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gucciwins · 3 years

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Roses and Romeo

Harry and Y/N come back to their hometown after eight years to open up a time capsule they buried ten years ago as high school sophomores.

Word count: 20,534

A/N: Hello beautiful friends, hope you’ve been well. I’m really excited to share this story. It is a former high school sweethearts to lovers. Thank you to @havethetimeofyourstyles Jill for creating timetravelathon and allowing me to participate. I am very sorry it’s later but I finished!!! I do hope you all love it.

Also this story is my baby, because i’ve never hit 20k before so this was new and exciting. I just had so many ideas for the story.

please come and tell me your favorite part!

_____

DECEMBER 1989 - SENIOR YEAR

It's December, and all that is on her mind is how the grass would look covered in snow. The cold breeze, an extra jacket to stay warm, a blanket to bundle up with her favorite person. Safe to say, she can only imagine it because California, specifically Southern California, isn't so keen on giving her this one gift she asks for each year.

A huge smile spreads over her face as soon as she sees her house up ahead.

It's not huge, but it is perfect for Y/N. She has the best memories growing up in a house full of love and laughter and the most gorgeous flowers. The iris and tulips bloomed extra bright this year. There is never a day her mom isn't fixing the garden. Her mother always makes sure she has fresh flowers in her room; right now, for the week, she has purple tulips. Also makes a lovely gift to take to her boyfriend. Harry always blushes when she brings him flowers.

It also gets her extra kisses.

Harry parks right outside but doesn't rush out to open her door like always, so she turns to look at him. He's tapping his fingers on the steering wheel; she patiently waits for him to speak up.

She'd wait all day if she could; he has a beautiful face, one that she will never get tired of gazing at. She especially loves that curl that flops down over his forehead; as much as he pushes it away, it bounces back as if he never moved it.

"It's Friday, love." Harry begins, "I think you should consider coming with me to a party."

She pouts. "No, I want to listen to that new record my dad found, and I also have lots to study. Big exam on Monday."

"You're always studying." He groans.

She frowns. "Not true! Calculus is my biggest enemy. Mr. Leanza is not easy on us."

"Okay, Miss 101%." He pokes her cheek.

She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest in annoyance.

"I'm not going to go just for you to tease me."

Harry leans over and steals a kiss before she can dodge him. "Let's play a game." He sees her roll her eyes but asks her to hear him out.

She gestures for him to go on. "I go in and quiz you. Zero wrong out of all the flashcards you have in that bag of yours, and I get to take you with me. I already have parent permission. I'll have you know."

She narrows her eyes at him. Not ever surprised that her parents agreed, they trust Harry. He's given them no reason not to. She's about to tell him, no, but he gives her a big smile. His dimples are on full display, and she finds herself agreeing.

She mutters a small "okay."

Harry smiles, knowing how she likes to make him work for it, but he really enjoys finding new ways to win her over. He might have cheated, flashing her his dimples that he knows she can't resist, but he never said he played fair. "Only if I get to drive Nessie."

Nessie is Harry's classy white 1966 Mercedes-Benz 230 SL. She was never interested in cars, but Harry speaks so fondly of his car that she has come to learn so much about it and loves it just as much as Harry and her father together taught her how to change a tire and check the oil on Nessie. They want to prepare her for anything, and she is thankful because Harry likes to test her from time to time.

Harry smirked, knowing how much she loves driving. She loves it but does not cave in letting her parents get her a car. Her parents have wanted to get her a car since she got her license at sixteen, but Y/N claims it is too much money to spend.

Her parents tell her they have saved enough for her and her education. It's like raising an only child. They remind Y/N all the time since her brother has graduated university and now lives in San Francisco as an engineer in a growing company.

Harry has been meeting discreetly behind her back with her parents on gifting her a car this Christmas. Although he fears that having a car will mean less of him driving her around. Meaning they will spend less time together and fewer backseat make-out sessions, but on an upside also means he'd have to help her christen it.

"Darling, you dating me for my car?"

"Yes, dearie. I started dating you back in our first year because you had Nessie, not because of those dimples and lame jokes.

"You told me you love them!" Harry gasps, offended.

"Tell you what you want to hear." She shrugs, getting out of the car.

"Hurting my feelings, love." Harry now stands in front of her taking her bag from her hand and closing the door behind her.

"Let's get inside." She pushes him to walk in quickly, knowing her parents aren't home yet and her mom isn't due for another thirty minutes, and she would really love to squeeze in a make-out session.

"Compliment me, then we can go in." Harry stands firm in front of her, a teasing glimmer in his emerald eyes.

She reaches up and places her hands on his cheek, planting a small kiss on his nose.

"You're a dreamboat, Styles." She whispers.

Harry can't help the blush that seems to be taking over his entire face.

She pecks his lips and skips around him. "Let's get studying, then you can help me pick my outfit for later."

Harry shakes himself out of the trance she always seems to leave him in. "God knows you need it

JUNE 1998 - SUMMER HOME

Y/N had always known she was a bit crazy but honestly, deciding on making a 44-hour road trip from Massachusetts to California, where her hometown of Aurora takes the cake.

Yes, she knows how unsafe it is to be a woman on the road alone, but she saved up for the trip and would be spending the entire summer home for the first time since graduating high school. A plus was that she knows the map really well, having studied it hard like one of her anatomy books. Also, helped that her father quizzed her on what roads and exits she would be taking.

She's a good driver; her father always told her everyone else is who she had to watch out for. Honestly, she thanked her family for pushing her to drive more, and now she loves being behind the wheel.

The road was never-ending, taking her where she wanted, and currently, she was aiming for home.

It's four hours until she reaches home, a home she has not lived in for over eight years. A place that holds her most precious memories as well as most heartbreaking.

She's driving with the window down, enjoying the breeze, knowing the heat will only get worse the closer to home. A car passes next to her; she looks over briefly, taking in the vehicle's blue color. It does look a bit old; as the driver accelerates their speed, she notices that it's a Mercedes-Benz but can't make the model seeing as the driver must be eager to reach their destination now speeding off. If she's honest, those types of cars remind her of one person, and that's how she knows she'll never escape because she finds meaning for them in anything and everything life has to offer.

The last few hours on the road pass relatively quickly because the next thing she knows, she's parking her Jeep Cherokee in what she used to call her parking. This car has spent nine years with her and runs like a dream. It was a gift from her parents, and at the time, she was nervous about the gesture but really grew to love it. It also came in handy, seeing as she now lives far from home and visits as much as she can. She hopes to make more trips up now that she has residency but knows it will be harder to get holidays off.

Her parents understand; they do. She's following her dreams and achieving each one, and that is all they could ever ask for.

Y/N gets out and gets her suitcase; it has her essentials and anything she's missing; she can come out later to get it, well her father will most likely fight her and do it on his own.

Just as she is about to open the door, it swings open. Her mother doesn't give her any time to react and simply wraps her in a hug. A tight one full of love and happiness, an embrace she will never get tired of.

"Hi, momma," Y/N murmurs, not at all ready to let go.

"Hello, my sweet girl. It's good to have you home."

"It's good being here. Feel younger already."

"Ah, same here. Come inside; I have lemonade served up and muffins because they are your favorite."

Y/N smiles, knowing how much her mother made sure to have her well-fed always. No matter what she told her, she wanted her with meat on her bones. This also meant anyone who she brought home was given a big meal as well. Telling everyone and anyone they were too thin then proceeding to provide them with a second serving. This was her mother's way of getting into people's hearts through their stomachs.

Y/N walked into the kitchen and smiled at how nothing had changed. Hanging on the refrigerator were her three graduation photos: high school at seventeen, ready to take the world by storm, at twenty-one graduating with the highest honor from Columbia University, and the last was graduating Harvard Medical school this past spring. She knew the next to join would be a photo of her on the first day of her residency.

"Your father refuses to take any down; when your brother comes into town, he complains. Your dad shuts him up by telling him to go be a doctor, and then they could talk."

It warms Y/N's heart that her parents are proud of all the accomplishments she has made. It's been a tough road, but nothing stops her until she accomplishes her goals, and starting her residency is the next stop.

"Like dad's office is covered full of his accomplishments since entering that job in San Francisco." She jokes, transitioning the conversation away from herself.

"The oldest child always seems to be the most jealous." Her mother reminds her.

After eating a muffin or two, her mom sends her off on a walk, not wanting her to be cooped up in the house on her first day back. She has always loved walking around. It's something she did when her friends weren't able to offer her a ride. Also, her parents would walk her to the park every weekend growing up to run around in the grass and ruin more clothes with grass stains.

It's no surprise that she arrives at the entrance of the town's park. It looks like there is no one around until she really enters and finds a family seated on a picnic planet as their youngest tries feeding their oldest strawberries. It's a sweet sight.

She keeps going, not at all wanting to disturb; soon enough, she enters the part of the park no one really visits and finds the old park bench with lots of initials carved in the wood, hers included. It creaks as she sits on it; she smiles, knowing that it is something that has not changed.

There aren't many flowers in this corner, just a big willow tree offering her shade that she very much enjoys.

It's nice being home, she's missed it, but she has loved living in new places, making new friends and connections. She spent her first four years in New York, and she loved the environment. It was a university filled with thousands of people never seeing the same face twice in the halls. Everyone was always in a rush to get somewhere but not here, not at home. Everyone stops her for a conversation. They talk to her as if no time has happened, as if she was still the young girl who helped her mom tend the garden each weekend.

In a way, she always will be.

She wanted this time to explore and travel because she knows this where she'll come back one day to lay her roots. She and her future husband will marry here, maybe at the botanical garden with the beautiful flower arch all year round. It's where she sees her children growing up and running around as she once did. She's got her residency to finish up, but she's looking forward to when she can call Aurora home again.

After sitting for a while, she decides she will come back with a book or two next time. If she's going to be here all summer might as well start by doing some reading on books she has not gotten around to reading. Y/N is thinking about leaving when her eyes spot a couple coming down a hidden path, a small daisy behind the girl's ear, her arm tight around her boyfriend's arm. He's got the biggest smile on his face. They look so lost in each other, one can feel their love.

It reminds her of when she used to do that. When she did that with Harry before they broke up and never spoke again. It breaks her heart, but it also brings back some of the best memories. He'd always bring her here just so they could talk for hours so that she'd tell him more about the flowers and to kiss in private.

One of her favorite memories is when they were in their third year of high school, and he asked to meet for a surprise. She stands up and shakes the memory away, not wanting to get lost in her thoughts. It's harder to do now that she's home and she can see him everywhere she looks.

With that last thought brushed away, she decides to walk back home. She's got a few days to herself before meeting with everyone; there was the big reason she was back in town.

It was time to open a box of memories.

APRIL 1989 - JUNIOR YEAR

Harry is up to something.

She suspects something because he made her walk to the park when he would always be quick to offer her a ride. Sure, it's only a ten-minute walk from her house, but he always says something along the lines that not everyone is as kind as they seem.

It's April, and the flowers are in full bloom. She hears the birds singing, and she swears they sing of the beauty of the flowers. It's also bee season, meaning lots will be around the park, and as much as she loves them, Harry has a big fear of them. Y/N has mentioned various times that they don't mean to harm him; it can just happen. Especially if they get startled.

Y/N takes note of a new flower; it's a small white four-petaled flower that grows in fragrant clusters. They smell divine, but she knows she has never seen them. She really wishes she had her father's polaroid on her to take a photo and show her mother. Any other day she would turn back to do just that, but Harry is waiting on her.

She walks to the back of the park where Harry has claimed their spot, their initials carved in the bench make sure of that. He's standing next to the viola's, and they stand dull next to Harry.

"Hiya, angel." Harry greets hands hiding behind his back.

"Hello." She greets softly; Harry can easily note she's nervous. Any other time she would have given him the biggest hug, but right now is keeping an appropriate distance.

"Are you nervous?" He teases, which honestly calms her down because if he's teasing her, it surely means he doesn't want to break up so she can toss that idea right out.

The last few ideas left are that it's an important anniversary and she's forgotten, or he just wanted to be romantic.

She hopes it's the latter.

"Not so much anymore." She replies truthfully, stepping closer, desperately wanting to give him a hug. He looks warm in his knitted baby blue sweater; she knows it was a Christmas gift from his grandmother, his new favorite.

If he's not wearing his cardigan, he's wearing his varsity jacket, but it's at the dry cleaners because when it's not in his possession, it's in hers. She likes the heaviness of it, how small it makes her look. Harry is the perfect height, standing at what she thinks is 6'0, but she can't be too sure. His broad shoulders only seem to grow stronger each summer after returning from two weeks of football camp. At this point, she wears his varsity jacket more than he does. Sure, she can get an academic one she has more than enough patches to choose from, but it just isn't the same; besides, she rather spend her money on books and records.

Harry tells her his favorite thing about her wearing his jacket is that it has his last name. He knows marriage is long down the line, but he does hope to share the same last name one day.

It's his most prominent dream.

But currently, his big dream at the age of seventeen is asking the prettiest girl to prom.

Harry brings his hands forward to reveal a dozen lavender roses in his hand. Y/N gasps at their beauty, not at all expecting this. They are gorgeous, and she can't wait to show them off to her mom as soon as she gets home.

"My love," Harry starts closing the gap between them and bringing her left hand to his lips to place a soft kiss before setting it back down to rest close to his heart that is beating just for her. "Will you do me the honor of being my date to prom?"

She smiles wide, not at all expecting him to ask, let alone for it to be this romantic and intimate.

"Yes, of course." She wraps her arms around his neck, and Harry spins her around, letting out a small holler of excitement.

"The roses are beautiful; they must have cost you a pretty penny," Y/N tells him as soon as he sets her down so she can admire them again.

"Well, darling. You're worth every one. It also pays that your mom gets on well with the town's florist."

She giggles, nodding.

"Now, how about we walk over to my car and celebrate with a make-out." Harry wiggles his eyebrows at her, knowing he needs very little to convince her.

"Harry!" She chastises, looking around to see if anyone heard, but the park is empty, not a soul in sight. "How about we take a stroll around the park, then we'll see afterward."

"You're a little tease, love." She leans in and pecks his lips two times. He tries for a third, but she hurries off.

"Come on, dove. We've got to see the rest of the flowers that are blooming." Y/N's voice is full of excitement at the chance of walking around the park for the next hour, hand in hand with her boyfriend.

Harry grins happily, following after her, he may be young, but he knows he will do whatever is in his power to always see her happy and smiling.

JUNE 1998 - HOME

"Dad!" She yells as soon as she walks in the door; she sees him stand quickly from his seat on the couch and embraces her in a big hug.

"My baby is home." He whispers.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too, sweetheart."

"How was work?"

"Awful, when I knew I had my two favorite girls at home waiting for me."

Y/N laughs. "Always a sap, dad."

Her mother makes her presence known. "This is a lovely sight. I've missed it."

"Yes, as have I." Her father gives her one last kiss to her head and lets her go.

"Any plans?" Her mother questions walking back from the kitchen, placing a cup of tea for Y/N on an old family coaster.

Y/N takes a seat on the couch, as do both her parents wanting to carry on the conversation.

"I'm meeting Sarah and Sydney for breakfast one of these days, most likely going to spend the entire day together. Then, everyone else won't be coming around until the week after. Think it will be on Friday, seeing as that is what worked for everyone's schedule.

"Happy to see your friends." Her mom states, the wide smile on Y/N’s face confirming her statement.

"Yes, chatting isn't as easy as when we were in high school seeing each other that day. There are lots of emails sent back and forth between us."

"Glad you girls stayed closed. Was worried you would all drift away." She reaches forward to squeeze Y/N's knee.

Y/N knew she meant it about Harry. How no one thought anything would come between them that they would make it through university and settle down soon after. Oh, how wrong they all were. As much as they hoped for the best, they were each other's downfall.

"It's a bit late; I'm going to shower and head to bed instead."

"Before you go, can I say something?"

Y/N recognizes the gleam in her mother's eye and nods, knowing she has to get this off her chest.

"It's sadly a man's world out there, but you have managed to make it your own." She reaches forward and takes Y/N's hand in hers, pressing a gentle kiss before settling it in her lap. Y/N smiles. "I know you long to love and share it with someone, and I want you to remember that the person for you is out there. As a mother, I know these things, and I wish you nothing but the greatest things in life, but they all come when we are ready for it."

Tears well up in Y/N's eyes, she nods. Not replying to her mother's words because she knows if she speaks, she will cry.

"Lorelai, you made her cry." He whispers, pulling both women into a squished hug.

"I've always had your father, and I hope you find that someone for yourself."

She pulls back and wipes her tears away. "Thank you." Y/N leaves her parents with a final hug.

She heads up the stairs to the room that holds all the memories she has kept locked away. In her home, there are no longer any photos of her friends or of him. Not like before, where they were spotted on every wall displayed for all to see. Her mother took them off after she left for university. It broke her mother's heart to see her suffer such a big heartbreak. Harry had become like another son to her parents, so they were all sharing the heartbreak. She missed everything about him, but it has been years since they last spoke.

It's been eight years since they last talked, last kissed but not the last she's thought of him. He's coming for the time capsule opening, and as much as she tries to convince herself she's going to be alright, she knows she's not. Yes, she's moved on. She has built a life without him in it, but it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

All she can do is count the days until she leaves Aurora and goes back to the comfort of her apartment in Massachusetts.

____

It's been a week since she's been home, and she knows everyone will show up in two days. The friends she was sure she'd never lose touch with but slowly did with time no matter how each tried, but life moves on.

Y/N is nervous to see everyone. She's changed in the last eight years, but so has everyone else. She misses what they used to have in high school but honestly, getting to hear what everyone has been up to will be fun. Who knows, it might feel as if not time has passed at all?

She met up with Sarah and Sydney earlier for breakfast at the old dinner. The girls spent a good five minutes embraced in a hug before they took their seats. They ordered too much to eat but, to no surprise, finished it all by the end of their conversation.

The time together was spent mostly catching up and jumping from topic to topic. She did feel she was asked one too many questions about starting her residency and how they will be addressing her as a "doctor."

Y/N brought up Sarah's love life wanting to hear how they were doing. Sarah and Mitch did not start dating until after graduating high school, finding out they were going to the same university just an hour away from their hometown. Everyone was aware of Mitch's heart eyes for Sarah, but she was too focused on her internship, always wanting to do good. One can imagine how happy everyone was when news spread that Sarah asked Mitch out and was quick to say yes. Now eight years later, were happily moved in together. Sarah is a music engineer, and Mitch a music teacher at the local high school; as mellow as Mitch is, he gets on well with the teens.

Having focused on love and Sydney quickly saying nothing new was going on with her, just that she was more in love than she could have ever imagined, it was time to hound Y/N, it seems. They asked about her love life and how good-looking the boys in Massachusetts are.

Y/N told them how nonexistent her love life has been since she graduated high school. It's not something she ever made time for, and her friends understand as much as they hate that for her. Sydney did not stop herself from making a joke on what seems to be Y/N's long dry spell. She shrugged it off, not at all bothered. Y/N assured them she knows how to take care of her own needs until the right person comes along. They all knew who she hoped would be the right person, but they knew better than to bring him up.

Once again, there was a change of pace. Sarah surprised them with tickets to Spice Girls at a sold-out Madison Square Garden concert on July first. Six tickets, a perfect number for their friend group. It was perfect, honestly. Sarah figured they'd road trip up the last week of June and could stay in Y/N's shared apartment with her roommate, who would not be home yet. Then take a train up to New York for the show. Also, told them they'd have hotel rooms for the night already, having an idea there would be an after-party. Y/N was all for it as was Sydney.

Y/N has always loved concerts; it's something she saves for not bothered to spend some money to enjoy a great show for one of her favorite artists, especially in good company. The long queues were a downfall, but not everything is perfect. She has gone to concerts and knows that one can make the best experience out of floor seats and nosebleeds. Artists never fail to amaze.

It reminds her of the first concert she ever went to that Harry took her to their senior year. The ticket stub she has pinned next to a polaroid that a stranger offered to take for them. It was before the show, and they had matching grins. It's still one of her favorites, and the reason she doesn't take it down is too good of a memory to keep hidden away.

While seeing Sarah and Sydney was good and everything she hoped it would be, it did not prepare her to see the others. She had not talked to Zac in a long while, having no idea what he was up to. Mitch is quiet and only says hello when she has called with Sarah and Harry; well, it's like she doesn't exist to him. Not since their last day together.

Y/N has two days to prepare.

Two days to wrap her head around the fact that she's going to see Harry.

AUGUST 1989 - SENIOR YEAR

Many people told her to enjoy her high school years because they would fly by, and she accepted the advice and made memories to last a lifetime in the three years leading up to her senior year. Her friends and family have made each year memorial. Still, there is something about senior year, and knowing that it is their last year before university has her excited and anxious.

Harry repeatedly told her how he wanted it to be their best year yet and promised to do just that. She has no doubt in her mind he will accomplish that in whatever way. He's managed to do so year after year.

Harry made sure to pick her up each morning, never wanting her to worry about walking alone to school or arriving late. He made sure he knocked on her door every morning.

Depending on the time he showed up, he was ushered in for a homemade breakfast, or sometimes he said a quick hello before grabbing her hand and rushing out the door because they were running behind schedule, and Harry knew he could not make her arrive late.

One thing that was always constant was how he carried her bag to his car and opened her door. He made sure she was settled before reaching down for his morning kiss. Sometimes, he went as far as putting on her seatbelt, just wanting to be close to her.

Today was Monday, and he usually comes in, but today he selfishly told her to grab him a slice of toast because he was in a hurry. She didn't question him and sent her apologies. Her mom kissed her cheek and told her not to worry about it. A true angel, her mother was.

Harry slipped her bag over his shoulder before ushering her in. She felt a little flustered with his urgency but let him be. He stole a quick kiss before going to the driver's seat.

"What's got you in a rush today?" She asks, genuinely worried.

He smirks, looking over at her. He seems calm, not that they've driven away from her house. "Thought we could use the extra time for some kisses. You deprived me this Sunday." He pouts at her, waiting for the light to turn green.

"H, you know I have dinner with my grandparents one Sunday a month." She chastises him.

"I know, darling, doesn't mean I like it." He tells her. "Had to suffer a Sunday alone."

"Well, at least I know how I can make it up to you." She teases.

Arriving at school, Harry parks toward the back under a shady tree, one far away from everyone.

"Want to sit on my lap, baby?" He asks, spreading his thighs, and as much as she wants to, she shouldn't knowing very well what he can convince her to do when in his lap.

"Later, H." She promises.

"I'm holding you to that, angel." He unclips her seatbelt, quickly placing his lips on hers.

She feels how smooth his lips are and knows he stole her cherry lip balm again. "Harry, that's the third lip balm you've taken in two weeks." She pulls away, rubbing her thumb over his bottom lip that he juts out. He gives her thumb a soft kiss.

"Swear I was going to put it back this time." He moves closer, placing a kiss on her neck, slowly trailing down, pushing his varsity jacket down her shoulder, exposing more of her neck. Her black corduroy pants and white acrylic sweater, and her favorite worn-out Mary Jane's mother have been begging her to change out. She likes to think it adds an extra flair to her outfit. "You drive me crazy when you wear my jacket," He whispers in her ear.

"Does that mean you're always going crazy?" She whispers back, knowing he mostly wears the jacket during game days.

"Always make me lose my mind."

After a fun half-hour of making out, Y/N pushes him back, knowing she has matching bruised lips. She loves that everyone can see what she did to him. She also may have sucked a little too hard on the skin right below his collar, the love bite just barely visible. She pulls down the sun visor, looking in the mirror to straighten out her hair, that Harry just loves digging his fingers into.

"Baby, what did you do?" Harry says, looking at the fresh mark just by his collar bone.

She smirks, knowing very well that Harry loves when she marks him. Not doing it very often in fear of getting caught by their parents.

"Got to remind those girls that stare at you who you belong to." She reapplies her lip balm before layering the new lip gloss her mom got for her the other day.

"You know I've only got eyes for you, love." He says, caressing her cheek softly.

His gentle tone of voice always makes her soft, but it also might be that his accent seems to stand out even more.

"I know, H." She leans in to give him one more kiss but pulls back quick enough to not let him deepen it.

"Sneaky, baby." He clicks his tongue at her, rushing out and rounding the car to open her door, offering her his hand.

She gladly accepts it, placing a kiss on both cheeks before landing on his lips.

"I love you, Styles." She whispers against his lips, eyes closed as she tries to catch her breath.

"And I love you, my darling angel." He softly nuzzles her nose, causing her to let out a small giggle.

"Let's get you to class." He says, throwing his arm over her shoulder pulling her in close.

Harry is smiling wide; she takes notice as she looks up. He looks extra giddy.

Too giddy, and it has nothing to do with their steamy make-out.

She narrows her eyes at him, "what's got you extra smiley?"

"Nothing, happy all the time."

"Nuh, uh. Styles. I know you. Fess up!" She stops walking, wanting him to answer her.

"It's because my girl marked me up today for all to see. Makes me feel special." He answers smoothly.

Y/N looks at him in suspicion, not buying a single word he's saying, "I'm onto you, Styles."

Harry lets out a deep breath before stepping close to her. "Let me surprise you, darling."

She instantly relaxes. "Okay, only because you know I like surprises."

"Thank you." He rests his forehead against her, happy to be in her space, forgetting all around him until he hears a shout of his name.

Moment over, it seems.

"Let's get you to English Literature," Harry murmurs, intertwining his hand with hers making sure she's close by as Sarah greets her.

_____

It's lunchtime when they walk hand in hand to the lunch tables where Mitch and Sarah sit, stalling their conversion to greet them. Before she can take a seat next to Sarah, Harry pulls her in his lap. He leans in close to her ear and whispers that he'll give her his chocolate chip cookies Anne had baked. She silently agrees, grabbing the bag Harry was offering her. What he didn't disclose is that his mum had sent them specifically for her. They have three empty seats, but she can see Zac and Sydney approaching, carrying food trays. Meaning, neither had lunch prepared for the day.

Y/N leans back against Harry getting comfortable, knowing that he wouldn't be letting her go any time soon. The chatter begins with how their weekend went and what this week's activities are. She knows she doesn't have much to do this week; her club meetings don't meet until next week. Harry has football practice all week, meaning she either visits the library or finds a ride home. She doesn't mind staying and watching his training, but Harry hates knowing she sits there alone for so long. He rather have her be home warm and cozy than on the cold bleachers.

Harry asks for her attention by placing a kiss on her neck, his tell sign that he's feeling left out.

"Yes, H," She whispers for only him to hear.

"Need your attention. Don't like sharing."

"You're extra needy this Monday, dove." Y/N has his hands in her lap as she begins to trace circles on his palm; it's something that soothes him instantly.

"I just want to know our plans this weekend." He kisses her cheek, nuzzling his face in her neck. "Rather you get parent permission early on than last-minute giving them a chance to say no."

Harry's right; there are occasions where her parents have said no, and Y/N finds herself sneaking out from her window that conveniently has an old tree that makes it all the easier.

Her parents trust them together, but if they really knew what happened behind locked doors, they would think otherwise.

"Do you want to go kiss a little?" He wants her to say yes.

"At your car or in the abandoned hallway?"

"What's quieter?"

"The hallway, and it's closer."

Harry nods, gently grabbing her waist and helping her stand. "We'll see you later," Harry says, interrupting their conversations.

"Oh, Styles, you've corrupted her." Zac teases very well, grasping what they were about to go do.

"Think she's corrupted me. Who knew angels could be so dangerous?" Harry teases in front of their friends.

Y/N feels her face warm, bidding them all a quiet goodbye. Harry, having rendered her a bit speechless. She swears she never knows what is going to come out of his mouth.

Harry all but drags her to the hallway. He gently pushes her back against the wall next to an older poster for the school play. Y/n glances down at his lips before looking into his eyes.

"Did you really bring me here to kiss, or are you spilling the surprise?" Her eyes are big and filled with hope.

"Sorry, baby. Really did want some kisses from you." He pulls her closer wanting no space in between them. "Really missed you. Can't believe we only have one class together."

"It's like they know you wouldn't pay attention to me in a class with you." She teases.

"Kissy." He pouts his lips, feeling like they've talked enough.

Who is she to deny him when he asks so sweetly.

Y/N always felt like time stopped when she kissed Harry. She felt her heart pounding in her chest as her knees grew weak, and as if Harry knew, he wrapped his arm around her waist, keeping her up. Harry pulls away slowly, a smile growing on his face. He would never tire of kissing her.

Harry leans in and nuzzles his head in the crook of her necks, slowly beginning to place kiss after kiss before he finds his favorite spot and begins to suck lightly, pulling a surprised moan from her.

She pushes him back. "No love bites that high. It will keep us locked up in the house all weekend supervised.

Harry tenses at the thought, knowing fully well her parents would do that, having done it before when they first started dating, and he thought more with the thing in his pants than his brain. "I guess I'll just have to bruise these pretty lips."

Never one to tell him no, a small nod is enough to make Harry lean in and take her breath away. He'd kiss her forever if he could, but the last fifteen minutes of lunch break would have to do for now.

_____

Monday's always drag on; she goes home, does homework, reads a book, and waits for dinner to be ready. Most days, she joins her mother in cooking; both like conversing about their days. More than ever, they have lots to talk about, from holiday plans to the universities she is applying for. She has saved up allowance allowing her to use it for more universities than the average three. If it was up to her, she'd send one to all the universities because that is how confident she is not only about her grades but how she comes off as a student on paper.

Dumping most of her books in her locker, she keeps Calculus in her bag, knowing the sooner that homework gets done, the less stress she'll have. Just as she shuts her locker, she hears footsteps approaching her.

"Is my girl ready to go?"

"She is."

Harry swings his arm over her shoulder, and they begin to walk out the school doors that are kept wide open. There are groups of students lingering talking to another, and in the distance can hear cars driving away eager to get away.

Y/N smiles at a girl who sends her a wave, recognizing her from her English course. Harry walks them under a tree, a reasonable distance away from everyone because, as she has come to know, he likes kissing her in private.

"Our first game is in two weeks." Harry reminds her.

"Yes, exciting."

"Will you be there, or is there a test to study for?" He teases.

She frowns and takes him by the lapels of his varsity jacket that she gave back to him at the end of lunch because she claimed it was losing his smell.

"Don't start, Harry. You know I've never missed a game, and I won't start now."

"Was only teasing, love."

"Didn't like it."

"Sorry, love. Forgive me? He pouts, wanting her to smile at him instead of frown.

"You know my price." Y/N shrugs.

He sighs, nodding his head three times before moving to get on his knees, toying with unbuttoning her pants.

She gasps and jumps away. "Harry!"

Harry can't help but smirk, "Isn't that always the price."

"I just wanted a kiss; no need to make a scene." He shrugs. "Now, don't you have a practice to get to?"

"Ugh, I do." Harry groans, dreading practice knowing the coach likes to run them twice as much for not working out on the weekends.

"Give me a kiss, please. Then you'll come by later, right?"

"That is correct." He leans in, giving her three consecutive pecks on her lips.

"Who's taking you home again?" He asks, wanting to make sure she's safe.

"Sarah and Mitch."

"Right, good. Well, off I go, poppet."

"Bye."

Harry turns and heads toward the field, where he can see the freshman already setting up drills and getting the water jug out to the bench. He's only taken a few steps when his angel's voice stops him.

"Dove,"

Harry can feel his cheeks turn bright red at the term of endearment. He turns and takes two steps back to her. "Yes, lovie."

"Will you give me one more kiss?" Her voice soft and innocent but the gleam in her eye is anything but that.

Harry takes the last step towards her and holds her face with both hands reaching down and kissing her passionately. He pulls away after what feels like a lifetime, slowly as he tries to steady his breathing.

"I love you," she whispers.

He presses a final kiss to her forehead. "And I love you." Harry turns and begins to jog away, recognizing he's got a limited time to get dressed and out on the field to warm up. He's a few feet away but turns his head to see her watching him still. "Tell your mom I'll be joining you for dinner."

She nods, letting him know she heard him before he turns a corner and out of her eyesight. Only then does she go in search of her waiting friends who will bring her home.

______

After Y/N informed her mother that Harry was going to join them for dinner, she got up to cook, wanting everything to be ready for when her father and Harry arrived, seeing it would be around the same time.

Y/N made herself scarce as her mother was in no mood to converse. Instead, she wanted to cook, and maybe if she planned her time accordingly, she would do dessert.

Dinner time came around quickly, meaning she was lost in homework for a good few hours. She walked downstairs wanting to help her mom set the table when the front door swung open.

"Hello, father!" Y/N bounced over to him, giving him a big hug and a peck on his cheek, one that he happily returned.

"Hi, my sweet girl."

"Mom cooked a delicious dinner. We're just waiting on Harry." Y/N told him, knowing he's hungry from a long day at work.

"Won't have to wait long; Harry was just parking when I was on the steps."

Y/N's eyes lit up at hearing that he arrived. Her father chuckled, "I'll go say hello to my wife, dinner in ten, okay."

Y/N walks out to see Harry coming up the stairs in a cozy blue emblem sweater with denim Levi jeans and paired with his old white Chuck All-Stars. She smiled because he went home to shower, not wanting to wear his clothes from earlier or come over smelling like sweat, not that she minded.

"You know we don't mind the sweat, H," She tells him as he's climbing up the last few steps.

He shrugs. "I know, but I am a guest in your home and would never dare disrespect your parents and you, of course."

Y/N grins. "Four years dating, and you continue to prove to be the most perfect boyfriend."

Harry looks away, feeling bashful. "I wouldn't go that far."

"I would, dove." Y/N closes the gap between them. "Now, I say you kiss me before mom calls us in for dinner."

"It would be my greatest pleasure."

____

Dinner was a success, conversation always flowing well. Y/N likes to sit back and listen to her parents talk with Harry as if they hadn't seen him in forever when he is more than likely to be here every other day. Her father is a big fan of football; he too was once a player. No, he wasn't quarterback; he was right-wing and helped his team make it to state championships.

The high school team has won three state championships since Harry's first year as a freshman. They counted on making it the fourth year; no doubt in anybody's mind it would happen. Y/N picked up on her father's excitement going on and on about the first game and how it was the most important one now that scouts would be coming out more and more. Without a second thought, she reached over and placed her hand on his thigh, lightly squeezing, reassuring Harry she was there for him. He slowly turned the hand on his thigh palm up and intertwined them together.

"Thank you so much for dinner, Lorelai. Luke, thank you for the great conversation. I can't wait to see you both at the game."

"We wouldn't dare miss it, Harry," Lorelai tells him, a wide grin on her face as she picks up the dishes.

"Now go on; I'll help your mother with the dishes tonight." Luke gestures to them to get up and get their privacy. Y/N thanks him and takes Harry's hand, leading the way up the stairs.

Now they are lying on her bed, it's got enough space for them to be spread out, but she prefers to lay across Harry, her head on his chest as he rests his head on her pillows.

Harry had his hand in her hair, always calming for her and for him. Allows them to sit in comfortable silence, basking in the joy of being together.

Many people ask them if they ever get sick of seeing each other every day and never giving each other space after dating for so long. That isn't entirely true because when they aren't at their respective extracurricular activities, they are found together. Harry's response is always, "she's my favorite person." Y/N just shrugs and smiles, "he's my best friend."

Believe it or not, they spent around in her room listening to music or in his house watching movies from their grand VHS collection. Most thought they spent it making it out, not that they don't do that because they are just as in love as when they got together four years ago. When they walked into any room, her parents were sure they would be kissing, which is why the open door policy exists. Well, half-open is the agreement now.

Harry looks around her room, his eyes settling on the polaroid photo on her bedside table, one of them smiling at each other, lost in their own worlds. It's dated 06-18-1989<i<, it was from one of their many summer days spent together. He decided now was as good as time to bring up what he had been hiding.

"You know how we were making plans for the weekend, sweetheart."

"Yes, you didn't let us decide on anything."

"Well, what if I did?"

She sits up and moves to sit in front of him. "Okay, I'm all ears.

"You up for a drive?"

"Always, so drive me to the moon, please."

Harry laughs. "Serious for a sec, baby."

"Sorry, yes, go on then." She interrupts him once more. "How far is the drive? You're not always the best driver."

"Ouch" Harry has his hand over his heart, feigning as if her words had pierced him. "Guess I won't tell you."

"That's fine."

"Yeah. Is it?"

"Yup."

"Why's that?" He's confused; she's usually begging to know by now.

"Simple, because I just won't give you any kisses."

"That's cruel."

"Oh well. I don't play fair."

"Think you can resist me, sweetheart?"

"Oh, I know I can."

Harry shakes his head, response ready, but she stops him. "Remember who asked who out five different times."

"That's because you were playing hard to get. Claiming you just wanted to be friends for a little longer."

"That was tru-" It's his turn to stop her.

"Ah, yes, I know. I was getting impatient. Don't know if you know this or not, darling, but I had to scare off a lot of boys.

"Trust me, H. I knew"

"You did?"

"Yes, I think it was because everyone knew sooner or later I was going to put you out of your misery."

"Yeah, by saying yes."

"Oh no, I was going to say no."

"What changed?" Clearly, something had, and he just had to know.

"You decided to show up at school wearing your Sunday best and brought me sunflowers. Told me they reminded you how much light I brought into your life. There I decided yes, he'll make a fine boyfriend."

Harry's smile is big, dimples on display just for her. Always for her. "You tease too much."

"But you love it."

"I do." He leans in and smiles as she lets him lead the kiss. It's slow and full of love. A love that only continues to grow each moment they are together. "I really do."

Y/N leans in, wanting to give him more kisses, wanting to be connected to him, wanting him to always feel her love. She's not sure how much time has passed when Harry pulls away.

"You do realize we got sidetracked."

"Yes, worth it if you ask me." She looks pleased. "Now you have to tell me, I gave you kisses."

Harry runs his thumb over her bottom lip, asking for another. She puckers her lips leaning forward, and connects their lips in a short soft kiss.

"Friday night, the Forum."

Y/N's eyes go wide; she was not expecting to hear that.

"No."

"Yes."

She sits there taking it in.

"Say it, baby." Harry likes that he managed to surprise her.

"You got us tickets for Elton John." She whispers out, her eyes now locked with his needing him to confirm it.

"Yes, I did."

"A sold-out show."

"Think it's going to be a fun night."

"How?" Although Y/N has an idea.

"Well, I called in on a favor with our dear friend Sarah and the radio station she's interning at."

"I love her." She breathes out.

"Hey," Harry knocks her out of her gaze. "And me."

"Of course, I love you." She moves forward, seating herself in his lap. "I love you. I can't believe you did this for me."

"Yes, can't let you go off to uni without experiencing a concert."

"You are perfect, Styles."

"Perfect for you."

There's so much love in between them; if anyone walked into the room, they'd be able to feel it.

"Wait." Her hands now resting on his chest, a frown taking over her face. "How are we going to convince my parents."

"Already done. Told them the plan and the itinerary, and your parents have agreed."

"Perfect, I'm telling."

"Is this why we're walking to school tomorrow?" She remembers him telling her he won't have his car.

"Yes, taking it to the mechanic. I just want to make sure all is okay."

"Marry me?"

Harry can feel his cheeks warming up; she always makes him blush. He takes hold of her left hand and brings it up to his lips, leaving a gentle kiss on her ring finger.

"All in good time, my love."

_____

The week had dragged on, but it was finally Friday. She had been excited all week, and everyone could tell. Told her how she was jumpier, a lot more smiley, and twice as affectionate with Harry. She was happy.

She's at home getting ready; they would be leaving soon. Seeing as it was still a bit of a drive and no doubt would get stuck in traffic, seeing as they aren't the only ones attending the show.

Y/N had gone over outfit after outfit until she finally decided on what she is wearing now. She's wearing a deep red power shoulder tucked into her favorite high-waist denim that makes her waist and butt look extra good.

As she walks down the stairs, she hears the door and knows Harry is here to take her away. No matter what, he always stepped up to the door to pick her up; it still made the butterflies in her stomach go crazy.

Her father is at the door speaking with Harry going over her extended rules and what numbers to call for an emergency.

"Well, aren't you a dream," Harry looks her up and down; she does a slow spin for him on the heel of her black boots to give him the full look. "I'm a lucky man."

"Glad you know it, H."

She grabs hold of his brown leather jacket and runs her finger down it, it's an old one, but he takes such good care of it; one would think he just got it today.

"Think you just took my breath away, H." She swears there are hearts in her eyes as she takes him in.

"That's exactly what I was going for."

Harry and Y/N bid her parents goodbye; they wish them a safe journey. Her mother was excited to send her off; her father was a bit more worried but trusted Harry to keep her safe.

The drive to the arena is filled with conversation over the upcoming year, Harry's final football season, and her volunteering hours how she was hoping to be accepted into the NICU's internship at their hospital. Also, lots of singing on the radio as well as Harry's CDs. From ABBA to Shania Twain, he had, but they settled on Elton John for the ride.

In what feels like no time, they had arrived. Y/N is amazed at how big it is; she doesn't know much about the place just from what Sarah told her that it was large and no matter where she sat, she was going to have the best time of her life. Already having Harry at her side, she had no doubt about it. She can't stop smiling, and neither can Harry.

Harry grabs her hand as they both stare at the arena, where hundreds of people are lining up to enter.

"Ready, love."

"Yes, gosh. I might throw up from the excitement."

"Oh no, let's get you a pop. It'll help."

"That sounds nice." Y/N leans up and gives him a gentle kiss. "Thank you, H."

"Angel, I am more than happy to do this for you."

Hand in hand, they walked into the arena, ready to sing their hearts out together.

_____

Two hours of singing and dancing her heart off, and yet it still wasn't enough to tire Y/N out. Harry was sure she'd be clinging to his arm as he pulled her out of the arena, but she had asked him to wait out the crowd, and they stood in the emptying arena, arms around each other. He could feel her heart beating against his chest, and it was still pumping hard. He kissed her lips one final time before swinging his arm over her shoulder and guiding them out to the chilly Los Angeles air.

Y/N was all smiles, and she thinks it has to do with the man whose curls have fallen flat from all the sweating they did inside the arena. Being in a room packed around thousands of people will do that. She has never been in such a happy and united environment.

It's a memory she's going to cherish forever.

The drive home is full of retelling of their favorite parts of the night. Harry decided his was when Y/N turned to kiss him during "Your Song." He felt himself fall in love with her all over again. It's a feeling he never wants to end.

Y/N's had to have been each outfit change. There were so many that she lost track, but she loved how unique each outfit was. It's something she knew she could never pull off, but she admired the beauty of each one. It was over the top and full of colors; it kept her mesmerized. It reminded her of life and how filled with color it really is. Also, when Harry sang his heart out during "Tiny Dancer." How he knew every lyric and didn't miss a beat, if she's honest, she didn't bother looking at the stage for the entire song too entranced in Harry.

The smile does not leave their face, not during the traffic of getting on the freeway, not when they stopped by McDonald's and got burgers and decided to share a coke, and not even when they saw the sign welcoming back into Aurora.

Y/N's smile didn't drop until Harry parked his car right in front of her house. She sits back against the seat and turns her head to already find a bashful Harry smiling at her.

"Come here." He whispers.

She unbuckles and sits in his lap, it may have been a few hours, but she missed being this close to him.

Y/N didn't wait for Harry to ask; she simply leaned in and connected his strawberry lips with hers. She loved how soft they always were, and she knew she'd keep letting him steal her lip balms if they did such an excellent job keeping them soft and tasting sweet; then again, that could be all Harry. She lets out a small moan when Harry swipes his tongue on her bottom lip, asking for entrance, and she happily grants it.

She wishes she can stay here forever, in his arms, kissing his lips, never having to stop.

"Baby," Harry breathes against her lips.

Y/N knows what he's going to say; she's not ready to say goodnight. Instead, she keeps kissing him. "Just a little longer." She mutters against his lips.

Harry can't bring himself to pull away again and nods, allowing her to take control. He has a tight grip on her thigh, he wishes to move it higher, but he knows if he does, she won't be going inside tonight. She moves her lips down his jaw pressing gentle kisses.

"You drive me crazy."

"Feelings mutual, darling."

Harry pulls her back up and kisses her plush mouth. She tastes sweet, something he never pinpoints; all he knows is that it's intoxicating. He presses one final kiss on her lips and pulls back. She's breathing heavy, a large grin on her face. He knows he looks just as dazed.

"Think you got to get inside now."

"Don't want to leave you." She grabs a fist of his jacket, pulling herself closer.

"I'll be here tomorrow afternoon."

She pouts. "Why so late?"

"Because you're going to want to sleep in." He brushes a bit of her hair away, she leans into his touch; she loves how delicate each touch is.

"What if you come early and then cuddle me? Mom won't turn you away."

"She might."

"Not after I walk in and tell her how amazing the night was." She cups his cheeks, rubbing her thumb affectionately on his smooth skin. "She's got a sweet spot for you."

"And you." He reminds her.

"Well, of course. I'm her daughter." She laughs but knows she hasn't convinced him. "Please," she whispers. She flashes him her best puppy dog look, knowing he won't be able to resist.

"Fine. I'll be here at eight, darling."

"Perfect." She gloats.

"Let me walk you up."

Harry helps her back into the passenger seat so they can both head out. He grabs her hand, pulling her in close, not wanting her far for the last moments he has her.

"You want to know something, H." She whispers, keys in her hand.

"What is it, angel?"

"I want to travel the world with you."

"The world." He gasps. "It's a big place, baby. Where would we start?"

"London got to see the place you grew up before moving here. Of, course we'll save up and just spend the year traveling wherever life takes us."

"That sounds perfect."

She hums, deep in thought, picturing visiting all these places she's only dreamed of with him by her side. To see the Eiffel tower, walk the streets of Scotland, and swim in the Amalfi Coast waters.

"Dove," He hums, playing with a loose string of her jeans. "Where would you like to go?"

