrist and tried to kiss me again. “Stop! Just stop!” I pushed him back, irritated by his insistence – and once I opened my mouth next, it was like every syllable coming from it trembled with emotion. “It’s always like this with you and I’m done! I’m done with hearing the same crap over and over only for it not to mean anything!”

Andrew was still coming after me when I opened the door and ran down the outside stairs that led to the porch, but thankfully he gave up on following suit once he saw me step under the pouring rain and start walking up the street with no destination in mind.

The idea of bringing an umbrella completely passed me by in the midst of everything else, and now it seemed that it was raining even more than the last time I looked out the window. I didn't care though, the cold rainwater felt sobering as it poured over my hot, heavy head – morphing my already withered Farrah waves into a cascade of unflattering wet strands.

The water dripped down my shivery body and ran beneath the sidewalk gullies under my feet as I walked. The crunch of my soles on the wet floor reminded me that I was by myself.

Not just out on the street, but in my love life as well.

A trickle of guilt shot down my spine, but I made a conscious effort to ignore it. My decision hadn’t been rushed… I had been considering ending my relationship with Andrew for months, but for some reason I always ended up changing my mind… afraid I would end up regretting it.

I knew Andrew wasn’t the type to change and still, I persisted. I gave him endless opportunities by tricking my brain into believing he was going to do better next time around… even if, deep down, I knew I was setting myself up for disappointment. – Being around Andrew was always going to be like this. Like sailing through life without an anchor to support me.

Up until this point I had made the choice to put up with that…

But not anymore.

And I felt good with my decision.

Not so much with the decision to go out alone after dark though. Due to the deterrent creeps running over my skin at the sight of two suspicious-looking guys leaning around the street's corner. I wasn't one to judge by looks... Living in San Francisco, it was common to run into scary-looking strangers. I felt comfortable around groups of loud protestants and punks with spiky hair and ripped t-shirts, but something about the way these men were looking at me made me feel uneasy - enough to have me walking to the other side of the road before I crossed paths with them.

Their eyes wouldn't let go of me as trudged the small street that led to Alamo Square Park. I hoped that there would be more people there... and this wish only intensified once one of the men whistled as I walked past them. I pretended not to hear… just quickened my step and sharpened my ears to detect any kind of movement on their part, and lo and behold: there were footsteps trailing behind me. “What’s the matter sweetheart?” An eerie voice asked from my back. “Are you feeling down? Me and my friend would love to feel you up.”

“Fuck off.” I replied in a bad mood. My legs sped up even more, while my eyes kept dancing all around, looking for an open establishment I could enter but there was nothing here - the street was deserted and I still had more than 5 minutes to go until I reached my destination.

“O-Oh… feisty, and she’s got a filthy mouth on her too…” Another guy said behind me, and I hated the grisly tone in which he spoke.

I wanted to tell them to fuck off again, but I knew that wasn't the smartest thing to do taken the fact they had found it amusing the first time. “Leave me alone, I’m not interested.” I said instead, making an impulsive decision to turn to a street on my left, in the hope that it would throw them off and make them stop following me.

It didn’t work, they kept walking after me. “Where are you going, sweetie? Trying to run from us?” I heard their footsteps getting faster, so I sprinted. I didn't know where I was going, but I knew the area and had passed these streets before. There was a set of stairs to my right, and I ran down them. It was tempting to look back and see if my pursuers were getting closer as I ran, but I refused to do it. Instead, I kept running further - through alleys, back streets, passageways, and parking lots.

My mouth tasted of blood due to the racing heart pounding in my chest and the adrenaline pumping through my veins. Water splashed under my feet, making my footsteps audible even in the streets adjacent to the one where I was currently at. My body was asking for a break, but I didn't know if I could give it that – I was terrified. I had never been in such a situation before… sure, I had been catcalled before, but never stalked to the point where I was legitimately afraid for my life.

I dared to glance behind my back, sighing in relief once I saw that there was no one there anymore. “Holy fucking shit…” I finally allowed myself to breathe, leaning against a wall of a building hidden in the shadows. There was a store on the first floor, but it had been shut for a while by the looks of it - the windows were covered with old newspapers, and the door sign that marked it as a hardware store also looked a bit outdated. Something about its placement looked offbeat however, it made me wonder if that was the reason why they had gone off the market... it couldn't have been easy to captivate customers being so hidden down an alleyway.

At least the storefront had an awning where I could shelter from the rain - not that it was worth much now that the water had seeped through all the layers of my clothes, but at least it gave me a little solace. My body was freezing, but there was still so much adrenaline running in my system that I didn't even notice I was shaking until I felt my teeth chatter.

All I wanted to do was go back home, take a warm shower, go to bed, and forget that this terrible, terrible day had ever happened… but I couldn't, not just because Andrew should still be there by now, but also because I was hearing heavy footsteps again, coming from somewhere close – probably one of the streets surrounding me. I covered my mouth with my hand and slipped further into the darkness, silently praying for a way out to help me get home safely.

As if the universe was listening to my prayers, once I pressed my body against the wall where I thought I was less likely to be spotted, my ears took notice of a drumming coming from within the building I was hiding outside of. That was when I finally realized where exactly I was. I had heard about this place – The Hardware – through the vine before. It was a homey thing. A private club. I had a few friends who came often, but I had never… I had always assumed for the place to be a bit dodgy – Why would its existence be made known solely by a word of mouth system if they had nothing to hide, after all?

But now it was my best option...

I could hear the voices and steps becoming louder and clearer. They were getting closer – I knew if I stayed here, it was only going to be a matter of time until they found me…

So I rang the doorbell - relentlessly, until I finally saw the sliding peephole pulling open, and a set of eyes come into view - a set of surprisingly kind, light in color and sober looking eyes. A deep voice followed before I managed to get a single word out. “Password please.” It asked pressingly.

The request surprised me… I knew the place was restrictive, but never in a million years would I have expected to be asked for a bloody password. “Uh...” I rambled for a beat, searching every corner of my brain for something, anything... surely my friends had mentioned it around me before... but of course I hadn't thought to memorize it. “I can’t remember what it is, but-”

“Sorry dear.” The man interrupted, sounding more like a record when he said, “No password, no entry.”

“No, no, no – listen, you’ve got to let me in.” I muttered urgently, before he got the chance to close the peephole in my face. “These guys- they’re chasing me and I'm alone out here.” I hated the way my voice sounded – all pitchy and wavery from despair, but I was too nervous to stay quiet. “ Please, just for a little while. I'll be out in a minute, I swear.”

I figured my hopelessness had somehow appealed to this man’s heart, because he seemed to be actually debating over my words, eyes focused on mine until he finally asked, “What’s your name?”

“Tracy.” I shivered. “Tracy Turner.”

It didn’t take longer than a few seconds for the door before me to creak open. Automatically, my lips parted to thank whoever kind soul had agreed to let me inside, but the gentle touch of their hand on my back ushered me in before I could.

When inside, the first thing I noticed were the clouds of smoke swirling in the air… and the colorful cocktails and beer being prepared and served at the counter. Brother Louie by Modern Talking rumbled through the club speakers, courtesy of the disco jockey mixing records of swooshing electronic music with heavy basslines.

The atmosphere of the club was interesting, and not nearly as subversive as I had imagined when I learned of the existence of such a place. There didn't seem to be anything illegal going on... there was no contraband or obscene sex happening, just a hodgepodge of fashionable, frizzy haired party people dancing and socializing with each other.

“The rain got you bad,” The raspy voice from earlier caught me off guard once it spoke beside me, making my eyes flicker up to finally get a good look of whoever I’d persuaded into letting me inside the privy club I was at. As I did, I felt warmth wash over me as if I’d soaked into that bath I so desperately craved. He was… a stunner.

Starting with his beautiful eyes that I had already met through the peephole - specked with shades of green and blue that reminded me of a forest pond. His eyes wouldn't be that big of an issue though… if only the rest of his face wasn’t just as equally mesmerizing - with lips the color of watermelon sorbet and features just like they describe in romance novels. Even his hair was dreamy, for god’s sake... sleek, yet messy with the occasional self-willed curl falling over his forehead.

But the worst part had to be the groovy, carefree charm he exuded… that had my foolish heart skipping a beat when he said, “Christ love, you’re freezing cold…” I was going to tell him I wasn't, in fact it was even quite sweltry inside the bar when compared to the weather outside… but he had just touched my soaked clothes, and he seemed quite distressed over them. “Come with me, yeah? Let's get you something to dry up.”

I nodded and followed him, not wanting to undo his will when he’d been so kind to me. Besides, I figured me, and my wet clothes might be drawing a little too much attention for his liking… supposing that he'd get in trouble with whoever owned this club if they realized I was an intruder he'd let in. He took me behind the bar, and then through a door next to the counter, into the service room – from where he rushed to gather two clean bar towels. “Here,” he said, extending them towards me. “They’re not very big so, if you need more, please just suit yourself.”

“Oh-uhm, one should be fine… and thank you. You really didn't have to.”

“It’s no problem, really.” The guy chuckled, turning around to spread open a beaded curtain at the back of the room. There was a wooden staircase behind it. “Give me a minute, will you? I'll be right back.” He told me, but before I could answer he had already vanished behind the bracket of multicolored beads and was now climbing up the stairs at a brisk pace.

When alone in the room, I finally allowed myself to take a deep breath - something I felt I hadn't done since I'd seen the man. Dear god... tall, handsome, and friendly? No wonder they kept him locked in here… he was a menace to the rest of the male species out there.

I brought one of the towels to my nose out of curiosity, it smelled fresh and flowery. I used it to dry my hair first, squeezing out as much rainwater as I could before I made use of the second towel to wipe my face and clothes. My heart raced when I heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and even more so when the curtain opened. He held a blanket scarf in his hands, that was promptly laid over my shoulders. “It’s a bit bohemian, but it should keep you warm…” He smiled. “I’m Harry, by the way.”

“Tracy.” I smiled at him, adjusting the blanket over my shoulders a bit. “Thank you, for letting me inside… and the towels, and this. You really didn't have to...”

“Aish… don’t mention it, yeah? It’s the least I could do.” He turned his back to me for a moment, but the lack of answer from my part had his head tilting around to face me. “Are you okay?”

“No, yeah. I’m okay. It was just… a bad night, to say the least.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, “Those guys that were bothering you… what’s up with that?”

“I don’t know them. I was out for a walk when they approached me- I would’ve ignored them, but I was upset ‘cause I had gotten into a fight with my boyf- I mean, ex. He’s my ex.” Harry's brows jumped at my admission. His reaction intrigued me, but I didn't know what to make of it, so I carried on. “I talked back at them. And from there they started following me and wouldn’t-” My talking got cut off by one of the bartenders swinging the door open. Her eyes widened as she poked her mullet head inside. She reached for a bottle behind me, muttering a small “Sorry,” as she left. Her surprised reaction reminded me that I was an intruder in this club, and even more so in its service room. “Are you sure it's okay for me to be here? I don't want you to get in trouble with your boss over this...” I asked Harry, feeling a little sheepish.

He chuckled at my assumption. “Nah... you’re fine. Boss's a tranquil guy.” He said, pausing for an instant before finally adding, “It’s me. I’m the boss.” He smiled at my surprised face before bending down to pick up the towels I'd used. “Which, by the way... if there’s a next time you want to come, the password is Clandestine. Feel free to spread it around with friends, yeah? But only the nice ones...”

My mouth parted around a stunned breath, too puzzled to speak as I watched him toss the used towels onto a basket to wash. “Wait, so you actually want me to spread the word around?” I asked, what made his head snap up with a nod. “I thought- Isn't this like- a super exclusive club? As in, a ‘to be kept on the hush’ club?”

“Well… it is, sort of, but it still needs promotion and new customers just as much as any regular club does...”

My brows knit slightly. “Why not just make it a regular club, then?”

“Honestly?” Harry’s expression sobered as he leant back against a cupboard and crossed his arms. “Do you want the absolute, unfiltered truth Tracy Turner?” He asked menacingly, although his face was still traced with humor. I nodded positively, mirroring his stance. “Okay well, let’s see… It’s homier. The taxes are cheaper. I don't have to entertain idiots I don't want in here, plus... the secretiveness keeps the customers coming. People love secrets, Tracy Turner… and love to spread them too, it’s why new people show up here every day.”

“So how do you keep it a secret and promote it at the same time? That sounds like a catch-22 situation.”

Harry coughed a genuine laugh at my question, angling his head a little to the side in thought. “Well, I’d say the key to the deal is finding balance between periods of admission and restriction for new customers, and of course, changing the password from time to time to keep that feel of exclusivity… Oh! and never revealing any of this to any curious, pretty customers who ask…” He said, and then with a cheeky smile gracing his features, he added, “Suppose I still have a bit of work to do on that last one, hm?” He winked, and I felt my cheeks blush but luckily, he saved me the embarrassment of answering when he turned around and casually asked, “Do you like hot chocolate, Tracy Turner?”

“I- um, yes. I like hot chocolate.” I mumbled, taking a curious peek over his shoulder to see what he was up to – drinking chocolate, obviously.

My tongue was itching to tell Harry that he didn’t have to make me one, but the thing was… I wasn’t sure that he was making it for me, and I didn’t want to risk making a fool of myself, so I decided to keep quiet (and also, an eye out to make sure he wasn't spiking it… better safe than sorry, isn’t that what they always say?

“Do you want sugar in yours?”

I breathed out in relief at the question. Finally. A chance to say something. “Oh no, I’m okay.” I spat quickly, ignoring his question. “You don’t have to make me one.”

“Are you not in the mood for one?” He asked, looking a little let down by my response. “It’s on the house... I wasn’t planning to charge you for it.”

I contemplated saying I wasn’t but honestly, a cup of hot chocolate sounded fantastic… warm, sweet, and soothing to my sad, empty stomach. “No. I am, but-” I reached for my purse, to pull out my wallet. “I'll pay for it.”

“Sure, alright.” Harry shrugged, extending out an open hand. “Cadbury is ten dollars a spoon. I added two, plus the milk… that'll be thirty dollars, please.” My eyes widened at his price, unsure if he was joking but praying he was. “I'm kidding. It's free, okay? No one ever buys it so you're doing me a favor just by helping me drink it.”

I drew in a breath, feeling my cheeks warm as I hesitantly breathed out my response, “Oh-um… okay, then.”

Harry’s dimples winked at me. “Soo.. sugar?”

“Just half a spoon, please.”

I stood silent for a while as I admired Harry finish stirring the chocolate in our drinks and putting them to warm in the microwave. Once it dinged, he opened the fridge and took out a can of Reddi-wip, that he used to top our drinks with a swirl Chantilly cream. Plus a dash of cinnamon powder.

“Alright. There you go, Tracy Turner.” He said, handing me one of the amber colored glass mugs. “Is it good? Warm enough?”

“It’s perfect. Thank you.” I said, even before I put the edge to my mouth to taste it. “It looks beautiful too, with the cinnamon...”

Harry chuckled, lifting the mug to his mouth for a sip. A lick of whipped cream underlined his top lip, stuck to his stubble. I broke a smile at it, until he got the hint and wiped it off. Shaking his head and turning a light shade of pink, he murmured sheepishly “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

I wanted to tell him that I found it cute, but I refrained from it. That would be weird to say to a stranger, wouldn’t it?

“It’s okay.” I said instead, “It happens to me all the time too.” My face lowered to my mug and as if to prove a point, a thin strand of hair flit from my fringe and dipped right into the whipped cream. “See?”

Harry was staring at my face, but his attention seemed to be on something other than my messy ways. “Do you like it? Is it good?”

“Yeah, it’s… really good.”

We finished our drinks in between shared moments of comfortable silence and casual conversation. I liked the way Harry talked to me, like he genuinely wanted to get to know me. He would ask about my interests, in a spontaneous and casual way. All small things, really… such as what part of town I liked the most and what kind of gigs I liked to go to. To be completely frank, I was enjoying the attention more than anything else... even though I knew it was cordial.

What could I say? Being the target of someone’s interest and company felt nice for a change. Really nice. Nice enough to make me overlook the chilly temperature outside to have a cigarette at the back of the bar, just so we could keep talking.

“What did you come down here for? It's too cold for you outside!” Harry scolded me. Half seriously, half-jokingly when he saw me walk out the back door right after he'd told me he was going for a smoke… but would come back to pester me some more in no time. His words, not mine.

“I’m here for the same thing you are.” I laughed, taking my pack of cigarettes and lighter out of my bag. I lit one, trying my best to ignore my shaky lips and fingers as I took the first puff.

“You could’ve smoked inside. I just don't do it out of habit, but everyone else does…”

“It's fine. I'll have to go home in a bit anyway, so it's not like a little cold now is going to make much difference.” I chuckled behind the smoke coming from my mouth.

We smoked quietly for a while, leaning against the back wall side by side until Harry broke the silence with a question, “May I ask where you live?” I was going to tell him my address, but his hand stole my attention when it touched my wrist. “Don’t hit me with street names please, I can never figure my way around like that.”

Harry’s grip dropped the next second, leaving behind a tingly vacancy. I felt like my reasoning had left with his touch, but thankfully after a silent note I finally managed to ask, “Do you know where the Hotel Majestic is?” He hummed around his cigarette in confirmation. “It's on that street. Not the one that shows the front of the hotel, but one of the sides.” I clarified, taking another conscious drag.

“But you walked here, right?” He asked, blowing out a thick cloud of white smoke into the air. I nodded. “Do you have someone coming to pick you up?”

“Oh no, I wish...” I jerked my shoulders, partially to hide a shiver. “I don't mind the walking though, it's not that far anyway...”

Harry opposed. “I can't let you walk home by yourself at this hour…” He affirmed with a brisk shake of his head as he reached down to put out his cigarette on the sidewalk. “Especially after what you told me happened earlier.” He threw the butt in the trash and held the lid open, noticing I was putting mine out too. “I'll drive you home, okay? Just give me a few minutes to shut everything down. We’re already pushing past closing time anyway.”

“No I- I can't accept that.” I fretted, tossing my cigarette into the bin after him. I didn't comment on it, but I liked the fact that he was careful not to leave his cigarette butts on the floor… or on the flower beds by the door. “You've already done too much for me, plus I'm used to walking around at night and nothing ever happened... other than that thing earlier, but I'm sure it won't happen again anytime soon.”

I held Harry's blanket tighter around me when a gust of wind blew over us, making the pink flowers tremble in their beds. Thankfully, Harry felt the cold too and walked to the door, opening it. “It will definitely not happen tonight, because I’m taking you home...” He said calmy as he ushered us back inside. “I’ll keep you company walking in case you don't want to get in my car… which I completely understand if you don’t, by the way.”

“No, it’s not that- it’s just… not necessary. I go for walks at night all the time and-”

“I want to, okay?” Harry ensured, smiling. “You are fun to talk to, Tracy Turner. And I want to get to know you better, so… if you think I'm insufferable you better speak now, ‘cause otherwise I'm not budging.”

I huffed, hoping it would blow the giddiness off my face. “Alright. Fine, under the condition that you'll let me help around a little while you close the club.”

Harry snorted, crossing his arms as he leaned against one of the walls. “Do you have any experience working in the field, Miss Tracy?”

I pursed my lips at the question. “Not exactly but I do have loads of experience scrubbing counters, washing dishes, sweeping and mopping floors.”

“That's a deal, then.” Harry grinned, holding out his hand. “I’m hiring you for the night, Tracy Turner. Better not let me down.”

I grabbed it immediately, thinking he was going for a playful handshake. Instead, he led me out of the service room – his hand clasping mine until we were back behind the bar, with our senses getting swarmed by the loud and smokey atmosphere going on in the club's main room.

Billy Idol’s Rebel Yell seemed to have awakened the craziest side of the dancing part of the audience, that gathered in front of the DJ booth jumping with their arms in the air. They looked to be having a great time, which made me feel a little sorry when I saw Harry wave at the jokey and mutter something about wrapping things up.

The man nodded once, but let the tape run until the song ended. His kindness didn't amount to much, however… for as soon as the music stopped, a roar of boos and hoos broke through the sudden silence, coming from a batch of disgruntled heads in crowd.

“Hey-hey, cool down peeps!” Harry shouted from behind the counter. He didn't look miffed by their complaints however, but more so entertained in a way. “There'll be more of the same tomorrow. Same time, same place… We’ll be having a Run DMC tribute night- make sure not to miss it! Those are always fun!”

I waited for most of the clients to clear out before I turned to Harry again, “So… what can I do?” I asked, looking around.

“Oh uhh… you can… let’s see… go have a seat?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Seriously love, you don’t have to do anything...”

“Yes but I want to!” I replied convincingly. “Okay. Tell me, should I go wipe the tables or... wait! I need to pick all the glasses first, don’t I? Can I use a tray for leverage or is that lame?”

The mullet girl from earlier laughed at my noticeable lack of experience, what Harry saw as a chance to introduce me to her, along with the rest of the staff members. “So… this is Tracy. Today’s her first day and, by the look of things… the last day she’ll be working with us also.”

His playful nagging got them to laugh but caused my lips to go droopy from dejection. “Hey! How come? I haven't even broken anything yet...”

“Yet.” Harry rehashed my word. I pouted again. “Aiish… don't pout with those pretty lips at me! That’s playing dirty…” He bantered, before head-signaling towards the tables area. “I’ll clear them and you wipe after me. How does that sound?”

He thought my lips were pretty?

“Sounds good.” I nodded, trying not to pay too much attention to what he'd said about my lips.

It was just a form of expression...

Surely. It had to have been that… And yet, the fact that I believed so did nothing to stop that sentence of his from lingering in the back of my mind the entire time we worked together cleaning the tables.

Was he interested? I thought his lips to be quite nice too… especially when they split into a big smile or laugh at something I said or did. I really liked the way he carried himself too… his easy breezy attitude… tall physique… bedraggled hair...

Crap! Was I interested?

No. I couldn’t be… Harry was just handsome. Very handsome, and acting all nice and attentive towards me. Plus it was Valentine’s Day, and I had just broken up with mine...

I was just vulnerable and needy.

That was what I was choosing to let myself believe, because how else would I justify my craving for another man already? What kind of person did that make of me?

I should be at home crying for the idiot who let me down, or for the duck in orange sauce that I never got to eat, but instead I was back at the rear of the bar, watching a cloud of smoke break through a practical stranger's lips, wondering if they tasted as deliciously pink as they looked…

“I was just realizing,” Harry started, smiling sideways at me. “You haven’t told me what you do for a living yet…”

“Oh.” I jolted, feeling a little embarrassed about the answer I had to give him. I had been counting my blessings over the fact he hadn't asked me, but I knew it was only a matter of time until my luck ran out. “I work at a five-and-dime near where I live… It’s not the nicest job but… I make do.”

“I get it.” He claimed through a puff. “Is there something you’d like to do, if not that?”

“You’ll poke fun at me if I tell you.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Yes you will, but fine – I guess I’ll tell you.” I sighed through the wave of smoke that surrounded us. “Ever since I was little I’ve always wanted to work for the radio – like, as a host. I don’t know why; I just… have some sort of fascination for it, I suppose.”

“No fucking way... Really?” Harry’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open in surprise. “Have you ever tried it? With proper radio equipment and all that…”

“Oh, I wish... but no, never.” I said wistfully.

Harry smiled, with one of those smiles where the eyes shine brighter than the teeth. “Would you like to? Right now?” My face scrunched, confused until he said, “There’s a setup upstairs…”

“Are you pulling my leg?” I asked above the grin splitting my face in two.

Judging by the smug smile staring back at me, it didn't look like he was... he looked plenty serious, even when my obvious excitement made him cough a laugh as he spat, “Swear on my life!”

“Your bar has a radio station?” I asked full steam ahead, still a little in disbelief but undeniably excited. “Is it open? Can we go see it?”

“Not the bar, it’s um- it’s in my house. I live upstairs. On the first floor.” Harry clarified, through sheepish pink cheeks. “I’ll still take you to go see it if you want to, I just thought I should let you know before… in case you didn’t feel comfortable going there just us.”

“Oh, um- I’m comfortable if you are. You don’t have to take me though, if you don’t want to...”

“Will it make you happy, Tracy Turner?” He asked. I nodded. Our eyes sparkled. “Then I want to.”

And so it was. Once we had finished our cigarettes, Harry led me upstairs. Up the stairs hidden behind the beaded curtain and through a hallway in his house that looked more like it belonged inside a 70’s office room, than as part of a home. “Are we alone or are your parents around?” I whisper asked as we walked. Harry shot me a funny look. “I’m just asking to know if we need to keep it quiet, that’s all…”

“They never lived here. My dad used to own the place though… but he gave it to me once they shut down the station a couple years ago.” He stared up at the cork covered ceiling as we walked. “This room I’m taking you to used to be one of the main radio rooms I think..? It's cluttered in old stuff I haven’t gotten rid of yet… that’s also why that bad boy over there is still around-” He flicked the light on.

“Woahh…” My gaze danced over the setup in front of me. The only things I knew what they were for were the reel to reel tape recorder, the mic and headphones and the soundboard mixer. That didn't make me any less excited, however. “Does it work?”

“Mhmm…” Harry hummed. “Bet you’re dying to play with it, aren’t you?”

“Is it that obvious?” I asked through a breathy laugh.

“Oh yeah… super-duper obvious.” He chuckled back. “Alright, you can take that chair near the microphone and put on the headphones. As for me… let’s see if I still remember how to crank this thing up and get it going.”

I did as Harry said, waiting patiently while he checked and adjusted a bunch of cables and wires around. I tried to pay attention to what he was doing, but his concentrated face was way more appealing. The creases showing between his arched brows, his lips slightly pursed…

“Okay so- the soundboard.” He started, plopping down on the other chair and rolling over its wheels until we were sat side by side. “As you can see it has loads of buttons and being honest, I don’t know what all of them do so for now let’s focus on this volume slider here and this yellow button, which is basically what you want to move whenever you want to speak. So if I do this,” He clicked the button and made the switch go up on the board. “We should be on-air.”

“Can people really hear us?” I whispered, pulling slightly away from the microphone.

“Well… I can't promise you that there’s someone tuned in on the other side but in case there is, then yeah… they can hear us.” Harry replied quietly, before he leaned closer to me. “So, if there’s any messages you’d like to share with the world, now would be the time to do it.”

“The whole world?” I gasped.

“Okay… that might have been a slight exaggeration. Not the whole world, maybe just one local or two. Which, speaking of,” He leaned over our shared microphone, clearing his throat comically. “Dear listeners if you’re there… don't give up on us yet. We promise we’ll get it together in a second.” I smothered my laughter with my hand, as I leaned back in the swivel chair. Harry pulled the vocal slider down to nil, then with a big smile on his face he turned to me and asked, “Should we hit them with commercial break tapes from 20 years ago?”

“Oh yeah, let's.” I agreed at first, but then my eyes fell on the record player. “No, wait- actually, can we play some music first?”

“What do you want to play?”

“What are my options?”

“Well... most like- tapes and shellac options are from the 60's and 70's but one of the tonearms is set up for vinyl, so we can play some recent stuff too.” I nodded and acted like I was on topic. I didn't own any vinyl’s… the way I got my music was by sitting next to the five-and-dime’s radio player waiting for my jams to play so I could hit the ‘record’ button quickly enough. It was free and easy… then all I had to do was pray the DJ didn’t ruin my recording with any mid-song nonsense. -- “We have… Tears for Fears… Beastie Boys… Foreigner! That would make for a great choice, in my opinion...” Harry tipped, trying to influence me. I scrunched my nose. “Let’s see what else… Pixies, MJ… Oh! And my personal favorite at the moment… Laura Branigan!”

“No way!” I yelped. She was one of my current favorites as well. “You don’t happen to have Self Control, do you?”

“I like to think I have some, yeah…” Harry bantered, as he moved through his queued up records.

“No… I meant the record… by Laura Branigan.”

“On it, Tracy Turner.” He winked, moving to get the disc out of its cover. He placed it on one of the turntables, then flicked some stuff onto the board, arranged the tonearm over it and lo and behold, we were playing music!

“You know… you say my name a lot.” I commented out of curiosity, or just to see what he’d say really.

He chuckled at the question, scratching at his stubble before answering. “I like your name. It’s a good name.”

“And what exactly defines a good name, hm?”

“It’s a name I like saying?” He left it at that, letting the music fill the silence for a few seconds before throwing me is own sudden question. “What’s your favorite song? In general, not just this record.”

I pursed my lips in thought for a moment. “Ummm… I really like that Billy Idol one they were playing earlier downstairs. Oh, and A Kind of Magic by Queen! I freakin’ love that song… Yours?”

“Oof… let me think…” He took a big breath as he did so. “I really like… Sledgehammer by Peter Gabriel. That’s a good song…”

I snorted, shaking my head. “That’s a dirty song, Harry.”

“Okay but… Rebel Yell is pretty dirty too and you just said that you liked it…” My head cocked to the side in consideration. “But I mean at this point it's a bit like, what gives, isn’t it? If you think about it, there are sex related bits and pieces in every song… and it makes sense… since sex is like, a universal language almost. Everyone loves it.”

“Ehh… you’re right about the songs. I don’t know if I agree with that last bit so much though.” I said honestly, what brought Harry’s eyes to narrow with heed. “It must be good for you guys I suppose… but us girls... most times than not, we’re left feeling achy and unsatisfied.” I clarified myself, knowing he’d ask me to.

“What?” He questioned instantly. “Is that how the people you've been with made you feel?”

“Hmmm... not always. There were times better than others, but I never got to, you know… finish.” I didn’t know how he managed to pull that away from me… I had never admitted that to anyone, but with Harry it was like by the time I realized, I had already told him. “But it's one of those things that makes me think that maybe the problem is mine. Like, maybe I can't because my body isn't made to do it.”

“Yeah no. That’s not true love, and you know it. All bodies are made to feel pleasure, so sorry to tell you but you’ve been having sex with sloppy blokes... or blokes who didn't really know what they were doing. Most times it's more like that.” Harry paused, looked down and then rose his eyes up to me again. “Can I ask you something really personal? You don’t have to answer it though, if you don’t want to.”

“Sure, go ahead.” I agreed with a small smile.

“Have you- erm, never touched yourself before- I mean… to the point of.. finishing?”

Shit. That one caught me off guard, and also made me stutter slightly, “I-uh… I have, yeah… I know what an orgasm is. I've had them before, just never with another person.” I chatted on, a little nervous about letting the conversation fall into silence. “...But to be fair I know it's harder for girls to get there… and for boys to figure out how we work-”

“It's not harder, it's just different…” Harry responded calmly. He sounded like he was sure of what he was saying too. Which addled me a bit at the time, but started to make perfect sense once he added, “Look, I'm not going to sit here pretending to be a saint to impress you... I've fooled around a bit when it comes to these things - girls, boys, in-betweeners... I mean, you name it… I probably did it. So believe me when I tell you, the fact that you're a girl has little to do with it. If a guy really wants to give you an orgasm, he won't give up until he gets you there. No matter how hard it is or how long it takes… and he’ll enjoy every second of it.”

Shit... Shit.

I couldn't tell if it stemmed from his words or the way he seemed so lost in my eyes when he said them, but something about that moment made my temperature soar to the point that my head felt tipsy.

“You’ve slept with men before?” I asked suddenly, trying to shift the topic to something that distracted me from those last words of his echoing inside my head.

Judging from the way his brows creased, I could tell his mood had shifted a little at my question. “Is that a problem to you?”

“No, no – God, not at all. It’s um... it's hot, actually.” I felt my cheeks burn at the admission, but when his beautiful smile followed it, it made the embarrassment worth it.

Harry’s arm, that was placed on the table, bent over his elbow. “Mm… is it?” He pried teasingly, resting his head on his hand just so he was staring right at me. “And why is that?”

“I don’t know, it just is.” I laughed, shyly covering my face with my hands. “Can we move on with the subject, please? This one is sort of making me want to jump out the window.”

“No, I quite like this subject.” Harry insisted jokingly, “You’re cute when you squirm, did you know that?” His question spawned a groan from me. He laughed at it, but when I dared to meet his gaze again, he looked solemn… contemplative, “It makes me wonder however…” He added calmly, looking down for a beat before his eyes darted up to mine. “If that’s how you get when you’re about to cum. And I think I would very much like to find out.”

My heart skipped a beat at his suggestion, but contrary to expected it didn't make me gasp or yelp. I wasn’t jolted like by it like I probably should have been… mostly because the same want had been hammering in my mind too. “I think I would like that a lot, but-” I sighed, before I carried reluctantly. “I don't think we should, at least not-”

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s all good. You don't owe me an explanation… if anything, I should be apologizing for my bluntness.” I felt his fingertips brush along a strand of my hair, so delicately that I could’ve dreamed it. “I just hope it didn't make you uncomfortable...” I shook my head in denial, not trusting my tongue to respond when my body was practically melting under his touch. “Would you like me to take you home now?”

