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royallyprincesslilly · 7 months

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Title: Wasted Love {Part II}

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warning: Language, High Angst

Words: 6.3k

Summary: Nope.

Note: Posted the first part of this months back and finally getting around to part 2. I hope you like it. Look out for the final part.

As always, thank you for reading. I appreciate it!

As you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

Previous: Wasted Time |

-Lewis-

"For fuck's sake!” He threw the controller across the room. When it collided with the floor it shattered sending pieces everywhere. "Woah. Woah! What the hell?!” Andrew, Miles, and Daniel all looked at him with varying expressions of confusion, shock, and concern. "Yo, what the fuck is your problem? It’s just an L in MK," Andrew said. He sighed then rubbed his face, pressing a little harder than necessary. "Like we can go again, and I'll let you win if it's that serious," Miles said. He sighed again, his head miles, leaps, and bounds away from the video game, the living room, or his friends. His mind was still in that penthouse suite with you standing in front of him as you argued going back and forth both pushing and neither relenting even a little. His head was still there picking apart every word, every expression, every shuddered breath, every pupil dilation. "Yo, Lewis," Daniel called bringing his attention back to them. "Nah, this can't be about the game. Even you're not that petty," Miles said putting his controller down. "What's up?" He rolled his head around cracking each joint in his neck and shoulders. He hadn't realized until now how wound up he'd been over the last 2 and a half weeks. He also hadn’t realized how steadily his anger and frustrations were climbing too. What was him being in disbelief for the first few days after the confrontation turned into anger then annoyance. Right now he was festering and stewing in all three. He couldn’t believe that after everything you'd been through, everything you'd shared, the lengthy conversations, the trips to and from each of your homes, the late-night phone and video calls that lasted for hours and hours, the dates, the trips, the interactions with his family and him yours, all of it, you were here.

While he had thought you were building and strengthening and growing toward each other despite his insane schedule and lack of free time, that wasn't the case at all. If you had then there was no way you could have said the shit you did or believed he would do some shit like that. "Dude," Andrew began. "It's nothing," he lied. "Bullshit. It's not racing that's been going good, it's not the other hustles either. What, is it Y/N?" His entire body tensed at the mention of your name. That was different. Before, your name brought him peace, a smile and so much more. "Bingo. What is it? Haven't seen her in a few weeks, she too busy for your ass and you salty for it?" He was used to Daniel’s teasing, and usually, he would laugh it up and allow them to bust his chops, but right now Daniel was rubbing on a sensitive topic. Before he realized it he'd kissed his teeth. That action made all three of them perk up. "What's wrong?" "We're done," he blurted out as if the words were acrid acid on his tongue. They were quiet for a few moments, then Miles broke it. "Done? Fuck outta here. You're lying." "I'm for real,” he replied with a touch of exasperation in his voice. "What? What happened?" He sighed again then told them the whole story not leaving out anything. He wanted to hear their thoughts mainly because he felt they would take his side. As he went through the whole thing again he had to admit to himself that there were some things he shouldn't have said, things that he recognized fueled your ruthlessness, things he now regretted. When he'd said his piece he waited for them to tune in, however, a good minute passed before any of them said a word. They just exchanged looks as if speaking nonverbally and trying to come to a consensus. "She fucked up right." Daniel made a face. "IIIIIIII mean," he stretched out in that high-pitched tone that said even more.

"Hold on,” Andrew interrupted, “Has something changed? I thought you were all about her these last months. I thought since she finally gave you the time you were being real.”

“I was—am—was. Shit.”

“You slipped up?”

“No! It was nothing, it was work.”

They all gave him the look as if he was full of shit. Kissing his teeth again he rolled his eyes. “I’m telling the truth. It was work, nothing more. Hell I even told them that when they tried to tag team off each other to spit game. I told them I was seeing someone, and it was getting serious, and I wasn’t bout that life anymore.”

“That’s what I thought,” Miles said.

“I didn’t even know she was there. She showed me some fucked picture and she ran with that shit.”

“What picture?”

He opened his messages, found the picture then showed it to them. You’d sent it to him a few hours after you’d left when he texted you that, “You were fucking things up”, your reply was the picture and a simple reply, “Naw bruh you did that shit all on your own. Own it!” It was the last message you’d sent him. It was now almost 3 weeks later, and you were still radio silent.

