#SHE'S GOT A PINK GLOW ABOUT HER SKIN FFS HOW COULD I NOT LOVE HER

[lastbluetardis]

Family of Six (1/14)

Summary: After James and Rose bring their newborn twins home, they work to find a balance between all four of their children, and each other.

Ten x Rose AU, soulmates AU --- this chapter: teen, 5000 words

Ages of the Tyler-McCrimmons at the start of the chapter: James: 39, Rose: 33, Ainsley: 9, Sianin: 5, Twins: 2 days

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Chapters will be posted every other week.

AO3 | TSP | FF | Perfectly Matched Series

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14

“Morning, handsome.”

James blinked through scratchy, crusty eyes and saw Rose on her side, facing him. Her elbow was propped on her pillow, her cheek resting in her palm.

“Hi,” he murmured, his voice gruff. He hummed when she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

“Great,” she said. “It barely feels like I squeezed two humans out of my vag two days ago.”

He snorted. His stomach clenched when he saw her wide, tongue-touched grin. Glancing over Rose’s shoulder, he saw their babies, Hannah and Madeline, sleeping contentedly in their bassinets.

“Wanna cuddle?” he asked. Rose nodded and wriggled into his waiting embrace. He sighed when her sleep-heated body pressed up to his; he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Rose tilted her head up and pressed a light kiss to his jaw, then to his chin, before she strained higher to catch his lips between hers.

James exhaled through his nose and shifted so he could kiss his wife more easily. Her lips were dry and warm and felt so good skating across his. His heart thudded against his ribs as he twined his fingers through her hair to hold her in place while his other hand went to the small of her back.

The hand she wasn’t lying on lazily migrated up his torso. Her fingers skimmed his ribs, ghosted up his chest, until her palm cradled his jaw.

They snogged lazily in bed as the rest of the world faded away. There was nothing but them and the pleasure brought about by the slow, languorous motions of their mouths and the gentle caresses of their hands.

“You know you need to put the brakes on those activities for at least six weeks.”

James squeaked in surprise as he was jarred back to reality. Elizabeth smirked at them from the doorway of their recovery suite.

“I know! I wasn’t… we weren’t… I wasn’t gonna…”

Rose laughed at him; the sound soothed a tiny fraction of his mortification. She pressed a parting kiss to his cheek and patted his chest reassuringly before she sat up in bed. James followed suit, his cheeks still burning. It wasn’t as though he’d intended for the kiss to go any further; frankly, he wasn’t even close to being in the mood to go further. Perhaps it was the lingering adrenaline and endorphins from the birth of his two newest daughters, but kissing Rose these last few minutes had felt better than usual.

“How are you feeling?” Elizabeth asked, stepping fully into the room. She walked up to the two cots and smiled down at the babies within them. She stroked her fingers across their fat little cheeks, then focused on Rose.

“I’m fantastic,” Rose said, beaming.

James’s heart stuttered through a few beats as he beheld her smile. She was truly radiant. He thought she’d been glowing whilst pregnant, but this… She was more than glowing—she was shining.

He slid his hand across the mattress until he could cover her fingers with his.

“I’ve sent their cheek swabs away for testing,” Elizabeth said. “The results will come back in a couple weeks. I’ll give you a call when they do. My guess is it’s going to confirm they’re identical twins, but who knows. All newborns tend to look similar in my years of experience. Especially newborn siblings.”

They chatted for a few minutes, mostly about generic newborn care information that they already knew but appreciated nevertheless. After that, they were left alone to get dressed as Elizabeth went to retrieve the release papers.

While the suite they’d stayed in for the birth and recovery was beautiful and luxurious, James and Rose were itching to get back to the familiarity of their own home. They yearned for their own bed and a kitchen where they could make whatever they wanted whenever they wanted it.

With clean bills of health for Rose, Hannah, and Maddie, as well as a follow-up appointment scheduled, James and Rose bundled their girls up for the trip home. It had been years since he’d had to dress a floppy, fragile baby, but his hands took over immediately, remembering exactly how to position and support his baby’s body to wrestle her into the thick, fuzzy coat he’d selected for her.

“And we’re gonna put a hat on that teeny little head,” James whispered, sliding on the pale pink cap. “And then you’re going to hang out with Mummy and Maddie while Daddy goes to get the car.”

Assisted by a pair of nurses, James and Rose carried their new babies and suitcase to the main lobby of the birth center. With a parting kiss to her brow, James handed Hannah to his wife, then took their bag and walked outside.

The morning was cold and wet, and James ran through the pelting rain to their car. Damp and shivering, he put the heat on full blast and waited until it was blowing warm air so that his new babies wouldn’t be placed into a chilly car. He pulled up to the front of the building, underneath the protection of the overhang roof, and idled the car as he got out to make one last check that the car seats were appropriately installed, then to help Rose.

“Ready?” he asked, stepping forward to take a baby from her.

He cradled Hannah close to his chest, then leaned down to nuzzle his nose to her soft, fresh skin. A nurse, meanwhile, helped Rose stand and escorted them outside to their car, where they buckled the babies into their seats. The girls were dwarfed by their car seats; it looked as though both babies could fit inside one of them.

“There we are,” James cooed as he made sure all of the buckles and straps were fastened properly around Hannah while Rose did the same for Maddie. “Snug as a bug in a rug! Keeping you nice and safe. Though Daddy prays these straps will never be needed to keep you safe in the event of a car crash.”

“Way to be a downer.”

James stuck his tongue out at his wife, then brushed a kiss overtop Hannah’s knit cap and closed the door as quietly as he could. He then moved to Rose’s side of the car as she slid into the passenger’s seat.

“You gonna strap me in too?” she asked dryly.

“Could do,” he mused. He made a show of buckling her seat belt and tugging at the strap to test the security of it. 

“You nutter,” she giggled.

“But your nutter! Forever.”

“I suppose you’ll do.”

James grinned and waggled his eyebrows at Rose before closing her door and moved to the driver’s seat.

He drove his family home, taking great care to not turn corners too quickly and avoiding potholes where he could. Twenty minutes later, they pulled into the driveway behind the multipurpose vehicle they’d purchased in anticipation of hauling their entire family of six at once. Their new vehicle seated eight people, providing them plenty of room for kids and kid-related supplies.

James had barely put the car in park before Robert and Jackie came out the front door, both of them holding umbrellas.

“Thank you,” he said as he slid out of the car and under the protection of the umbrella.

“We can’t have these precious sweethearts catching a cold already,” Jackie cooed, fussing over Hannah’s cap when she saw it was lopsided and half covering the baby’s eyes.

“You can’t get a cold from merely being cold,” James said, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, shut up and get my granddaughters inside.”

He shared an exasperated look with Rose across the car as she took Maddie from her seat.

“Shh, darling,” he murmured as Hannah woke up when he picked her up. “It’s just Daddy. I know it’s cold, but it’s only for a few seconds. I promise we’ll get you inside where it’s nice and warm.”

He cuddled her close, trying to give her as much warmth as he could. Jackie centered the umbrella over Hannah, leaving half of James’s body exposed to the icy rain.

“Oh, sure, you don’t worry about me catching a cold,” he grumbled, glancing over at Rose to make sure she was doing all right. His dad had her well taken care of.

“You can’t catch a cold from being cold,” Jackie parroted sweetly.

He heard Rose laughing at them, but he ignored her and instead walked to the ajar front door. The heat was a blessing as a chill rippled up James’s spine.

“See, I told you, Han,” he said to the child in his arms. “Nice and toasty in here.”

He turned as Rose and his father stepped through the front door, kicking off their wet shoes. Rose glanced at him and frowned.

“Mum, you really couldn’t keep him any drier than that?”

“I told you your mum still has it out for me,” he said gravely.

Jackie swatted at his soaked shoulder, but looked slightly apologetic.

“Here, I’ll take her. You get changed,” she said, holding out her arms.

“Aha! This was all a ploy so you could hold my darling daughter. Next time, just ask.”

But he gave Hannah to her grandmother and departed down the hall to get into dry clothes.

The afternoon passed by quickly and easily, with both babies napping contentedly in their cots or somebody’s arms when they weren't being fed.

When it came time to collect Ainsley and Sianin from school, Robert and Jackie volunteered.

Forty-five minutes later, the front door burst open and two sets of pattering feet raced towards them.

“Mummy! Daddy!”

Sianin launched herself onto the couch and into James’s lap while Ainsley rushed to Rose’s side.

James gathered Sianin close to his chest and held her tight, breathing her in. Though he’d seen his daughters only two afternoons ago, he’d missed them dearly. As he kissed the side of her head and kept her in his lap, he had a jarring moment of realization that Sianin wasn’t his baby anymore. She was his middle child, his second-eldest.

He looked over and saw Ainsley standing between Rose’s legs, peering down into Hannah’s face. The baby was awake and staring up with dark blue eyes, trying to focus on Ainsley. His heart throbbed to see his eldest cooing down at her baby sister and being so gentle as she pressed a feather-light kiss to Hannah’s forehead before she traced her fingertips across Hannah’s face.

“Gran said there was a surprise,” Sianin prompted, drawing him back to the child in his lap.

James furrowed his brow at Jackie as she shed her coat.

“Your mummy, daddy, and sisters being home is the surprise, sweetheart,” Jackie said. “Isn’t it so nice to have them home?”

Ainsley nodded vigorously, but Sianin looked a little put-out, though she snuggled deeper into James’s arms.

Jackie and Robert made a large dinner for the family, which they’d apparently been doing for the past few days, resulting in a fridge and freezer full of meals for James and Rose so they didn’t need to worry about cooking for a while.

While Robert departed back to his own home after dinner, Jackie stayed one more night. She would catch a train to London the following morning.

The first night with the twins went better than James and Rose expected. They’d worried that each twin would wake up at different times, essentially keeping them up every hour, too. And though the babies were in James and Rose’s bedroom—where they would remain until they were sleeping through the night and didn’t need to nurse every other hour—they worried the sound of crying would bother Ainsley and Sianin. 

But the twins woke up together. Or, rather, Hannah woke them up every few hours, and they fed and changed Maddie during those times, too. Because she was still unaccustomed to nursing two newborns at once, James often aided Rose with the feedings, arranging pillows around her body so she was as comfortable and confident as possible.

“I really appreciate your help,” Rose murmured as she sat back against their headboard for the third feeding of the night. “I promise I’ll get better at juggling two of them.”

“I have no doubt,” he answered.

“I’m just nervous about dropping them right now,” Rose continued. “I’m used to having a spare hand and arm. And they’re so bloody fragile.”

“Rose, you don’t need to apologize or explain,” he said. “Since you’re the milk maid—” Rose snorted and rolled her eyes. James knew that if she’d had a free hand, she would’ve smacked him. “—it’s the least I can do to help finagle the kids around. I’m quite smitten with these two already; it’d be a shame for you to drop one.”

Rose cackled and fondly told him to shut up.

When morning came, with no dropped newborns and two slightly sleep-deprived parents, James and Rose pulled themselves out of bed to get their other two kids ready for the day.

Ainsley was in the living room, sitting on a nest of blankets and watching cartoons with Jackie as she cradled a bowl of half-eaten cereal. Sianin, on the other hand, was still dead asleep when James crept into her room.

“Sianin,” he softly crooned to the blanketed lump of his daughter.

She didn’t even stir. He crouched beside her bed and took a moment to look at this perfect little human he’d helped make. Even though her hair was a tangled mess, dried drool crusted around her mouth and chin, and pillow lines creased her cheeks, she was beautiful.

The peacefulness of the moment disappeared as he began trying to rouse her. He stroked her hair away from her face, taking care not to get his fingers caught in any of the numerous knots. Sianin let out a whining moan, tucking her face into her pillow and pulling her blankets over her head for good measure.

“Time to wake up,” he said, rubbing her back and simultaneously tugging her blankets off her head.

“Hmph,” she grumbled, cracking open one bleary eye.

He spent the next few minutes gradually waking her up, not leaving the room until she was physically out of bed and moving to the loo lest she fall back to sleep. 

They got through the morning routine quickly, glad that the presence of the twins hadn’t caused any unexpected delays. Ainsley was already dressed for school and sitting at the kitchen table, chatting with Rose and Jackie while the twins slept in the portable bassinets Rose must have moved into the kitchen.

Sianin joined them a few minutes later, drowsy and still in her pajamas. Her hair was a matted nest, but she didn’t seem to care as she clambered onto a kitchen chair, awaiting her breakfast.

“Oatmeal okay, Sian?” Rose asked, standing from the table.

“Mhm,” she said through a yawn.

“How did you two sleep?” James asked, working around Rose to put the coffee on. “Did you hear your sisters last night? Did their crying wake you?”

Ainsley and Sianin shook their heads.

The family finished up their breakfast, then Sianin and James got dressed for the day. James threw on a comfy pair of jeans and a hoodie, then knocked on Sianin’s open bedroom door. She was pulling on her jumper and hadn’t even begun to tackle her hair.

“Want me to fix your hair?” he asked as she rooted around her room for her shoes.

“Sure,” she said.

“In the mood for anything special?” he asked, finding a brush.

“Hmm… Piggy-tails?”

James smiled and sat on the floor behind his daughter to work on taming her silken locks. She sat still for him as he unknotted her hair as gently as he could; he murmured apologies when the brush caught in a snarl.

Moments like this, where it was just him and his daughter doing the most mundane of tasks, were one of James’s favorite parts of fatherhood. He knew men who would never trouble themselves with doing their daughters’ hair, and he felt sorry for them; it was such a simple, easy bonding moment between him and his child.

“How are Elena and Juliette?” James asked when he saw Sianin was clumsily writing on her forearm. 

“They’re good. They wanna know the babies’ names. How do I spell ‘Hannah’ and ‘Maddie’?”

“How would you spell them?” James prompted.

Sianin was silent for a few seconds, then said, “H-A-N-A and… er… M-A-D-E?”

“Close,” he said. “Those were good tries, though.”

He then spelled her sisters’ names for her—including the full spelling for Madeline—and watched her copy them onto her arm.

“Your handwriting is getting much better,” James said. 

He caught Sianin’s reflection in the floor-length mirror on her closed closet door; her face had lit up in a toothy grin.

“Thanks, Daddy!”

“I’m just about done,” he said, parting her hair down the middle and gathering one half into his fist. “High piggy-tails or low ones?”

“Hmm… high. Please,” she tacked on. “Ooh, and can you put a bow on them?”

“Anything for you, my darling.”

He made quick work of smoothing out her hair and fastening each side with a hairband. Now that it wasn’t one giant, frizzy knot, her hair was curling in soft ringlets.

“Pick which bows you want,” he said, pushing himself to his feet with a grunt.

She hopped up and went to the basket on her dresser. She returned a minute later with two mismatched bows. James shrugged and dutifully clipped them into her hair.

“Grab your shoes,” James said.

When they joined the rest of their family, Ainsley was ready to go. She’d finished zipping up her coat and grabbed her bag from where it was hanging on the coat rack.

Jackie’s suitcase was sitting by the front door and James heard her and Rose talking in the kitchen. She was fussing over Rose and the twins.

“I’m fine, Mum,” Rose said, an exasperated edge to her voice. “I’ve been through this more times than you have.”

“Oh, so that means you’re above needin’ a bit of help or advice?” Jackie snipped.

James winced at the sharp tone, and when he heard Rose’s groan of frustration, he stepped into the kitchen to intervene. Cheerfully, he said, “All right, time to go.”

Jackie shoulders hunched as she strode past him. He watched her exit, then turned to his wife.

“You gonna be all right while I’m out?” he asked quietly.

“Not you too. I’m fine. I know how to take care of my own children.”

James raised his hands defensively. “I wasn’t trying to imply you couldn’t. But you’re still only three days post-birth. Your body needs loads of rest. One baby is exhausting to care for, but we’ve got two.”

Rose sighed. “I know. Sorry. It’s just… Mum always makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong, y’know?”

He frowned. “What did she say?”

“Nothing. It’s… I must’ve missed a button on Maddie’s onesie, ‘cos it was all askew and twisted in the front. Mum noticed a second before I did and went right up to Maddie and started talking to her about how that must’ve been so uncomfortable but Gran’s got her and will make it all better. It’s not like I bloody well tried to button it up wrong.” Rose rubbed the heel of her hand into her forehead. “Am I overreacting?”

“I think Jackie could’ve said something different,” James replied. Then he stepped up to his wife and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

Rose caught him in a hug, and when her face was tucked into his neck, she whispered, “Why did we have to get into it right when she’s leaving?”

“I’m sorry, love,” he said, holding her tight. “Give yourself the day to cool down, then talk to your mum. Maybe tell her that you didn’t appreciate what she said. Or how she said it, if that was more the issue.”

“That’ll go over well,” Rose muttered. “She’ll just get offended again.”

James didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing and instead swayed with Rose for another minute.

“I’ve gotta go,” he said, kissing her forehead. “Need anything while I’m out?”

“Don’t think so,” she said. “I’ll let you know if I do. Thanks for taking Mum to the train station.”

“Anything for you,” he replied.

Jackie was helping Sianin fasten the buttons of her coat when he went to the front door.

“I can do it myself, Gran,” Sianin whined.

“I just figured I’d help speed up the process is all,” Jackie said, continuing to do up the buttons for Sianin.

James peeked over at Rose and saw her roll her eyes. He, too, wanted to tell Jackie that Sianin would only get better at fastening buttons if she was allowed to do it herself. But James knew that Jackie was fussing because she cared; it couldn’t be easy for her to leave behind her child and grandchildren after having spent nearly a full week with them. So he held his tongue and ushered everyone out the door.

After James dropped the girls off at school, he drove across town to the train station. Like the good son-in-law he was, he carried her suitcase for her and walked her into the station.

“Right, so we’ll see you for Sianin’s birthday in a few weeks?” James confirmed, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“If Rose still wants me to come,” Jackie grumbled.

“Of course she does,” James answered. Jackie cocked an eyebrow, so he tacked on, “And more importantly, Sianin wants you there.”

Jackie deflated a little. “It’s hard being away from you lot all the time.”

“I know,” James said softly. “But that makes the time with you even more special.”

Jackie sighed. “It’s been so nice staying with Ainsley and Sianin for these last several days. And spending time with the babies yesterday. But the next I’ll see them, they’ll be nearly a month old.”

Jackie sighed again, and for the second time that morning, James didn’t know what to say. Instead, he stepped up to her to give her a brief hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Safe travels, Jackie. Let us know when you get home.”

He handed her bags to her and watched his mother-in-law disappear into the throng of people milling about the station.

When he got home, the house was blissfully silent. The twins were asleep in their bassinets, which had been set up in the living room, and Rose was nowhere to be seen.

He poked his head into the kitchen and took note that all of the dishes had been done and the table and countertops wiped clean.

“Rose?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

“In here.”

“Where’s ‘here’?” he muttered, heading down the hall towards her voice.

He found her in the laundry room, bending over the dryer to put the clean clothes in the basket.

“Everything go all right with Mum and the kids?” Rose asked, continuing to reach into the dryer.

“Yep. Your mum was a bit sad to go, but we already knew that. What are you doing?”

Rose straightened, resting a hand on her lower back as she did so. “Laundry.”

“Yes, yes, I see that. Why? You should be resting.”

She rolled her eyes, shut the door to the dryer, then hefted the laundry basket onto her hip. “I’m not an invalid, James.”

“I know, but you literally pushed two human beings out of your body three days ago,” he said.

“I know. I was there,” she teased, grinning.

“Bloody hell,” he mumbled to himself. He stepped up to her and brushed a strand of hair away from her face before trailing tiny kisses across her cheek and temple. He used the closeness to pry the laundry basket away from her. “You’re amazing, you know that? Absolutely amazing. But just… try to rest? Please? It would make me feel better.”

“You worry too much,” she said gently. “I’m fine.”

“It’s my job to worry,” he said. “You can help sort the socks as long as you sit on the bed to do it.”

Rose shook her head in mock exasperation, but followed him into their bedroom where they worked together to fold the laundry.

They spent the rest of the day relaxing with their new babies and each other. All four of them cuddled on the couch with a romcom playing in the background. James barely paid attention to the film; he was too distracted with his babies and his wife, who he spent most of the day simply talking to.

“I’m really happy to see you doing so well,” James said when Rose decided she absolutely had to do an impromptu photoshoot of the twins and James.

She beamed behind her camera, then instructed him to adjust his grip slightly to get a better view of the twins’ faces. She took at least a hundred photographs in every pose known to man. Sitting, standing, reclining, laying down, with his shirt on and off. James assumed the latter was more for Rose than anything—still, he puffed up at the knowledge his wife thought he was sexy even after all the years they’d been together.

“All right, enough of me,” James said. “Your turn.” When Rose tried to protest, he said, “Nope, come on. Turnabout’s fair play.”

Rose grudgingly handed over her camera, and James spent the next twenty minutes giving her a photoshoot. The photos weren’t as nice as they would’ve been if a real photographer had taken them, but he tried his best, and knew Rose could touch them up and crop them to make them look much better than his amateur attempts.

They resumed the photoshoot when Ainsley and Sianin got home from school. James and Rose took turns behind the camera to document each other with their children.

“Can I take some of you and Dad?” Ainsley asked after a while.

“That’d be great,” Rose said, her face soft. “Be very careful with the camera. It’s delicate.”

Rose spent the next minute showing Ainsley how to use it, practicing on Sianin, who was making silly faces.

When Rose was certain Ainsley had the hang of it, she joined James on the couch and took one of the twins from him. James wrapped his arm around her, anchoring her to his side. Once the traditional ‘smile for the camera’ photos were done, they began making silly faces too. James had even pulled her in for a long snog, to the exaggerated disgust of their kids. Ainsley snapped the photo though, and it ended up being one of the best ones she’d taken.

“Hopefully that’s not a sign she’s going to try her hand at erotic photography when she’s older,” James murmured into Rose’s ear when they saw the series of photos of them kissing.

Rose smacked his chest but laughed loudly.

“What’s so funny?” Ainsley asked, frowning. She stepped up behind them to look at the photos. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, love,” Rose assured. “These are absolutely beautiful. Your dad was just being his usual ridiculous self.”

“You did a really great job, Ainsley,” James praised, which made Ainsley flush with pride.

“I wanna try!” Sianin said, clambering onto the couch.

While Rose showed their five-year-old how to use the camera, James wrapped his arms around Ainsley and tucked her into his lap. She still fit comfortably, small as she was, despite being nine years old.

“Are you excited about being a big sister again?” he asked, absently rocking them from side to side. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” she said, beaming. “Do you like being a dad?”

“It’s all right, I suppose,” he said nonchalantly. He nuzzled his cheek against hers, scraping his day-old stubble across her soft, smooth skin. She squirmed in his lap, pushing his face away. He relented with a kiss to her cheek. “Being a dad is the best part of my life.”

Ainsley relaxed back into his arms, content to sit in his lap while Rose continued talking Sianin through basic functions on the camera.

“Let’s get one of Daddy and Ainsley,” Rose whispered.

“Why do you like taking pictures?” Sianin asked.

“It’s fun,” Rose answered, shrugging. “Like how you enjoy playing with your cars, I enjoy taking photos. This camera is basically an adult toy.”

James choked down a laugh, earning him a stern look from his wife, but he saw the mirth dancing in her eyes.

After first smiling at the camera, he and Ainsley turned their attention to the television; James knew Rose adored getting profile and candid shots.

Sianin spent a few more minutes taking photos before she got bored and handed the camera back to Rose. She then slid to the floor and asked Ainsley to play with her.

With their two eldest children occupied and their two youngest children asleep, James and Rose went off to sift through the photos they’d taken that day. Together, they compiled their absolute favorites, and after some minor touch-ups from Rose, she printed them out on her specialized photograph printer.

After everything was printed and dinner was in the oven, James and Rose settled at their kitchen table to update everyone’s photo albums. Barring several ultrasound photos and the hospital-issued birth photo, these were the first pictures to go in the twins’ albums.

James and Rose updated Ainsley’s and Sianin’s latest albums, as well as the family album.

“A bit saucy for a family album, innit?” James teased when she pasted in the photo Ainsley had taken of them kissing.

“Oh shut it. It’s not like we put screenshots from a sex video in here,” Rose said, flicking his arm.

“Well, now you mention it…”

Rose smacked him this time, and James giggled before he dutifully continued taping photographs of his beautiful family into the book.

If you’ve made it to the end, consider leaving a comment or reblogging? I’d love to know what you thought of this.

#ficandchips #doctorroseprompts #dwfic #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #james x rose #soulmates #soulmates au #soulmates verse #perfectly matched series #family of six #baby fic #kid fic #family #my fic

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

with you [4/6]

Summary: Clementine pops the question.

Preview:

Louis chuckles to himself, causing her to quirk a curious brow.

“What?”

“We’re engaged.”

Clementine laughs with him now. “We are.”

“That’s crazy!”

“Is it?”

“Uhm, yeah. You’re my fiancée.”

“Soon to be your wife.”

“Holy shit.”

His smile is so wide it’s almost painful.

All night, the evening replayed in his head. Her fingers gliding along the piano keys, the golden glow reflected in her gaze, the heaviness of her voice when she admitted to wanting him- really wanting him - and shock of metal pressing into his skin as she slid the ring on.

His mind mulled about the fact that almost everyone seemed to know about it. Except him, of course. How little things started to make sense; Aasim’s weird behavior and the whole deer plot in general, Mitch throwing his shoe to keep him out of the basement, Willy bursting into their bedroom looking for Clementine, Ruby’s over-friendliness towards him, AJ’s eagerness to occupy most of his time…

His smile falters, just a bit.

His mind wanders to Violet.

Warnings: Ruby says “hootenanny.” Aasim hits his head. Mitch doesn’t know how to deal with gross feelings. Violet’s angsty again. Clementine and Louis each have some worries of their own. This is anything but short and sweet jfc

Author’s Note: [insert “it’s too long had to split it again” speech here] Yeah I’m not even gonna bother at this point just know that it’s five parts now [maybe] and I’m still a big liar. I’ve just got too much to say about these kids so... yeah. Anyway, on a lighter note, THANK YOU to everyone who’s read and left comments/likes! I’m sorry that it took so long! It seriously means so much to me and I hope you enjoy this part. 

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI |  Read on AO3 | Read on Wattpad | Read on FF.net

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The early morning isn't gray, but a soothing lavender and brilliant amber. The colors merge into neon pink and peach, a hue that would be blinding if not for the pulled curtains. The sweetness of dew ridden grass wafts in through the cracked window, cooling the room's temperature.

Louis inhales deeply. Though he's one to usually sleep in, he does have a fancy for the smell of mornings during the spring's transition to summer. It's a floral freshness you can't find any other time of year.

He watches Clementine slip her jacket on with such a fondness he can't begin to describe. He twists the ring around his finger over and over again as a reminder that last night really happened. All of it. From the silly and exasperating deer hunt to seeing the music room engulfed in a golden glow to the feeling of Clementine's finger tracing his palm.

"Louis, will you marry me?"

She sits with him now, scooting close enough for their legs to press and tangle together. Her eyes flutter shut as she relaxes against him, face buried in the crook of his neck and arms wrapped around his waist.

They barely slept last night.

They both could hear AJ tossing and turning over in his bed, sighing heavily several times during the night.

Clementine wasn't any better. With her body curled up against his back, she found that no matter how long she kept her eyes shut, sleep wouldn't take her.

It didn't help that every once in a while, a quiet, involuntary giggle would escape Louis. He tried to play it off like he was coughing, but she knew better.

Eventually, frustrated with his own restlessness, AJ hopped out of bed. Fully aware that he wasn't the only one awake, he claimed he would go on patrol and check on watch. Neither of them argued because, with the young boy gone, Louis could roll over and press a kiss to Clementine's lips without any judgment or awkwardness.

"We should get up," she sighs uncommittedly and without any movement.

"Should."

"Lots to do today."

"Lots."

"Ruby's probably waiting for us, too."

"Probably."

Neither of them attempts to get out of bed.

A particularly harsh gust of wind hits the window just right, blowing the curtains up and letting that morning luminosity seep in over the floor.

The cool air tingles his skin, so he pulls her closer. They would consider closing the window, but it's a pain in the ass to get open again due to the boards nailed over half of it. Besides, most days it's way too warm to keep fresh air out. They'll secure it when winter rears its ugly head again.

Louis lifts his hand up before him, admiring the ring adorning it. He uses his thumb to twist it until the carved initials appear.

So, he didn't just imagine that, either.

"This doesn't feel real," Louis mumbles.

"It is."

Clementine holds up her hand, too. Together, their rings are a perfect match. She places her fingers over his, bringing their hands down to intertwine over his chest as she rests her chin on his shoulder, peering up at him.

"You slept okay, right?"

"You assume I could sleep?"

"I mean, no bad dreams?"

"No," he answers lightly, relieved. "Course, you have to sleep long enough to actually dream. I just couldn't turn my brain off, I guess."

He tilts his head back, expression soft and thoughtful, but with a hint of something else. Like he's bothered.

Quietly, almost apprehensive, she brings herself to ask, "Are you having second thoughts?"

"No." He shakes his head, tightening his grip on her. "Of course not, Clem. I just can't believe this is happening. What brought this on? Like I said, I didn't think this was something you would've wanted."

Clementine pulls back from him to meet his gaze, saying, "Back at the train station, seeing you try and explain marriage to AJ and the way you looked," she grins, soft and pretty, "I couldn't get it out of my head and I just... knew that I wanted to marry you, end of the world or not."

"Wow," he breathes out. "Are you sure?"

She playfully pinches his nose. "Thought we talked about this."

"Yeah, but I want to one-hundred percent sure!"

"Then, yes, Louis. I am one-hundred percent certain that I want to marry you."

"Even though my nose is big and I have funny-looking ears?"

"All ears are funny-looking."

"Maybe so," Louis laughs. "But, still."

Clementine presses a light kiss to his cheek, resting her forehead against his. "What do I need to tell you to get you to believe me? Since my romantic proposal wasn't enough."

"Oh, it was plenty," he tells her with a beaming grin. "Never thought I'd ever get married, much less proposed to. Especially like that. I mean," he shrugs a little, "didn't think I'd make it this far in general, to be honest."

Her smile fades.

"I know," he says before she can speak. "I know. On a happier note, my bride-to-be, you're right. We have lots to do today."

He gives her cheek a quick peck and slides out of bed. He nearly blinds himself when drawing the curtains open, but boy does it snap any drowsiness out of him. He rubs his eyes, blobs of colors staining his vision as he moves around the room to gather up his things. Clementine remains on the bed, watching him with a reflective look.

She can see his mood is light now, still full of elation as evident by the grin stuck pulling at his lips.

Of course he could hardly sleep last night, he thinks.

How do you sleep when the girl of your dreams proposes to you?

Hell, not only proposes but plans an entire evening consisting of a well thought out candlelit dinner and sweet, classical music. And, on top of that, manages to acquire a set of matching bands to propose with?

Clementine did that for him.

Him.

Even now, he's not entirely sure this isn't just some intense hallucination, but god, he hopes it's not.

Louis chuckles to himself, causing her to quirk a curious brow.

"What?"

"We're engaged."

Clementine laughs with him now. "We are."

"That's crazy!"

"Is it?"

"Uhm, yeah. You're my fiancée."

"Soon to be your wife."

"Holy shit."

His smile is so wide it's almost painful.

All night, the evening replayed in his head. Her fingers gliding along the piano keys, the golden glow reflected in her gaze, the heaviness of her voice when she admitted to wanting him- really wanting him - and shock of metal pressing into his skin as she slid the ring on.

His mind mulled about the fact that almost everyone seemed to know about it. Except him, of course. How little things started to make sense; Aasim's weird behavior and the whole deer plot in general, Mitch throwing his shoe to keep him out of the basement, Willy bursting into their bedroom looking for Clementine, Ruby's over-friendliness towards him, AJ's eagerness to occupy most of his time...

His smile falters, just a bit.

His mind wanders to Violet.

Clementine's talk with her made sense now.

He'd tried to push aside those less enjoyable thoughts over the night, the ones of Violet, the overly dark ones lurking in the back of his mind. Those ones, in particular, he forced away into the deepest parts of his mind. Those thoughts were ones that could break him, so he did his best to focus on the rush of love he felt for the woman pressed against him.

Now morning is here and it's time to face the reality that came with it. While he isn't ready to face his biggest fears just yet, he does let those thoughts of Violet race through his mind, which caused his small grin to quickly pull into a frown.

As he watches Clementine place her worn out hat upon her head, he knows that it's time to get serious.

"Clem?"

She turns to him, brow raised.

"Does Violet know?" he asks.

She glances away. "No, she doesn't."

"You didn't tell her? During your talk, I mean."

"I was going to," Clementine says slowly. "While we were still planning things, we weren't sure if we should or how we should tell her. I thought maybe if I told her it'd be the best chance I had at fixing things."

She steps closer now, arms still folded over her chest and expression pained.

"After we argued and she told me how she really felt," she shakes her head, "I just couldn't. I knew I had upset her enough and I don't know how she would've taken it."

Louis nods, understanding. "And, you're sure Tenn hasn't told her?"

"No, he promised he'd keep it to himself for now."

He pulls her close, holding her comfortably against him. "Well, don't worry. I'll talk to her today."

"Are you sure?"

"She has to know, Clem. She can't not be a part of this. Maybe she'll take it better if it's coming from me."

Clementine hesitates before mumbling, "What if she doesn't want to be a part of it at all?"

That's not something he wants to think about. It's that thought that he's tried avoiding all night.

If he's going to get married, end of the world or not, he wants Violet there.

Ideally, and totally unrealistically, Louis imagined her singing at their wedding.

He imagined him and Clementine dancing together, close and intimate, with him holding her hand to his chest and gripping her waist firmly. He imagined Violet's lovely voice filling the music room with whatever sappy love song he'd picked out for her. And when she finished, she'd smile at both of them and sing again.

That's where those thoughts ended because there's no point in making himself feel so sad over something he knows would never happen in the first place. While optimistic, Louis can see things through a realist sight. Daydreams and fantasies have their place, and right now isn't the time for it.

Right now, he needs to focus on talking with Violet. Clementine wasn't able to tell her, and that's okay, but she needs to know. He needs her to know that he wants her there. Even if she only popped in to grab a drink and wave at him, that would be enough.

Whether or not she'd listen is another story. Louis knows he can't force her to come. Hell, he doesn't want to force her to do anything. In the end, it's Violet's choice. All he can do is be as open with her as possible and tell her how he feels.

"In the very least, she deserves to know," he says. "And, maybe it's time me and her sort out some things of our own. There's..." he sighs, "there's some stuff that needs to be said, I think. Things we've been ignoring." He smiles at her, warm and comforting. "Leave it to me, Clem."