“No”, my heart answered honestly, but realistically I knew I had no reason to stay longer now that sex was out of the equation. “Yeah, that- that would probably be good.” I answered, looking down to avoid his eyes – otherwise I didn’t know what I might do.

“Alright-” Harry stretched as he stood from his chair, allowing me to catch a glimpse of the skin of his belly as his t-shirt rose slightly. But my body heated up even more once I noticed the swelling happening at the front of his jeans, letting me in on the fact that our conversation had left him as hot and bothered as it had me. That wasn’t helping. The knowledge that I’d made him hard was only making me want to leave less. “Just give me a sec to go get my keys.” He petted my hair as he squeezed behind my chair to go fetch his car keys from another room of the house.

I groaned silently as I watched him go. He seemed so calm and collected despite the bulge in his pants. That was what was making my head reel the most… how okay he was with my rejection. It wasn't very usual for men to react so well to something like that… meanwhile, Harry hadn't even tried to steal a kiss! Something I was partly thankful for, but then at the same time I kind of wished he had – if only he knew I was a heartbeat away from having a change of heart, maybe he would 've…

After all, what was keeping me from going through with this? Andrew?

Granted, we hadn't formally broken up yet… but I was planning to do that in a few hours once he came over to get his stuff – knowing him, probably with flowers and chocolates and more empty promises to try to get me to change my mind, but I wasn't going to fall for that. Not after finding out there were interesting people like Harry out there…

Harry, well… he made me curious. He was sweet, straightforward, open-minded, and most importantly, he seemed like the kind who knew how to make it good for both parties the bedroom. I wanted that for myself. I had for a while, actually… but whenever I thought to broach the topic with someone, I always ended up feeling like I was being too picky or painting my sex life to be horrible when it wasn’t. I enjoyed sex… just never got to enjoy it thoroughly like other people did. Honestly, it felt like whenever things started to feel that good for me, it ended – and I was left pent-up.

It wasn't as if opportunities like these came every day, though. Not with men like Harry at least...

“Ready to go?” He asked as he peeked back inside the room, smiling warmly at me whilst fiddling the keys in his hand.

I got up from the chair, leaving behind the blanket Harry had lent me and the little willpower I had left before I walked to meet him at the door. And when his hand reached for the handle to open it, I surprised him and even myself by darting mine over to stop him. He looked at me in question. “I uh- I changed my mind.” I blurted.

Harry’s face relaxed, but the dark in his eyes gleamed brighter. “You sure?” He breathed into the short distance between us. I felt the question more than I heard it.

“Yeah.” I replied in a whisper. “I am.”

A lopsided smile warped his features, as his arm reached behind to place his car keys on the windowsill. He reached up to fondle my face, gently guiding my chin up just so I looked into his eyes. “I wish I could tell you how happy it made me to hear that, but I think perhaps I'd be better showing you in another way...”

He was still cradling my face as his head dipped down. My eyes shut expectantly, but I felt his lips touch my forehead first… and then my cheek… and my nose. Softly, unhurriedly… as if he was savoring the anticipation. A pant of desire formed in my throat, so visceral I couldn't keep it to myself—I let it out, and only then did his mouth move away from my skin, lowering to press against my lips.

A shaky breath left the both of us as our lips wringed together, blending as one. His scent enveloped me, penetrating deep into my senses. He smelled like warmth, mint and vanilla – intense and beyond compare… just like his kiss,

And I needed more of it.

It’s why I twisted my fingers through the loops of his jeans and pulled him closer. “Mm, fuck…” Harry groaned, blindly goading me backwards so he would pin me against the door. His hips rutted against mine instinctively, while mine rocked back persuasively. “Eager, aren't you? Am I making you feel good?”

“So good.” I whispered, low and lewd against his mouth. “You’re a great kisser.”

“It's your mouth bringing it out of me. So… fucking… sweet.” He drew his other hand up to my jaw as well, holding it whilst his lips carried on tasting mine in between each muttered word. “I want to give you that orgasm… It's driving me mad, it’s all I can think about…”

“Yeah..? You think you have what it takes?” I teased, causing his hands to drop from my face and grip at my hips instead. And the next time his rolled over mine, he did it to let me know he had that and more.

“I'll give you as many as you want, I can promise you that. A gorgeous, lovely girl like you won't be leaving my bed unsatisfied.”

“And where’s that bed at, exactly?”

Our lips remained glued together as he guided me out of the hall, until our bodies melted away into the darkness of the corridor. We bumped into a few things here and there, but honestly I didn't even feel the impacts - my body was too focused on the desire Harry was making me feel.

He walked me backwards into his bedroom, not bothering to turn on the lights. The curtains were open, and the streetlight illuminated the room enough - bathing it in stark shades of yellow and orange. I was too distracted to notice the decor details, but I noticed he had some interesting posters and art pop prints on the walls, a television on top of the wooden dresser that must have been inherited from his grandfather, tacky curtains like mine... frankly I noticed a lot, except that his bed was a mattress on the floor – Until I tripped and fell on top of it.

Harry came down with me, falling on his knees between my legs. “Pretty and clumsy… could you get any cuter, Tracy Turner?” He smiled, leaning over to bump his nose on mine. “Are you okay? Didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

“No.” I giggled, “Just my tush, but it’s gone now...”

“Oh,” He chuckled, whilst carefully urging me up in the mattress to lean back against his pillows. “‘S a shame it’s gone… I was starting to look forward to kissing it better…” He teased, leaning over further until his body encircled mine from above. My breath caught in my throat at the sudden proximity, and his proposition. No one had ever offered to kiss me there, but I would let Harry if he wanted to – Hell, I would probably let him do anything he wanted at this point. “Guess that means I’ll still get to kiss your perfect mouth some more, so I can’t say I mind.”

I could feel Harry’s hips recommencing their rubbing against mine – gradually increasing the friction as our breaths became more labored with desire. He was taking his time though… we were both still fully clothed, and his hands and mouth hadn't gone any lower than my neck yet,

It surprised me.

Any other guy would have tried to strip my clothes off the moment I got into their bed, but Harry hadn’t – He was simply enjoying the moment for what it was and making the most of it… and frankly, that was turning me on immensely.

I'd never been the kind of girl to make the first move, but I felt like I was on the edge of exploding from want if I didn’t. I wanted more. I needed more, so I started to strip him off his jacket… and failed to stifle a laugh once he looked at me and smirked knowingly. “What?” I asked, feigning innocence.

“No, it’s nothing.” He chuckled against my mouth, pulling the jacket the rest of the way off his body. My hands roamed around his chest as our lips touched. I could feel warmth under his heartbeats. Reactive flesh too - what had me eager to remove the remainder of his clothes. My hands rose beneath the hem of his shirt… dragging it up and shedding it off. Longing to get closer. To see more. To feel more.

His body shape was different than I’d imagined – unmistakably beautiful, but different. Most of his strength seemed to be stored around his chest and abdomen. He looked fit, but still felt soft around the edges. The lax in his posture made him curve forward, as if he was made to hug, to nest.

His hands reached for the waistband of my skirt, untucking my turtleneck blouse from under it. I giggled once the neckband got stuck over my nose momentarily as he peeled it off. I shook the unruly hairs away from my eyes, and once I could see again, I found Harry looking at me. Not just at my bare chest - at me. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, tracing my jaw with his fingertips. I took a heavy inbreath as I felt his touch outline the round contours of my neck and breasts.

“So are you.” I breathed feebly, using the tips of my fingers to limn over his torso the same way his did over mine. “Harry… I need you-”

“I know, sweet girl. I know.” He said, slanting us back down over the mattress. His hands loosened up the rest of the buttons down the front of my skirt, until it snapped open at the middle. Leaving my pastel pink underwear exposed through my thin nylon pantyhose.

Desperate, I lifted my bum up for Harry to strip me off them, but he had other plans. He bent down to taste my mouth again, and from my lips, his trailed an invisible path down my ribs, suckling on my breasts… circling my belly button… leaving me breathless and leaky until he reached my knees, where he began to unzip my boots.

Once those were off, he flipped me to lay on my belly, and my ass immediately rose in the air. I wanted him to rip my stockings apart and penetrate me right there without further delay.

I wasn’t normally like this, but Harry was leaving me beside myself. The ringing inside my skull was a mantra for more. More, more, more. I wanted more of him. I wanted him inside. I needed him to fill me.

The sound of his belt unbuckling was enough to make me moan softly, “Harry, please… I’m all sticky…”

“Fuck baby… That- that’s good. That’s how I want you…” My back arched up higher in response, and I nodded in agreement from where my head laid against the mattress.

Only then did he move to peel my stockings down… and still, he halted. Once he had them rucked halfway down my thighs. “You're spotting…” He muttered in amusement. I couldn't see it, but I could definitely sense it. The center of my panties felt icy in contrast to the heat throbbing beneath them. I whimpered when his thumb came to caress me there, pressing the wet fabric into my opening. “I’ll give you what you want, pretty girl… but I want my mouth between your legs first. I want that stickiness coating my tongue.”

“Are you- Are you sure?” I asked hesitantly.

It wasn’t the first time I would be trying that… but usually guys only did it if they couldn’t get me wet enough otherwise, never just because they wanted to, or because it felt good for me. Harry wanted to though, I could tell from the way his blown pupils were eclipsing through the green in his eyes. And from the edge in his voice when he spoke next, “Sure of what? That I want to taste your pussy? Babe, my mouth was watering thinking about it before I even got to kiss you...”

He prod my legs together, reaching to slide my bottom clothes the rest of the way down. I felt him lie on his stomach between my legs, so I spread them further apart. “…You’re this gorgeous down here too? How’s that fair, hm? Trying to make me burst in my pants?”

“Noo… don’t stare!” I stressed, feeling my cheeks warm. “I haven’t- trimmed in a while…”

“Hush, love. Just... relax, okay? Let me make you feel good.”

“Yeah okay. I’ll try to…I’ll try to- Ohh! Harry-” I groaned once his mouth hedged my pussy. The feeling I got from getting licked in this position was… unlike any other I’d felt lying on my back. My lips were spread-open, leaving my bud unsheltered and more susceptible to the advances of his tongue.

And gosh, it was advancing without any apprehension. Harry’s face was practically buried in my pussy. Kissing it… licking it… making me moan out his name, just for him to grunt out my own in return.

“God, you taste so good…” He muttered as he pulled away, breathing shallowy. “Do you want me to go inside you? Would that feel good?”

“Yes!” I gasped, not bothering to try and disguise my enthusiasm. “Yes. Yes, Harry. Inside would feel so good.”

“Okay but- Let’s just turn around first, yeah? I wanna see your pretty face while it goes in.” I flipped onto my back, just in time to catch the moment Harry zipped down his jeans. He was so hard that his tip was peeking through the waistband of his jockey briefs. I swallowed thickly. I had always turned up my nose at colorful men's underwear... but heck, if my opinion wasn’t changing drastically before my eyes...

His cock bobbed freely once he stripped himself out of the orange, stripy fabric. His head was ruddy and glossy with precum, the base thick, with a slightly aslant curve to the right that stood out in the midst of his bush. “He’s all-right, isn’t he?” Harry joked when he noticed my fazed looking.

“He- well, he is…” I laughed, then extended my arm. “Come here…” He crawled back over the mat, to hover on top of me. “It's perfect. And looks like it'll feel really good...”

“It will. It will feel so good...” He kissed me again, transferring my own scent from his lips to mine. “I’ll make it feel so good...” I licked myself off his tongue without shame, soaking up my juices like I did to his spit. I felt his arm raise over my head, but it was the noise of a vase being stirred that ultimately made me pull away to see what he was up to.

“Really? A vase? That’s where you keep your condoms?”

“Well… it keeps them at hand, doesn’t it”

I bit my lip once I saw him kneel and rip the package open. “Yeah, I suppose it does…” I answered at last, watching with curious eyes as he tugged his foreskin back and unrolled the rubber over himself, giving a few testy pumps to make sure we were safe before drawing nearer and nudging his plump tip at my entrance.

His gaze sought mine, waiting for my consent. “You can.” I gasped needily at the feeling of my wetness getting smeared around by him before his hips edged forward, slowly pushing inside me. I moaned at the wholeness. It was a wholeness that didn't hurt like it usually always did at first. No. It was all pleasure this time. Pure bodily pleasure, and it felt so, so good.

“Fuck… it fit so right.” Harry groaned softly, voicing my exact thought as well. “Tell me how to make love to you, baby… I’ll fuck you just the way you like.”

“Harry… please can you- can you move?” I asked, or practically pleaded. “You feel so good and I feel- I feel like I’m already close…”

“Christ… Yes. Yes, I’ll move. I’ll do anything… just- keep holding me like you are, okay? I’ll take care of you.” My nails grazed his back as his hips began to sway, keeping him close. His thrusts felt trained – they made me feel full, but not overly so. He was moving just so his tip brushed upwards inside me, reaching a spot that was making my toes curl with each pump. “Feels good like this?” Harry made a point of asking, wanting to be sure.

“Yes! God, yes. Keep- Keep going like that.”

“Yeah? You like it like that?” He rutted his hips just so his cock pressed deeper into my wetness, although his pace remained the same – unhurried, ponderous, and intense. “Are you going to cum if I keep going like that?”

“Yeah. I- I think so…” I said honestly because I felt like I was. Each gentle squeeze in of Harry within my insides pumped up my internal crescendo, that tingled with growing need. My face clung to the base of his neck. I mewled.

“That's it baby... just feel it. Feel me. Focus on how good it feels… You’re so good for me too... so soft… so warm.”

With my face still tucked into his neck, I wrapped my arms around him too. “H-Harry…” I called his name, as my fingers painted pink rivers across his shoulder blades.

“I know, …Fuck. I know.” He comforted me through my moans, kissing my hair and increasing his pace. I could feel my hips punctually jolting up into his, ruled by all the sensations arcing from the places where our skins thoroughly connected… and then it happened.

My orgasm. It happened.

And it was… mind-blowing. My head felt void as it tilted back against the mattress. My jaw went ajar, and a hoarse whine came through. Harry’s hips stuttered at the sudden grasp of my pussy massaging his cock all over, but he didn't budge until he was sure I had borne every stroke of pleasure he’d bestowed on me.

I whimpered when Harry’s movements came to a sudden halt as he detached himself from me, leaving me tortuously empty. He let out a breathy laugh before leaning to kiss me tenderly. “I'm giving it to you again. Just give me a second…” He laughed, then let out a long breath. “Alright… I think we're good to go again.” He told me, and then asked, “Do you wanna get on your belly like before? With your bum a little raised?”

I smiled eagerly at the suggestion, rolling into a facedown position and raising my hips slightly for him. “Christ…” He murmured at the sight, before settling on top of me. “This one’s a killer for me, so I won't promise I can give it to you like this for long… but I could tell from earlier that you like it too and I want to provide that for you...”

“I don’t mind if you don’t last… it's your turn to cum now. I want to do it in the way that feels best for you.”

Harry grunted against the back of my neck before kissing. “If there's one thing I want you focusing on right now, it's in not saying those filthy little things when I'm about to enter you. Understand?”

“Mhm... Sorry daddy. I won’t do it again.” I said teasingly, guessing it would get him going just like it did to most guys.

“Fuck…” Harry groaned lowly, proving my point as he guided the cock in his stroking hand against my entrance again. “Scoot that bum up, sweet thing. Let me mount you.”

I moaned once his cock set back in its place inside me. It fit snugger and deeper in this position, but the fullness was, once again, nothing but pleasant. One of his arms wrapped itself around my chest to hold me, while the other went down between my legs, so his hand could reach my hardened up clit. His fingers swirled over it. “One more…” Harry’s deep voice breathed against my ear. “Can you?”

“I-Yeah…yeah, I can.” My voice sounded breathy, shaken by his snappy thrusts. “Mm… harder. Hold me harder.” I pleaded, clutching onto his forearm that swaddled my chest. Keeping me close while his pelvis rammed into me from behind. I was stuck to him. Feeling sheltered and safe, but also… small… and bound. That was what was getting me there: the animalistic notion that I wasn’t going anywhere. I was under him. Being made to take whatever he chose to give me.

I shut my eyes and focused on where Harry was hitting that spot, just like he had told me to do before. My walls fluttered around his length moving inside me, making him moan above me. “Come for me again, Tracy.” He urged, panting against the back of my ear. I could feel a pulse roaring from my belly up to my eardrums. “My sweet, pretty girl… Come for me.”

My body tuned in to his request.

My sex spasmed as I climaxed once more, engulfing Harry’s in a beating pad of heat and softness. The raw cry of pleasure that escaped my chest, got quieted by his lips, that dipped down to kiss me as my head tilted back against his chest. “So good… So. Fucking. Good!” He drawled amidst his kisses, forcing his hips to slow whilst we both relished on the waves of my pleasure. “Can I make myself finish too?” Harry questioned against the sticky skin of my forehead. His despair as palpable on the weakened voice in which he spoke, as it was in the pulsing shaft inside me.

“Yeah.” I replied, slightly appalled that he’d even think to ask. “Yeah, please do.”

My body felt soft and pliant once his arms held me close. The creaminess between my thighs bolstering the heaviness of his thrusts as he proceeded to drive into me again. “Aah... you’re making me – ngh. I’m gonna–” His flow began to lose precision. Hips skipping a few whacks in between moans and groans until he met his release at last. His cock slammed fully into me, and he groaned - satisfied once it began to throb, pumping white ooze inside the rubber.

He clung to me in his high, allowing his chest to press fully onto my back for a moment. I welcomed the added weight pining me to the mattress. It felt good… like a warm, heavy blanket to fall asleep under. And I think I would have, had Harry not turned us over so we were facing each other.

“That was…” He puffed his cheeks, through a weary smile. “Shit. Hold on… Let me just-” He got up to discard the condom, and I rubbed the sleepiness out of my eyes.

I knew I should probably start getting dressed, but there wasn’t a single part of my body that wanted out of the bubble I was living in lying in Harry’s bed on the floor. A bubble that grew thicker and twice its size once he came to lay back down beside me and pulled me in for a cuddle. “It was really good.” I replied to what he started earlier, smiling sheepishly against his shoulder.

“Yeah?” He ran his fingers over my arm, smiling back. “Good enough to make you want to stay over?”

“Do you want me to?” I asked, biting back a smile.

“Yeah, of course.” He openly admitted, breathing in the moment before speaking again. “I really like you, Tracy Turner… and I wouldn't be saying this if it wasn't true.” His fingers combed through my hair. “I'd like to see you again… regardless of whether we have sex again or not.”

I reached up to fondle his tousled brown curls as well. They were soft and inviting to the touch. “When?”

“You mean when after tomorrow morning?” He joked, like he was already assuming I was staying the night. I never corrected him. “Whenever you want or can. I don’t want to pressure you, I’m just… trying to let you know where I’m at.”

“Okay.” I moved closer, snuggling into his chest. “I’ll see you again...”

“After tomorrow morning?”

“Mhm,” I grinned. “After tomorrow morning.”

326 notes · View notes

fireflyinsummer · 3 years

Text

An Amalgamation Waltz 1839. |01|

> pairing: min yoongi x reader

> genre: FallenAngel!AU

> words: 23k

> warnings: hints of smut (heavy make out), a scene of harassment (nothing explicit), violence. possible heresy. forgive me. a third party’s unrequited feelings for OC. don’t know if i did this right, it’s 3 am right now.

> summary: When it comes to the both of you, a lifetime is not enough. And when it comes to you, there’s really no lines he wouldn’t be willing to cross. Even on the brink of a war that could destroy the world as we know it, you’re everything.

“ (...) ‘Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?’ he asked wistfully.

You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.

‘I’ve never had to,’ you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you.”

a/n: my love for Paradise Lost gave birth to this. i really like this one :) gonna be posting the second (and last) part soon! no need to say that PL was just an inspiration, this isn’t exactly based on the poem.

“(…) Here at least

We shall be free, the almighty hath not built

Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:

Here we may reign secure, and in my choice

To reign is worth ambition though in hell:

Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven.”

The sudden thud on the wooden surface of the table made you jolt and close the book, heart rate increasing considerably.

“Y/N.” His voice was deep, dragging your name through his teeth to evince his annoyance. The bustling café was already at its peak hours and you didn’t even notice the time as it passed you by.

“Yes, Taehyung?” You ogled your grumpy friend, his noisy arrival being due to the study material he tossed in front of you.

“You said you’d help me with English lit. I was waiting for you at the library for about an hour and your phone is off.” As you remembered why you were even in the café in the first place, you threw him a guilty look. He pouted. “Hey, what does that Milton guy have that I don’t? And the fancy words don’t count.” You giggled.

“John Milton has nothing on you, Tae. He’d probably need my help to get through this semester as well.” The joke seemed to almost let you in his good graces again, but you knew he still needed the bribery. “I’ll buy you your favorite if you forgive me.” You could tell he was fighting back a smile upon hearing your offer, his mood suddenly uplifted.

“Okay. But don’t think I’ll let you off the hook that easily.”

“I wouldn’t dare. Wait here.” You went to the balcony to pay the check and get his frappuccino to go. Taehyung was a sweet guy who liked sweet things, and that also applied to his coffee. His sweet tooth earned him a nickname from you – Marzipan. Waiting for the bartender to finish your order, you looked over where your best friend was digging through your copy of Paradise Lost without much enthusiasm.

You had moved in next door to his house about fifteen years ago, and you two instantly initiated a solid friendship. As much as you could say about three-year-olds. Despite him being one of your favorite people in the whole world, the both of you were into totally different things. He went to parties, you enjoyed some lone quality time. He played all sorts of sports, you preferred to stick to your writing and, sometimes, the piano. You were still working on the latter. But even though you seemed to be totally opposites, he still got you like no one else could. He was the person you told all your secrets to, not that you had that many anyway, and you liked to think – no, you were sure of it – he felt the same way about you.

“Here’s your overly-sweet drink, Marzipan. I don’t even know if you can still call it coffee,” you scowled.

“Don’t diss my frappuccino, it’s the sole reason of my forgiveness.”

“Yeah, right. So, you wanna get going? I’m sure you have a lot of thoughts on that book already.”

“It was very average so far, if I do say so myself. I don’t know why you like it so much,” he teased you.

“Well, that’s what the private lessons are for. So I can teach you good taste.” You pushed the door open and immediately shivered as you felt a cold gush of air. It was snowing.

“Here, take my coat. Why don’t you ever wear decent clothes in the winter? I swear to God, I don’t know how you never caught something serious, like pneumonia or whatever,” he scolded.

“You don’t have to. We’re near home anyway,” you tried to reassure him, but he was, as usual, outwardly ignoring it. “Really, Tae, it’s no big deal. Let’s go.” He was ready to fight you on this one, but you were already walking away. He took a few hurried steps to catch up.

After a ten-minute walk, daylight was almost completely gone, lit lampposts following its wake. You both hit the front door rug with your feet several times before getting inside, your mom was a bit freaky when it came to cleaning.

“Mom, Tae’s here!” You shouted from the living room, guessing she was in the kitchen. “We’re going upstairs for a bit! School work!”

“Okay, honey! Tell him that dinner will be ready soon!” She responded.

“I love you, Ms. D’Angelis!” He shot back. Yes, you had an italian background. When she heard his voice, she made sure to come out and greet him.

“Love you, too, honey”, she pecked his forehead and he beamed. They liked each other way too much for their own good. “And you,” she pointed in your direction, “give mamma a kiss.”

You sighed before attending to her request. It was in your best interest not to fight it. “Okay, enough of this. We’ll be upstairs if you need us.”

“Have fun, kids.” You sure would. Taehyung might beg to differ.

The rest of the night was somewhat peaceful. You had helped Taehyung as much as you could before your mother called you out to eat, claiming that you shouldn’t starve the boy and then make him eat a cold meal. He couldn’t agree fast enough. For the most part, that was your life. Uncomplicated and comfortable, which was plenty for an eighteen year old. When you went to bed after practicing the piano for a little while, you were completely unaware of the pair of pitch black eyes that observed you through the window. But he was fully aware of you.

||\\

[Fear of the Water, by SYML]

You knew it was a dream. From the moment your brain processed the heavenly sight that unrevealed before your eyes, you knew. It was breaking dawn, the soft orange light kissing the ocean like a long lost lover. You were at the end of a cliff, but couldn’t find it in yourself to be afraid. You looked down at the waves that broke into the rocks almost violently, the salty breeze somewhat comforting. You loved the sea.

Taking a few deep breaths, you barely noticed the crack. The sound came from somewhere behind you, but you didn’t want to look away from the view, neither did you want to wake up. When you heard it again, you recognized footsteps. You turned around lazily, curious as to whom it would be the visitor of your reverie. When you fixed your eyes on him, though, you stopped breathing for a moment and your heart surely skipped a beat. He was a stranger in a number of ways, for he was seemed truly unworldly. Maybe ethereal was the word you were looking for. His violet eyes were scrutinizing you from head to toe. Beautiful. His hair was dark as it fell like a silky curtain on his forehead. Not a single flaw on his skin or his body, but none of that was as breathtaking as what lied on his back. Great, large white wings, so beautifully outstretched that you felt unworthy of looking at them.

You opened your mouth a few times, but nothing would come out. Probably for the best, you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of what was probably your mind’s greatest creation. How you could come up with him was beyond you. You wanted to ask his name before it all ended and you had to go back to real life, back to average. You wanted to touch his face, his wings, see for yourself if they felt as they looked. You wished you never woke up. As he took a step closer, you took your own back, startled at the sudden movement. Before you realized your mistake, it was too late. You had lost your balance. You knew it would be over soon. Taking one last look at the stranger, you saw as he stretched one arm to reach you, but to no avail. Too soon, the wind was ricocheting your skin and you were falling.

You woke up with a loud gasp as you searched for air, finding it oddly rarefied. When you registered the annoyingly high pitch of your alarm, you whined. Real life was the last thing you wanted to face right now, but if you told your mother that you’d stay in bed daydreaming about a figment of your imagination, she would personally retrieve you from the bed and toss you into the shower. Made sense.

Getting ready as quickly as you could manage, you felt excited for no obvious reason. Maybe it was the afterglow of the dream, but now you were eager to get out of the house, as if you wanted to find him. Which was insane, because you knew he did not exist. Come to think about him now, it was getting harder by the minute to remember his face. You panicked.

Running towards your desk and grabbing a pencil and your notebook, you tried to recreate him on paper, which was a lost battle from the start. Even if you were some doodling genius – you were definitely not – you would never be able to do him justice. You doubted anyone who had ever stepped on this planet, past or present, ever would. It was not the kind of beauty that could be explained or demonstrated, but rather felt. He wasn’t just inhumanely pretty, wings and all. There was something about him that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It may sound cheesy and totally deranged, but you felt whole in those few shared moments, like you knew him your entire life. Your mind didn’t recognize him, but your body did.

Groaning at the piece of paper and throwing the pencil at your baby-blue wall in annoyance, you gave up. It was pointless, his features were already escaping your mind. You didn’t know why you were so hung up on a dream, honestly. Seeing that you were a little riled up, you decided to let it go and just finish getting ready for class. You could see through the window that Taehyung was already waiting for you.

||\\

“So, how did it go?”

He pouted before answering. “It went alright.” Lies, he was a big fat liar.

“C’mon, Marzipan, be honest with me for a second.”

The nickname finally broke him down. “Fine, I hated it. I remember you telling me about every important detail of the subject yesterday, but I couldn’t put it on paper. Plus, why the fuck does he have to elaborate the questions so much? Most of the time I didn’t even understand what was being asked. Literature sucks,” he whined indignantly. You could tell it was taking a toll on him.

“Don’t worry too much about it, okay? I will help you. We’ll both graduate this year, yeah?” you reached his hand on a reassuring squeeze.

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

“Then sure. But you have to take me seriously, Y/N,” he warned you. “No more losing track of time in coffee shops.”

“Hey, I bought you a frappuccino, that incident should be six feet under by now,” you accused and he mumbled a grumpy response.

The both of you spent half of the morning taking the lit test. You thought you did fine, though the questions really were a little bit tricky. Walking side by side with Taehyung, you didn’t notice him at first. But once you realized there were no seats available right next to each other, your eyes eventually landed on his.

“We can’t sit together through this class, we’re too late,” Tae grumbled, trying to get your attention back to himself, but to no avail. “Y/N? Hey!” He flicked your forehead and you yelped.

“Did you just… flick me?” you seethed.

“I wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t lusting over the new guy. Who is he, by the way?” If you acknowledged the hint of jealously in his tone, you didn’t show it.

“I was not lusting over anybody,” you huffed.

“If you say so.”

“Stop saying that.”

“Grumpy. Is it because I caught you?” You just snarled and took a seat at the front row, while he chuckled and chose the one in the back.

To be honest, you were lusting a little. Those eyes seemed oddly familiar, though you couldn’t quite put a finger on why. The rest of the day passed by smoothly; you were able to sit with Taehyung for the remaining classes you had together and even helped him a bit with some homework. After a while, your new classmate was nowhere near your mind, despite that funny feeling you got every time you looked at him. Maybe it was because he was stunningly handsome. Who knows? You never cared much about those things, but you were only human.

On your way home with Taehyung, you felt eyes burning on your back. You turned around and found him staring, expression unfathomable. He wore a black lather jacket, jeans and a black shirt, his dark hair beautifully disheveled. He gave you a wanton grin and you scoffed. Well, you knew his type, and it unnerved you to death.

Preppy playboy. Nothing more, nothing less.

He cut off the eye contact abruptly, heading towards a grey motorcycle. No shit, huh? You almost laughed at the predictability. You weren’t exactly into bikes, but that looked expensive. And it suited him perfectly.

“Holy-… do you see that? That’s a Triumph fucking Rocket,” Taehyung gasped, shaking your elbow lightly. “A 2500cc engine capacity Triumph Rocket. Man, his parents must be loaded. That’s not a high schooler’s bike,” he said, almost dreamy. Yeah, you saw that coming from a mile away.

“You talking about the new guy?” You asked nonchalantly, turning your head as you resumed walking.

“Don’t even try to pretend you weren’t ogling just now,” he accused.

“You’re obsessed with our new-found bad boy. Maybe you should date him, Tae,” a snicker left your lips at his appalled expression.

“Shut up,” he pushed your shoulder. “I’m just curious.”

“As in bi-curious?”

“Okay, that’s it, I’m leaving you behind,” he grumbled as he fastened his pace. You chuckled, trying to catch up with his long legs.

When you arrived home, you noticed an attempt of a drawing on top of your bed. It looked like a poorly doodled angel. First things first: though it definitely looked like something made by your hands, you didn’t have any recollection of it, let alone of leaving it on display like that. You looked around, searching for something, but nothing else seemed out of place. Trying to shrug the uneasiness off, you picked some clothes off the wardrobe and went for a warm bath.

||\\

It was a Saturday afternoon, so you planned to do the usual: hit the library and grab some coffee on your way home. Taehyung had promised to watch a movie with you this weekend, but a surprise party to one of his friends came up. He’d invited you to tag along, more out of habit than anything else. Your answer was always the same when he asked you to spend time with his peers; you weren’t even remotely fond of them. They had maybe one functioning braincell and a whole lot of conceit. Not your crowd at all.

“Mom, I’m leaving. Do you need me to get you anything?” You said, already on your way to the front door.

She was sprawled on the couch, gazing attentively at the TV. “No, honey, thank you. Are you going out with Tae?”

“Nope, something came up, we rescheduled. I won’t be long.”

“Okay, then. Be careful!”

“Will do!”, you shouted from the outside.

It was closing time when the sweet old lady had to gently kick you out. You weren’t surprised when you found out your phone was dead; you probably had a billion calls from your mother and, if she was desperate enough, maybe even Taehyung. Letting out a sigh, you grabbed your stuff quickly and waved goodbye to the librarian as you made your way out the door, grumbling to yourself about not being able to pick up some coffee now.

The air was hazy and cold, you couldn’t see more than ten feet ahead, and the streets were oddly empty. You tightened your coat around your body and quickened your pace, not willing to spend more time outside than you needed to. Seeing that all the stores were closed, you realized that Martha (the librarian) probably let you outstay your welcome a little bit. You cursed at the freezing night and your cheap coat. Taehyung was right, you should buy warmer clothes.

Lost in thoughts, you were stupid enough to miss the drunken noises coming from the end of the street. There was a group of three men coming your way and they all seemed to have ingested an unhealthy amount of booze, laughing loudly and pushing each other playfully. You felt cold sweat fall down your spine but just tried to ignore it, hoping that you’d be able to pass them by without being noticed.

“Y/N?” His voice was dragged, and he was tumbling around the words. It was only then you realized they were from your school, the boy in the middle being Jimmy, Taehyung’s drink buddy.

