“Have you ever been in love?”
The question seems to take Evan by surprise. “What?”
Barty repeats the question, shifting up into a sitting position. His hands dig into the ground, still damp from last night’s rain. “Have you ever been in love?”
There’s a beat of silence. Then, looking down at his feet, Evan quietly answers, “Yes.”
Suddenly, Barty is mad at himself for asking. He can’t even say why he asked in the first place; he simply had the thought, and being the impulsive person he is, he asked without thinking. Now he wishes he hadn’t, if only to have avoided this odd burning in his chest caused by Evan’s answer. And really, he should drop the topic, based on downcast tint to Evan’s response, but he can’t seem to let it go. So instead, he presses the issue.
“When?” he asks, looking intently at Evan.
At that, Evan looks to his left, purposely avoiding eye contact with Barty. He stubs out his cigarette on the grass next to him, a thin curl of smoke rising up from it as he does so. “A long, long time ago.” His voice is dark with something Barty can’t name.
“Did it end well?”
Evan cuts him a look. “Who said it ended?”
At his words, something twists inside Barty. Suddenly there’s a lump in his throat as he works to get out his next sentence. “Well, you said a long time ago. So I thought that it was a, uh, past thing.”
“Yeah. It was a long time ago. When I… fell in love.”
Barty knows he’s the one who started this conversation, but he really hates the way Evan says love in reference to some mystery person. At least he used past tense, though, meaning it’s a thing of the past.
“So what happened?” Barty questions.
“They didn’t want me in the way I wanted them. Still don’t want me that way.” There’s something bitter in Evan’s tone, and he’s gone back to refusing to look at Barty. In contrast, Barty stares at him intently. He feels as though he’ll be able to see through Evan’s exterior and into his insides, where all his secrets are hidden, if he only looks hard enough.
“Who was it?”
“Does it matter?” Evan’s voice is biting as he sharply turns his head back towards Barty.
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Barty leans back onto his elbows, tearing his gaze from Evan. It’s almost comical how their positions have changed; now, Evan stares at Barty, and Barty looks out over the lake in an effort to avoid his gaze.
“It was no one important, okay?”
“Oh.” Something settles in Barty when he hears that, even if Evan’s tone contrasts with his dismissive words. “They were—still are—an idiot, though. Just for the record.”
Evan laughs in that disbelieving way of his, as if he’s sharing an inside joke with himself. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Barty says definitively. “I mean, you’re perfect. And whoever can’t see that is an idiot.”
“Perfect?”
“Yup.” Barty means it, too.
“Yeah, well,” Evan scoffs, “it isn’t good enough for them. So it doesn’t matter.”
“Well, you’re good enough for me,” Barty says hotly. “So don’t worry about that asshole. Because and me? We’re best friends, and you’ll always be good enough for me. You know that, right?”
Evan is avoiding Barty’s gaze again. He picks at the grass next to him, focusing on that instead. “Right,” he says somewhat bitterly.
“I mean it,” Barty insists. “You are.”
Evan looks at him, smiling sadly. “Thanks, Bee. But it’s getting cold. I think I’ll head back inside if that’s all right with you.”
“I—okay. Yeah, uh, sure.”
With that, Evan gets up and begins the walk back to the castle. Barty watches him go, thinking their entire exchange over.
He’s not entirely sure where the conversation went sour enough to get Evan to leave, but clearly something must’ve caused his abrupt departure. Even if Barty had thought he had said the right things to get Evan to cheer up again. He had meant what he said, too; Evan always would be good enough for him. Barty honestly couldn’t imagine a better best friend.
So Evan shouldn’t, Barty thinks heatedly, have ever been hung up on some asshole who couldn’t even see how amazing he is.
Barty continues to sit there, close to the shore of the lake, and watches Evan’s retreating form. And as he watches Evan reach up to wipe at his eyes, trying and failing to act like it was nonchalant gesture, he resolves to find out who Evan was talking about. And he’s going to make them, whoever it may be, pay for how they hurt Barty’s best friend.
166 notes
·
View notes
No you dont understand listen. listen. the hand. the HAND.
yes for a few moments aziraphale kissed back, held him, steadied him, but have you ever thought about what that did to crowley?
he feels aziraphale's palm press against his shoulder, feels him reciprocate the kiss, all he experiences in that moment is him, entirely and exclusively. his world narrows down even further to aziraphale, to him and just him.
for that heartbeat, that split second of oh, crowley hopes.
he hopes that maybe aziraphale changed his mind, this is it, they will stay on earth together, be together, be an us. everything he has ever wanted (which, let's be real, is aziraphale safe and by his side) is suddenly an option because he is kissing me back.
and then he stops. the hand lifts. he pulls back and that tiny, fragile spark of hope burns hot enough to destroy itself, any evidence erased when aziraphale looks at him and offers forgiveness - to crowley, he is offering forgiveness for loving him, telling him to stop, and that is the final crack that breaks him.
yet the last physical memory crowley will carry with him now is one of love and warmth and life, but all it symbolizes is a loss greater than anything he has every experienced.