Clementine studies his face for a moment, worry furrowing her brow. "Just... be careful, okay? I don't want this to be like the last time you guys talked about something involving me."

"It won't be, I promise. I'll take care of everything. Besides, you've got other things to worry about."

"Do I?"

"You've got a wedding to plan, right?"

She smirks. "I guess I do. Although, I think Ruby's already planned most of it."

He chuckles. "Well, in that case, we shouldn't keep her waiting."

---

The full brightness of the day has taken over now, even if most of the sunlight is buried beneath the fluffy white clouds. It's much warmer than the past few days, too, giving the full effect of spring.

The first one they see is Willy.

Outside the open basement doors, he's down on his knees digging through a plastic tub and pulling what looks like Halloween decorations out. Rosie's beside him, curiously poking her nose around a long orange and black streamer.

Mitch's voice echoes from down the basement steps, but neither of them can make out the words.

"What!?" Willy calls out, tossing aside a smashed up paper pumpkin.

More undistinguishable yelling is followed by a loud thump.

"I don't know! Maybe in the back!"

Omar's gathering and sorting through wood, prepping it for a fire. Clementine can see his cooking equipment is stacked neatly on his table, freshly cleaned. He waves at them, whistling Rosie over to keep him company.

James' up on watch with AJ, from what Clementine can see. The young boy has his binoculars up to his face, searching outside the walls for any danger while James peers off in the opposite direction.

Ruby's nowhere in sight.

"She's probably already tearing apart the music room," says Louis with concern. "Don't see Tenn or Aasim, either."

"Clem! Louis!" Willy calls out to them, waving them over using a plastic skeleton arm. "Come look!"

Louis chuckles as they approach the boy, saying, "Didn't think our theme would be jack-o-lanterns, but I must admit, the approach is charming." He grabs a broken plastic pumpkin basket, one that would've been used for trick-or-treating.

Clementine bends down to admire the various decorations. "Wow," she says, "can't believe you guys kept all this stuff."

"The school used to go all out on holidays," Louis explains. "I mean, all out. Not a single corner wasn't covered for Halloween or Christmas or whatever. Even the dumb ones got decorated for. Said it'd make us cheerier if we were surrounded by it."

"Makes sense, I guess," Clementine nods.

Ericson's a pretty big school, and if they really did deck out the entire place, then that required a lot of decorations. It opens up a lot of potential for the decor of the wedding, she thinks.

Picking up a torn cardboard cutout of a glittery pumpkin, she finds her heart swelling fondly.

It reminds her of when she was little, before the outbreak. Her mom had bought her the most beautiful fairy costume to wear trick-or-treating. The skirt and wings had so much glitter on them that whenever she moved a puff of sparkles seemed to flow around her. It took her weeks to get all that glitter out of her hair, and even longer for her mom to get it out of the carpet.

While it does bring happier memories to mind, she's not sure how she feels about a Halloween themed wedding. Especially in the spring.

Willy pulls out a terrifyingly cheerful vampire mask and slips it on, cackling and wiggling his fingers at her. "Blood! Blood!"

She waves him away, laughing. "Okay, okay, please tell me you aren't using this stuff for the music room."

"Nah," Willy shakes his head, yanking the mask off. His messy hair sticks up in all directions, static from the plastic mask. "Just thought it was cool. Haven't touched this shit in years." The young boy's face lights up when he finds a crusty tube of fake blood. "Mitch's still looking for the real decorations. He's got this really cool idea! I dunno how it's gonna work, but if it does, it's gonna be awesome."

"Nothing explosive, right?" Clementine asks.

"No," Willy frowns, "Ruby already told us we couldn't make you guys fireworks."

"That's probably for the best."

"No fireworks, huh? But think of the crowd they could attract," Louis jokes.

"Yeah, a crowd of walkers."

"Hey, if James' friends want to come, I'm not opposed. Add 'em to the guest list, I say."

Clementine lightly smacks Louis' leg with the cardboard pumpkin, sticking glitter to his jeans and making him chuckle with amusement.

"Shit!" A sharp hiss comes from down the stairs of the basement, catching their attention. Two large plastic totes with a cardboard box stacked on top come into view carried by a struggling, panting Mitch. Louis is there quick, pulling off the box and handing it to Willy before taking the top tote.

"Dude, careful!" Louis says, grunting at the unexpected weight of the tote. "You'll fall and break your neck."

Mitch, his flushed face now in sight, huffs out, "Thanks."

They drop the totes and box to the ground with hard thuds. Mitch wipes his sweaty palms against his jeans and takes a breather, plopping down on the ground.

"They were buried in the back," he says. "Shit's a mess down there now, but I found 'em."

Willy pulls out what looks like thick batteries and small solar panels, as well as some black tape and a bundle of wires. "Think these'll work?" he asks. "We've never tried using them for something like this."

"We'll hafta try out a few different ways of hookin' them up." Mitch catches his breath, saying, "If they don't do the trick then we'll have to go to plan B."

Louis kneels down to examine the equipment for himself.

"And, what exactly is plan A?" he asks.

A wide grin spreads across Mitch's face. He tears off the plastic lid to one of the totes and pulls out an armful of tangled string lights. He shows them off with such a proud confidence that you'd think he'd struck gold.

"Ruby's not budging on having your wedding in the evening and wants to use all those candles again, but I got an idea. Get enough of these and they'll light up the place just as good. They'll also look better and we won't have to deal with that nasty ass smell those candles give off when you burn 'em too long. Just need you to pick out which ones you want."

Clementine eyes the string lights, dumbfounded. She and Louis share a look and she finds him just as perplexed.

"Pick out...?"

He begins to carefully pull apart and separate the lights. "We've got red ones and green ones and multi-colored ones, or there are some white ones, a few orange, but I think those ones are broken. These ones flash, I think. Found some with hearts, but it's only one set. And they're ugly. Anyway," he puts them back in the box, turning to the couple, "which ones?"

"Uh, Mitch?" Louis cocks his head to the side. "I-I don't know how to break this to you, but... those lights need to be plugged in and we haven't had electricity for years now."

"Yeah, dumbass, I know," Mitch scoffs. "Don't mean I can't get them to light."

"By...?"

Willy holds up the batteries and small solar panels. "These!"

"We're not one-hundred percent sure this'll work or if we'll have enough, but if not," Mitch shrugs before opening the second tote, pulling out a handful of clear boxes containing battery powered lights. They're smaller and much more delicate than the others. "We got these. They'll take up some smaller batteries, but we got a lot of rechargeables so it shouldn't be too much of a problem. Except they won't be enough to light up the whole place."

While Clementine finds it odd that Mitch is more willing to waste batteries than candles in this situation, she can't help but share his excitement. The thought of string lights illuminating the music room is quite compelling, even if she has no idea how the boys plan to pull this off.

"Smell or not, wouldn't it be easier to just use the candles?" Louis asks. "It sounds like this'll be a lot of work for something that might not even turn on."

"Your rings were a lot of work, too, and they turned out better than the piece of shit Clem wanted to give you."

"Hey, that ring was perfectly fine until you broke it," Clementine argues.

"And yet, you prefer the ones I made, don't'cha?"

"I never said I didn't." Clementine pulls out more lights to study, these ones green. "You really think you can get these to work?"

"Do you doubt me?"

"No."

"Then, hell yeah, I can," he smirks. "S'not like you're gettin' married tomorrow, so I should have plenty of time to figure this shit out."

"Ah, jack-o-lanterns," James' soft voice comes from behind. His smile is delighted as his eyes widen in awe at the various decorations.

"Hey, James, look!" Willy shoves the vampire mask back on, though crooked this time. "Mwahahaha, I've come to suck your blood!"

James' shoulders shake as he gives a heartful laugh. "You're quite terrifying," he compliments, charmed by the sense of nostalgia the decorations bring. "I haven't seen anything like this in a long time."

"Halloween used to be a pretty big deal here," says Mitch. "Used to get dressed up and trick-or-treat at all the different rooms, but they'd always give us the shitty candy."

"Is that why you preferred the 'trick' part of it?" asks Louis. "Weren't you the one who set off cherry bombs in the toilets?"

"Yeah, but only because Mr. Henderson gave me a handful of Almond Joys."

"Poor, poor Mr. Henderson," Louis sighs. When Clementine gives him a questioning look, he says, "He was the janitor. But, wait, the story gets worse when you find out the toilet still had a bunch of shit in it."

Willy bursts out laughing, holding his sides.

"It was fucking everywhere," snickers Mitch.

"Mitch!" Clementine scolds, crinkling her nose at the horrific idea. "That's disgusting!"

"Well, who the fuck likes Almond Joys? You don't hand that out on Halloween!"

"I wasn't ever a fan of those, either," James says. "I always liked Reese's."

"Yes!" Mitch points at him. "Reese's were the shit!"

"Kitkat's, too."

"Hell yeah! M&M's?"

"All except the peanut ones," James grins.

"Fuck peanut M&M's, man," Mitch happily agrees. He holds his fist out to James, prompting him into a fist bump which James excitedly does.

"Yeah, I was always more of a Skittles man, myself," Louis adds.

"Really?" Clementine asks.

"Oh yeah, I could scarf down bags and bags of Skittles until I made myself sick," Louis grins. "And I did. A lot. What about you?"

"At Halloween? I used to love candy corn."

"Seriously?" Mitch exclaims.

"Oh, darling, no."

"Ew."

"What?" Clementine laughs. "My mom used to make cupcakes every year and decorate with them. They were good!"

"Uh, no, candy corn's worse than Almond Joys!" argues Mitch. "Sorry, Clem, don't think we can be friends anymore."

"Likewise," says Louis.

"Hey!" She picks up the paper pumpkin again and smack's Louis' knee with it again. "Don't judge me!"

"I'm judging you super hard," Louis shakes his head, twisting his face into one of dramatic, exaggerated sorrow as he places his hand over his chest. "My darling Clementine, a lover of candy corn."

"It's not that bad."

"It's pretty bad," James agrees.

"Nasty," Willy nods.

"You were deprived as a child," Louis laments. "My poor Clementine."

"Oh, jeez," she rolls her eyes. "You guys are being ridiculous, you know that?"

"Hey!" A voice calls from the school. They turn to see Aasim coming towards them. "There you are. Ruby's waiting for you guys in the music room."

"Hey, Aasim. We were just looking for her," Clementine says. "Thought maybe she'd pop out here first before getting started."

"Oh, she's been in there all morning moving shit around. Had me and Willy take the couch out," Mitch scoffs. "She was barkin' at me to help her fix something before I snuck out."

"Yeah, the table," says Aasim. "I'm helping her with it. I just need something to tighten the legs. Got anything in the basement?"

"Yeah, check my toolbox," Mitch nods. "Should be by the stairs."

"Great." Aasim wanders towards the basement, uninterested in the various Halloween items thrown about.

"Well," says Clementine turning to Louis, "we've kept her waiting long enough. We better go."

"Before that," Mitch motions to the tote, "which ones?"

Oh, right, the lights.

"Well, obviously," Louis spots a string of green, four-leaf clover lights, no doubt used to celebrate St. Patrick's Day. "These ones, of course."

Clementine rolls her eyes, smirking. "Yeah, probably not."

She likes the idea of the white lights instead of the colored ones. She's still not sure how Ruby's planning on decorating and white lights go with everything.

"These," she says firmly. "They're the same color as the smaller ones, right? We'd probably get more use out of them."

"That's what I was thinking, too," Mitch grins. "We'll practice and test things out on the others. Tell Ruby not to bother with candles."

James peers over her shoulder curiously. "Lights?"

"Mitch here's gonna make them work with no electricity," Louis shrugs. "Like a goddamn wizard."

"Oh," James smiles. "Perhaps I could help? I don't have much to contribute to this wedding and I'd hate to just be a bystander."

Clementine grins. It's sweet that James is so eager to help, and it's good to see him involving himself more with the others.

"That is, if it's okay with you?" James adds, looking for Mitch's approval.

"Uh?" Mitch blinks up at James, obviously thrown off by his offer.

"Hell yeah!" Willy exclaims. "You can help! We're gonna hook 'em up to these batteries and string 'em all over the room!"

James, happy to be included, moves to kneel beside Mitch and pulls out the lights to study them closer. Mitch eyes him, mouth twisted into an unsure frown, but upon seeing Willy's excitement, he shrugs.

"Sure." Then, he nods over at Clementine. "Go see Ruby. We'll take care of things out here."

Clementine offers them one last smile before she and Louis wander away.

"Think he'll actually get them to light?" Louis asks.

"I think if anyone could, it'd be Mitch. And, if he can't, we still have plenty of candles."

"Right," Louis nods. He gazes up at the sky, brows furrowed in thought. Then, a charming smile spreads across his face. He pulls open the door, standing aside and motioning towards the entrance. "Shall we?"

---

When they walk into the music room, they're greeted with the unusual sight of what looks to be an aisle leading from the doorway and towards the center of the room.

On the left side, there are three rows of mismatching chairs.

On the right, there are the same three rows but instead of chairs, there are piles of pillows. Ruby's at the other end, peering back and forth between the two in contemplation.

On the far left of the room, Aasim's fixing the legs of a long table, no doubt the one that'll be holding their meal. He's quietly grumbling to himself, something about none of the wrenches working or being the proper size.

"Ah! Clem, Lou!" Ruby beams at the couple, rushing down the aisle towards them. "Good, yer here!"

"Wow, Ruby, you've already transformed the place."

"More like emptied it," Louis says, looking around the room. "Heard you took the couch out but damn."

Now that he mentions it, Clementine does notice that it feels particularly empty. The couch is gone, as well as the modified table they used last night. The walls are bare now, too. Even the portrait of the old headmaster's gone.

"Yeah, me and Aasim moved it all out," says Ruby. "Gotta make room fer the aisle! Which, now that yer here, ya can help me decide."

She takes a few steps back now, pointing to both sides.

"Which one ya like better? Chairs or pillows?" she asks. "I've been goin' back and forth on it for ages now. Chairs would maybe look nicer and it'll be easier ta stand, but pillows are comfy and cozy and easier ta kick outta the way." She turns to study the chair side some more. "Then again, chairs would be more traditional since we ain't got benches."

"There's nothing traditional about this wedding," calls Aasim from under the table.

"True," Ruby considers.

"Uh?" Louis glances at Clementine. "We're deciding on seating arrangements, right?"

Ruby motions to the aisle they're standing in. "Yep. Ya see, when Clem walks, she'll come down this path ta meet ya over there," she points over where the aisle stops, "and the rest'a us will be seated on either side," she explains. "Whattya think? Should we sit in chairs or on pillows? Which do ya prefer?"

The couple takes in their options before turning to each other.

"Whatever you want will work for me," Louis shrugs.

Clementine shakes her head. "It's your wedding, too. You're allowed to have a say."

"Isn't the bride supposed to make all the choices for her special day? I thought all I had to do is stand up there and look pretty."

Clementine laughs. "Well, sure, that's part of it," she teases, "but this isn't just my wedding. You should get as much choice in it as I do."

That's... not what he expected.

Not that he was expecting Clementine to turn into Bridezilla or anything, either. He just always assumed that the bride has the final say in everything since the wedding is supposed to be "her day."

But, glancing between his two choices, he can't deny any blatant favoritism towards one, and if he really does get a say...

"Not gonna lie, I like the pillows."

"I'm shocked."

"What?" he chuckles. "Ruby's right. They're cozy! They're also mine, by the way, just collecting dust in my old room. Might as well put them to good use."

"Yeah, had Willy grab the rest of 'em this mornin'," Ruby says. "Hope ya don't mind."

"Nah," Louis waves a dismissive hand. "Just, y'know, make sure they get put back in our room when everything's said and done."

"Uh, no, not all of them," Clementine objects. "We don't have space for all of these. You're pushing it already with the ones you have."

"Ah, my darling, I think you're missing the bigger picture here. Imagine the pillow fort we could create with all of these. It'd be magnificent, the coziest castle in all the lands. It'd put all those who tried to match its majesticness to shame."

Clementine rolls her eyes so hard it almost hurts. "Too bad there's no room for such a fort."

"We might have some extra space if you didn't pick up every animal skull you found."

"Hey, that's different," she laughs. "Those look cool!"

"Uh-huh."

Clementine bites her lip to suppress a smile, turning back to Ruby. "Pillows it is."

"Got it! Aasim?"

Aasim, still under the table, jerks up too fast and smacks his head against the corner. "Ah, shit!" he hisses.

"Shoot, you okay?" Ruby asks, worried by how harsh that thump sounded.

"Yeah, yeah," Aasim waves it off while rubbing the tender spot on his head.

"Sounded like that hurt."

"Nope, not at all," Aasim lies. "What do you need?"

"Can ya help me move some of these ta the side? Figure we keep some in case anyone wants ta take a break after the dancin' starts."

"Dancing!" Louis says with a bright grin. "Hear that, Aasim? We'll finally get to see those sweet moves you've been hiding from us."

"Dude, piss off."

"Oh, don't be such a sourpuss," Ruby chuckles. "I already picked out a bunch'a swing and slow songs fer it. And, yes," she pointedly looks at Aasim with a smirk, "we're all dancin', at least a little."

"I don't dance," Aasim says flatly.

Ruby jerks her thumb towards Clementine. "Well, ya gotta at least dance with the bride. It's good luck."

Aasim looks at Clementine, an awkward panic rising in his features. "Uh-"

"And the groom," Louis adds with a wink. "The good luck's only valid when you dance with the bride and the groom."

Aasim's shoulders droop as his expression becomes exasperated. "Oh my god..." he grumbles.

At that, Louis laughs. More thoughts, ways to tease poor Aasim, enter his mind but he decides to keep quiet for now. Don't want to provoke the guy too much, especially in front of Ruby.

"Aw, don't be embarrassed, Aasim," Ruby smiles at him. "I'm sure yer a great dancer. Oh, also," she turns back to Louis, "I pulled some slower, prettier ones out fer ya ta look at. We need somethin' to play while Clem's walkin'."

"I'll give 'em a look," he says. "Sounds like this'll be quite the hoedown."

"Oh, this's gonna be better than any other hootenanny we've had before," Ruby's excitement carries in her voice as she begins to move the chairs. "And, now that yer both here, we can get down to the nitty-gritty."

"Nitty-gritty?" Clementine asks, amused.

"Right," Ruby grins. "Like I said, yer gonna walk down this way and over here," she moves to the other side of the room, close to the fireplace, "is where we're gonna have one'a those big arches fer ya ta stand under."

"An arbor," Aasim adds.

"Right, that. Mitch said he'd figure somethin' out."

"He sure has his hands full, doesn't he?" Clementine says. With him trying to fix a bunch of lights that may not even work, as well as his other daily duties, she wonders where he's going to find the time build an arbor.

"Does it ta himself," Ruby rolls her eyes. "Did he tell ya his big idea?"

"Oh yeah. He's pretty excited about it," Clementine grins. "James is helping, too."

"Well, maybe he'll keep that boy outta trouble," Ruby frowns. "Anyway..."

Ruby told them all about her plans, from how they'll decorate the serving table down to where they'll hang the banner Tenn and AJ's making.

All the while, Louis went through different records in search of the perfect one. When he finds it, he glances over at Clementine, who's deciding how many candles they'll need if the lights fall through, and smiles. He tucks it away where she won't see it, making a mental note to tell Ruby about it when the day comes.

It's decided that AJ will be the one to give Clementine away, while Aasim will be the one to marry them.

"Really?" Clementine turns to the other boy, brows raised in surprise.

"Sure," Ruby grins. "He's the best choice, don't'cha think?"

At that, Aasim glances away, scratching the back of his head with mild nervousness. He shrugs, saying, "Yeah, I can marry you guys. It's not like it'd be that hard."

"'Pastor Aasim' does have a nice ring to it," Louis mumbles more to himself than to them, still over messing with the records.

"I think the term is 'marriage officiant,'" Aasim says. "At least, according to 'Save the Date!' weekly."

"Been doing your research?"

"Not research," he replies defensively, "I mean, it was with the other magazines. We were looking at it for ideas."

After going over all the fine details of the wedding, neither of them expected Ruby to kick them out.

"Decided that we want it ta be a big surprise," Ruby explains. "So, neither of ya are allowed in here 'til yer wedding day, that's the rule."

"Uh, I have a very strong objection to that!" Louis complains. "You're telling me that I don't get to play piano until after I'm married?"

"Yep, and don't you think 'bout sneakin' in here," she warns, pointing a stern finger up at him. "I ain't afraid ta drag you out by yer ear."

"But this could take weeks! Weeks!" Louis turns to Clementine with pleading eyes. "Tell her she's crazy!"

Clementine rolls her eyes. "I actually think some time away from the piano could do you some good. It's not going to take weeks to plan, right?"

"Wouldn't say so, but it'll take time ta put it all together."

She turns to him, shrugging a shoulder with a smile. "I like the idea of it being a surprise."

Louis frowns, hands planted on his hips in a way that reminds her of AJ when she doesn't give him what he wants. Now she knows where he learned it.

"Thought I got a say in this?"

"You do, but I have a feeling Ruby's not gonna budge on this one."

"Not even a little," Ruby agrees. "Ya two will live stayin' outta here fer a while. When it's all prepared, ya'll be the first ta know. Trust me, it'll be worth it. We won't disappoint ya."

Louis' shoulders slump, defeated with a hand pressed against his chest. "Sweet, sweet Ruby, you've broken my heart."

"Oh, Lou, don't you fret. I'll make sure ta keep yer piano nice and safe while yer gone."

"You'll find something else to occupy your time," Clementine tells him, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze.

"Think'a this as a good thing, Lou," Ruby says. "It'll give ya extra time ta work on yer vows."

"My what?"

"Yer vows! Y'know, ta tell each other how ya feel durin' the ceremony!"

"Like," Louis glances at Clementine, "in front of everyone?"

"I didn't know that was a thing," says Clementine a little surprised.

"Well, not all weddings have an exchange of vows," Aasim shrugs. "But, Ruby thinks it's a good idea."

"It is a good idea! It don't gotta be nothin' dramatic. Yer just makin' a promise ta each other. And no helpin'! They gotta be yer own words."

With that, Ruby shoos them out of the music room. Louis takes one last look inside, over at the piano and the initials adorning the wood, before Ruby slams the door shut behind them.

They move down the hallway together with Louis still partially sulking over the fact that he's been exiled from the music room, his home away from home.

He knows he shouldn't complain. Ruby's just trying to make things perfect for them, and bless her heart for that, but kicking him out of his safe space? What's he supposed to do now after a long day of survival?

"Shit," Louis sighs.

"It's not that bad. We'll just have to tune the piano after we're married."

"Great."

"Don't pout."

"I'm not."

"Uh-huh."

"Vows, though?" he asks. "You mean I have to actually put how I feel about you into words and say it in front of everyone?"

While this certainly wasn't something she expected when she first started planning to ask Louis to marry her, the idea of exchanging vows did make her heart flutter. She knows that even now, two years into their relationship, Louis still has his doubts. Perhaps she could use her vows to cement and bring peace to his mind about the way she feels about him.

"I'm actually excited. Aren't you?"

At that, he softens. "I'm fucking ecstatic. About marrying you, that is. Not the being kicked out part, and the vows thing I'm still a little iffy about."

She stops walking, turning to face him with a kind, loving grin. "Good, I'm glad to hear it. And, don't worry, I know you.  You'll write something great."

He grins, still a little uncertain. She seemed to always have so much faith in him. He just didn't want to let her down.

"I'm going to check up on AJ. See if he wants to go hunting. You wanna come? It'll take your mind off it."

He almost says yes, but then another pressing matter fills his brain, reminding him what's more important at the moment.

"Nah, you go on ahead," Louis says. "I think I'm gonna go see Violet now."

"Oh," Clementine's shift away, as if thinking. "Okay. Just... don't get your hopes up, alright?"

"Clem..."

"I don't want you to get hurt again."

"I know. I'll be okay, promise. To be honest, I'm looking forward to it," he admits. "I haven't hung out with her in a while." He smiles down at her. "You be safe out there. Both of you."

"Always."

With a final kiss goodbye, they separate.

---

Louis' hesitant to knock.

He knows he shouldn't be. He knows that Tenn'll answer the door and let him in. It's just what happens after he's in the room that's bringing the delay upon his hand.

He'd gone back to grab a few things, including the thick blanket folded over his other arm. He just hopes he can sell this idea to her well enough to cheer her up.

He can hear someone moving around, the wooden floor wincing and the hum of a voice.

Louis' arm starts to ache from having it raised, ready to knock without actually following through. He hears a softer voice now, definitely Violet's, and it tugs a small smile on his lips.

He's eager to speak with her, see her face. Even though it's only been a few days since they really talked, it feels longer. Especially since he had planned on checking in with her yesterday before all the excitement went down.

Thank god for Tenn.

He takes a deep breath, counting to three, and knocks.

After a brief moment, the door unlocks and Tenn peeks out at him. Upon seeing it's Louis, he opens the door further with a polite grin, glancing back at where it's assumed Violet is.

"Hey, Tenn!"

"Good-morning, Louis," the young boy greets. He glances back again, then pulls the door open all the way.

Violet's sitting on the bed with her back against the wall, legs crossed, and her water bottle resting in her lap. Louis can't help but lightly chuckle at her bedhead and the imprint lines still running along her cheek from the pillow. Seems that she's just woken up.

"Nice to see you, sunshine," Louis beams.

She rolls her eyes, yawning. She avoids looking directly at him, taking an interest in her cuticles instead.

He makes sure the door is shut and locked before he proceeds. Tenn moves over to his desk, not wanting to get in the way of the conversation. Louis can see he's practicing his bottles, though unhappily.

Louis confidently approaches the bed and sets the blanket over the bed frame, standing before her with hands gripping the opening flaps of his jacket and a brow quirked playfully.

"Vi, put on your best climbing boots, you and I are going on an adventure."

She blinks up at him slowly, blankly.

"Now, now," Louis holds his hands up, "I know you're excited, but please, let me finish."

He exaggerates clearing his throat.

"I don't know if you've looked outside today, but it's damn beautiful. Not only is it warm and breezy, but the clouds are big and fluffy. It's a depiction of a perfect day. I say we go enjoy it the best we can by climbing up to that place you like and breathing in some of that fresh air."

She glances away, mouth twisted in contemplation.

Louis takes a careful step towards the bed, deeming it safe to sit on the edge. That catches her attention. When she meets his eye, he gives her a genuine smile.

"It's been a while since we hung out, just the two of us, don't you think?" Then, with a smirk, he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a wrinkly, noisy bag. "And I brought pretzels, so, I mean..."

The corner of her mouth twitches up into an involuntary grin before she bites her cheek to hide it. Violet lightly shakes her head, murmuring, "I don't know." She flicks the mouthpiece of her water bottle up and down absently. "I'm not feeling too good today."

"Hmm," Louis fully faces her now, bringing his leg to rest on the mattress as he leans against the frame. "That fresh air might make you feel better."

Tenn's chair scrapes against the floor as he stands to gather up his drawing board. "It really is nice out," he says. "I'm gonna go out there and draw, okay?"

Louis grins, nudging Violet's knee and pointing at the young boy. "Have you seen how much he's improved? You should see the one he did of my handsome mug."

Tenn glances away timidly. "Um..."

This time, Violet smiles. She really smiles. "Yeah," she says, "you're getting better every day."

"Th-thank you."

Not wanting to feel awkward or butt into their conversation, Tenn leaves.

Now that they're alone, Louis takes a deep breath and allows his tone to become more serious.

"Haven't seen you for a while."

She shrugs, staring back down at her hands.

"I've been worried about you," he says. "I'm not gonna force you to hang out with me or anything, but I really do think going outside could be good for you."

"I-" she sighs. "You don't have to play nice. I know why you're really here."

"To challenge you to that wall climb? Because I'm totally going to beat you this time. Unless you cheat, of course."

She shoots him an unamused look.

Louis shifts closer to her on the bed. "Alright, you got me." He sets the bag of pretzels down and digs in his pocket again, pulling out his famous deck of cards. "I'm really going to challenge you to a very serious game of Go-Fish! Winner gets the last pretzel."

She rolls her eyes. "Dumbass."

"Maybe," he pockets the cards, "but, I haven't heard a 'no' yet, so there's a good sign." He picks up the bag of pretzels again, closing them up tightly and shoving them back into his jacket.

Violet takes a sip of her water, pointedly looking the other way.

"We don't have to go outside, and we don't have to talk about what happened. That's totally up to you, and if you really don't want to hang out with me, then all you have to say is 'no.' I'll get out of your hair. Promise."

He's patient as he watches her eyes fall shut.

Louis completely understands her hesitation, especially since she can see through him. At least, she thinks she can. He won't bring up the chat from the night before, but he's going to tell her the truth about him and Clementine, and he still doesn't know how she'll react.

Maybe she'd congratulate him in her own 'Violet' way, or maybe she'd snap at him for bringing Clementine up in the first place. Maybe she'd do nothing, just crawl back into her shell and refuse to ever talk to him again. Maybe she'd throw him over the balcony.

The possibilities are endless.

"It's really that nice out?"

"Best we've had in a while."

Violet scoots off the bed, handing him her water bottle as she gathers up her boots and slips them on.

"I'm totally gonna kick your ass on that wall climb."

Louis smirks. "Oh-ho! Cocky, much? Careful, Rabbit," he stands, teasingly shaking her water bottle, "sleep on this tortoise and he just might pass you."

"Hmm, we'll see."

She's still tentative about leaving, as evident by how long she sits on Tenn's bed after putting her vest on. But, Louis gives her his best encouraging smile, and that seems to put her at ease.

Shit, he's relieved that she's actually agreeing to come with him.

It's true, he does want to spend time with her, impending wedding confession or not. It really has been a long time since it was just the two of them.

With his nightmares and always being with Clementine, and Violet being so reclusive, it's hard sometimes. He knows he needs to make more effort, set aside more time to be with her. The guilt always begins to seep in whenever he goes more than a week without truly speaking to her.

Of course, she doesn't always make it easy.

He gives her space, even if he knows she needs someone.

What else can he do?

Their walk outside is peaceful. He carries the blanket, as well as her water bottle. By the time they reach the wall they need to climb, he's trying to stuff the bottle into his coat and keep the blanket secure on his shoulder.

"Y'know, I'm starting to think you only win because you weigh me down with all this stuff," he complains.

"Think of it as your shell," she smirks. "Ready?"

"Nope."

She's already climbing up, leaving him to still try and find his footing on one of the wooden planks.

"Hey, hey!" he says. "I didn't hear a 'ready, set, go!'"

"Ready, set, go!"

"Disqualified!" he exclaims, pulling himself up the wall while keeping the blanket from falling off his shoulder. "Rabbit, you're disqualified! I win by default!"

"You wish."

By the time he reaches the final ledge, adrenaline's coursing through his veins from the climb and height of where they are. Not that's he's afraid of heights, per se. It's more like he's completely aware of what would become of him if he were to slip off the edge and that's certainly not a happy thought.

Violet offers him her hand to help pull him up. When he's safely resting on his knees away from the ledge, he playfully glares at her.

"Cheater."

"Sore loser."

They find a spot lacking debris, smooth enough for Louis to lay the blanket flat. He plops down with a huff, ready to lighten the load of his heavy pockets. She sits close beside him, inhaling deeply and taking her water bottle from him. She sips the lukewarm water, looking up at the cloudy sky.

The breeze is nice, fresh. It ruffles her hair and cools her skin.

Louis can see by the serenity laying upon her features that she's already feeling better. It causes a smile to break free on his lips.

He offers her the bag of pretzels, saying, "What'd I tell you? Beautiful day."

"Eh, it's always nice up here."

"Maybe, but it's even better when the weather's like this. I don't know about you, but I'm not exactly gonna picnic up here in the middle of winter."

Louis lays back, stretching out across the hard surface and tucking his arm behind his head. He should've brought some pillows, but he can only imagine the disaster that would've been him trying to balance them while climbing the wall. The tortoise surely would've gone splat.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Violet lay down beside him. They both stare up at the white, fluffy clouds as they pass over.

"Ah, see how nice this?" he asks. "So calm and peaceful and quiet."

"Not if you keep talking."

"If I don't talk, I'll fall asleep. That's how relaxing it is."

Violet doesn't reply, but Louis can tell she's smiling. He pops a pretzel in his mouth, racking his brain for something to say.

He can't just come out with it now since they just got here. Well, okay, he could but it's not the best idea. He wants to enjoy her company before they got into the deeper stuff that could potentially end with him being thrown over the railing.

"Okay," he starts, "would you rather... be half fish or half bird?"

"So, a mermaid or a harpy?"

"Yep."

Violet mulls it over before firmly answering, "Harpy."

"Really?"

"I could go anywhere I want, travel the world without having to worry about walkers."

"What if there are walker harpies?" Louis asks.

"Even if there are, they wouldn't be a threat. They'd be flying into trees and buildings with how stupid they are. I'd be faster and smarter, and much more terrifying."

Louis laughs at that, imagining Violet flying around kicking walkers in the head and smacking them with her meat cleaver, screeching like some kind of rooster. Harpies don't make rooster calls, he's pretty sure, but it's funny to imagine regardless.

"And where would you go?"

"Everywhere. Nowhere. Depends on the day." Violet smirks. "Okay, would you rather only get to eat one serving of possum stew once a month, and that's the only food you ever get, or only eat cantaloupe every day for the rest of your life?"

"Aw, c'mon," Louis complains, frowning over at her. "Really? Guess I'm gonna starve."

"Just plug your nose and swallow."

"I think you underestimate how awful and lingering the taste of cantaloupe is. No matter what you eat or drink after, you'll be tasting it for the rest of the day." Louis scrunches his nose, shaking his head. "I'd rather eat walker guts."

"Oh yeah, because that taste would fade away."

They laugh, really laugh together.

"Okay, okay," he giggles. "Would you rather have a head the weight of a bowling ball or the size one of those big, bouncy workout balls?"

"Easy. Workout ball," Violet answers. "Here's a fun one. Would you rather be stuck in the middle of a crazy snow storm naked, or stuck in a blazing hot desert with ten layers of clothing on?"

"Shit," says Louis. "Can I at least wear shoes in the snowstorm?"

"Nope, you're as naked as the day you were born. And no, you can't take anything off in the desert."

Well, that seems highly unrealistic.

"Why not? What's stopping me?"

"You're dehydrated and can't move."

"And why am I naked in the middle of a snowstorm?"

"Wolves stole your clothes."

"Wolves? What- they took my boots, too?"

"All of your stuff."

"Those bastards," Louis lours. "Fuck, I dunno. Neither of those are exactly appealing ways to go."

"They're not supposed to be. That's the point of the game."

"Which would you choose?"