“Hi”, you tried to stay as far away as possible, but the one with the fashionably boring rectangular glasses didn’t let you, hooking his arm around your neck. He reeked of cigarettes and whiskey.

“C’monnn-“ he hiccupped, “don’t you wanna par-tay with-“ another one, “-us?”

You repressed the urge to gag as your pulse quickened.

“Not really. I have to go,” you almost managed to untangle his disgusting arm from you, but he kept it in place, holding you tighter. “Let go of me.”

You were annoyed. And scared to death, to be honest. These boys didn’t exactly live by a moral code, and the four of you were alone in the middle of nowhere. You didn’t trust them.

“Aww, don’t be shy, princess. You’re always so… boring. Makes me curious about what you’ve got going on under all… that.” The last one, Ian, made his way towards you, snickering menacingly. He wasn’t as drunk as the other two, and if you could give a hunch, you’d say he knew exactly was he was doing. That scared you even more. Feeling the brick-wall hit your back, you realized you were cornered, a curse escaping your dry lips.

“Look, I really have to g-“ he cut you off by pressing his body into yours, making you lose your breath for all the wrong reasons. “What the fuck, man?! Let go of me!” You were visibly growing desperate as you tried to punch his face and his chest, but that only earned you a chuckle from him as he held both your wrists with one hand.

“Feisty. I like it.” You almost puked right then and there, the bile stuck in your throat making you scowl. He let his filthy fingers slide down your sides, until he could grope your ass.

Your stomach sank, heart drumming against your ribcage as you held back a whimper.

Okay, think.

Taehyung had taught you the basics about self defense a thousand moons ago. And yet, you realize that it was nothing like the real thing. You balled your clammy fingers tightly, knuckles white as you scanned every corner of your brain to try and find a way out.

“Tae will kill you if you touch me,” your voice trembled. You couldn’t help it.

He laughed whole-heartedly. As if the mere thought was actually funny to him.

“He wouldn’t dare, sweetheart. Besides, I think he actually wouldn’t mind sharing his bitch with us for the night,” he stated. “He’s not using it anyways,” he punctuated with a roll of his hips and, this time, as you felt the pathetic bulge inside his pants, you couldn’t hold back a tiny sob. Because fuck, this was it. There was no way you could take down three grown men on your own.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The voice was low and steady. It made your skin crawl. You snapped your head and looked at the dark haired man standing behind the boys. Ian lazily turned around, still keeping your wrists wrapped tight in his hand.

“None of your business, newbie. Now get out of my sight before I lose my patience.”

When he chuckled, it was different from Ian’s. It was darker, rougher, and concealed a vicious ferocity that you knew was there. You knew because, as he disregarded your aggressor and looked you in the eyes, you almost feared for them.

“Ian, dude, let it go.” Jimmy instantly sobered up and tried to avoid any confrontation. To think he spent time with your best friend but would let Ian harass you without saying a word was disgusting. “Come on, your old man will kill you if you get in trouble again.” So that was his main concern. Still looking out for his shitty, abusive friend. Men’s sorority really is misogyny.

“You should listen to your friend. Believe me, you won’t survive me when I get my hands on you,” he stated matter-of-factly. You felt the sincerity in your bones. And so did Ian and his stupid cavalry. “Leave.”

Ian sighed, but relented. You felt a hot wave of relief as he disconnected his body from yours, leaning on the wall for balance as your legs wabbled.

“You better watch out,” he spits.

“Y/N, I... I’m really sorry,” Jimmy said as he scooped his friends and dragged them away from you. “You too, Min. He’s just drunk. We would’ve stopped him if it got too far.”

He’s lying. You can tell.

“Get the fuck out of my sight,” he growls, his composure faltering for a minute. As they stray out of view, he turns his gaze to you.

“Care to tell me what the hell are you doing walking alone in the middle of the night?”

He’s angry.

You scoffed, adjusting your coat around your shoulders and straightening your back.

“Thank you for the help, but I’m too old for a babysitter,” you say. “Besides, I don’t even know you.”

He looks at you and, as if trying to regain some sense and control a fit of rage, he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose before exhaling a long puff of air.

“Alright. My name is Yoongi,” he takes you by surprise as he snatches your wrist in an iron grip, “And I'm fucking walking you home.”

As he drags you across the street, you want to yell at him. You want to tell him to fuck off, you preppy bastard. But you don’t.

Because the truth is, you’re so fucking grateful. God knows what would’ve happened if it wasn’t for him. As he calms down, he drops your hand and slows his pace, allowing you to catch up without having to make an effort. You want to talk, but you choose to stay quiet.

Now that you weren’t so skittish anymore, it finally dawned you how the snow was beautifully spread throughout the streets, the trees, the buildings. Everything that was cool, cold, blue, held some fascination to you. Summer was never really your season – it had always been winter. To be able to curl up on your couch with a warm blanket and a hot cup of coffee, it was heavenly. You always thought that, if you could see the world through a color palette, it would be in different shades of blue.

The snow was not the only thing that you were entranced by, though. Yoongi was, from what you saw so far, much like winter to you. Harsh when needed, cool, but also peaceful and comforting. He didn’t urge you to talk about the incident; he didn’t urge you to talk at all. His mannerisms caught your attention from time to time – how he constantly ran his long fingers through his hair, how his eyes seemed to flutter shut lazily a few times in a row, or how he carried himself so elegantly that it almost made you jealous. He looked terribly familiar, too.

“Why are you staring?” His bluntness caught you off guard, but still couldn’t disturb the peacefulness of the moment.

“Just curious.” It was true. “Apart from the motorcycle and the superhero complex, I don’t know much about you.”

“Well, there’s not much to know.”

You hummed in response. “What are you doing here, then?” You ask, and his feet come to a halt.

“What is this, an interrogation?”

You scoff, and you both start walking again. “Just trying to make conversation. Besides, I’m actually curious,” you ponder. “People don’t move into this town very often,” you kick the snow under your feet. He sighs.

“I’m here with my… brother,” he hesitated before continuing, “he’s my guardian, sort of. We used to move a lot. Work thing.” He couldn’t hold back a grimace, but it disappeared in a second. You wanted to ask about his parents, but felt like you’d be crossing a line, so you kept your curiosity to yourself. “Now you tell me,” he said.

“Tell you what?”

“About yourself. Your family. Whatever you want to.”

“Um, let me see. I live with my mom. We moved from Italy when I was about three years old. My dad… my dad stayed.” You didn’t want to get into it, and he immediately noticed, just nodding for you to continue. “She’s been taking care of me by herself since then.”

He hummed in understanding, sparing you a few glances that you couldn’t quite decipher.

Before you knew, your house was already in sight. You wished you lived farther, just so you could keep that strange interaction on for a little longer.

“Well, this is me,” you announced. Lying about your address had crossed your mind somewhere along the way.

“Sorry if I was a jerk,” he surprised you by saying. You mouth opens and closes a few times before you say anything.

“It’s okay, I guess. I was pretty riled up, too.”

He nodded. “See you Monday, then?” His voice was deep and silky.

“Yeah. Hey, I… I’m glad you showed up when you did.”

“I am, too,” there was a dark undertone in his voice. “Good night, Y/N,” he surprised you by leading his right hand to the top of your head and lightly messing your hair before walking away. You stood still for a minute, until your mother opened the door.

“Y/N?! Darling, why did you take so long? I was so worried!”

“Um… Sorry, mom. I ran into a friend and my phone was off.”

“Well, you should’ve at least borrowed your friend’s phone to let me know, things aren’t like they used to be around these parts anymore, it’s getting pretty danger-“

She kept talking as she let you in, but you couldn’t concentrate. That night, you dreamt of him.

||\\

“(…) Farewell happy fields

Where joy for ever dwells: hail horrors, hail

Infernal world, and thou profoundest hell

Receive thy new possessor: one who brings

A mind not to be changed by place or time.

The mind is its own place, and in itself

Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.”

You didn’t think of yourself as an early riser, but when Monday morning came, you woke up before the alarm – and seemed almost delighted to do so. To be honest, you really tried to ignore the eagerness to see him again, but to no avail. The day before was thoroughly torturous, flashes of the short period of time you spent together coming back to haunt you now and then. At some point, you were so annoyed that you just lied on the bed and attempted to blast your eardrums off by listening to some crappy rock band at full volume. It didn’t work, obviously, and now you probably had hearing damage. The cons and cons of obsession.

At this exact moment, for the first time in your entire friendship, you were banging on Taehyung’s door first. Because you just couldn’t wait a minute longer.

“Damn it, woman, was is it with you today?” The sound of his voice was muffled. That, or you were going deaf, there was no way to tell for sure.

“You’re going to make us late, Marzipan!” At that, he opened his bedroom door slightly, just enough so you could peek at his disheveled hair and sleepy face.

“It’s dick o’clock in the morning, we have at least forty minutes until we leave,” his voice was rugged and he had an aggrieved look plastered on his pouty face.

“I brought you coffee,” you smiled at him while raising the thermal cup.

“Stop the madness and go wait for me downstairs, Gilmore girl,” he grunted. “Dad probably misses you, the poor old man. Keep him company, will ya?”

“Don’t be silly, Mrs. Kim need his sleep in the morning.”

“Then shut up and don’t wake him,” he grunted, closing the door shut, but it took him just a second to reopen it. “Wait, if dad’s asleep, how did you get in?”

“I, uh… Might or might not know that you keep a spare key inside the porcelain elf’s hat,” your lips tugged upwards sheepishly.

“Of course you do, you little imp. I’ll be down in a sec,” he grumbled and shut the door again.

Taehyung had asked you a couple of times why you were so anxious to get to school that morning, but you just brushed it off with an excuse that you knew he wouldn’t buy. There were several reasons as to why you wanted to keep things to yourself for now. Mainly, it was because you were afraid that he’d be furious enough to break Ian’s face in front of everybody once you told him the whole story. Not that you felt any sympathy, but rather that you didn’t want Tae to get in trouble. You’d tell him as soon as you could, though. You didn’t care for the idea of him being friends – or whatever they were – with Jimmy.

As soon as you stepped into school ground, you discreetly searched for his motorcycle in the parking lot. It wasn’t there. You tried not to let the disappointment show on your face, but you couldn’t help it. He didn’t come today. Who cares? As much as you wanted to force some sense into your stubborn brain, you were still hoping he’d show up, even if you didn’t talk to each other. You just wanted to see him, is all. Great time to start acting like a stupid teenager, Y/N. Kudos.

You were in the middle of a pretty heated argument with yourself as you entered the classroom. Taehyung picked a desk in the middle, as he usually did when the both of you were able to sit next to each other. You were almost putting your stuff down at his side when something caught your attention. There. You felt a girlish jolt of excitement when you saw Yoongi sitting at the last row. His silky black hair was damped, probably from the shower, and he was wearing a black, long sleeved shirt, v cut. You were about to divert your eyes, but then he stared right at your face and calmy removed his bag from the chair next to his. He smirked, as if defying you to take a seat. Annoying little piece of-

“Tae, do you mind if I sit somewhere else today?”

“What?” He looked at you, confused. “Where do you want us to…” Your eyes flashed to the end of the room and he followed your gaze. “What? Why would you-”

“Do you mind?”

“Uh… No?”

“Okay, great. See you soon.” You knew Taehyung was confused, so you should probably be thinking of what to tell him when this class was over. But for now, you just carried yourself to the empty spot in the back. Yoongi was looking at you with an amused expression, hiding his little smile behind his intertwined hands. You wanted to wash that smug off his face so bad. You took a seat and his scent assaulted you, warm and musky. Almost irresistible. You saw Taehyung from across the room gazing at the both of you with an inscrutable countenance.

“Is your boyfriend mad that you sat with me today?” He audaciously asked.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“I see. Must be hard, then,” he looked almost sympathetic.

“What?” Your face contorted into confusion.

“Nevermind. Tell me how was your Sunday,” he said while opening his notebook and doodling something you couldn’t decipher yet.

“So we’re friends now?”

“Pretty much.”

“Shouldn’t you ask me first?” You lifted your brow.

“You’re bossy today.”

You were about to give him a proper answer when the teacher barged in, almost breathless. As the class began, focusing on Hess’s Law was your main priority, it really was. But you couldn’t help the tingle crawling up your skin every time he unintentionally bumped his arm into yours, because he was still drawing, keeping his head down since Mrs. Edwards started talking. Still, you couldn’t move. No. Focus. You held onto the edge of your desk with one hand, knuckles white, as you kept the other taking notes on the subject.

“Relax,” he softly whispered, not taking his eyes away from his notebook. You immediately loosened the tight grip of your left hand.

“I’m relaxed,” you lied, imitating his tone. He chuckled, lifting his head to show you the most beautiful gummy smile. God, why was he so distractingly handsome? His soft, pale skin, his cat-like eyes. His hands, Lord, you wouldn’t even dwell on his hands. Everything about him was appealing, alluring. His voice, his smell, his gaze. He was devilish.

All of a sudden, he ripped off the page he was working on. You tried not to get even more distracted, keeping your eyes on the board, until he touched your arm with his hand. You tensed. “Here, keep this if you want to,” he said, passing the folded paper to you. Curiosity washed over your face and you were about to unfold it, but he stopped you. “I don’t think you should open it now.”

“Why? Is it, like, an erotic sketch?” You could tell you broke his demeanor a little, he seemed both shocked and amused.

“I wonder if that kind of thought crosses your brain very often. You’re filthy, Y/N,” he smirked. You almost choked at his tone and his words. He was teasing you, and you refused to go down without a fight.

“Well, I don’t exactly know you, do I? You could be a perv.” He bit back a chuckle.

“I’m an honorable man. You’ll see.”

“Will I, now?”

“Yes. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

“You haven’t convinced me yet.”

“Challenge accepted.” The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds, then the bell rang. He grabbed his stuff and got up, then tilted his head and asked, “Do you want a ride… friend?”

“I thought you didn’t ride here today.” Confusion stained his expression before he realized the meaning behind your words. You could see the enlightenment in his face and suddenly banging your head on a wall wasn’t all too bad. He was too cocky for his own good, and now you’ve just made it worse. Way to go.

“I parked on a different spot,” he responded.

“Yeah, sure. Uh, anyways… Thanks for the offer, but I’m going home with Tae.”

“Suit yourself.” Before walking away, he turned around and said, “I’ll save you a seat tomorrow, Y/N.” Before you could elaborate an answer, he was already out the door, and Taehyung was in front of you with that ‘what-the-actual-fuck’ face he made every time he was caught off guard.

“I’ll explain on the way home,” you sighed.

||\\

You were both in the safety of your bedroom when you told Taehyung everything. From how Ian tried to do God knows what with you, to why he wasn’t able to. Pure luck. It was pure luck that Yoongi happened to be passing by, and it was pure luck that he’d bothered to check what was going on. You told him Jimmy was there. You saw the guilt and rage clawing their way to his chest, and there it was; the reason you were wary to tell him in the first place. Taehyung was explosive, a force of nature when he let himself indulge.

“I’ll kill him. Why did you hide that from me?” Even though he was trying his best to hold back, you could still tell how furious he truly was. “Answer me, Y/N, I’m not fucking around here,” he didn’t mean for it to sound like a scold, but it still did.

“I knew you’d be mad,” you retorted.

“Of course I’d be fucking mad. I don’t think you understand just how mad I am.”

“I know. Tae, really, nothing serious happened. It’s not worthy getting yourself in trouble for it.”

“How can you even say that?” he barked.

“Promise me you’ll let it go,” you asked softly.

He looked like he’d just heard the worst profanity fall from your lips. “I don-“

“Promise, Tae,” you were using your serious voice now, the one you used to tell him that no, it was not okay for him to mess with your books back when you were kids. You took it to the heart too often. He stared at you for a moment or two before sighing.

“Okay,” he grudgingly said. “If that’s what you want.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he said after a moment.

“It’s not your fault. Really, it’s not.”

“I know. I’m just… sorry,” he let his head rest on your lap. You hummed and stroke his hair for a while. These little moments of utter understanding and peace was one of the reasons he was your best friend. The person you could rely on, always. And he could always rely on you, too.

||\\

A few weeks passed you by in the blink of an eye. After the infamous events of that night, you and Yoongi grew closer each day. Not that it was always easy, he was infuriating at times; you had to be sharp to keep up with the incessant bickering. But, for what it’s worth, you were able to gather that he was much more than just a little shit, even though he tried to deny it.

And you suppose that’s one of the reasons to why your stomach flutters and your heart skips a couple of beats when he gets too close.

Probably a month too late, you come across that piece of paper Yoongi had mysteriously given you the first morning you sat together. You took it in your hands with a gasp and carefully unfolded it, taking a sharp intake of breath at the drawing. It was a pair of eyes – your eyes, perfectly detailed by strong, yet delicate, traces. It was beautiful and left no room for doubts as to whose they were. The cocky bastard was actually pretty talented, you had to give him that. Before you had much time to think about it, your phone rang. You hesitated a moment before picking up, the number was unknown.

“Hello?”

“Did you like it?” The voice on the other line was coarse and drawn, and you recognized it immediately.

“How did you get my number?” You asked while laying yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

He had become a constant whenever you were at school or at the library. Nothing beyond that. The call was a pleasent surprise.

“I have my ways. Will you answer at least one of my questions anytime soon?” There was a hint of a boyish amusement in his tone, and that instantly made you lighter. You liked him better in a good mood.

“You don’t answer any of mine, so why should I bother?” You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see you.

“That’s hardly fair. What do you want to know, George?”

You scoffed at the nickname. “First things first. I want to know how you got my number.”

“It’s not so hard to get privileged information on the students’ personal data if you’re charming enough. Ms. Parker has a soft spot for me.” Of course. You should’ve seen it coming.

“You’re shameless,” you scolded half-heartedly, taking a plushie in your hands and squeezing it.

“It’s one of my many qualities. So, can you answer me now?”

“Hmm… I might’ve liked it,” you stated, referring to the book he’d recommended. “But you’re already a pretty conceited man, so I should probably spare you the details.”

He was silent for a while, and you almost mention the drawing you found in your backpack. But then, he’s talking again. “So you think I’m pretty, huh?”

“Are you… Have you-“ you stammered in astonishment and he chuckled. “Do you actually select the words you want to hear?” you asked and he hummed.

“Where are you?”

“Home,” you answered without much thought.

“I’ll pick you up in ten. Be ready.”

“Wait, what?” You jolted out of the bed, dropping the plushie on the floor. “You can’t just… decide that. What if I’m busy?”

“You’re not.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“But you do,” He sounded almost confused. And he was right, you did want to. Somewhere deep inside your brain there was a voice saying that you should’ve objected at least a little bit more. But, against your better judgement, you kept quiet, and soon enough your silence gave you away. “I’m hanging up now. See you soon, George.” You meant to talk back to him, but he’d already ended the call. That, arrogant, insolent, contemptuous jer-

Before finishing that thought, you remembered you didn’t have much time. So you took a five minute shower, put on a little mascara and went out of the bathroom to find something to wear. There wasn’t enough time to go wild, so you just went for your favorite pair of mom jeans and tucked a burgundy sweater in. After brushing your hair and your teeth, you were ready.

As soon as you were done, you heard a horn and rushed to the window. There he was, in all his glory, hips resting against his stupidly cool Triumph Rocket. Black boots, black jeans, black long-neck shirt and his usual leather jacket. Wonder what his favorite color might be, you scoffed. He shot you a smirk that made you hold your breath for a moment. It now occurred to you that you had no idea as to where he was taking you. Also, was it a date? A friend thing? Shit. You should’ve said no. You sighed. It was too late now.

Before running downstairs, you sprayed a little bit of perfume on the nape of your neck and your wrists. Chloé, your signature scent.

“I’m going out for a bit.”

She was sitting by the window with a hot beverage on her hands and a book on her lap. Like mother, like daughter.

“Last time you said that…”

“I know,” you cut her off gently. “But I have class tomorrow. I promise I won’t be long.”

“Is your phone charged, young lady?”

“Yep, it is.”

“Then call me if anything happens, alright?”

“Sure thing. Bye, mom,” you gave her a brief peck on the forehead and rushed out the door.

He was waiting for you at the porch, even more breathtaking now that you could see him up close. His musky scent was stronger and his pale skin was glowing. He was drinking you in with mysteriously piercing eyes.

“Come,” he said, taking you by the hand.

“Where are we going anyway?” you asked. As the both of you approached his motorcycle, you were trying your best not to trip.

“You’ll see.” He took a helmet off a compartment that you didn’t know to exist and cupped your face to hold you still before he put it on you.

“Is this like a Hitchcock movie? Will you take me just far enough so I can meet my fate by the end of the night?” A hint of dread crossed his features, but he composed himself soon enough.

“Do you believe in fate, Y/N?” He asked, fixing the straps under your chin, his fingers setting your skin aflame.

“I don’t know,” you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but his countenance urged you to provide a proper answer. “Faith is just not my strong suit, I guess,” you mumbled.

Yoongi pondered about what you said for a moment. “Hold that thought, yeah?” Then he climbed the vehicle. “Hop on,” he started the engine. You were now too aware of the fact that you had never ‘hopped on’ one of those. “Don’t worry, I’m a really good driver,” he tugged his lips upwards.

“I just… I’ve never done this.”

“What, ride a motorcycle?” He asked and you nodded. “Trust me. I wouldn’t let anything happen,” he reassured you.

I know. So you climbed the damn thing and held tight onto his waist, almost comforted by his warmth. He felt the sensitive skin on his back crawl at the contact. Especially between his shoulder blades.

||\\

You spent the entire ride with your eyes closed. If you had any doubt that Yoongi was a mad man, those god-knows-how-many minutes on the back of his motorcycle had erased them completely. He was going fast. You could feel the wind ricocheting your face relentlessly, and every time he had to make a turn, your stomach fluttered. Sometimes, he turned his head just a little bit, as if checking if you were at least breathing, but you would grit your teeth and snap at him to look ahead, tightening your grip. You could feel him chuckle, his whole upper body being assaulted by small tremors.

But when you finally arrived at your destination, it was all worth it.

“Do you like it?” Expectation washed all over his ethereal features.

“Do I… like it? It’s amazing,” your eyes sparkled with wonder and astonishment at the sight of the ocean. You were at a relatively high spot, like a small cliff, and you could smell the delicious salty breeze that you adored so much. But what truly amazed you, what really took your breath away, was the electric blue lights sparkling all over the wave crests. “Bioluminescence! How did you find this place? Can we go down?” You asked with the biggest smile, a childish excitement seeping through your tone. He giggled, the most magnificent, angelic sound you had ever heard.

“I’d rather if we didn’t. I don’t want you to meet your fate at those slippery rocks, it wouldn’t be very Hitchcock-y,” he joked. You felt a bit disappointed but chose to let it go. The night, the sea, the sky; it was all too beautiful for you to allow yourself to be petty.

He took a few steps ahead and sat closer to the edge, wind whisking his hair and making his catlike eyes narrow. You followed suit, sitting in lotus by his side. You both took a minute to appreciate the sight, falling into a comfortable silence, that was soon broken by his husky voice.

“I come here a lot when I need to remind myself of who I am. Of where I’m from,” he said, still looking at the waters below, eyebrows furrowed. “I never thought of bringing anyone else here before.”

“So why did you?” Your voice was small, whispered.

“I don’t know. I guess…” he stopped for a moment. “I possibly just wanted to make sure you were okay. And I don’t know any place else that feels more like home to me. Perhaps I also wanted to share it with you.” Then he turned his gaze to you, eyes reflecting the moonlight. He was divine, bewitching. Especially now, when he seemed to be opening up to you for the first time. You felt your heartbeat speed up at his confession.

“Thank you,” you said softly, diverting your gaze to the waves. “I can understand why you’re so fond of this place. It’s blissful, feels like heaven.”

He humms, fixing his gaze on the crashing waves above you.

“Y/N.” He was surveying your face now, as if trying to read you. Expectant.

“Yes?”

“Do you believe in heaven?” His voice is a whisper and, for a moment, you wonder if you’d heard him correctly.

That was probably the last question you’d expected from him, it took you completely by surprise. You inhaled deeply, searching for the right words, but ended up blurting what first came to mind.

“For all I know, heaven is here. Hell, too. I want to be better, yes, for the people I love. I want to be better for whoever needs me to be, because I know how tough this can get. If there’s an afterlife… at least I’ll know that I tried to be good for the right reasons. So yeah, let’s say I don’t dwell on it. Whatever happens, happens.”

By the time you finished talking, there was something sparkling deep inside his onyx eyes that you couldn’t recognize.

“That’s sort of refreshing,” and there it was again. The sheepish gummy smile you adored so much, so utterly genuine and divine you thought you’d die.

“What about you?”

“Yes. Heaven, Hell, the whole ordeal. Except for God.”

“But… How would it be possible for all those things to exist without God?”

“That is not what I said,” he let out a humorless little chuckle. “Let it suffice that God is… I believe, much too real. Just not how humankind paint him to be. I believe God exists; I just don’t believe in him. Not anymore.” His tone was raw and melancholic. You ached with the need to console him, because he seemed adrift; and that bothered you more than it should.

Without realizing, your face had gotten closer to his, and suddenly he was all over the place. All you could see, smell, hear, it was all him. He must have known, because then he traced your features lightly with his long, graceful fingers. You thought that was it. That was heaven.

You closed your eyes so you could savor every second of it, heartbeat going wild and butterflies assaulting your stomach. He lifted his other hand, and now he was cupping your face gingerly, like you were made of glass. Every touch ignited something foreign and glorious inside of you.

He shifted, moving closer, and his scent hit you, unyielding, but you didn’t dare to open your eyes. When his lips finally brushed against yours, it was enough to set something off, and your hands made their way to his neck on their own as you let out a shaky breath. You pressed yourself harder and sucked on his bottom lip, before caressing it with the tip of your tongue, earning a groan from him.

Well, shit.

He took the hair in the nape your neck in a dainty – yet firm – fistful, asking permission with his tongue to deepen the kiss. There was no denying him, you could never. His taste, God, you could spend eternity tasting every single bit of him. When he licked past your teeth, you moaned, and it was so utterly pleasing, sinful, that he felt compelled to go harder, mercilessly swirling his tongue inside your mouth. There was no room to breathe, the neediness for one another unbending.

You don’t know how much time you spent in that haze of mind-numbing desire, but neither of you dared to stop. Until your phone rang.

You jerked away, pupils blown wide from the intensity of the moment, skin flushed. You were both panting, eyes trained on each other, searching, scrutinizing, waiting for a reaction. His reddened, glistening lips were parted slightly and he seemed displeased to cut the moment short. Even so, he managed to talk.

“You should probably get that,” he gusted, trying to catch his breath. You couldn’t find it in yourself to do anything but nod.

You took the device out of your back pocket and checked the ID caller, brows furrowing. He mirrored your expression.

“Who is it?”

“It’s a girl from school. We have history class together. That’s… odd,” you said. You and Sarah have never had a real conversation, one that didn’t involve Napoleon or Julien Sorel. You just had her number saved because of a paper you had to do together a while ago. “Hello?”

“Y/N? Thank God,” she sounded truly relieved. “Look, I’m sorry to bother you but… We’re at the school’s gym and-“ she let out a loud gasp, and only then you noticed the noise in the background, an uproar of voices and… Did you did hear a punch?

“Sarah? What is it?”

“Tae’s here. Y/N, you should come…”

Your blood ran cold.

“What? Is he okay? Sarah, tell me what’s going on. Now,” you blurted, already standing, missing the way Yoongi’s face contorted in confusion and concern.

“We tried to stop them, we really did, I-“

“Sarah,” you grunted.

“Okay, yeah. Him and Ian are at each other’s throats right now, it’s pretty bad. Y/N, I don’t think it’ll be long before someone calls the cops. I just thought I’d let you know, ‘cause-“

“I’ll be there in a minute,” you cut her off, and then hang up.

You were a lot of things at that moment, but mostly worried and angry. You had told him not to, you had told him to let it go, and he went behind your back. You heart rate was through the roof, adrenaline rushing through your veins. But this time, it wasn’t out of passion.

“Y/N,” Yoongi had a wary look on his face. “Tell me.”

“Can you take me back? Tae’s in trouble.”

||\\

He hadn’t meant to. He really hadn’t meant to break his promise, but he knew it was bound to be broken the minute he made it. The idea of someone else touching you was torturous enough, but to think of them doing it without your consent actually drove him crazy with rage. Those unbidden images of you scared, asking that piece of shit to stop, only for him to hold you tighter, closer, wrapping his filthy hands around you… it wouldn’t stop coming to him, even though he’d tried his hardest to restrain them. It had haunted him ever since you told him. He felt sick. He hated himself for not being there for you, with you. Like the disgraceful best friend he was, he’d canceled movie night to get wasted. Ugly feelings, even the ones he didn’t care to admit, pierced their sharp claws at his chest. Guilt, exasperation, jealously.

He’d tried to suppress the bitterness from watching you with the new guy, he tried to be just glad that he was there and hold out against it, because if he wasn’t… The point is: he really tried. But the way you looked at him made Taehyung’s stomach sink. He’d never seen it before, and he craved it like a man in the desert did a single drop of water. He wanted to be on the receiving end of that gaze more than anything.

He’d go mad if he stayed inside, so he went out for a jog. Your mother had told him you weren’t home, and he figured you’d be at the coffee shop near school. What a big surprise it was when he found Ian next to a blue SUV that was parked near the gymnasium. He choked out a chuckle; it was just too tempting. Rage boiled trough his veins, and at that moment he knew he couldn’t hold back. He couldn’t not break that scumbag in half, even if that meant he’d be going against your wishes.

So he did. Every punch, given or taken, satisfied him little by little. Because he also deserved to be punished, he thought.

||\\

“What was that shit that you pulled? After I explicitly told you to stay out of it! Why now?”

Taehyung had a bloody nose, a deep cut just above his eyebrow and some pretty ugly purple spots all over his upper body, staining his previously pristine skin. When you and Yoongi had arrived at school, you discovered he’d been taken. By a police officer, nonetheless.

You’d been so mad. But now that he was in front of you, all screwed up in torn clothes, the speech you had prepared escaped your mind. You just couldn’t understand his impulsiveness, and the fact that he was in a tiny, smelly cell because of you was infuriating.

“We both knew it was bound to happen eventually, so I figured rather sooner than later,” he answered nonchalantly.

“Taehyung,” you said through gritted teeth

“What, Y/N?!” He snapped. “You wanted me to let him get away with it?”

“Yes! Yes, I literally told you that that’s what I wanted!”

“Well, too bad,” he darkly said. He knew he was in the wrong here. But he was just too riled up to think straight.

“Okay,” you said, taking a sharp intake of breath while running your fingers through your hair, “Okay, let’s be practical about this. Your dad is coming, right? We can talk about it at home.”

“Fine,” he said, avoiding your eyes.

“Fine,” you, too, knew how to be petty. “I’ve got to go outside for a minute. Behave,” your gaze flashed to an officer for a second, but quickly made its way back to Taehyung. When you realized he wouldn’t give you an answer, you just sighed and carried yourself out the door.

As soon as you stepped out of the threshold, you saw Yoongi leaning on his motorcycle, arms crossed and head hanging from his shoulders. You didn’t know what tonight had meant. You wanted to at least try to figure out if he felt the same as you did, but you had bigger problems. And to be honest, you’d rather sleep on it. It was all too intense and hazy.

“Hey,” you said, walking slowly towards him. He lifted his head and offered a tiny smile.

“Your boyfriend really hates my guts, doesn’t he?”

“He’s not-“ you cut yourself off when you realized he was just messing with you again. Of course he is, he stuck his tongue down your throat just an hour ago. “Anyways. I guess Tae will be out in a couple of hours, but I have to stay here and wait for Mr. Kim. Thank you for… tonight.”

He nodded. “No problem, George. I’ll call y-“

Suddenly, his eyebrows knitted together and his whole body tensed as he straightened himself. If you ever told anyone about this, you’d probably be admitted in a mental facility. But you swore that, for an instant, his eyes changed colors, going from pitch black to a deep violet. It happened in a heartbeat, and then he wasn’t looking at you anymore, but at something past your shoulder. You felt a chill run down your spine as you turned around to see what caught his attention.

A tall, broad-shouldered man was walking towards you. As his lean figure got closer, the tension grew almost palpable, and you could see from afar he had a small smile plastered on his plump lips. But it wasn’t comforting at all. Instead, it was vile, almost sadistic. Your head snapped to Yoongi again, and you saw how he didn’t move a muscle, fists closed tight and jaw clenched. That made you panic a little.

“Yoongi, what-“

“Y/N, go inside,” his voice was hoarse and restrained, like he hadn’t talked in weeks.

