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jiilys · 7 years

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im already there (by habit)

A/N: happy birthday my love @alrightpotter. ellie i love u more than u love ham.

Lily blasts music in her room and lies on her bed, avoiding her maths homework and thinking about him and what to get her mother for Christmas. Primarily him.

“What you doing today?” she’s called him. She meant to be cooler about it but couldn’t help herself.

“Whatever you’re about to suggest.”

“God, I’m hanging up, that was unbelievably lame.”

“You must be the only person in the world still saying ‘lame’”

“’lame’ is trendy.”

“You know what’s not trendy? Saying the word trendy.”

“I’m hanging up” she lies. “I have no idea why I called you.”

“I’m halfway to your house, I expect gas money.”

“I’m not giving you fucking-” she starts, and he hangs up.

Here is the thing: she absolutely does not like him.

(Here is the other thing: she is absolutely lying.)

She goes to his party, despite telling him she wouldn’t, and puts lipstick on. She rubs it off in the car. There is no universe where he should think she tries for him.

James struts over like a dick and hands her a beer. “You’re crashing.”

“Actually I was invited.”

“And then disinvited.”

“You can’t disinvite someone from a party just because their favourite Spice Girl wasn’t Posh.”

“Sure I can” he shrugged, and then smirked, “’knew you’d come anyway.”

“It’s because of the booze.”

“It’s actually because you wanted to see me.”

“We saw each other in chemistry.” She says, even though he wasn’t in chemistry.

“I wasn’t in chemistry.”

“Really? Damn. I didn’t notice.” He smiles, rolling his eyes. She grins into the lip of her beer.

“Lupin said you asked where I was.” Fucking Remus. Traitor.

“Merely hoping you were at the bottom of River Hayes somewhere.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “River Hayes? Rather specific location.”

“That’s where I’d dump a body.”

“Ah.” He takes another swig of his beer, “See I’d go for Sirius’ backyard.”

She dreams about him again.

They’re twelve, standing on a tennis court and holding racquets. It’s an argument. Sunburn blistering on the back of her neck and shoes to small because they were Petunia’s, and she’d forgotten about this. How she used to hate him for real.

“-fucking stole my fucking bike you shit” she was yelling, and he was smirking, throwing a ball in the air and catching it calmly, over and over, like she wasn’t screaming. She throws her racquet at him. It hits James on the nose.

She wakes up when she sees the blood

She used to hate him, until- well, she never really figured that bit out. They just didn’t like each other until suddenly she was in his car on Friday nights, driving around and demanding he pull over so she could get out, and him doing it, and then being parked for a while talking about school or arguing about the merits of the post and then suddenly they’re driving again, and Lily is threatening to climb out the window because he’s just said he uses Lynx body spray.

There was no specific point that she can remember that made them this. It was just them at thirteen, standing in the principal’s office because she’d thrown an apple at his head and given him a concussion, and then it was them again- only different. In the queue at Burger King, bickering about how he said he didn’t want anything when they both knew he would just eat all her fries.

They’re in his car again. She ends up in his car a lot more than is probably wise. Marlene is waiting for her in Bio. Going to Bio is probably wise.

“Piss off. I can absolutely touch every lamppost on this street faster than you.” He says.

“Please.” She scoffs, but he’s already running, the shit. She really should be in Bio right now only she isn’t, instead she’s streaking down Church Street and swearing at him, thwacking lampposts.

She leaves the restaurant right after it happens, dripping in wine and not crying but wanting to very badly. Petunia does not call after her. Somehow this makes everything worse.

She’s dialling his number before she’s consciously aware of deciding to do so. He answers on the third ring. “Listen Evans using me to do the chem homework is ethically wrong-“

“James.” She says, except her voice sounds terrible, gasping and raspy and wrong. She feels boneless. He doesn’t hear her.

“-not going to let you use me for my brain, even if it is brilliant, as we’ve alrea-“

“James please come get me.” She tries again, and oh god, she has started crying. How horrifically fucking embarrassing. Her head hurts. When she was four years old she used to practise writing Petunia’s name, the curve of the ‘a’, the cross on the ‘t’. How important it had seemed then, to never get it wrong.

“You alright?” he asks, sharply. She can hear his jangling keys in the background. The sound of an opening door. She knew he would come. She knew he would come for her if she asked.

“Lupin, wanna flat with me at uni?.” Sirius asks in English.

“Absolutely not.” Remus says.