"The desert. When I die of heatstroke, at least I'll have my dignity and won't be found black and blue and naked. Then again, you might die faster if you freeze to death."

Well, this game took a turn to the morbid, as it usually does. He shouldn't be surprised. It is Violet he's talking to, after all.

"Damn." Louis focuses his gaze on one of the clouds, its shape reminding him of a whale, thick and huge with a long tail spreading out.

"So?"

"The snowstorm," he decides. "Maybe the wolves will eat me and I won't have to worry about my dignity."

"Always the optimist," Violet sighs, reaching to grab a handful of pretzels.

A long time passes as the two of them point up and laugh as the disfigured clouds take shape of various things. Every once in a while, they come up with another 'would you rather' question, each more disturbing and hilarious than the last.

Eventually, they let the silence take over and enjoy the light whistling of the wind and rustling of leaves.

As Louis studies the sky, he can't help but feel his nerves tingling under his skin and his heart became heavy with anticipation. He thinks back to Clementine's worried eyes before they parted ways and how her lips felt pressed against the sensitive skin of his cheek.

Fuck, he could keep stalling the inevitable all day and all night sitting beside Violet and pretending nothing else existed, just them and the sky.

But, he can't, and he doesn't want to.

Subtly glancing over at the girl beside him, a strange wave of guilt floods through him.

He has to tell her.

Every time he thinks it, imagines it, his confidence wavers.

Violet points up that the sky, her voice snapping him out of his thoughts.

"That cloud looks like a dick."

He turns to stare at her with wide eyes. "I'm sorry, what?"

"It does. Look."

"You don't know what a dick looks like!" He pauses, a little disturbed. "Do you?"

"How could I not? They're carved all over the place."

"Ah, touché." He squints. "Yeah, okay, I can kind of see it."

He goes quiet again, but his mind continues to race.

Should he just say it?

Hey, Vi, guess what? I'm getting married! Cool, huh? Be my best lady?

Violet seems to notice his sudden silence, looking over at him every so often. He's sure he appears unsettled by something. Most of the time, when she bothered to really pay attention to him, she could read him easily.

And now, she knows something's wrong.

She sighs, almost annoyed, pushing herself up to rest back on her elbows, looking over him.

"What?"

"What?" he echoes stupidly.

Her irritation only grows, but something in her eyes tells him that it stems from some sort of knowing.

"You look upset," she says. "What'cha thinking about?"

When he doesn't say anything, she chuckles dryly, bitterly.

He can feel it. The air has changed and there's no more real laughter.

It's finally time.

"Lemme guess... you don't really want to hang out with me. You're just trying to think of a way to ask about the other night."

"No, that's not true," he replies quickly. "I already told you we didn't have to talk about it."

"So, she already told you everything." Violet lays back again, shaking her head with a clearly pissed off expression. "Fucking- ugh."

"She didn't, actually," Louis tells her softly. "She just said that she came to you to try and fix things and you two talked. That's it."

He cranes his neck to fully look at her, looking over the profile of her face, angry yet somber, lips pressed into a tight line.

"Fix things," she scoffs. "She tell you she brought Mitch with her? Like I'm some sort of psycho that'll cut her in half if she doesn't have any protection."

"That's not-," Louis sighs. "He was worried that things might get out of hand and wanted to be there just in case."

"You really think I'd fucking attack her?"

"Of course not, but... you did before, and you know how Mitch is."

Violet shoots up, bringing her knees in and wrapping her arms around them. Louis follows, trying to meet her eye but she refuses, her glare focused out through the trees.

"I don't want to fight. That's not why I brought you up here."

"Then why are we really here, Lou?"

Despite the disgruntled eyes, her tone isn't angry. It's tired, dreading what his answer might be.

"Because something crazy happened yesterday."

"Crazy?"

"Yeah, unbelievably crazy. I-" Louis bites his lip.

Fuck it.

Beating around the bush is never the right way to go about these things.

"Spit it out."

With one final look at her, he slowly raises his arm up and over her line of sight, spreading his fingers and allowing his ring to be seen. He watches for a reaction, finding her brows knitted with confusion.

Finally, Louis says, "I'm getting married."

The words hang in the air.

Hell, he's not positive he actually spoke them given her lack of response.

He brings his hand back to rest against his chest, feeling his anxious heart pounding against his palm.

He swallows, finding his mouth and throat suddenly dry. "Clementine proposed last night," he says quietly. "I said yes, of course."

She's processing everything he's saying, and with every passing second, her eyes become wider with realization.

"I know. Like I said, it's crazy," Louis says. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. We're having a wedding. In the music room, of course, where else? Heh, uh..."

She's unmoving, still unresponsive to his attempted light tone.

"Ruby's there now, decorating and tearing the place apart," he tries. "She's banished us from going in there. Can you believe that? I'm not allowed to flex my piano skills until after the wedding. I still don't know if I'm gonna be able to handle that, you know."

Nothing.

"And, apparently, Mitch is magic now because he thinks he can get some of those old Christmas lights to work without electricity, so we'll see how that goes. Hopefully, he doesn't end up electrocuting himself, or James. Or Willy, or all three of 'em."

Louis watches her fingernails dig into her sleeve.

His heart sinks as a small, disheartening sigh escapes his lips. He searches within himself, trying to find the right words to get something out of her.

"I don't know when it's gonna be, but when the day comes..." he takes a deep breath, "...I'd really like it if you were there."

She tenses, breathing deeply through her nose.

"Everyone'll be there, and it wouldn't be perfect without you, Vi. You know that, right? You don't have to stay long. Omar said he's gonna make a big feast. Of what, I don't know but even if you just came to grab something to eat, that'd be enough. I just... I need you there with us. All of us."

Nothing.

"Vi, say something," he pleads. "Please talk to me."

"What the fuck, Lou?"

He flinches at the harsh pain cracking her voice.

"I-"

"That's why you brought me up here? You butter me up with 'Oh, Vi, I miss you, let's hang out' and pretzels and stupid questions and then you tell me that?"

"Should I have just kept it to myself? Let you find out from Tenn or Ruby or whoever?"

"You could've just told me back in the dorms," she glares over at him. "You didn't have to drag me all the way up here for some 'big reveal.'"

"I just wanted to spend some time with you before I-"

"Shut up," she snaps, her hand flying out in a gesture of silence. "Just, shut up. I should've fucking known. First Clementine, now you." She scoffs.

"I don't understand why you're so pissed! You're one of my best friends. Even if you don't like Clementine, I thought you'd at least be a little happy for me."

"Happy for you? Are you fucking serious? You really don't get it?"

"Of course I don't! You need to explain it to me or else we'll be stuck in this shitty loop!"

Violet finally looks at him, right in the eye.

"How can you love her?"

"What-?"

"After everything she put us through? After AJ killed Marlon?"

"Clementine saved us, Vi. She saved you. Without her, we'd all either be dead, or worse. And Marlon, I- shit, why does that even matter to you? You hated Marlon, and-and I get why AJ did what he did and I don't hate either of them for it."

"You did, though, remember? When you kicked them out?"

"That was a mistake, one of the worst ones I've ever made. I-I was still in shock over what happened, and scared, and-"

"Doesn't change what you did," she says coldly. "Just like how it doesn't change what she did." Then, she shrugs. "Maybe you were right. We should've kicked them out permanently."

"Don't," he snaps, his voice coming out surprisingly harsh. "Don't say that. Who knows what would've happened to us, or to them, if you hadn't shot Lilly!"

"You wouldn't have been shot."

"So? It saved them!"

"Oh, that's right," she scoffs, her voice becoming bitter, "I forgot. If we didn't save them or let her back in, you two wouldn't have been able to suck face instead of preparing for our doom. How could I forget?"

"Violet, that's- How can you say all this stuff? You defended her!"

"Yeah, and look where it got me!" exclaims Violet as she slaps the bag of pretzels between then, sending it flying near the edge of the balcony. "Abandoned, beat upside the head and thrown into a cage! Maybe I should've been an asshole. Maybe then she would've saved me."

"I-"

He can't look at her now. He stares down at his fists curled in his lap, trying to control his heavy, aching heart.

"You have no idea what they threatened to do to us on that ship, Louis. And if you did, if she let them take you, then I guarantee you wouldn't be so quick to defend her, much less love her."

"God, Vi, I-" he chokes out. "It's not her fault. It was those sick fucks who did that. Not her. Say we did leave her, never brought her and AJ back in. We wouldn't have been ready for their attack- they would've taken and threatened and tortured or even killed all of us. We'd all be brainwashed soldiers... just like," he swallows thickly. "...just like Minnie."

Violet's fuming, hands shaking violently at his words.

"Blaming all of it on Clem... it's not- it's not going to fix anything. It's made you miserable, and it kills me seeing you like this."

Louis scoots closer to her now, throwing caution to the wind as he reaches and grabs her hand, holding tight even when she tries to jerk away.

"I wish I could heal it, take it all away, I really do! Fuck, I-I wish Clementine had saved you instead! Maybe if she had, things would be better. Shit, you're a better fighter, better strategist, better everything! You sure as hell wouldn't have panicked like I did! We would've taken down the delta together and we'd all still be friends, but- fuck!"

He shrugs his shoulders helplessly, weakly.

"She should've picked you."

Her grip on his hands tighten.

"The entire time you guys were gone, I just... I tried to be better, I tried to be strong and help the best I could to bring you all back, I-" his voice cracks.

Violet remains silent.

"I don't want to fight anymore."

He lets go of her hand.

Violet holds her wrist as the quiet falls over them again for the first time in minutes.

"I love you, Violet," he whispers, "and whether or not you feel the same, we're family. We're all we have left. You don't have to hide from us- any of us. We miss you."

She stands up, pausing before passing him.

"Violet, please..."

"I've had enough fresh air."

He watches her leave, biting his lip to stop his chin from quivering. When it's just him, completely alone with nothing but the sunshine and clouds, Louis lays back on the blanket. He forces himself to breathe, to calm down, to swallow the lump choking in his throat.

He lays there a long time, hours, just thinking to himself.

When the sky turns a pretty orange, he finally rolls up the blanket and climbs back down.

Clementine and AJ are sitting and talking at one of the tables when he comes out.

She spots him, quickly standing with such a devastatingly hopeful look that Louis about loses it.

All he can do is shake his head.

---

For the past week, in between the usual have-to's of surviving, they've been preparing for the wedding.

Ruby has transformed the music room with the help Tenn and AJ, who both drew and cut out white and gold hearts to tape all over the walls, as well as other various decorations.

Aasim has taken his role of the 'marriage officiant' rather seriously. When he wasn't helping Ruby, he was jotting down everything he planned to say during the ceremony.

Omar spent his extra time helping the kids out with their decorations, as well as preparing a centerpiece for the serving table and thinking up ideas for the main course.

Mitch, James, and Willy spent the entire week together figuring out how to hook up the lights, and miraculously, they managed to get them to work. That one had left Ruby stunned, but elated.

Of course, Clementine and Louis weren't too involved, as per Ruby's request to keep pretty much everything a surprise. The most the two of them contributed were answers to what colors they wanted for this and what should they do with that.

As a result, they got stuck doing a lot more of the hunting and scavaging, but with that came more time together, just the two of them. As much as they both love AJ and enjoy his company, as well as the company of the others, it's nice to venture out from the walls of the school and be alone.

When it's just them out in the woods, hunting or fishing -when Louis allows it- or just resting against some of the protruding boulders laying around, it's different.

They really did work well together, in more ways than one. With Clementine in charge of the bow and Louis on walker look-out and trap duty, they got plenty done in a short amount of time.

Well, plenty done in between their conversations, flirtations, and stolen kisses, of course.

And, when they weren't together or hanging out with the others, they were writing their vows.

Well, Clementine was.

Louis mostly just stared at an empty piece of paper before growing frustrated and putting it off some more.

As for Violet...

She's taken to sleeping in Tenn's room every night, but, surprisingly, she'd began spending most of the days sitting outside. She'd place herself at one of the unoccupied tables and silently write in her little journal, the one Aasim had given her. Whenever someone came out, whether that be Omar coming out to cook, or Mitch and James with their tote of lights, or even Clementine and Louis preparing to go on a hunt, she always watched them. Not noticeably, and not with vexation.

Louis and Clementine had overheard Ruby asking her if she wanted to help decorate the walls. Violet had declined, but not sourly.

Louis wanted to go over there himself, but Clementine stopped him.

He hates it, but they both agreed it's best to give her space until after the wedding and after the excitement dies down. He couldn't keep throwing himself down on his hands and knees begging Violet to be apart of this.

Shit, he's just happy to see her outside so much.

Then, the evening finally comes where Ruby's swinging their bedroom door open, bursting with excitement as she enters with the big news.

"How do ya feel about tomorrow?"

Tomorrow.

After waiting all week, it almost doesn't feel real.

Ruby continues to tell them that nearly everything's ready, with the exception of some lights from Mitch and the banner AJ and Tenn are working on.

After that, she confiscates their rings.

"Yer gonna need 'em off so ya can slip 'em back on when ya say 'I do,'" she explains before Louis can begin to protest.

Louis looks down at his hand with a small frown, as does Clementine. They'd be lying if they said they hadn't grown attached to wearing them over the past week, hadn't grown used to admiring them in the quieter moments.

The boys really did do a wonderful job on making them damn near perfect, and to have to take them off now? Well, it's understandable, and perhaps it'd feel more special if did so now.

Clementine's the first to slip hers off and put it in Ruby's palm, followed by Louis who now stares at his naked hand.

"This should go without saying but please don't lose them," Louis sighs.

"Oh, Lou, don't you worry about that. 'Sides, Mitch would have my hide if I did."

Then, Ruby turns to Clementine with a glint of eagerness in her eyes, who meets this gaze with a questioning one.

"Now, as ya know, it's bad luck ta see the bride before the weddin,' so Clem and I are gonna have a little girls night." Ruby then turns to Louis, who wears a look at dread at what's coming next. "And, Lou, I already talked ta Aasim, yer bunkin' with him tonight."

"But-"

"No buts! Clem's gotta try on clothes and that's even worse bad luck ta see her in her weddin' outfit the night before!"

"But-but-"

"And ya need ta work on yer vows anyway. I know ya don't got 'em done."

"But-"

"I'll come back in a while with the clothes and we can have some fun."

"But-"

"Louis."

Ruby's tone shuts him up.

---

Violet's head pounds lightly, the beginnings of a headache starting to creep up. She forces herself to chug the rest of her water bottle, grimacing at the stale taste clinging to her tongue.

Resting comfortably in Tenn's bed with her back against the wall, she rests her chin on her knees as she watches the younger boy work on the floor.

It's a long banner made from some sort of canvas cloth that he'd found in the old art room. The school used to decorate them for sporting events. 'GO TEAM!' and all that. Of course, Tenn isn't working on this for some stupid game.

From what she gathered, James had sketched on the banner for him, since they want it to look "fancy," and with paint - 'Antique Gold', if she remembers correctly - Tenn traced the cursive script carefully, desperately attempting to make it as neat as possible.

Louis & Clementine

Underneath that is a pair of gold-painted rings looped around each other, also drawn by James. Tenn had added little accents of swirls and flowers near the corners and edges, all done in white, black and gold paint.

When he first walked in, he appeared guilty, which Violet didn't like at all. He explained that it's too windy outside for him to work on the banner there, and he wanted to finish before the wedding tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Shit.

Then, he asked if that was okay, and she told him, "It's your room. You can do whatever you want."

That didn't stop him from occasionally glancing up at her, checking to make sure she didn't look mad.

She knows he doesn't want to upset her, doesn't want her to think he's shoving the wedding and its banner in her face.

But, the truth is, she doesn't feel upset.

To say it's confusing is putting it mildly.

As fucked as it is... she actually feels left out.

That's a feeling and a thought that had really fucked with her head. It's not like she had asked to help and then they turned her away.

No, several times this week Ruby has asked if she wanted to help and she turned her down every single time.

Ever since she and Clementine talked, things have been fucked.

"I don't want to fight with or avoid you anymore. I- ...I really miss you, Vi."

Violet was happy to spend the rest of her days in the shadows of the school, hiding away from almost everyone. Well, shit, okay she wasn't happy but she accepted it.

It was easier that way.

Then, Clementine just had to come and try to patch things up, reopen the flood gates and make Violet remember why she had liked her so damn much in the beginning.

"I'll never let anyone take you again. We're family."

It's fucked, and she hates it.

Then, there's Louis who had come to her with good intentions, brought her to her favorite place and made her laugh like no one else could.

Louis, who had opened himself up to her again, like he always does. Louis, who had grabbed her hand and poured everything out to her, all with complete honesty, raw emotion.

Louis, the only one besides Tenn to continuously stay by her side after the delta.

Louis, who's getting married tomorrow.

And she couldn't just congratulate him and move on.

That's what a real friend would've done. Someone who isn't fucked up, selfish, or so stuck in her own mind that she can't help but hide behind her wall. A real friend would've found a way to climb up and over and hug her friend, especially after everything he's done for her, despite all the pain.

But, no...

Violet just... had to be Violet.

And she wishes she could be anything but.

"I love you, Violet, and whether or not you feel the same, we're family. We're all we have left. You don't have to hide from us- any of us. We miss you."

Why did she have to get so goddamn angry? Why did she have to throw around the same arguments, despite knowing deep inside her that they're bullshit?

Why did she have to nearly bring Louis to tears - fuck - because she couldn't control everything that had built itself up inside of her over the years?

No, it's not all Clementine's fault.

No, they wouldn't have been better off leaving her and AJ in the woods.

No... that wasn't the Minerva she fell in love with.

That Minerva died a long time ago.

But, none of those things take away the pain, the absolute terror of what happened.

None of those things make it any easier to forgive.

...As much as she wants to, to forgive Clementine, the trepidation prevents herself from doing so.

"Ruby and Clem are having a sleepover," Tenn says suddenly, breaking Violet of her thoughts. He sticks his brush in the can and rubbing the paint off his hand. "Ruby said you could go, too, if you want."

And with those words, Violet finds herself enervated.

"She said they're picking out what Clem's gonna wear. It might be fun."

Fun...

"Is AJ coming over here?"

"Y-yeah..." Tenn sullenly looks down at the floor. "You don't have to leave i-if you don't want."

"No, it's okay," Violet reassures him. "Really."

She could sleep in her room tonight. She's bothered the young boy long enough with her overstay.

Just as she's about to leave, Tenn stands, approaching her with his fingers pressed together anxiously.

"Are... are you going tomorrow?"

Something sharp, something painful twists in her gut.

After all the hurtful things she said to Louis... said to Clementine, was she even allowed to attend?

...Did she want to?

"Everyone'll be there, and it wouldn't be perfect without you, Vi. You know that, right?"

"...I don't know."

"I-I'll go with you," Tenn says hopefully. "We can sit together and everything. It really looks nice in there and-and James helped me draw a portrait of them. It's hanging over the fireplace."

She doesn't answer him.

What could she possibly say?

---

Louis' sullen face worries her.

Clementine knows he's not happy about having to spend to the night completely apart. Honestly, she's not thrilled about it either.

This'll be the first time in two years that they won't be sleeping in the same room together. Shit, even when they got into petty fights they still slept in the same bed.

The one comforting thing about this is that neither of them will be alone. She'll be with Ruby and he'll have Aasim. And, when the night's over and the sun rises, it'll be their wedding day. That's enough to make it all worth it, she thinks.

Louis lets out a long, groan mixed sigh. He's sat at the edge of their bed hugging one of his pillows to his chest with a pout on his lips.

She sits beside him, her arm sneaking around his shoulders to comfort him.

"You're gonna be okay," she smiles.

"I dunno," Louis frowns, tone taking a sarcastic turn. "Cuddling with Aasim sure won't be the same as cuddling with you."

That gets a laugh out of her.

"Didn't realize you two were planning that," she teases.

"We're not, but hey, things happen. Might mistake him for you again."

"Again?"

"The morning he came to wake me up to hunt Bambi, I was still half asleep and thought he was you," Louis shrugs. "We held hands."

She laughs harder now, which kills his pout, just a bit. He shakes his head and chuckles with her.

"Aasim failed to mention that part."

"I don't think he liked it very much."

There's banging on the door. Ruby pushes it open with her hip, hands full with a box of clothes.

"Alright, Lou, yer officially kicked out."

A deep, heavy sigh escapes him as he stands from the bed. "Fine, fine. I'm going."

He tosses his bag over his shoulder and tucks both pillows under his arm. He heads out with Clementine close behind. They stop just after the doorway to share a final, tight hug.

"Sleep tight," he murmurs.

Clementine pulls back and rests her palm against the warmth of his cheek. "You, too. Try not to give Aasim too many gray hairs, okay?"

"No promises," he chuckles. He presses a light kiss against her forehead. "Try not to get too crazy."

"You know I can't promise that," she smirks against his chest. "Ruby's quite the party animal."

"Ruby can hear ya!"

"Don't keep her up too late!" Louis peeks back into the room. "Don't know if you've heard, but she's got a big day tomorrow."

"Oh, I know it!"

Louis lets out another deep sigh, forcing a smile down at his bride to be. She leans up on her toes to give him a final kiss, lingering close even when they break away.

"See you tomorrow?"

"Absolutely."

---

"Watch your step. These stairs are pretty steep."

Mitch turns to make sure James has a hold of the railing before heading down into the darkness of the basement. He flicks on his flashlight, bathing the room in a soft light.

With the wedding being tomorrow and still having to fix up the rest of the lights, Mitch admitted to himself that he wouldn't be able to finish it by himself. James was happy to volunteer since it's Willy's turn for lookout tonight.

Mitch didn't mind seem to mind his company, and for that, James is grateful.

"Alright, so I got these left," he says, pulling out four pristine boxes of white string lights, setting them on the workbench. He pulls up another stool, adjusting it to be taller for the other boy. "Here."

"Thank you." James gets comfortable, squinting through the darkness and silently wondering how Mitch plans to work with the lack of light. Then, as if answering his thought, Mitch hands him the flashlight and pulls out a pack of matches.

"Shit, where- ah-ha," Mitch lifts an oil lamp. With a flick of his wrist, the match is lit, then the lamp. He places it between them, close to the wall. Rubbing his hands together, he says, "'Kay, just need'ja to hold the light where I need it and we'll have these done in no time."

"Okay."

He gets straight to it, pulling up the first box.

Mitch is fascinating to watch work, James decides.

Prior to this week, he'd only spoken to with him briefly in the times he stayed, but nothing more. He wasn't one for extended conversation until something was happening, something that he felt strongly about. Something he could get angry about, or get his hands dirty with. Otherwise, Mitch mostly kept to himself, always tinkering with something and grumbling to himself.

"Shine it a little closer," Mitch mumbles. "Riiiight... there- okay."

James had noticed a lot of things throughout the week.

Like how hyper-focused he can get while working on his various projects, and how he never half-asses anything. He gets frustrated, curses worse than any sailor on the seven seas when something fails, but that only seems to motivate him to do it right the next time.

Which is the case with the lights.

The first ones they tested, the "ugly" heart lights, didn't work. They'd been cramped up in that box so long that the wires had become faulty, making them mostly useless.

Mitch cursed, then grabbed another set of lights and tried again, and again, and again until they finally lit.

Then his profanities were ones made out of joy.

The best part, James decided, was watching his and Willy's eyes light up brighter than the lights themselves, the two high-fiving and fist bumping. Then, Mitch ruffled the boy's hair and sent him off to get the other batteries they had charging in the sun.

It intrigues him, knowing he and Willy are so close.

Willy doesn't keep anything to himself, even when he should, and that seems to be the polar opposite of Mitch, who never shares anything truly personal. The deepest thing he's learned about Mitch in the two years he's known him is his passionate hate for Almond Joys.

James supposes that the two share a deeper bond than one could see on the surface, given how long they've known and survived this world together.

What's still a mystery for him is Mitch's fondness for Clementine.

From what he's been told, after the tragedy of AJ taking another boy's life, the two were anything but friendly.

However, upon her return and the agreement that their lives and safety were the highest priority, they pushed their differences aside to work together and their friendship somehow sprouted and grew out of forgiveness, trust, and understanding.

It's nothing romantic, of course. That's easy enough to see. If it were, James rationalizes, then undoubtedly Mitch wouldn't be so passionate about preparing for this wedding; spending days perfecting their wedding rings, dusting and setting up the music room for Clementine's proposal, helping AJ and Tenn build the wedding arbor, modifying old holiday lights to work after they've lived without electricity for years.

Perhaps he finds it humanizing for someone like Mitch, or rather the person he initially thought him to be, to form such a connection to Willy and Clementine.

Then again, James has only known him a short while, and in that short time, he decides that he does like Mitch, oddly enough. Despite most of their conflicting views on things such as the walkers, he finds him enjoyable to be around, interesting to watch.

"Shit," Mitch jerks his chin towards James' arm. "Tape."

James tears off a chunk of the sticky black tape while trying to balance the flashlight. Mitch takes it, going back to work.

Soon enough, the pretty glow of the lights surrounds them.

"Fuck yeah!" Mitch smirks.

Hm.

Mitch has a dimple on his right cheek. The shadows of the basement accentuate it.

"One down," he flips them off, "three to go."

He carefully coils the lights up, sticking them atop their battery and pushing them aside. As he tears open another box, he says, "To think, Ruby still wants to use those nasty ass candles."

"Candles do have a romantic appeal."

"Gross."

James raises a curious brow at him. "You say that a lot," he says, attempting to study his expression.

"Say what?"

"Gross. You call a lot of things gross."

"Probably because they are," Mitch shrugs. "The candles, the wedding, it's all gross."

"Why?"

"Huh?" Mitch finishes untangling the lights, holding up the plugin.

"Why are they gross?" he repeats.

"Well," Mitch starts, "first off, Clem and Louis are pretty gag-inducing with their 'oh Darling!' and 'oh, Lou-Lou!'"

He's never once heard the name "Lou-Lou" come from Clementine, but for some reason, it's an amusing image that makes him grin.

"They're always kissing in front of us, too," Mitch wrinkles his nose. "I don't know if they think we don't see it but we do, and it's gross. And I still think this whole wedding thing is unnecessary."

"Really?" That's a surprise. "Then why are you so eager to help?"

The question seems to catch him off guard. "I-I'm not eager, I just- If they're so hellbent on having a wedding, stupid or not, might as well make the most of it. Besides, gives me something to do. More light."

James brings the flashlight closer.

After a beat of silence, Mitch mumbles, "Everyone's pretty pumped about it, too. Little more."

James scoots closer, giving him more light.

"There- ...uh, and, I dunno. Clem's excited, so..."

"She is," James nods. "You're happy for her?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Your support is important to her."

"...Whatever."

Another thing James has come to notice: Mitch doesn't like to let off like he cares. Which is curious, indeed.

He also realizes that they're actually holding a conversation rather than just sharing a few words here and there, which is exciting. So, he decides to try pushing, just a bit.

"I think it's wonderful," he says quietly. "It brings hope. Proves that love can still exist."

Mitch scoffs. "Don't need a wedding to prove that."

"Maybe not, but if that's how they want to express it, why not let them?"

"Not saying they can't," Mitch frowns. "Just saying it don't mean much these days. Really, what changes? Now they get to call each other husband and wife? You can do that without the big wedding."

"You seem very opposed to this for someone who's been helping out so much."

"Well, that- I just- uh." His hands hesitate as if forgetting what they're working on. He pulls back, brows knitted and mouth frowning. "I'm not opposed."

Something strange occurs in his mind, something he's almost afraid to ask. James bites his tongue, figuring the question may make Mitch defensive or hostile.

"Lemme put it this way," Mitch finally says. "Just 'cause it's not something I'd ever do, don't mean that I'm not gonna help them out any way I can, okay? I mean, if anyone's gonna survive all this bullshit and get their 'happy ending,' or whatever, it'd be them, even if it's a huge fucking risk. So, give it to 'em, y'know? That answer your question?"

In a way, it does, but...

"Risk?"

"Either one of them could die at any time, same for any of us."

"Yes."

"And doing this, falling in love and getting married'll only make it hurt worse."

"You'd never get married?"

"No."

"Not even if you fell in love?"

"Pfft," he scoffs.

"What?"

Now, Mitch almost looks amused. "And who exactly am I gonna fall in love with?" he almost asks sarcastically, rhetorically, but James decides to take it as a serious question, pondering on an answer.

"I don't know. Perhaps Ruby?"

Like that, all amusement is gone when Mitch scrunches up his nose and shoots James a distasteful look. "Ruby? Are you fucking serious?"

James is a little offended at his tone."Why not? She's very sweet."

"And bossy, nosy, loud, and she's always throwing stuff at me, or threatening to hit me with wooden spoons. And she has a hissy-fit whenever I try to go to the greenhouse."

"She's also got a big heart, and she's very pretty."

Mitch says nothing to that.

"Don't you think?"

"Dude, I dunno. I don't look at her like that."

Well, he supposes that's fair. While he can't say he approves of Mitch's choice of words regarding the girl, he's understanding that the feelings just aren't there.

"I don't want that shit, anyway."

"Excuse me?" James frowns deeply.

"No- fuck, I'm not talking about Ruby. I mean that gross love shit in general."

"Oh."

Well, that's somewhat of a relief.

Mitch goes back to work on the lights, flipping the switch to the battery. The glow is back as they turn on. Without any enthusiastic words, he turns them off and grabs the next box.

As he's pulling the lights out, he mumbles, "I just don't think it's worth it. Not for me, anyway."

"What?"

"Love like that."

James' curiosity is piqued. "How so?"

Mitch doesn't answer right away, and James gets the feeling that he's debating on whether or not he really wants to. But, as he's detangling the lights, he says, "You weren't here when we first lost the twins."

James holds the light up again, listening.

Mitch sighs. "Y'know, Minnie? The one who was on the delta? She tried to fuck us over?"

"Clementine told me about her, yes."

"Back before- like, years before Clementine and AJ got here, she and Violet had a thing."

Then, strangely, as he's saying the words, he watches James as if looking for something. A change in his expression, a reaction of some sort. Of what kind, he's not sure.

"I mean, they got together. As a couple. Girlfriends."

"Right, that's what Clem said. Then, Minerva and Sophie got kidnapped."

"...Right. Yeah, uh, so," Mitch puts the lights down. "Um, they were really into each other. And, after Marlon told us the twins died, Violet shut down."

"She was heartbroken."

"Fuck, more than that. She was fucking destroyed. Not even Louis could cheer her up for the longest time. It got better after a while, but she never did herself any favors. Everything was always, 'Minnie used to do this,' or 'Minnie would've liked that,' or whatever else. It was..." Mitch shakes his head. "...fucking pathetic."

"That's-" James finds a swell of agitation forming in his gut. "That's terrible to say."

"But, it's true," Mitch argues. "She's worse now, too. I didn't think that was possible, but yeah, ever since the delta Violet's just been nothing but a real bi-"

"Mitch," James warns.

"Fuck," he closes his eyes, "Yeah, I know. But it doesn't change the fact that she should just get over it. Minnie died a long time ago. That bitch on the boat? That wasn't her."

"You weren't there-"

"I didn't need to be," Mitch scowls. "I know all about it. Violet betrayed us because she couldn't get over the dead girl she fell in love with. And it's not Clementine's fault, none of it is, so she shouldn't still be so pissed. Whatever those assholes did to them couldn't have been that bad. They all came back in one piece."

James is glaring now, he's sure.

Mitch notices.

"Do you truly believe that nothing happened to them?"

"They're alive, aren't they?"

"And you think losing someone you love is that easy to get over? You've never had those feelings for anyone, have you?"

Something strange dances in Mitch's eyes, his glare wavering ever so slightly. He jerks himself to face forward, breaking the eye contact they held.

"...No."

"I see," James nods. "Explains why you don't understand. What it's like to lose someone you're romantically involved with, I mean."

"What's there to understand?" Mitch forces out stiffly. "It's like losing anyone close to you. It sucks for a while and then you get over it. Life goes on."

They're silent, tense.

This certainly wasn't where James wanted to steer the conversation, and now he's not entirely sure how he feels about the boy beside him. For someone who did indeed have genuine kindness in him, he spoke so heartlessly, so ignorantly.

"Do you think Clementine and Louis are doomed to that sort of fate?"

"Like I said, if anyone's gonna survive, it's them. But, yeah, eventually one of them will die, it'll hurt, and then they'll either shut down or move on"

Another period of uncomfortable silence fills the air between them. James shifts the flashlight to his other hand after his arm's cramped up from holding it too tightly.

"I'm never gonna be like that," Mitch finally says. "I'm not gonna let myself be like Violet. I'm not taking the risk."

"You think you can help that?"

"Yeah," he says firmly. "I'm not... built that way."

Even through his agitation, he finds that to be an odd thing to say.

He thinks back on Mitch's words, his attitude towards the topic of their conversation. James finds his heart slow, but hard and heavy. Something builds up inside of him when he turns to peer through the darkness at Mitch's sullen face. He finds that he wants to make Mitch understand, see this conversation in a new light.

He makes a decision and reaches into his pocket.

"Can I show you something?"

Mitch doesn't physically react, but his eyes dart towards him, his expression unreadable.

Still, even without an answer, James pulls out the photo still stuck in the plastic holder. He places it on the table between them, watching Mitch as he does.

Mitch blinks down at the photo before turning to face him again, waiting for an explanation.

"This is me," James says, pointing at the younger, smiling version of himself before sliding his finger over, "and this is Charlie."

Mitch follows, listening.

"He-" Already, James has to correct himself before even speaking the words, "-was my boyfriend."

Immediately, Mitch freezes, eyes growing wide and lips parting in a silent gasp. His fists, still wrapped around the lights, tighten.

A little thrown off by such a visible reaction, he continues, nonetheless.

"We survived together, just the two of us, for a long time. Eventually, we joined the Whisperers in order to stay alive and... everything got worse from there. He wasn't the Charlie I fell in love with anymore, but I kept holding on to him, telling myself that it's okay because I've changed, too. Those people... us- we..."

James swallows thickly, his eyes falling shut.

"...I left, and I don't know what became of him. He could still be alive out there, or he could be dead. I don't know. But, losing him, the real him, was one of the most painful things I've ever experienced and it wasn't some that I could just 'get over.' It's an easy thing to say, but what it comes down to it, it's not something that'll ever go away. I'll never 'get over' Charlie, just like how Violet will never 'get over' Minerva. So, what you're saying is foolish, sprouted from ignorance."

Mitch is silent, unmoving, still staring at the photo.

"Talking like that will only do more damage than good-"

"You- you need to leave."

The words are harsh but bitten back, like they're trying to hide something true, something dark.

"What-?"

"I'll finish by myself." Mitch snatches the flashlight away from him. "Just... fucking go."