“Woah, yeah. That looks bad,” Andrew spat out.

Daniel took his phone and studied the picture closer. “Is she kissing your neck?”

“No.”

Miles now snatched the phone and studied it. “And her hand--.”

“No. Nothing happened. The wild shit is this was a backroom photoshoot for the brand. We were posing for the designer for their social marketing.”

“Does she know that?”

“I don’t know. I shit you not, she blew in like a hurricane and within 10 minutes she was gone. She didn’t let me explain. Nothing. Someone sent her that picture.”

“Someone wanted to start shit and she took the bait.”

“9 months. 9 fucking months I’ve been bending backward trying to erase my past for her. 9 months I’ve been putting in wild effort to show her, prove to her I’m not the same dude I used to be, 9 months I’ve been going hard trying to show her what she meant to me and that I’m not fucking around when it comes to her, but 10 minutes and it all blew the fuck up. Now I’m angry, what the fuck was I doing this whole time? Why?”

They didn’t bother replying because there was nothing else to say. They knew everything he was saying was true. He’d cut out all the extra shit months ago because he wanted to get closer to you. He’d decided to be the committing type and he was happy to do it, happy to show you he was more than his reputation. He’d turned on plenty of trips, parties, and things of the kind with his boys because it would have backfired. He’d worked hard to earn your trust but in truth, he hadn’t earned anything. You still saw him as he used to be. And that was the hard pill for him to swallow.

~~~~~~~

-1 Week Later-

“Uncle Lewis let’s go in the pool.”

Snapping out of it, he smiled at his niece then nodded. “Of course princess, let’s go.”

He walked to the edge of the pool and stood beside her. As they prepared his nephew approached and began doing the same thing. As they counted down from three he jumped at 2.

“Aw, Uncle Lewis you cheated!”

He shrugged and watched them leap into the water creating massive miniature splashes of the one he’d just created. When they emerged they came after him trying to attack him like little baby sharks. Each of their attempts was blocked and turned around on them. When one failed he grabbed the other and tossed them across the pool then did the same for the other. Soon there was almost just as much water outside the pool as there was inside.

By the time he got out of the pool the sun was setting and he was exhausted. Dropping himself into one of the lounge chairs, he sighed and allowed himself to relax. However, relaxation wasn’t in the cards for him. Though the activity from before worked to distract him from his heavy thoughts, now with the absence of said activity it all came flooding back. With an exasperated grunt, he grabbed his phone off of the side table and then went to his socials.

As he aimlessly scrolled through the posts he liked a few and kept swiping. Some of the posts he registered others he didn’t. Within a few short minutes, he somehow found himself on yours. He didn’t even notice until he was staring at one of your recent posts, a picture of yourself staring deeply into the camera. It looked like something shot for a brand or a photoshoot rather than a natural selfie.

For several moments all he thought of was how fucking gorgeous you were. The saying ‘the eyes are the windows to the soul’ rang true for you because every time he gazed into them he was always pulled into their depths to drown in their beauty. Fuck, he missed you he thought to himself. On the 4th post he’d landed on he sighed seeing you laughing uncontrollably with your best friend. You looked like you hadn’t a care in the world; like you were blissfully happy. The thought hit him then that you looked like you didn’t miss him one bit.

Acknowledging that made his heart thud painfully then his annoyance was back. It was just like you to leave him to fall apart while you escaped with carefreeness. He’d always suspected that he felt more for you than you felt for him. He guessed that this was his proof. He tapped the tag in the photo of your best friend and found even more videos and pictures of you. The backdrop said you were either on an island or some European seaside town and you were enjoying yourself. He pressed his finger to the screen, freezing the video on your smiling face. Drinking wasn’t really his thing, but fuck did he want a drink or three right now.

“You’re messing yourself up.”

Snapping his head up, he found his mother sitting beside him.

“Mum.”

“Not only are you messing yourself up with everything you’re keeping in but you’re trying to use everything you possibly can as an escape, case in point this last-minute trip,” she finished.

“Mum, it’s not like--.”

“And according to Miles and Daniel, you’re spiraling inside, and it’s not a little.”

“I’m fine, mum, I promise,” he half lied placing his phone on the side table face up.

“You’re not. How could you be fine? The first woman you’ve allowed yourself to fall in love with in years has done a flip and turn because of your actions.”

His brow rose, “What?”

“Acceptance of one’s actions is important, Lewis. I have always taught you that.”

“Naw. Nope, I didn’t do this. I didn’t make this happen. She is a distrustful person.” He sat up straighter then, “I worked my butt off to show her she could trust me, to show her that I wanted her and only her.”

His mother shook her head about that. “If you’re still doing the things you know are triggers for her, how are you proving anything?”

He looked at her incredulously. He knew she liked you a lot and had grown closer to you over the past months, but he didn’t know when she’d completely jumped on your ship while abandoning his.

