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ari-writes-hq · 3 years

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Unlucky Days and Back Scratches

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Bokuto x Fem! Fiancée! Reader

Summary: Bokuto has a really bad day and just wants to be in the arms of his love

Words: 2,476

Warnings: Bokuto has a bad day (he's accident prone), fluffy fluff, and some grammar errors maybe?

A/N: I'm genuinely terrified to post this for it is my very first fan fic (that I started and finished and it took me 3 days to do so too). I'm honestly getting the confidence to post it because it's 12:20 am and @toru-oikawas-milkbread. Please be nice to me and I hope that ya'll enjoy <3

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It had been a very, very, very long and rough day for Bokuto Kōtarō. It first started when he had accidentally overslept, due to staying up late into the night making love to his beloved girlfriend-turned-fiancée and had completely forgotten the early start that Meian had scheduled for the team, he was late to practice by nearly three hours. On top of that, “Silent Mode” was turned on on his phone as well, so he didn’t hear the mass messages and calls from his various teammates.

Aside from waking up late, Bokuto struggled leaving the house. How could he leave his long term girlfriend of nearly four years who had just agreed to marry him, and someone who doubled up as his best friend, all alone in their big apartment? The beefy 6’2 male just wanted to stay home and wrap himself around his woman who slept peacefully next to him in all her naked glory. If she had been clothed, Bokuto probably would have only been an hour late to practice. He doesn’t regret it though, he knows that he’s going to end up staying late to make up for the time that he had lost.

When Bokuto finally made it to the MSBY building, he had tried to sneak his way to the locker rooms, but with his luck and the morning he was having, he had accidentally knocked over the janitor’s broom and mop that had been leaning up against the wall. Quickly, his coach and teammates, who were having a small discussion of what to work on next, whip their heads towards the noise, finding a sheepish and guilty Bokuto. Within seconds, he was bombarded by his coach and teammates.

Somehow escaping their wrath, Bokuto was able to finally make it to the locker room where he struggled to open his locker. Has the code changed? Did someone switch his lock as revenge for him coming in late? About fifteen minutes later, with the help of Sakusa, who was sent in by Meian, he found out that he had just been twisting the knob the wrong way. Then, while trying to change, he realized his jersey was far too small and as he was trying to get the constricting article off, he had accidentally tripped and fell over one of the metal benches. There is now a bruise on his left shin.

During practice, and after getting a new shirt, Bokuto’s work performance seemed to lack. He kept messing up his serves. If he wasn’t hitting it, he was missing it. Then at one point he had put a little too much force into one of his spikes, causing the ball to lose control and hit one of the managers in the face, they walked away with a bloody nose. The salt and pepper haired male never truly believed in karma until now. As he was trying to receive a ball, the ball then bounced up from his upper forearms and nailed him in the face… fifteen times.

On top of that, he couldn’t get any of the new moves down. It was concerning since he was one to learn decently quickly when it came to new techniques. Meian had even questioned him about his performance loss. Bokuto had no idea, normally he was on top of his game both in practice and games. So why is he suddenly having a hard time with everything?

After practice, which ran three hours late in the night, Bokuto thought his bad luck was finally at a stand still. Outside, the sky was clear, the stars were bright, well, assuming that they were since the city lights made it impossible for anyone to see them, and there was a gentle fall breeze, so, Bokuto decided to walk home rather than message his lover, who he believed was asleep.

Not even three minutes out of the ten minute walk, rain had suddenly downpoured. Clouds rolled in, hiding the once clear sky, lightning flashed the same gold as Bokuto’s eyes, thunder rang in his ears, and the once gentle breeze suddenly became rough. If not for the rain, Bokuto’s gravity defying, black and white hair would have fallen into its dejected droop.

Why does the world hate me today? He had thought to himself as he huddled underneath a building's canopy. Quickly pulling out his phone, he had checked the time, Midnight, Y/N’s probably asleep. Maybe Akaashi? He opened his messages and pressed his old high school teammate’s name before pressing the text box and sending a quick, Akaaashi, are you still awake? Y/N dropped me off at work today and it was really really nice out when I got off so I decided to walk home instead of catching a ride but now it’s storming. I forgot my bag so I don’t have anything to protect me from the rain. Please, come save me. Satisfied with his message, he pressed “send” with a hopeful smile.

Roughly two very slow minutes passed by before Bokuto’s phone went off.

Yes, Bokuto, I am awake. I will come get you. Next time look at the weather forecast. Where are you? Was Akaashi’s reply. Bokuto grinned at his phone quickly sending him a,

Thank you, Akaashi! I’m-, Bokuto raised his golden eyes to look around his surroundings, not entirely sure where he is himself. I actually don’t know where I am. A few moments after sending the message, Bokuto’s phone lit up, an “incoming call” from the former setter. Answering it, Bokuto pressed the “speaker” button.

“Bokuto, how can you not know where you are? You know what, don’t answer that.” The male on the other side of the receiver sighs. “What are some shops and landmarks around you? Street names?” Bokuto hummed, quickly looking at his surroundings once again.

“Well, I do know I’m not too far away from the MSBY building, uh, there’s a fountain outside a res- oh wait! That’s the restaurant I proposed to Y/N last night! I’m under a… oh I forgot the name of the roof thingy,”

“A canopy?”

“Yes! That thing! I’m under one of those across from the restaurant I proposed to Y/N!”

“Good, okay. I’m on my way. Do not move from your spot, I don’t want you to get lost… again.” From the other side of the phone, Bokuto could hear his friend unlock and open his car door. “You understand?”

The former ace chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. “Yeah, yeah. Just hurry, please,” he basically whined. “I want to go home and cuddle Y/N. I miss her.” Akaashi rolled his eyes and hung up, causing Bokuto to pout down at his device. “Akaashi’s so mean.”

What seemed like an eternity, Akaashi’s car came into view. Bokuto, unsure if his friend can see him, raised his large arms and flailed them around, only stopping when the car came to a stop right next to him. Throwing the front passenger door open, Bokuto slipped into the seat and closed the door with a, “Thank you so much, Akaashi,” he put the seatbelt on. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

The dark haired man put the car in “drive”, starting his way towards the other man’s home, he replied, “Nah, you didn’t wake me up. I have my deadline coming up so I’m trying to finish everything as quickly as I can.” Bokuto nodded enthusiastically. The short car ride was filled with some talk of the past, bringing up some of their most memorable moments from high school, then, some of the talk was the two catching up, given the fact that the duo both worked two completely different jobs and have very little time to hang out anymore.

Akaashi talked about his work, telling what little he could to his friend, not wanting to spoil anything. Believe it or not, Bokuto read the little stories that Akaashi edits for his work, just because the two don’t see each other often doesn’t mean he can’t support his friend in other ways. After Akaashi, Bokuto talked about his day, how everything seemed to go wrong for him and all he wanted to do was to go home and be in his fiancée’s arms.

Soon enough, Akaashi pulls his car in front of a luxury apartment complex. Getting out with another, “thank you”, Bokuto closed the door and swiftly made his way into the building. Once Akaashi knew that his friend was inside, he drove off. The tall male was on a mission: get into the arms of his lover as quickly as possible. He knew that the moment she wrapped her arms around his body, even if he had to wake her up for it, his bad day streak would end.

Running up to the elevator, Bokuto pushed the “up” button and impatiently waited for the elevator with his thick arms crossed and a pout on his lips. Giving up with a huff, Bokuto makes his way to the stairs and runs up them, tripping at least five times and falling once. Why did I choose to live on the top floor? Y/N even said it was a bad idea. He grumbled to himself, tripping on the very last step that leads to his home.

Rushing to his front door, he removes his keys from one of his pockets and fumbles with said keys, even dropping them not once, not twice, but three times before he finally was able to unlock the door. Throwing it open, he yells, “baby, I’m home!”, as he takes off his shoes and places his keys on the hook next to the door. His golden eyes racl over the large, dark living room and the equally dark kitchen. Realizing that she is in fact not in the room, he makes his way towards their shared bedroom.

“Baby, you awake?” He slowly opens their closed bedroom door, trying to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake Y/N up if she is actually asleep. Peeking in, his eyes fall onto her body lying on his side of the bed, her back facing him. “Baby?” he whispers, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, albeit louder than intentional. This caused the girl to jump in her sleep and whine.

“Baby, you home?” she called out, turning towards the door, mind blank, not realizing and too tired to care that it could have been an intruder. The tall man hummed in confirmation and quickly started to take his clothes off, wanting nothing but to be in his lover’s arms as fast as possible. “Kou, you okay?” Y/N piped, worried as she watched the man catch his foot in his shorts and nearly face plant had he not caught himself on the edge of the bed. He launched himself onto the female.

“No, bad day,” he mumbled, face smooshed into her neck.

“Wanna talk about it?” Y/N ran her hand through his droopy salt and pepper hair. The larger man removed his body from the female’s, a pout on his lips as he sat back on his knees, Bokuto began to talk about his “unlucky day”.

Half an hour and many tangents later, he finished the detailed story of his day. Large hands reached out to Y/N and roughly, but softly, pushed her to lay flat on her back, then, Bokuto took hold of her arms and splayed them out on the bed, he did the same to her legs too. Happy with her position, Bokuto nestled himself in between her legs and covered the female with his body like a blanket.

Smooshing her cheek with his, he let out a puppy like whine. “Hold me,”. He reached his hands out to her arms and moved them around his torso. “Want you to hold me, baby, please, need it. Need you to.” Bokuto rubbed his nose against her cheek before peppering kisses down her neck and nuzzling into it. “Please, baby.” He whined more.

Chuckling softly, Y/N tightened her arms around the man and moved her head to the side to place a soft smooch on his head. “Of course, baby. Anything else you need?” Bokuto let another whine out, shifting himself so he could get closer to the woman, even though he was lying on top of her with all of his body weight. “Kō?” Bokuto mumbled into the female’s neck, although she couldn’t hear him. “Baby,” she tapped on his back. “Can’t hear you.”

The man huffed and lifted his head up, his black and white hair disheveled, golden eyes glossy, and a pout on his lips. “Scratch my back, baby, please,” he whined and dropped his head back down into the warmth of his fiancée’s neck. He wiggled in Y/N’s hold, scooching up her body so he was closer to her ear. “Pleeeeeease, baby.”

“Ask and you shall receive, my love.” Y/N’s left hand that was flat against Bokuto’s back arched into a claw. Slowly and softly, but with some pressure, she traced her nails up and down his back, or wherever he specified (the nape of his neck seemed to be his favorite spot). Every so often, Y/N would look at her ring finger to admire the pear shaped engagement ring that the male on top of her had proposed to her with the night before.

“Baby,” Bokuto lifted himself up to look at the woman. Y/N hummed, turning her head up towards him to make eye contact.

“Yes, Kō?” He had a lopsided grin on his face and gave a whiney chuckle when the girl’s nails scratched up his nape.

Bokuto moved closer to his lover’s face. “I love you,” he said confidently. “You’re the love of my life,” he nuzzled his nose into hers. “Never wanna let you go.” With that, he pressed his lips onto Y/N’s and flopped back onto her, whining and cooing into the kiss as she kept up with her ministrations. Pulling back from the kiss, he cooed into her ear, “So good to me baby. M’ safe haven. Can’t wait to marry you.”

With that, Bokuto gripped at Y/N’s sides, whining and cooing as he pulled themselves impossibly closer. Placing a small, wet kiss to her neck, Bokuto nuzzled himself back into the woman’s neck. Within the matter of minutes of Y/N scratching his back and a, “I love you too, Kō. I’ve got you, my love, you’re safe”, the love sick man fell asleep peacefully, happy, and safe in his lover’s arms, a smile on his face.

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buferfliz · 3 years

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I Love You More

Satori Tendou is my favorite Haikyuu character and I love him. This is rather self-indulgent but hopefully some people will like it. This should have been posted around Christmas but oh well.

I made the banner.

Word count: 2663

Warnings: Mentions of bullying, Fluffy sweet fluff, some cheesy nicknames but i like them

Awakened by feathery touches all over your face, you flutter open your eyes and are greeted with the source of said touches. Your boyfriend continues to place light kisses all over your face before placing the final one on your lips.

“Good morning my paradise,” the red head lying next to you greets.

You smile at him.

“Good morning my love. To what do I owe this pleasant wakeup call?”

“I couldn’t help myself, you looked so cute and I just wanted to cover you in kisses. But I might also have had an ulterior motive.”

You raise an eyebrow at his response. Satori Tendou, your boyfriend of five years though you’d been friends since middle school, always was full of surprises big and small alike. It was part of the reason you loved him so much, life was never boring.

You give him a little peck on the lips.

“And what might this ulterior motive be?”

“Well, it snowed last night. It’s still snowing actually.” He animatedly tells you.

You smile at how excited he sounds over the snow.

“Well it is almost Christmas after all, perfect time for snow. I see you’re excited about it. Is there something you wanted to do?”

“Well I would like to snuggle under a blanket with you and drink hot cocoa, but first…” He trails off and gives you a mischievous little grin.

“But first what?” You cautiously ask.

Tendou clears his throat and begins to sing.

“Do you wanna build a snowman?”

“Oh no.”

“It doesn’t have to be a snowman.”

“Are you seriously singing Frozen to me right now?” You laugh.

“So what if I am? You know you love when I sing to you.” He gives you a flirty grin.

“Well you got me there. I do love your songs.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“Do you wanna build a snowman?” He sings once more.

“Hmm, I don’t know.” You tease him.

He gives you a cute little pout.

“Aww, come on cupcake, please. I’ll make you some of my special homemade cocoa afterwards.”

Your eyes light up. Satori makes the best hot cocoa, you think as you smile.

“I would have said yes anyway but you promised me cocoa so now I’m going to hold you to it.” You give him a kiss on the lips before getting up to get dressed and ready for your outdoor playdate.

Ten minutes later you emerge from your bedroom. You walk through the twinkling glow of the lights on your decorated tree as you head to your front door. You take out all of the necessary outerwear from the closet and begin putting it on.

“Satori? I thought you wanted to build a snowman?” You call out when you don’t see him, having expected him to be all ready to go.

His voice rings out from the kitchen.

“Of course I do pumpkin. I was just getting everything out and set up for the cocoa later.”

He comes out of the kitchen with a couple of chocolates in his hand and pops one into his mouth before walking over to you.

“Do you want a piece?”

“Always. I love your chocolates but not as much as I love you.”

He smiles at you adoringly and puts the chocolate into your mouth before capturing your lips in a loving kiss.

“I love you more my paradise.” He says while looking at you as if you’re the only person in the world.

You smile at him. He was the sweetest person that you had ever met and you never did understand why people were always so mean to him when the two of you were younger. It pissed you off even just remembering it despite it being so long ago. Even now some people would occasionally look at him like he was some kind of freak and it pissed you off every time. Back in middle school you had been his only friend and you had ended up in quite a number of fights defending him from the bullies. You never regretted a single fight or the countless hours you’d spent in detention because of them. You’d never let anyone get away with being mean to the boy you loved. If you regretted anything it was the fact that it had taken until the first year of college for the two of you to become a couple. That didn’t matter now though because you were together and you’d never been happier.

“Are you ready?” You ask Tendou as you pull your hat on.

He finishes wrapping his unnecessarily long scarf around his neck and smiles.

“Yeah let’s go.”

You enter the front yard and spread out looking for the best place to build your snowman. As you scout the area, you glance up at the small house the two of you had moved into a couple of months prior and smile. It wasn’t anything big or fancy but it was warm and cozy and much bigger than the tiny one bedroom apartment you had moved into together after you graduated college a year and a half ago.

It looks pretty with the snow on the roof and the Christmas lights Satori outlined it in, you think as you admire the picture before you.

“I found the perfect spot pumpkin!” You hear your boyfriend excitedly call out.

You make your way over to his location and look around.

“You’re right, this is the perfect spot. Let’s get started.” You smile at him and begin forming the base of your snowman.

“It’s going to look great.” He enthusiastically replies before getting to work himself.

You finish shaping the head of your snowman and place it on top of the other two segments. You brush your gloves together to try and rid them of the excess snow before looking over at Tendou who is putting the head on top of the much taller snowman next to your own. He looks over at your snowman after he’s happy with the placement.

“Yours is missing something.” He says to you.

“Yeah, a face. So is yours.”

“No that’s not it. I mean yes they both need faces but yours is missing something else.”

