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#library date
optimistic-nihilist · 3 months
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autumneverleigh · 1 year
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idk i just wanna sit in a dark library at night in the candlelight wearing an oversized sweater and exchange glances over my book to my lover while the rain pours outside and feel at peace with the world
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kozukenbsf · 1 year
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“Books are where things are explained to you; life is where things aren’t. I’m not surprised some people prefer books.”
-Julian Barnes
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I might look okay on the outside but on the inside, I want to go on a library date
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luciferslilith7 · 3 months
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om-is-ok · 1 year
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Library date with you <3
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Let's read each other's eyes instead of books <3
Let's write on each other's palm by fingers.
Let's smile and blush while showing each other our favorite scenes of different books <3
Let's sneak kiss when no one is looking.
Let's hold hands and lock our fingers while reading.
Let's hide in the corner and enjoy our silence.
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manincaffeine · 9 months
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In the era of clubbing , let's just sit together watch the rain, hold hands, have endless talk and call it a date?
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slutsukio · 3 months
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study date. (bf!armin x blk!femreader)
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in the heart of academia, where the fragrance of knowledge lingered, you and armin ventured into the sacred realm of the campus' library, bright and early─ 5 o'clock in the morning to be precise. the atmosphere was charged with the palpable anticipation of impending final exams, a collective buzz of students immersed in the rigors of preparations for a plethora of upcoming tests. amidst this sea of focused scholars your eyes met a diverse array of individuals engrossed in their respective studies.
the daunting task that loomed before you and armin was the mastery of ASL by the approaching monday. while both of you possessed a foundational understanding of the basics ─ the fluid conversations, the nuanced expressions, and the art of signing in tandem with spoke words ─the nerve-wracking reality emerged from the knowledge that seven seasoned and professional sign language interpreters would scrutinize your skills and presentations.
in the light of this challenge, the hours unfolded as a crucible of dedication and meticulous practice. each minute, you and armin delved deeper into the intricacies of ASL, refining your signs and perfecting the synchronicity of your expressions. the library, once merely a backdrop for academic exploration, transformed into a haven for the relentless pursuit of linguistic finesse.
as the hours progressed, the weight of the imminent presentation hung in the air, motivating both of you to strive for nothing short of perfection. the goal was clear ─ to deliver a flawless performance that would not only showcase your proficiency in ASL but also captivate the attention of those seven discerning interpreters.
the clock had barely struck noon when you and armin decided to take a respite from your intensive study session, finding a quiet alcove amidst the library's towering shelves. releasing a contented sigh that resonated with the weight of a momentary relaxation, you indulged in a luxuriously deep stretch, your body unwinding like a cast basking in the warmth of the sun.
as your muscles surrendered to the stretch, you shifted your gaze toward armin, a genuine smile playing upon your lips, a manifestation of the unspoken joy derived from the simplicity of the moment. with an appreciative glint in your eyes, you deliberately took in the details of his features─ the sun-kissed strands of his blonde hair, the depth of his cerulean eyes that held a multitude of stories, and the subtle allure of his soft pink lips.
observing the rosy hue that painted his cheeks in the aftermath of maintaining prolonged eyes contact, you couldn't help but notice the subtle yet undeniable impact it had on him; a silent exchange that lingered in the air like an unspoken connection. the shared laughter that followed echoes with the resonance of newfound understanding, a bridge of camaraderie spanning the distance between you. in the wake of this unspoken exchange, a question lingered on the tip on your tongue, and as you parted your lips, you felt the weight of curiosity intermingled with the delicate dance of unspoken words.
in the cocoon of that tranquil pause, you breached the subject of mutual aquaintances, "how's connie doing these days? i heard about what happened at the game, sasha told me, and i heard he popped his leg out of place. is he better?" the concern in your inquiry echoed through the air, a testament to the bonds that tethered your lives together and the genuine interest you held for the well-being of your friends.
armin released a heavy sigh, the weight of concern evident in the furrow of his brow and the weariness that seemed to settle on his shoulders, prompting him to scoot his chair closer to the table, running his fingers through his silky hair, he began to unravel the table of a recent mishap, unfolding a narrative of injury that went far beyond a mere inconvenience.