“Mum, I can’t control half the things she thinks,” he pleaded.

“The pictures Lewis. The pictures and your choice of words.”

He sighed then because he knew that she’d talked to you already. He was tempted to ask his mother for the play-by-play, but he decided against it knowing she probably wouldn’t go for it.

“It was innocent. It was work.”

“Did you tell her that? You know someone sent her those pictures? Someone wanted to start problems and it was too easy because you helped them along.”

“I tried to tell her, but she basically called me a liar. She looked me in my eyes and decided not to believe me. Plus it’s a lot more than she ever afforded me. She’s photographed with a lot of guys all the time; some work, some not, she doesn’t explain any of it to me, yet I trust her enough to believe it’s not something wild or disrespectful. Yet when it comes to me, I’m automatically the knob.”

“Lewis,” she warned.

He raised his hand, sighed out then leaned back in the chair.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before he continued. “She treats me like an option mum--a bloody option. This whole year, the 9 we’ve been together and the 3 it took to claim her, I’ve treated her like my only choice.”

The truth to those words was a truth he’d buried deep. His mother reached over and took his hand.

“Sweetie,” she began.

He knew what was coming, knew she was either going to defend you or try to soothe the pain he felt. He didn’t want either.

“She acts like I never said the words.”

Another truth he’d buried. “I said them, I meant them and she--she never said them back, never even acknowledged them.”

That night was still fresh in his mind. The night when his body and heart felt matched perfectly, it was the night he’d said the words he’d felt for weeks and weeks before. He’d stared deeply into your eyes and said them. ‘I love you.’ He’d meant them. He didn’t know he could still truly feel that way about anyone or feel enough to say the words. You’d proven him wrong, and he was cut up because of it.

“Lewis, I’m thrilled that you’ve finally found someone that you want in your life for more than a few months. It makes me so happy that you have found someone to love. She is a wonderful woman, but, who cares what she does? If this is how you feel how you truly feel, if she is who you choose and wholeheartedly want beside you then you are supposed to be with it be about her no matter what.”

“Seriously!? No.”

“That my love, is the difference between a boy and a grown man. A grown man is one hundred percent true to what’s in here,” she reached over then pat his chest just over his heart. “He is about it, and nothing changes it because it does not matter.”

“How—H--how do I do that? How in the world do I put myself out there--,” he voiced before she cut him off.

“--And invite her to break your heart? Is she worth the risk?”

He didn’t want to open his mouth to even answer this. If you weren’t worth it, he wouldn’t have spent so much time perusing you. He never would have made so much of an effort to include you in his world and life, he wouldn’t have waited 6 fucking months to sleep with you so both of you were sure where your hearts were, he wouldn’t have ever told you he loved you. Of course, you were worth it but the memory of the look in your eyes as you spoke to him, the last thing you’d said to him held part of him back.

“I have always been and will always be that bitch with or without you.”

That coupled with the way you looked at him just before the elevator doors closed held him back.

“Lewis!”

“I—I don’t—I don’t know anymore.”

He rubbed his forehead. “I thought I knew, thought I was so sure, I was sure, but--I don’t.”

This was fucked, he thought as he felt his mother’s eyes boring into him. When she stood she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him as she did when he was a child after a spill. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out while he relished this comforting embrace. It was in his mother’s loving and judgment-free arms he finally broke letting it all go.

Hours seemed to pass this way, or perhaps it had been just mere minutes. When his sister approached he felt heaps better but his heart was still heavy. A notification from his phone drew his attention as his sister sat on the floor before him. As he checked it, his sister gave her best attempt at a pep talk. Some words he caught others he missed but the sentiment was sometimes time helped people see the error of their ways and come up with ways to fix the errors. He didn’t know if she meant his errors or yours.

He went into his socials DMs and found a message from your best friend. After hesitating for a few moments he tapped into it and found a video. It took him to a recent video that was only available to her close friends. Your face came into view, and he instantly noticed the tears on your cheeks. You held your hand up to block the camera view, but the angle only changed.

“When bestie is tired of frontin' for the gram with the having the time of my life posts and allows herself to be sad and you gotta cheer her up,” your best friend said.

“Stop. You can’t record me like this. I’m not sad,” you protested.

“No?”

You were quiet for a few seconds. “No.”

Your voice was clouded as if your throat was tight words struggled to make it through. “Not sad—really, really sad,” you said voice a sobbing whine.

Fuck, he thought. He hated seeing you cry.

“What—what do I—do I do now?”

“Allow yourself to feel it,” your friend suggested.

You sobbed some more, and he watched your friend hug you before the video ended. So many things flew through his mind but the two things that kept coming around. The first was how much he missed you.

The second, you were worth it.