You furrow your brow as you appraise your snowman. “What?”

He gives you a smirk before bending down and making two snowballs.

“You better not hit me with those.”

“No of course not cupcake. This is what yours is missing.”

He takes the two snowballs and affixes them next to each other on the middle segment of your snowman. You laugh as he smoothes them on.

“Seriously baby?”

“Yes. Yours is a snow woman.”

“Is that supposed to be me then? And this one is you, that’s why it’s so tall?”

“Exactly.” He smiles and kisses the tip of your nose.

“So it’s a snow couple of us. Cute.”

“Not just a snow couple.” Tendou quickly creates two smaller snowmen in front of the other two. “It’s a snow family.” He gives you a big smile.

“But we don’t have any kids.”

“Not yet but we will, right?”

“Yeah someday.”

“Hopefully someday soon.”

Your eyes widen slightly. Just how soon was he thinking? Though I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about us having a family of our own, you think to yourself.

“Hmm maybe but don’t you think we should at least be engaged first?”

“What are you talking about? We already are pumpkin.” He says with a smile.

You let out a laugh.

“Satori love, I don’t think you proposing when we were 12 counts, even if I did say yes. That candy ring was delicious though.”

He laughs.

“Only the best for my paradise.”

You laugh together as you reminisce on the fond memory,

“Ok. I’m going to go inside and get some stuff for the faces. You look for arm sticks.”

You nod your head and begin your search as he heads inside to get supplies.

Ten minutes later you have successfully found arm sticks for all the snowmen even some small ones for your snow children. Tendou still hasn’t come back outside and you begin to wonder what could be taking him so long. You decide to add a snow cat to your happy little snow family while you wait.

Ten minutes after that you were just about to go inside and see what was taking so long when he finally emerges from the house with a little box of assorted supplies. Buttons for the eyes, carrots for the noses.

“Is that red licorice?” You ask.

“Yeah it’s for the mouths and here’s some tinsel for your snow woman’s hair. And that’s not all.” With dramatic flair he presents to you a bag of red feathers.

“Oh I remember those. You had to have them when we were at the craft store. Is that what took you so long?”

“Yeah I had to look for them. I told you I’d use them.” He takes some of the longer ones out and begins placing them on the top of his snowman’s head, sticking straight up. You laugh.

“It really does look like your hair.”

He smiles at you and nods proudly as he continues decorating.

You pick up the buttons and get to work on your snow woman’s face as a shiver runs through you. Tendou notices.

“Why aren’t you wearing a scarf pumpkin?”

“Because I need a new one, I lost mine.”

“Well then come here.”

“What are you doing?”

“There’s a reason why I wear such a long scarf you know, it’s so I can share it with you.” He unwinds some of his unnecessarily long scarf from around his neck and wraps it around you.

You smile. “We’re going to have to stay close together then.”

“That’s just how I like it so no complaints from me.” He happily responds.

You stay close and finish up your snow family. You take a few pictures and then hurry inside out of the cold.

The two of you change out of your wet clothing and into something warm and dry before going into the kitchen.

You perch yourself on a barstool as Tendou gets to work making the hot cocoa. Before long he’s placing a steaming mug of it, complete with mini marshmallows, in front of you.

“Would you like a cupcake, cupcake?” He smiles.

“When did you make cupcakes?”

“This morning before I woke you up. They’re your favorite.”

Your face lights up.

“Funfetti?”

“Of course.”

“You’re too good to me, my love.”

He hands you one of the cupcakes before taking one for himself. The two of you spend the next few minutes quietly eating cupcakes and drinking cocoa.

“Mmm, so good.” You say as you enjoy your sweets.

You tilt your head back a bit and place the last piece of cupcake into your mouth when you notice something hanging from the ceiling.

“Is that mistletoe?” You ask after swallowing what’s in your mouth.

You look over to see a smiling Tendou looking back at you.

“Maybe.”

You smile and lean over, pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

“When did you even hang that?” You look back up at the mistletoe when you spot something attached to it.

“Is that a piece of paper?”

“Maybe.” He smirks. “You should grab it and see.”

“You know I can’t reach that.”

He grabs ahold of you and gives you a boost so you can reach the paper. You retrieve it and he puts you back down.

“Should I be worried?” You chuckle as you unfold the paper.

“Just read it.” He tells you with a chuckle of his own.

“Ok.” You fully unfold the paper and read aloud. “I am just the first of many hints to lead you on your search. To find clue number two, go to the place where you poo.”

You laugh out loud.

“Seriously love?”

“Yeah I couldn’t think of anything else that rhymed.” He says a bit sheepishly.

“Well I know where it is without question.” You lace your fingers with his and kiss the back of his hand before making your way to the bathroom.

You look up and see another mistletoe with another piece of paper.

“I’m going to need your help again, baby.”

“Not so fast pumpkin, where’s my kiss?”

You shake your head and go onto your tiptoes as he leans down. You give him another sweet kiss. He smiles at you and helps you to retrieve the next paper. You unfold it and read.

“Great job, you’re halfway there, now onto clue number three. I know what you’re thinking and it’s not a trap just go to the place where you like to nap.”

You smile and take hold of his hand again and head into the living room.

“You couldn’t put it over the couch so I could reach it?”

“Now where would be the fun in that? You know what to do.”

You put your arms around his neck as his hands make their way onto your hips. You give him a more passionate kiss this time before breaking away. He gives you another boost and you grab the next clue.

“Only one more left so don’t get feisty, go to the place where we make things spicy.”

You look over at your boyfriend who is wearing a teasing little smirk.

“Well I know where this is leading.” You give him a peck on the cheek. “This is fun. Thank you baby.”

Taking his hand once more, you head into the bedroom. You spot the mistletoe above the bed.

“Ah finally one I can reach on my own.” You look at Tendou. “You put all these up when you came in here to get the stuff for our snow family, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, you caught me. I wanted to surprise you so I couldn’t let you see them before I was ready.”

“You’re so freakin’ cute.” You smile and then climb onto the bed and retrieve the last paper.

“It seems you’ve come to the end of the line, now turn around cupcake and look me in the eye.”

You do as the note says and face Tendou. He helps you down off the bed before getting down on one knee in front of you. He holds your left hand as your right one goes to your mouth, eyes widening in surprise.

“I love you my paradise. I have ever since I proposed to you when we were 12. You’re the only one who has always been there for me, the only one who stuck up for me when I was being called monster and freak. You’ve always made me feel like a person and that I was loved, loved by you. I’m not sure how I got lucky enough to have someone as amazing as you love me but I’m so grateful that I do. You’re my everything. All I could ever ask for and more. I promise to always take care of you and love you with all I have from now until the rest of forever. Will you marry me?”

Your eyes well up with happy tears, a few escaping down your cheeks and you smile.

“I said yes then and I’m saying yes now. Of course I’ll marry you Satori, I love you so much, ever since we were 12. Always have, always will.”

He stands up and pulls you to him. You share a loving kiss as you hug each other tightly.

“I even got you a real ring this time.” He slips the ring onto your finger.

You let out a little chuckle and look at it.

“It’s beautiful my love.”

“Not as beautiful as you.”

“You’re the sweetest and I love it! Even if I can’t eat it this time.”

Tendou laughs and pulls you against him more tightly. He gives you another sweet kiss.

“I love you my miracle boy.”

“I love you more my paradise.”

#satori tendou #tendou satori #tendou #satori tendo #hq tendou #haikyuu!!#haikyu #tendou fluff

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jamielea81 · 5 years

Text

Conversations

Chapter 5

Description: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Cursing and drinking.

Word Count: 5,200

A/N: See note at the end of the chapter. Italics are internal thoughts.

Catch up with Chapter 4

The Minneapolis-St. Paul International airport was packed for your five o’clock flight on the twenty seventh. Apparently, everyone else was also saying goodbye to the Christmas holiday besides yourself. Vacation time is always great, but you had a story due on December twenty ninth that really needed to be finished. Technically, the article could have been written while staying in the frozen tundra that you once called home. The assignment is a piece covering various places to celebrate New Year’s Eve. All the information for the story could be found online and any questions could easily be answered via phone call, but after a week with your family, you needed the peace and quiet. You had grown accustomed to living alone. Home centered you, even if it was just a rental. You also thrived in an office setting; the beat of the busy newsroom also matching the beat of your heart.

Y/N: Getting ready to board. Just wanted to say goodnight in case I crash when I get home.

Grabbing your purse and duffle bag off the floor, you joined the massive crowd waiting to board the plane. This was the part of travel that gave you anxiety. The takeoff, landing, and overall length of a flight never bothered you. Nope, it was the crowd that stood directly in front of the gate. As if being on the plane longer than need be and stuffed next to two other people was enjoyable. But because everyone else stood around the gate, your anxiety made you join them.

After twenty minutes of waiting for boarding sections to be called, why they even had family boarding on a flight to Orlando was beyond you, you were seated somewhat comfortably in your window seat. The flight was full, so you did have two seat mates. Sisters from what you could tell with the bickering. The one in the middle seat explained they retired to Florida but made the trip home to see their brother for Christmas. So, you were right, sisters.

Chris didn’t send a text back, so you quickly typed one out before shutting it off for the flight.

Y/N: There are rumors that the flight has a wealthy oil baron on it. I’m pretty sure I am seated next to him. If you don’t hear from me, you know why.

You made it through the flight easy enough. All the seats were equipped with monitors loaded with various movies and television shows. Plugging in your earbuds, you settled on Toy Story 4 since you hadn’t seen it yet. After that finished, you mindlessly watched a couple of episodes of the Big Bang Theory.

As much fun as you had with your family, it was good to be home. Between the time spent at your mom’s house and then at your dad’s, plus your brother dragging you out nightly, to quote Danny Glover in Lethal Weapon, you were “getting too old for this shit.”

Walking in your house around ten that night, you were a little disappointed to see Chris hadn’t texted back. Knowing that him and Scott where in Boston to spend time with family and friends, you tried not to let it bother you too much. You were exhausted anyway. A long hot shower and your bed sounded like the ultimate plan. Emptying your suitcase into the washer could wait until tomorrow.

With a one load of clothes in the washer, a second in the dryer, and your article half done, you were feeling pretty proud of yourself. You even woke up before your alarm this morning. Maybe a trip back home was all you needed for a boost. Usually post vacation, you needed another vacation to cope with life.

Your phone vibrated on your desk indicating you had a message. Picking it up, you saw it was Chris, so you swiped the message open.

Chris: Oil barons are so overrated. You better be home in Orlando.

You smirked at his response.

Chris: I was out late last night. Hope you had a good trip home sweetheart.

Y/N: I’m sorry, me and Spencer (the oil baron) are picking out rings. Can I call you later?

Chris: OK smartass. Don’t make me fly out there.

Oh boy, did you wish he would deliver on that threat. In actuality, you had only spent five, maybe ten minutes at the most with Chris. And even though you’ve spent hours upon hours over the last couple of months talking to him on the phone and through text messaging, you were really hoping for some in person time.

Y/N: Oh no, the baron wouldn’t like that. I might though.

You bit your lip as soon as you hit send. While Chris flirted with you often, it was rare for you to come back with a comment of your own. When a few minutes had passed without a response, you got back to work on your article. Hours later and he still hadn’t responded, you worried that maybe you had taken the game to far. You knew your comment was totally innocent, but you couldn’t help but worry. You overthink everything, that’s just who you are.

Ugh! Why am I like this?

It wasn’t until the next day when you received a response from Chris where he completely ignored what you said.

Chris: Can you tell Scott that purple pants is not a good look.

Yep, you were not going to attempt to flirt again. You would leave all the flirting to him.

Y/N: I need context here.

Chris: For New Years Eve. He’s wearing purple pants.

Y/N: I stan Scott Evans. You can’t change my mind.

Chris: 😂

Chris: You do you sweetheart

The end of 2019 was here and it was a year you were happy with. You didn’t make any bad haircut decisions. All your potted plants were still alive. You had written a few articles you were very proud of. You spent time with family. You made some new friends. Overall, it was a year that you had no regrets in. You only hoped 2020 would be the same.

After finishing up at the office a little earlier than usual, you joined a group of your co-workers for a long dinner, opting not to join them bar hoping as the night went on. You were keeping your word on that whole not drinking for quite some time promise you made to yourself. Well, at least not hard alcohol. Wine doesn’t count.

By eight you were home and already in your pajamas. Brooks and Jana always went to Brooks’ brother’s house on New Year’s Eve. It was their tradition. The last few years they had invited you to come along, but you had always declined. It was their family thing and even though you loved Brooks like a brother, it felt like an intrusion to join them.

Even though Christmas was over last week, you had a pile of Hallmark Christmas movies you had stored on your DVR that you needed to get through. Write Before Christmas was the first on your list. The movie starred Chad Michael Murray who you had a crush on since his One Tree Hill days. DVR was really the way to go. Being able to fast forward through commercials meant you could get in almost three movies before midnight.

After you had thoroughly swooned over Chad, you moved on to Holiday Date. It was the whole fake dating plot with a predictable outcome, but it was cute so far nonetheless.

You hit pause because your phone was buzzing out of control. You could see from the preview screen that you had six messages from Scott.

Scott: Happy New Year!

Scott: Hope you’re out finding someone to kiss at midnight

Scott: You better be out

Followed by a picture of Scott and his boyfriend embracing. A picture of a few women standing on top of a bar pouring shots directly from bottles into the mouths of who you assumed were some of Scott’s friends. And a group shot of about ten that included Chris. The were all sitting in in chairs in front of a few tables, a few people crouched down in front and a pretty blonde sitting on Chris’ lap. So, there’s that.

“You can’t get jealous about someone who isn’t yours,” you said to yourself.

It was the truth. And you had no idea who she was. How many sisters did the boys have? You looked at the picture again, deciding for sure she wasn’t a sister. Not in the way she was sitting nor the way he was holding her.

Sighing out loud, you set the phone down on the cushion next to you. You moved from your comfy place on the couch, stomping your feet until you noticed you were doing so. You steady yourself and then walked calmly into the kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of rosé from your refrigerator, you uncorked it and filled your large wine glass to the rim.

It’s New Year’s, I’m allowed a glass of wine. A large glass of wine.

You made your way back to your couch, inhaling a couple of large gulps before hitting the play button on the remote. Deciding you needed to formulate an appropriate response to Scott rather than saying something stupid, you delved back into the romance on the screen. Or at least you tried to.

When a half hour had passed, you picked up your phone, typing out a normal response to Scott. Normal meaning how a person who was not in any sort of relationship with Chris Evans should respond. Because you weren’t. In fact, you hoped he got laid. Well, maybe not that.

Y/N: Happy New Year!

Y/N: You and Zach look so cute! Have a great night.

There. That’s how a normal person who wasn’t living in a fantasy land would respond.

Your second movie ended but you honestly weren’t paying all that much attention. Rather than starting up a third movie, you switched it to cable, finding Ryan Seacrest hosting the annual countdown show.

Finishing your wine shortly before midnight, you washed out the glass and set it in the rack to dry. You found your way back to your couch, laying down to watch the ball drop. You fired off a text to Jana to tell her you loved her as that was your traditional greeting to each other. She sent one back almost right away asking for the two of you to get lunch on Friday. The ball dropped to a chorus of cheers followed by a rendition of Auld Lang Syne by the New York City crowd. The after show played on and you fell asleep while a band you hadn’t heard of played in the background.

In the too early hours of the morning, you woke from your place on the couch, neck aching from the odd angle you slept in. Deciding to leave your phone where it was, you crawled in to bed with no plans of waking any time soon.

Of course, you couldn’t sleep forever. You had to eat at some point as evident from your stomach loudly growling around eleven in the morning.

After eating, then showering, and getting dressed for the day, you finally took a peek at your phone. Nothing from Chris. Which is whatever because you didn’t reach out to him either. But of course, there was a message from Scott from around three in the morning.

Scott: How you doin’?

You could totally hear him saying it in a Joey Tribbiani accent.

Scott: Earth to Sassy

You typed out a reply, but you doubted he was out of bed if he was texting you so late.

Y/N: Sassy was sleeping, you late night partier you

Deciding that you didn’t want to be rude, you sent Chris a text. It was New Years after all, so it was only polite. Hopefully he was awake. And alone. No. That was none of your business. Keeping it simple was the way to go.

Y/N: Happy New Year

Almost immediately, Chris responded back.

