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karahalloway · 3 years

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(Un)Common Attraction: Chapter 14 - A Waltz to Remember

Series: TRR (following the events of Book 1, with some changes)

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Rights belong to Pixelberry, most characters and some dialogue belong to them.

Book Synopsis: Harper Gale is a small-town girl working as a waitress at a seedy New York dive bar. After a chance encounter with nobility sees her jetting halfway around the world to compete for the hand of the Prince of Cordonia, her dream of seeing the world starts to come true sooner than she expected. But as the completion heats up, Harper quickly learns that life at court is a lot more than just pretty dresses and fancy balls, and that the polished aristocratic smiles often hide deceit. Does she have what it takes to rise above the gossip and intrigue of the social season, and beat the nobles at their own games? And, more importantly, does she actually want to become the queen of a small European country? Or will her heart have other ideas?

Masterlist: (Un)Common Attraction

Chapter Summary: It’s the night of the Snowball, and after making it through the Cordonian Waltz, Harper has a realisation...

Word Count: 3,200

Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (very minor swearing)

Please read: Author’s Note

Also available on Wattpad.

Chapter 14 - A Waltz to Remember

"Hello, dear guests and welcome to the Nevrakis family chateau!" announces Olivia from the head table. "It means so much to me that you would join me in this place that's so dear to my heart. I hope you enjoy the festivities tonight as much as I will. Now, everyone, please join me up front for the Cordonian Waltz!"

"I guess that's it for the dinner portion of the evening..." I mutter, pushing my chair back to stand up. "That has got to be the worst dining experience I've ever had!"

"They should serve some hors d'oeuvres a little bit later," Hana says. "People tend to get hungry while dancing."

"Not me," announces Drake, downing the last of his drink. "I have no intention of being roped into doing the waltz in front of all these people. If you need me, I'll be right here."

"Catch you later," I say, wishing I had the luxury of choice, instead of having to perform for everyone like a trained monkey.

But Hana and I did not spend two hours practicing the steps for me to chicken out now. So, squaring my shoulders, I make my way towards the dancefloor.

"Good evening, dears," purrs Olivia as we approach. She is hanging possessively on Christian's arm. "I trust you enjoyed the lobster bisque?"

"Oh, the piping hot soup was excellent!" I say meaningfully. "And the extra large chunks of lobster were a real treat!"

"Is that so?" asks Olivia, trying to decide whether I was pulling her leg or not. "Well, I will make a note to pass your compliments onto the staff."

"There's no need," I reply with a sly smile. "I'm sure the staff have had plenty of notes from you this evening already."

"In that case, let us partner up!" she says, eyeing Christian in a not-so-subtle fashion.

"Olivia, will you honour me with this dance?" he asks dutifully.

"Of course," she replies, throwing me a victorious smile as she dips into a curtsy. "Anything for you, my prince."

As we watch the two of them take up positions on the floor, Hana observes, "It would be unspeakably rude for Prince Christian to not dance the first waltz with the hostess."

"Yeah, I know," I concede. "But she could be a little less gleeful about it."

"Ladies," says Maxwell by way of greeting. "Shall we dance, dance, dance?" he asks, doing a little boogie.

Hana giggles.

"Hana, you can go with Maxwell, if you want," I tell her. "You let me dance with Christian at the Masquerade, so why don't you go first this time?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Hanging out with Drake and Hana over so-called dinner had helped lighten my mood, but I did not think I could bring myself to be in close proximity to Maxwell yet, especially during something so intimate as the waltz. "There are plenty of people here, so I'm sure I'll find another partner."

"Well, in that case," says Maxwell, "Lady Hana, may I have this dance?"

"It would be my pleasure," replies Hana, accepting Maxwell's hand with a dazzling smile.

"My lady, will you do me the honour of partnering with me?" queries a voice from behind me.

Turning around, I see one of the new guys who had been hanging out with Tariq offer me his hand.

"Of course," I reply, placing my hand in his. "I don't believe I know your name, Lord...?"

"Just Rashad, please," he replies with a slightly embarrassed smile as he leads me onto the dancefloor.

"Okay, then, Just Rashad," I reply with a small smile of my own. "I hope you know the steps?"

"Of course, my lady," he replies, placing his left hand securely at my waist, and taking my left hand in his right in the high hold that I had practiced with Hana earlier today. "Do you?"

"Just about," I admit.

The orchestra begins playing and Rashad squeezes my hand slightly, indicating that I should step back. I follow his lead and soon we are twirling in time with the other couples to the rise and fall of the music.

"You are an excellent dancer," murmurs Rashad as he brings me back in from a spin to hold me close as we sway.

"You're not too shabby yourself," I reply.

Hana's tutelage had definitely been worth its weight in gold, and I find myself relaxing a bit more as we proceed through the steps.

"Time to switch partners," advises Rashad, unwrapping me and letting go of my hand.

"Lady Harper. You truly are a vision tonight."

"Christian!" I exclaim, as I find myself being swept up into his arms. "Fancy seeing you here!"

"You mean, on the dancefloor of a private ball during a choreographed waltz?"

"Well, when you put it like that, maybe it's not so much of a coincidence..." I admit as he leads me into a graceful glide. "Though, I am surprised that Olivia let you go so easily, given that she has managed to keep you to herself pretty much this entire trip."

"Yes, I admit I probably haven't been as social as I could've been," he sighs. "But since Olivia is our hostess, I would be remiss in my duties if I didn't lavish her with the attention that she deserves."

"One of the benefits of having home court advantage," I muse, as he twirls me.

"True," says Christian, pulling me in close as we start swaying together. "But even though we haven't been able to spend a lot of time together lately, I hope you do know that you are constantly on my mind..."

"Christian..."

"And I hope I can show you just how spe—"

"Ahem!" Olivia has appeared before us with an imperious look on her face. "I believe he's my partner now."

"Oh, right," I say, letting go of Christian's hand.

Looking around, I can see Rashad waiting patiently for me.

"Sorry about that," I murmur, taking his hand.

"That's alright," he replies good-naturedly as he leads me through the steps again. "It appears that Prince Christian has a particular fondness for you."

"Yeah..." I sigh. "But our relationship is so strange. All these courtly protocols seem to have been designed to keep us apart, rather than help us get to know each other better."

"When you're royalty, the rules are different."

"I know. It's still something that I am getting used to."

"You're from New York, right?"

"Yes," I reply, thinking that it would be easier than spilling my whole life story to the guy. "Are you from Cordonia?"

"I am, originally, but I have spent the past few years abroad focusing on various business ventures. It is only recently that I have returned home."

"Once the social season wraps up, I hope to go travelling myself."

"Even if the Prince chooses you?"

"Well, there's always the honeymoon..."

I suddenly feel Rashad stiffen.

Following his gaze, I see Olivia with her arms wrapped around Christian, sticking her tongue down the poor guy's throat.

"That...that is a bold play..." stutters Rashad.

"Yeah, she's not known for being subtle..." I add.

