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#he’s also not mad about the fact albert kisses him in front of everyone
rainythefox · 3 years
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Nightfall (CH.16)
Synopsis: Pre-Resident Evil 1, slight-AU/Canon Divergence. Claire Redfield comes home to visit her  brother Chris for the holidays but gets caught up in a dangerous game of  cat and mouse with Albert Wesker, the Captain of STARS, after stumbling  upon dark secrets. She can’t call the law; Wesker is the law, and she  can’t tell Chris. She is trapped…Claire/Wesker & Slight Chris/Jill (There’s Wesker & William Bromance too lol). Rated M for smut, language, violence, adult content.
AO3 Link
Chapter 16: Mine
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Warning: this chapter contains lots of smut. You’ve been warned, okay? Okay! :P Because of this, only the first section of the chapter is available on Tumblr. Please follow the link to AO3 to read the rest. Thank you! :)
Okay, she knew her luck had taken a big dump recently, but this was ridiculous! If she thought the university job was difficult, she promptly changed her mind. That was a walk in the park compared to this. Claire stared at all the people. The exquisite party was happening at the ritzy Orient Restaurant on the second floor of the most luxurious hotel in the city, Central Hotel.
There had to be close to a hundred people here! The whole restaurant was closed to cater for the invitation-only event. Why did she even assume this “Christmas Party” was going to be just a group of rich, old dudes bragging all night? With how her luck has been, she should've known better!
Claire gaped at the man beside her who was unfortunately the closest thing she had to a friend at the moment. She recalled William’s little “briefing” on the drive over here.
“The party’s not gonna be that big. Just a simple “get in, get out”. You’ll be home in no time! Actually, you’ll probably be at Al’s home in no time!”
He was still rubbing his arm where she decked him.
“This is nothing like how you explained it!” she hissed.
But the mad scientist only half-heard her, his eyes lit up as though he was a kid about to enter his very first amusement park. Something in here was on his kill list because Claire overheard he wasn’t a stranger to parties, at least not to parties like this that could get him something he wanted. 
William was actually quite handsome all cleaned up in his suit. Claire had grown accustomed to his usual disheveled appearance that made him attractive in his own way.
He grinned slyly. “Oh relax, sweetheart. You’ll be fine. Most of these people are total bores…losers just out trying to feel important. They got nothing on you!” He winked at her. “You know what to do, who to find. Ada’s on your earpiece and Al and I are here to watch your back. Don’t worry. Al _definitely _won’t let you out of his sight. Just…don’t distract him too much. I need him focused tonight.”
“Are you fu-”
“Erica!” William nearly squealed, waving both arms and abruptly abandoning her. “Is that gown designed by Broca’s aphasia? Because I’m speechless!” 
Claire glared at the fickle bastard as he ditched her to join some other people standing around talking and drinking. She was on her own for now.
“Forget about him, Claire. Just focus on getting to Bennett. Best not drag this out longer than we have to and risk exposing ourselves,” Ada said on her earpiece.
“Okay,” she mumbled, and got into character, her natural Redfield bravado and assurance making it easy to stroll through the party like she owned the place.
It was a beautiful Asian restaurant. Most of the dark tables were accented with candles and glasses. The lounge-like chairs were colorful and comfy, and the tall ceilings gave way to soft LED string lights, oriental paintings and sectioned lattices. In warmer seasons, the same kind of setup could be seen on the massive balcony, but it was currently closed off.
She felt many eyes on her as she started her objective. But she only cared about one set of eyes as she discreetly scanned the place for them.
This many people here was both a blessing and a curse for her mission, and it could go either way real quick at any time. More people meant no room for mistakes, too many eyes. But on the other hand, this many people distracted amongst themselves could make it easy to get away with nearly anything.
Claire soon found the eyes she had been seeking, felt the familiar, pleasing burn on her skin they always caused. She traced them to an area with more people, where a grand, gold statue of Lord Yama sat. Directly in front of the god of death, Wesker was encircled by a small group, mostly beautiful women, and he charmed them effortlessly.
The younger Redfield had to keep herself from staring, also charmed by his chameleon smile, good looks, and striking black suit. Her nerves tingled from simmering blood. She couldn’t believe it. She was actually jealous?! Claire was angry with herself. How could she possibly feel anything of the sort over the man that was blackmailing her?
Besides...she knew Wesker well enough by now to know that it was all pretense. She was sickened and enthralled by how easily he could deceive and influence people. Ada was right. His calculating mind, his clever tongue, those were his deadliest weapons; not his hands, not his gun.
The statue of Yama was simply a backdrop to the true god of death in the room. His admirers probably had no clue and listened intently. The women batted their eyes, pushed out their chests, even the ones who had dates. And those men did nothing about it, perhaps too enthralled themselves or maybe it was the fact that Wesker had an uncanny ability to make most men around him submissive.
He may have looked like he was paying attention to them, his eyes concealed behind black shades, but Claire knew he was watching her. All of her. Every breath, every step, he was in complete tune. Something about that lit a fire in her belly so fierce, she trembled.
The jealousy she felt instantly crumbled. It didn’t matter if those women were rich or prettier or dressed in nicer dresses. They meant nothing to him. Not like she did.
And why was that, exactly?
Claire frowned, faltering mid-step, eyes still locked on Wesker across the room when she should've been moving on. She had some suspicions, if her gut and Ada and William were anything to go by. 
More importantly, why do you care?
“Claire?! Earth to Claire, hello?”
“Huh?”
“You aren’t exactly being inconspicuous staying in one spot drooling over Albert.”
Claire’s face flushed and she briskly walked away with a huff. “I’m not drooling!”
The first place she needed to check for her target would be the bar. Typical. It was in the back of the restaurant, low-lit, a massive, semi-circled bar with a marble countertop up against an airbrushed wall depicting a dragon floating through the clouds.
“Whatever you say, hun.”
Claire bit her tongue, taking a deep breath. “I was just happy to see him chatting up other women. Less problems for me.”
Ada sighed. “Claire, fishing is beneath you. First, they aren’t his type. More importantly, Albert detests easy women.”
That wasn’t her intention. “I wasn’t-”
“Unfortunately and fortunately for you, you are his type and are as difficult as they come. I probably shouldn’t be saying this, but you’re as close to obsession as he’s going to get romantically.”
The only fortune she could come up with was that it was unlikely Wesker would kill her. But obsession through people with sociopathic and psychopathic tendencies like Wesker were never a good thing. Her life might be spared at the end of all this...but at what cost?
Claire briskly pushed that thought aside, something cold and heavy dropping in the pit of her stomach. She needed to focus on finding Bennett and getting this over with. That was her excuse. After all, she wasn’t ready to acknowledge that her own growing infatuation would likely veer her into her captor’s arms for good.
She looked around the bar area. There were all kinds of high-status people attending Bard’s Christmas party. Doctors, politicians, city officials, even Mayor Warren and Chief Irons were here.
She recognized Mueller from Raccoon University having a casual conversation with the man that had to be her target. A picture was never granted, but a detailed description allowed her to quickly analyze him. It had to be him. Tall, average build, auburn hair and an anchor beard. He chatted with Mueller with a drink in his hand.
Just as Claire stepped their way, a strong grip snatched her wrist. She was spun around, coming face-to-face with Nathaniel Bard. He looked fine since the anaphylaxis she put him through with the shrimp, but the creep wasn't happy one bit with her, still keeping a painful grip on her arm.
"I knew I'd see your face again, girl. What happened at the university is all your fault."
Claire glared at him. "You're gonna be hurting more if you don't let me go right now."
The music and all the guests chatting around them helped conceal her threat from eavesdropping ears but the Spencer Memorial doctor heard her clearly.
He considered challenging her, lips pursing, but soon let her go after his eyes scanned the numerous faces within the party. "I know you're working with those two bastards. You have no idea how much harm you’ve caused me and several of my colleagues. Lowery was a good man, understand? He had a family. And now I’m trapped doing those two psychos’ bidding.”
“Maybe you aren’t the only one who is trapped.”
“Well then there’s more to your pretty face, isn’t there? They wouldn’t risk it otherwise.”
Who the fuck did this guy think he was? Claire clenched a fist, as it took all of her willpower not to break his damn nose. She had a job to do here. If she caused a scene in the middle of this party, especially with the man hosting it, then she could kiss her freedom and potentially Chris’s life goodbye.
She did let him in on what he was narrowly missing out on by grabbing his hand and twisting it slightly, squeezing hard on a pressure point. Just enough to make it really hurt, just enough to get her point across while looking like she was just holding his hand to nearly everyone else. “If my life didn’t hinge on fulfilling this job, you’d be on the floor with a broken fucking face, do you understand me?”
“Damn, Claire. I like your style,” Ada chimed in.
The younger Redfield ignored her and smiled, showing the guests they were having a pleasant conversation. Bard hissed in pain, quickly nodding. Claire released him and he jerked his hand away, shaking it off with a grimace.
“Listen, I’ll make the job easy for you. Just...do what you need to do and get out of here. Take those assholes with you. And never show your face at one of my social events ever again.”
“I’d love to, but it’s not my call. But...I have a feeling you know exactly who you can talk to about that.”
Bard scowled, rubbing his injured hand. He muttered something under his breath and motioned her to follow him, heading towards Bennett and Mueller in the back of the bar. “C’mon, and follow my lead.”
“Ugh, he better not screw this up.”
Bard put on a welcoming smile once they reached Mueller and Bennett’s table. Mueller recognized her, but didn’t say anything. She barely got a moment’s glare from him before he flashed Bard a guarded look, as if asking “what are you up to now?” The two men stood and the doctor shook their hands.
“Mr. Bennett! I trust you are enjoying the party? What kind of host would I be if I was neglecting my honored guest?”
He looked to be in his thirties maybe. His smile was warm as he nodded. He noticed Claire nearly right away, and there was a definite reaction of some kind. Attraction, she guessed, immediate infatuation. Great…
“Oh yes,” he said in a European accent. “I am grateful to you and Greg’s hospitality. You’ve made being so far from home much more bearable.”
“Good, good! It’s a shame your business partner couldn’t join us this evening. But I’m sure he had his reasons. You two are busy men, after all!”
Bennett nodded, composed yet amiable. “That we are. I’m sorry, but I have to ask, who is this beautiful young lady you have with you?”
Bard didn’t skip a beat in his front, presenting her with a grin like she was a piece of treasure up for auction.
“I know, stunning right? This is Elza. She’s one of my...assistants.”
The European man held out his hand with a handsome, friendly smile. It could’ve fooled anyone, and it almost fooled her. But her gut constricted at the last moment, her first indication something wasn’t right about this guy.
He took her hand and kissed it softly. “It is my utmost pleasure, Miss Elza. I’m Stephan Bennett. Please, just call me Stephan.”
Claire put on the sweetest smile she could muster, batting her lashes. “The pleasure’s all mine, Stephan.”
He looked her over, and although he was an attractive man, it made her skin crawl.
“Has Greg taken you up to your suite yet?” Bard asked cordially. “I’ve left you a little treat as a thank you for choosing to stay the night in Raccoon City’s famous Central Hotel!” 
Bennett ripped his eyes from Claire and shook his head at the host. “No, sir. I got the keycard to the room earlier, but wanted to check out the party before retreating for the night.” He presented a friendly, almost sheepish smile. “Honestly, I’m still a little messed up with the time zone changes. I didn’t think it would affect me this much.”
“That’s not a problem. My assistant and I will escort you up there. There’s a little bit of business I’d like to discuss with you anyway,” Bard replied.
“What about your party?”
“Eh, they’ll entertain themselves! Greg will take care of things while I’m gone. It won’t be but a few minutes.” Bennett glanced at Claire, expression unreadable, and Bard quickly added. “My assistant is completely trustworthy, don’t worry. She knows about our research.”
Bennett nodded, relieved. “Alright, lead the way, Nathaniel.”
Claire was uncertain what to do as Mueller shook hands with Bennett and bid them good night before heading for the bar. Her job was to stick a bug on the European businessman, probably so Wesker and William could track him straight to Aaron Roth. Leaving the party just tossed her whole plan into the garbage. This just got way riskier.
Nothing like winging a mission where my life’s literally at stake. What’s the worst that can happen?
“Great,” Ada whispered in her ear, not helping Claire’s gut feeling. “Wesker’s watching and listening through your piece. He says it’s fine. Just get that bug on Bennett without him knowing.”
Was that supposed to make her feel better that Wesker said it was fine? And how exactly was he able to do that anyway? That just made her earlier conversation with Ada a lot more awkward...
With a slight tick of her jaw, Claire composed herself with a friendly smile and followed the two men out of the restaurant and into the fancy, historical hotel.
They went to the lobby, a grand room with high ceilings, bright lights, and expensive carpet and decor. The elevator ride to the fifth floor seemed extra crowded, even though there were just three of them. Bard and Bennett chatted normally about their lives and careers. Claire didn’t like the frequent glances Bennett gave her. She waited for an opportunity, stayed vigilant with that inkling sprouting in her gut.
It got worse when Ada told her she lost visual on her from their location.
Wesker’s making you do this alone because he wants to see how you do, said a small voice in the back of her head. She didn’t have proof, but she wouldn’t put it past him.
She gave vague answers when Bennett asked her something, either curious and flirting or digging and deceiving. She wasn’t exactly sure.
Bennett scanned his card and held the door open to the big, two-bedroom suite. Bard strolled right on in but Claire hesitated, not wanting to put her back to these men. When she did, she felt his eyes all over her, and when he closed the door, he purposely brushed her to get by.
They stepped into the spacious living room first, accented with a bar and impressive kitchen. There was a home theater set up in the den, opposite a wall of glass that displayed downtown Raccoon City. Dark buildings silhouetted within soft glows of lights of all colors. Speckles of white rained down softly outside.
“You meant it when you said this suite had a view,” Bennett stated, drawn to the panorama.
Bard gave her a look, dipped his head in the direction of his “guest”, as if urging her to get her business done. Claire glared at him as he turned off to the bar instead.
“Yes, I did! And over here, something just for you, Mr. Bennett. Your favorite wine. All the way from home!”
“I don’t like this. Are you okay? Cough if you are.”
“How thoughtful of you, Dr. Bard. Thank you. You’ve gone out of your way to make me feel at home here.”