~~~~~~

-Y/N-

Everyone said that the first month of a breakup was always the hardest and those words were proving true. Since those elevator doors had closed you’d done everything to keep yourself moving. You piled on work to make sure you had no free time to sit and think. However, that didn’t quite work because wherever you went, something reminded you of him. Either it was a café or a location you went to for a shoot, or even something you ate. You nearly threw yourself into the ocean when one of the set interns brought you a glass of Almave.

When work didn’t prove successful, you picked yourself and your friends up for a girls’ trip to a faraway island. You drank, partied, and posted it all on your socials hoping you could fake it till you made it, but the faking became too much. By nightfall every night, you wallowed with a bottle or two of wine.

While you were beyond pissed at Lewis you also knew that picture was sent to you on purpose. You weren’t an idiot and had dealt with plenty of conniving, duplicitous bitches in your days. You knew someone was trying to fuck with you and start shit and you were giving them what they wanted. That didn’t matter because none of that changed the content of the photo.

Every time you came back to that no matter how much of your anger had dissipated, it all came back with that one nugget of fact. It was straight-up disrespect. If the tables had been turned and it was you, Lewis would have made a huge fuss over it by being extra petty. You refused to believe you were in the wrong, but several bits of your interaction tried to come through to show you had been in the wrong for a few things.

You were a passionate person and usually when arguing that passion shines through and oftentimes you get reckless at the mouth not caring how your words are thrown together or the force of those words. You knew you fought dirty; it was the only way you knew how. You blamed it on the years of living a single and independent life after one of the worst breakups of your life. It had caused more damage than good. You’d had no one to answer to, no one to consider or consult and you oftentimes still lived there in your head. It was a major switch to flip and a switch you failed, more times than you liked to admit, to flip.

You knew that night you’d said whatever came to mind and didn’t care if the words hurt. In fact, you said some things to cause pain and that was the source of your regret. Lewis had often told you throughout your 9-month relationship that your mouth would get you in trouble in more ways than one. He’d warned you about your recklessness and told you he wouldn’t stand for it because if he really wanted he could get just as reckless as you.

That was one of the things you loved about him. He wasn’t afraid to call you out on your bullshit and put you in your place when you got into your bad girlfriend mode.

Sighing, you raised the glass of wine to your lips and guzzled until it was empty. Your eyes fell to the now empty wine bottle, and you debated with yourself over getting another. It was the 2nd bottle of the night, and you knew if you got a 3rd you’d have entered lush territory, but you didn’t care enough to resist. So you slinked across the kitchen to the wine fridge and grabbed another bottle of wine, but before you closed it you grabbed one more just in case.

After you’d popped the cork and filled your glass to the brim your phone went off with a security notification. Checking the application, you reviewed the notice of someone entering your code into your security gate.

“What the hell?”