We watch Christian gently extricate himself from Olivia's grip after way too a long a moment, and with a few hushed words, lead her off the dancefloor.

The music winds down, and the men bow to their partners.

"Lady Harper, it's been a pleasure," says Rashad, planting a kiss on the back of my hand.

"Likewise," I say.

As Rashad melts into the crowd, I am joined by Maxwell and Hana.

"Did you see what Olivia just did?" gasps Hana.

"I think that was the point," I reply dryly.

"Yes, and it seems to have caused the intended effect," says Maxwell, inclining his head at the other suitors, who were whispering furiously amongst themselves.

"Looks like little Olivia's all grown up," observes Madeleine, taking a sip of her champagne. "How sweet."

"I knew she and the Prince were close..." breathes Penelope, eyes wide. "But I was not expecting something like that..."

"It was a power move," seethes Kiara. "She would not have dared to pull off something like that at the Palace."

Madeleine shrugs nonchalantly. "Ostentatious displays like that are for the unrefined or and the insecure. I am neither. You will not see me resorting to such a desperate act."

"If you're game, it appears that we have a chance to play a little politics here," whispers Maxwell in my ear.

"What do you mean?"

"Look at Kiara," he says. "She's clearly upset at Olivia's display. And she's alone by the hors d'oeuvres right now. I'd say this is an opportunity. You should use it to get on her good side. If you can drive a wedge between her and Olivia, it might weaken Olivia's position. And if Kiara has good things to say about you, it'll help your reputation at court!"

"I did not realise that you were such a tactician," I respond, wondering again whether I should be wary of Maxwell, or if I should just give my paranoia a rest and reserve judgement until Drake and Bastien dug up some solid evidence. After all, Maxwell was supposed to be helping me through this whole thing, wasn't he?

"I'm not, but it's what Bertrand would advise you to do," admits Maxwell.

This gives me pause.

What if it's actually Bertrand who orchestrated the photos? He certainly seems cold-blooded enough to pull it off... Maybe that's why he was so visibly upset when Maxwell revealed that he had chosen me as a contender for the Prince's hand... Was House Beaumont really so deep in debt that he would resort to such a low-brow move? Though it definitely makes more sense than Maxwell being the culprit...

I feel myself relax a bit more, satisfied that I had come up with a scenario that absolves Maxwell of involvement. I didn't think I could keep dodging him for the entirety of the social season, and I actually liked the guy. Though it meant that I would still need to watch myself around Bertrand...

"Harper?" asks Maxwell, interrupting my thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sorry," I say with a genuine smile this time. "Just thinking about what you said."

"So, are you up for a bit of divide and conquer?"

"Aye-aye, capt'n!" I say with a smart salute before making my way over to Kiara.

"Go get 'em tiger!" says Maxwell enthusiastically, miming a tiger's paw with his hand.

"Good evening, Lady Kiara," I say, sidling up to her to look at the hors d'oeuvres on display.

"Oh! Lady Harper," exclaims Kiara. "Comment ça va?"

It takes me a second to realise that she had reverted to French. After a brief pause, I reply, "Ça va bien, merci."

My accent was terrible, but I see Kiara give me a tiny nod of approval. "What can I do for you, Harper?"

Thank God for Monsieur Pellard in high school!

"I couldn't help but overhear the reactions to Olivia's little display," I say, picking out a few cocktail shrimps and some dipping sauce. "Not very subtle, in my opinion..."

Kiara grips her wine glass in anger. "I can't believe her! She wouldn't have the nerve to do that anywhere else. She's gone crazy with power here!"

"But that doesn't mean we have to stand by and accept it."

"What are you proposing?"

"She thinks she has the upper hand at the moment," I explain. "But, she's self-centred and individualistic, so that leaves her vulnerable. If we work together, we stand a better chance at keeping her in check."

"So, you're suggesting an alliance?" she asks, narrowing her eyes at me.

"Yes," I say. "A mutually beneficial alliance. Olivia may think of herself as the queen bee, but her friendship is a one-way street. And unlike her, if you agree to support me, I'll support you too. Put in a well-placed word here, sing your praises there..."

"I see you're point," muses Kiara. "Normally, I wouldn't entertain such a suggestion, but you seem to share a unique bond with Prince Christian, and we could both benefit from some well-placed support from time to time."

"So, we have a deal?" I ask.

"We do," says Kiara with a smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I should mingle with some of the other guests. A bientôt."

"Ciao," I say.

"So, how did it go?" asks Maxwell as I re-join him and Hana.

"Quite good, I think," I admit. "Kiara seemed open to the idea of working together to counter Olivia's influence."

"Glad to hear it," smiles Maxwell. "You seem to be taking things in your stride."

"Thanks," I say. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go find myself a drink. All this dancing and scheming has made me quite thirsty."

Making my way over to the other side of the room where the drinks table had been set up, I spot Drake surveying the options with a sour look on his face.

"No whiskey on offer, then?" I ask by way of greeting.

"No," he huffs. "There's enough wine and champagne to drown a duke, but, as usual, they didn't bother to put out any of the good stuff."

"Though I'm sure you have your personal supply close at hand..."

"Yeah, but I was hoping to hold onto that until later in the evening."

"So, is there a chance I could tempt you with some wine?" I ask, picking up a glass.

"Normally, I'd say 'hard pass', but tonight I'm feeling adventurous," he replies, choosing a glass of red.

"What shall we toast to?"

"How 'bout, ‘the moments in between’?"

"What do you mean?"

"All the nobles think about are the big events," explains Drake. "The grand balls, the press appearances, the banquets... They don't realise that the moments that truly matter are the ones they tend to turn their noses up at. Little moments... Like this one right here..."

"Wow," I blink. "That is actually quite poetic."

"I have my moments," replies Drake with a wry smile.

"To the moments in between, then!" I say, raising my glass.

"Cheers," he says, clinking his glass against mine.

"Hmm..." I nod. "This wine's not half bad."

"I'll still take whiskey any day of the week, but I can live with this," he agrees. "So, how did the all-important waltz go?"

"Honestly, quite well," I admit. "Hana was great at teaching me all the steps, though I have you to thank for suggesting I ask for her help in the first place."

"Well, my mom did raise me to be a gentleman, even if I am not one by birth."

"Do you miss her?"

"Sometimes," he admits. "I should pay her a visit, actually. I haven't seen her in a while. Though I probably won't be able to until after the social season."

"Speaking of the social season, I have something to tell you."

"Oh, yeah?" asks Drake, raising a brow.

"Could we possibly go somewhere a bit more... private?" I ask. "I don't want people overhearing us."

"Follow me," he nods, setting his glass down on the table and leading the way out of the ballroom.

As usual, I have to hurry to keep up with his long strides.

Once out of the ballroom, he leads me down the main corridor for a bit until he stops in front of a closed door. Checking that no one is about, he quickly opens it and ushers me in before shutting it behind us. It's dark in the room, but Drake soon finds the switch and flicks the lights on.