"Anywhere you want. I'll make sure to take you wherever you want to go."

"Take me to the stars, dovie."

"As you wish, my sweet angel."

Harry brings his right hand up to her face and gently cups her cheek; she sighs, knowing precisely what he's going to do. She tilts her head up and feels his lips against her. It's the softest kiss of the night; it's gentle. It's her favorite kiss, the goodnight kiss, a promise to see her tomorrow.

She breaks away the first time tonight, knowing if he kept going a moment longer, she wouldn't let him go. "Goodnight, H," She whispers as she begins to open the door.

"Goodnight, love."

Harry turns and walks to his car as he hears the door shut and hears her turn the lock. Once in his car, he takes a look up at her window, sends a final smile as he sees her waving him off.

He feels so much joy always being around her, but tonight it seems to have multiplied by a hundred. He knew tonight was perfect, but his favorite part wasn't even at the concert; it was standing outside her door as they spoke of their future together.

Happiness isn't always about the big moments but also about these small moments that make them feel invincible.

JUNE 1998

Y/N grabs a book from her bookshelf, not bother glancing at which one knowing if she stopped to read each title, she would be there all day. She heads to the yard, a picnic blanket tucked under her arm, so she can lay on it and soak in a bit of the sun.

Her mother is trimming the leaves of the roses, wanting the flower to pop out more. Her father usually helps her, but he's finishing up last-minute work before coming out to join them. He has a good view of them from his office window. When she was young, he told her he chose this room because it's where her mom spends all her time, and he likes having his eye on her as she joins the beauty of her flowers. Y/N's known love all her life, and she's happy her parents have each other, but she can't help but feel like she let that one-of-a-kind love go years ago and fears she'll never find it again.

As she settles down on her blanket, she decides to rid herself of all thoughts and instead get lost in the words of Stephen King. She picked up a psychological horror. She remembers her father mentioning it was a good read and that she'd enjoyed it. Two pages in, and she knows she's hooked; it looks like she will be laying out here all day.

At least that's what she thought when her mother interrupted her.

"When are you meeting everyone?"

Y/N puts the book down on her chest and looks over at her mom, who's still got her eyes on her roses. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"When are you meeting everyone?" Her mother repeats herself.

"Tomorrow."

"Time, darling?"

"At one."

She hums in response. "I leave you in charge, and please be watchful over my roses."

"Of course, I would never think of damaging your roses. Well, my roses, really." Y/N corrects.

"Just because they were planted in your honor does not mean they are yours. You've cared for them for such little time."

"Excuse me, mother. I went off to university, but once I'm done and ready to settle down, I will be doing all the caring."

"Yes, because you will have time as a doctor." Her mother responds sarcastically.

"I will be able to."

Her mother decided to move on, knowing how stubborn Y/N can be. "Your father and I have lunch and dinner plans out of town, so you'll have the house to yourself for most of the day and night."

"You're treating me like I'm sixteen again, and it's my first time having friends over."

Her mom laughs, and Y/N can't help but join. "You're forever, my little girl."

"Cheesy." Y/N teases.

Y/N leans back and gets comfortable, all thoughts of tomorrow pushed away and instead gets lost in the town of Bridgton, Maine.

_____

It's time; everyone is making their way over. She can feel her palms begin to sweat, thankful there's a nice breeze outside to keep her cool. Y/N and her mom cooked pasta with grilled chicken and strawberry lemonade wanting to be ready for after the digging. Y/N would feel bad making them dig a hole, open a box, then head on out. These people are her friends, and she wishes to spend time with them, and what better than with food.

She's got ten minutes before everyone is due to arrive when she hears a car pull up and turn off right in front of her house. Y/N knows of only one person who shows up early.

Harry.

Y/N thought he would be the last to arrive, but she's guessing old habits die hard. She takes a deep breath before opening the front door and walking out.

Harry would be lying if he wasn't nervous. He's about to see Y/N for the first time after years. He's seen her in photos; he knows she only continued to become more beautiful as the years passed. It's not the same as, no, because he knows what's separating them is a walk up to the door.

He feels precisely as he did the moment he asked her out and, if he's truthful, how she made him feel their entire relationship. Harry's 26, but his heart feels 18, and at that age, he was deeply in love with the woman inside that house. He loves her just the same.

Harry takes a long deep breath before slowly letting it out. He could do this; he got out of his car and made his way up the path, where she was already standing waiting for him. It felt like no time had passed as if he was coming over to take her on a date--except they weren't even close enough to say they were friends.

"Harry," She breathes out as he reaches the first step.

"Hi" He sends her a small smile. "You look great."

Y/N feels her cheek flush, and knows he can notice now that he's right in front of her. She takes in her outfit; it's simple, just a cropped red long-sleeved tee and black pants, with an old pair of black sneakers.

"Thank you, Harry. As do you." And he really does. He's wearing loose green denim joggers with a matching jacket. He has left it open, showing a brown button-up, a silver cross necklace peeking out from the space he left unbuttoned. "Always on time still."

"Better early than late."

She nods, not sure if she should continue the conversation or not. Are they going to stand out here in silence? It was never this hard; she hates this. Y/N rather keep talking than let themselves stand there in silence for another eight minutes.

She clears her throat. "How'd med school go? Have you decided on a residency yet? Anne told me you were weighing your options."

Harry doesn't try to hide his shock. "You spoke to my mum?" He asks in disbelief.

Y/N grins as much as his English accent is fading; it always comes back when saying 'mum,' or well, when he's nervous.

She nods. "I visit her when I visit my family. Recently passed when I came to see my mother who was feeling down and lonely as she put it even though she has dad to keep her company."

Harry smiles, knowing what weekend she was talking about because he had come the week after, and Lorelai had told him she was no longer as lonely. He thought it might have been because of his company, but it was because her daughter was home for a weekend.

When he's about to tell her where he decided, she waits patiently, staring up at him, a shy smile on her face but stops when Sydney comes and tackles Y/N in a hug.

"Of course, Styles got first dibs on you." Sydney fakes her exasperation.

"He knows how to be punctual." Y/N teases. "Looks like you bring the others as always." She signals seeing two more cars park; they park in the empty driveway.

"Just like old times," Zac screams out two bottles of wines in his hands. Mitch and Sarah walk up behind him, agreeing.

Y/N looks around, and it's almost like old times. Just one small difference that makes her heartache.

Everyone greets each other, sharing long hugs, and it's not long after that she invites everyone in and into the backyard.

"Mom says if we mess up her roses, we are dead meat," Y/N informs them all as they all stand in a semi-circle under the spot they buried their time capsule.

Mitch steps and pats Harry on the back. "If anything does happen, just say it was Harold. Lorelai has a soft spot for him."

Sarah approaches water in her hand. "Y/N is her golden child who does no wrong, easy to forgive."

Y/N laughs. "Enough. No roses will be damaged. Are we clear?"

She gets a chorus of "yes."

"Great, there are clear instructions that only Zac and Harry are allowed to shovel. Sorry, Mitch, mom said we've got to take care of your musical hands."

Mitch nods in appreciation.

"What about the doctor? No care for him." Harry mutters a small smile on his face.

"Quiet Styles, you're a favorite still," Zac tells him, pushing a shovel into his chest.

Y/N's happy watching the banter; it's like she's sixteen again, and they are trying to see who could dig their side of the hole faster.

SEPTEMBER 1988 - TIME CAPSULE

"High school friendships aren't known to last," Zac speaks out randomly, breaking everyone out of their conversations.

Harry sighs, "You're a downer."

"I'm a realist."

Y/N takes this in; she hasn't thought years down the line. She just assumed they would always be in her life. She can't see herself without them.

"What if we aren't friends ten years down the road?" Y/N voices.

Harry instantly picks up the concern in her voice. "I promise I won't let that happen, lovie." He assures her.

"H, I know."

"It's not uncommon for others to drift, especially when everyone has a different path after high school." Sydney comments. "My sister went through it."

"Let's write a letter, and we can bury it, open it ten years, but we have to do it together," Sarah suggests.

"Not a bad idea." Everyone nods in agreement.

"Let's do a letter and something important to us." Y/N proposes already having an idea of what to put.

"It's settled. We're burying a time capsule." Harry states.

"One problem."

"What now, Zac?" Sarah groans.

"Where do we bury it?"

Slowly everyone turns their gaze on to Y/N.

"Your house," Sydney tells her.

"You all agree?" Y/n is surprised.

"Your mom will never leave her house. It's gorgeous."

"Also," Zac chimes in, "You love it and tell us how it's going to be yours one day."

Y/N sighs and nods. "I will ask and will let you know."

_____

It took a lot to convince her mother, but her father liked the idea and supported her. Two against one, Y/N knew her mom was in a losing fight. After lots of hugs and kisses and promises of doing the dishes for two weeks straight, she got permission.

They had decided on a Saturday, wanting to do it early in the morning, unsure how long they would take digging the hole. Her mom designated an area for them to open.

Her mom allowed her to have the house to themselves, trusting them not to do anything but dig a hole. Y/N had everyone promise they would be on their best behavior.

Harry and Zac volunteered to dig, and no one argued. It took over an hour for them to get a decent-sized hole. It looked tiring, but Y/N enjoyed watching Harry's muscle flex as he threw out dirt. Finally, being satisfied with the hole size, mainly Sydney, made them go longer; it was time to place their items inside.

Y/N rewrote her letter a few times, never knowing the right thing to say. It wasn't until she was lying on the floor of her room with Harry's head in her lap did she know what she wanted to tell her future self.

Mitch went first, putting in his first-ever guitar pic, Sarah her Walkman, Harry followed with a copy of Romeo and Juliet, Y/N a chained rose ring, she put it in but not before giving it a small kiss knowing she'd miss it. Zac decided on his baseball mitt, and Sydney threw in a signed polaroid of herself, knowing it'd be worth a lot more once she became famous for her art.

Harry locked it shut with the final object in the box and lowered it down with Mitch's help. It fit well, and they sat around as it began to fill with dirt.

"Ten years, we'll come back and open it up."

"Yeah, but like summertime. I'm sure we'll have more time during the summer than other months." Zac might be right for once.

"June 1998," Sarah suggests.

Everyone thinks about it for a second, it feels so far away, a lifetime, really, but yes, they all agree.

Ten years' time, they will all be digging it up and will relive these moments.

JUNE 1998

Harry removes his jacket half an hour in, and there is nothing to complain about. He tosses it close to her side, and Y/N knows if things were different, he would have gently thrown it at her, and without a second thought, she would have put it on. She missed the times when he loved her. Because as much as she can't admit it out loud, she still loves him.

Now she'll fake conversation with Sydney when her real focus is on Harry and how his muscles seem to grow every time he scoops some dirt out and adds to the pile. He's grown buff over the years, he was always tall and firm in high school due to football, but now he's more defined. The most significant change was in his face, more stern. Not as smiley; it might just be due to being around her. He must hate being in her presence after she broke his heart.

Y/N lets herself get lost in thought when Zac cheers. She looks down, and peeking out in the corner is brown wood.

"We've hit gold."

In the next five minutes, Zac and Harry dig as much of the sides as they can, and soon enough, they are lifting it out before settling it down with a big "thump."

Y/N can't stop eyeing it; it's got dirt in every spot that meets her eye, but she knows what's waiting for her inside of that box, and she can't wait to have it with her once more.

"Who's going to do the honors?" Mitch asks the bolt cutters in his hand, ready to hand them over.

Everyone looks around at each other; no one says a thing until Harry steps forward and reaches to take them from his hand. Mitch hands them to Harry, no question asked. Harry heads straight to Y/N; he stretches his arm out, waiting for her to accept the cutters.

"Think it's only fair Y/N does the honors, seeing as we made her do a lot of groveling to Lorelai ten or so years ago just for us to bury this; not that she let any of us know." Harry smiles, urging her to take it. Y/N fingers brush his rather quickly, but in that small second, she felt her heart rate pick up and fears he might hear it, although that is almost impossible.

"Thank you." He nods, urging her forward.

"Take your time, doll." Zac says sarcastically."

Y/N is too busy getting down on her knees in front to see the glare Harry sent Zac's way. Everyone else catches the look; believe it or not, they all hope this is the moment that brings these two once lovers back again.

"Here goes nothing."

Y/N places the bolt cutters between the lock and counts down to three; it breaks right off the first try.

"You've got some strength!" Sydney exclaims; she was expecting it to take much longer.

Y/N lets the lock fall before reaching up and pulling the single latch. She scans everyone circling around her before opening the crate hating the creaking sound it releases.

There on top are their most prized items from when they were sixteen.

Sydney reaches in first, pulling out a polaroid and pink envelope. She flips it over and lets out the biggest laugh. Sydney turns the photo around, letting everyone see her in the photo wearing her then boyfriend's varsity jacket. It has her signature on the page. "I swore I was going to be famous for my art and would sell this for thousands."

"One day." Harry offers.

Sydney shrugs. "My boyfriend will appreciate this the most if I'm honest."

"He's that crazy for you?" Sarah asks.

Sydney nods, a shy smile on her face. "Yeah, I'm fortunate." She laughs, letting the moment pass. "Enough, Zac, please, you're next."

Zac, for the first time the whole evening, has fallen silent, almost looks nervous to reach inside. He takes a deep breath to go to the corner of the box and pull out a beat-up baseball mitt. Y/N can see his eyes well up with tears. He chuckles, "I swore I was going to go pro, but that senior injury year changed everything. In a way, Zac felt free; he got to pursue a career in travel journalism. "Enough sap, I volunteer, Harry."

Harry nods, moving forward, sitting next to Y/N thighs touching; she feels her breath hitch; she doesn't dare move. He reaches in for the only book it's resting on the bottom, a white envelope with a scribbled 'H' on top. He sets the envelope aside but keeps the book in hand.

Harry smiles at the book in hand, Romeo and Juliet. It was not his favorite by any means, but it held a special place in his heart because it was the first book Y/N read to him when they first started dating. He remembers telling her he hated how she ignored him for words on paper, so he proposed she read to him aloud, and that way, they could bond. Y/N was thrilled at the idea; the first book was Shakespeare because it was a reading assignment, and she wanted it done that weekend.

Harry hated the ending; he remembers ranting to Y/N as she ran her fingers through his hair to calm him down. He didn't understand why Shakespeare made these two people who were star-crossed lovers fall in love in a week only to have them die.

Safe to say, it took a while to let Y/N read another one of Shakespeare's works.

Y/N's eyes were on the book, and she watched as Harry carefully opened it to the first page, moving it back so that only they could read what was written on the cover page.

It read: I've loved you for six months. I'll love you for six more. And maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get to love you for life. Love, Y/N xxx

Y/N felt tears behind her eyes; she had to look away. She was so naïve at the age, but oh how she loved him, and she knew he loved her just the same. Y/N was so grateful to know she was loved, even if it was years ago.

She doesn't want to go next; instead, Sarah reaches in to save her. Sarah pulls out her folded half of paper and her blue Walkman player. "Oh my goodness, this is going to have some golden tunes."

Mitch chuckles, "You suffered without it. Think was the first time I ever heard you complain about something."

Sarah sends him a playful glare. "Shut it! Why don't you go next, Mr. Sentimental."

Mitch is one to never say no to Sarah, so he shrugs and makes his way forward. Patting Harry on the shoulder causing Harry to shift closer to Y/N. Both Harry and Y/N don't say anything but don't bother to move away either.

Sarah smiled as she watches Mitch pick up a guitar pick. It was the first one he received from his father. "Dad always said I had a guitar in hand."

"Mitch, you've voiced your thoughts out loud." Harry jokes.

"Funny Styles." That's the last of what Mitch says as he moves back to read his letter, and Sarah follows close behind.

Y/N feels everyone staring, but really it's only just Harry. Everyone focused on their own letters but also waiting for a reaction. She slowly reaches in, first pulling out the pink envelope with her initial on the front; Harry wrote it for her, saying she needed a way to identify it years later.

She sets it in her lap before reaching in and getting the item she's been thinking about all day.

A silver rose ring.

It was a gift from Harry; Y/N always spoke of roses and how much her mother loved them. Leading to Harry finding out she loved them just as much. He wore this ring for a long time; he found it in a store in London before they made the move here permanently. It's his last real piece of home, but Aurora had become home, and so had Y/N. It felt right to give to her. She cried, receiving it, and knew it wouldn't fit but told him not to get it resized. She surprised him by wearing it around her neck; she put it on a chain she had. There wasn't a day she wasn't seen without it.

She holds it tightly in her hand as if Harry might rip it out of her hand, wanting it back, but it's hers, and it's special. Y/N never wants to forget her memories with Harry, no matter how much it hurts, thinking back on them.

"I've missed it." She whispers.

Y/N slips it over her head, letting it rest outside her shirt for all to see. She missed the look on Harry's face, but this might be the motivation he needs to speak with her. To talk about where they are now in life.

Except Y/N stands up, brushing the dirt that was on her pants to head somewhere more private to read her letter she wrote to herself. She walks a few feet away and flips open the pink tab, pulls out a folded paper. Her eyes immediately go to the bottom of the page, wherein black ink, it says, "I love Harry (PS: he made you write that, but it doesn't make it any less true."

Everything surrounded him; her love for him was just that large. She reads over her letter taking in the words of how her sixteen-year-old self said she was proud of her and that no matter what happens, it was all for a reason.

It's exactly what she needed to hear.

Harry is watching Y/N stand there read her letter, and he feels the gaze of everyone else to go approach her. Years ago, he wouldn't have thought twice about it, he would have been at her side holding her hand or rubbing her back, but now he doesn't even know if they are even friends. Mitch nudges him, and he knows he should check on her, but she surprises everyone by turning around, a grin on her face.

"Mom and I cooked lunch, so let's wash up and eat. All this sure has built up my appetite."

"Don't have to tell me twice." Zac smiles, walking inside heading straight to the kitchen sink.

The others begin to follow Zac inside when Y/N stops hearing her name being called. It's Harry standing by the hole, shovel in hand.

"Should I cover it up?"

Y/N can't help the smile, Harry was always so eager to help, and she's glad his kind helping sport hasn't changed. "No, dad is going to cover it. Mom told him he needs to do more yard work. She called it bonding time."

"Okay, if you're sure."

"I am."

"Let's head in then."

As Harry is about to walk past her, she reaches her hand out, grabbing his bicep, surprising him. "Thank you."

He nods his head. "Of course."

Y/N sighs; there's so much left unsaid. Their breakup fresh on her mind seeing him walk away from her, bringing it all back. Oh, how she wishes things were different.

She doesn't regret leaving for New York, but she does wonder if there was a way to have made their relationship work; would it have survived or crashed and burned.

In a way, she's glad she never had to find out.

Y/N puts her brave face on; she's surrounded by friends who love her and who she hasn't spoken to for longer than half an hour. She's going to soak in this time and enjoy it.

There are other times to be sad.

MARCH 1990 - ACCEPTANCES

Y/N and Harry were both lost in thought as Harry drove them to their destination. There was a lot to think about

Harry was proud to get a full-ride football scholarship to UCLA and a partial for USC. They were close to home, and he got to play a sport he was good at. These universities were tough to get into, but he impressed the recruits. He didn't bother applying outside the state, knowing he couldn't be far from home. It felt wrong for him; he knew that wasn't the case for Y/N.

Y/N always spoke about leaving the state. She had dreamed about it from a young age especially seeing her brother do it. Gabriel's stories only make her more excited for her future. She loved to travel, no matter the distance.

Harry, of course, knew this; he just thought he could convince her to stay.

Applying to schools was hard for Y/N; there were many universities she wanted to apply to, but she feared rejection, so she set a limit of six. Still, a high number; she just needed options.

When acceptances came in, each application welcomed her. Two east coast universities offered full-ride scholarships, USC offered partial and others only half. She had the money for tuition, her parents saved for her, which she is forever thankful for but knowing she could move across the country like she always dreamed of was calling her name.

The one thing that stopped her was Harry.

Y/N had never known love until Harry, and she knows her leaving will jeopardize that. She also knows if she stays, she might not be happy, always stuck on the "what if?"

She was distraught as soon as she heard the news. Her mom saw her pace outside, then sit, pour herself tea then began the cycle again. Y/N dreamed of Columbia. It was her dream university, and to give that up, but also having to give up Harry, she couldn't pick; she didn't want to.

Harry parks the car; he drove them to an abandoned cliffside that's full of wildflowers. Y/N didn't rush out of the vehicle as she once would have wanted to feel the cold breeze. Now, she stares ahead, letting the car fill with silence—neither one wanting to be the one to begin the conversation that would change everything.

"Is this the end?" Y/N asks her voice, betraying her, as she feels her throat tighten up.

Harry doesn't answer; he reaches for her hand and holds it tight.

"It doesn't have to be. I don't want it to be." She's barely holding herself together. Y/N's staring at the side of his head, silently begging for him to meet her gaze.

"Life isn't always as easy as the last four years have been for us," Harry tells her, finally meeting her eyes.

"I love you. You know that, right."

"I know." He whispers.

Y/N shuts her eyes, repeats the words in her head she hasn't been able to voice out, knowing she's going to be breaking more than one heart right now.

"I can't stay, Harry." Y/N blinks her tears away, but they come right back, seeing Harry holding back tears. "As much as I want to, as much as I can't let you go. I also can't stay."

"Don't let me go then." He whispers. He reaches forward, cradling her cheek in his hand. It's the softest touch he's given her. It's as if he's trying to remember how she feels.

"It's not fair."

"I don't care." Y/N reaches forward to wipe the tear away that managed to escape.

"But I do."

"I don't care." He tries again, Harry can't let her go. She's his life, he's too young to know about forever, but he doesn't want to live a life without her. "I'll go with you."

Y/N lets her tears begin to fall at his words. "No." Her voice firm. "It's over if you leave."

Harry pulls back, hurt by her words but Y/N's just as upset.

She lets go of her hold on him and hurries out of the car. Harry yells her name, begging her to come back, but she's too busy crying to listen to him. Soon enough, she's surrounded by trees, and there are two trails to follow, but she can't pick; it is faith mocking her in the smallest of ways. Instead, she settles for sitting right in the center on a patch of grass.

Y/N sits hunched over, crying; that's how Harry finds her. He doesn't say a word. He sits next to her and pulls her into his lap.

"I'm sorry. So sorry, darling."

Harry begins to rock her back and forward, letting his tears all as he rests his chin on top of her head. Begins to whisper sweet nothings, just wanting her close. He hates that they are causing each other this hurt.

Y/N's cries have stopped; she sniffles from time to time. The holds she has on Harry is iron tight as if he'd vanish if she let go for even a second."

"Summer." She whispers, breaking the silence.

"What?" Harry is not sure what she can mean.

"We have Summer."

"Yeah, we do."

"We have to let each other go at the end of Summer." Her tone is final.

"Y/N-"

Y/N stops him, "Harry, I'm not letting you give up your dreams for me, and I know you won't let me do the same."

"I can't say goodbye," He confesses.

"Then we won't. We'll kiss goodnight and pretend like we'll see each other in the morning."

"That's heartbreaking, love." He chuckles bitterly.

"I love you, Harry Styles."

"And I love you, my angel."

Harry is done crying, instead leans in and kisses her like he should have done earlier as soon as he had parked the car. The kiss is fast, not soft like all the kisses he's used to giving her, no he wants her to remember this kiss. He wants her to feel everything he isn't saying.

I love you. You're mine. You're my best friend. I will love you forever. He wants her to feel it all.

"Show me you love me." Y/N pulls back breathless, lips plush begging to be kissed again. Harry knows what she's asking, and he's not one to deny her.

He stands up, confusing her, but he comes prepared. Harry walks for the blanket he dumped a few feet away from them, grabbing it and spreading it out. Y/N is quick to lay back on the soft blanket. It warms her instantly. She smiles, reaching her hand up as Harry leans over her, his bottom half straddling her waist, her hand intertwining in his soft curls. Y/N brings him down for a kiss needing his touch to be close.

Harry and Y/N are wrapped in their own world, lost in their kiss; it's always been them against the world, but soon they are going to venture off separately. It's something that neither of them wants to wrap their head around, and they won't not until they have to.

They will enjoy graduation together, hand in hand receiving diplomas. Y/N will deliver a beautiful valedictorian speech. The joint graduation party will be a joy and one they sneak away from to spend watching the moon reflect over the ocean. It's the one place they feel at peace, the sea being a favorite of both of theirs. The Summer will bring endless days out, travels up the coast of California even as far as making it to San Francisco for a trip. There is not a second where they don't spend time together, and their parents understand; it breaks their heart, but it's their future, and all they can do is support them. Their love will only grow this Summer which makes it more heartbreaking when they say goodbye in August.

But none of that matters because, for now, they have each other, and that is enough.

Harry pulls back, leaning his forehead against hers, their breaths mixing together.

"I love you."

"I love you so much; it's not going away just because--" Harry stops, not being able to voice the words out loud. He can't say it, or he'll start crying.

"I know, dove." She trails her finger up his chest until they right over his heart. Y/N can feel how fast it's beating; it beats for her. "Maybe a day will come where we can be together again, that's if you don't find someone else, which I understand if you do."

"It's not going to happen."

"You don't know that," She mutters.

"Hey, I love you. No one is going to love me like you do. I'd be a fool to love someone else." Y/N settles her chin on his chest. She's staring into his eyes, trying to find a hint of a lie, but there is none. There's only love and sadness in his green orbs.

"I love you too."

Harry sighs; there's not much they can do to brighten the mood. "You know what we can do?"

"What?"

"Make a summer bucket list. First on my list is to kiss the prettiest girl I know every day." She laughs, making Harry break out in a big grin. "Lucky for you, that happens to be you." He tells her, booping her nose with his index finger.

Y/N laughs; it's only March. She has the rest of Spring and all of Summer to love Harry. To love him with every bone and cell in her body because that last day will come sooner than she likes.

_____

The end of Summer arrived, and she bid Harry goodnight with a kiss at the door like normal, like he was going to show up tomorrow bright and early for breakfast and kisses, but that wasn't the case. It was goodbye, even though neither of them could admit it.

Y/N and Harry walked away from each other; they didn't say no contact, but it was like they both silently agreed on it because there was no letters or calls to each other, no visits to each other's homes, no visiting each other parents, at least not in the beginning

The love was there, but life goes on.

JUNE 1998

After a delicious meal and second servings, everyone sits back stuffed. Everyone enjoyed a lovely home-cooked meal with entertaining conversation. Y/N enjoyed watching it happen, not participating much in conversation. She never was that interesting, she felt, always let her friends carry the conversation. She could feel Harry glance at her from time to time, but Y/N still hasn't recovered, knowing that Harry's most prized possession at sixteen was a book she wrote a note in.

Y/N wonders if he's regretting that now.

"Have we overstayed our welcome?" Zac asks, taking Y/N's silence as something terrible.

She laughs, shaking her head. "You're fine. I like listening, fascinating conversations going on."

"Come on, share something with us." Zac urges her.

"Uhh… med school has been going well. Have all of the Summer off, might do some sightseeing before going home."

"Yeah, driving home to Massachusetts instead of taking a plane like a normal person." Sydney winces at the thought, not at all wanting to think about the pit stops she had to make.

"Maybe not the smartest idea, but I encountered zero troubles; my baby, Twila, runs smoothly."

"Should get her checked out again before leaving." Harry comments.

Y/N nods. "Dad's been on my ass about that as well, but I've got no rush, especially since all I ever do here is walk around town."

"Enough car talk, let's talk about the time Zac got his clothes stolen after gym class sophomore year." Sarah sets them off on a never-ending conversation of memories.

As soon as one story is finished, a new one is being shared. Y/N forgot most of these, but as her friends tell them, she feels each memory unlock and surfacing. The conversation goes on forever, with no end in sight because that's how friendship is; it's never-ending. Especially when all they did for four years was hanging out together, creating these memories they now are so fond of.

It's around seven o'clock, the sun begins to set when everyone decides to head home. She walks them out, giving them hugs and promises of seeing each other again before everyone leaves town. Y/N notices Harry lingering by, but she doesn't say anything.

Y/N waves goodbye to Sarah and Mitch when Harry comes to stand by her. She waits for him to say goodbye, not going to rush him, which is why what he says next surprised her.

"Do you want help cleaning up?"

Harry looks shy, asking, and Y/N knows he's about to take it back, so she nods. "That'd be great."

She walks back in, and Harry follows close behind, making sure to lock the door, just in case. "I'll rinse, and you put it in the dishwasher. Okay?"

"Okay, yes."

They begin to work in silence, the only sound of the running water. Y/N wonders if he's going to stay longer or if he's going to leave right after.

God, she could really go for a glass of wine.

As Y/N hands him the last plate, she dries her hand with the red dish towel before handing a white one over to Harry, who thanks her quietly.

She leans back against the counter, debating asking him to stay for a drink or not. Harry catches her staring and smiles, unleashing the dimples. It seems he made the decision for her.

"Do you want a glass of wine?" Y/N turns around, reaching up for a glass for herself, not wanting to face him just in case he rejects her.

"Wine sounds great."

Y/N grabs two stemmed wine glasses and opens the bottle of red wine rather quickly; she's surprised her hands aren't shaking because she's so nervous. She fills both glasses halfway before stepping forward to hand Harry his cup.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

Harry takes a sip, humming at the taste. Y/N isn't sure where Zac got the bottle. She's just happy it tastes good.

"Do you want to sit outside, watch the sunset on the steps?"

Harry agrees and steps out, holding the door open for her. She sits down, leaving room for Harry. He leaves a small space in between them.

"I love sunsets, never the same."

"Same as sunrises."

"I'm not a morning person as I once was, a bit of a night owl." She shares.

"Oh really, why is that?"

"I'm not sure." Y/N knows that's a lie; what she wanted to say is because she has no one to wake up to. No one to give morning kisses or morning cuddles.

"You must still love mornings."

"I do." He chuckles. "I do three-mile runs each morning."

"Three!" She gasps. "I'd be tired the entire day; I prefer going on hikes or long walks."

"Used to it already."

"Pity, to your partner. Stealing cuddles from them." She mutters, taking a sip of her wine, hoping he didn't hear.

Harry wants to respond, not sure if she was asking or stating. Oh, how he wishes he could know what she was thinking.

"Didn't know you were interested in medicine, Harry."

"I wasn't, not until my injury." He rubs his shoulder as if he remembered the pain. "After finding out, I was done for; I just needed something entirely different. My physical therapist spoke about his journey to entering the field. He told me to enter something that captured my attention and something I would never get tired of learning about. It led me to psychiatry. My professors were great guidance."

"John Hopkins, right?"

"Yes, the very one."

"Tough school."

He laughs out loud, hand on his belly. "You're telling me, miss dean's list each semester. Graduating with highest honors from Harvard."

"You know me, my head always stuck in a book."

"Still don't take compliments."

"Makes me feel weird. I love what I do; I can't wait to start and just learn it all. This sponge I call my brain is ready to absorb it all."

"I'm sure you're going to do amazing."

"Thank you, Harry. That means a lot." She pats his knee before quickly retracting her hand back into her lap.

"Where is your residency?" Harry looks at her, a frown on his face. "Don't think I asked you."

"Well, Harvard medical was a dream, and I wasn't ready to say goodbye, so I accepted Massachusetts General. I really love the environment they have in the hospital." She sets her wine glass down, turning her body to look at Harry. She misses the look of shock on his face. "Everyone is so kind--"

"Y/N," He tries, but she continues on.

"I went for a tour, and it was busy and crowded, but they were so kind with the children. When I entered the pediatrics ward, I just knew it's where I had to be."

"Y/N,"

"I already know who I'm going to be working under, and she's--"

"Love," Harry tries his gaze on her face hoping to get a reaction.

That shuts Y/N right up; it has been a long time since she last heard that term of endearment.

Her eyes are on Harry; he has her full attention. He can tell she's a bit stunned, but his news is life-changing. "I have my residency at Massachusetts General."

"You what?" She was not expecting that news. Harry is in the same hospital as her. "Are you saying?"

"We would have run into each other if we hadn't come home for the time capsule, yes." He answers for her.

"Fate," she whispers.

Harry nods, eyes shining with tears. That one word was enough for Harry to know she might feel the same.

He sees Y/N's eyes flicker to his lips, going back to his eyes, then leans in. He does the same, wanting to feel her close more than ever.

"Y/N, you left the-" Harry and Y/N spring apart, the moment gone started by her mother. "Oh, hello, Harry."

Harry clears his throat, standing up to offer the woman who startled him a hug. "Hello Lorelai, wonderful to see you."

"How's your mother?"

"She's well. Left yesterday to visit my nephews for the weekend."

"That's nice."

The three now stand outside together, Y/N rocking back and forth on her heels, not able to standstill.

"Truly wasn't expecting to see you," Lorelai tells him.

"We were catching up" Harry smiles at Y/N. "We were keeping each other company."

"Very kind."

"I should get going; it's late." Feeling as if he overstayed his welcome.

Lorelai senses the tension a second too late as Harry is saying his goodbyes. "Well, please do stop by before you leave town."

"Of course."

"I'll walk you out." Y/N smiles at her mother as she leads Harry out through the side gate, personally wanting to avoid a run-in with her father.

Y/N, true to her word, walks him to his car; he is about to round his car, heading to the driver's seat but stops.

"Y/N?" His voice was shaky.

"Yes, Harry."

"Let's have dinner together." He rushes out in one go.

"Harry…" She pauses, "I--"

He interrupts her. "Don't tell me you have a--" he trails off, not wanting to say the word.

"Course not." She replies quickly.

"But,"

Y/N takes a deep breath, taking a moment to get her thoughts together. "I won't do this unless this is it. This is the time I'm yours again. For good."

"You've always been mine." He steps forward, hand reaching out to cup her cheek. She lets out a sigh, feeling a sense of peace take over her body. "Eight years and no one compared. No one ever will."

"H." He can see the tears in her eyes.

"I mean it. I've always been in love with you. I will always be in love with you. It will always be you."

Y/N closes the gap between them; they are the closest they have been in eight years. She searches his face for any sign of doubt but finds none. Only sees love in his beautiful emerald eyes.

"I love you." She confesses feeling a weight leave her shoulders as the words leave her mouth for the first time in years. "I never stopped. I will never stop."

"Sweetest words I have ever heard. Words I want to hear forever." Harry's smile is one she had never seen before; it's wide, and she swears it reaches the sky. His eyes hold a shine they never have before.

There's one last thing she needs for this moment to be perfect.

"Please kiss me."

"With pleasure."

She's never dreamed of this moment in fear of it not happening, but it finally is, and Y/N swears she feels the stars aligned just for them. Harry's lips were getting closer, and she felt her heart skip a beat. She parted her lips and felt him washing over like a wave of warmth. She finally felt at home. Her whole body tingled, the feel of his frame leaning on jets as his arms wrapped around her tightly, afraid that she'd disappear. Y/N's fingers slowly moved up Harry's chest until they tangled with the back of his short curls. She tugged, needing more, feeling her legs buckle at the moan Harry let out.

All she felt was love, and she wanted to feel it forever. Y/N let Harry pull away; he didn't go far, letting his forehead rest on hers. Their breaths mix together. There's a bashful smile on Y/N's face, but this moment feels too good to be true.

Harry and Y/N stand there wrapped in each other's arms, lost in each other's gaze as if no one else existed and there was no risk of interruption.

"I'll be here at noon tomorrow, going to take you out if you'll let me."

"Yes, H. I accept." She kisses him softly two more times before unwrapping herself from him, putting a bit of distance between each other, or they very well would stand there all night kissing.

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." She confirms

Harry steals one last kiss, short and sweet, before getting in his car. He sends her a kiss that she pretends to catch and places it over her heart.

She knows he is blushing even though she can't see it.

As he drives away from her, all the hurt and pain of not having him washes away. Harry is hers, and she is his.

All is right.

Their paths finally crossed again, and this time there would be no final goodbye.

_____

Harry showed up the day after as promised. Y/N was eagerly waiting, she had felt time go slow when they had been apart, but it's a monumental day because once again, after so many years, Harry and Y/N are finally reunited.

She waited on the steps of her house like she used to when she was a teen waiting for him to pick her up and take her out on a date. It was bringing back the best memories. Harry parked right in front, and just as he was rounding his car to go meet her, she was in front of jumping in his car.

"Woah!" Harry was fast to react, only stumbling a little put holding her tight. "This is a nice welcome." He teases.

"Can you blame me? I missed you." She tells him, nuzzling her face in his neck.

"Missed you too, love. Eight years, I've missed you."

"Don't start, H. Don't want to cry. We're here now."

"You're right."

Y/N has Harry set her down; they stand there smiling at each other, taking each other in.

"Up for a drive?"

She nods. "Will you drive me to the moon?"

"Anywhere you want, angel."

Harry drives them to one place she hasn't visited because of the memory it holds. She's guessing it's because he wants to create new, better ones.

"It's still beautiful here." She looks out through the window, not wanting to leave the safety of the car. She wants to stay close to Harry.

Y/N sits in silence with Harry holding each other's hands, allowing each other to just enjoy this time together. The calmness of being loved and feeling loved. She knows there are lots to talk about, but she settles for the quietness for now.

She's not sure how much time has passed, but she's now facing Harry, and he's toying with the rose ring hanging on her neck.

"Y/N," he whispers; she lifts her gaze from his lilac nails and hums for him to go on. "I have to ask." She lets his words sit in their silence. She knows what he's asking, the same thing running through her mind.

"No." She frowns. "It felt wrong. I could never-- it was never you."

Harry can tell she feels sheepish confessing this.

She chuckles dryly. "I must sound lame; the last person I kissed was you eight years ago."

"No, it's not." He assures her.

She sighs, "Harry."

"It was the same for me. My friends tried to set me up multiple times, but it felt like cheating. No one understood."

"So you haven't…" She trails off.

"Well acquainted with my hand." He jokes.

She burst out laughing, and seconds later, Harry is as well. Their joyous laugh fills the car but also their hearts.

"I love you." She breathes out, trying to catch her breath.

"And I love you."

"Want to know a secret," she asks him.

He nods.

She turns her head to the window; she can see herself and Harry in the reflection. His eyes on her full of adoration.

"I wrote you letters, hundreds. I've lost count, really, but I've got a box full; they are locked up in mom's attic." Y/N turns, looking back at Harry; there's a soft look on his face. "I wanted to send them, but I couldn't. I didn't want to interfere."

"Darling, that's-" he chokes up, tears escaping him. "Can I read them?"

Y/N nods, "Of course, they were intended for you after all."

"Will you read them with me?"

"Sure, if that's what you want."

"Do you want to know something now?"

Y/N reaches forward and brushes a loose curl back. "Tell me."

"Each book I've read, I have written a dedication in it for you."

"What?" She says, surprised.

"The new bookshelf in mom's living room is filled with books." He waits for her to nod before continuing on. "All books for you."

"Harry," It's her turn to cry now, it seems.

"Thought about you just as much, angel."

"Do you think we did the right thing, letting each other go?"

"I do."

"Why?"

"It brought us together again. Sure it was the time capsule, but there is also Massachusetts." He reminds her.

"Isn't that wild?" She shakes her head in disbelief. "Same residency."

"It was fate, angel. Like you said last night."

"Yeah, guess fate had a plan, after all, dove."

Harry chokes up, tears welling up in his eyes. "What did you say?"

"Fate had a plan."

"After."

"Dove," she breathes out, not even noticing she slipped it in; it came out like second nature. "You're my dove, my kind man, the love of my life."

Harry grabs her face and connects his lips to hers. It's not soft; it's fast and hot but full of love. She leaned back, feeling the heat in her cheeks. Harry chases her lips, not finished yet. She lets him kiss her as he pressed soft pecks on her lips, liking the feel of her soft lips.

"Is it too soon to ask to marry you?" Harry asks, trailing kisses down her neck.

"No, never too soon." She giggles as he kisses a soft spot right under her jaw. "If I recall, I asked you one too many times during high school."

Harry chuckles, nodding. "Should have accepted sooner."

She looks at him, not being able to contain her laughter, knowing very well he should have.

"Marry me." He asks, all traces of laughter gone. He holds his breath, waiting for a response.

"Yes, of course, dove."

Harry seals it with a kiss. She accepted, and yes, it may seem rushed, but they aren't getting any younger. Their love was put on hold, and now because the time is right, they get to pick up as if no time passed at all.

They are different people, but Harry and Y/N have only become more perfect for one another.

2000 DECEMBER - MASSACHUSETTS

Her eyes snap open, and she quickly sits up, throwing the blanket off herself feeling hot and unfocused, startling Harry making him drop the Pop-Tart he was eating to fall on his chest.

She looks back at Harry, sitting up with crumbs covering his mouth and half-eaten brown sugar cinnamon sitting on top of his black sweats.

Y/N can't help but laugh at the sight in front of her, her nightmare now pushed aside.

"You're laughing." He pouts. "You gave me a proper scare."

She frowns, "I had a bad dream."

"Yeah, want to talk about it?"

She shakes her head no, instead asking him an important question. "Why are you eating Pop-Tarts in bed?" She picks up the broken half and takes a bite, appreciating the strong cinnamon flavor.

"I got hungry, but I didn't want to leave you alone, and honestly, I'd never willingly leave your cuddles."

"Did you bring me my own?" She mutters, swallowing the last piece of his.

"Why, of course, I'm no monster."

"What time are you going in today?" She asks as she opens up the package handing him half since she ate his. He happily accepts.

"Noon."

She glances at the alarm clock and sees it is only nine am. She mumbles an 'okay,' settling herself to lay her head on his chest.

"How are you spending your day off?" His hand running through her hair, always wanting to be touching her in some way.

"In bed."

Harry doesn't like that. "Still feeling sick." He states.

"Yes, but I'm fine."

"Okay, but we do work in a hospital." He playfully reminds her.

She lets out a deep sigh. "I'll have Annie check on me tomorrow."

"Thank you." He kisses her temple, definitely leaving crumbs of food behind.

"I love you, Harry."

"I love you too."

Y/N and Harry had come a long way from the Summer of 98'. They got back together and were excited to start the next chapter of their lives together. Their families were thrilled at the news of them getting back together and even happier when they learned about their shared residency location.

That Summer led them to where they are now; two years into their residency programs and one year into marriage.

Harry could not wait; he had wanted to take her to city hall for a quick signature but knew she deserved better. They were wed in the botanical garden under the beautiful flower arch she dreamed of. It was the wedding she always dreamed of; it was small and beautiful. Only their closest friends and family were in attendance. Their wedding photo; Harry gazing at her as if she put all the stars in the sky and Y/N smiling at the camera. It sits framed on Y/N's bedside. He decided it went there, so when he turns to look over at her, he sees all of her beauty laid out for him and the happiest day of his life.

Harry had fought her on changing her last name, wanting her to be called Doctor Y/LN because she worked for it and was a man who wanted his wife to shine and do all she set her mind to. Harry went as far as suggesting hyphenating but still no. She changed her last name to 'Styles.' Y/N told him she spent years dreaming about it in high school, even years later when he wasn't by her side. It's an honor to share his last name because one day, their future children would as well.

Y/N has a year left in her pediatrics residency, and Harry has two years to go. She has her fellowship to think about, which will add three more years; her focus on Critical Care Medicine. Harry has decided on Addiction Psychiatry which is only a year-long, but he's got his last two years to worry about first.

Life has been going well, they've had their fair share of arguments but nothing they can't fix. Harry can't say he doesn't love making up; it always leads to a good time.

They didn't know what life had in store for him but looking around at the photos they have hanging up, a picture of Mitch and Sarah's little boy Nathaniel who only gets bigger every time they see him. A photo of Sydney showing off her engagement ring, face full of tears but smile large; Zac off traveling the country smiling in his picture of him visiting the Grand Canyon part of his trip to visit each National Park and document his journey.

This group of six friends is living their dreams; at sixteen, none of them know what life would be like twelve years down the road, but if it wasn't for each of them having this friendship and deciding to bury a time capsule, they might not be where they are right not; happier and more in love than ever.

Harry and Y/N are filled with love and know life couldn't be better than it is; incredibly grateful to be in love and be loved back just the same.

Little do they know their love will soon have to be shared.

_____

Thank you so much for reading!

I love you and I hope you loved this story <3

#harry styles #timetravelathon #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #harry fluff #thank you for reading!

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 3 years

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Twelve Months - Good Omens fanfic

Happy 31st Anniversary of Good Omens! :D

To celebrate this momentous occasion, I have posted a slightly-sad, slightly-sweet Wake the Snake fic on AO3, because our demon has been napping for a whole Twelve Months, and sometimes Angel gets a little lonely!

Thank you all for another fantastic year in this fandom!

Twelve months.

Aziraphale pushed open the door to Crowley’s flat, a simple shopping bag tucked under his arm.

The lights were still off, the curtains drawn in the awful empty room he called a study. Nothing had changed.

He passed through the enormous, rotating section of wall and into the solarium. This was still bright—many of the plants flourishing despite being unattended so long, despite clearly not having enough water. A few had started flowering. They waved their branches at him as he entered, perking up eagerly.

The angel waved back, but first he peeked into Crowley’s bedroom.

He was still where Aziraphale had left him, on his last visit a month before. Bright red hair spilled across black pillows, grown into a stringy mop. Duvet pulled up to his messily-bearded chin. One hand curled up beside him on the bed.

Still asleep.

With a sigh, Aziraphale crossed over to the plants, who greeted him excitedly, unfurling their newest leaves, a few vines hanging down to brush his face.

“Hello, my lovelies. How are you all doing? Look at you, grown at least a foot since I saw you, I’m sure. And you! What beautiful pink buds. Very impressive.”

He didn’t think Crowley would approve of how he spoke to the plants, but the poor things had been so distraught on his first visit, straining to keep upright, trying to hide their yellowing leaves. So much healthier now, much happier for just a bit of attention. He picked up the watering can and gave them all a quick splash. He didn’t know how much water each needed, but it didn’t seem to matter.