"the doctor had to pop it back in place," armin disclosed, his voice carrying the echo of empathy for connie, "and he has to walk with crutches for the next three weeks." the gravity of the situation hung in the air, casting a somber shadow over the room. armin, who continued to relay the complete picture, continued, "then, on top of all that stuff, he has to do physical therapy before he can even entertain the thought of being back on the field."
as armin shared this intricate web of challenges and setbacks, you couldn't contain the spontaneous "damn," that slipped through the air like an unintentional sigh. this unexpected outburst, accompanied by a chuckle that escaped your lips, lingered in the atmosphere, a momentary lapse in the gravity of armin's narrative that perhaps wasn't needed at that exact juncture. realizing the time of your reaction, you quickly offered a sheepish apology, "sorry." the word woven with a sincerity but also a half-assed awkward laugh, seeking to mend the delicate fabric of the conversation.
in response, a soft smirk danced onto armin's face, a subtle acknowledgement that, despite the seriousness of the shared tales, your momentary lapse had added a touch of unexpected levity to the exchange. "well, boohoo for him," you continued, your voice taking on a playfully dismissive tone as you sought to downplay the weight of armin's challenges. "like i always say, it aint none of my business-" your sentence hung in the air, poised to continue, but before you could add another layer to your commentary, a sassy ahem cut through the air, the unmistakable sound of the librarian's disapproval punctuating the moment with a touch of stern interruption.
the librarian's gaze, sharp as the edge of a well-worn book, fell upon them— a silent warning echoing through the air and casting an almost tangible aura of disapproval. feeling the weight of that stern scutiny, you exchanged a perplexed look with armin, your eyes seeking answers within the depths of his expression. turning back to the librarian, a subtle ballet of facial expressions unfolded— your eyebrows knit together in a quizzical fashion, followed by a dismissive eyeroll that conveyed a mix of frustration and nonchalance. with a dismissive shake of your head, you refocused your attention on armin, seamlessly resuming your conversation with him despite the looming disapproval.
undeterred by your nonchalant disregard, the librarian, an imposing figure draped in an air of authority, advanced toward your secluded corner. her disapproving gaze now took on a vocal form as she delivered a speech about the perceived disrespect you two were displaying, disrupting the studious ambiance for other diligent students. despite your strategic position tucked away from the prying ears of your fellow scholars, the librarian seemed determined to voice her disapproval.
as she embarked on her lecture, you prepared a retort, ready to stand your ground against the unjust accusation. "first and foremost-" you began, a spark of defiance in your eyes. however, armin, ever the voice of reason, interjected, offering a sincere apology in a bid to diffuse the escalating tension and avoid further trouble.
the librarian, though not entirely convinced, graced you both with a half-hearted smile before waddling away, a symbolic retreat but with lingering scrutiny, watching over you like a vigilant dog guarding its territory. seizing the momentary reprieve, you kicked armin's leg, a clandestine exchange in the aftermath of the librarian's watchful gaze.
in the tense silence, you dared to challenge the silence. you signed to armin, "that strict bitch got me fucked up." your fingers moving with precision. armin cracked a smile, and a soft laugh, before it was contained with his serious face— which he could not hold. a daring comment on the librarian's serious countenance elicited the first whispers of shared laughter.
armin, his expressive hands translating his thoughts into graceful features, embarked on signing soliloquy, articulating the depth of your disdain towards the librarian and how he found it both audacious and amusing. even as he chastised you for the audacity of your words— well in this case, signs, —a subtle symphony of amusement played on his lips, manifesting as a soft chuckle that gracefully danced through the air with each sign, weaving together the threads of his disapproval and shared amusement.
your frustration bubbled over as you signed back to him, a clear expression of discontent etched across your face, "i don't care how mean it is, she should've waddled her saggy-titty ass over to those kids over there who're munching so loudly you can hear it from a mile away." the intensity of your annoyance was palpable, yet a paradoxical twist of humor tugged at the corners of your lips as your fingers signed your frustration.
in the midst of your evident frustration, a peculiar phenomenon unfolded – laughter, like an unexpected gust of wind, swept through the solemnity of the moment. the dichotomy between your exasperation and the absurdity of the situation struck a chord, and an involuntary laugh escaped your lips. this unexpected release triggered a domino effect onto armin, who, caught in the whirlwind of conflicting emotions, joined you in a symphony of laughter.
hands instinctively rose to cover faces and mouths, desperately attempting to stifle the burgeoning laughter, but it proved futile. laughter, contagious and unrestrained, echoed through the air like a rebellious melody. in the shared absurdity of the moment, you and armin found yourselves caught in a loop of hilarity, your attempts to quell the laughter only intensifying its persistence. the library, a bastion of silence, momentarily surrendered to the raucous symphony of mirth you both unwittingly orchestrated.
