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the-kr8tor · 8 months

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Loose Thread

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (R is mentioned smaller than Hobie though), food mentions, sexual innuendos, FLUFF.

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CHAPTER 2 >>> CHAPTER 3

You hold onto Hobie's waist like your life depended on it, the wind whips at your face, your cardigan not helping with the cold breeze. Your arms perfectly mold around him, like you're made for each other.

You shut your eyes when Hobie accelerates his bike, the harsh wind kisses your cheeks, making you hide your face behind Hobie's back. Feeling the leather against your skin, you get a whiff of Hobie, he smells like leather and citrus, the familiarity of it relaxes you, your hold on him eases a bit.

Hobie feels your hold on him waning, he slows down before tapping on your thigh, bringing you back on earth. "Don't tell me you're falling asleep" He yells, staring at you through his side mirror. Your face pops out, peeking behind his back.

"No, I'm not" you wrap your arms around him tighter, intertwining your fingers with each other. Making yourself his personal seatbelt.

"Sure," he revs up the engine, you yelp when he drives faster, weaving through traffic. You're sure he broke some traffic laws.

Despite the threat of possibly getting arrested, you squeal. Hobie stops abruptly, bumping your head on his back, Hobie's free hand holds your back so you won't get thrown off, the awkward angle making his shoulder ache. He doesn't care for the discomfort though as long as you don't turn into a street pancake.

"Hobie!" You yell, your arms let go of him, slapping his back with your palm "I almost flew off!"

"I'm holding on to you aren't I?" He says in between laughs, as you smack his back a few more times, he's wearing leather, this is definitely hurting you more than it's hurting him.

You stop when your hand stings, but you don't give him much reprieve when you pinch the back of his hand that's still holding on to you.

He brings his hand back at lightning speed, "I just saved your ass, and this is how you repay me?"

"You drive like a maniac! You could get hurt, Hobie!"

"You liked it" he taps his helmet with his knuckles "besides, I'm wearing a helmet" Hobie hitches his leg up, getting off the motorbike.

You stay seated, arms crossed around you, you glare at him. "Not the point"

"Alright, would you get off?" He extends you a hand, helping you.

You hold his outstretched hand, making goosebumps appear on your arms, you slap his hand away when your feet hit the ground, hiding how a simple helping hand makes you feel.

"I'm serious Hobie, Be careful next time, please"

"I will, promise" he can't help surrendering to you, especially when you look up at him like that, your eyes gleaming with determination. If only he could just quickly lean down maybe he can–

Hobie quickly stops his train of thought, bringing his hands over to the clasps of your helmet, taking it off for you.

His fingers graze your chin and neck, making your breath hitch in your throat. He sees you swallow, neck bobbing up and down. Hobie takes his eyes off your skin, clearing his throat.

"Hold still, I'm trying to fix your hair" you pause, actually holding still for him. Hobie tucks it behind your ear, his fingers stay a few seconds longer on the shell of your ear. The cold rings on his fingers are a stark contrast to your heated skin. You stare up at him the entire time, waiting for something. He doesn't take that step, instead Hobie hands the helmet back to you, before he takes his off.

One day all these lingering looks and soft touches will finally break the dam, spilling your affections for each other that's been festering for a decade inevitably take over. Hobie knows once you both cross that line, there's no turning back. He won't risk it, afraid of ruining your friendship for something he's not a hundred percent sure about, he obviously can't read your mind, so until you vocally tell him you like him, he won't cross that line. Hobie sometimes thinks he's delusional, reading your concern for something romantic and not completely platonic on his end. You're best friends of course you would be concerned for him.

Meanwhile, you share the same sentiment, waiting for those words that you've been waiting for to come from Hobie. You see your relationship like a loose thread, just one tug and everything will unravel. Either making or breaking everything you've built with him.

So you're stuck in a perpetual cycle of mutual pining, waiting for the right time to say it, and yet too afraid to cross that thin line of friendship into something more.

You scratch at a peeling sticker on your helmet. Your eyes downturned. The cherry red color of your helmet compliments his jet black one, yours is covered in various stickers you've collected over the years, some cutesy, some you've nicked from Hobie's stash. His helmet is absolutely covered in band stickers, some random ones he picked up from different places; there's no coordination where he placed them. There's a few scattered ones where you sneakily placed your own stickers, adorable looking ones in a sea of punk. The helmets do a good job representing you both.

"Alright, this is the place" he takes his wicks out of the ponytail. Showing you the name of the place.

"Aunt Janet's fabric store?" You read the sign out loud.

"Heard this place from a friend who does that thing where you dress up as a character"

"Cosplay?"

"Yeah that, he said this place sells fabric for cheap. Said this place was a 'hidden gem'" Hobie makes quotation marks with his fingers. "Might help with your project" the way you're staring at him, makes him doubt himself by bringing you here, what was he thinking?

You snort "well, let's see about that" you grin, taking his worry away.

Hobie opens the door for you, the bell jingling, signaling your arrival. The inside looks bigger than you thought. The walls are lined with multitudes of fabrics, all in different colors and types, some shiny and metallic, some sheer.

"Wow, they've got everything" you look at a random fabric, your eyes land on the tag. "Holy shit!" You look at Hobie, pointing at the price tag "is this real?"

"Is that cheap for that kind?"

"Duh-doy!" You point at the price again, almost fifty percent off the usual fabric you buy in your regular store.

"Dork" Hobie flicks your forehead, "let's look around, yeah?" He moves through the store.

"Am I dreaming? Oh my gosh! Look at this one!" You squeal when you see a dark fabric embroidered with flowers, Hobie watches you fangirl over cloth, a lopsided smile on his lips. You gasp "it's sixty percent off!" Feet bouncing excitedly.

"You want me to flick you again? Just to make sure you're not dreaming" Hobie leans on a display, toppling a dozen rolled up fabrics. It crashes loudly on the tiled floor, making you stare wildly at Hobie, he stares back at you, eyes wide, should you make a run for it?

"Shit" you both say simultaneously.

"What was that?" A third voice rings out from the back of the store, a tapping sound comes closer to your frozen bodies.

You grab Hobie's arm, Hiding behind him.

A small woman with a cane rounds the corner, "Oh, what happened here" for dramatic effect, a rolling green fabric stops near her cane. She has thick eyeglasses, her colorful clothes grabs your attention, she rests her hands on her cane, eyes turned curiously to the both of you. She reminds you of a fairytale grandmother, only this grandma might make you pay for damages. "Well? They can't talk for you" she gestures towards the fallen merchandise.

"I leaned against the shelf, sorry. I–" He pushes you out from his back to face the woman. " – we'll fix it, don't worry"

"You better, these old bones can't lift those up" she sweetly smiles.

"We're really really sorry, um?" You ask for her name.