Sirius swung around to Lily, “Evans, wanna flat with me at un-“

Lily is too busy watching James’ mouth fall open to respond. “Sirius I’m your best mate-“

“Would you hold on Prongs? Evans hasn’t given me her answer yet.”

Dreams, again, of him. They’re in his car, eating chips and waiting for a pedestrian to go over the cross walk when she turns to him and abruptly confesses, “I like you.”

He whips his head around to look at her, and suddenly they’re not in his car at all, but standing in the back of the hall where they had their school ball a year ago, leaning against the wall, elbows touching. He stares at her.

How dare you look at me like that, she thinks, how am I supposed to kiss you in front of all these people? How am I supposed to not?

It’s Mary’s birthday and Lily hates the fucking beer here. She hates all beer, actually. Tastes like ass. Sirius is in the corner sculling wine in a misguided attempt to impress Ellie Cook, who is pretending to not see him.

“You look lonely.” James says, meanly, slouching against the wall. He’s been in a shit mood since Avery and his mates tried to crash an hour ago.

“You’d know what that looks like.” Lily says.

He says nothing, sips his drink and stares out at the party. “I fucking-“ he starts, then stops. He seems like he wants to tell her something but cannot get the words out. “I hate everybody here.”

“Sirius is over there.” She points out, because he is, and because James is holding his beer so tightly his knuckles have started bleeding again. Something had happened outside with Avery while she was holding Marlene’s hair over the loo, by the time she’d gotten out there Ellie Cook was already dragging Sirius back and James was reeling, blood on his hands, lip swelling, roaring something terrible.

“Except Sirius, obviously.” He retorts sharply. “Sirius and you.”

She feels lightheaded. He pushes off the wall to get another drink.

She goes to chemistry and he isn’t there, and she doesn’t have the energy to pretend like this does not bother her.

Lily Evans to Shit Face: where are u

Shit Face: burning in hell

Lily Evans: wheres my invite

Shit Face: if it makes u feel any better i wish like fuck you were here

Shit Face: minnies lecturing us on how they wont ‘tolerate taking every whiteboard marker in the school and putting them in the girls loos’ at uni

Lily Evans: higher education rlly has gone to the dogs

Shit Face: my thoughts exactly

She walks into her room and he’s lying flat on her floor.

“Fucking!-“ she jumps back, heart racing.

“It’s only me.” He says, ridiculously, and she stares at him.

“How did you get in here?”

“Window. I’ve brought you this,” He holds a Twix in the air and she puts her bag down, “as an apology for breaking and entering.”

“I should think doing time would be apology enough.”

He sits up on his elbows. “So you don’t want the Twix then?”

In this dream she’s leaning against the bike sheds out the back of the school with him next to her. They are not touching. In front of them her twelve-year-old self is shoving twelve-year-old him into the concrete and calling him an arse.

“You could’ve concussed me.” Eighteen-year-old James points out.

“I was hoping to.” She admits, as twelve-year-old James gives her former self the finger. Eighteen-year-old Lily meanwhile, is stuck with an inexplicable urge to hold his hand.

Petunia does not come to graduation. Sirius hugs McGonagall when he gets his diploma and she hugs him back while James wolf whistles. Later, after photographs and food and her mother crying she calls him.

“Today was a good day.” She says without saying hello.

“It was.” he agrees. Her brain feels impossibly far away from her head. The night presses around her windows like cupped hands and she stretches out her own fingers, the knuckles she was born with- bigger now- stark in the lamplight. “It’s all going to be different.”

“Not all.” he says, and she feels almost drunk. Please God be talking about us, she thinks, do not let this ever be any different. Let me have one constant. Let it be us.

“I hope you know that just because we’re going to the same uni it doesn’t mean I’m not going to ask you for gas money when you want to go joy riding.” He tells her after a minute. Her heart grows through her ribs like a weed, hooking through every bone. How good he is, how right.

“I would hardly call any ride with you joyful.” She says.

University is lonelier than she’d thought it would be. Marlene in Australia and Mary in Nottingham and her mother back in Liverpool. It drizzles in London, rain like an afterthought, and she finds herself looking at old photographs at lot more than is healthy.

“I can’t stand this.” James says over coffee, “I’m going to drop out.”

“It’s only been a month. You’ve barely dropped in.” Lily takes a bite of his muffin and refuses to acknowledge the look he’s giving her for it.

“Thief.” He accuses, swiping it back. “This cost me six pounds.”

