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pinencurls · 4 years

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“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

Hiii so this is my entry to @stellarboystyles‘s three year anniversary fic challenge! I’ve been busy with getting ready for classes starting and balancing other stuff so I wrote it on and off for a week and a bit but I hope you all enjoy! Feedback is so so encouraged and appreciated <3

Here’s my masterlist of some other stuff I’ve written x

Enemies (more like friends but oops) to lovers, prompt 9 “I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

14k+ :) Not read through sorry! pls let me know of any mistakes and I’ll correct them <3 (also i k n o w the title's bad but i couldn’t think of anything, pls feel free to leave any recs.)

- - - -

It isn’t that I hate Harry. He just makes me feel...insecure. He’s never said or done anything directly but it’s hard to feel good about yourself when all your closest confidants seem to compare you to somebody else, somebody they so clearly hold higher above you. There wasn’t a single day I could meet a mutual friend of mine and Harry’s and not have them sing his praises, and apparently everyone was a mutual friend. I’ve known Julia and Theo for years, we all met in uni when they first started going out but it wasn’t until a year ago that I somehow ended up finding myself a regular within the friendship group they’d formed when they both went into the music and fashion industries. They had ties everywhere and after a pure coincidence of running into them and their circle at a pub, almost all my weekends were spent in various art galleries or new restaurants owned by somebody’s cousin or the guy they met last night at a Fleetwood Mac concert.

I’d met Harry about five months into hanging out with the group. He’d known them a lot longer than I had, weaving his way into the little pockets of interesting people for years since the x factor. I was busy with work the first few times he was in town but after a while, Nick, the persistent party planner of the group who always managed to wrangle us together, insisted that I just had to meet him. . . . . .

Eleanor’s house is huge and buzzing with hundreds of strangers. I cling to Julia and Theo’s side, Nick and Eleanor are nowhere in sight - most likely playing host or drinking too much chardonnay in another corner of the house. These four are the only people I can say I really know here, sure there are a few familiar faces on the dance floor, either from having met them at any of Eleanor's past elaborate parties or just because of they’re not so subtle fame. That’s another thing, all the people sipping wine and dancing around me are fairly...well known. Either just within the industry or to the general public too, they’d all gain fairly high status. It was a fluke really that I got on so well with Julia when we first met on a fashion course in uni.

Julia had big goals, all of which she was on track to fulfil, that conflicted slightly with mine. Her goals consisted of runway show models clad in designer brands she might one day contribute to whereas mine were more...anti, that whole world. It took a few years to find a steady footing but eventually, I was proud of where I’d ended up: a comfortable little cubby in the fashion and sustainability columns of a handful of independent magazines. After a few nights out with Julia, I was pleasantly surprised to find her shared interests and solidarity in my work and ambitions of her own within the same ideology. But whilst that’s all well and good, I’m still very much the small indie journalist that slips through the cracks when it comes to small talk at these kinds of events. It became apparent pretty quickly that my latest articles on how fast fashion had begun its destruction of a liveable environment in developing countries weren’t as relevant or interesting to the people promoting Prada and Calvin Klein as the next met gala theme.

“Do you want another drink?” Theo asks from beside me, pulling my focus from my scan of the room.

“No thanks..I’m good.” I murmur, debating how long I have to stay before I can slip out and feel a little less awkward around all the people I have no clue how to talk to. “Think I’m gonna head off actually..”

“Look I know you hate networking, but this is just a chill get-together yeah?” Theo chuckles, squeezing my shoulder before taking another sip from his gin and tonic. “We’re in the same boat about these snooty things but tonight’s not like that, relax a bit will ya.”

Theo works mostly with small-time music artists, producing debut albums and such so we share the same deep discomfort for the many events we often find ourselves at. It’s how we got close really, week after week we’d trail behind Julia as she strikes up conversations with Hollywood elite...and he always makes getting piss drunk in someone’s pool house exceptionally fun.

Before I can further any excuses about getting home to start on the legitimate and ever-growing pile of work deadlines on my desk, a tall man in far too much Gucci to belong anywhere but in a room full of models and artists makes a beeline straight from the bar to our awkward party.

“Harry!” Theo shouts, embracing the slightly tipsy man in a hug he reciprocates.

“It’s been too long mate, how ‘ave you been?” Harry cheers, leaning back from the hug and grinning down at his friend.

“I’ve been good - busy, enjoying the free bar as always.” Theo jokes, motioning between his and my matching G and T’s. Harry’s eyes wander up from the drink, realisation dawning on his face as he smiles again.

“Ah and you must be the famous Olivia,” He reaches his hand out to mine and shakes it lightly. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself, ‘m Harry, it’s good to finally meet you, love.”

“Likewise.” I smile, trying to suppress the blush his words of endearment tease. I can’t deny the natural charm and charisma everyone always talks about now that it’s hitting me straight on. There’s something about the way he doesn’t hesitate to hold eye contact just that little bit longer that makes the room go still for just a second. He’d got it down to a T.

“Aww I see you two have finally met!” Nick interrupts. My hand falls from Harry’s grip as he’s welcomed into another hug. “About fucking time as well, been trying get this one to take a night off for weeks!”

“I literally came out with you last Thursday!” I counter, not missing the smirk setting on Harry’s face as he watches Nick and I’s back and forth. “And the Saturday before, come to think of it I’m always out with you Nicky.”

“Not when Harry’s in town though n’ that’s a different kinda night.” Nick laughs, his beer sloshing slightly in his free hand as his other remains draped over Harry’s shoulders.

That was maybe the first sign of my slight resentment for Harry. All night I wandered around with Theo hearing little bits of conversations, all surrounding the star of the party. I understood this wasn’t his doing, his humility was clear in every one of his bashful attempts to turn the conversation away from his growing achievements and onto literally anything else. He was, however, a self-proclaimed narcissist. Every time somebody would swoon over him and insist he stay the topic of conversation, a smirk tugged at his lips and stayed there as he consumed the endless and animated praise from almost all the party guests.

I’d expected some of his qualities to be untrue, learning from the past never to believe blindly of someone’s pure character when you didn’t truly know them. Especially when they frequented the gossip columns. But it wasn’t him so much, he was true to his motto of kindness and courteous even as people fawned over him, it was more the attention that surrounded him. As the night went on it became clear what Nick meant even if he didn’t know it himself. A night out with Harry was different because everyone made sure to capitalize off how different he made them feel.

. . . . .

“Can I get you anything else M’am?” The young waitress asks as she clears up my empty mug and saucer. My eyes falter a little as they adjust from the blue light of my laptop I’ve been staring at for the last twenty minutes.

“Um- oh please could I just get a refill?” I ask.

“Sure thing - mint tea right?” She smiles, adjusting the mug in her hands to make a quick note.

“Yeah..s’perfect - thank you.” She’s gone before she hears my delayed gratitudes, definitely used to the throngs of bemused writers tapping away at their laptops for hours.

I turn back to my open google doc. So far it’s written in two parts I have no idea how to connect and my senseless rereading hasn’t resulted in any legitimate progress in almost an hour. I’d accept the rut I’m stuck in and work on something else for the day if I didn’t only have the day. Last night had been filled with plans of settling in early and finishing the last two thousand words on an upcoming sustainable clothing brand. That all went out the window of course as my phone buzzed off the kitchen counter with Nick’s insistence of yet another night out to celebrate ending the work week - his was quite different to mine. It was easy to ignore the persistent beeping of my phone as new texts and call notifications popped up every three minutes, but less so when the rhythmic bursts of noise were replaced by knocks on my front door.

Within 40 minutes of opening it to Nick in a silk shirt and jeans too skinny for someone pushing thirty, I was two drinks in and dancing to Blue DeTiger with a pair of hands on my waist that I didn’t entirely recognise. It was just the six of us: Me, Nick, Ellie, Theo, Julia and Harry.

He was hard to ignore, not that I was trying particularly hard. On the drive over, the limited backseat space in Nick’s car and close proximity had practically forced me into his lap. Even with thighs pressed tightly against each other, we hardly talked, a few polite hellos here and there and then silence as we listened to Eleanor recall her latest night with whichever blonde bassist was her ‘soulmate’ that week. The whole ride over, Harry kept his hands on the thigh closest to the door and leant his shoulders the same way as to touch me as little as possible - which was still quite a lot considering the packed five seater pushing seven passengers. It was fairly common knowledge we weren’t close and I got the feeling he wasn’t too keen on me, but he could at least not act like touching me would be the worst thing ever.

As the night went on he clung to Theo, ever the cuddly drunk, and I stayed more to the pleasant stranger I’d found on the dance floor.

No meanest was ever intended between us but I couldn’t help but watch the kindergarten like bitterness grow as everyone just loved him. We couldn’t go anywhere without a crying fan or two approaching the sweet and smiling man who always answered their questions affectionately and hugged them goodbye. The times he was out of town were always filled with comments about his absence, as if none of us were good enough without his added presence. I couldn’t help but wonder why they even bothered to bring me into their little group. The lack of closeness between Harry and I felt almost like a lack of closeness to the group as a whole, despite how much my individual friendships with everyone advanced.

Just as I thank the waitress - Alice, her name tag read, and take the first sip of my third tea (I had to switch after a particularly strong starter coffee) I notice a familiar man out the corner of my eye looking just as rough as me. Of course he’s wearing it better than I am.

Harry collects a drink from the counter and bows his head slightly in thanks, turning and catching my eye just as he’s on his way out. He waves with his free hand and shoots me a candid smile before making a quick change in direction towards my small table.

“Long time no see,” He pulls the chair opposite me out a little as he chuckles at his own joke. He perches lightly, temporarily. “How’ve you been?”

“A little hungover, I won’t lie..” I laugh, surprised by the whole encounter. “You?”

“Same, I might have had a shot or two too many,” I nod knowingly and shut my laptop softly. He sips what smells like coffee before going on. “Are ya workin? Sorry to interrupt.”

“Oh no- I mean I am but it doesn’t matter really, ‘ve kinda hit a dead end.” His eyes hover, waiting for me to go on. “I was gonna get it done last night but Nick had other plans..”

“Yeah Nick’ll do that to you,” He laughs, “What’re you writing ‘bout?”

He leans slightly forwards, holding eye contact and shuffling comfortably into his chair.

“Oh just this promotional piece on a new company, they’re hiring young women and training them to make these handmade clothes. They’re paying them above minimum wage and focusing on sustainability so this editor I’ve written for before offered me it.” I’m not really sure how sincere he is in his curiosity, he always seems to have time to listen when Julia has a new design plan or Theo’s found a new artist but that’s different really. I stop before I start to ramble, just in case.

“That’s so cool, what kinda stuff are they making?” He prompts, resting his chin on his fist, imitating the posture of an eager little kid.

“They've started stocking stuff by other independent artists but mostly dungarees and these cool cord trousers, they’d suit you actually, even got some 70s style ones.” Now that the two worlds are colliding in my head, I can’t help but imagine Harry in a pair of their forest green cords, the wide legs would almost bury his vans but a part of me is pretty sure he’d love them.

“Thanks, if they come at your recommendation I might have to get my hands on a pair,” He smiles, his tone’s a lot different to the usual polite cheer, it’s difficult to place where it’s landed before he’s talking again. “Reminds me of that show you took us to with the upcycled clothes, all those dungarees made of old quilts - remember?”

It’d been a small exhibit just outside of London I’d mentioned offhandedly and somehow ended up showing everyone around. It was nice to have them all in my world for an evening. Marcus, a friend of mine from college, had put it together and created a lot of the pieces. He and the others I’d met through my work were fairly shocked to say the least when Harry Styles came traipsing through the doors behind me. All night he quietly asked Nick questions, to which Nick only responded by motioning towards me and wandering off to the bar.

“I do - I’m surprised you do to be honest.” It slips before I can decide if it sounds passive aggressive or not. To be fair, it had been a surprise to me, meeting everyone at the train station and watching Harry and Nick scramble out a taxi and run towards us. He’d been dressed in proper gallery attire and seemed genuinely thrilled to be joining in on the rare night I actually played host.

“Course I do, it was a good night...I’d choose it over Nick’s tequila Tuesdays anyday.” His phone buzzes on the table, a text popping up in green. “Oh I- my manager’s waiting sorry.”

A sheepish smile is accompanied by a loose arm movement towards the door where, out on the street, I see Jeff. He’s shaking his head and motioning for Harry to hurry up. Had Harry sat down to talk to me whilst his manager had been waiting this whole time?

“It was good running into you, good luck with it all,” He stands. “See you friday yeah?”

I’d totally forgotten about his “Whenever I’m in town Friday film night.” until he mentioned it. I’d been twice in the past and stayed quietly to my corner of the sofa, only watching as everyone else laughed at whatever romcom had been chosen that night.

“I-maybe.” He shakes his head as I smile, not quite ready to commit a whole evening to watching Nick raid Harry’s wine cellar.

“You better, I’m gonna need to hear more ‘bout those cords.” He points his hand in a kind of joking reprimand/wave before he’s gone back down the aisle of tables to the door where Jeff ruffles a hand through his hair and laughs when his hands fly to fix the now birdnest of brown curls.

I open my laptop back up, skimming over the last few lines I wrote to get myself back on track. I take a sip and my tea’s gone cold.

. . . . .

“Are you coming to Harry’s tonight?” Eleanor asks down the phone, her voice chipper as she no doubt raids her closet.

“Maybe, I don’t know..I’ve got this deadline Monday morning that I’m nowhere near meeting.”

“Come on Liv, we haven’t seen you all properly together since last month, and last week doesn’t count it was too loud to actually talk!” She chimes in, the sound of clothes being tossed to the floor clear in the distant background. “Have you got a problem with Harry or something?”

“No Elle, of course I don’t-”

“Then why do you guys never talk? You hardly come with us when he’s around and when you do you barely even say hello.” Eleanor complains, she’s mentioned it in the past but it’s been easy to blow off with excuses of how busy he usually was making his way around the room to greet everyone or how we just hadn’t known each other that long and weren't particularly close yet.

“I just...I don’t know, I don’t think he likes me very much.” I pause. I still haven't decided what last Saturday was in the cafe. “We’re not really close and I’d prefer not to spend another night listening to people tell him - and everyone else - how great he is.”

“You’re saying that like he’s some arrogant twit, if you came out with us more you’d see what he’s really like around his friends. Or you know, you could actually talk to him when we’re together and see that he’s not a dick?”

It was a fair point. I haven’t made much of an effort over the past year to spend any time with him outside of larger gatherings or to have genuine conversations with him that went past the weather or a new jacket one of us had on. Maybe he really is a good guy away from all the pretentious crowds and watchful eyes he usually called to our group. He’d certainly seemed different in the quiet Saturday surroundings of Blondies Coffee Roasters in between sips of coffee.

“Okay, okay yeah I’ll see you there.” We hang up a couple of minutes later and I’m left alone in my kitchen again.

. . . . .

“Hey!” Harry cheers as the door swings open to reveal him in yet another pair of flared pants that hung comfortably around his waist. “Come in, come in.”

We all pile in through the doorway as he steps aside. Arms weaving through each other as we hang coats and jackets and Julia passes Harry the fruit platter she’d made (and scolded us all for picking at on the drive over.)

“Oh very appropriate,” Harry laughs as he uncovers the tray to reveal an array of sliced watermelon, strawberries and grapes, He sets the fruit down on the table in the lounge for us all to eat and shakes his head lightly. I look up at Julia for an explanation but she’s too busy claiming the comfiest loveseat for the night. “I’m never telling you anything again, Jules.”

Julia and Harry tease each other for a moment more until Theo catches my confused stares and laughs to himself.

“Harry wrote a song ‘bout fruit- another one actually,” Theo starts, tucking himself beside Julia and letting her take over before he can finish. “S’not just about fruit though is it H?”

Harry blushes slightly and settles his glare on Julia as he carries six wine glasses through to the table.

“‘S about watermelon, it just has some..” He clears his throat as he fumbles for his next sentence. “Other themes to it too.”

“As if mate,” Theo’s laughter booms, “ Basically Liv, he wrote this new song the other day all about how much he loves to-”

“Watermelon!” Harry yells, pointing an accusatory finger at Theo. “S’all about how much I love watermelons...I’m a fruit guy.”

“Oh are we talking about the pussy song?”

All heads snap round to see Nick, obviously having let himself in and now chuckling softly to himself as he leans against the archway into the room.

“Oh sorry H, were you tryna give an interview answer?”

Harry just slaps his palm over his eyes and lets his shoulders shake for a minute before he bounces back to host mode.

“Okay!” I can’t help but notice how flushed the tips of his ears are as he claps his hands together, desperately trying to move on from the conversation. “Who wants wine?”

Fifteen minutes later everyone is settled onto the sofas with an array of throws between us and a layout of fruits, crisps and other mid rom com snacks that make me feel bad I left my flat in too much of a hurry to remember anything but hummus.

“Okay - Sixteen Candles, When Harry Met Sally or Mamma Mia?” Nick calls out, waving the tv remote above his head to get everyone's attention. An outpour of votes follows - you’d think between only six of us we’d be able to sort out a process by now but still we fall into momentary anarchy as the room divides.

“Mamma Mia is a classic!” Eleanor protests as Nick’s shaking his head.

“And Billy Crystal isn’t?” He yells back, eyes wide and genuinely offended.

“Colin Firth is arguably more iconic, Nick really, come on.” Theo sighs. He accepts the high fives Ellie and I reach out to him and saluts us both.

“We’ve all seen Mamma Mia before though, we’ve never watched When Harry Met Sally all together,” Julia points out, winning a smirk and nod of approval from Nick.

There’s a beat of silence while Nick weighs up the votes in his head. He tilts to the side slightly and eyes Harry up, our gazes following.

“Harry?”

“Ellie?”

“Come on, you’ve got the last vote here, and I know how much you like Meryl.” Nick gasps a little, the mention of Meryl Streep as a wager to win Harry over to his opposing team was definitely foul play in his eyes.

“Yeah but he loves When Harry Met Sally...and he is a narcissist..” Julia offers into the debate, a few snickers follow her comment before we all turn to look at Harry. We’re all already half a glass in but I could swear for just a moment his eyes lingered over me, fluttering down to my smile before turning back to announce his decision to Nick.

“I’m afraid I am in the mood for a bit of Abba,” Cheers and not so subtle murmurs of frustration fill the lounge as Nick scrolls through the Romance bar on Netflix before clicking on the film of just over half of our choosing.

Everyone goes quiet as the film starts, breaking out into bursts of song only as the cast does. From the conversation in the car, it’s pretty clear everyone has just been through a pretty tiring week. We all tended to pile our workload a little heavy so it was always nice to escape for a few hours at the weekend and relax together.

Just as Voulez-vous plays through the room, a slightly tipsy Nick leans into Harry to serenade the singer with his own rendition. The duo sway slightly, both narrowly avoiding Nick’s wild limbs before there’s a crash and Harry’s cursing.

“Oh- H, Sorry!”

Nick’s wine glass that’d been balanced on the coffee table in front of him moments before now lays on its side. The, luckily white, wine trickles down onto the rug but most noticeably splashes into Harry’s lap. I’m not entirely sure how he managed it, it must have flown forwards when it was knocked but Harry quickly stands to access the damage.

“I’m so sorry Harry I-”

“Don’t worry mate, I’m just gonna go change and toss these in the wash..could you wipe that up for me?” Nick nods, looking a little less cheerful and a lot more guilty now as Harry makes it way out the room. He calls behind him: “Keep watching I’ll only be a second!”

Nick finishes wiping down the table and rug just as Harry jogs back into the room. I don’t mean to and I’m never one to check people out..unless very subtly, but I can’t help but let my eyes linger a little.

He’s still in his plain tee but instead of his fancy pants he’s found some soft wash denim jeans. The whole look paired with his thick rimmed glasses and how his hair's gotten tousled about by Nick throughout the night just made him look so...ordinary. Not in any bad way, anyone who met Harry knew he could never be ordinary, no matter how casual he dressed, but something about seeing him abandon the more dressed up looks and go for the comfortable option just made him seem different.

In a second his green eyes are complimenting the look too as he gazes down at me.

“Hi,” He mouths, nobody’s taken much notice of his return, yet another musical number taking everyone’s attention. It’s my turn to blush a little now. I avert my eyes quickly, anywhere really, before sneaking a quick look up at him to smile back.

Ellie had helped Nick in the “For fucksake save Harry’s rug it probably costs more than your car” mission and had stolen the seat beside him after they were done. It slipped my mind until Harry set the new bottle of wine on the table and sunk down into the space beside me, He curls one leg underneath him and slips me one more smile before turning back to the screen just as Donna and Sam start singing SOS.

. . . . .

“Ah shit, I think I left my book!” I curse just as we make it down the road to Julia’s car. Parking was shit so by the time we found a spot we’d ended up a good 15 minutes away from Harry’s house. “You guys go on, I’m only round the corner anyway.”

Theo and Julia were familiar with my stubbornness so let me go, yelling their goodbyes after a few hugs as they drove away, Ellie and Nick do the same as they clamber into a taxi. I turn quickly in the chilly air and make my way back down the street to Harry’s drive, punching in the familiar code at his gate before running up to the door hastily.

It was open - as always, so I let myself in. He was probably still cleaning the lounge up after we all got a little too tipsy.

“Hey it’s me...just left my book sorry!” I call down the hallway. It’s quiet despite the light Paul Simon playing in the distance so I make my way quickly to the sofas I’d spent most of the night on, praying to avoid an awkward run-in with Harry.

Although we’d actually shared some light conversation throughout the night and a handful of smiles, I’m not sure we’re quite at the stage in our friendship that me more or less breaking into his house wouldn’t be awkward to run into.

The lounge is empty when I get there. The side tables are still littered with wine glasses and tacky red rings on coasters but no Harry in sight. Or book for that matter.

I start pulling back the cushions carefully - god knows how much they cost. Despite scouring the one spot I’d pretty much clung to the whole night - incidentally beside Harry - I have no luck. Nick tossed the book back to me at some point in the night after reading it by my recommendation but knowing him it could have ended up anyway. I follow the breadcrumbs of our night down another hallway as I vaguely remember Nick talking about a certain plot twist as we searched Harry’s kitchen cupboards for the wine he’d sent us off to restock.

As I come around the white archway into his kitchen I catch a glimpse of him from around the kitchen island. He has his back turned to me but he’s leant forwards against a counter with ring covered fingers clutching the edge, a glass of amber liquid set slightly away from him.

“Oh, sorry I was just-” He jumps a little at my voice, turning quickly to face me with his now free hands coming up to hold his chest. When his eyes finally meet mine they’re red and it takes a second for him to register the tears still streaming from them before he replies.

“Shit, fu- what are you..are you alright?” His hands bat between tangling into his hair and wiping the tears from his cheeks, anything to avoid actually looking up at me again.

“Yeah, I just..um..left my book,” I mumble, taking a step closer to him when I notice how his hands shake as they move timidly around his face. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

“Uuuh um.” He wanders for a moment before slapping a palm lightly atop the counter and pulling out his infamous grin. “Nothing much, how bout you - find your book?”