"It's Aunt Janet for you sweetheart"

"Wow, you're the Aunt Janet! It's my first time here, I love your store!" You excitedly say, Hobie raises a brow at you, it's like you're meeting a celebrity.

"Aww thank you, honey. Come with me, I have new fabrics sent in a few days ago, you look like a lace kinda gal" you nod enthusiastically. Aunt Janet gestures for you to go over to her side. You dodge rolls of fabric on the floor, careful not to step over them. "As for your boyfriend, he has a lot of work to do," she laughs at Hobie.

You correct her, as to not make things awkward for the both of you later "oh, he's my best friend, actually"

"Mm-hmm sure, 'best friend' y'know that's how my husband and I used to call eachother" she leads you farther into the store.

You crane your neck behind you, looking apologetically at Hobie. You have a silent conversation with him, while Janet leads you.

He makes a rectangle with his hand, his index finger poking a hole in it. You owe me.

You make a number two with your fingers. Two down eight to go. Already dreading what he's gonna ask for in exchange.

Hobie stares at your retreating back, watching you walk away with a fond smile. Unbeknownst to him, Janet was sneakily watching the interaction.

You and Aunt Janet talk about various things, from facts about different fabrics to your lives. You learned that she did in fact marry her best friend, she even showed you a few pictures (you thought they were adorable) She also told you that the store can sell fabric at a cheap price because she owns the building, also learning that she used to design clothes in her youth, prompting you to tell her that you're a fashion student. Janet talks about her days in the fashion industry, even giving you a few tips.

But of course she asks about you and Hobie, that's inevitable.

"So just best friends huh?" She asks as she gives you another fabric sample, a deep royal blue with a shine on it. "From where I was standing it didn't look like that" she looks at you from the corner of her eyes.

"We've been friends since year six. No offense but you only saw us together for like five minutes"

"Those five minutes were enough for me to see that you're both hopelessly in love with each other, I saw how he looks at you"

You look in between the shelves to see If Hobie heard your conversation. You see him struggling to put together the display, a roll of fabric smacks him right in his face when a shelf topples over. You hear him hiss, immediately wanting to help him.

Janet looks at you with a knowing stare "I know you want to help him" you turn to look at her "trust me I know that look anywhere, I had the same face everytime I look at my best friend"

If she can see that you're absolutely in love with him, why can't he see it for himself?

You clear your throat "thank you, I think I'm gonna help him, before he hurts himself more"

"I mean no disrespect, sweetheart" She taps your foot with her cane "all I'm saying is, it's a rare thing, what you two have. Some people look for it their entire lives, and yet you two already found it. Don't let it pass you by"

"I'm– I don't know" you stammer out.

She nods, grabbing your hand, her hand feels foreign over yours and yet comforting. "One day" you'll know she lets go. Thumping her cane on the floor, "now, you gonna buy something or what?"

You chuckle, as you hear an oof behind the shelves.

—

You give Janet your list of fabrics you're ordering in front of the register, your hand plays with a square sample of a metallic cloth, it feels cold in your hand. Hobie pokes your side, getting your attention, he lays his arm on your shoulder, leaning against you.

"Got it fixed, Aunty" he points behind him with his thumb.

"Good, how's your nose?"

"I'll live" Hobie taps your elbow "Got everything?"

"Hmm? Oh, not yet I've only bought a few that I'm sure I'll use, I'm still not done designing yet, so I still need to come back here" you look up at him, breath warm on his skin.

"Alright, tell me when, yeah? I'll give you a ride"

"You don't have to"

"I want to," He shrugs, avoiding your eyes. Hobie sees Janet stares at you two with a knowing look. He raises a brow.

"This is your total" Janet exhales, showing you what you owe her. "You come back, I've enjoyed our little conversations"

"Thank you" you notice she added another discount on top of the already cheap price but before you could decline it, she gives you a stern look, shutting you up immediately. "Thank you, really. And we'll definitely come back, I mean look at him, I'm gonna need yards of fabric" you give her the bills.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hobie leans slightly away from you, arms still looped over your shoulders.

"It means you're very tall and you need a lot of fabric to cover your tall ass"

Hobie smirks, an innuendo on the tip of his tongue.

Janet cuts him off before he could open his mouth "okay, go flirt somewhere else. You're getting too sweet for my taste"

"I'm not flirting" you simultaneously say, making you look questionably at each other.

"Thank you, come back anytime" Janet smiles sweetly, practically pushing you two out of her store.

—

You grab the paper bag from the cashier, a quick thank you thrown their way. Walking outside you spot Hobie immediately. He's leaning against his bike, hands tucked inside the pocket of his leather jacket, smoke bellowing out from his lit cigarette. Hobie looks cool without even trying, looking like he came out of a magazine. He quickly flicks his cigarette over to the nearby trashcan when he sees you.

You set the bag on the bike's seat, grabbing his shawarma, handing the hot food over to him. "You got my chips?" He asks, peeking inside the bag.

"Our chips" you bite a piece of fry.

"Don't eat it all" He grabs your hand that's holding the half-bitten chip, bringing it closer to his mouth, you play tug of war, pulling your hand back. But he's too strong for you, he ends up almost biting your finger off, leaving some of his drool over your fingers.

"Ack! Hobie, come on, that's disgusting!" You try to wipe your hand over his shirt, but he dodges you last second.

"That's what you get for eating my chip" he steps back when you try to come near him again, a lopsided smile on his lips.

"I bought them" you say matter-of-fact.

"I punched out my card for it" he bites into his shawarma.

You narrow your eyes at him "ass"

"Love" that sounded a lot sweeter in his mind, but he's still chewing his food so it came out muffled, sounding a bit like 'calf'. But you still understood it, you wiped your hand over some napkins in defeat.

Hobie comes closer to you, you're both leaning on the side of his bike, taking bites of your own food. You watch as the sky slowly turns orange, the late afternoon sun glowing on your face.

Hobie watches as your eyes glimmer in the light, taking his breath away. He can't help but take your attention away "Oi, tell me about your project again?"

You knit your brows in confusion "wait, you went with me, without understanding the full thing?"

"Well, you did rush it out last time"

You sigh, not in exasperation but because of his overflowing fondness for you. He accepted your terms without understanding the full extent of your project, he trusts you that much. He just understood that you needed his help with a project, and he accepted, well the favour card helped. But still he agreed.

"We have to make this look, um, outfit, that is the perfect blend of both our styles. And you have to model it in front of everyone" you explain the gist of it.

"A perfect blend of each other huh? so basically we're making our kid then, yeah?"

"That's a weird way of putting it, but yeah I guess so, aren't you worried about modeling?"

"Don't worry about the modeling part, have I ever told you I got scouted once?"