“You keep it up, dears. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Picking up his shopping bag again, Aziraphale headed down the hall to the kitchen. The kettle sat on the island where he’d left it, and he quickly refilled it and set it to boil. While he waited, he pulled his latest creations from the bag: a small pumpkin spice cake from a recipe he’d been perfecting since fall, a lemon coconut cake, and a few apple cinnamon muffins.

Two plates—a muffin for each, a slice of the coconut cake for himself and the pumpkin spice for Crowley.[1] The rest went into the refrigerator, where they would never go bad or stale.

Aziraphale put the plates onto a tray, along with forks and napkins. Next he found two mugs and pulled the little tin of his second-favorite tea out of the bag just as the kettle boiled.

For himself, a teaspoon of the expertly blended leaves, steeped for exactly three minutes, resulting in a pale brown tea with a slightly spicy aroma. For Crowley, he dropped a tea bag into boiling water and let it sit until it was almost black.[2]

He carried the tray back to the solarium and selected a bright red-and-gold tulip that was nearly vibrating in its eagerness to be noticed. A moment to assure the other plants that they were still doing fabulously—particularly a self-conscious little succulent that had rather drooped over the winter but was making a fine recovery—and he once more headed into Crowley’s bedroom.

Crowley had rolled over, and now sprawled on his back, sleeping soundly. He’d apparently kicked a bit, too, as the blanket had slid down past his stomach. Aziraphale smiled as he set the tray on the chair he’d brought in some months ago and got to work.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, dear,” he started cheerfully, carefully rearranging the objects on the little bedside table. “I have a few things for you again, I hope you don’t mind.” Just enough space to slide the mug and the little plate. Perfect.

“I received a package from Tadfield again. Everyone wrote a note and then gathered them all together, really quite clever. They’re all doing well, if a bit bored.” The table was nearly overflowing with little items now, brought in by Aziraphale to cheer the place up. Framed pictures of their human friends, quarantining with their families, clustered in one corner so tightly you could hardly see them anymore.

He pulled the latest out of the shopping bag. “Anathema has started a garden,” he explained, pausing to show the photograph to Crowley’s sleeping form. It showed the witch, kneeling outside her little cottage, working on growing several rows of herbs. “I got the impression she was off to a rough start, but she hopes to send us some mint in the next package. Although Newt warned me not to expect too much, as they’d already forgotten which patch is mint and which is oregano.” He set the picture with the others, and slid the potted tulip alongside it. “I’m sure she could use some advice from you, when you’re ready to share.”

“Nnnnh.” Aziraphale spun eagerly, but no, just Crowley shifting in his sleep again, rolling onto his side.

The angel paused to pull the duvet back up to Crowley’s chin, tugging it straight and smoothing a hand down his back. In a way, his friend was nearly unrecognizable, with that hair and ridiculous beard, but in another way looked the same as ever. That was always Crowley’s way, of course, constantly changing yet somehow always the same.

He lingered, taking in the shape of that face, leaning close, lips hovering above his cheekbone—

Aziraphale pulled back, quickly digging into his bag again. “Oh! Ah, the, um, the children have been making projects for their art class. This past month was sculpture, and they sent us some. Look!” He pulled out four little figures of oven-baked clay. “Ah, young Wensleydale has made a very clever model of a train car. Brian’s is…abstract.” He turned the next a few different ways. “And Pepper’s is, ah, either a very complex symbolic representation of the Patriarchy, or…a troll, I think.” They just fit on the edge of the table, all in a line, a very mismatched tableau. The fourth, on the end, was the best, in Aziraphale’s opinion. “Adam made a little Dog, and it’s very well done, don’t you think?” The canine figure posed with one leg raised and head cocked, ready to play, but the shadow it cast was just a little too large, too ominous, for such a small creature.

With a sigh, Aziraphale shifted the row this way and that. “I sent a letter to Warlock, over in America, but haven’t heard back since Christmas. I believe they’re very busy with something. Politics. You know how it is.” When the Dowlings had left England, they’d planned to return for a visit the following summer. A global pandemic had had other ideas.

“In any case, that just leaves Tracy and Shadwell. I understand he’s decided to hate the concept of literacy this month, so no word on how his war with the squirrels is going. And Tracy has declared she will spend the summer making a fairy garden. I thought her sketches looked very promising, and she promised to send us an update in June. I’m sure you’ll find it charming.”

“Hrrrrm.” Crowley sank under the duvet, nestling down a little deeper. Aziraphale smiled, settling into the chair with his plate and mug.

“Things are loosening up again,” he explained, taking a bite of cake. Delicious, if he said so himself. Sharp and not too sweet. “People are getting vaccinated, shops opening up. It’s really a lovely breath of fresh air, at least when you’re not wearing a mask.” A long sip from his mug, then he held it, fingers tapping. “It’s been nice walking through the park again, just in time for the baby ducks. And that record shop at the corner, they’ve had some wonderful new additions. Which reminds me.”

Putting aside his mug, Aziraphale dug through the bag again and pulled out a handful of square plastic cases. “They had a whole shipment of those little records the Bentley likes. Modern music. I picked out the ones with the rudest names. I’m sure you’ll enjoy them.” He pulled out the first disc and placed it atop Crowley’s phone. The device blinked in confusion a few times, then obediently copied all the music.

“Of course, it’s not all good news.” He stacked the rest of the discs atop the phone and returned to his tea. “Reopening means the customers are coming back. Yesterday, this one individual spent almost an hour browsing the same three shelves. And then he tried to make off with one of my books.” Another long sip. “Granted, he offered to pay, but still. What sort of establishment does he think I’m running?”

Aziraphale paused, waiting for Crowley to respond, not that he ever did. The demon’s eyelids moved a little, but no more.

Sighing, Aziraphale turned to his muffin. “You know, many times in the last year, I’ve wished you were there. Particularly during reopening phases. You could have posed as a customer, and then I’d be able to tell people I was at the capacity limit. Oh, and the people who would call to try and buy my rarest books. Collectors, or so they claimed, but then they just turn around and sell to anyone for twice the price! I’m sure you’d have some biting things to say about such people.” He smiled at Crowley’s sleeping face. “I’ve missed that, and your jokes. Rather more than I expected to.”

When his plate and tea were finished, Aziraphale set them on the floor and reached again into the bag. “Now, I have been attempting to teach my computer how to use the internet. I think it’s going quite well. Adam and his friends gave me a ‘homework assignment’ to find articles on recent news events, and I made the most wonderful discovery. Did you know that humans now share their news through humorous pictures? I printed out my favorites to show you.”[3]

He flicked through a few. “Ah, to start with, a few months ago there was this American politician with amusing mittens who showed up everywhere for a few days. It was extremely droll.” He leaned closer, holding them up for Crowley to see. “Ah, a few more from America. The murder hornets arrived, though by that point everyone had forgotten them. The election became increasingly confusing, and it all ended in a parking lot. For a little while everything was ‘This-or-That Total Landscaping,’ and before that everything was cake.” He showed a few extremely clever illusions. “I did try to make my own, but couldn’t manage it without miracles, which I felt was cheating.”

Really, leaning like this was starting to strain his back. Aziraphale shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, the better to share his pictures. “Ahhh. Also for a time everyone’s calendars were stuck on ‘March.’ And then earlier this year, a group of people learned how the stock market works, but sadly not how to spell it. The whole situation seemed very much like the sort of thing you’d be involved in. And…Oh, this angel from a television show was sent to Hell for…reasons.” He glanced at the shape beside him. Crowley had curled in slightly, pressing against Aziraphale’s back. “Yes. Various reasons. And then this musician, I suppose, went on his own. Both had many people extraordinarily upset.”

The next few images would really tickle Crowley, if he could actually see them. “The biggest news is that a large ship got stuck sideways in that canal in Egypt. Stopped half the world’s shipping for a few days while they dug it out! I’m sure you would have liked that very much. Exactly your sort of trouble. The humans were all very excited.”

The final photo was another of the ship, an image Aziraphale had made himself, printing out a blank version and writing on it in felt-tip pen. The hull of the enormous ship was labeled, “An eternity putting up with the tedious bureaucracy and frequently conflicting commands of my superiors until I begin to doubt my own judgement and sanity,”[4] while the small digger working steadily beside it was “Crowley.”

Aziraphale watched the demon beside him, not really expecting a reaction, certainly not getting one. He reached over, brushing brilliant hair back from Crowley’s forehead. “I think you’d have had rather a lot of fun last year. Or perhaps you’d have been upset you could only watch from a distance. Or…”

He’d leaned much closer than he’d intended, hovering just above Crowley’s forehead.

“Well!” Aziraphale stumbled to his feet. “I suppose that’s just about everything.” He picked up the tray from where he’d rested it on the floor, starting to re-load it with everything he’d brought in. Crowley’s cake and tea sat untouched, as always, but Aziraphale wouldn’t dream of skipping them. “We’re all very optimistic for the summer. Two months and everything should be just…just tickety-boo. Perhaps we can go for that picnic soon, if…yes…”

They’d made such plans for 2020. All the things they would do now they were free. Plans, and other thoughts carried in their minds, possibilities that would play out in their own time. Not too fast, just a slow, steady exploration of everything they could be…

“Well. Pleasant as that idea is, best not to—to plan too much, as the previous year made fools of us all. I just…” He turned away from the tray and watched Crowley sleep, hands clasped before him. “I miss you terribly. And I wish…very much…”

He picked up his shopping bag. One item still inside. The same one he’d been carrying for months, trying to find the courage to bring it out.

With a shaking hand, he reached in and drew forth a soft hand-made doll. He’d spent much of the winter on it. Simple white cotton for the head and body, wooly curls for the hair, and stiff white lace for the wings. Dressed in waistcoat and bowtie made from Aziraphale’s favorite tartan.

He still wasn’t sure why he brought it. He’d stitched several little toys, particularly a lovely black-and-red serpent with gold button eyes that had watched him from the sofa since November. But this, for reasons he couldn’t articulate, this one was for Crowley.

“I, ah…” He shuffled closer, doll clutched in both hands. “I made, um…” Back to the edge of the bed, one hand fumbling across the duvet. “…thought you might like…”

Crowley’s face stood out in stark contrast to the pillow, pale skin and bright hair. Aziraphale wanted to drink it in, memorize every detail, to hold him over until next month. The curve of his nose, the sharp angle of his cheekbones. His lashes flickering as his eyes moved. His lips, pursed ever so slightly…

“Bless it, Angel, are you going to kiss me or not?”

Aziraphale gasped, pulling back from the bright gaze of slit-pupil eyes. “You—you’re awake!”

“Nnnh. Half.” Crowley shifted, head moving across the pillow, eyes threatening to shut again. “Wouldn’t miss your visit.” One hand reached out, plucked the doll from Aziraphale’s unresisting fingers. “For me?”

The angel nodded. “If…if…you like it…or I could—I could just…”

Without a word, Crowley pulled the doll under the duvet and curled up, tucking it under his chin, a faint smile on his lips.

“If you were awake you—you should have said something! I’ve been going—going off like a fool all this—oh!” Aziraphale could feel his face turning hot as he recalled a few times his tongue had been a bit too loose for propriety.

“Mmmmmh.” The golden eyes were shut again.

“Crowley?” No response. “Crowley!” Aziraphale scowled. “Anthony J. Crowley, if you’ve fallen asleep again, I swear, I’ll—”

He’d do what? The angel fumed, but what could he really threaten? To stay away? Never.

“Alright then, I suppose I’ll see you in June. I’ve had several new requests for extremely rare manuscripts and I need to go pen some responses reprimanding these vultures for their cheek. I can—”

“You can stay.”

He spun around. Crowley had one eye barely cracked open. Gently, he pulled back the duvet, showing there was just enough space for Aziraphale beside him.

“I…I couldn’t.” But he stepped forward, not back. “I have business tomorrow, things to—”

“Just tonight then.”

His fingers brushed the mattress and pulled back as if burned. “You—you don’t really mean this, you’re just talking in your sleep.”

“Nah.” Crowley settled the doll by his pillow, making space. “Why else would I give you my key?”

“I…to…water the plants?”

“They take care of themselves.” Crowley held open his arms, eyes shut once more. “I missed you, too.”

Well. What could he say to that?

Aziraphale took off his shoes and slid into bed, into Crowley's arms. They wrapped around him gently as Crowley wriggled closer. “Mmmm. Y’r softer than the doll.”

“Oh.” He’d been called soft many times, generally as a way to imply he was a failure as an angel. But just this once, it made him feel rather pleased. “Soft is good?”

“Verrrry good.” Crowley twisted a bit, trying to find a comfortable way to rest his long limbs, and finally settled curled up against Aziraphale’s chest, tucked below the angel’s chin with a leg hooked over his knees.

The angel smiled. “And you’re…you’re noodlier than a stuffed snake. Err…”

A chuckle, just a stirring of breath across his throat. “Can’t wait to hear the story behind that.” Crowley nuzzled against his shoulder with a sigh. “Good night, Angel.”

Aziraphale swept the brilliant hair back again and bent down, pressing his lips to Crowley’s forehead. A soft, gentle kiss that made his friend smile a little more broadly. “Good night, my dear.”

Crowley drifted off again, burrowing close, as the angel continued to gently tease the back of his hair. Perhaps, he thought, perhaps tomorrow's work wasn't so very urgent. Perhaps a bit of rest would do him good. And perhaps...

Well. Don't plan too much. But for the first time, Aziraphale felt a bit of optimism about the coming summer and its possibilities.

“Sleep well, Crowley.”

[1] Crowley had invented pumpkin spice, and Aziraphale assumed he must like it. In truth, Crowley despised it, and regretted every autumn how it took over the entire world. He missed apple cider season. [2] Aziraphale had suspected since the early 1950s that Crowley secretly took his tea with several lumps of sugar, but would continue to pretend he didn’t know until Crowley confessed. Considering current circumstances, that was unlikely to be any time soon. [3] Aziraphale’s fax machine, revived after over three decades of disuse, had been somewhat confused to be asked to perform any task at all, much less to print memes onto photo paper with perfectly balanced color; but like the plants and Crowley’s phone, it couldn’t stand to disappoint the angel. [4] It was possible he hadn’t quite mastered this new form of communication.

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ateezmakemeweep · 4 years

Text

you’re the one that i want (part 24)

word count: 5k

fluff

(part 23) (series masterlist)

it was crazy how long days used to feel during this time just last year, after winer break started and the draining third and forth marking periods of school started.

usually, you’d be crumbling.

working your hardest to maintain your grades while also dealing with a toxic home environment. you loved school because it served as a safe haven away from that but it also drained and exhausted every bit of you.

but four months of your life now passed by unbelievably fast and you were handling everything well, good people around you that made schoolwork just a little more tolerable.

when you were struggling with math, mingi would help you during lunch. if you needed someone to test you with flashcards, yeosang would reward every correct answer with a piece of food. when a particular teacher gave you shit for anything, wooyoung was quick to cause some sort of chaos even if it meant getting detention.

and when everything just got too overwhelming and you never wanted to look at another book again, seonghwa was quick to clear your desk and drag you to bed. lay you down and hold himself above you until you were smiling and giggling as he pecked kisses down your neck.

you think it was solely because of him and the others and your aunt that june came so fast, only two weeks left of school and everyone buzzing with excitement; even with the whines and arguing coming from your lunch table.

“you’re really gonna make us stay in a hotel for the whole summer?” wooyoung asked, looking at seonghwa with distrust and hurt in his eye. “i thought we had fun at your house that time.”

because with only two weeks left of school meant only two weeks left of you and seonghwa commuting back and forth.

of seeing wooyoung, san, mingi and yeosang every day who have really grown to love this dynamic; so much so, they’ve been all but begging to spend the whole summer there with you two.

but to no one’s surprise, seonghwa wasn’t for the idea.

“no, you guys had fun. i was one second away from flinging myself off a fucking cliff.”

“that’s not fair,” san whines.

but the dirty blonde only quirks an eyebrow and asks if it was fair that he had to sleep on the floor on his own bedroom every night. or be rudely woken up and forced to make breakfast. or share his girlfriend and-

“no hotel, you guys could always stay with me,” you interrupt sweetly, a small smile on your face that only widens when you feel seonghwa glaring at you. your head cranes over to look him up and down, a smirk crossing your face as you shrug your shoulders carelessly.

“what?”

“yeah, what?” wooyoung asks, mimicking your higher voice causing you to narrow your eyes at him.

“really? what?” seonghwa asks, annoyance and exasperation in his tone. “i don’t want you burning my girlfriend’s house down, that’s what.”

“girlfriend, this. girlfriend, that. we all know you have a girlfriend, okay.”

“what? girlfriend? i don’t have a girlfriend.”

everyone’s heads snap to the side when a new voice stammers those words out, yeosang finally arriving and standing there looking incredibly panicked and guilty.

it makes you in particular cock an eyebrow, the other boy’s “where the hell did you come from” and “we know you loser,” quickly turning back into whines and protests to seonghwa.

but for the the rest of lunch, you could only focus on how...odd yeosang is acting.

peeking at you every now and then before smiling awkwardly, checking his phone and trying to hide his smile, needing mingi or san to repeat themselves several times because he just seems so dazed and out of it.

when lunch ends, seonghwa is quick to stand up and grab your hand as per your usual walk to class together. but you take your hand from his hold and place it on his arm, standing up on your tippy toe to peck his cheek.

“can you go without me?” you ask softly, using a voice you know will always get him. “i wanna talk to yeosang for a second.”

“oh?” he mumbles, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear casually. “what about?”

“i don’t know, he was acting strange,” you say quietly, turning to see him gathering his stuff and checking his phone once more. “i wanna make sure he’s okay.”

the dirty blonde looks to yeosang and hums quietly, looking over his friend who meets his gaze.

“what?”

“why are you being a weird fuck?”

“seonghwa!” you squeal, smacking his chest before quickly ushering him away.

he lets out a loud chuckle before squeezing your hand once more, telling you he’ll meet you at the end of the period and meeting yeosang’s middle finger with one of his own.

“your boyfriend’s such a dick.”

a small smirk crosses your face as you shrug, looking the boy over with a suspicious look in your eye. a look that he catches and turns an endearing but humorous shade of red because of.

“why are you looking at me like that?”

“because i think you got yourself a girlfriend,” you say, poking his arm as you two walk through the crowded, bustling hallways. he lets out a scoff before bumping into you, remembering to be gentle;

because the last time he did that, you smacked into a wall and he paid for it dearly - curtsey of seonghwa’s fist in his stomach.

“what makes you say that?”

“just a vibe,” you say, the sweet smile on your face morphing into a teasing one when he raises an eyebrow. “and you’re little ‘who me? i don’t have a girlfriend!’ was the icing on the cake, really.”

he stares blankly at you causing you to giggle, shrugging your shoulders as you promise you won’t tell anyone if that’s the case.

and it takes a little bit of persuading, just a pout on your lips before you remind him how mean he was to you when you first met for good measure.

“that’s not fair,” he sighs out, a smirk on your face as you shrug your shoulders.

and just as you knew you would, you find out he’s been seeing a girl for a few months. that they’re not official or serious, only having been on a few dates but enough time for him to really like her.

“she kind of scared the shit out of me at first,” he laughs out and you have to suppress the squeal threatening to leave your lips at the sappy look on his face. “she still kinda does but she’s also really fucking cool. i don’t know, i just like her.”

and once he sees the bright smile on your face, he knows he made a grave mistake.

“but don’t tell those shitheads yet, i wanna ask her out first.”

“oh? when you are going to? today? oh, my gosh and how?” you squeal excitedly, the initial budding of a romance something that always makes your heart soar. but it proves to only make yeosang roll his eyes, the sound of the bell blaring through the hall saving him.

“perfect timing,” he quips, your arm shooting out to push at him before he rushes down the hallway to his class.

“perfect timing.”

san narrows his eyes at you a few hours later at the cafe, a smirk crossing your face when you see wooyoung wave to you from the window; it’s almost the 6th shift in a row the boy has made him late for but he looks all too pleased with himself.

“he has no shame,” you hum lowly, giggling softly when you see a blush cross san’s face. “and neither do you, apparently.”

“stop,” he whines, hitting you lightly in the arm. “you have to be nice, we only have a few weeks left together here.”

because as much as you love san and this cafe, commuting during the summer would’ve been an absolute nightmare. and his parents had been the ones to suggest it, telling you they would never in a million years fire you but wanted you to enjoy your summer.

“and you can’t do that if you’re trapped in a car ten hours a week,” they said, before taking notes from their son and promptly pushing free cookies and cakes down your throat.

but you’re really gonna miss this place. even if you’re only away from it for a few months, it acted as a safe haven when you really needed one. was one of the only places where you’d have a smile on your face and not feel like your life was falling apart at the seams.

“what do you mean? you guys are staying with me,” you say, looking at him like a confused puppy in a way that makes him smile.

“seonghwa’s not gonna allow that.”

“well luckily, it’s not up to seonghwa. it’s up to me and my aunt.”

san bites the inside of his cheek to hold back his smirk, looking at you with a quirked up eyebrow causing you to mirror his expression.

“what?”

“just keep that energy when he’s around too,” the boy teases before his eyes dramatically bat and his face becomes one of a lovesick teen. “but seonghwa, pleaseee,” he whines, doing a lousy impression of your voice that makes you smack his shoulder.

but your fight and quarreling is quickly interrupted by the uncharacteristically abrupt entrance of bo-ra, the once shy girl coming out of her shell a little bit more everyday.

you were happy you were able to keep your friendship with them despite the fact they were at different school, always having at least two customers a day who you could guarantee would make you and san smile.

“you guys will never believe this.”

and right when bo-ra tells you jojo has been seeing a boy for a few months now, you almost don’t believe it. not only because of the crazy coincidence that yeosang, too, has been seeing a girl for the past few months but because it might be jojo.

it almost seemed as if the girl had sworn off any and all high school boys because they are “mean, idiotic assholes who think with the wrong, less impressive head.”

and yeosang being the one to change that perspective? you couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it all.

how yeosang, at one point, was the exact description of that. how, really, all of them were like that except the sweet blonde throwing his head back in laughter at this information.

“no way, who is he? and what’s wrong with him?”

you both let out a snort and hit the boy playfully, bo-ra putting a finger to her lips as she looks at san chastisingly.

“stop it, they’re coming any second now! i ran ahead because i could not stand to watch them awkwardly bump arms and blush any longer. but act natural. pretend i didn’t tell you. in fact, maybe you guys should act like you don’t even-”

but the second the door rings open, san is up and over to them in a second. he’s so hot in pursuit he doesn’t even realize it’s the familiar brown-haired boy, teasing eyes on jojo as he greets them with a tray of cookies.

“i gotta give it to jojo, i never thought anyone would be able to-”

and it’s at hearing the lowly mumbled “shit,” under his breath that makes san stop talking, snapping his head over to see no other than yeosang looking at him with a half annoyed, half guilty expression.

“yeosang?”

the last two weeks of school for you, and mostly everyone else, were great. the work was light, the teachers were lenient and every single person was in good spirits and anticipating the fun and relaxation that came with summer.

the last two weeks of school for yeosang, however, were...disastrous. because not only was everyone giving him shit for having a girlfriend, they were chastising him for keeping it a secret.

“it wasn’t a fucking secret! i just hadn’t asked her officially yet and i wanted to wait until-”

“we went through this shit before and we’re not about to do it again,” mingi says, whacking the top of the brunet’s head before looking at you and seonghwa. “no offense guys.”

“none taken,” you giggle out as you shake your head, seonghwa rolling his eyes before pulling you into him further. you smile softly against him and meet his gaze, smirking at the look on his face and leaning up to peck his cheek.

it’s a look that only gets more annoyed and tense as the conversation goes into summer, his arm still tightly around you serving as the only thing to keep him grounded and sane.

the same way you’re the only thing keeping him sane now, you in the front seat of his car while wooyoung, mingi, san and yeosang all flail around and hit each other in the back. the trunk is full of suitcases and bags filled enough for two months because, of course, he had lost that battle.

“i’ll definitely be a better surfer, are you fuckin’ nuts?”

“no fucking way, you’re too lanky.”

“well you’re too short! did you stop growing at age eight?”

seonghwa looks over at you, a pained expression on his face at the juvenile conversation in the back and you can only tighten your hold on your intertwined hands.

look down and smile at not only the banter of the boys and your boyfriend’s utter annoyance but the way his hand holds yours so securely.

how they fit together perfectly as you trace your other fingers over the black rings and veins of his hand.

“it’s gonna be fine,” you tell seonghwa softly, surprised he can even hear you despite the chaos in the back. “they could always stay with me if you need a break.”

but he only looks over at you and shakes his head, bringing your hand to his lips before he tightens his hold on you.

“absolutely not, i could never put you through that.”

you let out a snort before wooyoung’s head is directly between you both, his arms on the console and neck snapping back and forth as he begs seonghwa for surfing lessons to prove mingi wrong.

and much to the taller boy’s dismay, wooyoung actually did prove to be the better surfer.

because after only two days of you guys going down to the ocean, seonghwa’s reluctant help in teaching him, though nowhere near as thorough as the lessons he provided last year, proved that the brunet was just somehow naturally gifted at it.

“how does it feel to fucking suck?” wooyoung laughs at mingi, watching the boy roll in clumsily after being knocked by waves. his wet hair’s a mess of tangles and seaweed and yunho can only watch from the beach with a frown on his face.

“he’s trying though,” the tall boy whines to you, a giggle leaving your mouth as you shake your head.

“i know, he really is,” you say, the two of you laughing again as mingi jumps up and tries to dunk wooyoung under water. you two watch as the shorter boy gets away, much to mingi’s annoyance, and he looks at you two with a dejected look.

“come here,” yunho yells down to mingi, his large hand flagging the boy over. but he only lets shake his head and tells him to go there, that he needs his help now and is gonna cry if he doesn’t.

and what mingi wants from the boy, he gets almost immediately. because you don’t know if you’ve ever seen yunho move so fast, rolling your eyes at how easy he gives in before you lay back down and enjoy the warm sun on your skin - but only for a few moments.

because then you feel a familiar pair of arms around you, your eyes shooting open just in time to see you’re being thrown over seonghwa’s shoulder as he’s heads to the ocean. you squeal and hit his back and tell him he better not throw you in but you don’t even have to see him to know there’s a smirk on his face.

he goes in until it’s waist deep before promptly throwing you down, the freezing june water making you squeal out before popping up with a gasp.

“seonghwa!”

“i’m sorry, baby, but i had to,” he whines, circling his arms around your waist. you narrow your eyes but welcome his touch anyway, even jump up and wrap your legs around his hips in a move you’re all too familiar with in this ocean.

“you really didn’t,” you whine softly but he can only kiss your salty lips and you smile against them, meeting the chaste, sweet kiss back immediately. your arms wrap around his neck when his tongue slips in just a little teasingly, pushing yourself further into him and smiling when he pulls back.

“it’s broad daylight,” his deep voice chokes out warningly, your one hand snaking down to trace the lines of his stomach teasingly.

“you started it,” you quip back playfully, trying so desperately to remember there are far too many people around to repeat what happened several times right in this ocean.

but how could you forget? especially with the scoffs and splashing coming from just a few feet away from you.

“hey sickos, i’m pretty sure you can get arrested for that,” yeosang yelps, seonghwa pulling away to sneer at him while you hide your face in embarrassment because he’s probably right.

you can feel the dirty blonde smile against your head as you hide in his neck, seonghwa’s fingers threading through your hair before pulling your face back to look at him.

he can’t help but snort when he sees the pink flush on your cheeks, knowing it’s not from the sun because he made sure to put sunscreen on you before coming down to the beach today.

“did you put on sunscreen?”

your face drops and the guilty look in your eyes causes him to groan. he drops his board and takes the black bag from his back, zipping it open and pulling out a bottle of sunscreen.

“here.”

and you already know better than to refuse, taking it with a wince and quiet “thank you.”

he watches you rub it over your arms and shoulders, feeling your cheeks warm as his eyes stay on you. “did you put some on?” you ask, in an effort to distract yourself from his piercing gaze.

but he only nods his head, picking his board up and dusting off some sand and dirt as his eyes remain on you. you squirt some more on your hand before giving it to him with a grateful smile, rubbing it in and then wiping the excess on your face.

“thank you,” you tell him. “i always forget to put it on which would explain why i’m a little-”

“missed some,” he hums lowly, his hand slowly reaching out so his thumb can rub in the lotion on your cheek.

he does everything so smoothly and nonchalantly while you inhale sharply, your lips parting and watching him with wide eyes. it was the first indication that his touch was gonna be gentle this week, his hands softer than you expected. his eyes meet yours when he pulls his hand back, raising his eyebrow when he sees your face.

“you good?”

yeah, i’m good, you think, i just have a handsome boy touching my face about to put me in cardiac arrest.

he plays the memory over in his head and can’t help but smile, your eyes catching his dazed look along with the softer look in his eye.

“what?” you squeak, cocking your head to the side in confusion.

“nothing,” he says, shrugging his shoulders before tightening his hold on you. “i just love you.”

because he can’t help but think about those times last year, when he was bitter and jaded and so closed off to feeling anything positive. it’d all been a mask, of course, but he’d worn it for so long he didn’t know if he’d ever learn how to be without it.

but that was until he saw you, started everything with you right here in the form of soft, guiding touches that lingered just a little too long and shy looks back and forth that should’ve made him realize this was gonna be the result.

him so easily telling you he loves you, with any and everyone around to hear him say it so surely. biting back a smile and feeling his heart lurch in his chest when your face softens and mouth drops open.

because even though you know he loves you, know that he says it several times a day and means it every time, it’s these random little moments that make your heart flutter the most.

when he’s saying it for no other reason than that he wants you to hear it, that he becomes fully consumed by the feeling just from watching you smile or feeling you against him.

but you still can’t help but blush as you softly tell him you love him too, his skin littered with water droplets and the sun shining behind him so devastatingly familiar and handsome.

your arms tightly wound around his neck before he twirls you around and nearly sends you flying under water, your giggle and seonghwa’s deep chuckle echoing through the salty air.

but it’s quickly cut off by another voice, one much harsher and not so giddy.

“jesus christ,” yeosang grumbles, you and seonghwa snapping your heads over to see him looking at you both. “please don’t tell me i’m gonna look this pathetic.”

“fuck off,” seonghwa snaps. but you can only smack him lightly and look at yeosang with a raised eyebrow, because you’ve actually seen him and jojo together and can confirm they’re just as pathetic as you two.

“of course you do,” you say, your eyes moving back to shore as a small, teasing smile crosses your face. “because look, jojo just got here.”

and the way yeosang’s face brightens and his head snaps to the side is the first indication you’re absolutely correct. his eyes roaming the beach and softly spoken “where is she?” making you feel just a little bit bad for lying.

the girls did, however, make it just a few days later for a weekend trip. yeosang greeted jojo just as pathetically as he feared to look, his arms wrapping around her body and pressing a kiss to her head like they hadn’t seen each other in months.

mumbled that he missed her and how pretty she looked and you had to turn your face into seonghwa’s chest so you didn’t squeal.

it was nice to see them both so vulnerable. when you first met them, they were harsher and colder, with walls not so easy to break down that always made them sneer in the face of love. made them question couples that made it seem like the end of the world when they were apart.

but now, they’re going through that dilemma firsthand with all the other couples, when talk of a girl sleepover and boy sleepover happen, san being looped into the former purely due to bo-ra’s request.

“what, no,” wooyoung whined, arm reaching out to pull the blonde back by the shirt. “he has to be with us. he’s technically a boy.”

“technically?” san asks, snapping his head to the side to look the pouting boy.

"but there’s already too many of you, yunho’s parents will go crazy,” you say, walking over and smacking wooyoung’s hand off the blonde. “and you get to see him all the time. bo-ra and jojo are only here for the weekend.”

“b-but,”

“i’ll be back to you in the morning, drama queen, since i’m only technically a boy,” san says, secretly far too excited with a night away from them; he loves his friends and woo but sometimes they get even a little too crazy for him, having grown used to spending all his time with you.

and of course, you don’t miss your own boyfriend’s reluctance to let you go but can only assure him with a sweet smile and teasing shake of the head before you all run inside and lock the doors.

it takes your aunt all of two seconds to fall in love with your new friends, a spread of dessert and soda in wine glasses (except for her own) keeping you occupied well into the night.

you all laugh until tears are in your eyes and your sides hurt, the boys just a house away hearing the ruckus through the open windows.

“do you think...they’re talking about us?” wooyoung asks seonghwa and yeosang, the dirty blonde rolling his eyes as yeosang’s mouth drops open.

“oh, my god do they do that?” the brunet asks, shock and horror in his voice as both boys turn to look at seonghwa.

the dirty blonde is tapping on his phone before he feels eyes on him, looking over to see his two friends staring at him wildly.

“what is wrong with you guys?”

“let’s sneak over. i can’t take not knowing what they’re laughing about.”

“what if they’re talking about our...”

another loud chorus of giggles and cackles rings through the window and it causes yeosang and wooyoung to shoot away from the window, paranoia quickly creeping up on them.

“shit! they’re they go again. what the hell could be so damn funny?”

“they must be getting details from jojo now,” seonghwa says casually, wooyoung snorting as yeosang’s head snaps to him in outrage.

and while you guys might’ve been talking about them a little, you’d never let them know that. you’d never let them know you actually shared about how sweet and thoughtful they could all be, even given their flaws.

but somewhere between talking and laughing and then going out in the pool, stormy clouds rolled in and before you knew it, rain and thunder was pelting against your window.

blankets and pillows were sprawled out across your aunt’s couch as you all laid there cuddled into one another, san’s head on your foot while your head rested on jojo’s shoulder.

it took one movie to knock them out and then another for last girl, now just you with the darkness and roaring weather outside quickly making you miss the boy next door.

you’d gotten used to having him every night; more often than not, you slept together and woke to one another and now you’re feeling just a little hypocritical for tearing wooyoung and san away from each other so easily.

because you’re quick to sneak away from your three sleeping friends, cover them with blankets and turn of the tv, before sneaking into your room.

one particularly loud crack of thunder causes you to jump, cursing yourself when you check the pockets of your pajamas and realize you forgot your phone downstairs.

“shit,” you mutter under your breath, about to turn around and make your way back down when you hear a knocking on your balcony door.

and then suddenly, your life feels very much so like a horror movie - no means to communicate with anyone, the howling wind and darkness outside, a mysterious knocking at a door that the character is stupidly going to investigate.

but maybe it’s because, somehow, you knew your soaking wet boyfriend was gonna be standing on the other side.

“i texted you,” he says simply, like he’s not standing out in the pouring rain or giving you a mini heart attack.

“you could’ve rang the doorbell!” you whisper-yell, pulling him inside before telling him to stay there. you run frantically around your room for a towel and an extra set of his clothes you ‘borrowed’ before throwing them at him.

“why did you do that, you’re gonna get sick!”

and despite your rush of adrenaline to save him, another crack of thunder causes you to jump and he can’t help the smirk that crosses his face.

“you’re really asking me that?”

“i told you i’m not scared of thunder,” you say surely, taking his wet clothes and hanging them in the bathroom before seeing he made himself quite comfortable in your bed.

it’s upon hearing another boom outside, shaking the house and causing a squeal to leave your mouth, that you quickly scurry in next to him. cuddling yourself into him and resting your head on his chest as he wraps an arm around you tightly.

he smiles against your head and doesn’t comment on the pounding of your heart against him, how any time a loud crack of thunder comes, you cling onto him just a little tighter the way you always do during a storm.

“i’m not scared,” you insist, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“i know, baby, i just missed you,” he mumbles against your head, bringing your face to his so he can place a kiss on your lips. he tightens his hold on your hair when you deepen it, reach up and part of your mouths before moving up to straddle his hips.

and despite the growing hardness you feel underneath you the more you kiss, he never tries to take it further. you just kiss and giggle and smile against the others mouth until you rest your head back on his chest, the feeling of his hand rubbing your back and softly spoken “i’m here, baby,” lulling to the sleep despite the storm outside.

even though you’ll both be awakening to a different type of storm tomorrow, when wooyoung and yeosang discover seonghwa had snuck out and made his way to the house next door.

(part 25)

tag list: @chogiout ; @psshwa ; @yeocult ; @seongghwaa ; @cherryeonii ; @chaoticbanqtan ; @8teenee ; @nczenniez ; @atinyarmyx1 ; @mingtopiaa ; @chubsluda ; @joongiebug ; @mochibabycakes ; @jisungity ; @skz-on-my-mind ; @nlost21 ; @myonlyaurora ; @closer-stars ; @kuaenam3g ; @byungaji ; @floweryjh ; @joeycheungg ; @lostscenarios ; @atinyxtopia ; @sanisms ; @kpopnightingale ; @simpforhyunjin ; @89staytinyzen21 ; @lokicaramel ; @hwaxbum ; @sakura-uji ; @songsoomin ; @toffee-hwa ; @deobitiful ; @hyunjeansuniverse ; @chrryhwa ; @i-know-you-know-lee-know ; @tiny-whatsername ; @fairieofeternity ; @yixing-jaehyun ; @sleepyseonghwa ; @revehosh ; @atletino ; @yeol-wish ;

#these last 2 are just fluffy nonsense tbh <3 #i have a migraine so this was bare minimum #srry :/#seonghwa #seonghwa fluff #ateez #ateez fluff #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa imagines #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios

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michaelbogild · 3 years

Text

Lines by Bruce Springsteen

Shithole on the corner, no light, no sign Nobody on the street except the deaf, dumb, and blind

Now your death is upon us, and we'll return your ashes to the earth And I know you'll take comfort in knowing you've been roundly blessed and cursed

Some girls, they want a handsome Dan Or some good-lookin' Joe on their arm Some girls like a sweet-talkin' Romeo Well, 'round here, baby I learned you get what you can get So if you're rough enough for love Honey, I'm tougher than the rest

Can't see nothing in front of me Can't see nothing coming up behind Make my way through this darkness I can't feel nothing but this chain that binds me Lost track of how far I've gone How far I've gone, how high I've climbed On my back's a sixty pound stone On my shoulder, a half-mile line

A mother prays, "Sleep tight, my child, sleep well For I'll be at your side That no shadow, no darkness, no tolling bell Shall pierce your dreams this night"

Tonight we'll sing the songs I'll dream of you, my corazón And tomorrow my heart will be strong And may the saints blessing and grace Carry me safely into your arms There, across the border

We are alive And though our bodies lie alone here in the dark Our spirits rise To carry the fire and light the spark To stand shoulder to shoulder and heart to heart

The condition you're in Now you just can't get out of this skin

The hurricane blows, brings a hard rain When the blue sky breaks, it feels like the world's gonna change We'll start caring for each other like Jesus said that we might I'm a Jack of all trades, we'll be alright

You shot through my anger and rage To show me my prison was just an open cage There were no keys no guards Just one frightened man and some old shadows for bars

You gave your love to see In fields of red and autumn brown You gave your love to me And lay your young body down

If the angels are unkind or the season is dark Or if in the end Love just falls apart Then here's to our destruction Baby let me be your soul driver

I know we're different you and me Got a different way of walking The time has come to let the past be history Yeah, if we could just start talking

I chased the heat of her blood Like it was the holy grail Descend beautiful spirit Into the evening pale Her appaloosa's Kicking in the corral smelling rain There's a low thunder rolling Across the mesquite plain

The dust of civilizations and love's sweet remains Slip off of your fingers and come drifting down like rain The pages of Revelation lie open in your empty eyes of blue I watch you slip that comb through your hair and this, I promise you, I'll work for your love, dear

Tend to your flock or they will stray We'll be called for our service come judgment day Before we cross that river wide The blood on our hands will come back on us twice

Bird on a wire outside my motel room But he ain't singing Girl in white outside a church in June But the church bells ain't ringing I'm sitting here in this bar tonight But all I'm thinking Is I'm the same old story, same old act One step up and two steps back

Goodbye, my darling For your love, I give God thanks, Meet me on the Matamoros banks

Trees on fire with the first fall's frost Long black line in front of Holy Cross Blood moon rising in a sky of black dust Tell me baby, who do you trust?