"We should be able to talk in here without being overheard or interrupted," he advises.

Looking around, I see that we are in a small anteroom that may have once been used as a private study or a drawing room. But, the room seems to have been out of commission for a while, with protective dust sheets having been laid over all the pieces of furniture.

"So, what did you want to tell me?" he asks, leaning against a bookcase.

"Something that Maxwell said tonight," I say. "It got me thinking about other people who could've been behind the photo incident."

"Oh, yeah?"

"But you need to promise me that what I'm about to tell you stays between you, me and Bastien."

"You have my word," he nods. "And undivided attention."

"Okay, so you know how you think someone close to Christian may be behind the whole thing? Well, what if it wasn't Maxwell, but Bertrand?"

"Why d'you say that?"

"Well, even though Maxwell was at the bachelor party, can you seriously see him doing something as nefarious as selling out one of his friends? I mean, the guy is the definition of a loveable teddy bear..."

"Terrible mental image," says Drake with a grimace. "But I get your point."

"Bertrand, on the other hand, is not only the head of House Beaumont, but he is also cold, calculating, and seriously lacking in empathy. It's not inconceivable that he would've know where you guys went in New York because of Maxwell, and hired someone to take photos."

"It is possible. But what would be his motivation?"

I take a deep breath. "Their financial situation. House Beaumont is broke."

"Huh..." muses Drake. "Interesting angle. Do you have any proof?"

"No, not really," I sigh. "Apart from the fact that Maxwell and Bertrand made me promise not to tell anyone. But I figured you wouldn't have anything to gain from the information, and having a motive could help you narrow down the list of suspects."

"I'm glad you hold me in such high esteem," drawls Drake with a wry smirk. Turning serious, he adds, "Bastien and I will look into it."

"Thanks," I say. "Though you'd better not reveal that you are actually the evil mastermind after I just told you all that, because then I'd feel like a complete dumbass..."

"Heh," snorts Drake, moving away from his post to stand in front of me, hands in his pockets. "I know looks can be deceiving, but I promise you can trust me. I want to get to the bottom of this as much as you do. For Chris' sake... and for yours."

"That's sweet of you," I say softly.

"There's nothing sweet about it," he declares, gazing down at me. "I'm just doing what I said I'd do."

"Even so," I insist, tilting my face up to his. "I'm glad you're looking out for me. Whether Christian asked you to or not..."

"You're going soft on me, Gale," murmurs Drake.

His hand reaches up, but he stops himself before he touches me, different expressions fliting across his face too fast for me to read.

"I'm just calling it like it is..."

"Thanks, Gale," he says. "Coming from you, that means a lot."

The story continues in Chapter 15 - In the Heat of the Moment

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@twinkleallnight @lovingchoices14 @petiteboheme @aussiegurl1234 @tessa-liam @alyshak92 @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @princessleac1 @secretaryunpaid

#uncommon attraction #drake walker #drake x mc #trr fanfiction #harper gale

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vegetandbulma · 3 years

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if i knew absolutely nothing about naruto and someone showed me these two pictures and said they were both straight, i'd say you're lying.

not because i'm bi and love LGBT representation, but because HOW ARE YOU GONNA TELL ME THEY'RE STRAIGHT AFTER THIS.

HOW.

YOU CAN'T.

YOU LITERALLY CAN'T. IT'S PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE.

case closed bring in the dancing lobsters.

#kakashi #kakashi hatake #iruka #iruka umino #naruto #naruto shippuden #shippuden #seriously #when have you EVER seen kakashi hold someone's hands like that?#exactly

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thedarkempath · 7 years

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I just wanna remind everyone that Rae has a good, canon relationship with all the batboys that has lasted through years and different reboots of characters

dick:

jason:

tim:

damian:

#long story short rae loves her batboys case closed bring in the dancing lobsters #ooc

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smallblip · 3 years

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Deep sea baby

Levihan | Rated for mild swearing and mild deed-doing | This is a secret santa gift for @hanji-zoe103 💕

It’s on Ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/28429827

Hanji is born of white foam, where the heavens collide with the sea, and Levi loves her with a fierceness that would make the tides jealous. Levi knows little of poetics, but Hanji promises to find him in the next life and the ones after.

And sure as the waves crashing into shore, she does.

Hanji is the sea. Uncompromising, untamable, painfully beautiful. Levi thinks she’s poetry in motion, the way she dances, barefoot across sandy beaches, the way she walks down towards the place where the sea meets land, unafraid amidst white waters.

He sits, like the shores, and watches her. Watches her bend towards the ground, hands dipping beneath foam, searching for shells. She holds them up against the sun to inspect them when she finds them. Treasure, she calls them.

When she’s waist deep in salt water she turns back to look at him.

“Come on Levi! The water is warm!”

≋

Hanji is born of white foam, where the heavens collide with the sea.

And Levi is the most beautiful boy to have walked the earth, so beautiful he puts the gods to shame. And Hanji fears whatever love they have will be short-lived, because he loves her with a fierceness that would make the tides jealous.

It’s a long way from heaven, but Hanji comes to see him every day. She sits with him in a clearing in the forest while he works and he’s sceptical at first. Nothing good comes from associating with the old gods. But the hem of her dress is caked in mud, there’s earth under her nails, and she swears exactly like a sailor would. He teaches her to climb trees and she names all the sheep in his flock.

“Maybe it would be nice to stay here forever...” she says to him one day, and Levi understands the gravity of what she’s suggesting. The heavens would not allow for it. They would cut her up piece by piece and she would be returned to the sea.

But there’s a conviction in Hanji’s eyes, a severity that justifies the cult of mortals at her feet. The same determination that Hanji has when she’s pulling splinters from her fingers, when she picks wildflowers for Levi, when she holds him against her chest and challenges the gods. She balls her fists and curses the greys of the skies, yet she dances in the rain, giggling, pulling Levi to join her. He surprises himself when he relents.

So Levi tells her she has his heart.

Each night he holds her close, and each night she falls into a deep slumber and she dreams of running barefoot through a field of white roses to reach him. She pierces her foot on a thorn and the field is stained red. A field of red roses. Each one blooming and dying at Levi’s feet.

≋

In a kinder life, they are childhood friends in a sleepy seaside town. Levi has a popsicle in his mouth, the last of it melting on his tongue. Hanji has long finished hers, and her fingers are sticky from the syrup. But it doesn’t matter because Levi is burying her in the sand so she can keep her filth to herself. He contemplates covering her mouth with sand too, but they’re going to turn thirteen soon and he’s tired of pretending that her talking annoys him.

“When I’m older I’m going to sail all over the world!” Hanji grins. Levi thinks it’s funny that now she’s just a talking head in the sand.

But his heart sinks a little. He doesn’t know if his future is on a vessel bound to nowhere. But they’re still young and their plans have little structure and bearing, so for now Levi pretends he’s going to be there with her, sailing across the ocean.