No, you wanted to say. That man, whoever he was, screamed bad news. He walked like a predator, and you felt like his prey. Though your self-preservation instincts were going wild with every step he took, something stronger made you want to stay. You knew he wasn’t here for you, but for him. And that sparked a need to protect him that you didn’t know to exist, nor where it came from. However, you just kept quiet and waited for the man to catch up, not missing the murderous aura emitted from Yoongi.

At last, he stood in front of you, reddish hair and twisted smirk still on his face. You could see him clearly now, and he was beautiful. The kind of beauty you’ve only seen once.

“Has anyone actually pressed charges this time, little brother?” His voice was deceivingly soft.

Brother?

“How did you find me?” Yoongi asked with an icy voice that almost made you shudder.

“Is that how you greet your elders? Father would not be pleased.”

“Well, you’re one to talk, aren’t you?”

“People are still hung up on that, I see,” the man chuckled. “Yoongi-ah,” he said, his feet taking him closer at a slower pace. Yoongi kept his ground, knuckles white from his balled-up fists, while you instinctively took a step back. That’s when they both seemed to acknowledge your presence. Yoongi’s eyes bulged slightly, his pale skin becoming ever paler, while the other wore an unreadable expression on his face.

“I told you to go inside,” he almost growled, taking your wrist in an iron grip and pulling you to stand behind his back. You didn’t understand. You didn’t understand any of it. Why did he seem so threatened by his own blood? The man was scary, sure, but was he actually dangerous? Your head was spinning, so you held onto his jacket to keep yourself vertical.

“Were you not planning on introducing me to your friend, baby brother? That’s just rude, you know how much I love meeting new people.”

“I’d advise you to be careful now, Jin.” The threat in Yoongi’s low voice was noticeable even to you, but Jin didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, he relished on it. His little brother didn’t get all protective over just anyone, and the fact that he didn’t want the eldest to know about you pointed straight to a weak spot. One which he intended to take full advantage of.

“Easy, Prince, no need to get riled up,” Jin chuckled again, lifting both hands in a sign of peace. “What do you take me for?”

“Neither of us can deny your nature, can we, brother? It’s the reason why we’re here in the first place.”

“It’s true. Have you told her your name yet? Since you appear very comfortable sharing such details in front of her.”

“What are you doing here? I thought I had made myself clear the last time we saw each other,” Yoongi changed the subject, hoping you wouldn’t pay much attention to his question.

Jin’s face turned serious for the first time before he spoke. “They approached me, Yoongi-ah. It would seem that they need their Flam-“

“Quit it!” Yonngi growled. “Hold your tongue, I don’t want to hear any of it. You need to go.”

“Not until I have delivered my message.” The well-proportioned man stood his ground.

Yoongi took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He could not have this kind of conversation in front of you – in front of anyone, for that matter. Jin was breaking the rules; an old habit of his. “Then I need you to wait for me at home. I suppose you already know where I live, don’t you? I’ll meet you there soon.”

“Alright then. Y/N, it was splendid meeting you. I do hope I get to see you again soon.”

Yoongi scowled as he watched Jin turn on his heels and disappear in the night. For all he knew, Jin would never get this close to you ever again. He was caught off guard today. He then turned around, black orbs scrutinizing you for a reaction.

There were many things going through your mind at that exact moment. Too many questions, he could tell. You looked at him in a grimace of confusion and horror.

“How did he know my name?” That was the first thing that popped into your mind. You hadn’t said your name, neither did Yoongi. “And who’s ‘they’? And did he really just call you prince? Is that a pet name or something?” You blurted out, sensing you wouldn’t have too much time to elaborate the questions the way you wanted to.

He looked into your eyes, face contorted in what you could only describe as a desperate hesitation, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a fine line. He was pondering his options. You knew that because, when he made up his mind, you could clearly see the taint of resolution.

“I can’t answer your questions,” he muttered.

“Why not?”

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. Please, just forget about this. All of it.”

“What are you talking about?” you were on the brink of losing it at this point. First Taehyung, and now this. He wasn’t making any sense. But his eyes spoke to you in ways he couldn’t. Only then, you understood. “No,” you said with a resolution of your own. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Listen, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me right away, whatever it is, just don-“

“Y/N.”

“Yes?!”

“Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Listen to me just this once,” he groaned, stepping into your personal space. He twisted your hair in one hand, holding your face securely to his. When he rested his forehead on yours, your eyes gave into his wishes, closing on their own. “I’ll be gone for a little while, George,” your breath hitched, but you didn’t interrupt him. He gave you a light peck on the mouth, lips soft and moist, breath hot on your face. “I have to settle some things straight. Be good for me while I’m gone, yeah? Don’t do anything stupid,” he frowned.

“Will you come back?” your voice almost cracked, ‘cause you weren’t so sure of his answer. You felt foolish. You’ve only known him for a short period of time, after all. But the intensity of your feelings, though you couldn’t discern them clearly yet, scared you.

This felt horribly like goodbye – it was, at least for now – and you hated it.

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” you answered straight away.

“Alright,” he nodded. “Then I will.”

You didn’t dare open your eyes when he stepped away from you after one last chaste peck on your lips, nor when you heard him start the engine of his Triumph. But when you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, you jolted slightly and your eyes fluttered open.

“Let’s get you inside, kid” Mr. Kim said softly, brushing away a lonesome tear from your cheek. “Then you can help me scold my boy for making us come all the way to the police station on a school day, how does that sound?” he tried to uplift your spirit, and you offered him a half-hearted smile.

||\\

“Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell;

And in the lowest deep a lower deep

Still threatening to devour me opens wide,

To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.

Oh then at last relent: is there no place

Left for repentance, none for pardon left?”

It’d been four weeks since the last time you saw him. A whole month since he’d disappeared completely. At first, you waited anxiously for him to reappear out of nowhere. For him to just slide into the classroom, like he’d done the first time. But as time passed by and the third week came, you grew worried. He didn’t get specific about how much time it would take for him to do whatever it was, but you imagined it would be one, maybe two weeks. But now, a month later, you were beginning to wonder if he’d even come back at all. If something had happened, if he was okay…

No. He promised.

You’d rather not dwell on the possibility of something going wrong – hell, you didn’t even know what he was doing or what was that strange conversation he had with his deviant brother in front of the police station. You had a few theories, though. Not that you’d ever utter them out loud.

Number one: mafia. Maybe not The Godfather sort of thing, since that seemed pretty outdated, but rather… Scarface, perhaps? So you had come up with the idea of Jin being a druglord; nothing more, nothing less. It made sense, to be honest.

Number two: well, number two wasn’t exactly clear on your mind, but had something to do with super rich parents and an insane heritage. He could be the prince of an empire, right? You didn’t know anything about his family, except that his brother was blood-curdling.

You just wished to keep your head in the right place until he explained the situation to you. If he explained, that is. Sighing, you tried to contain your derailed thoughts and get back to the real world, where Taehyung needed you to pay attention to Mamma Mia! for the nth time.

“Alright, that’s it. You didn’t even sing along during S.O.S and that’s where I draw the line,” he said, taking the remote from your hand and pausing the movie. It was a cozy night and you were both plopped on the couch wearing socks and sweatpants.

“When have I ever sang along during S.O.S, Tae?”

“I remember it vividly, we were eleven. But that’s not the point,” he retorted. You bit your lip and kept your eyes trained on the frozen screen of the TV, already sensing where this was going. “You’ve been like this for a while now.”

“Like what?” you pushed, trying to feign innocence. You were not in the mood for this right now. You just wanted to stare unseeingly at the TV and have some private time with your own thoughts until the movie was over.

He sighed. “Look, I can only guess what’s going on,” he scowled, but tried to compose his features into a serene mask before speaking again. “But I need you to not be in your own head for a minute.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I want to help,” he said, taking your hand in his. The touch was warm and familiar.

“I know, Marzipan,” another sigh. You took your hand from his carefully and got up. “I’m going to the store, you want something?”

“What, now? Y/N-“

“I just-, I need coffee and snacks if we’re pulling this off. If you want me to keep my eyes opened during Moulin Rouge, that is,” you pointed out matter-of-factly

Taehyung shifted in his seat, face contorted in confusion, wariness and a hint of hurt. “Do you want me to go with you? It’s late.”

“No, it’s fine. You can stay and plan ahead, I’m sure we’re not stopping at the next one.”

He watched you silently while you fumbled for your keys. When you found them, he muttered: “Don’t be too long.”

“I won’t.”

As soon as you crossed the threshold, the cold air of the night hit your skin, making you shiver slightly. You closed the door and hid your hands in the pockets of your sweater, bringing it closer to your body in a poor attempt to keep the warmth from escaping.

Walking towards the convenience store located a couple of blocks from your house, you let yourself get lost in headspace again. You knew you weren’t being fair to Taehyung. As much as you wanted to talk about this situation with him, you couldn’t. It felt like betraying someone who hadn’t even put their trust in you to begin with. Yes, it was unfair, and maybe you were being a shitty friend every time he tried to have a serious conversation about the subject and you brushed him off with an excuse, like getting coffee in the middle of the night.

You sighed, not really willing to wallow in guilt tonight, and just tried to focus on your immediate task. One step after the other, then one more, and you could already see the lights of a tiny single shop, the only one opened this late at night. It belonged to Mr. Newton, a sweet old baker who treated you kindly every time he was filling up for his cashier.

You entered the store and heard the little bell announce your arrival. Much to your surprise, Mr. Newton was working there that night. As he saw your expression of detachment, he frowned. So you tried to arrange your features in a polite smile before speaking.

“Hello, Mr. Newton.”

“Y/N, child, why are you wandering alone when it’s already this late?” he asked softly, though clearly concerned for your safety.

“Don’t worry, sir,” you answered, walking towards the cooler where they kept the iced coffee and taking two in one hand, as you went for the chips next. “Tae and I needed a little snack. Movie night.”

He nodded and you placed the items on the counter for him to scan.

“Well, then. Tell that kid to come by whenever he can. My wife wants to send some essential oils for Mr. Kim’s aromatherapy sessions,” just as he’d said it, he got a bit closer to you, as if the next words to come out of his mouth were a secret. “Truth is, she misses him. The boy is the only one who can stand her cooking.”

Despite being moody, you chuckled wholeheartedly. No one could be indifferent to Taehyung’s charms, it seemed.

“Yes, sir, I’ll tell him.”

As you went through your wallet to pay the old man, you heard the little bell once again. Mr. Newton greeted the new client, but you were too engrossed in finding the right bills to snap your head in the newcomer’s direction. However, the inquisitive sound that left the old man caused you to steal a glimpse, catching auburn hair and broad shoulders in their wake. You stood still for a moment, trying to recall why those locks seemed so familiar. Until it hit you.

“Jin?” you breathed, not loud enough for anyone in the store to actually hear you. Just as you muttered his name, he closed the door and turned left, disappearing from your sight. You gasped. “Keep the change, Mr. Newton!” you said – audibly, this time – leaving a ten dollar bill on the counter and grabbing your stuff as gracefully as you could muster, rushing to the door like your life depended on it.

“No running in the store, kid!” he tried to scold you, but could already feel the cool breeze as you opened the door and looked around, expecting to find his brother. Only this time around you weren’t scared, no. You wanted answers, heart beating fast at the possibility of hearing from Yoongi, maybe even seeing him… Okay, no, not the time for this, first things first.

When you realized he was nowhere to be found, you ran. Left. He went left. You passed by a few houses and almost tripped on a stray cat, turning your head to the side to check on it and apologizing profusely as you picked up your pace again. A few blocks later, you were already out of breath. You came to a halt and put both hands on your knees, gasping and feeling your lungs burn.

Trying to ease your labored breathing, you realized that you were probably going crazy. A halfhearted chuckle escaped your parted lips. You were disappointed, even if actually meeting the redhead meant trouble. Trying not to let frustration and melancholy get the best of you, you decided to just let it go and head back home. Even if it was Jin, he probably wouldn’t tell you anything anyway.

||\\

The snow under your feet was slippery as you got out of the library, leather backpack and navy-blue beanie on. You held a large cappuccino on one hand, careful not to spill it as you dodged passers-by and umbrellas every now and then. The streets were a little crowded that afternoon, and you were dying to get home and relish on Mrs. D’Angelis’ famous chicken noodle soup. Maybe she’d even grant you a warm glass of wine if you asked properly. You tried to occupy your mind with ordinary, day-to-day thoughts, trying to ignore the flutter on the pit pf your stomach.

During that entire week, you were constantly under the impression that something was off. When you were going to school with Taehyung, or grocery shopping for your mother, there was always that tingling feeling on the nape of your neck that told you that someone was watching. Then you’d turn around and nothing. No one was ever there. The uneasiness was uncomfortable, but you didn’t feel endangered, just really jittery. And your motto was: no better medicine for anxiety than tons of caffeine.

“Mom, I’m home!” you crooned, taking your coat off and discarding the empty thermal cup.

“In the kitchen, honey!”

The smell was splendid. You took a deep breath, already yearning for the hot meal, and kissed your mother on the cheek while she stirred… something.

“Uh, smells nice,” you praised, making your way to the fridge for a glass of water. “I’m shocked Tae hasn’t come knocking on our door yet. Maybe his flair is broken because of the flu.”

“Is Taehyungie sick, honey? Why didn’t you tell me?” she almost whined.

“It’s nothing, just a bit of phlegm. But I’ll take some of these,” you pointed to the pots, “for him and his dad later.”

“You really should. Now go upstairs and change before dinner.”

You mumbled a response and climbed the stairs to put on some good old band t-shirt and sweatpants. You didn’t notice the broad-shouldered frame behind the door, and as soon as you closed it behind you, you felt a cold hand covering your mouth, while the other held you in place by the waist. Your whole body tensed, eyes bulged and breath hitched. Fuck. You were prepared to let out a loud scream, but his whispered voice stopped you.

“It’s me, it’s me,” he shushed you. As a reflex, your muscles relaxed. “Gonna take my hand off your mouth now, George,” he informed, slowly moving his hand from your face.

Of course it was him. His smell was all over the place, his touch still left little electric jolts on your skin. You snapped your head and turned around to face him. You realized your memories could never do him justice. He was so heartbreakingly handsome, you could cry. Pale skin, shiny disheveled raven hair. You noticed the circles under his eyes were darker and he seemed exhausted. Regardless, when your eyes fell on his lips, your body reacted before your mind could.

Your hands made their way to the nape of his neck, caressing and gently pulling his hair. At the same time, you clasped your lips together on a desperate kiss. His surprise didn’t stop him from matching your frenzy, grunting as he sucked your upper lip and asked permission with his tongue, one that you promptly granted. Henceforth, your tongues performed an erotic, lewd dance as they fought for dominance, swirling and exploring each other’s mouths.

Only when the back of your knees touched the bed did you realize he was moving you towards it. He broke the kiss for a moment to mercilessly throw you on the soft duvet, and you let out a surprised moan when he immediately covered your body with his, mouth returning to yours. A primal need surged from within you when you felt one of his hands roaming at your side lustfully, gabbing tight on your ribcage, your waist, your hip. He hoisted your leg and you hooked it around him, holding back a loud moan when he pressed his erection to your groin. You could feel your panties drenching from the sudden contact, a new wave of desire making your core ache.

“Y/N-“ he tried to speak through heavy breathing, his lips never leaving yours long enough for him to finish a sentence. “Baby,” he groaned, obviously trying to say something, but you weren’t ready yet. You rocked your hips against him, earning another lecherous noise from his rosy lips as he closed his eyes shut.

You used that moment of weakness to knock him to his side, climbing on top of him as you clamped your thighs harder on his hips. His eyes went dark at the sight, a devilish smirk tainting his beautiful features. You didn’t give him time to say anything, taking his lips on another bruising kiss. His hands on your ass, squeezing and groping, and you felt him throb inside his pants. You moaned, a gush of wetness coming out as you clenched around nothing. You couldn’t form coherent thoughts anymore, pressing yourself harder against his bulge as you rolled your hips, searching blindly and desperately for a sweet release that was already so close…

“Hold it, baby.” His voice was stern, and he pinned both your wrists on your back, his hands seeming incredibly big when closed around them. He was sitting now, hot, labored breath hitting your lips, heightening your senses and sending shivers down your spine. You crumbled under his dominant demeanor, feeling an inconceivable need to obey, and instantly stood still. It surprised him as much as it did you, and you saw a smug grin plaster itself on his face. “That’s it. Be good for me so I don’t lose my mind.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know to be holding and weakly nodded, mind still clouded with want. He let go of your wrists and gently pecked your lips, sitting you down on the bed instead of his lap. Father knows he would be physically uncapable of having a proper train of thought if he didn’t.

“So… I guess we have a lot to discuss first, don’t we?” his smile was sheepish now, hands going through his hair in a nervous tick.

“Yes,” you breathed out. “What happened? I was so worried, Yoongi, you have no idea. I didn’t even know where you were or what the hell you were up to, I-“ you took a moment in order to stabilize your voice. You knew you were affected by his sudden absence, you just didn’t know how much until now that he was actually in front of you. “I don’t even know what the worst case scenario could be, but I bet my thoughts came pretty close,” you chuckled humorlessly.

“I’m sorry, I never meant to worry you. If I knew I’d be gone for that long, I would’ve told you before I left. I missed you so much,” he confessed, voice lower than before, and rested his forehead on your own.

“Tell me. Please, I need to know,” your brows furrowed.

“I met my brothers,” he paused, waiting for a reaction that never came. It’s not that you were not surprised by the information that he had other siblings, you just wanted him to finish it before you spoke. “Jin aside, I spent… years apart from my family. You could say that we didn’t leave things on the best of terms when I left father’s, so it was a surprise for me when I learned that they wanted to talk. Notwithstanding that it’s out of need, not love.” His heavenly features contorted in hurt and resentment, and you felt you own heart clench. You gave him an eskimo kiss as a sign of reassurance and he smiled timidly. “They offered to take me back. It’s… certainly a grand gesture for the likes of us,” he shook his head slightly and knitted his brows.

“Isn’t that a good thing? Don’t you miss them?” you didn’t know why your voice was so small.

“Not anymore, no.” His gaze was intense and made your heart beat impossibly faster. “I do miss them. They used to be my whole existence, the reason for every breath of mine. But now… now everything’s changed.”

“What’s changed?”

“You.”

Your breath hitched. If it was anyone else, if it was any other situation, you’d laugh at the cheesy line. But this was him, and that, too, changed everything. That one word was enough to unleash butterflies in your stomach, enough of them to knock you breathless. The truth behind his statement carried a heavy meaning, one that you yearned for and that made you giddy. His onyx orbs were wary, and you wondered if he was blind to the utter relief plastered on your face. It was selfish, but you couldn’t help it. Not when it came to him.

“H-How come?”

He chuckled. “Don’t get bashful on me now, George, I’m pretty sure you understand.”

You tried to scowl, but the grin was insistent on your lips. “Alright, let’s put a pin on that. You still haven’t told me everything. What did your brothers want?”

“Y/N, there are certain things about me and my family that I cannot tell you. It wouldn’t be safe.”

“You don’t trust me?” you were mainly curious, but a hint of hurt could be heard, too.

“That’s not it. It just wouldn’t be safe for you.”

“Is your family involved in something… illegal? Is that why?”

“Not illegal, no,” he chuckled.

“Then I don’t understand.”

“I know. But please, George, don’t be stubborn about this one. All I’m asking for is a leap of faith,” his eyes were pleading as they bore into yours. Was he aware that he could probably convince you that the sky was neon green if he looked at you like that?

“It’s a big leap,” you mumbled.

“I know. Just trust that I have good reasons,” he smiled softly.

You sighed. “Fine, Romeo, keep your secrets. Just tell me if you get too deep into whatever it is that the Min’s are hiding. I care about your safety just as much as you care about mine.” You forced the heat back, secretly hoping that it did not reach your face in time for you to actually blush.

“Doubt it,” he grinned. “Dinner is ready, Mrs. D’Angelis will be coming for you soon. I should get going.”

Your face paled as you rushed to the wardrobe, retrieving some clean clothes from your drawer. “Wait,” you stopped on your tracks in the middle of the room, glaring at Yoongi through narrowed eyes. “How do you know that?”

“I have my ways,” he shrugged, then tugged his lips upwards on a daring smirk. “It’s a secret.”

“If you keep giving me clues I might just figure it out. Go on.”

He chuckled and stood up from the bed, walking languidly in your direction. He touched your nose with the tip of his index finger, tracing it’s way all up to your forehead, then coming down to your jaw, where he grabbed firmly. His lips were smooth and slightly damped as they softly touched yours in a chaste kiss. A ragged sigh of pure bliss escaped you, and you tried to fight the haziness.

“Bye, George,” he was still lingering when he spoke. As he broke the contact and turned to the window, you woke up from the trance.

“Stay,” you breathed out. He looked at you with a hint of confusion. “I-I mean, you can stay if you want. I can bring you some of mom’s soup and we can eat it here. But you don’t have to, if you’re bus-“

“Okay,” he deadpanned.

“Okay. Yeah, uhm… I’ll go change in the bathroom, you can make yourself comfortable.”

“Already am,” he said as he threw himself on the bed, bouncing a little. His countenance was amused and he eyed you intently, toying with the elephant plushie.

“Of course you are,” you snorted, carrying yourself to the bathroom.

That night, you both relished on your mother’s cooking while watching some old movie about Cole Porter on your laptop. You were sure that it wasn’t his cup of tea, but he payed attention to it nonetheless. After you were done, you offered to take the dishes downstairs, since your mother would probably have a stroke if she knew there was a boy in your room. You stopped by Taehyung’s to check on him and offer his favorite hot meal, but it didn’t take more than five minutes. You were on a hurry, and he knew better than to question it.

Back upstairs, you and Yoongi curled up under the covers and tried to find something interesting enough to watch for what seemed to be ages, your head resting on his chest and his hands holding you securely by the waist. It wasn’t long until you fell asleep, and only then did he leave, pecking your forehead gently before jumping out the window.

||\\

“Get in.”

“No,” you tried to end the discussion then and there. As expected, you failed.

“Y/N, you can’t go back on pinky promise. You should’ve thought this through.” His goal was to sound stern, but in reality you could see the hint of a pout on his lips. “It’s my birthday.” Okay, there it was. That was definitely a pout.

“No,” you closed your eyes shut and facepalmed – for good measure. “Don’t give me those eyes, I’m not looking,” the sound was muffled by your hands.

He wrapped his incredibly large fingers around your wrists and whined: “Come on, we’re already here. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Why on earth would you say that?” you instantly took your hands from your face and shot him a glare. He had the nerve to chuckle.

“You can’t possibly expect me to do this alone.”

“You can’t possibly expect me to do this at all,” you retorted, kicking the snow piled up near the curb, shunning away from his puppy dog eyes.

“You promised you would! I’ll do it, Marzipan. If you win this round, I’ll get a tattoo with you as a birthday present,” his voice was high pitched.

You snorted. “I was out of it, mental faculties completely fried. Drunk on power and merlot. Plus, I’m pretty sure you cheated, you could never beat me at Mario Kart,” you grumbled.

“I did not cheat,” he was outraged. “I’m a lawful man, I abide by the rules, and they are clear: a bet is a bet.”

You honestly have no idea why you let him talk you into this. Perhaps because you’ve been feeling guilty lately, and therefore didn’t have the heart to turn him down when he broke into your room to collect his victory this morning. It’s a good present, right? To get tattoos with your best friend? He had been trying to convince you since three birthdays ago. You hoped it would be enough to ease a bit of the weight on your chest.

Truth is, you had been spending too much time with Yoongi these past few weeks. After what happened when he showed his face again, it became routine that he came by almost every night when your mom fell asleep. You’d talk, watch movies, kiss… But what you enjoyed the most were those moments where you curled up in his embrace, face buried in the crook of his neck, and neither of you would say a word. You’ve always appreciated peaceful silence, but those moments were so much more. You felt truly connected to him, in a way you’d never felt with anyone else. Like you were both pieces of the same puzzle, cheesy lines aside.

Or when he would be the one to rest his head on your chest, blinking lazily as you twisted his silky, raven locks in your fingers. Perhaps those were truly your favorites, as you felt the incontrollable urge – need – to be protective of him, to never let anything disturb his serene, almost childlike countenance, so bare before you in the night’s veil. Before the sun came up and brought back the little wrinkle between his eyebrows.

During the day, you often returned to his safe haven – one that ultimately became yours, too. The waves breaking against the rocks, the salty breeze, the deep blue of the ocean, you had gotten acquainted to it all in a heartbeat. On occasion, you’d bring warm, fuzzy blankets, hot cocoa and books, spending an entire afternoon on your own personal eden.

You never meant for any of it to get in the way of your friendship with Taehyung, but counterbalancing proved to be harder than you first thought. Although you may have gotten too caught up, inevitably distancing yourself a bit, you were now eager to make it up to him. He was like family, after all. So here you were.

“Fine, have it your way. But I’m telling mom that you put me up to this,” you threatened. The snow under your boots making a crunchy noise while you crossed the street to get to the tattoo parlor.

“She won’t believe you. I’m a saint. I’m her Taehyungie.” He was beaming.

As soon as you got in, you saw a man sitting behind the counter. He was buff, and you’d bet that pretty much his whole body was covered in piercings and tattoos – mostly about dragons and snakes. Looks aside, his voice was warm and welcoming when he greeted you.

“Welcome, kids. My name is Eli, how may I help you today?”

All the drawings and pictures on the walls seemed to have detained Taehyung’s attention, so you plastered a polite smile on your face before answering.

“Hi. My friend over here came to get a tattoo,” you pointed at the boy beside you and he scowled.

“We both did,” he smiled at the receptionist.

“Alright. You have to sign a couple of forms before we get into details. You’re both legal, right?” the receptionist asked and you nodded. “Peach. Just a second,” he turned his attention to the computer in front of him, taking a couple of papers from the printer soon after. He handled you each a consent form. Before you signed yours, you exchanged a look with Taehyung, almost having a whole conversation – bickering – with him through knowing looks.

“Here you go,” Taehyung handed the papers to Eli.

“Cool. Do you guys have something in mind? We have a few drafts you can check out. But if you already know what you want, Hyunjin can draw it when you get inside. Don’t worry, he’s good.”

“I have something in mind,” Taehyung offered a bright boxy smile. “I guess I’ll just explain it to him, then.”

“Great,” Eli turned his eyes to you, realizing that you definitely had not made up your mind just yet. “If that’s the case, I’ll let him know that you’re going in,” he said to Taehyung, who nodded in response. When the buffy man went to the back, he glared at you through narrowed eyes.

“I’ll come back with permanent ink on my skin. You better not chicken out by the time I’m done,” he threatened.

“Hope you don’t regret it within the year,” you taunted.

“I won’t,” he snorted.

Eli returned a second later, excusing himself to lead Taehyung to the tattoo artist. In the meantime, you picked a binder that was resting on top of the counter to take a look at the drawings he’d mentioned, hoping to find something you’d actually like – or at least an inspiration. Most of them were very intricate, and although they were beautiful, you wanted something simple. Less is more when you’re tainting your skin for life because of a bet.

You were turning the pages with such disinterest that you almost missed it. It seemed unfinished, just a sketch, and you couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason as to why it caught your attention in the first place. It was a dragon intertwined in a circle, it’s countenance exuding fierceness and strength. Inside the circle, however, was just an unembellished arrangement of lines, one that was strangely familiar and alluring. 9-7-1-12-6, if you think about a clock.

“Oh, I see you’ve found Lee’s work. What do you think?” Eli pulled you out of your headspace.

“Uhm… Yeah, he’s great. His drawings are pretty authentic.”

“Uh huh, he’s been working on those for a while now. So, do you have any idea what you’re gonna get yet?”

“Not really. I mean, I liked this one,” you pointed to the page you were previously analyzing. “Do you know if it means anything in particular?”

“Yes! Actually, it does, but I can’t really remember what. I think it’s a sigil, though. You know, one of those thingies people believe to be magical.”

“Mhm.” You really didn’t know why you felt the need to purge those next words, but you were saying them before you could stop yourself. “This is it.”

“What? You’re gonna tattoo that?” Without even knowing what it means?

“Yes. I liked the dragon.”

||\\

His lips were soft against your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps on their wake when he moved them lazily to your jawline, wet little kisses making you squirm and sigh. His index finger was tracing patterns on your bare thigh, caressing and examining as if he’d never done it before, as if you were a made of glass. The sun had graced you with its appearance for the first time in weeks, and you wanted to enjoy the good weather as much as possible, so you had convinced Yoongi to lay on the grass by your side.

“Tired of Miss Brontë already, love?” his velvety voice evinced his amusement.

“Can’t read. You’re distracting me.”

He chuckled lightly, delivering small puffs of air on the crook of your neck, and raised his head just enough to look at you, blocking the sunlight and making it possible for you open your eyes. Before he’d made his mission to disturb your concentration, you were reading for him, like people do with kids before they go to bed. It became a thing after the first time you did it, and now he picked a different book every week or so. When you’d asked about it, he just shrugged and declared that ‘It’s just nice. I like hearing you.’ This week, it was Wuthering Heights.

“Continue, please,” he adjured, laying his head on your chest as a demonstration of good will. You grabbed the book you’d previously set aside and opened it, leaving one hand free to play with his locks.

“That, however, which you may suppose the most potent to arrest my imagination, is actually the least, for what is not connected with her to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped on the flags. In every cloud, in every tree—filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day, I am surrounded with her image. The most ordinary faces of men and women—my own features—mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her.”

His eyes were no longer closed, he was gazing at you.

“Do you pity him?” he suddenly asked.

“Heathcliff? I don’t.”

He nodded slowly. “So, you think there’s no redemption, then?”

“Not for him. He lived and died as an antagonist. Some might think his cruelty is just an expression of his frustrated love for Catherine, or that he conceals at least some virtue, a romantic heart. They expect him to be anything but what he constantly proves to be, they expect misunderstood heroes. But he himself acknowledges his sadistic nature.”

He stood still, seeming to be lost in thoughts while tracing invisible patterns on your shoulder and refusing to meet your eyes.

“Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?” he asked wistfully.

You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.

“I’ve never had to,” you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you. “Hey,” you dig your nails gently on the nape of his neck, asking for his attention. When he raised his head, the wrinkle between his eyebrows was there again. It worried you that, since he’s been back, it’s been a constant feature of his. Every now and then, his face twisted into an inscrutable grimace. “You understand, don’t you?”

A half-hearted nod was your response, and he built up the mask to conceal his discomfort once again.

“Enough vitamin D for you? I can’t stand the heat,” he grumbled.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, pressing your lips to his forehead and standing up, stretching a helping hand. “Where do you want to go?”

“My place.”

Which was code for: Your mom is home and I want to pass out on my bed nuzzling you.

“Whatever you want, grandpa.”

“Be a brat and I’ll hit the throttle,” he threatened, positioning himself on top of his Triumph. Sometimes he took full advantage of just how dreadful you found his two-wheeled vehicle. And it always worked. You snorted, climbing on the back seat and wrapping your arms around him. “Hold tight, George.” His warning was delivered with amusement, but you knew better than to take it lightly.

The fifteen-minute trip went as smoothly as it could, and even though you’d made sure to keep your eyes closed, you still felt dizzy and light-headed when he parked into the old building’s garage. He sensed your distress and got off the motorcycle slowly, careful when untangling you’re your arms from his waist and never completely breaking physical contact.

“Open your eyes,” he murmured, one hand on the small of your back and the other placed on your hip. You took a deep breath and your eyelids tentatively fluttered. His lips brushed your right cheek as he effortlessly lifted you and put you down on the floor, covering the entirety of your hand with his and making a beeline for the elevator.

Yoongi’s apartment was on the fourth floor, which happened to be the last one – the building was a small, fading-yellow rectangle in the middle of a quiet neighborhood. In a way, it suited him. Secluded and discreet. Perfect for a misanthrope such as himself, given that you’d never even bumped into one of his neighbors – and you’d been visiting quite regularly. On another note, however, it was uncannily unpretentious for someone like him.

He stopped for a moment on the front door, fumbling for the keys in his pocket. As soon as he opened it, you made your way to the couch, crashing with a sigh, face buried in the cushion. A minute had passed before he plopped on top of you, compelling a puff of air out of your lungs. You grumbled something about manslaughter, but the sound was muffled. He ignored you, making himself comfortable by nuzzling your neck and taking off his shoes using only his feet. You chuckled, making an effort to turn on your back so you could catch a breath.

“Sleepy?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair. He hummed a response, content with your ministrations. “I, uh… have something to show you.”

He raised his head from your throat, eyeing you curiously. “What is it?”

“Bedroom,” you commanded.

“Oh, I see,” he taunted, but stood up nonetheless. You rolled your eyes.