A sharp blade of ice seemingly swipes through him, leaving him staggered. An ache, all too familiar, tightens his heart and drops to his gut at the coldness of Mitch's tone, his eagerness to get rid of him.

And that rejection, one he's no stranger to, cuts deep, tender and painful.

Silently, pitifully, James takes his photo and pockets in, gaze falling to the floor. The stool scrapes against the uneven floor, breaking the silence with an eery wince. Mitch doesn't look at him, he doesn't say anything, he just continues to stare forward without any acknowledgment, as if he and James hadn't just shared the personal conversation that they did.

As he's treading up the stairs, James takes note of what else he noticed about Mitch.

He undoubtedly knew how to be cruel.

---

Aasim's room is much different than Louis remembers.

It's freshly picked up with books stacked neatly along the shelves of a short bookcase. His desk is clean with a can of dull pencils and pens resting upon it. There's an astronomy poster hanging above his bed, one Louis remembers being in the old science lab. The other bed, Louis' bed for the night, is where Aasim seems to keep all his spare clothes folded, as well as some of the larger books that won't fit on his shelf.

Aasim's quick to move everything off the bed for him, tucking things in drawers and his closet.

Louis tosses his pillows onto the mattress and plops down with a huff.

"Dude, I still have to write my vows."

"Always waiting 'til the last minute," Aasim mumbles. "Here." He pulls out the chair of his desk and begins filing through one of the drawers. "Where-ah." He sets a notebook down on the desk before moving to his bed. "You can work on it there."

"Thanks, man."

Tossing the pillows aside, Louis sits down, lights the candle placed in the corner, and tries to find a sharp enough pencil to write with. He plucks a blue one with little cartoon cats on it out of the can. He can't believe he's about to write his wedding vows for the woman he loves with this, but it's a little better than the one that says 'SAY NO TO DRUGS! SAY NO TO DRUGS!'

A little.

"You nervous?" Aasim asks while kicking off his boots.

"Like I'm gonna vomit," Louis answers honestly.

He chuckles a little at that. "You're not gonna vomit."

"What if I'm standing up there, giving my amazingly romantic vows and I just throw up and then that makes her throw up? Then, you'll definitely throw up because you have a weak stomach and then Ruby'll be so pissed that she throws up and then there's just puke everywhere-"

"Dude," Aasim grabs a pillow to smack him with, "Stop. You're only digging yourself deeper into that nightmare hole. Climb out."

"I'm just saying."

"You won't throw up. You're just nervous."

"Oh, is that what this feeling is? And here I thought I caught a stomach bug."

Aasim rolls his eyes. "It's okay to be to have pre-wedding jitters. Before you know it, tomorrow'll be here and you and Clem will be married and dancing."

"And you'll be dancing with Ruby?"

"No."

"Right! Sorry, I meant James-"

"Louis," Aasim warns. "I already told you, I never had a thing for James. Drop it."

"Yeah, yeah," Louis waves his hand. "I know. I promised Clem I wouldn't tease you so much tonight. I'll drop it for now." Then, he points at the bed. "You don't have to wait up for me. I'll probably just say here all night trying to figure out what to say."

"Say what you feel."

"Oh, just like that, huh?"

"Seriously. It doesn't have to be long or poetic. Keep it short and sweet."

"Short and sweet," mumbles Louis. "Yeah, okay."

Aasim doesn't say anything else. Instead, he grabs a book off his shelf and lays down in his bed to read.

Louis briefly wonders if that's what he does every night, but doesn't bother asking. He has more important things to think about.

The blank page is intimidating, so Louis jots down his thoughts as they come to him. He crosses out ones that he doesn't like and makes little notes and adds onto the ones he does.

Eventually, he hears Aasim yawn and shut the book. He grumbles a "good-night" before turning over with a sigh.

His weariness catches up with him hours into the night as he tries and tries again to write his vows. He doesn't know how many pages he goes through re-wording and rewriting it, but with every sentence, he finds his eyes dropping and his limbs becoming heavier.

Soon, after nearly finishing what he had to say, his cheek rests against the notebook as sleep takes him.

---

She can hear Ruby's delighted giggles, muffled by the door. The wood creaks, wincing beneath her as she shifts her weight from foot to foot.

Violet can't distinguish what they're actually saying. How could she? All she can hear is the pulsating beat of her heart thumping in her ears, heavy but accelerating the longer she stares at the door.

No matter what she does, no matter how much she tightens her fists, Violet's hands won't stop shaking. The tremors run up her arms and down her legs, nearly buckling her knees, but she refuses to collapse. They would certainly hear and find her pathetically curled up into a ball at their feet.

Violet squeezes her eyes shut, forcing herself to breathe in deep through her nose.

Raising her fist up only sends more trembles down her arm, weakening her down to the bone. Her palms ache from the sharp nails bitten into the tender flesh, leaving a sore redness and imprints ready to split.

Get over yourself.

Just knock on the fucking door.

More giggling.

Clementine's voice.

So pleased, so light.

Her chin quivers, so she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. She doesn't know what's louder; her short, gasping breaths, or the pounding of her searing heart.

Louis asks her for one thing. One fucking thing.

And she can't.

She can't do it.

Her arm falls weakly back to her side, defeated and piteous.

What did she expect, really?

To knock on the door and be invited in with welcome arms? To sit down with Clementine and Ruby and fawn over what Clementine would wear to her wedding? To talk about how much she fucking loved Louis and how she can't wait to start a new chapter of their lives together? To pretend that everything's okay between them and they're best friends again? That the forgiveness is mutual?

And Clementine would ask her to be her maid-of-honor and to hold her bouquet for her as she and Louis swear their vows to each other and kiss and live their happily ever after in this shithole of a world?

...She can't do it.

She just can't.

---

Clementine hadn't ever changed her clothes so many times in one night. None of the dresses Ruby had gathered up fit her, all way too small. They had better luck trying on blouses ranging from ones with lots of ruffles to plain t-shirts that wore long on her.

"Whatta 'bout this one?"

Ruby holds up a baby blue one with short sleeves and lace at the bottom. When Clementine pulls it on, it fits well.

"Oh, that's sweet," Ruby admires. "It'd count fer yer somethin' blue, too."

They add it to the 'yes' pile.

Over their time together, a total of four shirts end up in that pile. She decides that she'll make her final decision tomorrow since it's getting late.

They end up closing the window when the night breeze comes in particularly cold, saying their goodnights with Clementine alone in her bed and Ruby on the top bunk opposite of her.

Absently, her hand reaches out beside her. The bed feels much bigger than it usually does. She has so much room to spread herself out comfortably but still ends up on her usual side.

She can't help it. She misses him and his warmth beside her.

On any other normal night, after spending the day apart, one of them would creep into the room and get in bed and they'd be together again, ready to cuddle and sleep. Now, it feels like she's taken that for granted.

Perhaps this is good, she thinks. Like the old saying goes, distance makes the heart grow fonder.

How she could grow fonder of Louis, she didn't know.

She lays there a long time, her mind buzzing with the excitement of what's to come, as well as thinking what the future may hold, good and bad. Though, she tries not to dwell on the bad. Most of her life had been spent dwelling on threats and concerns.

Now, she gets to experience something like this, like it wasn't the end of the world.

So, she pushes all those dark thoughts, the ones of death, of Violet's hatred, of Louis' guilt, AJ's traumas, all out of her mind and images herself seeing Louis waiting for her in the music room... ready to take her hand.

Clementine's eyes fall shut, this time, remaining that way. She tries to calm her nerves, allowing her own exhaustion to wash over her, relax her body. She tries to think of nothing, tries counting sheep.

Eventually, sleep takes her.

---

The trees all look the same, flashing by one after the other in a blur of desaturated greys and browns. The grass is tall, much more overgrown than it usually is. If Clementine were to stretch her leg out it surely would tickle her ankles and feet. Leaves of various hues swirl around in the air as if dancing together.

The constant hum of the train's wheels running on the track is soothing. It vibrates through her body as she rests against the frame opening. Her legs swing relaxed as her fingers absently drum on her knee.

Clementine closes her eyes and breathes in the scent of wood and sun-dried grass. She doesn't fight the tranquil smile tugging at her lips. Strips of sunlight leak through the cracks between the trees, warming her cheeks as they pass.

"Something big is happening, isn't it?"

Her smile grows.

Lee sits down beside her, shifting to get comfortable.

"Been a long time," he says. "I was starting to think you forgot about me."

Clementine peeks an eye open to peer at him. "You?" She shakes her head. "Never."

He quirks a brow with a matching grin. Clementine scoots away from the frame and closer to the man beside her. He wraps a comforting arm around her shoulders as the two watch the nature fly by.

She can't contain the glee growing inside of her as she looks up at him.

"You're never going to believe it, Lee."

Lee chuckles. He admires the abundance of trees and falling leaves. He reaches out and snatches a large, yellow one. He pinches and twirls it's stem between his fingers as he asks, "It's a good thing?"

"A very good thing."

"Don't hear very many good things these days," he says. He catches another fallen leaf, sticking it with the yellow one. "Don't see very many smiles like that, either."

Clementine lightly touches her cheek, sore from the straining grin. Her skin is warm, flustered.

Lee catches more leaves, sticking and rearranging them together. "So, what's made you so happy, Sweet Pea?"

"I'm getting married."

Lee's brows raise in shock. "Married?" he asks. "Little young for that, aren't you?"

"In this world?" she smirks. "I don't think I'm too young for a lot of things."

Lee scoffs. "Oh, yes you are."

Clementine laughs, a sweet melody that warms the air. She leans closer into him as a red leaf gets stuck against her leg. She plucks it up and admires its vivid color.

"Married..." Lee mumbles to himself. "Wow. How did you get so grown up?"

"I didn't really have a choice." She lets the leaf go. It flies out and disappears with the rest.

"No, you didn't..." Lee nods to himself. "It's Louis, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"He's a good kid."

"He's..." Clementine laughs. "He's amazing, Lee. You'd really like him."

He nods, thoughtfully. "Well," he says, "I can't hate anybody who can make you smile like that. And AJ likes him?"

"AJ loves him."

"Good," Lee grins. "That's good to hear. The two of them are quite a pair, I assume?"

"You have no idea."

Lee chuckles. "And, everyone else?"

"They've worked so hard on the music room," she tells him. "Ruby, Tenn, and AJ have been decorating all week, and Mitch made our rings. He made them, him and Willy! Out of quarters! And Aasim, he's going to marry us, and Omar's going to cook and-" Clementine stops.

Something strange curls in her gut. A tingle runs along her neck.

"What's wrong?" Lee asks.

"I..." she closes her eyes and rests her head against his shoulder, "I just... I am happy, Lee. So happy and excited, but," she weakly shakes her head, "what if something happens?"

"Like what?"

"This kind of happiness, it-it doesn't last in our world anymore. It's never lasted for me, at least." The air becomes cooler, raising goosebumps along her skin. "Sometimes, I think that life at the school, with Louis and AJ and everyone else, is just too good to be true. We're happy now, but what if that changes? What if something happens and we lose more people? What if... what if something bad happens between Louis and me?"

"What if, what if..." Lee gives her a comforting smile. "You'll drive yourself crazy if all you think about are the 'what ifs'. You can't predict everything that's coming, just like how you can't go back and prevent the past."

"I know. It's just," she murmurs, "I can't help but think about Louis looking at me one day and thinking about all the terrible things I've done and... realizing that he can't love someone like me."

Lee's silent.

Then, he hands her a leaf, a green one.

"You really believe that?"

She doesn't answer.

"Tell me something, Clementine," he says. "Louis has done bad things, hasn't he? Both before and after the world ended?"

"Yes."

"Do you hate him for those things?"

"No," she shakes her head. "It's different. His bad things don't compare to mine. I've hurt so many people, Lee. Good people. Just so that I could survive, or to protect AJ, protect both of us."

"Does Louis know of these things?"

"Not all of them."

Lee goes quiet again. He closes his eyes and lowers his head.

"Do you remember when I told you about what I did? Why I was in the police car the day we first met?"

"Yes."

"Did you hate me? After you found out?"

"Of course not."

Lee smiles, just a bit. "I did a lot of bad things, too, Sweet Pea. We've all done bad things; you, me, AJ, Louis... it's this world that makes us do things we never would've done before."

She reaches out and grabs his hand. "It scares me," her voice is barely above a murmur, "I don't want him to look at me like-" she swallows thickly, "-like Violet does."

"Violet's different," he says. "She's still in a lot of pain, just like Louis. Like you. We all handle it differently, whether it's keeping it bottled up, covering it with a smile and a laugh, or hiding away from everyone. But, just because you see their pain doesn't mean you understand it. How many nights have you had to hold Louis because of his nightmares? And, how often do you wonder why? Why does it still haunt him?"

"He didn't mean to kill that lady," she says. "But, he was also justified. She would've killed him if he didn't react."

"He doesn't see it that way, though, does he? It's something that you may never come to understand, Clementine. Just like how you may never fully understand why Violet feels the way she does. Or, why AJ gets spooked so easily when someone comes up behind him. But, that doesn't mean you give up on them." Lee hands her another leaf, this one red. "You still stay by their side, even when everything goes to hell. That's what family does."

Family...

"I don't know what I would do without them," she says. "I wish I could make it better. Take all that pain away."

"Can't tell you how many times I thought the same thing," Lee grins. "It's a tough world, but you're tougher and smarter. You'll always have AJ there by your side. And maybe one day Violet will open herself up again and you two can rebuild that trust. It'll be a rough and slow process, but maybe you'll even be friends again. As for Louis?" Lee chuckles, shaking his head. "That boy isn't going anywhere."

Clementine looks up at him.

"How can you be so sure?" she asks.

Lee turns his focus to the collection of leaves in his hand.

"Relationships aren't easy," he says slowly. "They never were, even before."

"I know."

"Both of you have a lot to carry. There'll always be that unknown territory between you. Whether you choose to explore it or leave it alone is up to you. You'll have bad days, and so will he. There'll be times where you two fight for little to no reason, times where you could just strangle him. A time may come where you're in trouble again, where you might get hurt or separated, lose someone else."

The green and red bleed out of her leaves, leaving them yellow. He plucks them from her fingers and adds to his collection.

"But, everything Mitch said before?" Lee squeezes her hand. "It's all true. After all you two have been through? There isn't a doubt in my mind that you will overcome anything this world throws at you."

Her eyes burn.

"That boy loves and trusts you, Clementine, and he's not going to leave you. It's okay to believe that."

The forest blurs.

"Thank you, Lee," she whispers.

Lee leans forward and waves his free hand like he's signaling someone. As the train whistles and comes to a stop, he grabs her shoulder to steady her. The forest is still before them and the grass is at its longest.

He hops down and offers her his hand.

"It's time, Sweet Pea."

She gives him a questioning look that he answers with a smile.

He helps her down. She's unsteady on her feet. The humming of the train still rattles through her body, buzzing in her ears. When she turns to Lee, lips parted and a question laying on her tongue, she's startled to find his usual blue shirt has been replaced.

He chuckles again with a shrug. "I used to clean up nice, you know."

His black suit is clean, untouched, untainted. His tie is perfectly straight and he's cleanly shaven. The multicolored leaves previously in his grasp are gone, replaced with a bouquet of yellow roses tied together by a white ribbon. His dark eyes soften when they lay upon her.

"Oh, just look at you..." he whispers.

Clementine cocks her head to the side, giving him a questioning look. He extends the bouquet to her, and when she grasps it, her gaze falls down to her sleeve.

White lace.

She glances down and gasps.

The dress is pure white. Beautiful lace and glittering details line her torso and fade down the silky material. Her hat is gone, allowing her curls to hang loosely over her shoulders. She runs her fingertips cautiously over the lustrous dress in disbelief. The silk glistens when the speckles of sunlight shine through the trees and hit her.

She meets Lee's warm, proud gaze. He offers her his arm.

"Ready?"

With a shaky breath, she grabs a hold of him.

They leave the train to walk through the forest at a comfortable pace. The leaves continue to fall around them. However, they've all turned that lovely shade of yellow.

"Lee?"

"Hm?"

Her grip on his arm tightens. "I wish you were really here."

He places his hand over hers.

"You're not supposed to cry those kinds of tears on your wedding day."

She doesn't even realize that she's crying until he says so. She wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand, careful not to poke herself with the roses or their stems.

"Oh, Clementine," Lee sighs. "I know it's hard, but look around you. You've found a place to call home, a family. I always wanted that for you, hoped you'd find it even after I left. Now, you finally have."

"But, you're still gone."

"I'm still gone," Lee nods. "And you're still alive."

The trees are starting to spread out more, making the path clearer. The grass has gone from long and dry to short, thick and dark green. The air's sweetly floral. Still, the leaves fall.

"You're alive, Clementine," he says again.

There's chatter, whispers. A hum of several voices, all cheerful, some laughing. The closer they walk, the louder they become.

And, behind all those voices, is the playing of a piano.

Her song.

Clementine.

Her heart beats hard, slow. Somehow, her throat's gone dry.

Lee gazes about, admiring the beauty surrounding them.

Soon, there's a gate ahead of them, stuck between two enormous trees. Thorny vines weave through the bars where more yellow roses sprout.

They stop just before it.

"Are you ready?" he asks.

She peeks through the openings of the gate.

Rows and row of white benches line the grass leading up to a set of white stairs. At the top is a stage with an arbor covered in dark green leaves and vibrant yellow roses. Off to the right is a grand piano that, oddly enough, has no one playing it, yet the keys play her song. On the left are several tables, all with white tablecloths and candles and roses as centerpieces. There's a long table filled with various desserts and a five-tier cake.

The benches are full of people, all talking with one another, all dressed in various hues of yellow.

When Lee pushes the gate open and they step through, the chatter immediately stops.

The piano goes quiet.

It's silent.

All together, they stand and turn.

Every single smiling face, she recognizes.

Her breath catches in her throat, and her eyes dart across the overwhelming rows of people rapidly. Her grip on the bouquet and Lee's arm tighten.

"Lee?" she gasps out.

"It's your special day," he grins. "Did you really think they'd miss it?"

The sun shines brightly through the trees now, lighting up the area, breathing life into it. The warmth pools in her belly and spreads through her veins. All eyes, all full of admiration and tenderness, are on her.

Lee steps forward, and by instinct, so does she. Her song begins to play again, faint, like a soft whisper. Down the aisle, they tread slowly. Her eyes dart from face to face, overwhelmed.

So many of them, all smiling at her; those from her previous groups, friends from before the world ended, mere acquaintances made during survival.

Luke and Nick stand side by side whispering to each other before Jane shushes them, motioning towards Clementine. She almost trips upon seeing them. All together, they proudly watch her walk past.

Sarah's practically jumping with glee, happily waving at Clementine and trying to catch her attention. Carlos places his hands on her shoulders in an attempt to keep his daughter still.

A lump forms in her throat.

She gasps at Christa and the baby in her arms. Omid beams, mouthing, 'Good luck!'

Duck waves at her with a smile far too big for his face. Katjaa wipes at her eyes with a tissue, sniffling. And Kenny, he reaches out to briefly touch her shoulder with a fond grin and a tender nod at her, then at Lee. His touch leaves a warmth that spreads down her arm. Her eyes become wet seeing the three of them holding each other again.

The Garcia's all take up one row with Javier standing the closest. He winks at her with a smirk, giving her a thumbs up. Clementine rolls her eyes at him playfully. Kate nudges Gabe and he shyly meets her gaze with a smile. David offers a solemn nod, but even he can't fight the tiny grin pulling at his lips.

She slows her walk to almost a stop when she sees Rebecca and Alvin. They both reach out to her and grasp her arm. 'Thank you,' they mouth. 'Thank you.' Clementine shakes her head, biting her lip to prevent her chin from quivering. Rebecca reaches around her and puts their foreheads together. 'Thank you.'

They let go, and Clementine continues down the aisle.

Lee chuckles again. He pats the hand on his arm and smiles at her. "It's crazy, isn't it?"

"That's-" She gives a heart filled laugh, sniffling and blinking back tears. "That's one way to put it." She looks up towards the sky where all the leaves still flutter and dance, swaying with the music. Her eyes fall upon the altar, and a wave of emotion rolls over her.

They're all there, lining up on either side of the steps.

Marlon, Mitch, Aasim, Omar, Tenn, James and Willy on the right.

Ruby, Brody, Sophie, Minerva, and Violet on the left.

All waiting for her to reach the stairs, all dressed in their respective matching suits and dresses.

She's ready to move forward, but Lee stops her. She turns to him, but he motions to her left.

And it's like all the air is knocked from her lungs and her heart's swelled fully in her chest.

Her mother and father stare back at her with tears in their eyes.

Lee lets her go.

Clementine rushes to them, throwing her arms over her mother's shoulders and holding on for dear life. She can't do anything but sob. Her father wraps himself around both of them. There's so much warmth surrounding her and it's hard to breathe. The rush of emotions is so overwhelming she thought they might cause her to implode, cease to exist.

When they pull away, her father's thumb wipes away her tears. And she laughs. She laughs and she cries. They say nothing, they only gaze upon her with love in their eyes. Her mother kisses both of her cheeks and holds her hands firmly, kissing them as well.

Words bubble in Clementine's throat, but refuse to come out. There's so much to say, so much she wants to tell them. But, they shake their heads and move back to their seats.

'It's time...'

Her mother and father turn their attention to Lee as he offers her his arm again. The gratitude, the affection they have for him is clear. Lee humbly gives a knowing nod.

She keeps her eyes locked with them, looking back even as they move forward. She can feel herself trembling, as if she may crumble if it weren't for Lee's hold keeping her together.

Violet steps down from her place on the stairs and catches Clementine's attention. She takes the bouquet from her, then she pulls her into a loving hug. Clementine melts into her, holding her back tightly. "Vi..."

They part with a smile, and Violet goes back to stand with Minerva, where they pull the ribbon off and pass around the roses, making sure everyone has one in their hands.

There's a giggle from the top of the stairs.

They turn to see AJ. He's dressed in his own suit with a yellow rose adorning it. He gleefully strides down the stairs in a hurry, jumping off the third to final step. He leaps at Clementine, holding her in a firm embrace.

AJ admires the glittering details of her dress before leaning over to wave at his mother and father. Clementine looks back, seeing both Rebecca and Alvin waving and tearfully laughing.

Lee lets go of Clementine to kneel down and fix AJ's twisted bowtie, earning another giggle from the young boy. Lee pinches his nose.

"Hey!" AJ laughs. He retaliates by pinching Lee back. That gets him a chuckle.

Clementine's lips curl into a warm smile as she watches the two laugh and hug one another.

There's something at the top of her peripheral sight. A small movement, just enough to catch her attention.

Louis stands at the top with a bright smile and when their eyes meet, everything stops; the leaves, the faraway murmuring, the piano. Nothing but a small, shuddering gasp escaping her lips.

His suit matches AJ's; black with a pale yellow tie and adorned with a rose. He ascends down the stairs one step at a time, never breaking their connected gaze, never losing his smile. The way he looks at her with so much love, like he can't get enough of her, takes away any lingering breath she has.

She steps forward to meet him as he moves off the final step. He reaches for her, and when their fingers curl together, it's like the sun lighting up within her.

Louis only breaks his loving gaze away to look at Lee as he approaches, his smile becoming a little nervous.

Lee eyes him, then he holds out his hand. Louis accepts it with great enthusiasm, giving him a firm handshake. But, Lee doesn't let go. Instead, he pulls him in for a tight hug, which Louis eagerly returns.

Lee, his expression calmed and content, turns back to Clementine.

"Good-bye, Sweet Pea."

Then, they're hugging again. She buries her face into his chest and does her best to contain the sobs forming threatening to spill over. "Good-bye, Lee..." she whispers.

She pulls away when AJ tugs on her dress.

She watches as Lee walks away, as he takes a seat next to her parents and gives her an encouraging smile.

"It's time."

When she turns back to Louis, he laces their fingers together once more while AJ grabs her other hand.

And together, they ascend up the stairs, hand in hand.

When they reach the top, AJ wanders away.

Now, Louis holds both her hands in his, and as she stares up at him, she can't help but lightly shake her head in disbelief.

"Louis..." she murmurs.

"Clementine." He pulls her closer until they're only breaths away. She can feel the warmth radiating off his entire being, soaking into her.

AJ approaches them again carrying a yellow silk pillow, and on it is the rings. Silver, freshly polished, and baring their initials.

C + L

Louis takes one and slips it onto her finger, and she does the same for him.

He cups her blushing cheeks.

"I do."

She feels her eyes fluttering shut.

"I do."

He kisses her.

And the world ceases to exist.

---

#twdg #twdg fanfiction #twdg fanfic #twdg louis #louis twdg #clementine twdg #twdg clementine #twdg mitch #twdg james #twdg ruby #twdg omar #twdg rosie #twdg tenn #twdg violet #twdg clouis #clouis #clouis twdg #louisentine #twdg louisentine #louisentine twdg #clementine x louis #louis x clementine #twdg aj

[xoxoendoh]

The Cherry Wood Armoire

Her hand froze before the mirror, just as she was about to paint across her Cupid’s bow. “You like my lips this color, Sasuke-kun?” she asked his rapt reflection, playing at scrutinizing the shade in her hand. The look on his face as he nodded his approval… She twisted the tube until the cherry pigment vanished, lowering the lipstick to the armoire: “Then come and make them red.”

Here I thought I could finally focus on updating Damned and Damask now that SasuSaku Month was over…. ;) Well, I tried to be a diligent little SasuSaku ff-writer…but my brain went to smut / skipped ahead like a dozen chapters of D&D…then I realized I was late for dinner and drinks…heard this song while out…and this is the result. ;) **This is a quickie / rough WIP (again, puns so intended) and hasn’t been edited!**

Prompt: lsdkfjlsdkfj… I have ADHD and can’t just simply update (where’s the fun in that??); got an anon ask for SasuSaku dirty talk; …and a belated SasuSaku Month Free Day! So there.

Rating: NC17 / so NSFW below the cut…like for real, though. **A bit (consensually!) rough.**

Read on FF.net here. 

Her hand froze just as she was about to paint across her Cupid’s bow.

She could see Sasuke intently observing her, her reflection from the bed. It was slow at first, but the mirror showed her that damn smirk as it spread across his face.

And she couldn’t help herself, not when he was sitting there half-naked with that cocky grin of his:

“You like my lips this color, Sasuke-kun?” she asked the mirror sweetly, playing at scrutinizing the shade in her hand.

The look on his face as he nodded his approval…

Sakura couldn’t stop the little gasp she let out at his hunger: she could taste his desire across the room; she could see it reflected in the silver. She showed him a licentious smile through the glass and twisted the tube until the vermilion pigment vanished, lowering the lipstick to the cherry wood of the armoire.

She could make him hard, make him wild-eyed with a subtle move of her body, with a simple string of words…. And it took her fucking breath away, the excitement. Her scarlet nails skidded across the polished wood, searching for something to take hold of.

Shakily, she inhaled as she stared into the mirror, into his dark eyes, never letting go of his gaze. With distinct purpose, making sure he saw her every move, she slowly replaced the lipstick’s cap and dropped it to the porcelain tray with the others.

She could see his eyes widen—slightly, barely—at her brazen challenge.

“Then come and make them red,” she breathed, sinking her teeth into the pink flesh she’d so nearly painted cherry.

Before her heart could beat, before she could find another way boil his blood, he had flashstepped behind her. All at once, she felt his heat: his right hand was ascending her throat, his left had landed firmly between legs to push her back into his arousal, to feel the evidence of her own beneath the lace. Sakura could see it all as it happened, and it was beautiful. Her teeth sunk further into her lip around her moan, as he jerked her hips into place, as he ground thoroughly against her. He parted her flimsy, floral robe and palmed her panties. A keen escaped the corner of her mouth as he slid over her clit. Eyes closing and legs spreading, she leaned flush against him, fully exposing her neck for his greedy hand, and dug her nails into the chest’s ornate border.

“Eyes open, Sakura,” he commanded, his other fingers finally playing at her jaw.

She obeyed and saw his long index finger run across the teeth she’d sunk into her bottom lip, already so red from the blood pooling under the pressure…. At the sight, she released her lip to moan loudly around the digit.

“Good girl,” he murmured to her hair, eyes half-lidded, and ground forcefully into her ass.

Her hands rose to stroke his forearm and clasp around his wrist. She kissed the tip and then along the length of his finger gently, slowly…. She ran a long lick over his knuckles, staring him down through the glass all the while. At the shuddering exhale she felt against her crown, she sucked the digit into her mouth, each of his nerve endings coming alive with the graze of her teeth against his skin.

In an instant, he’d retracted his hand from her grip and wound it in her hair, yanking her head to his opposite shoulder, the stinging pain mingling with the pleasure of his teasing touches between her legs.

He tch-ed and shook his head, eyes leaving the mirror to admire the arc of her neck on his skin, the way her tendons strained against his hold…. “Did I tell you to open your pretty mouth?”

“No,” she whispered with a thrill, each word out of his mouth, each touch on stroke of his fingers making her wetter.

The hand in her hair tightened, the fingers tracing over her clit stilled.

“’No’ what?” he demanded.

“No, Sasuke,” she offered.

Even in her current position, she managed to say it so innocently, so sweetly.

Because she wanted to play rough.

It was all he could do to keep the smirk from his face as she let out a strained gasp, as he slowly twisted his fistful of pink tendrils—the lustrous hair she grew so long for him. Such a shame he couldn’t fully indulge her then…. But he’d make do; he knew how to make the minutes count.

“You know better than that, Sakura,” he admonished in a growl, bending lower to suck on her extended neck as he untied her robe.

She did. She knew exactly what she was doing. She wanted him riled up and insatiable and imperious. She wanted to push him…. She loved it when he lost control…but she loved it more when he took it back…. And she’d barely scratched the surface this morning.

His hand slid over her abdomen, inching back toward her lace, and he bit down on her earlobe. Hard. “Say it.”

With the mirror, she could see it all. The fine, palatial silk hanging useless and bunched at her elbows; the flush of her fair skin; his mark on her neck; the red of her lips parting to sound her pleasure; his large hands going where they pleased on her body, one firmly entrenched in her blush waves; the way he loomed so tall over her; the dark desires in his eyes reflected in her own… And she couldn’t take it anymore. She had neither the patience nor the time to waste.

“Please, Sasuke-kun…” she corrected.

“Good girl,” he praised, punctuating the compliment with a tug and lazy suck on her lobe.

He released her hair, combing his fingers to the very end of her rosy strands, and stood her up. A doll for his delights… He slid the robe down her arms and tossed it on the bed. The damn sight of her pale skin glowing in the hazy morning light… He closed the small distance he’d allowed to discard the silk, and the feeling of her bare skin on his as he leaned into her…. He groaned right in her ear as he palmed up her body with both hands, pausing to grope at her pert breasts, another sound of appreciation blending with her own. She jutted her hips back to reunite with his, to grind and sway against his hard cock.

They said it in unison: “Fuck…”

It was so good, but it wasn’t enough. She needed to feel him, skin on skin.

As his hands were literally full—tugging at the dusky pink of her nipples, glorying in the fullness of her breasts—Sakura made to sneak hers between their bodies, to slip into his loose pants and finally grasp his cock…. But he snatched up her wrists before she’d even touched cotton. He knew what she wanted, and he’d let her have it…but only on his terms.

She whined in frustration, glowering at him through the glass.

“You’re going to pay for this tonight, beautiful,” he warned, voice low and gravelly with lust, and bit the back of her neck. He rose to recapture her reflected eyes as he planted her hands on edge of the armoire, lacing their fingers. “Let go of the dresser or close your eyes, and you won’t come,” he instructed, watching her green glare dilate with his words. “Not now, …not tonight,” he promised in wicked coo, leaving her hands with a final, firm press to yank her panties down.

She moaned raggedly as the skimp of lace slid down her legs, as she spread for him, as he held her eyes through the mirror.

“Do you hear me, Sakura?”

He slid the waistband of his sweatpants down, hissing as the precum on his cock caught the cool air, and kicked them to the side. Running a few strokes over his length, he crouched some for the ideal angle and slid his head against her, reveling in her slick folds.

He ground out, “Do. You. Hear. Me.”

His tone left no room for debate.

“Yes, Sasuke-kun. Please,” she whimpered, eyes low on the mirror to watch him torment her, fighting the instinct to move—to fuck—as he barely pushed into her, as he teased the sensitized nerves at her entrance. He’d only prolong the sweet agony of anticipation if she tried anything now. “Please…” she begged.

Again, he wove his free hand into her soft locks and pulled until she raised her pretty face where he wanted it, until her verdant eyes found his in the mirror.

“You’re going to watch me fuck you.”

Her whimper turned into a breathy fuck as he groaned as he drove into her, inch by inch. As her eyes widened, as her florid lips fell open, as her creamy back curved concave, as her ruby nails dented and scuffed the antique…

“Please, Sasuke-kun!” she urged, unable to withstand his taunting. “Please.”

“Good girl…”

He could hear the cocksure smirk in voice, he watched it crook upward as he finally thrust himself fully inside her, wet and hot and tight around him.

She cried out something unintelligible.

He bent his spine to envelop her form, one hand still claiming her hair at her nape, the other twining with hers on the wood. He could feel the tendons in her fingers strain and extend as she pushed off the armoire to meet his cock as he drove into her, could see her breasts bounce with the impact.

“Fuck. Just like that, Sakura,” he rumbled against her cheek. “Just like that…”

But he could see her lips losing their feverish hue. They were still rosy and parted in arousal, but he wanted them red.

He slowed his rhythm and, guiding her by the ponytail he’d formed in one hand, he turned her face to the side. He angled her lips to connect with his as his other hand climbed up her arm to reach the column of her neck. But he stopped just before they touched…. Watching her long lashes lower over the aching jade of her eyes, tasting her wanton moan in the air between them, feeling her hair grow taut in his hand as she tried to reach him—savoring her eagerness to kiss him while he moved inside her…

“You can close your eyes now,” he murmured, “but remember, Sakura: keep your hands where they are, or”—his threat was a whisper on her parted lips, each word punctuated with a forceful snap of his hips into hers—“You. Won’t. Come.”

Finally, he claimed her mouth as she cried into him.

She clawed at the cherry wood beneath her, determined not to lose her grip. Even as his teeth pulled her bottom lip into his mouth. Even as he sucked and swallowed her moan. Even as his tongue pushed against hers in time with his teasing, shallow thrusts. Even as he groaned his pleasure into her.

Without warning, he released her lips and turned her stunned face to the mirror. He let go of her neck and hair in favor of pinning her hands in place with his. He let go of his mocking pace in favor of pounding into her—finally fucking her.

“S-Sasuke-kun!”