as the librarian, her patience threads worn thin, strode over to our secluded corner, the air in the library seemed to tense, much like the yellowed pages of a time-worn volume about to surrender to the weight of ages. with a demeanor as stern as the rigid silence she enforced, she brought her presence to bear on our animated study session. in a moment, akin to the snap of an old volume's spine yielding to the passage of countless readings, her restraint unraveled.
the second warning followed swiftly, a non-negotiable decree delivered with the eloquence of a stern flick of her fingers. it marked the abrupt end of our scholarly haven, and you and armin found yourselves unceremoniously expelled from the temple of quiet learning. the librarian, a harbinger of order in this sanctuary of knowledge, insisted on our immediate departure, scolding us for the transgression of laughter in her sacred space of silence.
as we gathered our belongings, a ripple of amusement still clinging to our senses, you and armin exchanged glances. you, sprawled on the floor in a fit of uncontrollable laughter, and armin, tears streaming down his face from the unexpected hilarity of the disrespectful moment, shared a moment of connection amidst the chaos. in that shared gaze, the laughter echoed louder than the librarian's reprimand, transcending the confines of the library's strict decorum and etching a memory of a rebellious, yet delightful, escape from the temple of silence.
beyond the weighty portals of the library, liberation unfolded with a saccharine taste, and the resonance of their laughter, akin to a clandestine elixir, cascaded through the echoing corridors. in the shadowy recesses, you and armin, you guys' backs pressed against the frigid walls, imbibed the bitter-sweet irony of their ejection from the sanctum of silence. the solemnity of scholarly pursuit clashed harmoniously with the exuberant and indomitable spirit of youth.
"perhaps," armin mused, his voice a thoughtful cadence, "we might find solace in a locale less draconian in its demand for silence." he delicately wiped away the remnants of laughter-induced tears, exhaling a deep sigh that metamorphosed into an affable smile, a blend of mirth and contemplation.
in response, you, still caught in the remnants of amusement, nodded with a grace that echoed understanding. "a haven where the librarian of knowledge not only tolerates but appreciates the symphony of humor might be our refuge." a melodic chuckle escaped your lips, harmonizing with the lingering echoes of laughter, as you embarked on a leisurely stroll down the corridor, transforming the expulsion from the library into a vibrant and enlightening chapter in your unconventional yet knowledge-filled study session.
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❁ suki speaking — fun study session with armin, followed with lots of laughter and scolding!! this was fun to write ngl. the longest oneshot i ever wrote. ts was 2k words, hell. this was meant for neso + all the armin fanboys / fangirls, and his ass better ready every one of these 2,017 words. ok byee guys, im gna go work on my ocs now :3.
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bearsoriano · 1 year
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looking forward to it 🥼💉🩺
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natsuki208 · 3 months
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Just looking at this GIF makes me imagine a modern AU where the two of them are on a library date, checking out any books that catch their eyes. While Grell goes on and on about how some of the stories fascinate her, Sebastian just stares and listens to her rambling - wondering why he ever thought of agreeing to this in the first place. 😔
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starker-sorbet · 4 months
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Library date
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jazzstarrlight · 2 years
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Lumity - First Valentines day
Research in the human realm takes a romantic turn. Lol.
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kozukenbsf · 1 year
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This was another of our fears: that life wouldn't turn out to be like literature
- Julian Barnes
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thehobbitchronicles · 11 months
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away-ward · 6 months
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Pursuit
Summary: Will was supposed to pick Emory up from the library for their first date, but a storm killed the power before he got there. And now everyone is missing. And maybe that was his plan all along.
Set in December after the Homecoming dance; Canon-Divergent.
Disclaimer: general OOC-ness as my writing style is different from PD's.
Emory
I shifted, the old plastic chair creaking with the movement. The noises of the library – hushed whispered, footsteps muffled by industrial carpet, book carts with squeaky wheels – fell silent about thirty minutes ago as it got closer to closing time. Those sounds provided comfort - background noise for me to complete my homework. Today, I was too distracting. My eyes drifted to the clock on the wall more often as the night wore on.
Uncontrollably, my eyes darted up again. Still fifteen minutes before Will would be here.
I clicked my pen repeatedly and licked my lips, forcing my eyes to return to the open book. I read the first two lines of text for the eight billionth time, but still -
Would this be our first legitimate date?
I swallowed, my throat feeling like sandpaper and my heart a hammer in my chest. The absurdity of it ran down my spine. It was silly to think that, knowing everything that had happened between us already.
