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witchlyboo · 3 years

Text

Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Taglist:

@eridanuswave @cjand10 @deluxeplanteater @rorodendra @navs-bhat @coxxxxxpi @leviosatothestars

Thanks for all the love and support, if you have opinions, suggestions, or want to be part of the tag list (Or don’t want to be part anymore) let me know, I appreciate every message.

#ben hardy imagine #michael b jordan fc #tom holland x reader #timothee chalamet fanfiction #pedro pascal #logan lerman fc #definitely maybe #fluff #angst #timothee chalamet #Tom Holland #Ben Hardy

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forever-rogue · 4 years

Text

Of Princes & Berries - Part 1

A/N: Yeah, so I have like zero self control, and I’m so deep in my Pedro feels and Oberyn is one of my og loves. In this family we throw canon out the window. Canon? I don’t know her. Anyways, this will probably be like 2-3 parts, y’all will get some sexy times, so hold tight. As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know! xx

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: slight language

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

Popping a few of the fresh, succulent berries into your mouth, you received a tut and playful glare from the chef that was busy preparing various foods for feasts throughout the day. You gave him an innocent smile before putting a finger to your lips.

"Those are for the prince," he reminded you playfully, passing a jug of wine towards you, "those were imported just for him, best not eat them all."

"Oh relax," you gently bumped him with your hip as you loaded everything onto your serving tray, "our esteemed guest won't be missing a few of them. Besides, these are so much mode delicious than the ones we have here. Ours are so lackluster and have no flavor. These are practically bursting with juice and flavor. Maybe the best I’ve ever had!”

"Why do you think he specifically asked for them?" he turned back to the pot he was stirring, giving you a little sigh.

"Because he's the fucking prince of Dorne?" you started to lift the tray up to carry it to the gardens where he was no doubt waiting, "and he's got impeccable taste. Looks, taste, people throwing themselves at him left and right? What a life he leads.”

"Just make sure this gets out to him," he insisted and you gave him a small salute as you headed out of the dim kitchens, “and no detours to eat more berries!”

A small sigh escaped your lips as you stepped into the daylight and felt the sun's rays hit you and instantly warm you up. Everything felt lighter already. Most days in King's Landing were overcast and not this beautiful, at least not during this time of year, and you planned on taking full advantage of it. Perhaps later, when you were done with morning duties, you’d go and set by the sea for a while. It always relaxed something deep within you.

As soon as you spied the prince, staring out into sea, a smile grew on your face. You'd spoken to him a few times here and there, mostly in passing, since his arrival at King's Landing. He was a bright spot, a welcome interruption in our normally monotonous and drool days.

He always spoke to you in a kind manner, taking the time to ask your name, how you were doing, small things. But unlike most people in the court, he seemed genuine in his actions, kind even. He truly listened when you spoke, rather than just blowing you off.

As you approached him, a smile stretched across his handsome features when he realized it was you, causing a small flutter in your heart.

"Good morning, Y/N," he stood and offered you a small bow as you set the tray down on the table in front of him. It was a sign of respect; reverence. Proprietary would have you bowing to him, but he never was one for rules, "how are you on this fair day?"

"Your highness," you beamed at him, pushing a plate of berries at him, "I dare say my day has been much improved. What good luck it was that they sent me to serve you."

"Good fortune, even a wonderful twist of fate," he sat back and watched you intently, "or perhaps I made a simple request."

"A request," you raised an eyebrow as you sneaked a berry, which just made him chuckle at you. Normally, with almost anyone else, you'd never be so bold. But with Oberyn...it felt normal, right even, "you asked for me?"

"You sound surprised," he mused as you leaned against the table, trying to soak up as much sun as possible, "why does it surprise you so?"

"I don't know," you said quietly, "I just never thought I'd make that much of an impression on anyone. I prefer to pass by quietly, generally."

"You've made quite the impression on me, sweet girl," he said softly. You caught your bottom lip in between your teeth as his words fell over you, "I'll take every opportunity I can to look at that lovely face."

"You flatter me," but a content sigh escaped your lips nonetheless, "it is I who am in awe of your beauty, your highness. Surely."

“Now you’re just flattering me, fanning my ego like everyone else,” he waved his hand at you laughed at him, “I didn’t specifically ask for you just because you fall in line like everyone else.”

“I’m sorry then,” you playfully stuck your tongue out at him, “I shall never flatter you again. Nothing but complete honesty.”

“A simple request, no?” he teased, letting his fingers linger near yours. You studied his hands, the few scars that had marred the warm, tan skin. He was really was beautiful, such a sight to behold in your otherwise dreary life, “can I ask you something...perhaps too forward?”

“Yes,” permission was given without hesitation, and worry. Nothing about him worried in you in that sense. Sure, he was the Red Viper, deadly, feared, and brutal in his own way, but you saw past that...he was also kind, gentle, surprisingly soft spot and quick as a whip, “anything.”

“Have you been with a prince before?”

“I’ve been with many men who call themselves all sort of things,” you shrugged your shoulders as you poured more wine into his goblet, “kings, princes, knights, lords. You name it and I’ve been with one.”

“And have they lived up to your expectations?”

“Hardly,” you grabbed a berry and popped into your mouth, and raising an eyebrow at him, “the only time I’ve experienced true pleasure, it has certainly not been at the hands of a man.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” you sat down across from him, far overstepping any boundaries that remained. But Oberyn was different; he wasn’t like all the other princes and lords who spoke down to you like you were some sort of mere peasant. He treated you like an actual person. That in itself was enough to keep you intrigued; his delicious, warm accent didn’t hurt either. It was like music to your ears, sweet like the wine that flowed freely throughout the court, and much more pleasant than the harsh accents of the King’s Landing that you’d have grown accustomed to.

“You prefer the company of women?”

“I do enjoy the company of women,” you gave him a lazy half smile, “very much so. They’re beautiful creatures, soft, and warm, kind. Unlike men, they know how to touch other women, how to make love and make it a pleasurable experience, not just spend five minutes pounding into you until they’ve found release like a common barnyard animal. And then again, if all else fails, there is also the undeniable pleasure you can give yourself.”

“Very valid points,” he eat a few of the fresh berries, his dark eyes never leaving yours. A smile played on his features as relaxed in his seat, letting the sun warm him, “clearly you haven’t been with the right men.”

“Do you think you’re different?”

“I know I’m different.”

“Hmm,” you mused, “you’re very sure of yourself, my prince. Is your reputation well deserved? Are you as good of a lover as they all say?”

“I am,” a small smirk played on his lips as he crossed his legs, gauging your every reaction closely. He was curious, almost deathly curious to see what you hid under your cool exterior. You acted like you belonged in the court, under the direction of the Lannisters, but he could see through right through you. He knew you weren’t fully invested in your job or life here; hells, anyone that spared you more than a passing glance could see that much, “do you care to find out?”

“I appreciate the forwardness,” you gave him a wicked little smile of your own, “but surely you’ve got better things, and individuals, to shower in your worship. I am a simple servant, not worthy of anyone’s time, something I am made sure never to forget.”

You didn’t wait for a response before standing up and brushing your skirts off as you turned to head back inside. You’d been gone for some time now, surely you’d be attracting some unwanted attention any minute. You’d only been meant to serve the prince, not converse as though you were fast friends, shamelessly flirting in the open where anyone could stumble upon the two of you.

Oberyn was a welcome change to the cold atmosphere of the court you were used to. He brought a certain liveliness, warmth, and you swore more sunlight, with him. You could only imagine how wonderful it must be back in Dorne, where he got to spread that same radiance day in and day out.

“Where are you from?” he asked as you turned to leave. You paused and tensed up, surprised by the sudden question. He didn’t move as he waited for answer; part of you was tempted to pretend that you hadn’t heard him, but you knew better than to defy the prince.

“I’m just a servant, your highness,” you gave him a saccharine smile as you watched his expression falter slightly. It wasn’t the answer he was expecting, “I am from wherever I am situated. My job isn’t to have a personality, it’s to serve others.”