Another notification came in informing you a car was pulling up the drive. You went over the registered movements watching the videos to figure out if you had a security breach or if someone was just showing up unannounced. On the 3rd video, you realized who it was.

“No fucking way.”

You walked out of the kitchen, through your home, and to your front door. Before you got there, the bell rang. Once you turned the corner you saw who it was through the intricately decorated glass doors. Lewis Hamilton. Neither of you moved. You stood there staring at each other. You couldn’t read the expression in his brown eyes, but you could read the dark circles underneath them and his lackluster complexion. He looked slightly sick but also indifferent. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was having as hard a time as you were. You’d purposely stayed off his and his friends' accounts to avoid any excessive thoughts of him.

Lewis didn’t move a muscle, he patiently waited for you to make your move. It was a move you didn’t know how to make. You’d be a liar if you said you hadn’t wanted him to run after you and fight some more, but you also didn’t want to see him again. So one hand itched to grab the knob and open the door for him but the other hand wanted to override the security system and shutter down your house.

You closed your eyes and took several deep breaths giving your body control to see which side won. When your hand wrapped around the knob you wanted to break it. Once you opened the door, you snapped your eyes open.

“What the hell are you doing here? How did you get past my gate?”

Lewis scoffed and slightly shook his head before speaking, “Let me in, Y/N.”

You scrunched your face and doubled down on your annoyance. “What? Not a chance in hell. Answer me. How?”

When your best friend's name came out of his mouth your eyes bugged. There was no way.

“Bullshit! There is no way my best friend would give you my security code for my gate without letting me know. There is no way!”

He looked unamused now.

“Yet she did.”

You studied him still shocked.

“Let me in.”

“No. Why would I do that? We have nothing to talk about.”

“I think we have a lot to talk about.”

You scoffed. “Five weeks too late. Anything I had to say was said already. We’ve both said enough. You should go 44.”

Lewis took a sharp breath in and released it. As it came out it sounded like a hiss. “Oh boy. Y/N, stop talking! For real just stop—fucking talking and let me in!”

“What the fuck?! Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? Do I fucking look like one of your side bitches, or your groupies?!”

From the heat rushing through you, you could tell that your anger was beginning to really boil now. With quick moves, Lewis moved from his side of the door to close the space between you. Before you knew it, he had one of his hands cupping your skull and his lips pressed to yours. Like magic as if on command you stopped moving and any thought of protest faded, hell any thought at all faded.

Lewis’ lips moved against yours in a way you’d found yourself missing the last five weeks. He kissed you like a starved man, like a man who’d come back to claim what was his and your body reacted in the only way it had ever reacted—eager acceptance.

A small whimper escaped you and that was when Lewis backed off. You kept your eyes closed relishing the feelings that had now bubbled up within you, feelings you’d been working overtime to suppress and ignore. One kiss was all it took for the geyser to erupt.

“You talk to fucking much for your own good,” Lewis whispered.

You could feel the whisps of his breath against your face and picked up the scent of mint, and some form of berry. You tried to control your breathing so he wouldn’t see how much he still affected you. Opening your eyes, you peered into his glossy doe ones.

“You’ve said more than enough. I still have shit to say. So listen.”

Lewis then squeezed your hip bringing you back to the present. It was then you realized your body was pressed to his and his hand was gripping you holding you against him controlling your body like he always did. Shit, you thought. You loved when he took control, loved how he always knew how to shut you up when you got into one of your what he would call Y/N fits. Lewis squeezed your hip once more while biting his bottom lip and you wanted to knee him in the balls because of how easy it still was for him to turn you on.

As if he knew it too, Lewis released you as quickly as he’d grabbed you and walked into your house. A shiver rushed through you making you shudder. Asshole, you thought while you closed and locked your door. When turned around he was standing there waiting for you. Rolling your eyes, you led the way back to the kitchen. Once there you grabbed your glass and finished it.

“Speak.”

Lewis scoffed. “Don’t test me, Y/N.”

Clenching your jaw you refilled your glass then watched him with slightly narrowed eyes. You were not going to make any of this easy for him.

“I’m tired of these subs you keep throwing my way. So fucking tired of it. It’s like you enjoy being cold and evil to me and that’s not even cool. I’ve never taken joy in being cold to you.”