"Hobs, I was there" you reminded him. "You told the guy to fuck off back to his mother" you chuckle remembering the memory.

"That was a good day" He grabs a chip from the bag, "I've got you, yeah? 'm not letting you fail"

"I know you do" you sip at your drink, hiding your shy smile.

—

You step on a stool to reach the top of Hobie's head, the wood wobbles, making Hobie protectively hold your waist. You can feel his warm hands over your blouse.

"I've got you" He watches as you take measurements of his head with a tape measure "please don't tell me you're gonna give me a bloody hat"

Various conversations from your classmates can be heard but you ignore them, focusing only on Hobie.

"Maybe" you smirk at him, "you've got a big head, Hobs"

"Y'know what they say about men with big heads" he loops his thumbs on your belt loops, playing with the rough denim.

"Please don't finish that"

"What? I was about to say we have big brains, what were you thinking 'bout?" He tilts his head, you move him back to place, your hand over his jaw, making him look up.

"Nothing, I was thinking the same thing" you quip as you measure his neck, the tape is cold over his warm skin.

"Sure" he peeks down at you, the tip of your tongue poking out from your slightly parted lips. He exhales "you almost done?"

You scoff "we just started, Hobie. What, you got places to be?"

He rolls his neck when you finally let go. "Band practice" he lies.

"I'll try to be quick then" you hop off the small stool, Hobie helps you down, still grasping your hips. "What size suit do you wear?"

He scrunches his nose "do I look like I wear bloody suits?"

"Right, stupid question" you straighten out your tape measure. "Size of your shoes then?"

Hobie smirks, a quip already on his lips.

"Don't, you already tried that" you point at him. He shuts his mouth playfully, mimicking closing an invisible zipper over it. "Size shoes please" you slap his chest lightly.

He dramatically shrugs, mouth still tightly closed.

"Don't make me take your shoes off" you bunch his shirt in your hand, playfully threatening him. He finds it adorable, he can't help teasing you more.

"Guess"

"Guess?" Your eyes widen at the double meaning of what he's asking. Knowing him, If you answer with a size too small, he's gonna be a brat about it the entire time. But if you answer with a size too big, the size of his ego will triple in magnitude, making him an absolute menace. It's a lose-lose situation. You have to guess correctly.

"What will it be, lovey?" He looks at your thinking face, a knot on your forehead, lips pursed.

You choose neither "I'm not answering that, just wear your own bloody shoes" you pat yourself on the back internally, outsmarting Hobie.

"You're no fun" despite his disappointed words, his large grin betrays his true feelings. "Cheeky" he scoffs, waiting for your reaction.

"Mm-hmm" you tap his arm with your pencil, "lift your arm, please" you bend his raised arm at his wrist, making a half ballerina stance. You choose to ignore his last comment, rolling your eyes, putting a stop to your back and forth.

Hobie watches you measure his arm, your knuckles brush against his warm skin, you take notice of the goosebumps blooming on his skin, choosing to ignore it, avoiding another back and forth teasing, this time coming from you.

"Right" you take the pencil from where you've placed it on your ear, scribbling his size on your sketchbook. You brush away the various papers and tools littered over your table. Hobie brings his long arm down for a second before you put your hands over both, raising them to his sides.

"You done yet?" Hobie's getting antsy, especially when you hold him so tenderly. It's not like he doesn't like it, it's just that he wants to get it over with so his heart will stop thumping so fast against his chest. He's sure you're gonna give him a heart attack any second now.

The classroom's noise fades out in the background.

"Not even close, Hobs" you scribble down the words 'chest and waist'. Hobie sees it, legs bouncing so he has an excuse when you feel his heartbeat while measuring his chest. "Hobie, stop moving or I'll have to start again" you stretch the tape over his chest, sure enough, you can feel how fast his heart's pounding. Shit you gotta finish this fast, or you'll be a goner.

You quickly jot the information down, clearing your throat. Bending down slightly, you hug him, pulling the tape over his waist, face almost completely over his stomach. Hobie feels the dam cracking.

"Sorry, I just gotta" you point down, too awkward to tell him what you have to do.

"Sure" Hobie nods, not completely understanding what you meant. He should've asked though.

Hobie doesn't like not moving, but when you fully kneel in front of him, embracing him again, pulling the tape over his lower waist, He turns to stone, avoiding looking down at you as you clearly avoid that area.

You've done this a million times before, why is it when it comes to Hobie everything seems to leave you flustered?

You look up at him through your lashes, blinking slowly "is this okay? Tell me if you're uncomfortable and I'll stop, okay?"

"I'm fine, it's fine" Hobie avoids your gaze, he plays it off nonchalantly, inside he's burning, he hides his shaking hands behind him.

Hobie watches the white ceiling instead, focusing on listening to your classmates' conversations to trick his mind from thinking something inappropriate. He finds out your classmate just bought their first car, good for them, he thinks.

Hobie exhales a trembled breath when you wrap the tape over his thigh. You can feel his muscles tensing at the contact. You bite your lip, trying to focus on finishing it up.

He just learned that one of your classmates' name is Hannah, and she apparently likes shepherd pie– Hobie closes his eyes when your hand grazes his hip again, the tape falling on the length of his leg.

"Almost done, you okay?"

Hobie looks down, that was a mistake on his end. He almost chokes on his own spit. Be a fucking adult, it's just her. He curses himself, that's the problem though, it's you, isn't it?

You feel hot, seeing how he looks down at you, his lips slightly parted. You shake your thoughts, That's your best friend you moron! Stop!

" 'm fine" Hobie's proud of himself for managing to say something. He feels bad, you're acting like a professional and he's a mess, heart stuttering with every contact.

You stand up, knees creaking. You're not even done measuring him yet, maybe you could just estimate the rest? He's fine having loose clothes right?

"Right, uh, I need to meet with you again, bang out some– I mean brainstorm some ideas" you change your choice of words so fast, already learning your lesson from last time. It doesn't go unnoticed by Hobie though.

Still reeling from a second ago, Hobie clears his throat, he internally fights with himself, whether or not to tease you with your first choice of word. "Of course, just let me know" He decides not to tease you more, if he chose to say it, he might end up flustered too. But his last sentence sounded too formal, a consequence of his (still) fogged up mind.

"I've already submitted the first rough sketch to Mrs. Williams, so we're good" you awkwardly make a double thumbs up.

"Yours or my place?" He blurts out.

"Uh, yours if that's okay? My dorm doesn't allow visitors staying late so"

"That's fine then, just don't come over too early" you both sound like you're acquaintances, oh Hobie hates this, this is exactly what he was avoiding.

You take notice of the mood change, so you try to break the ugly vibe permeating from you both.

"I'll bring the food" you say in a sing-song voice, bumping the tip of your shoe over his boots.