“Did you know it’s a myth that lobsters mate for life?” Hanji says, absentminded, part of her trying to distract from the heat, and another part of her already thinking about that ice cream they have waiting for them in her freezer. “Sad huh... Who knew you can’t trust everything on TV...” she laughs.

“Seahorses mate for life...” Levi says. He tries to stay nonchalant, but he’s a little embarrassed he spends his free time googling facts he thinks Hanji would enjoy.

And Hanji knows. Of course she does. She has known him her whole life. In this life and the next he is her Levi. Her Levi with an endless capacity for kindness. She smiles.

“Seahorses huh...”

≋

They meet on a ship sailing through uncharted waters. Levi joins the Royal Navy when it feels like he’s exhausted all other options. There's a hunger for power that guides their ship to foreign lands.

It’s the middle of the night when hears shouting. He jolts awake and already the rest of the crew are reaching for their weapons. There’s no time to change out of their night clothes. The ship spirals into a frenzy. He spots the warning of black sails and white crossbones from afar. The ship is gaining on them. It’s clear they have to stand their ground and fight.

The pirates board their ship, and there’s a wild clash of knives and swords and the smell of blood in the air mixing with the metallic taste of gold and bronze and silvers. Levi lunges but his sword is halted midair by a cutlass.

“Not so fast Officer...” the pirate says. Past the eyepatch and greasy hair he sees her- he feels her. There’s a white rush by his ears calling for him to come home.

I found you, she whispers in his ear as she brings him aboard her ship.

The sea promises gold and riches beyond imagination, and Levi promises to follow her to the ends of the earth.

≋

Levi works in his uncle's bakery a small town in the middle of godforsaken nowhere. It's a family business, and they've been getting good reviews from travel blogs online looking for spots off the beaten path.

Levi is on a date to the aquarium and Kenny yells a “don't come back tonight if you know what's good for you!” after him. There are still customers in the bakery and everyone is staring at him. The teenagers in the corner snigger.

His date doesn't show, but he's not surprised really. The first date had gone by in a way that could be considered painless. But beyond nice pleasantries, there’s nothing much to look forward to. So Levi completely understands. Then again she could’ve at least had the courtesy to drop him a text. In any case, Kenny will be disappointed. He enters the aquarium anyway. Might as well. He had already purchased the tickets, and he hasn’t been since he was a child in elementary school. He watches the sharks swim laps behind the thick glass. He wonders if they feel unfulfilled, living in a tank, watching as people from all around take family trips to visit the aquarium.

“That one’s Bean!” Levi switches his attention from a particularly small shark to the person beside him.

“What?” He replies.

“That one!” She points to the shark making its way past them, “she’s Bean. We rescued her from a fishing net.”

Levi watches her grin with suspicion. Maybe he should introduce himself. He's not usually one to introduce himself to strangers with wild hair and gleaming eyes behind thick glasses, but there's a first for everything, and before he knows it, he's telling her his name.

"Date stood you up?" she says, and Levi glares at her. "Oh... Wait... That really happened?" she apologises, and the stranger with the wild hair and gleaming eyes becomes Hanji. There’s something about the lights in the aquarium, the blues and violets that reflect off the auburn in her eyes in a way that’s almost ethereal.

The things that conspire after are tricks of the light then, surely. Hanji invites him back to her apartment, and they talk and they polish off a six pack of beers and a few bottles of cheap wine between the two of them. "This is fun! I haven't gotten shipfaced in a while!" Hanji chuckles.

“No.” Levi says, he has little tolerance for bad nautical puns. But it only encourages Hanji to tell him more. There's a mix of "where ya fin all my life" and "you're whaley cute", and finally, when she's absolutely smashed, a "nice boat, wanna fuck?"

At that, the dams break and Levi laughs.

Hanji wakes up the next morning, killer headache, she shoots up and the headache splits her skull open. Too quick.

“Ouch...” she says, eyes blinking through sleep and haze. She grabs at the bottle of water by her bedside and shuffles through her drawer for ibuprofen.

“You idiot...”

Hanji snaps her head up, looking for the owner of the voice and there Levi is, leaning against her door, hands folded across his chest. Hanji’s jaw slackens.

“In case you were wondering, no, nothing happened...”

“But... but you’re here... in... in my room...”

“Tch...” Levi rolls his eyes, “you passed out and I stayed just in case you choked on your own vomit and died in the middle of the night...”

Oh...

“Wait did I?”

Levi raises a brow, she’s still not all there. “Still alive aren’t you?”

Hanji shrugs. This could be hell for all she knows. “Fast acting pain relief” proving to be the biggest scam of the century.

"What a fucking shipwreck of a person..." Levi says and it takes Hanji a minute before she's doubled over in laughter, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.

Levi half expects to never see her ever again, but there she is the day after, as promised, finger pressed to the glass, ordering herself a Pain au Chocolat, an Americano, and his number on a piece of napkin. He sighs, but he's writing it down for her anyway.

"You really followed me home that night huh... Didn't it cross your mind that I could be a serial killer?" She says, examining his handiwork.

Levi scoffs, "you invited a complete stranger you picked up at the aquarium into your house, and then proceeded to get very wasted... Didn't it cross your mind that I could have been the serial killer?"

Hanji laughs, and it startles her when it echoes throughout the bakery, "touché..." she says, "guess I am a shipwreck of a person..." she winks.

The corners of Levi's lips betray a smile as he watches her take a seat by the window to read.

"That's not Petra..." Kenny comments.

"Who said I went home with Petra?" Levi answers.

Kenny's face pulls into a smirk and he lets loose a deep rumble of laughter, “Levi you absolute dog!”

≋

The sea is a passage. To a new life that Hanji can only pray will be fulfilling. She is the princess of a port kingdom- a people favoured by the sun and raised by the sea.

Her ships carry her to a distant land of frigid waters and snowfall, where her betrothed is king. When she sets foot on land, she's greeted by faces paler than hers and a mannerism befitting the heartiness of Northern kingdoms. There are skins being made into pelt, fish hanging out to dry, wines made from preserved fruit. Already, Hanji misses the white sandy beaches and the heat of the midday sun, but she's to be queen now, and she remembers this when she walks past the heavy doors into the throne room. She comes bearing gifts of glass beads, fine porcelain, and dried fruit and nuts- a reminder of Summer.

She takes her place beside her husband, and she smiles at the people who have come to see her- the princess from the other side of the sea. They are her people now.

And that's when she sees him.

His expression doesn't change even when he kneels in front of her and kisses the back of her hand. He vows to protect her.

She calls for him later, and he tells her to call him Levi- he has never been too keen on formalities. Besides, Sir Levi doesn’t suit him quite as much. And she's Hanji, just Hanji.

It's Winter when they take a ride through the forest. She's not used to the heavy furs and wools and Levi has to remind her that the sun doesn't shine the same here. But Hanji knows. Her golden skin now mellowing. She hikes her dress above her knees and toes through the snow. The ground caves beneath her feet like powdered sugar, and Hanji thinks maybe there's beauty in her new home. She thinks maybe there's warmth to be found, as Levi catches her before she slips.