Chris: Happy New Year

And that was it. He was probably hungover...or occupied.

Friday found you at Champs for lunch with Jana. The two of you chatting about New Year’s Eve. Brooks’ brother and wife had a little boy almost a year ago, so the party was a little different than it had been in previous years. This apparently ignited a fatherhood desire for Brooks over the last couple of days.

“And I want to have a little one too, but I’m so close to making partner. It’s just not the right time,” Jana sighed out.

You reached across the table grabbing her hand, rubbing it soothingly. “When it’s right, it’s right,” you replied.

She nodded her head, giving your hand a squeeze before pulling it away. “The thing is, I don’t know if I’ll be any less busy after I make partner. I kind of wish we would have started a family right after we got married. Coulda, shoulda, I guess.”

“Is there ever a right time though?” you asked. “Then there’s me who hasn’t dated in how long?” You let out a chuckle, quickly sticking a chicken finger in your mouth. You really didn’t want the sympathy, you’re not even sure why you said it.

“Whose fault is that? I don’t see you putting yourself out there. Oh! Maybe you should ask Chris out,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Dude. No,” you replied. “Number one, we don’t live in the same state. The same region even. Number two, he’s so not interested. If he were, he probably would have made something happen. Number three, he barely knows me. Number four, he’s him and I’m me.”

Jana put her hand over your mouth, giving you a warning glare. When she didn’t immediately remove it, you licked it, causing her to cringe and grab a napkin to wipe the spot you licked. You chuckled quietly to yourself.

“You’re a brat. Do you know that?” she questioned. “But you’re also amazing and I don’t want to hear anything different. If not Chris, just put yourself out there. It’s a start of a brand new year. Make some changes.”

Numbly, you nodded your head. Maybe you had been hiding away, in a way. It wasn’t like you were staying home all the time. You went out. Sometimes. Okay fine. When you weren’t working or out with your married couple friends, you mostly kept to the office and your house. You’d think about adding something more social to your schedule.

January dragged on as it usually did. You definitely were enjoying the cooler and sometimes cold temperatures, making use of the new sweaters you purchased around Christmas. Your relationship with Chris had started to fizzle. It was subtle at first. Texts not being responded to for hours. Phone calls not being answered from time to time. Okay, that one wasn’t a big deal. But most of those phone calls weren’t being returned. A lot less sweethearts being tossed your way. It was different. And because you had developed feelings or the at the very least, a crush on Chris, you were feeling down about it. Scott was still in your life and it felt like he would always be. Maybe it was safer that way. Maybe being close with both of the brothers would ruin the other friendship in the end. Especially if feelings weren’t returned.

It was near the end of January when you brought it up to Scott. You weren’t looking for drama or attention, so you just casually mentioned over the phone when he brought up Chris that you hadn’t been hearing from Chris quite as often.

“Did Chris tell you what he bought Shanna?” Scott chuckles out.

“No, he didn’t,” you said and then took a breath. “Actually, I haven’t really been hearing from Chris a whole lot lately.”

You hear Scott blow out a breath and then you hear him groan. “He does that sometimes. I’m sorry,” Scott sighs.

“Why are you sorry? Don’t be sorry. It’s fine. It’s totally fine. As long as we’re good,” you stifled out.

“Of course, you and I are good. Not even a question Sassy.”

The nickname instantly putting you at ease.

“Good.” You bit at your lip, wondering if you should push further. Why not, might as well make this a one and done conversation. “What did you mean by, he does this sometimes?” you asked.

“When he’s with someone, he kind of just gets wrapped up in that person. He’ll eventually gets better at talking to the outside world, it just takes him awhile.”

Welp. There it is. So, at least you can give up on this little crush. Definitely not feelings. Just a crush and you would be over it by tomorrow.

“Oh!” you exclaimed.

Get. It. Together.

“I didn’t know he was seeing anyone,” you said in a much calmer voice.

“Yeah…It’s with Courtney. And you have no idea who Courtney is, sorry. They’ve dated a bunch of times of the years. Just can never seem to make it work. She’s great and everyone loves her, they just never seem to work. And you better not tell him I told you that,” he warned.

“Geez, calm down Grumpy. Like I said, we aren’t exactly talking these days and I’m not exactly going to bring up a girlfriend I don’t know,” you replied.

Scott chuckled. “There’s the Sassy I know. Anyway, it’s still new again. They started to hangout right around Christmas.”

“Oh, is she that girl on his lap from the pictures you sent me on New Year’s?” you asked.

“Yeah, she was there that night. Long blonde hair?”

“Yep,” you replied.

“That would be Courtney. I wouldn’t worry, it won’t last. I mean, I want the best for him and if it’s her, the more power to them.”

Now you were confused.

“Wh-why would I worry?” you said and then promptly cleared your throat.

“Come on Y/N, it’s not hard to tell that you maybe have teeny-tiny crush on my brother. A little bit. Come on. Tell me I’m wrong,” he teased.

He couldn’t see you, but you were giving him the best bitch face you could muster. “Shuddup.”

It was a week a way from Valentines Day. Even though you were single for it again this year, you were never one of those people who hated the holiday. If you were with someone and the two of you decided to make the day special, great. If not, that was fine too. When your co-workers got flowers delivered to their desk, you always thought it was sweet. Brooks always went over the top for all holidays and you loved hearing about the special thing he did for Jana. What you didn’t love was your father calling you to wish you a happy Valentines Day that was really just a phone call prying into your relationship status. You loved your dad, you really did, you just wished he wouldn’t get on your case as much as he did.

You were up earlier than normal. Being the great friend that you were, you were bringing Jana breakfast since she was apparently going into the office earlier and earlier, surviving only on coffee. You stopped at your favorite coffee house, picking up two coffees, two apple cinnamon muffins, and a small bowl of oatmeal for Jana. You figured she could have the oatmeal now and snack on the muffin later.

Because she wasn’t pissed at you for any reason, she was already in the lobby, ready to sign you in.

“Good morning princess. I come baring gifts of a nutritional breakfast,” you greeted her after saying hello to Phil at the security desk.

“Why, thank you, bestie. Where would I be without you?” She puts her hand over her heart. The two of you were both smartasses and you often felt bad for Brooks.

You pass her the tray of coffees and wave your goodbye to Phil with your now free hand.

Jana’s apparently hungry as she scarfs down the oatmeal, only stopping to thank you for adding cinnamon for her. You’re still picking at your muffin because you ate a bowl of cereal before leaving your house. If you’re up early, your body wants to eat right away. Waiting was not an option.

“So, what does Brooks have planned for next week?” you asked.

“You know he doesn’t tell me. I’d bet money that you know and are just messing with me.” She smirks at you before picking up her own muffin, peeling back the wrapper.

Honestly, you don’t know. Brooks knows you well enough to know that you will squeal, especially if it’s something good.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” you tease.

She sits up straight in her seat. “You know?! Tell me!”

You start to chuckle and shake your head. “I swear on your Chanel bag I don’t know. Just messing with you.”

After your short chat, Jana kicks you out of her office. The firm’s decision on who was making partner was going to be announced in a matter of days, so everyone was putting more time in. You checked your phone for any e-mails from the paper while you waited for the elevator. There were only two so far, just a couple of assignments for the week.

“Good morning, Y/N. What brings you here so early?” Ethan asks, bumping your shoulder slightly as he comes to stand next to you at the elevator. He’s dressed in another impeccable suit. Hair styled perfectly.

“Brought Jana a little breakfast. How are you Ethan?” you asked.

The elevator opens and a few people shuffle out. Ethan holds the elevator door for you to enter, and surprisingly he gets in. You press the button for the lobby, but he doesn’t push a button for any floor.

“I’m great. It’s going to be going to be a great week.”

He’s so sure of himself, but you can’t even fault him because he’s always so nice with a smile always present on his face. Jana’s said that he’s a bit of a know it all, but he’s a hard worker too.

The elevator doors open, the two of you walking out with Ethan walking next to you. He walks a little ahead, grabbing the door for you.

“Thank you,” you muttered as the two of you start to make your way across the parking lot.

“So, Y/N, are you seeing anyone?” he asked.

You stop in your tracks, right in the path of cars circling the lot. Deciding that’s not safe, you walk to an empty parking spot, Ethan trailing behind. The fact that he’d ask such a question surprises, but at the same time, it’s Ethan, you’re surprised he hasn’t asked sooner.

“I put the siiiiing in single,” you kind of speak and sing at the same time. Ethan in turn stares at you blankly. Apparently, he’s not a fan of Lizzo. “Ethan, we need to get you listening to popular music. I’m single.”

He gets the biggest grin on his face. Your cross your arms across your chest and lean on one leg, slightly amused. You know what’s coming, but you don’t want him to be so sure of your answer.

“Can I take you out sometime?” he asks, forest green eyes looking directly into yours.

You let him wait for your answer. Ethan is nice enough, he’s also easy on the eyes, and your dating life has also been lacking for quite some time. You’re actually slightly surprised it’s taken him this long to ask. Chewing on your bottom lip to really sell your indecision, he finally starts to squirm. He starts to brush his fingers through his perfectly jelled hair and you almost feel bad. A smile starts to form on your face and he instantly drops his hand, realizing what he was doing.

“I’d like that. Just not on Valentines Day. Not for a first date,” you tell him.

“Okay. Not on Valentines Day. Great. Okay,” he replies.

He’s such a dork, but it’s sweet. Ethan just stands there grinning at you and you’re really itching to get in your car rather than standing in a parking lot of a law firm.

“Give me your phone, I’ll put my number in it so you can call me,” you tell him.

Ethan passes you his phone, smile still bright on his face. You shake your head slightly but smile back, entering your number and passing him back the phone.

“I’ll call you,” he said.

“I look forward to it,” you reply, instantly cringing at your words.

I look forward to it? Who’s the dork now?

You offer him a slight wave before turning around and walking to your car. You’re kind of excited for the first time in a while. Getting in your car, you fire off a text to Jana.

Y/N: Ethan finally asked me out.

Jana: Oh, great. I’m going to have to see him even more now?

You chuckle at her response. You know she’s half teasing, but what a brat.

Y/N: You assume I said yes?

Y/N: OK, I said yes. But calm down, it’s one date. No one said anything about double dating.

Ethan waited two days before texting you. He asked to take you to dinner on Wednesday, which was two days before Valentines Day, so you said yes. The restaurant he chose was on the higher end, so wearing jeans was out of the question. Jana called you before you had the chance to call her. She was screaming in your ear and you could barely make out what she was saying.

“What? But say it slower with less yelling,” you said to her screeching.

“She made partner,” you hear Brooks shouting from the background.

“I made partner!” she yells, in a much lower tone than before.

“Oh my god, this is amazing! I knew you’d get it!”

“I can finally get some sleep,” she sighs out.

You know she’s exhausted, but all you want to do is go out and celebrate.

“Drinks tomorrow then?” you ask.

“Yeah. Yeah. But like, let’s go early,” she replied.

You chuckle at her response. “Early it is. I have news for your too. Ethan’s taking me to The Capital Grille on Wednesday.”

“Oh, fancy. Makes sense though since the two of us made partner,” she said.

“What?! I didn’t know that was even a thing.”

“Yeah, it happens. Rarely though. They couldn’t decide, so we both got it,” she said.

“Well, you get some rest, and call me tomorrow, love.”

“I will. Bye Y/N.”

You texted Scott a day later to tell him about your date. He told you he was excited for you and glad you had said yes. You laughed at the excited part because while you had been in a dry spell, it hadn’t been that long. Maybe six months. Maybe you should be more excited. Once you assigned a number to it, it sounded bad.

Scott asked if you’d heard from Chris. You had, but it was four days earlier. It was just a text saying hi, asking how I’ve been, but then the conversation fizzled out. That seemed to be the new norm in your relationship. A text every four days or five days. He had a girlfriend; he probably shouldn’t be talking to another girl daily and calling her sweetheart. You wouldn’t like that if it were the other way around.

Two days before your date, you sent Scott three pictures of dresses you were deciding between for your date with Ethan. He called you a few minutes later, wanting to go over your options.

“So, what kind of place is this?”

“It’s an expensive steakhouse in Orlando,” you replied.

“Okay, then option two is out. That’s way too casual. You should probably just throw it away. I don’t want to see that dress again.”

“Scott! Jerk. Leave my dress alone. It’s not that bad,” you complain.

“Want my help or not?”

“Fine. But I’m not throwing it out. I wear that to work a lot,” you replied.

“My point exactly. You don’t wear a work dress on a date Sassy.” Scott said.

“You takin’ to Sassy?” Chris says in the background.

Shit. He’s with Chris?

You’re not sure why you don’t want Chris to know about your date. You feel weird about him being there while this conversation is taking place.

“What about the first dress. The black one?”

It’s your attempt to move the conversation along. The sooner you get off the phone, the better.

“How slutty do you want to be on this date?” Scott asks.

Instantly you cringe, slapping your free hand against your forehead.

“Scoooott,” you whine.

“Slutty?” you hear Chris ask.

Jesus.

“It’s an honest question. Like a little slutty or a lot slutty?” Scott asked.

“Give me the phone,” Chris said. You hear Scott object in the background, but it’s too late, Chris has the phone. “What is Scott goin’ on about? You got a date or somethin’ sweetheart?”

There’s that nickname again and damnit if you stomach doesn’t flip. You really hoped you were over that.

“Yeah. Yeah, I have a date,” you practically whisper out.

“And you didn’t tell me?” he asked.

A part of you thinks he’s joking or teasing, but his tone isn’t coming off that way and it’s rubbing you the wrong way.

“Tell you?” you question.

“Well, yeah. You tell Scott all about it, but don’t mention it to me,” he replied.

“Chris, you and I haven’t been exactly talking a whole lot lately. When would I have told you?”

He scoffs at your response. “We talk.”

You’re shaking your head but he can’t see you which is annoying.

“Besides, you didn’t tell me you were seeing someone, let a lone had a girlfriend,” you replied.

There. You said it. It was none of your business, but you didn’t like this whole conversation and the attitude that was coming with it.

You hear breathing from his end but apparently the cat had caught his tongue because he wasn’t responding.

“I gotta go,” you said.

“Y/N, wait,” you hear him say, but your pushing the end call button before you can even stop yourself.

This was not a conversation you wanted to have. You were simply seeking a guy’s opinion on what to wear for a date. Your first in six freaking months and Chris who barely speaks to you needs to complain about not knowing about said date. You groaned out loud, picking up the work dress and sticking it back in your closest. Sending pictures of the two remaining dresses to Jana to make the final decision, you walked into your kitchen, opting for tea rather than wine.

You phone buzzed while the water simmered in the pot.

Scott: Hey, it’s Scott. I’ll call you later.

Scott was your friend. You just hoped that if your friendship with Chris was over, it wouldn’t cause any drama or stress for Scott.

Chapter 6

A/N: If you’ve read any of my past stories, you will know that I love a happy ending. Please don’t worry. I will fix this. I want this to be as realistic as it can be, so I don’t believe that Chris would put his life on hold for someone he has a phone relationship with. But have faith and know I love you all.

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vintagemiserie · 5 years

Text

ok rocketman was so good that i just wrote 1200 words of jazz au becuz of it lmao

Patrick took a deep breath, wiped the tears from his eyes, and pressed the "record" button on the tape deck, hoping its batteries wouldn’t die part of the way through. "Hey, Joe. Sorry you probably haven't heard this from me yet. I dunno how soon I'll be back, but you've probably seen me, uh, um, in a fucking institution if you've seen me at all. You already know about this, but you haven't heard from me, so that's what… what this is doing, that's what.

"I'm currently sitting on the floor in a stall in the bathroom of a library in Austin. I did cocaine for the first time in years today, and I drove and crashed a car today, and I'm sitting here because I'm hiding from Andy, who's probably called you at the same time that I recorded this, or… or the rest of the band, too, I guess. I'm probably gonna get tried for something, and the headlines are probably going to look terrible, and I'm—I'm sorry, Joe, I'm sorry, but you need to hear this from me and I could barely hit the buttons on this stupid fucking tape deck, so calling you is completely out of the question.

"Let's see… oh, I missed coke. I forgot how great it made me feel. I forgot how to do a show, really, and—god, I'm absolutely fucking crashing right now." Patrick made an explosion motion with his hands, and accompanied it with sound effects. He chuckled, which quickly turned back into crying, as he had been before he arrived to the library. "Down on the floor of a fucking bathroom, Joe, that's how down I am. I'm crashing, I've got whiplash like hell, and—I'm fine. I feel great, like I'm fucking alive.