“That’s practically extortion. You should call the council.” She says, and he smiles. While he’s distracted she takes the muffin back.

Another dream, late night, heart racing. When she wakes up she can only remember bits. The kitchen countertop with paper all over it, her washing dishes, him drying. Outside in the garden, the sun on her neck, him kissing her forehead, skin warm all over. Forcibly changing the radio station while he drives, him laughing that she has no right, grabbing his hand over the gear shift, him saying something about being in a Nicholas Sparks movie, her turning up the volume.

It was sun, and laughing, and a house. It was not love, she would not let it be. But it was close. Right to the bone.

“What happened?” she says in rush, surging forward, heart banging something terrible. James does not look at her. His eye is purpling, soon to be swollen shut, and there is a cut on his cheekbone. She cannot calm down.

“He was defending my honour.” Sirius cuts in, looking rather horrific himself. Remus purses his lips. Peter has another crisp. James still won’t look at her.

She drives him back to the dorms because his hand is broken and he can’t grip the wheel. It was Sirius fault, as always, because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut and there was no way to stop them all going ridiculously to bat for each other every time, so what was there to say. In all my worst nightmares you get hurt and I am not there to get you, does not seem like enough.

Standing at his door she reaches up, brushing the hair out of his face for a minute. It’s like something out of a movie, only in a movie you wouldn’t be able to see the stiches in his eyebrow and they wouldn’t have sat in silence the whole way here.

“Remember when you hated me?” he tries to joke, half smiling.

“No.” she says, truthfully. Who can remember that long ago. Who can remember a time before they were this, where he fought for his friends and she drove him home.

They’re in his dorm, standing over his illegal toaster that has fried the plug, and she says “you’re a fucking moron” and he kisses her without warning.

And for a minute she cannot think at all, because this is James, and he is kissing her, and she is kissing him back, and it is good. Then all at once it is not, because this is James and he is kissing her and she is kissing him back.

She pushes him hard in the chest and he stumbles back. “What the fuck?” she accuses, and he is staring at her, wide eyed, perilously close to the fraying toaster wire.

He mouths wordlessly, and she feels violently sick. The room is rife with silence, and he continues to say nothing, and she wants the last two minutes back. She wants the time back within her instead of here, out, where he can look at her like that. Where she can leave and have him not call her name.

She stays wake all night, unable to sleep, lying on her bed in the dark. Ironically enough, the only person she wants to talk to about her feelings for James is James. You’re over thinking it, he would say, eating more of his fair share of the food they’d paid for together, it’s not as bad as all that. Relax.

How to tell him, this fake James she has conjured in place of the real one, how scared she is of this. Getting the wind knocked out of her. How awful love is. Needing someone like that. Wanting something that badly. If it went wrong she would have no James at all.

She dreams about him again.

Except, not really, because it’s actually just her sitting at a dining table. But isn’t every dream, really, about him? Haven’t they always been? Her mind is her own dirty secret, because she can think of him as much as she wants and no one will ever know

“What if we’re only good like this?” she asks into the silence, voice cracking. There it is. The terrible truth. The worst secret. What if the only way they work is when they’re trapped in limbo, pretending to hate each other.

She wakes up.

Two days later she calls Marlene. She answers on the second ring. “I heard. You’re a fucking idiot.”

She sounds like being late to bio, and wearing pyjamas under their uniform skirts, and eating chocolate in their frees. “It’s all gone to shit.” Lily says, missing her like hell.

“You’re acting like a tit. Go apologise.”

“I don’t-“ she starts, and feels like a fucking child. She is so tired of being afraid. “How?” she asks, exhausted.

Marlene is indignant. “What do you mean ‘how’? I don’t fucking know, do I? It’s James. He’s yours. Do whatever you need to.”

She knocks at his dorm only to have Sirius open the door a crack and stare at her for a minute. “Evans is here.” He says without looking away from her. A beat, and then the door abruptly opens wide to reveal James. Sirius backs to the side, looking between them, and Lily can hardly believe how uncomfortable the whole thing is.

“I was- I’ve been an idiot.” Her tongue feels entirely too big for her mouth. “For some reason I was entirely terrified to love you.” His eyes widen on the word ‘love’, and she forces herself on, “but it’s too late for that anyway.”

She stops herself from rambling just to fill the silence, because admittedly this could all go terribly but it is hard to feel that way when he is looking at her like that. He still isn’t saying anything. They are never this quiet. Maybe she wasn’t clear.