Claire didn’t like it either. She looked around, keeping up her appearance as she joined the men at the bar. She didn’t see any danger, but something like it was lurking about. Whatever it was, she was fine for now.
She coughed. “Oh, excuse me.”
Bennett watched her more than Bard, but she still couldn’t read his expression. Bard took the fancy bottle out of the container of ice. “Shall we have a glass while we talk?”
“Yes. I’d like that.”
That clicked an idea in her brain. Claire put a hand on Bard’s arm, mustering up the realest fake friendly smile she could handle, looking between the two men under thick lashes. “How about you gentlemen take a seat, get comfortable? Let me serve you.”
Bennett’s smile held something darker, but it was gone in a flash. Bard looked at her funny, but composed himself and slowly put the wine down on the counter. “Of course, Elza! You’re always the sweetest thing! Come, Stephan, over here.”
“What do you have planned, exactly?” Ada asked. “Ugh, I hate going by sound alone.”
Her cohorts had lied to her, she realized. William promised Wesker wouldn’t let her out of his sight and Ada said she would watch over her. Wesker didn’t say much to her before the party, but disclosed if she did what she was told, she would be fine. She was alone here and certainly felt something other than “fine” was coming her way.
The doctor and his guest went to the lounge chairs nearby, sitting across from each other. It was the perfect way for Claire to bug Bennett without him knowing. She opened the white wine and poured their glasses, giving them time to get settled in their seats and start talking. The more distracted they were, the better. It also gave her a moment to get the tiny tracking device ready.
The younger Redfield served Bennett first. She caressed her fingers up his arm, across his shoulder, stopped at the back of his neck, squeezing his collar gently. Her flirtatious smile was enough to distract him from Bard when she handed him his drink. She didn’t remain long, crossing to Bard and giving him his drink with the same smile, the same caress that made her skin crawl. She left them and returned to the bar, gathering up the wine bottle and ice bucket and placing them on the table in between the two men.
Claire eavesdropped on their conversation, but a lot of it made no sense to her. Big research, Sheena and Rockfort Island, Roth, Ashfords, prototypes, T-series. All similar topics that Wesker and William discussed and were involved with.
“You know, it’s strange how all of our business associates keep coming up dead or missing since we’ve been in town,” Bennett said after a long sip of his wine.
Bard grew quiet, confused, his fingers clenching around his wine glass. “What…do you mean?”
The European man looked at Claire, like he knew all of her secrets, not near as charming now. “You know what happened to them...don’t you, Miss Walker? Or should I call you Miss Redfield?”
Claire stiffened, nails digging into the chair arms. She dared not blink, glaring at him, keeping calm, but reeling underneath on how to react. He knew her name. Her _real _name.
Shit!
“Shit!” Ada echoed in her ear. “Claire, don’t do anything rash. Hang in there.”
It wasn’t as though she had much of a choice. She was on her own. Bard’s alarmed face told her everything. He was just as surprised as her, but would be too much of a coward to help her.
Claire took a deep breath. “I don’t know what happened to them.”
“I think Dr. Lowery would say otherwise.”
“How do you know my real name?”
The European businessman crossed one leg casually, swishing the wine in his glass, sharp eyes on her. “All it took was a little digging. You really shouldn’t use your mother’s maiden name as an alias, darling. Especially one as unique as hers.”
Cold steel bumped the back of her head. A gun.
Wesker had told her the same thing. Warned her.
She was careless to use it after not being prepared at the university. Now she was in real danger. The other wolves that Wesker claimed he was protecting her from had stalked her right into a corner. Then again, maybe he wasn’t expecting _this _pack. Or maybe he had and was ready to give her up as tribute for his own motives…
“Uh, Stephan, what’s going on, is t-this necessary?” Bard asked.
“Quiet, or you’ll have one to your head also.” Bennett motioned for Claire to stand. “My business partner, Aaron, would like to speak to you one-on-one, Miss Redfield. You have the time, right? You can help fill the gaps on what’s been happening to our dealings. We’re getting warm, but it seems as though everyone is too afraid to give us answers. Whoever you’re working for, we’ll cut you a nice deal if you expose them.”
Claire kept his gaze, defiant, silent. She had no choice but to comply. She had no weapons on her, no way to hide one in this dress. She slowly moved her hands down to her sides, preparing to push herself up, and felt it. The cold, metal coil of a corkscrew. She forgot she had brought it with her while serving the drinks.
Snatching it up between her fingers, she stood. The man who had the gun to her head pulled her out away from the chair. Bennett rose from his seat, finishing his drink and setting the empty glass down.
Bard shot up as well, looking between Claire and his guest, panicking. “Wh-What are you doing?”
There were two other men in suits now. They must’ve been hiding in the suite this whole time. Although they didn’t have weapons drawn, they were probably packing like the one behind her.
“Nathaniel, lying to me that she is your assistant? After what happened to Simon, I’m shocked. Someone’s got you cowering and afraid, just like Greg. Just like our friend the Police Chief.”
“I-It’s n-not what you think.”
Bennett nodded to the other men. They grabbed Bard by the arms, containing him. The European man pulled a gun equipped with a silencer from his suit jacket.
The doctor fought his captors. “Wait! No!”
Claire stabbed the man behind her in the groin with the corkscrew. He cried out as she spun, disarming him and shoving him away where he tumbled to the floor. She grabbed the bottle of wine and threw it at Bennett’s head just as he switched his gun on her. The bottle shattered on his face.
She didn’t get far with running. Not in that dress, not in those heels, before she was snatched by his men. A bash above her temple instantly made the world spin. Still, she fought, as weak as she suddenly felt.
Bennett was soaked, his face earning a few gashes from broken glass, blood mixing with golden-colored wine. He cursed, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He grabbed her neck, squeezing hard.
“You little bitch! You’re lucky Aaron wants to speak with you, or you’d be dead!”
That’s when his arm snapped. Like a twig. He screamed. Claire, her vision still hazy from the blow to her head, realized he was attacked. His men were attacked; she was let go. A few blinks and she saw Wesker using some sort of martial arts to swiftly dispose of them. Not Bennett though. He raced away to his escape while holding his limp arm that flopped uselessly as he ran.
The STARS Captain had killed the other three. In seconds. With his hands. He paused, looking to the door where Bennett had fled, as if deciding whether to pursue him. He was over it in seconds though, grabbing her and pulling her to him. Not as rough as she had expected, but gentle wasn’t really in his nature.
“Hold still,” he commanded. She felt his hand on her head. He must’ve been examining the clout she had received. “Are you alright?”
There was some blood on his hand when he withdrew it, and she felt it trickling in her hair. It must’ve been just a small cut, otherwise it would’ve been all over her face by now.
“Yeah,” she said. And she was. It had only made her light-headed for a minute or so.
The nearby chair squeaked as it scooted on the carpet, and a muffled curse came from the other side. Wesker finally looked away from her, jaw clenching. He marched over to the furniture and kicked it. The chair crashed and skidded several feet away. Wesker seized Bard by the collar and picked him up, slamming him into the nearby bar counter. The sound his body made hitting the granite countertop made her flinch, and Bard’s yelp confirmed it.
“Wesker, wait, please! I d-didn’t know! I didn’t! I swear! He was gonna kill me too!”
“He was,” Claire confirmed. 
She had no idea why she defended the asshole, especially when he didn’t offer her any help before. But she could tell he was telling the truth. Wesker paused, but didn’t look at her, probably contemplating what to do with the doctor as he shuddered in his hands.
“Consider your...contract extended indefinitely,” Wesker growled, and shoved him over the other side of the bar. He put a couple fingers up to his ear, the same hidden piece she had. “Ada, William, we’re finished here. Ada, track Bennett. William, tell Irons he has a mess to clean up with Bard and Mueller.”
Bard got to his feet, shaken, his surprised eyes finding hers. The younger Redfield glared at him, a silent message he understood. She had spared him a cruel fate from the Devil. But she wouldn’t do it again.
She returned her gaze to the three bodies around her feet. The one she stabbed with the corkscrew had a snapped neck. The other two looked as though they had suddenly dropped dead, nothing to attribute to the hands of the STARS Captain. But she had seen it with her own eyes. And although it shouldn’t have, it lit a fierce fire in her lower belly, spreading when his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her towards the door.
The flames were fanned when he whispered in her ear, his hand squeezing her hip. “You did exceptionally well, dear heart. You make me proud.”
When Ada told her Wesker would want to take her home after seeing her in her dress, she had denied wanting him to, denied she wanted to go home with him willingly. But after what she saw, how he held her close to him like she was his, and his alone, how his breath upon her ear titillated her, made her receptive to him only, she could no longer deny it.
Claire wouldn’t be able to stand the drive there. She wanted him. Wanted him to take her. She was a liar; it wasn’t just a one-time fling or a mistake. It was going to happen again. And she wanted it to, and would do nothing to stop it.
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It’s not the next day til the sun’s up. Everyone knows that...
Fandom: 911 Ship: Madney Rating: G Word Count: 1852
Summary: Pushing the door open further, he found Maddie hunched over the toilet and a trail of what looked like vomit, staining the white tiles, leading to the toilet.
Day 5: Oh my god, you’re burning up” + hurt/comfort (more fluff/comfort than anything because I struggle with whump)
Can also be read here
Chimney woke to the sound of violent retching coming from the bathroom. His girlfriend was no longer next to him and he spotted the light on in the bathroom. He jumped up, running to the bathroom. Pushing the door open further, he found Maddie hunched over the toilet and a trail of what looked like vomit, staining the white tiles, leading to the toilet.
As he walked over to her, bare feet carefully steeping around the mess, he remembered that the two of them had dinner before at a new place on their date last night. They didn’t eat anything out of the ordinary and he felt fine, so this might not have been food poisoning. He touched her bare shoulder. Her skin was burning to the touch. “Oh my god, you’re burning up.”
She turned from the toilet, peered up at him, face pale. “I’m okay,” she croaked, voice hoarse. Maddie pushed herself back from the toilet into a sitting position against the side of the tub, sighing at the cool ceramic.
He said as he walked to linen closet to get a towel for the mess and a wash cloth for her.
“It was probably something I ate,” She tried weakly. “Sorry about the mess.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” He went about wiping the mess, disposing of the towel in the hamper when her was done.
He wet the cloth with cold water and sat down next to her on the floor. Maddie noticed what he was fixing to do and tried to push his hand away. “Come on Howie, you don’t have to do—“ Chimney ignored her and went about dabbing the rag across his forehead. “God that feels good.”
“You were saying,” he smirked, continuing to rub the rag across her forehead and down her face.
Maddie stopped him, trying to push his hands away. “Babe, stop, I’m fine. The nausea has already passed,” her voice still held the same weakness, “plus I have an early morning shift. What time is it anyway?” Maddie pushed herself up with shaky hands. As soon as she got to her feet, she almost lost her balance. He quickly got up to catch her.
“You are not going anywhere, especially not to work. It’s 40 degrees outside, you can barely stand right now, let alone drive. I can’t, in good conscience, even think about letting you go to work.” Chimney’s tone was as firm as he could muster to her.
“Come on, you’re going back to bed” Chimney felt a bit of victory at the fact that Maddie didn’t fight him on it. He held on to her until they reached the bed. She climbed on the bed and sunk into the mattress and he pulled the sheets and comforter around her.
“So warm,” she mumbled into the pillow.
Chimney went back into the bathroom to do a slightly more thorough cleaning. Once finished, he grabbed the thermometer, cough syrup, Tylenol, and a glass of water, placing all of it on the bedside table. Maddie’s even breathing let him know that she’d gone back to sleep. He switched off the baby monitor, so it wouldn’t wake her and decided to go check on their daughter.
He walked across the hall to the nursery, to find his baby still asleep. Careful not to disturb her, he leaned over the side of the crib and lightly touched her forehead. Thankfully, her skin was dry and cool to the touch, signaling that she hadn’t caught whatever her mother had. And he didn’t want her to catch it, so he should probably make arrangements for her to stay somewhere else. He sighed as he thought about his only available options, making a mental note to call them. He watched her sleep a few moments more before walking out of the room.
Looking in on Maddie, she was burritoed under the covers, so he closed the door and let her rest. Chimney went towards the kitchen to make him some coffee, knowing she’s not going back to sleep anytime soon. He eyed the counter clock. 6:02 am. He’d give until after he finished his coffee to start making the necessary phone calls.
He took slow sips of his mug as he thought about which one he wanted to call to take care of Jee-Yun, he sighed inwardly as he came to a decision. He sat the empty mug down and grabbed his phone from the couch. First calling Sue to let her know that Maddie wouldn’t be there. He was already off for the next couple of days so he didn’t need to worry about calling in. Then he called Albert, as he was one of his only options to possibly care for Jee-Yun. To Chimney’s surprise he picked up almost immediately.
“What’s going on?” Albert asked, probably just waking up.
“Why do you think something’s happened?”
“No one calls this early in the morning for no reason.” He did have a point.
“Nothing happened. I do need a favor, though.”
“At six in the morning?”
“Can you to take care of Jee-Yun?”
“I knew something happened. You and Maddie had a fight or something? What did you do?”
“No, we didn’t have a fight. Wait, why do you assume it’s my fault? Never mind, don’t answer that. Maddie’s sick and I just don’t want to risk Jee-Yun getting sick as well.”
“She’s okay, right?”
“Just a stomach flu. She’ll likely be alright by tomorrow or the next day.”
“Oh, okay, yeah I got you.”
“Are you sure? If you can’t-”
“It’s my niece, I always have time for her.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“No problem. I’ll be there to pick her up in about an hour.”
He put the phone down on the counter. He decided to get Jee-Yun packed up to spend the next couple of days with her uncle. As soon as the door opened he heard his daughters cries. He got her situated with a fresh diaper and some clean clothes. He packed a baby bag, feed her, and now they were on the couch waiting for Albert to arrive.
“Okay, Jee, look after your uncle. Make sure he doesn’t do anything crazy.”
It didn’t take Albert long to arrive. He had been more than willing to keep Jee-Yun as long as needed. Chimney promised to keep him updated as he kissed her goodbye, through his mask, and handed her to him with her bag. Even though he does it often, he’ll never be used to handing her off to others. But it was necessary. He saw the two of them off and then it was just him and Maddie.