"And drinks?" Hobie raises a brow. Tricking you to use one of his favours without punching a hole in your card.

"And drinks" you sigh defeated, it's the most you can do after making him uncomfortable, in your mind at least. For Hobie it was far from uncomfortable, he felt like he was drowning, your touch the only thing bringing him back to the surface. It was the most pleasant thing, if only it didn't end with you both being awkward towards each other.

"Deal"

You shake his hand, doing your old secret handshake with him, your mind drifting off in the past.

You were this close from unraveling the thread that binds you both, good thing you stopped tugging at it. Hobie can see the fissures you've left on the dam.

A/N: Sorry this took a while. Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated ❤️

*pictures above are from pinterest*

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the-kr8tor · 7 months

Text

Threaded Through

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 6.7k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, No specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Hobie is mentioned taller than R, CW food mention, Drinking, CW spiders, TW arachnophobia, Suggestive content, Fluff.

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CHAPTER 9 >>> CHAPTER 10

"Hobie!" You whisper yell, "what are you doing?" Eyes scanning the dark, ears perking up at the chains rattling.

"Relax, no one's here" Hobie slips through the metal gate where the chains of the lock stretched enough to give him room to wiggle himself inside. "C'mon then" he extends his hand to you, flexing his fingers impatiently. The dirty sign on the gate reads 'no trespassing' adding to your worry.

You tap your foot, biting your lip, looking behind the abandoned theme park. "Nuh uh, nope" shaking your head, you're sure something ran past behind a decrepit tent. "I'm not dying inside the old carnival! Let's just go back to the party"

"That party sucks, they're playing spin the bottle, bloody original of 'em" he scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Besides we've got the good booze" sure enough, Hobie brings out a bottle of vodka tucked inside his zipped leather jacket. The liquid swishes inside as he shakes it for good measure.

"Where'd you even get that?" You laugh, surprised, eyes twinkling in the moonlight.

"Brent's dad's liquor cabinet" he says, a smug smile on his lips. "Come the fuck on, I'm freezing my balls off" Hobie lifts up the chains as far as it would allow so you could duck under it.

"We have exams on Monday!"

"Easy enough, it's all just stock knowledge" he points at his temple.

"For you it is. I'm not like you, I actually need to revise."

"And you will, Come on" Hobie sees you sticking to your stance, sighing. "If i help you revise tomorrow will you come inside?"

"Fine, I'll blame you if we get murdered by a killer clown" You duck under while Hobie's hand shields your head from the rusty metal.

"I can take him–" Hobie stops mid sentence as you stand to your full height, face mere inches away from him. So close he can see every detail of your face, how the light bounces off your eyes, clouds of air puffing out of your lips. His breath hitches in his throat.

"You and those skinny arms? Don't think so, Hobs" you try to play it off, lips pursing closed, trying to even out your breathing. "Where to go next?" You chuckle nervously, stepping away from him, taking in his sudden silence as him being uncomfortable.

"I've been eyeing that ferris wheel" Hobie shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. He walks side by side with you, keeping you close. In case there is a killer clown on the loose.

Eyes on the rickety ride. "God, no! That thing hasn't been working since the eighties, you wanna kill us?" You didn't notice that Hobie's not next to you anymore, whirling, you look for him. "Hobie? Hobie! What the fuck?" Hugging your bubble jacket closer to you in comfort. "It's not funny, Hobart!" Yelling out, you have a sudden urge to run away, but you don't, not intending to leave him.

You jump when lights suddenly turn on, blinking at you. Colorful bulbs do their best to stay on after not being used for years. You gasp out, laughing breathlessly. The place doesn't seem so scary now. You half expect the speakers to come back to life, but it doesn't, the only noise is from the whirring of the old generator and crickets singing in the dark.

Hobie lingers on the side, bottle in hand, completely enthralled with you bathed in light. A love sick smile stuck on his face.

"Hobie! Holy shit" noticing him, you call out to your best friend, waving your arms in delight.

He saunters to you, absolutely smug, you scoff playfully at his ego. "Let's hear it" Hobie brings his hand to the shell of his ear, acting like he can't hear you.

"What do you want me to say? Good job?"

"How 'bout 'You're the man, Hobie!' Or just start showering me with praises"

"I'll shower you with that vodka if you don't stop"

"Rude of you to assume I wouldn't actually like that"

You shove him lightly, "Good job flicking a switch, Hobart"

"Oi, I had to figure out which switch to open"

Rolling your eyes, you grab his arm, putting a stop to your bickering, if you don't you two would've gone all night. Leading him further inside, Hobie slyly moves his arm so he could hold your hand instead, you pretend to not notice, finding the lights to be the most interesting thing in the world, your hand cups his warm ones, squeezing it lightly.

Friends do this too, right?

Hand in hand, you stop at a booth that looks like it was for some kind of carnival game. Cartoon clowns lined up on the far back, mouths open. There's still some stuffed toys hanging on the side of the booth albeit too dirty or broken to take with you.

"Oh man, I wanted one" You pout, leaning on the divider to check for better looking toys. Hobie copies your movement, rummaging behind the counter.

Something hits your head with a squeak, you glare at Hobie acting nonchalant, feigning innocence as he examines a soft ball. You bet that it squeaks when squeezed.

"Oh 'kay" you bite your lip, blindingly reaching out towards the first thing you touch, unfortunately for Hobie it was a crusty plushy, aiming for his head, it hits him square on the chest, leaving grime and cobwebs all over his jacket.

You laugh loudly as he wipes wildly at his clothes, yelping when his hand touches something wet.

"Disgusting!" Hobie has an idea, he extends his arms towards you for a hug, taking small strides. "Come here, lovey" with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a lopsided smile, he closes the distance.

"No, don't even think about it!" Walking backwards with a smile, your back hits a pole. "Ack!" You screech when he embraces you, warmth and his familiar scent wafts your senses. A giggle escapes you, making Hobie hug you tighter.

"Now we both smell" you try to wiggle out of his hold, Hobie shakes you from side to side, you go dizzy in his arms, going limp, feigning hurt. "Oi," he shakes you lightly, chuckling at your antics. "She's dead, I can finally sacrifice her to the clowns" he moves you towards the cartoon clowns.

You drag your feet, he carries your full weight. "A little help here?" Hobie asks, you open one eye only to tightly close it again. "I'm tryin' to appease the gods here y'know" he says in between laughs, flicking your forehead.

"Really clown gods? Could've chosen better ones" you smile giddily up at him, he beams back at you, cradling the back of your head.

He scoffs, "or a much more willing sacrifice" Hobie straightens you out, fixing the collar of your jacket. You let out a small thank you, hot where his fingers grazed your skin.

"I saw somethin' better than the ferris wheel" he mumbles out.