“Just to clarify- I do love you.” She says, and then immediately wants to be eaten by the carpet.

“I sort of got that from the first bit.” He says, stilted. Good God, this is awkward, she cannot believe Sirius is here for this. And then- “Now that we’re officially in love I guess I can’t ask you for gas money anymore.”

She smiles. “Well I’d hope so.”

“Tough shit. You still owe me twenty pounds from two weeks ago.” He tells her, leaning against the still open door.

“I am never in my life going to give you that twenty pounds.” She says, truthfully, and he grins. How ridiculous she has been, thinking that this would change anything. This is how she loves him, in the doorway of his dorm and in every dream she has ever had and in the way that he knows exactly what to say to make her laugh.

#I HAVE LOOKED AT THIS TO LONG AND I HATE IT NOW BUT ELLIE. GOD. I LOVE YOU MORE THAN ANYTHING.#jily #james potter #lily evans #sirius black #alrightpotter #(((((ellie cook is u btw i wasnt sure if u wanted me to use ur real last name so i used cook inctead I CANT WAIT TO SEE WHAT U WROTE TODAY)#carolineswritingtag #title from that annie eve song we love but not as much as we lOVE EACH OTHER BC WE ARE GAY #forgive me for the ham bit also i tried to make this good but i cant look at it anymore im going to lie down #anyone i love you more than anything and sirius needs to fuck u asap how rude of him 2 die can u believe #ellie

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undeadpsycho13 · 7 years

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a cup of coffee to warm my icy heart

AHHHHHH GUYS LOOK IM SO SO SO SORRRRRRYYYYYY I SWEAR I HAD THIS FINISHED LAST FRIDAY I JUST FORGOT IM SORRRRYYYYY

i know this chapter is one week overdue, and i hope u guys can forgive me. i swear i had it done ages ago, just forgot to post it. also, its more than twice the length of the first chapter, if that makes up for anything.

thank you to @puzzle-of-life-reason-for-death for the reminder, this chapter is for you!! :D

btw, some chinese swear words are involved, and the translations are at the bottom. if u dont like them, rlly sorry, i just thought it might be fun, cause you know, both baits and an speak chinese canon, and so do i, so why not?

tell me if u dont like it, i wont include them in the next chapter

otherwise, enjoy~~ ^_~

CHAPTER 2: JUST A TINY PART OF ME (FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU)

The second time was not so much of an accident, but oh well, not-accidents happen all the time, don’t they?

The annoying door ringing speaker thing once again announced Baitsakhan’s appearance at Endgame. A very pissed Baitsakhan. A very pissed Baitsakhan who had not had coffee in the last three days and was currently dying of lack of caffeine in his bloodstream. Red Bull was a poor substitute; he needed freaking coffee. The darker, the better. The scene from last week flashed back in his face, and Baitsakhan cringed a little on the inside. He was not willing to make a fool of himself again.

He had surprised both his sister and An by staying away from coffee for four days, and then couldn’t help but get some coffee from The Starbucks. At least he had figured out the barista’s name. Hilal Ibn Isa Al-Salt. He was awful proud of his memory; who on earth had long-ass names like that? For once, he was appreciative of his unique, surname-less name.

But the Al-Salt guy’s infuriating niceness had gotten the better of him, and he had once again scared Baitsakhan away with a honey-bee-pesticide-banning petition. Who cares whether bees died? Screw them.

The absence of a sufficient amount of caffeine, however, was not his only problem. The Phone Guy (as baitsakhan had deemed him) had texted him back, albeit the dire-sounding warning, with a outrageous reply of, omg so sry got the wrong # D: rlly rlly sry :(. And then, of all the emojis he could have typed, he chose the freaking <3.

Needless to say, Baitsakhan was pissed. No one, no one the whole damn world, was allowed to send him a heart emoji (save Sarangerel and An’s incredibly sweet girlfriend Chiyoko, but that as different), and yet this complete stranger had taken it upon himself (or herself, he added as an afterthought) to send him one. This was an outrage. He would not dignify this text with an answer, he thought to himself.

So, naturally, he just had to go to that nice coffee shop to calm himself down. Just had to. And it had nothing to do with wanting to the hot barista. Absolutely nothing.

Seating himself at the table closest to the window, he took out his phone, absent-mindedly scrolling through his playlist.

An indefinite amount of time passes.