“That’s not what I asked,” he grabbed a particularly plump looking strawberry, took a bite before standing up and striding over to you. His caramel gaze was focused on yours as he gently grabbed your jaw with one hand raised the berry to your lips. It was a question of sorts, to see if you trusted him. Without hesitation, you parted your lips slightly, letting him pop the berry into your mouth. You let the juices coat your mouth before swallowing, your eyes never leaving his. Oberyn traced his thumb delicately along your bottom lip, wiping away the small bit of lingering juice, “where are you from, my sweet girl?”

“Your highness-”

“It’s a simple question,” he let go of your jaw, his face moving into a softer expression as his eyes slowly raked over you. If it had been almost any other man, you would have been disgusted, but there was some gentle about when it was Oberyn.

“Honeyholt,” the name of your birthplace fell off your lips almost like a whisper, and your eyes darted around to make sure no one had heard. When you worked for the Lannisters, personal matters as such were best left unsaid; they paid you, albeit barely, for your service, not to moan about your previous life.

“That’s rather far from here,” he mused and you shrugged lightly. You were a a child, a mere young thing the last time you had visited your place of origin. You didn’t remember enough of it to truly miss. King’s Landing had been your home since, “what brings you here, to the harsh life of the court?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” you bit your lip, unsure of how far he wanted you to go into detail, “I...was brought here by parents. They needed the money, and I was their only source of commodity. For them it was an easy decision. I haven’t seen them since.”

“I could tell you were not from this forsaken place,” you wondered what he meant, how easily he could tell you were different. You’d spent most of your life trying to blend and not stick out, you’d thought you’d been doing a fairly decent job. Most people didn’t spare you a passing glance, unless they desired something from you.

“And just how is that, if you don’t my asking?”

“You’re much too beautiful to be from here,” he answered and your entire body suddenly felt like it was on fire. You turned your head, gaze intently trained on the cracked ground of the aging palace as you avoided his inquisitive looks. He reached over and with a few gentle fingers tilted your chin up to face him, “do not shy away from your beauty.”

“I do not,” your voice was but a whisper, “people do not usually show me such...reverence.”

“You have kind eyes,” he carried on, “the sweetest smile, hair fair more beautiful than the Lannister gold they love so much here. Your accent gives you away, it is very slight, but anyone with a keen ear will be able to pick up on it. These barbarians here no doubt have come to ignore it.”

“You...” no one had pointed out that fact that you have a slight lilt to your voice in years. You’d lost the majority of any accent as a child, having come to court as such a young one, and being surrounded by nothing but the gruff voices of the crownlands.

“And if you don’t mind my saying so,” he took a step closer and ran a gentle hand down your body, fingers grazing down your side and sending a shiver down your spine, “a figure that any man or woman would be blessed by the gods to know. Beautiful breasts, a round bottom, lovely thighs, I can only imagine how exquisite everything I’m not seeing is.”

His large hand gave your ass a firm squeeze, and a small sound escaped your lips; a mixture of surprise and pleasure. He was forward, there was no doubt about that, but nothing about it felt...wrong, or unwelcome. You could tell he was making sure every touch and word off of his lips that he was making sure you were okay with it. And you were. Everywhere he went, women, and men, fawned over him, dying for even a bit of affection and attention from the prince. Here you were, having down nothing and you were the object of his desire.

“You flatter me far more than I deserve, your highness,” your cheeks were on fire as he smiled at you, trying to reassure you that his affection was well deserved.

“Please,” he insisted, bringing a hand back up to your face, “enough with the formalities. Oberyn.”

“Oberyn,” you repeated, enjoying how it felt on your tongue, so sweet and foreign, much more interesting than anyone you encountered through your daily duties.

“What was your name?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you insisted, but he was not fooled by your attempts at deflection. Instead, he leaned against the carved marble pillar, arms crossing his chest as he analyzed you, “you know my name.”

“My dear, sweet little one,” you sighed lightly at the sound of his voice, so rich and warm, hitting each last nerve within you, “everyone has a name. It means something, even if that of a bastard.”

“What if I don’t want to have a name? What if I want to be no one?” you shrugged as you leaned against the column facing him, “what if I want to hide in the shadows?”

“Y/N,” your name had never sounded more lovely or magical than when it came off of his lips. It sounded pretty, beautiful almost, “it matters. You should be proud of who you are...unless you are some sort of monster, which I already know you are not.”

“You already know my name.”

“And you know exactly what I’m referring to you. I am a prince, sweet one, not a fool.”

“Flowers,” you gave him a soft smile, “just like all bastards of the Reach.”

“But you’re not a bastard,” he pointed out as you nodded, “so why do you claim the name?”

“So I can be no one.”

“You, my sweet girl,” he was by your side again in no time, leaning only mere inches between the two of you. He smelled warm and sweet, likes spices and exotic fruit. Enchanting. Lovely, “are destined to be so much more than no one.”

“I assure you, it doesn’t matter,” you said after a few beats of silence, “my family was once one of the many great houses, just like so many others. But they fell and were broken apart over the years. The remainder of them are common merchants now. It’s easier to claim the name of a bastard than to receive pity for your family’s misfortunes from the likes of Lannisters and Starks and whomever else.”

“I am sure you far outshine them in every way,” he pushed a few locks of your hair out of your face, “your kindness is fair greater.”

“I...I know why you’re here, your hi- Oberyn,” you were scared that you had overstepped your boundaries, but weren’t able to hold back your tongue. He was so forward and open with you, surely he wouldn’t mind if you did the same.

“And why is that?” his curiosity was piqued as he tried to read your expression.

“Your sister,” you answered softly and he shifted on his feet, shoulders tensing slightly, “I used to work for her...when I was just a child...before. She was the kindest woman I had ever met, gentle and sweet to everyone she ever encountered. Beautiful to no ends and her smile could light up the entire kingdom. Her babes were just as sweet, they would grown up to be the kindest people.”

“You knew Elia?” he was quieter now, and had a soft pang to his voice. He still missed and longed for his sister. Even though she had been gone for some time now, he still mourned for her and her children every day.

“She’s probably the reason I’m still alive,” you admitted, “she took me under her wing when I was brought here. I miss her too. I cannot imagine the sadness and burden it must have placed upon you and I would not dare to imagine. But I know how hard it was on someone like me, just a servant.”

“I think of her every day,” he admitted, “I know I cannot get her back, but it doesn’t dull the pain; Dorne has mourned her loss every day. Instead we must honor the memory of those we’ve lost, instead of letting grief consume us, no?”

“Yes,” you agreed, placing a small smile back on your face. You hadn’t meant to bring the mood down, but you wanted to let him know where you stood, that you were on his side, “I...I blame myself some days. When they attacked...I just ran and hide. I ran and ran and ran until it felt like I couldn’t breathe and then I hid and waited, waited till the smoke had cleared and it was safe to come out. I didn’t even try to help her or her babies. I just wonder if...I had stayed if I could have done something.”

“You were a child,” he could imagine the horrors you had seen, all the thoughts and emotions that had stayed with you throughout the years, “it was not your place to do anything. You protected yourself; it is our instinct to flee and hide, especially as children.”

“I was a coward.”

“You were a child,” he repeated firmly, “you were not a coward and it was not your duty to protect anyone. They should have protected you.”

You weren’t even aware of the fact that a few tears had rolled down your cheeks, but Oberyn was quick to wipe them away. He brushed a thumb over your cheeks, in such a soft and intimate gesture, offering you a small, reassuring smile in return. You put your hand on his wrist and gave it a firm squeeze, “thank you.”

“Y/N,” you almost jumped out of skin at the sound of Cersei’s grating voice. Swiftly wiping the rest of your tears away with the back of your hand, you took a step back from the prince, who seemed completely nonplussed, “surely you’ve got other duties to attend to. I’m sure the prince’s wine and berry need has been satiated for now. We know where to find you if we want more. Go on and apologize to his highness for your folly and distraction.”