Heading back to their bedroom to check on Maddie, he expectantly found her still asleep. Peeling back some of her covers, her touched her to find her skin still over heated and clammy, still running a fever. He put another cold compress to her forehead before putting the covers back over her as she groaned and shivered.
Leaving her to her rest, he decided to take care of some things around the apartment. Before he knew it, six hours had passed. Walking back in the bedroom, he found Maddie awake, “hey, how you feeling?”
She groaned and sniffled, “hot, cold, achy, nauseated. I hate being sick.”
“I have an idea.” He went into their bathroom and drew her a bath, knowing it would help soothe her. He pulled her from their bed, stripped her of her damp clothing, and sat on the side of the tub as soak in the water and steam. “Better?”
“Much. Even better if you join me.”
“I think I’ll sit this one out. As soon as you’re better, though...”
“That’s quitters talk.”
The water cooled and Maddie got out, returning to their bedroom, taking medicine, and sitting up in bed. Chimney went into the kitchen to make her some mostly broth chicken soup and tea. He placed the soup, crackers, and some green tea with lemon and honey on a tray and brought it back to her.
“Wow, I should be sick more often,” Maddie commented as he placed the tray in front of her. When he got close she’d leaned in to kiss him, but immediately thought better of it. “Right, no kissing.”
He kissed her on the forehead. “You’ll be better soon enough,” he said as he sat in bed next to her. They fell silent for a moment as she ate a bit, but preferred the tea more than anything else.
“Is Jee-Yun napping? I actually can’t remember if I’ve even heard her today,” Maddie broke the silence.
“You probably haven’t. I turned the baby monitor off so you could rest. She’s actually not here. She’s staying with Albert,” Maddie’s eyes widened and she went to respond, but he stopped her, “so she wouldn’t get sick. I didn’t have any other options. It was between him and Buck,” her face softened a little, “and as much as I know they both love their niece, which would you have chosen?”
Maddie didn’t say anything as she grabbed her cellphone of the table. It didn’t take long to figure out who she was calling as the FaceTime rang.
“Maddie! How are you feeling?” Albert answered the call.
Before she could answer they heard, “Mads, hey! Say hey to mama, Jee.” Buck. They saw him stroll into Albert’s kitchen, holding Jee-Yun.
“Buck?” They asked simultaneously, “what are you doing at Albert’s? Maddie asked.
“Oh, when I called him he told me that he was taking care of her because you’re sick. Since I was off today, I decided to come over and help out. She could always use some time with her favorite uncles. Isn’t that right, JeeJee?”
Maddie had to smile as she watched her baby brother interact with her daughter. “Well, I just wanted to see her as I haven’t today,” Maddie told him, “stay out of trouble. Call us if you need us.”
“Will do.”
“We’ve got everything handled here. You just focus on getting better. I’ll have her back to you in a couple of days.” Albert added confidently.
“Thanks again for taking care of her.”
“That’s what family’s for.”
Maddie ended the call and tossed her phone on the bed between them. “They’ll be fine, right?”
“I mean between the two of them, how much trouble could they get into?” Maddie looked at him. For the most part, they trusted their brothers to handle to responsibility. They would still be periodically checking on them, making sure everything was okay.
“I trust them to make sure they take good of her.” Chimney agreed.
Seeing that Maddie had eaten and drank all she was going to, he removed the tray. Taking it back in the kitchen. He came back and returned to his place on the bed, Maddie taking the opportunity to snuggle into his arms.
“I apologize in advance for getting you sick,” she sniffed and yawned, “thanks for taking care of me.
“Worth it,” he kissed her forehead, “you never have to thank me. That’s what I’m here for.” ---
Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4
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imaginingsoftly · 4 years
Text
Home Videos - Tyson Jost
Type: childhood friends to lovers, Y/N insert shorts
Requested: Yes
Warnings: swearing
(Y/N = Your name)
A/N: From prompt list, #59 (“How is it that you’re so stupid and so hot at the same time?”)
You hated summertime. For 9 months out of the year you could go about your life in Edmonton completely unbothered, minus the couple of trips Tyson made to play the Oilers, but those three months always came too soon. When Tyson had been drafted and everyone else had moved away for college or to start their careers you had all agreed to meet up at least once a year for a week of catching up, a promise that no one had broken in the three years since. For the third time that week, you were holding your finger over the green button to call Tyson and tell him you were busy and wouldn’t make it to the cabin. It wasn’t necessarily a lie; you were an ER nurse, and getting a week off wasn’t easy if you were to have tried to get it on short notice, but Tyson knew you. He knew that you wouldn’t have forgotten that week, and that something else was happening. 
You’d already told Syd you wouldn’t be there. She had yelled at you over the course of the last week for being an idiot, that you just needed to tell Tyson you were in love with him, but you knew better. He was bringing a girl home with him this year. He’d called you after their first date over the moon, raving about how much you’d love her and how he couldn’t wait to bring her around. Syd had talked to you for hours that night as you’d cried. It was irrational, and you knew that, but that knowledge didn’t make hearing about Tyson kissing another girl any easier. You also felt guilty. This was your best friend, your oldest friend, and he really wanted you to meet this girl. You wanted to be happy for him, to welcome her into the friend group with a smile and the multitude of embarrassing stories you had about Tyson from your years living next door to each other, but you didn’t think you could do it. Honestly, just thinking about it had you almost in tears. 
You clicked out of Tyson’s contact. 
Not tonight. 
Two days later, you were staring down at your phone screen as Tyson’s contact photo again lit up your face in the darkness of your living room. You were sitting alone in a small pity party, watching an old home video, a hockey game between all of the neighborhood kids from when you and Tyson were eight or nine. You mom had been in a home video phase then, and you had some great footage of yours and Tyson’s shenanigans over the years. Somewhere there was a video of the time Tyson decided to shovel the snow off of his roof by himself, and had gotten himself stuck in the snow headfirst when he fell off of the roof. You had run over there laughing, and the video captured the hilarity of the two of you as he had yelled for help and you had grabbed his ankles and pulled ineffectively. Your dad had eventually gone out there to help, clearing out the snow enough for Tyson to get himself upright again. It was one your parents never failed to pull out every winter, to which Tyson would declare it his proudest moment. 
Your phone lit up again with a voicemail, and you turned it facedown and snuggled deeper into your blanket. The pickup game was still happening, and you and Tyson were dominating the game. It had always been like that; Tyson had been the only one of you to go pro, but he had done his best to convince you to play as well. You were good, and you knew that when you could keep up with and even beat a lot of the boys as you guys got older. Tyson was your favorite centerman. He knew where you were going to be, and you knew the same about him. It was probably because your dad had taught the two of you how to play, but you liked to think it was some kind of special connection forged over all that time spent together dreaming and skating around whatever ice surface you could find.
A knock at your door almost made you fall off your couch. It was almost one am, and there was no one in Edmonton who would be knocking on your door at that time of night. You crept off the couch cautiously, and another knock, louder this time, made you jump again. “Y/N come on! I know you’re in there.” Tyson’s voice sounded through the door, and you stopped short before hurrying to open the door. “Tys? What’re you doing here?” His curls flopped in his eyes as he stared down at you tiredly. “Well Syd told me you couldn’t get the time off to come visit, but I know that’s bullshit, so spill.” He shoved past you as he spoke, closing the door and pulling you into him in one motion. You sighed into the soft cotton of his shirt, and his arms wrapped around you a little tighter. This was what made lying so hard. Besides how familiar his hugs were, Tyson had a knack for getting under your guard without you even realizing it. If he asked you right now why you weren’t in St. Albert you knew you’d probably tell him without much thought. “I missed you,” he whispered, “and there was no way in hell I wasn’t gonna see you, even if I have to smother the truth out of you.” You pulled back to look at him incredulously. “Smother it out of me?” He smirked at you, nodding. “I know you’re lying, and I want to know why. Who is he?” 
Tyson was heading for your kitchen as he spoke, and you knew he was looking for the Oreos you always had on hand. “Top left cabinet. What do you mean who is he? You’re the one with the relationship, not me.” You tried not to sound too upset, but Tyson saw right through you. Oreo fell out of Tyson’s mouth as he spoke, and he waved the Oreo in his left hand dismissively. “Yeah we didn’t last. She wanted me to change my phone background after like the third date. Got pissed when I wouldn’t do it.” He held up his phone, and you smiled. It was a picture of the two of you from last summer, when you’d made a trip out to Maine to enjoy the New England coast and Tyson had convinced you to go to every lobster shack in Portland, of which there were many. The two of you were standing on one of the rocky beaches in Portland, in front of an old lighthouse that Tyson had loved. “You know, Tys, she probably didn’t like the fact that she was dating someone who had another girl on his lockscreen.” Tyson shrugged, putting his phone back in his pocket and shoving another Oreo in his mouth. “My lockscreen is for pictures that are important to me. That picture is one of my favorite recent memories of us. Katie and I didn’t have any photos together that were worth a lockscreen.” You cringed a little bit. Hopefully he didn’t word it to her that way, because otherwise he was deserving of a smack, not just a breakup. 
It was hard to come up with a response to that, so you stared into your living room instead. Tyson looked out there too, and visibly brightened when he saw what was on the TV. “You’re watching that? I have to see this.” He ran into the living room and fell back onto the couch, gesturing at you. “C’mon shorty, reminisce with me!” Tyson pulled you into him when you sat on the couch, and you rested your head on his shoulder. It was nice to sit and watch these videos alone, but watching them with Tyson was even better. This was your shared history, and getting to chirp him for all of the stupid shit he did was so nice it was almost like high school again. The video ended and you started to get up to play another one when Tyson tightened his arm around your waist. “Why did you decide not to come out, Y/N?” 
“Tys,” 
“No, Y/N,” he interrupted, “don’t call me that and then give me some bullshit excuse. We never get to see each other all at once anymore, except this one week out of an entire year, and you bailed for no good reason. I know you could’ve gotten the time off, so stop lying to me and tell me the damn truth!”
Tyson’s eyes were lit up in anger, something you weren’t used to being on the receiving end of. He never looked at you like this, except maybe that time you’d walked home by yourself after his game one night and one of his teammates saw you and called him. He’d shown up at your parents house that night so mad he was shaking, and he was getting close to that point right now. You stood, and this time he let you. His eyes tracked your movements as you walked to the window, staring out at the city rather than looking at him. “I thought you were bringing Katie. I know you wanted me to meet her, Tys, but I couldn’t do it.” 
You paused, trying to decide how you were going to do this. It was probably going to put a ton of strain on a lifelong friendship, but he deserved the truth. Tyson stood, coming to stand behind you. He grabbed your shoulder gently to turn you around, and his eyes had become impossibly soft. “How is it that you’re so stupid and so hot at the same time?” You smacked his shoulder, an instant reaction after a lifetime of chirps. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He cupped your cheeks. 
“I’m in love with you, dumbass. Why do you think girls never last? Do you know how many of them tell me to choose between you and them? Like I’m gonna give up my person for a girl I’ve known for like two months.” He cocked his head, shaking his head at you. “I need my emotional support Y/N in my life. I’ve been trying to man up enough to tell you, and EJ has started threatening bodily harm. He’s tired of me pining and circling our Edmonton trip on my calendar.” That definitely sounded like EJ. 
The two of you stared into each other’s eyes for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. It had been years since you two had really laughed like this, definitely since before Tyson had been drafted. You hit his shoulder again. “I can’t believe you didn’t just tell me.” 
“Me?! What about you?” Fair enough. “Well how about I tell you now? I love you and I’m gonna be really pissed if the next girl you take out isn’t me.” Tyson rubbed his thumb across your cheek before leaning down to kiss you gently. It felt right, like the piece of you that left with him three years ago was back in place. “I love you too,” he whispered against your lips. You pulled him in close for a hug, and breathed in his cologne. “I guess I owe everybody an apology, eh?” Tyson nodded against your head. “We’ll head out there tomorrow. They’ll be happy when they know why.” 
Tomorrow sounded good. Tyson walked over to your pile of home videos, shuffling through them until he saw one that made him laugh. The two of you settled into the couch again, and you laughed as well when you saw what he had put on. There was a summer where you and Tyson and the others had decided you were going to be a band, and had gotten hold of Syd’s older brother’s instruments. The sound was awful, Syd the only one who could play any instruments, and Tyson’s singing voice had been enough for Syd’s cranky old neighbor to call the cops because she thought somebody was getting murdered. The concert you’d recorded was perfectly horrible, the kind of thing you considered sending to EJ so that he could give it to the Avs video people for their jumbotron. 
This was the kind of scene you had been hoping was in your future, and you were glad it was finally happening for real.
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cuthian · 4 years
Text
Becoming a Memory, Becoming a Treasure Chapter Three
Hi guys!
Thank you so much for the amazing response to this work! I promise I will continue writing as much as I can, but I'll soon have to return to doing SOME of my uni work too 😅
Unfortunately even a lockdown and a pandemic doesn't stop my profs from assigning essays and research papers.
See you soon!
Love, Annaelle
THREE
“Ein Freund ist ein Mensch, der die Melodie deines Herzen kennt und sie dir vorspielt, wenn du sie vergessen hast.”
—Albert Einstein
LUKE
Luke… Luke was reeling.
He’d always trusted Alex and Reggie with everything and all the while they were—they were keeping something as big as this from him?!
He wouldn’t have cared if they were dating, if they’d… if they’d fallen in love with each other—he would’ve been happy for them.
Really.
He would’ve.
He crossed his arms over his chest and stared out at the waves, pressing his lower lip into a pout.
He would have found a way to be happy if his ex-boyfriend and his other best friend—who Luke had been in love with for… possibly as long as he could remember—fell in love with each other.
They were the most important people in his life.
Luke loved both of them—he’d do anything for them.
He’d have done this too.
He wrapped his arms around himself and dug his fingers into his upper arms, doing his best not to cry. Reggie had been his best friend for as long as he could remember, had been the first person other than his mom that Luke had ever loved, and he’d kind of… he’d kind of taken Reggie’s attention for granted. He’d taken it for granted that Reggie’s eyes were always on him, and now that they weren’t…
Now that Reggie and Alex had something going on—because that kiss, little as it had been, had very clearly not been the first one—and Luke was going to have to let Reggie go. It probably meant something that he was more upset about losing Reggie—who he had never dated or even kissed—than he was over the fact that he was losing him to an ex-boyfriend.