"Andy has ought to bet that I regret this, but: you know what, I don't. I absolutely don't. I might when I'm in group therapy in a couple weeks, but right now I'm on top of the world. The only thing that'd be better would be another couple drinks, Joe, but I'm not trying to get caught out in the open like that. Which is why I'm here in a stupid fucking bathroom, telling you all of this. Consider it an open diary, yeah? I get to vent it all out, and you get to listen."

Patrick sat there, realizing he'd been speaking perhaps a bit too loud. He caught his breath, not realizing how much he'd been struggling with it, and he settled his head against his knees. "I'm going fucking crazy, Joe," He said, feeling a million times lower than moments before. "I should've drank more before I crashed that stupid ass car—coke sucks, man, it's too short of a high. I'm fucking angry."

He considered that, perhaps, Joe would be a bit concerned at this point, in that way that tugged on his heartstrings in the worst possible way, that made him feel angry for getting pity. "Don't apologize about this, Joe. I already know everything you'll say about this, and I know you'll pity the sorry sack of shit you call a boyfriend. Don't even… don't mention any of this to me. I'm hoping I've got enough of a buzz to not remember this, not remember—" A bout of some brand of emotions sent Patrick to slam a fist against the wall. "Not remember sitting here on the floor of a stupid bathroom!

"Thing's'll be fine. It'll be fine. Joe, I—trust me, it'll be fine. I just stepped back on years of rehab, but it'll be fine. I'm gonna go out and let myself get found, and it'll all be fine. You've gotta be feeling okay now, baby, okay? I want, more than anything, for you to be kissing me right now, and you've gotta know I miss you. I miss you. Stupid fucking tour, it's over now, and it's my fucking fault. I need to be gone for a while, I'm pushed too thin, I'm sorry.

"I guess you'll see me a lot soon. Andy's gonna have me institutionalized for a while, I know he will. I…" The door into the bathroom opened. "Shit, I can't—bye." He ended the recording, picked up the tape deck, and stood up. A deep breath took care of a majority of the shakiness in his limbs, and out of the stall revealed that, indeed, it was Andy.

"Well?"

"I wanna go to the post office and then go home," Patrick said. His attempts at looking anywhere besides the ground immediately in front of him failed. "Need to send a tape to Joe."

Andy stepped up to him. "I'll send it for you," He said, setting a hand on the tape deck; Patrick jerked it away.

"No you're not! You'd listen to it. You always do that shit, you're not putting a fucking hand on this tape."

Andy sighed. "You're impossible," He said. He sounded so calm, it was more than irritating.

"I'm not impossible, you're just an asshole who can't fucking listen! I don't wanna—Andy, please I can't—" Though he had continued crying throughout the recording and into the conversation, it was only at that point that Patrick began to sob. He spent a moment standing there like an idiot, crying his eyes out, then regained some sense of dignity and managed to at least stop sobbing so loudly. "Drive me to a fucking post office, I need… I need a package and a stamp or two or whatever. Who's, um, who's dealing with the legal aspect—not me, right?"

"You're getting a couple hospital visits before you should even be thinking about that, Patrick." Andy put an arm around him and guided him out of the library. Outside, a majority of the band was standing there, gawking at the stupid kid holding his stupid tape deck. "Try to go a fucking month without another relapse, Patrick. Try, for once," Andy muttered towards him.

He tried his best to block out Andy, and the rest of the noise around himself. "Does anyone have a package and some stamps, I need to send this cassette to Joe," He said, forcing himself to look around at his bandmates. Even those who seemed the most empathetic seemed to be hesitating. "Please? I—this is important."

An alto, one of the touring members, offered a drive, and Patrick took it. It was wordless, and so outrageously long that the ten minutes all blended together into feeling short, anyways. They got an envelope and some stamps and sent the cassette tape off. Then they returned to the hotel they were staying at.

"I'm not gonna force you to go to the hospital," Andy said; Patrick was in his room, now, and the clock said it was nearly four in the morning. Time wasn't really being kept track of at that point, though, since Patrick took the rest of the cocaine he'd been given and spent the half-hour (or so) of glee lying in bed writing out melodies.

"That's a lie."

"No it's not. We both know the right decision, and you'll make the right decision."

Patrick tried his best to find a clever thing to retort with. "What if I didn't?"

"What did you put on that tape."

"Nothing you need to worry about. Joe'll know, my therapist'll know, and that's it, 'cause I sure as hell won't remember what I said."

Andy looked at him with what seemed to be nearly a glare. "I don't know why I put up with you, Patrick. Would you prefer a flight home tomorrow or in two days?"

"Tomorrow, please."

Andy turned from him, seeming to dislike the bored tone Patrick used. "Goodnight," He said, shutting the door of Patrick's hotel room behind himself before Patrick had even a chance to respond.

#there arent any spoilers for the movie i just stole the general uhhhh driving conflict #n also cuz sometimes i need to write some angst u kno?

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douxbebearchives · 7 years

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Author Profile: IWrite4Olitz

Stories on FFN; tumblr: @iwrite4olitz

Your name/nickname/alias:

Lynn, iwrite4olitz

How long have you been writing?

Is “forever” too vague? Since I could properly grip a pencil...

How long have you been writing Olitz?

Since July 10th, 2015.

What drew you to Olivia & Fitz?

Their combustible chemistry. Is there any other reason?

Outside of Olitz, where do you get inspiration to write?

Everywhere. Anywhere. But my favorite inspiration comes from music. If I get stuck, I read a book. ;)

How do you describe your style of writing?

::hyperventilates:: I...don’t have one compact sentence to describe it. I suppose it’s because I choose words and sentence structure to suit whatever tone I’m trying to convey, while also considering the “voice” of the character whose point of view I’m writing. So, for example, if I’m writing something romantic, I use more flowing sentences, but choose words that I think the character whose head we’re in would actually use. If I’m trying to convey something tense or urgent, I’ll use more concise, clipped language and structure. If I need to drive an emotion home, or incite a reaction of some kind, I choose visceral language. Ugh, this sounds so clinical! But I promise it’s not. It just happens naturally. I’ve been called “poetic” and “evocative” by readers. I’ve also taken this super fun quiz:

https://iwl.me/

...the results of which told me I write like Stephen King, which contradicts the poetic thing. Haha. Love Stephen though. Do you guys follow him on twitter? Follow him. He’s one of my best friends in my head. And he’s woke.

Do you write (journal, pen/paper) or type first? Depends. If I have it clear in my mind how a scene should go, I type until my brain is empty. Then I edit until it’s as close to my mental picture as possible. If it’s not clear in my mind, my brain automatically goes on high alert, snatching inspiration from anywhere, at any time. That’s when I scribble things in notebooks or type notes into a document to piece together later. Dialogue, action, events, settings...

Do you have a special notebook or writing utensil?

I have several notebooks, Evernote, and Baby (my touch screen computer). But I plan on replacing her with a Mac soon, because she’s prone to viruses and my tech medical bills have been piling up!

Do you incorporate visuals, music, and/or poetry to help you get into the writing mood?

Yes! Music is the most powerful inspiration for me. I can get several scenes, or a chapter, or an idea for an entire story from one song. I love creating inspiration boards to visualize big scenes more vividly (and sharing them is fun). I don’t read much poetry, sadly. I have a book of famous love letters and poetry collecting dust on my bookshelf if anyone’s interested. It’s red, vintage-looking, really pretty...

Do you use mood boards/aesthetics/Pinterest?

Yes! Here’s the one for Pas De Deux: https://www.pinterest.com/AuthorLynnTurner/pas-de-deux/

Favorite kind of music or podcasts to listen to before/while you write?

I don’t listen to podcasts as part of my process. I find them too distracting. My taste in music is all over the place. I have the same affinity for jazz or soul that I have for pop or indie. That’s not very helpful, I suppose, but it just boils down to whatever moves or inspires me. Would you believe that Pia Mia’s “Do It Again” inspired the one-shot that became No Regrets? She was a 19 year old youtube sensation at the time, and it was her summer smash hit (possibly her only hit) about a one night stand. Hey, I’m not proud. “Locked Away” featuring Maroon 5 inspired the gala scene at the end of that story. “Garden” by Emeli Sande played as I wrote the garden love scene in Pas De Deux, and “Dreamland” by Emilia Ali was playing when I wrote the scene that opens PDD Chapter 10. :-)

Where do you like to write (Home, coffee shop, etc.)?

I prefer to write in isolation. I love cafes, but I tend to spend my time there doing research, or outlining, or creating inspiration boards. At home, I tend to write very early in the morning or late at night when everyone’s asleep...or during “me time” when certain tiny humans aren’t around to tug at my proverbial coat tails. If I have my headphones, I can pretty much write anywhere.

How long does it take you to write a chapter?

Oh gosh...Okay, in a vacuum, with a chapter fully formed in my mind, tons of coffee and wine coolers, I can crank one out in a single day. Outside of that vacuum, it could take anywhere from a few days to a few weeks. There are so many variables: mood, inspiration, time. I’m trying to be better at forming good writing habits. John Grisham says if you aren’t writing at least a page per day, you’re not writing a book. Stephen King writes 600 words a day. Stephen King is not human.

A favorite line or paragraph you’ve written.

This changes all the time, and I have different ones for each work, haha. By the time anyone reads this, it likely will have changed again. (There are some things I’ve written for the next Pas De Deux update that might upstage this, I dunno)...but I think this paragraph from Olivia’s point of view in Chapter 9 is my current favorite, It shows their dynamic so well, I think, and is quintessentially the Olitz I recognize no matter the writer, or whether the story is AU or canon:

She shivered, unnerved to be in his head, to see for herself the irrefutable evidence that he knew her. He knew her and she hadn’t told him a single thing.

Describe yourself in 5 words/phrases:

You could give me 24 hours and the fate of the universe on my shoulders and I still couldn’t do this, hahaha. In a perfect world, my self is constantly evolving, so how about, in keeping with the theme of fifths, I choose something in iambic pentameter?

“Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.” -Dr. Suess

Favorite TV shows/movies:

This question is a rabbit hole. You’d need a “read more” button, and once clicked, readers would be subjected to pages and pages...so I’ll just list the ones I’d grab in case of a fire, or the apocalypse.

TV: Gilmore Girls, House, Girlfriends, A Different World, Living Single, the travelogue adventures of Samantha Brown and Anthony Bourdain, Sense8, Queen Sugar, Greenleaf, Underground, House Hunters, House of Cards, Orange is the New Black

Movies I can watch repeatedly and not get bored: Pride and Prejudice, The Devil Wears Prada, Focus, Pretty Woman, Love Jones, Ever After, The Wedding Date, Trainwreck

Movies with romantic elements: The Proposal, Trainwreck, Maid in Manhattan, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days, Something New, Serendipity, While You Were Sleeping, Maid in Manhattan, The Proposal, Miss Congeniality, The Cutting Edge, A Walk in the Clouds, Return to Me, How Stella Got Her Groove Back, Under the Tuscan Sun, Love Story, Beyond the Lights, Circle of Friends, Belle, Closer, Stompin at the Savoy, Memoirs of a Geisha, Dangerous Beauty, Cinderella (the one where Whitney Houston plays the fairy godmother), Coming to America, Juno, You Me & Dupri, Parent Trap, Overboard, Braveheart, The Preacher’s Wife, Palm Trees in the Snow

Favorite vacation spot:

Hawaii

Favorite books:

You’d think that, since my movie list is a rabbit hole, my book list would be a labyrinth, but even with all of the books I’ve read, I’m selective about what makes my favorites list:

Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen, The Hating Game by Sally Thorne, Grin and Beard It by Penny Reid, Literally every book by Penny Reid, Hadassah: One Night With the King by Tommy Teney, The Twentieth Wife & The Feast of Roses by Indu Sundaresan, The Nonesuch by Georgette Heyer, Wildseed & Lilith’s Brood by Octavia Butler, The Twilight Series by Stephenie Meyer (YES, okay? It’s not literary genius but it’s very entertaining, if you skip book two), Perfume: The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Suskind, Master of the Game by Sidney, Sheldon, Psy-Changeling series by Nalini Singh

*With the advent of fanfiction, I’m much pickier about published books, which I’m sure you all understand. ;)

Favorite authors:

I have a to-read list half a mile long, so I’m sure this will change, but these are authors whom I find consistently write entertaining stories, even if they don’t make my favorites list:

Penny Reid, Alyssa Cole, Alisha Rai, Nalini Singh, Philippa Gregory, Farrah Rochon, Stephen King, John Grisham, Octavia Butler

What do you like better? AU or Canon?

I enjoy both, so long as they’re written well. Writing-wise, I’m more comfortable writing AU. With canon, I’m constantly aware that these aren’t my characters, so I’m sort of hyper aware of the constraints. And I have control issues. Lol.

Favorite trope/scenario to read?

Enemies to lovers, love at first sight

Favorite Olitz TV moment/conversation?

Seriously??? Only one? How about top three? Top five? Okay, fine, since you’re twisting my arm, I’ll give you my top ten in no particular order. (You drive a hard bargain):

1. VERMONT

2. “You almost died.” “Yes.” “Don’t do it again.” (she went in there to get him to comply, but then she actually LISTENS to him, like, really listens...and he changes her mind. They show a united front in this scene that was gorgeous to watch)

3. “I hate you.” “I know.” ...which morphed into…”You are everything and I am nothing.” ::ugly, mucous-dripping crying::

4. “Sit with me and watch me earn you.” (and obviously the AMAZING sex that came after)

5. Can the entire episode of The Trail be one?

a. “I got a guy.” “You got a guy? Another guy? Hell’s angel? Mobster? A kind hearted felon who owes you a favor?” “Technically, he’s on probation.”

b. Camp David. Allll the Camp David. They were so in love, cute and care-free.

c. Love scene from The Trail (It’s their best, IMO. Organic. Combustible. Raw.)

d. One minute on the couch

6. Pre-State Dinner shenanigans, Post-State Dinner Navy t shirt

7. Literally every Olitz phone call

8. 503 Oval Office Kiss ::swoon::

9. Truman Balcony kiss, because he was so vulnerable

10. Fitz saying “I still want you” in the AU episode, because it was so real, and I *believe they’re destined to be together in every universe.

*Honorable mentions: Rose Garden, Deskgate, Constitution (These were gripping, but I have personal, nitpicking reasons why they’re not in my top ten), allll the Season 6 bedtime snuggles, and every hug.

Anything else you’d like to share?

Ava DuVernay is my other BFF in my head.

Someday, when I’m confident enough in my knowledge of the era I choose (which will take years and years of research and development), I will write a historical fiction with a WOC heroine...possibly with elements of science fiction.

#author profile #iwrite4olitz

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rebekahsremarkable · 5 years

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The Trip

Part One: I’ve Always Been The “Safe” Girl

My cursor hovered over the “Submit” button and my body tensed as if my feet were dangling off a cliff. This website made this seem like an excellent plan. Travel alone, but with a group of other loners through beautiful countries and cities in Europe. Have the adventure of your young life. Experience the world. It sounds like a soul-searching, heart-filling, great idea, right?

I suppose I should start by telling you all the reasons this was a terrible idea. There are the obvious reasons: Sex trafficking, theft and just general safety concerns- but there is much more to lose here. As much as I love to sell this Cardi B-like independence vibe to you all, I am not as Bodak Yellow as I like to convince myself to be.

For instance, when I was 10, I begged my Mother to let me go to a sleepover hosted by a girl at school who I didn’t even know recognized my existence. I was so stoked. I had it all planned out- I was going to wear my brand-new Powerpuff Girls PJ’s and everything. Those broads weren’t even gonna know what hit ‘em. My Mother sent me off with my very fashionable Little Mermaid suitcase and I was gonna do the damn thing.

However, as soon as I got there, I had my very first anxiety attack. What the heck am I going to talk to these little young women about? And, though this is called a “sleepover”, it never truly computed with me that I was going to have to sleep here??? What’s that about?? I just sleep on the floor in a room full of chicks??? What an odd concept. What about personal space??

It is probably no surprise my Mother got me twenty minutes later. The door swung open and I ran into her arms as if I was just released from a Disney Princess themed concentration camp. She welcomed me with open arms and took me home. As I carried my suitcase back into my room back at home, I figured I’d do my mom a favor and unpack whatever she packed for me.