He shows her the lake, now frozen over, and they slide over thick ice like children. She pulls him down with her when she falls and they laugh. There's something in his eyes that Hanji recognises as fear. She feels it in the beat of her own heart, warning her against falling. But they’ve been treading on thin ice around one another, and falling seems inevitable.

So Levi presses back against her and kisses her. Hanji feels a warmth coursing through her- the same fire she's promised in the lullabies her mother used to sing her.

"We should come in Spring. The lake is beautiful then..." Levi says as they make their way back to the castle. And Hanji promises to show him her home. The crystal waters; gentle waters. She knows it's a promise that may never be fulfilled, but nevertheless, this is a moment in time, and promises offer a glimpse into possibility.

Come Spring, they make love by the lake, under the cover of the sea of trees. Everything is beautiful in the Spring.

≋

In another life, the sea promises protection.

There’s only one rule out at sea near the white rocks-

Beware the Siren’s song.

Levi lives in a little house by the sea. Everyday he sails out near the white rocks to catch fish.

Hanji circles his boat. Her iridescent tail catching the light and reflecting deep purples and green. She sings her best song for him- the beautiful fisherman with the grey eyes.

"Don’t swim into the nets," he scolds and Hanji is taken aback. She thinks about her beautiful fisherman when he sails for home. And there's a familiar tugging that she feels in her gut. But the weather has taken a turn for the worse and she doesn’t see him near the white rocks. Not the next day nor the days after. She seeks the council of the waters and the waves carry her to shore.

There’s a storm raging. The windows are rattling against their frames. Lightning illuminates the skeletons of his house and there’s a persistent knocking that weaves in and out of the thunder. Levi takes the screaming kettle off the hobs.

He opens the door to her. She’s standing in the rain, hands wrapping around herself to shield from the cold. Levi’s gaze skims from the tip of her nose down to her bare chest, down to her long legs. He swallows thickly. She’s leaning against the frame of the door, shifting her weight from one unstable leg to another. Like a fawn learning to walk. He frowns but nevertheless, he leaves the door ajar for her to enter.

“You’re gonna get the floors all wet...” he mutters. Rainwater he can manage. But seawater makes the floorboards a little sticky, and that annoys him deeply.

“I told you I’ll come for you.” She says.

Levi shoves a towel in her face, “Dry yourself.” He pauses for a moment, taking in the shock on her face. “Please.”

Surprisingly, she does as she’s told, and when she’s done, she hands the towel back to him.

Levi finds her dry clothes, and she pinches and pulls at them, inspecting after she puts them on.

“I’m here to eat your heart lover boy.”

He considers her. It’s colder this time of year and the sea is relentless. But her skin is gold like honey, sun-kissed in a way that reminds Levi of summers and homemade jam and the grass beneath his feet.

“Levi.” He replies.

Levi. she says, smile spreading across her face like butter on warm toast.

He shares his stew with her and she tells him her name is Hanji when her hands are warming by the fire. She looks at Levi, gaze washing over him like a wave. And there’s familiarity in the way his eyes soften when he looks at her. He looks at her like he's trying to call forth a string of memories tying her to him; him to her. But all he has is an affection for her that ripples through his consciousness. It's accompanied by the sounds of laughter- her laughter- and the pale shimmer of moonlight.

So she returns to him the next day, and the day after, and the days after that.

Hanji brings him little pieces of treasure. A conch shell, a dead sand dollar, bits of sea glass. Her legs grow stronger each time. She dances around his house. She pulls him flush against her chest and rests her chin atop his head and sways to a tune she’s humming.

Beware the Siren’s song, they say.

But they’re far from the white rocks and she’s laughing exactly like a lover would. The floorboards are creaking under their toes.

He looks for her when he’s out at sea, and listens as she tells him stories of the depths, about the men who hurt her, about dying at sea, and about the promise of protection and rebirth.

When she wakes again, there's water in her lungs and she learns to breathe. To call the sea her home.

But maybe it's not by accident that she falls asleep in his arms one night, cocooned in white sheets that remind her of sea foam.

She kisses his nose in the morning and he blinks an eye open to look at her. “I’m gonna eat your heart lover boy...” Hanji teases, hair tickling his skin, the sight of him crossing the boundary between sleep and daybreak takes her breath away.

Levi smiles, pulling her closer, "stop moving so much..." he groans. It’s still early, they can still afford a little shut eye. He cradles her in his arms- a promise of protection. “You already have my heart,” comes his reply, in a moment of tenderness, and Hanji doesn't return to the waters.

≋

In others, the sea forces distance between them.

They don't meet in this life.

But sure as waves reaching towards the shore, they meet in the one after.

≋

They're in their second year of college but nothing really changes.

Except when it does, it happens so fast that Levi doesn't have time to breathe. The next time he takes a breath he's lying beside Hanji. They’re both sated and sleepy and Levi stills his breathing, coming down from his high. And Hanji thinks this life is nice. It's effortless in a way that reminds her that they are meant to be.

The Marine Biologists have gathered for a nights out- a pub crawl to be specific. The entire course is decked in ridiculous outfits. There’s a merman somewhere, and a manatee, there’s even a sea snake (moray eel, Hanji clarifies). And Hanji is dressed as a shark.

Levi is there because he gets dragged along to everything that Hanji is a part of and he gets asked one too many times what his outfit is supposed to be. Because he’s in his jeans and a black top and he just looks- normal?

“He’s my next meal!” Hanji says and Levi pulls a face, he chokes out a, “shitty four eyes...” and he’s blushing a little more than he should because does she even hear herself?

Halfway through the night Levi wonders why he’s so tipsy. This is really unlike him. He remembers meeting Hanji’s friend Moblit, whose Aquaman sends Hanji over the edge with laughter. He remembers hearing a round of “oh hey Levi!” (They all know who he is, after all, he’s often hanging around Hanji). Then the beer bong challenge. Oh right. The beer bong challenge... that’s why. Hanji won, at least he remembers that.

And he also remembers dancing with Hanji at the back of one of the pubs. “This is a good song...” he murmurs in her ear and she visibly shivers. But everything is spinning and the music is delicious, touching is also delicious, and they do just that. And at some point Levi must have just gone for it, because Hanji’s mouth is hot and inviting and Levi thinks he’s delirious so he surrenders to the feeling.

They’re back in Hanji’s room, only because it’s only a flight of stairs up and Levi is unzipping her ridiculous costume that surprising does little to ease his raging hard on. And Hanji, god forbid, isn’t wearing anything underneath.

His top comes off once they make it past the main door to her flat. Levi doesn’t even notice the mess in Hanji’s room as they navigate the narrow space and soon they're on the bed, hands moving in what is best described as a frenzy.

It feels so good and Levi finally admits to himself that he has been thinking about this for a while. And he’s almost relieved when Hanji kisses him and lets her want slide down his throat.