And… and the more he thought about it the less sense it made, because Luke remembered that guy Alex had been seeing before their deaths and it hadn’t been Reggie. And yet… he recalled all the nights Reggie had spent with Alex, supposedly sleeping in his guest room, recalled Reggie getting kicked out because his father had walked in on them ‘hugging’—
God, it’d been right in front of him the whole time, hadn’t it?
“Here you are.”
Luke closed his eyes in exasperation and thumped his head forward to rest on his knees. He should’ve known that one of them would find him here.
He didn’t look up when Reggie sat down next to him, pressed close like he always did, like nothing was different, like he and Luke were still balancing on that razor’s edge between friends and something else, something new and terrifying and amazing.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He rasped, peeking up to glance towards Reggie.
“Because it’s not… It’s not what you think,” Reggie sighed. Luke turned his head a little more, facing Reggie fully. The other boy was blushing pretty badly, but he looked determined to say whatever it was that he had in mind, and Luke knew better than to try to interrupt.
“We’re not dating,” Reggie said, and Luke let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.
“Then what was that?” He demanded, sitting up straight to look at Reggie properly. “And don’t tell me it was nothing—that was clearly not the first time you kissed. And why… Why were you weird about it?”
Reggie sighed, rubbing his fingers through his hair—something he only did when he was stressed.
“Reggie,” Luke implored, and his friend sighed again.
“We’re not dating… anymore,” he admitted, and Luke let out a noise as though he’d been punched in the solar plexus, but Reggie continued nonetheless. “We… we fooled around and hooked up… a couple of times. Mostly when we were both single, and after a while we just... It was—” he hesitated, and Luke swallowed thickly, anger and jealousy and hurt buzzing under his skin, making him feel like he was virtually vibrating on the spot.
“Okay, look,” Reggie said, rubbing his hands over his thighs nervously. “When I… when I thought I might be into guys too, I… Alex helped me figure it out. Helped me figure myself out. It kind of just went from there, and then we never really stopped, and we rolled into a relationship for a while. But we’re not,” he looked at Luke with a pleading expression. “We’re not in love, Luke. We never were. It’s why it didn’t work, why Alex called it quits.”
Luke felt like crying.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” He pleaded, glaring at Reggie. “You could’ve told me.”
“It was weird,” Reggie whined. “You and Alex hadn’t been broken up that long when we first—and we didn’t—by the time we realized it was something that was gonna happen more often, something we wanted to be a little more serious about, it’d been years—too long to say anything without things becoming really awkward.”
“Awkward?” Luke echoed. “Awkward?!” He jumped to his feet and shouted, “You spent years sleeping with Alex and you lied about it, Reggie! Of course things are awkward!”
He regretted shouting immediately when Reggie shrank back, but it was too late to take it back, and more than that; he didn’t want to take it back. He was hurt that his friends hadn’t confided in him, that Alex had known how Luke felt about Reggie—more than Luke had, half the time—and had still fooled around with Reggie, that he’d… that he’d not cared enough to stop.
“I’m sorry!” Reggie yelled back, getting to his feet too. “I’m sorry, Luke. I didn’t mean—I know you and Alex were—it’s a big no-no, sleeping with your best friend’s ex, but he’s also my best friend, and I—”
“It’s not about Alex,” Luke cried exasperatedly, throwing his hands up.
“Then what is it about?” Reggie yelled. “Just… Just tell me what I need to say, Luke, and I’ll say it.”
There were tears swimming in Reggie’s eyes, and Luke hated this, hated fighting with Reggie, because arguments terrified Reggie, but he was—he was so angry.
“I don’t care that you slept with Alex,” he exclaimed, stomping forward to poke Reggie in the shoulder. “I care that he slept with you, Reggie.” He exhaled shakily. “You fucking dork. He knew. He knew how I felt, he was the first person I told—the only person I actually told and he… he was fooling around with you the whole time. Jesus, Reggie, I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at Alex!”
Reggie stared at him, wide-eyed and openmouthed, and Luke immediately wished he could take everything he’d just said back.
“How you felt about me?” Reggie whispered hoarsely. “You—you had feelings for me?”
“Have,” Luke admitted quietly. “Reggie, I have feelings for you.”
“Oh,” Reggie breathed. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Luke sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets and scuffing the toe of his Vans in the sand. “I told Alex, and now it turns out you and him were—”
“When?” Reggie demanded hoarsely. “When did you tell him?”
Luke blinked. “I—a couple of weeks after I figured it out. After we helped you sneak into your parents’ house to see Maggie? I think he figured it out then, but we didn’t talk about it until a few weeks after. And then when we got the Orpheum gig, I… ” he said slowly. “I was going to tell you after the show, even thought about just kissing you right there on stage, but then—”
“Then we died,” Reggie whispered.
“Yeah,” Luke whispered.
“We weren’t together anymore by then,” Reggie said softly. “We broke up a few weeks into January. Alex—we weren’t—it wasn’t working anymore. So he didn’t—” he wrung his hands together and whispered, “Nothing’s happened since then.”
Luke blinked.
Oh.
“Oh,” he said.
“Yeah,” Reggie nodded, pushing his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “Oh.”
They stood in awkward silence for a moment before Luke asked, timidly, “Are we okay?”
Reggie shrugged and looked up at Luke from beneath dark eyelashes, biting down on his lower lip so hard it was all swollen and red and shiny when he finally released it and Luke could not stop looking. “You tell me,” Reggie told him. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. We should’ve. Alex wanted to, but I wasn’t—I wasn’t ready to tell anyone, so we kept it a secret. I’m sorry.”
“No, I am,” Luke said immediately, starting forward to grab Reggie’s shoulders. “I shouldn’t have freaked out so badly. I was—I was jealous. I’m sorry.”
Reggie’s cheeks flushed again, and Luke’s heart skipped a beat when Reggie took a tiny step closer, so they were essentially pressed chest to chest. “I don’t think I minded that part,” he admitted shyly, smiling a tiny, hopeful smile at Luke. “If you’re… if you’re still, I mean, if you—”
Luke cupped his face in his hands and kissed him.
Reggie jerked in surprise, nearly falling over backwards, but Luke didn’t let him go, and then he realized Reggie was kissing him back, and it was—
It was everything Luke had hoped for and more.
Reggie’s lips parted and the kiss deepened, and Luke moaned, a little desperately, pressing into Reggie’s touch eagerly. They were kissing sloppily, Reggie’s arms looped around Luke’s neck and one of Luke’s hands slipped into Reggie’s back pocket, pulling the other boy flush against him and if they weren’t dead and invisible to everyone, it really wouldn’t be appropriate to kiss like this in public.
“Wow,” Luke blurted when they finally parted, chest heaving, staring at Reggie with wide eyes. “Alex did not teach you how to kiss like that.”
Reggie giggled, tightening his arms around Luke’s neck and rubbing their noses together. “How do you know he didn’t? It’s been like four years since you last kissed him, he could’ve picked up some new things in the meantime.”
“Hmm,” Luke hummed, leaning in to kiss Reggie again, softer and sweeter this time. “Remind me to thank him later then.”
Reggie laughed against Luke’s lips, and Luke couldn’t stop smiling either, couldn’t bring himself to pull away from him, couldn’t stop kissing him. Reggie, thankfully, seemed to be in a similar predicament and kissed him back just as eagerly, digging his fingers into Luke’s hair.
It was so easy to fall back into a deeper, searing hot kiss, to slip his arms around Reggie’s waist and open his mouth, to rub himself up against Reggie’s hip, slipping his hands down over his ass. They broke apart with a moan, panting, and Reggie blinked blearily at him.
“Okay, we cannot do that in public,” Reggie insisted. He glanced down between them, and Luke’s cheeks flamed abruptly when he realized just how much kissing Reggie had aroused him.
He breathed a laugh and pressed his forehead against Reggie’s. “We should’ve done this years ago,” he murmured. “We could’ve been doing this all along.” Reggie made a soft, small noise and leaned in to kiss him again, soft and short this time.
“We should go home,” he said. “Before they come looking for us.”
“Yeah,” Luke nodded. “Yeah.”
It took them another hour before they stopped kissing long enough to pop back to the studio.
---------
JULIE
She and Alex were on the couch, her feet on Alex’s lap as they watched F.R.I.E.N.D.S. reruns. Alex had been ecstatic to find out there were more seasons, and he and Julie had slowly been rewatching everything so he could catch up.
It was a nice way to and to get to know each other better.
Alex, for one, hated Ross with a passion that was hilarious to see.
“They’ve been gone a while,” Julie remarked when Netflix queued up another episode, glancing at her phone to check the time. “You think they’re okay?”
“They’re fine,” Alex snorted. “They’re probably too busy making out to notice how long it’s been.”
Julie laughed and shook her head, settling back on the couch to watch Chandler make a fool out of himself in front of a girl. “Is your girlfriend joining us later?” Alex asked after a while, and though Julie couldn’t blame him for the question—Flynn did spend most afternoons with them—she took the opportunity to tease him with both hands.
“No,” she chuckled. “Is your boyfriend?”
As she expected, Alex flushed and mumbled, “No.” She laughed and poked at his stomach with her foot.
Before they could say anything else, Luke and Reggie finally popped in, and Julie had to stop herself from bursting into laughter at the sight of them. Luke’s hair was a disaster, sticking up at gravity defying angles, his cheeks were flushed and his lips were swollen. His top was wrinkled and covered in sand, and Julie was pretty sure there was a hickey just on the underside of his jaw.
Reggie, if possible, looked even more ruffled.
And he was definitely sporting a few hickies.
“Well hi there,” Alex drawled, raising both eyebrows at their friends. “Have fun? Just the two of you?”
“Shut up,” Reggie snorted, shoving at Alex’s shoulder before sprawling on the couch next to him, one leg thrown casually over Alex’s thigh. Luke laughed too and plopped down between Alex and Julie, bumping his shoulder against Alex’s. “I’m sorry I freaked out,” he said quietly, and Julie could tell the words were meant only for Alex.
“Don’t worry about it,” Alex replied equally quietly.
They all fell silent and watched the tv for a few minutes—Julie diligently pretended not to notice the way Luke and Reggie were holding hands over Alex’s lap—before Luke perked up and said, “Oh, right, Alex, I need to thank you for teaching Reggie that thing, you know, where he uses his tongu—”
Reggie shouted incoherently and lunged across Alex’s lap to clamp his hand over a hysterically laughing Luke’s mouth. Alex burst into laughter too and Julie yelped as the boys landed heavily on her lap before they rolled off the couch and onto the floor in a messy heap.
Julie’s phone interrupted the moment, and they all looked at the ringing phone in surprise—Luke and Reggie’s heads just barely popping up over the couch. “Who’s calling you at this hour?” Alex demanded, leaning over to get a good look at the screen.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Be quiet,” she told Luke and Reggie, who had resumed their struggle on the floor, as she picked up her phone and the muffled shouting quieted down immediately.
“Hi, this is Julie,” she said cautiously.
“Hi Julie,” a woman replied cheerfully. “I apologize for the late hour. It took us a while to track down your contact information. This is Josie from Destiny Management. You met one of our managers, Andi Parker, at Beats & Eats a few weeks ago?”
Julie sat bolt upright.
“Yes!” she exclaimed. “Yes, I did. Hi.” The boys looked at her with identical, confused expressions, but she waved her hand at them, getting to her feet and pacing across the room.
“Hi,” Josie from Destiny Management laughed. “I just wanted to let you know that another one of our managers saw your video and would very much like to make a personal appointment with you and your band to discuss a potential future partnership.”
“That would be amazing,” Julie said, almost before Josie was done speaking.
Josie laughed again and said, “Well, I assume you’re not available during weekdays as you’re still in school?” When Julie hummed in confirmation, she said, “How is Saturday at 12 at the Water Grill?”
“That’s perfect,” Julie gushed. “I’m not eighteen though,” she added as an afterthought. “Would my dad be required to come along?” The boys were crowding around her, eager and excited, and she pressed a hand flat to Reggie’s chest to keep them at bay while Josie was still talking.
“Not for this initial meeting,” Josie told her. “Your legal guardian is only required to attend and give permission once we make you an official offer and contracts need to be signed.”
“Okay,” Julie nodded. “Perfect. I’ll be there. Thank you so much.”
She hung up and looked up at the boys with a grin.
“Well?” Luke demanded.
“We got a meeting with a manager!”
All three of the boys whooped in delight, and Luke rushed to hug her, lifting her clean off her feet in excitement. “This is going to be great!” He cheered. “We’re gonna be legends!”
-----------
MAGGIE
“Hey miss Peters?”
Maggie looked up from her laptop screen to find Josie standing in the doorway.
“What’s up, Josie?” she asked, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her eyes. She’d been staring at the screen and the Julie & the Phantoms’ various social media platforms for hours and her eyes felt like dry sandpaper. She still wasn’t sure what she was looking at.
It wasn’t possible—but she’d… she’d recognize her brother—and the other boys—anywhere.
“I got you that appointment you asked for?” Josie said hesitantly. “Saturday at 12.”
“Perfect,” Maggie nodded.
She looked back at the screen, frozen on a slightly blurred closeup of the guitarist and bassist. She wasn’t sure what this was supposed to be, or how—
She was going to find out.
---------
Start from the beginning:
Becoming a Memory, Becoming a Treasure:
(1)  (2) 
Or read it HERE on AO3 :D Find the next chapter HERE on Tumblr :)
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sunsetsover · 5 years
Note
ideas on ballum’s first date? and does ben enjoy running his fingers through Callum’s hair just as much as callum does? p.s hope your holidays improve 💕
thank you, they weren’t so bad but i’m very glad to be home lmao 💞
ok so i went a little bit overboard w this but this is me we’re talking about, it’s to be expected lmao but i did them in bullet points for clarity !!
so ideas for the first date:
it’s awkward as hell at first lmao
ben is still in a lot of pain from his injury because he isn’t fully healed, and also he’s lowkey a nervous wreck bc he realizes this a big deal for callum!!! but also it’s a big deal for him too!!! he likes callum!! he doesn’t want to fuck it up!! for callum’s sake, and the sake of their Thing that they have going already
and callum is highkey a nervous wreck for a multitude of reasons…. mostly it’s the gay thing bc it’s all so fresh and new and he still can’t walk around the square without feeling like ppl are staring at him…. and he realizes a lot of it is paranoia but also like….. he’s just split up w whitney, and everyone around walford knows them and knows him and what’s happened and like there’s just no anonymity….. he kind of wishes they could get on a train and go somewhere else, somewhere where they can slip into the crowd where no one knows them so callum maybe won’t feel like everyone is watching them and judging him but ben can’t risk going too far away from home yet….. which is fine it really is he’d rather be safe than sorry and it’s Just A Pint anyway not a big deal……. it’s just that callum kind of wants to crawl out of his skin a little bit….. no biggie……….