“-Harry..” I take another step close, “I know we’re not, ya know..close. But you can talk to me.”

There’s a beat of silence when he keeps up the act, I’d almost believe it if it wasn’t for his bloodshot eyes and anxious fingers drumming against the tile.

“What’s wrong?”

He pauses for a moment, assessing whether or not to tell me whatever’s weighing so heavy on his shoulders. But the dam bursts.

“Fuckin’ everything Love” He laughs, rubbing his palms over his face. I try to focus on the matter at hand: Harry weeping in his kitchen. But that name’s only ever left his mouth directed at me a handful of times and it’s never made my stomach flutter quite as it did just now. “Just..Fuck I’m so lonely Olivia.”

I don’t really know any of the details but between conversation - mostly overheard, and the media frenzy, it was hard not to be aware of Harry’s break up two months ago. I can’t claim we were close enough to discuss it, having hardly ever talked beyond trivial issues, but I knew that despite them only being together two or so months, he’d been incredibly distant for the weeks that followed the break up.

“I hear about you and Aubre..I’m really sorry it didn’t work out for you guys-” Harry laughs almost, a pained sort of chuckle that told me I was way off with this one.

“It’s not..that isn’t why I..” He takes a deep breath before lifting his head up slightly to focus on where his fingers still tapped out a nervous beat on the counter. “I was lonely before her...and with her. I just, I can’t seem to get it right ever...feels like nobody wants to be with me for the right reasons.”

“Hey no..what about tonight? Your house was full of so many people who love you yeah? Maybe your bougie wine collection had something to do with it but still,” He laughs at that, peeking up from behind his fringe for just a moment. “They- we love you ‘k?”

“I know but, ‘clock hits the am and everyone leaves, it just gets...it gets so fucking lonely to see everyone in perfect pairs ya know?”

I don’t really know what I’m doing but I’m doing it - my arms wrap over his shoulders and lock with a hand at the nape of his neck. We’ve never hugged before beyond a general greeting but anyone watching wouldn’t know it, his face burrows quickly into my shoulder and his arms cocoon over my waist, holding me tightly and slipping under the thick layers of my jacket.

“I know exactly what you mean, H.”

The hug lasts longer than I imagined it might. He smells of vanilla and the coffee he brought back in bulk from Jamaica. He lets out a shaky breath and melts further into me, nuzzling my neck softly with the tip of his nose. His curls are soft between my fingers and I find myself shhing him, lulling us both into a tired kind of calm.

Another moment passes in the silence of his kitchen before Harry lets out an awkward cough and straightens up, pulling out of our hold and immediately covering his face with his palms again.

“I..sorry Jules and Theo must be waiting for you..” Harry murmured, wiping the last of his tears away and letting his hands fall and fidget by his sides.

“Oh no don’t worry they..um they already went I was actually just gonna walk.” I tell him, making his head perk up a bit.

“Wha-It’s past twelve Liv it’s not safe, how far do you even live?” He clears his throat and his voice is clearer now, it feels like a whole different world to the one we were in just a minute ago.

“It’s fine honestly, only take like thirty minutes walking - I’ve done it before-” I ramble, eager to put this situation behind me before I embarrass myself anymore.

“No - let me drive you yeah?” Harry shakes his head, adamant.

“Harry..we’ve been drinking all night, I think that’s more dangerous than me jus’ walking.” I laugh, holding his gaze for a second longer than I usually would - fuck, how do we usually act around each other?

Before I come to a conclusion, his eyes rest heavy on mine and I can see the cogs turning in his brain as he tries to work his way out of this one. Ever the people pleaser.

“Then stay.”

“Harry-”

“You said you know how it feels.” He cuts in, unwavering now as he doesn’t let my eyes fall from his. “So stay …’s safer anyway.”

. . . . .

“I can take the sofa, really Harry I don’t mind,” I reassure as he tosses me an old t-shirt and joggers to sleep in. “It’s comfier than my bed anyway.

His guest bedrooms had just been painted and were still pretty fume filled so the sofa or his bed were the only options. For twenty minutes now he’s tried to convince me to take his bed and leave him on the sofa, despite the fact we both know he’s a little too tall to sleep without his feet hanging off the end.

“But you’re my guest!” He protests again, coming up from his wardrobe to stand in front of me, hand on hips and an expression of concern on his face.

“And you’re almost six foot!”

“Hey, I am six foot.” He takes a deep breathe, exhaling through his nose in defeat before speaking again. “Okay, you can sleep on the sofa but if anyone asks I was the perfect host and you bullied me into this.”

I laugh softly, this whole new side of Harry had never been directed solely at me before and it was honestly refreshing. Usually Nick or another friend was the target of his jokes and playful demeanor and I only noticed it from afar but now he was right in front of me, hauling pillows off his bed and sticking his tongue out when he caught me staring.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” He asks for the third time since I agreed to stay the night. We’ve just finished setting up the sofa to sleep on and despite the duvet and many quilts far more lush than my own actual bed, he seemed unconvinced it was enough.

“I’m sure” I sit back into the pile of blankets and pillows, tucking my feet underneath me and looking back up at Harry. “If you’re really not, just come watch a film with me and see how cozy it is.”

The quick change in dynamic was a lot smoother than I’d imagined. Within an hour of being alone together we’d already talked more than in all our past interactions, not to mention how close we’ve gotten. He only nods his head quickly and he’s settling under a quilt beside me, rummaging around for a controller to pull up netflix again.

“Mamma Mia two?” He asks.

I chuckle a bit and nod. At the beginning of the evening I hadn’t quite seen it ending in a Mamma Mia marathon with just me and Harry.

He presses play and as the opening display begins we both lean back into the sofa and pull the blankets up over us. It’s only in the quiet of the first few scenes that I notice we’re matching. We’re both dressed fully in his clothes, grey joggers and t-shirt - his rolling stones, mine fleetwood mac. And it all smells of him. I pull the blanket a little higher over my chest and the faint, but now familiar, scent of vanilla and coffee fills my lungs and for a second all I can focus on is how desperately I want to be in his arms again.

. . . . .

“-ow” A groggy voice mumbles from above me and I feel myself being pulled forwards slightly against something hard - and warm.

I’m a few seconds from falling straight back asleep before I feel the painful ache in the side of my neck. I reach a hand up to gauge my current situation and feel my fingers plunging into soft hair - soft hair that ends too soon to be mine.

“Hi..” I recoil my hand quickly back to my side and push myself up so I’m sitting slightly. I look down and see Harry, half asleep still and hand still resting on my side.

“Oh-hey sorry,” What do you say when you wake up beside the guy you barely knew but simultaneously had been incredibly vulnerable with just the night before?

Harry seems to be waking up now and certainly more aware of our predicament as he pulls his hand away from where it was holding firmly onto the material of my - his - t-shirt and pushes himself up to sit against the arm of the sofa.

“We must have fallen asleep..sorry I didn’t mean too, ya know…” His eyes flutter between where I sit opposite him and the “Are you still watching?” Netflix screen.

“It’s fine, accidents happen an’ everything.” I smile, slipping out from the warm cocoon of blankets to stand. “I’m just gonna wash up quickly and I’ll be out of you hair.”

Before I can rush off to tame my hair and hopefully find some toothpaste to rid me of my morning breath, Harry clasps his hand gently around my wrist and tugs slightly to get my attention.

“Not in a rush Love, I’ll make us some breakfast.” He says it effortlessly, like it was a regular occurrence for us to fall asleep cuddling on his sofa. He stands, groaning as his knees pop appreciatively and lets my hand go before he’s disappearing into the kitchen.

“Okay…” I murmur to myself. “....okay.”

. . . . .

Alice is back at my table with my second refill before 11am. I thank her and take a gulp of the fiery ginger tea before reading over the last three paragraphs I just wrote. The spice licks my tongue as I tip the cup up for a second sip; it’s autumn after all.

In the last two weeks September had slipped into October and all the trees in London had received the memo. I’d been busy, hoaled up in the quietest corner of Blondies the whole time with coffee filling all my senses. I haven’t seen everyone together since that night at Harry’s. I grabbed lunch with Eleanor the Monday afterwards and told her nothing, preferring to avoid the texts my phone amassed over the fortnight. I've turned down all proposed group activities and focused on work instead. To be fair, I do have a lot to get done. There were always seasonal pieces in my to do list and with the weather getting colder it was time I got to them before it was Christmas already.

I haven’t talked to Harry either. He made us pancakes with blueberries and maple syrup in the morning and we haven’t even texted since; I’m not sure that we even have a private text between us. Eleanor and Julia have told me how much fun they’ve all had the times I’ve politely but persistently declined, I can only assume Harry’s in the mix with them all. He’s in town for awhile if I’m remembering our breakfast chatter correctly, it makes sense that they’re all hanging out together really when they don’t often get time together. Ellie’s phone calls keep me from sliding into thoughts of how easily I could fall right out of the group and not be missed, at least. I was just taking space for work. The fact that most of my afternoons at the cafe disappeared into me analysing anything I might ever have felt or said to Harry means nothing at all.

Neither does the heightened pace of my heartbeat when he walks through the stiff wooden doors of Blondies.

He orders what I assume is his regular black coffee, scans the room for a second and lands directly on me. He hesitates a little to hold my gaze, turning his head to look outside before looking back at me and smiling. He thanks the server and takes a few quick steps towards me, weaving in between the packed tables to my little spot hidden away in the corner.

“Hi,” He smiles again, although his toneos overshadowed by a slight anxious hilt. “Can I sit?”

Nodding, I close my laptop and pull my tea closer to me to make a space for him.

“Hi.” He repeats, smiling a little sheepishly.

“Hi,” I wait a second, nervous to start when I’m so unsure of how this conversation has already gone in his head. But he doesn’t say anything so I push through and bite the bullet against my better judgement. “Look, about that Friday I-”

“Can I just-” He cuts me off, leaning forwards and opening his hands out as he mulls over his next few words. “I’m sorry if it was awkward at all, I didn’t mean for anything to happen and I thought we were fine an’ everything but then I haven’t seen you in two weeks and Ellie keeps saying you’re not comin’ out. Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh god no,” I hurry, “You didn’t do anything it was just - I didn’t expect to wake up..like that...and it was just a really quick change because we’ve never really been close and suddenly it was just, us, like that.”

He nods, pushing a loose curl back a second later that broke free in the motion. He seems understanding as he looks down before leaning his elbows against the table so only the two of us can hear what he’s about to say.

“I know, I didn’t expect it either but, can I just tell you I’m glad that it happened?” He leaves a three second pause for me to flounder in confusion before continuing. “What I told you, ‘bout feeling lonely, it messes with my sleep all the time. I just get stuck in my own thoughts but the night you stayed over I slept fine - perfect even.”

Not sure what else to do with this new information, I nod for him to continue.

“I know we’ve never been close, but hanging out with you just really calmed me down.” He smiles, gaining confidence now in his vulnerability tucked away in our little hiding place. “Thank you for staying.”

“I get what you mean.” I mumble, slightly anxious any of the busy customers with prying eyes could overhear my confession. “I never really know when to stop working and I think I got the best night sleep on your sofa I’ve had in awhile, which really speaks volumes about how crappy my mattress is.”

He chuckles. Relief seems to settle in as he lets his shoulders relax and face soften.

“I was thinking - especially now that I know it was good for you as well, maybe it could become more of a regular thing?” He asks, his forefinger and thumb pinch together and twist one of his rings a little - a nervous habit, I’m sure.

“How do you mean?”

“Like..when we all go out, maybe we go home together, you know - so we can sleep better.” He moves down to focus on the metal rose he’s still fumbling at. “If..if you don’t want to or you think it’d be weird it’s fi-”

“I’d like that.” I reach forwards to comfort him, absentmindedly cupping my fingers around his. “I think it’d be nice, to get a good night's sleep I mean.”

“I’m glad.” He beams.

“..That and you make a mean blueberry pancake.” I tease, earning a light chuckle from Harry.

Just like our last cafe encounter, the ping of a his phone beats me to my new few words. He checks it quickly, shaking his head and glancing down the large room to the shop front where, once again, Jeff waits. He seems a little more agitated this time, waving vigorously whilst trying not to attract the attention of passersby, all rather unsuccessfully.

“Bollocks okay - I’ve gotta go,” Harry swears, collecting his coffee from the table and pushing his chair back quickly. “I’ll just - we can text before we go out next yeah?”

“Cool, yeah - wait a sec, let me just give you my number.” I reach up for him to hand me his phone but he doesn’t make any effort to move, instead he blushes slightly and stares at the floor. “..What?”

“I um, I already have it.” He fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck before talking again. It’s hard not to remember how it felt when it was my fingers carding through his brown curls. “I got it from Theo awhile back when we were going to this thing, felt weird not having it. I hope that..okay and everythin’”

I nod, smiling up at him. The idea of him having a part of me for this past year without me even knowing is oddly precious. The fact that he felt odd about not having my number and going to the effort of getting it from Theo was unbelievably endearing.

“That’s fine, helpful actually.” I smile still, “Text me before we meet everyone and we’ll make a plan or somethin’”

“Okay,” He smirks, his slight cocky nature reemerging. “Will do, Liv. See you soon?”

“See you soon.”

Jeff flies a hand up to his hair like before but this time is met with a grinning Harry who doesn’t seem to mind so much.

. . . . .

Unknown Number

‘Hey! Is tonight good? We can slip off after drinks at the gallery. H x’

I look down at my phone. Caught off guard by the sudden text, I’d almost forgotten out arrangement. Julia invited us all to a gallery opening of one of her friend's new exhibits. Even as I flicked through my wardrobe for the right jacket, I hadn’t put two and two together and realised I’d be seeing Harry again for the first time since our chat at Blondies four days ago.

I save his number and I think quickly, not wanting to leave him on read when he knew I’d be leaving to see them all any second and most likely spend the whole tube journey on my phone.

‘Hi :) That’d work for me yh, just let me know when you want to leave and I’ll make an excuse. Liv x’

With another thought rushing through my head, I send a quick follow up.

‘Can we keep this between us right now? Might be a bit tricky to explain to the others.”

Harry

‘Read my mind love.’

‘See you in a bit :)’

I’m still not the hugest fan of the airy feeling that rushed through my stomach as I read over the pet name. He was just from Manchester, it was normal up there to call everything by casually affectionate little names. It didn’t mean anything at all.

. . . . .

“Livia!” Nick calls out when he sees me scanning over the faces at the entrance to the gallery. I smile instantly and make my way over, quickly falling into his arms as he rocks us for a second. “Haven’t seen you in an age!”

“‘Ve been working, we can’t all piss about Monday to Friday.” I giggle, smiling wide as he murmurs something under his breath and plants a big kiss on my cheek. “Is everyone here?”

I try not to look suspicious when I peak over around us, trying to pick a certain brunette from the crowd.

“Yeah, they’re just over there with Julia’s friend.” Nick points and I see him immediately. He’s dressed just as I expected - half gucci half grandpa sweaters. “I’m gonna get us drinks, meet you there?”

“Mhmmm” I hum, breaking out of his hold and slipping through the crowds to our small group of friends.

“Hi!” Julia smiles brightly. She hugs me quickly before stepping aside to give Eleanor and Theo their turns. They all whisper quiet ‘Missed yous’ in my ear as if I’ve been gone for years.

“Hey,” Harry appears by my side as everyone else turns their attention to the front of the crowd where it looks like the artist is setting up to introduce the night. “How’ve you been?”

“In the last four days?” I chuckle, “Good. Not been sleeping great, but I’ve got a lot of work done so that’s been great.”

He nods approvingly. A smile tugs at his lips at the mention of sleep, almost like some secret inside joke we’ve managed to form between just the two of us.

“Me neither. Jeff’s been buggin’ me what feels like every hour with deadlines.” I find myself squeezing his hand a little under his long coat sleeves so nobody can see. “Looking forward to just collapsing tonight, if I’m honest.”

“Me too.” I smile tiredly, tonight had been a big ask come to think of it. I've had work piled up twice my height all week and even having worked day in and day out I’ve still only made a crack in the mountain of final edits and emails to respond to.

Harry squeezes my fingers back and our hands linger in each other's hold until Nick emerges beside us and the artist begins her speech.

. . . . .

The comfortable chatter surrounding the booth we’d taken up a few hours ago died down as the clock ticked later and later. We’d left the gallery a while ago now in favour of the after party at a pub down the road but by now the heavy scent of beers and various gin based concoctions were giving us all headaches.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night guys,” Harry announces, a slew of groans following from the group. “Sorry, sorry! It’s been great but it’s getting late.”

Julia and Theo move out the way to let him out the booth. He slides across the red cushion to stand, pulling his coat over himself as he sneaks a quick look at me.

“I think I’m gonna head off too,” I smile, waiting for Eleanour to stand and let me out as another wave of complaints flooded me. “Sorry! I’ve got work and the tube’ll be hell any later.”

“Well if Harry’s going too couldn’t he take you home?” Julia suggests, looking between the two of us as we now stand slightly away from each other. “You drove right?”

“Yeah, I did.” Harry turns to smile at me, amused clearly by how our plan was being unknowingly encouraged by our friends. “C’mon, I’ll drive yeh.”

I nod, biting back a smirk. We say our goodbyes and wave as we slip out the heavy pub doors out onto the road outside. It’s started to drizzle slightly and I resent choosing the jacket without a hood.

“I’m just over here,” Harry points a little ways off. “Hurry, think it’s about to pour.”

We walk quickly down the street and through a metal gate into a car park when there’s a loud rumble of thunder and immediately the rain thickens.

“Fuck!” Harry laughs as he scrambles for his keys, we match each other's paces until we’re practically sprinting to his car in the far corner of the lot. The click of the locks sounds out and his lights flash red a second before we’re both pulling the doors open and throwing ourselves inside onto warm seats.

We catch our breath, chests rising and falling with uneven pants before our laughter settles and Harry slots the keys into the ignition.

. . . . .

“Do you want anything to eat?” Harry asks as he closes his front door behind us and we kick out shoes off in his hall. “I think I have some takeout menus somewhere..”

“I’m not really hungry, thanks though,” I cut off his search as he walks through to his kitchen and starts opening draws. “Kinda just wanna go to bed now.”

He nods and rubs a hand under his eye in silent agreement of my exhaustion.

“I’ll make us a tea, meet you up there yeah?” He calls over his shoulder, having turned quickly to retrieve various packets from his cupboards. “Chamomile okay?”

“Yeah chamomiles good,” I hover for a second in the archway leading into the kitchen, suddenly awkward to be alone in his house again. “Where um..where is it?”

He looks over his shoulder at me, slightly confused. His eye brows unfurrow when I motion behind me.

“Oh- just up the stairs and third room down the hall..on the left.” He smiles, turning back to the cupboard to look through his extensive mug collection.

I nod to myself, spinning on my heel and making my way up his stairs. I’ve never gone beyond the downstairs of his house before and even then I stuck to the kitchen, dining room and lounge. It felt odd to suddenly have access to something as intimate as his bedroom, I try not to overthink things as I push open the third door I see.

The first thing I see is his large bed, there’s probably enough room for three people on it and there’s definitely enough pillows to go around. The room as a whole is tidy, whether it’s always like that or only organised so precisely for my visit, I don’t know, but the thought makes my stomach flutter.

I walk up to the side of the bed with no charger on it’s table and set my bag down. We hadn’t talked about the logistics of our...arrangement, but I’d brought the basics to last me through the night. I plug my charger into the wall and take out my wash bag and a set of clothes to sleep in before sliding my bag under the table. I look around for a second. Somehow I hadn’t really thought through the fact that by the end of the night, I’d be in Harry’s bed. With Harry. In a completely platonic way with the only function to soothe our mutually crappy sleeping habits.

I hear Harry walking up the stairs just as I slip into the un suit to wash up and get changed. He’s humming a song under his breath. The clink of mugs being set down is followed by wardrobe doors opening and closing and a light thud of clothes being thrown on the bed.

I wait a few minutes to make sure I don’t walk in on him changing. Opening the door tentatively, I step out into the room in a large sweater and pajama shorts. Harry turns to look at me, he’s in the same t-shirt he wore last time and a pair of boxer shorts and the whole situation suddenly seems so amusing. After just one night of falling asleep on the sofa together, not having ever talked before, here we are standing at our most vulnerable about to cuddle in his bed together.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” He nods, looking down at himself. “Hope this is okay...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or-”

“It’s fine,” I reassure him, “I didn’t really know what to wear either.”

His eyes flicker down my body and he smiles back up at me. He motions to the bed and we both nod a little awkwardly before making our way over to our sides. I climb in and instantly let a small groan out as my body sinks into the mattress, the pillows and duvet feel almost like a cloud as I burrow under and pull my tea up to my lips.

Harry chuckles from beside me, I peak over the mug to seem him grinning down from where he sits slightly taller in the bed.

“Sorry, you look comfy.” He laughs a little,

“I am, your bed’s insane.” I set my mug down and turn to him, bouncing slightly to emphasise the quality of his mattress that probably cost more than a year of my rent. “I really should start earning millions, feel like it’d suit me.”

He returns his tea to the bedside table and copies me, turning to face me with his legs crossed.

“It definitely would.” He smiles, bouncing a little before I let out a yawn. “Tired?”

“Exhausted.” I mumble, hand still covering half my face. Harry reaches behind him to turn to switch the lights above his headboard off before pulling the duvet back for us to slip under.

“C’mere,” Without hesitating, I shuffle back slightly until I can feel his chest behind me and an arm come up to rest around my hip. “‘This okay?”

“Mhmmm,” I hum, “What about our teeth?”

“We’ll brush ‘em in the morning,” I nod, groaning again as all the aches in my body subside as I sink into his arms and the foam mattress. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I mumble, embarrassed to have let myself go so easily around him. “Your mattress is just unbelievable. Might have to make this a regular thing.”

I speak before I think, mind clouded with sleep and my eyes already fighting to stay open.

“That’s the plan, love.”

. . . . .

When I wake up, Harry’s arms are tight around my middle and his body’s like a furnace behind me. I vaguely recall pulling my sweater off in the night to cool down as I lay now only in a vest and shorts. I slept better than I have in months though, despite the warm breaths on my neck turning my cheeks flushed.

The mix of Harry’s company and his safe haven of a mattress made for the perfect night sleep. I push back slightly into his chest and feel his arms tighten around me and a low murmur of his voice in my ear. The clock on my bedside table reads 6:30. It’s a Saturday and I can quite easily imagine spending the rest of my day - weekend even, exactly like this.

I slip back to sleep for a little awhile before I’m woken up to a low groan behind me. Harry shifts slightly, burying his face in the base of my neck and squeezing around my waist again. He must still be half asleep to be this comfortable with me.

I’m proven right when it takes another fifteen minutes for him to poke his head up over my shoulder and mumble:

“Breakfast?”

. . . . .

Our routine works smoothly for weeks. After sleeping so well the first few times, it became a given that we’d pile into Harry’s car after every night out with our friends and go back to his. Sometimes we’d get takeout or watch a film, but it wasn’t so rare that we’d just stumble out of his car, or a taxi - depending what the night had entailed, and walk with eyes almost closed straight to bed.