Levi wonders if they can still be considered friends. Last he’s checked friends don’t scream each other’s names the way Hanji is saying his name right now as she bites down on his shoulder. Plus, the whole best friends to lovers trope is just one big cliché. And yet, Levi doesn’t hate it. He has to admit it’s actually really nice.

The next morning Hanji finds Levi rummaging through her sink cupboard.

“My extra toothbrushes are the drawer.” She gestures towards the bottom drawer with her toe. They brush their teeth and they're sitting on the bed again, it's the only place for two to sit, really.

“So... Was it good for you?” Hanji says, a little amused with how the entire situation unfolded.

Levi clears his throat, face going red. “Would’ve been better if you weren’t wearing that stupid outfit...” He wants to say he's never felt this way with anyone before, but he doesn't.

“But hammerheads are cool!” Hanji protests and she’s pouting. Levi wonders if now’s a good time to kiss that stupid look off her face or if that’s too much.

“Fucking one isn’t...” Levi mutters. Hanji throws her head back and laughs.

“So... What do we do now?” Levi asks. And Hanji shrugs saying a "admit we love each other and carry on with our lives?" like it had been obvious.

"Sounds good..." he says, smiling, and he thinks they deserve this effortlessness.

≋

Hanji comes back to him like ship returning to port. She thinks about meeting him when he's six and building sandcastles on the beach. He had ignored her attempt at conversation and Hanji had been a little annoyed.

"You don't remember me do you?" She huffed, pout on her face, arms crossed.

Levi was confused, that definitely caught his attention, "do we know each other?" he asked.

"No," Hanji confessed, "no but... I know I'm supposed to meet you." She said with all the confidence a five year old can muster. Levi bickered with her. How can a five year old be so smug? He was a whole year older and he was by no means as confident. He didn't even know whether to pick sushi or pizza for lunch.

And she thinks about the night before she left.

"I like you Levi..." she had said. She willed herself not to cry, so there's a moment in which she's just chuckling humourlessly to herself. And Levi's scowls at her. "Inconvenient huh..." she added. She had to cross the ocean the next day on a voyage bound somewhere far away and this makes it that much harder.

Fucking inconvenient indeed...

They don't make promises, but Hanji wishes they had. She wishes they would have at least addressed her little confession, because it's been eight years. Eight years of it gnawing at her brain and now it's just a little awkward.

Hanji takes a deep breath as she disembarks at port, her feet a little unsteady on dry land- like a fawn learning to walk again. But she sees him. And the knot in her chest unravels. Eight years. It's been too long. She takes tentative steps towards him, but soon she's running and enveloping him in a sweaty embrace.

He's whispering something, muffled because he's pressed into Hanji's clavicle-

“Did you know seahorses mate for life?”

She smiles. Sure as the sun, he’s in her arms again.

Seahorses huh...

≋

Hanji knows whatever life they've led, this is her favourite.

The one in which her and Levi see the sea for the first time together.

The one in which she’s the Commander, and him, her Captain. And between them, a river of words left unsaid threatening to break the banks.

One day they must cross the ocean, but today they visit the shores again, without the kids this time. And Levi learns why when he watches her peel at her clothes. Her harness comes off first, then her blouse, then everything else, like a little dance for an audience of one. Levi tries not to stare, but he’s already seen her by candlelight in the dead of the night. And yet she never fails to take his breath away.

She makes her way to where the white foams dredge the past up the shores of the present.

"Come on Levi! The water is warm!" she says, and he hears it like a call to come home- where the heavens collide with the sea.

He takes off his clothes and folds them in a neat pile beside Hanji's mess. He swims out to join her.

The moonlight caresses her skin and this scene- this moment- is opulent. Levi unties the patch over her eye and lets the waters carry it away. She chuckles. "I'm never going to get that back am I?" she says, holding his hand and guiding him to shallower waters.

And Levi knows there's some poetry to the way she's kissing him. She tastes like saltwater and Summer all at once, and Levi thinks that he has never felt this way with anyone else. Will never feel this way about anyone else. Instead he glowers at her-

“Hanji don’t you dare fucking die... I’ll never forgive you if you do... I swear I’ll-“

Before Levi can continue, Hanji is laughing, sputtering as her head bobs below the surface of the water.

“Even if I do, you don’t have to say goodbye. I promise I’ll look for you in the next life... And the ones after...” She says, brushing the pad of her finger against his nose. The heavens and the sea bear witness. And Levi promises to follow her to the ends of the earth.

Treasure, he calls her, when the sound of white water crashing provide refuge for words that have little place in this life. Levi knows little of the words lovers say to each other, and even less of poetics, yet here he is with Hanji, sitting on the shores now, and watching salt crystal in her hair. He falls asleep that night to the sound of her breathing. And amidst dreams of roses and white foam,

Levi is home.

#I hope you like it hanji-zoe103~#levihan #levihan fanfic #levihan fanfiction #levi x hange #levi x hanji #hanji zoe #hange zoe #LEVI ACKERMAN #mine #shingeki no kyojin #levihanss2020 #levihansecretsanta #my fic

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outoftowninac · 2 years

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THE GIRL IN THE TAXI

1910

The Girl in the Taxi is a three act comedy with songs. It was written by Stanislaus Stange featuring songs by Benjamin Hapgood Burt. It is based on a 1906 French play titled La Fils a Papa by Anthony Mars.

The basic story is a classic one: two people, a man and a woman, step into a taxi at the same time. They decide to share the cab to their favorite restaurant, where mirthful and sometimes naughty hijinks ensue.

Meanwhile, in German in 1910 there was a full operetta with the same story titled Der Keusche Susanne. This came to the US in 1912 as the operetta Modeste Suzanna. To complicate things even further, in 1912 there was another version of the story in London also titled The Girl in the Taxi, by two different authors than the Broadway play of 1910.

This Taxi was first seen in Chicago, where it stayed for six months. It then moved on to Boston, where it played three more months, all to packed houses.

The second act of the show took place at a restaurant. That restaurant was Café Churchill, a French bistro / Lobster Palace / Cabaret located on Broadway and 49th Street. It was open 24 hours a day and was less an eatery than a New York institution. On opening night of The Girl in the Taxi, restauranteur Jim Churchill made a came appearance in the show, and the audience immediately recognized him with cheers and applause.

When the time seemed right to try Broadway, Atlantic City was one of its pre-Rialto try-out cities. It opened on August 15, 1910 at Nixon’s Apollo Theatre on the Boardwalk. Advertising for the show regularly featured as many ‘driving’ puns ad could fit in a column inch. It promised “Powder Puffs and Honk Konks” (whatever that may mean).

“[The] plot was no older than the proverbial hills.” ~ BROOKLYN DAILY EAGLE

The Taxi parked at Broadway’s Astor Theatre on October 24, 1910 and was finally towed away six weeks later on December 3, 1910, after just 48 performances.