You guided him to his room and closed the door behind you. He leisurely sat on the bed, waiting cautiously for you to proceed. You sucked in a deep breath, growing doubtful under his gaze. Pushing all insecurities aside, you unzipped your shorts.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” he warned in a low-pitched, deep voice, orbs darkening considerably. You dismissed it, tiptoeing closer to him. He straightened his back and raised his eyes to meet yours, searching for any indication of what you intended to do. You pushed the waistband down, letting the piece of clothing pool on the floor, but he didn’t flinch, attention still focused on your features. When you hooked one finger on the hem of your white panties, he quickly snatched your wrist on a tight grip, brows knitting together. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, baby. You know that, right?”

Your chest swelled with warmth and affection. After the night he came back, things heated up a couple of times. Once he’d realized how tense and anxious you got at first, he began to hold back, withstanding your advances. You never verbalized anything, but he had a hunch, and pressuring you was definitely not on his to-do list. He was being respectful and caring, and although you shouldn’t accept nothing less, it made you feel safe. He made you feel safe, always.

“Let me show you,” you murmured, a soft smile blooming on your face. He seemed puzzled, but ended up nodding warily. When you moved your finger, slightly pushing the fabric down to expose your hip, he finally had the guts to jeopardize his restraint and look down. You didn’t know what you expected his reaction to be, but that certainly wasn’t it.

His breath hitched and he paled, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. He didn’t move a single muscle, whole body tensing up. It was as if he couldn’t fully comprehend the sight before him, like he couldn’t believe. He composed himself soon enough, but you could still see the glint of shock in his eyes. It didn’t make any sense.

“When did you get that?” his voice came out flat and a few octaves lower than usual.

“A couple of weeks ago,” you frowned. The tattoo that marked your hip was now almost fully healed. You were doubtful in the beginning, but now you kind of grew fond of it. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you know…” he cleared his throat, fingers twitching. “Do you know what it means?”

“Not exactly,” you confessed sheepishly. “The tattoo artist said it was a religious symbol and… Truth be told, I’m not even sure why I did this. Just felt right,” you mumbled, realizing then that you probably sounded a tad out of it. You held your lip between your teeth, unsettled.

“Yes. It’s the sigil of one of the seven archangels, love. It’s… Michael’s… sigil,” his jaw clenched, but his tone was now softer. “It’s used to invoke strength and protection. The ancients believed that, if you will it enough, he will be able to hear your prayers and, perhaps, be of assistance,” he laid his hand flat on your skin, stroking the symbol with his thumb, oblivious to the little jolts of electricity the simple gesture sent through your body. An unfamiliar mixture of dejection, despair and awe flashed through his onyx eyes, and you wondered what it was that he wasn’t telling you that could’ve possibly elicited such reaction.

“How do you know all that?” you wanted him to focus on something other than whatever it was that poisoned his thoughts.

“Father taught me,” he shrugged.

It’d been a while since he last mentioned his family. But you knew he was thinking about them whenever you saw the accentuated wrinkle every time he furrowed his brows, or when his muscles felt so tense to the touch that he was akin to marble against your skin. He was worried, he had been for a while now. And it scared you. You needed to know.

“Yoongi…” the uncertainty that laced your tone made him squeeze your flesh encouragingly. “Where is he? Your dad.”

“Home,” he stated tersely.

“I know, but… Where is home? And what about your brothers? I know you said you don’t speak to them anymore, you just never explained why.”

“We’ve already talked about this. They’re home, too. Y/N, just forget it,” he shook his head, avoiding your gaze.

“Why do you build this wall between us every time? It’s frustrating. I can help-“

“You can’t,” he deadpanned, breaking off any contact when he got up, making his way to the door. His demeanor screamed for you to back off, that he had no interest in continuing the conversation. But you were done being left in the dark.

“Why is it so hard for you to trust me, huh?”

“I already told you that it’s not a trust issue,” he raised his voice. “Why can’t you accept that I don’t want you to get caught up in the middle of my mess?”

“Well, I am caught up in the middle of your mess!” you roared. “You were gone for an entire month and have been on edge ever since you got back. Something’s going on, I’m not stupid.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N,” a deep growl escaped his throat. “It’s none of your business, if we’re being honest here. They’re my problems, I’m the only one who can fix them – hell, not even that.”

“If you could stop being such a jerk for a second, you’d realize that they became my problems, too, as soon as I fell in love with you. But you’re so far up your own ass that we can’t even discuss things without yelling at each other,” you spit the words. “Do you know what it’s like for me to watch you struggle like you’ve got the whole world on your shoulders? Especially when my hands are tied,” you stepped closer to his figure, heart hammering on your chest after your little speech. It was nothing but a whisper when you said, “You’re not alone, you idiot.”

His whole expression softened, and you could recognize a faint smile on his velvety lips. Taking a deep breath, he closed the distance between the both of you and let his hand rest on the column of your neck.

“I am an idiot,” he nodded, visibly calmer. “And you’re stubborn, you know that?”

“Might have heard something about it,” you grumbled.

He hummed. “Forgive me. Could you?”

“Maybe. Will you… I mean, I just wish you’d open up a little. I’m scared, Yoongi,” you confessed.

“Me, too.”

“I know. That’s why.”

He shook his head and lowered it until his skin touched yours. “I’m scared of your reaction, baby. I don’t know if you’ll want me once you discover the truth,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

“I’d say you’re safe. Unless your family is trying to coerce you into becoming a real life Michael Corleone. You didn’t shoot anyone in the head, did you?”

He chuckled wholeheartedly and took a step back to maintain eye contact and mock you properly. “That’s your theory? That I’m a mobster?”

You looked down sheepishly, before answering nonchalantly in a small voice, “One of them.” He couldn’t help himself, even though his hand was pressed tight against his mouth and his eyes were glistening with unshed tears of amusement. He tittered.

“May I know the others?”

“No,” you glared.

“Oh, George, what if I ask nicely? What if I say please?”

“Not even then.”

“How about pretty please?” You shook your head, trying to pass through him to get to the kitchen, but he encircled his arms around you from behind before you could grasp the knob. “And what if I tell you that I am, too?” he breathed in the shell of your ear and you held your breath for a second. You didn’t need him to vocalize what you already knew, but you felt butterflies fluttering anyways. Still, you kept your ground, suddenly very conscious of the fact that your shorts were still pooled on the floor near the bed.

“Closer, goodfella. But not enou-“

The loud bangs on the front door cut you midsentence. You felt Yoongi’s body stiffen before something that sounded terribly similar to a low growl broke out of his throat.

“Get dressed and stay here,” he ordered, authoritative. He didn’t spare you a glance before exiting the bedroom, and you felt a dreadful feeling claw up your insides, piercing your gut and making you nauseous. Pulse thrumming viciously under your skin, you fetched your shorts and wiggled it up, fastening the belt with shaky hands. Stop overreacting, you told yourself over and over, growing more anxious by the second. You couldn’t understand why, to be honest.

Taking deep breaths, you forced your fidgety fingers to stay still as you fell limp on the soft mattress, eyes closed. Your mind wandered to the safe haven: cotton clouds and baby blue sky, the smell of the grass, the books scattered around you and him. For a minute, you could truly take the edge off. Until you heard the noise of glass shattering on the wall.

Getting off the bed as fast as you could, your head spun. You opened the door quietly, careful not to expose the presence of another person in the house, and made a beeline to the kitchen. While you looked franticly for something that could be useful as a weapon, you tried to stay attentive to the sounds. They were muffled, but you could discern at least two voices, apart from Yoongi’s.

Alright. Great.

As any sane person who’s watched more than a few movies would do, you went for the most obvious choice. Knives. Better safe than sorry.

Almost counting your steps, you tiptoed your way to the living room. The voices were not very loud, but you could easily understand what was being said now that you were closer.

“It’s imperative that you return with us now,” a dulcet, almost high-pitched voice uttered softly. “I am sure you are aware of your responsibilities. It’s time.”

You stayed hidden behind the icy-white wall that separated the two rooms, gripping the hilt of the knife so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Maybe you shouldn’t be eavesdropping, that was clearly a family matter. Maybe you should lock yourself in Yoongi’s bedroom and do as he said. But the truth was that you were far too curious – and now far too enchanted by the childlike voice – to stop yourself from prying.

“I believe you have already forgotten about the current state of affairs, then? Father exempted me from my duties as soon as he banished me from the Gates and sent me to exile,” Yoongi spit. You could see it clearly in your head as he ran his fingers through his hair in annoyance. He sounded… different. You didn’t have the courage to tilt your head and steal a glance, afraid they’d catch the motion.

“Father warned you about the consequences of your stubbornness, Michael, but you were very much unyielding in your misconceptions,” the second person said, gruffy and curt.

“It is not a misconception to care for our own flesh and blood.”

Wait. Michael? Had he been listening to your conversation earlier? If the man wasn’t so deadly serious and the air so dense, you would’ve laughed – although you felt that it was probably not the right time to let out a full-throated guffaw to mask an anxiety attack.

“Our own flesh and blood abused his role as a persecutor and bent the rules for his own selfish purposes. Azrael is fortunate if Father ever forgives him, albeit we both know he will. Brother, I know you hold the highest regards for truth and justice, but it was not your place to question an order.”

You could hear the crude man pacing around the room as he spoke. Hoping to stay unnoticed, you sneaked a peek. The first person you landed eyes on was not at all taller than you, and you supposed that was the first man you’d heard. His hair was silvery, almost platinum blonde, styled in a way that evinced his beautiful forehead. The way he carried himself was elegant and graceful, like a ballerina, and his appearance suited his youthful voice perfectly. The second figure to catch your eye, though, was the complete opposite. Tall, lustrous olive skin and brown hair, he was intimidating at first glance. His steps were heavy on the floor, nearly clumsy.

“Perhaps there lies the problem. We are never to question, even whilst we deem fit. Azrael is the embodiment of corruption and amorality; it’s consensual, we are well aware. No matter how devious, he is needed. Casting one of the Seven out ought to never be an option. Be that as it may… There are only five of us within the Gates now. Was I supposed to receive graciously the task of exiling our own brother?”

You were growing considerably annoyed by their choice of words. Why the hell would they be talking like your great-grandparents? All cells in your body were telling you that it was supposed to be cringey, but in reality it was nothing but alluring. Charming. And that’s where all the annoyance came from.

“It is unwise to go against His instructions. Are you a rebel at heart, Prince?” The man stopped his pacing to let the words tumble out of his mouth, venomous. You could tell by Yoongi’s countenance that he was about to lose his composure, and in a way you were yet to see. His body were trembling slightly in fury, and his lips were compressed together in a well-defined line. You were astounded, however, by his eyes. In that moment, you couldn’t move even if you intended to. They were tinted in a deep violet, just like you had seen before at Jin’s encounter, except that, this time, they hadn’t gone back to black.

“This has nothing to do with the Rebellion, Raph-“

“Then why disobey? Do you plan to defy Father as well? It would be entertaining to watch you fight your antithesis for the throne of the underworld,” he chuckled.

It all happened in an instant, but for you it felt like slow motion. Yoongi was convulsing within himself, as if attempting to refrain a great deal of energy from breaking free. Once you saw blood oozing from his closed fists, you knew it was a lost battle. But never, ever, could you have foreseen what came next, what kind of energy – power – exactly he was trying to repress. For a very brief moment, everything stood still. If you had been able to avert your eyes from him, you’d see the silvery-hair figure shudder. You’d see the faint smirk on the lips of the man who caused Yoongi’s outburst, even though he was, deep down, a tad terrified. But you did not have time, nor will-power, to pay attention to anyone but him, ablaze amethysts shooting daggers at the man before them.

Then everything came crashing down. Your beliefs, the world as you knew it, it was all taken away ruthless and abruptly once you saw white feathers rip through black shirt. You gasped audibly, falling to the floor with a dull thud as the knife clinked at your feet. None of them noticed, too entranced by the interaction that unrevealed itself. Yoongi got to his prey at an unhuman speed, grabbing him by the throat and caging him against the door. The horrid sound was enough to make you wince through your stupor, and, if it were anybody else, their skull would have cracked. The man, however, only clenched his jaw to suppress a whimper.

“How dare you speak ill of your Leader like this?” as his voice went down a few octaves, Yoongi’s hold tightened visibly. The man-child seemed as ready to meddle as he would ever be, though still too frightened to actually move. “How dare you, brother, mention the Chief of the Heavenlies in the same breath as his nemesis? Mere one hundred and fifty years, Raphael, and you already built the temerity of being impertinent towards me? Or have you simply forgotten who I am?” his wings were whooshing, as if he was preparing to – quite literally – take flight at any given moment. They were stupendous, bigger than he himself, and so snowy-white, so untainted. Truly immaculate, contrasting with his raven hair.

His angelic features, albeit glorious, could never outstand the magisterial way to which he spoke, imposing authority. Like he was born for it. Everything about him in that moment urged you to bow before his feet, and you weren’t even the one holding his darkened glare. It was entirely alien to you, a facet of him you could barely conceive, let alone process. Raphael undoubtedly recoiled at his words, but tried to conceal it.

“Then show me. Do your title justice and lead us to victory, as I know there is no wrath nor passion greater than yours. Not for a moment have I forgotten who you are, Flaming Warrior, but you certainly have.” Raphael spoke, and it fell to the ears like a prayer.

As Yoongi’s wings retracted once again, you breathed what seemed to be the first intake of air in hours. He slackened his grip on Raphael’s throat, who then bent over in a fit of coughing. The boyish man’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and he let out a sigh. Of course, the little truce was bound to be broken the minute one of them laid eyes on you. It happened to be the blonde.

“Michael, there is a human on your floor,” he whispered, resembling a kid more than ever with his eyes wide open. “Why is there a human on your floor?” he snapped his head, shooting the question directly to Yoongi’s face, and you saw his body stiffen. “Oh, Father! She’s heard our names! Brother…”

“Silent,” his voice was gruff, and he turned to scrutinize your figure. You weren’t sure of how you looked from the view of an outsider, but you felt… Shock, maybe? Fright? You didn’t know who and what was in front of you, and all you could think was how come his eyes are pitch black now?

“Yoongi, we violated the law,” the man you now identified as Raphael said.

“Namjoon,” his eyes never left you as he spoke, “take our brother home and certify yourself that he does not mention today’s events within the Gates.”

“B-But the protocol-“

“Does not apply to her, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi cut him off, “If you still need me to fight by your side, that is.”

He seemed appalled by the perspective of that being an option. “Needless to say, brother, of course we do!”

“That means I am in charge, then. So, at your superior’s orders, will you be able to keep this to yourself?” Yoongi craned his neck to glance at them through his peripheral vision.

“If it is what you want, brother,” he mumbled, averting his gaze to the floor in respect.

“Well, that being the case, I fear we might have to end this dreadful visit already. Notify our soldiers that I am to be expected soon.”

“Yes, sir,” Raphael responded with a worried frown tainting his beautiful face. He touched the cherubic-like man on the shoulder and they both left the apartment.

Yoongi’s feet were glued to the floor, the same spot he’d been standing since landing eyes on you. Your breathing was labored and hitched; your throat so dry that it felt like sandpaper. He took a little step forward, slowly stretching one hand in your direction. You let out a low whimper, recoiling until you were almost balled up, knees pressed tight against your chest. He immediately withdrew his arm and flinched.

“I told you to stay in the bedroom.” His voice was flat, it wasn’t a scold.

“W-What- What the hell just-“ a sob broke through your throat, and only then did you notice hot tears striking your cheeks. “Y-Yoongi,” you weren’t sure of what to say, let alone if you were actually able to choke a whole sentence out.

“Are you afraid?”

Yes.

Fuck, yes.

Were you afraid of him, though? Granted, his whole countenance while exerting power over someone else sent chills through down your spine. But that was not the man standing before you now, no.

“Who are you?” you asked, trying too hard to keep a clear head.

He straightened his back. “My true name is Michael,” he muttered.

“You know that’s not what I asked,” you objected.

“Yes,” he sighed, “I know. Can you keep an open mind?”

“An open mind?” you scoffed. “I’m here, aren’t I? After seeing a pair of wings growing out of your shoulder blades.”

“You are,” he chuckled humorlessly. He then walked tentatively in your direction, sitting on the floor as well when he deemed close enough. “I’m one of the Seven.”

Your face twisted in confusion. Your brain was trying to deny what your subconscious already knew. “Go on.”

“My brothers and I… we are one of Father’s first creations. Have you ever heard of the seven archangels, George?”

“Yeah,” your voice was nearly inaudible.

“It’s easier for you to understand, then. We are responsible for maintaining harmony in Heaven. That, occasionally, includes keeping things in order between the Gates and Earth,” he paused, searching for anything in your face that would require him to stop. “I am… let’s say, of great importance to keep the balance between our worlds, including the nether regions. You might have already gathered that I’m their leader, so to speak. I am in charge of all heavenly troupes, every single one of Father’s soldiers is under my command, as well as I am under His. In times of war, I am indispensable. That’s why they call me Warrior Prince; amongst other things.”

“So it’s… all real?” your voice almost cracked. “Hell, heaven… God?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Then why are you here?” you murmured under your breath and his expression darkened.

“Immortality can make you petty. Do you remember meeting Azrael? I guess you know him as Jin. Azrael is… unique. Known as the Persecutor, he was the first reaper to ever exist – created before I was, even. He harvests human souls in due time and delivers them to a realm that suits them best. Paradise, Purgatory or Hell. My brother can be misunderstood very easily; his job has brought to the surface a sadistic persona. We all deal with evil from time to time, it was born in our home, but… Azrael is death, it’s a heavy burden to carry. Infinite lifetimes dealing with the worst sentiments a human can ever experience is bound to leave some scars. He can be mischievous and quite a pain in the ass, to be honest,” he huffed, “but his loyalty is admirable. So, when he made an egocentric mistake, Father reunited us all to discuss the best course of action. Much like a trial, if you will. The point is: they banished him to live amongst his… victims for a certain period of time. I could never agree to that, I believe every single one of the Seven serves a purpose, we are all needed to maintain natural balance.”

“So you rebelled?”

“No,” he scowled. “I’m not a rebel, I’m… a nonconformist.”

“It’s the same thing.”

“Not for us, it’s not.”

“Okay. Then what happened?”

“It’s a long story, if you want me to explain it correctly.”

“I do. And you’re everlasting, so I bet we have some time to spare.”

“Right,” he snorted. “My people is a bit traumatized when it comes to defiance, you probably know why.”

“Because of the devil, right?”

“Lucifer deeply despises all of his nicknames. But yeah, he’s the reason. A very long time ago, Father decided to expand our family. My brothers and I were content, but when He presented the idea of more… more of us, more love, we agreed on the spot. See, He was never, ever, the tyrant your kind makes him to be. Until Lucifer, that is. He was… exquisite, my brother. From his birth, each and every angel to exist used to say that Father got inspired by me when creating him, but in a very distinctive way. As much as possible, we were the flip side of each other, although extremely similar still, if that makes sense. With time, our bond grew stronger; we became inseparable. Almost everything we did was in each other’s company: from training in the fields to reading manuscripts under the sunlight. My brothers and I didn’t have much to worry about, it was a very peaceful existence. We had not come to know sin yet.

Needless to say, it did not last. Because we were oddly alike and yet so different, comparisons were nearly inevitable. I didn’t mind them back then, so I thought he would never take it to the heart either. I was wrong. Lucifer distanced himself slowly but surely, and with each passing day, he tried harder to triumph over me in a childish competition, one that existed strictly in his head. He’d become resentful, and his animosity soon spread like wildfire towards the others, too. None of us were able to comprehend a feeling we had never experienced ourselves, so it took us years to make sense of the situation. By the time we did… I guess it was already too late.

When Father created your kind, the hierarchy became even more apparent: only us, the archangels, were allowed to interact with humans – even so, only to a certain degree and always serving a purpose. Father wished your… species to stay untouched by our graces. Masterpieces, as long as kept apart, he had said. You see, your people got it terribly wrong. Lucifer was never jealous of humans – in fact, he holds deep contempt for them. He was jealous of us, of me, because my new responsibilities evinced that we had different roles on the chain of command. If rancor was his first sin, fury came to be the second. He endeavored to make a point of how unfair it was of Father to ‘play favorites’ and provide the Seven with greater might. My brother was a very shrewd, intelligent being, but his envy made him blind to a lot of things.

Lucifer used the following years to spread his beliefs right under our noses, and therefore was able to gather a herd of angels who succumbed to blatant lies just as much as he did. That was the beginning of the rebellion. His ability to lead was remarkable, but he could never be a true leader – not that he intended to, anyway. The reason is pretty obvious: my brother did not care the least about those under his directions, they were means to an end. His main goal was to dethrone the Seven, and for that he forged a deadly weapon: the flaming sword. The uprising initiated a war that none of us were ready for, not even him. For seven days, we fought. For seven days, we continuously killed our own. I suppose you already know the end to that story.”

You were so fascinated by his narrative that you’d already forgotten the reason he brought up the subject.

“I think so,” you said. “The real thing is actually so… different from everything I’ve ever heard.”

“I know. Tales never accomplish the whole truth.”

“But what does that have to do with the reason you’re here?”

“Like I said, my kind does not tolerate defiance after everything that happened. When Azrael was sentenced, I didn’t exactly make an effort to hide how I felt about it. They didn’t take it very well, so if you ask any of them why I was exiled, they’ll say it was for disobedience. When, in fact, it was because I reminded them too much of him,” he sighed, and you both fall into a pregnant pause. “How are you taking this?”

“I’m not sure. I guess I just didn’t have enough time to process yet.”

“I know,” he twisted a strand of your hair in his slender index finger.

All of a sudden, a realization fell heavy on your heart.

“Is your time up?”

His brows knitted themselves together. “My time?”

“Yeah. You said you’d stay here… for a predetermined amount of time. Is that why they came to get you?”

“No, George,” he let out a puff of air from his nose, “that’s not why they came for me.”

“Then why?”

“Think about it. Why would they need their General for?”

You shook your head, trying to make sense of what he was telling you. Oh.

“You said you were indispensable in times of…” your whisper faded to an end.

“War,” he completed.

||\\

“While they adore me on the throne of hell,

With diadem and sceptre high advanced

The lower still I fall, only supreme

In misery; such joy ambition finds.

But say I could repent and could obtain

By act of grace my former state; how soon

Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay

What feigned submission swore: ease would recant

Vows made in pain, as violent and void

For never can true reconcilement grow

Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep:

Which would lead me to a worse relapse

And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear

Short intermission bought with double smart.”

There was a thin layer of snow covering the streets once again. The friction between the tires and the asphalt was barely there, and if the circumstances were different, that would be your main concern. The wind howled as you cut through it like bullets, and you tightened your embrace around his waist, somehow enjoying the numbing air of a cold late-afternoon. Eyes wide opened this time. When he finally parked in front of the porch, you quickly hopped down and took the helmet off, placing it in the seat you had previously taken. Before you could say or do anything, Yoongi seized your wrist with a leather-gloved hand.

“I’m positively opposed to this,” he blurted in a last attempt to change your mind.

“I know.” You tried to free yourself from his iron grasp, but to no avail. It was getting easier to read his features, and you could tell he was still unsure. But you were not. “Yoongi, it’s my call.”

“Don’t I have a say in it?”

“Ultimately… no.”

“Want you to be safe, that’s all. Let us be reasonable about this, why don’t you?”

“I thought you understood better than anyone that I don’t get to be reasonable about this,” you sighed with impatience. “Please, I—”

“Okay,” he loosened his grip. “I’ll wait here.”

“Okay.”

The light was off in the living room, your mother wasn’t home yet. You told yourself that it was better this way. Making a beeline to the stairs, you went over the little list in your head once again before entering your bedroom.

Set of clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste, laptop… What else?

You looked around, the baby-blue walls somehow mocking you, an excruciating reminder of simpler times. Memories of your childhood swirled inside your mind. All the times you and Taehyung would play hide and seek, the squeals he’d let out whenever you caught him off guard, how he was certainly faster than you, but would let you win a childish race every now and then. The familiar scent of caramel and coffee roaming around the house in the wee small hours of the morning after movie nights, your mom’s chocolate chip pancakes for lunch on Sundays. It all felt like a lifetime ago.

Hauling your backpack across your shoulder, you had a weird feeling that that was it. That was goodbye. Although Yoongi had promised you’d be back safe and sound in a couple of days, you knew things could go wrong. It was a pondered decision; you were aware of the risks, he’d made sure of it. Still, leaving his side when there was a real possibility that he might not get out alive was just… not conceivable. Logically, you understood that, if things went south, you would not be able to do much. You did not care much for logic these days, anyway.

[Cheers Darlin’, by Damien Rice]

Stepping out of the room and shutting the door as quietly as possible—for no apparent reason—you hopped downstairs two steps at a time, making sure to avoid staring at other parts of the house that could trigger another episode of nostalgia. Too focused on the task of trying not to focus, you missed the six feet tall barricade blocking the entrance to the living room, crashing into it face-first. If it wasn’t for the unrelenting grip keeping you in place, you would’ve certainly hit the floor.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the flat baritone voice resonated throughout the empty space.

Of course. You closed your eyes tightly, taking a deep breath before even contemplating lifting your head to make eye contact.

“Do you need something?” in a poor attempt to shield yourself, you parroted his dead intonation.

“Do I need something,” he hummed. Then he chuckled, fists clenching around your forearms. “Are you leaving?” he spat. “What about your mom, huh?”

“It’s just a couple of days. I’ll call her.”

By the scowl plastered on his face, your dismissive attitude hadn’t worked the way you planned it to. You had to do this quick, like ripping off a bandage. If anyone could give you a run for your money in this situation, that would be Taehyung. You knew he’d try to persuade you into staying, so you couldn’t risk it. For both your sakes.

“I see,” he remarked. “Were you planning to tell me you’re running off with your boyfriend or you’d just leave me to figure it out on my own?”

His venomous words burned out of his mouth at lightning speed, tainting his tongue with a pungent aftertaste.

“You know I would never do something like that,” the hurt that laced your voice was evident, but, maybe for the first time, it didn’t make him feel half as bad as it should.

“Do I?” he scoffed. “For the past few months, it feels like you’ve already left. Wouldn’t make much of a difference if you actually did, I guess.”

That did it. You felt tears well up in your eyes, but you were determined to not let them fall.

“Okay, I’m not doing this,” you whispered, not trusting your voice enough to speak properly, and pulled your arms out of his grasp roughly. You darted for the closed front door, feeling sick to your stomach at the thought of spending another minute inside the house. He clutched your shirt tightly, as if it was a lifeboat.

“Wait,” his fists clenched tighter. You could sense him getting closer, but you didn’t have the guts to turn around and face him just yet. He buried his face on your right shoulder, holding your hip now, nails bound to leave little crescent moons on your skin. “M’sorry,” he mumbled. “I hate this.”

Your heart ached. You hated it, too. Pushing Taehyung away was never your intention, but you finally came to understand all the times Yoongi had kept a safe distance before. To keep you safe. You couldn’t risk it, not with Marzipan.

“It’s fine, Tae.”

“It’s not,” he shook his head, brushing his nose on the fabric of your blouse. Inhaling deeply, he moved to the nape of your neck. You shuddered. “None of this is fine,” a peck on the bare skin of your neck, and your entire body tensed.

“Taehyung…” you warned.

“Don’t,” he begged, turning you around. You were adamant on avoiding his gaze, so your eyes kept darting between your feet and your hands. “Don’t go.”

While he rested his forehead on yours, one hand on your cheek and the other thumbing your collarbone, you knew what was about to happen. You knew, and, still, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. You knew, but it was Taehyung, your best friend. Marzipan, the little boy from the house next door. Boxy smile, disheveled hair, sweet-toothed Taehyung. How wrong could it be? You were saying goodbye to a part of your own soul. How wrong could it be?

When his lips touched yours, soft and ravenous, you really wanted it to feel right. But the answer to your previous question was: too wrong. You loved him, yes. But he wasn’t him. Didn’t taste the same, didn’t feel the same. His movements weren’t slow yet demanding, his hand wasn’t drawing invisible patterns on your lower back, his smell wasn’t musky enough. It just didn’t feel right.

“Tae,” you tried to end the kiss, but he led his mouth back to yours like in a trance, nibling on your lower lip. “Taehyung, stop!”

By the end of it, you were both panting. It dawned you how big of a mistake you had just made, and guilt made you nauseous. Neither of them deserved what you’d just done, neither of them deserved to have their hearts broken because you were such a fuck up.

“I-I’m so sorry, Tae,” your voice cracked. He was about to answer, but you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t breathe, your skin was on fire and there was a big, nasty lump in your throat. You bolted out the door, only to be met with Yoongi’s inquiring gaze. It seemed to have broken a damn, and heavy tears tumbled down your cheeks. He rushed to meet you halfway, brushing the tears away as soon as his hands reached your face.

“Hey,” he shushed you. “What happened, baby?”

“Can we go home, please?”

The crease between his furrowed eyebrows deepened, but still, he chose not to pry any further.

“Of course, love. Of course we can,” he softly muttered, although still hesitant to take his hands off you.

You climbed onto the familiar grey motorcycle and hid your damped cheeks on his jacket. The beast rumbled, gaining speed as you cut through the air. The ghost of Taehyung’s lips on yours haunting you the entire way back.

139 notes · View notes

official-weasley · 3 years

Text

Double the Joy - (The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley AU)

Warnings: scolding a child, fluffy family stuff

Word count: 4,585

Characters: Charlie Weasley and my OC Nova from TICW which you can find here

A/N: I still suck at writing baby talk so I am expecting an army of toddlers to get me soon! 🙈

Nova

“Alright, so then we place this one here...”

Charlie was sitting on the floor with Aoede and they were doing a puzzle together. It was gifted to her by Arthur when she turned 3 but she didn't show any interest in it until this morning when she found it in her room and the second she showed it to us Charlie had to promise her that they will complete it after lunch.

The puzzle is of a dinosaur mum and her newly hatched baby. I found it amusing but not at all surprising because Arthur loved Muggle things and for some reason, Aoede was more than intrigued by them too.

Charlie, on the other hand, wasn't very pleased that Aoede was more excited about some giant Muggle chickens that don't even exist any more than dragons but once they had the frame down, he got into it.

“Dad, we need another piece hele!” Aoede pointed her tiny finger to where she noticed a piece was missing and they both started to search for it on the big pile they set up together to easily find the right puzzle piece.

I was half laying on the sofa, sipping on my tea and observing them bonding. It was better than Tom and Jerry or any other show or cartoon. Every time they were doing something together I took my time to just stare and admire them. Aoede might be a miniature me but in so many hidden ways she was just like Charlie and I loved to figure those things out and later point them out to him because it meant so much to him to know that she caught some of his genes as well, besides his red hair.

One of the first things I noticed was the way she gets angry – it's all of a sudden and she gives it her all – and Charlie is the same. They both don't know how to handle their temper. With Charlie, I got used to it. With Aoede, it's adorable – for now.

It's also how she frowns and presses her lips together when she is mad. Charlie does the same expression and since she copies so many things after me, I think she got that one from Charlie – probably when he comes home mad when one of the dragons was disobedient and his interns didn't know how to handle it properly.

It shows the most, however, when they cook together. The way they both concentrate when they are measuring things or how they mix the ingredients in the pot. Aoede bends over when she searches for something in the fridge the same way Charlie does and she tends to lower her voice while baking for some reason and I didn't notice that Charlie does the same until last week when he had a sudden inspiration to make banana bread.

Being more than 8 months pregnant, I couldn't do much. Unlike the morning sickness when I was pregnant with Aoede, I feel constantly tired with this one so I am mostly resting and taking every opportunity I can to nap.

At first, it bothered me because I felt so useless, and seeing Charlie being so busy with cleaning and cooking while still going to work and playing with Aoede, I felt like I am not contributing much. The second I expressed my concern, Charlie was quick to calm me down saying that being pregnant and granting his wish to have another baby was contributing enough.

As always, I tried protesting for a few days and even cooked a few meals and bathed Aoede a few times – despite that being one of Charlie's favorite things to do because they splash each other and flood the bathroom. At first, Charlie just glared at me and said nothing, knowing full well that I was stubborn enough to try my best. But the second he saw that it was draining me and that I started sleeping more and more he made me stop and I finally gave in.

Now, I love my quality time on the sofa because I usually have the honor of watching Charlie play with Aoede and it's just the most beautiful sight of how much he loves to spend time with her and how much fun Aoede is having when she has daddy's full attention.

“Okay, we did that part, now to the tail...” Charlie started searching for puzzle pieces again, while Aoede came to me, gave me a gentle squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.

She did that every time she thought that she was spending too much time with her dad and was making me jealous. Every fifteen minutes or so she would pause whatever she was doing and take the opportunity to come and show me that she loves me too.

A knock on the door disturbed our precious little moment and I started to get up.

“I'll get it, love, no need to get up.” Charlie lifted his hand at me to stop me.