I stopped bringing things every night about two weeks in when a new toothbrush appeared next to Harrys and an oversized t-shirt of Harrys found its way onto my side of the bed. We also ditched the awkward pleasantries. Spending two or three nights a week in his house, I’d become pretty familiar with it all. I sometimes brought us breakfast if it was a weekend, or left a coffee beside the bed for him if I left for work first, We had very easily slipped into an oddly familiar sense of domesticity. It was strange to never mention any of it to our friends, it made it special though. We helped each other, and it was all just between the two of us. Nobody else knew Harry taught me how to make coffee just the way he likes it, or that we share his lavender shampoo sometimes.

“Ols?” Harry calls up the stairs to me. We’re running late to Julia and Theos anniversary dinner.

“Coming!” I yell back, reaching into his wardrobe to snatch a jacket before running down the stares.

“Oi! Slow down love, you’re gonna fall,” He complains, holding his hands out at the bottom of the stairs to catch me as I skid a little on the wooden floors of his hallway. “Hey! This’s mine!”

He tugs playfully on the opening of his jacket. I pull the fabric from his grasp and smile up at him.

“Not anymore…” He scrunches his nose up and pulls me towards him. The sudden movement pushed the air from my lungs suddenly. “-Fine! Just for tonight...nobody’ll notice anyway, you only just got his one.”

He shakes his head, bringing his fingers up to tickles across my stomach quickly before letting me go and clapping his hands.

“Shoes now!” He points down at my sock clad feet, “Come on we’re late already.”

I sling my bag over my shoulder and slip my boots on before trailing after him to the front door. He’s pulled his large green coat off the hangar before he’s looking back down at me, brows pulled together in confusion.

“What’ve got yeh bag for?”

“Ah see Harry, I tend not to leave my stuff places I don’t actually live.” I laugh.

“You’re not coming back tonight?” The confusion’s not joined by a hint of sadness as his hands fall from the door knob and he turns to face front on.

“Oh I..hadn’t thought ‘bout that. I’ve gotta water my plants.” I haven't been home in two days, I spent the whole day at Blondies yesterday then headed to Harry's after a few drinks with him and Nick. We’ve hung out around his house all day, sleeping in and finishing our last few bits of work for the week. “I can let them go a little dry I guess-”

“Can I come to yours?” Harry cuts me off to ask. “It’s just, I haven’t ever seen it..and that way your plant’ll be fine.”

I stay quiet for a second. Our world of sleepovers and movie marathons and home made curries for dinner existed within his house. My flat was small in comparisons to the homes of our friends, who were all, delicately put, pretty well off. Not that I wasn’t, I’d just gone into a lower paying area of my industry. I lived alone anyway so there wasn’t much point paying thousands in rent when I didn’t need much space.

“It’s fine it you want a night to yourself I can just-”

“It’s not that, H, I just didn't really think about how we only ever come here.” I mumble the last part, “Come back to mine, I don’t feel like going back on my own anyways.”

I smile a little, unsure of where we stand on the whole admitting we’d grown pretty dependent on each other’s presence, front. He smiles back, twisting the door open and holding it for me as I slip under his arm.

The car clicks unlocked and I settle into my seat. I reach over to push my seat belt in as Harry pulls his door shut and the car rumbles to a start.

“Can’t believe Jules and T have been together so long.” He sighs as we pull out onto the main road.

“Tell me about it,” I gaze out the window as rain dribbles lightly. “Feels like the year just went straight by.”

“They seem so happy still, like they’re still honeymooning,” Harry hums.

“I remember when they just started going out in Uni, even then it was obvious they’d end up together.”

“I like those kinds of people. The ones who make each other just completely themselves, ya know?” He glances over at me before turning back to the road.

“Yeah...they’re proper soulmates aren’t they.”

. . . . .

“Okay but seriously, what the fuck is up with you and Harry?” Eleanor bursts out as soon as we reach the bar. We’ve been sent off to get the third round whilst the others stayed at our favourite booth of the pub we frequented.

“Wait what?” I yell over the loud chatter of the pub, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean!” She’s still waving her hand out for the bartender when she glances down at me again. “You’re tryna say you’re suddenly so close and nothing’s happened between you?”

“We’re not that close.” I quip, “We’ve just talked a bit more lately, I guess.”

“And nothing’s happened?” She raised a brow at me suspiciously. “You guys have left together every night for the past few weeks, just admit you have feelings for each other.”

“No, nothing’s happened.” I sigh, unsure if I sound convincing or not. “We just live close and it’s too cold now to get the tube back so late, he’s just being nice. You know Harry...he’s like that with everyone.”

Eleanor laughs a little, shaking her head. She places our order with the bartender when he makes his way to our side of the bar before turning back to me with her arms crossed.

“He’s nice to everyone, but he’s not just being nice to you.” She smirks, “And he usually doesn't give just anybody his clothes.”

She reaches out and rubs the fabric of my - Harrys - jacket between her thumb and forefinger. She looks up and quirks her brows up a little again. Before I can splutter out an explanation our drinks are being laid out on the counter beside us and Eleanor is pointing to the ones for me to carry and turning back to our booth.

A surge of anxiety washes over me as I follow Eleanor back to the group. My breaths feel unsteady and I can’t help but dart my eyes to get a quick glance at Harry to see if he’s experiencing the same kind of interrogation. He seems fine though, laughing at something Nicks said.

Soon we’re at the booth, slipping back into our seats and setting the drinks out in front of everyone. Harry’s eyes hover on me for a few seconds, brows raised a little in question. I smile and shake my head - everything’s fine.

I don’t miss how Eleanor glances between us throughout the whole night. Especially not when a different two get up for the next round and Harry and I are pushed next to each other when they climb back into the available seats. Harry seems a little suspicious too. He clearly hasn’t noticed Eleanor’s strange behaviour - or doesn’t care - because he’s kept gazing down at me every now and then since we came back with drinks hours ago. When I stop looking up at him, nervous Eleanor might question me about his constant and slightly nervous glances when we’re alone, he reaches his hand under the tables and pulls mine into his lap. He squeezes our hands every now and then. He’s always a touchy, cuddly drunk. Normally it’s a bit more obvious; he’ll wrap his arms around one of us on the dance floor or lap his head on a shoulder, nothing too intimate. Just friendly. But now he’s stroking his thumb over my knuckles and tapping out the beat of the current song playing with his foot, his knee bumping mine.

Julia and Theo are the first to go. Relief settles in me at the idea of not being the first two to leave for once. There’s no way Eleanor wouldn't’ve have noticed me and Harry sneaking the other a glance like we usually do to signal we’re ready to go, without some kind of distraction.

“It was so lovely guys, feels like we haven’t just sat down and talked in so long!” Julia smiles, leaning into Theos side tiredly as they say their goodbyes.

“I think I’m gonna head off too, it’s getting pretty late,” I smile, waiting for Harry to speak when Theo pipes up before him.

“Livs, you want a lift?” Theo looks down at me.

“Oh Olivia, that’s a good idea, you were just saying how it’s too cold for the tube.” Eleanor beams, smiling cheekily as she knows I’m the only one who’ll understand her subtle teasing.

“Oh I-” I stutter before Harry’s squeezing my hand again and looks up at Theo.

“I was actually gonna take her home, we’re only 10 minutes apart so it’s just easier.” He smiles politely, if I couldn’t feel his foot hooking over mine I’d believe he was just being nice and helping out a friend.

“Yeah but you’re gonna stay a little while aren’t you?” Julia countered, “We’re pretty close, it’s fine really.”

I nod, motioning to slide out of the booth. Harry lets me by, dropping my hand before anyone else could see. Julia, Theo and I say goodbye quickly and head out to the car park. As soon as we’re all strapped into their car, I pull out my phone and click Harry’s contact.

Meet me at mine x

Harry

Okay - what was that about?

I’ll explain when u get here, just something w Eleanor

U might have been right about the jacket :/

Theo pulls up outside my flat and I jump out the car, thanking them quickly and waving them off. I climb the stairs of my building and click the keys in my door, pushing it open and kicking my shoes off the second I get in. After a fifteen minute frantic clean, the place is looking slightly better. There’s no time to perfect it as I hear my phone buzzing on the counter, a dorky photo of Harry in one of his infamous sweaters all sprawled out on the sofa and sticking his tongue out at me flashes the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m just outside,” He talks softly, “What number are you?”

“24, wait a sec and I’ll buzz you up.”

I tread quickly to the button by my front door and let him up, hearing a quiet thanks over the phone and a “See you in a sec” before the line goes dead.

A minute later there’s a quiet knock at my door. I open it and see Harry, he looks a little more tired than when I left him forty minutes ago, he rubs his knuckles under his eyes and sighs softly.

“Hey, come in.” I pull the door a little wider, stepping aside to let him inside. He walks past me, eyes watching the floor whilst I lock the up behind us and turn to face him. There's an awkward tension in the air that I haven’t experienced with Harry before, maybe a little that first night when I walked in on him in his kitchen, but nothing like this since we’ve gotten closer.

“What happened?” He asks quietly, lifting his head with an uncertain look on his face.”You barely even looked at me.

“I..” I stumble over what to say, I’ve been thinking I could just explain what Eleanor had said and have it done with but now I know we’re not going to be able to just leave this. If somebody’s going to find out about our arrangement then something would have to change. “Ellie thinks there’s something going on with us and she kept staring all night. I just, I couldn’t give her anything to be suspicious about.”

“S’that what you mean about the jacket?” I nod, “What did she say?”

“Just that we seemed closer, talk more I guess.” I sigh, “She didn’t believe anything I said.”

“What did you say?” He presses. His tone is unclear, he seems less hurt now and more focussed on getting answers from me.

“I just, I told her nothing’s happened.” I mumble, “She asked about us leaving together and I told her it was just because we lived close and it’s easier than the tube.”

Harry bobs his head a little, taking in what I’ve just told him before laughing a little. He shakes his head and brings his palms up to his face, cursing under his breath. We stand in the quiet of my hallway before he speaks up again.

“Can we still do this?” That catches me off guard. Of course I knew we’d have to stop sometime when one of us started dating or a friend found out, I just hadn’t thought seriously about it happening anytime soon. “If she does find out, would that be the worst thing in the world?”

I shake my head, taking a step towards him to close the gap between us that’d been building my nerves throughout this whole exchange.

“I don’t wanna stop hanging out.” I confess. Harry quirks his lips up a little, obviously relieved as he pulls me to his chest. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and rests his chin on my head as we breathe together for a moment. All the while we’ve been spending nights at his, there’s been no serious moments like this. We’ve opened up about vulnerable subjects and confessed more than we probably should have to each other, but never anything like this. There’d never been a time I thought I could lose him.

“What if something did happen.” He whispers into my hair.

“Like what?” I murmur, voice a little muffled by his jacket.

“Like..” He trails off a little and I’m pretty sure I hear him inhale a little and smell my hair. “Like what if I kissed you..or something.”

“Or something?” My chest tightens, stomach fluttering suddenly.

“Mmhhhmm,” He hums, “What would happen then?”

“Eleanor would have a field day.”

Harry laughs, shoulders shaking a little as he giggles above me. He loosens his grip on my and pushes away to create a little space to see me again.

“Oh yeah?” He teases.

“Uh huh,” I smile, “She’d never let us forget it if she knew she was right.”

“And what would she be right about?” Harry lifts his hand to cup my face, tilting it slightly to make sure I’m staring right up at him.

“..Something..happening.” I whisper, “Having feelings for eachother.”

Harry grins, cheeks a soft rosy between the outside cold and the new blush. He strokes the pad of his thumb against my cheek and beams down at me.

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh…”

“Really..she’d be right about that?”

“I’m pretty sure-”

Before I can tease anymore, Harry’s leaning down to press his lips against mine. I inhale sharply, closing my eyes and looping my arms around the back of his neck to hold us in place. His hand still holds my face firmly, thumb fluttering over my cheek a couple times before he pulls away and we both breathe in deep.

“She’s definitely right.” He smiles, tone turning serious for a moment. “I really like you Olivia.”

Butterflies surge through my stomach for the millionth time since he walked through my door. Blushing and happy, I tighten my arms and push my face back into his shoulder.

“I like you too H….just a little bit.”

“We don’t have to tell anyone, just want this to be ours for a little while.” I can hear the smile in his voice as he leans back down to whisper into my ear.

“I want this to be ours forever.” I hum, words quiet and part of me hoping he doesn't hear my honest confession.

A comforting quiet settles over us. I remember how tired I really am as I melt further into Harry’s body, breathing in the sweet cinnamon and vanilla scent. His breathing lulls me half to sleep as I let my eyes flutter shut and bury my head further into his neck. I feel him lifting me up as my body relaxes against his and I catch his last few words before I he’s shifting me into his arms and walking us up the stairs.

“I could hold you ‘n listen to your voice all night long, love.”

. . . . .

“Oh my god!” Julia yells out, unravelling a long shawl from pristine white tissue paper. “Okay whoever got me, thank you so much!”

She continues to squeal a little as he wraps it over her shoulders and presses the end to her nose, inhaling the lavender scent of her favourite designer brand.

I’d only spent one Christmas with the whole group before but it was clear secret Santa was a bit of a tradition. Between the six of us we all had other friends, family and mostly, relationships. Organising a secret santa within our group just relieved some of the stress of present buying - and it was fun.

We’re all sitting around Harry’s living room, it felt the homiest to us after all. The kiddy advent calendar I bought for him hung by the fireplace reading December 21st. We’ve all finished our egg nogs, meaning it was officially present time. Over the next few days we’ll all be driving up and down the country to visit family, meaning today’s the last day most of us will be seeing each other. Harry had whined about me leaving, begging me to stay another day with him or better yet - spend christmas with his family up north.

It was when I told him my own parents were spending the holidays visiting my sister and her kids in New York that his campaign started. We kissed almost three months ago now and have been on a slew of dates since. Between all the secret dinners out, brunches and farmers market trips, we haven’t found time for the talk. We had no official title. I’ve heard Harry refer to me as “m’girl” a couple times when I’ve wandered into the kitchen and overheard him on the phone to mitch, but nothing he’s told me himself. Despite this, he still insists I have to come and spend christmas with him and his close family. The idea of me hanging out with my young cousins and distant relatives apparently doesn’t satisfy him.

“Are you serious!” Eleanor gasps as she unwraps her own present. Everyone had picked the perfect gifts for each other this year. In a pure coincidence, I ended up with Harry’s name after Nick made me trade because he’d already bought Julia’s present for her. I’ve been nervous about it all evening, I was sure he’d like it, a little too sure. That was the problem. One night, wrapped up in Harry’s bed, he’d recalled his latest tragedy to me: He’d taken shroom with Mitch on his last trip to LA and subsequently decided to skinny dip in the sea, losing his favourite mustard cords in the process. The only times we’ve seen everyone else has been with the both of us present and , to my knowledge, he hasn’t mentioned this to anyone else. The brown paper package that sat on the coffee table could invite a few more questions that I was prepared to answer.

“Harry, you’re next!” Ellie grinned, hugging her present to her chest.

Thanks to our early secrecy, there’s been no opportunity to tell our friends we were dating. Eleanor hasn’t stopped her constant questioning but we’ve kept up a pretty good front of excuses. It was still freezing out so it made sense for us both to climb into his car together at the end of the night. Nobody had to know we would be going home to the same house where we’d climb into the same heavenly bed and scramble eggs together in the morning.

“I’m going, I’m going!” Harry laughs as Ellie tries to hurry him up, playing perfectly into her role as the youngest in our group.

He pulls the first fold of paper back with his ringed fingers and immediately looks up at me as the mustard fabric shines up at him. He grins wide, beaming back at me before pulling the rest of the paper back and laying the trousers out in front of him.

“No babe...where did you find them?” He’s running his fingers down the cord, in awe to have his favorite trousers back - or at least a copy.

I don’t miss how Eleanor and Nick’s heads turn to share a look of shock as the pet name tumbles out. Before I can put anything together, Harry’s standing and leaning over the coffee table. He wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a hug and whispering his thanks in my ear.

“Wait I dont - how did you know it was h-” Julia pipes up, before she can finish she’s cut off by the joint gasps of Nick and Ellie as Harry plants a wet kiss to my cheek - then my lips, and laughs at our friends reaction.

“I knew it!” Ellie yells, pointing frantically between the two of us, Harry now having stepped over the table and come to sit next to me, pulling me into his side.

“What was-” Julia stammers, “Since when!”

Harry’s eyes flutter down to my face. He giggles quietly when he catches on to my glare. This wasn’t exactly how I’d imagined the evening going.

“Have you just been lying to my face for the past three months?” Ellie asks, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting her lips.

“Five,” Harry mumbles, almost just as an inside joke for the both of us to enjoy. I slap my hand against his shoulder to shut him up but the damage is already done.

“Five months!” Even Theo’s joining in now. “How didn’t we know?”

“It didn’t start out like this honestly, we would’ve told you.” I try and explain, eager for this to quiet down so we could get to the roast dinner waiting for us in the oven.

“How did it start?” Nick pokes, drawing Julia and Ellie’s attention as the same puzzled expressions adorn their faces.

“Unimportant,” Harry brushes off, standing up to tower over us all and reaching a hand back for my own. “We better get dinner, we wouldn't want burnt potatoes.”

Harry pulls on my arm gently, leading me out the room before anyone can object.

In the kitchen, he picks up a tea towel and starts to check on the food, prodding at the parsnips. I roll my eyes as he ties his lavender apron around his waist and tentatively pulls the potato tray from the oven.

“Harry..” I sigh, trying not to laugh as he turn to face me, spatula in hand.

“Yes dear?”

“What was that?”

“Oh - You’ve gotta shimmy a little spatula under the potatoes or they’ll break apart-”

“No, obviously not that,” He makes it so hard so stay stern, a giggle leaks out as he lifts a hand to rest on his hip. “Why did you do that?”

“I want them to know.” drops his utensils, tone sincere as he takes another step towards me. “I want our friends to know how much I love you already, and you remember about my mustard cords so..it felt like the perfect time.”

“What?” I stutter, looking up at him from where he’s pulled me into his chest. His hands rest on my waist, rings a little hold against my exposed skin.

“You remembered the trousers I lost last month in LA -”

“You love me?”

His eyes go a little wide, a smile peaking through as the sides of his mouth quirk upwards. Realising what he just said, he lifts a hand from my waist to rest it against my face and lean down a little.

“Of course I love you.” He whispers, his voice a little croaky and I can see tiny droplets gathering in his eyes that make my heart flutter.

“Love you too..” I mumble. I wipe a thumb over his cheek before pulling him down into a kiss. I feel his smile against my own, and everything’s perfect for just a second.

“So you’ll come to Christmas with me?”

. . . . .

Hiii I hate the ending :)

Tysm for reading !! pls leave a like or reblog (it rlly helps <3) if you enjoyed it x

#Harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #stellarboystyles3years #“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”#dani's masterlist #dani's writing #fan fic #harry styles #nick grimshaw #reader #idk #what do u even put in tags #christmas vibes?#friends to lovers

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sarcastic-pasta-games · 3 years

Text

Hello everyone,

We haven’t been updating this page as much as we should. We’re working daily on the game and have made a lot of progress. The reason we keep pushing it back isn’t because of laziness, it’s because we’re probably underestimating the amount of work there is to do. Just because it’s theoretically easy to go in and program a scene doesn’t mean it doesn’t take a lot of tedious testing, checking methods, tweaking timing, and all kinds of other things. A lot of our scenes still have comments in them for sound or visual effects we don’t have yet and, as always, the writing team is on top of things making sure the dialogue is the best it can be before it goes out.

As a playtester noted yesterday, this chapter is the most eclectic thing we’ve ever done, with 4 very distinct individual areas that feel like their own games. We’re also using it to build up a lot of plot elements that will be explored in Chapter 3, which in turn will build up Chapter 4. Adding to that, this chapter has 21 new musical tracks (ranging from some made in 2018 and one made literally yesterday, as of the time this is being written). There are some in progress as well. As for play length, it wouldn’t surprise us if it took a good 3 or 4 hours, depending on how thorough you are. This is definitely longer than Chapter 1 and even feels, in a way, rather like its own game.

I’m putting the rest under a cut because I’m going to discuss things that have been revealed in trailers but I don’t want to spoil it for anyone who hasn’t seen them. So if you’re up to date on the game, you can read on and there won’t be anything all that new.

The playtester in question absolutely adored Wheatley in this chapter, which made Sushi and me very happy because we’d been working hard on his dialogue for several months. You’d be surprised how accurately you can write it with Stephen Merchant’s original performance being fully available online. Over an hour of nothing but Wheatley talking. You start thinking in his voice after a while. I was in a voice call helping the tester through a section and started improvising some Wheatley lines that were so spot on, we actually wrote them out and intend to add them. So Wheatley fans, rejoice because we had a blast with him! And if you’re not a Wheatley fan... hopefully you can find some enjoyment out of the Portal section because Sushi and I had so much fun writing for him, we couldn’t help but really commit to his character. Shout out to our amazing VA, SoggyEchidna because he’s got a lot of lines. He’s also our Connor VA too! Talk about opposite ends of the AI spectrum...

We’ve pretty much said as much on the server but each member of PSE gets their own section (which is why there are 4). This isn’t unlike the horror section in The BOSS, but it’s far more eclectic. Some of the things you’ll see have also given way for some of the best out-of-context quotes in the entire game’s development, which we’ll share after the chapter comes out. You can expect a bit more information on the things we set up in Chapter 1 and some plot threads that were introduced there will be tied up in this one but don’t worry, there’ll be plenty of new ones introduced in this chapter as well!

And finally egos. I think we revealed one of the egos who will appear but you will meet more egos in this chapter than the others. You can expect them to be as developed as Schneep, for the most part. They get their spotlight for sure, but as we’ve said before, keeping them close to canon or especially well developed would overload the story too much, but I assure you we have given them very distinct and quirky personalities.

I know it seems like I’m saying quite a lot, but I feel like I’ve just found a way to write quite a lot to say what equates to about 1% of the chapter so far, and none of it is particularly new information. I sincerely hope you’ll love it as much as you loved Chapter 1. As for me, I’m most excited for Chapter 4, but I’ve had a lot of fun with this chapter as well! This is somewhat unintentional, due to the fact that a lot of it came out purely by coincidence, but this chapter more than any other serves as a pretty satisfying epilogue for The BOSS and The BOSS Is Nothing. So I’d recommend replaying them before the chapter comes out, because there are probably more nostalgic references here than anything else in the rest of the game.

Right, that’s enough from you, Katie. Don’t overload them. If you’ve made it this far, thank you so much and I’ll try to keep you in the loop more as development goes on.

#sarcastic pasta games #glitch in the system

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nctinfo · 4 years

Text

[TRANS] WayV’s interview with ELLE Korea May 2020 issue!