(but callum still goes on the date, because of course he does. he wants to go out for a drink with ben. he does. that’s not the problem. the problem is everything else.)
so yh they go to e20 (it’s not ideal but the alternate choices are the vic, which has too many prying eyes, and the prince albert, which is too much too soon for callum) and it’s really awkward at first bc ben can sense how nervous callum is - jumping at every noise and constantly checking over his shoulder and can hardly sit still
and at first ben is a little bit put out bc he hasn’t had a problem keeping a man’s attention in a Long Ass Time but then he remembers what he was like when he was in callum’s shoes and can’t really be mad at him lmao….. he just is maybe kinda sad abt it bc this date is Weak and callum deserved better
so after a while ben asks callum if he wants to leave and callum is like ’???? wtf no’ bc he doesn’t even realize how jumpy and distracted he is
and ben is like ‘it’s ok if you do, i don’t mind, i get it’ and callum is really just sitting there like ???
so ofc bc callum isn’t saying anything ben starts rambling like 'maybe this was too soon, you have just broke up with whitney and you’re still getting your head around things, i don’t want you running into things when you’re not ready’ etc 
meanwhile in his head he’s like ben u Fuckin Idiot!! u’ve fucked it up!!!!!!! u’ve pushed him too hard this is too much u should have just waited!!!!!!!!!!!
that is until callum interrupts his rambling by Very Firmly saying 'ben, if i didn’t want to be here, i wouldn’t be here’
that shuts ben up lmao
after that callum makes a more conscious effort to relax and actually pay attention to ben and it doesn’t take long for callum to actually relax and forget where he is and everything that’s happened and enjoy ben’s company
and ben keeps having a go at cal for making him laugh bc it hurts and every single time callum gets really serious and apologetic which only makes ben laugh harder :-(
by the end of the night they’re sat practically pressed together in one of those rounded booths and neither of them know how they ended up like that bc they were on opposite sides when they sat down but neither of them really care :-)
they don’t stay out too late bc ben’s still a little out of whack from his injury, though it’s callum that insists they leave bc ben keeps being like ‘one more drink’ even tho cal can see him drooping w exhaustion :-( poor ben just doesn’t want it to be over bc tho the date started weak they have completely turned it around :-(
ben perks back up once they’re out in the fresh air and immediately starts teasing callum abt the fact that he’s walking him home
“proper gent you, ain’t ya? i can’t remember the last time someone walked me home after a date.” “you’re injured, i’m hardly gonna leave you to walk home by yourself am i? what if something happened to ya?” “what, during the five minute walk between e20 and my dad’s?” “you never know.” “just admit that you’re hoping i’ll invite you in for a nightcap.”
callum kind of freezes up at that but ben just gives him That Look and a small shove and says 'i’m joking, callum’
when they’re at the door to the mitchell’s ben turns to him with this soft smile and says 'don’t take this the wrong way, but i think we’re a bit too old for snogging on the doorstep while my dad’s probably sat in the living room’ and callum laughs and looks at the floor all shy because he doesn’t feel too old. he feels like he’s sixteen years old and he’s just been on his first proper date and this is all new and exciting to him.
(he supposes it is, in a way.)
and then ben very softly asks 'wasn’t so bad, was it?’ and callum smiles at him and shakes his head and ben smiles back and whispers 'good’ and leans over and kisses him on the cheek - it doesn’t linger quite as long as the last one, but this one feels different. warmer. like a promise of more to come. and he can’t help but grab hold of ben’s hand as he unlocks the front door and squeeze it as they say goodbye :-)
and they’re both so fucking enamoured w each other in that moment that both of them forget to ask for a second date lmao
so yeah it’s a pretty good date in the end lmao
as for hair stroking!!
he never really gets into hair stroking at first on account of the fact that callum is just So Fucking Tall and he always has his hair covered in gel so he can’t just do it absentmindedly the way callum does…… 
the few times he’s tried it’s awkward and not at all suave and natural the way callum does it, and then callum will complain about ben fucking up his hair and ben will end up with a sticky hand and like… there are more fun ways to end up in that situation….
besides it’s not like ben isn’t physically affectionate in other ways !!! it’s just that hair stroking is more callum’s thing
that is until one day callum practically passes out with his head on ben’s chest and all ben can see is the crown of his head…. his hair lookin soft as hell… smelling good bc he just had a shower…. and like what is ben gonna do? not stroke it?
and he’s glad callum is asleep tbh bc he has to like… figure out what works best…….. bc it’s not like lexi’s hair and it’s not like paul’s hair and it’s not like he has much experience with stroking anyone else’s hair…. so he’s like. Experimenting
and then he starts scratching at the shorter hair behind callum’s ear and cal makes this little sighing noise and presses closer to him and ben is just like oh ???????????????
so he keeps trying different things and callum just keeps on making these happy sounds and pressing his face more into ben’s chest and it’s just like…. game over….. he can’t believe This is what he’s been missing out on
or at least it’s game over while callum is asleep bc ben is Shy and doesn’t want to make a bigger fool out of himself in front of callum than he does already……. but like once callum’s unconscious? it’s game over
and callum has suspicions bc he keeps waking up to ben’s fingers tangled in his hair but it’s weird bc like…. why does he only do it when he’s asleep?
so, because he has learned from his other half Sneaky Bastard Ben, one day he fakes falling asleep just to see :-) and sure enough ben hands are in his hair within minutes - he starts off just gently rolling a bit of callum’s hair in between his fingers, but before long he’s full on stroking his fingers through the long part of callum’s hair
and callum pretends to be asleep for as long as he can but after a certain point he just can’t keep the smile off his face
and ben gets all huffy bc he’s embarrassed :-(
but callum just laughs and kisses ben’s chest and moves closer to him so he has easier access to his hair and ben resumes his stroking Immediately bc it’s like instinct now :-)
after that anytime they’re cuddling they basically cannot keep their hands out of each others hair
ben even takes to scratching at the hair on callum’s nape in public (when they’re sat down ofc bc callum is still So Fucking Tall) bc he can’t get to his favourite bit bc of the gel :-( so needless to say ben very quickly starts to hate the gel and tries to convince callum to abandon it but he won’t bc he thinks the slicked back hair makes him look Professional
ben pouts about it but he also kinda likes being the only one who gets to see his soft floppy hair now
anyway long story short, yes ben likes running his fingers through callum’s hair just as much as callum does, it just takes him a little while longer to catch on lmao
💖💖💖
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heyyyharry · 5 years
Text
Doorman
(from the Couple in Flat 102 Series)
…in which there’s a new doorman, and Harry thinks he has a thing for Y/N.
Warning: I haven’t edited this before posting, also, there’s just tons of fluff at the end.
(wattpad link)
.
When it came to Y/N, Harry admitted he could get jealous for the stupidest reasons. It could be just a look one guy gives her when they were at a social gathering, or the way one of their neighbors touched her arm too many times during a conversation.
Y/N had told him too often that he had got to trust her if they wanted their relationship to last, and he'd also told her frequently that it wasn't her he didn't trust, it's them. The problem lied in the fact that she was so lovable that people fell for her very easily. She was kind, which was one of the many reasons why he loved her, but it got frustrating sometimes because many often mistaken kindness for affection.
It all began when their doorman Albert passed away and a replacement arrived only a day after that. This one was much younger than Albert, but still older than Harry and Y/N. Harry didn't know much about him, only that his name was Nam and he didn't say hello...to Harry at least. Albert used to say hello every time Harry entered the building. So his first impression about Nam was already bad.
He wasn't as good-looking as Harry (Harry thought so but he'd also asked for Niall's opinion so he guessed that was fair), nor as funny (this, Niall had also confirmed, what a good friend), but somehow the old ladies in the building liked him a lot, probably because he gave out this positive vibe to everyone, well everyone except Harry.
"Good evening, Y/N! Hello, Treasure!"
Harry rolled his eyes as he followed his girlfriend, who was holding their kitty Treasure, towards the lift, feeling Nam's eyes lingered on them until they were finally out of his sight.
"I fucking told you! He hates me!" Harry breathed harshly once the door closed in front of them and the lift started moving up.
"Because you've never talked to him, H. You can't expect someone to be friendly to you if you always give them death glares," said Y/N as she smiled at her boyfriend. Treasure meowed to agree with her mum, leaving Harry on his own in this battle against their new doorman.
"It's not like Treasure has ever talked to him! She's a cat!"
"She plays with him all the time."
Harry immediately furrowed his eyebrows at the cat. "Daddy is very disappointed."
Y/N didn't say anything, just snorted and exited the lift when the door finally opened on the 10th floor. The couple get to their flat and Harry searched for the key in his girlfriend's bag, which he was carrying for her.
"I'm not being paranoid," he spoke while unlocking the door. "You should have seen his face this morning when you left the building wearing that incredibly tight skirt. Well, not that I complain about that skirt, but it annoyed me how he didn't even try to be subtle."
As they entered, Y/N raised an eyebrow questioningly at her boyfriend. "Was that why you suddenly gave me your trench coat? So he would stop staring at my bum?"
"Yes, but..." He looked at her, trying to come up with a good reason but ends up saying, "I also didn't want your bum to get cold."
His answer made Y/N chuckle and roll her eyes. Yes, Harry Styles everyone, the one and only man she'd ever loved.
.
.
.
A few days later, Harry came home and finds Y/N talking to their doorman. She was too busy laughing at something that man had just said and didn't even notice Harry's arrival.
Harry clenched his jaw and intended to walk over there to interrupt their conversation, when suddenly Nam reached out and ran his fingers through her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear like Harry normally did.
That was the last straw.
Without thinking twice, Harry stormed towards his girlfriend and the other man as he called Y/N loudly by a loving nickname (because he can), which got her attention right away. Y/N smiled as soon as she saw him.
"You're home early!" She said, leaning in for a peck, but got completely startled when her boyfriend pulled her close and kissed her hard on the lips. Of course, normally Y/N would be more than willing to be kissed like that, but now she didn't feel very comfortable when her new friend was watching them. She slightly pushed him away, all out of breath and a bit confused too.
"Happy to see me?" She whispered with a soft smile, receiving one from Harry in return.
"Very," he answered shortly and grabbed her hand. "Let's go."
Harry completely ignored Nam's existence as he urged them both to leave, not giving Y/N a chance to say goodbye. That was when she realized what was going on there.
Once they'd got into the lift, she turned to him, clearly annoyed. "What was that all about?"
"He was touching your hair, Y/N. I should be the one to ask you that question."
"He was being friendly."
"What kind of friend run their fingers through their friend's hair? You don't see me do that to Layla or Trix! And Niall surely has never done that to you, right?"
"Fine...I won't let him do that again."
"Fine," he replied, not looking at her, which didn't seem fine at all. So she moved closer and nudged his side with her elbow, raising an eyebrow.
"H, are you really fine?" she laughed slightly when he kept a straight face.
"Yes," he said after a moment, this time, looking at her.
"Not mad at me?"
"No, you said you wouldn't let it happen again, and I trust you."
Y/N knew Harry too well, so even though she'd heard him say those words loud and clear with her own ears, she still felt the need to ask for confirmation once again, you know, just in case.
"You promise?"
He nodded, pressing his lips into a small smile and she did too before bringing his face down to kiss him on the cheek. He had promised, so she believed him, and didn't think about it anymore...
...well...
...until the next day.
Y/N cane home the next day to find him already home. That was weird because he had never come home before she did. Something smelt fishy, and it was certainly not the fish he was cooking in the kitchen. It's the fact that he wasn't doing it alone.
"What is she doing here?" Y/N asked as she stayed at the kitchen door, startled by the presence of their catsitter/neighbor/the weird girl across the hall/Harry's (not so secretive) secret admirer who just happened to hate Y/N to the guts.
"Sage's here to play with Treasure."
"Why? You're home, aren't you?" Y/N raises an eyebrow and stared the other woman down until she turned away because it started to get uncomfortable. "And she's not playing with Treasure, she's cooking with you."
"We're making dinner," Harry said and his choice of subject for that sentence irritated Y/N deeply.
"No." She asserted, wiggling her fingers between him and herself. "We're making dinner. Why is she here?"
As soon as Y/N had made that question, the answer hit her right in the face. She widened her eyes at her boyfriend, who pretended to look confused, yet she knew exactly what his intention was.
"How. Dare. You?"
"What?" Harry shrugged, though she could swear he was well aware of what was going on there. The indifferent look on his face got on her nerves, so she immediately turned to their neighbor and requested Sage to leave her alone with her boyfriend.
The confused girl fixed her glasses, looking as puzzled as ever. "But we're in the midd—"
"Jesus Christ, just leave, Page, or I swear to God..."
"It's actually Sage, but...okay...I'm leaving!" Sage raised both hands, still avoiding Y/N's eyes at all costs as she mumbled a goodbye to Harry and the cat before rushing out of their kitchen, and out of the flat.
Once she was long gone. Y/N turned back to Harry with a killer look on her face, letting him know he was now in deep, deep, deep shit...
"Un-fucking-believable!" She began with a sarcastic laugh and slammed both hands down on the table, causing her man to flinch and swallow hard.
He looked frightened. Good, she thinks. He should be!
"You invited her here to get back at me, didn't you?!"
"I did not," he lied, crossing his arms as if this new position would make his words seem more believable. Y/N had known him too well and too long to not see what he was trying to do.
"You did, Harry! I'm so disappointed in you!"
"Why are you making a big deal out of this? I didn't let her touch my hair!"
"Oh. My. God!" Y/N exclaimed, holding her head with both hands in a dramatic manner, which freaked him out a bit to be honest. "I fucking knew it! I FUCKING knew it! You did that to get back at me!"
Okay, now she's really mad, the little voice inside Harry's head told him. Y/N didn't get angry very often (thank God), but whenever she did.
She did.
Now the only thing inside his head was Justin Bieber singing, 'is it too late now to say sorry?'