407 notes
·
View notes
before sleeping. [isagi yoichi x reader]
notes: the thought process here is hehe isagi and then isagi sure gets feral sometimes and then hey feral is biting right and then i postponed my sleeping schedule for this. this guy is midnight madness inducer. if the first paragraph isnt clear enough. no warning except yeah this is a total fluff despite the prompt. established relationship, post canon / pro-player! isagi.
Isagi Yoichi is a genuinely nice person. A really good boyfriend with a normal and nice family, an excellent career in soccer—an overall green flag that also comes with good communication skill. His downside would probably be his soccer obsession, but if one looks from the right angle it would become a charm point along with his occasional clumsiness on other field other than his beloved sport.
Case in point, Isagi Yoichi is a normal guy, most of the time.
“Can I bite you?”
With that being said, it wouldn’t be your fault to be surprised when he suddenly asked this when the two of you were already in sleeping attires.
It was almost midnight and you were dressed in Yoichi’s old t-shirt, baggy and too large for the both of you to wear. Beside you, Yoichi already lied on his side to face you and ready to be asleep, considering the 12 hours jet lag he was supposed to be having. Yet, with his big blue eyes, he stared directly towards yours—whose are sleepy, heavy, and definitely tired.
You, who froze midway in your way to cover yourself with a blanket, blinked for a few times with your mouth slightly agape. Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to process what Yoichi just said. After a few moments of silence, you finally found your voice again, “…I thought… we are about to sleep…?”
“Yeah,” Yoichi answered simply. “But, like, can I bite you? Just once?”
You could only blink once again. Was this some leftover adrenaline high from his winning goal? You knew how Yoichi becomes a bit of someone else whenever he became excited or on a high tension—but it never really came out of blue. Especially at home like this.
Confused, you could only said, “Huh. Wow.”
In respond, Yoichi parroted both your confusion and noise, “Huh? Wow?”
“I mean,” you began to try to explain, slowly feeling your sleepiness wanning off. “That sure came out of nowhere.”
A dumb and blank expression appeared on Yoichi’s face upon hearing your words. Then, it took a mere second before it shifted into one that is full of panic and bashfulness. Yoichi immediately pushed his body to sit along with you as both his hands shook in front of him, “Oh—uh! I mean—It’s just that I look at you in that shirt and just—!”
“It’s not bad, or anything. It was just sudden,” you said, eyes fixed on his sheepish gestures. “It’s not everyday you just blurt things like that at home.”
Yoichi laughed nervously and suddenly seemed to find an interest in the crease of your shared blanket. You let him took his time to continue meanwhile you lied down to your sleeping position. As you finally covered yourself in blanket, Yoichi followed you, embarrassment still dyeing his face, “It’s, uh, I think I missed you a bit too much this time?” Yoichi said, unsure.
You chuckled as you already warped your whole body in blanket, “Playing the sweet words now, huh?”
“It’s not like that!” Yoichi insisted whilst shifting his position for a few times, trying to find comfort. “Like, I also don’t really understand why, but it’s like I really want to bite you. But like positively, in a very ‘I love you’ kind of way?”
At his wording, you found yourself smiling with a soft, unvoiced chortles bubbling inside your stomach. Even in a confusing sentence, the way he just said ‘I love you’ so easily yet earnestly really did things to your heart. You knew that this one was fueled by Yoichi’s own nervousness and confusion—yet still, it felt as genuine as he always is.
“Well,” you paused, pretending to be in a thought, before continuing. “Where do you even want to bite?”
This time, it was Yoichi’s turn to freeze. “Uh. I didn’t think that far.”
As you failed to swallow your laughs, you patted his head, “Now, now, isn’t my Mr. Striker’s head tired? Let’s do the biting and everything else tomorrow, ‘kay?”
Yoichi’s expression soften at your words and pats. Your fingers slowly moved, gently tracing the outlines of his face, and Yoichi’s bashfulness return with a look he kept only for you, “…fine.”
You nodded, smiles still in your face as you closed your eyes and drifted to sleep. Knowing Isagi Yoichi, he probably just thought that you were way too tired and chose sleep out of consideration. How sweet, truly.
But, also this is Isagi Yoichi and he never knows when to give up. With one last offering, he wrapped his hand around your back, “Can I hug you for the whole night, at least, though?”
“Sure, sure, Mr. Egoist. Aren’t you clingy today, huh?”
357 notes
·
View notes