It was all she could do to keep her eyes open against the blazing fire he was stoking within her. She could feel it spreading down her limbs, threatening to curl her toes and spine. She blinked around a shaky whimper, and then his dark eyes were spinning sanguine—predatory and blood-red—boring through his reflection and into hers. He was close, too, and he was daring her to close her eyes, to fail to appreciate the pornographic display in the mirror—to disobey. He bent to nibble on the neck she so prettily arched into shoulder, Sharingan memorizing and mesmerizing.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she chanted. “Please, don’t stop!”

She could feel her orgasm rising with the morning sun, hot and inevitable. Every sinewy muscle in her body was constricting under him, around him. Taut coils ready to spring…

Then he stopped—everything.

She whined, wordless in frustration, and ground into him. At her defiance, she felt an adamant yank on her hair. When had his hands left hers?

“Put it on, Sakura,” he ordered.

“Wha...?” She was confused by the command, brain steaming with lust and thwarted pleasure, pink head nearly lolling in his grip.

Impatient, he pried the fingers of her right hand from the edge of the dresser. Their sweaty skin squeaked against the lacquered cherry wood as he dragged her hand to the long-forgotten lipstick.

Oh, dirty boy… Despite herself, she couldn’t help the salacious grin that fell on her face.

“Now.”

She felt a fresh lick of the flames, felt herself tighten around his cock at the sound of his command and uncapped the maquillage. She felt more than the saw his Sharingan devour her movement. Leering at her, he nodded, all virile pride. As she touched the creamy cherry-red to her flushed lower lip, she felt him twitch inside her, barely keeping her grip on the cool chrome. She drew it slowly, so slowly over the full crescent he’d bitten red, and her eyes widened in disbelief. 

She heard a haughty heh behind her.

No wonder he loves it…!

The color was a perfect match. If not for the shine, it would have been seamless against her kiss-swollen lips.

“Finish,” he taunted as he cupped her chin, outlining her painted bottom lip with his thumb, “and I’ll let you finish.”

“Fuck,” she whined, struggling to keep her hand steady as she traced her upper lip. Finally, she pursed her glossy lips with a pop, batting her dark lashes at him.

His large hands rose to remove the lid and tube from hers, carefully rejoining them and placing the complete lipstick on the armoire.

“Fucking beautiful…” was all the warning she had before he had her pinned to that cherry wood armoire once more.

I’m late for yet another dinner ‘cause of this little one shot! Lol. 

Thank you for reading! That reblog/comment/review button is actually the “validate button”—so remember to hit it if you liked it! ;) 

One more note: This will likely end up quite different in D&D, probably much darker 'cause, ya know, that's the fic. ;)

@thepiestperson, thanks for the summary selection. 👌🏻 You da bomb.

“Not So Pure Endoh” strikes again @ladywithpurplehair @pain-somnia​

My other SSM18 submissions:

☀ No content warning: Gravitation, Day 2: Side by Side | Close to Lost, Day 4: Burn

☾ Barely NSFW:

Umbra, Day 11: Eclipse

☾ More smut, different Uchiha: Gratitude and Gratification, explicit ItaSaku

If you’re interested, you can read my other SasuSaku and ItaSaku work on FF.net or my fic-only blog!

#SasuSaku #Sasuke #Sakura #Uchiha #SSM18 #Sasuke Uchiha #Sakura Haruno #Smut #EndohWrites #Damned and Damask #ssfanfiction #SasuSaku smut #WIP #ssm18d31 #EndohWritesSmut #Dirty talk #Will add more tags laterrr #fanfic #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku fanfic #fanfiction #request #anon request #Naruto

[itsblissfuloblivion]

Kindle - Chapter 2

A/N: WOO we’ve reached chapter 2 and we hope you’re just as excited as we are! 

Find the update on FF and AO3 and please enjoy :)

One particularly hot summer’s day later (which included three distinct instances where he thought he’d be dying of dehydration), Harry leaves his campus office and lazily shuffles his feet towards his single apartment. Luckily for him, it was in the near vicinity of the campus, if the lady from the real estate company’s words are to be taken for granted. Two bus stops and fifteen minutes of trying to walk - or if he’s honest more like sleepily crawling - in the morning in order to arrive on time is not what Harry would call “in the near vicinity”, but he takes what he can get for a reasonable price. Turning the key twice in the lock, he makes his way out of the building and outside on the sun burnt grass of the campus yard. Privately, he starts questioning his decision to move his paperwork home and everything it entails. Apparently, carrying ten kilos of paper through humid weather thick enough to be soup is not the best idea he could come up with, but he weighs the discomfort of powering through against having to go back to his cupboard of an office any time he wants to work, and the former wins by a landslide.

Keeping his eyes on the ground to avoid tripping on his own shoelaces, Harry almost jumps out of his skin in fright when he bumps into something soft and very much alive.

“Ouch! Watch where you’re going, you loon!”

Harry thinks he recognises the voice, but being sans glasses courtesy of the impact leaves him rather blind, thus making the recognition process a wee bit difficult. Feeling the grass with his palms frantically, he manages to find said glasses and shoves them onto his nose - all without more damage than a few fingerprints.  Slowly but surely the image of a redheaded young woman forms in front of his eyes. Harry gulps. He definitely knows the woman.

“Funny bumping into you here. Quite literally,” Ginny remarks, hands on her hips as she scrutinises him from head to feet.

“Erm - H-hi,” he replies, rubbing the back of his head. Quite the wordsmith today, Harry, quite the wordsmith, he thinks to himself.

“Here,” she says, offering a hand to help him up. “Where’s your son?”

“My who?” Harry is confused for a second or two, questioning his past and opportunities to father children. “Oh, you mean Teddy? He’s my godson,” he laughs.

“Oh! Oh, right. Sorry,” Ginny smiles and her cheeks color pale pink.

“No worries, happens more than one would think,” he responds and stretches his hand to lightly pat her on the shoulder. Catching himself mid-stretch, Harry cringes and rapidly closes his fist as though he just caught an annoying fly or bug. He cringes again. Very smooth, Harry, he mentally grumbles.

“Anyway, I was heading to the library so feel free to join,” she quirks her upper lip into half a smile. Harry notices the bags under her eyes and the book bag filled to the brim with giant tomes she probably has to go through until morning. At a quick glance, Harry’d guess she has to be about at the final weeks of her Master’s writing process.

“I’m finished for the day, thanks,” he grins, already regretting that he has to decline her generous invitation, but dinner with family is not something he can make a habit of missing - no matter the beautiful temptation - as he is a man who values his own life. Lily Potter is not someone who can take no for an answer, if the answer does not come accompanied by extensive and sorrowful explanations. At the moment, he doesn’t quite feel a wild desire to confess to his parents plus Sirius that he is ditching them to study with a pretty girl he just met.

“Well, somebody’s been productive today,” Ginny raises one ginger eyebrow.

“Yes, such are the days when I’m not on Teddy duty,” he grins, ruffling his jet black hair.

“Teddy duty. Sounds fun,” she laughs, flashing him a smile of her own for good measure.

“Of course it is, whenever he’s not screaming bloody murder that he wants doughnuts and that is like 90% of the time.”

“The kid knows his doughnut flavours, I must give him that,” Ginny laughs.

“Yeah, he’s a natural. But so are you, I reckon,” Harry says and prays he hadn’t been too straightforward the second the words roll out his mouth.

“You should remind my brother of this very important little fact, actually. He tends to experience momentary lapses of memory whenever he has to pay me or give me the occasional doughnut eating break,” she pouts and Harry notices again the way a wave of freckles clash on the soft skin of her face. He fights the urge to lean down and have a closer look.

“How long have you been working with Ron, though? I haven’t seen you around until yesterday.”

“Oh, I do it every now and then. Whenever he might need a hand or whenever my wallet feels lonely,” she answers easily.  Harry can’t help but admire her easy confidence - he’d never quite managed the ability to project that level of casualness when chatting up a beautiful woman.  Not that he’s a beautiful - anyway. He’d been lucky enough to never need to work in his university years and god knew that academic books cost a liver and a toe. James and Lily had always supported him and now he started wondering if it really was the right thing - Ginny seemed much more down to earth than he’d been in his MA era.

Ginny sighs with something he’d maybe call regret.  Though he’s not taking full credit since she’s leaving him to lock herself in the stuffy library for the foreseeable future.  “Well, then I’m off to the library. Don’t try to stop me, I’m dying to have one more sleepless night for the sake of academia,” she jokes, pulling on the most convincingly excited face anyone could manage under the circumstances.

Harry watches her as she leaves and sighs. A thought is forming at the back of his head, nebulous but relentlessly niggling like an itch he can’t quite scratch.  Still, his eyes refuse to leave the small form capped by a waterfall of ginger hair disappearing in the distance, the rush of students moving to and fro between the dining hall and the library. It takes him a moment before he realises he’s been holding his breath.

“Harry, love, you’ve barely touched your food,” Lily points out later that evening, wiping her hands on a kitchen cloth. Harry looks down to see his plate still full, which is weird in itself since he distinctly remembers bringing the fork to his mouth several times throughout dinner.

He finds that he must pause the introspection process when a green pea arrives uninvited and lands between his eyes, followed by a second that chooses to rest inside his left nostril. Harry exhales loudly, making the pea pop on the table and roll over, hitting the culprit’s elbow. Or, rather, culprits - plural.

“Cut it out, you too,” Lily huffs, half-amused by her husband and best friend’s antics.

“Aw, Lily, but it’s fun,” Sirius flashes a devilish grin and Harry acknowledges he’s onto something. “My young godson here is clearly disturbed by something and it is my duty, as godfather, to intervene and ensure that everything is quite alright.” To the young man’s chagrin, Sirius lays on his most sincere and angel like face, batting his eyelashes in Harry’s direction.

“That’s correct, son,” James joins in. Oh-oh, double trouble. There’s nothing more dangerous and potentially harmful for his sanity than the powers of James Potter and Sirius Black working in horrible, life ruining unison. “Allow your old man and godfather to kiss it all better, what d’ya say?” James asks, mirroring Sirius’ innocent appeal.

Rolling his eyes, the youngest Potter excuses himself from the table and walks over to the kitchen to do the dishes in a desperate attempt to escape the upcoming interrogation.

“At least tell me that you’ve got her number,” Sirius approaches, casually leaning against the sink, rendering it difficult for Harry to further ignore him.

“No,” he mumbles, squishing a wild desire to stomp one foot on the ground in a Teddy-like manner. “And, might I add, it’s none of your business,” the dark haired man continues, feeling very much like an adult.

“Fine,” Sirius crosses his arms, “have it your way. But don’t come crying to me when she says no.” As he pushes away from the sideboard to leave, his right hand briefly covers three quarters of the tap’s mouth and Harry is greeted by a rainfall he is definitely not prepared for. He simultaneously coughs and growls abuses under his breath, grasping his glasses to wipe them on his black jeans.

“Will you two ever grow up?” Lily firmly plants her hands on her hips, her hair afire in the pink dusk glow reflected from the spotless windows that fill an entire wall in the living room large.

“No,” James gives her a lopsided smile and kisses her cheek. “And you don’t want us to,” he whispers close to her lips, earning some disgusted mutterings from Sirius between two obviously fake coughs.

“Maybe not,” she winks and walks over to place an arm around Harry’s shoulders. “Although this has unlimited potential to turn into a captivating debate, it’s not the main focus of our family get together this evening.”

Harry looks at his mother, green eyes reflected mirrors of his own. His breath catches for the second time this day.

“Am I going to have a brother?” His question is greeted by silence. “Or a sister?” He lamely tries again, seeing as no one is willing to break the uncomfortableness of the moment.

James is the one to recover first. “Not that one of us is not trying,” he quickly glances towards Lily, who blushes furiously and shrugs. “That’s not the news,” he pauses.

“The three of us have been offered contracts in the US, love. Really well paid,” Lily says, stroking her son’s cheek. He grasps her hand and squeezes, as he did since he was a little boy.

“And? Have you given an answer already?” Harry inquires, struggling to keep his tone even.

“We did,” Sirius is the one to mouth the dreaded news. “We’re going to work at the New York Presbyterian. For the year to come, at least.”

“We’ll be starting at the end of this month,” James adds on and Harry gets the feeling that his parents might have rehearsed this moment a couple of times before acting live before him.

“That’s...brilliant,” he replies, feeling like he’d rather melt on the floor into a depressed puddle than hug Sirius, James and Lily and pat them on the back in good health. He’d never been one hundred percent alone, even though he moved out as soon as he started university. He always had Sirius to visit him, James and Lily to break in uninvited. He always had family dinners, weekends with his parents, unplanned holidays with the whole crazy crew, and someone to come by when he felt like he couldn’t really handle life. And what about Teddy? Of course, he was his official and legal guardian since Tonks and Remus - well, since they weren’t around any longer, but somehow it seemed easier to take care of him knowing that James and Lily were one phone call away.

“Harry,” his mother lifts his chin and he can’t avoid her gaze. His heart aches and he isn’t even ashamed to admit that, yes, he is a momma’s boy and he can’t face life without his mother. “Harry, my love, you really are ready to start something on your own. Even if it might not feel that way right now, you are. Trust your mother, I know you better than anyone,” she smiles and brings her plump lips to his stubbled cheek. Harry takes his mother into his arms and holds her tight, filling his lungs with the scent of her hair enough to last him until the three of them come back home.

“What about Teddy? Am I prepared to take care of him too?” he mutters into Lily’s dark red hair.

“Oh, darling, you’ve not needed our help with Teddy for a long time now. It’s simply that you never realised it,” Lily draws her hands through her son’s dark locks, admiring how it sicks up all over, just like James’. As much as she’d love to stroke his hair every day and watch him grow old, she understands it is the moment to take a step back and allow him to tackle obstacles and hardships at his own pace.  “It’s not forever, love.”

“Teddy wants cartoons!” a small boy’s voice booms throughout the room. His shoes muddy from playing in the backyard pond, he leaves little marks on the polished floor as he runs as fast as his feet can carry him to hug Harry’s legs. A smile creeping on his face, the young godfather decodes the message as “let’s go home now” and notes the urgency in the little boy’s actions.

“Sorry everyone, it’s Friday night and Teddy’s special will be on in about fifteen,” Harry chuckles as he checks the time on the old watch perpetually strapped around his wrist, passed down directly from Fleamont Potter ages before Harry was old enough to know how to tell time, let alone comprehend the significance of the gift.

“Completely understandable,” James replies, raising his palms in front of him and nodding his head.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want to miss the new adventures of Babbity Rabbity either,” Sirius comments, picking Teddy up and spinning him in the air, airplane style, an action met by laughter and squeals of joy.

Lily squeezes her boy’s calloused palm and he sighs, yet reciprocates. Closing his eyes, a flash of ginger hair and two freckled cheeks pass before his mind’s eye and something inside him tells him that, somehow, everything will be alright.

#itsblissfuloblivion writes #gryffindormischief #fightfortherightsofhouseelves #hinny #hinny au #harry x ginny #harry potter x ginny weasley #jily #teddy lupin #james x lily #sirius black #ron weasley #harryginny #hinny fic #read-a-hinny-fic #kindle #kindle chapter 2 #james potter #lily potter

[ellanainthetardis]

A much needed discussion in the Snow’s aftermarth today! I hope you like it! Please, let me know!

[ff] or [ao3]

Chapter 37 : The Worst Word

The roof was the same and yet something felt off.

Everything felt off, really.

He had lasted five minutes in the penthouse, time enough to check that the bar cart was still liquor free. The familiarity of the place felt displaced. The same but different. Difficult to explain, impossible to apprehend and fucking terrifying.

His heart was still missing a beat now and then before racing to catch up, consequence of Snow’s visit. It might have been easier if Peeta hadn’t remained locked in his room. Maybe. He wasn’t sure. Being confronted to the boy and his failed broken promise didn’t do anything for him but knowing the boy was in pain because of him…

His train of thoughts came to a stop when the door opened and he looked up from where he was sitting with his back against the low wall. Effie’s face was a blank mask of content happiness that he knew better than to believe, he looked away before she could make eye contact, fighting against a new wave of shame.

Snow might as well have cut his balls and made him eat them in front of her.

Fucking bruised pride.

It should have been the last of his worries but going head to head with the President had made him annoyingly clear-headed.

“How are you?” she asked, glancing over the wall at the Capitol beneath. He didn’t know how he felt about the surrounding noises of cars engines, horns, people talking, walking, breathing… On one hand, it was an aggression. On the other, it drowned his thoughts and that wasn’t a bad thing.

“Peachy.” he muttered, bumping his head against the wall once, as if to better convince himself.

“Haymitch.” she rebuked. A reminder that they were alone and he didn’t need to pretend, he figured.

He closed his eyes, forcing a fake levity to his voice. “Like I was tossed in a locked room with a bunch of friends I was forced to murder?”

It fell flat. So flat.

He swallowed hard, not looking when she lowered herself to the ground next to him in a puff of pink fabric. He felt her hand on his arm, light, and he made a conscious effort not to flinch or shrug it off. He felt wary of people violating his personal space. He felt… On edge. And he wanted a weapon, his weapon but the thought of asking for the knife that had killed Chaff…

He let out a small sigh. “You know, sweetheart, I can’t believe you didn’t make sure the bar would be stocked. Expected better of you.”

It wasn’t exactly a joke, more of a warning. He wasn’t remaining sober. Not if he could help it.

She snorted, a touch bitter but not quite surprised. “I need you sharp a little while longer.”

“I guess.” he sighed again. He felt her wriggle next to him and he opened his eyes to see her pull out a battered cigarette packet and a lighter from very well hidden pockets. The lighter wasn’t the silver one Finnick had gifted her with but a cheap plastic white one branded with the logo of a popular club downtown. He didn’t ask why the change. He could guess. He snatched a cigarette from the packet without waiting to be offered. If he couldn’t drink, he would take what he could get. “How many of those did you smoke while I was gone?”

She let out a chuckle and lit his cigarette before doing the same for the one she had wedged between her red painted lips. She took a drag and blew out the smoke slowly before giving him a small shrug. “Enough that we can stop pretending it is simply stress-smoking, I suppose.” She waved the lighter dismissively. “I will quit again. Eventually.”

He breathed in the smell of cigarette, letting it invade everything. It was better than imagining coal dust or remembering pure outdoor air. The city might be just what he needed after all. Polluted air that nobody would have accused of being fresh… No risk of confusing his surroundings for an arena.

He stared at the red glow of the cigarette as it consumed itself between his quivering fingers.

“How’s the boy doing?” he asked after a few minutes.

She took her sweet time answering that, debating what to say and what to keep silent to spare his feelings.

“Right now, he is upset.” she said slowly. “He had not realized… He never thought you would not want to go back to Twelve. I do not think he truly thought about the… nature of the arena.”

“Did you?” he retorted. It surprised him a little that she seemed to have grasped the problem before he had even voiced it. But, then again, it wasn’t her first rodeo either.

“As soon as they unveiled it.” she confessed, taking a nervous drag. Her fingers weren’t that steady either. “I heard through the grapevine this particular arena was a last minute decision. It was in the work somewhere, of course, it takes years to build them as you know, but… They had another one in mind for the Quell until a few months ago. Perhaps there were some malfunctions…”

“Sure.” he scoffed. “Malfunctions.” Or the possibility that Heavensbee had babbled about it to the rebels – or to some victors. “Sent a clear message though, yeah?”

“Rather, yes. For those of us who knew how to read between the lines, at least. And I suppose the Districts saw it clearly for what it was too.” she admitted. “This Quell was a hit. The ratings have never been higher.”

“Awesome.” he deadpanned, flicking ashes away. “I’m guessing I wasn’t the popular choice, though.”

“You would be mistaken, then.” she countered carefully. “Cashmere was the clear favorite on the betting boards but… After Katniss… People were rooting for you.”

It made it worse somehow.

“How much do they want a piece of our asses?” Those were important questions, he told himself. Those were the questions he would need the answers to if he wanted to play the game. The red glow of the cigarette was coming dangerously close to his skin but he brought it to his lips anyway, not quite sure if he wanted to get burned or if he was desperate for the reassuring pattern smoking involved: bring it to his mouth, breathe in, take it away, breathe out, flick ash, repeat. No room for intrusive memories.

Effie crushed the bud of her own cigarette against the ground and then tossed it away. “For now, Peeta is safe because of Katniss but I would advise on sending him back to Twelve as soon as possible. He is grieving, we can use that excuse.”

He nodded once to show his approbation of this plan. Sending the boy away would solve more than one problem. He wouldn’t have to face his failure every day for starter. “And us?”

They had been lucky the previous year because anyone with common sense had put two and two together, had realized it equaled poisonous berries and hadn’t really tried to grab anyone from the winning team. They wouldn’t be that lucky this time around, he suspected. Effie would be the escort of the season and he was the current victor. They were both attractive enough. The conclusion wasn’t a leap.

“I won’t be an escort much longer. I can navigate through that.” she hummed. “You… Well, victors your age are usually solicited for the whole package. They want the pretence of a romance not just sex… If we came out… It would go a long way into removing both of us from the playing field.”

Her voice was tentative. It wasn’t difficult to understand why. He had never reacted well to any mention of their relationship before the morning of the Quell’s Reaping, before he had thought… She was wary and she had reasons to be, he figured.

“We need to go public.” he stated, crushing the bud of his cigarette under his boot. “Snow’s counting on it now.”

She frowned. “I fail to see…”

“Oh, come on, Princess.” he scowled. “A victor and an escort falling in love? It shows the Districts you’re not all that bad, that there’s good there… Why do you think he was so ready to let me stay?” Besides the fact it was smarter to keep Haymitch close where he could watch him. He shook his head. “Never mind me being in love with an escort. I fucking won two Quells. I’m the fucking Districts' champion.”

All that talk of being in love made something flash on her face, something like awe and longing, but it was gone under a well crafted mask of blankness before he could try to analyze it.

“He was very clear about our marriage being…” she argued.

“Yeah, let’s never talk about what happened earlier ever again, okay?” he cut her off, getting to his feet with less grace than he would have liked. He paced the length of the roof, wrapping his good arm around his aching chest. “Marriage is something else. It’s too much. It sets a precedent he doesn’t want. I don’t have the same rights you do. I’m a victor, yeah, but legally that’s still a far shot from a Capitol citizen. Being together is one thing… Good for country unity… Advertising us as equal… Totally another, Princess.”

He paced back and forth. From the edge of the roof to the door. Again and again, finding some comfort in the repetitive pattern. Wasn’t that the first sign of insanity or something?

“It is more than I ever expected.” she whispered.

He kept on pacing, licking his lips.

It was more than he had ever expected too. They had gone from the best they could get being a few weeks a year to the possibility of a life together.

He thought it was a trap, a life insurance.

Because once he got that life, they would have to pry it away from his cold dead hands.

“You can still back out.” he offered.

He couldn’t do any of it alone, that much was clear to him, but he wouldn’t condemn her to share his prison. She could come willingly or…

“Are you moving in with me or are you staying in the penthouse?” she asked, as if she hadn’t heard him at all. “Nobody said you had to stay in the penthouse and if we do come out as a couple, there is no reason to expect you wouldn’t live with me. Brutus was renting a flat when he spent months in the city… It isn’t unprecedented for a victor not to reside at the Center. We should be living together, I think. We have been sleeping together for so long… I am ready for the next step. Aren’t you?”

She sounded so serious, it stopped his frantic pacing. He stood there, one arm around his chest, the other hanging limply by his side, watching the small crease between her eyebrows that meant she was deep in thought.

“My apartment is big enough, I suppose… Although perhaps we should look for something a little roomier in time. There are darling houses on the market near Main Square…” she hummed. “My father might even own a few, who knows… He is always buying and selling properties… I shall ask. And…”

“Snow threatened to kill you and you want to go house hunting?” he spat, cutting her off. She looked up at him, startled by the words.

“I thought we just agreed to never talk about it again?” she winced. She fished another cigarette and lit it, betraying just how unsettled on the issue she really was.

Haymitch’s hands were shaking badly and he bundled the one she could see in a fist.

“He wants to kill you. Because of me.” he growled. “Because I…”

His voice trailed off.

“Because you love me.” she supplied calmly. The only tell of nervousness was her trembling fingers when she brought the cigarette to her lips. “It had nothing to do with what happened before the Quell, you realize. Everyone in the business knows we are lovers. It was only a matter of time… It is as much my fault as yours.”

“He was going to kill you…” he said again and it sounded almost pleading. He didn’t know what he was begging her for. Common sense? For her to run and not look back because he would end up getting her murdered and it was more than he could bear? “He was going to…”

“You stopped him.” she said softly.

His cheeks flushed crimson with embarrassment and he turned away from her, walked straight to the wall and rested his elbows on the edge, wondering what it would be like to fall down, to… He closed his eyes. Not like it was even a possibility with the force field in place…

The mix of tobacco and perfume reached his nose before he felt her presence at his back. He flinched when she placed her hand on his shoulder and he wondered if that instinctive reaction would ever stop, tried to remember when it had stopped last time…

“You do not want to talk about earlier because you thought it was weak, that you were weak…” she whispered and he bodily shuddered in mortification. Give him a good lashing on a public square every day rather than this. At least he could still somehow get out of it with his dignity intact, with… She pressed herself against his back, not hard enough that he felt trapped, just enough that he could feel her warmth… “I thought I never saw you stronger.” He scoffed at that but she didn’t let herself be distracted. “What you did… What he made you do… It was meant to be humiliating and I understand why you feel that way, I do… But Haymitch… How can I find it anything but strong when you accepted it for me? When you went through that for me?”

He took a few deep breaths, doubting he would ever see it that way.

“Seems like I do a lot of stupid shit for you.” he muttered.

And that wasn’t him. He wasn’t the fool who did stuff out of love. He wasn’t the hero in those romance stories she liked so much who ended up defying the odds just so he could get the hot smut scene at the end of the book. He wasn’t the guy who risked it all for the girl. Was he?

“I really wanted Katniss to win.” he said just to hear it out loud, just to remind them that this hadn’t been the plan and that no part of them, none at all, should be happy at the perspective of being granted a life together. It wasn’t right.

“We all did, darling.” she promised. She leaned a little more against him, seeking comfort maybe. “We couldn’t do anything… When it happened… We knew what Johanna was planning and we couldn’t do anything… There was some money left and Peeta kept telling me we should send something, find a way to warn you, but I knew… I knew it would be too late. I knew by the time we contacted the Gamemakers and requested a parachute… I knew we had lost. It was one of those times, you know?”

“Yeah.” he sighed.

After a few Games… There were patterns. Victors with a sound brain and a few of the escorts eventually became experts in the art of predicting what would happen in which time frame. And, he figured, everyone who had been involved in the Games for long enough knew those moments when they came: the moment of clarity when you realized that, as a mentor, as someone sitting outside the arena, you were powerless to help the tribute about to meet his death on the screen. And there was nothing but grim acceptance in those moments because there was nothing else to do but watch and admit that you had lost.

“Johanna pushed the tree, it went down, Katniss screamed, you tried to step aside…” she whispered. “It is all so clear in my mind… I couldn’t watch the live feed, I could only stare at your monitor, at your heartbeat, at…” She took a deep breath. “You didn’t die and my heart soared and then… Then I realized Peeta had gone white, I realized Katniss’ monitor had shut down…” She shook her head. “I didn’t even reach for him. I couldn’t. You attacked Johanna and…”

“And I beat her to death?” he finished, feeling sick to the stomach at the memories her words were bringing back. He didn’t want to face those memories. He didn’t want to think about… He glanced down at his right hand, not surprised to see a fist but surprised that it was free of blood. Not even a scratch on his knuckles. The doctors had seen to that.

Effie sneaked an arm around his waist, buried her face between his shoulder blades. “I have never been as grateful to Chaff as I was when he came for you. I… I feel so sorry for all I said to him, about him, all those years…”

“Chaff was an idiot.” he snapped, pain and anger mixing in his voice. He wanted to shrug her off and storm out, away, but he was rooted to the spot. It was a curious paradox: the need to be alone to lick his wounds battling with the desperate craving he felt for her. He bowed, letting his shoulders slouch under the weight of it all. “He rigged it, you know. He let me win. Idiot. Fucking idiot…” He shook his head, unable to keep the edge off his voice, unable to bear it even as her arm tightened around him as if to anchor him. “What did he do it for? He had a sister, people… Why would he go and…”

His voice broke and he left that sentence unfinished.

It was a long time before she ventured a guess, sounding far too knowing for someone who had never seen eye to eye with his best friend. “He knew he was dying.”

“Bullshit.” he snarled. “All he had to do was win. They’d have fixed him. The fuck did he have to go and make me win for?”

She was very careful when she spoke next. “Has it occurred to you… What Katniss was to you, what Finnick was to Mags… Has it occurred to you that you were that to Chaff?”

“Don’t be stupid.” he sneered.

“Am I being stupid?” she hummed. “He was your mentor, wasn’t he? Perhaps not officially but… You told me enough times that you felt you owed him. He was very protective of you… Why, I lost count of all the lectures he gave me.”

“Lectures?” he frowned.

“He thought I would break your heart.” she sighed. “Either by ending up dead or by leaving you. I never wanted to listen.”

He snorted because he could perfectly imagine it. Chaff trying to threaten her into being sensible…

“Never did either.” he admitted, covering her hand with his. And he couldn’t say he regretted it. Not really. He rubbed his face with his free hand. “I’m tired.”

“You should rest, take a nap.” she suggested gently. “Mr Harwyn and Maya are coming to dinner tonight. It will be nice to have the whole team together before the Crowning, won’t it?”

“Almost the whole team.” he corrected absent-mindedly.

“Yes.” she lamented. “Almost.”

Almost was the worst word that ever was, he decided.

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #into that good night

[shippingtheswann]

MODEL BEHAVIOR A Captain Swan modern AU  by @shippingtheswann​ for the @captainswanbigbang​ 2017 year!

SUMMARY: Emma is an up and coming model living in LA with her best friend Ruby. Killian is a star baseball player for the LA Dodgers. Their families are close - and they grew up together. However, what happens after not seeing each other for 6 years - when they are forced back into a situation that requires them to reconnect and explore what was once there.

RATING: Explicit

WARNING: There will be smut later in the story, some mention of violence, hard language, mention of pregnancy loss

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Hello everyone! Sorry for the slight delay in the time of the posting - but from now all, most of the story will be posted Friday evenings JST. However, this will be the last post for a while. October 13 is when I plan on being back from maternity. I will of course keep everyone updated if something changes. 

Special shout out to Monica @acaptainswaneternity​ - the artist with this story. I have loved everything she has done for me - so make sure to check her out! She made an amazing cover and the best image sets for each chapter. 

Another huge shout out to Nicola @alocin209​ who beta read everything and tried to keep me on target!

Can also be found on FF - Chapter One; Chapter Two; Chapter Three; Chapter Four

He really didn't know what he was thinking. Their flight had been going pretty well and he was enjoying his time reconnecting with the girl he almost gave up his future for. She was the same girl he once fell for, but so much more now. However, when he finally questioned her about her high school love life, everything changed. He knew she once had a crush on someone, but she never told him who. To say that he was floored by her confession of her once liking him was a bit of an understatement.

He knew there was an attraction between them, even if they weren't in the same state and couldn't actually see each other. He knew there had been a connection that was nothing like he had ever felt before. He knew he once liked her, as more than just a friend. However, he never would have guessed that she reciprocated those feelings, or at least feel them as deeply as he did.

In the back of his mind, he knew there was a possibility of her having the same feelings as him - hell, it was the reason he was going to show up at her graduation and put everything on the line.

His heart deflated a bit when she confessed to letting those feelings pass. Sure, he had to push those feelings to the back of his consciousness when Milah showed up, but they were always there, even if he didn't want to admit it. There would always be a pull towards Emma, always be a connection that would never be made with another person. So it hurt him that she had pushed him away in the way she did.

He called bullshit on her not feeling anything towards him anymore though; he could feel that there was something still there. It was as simple as that. If he could feel the electricity and heat spark between them each time one of them came close to the other, then she definitely could. He watched her breath hitch as he moved closer to her. He felt her body stiffen as there was contact between their hands. He saw her staring at his face as he moved closer to her. He noticed her drinking in his features, something he thought would have been a sight she had dreamt about before. He certainly knew he had dreamt about her lips on his before.

He knew he had to do something, anything to show her that he knew she was lying. He was always able to read her like an open book. He knew she still had feelings for him, even if she didn't quite know what those feelings were. He knew there was attraction there. In that moment, as he stared at her lips, he knew what he was going to do.

"I do," she replied to his previous question.

"Alright, my turn," he started, "I'm choosing dare this time. I dare you to kiss me. Prove to me you no longer have any feelings for me."

He watched the emotions run over her face. It seemed as if twenty emotions waved over her features in a matter of seconds. He knew she was confused about his dare, he was sure she was wondering what on Earth could have prompted him to dare her to kiss him.

As he watched her, he began to doubt himself. What was he thinking? He could potentially ruin everything that they were now working towards, if it was anything at all. He was enjoying being around her again and he would be lying if he said he wasn't hoping they could pick up where they left off. Whether or not it became a friendship or relationship, he didn't care, he just knew he wanted to be back in her life and wanted her in his.

Now, all of that could be ruined, simply because he allowed his old attraction get the best of him.

All of a sudden, he felt hands on his shirt pulling him forward. Before he could put together a coherent thought, Emma's lips were on his. It startled him for a moment. He couldn't move, couldn't think, hell, he wasn't even sure he breathed for a moment. Her lips on his overtook all of his senses.

It was if the moments in time had slowed down, but sped up all at the same time. Thankfully, he was pulled out of his frozen state and pulled Emma closer to him. The kiss had sparked something inside of him that he didn't realize he had. He had never felt this kind of electricity in a kiss before. When he kissed Milah in the past, there was passion, but never anything like kissing Emma. It was if he needed her to breathe.

He normally wasn't the aggressive type of man when he kissed a woman. However, with his arms wrapped around Emma's slight frame, his personality changed. He couldn't get enough of her. Her lips were already becoming an addiction to him, better than any rum he could ever taste. He parted her lips and deepened their kiss. He noted that their lips molded perfectly together.

Their bodies were separated by the armrest between them and in that moment he hated that stupid mechanism. He wanted to be closer to her and every moment that passed, every moment their lips were fused together, every little moan that escaped her throat was torture to him. Torture yes, but it was the best torture a man could endure.

His hands moved over her body with a purpose. One hand clutched at her hair and the feeling of each strand of hair that moved through his fingertips was magic. It reminded him of the feeling he got when he held a ball in his hands. Something was always special about holding a baseball to him and he never felt that way about anything else. Sand between his toes was never something he wanted, the feeling of silk underneath his skin wasn't something he looked forward to, but the touch of a baseball was comforting and exhilarating all at the same time. He never knew he could feel that way about another touch.