"You're unforgivable this time!"
Okay, so it is too late to say sorry...
He could imagine smoke coming out of Y/N's head at the moment. Whatever he was going to say next, there was no way she would listen.
"You're not only an immature little kid, but also a fucking liar! You promised me you would let this go but nooooo you still had to find a way to get back at me!"
"But she did come here to see Treasure..." Harry began, knowing it was a bad idea to speak, but not knowing why he did anyway.
Sage might have come here on her own but it was him who had asked her to stay and hang, because he had known it would piss Y/N off. So...he really was wrong, no matter how hard he tried to deny it to himself, or to his girlfriend who was clearly not in the mood for his useless explanations.
"You knew she had been spreading false rumors about me, that she hated me, so you invited her here and played happy family, knowing I'll be upset! This is a competition to you, isn't it? You always have to win!"
"No, I—" She's right. Shut up.
"And not only that, you also brought Treasure into this! You are a terrible parent, Harry!"
Harry looked at their kitty, who meowed to agree with Y/N, making him feel much worse. Maybe he'd gone a bit far this time. Maybe his other baby hated him too.
"Y/N...baby..."
"Don't Y/N me. You—" she pointed a finger at him "—are sleeping on the sofa tonight."
Fuck, he thought to himself when she stormed out of the kitchen and a loud door slam followed soon after that. Once silence sank in, Harry let out a sigh as he looked at the kitty who was already looking at him.
"You don't hate me, right?" He asked her.
However, just as he finished that sentence, she stood up on four feet and followed her mum out of the kitchen as well.
.
.
.
It was getting late and Nam was drinking alone.
There weren't many guests entering and leaving the building anymore so nobody was going to report him for drinking during his shift. That was why he loved doing night shifts so much.
Nam was getting quite tipsy already when he heard the lift arrive on the ground floor. Harry stepped out into the lobby, wrapped around by a blanket. His eyes were weary and his hair a mess. He marched straight to the couch in the middle of the lobby and took off the weight of his body to land on the comfy piece of furniture.
"Are you gonna sleep there?" Nam spoke up. "Because you can't, it's against the rules."
"Well, I'm sure drinking while working is also against the rules." Harry yawned, not bothering to even look at Nam.
The doorman knew he'd been caught, so he couldn't tell Harry to leave anymore. Instead, he walked over to the distressed young man and took a seat right next to him.
"Trouble in paradise?" He asked, chuckling a bit at the grumpy look on Harry's face.
"Dude, I don't want to talk right now, especially to you, no offense."
"That hurts my feelings, dude."
If Harry hadn't been too tired, he would've punched this man in the face. Lucky for Nam, he was exhausted. His girlfriend didn't let him into the bedroom, and his cat was sleeping on the couch so he had had no choice but to come down here, still better than sleeping on the floor.
Harry raised an eyebrow at the doorman. "Aren't you supposed to be happy Y/N and I are fighting?"
"Why would I be?"
Harry snorted at the reply without saying anything else.
Suddenly, Nam leaned in closer. They almost shared a kiss when Harry pulled back just in time, even though he was very surprised by the other man's action.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked, eyebrows knitted together in confusion and shock, while Nam looked just as appalled, probably more. He quickly buried his face into his palms and groaned out loud, knowing it was very stupid of him to have made that attempt. He was drunk and hadn't been thinking straight (no pun intended), and Harry just looked so...kissable.
"Did you try to kiss me?" Harry pointed a finger at himself, raising both eyebrows and his mouth was agape because he still couldn't believe what just happened, happened.
Nam shyly nodded his head and mumbled a small yes, along with an apology.
"So you're—" Harry paused a bit, squinting his eyes "—not into Y/N?"
That question made the doorman laugh.
"Y/N? No! She's like a baby sister to me!" Nam confessed. "I'm into men...."
"Again?!" Harry exclaimed, facepalming himself. Then he quickly noticed how offended Nam looked, so he had to explain, "sorry...it's just...this happened once before...I thought someone else was also flirting with Y/N but he also told me he was gay."
"Fun." Nam chuckles then immediately stopped when he saw Harry raising an eyebrow at him. "Not that your girlfriend is not desirable...She's cute, she's just not...my type."
Harry sighed. Well, at least now he knew he was half right when he said Nam had been checking Y/N out, it just wasn't Y/N...
"Does Y/N know about this?"
"About me being gay or me being into you?"
"Both."
"She already knows I'm gay. At first I wanted to talk to you but you intimidated me so I talked to her, but she seemed like a really nice person and I really like being her friend."
"Then don't tell her you liked me..."
"Of course not! But let's be honest, it's not like she'll be afraid of losing you to me, you're obviously into vag."
Harry breathed out a laugh for how Nam had just said that with a straight face.
"That's not what I meant." He rolled his eyes. "Look, Y/N doesn't have a lot of friends. If she knows you were into me, she'll assume you're hanging out with her to get to me and not because you want to. I don't want her to be sad. So either if that is true or not, I'd appreciate if you don't tell her."
"Don't worry, I won't." Nam smiled then patted Harry on the back. "Y/N is a very lucky girl. And I'm sorry I tried to kiss you. I didn't know what I was thinking."
"It's okay." Harry smiled back tiredly, feeling kind of relief because even though his instinct was wrong once again, nobody else was after his girl.
However, she was still mad at him. So now he'd have to wait until the morning came to return home and ask for her forgiveness.
.
.
.
When Harry came back to their flat, he bumped right into Y/N the moment he opened the door. The first thing she did when she saw him was to wrap her arms around his torso, pulling him in for a tight hug.
"Where have you been?! Oh God, I thought you left me!" She said, which made him smile.
"You took the bed and Treasure took the couch so I had to sleep in the lobby," he replied, holding her chin up and pressing his lips to hers. "Also, I'm very sorry about last night. You were right...I was so fucking immature."
"No, no, I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have gone batshit crazy and yelled at you then locked you out." She frowned, holding his hands which are cupping her cheeks. "I might go to hell for this, but there's something I need to tell you...Nam...he's...he's not really...—"
"He's gay."
"No, he—" Y/N halted immediately and widened her eyes when she realized what he had just said. "Wait! How did you know?!"
Harry released a soft laugh in reaction to the look on her face. "He told me last night."
Y/N immediately exhaled, laying one hand on her chest, just like a heavy weight had been lifted from it. "He made me promise not to tell anyone, not even you. That's why I couldn't tell you, but I couldn't risk having you think I was cheating on you or anything, so I had to—"
Harry rolled his eyes then interrupted her rambling by pressing his lips to hers, shutting her up with a kiss. It would be a lie if Y/N said she didn't wish he would do this more often. When they pulled away, it took almost three seconds to finally open her eyes.
He was smirking at her when he said, "you were right, and I was wrong, and I love you."
"No, I was wrong, you were right."
"Are we about to argue to see who's wrong and who's right?"
"No." Y/N laughed as she rolled her eyes, palms laying flat on her chest. "Last night I thought a lot about what happened. You were only being protective of me, and at least you still loved me enough to even get jealous. Maybe in a few years you won't even care who I'm with and I'll miss you being jealous all the time."
"Hey, that's not true." Harry grimaced when he heard her. "I'm always gonna care."
"How can you be so sure? Maybe we'll go back to hating each other like we used to." She laughed between the words. But he knew somewhere behind her humor was something she was actually worried about.
Harry held her shoulders and leaned down a bit so their faces were at the same level, then he said, "I've always thought you're great, Y/N, even back then."
"Liar." She snorted, making him shake his head to disagree.
"No, I'm serious. You only annoyed me because sometimes you made me soft and sentimental and I didn't like the fact that I liked it. Now I don't want anyone else to feel that way about you, only me."
"Aww, baby." Y/N bit back a smile as she looked up at her boyfriend, but he jumped into her mouth before she could speak again.
"I haven't finished, Y/N."
She huffed and told him to go on.
"And I want you to know that you don't need to worry about Sage or any other women, because I don't even want anyone else. I'll love you no matter what and will always be overprotective when it comes to you, yeah?"
Her heart was filled with love from hearing his little speech, and she swore she almost teared up in front of him. Luckily, she started beaming instead, definitely unable to stop now.
"You were right," she said to him. "You have become waaaaaay too soft and sentimental."
"Oh, shut up!" Harry grumbled as he pulled her in and kissed her forehead, knowing she'd love him no matter what he became.
524 notes · View notes
thearrangment-phff · 6 years
Text
XXVII. Interview
January 2017
The meeting between Isabella and the Queen went fantastic. Though things were a bit awkward at first, the Queen's soft tone, warm voice, and smile put Isabella at ease within minutes. The conversation started with Isabella's family, as the Queen was well acquainted with the Luxembourg Grand Ducal Family, and then went to Isabella's job and finally Harry.
Though Isabella's words were genuine, the Queen was skeptical of Isabella and Harry's marriage. She didn't like the idea of an arranged marriage, but Isabella was a kind girl with good intentions. By the end, the Queen knew Harry would not break things off and the simple fact that Isabella cared for Harry, but she wasn't sure in what context completely.
After meeting with Queen, Isabella was instructed to move in with her cousin Louis and his sons until she would move to a townhouse with her ladies-in-waiting. Isabella had just finished moving from Geneva after a couple of days when Harry informed her that his father was going to announce their engagement to the world and they would have a photo call.
The eldest of her ladies-in-waiting was the 61-year-old Princess Christine of Orleans-Braganza. Princess Christine was a Princess of Orleans-Braganza by marriage and a Princess of Ligne by birth. Princess Christine was Isabella's father's cousin as the grandchildren of Eugene, 11th Prince of Ligne. Princess Christine was also Isabella's mother's cousin as the grandchildren of Charlotte, Grand Duchess of Luxembourg. So, she was assigned as Chief-Lady-in-Waiting, much to the dismay of Princess Charlotte of Murat, one of Isabella's other ladies.
Princess Charlotte of Murat was born a Countess of Ursel in the Belgian nobility and married a Prince of Murat in the French/Italian nobility. Princess Charlotte was married to the heir of Princes of Murat and she had no children. The two older women bickered about Isabella's outfit before settling on a nice blue dress and black coat for the photocall.
When the engagement was announced, most were shocked, few were happy, and the others were angry at the fact Harry was marrying. More so the fact that Harry was marrying a blonde girl with a title did not sit well with the public. But once new outlets and people starting writing about Isabella and figuring out about her family and her job the tone had changed.  
Everyone now loved the humanitarian Archduchess but within minutes of all the good articles posting, new ones emerged about her title. Everyone speculated that she would not keep her title and have to bow to Kate. They used the Duke of Edinburg as an example only because he was a foreigner and gave up his title to marry the Queen. Though they were wrong in that aspect because it was discussed already that if her titles would be taken away there would be no marriage at all.
Then pictures from Isabella's childhood and teen years were released. The Luxembourg Grand Ducal Court released a photo of Isabella with her grandfather Jean and uncle Henri from one of the recent family holidays in France with congratulations on the engagement. Another photo was released at Isabella's christening of Maria Theresa holding a screaming baby Isabella as holy water was poured on her head. Liechtenstein Principality Family sent their congratulations as well though they had no pictures to release.
The Belgian Royal Court released several photos including Queen Fabiola of the Belgians holding Isabella at her baptism, King Baudouin of the Belgians holding Isabella at her baptism with Queen Fabiola smiling at them, photo of Isabella in the arms of King Albert II of the Belgians with his wife Queen Paola next to him. Another photo was of Josephine Charlotte, Isabella's grandmother, and Isabella on her 10th birthday as Josephine Charlotte was born a Princess of Belgium. The last was a teenaged Isabella holding her first goddaughter, Princess Eleonore of Belgium, the youngest daughter of the current King of the Belgians.
Once everyone saw her ties to other foreign royal families the war between Kate and Isabella in the press began. It was a common girl v the titled Archduchess. Some pointed out lazy Kate v humanitarian princess. Another was shy Kate v flamboyant Isabella. More photos were published of Isabella with foreign royalty. The Belgians, the Dutch, the Spanish, the Liechtenstein's, and even former royalty like the Bourbons, the French, and even some found photos of Isabella's early years with British Royal Family members that she didn't remember.
It was agreed that the White Drawing Room in Buckingham Palace would be the best option for the photocall. Though it was a bit overwhelming, Isabella handled everything will grace. She smiled her the camera and put on a show for the cameras of a loving couple. The quick side glances, smiles, and whispers between her and Harry intrigued the press even more. They seemed like a loving couple and it wasn't entirely faked.  
Harry had his father and grandparents with him. Isabella had her parents and grandmother Yolande. Everyone saw the smiles on their faces, but to their families, this was another milestone for their relationship.  
When one of the photographers asked how she was feeling today, Isabella replied with, "Very tired, but very happy." While leaning more so on Harry. This caused Harry to move his body a little bit towards her, brush some fallen hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear again. A small gesture like that would later drive the world mad as soon as they were posted online. When Harry whispered in her ear about how she could take a nap later it made look as if he was kissing her on the forehead.
The interview was later on in the day, in which Isabella did get her nap that she desired. Harry spent an hour or two with Isabella's parents while Isabella was able to sleep in one of the rooms at Buckingham Palace. When the time for the interview came around Christine of Orleans-Braganza and Charlotte of Murat fussed over every detail of Isabella's appearance. Both women only finally agreed until seconds before Isabella sat down next to Harry for the interview.
There were a couple of minutes before the cameras started rolling where everyone got comfortable. When Isabella had sat down, Harry moved closer, leaving no room between them. Isabella put her left hand on her thigh and her right hand on Harry's lap. A movement which Harry sort of copied. His left on went underneath Isabella's left hand while the right one simply rested next to him. They were close but gave them both some breathing room.
"Your Royal Highness, Your Imperial Highness, first congratulations on your engagement," began Aimme, the interviewer.
"Thank you," replied Isabella and Harry.
"Can we start with the actual engagement? When did that happen and where?"
"On boxing day in Luxembourg actually," replied Harry.
"Yes, he flew to Fischbach to meet with me."
"Fischbach. As in Fischbach Castle, where the Luxembourg Grand Ducal Family was for the Christmas holiday, correct?" Asked the interviewer.
"Yes. Isabella's family were there so I was able to propose in front them. It was so nice to have her family there since not all of mine could be there."