Shaking your head you took another sip from your glass.

“I’ve known you for years. Yeah, it wasn’t like we were in the same friend group, but we were cordial. I’ve wanted you the entire time I’ve known you. Yeah, yeah, I was messing with other women throughout that time.”

“Messing? Just say fucking. Call a spade a spade and move the fuck on,” you blurted out.

“Again, stop talking!”

His voice bounced around the kitchen, but you didn’t feel fear. You’d never feared him. You knew he wasn’t one of those men who hit women. That had never and would never be him. Narrowing your eyes, you took a large gulp of your wine, your conflicting feelings wreaking havoc on you.

“You act like you don’t have a past or even things from your past you’re ashamed of. Shit Y/N! I’ve told you I am not that man anymore, I’ve changed.”

“I don’t believe you.”

The silence stretched and you kept your eyes on him. He looked hurt but also frustrated. “I get that, and I’ve been killing myself by doing what I can to prove it to you, to show you I deserve your time.”

Shaking your head you scoffed. “You don’t have to prove shit else, Lewis. I have all the proof I need; I saw it all in that picture!”

“The picture was bullshit. Tell me you don’t get someone is fucking with you.”

“Again why do they want to do that Lewis? Huh! Is it because of your thot ass!”

“Oh my god, here we go again! Stop throwing my past in my face. I’ve owned it and have walked away from it. That picture was bullshit. I was working. What that picture doesn’t show--.”

You grabbed the wine bottle and began walking away. “I don’t give a shit anymore!”

Lewis’ hand wrapped around your wrist stopping your movement. “It was a photoshoot, Y/N. Someone took a picture of an impromptu photoshoot and sent it to you out of context.”

You scanned his eyes for any sign of a lie.

“You’re lying.”

“I have never lied to you. I swear it. You can even go to the brand owner and find out, it’s easy to do.”

You couldn’t believe that. “You’re lying Lewis.”

“I’m not. I told you I would never do some shit like that to you.”

You kept scanning his eyes unable to wrap your head around what he was saying. He had to be lying. Right?

“Look--,” he began dropping his hand and releasing you. With a sigh, he continued, “I came here to give you this.”

He then pulled something from his back pocket and held it out to you. The large brown envelope in his hand looked like doom in the form of an office supply.

“This is the last goddamn time I’m going to have you throw my past in my face. The last fucking time, Y/N. It’s not fair and I shouldn’t have to explain shit to you because this was before you and has nothing to do with us, here or now, but for some fucking reason I feel like I have to, and it irks the shit out of me especially since you don’t give me the same courtesy.”

His words felt like dull blades whipping against your skin. That flared your anger.

“You don’t have to explain shit to me.”

“Shut up!”

That was it. Though you liked it when he stood up to you, you hated feeling this backed into a corner, especially with the truths he’d just dropped.

“Listen, you’re not gonna be--.”

That was all you got out before Lewis’ lips were pressed to yours once again and again everything stopped. His lips manipulated you making you slump back against the wall you hadn’t realized you were pressed to. Lewis’ large hand squeezed your hip once again and you’d never wanted to strip someone more than him right now. When he pulled his lips from yours he kept his forehead to yours.

“You’ve never fucked with a guy like me. I told you that 9 months ago and it’s still true. I’m not going to just let you talk to me any old way. Those other fools were weak as fuck. I’m not weak. I can handle your ass,” Lewis said.

He didn’t need to say shit else because you were now turned the fuck on. Your eyes locked and it took everything in you to remain composed though his lips looked more and more tempting with each passing second.

“Are you listening now?”

You had no words.

“I’m done with that life. It’s boring, it’s old and to be honest it weighs me the fuck down. I want you and it goes past sex, it goes past claiming you or getting a notch, or even letting the world know I got you. None of that matters to me, it never has. I want you. I want Y/N. I’ve been real this entire time.”

Again he pushed out the envelope to you.

“After I give you this it’s all in your hands, your court, your decision. I’ll chase you but I’ll only chase you so far. This is how far.”

Your eyes dropped to the envelope between your bodies, but you didn’t reach for it. You couldn’t. You were actually scared of it and what it may hold. Glancing back at him, you studied his face.