The play’s initial performances were well attended, which some critics credited to the fact that Stange’s previous Parisian play, The Girl With the Whooping Cough, had caused the theatres to be closed by the police due to obscenity charges. Perhaps patrons were expecting something salacious - or a police raid? But what they got was something quite tame.

“She will not last long in this neighborhood.” ~ LIFE

Speaking of the neighborhood, The Astor (at 45th and Broadway) was built in 1906 and started showing movies in 1925. The building was demolished in 1982 (along with four other theatres) to make way for the Marriot Marquis Hotel.

“Some very shopworn albeit extremely humorous situations.” ~ BROOKLYN LIFE

Most critics noted that the one song - “Mister Pat O’Hare” by Benjamin Hapgood Burt - was shoehorned in for the leading man Carter De Haven to sing - and that the audience sometimes demanded a second or third song. DeHaven also sometimes threw in a bit of dance!

“It was stupid and inanely vulgar.” ~ LIFE

But the Taxi wasn’t out of gas just yet. The story was made into several films. The first was a now-lost silent film in 1911. That same year the stage production returned to Atlantic City’s Apollo Theatre, a year to the day since its initial appearance on the Boardwalk.

Ten years later, a remake was made, also silent, again starring Carter De Haven.

This Duluth Minnesota cinema offered free taxi service for theatregoers in the area but ‘bring your own shock absorbers’, as the ad says. The husband and wife acting team were ‘burning laughing gas’ and the cure for ‘crank’ cases!

#The Girl in the Taxi #Broadway #Broadway Play #Farce #Atlantic City #Nixon's Apollo Theatre #Boardwalk #Carter DeHaven #Staislaus Stange #Mr. Pat O'Hare #Astor Theatre #Churchill's

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

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Broken Like Me: The Party

Summary: Dean and the reader attend his agency’s annual party where they run into a not so friendly face...

Masterlist

Pairing: Model!Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,700ish

Warnings: language, small fight

A/N: Enjoy!...

_____

“Wow,” said Dean as you stepped out of the hotel bathroom. “Wow, sweetheart.”

“Is it bad?” you asked. He shook his head and stepped over with a big smile.

“It’s amazing. You look beautiful and hot and sexy and I just want to take that dress right off of you,” he chuckled.

“Considering the amount of time Carla spent finding this for me, I think she’d kill you,” you said. “How’s my back look?”

“As beautiful as the rest of you,” he said, touching a hand to your bare skin. It was an open back dress and far more risqué than you had any right to be wearing. Dean trailed his fingers over the faded scars covering the skin there. “I packed the emergency dress just in case.”

“Thank you,” you said with a smile. “But I’m okay. I love this dress and if your model friends have a problem with my scars, then fuck them.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, kissing your cheek. “I can’t wait to show you off.”

“Or we could skip this agency party thing and go to a nice dinner instead and then come back here and get naked?” you said.

“That is incredibly tempting but we flew all the way out here for Carla,” he said.

“I know,” you sighed.

“It’ll be okay. I promise.”

“Y/N, is that you?” said Carla when you got to the party. “Dean must be drooling.”

“Yes, he is,” you laughed, getting a hug from her, Dean getting his own.

“How you doing babe? Getting along with your parents? That goes for both of you,” she said.

“Yes, mom,” teased Dean. “It’s been pretty good. Y/N’s parents gave her her trust fund back. With interest.”

“To which we promptly decided to leave it be for kids and future weddings and all that stuff. Dean and I have plenty between our jobs,” you said.

“Well I’ve never worried about you two and money. So you’re doing better with your parents still?” asked Carla.

“Yeah. It’s a little awkward sometimes still. They grovel a little bit,” you said.

“They’re trying their best,” said Dean. “Excuse me ladies, I think I see a friend over there.”

“How’s he and his dad really doing? It’s like pulling teeth sometimes,” she said.

“John is going to Dr. Bram every other week,” you said.

“Really?”

“Yeah. John’s got a whole bunch of crap he’s gone through apparently. He’s still not a fan of going but he does it for Dean,” you said.

“It sounds like things are calming down for you two finally,” she said.

“Hopefully. We could do with some quiet,” you said.

“I take it you haven’t started wedding planning yet then,” she teased.

“My mom is looking at professional planners for us so that’s a joy,” you said.

“Want me to say anything?” she asked.

“No mom,” you laughed. “I’ll calm her down if she gets too wound up. Dean and I love each other. There’s no need to rush into a wedding.”

“A wedding is honestly just another day in your relationship, sweetie. It’s a very happy day where you celebrate your love for each other with friends and family. But in the end, it’s a day. You love him and the babe is head over heels in love with you. You’re young. Take the time to make it what you want it to be,” she said.

“Do you think I’ll ever get to the point where my mom would say something like that?” you asked.

“I think so. Dean and his father...I thought about coming to pay John a visit more than once and give him a piece of my mind. But now, they seem to be healing that relationship. I’m sure if you’re patient with them, you’ll get there.”

“I hope so,” you said.

“Well when I met you, you never would have been caught dead in a dress like that,” she said. “I think you got this.”

“Well the scars on my face and arms and chest are gone,” you said.

“Your back is actually not what I was expecting,” she said.

“I got a better scar cream,” you smiled. “A whole lot cheaper than laser surgery.”

“Dean ever offer to pay? He can plenty afford it,” she said.

“He brings it up now and again. He makes so much he doesn’t need. He just puts it out there that he would help if I choose to get rid of the rest,” you said. “A majority of the time though, the only person who ever seems them is Dean though so it doesn’t matter. I tell him to put the money towards something he wants.”

“Looks like what he wants right now is you to come save him,” she said, Dean looking like he was pleading with you to get over there. You walked over with a smile, Dean easing a little as you stopped at his side.

“So is this the farm girl that you gave up Calvin Klein for?” said a guy in a white suit, the other guy with them walking away.

“Down girl,” said Dean when you opened your mouth. “This is Kyle.”

“I think she was ready to tear my throat out,” laughed Kyle. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Dean doesn’t speak kindly of many of his model friends. But Kyle Kendricks is always okay with me,” you said.

“I told you I’d win her over,” said Kyle.

“Yeah well you’re a loser so it’s not too hard,” chuckled Dean.

“I don’t think those pictures Dean posts of you did you justice, Y/N,” he said.

“Always a suck up,” you said. “Hey, how’d that shoot for the baby food go?”

“Didn’t happen. Super weird. I was ready to sign the contract and everything and apparently the owners themselves said they got somebody else in mind,” he said.

“Was it Gerber?” asked Dean.

“Nah, the other one,” he said. “I don’t have the new dad look they were going for.”

“Considering you do alcohol commercials, probably not,” teased Dean.

“You been keeping him out of trouble lately?” asked Kyle.

“I do my best...unless of course I’m the one causing it.”

“You should come visit us sometime. We got great barbecue,” said Dean.

“I’m on a diet,” grumbled Kyle.

“Why?” you asked.