Her skin was soft in the places his other hand could touch. Her tank top allowed him unabided sources of skin. Emma was never really tan, but the soft glow of her skin accented her well. He hadn't noticed during his brief touches how warm she was, but now that his hands were roaming over her arms, he could feel the heat radiating from his touch. Her hands moved over his shirt, over his chest and down his arms. The way her fingers played with his arm hair was almost too much to handle. If he couldn't get enough of her, he knew she couldn't get enough of him.

She was pulling towards him in the same desperate manner than he was pulling towards her. Her frantic state was all he needed to keep him going. He wasn't quite sure how long the kiss, or was it kisses, lasted. He hadn't made out this way since he was a teenager and the passion that was flowing wasn't something he was ready to let go of.

Thankfully, she must have felt the same way. She broke the kiss, if only for a moment, for her to move the blasted armrest out of the way before she was back on him. Fuck, she was amazing. Her hips were now pressed against his in a odd way since they were still sitting on an airplane on their way home for the summer.

However, the removal of the device allowed him more free range of her body and his hands couldn't help but move farther down. The skin right above her pants was bare, thanks to the work of his hands on her tank top earlier. Never before had an area of a body been so important to him, but his hands didn't want to leave her lower back.

Emma had other ideas though. She moved quickly, placing herself higher than him, making his hands slip to her ass. Yes, he was aggressive with their kiss, but she was taking things to the next level. He never thought in a million years that he would be making out with Emma Nolan, on an airplane, with her practically sitting on his lap and his hands caressing her ass. Emma had always had a great body and he was perfectly content to continue to feel her up like a horny teenager on a second date.

A loud cough came from next to them right as Emma began to sink down onto his lap. They both moved back from each other quickly, Emma's face showing a bit of embarrassment. Her lips were swollen and her cheeks pink from excitement. Her hair was a bit disheveled from their session and he was sure he looked the same. They looked at each other for half a second before turning their attention to the cough that came from in front of them.

The stewardess stood a few paces from them with a look of displeasure but behind her stoic features, the woman actually seemed to smile at them. He was sure this wasn't the worst thing the stewardess had had to break up on a flight, but he was embarrassed by the situation. He would never regret kissing Emma. No, he would never regret anything that happened with Emma but he did feel bad for those who had to witness what had passed between them.

"I'm sorry for interrupting, but we are preparing for landing so if you would please take your seat," the stewardess said passively before moving towards the coach section.

Killian tried to make eye contact with Emma again as she slipped off his lap and back into her seat. However, she immediately looked out the window. He was staring at the back of her head, taking in her blonde hair while praying that she would turn and just look at him. He didn't want her to regret what they just did and he certainly didn't want to ruin what they may have been building.

He didn't regret what they did, but he couldn't help but feel bad about the circumstances in which it happened. They were both drunk and he knew that people make bad decisions while drunk. He didn't think this was a bad decision, but he couldn't help but feel that Emma was thinking that. It hurt him that she could think he would use her, or that he would regret the whole thing.

"Emma," he said in a whisper, trying to get her to turn around. He saw the deep breath she brought in as her name left his lips. She didn't move though. She kept her interest on the window. He didn't really know what to do, but he couldn't move back to his original seat. He didn't really want to though, he wanted to stay next to her no matter how awkward everything was. He wanted her to notice that he was there, that things weren't like years ago.

"Emma, please look at me," he begged, reaching to grasp one of her hands that sat on her knee. His plea didn't do anything though; she kept her face towards the ascending ground but she didn't move her hand away. Maybe she was just embarrassed by being caught up in the moment. Maybe she didn't regret the kiss. It wasn't like they were actually friends again, it wasn't like she would be able to just tell him that.

They had opened up a bit to each other during their game and even though it felt like their friendship was one that could pick up years after not speaking, he didn't think they were at the point yet where Emma would feel comfortable telling Killian what she was feeling.

Killian tried to stay calm during the plane's descent. He just wanted to talk to her, to let her know what he was feeling, to clear the air. If he was going to be staying next door to her house, they needed to get past whatever was between them. He knew they would be seeing each other often, his mother and hers were close friends and he knew there would be countless dinners they would have to attend.

The plane landed on the ground of Reagan National Airport, landing with a lot of bumps, causing Emma to squeeze Killian's hand a bit. That gave him a bit of a boost. Sure, she may have just been using him in a moment of weakness, but he knew in his heart it wasn't just that. Maybe it was a small sign that she wasn't upset or disgusted.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Washington DC…" the Captain came over the intercom but Killian wasn't paying too much attention to what he was saying. He was too busy waiting to see what Emma was going to do. He knew he had to get up and get his stuff, but he really didn't want to leave her side.

"Well, welcome home Swan," he said as he stood. She finally took his prompt and looked at him. Her face was blank, emotions wiped away. For the first time in his entire life, he was unable to read his neighbor. He couldn't place where her mind was. Her book was closed, hidden away behind it's simple, yet beautiful cover.

"Walk with me to baggage claim?" she asked in a meek voice. He could hear the nervousness behind the question. He knew she wasn't looking forward to seeing her mother. She was always daddy's little girl; her father understood her in a way her mother couldn't. Her father was always 100% supportive of her, where her mother wasn't always the most understanding. It wasn't that Mary Margaret didn't love her daughter, it was just they had different ideas for what Emma needed out of life. He understood her trepidation; he had the same feeling about his father.

"As you wish," he said, before he walked to the stewardess to get his coat and items that he left in his previous seat.

He watched in awe as Emma was given her jacket, a bright red leather one that fit her like a glove. She looked like a vision standing in front of him and it shocked him how in tune with her he was. He had only reconnected with her a few hours ago yet here he was, completely captivated by her. It wasn't something he was thinking was going to happen when he came home for the summer but it was going to be something that would change his entire outlook of this suspension.

----------

He was relieved when baggage claim finally came into view. The long walk from the farthest gate in the airport, through security and finally down to the area was difficult to say the least. They walked together but they couldn't have been farther apart. There wasn't much physical space between them, there really couldn't be in a crowded airport, but the emotional space was palpable. He knew they had to talk about what happened and he knew it needed to happen sooner rather than later.

"Emma, can we talk?" he asked, placing his hand on her lower back and leading her to the side of the walkway, out of sight from the waiting throngs of people at baggage claim.

"We don't have time for this," was all she replied with, back to refusing to make eye contact with him.

"I just want to let you know, I don't regret anything. I don't want things to be weird between us. I've missed you," he explained, pulling her chin so she would actually look him in the eyes. Hopefully she would see his sincerity, his desire and his need for their relationship to continue.

"OK," she whispered, keeping eye contact. There was a slight apology in her eyes and he knew he was right in his thoughts about hers.

"Alright then, let's go meet our parents," he finished, but before he moved away, she grabbed his arm, bringing his attention back to her.

"I don't regret it either," she said with a smile, before walking off towards baggage claim.

He followed her like a lost puppy. He relaxed as he followed her towards the carousel with their luggage. She wasn't remorseful about their interaction and from the twinkle in her eye, he knew for a fact that she felt something towards him. He could only hope it was what he was beginning to feel.

Sure, things would be messy from here on out, but maybe Emma coming back into his life was just what he needed to get his life and his career back on track. Emma revived something in him that had been missing since Milah, since his life went to shit. He smiled as he watched Emma pause and look around the area for anyone she knew.

"Darling, there you are!" A familiar voice came from in front of them, both of their heads snapping to the area.

Adelaide Jones was pushing her way through the crowd towards the pair. Her bright smile instantly made Killian feel a million times better. His mother always held herself with a certain confidence and she hadn't changed since the last time he saw her. That was over two years ago. He always found some excuse not to come home or not to see his family when he was in the area playing ball; but two years ago, his mother surprised him in Baltimore when they were playing. Thankfully, she had come alone. She still had shoulder length auburn hair that was straightened perfectly and he knew that would never change. She was dressed to the nines, like always. She never left the house looking anything less than professional and he actually loved that about her. She was always the picture of perfection yet was approachable and loving.

His mother's comforting smile grew ten sizes when she saw Emma standing close to her son. Killian knew she loved Emma, calling her a daughter on more occasions than he could count. It was the way their families always were, treating each other like family rather than neighbors. Adelaide was there when Emma got ready for prom her junior and senior year, she was in attendance opening night of every single play Emma was in, she was at Emma's graduation and she was someone who would pick Emma up from school if she was sick and her mother couldn't leave work. He was touched to see Emma's smile grow upon seeing his mother as well.

He was surprised though, when his mother bypassed him to embrace Emma first.

"Emma dear, it's been too long! I am so happy you are home, I've missed you!" she cried, pulling Emma into a tight embrace.

"Mrs. Jones, it's so good to see you!" Emma replied with nothing but admiration in her voice.

"Darling, you look tired, have you been sleeping? Your eyes are a bit puffy, I hope you aren't getting sick. You let me know if you need anything OK?" Her mothering tendencies were coming out, making him chuckle beside her. He hadn't really noticed what his mother was pointing out. He knew she wasn't criticizing Emma, more just being concerned but he didn't see it. Emma looked lovely.

"I'm fine, I've just been busy. It will be good to be home," she answered, Killian's internal lie detector going off, but he wasn't going to bring it up now. He made himself a promise though, to get to the bottom of Emma's sadness.

"Well, we are glad you're here. Killian, how are you dear?" his mother asked, finally paying attention to her actual child, pulling him into an embrace similar to the one she gave Emma.

"I'm fine mom, just a bit tired. The flight was long," he added, hoping to distract his mother from questioning Emma more.

"I'm sure it was," she said in response, her eyes darting quickly between the two.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Jones, but do you know where my mother is?" Emma interjected, looking around the area with a small frown on her face.

"Oh yes, we had breakfast this morning. She is so very excited to have both of her children back in the house," his mother began, and Killian knew he was in for a story. His mother never explained something quickly. "She was telling me about your flight when I got a call from Killian telling me he was coming home. Of course, I was so excited to hear my son would be back under our roof. We then found out that you two were on the same plane, so I offered to pick the both of you up. Your mother jumped at the opportunity, she has just so much on her plate with Henry's party, with your homecoming, with the event next week for the DAR, plus your father's retirement party coming up. So, she is at home getting dinner ready and I am here."

Killian started to feel angry towards the story. Of course, he would never be upset with his mother. The woman was always willing to go above and beyond for anyone, anytime. His mother always put her family first, always dropped everything to do something for her kids. Emma's mother however, always seemed preoccupied with other things. Parties were Emma's mother's thing. In fact, Killian could remember Emma telling him stories of her mother passing on important life milestones of Emma's because of a party. He looked at her and saw her face fall as his mother finished her story. While Emma didn't get along well with her mother, he knew she must have been looking forward to someone from her actual family picking her up.

His mother must have felt her disappointment, because she reached over to grab Emma's hand and give it a squeeze.

"She really did want to be here sweetie, but she wants to make sure everything at home is perfect for you. Come, let's get your bags and get you home. Besides, Evie is waiting in the car," his mother said, coaxing a slight smile out of Emma.

----------

Standing next to his mother's BMW was his sister. Aibhilin Jones was a force to be reckoned with, just like his mother. While not technically his sister, his parents adopted her fifteen years ago when she was four. She was really his cousin, her mother being his father's sister. Both of her parents passed away in a car accident in Ireland, leaving Evie an orphan. Thankfully, his parents stepped in and took the young girl in. Her traditional Irish name was difficult for most Americans to say properly but Emma corrected it quickly, giving her the nickname everyone called her to this day.

His sister was one year older than Emma's brother and looked up to Emma. When she saw Emma walking towards the car, his sister let out a shriek that could probably break glass, flinging herself into Emma's arms.

"Evie, I've missed you!" Emma exclaimed, pulling the girl into her arms.

"Thank God you're home Emma, this place is utterly boring without you. Why did you have to leave me for so long?" she whined as Killian loaded their luggage into the trunk of the vehicle, inwardly cursing that his mom couldn't have borrowed the Nolan's large SUV.

As the girls caught up, Killian was having a hard time not thinking about what happened on the plane. Every time Emma moved, his mind turned perverted, especially remembering the way she felt under his hands. How was he supposed to sit in the back seat with her for the ride home? Sitting in the front was out of the question, as his sister always sat in the front seat, having horrible motion sickness if she sat in the back. He knew his mother would never let him drive, which was probably a good thing. However, he really didn't want to be confined with Emma in the tight back seat. Well, he did, but not in this situation. Not with his mother and sister in the front seat.

"Hey brother," his sister finally said to him.

"Hey squirt." He knew she hated the American term that big brothers sometimes lovingly used towards little sisters, but it was their little joke. She quickly hugged him, placing a quick kiss to his cheek. They weren't as close as Evie had been with Emma, but he loved his little sister dearly.

The back of the car became increasingly muggy as they drove the short five miles to the Nolan residence. Even though their parents lived five miles from the airport, the traffic in Northern Virginia was almost as bad as LA and took 30 minutes to get there.

He could smell her perfume as they sat there. She had freshened up as they left the plane and he hadn't noticed the scent before. Now though, the smell of strawberries accosted his senses. There was something else in her perfume, or wipes, whatever she used, but it was almost as intoxicating as the kiss they shared.

His mind couldn't help but wander back to their kiss on the plane. He couldn't help but reminisce about her lips on his, the slight moan that escaped when he became aggressive. He was having the hardest time forgetting the feel of her skin under his touch. He was craving the touch of hers too. He wanted to pull her close, to wrap his arms around her, to make everything better. If that meant kissing the pain away, then he would do it. Yet while he knew it would be unwelcome in that moment, he couldn't help but daydream about it.

There was construction on the one, so every time a bump in the road was hit, they touched and it set him on fire. He was having a hard time not leaving his hand on her leg, as he kept having to put it there to steady himself every time his mother hit an unfriendly pothole. The electricity buzzed in the air every time his mom hit a corner and their legs would brush against each other.

These next three weeks would surely be the death of him, but in that moment, while he sat next to her, smelling her sweet scent and admiring her fine features, he didn't mind. He would never mind, as long as it meant Emma was near him and he could get his fix.

[imsvg]

engraved

Fandom: Love Live! Sunshine!! Pairing: YouHane (You/Yoshiko (or Yohane) Summary:  In which You and Yoshiko go to the beach. Words: 1633 Links: FF is here! AO3 is here!

Yoshiko hated beaches.

What the hell was there to even like on beaches? The beach was dry, sand was everywhere, there was an infinite source of water that she couldn’t even drink from, and yet, people still loved the aspect of going to the beach for whatever reason.

And You happened to be one of those people.

“I still don’t understand why we have to go to the beach,” Yoshiko whined as she laid under the umbrella, spread-eagle. She didn’t dare to move; she felt unbearably sluggish and gross, and the only time she moved was to either go to the bathroom or get a bottle of cold water from the nearby snack shack.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Yoshiko-chan!” You gave that cheery laugh of hers, and for a moment, Yoshiko felt a sudden urge to punch her. “The beach is fun!”

“That’s what you think,” Yoshiko scoffed with a roll of her eyes.

“It’s what I think because it’s a fact.”

Now Yoshiko really wanted to punch her.

“Please,” Yoshiko began with a sarcastic bite, “explain to me this fact.”

“Well, one, you get to be out in the sun! And play in the water! And there’s so much you can do in the sand! Like, you know, build castles and stuff. Let your imagination run wild, you know?”

“Wow, never would have thought.”

“And you get to have so much fun with friends on the shore! Like, even if you can’t swim, you can still enjoy being in the water, you know? You can walk along the shore, and let the ocean cool you down!”

“I love hypothermia.”

“And the entire day just becomes this whole memory you never, ever forget,” You said, her tone suddenly turning warm. Any sarcastic remark Yoshiko was ready to spit out died on her tongue as she stayed quiet, waiting for You to continue.

When You didn’t say anything, Yoshiko quietly asked, “That so?”

You nodded, then said, “I’ve made a lot of happy memories here. A lot of them were with Chika-chan and Kanan-chan, but there are some with Pops when he came home. And there was that one time with Aqours, too! But now”—You turned to her and just grinned, and for a moment, Yoshiko thought she was staring straight into the sun—”I get to make memories with you over here! And what’s there not to enjoy about that?”

Blood rushed to fill Yoshiko’s cheeks, burning her skin from the inside as she stared at You with an open mouth. There was something about You and her open-hearted honesty that threw Yoshiko off, and honestly, she couldn’t tell if she hated it or loved it.

What she did know, however, was if she kept staring at You she was going to go blind.

Yoshiko quickly averted her eyes, opting to stare at the crowded beach shack in the distance. “Th-the hell? How can you say that with a straight face?”

You laughed, and Yoshiko tried to ignore how her heart jumped at the sound. “I’m just super excited, I guess. I mean, we live so close to each other, but we never really hung out together, you know? I think this is the first time we’ve been alone together.”

“…Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“So!” Yoshiko felt the blanket underneath her shift as You stood up. “Let’s go and make some memories! Just the both of us!”

Yoshiko wished that she didn’t turn her head to look at You because the early afternoon sun was directly behind her, forming a faint halo around her toned figure. And just then, as if Mother Nature decided to mock her even more, an ocean breeze ran its fingers through You’s naturally mussed hair, messing it up even more as she grinned on.

Yoshiko felt the urge to run to the shack for her third bottle of water that day.

But a gentle hand grabbed her wrist and effortlessly pulled her up. Yoshiko let out a squawk of surprise as she tried to find her balance. When she did, she realized just how damn close she was to You.

Yoshiko now felt the urge to pass out from all the blood rushing to her head.

“Let’s go to the ocean!” You says with a salute and wink. “Full steam ahead! Yoshiko!”

At least hearing her real name was enough cold water to shake her out of it.

“It’s Yohane!”

-X-

“Ah, that was super fun!” You cried out, stretching her arms over her head as she sat down. “I’m really glad that we came today! How about you, Yoshiko-chan?”

Yoshiko looked at her with a deadpan expression, her entire face bright red. “Totally.”

You burst out laughing, her laugh ringing out through the emptying beach as she clutched at her sides fighting for breath. “O-oh, I-I’m s-so—so s-sorry, Y-Yoshiko-chan,” she wheezed.

“I’m sure you are.” Sarcasm dripped from Yoshiko’s voice as she rolled her eyes. “But why me?” She asked, her voice turning into a whine. “I won’t be able to lie down for a week!”

You forced herself to stop laughing, little giggles bubbling out as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. “Oh God.” she said, her cheeks hurting from as she glanced at Yoshiko’s bright-red shoulders. “Luckily, I have ointment.”

“You have ointment?”

“Of course I have ointment,” You said as she opened her drawstring. “I need to be prepared, after all.” She took out a bottle of aloe vera oil and shook it to prove her point.

Yoshiko’s face turned an even brighter red, and You wondered if the sunburn was just got even worse.

“…Thought you were the type of person to get strung along with Chibaka’s plans without a care in the world.”

“I am,” You admitted with a laugh, “but I always made sure that Chika-chan would be fine afterwards. So I always carried bandages if she got scratched, or ointment if she got sunburnt. Still do, actually.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be Kanan’s job? Because she’s like, I don’t know, the dad of the group?” Yoshiko winced when You began to apply the oil on her skin.

“She’s like that now, but”—You sighed as a nostalgic smile crawled onto her face—”she was a complete idiot as a kid, now that I think about it.”

“Really?” Yoshiko didn’t even try to hide the surprise in her voice.

“Yeah.” You laughed before pointing out an abandoned dock in the distance. “You see that over there?”

“Yeah?”

“We used to go diving there all the time as kids. And there was this one time the water level got really high, and Kanan-chan still wanted to go swimming. Chika-chan wanted to go too, but she was scared to jump in, so Kanan-chan had to coax Chika-chan to jump down. And she did, and Kanan-chan caught her.”

“Wait, isn’t that dangerous?”

“Yeah.”

“Couldn’t they have drowned?”

“Probably.”

“Why do you sound like you’re smiling about this?” Yoshiko looked over her shoulder with a look that was a cross between concern and surprise.

“Because,” You began with a laugh, “it’s one of those memories I was talking about!”

“You keep talking about memories,” Yoshiko mumbled under her breath. “I don’t really get it.”

You hummed as she clicked the cap of the aloe vera closed. “Well, I mean, even if it’s the beach, there’s only so much that you can do, right? Even I get tired of the same-old, same-old. But when you go out here with friends, even the mundane gets really, really fun! Together with friends, whether it’s on the beach or not, that’s always fun in general! But it’s even more fun when it’s on the beach! And it’s easier to remember, you know? Because even though everything is changing around us, the ocean is one thing that won’t change. And every time you look out, you’ll think about the beach, and the beach will remind you of all the find things you’ve had.”

Yoshiko stayed quiet for a moment, her eyes drifting off into the distance as she mulled over You’s words. “Yeah,” she said after a while, “I think I get it.”

You broke into a grin. “That’s great!”

A moment of silence passed through them.

Yoshiko was the one who broke it.

“—again,” she mumbled.

You tilted her head. “I’m sorry?”

Yoshiko’s cheeks turned a bright shade of red. “I said I want to…again.”

You raised an eyebrow and her lips quirked into an amused smile. “You have to speak louder, Yoshiko-chan.”

Now Yoshiko’s cheeks were the same color as Ruby’s hair. “I said I want to come back here again! You know, to make m-memories with you! A-and it’s Yohane!”

You’s smile disappeared for a moment as she tried to process Yoshiko’s words. When she did, You felt her heart ramming itself into her ribcage, its echoes ringing in her skull. She broke into the biggest grin she could muster, the excitement of more fun times to come already pumping in her veins.

“Yeah!” She exclaimed. “Let’s have more fun together and make more memories together!”

What happened next threw You off guard. Yoshiko immediately broke into a grin, the kind where she closed her eyes. With the setting sun was directly behind her, and gave her an heavenly halo of orange and pink. Her sunburnt cheeks accentuated her charm, and her skin gave a faint glow. You felt like she wasn’t even looking at someone human anymore; she felt like Yoshiko was something else, something otherworldly.

Like—like an angel, flung out of space.

“Me too.” Yoshiko’s grin never faltered.

“I—I can’t wait,” You said.

But even as she said that, You knew that Yoshiko’s smile would be her favorite memory of all time.

i've been listening jimoto ai mantan summer life non-stop for the past two days. and i thought it was finally time to write about these two.

sorry if they seemed ooc; it's been ages since i actually managed to write and finish something.

#i write #youhane #youshiko #lls #watanabe you #yoshiko tsushima

[mrevaunit42]

Nova vs Chapter 18: This is how we do it

Hello everyone, Mr.E here and back! Thank you for everyone who likes, comments and reblogs this story. it means a lot to me

i want to apologize to those who were waiting for this. I took a month off because in all these nearly 2 years of writing (holy snap that’s next month) and the random bouts were i didn’t post, I never actually took a break. but I’m back, refreshed and ready to keep stories for you amazing people.

Here it is, the finale of the current arc thought of by my good friend @marionette-j2x who was kind enough to let me borrow her ocs *Jelina, Mary and Berry with their lord Kim* and let me write out the arc idea she came up with and a special @thefandombytes who helped me with some translations. thanks buddy, I greatly appreciate it! 

This is not the story finale so no worries, there’s still some more nova on the way. Well I am going to simply let the show get on the road cuz I know a few of you waited a long time for this so here we go.

also here’s the link to the ff page in case you want read this from the beginning or stumble upon this randomly https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11773524/1/Nova-Butterfly-vs-the-Forces-of-Adolescence

Notification Squad 

@hipster-rapunzel @isolated-frequencies @artgirllullaby 

There was a deathly silence that filled the air, a stillness that no one seemed to want to break.

Katrina stood defiant in front of the children, hammer still embedded in the ground before the shifting, almost slithering robes of the cultists, their eyes empty and lifeless.

“Do you refuse to yield?” Katrina asked, body tensed with preparation.

She knew their answer already but never hurt to make sure. Royal bodyguard she may be but she was always fair.

The cultists stared at one another, not a single word shared among them but each agreeing with the same course of action.

Together as one, they surged forward, their thick black robes moving as a singular entity and making it seem like the shadows themselves were lunging towards the group.

“Yep” Katrina muttered to herself as she kicked her weapon into her armored gauntlet, lifting the massive object without pause “That's what I thought.”

Katrina leapt into action, swirling and twisting her body around faster and faster until she was a whirling hurricane of righteous fury.

The cultists paused in their charge, sharing a concern look of regret as Katrina crashed into the frozen foes and sending several flying helplessly through the air.

Katrina was relentless in her attack: Her hammer swept droves of enemies off their feet, scattering and breaking their formation with one blow.

The closest cultists jumped onto the armored figure, trying to use their weight to slow the juggernaut but all that managed to achieve was let loose a sigh of annoyance.

Katrina effortlessly gripped a helpless cultist in her hand, rolling her eyes as she threw them as far as she could, an unseen smirking gracing her lips while the sickening crunch of his bones against the solid stones walls filled the room.

However, Katrina was but one warrior among a sea of enemies and no matter how many she held back, she could not stop them all.

Katrina reached for one of the robed figures who managed to slip under her and bolted towards the helpless children but before she could grasp his hood, another one of his comrades slammed his fist against her chest plate. While the attack had done nothing more than broke the attacker's hand, it had startled Katrina enough. Instincts took over and she turned around, instinctively grabbing head of the unlucky cultist and smashing her helmet into him, sending him reeling to the floor.

“Wait, NO!” Katrina cried but the cultists were swarming and Katrina had no time to lament her failure. She thrust her hammer outward, catching an approaching enemy in the stomach before flexing. With one mighty shove, the nearest cultists skidded the floor with an angry Katrina looming over them.

Jack was the first noticed a few of the robed figures heading their way, a small group that manged to break through Katrina's defense.

Jack wobbled to his feet, his body tired and sore from the previous battles. Two transformations a day had drained a lot out of him but he had no choice but to attempt a third.

“What I do for covy....” Jack muttered wearily.

Jack stood up straight, trying to ignore the aches in his body but before he could even take a deep breath, someone gestured at him with a strange hand sign he vaguely remembered.

“Oh crap” Jack managed to get before he sailed through the air, the dark magic taking hold over him and bringing him closer to the figure.

Jack slid across the floor, wincing in pain as he fell a few feet short of the spell caster.

“You suck!” Jack shouted angrily, struggling to get to his feet “Seriously, my lola can do magic better than you and she doesn't understand what a wiccan is!”

The hooded caster made no indication he heard the half demon. Instead, he broke into a sprint, drawing closer and closer to the helpless Jack.

Jack gripped the stone floor rightly, his claws digging into the tile as he tried to will himself up but he felt like there was a massive weight on the back of his head pushing him against the floor.

“Stop struggling, I need a steady surface.”

“YOU!” Jack snarled when he finally noticed Jelina kneeling next to him, one hand held firmly on her massive bazooka and the other square on Jack's head, planting him firmly to the ground.

“I know you don't need my help right now” Jelina explained, a hint of sarcasm hidden in her neutral voice “But could you please stay down? I need to provide covering fire if we are to escape”

“I hate you” Jack muttered quietly as Jelina began unleashing a barrage of missiles into the thickest parts of the horde.

With hand grabbing at the scuff of Jack's collar, Jelina rose to her feet, hoisting the magician in the air like he was some sort of kitten.

“I don't have a lot of ammo so keep up” Jelina told him flatly

Jack struggled, flailing his arms and legs wildly in an attempt to break free of the mechanical maiden's grip “Well put me down and I'll...”

“No time”

and without warning, Jelina broke into a full sprint, the world becoming a blur of colors that lasted only a moment before Jack found himself unceremoniously dumped next to the still embraced figures of Nova and Connor

“Alright” Jack admitted “that was pretty cool.”

“I'm afraid we have to engage the enemy” Jelina glanced towards Berry and Mary who nodded in agreement

“I forbid it” Kim chimed in defensively “You will not foolishly risk your lives.”

“But master, we...”

“You live to serve me” Kim replied, a finality to his voice “You cannot do that if you are dead.”

Before Jelina could argue, the room was filled with a pinkish purplish light that glowed softly in the darkness.

Amidst the fighting, everyone had forgotten about the still massive dimension portal lazily hovering where the ceiling once was.

The sudden shift in illumination blinded many of the combatants (except Katrina who kept wailing away on her foes unhindered.)

Nova rose her hand to shield her eyes from the glow, Connor's embrace tightening despite the warm feeling that surrounded them.

Something descended slowly. Nova could hear the light fluttering of wings approach, softly growing louder as the source of the light drew closer to her.

Nova squinted, trying her hardest to see past the blazing light.

“What is that?” Nova muttered to herself, leaning forward to get a closer look.

A little gasp escaped Nova's lips, her eyes wide with awe and wonder upon seeing through the veil of illumination.

“Mom...” she softly whispered.

Nova couldn't help but stare at her mother as the light slowly dimmed. She had never seen her mother in her Mewberty form before and despite the descriptions from varying sources, none had done the sight justice.

Her mother's normally fair skin was now tinged a deep, rich purple. Her pink, rose colored wings with fluttered gently behind her. Her long, golden blonde hair was now faded and twisted into two antenna like cones. Star wore sleek, well polished sliver battle armor that had obviously been custom made for the queen given her pair of arms were now six. Her eyes and hearts glowed with a harsh light and for once in her life Nova could feel the royal authority behind her mother.

This was the Butterfly that would not allow anyone to deny her her choice of husband. That was the Butterfly that fought tooth and nail to reunite with her beloved and daughter. That was the Butterfly who defeated Toffee and reformed an ancient dynasty, bringing unity to two warring enemies. That was the Butterfly who connected two dimensions forever.

That was Star Butterfly.

The light faded from her eyes and hearts, returning them to normal.

“Mom!” Nova cried, unable to help herself as she raced forward (with Connor supporting from behind)

She lunged at her mother, locking her arms around her tightly as tears began to pool in her eyes

“Mommy, I'm so happy you're here” Nova sniffled “I was so scared. I thought I wasn't going to see you again a-and the wand! Mom, I'm sorry I couldn't...”

Nova fell silent as Star's hand gently brushed her hair, her touch soft and affectionate while she held Nova closer.

“I'm here. Mommy's got you sweetie. You are safe. Nothing else matters.”

Nova pulled away only to find a relived smile on Star's face, her eyes warm and loving.

“Hey, what about me?” A voice called from behind Star.

“D-dad? You're here too?”

Marco scoffed in mock annoyance as he appeared from behind Star, still well dressed though now rocking another accessory in the form of a sheathed katana.

“My little girl was kidnapped! Of course I'm going to be here.” Marco rolled his eyes playfully.

Nova tackled him, hugging her father tightly while the tears flowed freely down her cheeks

“There, there angel” Marco whispered gently, patting Nova's head lovingly “It's okay. We're here.”

Marco and Star shared a look, one that brought a shiver down Nova's spine.

“OOOOOOO KATRINAKINS!”

Katrina flinched in embarrassment, ignoring the thrashing of the figure whose figure she held by the throat.

“Your majesty, did you have to call me that here? Now?”

Star gave a peppy nod as Marco ushered everyone behind himself and his wife.

“Of course. Katrina, please come back and help the children through the portal. Kim and his maids included. We will take care of this.”

Katrina's mask was indifferent but the fierce warrior's posture changed at once.

“Oh boy” Katrina muttered to the still struggling cultist “You are all in trouble now”

Katrina smashed the figure against the ground and jumped high into the air, effortlessly landing next to Star and Marco in a single leap.

“Okay kids time to go!” Katrina instructed, hoisting Connor by the scuff and tossing him through the massive portal

Connor flailed wildly for a moment before landing on the Diaz's living floor with a muted thud.

Nova stayed back though close to Katrina who now was arguing with Kim about how much trouble he was in.

“In, now” Katrina snarled

“we refuse” Jelina shot back, the trio of mechanical maidens standing between the towering monster and their demon lord.

“I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice. You are under suspicion of conspiracy of kidnapping the princess and if I have to take you by force, I will.”

“Wow” Berry chimed in, thoroughly impressed “that sounds bad. Really bad.”

“Ugh, who cares” Mary crossed her arms “We're not going with you.”

“Our master has done nothing wrong. We refuse to comply with your request” jelina added in

“Ladies”

The trio turned to Kim who gestured them to remain calm

“I will go with you”

“Master!” The maids cried out indignantly

Kim raised his hand and they fell silent at once

“My maids will accompany me of course” Kim went on “I will go with you willingly though I suspect you to be honest in your findings.”

Katrina gave a curt nod “We just need to verify if you were working alone or of your own free will. Nothing more.”

Kim nodded “I agree to your terms, shall we?”

Katrina picked up Kim with one hand and the fuming maids in the other, placing them carefully on the floor away from the portal

Sol stared at the demonic overlord and the brightly colored maids that suddenly appeared in his home.

“Whoa” Sol nodded “I'm going to need more cookies” and promptly raced into the kitchen to get snacks for their guests.

Marco drew his katana, tossing the sheath into the portal and onto the couch.

Star took a step forward. There were still dozens upon dozens of cultists despite the countless groaning bodies that littered the floor.

Star took a deep, calming breath. She closed her eyes, imagining a peaceful relaxing field in Mewni she was so fond of.

Marco braced himself, hands covering his ears.

Star's eyes snapped open, her grin bending into a bone chilling smirk.

The cultists fidgeted nervously, their self preservation instincts screaming at them to run for the door.

“So.” Star spoke gently, her gaze scanning the sea of fabric that stood before her “YOU TRIED TO KIDNAP MY LITTLE GIRL!?”

Star's voice boomed with an unearthly volume, shaking the hooded figures externally and internally.

Despite their stoic, inhuman nature, they shuddered at the sound of pure anger laced within the mother's tone.

Star hadn't even waited for a response.

She gestured outward with a single hand and before faster than anyone could anticipate, ribbons of pink energy collided with several cultist chests, sending them crashing into those fortunate enough not to blasted by the righteous fury of Mewni's queen.

Silence as the world seemed to slow, Star's fingers smoking in the stillness

With a screeching battle cry, the figures that remained standing raced forward, hoping to overwhelm the Mewman with their sheer numbers.

Marco rolled his eyes, strolling past Star to place himself between the horde and his wife.

“Marco sweetie” Star cooed lovingly

“Yes honey?”

“Save some for me, will you?”

Marco a gave short nod as he held his katana at his side.

One poor soul made the unfortunate decision to lunge at Marco, thinking it was the most brilliant idea he ever had.

Marco smirked, swinging the flat of his blade against the mid-air foe who tumbled to the floor face first, his nose breaking with a sickening crunch.

Marco charged forward, pushing deep into the crowd while his sword blurred about his body with inhuman speed

Cultists fell at his feet, clutching the various body parts Marco struck achingly, thick, nasty looking bruises already forming.