Your eyes widened in surprise as you let out a shaky breath and gave her a nod. She had her trademark smirk on her face and you wished you could slap it off of her pinched features. She really was cruel down to her core, and you often wondered when the last bits of humanity had left her. You wondered how much she had seen or heard. Hopefully not enough to warrant any sort of punishment.

Instead, you gave her a nod and small bow before turning back to Oberyn, “I apologize for my indiscretions, your highness. Please let me know if I can be of service at any time.”

“What did I tell you, my sweet girl, call me Oberyn,” he was not bothered by Cersei in the slightest and her jaw dropped in surprise. You couldn’t hide the small smile that crept onto your face, “and do not apologize for a conversation I have initiated. Surely even the lovely Cersei can understand that people enjoy conversation.”

“I...yes,” you returned his warm smile, unable to contain yourself and enjoying the little thrill that defying Cersei had placed in your bones. He reached for your hand and placed a kiss, chaste kiss to the back of it. You knew Cersei must have been dying on the inside at the exchange, frankly, so were you, “thank you, Oberyn.”

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised, making it a point to look directly at Cersei, who was fuming silently. If she had been a kettle, steam would have been exploding out of her ears, “I’ll find you.”

Just before you could turn to return to the kitchen and go about the rest of your daily duties, Oberyn trailed his fingers over your face, letting his gaze linger on your lips, “until later, dear Y/N.”

You turned to go back inside without another word, a bounce in your step at what had just happened. But just before you got inside, you heard him call after you, “I’m glad you enjoyed my berries, sweet girl!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn x reader #prince oberyn #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #got #i am shameless but idc

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huffletiika · 6 years

Text

Hello, stranger.

GASTINA / UNIVERSITY AU

There’s a new app at the campus that allows you to chat with some other student it matches you with according to your hobbies and likes. Nina logs in this app to prove Luna wrong and ends up talking all night long with a very interesting stranger. Little she knows this guy is Gaston, her high school crush, who is also Matteo’s (Luna’s boyfriend) best friend.

So, this is it... this is the last chapter. It took me ages to finish this multi-chapter, and I’m sorry about that, but there have been many things happening in my life, and well... shit happens. This one is specially dedicated for the Gaston to my Nina @silveranchor ... I love you so much. I have an idea to write my version of season 3 with Gastina, but I would like you to tell me if you want it. I, of course, am going to keep writing Soy Luna fanfics, I don’t care if the show is over, so I’m still here with some content for those still interested.

[Other Chapters]

CHAPTER 12 - ABOUT SHOCKING REVELATIONS AND FRAMED POEMS

Shit, shit, shit!

With an apology that he should be receiving and not giving, he stormed out the lockers room, leaving his friend Ramiro standing there, looking at his back with confusion. The Chilean had the amazing idea of interrupting him and Nina right after she told him she was Felicity, when he was barely recovering from the shock caused by her revelation, just to tell him something about some skating exhibition he thought they should go together.

He wanted to kill him.

But then, after he spent several minutes trying to explain the other guy that they could talk later (or never) about that stupid competition, that he was doing something very important at the moment, he turned around to look for Nina and tell her to go talk somewhere else, and realized she wasn’t there anymore. Where did she go? What if she thought he wasn’t happy about her being Felicity? What if he couldn’t explain her that his reaction was only caused by shock and not disgust? He needed to find her.

With his attention focused on finding her, he couldn’t see the person standing on his way until it was too late and he crashed into her. “I’m sorry, I…” he started to form an apology, but then his eyes recognized her face, and he couldn’t help but show his annoyance. “May you move so I can…?” he sharply said, and then made a gesture to continue his path, but she took his arm and stopped his escape.

“Gastón, please,” his ex-girlfriend begged. “We need to talk.”

“I have nothing to talk with you, Delfina,” he replied, his eyes still wandering around the rink, looking for Nina. “And I’m a little bit busy right now, so…”

She interrupted him with an exasperated snort. “Could you please leave your stupid pride aside for just a minute, and listen to me?” she burst out. “I’m trying to apologize over here, do the things right, but you seem to be more interested in whatever you are looking for, instead of giving me the chance to tell you what I have to say,” she continued. “I told Pedro this was a bad idea, but of course I had to leave him convince me-“

“Pedro?” this time it was him who interrupted her. “The drummer of the Roller Band?” he asked, confused. What does he have to do with all of this? He couldn’t understand it. The guy was really nice, and he liked him very much, so thinking about them being close felt a little weird, like he entered into another dimension.

“Seriously? I’m telling you that I’m trying to apologize, and that’s all you catch from my words?” Delfina rolled her eyes, and sighed. “Yes, Pedro from the Roller Band. We are kind of dating,” she explained. “You know Simón is Ámbar’s boyfriend, and one day they had this amazing idea of organizing a double date, and I wasn’t very into it at first, but then I started talking with him and we… well, we somehow started to like each other, and, you know-,” she shook her head, like she couldn’t believe how much she had told him about her relationship with the other guy. “Anyway, we were talking the other day, and he told me that he understood why I did what I did, but that you deserved an apology, so that’s what I’m doing right now, but you seem to not care at all, and I just can’t believe I really thought it was a good idea,” she complained.

Gastón decided to stop looking for Nina, just for a while, and listen to what Delfi had to say.

“Ok, I’m listening,” he said, and she seemed to be shocked at first, but then nodded.

“Look, I was mad at you for being so… well, for overreacting and breaking up with me because of such stupid thing,” she started.

“Stupid thing?” Gastón couldn’t believe her.

“Okay, it wasn’t that stupid, but that’s what I thought at that moment,” she explained. “Look, I thought you wouldn’t like me if I was… you know, like I always was. And you were so excited about those things I could barely understand about, that I started to pretend I cared about them too, thinking that you would end up liking me so much you wouldn’t care about those little white lies I said…” He frowned at her, and she rolled her eyes. “I get it, they weren’t little white lies. I know that now,” she looked at him waiting for his response, and when he nodded, she took a deep breath. “I should have known you were right about being mad at me, and that with those things I said I would cause you a lot harm. I’m sorry about that, I really am, and just so you know I’ve told the people I know that those are all lies, so I hope those rumors fade away soon,” she concluded, looking at him with a pout.

Gastón decided that there was no need to stay mad at her, to keep holding hard feeling towards the girl he used to like, so he put his hand on her shoulder.

“You’re forgiven,” he said, smiling down at her.

Delfi smiled back.

“Good,” she said, with relief. “Anyway, I will leave you alone now, so go do whatever you were doing.”

Suddenly, he remembered he was looking for Nina before crashing into Delfi, and nodded. “Tell Pedro I said hi,” he said as farewell, and skated around the rink, trying to find the shy girl at the sea of people. But, she wasn’t there.

After taking off his skates, he found Matteo and Luna at the couches of the cafeteria, sharing a milkshake and laughing about something, lost in their own personal bubble of happiness and cheesiness.

He approached them

“Hey, have you seen Nina?” Gastón asked at Luna, out of breath, and the girl frowned.

“I thought she was with you,” she said, with concern.

“She was,” he explained. “We were talking, and she told me the truth about felicity, but Ramiro came in and interrupted us.”

“What truth about Felicity?” Matteo asked, confused, but his girlfriend was too worried about her best friend to hear him. “And? Why did she leave?” she asked, reaching for her phone, and he shrugged.

“I don’t know, I looked for her after I got rid of Ramiro, but she was already gone,” he messed up his hair. “I searched for her all around the rink, but she is not there, and she isn’t here as well, and…” he led out a frustrated grunt.

“Ok, let me call her…” Luna dialed to her best friend, but it went to voicemail. “She might have turned it off,” she said.

“Is any of you going to explain me what’s going on?” Matteo asked again, as Gastón stood up and started to walk in circles. Luna sighed. “Nina is Felicity,” she explained him.

Matteo`s jaw dropped.