I unzipped the bag and was immediately confused- there was nothing in it. I stormed into the kitchen, where my Mother was washing the dishes, and DEMANDED an explanation.

“Rebecca!” I said, trying to address my Mother as adult as possible. I slammed my suitcase on the floor, the front of it swinging open to reveal my discovery. “Why was this empty?!”

My Mother dried her hands, and turned around to face me. She put her hand towel down, and smiled lovingly.

“First of all, namesake, I am Mom.” She said, sternly while simultaneously chuckling. “Second of all, I just knew you’d come home tonight, honey.”

“How did you know?” I replied, almost devastated.

“Because I know you, sweetheart.” She walked across the kitchen and picked up my bag, zipping it back up. She handed it back to me. “You’re my smart, safe girl. I just knew you’d want to come back home.” She kissed my forehead, and patted my butt to send me back to my bedroom.

I sat on my top bunk, staring at my dangling feet. At ten years old, I was having an existential crisis. It hurt that my Mother knew my next move before I did. She knew I would retreat back home, not daring to go where I have never been before.

Well, present day, I stared at the “Submit” button on the monitor of my computer. I thought about that day and pictured my Little Mermaid suitcase. I wondered- am I still that little girl who would rather go back home than build a memory that forces me to break out of my comfort zone?

Before I could mindfully answer, I felt a force press my pointed finger downward. “Your Trip Is Booked!” the screen read. “You’re going to Spain, France, And Italy!”

I raised my eyebrows, and stared in terror. “Welp.” I sighed. “I guess it’s time for a new suitcase.” I shut my laptop screen and stood, looking around my room.

“I hope I don’t regret this.” ******************************************************************************************

Part Two: Colorado

Well, for the most part, I didn’t regret it. Though Lucas had the most open, vulnerable soul I had ever encountered and in my weeks with him I had felt happier and more secure than with any man before him- something was off.

Was it me? Maybe I was asking too much. After all, there was a love affair Lucas had that could never, ever be broken- the one he had with his career. And this cruel mistress was as seductive as she was resilient. She wasn’t going anywhere. And though I was able to share- Lucas worried there wasn’t enough of him to go around.

Sex was sometimes interrupted with a business call; dinner plans were left in the cold for charity board meetings. The rain checks were stacking up- but I didn’t want to pressure him by cashing them all in. While I was turned on by the fact such an important human was into a small-time girl like myself, the lack of time and communication was leaving us both feeling insecure. Lucas, worrying if he could cater to me emotionally without compromising his career goals- and me, worrying I couldn’t be a part of his personal ones.

The night before my trip, Lucas and I lay together in the bed of his uptown apartment, with nothing filling the air but our synchronized breath and the words we couldn’t say. His body was slightly propped up by his overly fluffy pillows, while I rested my head on his lap. He ran his fingers through my slightly waved hair.

I kept my eyes closed for just a second and absorbed the moment. I could feel the city lights shine through his window onto the bed, consequently giving the perfect lighting to his tousled hair and post-coital smirk as I opened my eyes to him gazing onto me.

I moved his hand from my hair to my right cheek, I rested the weight of my thoughts into his palm.

“What’s your biggest fear?” I asked.

He let out a big sigh. Shirtless, without an ounce of hair gel and no briefcase in sight- perhaps this moment was vulnerable enough without adding personal questions to the mix.

“You first.” He moved his thumb softly up and down my cheek.

Me being me, it was easy to answer- easy for me to open up. Not just because that’s who I am, but also because of who I was talking to. “I’m scared I won’t ever feel fulfilled. I guess I’m scared that this dream that’s been sold to me since I was a kid- that there is some big love waiting for you, with a dream job and dream house- it’s all a lie. And I’m waiting for a type of happy that just doesn’t exist.”

Lucas was silent for a moment. He just looked down to me, continuing the soft movement of his thumb upon my face, non-verbally telling me that I wasn’t as crazy as I thought I was. This thumb migrated to my lips, then he bent down to kiss them.

He broke the silence, “My biggest fear is not getting where I need to be. I know what I’m destined for. I know you think it’s just about money. But I think, really, it’s a matter of legacy. It’s not a question of if I will be successful- it’s a matter of how and when. I have to change lives. Otherwise, I don’t know why I’m here.”

My body shifted into an upright position, putting my face only a pucker of lips away of his. I didn’t dare to blink. I looked into his eyes and felt my inner being thank his for sharing just a little part of himself with me. Perhaps I should have told him I supported his legacy. Perhaps I should have told him I wanted to be a witness to his greatness- through the upcoming setbacks and successes.

Instead, I kissed him as I straddled his waist. His hands cradled my head by the feminine chisel of my chin. I raised my hips slightly so I could slide down his boxers as smoothly as possible. Our eyes opened at the same time, looking into each other, knowing what was going to happen next, but somehow at the same time- having absolutely no idea.

The next morning, I left Lucas with a kiss and a long stare. He towered over me as he hugged me goodbye- looking down at me to try to read my mind.

“You’ll be here when I get back?” I asked, knowing international travel would be sure to break apart whatever we had.

“Of course I will,” he said, with sincerity. As he held me for just a bit longer, I could feel the doubt swell so large between us that it had felt as if I was already 1,000 miles away.

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

Part Three: Madrid, Spain

Let me get one thing out of the way: I have nothing against a one night stand.

To be honest, the thought of one is extremely exciting to me. I imagine sitting at the bar alone at some fancy hotel in a major city- wearing a fitted, bright red, low cut, elegant dress drinking a glass of white wine. I lick my lips to prepare for my last sip when the bartender slides me a new, full glass- but wait! I didn’t order this!

He points to a well-built, bearded brunette man with bright blue eyes. He’s wearing a suit that accentuates his physique as he raises his glass to me for a silent toast. I call him over, and after some witty banter, I invite him to my penthouse upstairs. We tell each other our fake names, and make passionate love until the sun comes up.

I get dressed as he sleeps in. I leave a note on the pillow, granting him a late check-out and permission to order room service on me. We never see each other again.

The thing is, it never turns out that way. I’ve never felt the adrenaline-rushed type of affection for a stranger to take me right then, right there. It’s just, holding someone’s hand while they bare their soul to me gives me a bigger rush than having a 12 hour wild evening with someone I will never see again.

So, when entering my trip to Europe, there was no thought in my mind that one night with someone, one night of passion and mystery with a stranger, would ever happen.

My first order of business was to venture into Madrid, Spain. I explored the city center, filled with tapas, tall buildings, beautiful museums and even more beautiful people. I ate foods I would never dare to eat and drank my weight in sangria. The city was intoxicating.

Through a flier on a bulletin board, I discovered a local pub crawl designed to connect other solo travelers with each other.

So that evening, I walked to a group of about 30 people. I talked to a bartender from Russia, an aspiring actor from London, a single mother on holiday from Belgium, a lawyer from Canada and so many others. In a matter of minutes (and a few sangrias), we had been sharing stories, smiling, and laughing as if we had known each other for years. At one point, my social battery running low, I took a breather away from the group, walking right outside the pub and looking through the decorated glass window.

I looked onto them as if I was watching the happy ending of an ensemble-style romantic comedy. Everyone was smiling, laughing- lightly placing their hands on each other’s shoulders and leaning into the banter they’d created.

It made me question why I really decided to travel alone in the first place. Perhaps it was more than just a matter of curiosity or adventure. I mean, everyone in that pub, including myself, went out on a limb alone in the world. They did so to feel connected to something or someone else outside their comfort zone. Quite ironic, isn’t it? We ran away, alone, only to find someone else. Maybe some were meeting others in the process of finding themselves.I was just like them. Seeking connection to something in the world.

I took a deep sigh as I processed this revelation. Was this the epiphany I had traveled all this way for? I stood alone and heard a commotion pass by behind me. I turned my head back, and looked at a clique of men together, laughing and tripping over each other. When I went to turn around again and get back to my train of thought- I noticed a tall, auburn haired man looking at me with curiosity. He smiled at me, and I nervously turned around as fast as I could.

He lightly jogged across the street. “Excuse me?” He said, in his strong Spanish accent. “Um, are you lost?” He asked.

“Oh, no...” I said, trying not to gawk as his chiseled features. “I was just um, taking a breather.” I smiled.

“I see. I’m sorry- didn’t mean to bother.” He said to me, still looking at me with the same curiosity from minutes earlier. It was almost like he hadn’t blinked.

“No worries...” I chuckled. I took a step towards the entrance of the bar to make a swift exit.

“Wait!” He said, looking again for the words to say. “Where are you from?” He took his hand out of his pocket and reached out his open palm, which was politely asking me to offer my hand in return.

I stared at it for a moment, and furrowed my eyebrow in confusion before putting my right high-heeled foot in front of the other, taking his hand and walking closer to him. As soon as our fingers entangled, he smiled wide, and his slightly glazed but suddenly very bright eyes opened a bit more.

“Colorado.” I said.

“Ah, United States. Makes a little more sense.”

I titled my head, like a confused puppy.

“Well, you look Spanish, but I haven’t seen you around before. And I would have remembered your face.”

His charm quickly dissipated as I got the impression this act has been played several times before.

I turned away to go back into the bar. It wasn’t that he wasn’t good looking. My God, was he handsome. Dressed in tight and slightly tattered blue jeans as well as a tight armed, white v-neck tee, he gave the impression he was just coasting through an incredibly relaxed life.

“Guapa,” he spoke again. “Where are you going?”

“I have to go back inside,” I chuckled. “Back to my friends.”

Behind him, I heard his amigos call out asking for his return. He shouted back at them in Spanish, gesturing for them to move on. As they disappeared into the crowded Madrid street, he walked a few steps closer to me.

He pointed his finger into the bar, at the drunken strangers I was so quick to call acquaintances. “Those people? Those are your friends?” He replied, challenging me.

“Yes?” I popped up my right eyebrow.

He pointed at one person in the crowded bar in a printed collared shirt. “What is his name?”

“Uh... His name is...” I thought of the first name that came into my head. “Chad.” “Chad? His name is Chad?” He replied, sarcastically.

“Yep. Chad. I love Chad. He’s cool. From Denmark. Really cool guy.”

“You are so full of shit.” He smiled. His accent even made a curse word sound like Shakespeare. “Come. Spend the night with me.”

“Spend the night with you?” I said, offended and flabbergasted.

“Pardon, pardon, pardon....” He interrupted, suddenly worried about my change of tone. “I am... How you say... an idiot.” He chuckled. “I only meant that I want to show you Madrid tonight.”

“I’ve seen Madrid. I’ve been here a few days and-”

“No. Let me show you my Madrid.” His bright eyes again gazed into mine again.

And so my inner monologue began. I can’t just disappear into the night with a handsome stranger, right? My conscious emerged as a devil on my left shoulder, and an angel on my right. The angel on my right shoulder told me that it was completely unsafe. I had no emergency back-up plan in my back pocket. But the devil on my left shoulder was so convincing. I would always wonder what could have been with the man in Madrid. And I am always so terrified of so many things- spiders, some vegetables, styrofoam rubbing together... But by far, it’s the Could Have Beens that frighten me the most. I don’t want to daydream about this Spaniard for the rest of my life.

“Guapa,” he interrupted. He must have read my concern on my face. “Be brave.”

Be brave, he said. It felt like a message from the universe. Bravery would be new for me. My life was pretty safe. Every choice I had made up until this point was a safe one. My career, my living situation, my choice in friendships, my choice in lovers... All safe bets. I mean, that was another reason I wanted this trip. To take chances. To have experiences that one can only have if they step out of their comfort zone. A chance to be brave. Not the “smart, safe” predictable girl my Mother convinced ten-year-old me I was.

“Okay,” I said.

His eyebrows rose, expressing his excitement. “I’m Mateo.”

“Rebekah.” I said, hypnotized by the combination of his Spanish charm and the city lights.

“Rebekah,” He said, then pausing. “I want to show you something.”

As we walked to our undisclosed location, Mateo held my hand. Standing at around 6’2, Mateo looked down at me with such a sensual care. I never had a man look at me the way he did. And he spoke to me with such intention. His verbiage was all calculated- from the words themselves to their inflections.

I carefully examined every moment when I was with Mateo. The night was clear as the stars would only briefly check in above us before they disappeared behind the city lights. The road was made of stones that, I bet, could tell hundreds of stories about women just like me clicking their heels on them, meeting Spanish boys while drunk on tequila-fueled attraction. The moon was full, and extremely bright- igniting a sparkle in Mateo’s forest green eyes that forced me to want to explore them.

Every time he addressed me- whether it was a question, or just a statement about himself- he had to sneak in a cheesy compliment:

“Well, beautiful, I am studying to be a doctor.”

“I love my family, we are very close. I have lived here all my life, sweet angel, you would love living here.”

“I cannot focus on anything around you, Guapetona. I am, how you say, captivated by your beauty.”

In both English and Spanish, his words painted a picture that one could only call a masterpiece. I wondered how many of these names he had in his pocket. How many lines he had memorized and how many women he had used them on successfully.

The challenge with Mateo, as intoxicating as his presence was, was knowing what was real. It was like he was a re-imagined, cloaked version of the men I’ve been with in America: A man who is close enough to touch, but not near enough to reach. There was a wall built, but it his was disguised. His metaphorical emotional wall was transparent. It was clear enough that you could see the great beyond, but the boundary was clear and marked off territory.

We reached a tiny bar that was located in a quaint, local-filled square I had not yet explored in Madrid. Big, red umbrellas lined the boundary of the marketplace, with people sitting at tables topped with wine glasses filled to the brim with sangria. A sea of bright stringed lights were scattered into the trees to add to the overwhelming sense of belonging. I was happy just to be there. My eyes opened wide, with a big smile to match, taking in the scenery bit by bit.

Mateo stood to the right of me, with my hand still carried in his. I had made mental screenshots of the square, and I wanted to end my intentional memory with a shot of the handsome man who had whisked me away. As if he could read my mind, I felt a squeeze in my right hand. I looked down at it, to again confirm the entanglement of our fingers, and directed my eyes up to him, and reduced my starstruck grin into a grateful smirk.

He shifted his body to directly face mine, using our entangled hands to lightly tug me to lean me in closer. Taller than me, he lifted my chin with his bent pointer finger. My mouth was slightly opened now, maybe in astonishment, with my eyebrows raised enough to feel the tip of my mascara-coated eyelashes tickling my face. His eyes closed, and mine followed suit.

He kissed me with the sea of red umbrellas and sparkling lights as our witnesses. My body fully submitted to his while our lips perfectly fit into each other. My hand, gently laying on his chest, my back right foot gently perked leaning into the tips of my toes. One of his hands was now placed on the back of my head, immersed in my hair, and I could have sworn I felt a gentle pull.

Our kiss broke, and our eyes opened. For a far too brief few seconds, we looked into each others eyes, with no sound but the clinks of glasses and surrounding distant chatter.

He took a deep breath in, took a step back, and released it.

Next thing I knew, we were walking into a sunken-ship themed pub. College students sat on rounded tables made of what looked like thousand year old wood. The bar top had tons of taps with colorful themes and the bartenders were bearded and tattooed.

One of them swung around the pub, greeting us at the door. “Mateo!” He shouted, his arms wide open. They shared a brotherly hug.

They talked in Spanish for a moment as we all walked to the bar top. I couldn’t speak their language, but I knew they were close. I sat quietly and watched Mateo’s natural self emerge and enjoyed each second of it.

“Ah, Antonio, this is Rebekah.”

“Rebekah!” Antonio lightly shouted. “So great to meet you.” He nudged Mateo. “So beautiful, huh? Buen trabajo!” He laughed.

Mateo shifted slightly in his seat and grinned. “Guapa, what can my friend get for you?”

Antonio poured me a tall glass of blueberry cider- sweet and unexpected, much like the company I was in.

As Mateo and I sat together, many locals and employees stopped to talk to him. Each time, he introduced me endearingly. And each time, his friend would make a positive comment on the luckiness of Mateo being in my company. I made a point to take of note of this, as though each one recognized Mateo’s good fortune, none of them seemed surprised by it.

Soon, there was a group of us. Mateo’s friends from earlier in the night had met up with us at this point, and all of them were extremely welcoming to me. In their broken English, they had somehow told me every embarrassing story involving Mateo. Every conversation was infused with witty banter and forms of Spanish I have never heard spoken so lovingly.