"Yeah? Let's go then" taking his hand in yours you loop your pinky finger with his. Hobie leads you with a wobbly smile.

—

Hobie helps you up on the large Gondola, an out of commission viking ride that's supposed to swing up and down, now it's inoperable, looking glum amidst the twinkling lights. A wooden mermaid is carved on its bow, marred by time and exposed to the elements. It must've been a sight back then.

Using your foot as leverage, Hobie lifts you up by your hand, "I've got you" he heaves, your foot loses balance on the edge, threatening to fall off. "Shit!" Gasping out, you reach for his neck as he panics to grab a hold of you.

"I have you—Holy fuck!" Hobie secures you by your waist, your eyes tightly closed, head right on the crook of his neck. "You okay?" He places you back on solid ground, the ride creaks in the wind.

"Yeah," you exhale a shaky breath. Pulling away. "I'm gonna need that vodka" sitting down on the boat, you gesture towards the bottle on the floor. It wasn't even a far fall if he didn't catch you, but the thought of you getting hurt sounded alarms in his head.

Hobie snickers, he opens the bottle before he hands it to you, fingers touching yours for a split second. It's more than enough to warm his skin, not needing the alcohol to heat him up anymore. You take a sip whilst Hobie lounges to the seat in front of you, arm stretched on the back of it, long legs propped up next to your lap.

The moon casts him in a dark shadow, his newly pierced ears glinting in the moonlight, he looks ethereal this way, divine and out of reach. The lights whir, having a hard time lighting the old place.

You do the same to him with a smirk, legs right next to his jeans, taking a swig while your eyes stay to him. The warm liquid slides to your throat, warming you immediately.

You have no idea the effect you have on him. Hobie clenches his fists, breathing staggered, eyes flickering to your lips. It's not your intention though, you just wanted to show off that you can take your alcohol.

Hobie taps your thigh with his boot, clearing his throat before talking, "you're gonna drink all of it" He takes the bottle from your hand as you cough loudly. "That's what you get for hoarding all the vodka" chastising you, he leans to pat your back with a lot of effort on his part, almost folding himself in half.

"Fuck, that's– whew" your face all scrunched up, regretting your choices. Coughing again, your throat burns.

"You good, Gromit?" He asks with a laugh.

"Did you bring water with you?" Tears prick your eyes, sniffling.

"No, didn't think to" Hobie says apologetically, he winces when you let out another cough.

"You could've grabbed a bottle? I feel like my throat has razor blades in it" clearing your throat, you knead at your neck.

"Your fault, love. I didn't dare you" He takes a sip, taking your slight cough as a cautionary tale.

"Why'd you take us to this death trap anyway? Wait, did you plan this?" You look at him with a raised brow, realization hitting you.

"Nah, I told you the party was boring me to death" he lies, but you know him too well, noticing his tells. The slight bob of his adam's apple, eyes flicking to the side of your face for a split second, fingers itching at the back of his hand. You don't mention it or even tease him about it, intending to enjoy your time together.

"Yeah, going to jail for underage drinking and trespassing sounds better" you laugh, Hobie brings his feet to your lap, soles grazing your jacket. To his surprise, you don't protest. Legs parallel to each other, you play with the aglet of his boots.

"No one goes here except for teenagers wanting a place to snog" he regrets his words immediately, his ears feel like it's about to burst into flames.

You look at him with a growing smirk, with the alcohol coursing through you, it gives you liquid courage when you say the next words. "You planning on snogging me here, Hobs?"

Hobie almost spit takes at your question, he answers with the same bravado, shyness nonexistent as he feels his skin warm up from the alcohol. "If I'm gonna snog you, we would be in a better place than this rust bucket"

Instantly sobering up, you blink in surprise, chuckling nervously. Biting more than you can chew, your eyes try to avoid his lips.

Sitting in an awkward silence, Hobie takes another swig, you hug your torso from the biting cold. The tension is thick, his legs sit heavy on your lap. He notices these kinds of silences have increased these last few years, Hobie hopes it's not because you're pulling away from him or worse, him pushing you away with his growing affections.

You finally try to cut the tension, "Can we–" Hobie thought of the same, unintentionally cutting you off.

"I'm–shit. Sorry, go on" He really wants to hear what your next words will be, it could either cross the line between your friendship into something more. Hobie anticipates, hanging to every syllable you would utter.

"Can we go home? This place kinda gives me the creeps" He did not expect that, "the lights help but now some of them are flickering and it's like something's gonna come out" biting your lip, you look at Hobie directly.

The only reason you want to go is to get rid of the awkwardness, blaming the dark yet romantic atmosphere. You want to stay, you really do, but if the air stays like this between you, you'd rather go home. Save yourself the embarrassment of pining for your best friend. Guess Hobie isn't the only one lying tonight.

"Yeah, sure" He sits up, dejected, legs retreating back to him.

"Sorry, what was it you're gonna say?" Leaning your elbows on top of your thighs, you take the bottle from Hobie, getting his attention.

He sighs, you see a rare sight. He looks somewhat afraid. Why would Hobie be afraid though? It's just you.

You try to encourage him with a joke, "you feeling okay? You look constipated, is it the vodka?" He chuckles, you stand up, mirroring his small smile.

But that's the thing, it's you, a few years ago his little crush turned into puppy love, and that love turned into full blown yearning, longing for you to see him as something else other than your 'best mate' at first he thought it was just a phase, muddled with his teenage hormones, latching to the closest person he feels attracted to. Then it persisted, he realized that his deep affection for you was something else entirely other than some hormone induced crush.

It was safe to say Hobie hated puberty.

He bites the bullet, if he's gonna tell anyone it would be you. "I'm leaving school"

"Oh" dropping down from the gondola, you hide your frown. He's leaving, he's leaving you. Hands shaking at the thought, you mindlessly walk away, following the brightest thing in the carnival. "Why are you leaving?" Trying to hide the shakiness of your voice, you wring your hands together, taking another sip of the warm liquid.

Is it you? Did you cross the border too much? Is he sick of you? The cold doesn't help with your thoughts.

"I don't like school, you know that" Hobie watches your retreating form, he knew you wouldn't take it well but it still hurts when you turned your back on him. "Y/n" he calls out as you step on the carousel.

Turning around, his explanation calmed you down a smidge. You try to fix your expression. The bright lights of the carousel envelopes you, a halo forming around your body. You give him your hundred dollar smile.

"Okay, just don't forget me when you're famous" laughing dryly, Hobie joins you in the light, taking your shaking hands.

Knowing you for a long time, he reads you like an open book, looping his pinky with yours, Hobie looks at you straight on.

"I'm staying in the city, just not at school. 'm not leaving" you, he wanted to add but he's not brave enough to say the word.