And then, out of the blue, a hand suddenly tapped him shoulder, and, startled, he whipped around, teeth bared, hands out in front of him in an offensive position, ready to gouge the offenders eyeballs out ––

The cute barista (Maccabee, his mind supplied) is, apparently, said offender.

Great, there’s another person who thinks he’s a psychopathic weirdo (not that he isn’t, but still).

But instead of freaking out at his overreaction, the guy laughs. Who even does that after a near-death experience? (Okay, maybe he’s exaggerating, but there’s no denying this guy was weird.)

“Chill dude, just here to take your order.”

Met with Baitsakhan’s blank look, the guy raises a perfectly arched eyebrow.

“Look, I love having you here, but if you don’t order something, like, right now, I’m going to have to kick you out, ’cause I just got this job and I really don’t want to lose it. You know, you’ve been sitting here for like half an hour doing nothing.”

Holy hell, he’s been wasting thirty minutes doing nothing?! Scrambling up (in a very dignified way, of course), he says, in a voice he hopes is impassive,

“Sure, I’ll have an espresso or something, like that thing you made last time. If you don’t remember, I’ll just have the thing with the most caffeine.”

Maccabee (again, this is all his brain’s doing, there is no way Baitsakhan would consciously remember people’s names, even super hot guys) laughs at that, shaking his head.

“Of course I remember, who would be able to forget the order of the cutest guy we’ve had here since I started working?”

The blond is nice to enough not show any visible reaction to the way Baitsakhan’s face burns a deep red color at his comment, and instead smiles a bit lopsidedly and turns to go. Suddenly he pauses, turns back to face the noirette, and before Baitsakhan can do anything the older teen quickly winks, so fast it was almost missed, and continues on towards the counter.

For the next five minutes, until Maccabee comes back with his drink, Baitsakhan just sits there, eyes wide, mouth gaping like a fish, shell-shocked. Even then all he can do is close his mouth and nod his head politely.

A buzz from his phone catches his attention, finally rousing him from his stupor. For a moment, he thinks that it’s the Phone Guy again, but when he see’s "Asian Hacker Lovebird”, he smiles to himself and swipes the screen sideways to reply. Though he would never admit it, An crashing into his life nine years ago really made his life better a thousand-fold. He remembered first arriving in North America, a bitter, parent-less seven year-old, small for his age but savage and aggressive, despite the language barrier. Oh, he learned English in his due time, but back then, really all he could say were a few basic swear words that immediately earned him half a dozen enemies. The one person he gravitated towards was a kid in the year above him, a Chinese boy who was all glares and rule-breaking and rebellious behaviour. Looking at his slim frame and lanky form, people would be led to falsely believe that An was all bark and no bite.

They couldn’t be more wrong.

Professional in at least ten different types of martial arts and an expert at (illegal) poisons and (illegal) hacking, An was definitely a formidable opponent. Baitsakhan’s type of guy. They were the perfect pair, both cold and haughty at school and in public. No one needed to know they played video games together well into the night and had weird movie marathons on a regular basis and smiled until their face’s hurt and laughed until they couldn’t breathe.

He was a good friend, cynical, with a dry sense of humor.

Right now, however, not so much.

asian hacker lovebird: where r u????

asian hacker lovebird: baits

asian hacker lovebird: answer me child

asian hacker lovebird: ANSWER ME CHILD

im-not-smol: Piss off.

asian hacker lovebird: THE CHILD IS HERE

im-not-smol: Don’t call me a child.

asian hacker lovebird: i repeat where r u

im-not-smol: A cafe.

asian hacker lovebird: specify

im-not-smol: Endgame Cafe.

asian hacker lovebird: U MEAN!!!

asian hacker lovebird: LIKE DA 1 W/ DA HOT BARISTA U RANT ABT 24/7??!!!!

asian hacker lovebird: OMG STAY RIGHT THERE DONT MOVE IMMA JOIN U

im-not-smol: Don’t you dare.

im-not-smol: 傻逼

asian hacker lovebird: oh no u did NOT just call me that

asian hacker lovebird: now i need 2 come 2 beat u up

asian hacker lovebird: it is a MUST

asian hacker lovebird: see ya in 2 min

im-not-smol: 王八蛋

asian hacker lovebird: SHUT UP JUST SHUT UP IMMA COME OVER RN 2 BEAT UP UR STUPID ASS

im-not-smol: You can try. ;)

asian hacker lovebird: challenge accepted ur goin DOWN boi

im-not-smol: We’ll see about that.