What I love about the Spanish is their ability to unapologetically express their emotions. It was easy to assume that they felt things deeper than the American men I had been surrounded by all my life. Their hands were just as expressive as their words, if not more. They touched each other with care and comradery. They would hug like blood brothers, make toasts as if they were life-long pacts. It seemed impossible to have any questions off how one felt about you. You knew, because there was no agenda, no secret, no guessing game. It was just as refreshing as it was terrifying. I wondered if the intensity of their Spanish brotherhood transcended to the intensity of their romantic relationships.

I stood up and excused myself from the table and walked over to the bathroom. As I travelled to the back of the crowded Spanish pub and noticed Daniel, one of Mateo’s best mates, crossing my path back to the table. He lightly grabbed my arm, stopping me in my tracks.

“Rebekah!” Spanish men seemed to like to shout my name. “Are you having a good time?” I nodded. “You guys are really great.” I laughed.

“Gracias,” he said. “I think Mateo really enjoys you...” I smiled at his observation, flattered. “Much more than the others.”

My eyes took a hard blink, my head took aback in confusion. He patted the side of my arm, awkwardly raised his eyebrows and sipped his beer; making his way back to the others as forcefully casual as he could. “Others...” I said to myself.

After my bathroom visit, I walked back to the table, and decided to keep it cool. I suddenly felt a rush of realizations come to mind. I, Rebekah, the Queen of Commitment, the naysayer of one night stands, was on her way to a one evening conquest. One of many to my very own Spanish Dr. McDreamy.

I kept these rush of thoughts to myself as I listened to the banter between a few of the boys. I looked over to Mateo, who was across the table, and noticed he was staring at me already. As soon as we matched glances, he flashed his pearly whites at me in the way that made my stomach do a olympic-winning somersault. I had just met this man and he looked at me in a way no man has ever looked at me. And even in my weary state, I couldn’t help but follow suit. His eyebrows rose, and he nodded his head to the door, non-verbally asking me if I was ready to leave the bar with him.

Before I could non-verbally decide, he stood and announced our departure in Spanish to his buddies. They all shared a collective and drunken, “Awwwwwe”. I said my goodbyes to the good men I had met, expressing how grateful for their company.

We walked out of the bar side by side, his hand reaching for mine.

“My friends took a liking to you,” he chuckled. “I hope you had a nice time.”

“I did...” I said, not making eye contact.

“My home is right up the way,” He said, nonchalantly announcing our next location.

I stopped my black heels in their tracks. He stopped a few steps ahead of me, looking at me with a confused intrigue. “Beautiful, what is wrong, huh?”

I told myself not to say it. I told myself that men don’t like it when I’m to honest too fast. I told myself to be present in the moment, to just go back to his room and lose myself into him. But I hardly ever listen to the sane, non-emotional part of myself. It is a very, very small part of me and the emotional part of me always takes hold. I took a deep breath in as I prepared myself for an epic emotional run on sentence:

“Although I aware I come off as this carefree, exoticly beautiful American, with just no cares in the world- who is cool and in the moment and just is friends with everyone and is just like caressly sexy and cool and is just like, taking life by the reigns- I am a very calculated human being. And as much as I would love to run away and have this intense night of passion with you- I, Rebekah, am simply not cut out to be another American conquest to you. And I just don’t-”

“Hold on, hold on, hold on,” Mateo said. He walked closer to me, putting my head in his hands, and lightly touched his forehead to mine. “Breathe in.” I followed his instructions as I stared into his eyes. “Breathe out.” He softly spoke again. He released his light grip of my head, and floated his hands to hold mine.

He spoke again. “I consider myself very, very good with English. I understand many things, but I cannot understand you.” He laughed, as he let go of his hand to tuck my brown hair behind my ear. “Also, I don’t know if I ever heard someone speak so fast.”

“Did you understand anything I said?” I asked, already embarrassed.

“You lost me at ‘exotically beautiful American’. Which, one- I admire your confidence. And, two- I agree with.”

I felt myself go heart-eyed. “Oh...”

“Let me ask you,” he said, sternly. “What would make you happy?

“Pfft, where do I start...”

“No, no.” He said. “What would make you happy?” He asked again, taking a few steps back. “Right now. What would make you happy, right here, right now. No consequences.”

“You’re going to laugh.” I said.

“Tell me.” He said, in his strong Spanish accent.

“Sangria.” I sighed, and reached out my hand, in a similar fashion he did all those hours earlier.

He checked the time on the watch on his wrist. He looked up to me again. “Ah, guapa. You surprise me.” His fingers touched mine. “Let me send a message to the group...”

“This is about what I want, yes?” I said, mocking his previous words and accent.

He smirked at my attempt at humor. “Yes, of course.”

“I want it to just be us.” I said. My inner thoughts were screaming at my words and candor.

“Just us.” He said, then giving me a quick peck on the lips. “Just us, then. Follow me.”

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

The restaurants and bars in Madrid were just as charming as Mateo. And they were open so late- many until the wee hours of 6 am.

He took me to a dimly lit and small cantina. It was almost empty. We sat at a small round table, and though his chair originally was set in place directly across from me; he made sure to pull it around to my side.

“In America, we make fun of people like this.” I whispered in his ear.

“How do you Americans say this...” He paused. “We are not in Kansas anymore.” He leaned in close, and gently lay his lips to perfectly pucker against mine.

Mateo ordered a pitcher of the house sangria for us. He poured my glass first, almost to the very top- then filled his.

We took our first sip together, then locking eyes. He swallowed, then started to gently stare at me.

My hair, by then, was in a messy bun. My hoops hung from my ears with sass, my eye shadow smoked, lashes coated gently with mascara, but slightly smeared from the night’s tears of laughter.

It was quiet for a few seconds as we studied each other. “You’re quite the mystery, you know.” I finally spoke. “Me? A mystery?”

“Yes! Very much so.”

He took another drink. “Beautiful, ask me anything. I will tell you.”

I slightly tilted my head, squinting my eyes to reflect my deep thought.

“What’s your biggest fear?”

“You see, I thought you would want to know my favorite color. Or maybe when I had my first kiss. But you, beautiful... You choose the hard questions.”

I puffed my chest out, and mimicked his hand gestures and deep voice. “Ask my anything, beautiful. I will tell you anything, beautiful.”

He let out a loud laughter. “Oh, is that me?”

I nodded, smiling.

“I call you beautiful that much, yes? Well. I guess that’s what you do to me.” I flipped my hair in a confident fashion.

He continued his laughter. “Ah, so surprising. You surprise me. I am not often surprised.” He paused, and his smile dimmed the slightest bit. “My biggest fear...” He pointed to the only other people in the bar. An older couple, they held hands from across the table. They were smiling as they spoke to each other words we couldn’t hear, but could only suppose were full of love.

“You see them?” Mateo said, almost sternly curious. “Well, beauty, I want to be a doctor. My sister, she is a professor. My Father, he is a doctor. My Mother, she raised us to strive to be educated. To be strong. To not... To not fail. Succeed, and do not forget your family.”

My gaze upon Mateo in this moment was extremely intentional. His messy hair, his drunken smiles throughout the evening, and his unbuttoned just-tight-enough button down were meant to illustrate an easy exterior. This new part of him he was revealing to me, I was eager to learn.

“I know that I am meant to become a doctor. And I am...” He paused to search for his words. “I am dedicated and I know I must be alone. And I have been alone, for some time. There are...” He stopped again, this time looking to not offend me. “Lovers.” He awkwardly laughed. “But that..” He gently pointed. “Sometimes, I fear that is something I will never have time for. That I am destined for a great career but no great love.”

I snuggled my body into the side of his, scooting my chair as close as I could next to his, embracing Spain’s non-existent rules of public displays of affection. I rested my head on his shoulder. He picked up my head, and gently snuck a kiss, with a quiet passion that fit the moment we fell into.

He unlinked his mouth from mine, and touched my forehead to his, as if for a second we were commuting via thought. He sat upright suddenly, checked the time on his phone, and told me he’d be right back.

Confused, I sat alone for a moment as he went to the bar to speak with our server. I took a sip of my sangria and noticed the soft background music become louder and louder.

Mateo returned to me. He stood in front of the table silently, rose his eyebrows and looked up, referencing the Spanish slow song that was unavoidably romantic playing through the speakers.

I gulped my sip of sangria and Mateo offered me his hand. I gladly took it, as I rose from my chair. He guided me to the middle of the almost-empty cantina, still dimly lit, and I rested my head on his chest as we slowed danced.

The older couple then joined us as we danced, each in moments I’m sure we all wanted to last forever. As my head rested on his chest, and my ear listened to his heartbeat gently correspond to the Spanish love song, I wondered about the older couple.

I wondered how long they’d been together. I wondered if they had a hard road to be where they are now. I wondered if one of them wasn’t looking for love, but stumbled into it anyways. I wondered if one of them felt whisked away by the other. I wondered how they met. Perhaps it was unexpectedly, on a warm Spanish night fueled by sangria and tequila. Perhaps it was by chance, and ended up as a adventure.

I looked up to meet Mateo’s eyes, and he looked down onto mine.

Maybe there are different types of soulmates, I thought. Some who have a long road, and end up together forever. Some who have a shorter one, full of adventure, and only last a night.

Either way, they both end up here, slow-dancing in a bar, holding onto each other. And that’s all that mattered to me. ****************************************************************

It is now almost seven am, and Mateo has walked me back to my hostel. We have stood here, in front of the key-entry only lobby doors, avoiding saying goodbye for twenty minutes. Both trying to forget that in the morning I leave for France. I can see many of my travel mates walking towards the kitchen for breakfast, and the bus is parked, reflecting the sunrise in my eyes.

“I had a great time tonight.” I finally spoke.

“I did too, beautiful.” He gave me a hug, then kissed the top of my head. “And now... you go to France.”

“I do.” I sighed, disappointed somehow.

“It is a beautiful country.” He sarcastically said. “I’ve been a few times.”

“Great.” I said, looking down. I looked then to the glass doors of the hostel, and through them I saw a friend wave her hand to say hello, pointing to the kitchen. I looked at my clock, seeing it was almost time to load onto the bus.

“I have to go... But I really did have the greatest time with you.” I stood on my tip toes, and gave him a peck. I gently let go of his hand, scanned my key card, and walked back into my hostel with a heavy heart.

I made it to the entryway of the breakfast area, just enough where my friends and I locked eyes as they waved me over to be briefed about my romantic getaway. From behind, I felt a tug of my hand turn me around.

Mateo must have slipped through the door at the last second. He cradled my head close to his with both hands, so they were wrapped into my hair. He kissed me again, right then and there, with his tongue dancing with mine, and it felt that the non-existent camera filming the ending to a romantic comedy was circling around us as a crowd of people watched. He released his lips from mine, and asked so kindly, “Stay here. Stay with me, and you can meet up with everyone in Rome. I will buy the ticket. I know it’s crazy. But crazy is fun, yes?”

I looked behind me, and saw my friends, reacting with their mouths wide open, also waiting for me to reply. Mateo used his hand to softly turn my head to face him again. For a second, I thought about Lucas.

“Rebekah, you ask what my biggest fear was. You tell me, what are you so afraid of?”

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5hfanfiction · 7 years

Text

A Summer Away - Chapter Twelve

“We still need to talk about some things,” Camila said as the back of her head rested against Lauren’s chest. The stable hand’s legs were each laid out next to her as she sat in between them and her tan hands were in front of her, her own smaller hands playing with them.

The two girls laid on their picnic blanket while the horses were just a few yards away grazing on the luscious grass.

“About what?” Lauren asked as she lifted her head up to see what the problem was.

“What about my family? My friends? The fans?” She paused. “What do you want to do about them?”

“Well, you are already out as bisexual so what would be the problem?” She paused. “And I am gay, so if you are nervous about one of us coming out to the world, there is no worry.”

Camila chuckled, “No, that is not it.”

“Then what is?”

“What do I tell the fans? Our family? Our friends? Like, we haven’t even been on a date yet-”

“To be quite honest, a formal going out to a restaurant or event doesn’t initiate a relationship between two people. Well, for me it doesn’t.” Lauren explained. “Friday is just planned for us to dress up a little nicer and get out of the town for a few hours. I sort of think we are already dating but if a formal event is what you want, then one you will get. I have no problem with it.”

Camila smiled slightly at the confession as she watched her hands play with Lauren’s in front of her.

“So, what do you want to do?”

Lauren shrugged her shoulders. “What do you want to do about it?”

“It’s not only up to me, Lauren. You are in this relationship too. You deserve to have a say.”

Lauren reached up and comfortingly brushed the pad of her thumb against the softness of Camila’s cheek. She felt the girl lean her head into her hand and smiled.

“I honestly don’t care what you do. As long as you are happy, I am happy.”

Camila turned her body and smiled gratefully at the woman behind her. She showed her appreciation with a chaste kiss.

“What about right now?” She asked with a devilish grin.

Lauren laughed at her behavior. “What do you mean ‘right now’?”

Camila reached for her phone and opened up her camera app. Lauren got the memo and smiled. One photo turned into ten which then turned into a few dozen.

The photos ranged from the two girls smiling nicely into the camera to Lauren looking at Camila lovingly, to the older girl kissing the younger one’s cheek, and finally a few where their lips were interlocked.

Lauren smiled at the photos and after asking Camila to send them to her phone, she watched over the smaller girl’s shoulder as they looked through them.

“I love all of them,” Camila said excitedly.

“Me too.” Lauren agreed softly and watched as Camila opened up her Instagram app. Due to the update, Camila was able to pick a few of her favorites and have them all posted full sized with the simple act of swiping to view the others. This way, she didn’t have to deal with multiple collage apps and picking the right square-fitted frame to fit all the pictures into.

Camila picked out her absolute favorites, which included one or two from each position, and typed out a simple caption.

@camila_cabello: Days with you are my favorite. Thank you for everything

She added a red heart at the end of her caption but paused as she thought about what she was going to do next.

Lauren noticed her movements. “What’s wrong?”

Camila looked over at her, “Do you want me to tag you?”

Lauren thought about it for a minute before giving Camila a simple smile. “Yeah, I want the world to see who is lucky enough to have this beauty by my side.”

The pop star laughed at her response and tagged her in it. She took a deep breath before pressing the ‘send’ button. After this, there will be no going back. Everyone will know definitely that she has moved on and started a better life.

She pressed it quickly and immediately shut her phone off. She didn’t want to be online when her fans and the rest of the world reacted to it. She just wanted to live in this moment for just a little longer.

“Do you regret it?” Lauren asked quietly as she brushed a few strands of hair from Camila’s face.

Camila looked up into the green eyes and smiled.

“Not in the slightest.”

*****

“C’mon Camz!” Lauren yelled from the middle of the lake. “Just jump in!”

Camila shook her head as she clung to the rock as she looked down. That was a high jump and she was extremely scared.

Lauren saw this and walked out of the lake. Camila took this time to appreciate the older woman’s body as almost everything was out on display for her. Her abs, shoulders, thighs, biceps were tan, defined, and very very wet.

As Lauren got closer, Camila gulped.

“Are you really going to make me jump from here?” Camila asked terrified as she kept a hold on the rock. She was not going anywhere unless it was down on solid ground.

Lauren shook her head. “No, I will never make you do something you do not want to do. However, I believe that you can overcome this and enjoy it.”

Camila looked down at how far she has to jump and shook her head again as she clung back onto the rock. Suddenly, she felt warm strong arms wrap around her waist.

“Would you change your mind if we went down together?” Lauren husked into her ear. Camila’s breath got caught in her throat as she tried to make sense of the jumbled up words that were currently spiraling in her head.

Lauren was only wearing a black bikini. It only covered what was necessary and like she said before, almost everything was on display and currently just inches from touching her own exposed body.

Camila decided on a white bikini when she got changed this morning. She didn’t necessarily think that they would be doing cliff jumping or otherwise, she would’ve changed into something that wouldn’t come off if she jumped from almost thirty feet.

“Camz, it is only a mere thirty feet. If you want, you can climb down and we can just swim around but I do believe that you will enjoy this.”

Camila turned to face her. “But what if I land on my butt? Wouldn’t it get red and bruised?”

“Yes, that is one of the side effects from cliff jumping but if you do it correctly, then you wouldn’t need to worry about that,” Lauren informed.

Camila nodded. Then, an idea popped into her head.

“Carry me?”