Inhaling, you focus on the horses instead of his hold on you. "You should've led with that," you say with a tight lipped smile, extending your encouragement to him, you swallow your sadness. "I'm proud of you, if anyone's gonna make it out there it would be you" finally looking at him, gold bounces off his iris, honeyed flecks dancing in his eyes. "You can go on tour if you want to, you don't have to stay in the city" with me, the words echo in your mind.

Telling the absolute truth, your face is serious, hiding the ache. You will always be supportive of him even if it means leaving you in the process.

"Well we have to build our reputation first before goin' on tour," Hobie sways your intertwined hands. "Besides, my number one fan is here, who's gonna cheer us on?" He gives you his best smile, the same one that haunts your dreams.

Legs wobble from under you, leaning towards him, Hobie's eyes widen at your movement.

You embrace him, head laying on his broad shoulder. Mind reeling, you can't help but feel you're holding him back from doing greater things.

A sharp whistle pulls you away.

—

Hobie opens his eyes, back aching from the lumpy settee, his right arm practically numb. He's not usually a morning person, but with you sleeping comfortably in his arms, he wants to wake up earlier just to see this rare sight. Hobie smiles at how relaxed your face is, brows unfurrowed, mouth slightly parted and your skin glistening in the early morning sun. Your back to the couch, squeezed in between him and the settee, Hobie's arm wrapped around your torso, protecting you from the springs protruding from the cushions. Your Hands tucked to his side, fingers curled unconsciously on his shirt.

He doesn't care that his long legs dangle off the armrest, couch too small for his tall stature, or how there's a crick in his neck. Despite it all, Hobie hasn't slept this well in a long time. He's glad last night wasn't all a dream. Gently caressing your cheek with his pinky just to make sure you're actually real in his embrace.

You shift in your sleep, licking your dry lips, inhaling a gulp of air. It's like you're attuned with his senses, already knowing he's wide awake. You fake sleep, acting like you're deep in slumberland. Feeling his chest rise up and down, you can't help but curl your lips into a small smile when he covers his leg over yours, securing you in his hold.

Hobie knows you're awake though, his enhanced senses telling him the shift in your heartbeat and breathing. He's in a good mood so he intends to tease you this morning. Testing to see what your reaction will be in this new found position he has you in.

He tries to leave the couch, carefully taking his arm from under you, leg up, untangling from yours. You immediately protest, grasping his torso with your eyes closed. Pulling him back down to your side. Chuckling at your reaction, butt hitting the cushions with a thud, he slides back down to your side, going back to the same position. Your cheek pressed to his chest as Hobie kneads at the soft skin of your waist.

Still in your outfit, his fingers fiddle with a sunflower stitched to your cami. You lean further into him, arm over his torso, feeling his warmth through his shirt.

You're the first one to speak, sleep still lingering in your voice. "You talked in your sleep"

"And you drooled all over me but no one's keeping track" Hobie's morning voice sounds deeper, goosebumps appear on your skin when you feel the vibration from his chest.

"Hmm" you hum, content in his arms, savoring the precious moment. "I don't drool" cracking one eye open, you fight the sleep off. You rile him up just to hear the deep rumble of his voice.

"There's a wet patch on my sleeve that begs to differ" he says, nuzzling your hair. "What did I say?"

"Hm, you woke me up for a bit when you said clowns and my name. Sounds like you were having a really good dream about me" you take a peek at him through half lidded eyes. Hobie gently rubs the sleep off the corners, you practically vibrate at his touch.

"Well, you are a clown" he quips, you gasp dramatically, grabbing the hem of his shirt, balling it in your fist.

"What did you say? You punk?" Trying to sound as menacing as possible even though you're half asleep, you smile through the threat.

"I said you're gorgeous" his eyes flick to your lips for a second before Hobie gives you his best smile. You feel like a gem in his gaze, letting out a small 'thought so'. "For a clown" he says against your lips, chasing the soft plush of it.

"You–!" Pushing him off the sofa, he laughs all the way down, his butt landing on the floor, back on the foot of the sofa. His hands glued to your waist, almost bringing you down with him. You lay upside down with Hobie's hand on you, his face upturned, inches away from yours.

Pecking the tip of his nose, you don't care for morning breath, with Hobie, nothing embarasses you anymore. He feels the same, leaning up to change the course of your kiss to his waiting lips.

Giggling, you cup his jaw, neck straining to reach him in the upside down kiss. Hobie feels like he's dreaming again.

Before the kiss could go any further, you pull away, already missing his lips. "Can I go shower?"

"Sorry, I should've brushed first" he winces.

"It's not that, we literally made out last night with shawarma breath. I don't give a shit, Hobs" you chuckle, leaving a chaste kiss on his lips for good measure. He grins at your words, "I just really need to get out of these clothes and wash my face"

"Right, You just want to wear my clothes" Hobie flicks your forehead, "perv"

"You're the perv, dreaming about me with clowns and shit" laughing, you sit upright, nudging him with your socked foot.

"Yeah, it was bloody steamy" he riles you up again, it doesn't work this time though.

"Tell me later" walking to the bathroom, you spare him a sly glance over your shoulder.

When did you get so immune to his teasing? Hobie feels he needs to up his game.

—

Hobie scrapes off the egg sticking to the pan, now in his home clothes, a plain band shirt with the sleeves cut off and sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Hissing when hot oil flies towards his hand.

He feels you before he hears you, shutting the bedroom door behind you, the broken answering machine takes your attention from Hobie's toned arms.

Wiping your arms with the towel, you glare at the machine. "What are you planning with this thing?" Gesturing vaguely.

"What thing?" Taking the mugs out of the cabinet, he spares a look behind him. Maybe he shouldn't have. You look right at home, his jumper hugs your torso comfortably, pajama pants that he hasn't worn in a long time fits just right on your waist.

Hobie wants to kiss you as soon as possible. His senses are still a bit wonky, jumping slightly when the bread digs out of the toaster.

"Your machine" moving closer to him, feet padding on the wooden floors, you take the plate full of eggs, scrambled for you, sunny side up for him. "Thanks, Hobs"

"Ah, you forgot somethin'" you hum curiously, letting him turn you back around by your shoulder. Thinking that he might hand you the mugs of tea, instead he kisses your cheek, you squeak out, carefully balancing the plate in your wobbly hand. "There, what's up with the machine?" He goes back to making tea as if he didn't steal a kiss right under your nose. You don't seem to mind though.

"I think you should just throw it out"

"I can still fix it" He pours milk into your cup.

"Hobie, I know you can but that thing is bloody cursed" tone serious, you place the eggs on the kitchen island.

He guffaws at your comment, he can't believe your minds are so in sync with each other, Hobie sometimes feels like you're connected to him.

He still asks you even though he knows your answer, a ploy to keep hearing your voice. "Why do you think it's cursed?"