“Your decision, make it. If it’s not me then cool. No hard feelings, we’re still friends and I’ll wish you nothing but the best but,” Lewis paused then cupped your chin as he pressed himself against you more. With his face mere centimeters from yours, he finished, “My lips will not touch yours until you come to me for it.”

Holy shit, you thought to yourself.

“Our next kiss if it’s in the cards will be done by you, not me.”

From the look in his eyes, you could tell he was serious. You could tell he meant this with everything. He was done chasing you, done giving and giving only to have you keep him at a distance. Fuckity, fuck, you thought.

“Are you gonna take it?”

You wanted to shake your head, but you couldn’t move. It was like he was the headlights, and you were the deer. You recognized the fear you felt. You knew it was do or die and you knew this was the moment of truth for your relationship. With what he’d told you about the picture being a set up you were more confused than ever. Rightfully, he shouldn’t even be here right now, not after your conversation before and how it all went down. He was still here trying to get you back.

You slowly took the envelope with a shaky hand, the only tell of your fear. Lewis slowly backed away from you while keeping his eyes on yours. When he was a few feet away he turned and began walking out of the kitchen.

“So that’s it?”

Lewis stopped then looked back at you. His expression was different now. You could tell how hurt he was now, how much you’d hurt him.

“You tell me, Y/N.”

You didn’t know what to tell him, so you didn’t say anything. Lewis nodded, the disappointment filling his eyes before he turned from you and walked away. You stood there listening to him walk through your house, his footsteps getting further and further away. When you heard the door close you released breath you didn’t know you were holding. The notification sounds from your phone told you that he’d driven down the drive and left the property.

It was then you put the envelope on the kitchen counter and took several deep breaths trying to calm yourself. No matter how many breathing exercises you did you still couldn’t calm down. Your mind raced replaying the conversation, dissecting every move, word, and glance, and analyzing it against every other conversation over the last 9 months. When your legs gave way from the weight of it all, you dropped to the floor. One question kept screaming in your head.

Had it all truly been wasted love or was there still hope?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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milkweedman · 2 years

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what do you recommend for dying with beets? Use raw fiber, batts or already spun yarns? Cotton or wool? Do I have to shred up the beets or can I use the juice in the can and eat the beets myself ? Does it smell like beets? Use color fixer or something more natural? Dyou tbink I can like speckle it on an already commercially dyed pink yarn for pops of darker pink? or dip dye it for pink gradients?

Tbh I would recommend absolutely none of this, for the sole reason that beets, like red cabbage and tumeric, do not produce lasting dyes. The colors you get from them don't want to stick to things and even if you do manage to transfer color from the dyebath to your fiber, it will come out pretty quickly (within months at best) and usually the end result is something that kind of just looks stained.

To attempt to answer most of your questions though (which are very good questions, but would be answered with an unequivocal No if you're asking them about beets specifically):

I personally prefer dyeing things as washed fleece (not raw--you need to remove the dirt and lanolin or no dye will stick). It feels safest to me and I enjoy the extra freedom it gives over dyeing as yarn--with dyed fleece I can alter the color just by mixing other things in as I card it, or I can pull out the most vibrantly dyed sections and process them separately for different effects, etc. But it's entirely personal preference, and you can dye either yarn or fiber using natural materials without much difference.

I would not recommend dyeing batts using any traditional dyeing methods (except perhaps solar dyeing, which is very gentle), as the likelihood that you come out of it with a batt that's still spinnable, at least without reprocessing, is definitely lower than with fleece. I have heard of people dyeing batts by cooking them in a tray of dyebath in the oven, but I've never tried it and can't speak to how well it works. Batts should be alright with acid dyes, but natural dyes are (for the most part) not instant and require more time, heat, exposure, etc.

Wool is much easier to dye than cotton. I would always recommend testing new dyeing ideas on wool rather than a plant based fiber if possible.

Dicing or grating the dye material is not strictly necessary but is a good idea for larger or less permeable materials--for example, I don't bother shredding avocado peels because they just don't need it as they're very thin. But I do always chop avocado pits into small pieces, because cooking whole avocado pits is not very energy efficient, and possibly would not get all the dye out.