“Nina is Felicity?” he looked at Gastón. “Your Felicity?” he asked, and he nodded. “Oh my God, so you thought you were in love of two girls, but they were the same person? that’s awesome!” he celebrated, but then looked at Luna. “Wait, you knew about this and didn’t tell me? I told you everything about Gastón struggles, about how hurt he was, and you kept all this info for yourself…” He seemed to be mad, like he was going to start an argument with his girlfriend because of him, so Gastón intervened.

“It wasn’t her secret to tell, Bro,” he said, and smiled at Luna. “You couldn’t give your best friend away, could you? she had to be the one to tell me the truth, and I understand that.” The girl nodded, looking at her boyfriend with concern, and he did the same. “You would have done the same for me,” he raised his eyebrows at the Italian, and he sighed.

“Yeah, you are right,” Matteo kissed his girlfriend forehead. “I’m sorry,” he said, and she shook her head, and kissed his chin. “It’s okay,” she replied, with heart eyes.

Gastón had to clear his throat, or the couple would have started to make out right in front of him, with the intensity they were looking at each other, when he really needed them to help him. They glanced back at him, looking at him like they had just noticed he was still there, when it hadn’t been even a minute since they went into deep space.

“So… Nina…” he reminded them, and Luna seemed confused at first.

“Oh right, right! Well, she is not picking up her phone, let me see if she sent me any message,” she checked whatsapp, and jumped with excitement when she saw a message from her best friend, but then her happiness faded away as she read it. Gastón got very anxious. “She said she had to leave, that she told you the truth so she needed to be alone to think,” she explained him, and a resolution got into his head: he would go to her dormitory and tell her what he felt, he needed her to see that he was in love with her.

“Ok, perfect… then I will get a taxi and go to your dor-“

Luna interrupted him.

“She is not there,” she said, and he froze. He had already walked a couple of steps towards the exit. “Nina said she would spend the night with her dad.”

He hesitated for a second, but then nodded. Well, he didn’t expect to meet her parents in a while, but if that was the only way to talk to her that night, he would go to meet everyone in her family, even the dog, he just needed to do it.

“It’s ok, just give me his address…” he said, but Luna shook her head.

“I don’t know where her father lives,” she said, and both boys looked at her with confusion. Wasn’t her Nina’s best friend? She should know those things, both of them have spent so much time in each other parent’s houses that they have been unofficially adopted by the other’s families. Luna noticed their looks and sighed. “Her dad works in Miami,” she explained. “So, when he comes to Buenos Aires he stays in different places. If it’s just for a week or so he stays in a hotel, but when it’s longer, he rents some apartment. Sometimes he invites me to go have lunch with them, but I haven’t had time these days.”

Frustration took possession of him.

“So, that’s it? I can’t talk with her tonight? I will have to wait for other day?” he asked, and Luna shrugged. He already knew the answer to his questions.

He didn’t sleep, at all.

Every couple of minutes he rolled on his bed and looked for his phone at the nightstand, hoping she would turn her phone on, so he would get a notification to call her. But it didn’t happen, and when he walked through the campus to get to his own lectures, he was looking more like a zombie than an actual human being.

The coffee in his hand was his only hope to survive all day.

Gastón tried to call her again in the morning, but it went directly into the voicemail. He also tried to go to one of her morning classes, wait there for her to arrive, but she didn’t, and instead he had to endure having a conversation with that Xavi guy.

He deserved an award for being polite and not starting a discussion with said individual, even when with every word that came out of the Brazilian’s mouth his mood worsened.

He also called the moon-girl while waiting in line for his coffee, to know if Nina had called her or something, but she didn’t, and his concern increased.

His Economy lecture was the longest, and he almost fell asleep twice, but Ramiro got to keep him awake by giving him soft pushes with his knee every time his eyes closed. He would have thanked him, but it was all his fault in the first place, as everything would be fine if he hadn’t interrupted him and Nina at the lockers.

When he arrived home, Matteo was already there.

“Hey,” his best friend said, with a grin that was the complete opposite to the grimace that was his own face, and he knew his best friend enough to know what that meant.

“I guess you will be contemplating the moon tonight,” he replied, even if his mood wasn’t the best. The opportunity to make a pun can never be wasted. His best friend’s smile grew bigger, as he walked to the living room. “That’s exactly what I’m doing,” he said, taking his coat from the armchair. “We are going to watch a movie, and then to have dinner,” he told him, while putting his keys and wallet into his pockets.

Gastón nodded, with a soft smile.

He could be feeling like shit, but he was glad for his best friend, he deserved to be happy with his girlfriend more than anyone.

“Hmm, by the way,” Matteo said, after crossing the front door, peeking inside with half his body outside. “There’s something waiting for you in your bedroom,” he winked, and then left the place, leaving him staring at the closed door with a confused expression.

Did his mom send him cupcakes again? His progenitor was learning how to bake, and so lately she had been sending boxes with her creations so he had something sweet to eat while studying for his exams. And, as thankful as he was about her doing that for him, he had to admit that baking wasn’t one of her strongest abilities. The other day, for example, he had to eat half-cooked cookies just to make her happy.

Now he knows why Matteo ran away so fast.

Before entering to his room, he took out his phone from his pocket, looking at it, his messages still un-read, his voicemail still empty. He sighed, and opened the door, with his eyes still fixed on the screen, opening the chat with Nina, and writing a short ‘please, pick up my calls’, before sending it. The tone of an incoming message rang at the room, but it wasn’t from his phone, so he looked up, his heart beating so fast it felt like he was having a heart attack.

She was there, sitting on his bed, with her phone on her hands, and a shy smile dancing on her lips. And, for the first time in his whole life, he was completely speechless.

Nina stood up.

“Hello, Stranger,” she said, unsure. “I- I’m Felicity, we… we have talked with each other through the campus app,” she explained, and he instantly knew what she was doing, so a soft smile appeared on his own lips. He was too startled to reply, tho. “I thought you deserved to know who I was, so I came here to talk with you,” she continued. “I mean, you weren’t here when I arrived, but your flat mate told me that it was okay if I wanted to wait for you in your bedroom.”

Gastón let out a soft giggle, and she did the same.

“I will have to talk with him about security,” he said, when he found his own voice. “I mean, nothing personal, but you could be some serial killer.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I could be that,” she said, blushing when he got too close. “Or, maybe I have a master plan to kidnap you and never let you go,” her voice became a whisper when his fingertips softly brushed her cheek.

“How evil,” Gastón replied, lifting her chin, making her look up at his eyes. “But I would let you do it,” he added, with a soft smile, and for a while there it seemed like she had forgotten how to speak. Or breathe. He held her face in between his hands, and stared at her eyes with devotion, feeling like those hours without knowing about her haven’t actually happened.

After a while, she sighed.

“Gastón, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lied to you, or left last night at the party, I just needed some time to think, to clear my head… I had never-”

“Shh… it’s ok,” he interrupted her, getting closer. “I know you were scared.” Putting their foreheads together, he closed his eyes, and took a deep breath to fill his lungs with her scent, to keep that moment forever with him. She put her hands over his and closed her eyes as well. “but I need you to understand that nothing has made me happier than knowing that Felicity and Nina were the same person, that I didn’t fall in love with two girls, but with two facets of the same amazing girl. That I’m in love with you, only you… all of you.”

For a while, they stayed in silence, with only the sound of their breaths filling the room, but then Nina opened her eyes, and with a light touch she asked him to do the same.

“I love you too,” she whispered. “Since the very beginning.”

They smiled at each other, just for brief time, before he bent down those millimeters required so their lips could finally meet.

It was a soft kiss, as sweet and tender as possible, he was afraid of going too fast and scare her off, so he was taking his time, enjoying the sweet taste of her lips like he had all the time in the universe to do so. He did. But then, her hands dive in his hair, pulling him closer, asking for more, so he let every measure behind and deepened the kiss, feeling like a million supernovas exploding inside his chest, like he had just found everything he could have only dreamed about before. He knew, since that very second, that he was the luckiest guy on planet earth, and the blindest, for not being able to see before that the love of his life was right in front of his eyes all this time.