"It was such a loving moment and a complete surprise. I knew he would come after Christmas and we would probably spend a couple of days together, but to be proposed the day after Christmas was a shock," quickly added Isabella.
"It was part of her Christmas present," joked Harry as Isabella lightly laughed.
"And the engagement, is how long since you two met?"
"Over 2 years now," replied Isabella.
"Yes, we were introduced by another couple over 2 years ago," started Harry before Isabella gave a big smile, "My friend from Eton had called me up one day and said that he had this girl he wanted me to meet. At first, I wasn't into meeting someone at the time. Then he said that his girlfriend completely approved."
"That made you agreed?" Asked Aimee.
"It did. They both have my best interest at heart and to know they found someone who they wanted me to meet was a big deal," smiled Harry.
"It was just coffee at this nice little place in Brussels. It was the perfect spot to get to know each other," lied Isabella but the smile made it seem so true that Harry almost believed it.
"Then it was a lot of text messages and phone calls back and forth before we finally met each other again in Geneva," confirmed Harry.
"For most people that would have been exhausting, was it like that for you?" Asked the interviewer.
"I wouldn't say it's exhausting to meet a man as astounding as Harry," smiled Isabella.
"I was usually the one to hop on a plane to Geneva anyhow."
"Yes, my schedule just didn't allow me to go to London for a couple of days so Harry would have to come to Geneva when he didn't have engagements in order for us to have time together," explained Isabella.
"There were times where it was difficult, but things did work out in the end," assured Harry as he turned to Isabella and gave a big smile.
"From the beginning, from the first meeting, was it a setup?"
"No. I don't think either of us was at that point to enter a relationship," Answered Harry as Isabella nodded.
"For the both of us it was more of an introduction, just to be friends. We simply started from there. It was the best decision at the time and it worked out perfectly for us."
"Our, I guess you could call them dates, where simply the two of us and a nice dinner that Isabella would cook prior that day. Things were simple and we both liked simple," stated Harry.
"How much did you, Prince Harry, know about Her Imperial Highness?"
"Not much in all honesty. Isabella and I never had a moment to sit down and get to know each other prior to us meeting in Brussels. But once we sat down and got to talking we found a lot of missed opportunities to meet each other back in our childhood," lied Harry.
"Sitting down and talking was the best thing for us because we learned a lot about each other and our families. We were able to connect more than either of us could have imagined by being placed in my small flat in Geneva," continued Isabella.
"Everything I learned about her family really taught me everything about Isabella herself. Just in everything, I learned about her family was through her and vice versa so we were able to connect that way."
"Was it easier, having similar backgrounds, to find something in common?"
"I don't believe we have similar backgrounds. It may seem like it because we were born with titles, but we had distinct childhoods," answered Isabella
"In the beginning, we both noticed how different our lives were. Isabella's family alone is a great example because I don't know what it's like to live with 5 other siblings," began Harry.
"Yes, and I don't know what it's like to grow up in surrounded by the press. But the family was a big adjustment for the both of us considering I have a very large family with common names. It honestly feels as if once a month I have to go to a wedding or christening and that was different for Harry," interrupted Isabella.
"Being in a long-distance relationship, how hard was it to keep things going and make things didn't drift apart?"
"Not hard at all," answered Isabella. That was a lie because in the beginning of their arrangement Isabella wouldn't hear from Harry for weeks at a time. They had no contact from the moment he left Geneva to the next time he came back.
"Isabella and I got to a point where we wanted to make things work. We both tried hard to make sure the other is heard and with any relationship communication is a big part of building stability," replied Harry. Those words were genuine.
"We chose to be together and we chose to make things work between us. Discussing schedules and holidays was a big part of making things work for us as well. Any relationship takes time and energy and we wanted..."
"We wanted to make things work and obviously we have if we've gotten this far," finished Harry with a little laugh.
"Obviously royal family members have married into other royal families for hundreds of years. With a marriage like yours, one we haven't seen in a long time, what are your thoughts about bringing modernization in the monarchy despite your marriage being an old custom?"
"Isabella's title has been discussed with family already. Obviously, the Austrian-Hungarian monarchy doesn't exist anymore and Isabella's use of the title Archduchess has been a delicate matter, but I don't think our marriage is either old nor modern."
"Archduchess officially holds no meaning in Austria or Hungary, and I know to some to use that the title is an insult, but it's a complicated matter in my family. Some don't use the title, others do, and in regards to our engagement I think brash to label our marriage as an old custom because of our family names and history."
"Isabella is simply a modern woman who I admire for both her strengths and weaknesses because they make her who she is. They've made her into the women she is now I should clarify and I couldn't be more pleased to end up with a woman like her," said Harry.
"Your Imperial Highness, you've worked for the United Nations for some time now. You and your family are famous humanitarians. What about this new role, where you're going to have a bigger platform, a bigger voice, what do you want to do with it?"
"I definitely want to continue to work with immigrants, refugees, and women's right. Nothing is simply going to change, but I'm simply going to transfer to a different role where I will have more eyes on me hopefully meaning more eyes on the issues. Now I'm just excited to learn about the United Kingdom and get to know it's people, but also learn more about Commonwealth nations," answered Isabella.
"There's a lot to do, but Isabella I know is up for the job and I have no doubt that she will be amazing at it," added Harry.
"Children?"
"In the future yes," smiled Isabella.
"You've met each other's family I imagine?"  
"Yes, Isabella's family is quite large and there were so many times where I thought I knew everybody but then I was introduced to another cousin, uncle, aunt. They were all so loving, so kind, and very supportive through the time we've been together," replied Harry.
"Harry's family have just been so kind as well. His father and Her Majesty have been good to me during these past couple of months. They were so welcoming, though I do have to mention I bombarded Harry with my family early on," laughed Isabella.
"She did. Bit overwhelming but there's just something so different about a large family that I was drawn to," implored Harry.  
"Yes, he met quite a few of them in the beginning and I remember thinking if he doesn't run for the hills after meeting them then there's something there to explore. Harry was able to meet them in secluded areas like Fischbach and Belœil and those moments were crucial to the both of us."
"Being invited to these family events showed me how much Isabella cared for our relationship essentially. I knew from the beginning that family was a big part of her life and to go to Belgium and Luxembourg to meet everyone was amazing."
"Since you've been together, the last 2 years, you've been abroad a lot," began the interviewer as both Isabella and Harry nodded.
"The beginning included a lot of stay at home dinners in Geneva. Then once I was introduced to her extended family there was a lot of flying to Switzerland, Belgium, and Luxembourg. The point was to have as little as a handful of people know where I was and Geneva gave us that privacy. We've just tried to stay out of the public eye as much as possible so it could just be the two of us really just getting to know each other. It definitely worked for a lot longer than either of us expected," explained Harry, though the second half had lies in it.
"Have you met the Queen?"
"Yes. Multiple occasions throughout my life, but she been such a great support since the engagement," began Isabella.
"Everything just clicked. They both got along so well and everything just went amazing," confirmed Harry.
"I got to see the Queen as both the monarch of the United Kingdom and head of the Commonwealth, but also as Harry's grandmother which is important also. My family, especially my grandfather Jean, have nothing but the highest respect for Her Majesty. She an outstanding woman who I have greatly admired since I was a child. One of my names is Elisabeth in honor of the Queen and my great-great-grandmother Queen Elisabeth of Belgium."
"What was it like introducing Her Imperial Highness to your father and your brother?"
"Isabella and my father met early on. Since the first time he met Isabella he was a great support to have."
"His Royal Highness was so caring and there was a time where things got difficult and the Prince of Wales understood, advised the both of us, and let us work things out. He's just been fantastic to have. My mother and father just praise his awareness and like his mother, they have a great deal of respect for him too," finished Isabella.
"For William and Catherine, I understood that it was a bit overwhelming. Simply because it was like that for me in the beginning. Learning about Isabella's family and their history it becomes fascinating but superabundant at the same time."
"It was a simple dinner with the Prince of Wales, Duchess of Cornwall, and the Cambridge family, which was lovely," smiled Isabella though that dinner had actually gone horribly.
"William has been absolutely supportive, and has even given me a few tips for married life," laughed Harry.
"Both of our families have been just such great support these past couple of months."
"And for your family, what have they felt about your fiancé?" Asked the interviewer to Isabella.
"My mother and father have been nothing but happy for me since the beginning and I have such an amazing support system. Which includes an amazing group of women such as my mother, my aunt Margaretha, my aunt Maria Theresa, and women such as my cousins Alexandra, Clarie, and Stephanie. With of course men like my uncles Henri, Franz Josef, and Nikolaus, my grandfather Jean, and cousins like Guillaume and Felix. It's a transition that many in my family have faced, of course not at this scale, but I have no doubt that I can put my trust in them and have their help in anything," answered Isabella.
"The ring. Can you tell us more about it?"
Isabella and Harry both looked down to Isabella's hand, "The ring. Well the main diamond was sourced from Botswana and the smaller diamonds surrounding it are from my mother's personal collection," responded Harry.
"A beautiful ring that Harry designed with others helping so every bit of this ring was carefully thought out with such care."
"And what does it mean to have those stones, that once belonged to Princess Diana?"
"An absolute honor in all honesty. Harry thought about this ring with such love because of his love for his mother."
"And my love for you," added Harry as Isabella gave a wide smile.
"Yes, and not having his mother here on this occasion, not getting to meet her as her son's fiancé, makes this ring a lovelier thought that she is a part of the wedding still. I’ve never met her when I was a child but I think I was simply the grandchild of another Head of State than Harry's future wife."
"I will add that both my father and grandfather also played a big role in designing the engagement ring, especially on such a short notice because I wanted to propose as quickly as possible. My grandfather designed my grandmothers and to have him help as well was amazing. My father helped in the final decision to have a combination of Isabella's mother, grandmother Josephine-Charlotte, and great-grandmother Astrid's engagement rings. Hence the four intertwined bands to represent those three women and Isabella."
"Another incredible gesture on Harry's part," agreed Isabella.
"What do you think your mother would have said, or thought about Isabella?"
"Just absolute praise from her on what a strong and loving woman Isabella is. She would be over the moon, jumping up and down, and just so excited for me. Probably would've been best friends with Isabella. There are days like this where I miss having her around, miss being able to share the happy the news. But with the ring, I honestly believe..."
"That's she with us," finished Isabella.
"Yes. Somewhere jumping up and down with excitement," confirmed Harry.
"Prince Harry, Archduchess Isabella, thank you very much."
"Thank you," replied Isabella and Harry.
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groundhog dave part 7 day five
Relief. Unadulterated and alien it washed over him when he woke up on February 2nd. Shame from upsetting Jack remained annoyingly in the pit of his stomach - he had still done the thing, after all - but Jack did not know. He wouldn’t say the wrong thing, now. He’d do better.
Because the day had still been useful. He was glad he’d dared to rely on the fact that it would disappear - he’d learned more about Jack, for example, namely that he was sensitive about how he came across despite appearing not to be (and having no reason to be) and that he was genuinely... a good guy. Dammit.
He now knew truths about himself, too. It made him cringe to think back over his four years at the station, apparently swanning around lofty and presumptuous, acting like he was too good for it all - humiliating, but fixable, surely.
There was still a jarring streak of gratitude through this embarrassment. Like someone pointing out you had spinach in your teeth - vexing, but you ended up glad that they pointed it out. Where “spinach” here equalled asshole behaviour.
Was that why this was happening? He had struggled, of course, with trying to identify the source of this thing, phenomenon, event - science? God? A powerful hallucination? If this were a movie it would clearly be a way to bring Davey’s attention to what needed changing in his day to day - and sure this was not a movie, but if he leaned into that point of view a little bit, what was the worst that could happen?
So he had already made a couple of changes. Taking the guys breakfast in the morning felt nice, and it showed that he appreciated their effort. Going with the flow where the weather was concerned, instead of getting mad that they couldn’t force the van through the storm? Way easier.
Shit, maybe Jack did have a point.
So he did this day almost - almost - the same as the one before. Not the underwear thing, though that had been novel and fun (also cold). He stopped for coffees, greeted the storm with a grin, told the guys that he was sorry for being an asshole on the way, then headed to the diner for just pancakes. Yesterday was a fun indulgence. Today might be the time to see what he should do.
They sat in the diner. Davey didn’t need to ask what he had desperately wanted to before, which felt good, and he let himself be a little glad that he had asked after all. Instead he could focus on figuring out how to built a rapport with Jack. He was clearly onto something - his advice about devaluing other peoples’ opinions was something Davey could remember and use, and it made him frustrated with himself that he had never thought to give Jack the time of day before.
‘So, you’re from New York?’ Not really a question. He remembered this from their first night out.
‘Yup. Born and raised.’
‘Why Philly?’
‘It’s where the job was, right? And like, why not. Something different.’
‘Wanted a change?’
‘Kinda. Like, feel like a change is normally a good thing. Shake it up.’
‘Do you go back much?’
‘What, am I being interviewed?’ Jack laughed quietly, tearing his slice of toast into halves and then quarters. 
‘Sorry, I just. Feel like I don’t know anything about you, which is terrible. We’re colleagues, y’know?’
‘Alright. Sure. I haven’t been back that much. I really like Philly, and like, once you meet a few new people in a new place it gets easier to stay. Aren’t you from New York too?’
‘Yeah. I moved for the job as well.’
‘Think you’ll go back?’
‘One day. Probably. It’s where my family are, you know. Old friends. Childhood memories, kind of thing.’ Davey watched as Jack stiffened, averting his gaze. ‘Not the same with you?’
‘I don’t really, ah, have a “family” in the sense of - in any sense.’ He emphasised the word family with air quotes, a move that tugged on Davey’s heartstrings. ‘But it’s fine - good, even. Maybe. Nothing tying me down!’ Davey hadn’t heard this in any of their conversations. He wondered if Jack was opening up because Davey had first, and marvelled at how quickly he had surrendered this obviously crucial bit of information once Davey had expressed an earnest intention to get to know him. Like it informed more of Jack’s life than he realised, maybe.
‘That’s a great way of looking at it. And awesome that you’ve been able to build bridges in Philly so fast?’
‘Yeah, I was a keen bean in my first week or so. Like, sending everyone facebook requests my first day. Went on like sixteen dates.’
‘Dates?’ Interesting. ‘Anyone I know?’