He saw the watcher at the city gates Jonah in the belly of a whale He watched you walk your ragged mile His mercy it did not fail

I got somethin' in my heart, I been waitin' to give I got a life I wanna start, one I been waitin' to live No more waitin', tonight I feel the light I say the prayer I open the door, I climb the stairs

Yeah funny, I thought I felt a sweet summer breeze Must have been you sighing so deep, Don't worry, we're going to find a way

So you been broken and you been hurt Show me somebody who ain't Yeah I know I ain't nobody's bargain But hell a little touchup And a little paint

Tires on the highway hissing that something's coming You can feel the wires in the tree tops humming Devil's on the horizon line Your kiss and I'm alive

Mister trouble come walkin' this way Year gone past feels like one long day But I'm alive and I'm feelin' all right Well I run that hard road outta hearbreak city Built a roadside carnival out of hurt and self-pity It was all wrong well now I'm movin' on

Band's counting out midnight Floor's rumbling loud Singer's calling up daylight And waiting for that shout from the crowd

Remember the morning we dug up your gun The worms in the barrel, the hanging sun Those first nervous evenings of perfume and gin The lost smell on your breath as I helped you get it in The rush of your lips, the feel of your name The beat in your heart, the devil's arcade

You're looking for the key of that box you locked yourself in

I hold my breath and close my eyes And I wait for paradise

The road is dark And it's a thin thin line But I want you to know I'll walk it for you any time Maybe your other boyfriends Couldn't pass the test Well, if you're rough and ready for love Honey, I'm tougher than the rest

Well now on a summer night in a dusky room Come a little piece of the Lord's undying light Crying like he swallowed the fiery moon In his mother's arms it was all the beauty I could take Like the missing words to some prayer that I could never make In a world so hard and dirty so fouled and confused Searching for a little bit of God's mercy I found living proof

Now it's some old Stones' song the band is trashin' But if you feel like dancin', baby, I'm askin'

I got seven pictures of Buddha The prophet's on my tongue Eleven angels of mercy Sighing over that black hole in the sun My heart's dark but it's rising I'm pulling all the faith I can see From that black hole on the horizon I hear your voice calling me

So tell me what I see when I look in your eyes Is that you baby or just a brilliant disguise

I wanna build me a house, on higher ground I wanna find me a world, where love's the only sound High above this road, filled with shadow and doubt I want to shoulder my load, and figure it all out With Leah

But love and duty called you some place higher Somewhere up the stairs, into the fire

Hard times, baby well they come to us all Sure as the ticking of the clock on the wall Sure as the turning of the night into day Your smile girl, brings the morning light to my eyes Lifts away the blues when I rise I hope that you're coming to stay

I heard somebody call your name from underneath our willow I saw something tucked in shame underneath your pillow Well I've tried so hard baby but I just can't see What a woman like you is doing with me

Now everyone dreams of a love lasting and true But you and I know what this world can do So let's make our steps clear that the other may see And I'll wait for you If I should fall behind Wait for me

Now I was young and pretty on the mean streets of the city And I fought to make 'em my home With just the shirt on my back I left and swore I'd never look back And man I was gone gone gone But there's things that'll knock you down you don't even see coming And send you crawling like a baby back home You're gonna find out that day, sugar

She sits on the porch of her daddy's house Oh but honey your pretty dress is torn She stared off alone into the night With the eyes of one who hates for just being born

Well here's to your good looks baby now here's to my health Here's to the loaded places that we take ourselves When it comes to luck you make your own Tonight I got to dirt on my hands but I'm building me a new home

My father said, "Son, we're lucky in this town It's a beautiful place to be born It just wraps its arms around you Nobody crowds you, and nobody goes it alone"

In the darkness my fingers slip across your skin I feel your sweet reply The room fades away and suddenly I'm way up high Just holdin' you to me As through the window the moonlight streams Oh won't you baby be in my book of dreams

Well it's never too late so come on girl The tables are waiting You and me and lady luck well tonight We'll be celebrating Drinkin' champagne on ice In just another roll of the dice

Same old faces it's the same old town What once was laughs is draggin' me now Waitin' on rain hangin' on for love Words of forgiveness from some God above Ain't no words of mercy comin' from on high Oh no just a long goodbye

We've given each other some hard lessons lately We ain't learning We're the same sad story, that's a fact One step up and two steps back

Taj Mahal, the pyramids of Egypt are unique, I suppose But when they built you, brother, they broke the mold

I need you to chase these blues away Without you, I'm a drummer girl that can't keep a beat, Ice cream truck on a deserted street

Good times got a way of slipping away

It's the same thing night on night Who's wrong baby who's right Another fight and I slam the door On another battle in our dirty little war

Is dry lightning on the horizon line Just dry lightning and you on my mind

The day rips apart A dark and bloody arrow pierced my heart

There's a cross up yonder on Calvary Hill There's a slip of blood on a silver knife There's a graveyard kid down below Where at night the dead come to life

My soul went walkin' but I stayed here Feel like I been workin' for a thousand years Chippin' away at this chain of my own lies Climbin' a wall a hundred miles high Well I woke up this morning on the other side Yeah yeah this is the long goodbye

Now sometimes tomorrow comes soaked in treasure and blood Here we stood the drought, now we'll stand the flood There's a new world coming, I can see the light I'm a Jack of all trades, we'll be alright

I'm trudging through the dark in a world gone wrong I woke up this morning shackled and drawn

Now, when all this steel and these stories Drift away to rust And all our youth and beauty Has been given to the dust When the game has been decided And we're burnin' down the clock And all our little victories and glories Have turned into parking lots

The rain it keeps on falling on twisted bones and dirt I'm buried to my heart here in this hurt

These are better days baby Yeah there's better days shining through These are better days baby Better days with a girl like you

Now I ply my trade in the land of king dollar Where you get paid and your silence passes as honor And all the hatred and dirty little lies Been written off the books and into decent men's eyes

Well, darling if you're weary Lay your head upon my chest We'll take what we can carry Yeah, and we'll leave the rest

Give me help, give me strength Give a soul a night of fearless sleep Give me love, give me peace Don't you know these days you pay for everything

Where're the eyes, the eyes with the will to see Where're the hearts that run over with mercy Where's the love that has not forsaken me Where's the work that set my hands, my soul free Where's the spirit that'll reign, reign over me Where's the promise from sea to the shining sea

Been on a barbed wire highway 40 days and nights I ain't complaining, it's my job and it suits me right I got a sweet soft fever rushing around my head I'm gonna sleep tonight in Maria's bed

Baby, once I thought I knew Everything I needed to know about you Your sweet whisper, your tender touch I didn't really know that much Joke's on me, but it's going to be okay If I can just get through this lonesome day

Ain't no mercy on the streets of this town Ain't no bread from heavenly skies Ain't nobody drawin' wine from this blood It's just you and me tonight

I knew some day your running would be through and you'd think back on me and you And your love would be strong You'd forget all about the bad and think only of all the laughs that we had And you'd wanna come home Well, now it ain't hard feelings or nothing, sugar That ain't what's got me singing this song It's just nobody knows baby where love goes But when it goes it's gone gone

Dark and bloody autumn pierces my heart The memory of your kiss tears me apart The sky above is turning, the world below's gone gray I thought that I could turn and walk away

Einstein and Shakespeare Sitting having a beer Einstein trying to figure out the number that adds up to this Shakespeare said, "Man it all starts with a kiss" Einstein is scratching Numbers on his napkin Shakespeare said, "Man, it's just one and one make three Ah, that's why it's poetry"

Your sweet memory comes on the evening wind I sleep and dream of holding you in my arms again The lights of Brownsville across the river shine A shout rings out, into the silty red river, I dive

Seven days, seven candles In my window, light your way Your favorite record's on the turntable I drop the needle and pray

Well, the piss yellow sun Comes bringing up the day She said "Ain't nobody can give nobody What they really need anyway"

Your voice comes calling through the mist I awake from a dream and my heart begins to drift

I'll hammer the nails and I'll set the stone I'll harvest your crops when they're ripe and grown I'll pull that engine apart and patch her up 'til she's running right I'm a Jack of all trades, we'll be alright

I want a thousand guitars I want pounding drums I want a million different voices speaking in tongues

Out where the sky's been cleared by a good hard rain There's somebody callin' my secret name

Blood on the streets Yeah, blood flowing down I hear the blood of my blood Crying from the ground

Well, it ought to be easy, it ought to be simple enough Yeah, man meets woman and they fall in love But this house is haunted and the ride gets rough You've got to learn to live with what you can't rise above If you want to ride on down, down in through this tunnel of love

You said, "Heroes are needed, so heroes get made" Somebody made a bet, somebody paid The cool desert morning and nothing to save Just metal and plastic where your body caved

Well I took a piss at fortune's sweet kiss It's like eatin' caviar and dirt It's sad funny ending to find yourself pretending A rich man in a poor man's shirt

In the late afternoon sun fills the room with a mist in the garden before the fall I watch your hands smooth the front of your blouse and seven drops of blood fall

I'm standing in the backyard Listening to the party inside Tonight I'm drinkin' in the forgiveness This life provides

We've got no fairytale ending In God's hands our fate is complete Your heaven's here in my heart Our love's this dust beneath my feet

Billy felt a coldness rise up inside him that he couldn't name Just as the words tattooed 'cross his knuckles he knew would always remain At their bedside, he brushed the hair from his wife's face as the moon shone on her skin so white Filling their room in the beauty of God's fallen light

Now Tom said, "Mom, wherever there's a cop beating a guy Wherever a hungry newborn baby cries Where there's a fight against the blood and hatred in the air Look for me, Mom, I'll be there

Well tonight I just wanna shout I feel my soul waist deep and sinking Into this black river of doubt I just wanna rise and walk along the riverside And when the morning comes baby I don't wanna hide I'll stand right at your side with my arms open wide

Hands me two tickets, smiles and whispers good luck Well cuddle up angel, cuddle up my little dove We'll ride down baby into this tunnel of love

Everything is everything But you're missing

Where the distant oceans sing and rise to the plains In this dry and troubled country, your beauty remains Down from the mountain roads where the highway rolls to dark Beneath Allah's blessed rain, we remain worlds apart

The moon is high and here I am Sittin' here with this hammer in hand One more drink oughta ease the pain Starin' at that last link in the chain Well let's raise our glass and let the hammer fly Hey yeah this is the long goodbye

Baby let's get our bags packed We'll take it here to hell and heaven and back And if love is hopeless hopeless at best Come on put on your party dress it's ours tonight And we're going with the tumblin' dice

I got a cold mind to go tripping across that thin line I'm sick of doing straight time

There's a girl across the bar I get the message she's sending Hmm she ain't looking too married Me well honey I'm pretending Last night I dreamed I held you in my arms The music was never ending We danced as the evening sky faded to black One step up and two steps back

Well the highway is alive tonight But nobody's kidding nobody about where it goes I'm sitting down here in the campfire light Searching for the ghost of Tom Joad

I got my finger on the trigger But I don't know who to trust When I look into your eyes There's just devils and dust

Well now his kisses may thrill Those other girls that he likes But when it comes to treatin' A real woman right Well all of his tricks No they won't be enough 'Cause lovin' you baby lovin' you woman Lovin' you darlin' is a man's man's job

There was a woman waiting at the well Drawing water beneath a desert sky of blue She said "He'll heal the blind, raise the dead Cure the sickness out of you"

I been knocking on the door that holds the throne I been looking for the map that leads me home I been stumbling on good hearts turned to stone The road of good intentions has gone dry as a bone

Wherever somebody's fighting for a place to stand Or a decent job or a helping hand Wherever somebody's struggling to be free Look in their eyes, Ma, and you'll see me"

Tell me in a world without pity Do you think what I'm askin's too much? I just want something to hold on to And a little of that human touch

Tell me someone, what's the price I want to buy some time and maybe live my life I want to have a wife, I want to have some kids I want to look in their eyes and know they'll stand a chance

Well, your desires for your sweet confusion I'll walk away then, I don't buy your delusions

She gave me candy stick kisses 'neath a wolf-dog moon One sweet breath and she'll take you, mister, to the upper room I was burned by the angels, sold wings of lead Then I fell in the roses and sweet salvation of Maria's bed

It's a fairytale so tragic There's no prince to break the spell I don't believe in magic But for you, I will

Now a life of leisure and a pirate's treasure Don't make much for tragedy But it's a sad man my friend who's livin' in his own skin And can't stand the company. Every fool's got a reason for feelin' sorry for himself And turning his heart to stone Tonight this fool's halfway to heaven and just a mile outta hell And I feel like I'm comin' home

Is it the sound of the leaves left blown by the wayside That's got me out here on this spooky old highway tonight Is it the cry of the river with the moonlight shining through That ain't what scares me baby, what scares me is losing you

Darlin' give me your kiss Come and take my hand I am the nothing man

Now there's a loss that can never be replaced A destination that can never be reached A light you'll never find in another's face A sea whose distance cannot be breached

They destroyed our families, factories And they took our homes They left our bodies on the plains The vultures picked our bones

Like a thief on Sunday morning It all falls apart with no warning

I got the fortunes of heaven in diamonds and gold I got all the bonds baby that the bank could hold I got houses 'cross the country honey end to end And everybody buddy wants to be my friend Well I got all the riches baby any man ever knew But the only thing I ain't got, honey, I ain't got you

Gray morning light spits through the shade Another day older, closer to the grave Closer to the grave and come the dawn I woke up this morning shackled and drawn

Now you play the loving woman, I'll play the faithful man But just don't look too close into the palm of my hand Well we stood at the alter, the gypsy swore our future was right But come the wee wee hours maybe baby the gypsy lied

You walk real pretty and you talk real fine But night after night babe I'm on the line

I'm counting on a miracle

Dancing down a dark hole Just searching for a world with some soul

Gambling man rolls the dice, workingman pays the bill It's still fat and easy up on banker's hill Up on banker's hill, the party's going strong Down here below we're shackled and drawn

Well, Jesus kissed his mother's hands Whispered, "Mother, still your tears For remember the soul of the universe Willed a world and it appeared

Come to the door, Ma, and unlock the chain I was just passing through and got caught in the rain There's nothing that I want, nothing that you need say Just let me lie down for a while and I'll be on my way

Your world keeps turning round and round But everything is upside down Your own worst enemy has come to town

Shackled and drawn, shackled and drawn Pick up the rock son, carry it on What's a poor boy to do in a world gone wrong? I woke up this morning shackled and drawn

And though my heart's grown weary And more than a little bit shy Tonight I'll drink from her waters to quench my thirst And leave the angels to worry With every wish

Rode through forty nights of the gospels' rain Black sky pourin' snakes frogs And love in vain You were down where the river grows wider Baby let me be your soul driver

Don't worry, darling No baby, don't you fret We're living in the future And none of this has happened yet

There's a lot of talk going around you Let them talk, you know you're the only one There's a lot of walls need tearing down Together we could take them down one by one

I could smell the same deep green of summer Above me the same night sky was glowing In the distance I could see the town where I was born

Oh feelin' like a real man I ain't no fighter that's easy to see And as a lover I ain't goin' down in history But when the lights go down and you pull me close Well I look in your eyes and there's one thing I know Baby I'll be tough enough If I can find the guts to give you all my love Then I'll be feelin' like a real man

I hold you in my arms as the band plays What are those words whispered baby just as you turn away I saw you last night out on the edge of town I wanna read your mind to know just what I've got in this new thing I've found

Maybe I'm just a clown throwin' down Lookin' to come up busted I'm a thief in the house of love And I can't be trusted Well I'll be makin' my heist In just another roll of the dice

Now I see your pieces crumbled, and our book of faith's been tossed And I'm just down here searching for my own piece of the cross

Pockets full of dust, my mouth filled with cool stone The pale moon opens the earth to its bones

raise your hand And together we'll walk into Canaan land

On the plains of Jordan I cut my bow from the wood Of this tree of evil Of this tree of good

Well my soul checked out missing as I sat listening To the hours and minutes tickin' away Yeah just sittin' around waitin' for my life to begin While it was all just slippin' away I'm tired of waitin' for tomorrow to come Or that train to come roarin' 'round the bend I got a new suit of clothes a pretty red rose And a woman I can call my friend

From a house on a hill a sacred light shines I walk through these rooms but none of them are mine Down empty hallways I went from door to door Searching for my beautiful reward

A little sweet talk to cover over all of the lies You came runnin' back but to my surprise Well there was somethin' gone in Gloria's eyes

Last night I stood at your doorstep Tryna figure out what went wrong You just slipped something into my palm, and you were gone

I sink beneath the river cool and clear Drifting down, I disappear I see you on the other side I search for the peace in your eyes

I had some victory that was just failure in deceit Now the joke's comin' up through the soles of my feet I been a long time walking on fortune's cane Tonight I'm sleepin' lightly and feelin' no pain

Better ask questions before you shoot Deceit and betrayal's a bitter fruit It's hard to swallow, come time to pay That taste on your tongue don't easily slip away Thy kingdom come, I'm going to find my way Yeah, through this lonesome day

Well there in the high trees love's bluebird glides Guiding us 'cross to another river on the other side And there someone is waitin' with a look in her eyes

Oh girl that feeling of safety you prize Well it comes with a hard hard price You can't shut off the risk and pain Without losin' the love that remains We're all riders on this train

I walk this road, with a hammer and a fiery lantern With this hand I've built, and with this I've burned I wanna live in the same house, beneath the same roof Sleep in the same bed, search for the same proof As Leah

I built a shrine in my heart it wasn't pretty to see Made out of fool's gold memory and tears cried Now I'm heading over the rise I'm searching for one clear moment of love and truth I still got a little faith But what I need is some proof tonight I'm lookin' for it in your eyes

I been out in the desert, yeah, doing my time Sifting through the dust for fool's gold, looking for a sign Holy man said "Hold on, brother, there's a light up ahead" Ain't nothing like a light that shines on me in Maria's bed

They say if you die in your dreams, you really die in your bed But honey last night I dreamed my eyes rolled straight back in my head And God's light came shinin' on through I woke up in the darkness scared and breathin' and born anew It wasn't the cold river bottom I felt rushing over me It wasn't the bitterness of a dream that didn't come true It wasn't the wind in the grey fields I felt rushing through my arms No no baby, baby it was you

Now if you're lookin' for a hero Someone to save the day Well darlin' my feet They're made of clay But I've got somethin' in my soul And I wanna give it up But gettin' up the nerve Gettin' up the nerve Gettin' up the nerve is a man's man's job

If the sun should fall from the sky tomorrow If the rain brings the tears to your eye, I would share your sorrow

I've stumbled and I know I made my mistakes But tonight I'm gonna be playin' for all of the stakes

Well, no cannonball did fly, no rifles cut us down No bombs fell from the sky, no blood soaked the ground No powder flash blinded the eye No deathly thunder sounded But just as sure as the hand of God They brought death to my hometown

With these hands We pray for the strength, Lord

On the road to Basra stood young Lieutenant Jimmy Bly Detailed to go through the clothes of the soldiers who died At night in dreams he sees their souls rise Like dark geese into the Oklahoma skies

Well your hair shone in the sun I was so high I was the lucky one Then I came crashing down like a drunk on a barroom floor Searching for my beautiful reward

I'll mow your lawn, clean the leaves out your drain I'll mend your roof to keep out the rain I'll take the work that God provides I'm a Jack of all trades, honey, we'll be alright

Past the playgrounds and empty switching yards The turtles eat the skin from your eyes, so they lay open to the stars

Me and my girl Saturday night Late movie on channel five The girls were droppin' they're droppin' like flies To some smooth talkin' cool walkin' private eye I ain't got no nerves of steel But all I got to know is if your love is real

Sleeping beauty awakes from her dream With her lover's kiss on her lips Your kiss was taken from me Now all I have is this

I put my heart and soul I put 'em high upon a shelf Right next to the faith the faith that I'd lost in myself I went down into the desert city Just tryin' so hard to shed my skin I crawled deep into some kind of darkness Lookin' to burn out every trace of who I'd been You do some sad sad things baby When it's you you're tryin' to lose You do some sad and hurtful things I've seen living proof

It was dark, too dark to see You held me in the light you gave You lay your hand on me Then walked into the darkness of your smoky grave

My life's the same story Again and again I' m on the outside looking in

My ship Liberty sailed away On a bloody red horizon The groundskeeper opened the gates And let the wild dogs run

Now you were the Red Sea I was Moses I kissed you and slipped into a bed of roses The waters parted and love rushed inside I was Jesus' son sanctified

Now the sweet bells of mercy Drift through the evening trees Young men on the corner Like scattered leaves

Around here everybody acts the same Around here everybody acts like nothing's changed

Oh there's somethin' in your soul That he's gonna rob And lovin' you baby lovin' you darlin' Lovin' you woman is a man's man's job

Well now all that's sure on the boulevard Is that life is just a house of cards As fragile as each and every breath Of this boy sleepin' in our bed

He pulls a prayer book out of his sleeping bag Preacher lights up a butt and he takes a drag Waiting for when the last shall be first and the first shall be last In a cardboard box 'neath the underpass

Now the world is filled with many wonders under the passing sun And sometimes something comes along, and you know it's for sure the only one The Mona Lisa, the David, the Sistine Chapel, Jesus, Mary, and Joe And when they built you, brother, they broke the mold

You said my act was funny but we both knew what was missing, honey

Tonight I can feel the cold wind at my back I'm flying high over gray fields my feathers long and black Down along the river's silent edge I soar Searching for my beautiful reward

Now get yourself a song to sing and sing it till you're done Sing it hard and sing it well Send the robber barons straight to hell

I'm just a lonely pilgrim, I walk this world in wealth I want to know if it's you I don't trust 'cause I damn sure don't trust myself

This is radio nowhere Is there anybody alive out there?

All over the world the rain was pourin' I was scratchin' where it itched Oh heartbreak and despair got nothing but boring So I grabbed you baby like a wild pitch

Tonight our bed is cold, I'm lost in the darkness of our love God have mercy on the man who doubts what he's sure of

Well I've been a losin' gambler Just throwin' snake eyes Love ain't got me downhearted I know up around the corner lies My fool's paradise In just another roll of the dice

The Virginia hills have gone to brown Another day, another sun going down I visit you in another dream

When they built you, brother, they turned dust into gold When they built you, brother, they broke the mold

It's coming on closing time Bartender, he's ringin' last call These days I don't stand on pride I ain't afraid to take a fall

They say you can't take it with you, but I think that they're wrong Because all I know is I woke up this morning, and something big was gone Gone into that dark ether where you're still young and hard and cold Just like when they built you, brother, they broke the mold

You'll be fine long as your pretty face holds out Then it's going to get pretty cold out

You and me we were the pretenders We let it all slip away In the end what you don't surrender Well the world just strips away

So when you look at me you better look hard and look twice Is that me baby or just a brilliant disguise

You can't sleep at night You can't dream your dream Your fingerprints on file Left clumsily at the scene

On his right hand, Billy'd tattooed the word "love", on his left hand was the word "fear" And in which hand he held his fate was never clear Come Indian summer, he took his young lover for his bride And with his own hands built her a great house down by the riverside

We've got God on our side We're just trying to survive What if what you do to survive Kills the things you love

Now my ass was draggin' when from a passin' gypsy wagon Your heart like a diamond shone Tonight I'm layin' in your arms carvin' lucky charms Out of these hard luck bones

It'll take your God-filled soul Fill it with devils and dust

I'm driving a big lazy car rushin' up the highway in the dark I got one hand steady on the wheel and one hand's tremblin' over my heart It's pounding baby like it's gonna bust right on through And it ain't gonna stop till I'm alone again with you

For all the blown-off strangers and hot rod angels Stumbling through this promised land Tonight my baby and me we're gonna ride to the sea And wash these sins off our hands

But they're as empty as paradise

Quiet afternoon in the empty house On the edge of the bed, you slip off your blouse The room is burning with the noon sun Your bittersweet taste on my tongue

Well now our old fears and failures, oh baby, they do linger Like the shadow of that ring that was on your finger

Well by Our Lady Of The Roses we lived in the shadow of the elms I remember ma dragging me and my sister up the street to the church whenever she heard those wedding bells Well would they ever look so happy again yeah the handsome groom and his bride As they stepped into that long black limousine for their mystery ride Well tonight you step away from me and alone at the alter I stand As I watch my bride coming down the aisle I pray for the strength to walk like a man

You got a one-way ticket to the promised land You got a hole in your belly and a gun in your hand Sleeping on a pillow of solid rock Bathing in the city's aqueduct

You might need somethin' to hold on to When all the answers they don't amount to much Somebody that you can just talk to And a little of that human touch

Easy street, a quick buck, and true lies Smiles as thin as those dusky blue skies

I'm running through the forest With this wolf at my heels My king is lost at midnight When the tower bells peal

Forty-one shots and we'll take that ride Across the bloody river to the other side Forty-one shots cut through the night You're kneeling over his body in the vestibule Praying for his life

Let your mind rest easy Sleep well my friend It's only our bodies that betray us in the end

Well now the years have gone and I've grown yeah from that seed you've sown But I didn't think there'd been so many steps I'd have to learn on my own Well I was young and I didn't know what to do when I saw your best steps stolen away from you Now I'll do what I can, I'll walk like a man And I'll keep on walking

I got a house full of Rembrandt and priceless art And all the little girls, they wanna tear me apart When I walk down the street, people stop and stare Well, you'd think I might be thrilled but baby I don't care 'Cause I got more good luck honey than old King Farouk But the only thing I ain't got, baby, I ain't got you

Coming from the city, coming from the wild I see a breathless army breaking like a cloud They're going to smother love, they're going to shoot your hopes Before the meek inherit they'll learn to hate themselves

Got on a dead man's suit and a smiling skull ring Lucky graveyard boots and a song to sing I keep my heart in my work, my troubles in my head And I keep my soul in Maria's bed

"Every cloud has a silver lining, every dog has his day" She said "Now don't say nothing If you don't have something nice to say

Now Billy was an honest man, he wanted to do what was right He worked hard to fill their lives with happy days and loving night Alone on his knees in the darkness for steadiness he'd pray For he knew in a restless heart the seed of betrayal lay

Whose blood will spill, whose heart will break Who'll be the last to die for a mistake

Well I awoke last night in the dark and dreamy deep From my head to my feet my body's gone stone cold There were worms crawling all around me My fingers scratching at an earth black and six foot low Alone in the blackness of my grave Alone I'd been left to die Then I heard voices calling all around me The earth rose above me My eyes filled with sky

Plastics, wire and your kiss The breath of eternity on your lips

For a while you'll go sparkling by Just another pretty thing on high

Don't know when this chance might come again Good times got a way of coming to an end

I search for you on the other side Where the river runs clean and wide Up to my heart, the waters rise

Hell's brewing, dark sun's on the rise This storm will blow through, by and by House is on fire, vipers in the grass Little revenge and this too shall pass This too shall pass, darling, yeah I'm going to pray Right now, all I got is this lonesome day

I love to see your hair shining In the long summer's light I love to watch the stars fill the sky On a summer night The music plays you take his hand I watch how you touch him as you start to dance And I wish I were blind When I see you with your man

Rising from a long night as dark as the grave On a thin chain of next moments and something like faith

Ain't no church bells ringing Ain't no flags unfurled Just me and you and the love we're bringing Into the real world

A silver plate of pearls, my golden child It's all yours, at least for a little while

I got a picture of you in my locket I keep it close to my heart This light shining in my breast Leading me through the dark

The times, they got too clear So you removed all the mirrors Once the family felt secure Now no one's very sure

I've got my finger on the trigger And tonight faith just ain't enough When I look inside my heart There's just devils and dust

I feel my soul waist deep and sinking Into this black river of doubt

Where the road is dark and the seed is sowed Where the gun is cocked and the bullet's cold Where the miles are marked in blood and gold I'll meet you further on up the road

In the garden at Gethsemane He prayed for the life he'd never live He beseeched his Heavenly Father to remove The cup of death from his lips

I love to see the cottonwood blossom In the early spring I love to see the message of love That the bluebird brings But when I see you walkin' with him Down along the strand I wish I were blind When I see you with your man

I hold you in my arms, yeah that's when it starts I seek faith in your kiss and comfort in your heart Taste the seed upon your lips, lay my tongue upon your scars When I look into your eyes and we stand worlds apart

Now's there's tears on the pillow, darling, where we slept And you took my heart when you left Without your sweet kiss my soul is lost, my friend Tell me how do I begin again?

May your strength give us strength May your faith give us faith May your hope give us hope May your love give us love

We took the highway till the road went black We marked 'Truth Or Consequences' on our map

We'll let blood build a bridge over mountains draped in stars I'll meet you on the ridge between these worlds apart We've got this moment now to live, then it's all just dust and dark Let's let love give what it gives

Now no one knows which way love's wheel turns Will we hit it rich Or crash and burn Does fortune wait or just the black hand of fate This love potion's all we've got One toast before it's too late

And the things of the earth, they make their claim That the things of heaven may do the same

God's drifting in heaven, devil's in the mailbox I got dust on my shoes, nothing but teardrops

I got a pound of caviar sitting home on ice I got a fancy foreign car that rides like paradise I got a hundred pretty women knockin' down my door And folks wanna kiss me I ain't even seen before I been around the world and all across the seven seas Been paid a king's ransom for doin' what comes naturally But I'm still the biggest fool, honey, this world ever knew 'Cause the only thing I ain't got, baby, I ain't got you

But love is a power greater than death, just like the songs and stories told And when she built you, brother, she broke the mold

Well, big wheels roll through fields where sunlight streams Meet me in a land of hope and dreams

Alone I limp through town A lost cowboy at sundown Got my monkey on a leash Got my ear tuned to the ground My faith's been torn asunder Tell me is that rolling thunder Or just the sinking sound Of something righteous going under

Men walking 'long the railroad tracks Going someplace, there's no going back Highway patrol choppers coming up over the ridge Hot soup on a campfire under the bridge Shelter line stretching 'round the corner Welcome to the new world order Families sleeping in the cars in the southwest No home, no job, no peace, no rest

Sometimes the truth just ain't enough Or is it too much in times like this Let's throw the truth away, we'll find it in this kiss In your skin upon my skin in the beating of our hearts May the living let us in before the dead tear us apart

So hold me close honey, say you're forever mine And tell me you'll be my lonely valentine

There's spirits above and behind me Faces gone black, eyes burning bright May their precious blood bind me Lord, as I stand before your fiery light

Girl ain't no kindness in the face of strangers Ain't gonna find no miracles here Well you can wait on your blessings darlin' But I got a deal for you right here

Familiar faces around me Laughter fills the air Your loving grace surrounds me Everybody's here Furniture's out on the front porch Music's up loud I dream of you in my arms I lose myself in the crowd

Woke up election day Sky's gunpowder and shades of grey Beneath the dirty sun I whistle my time away Then just about sundown You come walking through town Your boot heels clicking like The barrel of a pistol spinning round

Well, it ain't no secret I've been around a time or two Well, I don't know baby maybe you've been around too Well, there's another dance All you gotta do is say yes And if you're rough and ready for love Honey, I'm tougher than the rest

The fuse is burning Shut out the lights The fuse is burning Come on let me do you right

When I look at myself I don't see The man I wanted to be Somewhere 'long the line I slipped off track I'm caught moving one step up and two steps back

Days just keep on falling Your voice it keeps on calling I'm going to dig right here until I get you back

I was driving through the misty rain Just a-searching for a mystery train Bopping through the wild blue Trying to make a connection with you

It's been a long long drought baby Tonight the rain's pourin' down on our roof Looking for a little bit of God's mercy I found living proof

I always loved the feel of sweat on my shirt Stand back son and let a man work

Well, it's Saturday night You're all dressed up in blue I been watching you awhile Maybe you been watching me, too So somebody ran out Left somebody's heart in a mess Well, if you're looking for love Honey, I'm tougher than the rest

It's been a long time coming, my dear It's been a long time coming, but now it's here

It takes a leap of faith to get things going It takes a leap of faith you gotta show some guts It takes a leap of faith to get things going In your heart you must trust

Fear's a powerful thing, baby It can turn your heart black, you can trust It'll take your God-filled soul And fill it with devils and dust

Well above the stars they crackle and fire A dead man's moon throws seven rings We'd put our ears to the cold grave stones This is the song they'd sing

A letter come blowing in On an ill wind Something about me and you Never seeing one another again And what I knew had come Stars struck deaf and dumb Like when we kissed That taste of blood on your tongue

The sun sets in flames as the city burns Another day gone down as the night turns And I hold you here in my heart As things fall apart

Now the ritual begins 'Neath the wedding garland we meet as strangers The dance floor is alive with beauty Mystery and danger We dance out 'neath the stars' ancient light into the darkening trees Oh won't you baby be in my book of dreams

For you I'll build a house High upon a grassy hill Somewhere across the border Where pain and memory Pain and memory have been stilled There, across the border And sweet blossoms fill the air Pastures of gold and green Roll down into cool clear waters And in your arms beneath open skies I'll kiss the sorrow from your eyes There, across the border

An endless stream of stars shooting by You got your hopes on high

I ain't lookin' for prayers or pity I ain't comin' 'round searchin' for a crutch I just want someone to talk to And a little of that human touch

World peace gonna break out From here on in, we're eating take out

Tonight the moon's looking young but I'm feelin' younger 'Neath a veil of dreams sweet blessings rain Honey I can feel the first breeze of summer And in your love I'm born again

I see you Mary in the garden In the garden of a thousand sighs There's holy pictures of our children Dancing in a sky filled with light

I got a big diamond watch sittin' on my wrist I try to tempt you, baby, but you just resist I made a deal with the devil, babe, I won't deny Until I got you in my arms, I can't be satisfied

And though this world is filled With the grace and beauty of God's hand Oh I wish I were blind When I see you with your man

The sky was falling And streaked with blood I heard you calling me Then you disappeared into the dust

Well, you get so sick of the fighting You lose your fear of the end But I can't lose your memory And the sweet smell of your skin

Love leaves nothin' but shadows and vapor We go on, as is our sad nature, baby

And we're walkin' on the wildside, runnin' down a one way street

You're dancin' with him he's holding you tight I'm standing here waitin' to catch your eye Your hand's on his neck as the music sways All my illusions slip away

If I'm going to live I'll lift my life Darling, to you

The scars we carry remain but the pain slips away it seems Oh won't you baby be in my book of dreams

So listen up, my sonny boy, be ready when they come For they'll be returning sure as the rising sun

I woke up this morning I could barely breathe Just an empty impression In the bed where you used to be I want a kiss from your lips I want an eye for an eye I woke up this morning to an empty sky

The earth, it gave away The sea rose towards the sun I opened up my heart to you It got all damaged and undone

May I feel your arms around me May I feel your blood mix with mine A dream of life comes to me Like a catfish dancing on the end of the line

Now your legs were heaven your breasts were the altar Your body was the holy land You shouted "jump" but my heart faltered You laughted and said "Baby don't you understand?"

I can't sleep so I lay awake listenin' to the sounds of the city below I get dressed and walk the streets but I got nowhere to go

Feelin' like a real man Well you can beat on your chest Hell any monkey can

These days I sit around and laugh At the many rivers I've crossed But on the far banks there's always another forest Where a man can get lost

We struggle here but all our love's in vain Oh these eyes that once filled me with your beauty Now fill me with pain And the light that once entered here Is banished from me And this darkness is all baby that my heart sees

Well if something in the air feels a little unkind Don't worry darlin' It'll slip your mind I'll be your gypsy joker your shotgun rider Baby let me be your soul driver

Well this is a prayer for the souls of the departed Those who've gone and left their babies brokenhearted

I was your big man I was your prince charming King on a white horse hey now look how far I've fallen I tried to trick you yeah but baby you got wise You cut me cut me right right down to size Now I'm just a fool in Gloria's eyes

I been up on sugar mountain, 'cross the sweet blue sea I walked the valley of love and tears and mystery I got run out'a luck and gave myself up for dead And I drank the cool clear waters from Maria's bed

And when that train comes we'll get on board And steal what we can from the treasures treasures of the Lord

A half-drunk beer and your breath in my ear At the Moonlight Motel

American beauty will you be mine Out on this highway counting white lines

And it’s all lies but I’m strung out on the wire In these streets of fire

and it’s one false move and baby the lights go out

And she’s so pretty that you’re lost in the star

And the world is busting at its seams And you’re just a prisoner of your dreams

And you’re in love with all the wonder it brings And every muscle in your body sings as the highway ignites

As you jockey your way through the cars And sit at the light, as it changes to green With your faith in your machine off you scream into the night

At night I wake up with the sheets soaking wet And a freight train running through the middle of my head

At night sometimes it seemed You could hear the whole damn city crying

Barefoot girl sitting on the hood of a Dodge Drinking warm beer in the soft summer rain

Blame it on the lies that killed us, Blame it on the truth that ran us down

But all her pretty dreams are torn, She stares off alone into the night

But I ride by night and I travel in fear That in this darkness I will disappear

But they said, “Johnny, it falls apart so easily, and you know hearts these days are cheap”

But tonight you’re gonna break on through to the inside

But your eyes go blind and your blood runs cold

Calling and calling so cold and alone Shining cross this dark highway where our sins lie unatoned

Dress in the latest rage

Driving all night, chasing some mirage

Eat at your insides and leave you face to face with Streets of fire

Everything dies baby that’s a fact But maybe everything that dies someday comes back

Explode and tear this old town apart Take a knife and cut this pain from my heart

For one kiss, darling I swear everything I would give Cause you’re a walking, talking reason to live

from the dark heart of a dream

From your front porch to my front seat, The door’s open but the ride ain’t free

He tried sellin’ his heart to the hard girls over on Easy Street

I don’t give a damn For the same old played out scenes Baby, I don’t give a damn For just the in-betweens Honey

I hear that whistle whining I feel her kiss in the misty rain And I feel like I’m a rider on a downbound train

I lie awake in the middle of the night Makin’ a list of things that I didn’t do right With you at the top of a long page filled

I see that lonely ribbon in your hair Tell me am I the man for whom you put it there

I took a wrong turn and I just kept going

I walk with angels that have no place

I’m a rolling stone just rolling on Catch me now ‘cause tomorrow I’ll be gone

I’m caught in a cross fire That I don’t understand

I’m twenty five hundred miles from where I wanna be It feels like a hundred years since you’ve been near to me

In this house it’s so easy to set a world on fire, All you need is the need and the money and a soul full of reckless desire

In this house the guilty go unpunished and blood and silence prevail, Here the dead remain nameless, the nameless remain jailed

It’s a long dark highway and a thin white line Connecting baby, your heart to mine, We’re runnin’ now but darlin’ we will stand in time

Just the false taste of paradise and then the fall

Kids flash guitars just like switch-blades

Let your hair down sugar and pick up this beat, Come on and meet me tonight down on Bluebird Street

Like soldiers in the winter’s night with a vow to defend No retreat, baby, no surrender

Lonely-hearted lovers Struggle in dark corners Soul engines running through a night so tender

Man I ain’t getting nowhere I’m just living in a dump like this There’s something happening somewhere baby I just know that there is

My brain takes a vacation just to give my heart more room

My kisses used to turn you inside out

Now the heart’s unsteady, and the night is still All I’ve got’s this melody, and time to kill

Oh-oh come take my hand, We’re riding out tonight to case the promised land, Oh-oh-oh-oh Thunder Road

Outside the street’s on fire In a real death waltz Between what’s flesh and what’s fantasy And the poets down here Don’t write nothing at all They just stand back and let it all be

Radio’s jammed up with talk show stations It’s just talk, talk, talk till you lose your patience

remember last summer drifting through our eyes

Show a little faith there’s magic in the night, You ain’t a beauty but hey you’re alright

So come close my pretty darling and let me feel your disease, Tonight I’ll have you naked and crawling at the end of my leash

So you fell for some jerk who was tall, dark and handsome Then he kidnapped your heart and now he’s holdin’ it for ransom

Sometimes it’s like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull And cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my skull

Standing in that doorway like a dream

Talk about a dream Try to make it real You wake up in the night With a fear so real

That secret pact you made Back when her love could save you From the bitterness

That thunder in your heart At night when you’re kneeling in the dark It says you’re never gonna leave her But there’s this angel in her eyes That tells such desperate lies And all you want to do is believe her

The book of love holds its rules Disobeyed by fools

The hungry and the hunted Explode into rock'n'roll bands That face off against each other out in the street Down in Jungleland

The rat traps filled with soul crusaders, The circuits lined and jammed with chromed invaders

The screen door slams, Mary’s dress waves Like a vision, she dances across the porch As the radio plays Roy Orbison singing for the lonely, Hey that’s me and I want you only

The teenage tramps in skin-tight pants do the E Street dance

There were ghosts in the eyes Of all the boys you sent away, They haunt this dusty beach road In the skeleton frames of burned-out Chevrolets.

There’s a darkness on the edge of town

there’s a joke here somewhere and it’s on me

There’s a war outside still raging You say it ain’t ours anymore to win

Theres a sadness hidden in that pretty face, a sadness all her own, from which no man can keep Candy safe

These days you don’t wait on Romeo’s you wait on that welfare check

They say in the end true love prevails But in the end true love can’t be no fairytale

They say you gotta stay hungry hey baby I’m just about starving tonight

They scream your name at night in the street, Your graduation gown lies in rags at their feet, And in the lonely cool before dawn, You hear their engines roaring on, When you get to the porch they’re gone On the wind

True love is broken and your tears are fallin’ faster You’re sufferin’ from a pain in your heart or some other natural disaster

Two hearts are better than one, Two hearts girl get the job done

Waiting for the bells that ring In the deep heart of the night

Waste your summer praying in vain, For a saviour to rise from these streets

We got married, and swore we’d never part Then little by little we drifted from each other’s hearts

We got one last chance to make it real, To trade in these wings on some wheels, Climb in back, Heaven’s waiting down on the tracks

We kiss, my hearts pumpin to my brain the blood rushes in my veins, when I touch Candys lips, We go driving, driving deep into the night, I go driving deep into the light, in Candys eyes

We shut ‘em up and than we shut ‘em down

we’re gonna ride to the sea And wash these sins off our hands.

Well I saw you last night down on the avenue Your face was in the shadows but I knew that it was you You were standin’ in the doorway out of the rain You didn’t answer when I called out your name You just turned, and then you looked away like just another stranger waitin’ to get blown away

Well the night’s busting open, These two lanes will take us anywhere

Well, everybody’s got a secret, Sonny, Something that they just can’t face, Some folks spend their whole lives trying to keep it, They carry it with them every step that they take.

Well, I believe in the love that you gave me I believe in the faith that can save me

Where we swore forever friends On the backstreets until the end

With a love so hard and filled with defeat

With her long hair falling And her eyes that shine like a midnight sun Oh she’s the one

Words were passed in a shotgun blast

You can hide 'neath your covers, And study your pain, Make crosses from your lovers, Throw roses in the rain

You can’t judge an apple by looking at a tree, You can’t judge honey by looking at the bee, You can’t judge a daughter by looking at the mother, You can’t judge a book by looking at the cover

You don’t have to call me lieutenant, Rosie, and I don’t want to be your son

You end up like a dog that’s been beat too much Till you spend half your life just covering up

You inherit the sins, you inherit the flames, Adam raised a Cain

You know it’s never over, it’s relentless as the rain, Daddy worked his whole life, for nothing but the pain

You never smile girl, you never speak You just walk on by, darlin’, week after week

You pulled my jacket off and as the drummer counted four You grabbed my hand and pulled me out on the floor You just stood there and held me, then you started dancin’ slow And as I pulled you tighter I swore I’d never let you go

You sit and wonder just who’s gonna stop the rain Who’ll ease the sadness, who’s gonna quiet the pain

You wake up and you’re dying you don’t even know what from

You walk cool, but darlin’, can you walk the

You walk too far, you walk away Hello sunshine, won’t you stay

I thought I knew just who I was And what I’d do but I was wrong One minute you’re here Next minute you’re gone

Footsteps cracklin’ on a gravel road Stars vanish in a sky as black as stone

In the afternoon 'neath the summer sun We’d lie by the lake till the evening comes I run my fingers through your sun-streaked hair Baby, that’s the power of prayer

It’s a fixed game without any rules An empty table on a ship of fools I’m holding hearts, I’ll play the pair Darling, it’s just the power of prayer

I’m holding hearts, I’ll play the pair I’m goin’ all in 'cause I don’t care

I’m reaching for heaven, we’ll make it there

Zero’s my number, time is my hunter I wanted you to heal me but instead you set me on fire We were out over the borders, I washed you in holy water We whispered our black prayers and rose up in flames Take me on your burnin’ train

White sun burnin’, black wings beatin’

With our shared faith Rising dark and decayed Take me and shake me from this mortal cage

On your bed of thorns, I brought you shining gifts Wiped the sweat from your brow and I touched your lips Sheets stained with sweat, outside the endless rain Darlin’, I’m blessed in your blood and marked by Cain

Tried to summon all that my heart finds true And send it in my letter to you

Things I found out through hard times and good I wrote 'em all out in ink and blood Dug deep in my soul and signed my name true And sent it in my letter to you

I took all the sunshine and rain All my happiness and all my pain The dark evening stars and the morning sky of blue And I sent it in my letter to you

There’s a light on yonder mountain And it’s calling me to shine There’s a girl over by the water fountain And she’s asking to be mine

Well sweet Virgin Mary runs the Holy Grail saloon Well for a nickel she’ll give you whiskey and a personally blessed balloon

And the Holy Ghost is the host with the most, he runs the burlesque show Where they’ll let you in for free and they hit you when you go

Mary serving Mass on Sunday and she sells her body on Monday To the bootlegger who paid the highest price He don’t know he got stuck with a loser, she’s a stone junkie what’s more she’s a user She’s only been made once or twice by some kind of magic

If Jesus was a sheriff and I were a priest If my lady was an heiress and my Mama was a thief And Papa rode shotgun on the Fargo line There’s still too many outlaws trying to work the same line

Well things ain’t been the same in heaven since Big Bad Bobby came to town He’s been known to down eleven, then ask for another round

Me I’ve got scabs on my knees from kneeling way too long It’s about time I played the man, took a stand where I belong

And I forget about the old friends and the old times There’s just too many new boys trying to work the same line

Hands raised to Yahweh to bring the rain down He comes crawlin’ 'cross the dry fields like a dark shroud

Rainmaker, a little faith for hire Rainmaker, the house is on fire Rainmaker, take everything you have Sometimes folks need to believe in something so bad, so bad,

Rainmaker says white’s black and black’s white Says night’s day and day’s night Says close your eyes and go to sleep now I’m in a burnin’ field unloadin’ buckshot into low clouds

The blood moon shines across the vale Bells ring out through churches and jails I tally my wounds and count the scars Here in the house of a thousand guitars

The criminal clown has stolen the throne He steals what he can never own May the truth ring out from every small-town bar We’ll light up the house of a thousand guitars

Here the bitter and the bored Wake in search of the lost chord That’ll band us together for as long as there’s stars Here in the house of a thousand guitars

So wake and shake off your troubles, my friend We’ll go where the music never ends From the stadiums to the small-town bars We’ll light up the house of a thousand guitars

The road is long and seeming without end The days go on, I remember you my friend And though you’re gone and my heart’s been emptied it seems I’ll see you in my dreams

I’ll see you in my dreams when all our summers have come to an end I’ll see you in my dreams, we’ll meet and live and laugh again I’ll see you in my dreams, yeah around the river bend For death is not the end

Well how many wasted have I seen signed “Hollywood or bust” And left to ride the ever ghostly Arizona gusts Cheerleader tramps and kids with big amps sounding in the void High society vamps, ex-heavyweight champs mistaking soot for soil

Well sons they search for fathers, but the fathers are all gone The lost souls search for saviors, but saviors don’t last long

Those aimless questless renegade brats who live their lives in song They run the length of a candle, with a goodnight whisper and they’re gone

Believe me my good Linda, the aurora will shine the way

Those orphans jumped on silver mountains lost in celestial alleyways They wait for that old tramp Dog Man Moses, he takes in all the strays

Now don’t you grow on empty legends or lonely cradle songs Billy the Kid was just a bowery boy who made a living twirling his guns

The night she’s long and lanky and she speaks in a mother tongue She lullabies the refugees with amplifier’s hum

I hear the sound of your guitar Comin’ in from the mystic far Stone and the gravel in your voice Come in my dreams and I rejoice

It’s your ghost Moving through the night Spirit filled with light

Count the band in then kick into overdrive By the end of the set we leave no one alive

I shoulder your Les Paul and finger the fretboard I make my vows to those who’ve come before I turn up the volume, let the spirits be my guide Meet you brother and sister on the other side

All the redemption I can offer girl Is beneath this dirty hood

#bruce springsteen #springsteen

14 notes · View notes

escape-from-reality-fics · 3 years

Text

The Accidental Revelation ❋ E-Chan

↳ Pairing: Lee Changmin (E-Chan)/Reader

↳ Word Count: 3,739

⁙ Summary: You and Changmin go to a party to celebrate your friends recent successes. It doesn’t exactly go as planned when a secret gets revealed during a fight

⚠️ Warnings: Contains cursing, fighting, mentions of body image and a brief mention of some adult themes. Please do not read if you are triggered by any of these!

“I’m so excited!~” You can’t help but squeal, wiggling happily in the passenger seat of your boyfriend’s car. Changmin glanced over at you from his spot behind the steering wheel and chuckled, enjoying your sparkly eyed expression.

“You haven’t seen Kenzie in a while huh? Even though her and Junseo are a thing now,” Changmin mused to himself, smoothly turning the car onto another street, getting closer and closer to your destination.

“It’s because she’s always busy! She told me the last time we spoke that she had like 20 bookings for this month alone and another 15 people wait-listed. Her business is taking off,” you praise her, feeling proud of your best friend for pursuing her dream of being a photographer.

Changmin reaches for your hand, bringing it to his face to leave a sweet peck against your palm. You giggle to yourself, lacing your fingers with his. You turn back to stare out the window, always keen to watch the surroundings fly by in a rush of colors. Your mind was also turning, having found out some very important news just a week ago. You’d found out you’re pregnant and you had no clue how to bring it up to Changmin. This trip would be the perfect distraction from the conflict you were feeling.

Ten minutes later Changmin is pulling to a stop outside of a rustic house, something not very common in South Korea but very much beautiful. The both of you exit the car, stretching your legs from the not-so long, but traffic filled drive. Changmin comes around to your side of the car, putting an arm around your shoulders as you tilt your head back to admire his handsome face.

“How did I manage to get the most handsome man in the world to be my boyfriend huh? I must have done some good deeds in my previous life,” you joke, watching as his mouth splits into a wide grin, leaning down to peck his lips to yours briefly. You sigh wistfully, your eyes slipping closed and feeling like your life was really complete in that moment.

“C’mon my love, we have a party to crash,” Changmin reminds you, as your eyes peeled open, his hand pulling you along. Reaching the front door you leaned forward and knocked, also ringing the doorbell for good measure. A minute or so passed before the door swung open, revealing the figure of your best friend Kenzie.

“AHHHHH! I’m so happy you guys could make it!” She screeched, rushing forward to tackle you into a tight hug. You loudly cackled and hugged her back, tilting her from side to side. Changmin watched the outburst with the air of someone who has seen it countless times, slipping by and heading into the house where you hear shouts of his name.