They were cuddling on his bed, her head resting on his chest, as he absently played with a lock of her hair. They were talking about everything and nothing at the same time, she told him about her crush on him when they were at school, and he told her about everything that came to his mind about those times, while stealing kisses, and keeping each other as close as possible.

He never wants to let her go.

But then, something in his room called her attention, and she fetched it from the library, having to get on top of him to achieve the task. He just smiled, knowing exactly what it was. “You actually framed it,” she said, showing him the poem, the one she sent him the night they met online.

“I told you I would,” he said, with a proud smile.

“Yes, but I thought… I thought you were joking,” she was sitting on his lap, looking down at him with the cutest surprised look, and he thought he just wanted to kiss her again.

“I would never joke about something like that,” he said, sitting up, putting his hands on her hips to keep her close. She might have only noticed their position, because then she became completely red, and bite her lip. “I was serious then, and I’m serious now: I love your writing, and I want to read more,” he added, brushing his nose against hers.

“More?” she asked, startled.

“Everything,” he corrected, and stole a peck, making her whole-body shiver. “I want to read everything you write, I declare myself your fan number one,” he gave her another soft peck, and she closed her eyes, taking one of her hands to his nape, holding the frame against her chest with the other.

“You will have to take that spot from Luna,” she told him, out of breath, and he snorted.

“The moon-girl? Easy pie,” he said. “I just need the astronaut to distract her, and that’s it, I win,” he giggled his eyebrows and she laughed. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

He took the frame from her hand, putting it back at the library, and then pulled her closer so their chests touched, and there was no millimeter in between them. “I love you, and I will always support you,” he told her, looking directly at her eyes, making her feel special. Loved. Her free hand caressed his cheek, softly, making him shiver. He never felt like this with anyone before, she had something that made every touch different, strongest, like he was Spider-man with his Spidey-senses activated. If that makes any sense.

“I love you too,” she replied, and then their lips met again.

And the rest of the world stopped existing.

#Soy Luna #Gastina #Soy Luna Fanfic #Gastina Fanfic #Gaston Perida #Gaston Battan #Nina Simonetti #SL Fanfic #StrangerFic #UniversityAU #written by me

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smolfangirl · 7 years

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Lost Then Found

Chapter 6: Love me or leave me

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5

So, this is it, the end. The final chapter of LTF. I spent a lof of time on it, making sure it is perfect and something I am incredibly proud of and in the way it somehow ended up being 6.3k words long. (Whoops.) I want to thank @sky-girls for being always there for me and for helping me more times than I could possibly remember. This chapter is for you, muffin! (Also I hope you will still talk to me after the ending)

“Solo espero no sea tarde para seguir al corazón.”

“Simón, hurry up, I need to talk to you!”

Luna banged against the door. Her knuckles were turning white, but she didn’t care. Open, open, open, please, I need you. She repeated it like a mantra, whispered those words to herself until the fire in her lungs slowly burned out. The mantra kept her from crying. From shattering and losing it. She had been too close to the edge for more than two hours now. Since Matteo left her alone on the rink, a million thoughts raced through her head. Open questions. Explanations for what had happened right there. Scenarios of a future she didn’t want. So many feelings as well. Too many. It was a mess, she was a mess. In no way could she bear this on her own any longer. Open, please.

Finally, her best friend showed up behind the door. He wore his favorite beanie on his hair and a grin on his lips: “Luna, hey! What a surprise!”

“Are you alone?” To her own surprise, her voice sounded much stronger than she felt. “Yeah”, Simón answered, “Pedro’s out with Delfi and Nico went to town. Hopefully to get a new haircut.” He got suspicious when Luna didn’t even raise an eyebrow at his joke. “Are you alright?”

She shook her head. Her feet lead her to the couch where she fell face down into the cushions. Simón watched her speechless. “I think I screwed up”, she bawled after a minute of silence.

Now he remembered. “Oh, yeah. That. Well, figuring from how loud you argued, I kinda assumed that.” Immediately, he caught all of her attention. “Wait, what? You mean you… you heard it?” A grin slipped on his face. He knew it shouldn’t amuse him, so he tried to hold it back: “I think the whole Jam&Roller heard it. I mean, you really gave him a lecture there. We were pretty surprised you could turn into a volcano.”

Luna groaned and pressed her face deeper into the pillow. “It’s not funny!” She didn’t feel like a volcano. If anything, she was both the lava and the people buried underneath. “Hey, I’m sorry. But seriously, what made you go off like that? Though I’m not saying he didn’t deserve it.”

“I don’t know”, Luna sighed. “I don’t know anything except that I need your help. Simón, please, I’m not joking, I wasn’t this confused about the whole Sol thing and it’s not right, I… I wish I could understand but I don’t know what to do next or even how to ever look at him again.” Patting her shoulder, her best friend cowered in front of her. “Okay, I will help you, but you should relax a bit first. Take a deep breath. Yes, and another one.”

It worked.

Well, until Matteo’s face appeared in front of her and reminded her of the hurt written all over his face. His lost smile. The missing spark in his eyes. His words. I did miss you. I still do. And I will. Her chest tightened all over again.

“Eh, what do you mean?”, Simón continued, “You don’t know how to look at him again? What did he do?” Luna lifted her head. Seeing the tears in her eyes, he gasped. “What did I miss? What did you do?” A small sob escaped her mouth. “I, I might have been wrong all the time and there’s a chance he didn’t deserve me yelling at him?”

“Wait, what?” He struggled to process this new information. After all, it was Matteo’s fault that Luna had been a shadow of herself over the last twelve months. He had noticed how she tried to cover up, to act as if everything was perfectly fine. Normal. But the light in her eyes undeniably used to shine brighter. Luna had every right to lash out at Balsano. So why did she regret it now? Why didn’t it relieve but hurt her more? He couldn’t imagine.

The shrilling sound of the bell interrupted them. First, Simón ignored it. After it rang for a second and a painful long third time he got up. Luna felt grateful for the time to think of an explanation. One that went beyond “He said he cared for me and I’m still mad but I also want to run into his arms”. She didn’t find one. But by the time she looked up again, she found Ámbar. Next to Simón, with his arm casually wrapped around her shoulder. She imagined Matteo holding her close like that. No, let it go. “Hi Lunita!”

“Hey, what are…”

“Why were you late today?”

It took Luna a second to recall Ámbar didn’t mean to be harsh. Anymore. “I was working on my biology assignment and somehow I had forgotten there was training today.” The blonde snorted. “Why am I not surprised this happened?” However, the smirk on her mouth gave her away. “Anyway, it’s not that important. What I’m more interested in, did you and Matteo at least talk when he picked you up? Or was that just screaming too?” Luna’s eyes widened, alarmed. It hadn’t been a joke. Everyone knew. She was so screwed.

Simón squeezed his girlfriend’s shoulder. “Come on, angel, lighten up. What’s this, an interrogation?” Ámbar rolled her eyes. “No, it’s not. But I just wanted to help and it’s unbelievable they apparently didn’t even take that chance when it would have been just perfect. It’s getting too pathetic to watch.” Another eye roll when Simón and Luna simultaneously gave her a confused look. “What are you talking about?”, Luna inquired.

“Lunita, please. Why else do you think it was Matteo who picked you up? I could have just called Tino and tell him to drive you. But no, instead I was trying to be helpful for once.” On a rational level, Luna understood Ámbar meant well. How could she know all hope was lost for Matteo and her? Still: “But why? Why would that help? In which way?”

“Luna’s right”, Simón argued. “And it’s not on us, if they wanted to talk, they would have already. And when Luna doesn’t want to, you shouldn’t put her into a situation like that.”

His girlfriend groaned. “Seriously, I don’t get it. You are both unhappy. Miserable, even. What’s the point? Do you think we don’t see it? Why do you both keep pretending otherwise? Even Tamara figured it out!” She sighed: “All I’m saying is, you should talk to him. Talk, not scream. Let him explain. He’s not a bad guy. But okay, in the end, you do you, I won’t interfere again. You two are too complicated anyway.”