— Kun

A suffering leader, everyone's Kun — With a meticulous personality. The pros and cons would be: I think I am the leader thanks to my sense of responsibility and delicacy. [But] when there is too much to take care of, it is a bit cumbersome. There’s no member who gives me a hard time because they all pick on me one by one (laughs). If I had to introduce my hometown, Fujian Province, it's a quiet city with clean air and few people. Many people come to visit because the mountains and the lakes are beautiful. When I think about nature, I start missing my hometown. At school, I was the head of the student council's entertainment department. I might look like a serious person since the members are so active and mischievous, but I'm also a fun person. Times when I feel like we’re one team are when you know what the others are thinking just by the look in their eyes and, when we dance and the movements are 'synchronised'. WayV to me is the comfort of being able to share everything with each other. All the members worry a lot about music so a lot of ideas come out every time we hear new music. It is certainly an advantage that all seven have a lot of desire. I have a bright young voice, but my desire as a vocalist is to have a thicker and more mature voice these days. Wouldn't it suit dance songs that match our [team's] style more than ballads. I graduated in Practical Music. If there is a song I want to arrange: I'm still trying to look for my style while listening to various songs. I want to challenge not only the arrangement but also the composition. I am a good cook. The dishes I recently made for the members are the dishes that I learned from the main chef of the company while I practiced them [on the members]. The menu with the biggest reaction recently was DongPo Pork. When I can't sleep, I deliberately watch low-rated movies and these days, I watch a four-hour-long landscape video shot from a train driver's perspective. It makes me fall asleep really fast (laughs). The most memorable stage after debuting was as expected, MAMA 2019. When I was giving the award speech, my hand that was holding the microphone was shaking and it was all captured [on camera]. What I want to say to myself in hard times is to be confident! The moment you lose your confidence, everything becomes more difficult. The mindset I don't want to lose is to be grateful. Everything I do right now is impossible to do by myself. This is the most important. To Winwin: who has known me the longest among the members! I hope you always take on challenges with courage because I will always be there beside you to support you. Also, all the members know that you are cute.

— Lucas

Healthy energy, hot Lucas — Between a boy and a man, I feel closer to 100% boy! I don't think I feel mature enough. [Maybe I’m just like] a baby who wants to be a man (laughs). The most impressive man to me is a responsible person. And also, a man who gives everything to his loved ones. Having an attractive rapping sound because of a low and husky voice. My desire to sing is big! I want to sing a sad song. I've heard from people around me that a calm song suits my voice. Like the calm songs of Paul Kim I normally listen to too. My favorite song is "Take Off, The killing point is the dance break, with the powerful guitar riff. Emotion is what is the most important on stage. I believe each song has its own soul, and it is important to immerse yourself. My role in the team is positive energy. Although always looking bright, surprisingly, I have a lot of thoughts. Yesterday too, I had a lot of thoughts before going to bed, so it took me a while to fall asleep. Not long ago, Kun hyung played me a song he had composed and so many ideas came up so I wrote them down and sent it to him. WayV to me is a friendship that feels really deep even though it’s been only a year since I made a debut with the people I love so much. So much that when we come back from a schedule, as we laugh and talk together, the stress will suddenly be gone. The most important thing in a team is to have sincere conversations with each other to understand each other's differences. Only then can we get along well because of the wider understanding. Having appeared in a number of familiar variety shows like the Chinese version of <Running Man> <Let's Run Season 3> I like that I can go to various places the most. It's also a special opportunity to meet people with other jobs and not only artists. I think I'm often called/casted [for these shows] because of my sincere youthful reactions. The mindset I don't want to lose is the promise I made when I debuted to be a good influence on people. That's what I always keep in mind. I want to be a person who always gives positive influence to people, family, and fans around me. To Yangyang: who I know is really smart, you're still a cute little brother to me (laughs)

— Winwin A quiet presence, Winwin — In the reality show <Dream Plan>, mingling well with the elders in the village was impressive. Special trick behind it was thanking them for looking out for me! Since they were all kind natured, I guess treating them with sincerity looked good. When Lucas and I visited their home, we got served a meal and received a warm welcome. A performance video of Ten and I has been released. As a dancer, Ten is a member whose strength is being versatile. He helps the members at dance practices a lot. I’ve learned dancing in a special dance school. At the time I was the shortest and least talkative kid until I grew taller in high school. I’ve spent most of the time practicing alone. Chinese dance is similar to modern dance mixed with ballet. Learning the choreography is fast and it’s an advantage to be skillful in tumbling. I would like to properly showcase a modern dance at a concert someday. When I’m on the stage what I care about the most is my gestures and facial expression. During ‘Take Off’ promotions, the gestures and facial expressions I did during my part varied from stage to stage. I hear that I’m ‘pure’ a lot. A new charm that I want to have: our fans call me ‘Baby Chick’. I want to showcase more of an ‘eagle’ image, so I cut my hair short. Isn’t it similar to Park Saeroy (laugh). Something that makes me angry, although I normally have a good temper is being unsatisfied with stage performance to the point I can’t sleep on that day. But it’s okay to just take a nap. I just need to do better. The most memorable moment in WayV promotions was receiving the Best New Asian Artist Award at the MAMAs, it was the first time we’ve gotten an award together so I was very happy. The reason why I went to Beijing on my own as a middle school student seems to be fate. I passed my exams without much determination, left my hometown and went to school in Beijing where I was noticed and then debuted. Coincidence became fate. To me WayV is a path that we’re talking together, a team with a lot of growth potential. I’d like it if the younger members came to me whenever they need someone. I feel our fans love and support the most when: I’m always amazed and grateful for our fans hearts. All of the people who always look out for us even when we’re not promoting any albums and who support us are an immense source of strength. Success to me is when more people get to know us and we get to perform in many different countries. I want to think about my personal success after my team’s success. To Kun: when members want advice, we reach out to Kun first before our families. He knows a lot, can do a lot, and is a person we can depend on.

— Ten

Ten who is curious about what's next rather than what’s now — The secret to adapting well everywhere is attending an international school. I had friends of various nationalities and I also traveled a lot. Wherever I went, I went to see the common [places] first. Learning an unfamiliar culture is fun. I’m learning Thai, English, Korean, Japanese and now working hard at learning Chinese. I memorize expressions that I can use while watching Chinese variety shows and dramas. Although it's still difficult to read the buzzwords and hanja. The most important thing as a performer, and what makes you an outstanding dancer, is to have your own style while not being trapped by masculinity and femininity. I am different now from a few years ago and I'm trying to challenge myself by being flexible in various aspects. What I've learned since debut is, in the case of WayV, that when you work with various genres the main concern is the vocal style and with SuperM, I learned about the importance of performance through the activities [we did]. 'It's important to dance well, but you must also have your own [style]', 'think about what you want to express in front of the camera, but you must be faithful to your feelings on every stage in order to develop [yourself]' is the advice I received from the Hyungs (Baekhyun, Kai, Taemin). For the dance video that I did together with Winwin, the concept, music, settings, and outfits were all decided by us together without the company's advice. I came to realize the difficulties of being a staff member (laughs). I can [now] see the wider picture and more details. I like poetry too. I think poetry expresses emotions. It helps me understand the world and the society as a person and not as an artist. The lyrics of my 2nd solo song 'New Heroes' feel like an autobiography. If 'Dream in a Dream' was all about the performance then 'New Heroes' is a song about the time spent committing [to something] and I thought anyone can sympathize with that. The [original] lyrics were so great that I asked them not to change it and to just go with it. I want to write lyrics myself someday. The kind of person I want to be is [someone who] always tries to go with the flow as I think that making plans and setting expectations can make it more difficult on yourself. I hope I could be a person who can leave a good impact on others. WayV to me is just like a family who always does everything together and takes care of each other asking ‘have you already eaten?’. Everyone has an open mind to try and accept new challenges. During the 'Moonwalk' promotion period, I was kinda surprised how well we got along. Having received recognition for my skills since debut. The times when the expectations are high are: Art and languages too are ever-evolving disciplines, so it's not easy to keep up. Nevertheless, there are self-expectations and anticipations to show a new side of myself. I will work hard (laughs). I still play Pokemon Go and I'm waiting for the June update. I will catch a lot of new Pokemon again! To Xiaojun: with whom I saw Harry Potter together yesterday! Let's make an appearance in Harry Potter when there is a reboot.

— Hendery

Flexible midfielder, Hendery — Something I’ve gotten into recently is practicing playing drums. Kun hyung is cooking a lot lately so I’ve been reviewing the food too. The other day he made kimchi jjigae so good that it even got an approval from manager hyung. My favourite track is ‘Take Off’. We filmed the music video in Ukraine and spent loads of happy times together, so I feel happier whenever I listen to it. Something I’ve improved on since debut is that recording songs takes less time. When I hear a member of staff say ‘Is this really Hendery’s voice?’ I feel proud of myself. The charm of my vocal is: I’m still looking for it, but I feel like my rap sounds nice when I spice it up with a little melody. Good at giving advice to our members. A tip to giving good advice is: it’s important to have helping and not making decisions in mind. Talk about both bad and good points about the A and B. The secret to always looking like I’m at peace is my parents always telling me ‘Your happiness is the most important. You always have a home to come back to, so work as much as you can enjoy’, thanks to them I grew up as someone with little stress or worries. Mindset that I don’t want to lose is the excitement before going on stage. I think the most important thing for an artist is their greed for performing. When I get on stage the most important is interacting with fans. The most memorable stage was our Korean debut on <Show! Champion>. I couldn’t believe we’re performing Chinese songs in Korea. I was so overwhelmed to see our fans welcoming us so enthusiastically even though they didn’t understand what we were saying. I opened an instagram account recently. My posting plan is ‘This is where I am‘ ‘I am filming today’. I want to showcase my daily self. I hope our fans can smile for a brief moment when they see the pics I had the most fun taking. To me WayV is: I feel empty when I go away to see my family for a little. Every time that happens I facetime them to relieve the sadness. Lucas is the member who picks up the most (laugh). To Lucas: No matter how busy we get, even if we become grandpas, I’ll always be by your side. It’s something I want to say to all of the members, but Lucas is a friend I'm especially attached to so I really wanted to say this.

— Yangyang

Infinite potential, bold maknae Yangyang — I speak Chinese, German, English Korean and Spanish. Great language skills are useful when you travel. Whenever I talk with friends of various nationalities, I think it's fortunate that I can speak many languages. In our team alone, it's full [with people who speak] Chinese, Thai, English, and Korean (laughs). My role in the team is being the happy virus! Although of course, the hyungs think I'm a maknae that requires a lot of energy from them. WayV to me is a high tension team that can deliver strong and positive energy. If someone shows a slight sign of exhaustion, we immediately stick together and somehow infect each other with energy. I think that such energy is conveyed to fans on stage. If I have learned anything from living together with the members [it would be] the habit I have developed to control my greed and to care for others. I'm used to looking at the other's feelings now before doing something. My favorite song is ‘King of Hearts’, because I participated in writing the lyrics. I also love 'Love Talk' from the 2nd mini album. It is a charming song that is sweet and sexy but has a way to make your body move. My ambition as a rapper is the flow. Because I think this is the aspect that determines the impression of a song from the listener's point of view. I want to be a multi-talented person who is good at not only rapping but also dancing, singing, and writing lyrics. I've always had a lot of ambition. The attractive part of writing lyrics is that I can tell my story, since from a long time ago, I wrote lyrics little by little and it's always fun work. I want to steadily keep doing it. I like Virgil Ablo and Demna Gvasalia, and the fashion icon who caught my eye these days is Mike Amirie. I am drawn to people who have a simple yet clear style. The same goes for musicians. I like people who have a clear style like Travis Scott and A$AP Rocky. I’ve said 'I like who I am' before. Instances when I am especially like myself is when I'm confident. When I have confidence and want to show off, I can show much more than my actual skills. I use SNS to check on NBA and fashion news. I see the news on sneakers I'm looking forward to fast. Surprisingly, I don't look up anything about me [but] when a stage or performance is over I do look up the reactions. Most of them are good, so every time I read, I get energized. To Hendery: hyung, you seem to really get into gaming, but don't try too hard (laughs).

— Xiaojun

Warm voice, Xiaojun — Something I’m into these days is practicing the songs that will be included in the next album that we are preparing for. Before debuting, I only sang my favorite ballad song, but nowadays, I want to sing songs of other genres such as R&B. I've been uploading videos of me singing on my personal Instagram. My favorite song is ‘Face to Face’. My heart warms up every time I hear it. I really like the lyrics ‘You won’t be lonely because I’ll be your strength, I won’t let you cope with your wounds alone in silence’. The keywords that describe me are kind. Friendly. Positive. I often say ‘I wish my songs were healing different people’. The way I heal myself is: my heart calms down when I look at pictures with many memories sealed in them. I take a lot of pictures of the scenery and especially when I look at the pictures of my hometown in Guangdong I feel healed. The reason behind my strong sensitivity is the big influence of my dad who’s a singer and my older brother. Ever since I was little we would often watch movies together. I graduated with a musical major. My greed for musicals is: I’ll surely do it again later. I like starring in musicals but one day I’d like to make my own. A musical piece I’d like to recommend is <Dear Evan Hansen> who won at Tony Awards and Grammys. It’s a warm story about a lonely high school boy suffering from social anxiety disorder, who is working on his trauma and healing from the pain. My way of dealing with stress is quiet time on my own. Just like positive energy, negative energy is easily spread to others, so I’d rather be alone. A memory I really want to make is a trip, I promised to go on before debuting, with the members. The destination is still undecided. The kind of team member I want to be is a silent supporter. It would be nice if I can be 'my people/dearest' to others. Something I want to do this year is to have an event for the fans. I like to surprise friends or throw surprise birthday parties. I think fans will love it if we would do a guerilla performance. I told you here so I have to throw [that idea] away and I will prepare something else (laughs). To Ten: You are one of the 'Hyung-line', and you Korean is the best so there are many times you have to lead us. Don't carry everything on your own and sometimes lean on us! The same goes for Kun hyung.

t/n: Due to the structure of this interview there might be inaccuracies as many things only made sense in Korean but sounded kinda awkward in English (more so compared to other translations we did). We tried our best to convey what they meant, but please keep this in mind when reading this interview.

Translation: Alex, Esmee @ FY! NCT (NCTINFO) | Source: ELLE Korea Scans — Do not repost or take out without our permission!

#NCT #wayv #kun #ten #winwin #lucas #hendery #xiaojun #yangyang #t:trans #t:interview #ELLE #ELLE: May 2020

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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How Alias Anticipated Modern Superhero Storytelling

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J.J. Abrams’ spy drama Alias, which turns 20 this week, was a lot of things: high-octane action-adventure series, twentysomethings relationship drama, occasional National Treasure homage. It was also, surprisingly, a spiritual predecessor to today’s hyper-saturated superhero movie and TV universes: A preternaturally gifted fighter, Sydney Bristow (Jennifer Garner) inhabits comic-book-esque alter egos to infiltrate secret missions related to ancient artifacts and promised immortality, all while ensuring that her nearest and dearest don’t know how many times she’s saved the world—or which side she’s really on.

Like the series’ MacGuffin-generating Nostradamus figure Milo Rambaldi, Alias has proven to be somewhat prophetic itself about what makes for the kinds of superhero stories that land today. With some 20th-anniversary hindsight, let’s look back at what made Sydney’s story so super and what lessons Abrams’ ridiculous(ly fun) series can still impart to the current crop of superhero sagas.

The Secret Identity as Kiss of Death

The highest priority that spies and superheroes share is that they cannot get made—that is, have their identity as a larger-than-life individual linked to their “normal” selves. They must always keep their personal and professional personas separate, lest they risk losing the people who know both sides of them. Alias establishes this difficult lesson in the first half hour of the pilot, when Sydney reveals her true work (she thinks SD-6 is just a covert branch of the CIA) to doctor fiancé Danny, only for him to blab about it later and get bloodily taken out in their bathtub. It’s the first time that SD-6 treats its sweet protégée harshly, making clear the consequences of her actions should she open up to anyone else in her life. And then she defects to the CIA, which will be a death sentence for her if SD-6 ever finds out.

Yet beyond the specter of grisly assassination, what the series really digs into is Syd’s growing ethical dilemma about being a double agent where it concerns the actually good people at SD-6, primarily her longtime partner Dixon (Carl Lumbly) and sweetly awkward Q stand-in Marshall (Kevin Weisman). It would be too easy if the series were only about her getting long-game revenge on SD-6 director Arvin Sloane (Ron Rifkin); the real conflict comes from Sydney lying to Dixon’s face on every stakeout, knowing that he still thinks he’s working for the good guys and she can’t ruin that fantasy for him without potentially turning him into collateral damage.

Similarly, the moments in which Sydney’s two (or three) lives begin to collide have other heartbreaking consequences: While the scene in which her best friend Will (Bradley Cooper cast as the friendzoned buddy, amazing) gets kidnapped and sees Syd saving him, is one of the decade’s best laugh-out-loud moments, it also leads to Will going into the Witness Protection Program. His life ends, in a sense, because Sydney couldn’t keep everything compartmentalized. And we haven’t even gotten to the awful fate that befalls her best friend Francie (Merrin Dungey)…

What Alias Predicted: The beating heart (or arc reactor) of many a superhero story is this tension between selves—which means that the big reveal of a secret identity has to be carefully timed and deliberately presented. It’s as emotional as Peter Parker’s (Tobey Maguire) mask getting ripped away when he saves the subway car of people in Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man 2, as big as Spider-Man: Far From Home doxxing that Peter Parker (Tom Holland) in a commentary on fake news, or as pure and simple as Tony Stark (Robert Downey, Jr.) outing himself as Iron Man in the very first installment of the MCU. You cannot unring that bell, so it better be a memorable moment.

What Superhero Stories Can Still Learn: Rev the secret identity stakes back up! Captain America: Civil War ably took on the game-changing Marvel Comics arc of the same name by having heroes collectively unmask, and movies like Spider-Man: Far From Home are still playing out those ramifications. But mostly we see the dangerous ramifications of heroes doxxing themselves, without really digging into the strain for heroes to constantly have to lie about the things that truly matter to them.

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Campy Disguises and Clever Aliases

If you’ve watched Alias or were even vaguely aware of it, no doubt the first thing you envision is Sydney in black leather and bright red hair, a.k.a. her iconic look from the pilot. Her non-SD-6-sanctioned, under-the-radar disguise (impersonating Will’s sister) displays her ingenuity and establishes the series’ brand: attention-grabbing hair paired with increasingly ridiculous outfits, from chain mail waitress ensembles to rubber dresses. She’s played punks, rich bimbos, alluring businesswomen, escorts, and all manner of female personas upon which her marks would project their assumptions—all of which belied her true strength and cunning.

Even when future episodes riffed on the color wheel with teal, magenta, purple, and good old-fashioned blonde wigs, it was still within a clear spectrum established on that pivotal mission, when she channels a silly girl who cares more about the color of her hair than her safety, only to pin her torturer with the same chair to which she’s bound.

What Alias Predicted: I would hazard a guess that Natasha Romanoff’s first appearance in 2012’s The Avengers—a seemingly helpless redhead tied to a chair, about to be nastily interrogated—was a nod toward Sydney’s triumphant pilot mission. What’s more, despite the first ten years of the MCU leaning toward sleek costumes, later phases (like WandaVision‘s cheeky Halloween callbacks) have realized that they can embrace the bold colors and campy designs of the comic-book source material.

What Superhero Stories Can Still Learn: Better to lean into the bold colors and campy designs of the comic-book source material than to go for more sleek and cool. WandaVision did this, albeit cheekily and using the excuse of Halloween, but the nod toward Scarlet Witch’s original outfit was well received. Because any superhero can look cool in leather, but only the standouts can rock color.

Rambaldi Artifacts, Immortality, and Clones

While replicating the romantic dramas of Felicity, Abrams was also playing with early iterations of his signature “puzzle box” narrative style: The pilot has Sydney chasing after the mysterious Mueller device, which turns out to be… a floating red ball… which bursts into water the moment she tries to remove it. That head-scratcher of a device is only one of many inventions belonging to Milo Rambaldi, a fictional Renaissance-era philosopher whose sketches and writings all pointed toward the ultimate endgame: immortality. You know, just normal spy thriller things.

The series saw Sydney and co. chasing after all manner of Rambaldi MacGuffins, from a clock to a kaleidoscope to a music box to flowers that either demonstrated proof of eternal life (by never wilting) or amped up human aggression. Through all of this, it becomes clear that Sloane helped found SD-6 in order to collect all of Rambaldi’s artifacts and capture immortality for himself—even and especially at the cost of people like his daughter, Sydney’s half-sister Nadia Santos (Mía Maestro).

Before we get more into Rambaldi’s prophecies about the sisters, we can��t forget the parallel fever dream of the series: clones! Or, rather, secret agents genetically modified to look like anyone—which means everyone is a suspect. This constant paranoia quickly got out of hand on the series, but its first reveal was perfect TV drama: There’s not an Alias fan who doesn’t remember “Francie doesn’t like coffee ice cream” and the complete devastation that followed—the knock-down, drag-out fight that destroyed Sydney’s apartment just as badly as Danny’s death, but also Sydney’s heartbreak upon realizing that her best friend was already long dead.

What Alias Predicted: The Infinity Stones themselves are less interesting than in various superheroes’ personal connections to them: Loki (Tom Hiddleston) tempted by the tesseract in Thor: Ragnarok; Star Lord (Chris Pratt) and the Guardians of the Galaxy channeling their friendship to withstand the effects of the Power Stone; Wanda Maximoff’s (Elizabeth Olsen) stages of grief as she copes with trying to keep the memory of Vision (Paul Bettany) alive even without the Mind Stone. In short: grounding the most out-there plotlines in the personal ensures they will always land.

What Superhero Stories Can Still Learn: Ground the most bonkers of plotlines in the personal, and they’ll always land.

The Chosen One and the Passenger

This is when the Rambaldi business started getting less National Treasure levels of charming and more outright weird. Turns out the team wasn’t just recovering a treasure trove of artifacts, but also Rambaldi’s prophetic writings—including the mysterious “Page 47,” which featured a drawing of a woman known as the Chosen One… who bears quite the resemblance to Sydney herself. That would be easy enough to dismiss as a strange doppelgänger coincidence, but then comes the reveal of “Project Christmas”: When Syd discovers that she didn’t just stumble into the spy life on her own, but was actually trained as a sleeper agent from childhood, it only amplifies her fears that she has no true agency over her life.

Further Rambaldi writings center Sydney and Nadia into predestined roles as the Chosen One and the Passenger: supposed foes who are fated to clash, with one dying. Nadia getting injected with “Rambaldi fluid” in order to tap directly into the long-dead man’s consciousness (contained within another artifact known as the Sphere of Life) only earns her some nasty apocalyptic visions. But despite their genuine friendship that comes from bonding over their fucked-up childhoods, Sydney and Nadia are forced into that preordained confrontation when the latter is injected with a compound that reduces her to a mindless killing machine… all while a giant red ball is hovering over a city in Russia, because why not. Even after Nadia dies, and is brought back to life, then dies again, with her ghost haunting Sloane as he finally attains immortality, she remains a presence on the series.