“Come on in. Everyone else is in the living room playing Uno, but I’m pretty sure Harry-June and Sungmin are in the kitchen raiding the snacks by now. I told them they could only have some once you two arrived,” Kenzie explained, leading the way into her big house. You were well acquainted with the layout having been there times and times before but the size still always took you by surprise.

“Well hello boys!~ Who’s winning? It better be Seongsik because I have a bet with Changmin I am NOT losing,” you laugh, watching as they all whip their heads to where you’re standing.

“Well sad to say (Y/N) but you might be losing that bet. I’ve got the most cards,” Seongsik laughs as you crumple beside Dongil on the couch, pretend groaning in despair. Yuku laughs from where he sits a few feet away and you smile back at the ray of sunshine himself. Turning back, you watch as they continue their game, Heechan being crowned the winner. Changmin returns from the kitchen with Harry-June and Sungmin, the three of them carrying armfuls of chips and chocolates.

“I think some people have already started eating without us. How rude,” you tease, pointing out the chocolate smears on the lips of Sungmin who blushes profusely at being caught. Him and Harry-June settle down on the floor around the coffee table, the huge L shaped couch being filled by everyone else. Changmin shoves Gwanghyun over, taking the spot on your left as the younger boy complains, squeezing closer to Seongsik.

“So now that everyone is here, we have snacks and drinks and the games are set up, are we ready to get this party started?!” Kenzie announces, as everyone cheers, excited for what’s sure to be a fun night.

Kenzie grabs her PS4 controllers, handing them out to whoever wins rock-paper-scissors. The winners end up being Sungmin, Junseo, Changmin and Heechan. They decide to boot up some type of shooting game, becoming immersed fairly quickly.

“Hey (Y/N) did you want to come play Cards Against Humanity with us? Or do you wanna watch the boys play their game?” Seongsik asks, pulling out the big black box and getting it set up on the coffee table.

“Sure but just to warn y’all I’m gonna win,” you say cockily, sliding down from your spot beside Changmin, moving to sit at the coffee table. You swipe up your cards, taking a peek at your options before smirking.

You pass the time by playing the game, occasionally having other boys switch out to play some games on the PS4. Changmin let’s one of the younger boys take his controller, needing a break from shooting computer generated aliens. You’re in the middle of placing a card down when you feel his hands run through your hair, leaning back to further his ministrations.

“Minnie?” You pout, staring up at him with the best puppy dog eyes you could muster, obviously wanting something. He stares back down at you, replicating your pout horribly before whining back.

“Yes (N/N)? What can I do for you?”

“Can you get me cake or chocolate or something? I really want something sweet all of a sudden,” you ask, barely finishing your sentence before he’s standing up and strolling to the kitchen.

“Wow you have him whipped huh?” Gwanghyun teases from beside you, placing his card down and waiting for Harry-June to read them out. Yuku leans over to ask Sungmin what whipped means, nodding his head seriously as the older boy answers.

“He’s not whipped! He’s just being a caring boyfriend is all,” you shove him playfully before letting out a loud whoop at winning the game. Kenzie, Gwanghyun and Heechan all sigh at their respective losses.

“Hey I’m gonna run and grab some drinks from the garage really quick, don’t start the next game without me!” Kenzie warns, grabbing a hold of Junseo as she passes him, basically being voluntold into helping her. The boy himself looks quite smitten however, a blush painted across his cheeks as his girlfriend tugs him away. You stand up from your spot and shake out the numbness in your legs from sitting cross-legged.

“I’m gonna go pee really fast. Be right back,” you inform Harry-June who scrunches his nose up while at your too much information moment. Yuku nods from beside him, giving you a small thumbs up as he shuffles the cards.

Ruffling his hair you stroll to the bathroom and do what you need to do, taking a bit of time in there to freshen up and fix any stray hairs. You barely take 5 minutes in the bathroom, returning quickly to the living room but stopping in your tracks.

On the coffee table is an empty plate, chocolate icing smears present. Kenzie is sitting barely a foot away, licking the exact same icing off a fork. For some unknown reason this fills you with annoyance.

“What’re you eating?” You huff, coming closer to the coffee table but not sitting down quite yet. She looks up at you, eyeing the way your hands are held on your hips and your mouth set in a small frown.

“Oh there was a piece of cake sitting here so I just took the liberty of eating it. I think it was the last piece too but I’m not too sure,” she says, reaching forward on the table to deal herself some cards, before looking back up at you.

“Aren’t you gonna sit down and play another game?”

“I was until someone had to go and eat the cake that was mine,” you respond snootily, arms now crossed over your chest as you shifted your weight to your left hip, something that was a clear tell for you being mad.

“Yours? (Y/N) it was literally just sitting here on the table. No one’s name was on it,” Kenzie rolled her eyes, believing it was silly to be arguing about a slice of cake. That was the final straw for you.

“Are you kidding me, Kenzie? Usually if there is food sitting somewhere and no one is near it you’d at least ask who it belongs to!” You growl angrily, jabbing a finger in her direction. The boys are starting to notice the fight building up, wearily looking between the two of you. It’s Junseo who bites the bullet and tries to calm the both of you down.

“Let’s just take a breath here. Can’t we just get (Y/N) another piece of cake? Problem solved!” Junseo says soothingly, putting himself between you both as Kenzie stands up to meet your fiery gaze. Yuku and Harry-June are nervously glancing between the two of you, not expecting their older sister figures to fight.

“Uh that would be a problem solved if that wasn’t the last piece of chocolate cake,” Changmin whispers into the air, the tension becoming so thick it could be cut with a knife. Kenzie gently pushes Junseo to the side, stepping in front of you and giving you a fake sympathetic smile.

“Maybe if (Y/N) didn’t feel the need to be a fatass all the time we wouldn’t be having this problem. You don’t need to eat shit all the time you know?” Kenzie hisses, pointing at the small amount of chub around your belly, something you were always insecure about.

“Are you being fucking for real right now? I don’t eat like shit all the time. You just have to be a fucking bitch and mess with me!” You seethe, waving an arm at her.

By this point Changmin had also stepped forward, trying and failing to pull you away from the situation. Junseo is doing the same to Kenzie but the both of you refuse to budge. You can see from the corner of your eye the worried expressions and stances of the other boys, preparing for a fight to go down.

“I will actually fucking drag you right now if you don’t shut the fuck up!” Kenzie yells, shoving your shoulder as you stumble back a bit. You steel yourself and give her a good push back, seething in anger.

“Fucking try me, I dare you! You’re too fucking pussy!”

“Oh really?! I’ll fucking drag you across the floor and outta this house! I don’t care that you’re pregnant!” She screams in your face, raising her hand and slapping you harshly as you reel back in shock never expecting her to use that against you as she was the only one you confided in. Everyone around you had gone quiet, expressions varying from shock to surprise. Changmin’s hand loosely wraps around your wrist and you vaguely hear a shocked whisper of the word ‘pregnant’ but you’re too far gone to care.

“Oh it’s fucking on you hoe! I’ll drag you any day whether I’m pregnant or not!” You yell, giving her a harsh punch to the side of her jaw, grabbing her hair for good measure. She retaliates and starts clawing at you as the two of you break into a full on fist fight.

It lasts barely more than 15 seconds before everyone is breaking the two of you up. Junseo and Seongsik drag Kenzie away, taking her in the direction of the kitchen as you notice with triumph that she is sporting a few good scratches and bruises.

Changmin takes this chance to gently lead you away, finding the guest bedroom and sitting you on the fluffy duvet, crossing his arms as he stares down at you with a mix of disappointment and concern.

“She had it coming to her so don’t you go giving me a huge speech about me being in the wrong,” you grumble, crossing your arms but wincing, noticing the scratch marks going down your arm. Changmin notices and sighs, going into the on suite bathroom and wetting a face cloth to clean you up.

“I’m not gonna lecture you sweetheart. I just wanna know what went through your head to start a full on fist fight with your best friend of 17 years… Over a piece of cake?” Changmin asks, pushing away hair from your face that Kenzie had pulled.

“I-I don’t even know honestly. I was just looking forward to that cake and she took it from me. All that I felt was immense anger and she didn’t make it any better by not apologizing,” you murmur, putting your face in your hands as what you’d done settles in. Silence settles heavily into the air, Changmin shifting his weight as he stands crouches in front of you, dabbing at the scratches on your arm.

“What she said…. Is it true? About you, uhm, being pregnant?” Changmin’s hesitant and fragile voice filters through your ears, making your head shoot up to look at him with surprise. You feel your heart thrumming in your chest out of pure nervousness, not knowing whether he would be happy or upset that you were expecting.

“Changmin I-I was going to tell you I swear! I just didn’t know how and I didn’t know if you’d be angry or upset with me. We’re still so young and we aren’t married. Heck, you’re only in the beginning of your career and I haven’t even started mine. I’m just so scared,” you finish in tears, sobs escaping as you hastily try and wipe your eyes.

Changmin doesn’t say anything, instead just gathering you into his arms. You bury your tear soaked face into his chest as he murmurs soothing words, running his hands up and down your back to comfort you.

“I’m definitely not angry. Shocked for sure, but never angry. I sorta wish I was told in a different way as well, but I’m happy! I’m gonna be a dad!” Changmin says, a smile prominent on his lips and happy tears welling in his eyes. You smile back, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a long peck on the lips.

“I’m so thankful to have you be my soulmate,” you murmur against his lips, feeling him pull you closer onto his lap intending to further what you were starting. You were almost on board but stopped and pulled away, feeling the stinging pain on your cheek as a reminder of what just went down.

“As much as I’d love to continue what we were starting, I should probably go see if Kenzie is okay and apologize,” you hum, standing up from Changmin’s lap as he groans, trying to fix his pants to hide the tent that had started forming.

“Fine, but you owe me later,” he grumbles, following you out into the hall as you lace your fingers with his. You giggle at his obvious irritation.

“Don’t worry baby when we get home I’ll make it up to you,” you whisper seductively, cackling at the expression of pure want that flutters across his face. Shaking your head you continue on your way, stepping into the living room moments later.

Most of the boys were all sitting around the TV, playing their video game again and looking up in surprise when you entered the room. You glance around and notice that Kenzie, Junseo and Seongsik aren’t anywhere to be seen.

“Hey (Y/N), are you feeling a bit better now?” Dongil asks gently, wearily eyeing the scratch marks on your arm and reddened hand print on your cheek. Yuku also is staring at you worriedly and you feel bad for setting such a horrible example for the younger boy. Nodding, you give Dongil and Yuku a small, sheepish smile.

“Yeah I’m all good. I sorta need to talk to Kenzie though?” You trail off, feeling everyone's sympathetic stares on you. Heechan nods in the direction of the kitchen, focusing on winning the game. You huff at him but shuffle towards the kitchen anyways, Changmin letting go of your hand to go join the others.

You end up peeking your head around the doorframe of the kitchen, watching Kenzie’s back as she flies around while ordering Seongsik and Junseo to do things for her. Your brows furrowed in confusion as you come out from around the corner, catching Junseo’s eyes as he gives you a small smile.

“Ah I think Seongsik-hyung and I should go see if the others need anything!” Junseo squawks, yanking Seongsik out of the room as the older boy complains. Kenzie goes to protest their retreat before taking notice of you, the words dying on her lips.

“Uh hi,” you say awkwardly, giving a small wave as she eyes you up. Kenzie purses her lips and turns back around to whatever she is doing, making you deflate a little.

“I’m sorry,” you hear come from where she is standing by the counter, furiously mixing something in a large stainless steel bowl. You almost didn’t catch what she said, having to strain your ears to hear her whispered apology.

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I started a fight all because of a stupid slice of cake. And with my friend of 17 years at that,” you chuckle, moving to stand beside her as she looks up at you with tears shining in her eyes.

“I didn’t mean any of what I said. Words just spilled out and I said horrible things. I’m so sorry!” She says remorsefully, wiping a tear that slides down her cheek. Pulling her into a hug you shush her.

“We both said some pretty bad things and even got physical but sometimes shit happens. All we can do is acknowledge it, apologize and move on,” you pull away and hand her a paper towel from the roll on the counter. Kenzie chuckles and dabs at her eyes.

“You’re right of course. Which is why I’m making a whole cake for you and Changmin to take home. I also shouldn’t have outed your pregnancy like that. I knew you were scared to tell him and I still used it against you,” she looks down at her sock covered feet shamefully as you hum.

“Well I would have never found a better way to tell him so at least I have a story we can tell our kid and laugh about,” you tease, pulling a loud laugh from Kenzie who shakes her head in amusement.

“Friends?” You say, reaching a finger into the cake batter on the counter, smearing it across her cheek as she squeals. Kenzie ends up returning the favour, the two of you now matching.

“Friends.”

“Well I guess we should go reassure the boys that we aren’t ripping each other's hair out anymore!” You say cheerfully, watching as Kenzie pops the cake batter into a baking pan and puts it in the oven, setting a timer.

The two of you exit the kitchen, giggling at each other and wiping the cake batter of your faces. The living room had gone strangely silent and you looked up to see everyone wearily watching. Changmin and Junseo are on the edges of their seats, wary about another fight breaking out.

“Don’t worry gentlemen. Kenzie and I have duked it out and we’re all good now!” You say, pulling her into a side hug and giving her a noogie to which she whines at.

“Good cause if I had to break up another fight I would start charging fees,” Gwanghyun mumbles, watching the two of you fondly with a slightly disgruntled expression. Plopping yourself on the couch, you snuggle into Changmin’s side.

“So you’re both good now? No more fights over cake?” He asks, raising an eyebrow mockingly. You hum, putting a finger to your chin as you pretend to think.

“Well there’s no guarantee I won’t punch her if she steals my cake again. We’ll see!” Laughing at their expressions, shaking your head.

“So uh, pretty sure you all heard what Kenzie said earlier and I’m pretty sure you are all eagerly waiting for me to confirm or deny. Yes I am pregnant and yes you will all be uncles. And an aunt,” you announce, watching as all the boys plus Kenzie stand up and start cheering and exclaiming loudly.

“So our kid is gonna have 8 crazy uncles and 1 crazy aunt. I hope they’re prepared,” Changmin cackles, watching his band mates and friends still celebrating.

“And to think, this all happened because of a piece of chocolate cake!”

~17 Years Later~

“So Dad only found out you were pregnant with me because you and Auntie Kenzie had a fist fight over cake?” Your son asks you, watching his Aunts and Uncles chatter and laugh with each other around your spacious backyard.

“Yep! And on the way home I tried suggesting to your Dad to let me name you chocolate cake but he said no, sadly. He said no for your younger brothers as well,” you sigh wistfully, remembering each time you had asked Changmin to let you name at least one of your three children after what you both liked to call “The Accidental Revelation”.

“Mom, I mean this with all respect, but sometimes I don’t know what Dad sees in you,” your youngest son laughs at your offended expression.

“Hey I love your Mom a lot! Even if her choice of baby names is a bit…. Unconventional,” Changmin comments, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and pressing a kiss against your cheek.

“EW NO PDA!” Your middle son yells as he tries to cover his younger brother’s eyes, getting shoved away.

“Maybe we should try for a fourth and finally name them chocolate cake!” You say cheerfully, clasping your hands together as Changmin and your sons stare at you in disbelief.

“NO!”

“Aw man!”

#E-chan #fanfic #reader insert #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #kpop angst #lee changmin x reader #e-chan x reader #dkb scenarios #pregnancy fic #dkb e chan #dkb

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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I Don't Know How I Know (But I Know) (Taywhora) - Ortega

fic summary: Tayce and A’whora have been friends for three years and the joke around school is that they’re joined at the hip. They started working there at the same time and they were both given the year two classes, so they planned together, filled out their assessment folders together and prepped for parent’s evenings together.

Tayce and A’whora have been friends for three years and Tayce has been a little bit in love with her for two of them.

(in which Tayce teaches year five, A'whora teaches Reception, Tayce hates Valentine’s day, and A'whora has a plan to change that.)

a/n: with thanks to my co-author, Lawrence Chaney. title from Intuition by LIZ, please listen to it it’s a vibe. happy valentine’s day everyone xo

***

Tayce has heard people say that teaching is a form of acting. She thinks this is true, for the most part. After all, there’s no way in hell she teaches her year fives the same way she would act around her friends.

She pretends she doesn’t know the TikTok dance to Savage Love and fakes ignorance at the memes her kids all communicate in. She’s impatient with her class when they run in the corridor and chew gum (because they’re almost the oldest in the school, and they should know better) but she’s patient when they struggle with area and perimeter and brings her chair over to sit beside whoever’s confused to explain it all again. She’s strict- she gets the girls passing notes to each other into trouble as if she didn’t do the exact same with her friends at the age of ten- and she’s built up a reputation for being one of the teachers that doesn’t take any shit. She expects a lot from the children she teaches, knows they’re a blank canvas and that they’ve got the potential to understand things that some adults struggle with, so she teaches them about racism, homophobia and transphobia, makes it part of her everyday teaching as opposed to one milquetoast lesson about Martin Luther King per year.

Some of the parents fucking hate her for it. She’d be lying if she said that wasn’t one of her favourite parts of the job.

It takes a lot for her not to drop that persona sometimes. When she has to tear through one of her boys for muttering “ah shit, here we go again” as she hands out a worksheet on direct and indirect speech instead of bursting out laughing as if it’s one of the funniest things she’s heard in years, which it is. It’s times like that when she wishes she could be more like A’whora.

A’whora with the blonde hair and the Disney-princess smile who teaches Reception. A’whora who does silly voices for all the characters when she’s reading picture books to her class and who sits and does colouring-in with them when they’re playing. A’whora who’s too nice to them all because she thinks they’re too cute to discipline, but her class love her so their behaviour is good regardless.

(A’whora with the completely inappropriate nickname only disclosed to Tayce five mojitos deep on the staff Christmas night out, which she’d earned herself at uni via her reputation. Tayce hadn’t asked for any further details.)

Tayce has never seen a teacher better suited to the youngest class in the school than A’whora. She’s constantly got specks of glitter on her face from the crafts she completes with them, she hums the silly little songs she uses to teach them their sounds when she’s at the photocopier without even realising. She turns up to work in immaculate outfits and finishes the day with them covered in glue, marker pen, and even (horrifically) a child’s snot once, but she doesn’t even mind, simply zips them up into little bodybags and puts them in for dry cleaning.

Tayce is never done telling her how she could never do what she does, she could never teach the little ones; her patience would snap, she’s too mean for them, she’d get bored having to teach the most basic of basic stuff. A’whora only ever brushes her off and says how she couldn’t teach Tayce’s year group either; they’d eat her alive, they’d walk all over her, she wouldn’t even be able to do the complicated maths she’d have to teach. Besides, she argues, drawing a glare from Tayce every time, she’s definitely goofy enough for the Reception kids.

Tayce and A’whora have been friends for three years and the joke around school is that they’re joined at the hip. They started working there at the same time and they were both given the year two classes, so they planned together, filled out their assessment folders together and prepped for parent’s evenings together. They worked well together, so when their headteacher sent them to opposite ends of the school Tayce almost had a meltdown. Still, they sit next to each other in the staffroom and at every staff meeting. They take turns making each other lunch every day and walk to the roll shop to get toasties every Friday. Tayce walks down from her classroom to come and sit in A’whora’s at the end of every day and they chat and bitch and sometimes cry and get absolutely nothing done for at least forty minutes. A’whora picks her up on the way to work every morning and terrifies Tayce with her bad driving and the way she almost causes road traffic accidents with only a “whoopsie!” of acknowledgement, but she’ll make up for it by taking them through the Starbucks drive-thru if they’ve got a meeting after school that night. She blasts songs by artists Tayce has never heard of but are all in the same energetic, poppy, Y2K-esque genre that A’whora seems to love.

Tayce and A’whora have been friends for three years and Tayce has been a little bit in love with her for two of them.

***

A’whora’s friends tease her and tell her that teaching five year olds must be the easiest job in the world. A’whora loves her friends, but she fucking resents them when they come out with that shite.

A’whora knows that she herself is not the brightest crayon in the box. She had known that she’d never be one of the girls in her year at high school that went off to study medicine or law, and she’d known she’d never graduate uni with a first class degree or write an award-winning dissertation.

(When she’s having a bad day she comforts herself with the fact that at least she’s not joined a multi-level-marketing scheme under the guise of being a “businesswoman”, and this helps her feel a little better.)

But what she lacks in academic ability she makes up for in spadeloads by being a damn good teacher. She’s big-hearted and silly and patient. She always picks up crisps and KitKats when she’s at the shops and keeps them in a drawer under her desk to sneak to the kids who come to school without a snack. She sits in the construction corner with her kids when they’re playing and asks them about the models they make, and pretends to die a gruesome, slow death when they shoot her with their little lego guns instead of trying to get them to make something less violent like she knows she should do. She reads books about unicorns that captivate the little shy girls in her class who come up to her afterwards and whisper in their tiny voices that they think unicorns are real, and A’whora agrees with them and watches their faces light up. She makes every day fun for her little ones; because the beauty of teaching is having the control to plan what happens every hour, so she makes sure that none of the six they have to spend in her care are boring.

The key to being a good Reception teacher is to essentially make a fool of yourself every day for the benefit of twenty-two four and five year olds, which A’whora has no problem doing. She doesn’t care what her pupil support worker thinks of her when she acts out The Gruffalo with soft toy puppets she borrowed from the library. She doesn’t care what the management team think of her when she turns up for World Book Day dressed as The Tiger Who Came To Tea. The only person’s opinion she does maybe care a tiny, ever-so-slight amount about, is Tayce’s.

Tayce is that teacher. Tayce is the cool teacher. Tayce is the teacher that all the children want to be taught by. A’whora hears the year fours whisper to each other in the corridors every June and watch as they cross their fingers and close their eyes before they open the envelope addressed to their parents, then give a screech of excitement and joy when they see the name Miss Szura-Radix on their class allocation letter. She wears heels all day without so much as a grunt of complaint and jumps in A’whora’s car each morning with a full face of makeup on at half past seven (while A’whora paints her face at quarter past eight at her desk in between shovelling a croissant down her throat in an attempt at ‘breakfast’ and sorting handwriting worksheets). The year five and six girls straighten their hair to a flattened crisp in an attempt to emulate Tayce’s endless shiny locks and she’s the only teacher that the rogue group of year six boys addresses with respect. She has the discipline of Miss Trunchbull with the heart of Miss Honey, and A’whora thinks she’s the best teacher she’s ever seen.

A’whora’s been friends with Tayce since she started working at the school but her heart still flutters in its chest whenever she sweeps in to her classroom to chat after work, or sits herself down next to her before a cluster meeting with two cups of tea in polystyrene mugs and two biscuits, or whenever A’whora mysteriously finds a packet of Percy Pigs on her desk hidden under a pile of marking with a post-it note stuck to it that says “u are a pig (but i love u)”.

She wonders if that feeling will ever go away. She kind of doesn’t want it to.

It’s that feeling that made her volunteer to help out at the year five camp last March. Tayce was complaining about having to go to a remote outdoor centre and supervise ten year olds completing various death-defying tasks for a week all in the name of character building, and A’whora had said she’d go with her. The smile it had put on Tayce’s face was worth every minute spent up to her knees in mud. Similarly every second she spent waist deep in freezing water was worth the moment Tayce fell asleep on her shoulder on the coach trip back to school on the last day.

(And she still hasn’t told anyone else about the moment she thought her heart might explode; on the last night of the week when temperatures had unexpectedly plummeted and A’whora had been trying to get to sleep but all she had been able to do was shiver and chatter her teeth and toss and turn, and Tayce had sighed dramatically, rolled her eyes, thrown off her duvet cover and patted the space in the bed beside her, with a “just get in quick, before it gets cold”. A’whora had spent the following hours until morning with Tayce’s body tangled around hers, in the most blissful sleepless night she’d ever experienced.)

There’s so many things that endear Tayce to A’whora. Her smile, her secretly chaotic funny side, the way she never, ever makes A’whora feel like an idiot. The way she’ll ask the questions A’whora’s too scared to ask in staff meetings. The way she cares so deeply and passionately about the futures of the kids she teaches to the extent where sometimes she’ll develop a little crease at her brow in front of her attainment spreadsheet and A’whora will have to gently pry her away from her monitor to reassure her that she can’t control the way her children’s lives pan out. The way she’ll sometimes call her Rory, which makes A’whora’s heart expand at least three sizes.

Something else that makes her heart expand three sizes is the way Tayce acts with the Reception kids, despite her insisting she could never teach that year group. It happens one day when A’whora’s marking literacy while letting her kids play and Tayce swings by her classroom without so much as a knock. They’ll do this to each other sometimes when one’s in class and the other has planning time; just drop by and check in to make sure the other isn’t having a meltdown.

“Hey bitchtits,” she murmurs quietly, smirking as she leans onto A’whora’s desk. “How’s your day going?”

“Terrible since you decided to show up,” A’whora cocks an eyebrow back, then jerks her head towards her distracted kids. “This lot are like sponges, y’know. You can’t be dropping that kind of language in this class, even if you think you’re out of earshot.”

Tayce sticks her tongue out at her. “Aw what, you gonna report me to management?”

“Report you to management and say you’re in my class annoying me during teaching time!”

“Piss off! I’m the highlight of your day and you know it.”

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“No. Just some very lucky ladies,” Tayce bites back with a smile, instantly rendering A’whora’s cheeks beetroot red as if she’s been slapped.

“You’re horrendous. You’re an actual deviant. Olly Murs without the Pringles can,” she rolls her eyes, trying to style out how flustered she’s become. She can see Tayce open her mouth to shoot a comeback her way, which is why she’s glad when one of her boys appears beside her desk holding a crumpled piece of paper covered in crayon blobs which are clearly meant to represent objects.

“Hi Archie! You okay?” she smiles brightly, turning all her attention to the little boy and trying not to cringe at Tayce getting full view of her Cbeebies-presenter voice.

“I made a picture for you,” he says, showing her the piece of paper and pointing out all the features of his drawing with a chubby little finger. “It’s a dragon that breathes fire and bombs, and he’s called Squish.”

“Wow! Thank you, Archie, I love it!” A’whora keeps smiling, blinking at the drawing the boy’s still holding. She points at some shaky rectangles with a pink acrylic. “And I can see he must be really tall because those buildings are tiny underneath him!”

Archie’s no longer interested in her or the drawing, though, as he’s looking up at Tayce through his glasses. “You’re my brother’s teacher.”

“Am I?” Tayce says, surprised that the attention is suddenly on her. “Who’s your brother?”

“Joshua. Joshua White.”

Tayce’s face instantly lights up in recognition. “Of course, you’re Josh’s brother! I should’ve known, you look so alike.”

“He’s ten and I’m five,” Archie adds, somewhat unnecessarily.

“See, I think you might be taller than him, though,” Tayce deadpans. A’whora watches affectionately as Archie’s entire body crumples up in a laugh and he splutters out a “nooooo!”. Tayce’s face breaks out into a smile- warm and genuine with her nose wrinkling up. It’s maybe the most adorable thing A’whora has ever seen.

“Josh is good at art as well. He’s not quite as good as you, but he’s good,” Tayce smiles, and as Archie smiles back A’whora feels her heart melting.

Archie turns to Tayce suddenly with the drawing still in his hand, and holds it out for her to take. “This is actually for you.”

A’whora gives a snort of outrage and amusement, which she quickly turns into a cough. She watches as Tayce accepts the drawing gratefully, giving Archie a little squeeze on his shoulder as she says thank you and Archie scuttles away back to his friends all bashful. There’s a second where Tayce smiles after him then looks down at the drawing with fondness, and A’whora’s feelings for her hit her like a tidal wave.

Tayce doesn’t notice (because of course she doesn’t) and as she straightens up she grins triumphantly at A’whora, holding the drawing in her face proudly. “Well. Guess Archie’s got a new favourite teacher then, doesn’t he?”

“He wouldn’t last five minutes in your classroom,” A’whora smirks, lying. The image of big-hearted Tayce with a class full of the littlest kids drying their tears and helping them get all organised for the day ahead is so unbelievably cute it makes A’whora want to squeal like an embarrassing teenager. She doesn’t, though. Instead she holds out a hand expectantly, raises her eyebrows at Tayce as if she’s one of her students. “Am I getting my drawing back or what?”

“Easy come, easy go,” Tayce winks at her, flouncing out of her classroom door just as the bell rings for break.

***

Tayce doesn’t really flirt with A’whora. Well, no, that’s a lie. She flirts and then immediately laughs it off, brushes it off as a joke or banter even though maybe if she’d taken flirting with A’whora a little more seriously she wouldn’t still be in this position two-bloody-years in.

Because she knows A’whora flirts sometimes. She’s positive she isn’t making it up. The way she’ll deadpan a “well, you look like shit” as she hops into her car in the mornings, the way she’ll sit close to her under her fluffy pink blanket if she’s round at Tayce’s for a movie day (because yeah, they hang out outside of work, because that’s what friends do). It’s always a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it raised eyebrow here, a laugh there, a touch of her arm and a squeeze of her hand and a smirk that bites back a thousand words Tayce wishes A’whora would just say.

So Tayce will flirt back because that’s probably just what A’whora does with her friends, and that’s all Tayce is to her. Maybe. Tayce is never sure if A’whora likes her back or not, and the risk of completely wrecking what is her only workplace friendship is too great to actually do something about it, so she’s happy being her friend for now. Every second she gets to spend with A’whora is a treat, so she can’t complain.

It would be easier if she was still labouring under the delusion that A’whora was straight, which was the whole reason it took Tayce so long to start slowly falling for her. A’whora had had a boyfriend for roughly the first six months Tayce had known her, so she hadn’t even thought of her friend in that capacity at all. Then one day on a rainy January she’d thudded her bag down on Tayce’s desk and told her they were going for drinks after work that night because her boyfriend was a cheating piece of shit and she’d broken up with him.

Tayce’s fate had further been sealed when they’d been sitting together for an inservice day on LGBT training and A’whora had turned to her and rolled her eyes.

“We don’t really need to be here, do we? We could just piss off to McDonalds.”

Tayce had laughed softly, fixing A’whora with a slightly confused glance. “Huh?”

“Well, I feel like we probably have enough lived experience of the whole thing to not need training. Still, we could always duck back in in time for the transgender part. But I mean we probably don’t really need to be told how to support kids struggling with their sexuality, do we?”

Tayce still remembers how A’whora had snorted at her, her face obviously looking as if she was searching for the last puzzle piece in the world’s most confusing jigsaw. “What is it?”

“I don’t get…what?” Tayce had said awkwardly, still unsure of what A’whora had meant.

A’whora had pulled a face, giggling a little. “Are you telling me that rainbow flag is on your desk for shits and gigs?”

“No…” Tayce said slowly, the pieces slowly falling together. “So…”

A’whora gave another funny little snort. “Tayce, did you not know I was bi? I’m sure I’ve told you this before.”

Tayce still thinks she deserves an Oscar for still being able to keep the conversation going despite the fact her entire world had been flipped on its head like a globe made of hourglass. “You’ve not! You’ve never. I mean, like, why would you need to? It’s not something that matters. I mean obviously it matters to you, but it doesn’t matter to me. You’re my friend either way. I mean it just never occurred to me because…your ex, and uh…you can drive.”

Mercifully, their headteacher had started speaking before A’whora could respond to her beyond a single raised eyebrow and a smirk on her face.

It’s been ever since then that Tayce has been looking at A’whora in a different light. How gorgeous she is at the start of the day with nothing but her laminated brows and lash extensions to pass for makeup and how gorgeous she still is at the end of the day with her mascara and eyeliner smudged a little at the edges and her lipstick all rubbed off. How she’s generous and patient and how she’ll go out of her way to help Tayce understand the new flavour-of-the-month resource their headteacher makes them use, pulling one of her kid’s chairs over to sit close beside her to see the monitor and bumping her knee against Tayce’s every so often.

It’s how she acts around her kids, though, that really highlights everything Tayce completely adores about A’whora. Tayce is on her way up to the staffroom with two tubs of chicken shawarma salad in her hands (one for her and one for A’whora, of course) and she makes it up one flight of stairs when she suddenly hears a cry like an air raid siren pierce the air, as well as a gentle, soothing voice muttering quiet consolations.

It’s the sheer hysterical nature of the crying that catches Tayce’s attention at first, and she looks over the bannister to see A’whora on the level below, sitting a little boy who’s bawling his eyes out down on the red squashy chairs outside the office. With a stab to her heart Tayce realises that it’s Archie, the boy who’d given her the picture all those weeks ago. Both his knees and the palms of his hands are torn to ribbons; he’s obviously had a fight with the tarmac and emerged the loser. Tayce knows he’ll be okay if an adult’s seeing to him, especially if that adult’s A’whora, so she knows she can leave. She doesn’t need to stay and watch the situation play out.

But she does. She watches as one of the ladies from the office comes out and reassures A’whora that she can take over, and as A’whora waves her away kindly and says it won’t take her two minutes. She watches as A’whora puts her hands on the boy’s shoulders and directs his breathing, talking to him calmly and softly. She watches A’whora rip into a packet of sterile wipes with grim determination, telling Archie how brave he’s being and that she knows it stings as she wipes quickly and carefully over his little cut hands. She watches A’whora peel the wrapping off four plasters, making it seem effortless even with her long acrylics, and the way she makes a joke about Archie being bandaged up like a mummy which brings a smile to his little tear-stained face and a smile to Tayce’s too. The other staff don’t get to see A’whora’s caring nature very often (given how often she whispers judgemental comments to Tayce during meetings) but Tayce sees it all the time. A’whora has the biggest heart of anyone she’s ever known, and the whole scene makes Tayce feel so endeared towards her that it almost frightens her.

It’s at that point when Archie looks up at Tayce on the bannister and makes eye contact with her. He flicks his eyes back down to his teacher.

“Uh, Miss Boyle? I think Miss Szura-Radix wants to talk to you, because she’s been there a long time.”

Tayce’s heart freezes solid at the same time A’whora turns around, who fixes her with a sort of funny smile, confused but not exactly unhappy to see her.

“Uh. Coming to the staffroom?” Tayce shouts down, under pressure to explain herself but simultaneously not having any explanation.

“Two seconds!” A’whora yells up apologetically.

“I’ll wait,” Tayce yells down, reassuring her.

Tayce is used to waiting for A’whora. She supposes another minute or so won’t make a difference.

***

This is the third Valentine’s day A’whora has spent with Tayce.

The first fell on a Monday and had been an abject disaster (or success, depending on how she looked at it). A’whora was still getting over her ex and Tayce had confided in her that she hated Valentine’s day and all its commercialised, capitalist tat with a burning passion, so they’d gone to the pub after work and got so outrageously drunk that the two of them were so hungover the next day A’whora drove them to McDonalds for lunch.

The second had been last year- a Tuesday, where Tayce had been subdued and a little down until A’whora had forced her into helping her choose new clothes for the roleplay area for her kids and the pair of them had collapsed into endless breathless giggles as they both tried on costumes made for five-year-olds, the memory of Tayce in a hi-vis vest, safety goggles and a tiny hard hat one that still makes A’whora laugh if she thinks about it.

Really she’s lucky that she gets to be one of the few people who’s spent the 14th of February with their crush for three years in a row, but not for the reasons she might want. Still, she can live in the delusional daydream she’s taunted herself with many times; how maybe today Tayce will turn up at her classroom door with helium balloons and a teddy, how she’ll say she’s been secretly in love with her for years and how she’s booked them a table at that fancy seafood restaurant in town that just opened up for an actual proper date (not a mate date and not some gal-entines or pal-entines bullshit).

And then Tayce hops into her car in a foul mood with her hair drenched from waiting for A’whora in the rain with no umbrella and a face like a cow’s backside.

A’whora tries to cheer her up. She blasts the R&B that Tayce loves but Tayce just asks her to turn it off, telling her that Kiana Ledé, Mahalia and Ella Mai are exactly what she doesn’t need to hear on Valentine’s Day, endless songs about being in and out of love. So A’whora blasts Charli XCX instead, which works well until shuffle puts on Forever, and then Tayce is in the huff again.

Teaching the year fives doesn’t exactly help her feel much better, A’whora thinks, as they both sit down to lunch together and Tayce turns to her with an incredulous scowl on her face.

“They’ve all got bloody boyfriends and girlfriends!”

A’whora stops eating the pasta salad Tayce has made for her and narrows her eyes inquisitively. “Who does?”

“All the kids in my class. They’ve been going around all day telling me who they’ve paired up with, who’s snogging who, the detailed dating history of these bloody ten year olds. They keep asking me what we’re doing for Valentine’s Day. ‘Are we making cards?’ No! We’re doing more work on decimals because none of you bloody understood it the first three times I explained it to you. Make a card in your own damn time,” Tayce rolls her eyes while A’whora snorts with laughter. Tayce side-eyes her, unimpressed as A’whora tries to defend herself.

“Oh come on, Tayce, you’ve got to admit it’s a bit funny.”

“Is it? Is it though? Is it funny that a ten year old boy can get himself a girlfriend but I can’t?”

Tayce’s words make A’whora’s heart jump a hurdle. She plays it off with a joke. “Yeah, but he’s got a ten year old girlfriend, Tayce. I’m assuming you don’t want that.”

“No, funnily enough!” Tayce shakes her head. She pouts uncharacteristically, tilting her head to the ceiling. “I just…I don’t know, I just want someone that’s there for me. Who’ll always listen to all my shit, someone that makes me smile when I feel like crap. Someone I can just be myself around and have a laugh with whatever the hell we’re doing.”

A’whora nods and doesn’t say what she wants to. We do that. We do all of that together already.

“But I don’t want all the shit of having to actually get to know people, having to go on dates and do the whole talking stage and get my hopes up only to have them let down. I wish I could just…” Tayce sighs, and A’whora’s on tenterhooks wondering what’s coming next. “…I wish I just already had that person, you know?”

You do have that person. I’m that person.

A’whora nods silently and the bell rings signalling the end of their lunch break.

Since she’s not as enraged by Valentine’s day as Tayce, A’whora has planned to get the sequins and glue out and get the kids to make Valentine’s cards. She loves planning tasks like this, mainly because five year olds don’t need much help when faced with a glue stick and a shaker full of glitter, so it means she can put her feet up and have a chilled afternoon. She explains to her class what they’re going to be doing, feels her heart burst with affection as they all get outrageously excited at the very notion of using glitter. She shows them how to fold their piece of paper carefully to make a card shape, and shows them the array of colours they can choose from (and has to explain to some disappointed boys that no, she doesn’t have any blue card so no, their Valentine’s Day card can’t be the colour of Crystal Palace football club).

She’s giving out the different colours of card to her kids and cutting them to size when one of her girls stops, peers carefully at the selection of colours, then looks at A’whora thoughtfully.

“Miss Boyle, are you going to give a Valentine’s card to Miss Szura-Radix?”

A’whora almost slices through her own hand in shock. She looks with incredulity at the little girl in front of her. “Bella! No, of course not. Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re best friends and you love her,” Bella shrugs, A’whora’s attempts to shame her into silence obviously having no effect. A’whora tries to scowl, tries to do her best ‘cross face’ despite the fact that the thought of giving Tayce a Valentine’s card sets her heart racing so fast it makes her genuinely think about driving to A&E.

“I don’t…” she starts, until Bella speaks again.

“You told us before that girls can fall in love with girls and you said that we can make our Valentine’s cards for our friends too,” she insists innocently. A’whora finally musters up a frown, thrusts a pink piece of card into her hand.

“Why am I even entertaining this conversation- go and get on with your work, madam!” she says firmly, and Bella walks away with her blank card in her hand, nonplussed.

But as her kids all begin to make their cards and they’re all too caught up in glitter and painting their hands with PVA glue to even need her help with anything, A’whora begins absent-mindedly folding a spare piece of pink card in half. She draws one, two, three love hearts on it, then takes one of the little glue sticks and carefully, neatly, fills them in with splodges of clear glue. She asks one of the little boys sitting at the table opposite her if she can borrow the red glitter when he’s finished with it and he nods his head, A’whora’s heart involuntarily swelling with pride at how good her children are at sharing. She tap-tap-taps the glitter shaker over the hearts on the paper, making sure each one is covered completely before standing the card upright and watching the excess fall off like sparkly snow. Opening the card, she takes the gold shiny gel pen from her desk and writes without really thinking it through.

Maybe if Tayce isn’t going to magically read A’whora’s mind and figure out what she’s been yearning for, A’whora just has to give her a little nudge in the right direction.

When she’s done she folds it back over, stands up, crosses the room to her empty yellow message folder and slides it inside. She asks her class if anyone knows where the year five classroom is because she’s got a message to send there. Fifteen tiny hands fly up and A’whora basically has to whittle the volunteers down to the only two kids who actually know where they’re going, and she gives them the folder and tells them to take it up to Tayce’s classroom.

She doesn’t think about the reality or the implication of what she’s just done, because if she does then she’ll start hyperventilating and not stop until perhaps June of next year. Instead she catches the eye of Julia, the little girl who moved from Poland in January. She can’t speak or write a word of English yet, but the way she’s looking at A’whora with a little smile on her face makes her genuinely wonder if she knows. Sometimes kids can pick up on these sorts of things. She shoots her a little wink and puts her finger to her lips in a “shhh” just in case, and the little girl breaks into a grin that shows two missing front teeth.

The thing about teaching is that it’s a great job for providing a distraction. A’whora can’t think about the card she made for Tayce when she’s cleaning up an entire pot of glitter that Jared spilt all over the carpet, nor can she think about what she’s written in it when she’s comforting Angelica because she didn’t get to finish her card in time for hometime. But the moment she’s waved the kids off and dropped them off to their parents she walks up the stairs from the front entrance with an impending sense of dread which only increases with every new step she takes.

“What the fuck have you done,” she mutters under her breath, earning her a weird look from one of the ladies at the office.

When she gets back to her classroom to find Tayce sitting on one of the tiny tables waiting for her, A’whora feels her heart freeze in her chest and the blood rush to her face, blushing just from seeing her there. Tayce looks in a better mood than she was at lunchtime, though, which is a good start. Maybe she never even read the card. Maybe A’whora’s reception kids took it to the entirely wrong class. Christ, that would be even more embarrassing.

“Hey, boo boo,” Tayce smiles gently at her, as A’whora crosses the room and elects to sit on the desk opposite her so they’re face to face and not too far away. “How’d your afternoon go?”

“Oh, uh, y’know,” A’whora stammers out, blundering her words in the world’s worst attempt at appearing nonchalant. “Lots of glitter, lots of PVA. In fact I’m probably sitting in a massive glittery splodge of it, as are you.”

Tayce laughs, checks the table comedically.

“How was yours? You seem a bit more cheerful,” A’whora continues, looking to the floor and not darling to meet her eyes. “Did decimals finally click with your lot, or…?”

“I am a bit more cheerful,” Tayce smiles, A’whora’s heart racing and soaring in anticipation at the same time. “But not really anything to do with decimals. More to do with the fact somebody made me a really very lovely Valentine’s card.”

Tayce reaches behind her back and produces her card- A’whora’s card- from the table behind her, and A’whora feels her pulse race at her wrists and her heart leap into her mouth to the extent that she’s rendered almost too shy to speak. What the fuck was she thinking? Tayce is probably about to rip the piss out of her for it, it was a huge mistake, and she’s probably thrown their whole friendship away for nothing.

However. There’s a little something in Tayce’s eyes, a little sparkle that makes the grey shine silver. So A’whora shrugs, fixing a carefree smile on her face even though she feels anything but.

“Well, I know you hate Valentine’s day, so…I thought maybe if I gave you a card you’d stop being so mardy about it.”

When she looks at Tayce again she can see there’s a little crack in her perfect armour, the sparkle in her eyes dulled slightly. When she speaks her voice is quiet and nervous, so stripped of its usual hyperactivity and energy that A’whora wonders if it’s even Tayce’s voice at all. “Is that, uh. Is that the only reason you made it?”

A’whora can practically feel herself clam up. She has no idea where Tayce is going with this; to clarify that it was a joke or to clarify that it was serious, and A’whora doesn’t know which one Tayce wants it to be.

“What you wrote,” Tayce continues, her gaze fixed on the glitter-covered carpet and making it even more impossible to figure out her intention. “Was that, like…some girly besties chat, or was it…did you mean it…like that?”

“Yeah, I did,” A’whora says instantly. It’s out before she knows it, a terrifying leap into a freezing cold conversational plunge pool with no life raft to help her climb out. There’s only one way out and it’s Tayce’s reaction, whatever the hell that might be. She snapped her head up the moment the words left A’whora’s mouth, and her eyes are wide in what could be shock but could quite easily be horror.

A’whora doesn’t think she’s ever been more hopeful and frightened all at once. The seconds tick by and Tayce is still frozen in position, and A’whora can literally feel herself inching closer to the edge of the desk in terrified anticipation.

“Jesus Christ say something, Tayce, before I cringe myself to death,” she says breathlessly, her blood feeling almost electric as it races in her veins.

Tayce leans forward, not giving much away as she brings a thumb up to A’whora’s cheek.

“You’ve got a bit of glitter on your face,” she murmurs.

When she leans in and closes the gap between them, A’whora feels herself melt against Tayce’s lips with relief. They’re in the middle of her classroom at quarter part three with the door open and she’s very well aware that anyone could walk in at a moments’ notice, but A’whora doesn’t care. A’whora only cares about the fact that Tayce is kissing her and she’s kissing back, and it’s so hard to believe it’s actually real and not some daydream come to life, and it’s happening on Valentine’s day which makes it even more far-fetched. But every time A’whora starts to think that maybe she’s dreaming she feels Tayce’s thumb stroke her cheek, or their knees bump together, or she brings a hand up to rest at Tayce’s jaw just to make sure it’s all real.

When Tayce pulls away and they smile at each other, giggling and blushing like one of Tayce’s year fives, A’whora only allows herself to properly believe it’s all actually happening when Tayce presses their foreheads together, takes both of A’whora’s hands in her own and murmurs quietly to her what A’whora’s wanted to hear for entirely too long.