“No, no. You two are busy. Let me go, I have to stretch my legs a little anyway.” I smiled at him and he bestowed me with an appreciative smile back, clearly having the best time with his daughter.

I slowly made my way to the hallway and opened the door.

“Good evening!” Bill grinned the second he saw me, his eyes moving from mine to my belly, before pulling me in a hug.

“Oh, my, you are getting big! I can't believe less than a month to go!” Fleur exclaimed and embraced me too.

“Aoede, your godparents are here!” I shouted toward the living room.

“Sorry, dad, I have to go.” I heard Aoede whisper to Charlie before she started running toward us.

“Uncle Bill, uncle Bill, uncle Bill, uncle Bill!” Aoede crashed into Bill with such force that she almost knocked them both over.

“Look at you!” Bill took her in his arms. “Since when are you so big?”

“Uncle Bill, you saw me less than a month ago!” Aoede giggled.

“I know, but still. You must've grown for a full head!” Bill exaggerated.

“Nuh-uh! Tell him, auntie Fleul, he is lying!” Aoede leaned closer to Fleur to hug her too before returning to pay her full attention to Bill's ponytail failing to make it into a braid.

“'e's right! You 'ave grown!” Fleur tickled Aoede's belly, loving how easily entertained she was.

“Look, uncle Bill, auntie Fleul! Daddy and I ale making a puzzle!” Aoede grabbed both of her god parent's hands and rushed them to the living room the second Bill put her down.

“Dinosaurs,” Bill sniggered, “let me guess, a gift from grandpa Artie?”

“Yes!” Aoede lifted her hands excitedly in the air.

“I can see Charlie iz very 'appy about dinosaurs.” Fleur pressed her lips together not to laugh as she sat next to me on the sofa while Bill joined Charlie and Aoede to finish the puzzle.

“So, 'ow are you?” Fleur put her hand on my knee, her eyes that were glued to my belly were sparkling.

“I am about the same. Still very tired but it's almost over.” I sighed and smiled at her.

“You are doing great and it will be worth it once you zee your new baby.” She exclaimed.

I narrowed my eyes at her – she was hiding something. Bill and Fleur were married for 2 years now and we have become really good friends and it's been nice to not be the only girl to marry into the Weasley family. They visit us often, especially now that the dark times are behind us and Aoede expresses that she misses her favorite aunt and uncle.

Only Charlie, Bill, Fleur, and I know that Aoede loves them the most and promised that we won't tell anyone else in the family no to crush their hearts as they all fought to be the favorite of their only niece.

Since we see each other more often, I had the chance to get to know Fleur better which meant I learned when she was hiding something. She has been very supportive ever since we told them and the family that we are pregnant again and even offered for Aoede to stay with them for a week at Shell Cottage so Charlie and I could get a breather and be properly excited about the expecting bundle of joy.

I was used to her asking me how I am and how I am dealing with everything and she even expressed a wish that she wishes to be a mum herself. But her grinning and having sparks in her eyes was something new – as if she couldn't wait to share something with me.

“You are on to me, aren't you?” She giggled as I didn't stop reading her face.

I only hummed in response before looking at Bill who's head was tilted, observing Aoede completing the puzzle with the same sparks in his eyes. I pursed my lips, going full detective mode on this.

“Will you say it on your own or should I just guess?” I smirked, locking eyes with Fleur.

“Guess what?” Charlie looked at us and I wiggled my eyebrows at him.

“William, Nova knows.” Fleur pretended to be disappointed.

“Knows what?” Charlie asked confused.

“How did you know? She isn't showing yet.” Bill furrowed his brows.

“Not showing yet?” Charlie's eyes were jumping from Bill to Fleur to me and back.

“Oh, I don't know, perhaps all the sparks in your eyes.” I giggled and pointed at both of them, leaving poor Charlie confused.

“I told you she will figure us out!” Fleur's cheeks turned slightly pink.

“Okay, somebody has to fill me in!” Charlie didn't look amused at all.

“As I said – will you tell us on your own or should I make a guess?” I cocked an eyebrow at them, giving them one last chance.

“Somebody please just say it.” Charlie ran a hand across his face, looking completely done.

“Let Charlie guess!” Bill laughed, pointing at his brother.

“But –” Charlie frowned at him before giving it some thought.

“So, Nova already knows and it involves both of you and it has to do with sparkling eyes and Fleur not showing something yet.” Charlie had his eyes narrowed, scratching the stubble on his cheek.

Bill, Fleur, and I were watching him solve this mystery, hardly keeping it together. Bill pretended to help Aoede with the puzzle while Fleur and I avoided eye contact not to start laughing. After about 30 seconds of Charlie's gaze switching between his brother and his sister-in-law, his eyes widened in realization.

“Fleur, you're pregnant!” Charlie put his hands over his mouth as Fleur nodded excitedly.

“Not you too!” Before either Charlie and I had a chance to congratulate them Aoede decided to share her opinion on the matter.

“Aoede, you should hug Bill and Fleur and be excited with them,” I said gently and got bestowed with a frown from my daughter.

“Yeah, don't you want a cousin to play with?” Charlie added.

“No!” Aoede stood up, shaking her head. “Couldn't you do this soonel so mum didn't have to get anothel baby?”

Bill and Fleur stared at her with their mouth open. They heard and knew about Aoede not agreeing with mine and Charlie's choice to have another child but they have never witnessed it until now.

“Aoede, that's enough!” Charlie said with a warning voice.

Aoede, who had her mouth slightly opened – ready to say something else – turned to her dad, frowned some more then sat back down in front of her puzzle pretending to search for a piece even though the puzzle was completed and sniffed so silently that I almost didn't catch it.

Bill and Fleur silently exchanged a look while I glared at Charlie who has never risen his voice at Aoede before and even though we couldn't enjoy and celebrate this pregnancy as we did with the first one due to Aoede always having something to say about it, we agreed to be patient with her in the hopes that she would come around.

“Uhm, I need some fresh air,” Bill cleared his throat, “don't you need some fresh air too, Charles?”

Bill nudged his brother and they both stood up. I smiled appreciatively at him and mouthed congratulations not saying it out loud not to get another negative reaction from Aoede.

When they closed the door leading to the back porch behind them, Fleur and I joined Aoede on the floor.

“Sweetheart...”

“Not now, mum. I am busy.” Aoede pretended to sigh, thinking she could hide that she was sobbing.

“Can we 'elp you?” Fleur tilted her head, hoping Aoede would look at her.

“No,” Aoede shook her head, “no, thank you, auntie Fleul.” She tried mustering a smile but failed and instead of her lips curving, she shed another tear.

“Aoede...” I searched for anything to say to her.

It was breaking my heart seeing her this way, trying to hold in the tears and pretending that Charlie's warning voice didn't hurt her.

“Shh, mum. I'm playing.” Aoede lifted her hand at me to stop me from saying anything else.

“Let's give 'er some space,” Fleur whispered to me and stood up.

I was observing my daughter for a moment or so more before Fleur nudged me with her foot to join her.

Charlie

“That was something,” Bill said after we were sitting on the bench in silence for a moment.

“Yeah. I don't know what got over me. I never raised my voice at her before.” I shook my head.

I was ashamed of myself – it was wrong and I should've handled the situation better.

“Yeah, it was evident that this never happened before,” Bill said gently.

“Nova and I promised to each other that we won't talk about the pregnancy in front of her and I guess it just got to me. We were so excited to have another baby and you know I want a bigger family and I just wish Aoede would share that excitement with us.” I pressed my fingers into my eyes.

“She'll come around. I was even younger when dad told me mum was pregnant with you and I was in complete shock trying to convince them that they were wrong.” Bill laughed.

“Wait what?” I asked, incredulously. “You never told me this before.”

“Yeah, I was mad and did not want you at all and now look at us. I can't imagine my life without you.” Bill put an arm around my shoulders and ruffled my hair.

“But you were always so nice and took care of me.”

“Yeah, you and your cute freckles grew on me.” He winked at me.

“How long did you need to warm up to me?” I wanted to know.

“You would have to ask mum that. I only remember that I threw a tantrum when I had to stay with aunt Muriel when you were being born. Don't you remember how angry you were when mum was pregnant with Percy? You were about Aoede's age.” Bill giggled.

“I do not remember that at all,” I answered honestly.

“We were both mad. I liked the idea of just being the two of us and when our parents told us that they will have another baby they ruined that fantasy and I remember we made a pact about not liking the baby.” Bill was clapping his hand against his knee, laughing so much.

“So we should expect the alliance between Aoede and our second-born when we'll have the third one?” I playfully shook my head.

“Yeah, get ready for that.” Bill gasped for air.

“Thank you for telling me this, Bill. I feel more hopeful that Aoede will come around but even worse about shouting at her.” I bowed my head.

“You're welcome and you'll apologize to her.”

“Mhm,” I mumbled, looking up at the starry sky.

“So you still don't know the gender of the baby?” He asked after us being silent for a few minutes.

“Nope. We loved the surprise when the doctor told us Aoede is a girl and we want to do the same this time around.” I grinned.

“I don't think we'll be able to do it.” Bill rubbed his chin. “We're just so excited, you know!”

“Oh, now I can finally say congratulations!” I embraced my brother. “I can't believe I'm going to be a dad again within a month and an uncle in...”

“About 8 months.” Bill finished my sentence. “And thank you. Fleur isn't even a month in so you are the only ones who know for now.”

“Understandable.” I nodded.

“So,” Bill nudged me with his elbow, “any fatherly wisdom to share?”

“I can't believe there is something I can lecture you about and not the other way around.” I chuckled.

“Yeah, you beat me to it.” Bill joined me.

“Well, up until the moment you witnessed inside before, I reckon we have been pretty great with our daughter. Treat your child as an adult and talk to them and pay them attention and value their opinion as much as you can. Children are smarter than we give them credit for and always listen to what they like and try making them happy with those things.” I pursed my lips, trying to think of more things.

“How about the pregnancy? Is it normal to feel left out?”

“Oh, yeah. I felt terrible when Nova had morning sickness and I couldn't do anything about it.” I sighed. “But I have learned that just being there for her and encourage her and tell her she is doing great goes a long way.” I grinned.

“Right.” Bill was focused, taking every word I said in.

“Also, try and do as much as you can around the house and for her so she can have a proper rest.”

“Of course.”

“Oh, and massage her feet every time you remember. I know Nova would kill for a foot massage especially in the final months when their feet get really swollen.” I explained.

“Got it.” Bill nodded.

“Other than that just be excited and celebrate every moment. Honestly, we were obsessed with Aoede before she was even born.” I giggled. “You mean how you told her stories and sang to her while she was still in Nova's belly?” Bill sniggered.

“How do you know about that?” I felt the heat on my cheeks.

“Nova wrote me about it.” He winked at me.

“Well, it's sweet and you'll turn all mushy too once you become a dad.” I lifted my chin, proudly.

“I have no doubt about that. I can't wait.” Bill couldn't hide the excitement in his voice.

“You're going to be a great dad.” I patted him on the back.

“If I'm half a father you are, I'll be proud of myself.” He smiled at me and I couldn't help but return it – that compliment meant a lot to me.

Bill was always better in most things we did and he always beat me in everything. But I guess when it comes to being married and having children, I was more experienced and it felt nice to give him advice instead of receiving it for a change.

“Speaking of being a good father...” I cleared my throat and looked at the door.

“Go, go talk to your little girl.” Bill encouraged me and we stood up.

Nova

“She obviously wanted to be alone,” Fleur said in a low voice when we sat down at the kitchen table, my eyes still on Aoede.

“I know but – “ I pressed my lips together.

I knew that if I would say another word my voice would break and I would start to cry – my hormones were getting the best of me. We found the whole thing about Aoede not wanting a sibling funny and we knew that sooner or later she would warm up to the baby but now that I saw how hurt she was when Charlie stopped her from sharing her opinion with us, I realized how serious this was for her.

“Waz zis ze first time Charlie raised 'is voice at 'er?” Fleur put her hand over mine.

“Yes.” I nodded and finally turned to her.

“It must've shocked 'er,” Fleur said understandingly. “Mhm.” I hummed not really knowing what to say.

“Are you okay? I can zee zis is eating you alive,” Fleur said with concern in her voice.

“I have no memories of how I was when I was her age and being an only child I never had to deal with such information and it pains me that I can't relate to her or help her get through this.” I brushed the tear that ran down my cheek away.

“I 'ad no idea she iz zo against it.” Fleur was a bit shocked.

“Yeah, it came to a point where Charlie and I started to question if we made a mistake getting pregnant again.” I sighed, remembering all the moments when Aoede got mad when we discussed anything about the pregnancy.

“But you want a bigger family.” Fleur tried cheering me up.

“That's true but the first time around, we celebrated – just me and Charlie. This time we wanted Aoede to join us and share this happy moment with us and she is just not having it and how are we supposed to be excited about it when our daughter is completely miserable over it?”

“She will come around, trust me. I waz ze same.” Fleur chuckled.

“You were?” I brushed another tear away before looking at her.

“Of course! I zink all children are. When my parents told me about being pregnant with Gabrielle I wanted to run away from 'ome!” Fleur laughed, reminiscing on the memory.

“And when did you come around?” I sniffed, a bit cheered up.

“When zey brought 'er from ze 'ospital. When I saw 'er and saw that my parents wanted to include me and still loved me ze same, I calmed down and in a few weeks I was prepared to die for 'er.” Fleur sent me a smile.

“I hope she will be the same.” I looked back at Aoede, who was still sitting in the same position.

“Trust me, you 'ave nothing to worry about. You celebrate your second baby without worry.” Fleur stood up and hugged me tightly – as tightly as my big belly allowed her.

“Thank you, Fleur. Your words really eased my mind.” I murmured.

“Any time.” Fleur smiled and sat back down.

“And congratulations. I am so happy for you two.” I tried to sound excited and whisper at the same time, not wanting to upset Aoede again.

“Zank you! We couldn't be 'appier!” Fleur clapped her hands together.

“How far along are you?” I wanted to know.

“About three weeks. We are not telling anyone else yet but we wanted to tell you.” Fleur was shaking from excitement.

“Oh, our babies are going to be so close in age!” I jumped in my seat.

“I know! I never thought we are going to be pregnant togezer!” Fleur grinned. “Any tips?”

“Well, be prepared for the morning sickness which kicks in at about six weeks, and try to not overwork yourself even though you feel very energetic. Listen to your body even if it has weird food combinations in mind for you to try,” I giggled, “and ask Bill to often massage your feet. That feels so good when they get all swollen.”

“Oh, I can believe that!” Fleur chuckled.

“Other than that, listen to what your doctor says and advises you and try not to think about it too much and with that I mean just try and continue your daily life as much as you can. I went to work until my 5th month and I would continue to go if Charlie wouldn't protest so much.” I playfully rolled my eyes.

“Do you think Bill will be ze same?” She laughed.

“Oh, yes, most definitely! Be prepared for that!” I joined her.

After our giggles quieted down, I looked at Aoede again.

“I will try talking to her again,” I said to Fleur and stood up.

Right when I reached her, Charlie returned with Bill.

“Love, let me handle this.” He whispered to me, avoiding my eyes.

“No, I can do it.”

“Please, I feel bad. Let me fix my mistake.” Charlie pleaded. “I shouldn't have reacted as I did and I want to apologize to you too. We promised we will give her time and I snapped.”

“Okay.” I smiled at him and kissed him on the lips.

I watched him sit down next to Aoede and then joined Bill on the sofa, who welcomed me with his arms wide open.

Charlie

“Pumpkin, can I sit next to you?” I asked Aoede with a gentle voice.

“Yes,” Aoede replied, her head bowed down, looking at the puzzle.

“Do you have the time to talk?”

“Mhm.” She mumbled.

“Daddy wants to apologize for how he talked to you earlier. I was wrong and I am sorry.” I wanted to hug her so badly but I knew we weren't there yet.

“It's okay dad, I undelstand,” Aoede said with her cute voice.

“It's not okay,” I shook my head, “I shouldn't have lost my temper with you.”

“But you love the baby.” Aoede finally looked up at me, her red and puffy eyes broke my heart.

“I do, Pumpkin, but that doesn't mean I love you any less.” I dared to move a bit closer to her.

“I just don't want anything to change,” Aoede sighed, “I like that it's just you, me, and mum.”

“I know, Pumpkin but as mum and I told you before, nothing will change. We will still love you the same, treat you the same, give you the attention and play with you.” I ruffled her soft hair.

“You plomise?” Aoede bestowed me with the sweetest puppy eyes that I have ever gotten.

“I swear on my job.” I crossed my heart and smiled at her.

“But,” Aoede gasped loudly, “daddy, you love youl job!”

“Exactly, but I love you and mum and the baby more so that's how you know that I am not lying to you.” I gestured for her to sit in my lap and she climbed over my leg.

“Okay,” Aoede took a deep breath, “I will tly and do bettel.”

“Aoede, it's okay. I understand. Your uncle Bill and I were the same when we found out about your uncle Percy. I know how you feel now and I shouldn't have reacted as I did. I should've been more patient with you and give you time.” I frowned, still disappointed in myself.

“Do you and mum want this baby?” Aoede looked up at me.

“As much as you want to see a unicorn.”

“That much?” Aoede stared at me in awe. “But that is a lot!”

“Yes, that much.”

“Okay, daddy. I will tly to want the baby too.” Aoede pushed more into my body and I wrapped my arms tighter around her.

“You will?” I asked surprised, not expecting this outcome at all.

“I will. I sweal on a unicoln.”

I gasped dramatically, knowing how much unicorns mean to her, and made her giggle. As she turned around and looked at me lovingly with her big blue eyes, it warmed my heart knowing that we will be just fine.

#harry potter hogwarts mystery #harry potter fanfiction #hphm charlie #charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #hogwarts mystery mc #the weasleys #hphm fanfiction #hp imagine #charlie weasley x oc #hphm imagine #charlie weasley imagine #harry potter imagine #weasley fanfiction #the burrow

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ukulelecal · 3 years

Text

Bloom - Part Two

The story of flowers.

Pairing: Poet!Luke Hemmings x Female!OC

Warnings: a bit more angst but def more fluff. implied smut. a couple swears probably. hella feelings. mentions of anxiety

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: here is the second part!! less sad than the first!! lol anyways, i hope you guys love it, there will be one more part after this! reminder that feedback and reblogs are sosososo important to creators x

series masterlist

my masterlist // posted on ao3

*One year later*

Devon’s new school wasn’t all that she had imagined it to be.

Her classes were great. She was learning so much and her professors were very encouraging and helpful. Everything else, however, wasn’t so ideal.

She wasn’t fond of her classmates. Perhaps she was just so used to her old school, but everyone rubbed her the wrong way. She had only found a few friends that she trusted, but she didn’t even see them much. They had attended undergrad at that school, and they already knew everyone. Devon couldn’t quite make her way into the friend group.

She wasn’t a fan of the city, either. It simply didn’t have the vibe or the excitement that home did.

Home. She tried not to use that word to describe where she once lived, but her mind continuously went back to it. She knew exactly why.

That’s where Luke was.

Devon hadn’t heard from him since she moved. She left with a very brief goodbye and good luck wish, but that was it. She held back her tears during the Uber ride to the airport and all through the plane ride.

Luke, now alone in the apartment, broke down as soon as she left. He should have been the one taking her to the airport, kissing her goodbye and promising that everything would be okay. But nothing was okay anymore.

It had been a year since Devon moved, and the now broken up couple was doing a lot better. Devon distracted herself with schoolwork and trying to find her place in her new environment. She took up kickboxing as well as a way to let out her emotions, although the muscles she was developing were a plus as well.

Luke still had the same coping mechanism he always had; writing poetry. He poured his heart and soul into countless poems. They were completely raw, completely honest. He held nothing back. Frankly, they were his best work.

Devon’s first year of grad school officially came to an end. It was as if a weight was lifted off her shoulders. She couldn’t say she was happy there, but she wasn’t there to make friends. She was there to get her master’s, and she wasn’t going to quit. For herself and for her family.

A very unexpected text quickly changed any plans that Devon might have had for the summer.

It was from Luke.

“Hey Devon. I know it’s been a while and I hope grad school is going well. But it's official. My first poetry book is getting published. You probably don’t want to hear from me, and I understand, but you were always the person that believed in me the most. Thank you for that. Truly. I wouldn’t be here without you. I’m having a release party in a few weeks. Nothing big, just close friends and family. It would mean a lot to me if you came.”

Her heart skipped a beat as soon as she saw his name flash across her screen. Not a single word had been exchanged between them in the past year. A part of Devon had been wishing that he would reach out, even if it was just to say hi and check in. She almost texted him a few times, but something always stopped her.

Hearing from him after so long brought an array of emotions, but the one that overwhelmed her the most was pride.

Devon knew how much this meant to him. He opened up to her about it on their very first date freshman year. She remembered sitting across from him at the coffee shop on campus, and the way his eyes lit up as he talked about releasing a book. She found his passion admirable, and she had every faith in him that he would succeed. She was his biggest supporter through the years; she was there to comfort him when he got rejected and help him through his bouts of writer’s block. He always told her that she was his biggest inspiration. Most of his poems ended up being about her in some capacity.

Despite everything that happened between, Devon couldn’t fathom missing this momentous time in his life.

With a deep breath, she typed out a reply.

“I would love to come. It means a lot that you thought of me.”

The weeks leading up to the party were utterly nerve wracking, for both Devon and Luke.

It took Luke a few days to work up the courage to invite Devon. He was scared she hated him and wouldn’t care to come, that she would be appalled at him thinking even for a second that she might want to see him again. It took a lot of convincing from Ashton, a college friend that he invited to move into the apartment once Luke realized he couldn’t afford the rent on his own and that he couldn’t stand being in the apartment by himself, but he did it. Luke wasn’t sure he breathed at all in the minutes it took her to respond.

Now that she was officially attending, it left the two to question what seeing each other would be like after a year apart. Would it be awkward? Would they end up having another argument and cause more pain? Would they be unrecognizable to each other?

The uncertainty was painstaking, but Devon reminded herself that she was there to support Luke, and Luke reminded himself that he would have given up a long time ago if it weren’t for Devon.

The time finally came for the release party. They both hardly slept the night before. Luke was alone in the bed that he used to share with the woman he hadn’t seen in a year, while she laid in a hotel bed just blocks away. Things felt different knowing that they weren’t hundreds of miles away anymore, and the next day they would see each other.

Devon pandered around her hotel room all day, doing her best to distract herself. She scrolled through every channel on the television, but nothing kept her attention. She did a workout, but every song on her workout playlist managed to remind her of Luke in some way.

They day dragged on until it was finally time for Devon to get ready. She played calming music in the shower to slow her heart rate and took her time doing her hair and makeup. It took some effort to steady her hands, but she got the job done.

Luke had been able to keep himself busy all day. A couple of his friends, Calum and Michael, shared a flat that was decently bigger than Luke’s apartment, and graciously offered to host the party there. Him and Ashton went over there early to make sure the place was clean and that all the food and drinks were ready.

Once guests started arriving, the nerves came back in full force.

He could only hope that he was really ready to see Devon.

For her, the Uber ride to the address Luke gave her hit every single red light. She bounced her leg in the back seat, unsure if she was thankful for the longer ride or if she hated it. On one hand, it gave her more time to prepare herself. However, every passing second made her nervousness increase.

Time stopped when the car parked in front of the flat.

She stared at it for a moment, the fact that Luke was just inside making her fingers tremble.

She didn’t realize she was still sitting there until the driver asked her if she was okay. She quickly thanked him and climbed out of the car.

Devon slowly made her way up the walkway, reminding herself with each step that this was a huge deal for Luke. His dreams were finally coming true. He had expressed to her that he credited her in part for his success. He must not have harbored any major negative feelings against her, otherwise she wouldn’t have been invited.

She almost felt a sense of calm as she reached the front door.

She slowly pushed it open, Luke having told her it would be unlocked and she could let herself in. Once inside, she didn’t see him right away. She recognized some friends from her undergraduate days, but nobody seemed to notice her right away.

A tall figure came out from the kitchen, and Devon had to do a double take.

Luke had certainly grown in their year apart.

His curls were shorter in the back and longer on top, and it looked like they had been dyed at some point. He opted for a pair of glasses instead of contacts, and he had a beard. She had never seen him with more than some stubble. He had on a forest green sweater that she always said was her favorite; she wondered if he had worn it on purpose. She couldn’t blame him if he did, considering she was wearing the long sleeved, yellow floral dress that Luke always said he loved on her.

He looked completely different, but at the same time, he was still her Luke.

All of her anxieties melted away the second he looked at her.

“Devon.”

It felt so natural. It was as if all of the pain that came from the last time they saw each other had gone away. They both knew in the back of their minds there wasn’t any bad blood between them, as much as their breakup hurt. Neither had exactly done anything wrong.

“You made it,” he continued through a deep breath.

“You know I wouldn’t miss this for the world, Lu.”

Devon looked the same. Her hair was a little longer than the last time he saw her, and he could tell that she had put on some muscle from the way she filled out her dress a little more. She looked good, healthy.

Luke silently thanked whoever was listening that she seemed alright, at least physically. He could acknowledge that he went into a bit of a downward spiral in terms of taking care of himself when she left. He hardly slept and completely shut himself out from everyone that reached out to him. Ashton moving in helped, but certain days made it bad again, like when their anniversary and Devon’s birthday passed. He didn’t want the same for her. He wanted her to do better than him.

Devon had her bad days too. She did better at the beginning when she had so much on her plate, but once things settled down, she was a wreck for a while, not much different than what Luke was like.

He hesitated only a moment before taking Devon into his arms. He prepared himself for her to pull away, but she did quite the opposite. She melted into him, cheek resting against the soft material of his sweater.

Devon remembered all the times she needed a hug. Whenever she had a bad day or was stressed out over school or simply just wanted to be held, Luke was always there. He would mumble a soft assurance under his breath as he took her into his arms, holding her tight as if she’d be gone forever if he let go. He would whisper whatever it was she needed to hear at the moment, although sometimes it was nothing at all.

She didn’t realize how badly she needed this one.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Dev,” Luke whispered into her hair. He could smell the same coconut shampoo she always used and the warm, sweet perfume she always wore. It brought a sense of comfort and familiarity.

“I’m glad to be here. I...I really missed you, Luke.”

The confession felt good. She tried to deny the fact that she missed him, but seeing him again, she realized how much she really had.

“I missed you too.”

Luke pulled away from the hug and kept his hands on Devon’s shoulders. The same blue eyes met the same brown ones. The ghosts of smiles tugged at their corners of their lips. Every worry they had about seeing each other had gone away.

“I want to say congratulations on your book,” Devon mumbled, fiddling with the small clutch she brought. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” he responded, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. “I have to say, I-”

His sentence got caught off by a shout of his name from an arriving guest. He sighed and sent Devon an apologetic look. There was a lot that needed to be said, so much that needed to be talked about, but they knew that this wasn’t the time or place to do so.

“It’s fine, go on. We’ll catch up later, bub-” she cut herself off, the pet name she called him so often about to slip from her lips so naturally. “Okay?”

Luke sighed sadly but gave her a smile. He understood why she stopped herself, but God, he would have loved to hear her call him that again.

“Okay. See you in a bit, Dev.”

Luke slowly walked away to greet the new arrivals while Devon wandered off to find people she knew. She came across her good friends from undergrad - mutual between her and Luke - who thankfully seemed excited to see her. They made small talk and asked about grad school before easing into questions about Luke. She should have expected it, but she hadn’t talked much about the breakup since it first happened. It was easy to simply not mention it to her grad school group and they wouldn’t know the difference, but these were the girls that she called sobbing at random times during the day when she needed to talk. It was natural that they were curious.

“Did you two talk at all while you were gone?” One asked, and Devon shook her head.

“No,” she sighed. “I think that was best, though.”

Devon’s eyes trailed to the right. Luke was talking to some family members, laughing. A small grin tugged at the corners of her lips. His laugh was musical and contagious. She always felt proud of herself when she made him laugh. Not that it was a difficult task; he loved to laugh. For Devon, getting to hear the noise was like a gift.

“Dev!”

She snapped her gaze back to her friends. Their expressions were a mixture of smug and concerned. It was obvious that Devon hadn’t gotten over Luke in the past year. She still looked at him the same way she always did. They were still concerned that she would get her heart broken again.

“You still love him, don’t you?”

Devon glanced over at him one more time. She tried to convince herself that she didn’t. She almost threw away her shoebox of poems just to prove it to herself, but she couldn’t do it. It would always be him.

“Of course I do.”

…

The rest of the night, Luke and Devon didn’t speak. They weren’t avoiding each other, but the weight of the conversation they needed to have required the crowd to go away and the festivities to die down before it could happen. They exchanged glances and small smiles, saving the talking for later.

Devon purposely hung back as the crowd startled to trickle out the door. Luke had made a small speech thanking everyone for coming and celebrating with him. Everyone took it as the hint that the party was over. Deciding to help out while she waited, Devon busied herself cleaning up a bit in the kitchen.

Footsteps caught her attention, but they didn’t belong to who she figured they did. Instead of seeing Luke, she saw Ashton. He was Luke’s best friend, and while him and Devon never got super close, she still considered him a friend.

“Hey, Dev,” Ashton greeted with a grin, opening his arms for a hug that she gladly accepted.

“Hi, Ash. How have you been?”

“Good. Just working,” he chuckled as he pulled away from the hug. “You? How’s grad school?”

“It’s pretty good.” Good if he asked about her academics and not her social life, that is.

“That’s good.”

Ashton leaned against the counter across from her, shooting her a look. She raised her eyebrows in expectation.

“Luke’s been freaking out, you know,” Ashton mumbled, sticking his hands in his pockets. “About seeing you.”

Devon sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Somehow, knowing that he was nervous too was comforting.

“Glad it wasn’t just me.”

“He really missed you. I’m sure he’ll tell you all this himself, but in case you don’t believe him, take it from me. He missed you so, so much.”

Devon couldn’t help but smile a little. It was good to hear it from someone else.

“I missed him too. A lot.”

Before Ashton could reply, Luke stepped into the kitchen, eyes flickering back and forth between his best friend and his ex girlfriend. Words got caught in Devon and Luke’s throats, neither of them sure what to say.

“I guess that’s my cue to get out,” Ashton joked, breaking the awkward silence. “Let me know when you’re ready to go home, Luke.”

The man walked out of the kitchen to help Calum and Michael clean up in the living room while Devon turned to look at Luke with furrowed eyebrows.

“Home?” She questioned.

“Ashton moved into the apartment a little while after you left,” Luke admitted, scratching the back of his neck. He took Ashton’s spot against the counter. “I needed a roommate to help with the rent.”

He left out the fact that being alone in there only reminded him that she was gone and he needed someone to keep him company.

Devon nodded in understanding, but felt another twinge of guilt. She hadn’t considered that she was leaving the financial burden onto him. Thankfully Ashton was there.

“How was your night?” Devon asked genuinely. The party was to celebrate his success, and she genuinely hoped he enjoyed it.

“It was really great.” Luke sent her a thankful grin. “I know I said it before, but it really means a lot to me that you’re here. I was afraid you wouldn’t want to come.”

“This is everything you’ve ever wanted. After everything we’ve been through, I would never miss this moment in your life.”

Devon sent him a sad smile that he returned. There was still so much that needed to be said, so much to discuss. A tension hung between them, but not one of anxiety or dread. It was desperation and desire. A yearning for what they once had.

“We need to talk, Dev,” Luke whispered what they were both thinking. “Like, really talk.”

“I know we do.” She glanced at the clock on the wall beside his head. “But it’s getting late. My flight back isn’t until Monday. Maybe we can meet up tomorrow, if you’re free? Get lunch?”

Luke nodded in agreement. It would be best if they both got some sleep and recharged before talking seriously.

“That sounds good.” Luke turned to look at the clock as well and laughed. “I know it’s past your bedtime.”

Devon rolled her eyes playfully. She was the “go to bed early, wake up early” type, while Luke was the opposite.

“Exactly. I need my beauty sleep.”

“Boy, do I know it.”

The two laughed together, for the first time in a long time. It felt so right.

“I should head back then,” Devon announced, reaching behind to grab her clutch that she had set on the counter. “Let me just call an Uber and I’ll be out of here.”

“Don’t worry about that. Ash and I came together, he’ll drive you back. Where are you staying?”

Not one to turn down a free ride, Devon rattled off the name of her hotel. Luke led her to the living room to get Ashton and say goodbye to Calum and Michael. Luke thanked them again for letting him have the party at their place before they were out the door and piled in Ashton’s car. Luke took shotgun while Devon slipped into the back.

The ride to the hotel was quiet. Only Ashton’s soft indie music and the sound of other cars filled the car. Shortly, Ashton pulled to a stop in front of Devon’s hotel. Luke turned around in his seat to face her.