There are certainly echoes to Black Widow and how it handles Natasha and adoptive sister Yelena’s (Florence Pugh) strained reconciliation after the older sister got out of the Red Room while the younger was still caught in its web. Their bickering banter about vests and poses, their differing memories of their false childhood, and their respective feelings of abandonment are what elevated Black Widow’s standalone outing—and made it even more tragic, on multiple levels, that this was the only time we would see the two of them in a movie together.

What Alias Predicted: Sister stories are gold! The Rambaldi storylines would mean nothing if they didn’t hinge on a tragically preordained confrontation, just as the MCU’s Red Room depiction seemed overdone until it was presented within the context of multiple generations’ differing experiences with its bloody legacy.

What Superhero Stories Can Still Learn: More stories about sisters! With Nat dead not long after she and Yelena had just started to bond again, it’s vital that Yelena’s future MCU appearances show her still grappling with the little time they got together.

After all, the best superhero stories are the ones that can feel just as fresh now as they did 20 years ago.

Alias is currently streaming on Amazon Prime Video.

The post How Alias Anticipated Modern Superhero Storytelling appeared first on Den of Geek.

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katehuntington · 4 years

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Title: In Bad Waters - part four Word count: ±2800 words Episode summary: Still in possession of the Winchesters’ belongings, Zoë meets up with the hunters on her next case. When it turns out to be a little more complicated than anticipated, she accepts their help in order to make an important deadline. Part four summary: After Dean takes a girl home, Sam goes to look for the huntress who is keeping the brothers’ belongings hostage. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Descriptions of domestic violence/child abuse. Drug use/addiction. Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures/resuscitation. Swearing, alcoholism. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Descriptions of torture and murder, drowning. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Music: Shine On You Crazy Diamond - Pink Floyd Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09 and @deanwanddamons. Thanks, girls!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E02 “In Bad Waters” Masterlist

The nights are mild this November. The moon is almost full and stands high in the dark blue sky. This time it’s not the sun which shines a light on the hundreds of tombstones, neither does the cemetery have a peaceful feel like it did this morning. Trees create long shadows, so black that one would be afraid to walk through its darkness. At this hour the statues of angels and other Biblical figures don’t seem sacred, the figures looming over those who dare to disturb the dead.

Anyone who would walk around the stretched out lands of Linwood Cemetery, would be rather sure the place is deserted. Nevertheless, someone is present. Not a grieving widow or a relative who got left behind, but a person who is, quite literally, digging up some dirt. In a steady rhythm, scoops of soil fly through the air and land on a pile next to a hole in the ground. Down in the grave, Zoë is working like a miner. Even though it’s night, all she’s wearing is a thin Lakers basketball shirt, sweat shimmering on her body as her muscles move under her skin.

For a moment she pauses; she reckons she’s almost there. Out of breath, she listens to her surroundings and scans the area like a periscope of a submarine, popping her head just above ground level. Not a sound, nothing to see, yet she senses something. She can’t really put a finger on it, but glances at the loaded shotgun next to her in the grave nonetheless. She picks up the shovel instead, continuing to dig. Her senses grow stronger and the huntress freezes, picking up the smallest sound. Making a split second decision, Zoë goes for her shotgun, aims on pure gut instinct and fires. The slug demolishes half a gravestone and barely misses the person hiding behind it. “Jesus Christ!” a startled voice cries out. “Friends call me Zoë,” she responds, skillfully discharging the empty shell and reloading her rifle.

She stays low to the ground and focuses on the tombstone from the hole, prepared for a possible counter attack, but nothing comes. “Show yourself,” she commands. A tall figure rises from behind the tombstone, his hands up. “It’s me,” he says. The man steps into the moonlight and Zoë instantly recognizes him. “Sam...” She scoffs, actually not that surprised to see him. “Seriously man, there will come a day that I will kill one of you fucking Winchesters if you keep sneaking up on me like this.”

“How the hell did you even notice me?” Sam questions, disappointed with his own ambushing skills. “Are you kidding me? I can smell you from a mile away after your dive in that septic tank,” she nags. Sam stares at her for a moment and smells himself. “I showered!” he exclaims. Zoë smirks; she can’t believe he actually fell for that. Sam also realizes she is deliberately messing with him and shoots her a deadly glare. “What if I was the night guard?” he tests. “If the night guard enters, I’ll notice it the minute he sets foot in the cemetery.” Zoë puts away her shotgun and picks up the shovel again. Before she continues digging, she looks back up. “What the fuck are you doing here anyway?” Sam approaches the grave. “Looking for you.” “Well, you found me. Now get lost,” the huntress scoffs. “I’m not going anywhere without our stuff, Zo,” Sam states. She stops what she was doing, leaning on the handle of the shovel. “Sure. Just a sec. I’ll just pull your laptop case out of my back pocket and I think I stuffed the two duffel bags in my bra,” she responds, smartly. He glares at her. “Ha-ha.” Zoë continues shoveling dirt, while Sam halts on the edge of the hole in the ground. It’s not the first open grave he has seen, but that’s not what he’s looking at. Zoë has captured his attention, and Sam can’t stop watching. The fabric of her shirt is drenched in sweat, a darker tone between her shoulder blades and down her chest. The moonlight distinguishes hardened arms and shoulders. She might be a lean built woman of no more than 5’8, yet clearly she is well trained. Even though Zoë has been working the soil for some time now, there is no sign of fatigue and every scoop is powerful. Just like that moment in Rochester, yesterday morning, she captivates him in such a way that it seems impossible to keep his eyes off her. When she walked by naked to turn up the radio she meant to get his attention, but apparently this time she feels uncomfortable.

“What do you think this is? BustyAsianBeauties.com?” she remarks, glancing up at the hunter annoyed. “Excuse me?” Sam returns, puzzled. “Don’t get all innocent with me, perv. I happened to stumble on some browser internet history on your laptop, which is full of viruses because of that shit by the way,” she notifies. Sam stares at her staggered, then the light bulb switches on. Rolling his eyes skyward, he huffs. “Dean.” Zoë shrugs, continuing her job at hand. “I don’t really care which of you two can’t get laid enough. Your harddrive was a fucking mess.” “You’ve been on my computer?” It’s not so much a question. The tall Winchester eyes her from under his brown bangs, clearly not happy with her snooping around through his stuff. Zoë has the feeling that this would be a good time to lie, but just to rile him up a bit more, she doesn’t. “I did, actually,” she comments. “Got a problem with that, college boy?” Sam averts his gaze and grinds his teeth, which draws a reaction from Zoë. “Hey, don’t be mad at me. I didn’t fuck up your computer with a dozen porn sites, videos, pi--” “- I’m gonna kill him,” Sam growls. “Oh, don’t wanna miss that.” Zoë turns up the speed, now that she has some extra motivation to hurry up.

The youngest of the Winchester brothers glances down at her again. “So, this is your case?” “I’m not digging up dead people for fun,” she retorts, without pausing. “What’s the story?” Zoë peers at him for a moment, but doesn’t stop with what she’s doing. Not seeing any harm in it, she gives him a brief summary. “Young girl got beat up by her father. One strike killed her.” “Let me guess, what goes around comes around for the dad?” Sam assumes. “Yep. Died yesterday,” she confirms.

Whoa, she’s quick, Sam realizes. It’s not often that he has run a case that fast. “How did you figure it all out in that short period of time?” Sam asks, genuinely interested. “You guys have your methods to pick out cases. I have mine,” Zoë responds curtly. The younger Winchester brother knows better than to continue the interrogation. A silence follows and Sam glances over at the gravestone.

Laura Emily Shire Beloved daughter and sister 01.22.1995 – 09.21.2005 Rest in Peace

“Apparently not,” Sam comments on the last sentence, before he redirects his attention to the huntress. “Need help?” “Do I look like I need help?” she counters. He shakes his head and goes quiet, not daring to contradict her. He should have known Zoë wouldn’t accept a helping hand. So he watches, awkwardly, not sure what to do with his hands. Not for long, though, because three swings later, Zoë hits the coffin.

The sudden difference in sound when the steel shovel collides with the wood draws Sam’s attention. He glances over the edge as Zoë wipes the dirt away. A hardwood beech coffin is exposed once again. Zoë busts the hinges with her shovel and opens the coffin, after which she quickly backs out. It’s one thing to burn just bones, but this little girl is still in the process of decomposition. “Argh… man, that’s bad.” Zoë covers her mouth and nose with her hand and turns at Sam, who hands over her backpack.

Trying not to inhale as she takes out a bag of salt and a small jerry can filled with gasoline, she continues to cover the remains with both. She climbs out of the grave and takes a matchbox out of her pocket. With a smooth strike, Zoë lights a couple of matches and drops them down the hole. Almost immediately the fire spreads out and shines an orange light on their faces as the heat reaches for them. The body burns for a while and when the fire almost dies out, she shovels the dirt back in the hole. Sam wants to help, but she only brought one shovel, so there’s not much he can do.

“How did you find me by the way?” Zoë wonders, as they saunter back to the main gates of Linwood Cemetery twenty minutes later. “I drove by and saw your Harley in the parking lot of the Hampton, asked for you at the desk. They called up to your room, but you didn’t answer. Since your bike was still there, I just figured you were at the cemetery across the street,” he explains. “I could have been having a bite and a drink somewhere,” she suggests. “Could have, yeah,” Sam admits, a small smile on his lips. “Lucky guess, huh?” Zoë grins as they amble through the gate. “More like a coincidence,” he expresses. “Let me tell you one thing, Sam.” Zoë looks over her shoulder, an all knowing grin on her lips. “There’s no such thing as coincidence.”

They halt in front of the Hampton Inn as Zoë shakes off the cold and shrugs on her jacket. Grave digging can be quite intense, but now that she’s not busting her ass, she’s freezing. Before the huntress moves inside, she throws her backpack over her shoulder and turns around at Sam. “What are you doing tonight?” “Not much, actually. Dean has a girl over at the motel,” he sighs. “Ah, I was wondering where the fucker was. Another one, huh? Not a shifter this time?” The huntress winks, remembering the joke she pulled on him. Sam laughs too. “Not this time.” “You didn’t tell him that we don’t know what sex that thing was, right?” Zoë checks. “Nope.” Sam’s eyes sparkle for a moment, in the same way Dean’s eyes do so often. It’s probably a Winchester thing. “I bet he has nightmares about it,” Zoë grins, enjoying the idea, but then turns to Sam as her amused facial expression changes into something more serious. “You have any last night?”

Sam looks her in the eye and the sparkle disappears. He forgot about the fact that he opened up to the huntress about the strange dreams he’s been having and for a second he feels uncomfortable. He’s happy to shake his head. “No, I slept quite well, actually. First time in three weeks,” he returns. “Well, I didn’t.” She yawns and quickly covers her mouth with her hand. “I’m gonna catch some sleep. Night, Sam.”

Zoë intends to stroll inside and leave the hunter at the entrance, but he clears his throat. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Sleepy and confused, Zoë halts and looks at the younger Winchester. “You’re not getting a kiss, if that’s what you’re waiting for.” Sam eyes her. “Our stuff.” “Oh right,” she remembers, entering the Hampton Inn, Sam in tow.

They take the elevator up to the second floor, where the huntress turns left, expecting Sam to follow. The younger Winchester seems impressed with the luxury of the hotel; he’s used to hunters settling for a much cheaper accommodation. As she slips her keycard through the lock, she yawns again.

“That bad, huh?” Sam chuckles. “I haven't had much sleep lately. Too many cases,” she replies and walks directly to the bathroom. “Let me freshen up, one sec.”

One sec turns out to be five minutes, because after that amount of time she walks out of the bathroom, fresh and showered. She’s wearing a Nirvana shirt and pajama shorts, not even bothered to put on a bra, even though she has company. She’s going to turn in for bed soon anyway, the aftermath of her high this morning seriously kicking in. She carelessly beckons at Sam, pointing at the other end of the room. “You can find your shit in the closet.”

Sam crosses the space and opens the double doors. He lets out a sigh of relief when he sees the duffel bags, but he can’t spot his laptop. “It’s on the table, still hooked up to the server,” she answers before he can ask. He walks over and notices the USB cable. “Why is it hooked up?” “Don’t get all emotional about it, but I’m copying my supernatural database to yours,” she tells him. “Since you guys are still going on what’s in that old book.” Sam’s eyebrows perk up, surprised. She actually did that, something nice without him asking? Maybe she’s not so bad as his brother would have him believe after all. “Thanks,” he expresses.

She looks aside, able to tell that his gratitude is sincere. Touching the mouse pad, she triggers the screen to light up; it’s still copying. To pass the time she opens ITunes, starts one of her favorite playlists and the first tunes of Shine On You Crazy Diamond by Pink Floyd come from the speakers. “Don’t mention it, but I'll tell you what.” She straightens her back and walks over to her bed. “It’s still transferring files, which might take another hour or so. If you don’t have a place to stay anyway, why don’t you hang out here? You can crash on the sofa if you want.”

Another unexpected act of kindness; she just invited him in. Not that she would want anything from him, though, or does she? For a second the Winchester wonders why she’s so interested in him all of a sudden. She’s being nice, and that’s just off. “Sure, if you don’t mind,” Sam accepts, masking his suspicion. “As long as you shut your piehole, I don’t mind. I really need to sleep,” she clears up as she crawls into bed and pulls the covers up till her nose. “Remote is on the TV if you want to watch anything, as long as it isn’t porn,” she mumbles, fitting her eye mask over her face. “Thanks, I’m good,” he assures, sitting down behind the table and glancing at the screen. He watches the bar move slowly, the percentage going up with each passing minute. “Hey Zo, is it alright if I--” But he doesn’t finish his sentence. Zoë is already far away, curled up in fetus-position, wrapped in her covers. She seems so peaceful and vulnerable, so unlike the Zoë Sullivan he got to know these past couple of days. He smiles at the endearing sight. She’s quite a peculiar woman.

It only takes a moment, though, before guilt settles on his chest and memories cloud his mind. Because every time when he thinks of Zoë, his thoughts wander off to Jessica as well. As if a voice in the back of his mind is mocking him for taking an interest in the new huntress. That it’s ‘not done’ since he’s in a relationship. But he isn’t. Jess is gone forever.

Sam swallows apprehensively and glances at his laptop again. He sees images transferring, of ghouls and werewolves, wendigos and demons. Honestly, he can’t wait to get his hands on that thing that killed his former girlfriend and his mom. Never has he felt the urge to kill something so strongly, never has he felt so much anger and hatred towards anything. Of course, he has ended the lives of creatures and burned the bones of the souls that stayed behind, but never out of hate. He did those things for opposite reasons; to save people and help spirits to move on.

The frustrating part about his attempt to find the creature that was responsible for the death of his loved ones? He has no idea where to start. Their dad has disappeared from the face of the earth and he and his brother have no leads whatsoever. They need to get back on the road, find their father and make progress fast, before that thing disappears off the radar again. Sam is going to make sure that he and Dean leave this town tomorrow first thing in the morning.

When the time comes, when they finally find their father, the next step is making the bastard pay that murdered Mom and Jess. That thought right there is what drives him, disturbing yet thrilling, but that’s what everyone is after. The death of that monster, the ultimate revenge.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part five here

#Supernatural: the Sullivan Series #Supernatural series #Dean Winchester x OFC #Sam Winchester x OFC #supernatural rewrite #Supernatural fanfiction #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester fanfiction #SPN fanfiction #SPN #Supernatural #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Zoë Sullivan STSS #In Bad Waters #1x02 In Bad Waters #Kate Huntington

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years

Text

The Dragon Egg (Parts 7 & 8)

For @secrettunnelatla

In one night, her world shatters.

It was such an amazing night that she hadn’t even known.

There is a lively hum in the air, an anticipation that has been building steadily, amped up twice over by the opening band. Admittedly, her stomach is fluttering with both delight and nervousness.

They have finally done it.

They are finally headlining.

And they are doing it with strong song material and a sound that Azula is fully satisfied with.

The lights dim on the venue floor and a telltale hush befalls the crowd. It is in this silence that the anticipation peaks. It is released in an explosion of claps and cheers when Zirin makes her way to the stage.

Azula envisions her holding up her drumsticks before she gives the drums a teasing beat. Chan and Ruon wait until the claps die away to emerge for themselves. The claps are louder still. “Good evening, Caldera!” Chan greets, “tell me what you think of this!”

At the strumming of his guitar, Azula makes her way onto the stage. And as they should, their cheers reach the highest volume that they possibly can. She doesn’t address them yet, she never does. That is reserved for after her first song has been sung.

She scans a sea of leather, piercings, and dyed hair for Seicho. She spots her in the front row off to the left. She gives a little wave. Azula smiles, she is pleasantly surprised to see her in the crowd.

.oOo.

Azula is a very different girl on stage, Seicho thinks, she is funner. Freer. There is an energy about her that unapologetically feral in the most beautiful way. She wishes that she would bring it to the skate park one day.

She isn’t particularly mobile, she doesn’t add dance or trash about like some vocalists do. Every now and again she moves from one end of the stage to the next. The songs are lovely but Seicho’s focus is on the gold-blue dragon curling around her arm. It fits the spotlight so well, shimmering in a way that is particularly mesmerizing.

Seicho knows that she has done good work.

She extends her had, reaching for Azula as many others do. She laughs when Ruon gives her a fist bump instead. She isn’t sure that Azula quite grasps the importance of interacting with the crowd. But she makes up for it with impeccable vocals and Chan and Ruon fill in.

Many of their songs are aggressive, a few are sad. But the ones Seicho enjoys the most are the upbeat, fast ones. By the end of the show they mostly sing fun songs, the older ones--if the crowd is to be believed.

They are fun and lively, Seicho can’t help but wonder why the new ones are so dismal in comparison. For the first time, it settles upon her that her friend might not be as lucky and happy as her social media suggests.

.oOo.

There is something uniquely exhilarating about performing a first headline show. Her world fades away into pure sound and rhythm. She finds that music provides its own special kind of high that drugs could never hope to induce. She thinks that it is the purest form of a high. A high born of achievement and adoration; of taking the world by storm and rising to the very top of it.

And in this natural high it becomes effortless, second nature to slip between her clean vocals and her raspy, grating ones. In this natural high it becomes easy to imagine that the night won’t end.

With this natural high a connection forms. She sings with more feeling, the crowd grows more fervent, her performance grows better still. It is a wonderful fever that spreads through the venue, infecting every last one of them until it is only music and nothing else.

She hadn’t realized that she has never truly performed, never truly formed a deeper link with her own songs until then. Until her last note reverberates around the venue. Until the strum of Chan’s guitar dies off, plunging the place into a momentary silence before the eruption of applause.

By, Agni she hopes that she can recreate this at Audio of Agni.

Azula finds Seicho once more, she wanders over and slips her an invite to their afterparty.

For once she is actually in the mood to attend one.

For once she feels unrestrictedly high-spirited.

.oOo.

Her natural high reaches a climax when Zhao gives her the news, “you’ve been invited to compete in Audio of Agni.”

She is so much more than thrilled. Zhao, on the other hand braces himself for overtime and exhaustion--the price of managing a big time band.

“Ayyy! Badass!” Chan elbows the poor man.

“Yes,” he grumbles. “Badass.”

“Ya know what this calls for!?”

“An extra rad afterparty?” Ruon asks. He waits for Zhao to step out, “with drinking games.”

Azula rolls her eyes. But it isn’t as though they haven’t earned one wild, ecstatic night. She supposes that she can let them have their drinks. It is only one night. Only one special night. She doesn’t know where Chan has found the alcohol but he has acquired a hefty amount.

Seicho finds a seat on the couch next to her. “Why is it that I’ve now been to Chan’s place and not yours?”

It is because she doesn’t need the girl to know that her father stumbles around drunk sometimes. It is because she isn’t yet ready for Seicho to see her bedroom, somehow that feels like letting someone get too close. “Chan’s mansion is better for parties.”

“Share a drink with me?” Seicho offers.

Azul bites the inside of her cheek. It is so terribly easy to see herself staggering about drunk, making a perfect fool of herself while shouting aggressive nonsense. It is so easy to see herself as she sees her father.

Zirin drapes her arms over the backrest of the sofa. Her cheeks are already flushed from the drinks. “Come on, Azula. ‘S not every night that we get invited to Audio of Agni.”

“Join us for a little toast.” Chan appears next to her. “You don’t even have to finish the glass.”

Azula sighs. She supposes that a sip or two couldn’t hurt.

A sip or two becomes the whole glass--she doesn’t want to be the only one who doesn’t.

And the whole glass becomes taking Seicho up on her offer--it is only polite, right?

And after taking Seicho up on her offer her mind is pleasantly fogged. She realizes, quite resentfully, that she is a lightweight. Perhaps the product of abstaining. Perhaps she has woefully inherited her mother’s genetics.

No matter the cause, inhibitions give way just enough to accept another drink and then another.

And then she wakes up.

Her clothes are on the floor.

The sun rays spilling through the window put an aching in her head. She squeezes her eyes shut again, intent to sleep away the pounding. She feels the mattress shift, it doesn’t register at first. The fog in her mind still isn’t fully cleared.

She notices another heap of clothes on the floor.

These are not her own.

The mattress shifts again.

Her stomach drops.

She leaves the bed and hastily dresses herself before he can wake up. He doesn’t remember it exactly and she wishes that she didn’t.

They don’t talk about it.

It was just one night.

One wild, special night.

************

She rubs her hands over her face as she paces about. How could she have let this happen? Agni, she assumed that this is a situation that someone like TyLee or Zirin would find themselves in. Not someone like her. Not someone who had only one careless night. One lapse in judgment.

She looks at the strip again. The plus sign still glares back at her.

Agni, she is such a fool.

A fool and, for the first time, she doesn’t know what to do. She has no plan. She thinks that there is no good plan. Her phone buzzes again. It has been vibrating all morning. They ask her where she is. They note that she has been distracted at practice lately.

And it is true; she couldn’t make good music with her stomach so constantly queasy, with anxious thoughts and what if’s swimming in her mind. And now that she has confirmation a much deeper dread sets in. A sense of dread. Of doom. Of failure and shame.

Azula sets the strip aside. It is the third one that she has set aside in the hopes that she has perhaps received a false positive. A second one could be a coincidence. A third and she is certain that the first two had been accurate. It doesn’t stop her from trying a fourth as though that will change anything.

She swallows hard and sinks onto the couch. She feels as though she will be sick and thanks the universe that her father is occupied with signing a new band onto his label. He doesn’t need to see her cry. On principal it is a dreadful idea to irritate him with sobs, Agni forbid that he ask why she is crying.

She wishes that TyLee didn’t resent her. TyLee would know how to handle this. At the very least, TyLee would be the sort of comfort that she needs. Hell, she nearly longs for Zuko or Mai. Any familiar face that hadn’t been present at that party.

She wonders how they had let her do that. In the back of her mind she knows that they were all thoroughly wasted--Seicho and passed out leaning against a potted plant with a piece of toast clutched in her hand. In the back of her mind she knows that they probably hadn’t even noticed that she and Chan had disappeared. She is still furious. She still blames them. It is easier than blaming herself.