“I love you too.”

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #uk2 #i don’t know how i know (but I know)#ortega #taywhora #tayce #a'whora #british au #lesbian au #teachers au #fluff

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eleanorbloom · 3 years

Text

Adore You (Bryce x MC) 🍋🍋🍋

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F! MC (Eleanor Bloom)

Warnings: N.S.F.W. Cursing.

Prompt: Day 23. Dry Humping | Breasts Worship | Frottage (Mods, I know I’m late, please forgive me 😭😭😭)

A/N: Hellooooo everyone! This is my official last kinktober fic. I have still a few half written but I’ll post them some other time. I actually no need a fest to write and post smut at this point 🤣 so I hope you don’t mind if I tag you in smut fics in the future. If you don’t want to be tagged anymore, just let me know!

I swear, I SWEAR I DIDN’T COPY BRYCE WORDS FROM LAST CHAPTER. I had this fic sleeping for two weeks, but I didn’t have the inpo to finish this until a couple of days.

A/N 2: Nikka, whether you read this on Tumblr or AO3, I hope you don’t mind. That’s all I have to say.

A/N3: This fic follows the events of Eighth Deadly Sin, my first kinkntober fic.

Taglist: @romewritingshop @utterlyinevitable @starrystarrytrouble @lahellacute @lahamseiroshoe @princesslahela @hermosaofraleighcarrera @choicesficwriterscreations @lucy-268 @interobanginyourmom @bratzlahela @mercury84choices @openheartfanfics

I hope you enjoy it!

______

The chatting of June and Baz was the first thing she heard when the doors slid open. “Hey, you okay?” Baz said looking at Eleanor from head to toes, her cheeks rosy and her face somewhat shimmering against the artificial light hanging over her head.

“Yeah, why?” She knew why, but she had to play the dumb. Luckily, it would work out with him.

“You’re all blushed.” He chuckled. “Don’t tell me the pager found you at the other end of the building. I hate when that happens.”

Eleanor’s cheeks flushed even more. Not even the light pace and the quick stop to the bathroom to alleviate the heat on her face had been enough.

What could she say? ‘Oh, no, it’s just that I gave my boyfriend a massive blowjob in a supply closet, don’t worry, it’ll pass?’ Hell no.

“Actually yeah, I was heading to the E.R.”

‘They’re fucking diagnosticians, I bet June already knows what I was into. Baz would never, he’s too oblivious, and Ethan… I don’t know if his mind will go directly to the gutter just because I’m blushed. Oh, the hell with it, no one has caught me in anything.’

Eleanor tried to move on by taking a seat beside Baz and asking for an update on the case they’ve been trying to diagnose the whole day. A few seconds later, Ethan walked towards the table and informed her of the last results as he started to cross out some theories written over the whiteboard.

The rest of the day went in a blur trying to discard some other theories, until, finally, Baz came up with the final idea.

Once her shift was over, she changed her scrubs for a gray wool skirt with a green mint sweater, put her black jacket on, grabbed her bag, and after a few minutes of walking under the snow, she took the train towards Bryce’s apartment.

The delicious smell floating around the apartment invaded her nostrils the moment Keiki opened the door. “Hey Ella, glad I get to see you!”

“Hey Keiki, me too.” Eleanor gave her a quick hug before the younger Lahela returned to the table and placed three glasses and three napkins in their usual spots.

Eleanor took a few steps to the couch to set her bag there when she noticed Keiki’s backpack was set there too, but completely full as if it was ready for a trip or something. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah, I’m staying over at a friend’s house tonight. We have a physics test tomorrow and she asked me to help her study, she couldn’t handle some topics.”

“Awww, and as the future astronomer of the family, of course you’ll use your star power to help her. That’s really nice of you.”

“She has been really sweet with me since the beginning, one of the few that didn’t judge me for my parents.” She shrugged and gave Eleanor a shy smile. “And I actually enjoy teaching physics, so…”

“I’m glad you have friends here, Keiki.”

Eleanor smiled at her before sauntering to the kitchen where Bryce was turning off the griller. He was wearing a pine green hoodie with dark jeans. His normal winter outfit at home. “Hey, love. This smells fantastic” She took him by the hips and lean on his tiptoes to kiss him. He smooched back sweetly.

“Hey, gorgeous. And I bet it’s tasting even better” He winked.

“Look at you, four months ago you didn’t even know how to cook pasta and now, all confident as if it was an appendectomy.”

“What can I say? I’m talented and I put everything in me when I’m interested in something.”

“Of course you do, Goldie.” She patted him on his head, teasingly.

Bryce chuckled and without prior notice, he bent down her face and licked her cheek wet and long.

“Bryce!” She giggled. “What the fuck?!” Eleanor brought a hand over her cheek to dry the trail of saliva Bryce had left.

“If I’m gonna be a Goldie to you, I have to be in full mode, don’t you think?” He leaned again, but this time Eleanor moved as a reflex. However, Bryce was faster, so he managed to cup her head with both hands. But he only leaned to brush his lips over her earlobe before whispering, “And once Keiki’s gone, I’ll do it everywhere, so get used to it.”

She gulped and a shiver went down her spine and ended between her tights. Yes, just that simple words, that sole thought left her all wet. She had been imagining to be alone with Bryce in his room every spare time she found that afternoon. But alone in his apartment? Hell, no.

Karma was definitely manifesting.

He gave her a smug grin at her reaction before turning around and grab a spoon from the drawer.

After shaking off the sinful thoughts off her head, she strolled to his side, to help him serve the dinner: grilled beef with rice and vegetables.

Half an hour later, Eleanor was doing the dishes, when Keiki’s cellphone rang.

“Okay, Nikka’s mother is here to pick me up, I’m leaving!” Keiki pocketed her cellphone in her jacket and then flung her backpack over her shoulder in one swift motion. “Bye Ella, nice to see you!” She blew her a kiss fast as she was approaching the door.

“You too, Keiki, have a nice study session and I hope you ace that test tomorrow.”

“Thank you! Bye bro!”

“You have everything you need with you? Phone charger, pajamas, pads, wallet, money, EarPods, books, pencils, pencil case?”

“Bryce! Stop messing. I have everything with me.”

“Well, I may not be your father, but I have to do the usual questions adults do to teenagers when they make sleepovers.”

“Oh, and you’re an adult? I would’ve never guessed.” She snorted before getting out of the apartment.

Eleanor chuckled from the kitchen, “I love that kid.”

“You don’t miss a moment, do you?” He said as he saw Eleanor placing the last plate on the dish dryer, and then walked towards her to wrap his arms around her hips, pressing his body flush to hers.

“You don’t miss a moment when we’re alone, do you?” She teased her hands over his and turning her head to one side so Bryce could kiss her cheek.

“I’ve been wishing to be alone with you here for months, so, no, I won’t miss a single second.” He kissed down to her jaw, to finally rest his lips on the crook of her neck for a couple of seconds, until finally went up to her earlobe, sucking it playfully. His hands slid up to her waist, ribcage until he reached her breasts. “At last. I’ve been imagining them in my hands since you left the supply closet.”

Eleanor lolled her head back, resting it over his shoulder, not doing even the slightest effort to dissimulate the pleasure his hands were provoking in her.

There was no need.

“What else have you been imagining?”

“Well, for starters, getting rid of all your clothes until I have you completely naked over me.” Bryce sank a hand under her sweater and blouse and Eleanor felt his soft warm skin gripping her. Then his hand traveled up her chest, his fingers teasingly percolating under the fabric of her bra.

“Fuck”, she sighed. “And what do you want me naked for?”

“I want you naked so I can touch your tits and pinching them, kissing them, sucking them, hard, so hard, just as you like…” A soft moan escaped her mouth, and then, a whimper died in her throat when he pulled the lace down and pinched one nipple with his thumb and index. “And I touch you… and I suck you until you cum, until you shake over me…”

Bryce was about to tug her sweater out when a noise at the door startled them. The only thing he reacted to do, was pulling his hands out of her clothes, and place them in her hips.

And of course, to perform his best nonchalant face.

“Sorry, tomorrow I have p.e. and forgot my snickers!” Keiki said in a hurry, running to Bryce’s room, where she had all her clothes and shoes.

Bryce feigned to be really focused on only kissing Eleanor on the cheek. “God… this kid… I asked her if she had everything”, he complained loudly like they weren’t doing anything sinful before she got in. They walked to the hallway, Bryce not freeing Eleanor a single inch from his body, always wrapping her from the back, and somehow both managing the blush.

“Dude, give her some space” The girl teased, with her snickers on one hand before disappearing behind the door.

Bryce waited only a couple of seconds before sinking his hands under Eleanor’s shirt again, and whispered sultrily against her ear: “Now, where were we?”

“Let’s check that she goes this time, okay?” Eleanor untangled herself from Bryce’s arms and walked toward the living room window and looked down. After a minute, Keiki ran toward a SUV, where she got in. Seconds later, the car turned around the corner and disappeared.

Completely sure no one would interrupt them, Eleanor turned around and smiled at him “Now, where were we?” She repeated, before pouncing over Bryce and kissing him passionately. As the exchange escalated quickly into desperate bites for their bodies, none of them couldn’t help the ragged breaths and soft moans escaping from their throats.

Bryce, finally, at last, could tug her shirt and sweater off, only leaving her with her indigo bra. The same happened with her skirt, and the only thing that was left was her black pantyhose. “I can help you with that,” She said peeling herself from the delicate fabric.

When she looked up again to resume the kiss, she found her boyfriend already contemplating. There was something soft beyond all that hunger and desire. “You’re always so stunning, babe.”

“And you are beautiful and hot, and sexy, and I need to see more of you.” She purred, sliding her hands under his shirt, feeling his chiseled hips tensing at her touch. She grabbed the hem of his Henley, and pulled it off, exposing his broad and muscled chest, smooth and warm, radiating the most exquisite heat that always characterizes him. That makes him the best hugger in the world. “Mmmmh yes.”

“I thought I was the one who wanted you naked.”

“I didn’t have the chance to tell my fantasy. And my fantasy is feeling your skin and all your heat against mine.”

"You can't resist my body, eh?" He gloated while Eleanor was unbuckling his jeans and tugging them down his ankles.

"No, I can't. Clothes are definitely a nuisance if it’s on you.”

Bryce took two steps to get rid of them and circled his arms around the small of her back. "What, would you want me naked all day if you could?"

“Should be in the ten commandments.”

“I really am nothing but a piece of meat to you, eh?”

“Yeah, that’s why I ate you out so good this afternoon.” She pouted and gave him a knowing smirk.

Bryce bit his lip, fascinated. “In that case, I demand you’re my piece of meat tonight.”

“Bon Appetit, then, mon amour” And she captured her lips in his, thirsty, before circling her arms around his neck. Bryce lifted her up in one motion and carried her to the couch, where he sat down carefully, and Eleanor shifted her legs so they could straddle him.

They kissed passionately, fervently, voraciously. Being alone in the department was being such a turn on, more than they could’ve imagined. It was like all the passion, the longing and desire bottled up in all those months, were finally uncorking with every touch, every breath, every moan. “God, I feel like I’m gonna fuck you in so many ways, and everywhere…” He breathed, leaving a trail of kisses down her jaw.

“Except for Keiki’s bed, right?”

“Yeah, except that, that’s sacred.”

She chuckled, “Thank god you have some common sense.”

He continued pressing his lips now against her neck, sucking deeply when he reached her clavicle.

“Bryce, how many times I have to tell you… fuck”, his hands gripping her breasts roughly stopped her, the pressure on her skin making her anticipation grow inside her. After a few seconds, he moved both hands to her back and unclasped her bra, tossing it to the floor impatiently.

He didn’t wait a second before sucking her nipple with her mouth and pinching the other with his fingers.

She sighed.

“All fucking afternoon imagining your tits in my mouth, sucking them hard... And finally…” When he sucked the other nipple, Eleanor moaned and started to buck her hips.

“Holy shit, baby”

God. His hot breath against her sensitive skin, his expert and quick movements against her buds made her pleasure invade every fiber of her body.

Then, Bryce sank a hand in her underwear and grabbed her butt, but he stopped after a few seconds. “Baby, you’re not as I imagined you.” He whispered sultry, hooking the hem of her underwear with her thumb.

“I can fix that very quickly” She assured, and then stood up in front of him, both breasts wet and shiny with his saliva, and her nipples red and erected in his direction.

Eleanor took both sides of his lacy indigo underwear down, and now was standing completely naked in front of him. “That’s better?”

Bryce leaned to her and slid his hands to her sides, his eyes roaming her body from her toes, up her curvy and rounded tights, and stopping in her hipbones, where he kissed them softly and ceremoniously at each side. Then a trail of kisses following up her waist, breasts, and chest. Eleanor straddled him again, so he continued on her shoulders, neck until he reached her chin and stopped. “My love, you are… god, I think words are not enough this time.” His voice was husky and low. Intimate. His gaze intense and transparent. Breathtaking. It made her heart skip a beat the way he was looking at her. And the way he was calling her.

There were a few times when Bryce would use the words my love. It’s not that Eleanor wasn’t his love, but he only used those when he was completely and perfectly and incandescently in love. Enamored. Bewitched. Like a golden retriever trained only to love and worship her.

Just like now.

“Then show me”

“I will.”

She pressed her lips against his impatiently. She was burning inside, and she knew the fabric of his boxer was already wet with her arousal.

He kissed down her chest again, hands roaming all over her body while his tongue was licking her nipple. “Fuck, yes” She whimpered, rubbing her nub against his crotch, finding some relief, but the desire was too much. The sensations, overwhelming. His soft touch on her skin, tracing the curves of her back, gripping her ass, pressing her hips while his mouth was sucking her breast hard was mind-blowing. She was dizzy, she lost all focus, there were so many places when she was feeling pleasure, and above all that pleasure, she could feel the love, every touch, every studied move he was doing, not only to please her and make her come, but to show her how much he loved her.

He was adoring her.

“Bryce… Bryce…” She moaned “Ohhh, fuck”

Then he parted a little from her, took both breasts with his hands, and brought them as close as he could and began to lick them alternately and quickly like he had two ice cream cones and was tasting one at a time.

“Bryce, baby, you’re amazing.” She cried, sensing her folds almost painfully swollen, and her climax near.

“I told you I’d make you cum this way”

“And I believed the very second you told me so.”

Bryce brought a hand to her waist and pulled her closer to him, pressing her against his tights, her sex tickling, craving for touch, but she needed to reach that so wanted orgasm only with her tits. She knew Bryce would do it amazingly.

He brought the tip of his tongue back to her nipple and Eleanor brought both hands to his head, forcing him to stay there for a while. “Ohh baby I’m so close.”

He frantically slid the tip of his tongue into one nipple, then the other, and when he determined which was the one that caused her the most pleasure, he simply asked to confirm. "You prefer this one, right?" He whispered sucking her right breast, and Eleanor nodded with a small voice.

“Yes…”

Bryce continued to grab both breasts, but he slid his tongue down her right nipple and stayed there, waiting for her release.

“Come on, my love, I’ve got you.” He whispered while his thumbs were drawing circles in her swollen and reddened nipples. “Cum over me, babe.”

He sucked and licked her again, and again until he felt her hips move convulsively and her head lolled back, moaning hard. “Bryce, oh my god, yes!” feeling all her body electrified.

Then, she cupped his head with both hands, pulling his hair to rest her forehead against his. Her body warm with pleasure, and dizzy with sensations still coursing through her body.

Without noticing his intentions, she suddenly felt his thumb rubbing her folds and drawing circles over her clit. “Bryce, what the fuck”, she protested husky, her hips bucking as reflex.

He ignored her and kept moving his fingers, and every now and then sinking his fingers between her folds. “Come on, baby, I know you can do this”, he incited.

And she started to moan again, desperately, her legs shaking. And then, her whole body. The desire killing her slowly.

That was a whole new orgasm, different sensations, and he knew. He perfectly knew she could give him another.

She kissed her frantically, moaning hard, her body convulsing over him.

“Yes, baby, give it to me, you’re just as I imagined you.”

He had two fingers inside her, and his thumb rubbing her clit. His hand all wet with her arousal, just as he wanted.

“You’re insane, you know that?” She said laboriously.

“You like me insane, you love me insane”

“Yes, babe, and please never change.”

Hard kiss again and he brought his two wet fingers to his sensitive spot and drew circles until she came screaming against his mouth “Fuck, fuck, FUCK, BRYCE!” while all her body was shuddering and her tiptoes curved furiously.

Her words drew the smugest and most satisfactory smile Bryce had felt in a long time.

He only stopped moving his fingers until he obtained the last drop of her orgasm, when she became quiet for a moment and then collapsed to one side of the coach, her breath ragging and his skin damp with lustful sweat.

It took her more than usual to catch her breath.

“Are you okay babe?” He asked after a minute, leaning onto her.

“Yeah, I’m great, more than great, actually.”

“Good enough to give me a third?”

“Fuck, yes”

Bryce stood up and lifted her up in his arms and carried her to the kitchen counter.

“And you’re telling me I am the insane here.”

Eleanor sank a hand under his evidently wet boxers, and stroke his hardened cock.

“What can I say? You inspire me”

She directed her length to her core, and stared at Bryce, waiting for him to do the rest. He complied instantly.

“I’m gonna ask this Nikka kid to invite Keiki more often.”

“Mmm, yes...” She squirmed as Bryce began to thrust her slowly. “Seconded.”

Both kept enjoying the rare solitude until, hours later, both collapsed on the bed, destroyed. And shower sex was still pending for tomorrow.

Eleanor couldn’t walk properly in two days and no one could erase the smug grin over Bryce’s face for the next three days.

_____

Yes that line that Eleanor said, I did copy it from yesterday’s chapter 😂

Thank you for reading!

#Bryce Lahela #Bryce x MC #bryce x casey #bryce lahela x mc #open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction #Oh fanfic #playchoices #choices #choices stories you play #Pixelberry

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morningfears · 4 years

Text

Dark Blue

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18!

Summary: Calum and your older brother were best friends. Although the pair of you got off on the wrong foot, you spent the summer together and fell for one another somewhere along the way. However, when your brother moved away for college, Calum disappeared, too. But a long drive serves to close the distance between the pair of you. | Vaguely Stranger Things AU (it’s set in Hawkins, reader works at Starcourt, mentions Steve, and Calum’s story is loosely based on Billy’s here). Brother’s best friend, car sex, mechanic!Cal.

Word Count: 11k

The cool October air was a welcome sensation after spending the day locked in stuffy classrooms. It wasn’t quite cold enough for snow, nor was it cold enough for heavy winter gear, but the bite in the air was enough to make you not want to linger for long as you exited Hawkins High School. Instead of crossing the parking lot to join your friends by the baseball field, you paused under the entryway awning. The worn white-washed metal creaked in the wind and sent an unpleasant shiver down your spine as you scanned the parking lot for your older brother, Jason. With your car in the shop and him home for fall break, he’d been tasked with picking you up from school and dropping you off at the mall for work. However, his familiar red Firebird was nowhere to be seen and you briefly wondered if he’d forgotten you.

Your disappointment and annoyance only lingered for a moment because the second you spotted the equally familiar blue Camaro, you knew that that wasn’t the case.

The car that had quickly come to be known around town as belonging to a reckless young man with a penchant for heavy music and driving just a little too fast shined like a beacon in the parking lot. Curious freshmen milled about it, walking just a little slower as they passed to glance at the car and it’s driver, before averting their eyes and whispering amongst themselves. You spotted Jason leaning against the passenger door, Ray-Bans shielding his eyes from the late afternoon sun as he reveled in the crowd watching his every move, but he wasn’t the one to capture your attention.

The owner of the car, dressed in a burgundy button-down with a worn black leather jacket thrown over top, was leaning against the driver’s door. He had a cigarette between his lips, rings adorning his fingers that shined in the light whenever he moved his hand, and he looked like he was holding himself back from snapping at the kids who get a little too close to his car. Calum, your brother’s best friend of nearly a year, loved his car more than anything and you knew that it had to be causing him a great deal of pain to let it sit in the dirt and gravel lot of Hawkins High once more.

The car was only a fixture of the parking lot for a little less than a full school year. Calum and his family had moved to Hawkins in October of his senior year and his car spent more time navigating the backroads of Hawkins than it did sitting in the Hawkins High parking lot. Whenever Calum and your brother both attended school, cars parked in the corner of the lot where they could easily peel out the moment the final bell rang, they gathered the attention of almost every student at Hawkins. But when the pair of them graduated in May, it was as if everyone suddenly forgot about the blue Camaro and its owner.

However, you supposed that was the longevity of the high school attention span.

Following their graduation, Jason had gone on to become a full-fledged college student. The maroon sweatshirt, embroidered with the college’s crest, adorned his body and drew the attention of nearly every girl in town whenever he visited home. His visits were frequent, a little too frequent, and you knew that they were mostly just to relive the days when he was king rather than a lowly pledge in a fraternity he didn’t even want to join but you couldn’t really find it within yourself to complain.

Whenever Jason was home, your parents forget you existed for the weekend and dropped the questions about your grades or your future to focus on their favorite child.

Calum, however, stayed in Hawkins.

His parents were, and still are, upset that he decided to forego a college education to work in a garage but Calum remained steadfast in his decision. He wanted to return to California and getting a job was the quickest way to save money for his trip back. He stood by his choice, defended it as fiercely as he could, and took things in stride when his parents kicked him out. He protested at first, claiming that he could handle it on his own, but by June he was living in the bedroom your older sister once occupied. For the first few weeks, he was under the impression that no one knew he was there, save for Jason, and you all let him. Your parents never said a word but your mother made sure to keep things she knew Calum liked in the pantry and stocked the bathroom with a few bottles of his favorite shampoo and body wash under the guise of wanting him to be comfortable whenever he visited.

Calum lived with you until September. It was only when Jason began to pack up his things to move into his dorm room that Calum managed to find a small place on the outskirts of town. He knew that that would be the only way he could afford to get back to California so he bit the bullet and moved into the small house, not much bigger than the one bedroom it contained. And though you hated to admit it, you missed having him around.

When he first moved in, Calum managed to avoid you like the plague. Part of you believed that he was under the assumption that you’d tell your parents and get him kicked out but after it became clear that he was living in your sister’s old room and you never said a word, he realized that you wouldn’t do that to him. When it became clear that he was living with you and not just crashing for the night or spending a little too much time with your brother, your teasing didn’t stop because you knew that would only alert your parents. Instead, you focused on the grease under his fingernails or staining his cheeks. You focused on the small things, ones that weren’t going to draw any attention to anything out of the ordinary, and that’s how Calum knew that even if the two of you hadn’t gotten off on the right foot, you weren’t going to be malicious.

Over the summer, you got used to Calum’s presence. Most days, the two of you were the only ones home. Your brother spent most of his summer driving around with whatever girl that managed to pique his interest that day while your parents worked longer and longer hours in the summer months. Calum, on the other hand, spent his days working at the garage and his downtime sitting in the window, chain smoking and writing, or lying on the floor listening to a new mixtape.

On the days that he would listen to new mixtapes, you would leave your bedroom door open to hear the music he played. There was a lot of rock, a lot of punk that you weren’t familiar with, but you liked it just the same. And when Calum realized, he began leaving his own door open and turning the music up a little louder so you could hear it better.

It was a slow evolution but by the end of the summer, you were often found sat on your bed, book unopened by your side, as Calum sat in the window and smoked. You rarely spoke to one another, you didn’t need to, but you grew used to spending time with Calum and looked forward to spending your evenings with him.

When he left, Calum left a shoe box full of mixtapes on your bed. Some were the ones that you’d listened to together, others were brand new. The new ones contained all of the songs he knew you loved, the ones that made you light up whenever they played, and each had a special, unheard song at the end with a note that read, ‘You’ll like this one, trust me.’

You knew that things would change when he moved out, the mixtapes should’ve given you a hint that things were never going to be the same, but you hadn’t realized that was Calum’s way of saying goodbye. You realized that you wouldn’t see him much anymore but you hadn’t counted on not seeing him at all. In fact, you hadn’t even seen him when you went with your father to drop off your car at the garage. You knew that he was working, you’d chosen a time that you knew he’d be there just to see his face, but you left with the bitter taste of disappointment in the back of your throat as your father chatted about the weather.

And now, as you took in the sight of him, almost entirely unchanged in the nearly two months since you last saw him, the bitter feeling returned. The churning in your stomach was only made worse by the giggling of two juniors beside you. You watched as the one of them caught sight of the guys and bit your lip to keep from commenting as she pulled a cigarette from her pack and stared at the car.

“Look,” the smoker huffed, nudging her friend to capture her attention, “it’s Calum and Jason.”

The pair of them stared at the car, their eyes wide and mouths open, and it was like watching a train wreck in slow motion as the friend shrugged off her jacket to reveal her low-cut top. “They get hotter every time I see them,” she swooned as she tugged the top down just a little lower, the lace of her bra peeking out. “Think we should go say hi?”

“Duh,” the first girl returned as she copied her friends actions and tugged her top down just a little lower. “Maybe they’ll give us a ride home,” she giggled, winking at her friend to ensure she’d gotten the meaning behind her words.

This time, you did roll your eyes as you watched them bound across the parking lot. The girl with the cigarette approached Calum, twirling her permed hair around her finger as she attempted to strike up a conversation. She tried her hardest, making her intentions so clear that even the most oblivious of individuals could pick up on them, and the storm of emotions raged even louder in the pit of your stomach.

You remained under the awning, gripping the strap of your bag just a little tighter, as you weighed the costs of walking to work. Part of you believed that neither of them would notice, your brother certainly wouldn’t, not with the attention of nearly every girl at Hawkins High on them, and you knew from previous experience that they wouldn’t hesitate to leave you if you took too long. However, the mall is nearly two miles from the school and you hadn’t counted on Calum being the one to pick you up so you’d opted for style over comfort when getting dressed for school.

You knew that there was no way for you to get to work on time without them driving you, nor was there any way for you to get there without destroying your feet and freezing, so you heaved a heavy sigh of defeat and crossed the gravel parking lot. You were uncomfortably aware of the eyes on you as you brushed past the freshmen. Those who remembered your brother associate you with him, they knew why you were climbing into the Camaro, but those who didn’t were already sharing hushed whispers as they watched you cross your arms over your chest and wait for your brother to notice your presence.

You could tell that Calum was wholly uninterested in the girl throwing herself at him, he usually was, and it sent your heart rate skyrocketing when he noticed you first. When his eyes met yours, you felt your breath catch in your throat and your cheeks heat and you cursed yourself for being such a high school girl as you watched him drop his cigarette to the ground and snub out the flame. He glanced at your brother, rolled his eyes at the shameless flirting, and nodded his head for you to get in on his side. He turned away from the girl without so much as acknowledging her and opened the car door for you. When you brushed past her, she blinked, surprised and offended, before she glared daggers at you. Once you were settled in the back seat, you shrugged at her, trying your best to hide the smug smile that you felt like she deserved, and bite back a laugh as she stomped around the car to grab her friend.

Calum climbed into the car, slamming the door behind him and revving the engine to gain your brother’s attention. Jason glanced down, grinned at you in the backseat, before he straightened up and pressed a kiss to the girl’s cheek. He said something to her that got a blush and a giggle before he climbed into the car and sent her a wave.

True to his reputation, Calum peeled out of the parking lot far too quickly. You gripped the seat, your nails digging into the leather in an attempt to keep from sliding around the backseat, as you tried your hardest to keep your face as neutral as possible. When your brother first befriended Calum and you found yourself occupying his backseat more and more, Calum always teased you for not being able to handle riding with him. He teased you for the grimaces and faces of displeasure that you often made whenever he drove and took delight in shocking you with his driving whenever possible. Things had changed since the last time you were in his backseat, though, and you had a feeling that he wouldn’t bother commenting on whatever expression you managed to pull. However, you didn’t want to give him any reason to speak to you when he so clearly didn’t want to so you managed your facial expressions as carefully as you could.

Though you’d had nearly two months to contemplate his reasonings, you still weren’t sure why Calum cut contact with you. There was no possible motive that you could think of to explain what made him decide to pretend that you didn’t exist. You left one another on good terms, or so you thought, and you’d spent the summer under the impression that the two of you were at least acquaintances, if not friends. You ended the summer on a high note, far from the bickering duo you’d been upon his arrival in Hawkins, and you hoped that the camaraderie would continue as you enjoyed your time with him. However, as you sat in the backseat, the atmosphere was so tense that you could feel it suffocating you and you regretted choosing not to walk.

Jason, if he noticed the atmosphere, didn’t mention it. Instead, he turned in his seat and grinned at you. “Hawkins High never changes,” he told you, “it never gets old.”

He’d taken to both reminiscing on his high school days, fondly remembering the good times he had roaming the halls of Hawkins High, as well as sharing his newfound college wisdom with you every chance he got and it made you roll your eyes as he began to list the differences he’d found in college. Calum, too, looked tired of hearing all about university life and made a face at you in the rearview mirror as Jason mentioned the fraternity house for what had to be the millionth time. Despite yourself, you giggled at Calum’s reaction and it pulled a small, barely there smile from him before he returned his full attention to the road.

You stared at Calum in the rearview mirror for a long moment, carefully taking in the dark circles beneath his eyes and the curls of his hair, before Jason’s voice cut through the fog of Calum clouding your brain. “I’m serious,” Jason said, recapturing your attention as Calum turned onto the backroad that lead to the mall, “you’re gonna love college, kid. But enjoy your last year here. These are the best years of your life.”

Calum head you mumble ‘bullshit’ under your breath and smiled despite himself. He knew just how much you had always hated high school, many of the late night conversations the two of you shared were spent bitching about work or school, and he knew how much worse it had been for you as Jason’s little sister. You’d dealt with people only wanting to befriend you to get to Jason, you’d dealt with teacher’s having preconceived notions of you because of Jason, and you’d worked your ass off your entire life to live up to the pedestal your parents have put him on, despite his obvious shortcomings.

When Calum met you, he knew that despite the two of you being siblings, there couldn’t be two more different people. You were kind, studious and steadfast in your adherence to rules, while Jason was never afraid to cut class or sneak a cigarette behind the gym. Jason partook in petty pranks like knocking the books out of a student’s hands or throwing wads of paper at his friends while you were the one to help pick up textbooks and sweep classrooms.

Calum took to teasing you almost immediately and your perfect reputation was, in the beginning, the reason why. He wanted to see if he could get a rise out of Hawkins’ golden girl. He wanted to see if he could get you to crack, get you to swear or throw something at him or just display a purely negative emotion, but as the year wore on, that grew old. He no longer wanted to see you angry. Instead, Calum continued his teasing purely for fun. He realized, early on, that you enjoyed trading jabs back and forth. He realized that you enjoyed the mental sparring and kept it up as long as you seemed interested. Even during the summer, when you barely spoke to one another, you traded jabs as if nothing had changed and it made him realize that the two of you weren’t so different.

Despite the initial tension between the two of you, you always cared for Calum just the way that Jason did. You brought him blankets whenever he crashed at your place after a party and distracted your parents long enough for him to sneak out on mornings that the boys overslept. Before he graduated, you spent two weeks helping him study for his chemistry final just to make sure that he passed and would be able to walk with Jason. You’d spent hours making flashcards with the excuse that you could always use them for yourself when you took the class and spent even more hours in his car, hidden from the outside world as you quizzed him.

When he moved in with you, you kept up the care and made sure that he had whatever he needed. You managed to sneak his clothes into the laundry room (although your mother caught on fairly quickly) and took the blame for the open window in Sarah’s room any time your parents asked. You let him borrow your key on nights he would be working late or stayed up far later than you usually would just to let him in the house. Though the two of you spent your nights talking about anything and everything, about your hopes for the future and dreams that would never pan out, you kept your expectations vague. Neither of you ever voiced your thoughts about your newfound relationship aloud and Calum appreciated it all.

However, as the summer wore on, Calum began to see the impact that your spending time together was having on you. He began to see the stamp that he was leaving on you and it made him worry that everyone else would be able to see it, too.

The change in your music taste wasn’t so bad. Several of your friends were into rock music, they liked the guys in tight jeans and half-buttoned shirts, so he knew that the change would’ve come around eventually, naturally. Plus, your brother listened to The Clash and The Ramones before the two of them met. You were bound to be exposed to it someday. However, when you traded in your pink skirts for a pair of acid wash jeans and came home wearing a pair of black Chuck Taylors that you’d bought with one of your paychecks, he began to worry about the influence he was having on you.

But it was only when you asked if you could have a cigarette and spent the night sitting on the roof with him, smoking to the soundtrack of Fleetwood Mac, that he realized just how deep you both were.

You both had carved out a routine, clinging to one another without realizing it, and it scared him. He didn’t want to be the reason that you skipped school or started smoking. He didn’t want to be the reason that you changed your wardrobe from pastels to deep, dark colors or rebelled against your parents. He didn’t want to be the reason that Hawkins’ golden girl became tarnished.

To keep that from happening, Calum did what he had always done best and ran.

He decided that you would be better off without him and his influence. He reasoned that keeping his distance would be beneficial to you both and it had been easier than he imagined it would be now that he had a place of his own and a full-time job at the garage. With you stuck in school during the day and working at night, he was usually able to avoid you even when he did go into town for groceries or a bite to eat at the diner. That wasn’t to say, however, that there hadn’t been a few close calls. The most recent of which, you dropping off your car at the garage with your father, left him ducking into a storage closet and pretending to do inventory until you left. His co-workers found the entire situation absolutely hilarious, Calum Hood hiding from a spoiled princess, but he’d decided he could take the teasing so long as it kept him away from you.

Unfortunately, this was one encounter that he couldn’t avoid. He’d already agreed to spending his day off with your brother, had agreed to going into town and getting a milkshake at the diner or driving the backroads to listen to the newest mixtape he’d made, so he couldn’t pretend to be busy when your brother mentioned needing to swing by the school to pick you up. It meant that he would have to face you for the first time in over a month, it meant that he would be locked inside the car with you until he could get you to the mall, but he decided that he’d have to face you eventually so he might as well get it over with.

It also didn’t hurt that your brother never knew about the time the two of you spent together leading Calum to believe that you’d be far less likely to give him the explosive reaction he once wanted so badly from you in Jason’s company.

The plan that the two of them concocted was simple. They would drop you off at the mall for work and go grab a bite to eat before spending the afternoon driving the backroads that they now know better than the actual roads of Hawkins. Calum imagined that you would be upset with him, imagined that you would at least give him a glare or a half-assed puppy dog pout that he knew worked on every other man in your life, but he was surprised to find that you barely looked at him. One of his co-workers told him that you’d asked about him, casually dropping his name to your father and pretending that you didn’t care when one of the others told you both that Calum had stepped out, while another told him that it was obvious how disappointed you were. Hearing that sent a pang of guilt straight to Calum’s heart and he felt it, burning hot and bright in his chest, as you pointedly avoided looking at him.

He hated doing this to you, hated being that guy even though he swore he’d never lead anyone on, but the moment he realized that you both felt the same things for one another, he felt the need to distance himself. He wasn’t quite sure if you realized it yourself, he knew that you definitely hadn’t caught on to his feelings for you, and he thought that he preferred it that way. Things were easy when you were just friends, teasing one another for the hell of it and sharing conversations without any expectations, but the moment feelings got involved, he knew that it was going to be hell.

He knew that he planned to leave Hawkins the minute he had enough money to return to California. He knew that you planned on moving to New York for college in less than a year. He knew that your days would be numbered before you even began them and that you’d only be setting yourselves up for heartbreak if you were to give a relationship a shot. He also knew that the attention he got, from girls your age and from the women in town with nothing better to do than search for a Madonna-inspired boy toy, bothered you and he would never want you to feel insecure in your relationship.

The last thing Calum wanted was to break your heart and that’s what he imagined would happen if the two of you ended up dating. He also knew that dating him came with a certain stigma that you absolutely did not deserve.

As he was so often reminded, you were the golden girl of Hawkins. Mothers encouraged their daughters to be more like you, fathers encouraged their sons to try and date you. Teachers, despite their preconceived notions connecting you to your brother, learned to love you and any place you’d worked had experienced a boom in business. Calum knew that the golden girl dating a mechanic, one who opted out of college and had a reputation for liking fast cars and even faster women, wouldn’t go over well. Though he was sure your parents wouldn’t have a problem with it, he knew that everyone else in Hawkins would have something to say so he told himself that this was for the best. He told himself that you were better off without him and that you would forget about him soon enough.

He only hoped the same was true for himself.

“Calum, you missed the turn!”

Your voice, tone obviously annoyed and a little harsher than he was sure you intended, brought him back to reality. He blinked, breaking out of the cloud of regret and the consideration of what-if’s he’d been overthinking since he moved out, and swore as he stepped on the breaks. You yelped, surprised by the suddenness of his stopping, and cried out in pain as your shoulder slammed into the back of Jason’s seat. Jason laughed as you groaned in pain, gripping the door handle to keep yourself in place as Calum made what was possibly the most illegal u-turn you’d ever witnessed, and you had to resist the urge to smack him. Calum at least had the decency to look sheepish as you leveled a glare at him through the rearview mirror and he managed to mumble an apology as he took the correct turn and pulled into the parking lot.

He pulled into an open spot close to the front door and stared up at the mall, looming bright and shiny and new in front of him, as Jason climbed out of the car to let you out. He didn’t want to look at you, didn’t want to risk feeling even guiltier than before, but he couldn’t help himself as he caught a glimpse of your waist, skin exposed by your shirt riding up. He thought back to the summer, back to the night you shrugged off your t-shirt and shorts and jumped into the pool without a second thought, and the pang of regret was stronger than any he’d felt in a long time.

He didn’t want to let his life be ruled by fear, nor did he want you to become the one who got away, but he knew that you deserved better. You deserved someone who was going somewhere in life, someone who would make something of themselves. He had no business fucking up your future, not when he’d already fucked up his, so he kept his eyes on the elaborate exterior of the Starcourt Mall entrance as he listened to you and Jason speak.

You adjusted your clothing as you climbed out of the car, moving quickly to avoid the air nipping at any accidentally exposed skin, and wrapped your coat a little tighter around your body. “Are you going to pick me up after work?” you asked Jason as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, almost afraid of his answer.

“Yeah,” he nodded, laughing slightly as he watched you rub your sore shoulder. “I’m on chauffeur duty the entire time I’m home,” he informed you before he asked, “You get off at eight, right?” When you confirmed his assumption, Jason nodded once more and reached out to ruffle your hair. “I’ll see you at eight, then,” he hummed, a little too happily for your sour mood. “Have a good shift, kid!”

Jason gripped your shoulders and turned you to face the mall entrance before he nudged your back and sent you walking forward. You rolled your eyes at his impatience as you heard the car door shut and the music dramatically increase in volume. You glanced over your shoulder at the pair of them as Calum peeled out of the parking lot once more, tires squealing as he narrowly avoided hitting another car. You watched, unable to tear your eyes away, until his car disappeared around a bend in the road. You heaved a quiet sigh once you were certain they were gone and made your way into the mall.

You took your time, wandering through the newly built megastructure with a weak sense of intrigue, as you still had fifteen minutes until you officially clocked in. Your eyes lingered on the window displays of certain shops, dresses and skirts catching your eye and calling your name, as you attempted to rid your head of any thoughts about Calum. You wanted to forget that you’d seen him, wanted to forget that he still made your heart beat a little too fast and a swarm of butterflies erupt in the pit of your stomach, but all of your efforts were for naught as he was still the most prominent thought on your mind as you enter the small retail shop that was owned by the same couple who own the ice cream parlor you’d worked for over the summer.

Your co-worker, a homeschooled girl who meant well but really had very little experience socializing, bombarded you with questions the moment you entered the shop. You were never late, always there by three-thirty on the dot to spend the extra thirty minutes doing homework before you officially clocked in, so the ten minutes you lost to Calum’s missed turn and your own reluctance to get into the car were more than enough cause for Emily to panic. The first question out of her mouth was, “Is everything alright?” and her tone almost suggested that she was hoping it wasn’t just so she could be entertained.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you stashed your bag beneath the counter and grabbed your name tag. “It’s fine,” you assured her as you went ahead and clocked in, despite being a bit early for your shift. She trailed after you as you stepped around the counter and began searching for tasks to keep you busy. As you began folding sweaters and straightening displays, you continued, “My brother and his friend dropped me off. He missed a turn and it took a few extra minutes. No big deal.”

“Friend?” Emily asked, voice clearly displaying her intrigue as she followed your lead and grabbed a sweater of her own to fold. “Do you mean a certain friend named Calum?”

This time you did roll your eyes. You bit your tongue, regretting ever having mentioned Calum to her in the first place, and debated not answering. However, you knew Emily well enough by now to know that she was like a dog with a bone, she wouldn’t give up until you satisfied her curiosity. So, you nodded. “Yeah,” you sighed as you reached for another sweater, “Calum. Again, it wasn’t a big deal.”

Emily snorted a laugh, disbelief evident as she straightened a display of winter gear. “It’s a very big deal,” she insisted as she watched you fold yet another sweater. She moved closer to you, practically stood on top of you, and reminded you, “This is the first time you’ve seen him since he moved out and gave you those super sweet mixtapes.”

You really regretted sharing the detail about the mixtapes as you dropped the sweater you’d picked up and turned to face her. She jumped, startled by your sudden closeness, and took a step back. She smiled at you, unassuming and sweet, and the desire to roll your eyes had never been greater. You managed to keep yourself from making any unnecessary facial expressions or snapping at her as you turned back to the display in front of you. Although you wanted to agree with her, although you would have liked to believe that seeing Calum for the first time in nearly two months was a big deal, you didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. So, you offered a half-hearted shrug as you asserted, “It really wasn’t a big deal. It was just a ride. And it’s not like we owe it to one another to hang out. We’ve both been busy and now that Jason’s gone, there really isn’t much of a reason for us to hang out.”

You kept telling yourself that, kept telling yourself that Jason was the only reason you and Calum ever got so close, but you knew that that wasn’t true. There was something there, something real between the two of you that was simmering beneath the surface all summer, but whatever it was, you were certain that it was the reason Calum no longer wanted anything to do with you.

Maybe he’d come to his senses, realized he could do better than some high schooler who went to bed at ten o’clock and followed every rule to the letter. Maybe he’d realized that you were far too different, too boring or prudish, for a future together. Maybe his feelings were never real but a product of your proximity to one another, completely forgotten now that he no longer shared the same roof as you.

Regardless of the reason, it still hurt and dwelling on the subject only made the acrid bitterness in the back of your throat even stronger. So, before Emily could respond, you changed the subject and asked, “Has it been busy today?”

Business was steady throughout your shift. The holiday crowds had yet to assemble and your patrons were mostly high school students looking to kill time but there was enough for you to do that you didn’t spend the entire shift searching for busy work. You successfully managed to avoid Emily’s questions, dodging her inquiries with the decision to help a customer or grab a box from the storeroom, and by the time the clock struck eight, she’d forgotten all about your encounter with Calum.

As she was the first to arrive, she left before you did. It was your job to close out the register and ensure that everything was locked before you left for the night. You painstakingly ran through your list of chores, making sure that each one was completed and checked off, before you locked the shop and ventured through the empty mall. You exited through a side door, an employee entrance that remained open until the security guard managed to make his rounds and ensure that each of the shops was closed, and you ventured around the side of the mall to the parking lot that you figured your brother would be waiting in.

Again, there was no sign of the red Firebird but the blue Camaro was parked directly under a streetlight. Calum leaned against the hood, boot clad feet crossed and arms folded over his chest, as he stared at the entrance you’d gone into hours earlier. You figured that Jason had found a date for the evening and convinced Calum to pick you up. You weren’t sure how much it took to bribe him into doing this but you were certain that Jason was going to owe him for a lifetime as you crossed the parking lot to reach Calum’s car.

He didn’t notice you at first, not until you settles against the hood beside him, and he jumped in surprise when you greeted him. “Jason busy?” you asked, not bothering to wait for his greeting in return.

“He found a date,” Calum confirmed, rolling his eyes as he did so. He’d always found Jason’s womanizing to be a bit distasteful. There was nothing wrong with having fun and enjoying yourself, however, your brother sometimes took it to a new extreme and it never sat quite right with him. Ultimately, though, Calum knew that he was in no position to criticize someone’s life choices so he never said anything. The only person he’d ever mentioned the distaste to was you and that was only because you mentioned it first.

“Sorry you’re stuck with chauffeur duty,” you sighed as you met his eyes for the second time that day. “Do you know anything about my car? We dropped it off last week.”

“Should be done by the end of this week,” he assured you as he lit himself a cigarette and took a drag. “Mike’s working on it.”

“That’s good,” you hummed, anything to keep the tense silence from enveloping you both, “I’m tired of bumming rides and relying on my idiot brother.”

Calum smiled at this, the first genuine smile you’d seen from him since his departure, and shook his head. “Come on,” he breathed, smoke swirling into the air as he gestured for you to get into the car, “it’s cold.”

It wasn’t that cold, not really, but you imagined that he was trying his best to keep the time spent together to a minimum. So, instead of arguing with him, you climbed into the passenger seat and pressed yourself to the door to keep from sitting too close. If Calum noticed (he did), he didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned the radio down enough to hear the music while retaining the possibility to speak to one another. Neither of you said anything as he pulled out of the parking lot but you noticed that he was driving much slower than you’d ever seen him go. Part of you determined that you shouldn’t ask about it, that whatever his reasons, you didn’t want to know. The bigger part, though, the less rational part that always seemed to win out, told you that you should ask him.

Calum had never been a careful driver, had never even bothered to turn down his radio, and the sudden switch in behavior threw you off.