asian hacker lovebird: ur “impecable grammar” rlly pisses me off

asian hacker lovebird: *imppecable

asian hacker lovebird: ugh

asian hacker lovebird: smthn watevr i kant spel

im-not-smol: It’s not my fault you turned autocorrect off.

asian hacker lovebird: when will u eva learn 2 txt like a normal person???

asian hacker lovebird: 好落后

asian hacker lovebird: just sayin

im-not-smol: Shut up.

asian hacker lovebird: look up

Baitsakhan raised his head, only to be met with the sight of a very distorted face right next to his head. And of course he didn’t scream Jesus Christ and shriek like a little girl, what are you talking about?

The weird twisted face outside morphed into a wicked grin and the doorbell rang once again as another customer entered, tears of mirth still apparent in his eyes. This new comer looked quite out of the ordinary, tall and dressed in nothing but black and silver, a face that was all harsh angles and sharp corners and pale skin. A contrasting red teardrop tattoo stood out, leaking out of his right eye, and his strange hair style earned him quite a few looks from the other customers.

“You’re so stupid.”

“Shut up, you will speak of this to no one, understand?”

Most people would quake with fear at the aggressive tone, but An just rolls his eyes,

“Normal people don’t speak like ancient three-hundred year-old vampires, Baits.”

He drops down on the chair opposing Baitsakhan’s, leaning back and crossing his legs, stretching them out in front of him, a picture of complete ease.

“So, where’s the hot shot?” An says in a mock-whisper tone. Baitsakhan glares at him before subtly motioning towards the counter, where Maccabee is leaning against it, his phone one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. For a moment, An just stares, a small smirk on his face (not that the smirk ever disappears), whistling appreciatively. And then, out of the blue, he shouts, so loud that he attracts probably the attention of everyone else in the mile radius,

“Hey there, aren’t employees not supposed to serve themselves?”

Startled, Maccabee looks up. He sees An’s triumphant expression and Baitsakhan’s kill-me-now-please-just-shoot-me-and-save-me-from-the-torture one, and kind of gathers what happened. A lazy smile slips onto his face. He walks over, leisurely, still holding the half-finished drink.

“You’re right. But… ” He pauses for effect, and in that short amount of time An actually gets around to rolling his eyes again. The boy really gets a lot of practice.

“I’m off duty. Ais over there took over for me.”

He gestures at a red-headed girl who has somehow managed to escape their notice until then. For a moment, a strange look flits across Baitsakhan’s face, but as quickly as it got materialises, it disappears.

An shrugs.

“Oh. Good for you.” He says awkwardly.

There’s an uncomfortable silence, like the type when someone ought to say something but nobody does, before Baitsakhan finally interjects,

“Thanks for the coffee, but I think my friend and I should get going.” Here he pointedly glares at An, who stares innocently at the ceiling.

“How much is it again?”

Maccabee shrugs,

“Don’t worry about it, as long as you come again, it’s on the house.”

He winks suggestively.

Baitsakhan, of course, agrees. After all, who could say no to a free cup of coffee, right? And obviously, obviously it had no correlation to the fact that he actually wanted to come back to ogle the baristas. Duh, no.

When he first visited the coffee shop, Baitsakhan never imagined he would meet someone like this who flirted blatantly and paid for his drinks. When he first exited the coffee shop, he never thought he would come back again. When he came back the second time, he never thought that this place would impact his previously non-existent love life.

Only when they are outside the door, Baitsakhan for the second time, An the first, and An is laughing at his lovestruck (Baitsakhan would deny this) expression that Baitsakhan realises that maybe, maybe a tiny part of him has fallen in love with Maccabee.

(Just a tiny part.)

CHAPTER INDEX (for your convenience)

1 | 2

so. how’d you guys like it?

here are the translations:

傻逼 = dumbass/idiot

王八蛋 = its like f er (sry, i rlly dont like swearing in english in writing, i feel like ppl will track me down and yell at me)

好落后 = so behind (as in trends, like in the context of not caught up on the latest trends)

hope that cleared things up a bit, if not feel free to send me a quick message, and i’ll explain to you in detail.

anyways, any suggestions for the next chapter?? (i really need to change the texting usernames, any suggestions for the individual characters?? eventually all of the players are gonna get involved one way or another in the texting conversations)

#endgame #a cup of coffee to warm my icy heart #baitsabee #baitsakhan #maccabee #coffee shop!au

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