"Well, you bought it off an estate sale, it's probably haunted by the old owner. Second, it shocked you while you were installing the damn thing." Hands on your hips, you lean on the counter. Hobie snickers at your comments. "And lastly it has committed a crime against us"

Hobie laughs loudly, shaking the boat slightly as he doubles over in laughter. "What's the crime that my machine committed?" Mirroring your stance, he drapes the dish cloth over his shoulder.

You bite the inside of your cheek with how attractive he looks right now. "Sabotage" mumbling it out.

"Sabotage?" Hobie closes the distance, hands lovingly holding your shoulders. You click your tongue, moving his hand from your shoulder up to your jaw before you place your hands back to your hips again.

He tilts his head, thumb circling over to your cheek. "Cursed or not, the thing's expensive. I can still fix it"

"My parents have a spare one, I can nick it for you" biting your lip, you say the next words softly like you're still unsure. "Take it as a housewarming present from me, before I move in?"

Hobie's giddy smile melts your trepidation, leaning in, he stops a few centimeters from your lips. Closing your eyes in anticipation. Your brows furrowed when you don't feel his lips on yours. Cracking your eyes open, you see Hobie smirking mischievously. Huffing, you stick out your tongue in annoyance. Pushing him away with your palm on his face.

He chuckles, pinching your nose for a brief second before going back to making your tea. His houseboat has never felt more like home before, Hobie thinks you're the missing piece in making it so.

—

Hobie and you share a plate, standing hip to hip near the kitchen island, forks fighting for the last bit of egg. Soft music plays in the background from his old record player, the slow song a rare one in his large collection of vinyls.

"Since when?" He stops attacking you with his fork, moving the egg closer to your side of the plate, surrendering.

"Hmm? Since when what?" You ask, cutting the egg in half, giving the bigger cut to him.

He hums appreciatively, bringing the egg to his mouth. Suddenly feeling anxious at what he's gonna say.

Drinking your tea, you wait for him to continue.

"Since when did you start fancying me?" You almost choke, eyes widening at his question. Hobie never fails to surprise you.

You swallow your breakfast, "well," buying time, sipping your drink. "I don't know the day exactly. I think everything just clicked for me" answering, you avoid his gaze.

Hobie moves your chin so he could look you in the eyes. He didn't confess to you and make things awkward between you. Breaking the tension, he moves closer, leaning against the counter. Hand comfortably pressed on the small of your back. You bring him closer by his waist, hand staying there.

"So you just woke up one day and went 'I fancy my best mate?'" Fully joking, he raises a pierced brow.

You chortle, "No, I remember it being gradual. Like slowly getting past your ego," he rolls his eyes, you chuckle at his reaction. "your teasing and all the spikes." Giggling, he clutches his nonexistent pearls. "I dunno exactly when" shrugging your shoulders, you tell the truth. "But a rough approximate, probably between year eight or nine"

"You fuckin' telling me I could've been holding you like this since year nine?"

You guffaw loudly, "maybe not like this! We would've been too young!"

"A couple of years later then" Hobie matches your laugh, hugging you closer.

After a minute of comfortable silence, you continue to eat while still clinging to each other, Hobie pipes up. "Do you have someplace to be today?" He hopes for a 'no'

"Yeah, I have to go back to campus to submit my papers for graduation" biting a piece of your toast, noticing his lack of reply. "Or I can do that tomorrow." You see him perk up in your peripheral, "deadline isn't till next week anyway" slyly side eyeing him, a cheeky smile on your giddy face.

"Good" He acts disinterested. Hiding his smile behind his mug, but you know better.

You wait for a few seconds, smirk slowly spreading on your lips. "You've got something planned for us?"

Hobie chuckles, "Nah, just wanna stay home" he wipes the crumbs off your chin. "With you"

"Oohh I feel so special" leaning into his touch, you blink at him prettily.

"Gorgeous" he softly says, staring deep into your eyes.

"Yeah? Even with crumbs all over me?"

Without warning, He lifts you up by your thighs effortlessly. Laughter fills the modest boat, you cling to his neck, leaning down to kiss him. He tastes sweet because of the tea, you savor him, legs tightening around his waist. Humming into the kiss. His hands squeeze your upper thighs, still at a respectable distance.

Thanks to his new found senses, Hobie leads you back to the couch, a feat in itself without bumping into furniture while his eyes are closed. His back lands on the lumpy cushions, earning him a groan as he feels the friction between you. Kissing you deeper, fingers massaging the back of your neck.

You arch your back, Hobie lets out a deep sound from the back of his throat. Needing air, you pull away with a breathless smile.

"Fuck" His chest heaves up and down, half lidded eyes stare up at you.

Chuckling, satisfied at his reaction, you lean back down to pepper his jaw with kisses. Hobie laughs (which sounded more like a giggle to you) with every smack of your lips on his skin.

"You sound" kiss "so manly" kiss "right now"

"That so?" Surroundings blur as he flips you over quickly but carefully, a large hand cradling the back of your head so that you don't hit the armrest. Your back landing on the cushion, legs still wrapped around his waist. His arms cageing you, grinning down at your flustered face. His necklace swings over your face, you restrain yourself from grabbing it to pull him further down to you.

You gulp down on air, like butter on a hot pan, you melt under him. Hobie sees your bare fingers, having an idea. With love seeping out of his pores, he slips his favourite ring off his finger. You give him a curious stare, feeling loopy with all the affections.

"Hand" he instructs you with a goofy smile, fingers flexing towards you. Shaking your head, you play hard to get. He rolls his eyes, smiling staying put. "Please"

Giggling, you give him your left hand, your heart threatening to pump out of your chest as he slips the metal ring to your pointing finger. You bite your lip when the ring twirls around your finger, ring too big for it. He huffs, sparing you a playful glance. You shrug, biting your lip to tamp down your giddy laughter.

Hobie takes the ring out for a second before putting it on your middle finger, it fits perfectly around you. The metal arms of the spider curl around your finger, hugging it. The red gleam of its eyes makes it look alive.

You bring the hand closer to your face, fanning your face like a southern bell about to faint from the summer heat.

Hobie's face feels like it's about to set on fire, pulse drumming loudly against his skin. He laughs at your antics. Admiring his ring on you.

"I made you so soft for me" your eyes tender, saying it in a sing-song cadence, hand reaching up to cup his cheek. You feel how warm he is, his ring grants him reprieve, cooling down a tiny area of his skin.

"Not soft right now though" Hobie leans down with a grin. You know exactly what he meant.

Gasping out, "Hobie! You–" Hobie cuts you off by blowing raspberries on the soft plush of your neck.