With shaking fingers she swipes to answer the first text. She scrolls to the next realizing that the first is from Chan. She isn’t ready to talk to him yet. She isn’t sure if she wants to tell him. She knows that she probably should.

‘Do we still have practice tonight?’ Reads Zirin’s text.

Azula manages a short, ‘yes, same time as always.’

The third is from Ruon. It is the same question but presented in leetspeak. She will let Zirin fill him in. Seicho is fourth on the list and Zhao is the fifth. She looks at Seicho’s first. The girl has sent her a steady stream of messages. An initial, ‘are you still up for tonight after practice?’ Followed by, ‘I was thinking that maybe I can teach you to tattoo.’ And then a, ‘you there.’ After that it is a steady stream of pokes. Agni, she might have to take Seicho up on her apprenticeship should her father decide to disown her.

She can’t bring herself to answer the texts yet. Just as she closes out of the message, she receives another poke.

Zhao’s message comes like a slap in the face. ‘CONGRATULATIONS!’ It takes her too long to realize that he was speaking of Audio of Agni. Attached to the text is a photo of their physical and formal invitations. Even so, she has to put her phone down for a moment.

She wanders into her closet, intending to dress herself for the day. She ends up emerging still in her pajamas. She decides to try the kitchen but wanders back upstairs, she isn’t all that hungry either.

She hears her phone vibrate upon the nightstand. She picks it back up and replies to Seicho. Confirming that she would like to meet with her. She could use someone to talk to. All the same she isn’t sure that Seicho would receive the news well. She doesn’t know what the girl thinks of drunk sex--accidental or not. She realizes that she doesn’t know Seicho very well at all. She doesn’t know anyone well enough to share.

As she is with many other things, Azula is well aware that she is alone in this too. She had been a fool; a fool to drink, a fool to let her focus waver, a fool to let the night sweep her up, and a fool to think that she was impeccable. She should have known better. She should have known that her life hangs on such a delicate thread--a thread that is as short as her father’s temper.

She had been a fool and so she will have to take the punishment that life has handed her.

.oOo.

Her mind is wandering again, wandering to wailing in the dead night and fussing in the morning. In her mind’s eye there is a tired eyed, scraggly haired version of herself, trying to care for a baby that she shouldn’t even have.

“Seriously!” Zirin snaps.

“Chan’s guitar solo ended a minute ago, are you planning on singing?” Ruon asks.

“I was just listening.” She clears her throat. “You’re playing perfectly, Chan.”

“Yes, well you sure aren’t.” Zirin remarks bluntly. “You’ve been nagging us to start taking practices seriously for how long? Well we’re all in now, where the hell are you at?”

Her face flushes. “Perhaps, I’m tired from having held the band together and keeping everyone on task for the past few months!”

“No.” Chan counters. “What you do is push and push and criticize until we’re absolutely drained. We play better when we practice on our own.”

Azula’s brows furrow. “You practice on your own?”

Zirin gives a bitter laugh, “do you think that we just memorized all of this new material in just a few sessions? It’s a lot easier to practice when we aren’t getting nit picked and bitched at the whole time.”

“You can’t practice without me.”

“We can and we have to.” Ruon adds quietly. “Look, Zirin is being kind of harsh but…” he winces. “But she’s right. You’re kind of overbearing and it’s hard to deal with sometimes. So we have to practice on our own.”

She looks to Chan who shrugs. “Yeah, you’re really difficult sometimes. It’s easier to memorize new riffs when I’m not worrying about how to appease you when I don’t live up to your expectations.”

Azula swallows, the pressure that has slowly been building up within her over the past week is threatening to boil over. “Let’s just take it from the top.” She mutters. She isn’t confident that the knots in her throat will make for good vocal quality. Perhaps she can sing them away. She better be able to do so because their next recording session is tomorrow.

“Are you going to actually take part this time?” Zirin asks. As if that isn’t vexing enough she mocks, “we need to hurry this up, we’re pressed for time. Remember?”

“We are pressed for time.” She confirms.

“Azula,” Ruon tries, “we still have nearly a year to prepare.”

“We need to do this now so that we can start shooting our music video. Maybe we should start recording now…”

Chan quirks a brow. “We don’t have a producer right now.”

“We can have Zhao call him and…”

“We’re not recording today.” Chan asserts. “Pick up your microphone or go home and let us practice.”

The queasiness in her belly intensifies further. “We’re falling behind. We need to start filming, have we even come up with a concept…” She’ll have no video at all before trying to shoot one with her pregnancy showing.

Ruon gently sets his hands on her shoulders and softly speaks, “look, Azula. Maybe you should go home

But she can’t go home, father won’t stand for it. She won’t stand for it. She can’t afford to waste a whole night of practice, she can’t even afford to waste an hour. Her head is spinning in so many different directions. She has the tickets to Audio of Agni--to her dreams--in her back pocket and she is about to lose it. She is about to lose everything. She’ll end up like Iroh and Zuko. She’ll just be another supernova, too bright to sustain its own light in the long term. Somehow it comes out as, “this is my band, this is my studio. I’m staying.”

“Great, then you just stay here, we’ll take practice to Chan’s house.” Zirin declares. She sntaches up her drumsticks and heads for the door.

“Zirin, I never agreed to that!” Chan shouts. But he takes his guitar and chases her down noless. Of course he does, Azula can’t remember a time when he hadn’t followed her about.

Ruon sighs and shakes his head. “I guess I’ll see you later, Azula. Good luck.”

“Wait, Ruon, please don’t leave.”

But he does. Just like Mai and TyLee.

The studio door slams back into place. It is only she and the echo. And then she and the silence.

She tucks herself into the corner of the recording booth and slides down the wall. She draws her knees up to her chest and buries her face in her knees. In the silence it finally comes out. All at once until she is laying on the floor, a shaking, screaming mess. The booth muffles the sound, no one hears her. And if they do, they probably think that it is part of a song. Maybe it is better that way.

Or maybe she wishes that someone would come by and ask her if she needs help. Even through her tears she would tell them that she doesn’t, but the sentiment would be nice.

She bunches herself up as tightly as she can manage. She is losing everything. Everyone.

Maybe she never had anyone at all. Maybe they had never been her friends. Maybe they were just co-works. Maybe the three of them simply had a dream and she just so happened to be the best opportunity to bring it to fruition. Maybe she is just a tool. A very talented tool.

She hears her phone ringing from across the room. Oh, Agni, she hopes that it isn’t her father. Not now.

She stumbles her way to it. She takes a deep breath, her voice is still some shaky as she confirms the call. “I’m busy right now, Seicho.”

“Sorry, I forgot that you were at practice. I can call back at another time…”

Azula is quick to cut her off. “No. No, it’s fine. We were just finishing.”

“That early?”

“Yes. We had a...a good session. I’m confident enough in our sound that we don’t have to practice as long.” Oh, Agni, she’s such a liar.

“Great, you still want to come to the skate park?”

“Can we meet somewhere quieter?”

“Sure! Pick the place and I’m there.”

“Okay.” She says too quietly. She is there. Someone is there. She swallows. At least she has one person. One person to hold onto. One person to hold onto her. Agni, she hopes that Seicho has a strong grip. “Do you want to come to the studio, I can show you how it works.”

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Azula/Background Character #Zuko #Mai #TyLee #Maiko #Azula/Cupholder girl #Atlasecrettunnel #Fanfiction

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thepoeticfirefly · 4 years

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Always You (Chanyeol x Reader// Baekhyun x Reader) Five

Summary: She never intended to fall in love with her best friend knowing that doing so will hurt what they already have. But what she never wanted was to hurt them both in expense of her feelings (to edit if i think of a better summary than this crap)

Genre: Angst/Fluff; high school to college au; chanyeol & baekhyun x fem!reader

Disclaimer: this story is mine and any stories with a similar plot is a coincidence. this is story is purely my imagination; moodboard is mine, i really worked hard doing it and I know it’s not that good but it was my first time doing one but it was fun😆

Warnings: angst

Word Count: 3.6k+

A/N: HAPPY BAEKHYUN DAY!!!

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

Months passed, Chanyeol's birthday passed, Christmas and New Year passed, and not once did Chanyeol and Y/N spoke a word to each other. They had accepted that they were not friends anymore and that they would graduate without each other by their side (though the thought of it still tugged at their heartstrings).

With each passing day, Y/N did her best to move on. But whenever her eyes would fall on Chanyeol, Y/N would feel sorrow course through her body, missing the unusually tall boy and the times they spent together. She would miss when they would smile and laugh together, when they were inseparable and when their bond was the strongest. But not everyone would stick with you in your life, not even the ones you thought would be there with you till the end, and Y/N learned to accept that.

Chanyeol and Mi Soo were still together, the strongest since they started going out. But deep down Chanyeol’s heart, there’s a gap that not even Mi Soo was able to heal. He would find himself missing Y/N but every time he thought to make amends with her, he’ll be reminded of Mi Soo and thought of it as wrong. He would brush off thoughts of Y/N and fill them with Mi Soo’s presence. But Chanyeol felt undeniably empty. For years, he would be with Baekhyun and Y/N all the time. But these days, even hanging out with Baekhyun was becoming scarce.

Baekhyun stayed friends with both Chanyeol and Y/N, hanging out with them separately which made him sad. All he wanted was for them to be together again. He couldn’t help but blame Mi Soo for separating Chanyeol and Y/N though she did not take part on their decision to break their friendship. Mi Soo was ready to accept whatever Chanyeol decided to do. If he would still be friends with Y/N or not, it was his decision and Mi Soo told herself to accept it.

Mi Soo did feel guilty when she learned that the two decided to end their friendship but she also felt relieved. It was evil in her part but she was glad because she didn’t need to act as if she was okay if her boyfriend still hanged around with his former best friend who was very much in love with him.

The more time Mi Soo and Chanyeol hang out, the less Baekhyun found himself hanging out with Chanyeol. At times, Baekhyun would find himself with Chanyeol and Mi Soo and when he realize that Y/N was missing, he felt wrong that it was as if Mi Soo suddenly replaced Y/N in their group. And at those times, Baekhyun would excuse himself, feeling that he was betraying Y/N.

And because of that, Baekhyun hanged around Y/N more, and before anyone even realized it, Baekhyun and Chanyeol were growing apart. Though they would still talk to each other, it wasn’t like before where they would tell each other everything. Now, they would just have casual conversations before going off to be with Mi Soo and Y/N.

As their friendship slowly dissipate, the day of their graduation slowly etched its way to their batch. Everyone in their year found themselves focusing on what course they would take and what university they would go to. All their conversations revolved around what university they want to be in and if they already had their entrance examinations. These sudden talks of courses took a toll on Y/N who had no idea as to what she wanted to become.

Baekhyun was already set on studying for a game development course and Y/N was glad for him, happy that he would be studying somethings he had always had a passion on. She would reminisce the times the three of them would play video games and how passionate Baekhyun was about it. Y/N would laugh at the thought, realizing the times Baekhyun would spend all of his time playing games would actually be beneficial to him.

Chanyeol, as Y/N has always knew, would probably be studying music. Chanyeol is undeniably talented in music and Y/N had always supported him about it. But since they aren’t talking anymore, Y/N doesn’t know what Chanyeol would be studying for college.

All of Y/N’s classmates already had their goals set on a course and Y/N felt pressured, even more because of her parents who had been firing every course they knew, suggesting this and that that ultimately didn’t help Y/N decide on what path she would take.

With a month away from graduation, Y/N focused more on her studies to prepare for her finals. She thought that if she didn’t think about it, she would feel less pressured. But the thoughts of what course she would take did not leave her mind as it bothered her every second of everyday. Y/N was scared. She didn’t want to switch courses in case she didn’t enjoy the one she picked. She wanted to only have one course she would stick with. But the fact that her life depends on what course she would take scared Y/N to the bones. She felt herself not wanting to graduate yet, to stop time and stay at the moment and be young forever away from the responsibilities of adulthood.

All of these worries clouded her mind until one Thursday night when her older sister called her, asking if she had set her mind on what course she would take. Her older sister lived overseas, in the US to be exact, working as a Physical Therapist in a public hospital. She lived with her husband and has been living there for a little over 3 years now.

“You should try Physical Therapy, if you want” Her sister suggested and Y/N gulped, remembering the times her sister did not sleep but studied all through out the night and asked

“But didn’t you say that course is difficult?” Y/N could practically hear her sister roll her eyes when she replied “All courses are difficult, Y/N. It’s just different if you enjoy what you’re doing”

“Is it nice, being a Physical Therapist?”

“It’s fulfilling” Her sister replied, her voice laced with the smile on her face “You get to help patients retain abilities they lost and watching them improve, is just so” She sighed

“So fulfilling” Y/N smiled, feeling proud of her sister “But Physical Therapy is more about physical. There’s another course that helps patients retain their abilities”

“What’s that?” Y/N probed, curious.

“Occupational Therapy, and it’s more like, when patients forget how to chew, you teach them how again. While mine is if they can’t walk anymore, you can help them slowly walk again”

After some more talking, Y/N was about to end the call when her sister stopped her and said “By the way, if you do end up wanting to study in the medical field, if you want, you can follow me here” Y/N felt a lump on her throat and her sister continued

“There are excellent universities here and I’ll be here to help you, my husband too. And I’m the one who’s gonna pay for your studies anyway so why not study here? We can be together again!” Her sister beamed and Y/N was unable to respond until she heard her sister call her name

“I-I’m gonna think about it” Y/N said and immediately ended the call, dropping her phone on her bed as she collapsed into her pillows. Y/N gulped, hesitant.

Going overseas to study is indeed, very very beneficial on her part as she would be able to get quality education. And she would be overseas and she would be able to see her sister after so many years. But, she wasn’t so sure about leaving her parents behind. About leaving her friends and her life behind.

Y/N was barely able to sleep that night, unsure about what she should do. She arrived late to class, her first time in her whole senior year. Fortunately, it was self study time so she wasn’t reprimanded that much.

Baekhyun noticed her out-of-it state and after the their teacher left the room, he scooted closer to her, asking “Hey, you okay? You seem to be distracted”

Y/N stared at Baekhyun, already missing him even though she hasn’t even decided if she would leave yet “Baekhyun-ah” She whined, putting her head on his shoulders, flustering the boy “Y-yeah?”

And so she told him everything, from her worries to what her sister proposed to her last night and her inner conflict of wanting to take her sister’s suggestion to wanting to stay. Baekhyun kept quiet the entire time, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him, afraid that she would disappear and he won’t remember what it felt like when she was with him.

“What do you think?” She asked, getting off his shoulder to look him in the eye. Baekhyun gulped, saddened though her decision wasn’t final yet.

“You should do what you want. It’s your life after all, so you should do what you think would be beneficial for you” He smiled, though it did not reach his eyes, his mind screaming ‘Stay’

Y/N nodded, focusing back to her books to study again. Baekhyun’s eyes did not leave her, already missing her. Baekhyun hated this, he hated that everyone is suddenly going away. He hated that even Y/N is gradually slipping away and he can’t stop it.

Their finals came and everyone studied, not speaking to anyone as they crammed, eyes flying like bullets through their notes as the minutes ticked by closer to the start of their exams. When finals officially started, hours passed by in a blur, their necks hanging low as they took in every question and answered it with what they think is right. As fast as the finals started, the end unknowingly came and the students rejoiced, ecstatic that their final high school examination is done.

Dismissal came quickly and students filed out their classrooms, flocking with their group of friends as they took off home or to wherever they decided to hang out. Baekhyun and Y/N walked together, chatting about how they’ve done and how relieved they are that they won’t be studying anymore for the meantime.

Baekhyun took a hold of their ice cream from the vendor and handed Y/N hers, thanking him in the process. They sat down on the table by the glass window, sitting across from each other as they ate their ice creams.

“So, have you decided yet?” Baekhyun asked cooly, though his eyes wavered, unsure if he was ready to hear her decision. Y/N didn’t fail to notice this and smiled, chuckling under her breath.

“Yeah...After some talking with my family, we came to an agreement” Baekhyun hummed in response, staring outside the shop, avoiding eye contact. Y/N smiled sadly “Baekhyun-ah...”

He hummed again, but did not look at her “Baekhyun” She called, sighing. Baekhyun sighed too, finally turning to look at her to see her sad eyes, his stomach dropping, already knowing the answer yet holding on to the thin line of hope that she would stay ‘Stay’ He thought as she began to speak

“I decided to go”

Baekhyun’s eyes began to water and seeing this made Y/N’s eyes water too “B-but...” He stammered, his voice cracking as he continued “C-can’t you stay?”

His voice was pleading and her heart broke when a tear fell down his cheeks. Y/N didn’t reply and Baekhyun harshly ate his ice cream then spoke again “I hate this”

“I fucking hate this” He repeated “I hate that everyone is suddenly going to who knows where and I-” He paused, wiping his cheeks as tears fell down his eyes “I hate that even you’re starting to get farther away” He sobbed.

Y/N transferred from her seat and sat beside Baekhyun, her ice cream forgotten as she enveloped him in a hug. Baekhyun set his ice cream down and hugged her back. He tightened his grip around her, not wanting to let her go.

“I’ll miss you” Y/N cracked, also hugging him tight. “We’ll still talk everyday, okay?” Y/N told him and he nodded, leaning away from her. He took her hand and held it, the both of them chuckling at their crying selves.

After taking Y/N home, Baekhyun dashed off to Chanyeol’s house, much to the latter’s surprise “Baekhyun?” Chanyeol asked, confused at Baekhyun’s sudden appearance after not talking for a while.

“You!” Baekhyun bellowed, stomping towards Chanyeol who backed away “W-what?”

“Y/N is-! Y/N is-!”

“Y/N is what?” Chanyeol asked, confused.

“Y/N is leaving” Baekhyun said, his voice sad as he took steps backwards away from Chanyeol “Leaving?”

“She’s going overseas to study after graduation” Baekhyun sat on Chanyeol’s bed, looking down. Chanyeol gulped, taking in the information.

“Her sister is taking Y/N with her so...” Baekhyun looked at Chanyeol “Are you still not going to talk to her?”

Chanyeol’s mouth hanged open, unable to reply. Baekhyun scoffed, standing up and left Chanyeol’s room. He had said enough and so he left Chanyeol to his thoughts, hoping that he would come to his senses and talk to Y/N.

The Monday after their finals came and it was the last week of their classes and after that, their graduation will be held. Y/N came in early and as usual, slept until their teacher came.

Chanyeol was startled to see Y/N, but moved on and sat on his seat, glancing at her every now and then, hesitant if he should approach her and ask about her going overseas. After some minutes of arguing with himself, Chanyeol stood up, a sudden surge of courage surging through his veins. Just as he was gonna walk towards her, the door opened and 4 of his classmates entered the room, startling him. Embarrassed, he exited the room and found himself walking towards Mi Soo’s section, sighing.

The next time he found a chance to approach Y/N was the next morning, and it was only him and Y/N again. Gulping, he walked towards her sleeping figure. He stood in front of her and tapped her shoulder causing her to stir awake. They froze when they made eye contact, Y/N’s mind going dizzy at his sudden presence.

Y/N was about to speak but Chanyeol suddenly turned away and exited the room, confusing Y/N “What the-?” Y/N exclaimed, her heart still beating uncontrollably, still surprised that Chanyeol approached her for the first time in months. Y/N told Baekhyun about this and the boy couldn’t stop smiling, shooting Chanyeol smiles throughout the day.

The next morning, Y/N stayed awake in case Chanyeol decide to finally talk to her. She felt giddy knowing that Chanyeol knew that she’s going away for college after Baekhyun told her that he told him. She felt happy that Chanyeol was trying to talk to her, wondering if maybe he still cared enough to ask her about it. She wondered if he miss her like she miss him. Y/N suddenly felt sad again at the thought.

Startled, Y/N turned around to look at the door open and revealed Chanyeol. They made eye contact and Chanyeol looked away awkwardly, clearing his throat at the process.

“Chanyeol” Her soft voice turned him to stone. Y/N stood up and walked towards Chanyeol who stood frozen on the ground.

“Chan- Chanyeol!” Chanyeol came to his senses and freaked out when he noticed Y/N walking towards him and surprised both of them as he ran away, opening the door and slamming it shut.

Y/N ran after him, opening the door but stopped at the hallway, screaming “PARK CHANYEOL YOU FUCKING COWARD!” Y/N huffed as she watched him run, turning to Mi Soo’s section.

Y/N ignored him for the next few days much to his relief, though he grew annoyed at himself for being the coward as Y/N had described him to be. Their last day came as fast as the weekend passed and finally, it was time to say goodbye, though they will still meet each other at their graduation. But nonetheless, they felt nostalgic as they reminisced the times they’ve spent in this school, the good and the bad, laughing about it as they let go of their past.

Baekhyun and Y/N gazed longingly at Chanyeol who stared back at them, beside him was Mi Soo with her friends. Mi Soo noticed Chanyeol and followed his gaze to found he was staring at Baekhyun and Y/N who has now looked away from him. Mi Soo clutched his arm “Chanyeo-”

“Let’s go” He smiled at her, cutting her off. Chanyeol bid goodbye to her friends and laced his hand with hers as he lead her away from her friends. Mi Soo glanced back at Baekhyun and Y/N to see them staring at them. Mi Soo looked away and gazed at Chanyeol, her heart trembling with guilt.

Y/N gazed dreamily at her batch mates in their graduation robes. Y/N looked down on her own and smiled, feeling nostalgic. It was just like yesterday when they were freshmen and now, it’s their last day to be together gathered like this.

Y/N turned to Baekhyun who rambled beside her, chatting aimlessly, trying to set his sad feelings aside and enjoy this day that was only a far imagination in their minds but has now come true.

Y/N smiled widely, thinking back to the first time she met Baekhyun. He was a sickly, thin and skinny loud boy that Y/N promised to never associate herself with, but funnily enough became her best friend. Together with the other boisterous tall boy, the three of them became inseparable. But years passed and people were bound to drift away and their three became two, though in their hearts they remained as three.

“For you” Baekhyun shyly said, giving Y/N a bouquet of flowers “Congrats”

Y/N bellowed in laughed “What the-?” She laughed and his cheeks turned pink “Stop laughing! Or I’ll get that back!”

“Okay! Okay! Sorry. Thank you” Y/N stopped laughing, though still grinning.

“How sweet” Y/N ruffled his hair, making Baekhyun huff out in embarrassment.

Their graduation ceremony was already done a few minutes ago and students flocked outside the ceremony hall, taking pictures together, refusing to part ways from each other.

Baekhyun dragged Y/N everywhere, taking pictures with only them and others, trying to stall time as later that night, Y/N would officially go overseas. Y/N and Baekhyun’s parents waited patiently, letting the two go around as much as they can together, knowing that they won’t be together for a long time.

Watching Y/N and Baekhyun, Chanyeol made a fist, his feet aching to go to his best friends, if they would still call him that. Beside him, Mi Soo watched him battle with himself. Sighing, Mi Soo took his hand, getting his attention.