“Calvin Kline contract is going up soon. Michael Reyburn is apparently more trouble than he’s worth,” said Kyle. Dean nodded and Kyle gave him a smile. “Dude I know it was your gig and-“

“I had it for all of five seconds,” he said. “It’s a lot of money if you can swing it. Just be careful bud.”

“Maybe I’ll stick with beer,” he said, getting a tap on the shoulder from a man. “I’ll talk to you guys later.”

“The way you described him you would think the man has a pocket protector and grandpa pants,” you said.

“Kyle’s a nerd. We always stuck together. That other guy was Jack Bilson. He’s besties with Reyburn so-“

“Also a dick. Good to know,” you said. “So how long do we have to be here?”

“An hour tops. I promise.”

“Well hello,” said a deep voice. You spun around from where you were eating a tiny piece of lobster on a cracker, the man chuckling at you. “That is a hell of a dress.”

“Thanks,” you said, your mouth full.

“You’re Dean Winchester’s charity case, right? Or maybe he’s yours.”

“I can see why they’re going with another model, Michael. Must be pretty hard to fill out those shorts with what you’re packing,” you said, getting a few laughs out of people close by.

“Sweetie you ought to see what a real man is like.”

“Then why the hell am I talking to you?”

“Never been with someone who looks like they beat a lawnmower in a fight,” he said. You smiled and glanced down, grabbing another snack and popping it in your mouth. “Do you ever stop eating?”

“Michael. Try therapy for why ever it is you’re so angry and leave me and Dean the Hell alone,” you said.

“Said the freak show,” he said.

“Reyburn,” said Dean as he came over, stepping in front of you.

“Oh look, fatty’s here,” he said. Dean clenched his fist and you stood between them.

“Kindly apologize and leave,” you said.

He started to laugh and you got in his face.

“I literally pulled myself from a burning car only to then find myself bleeding out on the side of the road. You know what you do when that happens, Michael? You make a decision and I made the decision to shove my own fingers inside my rib cage to squeeze an artery shut. Do you know how much that hurts, Michael? Do you know what it’s like to sit there, putting yourself in excruciating pain just so you have a chance at living? No. No you don’t. I am very good at dealing with shit and that includes you. Now apologize, please, and stay away from him. Or else.”

“I see who wears the pants in the relationship,” said Kyle.

“I see who isn’t in a relationship,” you said. Michael narrowed his eyes and stormed off. You ate another cracker, turning to Dean. “This is so good. You got to try it.”

“You never talk about your accident,” he said.

“Because I don’t remember half of it,” you said. “Come on. He’s a douchebag. I want to go dance with my very handsome fiancé.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“I am so glad to be out of there,” you said when you were back in the hotel room.

“Remind me not to accept next year,” he said, shrugging out of his suit jacket and heading straight into the bathroom.

“You alright?” you called as you stepped out of your heels. You didn’t hear anything and undressed, walking into the bathroom naked and taking your hair out of its bun. “Mr. Winchester…”

“What?” he said grumpily before he spun around.

“What’s wrong, De?” you asked. He looked you over and rested his hand on your right side, tracing over the long scar there.

“You’re beautiful and I can’t defend you because I’m...this,” he said, glancing down at his body.

“I don’t need a man to defend me. He was bullying me and my best friend. I will always stand up for us,” you said. “My handsome and healthy soon to be husband.”

“Why would you even want me?” he asked.

“Because I love you,” you hummed, giving him a smile. He rolled his eyes and turned away.

“I’m gonna shower. You mind?” he asked.

“Alright,” you sighed. You left and went back to the bedroom, changing into a pair of shorts and one of his shirts. You flipped through the room service menu and ordered some fries and a brownie, listening for Dean to be done with his shower.

When it was still going by the time the food got there though, you went back in.

“Dean. I ordered a late night snack if you want some,” you said.

“I’m not hungry, sweetheart,” he said. You sighed and opened up the steamed up shower door. “What the hell?”

“It has been an hour. You never take showers this long unless you’re upset,” you said.

“I’m not upset,” he said. You stared at him and he groaned, turning off the water. He brushed past you for his towel and you rolled your eyes, going back to the room and nibbling at the food. He didn’t say anything as he came in a minute later, taking his clothes with him to the bathroom to change.

“Since when are we shy in front of each other?” you asked. Dean shook his head and went over to his suitcase, folding his suit nicely. “Silent treatment, very mature.”

“What is your problem? I want to be left alone,” he said, shoving the suit down.

“Tough shit,” you said as you knelt up on the bed. “I care about you and right now, I get the feeling I care a hell of a lot more about you than you do yourself so until further notice, I’m in charge.”

“You’re in charge? Of what?” he scoffed.

“Get in the bed.”

“Make me.”

You stared at him, Dean crossing his arms. You stood up and walked over to him, getting in his face.

“You gonna push me?”

“If you don’t want to talk then at the very least you can indulge me and go lay down on the damn bed,” you said.

He glanced down and went back to his suit, fixing it before he went to a side of the bed and sat down. You went right next to him, Dean stiff until you shifted behind him, wrapping your legs and arms around him.

“What are you doing?”

“Hugging you,” you mumbled against his shoulder.

“Do you remember that night I missed our date? I went to Dr. Bram’s and was a complete mess?” he asked.

“I remember you had a bad night,” you said. He put one of his hands over yours and held onto your arms.

“Part of that night was because of the model that got the contract after me. Reyburn. He made some nasty comments. I thought I was over it but apparently not,” he said.

“Dean. Yes, Michael Reyburn is a physically fit person and yes he is physically attractive. He’s also a horribly ugly person. He’s disgusting and mean. You on the other hand are the kind of person that made someone like me, someone so beaten down from a lifetime of crap, feel happy and beautiful and loved. You’re the most attractive person I’ll ever meet, Dean. The way you look on the outside, everything else, that’s just a bonus, De.”

He looked over his shoulder at you, peeling your arms away so he could turn and kiss you.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“S’okay,” you said. You ran your fingers through his short strands, Dean curling into the touch. “They had cheese fries. I got them just for you.”

“I really should watch what I eat,” he said.

“You had a salad for lunch and we skipped dinner. I say it’s okay, Dean,” you said. “It’s got bacon-“

“That should have been your opener, sweetheart,” he chuckled. You gave him another kiss and hug before you let him go to the table and bring over the food. “I’m sorry Michael was such a pig to you.”

“Well he sounds like he has his own issues to work out,” you said. “Forget him. I also had a great idea while you were in the shower.”

“What’s that?”

“Instead of flying home, want to do a road trip? Hit up some of those places you see on the food channel on our way back?” you asked.

“So no flight and awesome food? I’m sold,” he said. “What about work?”

“I have a lot of unused vacation time. It’ll be fun. We’ve both been busy lately,” you said. “What do you say?”

“I say I’m going to marry a little genius,” he said. He kissed your nose and started to eat, the two of you quiet for a while, your head leaning on his shoulder when you finished. “Y/N.”

“Mhm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Dean.”

______

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