“Can we please not talk about him? Or today in general?”, Luna stammered. She sat up, rubbing her neck. This wasn’t going the way she wanted to. Needed it to. She had come here to pour her heart out and get back on her feet, not to start another fight.

Technically, she still wanted to talk about Matteo, about the storm inside her. And if she should give him another chance. If he could be trusted with her heart. But Ámbar’s words hit every open wound and it hurt too much. Luna wasn’t ready to hear this truth yet, to believe it. So, she preferred to push it aside.

Before the silence settled in the room, Simón jumped in: “Well, then why don’t we forget that and watch a movie?” Luna nodded, while Ámbar agreed with her eyebrow still raised.

Soon, Simón and Ámbar snuggled on the couch while the opening scene began. Luna tried to not allow the jealousy creep into her veins. Her friends were happy, so she should be too, right? And if not, at least she should be able to focus on the movie.

Yet, her mind played a film of its own. Memories flooded her head. Some tasted bitter, like the one on the rink when he laughed at her. Maybe about her. Or when he switched teams again to avoid trouble with Ámbar.

Most of them felt like a bubble bath in happiness, however. His hugs. Every time he offered his help right when she needed it the most. Discovering the wings under her feet when he taught her a new step or lift. The butterflies in her stomach that woke up with his smile. Him, constantly making sure she was okay and happy.

Why did it had to end? They could have made it. That’s what she believed anyway until he exchanged her for the Italian sun and her sky missed the stars she used to see around him.

And now he suddenly talked about missing her, about wanting to give her the explanation she so desperately craved. She remembered Ámbar’s words. They were miserable, yes, or she definitely was. Matteo looked the part. Luna gave in and imagined what could happen if she got a reason. An apology, even. If there was a meaning behind her pain, what would change? Everything? Nothing?

These questions kept her mind busy. She left the apartment without knowing as much as the title of the film they had seen.

She needed to learn to move on.

The realization hit her late at night, after she crawled under her blanket and hugged her pillow tight. This crying and being mad and avoiding him had to come to an end. The searching and hoping for a way to turn things around too. She deserved closure, she deserved peace. If she got through the whole drama of being Sol Benson, then she could move on from a boy who made no sense. Right? And what did she had to lose by now anyway? How much worse could it get?

Maybe Ámbar had a point and letting Matteo explain was the right thing to do. Maybe she should give him that chance. Not for him. But for herself. Pushing her blanket away, Luna grabbed her phone. At last, she knew what to do.

Can we talk tomorrow? It’s important, she typed. She read through it, but decided to leave the details for the morning. Her fingers were only shaking slightly when she hit send.

Luna found him sitting in one of the chairs. Throughout the whole school day she had been unable to focus on the classes, fidgeting even more than usual and reliving the fight with Matteo. Hopefully, this would be over soon.

“Hey, thank you so much for taking the time!”

“Come on, you know I always have enough time for my best friend!”, Simón laughed. His eyes scanned her, which she noticed, of course. But she had nothing to hide anymore. Her smile was real, just like the determination she found behind the lump of nervousness in her throat.

“So, what’s this super important thing you need to talk about? Is it about the competition?”

“Well, no, actually it’s not. It’s about Matteo”, she began. Simón frowned. “So, I thought a lot about what Ámbar said yesterday. She knows him for so long, right? If she says I should talk to him, maybe it’s really time I do. I think I want to too.”

Her best friend shrugged, then chuckled. It sounded nervous, not quite convinced. “Then why don’t you just do it? The Luna I know can do everything she wants.” His smile turned softer and for a moment, Luna truly believed she could make it right this time.

Then she sighed. “I don’t know how to talk to him when he will avoid me even more than before.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Simón fidgeted with the menu card. Confused, she nodded. “I’ve been thinking about yesterday too, about what you told him. Luna, why didn’t you tell me how you felt? We’re best friends, you can always come talk to me if that’s what you need.”

“I’m sorry, Simón. It’s not that I didn’t want to, but, well, I couldn’t. I didn’t plan to say all of this, I didn’t even know that this was inside me. And at some point after he left, I just didn’t want you to worry and there was this whole Sol thing, and what could you have done anyway?”

There was still a frown on his face. “Look, I was just as surprised as you yesterday, but I’m glad I let it out. I had to. But what I really need now, from you, is your help to talk to him. Will you? Help me, I mean?”

Now he eased up. “Yeah. Everything that makes you happy, you know that.”

“Thank you!”

The next day, Luna felt more nervous than ever to go to the Jam&Roller. Her phone in her hands, she walked as fast as her feet carried her. (She felt it in her legs, how her muscles urged her to slow down and moaned because she ignored it) Two more streets, and her breath run short. Simón hadn’t texted her yet, and if he wasn’t texting her, it meant he was busy and talking to Matteo. Hopefully.

Only one more intersection and she’d know. But of course, the red light stopped her and while Luna caught her breath, she considered running over the street. This traffic light usually took ages to jump to green, she didn’t have that time. And there wasn’t any car around. Should she do it?

Luckily, she didn’t need to decide. Within seconds after the green light had mercy and signaled her to run, she stepped into the bar, her heart pounding loud and wild.

Simón wasn’t behind the counter, which looked promising to her as she didn’t see Matteo either. She dropped off her bag, and walked straight to the rink. Nothing but a small taste of doubt in her mouth now. Maybe they were at the lockers?

Again, no hint of the two. Only Pedro who greeted her cheerfully as usual. The worry reached her stomach and she felt unable to return Pedro’s smile. “Have you seen Simón? It’s super important”, she asked him, the words stumbling out of her mouth. “Well, fifteen minutes ago I saw him talking to Matteo by the stage. Have you checked the wardrobe?”

Fifteen minutes ago, they hadn’t planned it like this. Luna prayed she wasn’t too late. “No, I haven’t, thank you!”, she yelled over her shoulder.

Indeed, she found Simón sitting in the wardrobe, lost in thought, strumming his guitar. “Simón! Why are you here? Where’s Matteo?” Startled, her best friend looked up. “Luna, I didn’t expect you so soon!”

“What? The whole plan was about me being here and seriously, where is Matteo? Don’t tell me he already left, please!”

Simón put his guitar aside. By the expression in his eyes, he planned something and Luna wondered if she wanted to know.

“He did. I tried, you need to believe me, but he was so eager to leave, I couldn’t stop him.” She groaned. “However, don’t worry, it won’t happen again”, he added without making her feel better. “Of course it won’t, because he will keep running from me forever.”

“You give up too fast, Luna. He won’t be able to run from you. Well, not if I tell him I need him to switch shifts with Nico because of a totally made-up emergency. And the best part: he can’t say no since Tamara left me in charge while she’s away. So, give it two days and you’ll get your shot.” He leaned back with a smirk, looking pleased with himself. Luna took a sharp breath. Trying to get to talk to him today had already rubbed her the wrong way, but this? This was a whole new level, one she shouldn’t feel so comfortable stepping on.

“Do you think this is a good idea?”

“Totally, you’ll see, and who knows, in a week you won’t be thinking about him anymore.” The thought of forgetting Matteo failed to reassure her. But this wouldn’t stop her. Not this time, not when Simón had a point and gave her the one chance she needed to move on. Right?

In the end, it was her heart who betrayed her. Dancing in her chest, over these two days it started to whisper that Matteo missed her, for real, and that it wasn’t a dream but a fact. It fully dived into the memories, the craving and pining as if Luna had nothing to lose.

It reminded her of his birthday present as well. Specifically, of the part no one knew about. Not Simón, not Nina, not even her parents. Get it out, it whispered, you hid it long enough. Just take another look. And the memories weren’t alone: all the feelings she had very much tried to bury forever accompanied them.

Luna hated it. This wasn’t fair, at all. Being a teenager shouldn’t be this hard. Love neither.