The sweet, honey tones of the head librarian, Mrs. Porter, floated over from the front desk as she waved goodbye to another family. She saw me sitting at my usual round table in the corner, and she smiled and raised her right hand to pat her heart, a sympathetic gesture. My mom used to take me to Mrs. Porter’s Reading Hour when I was a little kid. When my parents died, Mrs. Porter let me sit on the children's beanbags even though I was technically too old. And when Martin was alive –
My breath hitched, stuck in my lungs.
Martin was dead - taken by a storm in the first week of November. There was an emergency call from an anonymous tipper saying a girl about to jump at the cliffs on the other side of the Cove. Everyone thought it was a prank, but just in case, they sent officers out anyway. Martin never came back. His friends and fellow officers were sad when they broke the news. It said it was too windy, they said, and he couldn’t see the edge of the cliff.
They thought I cried because I was sad. Poor little Emory Scott, an orphan in the truest sense. The town honored him the same way they did any public servant, quickly and quietly. There was an announcement in the paper, a small wake, and a donation fund that the townspeople contributed to. People brought flowers and looks of pity. Grand-Mere liked the flowers. They filled our home for a week after, and for once, things looked brighter.
The Ashby’s made an appearance as representatives of the town. The mayor and his wife stayed precisely long enough to say something nice and leave a card. Arion had nothing to say, but Winter seemed genuinely sorry. The Graysons' showed up too, surprisingly. I couldn’t look at Will, even as he stared me down. Not after homecoming or what happened the next day. It hurt too much, and now that Martin was gone, most of my excuses gone with him, I didn’t know what to do with Will.
Not that I had the time to deal with him. At sixteen, I wasn’t old enough to take guardianship of my grandmother, and without Martin’s salary, there was no way I could afford it, even with my college fund and the donations. I was overwrought at thought of losing her, missing a week of school to look through the law books, talk to lawyers - to anyone who would listen - trying to keep them from separating us.
Will found me, as he somehow always managed to. I was dragging my tired body back home from the bus stop when he forced me into his truck and down the road to Sticks where he wouldn’t let me leave until I finished the plate of fries he ordered.
He joked that we had to stop meeting like this, and images of the day in the movie theater overwhelmed me. I choked on my soda. When I tried to glare, he laughed.
Thunder echoed outside the library. I frowned, wondering if this was going to ruin his plans.
Storms. I should hate them, given all they’d taken from me, but I don’t. Outside, the streetlights flickered with the shadows of trees whipping in the slow wind. Over the next few hours, it would grow into a howling squall.
I checked my phone to confirm I hadn’t missed any messages from Will. Whatever he had planned, it wouldn’t be outdoors. Maybe that’s for the best, I thought. Somewhere inside, where it’s dark, and we’re alone. Sounds good, actually. Tonight could be the night he finally stops holding out on me.
A large draft of wind followed by a boom of thunder drew my attention back to the window. Above, the lights flickered before losing power. Then the streetlights blinked out, casting the street in darkness.
While I’m not afraid of storms, I’m not stupid either. Using my cellphone flash, I quickly gathered my stuff into my bag and walked to the reception desk, where I last saw Mrs. Porter. The space was empty, and as I looked around, I realized I didn’t see anyone else around either. My arm hair raised as I listened for something other than the wind. Mrs. Porter knew I was here, and she wouldn’t just leave a patron. Something is keeping her away.
Slowly, I made my way around the microscopic library. There are only two public spaces and a hallway. The front doors open to the reception desk. Going left leads to the Young People’s section, and right to the Adult section. The hallway that branches off the front goes to the bathrooms and to the break room in the back.
Despite the size, there’s an abundance of places to hide. Or to hide someone.
As soon as the thought came, I scoffed. “That is stupid,” I said, solely to hear it out loud.
But is it? It’s not like I don’t know a murderer. It’s not like this town is short of bizarre happenings.
It’s not like I haven’t wondered if Martin’s death was really an accident.
It’s not like I wasn’t planning fucking the man I thought may have done it.
I bit my bottom lip. “Will?” I called out, taking a chance. This is right up his alley. The kind of stupid prank only he’d think of. Nearly identical to what he did at the school.
I smirked, loosening up a bit. “Look, we’ve been here before, you already know I’m not scared,” I lied. Well, partially. There was still a part of me that doubted it was him. “I’m impressed you even got the storm. Is it a paid actor?”