—

Hobie drops you off in front of your dorm building, you're practically wearing his wardrobe, save for your own shoes. Leather jacket over his jumper, too long jeans that he folded on each leg so you don't trip over the denim. His ring shines in the late morning sun right on your middle finger, still giddy at the thought of you wearing it. Your heavy bag full of clothes slung over your shoulder.

Hobie sits on his bike, motor still running, his hands sit comfortably on your waist. You're slotted in between his legs, fingers fixing the stray threads on his leather vest that you've lovingly given to him.

You've (reluctantly) come back to the dorms to submit your graduation requirements, having the entire day to yourself (to your dismay) but it's a necessary evil so you could spend the entire day with him tomorrow.

"You sure you don't want me to pick you up tomorrow?" He loops his thumb over your (his) belt loop.

"Nope, I can meet you there. I need to drop by aunt Janet's for my last order and you've got that protest. I can go with you if I finish early though"

"Right, call me if you need a ride" Hobie doesn't want to pressure you or worse, make you feel stifled.

"Mm-hmm, it's just a roll of fabric. I've managed before" you act brave in front of him. Truth be told, you want him next to you the entire day tomorrow, but you don't want him to think you're being too clingy. You're gonna move in with him anyway.

"Then I'll help you move in" as if reading your mind, Hobie pipes up excitedly.

"Then you can help me move in" chuckling, you agree with him. "First proper date tomorrow, huh?"

Hobie snorts, "Don't think that's the first one ever. We've been on hundreds"

"Yeah, but this one would be the first proper one. You asked me this time" looking at him through your eyelashes you can't help but peck his cheek. "You've got a plan for us then?"

"Maybe" Hobie guides your face with his hand, moving you to his lips instead. "Hell, I'll even get you flowers if you want. Since it's the first proper one" he says against your kiss bitten lips.

"Looking forward to it then" kissing him goodbye, you embrace him tightly. "Oh!" Pulling away suddenly, he pouts his lips. "I almost forgot, here" you take something out of your bag, placing it in his hand.

He looks at the red and blue spider trapped inside the glass casing, "it's dead right?"

"Yeah, you squished it. I've been meaning to give it to you since you gave me one" showing your ringed finger, twirling the metal spider around.

"How romantic, a dead spider" He says deadpanned, side eyeing you.

"Fine, give it here. Peter will love it" reaching over to take it from Hobie, he moves it away from you.

"Nah, it's mine. You gave it to me first" clicking his tongue, eyes crinkling in the corners, Hobie pockets it with a ghost of a smile.

You shake your head with a loopy grin, pecking his lips one last time before leaving. "Drive carefully" eyes soft, leaving one last kiss for good measure.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow, love" He chases your lips, hesitantly pulling away.

—

You bump into your RA in the hallway, she looks at you from head to toe, clearly not in your own clothes.

"Fun night?" She asks with a knowing smirk.

"Very fun" you indulge her because of your good mood. She does a double take, not expecting you to actually answer her like that.

—

You sigh for the umpteenth time, closing the door to the admin's office. Still in Hobie's clothes, coming down from the high of being with him, you crave him more. Having some sort of withdrawal symptoms, feeling jittery and excited to see him again. Of course you wouldn't tell him that or he'll endlessly tease you about it.

Smiling like a mad woman, you walk past your old classroom.

"L/n!" Mrs. Williams calls out to you. Surprised she knows your last name or even remembers you. You peek around the corner, seeing her sitting down on her desk littered with stacks of papers and Manila envelopes.

"Good afternoon, professor" smiling politely, she gestures for you to come inside.

Truth be told, you were saving her for last on submitting your requirements, even though she was strict and (undeniably) terrifying, Mrs. Williams was an inspiration to you. Always prim and proper, her talent in designing is top tier. You learned a lot from her.

You stop right next to her desk, glancing at the various portfolios on her desk. Spotting yours in the forefront, you flick your eyes back to the brunette, hiding your sudden nervousness. Maybe you should've changed into something more fashionable before going back to campus. Hiding your hands inside Hobie's sleeves, you anxiously pick at your nail polish or what's left of it.

"Knock knock" someone suddenly knocks on the (already) open doors with enthusiasm. Turning around, you recognize the man as Mr. Riley from the fashion show, he holds two lattes in his hand.

He stands up straight the moment he spots you, "oh great timing"

"I assume you've met each other?" The woman genuinely smiles at Mr. Riley.

"Yes," answering, you don't miss their lingering looks towards one another as Mr. Riley gives her the latte.

"I was about to tell her about your proposition" Williams says through her paper cup.

Snapping out of it, Mr. Riley gives you his best smile. "Well, I've faxed my boss your portfolio and she absolutely loves it!" You beam at his words. "We would really love it for you to be part of the team after you graduate"

"That's amazing! I–I don't know what to say" you roam your eyes towards your professor for approval, she looks at you with a nod and small smile. "Thank you!" You laugh in bewilderment.

"Is that a yes?" Riley brings his hand for you to shake. "Of course we'll give you ample time to sort your papers for the move. Two months seems like the right timeline."

You were about to shake his hand to accept his offer but you stop halfway when he says the word 'move'. "I have to move? Where exactly?" Voice shaking, you drop your hand back to your side.

"L.A. in America" He says as if that's the closest place to move to. "You know, where our headquarters are?"

Mrs. Williams notices your knitted brows and slow blinks. "Ian, may I talk to my student for a minute" she looks up at him through her long lashes.

"Yeah– of course, I forgot your scones anyway. Be right back!" He walks away, shutting the door behind him.

Heart stuck in your throat, you look at your professor for guidance.

"Listen, out of the entire graduating class, only three were approved. One of them is you."

You release a shaky breath, lips tightening to a flat line, trying to stop your heaving. Your excitement turns into something indistinguishable, something that feels unwarranted, a stabbing sensation all over your skin.

Williams takes your portfolio in hand, flipping through it. "You see this?" She shows you a sketch of Hobie's outfit, his eyes seem to pierce through you. "This is the outfit, the only reason it didn't make it to the top three is because there wasn't enough of you in it."

You try to wrap your mind around her statement, ears focused on her words.

"I understand your…" she tries to find the right words. "...worry. But you must understand, not a lot of people get this opportunity. Don't let it pass you by"

You recognize those words, heart clenching at the different meaning behind it.

"Riley will only be here till next week, you have that time to decide. Please take my words into consideration, I want all my students to thrive."

You nod, murmuring a small 'thank you'. Walking away from the room, you slip away to an empty broom closet. Mind racing, it all stops to him, his smiling face appears in your mind's eye, voice echoing amidst the rushing and chaos of your thoughts.

Silent tears slide down your cheeks. You don't even know why you're crying. Already knowing what to do, wiping your eyes, tears sticking on your lashes, you already know, Right?

A/N: Thank you for reading! I can't believe we're almost at the end 😭 let me know your thoughts ❤️

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