Time didn’t pass. No matter how hard Luna kept track of it and stared at whatever clock was around, the two days stretched into an eternity. And eternity gave her a lot of possibilities to overthink. Was she ready for the truth and for moving on? Did she have to be ready? (She didn’t feel the part.)

Her friends weren’t any help either. Just mentioning Matteo’s name caused them to interrogate her until she felt like the main suspect in a major crime case until she considered hiding in the bathroom.

Then, she woke up to a text of Simón, “Today!”, and time passed way too quickly during classes. Before Luna settled on a final plan for this conversation, she found herself in front of the Jam&Roller. Okay, she told herself, reaching for the door handle, you can do this. Just wing it. It’ll be fine.

She discovered Simón behind the bar. “Luna, there you are!”, he grinned at her, “Are you ready? Matteo is on the rink, so you can go straight ahead.”

“Thank you”, Luna said and forced a smile, “I’m just gonna put my skates on first.” And something Matteo hopefully saw as a sign she didn’t want to hurt him. But there was no need to rub that in Simón’s face when he’d only be hurt that she kept this a secret from him too. “Then don’t stand around, go, go, go! Good luck!”

Indeed, Luna needed that luck.

Seeing Matteo was enough to cause her chest to tighten until she forgot how to breathe. The last time they’d seen each other popped up in her head like one of these ads on Youtube that you couldn’t skip. Though, if she was being honest with herself, he didn’t look as miserable anymore. Only an unfathomable smile was on his face, nothing that laid bare how he felt. Or maybe it was showing in the details, in things escaping her mind because she had forgotten how to read him.

The second he noticed her, his movements changed. The smile, no matter how real, faded. Matteo slowed down, then turned away from her to watch the other skaters more intensely than was believable. Sighing, she decided she needed more drastic measures to get his attention.

This situation called for solely one thing.

Slowly, Luna once skated around the rink. She waited for his gaze to get stuck on her. A second round, taking up speed. Now. She spun around, well aware she wouldn’t make it if she shifted her weight to her right foot.

The fall came quickly. Matteo however didn’t. He remained on his spot, staring and probably waiting for her to get up. She felt her cheeks heating up. Not that she had a real plan, but things obviously weren’t going well.

Nevertheless, she sent a smile in his direction. Visibly exhaling, he skated over. “Why did I know you’d show up today?” Her eyebrows twitched and she hesitated to answer. “What do you want?”, Matteo went on, “There’s no training for the competition, you know that.”

That’s it, she thought, there had to be a way to bring back the old Matteo, or at least a Matteo she knew how to talk to. One that reminded her of the person she used to be, too. “No comment because I fell? I believe that’s a first.” She got a snort instead of the smirk she aimed for. “Look, I have to work, so if you don’t mind…”

“No, wait!” Luna reached out her hand. “Please.” With every passing second, her heart beat faster. What if she came too late, if he believed every single word her anger had directed at him? If she never got to tell him that right now, she missed their old selves more than she wanted to stay mad. That she wanted to hug him, wanted him to call her chica delivery, to wink at her and convince her to dance with him.

Lastly, Matteo grabbed her hand. His radiated warmth and offered support bittersweet in its familiarity. She focused on that while he pulled her up. Looking in his eyes seemed impossible.

“You only mentioned the card”, he commented to her surprise. Following his gaze, her eyes fixed her laces. More specifically, the silver moon and the strawberry dangling from them next to each other. “What?”

“You never brought them up. Or had them on before. Why now?” At his stinging tone, her voice broke into nothing more than a whisper. “I wanted to talk to you.” Matteo nodded slowly, as if he weighed his every word. “I see”, he began when a girl interrupted them. “Sorry, but you’re the supervisor, right? Could you help me with something, please?”

Immediately, his mouth curled up for this girl, a regular. “Yeah, of course.” Over his shoulder he said to Luna: “You’ll excuse me for a minute.”

Undecided, she stayed on her place frozen like a statue. Did his words mean he’d come back? Or would he go back to ignoring her? Luna had no idea. Her whole world felt shaky and unsteady, all because she couldn’t tell whether he put on a mask for her or for the girl he was helping. How did he continue to be her fixpoint? Her rock.

She watched him. Right now, he explained how to keep the balance while skating on one foot. He made a good teacher, patiently showing and encouraging the girl until it worked. No cheekiness, just kind support, she saw that much from the distance. It shouldn’t surprise her that much, she had seen him like this before, only that it felt like a lifetime ago and it had always been aimed at her.

Now, the same friendliness didn’t last for her. “So, Luna, I have a question for you.”

Had she seriously hoped for anything else except his razor-sharp tone? “If you wanted to talk to me, what did your dear Simón had to do with it? Did you think I wouldn’t notice how he obviously tried to keep me from leaving, just around the time school finishes? Why else would he suddenly be nice to me and ask for my help with a song I couldn’t possibly care less about? And only two days after you yelled at me, possibly loud enough for everyone to hear it? I bet he still laughs about it and thinks I deserve it.”

Yeah, in no way would she tell him they all really knew about their fight. Rather, she went for: “This is not about Simón, Matteo. Please.”

“No, it’s not. But you know, if you wanted to talk to me again, you could have texted me. Ask me, not let beanie boy do all the work because it’s easier for you.” With every word out of his mouth, she shrunk in size. By all means, he was right. “Matteo, I’m sorry, I…”

“Don’t. Whatever it was you wanted to say, spit it out already. What do you want? What do you want to happen, what are you trying to achieve with”, he gestured to her skates and the ground, “All this?”

There wasn’t enough air in here to fill her lungs, especially not when the storm in his eyes took her breath away.

“I wanted a reason”, she stammered. “You said you cared but I still don’t understand why you simply disappeared from my life. Look, all I wanted was to move on and later remember this without having to wonder what happened.”

“Wanted?”, Matteo asked, an eyebrow raised before his expressions softened up slightly. Luna stared back, astounded at the power of a small word. “I… I mean… I still care about you. I tried not to. But I really, really do.” At this, suddenly his eyes lit up like a firework in the night sky. He coughed and looked away, trying to conceal it. Still, she recognized this trace of hope, because it spread in her too and gave her a fuzzy sensation in her guts.

“So, why did you never stay in touch?”

They sat on the bleachers while Matteo focused on the rink. Not that Luna would ever admit it, but she took the chance to study his face. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever laid her eyes on. Most likely forever. It struck her that whatever was about to come, she most likely didn’t expect it. And just maybe, she didn’t have to lose him. Maybe this wasn’t their end or the last time she could get lost in his perfection.

“This might take a while.”

Luna reached out for his arm, but held herself back before he noticed. She cleared her throat. “I have time.”

Matteo closed his eyes. Forgotten was the rink, his shift. All that mattered was Luna, to find the right words that kept his hopes for a second chance alive. “The day after we arrived in Italy, uh, my dad told me we probably wouldn’t come back for the school year. Well, I know I should have expected it, but I didn’t want to hear any of it. That’s when we had our first fight, over there I mean. I just refused to give up the hope to see you again, you know?”

His voice trembled, the words blurred and it was hard to understand everything. “I never wanted our kiss to be the end of something. So, I didn’t want him to mention this until their bosses made their final decision. And then… then they told me we’d stay. That I would finish school there, and likely study too, or go to Oxford. Those were my options. It was right after the first Open, you know, the one Tamara streamed. I, I missed you. I missed you so much. I wanted to see you, hear your voice but there you didn’t perform while my parents basically told me I’d never get to go back and should let this fantasy go.”

Luna remembered the Open, how she regretted not performing when she learned about the one person who had streamed it from Italy. It truly had been him, of course, and of course he didn’t get to see the one time she sang for him.

“My first impulse was to call you. I had to tell you, but no matter how long I sat in front of my phone and opened your contact, I couldn’t do it. I knew it would be the right thing to do and yet, I… my head always found a reason not to do it. It was stupid, I realized that now, the most stupid thing I’ve ever done.”