No answer. I wondered if Mrs. Porter was a hostage, and if she could hear me talking to nobody.
Flirting. I was potentially flirting with a murderer while sweet Mrs. Porter was bleeding out somewhere. That would be bad.
Another strong gust forced the front doors to slam open. I gasped, dropping my bag to get to them quicker. I was surprised the power of the wind didn’t break the glass. Even as I tried to use all my strength to push them closed, I was losing that fight inch by inch.
Until someone appeared behind me, taking both doors and managing to muscle them together, giving me a chance to flip the lock in place. Finally able to catch my breath, my face and hair, and entire front soaked with rain, I turned to see who it was because it certainly wasn’t old Mrs. Porter.
The white mask glowed bright in the shadows. Whatever fear I was feeling was immediately expelled in a strong exhale.
He stood close, practically on top of me, all around me. Neither of us said a word as we watched each other. But I wanted –
Mimicking what I did before, I slipped the mask back, revealing his piercing green eyes.
Yeah. That’s what I wanted. To watch him watching me. Nobody looked at me the way he did, even now.
I could have kissed him in the lab at school, but I didn’t. I had my reasons. Now, though, I didn’t want to hold back. He’s been making me work for it, and the role reversal has nearly killed me.
I stood on my toes to reach him, leaving millimeters between our lips so that I could feel the air leaving him. And that’s where I stopped, just a breath away.
“Was this the plan?”
He swallowed. I couldn’t keep the hint of a smile at his suffering off my lips.
“Feels familiar,” I continued. “Was the lock-in just the teaser for the main event?”
His eyes danced, and I knew I was right.
“Do I get to hide this time?”
“You want me to hunt you?”
I pulled the mask back down, lowering myself to the ground. “Close your eyes, count to sixty. And then come and find me. If you can.”
I trust that he’s playing fair as I step away, noting the spots of water that trail after me, which was how I found him at school. I go to the carpeted area in the adult section, trying to map out the space from memory.
The stacks weren’t in rows like most libraries. They were more like a maze, with some rows dead-ended and others turning into the next row, which could only be discovered if you kept going. The shelves created illusions. I didn’t know how Mrs. Porter managed to keep it organized or why she let it go on that way. I chalked it up to just another Thunder Bay peculiarity.
After what felt like forever, I heard movement in the row over. I rolled my lips together to keep the giggle from getting out. I knew he’d come into the stacks. Being the rich boy he was, I doubt he spent as much time in them as me.
Darting around in the dark, I kept just out of his grasp. At some point, I think he was letting me get away so the game went on. When I think I’ve finally got him turned around and confused, I exited the rows of books. My legs shook as I crossed to the Young People's section. They have a loft area there, where the beanbags are. It should take him a while to think of that.
Halfway there, my foot slipped in the water from the rain. It just happened to be when the wind got quiet, and the small squeak from my shoe against the tile was so much louder in the silence. I waited with baited breath to see what he would do.
The noise seemed to reorient him, and suddenly, he shot off through the stacks faster than before. Thinking swiftly, I snatched the container of pens from the counter and threw it toward the bathroom hall before darting the other way.
The stairs to the loft were around the corner, and I climbed the small steps in threes, checking over my shoulder, until I could crawl into the loft area. Gently, I moved into the pile of beanbags, piling them over me so that every bit of me was covered.
Surrounded by darkness, all I had was my hearing to determine if he was coming. I waited, trying to hear him over my heartbeat.
And when he did find me, then what?
My breath came out slow. It'd been two months since homecoming. Two months wasn’t that long of a time. It still felt like forever for me. Everything had changed, just not Will.
But, then, hadn’t he changed? The night Will took me out to dinner, he asked how things were going since Martin died. I looked at him, remembering the day in the hall when he asked me about the bruises.
I thought of Damon Torrance and what he knew.
Then, of the two of them that night in the wrestling room.
A cold sweat broke along my neck as I straightened, pushing away the food he bought for me.
I remembered what Damon said as we walked to his car from the cemetery. He offered to “take care” of Martin for me. I never took him up on that; I never intended to.
Would he have made the same offer to Will?
Will’s green eyes watched me closely, waiting. He never seemed perceptive before, but there was no other word for the way his gaze pinned me in place.
I drew in a deep breath, suddenly feeling sick.
Will’s fondness for the Cove, for Cold Point, for mysteries, and his story of Reverie Cross all came flooding back. Suddenly, what happened with Martin was all too familiar.
But Will wouldn’t…
Would he?