Instead of outright asking him what he was doing, you asked, “Are you alright?” When he raised his eyebrows in confusion at your question, you shrugged. “You’re going slow, is all. You never drive slow.”

Calum didn’t answer right away. Instead, he kept his eyes on the road ahead of him and did his best to ignore the speedometer and your presence. He hadn’t realized it, it wasn’t his intention, but with you alone in the front seat of his car, he subconsciously lowered his speed. He also hadn’t realized that he’d turned down the music to be able to speak with you even though he had realized he chose your favorite mixtape to listen to.

As Fleetwood Mac filled the car and you stared at him expectantly, Calum nodded. “It’s cold,” he answered and had it actually been cold, you would’ve bought it. He’d skidded on a patch of black ice his first winter in Hawkins and Jason told your parents that the only time he’d ever been cautious was around winter roads. However, it was nowhere near cold enough for the roads to ice and you wanted to point that out but you weren’t sure how well it would go over.

The two of you lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, Calum tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the song and you staring out into the night. Something had changed in the air between the two of you. It was no longer as easy as it was over the summer. Instead, your words were clipped and sentences short. Your interactions were those of strangers and it hurt your heart.

You considered the fact that you’d already lost Calum as a friend, considered the fact that he no longer seemed to want anything to do with you, and you decided that nothing worse could come of asking him for closure. Though you didn’t really want to know why he was so distant now, you felt that you deserve an answer. So, you rephrased your question and asked, “Is everything alright with us?”

Calum figured this was coming. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to avoid you for much longer without you seeking an answer, that was just the kind of person that you’d always been, and he’d readily agreed to pick you up when your brother asked just so you could get the conversation over with. He still wasn’t sure what he was going to say to you, he still wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted from you, but he shrugged as an answer knowing that you wouldn’t like that at all.

You tried to keep your voice steady as you shifted in your seat to face him and huffed his name. “We spent the entire summer together,” you reminded him, your voice quieter than you wanted it to be. “We had something,” you sighed, “or, at least, I thought we did. And now it’s like we’re strangers again. You left me those mixtapes and I thought that meant something.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t read into things,” Calum shrugged, struggling to keep his tone neutral as he kept his eyes on the road. “We just spent time together because we were bored. We don’t actually have anything in common that keeps us together.”

“That’s bullshit!” you exclaimed with a frown. “You said it yourself, we’re more alike than we are dissimilar. We go well together, Cal. We worked.”

“We might’ve worked for the summer but that was all it was ever going to be,” he stated as he slowed to a stop at the first stop sign leading toward your home. “I’m sorry that wasn’t clear.”

You were silent for a moment, weighing your options, before you demanded, “Stop the car.”

Calum glanced over at you, eyebrows furrowed and frown prominent on his lips, as he shook his head. “You’re not walking. We’re almost there.”

“Who said anything about walking?” you asked as you crossed your arms over your chest. “We need to talk. Stop the car.” Calum rolled his eyes, used to your dramatics, but did as you requested and pulls the car off onto a dusty side road that barely saw any traffic. He put the car in park and turned to face you as he waited for you to continue speaking. “Tell me that this summer was bullshit, tell me that it meant nothing and that you never meant for it to be more than some flirty friendship and I’ll drop it. I’ll believe you and let it go. But look me in the eye while you do it.”

Calum cursed under his breath and that’s how you knew that you’d gotten him. He’d never been able to lie directly to you, not about his feelings, and he confessed that once after he had too much to drink at a party. He’d told you that he’d spill the secrets of the universe to you so long as you looked at him with those eyes and you’d never used it against him. However, you felt that the situation called for it.

So you waited, arms folded over your chest and eyebrows raised, for Calum to speak. You waited for him to tell you that it was bullshit, that he didn’t feel anything for you, but the words never came. When you relaxed your posture, softened your stance and lowered your brows, Calum shook his head to stop you from pleading with him. “You deserve better than me,” he told you, finally answering the question of why he’d been avoiding you. “You deserve the world and I can’t give it to you. You deserve someone who knows what they’re doing with their life, not some loser who has half a plan and a pipe dream. You’ve got a big future. You’re going to change the world someday and I don’t want to hold you back.”

You were surprised to hear Calum be so negative about himself. While he wasn’t the definition of positivity, he had never been outright self-deprecating. So to hear him think that he wasn’t worthy of you or your affection broke your heart. It hurt to know that the reason he’d pushed you away was because he’d built you up onto a pedestal in his mind, one that you most certainly were not worthy of, and you were at a loss for how to respond.

You knew that you needed to say something, knew that you needed to tell him just how wrong you thought he was, so you spoke from your heart. You didn’t weigh your words carefully, you didn’t hesitate in rambling. You simply began speaking and hoped that it would be enough.

“You wouldn’t hold me back, Cal,” you assured him, your voice stronger than he’d ever heard it. “You are the one person who has always believed in me. No one has ever said that, no one has ever told me that I’d change the world, and you sound so sure of yourself that it makes me want to believe it, too. You don’t push me to be anything other than myself. You don’t measure me in comparison to my brother. You allow me to be me and I enjoy being myself around you. I’m comfortable with you. You make me happy and that’s the only thing that should matter.”

Though Calum’s heart was soaring at your words, he knew that he had to be at least somewhat realistic. He knew that he had to be the one to ground the conversation in reality so he refuted your claim. “But it isn’t,” he sighed, smiling sadly at you. “Happiness isn’t the only thing that matters. And our futures are going to be very different. You’re moving to New York, I’m going to California. We’ll be split up in a few months, anyway, and then we won’t even have our happiness.”

“I’m actually not,” you informed him quietly, dropping your head to stare at your fingernails. “I’ve been looking at schools and the one in New York doesn’t really offer what I want,” you shrugged, not daring to look up at him. “So, I started looking in California.”

“No,” Calum refused immediately, shaking his head vehemently. “You can’t base that decision on me. Your parents, your brother, everyone in town knows that New York is your dream. You can’t change your mind for me.”

“I didn’t,” you assured him quickly. “New York was my dream but that changed before I even met you. I’ve just felt like I needed a plan for so long that I never told anyone I wasn’t sure. Everyone expected me to have everything together, to have a decision that was set in stone, so I pretended like I did. But I’ve been looking at schools around the country since before we met. I looked at a few in the south, a few here in the state, but there’s one in California that’s seemed like the best option for a while now. It’s got everything I want.”

To say that he was surprised would be an understatement. Despite spending the summer together, you never once mentioned your desire to go elsewhere. You never once mentioned you potential move to California. However, as he thought back, Calum realized that you paid far more attention than seemed normal whenever he talked about California. You asked more questions than anyone else and seemed to truly take his words to heart. And now that you’d taken away his strongest argument, Calum could see the future that he hadn’t dared dream about materialize before his very eyes.

He could see you lying on a beach, sunglasses covering your eyes and a book open on your chest, as the two of you spent your afternoons together. He could see the two of you living together, him working in a garage and you going to class and working weekends at a cafe to pay the rent. He could see long nights, listening to the ocean and watching the tide roll in. He could see warm summers and mild winters, far away from the ice and snow of Hawkins.

He could see love and that terrified him.

When he didn’t respond, you continued speaking. “If you really don’t feel anything for me, that’s fine,” you assured him, your voice going quiet once more, “but I know what I want, Calum. I want you and I really don’t care what those nosy ladies in town have to say about it. You make me happy and even though that might not be all that matters in the future, it’s enough for a beginning, isn’t it?”

Calum hated it when you turned your optimism into reason because he really couldn’t argue with something that sounded so sweet. He couldn’t argue with your hope, with your desire to be happy together, so he didn’t even try. Instead, he leaned across the dash and pressed his lips to yours. His hand cupped your cheek, warm against your cool skin, and he smiled against your lips when you leaned into his touch. His kiss was feather light, a barely there pressure meant to convey his feelings for you, and it sent your heart soaring as your eyes fluttered shut. Calum took that as a positive sign and shifted in his seat to deepen the kiss.

The angle at which you were both sitting was uncomfortable. The gear shift was digging into Calum’s stomach, the hand pressed against your seat hurt from holding up his weight and he was contorted into an unusual sitting position that strained his back, however, he wouldn’t trade the moment for anything in the world. The feeling of his lips on yours, the feeling of your fingers carding through his hair and your eyelashes fluttering against his cheek whenever he nipped at your bottom lip, was enough to keep him from complaining. He’d endure the discomfort forever if necessary, just so long as he could keep kissing you.

You were sure that the windows had fogged and that the mixtape was going to end soon but that thought didn’t deter either of you. What felt like hours passed in a haze, you and Calum locked in a searing kiss that set your soul on fire, and the moments that you pulled away to breathe were punctuated with lips pressed against your neck or the exposed skin of your collarbone. Kissing Calum was unlike anything you’d ever experienced and you never waned to leave the moment.

Calum was the first to pull away, his lips swollen and cherry red. You wanted nothing more than to cross the gap he’d created and return your lips to his, however, he breathed a quiet sigh of contentment and glanced at his watch. “It’s getting late,” he reminded you, his voice quiet in the silence of the car, “I should get you home.”

“Or you could get me in the backseat,” you offered with a slight shrug of your shoulders. You knew that your parents wouldn’t be home and even if they were, they wouldn’t notice your absence or would chalk it up to you staying over at a friend’s to study or getting dinner with Emily. They wouldn’t be concerned and they certainly wouldn’t jump to the conclusion that you’re in Calum’s backseat.

Calum seemed to have the same thought that you do, his realization just coming a little slower. However, when he decided that you were right, that your parents wouldn’t notice and that you wouldn’t get in trouble, he contemplated your offer. “We don’t have to,” he assured you, reaching out to brush the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs. “I’m not just trying to get in your pants.”

“I know that,” you reassured him, “if I thought that you were, I’d have made you take me home by now. I want to do this, Calum. I want you.”

He swallowed at your words, heart thundering in his chest as he felt his body begin to overheat. He contemplated for a moment, considered it, before he shrugged off his jacket and nodded. “Get in the back,” he breathed, biting his lip as he watched you shrug off your own jacket before you crawled over the console to settle onto the backseat. He stared at you for a moment, admiring your kiss swollen lips and the content smile that quirked them, before he followed your lead and climbed into the back to join you.

As he settled over you, his body pressed close to yours in the tight confines of his backseat, Calum couldn’t believe he was in this position. He’d thought about it so many times, thought about you beneath him and moaning his name, and it was hard to believe that it was finally happening. You didn’t give him long to dwell, though, as you reached up and tangled your fingers in his hair. He gave in to you easily, allowed you to pull him in for another searing kiss, as his own hands slipped beneath the hem of your top. He’d always loved seeing you in blue, always thought it suited you the most, and he didn’t hesitate to tell you so as his hands brushed your sides.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his voice reverential as he stared down at you. The awe was clear on his face, his eyes alight with such an intense happiness that it made you want to look away. Instead of responding, you pulled him back in for another kiss as your hands moved from his hair to the buttons of his shirt.

Calum allowed you to unbutton the buttons and tug at the material for a moment, indicating your desire to take it off, before he pulled away and shrugged his arms out of the top. As he did so, you leaned up as best as you could and pulled your own top over your head. He watched, swallowing thickly, as you pulled your own top over your head and tossed it into the front seat. Both of you stared, unashamed. You took in the smooth expanse of Calum’s chest, the tan skin and the few tattoos he kept hidden beneath his clothes, as his eyes roamed your exposed stomach and chest. He could tell that you hadn’t meant for this to happen, the bra you were wearing was one that he recognized as the least fashionable in your wardrobe, but he found it endearing. He liked that he got to see you as you were rather than as a caricature of yourself. But before he could repeat himself, he heard you whisper, “You’re so beautiful, Calum.”

He could tell by the way that you were looking at him that you meant every word. He could tell that you found him just as beautiful as he found you and he felt like his heart was going to burst from happiness as you reached out and brushed your fingers across his heated skin. He allowed you time to explore, gave you the freedom you needed to enjoy the moment, and watched the steady rise and fall of your chest as you traced your name against his skin. When your fingers returned to his hair, tugging lightly at the curls, he returned his lips to yours. His own hands found your chest with your guidance, his hands cupping your breasts through your bra and gently squeezing. His touch was lighter than you imagined it would be, more careful, and it made you happy to know just how much he really cared.

Calum took his time to explore your body, his hands leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he slipped them beneath your body to unclasp your bra. His lips remained on your skin, pressed against your neck or trailing over your chest, as your hands raked down the expanse of his stomach to unbuckle his belt. As his lips lavished attention on your breasts, pebbling each nipple and grinning when you shivered as he blew cool air on them, his hands worked to unbutton your jeans. His plan of slipping a hand into your pants didn’t quite work the way he imagined it would and he frowned at the tight jeans he thought he loved.

“You couldn’t have worn a skirt today?” he questioned, his tone teasing as he helped you shift to tug off your jeans.

“Didn’t know I’d be in this situation or I would’ve worn something else entirely,” you laughed, voice breathless as you press a hand to his chest to stop him from slotting back between your legs. “Yours, too,” you informed him, nodding toward his jeans. When he grinned at you, you rolled your eyes and watch as he shimmied out of them as best as he could.

“This isn’t what I imagined for our first time,” he informed you as he parted your thighs and brushed his fingers across the waistband of your panties. “I imagined it would be nicer, with candles or something,” he continued as you waited, holding your breath, for him to touch you. He decided to have mercy on you, to save the teasing for later, and nudged the fabric to the side. His fingers brushed your folds, delicate and careful as they gathered your arousal, and he bit back a groan at the feeling. You were so wet, just for him, and he was eager to please you. He wanted to make you cum, wanted to make you see stars and cry out his name, so he didn’t tease for long.

He brushed your clit, his thumb barely nudging the sensitive nub, and he breathed out at your reaction. You were so sensitive for him that he didn’t know how long this was going to last. However, he liked to imagine that you’d be more than willing to go for another round so long as he made the first worthwhile.

He knew that you weren’t a virgin, knew that you lost it to that dickhead Harrington somewhere around your seventeenth birthday, but he also knew that that was the only sexual experience you’d had. Calum was careful to move slowly and deliberately as he slipped a finger into your entrance. He didn’t want to hurt you, didn’t want to give you any reason to change your mind about him, so he watched your face closely for any signs of discomfort. Your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth dropped open in a quiet sigh as he slowly worked you open, a second finger joining the first as he began to rub your clit with his thumb. As you writhed beneath him, focusing solely on the feeling of his fingers inside of you, Calum reached for a condom that he kept in the console.

You were so tight around his fingers, clenching around him every time he hits that certain spot, and he knew that neither of you would last long. So when you grabbed his hand to still it, he took that to mean that you wanted to cum with him inside of you.

You watched in wide-eyed anticipation as Calum rolled the condom onto his length and returned to his position between your thighs. He brushed the tip along your folds, gathering your wetness onto the latex, before he glanced at your face once more. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, the tip of his cock aligned with your entrance. “We can still stop,” he assured you.

In reply, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down, your lips brushing his as you whispered, “I’m so sure.” Calum nodded, his eyes focused on yours as he sank into you.

You were tighter than he imagined you’d be, snug and warm around his cock. As he fully seated himself inside you, Calum had to pause to take a deep breath and collect himself. He already felt as if he were on the verge of cumming, already felt spent, and he laughed as he told you, “You feel so good, baby.”

“You feel good, too,” you assured him, your voice breathless and sounding just as fucked as he felt. You’d imagined this before, imagined him taking you in the backseat of his car and giving you the mind-blowing orgasm you’d always dreamt of, and the reality of the situation seemed to be better than anything you could’ve ever dreamt.

Calum remained still for a moment before he asked, “Can I move?” When you nodded, he gave an experimental thrust, both of you moaning at the sensation, before he set his pace. You weren’t sure if it was just because it was Calum and you’d been anticipating this moment for nearly a year or if he genuinely knew what he was doing, but Calum’s pace was perfect. He didn’t set a blistering pace that had you clinging to the seat and waiting for it to be over, nor did he drag out the process so long that you got bored. Instead, he alternated the two and kept you on your toes. He kept you guessing, kept you waiting for the next movement, and it thrilled you as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.

He could feel you clenching around him, could feel you getting tighter and tighter with each thrust, and it pushed him harder as he desperately wanted to make you feel good. He wanted to push you over the edge, wanted to make you see stars and need a moment to catch your breath, and that’s exactly what he did as his thumb found your clit once more. He brushed the sensitive nub, rubbing tight circles in an effort to bring you over the edge, and when you came with a cry of his name, he swore he’d never felt more accomplished.

Your orgasm triggered his own as you clenched around him like a vice and Calum buried his face in the crook of your neck as he stilled inside of you.

The pair of you remained like that for a moment, each of you attempting to catch your breath, before Calum pulled out and shook his head. “Fuck,” he breathed, head still swimming as he helped you gather your clothes and tug them back on haphazardly. He seemed to be at a loss for words and could only repeat, “Fuck,” as he dressed himself.

You laughed at that, laughed at how flustered he seemed, and pulled him into another quick kiss before you sat up and smiled at him. “Yeah,” you nodded, a bright grin on your lips and the marks on your neck on proud display, “fuck.”

“Language,” Calum teased, although he liked hearing dirty words leave such a pretty mouth. “Wouldn’t want anyone to think I’ve corrupted you.”

“We’re well past that,” you returned, just as playfully, as you reached out for his hand. “You’re a bad influence, Calum Hood. Smoking, drinking, driving too fast, and listening to all that heavy metal,” you hummed, your voice carrying a playful lilt that Calum loved to hear, “but I think I can be just as bad an influence as you if I want to.”

“Yeah?” he asked, eyebrow raised, “How is that?”

“Well, I just convinced you to fuck me in the backseat of your car,” you hummed, reaching out to brush your fingers across his chest, “but the night is still young. I’m sure I can be an even worse influence if you take me to your place.”

Calum stared at you, a smirk on his lips and a laugh of disbelief leaving him. Gone was the golden girl and in her place was a goddess, capable of destroying his life and putting the pieces back together even stronger than they were before. He knew that there was still a conversation to be had because his fears still lingered in the back of his mind. However, Calum was convinced that you were on to something. The happiness that he’d experienced with you, the pure joy that he felt whenever you spent time together and the love that he knew you both hold for one another, was enough for now. The future had yet to be determined. It loomed in the distance, scary and uncertain, but Calum believed that he could do just about anything just so long as you were by his side.

_________________________________________________________

Author’s Note: I want to do an actual, actual Stranger Things AU. Like, I would love to take this and either keep going with it (reader teaming up with Steve and Robin to fight the Russians and Cal getting jealous because she and Harrington were a thing once?). Also, I love muscle cars. And this is set in the 80s, in case anyone was wondering/hasn’t seen Stranger Things. Again, you may have seen this but I wrote it and posted it elsewhere because I wanted to try something new. Anyway, enjoy.

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terreisa · 3 years

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Love Down the Line: Chapter 12

The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch. When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept. Unfortunately she isn’t really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma’s teenage fantasies, Killian Jones. With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn’t come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, AO3

~*CS*~

Boston, June 8th

Emma shifted from foot to foot in front of the door marked 520. It had taken her over a week to get her shit together and make the trip that she’d originally intended to make the morning after her show in Vancouver. Of course that had been before her phone had blown up with calls and texts about Killian’s video, which had hit a million views before the sun had even risen. It had also been before the small gaggle of paparazzi had grown to a crowd and forced her to use the same back door to leave the hotel that she’d used to enter it the night before. Those were the excuses she told herself in the light of day. She was much more honest with herself at three in the morning when she couldn’t sleep.

In the dead of night it was easy to admit that she was a fucking coward. Killian had laid his heart bare for the entire world to see, and judge, and all she’d done was call her manager. Granted she’d had to take a dressing down and listen to a frustrated rant meant for someone else but that was nothing compared to the self flagellation she’d been doing since she’d landed in Portland and driven north instead of heading south. To add an extra layer to her guilt she watched Killian’s video two or three times a day and that didn’t even count how many times she only pulled up the song portion. That, in the end, had been what decided it for her.

She’d tried finding the song on every streaming service and on every platform that sold downloads but it wasn’t anywhere. For the entire week she’d checked every morning when she woke up and every night before she went to bed but the song only seemed accessible in the video he posted. The temptation to illegally download it had crossed her mind once or twice but she’d been able to hold herself in check, mostly because she knew the audio quality would suck but even more so because it felt almost cowardly. That that would be the thing to somehow tip off Killian that she would rather torture herself with a shitty copy of the song he wrote for her than to actually talk to him.

It took far too long for her to piece together that because it couldn’t be downloaded or streamed meant that he wasn’t making any kind of profit from it. When she finally did she felt like her heart had been plucked out of her chest and was on the precipice of being ground into dust. She’d been out the door and on her way to Boston within five minutes of her realization and long before she could talk herself out of it.

The four hour drive had given her plenty of time to think over some things. How she felt about him, really, truly felt about him, for one. While Killian had pretty much said that he loved her she wasn’t so sure that was what she was feeling in return. She definitely liked him, a lot, so much so that the weeks since she’d practically ghosted him she’d grown used to the constant ache under her breastbone. The restless nights and obsessing over his video seemed a bit much but she could easily admit to herself that she missed him. It didn’t necessarily mean that she loved him, they’d really only been together for a matter of days after all.

Then there was the slight issue of what the hell she was going to say to him. An apology was a given. On the flight back to Portland from Vancouver she’d finally admitted to herself that she might have possibly, slightly overreacted when she’d heard about Killian’s record contract. She wasn’t completely in the wrong, he had lied and hidden things from her, but she definitely could have at least listened to what he’d had to say. That was another thing, she was going to keep her damn mouth shut after she apologized and let him say whatever it was that he needed to say to her.

Her planning and imagined conversations got her into Boston but once she’d parked her car she’d begun to worry. There was every possibility that he’d refuse to speak to her, that he’d take one look at her darkening his doorstep and slam the door in her face. He might not even open the door at all, just see her distorted image through the peephole and decide not to bother. By the time she’d reached his apartment she’d worked herself up so much with the ‘what ifs’ that she couldn’t bring herself to even knock on the damn door.

She’d been psyching herself up for at least ten minutes, raising her fist in a burst of courage only to drop it as another wave of unease washed over her. As she lifted her hand for the fifth or fiftieth time one of his neighbors slammed their door shut. Startled, her knuckles tapped the door, softly but enough to make a definite sound. Resigned and relieved she sucked in a deep breath and soundly knocked twice, stepping back quickly so if he did look through the peephole he’d clearly see that it was her on the other side.

For a few agonizing moments she stood, waiting. The neighbor who had slammed their door passed her by, giving her a curious look but kept walking. She briefly wondered if he knew he lived on the same floor as potential rock legend. The thought fled her mind when she heard the slide of a lock disengaging and the door in front of her slowly opened.

She could tell that Killian hadn’t been sleeping as soon as he stepped into view, there were dark purple shadows under his eyes that hadn’t shown up in his video. His hair was even more of a disheveled mess than it had been in the video too, and longer. He was wearing a pair of thin blue flannel lounge pants and a threadbare grey t-shirt with a rip at the collar and a faded Led Zeppelin logo. She’d never seen a more heartbreakingly beautiful sight.

“How-”

“Regina mostly,” she rushed to explain. It was way easier to tell him how she found him instead of why she had wanted to, “Robin helped with the doorman though.”

“They’re old friends,” he murmured absently. His gaze darted all over her, as if he couldn’t quite believe she was there, “Tuck put in a good word for me with the board when I decided to move here after rehab. Why are you here Emma?”

She winced, “Can we, um, go inside. I really don’t want to do this out here.”

Something flared bright in Killian’s eyes as his mouth tightened. She almost expected him to cross his arms and refuse. Saying everything she needed to say out in the hallway would have been embarrassing and awkward as hell but she was prepared to do it. In fact, she realized she would do almost anything to just get him to give her a chance. He must have seen that in her own eyes as he gave her a terse nod, stepping back into the apartment and opening the door wider for her to pass through.

As she walked by him she resisted the urge to reach out and brush her fingers against the back of his hand or worse, stop completely to wrap her arms around him and never let him go. Every ounce of courage she’d lacked before was suddenly filling her from root to tip. She was still nervous as hell but she wasn’t about to destroy everything for once and for all by chickening out at the last second. If things didn’t go the way she wanted it wouldn’t be because she decided that giving up was easier than fighting them.

Her steps slowed to a stop as she fully stepped into the spacious apartment. One of the living room walls was floor to ceiling shelves filled with books, cds, and vinyls while the second had an impressive entertainment system with a giant tv that had a soccer game frozen on its screen. There was a cozy looking couch and matching chair facing it that broke up the space between the living room and breakfast bar and the kitchen. What really caught her eye was the view from the sliding glass doors behind a round dining table that opened to a small balcony. It wasn’t full dark but the facade of the State House was already lit, its golden dome gleaming dimly.

“Nice view,” she muttered quietly.

“You were more excited by the one in Malibu,” Killian said flatly, startling her as he stepped up beside her. He gave her a wry grin, “Bit jumpy there, Swan? Don’t worry I won’t bite.”

She turned fully towards him and held his gaze, “I’m more nervous than worried.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked but he didn’t look away. After a moment he gave a small sigh and moved toward the kitchen.

“I’d offer you a stiff drink but chamomile will have to do.”

He brushed past her, moving into the kitchen. When she didn’t move he huffed and pointed to one of the high backed stools tucked under the breakfast bar. She gave him a small smile and when he turned his back to her to open a cupboard she shook her head at her nervousness. Silently admonishing herself she sat down and watched him move around the space, a defensive set to his shoulders as he gathered the things for their tea and set an electric kettle to boil. Once there was nothing left for him to fiddle with he turned back to her, leaning casually against the far counter and crossing his arms over his chest.

“So it took you ten days to ask Regina where to find me?” He asked in that same flat voice.

Despite his attempt to sound indifferent she could hear the hurt in his words. As much as she knew her answer would only serve to harm him more she couldn’t lie to him. There was enough of that between them already.

“I called her as soon as I finished watching your video-” she dropped her gaze to where her hands were folded on the bartop, not quite strong enough to watch him react to her answer, “ten days ago.”

Her confession was met with silence. She could hear the water in the kettle start to boil and the gentle hum of the refrigerator but that was it. After a few seconds of quiet torture she steeled herself and looked up, needing to know exactly how pissed he was at her. What she saw didn’t disappoint.

He hadn’t moved an inch, still leaning against the counter but there was nothing casual about it. Every one of his muscles were tense, his fingers digging into his bicep with enough force to turn them white while his eyes were two chips of ice, cold enough to burn as he stared her down. She was almost relieved at seeing the signs of his anger, anything was better than the indifference he’d been displaying before. The kettle clicked off but he showed no sign of noticing aside from the slight tightening of his jaw.

As he glared at her she tried not to let her own frustration and anger flare up. There were still so many things that they needed to talk about and any one of them could have him throwing her out of the apartment. She wasn’t about to be meek or amenable but she sure as hell wasn’t about to keep poking the beast that she’d awakened.

“Honey?” He growled.

She blinked, “Wha- what?”

“In your tea-” he uncrossed his arms and gestured to the mugs beside him, “Honey?”

“Um, yeah, that’s fine.”

He gave her a terse nod and began fixing their tea. With his back turned to her she took a deep, calming breath. She was no longer nervous, his reaction had been pretty much what she’d expected and that part was over with. Instead a hollow ache of longing had settled in her chest. There was nothing she wanted more than to talk like they used to, open and without pretense but also with a bit of teasing and flirting thrown in for good measure.

Killian topped his mug off with a splash of milk before turning and handing hers over. It was a white mug with a line drawing of a guitar and the words ‘I’m a kettle head’ written over it. She couldn’t help her snort of laughter at the sight of it.

“Something funny, Swan?” He asked with a raised brow, his cup of tea halfway to his lips.

She spun the mug so the graphic faced him, “Gag gift or did you buy this yourself?”

He rolled his eyes and took a sip of his tea but she could see his ears turning red. She let her own eyebrow tick up as he swallowed, shaking his head.

“Gift from a fan, actually. I made mention in an interview years ago that I enjoyed a good cup of tea in the afternoon. I’m still receiving packages of tea and its related wares on a steady basis-” he tipped his head towards her mug, “That was one of the more clever ones.”

Spinning it back so she could grasp it by the handle she hesitated. The opening was clear for her to start the conversation that needed to be had. She knew she should take advantage of it but he was no longer glaring at her and she wanted to bask in the small reprieve she’d found herself in. To prolong the moment she took a sip of her tea, humming at the soothing warmth and delicate flavor that danced over her tongue. The corner of Killian’s mouth ticked up and her heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“Not as good as my hot chocolate but it’ll do,” she teased.

Emma knew she’d pushed his patience to its breaking point a half second too late. Killian’s smile flared for a second before he pressed his lips together in a thin line and turned his gaze away from her. Her own small grin slipped and she berated herself for expecting too much too soon. She waited, quiet and still, until he looked back at her.

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes widened and he let out a little huff of surprise but she barreled on, needing to get it all out.

“I’m sorry for so many things, waiting ten days to show up, not calling the second I finished watching your video, blocking your number so you couldn’t call me, fighting with you when I answered Ruby’s phone-”

“Swan-”

“I get that you’re mad at me. Good, you should be. I was terrible to you and I know it’s no excuse but I was hurt and you lied to me, but I still should have given you a chance to explain-” she gave a little hiccuping laugh, “God, if you’d done that to me and showed up at my house I would have slammed the door in your face and been done with it. And you? You invited me in for tea? Why?”

Killian shook his head with a huff. She could see his smile threatening to break loose again and the sight mystified her. He saw her bewilderment and pushed off the counter behind him with his hip, setting his mug in front of hers and leaned into her space, gently taking her hand in his.

“Don’t you know, Emma?” He asked, painfully earnest. “You said you watched the video, so you must know.”

“You’re mad at me,” she pointed out, even as she gripped his hand.

He tilted his head, considering her, “I am but that doesn’t change how I feel.”

“I’m not sure how I feel,” she confessed in a whisper, “I know I hated not talking to you late at night or being near you almost constantly but…”

She trailed off, unsure how to proceed without stoking either of their tempers again. Killian’s thumb ran over the back of her hand, encouraging her, and she reveled in the feeling. He gave her an encouraging nod and she took a fortifying breath.

“You lied to me-” he winced and tried to pull his hand from hers but she held on fast, “You lied and if whatever this is between us is going to work I need to know why. I promise to actually listen this time.”

He gave her a pained smile, “And if you don’t like what you hear?”

“I won’t know until you tell me,” she countered softly.

“Alright,” he said with a nod, one that seemed more for himself than for her. “Alright, but can you promise me one more thing?”

“Anything,” she agreed quickly.

“No interruptions. I think it’ll do us both good to have it all out in one go.”

She used her free hand to mime that she was locking her lips and throwing away the key. He gave her a small snort of a laugh, no longer looking pained or apprehensive, which had been her goal. As she gently squeezed his hand in encouragement she really hoped she’d be able to keep her promise.

Killian blew out a harsh breath and began, “Are you familiar with Cora Hart?”

Her eyebrows shot up and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep her mouth shut. Cora Hart was the agent of all agents. Her firm was the one every struggling artist wished would represent them because every one of their clients was a superstar or on their way to being one. To be one of her personal clients was like getting a golden ticket to everlasting fame, fortune, and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. However, it came with a price and Emma wasn’t entirely convinced that it wasn’t someone’s soul. Plus Cora Hart was known by everyone in the industry as ‘that cold hearted bitch’. It was an unpleasant surprise to hear her name coming from Killian’s lips.

“Yes, I can see that you are,” he sighed. “She’s my agent.”

She grimaced. As much as she’d been prepared to hear it it still made her stomach drop. There were only so many ways his story was going to go and she wasn’t sure she was entirely ready to hear it, but she would, because she promised.

“I’ve been with her since the beginning. She found us playing at a small pub in Liverpool and snapped us up. If it weren’t for her we’d probably still be playing pub gigs but only on weekends-” he gave her a wan smile that didn’t last long, “I owe a lot to that woman, not everything but enough to know not to question her decisions on where to take my career. Even if I wanted to seek different representation she’s got me in an iron clad contract for at least three solo albums.”

“What?!”

She couldn’t help her outburst. While it was normal for a record label to offer contracts like that, she’d signed one herself for that matter, she was pretty sure it wasn’t standard for an agent to do the same. Then again she didn’t actually have an agent of her own. Regina was an employee of her label and didn’t need a separate contract with her and seemed more than happy to take care of everything herself. Emma thought that things had been working out alright, aside from the fiasco that had put her right where she found herself at that very moment.

“I have been bound by this contract for quite a while, Swan,” he said wryly. “Since even before the accident.”

“But that’s gotta be extortion or something, right?” She asked indignantly. “I mean, it’s been almost fifteen years!”

He gave her a warm look, “There are plenty of people who have been with their agents for much longer and I thought I said no interruptions, love.”

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly.

“Realm of Jewels made Cora a very rich woman and an equally hot commodity in the industry. I had already planned to do a few solo albums and signed with her because she was someone I already knew. Back then I thought three albums was nothing, I had written material for at least six,” he said with a shrug. “After the accident and pulling myself out of the bottle she was gracious enough to allow me to do whatever I needed to do to get my life back on track. Even if it meant nothing more than doing recording sessions for other artists’ work. Of course, her patience could only be pushed so far and I’m sure I’d far exceeded the limit. She started not so gently reminding me of my contractual obligations about a year ago.

“At the time I figured I could piecemeal something together from my old lyrics and maybe a cover or two to get an album together. It wouldn’t have been great, fair to middling if anything, but it would have been enough to satisfy Cora for the time being. I wasn’t excited by the prospect and in the meantime I was still being hired for session recordings. One of which was for your album.”

Emma smiled and ducked her head. He’d made it sound like it was some great honor instead of a few hours work on a couple of songs. She didn’t even get to choose the musicians that got to record, that was all left up to the label, though she did get final say on how it sounded. That didn’t mean to say she hadn’t gone back to listen to those backing tracks almost as much as the song he’d written for her.

“It was the day we were recording for Snowdrops and Buttercups that I first met Regina. It just so happened to be the same day that Cora had come to the studio to once again remind me of my obligations. What I wasn’t aware of was the fact that Cora is Regina’s mother-” Emma’s head shot up at that and he nodded, “Whatever you do try to avoid being in the same room as them, especially when business is involved. I left the studio that day with my three album contract inexorably attached to the record label that Regina represented. There was also the small inconvenience of a series of deadlines being imposed. The first of which was having enough songs written to begin recording an album within six months. When Ruby called about needing a replacement I had about two months left to put something recordable together.”

Emma bit her lip. It was getting harder and harder to keep her comments and questions to herself. Especially with the bomb he’d dropped about Regina and Cora. She decided to take a sip of her tea instead. Before her mug even made it to her lips Killian was grinning widely at her.

“Go ahead, love,” he said with a bow of his head.

She slammed her mug down, splashing tea over her hand. With a hiss she shook off the droplets impatiently, ignoring Killian’s outstretched hand, not wanting to be deterred.

“Cora the heartless is Regina’s mother?! And if you had only two months to write an entire album why the hell were you allowed to come on tour with me? Is that why you had that lunch with Robin and Regina? For the album? Why didn’t you tell me all of this already?”

Killian’s expression immediately dropped into one of regret as she sat back, stunned at her directness. She absentmindedly rubbed at the reddened spot on the back of her hand that the tea had spilled on. The lingering pain was an excellent distraction from the tension that had sprung up between them. With a click of his tongue Killian moved to the sink, wetting the corner of a dish rag. When he turned back to her he paused and she gave him a nod, holding out her hand to him hoping he would see it as the olive branch she was offering.

“At first it didn’t seem as though it would be an issue,” he said quietly as he gently pressed the rag to her burn, “You only needed a temporary guitarist and as I mentioned earlier I had dozens of notebooks already filled with lyrics that would suffice. Regina was the one who scheduled the meeting with Robin as soon as I was officially attached to the tour. I believe her intention at the time was for me to hand over the completed songs and get the ball rolling as it were. She, of course, had no idea that you and I would become what we did.”

“Did you, um, have any idea?” She asked hesitantly, dropping her gaze to where his hand was still holding the damp cloth to the back of hers.

He used his other hand to tip up her chin and looked her in the eye, “I’d hoped but I could never be quite sure how you felt. Until Chicago.”

She wanted to confess that her hopes had started long before Chicago. That he had somehow snuck past her defenses into her heart with his charm and unwavering support but she couldn’t. He still hadn’t answered the question that mattered most to her. With a sigh she pulled away from his gentle touch.

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me any of this,” she said a bit sharper than she intended, her frustration and confusion bleeding into her tone. “We talked for hours on that damn bus. I listened to you talk about how much better felt tip pens are than ball points three separate times! Was it really so hard to say ‘by the way, Swan, I’ve signed with your manager and have to get an album written while we’re on the road’?”

He let out a heavy breath and ran a hand through his hair, “I didn’t want to upset you.”

“And look where that got you,” she said with a humorless chuckle waving her hand between them. “If you’d said something off the bat I would have been pissed at you for, like maybe a week, and I also wouldn’t have gotten my heart broken.”

Emma froze. She hadn’t meant to make that confession, especially when she wasn’t even one hundred percent sure what it was she felt for him. Killian seemed caught off guard too, as he stood staring at her with wide eyes and not appearing to breathe. He blinked and closed the small distance between them but made no move to touch her.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he murmured.

“You’re glad to hear I got my heart broken?” Her voice cracked and she pulled as far back from him as she could.

“If it can be broken, it means it still works,” he said softly but she could hear the hope in his words all the same. “I know I hurt you immeasurably, love, and I’ve earned no right to a second chance but if you can see it in you to do so I’ll gladly spend the rest of my days earning your back your trust and, perhaps in time, your heart.”

“Killian…”

“Finish your tea, Swan,” he said with a tight smile though his eyes were sparkling with the same hope she’d heard, “Don’t want it to get cold.”

She stared down at the amber liquid and watched the curling tendrils of steam as though they’d give her some kind of sign of what to do. They didn’t, of course, not that she really believed it would be that easy. There were still so many questions she wanted to ask but only one really mattered. Guarding herself against a final blow she looked up at him with determination.

“Were you ever going to tell me about any of it? Or was it always your plan for me to find out from someone else?”

Killian jolted back, as though she’d slapped him. He shook his head with a sigh before running a hand over his face. When he caught her eye again the hope had been replaced with pain and a flash of the anger she’d thought was behind them.

“I’d intended to tell you everything the night of the interview over the dinner we were supposed to share at my home. I suppose it was fortuitous that I’d listened to it or I would have sat with our meal laid out on the table, waiting for hours for your arrival. As it was I had to endure one of Regina’s assistants traipsing through the house, gathering your items and ignoring my pleas to explain what the hell was going on. Then, of course, there was to be no explanations forthcoming for nearly three days and absolute devastation once I’d received them. But after all that my feelings for you never changed, not once.”

Emma sucked in a breath at that. Even as he was justifiably dressing her down for what she’d done he was still playing it safe. He’d never stated outright what he felt for her but she knew without a doubt what he wasn’t saying. Funny thing was, his caution made her realize exactly what she felt for him with startling clarity. She gave a little laugh that bordered on manic but she was helpless against the sudden euphoria she was feeling.

Killian glared at her, “I won’t have you laughing-”

“I love you.”

The words seemed to hang between them in the quiet kitchen like a line cast out to the unknown. She could only hope that Killian would grasp onto them and tether her heart to his. As the silence stretched out she found she only wished she had told him sooner instead of dragging out both their heartaches. Shaking her head at her own stubborn foolishness she gave him a tremulous smile.

“I love you and I’m sorry. I was trying so hard to protect myself from getting hurt again that I just hurt us both so much more instead. I’m so tired of feeling like I tore a piece of my own heart out. You said your feelings haven’t changed. I want this. I want us. Do you?”

Instead of answering her with words Killian moved at a speed that surprised her. Almost before she had finished the question he was standing in front of her, his arms bracketing her with his hands on the back of the chair and the counter. His expression was deadly serious but his eyes were lit with joy as he leaned into her space.

“Swan, I want nothing more.”

Her smile was cut off by his lips pressing to hers. She gasped as one of his hands delved into her hair while the other banded around her waist, his thumb stroking at the skin above the waistband of her jeans. It was as if he was pouring every emotion into the kiss. His passion, his elation, his fervor, and most of all his love. With a moan she pulled him impossibly closer, hooking her ankles around the back of his legs to draw him in.

To her surprise he broke away, leaning his forehead against hers, breathing heavily, “There’s one last thing that needs to be said.”

“Now?” She panted, arching up slightly to nip at his lower lip. “Can’t it wait?”

“Not really,” he groaned. He kissed the corner of her mouth, then her cheek, sliding his mouth to her ear where he quietly sang to her, “But I wouldn't trade a day for the chance to say, My love, I'm in love with you.”

Tears welled in her eyes as he pulled back, looking at her as though she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He gently brushed away the few tears that had fallen with a finger, following closely behind with soft kisses that travelled across her cheeks, leaving her wanting more. By the time he moved to her mouth the heat between them had returned but she leaned back before he could press more than one delicate kiss to her lips.

“Emma,” he growled, his hand flexing on the back of her neck, his eyes hot.

“You know, you never gave me a tour of the place-” she gave him a teasing smile and gave an exaggerated look around, “I bet there’s all sorts of interesting rooms.”

He caught on quickly, his smile unfurling into something wicked, “Indeed there are, my love. Shall we begin with the bedroom?”

He didn’t give her the chance to answer as he swiftly pulled her up from her chair and tugged her quickly down the hallway.

Much, much later Emma was seated back at the breakfast bar in nothing but her underwear and Killian’s Led Zeppelin shirt. Her feet were perched in Killian’s lap, which was covered by dark blue boxer briefs that he’d only pulled on when the pizza they’d ordered had arrived. She tried to smother a giddy grin behind her crust but he caught sight of it and raised a brow at her.

“Something you’d like to share, Swan?”

“I’m just-” she gave a little shrug, “happy. I guess I’m still trying to process it.”

“I know what you mean, love,” he agreed, his hand dropping to her ankle to give it a squeeze. “If someone had told me yesterday that we would be here tonight, like this, I wouldn’t have believed them. Now, if they’d predicted us reconciling by the end of the week I wouldn’t have questioned it.”

“No?” She asked, humming in pleasure at the confidence in his voice.

“You’re not the only one who can wheedle an address out of Regina,” he said with a wink. Then he grew serious, “If I hadn’t heard from you by the end of the week I was planning on driving up to Maine to plead my case.”

“I’m surprised she gave it to you,” she mumbled around a bite of her crust. “She was all worried about you breaching your contract because of deadlines two weeks ago. A side trip to Maine would definitely eat into your studio time or something.”

“Oh-” Killian scratched behind his ear and then said offhandedly, “I’ve, er, been in breach of my contract since I posted that video, love.”

Her last bite fell from her fingers as she gaped at him. A flush was rising along the back of his neck and he gave her a sheepish smile.

“What?”

“Well, according to some of the very fine print in it I was forbidden from releasing any music by means other than through the label-” he shrugged and waved a hand as though dismissing the seriousness of the situation, “My lawyer assures me that at most I’ll only have to pay a minimal fine.”

“Pay a…” she brought her palms to her temples, “Killian that’s still going to be thousands of dollars.”

“I would have posted a hundred unsanctioned songs and paid every cent I have to my name just to get you to talk to me again,” he said matter of factly. He leaned over and plucked the piece of crust from her lap, tossing it into the open pizza box before fixing her gaze with his, “And it would have been worth it. You are worth everything.”

She dropped her hands with a huff, “Stop being romantic when I’m worrying about you.”

“Never,” he said with a wide grin that made his eyes crinkle. “And you don’t need to worry about me, Swan, I’m a survivor.”

“I love you,” she said with a shrug, “I’ll always worry about you.”

His grin mellowed into something that made her feel warm and cherished. He leaned over and grasped her stool, dragging it towards him until the already small distance between them was narrowed so only a puff of air could pass through. She gave a wayward thought to the state of his floors at the abuse they suffered but it vanished as his hand came up to cup her jaw, his thumb drawing a delicate arc across her cheekbone.

“I love you too,” he murmured just above a whisper, his eyes intent on hers, “I always will.”

Her happy sigh was swallowed by his lips on hers. The kiss was far more gentle than any of the others they had shared, even the ones from before their separation. With a slight thrill she realized that they would have hundreds, even thousands, more kisses of all sorts in the years to come. As they parted she couldn’t help her giddy smile at the thought.

Killian raised his brow at her, his gaze teasing, “Already, Swan? We’ve only just surfaced.”

“What? No!” She laughed, pushing him back, “I mean, yeah but not like that. I was thinking about us kissing but years from now kind of kisses.”

“Years from now,” he repeated in awe. He leaned back towards her, “I like the sound of that.”

“Me too,” she sighed. Then she crinkled her nose at him, “Even if I do end up supporting you because you have to keep paying fines since you’re a big YouTube star now. I know how you guys gotta keep posting content.”

“Har, har, love. Just so you know, Cora has already spun this in my favor,” he said smugly. “She’s convinced the label that it’s the perfect way to garner attention for my forthcoming album. Which is why I’ll only be paying a minimal fine instead of what it easily could have been.”

Emma sat back, “So you’re still going to do it? Record the album?”

“Not exactly, no,” he said with a crooked smile, “The songs I was planning on recording before are, quite honestly, rubbish. I’ve had a wellspring of inspiration these past few weeks. Robin is quite pleased with them as a matter of fact and he’s not hold back over the years when something of mine is only worthy of a bin. I’ll be heading to the studio once the whole contract debacle is taken care of. That is, of course, only if you agree.”

“Agree to what?” She asked, confused.

“The songs, my love-” he dropped his eyes for a moment and when he looked back up his gaze was wary, “You, us, what we’ve been through? Well… you know.”