“Thanks again for coming, Dev,” he mumbled softly, a grin on his face.

“Thanks for inviting me. And thanks for the ride, Ashton.” He nodded in acknowledgement before she turned her gaze back to Luke. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Tomorrow. Who knows what tomorrow would bring?

“See you tomorrow.”

Devon climbed out of the car and headed towards the doors, sparing one last glance and a wave before heading inside. Luke watched as she walked in, a small sigh escaping his lips. He turned his head to see Ashton with a smirk on his face.

“What?” Luke questioned.

“You still love her, don’t you, mate?”

Luke sighed again, glancing back towards the doors. Devon was already out of sight, probably in the elevator already. He knew exactly what she was going to do when she got to her room. She would kick off her shoes and then take her makeup off. She’d go through her night time skin care routine, put her hair in a bun with a silk scrunchie, and finally change into her pajamas, which were usually just a big t-shirt and panties. She would probably spend some time reading or watching cooking videos on TikTok before going to bed.

“Of course I do.”

…

Devon swiped one last bit of lip gloss across her lips when Luke texted her that he was outside. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her purse and phone before heading downstairs to meet him.

The anxiety was coming back. Seeing Luke was one thing, but having a full on conversation was another. It didn’t help that the conversation would surely lead to the topic of their relationship. Their breakup.

Luke was feeling similarly. He had paced around the apartment all morning until Ashton gave him a pep talk. He reminded him that if they didn’t talk, Devon would just leave again and nothing would change. Nothing would get fixed.

The sound of a creaky car door opening snapped Luke from his thoughts, looking up to see Devon climbing in. He sent her a smile.

“Hey, Dev.”

“Hey, Luke. Bertha’s still kicking, I see?” Devon joked as she buckled her seatbelt. She knew that Luke wasn’t going to get rid of his beloved Prius until absolutely necessary, but the fact that the car still functioned at all was shocking.

“I think it might be her time soon, but for now, she gets me where I need to go.”

Bertha survived the drive to the small diner that Devon and Luke agreed on, albeit the radio cut out a few times. It was a new place and Luke had been wanting to try it. A part of Devon wondered if he really wanted to try it or if he just didn’t want to take her to one of the places that they frequented when they were together. Frankly, she wouldn’t have wanted to go to one of their old spots either. It would have felt too odd.

Once inside and seated, a waitress came to take coffee orders before scurrying away.

“Tell me about grad school,” Luke began, saving the more serious topics of conversation for later. It was best to start off casual and simply catch up on everything that had happened in the past year.

“It’s alright,” Devon sighed. She would have fibbed, but she felt no need to lie to Luke. “My classes are great. I’ve learned so much and my professors are awesome. It’s just…”

She trailed off, unsure how to put her thoughts into words without sounding pathetic. She didn’t want Luke to judge her.

“What?” He pressed gently, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“It’s the other students, I guess. Everyone at our school was so great, but the people there are just not so friendly. And most of the other grad students did undergrad there, so I couldn’t really fit my way into a friend group. And there’s just not as much to do in the city as there is here,” she explained, her hands occupying themselves with the napkin in her lap.

She locked eyes with Luke, waiting for his response. He could have used it against her. He could have guilt tripped her for leaving and then not being happy. But Luke would never do that and Devon knew it.

“Well that’s not good,” he mumbled sincerely. “I’m sorry, Dev.”

He truly did feel bad. Every day while Devon was gone, he thought about her. He hoped she was having a good day and that her education was going well. It pained him to think that she wasn’t having a great time.

“It’s okay. I mean, I’m there for my master’s, not to make friends.” The waitress came back with their drinks and took their lunch orders. “Anyways, tell me about your book! What happened with the publishers and everything?”

The fact that Devon’s grad school wasn’t everything that she had imagined was still bothering him but Luke went along, knowing she wouldn’t want to talk about it.

“I sent another draft to one of the ones that was interested before, a while after you left. He said he liked the majority of it but wanted a few different ones. It took me a while to figure out what he wanted, but eventually I got it,” he rambled. “I’m really happy with it.”

“I’m glad,” she replied, heart swelling with pride. “When does it come out?”

“Next week.”

Devon hummed in acknowledgement, already making a mental note to pick up a copy for herself.

“How about work?” She questioned after a sip of her cappuccino.

“You’ll never believe it,” Luke chuckled. “I got promoted to a manager position.”

“Really? It’s about time!”

Devon and Luke had a running joke about Luke’s job. He had been there the longest other than the owner, an old woman who still moved like a teenager. She always hung a promotion over his head, suggesting it but never following through. Luke knew she was planning on giving it to him eventually. It was just a matter of time until she actually did, and the two would always make jokes about it.

They made small talk until their food came, causing the duo to fall into silence. Meaningless conversation about the weather could only last so long until what really needed to be talked about came out.

Soup and sandwiches didn’t last long enough. Their plates were cleared and there was no point in stalling anymore.

“I think we fucked up.”

Luke’s statement was unsugarcoated. He couldn't say for sure how Devon felt, but every day throughout the past year, Luke felt like he was making a mistake. Everyone around them was shocked at the news of their breakup; if there were any college sweethearts that would actually last, it would be them. That certainly didn’t help Luke’s pain when everyone else knew it was a mistake too.

Devon felt tears burn the back of her eyes as she nodded softly. He was right. Perhaps it was best at the time, but they couldn’t do another year of being apart.

“I think we did.”

Her voice broke, taking a deep breath to calm herself down and not cry in the restaurant.

“Hey,” Luke cooed soothingly, noticing the tears and reaching across the table for her hand. As his hand encased hers, at that moment, everything felt like it was going to be okay. “Maybe we should go somewhere more private.”

Luke paid the check and made their way back to Bertha. The need for privacy left them with two options; Devon’s hotel room or the apartment.

“Maybe we could go to my hotel room,” Devon suggested. “That way we won’t bother Ashton.”

That was only part of the reason. Devon wasn’t sure how she would feel if she stepped into her old home in the current state of their relationship. All of the memories her and Luke had would come flooding back. The hotel room was a neutral place without connection to what once was.

Luke agreed and drove to the location he remembered from the night before. The elevator ride up to Devon’s room was heavily silent, hands brushing against each other but never interlocking. The sound of the door shutting behind them once in the room was thunderous, the sound signifying that there was absolutely nothing between them and the inevitable anymore.

They stood in the middle of the room for a moment, looking anywhere but each other. There was no good way to start the conversation. There was no easy way to talk about a painful breakup that led to a year apart, then being reunited.

Without the right words in mind, Devon threw herself at Luke. She wrapped her arms tight around his middle and buried her head into his chest. Luke returned the gesture, holding her as close as he could. The hug said more than what either of them could put into words.

It wasn’t until a few minutes that Devon finally found something to say.

“I can’t keep doing this, Lu,” she whispered shakily. “I can’t keep missing you like this.”

“This is all my fault, Dev. I was the one who didn’t think we could do it. Fuck, honey, I’m so sorry.”

Devon surely didn’t think it was his fault. He had every right to be upset that she was moving so far away, and he had every right to be scared of what the distance would do to their relationship. She felt the same way. They broke up to spare themselves the pain of long distance. It hadn’t taken long for them to realize that the pain of being broken up was much, much worse.

As much as she tried to push the thoughts away, Devon couldn’t help thinking about how if she hadn’t left, this wouldn’t have happened. She knew that she did nothing wrong and that her education was just as important, but she had never intended to pursue it in expense of her relationship.

“This isn’t your fault. It was both of us. We were just saving ourselves from the pain. Besides, I was the one that left-”

“No,” Luke cut her off, glancing down at her. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this. You did absolutely nothing wrong.”

Devon lifted her head up to meet his gaze. His face was serious but his eyes were completely sincere. She had always feared that he would hold a grudge against her for leaving. One look into the gorgeous blue eyes that she fell in love with told her that he didn’t.

“I never want you to blame this on you going to grad school. I want you to know that I completely support your decision and all your aspirations, honey. I will never hold that against you.”

Tears brimmed Devon’s eyes again, but these weren’t tears of pain. They were of love and adoration. Luke was the most amazing man she had ever known. He had a heart of gold and was one hell of a poet. She had never felt so loved as she felt by him.

“Please tell me this isn’t over, Luke,” she whispered, hands moving to cup his bearded cheeks. A single tear slipped down the soft skin of Devon’s cheek. “I love you. I never stopped. Please tell me there can be an us again.”

Luke wasn’t sure when he started crying, but a sudden wetness on his cheek alerted him of the act. His hands tugged Devon’s waist to bring her closer, noses brushing touching and breath mingling. They could hardly remember the last time they had been that close, the last time they felt love so intensely.

“I’ve wanted us back since that day a year ago. I love you more than anything, Devon. Always have, always will.”

For the first time in over a year, Luke and Devon’s lips connected in a kiss. It was nothing short of passionate and heavy. The love they hadn’t been able to express for so long was rising to the surface, coming out in the form of mumbled words, bruising kisses and desperate touches.

Frantic fingers worked the buttons of Devon’s flannel, slowly pushing her backwards until the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed. The offending item was discarded to the floor and the newly reunited couple crawled onto the bed. Devon shivered under Luke, a reaction caused by a mixture of the cool sheets against her bare back and his lips on her neck, his beard providing a new sensation that she hadn’t felt before.

The past year was difficult. If they could go back in time and fix it, they would jump on the opportunity without a second thought. But just maybe, it made them stronger. Maybe they needed to begin to wilt in order for them to bloom.

…

“What do we do now?”

Devon curled closer to Luke as a crisp breeze cut through the darkening evening. He sighed and wrapped the blanket tighter around them.

“I’m not sure.”

The couple sat in the trunk of Luke’s car with the door popped open, parked at a lookout point that overlooked the city. It was something they used to do all the time in college. It was comforting to return to their old traditions, knowing that they had fixed what they broke.

It was Sunday evening, the day before Devon flew back to her grad school city. They may have gotten back together, but they were still faced with the same problem as when they broke up. Devon still had a whole year of grad school left, miles away.

“I’m not sure I want to go back,” Devon admitted, eyes fixed on the city lights. Luke snapped his head to look at her, eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you mean? Are you saying you don’t want to finish your degree?”

Luke would never forgive himself if she gave up her master’s degree because of him. He didn’t want the distance either, but he could never hold her back from her dreams.

“No, no, I want to finish. I just...I wasn’t happy in that city. This is my home. I’m happy here,” she explained. She tore her eyes away from the view in favor of looking at her boyfriend. “With you.”

Luke dipped his head down, pressing a kiss to her temple. Devon leaned into the affection that she had missed so much.

“It’s up to you, honey. I don’t want to hold you back. Just know that if you do stay there, I’m going to really try this time. I promise we’ll make it work, and I’ll be here for you no matter what.”

Devon grinned at his words. She didn’t realize how much she needed to hear that; that the past wouldn’t repeat itself. However, she didn’t want to put either of them through the suffering of a long distance relationship when she didn’t even want to be away.

“I appreciate that, bubs. But I just can’t do that to us after everything we’ve been through.” She thought for a moment, trying to decipher the best course of action. “Maybe I could finish online.”

Luke nodded in acknowledgement; it was a good compromise. Devon got to finish her degree at the school with the best program, and she didn’t have to be so far away. It benefitted Luke as well, not just her. However, he didn’t want to sway her either way.

“If that’s what you want, honey. This is your decision.”

He gave her shoulders a squeeze as she thought it over. The only sounds to be heard were the gentle hum of the city below them and the cold breeze that ruffled the trees. It was so familiar. They had spent countless nights like this, simply enjoying each other’s company and rewinding from hectic college life. Luke had to remind himself that they weren’t undergraduate students anymore; Devon was in grad school and he was a published poet.

It was baffling how everything felt like it had gone back to the way it was, yet things were actually so very different.

“That’s what I want,” Devon announced with confidence after a few moments of pondering. “I want to stay here.”

Matching lovesick grins spread across their faces as they locked eyes. She scooted closer to Luke, if that was even possible, nudging her nose against his.

“You’re sure?” He verified, eyes fluttering closed.

“So very sure.”

He chuckled lowly before closing the gap. The air between them was finally clear. Their relationship was fixed and they would still be together. No more pain and suffering.

Devon rested her head on Luke’s shoulder when the kiss broke, breathing out a content sigh. They enjoyed the silence for a moment before Devon piped up with a question.

“Can I move back into the apartment?”

“Of course you can,” Luke chuckled. “That’s our place. Why couldn’t you?”

“What about Ashton?”

“He understands our situation, babe. He saw this coming. He already asked Calum and Michael if he could take the extra bedroom at their flat if it came to this, and they agreed. As long as you’re fine with living with him for a little while until he moves out, then he’s fine with it too.”

Devon let out a breathy laugh, nodding in understanding.

“I mean, I’ll still have to go back to my apartment out there for a bit to get my stuff.” She looked up at Luke with a hopeful glint in her eye. “Do you think you could come with and help? It’s alright if you can’t.”

“I can come, honey. I’ll see if I can fly out with you tomorrow, but if not I can come a couple days later, so you don’t have to change yours.” A smirk spread across his face before continuing. “Or we could just wait to go together and stay here for another few days. You know, catch up a little more.”

Devon laughed and playfully rolled her eyes, nudging his shoulder.

“What a way with words you have, Hemmings. No wonder you’re a poet.”

“Speaking of poetry, I have something for you.”

Luke pressed a swift kiss to Devon’s cheek before hopping out of the trunk. He opened the door to the back seat and rifled around for a moment, then returning to face Devon. He removed his hand from behind his back, holding it out to her.

“For you.”

Devon took the item from his hand curiously. It only took a moment for her to realize what it was.

It was a book titled The Life of a Flower. The cover was a stunning photo of two orchids side by side, and Luke’s name was printed across the bottom.

His first poetry book.

“You’re the first person to get a copy,” he mumbled sheepishly, breaking Devon from her trance of staring at it. She couldn’t help the tears of pride that welled in her eyes. If seeing the actual, physical book in person was such an emotional moment for her, she couldn’t even imagine how Luke must have felt when he saw it for the first time.

“This is incredible, Luke,” she whispered, smiling despite her tears. “I’m so proud of you, bubs, so fucking proud.”

Devon dropped the blanket from her shoulders and hopped down from the trunk. Her arms found their way around his neck while his found her waist. Pride was an understatement. She had been there every step of the way, and seeing his dreams finally come to life was a wonderful sight to see.

“Thank you, Devon,” Luke whispered into her hair. “For being my biggest supporter. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

“It’s not me, Lu,” she mumbled in response, tilting her head up to look at him. “You have a gift. Your writing got you here, not me.”

“I would have given up on writing a long time ago if I didn’t have you. You give me an endless amount of inspiration that I never had before. A poet’s words are meaningless if his muse isn’t worth writing about.”

“Damn. William Shakespeare has nothing on you,” she joked although she was absolutely melting on the inside. Luke groaned playfully.

“You always ruin the moment. Anyway, look at the first pages.”

Devon removed her arms from his neck to flip through, skipping past the title page, copyright and table of contents until she found what he was talking about. She found a dedications page that only made her tear up again, reading:

“For Devon. You’ll always be my orchid.”

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green-socks · 3 years

Text

Hungry Eyes chapter 1

Pairing: Benny Miller x OFC (Dirty Dancing AU)

Summary: Dirty Dancing but here Benny is in the role of Baby and the dance instructor is a female OC. Benny goes to the resort with Will’s family (because who wouldn’t want cool uncle Benny to join their summer vacation?), and ends up falling for a dance instructor working on the resort. This first part is Benny and the dance instructor’s first meeting, basically the “I carried a watermelon” scene if you will.

Words: 1,818

Warnings: Alcohol/drinking, some curse words. Something else? Let me know!

Notes: This is one of those “I want to see it so I have to write it” situations. I have never ever written fiction before and this is scary as fuck, but I have this story in my head and now I’m trying to put it into words. I’m posting this part of the story now because I can, but I’m also working on a prologue of sorts.

This idea came to me in a dream (which was probably inspired by this headcanon ) and I told @the-purity-pen about it and she told me to write it. Without your encouragement I never would have even tried this fun thing and I’ll love you forever for it <3

And of course I’ll be eternally grateful to @astroboots for the beta and giving me that final push! Thank you for letting me ramble to you about this and being so lovely <3

Prologue

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

The night was warm, only the sounds of crickets and the slight rustle of wind keeping Benny company on his walk. Most people on the resort, like his brother and his family, had already retired to their cabins and rooms for the night. It was quiet, calm.

Despite what many people thought, Benny enjoyed the quiet. Needed it, in fact. He was always energetic around people, giving them all of himself. And he didn’t have to fake that energy, but sometimes even he needed to wind down and enjoy some peace and quiet. These walks, this whole vacation, was his time to relax and just be.

Benny was walking along a path near where the hiking trails begin when he heard the quiet thumping of bass through the night air. The further he walked along the path the louder the music got.

Through the bushes and trees Benny could see a house a little further up the hill. There seemed to be a party going on there, judging by the noise and music coming through its open windows. Benny wondered who were partying there and if the house even belonged to the resort or if it was a private property.

He continued walking, thinking he’d just walk past the house and continue further into the woods, when he saw a woman on the bottom of the stairs leading to the house. She was carrying a big box in her arms, clearly struggling under the weight of it.

“Hey! Do you need help with that?” Benny hollered to the woman.

She let out a breath. “Sure, thanks,” she answered, while handing Benny the box and starting to climb up the stairs. “Hope it isn’t too heavy!”

“Nah, doesn’t weigh a thing. We goin’ to the party house over there?” Benny asked, nodding his head in the direction of it.

“You’re technically not supposed to be here, you know. It’s off limits to resort guests.”

“I can keep a secret”, Benny grinned.

“What’s your name?” she asked him. “Benny.” “Nice to meet you Benny. My name’s Lily,” she added, pointing to the name tag still on her work shirt.

“Anyway, some of us who work on the resort live in this house for the summer, and sometimes we throw parties. But they’re strictly for a limited group of people, and we could get into a lot of trouble if our employees or other resort guests found out, so you better keep your mouth shut,” she warned sternly.

“I promise I won’t tell a soul.”

They continued up the stairs and Benny heard the telltale clinking of bottles from the box even through the loudening music.

“Wait, you’re all of age, right? Cause this is a lot of booze”, Benny asked, suddenly slightly worried about assisting these partiers.

“Oh yeah, don’t worry, we have a strict no minors policy!” Lily answered.

With that they reached the top of the stairs and Lily held open the door for him into the house.

Benny wasn’t fully prepared to the sight that greeted him.

Sure, he had seen his share of parties, especially with his boys, but these people were wild.

There were no more than twenty people in the room, but they were all dancing like no tomorrow. Benny doubted they even needed all the booze he was carrying to let loose like that.

He watched in awe the mass of bodies moving to the beat, everyone shaking, grinding, jumping, twisting, and twirling around without a care in the world.

“Who are these people?” He asked incredulously, eyes wide.

Lily laughed at his shock. “We’re the entertainment team! Most of us are dancers or come from a theater background. Now come on!” she said and led him deeper into the house.

Benny suddenly felt like some silly delivery boy, even though he was probably older than most of them, when he maneuvered around the dancing people, trying to watch his step. Some of them spared him curious glances before getting lost in the music again.

“I imagine you don’t dance like this during the day when you’re doing dance classes on the resort?” Benny joked, still trying to get his bearings.

“Oh hell no, this is just for our own entertainment here,” Lily laughed again.

Suddenly two more people burst through the door, arm in arm, and everyone cheered happily in greeting.

A man and a woman, who Benny recognized as the lead dance instructors on the resort, joined the party, immediately grabbing drinks and making their way through the dancefloor.

Benny noticed how they seemed to greet everyone individually by dancing with them; how they took eye contact and often physical contact with everyone and danced with them for a while before moving on, each one with a slightly different way. It was like they were speaking to one another, all these bodies communicating through movement alone.

He was mesmerized looking at them both, the attractive couple that were clearly the life of the party. But he couldn’t take his eyes off the woman who seemed to move so easily, so freely, the joy and love she was feeling visible in her every movement.

Benny couldn’t believe this was the same woman who had taught a dance class to his nieces earlier that same day. Sure, he had noticed her even then, how could he not; she was very pretty.

But the woman he was seeing now was sexy, confident, nothing like Benny had seen before.

“Those are my friends Patrick and Jolene, they helped me get this job!” Lily shouted in his ear over the music.

“They seem to have great chemistry,” Benny remarked, his gaze still focusing mostly on Jolene.

“Yeah, it’s because they know each other so well. People always think they’re together --“ Benny certainly thought their very physical and intimate way of dancing would mean that “-- but they’re just best friends from a long time”, Lily chatted casually, oblivious to Benny’s thoughts.

Benny found his heart beating a little faster with this information, not that he really knew what to do with it.

His mouth was getting dry and he was breathing a little quicker. For fuck’s sake, he was getting a little turned on from watching her. Get it together man, he thought to himself.

Benny tried not to stare too hungrily; he didn’t want to be that creepy guy at the party that no one even knew.

The longer he watched these people dancing their hearts out the more he found himself slightly bopping along the beat, wishing he had a beer in hand, or maybe that he knew how to dance like they did.

______________

Jolene was enjoying herself, finally letting off steam after a hard day’s work. Few things on this earth made her happier than dancing, especially dancing with her best friend Patrick on these summer nights they got to spend together.

As she spun around in Patrick’s strong arms, she noticed the tall stranger standing near the back of the room next to Lily. Who the heck was this guy and where did he come from?

Jo tapped Patrick on the shoulder to let him know she was going to get something to drink and made her way through the crowd towards Lily and the stranger.

“Hey, Lil. Who’s your friend here?”

“Oh, this is Benny. He came with me.” Lily answered happily.

“Yeah, I, uh, helped her carry the box up here”, the guy, Benny, supplied shyly in a deep voice, pointing at the box in question.

Jo gave Lily a stern look. She really should’ve known better than to bring customers up here. These parties were kept a secret for a good reason, since they could all lose their jobs if the resort managers found out, but especially her and Patrick, because they were responsible for their team. And they were already on thin ice as it were, because, in Jo’s humble opinion, the managers were a bunch of jerks.

Lily just shrugged and Jo sighed deeply before turning to look at the man next to her, who, for some reason, was avoiding her gaze.

“Well, Benny, would you like to dance?” Jo thought she could size the guy up a little better if she could get him alone with her. She had to look after her team after all. Besides, he looked a little lonely, bopping along the music shyly. Maybe she could teach him a few things.

Benny looked a little startled, as he answered “Oh, I don’t know how to dance”.

“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you,” Jo said, pulling him on the dancefloor.

“C’mon, just follow my lead. Do this. And try to feel the rhythm.” Jo started showing him how to move to the beat, swaying from side to side.

“Good, now loosen your hips a little more,” Jo instructed, putting her hands on his hips and directing his movements.

Jo had to hand it to the guy; he was learning surprisingly quickly, and it was refreshing to see a man who was willing to try and learn dancing even if it was a bit awkward at first. His movements were a little stunted, but he clearly had a good ear for the rhythm. He was even smiling and laughing a little at his own awkwardness, but Jo could see he was also enjoying himself.

“Okay, now let’s try this. Follow my lead again,” Jo said, putting her hands on his broad shoulders. He was so tall she had to reach pretty far, but they managed it anyway. Jo stepped closer and started grinding against him, showing him how to move by using her own body to guide him.

Slowly Benny was easing into it, even putting his arms on her waist.

“Okay, you’re getting the hang of it now!” Jo smiled at him proudly and he grinned back.

_______________

Benny was actually enjoying himself. He was dancing with a gorgeous woman and he wasn’t making a complete and total fool of himself. He considered that a victory at this point.

He just knew Santi would be laughing his ass off if he could see Benny now. Will probably would tease him too.

Benny grinned at the thought. But hey, they weren’t here and he was having fun so who cares, he thought.

Although he had to admit, he was still a little shocked at the fact that this amazing dancer was dancing with him and even looking like she wasn’t completely hating it.

He was still a little dazed when the song ended and Jolene patted his arm, told him “See you around” and bounced her way to the middle of the crowd again.

“Yeah, uh, see ya,” Benny muttered after her, standing awkwardly on the edge of the dancefloor.

Deciding he had probably already overstayed his welcome Benny readjusted his hat on his head and quietly headed out to the warm night air again.

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

Chapter 2

Notes: If you read this far I don’t even know how to react. Thank you?If you like Benny and/or Dirty Dancing we can probably bond over that

#i accidentally wrote something #who even am i #what am i doing #what #benny miller x ofc #dirty dancing AU #my benny boo #i wanna boogie with benny #triple frontier fanfiction #nobody puts benny in the corner

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zaraquinn · 3 years

Text

So This is Love

Faramir - Falling in Love

Word Count: 1,265

Faramir x Fem!Reader (Witch) - LOTR

Requested: by my dumbass

A/N:

Y/N - Your Name

Additional Notes: Inspired by @meganlpie ‘s oneshot “disappearance”

Bc that cinderella au with Faramir (+ the rest of the lotr characters) was too wholesome, I needed to contribute to another one of the same vibe. Also, it’s in the works, but I just might make some oneshots that are my own oc! This was one of them but i obviously changed it from my oc to reader (hence why she is a witch). Lastly, enjoy Gandalf being a matchmaker! Anyway, hope you guys like this!

Song: so this is love - Ilene Woods & Mike Douglas

———

Aragorn’s crowning ceremony had ended, and the city on Minas Tirith was once again reunited with their King. Filled with happiness, the entire city celebrated; Aragorn had declared the entire day to celebrate peace, and shall henceforth do nothing but celebrate the victory over darkness and gather in the light. Everyone was happy that day.

As the day grew weary, there was a feast and a ball held for festivities. The Fellowship and a few other important companions all a part of the One Ring’s demise had gathered with Aragorn in the halls of Gondor. The table long and gracious, the food was almost eaten by the four hobbits themselves, but luckily there was going to be more to come, and the new King had kept his promise for the four darling hobbits once the ball started. The halls of Gondor were then filled with wonderful music and celebratory dances. Smiling faces and of course, for the hobbits, food that even made Pippin jump in excitement. Y/N smiled at the very sight. Finally, peace had been restored, it felt nothing like she’s ever felt before.

She watched over from the corner of the party; Aragorn and Arwen dancing together, even Frodo and Sam enjoying the tunes as they danced too. Merry and Pippin feasting on some food at the tables and Legolas and Gimli were on their way with another drinking game, with Eomer and Eowyn on opposing teams helping the elf and dwarf of their team to win.

“I see you are not dancing with the rest of the party,” Gandalf said, all of the sudden, appearing behind her. His white robes glowing ever so lightly, as he settled beside her. She looked up at the Mithrandir with a small smile. “A witch always observes.” “Ah yes. Observing every step she takes.” He smiled back down at the young witch, joining in with humouring herself. Although, Gandalf’s eyes found themselves across the room beyond Y/N, to see a lonely Faramir also observing. “You’re not the only observer beyond these festivities.” She looked up at the Great Wizard with confusion; a brow furrowed and her head titled slightly.

His eyes flicked on behind her, and she turned around, seeing the lonely Prince of Ithilien. A small blush crept on her face as the two made eye contact and she shyly waved. Looking back at Gandalf, she knew exactly what he was doing. “Gandalf!” He knew of the young witch’s crush on the certain Prince, and thought this was a good time to humour Y/N but also entertain himself. “It is not common that a witch falls in love.” She looked at him almost shocked and quickly blushing madly in embarrassment. “How did you know about that?” She glanced down at her shoes but tried to focus on the festivities around them. “Young fools in love never realize how much they are in love. Even Peregrin Took could tell between the two of you.” She nervously swallowed “Between the two?” She looked at Gandalf with hopeful eyes. All he had to do was smile, as he saw Faramir quickly approaching them. Following his glance she turned around, being met with Faramir’s tall figure. Gandalf took the opportunity to walk off, and leave the fools alone.

“My Lady.” “Your Highness.” They gave a bow to each other, only to meet each other’s eyes and grow a smile—the formalities still fresh but ridiculous to both. “Faramir.” The young witch broke the formalities as the two shared a chuckle. “Y/N.” Oh did she love the way her name sounded on his lips. “I see you’re not enjoying the celebration.” She looked at him with a confused look, meeting his ocean eyes. “And what makes you say this?” She quipped as she crossed her arms. “Well, you’re not dancing. Or drinking. Or...eating.” Faramir stretched the last point, his attention going from the drinking game between the Elf and the Dwarf to the two hobbits going through the food at one of the tables. Y/N had also turned her attention to the hobbits at the food table, and a smile grew on her rose lips. Pippin stuffing his face with more pieces of chicken and Merry just about to dig into another roasted lamb. Glancing back at the woman, Faramir continued; holding out his hand and bowing slightly. “Care for a dance, my lady?”

A pink blush spread across the charming woman’s cheeks as she quickly leans her hand into his, looking behind her nervously. She met with Gandalf’s gaze as he smiled and nodded, and that was the green light she needed. Turning back to the handsome prince she glimmered—hand sliding into his as he gently took her soft hands and brought her to the dance floor. The two got into position quickly, smiles meeting each other and seeing familiar faces start to join the pair. Faramir wasn’t always the best dancer, nor was Y/N, so the two had more enjoyment of just being in each other’s company rather than focusing on their fancy routine.

The pair danced and talked, feeling their already strong bond become bigger and closer than ever. The music of the night kept going, and both Faramir and Y/N found themselves retiring from dancing for a while to meet each other in the courtyard of Minas Tirith. The beautiful moon shone down on the white city, and for once in a very long time, the tree still sprouted the white petals in the air. Both had each others’ hand in hand as they walked to the tree. The feeling of Faramir’s hand in hers felt so natural—pure. Like it was meant to be. Like it... was love.

So this is love. Settling just beside the tree, the pair bathed in the white moonlight. Faramir finished retelling a story from his childhood, about him and Boromir, and it successfully made the maiden laugh.

That laugh was music to Faramir’s ears; something that he could listen to forever. It felt right being with Y/N—he knew it in his heart that it was love. So this is love. This is what makes life, divine, the prince thought. “What?” Y/N’s soft voice echoed in the empty courtyard as she caught Faramir staring at her face. “You glow in the moonlight.” He said all dreamily. Y/N smiled, failing to contain the blush rushing to her cheeks and the smile forming on her rose lips. Faramir pulled her closer, gently laying his hands on her waist as he knows now, that she was the key to heaven. Looking back up, she felt the certain prince bring her closer, and soon enough, his lips descended onto hers; those rose-coloured lips soft as a cloud.

Y/N could feel her heart grow wings as Faramir kissed her—the moment their lips touched. She could feel like she could fly high as the eagles, or touch every star in the sky. Departing from the kiss they looked at each other with pure adoration, and Faramir taking her face into his hands ever so gently. Who knew that she was the prize to peace. After all the effort and death that plagued the war, her love, was the prize. “So this is the miracle that I have been dreaming of.” He said, and she mirrored his actions, bringing her hands to cup his cheek. “So this is love, my lady, Y/N.” The Prince of Ithilien said, looking at the witch maiden and seeing his entire future in her brown eyes. “So this is love, my Faramir.”

They shared one final chuckle before taking another kiss underneath that moonlight.

———

MASTERLIST 🌕

LOTR REQUEST POST 🌙

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Riding On

CH7- Home, Sweet Home

Summary: Frank and Fliss find their perfect family home, but there’s something bothering Mary.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Discussions about suicide. A little bit of angst.

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: This is a bit of an emotionally charged filler chapter…and we move time on a little through to June in the middle. And photos of the Adler house are included at the bottom so you can visualise what I used for inspiration.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 6

You’re giving it another try, staring at the deep blue sky, and you say to the driver just drive, coz you never felt so alive.

April 2019

“Hey honey, you ok?” Frank juggled his phone, pinning it between his ear and his shoulder as he leaned over his computer in the office, scanning the database on the screen for a filter part they needed to order.

“No, I mean yes! I’ve just heard some awesome news!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, so you remember the guy that bought the house that backs onto the yard when Old Man River died…” “That wasn’t his name.” Frank chuckled “It was Mr Morris.”

“He called himself River, it was funny and suited him. Anyway, that’s not the point. You know the guy who bought it…guess what I found out before?”

Frank stopped what he was doing and straightened up. He didn’t like that dick, one bit. When Mr Morris had died at the start of the year, Fliss had been quite upset about the news as the old man had been very friendly to her, often popping in for a cup of tea a few afternoons a week for some company. Mr Morris’ son had sold the house without them even knowing it had gone on the market, which was a shame as it would have been perfect for them given the location. The guy who had bought it, Frank didn’t even know his name, nor did he care because he was a dick and a pervert to boot. The way he looked at Fliss made Frank want to punch his face in.