I told him to take me home, and with a smile, he did.
He didn’t disappear. He was there the morning, parking his truck in my driveway. There was no stopping him from coming in the front door with a take-away breakfast for me and a cup holder with enough coffee for everyone, including the nurse attending to my grandmother. He also brought hot water in case Grand-Mere preferred tea.
He sat in her room and talked to her while I finished getting ready. I could still hear her charmed laugh from something he said. I hadn’t heard that sound in so long I nearly cried.
I divulged him about what was going on with Grand-Mere on the way to school. I didn’t want to go, but he reminded me I’d lose my scholarship if I didn’t keep my grades up. I sat in the passenger seat, hugging my back full of applications and petitions, and whispered my fears out the window, refusing to let a single tear drop. It felt good to admit it - to share the burden with someone.
A week later, a lawyer arrived with a check. A private benefactor was offering to pay for my grandmother’s care for the rest of her life in Thunder Bay, including a round-the-clock nurse if I needed it. Between that, and letters of character from my school and the town mayor, the judge agreed to let us stay in our home as long as we agree to a quarterly child service inspection until I turned eighteen.
I’d never felt so free as the day I left the courthouse.
The evidence pointed to Will’s involvement, but I never asked. Asking would make it real. Making it real would make me indebted to him. He wasn’t offering any information either. For two months, he didn’t push me. The most he’d done was sneak into my room through the window, even though he could use the front door now.
Some nights, he would just lay with me. Sometimes he waited until I reached for him, pulling him closer. As much as I pushed for more, he held back, always leaving me wanting more and frustrated at his resistance. Hours felt like they could stretch for all eternity when I was with him, but his patience never wore out.
I didn’t know what he wanted from me until he formally asked me out. He made sure I knew it was a date in the full sense of the word. He’d pick me up at an arranged time, we’d go to a pre-determined destination, and then after that, he’d take me home. There might even be a kiss on the porch at the end of the date “if I’m lucky.”
I gave him my middle finger, which he thought was hilarious.
I barely had the mind to agree to the date, I was so shocked. There was no denying I was better. I’d rejoined the swim team and band. I mostly hung out with Elle at school, but occasionally, we met up for coffee on the weekend. My projects around town were on track, and I got approved to start a new one on the bell tower the following week.
I might even have a boyfriend. Or something. Will doesn’t seem like the boyfriend type, though he’s still here, isn’t he? I can’t argue that it’s all for a chance to get into my pants anymore; I gave that to him two months ago and have more than offered several times since. What did I have to do to get him to take the bait? Strip off my clothes and dance around my room?
Something seized my ankle, dragging me from my spot as I screamed and fought to crawl away. Flipping over, I scrambled to get to my knees, but he came down on me before I got any leverage. I could feel his heart through my back as we breathed at different paces.
I laughed to myself.
Despite his superior size, I still struggled. I’d never stop fighting; I’d been too easy on him recently.
I bucked, trying to throw him off, but I just pushed into him more. His hand came around my throat, and he pulled me up, arching my back. His knees were on either side of my legs, my back against his chest. We panted with energy and anticipation. His hand drifted down, ghosting over my heavy chest, down to my waist, fingers dancing along the hem of my shirt. They brushed against the heated skin of my stomach. My breath shuddered.
Maybe my heart should be guilty over what I was doing. Haunted by Martin’s ghost, disturbed that Will was the one I wanted. It was sick, the things I wanted from him, to do to him. The fact that I just didn’t care.
Will’s not good for me.
But if it’s all true, then I wasn’t good for him either.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered against my ear. I could tell he’d already removed his mask by the way his lips brushed against the sensitive skin there. “Maybe you’ll win next time. After I have my reward.”
--
Last one left in my drafts, based on the idea that a game of hide-and-seek in the library is Will's ideal first date, though I wasn't able to find where PD said that.
Anyway. I struggled with it for a while because as I was writing, I couldn't figure out away to make it different than what had happened in the school during lock-in. And then also how to make it a first date? I could have gone completely AU, but ultimately decided on canon-divergence.
This will probably be the last one I write for a while.
As always, thank you for your time, any comments you leave, or liking. I appreciate everything you do.
-KO
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aarons-comatose · 2 years
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I want. A library date with my boyfriend right now. I wanna sit next to him in the lil booth at the library and lean on him while we read our books or he reads aloud to me. Or the other way around. I want to feel sleepy and happy and comfortable with him so badly heh, he'll be so warm :)
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