And she did. She’d written dozens of songs about the man who’d left her in jail and pregnant and just as many about her lonely childhood in foster care. There was more than one notebook filled with longing ballads about the son she’d never even held. Hell, the notebook in her purse was pages of scribbles and half formed lyrics about Killian and their time together. So she knew exactly what he was getting at. She also had one niggling thought about it.

“Yeah, I do,” she said with a slow nod. Reaching towards him she took his hand between hers, “I think you should record the songs you’ve written, even the ones that I know don’t paint me in the best light, but I do have one request.”

“Anything,” he breathed, his hand flexing in hers.

“I don’t want to hear any of them until the final mix-” she let go of his hand to cover his mouth as he tried to protest, “No, hear me out first. I’m sure the songs are good, great even since Robin is excited about them, and that’s exactly why I want to wait to hear them. I know how much work goes into making an album and thanks to Ruby you know exactly how big a fan I am of your music. I just- I think I want to have that giddy moment listening to your first big solo album as the finished thing.”

Killian tugged her hand away from his lips and gave her a wry grin, “So you want to enjoy the sausage without seeing all the unappetizing steps of how it gets made?”

“Uh, weird analogy but yeah,” she said, relieved that it hadn’t caused another fight, “I wouldn’t mind seeing the pigs before slaughter though.”

“So you’ll berate me for the initial analogy but then proceed to take it to a much darker place. I see how your mind works, Swan,” Killian said with narrowed eyes and a look of mock sternness.

“I work with what I’m given,” she said with a shrug.

Killian huffed out a laugh before he grew serious, taking the hand that was still in his and placing them both over his heart, “You can look at every song I’ve ever written, love. Even the shit ones from primary school.”

She gave him a smile she knew was giddy, “Oh, I definitely want to look at those but I think for now I’ll stick to your most recent ones.”

“Wise decision,” he murmured,half rising from his stool, “Shall I go get them now?”

“No, it’s late, I can look at them tomorrow-” she flexed her fingers on his chest and when he looked back at her she tried to let him see every ounce of love she was feeling, “I’m not going anywhere.”

His smile unfurled slowly but adoration and love was bright in his eyes, “Good.”

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fan fic #cs fanfic #captain swan fan fiction #captain swan fan fic #captain swan fanfic #captain swan ff #ouat ff #my writing

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mystiphying · 4 years

Text

Pulled To You

↳ CHAPTER THREE

PAIRING: Randall Carpio x June Sutton (OC) SUMMARY: In her first year at Belgrave University, June somehow goes from having a little crush on her RA to hiding in supply closets and sneaking around with him. And later finds herself a little in over her head, once a mysterious book leads her down a path she can't un-walk. CHAPTER THEMES: Tiny bit of sneaking around, Very soft foreplay, Implied smut CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 1.2k

⇢ MASTERLIST

June closed the door behind Randall for the second time that day and returned to sitting on the floor. As much as she had enjoyed his company that stupid book had been nagging at her thoughts. There was something about it that was like nothing she’d seen before. Or maybe felt before. This pull that wouldn’t leave her alone. She pulled the book from under her bed, and flipped through the pages once more. The once completely unintelligible script was now a little less confusing, but still incomprehensible. But there was something that urged her to follow it. Like some kind of dowsing rod. The thought made her feel uneasy but she still held the book out in front of her, seeing if it would lead her somewhere. The weight of the book suddenly felt a little lighter as it pulled her to the door, and her feet followed it as it drew her out. June let it take her further, out the dorm, down the stairs. Her feet bare, slapped on the stone pavement leading out of the campus and eventually met the warm earth of a forest path. Sticks and twigs poked at her feet, but wet leaves softened the blow. Her usual fears guided by self-preservation seemed to be dampened by whatever was compelling her to follow the book. How far or long she had walked was hazy, but the blur ended once she met the end of the trees and found a clearing around a large old house. Aged and unkempt, it somehow still seemed lived in. She looked around, eyes landing on a large gate dividing the house and an open road. June’s common sense was telling her loud and clear to get away from the building, to go home. The book pulled her closer, or at least tried to. But the mysterious book lost to safety precautions and the fear of having to use her whistle.

The walk back to the school was confusing until she remembered she had her phone in her pocket and Google Maps, and from there it was a piece of cake. Despite the frighteningly loud howl and the anxiety she felt when the trees would rustle, she had made it back to her dorm in one piece, returning to a room she didn’t quite remember leaving in such a mess but tidied it up before heading to the showers. The dirt on her feet and elsewhere from her weird walk in the woods needed to be washed off and she needed to get into bed. By now it was probably daylight and she hadn’t slept all night. Her entire shower was spent confused by what had happened that night. The lingering thoughts followed her out of the steamy shower and down the hall, into bed. Her head hit the pillow, and despite her intense tiredness, she took one last glance at the book before she finally drifted to sleep.

Waking up the next morning, June felt like she’d been dreaming all night, but the book was still there, and her towel was hanging on her chair, where she had left it after her shower. She tried to ignore it all and decided the best way to kick off the weekend was with a nice breakfast. She got dressed, pulling her jeans on, then a large jumper over her tee-shirt and she was out the door. A pep in her step, an excitement for pancakes and maybe a fruit smoothie. Her shoes met the pavement, instead of bare feet, and she walked to one of the campus cafés. The weather was fine and the air felt crisp. Music played through her earphones as she bounced down the path. June loved Saturdays, and especially when they started off right. “Can I get some pancakes and… a…” June’s finger ran over the menu, trailing down the list of drinks. “Banana and berry smoothie.” A voice said from behind, completing her thought. June looked over her shoulder to see him. She turned back to the cashier and made the order before saying anything to him. “So I sneak up on you, you sneak up on me. Is this going to be our thing?” Randall smiled and she still couldn’t help herself from smiling back. “You know, you’re making this whole,” she dropped her voice to a whisper, “sneaking around thing kind of hard.” “Oh, in what way?” She couldn’t see it from where she was standing beside him but she knew he was grinning, well aware of the affect he had on her. She shook her head and crossed her arms. “If you’re willing to sit with me through my lunchtime breakfast,” She looked over to him before finishing her sentence “we can maybe go somewhere after?” She suggested, giving him a smile he knew suggested something more as she nudged her shoulder into his. “God, I’m making it hard?” “That’s what she said.” June said, biting her lip to stifle a laugh.

Instead of their usual favourite spot of the supply closet in one of the science buildings, they opted for something a little closer to where they had just been. Although Randall shared his dorm with his roommate, his roommate took a weekend class for some reason. As much as he thought it was a weird choice, he wasn’t going to think about it much past the convenience it brought in that moment. They walked back to the dorms, making small talk and pretending to talk about an issue she was having with her room whenever someone passed them in the hall. But as soon as he closed the door to his, oddly minimalist, dorm room, she pounced on him, almost knocking him over in the process. They couldn’t keep their hands to themselves, her hands desperately trying to get his jumper over his head and the shirt beneath with it, his hands down her back, then attempting to peel off her clothes as well. Caught in layers, they pulled their own clothes off, not leaving much room for anything romantic and slow, instead driven by the desperation to be held and felt. His lips attached to her as she fell onto the bed, kissing her between the readjusting and preparation. And in the middle of it all he caught her eye and they stopped to breathe for a moment. Her hair spilled across his pillow and deep enchanting eyes stared back at him as he held himself above her. A hand moved to rest on his face and stroke his cheek. She smiled and pulled him back down into her, kissing him again. They rolled to their sides, suddenly preoccupied with each other’s lips and not tearing the rest of their clothes off. She pulled herself from his lips and kissed at his neck, sucking lightly here and there. He moaned quietly. Touch, scent, sight; consumed by the girl beside him. He brought her back to face him with a call of her name and kissed her again. June moved to sit on his hips. She bit her lip while smiling shyly, looking into his deep brown eyes, catching their glimmer and warmth. The way he looked at her was so full of affection, like he was looking at someone he adored. She did wonder what he thought of her, what she meant to him. They hadn’t really talked about it; about what they were. And as he rubbed circles on her wrist, she chose to push the thought aside. She ran her hands down his chest before shimmying herself down to pull at the waistband of his sweatpants. Randall shifted beneath her, quickly getting back to where they had been before. Muffled moans and a swaying bed frame, this is how they liked to spend their free time.

PROLOGUE ⇢ CHAPTER 1 ⇢ CHAPTER 2 ⇢ CHAPTER 3 ⇢ CHAPTER 4

A/N: When I wrote the shy smile thing in that last bit... Why did Debby Ryan come to mind... Sorry if it made anyone reading cringe...

#the order fanfiction #the order imagine #randall carpio imagine #randall carpio fanfiction #randall carpio #the order netflix #the knights of saint christopher

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impala1967dwinchester · 4 years

Text

Sam Winchester: Smarts

*Not My GIF*

Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader

Point of view: Sams pov

Warnings: lite cussing, cuteness, dash of cockiness

Summary: Sam shows off just how smart he really is in a game of 20 Questions

Rating: R

Word Count: 2,033

Y/n and I sat down in bed after a hard day's work searching and looking for any news of any new cases for them to work on. Y/n had been wanting to spend more time together, make sure we still knew each other like the back of our hands.

So she went looking on Pinterest, all I could hear was the clicking of her nails against her phone screen. She looked for seemed like hours, but in all reality was only 10 minutes. I hadn't asked her not yet at least what she was looking upon her phone until she shoved the screen in my face.

The top of the image read 'Love Map Question' I moved her phone out of my face giving me the ability to again look at her. I tilted my head, not bothering with reading the questions that were down below. "Why are you showing me this Y/n?" I asked in hopes of finding the path in her madness of ideas running through her brain.

"I told you I wanna spend more time with you, so why not play a little game of 20 questions!" Her tone excited, her face was bright the brights I had seen it since way back. "Okay, but if you must know I will most likely win this "game" I know you like the back of my hand Y/n," I said with a cocky attitude.

She had me pull out a piece of paper wanting me to write all the questions down. I looked at her and shook my head taking the phone from her hands. I read the first question aloud.

"Name your partner's two closest friends"

"Castiel and your brother Dean." She said I laughed not only because she was right but because she always had the need to say "your brother Dean" like I didn't know Dean was my brother. "So mister who are my 2 closest friends huh punk," she said rolling her eyes.

"Your 2 closest friends are..... Jody and my mother Mary" I laughed she puffed crossing her arms across her chest making her shirt come down giving me a better view of her chest. I went on to ask the second question

"What is your partner's favorite musical group, composer, or instrument?"

"Ummmm.... definitely not what your brother listens to." She said looking down into her lap. It took me a minute but I don't think she really knows what I listen to. Which wasn't really her fault, just my brothers since you know no else is allowed to play any other type of music.

"First off, it's fine that you don't know who or what type of music is listen. It's my brother's fault anyway. And your favorite composer is Mozart if I do recall." She looked up at me grabbing my arm and lopping it around her waist.

"What was your partner wearing when you first met?"

"Oh my gosh, Sam I totally remember what you were wearing. Of course, you were wearing a green flannel which by the way looked amazing on you, and you had some jeans on" she said with a wide smile written all over his face. "And you y/n you had on some tight fucking jeans, and a red and black flannel unbuttoned like you wanted me to see down your shirt and see those amazing tits of yours.

"What are your partner's hobbies?"

"Your favorite hobbies are Reading about literally anything, and going for morning runs." She said with loving eyes looking back up at me. "Your favorite hobbies are sleeping, an..." she cut me off slapping me in the arm her phone fell to the floor. "Oh come on now I have to get up and get your phone, but no your favorite hobbies are cooking and the gun range." I had to get up and get her phone from the floor, my spot losing the warmth of me sitting there for such a long time.

"Where was your partner born? Well that's an easy question" I said

"Sam, you were born in the good old heart of America. Kansas, Lawrence." The good old heart of America god she was the pretties but not the smartest person in the bunch. "Honey, you do know that Kansas is not the heart of America. But you were born in California, San Diego. The warmest place like ever." I said with a pop in the word place.

"What stresses are facing your partner in the immediate future?"

"If it isn't the end of the world, lucifer, your brother taking on the mark of Cain, or Chuck ending the world. I really don't know Sam." She said while counting on her fingers about how many times the future of our lives had been almost destroyed. I really had to think of an answer to the question.

"I guess, A big stress would maybe be losing me, or something along those lines," I said a sadden tone heard in my voice.

"Describe in detail your partner's day, either today or yesterday."

"That's easy." She said with sass and snap of her fingers in front of my face. "You mister wake up go for a run, come back home shower and then eat some vegan food, read, and maybe research for a case. Then you repeat all over again sir." She said

I smiled pulling her closer to my body. Even though we were already so close to each other.

"And you, you wake up after sleeping way later than anyone else, you shower maybe put on some make-up then you cook or at least try not to burn the kitchen. You then come and find me and mess around with me, and maybe you go find Dean and help him." Jeez, I had never thought about how much she really did mess around with me.

"When is your partner's birthdate?"

"Sammys your birthdate is on May 2nd of 1983" A smile crossing her entire face, and a giggle. "Well, Sam when is my birthday, huh?"

"Your birthday is on June 21st, 1981. You know you're older than me, but I am way more mature than you are baby." I had to add "baby" in there since she would probably be a little pissed because of my comment. "Next question!" She said loudly.

"What is the date of your anniversary?"

At the same time, we said "August 29th of 2017." A huge smile on our faces, we weren't married yet but that was the day that I had asked her out on our first date. I continued reading off the questions.

"Who is your partner's most favorite relative?"

"Well, y/n your most favorite relative is still your grandmother. You know we should visit her sometime." I said trying to lighten the mood. She never really did like to talk about her, she had passed around the same year we had gotten together.

"Umm, Yeah we probably should bring some flowers to her grave to. But Sam your most favorite relative was your mom before and after she passed, and 2nd, of course, is Mr.Singer" She said her head landing on my shoulder.

"What is your partner's fondest dream, as yet unachieved?"

"Fondest dream yet unachieved? To be truthful with you Sam I don't know, maybe living a normal hunting free life." She said while looking over at the tv that was paused on whatever we were watching.

"Your unachieved dream would have to have kids, and knowing you it wouldn't just be 2 kids it would like 5," I said with a laugh.

"What is your partner's favorite flower?"

"I think your favorite flower is... Carnation." She said with her fingers in an L shaped under chin think she was thinking really hard.

"I know your favorite flower, your favorite flowers are hydrangea and roses. You like romantic flowers." I said

"What is one of your partners the greatest disaster scenarios?"

"Zombies, Sam. That's all I am going to say."

"Jeez, I don't talk that much about zombies do I?" She gave me a look like "Are you being serious?". "Anyways, your greatest disaster scenarios are an apocalypse, which is like the same thing as Zombies," I said rolling my eyes.

"What is your partner's favorite time for making love?"

"Ohh some exciting questions now! You have runners high so I would say right after a run even if you have to wake me up. Oh, and you love it when Dean is here you like sho.." She said I clamp my hand over her mouth not wanting to hear anything more about me and my showing off, even though I know I am good at it.

"Fine, wanna be like that, you always, and when I say always I mean every time we win a case. Regardless of where we are. Nasty little girl you are." I said y/n had blushing running over her cheeks and the tip of her nose. Her nose scrunched up while looking up at me. It wasn't the reaction I thought I was going to get but still, it was enough to make her blush, so I would say mission accomplished.

"What makes your partners feel most competent?"

"Definitely after saving the world for what seems like the 5th time." Damn, that just rolled right off her tongue.

"First off, you said that like that is always at the forefront of your mind. Second I would say after we save a bunch of kids during a case." She hummed in response telling me I was right about at least one of those things.

"What turns your partner on sexually?"

"You like my beard when I do have it, definitely when I'm using my smart during a case, and of course my eyes." The cocky attitude rolling off my tongue and into her mind.

"Really, I like your smarts... Jesus. Well, you Sir love my hips, any of my tight jeans, my lips, my eyes, and you love my heart and brain." She knew she had gotten me when she said her heart. I think she knows me a little too well.

"What is your partner's favorite meal?"

"Salad isn't a meal. But that's all I got." She said rolling her eyes while smiling.

"Pancakes and fruit isn't a meal either!" I said laughing, causing Y/n to laugh causing her smile to come out. Which only made me happier then I was before.

"What is your partner's favorite way to spend an evening?"

"You like to sit down and watch the old movies, no matter who is in them," I said

"You like sitting in the library, and snuggling while we read some books, and for you, it doesn't seem to matter what kind of books we are reading as long as we are together, besides each other." Y/n said pulling me further into the sheets and covers.

"What is your partner's favorite color?"

"Oh, Sam your favorite color is green! Just like your eyes sometimes." Y/n said with a giggle and a yawn in her voice. Her voice becoming a little too timid.

"Well missy, you sound and look tired there's only one more question anyways. Your favorite color is red and sometimes purple, and black, and green, and blue. At this damn point, it might as well be all the color of the rainbow." I said but not before Y/n could punch me in the stomach lightly of course.

"What personal improvements does your partner want to make?"

"Personal improvements? Huh, I'd have to say not sacrificing yourself every chance you get Sam, honey." Y/n said with another yawn

"Personal improvements. Probably that you tend to take care of everyone else first and end up forgetting yourself at the end of the day."

I looked over at her, grabbing her chin and pulling her into a soft and calming kiss. She closed her eyes kissing me back and pulled away leaving her head resting on my shoulder. I ended up putting her phone on my bedside table and turned the light off, letting the sleep that wanted to win, finally win over my body.

#fluff #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #fem reader #supernatural fic #supernatural x reader

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agustdomain · 4 years

Text

Ventana

Synopsis: Your favorite window seat and silence were unexpected allies in the love that grew between you and your neighbor.

Word count: 6k (a baby considering my other works but I love it just the same)

Genre: neighbor!au, boynextdoor!au, fluff, nothing too grand but it is something light-hearted.

Warnings: Some language. Teeth-rottening sweetness, really.

Pairing: Jisung x Reader, ft. Chenle, Jaemin and Jeno!

Author’s Note: Hey friends! This is a short and sweet dessert to hold you over for the main course coming up! I missed my dreamies so I wanted to write something for them. But I can’t wait for your thoughts on my chris work coming up. I have lots planned for the summer so brace yourselves! ~Angelo

The sun was heartless on this beautiful summer day. The window you lounged beside had been your absolute favorite spot in said house since your family moved in when you were younger . Most summers growing up, it was hard for your sisters to convince you to move from that little window seat. The summers were solely yours- that was, until Jisung started staining them.

Looking back on it, all of your favorite memories of Jisung were bathed in summer glow.

Your first memory was when you were eight years old. Mid-June, perched on your window seat and reading through the Goosebumps books you owned one by one. Your mom had forced you and your sisters to go introduce yourselves to his family next door. You were brief with him, but he was super quiet and only stared at you wide-eyed and with nothing to say.

Back then he didn’t have glasses yet. He was a short, lanky boy with a bowl cut, peeking at you from his second story window almost every single day that summer. It made you smile behind the pages, the first time in a long time distracted from the words filling your mind. After the first time you noticed, however, you ignored him for the rest of that summer. You didn’t even pay him mind when his curtains would obviously dance whenever he thought you were going to catch him watching you.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Your second memory was when you were twelve.

Your oldest sister Chaeryeong- 13 and a fire in her blood like mom-adamantly insisted that you and your younger sister join her for the school dance. If Chae was one thing, it was persuasive. You wouldn’t have gone, after all, if she wasn’t going to use her saved up allowance money to buy you a new DS game.

Besides, you had been wanting to wear your new summer dress for a while now. And it wasn’t going to hurt to see your friends one last time before the school year ended.

Yuna, the youngest and 11 at the time, complained the entire car ride there. Chae knew the exact words to shut her up, sharing a look with you from the passenger seat before dramatically drawing out, “I just remembered who’s going to be there!”

Yuna narrowed her eyes at the headrest before her, causing you to stifle a laugh.

“That’s right! Ryu told me that Chenle was coming tonight!”

Yuna glared at you as you tried and failed to stop smiling. “Shut up,” She crossed her arms defiantly, “I don’t care if he’s going.”

You all knew perfectly well that Yuna was sporting major heart eyes for the boy who had recently moved in down the street with his family. Even your mom was hiding behind her smile in the driver seat.

“Leave her alone,” She said, though her tone suggested her scolding wasn’t serious. Chae’s methods worked though, as Yuna was silent the rest of the ride there, fiddling with her dress and hair.

Inside the small gymnasium, you quickly wondered if a DS game was worth the stifling and humid air. The lights were flashing green and blue, and the air still smelled like sneakers and basketballs. And sweat.

“Chae!” Yuna whined as your eldest sister forgot all about you two at the sight of her best friends. “She drives me crazy!”

“Tell me about it,” You told her, your eyes scanning the dark room. You couldn’t spot any of your friends, but you didn’t really want to walk through your sweaty peers. “I’m starting to wonder if a DS game was worth this!”

Yuna looked over at you, face shocked. “You’re getting a game out of this?”

Eventually, you and your sister got comfortable on the bleachers, playing hand games to pass the time. Soon, you got bored and quiet as you observed your classmates around you. For some reason, the darkness and loud music gave them the excuse to act like they were adults.

“Do you see Jeno over there? He’s dancing so close to Ryujin! I didn’t even think that was allowed,” Yuna whispered, face flushed from the heat of the room. How was a school dance a good idea in May?

“Look,” You pointed at the chaperone beelining toward them, “They’re about to get yelled at.” You both broke into fits of laughter as your school’s P.E. teacher wiggled his arms dramatically, Ryujin quickly scattering away as Jeno tried to talk down his coach.

“Chae would get in so much trouble with mom if she did that,” Yuna shivered at the thought.

“She’s smarter than Ryu, though.”

“Is she, though?”

“Fair point.”

Then, something strange happened. One moment, you two were gossiping more than you should have been, the next there were two boys in front of you.

Zhong Chenle was awkward and his haircut was one he usually hid under a beanie. Tonight, it was slicked back with gel, a red bowtie bright somehow in the dark room. But not as bright as his smile. Beside him was the neighbor who always liked to quietly watch you from his bedroom window, Park Jisung.

Jisung was always quiet, even in class. Never speaking up unless prompted to by Mr. Harris. Yet, he was still one of Mr. Harris’ favorites. He was about the same height as Chenle back then, his presence less vibrant. Yet, you still noticed him.

“You’re Y/N,” Chenle pointed a finger at you, then trailed it over to your sister, “And Yuna, right?”

Yuna gawked up at him, utterly floored by the presence of her crush. Not to mention, the fact that he was talking to her. Elbowing her, you smiled.

“Yes, that’s us.”

“I’m Chenle,” He reached his hand out to shake yours, always keeping that bright smile. His hand lingered on your sister’s, and you were slightly worried she was going to pass out. “This here is Jisung. I’m sure you’ve met him before.”

You nodded slightly, feeling his eyes on you. “We’re neighbors. And in the same class.”

“We just noticed you were sitting all alone and realized that hey, we’re the life of the party, and if we bring the party to you,” Chenle tapped his chin before shouting, “You won’t feel so alone anymore!”

You blinked at him. “Uhhhh-” Your eyes trailed to Jisung behind him then, his mouth urgently mouthing something to you as he frantically and subtly pointed at something. You realized what he was mouthing at the same time Chenle stuttered while talking to Yuna.

He likes her, he mouthed at you.

Smiling mischievously, you stretched your arms out like a cat waking up from a nap, “Yeah, I’m feeling pretty tired actually.”

“Me too,” Jisung mocked your fake yawn, taking a seat beside you.

With a smile you could barely hide, you said, “But Yuna loves to dance. I always catch her dancing to Jesse McCartney late at night when she thinks we’re all asleep.”

“Y/N! Why would you-” Yuna, who looked mortified, quickly grew quiet when Chenle’s face brightened.

“I love Jesse McCartney,” Chenle’s smile was kind, sweet. As he and Yuna shared a moment, you realized that your sister’s dream was unravelling before you. All she needed was a chance.

Soon, it was just you and Jisung. The silence was awkward, but you didn’t mind as you daydreamed about the new game you were going to get. Should you get Nintendogs? Everyone talks about it these days.

“He hasn’t stopped talking about her since the day I met him,” Jisung talked so quietly, you almost missed it. But something about his voice, as quiet as it was, you would still hear even if you were miles apart. Okay, that was dramatic but it was crazy you heard him in the first place.

“Same goes for Yuna. She wouldn’t move from the porch since the day he moved in.”

Jisung cracked a smile. “I always wondered why she would be out there all day.”

You played with the hem of your dress, side-eyeing the boy beside him. For the first time, you realized just how cute his face was. Shaking the thought away, you rose to your feet and hopped down each bleacher before reaching the bottom. Looking up at Jisung, you missed how he never stopped looking at you. “I heard there’s some leftover cookies. We gotta find them. You in?”

“As long as they’re not raisin or oatmeal.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Your third memory? You were fifteen and going through a romantic and contemporary book phase. Why was that special? Well, it meant that window seats weren’t romantic enough anymore and you needed the outdoors to immerse you in the experiences of Jane Austen.

Chae had a secret boyfriend now- not so secret since your mom knew just about everything courtesy of Yuna’s big mouth, but Chae thought she was being sly. Now that she had a part-time job, her bribery with you was bigger and better, and free money had always been your biggest weakness.

Which is why you were always stuck third-wheeling when you went to the park. Chae ignored your huffs and puffs as she cooed and kissed her boyfriend Renjun. Beneath the trees, as Darcy drew you in and the sounds of swings creaking became your background music, you could forget about the gross PDA your sister never spared you from.

That was, until one day Chae got smacked in the face with a basketball.

“What the f-” Renjun jumped to his feet as Chae held her nose, blood pouring from behind her hand.

Your eyes were wide, book forgotten as you crouched near her. As you rummaged through your bag, then hers, a shaky voice gathered your attention.

“I-I’m so sorry. It banked off the headboard and went flying!” Eyes trailing up the Nike shoes, the red basketball shorts, the shirt too big for the boy before you, Jisung held his hands up in surrender as his face drowned in sweat and worry.

“You think that makes it okay?” Renjun snapped, picking up the basketball then chucking it at Jisung. Jisung, unprepared, coughed at the impact with his chest.

“Hey!” another boy, one you think was named Jaemin, appeared behind Jisung. Narrowing his eyes he said, “Watch it, Ren. It was just an accident.”

“He made my girlfriend bleed. You think I give a shit?”

“Oh, take a chill pill,” Your words came out cruel, but frankly Renjun was being more dramatic than Chae at this point. Renjun regarded you with disbelief, then barely concealed disgust before he noticed Jisung jogging away from them. “Hey! Hey where do you think you’re-”

Jaemin stepped in front of Renjun, his face stern. “I’m not going to tell you again to calm down.” As they began to argue, you pulled Chae’s hair from her face. “You okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine. It just won’t stop bleeding.”

White flashed beside your face, and the both of you looked up. Trailing up the thin arm, your eyes found a bent over Jisung holding a tissue out for her to take. His face, beyond embarrassed. Yet, he still bravely ignored the fuming boyfriend who was in the middle of being scolded.

“I really am sorry.”

“I know, Jisung. I am too. For, you know,” Chae laughed, taking the tissue and standing up, shaking her head at Renjun before walking away to take care of herself. Jisung lingered, long after Renjun cursed at him and stormed after her, even after Jaemin retrieved the basketball and told him the others were waiting.

Gathering you and Chae’s belongings, you practically bumped into him as you rose to your feet. “Oh, you’re still here,” his face falling made you backtrack quickly, “What I meant was, are you okay?”

A laugh broke from him, startling you. You had never heard him laugh. “I just hurt your sister and you’re asking if I’m okay?”

You shrugged one shoulder. “Well, I know how it feels to be singled out. Renjun had no right to treat you that way. Just between us, Chae should’ve dumped him a long time ago.” You started to walk away. Just as you took a few steps, you looked back at Jisung.

Sweat lining his hair, face flushed from shame or from basketball you didn’t know. For the first time, you found yourself really looking at him. Seeing not just a neighbor you hardly know, but a boy whose laugh you wouldn’t mind hearing again.

“Thanks again… Jisung.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Your fourth memory was when you were seventeen and Yuna fulfilled the prophecy of her and Chenle’s fated love.

With their love came a bond of association with none other than Jisung.

From one day to the next, Jisung became the young boy you caught glimpses of from your favorite window seat to sitting straight-backed on the sofa in your living room, just as silent as always.

Jisung didn’t suit your old-styled living room. He was bigger than this library haven. He was an entire book series, the longer you looked at him. A complete mystery except to those who opened him up.

When Yuna, Chenle, and Jisung casually chattered throughout the movie playing on the television, you found yourself re-reading the same paragraph of your current read over and over.

Giving up in frustration, you peeked out from the top of the book just as Jisung quietly laughed at the comedy playing in the background. He had a nice laugh, one that softened his features. Now, he wore these round glasses that made him look super cute.

Something funny happened in the movie again because Jisung smiled. You liked how he looked, like life was easy. He must’ve sensed your creepy staring because he looked over at you. Quickly, you retreated back behind your book- but not before shooting him what you hoped was a charming smile. You think it was, because he shifted in his seat and quickly looked away.

As you flipped through your book, you wondered if this was the first time someone made you feel like your favorite fictional characters did. Maybe you understood how a real-life Augustus Waters would be.

When you were eighteen, you and Jisung had become good friends, so much that you forgot about all those hidden moments. Looking back on it, you couldn’t figure out who was responsible for one of the greatest people to fall into your life. Was it Chenle, for being best friends with Jisung all these years? Was it Yuna for finally working up the courage to confess her love to Chenle? Or was it you, for not being afraid to get to know him?

Every morning your senior year, Chenle honked his obnoxious car horn and waited for you and Yuna to come out. Jisung was waiting outside the car, always holding open the backdoor for you like he was your driver or something.

Routinely, the two of you laughed over internet memes or showed each other a priceless YouTube video you watched the night before. When the two of you were too excited to wait, random midnight texts would spam each other’s phones, making the other smile too widely for a simple friendship.

He was a lot more eccentric than you thought he would be, and you loved that about him. Rambling about the anime he was watching, the latest song he learned how to play on his guitar made you smile whenever he spoke, or the endless thoughts in his mind that make him want to bust out his sketchbook and express “the wild concoctions of his mind”- his words, not yours. Anything he said, really, was like hearing your favorite song.

You remembered telling him an embarrassing secret, that you always wanted to re-enact the scene from You Belong With Me since you two were neighbors. In the moment he hadn’t said anything, but that night, he had texted you to go to your favorite window seat, and when you did he was holding up a paper to his window. In big block leaders, he had written HI Y/N. I MISS YOU. Next to it, was a pretty good drawing of a cartoon version of himself waving at you.

You didn’t know he could draw well.

It wasn’t long before you realized he wasn’t just a neighbor, or a friend. He wasn’t the love interest that you rolled your eyes at in your romance novels, or even Augustus Waters. He was the boy who was unafraid to be himself with you, and it made you feel like you could take on the world.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Here you were now, looking back on all those fond memories of him and smiling to yourself. The two of you had come a long way, and it never occurred to you that Jisung would become a significant part of your life. One you never want to depart from.

It was a couple of weeks before graduation. After many hours of working up the courage, you found yourself quietly knocking on Jisung’s front door. His mom answered, never failing at shooting you knowing looks and sneaky smiles.

Once Jisung appeared, he sat with you on his front porch. He never lost that quietness about him all these years, but what you gained is an attachment to it. You found yourself edging closer, constantly aching to be near. Your eyes trailed to your window, the one that lent your your first ever glimpses at the boy beside you. Oh, how far you’d come.

His face was more mature and slimmer now, hair shorter and styled more. His clothes were more intentional, preppy one day and street the next. That was the great thing about him- he wasn’t someone you could pinpoint. Maybe that’s why with one flicker of a gaze, he could knock the breath from your lungs.

You had come over to tell him how you feel.

Why were you choking instead?

He was fiddling with the bracelet Chenle had bought him for one of his childhood birthdays. Bright colors, worn around the edges. You’d never seen him without it, now that you look back on it. You focused on that as you tried to calm your nerves. Think of something, anything. Maybe how the bracelet is quite similar to its owner. Jisung, a mix of all these colors that somehow become beautiful together.

“Everything okay?” He asked casually, eyes trained ahead.

“Yup.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Because you usually don’t do this. The last time you came to my house, you were just dropping off the textbook I left over at yours. You never come to visit.” Ouch. You hadn’t realized. You were too worried about looking like a stalker. When had you become the one peeping from the window instead of him?

“I just, uh, I missed you.” You wanted to cringe, not missing the shock that ran through Jisung’s face. He coughed audibly before adjusting in his seat, using a random stick to pick the rocks out of the bottom of his shoes and tossing them one by one.

“That’s cool,” He said, and now he was hiding his face. Great. In that next moment, he turned your world onto its side. “I heard Jaemin asked you out today.”

Like a video buffering, every prepared sentence you had went out the window. Blinking, you shook your head before stuttering, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, he did.” Tell him you’re not interested in Jaemin. Tell him.

“You two make a lovely couple.” Was that bitterness? Sarcasm? Was that… sincere? What was that supposed to mean?

“I think you’re misunderstanding,” You laughed forcibly, and you realized quickly it was a mistake as he regarded you with zero amusement.

“He’s been wanting to date you since that day I made Chaeryeong’s nose bleed.”

Your face scrunched up, scoffing as you said, “I don’t even remember him being there.”

“That’s new. Most people don’t forget Jaemin’s presence.”

A moment, one breath of nerves, before you jumped. “I remember you that day.”

As you bravely looked him in the eye, you saw it in his face. You saw the understanding dawn on him, like a fishing line tugging. Jisung was never one for words. You read the message clear on his face, felt him comfortably relax as his body edged closer to you.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

On your eighteenth birthday, right in the middle of summer, Yuna was whispering your name in the darkness of your bedroom.

“Y/N! Wake up!”

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Then why did you ignore me?”

“You tell me.” You complained when she smacked your leg before silently following her out into the dark hallway. “What’s up?”

“I know we already sang you happy birthday an hour ago, but there’s one last surprise I forgot to tell you about.”

“You’re lucky I was awake.”

She led you into the living room, where the moon offered seldom light from the windows facing Jisung’s house. Except, your eyes found a piece of paper resting on the window seat.

Looking at your sister, you quietly walked over to the seat and picked it up. Flipping it over, your heart fooled you into thinking it was the middle of the day, the sun kissing your skin and your favorite book in your lap. It was a feeling of complete and utter bliss.

It was a sketch drawing split into four pictures. The first picture is of a younger you, face focused and legs crossed, sun bathing you in light. Your hair was messy, your face amused, and you were sporting your favorite orange spaghetti strap you used to wear way too much when you were little.

The second picture is you a little older now, face frustrated and fingers gripping your DS tightly. You didn’t remember ever playing the DS on the window seat.

The third photo was one that looked most like you, curled up uncomfortably in the window seat as you took a nap. The last time you did that was at the beginning of high school, and you vowed to never do it again after waking with your entire body stiff. You still wore that same green hoodie.

The last photo is of you sitting on the middle school bleachers, that very summer dress you loved for years drawn perfectly. There are other people, a crowd that’s parted with you in the center of the drawing. Everyone else is drawn as shaded shadows, a glow and beauty to you that you never even noticed. You were smiling directly ahead, and you wonder if he pictured himself as the object of your affections.

With a big smile, you perched yourself on the window seat, your hand spread on the window as you looked toward his bedroom window. You knew before you even saw him that Jisung would be waiting. His head in his hand, eyes hooded and drowsy. They widened as he spotted you.

Holding the gift to your heart, you blew him a kiss and hoped your expression conveyed how much you loved this present. His small smile was one of understanding.

His silence always told you everything you needed to know.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

About a month later, it was the night before Jisung’s flight- the night before he moved and left for university. You were in bed, long after saying your goodbyes and wallowing in sadness. Heart heavy, you couldn’t sleep, not now, not when Jisung was so close yet so far. You weren’t going to cry, not because you didn’t want to but because it was ridiculous to act like he was gone already.

All this time and you never told him how you felt.

Shutting your thoughts off, you threw your blanket aside and left your room, pulling on your shoes and quietly leaving out the front door, heading toward the outside of your favorite side of the house. Surprisingly, his window was completely open, so you tried to whisper-shout his name to get his attention. Nothing happened.

You huffed, looking around before spotting an old bouncy ball you and your sisters used to throw at each other when you were young. Taking a moment, you aimed the ball before chucking it at the window. It missed, bouncing off the windowsill and miraculously down on your side of the fence between your houses. Picking it up again, you aimed once more before chucking it as hard as you could.

At that same moment, Jisung popped out from his window with a confused look. You covered your mouth and cursed loudly as the ball smacked him right in the face, his glasses flying off as his body fell back out of view.

“Jisung! Oh my gosh, Jisung!” You hissed, worried out of your mind. After a few beats, a highly unamused Jisung peeked out of the window. “I’m so sorry!”

Jisung rubbed at his face before pushing his glasses up his nose and nodding. “I guess I deserved that. ‘Sall good. What’s up?”

“I want to talk to you!”

“I’m kinda panicking right now. Not even close to finished packing and my flight is in a couple hours.”

“I can help!” You called, looking around before saying, “Please! Before I get caught out here!”

He stared at you for a moment, face too serious for your taste, before he nodded and called quietly, “Back door.”

It was weird, sneaking through Jisung’s dark house. Even weirder, how aggressive your heart was beating in your chest as he clasped your hand tightly to lead you up the stairs. In the safety of his room, you felt vulnerable.

You had never been on the other side at night. This was the other perspective, the room he used to peek at you from, the one that housed the boy whose silence you’d grown to love. It was invasive.

“Yeah, uh, it’s a mess right now.” You turned to him quietly, sweat building at your lower back. All you could was nod as you tried to find the courage.

This boy had been this close to you since you were eight years old. Feet away. Even though you knew his silence, you were still trying to figure out how to break it. You got too comfortable and too attached to it. Too attached to him.

Seeing how bare his room looked filled you with an unbearable sadness. What was life going to be like without him living next door? Not to mention hundreds of miles were going to be between you. Luck was on your side that he was going to a university only three hours away. Three hours too many, it seemed, since Jisung was struggling to meet your eyes.

“Your room’s great.”

“Thanks.”

You sat in his desk chair as his bluetooth speaker played some band called MAD. Back when you had some classes together, he liked to make you laugh from across the room as he used to pretend to be the drummer of the band. You watched him as he quietly packed the large suitcase on the floor. His T-shirt sleeves were rolled up around his biceps, sporting his favorite sweats.

This was the Jisung she always knew and yet he wasn’t.

He had somehow taken up all the space in her heart.

The only time she had the heart to confess was the night before he moved away.

A moment. Feeling nauseated, you braced yourself with a deep breath and opened your mouth to speak. Just as the words flew from your lips like skydivers racing to the ground, Jisung spoke as well.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

“I can get you a drink if you’re thirsty.”

You both froze, his body twisting to look at you as you took up extra curiosity in the pencil box on his desk.

“You what?” He gasped.

“I’m good. I drank some water before bed.” Did you just answer him? Squinting at the pencil box, you pushed it back and forth across the wood.

“Y/N.” You couldn’t look at him, eyes swimming suddenly in a wave of emotions. You heard his feet approach you before he was crouching down and slowly spinning the chair to face him. Like a child, you squeezed your eyes shut.

Did he really ask you if you wanted something to drink? Just as you confessed your love for him?

“Y/N?” Your eyes were open but you couldn’t look at him. His head mimicked yours, tricking you into looking at him. You still couldn’t look him in the eye, opting for his chin. “Will you please look at me?”

Meeting his gaze, silence fell over you. One that you knew very well. The same silence that you originally thought separated you, but had brought you together over time. The silence he met you with when he first moved in, the silence behind two windows. It was in the silence that you realized just how important he was to you.

With the easiest smile that Jisung solely owned, he told you how he felt.

“I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you. Even before the times I watched you from the window like a creep. The day we moved in and your mom, your sisters and you came to welcome us, actually, was probably love. Even though I was eight, it was love for what I knew it to be. Yuna was little, she was shy and hiding behind your mom. Chaeryeong was giving me a no-nonsense look, as if she thought I was going to be trouble. But you…”

He swallowed, suddenly nervous. Your hand moved of its own accord, shyly resting on his shoulder. Taking a breath of bravery, he continued.

“You were my fairy,” He laughed to himself, “Back then, my mom used to read me a lot of fantasy books. All of my favorites had to do with fairies. Because they were both magical and beautiful, and that’s what I thought fantasy should be. And when I saw you? I thought fairies actually existed at that moment.”

“I would say you’re my Peter Pan, but him and Tinkerbell don’t end up together.”

He smiled, his hands taking yours in his own before he looked up into your eyes once more. “You’re better than Tinkerbell. Even better than Fawn.”

“You know the other fairy names?”

“What can I say? I loved Pixie Hollow.”

“I was more of a Club Penguin girl.”

“Who wasn’t?”

And because you couldn’t wait any longer, you pushed back the seat and crouched down in front of him as well, just so you were nearly eye level. He was quiet, his silence showing his understanding of what this all meant.

“Jisung?” You whispered, arms sliding around his neck.

“Mhm?”

“Is it alright if I kiss you?”

“You’re more than welcome.”

This time, when the silence fell around them, it was to declare your love. His lips were cold, soft, but shy. You took the lead and he followed, his hands unsure but gaining confidence as he hugged you to him.

When you pulled away, every single book you loved was reflected in his gaze.

That was the thing about guys like Jisung. They reminded you of the worlds you visited but wiped the slate clean at the same time, proving you had your own story to tell.

Was there ever going to be another novel that would make you feel like you did in this moment?

“I think I’ll have something to drink now.”

He stood, a smile pulling at his lips. As he approached the door, he looked back at you and mirrored you from moments before. “I’m in love with you too.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Jisung was fifteen when he realized how the circle of people you trust has to be few and far between. What was sad was he realized this because of his good friends.

“That wasn’t a foul, asshole, that was a clean steal,” Jeno stood with the basketball tucked under one arm, the other pointing accusingly as Chenle argued with him. Chenle, who was irritable from the sun and from relationship problems with Yuna, wasn’t backing down.

“It was dirty and you know it,” Jeno barked.

Jaemin clapped once and held out his hands to Jeno, exclaiming, “Okay guys, that’s enough. This is fun, remember? Shouldn’t be whining and complaining about one shot. He gets the point, Jeno, cool?”

Jeno rolled his eyes before checking the ball to Chenle, grumbling, “Whatever.”

As Jaemin went on defense for Jisung, he surprised everyone by his random questions to lighten the mood. Soon, they were back to joking and messing around with one another. Jeno even gave props for Chenle at one point when he stole the ball.

“Did you hear Jeno and Ryujin broke up? Again?” Jaemin snickered, watching Jisung closely as he waited for a chance to juke him. Bouncing the ball behind his back, then between his legs, Jisung watched him having played him plenty of times before. If anyone knew his tricks, it was Jisung.

“Sorry to hear that, man,” Chenle said.

Jeno waved his hand. “It’s whatever. Not surprised she’s done with my ass. I forgot it was her birthday. Again.”

Jisung shook his head, and Chenle said, “Dang, then it really is your fault.”

“Never said it wasn’t,” Jeno snapped, breaking out of Chenle’s defense and finding an opening for the pass. Jeno proceeded to pull off an effortless hook shot.

“Besides, he has his eyes set on someone new already,” Jaemin teased, always something dark hidden in the brightness of his irises.

Jeno glared at him. “Oh yeah? And you’re so innocent right? Why are you putting me on blast?”

“I know I’m not an angel. You just pretend you are and I think it’s hilarious” Jaemin grinned proudly, checking the ball with Jisung before quickly taking a three point shot, sinking it perfectly. “What about you, Jisung? Any apple of your eye?”

“Oh, he’s more sprung than I am with Yuna,” Chenle cackled, silenced by themurderous look from Jisung. Jisung was never one to be vocal about his personal feelings.

Why? Because he hated that look of curiosity forming on Jaemin’s face.

“Oh? And who has my little friend’s heart?”

“None of your business,” Jisung grumbled, causing Jaemin’s head to fall back as he laughed. Jisung took the opportunity to steal the ball, sprinting for his side of the court. Jeno was too fast, quick on defense.

“Come on, Ji. I promise I won’t judge,” Jaemin poked. He knew Jaemin all too well, his friend being well known for stealing his friends’ girls from right under their noses. It was all a game to him.

He refused to give in.

After five minutes of being murdered on the court, Jisung was hot and seething. His head wasn’t on straight, his thoughts unclear. It didn’t help that you were in clear view from this position, lounging beneath a tree and reading to your heart’s desire.

It was fate that the girl of his dreams was here the day he was pestered to let his friends know of your existence.

As he prepared for the three pointer, getting a look at Jaemin’s stupid smug face, he was struck with a moment of peace. Because if he didn't have a chance with you, Jaemin sure didn’t. And that right there filled him with a joy he couldn’t understand.

“You see Y/N over there?” He motioned with his head, all the boys glancing at you before finding him again. Jaemin narrowed his eyes at the boy.

Jisung dribbled the ball, his heart swelling with pride as he confessed, “That’s the girl I’m going to marry someday.” As he watched the ball soar, he realized that was the first time he had ever expressed just how deep his love for you goes. Maybe you didn’t see him, maybe you never would, but for him you were all that he needed.

His moment of sentiment ended as the ball smashed into the headboard, flying in the direction of the topic of conversation, his heart plummeting in fear.

His thoughts of marriage, of you, of his fears, they all faded as he ran toward you. Seeing the blood on your sister’s face, he realized you may never fall for him the way he had for you.

“What the f-”

“I-I’m so sorry. It banked off the headboard and went flying!”

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