“What’s Douchey Mc Douchebag done now?”

“You’re so childish.” she scoffed “Anyway, I was only commenting to Joanne last night that we haven’t seen him for like a month and she went home and mentioned it to her dad who works with some other guy in the property development business and the long and short of it is he’s gone bankrupt Frank!”

Frank laughed loudly “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy, babe!”

“I know right!” Fliss voice was gathering pace and pitch, the way it always did when she was excited. “So literally about half hour after she’s told me this, someone turns up and there’s a For Sale sign outside, the house is on the market!”

Ok now he was interested. Frank could picture the look of excitement on her face as she spoke to him and he felt the smile cross his face “No shit?”

“Yeah, I’ll send you the website to look at the photos but…oh God, it would be perfect! Some of it is really nice, some of it needs decorating but…”

“Ok, well, why don’t you call the realtor? Arrange a viewing” he said “Hopefully you won’t puke halfway round this one.”

“Ok, first off that wasn’t my fault. Bean objected to the smell. Who the fuck cooks eggs the day they know they have someone coming to view their house?” her indignant tone made Frank chuckle “And second off…”she paused “I already did. He said he can meet us at half 12.”

“Half 12? As in lunch time? Today?” Frank frowned.

“I know I just really don’t want to miss out on this one Frank, and you said you were gonna come up here for lunch and-”

“Ok, ok.” Frank sighed “I’ll shuffle some stuff around, work a little later tonight and take an extra half hour.”

“I love you.” she replied and he could hear the smile in her voice.

“Good job I love you too.” he said back gruffly “Because you’re a pain in my ass.”

He bid her goodbye and just as he was looking at the rota to make sure there were enough staff in to cope if he took a longer lunch, his phone beeped. He clicked through to the link Fliss had sent him and had a scan through the photos. To be fair the house didn’t look in too bad condition. It was deceptive from the outside, looked like a small farmhouse but they knew thanks to the extension Douchebag had put on the back it now formed an L shape and from the look of it, was pretty spacious. The kitchen was new, the main bathroom was new so the big work looked like it had been mostly done. The décor in some of the rooms was really old fashioned, especially the hallway you and the front reception room, but that was all cosmetic. What really grabbed him was the price. It was up for just over 320 thousand, which was a fucking steal considering the size, location, the garden and the garage/outhouse it came with.

“You ok Frank?”

He looked up and smiled as Alan, his boss walked in to the office. “Yeah, sorry, Fliss has found a house and managed to book a viewing for lunch time. Fucking 7th one in 2 weeks.”

Alan snorted “Keeping you on your toes I see?”

“Well I gotta say, this one’s looking pretty good. It’s the house that backs onto our Yard out in Pinellas Park.” Frank explained “It was sold not even 6 months ago to a developer and he’s apparently gone bankrupt so put it back on the market.”

“Huh.” Alan smiled “Sounds like it was meant to be. Take it you’re going then?”

“Yeah, Charlie and Gary are in all afternoon. I thought I could take an extra half hour, work it back tonight or…”

“Frank, when was the last time you actually took a full hour for your lunch and didn’t cut it short by 10 or 15?” Alan looked at him.

Frank hesitated “Yeah, but that’s-”

“No buts.” Alan shook his head. “Do what you gotta do.”

“Thanks Alan.” Frank smiled, “I appreciate it.”

Alan waved away his gratitude before he dropped into the chair on the opposite side of Frank’s small desk and gestured for Frank to sit down.

“I wanted to talk to you in person, before the news gets out. I’m looking at retiring Frank, fully this time.”

“That’s good news, for you I mean.” Frank smiled, taking his seat. “You must be happy?”

“Kinda bitter sweet.” He shrugged “But I hit 70 this year and bout time I let it all go. Bill’s already chomping at the bit to book damned fishing trips so...it’ll be nice to step back. But I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Shoot.”

“My son, James is going to be taking over, that won’t come as any surprise to you as you’ve seen him knocking around a bit and he likes you.”

“Good to know I’m not going to be out on my ass.” Frank smiled, breathing out a little.

“No, not a chance. I wouldn’t allow it.” Alan said “I’ll still be the owner, just stepping back from major decision making and day to day running. Anyway, the point is Frank, James needs a deputy. He is young and a little inexperienced. I’ve seen how quickly over the last year you’ve picked up rotas, staffing issues, dealt with the stock takes, haggled with the supply chain…I wondered if you’d consider it.”

Frank blinked “You wanna make me deputy manager?”

“In a word, yes. And I know you got your hands full at the moment and they’ll be even more full when that boy of yours arrives but the changes won’t come into effect until the end of the year so we got plenty of time to work out the details.”

“Wow, I err…” Frank shook his head “I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t need an answer now.” Alan said, “Take some time to consider it. Talk it over with Fliss.”

“I will, I’ll give it some thought.”

“Ok, well, that’s all I dropped in for.” Alan said, standing up, groaning a little “Did you just hear my damned knees click?”

Frank laughed and shook his head “No, but to be honest mine click too so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Getting old sucks.” Alan said, shaking his head “I tell ya, the minute I can’t enjoy the simple things in life, put a bullet in my head.”

Frank snorted as Alan shot him a wink and left him to his thoughts.

******* Frank glanced down at the wooden boards beneath his feet in the entrance hall. They were solid old wood, oak he thought, and with a clean and polish would look stunning. He looked up and saw Fliss talking animatedly to the realtor, a young man called David as he nodded and gestured to his left. Fliss opened the door and looked at Frank who followed her into the first reception room. It smelt musty, and there was an old sofa and threadbare carpet in the room but it was light and had a nice, airey feeling to it thanks to the large windows at the front of the house.

“New carpet and a bit of paint…” Frank mused nodding, “Be good as new.”

She nodded eagerly, her eyes shining a she looked around and nodded at the fire place “Really, in Florida?”

“It gets cold, as you know.” he teased “Besides, we just fill it with some of your million candles or whatever…”

She nudged him and they turned around, David watching them.

“So, you’re obviously in the older part of the house that hasn’t really been touched apart from upstairs.” he explained, “But if you follow me I’ll show you the extension which is all new and, well, to be honest, I think it’s stunning.”

The three of them moved back into the hall and through a door at the end which led into a huge open plan kitchen and living area. The kitchen was gorgeous. Sleek white units, modern appliances, marble tops, a huge breakfast bar. Douchebag had clearly spent a fortune doing this up. The floor was a light grey and white laminate which David pointed out was heavy wearing. To the left of the kitchen area was a huge space where Frank could clearly picture their sofas and TV, and then just off that was a door which led into another smaller reception room, freshly painted and carpeted. He was just pondering how they could turn that into a play room when Fliss gave a gasp and nudged Frank pointing to the large bay window at the back which had been converted into a seating nook of sorts. They made their way over and saw that the view extended right over their garden highlighting a small pool area which was surrounded by a low set of railings with a gate that were all painted a glossy black. The pool itself was sparklingly clean and clearly brand new.

“Oh wow… “ Fliss mumbled, looking at the sand stone tiles that surrounded the area and the rest of the garden.

“Yeah the rear garden loops in an L round the house” David said. “There’s a larger fence around this area to keep it private and separate from the land at the front that runs flush to the yard area.”

Frank’s hands dropping to her hips as he nodded to the right “Could extend that little patio area for a table and chairs, maybe build a brick BBQ. Couple of sun-loungers for that bit at the back of the pool.”

She nodded eagerly before they headed back into the hallway they’d entered into where the realtor showed them the little room that was to the right as you came in the door which held a number of shelves and coat hooks and a toilet and sink basin. They then headed up stairs to find 4 bedrooms. The master extended down the entire side of the house overlooking the main yard area of Sandybrook. It needed some work, the plaster and paint was peeling away in some areas, but Frank wasn’t worried at that. It was an easy job. What he was pleased to see was that the rest of it was in good condition. There was a brand new en-suite attached to it, housing a toilet, a huge shower and his and hers sinks. The room also had built in wardrobes and huge ceiling to floor bi-folding doors which opened up onto a small balcony. Douchebag had clearly been focussing on the big jobs first before he got into the cosmetics, which Frank had to give him credit for.

The main bathroom was in between the wall of their en-suite and the next bedroom, both situated at the back of the house over the extension and overlooking the fields belonging to the yard. The plaster was fresh in that bedroom but hadn’t been painted, again, not an issue, because Frank knew a certain little miss would be no doubt picking a colour as soon a she spotted this room.

“Bet Mary chooses this one.” Frank said, voicing his thoughts and Fliss nodded, smiling

“I would if the Master didn’t have that en-suite.” she grinned “Look at that view!”

“Yeah, who’d have thought you could work from home in the equestrian business” he chuckled as they then headed to the next bedroom on the opposite side of the landing. This was also rather large, but like the main part of the master bedroom, was clearly one of the original two bedrooms the house had and it needed some updating.

The 4th bedroom was a smaller one up a narrow set of stairs hidden by door in the hallway. It opened up into an attic room which tucked into the roof of the house.

The realtor then led them back down and the out to the outbuildings. There was a huge garage with a half- finished apartment of sorts above it that had been used as storage but could be easily a guest suite if they so wanted, and then the thing Frank had really loved was the workshop off the side of the garage, accessed by a small door. It was musty and full of crap but was somewhere for him to store all his tools and work on any side projects he decided to pick up.

All in all Frank was finding it pretty damned hard to pick faults in the place.

As they headed back to the main house and Frank asked David politely to give them a moment to look around alone and he nodded eagerly before Frank and Fliss headed back into the house.

“I’m getting good vibes Sailor.” Fliss said as she turned round, looking at the kitchen, once more heading over to the bay window seat, “really good vibes.” she spun back to him and he smiled at the look on her face. “I mean, ok, a few rooms need decorating and there’s some finishing off bits to do all over but it’s nothing that dad can’t help with and I’m sure-“

At that she stopped dead, and gave a little gasp as her hand flew to her bump.

“You ok?” Frank stepped forward.

“Yeah he’s…” she swallowed “Bean’s kicking, Frankie! Quick!”

He reached out with his hand and she took it, pressing it to the side of her bump. After a second or two he felt something wriggle a little under his palm and he looked at Fliss, his face cracking into an open mouthed smile as he felt his son move for the first time.

“Lissy…” he swallowed his eyes misting over. “That’s…oh my God!”

“You should feel it from my POV!” Fliss smiled her own eyes glassy too.

Frank didn’t want to take his hand away. Instead, he kept moving his palm, tracking their baby’s movements when eventually they stopped.

“I think that means BB likes the house.” Fliss looked at him.

Frank scoffed, shaking his head. “BB’s Momma likes the house.”

“Doesn’t his Daddy?” she asked, her hands sliding round his neck.

“Yeah, his Daddy does.” he replied honestly in a low voice as he looked around the large room. “In fact, I like it a lot.”

“You think Mary will?”

“Are you kidding?” Frank snorted “Soon as she sees that view and that pool, she’ll be packing to move in straight away.”

“Suppose there’s only one way to find out.” Fliss smiled.

So they did. They brought Mary back the next day after school. She had squealed at the window seat, yelled about the pool and as she had shot upstairs and headed into the bedroom Frank had predicted she would like, given a jump for joy as she realised from the upstairs she had a view over the tall picket fencing that shielded the private area of the garden.

“I can see Monty!” she gleefully pointed out before turning to Frank and looking at him then to Fliss, her hands on her hips “If you don’t buy this house you’re a pair of dumbasses.”

The same sentiment was echoed by Bill when he turned up fifteen minutes or so later and walked around with Frank whilst Fliss and Mary headed to feed the horses. He did exactly the same thing he had done when they had looked at the apartment, pointed out what they needed to do, how long it should take them to do, rough estimates of cost. Plus, he also reminded Frank they were in a great position. They could buy the place and then give his months’ notice on the apartment meaning they could stay where they were until it was finished.

So that was it. Decision made. The next morning they went in with a cheeky offer, some twenty thou below the asking price which was rejected instantly. Then they upped their offer by five…then an additional three to total eight, with the fact that they were cash buyers and not in a chain a huge bargaining chip.

It was later that evening, just after they had finished dinner when the realtor called back.

“Evening Mr Adler, ok so…I have spoken to the vendor. He says if you can up your offer by another two thousand then you’ve got a deal.” David spoke. At that, Frank let out a huge grin, as he looked out of the kitchen window at Mary and Fliss who were outside the apartment, both sat on a chair round the table. He and Fliss had both agreed they were prepared to go to the full asking price, in their mind it was worth it, but they were about to seal the deal here for ten thousand less.

“Ok, two thousand more.” Frank said, keeping his voice level “But the property comes off the market as we don’t want anyone else spotting it and offering him more before we exchange contracts.” he repeated word for word what Greg had instructed him to do when he had asked him to handle the conveyancing earlier that morning.

“Ok, so the offer on the table is Three-ten on the proviso he grants exclusivity…” David repeated. “Ok, leave it with me.”

Frank finished loading the dishwasher, and had just grabbed himself a beer when David called back not even five minutes later.

“Congratulations Mr Adler, you have a deal.”

He thanked him, and grinning ear to ear headed outside, jumping down the steps onto the lawn.

“What you looking so pleased about?” Fliss looked up at him suspiciously.

“David called… we’ve settled on three-ten plus exclusivity” he smiled

“What, you mean…” Fliss’ mouth fell open and Frank nodded.

“Yup, subject to contracts, the place is ours!”

Mary gave a loud cheer as Fliss jumped up and leapt at him as he smiled, wrapping her in his arms, swinging her up slightly.

“I can’t believe it…” she whispered. “Our own home!”

“I know” he beamed, setting her down as he gave her a quick peck. “I’ll call Greg in the morning. When I talked to him about it he said that with no loans involved it shouldn’t take too long. We could be looking a having the keys in a month.” His hands dropped to her hips, palms resting either side of where his son was growing “So plenty of time to do his nursery.”

Fliss grinned and using the arms that were round his neck pulled his face down to hers and pressed a fierce kiss to his mouth. “God I love you.” she mumbled.

“Love you too.” he grinned, kissing her again, ignoring Mary’s fake puking noises in the background.

*****

June 2019

“Mr Adler?"

Frank stopped as he had been striding over the yard to collect Mary and turned to see Mrs McCarthy, her teacher walking towards him.

"Hi." He smiled, removing his sunglasses so he could look her in the eyes.

"I'm so sorry to bother you"

"No bother at all." He assured her "is everything OK?"

Mrs McCarthy glanced over to where Mary was stood talking to her friend, Rosie, and turned back to him

"Yes...nothing too drastic but I wanted to make you aware about a little incident in class this afternoon"

Frank looked at her, blinking "incident?"

"Maybe that's the wrong word." The older, blonde woman said "Look, as you know next week it's the end of year Gala, the fundraiser and we invite the parents to join us for activities.”

Frank nodded, wishing the woman would get to the damned point. He was hot, dirty and bothered after an afternoon of helping the team on a particularly awkward repair and wanted nothing more than to stand under a cold shower for an hour and flop down outside with a beer.

"Well, one of the girls asked Mary if she was bringing her mom and if they were making anything for the bake sale and Mary rather bluntly told the girl her mother was dead and then clammed up. She didn't speak a word for the rest of the afternoon."

Frank felt his chest tighten as he looked over at Mary who was now giggling with Rosie and sighed

"She didn't do anything wrong" Mrs McCarthy pressed "I was just a little worried."

"Thanks for letting me know, I'll talk to her later, make sure she's okay." Frank assured her.

The woman nodded and headed back across the yard as Frank gave a sharp whistle and slid his aviators back onto his face. Mary looked up and said goodbye to Rosie and came wandering over as Frank waved to Rosie's mom who tossed a hand in greeting in response.

"I'm not Thor" She fixed Frank with a stare.

"I know but I couldn't be bothered walking over." He replied honestly as they climbed into the truck

"You have a good day?"

"It was OK." She shrugged. Frank eyed her for a second before she pulled the car away from the kerb and set off down the road.

"What's for dinner?" Mary asked.

"Steak, baked potatoes and salad." He replies "Fliss' choice."

"Are you grilling?" Mary asked.

"Yup." He nodded

"Cool." Mary nodded "Can I go in the pool before?"

"Got any homework?" Frank countered with another question as he looked at her. Mary shook her head

“End of year next week and Uni didn't give me any summer work."

"Then yeah, of course you can.”

Frank didn't raise the so called incident, deciding to let her chill out a little bit at home first and digest how she felt. After 20 minutes or so of general chat Frank pulled up their driveway and stopped the truck next to Fliss' truck. As they hopped out Mary glanced across the garden over the smaller part of the fence where she could just see Fliss walking across the yard.

"Please can I go see Monty?" She looked at Frank and he nodded.

"I'll watch you." He agreed. With a grin she sprinted over the lawn, climbed over the fence and dropped over onto the other side. Thor gave a bark and Fliss turned round and smiled at her, before she waved at Frank. He waved back before he headed down the side of the house, through the gate in the larger fence before he unlocked the back door and stepped inside the cool air conditioned kitchen, kicking off his shoes and heading straight to the fridge for a beer. Draining half in one he stood, looking around and smiling. They’d finally unpacked the last box yesterday evening and Fliss was still in the process of moving things around their new home, positioning them where she wanted them.

True to Greg’s word, they’d had the keys to the house 4 and a half weeks after making the offer, and 2 weeks post that once the bedrooms and hall had been decorated with a lot of help from Bill, Verity and Roberta (who had been happy for them yet still cried her eyes out when they’d left the park, despite the fact they had assured her they would still come visit and she could also come stay with them too) they’d moved in. The only thing left to do was the reception room (which could wait, it was easy to just shut the door and pretend it didn’t exist) and Bean’s nursery, which he, Fliss and Mary had decided to do together as a project. Mary and Fliss had spent nights pouring over Pinterest for ideas and they’d finally settled on a scheme. Frank had picked up all the plastering supplies and the paint, the furniture was on order and should be arriving at any time that week now he thought about it…so hopefully that weekend they could get cracking. That might cheer Mary up now he thought about it.

Taking his beer with him, he picked up his boots and took them to the cloakroom/bathroom by the stairs. He trudged up the steps, shaking his head at Fred who was led at the top, his paws hanging over the edge of the step as he eyed Frank.

"You're gonna cause a fucking accident." He looked at the ginger cat who merely swished his tail in response. Frank headed into their bedroom, stripping off as he went, walking straight into the en-suite, turning on the shower, setting his beer down on the edge of the sink unit. He stepped in and under the stream of cool water, closing the screen behind him, his mind still on Mary and how he was going to bring up what her teacher has said. With a groan he opened the door, reached out of the cubicle for his beer, took another gulp before he set about washing the grime of the day away.

***** "Have you finished grooming him?" Fliss asked, standing in the doorway to Monty's stable. Mary glanced over from where she had been brushing through his white tail and nodded.

"Wanna take him to the paddock?" Fliss smiled. "Cap and Bronson are waiting for their little pal."

"Sure." Mary shrugged and Fliss frowned a little at her demeanour. She was quiet, which was unlike her when she was round the horses. She was normally full of excitement.

"You OK?" She asked and Mary nodded.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem quiet, that's all."

"No, I'm good." She shrugged, before she tossed her brush into the little grooming box she had, closing the lid and passing it to Fliss. Fliss placed the box into the larger wooden one outside the stable before Mary put Monty's halter on and led him out of his stall. Fliss allowed them to walk ahead, her hand on her bump as she followed them out of the yard and down the little path to the gate that led to the paddocks. They reached the one were Monty was going and undoing the gate, Mary led him in. The white pony stood patiently for her to take his halter off before he stuck his nose into the crook of her neck and shoulder. Fliss smiled as Mary gently stroked his neck and then to her utter horror she saw Mary’s shoulders begin to shake as the girl started to cry.

"Hey, Mary..." she soothed, stepping forward as the small girl turned to her, wrapping her arms around her as best she could, pressing her face into her bump "Oh baby what's wrong?"

Mary didn’t reply, instead she continued to sob and Fliss felt powerless to do anything other than wrap her arms around her, one hand resting on her head, the other between her shoulders.

“Something happened at School…” Mary whispered and Fliss gently tipped her head up to look at her. “Someone said something and…”

“Ok, how about we go back to the office and you can tell me all about it ok?”

Mary nodded, sniffing as her sobs died down. Fliss held out her hand and Mary took it and together they headed back down to the yard. Joanne looked at Mary who was hiccupping slightly with her sobs and frowned but Fliss shook her head.

“Can you feed the top barn for me and then you can go.” she said to Jo who nodded. “I’ll lock up.” “Sure, see you tomorrow. Bye Mary.” she smiled. Mary looked at her and gave a small wave before Fliss led her into the office. She grabbed them both an apple juice from the fridge and then Mary sat on the chair at the end of the desk, wiping her eyes with a tissue that Fliss handed her from the box.

“You ready to talk?”

Mary nodded, and then she stood up and walked over to Fliss who made room for her to clamber up onto her lap. It was a bit awkward but after a little shifting around they found a way she could sit unobstructed by Boston Bean and Mary lay her head against Fliss’ shoulder.

“It was about the gala.” she sniffed “One of them asked me if my mom was coming and…”

“Oh sweetie.” Fliss sighed, rubbing her back. “I get that must have been hard.”

Mary shrugged “I told them she was dead.” she said matter of factly “I get that and I never knew my mom so I don’t miss her as a person…but then I started to think about why she died and I don’t understand.” “Understand what?”

“Why?” Mary looked at her. “Why would she do what she did when she had me? Why did she want to leave me behind?”

Fliss took a deep breath and cradled the girl as best she could, trying to think of a way to explain to which Mary could relate, and then it came to her, she could use her own experience here. There was no getting around the fact this was going to be a heave conversation, but Mary was a smart kid and deserved to be treated as such.

With another deep inhale, Fliss looked down at her, kissing her head before she opened rather bluntly "You know I tried to kill myself."

"You did?" Mary pulled back to look up at her "Why?"

"Because I saw it as my only way out." Fliss gently smoothing Mary’s hair back. "I was stuck in an awful situation. My ex-husband hurt me physically and mentally and I gave up. I wanted out."

Mary remained silent and looked at her.

"For someone to get to that point...they have to have hit rock bottom. Like there is nowhere to go. It's not their fault. And it doesn't mean they don't love the people they leave behind just that they're desperate to escape whatever pain they feel, be it in their head or their body or both."

"But I still don't understand." Mary shook her head.

"And you may never, not fully." Fliss sighed gently "And as horrible as it is that's something you are gonna have to live with but you have to remember that your mom was sick. And for whatever reason she saw this as her only escape. It wasn't Evelyn's fault, it wasn't Frank's fault and it certainly wasn't yours."

"But if she loved me like Frank says she did..."

"You think I don't love my mum and dad? Or Steve? Charlie, Joel?"

Mary blinked before she lay her head back against Fliss' shoulder. "Of course you do.”

"But I was still gonna leave them behind. I was desperate. And you wanna know the real stupid thing?"

"What?"

"When I got better I still went back to John. I went back to a real toxic environment and a man that abused me. Because I felt like it was what I deserved. And even though I left him way before I met you and Frank, it wasn't until me and Frank started dating that I really understood I wasn't to blame. I always thought I did something to make him hurt me but I didn't. Being with Frank, the way he treats me and loves me made me see that it was him with the problem, not me.”

"But that's different" Mary glanced up

"The trigger was, yes." Fliss nodded "But your mom, like me, was in a position so helpless, so unbelievably sad that she thought she was to blame and that the world, including you, would be better off without her even though she was so wrong."

**** Once showered and dried, Frank dressed in a pair of shorts and clean T-shirt before he headed back downstairs. There was no sign of Fliss or Mary but as he strode out into the garden he heard a car heading down the drive by the side of the house from the yard and correctly assumed it was Joanne leaving for the day. He opened the gate and just saw the tail of her car turn onto the main road as he headed into the garage for the charcoal to light the BBQ.

Once that was done, leaving the flames to die down he headed out across the lawn, vaulting over the small fence onto the yard. He headed round the barn and frowned as he couldn't see anyone. After a quick look round he spotted the door to Fliss' office was closed. He went to open it but stopped as he could hear the sound of voices. It was Mary and Fliss but he could tell from the pitch and stutters in Mary's that she was upset. He paused, hand hovering over the handle as he heard Fliss speaking to her softly. "Stack, you are so loved. Frank loves you, I love you, Nanny V, Poppa Bill, Uncle Steeby, Roberta, Evelyn...Thor, Fred and Monty..." she paused "You're such a special little girl and I know I'm not your mom but, well, I feel like I am."

"You do?"

"I'd do anything to keep you safe and happy. And so would Frank"

They both fell silent and Frank swallowed, the lump in his throat almost choking him.

"Don't ever feel like we don't" Fliss continued "and if I have to bake 200 fucking cookies for your Gala next week to prove it then I will."

Mary giggles "You know Bean can hear you swearing."

"Well I won't tell Frank if you don't"

"Do you think Frank feels like my dad?" Mary asked a moment later and at that point Frank really wanted to walk away. He couldn't listen to this, he didn't want to listen to this...but something kept him rooted to the spot.

"I know he does." Fliss replied.

"But he doesn't like it when people say it. I know that, I heard him talking to you. Bill’s not your real dad but you still say he is…."

“That’s slightly different sweetheart.” Fliss sighed "My real dad left my mom before I was born, so when he died. I didn’t even know him and I don’t care that I didn’t either. But your mom was Frank's sister. He wants to make sure you remember her, understand who she was. He could have easily just pretended to be your dad all this time, you would never have known any different but he didn't. Because he loves you and your mom too much. He's too honest and it’s important to him that you understand. But that doesn't mean he doesn't love you like he is your dad, or that you can't love him like he is."

Frank turned away from the door, looking up at the sky and taking a deep shuddering breath. Fuck, this was hard to hear. He knew Mary had been upset before but the thought that it ran this deep was killing me. Wiping at his face, his hands then dropped to his hips and he looked down at his sneakers before he turned to the door, reaching for the handle but once more pausing as he couldn’t face interrupting them, not whilst they were in the middle of a moment.

“I suppose that makes sense.” Mary continued “And I do love him like he is. And I love you like you’re my mom too.”

“Well that’s all that matters.” Fliss replied “It may be unconventional but we’re a family, and that’s the main thing huh?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks Lissy.” Mary spoke.

“You’re welcome Stack” Fliss’s voice was soft and there was a pause as Frank could picture the pair of them hugging.

“Hey, did you now I’m going to be doing all the money stuff for the bake stall?” Mary’s voice was suddenly up beat as she switched topic “Because I’m good at maths they said I could be in charge of payments and handing people their change and stuff.”

“Nice work kiddo.” Fliss smiled, “Tell you what, we’ll put Nanny V on the case, her baking is way better than mine. We can get her over one night next week whilst Pops is helping Frank with the plastering in the nursery.”

Ok, that was it, safe to enter without interrupting anything. Frank gave a little knock and then opened the door, fixing a smile on his face.

“Hope I haven’t interrupted any girl talk” he smiled and Mary jumped up and ran to him, giving him a hug. He looked at Fliss who wiped her eyes.

“Ok?” he mouthed at her and she nodded back, her lips moving silently as she replied.

“Tell you later.”

“BBQ is lit.” Frank said, looking down at Mary “You still wanna play in the pool?”

She nodded and grinned. “Yeah.”

“Sounds like a great idea.” Fliss grinned “Let’s lock up and head home…oh wait, we don’t need to head home because…” “We’re already there!” Mary grinned, and then she spun round to see Fred peering round the door. “Hey, look who came to visit!” “Bout time he earned his keep.” Frank grumbled “Go catch some mice.”

Fred stalked past him into the office, looked around, before he sauntered back out, clearly not interested.

“He’s a lover not a killer Frank.” Mary grinned, as Frank watched the cat walk off into the evening sun.

The three of them locked up before they headed back to the house and Mary shot upstairs to get changed.

“So, how much did you hear?” Fliss turned to Frank as he pulled a beer from the fridge along with a bottle of water, sliding it over to her.

“Enough.” he sighed “Her teacher collared me before. Said that one of the kids had asked about her mom in class and she’d gotten upset.”

“She asked me why Diane did what she did.” Fliss sighed, “Why she left her behind if she loved her so much.”

Frank swallowed. “What did you say?”

“I explained about why I tried to kill myself.” Fliss shrugged “Told her about the desperation I felt…but that didn’t mean that I didn’t love my family just that I saw it as my only way out. I know it was heavy and maybe not really the right thing to do but...”

She was cut off as Frank stepped forward, taking her face in his hands as he kissed her, hard. It took her a moment to catch up but once she did she melted into him, her mouth opening to grant him access as he ran his tongue along her bottom lip.

“Thank you.” He said gently as he pulled away, his hands still cupping her face.

“What for?” Fliss asked, reaching up to gently wrap her fingers around his wrists.

“For loving her as much as you do.” he shrugged. “For loving us both as much as you do.”

“Oh, Sailor.” Fliss’ eyes brimmed with tears “How could I not?”

***** Frank didn’t sleep particularly well that night. Mary’s conversation with Fliss was running through his brain and every time he drifted off he would wake about an hour or so later, fresh worries and concerns running through his mind. In the end, at just before 5 am he gave up and climbed out of bed. He grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of sweats and putting them on he headed downstairs. He flipped on the TV in the hope the early morning new would distract him, but it didn’t.

It was clear to him that Mary was struggling with where she was going to fit in the family dynamic. He hadn’t really worried much up to that point, being convinced by Fliss that if they kept her involved with stuff to do with Bean she would be ok but this went much deeper than the fact they were expecting a baby.

He’d be lying if he said the thought of him claiming to be Mary’s Father had never entered his mind. It would have been a lot easier but out of loyalty and love to Diane he had wanted to make sure she knew about her mother, and understood the truth because in the end, a lie would always come round to bite you on the ass. It wasn’t that he had a problem with people assuming he was Mary’s father but…

God what a fucking mess.

“Hey…” a soft voice drew him from his thoughts and he looked up to see Fliss stood in the doorway, his T-shirt she was wearing now hardly covered the top of her thighs thanks to her Bean bump.

“Sorry beautiful, did I wake you?” he asked.

“No.” she shook her head, dropping down next to him. “I got up to pee and you were gone.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” he shrugged.

“What’s wrong handsome?” she lay her head on his shoulder and he took a deep breath.

“Just thinking about Mary that’s all.” he shrugged. “She’s always asked questions about Diane but not like that.”

“She’s getting older Frank.” Fliss said, her hand reaching out for his as she began to play with his fingers “She’s bound to start thinking about things differently. She was ok last night after she talked to me, and then later you when you tucked her in. She doesn’t keep her feelings bottled up, and that’s good. It’s a testament to you that she feels like she can talk to us about things.”

“I know.” Frank looked down at her, kissing her head “I guess I just worry Lissy, worry about how she’s gonna feel when Bean is here and he’s calling us mom and dad and she doesn’t.”

“Frank.” Fliss sighed as she sat up straight. “Mary knows we love her. And what she calls us doesn’t change a damned thing. You’re worrying unduly now. We can’t do anything about that other than-“

“Yes, yes we could.” Frank looked at her. Fliss took a deep breath as his eyes locked onto hers, instantly understanding.

“I thought you said you’d never even consider adopting her?”

“I never thought I would.” he shrugged. “But it’s been playing on my mind after what mother said and then after last night…” “Why? What did Evelyn say?” Fliss asked.

“When she was here last, she told me that Diane’s memory wouldn’t suddenly fade if Mary called me dad…” he licked his lips “It was almost like she was giving me permission to do it…you know? Not that I need it or really give a shit what she thinks.” he paused, taking a deep breath “If I’m totally honest Diane isn’t the only reason I said I didn’t want to. I just never thought of myself as being dad material. I was such a screw up until I met you and I thought that by staying as her Uncle, it would give her that distance, you know?”

“Not dad material?” Fliss looked at him, shaking her head “Oh Frank, you idiot. You’ve done an amazing job with her…and you will do with Bean too.”

He smiled at her, sniffing slightly as she continued.

“But there is one person who’s opinion counts most here.” Fliss said gently “And that’s Mary. If you’re serious then you should ask her if it’s what she wants. Because after 9 years of calling you Frank…”

“I know.” Frank agreed, “And I agree, completely. It would have to be her decision. But at least if I ask her if she would like us to then-“

“Us?” Fliss looked at him, blinking. “You mean you want me to?”

“Of course I do.” Frank nodded, before he frowned slightly “But if that isn’t what you want, I understand. It’s a big-“ Fliss cut him off by pressing a kiss to his lips “Of course I do Frank. I love Mary like she is my own anyway so…” Frank beamed at her and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her head. “So, we’re agreed. We ask her?”

Fliss nodded and pulled back, her hand resting on his cheek. “We ask her.”

Chapter 8

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x oc #gifted #gifted fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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