Matteo paused. Let out a sigh. So much weight seemed to escape his body with it, Luna wondered how he had managed to walk upright before. “And then?”, she asked in a husky voice. “Did you just… decide that not talking to me at all was better? But then why did you send me something for my birthday then? That makes no sense to me. Wait, look, I want to get it, but right now, I feel there are more question marks in my head than before.”

Something about her words shattered him back into pieces. She saw it without understanding why tears sparkled in his eyes or why his whole body was made up of misery.

“I didn’t decide anything. My dad did. He’s, eh, let’s say, quite controlling. He told me I was acting out of my mind, and I was, of course I was. I felt so lost without you, but when he learned about you, he tried to reign me back in. Like I was a dog who didn’t listen and just needed some more training to behave.” A snort, one heartbeat of silence. Another one. “Actually, it’s not like I didn’t expect it. Although usually he was distant, more of a teacher than a father. But this time, he suddenly cared. Or at least compared to like all my life. And… since I honestly believed I’d never see you again but instead could have a decent relationship with my parents, finally, I…”, another break. “This sounds even shittier when I say it out loud.”

His fingers moved restlessly around, through his hair, along the seam of his shirt, rubbing his neck. Never stopping. “I’m sorry, Luna, I made so many mistakes, you have every right to be mad…”, she stopped him. “I want this to be over.”

He stared at her with eyes wide opened. Even though silence settled between them, Luna swore she heard his heart break.

“No, no, not like that!”, she hurried to add. Before her brain stopped her, her hand searched for his. Equally surprised as she was, Matteo held in a breath. Confusion was written all over his face. Luna tried to say something, anything, however touching him burned out every single thought in her head.

It took her some moments to find her voice. “What I’m trying to say is, I want us to be able to talk normally again. Like before. I don’t care if what you have to tell me sounds shitty. I said I wanted to understand, and I won’t run away. I promise. And I don’t want to stay mad at you. Anymore.”

“What?”

In another situation, she would have laughed at his shocked face. Now, she let her thumb draw lazy circles on his skin. “I’m done being mad at you”, she repeated. A smile as bright as a thousand stars broke free on his lips. It blinded her, consumed everything else around them like a black hole. She wanted to see this smile every day of her life.

“You know, you’re always in my head, everywhere I am”, he confessed, more radiant than the sun itself. “Everything that you said before sounded as if my only goal during the last year was to make you suffer and I know it’s hard to believe it but I never wanted to hurt you. I believed I was doing what was best for you, to allow you to move on. It took me weeks to buy these pendants. Every time I passed this shop window, I thought about getting them for you. But I also hoped you had forgotten me by then, because it meant you didn’t suffer like me. That’s why I always walked past them in the end.”

Focusing on his words got harder when he pulled his hand away. She hated how she ached to feel more of him, whether by holding his hand or being in his arms and doing all the things she definitely needed to stop thinking about. “And then my parents left town for a few days and I found myself in front of the shop again. I figured it was now or never, that you could still get them in time without my dad ever knowing I lied when I told him I had forgotten you completely. So, I bought them. I let them change them so you could wear them on your laces and went straight to the post office, wrote the card there and sent it off. But the next day, I already realized it was contradicting and wrong and I knew I’d never have the courage to ask Gastón how you reacted.”

“He couldn’t have answered that question anyway. I never told anyone about them”, Luna stated. “In fact, until yesterday, I kept them in my drawer right at the back so I didn’t have to see them.”

“Why?”, he inquired, biting his tongue. She shifted on her seat, unconsciously ending up closer to him. Her fingers fidgeted with her bracelets in order to keep her from reaching out to find his hand. “It hurt too much, thinking about you. And I didn’t want everyone else to worry about me again, especially when they just started to believe I was better.”

Matteo shook his head. “Luna, you can’t always think of everyone else first. Sometimes, what you want and need is more important.”

“Would you say the same thing if I told you you weren’t what I wanted?” His gaze laid down on her, firm and calm. It brought back the feeling she could read his every thought and emotion in his eyes. Hope spread out in her, racing through every cell and making her dizzy. “I would say your happiness is the most important thing. And I know I got in the way of it too often already, so… one word from you and I’ll leave you alone.”

That was it, that was the last strike it took to tear down the wall around her heart. Immediately, this hope forged a fire that turned every last bit of anger and resentment into ashes. “And let’s say, I wouldn’t want you to go. Why should I trust you now? How do I know you’re not leaving again because your dad makes you?” Matteo took her hand, studying their intertwined fingers before he answered. “After the last training, I talked to my parents. I figured I lost you for good, but I also realized they needed to know the truth. So, I told them I still only wanted to be with you and that it was wrong to pretend otherwise and that I didn’t care what they say.”

“How did that go?”, she blurted out. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t imagine talking to her parents like that. Or them to act like Matteo’s parents, for that matter. “Well, my dad got mad. Very mad, actually. It was nothing compared to when I decided to study physics and astronomy instead of sticking to his plans for me.” With the hand he wasn’t holding on to, she gently patted his arm.

“Why are you looking at me like that, chica delivery?”

Was it possible to have a heart attack because of a nickname?

“Are you and your dad okay now?” Matteo shrugged. “He’ll get over it at some point. But really, in the end, I don’t care anymore if they accept or even like my choice. That’s not what matters.” He smiled at her, all soft and warm and full of love. The chica delivery from a minute ago couldn’t hold up against it. If she hadn’t been sitting, who knew where her shaking knees would have taken her. “I love you, Luna. And I will stay.”

Maybe she should think this through. Tell him she needed some time to process everything, to decide on what was best for her.

But truth be told, her heart already chose him without a doubt. She knew living without him was possible, she had managed to get by like this. However, talking to him demonstrated that it wasn’t what she aimed for, a life without his smiles. His touch, his support. His love.

“Luna?”, Matteo pulled her back to reality, where she had left him waiting for an answer, “Will you give me a second chance?” She looked up. Hope glimmered in his eyes, along with an undeniable fear. Never had he been this vulnerable around her, perhaps around anyone.

“I mean I haven’t completely forgiven you”, she admitted. In response, his hand loosened its grip on hers. “I haven’t because it will take some time, but… I want to try this. Us. I, I like you very much too.”

Time stopped.

Suddenly, he embraced her waist and she sat right next to him, wrapped up in his arms. The world started spinning, faster than ever before. Luna closed her eyes. Like adding the last puzzle piece, her life felt complete again.

His lips found her forehead, murmuring “Thank you” before he gently pressed them on her skin. It took all her self-control to not kiss him right here, right now in front of the other skaters.

Somehow, they ended up in the wardrobe. The reason escaped her mind before the door closed behind them. Did he needed to get something out of here? All Luna remembered was walking hand in hand with him and that the smile on her face grew wider with every minute.

“Wait, was there any reason we’re here now?”, she asked. Matteo grinned, the signature chico fresa look, and turned around so he faced her. One hand reached out for her hair, brushed it back, then rested on her cheek. His other hand supported her waist, pulled her closer. Not close enough. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Is it too early to ask if I can kiss you?”

“I don’t know, chico fresa, is it?”

It wasn’t. Of course. How could it be too early when all Luna had done for a year was to dream of these lips, this boy and being with him?

Matteo kissed her. Or she kissed him. It didn’t matter. Her mind turned quiet, but she heard her heart sing, even shouting in her chest. She had forgotten kissing Matteo meant a hurricane in her veins, meant being burned alive but enjoying every second of it. His thumb caressed her cheek and it drove her crazy, how he sent one wave of electricity after another through her body.

When they broke apart, Luna didn’t need to open her eyes to see him beaming with happiness. His voice sounded warm and just rough enough to make her knees tremble: “I think now I’m really home again.”

Thank you.

#soy luna #lutteo #my sl fanfiction #lost then found #love me or leave me #okay muffin first of all i left so many clues about the ending #like just look at the title of the fic that should have been enough #(btw the wing it part was ofc a reference)#and i loved teasing you until the very end but as if i could let my babies end up hurt and not together please #also a fic involving simón without a simbeanie burn is just not good you feel me #now here we come publishing break i was awaiting you :d #me out

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