“Go to them, Chan. Go” Chanyeol searched her eyes and she nodded, smiling at him softly. His eyes shined, taking Mi Soo in his arms, hugging her before running off.

Y/N jumped in surprise when she saw Chanyeol behind them, his hands on his knees as he breathed harshly “Chanyeol?”

“I-” He paused, taking a deep breath “I- umh” He stammered, his eyes locking with Y/N’s.

“Yes?” Baekhyun gazed intensely at Chanyeol, on edge.

“I-I heard you’re going away t-tonight?” Chanyeol asked, Baekhyun furrowing his eyebrows.

“Y-yeah” Y/N awkwardly replied. Chanyeol nodded, though it seemed more like to himself.

“H-have a safe trip”

‘No, that’s not what you want to say, Chanyeol!’ He thought, but the words won’t come out of his mouth.

“Is that all?” Y/N asked timidly, looking at Chanyeol, hopeful. Chanyeol didn’t reply and Y/N sulked in disappointment, sending him a small smile before walking away.

Baekhyun took a step closer to Chanyeol and whispered “Why are you being like this? What are you so afraid of?”

Baekhyun was confused. He can see through Chanyeol’s eyes that there are words and feelings that just won’t come out of his mouth. Baekhyun was confused and irked. What was he afraid of? Why is he not speaking out his feelings? Why is he being like this?

When Chanyeol didn’t reply, Baekhyun shook his head, disappointment in his eyes. He turned away from Chanyeol and ran after Y/N, hooking his arm with hers. And the sight broke Chanyeol’s heart. But why? He did not understand.

“Y/N, it’s time to go” Her mother called, and instinctively, Baekhyun tightened his grip on Y/N’s arm. Y/N stopped and faced Baekhyun whose eyes screamed ‘Don’t go’

“Byun Baekhyun, good bye” She smiled sadly, tears starting to form in her eyes.

“Don’t go” Baekhyun voiced out. Y/N chuckled under her breath, wiping her eyes with her free hand

“I can’t do that Baekhyun-ah” She said, her voice sad. Baekhyun pulled her to him, hugging her with all her might. His eyes tearing up, wetting Y/N’s clothes. They heard someone clear their throat but they did not let go, knowing that this would be the last time they would see each other, at least for a while.

“Y/N...” She heard her mother trail off. Y/N pulled away from Baekhyun’s arms reluctantly, instantly feeling empty at the lack of proximity. Y/N chuckled, wiping Baekhyun’s eyes and cheeks “Don’t cry, Baekhyun-ah”

“But I’ll miss you” His voice cracked, holding both her hands “And you’re crying too!” They laughed, Baekhyun wiping away her tears.

“Let’s not cry, okay? We’ll still see each other, okay?” Y/N comforted, her eyes comforting Baekhyun’s sad ones. He nodded, pulling her for one last hug.

They pulled away, and Y/N began to walk away, their hands still in each others. Y/N glanced at him for the last time before letting go of his hand. She got on the car and Baekhyun felt himself panic that that was the last time he’d see her.

The car erupted to life and before it run and get further away from him, the window lowered and Y/N sent him a smile “I’ll call you later” And with that, the car left and for the first time in his whole life, Baekhyun had never felt so lonely.

#chanyeol #baekhyun #chanyeol x reader #baekhyun x reader #chanyeol imagines #baekhyun imagines #exo #exo imagines #chanyeol x y/n #chanyeol x you #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun x you #baekhyun x oc

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realllllfangirllllll · 5 years

Text

More Than Friends ||

Chp. 37

Masterlist

CEO!Jaehyun AU x Reader

College Student!Jaemin AU x Reader

Summary: After a complicated relationship with the infamous CEO, you want nothing more than to live your life as a normal college student; however, Mr. CEO just can’t let you go.

{ Previous / Next }

Jaehyun’s pov

The feeling of my comfortable chair gave me a tiny ounce of relief. I let my body sink into the furniture as the slow jazz music played in the background of my study room. Although the music was relaxing, my mind was not. I ran my hand through my already messed up hair as I recalled the events that happened the past days.

The moment the projector screen lit up, I knew someone was set to sabotage the night. What I didn’t know was that they would stoop so low as to sneak into my company and expose my personal love life.

I quickly ushered the security to come forward in an attempt to bring down the video that never seemed to end. I hate to say this, but Jaemin was actually of help. Not only did he stop the projector from playing, but he even assured his father in as many ways as he can to prevent an argument. As the two of us tried to explain to the chairman, we were rudely interrupted by a wave of reporters. Suddenly, the speakers intruded our eardrums.

This is the true identity of the person you plan on working with. An office romance with an intern? How can someone be so unprofessional… I am hugely disappointed and so should you.

The distorted announcement kept ringing in my ears. My heart shattered when I scanned the ballroom, desperately searching for y/n, but to no avail did I find her. I panicked and rang the group chat in an attempt to find her whereabouts. I was worried sick at this point, not even bothering about the rowdy reporters and their flashing cameras. It was a bad idea, but I did it anyway. I pushed through the crowd and left the chairman to explain himself.

This very action made it final that Starship will not be working with my company anymore, but the only thing on my mind was my girlfriend. I wasn’t going to leave her alone in this situation. I know her well enough to know that she will put all the blame on herself when in actuality, it was all my fault.

My phone buzzed and I quickly checked the notification. The next thing I knew, I dropped my phone and ran to the women’s bathroom. As I ran past the many hallways and doors, my heart sank deeper and deeper. At that moment, it felt as if I was seven years old again, running to the hospital to find my mom. I remember running away from home when I witnessed my father’s affair, reaching my mom’s hospital room a little too late, and the letter she left me that caused me to cry in the middle of the hospital until my eyes burned.

On the letter, it read: If you get this letter, then it must mean you got in a fight with your father, my husband. Don’t be too mad at him sweetie, you’ve been a good boy and have done nothing wrong. I was simply too weak to provide your father any happiness so he did what any other person would do. Please forgive him, son. However, your father’s and my actions do not define who you are. You are special. You are not just any other person. Makeup with your father, but do not be like him. You are too pure-hearted for this world and so you must grow up to be strong and only love those you can trust. Never fall for those who want to benefit from you, but never lose those who make you feel at home. Home is where your heart lies. My dear son, follow your heart and everything else will follow. Love you always, Eomma~

At that very moment, I followed my heart. I ran like my life depended on it, because it did. I prayed to the gods that the love of my life was ok.

When I reached the ladies restroom, I found Soyeon with a tear-stained face, sitting against the wall. I was about to lose all sanity, thinking of the worst case scenario. Roughly, I gripped her shoulders, shaking her to snap her out of her sorrow daze. “What the fuck happened to y/n?!” I shouted louder than I wanted to, fear taking over me. I continuously shook her, trying to get an answer from her.

She slowly snapped out of her daze and turned to me, wiping her face, she softly answered, “S-she fainted. I didn’t know what to do...” She continued to explain with her eyes shaking in fear, “I kept tapping her but s-she wouldn’t respond. I-I called Mark over and he took her somewhere...”

I kneeled down in front of her, a wave of relief washed over me after hearing that Mark was taking care of her. I silently comforted Soyeon, getting ready to take her home from this chaotic mess I caused.

As soon as I got home, I relentlessly tapped my phone. I contacted y/n and everyone that might know where she is. I need to know she was fine, but I received no response.

The next day, I turned on the tv to see news about y/n and me scattered all over the channels and on my tablet. I figured she’d seen them all by now, so I had to text her again to make sure she was ok.

I waited and waited for her response but nothing came.

Finally, I ran to my phone when I heard it buzz, but the next thing I knew, my heart shattered into a million pieces.

Jaehyun... I don’t think I can do this. It’s just too much... bye

I stared at the text she sent me. I know she’s only doing this as a habit of running away from her problems. I know. I know that it was exactly like how she ran away from me after developing feelings for me during our complicated relationship. I know it. I just know she still loves me and that's why I text her back, trying to set everything right. Trying to convince her to stay with me.

But she doesn’t reply.

I call her.

But her phone is turned off.

Rage took over me and I threw my already cracked phone across the living room, not even caring that it left a hole through the glass window.

The next few days, I spent my time locked up in the study. Neither did I slept nor did I talk to anyone, not even Johnny or Lucas. Occasionally, I would hear Soyeon pounding on my door, but I paid no attention. For the only thing on my mind was losing the love of my life.

It was all my fault. I dragged her into this lifestyle knowing she did not want the spotlight. I made her hide our love for the sake of my reputation. I was too caught up with loving her that I never realized how much I trapped her. It was nobody’s fault but me and my selfish tendencies. I was too greedy to ask for both success and love so now I’m face to face with its consequences.

The vinyl record stopped playing and I was brought back to the present. I walked forward to change the record, a familiar R&B song played and immediately, I was thinking of her again.

This was the song that played whenever I was with y/n. I recall the morning after sleeping with her. This time, I was sober enough to feel every part of her. The song was playing in the background while she fell asleep on my chest. I would chuckle at how she acted so tough but ended back up in my bedroom. Her soft breathing would send shivers down my body. Back then, I thought it was only lust I felt. However, even then, I felt a warmth surround me every time we slept together. Her very presence made me feel at peace, whether we were making out or endlessly bickering. I loved every moment I spent with her, even when we were only sleeping buddies.

After our childish tickling battle and yet another intense session of fucking, I softly played this song in the bedroom as y/n hogged all my blankets on the bed. Her soft breathing and the sound of the music meshed perfectly into a serene tune. I remember laughing to myself. Never would I have thought anyone would know about me being ticklish nor thought I would do such childish things and laugh so hard from it. She made me feel like a kid that day, a kid that said “lotion” instead of “sorry.” That day, I only cared about having fun and not having to worry about why my father did what he did nor about my company struggling because of a spoiled brat. I felt like I was truly myself when I’m with her.

This song also filled the bookstore while I read her my favorite quotes from Pride & Prejudice. That wasn’t a mere coincidence, however. I did purposely tell the cashier to play the record when I saw it in midst of the endless boxes of vinyl. That was one of the first time I shared an innocent kiss with her. Ironic that the innocent kiss came after all the endless nights of lust. Nevertheless, my heart felt something that day. It was as if it was doing flips over and over again. Maybe it was because she initiated the soft kiss first, or maybe it was because she called me cute afterward. Or maybe it was just the fact that I had already started to fall in love with her.

Again, the song played in the background of my living room as I lulled her to sleep. I remember smiling to myself as I stared at her puffy eyes, having cried from watching The Notebook and was then clinging onto me while falling asleep. It was the very first time she truly believed that love in fiction could exist. She believed in it so much that she cried. It made me realize just how much our existence changed each other. I was the hopeless romantic who read romance to never forget how love can make up for so much. On the other hand, she was the atheist who read romance novels to see how love was just “fiction.” Although we both shared the same tough act toward others, we gradually changed. We became our real selves when we were together. We were each others’ safe haven. We weren’t just in a relationship, we formed a home.

Tears rolled down my eyes as I thought of our shared memories. She was my home. My heart only beats for her, and only her.

My mom’s words suddenly filled my mind: Never lose those who make you feel at home. Home is where your heart lies.

I wiped the tears off my face. That was it. I loved her too much. My world revolves around her and I am not going to lose her. It’s time for me to man up and show her that our love can overpower all hatred.

I rushed out of my study and left my house. I knocked wildly on Soyeon’s door. The moment the door flung open, I said with all seriousness, “I know what I need to do now, and I need your help again.”

———

• I was so stressed as I wrote this ashdkdhdkj •

• Stream BOOM 💥 •

• Omgg also I love The Rose sm so imma have to promote my bbys •

• Stream RED by The Rose 🌹 •

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kanene-yaaay-o-retorno · 4 years

Text

You’re a WHAT

Kanene’s Notes:

I’m weak for carzy scenarios and glitter, so BOOOM!! Why don’t get these two things together??? :D)/ This fic marks the end of my break, I will be (trying to) going back to my old projects and probably won’t be writing for some weeks kjnhgfvghjkjhg. Wish me luck! <33

This wasn’t suppose to take so much to be written but I lost my PC and life got in the way :v Buuuut! I manage to finish it and I already count this as a victory! xP

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That fanfic has Remy and Roman. They’re friendos yay :3. Oh, and this is pretty crazy. Context: The morning after Black Friday when you’re grumpy and wanting to kick the society in the face. A LOT of swearing, Patton does not approve.

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to the amazing Thomas Sanders in his series of Sanders Sides.

* Something around 2.900 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Try and have fun with new hobbies, be safe, talk with the one that you love, drink water and sleep well! Byeioo!~

[~*~]

Roman thought himself as a really lucky human being. Unbelievable lucky.

It wasn't due to the apartment where he currently lived - Too much dull for his personal taste and space, getting even smaller from the day he admitted a messy, sassy and with sleep problems roommate, since Roman just started his musical career and couldn't afford an own house yet. - or the fact that was finally able to pursue his dream after years and years of just picturing, painting this moment on his future, only to find out his fantastic breathtaking and incredible goals weren’t nearly close of the cold reality, at least for now (Who would know that, after umpteenth days of hard studying and training he would need years and years of experience in order to even START wondering in get out of his partial-time job on that Electronic Store) or any other reason someone would be able to consider himself a receptacle of pure, brute luck, enlightened by the spotlights of the good, pleasant destiny...

... Or at least the most pleasant it could be in the horrible and exhaustive middle of the night after a whole day filled with his attempts to survive and treat respectfully the unmerciful, dirty jungle that humanity was at Black Friday. Something around fifteen hours working with massive hordes of unscrupulous zombies starved for a sale and able to even kill and die (more likely the first option) to get what they want and with souls (if they still got one) free of any slight sight of education, patience and morals to be inserted in a society which, as it seemed, was equally rotten as them. View point only proved as Roman was obligated to be working after his shift to "clean all the mess" - more like hide the bodies of exhausted warriors after such bloody battle. – the store because those sons of a...

"... Bitch, YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!!!!" The poor, frustrated employed shouted to nowhere specific, his face turning towards the sky, seeking in some way to show his all his hate to the cinematography - because this was too much coincidence to NOT be part of a movie or some random fanfic on the black hole that was internet - rain falling at full force leading the weather to became even more freezing as soaked them both with its cool, thick drops.

Anyway, what he was daydreaming about?

"Roman." Oh, yeah, the reason why he viewed himself as a truly lucky person. "My gurl, if you try to impersonate a fucking, dramatic, bitch crow in my ear even again, I swear in the name of my life juice bean that I'm going to KILL you with my bare hands and these sunglasses."

At least his best friend since, honestly, diapers, who coincidentally was his roommate and even more coincidentally, his coworker was just screwed as Roman himself. Which automatically made the duo less screwed, however equally pissed off, something that neither of them discovered if that was a good or bad thing, yet.

"Fuck you, Remy" Roman whispered between an tired yawn, too much tired to even think about some nickname or to put real heat in his words as he got instinctively closer to the other, the one called taking off his jacket and lazily throwing it over their heads, doing his best to cover they both with the small available black leathered fabric, the act intertwined with grumpy grumbling and motions which would probably slap Roman's face if he wasn't careful. "I'm the one who buys your coffee."

"Having my incredible, unique personality in your life should be motivation enough for you to buy me the entire Starbucks Company, be glad I'm weak to your cute face and am going easy on ya."

" 'Cute'? Excuse me, I'm the most handsome, hottest and fabulous man you will ever met in your lowly life, mortal."

Remy snorted at this "Whatever helps you sleep at night, babe, but if it's going to be like that your ego soon will have to pay his part at the rent."

"Well, this 'ego' here was the only thing between your highness and jail after stopping you from committing all those murders today."

"Bold of you to assume I wouldn't use my contacts to hide the evidences." Their tune were already completely sleepy, bodies instinctively leaning onto each other as the words stumbled, mixed and almost lost themselves in the soundly wind as slipped from their lips. Roman just laughed.

"Well, if by ‘contacts’ mean 'Virgil' good luck getting him out of his bed on his free day. You would became the fucking new King Arthur." Roman rubbed his eyes, trying to physically force his eyelashes to not close, a new yawn finding its way to his mouth. He didn't even know about what they were talking anymore.

"I roll the dice to cast Badass Nerd Bitch."

“Logan??”

“He likes to study nature stuff, especially at night, I’m sure he already knows some good spots to hide bodies. Glasses.”

“Glasses?”

“Glasses.”

“OMG, the anime character with glasses.” Roman stopped, his mouth wide open as if all the secrets of the universe had been revealed to him.

“Exactly.” Remy extended each syllable, grinning smugly.

“I’ve never-“

“THIS IS A ROBERY!!”

The sentence, which appeared to came out from nowhere, cut the air in a harsh, sharp tune, breaking the barriers and tying them up in the same place in a frozen position and wide eyes staring astonished the hooded form and their unreadable features under the bad illumination of the light poles helped by the increased storm. The wind trespassed them, stirring their clothes and making the muscles shake both of the alone employees in the middle of a dark, empty street at the dawn, even if the dangerously shiny knife directed towards their direction still in a hatred silence.

“My.” Roman knew he probably should be afraid, the freezing feeling running across his veins and frightening his brain and actions as infected his words in an unspeakable terror impossible to ignore nor escape. “fucking.” However, the only thing that slipped through his next was the purest, deepest, truest... “ASS.” Indignation.

Roman thought about a lot of things. He thought about running away, grabbing Remy’s arm and sprinting across the street, about scream in the top of his lungs the waterfall of swearing already racing half way to his throat and even about kicking the knife out of the other’s hands and then kicking him - with a couple of cool moves he saw in some actions films - together with their frecking audacity to try to rob him of all the people in the world. Roman, who asked himself if he would have enough money to eat in the next week with a concerning frequency, who wondered if this is the life he will have until the end of his existence, if he will ever be able to accomplish his dreams.

His gaze changed to Remy, who was paralyzed, trembling between the poor light of the street and the massive rain. Roman swallowed. Everything was in his hands.

For a piece of Roman felt the strange urge to spill to the figure before him the story of his life, all his tries, all his battles, his everyday fights to make his dreams real. Blow by blow. Day by day. A life destined to go after everything he wished to himself, everything he wanted to life, to experience, to savor, to do everything in his hands to ignore and one day maybe, hopefully forget all the ghosts - these ones always accompanied by those emotionless, sharp whispers - asking, doubting nonstop if he ever would be able to do all of this, if he was doing the rights thing, if it was really worth all of it.

However, before the first word even slipped of Roman’s tongue or his mind came fully back to Earth, Remy was already positioning himself strategically between the robber and his friend, the currently only one with the leather jacket falling on his shoulders. However, Remy didn’t seem nearly soaked as he should be, and for a heartbeat, the same one which Remy moved his hands to his jeans’ pocket, his fingers touching and firmly holding something there, Roman could swear that the unexpectedly shiver running across his spine wasn’t due the cold wind.

Nor the sentence hurled in the clouds.

“You know what?? Fuck it.”

And then he unsheathed his magic wand.

Roman loved with the entirety of his heart all kind of magic, he could easily spend an entire afternoon (which he already had, by the way) listing his favorites movies, musicals and stories with that theme. That also could be easily said by the thousands and thousands of worlds, universes and lifes he invented – in and out of his head - about the subject trough his childhood and handful of teenage years, random ideas and inspirations appearing and dancing in his mind until nowadays. If that only wasn’t enough to convince someone then the umpteenth memories of mornings and afternoons bathed in the smell of books, rocked by the calm silene of the public library as he turned one more page, his back lightly aching by the bad position assumed behind the shelters, in a place he strategically found and claimed as his own Bridge to Terabithia, enjoying every moment as if nothing else mattered. Perhaps you wouldn’t even need to swim in such deep, ancient waters to find out his love, since at least fifty percent of his day was dedicated to shout, hummer or murmur Disney songs.

However, as rays of pure energy - shiny and kind of glittery one - involved and swirled from Remy’s, who now was floating a few centimeters above the ground, wand in stripes that got lighter and lighter, begging to spin faster around the aforementioned, creating a spere of a power stunning and big enough to stop the rain in the corner.

The silence resulting from the lack of the storm didn’t had the opportunity to fill the moment, being obligated to give its space to a soft, intense melody whispered in their ears. The notes standing some more moments in the air, the beating following the changes in the shadowed figure inside the spere. Hesitations taking over the loud, quick heartbeats when the song finally stopped.

The power’s spere finally exploded, the impact leading to an unbelief and intensive force push both human meters away.

“Get. Out.” Remy’s tune still the same, his form – Now adorned by a gleaming crop top, his fluttering skirt over shorts floating in synchrony with the veils which surrounded his clothes and wrapping his arms, the ending spreading in the air as a bunch of angry powered and fancy snakes. - even with the new vestments full of glitter (this probably would be a hell to get off, later) still the same, his gaze, powerful – a new meaning pouring from this word – strong, still the same. But yet…

Yet his wide eyed, heart hammering in his chest friend since he could remember found himself struggling to connect the same Remy who he had known – if he could still say that? - all his life with the same being who gleamed dangerously before him.

The magic wand danced in a quick flick and a trash can came of what seemed nowhere to hit the wobbled and absolutely terrified robber, who fell with a soft thumph in the ground, unconscious.

“-man, Roman!!! Don’t just stay standing there like a tree, help me here, gurl!” Suddenly the called snapped from his own sea of thoughts, submerging and astonished blinking in Remy’s direction. The rain started to fell on them again, and when their eyes met, when Roman saw the same guy who spent afternoons climbing trees and pretending they were knights and dragons attacking or saving the world, when he recalled the silent sleepovers where they just sat near of each other enjoying the mutual company, the grumpy mornings in their apartment, the comfort hugs, the looks full of words, the smiles filled with meaning, the friendship stuffed with so many, many memories...

Nostalgia. The feeling that everything was changed albeit something… something important always stayed. Roman felt, truly felt it and fixed his glare into that brilliant – quite literally - glare adorned with a ‘I’m about to punch your cocky face if you keep fucking narrating every freaking second of your life, ya bitch’ he realized...

It was Remy.

He took a deep breath, moving closer and gradually relaxing as the aforementioned focused in trying to lift the guy, swearing more frequently than raindrops fell from the sky.

“Remy?”

“Yeah?”

“First crush.”

The other stopped, frowning confused. Roman didn’t quiver, feeling he deserved some sort of answer. At least about this. “What?”

“My first crush. Who?”

“Kovu.” Remy maybe was a bit cold hearted, maybe he wasn’t the best with human interactions or knew exactly what Roman wanted with that… but he knew Roman enough to realize this was important. Essentially when the said seemed to relax, his form untensing itself and being allowed to get closer of the magic being.

“Okay. Okay, okay…” Roman took a deep breath, grounding himself. Their gaze met, his next words coming a little calmer. “Okay.”

“Please don’t make me sing that serenate you made for him. I’m gonna fucking quit.”

“Oh, shut up!! Our first love is something special, mister I-Can’t-Choose-Between-The-Beast-And-The-Beauty.”