‘One or two from the station. Lisa. Amber. Albert. Not like date dates, just kinda. Drinks. Movies.’
A blip of white noise exploded in Davey’s ears for a second. Did he know that Jack liked guys? He would have remembered if it had come up in their previous talks. 
‘I - I remember that feeling. When you first get here - so many people, right?’
‘Exactly! All trying to impress each other and be heard. It’s wild, but I love it.’
‘I know what you mean. Sort of. Actually, not really.’
‘How about you, is there a Mrs. Creative Producer back in Philly?’
‘No. Um, it would be a Mr. Creative Producer. But there’s not one of those, either.’
‘You must meet so many people though?’
‘Yeah. I do.’
They slipped into a silent lull. Davey couldn’t tell what Jack was thinking but he was now casting his mind back over the sparse handful of dates he’d enjoyed in his four years of working (and of course those he hadn’t enjoyed.) He’d been out with Albert too, plus one guy from the research team, Specs. Then Skittery, the runner, and Darcy, the old weatherman. One a year, interspersed with the odd (very odd) match from Tinder or friend of a friend, and not that he was desperate or anything, but - that lack of direction, the frustration of feeling stuck, it was only amplified when he came home to his empty apartment or woke up to zero texts. Not desperate, but ready. So ready.
‘C’mon.’ Jack broke the silence. ‘Why don’t we go see what else Punx has to offer?’
It was still snowing. Jack was great company. Davey nodded and stood up.
As they stepped out the door Davey caught a look at the clock tower overlooking the main road. It was 10:30. Their conversation had lasted exactly as long as yesterday’s had, the one where he’d upset Jack (that, phew, again he thanked his lucky stars had disappeared.) He felt good, this felt like maybe how the day should be going - like he had started to realise what he needed to retain and amend from different versions of Groundhog Day, and the more right he got it, the more he felt like this ordeal might be winding down. 
Otherwise what hope did he have?
But. If he was leaving the diner the same time they had the morning before...
He paused outside the door, holding out his hand to stop Jack walking away.
‘What?’
‘Hang on. One second.’ He adopted a power stance, feet planted on the sidewalk, crouched down, ready. 
Jack shifted on his feet, glancing around awkwardly, pulling his coat round himself to shield against the snow. ‘You alright there, Davey?’
The puppy barrelled down the street, but Davey was there. He had to dive to the side just a little to grab it, but he managed to scoop the wriggling animal up into his arms, hugging it close to his chest as it squirmed and panicked.
‘What the heck - how did you see this little guy?’ Jack’s eyes widened as he watched Davey try to calm the dog.
‘I just - did. Here, can you?’ Davey passed the puppy over to Jack, elated that this bullshit day had given him an opportunity to do something moderately impressive in front of him. Jack held it tight, whispering soothing shushes into its ear, and Davey took a second to watch before nodding towards the direction of the motel. ‘I, uh, I know the owner. I think she’ll be this way.’
They continued down the street, and because Davey knew he could rely on the relentless repetitiveness of the day’s events, he was ready when the delivery man fell out of his truck and sent the boxes of cupcakes flying - haphazard and clumsy he managed to grab them in his arms: one large and flat, then four slightly smaller on top, they still landed with a crash but none of them hit the floor. The truck driver stumbled out and grabbed Davey’s shoulders to steady himself, gushing out an apology. 
‘Shouldn’t make me do these fuckin’ deliveries in the snow, listen, you saved my ass, you really - look, take one, they won’t notice if one’s gone,’ he took the boxes from Davey and flipped open the top one, taking a red velvet cupcake out and pressing it into Davey’s hand. 
As he hurried into the bakery Davey turned to look at Jack, keen to see his reaction and vaguely concerned that this might appear almost choreographed. Jack stared at him with raised eyebrows. The puppy strained up to lick Jack’s face.
‘This much adventure always follow you around?’
‘I think everyone’s just going a little crazy cuz of Phil.’
‘Is that right?’ Jack directed this question down at the puppy, and a weird, warm feeling started to stir in Davey’s stomach. Uh-oh.
He took a bite out of the cupcake as they kept walking back towards the motel and offered the other half to Jack. Jack struggled for a sec, trying to shift the weight of the dog into one arm so he could grab the cake, but the thing was wriggly and scared so he settled for saying ‘Can you just -’ and opening his mouth after a quick nod towards the cupcake. With the faintest blush Davey took the hint and fed Jack the remaining half, trying to mirror how casually Jack seemed to incite this physical contact but struggling just a little, and at the same time marvelling at how far their dynamic had transformed since the night before (well, you know, however many nights before.)
At the gate to the motel, sure enough, was the puppy’s owner, weeping into Mrs. Bloom’s shoulder, and Davey let Jack take the lead in reuniting them. He watched Jack grin from ear to ear as the pup slathered it’s mom’s face in kisses, before movement stirred from across the lawn and caught his eye.
Oh Jesus. He’d almost forgotten there was one more thing to prevent.
He crossed over to where he knew the man was about to fall off the ladder, intending to steady it so it didn’t slip into the soil, but he seemed to get there a second too late. The man fell, toppling backwards, landing directly on Davey.
//
He sat sullen in the emergency room, broken arm cradled in his lap. The day had been going so well. Too well. Almost perfect. But of course, it couldn’t be perfect, because this was Davey. He’d briefly fallen in love with the idea that being nice to Jack, and saving the puppy, the cakes, and the window washer, things he wouldn’t have done before this whole sorry experience, were the key to being liberated from this horrific cycle, but apparently they were just a ticket to actual bodily harm. Sure, when he’d ignored them the other day, it didn’t feel good but it felt better than a literal snapped bone.
He remembered with a jolt the day before, when he’d seen the man fall, that he had sat up right away proclaiming how fine he was. So he probably didn’t even need to try and save him? Talk about biting off more than you could chew. If he was bored with this fucking existence before, now he was actively pissed off by it.
Jack sat next to him, trying in sparing attempts to cheer him up but somewhat aware that the moody producer he’d known before was probably back for the time being. 
‘This has gotta be a good few days off, though, right?’ He nudged into Davey’s side, trying to draw his eye away from where he was staring at the grubby waiting room wall.
‘I want to be at work.’ He replied curtly. ‘I wanted to be there this morning, too.’
‘God, you don’t switch off, do you?’
‘I’m annoyed that I didn’t want to be here today and now I’m in the E.R., alright?’
‘You might have broken your arm in Philly? This might have always been written in the stars. 
You have no fucking idea.
He resisted the urge to snap at Jack, instead tipping his head back and letting out a long sigh. ‘You don’t have to stay,’ he said, staring up at the ceiling. ‘I’ll understand if you don’t want to spend your day here listening to me complain.’ God, just half an hour before he had literally been feeding Jack a cupcake. He couldn’t have asked for a better morning. How could he have been so misguided?
‘C’mon, I’m not leaving you on your own. They might put you on really strong pain meds, and that’s something I wanna see.’
Davey smiled. In the heavy silence of the emergency room he let himself dwell on two things. One: How much his fucking arm fucking hurt. Two: How in theory he had now spent five days with Jack, thinking about Jack, getting to know him and starting to open up to him, and how if this was normal life then he’d be totally justified in starting to feel something for him. He couldn’t have predicted any of this, not the cycle of the same day, nor the fixation on Jack that it would lead him to, and especially not the ability it somehow gave him to plan days with Jack that led to this weird almost-tension. Even now, sitting here, it felt almost natural and completely tempting to just lean into Jack’s side, thanks to that now kind of pathetic, sick-kid feeling that had settled over him. He felt completely entitled to some physical comfort, but resisted. 
The problem, though, was that was much as through this day he had fostered something new with Jack, if the morning came and it was February 2nd again, it would all be gone, and yet this tiny little inkling of a crush would still be there. And it would keep growing, because Jack would still be Jack. Davey would have the bad luck of having developed a crush seemingly overnight, in reality that had come from days of contemplation. How the hell was that fair?
‘Dave? Can I ask you something?’
‘Hmm?’
‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but... Did you ever ask not to be sent here?’
‘Did I...’
‘Like. You seemed really annoyed about it. But you never said whether or not you had a choice.’
‘I didn’t have a choice. I mean. I don’t think I did?’
‘Could you have found out? I know it’s too late now. But.’
‘I’m still a tiny cog in the machine, Jack, I don’t think any of them care what I want.’
‘But you don’t know, do you? Listen, I’m only saying because now I’ve started to get to know you, I can see that you’re not the dead-eyed producer-bot I thought you were. I feel like I know that you can do better.’
Davey opened his mouth then closed it. He sighed. ‘I’ve never tried. You’re right. I’ve never -’
‘David Jacobs?’ A nurse finally, finally appeared in the doorway. ‘You can come through now.’
//
‘You didn’t have to wait for me.’ He said this through a smile as he walked back into the waiting room and saw Jack engrossed in an old copy of Good Housekeeping.
‘Shut up, yeah I did.’ Jack stood up, holding out Davey’s jacket then reconsidering. Davey’s arm was now in plaster and tucked against his arm in a sling, so Jack draped the jacket round Davey’s shoulders, gently tugging it together at the front. ‘You all fixed up?’
‘Ish. Six weeks in this, which is hilarious. You’re going to have to drive us back if we ever get to leave this place.’ He walked through the front door which Jack was holding open for him.
‘I wanted to say, Dave - I’m sorry if I overstepped, what I said before. It’s none of my business what you do or don’t ask the executives. I just, I’d hate to think of you languishing in Punx for no reason.’
Davey laughed quietly. ‘Languishing is definitely right. No, I really hate to admit it but you have a point.’ It was around 3pm. The sun was blinding. The wind, cold. ‘I’m heading back to the motel. I think I’m done for the day.’
‘I’m sure you are. Can I walk you back?’
‘Yeah.’ Punx was small enough that it was barely a ten minute walk. ‘It made me think, what you said. I think that this... Me getting fucking maimed on the job - it might have given me enough fuel to. Y’know. Do something.’
‘Alright, I like it. Do what?’
‘Call them. Talk to the execs. Be heard.’ It had felt like an epiphany. It had happened as he sat in the X-Ray room, waiting for them to ascertain that the arm was broken (something he felt fairly confident he could tell them for free) - the realisation that everything he had been sad and annoyed and disillusioned by, in this version of this day, might be on the verge of being fixed. He had made a better impression on Jack and Crutchie, there was this new spark that he knew he wasn’t imagining - the last thing had to be his job. So if he could call up the producers tonight, make his case, tell them with reason and logic why he was better than this - that would leave no reason for him to have to do this day again. He would have learned his lesson.
‘I think you’d be really happy that you did. They really like people who speak up, I mean, you know that.’
‘I do. In theory.’ But then he had come to expect this day to repeat itself. It was one thing to think that he had this right, and quite another to actually be right.
Didn’t that just mean there was literally no harm in trying?
They stood at the bottom of the motel staircase. 
‘Guess I’ll go find Crutchie and fill him in.’
‘Where is he?’
‘He’s friends with basically everyone in this town; he’ll be in some restaurant or living room somewhere.’
‘Thanks for... Thanks. Today’s been bananas. In a... not-terrible way.’
‘You’re telling me. Give me a call if I can pick you up any painkillers or candy or, I don’t know. Grapes. Sick people stuff.’
‘I will. Thanks, Jack. One thing you can do?’
‘Go on?’
‘Will you sign it?’
With his good hand he dug a marker out of his pocket and handed it to Jack, who accepted with a smile. He waited for Davey to gingerly extricate his arm from the sling, and held it gently. He cradled Davey’s hand in his own as he wrote, meaning Davey could barely breathe as he focused on the dizzying scrap of skin-on-skin contact where Jack’s fingertips touched the very top of his palm, and his thumb imperceptibly stroked across his knuckles.
‘Here.’
It was a cartoon of a groundhog with a cast on it’s arm, and the message Little shit couldn’t predict this. Take it easy, superstar. Jack.
Davey cradled the arm back against his chest like it was precious. ‘Thanks.’
‘I’ll check in on you later, alright?’
‘Yeah.’ He took a step backwards up the stairs, and with a smile Jack started towards the door. Davey took a deep breath in, and said one more thing. ‘Jack?’
Jack turned.
‘Um. When we’re back in Philly, do you wanna - can I buy you dinner? Say thanks for waiting?’ An agonising pause. Jesus. Say something.
Jack nodded, eyes crinkling in a smile. ‘Yeah. Yeah, you can.’
//
‘Andy?’ Even as he spoke on the phone to his boss, even as he had a twinging broken arm laying across his stomach, and even as snow piled up outside and the sky grew darker despite it being not even five, a persistent smile played about Davey’s lips. The day was perfect. But... perfect in an imperfect way. Not a fairytale, but something like it. It was hopeful. ‘Just keeping you posted from the front line.’
‘Sure thing, Dave, shoot.’
‘We’re staying here through the storm. I’ll be working on the ACLU thing from here and I can send you plans and scripts as I have them. I, um, I broke my arm. So there’s that. If we could make sure Jack’s insured to drive the van back, otherwise we have to do something.’
‘Broke your arm? Jesus, Jacobs. Feel free to take tomorrow off.’
‘No, it’s fine. It’s fine - Andy, I need to ask something. I don’t want to wait until I get back.’
‘Go for it, kid, but quick.’
‘I don’t think I should be sent on these things anymore. I think... I think I’ve made my case for being kept on the big stuff at home. And I know I’ve always done it, but I think maybe that’s because I’ve never said I don’t want to. And I don’t. Obviously if you decide to keep me o these, I’ll do a good job, you know I will. But. Just in case you didn’t realise. I’m a good producer and I think I could be utilised better.’
God, another painful pause. People had to stop doing that to Davey.
‘I agree.’
‘What?’
‘You’re good at the Groundhog Day stuff, but I know you’ve got the skills to take on bigger projects. This is what happens when you don’t speak up, kid! We’ll talk Monday.’
‘Oh my god! Thank you, Andy, thank you so much!’
‘Get some rest, kid. Didn’t need to break your arm to get my attention.’
‘No. Right. Thanks.’
He put his phone down on the nightstand and fired up Netflix on his laptop before settling down carefully in bed. He could tell, he was sure that he had done everything he was meant to, particularly because remembering the night they had arrived in Punx, he never could have predicted any of what had happened this day. Tomorrow would come. February 3rd would come. He was sure. It had to.
Right?
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