I definitely would not recommend trying to dye things using cans of food (especially the juice or canning water from said foods). You will get better, more vibrant color with fresh dye materials than with dried or frozen dye materials, and I have to imagine that extends to canned goods as well. Generally you also want to use both the juice and the fruit/vegetable/whatever, as you'll get a lot more color that way. I suppose if you were only dyeing a tiny amount of fiber, just using, say, blueberry juice and keeping the blueberries to continue cooking into jam, you'd be fine. Same if you had tons of blueberries and could easily amass large amounts of blueberry juice. But a definite limiting factor in natural dyeing is the amount of dye material that you can get your hands on, so people usually use all of that material instead of trying to reserve parts of it for eating.

I have never found that the smell of the dye material transfers to wool when it's dyed. Once it's dry it just smells like wool. Not necessarily the case with plant fibers, but I would generally not worry about making your wool smell like food permanently.

I don't know what color fixer is (the only thing with that exact name that came up was a laundry detergent for colored clothes that may have fugitive dyes--definitely do not use this in the place of a mordant), but the majority of natural dyes need things called mordants to adhere the color to the material. The more natural types of mordants are minerals (copper and iron are very commonly used) or tannins (such as from soaking acorns or from walnut hulls). Unless you are using a dye material that doesn't need a mordant (indigo and woad, for example, are well known for not needing mordants--although you also can't just throw them in a pot with water and simmer for a while to extract the dye from them, it's more involved than that. So there are trade offs), you will always need to mordant your fiber to get a good and long lasting color. For example, if you want to dye some wool with yellow onion skins and you don't mordant the wool, you will still end up with dyed wool. But it's a very light wheat color. If you want rich colors, you need to use a mordant.

Natural dyes are not suited for speckling yarns. Acid dyes work great for that, but natural dyes usually require you to fully immerse the fiber in the dyebath, and then expose it to heat over a long period of time. I do know that you can get speckled yarns using resist dyeing methods--essentially, if you take a skein of yellow yarn and tie sections of it very tightly and then dye it all in a red dyebath, you would get a primarily red (or reddish orange, perhaps) yarn with yellow speckles wherever those ties were. So that is one method that you could use to get a speckled yarn with natural dyes. But the method you're suggesting (just speckling it with a paintbrush or your hands for pops of different colors) is not suited to natural dyes. The most likely outcome of that would be no obvious change whatsoever. The second most likely outcome is probably just yarn with intermittent and random stains.

Natural dyes are not suited to dip dyeing, either. I think you could potentially get it to work, or at least get similar effects--you could mordant a piece of fabric/hank of yarn and then cook it in the dyebath like normal except leave part of it sitting next to and above the pot, which would then remain undyed. But whether the yarn would felt or get weird or whether there would be any unforeseen complications, that I don't know. It sounds like a good thing to experiment with once you already have some foundational knowledge of natural dyeing. But I wouldn't recommend it as a first project, for sure.

It sounds like the parts of dyeing that you have an interest in are better suited to acid dyes, so that might be a better route for you to go down ! If you do want to try natural dyes, I would recommend starting out with some good beginner dye materials, such as onion skins (by far the easiest and least bad-smelling dye material I've ever used, this would be my firm recommendation). Another good option would be powdered madder or other powdered dye materials (I specifically say madder, though, because it yields beet reds) that can be done without much fuss.

I hope this was helpful !

#i assume (possibly incorrectly) that was prompted by the comment i made in the tags #about dyeing some yarn with beets for my sweater. but that was like... not actually something i was considering #and more a joke to get 'beet colored yarn' that is not the color of beets but is color FROM beets #which would not be good color. hence the joke #i learnt my lesson about dyeing things with beets as a kid bc the one year my family got tasked with making #the pascha eggs for our church my mom dyed them with beets and guess what happened ?#they were sort of a weird off brown and the color came off every time you touched it and then stained the hands #it doesn't work and shouldnt be tried on anything that you care about or need to get good results with #by all means if youre determined to get good lasting color out of beets give it a few shots #but try it with scrap and in small amounts so that you dont waste the stuff that is almost certainly about to be ruined #by beets.#i do love beets but they dyeing is not among their many uses #natural dye #natural dyeing

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