Remy decided to ignore the words, slightly lowing his sunglasses with his special Judgmental ‘Bold of you to assume I have enough shame to be mocked’ Look. Roman just flipped in his direction, taking advantage that the other’s hands were occupied.

It was still Remy, with a whole more of style and glitter – Why are there so much glitter here?? - but it was just Remy. Like just any other day.

Before he even realized, Roman was already at his friend’s - and as it seems a magical being - side, helping him to carry the robber’s body to somewhere dry so he wouldn’t die of hypothermia.

“Why don’t you- Ouch!! My feet, dammit!” His breaths came out as puffs, the effort leading to his already exhausted muscles only protest even more and very much probably curse him later with sore movements for the audacity to transport anything heavier than a pen. “Why don’t you use your... Wizard magic or something to carry him??”

“Oh. My. Gosh. Roman, you are sooo intelligent, why aren’t you in Harvard? Ow! Ow! Ow!!” Remy’s sarcasm was cut when the other kicked, or did his best to with their actual position, him in protest. “Homophobic.” He exhaled a mix of irritation and a snort, receiving a playful punch in his arm by their inside joke. “I’m your Fairy Godmother, brainless. Unless it was you laid in this stupid, cold ground I can’t use my magic anymore... Except if this is someone of your family but I doubt-”

“Wait, wait, wait, WAIT!!! YOU ARE MY FAIRY GODM-”

“No, no way, nope, we are NOT having this conversation right now.” Remy, the Fairy Godmother let go of the unconscious body in a way that probably will make the guy wake up sore, perhaps with a concussion even, directing his index finger in Roman’s direction in a deep, determined stare full of darkness and things that Roman could swear would make Remy be expelled from the group of Friendly Fairy GodmotherS or whatever... thing he was inserted. “Let me tell you what we are doing right now: We are going to home, change our clothes then I’m getting coffee and you will get sleep so I don’t have to face nor care about the freak consequences of my damn actions.”

...

“That...” Roman stop, as if was considering his next words. Remy’s face just scrunched in a bigger, firmer frown. “That would be hella scary if you didn’t look like someone who just stole a store of glitter and got attacked by the gay, glitterly, shiny fairies who protected the place.”

“Go fuck yourself. I’m locking you outside when we get there.”

“Noo, please don’t! My evil stepmother didn’t let me go to the prince castle and now I need help! Crying emoji, crying emoji.” Roman mocked, imitating sad sobs and sniffles as quick his pace to follow the other, who flipped him.

“I’m this far from knock you out with my magical wand and then you will see who is the evil stepmother.” His wand gleamed in warning, the red color getting mixed and trembled by the fast movements of his veils, one of them getting dangerously next to Roman’s face, who cleverly got silent for some heartbeats, the sound of the rain slowly calming their heartbeats and rocking them, the tiredness gaining the space which, piece by piece, was being unhanded by their adrenaline.

They arrived home, both still quiet, feeling free as a relieved sign left their lips. Remy threw his soaked jacket in some dark corner, the bed being the only thing which was allowed to take over all his thoughts and will.

An awed gasp echoed behind him and he immediately regretted his move.

“YOU HAVE WINGS????”

Before his eyelashes closed, the shiny of the wand disappearing gradually as an ungodly amount of sleepiness gained complete control over his body, relaxing each one of his fibers and as a warm, magic good feeling fills every single cell in his being, Roman wondered if ‘Fuck it’ was the name of Remy’s spell.

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sarahjtrash · 5 years

Text

Snow-Crossed Love

Jurdan, Rated T, 4.3 K

Summary: If people are lucky, their soul mark appears on their sixteenth birthday. The marks are words, always the first spoken by their soulmate to them. Cardan Greenbriar and Jude Duarte have both been blessed with such marks, but after a few years, they both feel slightly hopeless when it comes to find the one. Maybe their luck is about to change.

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this. I kind of want to write a part two, so let me know if you'd be interested. Enjoy!

-o-0-o-

Cardan Greenbriar ate out. A lot.

Breakfast, lunch, dinner, Monday through Friday, he constantly tried different restaurants, rarely the same place twice. People assumed it was from pure laziness, his family’s exorbitant wealth and his laissiez-faire playboy demeanor. He never tried to dissuade them of these notions, but in all honesty, Cardan didn’t even mind cooking.

No, Cardan ate out with alarming regularity because of his mark.

Not everyone had the honor to get one, but Cardan’s had manifested when he turned sixteen, and it changed his habits almost overnight. To Cardan, there was really only one way that he would meet his soulmate. Their words to him were so direct and simple.

“Good evening. My name is Jude, and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with anything to drink?”

When it came to first words, Cardan was beyond lucky. Not only did he have an occupation, but he also had a name. For the first three years, Cardan chose to dine at restaurants for almost every meal, hoping beyond hope that maybe this would finally be it, the moment he would meet his Jude. Sometimes, he would just meander into restaurants and ask if anyone there had that fabled named. While it was an odd question to ask, it saved him from having to pretend to enjoy yet another meal.

However, after three years of never eating at home, Cardan and his wallet grew tired. The last two years of college introduced him to new opportunities too. Now, even though only twenty-one, Cardan understood he had the rest of his life to find his soulmate, but patience was never something he specialized in. It was in the last two years that Cardan had really invested himself into the drinking culture. Perhaps it also coincided with the fact he was in college, but Cardan learned that his money may be more well spent on alcohol than fancy meals.

Regardless, those first few years of having a mark, it was all Cardan could think about. His thoughts seemingly always repeating the same word over and over again.

Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude.

He used to think about it so much sometimes that his freshman year notes had pages filled with the name. The ink completely covered anything useful.

However, recently, he could spend a few days where he realized that he hadn’t given the mark, or Jude, any thought. It was these moments of realizations that drove him to near panic.

What if he’d been eating with friends and laughed through the introduction? What if their meeting was during an awful date with Nicasia, and the server chose to let him remain in his miserable bliss? What if he met them before he even had a mark, so he didn’t know to listen? What if he actually had met them, but they hadn’t cared?

It was alone that Cardan felt that weight of these fears the most, but sometimes even alone, he felt himself forgetting its significance. Normally his commutes to and from college were when his mind was tortured but the constant cycling that was Jude, but tonight presented a completely different problem.

Instead, what commanded his attention was the snow that was positively dumping from the heavens. Small midwestern highways were already painstakingly slow, but with snow drifts that wouldn’t be cleared for at least another day, if people moved faster than 15 miles an hour, it was a miracle. He’d already seen five cars slide into the ditch in real time, and saw another ten sitting there hopelessly in the past hour. Cardan was no idiot, he knew he needed to get off the road and into some lodging as soon as possible.

The snow blocked any cell service Cardan could hope for, but after almost an hour of hoping for a place to pull over, he finally saw some indication of population. Ahead was a sign that advertised a motel and a diner, and Cardan really had never seen anything more appealing.

He turned his blinker on and prayed that his car would make it up the small hill that was the exit ramp. After only a few stutters, he managed to pull into the fairly empty parking lot. The boy who served as concierge couldn’t have been more than twelve as he explained the layout of the motel, which Cardan heard none of. He just wanted to lay down and close his eyes. Eventually, the boy handed him a set of real keys, not a swipe card, and Cardan thought himself incredibly lucky.

His good fortune ended, though, when his stomach released an unworldly growl as he threw his bag on the sad queen-sized bed. It was almost midnight, and the diner closed soon, but without a willingness to drive anywhere else, it left him no choice. He trudged back through the parking lot, scarf wrapped high over his face, towards the music themed establishment. The snow and his tiredness caused him to stumble a few times, but he finally was able to grab the note shaped handle.

A little bell altered the waitstaff of his arrival, and he catalogued the checkered floors and fifties theme. Along the front windows was a row of booths, colored a gaudy red and white with sparkles in them, and in front of him stood a large, long soda bar with backless stools. There were menus hanging from the ceiling behind the bar advertising everything from milkshakes to lobster. He should not have expected anything less. In the corner, were two girls in matching blue dresses with aprons tied around their waist, one with her back to him, and the other counting money.

It was the one with the money that called, “Feel free to sit anywhere, we’ll be right with you.”

He nodded before taking off his layers and sitting at the barstool in the middle.

-o-0-o-

It’s not that Jude Duarte didn’t believe in love, it’s just that her soul mark seemed a cruel joke. It was so incredibly short and generic that literally anyone could be her soulmate. All she could hope was that whatever she said to her soulmate first was something rather distinct, otherwise they may never find each other.

All they were supposed to say was “Hi.”

As someone in the public service industry, that was an incredibly misleading and dull introduction. She knew soulmates sometimes never even worked out, or the occurrence was between a dying man in his 30s and his new nurse, or one of the people was already married with kids, or they simply detested each other. Too many things in this life had treated her unfairly for her to prematurely get her hopes up over something as trivial as a soulmate.

Regardless, it was just nights like these where the diner was quiet, and it was late at night that her mind began to wonder. She never really dreamed that her person would find their way to Madoc’s shitty little diner. In the middle of nowhere, sometimes they went half a day without a single customer. Jude just had a hunch that her soulmate was probably going to come later in life, when she could leave this hellhole and meet some people.

“Jude,” Vivi chastised as she counted the money pulled from the registers.

Jude hummed in question.

“Nothing good ever comes when you think about your soul mark like that,” Vivi responded.

Jude rolled her eyes. “I am not thinking about my soul mark.”

Vivi stopped her counting to giver her a look.

While Jude wished she didn’t know what that look meant, she certainly did. In her lower moments, Jude had pursued customers who had said hi to her in hopes that maybe they were trying to be more reserved about pursuing their soulmate. All that had lead to thus far was disappointment and bad make outs. She’d only had the mark for three years, and she hadn’t even approached that many people.

“Viv. We’ve been over this. I don’t just sleep with anyone who says ‘hi’.”

Vivi had finished her counting. “I know. My littler sister is probably too pious for her own good.”

Jude yawned and glared at her sister. “Whatever. I just hope no one shows up in the next half hour.”

Vivi nodded in agreement. While there may have been a storm raging outside and the night had been slightly busier than normal with wayward travelers, Jude still despised people who thought it okay to eat at restaurants near closing. Jude had already been waiting for midnight to roll around, but the last hour of her shift had dragged excessively.

Vivi flicked her eyes over Jude shoulder just as the the little chime above the door rang. “Don’t speak too soon,” Vivi whispered, before hollering out to the customer, “Feel free to sit anywhere, we’ll be right with you.”

Jude silently tried to beg Vivi to take whoever it was that walked through the door, but her sister smiled sweetly at her as she said, “As the manager on duty, I need to make sure back of house is good to go for the night—” she looked over at whoever had walked in the door— “and it appears that Mr. dark, broody, and handsome is sitting in your section anyway.”

It was moments like these where Jude really wanted to murder her sister. Vivi just patted her hand before going back through the swinging doors that lead to the kitchen. Almost instantly, Jude could hear Heather and Vivi start quietly chatting, and she understood her sister’s true intentions to go check on back of house. Neither of them had soul marks, but they’d seemed to find their own little slice of happiness in the middle of nowhere and Jude couldn’t fault them for that.

When she turned around to go look at the man, she noticed objectively that he was exactly as Vivi had described. His cheek bones were exceptionally sharp, and his outfit, though ostentatious, did wonders for his lithe body. Jude felt herself blush as she approached, scolding herself for such girlish analysis. The exhaustion on his face showed that he really wasn’t looking to be chatted up anyway. When she stood across from him at the soda bar, she greeted him while looking at her notes.

“Good evening. My name is Jude, and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with anything to drink?”

His hesitation was too long. When she looked up at him, his face seemed frozen in shock. As she had been walking over, he hadn’t even bothered to put the menu down from his face, but he now set it gently on the counter, closing it as he did so.

“Hi,” he said in a daze.

That one word sent Jude’s heart absolutely pounding. His gaze was so intense, it almost made her squirm, but she held her ground. It felt stupid for even hoping, but his reaction to her introduction just seemed too peculiar, too at odds with his previously relaxed and tired demeanor.

Her shock to his reaction led her to challenge, “Is that all your going to say?”

He smirked at her, and Jude felt something change deep within her gut. “Is that all I’m supposed to say?”

Despite his cocky demeanor, Jude couldn’t ignore the way her heart continued to pound. She rolled her eyes all same, trying to maintain her nonchalant demeanor. While she tried to keep calm, he showed no such restraint as his arm shot out and grabbed her wrist.

Quietly, he said, “Maybe I shouldn’t have started there. What is the other servers’s name?”

“Vivienne.” Jude squinted at him.

He never broke eye contact with her as he called, “Hey, Vivienne, could you come out here for a second?”

His eyes were devastatingly dark, and they seemed to peer deep into her soul as they waited for Viv to come out.

She heard the double door that led to the kitchen swing open and the quiet “oh” her sister released when she saw Jude and the man. Their intense gaze probably revealed everything better than any explanation that Jude could give. Were it any other moment, Jude would’ve laughed.

Still, with that intense eye contact, he said, “We’ll take two of Jude dear’s favorite.”

Jude peaked her eyebrows at the nickname, but chose not to argue as she added, “And one peanut butter chocolate milkshake. Two straws.”

He nodded in agreement before Jude started to untie her apron and walked around the counter. Unfortunately, there was only one exit from the bar, forcing a direct bypass of Vivi.

Her sister’s eyes flickered over to the man, who was still watching them, and then mouthed, Is he yours?

Jude knew it was ridiculous because he could definitely see them both from his vantage point, but Jude still gave Vivi a small nod. Her sisters eyes grew very large before she sprinted into the back room.

Jude tried not to groan at whatever Vivi was about to do back there, and first stalked over to switch the sign to closed before sitting down next to the man. All the while, she could feel his eyes pierce into her.

She tucked her skirt underneath her when she finally sat, and didn’t deign to look at him as she said, “I don’t think it’s really fair that you have always known my name, and I don’t get to know yours.”

She straightened her napkin in front of her before looking at him questioningly.

“You may call me whatever you wish, but my parents named me Cardan Greenbriar.”

Her soulmate had already proven himself to be dramatic in his black skinny jeans, loafers, and a flowy, low-cut blouse with pearls sewn around the cuffs. His name certainly matched everything about him.

“Alright, Cardan, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” At his surprised expression, she amended. “Soul mark, I mean.”

He smirked at her once again, before turning around and lifting up his shirt. Etched across his back was, Good evening. My name is Jude, and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with anything to drink?, clear as day in what appeared to be her handwriting.

When he turned back around, Jude rolled her sock down to reveal the small Hi tattoo on her right ankle. As they both examined the small black word he said, “I feel as though I should apologize for the curtness of my greeting.”

“It certainly kept me on my toes.”

His smile changed to something more sheepish. They held eye contact again, but it felt more awkward and wholesome, as if the true reality of what was happening really settled between them. Jude appreciated the dimples around his mouth and the small dusting of freckles across his nose. The universe certainly had chosen someone beautiful for her.

The longer they stared, the more the quietness felt awkward. Jude opened her mouth to say something, but Heather set their milk shake and hamburgers down in front of them.

“Enjoy!” She said entirely too brightly and loud.

Jude shook out of whatever moment they’d just shared before calling a thanks to Heather.

“Who was that?” Cardan asked.

“Heather.”

Cardan seemed like he wanted to know more, but before he could, Jude asked, “What brings you out to the middle of nowhere?”

She leaned into to take a sip of their shake and savored its sweet flavor.

“What makes you say I’m not from here?”

Jude gave him a very pointed once over, as if his entire outfit explained his foreignness.

“Fine,” he began, “if you really must know, I am a student at Elfhame University, and I am on my way home for winter break. Normally, I can do the drive in one day, but the weather dictated otherwise this evening.”

Jude took his answer, and asked, “What do you study?”

“Fashion.”

She knew she shouldn’t be surprised considering his outfit and what appeared to be a thin sweep of eyeliner, but she couldn’t help the scoff that escaped her.

“What was that for?” Cardan asked indigently.

“Nothing,” Jude said. “I just thought that people who are lucky enough to go to college should choose majors that are…profitable after gradation.”

Now it was his turn to look offended. “I’ll have you know that I am graduating early with position lined up working in the Elie Saab atelier in Paris after I graduate this spring.”

Paris. That was the joke the universe decided to employ on her.

Besides the fact that Jude wasn’t really sure what Elie Saab or atelier was, her soulmate would be moving across the globe in a matter of months and they’d never see each other again. Jude rarely left the state, let alone travelled to another country.

“Sorry,” Jude said, “It sounds like a great opportunity, so congrats. I am just jealous of those who actually get to go, more so than my frustration at their fields of study.”

Cardan chewed on his burger thoughtfully before mercifully changing subject, “How old are you by the way?”

“Nineteen.”

He hummed. “And you clearly have been unable to go to college.”

She knew a prompted statement when she heard one. “We don’t really have much. My dad owns this place and the motel. I’ve been working since I was fourteen. I’ve been trying to save for college for years now, but it’ll probably be a few more before I have enough. I can’t take on too much debt.”

The mood seemed to dive with her statement, and Jude really didn’t feel like hashing out her sad little life to a man, soulmate or not, she’d only just met. Instead, she asked him about his job and college, and he in turn, asked about her life in this small town, what she did for fun. Their food soon became long forgotten as their conversation seemed to flow effortlessly between them.

For all their sarcastic quips, Jude couldn’t help but feel foolishly delighted by Cardan. She was certainly physically attracted to him, but she started to feel more attracted to his personality as well. Being around him felt as though someone looked into her heart and saw the most ridiculous, most childish desire there, and had plopped it down in front of her. It felt like a prank.

When they’d reached a lull, she asked, “When do you move to Paris?”

He cringed ever so slightly. “Next August. I graduate in May though, so I have some free time beforehand.”

She nodded. In eight months, he’d be on the other side of the globe. Before that, he would be a six hour drive, in fair weather, from her at University. Jude couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding that this may be the last time she’ll ever see him.

She opened her mouth to say as much, when a soft melody slowly drifted from the jukebox. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Vivi and Heather quickly dash out the diner and into the night.

Cardan laughed slightly before turning towards her, “I think that’s our cue.”

He stood up and offered a hand towards her, asking her for a dance.

Jude simply took his hand and let him lead her to the narrow lane of checkered tiles. He set his hands on her waist, and Jude placed hers on his shoulders. This close, she could really see the contours of his face, the way his upper lip had a small scar through it, how his eyelashes splayed almost haphazardly. He was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

The diner felt so at odds to their situation. She wasn’t supposed to meet him here. She was supposed to be New York or London or Shanghai or some other place she’d only seen pictures of. She was supposed to have a lifetime with him, not this stolen moment in a shitty diner. She was supposed to have direction in her life. As the song changed, and his hand slid out to grab hers, Jude pretended she was a queen. It was silly, but she imagined them as king and queen of a far away land sharing a dance in an empty ballroom.

It seemed he shared her grim thoughts as he murmured, “I really hope this isn’t the last time I see you.”

She looked up at him and hummed her agreement. “We can exchange numbers.”

“Oh?” he asked with mirth. “I was hoping we would just send letters via carrier pigeons.”

Jude rolled her eyes, blushing slightly. “What are we, fae?”

Something seemed to change in his eyes as he looked at her, and Jude couldn’t help but lick her lips.

“No,” he said quietly. “But I do find you distressingly magical.”

It felt like a dumb thing to say in the moment with dimmed lights and the ambient music, but Jude found she didn’t care as he brought his lips down to hers. Their kiss was soft and felt almost sinful at how chaste it was. Jude dragged her hands into his messy locks as his began to roam her back. His tongue came to press against the seam of her lips, which she opened for him without hesitation. Though it was passionate, their kiss was gentle and sweet like they didn’t want to break whatever was between the two of them, like they had all the time in the world. It almost brought tears to her eyes.

Jude was unsure of how long they stood there or when Cardan had backed her against a wall, all she knew was that kissing him felt like she’d learned how to breath for the first time. It made her insides feel molten, and her mind powerful. If someone as beautiful as him deemed her special, then maybe she could be. It filled her up and made her feel whole. When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers but kept his eyes closed.

His breath came out ragged.

She whispered into the small space between them when it seemed he wouldn’t speak first. “I am really glad I met you.”

He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“And I you.”

Her heart twitched at that, and she pulled him back to her lips again. He indulged her desires, hand grazing up her thigh, coaxing it around his waist. She felt like she could never, would never get enough of this, of him. She moaned as much into his mouth as her other leg came to wrap around his waist. His mouth left hers and began to explore her neck. It was obvious from the way he moved that he was incredibly more experienced than her.

It didn’t stop her from reaching for the buttons of his blouse.

Her hands seemed to snap him out of whatever had settled between them. He actually had the audacity to pull back again. It felt heady, and Jude was now the one squeezing her eyes shut.

“I should probably get back to my room,” he whispered.

She opened her mouth to protest, and he shook his head as he said, “I was supposed to be home today. I don’t have service to tell my brother I’ll be late. I need to be back as early as possible if I don’t want to upset him too much.”

Jude opened her eyes. Cardan wasn’t looking at her, and he almost seemed in pain.

It was something Jude hoped to never see again, and leaned in to peck his lips. Regardless, she respected his restraint and nodded. It really was getting late and he still had a drive ahead of him tomorrow. He set her down, pulled her in tight once more, and pulled out his phone to exchange numbers. When they finally left the place, Jude supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised that he helped her clear off her car before he gave her a few pecks and stomped back towards his room.

The wind whipped his hair in a whole mess of directions, and the snow dusted little white flecks throughout. Right before he unlocked his door, he turned towards her and waved. She raised her hand in response, knowing that he probably couldn’t see her anyway. She hoped this wasn’t the last time she saw him.

-o-0-o-

Though it had physically pained him, Cardan knew that they had to end their little make out session early. Balekin would kill him if he arrived looking exhausted and as though his delay was due to tumbling in the sheets with someone. Thinking of Balekin seemed like wasted mental energy when he had just met Jude, his Jude.

When she’d turned around towards him, he thought that she was one of the most beautiful people he’d ever seen. When she’d said those words to him, he thought he might pass out. Her wicked tongue and thoughtful curiousness made him want her more. Jude made him wish that he had never applied to positions in Paris.

Not that he’d change his mind, just that he felt like the he was being torn from one of the best things in his life. He continued down this line of thought as he removed his outfit and washed his face. As he crawled under the covers, his driving experience and the late hour started to really weigh on him, but he still pulled out his phone to try and send one text.

Almost ten minutes of writing and rewriting variants of the same message, he decided on something simple. The universe seemed to support this decision and let his three little words send.

Goodnight Jude, dear.

It seemed to support him even more when he actually got a response.

Goodnight, Cardan. <3

He would never admit the cheeky grin that consumed his face as he fell into a deep sleep.

-o-0-o-

Masterlist

#jurdan #Jude x cardan #tfota #tcp #twk #holly black #Jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #high queen of elfhame #taryn duarte #vivienne #vivi x heather #my fanfic #mine #jurdan fanfic #jurdan hc #soulmark #jurdan soulmark #jurdan soulmate

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