Marco slashed towards a line of approaching hooded figures and with a flick of his wrists, pieces of hair fell gently to the floor, their owners clutching at their heads fearfully as they backed away from the king.

“got you!” Someone cried from behind, leaping onto Marco's back and attempting to trap him in a hold “Surrender or...”

Crack.

The figure stumbled backwards, a river of crimson leaking from his nose. Marco swiftly turned about and drove the hilt of his katana into the attacker's forehead.

He crumpled to the floor motionless at his feet.

The cultists were giving Marco a wide berth now, surrounding him a very loose circle.

“Look, I just want to go home” Marco told them, motioning with his weapon casually “Just back off and this won't hurt. Well it will hurt but it won't hurt as much as if you make me take you down. What I mean to say the ratio of pain is lessened if you just give up”

“Marco! Stop mathing at them and kick their butts” Star yelled

“You are but a man!”

“But I'm not” a voice called from the door way and stepping out of the shadows was Tom who was as impeccably dressed as Marco.

Marco waved cheerfully with his sword “Oh hey Tom! What brings you here?”

“I figured we could speed this along. Got word that Kim is not a board member and thus fair game. Hey, are we still meeting up for bowling?”

“Totally” Marco nodded in agreement “But this is getting boring. Let's wrap thing up.

“Boring?!” The cultists cried out indignantly but their groans of complaint grew into whimpers of fear as Tom's trio of eyes glowed with a blood red hue.

The CEO of the Underworld grew in size, his limbs and body elongating to an impossible length. his entire form changed, growing and growing as his muscles budged outward ripping the fabric of his shirt. His nails grew and glimmer with a razor sharpness. Glowing orange demonic runes were scrawled every inch of his body as his horns bent and curved backwards, twisting in a tight loop. Flames spread across the normally clean shaven face of the demon until a thick, burning beard made of pure fire crackled against his skin.

Tom let out a roar that shook the very foundation of the world before reaching for a hooded figure, easily plucking him from the sea of his comrades despite his struggling.

Tom swept outward, knocking rows of the cultists to the floor as Marco sprang into action, driving his hilt and flat of his blade into every forehead he could find.

Star took to the skies, bombarded the unlucky souls below with multicolored narwhals, ribbons of concussive force and bright pink gumballs of energy.

Nova watched in awe as the numerous enemies dwindled rapidly before her eyes.

Nova shifted guiltily at the sight of her parents

“They really are amazing.....” She mumbled sadly to herself.

Star waved with a free hand and at her command swirls of pink energy formed at the cultists feet,  spinning faster and faster with a reckless abandon before forming into a thick, powerful pink tornado that swallowed entire figures whole and trapped them in an endless cycle.

Several figures attempted to leap at Tom all at once in hopes of somehow overwhelming the demonic lord but Tom swiped them out of the air, sending them crashing against the solid stone floor before giving them a good punt outside the door.

Marco ducked and weaved through the hooded figures, expertly attacking any cultists who was foolish enough to try and stop him, making sure to give some warning cuts to some clothing for good measure

“That is pretty terrifying” Connor called to Nova, his green eyes wide with awe “I've never seen your parents fight before.”

“I've never seen mom transform before.” Nova replied in a stun awe.

“What is going on here?!” A new voice called from the Diaz household.

The fighting stopped at once with no one sure why exactly everyone had paused.

There was a dull thud as someone fell through the portal into the underworld, the darkness of the room against the illumination from the setting sun on Earth basked the person in a shadowy silhouette

“JACK!” A motherly whine called out and before the young half demon knew it, he found himself trapped in a familiarly tight embrace.

“MOM!” Jack cried out in embarrassment, much to his horror “What are you doing here?! AND STOP TRYING TO KILL ME!”

“How dare you run off to the Underworld without telling me?” Janna scolded, grabbing and pulling on her son's ear “Hmm? What were you thinking?”

“Oww, OWW! sinusubukan ko lang makatulong sa aking mga kaibigan!”

“Really?” Janna peered closer “AND YOU RUINED YOUR CLOTHES?!”

“MOM!” Jack whimpered helplessly

“Don't you mom me!” Janna frowned “I worked very hard to make you those clothes and you can't even keep them cleaned?!”

“I was in the Underworld mom! It's kinda hard to....”

“Excuses” Janna cut in.

“Umm...” Connor said calmly “is this really....?”

“Yep” Nova confirmed, her gaze never leaving mother and son “It's happening”

“and YOU”

A cultist froze as Janna pointed directly towards him, inching closer and closer with a blind rage in her stance.

“M-me?” The cultist stammered

Janna gave him a quizzically stare before punching him straight in the jaw and sending tumbling to the floor.

“not you” Janna scoffed before turning furiously at the towering Tom “YOU”

“Me?” Tom gestured helplessly to himself “Wait, what?”

“You let our son...”

“Mom, it's not...”

“... go on a dangerous rescue mission to the underworld.”

“Wait, Janna it's not like...”

“AND DIDN'T TELL ME?”

Tom taken aback “He just showed up on my doorstep! I didn't really have time to call you.”

“Did you at least give him the armor?”

“He's wearing it sweetie”

“And did you at least walk him here?”

“Janna I couldn't just.....”

Janna shook her head disappointingly “We'll talk about this later.”

Janna turned to face the few cultists that remained and told them in a low, dangerous whisper “get out.”

The cultists shared a surprised look with one another. Was this woman really expecting to...

One of the hooded figures jumped as a battle ax suddenly embedded itself in the floor, barely missing his arm by an inch or so.

Janna leaned in closer, hilt of the weapon still in her hand “I said go.”

The cultist opened his mouth to reply when he felt something warm tickling down his arm. He glanced to find a piece of his robe had been cut off and something red trickling down his arm.

The cultist fled at once, tripping and falling over their fallen in their race to escape.

Silence overtook the room once again before shattered by a loving, excited “JANNA BANANA!”

Janna barely braced herself in time for Star sudden hug attack, the queen of Mewni wrapping her arms tightly around her deputy mayor while bouncing up and down (Luckily she had returned to her normal Mewman form)

“Hey Star” Janna greeted in a lazy drawl, patting Star's back in a friendly manner “Been a while.”

“it has!” Star pouted “You have to tell me how it went in Paris. Tell me tell me tell me!”

“Star” Janna raised a hand to stop the mayor's pawing “Kids”

“Don't worry Katrina's got them buuuut we better go. We need to close the giant portal we left in the ceiling.”

“So...” Tom coughed, slowly approaching his wife “You look...”

“Yes I look good and yes I'm still mad. Come on hothead”

Nova felt strange sense of disconnection just sitting in the living room next to Jack and Connor despite being trapped with a demon's manor just moments before. The adults stood around them in a loose formation, talking about life and things that occurred since the last time they saw each other but Nova could feel the worry roll off of them, their gazes protective yet relaxed though it's probably the several massive Mewman knights standing at every possible entrance into the house, at the ready.

Katrina was sitting on the floor, laughing at Sol who was eagerly trying on her helmet despite the fact it was several times too big and span freely on his head.

“Everything is so normal” Nova said cautiously “ like nothing happened.”

“I know right?” Connor added in, eying his surroundings carefully.

Jack shrugged indifferently “This isn't our parents first battle.”

Nova thought back to her mother's Mewberty form, how majestic and powerful she had been.

“...yeah....”

Marco carefully approached the children, giving a reassuring smile “You guys okay?”

They all gave a nod

“So how many days were we gone?” Connor asked curiously

Marco scratched his chin thoughtfully “about 4 hours?”

“Four hours?! SERIOUSLY?!”

“Yeah, it's still Thursday”

Connor sunk into the couch in disbelief before wincing in pain.

“Connor!” Jack and Nova cried out in surprise.

“I'm fine” Connor tried to wave off their concern but he could the knowing glint of Mr. Diaz's eye

“Ah, first major battle huh? Probably got bruised pretty nicely”

“Connor!” Nova scolded.

“I'll be fine”

“Nova, bandage him up”

Nova sighed dramatically “C'mon Connor.”

Connor stayed still

Jack raised an eyebrow “I will carry you”

Connor shot to his feet at once, allowing the magical princess to lead him to the bathroom.

Connor sat there silently, trying his hardest not to flinch as Nova smoothed out the wrappings around his shirtless chest, her cold hands and the swelling of his bruises making it difficult to sit still.

Nova's face was bright red and she spent as much time as she could staring away from Connor.

“H-hey, you got muscles now?” Nova commented offhandedly

“I-I guess?” Connor coughed “I mean I just invent...but I guess some of the pieces are pretty heavy....”

“R-right....”

Awkward silence fell over the teens who were determined to just get this over with.

“....I'm...sorry....”

“Huh?” Connor turned around only to found Nova staring at him, tears in her eyes.

“This happened because I wasn't strong enough.....my own parents had to come and get me....”

“Nova? I don't...”

“I'm no Butterfly” she muttered sadly “I couldn't even fight off a stupid demon.”

“HE'S NOT STUPID” The trio of maids shouted back.

“You know what my mom did when she was my age? SHE SAVED MY DAD WHEN HE WAS KIDNAPPED BY TOFFEE! I COULDN'T EVEN....”

Nova stopped as Connor held her closely

“Nova, you're okay. Everything's okay. That's all that matters.”

Nova cried freely, wrapping her arms gently best friend.

Connor stroked Nova's hair softly, letting out a relived sigh.

Everything was okay.

Nova trudged her way to her bed after her mother decided it was best for the young ones to sleep. She threw off her father's hoodie and sat at the edge of her bed, preparing to head to sleep. Her father decided it was best if they all stayed home tomorrow given how chaotic today was.

She sighed deeply, holding her mother's devil headband gingerly in her hands.

What kind of princess was she? Not even a month with the wand and she was already kidnapped and endangering everyone. Who knows what could've happened if Connor and Jack hadn't came to save her or her parents failed to reach them in time.

Connor and Jack were asleep downstairs which brought her some small comfort but the failure of her duty gnawed at her entire being.

And as she tried to drift off to sleep, tossing and turning in her bed, all she could think of  is how horrible she was at being a magical princess.

Maybe the nobles were right. Maybe she was no heir to Mewni.

#Nova vs #my story #I'm BACK!

[seriouscuttervoice]

Apotheosis

Fandom: Mystic Messenger/Death Note (Crossover)

Characters: Rem, V

Links: AO3 | FF | Next Chapter

Summary: A few years after Rem sacrifices herself to save Misa, she's reborn as a human: Jihyun Kim.

Notes: This is the prologue for a multi-chapter fic. [See the end for more notes].

Prologue | Rebirth

The tears streaming down her face are tangible, and that’s Rem’s first realization when she feels hands under her body lifting her up, small arms flailing. She can’t see anything; it’s the opposite of darkness but that never made a difference to Rem before, discerning eyes always able to make sense of her surroundings. Now there’s nothing but the sound of foreign voices, drowned out by her own cries.

She was ugly as a shinigami; gel oozing from her head that Misa once referred to as hair, as though anything of the human world could be flippantly applied to a shinigami without a second thought. The tall body of bones made Rem look as though she’d cobbled herself together from the spoils of a shinigami gamble, held together by swathes of grey like a corpse. The pink of her lips and face, the necklace and earrings she’d found and attached to her form, seemed only to mock her for her efforts. But everything about her now is soft, skeleton cushioned in flesh and smooth skin, and the person holding Rem breathes, “beautiful,” as she hands her to another human, a word Rem never imagined could be used to describe her.

The human woman says her name is Jihyun, and from then on everything is different.

Rem’s first urge is to find Misa, but this body is limiting, small, its motions awkward and imprecise. Rem has never had to learn to maneuver herself before; she doesn’t remember how she came into existence in the shinigami world but she’s sure if floating were so arduous a process as dragging a tiny hand up to form a gesture is she wouldn’t have forgotten. Every human she’s come into contact with is large, so much larger than she is, only able to feel out fractions of them with her fingers where once she towered over them all, watched them from above instead of far below. She doesn’t cry much, and her parents note how quickly Jihyun goes quiet once he’s been provided with any sustenance he needs, sobs serving only as an unsophisticated venue for communication because he can’t yet form words. The need for any sustenance at all is another new experience; Rem can recall with detail in her mind answering the detective’s question about it by saying shinigami don’t need to eat food, but now she can hardly get enough of it, and still longs after it even when her small stomach is full. Sleep is worse, though—she dreams every night and always of Misa, the fair-haired girl who thought she could be close to God, lost and wandering and potentially in danger without Rem to protect her. Rem doesn’t know what other humans dream of, but if theirs carry this much weight as well she doesn’t know how they can bear it.

Jihyun’s parents are concerned about what they dub “insomnia” and debate taking him to see a doctor, but the plans to do so are never realized, as many of their plans aren’t. His mother is a painter, and his father sits very still with Jihyun in his lap while she recreates their likenesses on canvas, commenting every so often that Jihyun is a more patient model than his father is. Rem is uncertain that patience is an appropriate quality to ascribe to her, but in the shinigami world it’s not unheard of for one to sit still for hundreds of years, so in some capacity she understands.

What’s stranger than that is being called a model. Misa was one, and a popular one at that, though Rem doesn’t remember ever seeing someone paint her. People called Misa beautiful—angelic, even—and she was, or as close to the human concept of angels as possible anyway. Only Rem got to see her in her private life, exhausted from standing for hours for photos, her hair splayed out around her on the bed. It was blonde like no colour Rem knew in the shinigami world in all its mute darkness. Misa screamed the first time she saw Rem, terrified to be in the presence of a monster so hideous, so inhuman. Now people squeal when they see Jihyun, cooing over him in his mother’s arms and remarking on how he’s already so handsome. His eyes receive the most compliments, as well as his soft and fast-growing dark hair, and his parents are told that his skin seems to glow, the picture of health and youth. Rem is flustered by the attention but tries to receive it with grace, though it feels misplaced, like it’s not meant for her at all… and perhaps it isn’t. After all, what purpose could there be to her resurrection? Rem fully anticipated to die for Misa, watched her body flake away into the same glittering substance she saw Gelus crumble into in the shinigami world. Rem doesn’t know if Gelus returned to life as well, in the form of a human or otherwise, and with no way of identifying him it’ll be close to impossible to find out even if she tries. As for Misa… Rem knows when Misa’s death was set to occur before she killed the detective, but it’s difficult to say what number of years was added to Misa’s lifespan after Rem’s sacrifice.

Becoming attached to Misa and breaking the laws of the shinigami to save her made Rem a failure to her purpose, and indeed to her own existence. However, living now as a human child in the human world, Rem no longer knows what her purpose is. If Misa is still alive, Rem may have been resurrected to protect her once more. In this state, though, Rem is much weaker than Misa, and considering Misa’s short lifespan prior to Rem’s death and the fact Rem hadn’t killed many people in her final years, by the time Jihyun becomes strong enough to protect her Misa could already be dead.

Despite her clumsiness in mastering the human tongue, Jihyun’s parents are surprised with how quickly he learns to speak, and impressed again by his ease in learning to read before he’s even entered school. He’s not necessarily extraordinary for a human his age, but he’s certainly ahead of other children in these respects. Writing, though, is another matter entirely. Of all the skills that humans learn, Rem expected this would come the most naturally, but as if by some cosmic joke for her failure to use the Death Note correctly, she can hardly write. Her hand shakes, the pencil refuses to steady, and no matter how carefully she scrutinizes a character to copy it, the symbols are indiscernible. Typing is easier, and as soon as Jihyun has learned to type, his parents give him free rein to peruse the Internet, leaving him alone in the living room with what they call a tablet (and what, by Rem’s knowledge of the human world, is decidedly nothing like what she knows a tablet to be) to entertain himself while they attend to their personal affairs. Misa once described the Internet as scary, filled with information that can be damning, but Jihyun’s parents don’t seem concerned, and Rem can carefully press the name of the one she fell for into a search bar, her own human heart pounding in her chest.

Misa Amane.

She touches enter, and the first things to appear are small photos of Misa’s face across the top of the page. In almost all of them she has a sweet smile across her lips, energy in her eyes that are as blue as Jihyun’s in these photos, though that isn’t Misa’s real eye colour. She’s exactly as Rem remembers her, and she feels her throat tighten when she realizes she even remembers being there when at least one of these were taken.

Only one thing about Misa has changed, and that’s that, for the first time ever, Rem can’t see her lifespan. The red floating characters and string of numbers above Misa’s head were always a constant, a reminder that no matter what Rem does she can only delay Misa’s death, not stop it. Now there’s nothing but Misa and her bright expressions, Misa and her beauty untainted by the reminder of death, as though she might live forever.

Rem’s hand wavers a moment, tempted to look at more photos, to see if there are any where Misa looks older than she was when Rem left her, but she tears her eyes away from them. There is something she yet still must know, and Rem learned well from watching Misa the dangers of deluding oneself in love. Misa could never be eternal, but with Rem no longer a shinigami, that Misa at least survived is her only hope for meaning in this life.

Rem clicks on the article and holds her breath as the page loads, a foolish and whispered plea dying on her lips.

Misa Amane (弥 海砂, Amane Misa, born December 25, 1984 – died February 14, 2011) was a Japanese fashion model and actress.

The tears streaming down her face are tangible, and that’s when Rem first realizes she truly has become human.

Notes: This was inspired by AUs where Light becomes a shinigami after death, the argument being that his use of the death note during his life makes him essentially shinigami in function. I'm taking that argument and applying it to shinigami who fail their purpose, extending the life of a human instead of shortening it. Such shinigami are humanlike in their attachment to a human life, so if we're following the rule that a death note user becomes a shinigami in death, why not extend that to shinigami and have them become human in death?

As for Rem reincarnating specifically into V, on my last rewatch of Death Note I found myself continuously drawing parallels between the two characters, and thought it might be interesting to recontextualize V with this in mind.

Right now, the fic is more heavily focused on Rem's past life, but this chapter is a prologue and the focus (and naming and pronouns) will shift to be more centered on V's life soon.

I know the concept for this is pretty out there, but I hope it interests a few people.

#Death Note #Mystic Messenger #Rem #V #Jihyun Kim #crossover #fanfiction #my writing #apotheosis #vvelp here we go!

[lastbluetardis]

And Babies Make Five and Six (12/16)

Summary: Sometimes the things we want the most stay just out of reach. But after an extra helping of heartache as they try for a third baby, James and Rose are blessed with double the joy. Triggers for infertility.

Author’s Notes: Oh look... I’ve added another expected chapter to the total. Ah well. Enjoy! And I’ve pretty much got the rest of this story written, so I’m hoping to have a new chapter posted each week from here on out.

Betaed by the marvelous @chocolatequeennk. This is also for @doctorroseprompts because it’s Doctor x Rose.

Ten x Rose AU

This chapter: NSFW, 7100 words

Ages of the Tyler-McCrimmons at the start of the chapter: James: 37, Rose: 32, Ainsley: 7, Sianin: 4

AO3 | TSP | FF | Perfectly Matched Series

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14 | Ch15 | Ch16

James felt Rose shifting beside him. He blinked open his eyes, feeling the grittiness of sleep lingering in them, and saw that the room was still nearly dark. When he thought she would slip closer to him and they would sleep a little longer tangled together, her weight left the bed and she strode into their ensuite.

He drifted back to sleep, assuming her warm body would be pressed up next to his soon enough, but it never did.

When he awoke next, it was to the pipes clanking as the shower turned off. The weak morning light glowing from the window told him he’d slept for another hour or two since Rose first awoke.

James sat up in bed and saw Rose’s running clothes pooled on the floor by the hamper. Scrubbing his fingertips into his eyes, he reached for his phone to check the time.

Half a dozen text messages were waiting for him, all of them from Donna. A sinking sensation settled in his stomach, and his unease was confirmed when he opened the messaging app and was immediately greeted by a pink-faced newborn in a white and blue striped blanket.

His ears seemed to ring as he looked into the fat, squished face of the baby boy. Joshua Lee, according to the words under the photo. Baby Joshua was tucked in Donna’s arms, fast asleep. She looked positively exhausted, but was wearing a smile he’d never seen on her face before. Lee was perched on the bed beside her, his eyes red from the tears James was all too familiar with.

His chest ached at the memory of the wonder and awe he’d felt the first time he’d seen Ainsley and Sianin. The first time he’d held them. He’d thought he’d never seen a more beautiful child, and he’d been overwhelmed with the love he felt for his new baby. Their bodies were so fragile in his arms, and he’d known he would do anything to keep them safe.

Jealousy sank its claws into his chest, sharp and cold, as a flash of hatred shot through James.

It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair!

He so badly wanted what Donna and Lee had. He wanted a new baby with Rose. He wanted to see her belly grow round as their baby grew. He wanted to rest his hands on her baby bump and feel the signs of the life they’d made beneath his palms as their baby kicked and squirmed. He wanted to cry tears of joy as he held his child for the first time. Kissed their soft, sweet skin. Smelled that fresh baby scent.

He wanted.

“James?”

He realized he was staring at his blank phone screen, lost to the numbness and agony spreading through his body. His eyes burned as he lifted his gaze to Rose.

“Oh, James.”

A moment later, Rose sat beside him on the bed and wrapped her arms around him, hauling him close to her. He tucked his face into her shoulder, breathing her in, but his throat closed up the longer she held him until he let out a ragged sob.

“Breathe, love,” she murmured, stroking her fingers through his hair. “Breathe. It’s all right.”

“I’m sorry,” he rasped.

“No, James. You have nothing to be sorry for.” She hugged him tighter and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “I felt the same way when I woke up and saw the texts.”

“I feel stupid,” he whispered. “I knew she was due soon. I knew I’d get this text, and yet…”

“It caught you off guard,” Rose murmured, her voice gentle and understanding.

“I feel like an arse, too,” he admitted. “I should be happy for Donna and Lee. And I should feel so happy and blessed because we’ve already got two wonderful, perfect, beautiful kids. And yet…”

He trailed off helplessly, but Rose nodded. She carded her fingers through his hair for a few silent seconds before she said, “Can I admit something to you? I’ve felt like a shitty mum for wanting more than two kids. I would feel guilty for being so upset that I wasn’t pregnant. It felt like I was saying Ainsley and Sianin weren’t enough. And I hated myself for that. I still hate myself sometimes for it. I love them both so much, and of course they’re enough. So I would keep telling myself I was perfectly content with my life as it was. But then I’d get my period and I’d be upset I wasn’t pregnant, and the cycle began again. Over and over.”

James gave her a soft, reassuring squeeze.

“You’re not a shitty mum,” James said. “Unless I’m a shitty dad for thinking the same thing. I talked to my dad about it some last year. About how conflicted I felt. He said he’d felt the same thing when he and Mum realized I was going to be their only child. He told me that feeling the urge to have more children doesn’t mean erasing the joy that our current children bring us.”

Rose sighed into his hair. “It’s hard sometimes. I want to be happy with just having two children. I really, really want to be okay with that. And some days it feels like I’ve made my peace with it. Then there are days when it seems like I will always have this bitterness.”

“I feel the same. And I think that’s okay. It’s okay for us to be upset and disappointed, because this is a huge thing that affects the rest of our lives,” he said quietly, finally pulling back to look at her. Her eyes were dry, but a little red, as if they’d welled with tears but she’d forced them back. “We’re grieving. Perhaps not in the most traditional sense, but nevertheless, I think we need to let ourselves feel whatever we’re feeling so that we can process it and begin to move forward again.”

Rose cracked a small smile.

“I think you missed your calling as a therapist,” she teased.

“Nah,” he said. “I couldn’t deal with this on a daily basis. I talk too much and sometimes don’t listen well enough.”

“You do with me,” she said.

“Because I am emotionally invested in your well-being,” he said. “I want to listen to you and make you feel better, and hold you when I can’t.”

“Yeah, hugging your clients would probably be against the rules,” Rose agreed, burying her face into his neck.

“And they’re probably not too keen on shagging the clients, either,” he mused. “There’s got to be some sort of conflict of interest.”

She laughed against his skin, and he smiled in response.

They held each other for a few more minutes, not saying anything, just enjoying their intimate embrace. As James idly stroked his fingers up and down her spine, he realized she’d donned one of his shirts.

“I can buy you shirts in my size, y’know,” he drawled, bringing up their old argument.

“I like wearing your shirts because they smell like you, and you know it,” she shot back, giving him a playful shove at his shoulder.

“I still dunno how. It’s fresh from the laundry. Our clothes should smell the same.”

“Well, they don’t. If you could squeeze into one of my shirts, you’d realize.”

“Is that a challenge?” James asked, pulling back to look at her. “Or an insult about my weight?”

“Oh, shut up,” Rose giggled, smacking him on the shoulder. “You’re the skinniest bloke I’ve ever met. You’ve just got a bigger chest than me.”

James let his eyes wander down to her breasts. He cocked his head to the side and stared blatantly as he said, “I’m not sure that’s a compliment, love.”

Rose laughed again, and the sound was music to his ears after the conversation they’d had.

“You know what I mean,” she said, and she brought her hands up to rest at his pecs. Goosebumps broke out across his skin as she rubbed her palms across them. “You’ve got a broad chest for such a thin man. The first time I saw you without your shirt, it took me by surprise.”

“A good surprise though, right?” he asked, though he knew the answer. In addition to her odd attraction with his forearms, he knew Rose loved his chest.

She rolled her eyes in reply and dropped her hands. It took everything he had not to whimper pathetically. He was appeased when she leaned forward and pressed a feather-soft kiss to his lips, a kiss of comfort and love.

“I think you are the sexiest, most beautiful man in the world,” she whispered, nudging her nose against his. “And I’m the luckiest woman in the world to have you as mine.”

His heart stuttered through a few beats and a giggle rose up his throat. He felt as though his body could burst apart with how loved and happy he was.

“I love that sound,” she said, smiling tenderly. She pressed a parting kiss to his lips and stood up off the bed.

He watched her walk away, enjoying the subtle spring to her step. When she moved to close their bedroom door behind her, she flashed him a wide grin and said, “I’ll put the coffee on for you,” before the door snicked shut and her soft footfalls disappeared down the hall.

She looked so happy, despite the start their morning got off to, and he found that her mood was infectious. Letting out a little hum of utter contentment, James tossed back the sheets and stood up to start the day with him beautiful family.

oOoOo

They spent the rest of the summer working through all of their home decorating projects and spending time together, both with and without their kids. By the time summer drew to a close, every room in the house had been repainted, and they’d replaced a majority of the furniture in the house. They’d donated their old couch, recliners, and their bed frame to a second-hand shop and admired the new pieces that were free of the stains that came with raising kids.

Furniture shopping had been a fun day out, as they flopped and bounced on couches, recliners, and mattresses to test their comfort. They’d upscaled their bed from queen-sized to king-sized, and they got a larger couch as well, a sectional that could comfortably seat six people. They got a new area rug to better complement the charcoal gray sofa and olive-green walls, and they replaced the coffee table, too.

They were pleased that all of the furniture lasted an entire month stain-free, and they couldn’t help but laugh that James was the one who created the first mess.

“Ah, shit,” he hissed as his coffee mug accidentally tilted in his lap from where he’d precariously perched it to turn a page in his book.

“Daddy said a bad word!” Sianin sang as Rose sprang up from the seat to grab towels.

“I know I did,” he growled, grabbing tissues to soak up the coffee on the cushions. He unthinkingly set the mug on the new coffee table and swore again when he saw dribbles of coffee slide down the mug and onto the polished oak surface.

“This is not your morning,” Rose said with a stifled smile as she reappeared with dish towels to help sop up the spill. When she saw the front of his jeans was soaked, her brows pinched. “Are you all right? Did you burn yourself?”

James glanced down at himself and smirked.

“Worried I’ve damaged your favorite part of me?” he crooned. When she rolled her eyes and chucked a towel at him, he said, “Well, rest assured, nothing’s injured but my pride.” As Rose knelt beside him to spray fabric cleaner across the sofa, James hovered his lips by her ear and whispered, “But maybe we should do a thorough examination of my equipment later tonight. Just to be sure. Can’t be too careful.”

Rose snorted and jabbed her elbow in his ribs.

“Why is Daddy’s lap your favorite part, Mummy?” Sianin asked curiously.

“Daddy was just being silly,” Rose answered. She stared pointedly at James. “Wasn’t he?”

“’Course I was. I love being silly because I love making Mummy laugh.”

“Go on and get changed,” Rose said when they’d cleaned the mess as best they could. “I’ll pour your coffee into a sippy cup then we can go shopping.”

“I think a thermos will do,” James said dryly.

“If you think you can handle that,” Rose teased. “Girls, get your shoes on. We’re going school shopping!”

Ainsley let out a gleeful whoop then grabbed Sianin’s hand to run for the shoe rack by the front door.

A half hour later, the family was wandering through a mall with an ever-filling cart of school supplies, this time filled with things Sianin would need for her Reception year. They could barely believe their baby was about to start school, but they were glad to see her excited about this newest adventure.

The weekend before school was due to start found the family travelling to London for the wedding between Mickey and Martha. Rose was looking forward to celebrating the love between her friends, but she also was pleased to have a date for the reception. At Donna’s wedding the previous summer, James had been out of the country and she’d gone to the wedding with just her kids.

She spent most of the reception dancing with James, swaying in his arms across the dance floor. And when she wasn’t in his arms, their daughters took turns dancing with him. She took a multitude of photos of the sight of her family dancing together.

James had taken her camera from her later on in the afternoon.

“You’re always photographing me with the girls,” he said when she tried to protest. “I want to return the favor. I promise I won’t break your baby.”

Rose rolled her eyes, but proceeded to give him a quick tutorial of the camera.

“Yeah, yeah. Point, focus, shoot. I got it,” he said, shooing her to the dance floor where Ainsley and Sianin were dancing together, their movements far too upbeat for the slow love ballad. “Go on, love. Dance.”

Rose proceeded to dance with their daughters, both together and individually, as well as with Mickey and Robert. James documented it all, his photos not nearly as lovely as those Rose could capture, but they were decent enough.

As the reception wound down, Robert took the camera from James and pushed him to the dance floor with Rose.

“Dad’s on babysitting duty,” James said, angling his head to where his dad was sitting with the camera. “I want to dance with my beautiful wife one last time before the party ends.”

Rose beamed at him, and he ducked down to catch her lips in a kiss. One of her hands clenched the fabric of his suit jacket while her other went into his hair to hold his head where it was. He smirked against her mouth and adjusted the angle of his head to deepen the kiss.

When they returned home on Sunday, they took the afternoon to everything ready for the girls’ first day of school. They made sure their backpacks were stocked with all of their new supplies and that their uniforms were washed, pressed, and laid out for them.

“Are you excited for tomorrow?” Rose asked as she tucked Sianin into bed that night.

“Yeah! I’m gonna learn lots and be smart as Ainsley!” Sianin’s eyes were bright and her wide grin showed off the new gap from where she’d lost her first tooth the week before.

“Yes you are,” James said. “You’re gonna learn so much and make loads of new friends.”

He leaned down a pressed a kiss to his youngest’s forehead and retired to his bedroom as Rose read Sianin her bedtime stories. He got himself ready for bed and slipped beneath the sheets, content to play a game on his phone as he waited for Rose.

She joined him twenty minutes later. He finished up his game as she went through her nightly routine, and set it to the side when Rose slipped under the sheets beside him.

“Big day tomorrow,” she murmured, nestling herself into his open arm.

“Yeah. Can’t believe she’s this big already,” James said, tracing idle patterns up and down her arm. “How are you feeling?”

“Great. Considering. I mean… this is a huge stepping stone for Sianin, but she’s so excited for it. And I’m excited for us to start this adventure with her.”

“Me too,” James agreed. He’d felt sad when Ainsley had started school, and he was pleased that no trace of it was present in his chest now. He felt nothing but eagerness for this newest chapter in his life, in his family’s life.

They slipped into silence, with James continuing to walk his fingers up and down her arm, then across her hip.

“D’you want to fool around for a bit?” Rose asked when his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of her sleep shorts.

He froze, not realizing where his hand had gone. He’d been touching his wife because he’d enjoyed doing so, not because he’d meant to start anything.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, pulling his arm from around her waist. “Not really. But if you want to…”

“Nope, I’m fine,” she answered. “But can we keep cuddling like we were? It felt nice.”

He smiled and wrapped his arm around her and leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead, then her lips. They kissed for many long minutes, kisses of love and togetherness that made James feel warm all over.

They gradually pulled out of their snog and lay on their sides, tangled together as they talked. They talked for hours about everything it seemed. They debated politics, played twenty questions, discussed books they’d read and wanted to read. On and on, until they realized it was almost midnight and their stomachs were sore from how often they’d been lost in stifled laughter.

“It’s been a while since we did this,” James whispered after he’d leaned over and flicked off the lamp, shrouding them in darkness. “It was nice.”

“Yeah it was,” Rose said, her voice sounding suddenly sleepy. “We should do this more often. I love talking with you.”

“Well that’s reassuring,” he drawled, and she snorted at him.

“I just meant that it’s so nice we can still talk to each other forever, despite having known each other for decades.”

“You’re making us sound so old,” he groaned.

“Pfft.” James didn’t need to see his wife to know she was rolling her eyes. “We’re in our prime, love.”

“I’m almost forty,” he said with a dramatic, long-suffering sigh.

“Yeah, but you are the sexiest, smartest, funniest, loving-est…” James laughed at her word choice and heard her echo it. “...almost-forty-year-old in the universe. And I love you.”

“Well, I guess that’s fine, then.” He squeaked when Rose smacked at his chest. He fumbled for her hand and managed to catch it to press a kiss to each of her knuckles. “I love you, too, Rose.”

She gave his fingers a squeeze, then took her hand back as she rolled onto her side.

“Can I spoon you for a little bit?” he asked.

“As long as you don’t wake me up when you change positions,” she said.

“You’ve never complained before when I’ve changed positions,” he crooned into her ear, slotting his body behind hers.

She laughed at him again, and let out a long breath as she relaxed back into him.

They awoke to two small bodies jumping on them the next morning. James wheezed out a breath when Sianin’s knee landed on his stomach, and he quickly shuffled her off of him before she could accidentally kick a more sensitive part of him.

“You two are up early,” Rose mumbled from beside him, sitting up.

“First day of school!” Sianin crowed. “You said we’d get a big breakfast!”

“It’s barely six,” James argued.

“And we leave the house at seven-thirty,” Ainsley said. “We don’t wanna be late!”

“We won’t be,” Rose said soothingly, but she slipped out of bed anyway and gestured for the girls to follow.

James groaned and stretched, then followed his family into the kitchen to help whip up the traditional first day of school breakfast. As everything cooked, he and Rose took turns sneaking off for a shower. And as Rose predicted, once breakfast was finished, there was still a half hour to go before they had to leave for school.