Lauren raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think so Camz. That may be even more dangerous than us going down together.”

Camila sighed before giving her the puppy dog pout.

“Oh no.” Lauren groaned at the sight. “Why must you do this to me?”

“Please?” Camila pleaded.

Lauren sighed, yet held out her arms which Camila bounded into happily.

“How do you want me to hold you?” Lauren asked as she tried to situate Camila in her arms. “Bridle style? Piggyback?”

“Piggyback!” Camila yelled out as if she was a little kid. “Plus, bridle style is a little too early don’t you think?” She whispered into Lauren’s ear once she was comfortable on her back.

“Well, it’s never too early to start practicing.”

Camila’s jaw dropped at the comment which Lauren smirked at as she walked up to the ledge.

“You ready?” Lauren asked over her shoulder.

Camila reached over and kissed her softly on the lips before whispering in her ear. “Just in case I won’t be able to ever do that again.” She explained.

“I’m ready,” Camila whispered in her ear.

“On the count of three, then.”

When Lauren felt Camila nod her head, she started her count.

“One.”

“Two.”

Camila took a deep breath and prayed to God that she would still be alive after this.

“Three!”

She felt Lauren jump and then all of a sudden they were falling. Camila’s heart accelerated until they hit the cool water. Reflexively, Camila swam to the top and caught her breath once she was able to breathe and stay afloat above the water.

She laughed as adrenaline pumped through her body, “Laur! That was so much fun!” She screamed out as she looked for the stable hand. When she couldn’t find her near her, she turned around and looked for her near the rocks.

Nothing.

Her heart dropped as she looked around the lake but came up short. She checked over to where their stuff was laying in the sand and there was no one over there. She glanced over at the horses and they were still grazing near the wood line, Lauren was nowhere near them.

“Lauren?” Camila called out.

There was no answer.

“Lauren?” She yelled louder. She was able to hear her echo but she wondered how far it could be heard due to the loudness of the waterfall.

Then all of a sudden, something grabbed onto her ankle and pulled her down under the water. She screamed as she tried to kick away whatever grabbed onto her with her other leg but there was no use. Whatever caught her, had a vice-like grip.

This was it.

Was this really the way she was going to die?

She couldn’t. She had to keep fighting but her flailing arms and legs were becoming tired then suddenly she was free and she swam back up to the surface with everything she had left.

Once she broke the surface, she took a deep breath of air. Her lungs were on fire as she tried to steady her breathing and calm her heart rate.

Then the sound of a husky laugh was heard from behind her.

She whipped around and there was Lauren, trying to catch her breath from laughing and being underwater for so long.

“Lauren?”

She couldn’t stop laughing.

“That was you?” Camila asked as her rage was increasing.

Camila only had to look at Lauren nod her head to say it was time to get out of the water. Without another word, she swam out and grabbed her towel.

Lauren noticed her attitude and stopped laughing immediately. Maybe she has gone a little far.

She followed the pop star out of the water and to their sandy patch where Camila was just laying there, still trying to catch her breath.

“Camz?”

“Oh don’t ‘Camz’ me!” Camila yelled, annoyed. “I can’t believe you did that.”

At the thought of her little prank, she couldn’t help but giggle.

“It wasn’t funny!”

Lauren bit her tongue to keep a straight face. “You’re right. I was wrong and I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

Camila crossed her arms and looked away from the farm hand. Lauren looked at her adorably and couldn’t help but think of a five-year-old doing the same thing.

She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the smaller girl. “I’m sorry.” She tenderly kissed Camila’s jawline, cheeks, nose, corners of her mouth, and finally on her lips.

Camila didn’t want to give in but when she felt those lips on hers, she couldn’t help herself.

She started to kiss back.

Lauren’s lips were soft yet slightly chapped from being out in the sun. She felt her hands wrap around her and rest on the skin above her bikini bottom ties.

Wrapping her arms around her neck, she started to kiss her more fully and with more passion just to be interrupted by the ringing of Camila’s phone.

“Ignore it,” Camila whispered out before she captured Lauren’s lips with her own again.

This time, Lauren pulled away. “But it can be important.”

Camila sighed once she realized the moment was gone anyway and grabbed her phone and looked at the screen.

Dinah.

“What do you want?” She spoke into the microphone a little too harshly.

“Okay!” Dinah yelled back. “Jeez, what got your panties in a knot?”

Camila rolled her eyes, “I’m not wearing any.”

There was a slight pause before it clicked in Dinah’s head. “Oh! Is Lauren there by any chance?” She asked with a teasing tone.

“Yeah, she’s right here next to me-“ She said the words before she even had the chance to think about where this conversation was going. “No! I mean I am not wearing any underwear.”

“Yes,” Dinah said slowly, a little bit confused. “We got passed that part already.”

Camila smacked her hand against her face. She couldn’t believe this was happening. “No, I mean-“

“Mila, it is perfectly alright. Sex is a normal human thing and everyone does it eventually in their lives. There is no reason to be ashamed. I mean, I thought you were going to wait a little longer before you would have sex with Lauren but I guess whatever floats your boat, right? And I would say ‘use protection’ and all that crap but since, well, you know-“

“Dinah!” Camila screamed out, frightening Lauren a little who was sitting next to her. Camila hoped that she didn’t hear what Dinah said. Sometimes people can hear what other people say on the other side of the line even though they are not on speaker phone and Camila was worried that she heard everything.

“I am not doing that!” She explained. “I am wearing a bikini! We are at a lake.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Camila prompted. “Now, why did you call?”

She wanted to get this phone call over and done with at first but now that their moment is far from coming back, she was just annoyed.

“I wanted to see what the weather was like there so I packed the right clothing.”

“Really, Dinah?” Camila panned. “You couldn’t have looked it up online or something? Plus, what would that matter to you? You overpack for every damn trip you go on anyway. Even if you are staying the night at my place, you bring like a whole suitcase!”

“Okay, Mila. You did not have to come at my life like that okay?” Dinah passed. “Plus, I also wanted to talk to you about your Instagram post. So, I guess since it’s Instagram official then-“

“Goodbye, Dinah!” Camila interrupted before hanging up the phone. Lauren laughed at Camila’s reaction as the younger girl threw her phone to the side. It was only a few moments before her text tone was heard.

Camila grumbled something underneath her breath as she checked it.

Dinah: I hope I’m not interrupting anything but if I am, then you two are nasty as we JUST got off the phone. Anyway, there was another reason I called you. There is a flight coming into Columbus on Saturday and I bought my ticket and I’ll be staying for two weeks!

Even though she frustrated her just moments before, Camila sighed with a small smile. It will be nice to see Dinah again and it was only a few days away.

I’m happy to hear that! Can’t wait to see you!

She closed out of the app, shut off her phone, and threw it to the side. She lifted her head and noticed Lauren was gazing at her with a dopey smile on her face.

“What?” Camila couldn’t help but smile.

Lauren shook her head. “You’re beautiful.”

The two then embraced each other and rested onto their blanket as they both took a sweet nap in each other’s arms.

*****

“So what was up with you when you found out about Jake?”

Lauren looked over to where Camila was atop of Maverick. The two of them were finally on their way back home but this time they were walking back, enjoying the view.

The stable hand scoffed and rolled her eyes at the mention of the new recruit, “I don’t understand why she insisted we keep him around. He’s just going to mess everything up.”

Camila furrowed her eyebrows confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Lauren sighed. “There is this schedule around the farm to when and how things get done around here. The other stable hands are apart of it and there is no trouble with them. Jake, however, does not listen.”

“What does he do?”

Lauren raised her arms in frustration. “For example, yesterday morning he let out a few horses that didn’t need to go out and then I had to spend a few hours of my time fetching them out of the front field.”

Camila grimaced. That field was extremely large and she remembered times where she was out there for almost an hour looking for just one horse.

“Plus, he has this attitude. He thinks he is in charge of everything and just for the record, his dazzling smile and dimples are not working for him. At all.” Lauren huffed. “He’s not even that cute.”

Camila hummed as she ignored those last few statements, “Grandma did make an excellent point though. It seemed like you did need some extra help. Just give him a few more days. Maybe he can turn himself around.”

Lauren huffed again. “Fine, I will try. But only because you want me to. Not for his well-being.”

Camila chuckled. That was as good as it was going to get.

Eventually, they arrived back at the barn where Lauren dismounted and walked over towards Maverick. She collected the reins underneath his chin and held out her hand for Camila to take.

The smaller girl smiled and took her warm hand in hers. She then swung her leg over and dismounted easily with Lauren’s help.

The two of them stood close to one another as Lauren had one hand on the reins and one arm wrapped around Camila’s waist as the younger girl wrapped her arms around Lauren’s neck.

“I had a good time today.”

Lauren smiled as she looked down into the chocolate eyes she was falling for, “We have to go out riding more often like that. I enjoyed it.”

“Oh definitely,” Camila agreed. “I also can’t wait for Friday. I know you don’t see it as some big thing but I do.”

“Hey, if you see it like that then I do as well,” Lauren assured her. “Days out like today is just what I’m used to but I will try my best to make the night perfect for you.”

“So this counted as a date?”

“To me it did.” Lauren shrugged her shoulders. “But I think you are right. Something special is what is needed now and you will just have to wait.”

“Like I said, I can’t wait,” Camila whispered as she leaned forward. Their lips were just centimeters apart when a deep voice rang out from inside the barn.

“Hey Camila!” Jake shouted out. Lauren groaned lightly as their little moment was ruined.

He walked over to them and smiled, “Well, I just thought if you wanted to go on a ride with me but I see that you just came back from one.”

As Lauren glared slightly at the new farm hand, Camila smiled politely.

“Sorry about that.”

Jake shook his head, “Oh no worries. I guess I just have to catch you before this one does.” He smiled and pointed over at Lauren who was still glaring at him. She scoffed.

“Good luck with that.” She mumbled underneath her breath. Camila, who was standing right next to her, heard her and skillfully smacked her in the side without him noticing.

“Maybe tomorrow?” He suggested. “You also need to meet Bear, my horse. He is one handsome stallion.”

“If I have time, then sure!” Camila stated. “I will be looking forward to it.”

At those last words, Lauren whipped her head towards her. Jake bid his goodbyes and left with a big smile, showing off his dimples and turned around to go back into the barn.

Camila looked over at Lauren with a questioning glance. The older girl just glanced at her before she scoffed again and tugged on the reins of both Maverick and Zane and led them into the barn with Camila shaking her head with a small smile on her face.

She knows Lauren would never admit it, but she knew.

She was jealous.

A/N: Another chapter! I hope you liked it! This story can also be found on my wattpad: beyxnd-the-stars. Have a good day/night!

- Sara

#UPDATE #series #AU #slash #camren #romance fluff #submission #A Summer Away

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noisytheoristphilosopher · 7 years

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“Closure”

Ali walked outside with her brown paper bags, the sun was going down. She struggled to carry her four bottles of wine, she could feel paper slowly tearing and the bottles slipping out of their bags. She stopped and placed the bags on the floor. Her long dark brown hair was ruffled, it kept sticking to her face. She bent down to fix the bottles of wine and prevent them from falling out and breaking. She could feel her sweat trickle down her back, her thighs burned from squatting down. Ali’s back pocket began to vibrate, her iPhone began to bark at her. Annoyed, she rolled her eyes, “c’mon, not right now! I can’t even get a second to myself,” she said complaining. Agitated, she stood up, and took the phone out of her pocket to see who it was. UNKNOWN appeared on her phone, she never answered to unknown callers. Grinning she pressed the end button. Shortly after, it began ringing again, but this didn’t stop her from pressing the end button again. After the 3rd missed call, the voicemail notification tone beeped. Opening her iPhone, she was ready to hear the voicemail. She held her phone up to her ear, but only managed to hear the ringtone from another incoming call. She stared at the ringing phone, putting her hand on her lips she pondered if it was a client from work, or if it was an emergency from home. She reluctantly answered, “Hello, this is Ali with whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?

“Hey,” it was him. She froze. “Hello? Ali? It’s Mike.” She knew who it was, he just had caught her off guard and rendered her speechless. She didn’t know what to say over the phone. They had been texting these past 4 days, but it had been months since she heard his voice. Placing the phone with one hand on her ear, she squatted again and continued accommodating the bottles of wine with the other.

“Mmmm Hey! Everything okay?” Ali’s voice shook.

“Not really. Are you busy? Where are you? Can you talk?” He sounded distressed.

“I’m at Publix…sor,” he cut her off.

“Ok, I’ll be there in 10” he said.

“Wait? What? No, what do you mean? we are not talking in 10” the call ended, she stared at her phone with confusion. Ali felt her stomach flip, an empty feeling at the pit of her stomach. She quickly finished fixing the bottles of wine, and stood up and began walking to the end of the parking lot where her car was parked. Walking swiftly, she contemplated how to avoid him, “I could just get in her car and leave, maybe even tell him I had a family emergency, that’s believable right?”

She felt dirty, disgust filled her stomach, she hated how she looked right then and there. She hated the dark circles under her eyes, she was disgruntled by the oil in her hair and the flakes of her dehydrated skin. Looking down at her coffee stained white blouse, she could see her deep collar bones, they looked less appealing now that she had them. The sick feeling in her stomach became a permanent part of her as she saw him pull up and park right next to her car. She could feel her stomach churning. She knew it was his car by his gold license plate, she had bought him the license plate a year and a half ago for their anniversary.

His smile was like a bright neon blue sign that cut through the darkness. Just like she had imagined, seeing him stirred up memories. Flashes of candlelight dinners filled with wine, and hotel rooms. Flashes of stealing each other’s covers and bed space, of sharing a small shower while kissing underneath it as if it was rain. Splinters of sharing a dollhouse apartment, and watching him eat his waffles with honey brought an instant smile to her face. But as she got closer to her car, she remembered how she had gotten tangled up in his threads a year ago. It’s not real she reminded herself. Not the way he watched her from across the parking lot, and not the way he asked her how she’d been. Not the way he hugged her, and held her, not even the way he apologized.

“I’m sorry, I am so sorry, I understand now. I understand what it feels like to be depressed and feeling like your life is falling apart right in front of you and you can’t do nothing about it. I understand now what it feels like to lose a parent, and to have the weight of your family on your shoulders. I understand now, I understand the struggle of waking up and pushing yourself to go to school and work, and crying on the bathroom floor every morning asking for the heartache and emptiness to subside. I thought you were exaggerating when you would tell me you felt depressed and needed help. When you didn’t want to go out, when you wanted to sleep all day, when you felt everything was pointless. I’m so sorry, please, I’m begging you, please forgive me. You gave me your all, even when you had nothing left inside of you. I should’ve been there for you more. I should’ve helped you with our bills, with our groceries, with our meals, with our dog. I should’ve listened to you…I should’ve come home early instead of lying and staying out late. I should’ve came home when you needed me. I shouldn’t have gone out looking for more, I should’ve came home every night. I’m sorry. I didn’t know...you were right in front of me…and I didn’t know…I’m sorry. Please. Please, forgive me.”

Her smile faded, she stopped listening. She zoned out, staring at his brown shiny J.crew boots. She imagined how things would play out this time if she let him in again. A month from tonight, he wouldn’t be calling her and texting her the same way. A month from tonight he would forget everything he realized, and everything he put her through. A month from tonight, she would be twisting, thrashing, and begging god for inner strength to be able to shake off his grip.

“We can work this out” he said, taking her hand and giving her a kiss on her forehead. Droplets of cold water began falling from the dark, parted sky. The light post under their cars flickered and buzzed, the smell of wet dirt and gasoline rose with the heat and drizzle from the rain.

She shut her eyes, she knew things weren’t going to change. She couldn’t stand it anymore, prying herself open each time he came back. Nearly killing herself to please him until she would feel nothing but drained, empty.

Lighting struck a tree nearby, it began pouring.

She stared up at the sky, “Well, I guess it’s time for me to go.” She pressed the key and unlocked her car.

“Ali! Wait! Please, I need to talk to you. I need to talk to someone who understands. You mean everything to me,” he pleaded.

Somehow this conversation was worse than finding out he didn’t want to be with her anymore and forcing him to move his things out of their apartment. His voice pierced with sadness, his face was inches away from hers, his callous hands wrapped around her forearms, she could feel his despair. She was so consumed by his display of feelings that she had almost forgot everything he had put her through. Then it hit her like a slap in the face.