When the girls were finally dressed, James watched as Rose took the usual first day of school photos. She took individual ones of the girls, then a photo of them together, before she put her camera away and they decided to drive to the school, even though they’d be too early.

They all walked Sianin to her classroom, and James couldn’t help but laugh when she barely gave them a hug and kiss goodbye before she ran for the coat cubby that had her name printed on it.

“Sian, remember Ainsley will come collect you at the end of the day,” James called out.

“Yep! Bye bye!”

James shook his head at his youngest. Then, after he and Rose introduced themselves and Ainsley to Sianin’s teacher, they walked with Ainsley to her classroom.

The family soon settled into their respective school-time routines. With an entire day at her disposal, Rose found little things to occupy her time. She kept up with the household chores and finished up a few of the home renovations that hadn’t been entirely completed by the time the new term began.

She also used her newfound free time to catch up with friends she hadn’t seen in far too long.

“Penny! Hi!” Rose skipped up to her old friend and wrapped her in a hug. “Sorry I’m a bit late. I didn’t quite time the laundry right.”

“No worries,” Penny said, sitting back down in her chair. “So you had the day off?”

Rose shook her head. “Oh, no. I can’t believe I didn’t tell you—I quit my job.” Penny’s eyebrows rose, and Rose nodded. “Yeah, I was being driven mad by my supervisory role. I couldn’t do nearly the amount of commissions as they’d said I would, and that’s the part of the job I loved the most. I grew to hate going to work and with how stressed James and I were… Well, I decided I’d had enough of being so unhappy.”

Penny gave her a gentle smile and reached across the table to squeeze Rose’s fingers. “You seem so much happier than when I saw you last. By the way, can we not go six months without doing lunch next time? Damn, Rose, with you not working anymore, we could’ve scheduled something ages back!”

Rose’s cheeks warmed and she said, “I know, I know. Sorry ‘bout that. James and I have been so busy lately. We’ve basically redone all of the rooms in the house. New coat of paint, new furniture. We’re thinking of remodeling our kitchen next.” Rose dug her phone out of her purse and scrolled through her photos to show off her home.

“Oh, wow,” Penny breathed. “Wanna come redo my house next?” She then smiled softly at a photo, and Rose leaned forward to see what had caught her friend’s attention. It was a selfie of her and James in their war-zone of a living room. They were each covered in specks of paint, their hair having gotten the most damage after their paint-smeared hands had wandered during a snog. “You two look amazing, Rose. Are things… better?”

Penny had been the only non-family person Rose had confided in about how much she’d been struggling, and how hard she and James were working to build themselves back up again.

“Yeah, loads better,” Rose said. “I feel great, and James does too. We’re both back in a really good place.”

“I’m so happy for you,” Penny said, handing Rose her phone.

“Thanks. But enough about me. How’s your work? How’s Devon and the kids?”

Penny had changed jobs over a year ago, shortly before word had come that the company they’d worked at would be restructuring. She was working at a much smaller company that primarily dealt in photography, the art form Penny preferred the most. As she listened to her friend light up as she talked about the projects she was in the middle of, a pit of longing formed in Rose’s stomach and remained even after the two parted with the promise to meet up again soon.

When she got home, Rose fired up her laptop and opened up a basic photo editing software and got to work on touching up the first day of school photographs. She lost herself to her work until her phone alarm reminder her to go collect the kids from school. Saving her work, she tried to think of where she could go to get the pictures printed off. It was irksome to no longer have high-tech printers at her disposal.

I can talk to James about maybe buying one, she mused.

But as she considered getting a new printer, she began to wish she had better art programs on her computer and tablet. She had basic packages, but nothing like the wealth of technology and programs she’d had access to while at her job. As she drove to pick up the kids, Rose couldn’t help but make a mental list of all of the artistic equipment she wished she could have. However, it didn’t seem worth it to invest so much money in something that would be just for her own amusement.

Unless…

Over the next several days, James noticed that Rose seemed preoccupied with something. Not in a bad way, but he could tell there was something on her mind. After checking in with her and getting the reassurance that it wasn’t anything worrisome, he let her have her space to think. 

His patience was rewarded one night when she came to him with a nervous but determined look in her eyes.

“I’ve been thinking…”

James glanced up from his e-reader to see Rose fingering the pendant of her necklace. He set the tablet to the side and pivoted his body to face her. They sat in silence for a few seconds as James waited for her to organize her thoughts and share what was on her mind.

“I’m a pretty good artist,” Rose said at last.

Though confused, James nodded and said, “The best I’ve ever seen. Picasso and Van Gogh and whoever else have got nothing on you, love.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled and finally released her necklace, only to take her thumb and spin her engagement ring around her finger.

“I was thinking that I miss making art for other people,” Rose said. “I’ve been drawing and painting and photographing over the last few months, but they’ve all been for me, or for our family. But… art should be shared.”

Several ideas floated through James’s head. Ideas about Rose submitting some of her art to galleries, or finding a new job at a studio, or making her own website to sell her pieces. But he wasn’t sure if what he thought she could do matched with what she wanted to do, so he nodded and let her continue to speak.

“I don’t think I want to get another job like the one I had,” she said, and James checked that idea off his mental list. “But… what do you think about me someday opening up my own studio?”

Rose shrugged as she finished speaking, and she dropped her gaze to the couch cushion between them. James caught her hand as it began its journey to her mouth, and he gave it a squeeze as he said, “I think that’s a brilliant idea.”

“Yeah? It’s not stupid or fanciful?”

“Of course not,” James said, frowning slightly. He squeezed her fingers again then said, “I’m here for you, no matter what. I’ll support you in whatever way I can. We could remodel the basement into a studio for you, or if you’d prefer, we could rent a flat or office space for you. Whatever you want, Rose, it’s yours.”

She finally smiled at him then scooted across the cushions towards him. “Thank you, James. Your support means a lot to me. I dunno when or how I want to do this, but within the next couple of years, I think I’d like to get something up and running.”

“Just let me know,” he whispered, opening his arm for her to cuddle into his side. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Whatever you decide to do, it’s gonna be fantastic.”

oOoOo

James’s groin felt tight as he slowly drifted out of his dream. He couldn’t remember what he’d been dreaming of, only that it had been nice.

Sighing, he flexed his hips a little to try to alleviate the building ache at the front of his pants. He was about to roll over and press himself against Rose to ask if she might like to make love before his alarm went off when he realized something was already rubbing at his morning erection.

He cracked open his eyes and saw Rose lying near his hip, her head propped up by her elbow as she lazily rubbed him through his pants. She looked up at him and smiled the smile that sent butterflies fluttering in his belly.

“Happy birthday,” she said, leaning over to press a kiss to the swell of his ribs. “D’you want to do something with this?” She gave his erection a soft squeeze, sending a thrill of pleasure through him.

“I was hoping we could,” he murmured, pressing his hips up into her hand.

They moved together to get his pants off, and Rose took her top off too. Her breasts swung with her movements as she returned to her position near his hip. His breath caught in his throat when he realized what she was doing.

Her mouth was hot and wet as she pressed lingering open-mouthed kisses to his erection, an endless circuit up and down his length. He leaned back into his pillow and let her explore him, torn between letting her take her time and wanting her to hurry up before the kids woke up and potentially interrupted them.

After a couple minutes of teasing him to full hardness, she took him completely into her mouth. He bit his lip against a moan as pleasure sparked down his spine, settling deep in his gut as the pressure built.

“God, I love this,” he groaned.

She grinned around his cock and picked up the pace. He reached down to thread his fingers through her hair, not to guide her movements, but simply to touch her. Her hair was silky between his fingers, and he was mindful of the tangles and knots from sleep.

Minutes passed and James nearly let himself get consumed in her ministrations. Her hand had joined her mouth, providing him with unbelievable friction. But he heard the rustle of fabric and a soft, wet noise that wasn’t her mouth, and when he glanced down at her, he saw her other hand was down her knickers, pleasuring herself.

The sight was almost enough to make him come, but he pushed down the swelling sensation and he tugged on her hair gently.

“Wait,” he gasped. “Rose, stop for a sec.”

She pulled off of him and frowned. “Everything okay?”

He nodded and said, “How close are you?”

She slowly pulled her hand out of her knickers. “Pretty close.”

“Excellent.” He tapped a fingertip against the base of his cock and said, “The birthday boy would like to be inside his wife, if she’s agreeable.”

Rose chuckled and rolled her eyes, but she pushed her knickers down her legs and knelt beside him after retrieving a small foil packet from their bedside.

“The birthday boy’s wife is very agreeable,” she replied, slowly rolling the condom down his length. “D’you want to top? It’s your day, after all.”

But James shook his head, wanting to see her on top of him. He braced his hands at her hips to steady her as she straddled his hips and took him inside of her.

“I love being inside you,” he sighed as he filled her.

“Here I thought you loved getting a blow job,” Rose said with a cheeky grin.

“Well, I love that too,” he said, gripping her hips as she began to rock on him. “I just love making love with you however I can. I love you.”

“I love you, too, James,” she said, before her head tilted back and she groaned. “God, you feel good.”

He nodded, thrusting his hips up into her to try to get her to make that breathy squeak he loved so much. It took a couple tries, but she finally let out the noise and he grinned triumphantly.

“You’re too pleased,” she huffed breathlessly.

“Bet I can make you come first,” he replied, arching his hips to drive himself harder into her.

“I’ll take that—oh, fuck—that bet.”

Before he could reach down to rub her clit and send her over the edge she was already close to, Rose caught his hands in hers and pinned them near his head.

“Oi!” he whined.

She breathed out a laugh as she leaned closer to him until she was almost lying flat on top of him. She squeezed her muscles around him, giving him a surge of friction and pleasure as she mercilessly rocked her hips into his.

“You’re cheating,” he gasped as the coil of pleasure tightened inside of him.

“No, I’m using my extensive knowledge and experience to win this bet,” she replied, setting an unforgiving pace above him.

“Cheating,” he muttered, but he soon didn’t care as long as her hips kept moving. “I’m close, Rose. You’re gonna come too, right?”

“Mhm,” she answered, biting her lip. “Right behind you.” She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips. It was sloppy and uncoordinated but so tender that James’s heart skipped a beat with the love he felt in the moment. She then placed her lips next to his ear and whispered, “Come for me, James.”

The words were his undoing, along with the puff of hot air across the shell of his ear. Trembling with goosebumps, James strained against her grip as he felt the coil of pleasure release. Rose let him go, and he hugged her hips tightly to his.

“Your turn,” he gritted out, trying to coordinate his hips to keep thrusting into her as he spent himself.

“Right there,” she grunted.

James’s eyes rolled back as his pleasure peaked, leaving him pulsing and throbbing inside of Rose as his heartbeat roared in his ears. He heard her whimper his name before the word died on a series of wordless moans and sighs.

His head finally cleared of the fog enough for him to watch Rose continue to ride her high, working herself against him in slow, lazy movements. God, he loved her. He loved her more than he could possibly tell her. His whole heart clenched with the feeling, and he sat up so he could wrap her in a hug.

His movements caused her to let out another hum of pleasure, and so he flexed his hips for her, delighted that this orgasm seemed to be going on for longer than usual.

“Oh, God,” she groaned, resting her forehead on the top of his head. “Jesus.”

“Just James,” he mumbled, burying his face into her neck. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

They remained in their intimate embrace until James felt himself slip out of her. Grimacing, he tugged the condom off and dropped it into the rubbish bin they kept beside the bed. Before he could coax Rose off his lap, she threaded her fingers through his hair to tilt his head back so she could press her lips to his.

Their kisses were unhurried and full of tenderness. James wished they could stay in bed for another hour or so because his arousal was slowly reigniting the longer he kissed his wife. He knew she could feel the evidence of it, because she smirked against his mouth and ground her hips down on his, encouraging his erection to grow.

“We shouldn’t,” he sighed, even as he wished she would keep moving on him like that.

“Sure we should,” she argued. “I mean… if you want to go another round.”

“Oh, believe me, I do,” he said firmly. His entire body was singing with renewed desire, as though he hadn’t just found his release mere minutes ago. “But the kid’s’ll be up soon.”

“They’re probably already up,” she replied.

“All the more reason we shouldn’t.”

“I can keep quiet if you can,” she whispered. But she pulled back from the kiss to look down at him. “If you want?”

He did want. He stayed silent for a few seconds, listening for the kids. The faint clattering of silverware on bowls echoed from the kitchen, and James hoped they were eating something somewhat healthy for breakfast.

Rose misinterpreted his silence and pressed a kiss to his forehead and began to shift off of his lap.

“No, no. Stay,” he murmured. “I want.”

James pulled her head back to his, catching her lips in another kiss before he coaxed her onto her back and grabbed a fresh condom before covering her body with his. There wasn’t a single place their bodies weren’t touching, and James let out a deep groan of satisfaction when Rose wrapped her arms and legs around him.

“My God, I feel like I could stay like this forever,” Rose moaned into his ear after he slipped inside of her. “You feel so, so good, James.”

“I know the feeling,” he hummed, nuzzling his nose into her neck to breathe her in.

“The kids should be fine for a few hours, right?” she asked, rolling her hips up into his.

“Definitely. They’re very self-sufficient children.”

“Then I vote we stay here all day.”

“I’m not sure they’re self-sufficient enough to drive themselves to school though,” James mused.

“That’s the next thing I’m teaching them.” She hissed and dug her nails into his lower back. “Oh, God, do that again.”

James grinned and arched his hips, rubbing his pelvis against hers as he did so. Gradually, their conversation dwindled and sighing pants and moans took their place. They smothered their sounds of pleasure into each other’s skin as they made love slowly. After sending Rose over the edge, James’s teeth sank into her shoulder as he grunted through his release.

As the final aftershocks rippled through him in time with Rose’s fingers stroking his spine, her phone blared at them.

“What happened to my alarm?” James mumbled into her breast as Rose grabbed her phone.

“I wanted a few extra minutes with you,” she answered. “I figured you’d appreciate that.”

“How many is ‘a few’?”

A guilty smile crossed her face. “Er… thirty?”

James laughed into her skin. “You impossible woman. You’re gonna make me late.”

“If you get in the shower within the next two minutes, you’ll be right on time,” Rose said. But she’d resumed trailing her fingertips up and down his spine, sending pleasant tingles across his skin and giving him no incentive to move. “I’ll have your breakfast and coffee ready for you, and you can be out the door by seven-forty.”

His entire chest warmed, and he pulled back to look at her. “You take such good care of me.”

A slow, broad smile lit up her face. “Well, of course. I love you.”

“I love you, too. So much.” He leaned down a pressed a series of kisses to her cheeks and lips as he said, “You and our daughters are my life’s greatest gift, and I’m so thankful have such a wonderful family.”

Just then, a barrage of rapid knocks sounded on their bedroom door.

“Are you done having private alone time?”

“Sianin!”

“What? I wanna show Daddy my card! Mummy needs to share Daddy.”

James bit back a laugh. He looked down at Rose, whose eyes were twinkling with amusement, and murmured, “I take back what I said. They’re absolute menaces.”

Rose giggled and smacked at his shoulder. He stuck his tongue out at her, then rolled off her.

“I’ll be out in ten minutes,” he called out. “I’m about to get a shower. I can’t wait to see your card, Sian.”

The doorknob jiggled. “Can’t we come in?”

“No, darling,” he said. “We’ll be out in a few minutes. Go finish getting ready for school.”

The pitter patter of two sets of small feet retreated down the hall, and James breathed a silent sigh.

“Her innocence is such a gift and I dread the day she realizes what her mum and dad do behind closed doors,” he said. “I was traumatized when I realized what my parents were doing during “private alone time”.”

Rose snorted and rolled her eyes. “Imagine learning your mum did that with a random bloke she met at a pub or a supermarket or the laundry. But nevertheless. I don’t want us to make a big deal of it to the kids. Yeah? What we’re doing is perfectly natural and I don’t want either Ainsley or Sianin to think it’s something dirty or secret or something to be ashamed of.”

“Agreed,” James said. “It’s just a little awkward, is all. I can see Sianin blurting out at school someday that her mum and dad have private alone time all the time.”

Rose let out a cackle and said, “Oh, she probably will. Bless her nonexistent filter. But you need to get up. You’re three minutes behind the very strict schedule I set for you.”

“Well, since I’m already running late…” He leaned over and brushed a kiss to the freckles on her shoulder. “You could just join me in the shower and make me properly late. Eh?”

She smacked her palm against the back of his head, and he pulled back with a pout. But she was grinning as she said, “You’re insatiable!”

“For you, my love?” He leaned down to press a final kiss to her shoulder. “Always.”

<-- Ch 11 | Ch 13 -->

#ficandchips #doctorroseprompts #dwfic #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #james x rose #soulmates #soulmates au #lemons #kid fic #my fic #perfectly matched series #and babies make five and six #themes of infertility #(not too much in this chapter though)

[ellanainthetardis]

Day 4: Santa Claus Is Coming To Town

Here is Day 4! [FF] or [AO3]

Bring The Capitol To Twelve!

Haymitch exchanged a look of alarm with the children when Effie Trinket stormed into his house along with a blast of freezing air, her arms full of boxes and bags piled so high she probably couldn’t see where she was going.

“What in hell…” he grumbled, automatically standing up to help. Peeta had already bolted and was trying to relieve her of the heaviest packages. Katniss, he noticed, wisely kept to his newly steam-cleaned couch – apparently the only way to save it, according to their former escort.

Effie finally appeared from behind the boxes, her bright blue scarf a bit loose, the matching woolen hat sideway on her head and her face pink from the cold.

“Did you walk all the way from town like this?” the girl asked, stunned.

Haymitch didn’t know why she was still surprised by the stunts Effie could pull when it came to shopping.

“The fuck are those for anyway?” he frowned, peering at the fairy lights printed on the box he had taken from her. “You add any more lights and decorations to the kids’ house, it’s gonna crumble.”

Effie Trinket and Christmas.

He had known her for a long time and had always more or less been aware it was a big deal for her but it wasn’t until she had gasped at the other end of the phone when he had said that they weren’t going to do anything special that year – because they never did, it wasn’t that big a deal in Twelve – that he had realized his mistake. He had been forced to sit through a twenty minutes rant about how it was their first true Christmas as a free country – technically it was the second but the first had taken place in the immediate wake of the surrender and had come and gone unnoticed – and how they needed to celebrate properly.

What kind of strings she had pulled to get Twelve decorated, he wasn’t sure, but two days after that phone call, a Christmas tree had appeared in the middle of the square, lights had been pulled up on the streetlamps and, soon enough, people had gotten into it and started hanging mistletoe wreaths on their doors. When Haymitch had asked, the new mayor had scratched his head and explained the orders came from above.

Above , Haymitch had decided, meant the Secretary of Communications.

It could have stopped there if Effie herself hadn’t arrived with flourish, with enough luggage for at least two weeks – which, for Effie, was a lot – and box upon box of Christmas decorations that she insisted on hanging in the children’s house. It took two whole days to get everything to her liking – and he and Katniss had been forced to go to the woods, chop down a pine tree and drag it back to the Village – but by the time it was all done, the kids’ house was like a miniature Christmas town. The neighbors’ children kept stopping in front of it and gaping as if it was the most wonderful thing they had ever seen – and it probably was.

That, too, had kicked off a new trend of decorating throughout the District. Those days, when Haymitch walked through town, he wondered if he was still at home or in the city. People were going crazy over this.

But everyone was happy and joyful so he tried not to grumble too much.

“Those are not for the children, silly.” Effie laughed and he was momentarily distracted because he loved her laugh. And if the kids hadn’t been standing right there, he might have done something about it. Like kiss her or nuzzle her cold skin to warm her up…

That train of thoughts came to a screeching halt when he got a very bad feeling…

“Who are they for?” he asked, dreading the answer.

Effie tossed him an indulgent look as if he was a child acting out.

“Would you and Katniss be darlings and go fetch another tree?” she requested, placing down the shopping bags – overflowing with baubles – to step closer to him. That was cheating. In many shapes and forms, that was cheating. Because when she was looking up at him in her flat snow boots, all cute with those wild blond curls escaping her woolen hat, that little pout and those big pleading eyes…

The Haymitch from before the war, the one who hadn’t spent all those months sober in Thirteen with her, might have managed to say no. But that Haymitch would have probably been very drunk and very lonely right then anyway.

She had always been very good at manipulating him into doing what she wanted but it had only grown worse since they had become something of an official item.

“I hate you.” he grumbled for appearances’ sakes.

Her lips stretched into an amused smile and she tilted her head, a spark in her knowing gaze. She leaned a little against his side, just enough for him to feel her familiar weight, and he rolled his eyes, annoyed to find he had become just like those former boyfriends and girlfriends of hers who had been so desperate to please her – and who he had always made fun of.

“If you say so.” she challenged.

He kissed her.

Because he had no good comeback to that.

It was only a peck, a long one granted, but just a peck and it definitely didn’t deserve the groans of disgust it got from the kids. He rolled his eyes again, checked what time it was and nodded at the girl. “Wanna go now?”

“Pine tree hunting.” Katniss deadpanned. “What could be more fun?”

Effie pursed her lips and quietly clucked her tongue at that display of un-Christmassy  spirits.

“Peeta and I will start on the house.” she declared. “Do cover yourself, it is simply freezing out there.”

“It’s freezing but you’ve got no problem sending us to the woods for a fucking tree.” he mumbled, stealing her scarf because he wasn’t sure where his was.

“Language, Haymitch.” she rebuked, removing her hat and her coat. She forced the hat on his head. He was sure he looked ridiculous but he kept it all the same.

He should be madder, he mused, once he and Katniss were on their way to the woods with a sled and an axe. After all, Effie had showed up unannounced and had taken over his house – and the children’s – scrubbing it from floors to ceilings even though he hadn’t done such a bad job at keeping it clean. It wasn’t as good as when Hazelle had been working for him but it hadn’t turned back into a pigsty either. He had tried to keep it manageable if only because Effie often visited – and he wanted her to keep coming. Point was, every time she showed up, she colonized the house a little more with her stuff and she never asked first.

And now she just assumed it was okay for her to turn his house into a replica of a Capitol Christmas even though he had been making fun of what she had done at the kids’ for the past three days. And he was letting her anyway.

Why was he letting her?

He liked having sex with her, was the first answer that popped in his head. A happy Effie was a willing Effie.

He liked seeing her glowing with happiness, was the second and, probably, the truest one.

He had watched her faking cheerfulness and exuberance so hard along the years… He liked that now it was genuine. And he liked it even more when he was the source of it.

Losing his house to Christmas was a cheap price to see her beam with joy.

“The whole District’s going crazy.” Katniss pointed out, sitting on the sled, watching him chop down a tree. “They all act like Capitols.”

It’s all Effie’s fault, she didn’t say but he heard anyway.

“Makes them happy though.” he shrugged, wiping his forehead with his sleeve, before swinging the axe again. Where was Johanna and her skills when you needed them? “They got few chances to celebrate since the war. Let them.”

Rebuilding had been hard and hope was only helpful up to a point. Delay in shipments, the bones they kept finding even long after they had cleaned the ruins, the knowledge of the mass grave under the meadow, personal loss… The last year hadn’t been all moonlight and roses. If people in Twelve wanted to party in style for Christmas instead of the quiet, often forgotten, celebration they usually did… He wasn’t going to deny them.

He was ready to admit the kids’ house was a little too much though and he hoped Effie would have enough sense not to turn his into something similar.

“Effie’s out of control.” Katniss snorted. “I can’t believe you’re letting her do that to your house.”

The tree fell and they watched it for a while. He waited until they had secured it on the sled to answer.

“She loves Christmas.” he explained. “Like… a lot.”

“No kidding.” the girl mocked. “The giant lights on my house didn’t clue me in.”

Haymitch rolled his eyes and started dragging the sled toward the path, slowed by the small but annoying coat of snow on the ground. “It’s a special time for her. It was important when she was a kid.”

He didn’t know much because she hadn’t really told him much. He knew Christmas was something of a special time for her and her grandfather, that he had brought her ice skating in secret every year, that he had always taken her to see the illuminations at the center of town, that he had let her be a child instead of a lady-to-be and that, at Christmas, she had been willing to indulge. He had heard plenty about her mother, father and sister over the years but very little about the grandfather whose flask she had given him at some point. That was how he knew the man had been important. Effie didn’t talk much about important people. She kept what she loved close to her heart, mainly because her mother had had a bad habit of criticizing it and shredding that love beyond repair.

He also knew, without her having to voice it, that she missed that grandfather most at Christmas and that all the flair she gave the holidays was only a way to feel closer to him. So, yeah, he was alright with humoring her because when it came down to it, it was more than just her being her dramatic flamboyant self.

Even if her very Capitol ideas weren’t exactly compatible with their vision of Christmas.

“Jo’s right.” Katniss sighed. “You’re whipped for her.”

“I ain’t whipped for anyone.” he muttered.

“You’re miserable when she’s away.” she pointed out, with far more insight than he expected from her.

“You ain’t exactly all sunshine when the boy’s not around.” he argued. “Same thing.”

“You love her, then?” she challenged.

The words startled him and he tossed her a glance before hauling the sled harder. It didn’t feel right not to answer it, though. To let the doubt linger. Not anymore. But as to actually confirm it…

“What do you think?” he spat.

“I think you should make sure she never gets back on a train.” Katniss shrugged. “We’re family and family should stick together.”

“You want me to ask her to move in?” he scoffed, a bit incredulous.

It wasn’t that the thought had never crossed his mind. Hell, it had crossed his mind every time she showed up for three days and he walked her back to the train station or every time he visited her in the city only to be forced to say goodbye on the platform. He hated goodbyes and it was becoming increasingly harder to be far from her. In the last six months, he had lost count of the number of trips they had made back and forth. She was working for Plutarch who was understanding and let her have long week-ends but sometimes she was stuck at work and he just had to go to her because he couldn’t bear the idea of not seeing her for three long weeks.

Funny how life worked…

A month a year had seemed like a lot once upon a time.

“What do you want?” she retorted.

And that shut him up for good.

He blamed the girl though.

Now that someone had voiced the idea, it wouldn’t leave his skull. He was distracted for days. Even when Effie gushed over the tree they brought back and forced them all to decorate it with her, even when she took advantage of his monosyllabic answers to hang fairy lights all over the porch and the windows, even when she declared they should have a feast for Christmas even if it was only the four of them, even when she started piling more and more gifts wrapped in shiny papers under the tree every day… He remained distracted.

She tried to coax the reason out of him with every way she knew how: sex, cuddling, fighting, pouting, begging… He kept eluding and lying about nothing being wrong.

Eventually, she must have concluded that it was her Capitol Christmas that was bothering him because she stopped asking.

And he couldn’t stop staring at the suitcases pushed in a corner of his bedroom, ready to be used again after New Year’s Eve.

As it turned out, them having a feast meant forcing Katniss to go hunt a bird of some kind – the bigger the better, dear – and forcing him and Peeta to slave in the kitchen all day – because Katniss had already gone to hunt for the meal and Effie wasn’t allowed near a stove – while she cleaned the good dishes – whatever that meant – and set up the table in the dining-room Haymitch couldn’t remember having used even once.

If he had used the dining-room once, he might have realized he actually owned fragile looking porcelain plates and service dishes. He asked her twice if she had brought the whole thing with her but she simply huffed and puffed until he gave up.

The meal was really good.

There was far too much food for the four of them – because Effie had insisted on all her favorite things being represented so they could truly experience a real Christmas dinner – but that would simply meant there would be leftovers for a couple of days and they could give some to Sae and her granddaughter so Haymitch didn’t complain about it being a waste. It was the company more than the food that made it special though. There was a cheer in the air, everyone was happy, Effie was laughing a lot, her blue eyes sparkling, and even Katniss’ sullen expression gave in to something joyful. By the time they got around to dessert, they were all full.

Haymitch’s hand had ended up on Effie’s leg under the table and he was busy drawing mindless patterns on her thigh, not really listening to her prattle about whatever it was Plutarch had done. Apparently it was funny because the kids laughed but he only had eyes for her.

She tossed him a curious look, eyebrows slightly furrowed in a silent question, but he just smirked and squeezed her leg once.

They moved on to the living-room not long after that. They exchanged gifts – far too many gifts because Effie had completely gone overboard and had at least four wrapped packages for each of them.

“What the fuck is this?” He frowned at the device in his hand. She had squealed as soon as he had unwrapped it and opened the plastic box to set it up. He knew what the silver thing was, he had seen her matching red one often enough. It was a cell phone. The thing that was all the rage outside of Twelve’s little corner.

“It will change our lives.” she declared, pointing out at different apps. “With this we can see each other when we call. With this one we can talk through pictures. With this one…”

“Effie, I already have a phone.” he pointed out.

“An archaic phone attached to the wall.” she huffed. “I do not think you understand. We can see each other, Haymitch.”

He understood very well.

Sex phone would get not only easier but a little more interesting. But… It still wasn’t like the real thing and…

“You know I don’t like this stuff.” he insisted. He liked the new hand carved chessboard a lot more. And the books she had bought him were perfect. But this…

He got where it came from, he got it was well-meant but…

She knew he hated those new technologies. Not only the idea of walking around with a phone in his pocket but the knowledge that they were traceable and probably easier to hack and bug… He was paranoid but with good reasons. The war hadn’t been so long ago.

“I just thought it would make things easier for us.” she replied defensively, clearly a little hurt. “If you do not like it… Well, I do not know. Give it to someone else.”

She moved away from him a little and turned her attention back to Katniss. “Open yours, dear!”

The cheerfulness was fake and that made him feel bad. Maybe the kids weren’t seeing the difference but he did, the light in her eyes had dimmed a little, there was a forced hint to her voice and her smiles were strained.

She squealed when she saw the shoes he had bought her – honestly, he had just grabbed the higher heels that looked the most ridiculous, trusting that if he hated it then she would loved it – and it seemed he was forgiven because she planted a kiss on his cheek and insisted on putting them on immediately, exclaiming over the butterfly sewed on the ankle and what a lovely shade of blue they were.

They drank hot chocolate with small marshmallows afterwards and they talked a little more until Katniss’s head fell on Peeta’s shoulder and the boy suggested calling it a night. Haymitch and Effie promised to go to the kids for a Christmas breakfast the next morning and, just like that, the house was silent and it was just the two of them lost in too many Christmas decorations.

The mood was odd and Haymitch wasn’t sure what to do so he helped her clean up the dining-room and left the dirty dishes to soak in the sink while she put away the food. It was only once they moved on to the living-room, picking up wrapping papers and the dirty mugs that he cleared his throat.

His hand closed on the silver phone that he was ready to bet he would lose or break before long anyway. “I don’t want to use a cell phone.”

She didn’t stop picking up the discarded papers, smoothing them before folding them properly as if she intended to use them again when he knew for a fact she would throw them away and buy new ones because it probably wouldn’t be proper to give a gift to someone wrapped in already used paper.

“Yes.” she answered, her tone a bit curt. “I got that loud and clear. I apologize, I did not know you were so set against them. I simply thought it would make the distance a little easier.”

“Yeah, that’s another thing I don’t want anymore either.” he said before he could think twice about it.

She startled so badly that she dropped all her carefully collected papers. Not that she noticed or cared because she was staring at him, her face guarded like he had rarely seen in it since the Games. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t want to do this anymore.” he repeated with a long uncertain sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.  

“I see.” she said flatly. She swallowed hard and averted her eyes but not quickly enough for him not to see the tears. She picked up the papers once again and started folding them so violently that some of them tore. “I won’t lie I think you could have chosen a more opportune moment but, of course, I would not force you into something you do not want so… I will just go pack, shall I? We will go to breakfast tomorrow, we cannot disappoint the children. And then if there is a train… I am not sure trains are running on Christmas day. I will take the first train available. I will move to the guest room in the meantime.”

“What?” he frowned, grabbing her arm before she could do something stupid like flee upstairs and actually pack. “What are you on about? I don’t want you to leave.”

“Was it because of Christmas?” she asked, looking up at him with bright shiny eyes. “Because I know I was a bit pushy. I just wanted it to be perfect. I… My mother always did perfect Christmas dinners so I thought… I realize you have different traditions here in Twelve and if this is about Christmas…”

“Christmas was good.” he cut her off, completely confused. He cupped her cheek, wiping off a wayward tear from her cheek, at a loss for what to do. “It was great.”

“Then, is it because I took over your house?” she insisted. “Did I impose too much? I… You should have told me, I understand you need your space and…”

“Effie, what the fuck are you talking about?” he snapped. “I’m telling you I don’t want to do the distance thing anymore and you say you want to leave and now you’re asking why like I’m the one dumping you!”

She sniffed and frowned, hastily wiping her cheeks, confusion written all over her face. “Well, you are. Aren’t you?”

“Fuck, no.” he scoffed, wrapping his arm around her waist because he didn’t trust her not to run away. She didn’t fight him off though, she leaned a little against his chest, as if in reflex, placing her palm flat over his heart like she sometimes did at night. “Are you?”

It was more uncertain and vulnerable than he would have liked but the fact was… If she broke up with him… She was the only stable relationship he had had since his girl, on a lot of accounts she was the only stable relationship he had ever had because he wasn’t sure a flirt at sixteen truly counted. She was the only woman he had ever cared to make a life with and the only one he really wanted. If she decided she wanted to move on…

“Of course not!” she protested. “You said…”

“I’m saying I don’t want to use the damn phone because I don’t want you to be so far.” he clarified. “I want you to be here. With me. All the time.” He winced. “Well, maybe not all the time ‘cause we’d drive each other nuts so you’re okay to go out for a while but, basically, yeah… I don’t want you to go back to the Capitol. I know you’ve got your fancy job and all but…”

“Are you asking me to move in?” she interrupted, managing the feat of sounding both flabbergasted and excited in the same breath.

“Yeah.” he shrugged. “Yeah.”

He wasn’t sure what he expected but being kissed so hard he had to step back and then tripping on the armrest of the couch and falling backward wasn’t it.

“Yes.” she mumbled against his lips between two kisses. “Yes.”

“So easy?” he snorted.

He had thought there would be at least several conversations about how she couldn’t be expected to drop everything to move to the backend of the country and how they should maybe split their time between Twelve and the city or something…

“Do you have any idea how long I have been waiting for you to ask me?” she retorted, forcing his sweater over his head. “Oh, it is truly a perfect Christmas! This is the perfect Christmas gift!”

“Thought you liked the shoes?” he teased.

“The shoes are a close second.” she chuckled. “Now hush and let me give you a Christmas treat.”

He had nothing against Christmas treats, not when it involved her mouth and certain parts of his anatomy.

He could get used to Capitol Christmases after all.

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #hayffismas week #my hayffismas week #pots mj #movie!verse #fluff #angsting h #haymitch with feelings #the kids #holiday themed #established