“You wanted to talk to me, and you did...it’s raining Mike, we are both getting wet. I’m tired, I’m exhausted, and I have things to do,” were the only words that seeped out of her cracked lips.

“Ali, please! I have so much to tell you, it’s important, please!” Mike cried.

“No. I got things to do.” A rush of frustration surged through her. She pushed him off, and backed away from him.

“like what? Going home and walking and feeding Olivia? Or going to your grandmother’s house and slaving around for your family? C’mon Ali, let’s be real, please let’s just talk, please I need you right now. You always said you would be there for me, and I need you to listen to me right now,” he looked like he was having a hard time saying all of this to her, his lips pursed with guilt and regret.

“I got things to do Mike!” she said hesitatingly.

“Ali! Ten minutes, please, just ten minutes,” he gushed.

Please, please, please just say it. Tell him no, get in your car and drive off. She waited. Nothing. Her legs buckled, her heart pounded and thumped like a wild animal trying to break out of its cage. Her heart-whatever was left of it anyways-was breaking into a trillion pieces. She nodded yes, and looked to the floor.

Taking her by one hand, he opened the door of his car for her with the other. She turned around to lock her car, her car beeped and lights flashed. She walked towards his passenger door. She got in, placing the bottles of wine by her feet. Clank! The bottles collided against each other. He ran around the car and entered drenched. His hair was flat and fell in his eyes. Normally it looked like Justin Timberlake’s, but now it looked wet and raunchy. He turned on the car, the AC vents blew out icy cold air. The car smelled brand new, the leather smell still was potent. Ali was cautious about what she touched, he didn’t like when people touched his things, or most valuable possessions. Turning on the windshield wipers, he reached over and gave her a kiss. Her body tingled, she wanted him, but knew it was such a bad idea.

He shifted the car into drive. She Jolted. “Where are we going? My car is right there!” she said turning in her seat and pointing at her car. “Mike you said, ten minutes!”

“I know Ali, we are just going for a ride, relax we are going to go talk…somewhere with less people. Somewhere with more privacy,” he grabbed her hand he rubbed his thumb on the top of her palm in circular motions. He looked at her and smiled, his teeth were big and white. He looked like a wolf, ready to eat her the minute he had the opportunity. The car stopped shortly at the red light, he let go of her hand and grabbed her chin. They stared at each other, his eyes looked black holes, it made it hard for her to break his gaze. Her eyes shimmered with tears, of fear and happiness, they shimmered with uncertainty.

Thousands of car lights streamed in front of them. Red light, green light, red light, green light, red light- the congested roads were at an absolute standstill. He began kissing her. As their lips entwined with each other, she searched for excuses and reasons of why it felt different with him.

As she kissed him, she recalled the nights where she would disappear, nights where she would end up kissing someone new. She remembered how their lips felt wrong and their hands didn’t tug on her long brown hair the right way, how their bodies didn’t fit quite right. She remembered reading that an orgasm is the only point when a woman's mind became completely blank--you think of nothing in those seconds. Her flesh was ready to betray her. She pulled away, she could feel the shell of the person she was cracking with every kiss. She could feel hope swell up inside her like a current, drowning her over and over again.

"What are you so damn afraid of?” He said with a sly grin. His dark eyes twinkled in the green dim light. His hand grabbing her thigh, he shook it to grab her attention. The ac in the car was so cold, goosebumps were visible on her legs. He clicked the passenger seat heater on for her with a smirk. “Something won’t ever change, you still get cold easily. I’ll be honest though, I miss you complaining about the ac being too low, and your cold pink nose rubbing up against mine for warmth.”

Silence filled the car. Still staring out the window, she refused to lock eyes with him. she could see his reflection bounce off the window, his black wavy hair and all saints shirt got lost in the windows shadows. It hurt her to look at him. She twisted out of his grip. Wasn't he aware that his words always sent her into a panic? Her pulse skittered, her hands perspired, she let out a loud sigh as she tried to calm her racing thoughts.

“Ali? Hey? You okay?” he squeezed her thigh this time.

“Ali?? Why don’t you want to kiss me? Why did you pull away from me? What are you afraid of?” he said nervously.

Of letting you get too close. Of you realizing I'm not what you wanted. Of getting attached to you again and then losing you, losing everything. Her mouth was clamped shut, she refused to verbalize her thoughts. She forced her words down, nearly choking on them. Finally, she split her lips open, a dry breath came out. "Of being taken for granted,” she finally said under her breath.

His face darkened.

“I’m not going to be one of those girls.”

Her eyes were now locked on his face. A stoney cold look, she had mustered up the strength to stand her ground. She watched him struggle for excuses, she watched him desperately trying to reach for something that would calm her and reassure her that would never happen again. Something to say to soothe the storm of doubts she was caught up in.

“You’re not like anyone else” His hands were grabbing his steering wheel tight now. He hated when she would doubt her place in his life, and she knew this very well. It didn’t change how she felt though.

Only a suck of her teeth made it past her lips at his answer. Rolling her deep brown eyes, she knew she wasn’t like the others. His words did not touch her, they did not change the fact she was scared, absolutely petrified. It didn't change her feelings, the feeling that now that he knew how much of a mess she was, it was so easy to see him looking for a way out.

Her face became flushed, scarlet red filled her cheeks. “You want to know if I’m scared?” she said. He struggled to form a reply. It was not a question. She didn’t bother to wait for him to respond, she quickly spat out, “I am. Yes, I fucking am. So scared of being used and hurt only to be left behind again. So scared of getting my god damn hopes up again only to have them demolished and torn the fuck down. But most of all I’m scared of being taken for granted.”

He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. Closed it. When it became clear that he was frantically searching for something, anything, to say, she spoke again, this time slower, calmer.

"But this time No. I thought I wanted to give this another shot, that maybe this time it would work. But NO, now I know. Now I know better, and I know that you will run as soon as you see me breaking, as soon as you see a sign of weakness. And yes, I am scared, but it's not of you anymore, it’s not of you. It’s not of you being a fucking coward. I'm scared of never finding someone who can show me that I don't have to be terrified to be imperfect or ideal, to be easy to love, to show my failures while appearing to the world all put together.”

He stared at the black Mercedes Benz steering wheel, grabbing the leather more firmly this time. So tightly you could see the white spots in his hands, and the areas where the flow of blood was restricted. He was out of words. He knew he had lost her, this time she was out of his reach. He realized in that moment, she had slipped through his fingers long before he had pushed her out the door. Her absence had less to do with her abandonment issues, and more to do with her survival.

“But don’t you miss me? Didn’t you say you missed me?” Managed to escape his trembling lips.

“I do. I miss you and want you but I know you're not right for me anymore. I know everything you did behind my back and I remember everything you've put me through," She said.

It was always this way with him. An “almost” at best, a “maybe things will be different”, but with him you never knew. She was sick and tired of the games, of their power struggles. She loved him, and he knew it, but she was tired of waiting for him to be ready to love her the way she needed him to.

Honk! Honk! traffic began to move. Drivers wandered forward. Exhaust fumes belched out, blurred headlights through the driving rain zoomed past them. Honk! Honk! Mike stared straight ahead, unaware of the world outside the claustrophobic car. Honk! Honk! “Mike!” Ali screamed, embarrassed of the cars that kept going around them shouting obscenities. He shook his head, his hair plopped to the side, snapping out of his emotions. He accelerated, Ali could feel the power of the car. One hundred thousand dollars’ worth of German engineering, three hundred and ninety horsepower, six-liter engine. At ninety miles per hour, the engine was only idling.

He pulled over onto the side of the road. He stopped the car all of a sudden, banging his fists against the steering wheel. It had taken him longer than she’d expected to explode. She stilled in her seat and closed her eyes, pretending he couldn’t see her as long as she couldn’t see his flushed cheeks, the veins on his temples throbbing. As long as she couldn’t see his jaws clenching, jerking angrily, back and forth, back and forth. She began breathing heavily, he had sent her heart beat flying.

She could hear his hasty sighs, his deep intakes of breath. She felt tension fill the cold dry air in the car. Anxiety began building up in her body, the air seemed thick enough to suffocate her. The breathing exercises her therapist had taught her were complete utter shit at this point. She began chipping the gel nail polish in her nails, and trying to hide her fear.

She couldn't take it anymore, she couldn't stand the feeling of being trapped in such a small and confined place with him. She threw the door open and got out of the car. The rain and the warmth from Miami’s heat warmed her skin immediately and helped clear her head, but it did nothing to prepare her for the insults that followed. For his cursing, for his fit of rage, from him rushing towards her and slamming the door shut.

He grabbed her by her wrist, and shoved her back towards his body and up against the car. Grabbing her firmly as if not to lose a sense of reality, he kissed her as tears streamed down his cheeks. There were tears in his eyes, just like hers, but she held hers back. This time she was in control. As he peered down at her, he noticed she seemed unaffected, not even hugging him back.

“You knew,” he shouted. She wondered what he would do if she just pushed him off and walked away. She wondered what would happen if she just got into his car and just drove off leaving him behind cursing her in the street.

“You knew all this time.” He said again. He shook her now, enraged. Her brown hair swirled into her face.

It wasn't a question for her to answer. He wasn't responding well to her using his actions back at him. He didn’t like having a dose of his own medicine. He didn’t like that this time she was the one breaking him, just like he had done to her so many times before. She knew he had already bragged to his friends that he would be able to get her back. That because she loved him unconditionally she would always forgive him.

But she had something to hold over his head, something so dark, so twisted, that he didn't know how to deal with it. Something that he knew that he didn't want anyone to figure out. She knew him all too well, his secrets, his lies, and worst of all his truths. As he hugged her tightly, the scent of his Killian cologne burned her nostrils. She reminded herself sternly that she would not give in this time. Her silence and stillness fueled his burning rage. It was as if he set himself on fire right then and there, in the middle of the expressway. Consumed by rage and embarrassment. Curious eyes wandered towards them as they drove passed them, most of them looked with bewilderment.

"Yes," she exclaimed. "I did, and I didn't want to tell you. I used you like you used me. Did you think I didn’t know about what you did in the past? I wouldn't have told you how much I knew, and damned myself for it. Damned myself for sticking around and waiting. I wanted to prove to myself that no matter how hard you tried you would never break me again. Never in a million lifetimes. I didn’t I think I could say this, but now I can finally move on.”

She watched him go up in flames. He let go of her, his hands were balled up in tight fists now. The veins in his arms pulsing. She watched him closely, and reminded herself of how he had made her feel. He screamed, kicking and punching the side of his car. He made several dents on the Mercedes Benz he had just bought. His dark blue denim ripped as he kneed the passenger door for the last time. She watched him with a smile on her face as she flagged down a cab.

#writeyourselfalive

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theworstbob · 7 years

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the seven+ new things i took in last week. in this post: tech n9ne, burning love, the handmaiden, elbow, alison krauss, you me at six, little big town, fruitvale station

1) The Storm, by Tech N9ne: For some reason, this fell a little flat for me. And I'd really like to figure out why that was, but here I am, I listened to this last Sunday but am now writing this entry today, this Sunday, and I don't take notes or anything when listening to things, and all I'm left with now is an album I didn't really feel and decided not to remember. It was probaby fine, overall? All things are probably mostly OK?

2) Burning Love, cr. Erica Oyama & Ken Marino (s1-3): Everything about this show is perfect. I love it so much and I know it took me years to watch it but it's so good and so pure and I just want to make a list of everything I loved. Adam Scott dancing in the season two premiere. Adam Scott saying "it was the best day of my life" in the limo. Every single thing Janet Varney did. Every time they used the phrase "monkey heart." The Blaze character, especially in season two. The one-note singing competition and the song they wrote about the one note. The blind girl, and then they brought back the blind girl to be a judge for the dance competition. All the times Kumail Nanjiani said "lesibians." June Diane Raphael telling random crew members "you have been my rock." I would continue making this list but it would just end up being every single thing that happened on this show.

3) The Handmaiden, dir. Park Chan-wook: I'd been watching a lot of Mystery Science Theatre over the weekend, and man, it is really some sort of thing to go from the truly amateur productions with point-and-shoot cinematography to this film, which had a discernible visual style, which had a director who understood concepts like "framing" and was able to compose interesting shots. Going from Avalanche to The Handmaiden was a similar shock as going from Sausage Party to Zootopia, but more profound because hot damn this film. Setting aside the fact you can easily tell the Korean lesibian con artist film is being directed by a dude ("Hey, you know what we should show from two different perspectives? The lesibian sex scene. If we don't show them 69ing, how will the audience know they are lesibians?"), this is an awesome film. It's such an exceptionally plotted film, it has all these twists and turns that engaged even me -- me! who watched a three-hour movie about the Midwest this morning! I enjoyed a plot-centric film! I was ENTHRALLED by a plot-centric film! The plot twists always made sense, and they made thinking about the first half of the film a much more fun thing to do -- thinking about the character interactions in the early going with the information you have after the second half is, like, when does X make the decision to do Thing to Y? It was great I loved it. I should end all reviews by just blurting how I reacted.

4) Little Fictions, by Elbow: For the longest time, I resisted listening to Elbow because I think "Grounds for Divorce" is a perfect song and I didn't want to ruin it by learning that Elbow usually makes very ponderous very British very indie songs, and while I enjoyed an Elbow album a bit more than I thought, it's still not really my jam. It is a very good rock album, rather British and rather indie but never ponderous, I never hated that I was listening to it -- and I'm willing to concede it was a rather Not Good bus ride on which I listened to this album, and I wasn't in a mood to have to think about what I was listening to -- but I like listening to other things more than these other things.

5) Windy City, by Alison Krauss: hey guess what alison krauss is amazing. i don't know if you know? alison krauss? she's amazing. i have a lot of value to contribute to a conversation about alison krauss, i think it's a really hot take, to say alison krauss is amazing, you're not gonna get a lot of people saying alison krauss is amazing, but i'm not scared. i dare to be different. alison krauss makes very very good songs i enjoy.

6) Night People, by You Me at Six: I think I've been aware of You Me at Six for years but have never thought to check them out until this album, and this album both makes me regret that it took me this long to get to something they made but also helped me understand why I never felt any urgent need to check them out. Because these songs are great. These songs were built to be shouted out in arenas, and I was 100% stoked to be listening to them, it was one of the most hype bus rides in recent memory, but while the songs are phenomenal, they also lack identity. I don't have any idea who these people are, beyond the fact that they are solid musicians. I wasn't even able to tell this was a British band. It's arena-ready rock being delivered by coffee-shop-ready personas. And, I mean, it's a great album, one of my top ten for the year so far, but man, any semblance of attitude or individuality really would have taken this to Flavor Town.

7) The Breaker, by Little Big Town: This is a perfectly acceptable pop/country album and the whole time I wished I was listening to something better. It's harder to place what I need from Little Big Town that's missing like it was for You Me at Six just now. Like they're the masters of songs that should hit every button for me but fall just short, "Girl Crush" (not this album but the most representative of the whole Little Big Town thing) is a song I should love but I have a need which I don't have the capacity of language to express, and the same goes for the songs on this album, they're all good, but... Maybe they're just not terribly substantive. They sound on point, and the lyrics hint at some deeper emotion, but they never access that well? I dunno, I think I'd just rather not think about this album again.

8) Fruitvale Station, dir. Ryan Coogler: This is a powerful piece of cinema, so powerful that it might stand out that the film is using emotional shortcuts. I hesitate to use words like "manipulative" when critiquing art, because that's... the goal? of art?, but the point this movie was trying to make ("Maybe this dude shouldn't have died idk") would have been made without a couple of scenes showing what a Beautifully Normal Person the guy was. I'm talking specifically about the scene where a dog gets hit by a car and the dude gets sad about it. It's not an AWFUL scene -- you can actually draw a tie to how Michael B. Jordan reacts to the hit-and-run, anger and confusion but ultimately realizing he can't save the dog, with how the people on the train react when he gets shot (spoilers for real life), so it's not like the movie is only using that scene to say "THIS MAN IS A SAINT," but this film would still be resonant and vital without that scene. It's amazing work all the same, though. The film never truly enters "THIS MAN IS A SAINT" territory with its depiction of Oscar, only flirts with it a couple times. It knows he had a complicated past, but it's able to acknowledge that while showing the sort of person he is in the present, and they navigate that idea so expertly that it feels tragic when he's robbed of his chance at a future. It has one of the most devastating closing shots I've seen, and as long as there is an America, this will be an essential piece of American art.

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